10989	----	OUR SAVIOUR Father Tuck's NEW TESTAMENT Series. [Illustration: Our Savior.] Our Saviour. [Illustration] Our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ had been quietly living for many years at His father's home in Nazareth when John the Baptist began to preach and prepare the people for His coming, as it had been foretold by an Angel before His birth that he should do, and we are told that all the land of Judea, and the people of Jerusalem, roused by his preaching, went to be baptized by him in the river Jordan, after confessing their sins. John told them that One much greater than he was to come after him, One whose shoes he was not worthy to unloose, for he could only baptize them with water and exhort them to repent of their sins while there was yet time, but He who was to come after would baptize them with the Holy Ghost. This he did till Jesus Himself came from Nazareth to the Jordan, and desired John, the companion of His childhood, to baptize Him also. John objected, saying that he himself had need to be baptized of Jesus, and was not worthy to perform the office for Him, but our gracious Saviour insisted till John led Him into the river and baptized Him. As they returned to the land a very wonderful thing happened, for the heavens opened above, and the Spirit of God, in the form of a dove, descended, and alighted upon Jesus, whilst a voice was heard saying "This is My beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased." Then John went on his way, preaching more and more to the people, and telling every one who would listen to him of the marvellous thing he had seen; whilst Christ went away by Himself into a lonely place called a wilderness, where, for forty days, and forty nights, He was tempted by the devil in all manner of ways, but finding that, by the help of God His Father, Jesus was enabled to resist all temptation to sin, and would worship and serve none but the true God, the devil at length left Him, and "Angels came and ministered unto Him." [Illustration] From that time, Jesus being then about thirty years of age, He began to preach, and exhort to repentance as John had done before Him. One day as He walked beside the sea of Galilee He saw two brothers named Simon-Peter and Andrew, fishing by the shore. These men He called to Him and bade them follow Him for He would make them fishers of men, and they immediately left their nets and followed Him. Presently, as they walked along the shore, they saw two other fishermen brothers--James and John, the sons of Zebedee, in a boat with their father, mending the great, brown nets with which they caught fish on the Syrian coasts, and called them also, and they too left their nets and their father and followed Him. They were the first four of the twelve disciples whom Jesus by degrees gathered about Him, and who were His companions and assistants in His future work. With His disciples Christ travelled over the whole land of Syria, now called the Holy Land, teaching in the churches and preaching about the Kingdom of His Father, and healing all manner of diseases and sicknesses amongst the people, until the fame of His sayings and doings spread every where, and the sick and suffering and diseased were brought to Him from all quarters that He might heal them. This He never refused to do, for His heart was so overflowing with divine love and pity for mankind that He could not see suffering or misery without healing it. [Illustration: Jesus is Baptized.] [Illustration] But so immense grew the multitude of people who began to follow and press about Him, that He had no room to teach or to preach, no opportunity to rest and talk quietly with His disciples either night or day. Seeing this He went up a mountain side, and sat down, and His disciples came to Him, and there He began to instruct the people by preaching to them that most grand and beautiful sermon called the Sermon on the Mount, which contains not only the lessons taught by the series of blessings called "The Beatitudes", at the commencement, but that prayer of prayers known to every child as the "Lord's Prayer", because it is the only one which Christ Himself taught word for word with His own lips, and which has remained unaltered through the nineteen hundred years which have gone by since He lived on earth. [Illustration] The people were very much astonished, not only at what Christ preached to them, but because He spoke as if He had direct authority for what He said, and this they could not understand, because they had not forgotten that He was the Son of Joseph the Carpenter of Nazareth. When Jesus came down from the mountain side, great multitudes followed Him, many of whom were sick and entreated Him to heal them, and He not only did so, but performed many yet greater miracles, such as making the blind to see and the deaf to hear, and even restoring to life some that were dead, always however, impressing on those about Him, that it was not by His own power that He did these things, but by faith in the Spirit of God His Father who moved within Him. After having sufficiently taught His disciples by quiet talks, by speaking to them through parables and letting them behold the miracles He Himself performed, until they thoroughly believed in His Divine power, Christ called the whole twelve around Him and gave them also the power to perform miracles, to heal all manner of sickness and disease, and then sent them forth to teach and preach in all the cities of Israel. He laid upon them many injunctions as to their conduct as they travelled, how they were to give offence to no one, and to teach brotherly love and the forgiveness of injuries between man and man as freely as God had promised to forgive them. [Illustration: By the Sea of Galilee.] Now and then, by twos and threes, some of the disciples came back to Jesus to report to Him what they had done and how they had been received, and how the fame of His Name and teaching was spreading far and wide; and so it happened that He was seldom without one or two of these loved and trusted followers about Him as He journeyed, sometimes stopping a few days in one place, sometimes crossing the inland sea of Galilee, or going from city to city along the coast in a boat or ship, but always doing good wherever He went, preaching the Gospel of his Father, and winning men, women, and children to follow Him. Our Saviour had no comfortable home such as you have; often and often He had nowhere to lay His head at night, but weary and hungry after a long day's ministry, He would stretch Himself on the ground wherever He might be at the time, and sleep with the grass for His bed, and the starry sky for His curtains. [Illustration] All through His life, which He spent in loving service towards men, our Saviour was specially kind and tender to little children. One day He was so much inconvenienced by the number of women with children in their arms pressing upon Him, and entreating Him to bless their little ones, that the disciples who were with Him rebuked the mothers; but Jesus said to them "Suffer the little children to come unto Me, and forbid them not, for of such is the Kingdom of Heaven." Then He told those about Him that if only they would receive His teaching of the Kingdom of God, and believe in Him as simply and entirely as little children did, they would inherit Eternal Life; and He would take the little ones who clustered round His feet into His loving arms and bless them. [Illustration] On another occasion when His disciples were disputing as to who should be the greatest in the Kingdom of Heaven, Jesus called a little child and set him in the midst of them, and said whoever should be as meek and humble as a little child should be the greatest; and whoever received a little child with love and reverence in His Name, received Him, and then He warned them to take heed and not despise little children, and never to say or do anything that should stain the innocency of their minds because "In Heaven their angels do always behold the face of My Father." You, little children who read this book, must remember that you are just as much the care of your Good Shepherd now, as were those privileged ones of old who actually saw Him face to face, you must have faith in Him as they had, and believe that though you cannot see Him now, He is still, and always at your side, seeing all you do, hearing all you say, watching over you, and, if you will only let Him, willing to guide you safely to the Home in Heaven which He has gone to prepare for those that love Him and try to do His will. [Illustration: The Last Supper.] Feeling that He must go through Samaria, where He had not yet preached, our Saviour travelled on alone and came to a well which is called Jacob's well; being very weary He seated Himself on the edge to rest. He was very thirsty also, and on a woman coming up with a pitcher, He asked her to draw Him some water: when He had drunk, He said that if she knew who He was she would have asked Him for water instead, for He could give her the Living Water of Everlasting Life. Then He told her who He was, and she went away to the city telling every one she met Whom she had seen: some of the disciples then joined Him, and Jesus remained two days in the city preaching so that many believed in Him, and on the way back into Galilee He healed a nobleman's son of a mortal sickness. [Illustration] On returning to Bethany, Jesus heard that Lazarus, the brother of Martha and Mary, two sisters whom He loved, had died during His absence. Martha met Him weeping, and told Him of their grief saying "Lord, if Thou hadst been here, my brother had not died," for she knew Jesus would have saved him. Jesus Himself wept to see their sorrow, and going to the grave ordered the stone to be rolled away and called Lazarus to come forth; Lazarus did so, and many of those present believed in Jesus, but others went away and told the High Priests and rulers, who were much troubled, for they said "If we let this man go many will believe in Him, and His adherents will become too powerful, and will take our nation away from us." The people of Bethany made a supper for our Lord, and Lazarus and Martha and Mary were there, together with the disciples; the Feast of the Passover was near, and Jerusalem was crowded, and the Chief Priests became still more uneasy for more and more of the people every day believed in Christ, and when they heard He was coming to Jerusalem went out to meet Him with branches of palm, crying "Hosannah--Blessed is He that cometh in the Name of the Lord," and the people said "Behold, the world is gone after Him." [Illustration] Jesus knew that the time was now come when He should depart from this world and go to His Father, and told His disciples so, saying they must not be troubled, for there were many mansions in His Father's House and He was but going before to prepare a place there for them. Then, being sorrowful at heart, our Lord went up to a garden called Gethsemane, and prayed to His Father that the souls of all mankind might be saved and come at last to share the glory of Heaven. Whilst He prayed, one of His disciples, who knew where He was, wickedly betrayed Him to the Chief Priests, and guided a band of soldiers to the garden, who bound Him and led Him to the High Priest Caiaphas, who in turn sent Him to be judged by Pontius Pilate the Governor. [Illustration: The Ascension.] Pilate, when he had heard of what the people accused Jesus, knew that it was for envy they were excited against Him, and washed his hands before the multitude, saying he found no fault in Him, and he would have nothing to do with shedding the blood of an innocent man. "His blood be on us and our children" cried the people and they roughly dragged Him away, and beat Him, and made Him carry a heavy cross of wood up Mount Calvary where they crucified Him, by nailing Him to the cross. Now Mary the Mother of Jesus, and another woman, also named Mary, and many of the disciples had followed in the crowd; they could not save our Lord from His cruel death, but when He was dead, they, together with a good man called Joseph, were allowed to take His body down from the cross, and lay it in a tomb belonging to Joseph, hewn out of a rock in a garden, and they set a great stone upon it. It had been foretold that Jesus should rise again on the third day, so, fearing that His disciples should steal away the body, and pretend that He had risen, the Chief Priests set keepers to guard the tomb. [Illustration] Mary, the Mother of Jesus, and the other Mary, went to visit the tomb early in the morning of the third day, and there was a great earthquake and the Angel of God descended and rolled back the stone and sat upon it, so that the keepers shook with afright, but the Angel said "Fear not, for Jesus is not here, He is risen, as He, said." so the two Marys ran to tell His disciples the great news, and on their way met Jesus Himself, and they fell at His feet and worshipped Him. He told them to go and tell His disciples to go into Galilee and He would meet them there. This He did, and for the last time He met them on a hill side in Bethany, and again taught them, telling them still to go out into the world and preach repentance and the remission of sins in His Name. Then He lifted up His hands, and blessed them, and even as He did so, He was suddenly carried up into Heaven and hidden from their sight. Helen Marion Burnside. [Illustration] 
11083	----	[Illustration: Cleansing the Leper.] THE GOOD CHILD'S LIBRARY. TENTH BOOK. THE PARABLES OF THE SAVIOUR, IN EASY VERSE. WITH BRILLIANT ILLUMINATIONS, FROM ORIGINAL DESIGNS 1851. PREFACE. The object of the "GOOD CHILD'S LIBRARY," is to encourage a taste for Scripture reading, by presenting some of the most interesting portions of the New Testament narrative, in the attractive form of verse. While the children read these verses, they will not only become acquainted with the principal events in the lives of our Blessed Saviour and His Apostles--their travels, their sufferings and their death,--but they will see that the Bible is a readable book, and a book that may be read every day, without any fear of becoming the unhappy being that some persons suppose; and besides this, the tone which is given to the affections, the minds, and the morals of children by such reading, is of almost infinite value. In order to combine things pleasing and things useful, to the greatest possible extent, the publishers have gotten up at a great expense, especially for this work, some of the most beautiful Scripture designs that have ever been published. These pictures are printed in Oil Colours--an expensive, but a finished and highly artistical process, of which the publishers are the originators in this country. Each history is illustrated handsomely with them. There is in all twelve books; each book being complete in itself, and containing a full history. The "GOOD CHILD'S LIBRARY" is composed of the following books: Scenes in the Life of the Saviour. Scenes in the Life of St. Peter. Scenes in the Life of St. John. Scenes in the Life of St. Paul. Scenes in the Lives of St. Matthew, St. Jude, and St. Simon. Scenes in the Lives of St. Stephen, Timothy, St. Mark, and St. Luke. Scenes in the Lives of St. Philip, St. Bartholomew, and St. Thomas. Scenes in the Lives of St. Andrew, St. James, and St. James the Less. The Sermon on the Mount. The Parables of the Saviour. The Miracles of the Saviour. Texts for Children. The Publishers have in preparation another series, embracing Scenes in the Lives of the Patriarchs, Prophets, and Kings, illustrative of the Old Testament Scriptures, to be gotten up in the same style as the present series. THE PARABLES OF THE SAVIOUR. CONTENTS. I. The Sower II. The Tares and the Wheat III. The Unmerciful Servant IV. The Good Samaritan V. The Rich Fool VI. The Lost Sheep VII. The Barren Fig Tree VIII. The Unjust Judge IX. The Pharisee and the Publican X. The Rich Man and Lazarus XI. The Prodigal Son XII. The Ten Virgins XIII. The Judgment XIV. Conclusion THE PARABLES OF THE SAVIOUR. I. OF THE SOWER. Behold a sower going forth To scatter o'er his field, The seed that in the harvest time A rich return will yield. And as he sow'd some precious seeds, Were by the way-side thrown; The fowls of heaven descried them there, And soon the seed were gone. And other seeds fell from his hand On stony places round, And forthwith they sprung up, because They had no depth of ground. But when the sun came up, and warm Sent forth his beaming ray, Because they had no root in earth, They wither'd all away. Among the thorns some others fell, Of these there was no hope; The seeds were choked, they droop'd and died, Soon as the thorns came up. But others fell into good ground, And yielded, as we're told, Some of them thirty, sixty some, And some an hundred fold. The seed that by the wayside fell, Is wisdom in the heart Of him who heareth words of truth, But understandeth not. And he who is the stony place, Is one who hears the word, Anon with joy receiveth it, And follows after good. But tribulation soon assails, And persecutions rise, He then forgets the word of truth, And all his goodness dies. The thorny place is one who hears, And does the truth receive; But finds that cares of life and wealth, His mind and heart deceive. The good and fertile ground is he Who hears and understands; And shows his, life obedient to All that the truth commands. II. THE TARES AND THE WHEAT. My kingdom I will liken to, A man who in his field Sow'd good seed, and expected soon A harvest it would yield. But while his servants slept, there came A wicked enemy, And sow'd his _tares_ among the wheat, And then went on his way. And when the good seed did appear The tares began to show; The servants wonder'd much, and said, "Why, master, thou didst sow "The best of seed all o'er the field, From whence then come these tares?" "An enemy," he said, "hath come Upon us unawares, "And scattered forth his evil seed;" The servants said to him, "Wilt thou then, that into the field We go and gather them?" The master answer'd them and said, "Let both together grow, Until the time of harvest, lest Ye pluck the wheat also. "And when the time of harvest comes, The wheat shall in my barn Be gather'd; but the tares I'll bind And in the fire burn." The children of the kingdom are The good seed that is sown, The tares that came up with the wheat Are of the evil one. The enemy who sow'd the tares, Is he who fell afar; The harvest, when the world shall end; The angels reapers are. The righteous shall be gather'd home Forever with the Lord; And as the tares are burn'd, so shall The wicked be destroy'd. III. THE UNMERCIFUL SERVANT. Once Peter said, "How oft shall I My brother's sin forgive? How oft shall I, if he confess, His penitence receive?" "Till seven times?" The Saviour said, "_This_ is the law of Heaven, Thou shalt thy brother's sin forgive, Till seventy times seven. My kingdom, therefore, I will like Unto a certain king, Who said that he his servants all To an account would bring. The first who came was one who did Ten thousand talents owe; And when he could not pay his lord, His heart was fill'd with wo." The lord unto his servants said, "This debt must now be paid, Go sell his wife and children too, Let payment now be made." The debtor to his master came, And at his feet did fall, "Have patience with me, lord," he said, "And I will pay thee all." His heart was with compassion moved, He freely did relieve His heart of sorrow, for at once He all the debt forgave. This servant then went out and found, One of his fellows near, Who owed to him an hundred pence; And spake to him severe. He took him by the throat, and said, "Now what thou owest, pay, I'll wait no longer for the debt, But it must have to-day." This servant then with grief and wo, Down at his feet did fall: "My fellow servant, patience have, And I will pay thee all." He would not; but with hardness did His own sad case forget; His debtor into prison cast Till he should pay the debt. His fellow servants heard the tale, And all with one accord, To show his base ingratitude, Came sorrowing to their lord. And told him all the servant did; And he was very wroth, And to those present said, "Go call The wicked servant forth." He to him said, "Thou wicked one, Did I not thee forgive Ten thousand talents? Couldst not thou, Thy fellow's debt relieve? "Couldst thou not mercy show to him, As I did show to thee, Forgiving thee at once the debt, As thou desiredst me? Now therefore pay me all the debt, I will not thee forgive, Because thou didst not let him go, And all his we relieve." That mercy then that you would have, You must to others show; merciful and kind to all, And you will mercy know. [Illustration: The Good Samaritan.] IV. THE GOOD SAMARITAN. A certain lawyer came to Christ, With mind and words of strife, And said, "Master, what shall I do, To have eternal life?" The Saviour said, "'Tis written in The Sacred Law at length, That thou shalt love the Lord thy God, With heart and mind and strength; "And thou shalt love thy neighbour too;" He still with Jesus strove; "But tell me who my neighbour is, That I may show him love." The Saviour said, A certain man, Would come to Jericho; He started from Jerusalem, And on his way did go, Until there came some _thieves_, and stripp'd And wounded him and fled, And took with them the traveller's clothes, And left him there half dead. It was not long before a priest Did happen down that way, He look'd, pass'd on, and not a word Unto the man did say. After the priest had gone, there came A Levite passing down, He also look'd, and pass'd along, And went into the town. There soon, however, came along A good Samaritan, His heart was with compassion fill'd; He went up to the man, And found him wounded, bruised and sore, And pour'd in oil and wine, He placed him safe on his own beast, And brought him to the inn. For one night he took care of him, And when about to leave The inn, he said unto the host, "You shall from me receive All that is needful for your pains, If you of him take care; I will repay you all the cost; Let him your kindness share." The Saviour asked him, "Which of these Was neighbour to the man Who fell among the thieves?" He said "The good Samaritan." The Saviour said, "Go do likewise, The suffering ones relieve, Go show them love, and you indeed, Eternal life shall have." [Illustration: MISSING] [Illustration: Son of the Widow of Nain raised.] V. THE RICH FOOL. There was a certain man who had A very large, rich ground, Which, when the harvest time came on, With plenty did abound. His barns were small, and they were fill'd; He said, "What shall I do?" He thought within himself and said, "I know what I will do, "I will tear down these little barns, And build them larger still, And with the fruit my ground doth yield, Abundantly I'll fill. "And I will then say to my soul, 'Thou hast much goods laid up; Now therefore take thine ease, and fill Thy thoughts with earthly hope." But God said unto him, "Thou fool! I will require of thee This very night thy soul; then say "Whose shall this plenty be?" The fool is he who layeth up For himself treasure here, And calleth earthly pleasure, gain, And earthly riches, dear. VI. THE LOST SHEEP. The publicans and sinful poor, Did come to Christ the Lord When He was on the earth, that they Might hear his gracious word. The Scribes and Pharisees complained, That He did these receive; And murmur'd loud to all around, And would not Him believe. "This man receiveth sinful ones, And talks and eats with them;" When Jesus heard it, He did speak This Parable to them: If you should have an hundred sheep, And one of them astray Should go, would you not leave the rest, And go out on your way, To find the one that's lost, and bring It on your shoulder home? And when you've found it, you would say, "Go, bid my neighbours come, "That they may all rejoice with me, For I have found that one Of all my sheep, that left the fold, And wander'd off alone." "E'en so," said Jesus, "there is joy In Heaven when sinners come; The angels strike their harps anew, And welcome sinners home." VII. THE BARREN FIG TREE. A certain man a fig tree had, He look'd for fruit thereon, And year by year he came and sought, But still it yielded none. He said unto his servant, "Wait No longer, cut it down; I've sought these three years here for fruit, And finding there is none, "Why cumbereth it the ground?" "O, no, Let it alone this year," The servant said, "I'll nurse it well, Perhaps it then will bear. "But if it will not bear, when I Have dug and dress'd around, Why, cut it down, it will not yield, It cumbereth the ground." Just so it is with those who hear The Saviour's welcome voice; Who still refuse His grace to know, And make the world their choice. The Saviour will not always bear With those who from Him stay; And those who long His grace despise, Will grieve His love away. VIII. THE UNJUST JUDGE. He spake another Parable, To show that men should pray And never faint, but pray in faith, And plead from day to day. There was a judge, who fear'd not God, Nor yet regarded man; There came to him a widow poor, His judgment to obtain. "Avenge me of mine enemy," She cried from day to day; And though he did not her regard, Yet she did daily pray. And soon he said within himself, "Though I regard no man, And fear not God, yet to her words Resistance is in vain. "For if she thus, with pleadings loud, Besets my door each day, Her coming soon will weary me, I'll send her then away. "I will at once grant her request, And judge her enemy, And then she will depart in peace, And no more trouble me." Now hear what the unjust judge saith; And will not God regard His children when to Him they cry, Depending on His word? He will regard their humble prayer Their simplest, feeblest sigh, And stooping down, will bless them from His gracious Throne on high. IX. THE PHARISEE AND THE PUBLICAN. Now some the Saviour spake to there, Were good in their own eyes, Who look'd with scorn upon the poor, And did their life despise. He spake to _these_ a Parable, And said, There were two men, One of them was a Pharisee, And one a Publican, Who went into the Temple once To offer solemn prayer, The one did show a haughty face, The other shed a tear. The one, he pray'd, "I thank Thee, God, I'm not as other men, I am not an extortioner, Nor as this Publican." The other did not dare so much As lift his eyes to heaven, But smote upon his breast and pray'd' That he might be forgiven. The Pharisee went to his house, Elated with his pride; The Publican turn'd towards his home, The rather justified. For those who do exalt themselves, Shall feel humility; But those who are abased on earth, Shall high exalted be. Now when you come to God in prayer, Confess your every sin; And if you humble are, He'll give To you His love Divine. [Illustration: Christ Stilling the Tempest.] [Illustration: MISSING] X. THE RICH MAN AND LAZARUS. There, was a certain rich man once Who sumptuously did fare, His form was clothed in purple fine And costly linen rare. There also was a poor man laid, Down at the rich man's gate, The crumbs that from the table fell Were given him to eat. It came to pass the poor man died, And he was borne away, In Abraham's bosom, to rejoice In an eternal day. And soon the rich man also died, His death was one of gloom, But he was robed in pomp, and laid Within a costly tomb. In hell he lifted up his eyes, And seeing Abraham, With Lazarus in his bosom, cried, And call'd him by his name, And said, "O! father Abraham, I am with anguish wrung, Send Lazarus, that with water, he May cool my parched tongue." But Abraham said, "Remember, son, That thou hadst thy good things, When thou didst live, and Lazarus Had nought but evil things. "And now he's comforted, and here He shall forever live, But thou art cast away and shall Great pain and sorrow have. "And there's the gulf impassable 'Tis placed 'twixt thee and me, I cannot call thee out from thence, Nor send him down to thee." The rich man said, "I therefore pray That thou wouldst Lazarus send, Unto my brethren five at home, To warn them of my end." He answer'd, "No, they have the Law And Prophets often read; If they're not warn'd, they'll not believe Though one rose from the dead." How sad it is to live in sin, And spend our fleeting breath In vanity, so when God calls We're unprepared for death. Let us love God with all our hearts, And lean upon his Word, That after death we all may reign Forever with the Lord. [Illustration: MISSING] XI. THE PRODIGAL SON. "There's joy divine," the Saviour said, "Among the bless'd in Heaven, When one on earth of sin repents, And feels his sin forgiven." There was a man who had two sons; The _younger_ to him said, "Give me the share that falls to me;" And he division made. And soon the younger son prepared To leave his father's home, And all the comforts he enjoy'd, Out o'er the world to roam. How many children leave their home To wander far and wide, To roam o'er hill and desert far, Or on the foaming tide. But still they feel, whate'er they do Wherever they may roam, Whatever pleasures they may have, _There is no place like home._ The younger son took all he had, And soon the whole was spent; A famine rising in the land, He soon began to want. He therefore went and hired himself Unto a citizen; And out into the field he went To feed his master's swine. And he was hungry; hunger came So pressing that he fain Would have partaken of the husks With which he fed the swine. And there he came unto himself, And thought upon his home, "I plenty had when I was there, To what am I now come? "My father's hired servants have Great plenty and to spare, While I am perishing for food, And with the swine do share. "I well remember father's house, And brother too so kind; Why did I leave them, here to die, This poverty to find? "I am determined what to do; I will at once arise, And to my father's house will go, And there, with streaming eyes, "Will say, 'O! father, I have sinn'd, And wander'd from thee far, Call me not _son_, but make me as Thy hired servants are." He rose and wander'd towards his home, With grief and tearful eye, But when he was a great way off, His father did him spy, And ran and fell upon his neck, And kiss'd him o'er and o'er; Rejoiced that he had found the son, He thought he'd see no more. "Go call the neighbours, send the word Of joyful news around, This son, once dead, now lives again, Though lost, he now is found. "Go call my servants, bid them here The costliest raiment bring; Bring shoes to put upon his feet, And on his hand a ring. "And let us kill the fatted calf, And all rejoice around; My son, though dead, now lives again, Though lost, he now is found." [Illustration: Healing the Blind.] XII. THE TEN VIRGINS. My kingdom I will liken to Ten virgins, who to meet The bridegroom, with their lamps went forth, With welcome him to greet. Now five of them were counted _wise_, For they provision made, To fill and trim their lamps by night; The others no oil had. The bridegroom tarried very long; This they did not expect, Their eyes with watch had heavy grown, They laid them down and slept. At midnight a loud cry was heard, "The bridegroom cometh; go Ye out to meet him with your lamps, And to him honour show." The virgins rose to trim their lamps; The wise ones took their light, The foolish ones who had no oil Were found in gloomy night. They said unto the virgins wise, "Of your oil, give us some;" They answered, "We have but enough; But to the city come, "And buy of oil, and trim your lamps;" So while they went to buy, A voice was heard which said aloud, "The bridegroom draweth nigh." Those virgins wise who trimm'd their lamps, Went forth to meet the guest, And hail'd him with delight, and went With him into the feast. The foolish virgins came and knock'd, Admittance to obtain; The bridegroom answer'd them, and said. "Ye cannot entrance gain. "I know you not, then hence depart, Your coming is too late, Those only with me enter in, Who for my coming wait." The coming of the Son of Man, Is like a thief at night, Let us be watchful, that we may Be children of the light. That when He coineth, we may have Abundant entrance given, Into the glorious, happy feast, The feast of love in Heaven. [Illustration: The Ten Virgins.] XIII. THE JUDGMENT. The Son of Man--the Son of God, Shall in His glory come To judge the world, and then to bring His faithful children home. And when He comes, around His throne Bright angels shall appear, Who to their harps shall sing, while saints The heavenly music hear. All nations shall be gather'd there, And with His waving hand, He'll them divide; some on His right, Some on his left shall stand. Just as the shepherd doth divide The sheep and goats apart; The Saviour will divide the good From those of evil heart. Upon His right, the saints array'd With robes of white shall stand; The wicked, who refused His word, Are placed on His left hand. Then to the righteous He will say, "Ye blessed children come, Because ye have my will obey'd, I'll bring you to my home, "Which I prepared for you before The spacious world was made; Ye are my children, and shall be With glory bright array'd." But unto those on His left hand, He'll say, "Depart from me, I know ye not, ye always sin, And do iniquity. "Depart from me, ye cursed ones, To everlasting fire, Because ye did not keep my word, Receive my vengeful ire, "When I was hungry, and did ask For bread, ye did deny; When I was parch'd and sick and faint, Ye _then_ did pass me by. "My children fed and clothed me too, When I was sick and faint; They came to me, and did with love Supply my every want "But ye refused me, and did mock My little children too, Now therefore _hence, depart from me,_ For ye I never knew." God doth require of us to show In _deed_ as well as word, To all around, that we indeed Are children of the Lord, By doing good to others' woes Relieving their distress; Supplying all their wants, and thus Their heavy spirits bless. And he hath promised, that if we This kindness show to them, He will our every act regard, As kindness done to Him. XIV. CONCLUSION. How simple were the Saviour's words, How great the truths He taught; How much He suffer'd here below, What rich salvation brought! O! let us hear His gracious word, His Heavenly law obey, That we may rise and reign with Him, In an eternal day. The pleasures of the world are vain, And swiftly pass away; And those who trust in them, in death Can have no cheering ray, Of hope or faith, to brighten up The path of gloom and dread, But they with fear, must enter in The regions of the dead. Now in the youthful time of life, Lean on the Saviour's word, And think how happy it will be To love and fear the Lord. Then when your days on earth are past, You'll be forever blest; Your joys will then eternal flow From Jesus' loving breast. THE END. 
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11044	----	Transcribed by David Price, email ccx074@coventry.ac.uk THE EXISTENCE OF GOD INTRODUCTION An ancestor of the French divine who under the name of Fenelon has made for himself a household name in England as in France, was Bertrand de Salignac, Marquis de la Mothe Fenelon, who in 1572, as ambassador for France, was charged to soften as much as he could the resentment of our Queen Elizabeth when news came of the massacre of St. Bartholomew. Our Fenelon, claimed in brotherhood by Christians of every denomination, was born nearly eighty years after that time, at the chateau of Fenelon in Perigord, on the 6th of August, 1651. To the world he is Fenelon; he was Francois de Salignac de la Mothe Fenelon to the France of his own time. Fenelon was taught at home until the age of twelve, then sent to the University of Cahors, where he began studies that were continued at Paris in the College du Plessis. There he fastened upon theology, and there he preached, at the age of fifteen, his first sermon. He entered next into the seminary of Saint Sulpice, where he took holy orders in the year 1675, at the age of twenty-four. As a priest, while true to his own Church, he fastened on Faith, Hope, and Charity as the abiding forces of religion, and for him also the greatest of these was Charity. During the next three years of his life Fenelon was among the young priests who preached and catechised in the church of St. Sulpice and laboured in the parish. He wrote for St. Sulpice Litanies of the Infant Jesus, and had thought of going out as missionary to the Levant. The Archbishop of Paris, however, placed him at the head of a community of "New Catholics," whose function was to confirm new converts in their faith, and help to bring into the fold those who appeared willing to enter. Fenelon took part also in some of the Conferences on Scripture that were held at Saint Germain and Versailles between 1672 and 1685. In 1681 an uncle, who was Bishop of Sarlat, resigned in Fenelon's favour the Deanery of Carenas, which produced an annual income of three or four thousand livres. It was while he held this office that Fenelon published a book on the "Education of Girls," at the request of the Duchess of Beauvilliers, who asked for guidance in the education of her children. Fenelon sought the friendship of Bossuet, who revised for him his next book, a "Refutation of the System of Malebranche concerning Nature and Grace." His next book, written just before the Revocation of the Edict of Nantes in 1685, opposed the lawfulness of the ministrations of the Protestant clergy; and after the Edict, Fenelon was, on the recommendation of Bossuet, placed at the head of the Catholic mission to Poitou. He brought to his work of conversion or re-conversion Charity, and a spirit of concession that brought on him the attacks of men unlike in temper. When Louis XIV. placed his grandson, the young Duke of Burgundy, under the care of the Duke of Beauvilliers, the Duke of Beauvilliers chose Fenelon for teacher of the pupil who was heir presumptive to the throne. Fenelon's "Fables" were written as part of his educational work. He wrote also for the young Duke of Burgundy his "Telemaque"--used only in MS.--and his "Dialogues of the Dead." While thus living in high favour at Court, Fenelon sought nothing for himself or his friends, although at times he was even in want of money. In 1693--as preceptor of a royal prince rather than as author--Fenelon was received into the French Academy. In 1694 Fenelon was made Abbot of Saint-Valery, and at the end of that year he wrote an anonymous letter to Louis XIV. upon wrongful wars and other faults committed in his reign. A copy of it has been found in Fenelon's handwriting. The king may not have read it, or may not have identified the author, who was not stayed by it from promotion in February of the next year (1695) to the Archbishopric of Cambray. He objected that the holding of this office was inconsistent with his duties as preceptor of the King's grandchildren. Louis replied that he could live at Court only for three months in the year, and during the other nine direct the studies of his pupils from Cambray. Bossuet took part in the consecration of his friend Fenelon as Archbishop of Cambray; but after a time division of opinion arose. Jeanne Marie Bouvier de la Mothe Guyon became in 1676 a widow at the age of twenty-eight, with three children, for whose maintenance she gave up part of her fortune, and she then devoted herself to the practice and the preaching of a spiritual separation of the soul from earthly cares, and rest in God. She said with Galahad, "If I lose myself, I save myself." Her enthusiasm for a pure ideal, joined to her eloquence, affected many minds. It provoked opposition in the Church and in the Court, which was for the most part gross and self-seeking. Madame Guyon was attacked, even imprisoned. Fenelon felt the charm of her spiritual aspiration, and, without accepting its form, was her defender. Bossuet attacked her views. Fenelon published "Maxims of the Saints on the Interior Life." Bossuet wrote on "The States of Prayer." These were the rival books in a controversy about what was called "Quietism." Bossuet afterwards wrote a "Relation sur le Quietisme," of which Fenelon's copy, charged with his own marginal comments, is in the British Museum. In March, 1699, the Pope finally decided against Fenelon, and condemned his "Maxims of the Saints." Fenelon read from his pulpit the brief of condemnation, accepted the decision of the Pope, and presented to his church a piece of gold plate, on which the Angel of Truth was represented trampling many errors under foot, and among them his own "Maxims of the Saints." At Court, Fenelon was out of favour. "Telemaque," written for the young Duke of Burgundy, had not been published; but a copy having been obtained through a servant, it was printed, and its ideal of a true king and a true Court was so unlike his Majesty Louis XIV. and the Court of France, and the image of what ought not to be was so like what was, that it was resented as a libel. "Telemaque" was publicly condemned; Fenelon was banished from Court, and restrained within the limits of his diocese. Though separated from his pupil, the young Duke of Burgundy (who died in 1712), Fenelon retained his pupil's warm affection. The last years of his own life Fenelon gave to his work in Cambray, until his death on the 7th of January, 1715. He wrote many works, of which this is one, and they have been collected into twenty volumes. The translation here given was anonymous, and was first published in the year 1713. H. M. THE EXISTENCE OF GOD SECTION I. Metaphysical Proofs of the Existence of God are not within Everybody's reach. I cannot open my eyes without admiring the art that shines throughout all nature; the least cast suffices to make me perceive the Hand that makes everything. Men accustomed to meditate upon metaphysical truths, and to trace up things to their first principles, may know the Deity by its idea; and I own that is a sure way to arrive at the source of all truth. But the more direct and short that way is, the more difficult and unpassable it is for the generality of mankind who depend on their senses and imagination. An ideal demonstration is so simple, that through its very simplicity it escapes those minds that are incapable of operations purely intellectual. In short, the more perfect is the way to find the First Being, the fewer men there are that are capable to follow it. SECT. II. Moral Proofs of the Existence of God are fitted to every man's capacity. But there is a less perfect way, level to the meanest capacity. Men the least exercised in reasoning, and the most tenacious of the prejudices of the senses, may yet with one look discover Him who has drawn Himself in all His works. The wisdom and power He has stamped upon everything He has made are seen, as it were, in a glass by those that cannot contemplate Him in His own idea. This is a sensible and popular philosophy, of which any man free from passion and prejudice is capable. Humana autem anima rationalis est, quae mortalibus peccati poena tenebatur, ad hoc diminutionis redacta ut per conjecturas rerum visibilium ad intelligenda invisibilia niteretur; that is, "The human soul is still rational, but in such a manner that, being by the punishment of sin detained in the bonds of death, it is so far reduced that it can only endeavour to arrive at the knowledge of things invisible through the visible." SECT. III. Why so few Persons are attentive to the Proofs Nature affords of the Existence of God. If a great number of men of subtle and penetrating wit have not discovered God with one cast of the eye upon nature, it is not matter of wonder; for either the passions they have been tossed by have still rendered them incapable of any fixed reflection, or the false prejudices that result from passions have, like a thick cloud, interposed between their eyes and that noble spectacle. A man deeply concerned in an affair of great importance, that should take up all the attention of his mind, might pass several days in a room treating about his concerns without taking notice of the proportions of the chamber, the ornaments of the chimney, and the pictures about him, all which objects would continually be before his eyes, and yet none of them make any impression upon him. In this manner it is that men spend their lives; everything offers God to their sight, and yet they see it nowhere. "He was in the world, and the world was made by Him, and nevertheless the world did not know Him"--In mundo erat, et mundus per ipsum factus est, et mundus eum non cognovit. They pass away their lives without perceiving that sensible representation of the Deity. Such is the fascination of worldly trifles that obscures their eyes! Fascinatio nugacitatis obscurat bona. Nay, oftentimes they will not so much as open them, but rather affect to keep them shut, lest they should find Him they do not look for. In short, what ought to help most to open their eyes serves only to close them faster; I mean the constant duration and regularity of the motions which the Supreme Wisdom has put in the universe. St. Austin tells us those great wonders have been debased by being constantly renewed; and Tully speaks exactly in the same manner. "By seeing every day the same things, the mind grows familiar with them as well as the eyes. It neither admires nor inquires into the causes of effects that are ever seen to happen in the same manner, as if it were the novelty, and not the importance of the thing itself, that should excite us to such an inquiry." Sed assiduitate quotidiana et consuetudine oculorum assuescunt animi, neque admirantur neque requirunt rationes earum rerum, quas semper vident, perinde quasi novit as nos magis quam magnitudo rerum debeat ad exquirendas causas excitare. SECT. IV. All Nature shows the Existence of its Maker. But, after all, whole nature shows the infinite art of its Maker. When I speak of an art, I mean a collection of proper means chosen on purpose to arrive at a certain end; or, if you please, it is an order, a method, an industry, or a set design. Chance, on the contrary, is a blind and necessary cause, which neither sets in order nor chooses anything, and which has neither will nor understanding. Now I maintain that the universe bears the character and stamp of a cause infinitely powerful and industrious; and, at the same time, that chance (that is, the blind and fortuitous concourse of causes necessary and void of reason) cannot have formed this universe. To this purpose it is not amiss to call to mind the celebrated comparisons of the ancients. SECT. V. Noble Comparisons proving that Nature shows the Existence of its Maker. First Comparison, drawn from Homer's "Iliad." Who will believe that so perfect a poem as Homer's "Iliad" was not the product of the genius of a great poet, and that the letters of the alphabet, being confusedly jumbled and mixed, were by chance, as it were by the cast of a pair of dice, brought together in such an order as is necessary to describe, in verses full of harmony and variety, so many great events; to place and connect them so well together; to paint every object with all its most graceful, most noble, and most affecting attendants; in short, to make every person speak according to his character in so natural and so forcible a manner? Let people argue and subtilise upon the matter as much as they please, yet they never will persuade a man of sense that the "Iliad" was the mere result of chance. Cicero said the same in relation to Ennius's "Annals;" adding that chance could never make one single verse, much less a whole poem. How then can a man of sense be induced to believe, with respect to the universe, a work beyond contradiction more wonderful than the "Iliad," what his reason will never suffer him to believe in relation to that poem? Let us attend another comparison, which we owe to St. Gregory Nazianzenus. SECT. VI. Second Comparison, drawn from the Sound of Instruments. If we heard in a room, from behind a curtain, a soft and harmonious instrument, should we believe that chance, without the help of any human hand, could have formed such an instrument? Should we say that the strings of a violin, for instance, had of their own accord ranged and extended themselves on a wooden frame, whose several parts had glued themselves together to form a cavity with regular apertures? Should we maintain that the bow formed without art should be pushed by the wind to touch every string so variously, and with such nice justness? What rational man could seriously entertain a doubt whether a human hand touched such an instrument with so much harmony? Would he not cry out, "It is a masterly hand that plays upon it?" Let us proceed to inculcate the same truth. SECT. VII. Third Comparison, drawn from a Statue. If a man should find in a desert island a fine statue of marble, he would undoubtedly immediately say, "Sure, there have been men here formerly; I perceive the workmanship of a skilful statuary; I admire with what niceness he has proportioned all the limbs of this body, in order to give them so much beauty, gracefulness, majesty, life, tenderness, motion, and action!" What would such a man answer if anybody should tell him, "That's your mistake; a statuary never carved that figure. It is made, I confess, with an excellent gusto, and according to the rules of perfection; but yet it is chance alone made it. Among so many pieces of marble there was one that formed itself of its own accord in this manner; the rains and winds have loosened it from the mountains; a violent storm has thrown it plumb upright on this pedestal, which had prepared itself to support it in this place. It is a perfect Apollo, like that of Belvedere; a Venus that equals that of the Medicis; an Hercules, like that of Farnese. You would think, it is true, that this figure walks, lives, thinks, and is just going to speak. But, however, it is not in the least beholden to art; and it is only a blind stroke of chance that has thus so well finished and placed it." SECT. VIII. Fourth Comparison, drawn from a Picture. If a man had before his eyes a fine picture, representing, for example, the passage of the Red Sea, with Moses, at whose voice the waters divide themselves, and rise like two walls to let the Israelites pass dryfoot through the deep, he would see, on the one side, that innumerable multitude of people, full of confidence and joy, lifting up their hands to heaven; and perceive, on the other side, King Pharaoh with the Egyptians frighted and confounded at the sight of the waves that join again to swallow them up. Now, in good earnest, who would be so bold as to affirm that a chambermaid, having by chance daubed that piece of cloth, the colours had of their own accord ranged themselves in order to produce that lively colouring, those various attitudes, those looks so well expressing different passions, that elegant disposition of so many figures without confusion, that decent plaiting of draperies, that management of lights, that degradation of colours, that exact perspective--in short, all that the noblest genius of a painter can invent? If there were no more in the case than a little foam at the mouth of a horse, I own, as the story goes, and which I readily allow without examining into it, that a stroke of a pencil thrown in a pet by a painter might once in many ages happen to express it well. But, at least, the painter must beforehand have, with design, chosen the most proper colours to represent that foam, in order to prepare them at the end of his pencil; and, therefore, it were only a little chance that had finished what art had begun. Besides, this work of art and chance together being only a little foam, a confused object, and so most proper to credit a stroke of chance--an object without form, that requires only a little whitish colour dropped from a pencil, without any exact figure or correction of design. What comparison is there between that foam with a whole design of a large continued history, in which the most fertile fancy and the boldest genius, supported by the perfect knowledge of rules, are scarce sufficient to perform what makes an excellent picture? I cannot prevail with myself to leave these instances without desiring the reader to observe that the most rational men are naturally extreme loath to think that beasts have no manner of understanding, and are mere machines. Now, whence proceeds such an invincible averseness to that opinion in so many men of sense? It is because they suppose, with reason, that motions so exact, and according to the rules of perfect mechanism, cannot be made without some industry; and that artless matter alone cannot perform what argues so much knowledge. Hence it appears that sound reason naturally concludes that matter alone cannot, either by the simple laws of motion, or by the capricious strokes of chance, make even animals that are mere machines. Those philosophers themselves, who will not allow beasts to have any reasoning faculty, cannot avoid acknowledging that what they suppose to be blind and artless in these machines is yet full of wisdom and art in the First Mover, who made their springs and regulated their movements. Thus the most opposite philosophers perfectly agree in acknowledging that matter and chance cannot, without the help of art, produce all we observe in animals. SECT. IX. A Particular Examination of Nature. After these comparisons, about which I only desire the reader to consult himself, without any argumentation, I think it is high time to enter into a detail of Nature. I do not pretend to penetrate through the whole; who is able to do it? Neither do I pretend to enter into any physical discussion. Such way of reasoning requires a certain deep knowledge, which abundance of men of wit and sense never acquired; and, therefore, I will offer nothing to them but the simple prospect of the face of Nature. I will entertain them with nothing but what everybody knows, and which requires only a little calm and serious attention. SECT. X. Of the General Structure of the Universe. Let us, in the first place, stop at the great object that first strikes our sight, I mean the general structure of the universe. Let us cast our eyes on this earth that bears us. Let us look on that vast arch of the skies that covers us; those immense regions of air, and depths of water that surround us; and those bright stars that light us. A man who lives without reflecting thinks only on the parts of matter that are near him, or have any relation to his wants. He only looks upon the earth as on the floor of his chamber, and on the sun that lights him in the daytime as on the candle that lights him in the night. His thoughts are confined within the place he inhabits. On the contrary, a man who is used to contemplate and reflect carries his looks further, and curiously considers the almost infinite abysses that surround him on all sides. A large kingdom appears then to him but a little corner of the earth; the earth itself is no more to his eyes than a point in the mass of the universe; and he admires to see himself placed in it, without knowing which way he came there. SECT. XI. Of the Earth. Who is it that hung and poised this motionless globe of the earth? Who laid its foundation? Nothing seems more vile and contemptible; for the meanest wretches tread it under foot; but yet it is in order to possess it that we part with the greatest treasures. If it were harder than it is, man could not open its bosom to cultivate it; and if it were less hard it could not bear them, and they would sink everywhere as they do in sand, or in a bog. It is from the inexhaustible bosom of the earth we draw what is most precious. That shapeless, vile, and rude mass assumes the most various forms; and yields alone, by turns, all the goods we can desire. That dirty soil transforms itself into a thousand fine objects that charm the eye. In the compass of one year it turns into branches, twigs, buds, leaves, blossoms, fruits, and seeds, in order, by those various shapes, to multiply its liberalities to mankind. Nothing exhausts the earth; the more we tear her bowels the more she is liberal. After so many ages, during which she has produced everything, she is not yet worn out. She feels no decay from old age, and her entrails still contain the same treasures. A thousand generations have passed away, and returned into her bosom. Everything grows old, she alone excepted: for she grows young again every year in the spring. She is never wanting to men; but foolish men are wanting to themselves in neglecting to cultivate her. It is through their laziness and extravagance they suffer brambles and briars to grow instead of grapes and corn. They contend for a good they let perish. The conquerors leave uncultivated the ground for the possession of which they have sacrificed the lives of so many thousand men, and have spent their own in hurry and trouble. Men have before them vast tracts of land uninhabited and uncultivated; and they turn mankind topsy-turvy for one nook of that neglected ground in dispute. The earth, if well cultivated, would feed a hundred times more men than now she does. Even the unevenness of ground which at first seems to be a defect turns either into ornament or profit. The mountains arose and the valleys descended to the place the Lord had appointed for them. Those different grounds have their particular advantages, according to the divers aspects of the sun. In those deep valleys grow fresh and tender grass to feed cattle. Next to them opens a vast champaign covered with a rich harvest. Here, hills rise like an amphitheatre, and are crowned with vineyards and fruit trees. There high mountains carry aloft their frozen brows to the very clouds, and the torrents that run down from them become the springs of rivers. The rocks that show their craggy tops bear up the earth of mountains just as the bones bear up the flesh in human bodies. That variety yields at once a ravishing prospect to the eye, and, at the same time, supplies the divers wants of man. There is no ground so barren but has some profitable property. Not only black and fertile soil but even clay and gravel recompense a man's toil. Drained morasses become fruitful; sand for the most part only covers the surface of the earth; and when, the husbandman has the patience to dig deeper he finds a new ground that grows fertile as fast as it is turned and exposed to the rays of the sun. There is scarce any spot of ground absolutely barren if a man do not grow weary of digging, and turning it to the enlivening sun, and if he require no more from it than it is proper to bear, amidst stones and rocks there is sometimes excellent pasture; and their cavities have veins, which, being penetrated by the piercing rays of the sun, furnish plants with most savoury juices for the feeding of herds and flocks. Even sea-coasts that seem to be the most sterile and wild yield sometimes either delicious fruits or most wholesome medicines that are wanting in the most fertile countries. Besides, it is the effect of a wise over-ruling providence that no land yields all that is useful to human life. For want invites men to commerce, in order to supply one another's necessities. It is therefore that want that is the natural tie of society between nations: otherwise all the people of the earth would be reduced to one sort of food and clothing; and nothing would invite them to know and visit one another. SECT. XII. Of Plants. All that the earth produces being corrupted, returns into her bosom, and becomes the source of a new production. Thus she resumes all she has given in order to give it again. Thus the corruption of plants, and the excrements of the animals she feeds, feed her, and improve her fertility. Thus, the more she gives the more she resumes; and she is never exhausted, provided they who cultivate her restore to her what she has given. Everything comes from her bosom, everything returns to it, and nothing is lost in it. Nay, all seeds multiply there. If, for instance, you trust the earth with some grains of corn, as they corrupt they germinate and spring; and that teeming parent restores with usury more ears than she had received grains. Dig into her entrails, you will find in them stone and marble for the most magnificent buildings. But who is it that has laid up so many treasures in her bosom, upon condition that they should continually produce themselves anew? Behold how many precious and useful metals; how many minerals designed for the conveniency of man! Admire the plants that spring from the earth: they yield food for the healthy, and remedies for the sick. Their species and virtues are innumerable. They deck the earth, yield verdure, fragrant flowers, and delicious fruits. Do you see those vast forests that seem as old as the world? Those trees sink into the earth by their roots, as deep as their branches shoot up to the sky. Their roots defend them against the winds, and fetch up, as it were by subterranean pipes, all the juices destined to feed the trunk. The trunk itself is covered with a tough bark that shelters the tender wood from the injuries of the air. The branches distribute by several pipes the sap which the roots had gathered up in the trunk. In summer the boughs protect us with their shadow against the scorching rays of the sun. In winter, they feed the fire that preserves in us natural heat. Nor is burning the only use wood is fit for; it is a soft though solid and durable matter, to which the hand of man gives, with ease, all the forms he pleases for the greatest works of architecture and navigation. Moreover, fruit trees by bending their boughs towards the earth seem to offer their crop to man. The trees and plants, by letting their fruit or seed drop down, provide for a numerous posterity about them. The tenderest plant, the least of herbs and pulse are, in little, in a small seed, all that is displayed in the highest plants and largest tree. Earth that never changes produces all those alterations in her bosom. SECT. XIII. Of Water. Let us now behold what we call water. It is a liquid, clear, and transparent body. On the one hand it flows, slips, and runs away; and on the other it assumes all the forms of the bodies that surround it, having properly none of its own. If water were more rarefied, or thinner, it would be a kind of air; and so the whole surface of the earth would be dry and sterile. There would be none but volatiles; no living creature could swim; no fish could live; nor would there be any traffic by navigation. What industrious and sagacious hand has found means to thicken the water, by subtilising the air, and so well to distinguish those two sorts of fluid bodies? If water were somewhat more rarefied, it could no longer sustain those prodigious floating buildings, called ships. Bodies that have the least ponderosity would presently sink under water. Who is it that took care to frame so just a configuration of parts, and so exact a degree of motion, as to make water so fluid, so penetrating, so slippery, so incapable of any consistency: and yet so strong to bear, and so impetuous to carry off and waft away, the most unwieldy bodies? It is docile; man leads it about as a rider does a well- managed horse. He distributes it as he pleases; he raises it to the top of steep mountains, and makes use of its weight to let it fall, in order to rise again, as high as it was at first. But man who leads waters with such absolute command is in his turn led by them. Water is one of the greatest moving powers that man can employ to supply his defects in the most necessary arts, either through the smallness or weakness of his body. But the waters which, notwithstanding their fluidity, are such ponderous bodies, do nevertheless rise above our heads, and remain a long while hanging there. Do you see those clouds that fly, as it were, on the wings of the winds? If they should fall, on a sudden, in watery pillars, rapid like a torrent, they would drown and destroy everything where they should happen to fall, and the other grounds would remain dry. What hand keeps them in those pendulous reservatories, and permits them to fall only by drops as if they distilled through a gardener's watering-pot? Whence comes it that in some hot countries, where scarce any rain ever falls, the nightly dews are so plentiful that they supply the want of rain; and that in other countries, such as the banks of the Nile and Ganges, the regular inundation of rivers, at certain seasons of the year, never fails to make up what the inhabitants are deficient in for the watering of the ground? Can one imagine measures better concerted to render all countries fertile and fruitful? Thus water quenches, not only the thirst of men, but likewise of arid lands: and He who gave us that fluid body has carefully distributed it throughout the earth, like pipes in a garden. The waters fall from the tops of mountains where their reservatories are placed. They gather into rivulets in the bottom of valleys. Rivers run in winding streams through vast tracts of land, the better to water them; and, at last, they precipitate themselves into the sea, in order to make it the centre of commerce for all nations. That ocean, which seems to be placed in the midst of lands, to make an eternal separation between them, is, on the contrary, the common rendezvous of all the people of the earth, who could not go by land from one end of the world to the other without infinite fatigue, tedious journeys, and numberless dangers. It is by that trackless road, across the bottomless deep, that the whole world shakes hands with the new; and that the new supplies the old with so many conveniences and riches. The waters, distributed with so much art, circulate in the earth, just as the blood does in a man's body. But besides this perpetual circulation of the water, there is besides the flux and reflux of the sea. Let us not inquire into the causes of so mysterious an effect. What is certain is that the tide carries, or brings us back to certain places, at precise hours. Who is it that makes it withdraw, and then come back with so much regularity? A little more or less motion in that fluid mass would disorder all nature; for a little more motion in a tide or flood would drown whole kingdoms. Who is it that knew how to take such exact measures in immense bodies? Who is it that knew so well how to keep a just medium between too much and too little? What hand has set to the sea the unmovable boundary it must respect through the series of all ages by telling it: There, thy proud waves shall come and break? But these waters so fluid become, on a sudden, during the winter, as hard as rocks. The summits of high mountains have, even at all times, ice and snow, which are the springs of rivers, and soaking pasture-grounds render them more fertile. Here waters are sweet to quench the thirst of man; there they are briny, and yield a salt that seasons our meat, and makes it incorruptible. In fine, if I lift up my eyes, I perceive in the clouds that fly above us a sort of hanging seas that serve to temper the air, break the fiery rays of the sun, and water the earth when it is too dry. What hand was able to hang over our heads those great reservatories of waters? What hand takes care never to let them fall but in moderate showers? SECT. XIV. Of the Air. After having considered the waters, let us now contemplate another mass yet of far greater extent. Do you see what is called air? It is a body so pure, so subtle, and so transparent, that the rays of the stars, seated at a distance almost infinite from us, pierce quite through it, without difficulty, and in an instant, to light our eyes. Had this fluid body been a little less subtle, it would either have intercepted the day from us, or at most would have left us but a duskish and confused light, just as when the air is filled with thick fogs. We live plunged in abysses of air, as fishes do in abysses of water. As the water, if it were subtilised, would become a kind of air, which would occasion the death of fishes, so the air would deprive us of breath if it should become more humid and thicker. In such a case we should drown in the waves of that thickened air, just as a terrestrial animal drowns in the sea. Who is it that has so nicely purified that air we breathe? If it were thicker it would stifle us; and if it were too subtle it would want that softness which continually feeds the vitals of man. We should be sensible everywhere of what we experience on the top of the highest mountains, where the air is so thin that it yields no sufficient moisture and nourishment for the lungs. But what invisible power raises and lays so suddenly the storms of that great fluid body, of which those of the sea are only consequences? From what treasury come forth the winds that purify the air, cool scorching heats, temper the sharpness of winter, and in an instant change the whole face of heaven? On the wings of those winds the clouds fly from one end of the horizon to the other. It is known that certain winds blow in certain seas, at some stated seasons. They continue a fixed time, and others succeed them, as it were on purpose, to render navigation both commodious and regular: so that if men are but as patient, and as punctual as the winds, they may, with ease, perform the longest voyages. SECT. XV. Of Fire. Do you see that fire that seems kindled in the stars, and spreads its light on all sides? Do you see that flame which certain mountains vomit up, and which the earth feeds with sulphur within its entrails? That same fire peaceably lurks in the veins of flints, and expects to break out, till the collision of another body excites it to shock cities and mountains. Man has found the way to kindle it, and apply it to all his uses, both to bend the hardest metals, and to feed with wood, even in the most frozen climes, a flame that serves him instead of the sun, when the sun removes from him. That subtle flame glides and penetrates into all seeds. It is, as it were, the soul of all living things; it consumes all that is impure, and renews what it has purified. Fire lends its force and activity to weak men. It blows up, on a sudden, buildings and rocks. But have we a mind to confine it to a more moderate use? It warms man, and makes all sorts of food fit for his eating. The ancients, in admiration of fire, believed it to be a celestial gift, which man had stolen from the gods. SECT. XVI. Of Heaven. It is time to lift up our eyes to heaven. What power has built over our heads so vast and so magnificent an arch? What a stupendous variety of admirable objects is here? It is, no doubt, to present us with a noble spectacle that an Omnipotent Hand has set before our eyes so great and so bright objects. It is in order to raise our admiration of heaven, says Tully, that God made man unlike the rest of animals. He stands upright, and lifts up his head, that he may be employed about the things that were above him. Sometimes we see a duskish azure sky, where the purest fires twinkle. Sometimes we behold, in a temperate heaven, the softest colours mixed with such variety as it is not in the power of painting to imitate. Sometimes we see clouds of all shapes and figures, and of all the brightest colours, which every moment shift that beautiful decoration by the finest accidents and various effects of light. What does the regular succession of day and night denote? For so many ages as are past the sun never failed serving men, who cannot live without it. Many thousand years are elapsed, and the dawn never once missed proclaiming the approach of the day. It always begins precisely at a certain moment and place. The sun, says the holy writ, knows where it shall set every day. By that means it lights, by turns, the two hemispheres, or sides of the earth, and visits all those for whom its beams are designed. The day is the time for society and labour; the night, wrapping up the earth with its shadow, ends, in its turn, all manner of fatigue and alleviates the toil of the day. It suspends and quiets all; and spreads silence and sleep everywhere. By refreshing the bodies it renews the spirits. Soon after day returns to summon again man to labour and revive all nature. SECT. XVII. Of the Sun. But besides the constant course by which the sun forms days and nights it makes us sensible of another, by which for the space of six months it approaches one of the poles, and at the end of those six months goes back with equal speed to visit the other pole. This excellent order makes one sun sufficient for the whole earth. If it were of a larger size at the same distance, it would set the whole globe on fire and the earth would be burnt to ashes; and if, at the same distance, it were lesser, the earth would be all over frozen and uninhabitable. Again, if in the same magnitude it were nearer us, it would set us in flames; and if more remote, we should not be able to live on the terrestrial globe for want of heat. What pair of compasses, whose circumference encircles both heaven and earth, has fixed such just dimensions? That star does no less befriend that part of the earth from which it removes, in order to temper it, than that it approaches to favour it with its beams. Its kind, beneficent aspect fertilises all it shines upon. This change produces that of the seasons, whose variety is so agreeable. The spring silences bleak frosty winds, brings forth blossoms and flowers, and promises fruits. The summer yields rich harvests. The autumn bestows the fruits promised by the spring. The winter, which is a kind of night wherein man refreshes and rests himself, lays up all the treasures of the earth in its centre with no other design but that the next spring may display them with all the graces of novelty. Thus nature, variously attired, yields so many fine prospects that she never gives man leisure to be disgusted with what he possesses. But how is it possible for the course of the sun to be so regular? It appears that star is only a globe of most subtle flame. Now, what is it that keeps that flame, so restless and so impetuous, within the exact bounds of a perfect globe? What hand leads that flame in so strait a way and never suffers it to slip one side or other? That flame is held by nothing, and there is no body that can either guide it or keep it under; for it would soon consume whatever body it should be enclosed in. Whither is it going? Who has taught it incessantly and so regularly to turn in a space where it is free and unconstrained? Does it not circulate about us on purpose to serve us? Now if this flame does not turn, and if on the contrary it is our earth that turns, I would fain know how it comes to be so well placed in the centre of the universe, as it were the focus or the heart of all nature. I would fain know also how it comes to pass that a globe of so subtle matter never slips on any side in that immense space that surrounds it, and wherein it seems to stand with reason that all fluid bodies ought to yield to the impetuosity of that flame. In fine, I would fain know how it comes to pass that the globe of the earth, which is so very hard, turns so regularly about that planet in a space where no solid body keeps it fast to regulate its course. Let men with the help of physics contrive the most ingenious reasons to explain this phenomenon; all their arguments, supposing them to be true, will become proofs of the Deity. The more the great spring that directs the machine of the universe is exact, simple, constant, certain, and productive of abundance of useful effects, the more it is plain that a most potent and most artful hand knew how to pitch upon the spring which is the most perfect of all. SECT. XVIII. Of the Stars. But let us once more view that immense arched roof where the stars shine, and which covers our heads like a canopy. If it be a solid vault, what architect built it? Who is it that has fixed so many great luminous bodies to certain places of that arch and at certain distances? Who is it that makes that vault turn so regularly about us? If on the contrary the skies are only immense spaces full of fluid bodies, like the air that surrounds us, how comes it to pass that so many solid bodies float in them without ever sinking or ever coming nearer one another? For all astronomical observations that have been made in so many ages not the least disorder or irregular motion has yet been discovered in the heavens. Will a fluid body range in such constant and regular order bodies that swim circularly within its sphere? But what does that almost innumerable multitude of stars mean? The profusion with which the hand of God has scattered them through His work shows nothing is difficult to His power. He has cast them about the skies as a magnificent prince either scatters money by handfuls or studs his clothes with precious stones. Let who will say, if he pleases, that the stars are as many worlds like the earth we inhabit; I grant it for one moment; but then, how potent and wise must He be who makes worlds as numberless as the grains of sand that cover the sea-shore, and who, without any trouble, for so many ages governs all these wandering worlds as a shepherd does a flock of sheep? If on the contrary they are only, as it were, lighted torches to shine in our eyes in this small globe called earth, how great is that power which nothing can fatigue, nothing can exhaust? What a profuse liberality it is to give man in this little corner of the universe so marvellous a spectacle! But among those stars I perceive the moon, which seems to share with the sun the care and office of lighting us. She appears at set times with all the other stars, when the sun is obliged to go and carry back the day to the other hemisphere. Thus night itself, notwithstanding its darkness, has a light, duskish indeed, but soft and useful. That light is borrowed from the sun, though absent: and thus everything is managed with such excellent art in the universe that a globe near the earth, and as dark as she of itself, serves, nevertheless, to send back to her, by reflection, the rays it receives from the sun; and that the sun lights by means of the moon the people that cannot see him while he must light others. It may be said that the motion of the stars is settled and regulated by unchangeable laws. I suppose it is; but this very supposition proves what I labour to evince. Who is it that has given to all nature laws at once so constant and so wholesome, laws so very simple, that one is tempted to believe they establish themselves of their own accord, and so productive of beneficial and useful effects that one cannot avoid acknowledging a marvellous art in them? Whence proceeds the government of that universal machine which incessantly works for us without so much as our thinking upon it? To whom shall we ascribe the choice and gathering of so many deep and so well conceited springs, and of so many bodies, great and small, visible and invisible, which equally concur to serve us? The least atom of this machine that should happen to be out of order would unhinge all nature. For the springs and movements of a watch are not put together with so much art and niceness as those of the universe. What then must be a design so extensive, so coherent, so excellent, so beneficial? The necessity of those laws, instead of deterring me from inquiring into their author, does but heighten my curiosity and admiration. Certainly, it required a hand equally artful and powerful to put in His work an order equally simple and teeming, constant and useful. Wherefore I will not scruple to say with the Scripture, "Let every star haste to go whither the Lord sends it; and when He speaks let them answer with trembling, Here we are," Ecce adsumus. SECT. XIX. Of Animals, Beasts, Fowl, Birds, Fishes, Reptiles, and Insects. But let us turn our eyes towards animals, which still are more worthy of admiration than either the skies or stars. Their species are numberless. Some have but two feet, others four, others again a great many. Some walk; others crawl, or creep; others fly; others swim; others fly, walk, or swim, by turns. The wings of birds, and the fins of fishes, are like oars, that cut the waves either of air or water, and steer the floating body either of the bird, or fish, whose structure is like that of a ship. But the pinions of birds have feathers with a down, that swells in the air, and which would grow unwieldy in the water. And, on the contrary, the fins of fishes have sharp and dry points, which cut the water, without imbibing it, and which do not grow heavier by being wet. A sort of fowl that swim, such as swans, keep their wings and most of their feathers above water, both lest they should wet them and that they may serve them, as it were, for sails. They have the art to turn those feathers against the wind, and, in a manner, to tack, as ships do when the wind does not serve. Water-fowls, such as ducks, have at their feet large skins that stretch, somewhat like rackets, to keep them from sinking on the oozy and miry banks of rivers. Amongst the animals, wild beasts, such as lions, have their biggest muscles about the shoulders, thighs, and legs; and therefore these animals are nimble, brisk, nervous, and ready to rush forward. Their jaw-bones are prodigiously large, in proportion to the rest of their bodies. They have teeth and claws, which serve them, as terrible weapons, to tear in pieces and devour other animals. For the same reason, birds of prey, such as eagles, have a beak and pounces that pierce everything. The muscles of their pinions are extreme large and brawny, that their wings may have a stronger and more rapid motion: and so those creatures, though somewhat heavy, soar aloft and tower up easily to the very clouds, from whence they shoot, like a thunderbolt, on the quarry they have in view. Other animals have horns. The greatest strength of some lies in their backs and necks; and others can only kick. Every species, however, has both offensive and defensive arms. Their hunting is a kind of war, which they wage one against another, for the necessities of life. They have also laws and a government among themselves. Some, like tortoises, carry the house wherein they were born; others build theirs, as birds do, on the highest branches of trees, to preserve their young from the insult of unwinged creatures, and they even lay their nests in the thickest boughs to hide them from their enemies. Another, such as the beaver, builds in the very bottom of a pond the sanctuary he prepares for himself, and knows how to cast up dikes around it, to preserve himself by the neighbouring inundation. Another, like a mole, has so pointed and so sharp a snout, that in one moment he pierces through the hardest ground in order to provide for himself a subterranean retreat. The cunning fox digs a kennel with two holes to go out and come in at, that he may not be either surprised or trapped by the huntsmen. The reptiles are of another make. They curl, wind, shrink, and stretch by the springs of their muscles; they creep, twist about, squeeze, and hold fast the bodies they meet in their way; and easily slide everywhere. Their organs are almost independent one on the other; so that they still live when they are cut into two. The long-legged birds, says Cicero, are also long-necked in proportion, that they may bring down their bill to the ground, and take up their food. It is the same with the camel; but the elephant, whose neck through its bigness would be too heavy if it were as long as that of the camel, was furnished with a trunk, which is a contexture of nerves and muscles, which he stretches, shrinks, winds, and turns every way, to seize on bodies, lift them up, or throw them off: for which reason the Latins called that trunk a hand. Certain animals seem to be made on purpose for man. The dog is born to caress and fawn upon him; to obey and be under command; to give him an agreeable image of society, friendship, fidelity, and tenderness; to be true to his trust; eagerly to hunt down, course, and catch several other creatures, to leave them afterwards to man, without retaining any part of the quarry. The horse, and such other animals, are within the reach and power of man; to ease him of his labour, and to take upon them a thousand burdens. They are born to carry, to walk, to supply man's weakness, and to obey all his motions. Oxen are endowed with strength and patience, in order to draw the plough and till the ground. Cows yield streams of milk. Sheep have in their fleeces a superfluity which is not for them, and which still grows and renews, as it were to invite men to shear them every year. Even goats furnish man with a long hair, for which they have no use, and of which he makes stuffs to cover himself. The skins of some beasts supply men with the finest and best linings, in the countries that are most remote from the sun. Thus the Author of nature has clothed beasts according to their necessities; and their spoils serve afterwards to clothe men, and keep them warm in those frozen climes. The living creatures that have little or no hair have a very thick and very hard skin, like scales; others have even scales that cover one another, as tiles on the top of a house, and which either open or shut, as it best suits with the living creature, either to extend itself or shrink. These skins and scales serve the necessities of men: and thus in nature, not only plants but animals also are made for our use. Wild beasts themselves either grow tame or, at least, are afraid of man. If all countries were peopled and governed as they ought to be, there would not be anywhere beasts should attack men. For no wild beasts would be found but in remote forests, and they would be preserved in order to exercise the courage, strength, and dexterity of mankind, by a sport that should represent war; so that there never would be any occasion for real wars among nations. But observe that living creatures that are noxious to man are the least teeming, and that the most useful multiply most. There are, beyond comparison, more oxen and sheep killed than bears or wolves; and nevertheless the number of bears and wolves is infinitely less than that of oxen and sheep still on earth. Observe likewise, with Cicero, that the females of every species have a number of teats proportioned to that of the young ones they generally bring forth. The more young they bear, with the more milk-springs has nature supplied them, to suckle them. While sheep let their wool grow for our use, silk-worms, in emulation with each other, spin rich stuffs and spend themselves to bestow them upon us. They make of their cod a kind of tomb, and shutting up themselves in their own work, they are new-born under another figure, in order to perpetuate themselves. On the other hand, the bees carefully suck and gather the juice of odorous and fragrant flowers, in order to make their honey; and range it in such an order as may serve for a pattern to men. Several insects are transformed, sometimes into flies, sometimes into worms, or maggots. If one should think such insects useless, let him consider that what makes a part of the great spectacle of the universe, and contributes to its variety, is not altogether useless to sedate and contemplative men. What can be more noble, and more magnificent, than that great number of commonwealths of living creatures so well governed, and every species of which has a different frame from the other? Everything shows how much the skill and workmanship of the artificer surpasses the vile matter he has worked upon. Every living creature, nay even gnats, appear wonderful to me. If one finds them troublesome, he ought to consider that it is necessary that some anxiety and pain be mixed with man's conveniences: for if nothing should moderate his pleasures, and exercise his patience, he would either grow soft and effeminate, or forget himself. SECT. XX. Admirable Order in which all the Bodies that make up the Universe are ranged. Let us now consider the wonders that shine equally both in the largest and the smallest bodies. On the one side, I see the sun so many thousand times bigger than the earth; I see him circulating in a space, in comparison of which he is himself but a bright atom. I see other stars, perhaps still bigger than he, that roll in other regions, still farther distant from us. Beyond those regions, which escape all measure, I still confusedly perceive other stars, which can neither be counted nor distinguished. The earth, on which I stand, is but one point, in proportion to the whole, in which no bound can ever be found. The whole is so well put together, that not one single atom can be put out of its place without unhinging this immense machine; and it moves in such excellent order that its very motion perpetuates its variety and perfection. Sure it must be the hand of a being that does everything without any trouble that still keeps steady, and governs this great work for so many ages; and whose fingers play with the universe, to speak with the Scripture. SECT. XXI. Wonders of the Infinitely Little. On the other hand the work is no less to be admired in little than in great: for I find as well in little as in great a kind of infinite that astonishes me. It surpasses my imagination to find in a hand-worm, as one does in an elephant or whale, limbs perfectly well organised; a head, a body, legs, and feet, as distinct and as well formed as those of the biggest animals. There are in every part of those living atoms, muscles, nerves, veins, arteries, blood; and in that blood ramous particles and humours; in these humours some drops that are themselves composed of several particles: nor can one ever stop in the discussion of this infinite composition of so infinite a whole. The microscope discovers to us in every object as it were a thousand other objects that had escaped our notice. But how many other objects are there in every object discovered by the microscope which the microscope itself cannot discover? What should not we see if we could still subtilise and improve more and more the instruments that help out weak and dull sight? Let us supply by our imagination what our eyes are defective in; and let our fancy itself be a kind of microscope, and represent to us in every atom a thousand new and invisible worlds: but it will never be able incessantly to paint to us new discoveries in little bodies; it will be tired, and forced at last to stop, and sink, leaving in the smallest organ of a body a thousand wonders undiscovered. SECT. XXII. Of the Structure or Frame of the Animal. Let us confine ourselves within the animal's machine, which has three things that never can be too much admired: First, it has in it wherewithal to defend itself against those that attack it, in order to destroy it. Secondly, it has a faculty of reviving itself by food. Thirdly, it has wherewithal to perpetuate its species by generation. Let us bestow some considerations on these three things. SECT. XXIII. Of the Instinct of the Animal. Animals are endowed with what is called instinct, both to approach useful and beneficial objects, and to avoid such as may be noxious and destructive to them. Let us not inquire wherein this instinct consists, but content ourselves with matter of fact, without reasoning upon it. The tender lamb smells his dam afar off, and runs to meet her. A sheep is seized with horror at the approach of a wolf, and flies away before he can discern him. The hound is almost infallible in finding out a stag, a buck, or a hare, only by the scent. There is in every animal an impetuous spring, which, on a sudden, gathers all the spirits; distends all the nerves; renders all the joints more supple and pliant; and increases in an incredible manner, upon sudden dangers, his strength, agility, speed, and cunning, in order to make him avoid the object that threatens his destruction. The question in this place is not to know whether beasts are endowed with reason or understanding; for I do not pretend to engage in any philosophical inquiry. The motions I speak of are entirely indeliberate, even in the machine of man. If, for instance, a man that dances on a rope should, at that time, reason on the laws and rules of equilibrium, his reasoning would make him lose that very equilibrium which he preserves admirably well without arguing upon the matter, and reason would then be of no other use to him but to throw him on the ground. The same happens with beasts; nor will it avail anything to object that they reason as well as men, for this objection does not in the least weaken my proof; and their reasoning can never serve to account for the motions we admire most in them. Will any one affirm that they know the nicest rules of mechanics, which they observe with perfect exactness, whenever they are to run, leap, swim, hide themselves, double, use shifts to avoid pursuing hounds, or to make use of the strongest part of their bodies to defend themselves? Will he say that they naturally understand the mathematics which men are ignorant of? Will he dare to advance that they perform with deliberation and knowledge all those impetuous and yet so exact motions which even men perform without study or premeditation? Will he allow them to make use of reason in those motions, wherein it is certain man does not? It is an instinct, will he say, that beasts are governed by. I grant it: for it is, indeed, an instinct. But this instinct is an admirable sagacity and dexterity, not in the beasts, who neither do, nor can then, have time to reason, but in the superior wisdom that governs them. That instinct, or wisdom, that thinks and watches for beasts, in indeliberate things, wherein they could neither watch nor think, even supposing them to be as reasonable as we, can be no other than the wisdom of the Artificer that made these machines. Let us therefore talk no more of instinct or nature, which are but fine empty names in the mouth of the generality that pronounce them. There is in what they call nature and instinct a superior art and contrivance, of which human invention is but a shadow. What is beyond all question is, that there are in beasts a prodigious number of motions entirely indeliberate, and which yet are performed according to the nicest rules of mechanics. It is the machine alone that follows those rules: which is a fact independent from all philosophy; and matter of fact is ever decisive. What would a man think of a watch that should fly or slip away, turn, again, or defend itself, for its own preservation, if he went about to break it? Would he not admire the skill of the artificer? Could he be induced to believe that the springs of that watch had formed, proportioned, ranged, and united themselves, by mere chance? Could he imagine that he had clearly explained and accounted for such industrious and skilful operation by talking of the nature and instinct of a watch that should exactly show the hour to his master, and slip away from such as should go about to break its springs to pieces? SECT. XXIV. Of Food. What is more noble than a machine which continually repairs and renews itself? The animal, stinted to his own strength, is soon tired and exhausted by labour; but the more he takes pains, the more he finds himself pressed to make himself amends for his labour, by more plentiful feeding. Aliments daily restore the strength he had lost. He puts into his body another substance that becomes his own, by a kind of metamorphosis. At first it is pounded, and being changed into a liquor, it purifies, as if it were strained through a sieve, in order to separate anything that is gross from it; afterwards it arrives at the centre, or focus of the spirits, where it is subtilised, and becomes blood. And running at last, and penetrating through numberless vessels to moisten all the members, it filtrates in the flesh, and becomes itself flesh. So many aliments, and liquors of various colours, are then no more than one and the same flesh; and food which was but an inanimate body preserves the life of the animal, and becomes part of the animal himself; the other parts of which he was composed being exhaled by an insensible and continual transpiration. The matter which, for instance, was four years ago such a horse, is now but air, or dung. What was then either hay, or oats, is become that same horse, so fiery and vigorous--at least, he is accounted the same horse, notwithstanding this insensible change of his substance. SECT. XXV. Of Sleep. The natural attendant of food is sleep; in which the animal forbears not only all his outward motions, but also all the principal inward operations which might too much stir and dissipate the spirits. He only retains respiration, and digestion; so that all motions that might wear out his strength are suspended, and all such as are proper to recruit and renew it go on freely of themselves. This repose, which is a kind of enchantment, returns every night, while darkness interrupts and hinders labour. Now, who is it that contrived such a suspension? Who is it that so well chose the operations that ought to continue; and, with so just discernment, excluded all such as ought to be interrupted? The next day all past fatigue is gone and vanished. The animal works on, as if he had never worked before; and this reviving gives him a vivacity and vigour that invites him to new labour. Thus the nerves are still full of spirits, the flesh smooth, the skin whole, though one would think it should waste and tear; the living body of the animal soon wears out inanimate bodies, even the most solid that are about it; and yet does not wear out itself. The skin of a horse, for instance, wears out several saddles; and the flesh of a child, though very delicate and tender, wears out many clothes, whilst it daily grows stronger. If this renewing of spirits were perfect, it would be real immortality, and the gift of eternal youth. But the same being imperfect, the animal insensibly loses his strength, decays and grows old, because everything that is created ought to bear a mark of nothingness from which it was drawn; and have an end. SECT. XXVI. Of Generation. What is more admirable than the multiplication of animals? Look upon the individuals: no animal is immortal. Everything grows old, everything passes away, everything disappears, everything, in short, is annihilated. Look upon the species: everything subsists, everything is permanent and immutable, though in a constant vicissitude. Ever since there have been on earth men that have taken care to preserve the memory of events, no lions, tigers, wild boars, or bears, were ever known to form themselves by chance in caves or forests. Neither do we see any fortuitous productions of dogs or cats. Bulls and sheep are never born of themselves, either in stables, folds, or on pasture grounds. Every one of those animals owes his birth to a certain male and female of his species. All those different species are preserved much the same in all ages. We do not find that for three thousand years past any one has perished or ceased; neither do we find that any one multiplies to such an excess as to be a nuisance or inconveniency to the rest. If the species of lions, bears, and tigers multiplied to a certain excessive degree, they would not only destroy the species of stags, bucks, sheep, goats, and bulls, but even get the mastery over mankind, and unpeople the earth. Now who maintains so just a measure as never either to extinguish those different species, or never to suffer them to multiply too fast? But this continual propagation of every species is a wonder with which we are grown too familiar. What would a man think of a watchmaker who should have the art to make watches, which, of themselves, should produce others ad infinitum in such a manner that two original watches should be sufficient to multiply and perpetuate their species over the whole earth? What would he say of an architect that should have the skill to build houses, which should build others, to renew the habitations of men, before the first should decay and be ready to fall to the ground? It is, however, what we daily see among animals. They are no more, if you please, than mere machines, as watches are. But, after all, the Author of these machines has endowed them with a faculty to reproduce or perpetuate themselves ad infinitum by the conjunction of both sexes. Affirm, if you please, that this generation of animals is performed either by moulds or by an express configuration of every individual; which of these two opinions you think fit to pitch upon, it comes all to one; nor is the skill of the Artificer less conspicuous. If you suppose that at every generation the individual, without being cast into a mould, receives a configuration made on purpose, I ask, who it is that manages and directs the configuration of so compounded a machine, and which argues so much art and industry? If, on the contrary, to avoid acknowledging any art in the case you suppose that everything is determined by the moulds, I go back to the moulds themselves, and ask, who is it that prepared them? In my opinion they are still greater matter of wonder than the very machines which are pretended to come out of them. Therefore let who will suppose that there were moulds in the animals that lived four thousand years ago, and affirm, if he pleases, that those moulds were so inclosed one within another ad infinitum, that there was a sufficient number for all the generations of those four thousand years; and that there is still a sufficient number ready prepared for the formation of all the animals that shall preserve their species in all succeeding ages. Now, these moulds, which, as I have observed, must have all the configuration of the animal, are as difficult to be explained or accounted for as the animals themselves, and are besides attended with far more unexplicable wonders. It is certain that the configuration of every individual animal requires no more art and power than is necessary to frame all the springs that make up that machine; but when a man supposes moulds: first, he must affirm that every mould contains in little, with unconceivable niceness, all the springs of the machine itself. Now, it is beyond dispute that there is more art in making so compound a work in little than in a larger bulk. Secondly, he must suppose that every mould, which is an individual prepared for a first generation, contains distinctly within itself other moulds contained within one another ad infinitum, for all possible generations, in all succeeding ages. Now what can be more artful and more wonderful in matter of mechanism than such a preparation of an infinite number of individuals, all formed beforehand in one from which they are to spring? Therefore the moulds are of no use to explain the generations of animals without supposing any art or skill. For, on the contrary, moulds would argue a more artificial mechanism and more wonderful composition. What is manifest and indisputable, independently from all the systems of philosophers, is that the fortuitous concourse of atoms never produces, without generation, in any part of the earth, any lions, tigers, bears, elephants, stags, bulls, sheep, cats, dogs, or horses. These and the like are never produced but by the encounter of two of their kind of different sex. The two animals that produce a third are not the true authors of the art that shines in the composition of the animal engendered by them. They are so far from knowing how to perform that art, that they do not so much as know the composition or frame of the work that results from their generation. Nay, they know not so much as any particular spring of it; having been no more than blind and unvoluntary instruments, made use of for the performance of a marvellous art, to which they are absolute strangers, and of which they are perfectly ignorant. Now I would fain know whence comes that art, which is none of theirs? What power and wisdom knows how to employ, for the performance of works of so ingenious and intricate a design, instruments so uncapable to know what they are doing, or to have any notion of it? Nor does it avail anything to suppose that beasts are endowed with reason. Let a man suppose them to be as rational as he pleases in other things, yet he must own, that in generation they have no share in the art that is conspicuous in the composition of the animals they produce. Let us carry the thing further, and take for granted the most wonderful instances that are given of the skill and forecast of animals. Let us admire, as much as you please, the certainty with which a hound takes a spring into a third way, as soon as he finds by his nose that the game he pursues has left no scent in the other two. Let us admire the hind, who, they say, throws a good way off her young fawn, into some hidden place, that the hounds may not find him out by the scent of his strain. Let us even admire the spider who with her cobwebs lays subtle snares to trap flies, and fall unawares upon them before they can disentangle themselves. Let us also admire the hern, who, they say, puts his head under his wing, in order to hide his bill under his feathers, thereby to stick the breast of the bird of prey that stoops at him. Let us allow the truth of all these wonderful instances of rationality; for all nature is full of such prodigies. But what must we infer from them? In good earnest, if we carefully examine the matter, we shall find that they prove too much. Shall we say that animals are more rational than we? Their instinct has undoubtedly more certainty than our conjectures. They have learnt neither logic nor geometry, neither have they any course or method of improvement, or any science. Whatever they do is done of a sudden without study, preparation, or deliberation. We commit blunders and mistakes every hour of the day after we have a long while argued and consulted together; whereas animals, without any reasoning or premeditation, perform every hour what seems to require most discernment, choice, and exactness. Their instinct is in many things infallible; but that word instinct is but a fair name void of sense. For what can an instinct more just, exact, precise, and certain than reason itself mean but a more perfect reason? We must therefore suppose a wonderful reason and understanding either in the work or in the artificer; either in the machine or in him that made it. When, for instance, I find that a watch shows the hours with such exactness as surpasses my knowledge, I presently conclude that if the watch itself does not reason, it must have been made by an artificer who, in that particular, reasoned better and had more skill than myself. In like manner, when I see animals, who every moment perform actions that argue a more certain art and industry than I am master of, I immediately conclude that such marvellous art must necessarily be either in the machine or in the artificer that framed it. Is it in the animal himself? But how is it possible he should be so wise and so infallible in some things? And if this art is not in him, it must of necessity be in the Supreme Artificer that made that piece of work, just as all the art of a watch is in the skill of the watchmaker. SECT. XXVII. Though Beasts commit some Mistakes, yet their Instinct is, in many cases, Infallible. Do not object to me that the instinct of beasts is in some things defective, and liable to error. It is no wonder beasts are not infallible in everything, but it is rather a wonder they are so in many cases. If they were infallible in everything, they should be endowed with a reason infinitely perfect; in short, they should be deities. In the works of an infinite Power there can be but a finite perfection, otherwise God should make creatures like or equal to Himself, which is impossible. He therefore cannot place perfection, nor consequently reason, in his works, without some bounds and restrictions. But those bounds do not prove that the work is void of order or reason. Because I mistake sometimes, it does not follow that I have no reason at all, and that I do everything by mere chance, but only that my reason is stinted and imperfect. In like manner, because a beast is not by his instinct infallible in everything, though he be so in many, it does not follow that there is no manner of reason in that machine, but only that such a machine has not a boundless reason. But, after all, it is a constant truth that in the operations of that machine there is a regular conduct, a marvellous art, and a skill which in many cases amounts to infallibility. Now, to whom shall we ascribe this infallible skill? To the work, or its Artificer? SECT. XXVIII. It is impossible Beasts should have Souls. If you affirm that beasts have souls different from their machines, I immediately ask you, "Of what nature are those souls entirely different from and united to bodies? Who is it that knew how to unite them to natures so vastly different? Who is it that has such absolute command over so opposite natures, as to put and keep them in such a regular and constant a society, and wherein mutual agreement and correspondence are so necessary and so quick? If, on the contrary, you suppose that the same matter may sometimes think, and sometimes not think, according to the various wrangling and configurations it may receive, I will not tell you in this place that matter cannot think; and that one cannot conceive that the parts of a stone, without adding anything to it, may ever know themselves, whatever degree of motion, whatever figure, you may give them. I will only ask you now wherein that precise ranging and configuration of parts, which you speak of, consists? According to your opinion there must be a degree of motion wherein matter does not yet reason, and then another much like it wherein, on a sudden, it begins to reason and know itself. Now, who is it that knew how to pitch upon that precise degree of motion? Who is it that has discovered the line in which the parts ought to move? Who is it that has measured the dimensions so nicely as to find out and state the bigness and figure every part must have to keep all manner of proportions between themselves in the whole? Who is it that has regulated the outward form by which all those bodies are to be stinted? In a word, who is it that has found all the combinations wherein matter thinks, and without the least of which matter must immediately cease to think? If you say it is chance, I answer that you make chance rational to such a degree as to be the source of reason itself. Strange prejudice and intoxication of some men, not to acknowledge a most intelligent cause, from which we derive all intelligence; and rather choose to affirm that the purest reason is but the effect of the blindest of all causes in such a subject as matter, which of itself is altogether incapable of knowledge! Certainly there is nothing a man of sense would not admit rather than so extravagant and absurd an opinion. SECT. XXIX. Sentiments of some of the Ancients concerning the Soul and Knowledge of Beasts. The philosophy of the ancients, though very lame and imperfect, had nevertheless a glimpse of this difficulty; and, therefore, in order to remove it, some of them pretended that the Divine Spirit interspersed and scattered throughout the universe is a superior Wisdom that continually operates in all nature, especially in animals, just as souls act in bodies; and that this continual impression or impulse of the Divine Spirit, which the vulgar call instinct, without knowing the true signification of that word, was the life of all living creatures. They added, "That those sparks of the Divine Spirit were the principle of all generations; that animals received them in their conception and at their birth; and that the moment they died those divine particles disengaged themselves from all terrestrial matter in order to fly up to heaven, where they shone and rolled among the stars. It is this philosophy, at once so magnificent and so fabulous, which Virgil so gracefully expresses in the following verses upon bees:-- "Esse apibus partem divinae mentis, et haustus AEtherios dixere: Deum namque ire per omnes Terrasque, tractusque maris, caelumque profundum. Hinc pecudes, armenta viros, genus omne ferarum, Quemque sibi tenues nascentem arcessere vitas. Scilicet huc reddi deinde, ac resoluta referri Omnia, nec morti esse locum, sed viva volare Sideris in numerum, atque alto succedere caelo." That is:-- "Induced by such examples, some have taught That bees have portions of ethereal thought, Endued with particles of heavenly fires, For God the whole created mass inspires. Through heaven, and earth, and ocean depth He throws His influence round, and kindles as He goes. Hence flocks, and herds, and men, and beasts, and fowls, With breath are quickened, and attract their souls. Hence take the forms His prescience did ordain, And into Him, at length, resolve again. No room is left for death: they mount the sky, And to their own congenial planets fly." Dryden's "Virgil." That Divine Wisdom that moves all the known parts of the world had made so deep an impression upon the Stoics, and on Plato before them, that they believed the whole world to be an animal, but a rational and wise animal--in short, the Supreme God. This philosophy reduced Polytheism, or the multitude of gods, to Deism, or one God, and that one God to Nature, which according to them was eternal, infallible, intelligent, omnipotent, and divine. Thus philosophers, by striving to keep from and rectify the notions of poets, dwindled again at last into poetical fancies, since they assigned, as the inventors of fables did, a life, an intelligence, an art, and a design to all the parts of the universe that appear most inanimate. Undoubtedly they were sensible of the wonderful art that is conspicuous in nature, and their only mistake lay in ascribing to the work the skill of the Artificer. SECT. XXX. Of Man. Let us not stop any longer with animals inferior to man. It is high time to consider and study the nature of man himself, in order to discover Him whose image he is said to bear. I know but two sorts of beings in all nature: those that are endowed with knowledge or reason, and those that are not Now man is a compound of these two modes of being. He has a body, as the most inanimate corporeal beings have; and he has a spirit, a mind, or a soul--that is, a thought whereby he knows himself, and perceives what is about him. If it be true that there is a First Being who has drawn or created all the rest from nothing, man is truly His image; for he has, like Him, in his nature all the real perfection that is to be found in those two various kinds or modes of being. But an image is but an image still, and can be but an adumbration or shadow of the true Perfect Being. Let us begin to study man by the contemplation of his body. "I know not," said a mother to her children in the Holy Writ, "how you were formed in my womb." Nor is it, indeed, the wisdom of the parents that forms so compounded and so regular a work. They have no share in that wonderful art; let us therefore leave them, and trace it up higher. SECT. XXXI. Of the Structure of Man's Body. The body is made of clay; but let us admire the Hand that framed and polished it. The Artificer's Seal is stamped upon His work. He seems to have delighted in making a masterpiece with so vile a matter. Let us cast our eyes upon that body, in which the bones sustain the flesh that covers them. The nerves that are extended in it make up all its strength; and the muscles with which the sinews weave themselves, either by swelling or extending themselves, perform the most exact and regular motions. The bones are divided at certain distances, but they have joints, whereby they are set one within another, and are tied by nerves and tendons. Cicero admires, with reason, the excellent art with which the bones are knit together. For what is more supple for all various motions? And, on the other hand, what is more firm and durable? Even after a body is dead, and its parts are separated by corruption, we find that these joints and ligaments can hardly be destroyed. Thus this human machine or frame is either straight or crooked, stiff or supple, as we please. From the brain, which is the source of all the nerves, spring the spirits, which are so subtle that they escape the sight; and nevertheless so real, and of so great activity and force, that they perform all the motions of the machine, and make up all in strength. These spirits are in an instant conveyed to the very extremities of the members. Sometimes they flow gently and regularly, sometimes they move with impetuosity, as occasion requires; and they vary ad infinitum the postures, gestures, and other actions of the body. SECT. XXXII. Of the Skin. Let us consider the flesh. It is covered in certain places with a soft and tender skin, for the ornament of the body. If that skin, that renders the object so agreeable, and gives it so sweet a colour, were taken off, the same object would become ghastly, and create horror. In other places that same skin is harder and thicker, in order to resist the fatigue of those parts. As, for instance, how harder is the skin of the feet than that of the face? And that of the hinder part of the head than that of the forehead? That skin is all over full of holes like a sieve: but those holes, which are called pores, are imperceptible. Although sweat and other transpirations exhale through those pores, the blood never runs out that way. That skin has all the tenderness necessary to make it transparent, and give the face a lively, sweet, and graceful colour. If the skin were less close, and less smooth, the face would look bloody, and excoriated. Now, who is that knew how to temper and mix those colours with such nicety as to make a carnation which painters admire, but never can perfectly imitate? SECT. XXXIII. Of Veins and Arteries. There are in man's body numberless branches of blood-vessels. Some of them carry the blood from the centre to the extreme parts, and are called arteries. Through those various vessels runs the blood, a liquor soft and oily, and by this oiliness proper to retain the most subtle spirits, just as the most subtle and spirituous essences are preserved in gummy bodies. This blood moistens the flesh, as springs and rivers water the earth; and after it has filtrated in the flesh, it returns to its source, more slowly, and less full of spirits: but it renews, and is again subtilised in that source, in order to circulate without ceasing. SECT. XXXIV. Of the Bones, and their Jointing. Do you consider that excellent order and proportion of the limbs? The legs and thighs are great bones jointed one with another, and knit together by tendons. They are two sorts of pillars, equal and regular, erected to support the whole fabric. But those pillars fold; and the rotula of the knee is a bone of a circular figure, which is placed on purpose on the joint, in order to fill it up, and preserve it, when the bones fold, for the bending of the knee. Each column or pillar has its pedestal, which is composed of various inlaid parts, so well jointed together, that they can either bend, or keep stiff, as occasion requires. The pedestal, I mean the foot, turns, at a man's pleasure, under the pillar. In this foot we find nothing but nerves, tendons, and little bones closely knit, that this part may, at once, be either more supple or more firm, according to various occasions. Even the toes, with their articles and nails, serve to feel the ground a man walks on, to lean and stand with more dexterity and nimbleness, the better to preserve the equilibrium of the body, to rise, or to stoop. The two feet stretch forward, to keep the body from falling that way, when it stoops or bends. The two pillars are jointed together at the top, to bear up the rest of the body, but are still divided there in such a manner, that that joint affords man the conveniency of resting himself, by sitting on the two biggest muscles of the body. The body of the structure is proportioned to the height of the pillars. It contains such parts as are necessary for life, and which consequently ought to be placed in the centre, and shut up in the securest place. Therefore two rows of ribs pretty close to one another, that come out of the backbone, as the branches of a tree do from its trunk, form a kind of hoop, to hide and shelter those noble and tender parts. But because the ribs could not entirely shut up that centre of the human body, without hindering the dilatation of the stomach and of the entrails, they form that hoop but to a certain place, below which they leave an empty space, that the inside may freely distend and stretch, both for respiration and feeding. As for the backbone, all the works of man afford nothing so artfully and curiously wrought. It would be too stiff, and too frangible or brittle, if it were made of one single bone: and in such a case man could never bend or stoop. The author of this machine has prevented that inconveniency by forming vertebrae, which jointing one with another make up a whole, consisting of several pieces of bones, more strong than if it were of a single piece. This compound being sometimes supple and pliant, and sometimes stiff, stands either upright, or bends, in a moment, as a man pleases. All these vertebrae have in the middle a gutter or channel, that serves to convey a continuation of the substance of the brain to the extremities of the body, and with speed to send thither spirits through that pipe. But who can forbear admiring the nature of the bones? They are very hard; and we see that even the corruption of all the rest of the body, after death, does not affect them. Nevertheless, they are full of numberless holes and cavities that make them lighter; and in the middle they are full of the marrow, or pith, that is to nourish them. They are bored exactly in those places through which the ligaments that knit them are to pass. Moreover, their extremities are bigger than the middle, and form, as it were, two semicircular heads, to make one bone turn more easily with another, that so the whole may fold and bend without trouble. SECT. XXXV. Of the Organs. Within the enclosure of the ribs are placed in order all the great organs such as serve to make a man breathe; such as digest the aliments; and such as make new blood. Respiration, or breathing, is necessary to temper inward heat, occasioned by the boiling of the blood, and by the impetuous course of the spirits. The air is a kind of food that nourishes the animal, and by means of which he renews himself every moment of his life. Nor is digestion less necessary to prepare sensible aliments towards their being changed into blood, which is a liquor apt to penetrate everywhere, and to thicken into flesh in the extreme parts, in order to repair in all the members what they lose continually both by transpiration and the waste of spirits. The lungs are like great covers, which being spongy, easily dilate and contract themselves, and as they incessantly take in and blow out a great deal of air, they form a kind of bellows that are in perpetual motion. The stomach has a dissolvent that causes hunger, and puts man in mind of his want of food. That dissolvent, which stimulates and pricks the stomach, does, by that very uneasiness, prepare for it a very lively pleasure, when its craving is satisfied by the aliments. Then man, with delight, fills his belly with strange matter, which would create horror in him if he could see it as soon as it has entered his stomach, and which even displeases him, when he sees it being already satisfied. The stomach is made in the figure of a bagpipe. There the aliments being dissolved by a quick coction, or digestion, are all confounded, and make up a soft liquor, which afterwards becomes a kind of milk, called chyle; and which being at last brought into the heart, receives there, through the plenty of spirits, the form, vivacity, and colour of blood. But while the purest juice of the aliments passes from the stomach into the pipes destined for the preparation of chyle and blood, the gross particles of the same aliments are separated, just as bran is from flour by a sieve; and they are dejected downwards to ease the body of them, through the most hidden passages, and the most remote from the organs of the senses, lest these be offended at them. Thus the wonders of this machine are so great and numerous, that we find some unfathomable, even in the most abject and mortifying functions of the body, which modesty will not allow to be more particularly explained. SECT. XXXVI. Of the Inward Parts. I own that the inward parts are not so agreeable to the sight as the outward; but then be pleased to observe they are not made to be seen. Nay, it was necessary according to art and design that they should not be discovered without horror, and that a man should not without violent reluctance go about to discover them by cutting open this machine in another man. It is this very horror that prepares compassion and humanity in the hearts of men when one sees another wounded or hurt. Add to this, with St. Austin, that there are in those inward parts a proportion, order, and mechanism which still please more an attentive, inquisitive mind than external beauty can please the eyes of the body. That inside of man--which is at once so ghastly and horrid and so wonderful and admirable--is exactly as it should be to denote dirt and clay wrought by a Divine hand, for we find in it both the frailty of the creature and the art of the Creator. SECT. XXXVII. Of the Arms and their Use. From the top of that precious fabric we have described hang the two arms, which are terminated by the hands, and which bear a perfect symmetry one with another. The arms are knit with the shoulders in such a manner that they have a free motion, in that joint. They are besides divided at the elbow and at the wrist that they may fold, bend, and turn with quickness. The arms are of a just length to reach all the parts of the body. They are nervous and full of muscles, that they may, as well as the back, be often in action and sustain the greatest fatigue of all the body. The hands are a contexture of nerves and little bones set one within another in such a manner that they have all the strength and suppleness necessary to feel the neighbouring bodies, to seize on them, hold them fast, throw them, draw them to one, push them off, disentangle them, and untie them one from another. The fingers, the ends of which are armed with nails, are by the delicacy and variety of their motions contrived to exercise the most curious and marvellous arts. The arms and hands serve also, according as they are either extended, folded, or turned, to poise the body in such a manner as that it may stoop without any danger of falling. The whole machine has, besides, independently from all after-thoughts, a kind of spring that poises it on a sudden and makes it find the equilibrium in all its different postures and positions. SECT. XXXVIII. Of the Neck and Head. Above the body rises the neck, which is either firm or flexible at pleasure. Must a man bear a heavy burden on his head? This neck becomes as stiff as if it were made up of one single bone. Has he a mind to bow or turn his head? The neck bends every way as if all its bones were disjointed. This neck, a little raised above the shoulders, bears up with ease the head, which over-rules and governs the whole body. If it were less big it would bear no proportion with the rest of the machine; and if it were bigger it would not only be disproportioned and deformed, but, besides, its weight would both crush the neck and put man in danger of falling on the side it should lean a little too much. This head, fortified on all sides by very thick and very hard bones in order the better to preserve the precious treasure it encloses, is jointed with the vertebrae of the neck, and has a very quick communication with all the other parts of the body. It contains the brain, whose moist, soft, and spongy substance is made up of tender filaments or threads woven together; this is the centre of all the wonders we shall speak of afterwards. The skull is regularly perforated, or bored, with exact proportion, and symmetry, for, the two eyes, the two ears, the mouth, and the nostrils. There are nerves destined for sensations, that exercise and play in most of those pipes. The nose, which has no nerves for its sensation, has a cribriform, or spongy bone, to let odours pass on to the brain. Amongst the organs of these sensations the chief are double, to preserve to one side what the other might happen to be defective in by any accident. These two organs of the same sensation are symmetrically placed either on the forepart or on the sides, that man may use them with more ease to the right or to the left or right against him--that is to say, towards the places his joints direct his steps and all his actions. Besides, the flexibility of the neck makes all those organs turn in an instant which way soever he pleases. All the hinder part of the head, which is the least able to defend itself, is therefore the thickest. It is adorned with hair which at the same time serves to fortify the head against the injuries of the air; and, on the other hand, the hair likewise adorns the fore part of the head and renders the face more graceful. The face is the fore part of the head, wherein the principal sensations meet and centre with an order and proportion that render it very beautiful unless some accident or other happen to alter and impair so regular a piece of work. The two eyes are equal, being placed about the middle, on the two sides of the head, that they may, without trouble, discover afar off both on the right and left all strange objects, and that they may commodiously watch for the safety of all the parts of the body. The exact symmetry with which they are placed is the ornament of the face; and He that made them has kindled in them I know not what celestial flame, the like of which all the rest of nature does not afford. These eyes are a sort of looking-glasses, wherein all the objects of the whole world are painted by turns and without confusion in the bottom of the retina that the thinking part of man may see them in those looking-glasses. But though we perceive all objects by a double organ, yet we never see the objects double, because the two nerves that are subservient to sight in our eyes are but two branches that unite in one pipe, as the two glasses of a pair of spectacles unite in the upper part that joins them together. The two eyes are adorned with two equal eyebrows, and, that they may open and close, they are wrapped up with lids edged with hair that defend so delicate a part. SECT. XXXIX. Of the Forehead and Other Parts of the Face. The forehead gives majesty and gracefulness to all the face, and serves to heighten all its features. Were it not for the nose, which is placed in the middle, the whole face would look flat and deformed, of which they are fully convinced who have happened to see men in whom that part of the face is mutilated. It is placed just above the mouth, that it may the more easily discern, by the odours, whatever is most proper to feed man. The two nostrils serve at once both for the respiration and smell. Look upon the lips: their lively colour, freshness, figure, seat, and proportion, with the other features, render the face most beautiful. The mouth, by the correspondence of its motions with those of the eyes, animates, gladdens, suddens, softens, or troubles the face, and by sensible marks expresses every passion. The lips not only open to receive food, but by their suppleness and the variety of their motions serve likewise to vary the sounds that form speech. When they open they discover a double row of teeth with which the mouth is adorned. These teeth are little bones set in order in the two jaw-bones, which have a spring to open and another to shut in such a manner that the teeth grind, like a mill, the aliments in order to prepare their digestion. But these aliments thus ground go down into the stomach, through a pipe different from that through which we breathe, and these two pipes, though so neighbouring, have nothing common. SECT. XL. Of the Tongue and Teeth. The tongue is a contexture of small muscles and nerves so very supple, that it winds and turns like a serpent, with unconceivable mobility and pliantness. It performs in the mouth the same office which either the fingers or the bow of a master of music perform on a musical instrument: for sometimes it strikes the teeth, sometimes the roof of the mouth. There is a pipe that goes into the inside of the neck, called throat, from the roof of the mouth to the breast, which is made up of cartilaginous rings nicely set one within another, and lined within with a very smooth membrane, in order to render the air that is pushed from the lungs more sonorous. On the side of the roof of the mouth the end of that pipe is opened like a flute, by a slit, that either extends, or contracts itself as is necessary to render the voice either big or slender, hollow or clear. But lest the aliments, which have their separate pipe, should slide into the windpipe I have been describing, there is a kind of valve that lies on the orifice of the organ of the voice, and playing like a drawbridge, lets the aliments freely pass through their proper channel, but never suffers the least particle or drop to fall into the slit of the windpipe. This sort of valve has a very free motion, and easily turns any way, so that by shaking on that half-opened orifice, it performs the softest modulations of the voice. This instance is sufficient to show, by-the-by, and without entering long-winded details of anatomy, what a marvellous art there is in the frame of the inward parts. And indeed the organ I have described is the most perfect of all musical instruments, nor have these any perfection, but so far as they imitate that. SECT. XLI. Of the Smell, Taste, and Hearing. Who were able to explain the niceness of the organs by which man discerns the numberless savours and odours of bodies? But how is it possible for so many different voices to strike at once my ear without confounding one another, and for those sounds to leave in me, after they have ceased to be, so lively and so distinct images of what they have been? How careful was the Artificer who made our bodies to give our eyes a moist, smooth, and sliding cover to close them; and why did He leave our ears open? Because, says Cicero, the eyes must be shut against the light in order to sleep; and, in the meantime, the ears ought to remain open in order to give us warning, and wake us by the report of noise, when we are in danger of being surprised. Who is it that, in an instant, imprints in my eye the heaven, the sea, and the earth, seated at almost an infinite distance? How can the faithful images of all the objects of the universe, from the sun to an atom, range themselves distinctly in so small an organ? Is not the substance of the brain, which preserves, in order, such lively representations of all the objects that have made an impression upon us ever since we were in the world, a most wonderful prodigy? Men admire with reason the invention of books, wherein the history of so many events, and the collection of so many thoughts, are preserved. But what comparison can be made between the best book and the brain of a learned man? There is no doubt but such a brain is a collection infinitely more precious, and of a far more excellent contrivance, than a book. It is in that small repository that a man never misses finding the images he has occasion for. He calls them, and they come; he dismisses them, and they sink I know not where, and disappear, to make room for others. A man shuts or opens his fancy at pleasure, like a book. He turns, as it were, its leaves; and, in an instant, goes from one end to the other. There is even in memory a sort of table, like the index of a book, which shows where certain remote images are to be found. We do not find that these innumerable characters, which the mind of man reads inwardly with so much rapidity, leave any distinct trace or print in the brain, when we open it. That admirable book is but a soft substance, or a sort of bottom made up of tender threads, woven one with another. Now what skilful hand has laid up in that kind of dirt, which appears so shapeless, such precious images, ranged with such excellent and curious art? SECT. XLII. Of the Proportion of Man's Body. Such is the body of man in general: for I do not enter into an anatomical detail, my design being only to discover the art that is conspicuous in nature, by the simple cast of an eye, without any science. The body of man might undoubtedly be either much bigger and taller, or much lesser and smaller. But if, for instance, it were but one foot high, it would be insulted by most animals, that would tread and crush it under their feet. If it were as tall as a high steeple, a small number of men would in a few days consume all the aliments a whole country affords. They could find neither horses nor any other beasts of burden either to carry them on their backs or draw them in a machine with wheels; nor could they find sufficient quantity of materials to build houses proportioned to their bigness; and as there could be but a small number of men upon earth, so they should want most conveniences. Now, who is it that has so well regulated the size of man to so just a standard? Who is it that has fixed that of other animals and living creatures, with proportion to that of man? Of all animals, man only stands upright on his feet, which gives him a nobleness and majesty that distinguishes him, even as to the outside, from all that lives upon earth. Not only his figure is the noblest, but he is also the strongest and most dextrous of all animals, in proportion to his bigness. Let one nicely examine the bulk and weight of the most terrible beasts, and he will find, that though they have more matter than the body of a man, yet a vigorous man has more strength of body than most wild beasts. Nor are these dreadful to him, except in their teeth and claws. But man, who has not such natural arms in his limbs, has yet hands, whose dexterity to make artificial weapons surpasses all that nature has bestowed upon beasts. Thus man either pierces with his darts or draws into his snares, masters, and leads in chains the strongest and fiercest animals. Nay, he has the skill to tame them in their captivity, and to sport with them as he pleases. He teaches lions and tigers to caress him: and gets on the back of elephants. SECT. XLIII. Of the Soul, which alone, among all Creatures, Thinks and Knows. But the body of man, which appears to be the masterpiece of nature, is not to be compared to his thought. It is certain that there are bodies that do not think: man, for instance, ascribes no knowledge to stone, wood, or metals, which undoubtedly are bodies. Nay, it is so natural to believe that matter cannot think, that all unprejudiced men cannot forbear laughing when they hear any one assert that beasts are but mere machines; because they cannot conceive that mere machines can have such knowledge as they pretend to perceive in beasts. They think it to be like children's playing, and talking to their puppets, the ascribing any knowledge to mere machines. Hence it is that the ancients themselves, who knew no real substance but the body, pretended, however, that the soul of a man was a fifth element, or a sort of quintessence without name, unknown here below, indivisible, immutable, and altogether celestial and divine, because they could not conceive that the terrestrial matter of the four elements could think, and know itself: Aristoteles quintam quandam naturam censet esse, e qua sit mens. Cogitare enim, et providere, et discere, et docere. . . . in horum quatuor generum nullo inesse putat; quintum genus adhibet vacans nomine. SECT. XLIV. Matter Cannot Think. But let us suppose whatever you please, for I will not enter the lists with any sect of philosophers: here is an alternative which no philosopher can avoid. Either matter can become a thinking substance, without adding anything to it, or matter cannot think at all, and so what thinks in us is a substance distinct from matter, and which is united to it. If matter can acquire the faculty of thinking without adding anything to it, it must, at least, be owned that all matter does not think, and that even some matter that now thinks did not think fifty years ago; as, for instance, the matter of which the body of a young man is made up did not think ten years before he was born. It must then be concluded that matter can acquire the faculty of thinking by a certain configuration, ranging, and motion of its parts. Let us, for instance, suppose the matter of a stone, or of a heap of sand. It is agreed this part of matter has no manner of thought; and therefore to make it begin to think, all its parts must be configurated, ranged, and moved a certain way and to a certain degree. Now, who is it that knew how to find, with so much niceness, that proportion, order, and motion that way, and to such a degree, above and below which matter would never think? Who is it that has given all those just, exact, and precise modifications to a vile and shapeless matter, in order to form the body of a child, and to render it rational by degrees? If, on the contrary, it be affirmed that matter cannot become a thinking substance without adding something to it, and that another being must be united to it, I ask, what will that other thinking being be, whilst the matter, to which it is united, only moves? Therefore, here are two natures or substances very unlike and distinct. We know one by figures and local motions only; as we do the other by perceptions and reasonings. The one does not imply, or create the idea of the other, for their respective ideas have nothing in common. SECT. XLV. Of the Union of the Soul and Body, of which God alone can be the Author. But now, how comes it to pass that beings so unlike are so intimately united together in man? Whence comes it that certain motions of the body so suddenly and so infallibly raise certain thoughts in the soul? Whence comes it that the thoughts of the soul, so suddenly and so infallibly, occasion certain motions in the body? Whence proceeds so regular a society, for seventy or fourscore years, without any interruption? How comes it to pass that this union of two beings, and two operations, so very different, make up so exact a compound, that many are tempted to believe it to be a simple and indivisible whole? What hand had the skill to unite and tie together these two extremes and opposites? It is certain they did not unite themselves by mutual consent, for matter having of itself neither thought nor will, to make terms and conditions, it could not enter into an agreement with the mind. On the other hand, the mind does not remember that it ever made an agreement with matter; nor could it be subjected to such an agreement, if it had quite forgot it. If the mind had freely, and of its own accord, resolved to submit to the impressions of matter, it would not, however, subject itself to them but when it should remember such a resolution, which, besides, it might alter at pleasure. Nevertheless, it is certain that in spite of itself it is dependent on the body, and that it cannot free itself from its dependence, unless it destroy the organs of the body by a violent death. Besides, although the mind had voluntarily subjected itself to matter, it would not follow that matter were reciprocally subjected to the mind. The mind would indeed have certain thoughts when the body should have certain motions, but the body would not be determined to have, in its turn, certain motions, as soon as the mind should have certain thoughts. Now it is most certain that this dependence is reciprocal. Nothing is more absolute than the command of the mind over the body. The mind wills, and, instantly, all the members of the body are in motion, as if they were acted by the most powerful machines. On the other hand, nothing is more manifest than the power and influence of the body over the mind. The body is in motion, and, instantly the mind is forced to think either with pleasure or pain, upon certain objects. Now, what hand equally powerful over these two divers and distinct natures has been able to bring them both under the same yoke, and hold them captive in so exact and inviolable a society? Will any man say it was chance? If he does, will he be able either to understand what he means, or to make it understood by others? Has chance, by a concourse of atoms, hooked together the parts of the body with the mind? If the mind can be hooked with some parts of the body, it must have parts itself, and consequently be a perfect body, in which case, we relapse into the first answer, which I have already confuted. If, on the contrary, the mind has no parts, nothing can hook it with those of the body, nor has chance wherewithal to tie them together. In short, my alternative ever returns, and is peremptory and decisive. If the mind and body are a whole made up of matter only, how comes it to pass that this matter, which yesterday did not, has this day begun to think? Who is it that has bestowed upon it what it had not, and which is without comparison more noble than thoughtless matter? What bestows thought upon it, has it not itself, and how can it give what it has not? Let us even suppose that thought should result from a certain configuration, ranging, and degree of motion a certain way, of all the parts of matter: what artificer has had the skill to find out all those just, nice, and exact combinations, in order to make a thinking machine? If, on the contrary, the mind and body are two distinct natures, what power superior to those two natures has been able to unite and tie together without the mind's assent, or so much as its knowing which way that union was made? Who is it that with such absolute and supreme command over-rules both minds and bodies, and keeps them in society and correspondence, and under a sort of incomprehensible policy? SECT. XLVI. The Soul has an Absolute Command over the Body. Be pleased to observe that the command of my mind over my body is supreme and absolute in its bounded extent, since my single will, without any effort or preparation, causes all the members of my body to move on a sudden and immediately, according to the rules of mechanics. As the Scripture gives us the character of God, who said after the creation of the universe, "Let there be light, and there was light"--in like manner, the inward word of my soul alone, without any effort or preparation, makes what it says. I say, for instance, within myself, through that inward, simple, and momentaneous word, "Let my body move, and it moves." At the command of that simple and intimate will, all the parts of my body are at work. Immediately all nerves are distended, all the springs hasten to concur together, and the whole machine obeys, just as if every one of the most secret of those organs heard a supreme and omnipotent voice. This is certainly the most simple and most effectual power that can be conceived. All the other beings within our knowledge afford not the like instance of it, and this is precisely what men that are sensible and persuaded of a Deity ascribe to it in all the universe. Shall I ascribe it to my feeble mind, or rather to the power it has over my body, which is so vastly different from it? Shall I believe that my will has that supreme command of its own nature, though in itself so weak and imperfect? But how comes it to pass that, among so many bodies, it has that power over no more than one? For no other body moves according to its desires. Now, who is it that gave over one body the power it had over no other? Will any man be again so bold as to ascribe this to chance? SECT. XLVII. The Power of the Soul over the Body is not only Supreme or Absolute, but Blind at the same time. But that power, which is so supreme and absolute, is blind at the same time. The most simple and ignorant peasant knows how to move his body as well as a philosopher the most skilled in anatomy. The mind of a peasant commands his nerves, muscles, and tendons, which he knows not, and which he never heard of. He finds them without knowing how to distinguish them, or knowing where they lie; he calls precisely upon such as he has occasion for, nor does he mistake one for the other. If a rope-dancer, for instance, does but will, the spirits instantly run with impetuousness, sometimes to certain nerves, sometimes to others--all which distend or slacken in due time. Ask him which of them he set a-going, and which way he begun to move them? He will not so much as understand what you mean. He is an absolute stranger to what he has done in all the inward springs of his machine. The lute-player, who is perfectly well acquainted with all the strings of his instrument, who sees them with his eyes, and touches them one after another with his fingers, yet mistakes them sometimes. But the soul that governs the machine of man's body moves all its springs in time, without seeing or discerning them, without being acquainted with their figure, situation, or strength, and yet it never mistakes. What prodigy is here! My mind commands what it knows not, and cannot see; what neither has, nor is capable of any knowledge. And yet it is infallibly obeyed. How much blindness and how much power at once is here! The blindness is man's; but the power, whose is it? To whom shall we ascribe it, unless it be to Him who sees what man does not see, and performs in him what passes his understanding? It is to no purpose my mind is willing to move the bodies that surround it, and which it knows very distinctly; for none of them stirs, and it has not power to move the least atom by its will. There is but one single body, which some superior Power must have made its property. With respect to this body, my mind is but willing, and all the springs of that machine, which are unknown to it, move in time and in concert to obey him. St. Augustin, who made these reflections, has expressed them excellently well. "The inward parts of our bodies," says he, "cannot be living but by our souls; but our souls animate them far more easily than they can know them. . . . The soul knows not the body which is subject to it. . . . It does not know why it does not move the nerves but when it pleases; and why, on the contrary, the pulsation of veins goes on without interruption, whether the mind will or no. It knows not which is the first part of the body it moves immediately, in order thereby to move all the rest. . . . It does not know why it feels in spite of itself, and moves the members only when it pleases. It is the mind does these things in the body. But how comes it to pass it neither knows what she does, nor in what manner it performs it? Those who learn, anatomy," continues that father, "are taught by others what passes within, and is performed by themselves. Why," says he, "do I know, without being taught, that there is in the sky, at a prodigious distance from me, a sun and stars; and why have I occasion for a master to learn where motion begins? . . . When I move my finger, I know not how what I perform within myself is performed. We are too far above, and cannot comprehend ourselves." SECT. XLVIII. The Sovereignty of the Soul over the Body principally appears in the Images imprinted in the Brain. It is certain we cannot sufficiently admire either the absolute power of the soul over corporeal organs which she knows not, or the continual use it makes of them without discerning them. That sovereignty principally appears with respect to the images imprinted in our brain. I know all the bodies of the universe that have made any impression on my senses for a great many years past. I have distinct images of them that represent them to me, insomuch that I believe I see them even when they exist no more. My brain is like a closet full of pictures, which should move and set themselves in order at the master's pleasure. Painters, with all their art and skill, never attain but an imperfect likeness; whereas the pictures I have in my head are so faithful, that it is by consulting them I perceive all the defects of those made by painters, and correct them within myself. Now, do these images, more like their original than the masterpieces of the art of painting, imprint themselves in my head without any art? Is my brain a book, all the characters of which have ranged themselves of their own accord? If there be any art in the case, it does not proceed from me. For I find within me that collection of images without having ever so much as thought either to imprint them, or set them in order. Moreover, all these images either appear or retire as I please, without any confusion. I call them back, and they return; I dismiss them, and they sink I know not where. They either assemble or separate, as I please. But I neither know where they lie, nor what they are. Nevertheless I find them always ready. The agitation of so many images, old and new, that revive, join, or separate, never disturbs a certain order that is amongst them. If some of them do not appear at the first summons, at least I am certain they are not far off. They may lurk in some deep corner, but I am not totally ignorant of them as I am of things I never knew; for, on the contrary, I know confusedly what I look for. If any other image offers itself in the room of that I called for, I immediately dismiss it, telling it, "It is not you I have occasion for." But, then, where lie objects half-forgotten? They are present within me, since I look for them there, and find them at last. Again, in what manner are they there, since I look for them a long while in vain? What becomes of them? "I am no more," says St. Augustin, "what I was when I had the thoughts I cannot find again. I know not," continues that father, "either how it comes to pass that I am thus withdrawn from and deprived of myself, or how I am afterwards brought back and restored to myself. I am, as it were, another man, and carried to another place, when I look for, and do not find, what I had trusted to my memory. In such a case we cannot reach, and are, in a manner, strangers remote from ourselves. Nor do we come at us but when we find what we are in quest of. But where is it we look for but within us? Or what is it we look for but ourselves? . . . So unfathomable a difficulty astonishes us!" I distinctly remember I have known what I do not know at present. I remember my very oblivion. I call to mind the pictures or images of every person in every period of life wherein I have seen them formerly, so that the same person passes several times in my head. At first, I see one a child, then a young, and afterwards an old, man. I place wrinkles in the same face in which, on the other side, I see the tender graces of infancy. I join what subsists no more with what is still, without confounding these extremes. I preserve I know not what, which, by turns, is all that I have seen since I came into the world. Out of this unknown store come all the perfumes, harmonies, tastes, degrees, and mixtures of colours; in short, all the figures that have passed through my senses, and which they have trusted to my brain. I revive when I please the joy I felt thirty years ago. It returns; but sometimes it is not the same it was formerly, and appears without rejoicing me. I remember I have been well pleased, and yet am not so while I have that remembrance. On the other hand, I renew past sorrows and troubles. They are present; for I distinctly perceive them such as they were formerly, and not the least part of their bitterness and lively sense escapes my memory. But yet they are no more the same; they are dulled, and neither trouble nor disquiet me. I perceive all their severity without feeling it; or, if I feel it, it is only by representation, which turns a former smart and racking pain into a kind of sport and diversion, for the image of past sorrows rejoices me. It is the same with pleasures: a virtuous mind is afflicted by the memory of its disorderly unlawful enjoyments. They are present, for they appear with all their softest and most flattering attendants; but they are no more themselves, and such joys return only to make us uneasy. SECT. XLIX. Two Wonders of the Memory and Brain. Here, therefore, are two wonders equally incomprehensible. The first, that my brain is a kind of book, that contains a number almost infinite of images, and characters ranged in an order I did not contrive, and of which chance could not be the author. For I never had the least thought either of writing anything in my brain, or to place in any order the images and characters I imprinted in it. I had no other thought but only to see the objects that struck my senses. Neither could chance make so marvellous a book: even all the art of man is too imperfect ever to reach so high a perfection, therefore what hand had the skill to compose it? The second wonder I find in my brain, is to see that my mind reads with so much ease, whatever it pleases, in that inward book; and read even characters it does not know. I never saw the traces or figures imprinted in my brain, and even the substance of my brain itself, which is like the paper of that book, is altogether unknown to me. All those numberless characters transpose themselves, and afterwards resume their rank and place to obey my command. I have, as it were, a divine power over a work I am unacquainted with, and which is incapable of knowledge. That which understands nothing, understands my thought and performs it instantly. The thought of man has no power over bodies: I am sensible of it by running over all nature. There is but one single body which my bare will moves, as if it were a deity; and even moves the most subtle and nicest springs of it, without knowing them. Now, who is it that united my will to this body, and gave it so much power over it? SECT. L. The Mind of Man is mixed with Greatness and Weakness. Its Greatness consists in two things. First, the Mind has the Idea of the Infinite. Let us conclude these observations by a short reflection on the essence of our mind; in which I find an incomprehensible mixture of greatness and weakness. Its greatness is real: for it brings together the past and the present, without confusion; and by its reasoning penetrates into futurity. It has the idea both of bodies and spirits. Nay, it has the idea of the infinite: for it supposes and affirms all that belongs to it, and rejects and denies all that is not proper to it. If you say that the infinite is triangular, the mind will answer without hesitation, that what has no bounds can have no figure. If you desire it to assign the first of the units that make up an infinite number, it will readily answer, that there can be no beginning, end, or number in the infinite; because if one could find either a first or last unit in it, one might add some other unit to that, and consequently increase the number. Now a number cannot be infinite, when it is capable of some addition, and when a limit may be assigned to it, on the side where it may receive an increase. SECT. LI. The Mind knows the Finite only by the Idea of the Infinite. It is even in the infinite that my mind knows the finite. When we say a man is sick, we mean a man that has no health; and when we call a man weak, we mean one that has no strength. We know sickness, which is a privation of health, no other way but by representing to us health itself as a real good, of which such a man is deprived; and, in like manner, we only know weakness, by representing to us strength as a real advantage, which such a man is not master of. We know darkness, which is nothing real, only by denying, and consequently by conceiving daylight, which is most real, and most positive. In like manner we know the finite only by assigning it a bound, which is a mere negation of a greater extent; and consequently only the privation of the infinite. Now a man could never represent to himself the privation of the infinite, unless he conceived the infinite itself: just as he could not have a notion of sickness, unless he had an idea of health, of which it is only a privation. Now, whence comes that idea of the infinite in us? SECT. LII. Secondly, the Ideas of the Mind are Universal, Eternal, and Immutable. Oh! how great is the mind of man! He carries within him wherewithal to astonish, and infinitely to surpass himself: since his ideas are universal, eternal, and immutable. They are universal: for when I say it is impossible to be and not to be; the whole is bigger than a part of it; a line perfectly circular has no straight parts; between two points given the straight line is the shortest; the centre of a perfect circle is equally distant from all the points of the circumference; an equilateral triangle has no obtuse or right angle: all these truths admit of no exception. There never can be any being, line, circle, or triangle, but according to these rules. These axioms are of all times, or to speak more properly, they exist before all time, and will ever remain after any comprehensible duration. Let the universe be turned topsy-turvy, destroyed, and annihilated; and even let there be no mind to reason about beings, lines, circles, and triangles: yet it will ever be equally true in itself, that the same thing cannot at once be and not be; that a perfect circle can have no part of a straight line; that the centre of a perfect circle cannot be nearer one side of the circumference than the other. Men may, indeed, not think actually on these truths: and it might even happen that there should be neither universe nor any mind capable to reflect on these truths: but nevertheless they are still constant and certain in themselves although no mind should be acquainted with them; just as the rays of the sun would not cease being real, although all men should be blind, and no body have eyes to be sensible of their light. By affirming that two and two make four, says St. Augustin, man is not only certain that he speaks truth, but he cannot doubt that such a proposition was ever equally true, and must be so eternally. These ideas we carry within ourselves have no bounds, and cannot admit of any. It cannot be said that what I have affirmed about the centre of perfect circles is true only in relation to a certain number of circles; for that proposition is true, through evident necessity, with respect to all circles ad infinitum. These unbounded ideas can never be changed, altered, impaired, or defaced in us; for they make up the very essence of our reason. Whatever effort a man may make in his own mind, yet it is impossible for him ever to entertain a serious doubt about the truths which those ideas clearly represent to us. For instance, I never can seriously call in question, whether the whole is bigger than one of its parts; or whether the centre of a perfect circle is equally distant from all the points of the circumference. The idea of the infinite is in me like that of numbers, lines, circles, a whole, and a part. The changing our ideas would be, in effect, the annihilating reason itself. Let us judge and make an estimate of our greatness by the immutable infinite stamp within us, and which can never be defaced from our minds. But lest such a real greatness should dazzle and betray us, by flattering our vanity, let us hasten to cast our eyes on our weakness. SECT. LIII. Weakness of Man's Mind. That same mind that incessantly sees the infinite, and, through the rule of the infinite, all finite things, is likewise infinitely ignorant of all the objects that surround it. It is altogether ignorant of itself, and gropes about in an abyss of darkness. It neither knows what it is, nor how it is united with a body; nor which way it has so much command over all the springs of that body, which it knows not. It is ignorant of its own thoughts and wills. It knows not, with certainty, either what it believes or wills. It often fancies to believe and will, what it neither believes nor wills. It is liable to mistake, and its greatest excellence is to acknowledge it. To the error of its thoughts, it adds the disorder and irregularity of its will and desires; so that it is forced to groan in the consciousness and experience of its corruption. Such is the mind of man, weak, uncertain, stinted, full of errors. Now, who is it that put the idea of the infinite, that is to say of perfection, in a subject so stinted and so full of imperfection? Did it give itself so sublime, and so pure an idea, which is itself a kind of infinite in imagery? What finite being distinct from it was able to give it what bears no proportion with what is limited within any bounds? Let us suppose the mind of man to be like a looking-glass, wherein the images of all the neighbouring bodies imprint themselves. Now what being was able to stamp within us the image of the infinite, if the infinite never existed? Who can put in a looking-glass the image of a chimerical object which is not in being, and which was never placed against the glass? This image of the infinite is not a confused collection of finite objects, which the mind may mistake for a true infinite. It is the true infinite of which we have the thought and idea. We know it so well, that we exactly distinguish it from whatever it is not; and that no subtilty can palm upon us any other object in its room. We are so well acquainted with it, that we reject from it any propriety that denotes the least bound or limit. In short, we know it so well, that it is in it alone we know all the rest, just as we know the night by the day, sickness by health. Now, once more, whence comes so great an image? Does it proceed from nothing? Can a stinted limited being imagine and invent the infinite, if there be no infinite at all? Our weak and short-sighted mind cannot of itself form that image, which, at this rate, should have no author. None of the outward objects can give us that image: for they can only give us the image of what they are, and they are limited and imperfect. Therefore, from whence shall we derive that distinct image which is unlike anything within us, and all we know here below, without us? Whence does it proceed? Where is that infinite we cannot comprehend, because it is really infinite: and which nevertheless we cannot mistake, because we distinguish it from anything that is inferior to it? Sure it must be somewhere, otherwise how could it imprint itself in our minds? SECT. LIV. The Ideas of Man are the Immutable Rules of his Judgment. But besides the idea of the infinite, I have yet universal and immutable notions, which are the rule and standard of all my judgments; insomuch that I cannot judge of anything but by consulting them; nor am I free to judge contrary to what they represent to me. My thoughts are so far from being able to correct or form that rule, that they are themselves corrected, in spite of myself, by that superior rule; and invincibly subjected to its decision. Whatever effort my mind can make, I can never be brought, as I observed before, to entertain a doubt whether two and two make four; whether the whole is bigger than one of its parts; or whether the centre of a perfect circle be equally distant from all the points of the circumference. I am not free to deny those propositions; and if I happen to deny those truths, or others much like them, there is in me something above myself, which forces me to return to the rule. That fixed and immutable rule is so inward and intimate, that I am tempted to take it for myself. But it is above me, since it corrects and rectifies me; gives me a distrust of myself, and makes me sensible of my impotency. It is something that inspires me every moment, provided I hearken to it, and I never err or mistake except when I am not attentive to it. What inspires me would for ever preserve me from error, if I were docile, and acted without precipitation; for that inward inspiration would teach me to judge aright of things within my reach, and about which I have occasion to form a judgment. As for others, it would teach me not to judge of them at all, which second lesson is no less important than the first. That inward rule is what I call my reason; but I speak of my reason without penetrating into the extent of those words, as I speak of nature and instinct, without knowing what those expressions mean. SECT. LV. What Man's Reason is. It is certain my reason is within me, for I must continually recollect myself to find it; but the superior reason that corrects me upon occasion, and which I consult, is none of mine, nor is it part of myself. That rule is perfect and immutable; whereas I am changeable and imperfect. When I err, it preserves its rectitude. When I am undeceived, it is not set right, for it never was otherwise; and still keeping to truth has the authority to call, and bring me back to it. It is an inward master that makes me either be silent or speak; believe, or doubt; acknowledge my errors, or confirm my judgment. I am instructed by hearkening to it; whereas I err and go astray when I hearken to myself. That Master is everywhere, and His voice is heard, from one end of the universe to the other, by all men as well as me. Whilst He corrects and rectifies me in France, He corrects and sets right other men in China, Japan, Mexico, and in Peru, by the same principles. SECT. LVI. Reason is the Same in all Men, of all Ages and Countries. Two men who never saw or heard of one another, and who never entertained any correspondence with any other man that could give them common notions, yet speak at two extremities of the earth, about a certain number of truths, as if they were in concert. It is infallibly known beforehand in one hemisphere, what will be answered in the other upon these truths. Men of all countries and of all ages, whatever their education may have been, find themselves invincibly subjected and obliged to think and speak in the same manner. The Master who incessantly teaches us makes all of us think the same way. Whenever we hastily judge, without hearkening to His voice, in diffidence of ourselves, we think and utter dreams full of extravagance. Thus what appears most to be part of ourselves, and our very essence, I mean our reason, is least our own, and what, on the contrary, ought to be accounted most borrowed. We continually receive a reason superior to us, as we incessantly breathe the air, which is a foreign body; or as we incessantly see all the objects near us by the light of the sun, whose rays are bodies foreign to our eyes. That superior reason over-rules and governs, to a certain degree, with an absolute power all men, even the least rational, and makes them all ever agree, in spite of themselves, upon those points. It is she that makes a savage in Canada think about a great many things, just as the Greek and Roman philosophers did. It is she that made the Chinese geometricians find out much of the same truths with the Europeans, whilst those nations so very remote were unknown one to another. It is she that makes people in Japan conclude, as in France, that two and two make four; nor is it apprehended that any nation shall ever change their opinion about it. It is she that makes men think nowadays about certain points, just as men thought about the same four thousand years ago. It is she that gives uniform thoughts to the most jealous and jarring men, and the most irreconcilable among themselves. It is by her that men of all ages and countries are, as it were, chained about an immovable centre, and held in the bonds of amity by certain invariable rules, called first principles, notwithstanding the infinite variations of opinions that arise in them from their passion, avocations, and caprices, which over-rule all their other less-clear judgments. It is through her that men, as depraved as they are, have not yet presumed openly to bestow on vice the name of virtue, and that they are reduced to dissemble being just, sincere, moderate, benevolent, in order to gain one another's esteem. The most wicked and abandoned of men cannot be brought to esteem what they wish they could esteem, or to despise what they wish they could despise. It is not possible to force the eternal barrier of truth and justice. The inward master, called reason, intimately checks the attempt with absolute power, and knows how to set bounds to the most impudent folly of men. Though vice has for many ages reigned with unbridled licentiousness, virtue is still called virtue; and the most brutish and rash of her adversaries cannot yet deprive her of her name. Hence it is that vice, though triumphant in the world, is still obliged to disguise itself under the mask of hypocrisy or sham honesty, to gain the esteem it has not the confidence to expect, if it should go bare-faced. Thus, notwithstanding its impudence, it pays a forced homage to virtue, by endeavouring to adorn itself with her fairest outside in order to receive the honour and respect she commands from men. It is true virtuous men are exposed to censure; and they are, indeed, ever reprehensible in this life, through their natural imperfections; but yet the most vicious cannot totally efface in themselves the idea of true virtue. There never was yet any man upon earth that could prevail either with others, or himself, to allow, as a received maxim, that to be knavish, passionate, and mischievous, is more honourable than to be honest, moderate, good-natured, and benevolent. SECT. LVII. Reason in Man is Independent of and above Him. I have already evinced that the inward and universal master, at all times, and in all places, speaks the same truths. We are not that master: though it is true we often speak without, and higher than him. But then we mistake, stutter, and do not so much as understand ourselves. We are even afraid of being made sensible of our mistakes, and we shut up our ears, lest we should be humbled by his corrections. Certainly the man who is apprehensive of being corrected and reproved by that uncorruptible reason, and ever goes astray when he does not follow it, is not that perfect, universal, and immutable reason, that corrects him, in spite of himself. In all things we find, as it were, two principles within us. The one gives, the other receives; the one fails, or is defective; the other makes up; the one mistakes, the other rectifies; the one goes awry, through his inclination, the other sets him right. It was the mistaken and ill-understood experience of this that led the Marcionites and Manicheans into error. Every man is conscious within himself of a limited and inferior reason, that goes astray and errs, as soon as it gets loose from an entire subordination, and which mends its error no other way, but by returning under the yoke of another superior, universal, and immutable reason. Thus everything within us argues an inferior, limited, communicated, and borrowed reason, that wants every moment to be rectified by another. All men are rational by means of the same reason, that communicates itself to them, according to various degrees. There is a certain number of wise men; but the wisdom from which they draw theirs, as from an inexhaustible source, and which makes them what they are, is but ONE. SECT. LVIII. It is the Primitive Truth, that Lights all Minds, by communicating itself to them. Where is that wisdom? Where is that reason, at once both common and superior to all limited and imperfect reasons of mankind? Where is that oracle, which is never silent, and against which all the vain prejudices of men cannot prevail? Where is that reason which we have ever occasion to consult, and which prevents us to create in us the desire of hearing its voice? Where is that lively light which lighteth every man that cometh into the world? Where is that pure and soft light, which not only lights those eyes that are open, but which opens eyes that are shut; cures sore eyes; gives eyes to those that have none to see it; in short, which raises the desire of being lighted by it, and gains even their love, who were afraid to see it? Every eye sees it; nor would it see anything, unless it saw it; since it is by that light and its pure rays that the eye sees everything. As the sensibler sun in the firmament lights all bodies, so the sun of intelligence lights all minds. The substance of a man's eye is not the light: on the contrary, the eye borrows, every moment, the light from the rays of the sun. Just in the same manner, my mind is not the primitive reason, or universal and immutable truth; but only the organ through which that original light passes, and which is lighted by it. There is a sun of spirits that lights them far better than the visible sun lights bodies. This sun of spirits gives us, at once, both its light, and the love of it, in order to seek it. That sun of truth leaves no manner of darkness, and shines at the same time in the two hemispheres. It lights us as much by night as by day; nor does it spread its rays outwardly; but inhabits in every one of us. A man can never deprive another man of its beams. One sees it equally, in whatever corner of the universe he may lurk. A man never needs say to another, step aside, to let me see that sun; you rob me of its rays; you take away my share of it. That sun never sets: nor suffers any cloud, but such as are raised by our passions. It is a day without shadow. It lights the savages even in the deepest and darkest caves; none but sore eyes wink against its light; nor is there indeed any man so distempered and so blind, but who still walks by the glimpse of some duskish light he retains from that inward sun of consciences. That universal light discovers and represents all objects to our minds; nor can we judge of anything but by it; just as we cannot discern anybody but by the rays of the sun. SECT. LIX. It is by the Light of Primitive Truth a Man Judges whether what one says to him be True or False. Men may speak and discourse to us in order to instruct us: but we cannot believe them any farther, than we find a certain conformity or agreement between what they say, and what the inward master says. After they have exhausted all their arguments, we must still return, and hearken to him, for a final decision. If a man should tell us that a part equals the whole of which it is a part, we should not be able to forbear laughing, and instead of persuading us, he would make himself ridiculous to us. It is in the very bottom of ourselves, by consulting the inward master, that we must find the truths that are taught us, that is, which are outwardly proposed to us. Thus, properly speaking, there is but one true Master, who teaches all, and without whom one learns nothing. Other masters always refer and bring us back to that inward school where he alone speaks. It is there we receive what we have not; it is there we learn what we were ignorant of; and find what we had lost by oblivion. It is in the intimate bottom of ourselves, he keeps in store for us certain truths, that lie, as it were, buried, but which revive upon occasion; and it is there, in short, that we reject the falsehood we had embraced. Far from judging that master, it is by him alone we are judged peremptorily in all things. He is a judge disinterested, impartial, and superior to us. We may, indeed, refuse hearing him, and raise a din to stun our ears: but when we hear him it is not in our power to contradict him. Nothing is more unlike man than that invisible master that instructs and judges him with so much severity, uprightness, and perfection. Thus our limited, uncertain, defective, fallible reason, is but a feeble and momentaneous inspiration of a primitive, supreme, and immutable reason, which communicates itself with measure, to all intelligent beings. SECT. LX. The Superior Reason that resides in Man is God Himself; and whatever has been above discovered to be in Man, are evident Footsteps of the Deity. It cannot be said that man gives himself the thoughts he had not before; much less can it be said that he receives them from other men, since it is certain he neither does nor can admit anything from without, unless he finds it in his own bottom, by consulting within him the principles of reason, in order to examine whether what he is told is agreeable or repugnant to them. Therefore there is an inward school wherein man receives what he neither can give himself, nor expect from other men who live upon trust as well as himself. Here then, are two reasons I find within me; one of which, is myself, the other is above me. That which is myself is very imperfect, prejudiced, liable to error, changeable, headstrong, ignorant, and limited; in short it possesses nothing but what is borrowed. The other is common to all men, and superior to them. It is perfect, eternal, immutable, ever ready to communicate itself in all places, and to rectify all minds that err and mistake; in short, incapable of ever being either exhausted or divided, although it communicates itself to all who desire it. Where is that perfect reason which is so near me, and yet so different from me? Where is it? Sure it must be something real; for nothing or nought cannot either be perfect or make perfect imperfect natures. Where is that supreme reason? Is it not the very God I look for? SECT. LXI. New sensible Notices of the Deity in Man, drawn from the Knowledge he has of Unity. I still find other traces or notices of the Deity within me: here is a very sensible one. I am acquainted with prodigious numbers with the relations that are between them. Now how come I by that knowledge? It is so very distinct that I cannot seriously doubt of it; and so, immediately, without the least hesitation, I rectify any man that does not follow it in computation. If a man says seventeen and three make twenty-two, I presently tell him seventeen and three make but twenty; and he is immediately convinced by his own light, and acquiesces in my correction. The same Master who speaks within me to correct him speaks at the same time within him to bid him acquiesce. These are not two masters that have agreed to make us agree. It is something indivisible, eternal, immutable, that speaks at the same time with an invincible persuasion in us both. Once more, how come I by so just a notion of numbers? All numbers are but repeated units. Every number is but a compound, or a repetition of units. The number of two, for instance, is but two units; the number of four is reducible to one repeated four times. Therefore we cannot conceive any number without conceiving unity, which is the essential foundation of any possible number; nor can we conceive any repetition of units without conceiving unity itself, which is its basis. But which way can I know any real unit? I never saw, nor so much as imagined any by the report of my senses. Let me take, for instance, the most subtle atom; it must have a figure, length, breadth, and depth, a top and a bottom, a left and a right side; and again the top is not the bottom, nor one side the other. Therefore this atom is not truly one, for it consists of parts. Now a compound is a real number, and a multitude of beings. It is not a real unit, but a collection of beings, one of which is not the other. I therefore never learnt by my eyes, my ears, my hands, nor even by my imagination, that there is in nature any real unity; on the contrary, neither my senses nor my imagination ever presented to me anything but what is a compound, a real number or a multitude. All unity continually escapes me; it flies me as it were by a kind of enchantment. Since I look for it in so many divisions of an atom, I certainly have a distinct idea of it; and it is only by its simple and clear idea that I arrive, by the repetition of it, at the knowledge of so many other numbers. But since it escapes me in all the divisions of the bodies of nature, it clearly follows that I never came by the knowledge of it, through the canal of my senses and imagination. Here therefore is an idea which is in me independently from the senses, imagination, and impressions of bodies. Moreover, although I would not frankly acknowledge that I have a clear idea of unity, which is the foundation of all numbers, because they are but repetitions or collections of units: I must at least be forced to own that I know a great many numbers with their proprieties and relations. I know, for instance, how much make 900,000,000 joined with 800,000,000 of another sum. I make no mistake in it; and I should, with certainty, immediately rectify any man that should. Nevertheless, neither my senses nor my imagination were ever able to represent to me distinctly all those millions put together. Nor would the image they should represent to me be more like seventeen hundred millions than a far inferior number. Therefore, how came I by so distinct an idea of numbers, which I never could either feel or imagine? These ideas, independent upon bodies, can neither be corporeal nor admitted in a corporeal subject. They discover to me the nature of my soul, which admits what is incorporeal and receives it within itself in an incorporeal manner. Now, how came I by so incorporeal an idea of bodies themselves? I cannot by my own nature carry it within me, since what in me knows bodies is incorporeal; and since it knows them, without receiving that knowledge through the canal of corporeal organs, such as the senses and imagination. What thinks in me must be, as it were, a nothing of corporeal nature. How was I able to know beings that have by nature no relation with my thinking being? Certainly a being superior to those two natures, so very different, and which comprehends them both in its infinity, must have joined them in my soul, and given me an idea of a nature entirely different from that which thinks in me. SECT. LXII. The Idea of the Unity proves that there are Immaterial Substances; and that there is a Being Perfectly One, who is God. As for units, some perhaps will say that I do not know them by the bodies, but only by the spirits; and, therefore, that my mind being one, and truly known to me, it is by it, and not by the bodies, I have the idea of unity. But to this I answer. It will, at least, follow from thence that I know substances that have no manner of extension or divisibility, and which are present. Here are already beings purely incorporeal, in the number of which I ought to place my soul. Now, who is it that has united it to my body? This soul of mine is not an infinite being; it has not been always, and it thinks within certain bounds. Now, again, who makes it know bodies so different from it? Who gives it so great a command over a certain body; and who gives reciprocally to that body so great a command over the soul? Moreover, which way do I know whether this thinking soul is really one, or whether it has parts? I do not see this soul. Now, will anybody say that it is in so invisible, and so impenetrable, a thing that I clearly see what unity is? I am so far from learning by my soul what the being One is, that, on the contrary, it is by the clear idea I have already of unity that I examine whether my soul be one or divisible. Add to this, that I have within me a clear idea of a perfect unity, which is far above that I may find in my soul. The latter is often conscious that she is divided between two contrary opinions, inclinations, and habits. Now, does not this division, which I find within myself, show and denote a kind of multiplicity and composition of parts? Besides, the soul has, at least, a successive composition of thoughts, one of which is most different and distinct from another. I conceive an unity infinitely more One, if I may so speak. I conceive a Being who never changes His thoughts, who always thinks all things at once, and in which no composition, even successive, can be found. Undoubtedly it is the idea of the perfect and supreme unity that makes me so inquisitive after some unity in spirits, and even in bodies. This idea, ever present within me, is innate or inborn with me; it is the perfect model by which I seek everywhere some imperfect copy of the unity. This idea of what is one, simple, and indivisible by excellence can be no other than the idea of God. I, therefore, know God with such clearness and evidence, that it is by knowing Him I seek in all creatures, and in myself, some image and likeness of His unity. The bodies have, as it were, some mark or print of that unity, which still flies away in the division of its parts; and the spirits have a greater likeness of it, although they have a successive composition of thoughts. SECT. LXIII. Dependence and Independence of Man. His Dependence Proves the Existence of his Creator. But here is another mystery which I carry within me, and which makes me incomprehensible to my self, viz.: that on the one hand I am free, and on the other dependent. Let us examine these two things, and see whether it is possible to reconcile them. I am a dependent being. Independency is the supreme perfection. To be by one's self is to carry within one's self the source or spring of one's own being; or, which is the same, it is to borrow nothing from any being different from one's self. Suppose a being that has all the perfections you can imagine, but which has a borrowed and dependent being, and you will find him to be less perfect than another being in which you would suppose but bare independency. For there is no comparison to be made between a being that exists by himself and a being who has nothing of his own--nothing but what is precarious and borrowed--and is in himself, as it were, only upon trust. This consideration brings me to acknowledge the imperfection of what I call my soul. If she existed by herself, it would borrow nothing from another; she would not want either to be instructed in her ignorances, or to be rectified in her errors. Nothing could reclaim her from her vices, or inspire her with virtue; for nothing would be able to render her will better than it should have been at first. This soul would ever possess whatever she should be capable to enjoy, nor could she ever receive any addition from without. On the other hand, it is no less certain that she could not lose anything, for what is or exists by itself is always necessarily whatever it is. Therefore my soul could not fall into ignorance, error, or vice, or suffer any diminution of good-will; nor could she, on the other hand, instruct or correct herself, or become better than she is. Now, I experience the contrary of all these; for I forget, mistake, err, go astray, lose the sight of truth and the love of virtue, I corrupt, I diminish. On the other hand, I improve and increase by acquiring wisdom and good-will, which I never had. This intimate experience convinces me that my soul is not a being existing by itself and independent; that is necessary, and immutable in all it possesses and enjoys. Now, whence proceeds this augmentation and improvement of myself? Who is it that can enlarge and perfect my being by making me better, and, consequently, greater than I was? SECT. LXIV. Good Will cannot Proceed but from a Superior Being. The will or faculty of willing is undoubtedly a degree of being, and of good, or perfection; but good-will, benevolence, or desire of good, is another degree of superior good. For one may misuse will in order to wish ill, cheat, hurt, or do injustice; whereas good- will is the good or right use of will itself, which cannot but be good. Good-will is therefore what is most precious in man. It is that which sets a value upon all the rest. It is, as it were, "The whole man:" Hoc enim omnis homo. I have already shown that my will is not by itself, since it is liable to lose and receive degrees of good or perfection; and likewise that it is a good inferior to good-will, because it is better to will good than barely to have a will susceptible both of good and evil. How could I be brought to believe that I, a weak, imperfect, borrowed, precarious, and dependent being, bestow on myself the highest degree of perfection, while it is visible and evident that I derive the far inferior degree of perfection from a First Being? Can I imagine that God gives me the lesser good, and that I give myself the greater without Him? How should I come by that high degree of perfection in order to give it myself! Should I have it from nothing, which is all my own stock? Shall I say that other spirits, much like or equal to mine, give it me? But since those limited and dependent beings like myself cannot give themselves anything no more than I can, much less can they bestow anything upon another. For as they do not exist by themselves, so they have not by themselves any true power, either over me, or over things that are imperfect in me, or over themselves. Wherefore, without stopping with them, we must go up higher in order to find out a first, teeming, and most powerful cause, that is able to bestow on my soul the good will she has not. SECT. LXV. As a Superior Being is the Cause of All the Modifications of Creatures, so it is Impossible for Man's Will to Will Good by Itself or of its own Accord. Let us still add another reflection. That First Being is the cause of all the modifications of His creatures. The operation follows the Being, as the philosophers are used to speak. A being that is dependent in the essence of his being cannot but be dependent in all his operations, for the accessory follows the principal. Therefore, the Author of the essence of the being is also the Author of all the modifications or modes of being of creatures. Thus God is the real and immediate cause of all the configurations, combinations, and motions of all the bodies of the universe. It is by means or upon occasion of a body He has set in motion that He moves another. It is He who created everything and who does everything in His creatures or works. Now, volition is the modification of the will or willing faculty of the soul, just as motion is the modification of bodies. Shall we affirm that God is the real, immediate, and total cause of the motion of all bodies, and that He is not equally the real and immediate cause of the good-will of men's wills? Will this modification, the most excellent of all, be the only one not made by God in His own work, and which the work bestows on itself independently? Who can entertain such a thought? Therefore my good-will which I had not yesterday and which I have to-day is not a thing I bestow upon myself, but must come from Him who gave me both the will and the being. As to will is a greater perfection than barely to be, so to will good is more perfect than to will. The step from power to a virtuous act is the greatest perfection in man. Power is only a balance or poise between virtue and vice, or a suspension between good and evil. The passage or step to the act is a decision or determination for the good, and consequent by the superior good. The power susceptible of good and evil comes from God, which we have fully evinced. Now, shall we affirm that the decisive stroke that determines to the greater good either is not at all, or is less owing to Him? All this evidently proves what the Apostle says, viz., that God "works both to will and to do of His good pleasure." Here is man's dependence; let us look for his liberty. SECT. LXVI. Of Man's Liberty. I am free, nor can I doubt of it. I am intimately and invincibly convinced that I can either will or not will, and that there is in me a choice not only between willing and not willing, but also between divers wills about the variety of objects that present themselves. I am sensible, as the Scripture says, that I "am in the hands of my Council," which alone suffices to show me that my soul is not corporeal. All that is body or corporeal does not in the least determine itself, and is, on the contrary, determined in all things by laws called physical, which are necessary, invincible, and contrary to what I call liberty. From thence I infer that my soul is of a nature entirely different from that of my body. Now who is it that was able to join by a reciprocal union two such different natures, and hold them in so just a concert for all their respective operations? That tie, as we observed before, cannot be formed but by a Superior Being, who comprehends and unites those two sorts of perfections in His own infinite perfection. SECT. LXVII. Man's Liberty Consists in that his Will by determining, Modifies Itself. It is not the same with the modification of my soul which is called will, and by some philosophers volition, as with the modifications of bodies. A body does not in the least modify itself, but is modified by the sole power of God. It does not move itself, it is moved; it does not act in anything, it is only acted and actuated. Thus God is the only real and immediate cause of all the different modifications of bodies. As for spirits the case is different, for my will determines itself. Now to determine one's self to a will is to modify one's self, and therefore my will modifies itself. God may prevent my soul, but He does not give it the will in the same manner as He gives motion to bodies. If it is God who modifies me, I modify myself with Him, and am with Him a real cause of my own will. My will is so much my own that I am only to blame if I do not will what I ought. When I will a thing it is in my power not to will it, and when I do not will it it is likewise in my power to will it. I neither am nor can be compelled in my will; for I cannot will what I actually will in spite of myself, since the will I mean evidently excludes all manner of constraint. Besides the exemption from all compulsion, I am likewise free from necessity. I am conscious and sensible that I have, as it were, a two-edged will, which at its own choice may be either for the affirmative or the negative, the yes or the no, and turn itself either towards an object or towards another. I know no other reason or determination of my will but my will itself. I will a thing because I am free to will it; and nothing is so much in my power as either to will or not to will it. Although my will should not be constrained, yet if it were necessitated it would be as strongly and invincibly determined to will as bodies are to move. An invincible necessity would have as much influence over the will with respect to spirits as it has over motion with respect to bodies; and, in such a case, the will would be no more accountable for willing than a body for moving. It is true the will would will what it would; but the motion by which a body is moved is the same as the volition by which the willing faculty wills. If therefore volition be necessitated as motion it deserves neither more nor less praise or blame. For though a necessitated will may seem to be a will unconstrained, yet it is such a will as one cannot forbear having, and for which he that has it is not accountable. Nor does previous knowledge establish true liberty, for a will may be preceded by the knowledge of divers objects, and yet have no real election or choice. Nor is deliberation or the being in suspense any more than a vain trifle, if I deliberate between two counsels when I am under an actual impotency to follow the one and under an actual necessity to pursue the other. In short, there is no serious and true choice between two objects, unless they be both actually ready within my reach so that I may either leave or take which of the two I please. SECT. LXVIII. Will may Resist Grace, and Its Liberty is the Foundation of Merit and Demerit. When therefore I say I am free, I mean that my will is fully in my power, and that even God Himself leaves me at liberty to turn it which way I please, that I am not determined as other beings, and that I determine myself. I conceive that if that First Being prevents me, to inspire me with a good-will, it is still in my power to reject His actual inspiration, how strong soever it may be, to frustrate its effect, and to refuse my assent to it. I conceive likewise that when I reject His inspiration for the good, I have the true and actual power not to reject it; just as I have the actual and immediate power to rise when I remain sitting, and to shut my eyes when I have them open. Objects may indeed solicit me by all their allurements and agreeableness to will or desire them. The reasons for willing may present themselves to me with all their most lively and affecting attendants, and the Supreme Being may also attract me by His most persuasive inspirations. But yet for all this actual attraction of objects, cogency of reasons, and even inspiration of a Superior Being, I still remain master of my will, and am free either to will or not to will. It is this exemption not only from all manner of constraint or compulsion but also from all necessity and this command over my own actions that render me inexcusable when I will evil, and praiseworthy when I will good; in this lies merit and demerit, praise and blame; it is this that makes either punishment or reward just; it is upon this consideration that men exhort, rebuke, threaten, and promise. This is the foundation of all policy, instruction, and rules of morality. The upshot of the merit and demerit of human actions rests upon this basis, that nothing is so much in the power of our will as our will itself, and that we have this free-will--this, as it were, two-edged faculty--and this elative power between two counsels which are immediately, as it were, within our reach. It is what shepherds and husbandmen sing in the fields, what merchants and artificers suppose in their traffic, what actors represent in public shows, what magistrates believe in their councils, what doctors teach in their schools; it is that, in short, which no man of sense can seriously call in question. That truth imprinted in the bottom of our hearts, is supposed in the practice, even by those philosophers who would endeavour to shake it by their empty speculations. The intimate evidence of that truth is like that of the first principles, which want no proof, and which serve themselves as proofs to other truths that are not so clear and self-evident. But how could the First Being make a creature who is himself the umpire of his own actions? SECT. LXIX. A Character of the Deity, both in the Dependence and Independence of Man. Let us now put together these two truths equally certain. I am dependent upon a First Being even in my own will; and nevertheless I am free. What then is this dependent liberty? how is it possible for a man to conceive a free-will, that is given by a First Being? I am free in my will, as God is in His. It is principally in this I am His image and likeness. What a greatness that borders upon infinite is here! This is a ray of the Deity itself: it is a kind of Divine power I have over my will; but I am but a bare image of that supreme Being so absolutely free and powerful. The image of the Divine independence is not the reality of what it represents; and, therefore, my liberty is but a shadow of that First Being, by whom I exist and act. On the one hand, the power I have of willing evil is, indeed, rather a weakness and frailty of my will than a true power: for it is only a power to fall, to degrade myself, and to diminish my degree of perfection and being. On the other hand, the power I have to will good is not an absolute power, since I have it not of myself. Now liberty being no more than that power, a precarious and borrowed power can constitute but a precarious, borrowed, and dependent liberty; and, therefore, so imperfect and so precarious a being cannot but be dependent. But how is he free? What profound mystery is here! His liberty, of which I cannot doubt, shows his perfection; and his dependence argues the nothingness from which he was drawn. SECT. LXX. The Seal and Stamp of the Deity in His Works. We have seen the prints of the Deity, or to speak more properly, the seal and stamp of God Himself, in all that is called the works of nature. When a man will not enter into philosophical subtleties, he observes with the first cast of the eye a hand, that was the first mover, in all the parts of the universe, and set all the wheels of the great machine a-going. The heavens, the earth, the stars, plants, animals, our bodies, our minds: everything shows and proclaims an order, an exact measure, an art, a wisdom, a mind superior to us, which is, as it were, the soul of the whole world, and which leads and directs everything to his ends, with a gentle and insensible, though omnipotent, force. We have seen, as it were, the architecture and frame of the universe; the just proportion of all its parts; and the bare cast of the eye has sufficed us to find and discover even in an ant, more than in the sun, a wisdom and power that delights to exert itself in the polishing and adorning its vilest works. This is obvious, without any speculative discussion, to the most ignorant of men; but what a world of other wonders should we discover, should we penetrate into the secrets of physics, and dissect the inward parts of animals, which are framed according to the most perfect mechanics. SECT. LXXI. Objection of the Epicureans, who Ascribe Everything to Chance, considered. I hear certain philosophers who answer me that all this discourse on the art that shines in the universe is but a continued sophism. "All nature," will they say, "is for man's use, it is true; but you have no reason to infer from thence, that it was made with art, and on purpose for the use of man. A man must be ingenious in deceiving himself who looks for and thinks to find what never existed." "It is true," will they add, "that man's industry makes use of an infinite number of things that nature affords, and are convenient for him; but nature did not make those things on purpose for his conveniency. As, for instance, some country fellows climb up daily, by certain craggy and pointed rocks, to the top of a mountain; but yet it does not follow that those points of rocks were cut with art, like a staircase, for the conveniency of men. In like manner, when a man happens to be in the fields, during a stormy rain, and fortunately meets with a cave, he uses it, as he would do a house, for shelter; but, however, it cannot be affirmed that this cave was made on purpose to serve men for a house. It is the same with the whole world: it was formed by chance, and without design; but men finding it as it is, had the art to turn and improve it to their own uses. Thus the art you admire both in the work and its artificer, is only in men, who know how to make use of everything that surrounds them." This is certainly the strongest objection those philosophers can raise; and I hope they will have no reason to complain that I have weakened it; but it will immediately appear how weak it is in itself when closely examined. The bare repetition of what I said before will be sufficient to demonstrate it. SECT. LXXII. Answer to the Objection of the Epicureans, who Ascribe all to Chance. What would one say of a man who should set up for a subtle philosopher, or, to use the modern expression, a free-thinker, and who entering a house should maintain it was made by chance, and that art had not in the least contributed to render it commodious to men, because there are caves somewhat like that house, which yet were never dug by the art of man? One should show to such a reasoner all the parts of the house, and tell him for instance:--Do you see this great court-gate? It is larger than any door, that coaches may enter it. This court has sufficient space for coaches to turn in it. This staircase is made up of low steps, that one may ascend it with ease; and turns according to the apartments and stories it is to serve. The windows, opened at certain distances, light the whole building. They are glazed, lest the wind should enter with the light; but they may be opened at pleasure, in order to breathe a sweet air when the weather is fair. The roof is contrived to defend the whole house from the injuries of the air. The timber-work is laid slanting and pointed at the top, that the rain and snow may easily slide down on both sides. The tiles bear one upon another, that they may cover the timber-work. The divers floors serve to make different stories, in order to multiply lodgings within a small space. The chimneys are contrived to light fire in winter without setting the house on fire, and to let out the smoke, lest it should offend those that warm themselves. The apartments are distributed in such a manner that they be disengaged from one another; that a numerous family may lodge in the house, and the one not be obliged to pass through another's room; and that the master's apartment be the principal. There are kitchens, offices, stables, and coach- houses. The rooms are furnished with beds to lie in, chairs to sit on, and tables to write and eat on. Sure, should one urge to that philosopher, this work must have been directed by some skilful architect; for everything in it is agreeable, pleasant, proportioned, and commodious; and besides, he must needs have had excellent artists under him. "Not at all," would such a philosopher answer; "you are ingenious in deceiving yourself. It is true this house is pleasant, agreeable, proportioned, and commodious; but yet it made itself with all its proportions. Chance put together all the stones in this excellent order; it raised the walls, jointed and laid the timber-work, cut open the casements, and placed the staircase: do not believe any human hand had anything to do with it. Men only made the best of this piece of work when they found it ready made. They fancy it was made for them, because they observe things in it which they know how to improve to their own conveniency; but all they ascribe to the design and contrivance of an imaginary architect, is but the effect of their preposterous imaginations. This so regular, and so well-contrived house, was made in just the same manner as a cave, and men finding it ready made to their hands made use of it, as they would in a storm, of a cave they should find under a rock in a desert." What thoughts could a man entertain of such a fantastic philosopher, if he should persist seriously to assert that such a house displays no art? When we read the fabulous story of Amphion, who by a miraculous effect of harmony caused the stones to rise, and placed themselves, with order and symmetry, one on the top of another, in order to form the walls of Thebes, we laugh and sport with that poetical fiction: but yet this very fiction is not so incredible as that which the free-thinking philosopher we contend with would dare to maintain. We might, at least, imagine that harmony, which consists in a local motion of certain bodies, might (by some of those secret virtues, which we admire in nature, without being acquainted with them) shake and move the stones into a certain order and in a sort of cadence, which might occasion some regularity in the building. I own this explanation both shocks and clashes with reason; but yet it is less extravagant than what I have supposed a philosopher should say. What, indeed, can be more absurd, than to imagine stones that hew themselves, that go out of the quarry, that get one on the top of another, without leaving any empty space; that carry with them mortar to cement one another; that place themselves in different ranks for the contrivance of apartments; and who admit on the top of all the timber-roof, with the tiles, in order to cover the whole work? The very children, that cannot yet speak plain, would laugh, if they were seriously told such a ridiculous story. SECT. LXXIII. Comparison of the World with a Regular House. A Continuation of the Answer to the Objection of the Epicureans. But why should it appear less ridiculous to hear one say that the world made itself, as well as that fabulous house? The question is not to compare the world with a cave without form, which is supposed to be made by chance: but to compare it with a house in which the most perfect architecture should be conspicuous. For the structure and frame of the least living creature is infinitely more artful and admirable than the finest house that ever was built. Suppose a traveller entering Saida, the country where the ancient Thebes, with a hundred gates, stood formerly, and which is now a desert, should find there columns, pyramids, obelisks, and inscriptions in unknown characters. Would he presently say: men never inhabited this place; no human hand had anything to do here; it is chance that formed these columns, that placed them on their pedestals, and crowned them with their capitals, with such just proportions; it is chance that so firmly jointed the pieces that make up these pyramids; it is chance that cut the obelisks in one single stone, and engraved in them these characters? Would he not, on the contrary, say, with all the certainty the mind of man is capable of: these magnificent ruins are the remains of a noble and majestical architecture that flourished in ancient Egypt? This is what plain reason suggests, at the first cast of the eye, or first sight, and without reasoning. It is the same with the bare prospect of the universe. A man may by vain, long-winded, preposterous reasonings confound his own reason and obscure the clearest notions: but the single cast of the eye is decisive. Such a work as the world is never makes itself of its own accord. There is more art and proportion in the bones, tendons, veins, arteries, nerves, and muscles, that compose man's body, than in all the architecture of the ancient Greeks and Egyptians. The single eye of the least of living creatures surpasses the mechanics of all the most skilful artificers. If a man should find a watch in the sands of Africa, he would never have the assurance seriously to affirm, that chance formed it in that wild place; and yet some men do not blush to say that the bodies of animals, to the artful framing of which no watch can ever be compared, are the effects of the caprices of chance. SECT. LXXIV. Another Objection of the Epicureans drawn from the Eternal Motion of Atoms. I am not ignorant of a reasoning which the Epicureans may frame into an objection. "The atoms will, they say, have an eternal motion; their fortuitous concourse must, in that eternity, have already produced infinite combinations. Who says infinite, says what comprehends all without exception. Amongst these infinite combinations of atoms which have already happened successively, all such as are possible must necessarily be found: for if there were but one possible combination, beyond those contained in that infinite, it would cease to be a true infinite, because something might be added to it; and whatever may be increased, being limited on the side it may receive an addition, is not truly infinite. Hence it follows that the combination of atoms, which makes up the present system of the world, is one of the combinations which the atoms have had successively: which being laid as a principle, is it matter of wonder that the world is as it is now? It must have taken this exact form, somewhat sooner, or somewhat later, for in some one of these infinite changes it must, at last, have received that combination that makes it now appear so regular; since it must have had, by turns, all combinations that can be conceived. All systems are comprehended in the total of eternity. There is none but the concourse of atoms, forms, and embraces, sooner or later. In that infinite variety of new spectacles of nature, the present was formed in its turn. We find ourselves actually in this system. The concourse of atoms that made will, in process of time, unmake it, in order to make others, ad infinitum, of all possible sorts. This system could not fail having its place, since all others without exception are to have theirs, each in its turn. It is in vain one looks for a chimerical art in a work which chance must have made as it is. "An example will suffice to illustrate this. I suppose an infinite number of combinations of the letters of the alphabet, successively formed by chance. All possible combinations are, undoubtedly, comprehended in that total, which is truely infinite. Now, it is certain that Homer's Iliad is but a combination of letters: therefore Homer's Iliad is comprehended in that infinite collection of combinations of the characters of the alphabet. This being laid down as a principle, a man who will assign art in the Iliad, will argue wrong. He may extol the harmony of the verses, the justness and magnificence of the expressions, the simplicity and liveliness of images, the due proportion of the parts of the poem, its perfect unity, and inimitable conduct; he may object that chance can never make anything so perfect, and that the utmost effort of human wit is hardly capable to finish so excellent a piece of work: yet all in vain, for all this specious reasoning is visibly false. It is certain, on the contrary, that the fortuitous concourse of characters, putting them together by turns with an infinite variety, the precise combination that composes the Iliad must have happened in its turn, somewhat sooner or somewhat later. It has happened at last; and thus the Iliad is perfect, without the help of any human art." This is the objection fairly laid down in its full latitude; I desire the reader's serious and continued attention to the answers I am going to make to it. SECT. LXXV. Answers to the Objection of the Epicureans drawn from the Eternal Motion of Atoms. Nothing can be more absurd than to speak of successive combinations of atoms infinite in number; for the infinite can never be either successive or divisible. Give me, for instance, any number you may pretend to be infinite, and it will still be in my power to do two things that shall demonstrate it not to be a true infinite. In the first place, I can take an unit from it; and in such a case it will become less than it was, and will certainly be finite; for whatever is less than the infinite has a boundary or limit on the side where one stops, and beyond which one might go. Now the number which is finite as soon as one takes from it one single unit, could not be infinite before that diminution; for an unit is certainly finite, and a finite joined with another finite cannot make an infinite. If a single unit added to a finite number made an infinite, it would follow from thence that the finite would be almost equal to the infinite; than which nothing can be more absurd. In the second place, I may add an unit to that number given, and consequently increase it. Now what may be increased is not infinite, for the infinite can have no bound; and what is capable of augmentation is bounded on the side a man stops, when he might go further and add some units to it. It is plain, therefore, that no divisible compound can be the true infinite. This foundation being laid, all the romance of the Epicurean philosophy disappears and vanishes out of sight in an instant. There never can be any divisible body truly infinite in extent, nor any number or any succession that is a true infinite. From hence it follows that there never can be an infinite successive number of combinations of atoms. If this chimerical infinite were real, I own all possible and conceivable combinations of atoms would be found in it; and that consequently all combinations that seem to require the utmost industry would likewise be included in them. In such a case, one might ascribe to mere chance the most marvellous performances of art. If one should see palaces built according to the most perfect rules of architecture, curious furniture, watches, clocks, and all sort of machines the most compounded, in a desert island, he should not be free reasonably to conclude that there have been men in that island who made all those exquisite works. On the contrary, he ought to say, "Perhaps one of the infinite combinations of atoms which chance has successively made, has formed all these compositions in this desert island without the help of any man's art;" for such an assertion is a natural consequence of the principles of the Epicureans. But the very absurdity of the consequence serves to expose the extravagance of the principle they lay down. When men, by the natural rectitude of their common sense, conclude that such sort of works cannot result from chance, they visibly suppose, though in a confused manner, that atoms are not eternal, and that in their fortuitous concourse they had not an infinite succession of combinations. For if that principle were admitted, it would no longer be possible ever to distinguish the works of art from those that should result from those combinations as fortuitous as a throw at dice. SECT. LXXVI. The Epicureans confound the Works of Art with those of Nature. All men who naturally suppose a sensible difference between the works of art and those of chance do consequently, though but implicitly, suppose that the combinations of atoms were not infinite--which supposition is very just. This infinite succession of combinations of atoms is, as I showed before, a more absurd chimera than all the absurdities some men would explain by that false principle. No number, either successive or continual, can be infinite; from whence it follows that the number of atoms cannot be infinite, that the succession of their various motions and combinations cannot be infinite, that the world cannot be eternal, and that we must find out a precise and fixed beginning of these successive combinations. We must recur to a first individual in the generations of every species. We must likewise find out the original and primitive form of every particle of matter that makes a part of the universe. And as the successive changes of that matter must be limited in number, we must not admit in those different combinations but such as chance commonly produces; unless we acknowledge a Superior Being, who with the perfection of art made the wonderful works which chance could never have made. SECT. LXXVII. The Epicureans take whatever they please for granted, without any Proof. The Epicurean philosophers are so weak in their system that it is not in their power to form it, or bring it to bear, unless one admits without proofs their most fabulous postulata and positions. In the first place they suppose eternal atoms, which is begging the question; for how can they make out that atoms have ever existed and exist by themselves? To exist by one's self is the supreme perfection. Now, what authority have they to suppose, without proofs, that atoms have in themselves a perfect, eternal, and immutable being? Do they find this perfection in the idea they have of every atom in particular? An atom not being the same with, and being absolutely distinguished from, another atom, each of them must have in itself eternity and independence with respect to any other being. Once more, is it in the idea these philosophers have of each atom that they find this perfection? But let us grant them all they suppose in this question, and even what they ought to be ashamed to suppose--viz., that atoms are eternal, subsisting by themselves, independent from any other being, and consequently entirely perfect. SECT. LXXVIII. The Suppositions of the Epicureans are False and Chimerical. Must we suppose, besides, that atoms have motion of themselves? Shall we suppose it out of gaiety to give an air of reality to a system more chimerical than the tales of the fairies? Let us consult the idea we have of a body. We conceive it perfectly well without supposing it to be in motion, and represent it to us at rest; nor is its idea in this state less clear; nor does it lose its parts, figure, or dimensions. It is to no purpose to suppose that all bodies are perpetually in some motion, either sensible or insensible; and that though some parts of matter have a lesser motion than others, yet the universal mass of matter has ever the same motion in its totality. To speak at this rate is building castles in the air, and imposing vain imaginations on the belief of others; for who has told these philosophers that the mass of matter has ever the same motion in its totality? Who has made the experiment of it? Have they the assurance to bestow the name of philosophy upon a rash fiction which takes for granted what they never can make out? Is there no more to do than to suppose whatever one pleases in order to elude the most simple and most constant truths? What authority have they to suppose that all bodies incessantly move, either sensibly or insensibly? When I see a stone that appears motionless, how will they prove to me that there is no atom in that stone but what is actually in motion? Will they ever impose upon me bare suppositions, without any semblance of truth, for decisive proofs? SECT. LXXIX. It is Falsely supposed that Motion is Essential to Bodies. However, let us go a step further, and, out of excessive complaisance, suppose that all the bodies in Nature are actually in motion. Does it follow from thence that motion is essential to every particle of matter? Besides, if all bodies have not an equal degree of motion; if some move sensibly, and more swiftly than others; if the same body may move sometimes quicker and sometimes slower; if a body that moves communicates its motion to the neighbouring body that was at rest, or in such inferior motion that it was insensible--it must be confessed that a mode or modification which sometimes increases, and at other times decreases, in bodies is not essential to them. What is essential to a being is ever the same in it. Neither the motion that varies in bodies, and which, after having increased, slackens and decreases to such a degree as to appear absolutely extinct and annihilated; nor the motion that is lost, that is communicated, that passes from one body to another as a foreign thing--can belong to the essence of bodies. And, therefore, I may conclude that bodies are perfect in their essence without ascribing to them any motion. If they have no motion in their essence, they have it only by accident; and if they have it only by accident, we must trace up that accident to its true cause. Bodies must either bestow motion on themselves, or receive it from some other being. It is evident they do not bestow it on themselves, for no being can give what it has not in itself. And we are sensible that a body at rest ever remains motionless, unless some neighbouring body happens to shake it. It is certain, therefore, that no body moves by itself, and is only moved by some other body that communicates its motion to it. But how comes it to pass that a body can move another? What is the reason that a ball which a man causes to roll on a smooth table (billiards, for the purpose) cannot touch another without moving it? Why was it not possible that motion should not ever communicate itself from one body to another? In such a case a ball in motion would stop near another at their meeting, and yet never shake it. SECT. LXXX. The Rules of Motion, which the Epicureans suppose do not render it essential to Bodies. I may be answered that, according to the rules of motion among bodies, one ought to shake or move another. But where are those laws of motion written and recorded? Who both made them and rendered them so inviolable? They do not belong to the essence of bodies, for we can conceive bodies at rest; and we even conceive bodies that would not communicate their motion to others unless these rules, with whose original we are unacquainted, subjected them to it. Whence comes this, as it were, arbitrary government of motion over all bodies? Whence proceed laws so ingenious, so just, so well adapted one to the other, that the least alteration of or deviation from which would, on a sudden, overturn and destroy all the excellent order we admire in the universe? A body being entirely distinct from another, is in its nature absolutely independent from it in all respects. Whence it follows that it should not receive anything from it, or be susceptible of any of its impressions. The modifications of a body imply no necessary reason to modify in the same manner another body, whose being is entirely independent from the being of the first. It is to no purpose to allege that the most solid and most heavy bodies carry or force away those that are less big and less solid; and that, according to this rule, a great leaden ball ought to move a great ball of ivory. We do not speak of the fact; we only inquire into the cause of it. The fact is certain, and therefore the cause ought likewise to be certain and precise. Let us look for it without any manner of prepossession or prejudice. What is the reason that a great body carries off a little one? The thing might as naturally happen quite otherwise; for it might as well happen that the most solid body should never move any other body--that is to say, motion might be incommunicable. Nothing but custom obliges us to suppose that Nature ought to act as it does. SECT. LXXXI. To give a satisfactory Account of Motion we must recur to the First Mover. Moreover, it has been proved that matter cannot be either infinite or eternal; and, therefore, there must be supposed both a first atom (by which motion must have begun at a precise moment), and a first concourse of atoms (that must have formed the first combination). Now, I ask what mover gave motion to that first atom, and first set the great machine of the universe a-going? It is not possible to elude this home question by an endless circle, for this question, lying within a finite circumference, must have an end at last; and so we must find the first atom in motion, and the first moment of that first motion, together with the first mover, whose hand made that first impression. SECT. LXXXII. No Law of Motion has its Foundation in the Essence of the Body; and most of those Laws are Arbitrary. Among the laws of motion we must look upon all those as arbitrary which we cannot account for by the very essence of bodies. We have already made out that no motion is essential to any body. Wherefore all those laws which are supposed to be eternal and immutable are, on the contrary, arbitrary, accidental, and made without cogent necessity; for there is none of them that can be accounted for by the essence of bodies. If there were any law of motion essential to bodies, it would undoubtedly be that by which bodies of less bulk and less solid are moved by such as have more bulk and solidity. And yet we have seen that that very law is not to be accounted for by the essence of bodies. There is another which might also seem very natural--that, I mean, by which bodies ever move rather in a direct than a crooked line, unless their motion be otherwise determined by the meeting of other bodies. But even this rule has no foundation in the essence of matter. Motion is so very accidental, and super-added to the nature of bodies, that we do not find in this nature of bodies any primitive or immutable law by which they ought to move at all, much less to move according to certain rules. In the same manner as bodies might have existed, and yet have never either been in motion or communicated motion one to another, so they might never have moved but in a circular line, and this motion might have been as natural to them as the motion in a direct line. Now, who is it that pitched upon either of these two laws equally possible? What is not determined by the essence of bodies can have been determined by no other but Him who gave bodies the motion they had not in their own essence. Besides, this motion in a direct line might have been upwards or downwards, from right to left, or from left to right, or in a diagonal line. Now, who is it that determined which way the straight line should go? SECT. LXXXIII. The Epicureans can draw no Consequence from all their Suppositions, although the same should be granted them. Let us still attend the Epicureans even in their most fabulous suppositions, and carry on the fiction to the last degree of complaisance. Let us admit motion in the essence of bodies, and suppose, as they do, that motion in a direct line is also essential to all atoms. Let us bestow upon atoms both a will and an understanding, as poets did on rocks and rivers. And let us allow them likewise to choose which way they will begin their straight line. Now, what advantage will these philosophers draw from all I have granted them, contrary to all evidence? In the first place, all atoms must have been in motion from all eternity; secondly, they must all have had an equal motion; thirdly, they must all have moved in a direct line; fourthly, they must all have moved by an immutable and essential law. I am still willing to gratify our adversaries, so far as to suppose that those atoms are of different figures, for I will allow them to take for granted what they should be obliged to prove, and for which they have not so much as the shadow of a proof. One can never grant too much to men who never can draw any consequence from what is granted them; for the more absurdities are allowed them, the sooner they are caught by their own principles. SECT. LXXXIV. Atoms cannot make any Compound by the Motion the Epicureans assign them. These atoms of so many odd figures--some round, some crooked, others triangular, &c.--are by their essence obliged always to move in a straight line, without ever deviating or bending to the right or to the left; wherefore they never can hook one another, or make together any compound. Put, if you please, the sharpest hooks near other hooks of the like make; yet if every one of them never moves otherwise than in a line perfectly straight, they will eternally move one near another, in parallel lines, without being able to join and hook one another. The two straight lines which are supposed to be parallel, though immediate neighbours, will never cross one another, though carried on ad infinitum; wherefore in all eternity, no hooking, and consequently no compound, can result from that motion of atoms in a direct line. SECT. LXXXV. The Clinamen, Declination, or Sending of Atoms is a Chimerical Notion that throws the Epicureans into a gross Contradiction. The Epicureans, not being able to shut their eyes against this glaring difficulty, that strikes at the very foundation of their whole system, have, for a last shift, invented what Lucretius calls clinamen--by which is meant a motion somewhat declining or bending from the straight line, and which gives atoms the occasion to meet and encounter. Thus they turn and wind them at pleasure, according as they fancy best for their purpose. But upon what authority do they suppose this declination of atoms, which comes so pat to bear up their system? If motion in a straight line be essential to bodies, nothing can bend, nor consequently join them, in all eternity; the clinamen destroys the very essence of matter, and those philosophers contradict themselves without blushing. If, on the contrary, the motion in a direct line is not essential to all bodies, why do they so confidently suppose eternal, necessary, and immutable laws for the motion of atoms without recurring to a first mover? And why do they build a whole system of philosophy upon the precarious foundation of a ridiculous fiction? Without the clinamen the straight line can never produce anything, and the Epicurean system falls to the ground; with the clinamen, a fabulous poetical invention, the direct line is violated, and the system falls into derision and ridicule. Both the straight line and the clinamen are airy suppositions and mere dreams; but these two dreams destroy each other, and this is the upshot of the uncurbed licentiousness some men allow themselves of supposing as eternal truths whatever their imagination suggests them to support a fable; while they refuse to acknowledge the artful and powerful hand that formed and placed all the parts of the universe. SECT. LXXXVI. Strange Absurdity of the Epicureans, who endeavour to account for the Nature of the Soul by the Declination of Atoms. To reach the highest degree of amazing extravagance, the Epicureans have had the assurance to explain and account for what we call the soul of man and his free-will, by the clinamen, which is so unaccountable and inexplicable itself. Thus they are reduced to affirm that it is in this motion, wherein atoms are in a kind of equilibrium between a straight line and a line somewhat circular, that human will consists. Strange philosophy! If atoms move only in a straight line, they are inanimate, and incapable of any degree of knowledge, understanding, or will; but if the very same atoms somewhat deviate from the straight line, they become, on a sudden, animate, thinking, and rational. They are themselves intelligent souls, that know themselves, reflect, deliberate, and are free in their acts and determinations. Was there ever a more absurd metamorphosis? What opinion would men have of religion if, in order to assert it, one should lay down principles and positions so trifling and ridiculous as theirs who dare to attack it in earnest? SECT. LXXXVII. The Epicureans cast a Mist before their own Eyes by endeavouring to explain the Liberty of Man by the Declination of Atoms. But let us consider to what degree those philosophers impose upon their own understandings. What can they find in the clinamen that, with any colour, can account for the liberty of man? This liberty is not imaginary; for it is not in our power to doubt of our free- will, any more than it is to doubt of what we are intimately conscious and certain. I am conscious I am free to continue sitting when I rise in order to walk. I am sensible of it with so entire certainty that it is not in my power ever to doubt of it in earnest; and I should be inconsistent with myself if I dared to say the contrary. Can the proof of our religion be more evident and convincing? We cannot doubt of the existence of God unless we doubt of our own liberty; from whence I infer that no man can seriously doubt of the being of the Deity, since no man can entertain a serious doubt about his own liberty. If, on the contrary, it be frankly acknowledged that men are really free, nothing is more easy than to demonstrate that the liberty of man's will cannot consist of any combination of atoms, if one supposes that there was no first mover, who gave matter arbitrary laws for its motion. Motion must be essential to bodies, and all the laws of motion must also be as necessary as the essences of natures are. Therefore, according to this system, all the motions of bodies must be performed by constant, necessary, and immutable laws; the motion in a straight line must be essential to all atoms, that are not made to deviate from it by the encounter of other atoms; the straight line must likewise be essential either upwards or downwards, either from right to left, or left to right, or some other diagonal way, fixed, precise, and immutable. Besides, it is evident that no atom can make another atom deviate; for that other atom carries also in its essence the same invincible and eternal determination to follow the straight line the same way. From hence it follows that all the atoms placed at first on different lines must pursue ad infinitum those parallel lines without ever coming nearer one another; and that those who are in the same line must follow one another ad infinitum without ever coming up together, but keeping still the same distance from one another. The clinamen, as we have already shown, is manifestly impossible: but, contrary to evident truth, supposing it to be possible, in such a case it must be affirmed that the clinamen is no less necessary, immutable, and essential to atoms than the straight line. Now, will anybody say that an essential and immutable law of the local motion of atoms explains and accounts for the true liberty of man? Is it not manifest that the clinamen can no more account for it than the straight line itself? The clinamen, supposing it to be true, would be as necessary as the perpendicular line, by which a stone falls from the top of a tower into the street. Is that stone free in its fall? However, the will of man, according to the principle of the clinamen, has no more freedom than that stone. Is it possible for man to be so extravagant as to dare to contradict his own conscience about his free-will, lest he should be forced to acknowledge his God and maker? To affirm, on the one hand, that the liberty of man is imaginary, we must silence the voice and stifle the sense of all nature; give ourselves the lie in the grossest manner; deny what we are most intimately conscious and certain of; and, in short, be reduced to believe that we have no eligibility or choice of two courses, or things proposed, about which we fairly deliberate upon any occasion. Nothing does religion more honour than to see men necessitated to fall into such gross and monstrous extravagance as soon as they call in question the truths she teaches. On the other hand, if we own that man is truly free, we acknowledge in him a principle that never can be seriously accounted for, either by the combinations of atoms or the laws of local motion, which must be supposed to be all equally necessary and essential to matter, if one denies a first mover. We must therefore go out of the whole compass of matter, and search far from combined atoms some incorporeal principle to account for free-will, if we admit it fairly. Whatever is matter and an atom, moves only by necessary, immutable, and invincible laws: wherefore liberty cannot be found either in bodies, or in any local motion; and so we must look for it in some incorporeal being. Now whose hand tied and subjected to the organs of this corporeal machine that incorporeal being which must necessarily be in me united to my body? Where is the artificer that ties and unites natures so vastly different? Can any but a power superior both to bodies and spirits keep them together in this union with so absolute a sway? Two crooked atoms, says an Epicurean, hook one another. Now this is false, according to his very system; for I have demonstrated that those two crooked atoms never hook one another, because they never meet. But, however, after having supposed that two crooked atoms unite by hooking one another, the Epicurean must be forced to own that the thinking being, which is free in his operations, and which consequently is not a collection of atoms, ever moved by necessary laws, is incorporeal, and could not by its figure be hooked with the body it animates. Thus which way so ever the Epicurean turns, he overthrows his system with his own hands. But let us not, by any means, endeavour to confound men that err and mistake, since we are men as well as they, and no less subject to error. Let us only pity them, study to light and inform them with patience, edify them, pray for them, and conclude with asserting an evident truth. SECT. LXXXVIII. We must necessarily acknowledge the Hand of a First Cause in the Universe without inquiring why that first Cause has left Defects in it. Thus everything in the universe--the heavens, the earth, plants, animals, and, above all, men--bears the stamp of a Deity. Everything shows and proclaims a set design, and a series and concatenation of subordinate causes, over-ruled and directed with order by a superior cause. It is preposterous and foolish to criticise upon this great work. The defects that happen to be in it proceed either from the free and disorderly will of man, which produces them by its disorder, or from the ever holy and just will of God, who sometimes has a mind to punish impious men, and at other times by the wicked to exercise and improve the good. Nay, it happens oftentimes that what appears a defect to our narrow judgment in a place separate from the work is an ornament with respect to the general design, which we are not able to consider with views sufficiently extended and simple to know the perfection of the whole. Does not daily experience show that we rashly censure certain parts of men's works for want of being thoroughly acquainted with the whole extent of their designs and schemes? This happens, in particular, every day with respect to the works of painters and architects. If writing characters were of an immense bigness, each character at close view would take up a man's whole sight, so that it would not be possible for him to see above one at once; and, therefore, he would not be able to read--that is, put different letters together, and discover the sense of all those characters put together. It is the same with the great strokes of Providence in the conduct of the whole world during a long succession of ages. There is nothing but the whole that is intelligible; and the whole is too vast and immense to be seen at close view. Every event is like a particular character that is too large for our narrow organs, and which signifies nothing of itself and separate from the rest. When, at the consummation of ages, we shall see in God--that is, in the true point and centre of perspective--the total of human events, from the first to the last day of the universe, together with their proportions with regard to the designs of God, we shall cry out, "Lord, Thou alone art just and wise!" We cannot rightly judge of the works of men but by examining the whole. Every part ought not to have every perfection, but only such as becomes it according to the order and proportion of the different parts that compose the whole. In a human body, for instance, all the members must not be eyes, for there must be hands, feet, &c. So in the universe, there must be a sun for the day, but there must be also a moon for the night. Nec tibi occurrit perfecta universitas, nisi ubi majora sic praesto sunt, ut minora non desint. This is the judgment we ought to make of every part with respect to the whole. Any other view is narrow and deceitful. But what are the weak and puny designs of men, if compared to that of the creation and government of the universe? "As much as the heavens are above the earth, as much," says God in the Holy Writ, "are My ways and My thoughts above yours." Let, therefore, man admire what he understands, and be silent about what he does not comprehend. But, after all, even the real defects of this work are only imperfections which God was pleased to leave in it, to put us in mind that He drew and made it from nothing. There is not anything in the universe but what does and ought equally to bear these two opposite characters: on the one side, the seal or stamp of the artificer upon his work, and, on the other, the mark of its original nothing, into which it may relapse and dwindle every moment. It is an incomprehensible mixture of low and great; of frailty in the matter, and of art in the maker? The hand of God is conspicuous in everything, even in a worm that crawls on earth. Nothingness, on the other hand, appears everywhere, even in the most vast and most sublime genius. Whatever is not God, can have but a stinted perfection; and what has but a stinted perfection, always remains imperfect on the side where the boundary is sensible, and denotes that it might be improved. If the creature wanted nothing, it would be the Creator Himself; for it would have the fulness of perfection, which is the Deity itself. Since it cannot be infinite, it must be limited in perfection, that is, it must be imperfect on one side or other. It may have more or less imperfection, but still it must be imperfect. We must ever be able to point out the very place where it is defective, and to say, upon a critical examination, "This is what it might have had, what it has not." SECT. LXXXIX. The Defects of the Universe compared with those of a Picture. Do we conclude that a piece of painting is made by chance when we see in it either shades, or even some careless touches? The painter, we say, might have better finished those carnations, those draperies, those prospects. It is true, this picture is not perfect according to the nicest rules of art. But how extravagant would it be to say, "This picture is not absolutely perfect; therefore it is only a collection of colours formed by chance, nor did the hand of any painter meddle with it!" Now, what a man would blush to say of an indifferent and almost artless picture he is not ashamed to affirm of the universe, in which a crowd of incomprehensible wonders, with excellent order and proportion, are conspicuous. Let a man study the world as much as he pleases; let him descend into the minutest details; dissect the vilest of animals; narrowly consider the least grain of corn sown in the ground, and the manner in which it germinates and multiplies; attentively observe with what precautions a rose-bud blows and opens in the sun, and closes again at night; and he will find in all these more design, conduct, and industry than in all the works of art. Nay, what is called the art of men is but a faint imitation of the great art called the laws of Nature, and which the impious did not blush to call blind chance. Is it therefore a wonder that poets animated the whole universe, bestowed wings upon the winds, and arrows on the sun, and described great rivers impetuously running to precipitate themselves into the sea, and trees shooting up to heaven to repel the rays of the sun by their thick shades? These images and figures have also been received in the language of the vulgar, so natural it is for men to be sensible of the wonderful art that fills all nature. Poetry did only ascribe to inanimate creatures the art and design of the Creator, who does everything in them. From the figurative language of the poets those notions passed into the theology of the heathens, whose divines were the poets. They supposed an art, a power, or a wisdom, which they called numen, in creatures the most destitute of understanding. With them great rivers were gods; and springs, naiads. Woods and mountains had their particular deities; flowers had their Flora; and fruits, Pomona. After all, the more a man contemplates Nature, the more he discovers in it an inexhaustible stock of wisdom, which is, as it were, the soul of the universe. SECT. XC. We must necessarily conclude that there is a First Being that created the Universe. What must we infer from thence? The consequence flows of itself. "If so much wisdom and penetration," says Minutius Felix, "are required to observe the wonderful order and design of the structure of the world, how much more were necessary to form it!" If men so much admire philosophers, because they discover a small part of the wisdom that made all things, they must be stark blind not to admire that wisdom itself. SECT. XCI. Reasons why Men do not acknowledge God in the Universe, wherein He shows Himself to them, as in a faithful glass. This is the great object of the universe, wherein God, as it were in a glass, shows Himself to mankind. But some (I mean, the philosophers) were bewildered in their own thoughts. Everything with them turned into vanity. By their subtle reasonings some of them overshot and lost a truth which a man finds naturally and simply in himself without the help of philosophy. Others, intoxicated by their passions, live in a perpetual avocation of thought. To perceive God in His works a man must, at least, consider them with attention. But passions cast such a mist before the eyes, not only of wild savages, but even of nations that seem to be most civilised and polite, that they do not so much as see the light that lights them. In this respect the Egyptians, Grecians, and Romans were no less blind or less brutish than the rudest and most ignorant Americans. Like these, they lay, as it were, buried within sensible things without going up higher; and they cultivated their wit, only to tickle themselves with softer sensations, without observing from what spring they proceeded. In this manner the generality of men pass away their lives upon earth. Say nothing to them, and they will think on nothing except what flatters either their brutish passions or vanity. Their souls grow so heavy and unwieldy that they cannot raise their thoughts to any incorporeal object. Whatever is not palpable and cannot be seen, tasted, heard, felt, or told, appears chimerical to them. This weakness of the soul, turning into unbelief, appears strength of mind to them; and their vanity glories in opposing what naturally strikes and affects the rest of mankind, just as if a monster prided in not being formed according to the common rules of Nature, or as if one born blind boasted of his unbelief with respect to light and colours, which other men perceive and discern. SECT. XCII. A Prayer to God. O my God, if so many men do not discover Thee in this great spectacle Thou givest them of all Nature, it is not because Thou art far from any of us. Every one of us feels Thee, as it were, with his hand; but the senses, and the passions they raise, take up all the attention of our minds. Thus, O Lord, Thy light shines in darkness; but darkness is so thick and gloomy that it does not admit the beams of Thy light. Thou appearest everywhere; and everywhere unattentive mortals neglect to perceive Thee. All Nature speaks of Thee and resounds with Thy holy name; but she speaks to deaf men, whose deafness proceeds from the noise and clutter they make to stun themselves. Thou art near and within them; but they are fugitive, and wandering, as it were, out of themselves. They would find Thee, O Sweet Light, O Eternal Beauty, ever old and ever young, O Fountain of Chaste Delights, O Pure and Happy Life of all who live truly, should they look for Thee within themselves. But the impious lose Thee only by losing themselves. Alas! Thy very gifts, which should show them the hand from whence they flow, amuse them to such a degree as to hinder them from perceiving it. They live by Thee, and yet they live without thinking on Thee; or, rather, they die by the Fountain of Life for want of quenching their drought in that vivifying stream; for what greater death can there be than not to know Thee, O Lord? They fall asleep in Thy soft and paternal bosom, and, full of the deceitful dreams by which they are tossed in their sleep, they are insensible of the powerful hand that supports them. If Thou wert a barren, impotent, and inanimate body, like a flower that fades away, a river that runs, a house that decays and falls to ruin, a picture that is but a collection of colours to strike the imagination, or a useless metal that glisters--they would perceive Thee, and fondly ascribe to Thee the power of giving them some pleasure, although in reality pleasure cannot proceed from inanimate beings, which are themselves void and incapable of it, but only from Thee alone, the true spring of all joy. If therefore Thou wert but a lumpish, frail, and inanimate being, a mass without any virtue or power, a shadow of a being, Thy vain fantastic nature would busy their vanity, and be a proper object to entertain their mean and brutish thoughts. But because Thou art too intimately within them, and they never at home, Thou art to them an unknown God; for while they rove and wander abroad, the intimate part of themselves is most remote from their sight. The order and beauty Thou scatterest over the face of Thy creatures are like a glaring light that hides Thee from and dazzles their sore eyes. Thus the very light that should light them strikes them blind; and the rays of the sun themselves hinder them to see it. In fine, because Thou art too elevated and too pure a truth to affect gross senses, men who are become like beasts cannot conceive Thee, though man has daily convincing instances of wisdom and virtue without the testimony of any of his senses; for those virtues have neither sound, colour, odour, taste, figure, nor any sensible quality. Why then, O my God, do men call Thy existence, wisdom, and power more in question than they do those other things most real and manifest, the truth of which they suppose as certain, in all the serious affairs of life, and which nevertheless, as well as Thou, escape our feeble senses? O misery! O dismal night that surrounds the children of Adam! O monstrous stupidity! O confusion of the whole man! Man has eyes only to see shadows, and truth appears a phantom to him. What is nothing, is all; and what is all, is nothing to him. What do I behold in all Nature? God. God everywhere, and still God alone. When I think, O Lord, that all being is in Thee, Thou exhaustest and swallowest up, O Abyss of Truth, all my thoughts. I know not what becomes of me. Whatever is not Thou, disappears; and scarce so much of myself remains wherewithal to find myself again. Who sees Thee not, never saw anything; and who is not sensible of Thee, never was sensible of anything. He is as if he were not. His whole life is but a dream. Arise, O Lord, arise. Let Thy enemies melt like wax and vanish like smoke before Thy face. How unhappy is the impious soul who, far from Thee, is without God, without hope, without eternal comfort! How happy he who searches, sighs, and thirsts after Thee! But fully happy he on whom are reflected the beams of Thy countenance, whose tears Thy hand has wiped off, and whose desires Thy love has already completed. When will that time be, O Lord? O Fair Day, without either cloud or end, of which Thyself shalt be the sun, and wherein Thou shalt run through my soul like a torrent of delight? Upon this pleasing hope my bones shiver, and cry out:--"Who is like Thee, O Lord? My heart melts and my flesh faints, O God of my soul, and my eternal wealth." 
13274	----	Proofreaders A LITTLE Catechism, WITH _LITTLE VERSES_, AND LITTLE SAYINGS, FOR Little Children. * * * * * _LONDON_, Printed for John Lawrence at the _Angel_ in the _Poultrey_, 1692. * * * * * _A Catalogue of Books_, &c. Husband Mr. _Joseph Rowlandson_, &c. Remarks on the Affairs of Trade of _England_ and _Ireland_, &c. _Officium Cleri Desiderium Populi_, or Canonical Obedience asserted and proved to be the Duty of Gospel Ministers, and the Desire of all good Hearers. _Books in_ Octavo. The Catechizing of Families, a Teacher of Householders how to teach their Households; useful also to School-masters and Tutors of Youth. Scripture Gospel defended, and Christ, Grace, and free Justification vindicated against the Libertines, in two Books. The first a Breviate of Fifty Controversies. Second upon the re-printing of Dr. _Crisp's_ Sermon. Full and Easy Satisfaction, which is the true Religion, in a Conference between a Doubter, a Papist, and a Reformed Catholic Christian. A Key for Catholics to open the jugling of the Jesuits, containing some Arguments by which the meanest may see the Vanity of Popery, &c. A CATECHISM For Little Children to Learn. Question. _Who made you?_ _Answer._ GOD. Quest. _Who Redeemed you?_ _Answ._ Jesus Christ. Quest. _Who Sanctifieth and preserves you?_ _Answ._ The Holy Ghost. Quest. _Wherefore did God make you?_ _Answ._ To Serve him. Quest. _How must he be served?_ _Answ._ In Spirit and in Truth. Quest. _What is it to serve God?_ _Answ._ To keep his Commandements. Quest. _How many Commandments be there?_ _Answ._ Ten. Quest. _Which be they?_ _Answ._ The same which God spoke in the twentieth Chapter of _Exodus_, saying, _I am the Lord thy God, who brought thee out of the Land of Egypt, out of the House of Bondage._ _Quest._ Which is the First? Answ. _Thou shalt have no other gods before me._ _Quest._ Which is the Second? Answ. _Thou shalt not make unto thee any graven Image, or any likeness of any thing that is in Heaven above, or that is in the Earth beneath, or that is in the Water under the Earth: thou shalt not bow down thy self to them, nor serve them; for I the Lord thy God am a jealous God, visiting the Iniquity of the Fathers upon the Children, unto the third and fourth generation of them that hate me, and showing mercy unto thousands, of them that love me and keep my Commandements._ _Quest_. Which is the Third? Answ. _Thou shalt not take the Name of the Lord thy God in vain; for the Lord will not hold him guiltless that taketh his Name in vain_. _Quest_. Which is the Fourth? Answ. _Remember the Sabbath-day to keep it holy, six days shalt thou labour and do all thy work, but the seventh day is the Sabbath of the Lord thy God, in it thou shalt not do any work, thou, nor thy son, nor thy daughter, thy man-servant, nor thy maid-servant, nor thy cattel, nor thy stranger that is within thy gates; for in six dayes the Lord made Heaven and Earth, the Sea, and all that in them is, and rested the seventh day; wherefore the Lord blessed the Sabbath-day, and hallowed it_. _Quest_. Which is the Fifth? Answ. _Honour thy father and thy Mother, that thy days may be long upon the land which the Lord thy God giveth thee_. _Quest._ Which is the Sixth? Answ. _Thou shalt not kill._ _Quest._ Which is the Seventh? Answ. _Thou shalt not Commit Adultery._ _Quest._. Which is the Eighth? Answ. _Thou shalt not steal._ _Quest._ Which is the Ninth? Answ. _Thou shalt not bear false Witness against thy Neighbour._ _Quest._ Which is the Tenth? Answ. _Thou shalt not Covet thy Neighbour's House, thou shalt not Covet thy Neighbours Wife, nor his Man-servant, nor his Maid-servant, nor his Oxe, nor his Ass, nor any thing that is thy Neighbour's._ Quest. _Are you bound to keep all these Commandments?_ _Answ._ YES. Quest. _Are you bound to keep them in Thought, Word, and Deed?_ _Answ._ YES. Quest. _How are you bound to keep them?_ _Answ._ By my Baptism and by the Word of God. Quest. _Are you able to keep them of your self?_ _Answ._ NO. Quest. _Why so?_ _Answ._ Because I was conceived and born in sin. Quest. _From whence was that?_ _Answ._ From _Adam_'s Fall. Quest. _How did_ Adam _fall_? _Answ._ By Eating the forbidden Fruit. Quest. _Do you sin daily?_ _Answ._ YES. Quest. _What is Sin?_ _Answ._ The Breaking of God's Law. Quest. _What doth Sin deserve?_ _Answ_. HELL. Quest. _What is Hell?_ _Answ._ Darkness and Torments. Quest. _How long doth it last?_ _Answ_. For Ever and Ever. Quest. _Is it not a sad thing to lie under the Wrath of God for ever? to lie in devouring Flames for Ever?_ _Answ._ YES. Quest. _Can you deliver your self from Hell?_ _Answ._ NO. Quest. _How must you be delivered._ _Answ._ Only by Jesus Christ? Quest. _Who is Jesus Christ?_ _Answ_. The Son of God. Quest. _Is he not Man also?_ _Answ._ YES. He was always God, and in the Fullness of time became Man, and so he is both God and Man, in two Natures, and one Person for ever. Quest. _What hath Christ done for Sinners?_ _Answ._ He hath died for them. Quest. _What Death did he die?_ _Answ._ The Death of the Cross. Quest. _Why died he that Death?_ _Answ._ Because it is written, _Cursed is he that hangeth upon a Tree_. Quest. _Did Christ bear the Curse of God that was due to Sinners?_ _Answ._ YES. Quest. _Are all the World saved by him?_ _Answ._ NO. Quest. _Why so?_ _Answ._ Because he is not theirs. Quest. _What must we do, that Christ may be ours?_ _Answ._ Believe on him. Quest. _What is it to Believe on him?_ _Answ._ To rest upon Him for Salvation. Quest. _What grounds of Encouragement have we to rest upon Christ for Salvation?_ _Answ._ These six: 1. He is an only Saviour. 2. He is an able Saviour. 3. He is a willing Saviour. 4. He is a faithful Saviour. 5. He is a suitable Saviour. 6. He is an offered Saviour. Quest. _When is Christ offered?_ _Answ._ In the Gospel. Quest. _Name some Places?_ _Answ._ John 3. 16. _God so loved the World, that he gave his only begotten Son; that whosoever believeth in Him should not perish, but have Everlasting Life._ John 6. 37. _Him that comes unto me, I will in no wise cast out._ I Tim. 1. 15. _This is a faithful saying, and worthy of all acceptation, that_ Jesus Christ _came into the World to save sinners._ Quest. _Multitudes are called and invited, why do they not come to Christ?_ _Answ._ Because they are not Humble. Quest. _Why are they not Humble?_ _Answ._ Because they do not see their sins and sinfulness. Quest. _What must we do that we may see our sins and our sinfulnesses?_ _Answ._ 1. We must search the Scriptures. 2. We must hear the Word of God Preached. 3. We must Examine our Consciences. 4. We must Pray to God for his Spirit. Quest. _If a poor Creature comes to Christ, crying, lamenting and confessing his sins, will Christ receive him?_ _Answ._ YES, YES: His mercifull Arms are spread wide open to receive him. Quest. _What will the Lord do for such a one that comes to him?_ _Answ._ 1. He will Pardon all their sins. 2. He will give them Grace. 3. He will give them Peace. 4. He will Comfort them. 5. He will provide for them. 6. He will take their parts. 7. He will bring them to Heaven. Quest. _What is Heaven?_ _Answ._ An everlasting Enjoyment of God in glory. Quest. _When the Lord has done this for a poor Creature, what must he do for this good God of his?_ _Answ._ He must be Humble and Thankful. Quest. _How must he shew himself Humble and Thankful?_ _Answ._ He must love the Lord with all his Heart, with all his Soul, and serve the Lord with all his strength, and he must love his Neighbour as himself, and for the Lords sake; and this he must do all the dayes of his Life. _VERSES,_ _For little Children to Learn_. I Must Pray Both Night and Day. Before I Eat, I must entreat That God would Bless to me my Meat. I must not play On the Sabbath-day: But I must hear God's Word in Fear. I must not SWEAR. I must not Lye, I must not Feign, I must not take God's Name in vain. I must not Rail. I must not Steal. It is a Sin To steal a Pin, Much more to steal a greater thing. It's better for me to be poor, And beg my Bread from door to door, Than to steal my Neighbour's Store. I must Work, and I must Pray, And God will feed me day by day, Mine honest Labours God will Bless, But he hateth Idleness. My King, and all my Governors, My Parents and Superiors, These I must Honour and Obey, To these I must my Duty pay. I must not be Rude nor Wild, I must not be a Wanton Child: I must sing no wanton Songs, I must forgive my Neighbours wrongs: I must speak of no Man ill, But to all must bear good will: I had better die Than tell a Lie. I must not sin, A World to win. My Tongue Must do no wrong. If my Tongue do here Rebel, Then my Tongue must burn in Hell. I must Read, I must heed, And on the Scriptures I must feed. I must Put my Trust In Christ above, The God of Love. Christ alone my Soul can save, And raise my Body from the Grave. Christ alone must have my Heart, Christ and I must never part. Lord, Grant that I In Faith may dye, And live with Christ Eternally! _AMEN._ * * * * * _SAYINGS,_ _For little Children to Learn._ Remember thy Creator in the dayes of thy Youth; and thy Creator will remember thee in the dayes of thy Old Age. Praying Is better than Playing. Grace is better than Gold. Singing of Psalms Is better than Ringing of Bells. Mothers love young Children, And Christ loves young Saints. It is better not to live in the World, Than to live without God in the World. One day in God's Courts, Is better than a thousand elsewhere. God's Presence makes Heaven, and God's Absence makes Hell. If I draw nigh to God, God will draw nigh to me. In God's Favour is Life, and In God's displeasure is Death. If I put off my Repentance to another day, I have a day more to Repent of, And a day, less to Repent in. Christ is a poor Sinners Hope. Christ's Blood is a Souls Ransom. To have a Portion in the World is a Mercy, But to have the World for a Portion is Misery. An Interest in Christ is the greatest Interest. The Love of God is sweeter than Wine, And better than Life. God's Ways are the best Ways, God's Peace is the best Peace, and God's People are the best People. The worst of the ways of GOD, are better than the best of the ways of Sin. 'Tis better to suffer the greatest Suffering in the World, Than to sin the least Sin in the World. A poor Man is better than a Liar. Without Holiness no Man shall see the Lord. IF I BE NOT Holy, Heaven cannot make me Happy. I must do the Lords-Work On the Lords-Day. If I want a Dram of Grace to Tame my Tongue, The time will come when I shall want a drop of Water to Cool my TONGUE. _FINIS._ 
13652	----	Proofreading Team EXPOSITION OF THE APOSTLES' CREED By THE REV. JAMES DODDS, D.D. * * * * * Though I am an old Doctor of Divinity, to this day I have not got beyond the children's learning--the Ten Commandments, the Belief, and the Lord's Prayer; and these I understand not so well as I should, though I study them daily, praying with my son John and my daughter Magdalen.--LUTHER'S _Table-Talk_. * * * * * CONTENTS EDITORIAL NOTE PREFATORY NOTE INTRODUCTION ARTICLE 1 I BELIEVE IN GOD THE FATHER ALMIGHTY, MAKER OF HEAVEN AND EARTH SECTION 1. I BELIEVE 2. GOD 3. THE FATHER 4. ALMIGHTY 5. MAKER OF HEAVEN AND EARTH 2 AND IN JESUS CHRIST HIS ONLY SON OUR LORD SECTION 1. AND IN JESUS CHRIST 2. JESUS 3. CHRIST 4. HIS ONLY SON 5. OUR LORD 3 WHO WAS CONCEIVED BY THE HOLY GHOST, BORN OF THE VIRGIN MARY 4 SUFFERED UNDER PONTIUS PILATE, WAS CRUCIFIED, DEAD, AND BURIED SECTION 1. SUFFERED UNDER PONTIUS PILATE 2. WAS CRUCIFIED 3. DEAD 4. AND BURIED 5 HE DESCENDED INTO HELL, THE THIRD DAY HE ROSE AGAIN FROM THE DEAD SECTION 1. HE DESCENDED INTO HELL 2. THE THIRD DAY HE ROSE AGAIN FROM THE DEAD 6 HE ASCENDED INTO HEAVEN AND SITTETH ON THE RIGHT HAND OF GOD THE FATHER ALMIGHTY 7 FROM THENCE HE SHALL COME TO JUDGE THE QUICK AND THE DEAD 8 I BELIEVE IN THE HOLY GHOST 9 THE HOLY CATHOLIC CHURCH, THE COMMUNION OF SAINTS SECTION 1. THE HOLY CATHOLIC CHURCH 2. THE COMMUNION OF SAINTS 10 THE FORGIVENESS OF SINS 11 THE RESURRECTION OF THE BODY 12 AND THE LIFE EVERLASTING * * * * * APPENDIX FOOTNOTES SOME BOOKS ON THE APOSTLES' CREED OR BEARING UPON ARTICLES THEREOF * * * * * EDITORIAL NOTE Dr. Dodds' _Exposition of the Apostles' Creed_ will supply a real need. It contains a careful, well-informed, and well-balanced statement of the doctrines of the Church which are expressed or indicated in the Creed, and it will be helpful to many as arranging the passages of Scripture on which these doctrines rest. Though historical references could have been easily made, the Editors agree with the author in thinking that to insert them in the discussion of doctrines would have probably perplexed the readers for whom the book is designed. _February_ 1896. * * * * * PREFATORY NOTE The title and purpose of this Handbook limit its subject matter to an exposition of the doctrines which have place in the summary of belief termed the Apostles' Creed. It is not meant to cover the whole field of Christian doctrine. A history of the Creed has not been attempted. There is much that is interesting in its origin and growth. It did not come into existence all at once, but was built up from time to time by the insertion of clauses formulated by Councils or by leading representatives of the Christian Church. The space available is not sufficient to include a history. The Handbook being not controversial but expository, references to the heretics and heresies that gave occasion for the articles which have place in the Creed are few and brief. JAMES DODDS. * * * * * THE APOSTLES' CREED INTRODUCTION While the disciples had Jesus with them, there was no occasion for a formal summary of the doctrines which His followers were called to accept and to maintain. He was present to resolve all doubts and settle all difficulties, so that when their faith was assailed or their teaching impugned they could refer to Him. Then, as now, faith had Him for its object,--with this difference, that He was visibly at hand to counsel and to direct, while now He is passed into the heavens and guides His people into all truth, not by personal instruction but by His invisible though ever present Spirit. Another reason why Jesus gave His disciples no creed may be found in the fact that His work was not finished until He had laid down His life, and that no creed could have been satisfactory which did not cover those great unfulfilled events in His history that lie at the foundation of the Christian religion. Jesus did indeed require belief in Himself as a condition on which healing and salvation were bestowed. Unbelief hindered His work, while faith in His Messianic claims and mission never failed to secure a rich blessing to those who confessed Him. The faith which He recognised was not the acceptance and confession of a summary of doctrine such as any of the Creeds now existing, but a simple statement of belief in Himself as the Son of God and the Messiah. On one occasion only does He appear to have called for a confession which went further than this, when, having declared to Martha the great doctrine of Resurrection, He put to her the question, "Believest thou this?"[001] After His death and resurrection, when Jesus charged His disciples to preach the Gospel, He bade them teach their followers to observe all things whatsoever He had commanded them.[002] The Apostles, accordingly, appear to have furnished the leaders of the churches they planted with summaries of doctrine, such as we find in the fifteenth chapter of Paul's first Epistle to the Corinthians.[003] Paul seems to refer to such a summary when he writes to the Romans commending them for obedience to the "form of doctrine" which was delivered them,[004] and when he bestows his benediction on those Galatians who walked according to "this rule."[005] It was, doubtless, such a compendium of doctrine he had in view when he charged Timothy to "keep that which was committed to his trust," contrasting this "deposit" with "profane and vain babblings, and oppositions of science falsely so called."[006] The bearing of this charge is made more emphatic when it is repeated by the Apostle in connection with the exhortation, "Hold fast the form of sound words, which thou hast heard of me, in faith and love which is in Christ Jesus."[007] It would thus appear that from Apostolic times there existed a form of words of the character of a creed, which, for some reason, came to be jealously guarded and concealed from all who were not Christians. It was perhaps Paul's reference to the summary of doctrine as a "deposit" to be carefully kept, that led the early converts to regard it as a private possession--a trust to be hidden in the heart and covered from unfriendly eyes. The Apostle did not mean that it should be so regarded, but this interpretation given to his words, or some other cause, led to its being used as a watchword rather than as an open confession, the consequence of which is that in the writings of the earliest Christian fathers no statement of doctrines corresponding to a creed is found. The absence of creeds or of allusions to them in the oldest Christian treatises gives seeming point to the objection urged by Professor Harnack and others against the Apostles' Creed as now held and interpreted by the Church, that it is not a correct summary of early Christian belief. That such objections are not well founded will become apparent as the various articles of the Creed are considered in the light of Apostolic teaching. The absence of creeds in early Christian writings is sufficiently accounted for by the care with which the summary was cherished as a secret trust, to be treasured in the memory but not to be written or otherwise profaned by publicity. The word "creed"--derived from the Latin "_credo_, I believe"--is, in its ecclesiastical sense, used to denote a summary or concise statement of doctrines formulated and accepted by a church. Although usually connected with religious belief, it has a wider meaning, and designates the principles which an individual or an associated body so holds that they become the springs and guides of conduct. Some sects of Christians reject formal creeds and profess to find the Scriptures sufficient for all purposes that creeds are meant to serve. The Christian religion rests on Christ, and the final appeal on any question of doctrine must be to the Scriptures which testify of Him: but it is found that very different conclusions are often reached by those who profess to ground their beliefs upon the same passages of the Word of God. Almost every heresy that has disturbed the unity of the Church has been advocated by men who appealed to Scripture in confirmation of the doctrines they taught. The true teaching of the Word of God is gathered from careful and continuous searching of the Scriptures, and there is danger of fatal error when conclusions are drawn from isolated passages interpreted in accordance with preconceived opinions. It has been found not only expedient but needful that the Christian Churches should set forth in creeds and confessions the doctrines which they believe the Scriptures affirm. They are bound not only to accept Scripture as the rule of faith, but to make known the sense in which they understand it. As unlearned and unstable men wrest and subvert the Sacred Writings, it is fitting that those who are learned and not unstable should publish sound expositions of their contents. In the light of creeds, converts are enabled to test their own position, and to put to proof the claims of those who profess to be teachers of Christian doctrine. One of the most widely accepted of these forms is the Apostles' Creed, so called, not because it was drawn up by, or in the time of, the Apostles--although there is a tradition to the effect that each of them contributed a clause--but because it is in accordance with the sum of Apostolic teaching. The history of this Creed is not easily traced. The care with which it was guarded excluded it from the writings of the early fathers, and it is impossible, therefore, to assign to their proper dates, with certainty, some of the articles of which it is composed. This, however, is evident, that it came gradually into existence, clauses being added from time to time to guard the faithful against false doctrine, or to enable them to defend the orthodox belief. It appears to have been the general creed of the Christian Church, in a form very similar to that which it now bears, from the close of the second century.[008] At that time and afterwards it served not only as a test of Christian doctrine, but was also used by catechists in training and instructing candidates for admission to the Church. It is sometimes urged as an objection to this Creed that it is not a sufficiently comprehensive summary of Christian doctrine. Those who object to it on this ground should consider the purpose of creeds. They were not meant to cover the whole field of Christian faith, but to fortify believers against the teaching of heretics. The Apostles' Creed was not intended, and does not profess, to state all the things that Christians ought to believe. There is no reference in it to Scripture, to Inspiration, to Prayer, or to the Sacraments. It sets forth in a few words, distinct and easily remembered, the existence and relations to men of the three Persons of the Godhead--those facts and truths on which all doctrine and duty rest, and from which they find development. It is especially objected that there is no reference in this Creed to the atoning work of the Lord Jesus Christ. But, though not directly expressed, this doctrine is really and substantially contained in it. The Creed is the confession of those whose bond of union is common faith in the Lord Jesus Christ as their Saviour. The articles which treat of Him and of His sufferings and work are intelligible only to those who believe in the reality and efficacy of the Atonement. The Creed contains twelve articles, and to each of these, and to every part of it, the words "I believe" belong. One article relates to God the Father, six to God the Son, one to God the Holy Ghost, and four to the Holy Catholic Church and the privileges secured to its members. These articles are-- 1. I believe in God the Father Almighty, Maker of heaven and earth. 2. And in Jesus Christ His only Son our Lord, 3. Who was conceived by the Holy Ghost, born of the Virgin Mary, 4. Suffered under Pontius Pilate, was crucified, dead, and buried, 5. He descended into hell; the third day He rose again from the dead, 6. He ascended into heaven, and sitteth on the right hand of God the Father Almighty; 7. From thence He shall come to judge the quick and the dead. 8. I believe in the Holy Ghost, 9. The Holy Catholic Church; the Communion of saints; 10. The Forgiveness of sins; 11. The Resurrection of the body, 12. And the Life Everlasting. In estimating the value of creeds in the early ages of the Christian Church, it is important to bear in mind that the converts were almost wholly dependent on oral instruction for their knowledge of Divine truth. Copies of the Old and New Testaments existed in manuscript only. These were few in number, and the cost of production placed them beyond the reach of the great majority. A single copy served for a community or a district in which the Hebrew or the Greek tongue was understood, but in localities where other languages were in use the living voice was needed to make revelation known. It is only since the invention of printing and the application of the steam-engine to the economical and rapid production of books, and since modern linguists have multiplied the translations of the Bible, that it has become in their own tongues accessible to believers in all lands, available for private perusal and family reading. It was therefore a necessity that Christians should possess "a form of sound words," comprehensive enough to embody the leading doctrines of Christianity, yet brief enough to be easily committed to memory. * * * * * ARTICLE 1 _1. I believe in God the Father Almighty, Maker of heaven and earth_ SECTION 1.--I BELIEVE The Creed is the expression of personal belief. Whether spoken in private or in a public assembly, it is the confession of the faith held by each individual for himself. Each of us has a separate life, and each of us must personally accept God's message and express his own belief. Religion must influence men as units before it can benefit them in masses. Faith that saves is a gift of God which every one must receive for himself. The faith of one is of no avail for another, therefore the Creed begins with the affirmation "_I_ believe." In repeating it we profess our own faith in what God has revealed concerning Himself. "I _believe_."--The Apostles' Creed is a declaration of things which are most surely believed among us, and its several parts or articles are founded upon the contents of Scripture, which is our one rule of faith. It does not begin with the words _I think_ or _I know_, but with the statement "I believe." "Belief" is used in various senses, but here it means the assent of the mind and heart to the doctrines expressed in the Creed. When we repeat the form we declare that we accept and adopt all the statements which it covers. "With the heart man believeth unto righteousness; and with the mouth confession is made."[009] Faith differs from knowledge. There are some things which we know to be true, and there are others of which we say we believe them to be true. There are certain truths which are termed axiomatic. When the terms in which they are expressed are understood, the truth they convey is at once admitted. We know that two and two make four, we know that two straight lines cannot enclose a space; but we do not know in the same sense those things which the Creed affirms. It deals with statements that, for the most part, have never been, and cannot be, tested by sense, and that cannot be demonstrated by such proof as will compel us to accept them. We believe them, not because it is impossible to withhold our assent, nor only because nature, history, and conscience confirm them, but on the ground of testimony. "Faith cometh by hearing, and hearing by the Word of God."[010] We believe because we are assured on sufficient and competent authority that these things are so. We know that we live in a material universe, but our knowledge does not extend to the manner in which the universe came into being. That is a matter of belief. "Through faith"--not by ocular or logical proof, but on testimony--"we understand that the worlds were framed by the Word of God."[011] Faith differs from opinion. When a man believes his mind is made up. By whatever process it may have been reached, the conclusion commends itself as one that is fixed and irreversible. Opinion, on the other hand, is held loosely. It is based not on certainty but on probability. The possibility of error is recognised, and the opinion is readily surrendered when the grounds on which it was formed are seen to be insufficient or misleading. "A man," says Coleridge, "having seen a million moss roses all red, concludes from his own experience and that of others that all moss roses are red. That is a maxim with him--the _greatest_ amount of his knowledge upon the subject. But it is only true until some gardener has produced a white moss rose,--after which the maxim is good for nothing."[012] The testimony on which faith rests is human or Divine. It is human in so far as it is based on human experience and observation. It is Divine in so far as it rests upon the direct revelation of God. Faith in man is continually exercised in business and in all the departments of life. It is necessary to the very existence of society. Faith in God moves in another sphere. Its objects are not seen or temporal, and they do not rest for proof upon the testimony of man. It receives and assents to statements which are made on the authority of God, who knows all things, who therefore cannot be deceived, and who is truth and therefore cannot deceive us. On this Divine rock of faith, and not upon her own knowledge, the Christian Church rests. "If we receive the witness of men, the witness of God is greater."[013] Among Christian virtues faith stands first. It must precede everything else. It is the foundation on which all Christian character and life are built. "He that cometh unto God must believe that he is."[014] "Without faith it is impossible to please God."[015] That which Christian faith realises and grasps is expressed in doctrine. Faith is not a separate and self-dependent grace. Its existence and growth arise from those things which are believed, and therefore it is necessary to study and understand, as far as we can, the doctrines of the Christian faith before we can possess or manifest belief. It is important that we should have a definite knowledge of these doctrines; that we should study them in relation to the Scriptures upon which they profess to be founded, and that we should be in a position to defend them against assailants. Thus faith will gather strength, and believers will be "ready always to give an answer to every man that asketh them a reason of the hope that is in them with meekness and fear."[016] SECTION 2.--GOD--[017] The existence of God is the basis of all religious belief. If there is no God, there is no moral obligation. If there is no Almighty Being to whom men owe existence, and to whom they must give account, worship is a vain show and systems of religion are meaningless. Theologians, therefore, from the days of the first Christian apologists to our own time, have endeavoured to establish by proof the doctrine of the Divine existence. To those who accept the authority of Scripture the existence of God is a fact which no argument can overthrow; but as there are many who reject this authority, evidence has been sought elsewhere than in Scripture to establish the doctrine. The arguments for the Being of God are mainly threefold, being drawn: (_a_) from the consciousness of mankind; (_b_) from the order and design that are manifest in the universe; and (_c_) from the written revelation which claims to have come to men from God Himself. (_a_) (_Consciousness_) There is a wonderful agreement among men as to the existence of a great invisible Being by whom the world was created and is governed, and who charges Himself with the control and guidance of its inhabitants and concerns. In a land such as our own, in which Christianity has held place for many centuries, belief in God, however it may fail to produce holy living, is almost universal. This belief exercises a strong influence, and has contributed not a little to the formation of our national character. It is an atmosphere always around us, sustaining and promoting the healthy life of those even who are the least conscious of being affected by it. The belief is indelibly impressed upon our laws, our literature, and even our everyday occupations. It is stamped upon the relations men sustain to one another. It is this which for one day weekly suspends labour that Christians may have leisure to worship God and to meditate upon the duties they owe to Him. It is in recognition of this that we see tall spires pointing heavenward, and churches opening their portals to the inhabitants of crowded cities and to the dwellers in scattered villages. In Christian lands the consciousness of men bears testimony to the existence of God, but it is not in such lands only that this consciousness exists and confirms belief in the Divine. In the earliest times, long before history began to be written, such a consciousness was prevalent, leading men to faith in and worship of a Being or Beings infinitely greater than themselves, present with them and presiding, though invisibly, over their destinies. The study of Comparative Religion has shown how nearly the primeval inhabitants of lands widely distant from each other were at one in the views they had come to entertain. Hymns, prayers, precepts, and traditions are found in the sacred books of the great religions of the East, and archaeologists have deciphered on ancient monuments, and traced in primitive religious rites, clear evidence of belief in the existence of the Divine. The valleys of the Nile, of the Euphrates, and of the Tigris have revealed facts for the theologian's benefit that are almost exhaustless. In the Egyptian Book of the Dead, and in the religious hymns and the ritual of which they formed part in the sacred literature of Babylonia, there is proof that four thousand years ago hymns were sung in honour of the gods, and prayers were offered to propitiate them and secure their favour. But belief in God had place long before these hymns were sung or these prayers offered. This is shown by the existence of words in the most ancient hymns, prayers, and inscriptions which could not have been used unless the ideas which they conveyed had already existed in men's minds. These words--some of which are preserved in modern tongues--when traced to their roots, help greatly to explain the character of early religious thought, and prove the existence of a widely diffused belief in the Divine Being and His government. They serve as confirmation of a belief, which is in harmony with many facts, that God had revealed Himself to humanity before He furnished the revelation which has come down to us. Words are not originated by accident. They are expressions of real existences, and before they found place in hymns or prayers the ideas which they denoted must have been matters of faith or knowledge to those who used them. Before man is found professing faith in pagan deities some idea of God must have existed in his mind. Men did not like to retain God in their knowledge, and so the idea of the Divine became perverted, and in its first simplicity was lost, and the multitude followed numberless shadows all illusory and vain. Still, there lingered remnants and traditions of belief in a Divine Creator and Governor which must have originated in such a primeval revelation as the book of Genesis records. We find there the statement that God revealed Himself to our first parents by direct intercourse. They heard and saw and talked with God. They therefore knew of the existence of God by personal perception, and the ideas they held regarding Him were founded on His own manifestation of Himself. Closely connected with this consciousness is the sense of responsibility universally prevalent. There is a law written on the heart of every rational human being, under the guidance of which he recognises a distinction between good and evil, right and wrong. He possesses a faculty to which the name of conscience has been given, that convicts him of sin when he violates, and approves his conduct when he conforms to, its dictates. However much different peoples and different ages may be at variance in their particular ideas of what is right and what is wrong, the conception itself has place in all of them. There are certain fundamental notions as to what is just and what is unjust, what is virtuous and what is vicious, that find universal or all but universal acceptance. This power of distinguishing between right and wrong constitutes man a moral being, and separates him by infinite distance from the lower animals. To the beasts that perish there is nothing right or wrong. They live altogether according to nature, and have no responsibility. Man stands in a different relation to the Lawgiver who bestowed on him the faculty of conscience and impressed on his soul a conviction that he will have to give account for all his actions. The Being to whom he must give account is God. (_b_) (_Order_) Another ground of this belief is the order manifest in the universe. There is a symmetry that pervades all material things of which we have knowledge. Part is adapted to part; objects are accurately adjusted to each other; "wheels within wheels" move smoothly; every portion fits into and works in harmony with every other portion without discord or jarring. It is unthinkable that these effects should be due to chance or to a cause that is without intelligence. The perfect arrangement of parts that work together must have been planned by a living Being of infinite wisdom, knowledge, and power. This Being, whose creatures they are, must exist. Behind the pervading order there must be personality, purpose, and action. The fool may say in his heart, "There is no God," but, as nature bears testimony to the existence of an omniscient and omnipotent Creator, reason calls for another conclusion. (_c_) (_Scripture_) There is a limit to the knowledge of God which the consciousness of man and the order and design in the universe impart. These serve to establish the truth that God is, but they do not convey the intimation that He is a moral Governor and the rewarder of them that diligently seek Him. They declare little of His character, and are silent as to many of the duties which He requires. To make God known, the teaching of conscience and of reason must be supplemented by revelation. It is in the Bible that the believer finds the strongest proofs of the existence of the Divine Being, and from the Bible he obtains also the most comprehensive and satisfying view of the Deity and of man's relation to Him. He there finds that what he has to believe concerning God is, that He is Jehovah--the Being infinitely and eternally perfect, self-existent, and self-sufficient; the only living and true God, there being none beside Him. The heathen believed in and worshipped many gods. The untutored savage peopled the groves with them, and the pagan philosopher built innumerable temples in their honour. The Pantheons of Greece and Rome were crowded with the statues of favourite deities. The doctrine of one living and true God was prominent in the revelation given to Israel. God's message by Moses had its foundation--truth in the proclamation: "Hear, O Israel, the Lord our God is one Lord."[018] His glory and His work are shared by no other being. He is the absolute Sovereign and Lord of all creatures. In the Bible, too, man learns that God is his own personal God who cares for him, and to whom he owes love, allegiance, and obedience. All who refuse to believe in the existence of God reject the testimony of Scripture regarding Him, but to such as acknowledge its claim to be the Word of God, the evidence it supplies is convincing and all-sufficient. Examination of ancient heathen religions and of the views they set forth regarding God shows clearly the distance at which they stand from the revelation of Scripture. The gods of the heathen were of like passions with their worshippers--selfish, cruel, vindictive, and without regard for equity or justice in their treatment of men. The God of the Bible, on the other hand, is a righteous God, merciful to His creatures, and desirous of their temporal and eternal wellbeing, and when He inflicts suffering it is not as a passionate Judge, but as a Father who chastens His children for their profit. The doctrine of the Trinity of Persons in the God-head, though not expressly stared in the Creed, is implied in the clauses which refer to each of the Persons who compose it. There is one God, but in the Godhead there are three Persons, the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost, whose names indicate the relation in which each stands to the others. Each of the Persons is complete and perfect God. While there are three Persons in the Godhead, the same in substance, equal in power and glory, these three are one. The doctrine thus stated is termed the doctrine of the Trinity. This word is not found in Scripture, but the truth which it expresses is set forth there, dimly in the Old Testament, distinctly in the New. In the first chapter of Genesis the word "God" is in the Hebrew a plural noun, and yet it is used with a singular verb, thus early seeming to intimate what afterwards is clearly made known, that there is a plurality of Persons, who yet constitute the one living and true God. The same indication of plurality in unity appears in the account of man's creation: "Let _us_ make man."[019] This doctrine of the Trinity is essentially one of revelation. Natural religion testifies to the existence, the personality, and the unity of God, but fails to make known that the unity of God is a unity of three Persons. The doctrine does not contradict reason, it is above reason. It is sometimes said that the doctrine of the Trinity involves a contradiction in affirming that three Persons are one Person. This charge misrepresents the doctrine. Trinitarians do not say that Father, Son, and Holy Ghost are three Persons in the sense in which three men are three individuals. They believe that there is one God, and that Father, Son, and Holy Ghost are yet so distinct that the Father can address the Son, the Son can address the Father, and the Father can address and send the Spirit. God's ways are not as our ways. He is not a man that He should be limited by the conditions of human relationships. When we say there are three Persons in the Godhead, we use a word applicable to men, which, though the most fitting one at our disposal, must come far short of fully describing the relations of Father, Son, and Holy Ghost to each other. Possessing no celestial language, we cannot fully describe or understand heavenly things. SECTION 3.--THE FATHER The first Person in the Godhead is the Father. This name may be viewed (_a_) with reference to the second Person, Jesus Christ His only Son, or (_b_) as descriptive of His relation to believers in Christ Jesus, or (_c_) as indicating His universal Fatherhood as the Author and the Preserver of all intelligent creatures. The relation in which the Father stands to the Son, that He is His Father and has begotten Him, is one that we cannot explain. Any attempt to do so must be arrogant and misleading, for who "by searching can find out God"?[020] Secret things belong unto God, but revealed things unto us and our children.[021] The term "Father" is a relative one and involves the idea of sonship. No one who accepts the teaching of Scripture can doubt that the Father is God. The statements as to His attributes and universal government are so many and so strong that, but for other affirmations regarding Deity, we should naturally conclude that the Father alone is God. But the very name "Father" corrects such a view, and when we search the Scriptures we find it untenable. God is our Father, but He was "the Father" before He called man into being. From all eternity He was Father. As from everlasting to everlasting He is God, so from everlasting to everlasting He is Father. He did not become Father when His Son assumed human nature, but is such in virtue of His eternal relation to the Word as the Son of God. It is the Son's existence that constitutes Him Father; and that existence was in eternity. "I and my Father are one,"[022] is the Son's testimony to His eternal Sonship; and when He prays His Father to glorify Him, He asks to be glorified with the glory which He had with Him before the world was.[023] There are other senses in which the first Person of the Godhead is termed Father. All men are declared to be His offspring, and those who have received the Spirit of adoption cry, "Abba, Father," and are taught, when they pray, to say, "Our Father." In an exposition of the Creed the Fatherhood in relation to men generally, or to believers in particular, need not be considered. Here the name is used to indicate the relation in which the First Person stands to the Second, in virtue of which alone those who are adopted into fellowship with the Son become the children of God--the children of Christ's Father and their Father. The Scriptures teach that the Father is God, that the Son is God, and that the Holy Ghost is God. At the same time the doctrine of the Divine Unity is affirmed. The difficulty felt in connection with the doctrine of Trinity in Unity has led to attempts in ancient and modern times to show that those passages of Scripture in which it appears to be taught may be otherwise interpreted. One explanation is, from the name of its first exponent, termed Sabellianism, or, the doctrine of a Modal Trinity. The view which it presents of the Divine Being is that the same Person manifests Himself at one time and in one relation as Father, at another time and in another relation as Son, and at a different time and in another relation as Holy Ghost. It attributes divinity to this One Divine Person in each of His manifestations, but denies that there are three Persons in the Godhead. The facts of Scripture do not accord with such a view of the Divine Personality. We find each Person addressing the Others and speaking of Himself and of Them as distinct Persons. Each speaking of Himself says "I." The Father says "Thou" to the Son, the Son says "Thou" to the Father, and the Father and the Son use the pronouns "He" and "Him" with reference to the Spirit. The Father loves the Son, the Son loves the Father, the Spirit testifies of the Son.[024] In the Athanasian Creed we find the following statement of this doctrine:-- "This is the Catholic Faith, that we worship one God in Trinity, and Trinity in Unity. Neither confounding the Persons nor dividing the Substance. For the Person of the Father is one, of the Son another, of the Holy Ghost another. But the divinity of the Father and the Son and of the Holy Ghost is one, the glory equal, the majesty equal. Such as is the Father, such also is the Son, and such the Holy Spirit. The Father is uncreated, the Son is uncreated, the Holy Spirit is uncreated. The Father is infinite, the Son is infinite, the Holy Ghost is infinite. The Father is eternal, the Son is eternal, the Holy Ghost is eternal. And yet these are not three eternal Beings but one eternal Being. As also there are not three uncreated beings, nor three infinite beings, but one uncreated and one infinite Being." It is sometimes said that the doctrine of the Trinity is of little practical importance, but such a view of it is inconsistent with the teaching of Scripture, and with the atoning work of Christ. It is the Divinity of the Son that gives efficacy to His sacrifice. As sinners we need pardon. Pardon must be preceded by propitiation, and if Christ is not Divine there is no propitiation. The doctrines of Scripture are so linked together that the rejection of one invalidates the others. If we deny the Trinity we deny the Gospel message of salvation, and we accordingly find that most of those who reject the doctrine of the Trinity do not believe in the reality and efficacy of Christ's atonement. SECTION 4.--ALMIGHTY The term "Almighty," which occurs twice in the Creed, represents two Greek words, the one denoting absolute dominion, the other infinite power in operation. When we say that God the Father is Almighty, we affirm that He is possessed of entire freedom of action, and that His power is unlimited. He cannot, indeed, act in opposition to His own nature. In executing His eternal decrees none can stay His hand from working, but He can do nothing that would derogate from His eternal power and Godhead. Such inability has its origin not in any limitation of power, or restriction imposed from without, but in Himself. He knows all things and so cannot be tempted of evil. He can do whatever He wills, but His will cannot contradict His character. The statement that God is Almighty implies that all beings are governed and controlled by Him. All things, save Himself, are His creatures and subject to Him. Even those things that seem to resist and defy His authority are under His government. Rebellion serves but to make His omnipotence more apparent, for He causeth the wrath of man to praise Him, and the remainder of wrath He restraineth.[025] He so governs the universe that all things work together, and work together for good to them that love Him.[026] When we say, "God the Father Almighty," it is not meant that the Son and the Holy Ghost are not Almighty. The Father is Almighty because He is God, the Son, who is one with the Father, is God and therefore Almighty, and the Holy Ghost is also God and therefore Almighty. In the unity of the Godhead the same attributes mark the three Persons. SECTION 5.--MAKER OF HEAVEN AND EARTH Belief in the Almighty power of God is further declared by a confession of faith in Him as the Maker of heaven and earth, and this is but a repetition of the statement contained in the first chapter of Genesis--the only account of Creation which is fitted to solve all difficulties and to meet all objections. "Maker" in this article is used in the sense of Creator, implying that heaven and earth were called into existence out of nothing by the word of Divine power; and by "heaven and earth" are meant all creatures, visible and invisible, that have existed or do exist. Those who object to the Scripture statements regarding Creation have maintained views as to the origin of the material universe differing largely from those held by persons who accept this article of the Creed, and differing also greatly from one another. Various solutions have been given, among which may be stated:-- (_a_) The view of those who hold that all phenomena and all existence originate in Chance or a blind fortuitous concourse of atoms. To state such a doctrine is to refute it. No one possessed of reason can believe in his heart that Intelligence did not create and organise matter, or that the material universe, with all its adaptation of parts, was evolved, and is governed, by chance or accident. This theory, if it is worthy of the name, seems to have been devised in order to evade the idea that man is subject to Divine government. (_b_) Another view is that all existence owes its origin to Fate or Necessity and is now held in its resistless grasp. The advocates of this theory are at variance among themselves. One school maintains that all things existed from eternity in their present condition, and are destined to continue as they are, controlled by relentless and undeviating necessity. Another school--the ancient Fatalists--held that at first there was a fortuitous concourse of atoms and phenomena, until Fate or Chance decided the present order, which became an established necessity. A third class hold doctrines of Development. Some of them agree with the ancient Fatalists in maintaining that development, in a fortuitous concourse and action of matter and force, issued in evolution or originated a course of evolution. Others again deny fortuitous concourse and affirm that this process of evolution had no external beginning, but has continued from eternity under the control of evolutionary law. The term "law" as used by them has no specific meaning, and is simply an adaptation, to a theory naturally atheistic, of a word which may serve to commend their doctrine. The "law" of which they speak has its origin in matter itself, and is not under the control of a Supreme Intelligence. That this is the fact is shown by the denial of free-will in man and of the superintending providence of God; of the efficacy of prayer and of the forgiveness of sin; and by the prominence given in their writings to the absolute control of all things by undeviating, unchanging law. (_c_) A third view affirms that while there is a distinction between the Ego and the non-Ego (the me and the not-me), it is impossible to know anything about either in its essence. That they exist and that they are different are facts within our knowledge, but as to the absolute nature of mind and matter we can discover and believe nothing. The ultimate or absolute is beyond our reach, as is the infinite and unconditioned. We can have no knowledge of First Causes, or of the Ultimate Cause, or of the Absolute Cause. The infinite cannot even be apprehended, and those who undertake to learn or to speculate regarding the infinite engage in a task beyond their powers. Such knowledge is not practical. The term "God" is merely an expression for a mode of the unknowable, conveying no meaning to those who use it. The view thus expressed originated in concessions unhappily made by certain writers, as Sir William Hamilton and Dean Mansel, who, thinking to defend revealed religion, taught that reason cannot know the Infinite, and that therefore the Infinite must reveal Himself. Herbert Spencer took advantage of this concession, and carried it to a logical conclusion, when he argued that, if reason could not know or apprehend the Infinite by reason, neither could it by revelation. (_d_) Another class hold the view which is termed cosmogonies than that of Moses, whether contained in the sacred books of religions that have long existed, or professing to be based on modern scientific discovery, raise difficulties that are insuperable. Whence came matter if not from the creative word of God? To assign eternity to it is to invest it with an attribute that is Divine, and Pantheists carry such an explanation to its logical conclusion when they affirm that the universe is God. The existence of a single atom is an unfathomable mystery. Man cannot create or destroy even a particle of matter. How overwhelming, then, if we reject the simple statement of the Bible, is the mystery of the great universe, in whose extended space suns, planets, stars, and systems unceasingly revolve, and in which our own world is but a little speck. All things created point to God as their origin and source. "The invisible things of him from the creation of the world are clearly seen, being understood by the things that are made, even his eternal power and Godhead."[027] "I asked the earth," wrote Augustine in his _Confessions_, "and it answered me, 'I am not He.' And whatsoever things are in it confirmed the same. I asked the sea and the deeps and the living creeping things, and they answered, 'We are not thy God, seek above us.' I asked the morning air, and the whole air with its inhabitants answered, 'Anaximenes was deceived, we are not thy God.' I asked the heavens, sun, moon, stars, 'Nor,' say they, 'are we the God whom thou seekest.' And I replied unto all the things which encompass the door of my flesh, 'Ye have told me of my God that ye are not He: tell me something more of Him.' And they cried out with a loud voice, 'He made us.'"[028] * * * * * ARTICLE 2 _And in Jesus Christ His only Son our Lord_ SECTION 1.--AND IN JESUS CHRIST The first article of the Apostles' Creed has numerous adherents. Jews and Christians are at one in affirming their belief in God the Father Almighty, Maker of heaven and earth. Many too who, unlike Jews and Christians, have not been favoured with a written revelation, have yet risen to the conception of such a Divine Being as that article sets forth. Mohammedans believe in an Omnipotent Creator, and many thoughtful heathens have accepted and maintained the doctrine as an article of faith. It expresses a conviction reached by Plato and Aristotle, by Seneca and Epictetus, and is a truth proclaimed by Old Testament prophets and New Testament saints. No belief regarding things invisible is more generally professed. It is otherwise with the second article of the Creed, "I believe in Jesus Christ His only Son our Lord," which expresses doctrines so hotly disputed that they prove the saying true, "This child is set for a sign which shall be spoken against."[029] It is rejected by the Jew and the Mohammedan, and finds opponents in many who profess to accept the Scriptures of the Old and New Testaments as a Divine revelation, and to regard the exemplary life of Jesus as a model to be copied, while they deny His Divine origin, His sacrificial death, and His universal authority. The early controversies concerning the Second Person of the Trinity were disputes regarding His nature and the relation in which He stands to the Father. Certain heretics affirmed that Jesus was a mere man, selected by God and specially endowed with the gift of His Spirit. Others maintained that Christ was not God, but a created spirit, nearest to the Father in dignity, who took upon Him human nature, and, having finished the work appointed Him on earth, went up again to God the Father. One class, the Ebionites, regarded Him as a being essentially human, though begotten of the Spirit, by whom He was anointed above measure; while another, the Docetae, regarded Him as a Divine Being seemingly bearing human form and united with the man Jesus. These views were finally rejected by the Catholic Church, because they conflicted with the Word of God which affirms the true Divinity of the Son of God, the true humanity of the Son of Man, and the true union of the two natures of God and man in One Person, Jesus Christ. The Gnostics, who were the leaders in connection with such heretical views, are generally thought to date from the time of Simon Magus. He had been enrolled as a disciple of the Apostles, and, professing faith in Christ, was baptized by Peter. But he had joined the Christian Church for selfish ends,[030] as Luke's statements show. Hymenaeus,[031] Phygellus, and Hermogenes,[032] referred to by Paul in his second letter to Timothy, are believed to have been Gnostics, and towards the close of the first century Cerinthus and Ebion extended the system.[033] SECTION 2.--JESUS Jesus is the personal name of our Lord. In ancient times names had often a meaning and importance which they do not carry now. "Name" means a word by which any person or thing is known, and names were originally given from some quality attribute inherent in the person or thing to which they were attached. Proper names among the Hebrews had a deeper meaning and a closer connection with character and condition than elsewhere. The care that marks the Scriptures in recording the origin of names of individuals and places, the frequent allusions to names as having a special relation to character or qualities, the solemnity with which a change of name is stated as marking an epoch in the history of individuals or nations, and the frequency with which names are associated with great events, with promises, threats, or prophecies, show the importance that was attached to them. This feature is most marked in the use by the Jews of the word "Name" in reference to God. The "Name of the Lord," or an equivalent expression, constantly occurs to denote God Himself. His Name is in Scripture identified with His character, marking His attributes and His nature as distinguished from all other beings. The Name, Jehovah, by which God revealed Himself to Moses was so closely identified by the Jews with the Divine Personality and Holiness that it was never pronounced by them. In Old Testament times the Deliverer foretold as the object of faith and hope and love under the Gospel Dispensation was announced by a declaration of His name. "His name shall be called Wonderful, Counsellor, the Mighty God, the Everlasting Father, the Prince of Peace."[034] Immediately before He appeared a messenger was sent from heaven with the Divine command, "Thou shalt call his name Jesus: for he shall save his people from their sins."[035] The name is thus not the ascription to Him of qualities evolved from our own conception of what He is, or of what God is in Him, but God's disclosure of His infinite love and of His purposes for man's salvation. In His Divine power and by His efficacious sacrifice He is Jesus, the Saviour. He does not save, as some who profess to be Christians hold, by the influence of His own example and teaching only, just as one man may be said to save another whom he persuades to abandon evil habits and form good ones. He is our Saviour because He died as a sacrifice for our sins. Had He not expiated our guilt by dying for us, His example, teaching, and sympathy would never have brought us salvation. The name "Jesus" is a human name. In its Hebrew form Joshua, Jehoshua, Hosea it had been borne by others. We read of one Jesus in the New Testament[036] and of many in the pages of Josephus. In this respect, as in other particulars, Jesus was "made like unto his brethren" and bore a human distinctive name. "Jesus" was accordingly the name given to Him at His circumcision, by which He was to be known in His family and among the people of Nazareth. During His ministry He was described as "Jesus, the prophet of Nazareth of Galilee";[037] and the title affixed to His cross by Pilate was "Jesus of Nazareth, the King of the Jews." Yet, as if to make emphatic the truth that His humanity did not derogate from His Divine power and Godhead, the first Evangelist, who describes the angel's visit, quotes in immediate connection Isaiah's prophetic announcement, "They shall call his name Emmanuel, which being interpreted is, GOD with us."[038] In the name Jesus thus bestowed we have the announcement of Himself as a personal Saviour from sin, in its power and consequences. Of those who had borne it before Him some were raised up to deliver the people of their nation from suffering in time, but He came to be man's everlasting Saviour. "Neither is there salvation in any other: for there is none other name under heaven given among men, whereby we must be saved."[039] It is important therefore to bear in mind that Jesus is a name not only given to Him by God, but a name itself Divine; not only the name by which, as that of a Mediator, we worship God, but the name under which, as that of God Himself, we worship Him. "God also hath highly exalted him, and given him a name which is above every name: that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, of things in heaven, and things in earth, and things under the earth; and that every tongue should confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father."[040] SECTION 3.--CHRIST In ancient times no such appellations as those now termed surnames were given to individuals. One name only was distinctive. Both among the Jews and among the Greeks this system of nomenclature prevailed, family names being unknown. It was different with the Romans, by many of whom more names than one were borne. In reading ancient Greek history, we find illustrious personages known by one name only, as Plato, Aristotle, Socrates, Solon. The same feature marks early Jewish history. Abraham, Isaac, Moses, Job were not known by any other names than these. Sometimes names were changed or modified in order to express some speciality of character or achievement--Abram to Abraham, Jacob to Israel, Hoshea to Joshua. In later times appellations descriptive of the work or office of individuals were attached to their original names, as in the cases of John the Baptist, of Matthew the Publican, and of our Lord Himself, Jesus the Christ. This latter practice prevailed in early English history, and famous kings appear bearing descriptive epithets in addition to their original single names--Alfred the Great, Edward the Confessor, William the Conqueror. Christ is not a proper name but an official title. Although now often used to designate the person of the Lord Jesus, it was not so when He lived in the world. As John was the Baptist or Baptizer, Jesus was the Christ--the Anointed. The title is the Greek equivalent of the Hebrew Messiah, and means the Anointed. It denotes that He who bore it was separated, consecrated, and invested with high office. These distinctions met in Jesus, rendering the title appropriate. At the time of the birth of Jesus, the coming of a great deliverer was at once the desire and the expectation not of Jews only, but of many nations. Roman historians of that period tell us that a redeemer was to make his appearance from among the nation of Israel. This belief was no doubt spread abroad by Jewish exiles, who, scattered through many lands, carried with them the hopes and prophecies which had been given from time to time to their own people. That the expected Messiah had come to the world bearing with Him from heaven a message of salvation was the cardinal doctrine of Apostolic preaching. To accept Jesus as the Christ was to accept Him as the Saviour and Deliverer. When Andrew found his brother Simon he said to him, "We have found the Messias."[041] "Is not this the Christ?"[042] was the appeal of the woman of Samaria to the people of her city; and the confession of Peter that Jesus was the Christ, was declared by our Lord to be a revelation not of flesh and blood, but of His Father in heaven.[043] Not Apollos only, but Paul and the other inspired teachers also, set it before them as their appointed work, "to show by the Scriptures that Jesus was Christ."[044] To confess that Jesus was the Christ was an acknowledgment that in Him were vested all those attributes and qualities which the Old Testament Scriptures ascribed to Messiah, that Jesus of Nazareth was the Deliverer of whom the prophets testified, to whose coming all the holy men of old looked forward, whom prophets and kings desired to see, and of whom all Scripture bore witness. It was the acknowledgment by the common people that Jesus was Messiah that stirred the indignation of the Jewish rulers. They saw that, if this were conceded, all His claims must be held valid, and accordingly the Sanhedrim passed a resolution to the effect that, "if any man did confess that Jesus was Christ, he should be put out of the synagogue."[045] The name "Christ" denotes the offices which Jesus executes as our Redeemer. Three classes were set apart by anointing--the Prophet, who made known the will of God; the Priest, who confessed sin and offered sacrifice for the people; and the King, who acted as their leader and commander. Jesus was consecrated for His work as our Redeemer by anointing, but not, so far as we know, with material oil. He who anointed Him was God the Father, and the oil that descended upon Him was the Holy Ghost, of whose influence oil was the symbol. "God, even thy God, hath anointed thee with the oil of gladness above thy fellows."[046] He fulfilled the office of a Prophet by revealing the Father, and making known the will of God for our salvation; of a Priest in the sacrifice of Himself which He offered up to God for us, and in the intercession which He makes on our behalf at His Father's right hand; of a King in the victory He won over man's enemies, and in the power He imparts to His people, by which they overcome evil in themselves and in the world. It was not until after He had finished His work that His followers so closely associated Him with the Messiahship as to speak of Him not as Jesus only, nor as Christ only, but as Jesus Christ. This twofold name occurs very rarely in the Gospels--once in Matthew, once in Mark, never in Luke; but in the Epistles it is the name by which He is designated and made known to the world. To believe in Jesus Christ is to accept Him in all His offices, and to take home the truth which John had in view when he penned his Gospel: "These are written, that ye might believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God; and that believing ye might have life through his name."[047] SECTION 4.--HIS ONLY SON God is love. Love must have an object, and from eternity the Father was not alone. The only-begotten and well-beloved Son was with Him, dwelt in His bosom, and shared His glory. The Filiation or Sonship of our Lord follows the statement of His proper name and the declaration of His Messiahship. It is expressed in the designation, "Only Son," which is His divine name, peculiar to Himself, incommunicable to any other being. He is the Son of the Father, and is His only Son inasmuch as He alone partakes of His Divine nature, and in this nature is the Son. The Old Testament Scriptures foretold that Christ should be the Son of God. "I will declare the decree: the Lord hath said unto me, Thou art my Son; this day have I begotten thee."[048] Isaiah wrote of Him, "Unto us a child is born, unto us a son is given: and the government shall be upon his shoulder, and his name shall be called Wonderful, Counsellor, the Mighty God, the Everlasting Father, the Prince of Peace."[049] The New Testament in various passages bears the same testimony. "In the beginning," says John, "was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God"; and "the Word," he goes on to say, "became flesh, and dwelt among us, (and we beheld his glory, glory as of the only begotten from the Father,) full of grace and truth."[050] The writer to the Hebrews makes a similar declaration: "God, who at sundry times and in divers manners spake in time past unto the fathers by the prophets, hath in these last days spoken unto us by his Son, whom he hath appointed heir of all things, by whom also he made the worlds; who is the brightness of his glory, and the express image of his person."[051] It has been noted that Christ, in speaking to His disciples, never says _our_ Father, but either _My_ Father, or _your_ Father, or both conjoined, never leaving it to be inferred that God is in the same sense His Father and our Father. It appears from various passages in the New Testament, that when He came the Jews identified Messiah with the Son of God, as when Nathanael exclaimed, "Rabbi, thou art the Son of God; thou art the King of Israel";[052] and when Martha said, "I believe that thou art the Son of God, which should come into the world."[053] He did not first become the Son of God when He took upon Him the nature of man. The Divine Sonship existed in the beginning before He was the child of Mary, the seed of the woman. He was the Son of God before the birth of Abraham: "before Abraham was I am."[054] Though John the Baptist was older than Jesus, and preceded Him in His ministry, Jesus was yet preferred in honour before him, "for he was before him." "The Lord possessed him in the beginning of his way, before his works of old."[055] In the relation of the Son to the Father, there is a mystery which we cannot solve. "Who shall declare his generation?" Earthly figures fail to set forth Divine realities, and as we are dependent upon human emblems for the conceptions we form of heavenly things, we see through a glass darkly. But though we cannot fully understand the sense in which our Lord is the Son of God, we yet believe that He is so in a manner analogous to that in which we are our fathers' sons--possessing the same nature as His Father, and having that nature communicated to Him as the only-begotten Son. God has other sons. Angels are termed sons of God. Men are also His offspring, and believers are now the sons of God; but Jesus is God's son in a higher, special, and perfect sense. That Jesus claimed to be in this sense the Son of God is clear from many incidents in His history. It was ostensibly on the ground that He declared Himself to be "equal with God" that He was arrested and condemned by the Jewish rulers. The high priest put the question to Him directly and solemnly, "I adjure thee by the living God, that thou tell us whether thou be the Christ, the Son of God." The reply was distinct and emphatic. "Jesus said, I am: Hereafter shall ye see the Son of man sitting on the right hand of power, and coming in the clouds of heaven."[056] There is no resisting the meaning which these words convey. The Sonship they assert is very different from that which is implied when a mere man who fears God and keeps His commandments is said to be a son of God. It was a claim to the possession of Divine personality and power, and was so understood by His accusers. When Caiaphas heard the reply he accepted it in its full significance, tearing his clothes and exclaiming, "He hath spoken blasphemy; what further need have we of witnesses? behold, now ye have heard his blasphemy. What think ye? They answered and said, He is guilty of death."[057] His saying that He was the Son of God was the "blasphemy" for which He was condemned. The horror, real or affected, and the rent robes of the high priest, the verdict of the court, and the contemptuous treatment to which Jesus was afterwards subjected, leave no room for doubting that He declared Himself to be the Son of God, having at His disposal the powers of heaven and earth. SECTION 5--OUR LORD The last title of the Second Person is expressive of His dominion. The name "Lord" is the translation of a Greek word, which signifies ruling or governing. Jesus Christ is not only a Lord, He rules by authority and in a sense peculiar to Himself, so that He is commonly spoken of in the New Testament as "the Lord": "Come, see the place where the Lord lay";[058] "They have taken the Lord out of the sepulchre";[059] "I have received of the Lord that which also I delivered unto you." In the time of Christ the title "Lord" had for Jews and Jewish Christians a special personal meaning. "The Lord" was in the Septuagint, as it is still in the Authorised English version of the Old Testament, the translation of "Jehovah."[060] When, therefore, the Apostles used this title to designate their Master, there is reason to think that they did so in the full belief that He was one with the Father. This view is confirmed by Paul's statement. "To us there is but one God, the Father, of whom are all things, and we in him; and one Lord Jesus Christ, by whom are all things, and we by him."[061] As Lord, the government is upon His shoulders, His dominion is universal and His kingdom everlasting. This He claims for Himself "All power is given unto me in heaven and in earth";[062] "All things are delivered unto me of my Father";[063] "The Father loveth the Son, and hath given all things into his hand."[064] "God hath highly exalted him, and given him a name above every name that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, of things in heaven, and things in earth, and things under the earth; and that every tongue should confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father."[065] While Christ is the "Lord of all,"[066] the Creed yet sets forth the truth that there is a special sense in which He is the Lord of believers, "our Lord." Scripture recognises the existence in the universe of two great armies, marshalled under their respective leaders--one under the rule of Jesus Christ, the other under His adversary the Devil, otherwise termed Satan, Apollyon, and the Old Serpent. These powers are in constant antagonism, and every man takes his place in the army of Christ or in that of Satan. Those opposed to the Lord are rebels who, except they repent, must share the doom of their leader in the place prepared for the devil and his angels; "for He must reign until He hath put all His enemies under His feet." He is their Lord for their overthrow and destruction; while to those who are "with Him,"--"the called, and chosen, and faithful,"[067]--He is their Lord to secure for them victory and everlasting salvation. When we use the expression "our Lord," we declare that we renounce other masters; that we make no compromise with His enemies, and refuse to have "fellowship with the unfruitful works of darkness"; that, renouncing the Devil and his works, rejecting the vain pleasures, pomps, and glories of the world, and denying ourselves the gratification of sinful desires, we accept Christ as our leader, with the determination expressed by the prophet, "O Lord our God, other lords beside thee have had dominion over us: but by thee only will we make mention of thy name."[068] As the followers and subjects of an omnipotent, righteous King we shall strive to "bring into captivity every thought to the obedience of Christ." It is noteworthy that a plural pronoun is used in this recognition of Christ as _our_ Lord, while elsewhere throughout the Creed the confession of belief is personal, "I believe." The plural form here indicates that while in following Jesus we are separated from the world, we are gathered into the fellowship of the saints, and are members of the whole family in heaven and earth. * * * * * ARTICLE 3 _Who was conceived by the Holy Ghost, born of the Virgin Mary_ The Creed proceeds to declare belief in the doctrine of the Incarnation, which is thus set forth in the Shorter Catechism: "Christ, the Son of God, became man, by taking to Himself a true body, and a reasonable soul, being conceived by the power of the Holy Ghost, in the womb of the Virgin Mary, and born of her, yet without sin."[069] Two Evangelists record the miraculous birth of Jesus. Mark and John do not refer to it, and their silence has led some opponents of Christianity to discredit the statements of Matthew and Luke. But while there is no direct account given by Mark or John of the miraculous conception and birth of Jesus, the fact of His Divine descent is implied in many portions of their Gospels. The words with which Mark opens his narrative clearly express it, "The beginning of the gospel of Jesus Christ, the Son of God;"[070] as does the statement he makes that at His baptism there came a voice from heaven saying, "Thou art my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased."[071] John is equally explicit in declaring his belief in the Divinity of Jesus. The opening words of his Gospel assert His Divine nature: "In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. The same was in the beginning with God. All things were made by him; and without him was not anything made that was made."[072] It is evident, therefore, that each of the Evangelists believed in the Divine origin of Jesus, for they would not have used such language regarding one who in their opinion was a mere man, the son of Joseph the carpenter and of Mary his espoused wife. Matthew, who wrote for Jewish converts, shows how fully the Old Testament prophecy was accomplished that Christ should be born, not at Nazareth but at Bethlehem, and especially that Isaiah's prophecy, "Behold, a virgin shall be with child, and shall bring forth a son, and they shall call his name Emmanuel, which being interpreted is, GOD with us,"[073] was fulfilled in the birth of Jesus Christ. Luke, who is termed by Paul "the beloved physician," gives the fullest account of the Nativity. His writings are characterised by minuteness of detail and historical accuracy. Recent investigations have shown that, even in regard to matters about which he was long thought to have been mistaken, Luke's statements are strictly correct.[074] The story of the miraculous conception would not, without the strongest corroborative evidence, have commended itself to a man of his acumen and his calling. A physician by profession, the companion of Apostles, and possessing singular penetration and sagacity, he tells us that he had received the facts he narrates from eye witnesses and competent authorities. For information as to the events connected with the birth of her Son, Luke would naturally have recourse to Mary. There is evidence in his Gospel that he had intimate knowledge of her private thoughts and actions.[075] Lange, in his _Life of Jesus_, finds in the specialties of the narrative evidence of a woman's diction.[076] Be this as it may, the minuteness of detail, the message of the angel Gabriel, the preservation of the sacred songs, and of the thoughts and words of the Virgin, justify the belief that Luke received his information from herself. When we find him assuring his friend Theophilus that he himself had perfect understanding of all things from the very first, the inference is natural that his information was obtained from the most trustworthy sources. There is no reason to doubt that Mary was associated with the Apostles of her Son, and had opportunities of imparting information regarding Him which no other could supply Luke's account corresponds with that of John, to whose care Jesus from the Cross committed His mother, and who from that time "took her unto his own home."[077] It does not necessarily follow, even if the information was supplied by Mary, that it is therefore to be accepted as true. Human witnesses are not infallible or invariably honest, and it is conceivable that Mary may have been a dreamer or a deceiver. This article of the Creed, contradicting as it does the ordinary course of nature, stands in need of more than a historic statement. Jesus admitted that if His claims had been supported by no other evidence than His own word, the Jews would have had excuse for hesitating to accept Him. "If," said He, "I bear witness of myself, my witness is not true,"[078] and therefore He appealed to the testimony borne to His Messiahship by His Father, by John the Baptist, by His miracles, and by His life. All the evidence by which the Divine nature and mission of Jesus were accredited goes to support the account of His super natural birth. That Jesus was born of Mary is a plain historic truth to which all must accord belief. "Yes," said Renan, who did not regard Christ as the Son of God, "this story of Jesus is no fable, but a true history Christ really lived." The miraculous birth was a fulfilment of prophecy. When the angel told Mary that the child to be born of her would be the Son of God, he cited Isaiah's prophecy for the confirmation of her faith, and indeed the same truth had been foreshadowed when the promise was given to Eve that her seed should bruise the head of the serpent. The first Adam had no human father. He was the Son of God. It was therefore fitting that the second Adam should resemble the first in this respect, being in a sense infinitely higher than our first father the Son of God, His only Son. It was fitting too that He who was to assume the nature, not of any branch of the human family but of universal man, should be conceived by the Holy Ghost. Other faiths than Christianity are limited in their adaptation to races. The religion of Mahomet is not practicable save in Eastern latitudes. The Koran enjoins as duties practices that cannot be carried out in Western countries. The faiths of Brahma and Buddha find followers only under Eastern skies, and even Judaism required observances which could be rendered at Jerusalem only. All faiths but Christianity are narrowed down by the nationalities of their founders or adherents. It is otherwise with the religion of Jesus of Nazareth. He came from God with a mission and a message for the world. In comparison with the severe requirements of the law and the grievous exactions of religions devised by men, His "yoke is easy and His burden is light." With Him there is "neither Greek nor Jew, circumcision nor uncircumcision, Barbarian, Scythian, bond nor free."[079] With Him there are no distinctions of sect, or country, or caste. "In every nation he that feareth God and worketh righteousness is accepted with him."[080] In being born, Jesus assumed the nature of humanity, and, in so doing, more than restored to man the likeness to God which our first parents lost, for themselves and their descendants, through the Fall. He thereby made it possible for God to dwell with man, and for man to rise into communion with God. Sin had effaced the Divine image, and no other than the Son of God could give back to men the power to reflect in their own lives the character of God. His possession of the human nature gives us confidence in approaching Him, by assuring us of His brotherhood and sympathy; while His possession of the Divine nature assures us that He can make His brotherhood and sympathy effectual. * * * * * ARTICLE 4 _Suffered under Pontius Pilate, was crucified, dead, and buried_ SECTION 1.--SUFFERED UNDER PONTIUS PILATE The preceding articles of the Creed appeal to faith. They so far transcend reason that they can be apprehended only when reason is sustained by faith. This article, which affirms that Jesus "suffered under Pontius Pilate, was crucified, dead, and buried," is a simple historical statement. Pilate is a historic person, the details of whose life are recorded, not in the Gospels only, but in secular history. Josephus records several incidents in the life of Pilate which are strikingly in accordance with his character as set forth in the Gospels. Tacitus, a Roman historian, who wrote his _Annals_ soon after the crucifixion of Jesus, relates that, while Pilate was governor of Judaea, Jesus Christ was put to death. The testimony of the Gospels and the statement of the Creed are thus confirmed by the Roman and the Jewish historians. But, indeed, the event itself is not the subject of controversy. It is the conclusions drawn from it by the followers of Christ that are disputed. "Christ crucified, to the Jews a stumbling-block, and to the Greeks foolishness,"[081] still raises opposition and kindles hostility. The name of Pilate is inserted not with the view of branding him with infamy, but in order to fix the date of the crucifixion of Jesus. It is the only intimation of the time of His death that the Creed contains. It states that He was born, and that His mother was the Virgin Mary, and beyond this reference to Pilate there is no intimation as to the time of the nativity or the death. Bishop Pearson writes:--"As the Son of God, by His deliberate counsel, was sent into the world to die in the fulness of time, so it concerns the Church to know the time in which He died. And because the ancient custom of the world was to make computations by the governors, and refer their historical relations to the respective times of their government, therefore, that we might be properly assured of the actions of our Saviour which He did, and of His sufferings,--that is the actions which others did to Him,--the present governor is named in that form of speech which is proper to such historical or chronological narrations when we affirm that He suffered under Pontius Pilate."[082] From stating the birth of Christ, the Creed passes by what at first sight may seem an abrupt transition to His suffering, crucifixion, and death. There is no reference to His life or works, though these differed so widely from those of ordinary men. The reason seems to be that the end for which He came into the world was to suffer and die. Although He spake as never man spake, and did the works no other man did, it was not in the first place to teach or to work miracles that He emptied Himself of His glory and came to earth, but in order to suffer and die in the room and stead of sinners. Others had been prophets and teachers, others had worked miracles, others had done good in their day and generation, but none save Jesus had come in his own name or wielded power so marvellous as His. No one could share with Him the work of suffering and dying for sinners. He was lifted up that He might draw all men unto Him. "He suffered the just for the unjust, that he might bring us to God."[083] On the cross He tasted death for every man, and made a sacrificial atonement for the sins of the world. "He was wounded for our transgressions, he was bruised for our iniquities: the chastisement of our peace was upon him; and with his stripes we are healed."[084] His dying was the leading thought and purpose of His life. Those who were with Him fixed their eyes on His greatness as manifested in His wisdom and miracles, and looked for His setting up a kingdom of this world, but He Himself from the very beginning knew that the path to be traversed by Him was one of agony and death. He was straitened until this baptism of suffering should be accomplished.[085] At His first Passover He had intimated that, as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, so the Son of Man should be lifted up. He used this expression "lifted up" three times, and an Evangelist gives the explanation: "This he said, signifying what death he should die."[086] Again and again He told the disciples that He had come to give His life a ransom for many, that He was to be betrayed and killed, that as the Good Shepherd He would give His life for the sheep.[087] He intimated that His death was in accordance with the deliberate counsel and foreknowledge of His Father, and with His own free and full assent: "Therefore doth my Father love me, because I lay down my life."[088] And when betrayal and apprehension brought His ministry to a close, He would allow no sword to be drawn in His defence, but was brought as a "lamb to the slaughter, and as a sheep before her shearers is dumb, so he opened not his mouth."[089] The views which the Jews entertained with regard to the triumphant progress of Messiah did not accord with the statements of their prophets. The sacred writers who foretold His coming pointed indeed to victory as the ultimate issue of His mission, but they also clearly associated His life with conflict and suffering. From the first intimation of a Deliverer, which spoke of a heel bruised by man's malignant adversary, there was indicated in every type and prophecy the truth that Messiah was to be "a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief," whose triumph was to be achieved through suffering. The expectation current among the Jews that deliverance would be wrought by Messiah, without humiliation or suffering, showed that they misinterpreted the messages of the prophets. Familiar with the letter, they failed to grasp the spirit of the prophetical writings. Jesus laid this ignorance to their charge when He said to them, "Ye do err, not knowing the scriptures";[090] and He upbraided the two disciples on the way to Emmaus because they had failed to discover that their Redeemer's glory was to be won through conflict: "O fools, and slow of heart to believe all that the prophets have spoken: ought not Christ to have suffered these things, and to enter into His glory?"[091] The suffering which Jesus endured was both bodily and spiritual. Persecution followed Him as a babe: Herod sought to slay Him, and Joseph and Mary had to flee into Egypt.[092] He was "despised and rejected" by His countrymen. His claims were refused by His kinsmen. He "endured the contradiction of sinners."[093] He "took our infirmities and bare our sicknesses." He hungered and thirsted and was weary; He was spit upon, buffeted, and scourged. The cross on which He was to suffer was laid upon His shoulders, till His exhausted frame broke down; and on Calvary a thorny crown was set upon His brow, and the cruel nails pierced His hands and His feet. But the sorrow within His soul was worse to bear than bodily buffering. Travail of soul was the consummation of His afflictions, and while we do not read of a groan wrung from Him by bodily torture, soul-trouble led Him to ask His Father with "strong crying and tears," as His frame was agonized and His sweat was like drops of blood--"If it be possible, let this cup pass from me."[094] As man's Saviour Jesus was made perfect through suffering.[095] "We have not an high priest which cannot be touched with the feeling of our infirmities; but was in all points tempted like as we are, yet without sin."[096] The world is full of suffering, and He alone can understand and sympathise with it who has experienced it. It is the knowledge that their Divine Saviour is their Brother-man that gives to believing sufferers boldness and confidence as they draw nigh to the throne of grace. SECTION 2.--WAS CRUCIFIED Prophecy in the sense of prediction is a very interesting and important branch of Christian evidence. Old Testament prophets foretold minute events in the history of the Lord Jesus Christ, such as His lineal descent, the place and time of His birth, its miraculous character, His death, His burial, His three days' sojourn in the sepulchre, the casting of lots for His raiment, the piercing of His hands and feet, His last exclamation, His resurrection and ascension. Whatever view may be taken as to the dates of the various books of Scripture, it must be admitted that the whole body of the Old Testament was in circulation among the Jews hundreds of years before the birth of Christ. There can be no doubt that these prophecies were separated by great distance in time from the events predicted. Even the Septuagint Version, which is a Greek translation from the original Hebrew Scriptures, existed at Alexandria about two hundred years before His advent. One of the most striking features of Old Testament prediction is its bearing upon the closing scenes of Christ's history. In its types as well as in its prophecies His death was foreshadowed, and the humiliating and ignominious treatment to which He was subjected minutely described. The predictions involved events that appeared contradictory and paradoxical until their fulfilment furnished the key. He Himself told the disciples again and again that He should be crucified. This form of execution was a Roman punishment reserved for slaves and the vilest criminals; and the fact that Jesus was subjected to it depended on a combination of events which no mere human sagacity could have foreseen. It required that, though he should be apprehended, accused, tried, and found guilty by Jews, His death-sentence should be inflicted by Gentiles; that the Roman governor of Judaea should, against his better judgment, surrender to the clamorous cry of a mob who demanded that the prisoner should be crucified. It required that the betrayal and condemnation of Jesus should take place during the Passover week, when it was unlawful for the Jews to put any man to death. The excuse of the Jewish rulers, that they could not inflict death, did not mean that this power had been withdrawn from them, but that it was against their law to exercise it then. Had the season been different, had the Jews themselves carried out the sentence of death, it would have been accomplished not by crucifixion, but by stoning. Such an execution would not have fulfilled prophecy or have been associated with the ignominy that marked the Roman death-penalty. Thus the Scripture was fulfilled in Him, "Cursed is every one that hangeth on a tree."[097] There is but one explanation that meets these facts, which is that they were directed by the counsel and foreknowledge of God, and that holy men of God spake as they were moved by the Holy Ghost. The death of Jesus by crucifixion fulfilled in a wonderful manner the types and figures of the Old Testament. He applied the type of the brazen serpent to His death on the cross on which He was to be lifted up, and from which He was to exercise His healing power on those whom sin had bitten. The surrender of Isaac by Abraham, when he that had received the promises offered up his only begotten son, prefigured the unspeakable gift by the Father, who spared not His own Son, and the self-surrender of the Son, who gave Himself for us. As Isaac went forth bearing the wood on which he was to be offered, he was a type of Him who went forth from Jerusalem to Calvary bearing His cross. Had His sentence been any other than death by crucifixion, He would not have come under the doom which required that a prisoner should bear his cross. The Paschal Lamb, of which not a bone was to be broken, prefigured the Antitype in His exemption from the treatment to which the two thieves crucified with Him were subjected. In crucifixion He was numbered with the transgressors and associated with accursed criminals, and so prophecy received fulfilment. It is a standing testimony at once to the reality of Christ's suffering, and to the power which He exercises over men's minds and consciences, that from being associated with shame and scorn, the sign of the cross has been elevated to the highest place of honour and dignity. Through his reverence for Jesus, Constantine the Great, the first Christian Emperor of Rome, abolished crucifixion. It is recognised that through Christ's death upon the cross man obtains all that makes life precious. Instead of being regarded with scorn, a cross is the coveted emblem now of valour and exalted achievement. The instrument wherewith capital punishment was inflicted on abandoned criminals has come to be an ornament of monarchs. Such a change is to be explained only by the fact that it is the sign of Christ's redeeming sacrifice, and that to multitudes who glory in the Cross, He who suffered the painful death on Calvary is the "power of God and the wisdom of God unto salvation." SECTION 3.--DEAD The death of Jesus Christ was the result of His being crucified. When He died, the great sacrifice for the sins of the world was accomplished. Death was necessary for the completion of His work, and this was the fact most prominent in Old Testament type and prophecy. "Without shedding of blood is no remission,"[098] and it was to His death as the procuring cause of salvation that the Apostles directed their converts. To the Corinthians Paul wrote, "I delivered unto you first of all that which I also received, how that Christ died for our sins according to the scriptures."[099] It was necessary that the lamb which formed the chief part of the Passover meal should be slain, and so Messiah was brought as a lamb to the slaughter, and when John saw Him in vision it was as a Lamb that had been slain.[100] It is the death of Jesus that we commemorate in the Sacrament of the Lord's Supper. The bread represents His body "broken for us"; the wine, His blood which was "shed for many for the remission of sins."[101] "We are reconciled to God by the death of His Son."[102] "We have redemption through his blood, even the forgiveness of sins."[103] Statements such as these fail to convey any meaning if Christ did not really die on the cross, or if salvation comes to us in any other way than through His death as an atoning sacrifice. Of the reality of the death there is abundant evidence. It is recorded that, after six hours of suffering on the cross, Jesus gave up the ghost. The soldiers did not break His legs as they did in the case of the malefactors, because they saw and pronounced Him dead already; but one of them inflicted a spear-wound with a force that would have caused death had any life remained. The result was an outflow of blood and water, of itself sufficient evidence that death had done its work upon the Sufferer. Before Pilate permitted the body of Jesus to be delivered to Joseph, he was careful to make sure, by questioning the centurion in charge, that the wonderful prisoner who had caused him so great anxiety was dead. Thus Messiah was cut off, but not for Himself. He stood in the room and stead of sinners, and, though Himself without sin, He tasted death for every man. "He was delivered for our offences." "The Lord laid on him the iniquity of us all." His death was not the result of unavoidable circumstances, for it pleased the Lord to bruise Him; and His sacrifice was voluntary, for He said, "I lay down my life ... no man taketh it from me."[104] The penalty of death which He endured did not pertain to Him but to those for whom He died. "He bore our sins in his own body on the tree."[105] We are "justified by his blood."[106] "God hath set him forth to be a propitiation through faith in his blood, to declare his righteousness for the remission of sins that are past, through the forbearance of God ... that he might be just, and the justifier of him that believeth in Jesus."[107] "Therefore as by the offence of one judgment came upon all men to condemnation; even so by the righteousness of one the free gift came upon all men to justification of life. For as by one man's disobedience many were made sinners, so by the obedience of one shall many be made righteous."[108] In the statement that Jesus Christ "was dead," the Creed affirms the reality of Christ's death in opposition to certain early heretics, the Docetae, who said that His death was not real but only apparent. A similar view has been adopted by some modern writers, who assert that what the witnesses of the crucifixion saw was not death but a swoon, from which, through the ministry of His disciples, Jesus was restored after He had been taken down from the cross. It is urged in support of this view that a crucified criminal did not usually die as Jesus is said to have died, six hours after He was crucified, but lingered on for days, before being relieved from his sufferings by death. Jesus' legs were not broken by the soldiers, because they believed Him to be dead, but--say those who deny the reality of the death--the soldiers were mistaken, the seeming lifelessness was not real, and recovery soon followed, so complete that He was able to appear in public on the third day. In considering this statement, we must take into account the physical condition of Jesus when He was crucified. On the night of His betrayal, and after His apprehension, He had been subjected to intense suffering in body and to sorrow of soul such as human thought cannot conceive. In Gethsemane He had passed through an experience of agony from which He must have risen weakened, to endure new forms of suffering. He had been scourged by Roman soldiers, whose cruel loaded weapons inflicted wounds that left deep scars upon His flesh and caused intense pain and exhaustion. His hands and feet had been fixed to the cross with nails. He had been crowned with thorns and mocked and hooted by a reckless mob. He had been hurried from the Sanhedrim to the Judgment-hall, and had carried the cross until He sank beneath its weight. He had for six hours endured intense suffering from pain and thirst, and when, after a strong Roman soldier had thrust a spear into His side, He was taken down from the cross, and declared by the centurion and his company to be dead, He was laid without food, and remained for two nights and a day, in a cold rock-sepulchre, whose door was barred by a great stone, sealed, and guarded by soldiers. Suppose for a moment that Jesus had survived this terrible ordeal of suffering, and that, having eluded His Roman guard and His Jewish persecutors, He had again entered into Jerusalem, it must have been as a weak, disabled invalid, not as a man possessing normal strength and vigour. Yet on the third day He showed Himself alive, bearing no traces of the suffering He had endured except the marks of His wounds. The feet that had been pierced bore Him from Jerusalem to Emmaus, a journey of threescore furlongs; and He passed from place to place with a swiftness of movement and a superiority to obstacles that filled the disciples with amazement. In the light of these facts, the view we have been considering is utterly untenable. It is no matter for wonder that Jesus, after such exhaustion, died six hours after He had been lifted up on the cross. The circumstances which preceded His dying are not consistent with the opinion that while in the sepulchre He recovered from a swoon. It is not possible to conceive that a man, wounded and bruised--His hands, feet, and side pierced with nails and spear--could appear so soon, bright and radiant, strong and vigorous, undistressed by pain or weakness, and possessing power of movement not only restored, but marvellously augmented. If Jesus was not really "dead," no explanation can be given of His disappearance from history. If He had really lived as a man after His crucifixion, we should have looked for a fresh outbreak of persecution directed against Him. We have His own testimony by the Spirit, "I am he that liveth, and was dead."[109] SECTION 4.--AND BURIED Isaiah thus prophesied regarding the burial of the Messiah: "He was cut off out of the land of the living ... and he made his grave with the wicked, and with the rich in his death."[110] In ordinary circumstances, the body of a crucified person would not have received burial. It was the Roman custom to leave the bodies of slaves and criminals, who alone were subjected to this punishment, suspended on the cross, a prey to beasts and birds, and when these and the elements had done their work upon the flesh, the remains were ignominiously cast out. The Jews, who inflicted capital punishment not by crucifixion but by stoning, did not thus deal with the bodies of malefactors; but, as the law directed, gave them burial on the night of execution.[111] The presence of dead bodies in the neighbourhood of Jerusalem during the Passover festival was regarded as a defilement, and steps were taken to have those of Jesus and the malefactors removed. The Jews could not themselves dispose of the bodies, because they would have sustained pollution by contact with them, and also because they had made over to the Romans the execution of the death-sentence. "The Jews therefore, because it was the preparation, that the bodies should not remain upon the cross on the Sabbath day, (for that Sabbath day was an high day,) besought Pilate that their legs might be broken, and that they might be taken away."[112] This request was granted, but, through the interposition of Joseph, a rich man of Arimathaea--to whom, as a member of the supreme council, the resolution for the removal of the bodies would be known--that of Jesus escaped the ignominious treatment to which the others were subjected. He came and went in boldly unto Pilate and craved the body of Jesus, securing for it an honourable burial such as the Jews had not contemplated. Pilate "gave" the body to Joseph, and he bought fine linen, and took Him down and wrapped Him in the linen and laid Him in a sepulchre, which was hewn out of a rock.[113] It was a new sepulchre, "where never man had yet lain."[114] In Joseph's holy task there was associated with him Nicodemus, who brought costly spices wherewith to embalm the body, "as the manner of the Jews is to bury." The disciples of Jesus do not appear to have shared in this work, which was watched from a distance by certain women from Galilee, who followed and saw where He was laid. They, too, made ready spices and ointment with which to honour the body of the Lord; but when they came to the tomb on the morning of the first day of the week, they found it empty, for Jesus had risen. It is not without meaning that the tomb in which the body of Jesus was laid was a new one. It was thus impossible to affirm that any other than He had opened a way out of its dark recess, the conqueror of death. Such was the wonderful combination of circumstances that led to the fulfilment of Isaiah's prophecy, "He made his grave with the wicked, and with the rich in his death." The Jews desired that He should be buried with the wicked. When they besought Pilate to remove the bodies, they wished that Jesus and the malefactors should be laid together. If the Jewish rulers had not parted with their right to dispose of the bodies, the three who had been crucified together would have been consigned to the burying-ground set apart for the interment of Jewish criminals; but it was the Divine decree that Jesus should make His grave with the rich, and therefore the event was so overruled that the bodies of Jesus and the malefactors were at the disposal not of the Jews, but of the Roman governor, who delivered the body of Jesus to the rich Joseph. While, therefore, Jesus was executed in such a way that, but for the intervention of the Jews and Pilate and Joseph, He would have been buried with criminals, "he made his grave with the rich in his death." Thus He who had humbled Himself in dying was honoured in His burial. Joseph and Nicodemus were timid men. The one was a secret disciple and the other, through fear of the Jews, came to Jesus by night. Though members of the Sanhedrim, they had lacked courage to defend Jesus when He was under trial; but now, grown bold, they identified themselves with Him. The sepulchre was carefully watched. The Jews, thinking that they might hear something about the resurrection of Him whom they called "that deceiver," went to Pilate and made known their fear that the disciples would steal His body and say that He had risen from the dead.[115] The Roman governor made light of their apprehension, and said to them, perhaps sarcastically, "Ye have a watch: make it as sure as ye can." "So they went, and made the sepulchre sure, sealing the stone, and setting a watch,"[116]--proceedings which eventually furnished strong confirmation of the reality of Christ's death, burial, and resurrection. * * * * * ARTICLE 5 _He descended into hell; the third day He rose again from the dead_ SECTION 1.--HE DESCENDED INTO HELL It is somewhat startling to find in the Creed this statement regarding our Lord, "He descended into hell." The clause, which was one of the latest admitted into the Creed, was derived from another creed known as that of Aquileia, compiled in the fourth century. It does not appear in the Nicene Creed, but it has a place in the Thirty-nine Articles of the Church of England, where we read, "As Christ died for us, and was buried, so also it is to be believed that He went down into Hell." The Westminster Divines, who gave the Creed a place at the close of their Shorter Catechism, appended a note explanatory of the clause to this effect, "That is, continued in the state of the dead, and under the power of death, until the third day." The word "hell" is used in various senses in the Old Testament. Sometimes it means the grave, sometimes the abode of departed spirits irrespective of character, sometimes the place in which the wicked are punished. In the English New Testament, also, the word "hell" has not in every place the same meaning. It represents two different nouns in the original Greek--Gehenna and Hades. _Gehenna_ was the name of a deep, narrow valley, bordered by precipitous rocks, in the neighbourhood of Jerusalem, which had been desecrated by human sacrifices in the time of idolatrous kings, and afterwards became the depository of city refuse and of the offal of the temple sacrifices. The other noun, rendered by the same English word _Hell_, is _Hades_, which means "covered," "unseen" or "hidden." _Hades_ is the abode of disembodied spirits until the resurrection. The Jews believed it to consist of two parts, one blissful, which they termed _Paradise_--the abode of the faithful; the other _Gehenna_, in which the wicked are retained for judgment. Lazarus and Dives were both in Hades, but separated from each other by an impassable gulf, the one in an abode of comfort, the other in a place of torment.[117] As long as the spirit tabernacles in the body there are tokens of its presence in the visible life which is sustained through its union with the body. But when it departs from its dwelling-place in the flesh, death and corruption begin their work on the body. Death is complete only when the spirit has departed, and it is probable that this statement in the Creed was meant to express in the fullest terms that Christ's death was real. As man He had taken to Himself a true body and a reasonable soul, and when His body was crucified and dead, His spirit passed, as other human spirits pass at death, into Hades. It is not without a meaning that we read, "When Jesus had cried with a loud voice, he gave up the ghost."[118] Ghost is simply spirit, and in His case, as in that of every man, there was a true departure of the soul from the body at death. It was with His spirit that His last thought in life was occupied. He knew that though it was to depart from the battered, bruised tabernacle of His body, it was not to pass out of His Father's sight or His Father's care. "Father, into thy hands I commend my spirit,"[119] were His last words on the cross. The descent into hell is not referred to in the Westminster Confession, but in the Larger Catechism this statement is found: "Christ's humiliation after His death consisted in His being buried, and continuing in the state of the dead, and under the power of death, till the third day, which hath been otherwise expressed in these words, 'He descended into hell'"[120] What the Westminster Divines meant was, that while Christ's body was laid in the grave His spirit passed from the visible to the invisible world, that, as He shared the common lot of men in the death and burial of His body, so He shared their common lot in passing as a spirit into the abode of spirits. The statement of this clause follows naturally what is said of the body of Jesus in that which precedes it. As His body was crucified, dead, and buried, so His spirit passed into the abode of spirits. "In all things it behoved him to be made like unto His brethren."[121] Those who maintain that the spirit of Christ descended into hell in a sense peculiar to Himself, ground their opinion upon certain passages of Scripture. Psalm xvi. 10--"Thou wilt not leave my soul in hell, nor wilt thou suffer thine Holy One to see corruption"--is quoted in support of this opinion, but does not really justify it. It expresses the confidence of the speaker, that God will not deliver His soul to the power of Sheol (the Hebrew word equivalent to the Greek Hades), or suffer His body to see corruption, and in this sense the passage is quoted by Peter, as a proof from prophecy of the resurrection of Christ. Ephesians iv. 9 is also regarded as giving sanction to this view--"Now that he ascended, what is it but that he also descended first into the lower parts of the earth?" By the "lower parts of the earth" some understand parts lower than the earth, but such a view rests on a strained interpretation of the passage. Paul's argument is that ascent to heaven must have been made by one who, before ascending, was below. Christ had come down from heaven to earth, and was below therefore, he argues, Christ is the subject of the prophecy he has quoted. He it was that hid ascended up on high, not the Father, who is everywhere.[122] In Isaiah xliv. 23 we have corroboration of this view: "Sing, O ye heavens ... shout, ye lower parts of the earth." Here "lower parts" means simply the earth beneath; that is, beneath the heavens. The most difficult and important passage bearing on the clause is 1 Peter iii. 18, 19. "Being put to death in the flesh, but quickened by the spirit by which also he went and preached to the spirits in prison." In the Revised Version the rendering is not "by" but "in," "which" referring to the word "spirit,"--not the third Person of the Godhead, but the human spirit of Jesus--in which spirit, separated from the body yet instinct with immortal life, He went and "preached to the spirits in prison," or rather to the spirits in custody. The passage marks an antithesis between "flesh" and "spirit." In Christ's "flesh." He was put to death. His enemies killed His body, but His soul was as beyond their power. His body was dead, but in the abode of souls His "spirit" was alive and active. So far there is here simply the statement that our Lord's disembodied spirit passed to Hades, but the Apostle adds that He "preached to the spirits in prison," and it is inferred by some that He preached repentance, but this is an assumption for which there is no Scripture warrant. We are not told what was the subject of Christ's preaching. He had finished His work on earth, had atoned for sin, had overcome death and conquered Satan. Even angels did not fully know the work of grace and salvation which Christ accomplished for man, and it is not likely that the spirits of departed antediluvians and patriarchs understood its greatness. The least in the Kingdom of Heaven knows more than the greatest of patriarchs or prophets knew. While in the flesh they had seen His day afar off, and, as disembodied spirits, they knew that Messiah by suffering and dying was to work out their redemption, but before the work was finished neither men nor angels understood the mystery of it, and what is more likely than that the completion of His redeeming work was first made known to them in the spirit by the Redeemer Himself? If we accept this view, the preaching to the spirits in prison was the intimation to those already blessed, who had while on earth repented and believed, that Messiah by dying had brought in everlasting salvation for His people. There is still a difficulty in Peter's words. Christ is said to have preached to those who were disobedient in the days of Noah. Peter says that in the writings of Paul there are some things hard to be understood, but what he himself writes regarding Christ's work in Hades is also difficult, and the passage has found a great variety of interpretations. It would seem to imply that Christ in the spirit carried a special message to the antediluvians who had been disobedient and had perished in the Flood. What that message was we are not told, and human conjecture may not supply what the Spirit of God has seen fit to conceal. While the passage is a difficult one, the inference is not warranted which some have drawn from it, that those who are disobedient to Christ and reject His Gospel may, though they die impenitent, nevertheless obtain salvation after death. The plain teaching of Scripture is that it is appointed unto men once to die, and after that the judgment.[123] And whatever the statement of Peter may mean, it does not sanction belief in purgatory or in universal restoration. Romanists teach that the department of Hades to which the spirit of our Lord descended was that in which dwelt the souls of believers who died before the time of Christ, and that the object of His descent was the deliverance and introduction into heaven of the pious dead who had been imprisoned in the _Limbus Patrum_, as they term that portion of Hades which these occupied. This they say was the triumph of Christ to which Paul refers in Ephesians iv. 8, when, quoting the 68th Psalm, he tells us that He ascended up on high, leading captivity captive. According to the Romanists, Hades consists of three divisions--heaven, hell, and purgatory. Heaven is the most blessed abode reserved for three classes of persons:--1st, Those Old Testament saints whose spirits were detained in custody until Christ arose, when they were led out by Him in triumph; 2nd, Those who in this life attain to perfection in holiness; and 3rd, Those believers in Christ, who, having died in a state of imperfection, have made satisfaction for their sins and receive cleansing through endurance of the fires of purgatory. Hell is the abode of endless torment, where heretics and all who die in mortal sin suffer eternally. Purgatory is supposed to complete the atonement of Christ. His work delivers from original sin and eternal punishment, but satisfaction for actual transgression is not complete until after the endurance of temporal punishments and the pains of purgatory. The Church of Rome claims the right to prescribe the nature and extent of such punishments, and having devised a complicated system of indulgences, penances, and masses, professes to hold the Keys of Heaven and to possess authority to regulate penalties and obtain pardon for the living and the dead. Such claims are unfounded and false. God alone can forgive sin, and He recognises only two classes--the righteous and the wicked--here and hereafter; and only two everlasting dwelling-places--heaven and hell. The Romanist doctrine has no authority in Scripture, but is of heathen origin, being derived from the Egyptians through the Greeks and Romans, and having been current throughout the Roman Empire. Its effect has been the aggrandisement and enrichment of the papal priesthood and the subjection of the people. It contradicts the Word of God, which declares that there is no condemnation to the believer in Christ Jesus; that he hath eternal life; that for him to depart is to be with Christ, to enjoy unalloyed, unending blessedness. Protestants, therefore, hold that "the souls of believers are at their death made perfect in holiness, and do immediately pass into glory."[124] Between those who hold the doctrine of purgatory and believers in universal restoration, there is not a little in common. Universalists reject the Atonement, and say that God always punishes men for their sins. The wicked must expect to suffer in the next world, but the mercy of God will follow them, the punishment endured will in time effect deliverance, and the result will finally be the restoration of all to purity and happiness. They thus maintain with regard to all, what Romanists hold respecting those who pass to purgatory, and both are to be answered in the same way. We cannot make satisfaction, and we need not, for Jesus has borne "our sins in his own body on the tree."[125] By this "one offering he hath perfected for ever them that are sanctified"; so that "there remaineth no more sacrifice for sins, but a certain fearful looking for of judgment and fiery indignation, which shall devour the adversaries."[126] This clause has place in the Creed as a protest against the heresy of Apollinaris, a Bishop of Laodicea, who taught that Christ did not assume a human soul when He became incarnate. He thus denied the perfect manhood of Christ, and in support of His doctrine appealed to the fact that the Scripture says,[127] "The Word (in Greek, Logos) was made flesh," "God was manifest in the flesh," while it is never said that He was made spirit. He sought to establish a connection between the Divine Logos and human flesh of such a kind that all the attributes of God passed into the human nature and all the human attributes into the Divine, while both together merged in one nature in Christ, who, being neither man nor God, but a mixture of God and man, held a middle place. His heresy found many supporters, though it was promptly met by Gregory Nazianzen, who showed that the term "flesh" is used in Scripture to denote the whole human nature, and that when Christ became incarnate He took upon Him the complete nature of humanity, untainted by sin. Only thus could He be qualified to become man's Saviour, for only a perfect man can be a full and complete Redeemer. Man's spirit, his most noble element, stands in need of redemption as well as his body, for all its faculties are corrupted by sin. In affirming that Jesus descended into hell, this clause of the Creed declares that He possessed the complete nature of humanity; that His true body died, and that His reasonable soul departed to Hades. SECTION 2.--THE THIRD DAY HE ROSE AGAIN FROM THE DEAD[128] On the morning of the first day of the week, thenceforth hallowed as the Lord's Day--the Christian Sabbath--the soul of Jesus left Hades, and once more and for ever entered the body, and formed with it the perfected humanity of the "Word made flesh." The resurrection of Jesus is a well-attested fact of history. The close-sealed, sentinelled sepulchre, the broken seal, the stone rolled away, the trembling guard, the empty tomb, and the many appearances of Jesus to the women, the disciples, the brethren, and last of all to Saul of Tarsus, prove that He had risen.[129] The Resurrection was a fulfilment of Old Testament prophecy. Peter thus interprets Psalm xvi. 10, "For thou wilt not leave my soul in hell; neither wilt thou suffer thine Holy One to see corruption," affirming that David in that Psalm speaks of the Resurrection of Christ.[130] Jesus Himself often foretold, both figuratively and directly, His own resurrection, as when He spoke of the coming destruction of the Temple, and connected it with the death and resurrection of His body;[131] or when He told the disciples that in a little while they should not see Him, and again in a little while they should see Him.[132] The place which this doctrine holds in the Christian faith is shown by the numerous references to it in the Epistles. The Apostles had not grasped the statements of Christ in such a way as to lead them to look with confidence for His return, or to gather hope of His resurrection. On the contrary, they did not expect His resurrection, and, when they heard of it, they could not believe it to be real.[133] Yet, convinced by the evidence of their own senses, they came to hold it fast as the fact that crowned all their hopes in life and death. Although the preaching of "Jesus and the Resurrection" exposed them to persecution and martyrdom, they nevertheless continued to proclaim a risen Lord. "If Christ is not risen," says Paul, "then is our preaching vain, and your faith is also vain,"[134] and he goes on to admit that if the Resurrection had not taken place, he was altogether mistaken in the view of God's character set forth in his preaching and epistles. Peter makes a similar statement: "We are begotten again unto a lively hope by the resurrection of Jesus Christ."[135] It is His victory over death that confirms the truth of His claims. He is proved to be the Son of God by His resurrection from the dead.[136] So important a fact was it regarded in connection with their work, that when they met to select a successor to Judas in the apostolic college, it was held to be essential that no one should be appointed who was not able to testify that he had seen the risen Lord.[137] Paul regarded this doctrine as so necessary, that he made it the basis of faith and salvation: "If thou shalt confess with thy mouth the Lord Jesus, and shalt believe in thine heart that God hath raised him from the dead, thou shalt be saved."[138] The life of Paul is an unanswerable argument for the truth of the Resurrection. Not only did he preach this as the central doctrine of Christianity; he maintained it at the cost of all that, before his conversion, he had held dear. He was not a man to give his faith to such a doctrine without overwhelming evidence of its truth. As Saul of Tarsus he had been in the fullest confidence of the Jewish rulers, and knew all that they could urge against the reality of the Resurrection, but their arguments had no weight with one who had seen the risen Lord on the way to Damascus. The importance of the Resurrection of Christ as an argument for the Divine origin of Christianity is recognised alike by those who receive and by those who reject it. Negative criticism has assailed the doctrine and has devised ingenious theories to explain on natural grounds the testimony on which it is received. The diversity of such explanations goes far to refute them, and their utter failure to account for the marvellous effects which the appearances of the risen Jesus produced on the witnesses, or for the place which the doctrine held in their teaching, has tended rather to establish than to discredit the reality of the Resurrection. Various sceptical theories, to which much importance was attached for a time, are now almost forgotten. The Mythical theory fails to account for the immediate effect produced by belief in the Resurrection. Myths require time for their growth and development, but the disciples of Jesus set the Resurrection in the forefront from the very first. On the day of Pentecost Peter sounded the keynote of Apostolic preaching when he declared, "This Jesus hath God raised up, whereof we all are witnesses." And so from this time forward, "with great power gave the Apostles witness of the resurrection of the Lord Jesus." The historical fact not only rests upon the most irresistible evidence; it is the very corner-stone of the whole fabric of Gospel teaching. Another view of the testimony for the Resurrection has found advocates who claim that it explains, without having recourse to supernaturalism, the belief of the disciples and others in the doctrine. With some minor differences of detail, they agree in attributing the persistency of those who said that they had seen Jesus alive, to the impression produced on them by His wonderful personality. This, they hold, was so strong that the effect continued after His death, and the disciples saw visions of Him so vivid that they believed them to be real appearances. He had filled so much of their lives while He was with them, that they were unable to realise His departure, and retained His image in their hearts continually. Exalted and excited feeling projected His figure so that they saw Him apparently restored to life. A theory such as this will not stand, in the face of the evidence for the Resurrection. It was no subjective impression, but the Saviour Himself, that brought conviction to the minds of the numerous witnesses. It was no apparition, it was a body that they saw and handled and tested and proved to be of flesh and blood. They heard their Master speak, and saw Him eat; and at frequent intervals for forty days He showed Himself to them. Sometimes He was seen by one, sometimes by many; and before His ascension He charged them to carry on the work He had committed to them: to feed His sheep, to feed His lambs, to go into all the world and preach the Gospel to every creature. "Him," said Peter, "God raised up on the third day, and showed him openly; not to all the people, but unto witnesses chosen before of God, even to us, who did eat and drink with him after he rose from the dead."[139] What they saw was the true body of their Lord, the same that had been crucified, dead, and buried, but a marvellous change had passed over it. It was now possessed of spiritual qualities, suddenly appearing, suddenly vanishing; now felt to be made of flesh and bones, and now passing through closed doors, or walking upon water. It was no longer subject to natural law as it had been before the Resurrection; and when the disciples beheld the Lord, they had not only proof of His continued existence, of His being God as well as man, and of God's seal having been set upon His atoning work,--they had also an intimation of what life hereafter will be for His followers, who shall be like Him, for they shall see Him as He is. How full and widespread was the belief in the Resurrection of Jesus in the hearts of those who were its witnesses, is apparent not only from the fact that the great theme of their preaching was "Jesus and the resurrection," but is also evident from the importance they attached to the Lord's Day and the Lord's Supper. These institutions have a direct connection with the Resurrection, the former having been substituted for the Jewish Sabbath expressly on the ground that on that day the Lord rose; the latter, while it commemorates His death, sets forth also His resurrection life. * * * * * ARTICLE 6 _He ascended into heaven, and sitteth on the right hand of God the Father Almighty_ Forty days after His resurrection Jesus charged the Apostles, in the last words He is known to have spoken on earth, to testify of Him throughout the world, and assured them that they should receive power through the descent of the Holy Spirit. This last-recorded utterance called His Church to missionary enterprise: "Ye shall be witnesses unto me both in Jerusalem, and in all Judaea, and in Samaria, and unto the uttermost part of the earth."[140] It is when believers in Christ are faithful in the performance of this duty that fulfilment of the promise may be confidently looked for, "Lo, I am with you alway, even unto the end of the world."[141] We are told that, when Jesus had spoken these things, "He led them out as far as to Bethany, and he lifted up his hands, and blessed them. And it came to pass, while he blessed them, he was parted from them, and carried up into heaven."[142] Ascension is the completion of Resurrection. "If he were on earth," says the author of the Epistle to the Hebrews, "he should not be a priest."[143] No part of His work would have corresponded to that of the high priest, who, when he had offered up sacrifice, passed into the holy place with the blood of the victim, and laid it upon the altar. The act thus foreshadowed in the type was accomplished when our great High Priest passed into the heavens, and "entered not into the holy places made with hands, which are the figure of the true; but into heaven itself, now to appear in the presence of God for us."[144] The Ascension took place in open day and in the sight of the Apostles. "While they beheld, he was taken up."[145] That they might be witnesses of the fact, it was necessary that they should see Him go up from earth. Unlike the Ascension, the Resurrection of Christ took place unseen by mortal eye. Eye-witnesses of His rising from the dead were not needed. The fact that they had seen Jesus after He rose qualified them to be witnesses of His Resurrection, but it was only because they had seen Him taken up that they could bear personal testimony to His Ascension. Thus our Lord "ascended into heaven, and sitteth on the right hand of God the Father Almighty." This Article expresses the honour and dignity of His Person and character. To sit on the right hand is an honour reserved for the most favoured.[146] When the Scriptures speak of the right hand of God, it is meant that, as the right hand among men is the place of honour, power, and happiness, so to sit on the right hand of God is to obtain the place of highest glory, power, and satisfaction. At God's right hand our Lord entered into everlasting and perfect glory and dominion. Being one with the Father, all that is the Father's is His. He is exalted a Prince and a Saviour, having an eternal life and all the fulness of the Godhead dwelling in Him bodily. The Father Himself gave Him the place at His right hand, having highly exalted Him and given Him a name which is above every name. None can dethrone Him or successfully plot against His kingdom. No weapon, carnal or spiritual, can ever prevail against Him. It is this that gives to Christianity its stability and power, for Christianity is Christ Himself sitting at the right hand of God. The ascended Christ exercises absolute authority and unlimited dominion. The Father on whose right hand the Son sits is, in this clause, as in that which stands at the beginning of the Creed, termed the "Father Almighty." Though the distinction is not apparent in the English version of the Creed, "Almighty" in the original Greek is in these clauses expressed by two different words. In the earlier clause, the word so rendered signifies God's supreme, universal dominion, while here the word employed denotes the fact that His power and operation are always efficacious and irresistible, and that all things are under His absolute control. This word "Almighty" warrants the belief which the clause declares, that the Son, sitting on the right hand of the Father, possesses absolute and universal power, and that in executing His office as Mediator none can resist or oppose Him. The word "sitteth" is expressive not so much of the attitude as of the settled and continuous character of Christ's exaltation. At God's right hand in heaven He executes the offices of Prophet, Priest, and King, as He did on earth. The prophet, as teacher of the revealed truth, held office in Old Testament times; and when Jesus entered on His public ministry, it was as a Divinely-accredited teacher that He claimed to be received. He brought out of His treasury things new and old, and exhorted men to hear, believe, and obey Him. By His words and His life, He made known the will of God for man's salvation; and when He was lifted up upon the cross, it was to the end that, by the sacrifice He offered and the truth He taught, He might draw all men unto Him. He brought life and immortality to light, and since His departure He has not ceased to be the Teacher and the Guide of all who receive Him. His word abides with us, and His first gift to the Church after He rose was the Holy Ghost, who came to lead men to all truth. When the Lord ascended on high He received gifts for men, "and he gave some, apostles; and some, prophets; and some, evangelists; and some, pastors and teachers; for the perfecting of the saints, for the work of the ministry, for the edifying of the body of Christ."[147] It is in Him that all Christian teaching originates, and through His Spirit that it takes hold of men's hearts. Our Lord does not indeed now appear in visible form, speaking face to face with men as He did in Palestine, but He speaks in and through every believer who in His name seeks to win souls for His Kingdom. Paul recognised this when he wrote to the Corinthians, "Now then we are ambassadors for Christ, as though God did beseech you by us: we pray you in Christ's stead, be ye reconciled to God."[148] In His exaltation, Christ executes the office of a Priest. The functions of the Jewish high priest were not limited to the offering of sacrifice. When he had made an end of offering, he carried the blood of the victim into the Holy Place and made intercession for the sins of the congregation. As the mediator between God and His people, he thus foreshadowed the work of Him who is a "priest for ever, after the order of Melchizedek,"--succeeding none, and being succeeded by none, in His priestly office. As the high priest's work was partly without and partly within the Holy Place, so Christ's priestly work is twofold, consisting of His satisfaction for sin upon earth and His intercession in heaven. "Christ our Passover is sacrificed for us." He was once offered to bear the sins of many, thereby satisfying Divine justice and reconciling men to God. After having as our great High Priest offered the sacrifice of Himself, He passed into the heavens. There He makes continual intercession for us. At the right hand of God He exercises kingly prerogatives also. He was anointed to the royal office at His baptism, when the Holy Ghost descended on Him.[149] When by death He overcame him who had the power of death; when He rose from the grave and announced to His disciples that all power was given Him in heaven and earth, He asserted His kingly office; and when God, having raised Him from the dead, set Him at His own right hand in heavenly places, far above all principalities, and powers, and might, and dominion, and every name that is named, not only in this world, but also in that which is to come, all things were put under His feet, He was given to be Head over all things to the church,[150] and received dominion and glory and a kingdom. He must reign until all His enemies are under His feet. "To which of the angels said he at any time, Sit on my right hand, until I make thine enemies thy footstool?"[151] * * * * * ARTICLE 7 _From thence He shall come to judge the quick and the dead_ This clause of the Creed points to the future. As those who saw Jesus ascend stood gazing up, two heavenly messengers in white apparel appeared and said to them, "This same Jesus, which is taken up from you into heaven, shall so come in like manner as ye have seen him go into heaven."[152] Jesus Himself often warned the disciples that the time was at hand when He should leave them and return to His Father, but that His departure was not to be final, for He would come again to gather all nations before Him, and to judge the quick and the dead. He comforted them by the statement that His going away was expedient for them. "I go to prepare a place for you." "I will come again, and receive you unto myself."[153] But the return was not to be only for the reception of the faithful into His kingdom and glory, but for judgment upon all mankind. "The Son of man shall come in the glory of his Father with his angels; and then shall he reward every man according to his works."[154] "Behold, he cometh with clouds; and every eye shall see him, and they also which pierced him: and all kindreds of the earth shall wail because of him."[155] The time of Christ's return to judgment has not been revealed. "Of that day and hour knoweth no man, no, not the angels of heaven, but my Father only."[156] The first Christians looked for it with joyous expectation, believing that their Lord and Master would speedily appear and redress their wrongs. Cruelly persecuted by Jew and Gentile, it is no wonder that Apostles and other believers associated the second advent with emancipation and victory, and termed it "That blessed hope, the glorious appearing of the great God and our Saviour Jesus Christ."[157] Under the influence of false teachers, this expectation gave rise to unhealthy excitement and consequent disorder in the Church. In his second Epistle to the Thessalonians Paul set himself earnestly to counteract their teaching. He indignantly repudiated the doctrine attributed to him, apparently in connection with a forged epistle, and he supplied a test by which the genuineness of his letters might be proved. The mistake of the Thessalonians has often been repeated. Attempts have been made to fix the time of the Lord's second coming, and the work of predicting goes on busily still. Enthusiasts and impostors have been more or less successful in finding credulous followers. Again and again the progress of time has falsified such predictions, but would-be prophets have not been discouraged by the blunders of their predecessors. All men, quick and dead, are to be brought before the Judgment-seat, the faithful that they may be raised to everlasting blessedness, and the wicked to be dismissed to everlasting punishment. Paul describes the events of the great day of Christ's appearing as it will affect the saints. "The Lord himself shall descend from heaven with a shout, with the voice of the archangel, and with the trump of God: and the dead in Christ shall rise first: then we which are alive and remain shall be caught up together with them in the clouds, to meet the Lord in the air."[158] He gives a similar description to the Corinthians: "We shall not all sleep, but we shall all be changed, in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trump: for the trumpet shall sound, and the dead shall be raised incorruptible, and we shall be changed."[159] "He commanded us to testify," says Peter, "that it is he which was ordained of God to be the Judge of quick and dead."[160] And Paul writes to Timothy that "the Lord Jesus Christ shall judge the quick and the dead at his appearing."[161] The most awful descriptions of the Judgment, as it will affect the wicked, are given by the Lord Jesus Himself. In Matthew xxv. we have a series of images, in which the terrors of the "great day of the Lord" are set forth. The virgins that go out to meet the Bridegroom, the servants with their talents, the Judge dividing all brought before Him as a shepherd divideth the sheep from the goats, are warnings of the certainty and severity of judgment, and of the doom reserved for the ungodly. "The Father judgeth no man, but hath committed all judgment unto the Son."[162] As God, He has all things naked and open before Him. As man, He became subject to human conditions, and was in all points tempted as we are, yet without sin. Our Judge knows our frame, our temptations, our weakness, our difficulties; and in the Judgment, as in His life on earth, He will not break the bruised reed, or apply to men's conduct a harsher measure than they have merited. Judgment will begin at the house of God, and sentence on the ungodly will be severe in proportion to knowledge, privilege, and opportunity. Men will be judged by their works, and in this doctrine of Scripture there is no opposition to that of justification by faith. Men cannot be justified by their own works, but if Christ be in them and the Spirit of God dwell in their hearts, then, being dead to sin, they follow holiness. The distinction between the children of God and the children of the devil is this, that the former class bring forth the fruits of righteousness, and the latter the fruits of sin. "A good man out of the good treasure of the heart bringeth forth good things: and an evil man out of the evil treasure bringeth forth evil things."[163] In the Judgment the works of every man shall be brought to light, whether they be good or evil. "There is nothing covered, that shall not be revealed; and hid, that shall not be known."[164] The just shall be rewarded, not on account of their good works, but because of the atonement and righteousness of Christ; yet their works will be the test of their sanctification and the proof that they are members of Christ and regenerated by His Spirit. * * * * * ARTICLE 8 _I believe in the Holy Ghost_ The eighth article of the Creed declares belief in the third Divine Person--the Holy Ghost. The words "I believe," implied in every clause, are here repeated, to mark the transition from the Second to the Third Person of the Trinity. While this doctrine underlies all the teaching of the Old Testament Scriptures, it was yet in a measure not understood or realised by the Jews, and as Christ came to make known the Father, so to Him we owe also the full revelation of the Holy Spirit. Prophets and Psalmists had glimpses of the doctrine, but they lived in the twilight, and saw through a glass darkly many truths now clearly made known. While we speak freely of spiritual life, our conception of it is so vague that we are apt to overlook, or to regard lightly, the work of the Holy Spirit in redemption. The disciples of John, whom Paul met at Ephesus, believed in Jesus and had been baptized, and yet they told the Apostle that they had not so much as heard whether there was any Holy Ghost.[165] John tells us that even while Jesus was on earth the Holy Ghost was not yet given, because that Jesus was not yet glorified.[166] That the Holy Ghost is a Person, and not, as some hold, a mere energy or influence proceeding from the Father, or from the Father and the Son, is apparent from the passages of Scripture which refer to Him. An energy has no existence independent of the agent, but this can not be maintained with reference to the Holy Ghost. He is associated as a Person with Persons. In the baptismal formula and in the apostolic benediction the Holy Spirit is spoken of in the same terms as the Father and the Son, and is therefore a Person as they are Persons. He is said to possess will and understanding. He is said to teach, to testify, to intercede, to search all things, to bestow and distribute spiritual gifts according to His will. The Holy Ghost addresses the Father, and is therefore not the Father. He intercedes with the Father, and so is not a mere energy of the Father. Jesus promised to send the Spirit from the Father, but the Father could not be sent from or by Himself. It is said that the Spirit when He came would not speak of Himself--a statement that cannot apply to the Father; and while Christ promised to send the Spirit, He did not promise to send the Father. The Holy Ghost is not the Son, for the Son says He will send Him. He is "another Comforter," who speaks and acts as a person. The Holy Ghost said, "Separate me Barnabas and Saul for the work where-unto I have called them."[167] The arguments for the distinct personality of the Holy Ghost prove also that He is God. The baptismal formula and the apostolic benediction assume His Divinity. The words of Christ with reference to the sin against the Holy Ghost imply that He is God, and Peter affirms this doctrine when, having accused Ananias of lying to the Holy Ghost, he adds, "Thou hast not lied unto men, but unto God."[168] Paul also asserts it when, in arguing against sins of the flesh, he affirms that the body is the temple of the Holy Ghost, and also declares of it that the temple of GOD is holy. Divine properties are ascribed to the Holy Spirit. Thus _Omnipotence_ is attributed to Him--"The Spirit shall quicken your mortal bodies",[169] _Omniscience_--"The Spirit searcheth all things",[170] _Omnipresence_--"Whither shall I go from thy Spirit?"[171] Divinity is attributed to the third Person in the statement that "holy men of God spake as they were moved by the Holy Ghost,"[172] taken in connection with the other statement, "all Scripture is given by inspiration of God."[173] Jesus was conceived by the Holy Ghost, and, because of this, though born of a woman, He was in His human nature the Son of God. "The Holy Ghost shall come upon thee ... therefore also that holy thing which shall be born of thee shall be called the Son of God."[174] Each of the three Persons has part in the work of redemption. The Father gave the Son, and accepted Him as man's Sinbearer and Sacrifice; the Son gave Himself, and assumed human nature that He might suffer and die in the room and stead of sinners, and the Holy Ghost applies to men the work of redeeming love, taking of the things of Christ and making them known,[175] till they produce repentance, faith, and salvation. The Father's gift of the Son and the Son's sacrifice of Himself are of the past; the work of the Holy Spirit has gone on day by day, ever since the risen and glorified Redeemer sent Him to make His people ready for the place which He is preparing for them. It is through Him that we understand the Scriptures, and receive power to fear God and keep His commandments. He comes to human hearts, and when He enters He banishes discord and bestows happiness and peace. Then with the heart man believeth unto righteousness, and the fruits of the Spirit are manifested in his life. The love of the Father and the redemption secured by the Son's Incarnation and Passion fail to affect us if we have not our share in the Spirit's sanctification. There is a sense in which the Holy Ghost comes nearer to us, if we may so speak, than the other Persons of the Godhead. If we are true believers, the Holy Ghost is enthroned in our hearts. "He dwelleth with you, and shall be in you."[176] Our bodies become the temples of the Holy Ghost.[177] It is through Him that the Father and the Son come and make their abode in the faithful.[178] We are made "an habitation of God through the Spirit."[179] "If any man have not the Spirit of Christ, he is none of his."[180] When we consider the work He carries on in convicting men of sin, of righteousness, and of judgment, and in converting, guiding, and comforting those whom He influences, we can understand that it was expedient for us that Christ should go away, in order that the Comforter might come.[181] If we are receiving and resting on Jesus as our Saviour, then His Spirit is within us as the earnest of our inheritance.[182] His presence imparts power such as no spiritual enemy can resist. How different were the Apostles before and after they had received the gift of the Spirit! One of them who, before, denied Christ when challenged by a maid, afterwards proclaimed boldly in the presence of the hostile Jewish council, "We ought to obey God rather than men."[183] Those who, when He was apprehended, had forsaken Him and fled, gathered courage to brave kings and rulers as they preached salvation through Him. The disciples, who, in accordance with Christ's injunction, awaited the descent of the Spirit, were on the day of Pentecost clothed with power before which bigotry and selfishness passed into faith and charity and self-surrender; and there was won on that day for the Church a triumph such as the might of God alone could have secured--a triumph which the ministry of the Spirit, whenever it is recognised and accepted, is always powerful to repeat and to surpass. All good comes to man through the Spirit. Every inspiration of every individual is from Him, the Lord and Giver of light, and life, and understanding. Every good thought that rises within us, every unselfish motive that stimulates us, every desire to be holy, every resolve to do what is right, what is brave, or noble, or self-sacrificing, comes to man from the Holy Ghost. He is instructing and directing us not only on special occasions, as when we read the Bible or meet for worship, but always, if we will listen for His voice. His personal indwelling in man, as Counsellor and Guide, is the fulfilment of the promise--"I will dwell in them, and walk in them." "He will guide you into all truth" is an assurance of counsel and victory that is ever receiving fulfilment, and that cannot be broken.[184] * * * * * ARTICLE 9 _The Holy Catholic Church, the Communion of Saints_ SECTION 1.--THE HOLY CATHOLIC CHURCH In the clause of the Creed which expresses belief in Jesus Christ, He is called our Lord "And in Jesus Christ our Lord." That He is their Lord is declared by believers, when they term the society of which they are members "the Church." This word is derived from the Greek _kurios_, Lord, in the adjectival form _kuriakos_, of or belonging to the Lord--the Scottish word "kirk" being therefore a form nearer the original than the equivalent term _Church_. The Greek word translated "church" occurs only three times in the Gospels. In English the word is used in different senses, all of them, however, pointing to the Lord Jesus as their source and sanction. By "church," we sometimes mean a building set apart for Christian worship. The Jew had his Tabernacle in the Wilderness, his Temple at Jerusalem, and his Synagogue in the Provinces; the Mohammedan has his Mosque, and the Brahmin his Pagoda; but the Christian has his Church, in whose very name his Lord is honoured. Sometimes the word denotes the Christians of a specified city or locality--the Church at Ephesus, the Church at Corinth. Sometimes it is limited to a number of Christians meeting for worship in a house, as in Romans xvi. 5 and in Philemon.[185] Sometimes "Church" denotes a particular denomination of Christians, as the Presbyterian Church, the Episcopal Church. Sometimes it expresses the distinctive form which Christianity assumes in a particular nation--the Church of England, the Church of Scotland. In the Creed the Holy Catholic Church means the whole body of believers in the Lord Jesus Christ, all who anywhere and everywhere are looking to Him for salvation, and are bringing forth the fruits of holiness to His praise and glory. The Lord Jesus Christ did not, during His ministry, set up a Church as an outward organisation. He was Himself to be the Church's foundation; but in order to be qualified for this office it was necessary that He should first lay down His life. The work of building and extending, in so far as it was to be effected by human agency, must be undertaken by others after His departure. He came to fulfil the law, and so He was not sent save to the lost sheep of the house of Israel. He worshipped, accordingly, in the Jewish temple and synagogues, observed the sacraments and festivals of the Old Testament Church, and during His earthly ministry bade His disciples observe and do whatsoever the men who sat in Moses' seat commanded. "The faithful saying, worthy of all acceptation," with which the Christian Church was to be charged as God's message to the world, was not yet published, for Christ had still to suffer and enter into His glory, and the Holy Ghost had yet to be sent by the Father before the standard of the Church could be set up. While the Church rests on Christ, it is founded upon His Apostles also, to whom He committed the work for which He had prepared them, and for which He was still further to qualify them by bestowing power from on high. The gifts which He received for men when He ascended were needed to equip them for the work of founding that Church, which became a possibility only through His death and resurrection. Applying to them the redemption purchased by Christ, the Holy Ghost wrought in and with them, and crowned their labours with success. The Christian Church was set up on the day of Pentecost, when the Holy Ghost came down upon a band of believers assembled at Jerusalem waiting for the promise of the Father. Under His inspiration Peter preached the first Christian sermon with such power that the same day there were added unto the Church three thousand souls. The Church is termed the _Holy_ Catholic Church. When the epithet "holy" is applied to the Church, it is not meant that all who profess faith in Jesus Christ and are in connection with the visible Church, are holy, or that any of them are altogether holy. Our Lord taught that while in the world His Church would contain a mixture of good and bad. He likened it to a net in which good and bad fishes are caught, and to a field in which wheat and tares grow together. Though all are called to be saints, "there is not a just man upon earth that doeth good, and sinneth not."[186] The sanctification of believers is the work of the Holy Spirit, effected not by a momentary act but by degrees, and never perfected in this life. Upon all who truly receive the Lord Jesus a change is wrought by the Holy Spirit of God, which results in holiness. Looking unto Jesus, they behold as in a glass the glory of the Lord, and are changed into the same image. The transformation which they undergo extends to every part of their being. The subject of sanctification is the whole man. The understanding, will, conscience, memory, affections are all renewed in their operations, and the members of the body become instruments of righteousness unto holiness. As believers are enabled to die unto sin, they live unto righteousness. Being renewed in the inner man by the Divine Spirit, they bring forth the fruits of the Spirit. Their desire is after holiness, for they know that the restoration of holiness is the end for which Jesus died and for which the Spirit works. "Christ loved the church, and gave himself for it; that he might sanctify and cleanse it with the washing of water by the word, that he might present it to himself a glorious church, not having spot, or wrinkle, or any such thing; but that it should be holy and without blemish."[187] Now, the Church is marred by many blemishes, but her imperfection is for a time only. When her period of work and probation is accomplished she will be purged and perfected, and will be a church without spot or wrinkle. Meantime she is the Holy Church because her Head is holy, and because she is called out of the world and consecrated to the service of God. She is holy because she is the body of Christ, of whose fulness she receives, and whose graces she reflects, and because it is through her teaching, prayers, and institutions that the Holy Spirit usually works and influences men to follow holiness. The ministry, the preaching, the sacraments, the laws, and the discipline of the Church have as their end the turning of men from their sins and persuading them to follow holiness. The Christian Church is a _Catholic_ Church. The word "Catholic" means universal, and implies that, unlike the Jewish Church, which was narrow and local, requiring admission to earthly citizenship as the condition of receiving spiritual privilege, the Church of Christ is coextensive with humanity, and accessible to all. The Master's charge was that the Gospel should be preached to every creature. The Church's field is the world, and her commission sets before her as a duty that she shall go into all the world bearing the glad tidings of salvation. The disciples did not at first realise this comprehensiveness of the new faith. Even after his address on the day of Pentecost, Peter had not risen above his Jewish prejudices. It was not until after he beheld in vision the great sheet let down from heaven, and was forbidden to regard anything which God had cleansed as common or unclean, that the fulness of the Gospel dispensation was understood by him, and he discovered to his astonishment that God is no respecter of persons, but that in every nation he that feareth Him and worketh righteousness is acceptable to Him.[188] The Catholic Church is _One_. It is _the_ Holy Catholic Church, one in its origin as the household of God built upon the foundation of the Apostles and Prophets, Jesus Christ being the chief corner-stone;[189] one body, with one hope, one Lord, one faith, one baptism.[190] The distinctive marks of the true Church are allegiance to one Lord, confession of a common creed, and participation in the same Sacraments. The unity of the Catholic Church is quite compatible with the existence of separate organisations that differ in regard to details of government or worship. There is no outward organisation which possesses a monopoly of Christian truth and privilege. While all who "hold the Head" stand fast in one spirit, they are not all enrolled as members of one ecclesiastical body, or subject to the authority of one earthly ruler. Their citizenship is in heaven; not in Rome or in any city of this world. The claim asserted by the Bishops of Rome to be infallible representatives of Christ and exclusive possessors of the keys of the kingdom of heaven, to whom all men owe allegiance, and whose decrees and discipline cannot be questioned without sin, has no support in Scripture, which, while it enjoins unity of spirit, never prescribes uniformity of organisation. What the Romanist claims for the Pope is virtually claimed for the Church by some who reject Papal authority. By the Church they mean one visible body of Christians under the same ecclesiastical constitution and government, and they maintain that the right to expound with authority the will of God is vested in this body, and that private judgment must be subordinated to its decisions. To constitute the Church they say there must be bishops at its head, ordained by men whose ecclesiastical orders have come down from apostolic times in unbroken succession. Without this apostolical succession, it is affirmed, there can be no Church, no true ordination, no valid or effectual administration of sacraments. Such a definition of the Catholic Church excludes from participation in the ordinary means of grace the whole body of Presbyterians, nearly all the Protestant Churches of Europe, and all who refuse to admit direct transmission of orders from the Apostles as a primary condition of the Church's existence. Carried to its logical conclusion, it would exclude even those who maintain it; for all attempts to trace back a continuous and complete series of ordinations from modern times to the apostolic age fail to show an unbroken line. It is therefore not possible for any bishop or minister in Christendom to be certain that, in this sense, he is a successor of the Apostles. The Catholic Church is not exclusively Episcopalian or Presbyterian or Congregational. It is found in all Christian communities, and maintains its identity in all. It is said by Paul to be made up of "them that are sanctified in Christ Jesus, called to be saints, with all that call upon the name of our Lord Jesus Christ in every place, their Lord and ours."[191] As it is not the Pope that admits to, or excludes from, heaven, so it is not the prerogative of any church to bestow or to withhold salvation. The right of private judgment, asserted and secured by the Scottish Reformers, is one which we are not only entitled but bound to exercise. We must search the Scriptures for ourselves, that in their light we may prove all things and hold fast that which is good. A famous saying of Ignatius, who first applied the term "Catholic" to the Church, supplies the true description of a living church--"Wherever Jesus Christ is, there is the Catholic Church."[192] SECTION 2.--THE COMMUNION OF SAINTS This article appears to have first found place in the Creed as a protest against the tenets of a sect called the Donatists, from Donatus their leader. He seceded (314 A.D.) from the Christian Church in North Africa, carrying with him numerous followers, and set up a new church organisation, claiming for it place and authority as the only Church of Christ. Circumstances put powers of excommunication and persecution at his disposal, which he directed against those who refused to become his followers. Augustine was for a time a Donatist, but his truth-loving spirit soon discovered the real character of Donatus, and then he became his active and uncompromising opponent. It was probably as a protest against the arrogance of the Donatists, and in deference to Augustine's wish, that the clause was inserted. In this profession it is declared that the Holy Catholic Church is one not in virtue of outward forms, or even through perfect agreement among its members upon all details of doctrine, but because of the holiness of those who compose it. It refuses to excommunicate any who hold fast the form of sound words, and who adhere to one Lord, one faith, one baptism, one God and Father of all. It is a brotherhood of which all who have the spirit of Christ are members. Differences in colour, or country, or rank do not suffice to separate those who are "the body of Christ and members in particular." The spirit of Christian fellowship that marks the saints finds fitting expression in the noble words of Augustine, "In things essential, unity; in things doubtful, liberty; in all things, charity." The primary meaning of the word "saint" is a person consecrated or set apart. In this sense all baptized persons who are professing members of the Church of Christ are saints. In the New Testament the whole body of professing Christians resident in a city or district are called saints, although some among them may have been unworthy; just as in the Old Testament the prophets even in degenerate times termed the people of Israel an "holy nation," that is, a nation separated from the rest of the world and consecrated to God's service. Thus we read that Peter visited the saints which dwelt at Lydda.[193] Paul speaks of a collection for the poor saints at Jerusalem, and writes letters to all the saints in Achaia,[194] to all the saints in Christ Jesus at Philippi, and to the saints at Ephesus; and Jude speaks of the faith once delivered to the saints. In these passages the title is applied to all who were in outward fellowship with the Christian Church. The term "saint" is used also in a more restricted sense. As they were not all Israel who were of Israel, and as not every one that saith "Lord, Lord" shall enter into the kingdom of heaven, so all who are enrolled as members of the Christian Church do not lead saintly lives, and those only are truly saints who are striving to live godly in Christ Jesus, and to be holy, even as He who hath called them is holy. This clause of the Creed expresses the doctrine that Christians ought to have fellowship one with another, and that there ought to be harmonious relations and stimulating communion between their several churches and congregations--such fellowship and communion as may lead the world to believe that they are one in Christ, and that, though compelled by circumstances to assemble in different places and to form separate societies, they are, nevertheless, all members of one body, of which Jesus Christ is the Head; all stones in one building, of which He is the chief Corner-stone; all branches in one true vine, of which He is the Stem; and all animated and directed by the same Spirit. Thus regarded, the clause is a protest against the exclusiveness which often marks Christian churches, and is a recognition of the spirit of charity. The extent of this Communion of the Saints is not revealed. Much of it is spiritual, and is therefore invisible to us. God alone marks in full measure the fellowship of the churches, and is acquainted with the character and conduct of all their members. He knew the seven thousand in Israel who had never bowed the knee to Baal, and the real, though unrecognised, communion they had with one another in their common fidelity and prayer to Him; but Elijah did not know how much true fellowship he had, when he denounced the idolatries of Jezebel and pleaded with God for Israel. The ignorance of the prophet, who thought he was the only faithful Israelite, has its counterpart in our own times. God knows, but we do not know, how many faithful saints there are in the world who are in fellowship with one another because they are in fellowship with Him. We are excluded by many barriers from the knowledge of our brethren and sisters in Christ Jesus. Natural and moral difficulties stand in the way, hindering this knowledge; differences in language, in environment, in habits and modes of thought, and other limitations, disable us for truly gauging the character of those with whom we are brought into close contact. Communion is nevertheless real and true. The members of the Church of the living God, however they may be scattered and divided, have communion and fellowship with the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost; and being in fellowship with God, they are of one mind, and are knit together by common faith and mutual sympathy. They are all one with the same Head, and they have all one hope of their calling. Our Lord brought life and immortality to light, and taught men that between the Church militant and the Church triumphant there is indissoluble fellowship. Those who followed holiness in this life are saints still in the life to which they have passed. In the Epistle to the Hebrews, believers are told that they "are come to the general assembly and church of the firstborn, which are written in heaven ... and to the spirits of just men made perfect."[195] While the clause was probably inserted at first to vindicate the doctrine of communion of saints in this life, it has long been regarded as extending to a communion subsisting between the spirits of just men made perfect and followers of the Lord Jesus Christ who are still on earth. The passage last quoted justifies the inference that death does not suspend the fellowship which believers in Jesus Christ have with Him, their common Lord. Death separates the soul from the body, but it does not cut off the dead from communion with the Father or the Son. He who is the God of Abraham, of Isaac, and of Jacob is the God not of the dead, but of the living. Of the whole family of the saints, some are in heaven and some on earth, and, between those who are there and those who are here, there is communion. Since the heavenly Church received Abel as its first member, there has been unceasing fellowship between militant and glorified saints. Those who are here are shut out by the tabernacle of the body from personal intercourse with the souls of the departed, but are yet in a fellowship with them that is very real and precious. The holy dead act upon the living, and, it may be, are reacted upon in ways we do not understand. Of Abel we are told that "being dead, he yet speaketh."[196] Those whom death has taken do not cease to exert an influence on the lives of friends left behind. Their example, their good deeds, their writings, the undying consequences of what they did while on earth affect us. The veil which death interposes between us and them hinders us from witnessing their spirit life, and we know not whether, or in what measure, or how, they contemplate us. We do not go to them to ask them to intercede for us with the Father, for we believe there is but one Mediator between God and man. We do not invest them with attributes which belong to God alone; all that we are warranted to say about their relation to us is, that what is revealed does not forbid, but rather encourages, the thought that they are interested in us and concerned for our happiness. If the angels rejoice over the conversion of a sinner, are we to think that the spirits of just men made perfect are strangers to this joy? They are within the veil, we cannot see them, but we know they are in communion with God. The condition of the departed saints is one of waiting as well as of progress. They have not attained to fruition. There are doctrines which to them, as to us, are still matters not of experience but of faith and hope. The souls of the martyrs seen by John under the altar were in a state of expectation, desiring and pleading as when in the flesh they had desired and pleaded for the consummation of Messiah's kingdom; and from them the Apostle heard the cry ascend, "How long, O Lord?"[197] Saints here and saints who have passed through the valley into the unseen must surely hold many beliefs in common. Both alike believe the promises of God, and anticipate the glorious consummation for which they wait and watch, when the kingdoms of this world shall become the kingdoms of the living God. They believe in the resurrection of the body and in its reunion with the soul for ever. They have common affections. Their love is given to the same God. They have community of worship, and have communion in thanksgiving, praise, and, may we not say, in prayer for the overthrow of the kingdom of darkness and the advent of the kingdom of glory? As those who are still in the body keep the New Testament feast, they feel that there is fellowship between them and saints departed, seeing that they honour the same Saviour, glory in the same cross, partake of the same heavenly food, and look for the same inheritance of perfect blessedness. * * * * * ARTICLE 10 _The Forgiveness of Sins_ The Creed acknowledges God as the Father Almighty, Maker of heaven and earth; but there is another relation which He sustains to His creatures besides those of Creator and Father. In Scripture He is represented as the King, Ruler, Governor of the universe, who imposes laws upon all His creatures, and requires of them scrupulous obedience. With the exception of man, the visible creatures have these laws, from which they cannot swerve, within their constitutions. The planet never deviates from its appointed orbit; the insect, the bird, the beast all live in strict accordance with their instincts; but, unlike them, man possesses freedom of will and power of choice. This freedom, if rightly exercised, is a noble possession, but, perverted, it is an instrument of destruction. The lower animals cannot sin because the law of their lives is within them, constraining them to act in accordance with its dictates. Upon man, free to choose, God imposed law. With freedom of will he received the gift of conscience, which, enabling him to distinguish between right and wrong, invested him with responsibility, and made disobedience sin. That he can sin is his patent of nobility, that he does sin is his ruin and disgrace. The effect of sin is separation from God, who can have no fellowship with evil, for sin is the abominable thing which He hates, and on which He cannot even look. A breach, altogether irreparable on man's part, was made between man and his Creator when the first transgression of the law of God took place. The impulse of every sinner, which only Divine power can overcome, is to flee from God. Hence arises the necessity for reconciliation, and for the intervention of God to effect it. That the unity thus broken may be restored, expiation must be made by one possessing the nature of the being that had sinned, and yet, by His possession of the Divine nature, investing that expiation with illimitable worth, so that all sin may be covered, and every sinner find a way of escape from the power and the penal consequences of transgression. These conditions meet in the Lord Jesus Christ and in Him alone. That God might, without compromising His attributes, be enabled to bring man back into fellowship with Himself, He spared not His own Son, and the Son freely gave Himself to suffering and death for the world's redemption. In the felt necessity of atonement, which has associated sacrifice with every religion devised by man, we have evidence of the universality of sin. All feel its crushing pressure, and fear the punishment which, conscience assures them, is deserved and inevitable. The heathen confesses it as he prostrates himself before the image of his god, or immolates himself or his fellow-man upon his altar; and the Christian feels and confesses it as, fleeing for refuge, he finds pardon and cleansing in the blood of Jesus Christ. Sin is original or actual, the former inherited from our parents, the latter, personal transgression of the Divine law. Every man descending from Adam by ordinary generation is born with the taint of original sin. As the representative head of humanity, Adam transmitted to all his descendants the nature that his sin had polluted. The fountain of life was poisoned at its source, and when Adam begat children they were born in his likeness. "By one man sin entered into the world, and death by sin; and so death passed upon all men." "Death reigned ... even over them that had not sinned after the similitude of Adam's transgression." "By one man's disobedience many were made sinners."[198] Actual sin consists in breaking any law of God made known to us by Scripture, conscience, or reason. It assumes many forms. There are sins of thought, of word, of deed; sins of commission, or doing what God forbids; of omission, or leaving undone what God commands; sins to which we are tempted by the world, the flesh, or the devil; sins directly against God; sins that wrong our neighbours, and that ruin ourselves; sins of pride, covetousness, lust, gluttony, anger, envy, sloth. In many things we sin, and "If we say that we have no sin, we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us."[199] Man's sinfulness is set forth in Scripture by a great variety of figures. The word rendered "sin" means the missing of a mark or aim. Sin is sometimes described as ignorance, sometimes as defeat, sometimes as disobedience. The definition of the Shorter Catechism is clear and comprehensive. "Sin is any want of conformity unto, or transgression of, the law of God."[200] The taint of original sin, extending to man's whole nature, inclines him to act in opposition to the law of God, and every concession to his corrupt desire, in thought, word, or deed, is actual sin. Because of it he is not subject to the law of God, neither, indeed, can be. Sin is always spoken of in Scripture as followed by punishment or by pardon. There is no middle way. Salvation for man must therefore involve deliverance from condemnation. The word which expresses man's liability to punishment is "guilt," and only a religion which makes known how he may be set free from guilt will suit his necessities. We cannot set ourselves free from condemnation. "Man," says the Confession of Faith, "by his fall into a state of sin, hath wholly lost all ability of will to any spiritual good accompanying salvation; so, as a natural man, being altogether averse from that good, and dead in sin, is not able, by his own strength, to convert himself, or prepare himself thereunto."[201] Forgiveness of sin must come from God. There is nothing in nature or in human experience to warrant hope of pardon. Nature never forgives a trespass against her law. The opportunity that is lost does not return. The mistake by which a life is marred cannot be undone. The constitution shattered by intemperance cannot be restored, the birthright bartered for a mess of pottage is gone for ever, and no bitter tears or supplications have power to bring it back. Whether we repent of it or not, every sin we commit leaves its dark mark behind, and in this life at least the stain can never be effaced; and yet we believe in the forgiveness of sin through the grace of God. The forgiveness of sin is a free gift purchased by "the Lamb of God that taketh away the sin of the world," who by His Cross and Passion obtained for men this unspeakable benefit, and commanded that repentance and remission of sins should be preached in His name among all nations.[202] In order that the grace of God may bring salvation, it is required that there shall be (_a_) Repentance. In Scripture repentance is set forth as necessarily preceding pardon: "Jesus began to preach, and to say, Repent."[203] "Peter said unto them, Repent."[204] "Him hath God exalted with his right hand to be a Prince and a Saviour, for to give repentance to Israel, and forgiveness of sins."[205] Repentance begins in contrition. "Godly sorrow for sin worketh repentance to salvation."[206] (_b_) Before the good gift of God can be received, it is necessary that we confess our sin. It is when we confess our sins that we obtain forgiveness and cleansing. "If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins, and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness."[207] To produce conviction and confession is the work of the Holy Ghost. He reveals to the sinner the sinfulness of his life, and so works in him repentance. (_c_) Another requirement is unfeigned faith. "He that cometh to God must believe that he is, and that he is a rewarder of them that diligently seek Him." "Without faith it is impossible to please him."[208] "Being justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ."[209] "Let him ask in faith, nothing doubting: for he that doubteth is like the surge of the sea driven by the wind and tossed. For let not that man think that he shall receive anything of the Lord."[210] (_d_) There must be also humble, earnest resolution to be obedient to the will of God. The forgiveness secured by the death of Jesus is more than mere deliverance from the penalty of sin or the acquittal of the sinner. It is the remission of sins, the putting away of the sin. With pardon there is a renewal of the inner man. Return to holiness is secured, and the lost image of God is restored to man, so that he dies to sin and lives unto holiness. Nothing less than this will satisfy the true penitent, who asks for more than pardon, whose cry is, "Create in me a clean heart, O God; and renew a right spirit within me."[211] It is not sufficient to be set free from punishment, there must be the abiding desire to have the life conformed to the Divine will. "The grace of God that bringeth salvation" teaches and enables all who receive it "to deny ungodliness and worldly lusts, and to live soberly, righteously, and godly in this present world."[212] * * * * * ARTICLE 11 _The Resurrection of the Body_ ANIMISM--the doctrine of the continuous existence, after death, of the disembodied human spirit--has a place in the majority of religious systems; but belief in the resurrection of the body is almost peculiar to the Christian faith. In Old Testament times the hope of immortality for body and soul seldom found expression. Job seems to have had at least a glimpse of the doctrine, although his words in the original do not express it so strongly as those of the English version: "I know that my redeemer liveth, and that he shall stand at the latter day upon the earth: and though after my skin worms destroy this body, yet in my flesh shall I see God."[213] In the Psalms there are various intimations that faithful servants of God looked for a future life in which the body as well as the spirit should find place. Isaiah prophesied, "Thy dead men shall live, my dead body shall arise. Awake and sing, ye that dwell in dust: for thy dew is as the dew of herbs, and the earth shall cast out the dead."[214] Daniel still more emphatically declares, "Many of them that sleep in the dust of the earth shall awake, some to everlasting life, and some to shame and everlasting contempt."[215] The story in the second book of Maccabees of the seven martyr-brothers, who would not accept life from the tyrant on condition of denying their God, proves that they were strengthened to endure by the sure hope of "a better resurrection." One of them thus confessed his faith: "Thou like a fury takest us out of this present life, but the King of the world shall raise us up, who have died for His laws, unto everlasting life." Another of the brothers, about to have his tongue plucked out and his hands cut off, "holding forth his hands manfully, said courageously, These I had from heaven ... and from Him I hope to receive them again." Their mother, who is thought to have been one of the saints that in the Epistle to the Hebrews are said to have been tortured, not accepting deliverance, encouraged her sons to be faithful unto death by telling them that God who had given them life at the first would restore it. "I am sure," she said, "that He will of His own mercy give you breath and life again as ye now regard not your own selves for His laws' sake."[216] The Pharisees in the days of our Lord held by the doctrine, which the Sadducees, who rejected belief in angels and spirits, denied. The belief expressed by Martha when she said of her brother Lazarus, "I know that he shall rise again in the resurrection at the last day,"[217] was in all likelihood current in her time. It may have been to impress the truth of resurrection-life for the body that Enoch, before the flood, and Elijah, in later Old Testament times, were translated; but it is in the New Testament, in words spoken by the Lord Jesus, that resurrection is fully revealed. "Marvel not at this," said He to the Jews; "for the hour is coming in the which all that are in the graves shall hear the voice of the Son of man, and shall come forth; they that have done good, unto the resurrection of life; and they that have done evil, unto the resurrection of damnation."[218] In reply to the Sadducees, who attempted to ridicule His statements regarding resurrection, He said, "Ye do err, not knowing the Scriptures, nor the power of God";[219] and He put them to silence by showing that the truth of resurrection was implied in the name by which God revealed Himself to Israel, "I am the God of Abraham, and of Isaac, and of Jacob." He showed His power over the dead body, and furnished assurance of resurrection, by raising the dead. He thus restored the daughter of Jairus and the son of the widow of Nain, and raised Lazarus from the tomb four days after he had died. In His own resurrection we have the most signal pledge of our bodily immortality. When He arose triumphant from the grave and showed Himself alive by many infallible proofs, He manifested His power as the conqueror of death. It is clearly taught in Scripture that there is to be a general resurrection of the righteous and the wicked. In addition to texts already quoted, we find John declaring, "I saw the dead, small and great, stand before God, ... and the sea gave up the dead which were in it; and death and hell delivered up the dead which were in them";[220] and Paul writes to the Thessalonians, "We that are alive, that are left unto the coming of the Lord, shall in no wise precede them that are fallen asleep ... and the dead in Christ shall rise first."[221] The resurrection is associated with the second coming of Christ. It is His voice that shall awake the dead, and the angels who will accompany Him are to gather them from the four winds of heaven to the judgment-seat of Christ, "that everyone may receive the things done in his body, according to that he hath done, whether it be good or bad."[222] In resurrection, Father, Son, and Holy Ghost take part. God the Father, who "both raised up the Lord, and will also raise up us by his own power":[223] God the Son: "As the Father raiseth up the dead, and quickeneth them; even so the Son quickeneth whom he will":[224] God the Holy Ghost, who, as the Giver of life, by His special action will raise our bodies: "He that raised up Christ from the dead shall also quicken your mortal bodies by his Spirit that dwelleth in you."[225] The Lord Jesus Christ is the meritorious cause of resurrection: "By man came death, by man came also the resurrection of the dead. For as in Adam all die, even so in Christ shall all be made alive."[226] His resurrection is the pledge and the pattern of ours. "If we have been planted together in the likeness of his death, we shall be also in the likeness of his resurrection."[227] Christianity teaches that the body as well as the soul is redeemed by the Lord Jesus Christ, "the Saviour of the body."[228] We are called to glorify God in our bodies, which are temples of the Holy Ghost, and we must give account for the deeds done in and through the body, as well as for those sins which are rather of the mind and will than of the body. The body will be raised and will be judged. God will bring to light all hidden things--actions forgotten by ourselves, deeds of which the world knows nothing, as well as those which memory retains and the world knows of. Before that "great and notable day" our bodies as well as our souls must have been purged, else we shall never see God. The bodies of the unjust will rise; but theirs will be resurrection to shame and everlasting contempt. It is fitting that reward or punishment should be the portion of the same souls and bodies that have been faithful or unfaithful. Christ rose in the same body as He had before His death, and so shall we. How this is to be accomplished we cannot tell, but with God all things are possible, and faith rests with confidence in His power and in His Word. "We wait for a Saviour, the Lord Jesus Christ: who shall fashion anew the body of our humiliation, that it may be conformed to the body of his glory."[229] While the body is the same as that in which the soul tabernacled, it will undergo transformation. Christ will renew the bodily as well as the spiritual nature of His people. Every part of their being will be transformed, and their bodies, like Christ's, will be spiritual bodies. We are to be sanctified wholly; our whole spirit and soul and body preserved blameless unto His coming.[230] In this present life the body builds up a character which it will retain throughout eternity. Every act we do affects it, not for the time only, but for ever. The lost soul will assume the polluted body, and while it may shrink in horror from the union, will find no way of escape. "He that is filthy, let him be filthy still: and he that is holy, let him be holy still."[231] "Whatsoever a man soweth that shall he also reap,"[232] and the harvest will abide with him for ever. * * * * * ARTICLE 12 _And the Life Everlasting_ The great truth affirmed in the concluding article of the Creed is the Life Everlasting: "The wages of sin is death; but the gift of God is eternal life."[233] This life will be the portion of all who are acquitted in the day of judgment, and they will then enter upon new experiences. Death and hell shall be cast into the lake of fire, and the redeemed, no longer subject to imperfection, decay, or death, shall be raised to the right hand of the Father, where there is fulness of joy; to partake of those pleasures for evermore which have been purchased for them by the blood of the Lamb. It is interesting to note the gradual development of this doctrine, which was first fully expressed by Him who brought life and immortality to light. We have the statement of the writer to the Hebrews that the faith of Old Testament saints had in view the continuance of life after death in "a better country, that is, an heavenly." Whether this faith grasped the doctrine of bodily resurrection, in addition to that of the immortality of the soul, we are not told. It is remarkable that throughout the books of Moses there is an absence of reference to the future life as a motive to holy living. Prosperity and adversity in this life are set forth as the reward or punishment of conduct, leading to the inference, either that retribution in the future life was not revealed, or that it exercised little practical influence. As time passed the doctrine of everlasting life for body and soul emerged in the Psalms and in the prophetical writings, but sometimes side by side with such gloomy views regarding death and its consequences as to leave the impression that belief in it was weak and fitful. In the long period that passed between the time when Old Testament prophecy ceased and the advent of Christ, the fierce persecutions to which the Jews were subjected appear to have strengthened their faith in a future life of blessedness, in which the body, delivered from the grave and again united to the soul, shall participate. The author of the Apocryphal Book termed _The Wisdom of Solomon_ thus records his belief:-- The souls of the righteous are in the hand of God, And no torment shall touch them. In the eyes of the foolish they seemed to have died; And their departure was accounted _to be their_ hurt, And their journeying away from us _to be their_ ruin, But they are in peace. For even if in the sight of men they be punished, Their hope is full of immortality: And having borne a little chastening they shall receive great good; Because God made trial of them, and found them worthy of Himself. As gold in the furnace He proved them, And as a whole burnt offering He accepted them. And in the time of their visitation they shall shine forth, And as sparks among stubble they shall run to and fro. They shall judge nations, and have dominion over peoples; And the Lord shall reign over them for evermore. They that trust in Him shall understand truth, And the faithful shall abide with Him in love; Because grace and mercy are to His chosen.[234] Again he writes:-- The righteous live for ever, And in the Lord is their reward, And the care for them with the Most High. Therefore shall they receive the crown of royal dignity And the diadem of beauty from the Lord's hand.[235] The happiness of the kingdom of heaven is in Scripture termed "life," because it constitutes the life for which man was created. Being made in the likeness of God, his nature can obtain full satisfaction, and his powers will expand into fruition, only when he enters upon a life which resembles, in proportion to its measure and capacity, the life of God. Jesus spoke of regeneration as entering into life. Those who receive the Gospel message and walk in the footsteps of Christ are said to be born again--to receive in their conversion the beginning of a new existence, of which the entrance of the infant into the world is a fitting emblem. They possess now not only a natural life, but a life hid with Christ in God, which is a pledge to them that "when he who is their life shall appear, they also shall appear with him in glory."[236] Knowledge of God the Father and of Jesus Christ, imparted by the Holy Spirit, is said by our Lord to be Life Eternal. "This is life eternal, to know thee the only true God, and Jesus Christ, whom thou hast sent."[237] Standing at the end of the Creed, this article expresses the consummation of the work accomplished for man by the Three Persons of the Godhead. The Father created man and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life, that he might glorify God and enjoy Him for ever; and when, through the fall, man had forfeited the gift of life, God spared not His own Son, that, through His dying, pardon and blessed life might be brought within the reach of the fallen; the Son assumed human nature and suffered and died, that He might deliver men from death, temporal and eternal, and procure for them everlasting life; the Holy Ghost, the Giver of life, sanctifies the believer and makes him meet for the inheritance of the saints. All the means of grace were given for the purpose of convincing and converting men, and of preparing them for entrance into and enjoyment of the blessed life in eternity. The _Everlasting Life_ of the Creed covers more than the immortality of the soul. Even heathens grasped in some measure the fact that the spirit of man survives separation from the body; but life for the body in reunion with the soul is a doctrine of revelation. In the Pagan world various conflicting beliefs were held as to the condition of men after death. Some thought that existence terminated at death; others that men then lost their personality and were absorbed into the deity; and others that the spirit was released by death and then entered on a separate existence, possessed of personality and capable of enjoyment; but of the Christian doctrine of resurrection-life for soul and body in abiding reunion they were altogether ignorant. Those consolations which Christianity brings to the mourner were unknown. There is an interesting letter extant which was written to Cicero, the Roman orator, by a friend who sought to comfort him after the death of his daughter Julia, in which the consolation tendered strikingly marks the distinction between Pagan and Christian views regarding death. Cicero was reminded by his friend that even solid and substantial cities, such as those whose ruined remains were to be seen in Asia Minor, were doomed to decay and destruction; and if so, it could not be thought that man's frail body can escape a similar experience. This is poor comfort in comparison with the hope of glory which sustains the Christian under trial. He knows not only that his soul shall live for ever, but that the life of eternity is one in which the body too, then incapable of pain, weariness, or death, shall have part. "We know that if our earthly house of this tabernacle were dissolved, we have a building of God, an house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens."[238] Everlasting existence after resurrection will be the portion of the righteous and the wicked. Attempts have been made to explain away various emphatic Scripture statements regarding the doom of the ungodly, with the view of lessening its terrors; but, if we are to accept the plain meaning of these statements, there seems to be no reasonable interpretation of them which gives sanction to the belief that this doom can be escaped. What is called the doctrine of Conditional Immortality finds not a few advocates and adherents, who hold that existence in the future state is exclusively for the faithful, and that the sentence to be executed upon the wicked at death or at judgment is annihilation. A different belief, termed "The Larger Hope," is maintained by others, who affirm that the punishment to which those dying impenitent are to be subjected will in time work reformation and cleansing, after which, restored to God's favour, they will enter upon a life of happiness. It is a strong argument against such doctrines that the same word which our Lord employs to describe the permanent blessedness of the redeemed is used by Him to denote the punishment of the wicked. The reward and the punishment are both declared by Him to be everlasting or eternal. The same Greek word is in the English New Testament sometimes rendered eternal and sometimes everlasting. The portion of the righteous will be life--life everlasting; that of the wicked is described as consisting, not in annihilation or in terminable suffering, but in "everlasting destruction from the presence of the Lord, and from the glory of his power."[239] While this article may be regarded as bearing upon the doom of the ungodly, it is rather to be viewed as affirming the eternal blessedness of the risen saints. The everlasting life begins on earth, but is perfected only in eternity. It is sometimes spoken of as a present possession: "He that heareth my word, and believeth on him that sent me, hath everlasting life, and shall not come into condemnation; but is passed from death unto life."[240] Again it is spoken of as a reward in futurity: "He shall receive an hundredfold now in this time ... and in the world to come eternal life."[241] Our knowledge of what that life will be is very limited. Human words cannot describe it; human beings in this life cannot understand it. We know that it will arise from knowledge of God. Men will be equal to the angels who see God. "Now we see through a glass darkly,"[242] but "we know that, when he shall appear, we shall be like him; for we shall see him as he is."[243] Statements regarding the happiness of the saints are in Scripture expressed sometimes in negative and sometimes in positive terms. In the new heavens and the new earth the redeemed "shall hunger no more, neither thirst any more";[244] "There shall be no night there; and they need no candle, neither light of the sun; for the Lord God giveth them light."[245] Pain and sorrow and death can never touch them; they shall be delivered from perplexing doubts, from all misery and trouble. Care and anxiety shall be banished for ever, and God will wipe away all tears from every eye. There are also many positive statements regarding the future life. Not only will there be the absence of all that is painful and productive of sorrow; those for whom it is prepared shall enter into rest. They shall possess abiding peace, and the joy of their Lord will become their own. Their bodies shall be like Christ's own glorious body, which, when transfigured on Tabor, shone as the sun, and was white as the light. They shall be satisfied, when they awake, with the Divine likeness.[246] "They shall shine as the brightness of the firmament, and as the stars for ever and ever."[247] They shall sit down with Christ upon His throne, and shall be rulers over cities. "They are as the angels of God in heaven."[248] In the many mansions of the Father's house there will be a place for every saint. Each will be rewarded according to his works. Some are to be raised to higher glory than others--some are to have authority over ten cities, and some are to bear rule over five--but all the saints will be happy in the eternal enjoyment of God's favour, which is life; and of His loving kindness, which is better than life. * * * * * APPENDIX The, following arrangement is from Professor Lumby's _History of the Creeds_. It shows that the portions of the Apostolic Creed which do not appear in the earlier forms are very few. Irenaeus omits the conception by the Holy Ghost, while Tertullian inserts it. Neither Creed contains the first part of the fifth article, and in both the ninth and tenth are wanting. With these exceptions the substance of the Apostles' Creed was in circulation as early as A.D. 180. THE APOSTLES' CREED. CREEDS OF ST. IRENAEUS CREEDS OF TERTULLIAN (A.D. 180). (A.D. 200). 1. I believe in God the I believe in one God, I believe in one God, Father Almighty, Maker the Father Almighty, who the Creator of the of heaven and earth: made heaven and earth; world, who produced all out of nothing ... 2. And in Jesus Christ And in one Christ Jesus, And in the Word His Son His only Son our Lord, the Son of God [our [Jesus Christ], Lord], 3. Who was conceived by Who was made flesh [of Who through the Spirit the Holy Ghost, born of the Virgin]; and Power of God the the Virgin Mary, Father descended into the Virgin Mary, was made flesh in her womb, and born of her; 4. Suffered under And in His suffering Was fixed on the cross Pontius Pilate, was [under Pontius Pilate]; [under Pontius Pilate]; crucified, dead, and was dead and buried; buried, 5. He descended into And in His rising from Rose again the third hell; the third day He the dead; day; rose again from the dead, 6. He ascended into And in His ascension in Was taken into heaven, heaven, and sitteth on the flesh; and sat down at the the right hand of God right hand of God; the Father Almighty; 7. From thence He shall And in His coming from He will come to judge come to judge the quick heaven ... that He may the wicked to eternal and the dead. execute just judgment on fire. all. 8. I believe in the Holy And in the Holy Ghost. And in the Holy Spirit Ghost; sent by Christ. 9. The Holy Catholic Church; the Communion of saints; 10. The Forgiveness of sins; 11. The Resurrection of And that Christ shall And that Christ will, the body; come from heaven to after the revival of raise up all flesh ... both body and soul with 12. And the and to adjudge the the restoration of the Life Everlasting. impious and unjust ... flesh, receive His holy to eternal fire, and to ones into the enjoyment give to the just and of life eternal and the holy immortality and promises of heaven. eternal glory. * * * * * TRANSCRIBER'S CHANGES:-- Footnote 016 amended from "1 Peter iii. 1." to "1 Peter iii. 15." Footnote 198 amended from "1 Rom v. 19" to "Rom v. 19" Footnote 243 amended from "2 John iii. 2" to "1 John iii.2." * * * * * FOOTNOTES [Footnote 001: John xi. 25, 26.] [Footnote 002: Matt, xxviii. 20.] [Footnote 003: 1 Cor. xv. 1-4.] [Footnote 004: Rom. vi. 17.] [Footnote 005: Gal. vi. 16.] [Footnote 006: 1 Tim. vi. 20.] [Footnote 007: 2 Tim. i. 13, 14.] [Footnote 008: See Appendix] [Footnote 009: Rom. x. 10.] [Footnote 010: Rom. x. 17.] [Footnote 011: Heb. xi. 3.] [Footnote 012: _Table-Talk_, 1852, p. 144.] [Footnote 013: 1 John v. 9.] [Footnote 014: Heb. xi. 6.] [Footnote 015: Heb. xi. 6.] [Footnote 016: 1 Peter iii. 15.] [Footnote 017: See Handbook of Christian Evidences, Principal Stewart, chap. i.] [Footnote 018: Deut. vi. 4.] [Footnote 019: Gen. i. 26; iii. 22; xi. 7. Different views have been taken of these passages. Some commentators think the plural forms represent the plural of majesty. There is, however, no indication in the Old Testament or in ancient monumental inscriptions that sovereigns had adopted this style of speech. Nebuchadnezzar and Darius begin their proclamations with the singular first personal pronoun "I"; not with the plural "We" which modern kings assume. On the Moabite stone Mesha uses "I," not "We," throughout the inscription in which he records his achievements. Another view is that Moses, accustomed to hear of the numerous gods of Egypt, used the plural inadvertently. This supposition does not accord with any view of inspiration held by evangelical churches. The interpretation which regards the passages as early indications of the doctrine of the Trinity is simple and natural, and accords with the principle of gradual revelation which is apparent in Scripture.] [Footnote 020: Job xi. 7.] [Footnote 021: Deut. xxix. 29.] [Footnote 022: John x. 30.] [Footnote 023: John xvii. 5.] [Footnote 024: See Hodge's _Systematic Theology_, vol. i. p. 444.] [Footnote 025: Psalm lxxvi. 10.] [Footnote 026: Rom. viii. 28.] [Footnote 027: Rom. i. 20.] [Footnote 028: _Confessions_, Bk. x. chap. vi.] [Footnote 029: Luke ii. 34.] [Footnote 030: Acts viii.] [Footnote 031: 2 Tim. ii. 17.] [Footnote 032: 2 Tim. i. 15.] [Footnote 033: See _Landmarks of Church History_, by Professor Cowan, D.D., p. 16.] [Footnote 034: Isaiah ix. 6.] [Footnote 035: Matt. i. 21.] [Footnote 036: Col. iv. 11.] [Footnote 037: Matt. xxi. 11.] [Footnote 038: Matt. i. 23.] [Footnote 039: Acts iv. 12.] [Footnote 040: Phil. ii. 9-11.] [Footnote 041: John i. 41.] [Footnote 042: John iv. 29.] [Footnote 043: Matt. xvi. 16, 17.] [Footnote 044: Acts xviii. 28.] [Footnote 045: John ix. 22.] [Footnote 046: Psalm xlv. 7; Heb. i. 9.] [Footnote 047: John xx. 31.] [Footnote 048: Psalm ii. 7.] [Footnote 049: Isaiah ix. 6.] [Footnote 050: John i. 1, 14 (R.V.).] [Footnote 051: Heb. i. 1-3.] [Footnote 052: John i. 49.] [Footnote 053: John xi. 27.] [Footnote 054: John viii. 58.] [Footnote 055: Prov. viii. 22, 30.] [Footnote 056: Matt. xxvi. 63; Mark xiv. 61.] [Footnote 057: Matt. xxvi. 65, 66.] [Footnote 058: Matt. xxviii. 6.] [Footnote 059: John xx. 2.] [Footnote 060: 1 Cor. xi. 23.] [Footnote 061: 1 Cor. viii. 6.] [Footnote 062: Matt. xxviii. 18.] [Footnote 063: Matt. xi. 27.] [Footnote 064: John iii. 35.] [Footnote 065: Phil. ii. 9-11.] [Footnote 066: Acts x. 36.] [Footnote 067: Rev. xvii. 14.] [Footnote 068: Isaiah xxvi. 13.] [Footnote 069: Ques. 22.] [Footnote 070: Mark i. 1.] [Footnote 071: Mark i. 11.] [Footnote 072: John i. 1-3.] [Footnote 073: Isaiah vii. 14.] [Footnote 074: See _The Origin and Connection of the Gospels of Matthew, Mark, and Luke_, and _The Voyage and Shipwreck of St. Paul_, by Mr. Smith of Jordanhill.] [Footnote 075: Luke i. 29, ii. 19, 51.] [Footnote 076: Vol. i. p. 376.] [Footnote 077: John xix. 26, 27] [Footnote 078: John v. 31] [Footnote 079: Col. iii. 11.] [Footnote 080: Acts x. 35.] [Footnote 081: 1 Cor. i. 23.] [Footnote 082: Pearson _On the Creed_, vol. i. p. 337.] [Footnote 083: 1 Peter iii. 18.] [Footnote 084: Isaiah liii. 5. In this chapter, which all the earlier Jewish authorities understood to refer to Messiah, there are no fewer than eleven expressions which clearly describe the vicarious character of these sufferings. See _Speaker's Commentary, in loco_.] [Footnote 085: Luke xii. 50.] [Footnote 086: John xii. 33.] [Footnote 087: Matt. xx. 28; xvii. 22; xxvi. 2; John x. 11.] [Footnote 088: John x. 17.] [Footnote 089: Isaiah liii. 7.] [Footnote 090: Matt. xxii. 29.] [Footnote 091: Luke xxiv. 25, 26.] [Footnote 092: Matt. ii. 13-15.] [Footnote 093: John i. 11; John vii. 5; Heb. xii. 3.] [Footnote 094: Matt. xxvi. 39.] [Footnote 095: Heb. ii. 10.] [Footnote 096: Heb. iv. 15.] [Footnote 097: Gal. iii. 13.] [Footnote 098: Heb. ix. 22.] [Footnote 099: 1 Cor. xv. 3.] [Footnote 100: Rev. v. 6.] [Footnote 101: Matt. xxvi. 26, 28.] [Footnote 102: Rom. v. 10.] [Footnote 103: Col. i. 14.] [Footnote 104: John x. 17, 18.] [Footnote 105: 1 Peter ii. 24.] [Footnote 106: Rom. v. 9.] [Footnote 107: Rom. iii. 25, 26.] [Footnote 108: Rom. v. 18, 19.] [Footnote 109: Rev. i. 18.] [Footnote 110: Isaiah liii. 8, 9.] [Footnote 111: Deut. xxi. 22, 23.] [Footnote 112: John xix. 31.] [Footnote 113: Mark xv. 46.] [Footnote 114: Luke xxiii. 53 (R.V.).] [Footnote 115: Matt. xxvii. 63, 64.] [Footnote 116: Matt. xxvii. 65, 66.] [Footnote 117: Luke xvi. 19-26.] [Footnote 118: Mark xv. 37.] [Footnote 119: Luke xxiii. 46.] [Footnote 120: Ques. 50.] [Footnote 121: Heb ii. 17.] [Footnote 122: John iii. 13.] [Footnote 123: Heb. ix. 27.] [Footnote 124: S.C. Ques. 37.] [Footnote 125: 1 Peter ii. 24.] [Footnote 126: Heb. x. 14, 26, 27.] [Footnote 127: John i.; 1 Tim. iii.] [Footnote 128: See Principal Stewart's _Handbook of Christian Evidences_, chap. vi.] [Footnote 129: Jesus appears to have shown Himself during the forty days after His Resurrection at least ten times, viz.-- 1. To Mary Magdalene, Mark xvi. 9; John xx. 11-18. 2. To two disciples, Mark xvi. 12; Luke xxiv. 13-32. 3. To Peter on same day, Luke xxiv. 34; Cor. xv. 5. 4. To ten Apostles, Thomas only being absent, John xx. 19-25. 5. To all the Apostles, Mark xvi. 14; John xx. 26-29; 1 Cor. xv. 7. 6. To the women at the sepulchre, Matt, xxviii. 9, 10. 7. To the Apostles, and at this time probably to five hundred others, on a mountain in Galilee, Matt, xxviii. 16-20; 1 Cor. xv. 6. 8. To seven disciples at Tiberias, John xxi. 1-24. 9. To James, 1 Cor. xv. 7. 10. To the Apostles at His Ascension, Mark xvi. 15-18: Luke xxiv. 44-50; Acts i. 4-8; 1 Cor. xv. 7. These seem to be all the appearances recorded, but there were probably many others, Acts i. 3. After His Ascension He appeared to Saul of Tarsus, Acts ix. 3-18; 1 Cor. xv. 8. He was seen by Stephen also, Acts vii. 55, 56.] [Footnote 130: Acts ii. 25-32.] [Footnote 131: John ii. 19.] [Footnote 132: John xvi. 16.] [Footnote 133: For proof of this, see Mark xvi. 1; Luke xxiii. 56 and xxiv. 1; Luke xxiv. 11; John xx. 9; John xx. 11-18; Luke xxiv. 13-32; Mark xvi. 13; Luke xxiv. 37, 41; John xx. 25; Mark xvi. 14; Matt. xxviii. 17.] [Footnote 134: 1 Cor. xv. 14.] [Footnote 135: 1 Peter i. 3.] [Footnote 136: Rom. i. 4.] [Footnote 137: Acts i. 22.] [Footnote 138: Rom. x. 9.] [Footnote 139: Acts x. 40, 41.] [Footnote 140: Acts i. 8.] [Footnote 141: Matt, xxviii. 20.] [Footnote 142: Luke xxiv. 50, 51.] [Footnote 143: Heb. viii. 4.] [Footnote 144: Heb. ix. 24.] [Footnote 145: Acts i. 9.] [Footnote 146: 1 Kings ii. 19; Psalm xvi. 11; Heb. ix. 24.] [Footnote 147: Ephes. iv. 11, 12.] [Footnote 148: 2 Cor. v. 20.] [Footnote 149: Matt. iii. 16; Acts x. 38.] [Footnote 150: Ephes. i. 22.] [Footnote 151: Heb. i. 13.] [Footnote 152: Acts i. 11.] [Footnote 153: John xiv. 2, 3.] [Footnote 154: Matt. xvi. 27.] [Footnote 155: Rev. i. 7.] [Footnote 156: Matt. xxiv. 36.] [Footnote 157: Titus ii. 13.] [Footnote 158: 1 Thess. iv. 16, 17.] [Footnote 159: 1 Cor. xv. 51, 52.] [Footnote 160: Acts x. 42.] [Footnote 161: 2 Tim. iv. 1.] [Footnote 162: John v. 22.] [Footnote 163: Matt. xii. 35] [Footnote 164: Matt. x. 26.] [Footnote 165: Acts xix. 2.] [Footnote 166: John vii. 39.] [Footnote 167: Acts xiii. 2.] [Footnote 168: Acts v. 4.] [Footnote 169: Rom viii. 11.] [Footnote 170: 1 Cor. ii. 10.] [Footnote 171: Ps. cxxxix. 7.] [Footnote 172: 2 Peter 1, 21.] [Footnote 173: 2 Tim iii. 16.] [Footnote 174: Luke i. 35.] [Footnote 175: John xvi. 15.] [Footnote 176: John xiv. 17.] [Footnote 177: 1 Cor. vi. 19.] [Footnote 178: John xiv. 23.] [Footnote 179: Ephes. ii. 22.] [Footnote 180: Rom. viii. 9.] [Footnote 181: John xxi. 7.] [Footnote 182: Ephes. i. 14.] [Footnote 183: Acts v. 29.] [Footnote 184: 2 Cor. vi. 16; John xvi. 13.] [Footnote 185: See _The New Testament and its Writers_, by Dr. M'Clymont (Guild Library), p 123, note 1.] [Footnote 186: Eccles. vii. 20.] [Footnote 187: Ephes. v. 25-27.] [Footnote 188: Acts x. 34, 35 (R.V.).] [Footnote 189: Ephes. ii. 20.] [Footnote 190: Ephes. iv. 4-6.] [Footnote 191: 1. Cor. i. 2 (R.V.).] [Footnote 192: _Epistle to Smyrna_, c. 8.] [Footnote 193: Acts ix. 32.] [Footnote 194: 2 Cor. i. 1.] [Footnote 195: Heb. xii. 23.] [Footnote 196: Heb. xi. 4.] [Footnote 197: Rev. vi. 10.] [Footnote 198: Rom. v. 19] [Footnote 199: 1 John i. 8.] [Footnote 200: Ques. 14.] [Footnote 201: Chap. ix.] [Footnote 202: Luke xxiv. 47.] [Footnote 203: Matt. iv. 17.] [Footnote 204: Acts ii. 38.] [Footnote 205: Acts v. 31.] [Footnote 206: 2 Cor. vii. 10.] [Footnote 207: 1 John i. 8.] [Footnote 208: Heb. xi. 6.] [Footnote 209: Rom. v. 1.] [Footnote 210: James i. 6, 7 (R.V.).] [Footnote 211: Psalm li. 10.] [Footnote 212: Titus ii. 12.] [Footnote 213: Job xix. 25.] [Footnote 214: Isaiah xxvi. 19.] [Footnote 215: Dan. xii. 2.] [Footnote 216: 2 Maccabees, chap. vii.] [Footnote 217: John xi. 24.] [Footnote 218: John v. 28, 29.] [Footnote 219: Matt. xxii. 29.] [Footnote 220: Rev. xx. 12, 13.] [Footnote 221: 1 Thess. iv. 15, 17 (R.V.).] [Footnote 222: 2 Cor. v. 10.] [Footnote 223: 1 Cor. vi. 14.] [Footnote 224: John v. 21.] [Footnote 225: Rom. viii. 11.] [Footnote 226: 1 Cor. xv. 21, 22.] [Footnote 227: Rom. vi. 5.] [Footnote 228: Ephes. v. 23.] [Footnote 229: Phil. iii. 20, 21 (R.V.).] [Footnote 230: 1 Thess. v. 23.] [Footnote 231: Rev. xxii. 11.] [Footnote 232: Gal. vi. 7.] [Footnote 233: Rom. vi. 23.] [Footnote 234: Wisdom, chap. iii. 1-9 (R.V.).] [Footnote 235: Chap. v. 15, 16 (R.V.).] [Footnote 236: Col. iii. 4.] [Footnote 237: John xvii. 3.] [Footnote 238: 2 Cor. v. 1.] [Footnote 239: 2 Thess. i. 9.] [Footnote 240: John v. 24.] [Footnote 241: Mark x. 30.] [Footnote 242: 1 Cor. xiii. 12.] [Footnote 243: 1 John iii. 2.] [Footnote 244: Rev. vii. 16.] [Footnote 245: Rev. xxii. 5.] [Footnote 246: Psalm xvii. 15.] [Footnote 247: Dan. xii. 3.] [Footnote 248: Matt. xxii. 30.] * * * * * SOME BOOKS ON THE APOSTLES' CREED OR BEARING UPON ARTICLES THEREOF 1. _The History of the Apostles' Creed_. Anon. 1719. 2. _An Exposition of the Creed_. By John Pearson, D.D., Bishop of Chester. 1820. 3. _An Exposition of the Creed_. By Robert Leighton, Archbishop of Glasgow. 1825. 4. _The Creeds of the Church in their Relation to the Word of God_. Hulsean Lecture, 1857. By Charles Anthony Swainson. 5. _Lectures in Divinity_. By George Hill, D.D. Edinburgh, 1837. 4th edition. 6. _The Fatherhood of God_. By Thomas J. Crawford, D.D., Professor of Divinity in the University of Edinburgh. 1867. 7. _Theism_, being the Baird Lecture for 1876. By Robert Flint, D.D., Professor of Divinity in the University of Edinburgh. 1877. 8. _Anti-Theistic Theories_, being the Baird Lecture for 1877. By Robert Flint, D.D. 1879. 9. _The Historic Faith_. By B.F. Westcott, D.D., D.C.L., Bishop of Durham. 1883. 10. _The Creeds of Christendom_. By Philip Schaff, D.D., 1877. 11. _The History of the Creeds_. By J. Rawson Lumby, D.D. 1887. 12. _An Exposition of the Apostles' Creed_. By J.E. Yonge, M.A. 1888. 13. _The Foundations of the Creed_. By Harvey Goodwin, D.D., D.C.L., Bishop of Carlisle. 1889. 14. _Outlines of Christian Doctrine_. By the Rev. H.C.G. Moule, M.A. 1889. 15. _The Faith of the Gospel_. By Arthur James Mason, B.D. 1889. 16. _Rudiments of Theology_. By John Pilkington Norris, D.D. 17. _The Creed in Scotland_. By James Rankin, D.D. 1890. 18. _The Apostles' Creed_. Sermons by Robert Eyton. 1890. 19. _Christian Theism_. By C.A. Row, M.A. 1890. 20. _Christianity in Relation to Science and Morals_. By Malcolm MacColl, M.A. 1891. 21. _Primary Convictions_. By William Alexander, D.C.L., Bishop of Derry. 1893. 22. _The Apostles' Creed, its Relation to Primitive Christianity_. By H.B. Swete, D.D. 1894. 23. _The Nicene Creed_. By H.M. Thomson, M.A. 1894. 24. _Dissertations on Subjects connected with the Incarnation_. By Charles Gore, M.A. 1895. 25. _Defence of the Christian Faith_. By Professor F. Godet. 1895. THE END * * * * * 
12809	----	Quiet Talks about Jesus by S. D. Gordon Author of "Quiet Talks on Power," and "Quiet Talks on Prayer" Contents A Bit Ahead I. The Purpose of Jesus. 1. The Purpose in Jesus' Coming 2. The Plan for Jesus' Coming 3. The Tragic Break in the Plan 4. Some Surprising Results of the Tragic Break II. The Person of Jesus. 1. The Human Jesus 2. The Divine Jesus 3. The Winsome Jesus III. The Great Experiences or Jesus' Life. 1. The Jordan: The Decisive Start 2. The Wilderness: Temptation 3. The Transfiguration: An Emergency Measure 4. Gethsemane: The Strange, Lone Struggle 5. Calvary: Victory 6. The Resurrection: Gravity Upward 7. The Ascension: Back Home Again Until---- IV. Study Notes "Show me, I pray thee, Thy glory."--_Moses_. "When I could not see for the glory of that light."--_Paul_. "But we all with open face beholding as in a mirror the glory of the Lord are transformed into the same image from glory to glory."--_Paul_. "The light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ."--_Paul_. "Since mine eyes were fixed on Jesus, I've lost sight of all beside, So enchained my spirit's vision, Looking at the Crucified." --From _Winnowed Hymns_. A Bit Ahead So far as I can find out, I have no theory about Jesus to make these talks fit into. I have tried to find out for myself what the old Book of God tells about Him. And here I am trying to tell to others, as simply as I can, what I found. It was by the tedious, twisting path of doubt that I climbed the hill of truth up to some of its summits of certainty. I am free to confess that I am ignorant of the subject treated here save for the statements of that Book, and for the assent within my own spirit to these statements, which has greatly deepened the impression they made, and make. There is no question raised here about that Book itself, but simply a taking and grouping up together of what it says. Most persons simply _read_ a book. A few _study_ it, also. It is good to read. It is yet better to go back over it and _study_, and meditate. Since learning that the two books on power and prayer have been used in Bible classes I have regretted not including study notes in them. For those who may want to study about Jesus there has been added at the close a simple analysis with references. The reading pages have been kept free of foot-notes to make the reading smooth and easier. The analysis is so arranged that one can quickly turn in reading to the corresponding paragraph or page in the study notes. A great musician strikes the key-note of a great piece of music, and can skilfully keep it ever sounding its melody through all the changes clear to the end. It has been in my heart to wish that I could do something like that here. If what has come to me has gotten out of me into these pages, there will be found a dominant note of sweetest music--the winsomeness of God in Jesus. It is in my heart, too, to add this, that I have a friend whose constant presence and prayer have been the atmosphere of this little book in its making. I. The Purpose of Jesus 1. The Purpose in Jesus' Coming. 2. The Plan for Jesus' Coming. 3. The Tragic Break In The Plan. 4. Some Surprising Results of the Break. The Purpose in Jesus' Coming <u>God Spelling Himself out in Jesus.</u> Jesus is God spelling Himself out in language that man can understand. God and man used to talk together freely. But one day man went away from God. And then he went farther away. He left home. He left his native land, Eden, where he lived with God. He emigrated from God. And through going away he lost his mother-tongue. A language always changes away from its native land. Through going away from his native land man lost his native speech. Through not _hearing_ God speak he forgot the sounds of the words. His ears grew dull and then deaf. Through lack of use he lost the power of _speaking_ the old words. His tongue grew thick. It lost its cunning. And so gradually almost all the old meanings were lost. God has always been eager to get to talking with man again. The silence is hard on Him. He is hungry to be on intimate terms again with his old friend. Of course he had to use a language that man could understand. Jesus is God spelling Himself out so man can understand. He is the A and the Z, and all between, of the Old Eden language of love. Naturally enough man had a good bit of bother in spelling Jesus out. This Jesus was something quite new. When His life spoke the simple language of Eden again, the human heart with selfishness ingrained said, "That sounds good, but of course He has some selfish scheme behind it all. This purity and simplicity and gentleness can't be genuine." Nobody yet seems to have spelled Him out fully, though they're all trying: All on the spelling bench. That is, all that have heard. Great numbers haven't heard about Him yet. But many, ah! _many_ could get enough, yes, _can_ get enough to bring His purity into their lives and sweet peace into their hearts. But there were in His days upon earth some sticklers for the old spelling forms. Not the oldest, mind you. Jesus alone stands for that. This Jesus didn't observe the idioms that had grown up outside of Eden. These people had decided that these old forms were the only ones acceptable. And so they disliked Him from the beginning, and quarrelled with Him. These idioms were dearer to them than life--that is, than _His_ life. So having quarrelled, they did _worse_, and then--softly--_worst_. But even in their worst, Jesus was God spelling Himself out in the old simple language of Eden. His best came out in their worst. Some of the great nouns of the Eden tongue--the _God_ tongue--He spelled out big. He spelled out _purity_, the natural life of Eden; and _obedience_, the rhythmic harmony of Eden; and _peace_, the sweet music of Eden; and _power_, the mastery and dominion of Eden; and _love_, the throbbing heart of Eden. It was in biggest, brightest letters that _love_ was spelled out. He used the biggest capitals ever known, and traced each in a deep dripping red, with a new spelling--s-a-c-r-i-f-i-c-e. <u>Jesus is God, following us up.</u> You see, the heart of God had been breaking--_is_ breaking over the ways things have been going down on this planet. Folk fail to understand Him. Worse yet, they misunderstand Him, and feel free to criticize Him. Nobody has been so much slandered as God. Many are utterly ignorant of Him. Many others who are not ignorant yet ignore Him. They turn their faces and backs. Some give Him the cut direct. The great crowd in every part of the world is yearning after Him: piteously, pathetically, most often speechlessly yearning, blindly groping along, with an intense inner tug after Him. They know the yearning. They feel the inner, upward tug. They don't understand what it is for which they yearn, nor what will satisfy. For man was made to live in closest touch with God. That is his native air. Out of that air his lungs are badly affected. This other air is too heavy. It's malarial, and full of gases and germy dust. In it he chokes and gasps. Yet he knows not why. He gropes about in the night made by his own shut eyes. He doesn't seem to know enough to open them. And sometimes he _will_ not open them. For the hinge of the eyelid is in the will. And having shut the light out, he gets tangled up in his ideas as to what _is_ light. He puts darkness for light, and light for darkness. Once man knew God well; close up. And that means _loved_, gladly, freely. For here to know is to love. But one day a bad choice was made. And the choice made an ugly kink in his will. The whole trouble began there. A man sees through his will. That is his medium for the transmission of light. If it be twisted, his seeing, his understanding, is twisted. The twist in the will regulates the twist in the eye. Both ways, too, for a good change in the will in turn changes the eyes back to seeing straight. He that is willing to do the right shall clearly see the light. But that first kink seems to have been getting worse kinked ever since. And so man does not see God as He is. Man is cross-eyed Godward, but doesn't know it. Man is color-blind toward God. The blue of God's truth is to him an arousing, angering red. The soft, soothing green of His love becomes a noisy, irritating yellow. Nobody has been so much misunderstood as God. He has suffered misrepresentation from two quarters: His enemies and His friends. More from--which? Hard to tell. Jesus is God trying to tell men plainly what He is really like. The world turned down the wrong lane, and has been going that way pell-mell ever since. Yet so close is the wrong lane to the right that a single step will change lanes. Though many results of being in the wrong lane will not be changed by the change of lanes. It takes time to rest up the feet made sore by the roughness of the wrong lane. And some of the scars, where men have measured their length, seem to stay. The result of that wrong turning has been pitiable. _Separation from God_, so far as _man_ could make separation. There is no separation on God's part. He has never changed. He remains in the world, but because of man's turning his face away, He remains as a stranger, unrecognized. He remains just where man left Him. And any one going back to that point in the road will find Him standing waiting with an eager light glistening in His eyes. _No_! That's not accurate. He is _a bit nearer_ than ever He was. He is following us up. He is only a step off. Jesus is God eagerly following us up. <u>The Early Eden Picture.</u> But one will never get to understand this Jesus until he gets a good look at man as he was once, and as he is now. The key to understanding Jesus is man, even as Jesus is the key to God. One must use both keys to get into the inner heart of God. To get hold of that first key one must go back to the start of things. The old Book of God opens with a picture that is fascinating in its simplicity and strength. There is an unfallen man. He is fresh from the hand of God, free of scar and stain and shrivelling influence. He is in a garden. He is walking hand in hand with God, and working side by side with God: friendship and partnership. Friends in spirit: partners in service. The distinctive thing about the man is that he is _like God_. He and God are alike. In this he differs from all creation. He is God's link between Himself and His Creation. Particular pains is taken by repetition and change of phrase to make clear and emphatic that it was in the very image of God that man was made. Just what does it mean that we men were made in God's likeness? Well, the thing has been discussed back and forth a good bit. Probably we will not know fully till we know as we are known. In the morning when we see Him we shall be like Him fully again. Then we'll know. _That_ morning's sun will clear up a lot of fog. But a few things can be said about it now with a positiveness that may clear the air a bit, and help us recognize the dignity of our being, and behave accordingly. Man came into being by the breath of God. God breathed Himself into man. The breath that God breathed out came into man as life. The very life of man is a bit of God. Man is of the essence of God. Every man is the presence-chamber of God. God is a _Spirit. Man_ is a spirit. He lives in a body. He thinks through a mind. He _is_ a spirit, using the body as a dwelling-place, and the mind as his keenest instrument. All the immeasurable possibilities and capacities of spirit being are in man. God is an _infinite_ spirit. That is, we cannot understand Him fully. He is very close to us. The relationship is most intimate, and tender, yet His fulness is ever beyond our grasp and our ken. _Man_ is infinite in that he knows that God is infinite. Only like can appreciate like. He can appreciate that he cannot appreciate God, except in part. He understands that he does not understand God save in smaller part. He knows enough to love passionately. And through loving as well as through knowing he knows that there is infinitely more that he does not know. Only man of all earth's creation knows this. In this he is like God. The difference between God and man here is in the degree of infinity. That degree of difference is an infinite degree. Yet this is the truth. But more yet: man has this same quality _man_ward. He is infinite in that he cannot be fully understood in his mental processes and motives. He is beyond grasp fully by his fellow. Even one's most intimate friend who knows most and best must leave unknown more than is known. God is an _eternal_ spirit. He has always lived. He will live always. He knows no end, at either end. All time before there was time, and after the time-book is shut, is to Him a passing present. _Man_ is an eternal spirit, because of God. He will know no end. He will live always because the breath of God is his very being. God is _love_. He yearns for love. He loves. And more, He _is_ love. Man is like God in his yearning for love, in his capacity for love, and in his lovableness. Man must love. He lives only as he loves. True love, and only that, is the real life. He will give up everything for love. He is satisfied only as he loves and finds love. To love is greater than to be loved. One cannot always have both. God does not. But every one may love. Every one does love. And only as there is love, pure and true--however overlaid with what is not so--only so is there life. God is _holy_. That word seems to include purity and righteousness. There is utter absence of all that should not be. There is in Him all that should be, and that in fulness beyond our thinking. Man was made holy. There is in the Genesis picture of Eden a touch that for simplicity and yet for revealing the whole swing of moral action is most vivid. In the presence of conditions where man commonly, universally, the world around, and time through, has been and is _most sensitive to suggestion of evil_ there is with this first man the utter absence of any thought of evil.[1] In the light of after history there could be no subtler, stronger statement than this of his holiness, his purity, at this stage. And in his _capacity for holiness_, in that intensest longing for purity, and loathing of all else, that comes as the Spirit of God is allowed sway, is revealed again the capacity for God-likeness. It is the prophetic dawn within of that coming Eden when again we shall _see His face_, and have the original likeness fully restored. God is _wise_, all-wise. Among the finest passages of the' Christian's classic are those that represent God as personified wisdom. And here wisdom includes all knowledge and justice. That the Spirit of God breathed into man His own mental life is stated most keenly by the man who proverbially embodied in himself this quality of wisdom. "The spirit of man is the lamp of the Lord searching out the innermost parts." The allusion is clearly to intellectual powers. There is in man the same quality of mental keenness that searches into things as is in God. It is often dulled, gripped by a sort of stupor, so overlaid you would hardly guess it was there. But, too, as we all know, it often shines out with a startling brilliance. It is less in degree than with God, but it is the same thing, a bit of God in man. This explains man's marvellous achievements in literature, in invention, in science, and in organization. Two light master-strokes of the etching point in the Eden picture reveal the whole mental equipment of the man. The only sayings of Adam's preserved for us are when God brought to him the woman. She is the occasion for sayings that reveal the mental powers of this first man. Fittingly it is so. Woman, when true to herself, has ever been the occasion for bringing out the best in man. "And the man said, _this time_ it is bone of my bones, and flesh of my flesh; _this_ shall be called woman, because out of man was this one taken. Therefore doth a man leave his father and his mother and cleave unto his wife, and they become one flesh." ... "And the man called his wife's name Eve; because she was the mother of all living." Here is revealed at a glance the keen mental powers at work. Here is the simplicity of statement that marks the speech of strong men. The whole forest is in a single acorn. The whole of a human life is in the primal cell. The chemist knows the whole body by looking into one drop of blood. Here is revealed in one glance the whole man. Mark the keen sense of fitness in the naming of woman--the last and highest creation. Adam was a philologist. His mind was analytical. Inferentially the same keen sense of fitness guided in all the names he had chosen. Here is recognition of the plan for the whole race, a simple unlabored foresight into its growth. A man's relation to his wife, his God-chosen friend, as being the closest of life, and above all others is recognized, together with the consequent obligation upon him. She comes first of all. She becomes the first of all his relationships. The man and the woman--one man and one woman--united, make the true unit of society. Any disturbance of that strikes at the very vitals of society. And God is a _Sovereign_--_the_ sovereign of the vast swing of worlds. _Man_ likewise is a sovereign in the realm of nature, and over all the lower creation. He was given dominion, kingship, over all the earth-creation. Man is a king. He is of the blood royal. He was made to command, to administrate, to reign. He is the judge of last appeals on the bench of earth. But there is more here. The chief characteristic of an absolute sovereign is the imperial power to choose, to decide. Man was made an absolute sovereign in his own will. God is the absolute sovereign. He has made man an absolute sovereign in one realm, that of his will, his power of choice. There is one place where man reigns alone, an absolute autocrat, where not even God _can_ come save as the autocrat desires it, that is in his will. And if that "_can_" bother you, remember that it was God's sovereign act that made it so. So that God remains sovereign in making man a sovereign in the realm of his will. There every man sits in imperial solitude. Here then is the picture of man fresh from the hand of God. A spirit, in a body, with an unending life, partly infinite, like God in his capacity for love, for holiness, and wisdom, with the gift of sovereignty over the lower creation, and in his own will. Like Him too in his capacity for _fellowship_ with God. For only like can have fellowship with like. It is only in that in which we are alike that we can have fellowship. These two, God and man, walking side by side, working together, friendship in spirit; partnership in service. This man is in a _garden_ of trees and bushes, with fruit and flowers and singing birds, roses with no pricking thorns, soft green with no weeds, and no poison ivy, for there is no hate. And he is walking with God, talking familiarly as chosen friend with choicest friend. Together they work in the completion of creation. God brings His created beings one by one to man to be catalogued and named, and accepts his decisions. What a winsome picture. These two, God and a man in His likeness, walking and working side by side; likeness in being; friendship, fellowship in spirit; partnership, comradeship in service. And this is God's thought for man! <u>Man's Bad Break.</u> Then come the climax and the crisis. A climax is the climbing to the top rung of the ladder. A crisis is the meeting place of possible victory and possible disaster. A single step divides between the two--the precipice-height, and the canon's yawning gulf. It was a climax of opportunity; and a crisis of action. _God's_ climax of opportunity to man. _Man's_ crisis of action. God made man sovereign in his power of choice. Now He would go the last step and give him the opportunity of using that power and so reaching the topmost levels. God led man to the hill of choice. The man must _climb_ the hill if he would reach its top. Only the use of power gives actual possession of the power. What we do not use we lose. The pressure of the foot is always necessary to a clear title. To him that hath possible power shall be given actual power through use. This opportunity was the last love-touch of God in opening up the way into the fulness of His image. With His ideal for man God went to His limit in _giving_ the power. He could give the power of choice. Man must _use_ the power given. Only so could he own what had been given. God could open the door. Man must step over the door-sill. Action realizes power. The tree of knowledge of good and evil was the tree of choice. Obedience to God was the one thing involved. That simply meant, as it always means, keeping in warm touch with God. All good absolutely is bound up in this--_obeying God_, keeping in warm touch. To obey Him is the very heart of good. All evil is included in disobeying Him. To disobey, to fail to obey is the seeded core of all evil. Whichever way he chose he would exercise his God-like power of choice. Whichever way he chose, the knowledge would come. If he chose to obey he would know good by choosing it, and evil by rejecting it. He knew neither good nor evil, for he had not yet had the contact of choice. Knowledge comes only through experience. In choosing not to obey, choosing to disobey, he would know evil with a bitter intimacy by choosing it. He would become acquainted with the good which he had shoved ruthlessly away. With the opportunity came the temptation: God's opportunity; Satan's temptation. Satan is ever on the heels of God. Two inclined planes lead out of every man's path. Two doors open into them side by side. God's door up, the tempter's door down, and only a door-jamb between. Here the split hoof can be seen sticking from under the cloak's edge at the very start. Satan hates the truth. He is afraid of it. Yet he sneaks around the sheltering corner of what he fears and hates. The sugar coating of his gall pills he steals from God. The devil bare-faced, standing only on his own feet, would be instantly booted out at first approach. And right well he knows it. A cunning half lie opens the way to a full-fledged lie, but still coupled with a half-truth. The suggestion that God was harshly prohibiting something that was needful leads to the further suggestion that He was arbitrarily, selfishly holding back the highest thing, the very thing He was supposed to be giving, that is, likeness to Himself. Eve was getting a course in suggestion. This was the first lesson. The school seems to be in session still. The whole purpose is to slander God, to misrepresent Him. That has been Satan's favorite method ever since. God is not good. He makes cruel prohibitions. He keeps from us what we should have. It is passing strange how every one of us has had that dust in his eyes. Some of us might leave the "had" out of that sentence. See how cunningly the truth and the lie are interwoven by this old past-master in the sooty art of lying. "Your eyes shall be opened, and ye shall be as God knowing good and evil." It was true because by the use of this highest power of choice he would become like God, and through choosing he would know. It is cunningly implied with a sticky, slimy cunning that, by not eating, that likeness and knowledge would not come. That was the lie. The choice either way would bring both this element of likeness to God in the sovereign power of choice, and the knowledge. Then came the choice. The step up was a step down: up into the use of his highest power; down by the use of that power. In that wherein he was most like God in power, man became most unlike God in character. First the woman chose: then the man. Satan subtly begins his attack upon the woman. Because she was the weaker? Certainly not. Because she was the stronger. Not the leader in action, but the stronger in influence. He is the leader in action: she in influence. The greater includes the less. Satan is a master strategist, bold in his cunning. If the citadel can be gotten, all is won. If he _could_ get the woman he _would_ get the man. She includes him. She who was included in him now includes him. The last has become first. She was deceived. He was not deceived. The woman chose unwarily for the supposed good. The man chose with open eyes for the woman's sake. Could the word gallantry be used? Was it supposed friendship? He would not abandon her? Yet he proved _not her friend_ that day, in stepping down to this new low level. Man's habit of giving smoothly spoken words to woman, while shying sharp-edged stones at her, should in all honesty be stopped. Man can throw no stones at woman. If the woman failed God that day, the man failed both God and the woman. If it be true that through her came the beginning of the world's sin, through her, too, be it gratefully and reverently remembered, came that which was far greater--the world's Saviour. The choice was made. The act was done. Tremendous act! Bring your microscope and peer with awe into that single act. No fathoming line can sound its depth. No measuring rod its height nor breadth. No thought can pierce its intensity. That reaching arm went around a world. Millenniums in a moment. A million miles in a step. An ocean in a drop. Volumes in a word. A race in a woman. A hell of suffering in an act. The depths of woe in a glance. The first chapter of Romans in Genesis three, six. Sharpest pain in softest touch. God mistrusted--distrusted. Satan embraced. Sin's door open. Eden's gate shut. Mark keenly the immediate result that came with that intense rapidity possible only to mental powers. At once they were both conscious of something that had not entered their thoughts before. To the pure all things are pure. To the imagination hurt by breaking away from God, the purest things can bring up suggestions directly opposite. Through the open door of disobedience came with lightning swiftness the suggestion of using a pure, holy function of the body in a way and for a purpose not intended. Making an end of that which was meant to be only a means to a highest end. Degrading to an animal pleasure that which held in its pure hallowed power the whole future of the race. There is absolutely no change save in the inner thought. But what a horrid heredity in that one flash of the imagination! Every sin lives first in the imagination. The imagination is sin's brooding and birth-place. An inner picture, a lingering glance, a wrong desire, an act--that is the story of every sin. The first step was disobedience. That opened the door. The first suggestion of wrong-doing that followed hot on the heels of that first step, through that open door, struck at the very vitals of the race--both its existence and its character. That first suggested unnatural action, with its whole brood, has become the commonest and slimiest sin of the race. Here, in the beginning, the very thought _shocked_ them. In that lay their safety. Shame is the recoil of God's image from the touch of sin. Shame is sin's first checkmate. It is man's vantage for a fresh pull up. There are only two places where there is no shame: where there is no sin; where sin is steeped deepest in. The extremes are always jostling elbows. Instantly the sense of shame suggested a help. A simple bit of clothing was provided. It was so adjusted as to help most. Clothing is man's badge of shame. The first clothing was not for the body, but for the mind. Not for protection, but for concealment, that so the mind might be helped to forget its evil suggestions. It is one of sin's odd perversions that draws attention by color and cut to the race's badge of shame. It would seem strongly suggestive of moral degeneracy, or of bad taste, or, let us say in charity, of a lapse of historical memory. Mark the sad soliloquy of God: "Behold the man has become as one of us: He has exercised his power of choice." He tenderly refrains from saying, "and has chosen wrong! so pitiably wrong!" That was plain enough. He would not rub in the acid truth. He would not make the scar more hideous by pointing it out. "And now _lest_ he put forth his hand and take of the tree of life." "_Lest!_" There is a further danger threatening. In his present condition he needs guarding for his own sake in the future. "_Lest_"--wrong choice limits future action. Sin narrows. With man's act of sin came God's act of saving. Satan is ever on the heels of God to hurt man. But God is ever on the heels of Satan to cushion the hurt and save the man. It is a nip-and-tuck race with God a head and a heart in the lead. Something had to be done. Man had started sin in himself by his choice. The taint of disobedience, rebellion, had been breathed out into the air. He had gotten out of sorts with his surroundings. His presence would spoil his own heaven. The stain of his sin would have been upon his eternal life. The zero of selfishness would have been the atmosphere of his home. The touch of his unhallowed hand must be taken away for his own sake. That unhallowed touch _has_ been upon every function and relationship of life outside those gates. Nothing has escaped the slimy contact. Sin _could_ not be allowed to stay _there_. Its presence stole heaven away from heaven. Yet sin had become a part of the man. The man and the wrong were interwoven. They were inseparable. Sin has such a tenacious, gluey, sticky touch! Each included the other. _It_ could not be put out without _his_ being put out. So man had to be driven out for his own sake to rid his home-spot of sin. The man was driven out that he might come back--_changed_. Love drove him out that later it might let him in. The tree of life was kept _from_ him for a time that it might be kept _for_ him for an eternity. When he had _changed his spirit_, and _changed sides_ in the fight with evil started that day, and gotten victory over the spirit now dominant within himself, those gates would swing again. When the stain of his choice would be taken out of his fibre it would be his right eagerly to retrace these forced steps, and the coming back would find more than had been left. Love has been busy planning the home-coming. The tree of life has been grown in his absence to a grove of trees. The life has become life more abundant. <u>Outside the Eden Gate.</u> The story of what took place outside that guarded gate makes clear the love, the wise farsighted love that showed the man the way out that day. To tell the story one must use a pen made of the iron that has entered his own soul, and though the pen be eased with ball point, it scratches and sticks in the paper for sheer reluctance. And only the tears of the heart will do for ink. That was a costly meal. That first bite must have been a big one. Its taste is still in the mouth of the race. If that fruit were an apple it must have been a crab. There has been a bad case of indigestion ever since. If you think there were no crab-apples in Eden, then the touch of those thickening lips must have soured it in the eating--man's teeth are still on edge. The fruit became tough in the chewing. It's not digested yet. That Garden of Eden must have been on a hill, with lowlands below, and high hills above, and roads both ways. The man seems to have gotten into the lowland road, and after a bit, struck some marshes and swamps, with a good bit of thick gray fog. The first result of the break with God was _in the man himself_. Man has two doors opening into himself from God--the eye and the ear. Through these God comes into the man and makes Himself known. Through these comes all man knows of God. Both have their hinges in the will, the heart. Man gave both doors a slam shut that day in Eden. Yet they went shut _gradually_. That was the God-side of their shutting. He quickly slipped in an air cushion so the shutting might be softened and delayed, and meanwhile His presence be appealing to the man. Refusing to obey God was equal to hearing without being willing to listen. It was the same thing as looking with that reluctance that won't see, and then doesn't see. Hearing and seeing lie deeper than ears and eyes, down in the purpose, the will, the desire of the heart. Unwillingness dulls, and then deafens the ears. It blurs, and then blinds the eye. An earnest, loving purpose gives peculiar keenness to the ears, and opens the eye of the eye. Ears and eyes are very sensitive organs. If their messages be not faithfully attended to they sulk and pout and refuse to transmit messages. It is a remarkable fact that habitual inattention to a sound or sight makes one practically deaf or blind to it; and that close attention persisted in makes one's ears and eyes almost abnormally keen and quick. Love's ears and eyes are proverbially acute. One may be so wholly absorbed in something that he absolutely does not see the thing on which his eyes are turned. He does not hear the sounds that are plainly coming to his ear because his thought, back of that his heart, is elsewhere. Hearing, seeing is with the heart back of ears and eyes. God is spoken of as silent. Yet His silence may be simply our deafness. The truth is He is speaking all the time, but we are so absorbed that we do not hear. He is ever looking into our faces with His great, tender, deep eyes, but we are so wrapped up in something else that the gaze out of our eyes is vacant to that Face, and with keenest disappointment, so often repeated, He gets no answering glance. Let anybody in doubt about the strict accuracy of this do some experimenting on himself, either with outer things or regarding God. Let him obey the inner voice in some particular that may perhaps cut straight across some fixed habit, and then watch very quietly for the result. It will come with surprising sureness and quickness. And the reason why is simple. The man is simply moving back into his native air, and of course all the powers work better. This truth about the nerves of the ears and eyes running down into the heart is constantly being sounded out in the old Book. A famous bit in Isaiah puts it very clearly, and becomes a sort of pivot passage of all others of this sort. That fine-grained, intense-spirited young Hebrew was caught in the temple one day by a sight of God. That wondrous sight held him with unyielding grip through all the after years. With the sight came the voice, and the message for the nation: "Tell these people--you are continually hearing, but you do not listen, nor take in what you hear. Your eyes are open, they look, but they do not see." Then the voice said, "Make their heart _fat_, and their ears _heavy_, and their eyes _shut_." That is to say, by continually telling them what they will continually refuse to hear because it does not suit the habit of their lives, he would be setting in motion the action that would bring these results. The ears that won't hear by and by _can't_ hear. The heart that will not love and obey gets into a state of fatty degeneration. The valves that refuse to move in loving obedience will get too heavy with fat to move at all. The fat clogs the hinges. There is the touch of a soft irony in the _form_ of the message. As though Isaiah's talking would affect their ears, whereas it is their refusal to hear that stupefies the hearing organ. In faithfulness God insists on telling them the truth even though He knows that their refusal to do will make things worse. But then God is never held back from good by the possible bad that may work out of it. When Jesus came, the Jews, to whom His messages to the world were directly spoken, were in almost the last stages of that sort of thing. So Jesus, with the fine faithfulness of love blending with the keenest tact, spoke in language veiled by parable to overcome the intense prejudice against plainly spoken truth. They were so set against what He had to tell that the only way to get anything into them at all was so to veil its _form_ as to befool them into _thinking it truer_. Toward the close, His keenness, for which they were no match, joining with the growing keenness of their hate, made them see at once that the sharp edge of some of those last parables was turned toward themselves. In explaining to His puzzled disciples about this form of teaching, with a sad irony that reveals both His heart's yearning and His mental keenness, He uses more than once with variations this famous bit from Isaiah. He makes the truth stand out more sharply by stating the opposite of what He desires, making the contrast between His words and His known desires so strong as not only to make plain the meaning intended, but to give it a sharper emphasis. The result that began with ears and eyes quickly affected the _tongue_. That is nature's path. The inner road from ear and eye is straight to the tongue. The tongue is the index of man's whole being. While through ear and eye he receives all that ever gets in, through the tongue his whole being is revealed. Of course his personality reveals itself very much otherwise. In the carriage of the body. Strikingly so in the look of the eye. The body itself, especially the face, becomes in time the mould of the spirit within. Yet the tongue--what is said, how it is said, what is _not_ said, the tone of voice--the tongue is the index of the spirit. There is no stronger indication of mastery over one's powers than in control of the tongue. When God would break up man's first great ambitious scheme of a self-centred monopoly on the Shinar plains, He simply touched his tongue. The first evidence of God's touch in the re-making of man on that memorable Pentecost day was upon his tongue. The effect upon his tongue of the break with God has been radical and strange. Dumbness, and slowness or thickness of speech alternate with an unnatural sharpness. Sometimes the spittle has a peculiar oiliness that results in a certain slipperiness of statement. Sometimes it has a bitter, poisonous, acid quality that eats its way into the words. There is a queer backward movement in biting sometimes. Withal a strange looseness of speech regarding the holiest things, and the most awesome truths, and the Holy One Himself. The moment a man gets a vision of God he is instantly conscious of something the matter with his tongue. The sight that comes to his eyes, the sound to his ears makes him painfully self-conscious regarding the defect in his tongue. Moses found himself slow-tongued. Isaiah felt the need of the cleansing coal for his tongue. But man's whole inner mental process was affected. A peculiar sense of fear, of dread, is woven inextricably into the very fibre of man's being. His first reported word after that break was, "I was afraid." That sense of fear--a horrid, haunting, nightmare thing--has affected all his thinking and planning and every-day speech. No phrase is oftener on man's tongue than "I'm afraid." Isaiah's classic utterance about ears and eyes has a counterpart equally classic from Paul's pen, about the effect of sin upon man's mental processes. A few lines in the letter to the Ephesian circle of churches give a sort of bill of details of the mental steps down that slope from the Eden gate. Paul is urging these friends to live _no longer_ as they, in common with all the races, had been living, in "the vanity of their mind, being darkened in their understanding, alienated from the life of God, because of the ignorance that is in them, because of the hardening of their hearts; who, being past feeling, gave themselves up to lasciviousness to make a greedy trade of all uncleanness." Here are seven steps down. The first five are put in reverse order. Beginning where they have been, he traces the five steps back to the starting point, and then adds the two likely to follow with any who persist past this point. The start of all sin is in the setting of one's self against God. Choosing some other way than His. It is called here "hardening of the heart." The native juices of the heart are drawn away from God and dry up. In this Book the heart is the seat of both affection and will. It is the pivotal organ of life. Any trouble there quickly and surely affects the whole being. Then follows "ignorance." Of course. The heart controls both ear and eye, the two great channels inward of knowledge. The hardening of the heart locks both doors. And hard on the heels of that comes "_Alienated_ from the life of God." That is, _cut off,_ shut out of fellowship and intimacy. Life is _union with God_. Through union God's life flows into us. Union is rooted in knowledge _and_ in sympathy, fellow-feeling, a common desire and purpose. The man snapping that tying cord cuts himself off. The next step is peculiarly pathetic--"darkened in their understanding." The man has shut the shutters close, and pulled the shades down tight. Of course it's dark inside. He is unable to see. First unwilling, now unable. If the only thing that can be gotten for use as light be _darkness_, how intense is that darkness! Then comes the pitiable result of acting as if darkness were man's native air--"the vanity of the mind." That word vanity means aimlessness. The mind is still keen, even brilliant, but the guiding star is shut out, and that keen mind goes whirring aimlessly around. Sometimes a very earnest aimlessness. The man's on a foggy sea without sun or star. The compass on board is useless. But more pitiable and pathetic yet; indeed utterly laughable if it were not so terribly serious and pathetic:--this man in the dark proceeds gravely to decide that this darkness of his own making is a superior sort of light, and bows low in worship of its maker. He has even been known to write brilliant essays on the light-giving power of blinding darkness, with earnest protests at the evil of this thing commonly called light. Sometimes having carefully cottoned up the shutters that no scrap of sun light or sun warmth may get in, he strikes a friction match, and sits warming himself, and eloquently sets forth his own greatness as shown by the match, _friction_ match. Most of this sort of light and heat is of the friction sort. Then with reluctant hand, one who knows Paul's tender heart can well believe, the curtain is drawn aside for the last two stages; the grosser, gutter, animal stages, which, not always by any means, but all too commonly follow. "Past feeling!" The delicate sense of feeling about right and purity dulls and goes. The fine inner judgment blunts and leaves. The shrinking sensitiveness toward the dishonorable and impure loses its edge and departs. _Then_--pell mell, like a pack of dogs down a steep hill, follows the last--"lasciviousness," the purest, holiest things in the gutter-slime, and then, cold-blooded, greedy trading in these things. That's the picture painted in shadows of Rembrandt blackness, newly blackened, of the effect in man himself of turning away from God. Now Jesus is the music of God's heart sounding in man's ears anew, that he may be wooed back the old road to the Eden life. Jesus is the face of God, close up, looking tenderly, yearningly, into man's face, that his eye may be caught and held, and his heart be enchained. <u>Sin's Brood.</u> The second great result of that Eden break has been in _the growth of sin_. In the seventeenth century after that it was said that man's heart was a breeding place of thoughts whose pictured forms were bad, only bad, with no spots of good, nor spurts of good. A thousand years later, Moses giving the Hebrew tribes the ten commandments, adds a crowd of particulars, some of them very grewsome, which serve as mirrors to reveal the common practice of his age. The slant down of those first centuries has evidently been increasing in its downward pitch. More than a thousand years later yet, there is a summary made by Paul that reveals the stage reached by sin in his day. Probably no one knew the world of his time, which has proved to be the world's crisis time, as did Paul the scholar and philosopher of Tarsus. Himself a city man, well bred and well schooled, a world traveller, with acute, disciplined powers of observation, and a calm scholarly judgment, he had studied every phase of life cultured and lowly. He pitched upon the great city centres in his active campaigning, and worked out into the country districts. He was a world-bred man. He knew the three over-lapping worlds of his time: the Hebrew, with its ideals of purity and religion; the Greek, with its ideals of culture; and the Roman, with its ideals of organization and conquest. He is writing from Corinth, then the centre of Greek life, to Rome, the centre of the world's life. His letter is the most elaborate of any of his writings preserved to us. In its beginning he speaks of man, universally, morally, as he had come to know him. His arraignment is simply terrific in its sweep and detail. Let me pause and be measuring the words cautiously and then put this down:--the description of the latter half of the first chapter of Romans is a true description of man to-day. At first flush that sounds shocking, as indeed it is. It seems as if this description can apply only to degraded savages and to earth's darkest corners. But the history of Paul's day, and before, and since, and an under view of the social fabric to-day, only serve to make clear that Paul's description is true for all time, and around the world. There is a cloak of conventionality thrown over the blacker tints of the picture to-day in advanced Christian lands. It is considered proper to avoid speaking of certain excesses, or, if speech must be used, modestly to say "unnamable." And it is a distinct gain for morality that it is so. Better a standard recognized, even though broken. But commonly the conditions are not changed. The differences found in different civilizations to-day are differences only of _degree_. In the most advanced cities of Christendom to-day may be found every bit of this chapter's awful details, _but properly cloaked_. In European lands the cloaks are sewed with the legal-stitch, which is considered the proper finish. In lands where our Christian standards are not recognized the thing is as open as in this chapter. In four short paragraphs containing sixty-six lines in the American Revision, Paul packs in his terrific philippic. He swings over the ground four times. Nowhere does he reveal better his own fidelity to truth, with the fineness of his own spirit. Here, delicacy of expression is rarely blended with great plainness. No one can fail to understand, and yet that sense of modesty native to both man and woman is not improperly disturbed, even though the recital be shocking. Here is paragraph one: Man knew God both through nature and by the direct inner light. But he did not want Him as God. It bothered the way he wanted to live. The core of all sin is there. All its fruitage grows about that core. He became vain in his reasonings. He gave himself up to keen, brilliant speculation. Having cut the cord that bound him to God, unanchored, uncompassed, on a shoreless, starless sea, he drifts brilliantly about in the dense gray fog. Then he befooled himself further by thinking himself wise. He preferred somebody else to God. Whom? Himself! Then--birds; then-beasts on all fours with backbone on a line with the earth, nose and mouth close to the ground; then--gray-black, slimy, crawling, creeping things. He traded off the truth of God for a lie; the sweet purity of God for rank impurity. He dethroned God, and took the seat himself. He bartered God for beasts and grew like that he preferred. God's gracious restraint is withdrawn when he gets down to the animal stage. Only here man out-animalled the animals. The beasts are given points on beastliness. The life he chose to live held down by the throat the truth he knew so well. That's the first summary. The next two paragraphs are devoted to that particular sort of unnatural sin first suggested to man after his disobedience, and which in all time and all lands has been and is the worst, the most unnatural, the most degrading, and the most common. It came first in the imagination. It came early in the history of actual sin. It is put first by Paul in his arraignment here. He gives it chief place by position and by particularity of description. First was the using of a pure, natural function to gratify unnatural desires. Then with strange cunning and lustful ingenuity changing the natural functions to uses not in the plan of nature. Let it all be said in lowest, softest voice, so sadly awful is the recital. Yet let that soft voice be very distinct, that the truth may be known. Then lower down yet the commercializing of such things. Unconcerned barter and trade in man's holy, most potent function. Putting highest price on most ingenious impurity. Then follows the longest of these paragraphs running up and down the grimy gamut of sin. Beginning with _all_ unrighteousness, he goes on to specify depravity, greedy covetousness, maliciousness. Oozing out of every pore there are envy, murder, strife, deceit, malignity. Men are whisperers, backbiters, God-haters, and self-lovers, in that they are insolent, haughty, boastful. They are inventors of evil things, without understanding, breakers of faith, without natural affection, ruthlessly merciless. The climax is reached in this, that though they _know_ God, and what He has set as the right rule of life, they not only _do_ these things named, but they delight in the fellowship of those who habitually practise them. The stage of impulsiveness is wholly gone. They have settled down to this as the deliberate choice and habit of life. Man is still a _king_, but all bemired. He is the image and glory of God, but how shrivelled and withered; obscured, all overgrown with ugly poison vines. Let it be remembered at once that this is a _composite_ picture of the race. Many different sorts of men must be put together to get such a view. Sin works out differently in different persons. A man's activities take on the tinge of his personality. So sin in a man takes on the color and tone of his individuality. One man has the inner disposition against God, accompanied by no excesses at all. These things disgust him. He is refined in his tastes, perhaps scholarly and intellectual in his thinking. That inner disposition may be a sort of refined ignoring of God either defiant or indifferent. In another, the animal nature swings to the front, stronger perhaps by heredity, and, yielded to, it runs to the excess of riot. Then there is the man with the strange yellow fever, whose love for the bright-colored precious metal burns in his blood and controls every impulse and purpose. And the man with intense love of power, of controlling men and things for the sake of the immense power involved, with himself as the centre of all. There is every imaginable degree of each of these, and every sort of combination among them. The lines cross and re-cross at every possible angle in various persons. A man is apt to get money-drunk then society-drunk (with a special definition for the word society in this connection), then lust-drunk. Or, he may swing direct from money-intoxication into power-intoxication. Please notice keenly that each of these four grows up out of a perfectly normal, natural desire. Sin always follows nature's grooves. There is nothing wrong in itself. The sin is in the wrong motive underneath, or the wrong relationship round about an act. Or, it is in excess, exaggeration, pushing an act out of its true proportion. Exaggeration floods the stream out of its channel. Wrong motive or wrong relationship sends a bad stream into a good channel. But sift down under the surface and always is found the same thing. The upper growth is varied by what it finds on the surface to mingle with, but the sub-stuff is ever the same. The root always is self. The whole seed of sin is in preferring one's own way to God's way; one's self to God. The stream of life is turned the wrong way. It is turned in. Its true direction is up. The true centre of gravity for man is not downward, nor inward, but upward and outward. <u>God's Treatment of Sin.</u> God's treatment of sin lets in a flood of light on the sort of thing it is. Three times over in this summary Paul says that God "_gave them up._" As they cast out all acknowledgment of God, He gave them up to an _outcast_ mind. When they turned God out-of-doors, God left them indoors to themselves. It was the worst thing He could do, and the best. Worst--to be left alone with sin. Best, because the sin would get so vile that the man in God's image would want to turn it out, and get God back. Man never turns from sin until he feels its vileness to the sickening point. When things get to the acute stage, and a sharp crisis is on, then as a rule there will be an eager turning to the One who can cleanse and make over new; but usually not until then. Sin has a terrific gait. Give it a loose rein and man will get winded and ready to drop. Only then is he ready to drop it. Sin can't be patched up or mended. Nursing only helps it to its feet for a fresh start. The whole trouble is in the nature of the thing. The heart pumps the hot blood of rebellion. Its lungs can breathe only self-willed air. The worst punishment of sin is that left alone it breeds more sin, and worse sin. The worst of sin is in its brood. It is very prolific. Every sin is a seed-sin. The breeding process gets the sort more refined in its coarseness. "This is the very curse of evil deed, That of new sin it becomes the seed."[2] And the plain statements of the Book, and the inevitable working of man's nature, reveal all the bad results of sin intensifying indefinitely in the after-life. Jesus is God letting sin do its worst, upon Himself, that man might see its utter, stubborn damnableness, and eagerly turn from it, and back to Him. <u>A Bright Gleam of Light.</u> Yet be it keenly marked, there is a very bright gleam of light across this dark picture. In going over the story of sin with its terrific results now and afterward, one needs to be very tender, for he is talking about _men_--his _brothers_. And to be very careful not to say things that are not so. Some good, earnest people have been thinking that the whole race except a small minority were given over to eternal misery. The vast majority of men has never heard the name of Jesus. And some very godly people have seemed to think that these are lost forever. Yet the old Book of God speaks very plainly here. Its meaning can be gotten without any twisting of words. Neither the Jewish nation nor the Christian Church can be regarded as favorites of God. God has no favorites for salvation. The Jewish nation was chosen for _service_' sake. Through it there came a special after-revelation of God. Through it came the world's new Man. The Church is the repository of God's truth to-day, with its window panes not always quite clear. Its great mission is to tell the whole race of Jesus. Both were chosen for service. Every nation knew God directly at the first. And be it said thoughtfully, every man has enough of revelation and of inner light to lead him back to God. A man's choice in this life is his choice always. Any student of the ordinary working of man's mind can certify that. Whatever sort of being a man deliberately, persistently chooses to be here and now, he will be always. The only change possible in the after-life will be in the degree. Never in the sort. The Gospels speak of _believing on Jesus_, and of the bad results for those who decline or refuse to have anything to do with Him. Of course it is speaking of those who have heard of Him. There can be no believing on Jesus without hearing, and of course in simple fairness no condemning on any such grounds. The gospel message is wholly concerned with those who hear. But there is clear and plain teaching about the great outside majority of past generations and of our own who have never heard. It was a member of both Jewish nation and Christian Church, whose tongue, touched by the Spirit of God, said, "God is no respecter of persons: but in every nation he that feareth Him and worketh righteousness is acceptable to Him." That is a simple standard, yet a searching one. Anybody, anywhere, with a truly reverential thought upward, and a controlling purpose to be right in his life, will find the door swinging wide. No other badges or tickets required. This would include that remarkable woman of India, Chundra Lelah,[3] all those weary years before the simple story of Jesus brought its flood of light and peace, and all of her innumerable class. Paul puts it as simply and a little more fully in the letter to the Romans, that careful treatise which sums up with marvellous fulness and brevity the gospel he preached to the world. In chapter two, he says, "to them who by patience in well-doing seek for glory and honor and incorruption (He will give) eternal life." Note that in his review thus far he has not yet gotten to Jesus the Saviour. These people of whom he is now speaking have never heard of Jesus. They are the great majority. Mark keenly the simple description of them. It is a description, not of an achievement, but of a purpose. The absorbing aim in their lives is _seeking upward_. The seeking controls the life. The mastering spirit of these seekers is _patience, steadfastness_. They are seeking for the highest thing. They are doing what seems to them to be right, while seeking. They are doing right _patiently_. Patience! What a world of conflicting experiences in a word! Misunderstandings, breaks, slips, stumblings, failures, falls; but in all, through all, _patience_, steadfastness. Taking a fresh hold at every turn. And the gripping fingers ever learning a new tenacity. Pulling steadily up a steep mountain side, in a blazing hot sun, blinded by dust, struck by loosened rocks above rolling down, but--patiently, steadily, with dust-blinded eyes, tugging _up_. To such is given the heart's desire--eternal life. Ah! God judges a man by his _direction_, by the set of his face. He may not be far up, but his face is turned up. His heels show their backs. His toes point toward the top. That reveals the purpose, the desire of the man inside. His choice is to be _up_. And it is choice that makes character as well as revealing it. And the one thing that concerns God is the character as revealed in the purpose. There is a simple, pathetic story from mission lands, variously told, and well vouched for, of a missionary pausing long enough in a village to tell the story of Jesus to the crowd that gathered, and then pushing on. This was the first visit of a missionary to this place and so the first news of Jesus. The crowd listened eagerly with various results. There was one listener, an old man, held in repute for his wisdom, who at once accepted the missionary's story, and announced his acceptance of Jesus. His neighbors expressed their surprise at his prompt acceptance of such a new thing. The old man's quiet answer in effect was this: "Oh, I have long trusted this Jesus, but I never knew His name before." There was no change of purpose with this man, but, in the story of Jesus, the burst of light that brought unspeakable peace as he kept on in his upward tug. Yet all this will not hold back from glad sacrifice, from free giving, from eager going to foreign mission lands a single man or woman who has been caught by Jesus' Spirit. _The Master said, "Go ye_." That's enough. For the largest wealth that may be given, for the keenest sacrifice that may be endured, for the strongest life that may be devoted--that is quite enough. And if more were needed--then to go, to give, to sacrifice for the sake of helping our struggling brothers yonder know Jesus, and His wondrous sacrifice and His _great peace_. To make them conscious of the disgustingness of sin, to bring to them _a vision of Jesus' face_ to allure, and enchain, to give a man's will an earnest boost, when he _-would_ choose, but cannot seem to for the suction of sin, inherited and ever growing upon his choosing powers. God sent _His_ best. Jesus sacrificed His all in going. We'll gladly follow in such a train. Jesus is God sending His best, sacrificing His dearest, giving His most, _going Himself_ to get men started up the hill out of the bog. <u>The Broken Tryst.</u> Man's break back in Eden was very hard on God. That evening early, in the twilight, God came walking in the garden to have the usual talk with His friend. He came to keep tryst. It was the usual trysting place and trysting hour, and God had the trysting spirit. We may think He came early for this bit of fellowship. He was prompt. Nothing would be allowed to disturb this appointment. But God was disappointed. It was His first disappointment. The first one to be disappointed on this earth was God. Adam had always met Him before. We may easily think met Him eagerly, jubilantly, with glad, free, open face and clinging hands. But the man was not there this time. He failed God. He broke tryst. He stayed away. Indeed he had gone away. God didn't fail. He was there. The man failed. They had a long distance talk. God called Adam. He was not content to come to the trysting place. He must find the missing tryster. Some folk would make God a sort of hard and dry keeper of His word: A sort of trim syllogism, dry as punk. Some seem to think Him to be as they seem to be. How our poor God has been slandered by His supposed defenders! God was not satisfied to keep the appointment. _He wanted the man._ He hungered for His friend, upon whom He had imprinted His own image. His heart was hungry for fellowship. He wanted the comfort of a bit of talk. So He starts at once eagerly, insistently to find the man. That voice of God spoke out, tender, gentle, plaintive, pleading. You can just hear the soft, very soft woodsman's cry, "Hello-alo, hello, Adam, A-a-dam--here I am--waiting for you--I've kept my tryst--where are _you_?--hello-o--hello--_where_--are--you?" The voice that spoke worlds into being, that brought life and beauty to all creation, that brought instant reverence and adoration from myriads of the upper world, that voice now speaks to one, two: two who were one. All the heart of God, all the power of God, in the soft voice talking to one man. God has always been after the one man, and still is. And the breezes hushed to hear that voice with its new pleading tone. The birds stilled their song for this new music in minor mellowing tone. Silence for a moment, the breezes hushed, the birds stilled, the creation near by held its breath, God held _His heart still_, that He might catch the first response to its cry. The twilight of that day had a pathetic sight. It saw a broken tryst; a lonely God; words of fellowship unspoken. A man and woman hiding. Skulking behind trees. Trees served a new purpose that evening, not a good purpose. They never were meant to hide behind. Sin perverts the use of all things. All these weary years God has been standing wherever men are: standing, waiting, calling man back to his tryst. Among the trees, in the crowded city of man's making, He is ever calling, and eagerly, wondrously, helping every one who answers. He is so near that a reaching hand always touches Him. The voice of the heart never misses His ear. But His love and grief shine out most on that bit of a hill, outside a city wall, on the east coast of the middle-of-the-earth sea. That is earth's tallest hill. It can be seen farthest away of any. Jesus up on that hill is God calling man back to his broken tryst. <u>God's Wooing.</u> God seems to have fairly outdone Himself to get man to turn toward the old trysting place. For when a man will turn around enough to get even a glimpse of that God-Face, and a whisper of that God-Voice, he can withstand no longer. God has taxed all the ingenuity of His love to let man know about Himself. He revealed Himself directly to the whole race at the start. He has in every generation, and in every clime, on every hilltop and valley, in every village and crowded city, been revealing Himself to the heart of every man. There cannot be found one anywhere who has not heard the quiet inner voice drawing up, and away from wrong. In this world of wondrous beauty God is speaking. The glory-telling heavens, the winsome coloring of trees and all growing things, the soft round hills, the sublime mountains, the sea with its ever-changing mood but never-changing beneficence upon the life of the whole earth, the great blue and gray above, the soothing green below, the brighter colors in their artistic proportion, the wondrous blendings--surely every bush and other green thing, every bright twinkler in the blue, everything is aflame with the presence that burns but in great love consumes not. His eyes are indeed badly bothered that cannot see; his ears in queer fix that do not hear. Yet sometimes the empty shoes seem few enough. But they are ever increasing, and will yet more and more, by retail method, with wholesale result. But God comes closer yet in His wooing. The web of life's daily run, with its strange mixing and blending, shadings and tints, is of His weaving. He sits at life's loom ever watching and weaving. Were He but recognized oftener and His hand allowed to guide the skein, how different the weaving! "Children of yesterday, Heirs of to-morrow, What are you weaving-- Labor and sorrow? Look to your looms again; Faster and faster Fly the great shuttles Prepared by the Master. _Life's in the loom, Room for it_--_room_! "Children of yesterday, Heirs of to-morrow, Lighten the labor And sweeten the sorrow: Now--while the shuttles fly Faster and faster, Up and be at it-- At work _with_ the Master. _He stands at your loom_, _Room for Him_--_room_! "Children of yesterday, Heirs of to-morrow, Look at your fabric Of labor and sorrow. Seamy and dark With despair and disaster, Turn it--and lo, The design of the Master. _The Lord's at the loom_, _Room for Him--room_."[4] When men's eyes seemed unable to see clearly these revelations of Himself, God picked out a small tribe, and through long, patient, painstaking discipline, gave to it, for the whole world, a special revelation of Himself. In it, in the Book which preserves its records, in the Man who came through it, God came nearer yet. In Jesus, God told out His greatness most, and His love most tenderly. Man is the fairest flower of earth's creation. It was love's fine touch that to him God should reveal Himself best and most in the fairest flower of the eternal creation. Only man could fully appreciate Jesus, God's Man, and man's Brother. But Jesus was known only to one generation--His own generation--to one narrow strip of country, one peculiarly exclusive tribe, the very small majority of all to whom He had come. So there came to be a Book that all after-generations might know Him too. We of later generations know _of_ Jesus through the Book, in some shape or other, before we can come to know Himself direct. And so we prize the Book above all others. Not for the Book's sake, at all, of course, but because through it we come to know Jesus. With loving reverence we handle it, for it tells of Him, our God-brother. Some learned folk have been much taken up with the make-up of the Book, its paper and type, and punctuation, and binding. And they have done good service in clearing away a lot of dust and cobwebs that had been gathering on it for a long time. But we plain folk, absorbed in getting things done, do not need to wait on their conclusions. If in those pages we have found Jesus, and God in Jesus, the Book has fulfilled its mission to us. To all directly, in nature's voice, and in our common daily life; to a nation chosen for the special purpose, and through that nation and its books; through Jesus to those who knew Him, and, by a Book telling of Him, to all following, God came, _comes_ in His wooing, and looked, _looks_ tenderly into man's face. Each of these paths leads straight to God, and each comes to include the others. But chiefly in Jesus God came. Jesus is God going out in the cold black night, over the mountains, down the ravines and gullies, eagerly hunting for His lost man, getting hands, and face, and more, torn on the brambly thorn bushes, and losing His life, in the darkness, on a tree thrust in His path, but saving the man. The Plan for Jesus' Coming <u>The Image of God.</u> Man is God's darling--the king and crown of creation. The whole creation was made for him to develop and rule over and enjoy. He is in a class by himself. When he made his bad break there was just one thing left to do. God must get a new leader for His man to lead him back into all the original plan for himself. Of the whole earth man stood next to God Himself. God could not find that leader lower down. So He went higher. Jesus is God giving the race a new Leader who would withstand the lure of temptation and realize the ambition of God's heart for His darling. The man was made in the image of God, for self-mastery, and through self-mastery for dominion over all of God's creation. That was the plan for the man. That, too, is the plan for the new Man. There is only one place to go to find God's plan for the coming One. That is in the Hebrew half of the Bible. One can hardly believe, unless he has been through the thing, how hard it is to get out of the Old Testament its vision of the coming One without any coloring from the New getting into his eyes. We have been reading the Old Testament _through_ the events of the New for so long that it gives a severe mental wrench to try to do anything else. Yet only so, be it sharply marked, can the plan for the coming of Jesus be gotten, and, further, only so can Jesus be understood. One must attempt to do just that to understand at all fairly what a reverent Hebrew in prophetic times expected; what such earnest Hebrews as Simeon and Anna were looking for. I have tried to make a faithful effort to shut severely out of view the familiar facts of the gospel story for my own sake, to try to understand God's plan as it stood before there was a gospel story. This old Hebrew picture is so full of details that are found in the reality that one who has not actually gone studiously over the Old separately will be very likely to think that the New Testament details are being _read into_ the Old. If that be so, it is urgently requested that such an opinion be held off until the old Hebrew pages have been carefully examined as outlined in the study notes, that you may get the refreshment of a great surprise. It must be kept keenly in mind that there is a difference between God's plan and that which He knows ahead will occur. Sovereignty does not mean that everything God plans comes to pass. Nor that everything that comes to pass is God's plan. Clearly it has not been so. It _does_ mean that through very much that is utterly contrary to His plan He works out, in the long run, His great purpose. He works His own purpose out of a tough tangled network of contrary purposes; but in doing it never infringes upon man's liberty of action. He yields and bends, and, with a patience beyond our comprehension, waits, that in the end He may win _through_ our consent. And so not only is His purpose saved, but man is saved and character is made in the process. The plan is a detail of the purpose. There is one unfailing purpose through continual breakings of the plan. God's purpose remains unchanging through all changes. Yet here not only is His purpose unbroken, but His plan is to work out in the end unbroken too, though suffering a very serious break midway. The plan goes back to the first broken plan. There was dominion or kingship of the earth by a masterful man bearing the image and imprint of God. All this was lost. Through loss of contact with God came the blurring of the image and the loss of self-mastery. Through loss of these came loss of dominion. These are to be restored--all three. This is the key to the plan for the coming of Jesus. A universal dominion, under the lead of a Master-Man, in God's image, and through these a restoration of blessing to all the earth of men. This is the one continuous theme of the old Hebrew writings. The emphasis swings now to one aspect, now to another, but through all the one thought is a king, a world-wide kingdom bringing blessing to all creation. But if Jesus was to lead man back He must first get alongside, close up, on the same level. This was the toughest part of the whole thing. The hardest part in saving a man is getting the man's consent to be saved. There is no task tougher than trying to help a man who thinks he doesn't need help, even though his need may be extreme. You may throw a blanket over a horse's head and get it out of a burning stable or barn; or a lasso over a bull's head to get it where you want, but man cannot be handled that way. He must be _led_. The tether that draws must be fastened inside, his _will_. He must be lifted from inside. That is a bit of the God-image in him. And so God's most difficult task was getting _inside the man_ that had shut Him out. <u>Fastening a Tether Inside.</u> And a long time it took. That it took so long, measured by the calendar, suggests how great was the resistance to be overcome. A long round-about road it does seem that God took. Yet it was the shortest. The circle route is always the shortest. It is nature's way. Nature always follows the line of least resistance. The eagle, descending, comes in circles, the line of least resistance. Water running out of a bowl through the hole in the bottom follows the circuitous route--the easiest. God's longest way around was the shortest way into man's heart. Standards had to be changed. New standards made. Yet in making a standard there must be a starting point. God's bother was to get a starting point. When man was too impure in his ingrained ideas to receive any idea of what purity meant, things were in bad shape. When he was grubbing content in the gutter, how was he ever to be gotten up to the highlands, when you couldn't even lift his eyes over the curbstone? All the prohibitions of the Mosaic code are but faithful mirrors of man's condition. A wholly new standard had to be set up. That was God's task. It must be set up _through_ men if they were to be attracted to it. So God started on His longest-way-around-shortest road into man's heart. A man is chosen. Through this man, by the slow processes of generations, a nation is grown. Yet a nation only in numbers at first; in no other sense; a mob of men. Then this mob is worked upon. They are led through experiences that will make them soft to new impressions. Then slowly, laboriously, by child-training methods, the new standard is brought to them. Yet after centuries the best attained is only that their tenacious fingers have hold of a _form_, not yet the spirit. Yet this is an immense gain. By and by this is the pedigree: A man, a family, tribes, a nation, a strong nation, a broken nation, a literature, ragged remnants of a nation, an ideal the like of which could not be found anywhere on earth, and a _book_ embodying that ideal written as with acid-point in metal, as with sharpest chisel in hardest stone. At last a start was made. God had gotten a hook inside man's will to which He could tie His tether, and _draw_, lovingly, tenderly, tenaciously, persistently, _draw_ up out of the mire, toward the highlands, toward Himself. <u>The First Touches on the Canvas.</u> This old Hebrew picture is found to be a mosaic made up of bits gathered here and there, scattered throughout the Book. Some of the bits are of very quiet sober colors found in obscure corners. Others are bright. When brought together all blend into one with wondrous, fine beauty. The first bit is of grave hue. It comes at the very beginning. There is to be sharp enmity, then a crisis, resulting in a fatal wound for the head of evil, with scars for the victor. After this earliest general statement there are three distinct groups or periods of prediction regarding the coming One. During the making of the nation, during its high tide of strength and glory under David and his son, during the time of its going to pieces. As the national glory is departing, the vision takes on its most glorious coloring. The first of these is during the making of the nation. As the man who is to be father of the chosen family is called away from his kinfolk to a preparatory isolation, he is cheered with the promise that his relationship is to be a relationship of leadership and of great blessing _to the whole earth_. This is repeated to his son and to his grandson, as each in turn becomes head of the family. As his grandson, the father of the twelve men whose names become the tribe names, is passing away he prophetically sees the coming leadership narrowed to Judah, through whom the great Leader is to come. Later yet, in a story of divination and superstition characteristic of the time, a strange prophet is hired by an enemy to pronounce a curse upon the new nation. This diviner is taken possession of by the Spirit of God, and forced to utter what is clearly against his own mercenary desires. He sees a coming One, in the future, who is to smite Israel's enemies and rule victoriously. During the last days of Moses that man, great to the whole race, speaks a word that sinks in deep. In his good-bye message he says there is some One coming after him, who will be to them as he had been, one of their own kin, a deliverer, king, lawgiver, a wise, patient, tender judge and teacher. The nation never forgot that word. When John the Baptist came, they asked, "Art thou _the_ prophet?" The second group of predictions is found during the nation's strength and glory. To David comes the promise that the royal house he has founded is to be _forever_, in contrast with Saul's, even though his successors may fail to keep faith with God. It is most striking to note how much this meant to David. He accepts it as meaning that the nation's Messiah and the world's King is to be of his own blood. "Thou hast spoken also of thy servant's house for a great while to come." Then follows this very significant sentence: "And this is (or, must be) the law of _the man_ (or, _the_ Adam)." This promise must refer to the plan of God concerning the woman's seed, _the_ man, _the Adam._ At the close, when the tether of life is slipping its hold, this vision of the coming greater Heir promised by God evidently fills his eye. He says: "_There shall lie One_ that ruleth over men; A righteous One, that ruleth in the fear of God. And it shall be then as the light of the morning, When the sun ariseth, A morning without clouds, The tender grass springing out of the earth through clear shining after rain." "Verily, my own house has not been so with God; Yet hath He made with me an everlasting covenant, Ordered in all things and sure. For this covenant is now all my comfort and all my desire, Although he has not yet brought it to pass." This seems to be the setting of those psalms of his referring to the coming One. It was to be expected that his poetical fire would burn with such a promise and conception. In the Second Psalm he sees this coming Heir enthroned as God's own Son, and reigning supremely over the whole earth despite the united opposition of enemies. In the One Hundred and Tenth Psalm this Heir is sharing rule at God's right hand while waiting the subduing of all enemies. He is to be divine, a king, and more, a _priest_-king. Surrounded by a nation of volunteers full of youthful vigor He will gain a decisive victory over the head of the allied enemies, and yet be Himself undisturbed in the continual freshness of His vigor. And all this rests upon the unchanging oath of Jehovah. David's immediate heir found his father's pen, and in the Seventy-second Psalm repeats, with his own variations, his father's vision of the coming greater Heir. While there is repetition of the kingdom being world-wide and unending, with all nations in subjection, the chief emphasis is put upon the blessing to that great majority--the poor. They are to be freed from all oppression, to have full justice done them, with plenty of food to eat, and increased length of life. That David's expectation had thoroughly permeated his circle is shown in the joyous Forty-fifth Psalm, written by one of the court musicians. It addresses the coming One as more than human, having great beauty and graciousness, reigning in righteousness, victoriously, with a queen of great beauty, and a princely posterity for unending generations. <u>A Full-length Picture in Colors.</u> These are but the beginnings. It is in the prophetic books, the third of the groups, that the full picture with its brightest coloring is found. The picture is not only winsome beyond all comparison and glorious, but stupendous in its conception and its sweep. It is most notable that, as the flood-tide of the nation's prosperity ebbs from its highest mark, the vision to the prophetic eye of a coming glory grows steadily in brightness and in distinctness. As the great kings go, the great prophets come. It is to them we must turn for the full-length picture. The one _continuous_ subject of the prophets is the coming King and kingdom and attendant events. Immediate historical events furnish the setting, but with a continual swinging to the coming future greatness. The yellow glory light of the coming day is never out of the prophetic sky. Its reflection is never out of the prophetic eye. Jeremiah is the one most absorbed in the boiling of the political pot of his own strenuous time, but even he at times lifts his head and gets such glimpses of the coming glory as make him mix some rose tincture with the jet black ink he uses. The common thread running through the fabric of the prophetic books clear from Isaiah to Malachi is the phrase "in that day." Sometimes it thickens into "the day of the Lord," "the great day of the Lord," "Jehovah hath a great day," "at that time." About this thread is woven in turn the whole series of stirring scenes and events that are to mark the coming time. Sometimes it is of local application; most times of the future time, and a few times the meaning slides from one to the other, touching both. Over all of these pages is the shadow of _Somebody_ coming down the aisle of the ages, who is to be the world's Master. The figure of a man, large to gigantic size, majestic, yet kindly as well as kingly, looms out through these lines before the reader's face. The old idea of God Himself dwelling in the midst of the people, sharing their life, made familiar by Eden, by the flame-tipped mount and the glory-filled tent, comes out again. For this coming One is said to be God Himself. But more than that He is to be a man, and a _son_ of man; man bred of man. The blending of the two, God and man, is pointed to in the unprecedented thing of a pure virgin birth for this one. God and a pure maiden join themselves in His coming. He is to be of native Hebrew stock, in direct descent from the great David, and born in David's native village. Of course He is to be a king as was David, but unlike that ancestor, to be not only a king, but a priest, and a preacher and teacher. The _kingdom_ he will set up will be like Himself in its blending of the human and divine. Its origin is not human, but divine. The _capital_ is to be Zion or Jerusalem. It will be marked by the glorious presence of God Himself visibly present to all eyes. The _characteristics_ of the kingdom are of peculiar attractiveness, at any time, to any people of this poor old blood-stained, gun-ploughed battle-field of an earth. The stronger traits that men commonly think of as desirable are combined with traits that have been reckoned by men of all generations as absurdly, unpractically idealistic. There will be vengeance upon all enemies, who have been using Israel as a common football, and great victory. Yet, strangely, these will be gotten _without the use of violent force_, and will be followed by great peace. The kingdom is to be established in loving-kindness and marked to an unparalleled degree by a sense of right and justice to all. This feature is emphasized over and over again, with refreshing frequency to those so eager for such a revolutionary change in their affairs. Absolute gentle fairness and impartiality will decide all difficulties arising. Even the most friendless and the most obnoxious thing will be fairly judged. That great universal majority, _the poor_, will be especially guarded and cared for. There will be no hungry people, nor cold, nor poorly clad; no unemployed, begging for a chance to earn a dry crust, and no workers fighting for a fair share of the fruit of their sweat-wet toil. But there are tenderer touches yet upon this canvas. Broken hearts will be healed up, prison doors unhung, broken family circles complete again. It is to be a time of great rejoicing by the common people. Yet all this will be brought about, not immediately, but gradually, following the natural law of growth; though the beginning will be marked by a great crisis, coming suddenly. The effect upon Israel _nationally_ is to be tremendous, sweepingly reversing the conditions under which most of these predictions are made. Israel is to become a Spirit-baptized nation, wholly swayed by the Spirit of God, and that gracious sway never to be withdrawn. All judgments for her sins are removed and all impurity thoroughly cleansed away. Possession of their own land is assured. And the capital city is to become a _holy_ place from which, in common with the whole land, all impurity has been cleansed away. All weakness and disability are gone, and full freedom from the exactions of her former enemies to be enjoyed. Not only is Israel to be at peace with all nations, but, far more, is to have the _leadership_ of the nations of the earth, and leadership of the highest sort--in a world-wide spiritual movement, in the day when the Spirit of God is to be poured out upon all flesh. This leadership is to be a glorious and absolute supremacy among all the nations of the earth. And yet this is not to be by man's method of conquest, but of their own earnest accord all nations will come a-running eagerly, voluntarily, with all their wealth and resources for the upbuilding and service of Israel. In that time the Hebrew capital Jerusalem will likewise be the capital of the earth. No less radical and sweeping will be the changes in Israel _personally_, individually. The people are to be _made over new within_. The modern word for this sort of thing is regeneration. The old-fashioned word is a _new heart--a new spirit_. The change is to be at the _core_; a change of the sort. With this will come a marked spirit of devotion to God, and a peculiar open-mindedness to the truth. There will be an absence of all sickness and a decided increase in length of life and great increase in numbers. There will be no longer any disappointment in plans, and the _sense_ of _slavish fear_, which is universal, not only with all the race, but through all time, will be utterly absent. Israel is to be a nation of persons with thrilled hearts and radiant faces. <u>Back to Eden.</u> The effect upon _all the nations_ of the earth is a large part of the background of the picture. Through Israel's advancement under the new order, every other nation is to come back to God. The outpouring of the Spirit upon Israel is to be followed by an outpouring upon _all_ flesh. There are the two outpourings of God's Spirit in these old prophetic pages. This will be followed by a universal, voluntary coming to Israel for religious instruction. She becomes the teacher of the nations regarding God, until by and by the whole earth shall be filled with the knowledge of the only God. Her influence upon them for good will be as the heavy fertilizing eastern dews and the life-giving showers are to vegetation. But further yet, Israel is to be the _only_ medium of God's blessing upon the nations--the only channel. Those refusing her leadership will, for lack of vital sap, die of dry rot. The wondrous blessing enjoyed by this central nation, the unhingeing of dungeon doors, the opening of blind eyes, the mellowing of all the hard conditions of life, the reign of simple, full justice to all, is to be shared with all the nations. Israel's peace with all nations is to become a universal peace between and among all nations. But there's still more. There are to follow certain radical changes in the realm of _nature_. Splendid rivers of water are to flow through Jerusalem, necessitating changes in the formation of the land there. The fortress capital of the Jews strongly entrenched among the Judean hills is to become, as the world's metropolis, a mighty city, with rivers to float the earth's commerce. The light of the sun and moon will be greatly increased, and yet this greatly intensified light will become at Jerusalem a shadow cast by the greater light of the presence of God. A devout Hebrew would associate this back with the light of the Presence-cloud in the Arabian barrens. While the devout Christian will likely, quickly think forward from that to the light that was one time as the sun, and, again, above the sun's brightness. Naturally, with this comes a renewed fertility of the earth's soil, and the removal of the curse upon vegetation. Before the healing light and heat the poisonous growth, the blight of drought and of untempered heat disappear. There is to be a new earth and above it a new heaven. To complete the picture, the _animal_ creation is to undergo changes as radical as these. Beasts dangerous because of ferocity and because of treachery and poisonous qualities will be wholly changed. Meat-eating beasts will change their habit of diet, and eat grain and herbs. There will be a mutual cessation of cruelty to animals by man and of danger to man from animals, for all violence will have ceased. And then the climax is capped by repeated assurances that this marvellous kingdom will be as extensive as the earth and absolutely unending. The whole thing, be it keenly noticed, is simply a return to the original condition. In the Eden garden was the presence of God, a masterful man in the likeness of God, with full dominion over all creation. There was full accord in all nature, and perfect fellowship between man and nature. All this is to come to pass through the coming One. He is the key that unlocks this wondrous future. Through all, above all, growing ever bigger, is the shadowy majestic figure of _a Man coming._ His personal characteristics make Him very attractive and winsome. He will be of unusual mental keenness both in understanding and in wisdom, combined with courage of a high order, and, above all, dominated by a deep reverential, a keenly alert, love for God. He will be beautiful in person and, in sharp contrast with earth's kings, while marked personally with that fine dignity and majesty unconscious of itself, will be gentle and unpretentious in His bearing. His relations with God are direct and very intimate, being personally trained and taught by Him. Backed by all of His omnipotence, He will be charged with the carrying out of His great plans for the chosen people and through them for the world. In a fine touch it is specially said that "He will judge the _poor_." Poor folk, who haven't money to employ lawyers to guard their interests, and haven't time for much education to know better how to protect themselves against those who would take advantage of them--the _poor_, that's the overwhelming majority of the whole world--He will be _their_ judge. They will have a friend on the bench. But He will have this enormous advantage in judging all men, poor and otherwise, that He will not need to decide by what folk tell Him, nor by outside things. He will be able to read down into the motives and back into the life. Such is the plan for the coming One outlined in these old pages. To many a modern all this must seem like the wildest dream of an utterly unpractical enthusiast. Yet, mark it keenly, this is the conception of this old Hebrew book that has been, and is, the world's standard of morals and of wisdom. The book revered above all others by the most thoughtful men, of all shades of belief. It is striking how the parts of this stupendous conception fit and hold together. There is a mature symmetry about the whole scheme. For instance, the changes in the light of sun and moon run parallel with the changes in growth and in the healthfulness and longer lives of man. Increased light removes both disease and its cause, and gives new life and lengthened life. Surely these Hebrews are a great people _in their visions_. And a vision is an essential of greatness. Yet this sublime conception of their future is not regarded as a visionary dream, but calmly declared to be the revealed plan of God for them, and through them for the earth. And that, too, not by any one man, but successively through many generations of men. The prophetic spirit of the nation in the midst of terrible disaster and of moral degradation never loses faith in its ultimate greatness, through the fulfilling of its mission to the nations of the earth. Is it to be wondered at that the devout Israelite, who believed in his book and its vision, pitched his tent on the hilltop, with his eye ever scanning the eastern horizon, for the figure of the coming One? And when eyes grown dim for the long looking believed that at last that figure was seen, the heart breathed out its grateful relief in "Now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace, for my eyes have seen." <u>Strange Dark Shadowings.</u> But, too, there is in this vision of glory something very different, so mixed in that it won't come out. There are dark shadows from the first touch upon the canvas. Always there is a bitter, malignant enemy. There is decisive victory, but it comes only after sharp, hard, long-continued fighting. But in the latter parts, that is, in David's time, and intensifying in the later pages, there is something darker yet. Through these lines run forebodings, strange, weird, sad forebodings of evil. There are dark gray threads, inky black threads, that do not harmonize with the pattern being woven. And the weavers notice it, and wonder, and yet are under a strange impulse to weave on without understanding. Their coming One is to be a king, but there is the distinct consciousness that there would be for Him terrible experiences through which He must pass, and to which He would yield on His way to the throne. The very conception seems to involve a contradiction which puzzles these men who write them down. Like a lower minor strain running through some great piece of music are the few indications of what God fore_knew_, though He did not foreplan, would happen to Jesus. A sharp line must always be drawn between what God plans and what He knows will happen. The soft sobbing of what God could see ahead runs as a minor sad cadence through the story of His plans. Sometimes these forebodings are _acted out_. In the light of the Gospels we can easily see very striking likenesses between the experiences in which keen suffering precedes great victory, of such _national leaders_ as Joseph and David, and the experiences of Jesus. Here is _God's_ plan of atonement by blood, involving suffering, but with no such accompaniments of hatred and cruelty as Jesus went through. Read backward, Jesus' experience on the cross is seen to bear striking resemblances, in part, to this old scheme of atonement; yet only in part: the parts concerning His character and the results; but not the _manner_ of his death, nor the _spirit_ of the actors. Then there are the few direct specific passages predicting a stormy trip for the king before the haven is reached. There is a vividness of detail in the very language here, that catches us, familiar with after events, as it could not those who first heard. There is the Twenty-second Psalm, with its broken sentences, as though blurted out between heart-breaking sobs; and then the wondrous change, in the latter part, to victory _through_ this terrible experience. And the scanty but vivid lines in the Sixty-ninth Psalm. There is that great throbbing fifty-third of Isaiah, with its beginning back in the close of the fifty-second, and the striking ahead of its key-note in the fiftieth chapter. Daniel listens with awe deepening ever more as Gabriel tells him that the coming Prince is to be "_cut off_." To the returned exiles rebuilding the temple Zechariah acts out a parable in which Jehovah is priced at thirty pieces of silver, the cost of a common slave. And a bit later God speaks of a time when "they shall look upon Me (or Him) whom they _have pierced_." And later yet, a still more significant phrase is used, as identifying the divine character of the sufferer, where God speaks of a sword being used "against the man that is _My Fellow_," adding, "Strike the shepherd, and the sheep shall be scattered." It is God's Fellow--one on a par with Himself--against whom the opposition is directed. Such is the great vision in these Hebrew pages of the plan for the coming One. There is a throne on a high mountain peak bathed in wondrous sublime glory, but the writers are puzzled at a dark valley of the shadow of death through which the king seems to be obliged to pick His way up to the throne. Jesus is to be God's new Man leading man back on the road into the divine image again, with full mastery of his masterly powers, and through mastery into full dominion again; but the road back seems to be _contested_, and the new Man gets badly scarred as He fights through and up to victory. The Tragic Break in the Plan <u>The Jerusalem Climate.</u> Then _Jesus_ came. His coming was greeted with great gladness above, and great silence below. Above, the stars sent a special messenger to bid Him welcome to the earth they lightened and brightened. Below, the rusty hinges of earth's inn refused to swing for Him. So man failing, the lower creation shared room with Him. Above, was the sweetest music, the music of heaven. Three times the music of heaven is mentioned: at the creation, at this coming of Jesus, at the coming crowning of Jesus in John's Revelation. Below, the only music was that of the babe's holy young mother, God's chosen one to mother His Son, crooning to her babe; and the gentle lowing in minor key of the oxen whose stall He shared. Above, the great glory shining, the messenger of God speaking a message of peace and love. Below, only darkness and silence. Among the cultured leaders of the city of David, and of Solomon, and of God's once glorified temple, there were no ears for the message, nor eyes for the glory. They had gone deaf and blind Godward long before. To them came no message, for no door was open. To simple men of nature who lived with the stars and the hills and the sheep, came the new shining of the glory, and the wondrous messenger and message. Their doors were open. They practised looking up. Of course neither city nor country mattered, nor matters. God always speaks into the upturned ear and looks into the upturned face. And so Jesus came. With all of its contrasts it was a winsome coming. A pure young mother nursing her babe; the babe with its sweet wondrous face, a fresh act of God indeed; the simple unselfish cattle; the bright stars; the Glory shining; the sudden flood of music; the Lord's messenger; the message--a very winsome coming. He came into the peculiar climate of Jerusalem. Jerusalem is Judea. Out of the Babylonian remnant of Israel had come great men, true leaders, with great zeal for the city, and the temple, and the temple service, and for the law. They made the mould in which this later Jerusalem was cast. But that mould retaining its old form, had now become filled with the baser metals. The high ideals of the new makers of the city had shrunk into mere ideas. The small, strongly entrenched ruling circle were tenacious sticklers for traditions as interpreted by themselves. That fine old word conservative (with an underneath meaning of "what we prefer") was one of their sweetest morsels. Underneath their great pride as Moses' successors, the favored custodians of the nation's most sacred treasures, was a passionate love for gold. The temple service was secretly organized on the profit-sharing plan, with the larger share, as usual, for the organizers. That hardest thing in the whole range of human action to overcome, either by God or man or the devil--prejudice--they had, in the Simon-pure form, superlatively refined. The original treasure of God's Word was about as much overlaid and hidden away by writings about it as--it has been in some other times. Of course they were looking for a Messiah, the one hope of their sacredly guarded literature. But He must be the sort that they wanted, and--could use. Herod the King was a man of great ability, great ambition, great passion, and great absence of anything akin to conscience. But the virtual ruler was the high priest. His office was bargained for, bought and sold for the money and power it controlled in the way all too familiar to corrupt political life in all times, and not wholly unknown in our own. The old spiritual ideals of Moses, and Samuel, preached amid degeneracy by Elijah and Isaiah, were buried away clear out of sight by mere formalism, though still burning warm and tender in the hearts of a few. This was the atmosphere of the old national capital into which Jesus came. <u>The Bethlehem Fog.</u> Then it was that Jesus came. Strange to say, there is a shadow over His coming from the beginning. A gray chilling shadow of the sort of gray that a stormy sky sometimes shows, gray tingeing into slaty black. Yet it was the coming that made the shadow. It takes light, and some thick thing like a block, and some distance for perspective, to make a shadow. The nearer the light to the block thing the blacker the shadow. Here the light came close to some thick blocks; of stupid thickness; human blocks grown more toughly thick by the persistent resisting of any such transparent thing as light. This was a foggy shadow. A fog is always made by influences from below. A lowering temperature chills the air, and brings down its moisture in the shape of a gray subtle pervasive mist, that blurs the outlook, and often gathers and holds black smoke, and mean poisonous odors and gases from bog and swamp. Such a fog endangers both health and life. This was just such a shadowing fog. There was a decided drop in the temperature, a sudden chill, a fog formed that sucked up the poison of the marshes, and threatened to stifle the baby breath of the new-born King. A subtle, intangible, but terribly sure something haunts and hunts the King from the first. His virgin mother is suspected by the one nearest her of the most serious offense that can be charged against a woman. The shadow that later grew to inky blackness came ahead of the man, and, under the stable eaves, waited grimly His arrival. The feverish green of Herod's eyes will be content with nothing but a new, bright, running red, and plenty of it. Satan's plan of killing was started early. He was not particular about the way it was done. The first attempt was at Bethlehem. The venomous spittle oozed out there first. But he must move along natural channels: just now, a murderous king's jealous dread of a possible rival. The first hint of the actual coming of the long expected One is from the star-students of the east. Their long journey and eager questioning bring the birth of Jesus before the official circle of the nation. It is most significant that His birth causes at once a special meeting of the nation's ruling body. Herod was troubled, of course. But--all Jerusalem was troubled _with_ him. Here is a surprising sympathy. It reflects at once vividly the situation. It was strangely suggestive that news of their King coning should trouble these national leaders. These devout star-watchers are wise in the source of information they came to. These leaders knew. They quickly pointed out the spot where the coming One _should_ be born. A pure virgin under cruel suspicion, a roomless inn, a village filled with heart-broken mothers, a quick flight on a dark night to a foreign land by a young mother and her babe, the stealthy retirement into a secluded spot away from his native province, a fellow feeling between a red-handed king and the nation's leaders--ugh! an ugly, deadly fog. <u>The Man Sent Ahead.</u> A high fence of silence shuts out from view the after years. Just one chink of a crack appears in the fence, peering through which, one gets a suggestion of beautiful simplicity, of the true, natural human growing going on beyond the fence. When mature years are reached, the royal procession is formed. A man is sent ahead to tell of the King's coming. John was Jesus' diplomatic representative, His plenipotentiary extraordinary; that is, the one man specifically sent to represent Him to the nation whose King He was. Treatment of John was treatment of Jesus. A slight done him was slighting his sovereign Master. If Sir Henry Mortimer Durand were to be slighted or treated discourteously by the American authorities, it would be felt at London as a slight upon the King, the government, and the nation they represent. Any indignity permitted to be done on American soil to von Stuckenburg would be instantly resented by Kaiser William as personal to himself. John was Jesus' Durand, His von Stuckenburg, His Whitelaw Reid. And no diplomat ever used more tactful language than this John when questioned about his Master. In Jesus' own simile, John was His _best man_. Jesus was a bridegroom. John stood by His side as His most intimate friend. Jesus and John are constantly interwoven in the events of Jesus' career. We moderns, who do everything by the calendar, have been puzzled in the attempt to piece together these events into an exact calendar arrangement. And the beautiful mosaic of the Gospels has been cut up to make a new, modern, calendar mosaic. But these writers see things by _events_, not by _dates_. They have in mind four great events, and about these their story clusters. And in these Jesus and John are inextricably interwoven. First is John's wilderness ministry, heading up in his presenting Jesus to the nation. Then John's violent seizure, and Jesus' withdrawal from the danger zone. Then John's death, and Jesus' increased caution in His movements. Then Jesus' death. John comes, points to Jesus, and goes. Jesus comes, walks a bit with John, reaches beyond him and then goes, too. John baptized. That is, he used a purifying rite in connection with his preaching. It helps to remember the distinction between baptism as practised in the Christian Church, and as practised by John, and by Jesus in His early ministry. In the church, baptism has come to be regarded as a dedicatory rite by some, and by others an initial and confessional rite. But in the first use of it, by John and Jesus, it was a purifying rite. It was a confession too, but of sin, and the need of cleansing, not, as later, of faith in a person, or a creed, although it did imply acceptance of a man's leadership. To a Hebrew mind it was preaching by symbol as well as by word. The official deputation sent from Jerusalem to look John up asked why he should be using a purifying rite if he were neither the Christ, nor Elijah, nor the prophet. They could understand the appropriateness of either of these three persons using such a rite in connection with his preaching as indicating the national need of cleansing. And in the beginning Jesus for a time, through His disciples, joined in John's plan of baptizing those who confessed sorrow for sin. Jesus acknowledged John as His own representative, and honored him as such, from first to last. He gives him the strongest approval and backing. The national treatment of John always affects Jesus' movements. When, toward the close, His authority is challenged, He at once calls attention to the evident authority of His forerunner and refuses to go farther. A trace of that ominous, puzzling foreboding noticed in the Old Testament vision of the coming One creeps in here. Pointing to Jesus, John says, "Behold the lamb of God, who beareth (away) the sin of the world." Why did John say that? _We_ read his words backward in the light of Calvary. But _he_ could not do that, and did not. He knew only a _King_ coming. Why? Even as Isaiah fifty-third, and Psalm twenty-second were written, the writers there, the speaker here, impelled to an utterance, the meaning of which, was not clear to themselves. This relation and intimacy between these two, John and Jesus, must be steadily kept in mind. <u>The Contemptuous Rejection.</u> From the very first, though Jesus was _accepted by individuals_ of every class, _He was rejected by the nation_. This is the twin-fact standing out in boldest outline through the Gospel stories. The nation's rejection began with the formal presentation of Him to it by John. First was the simple refusal to accept, then the decision to reject, then the determination that everybody else should reject too. First, that He should not be admitted to their circle, then that He should be kept out of their circle, and then that He should be kept out of every circle. There are these three distinct stages in the rejection from the Jordan waters to the Calvary Hill. First came _the contemptuous rejection_. John was a great man. Made of the same rugged stuff as the old prophets, he was more than they in being the King's own messenger and herald. In his character he was great as the greatest, though not as great in privilege as those living in the kingdom. He preached and baptized. With glowing eyes of fire, deep-set under shaggy brows, and plain vigorous speech which, if pricked, would ooze out red life, he told of the sin that must be cleaned out as a preparation for the coming One. And to all who would, he applied the cleansing rite. He had great drawing power. Away from cultured Jerusalem on the hilltops down to the river bottoms, and the stony barrens of the Jordan; from the Judean hill country, away from the stately temple service with its music and impressive ritual, to his simple open-air, plain, fervid preaching, he drew men. All sorts came, the proud Pharisee, the cynical Sadducee, the soldiers, the publicans, farmers, shepherds, tradespeople--all came. His daily gatherings represented the whole people. The nation came to his call. It was the unconscious testimony of the nation to his rugged greatness and to his divine mission. They were impelled to come, and listen, and do, and questioningly wonder if this can be the promised national leader. One day a committee came from the Jewish Senate to make official inquiry as to who he claimed to be. With critical, captious questions they demand his authority. True to his mission and his Master, he said, "I am not _the_ One, but sent to tell you that He's coming, and so near that it's time to get ready." Then the next day, as Jesus walks quietly through the crowd, probably just back from the wilderness, he finishes his reply to the deputation. With glowing eyes intently riveted upon Jesus, and finger pointing, before the alert eyes of his hundreds of hearers--Pharisees, Sadducees, official committee, Roman soldiers, and common folk--he said in clear, ringing tones, "_That is He: the coming One!_" No more dramatic, impressive presentation could have been made of Jesus to the nation. To their Oriental minds it would be peculiarly significant, Mark keenly the result. On the part of the leaders _utter silence_ There could be no more cutting expression of their contempt. With eyebrows uplifted, eyes coldly questioning, their lips slightly curling, or held close together and pursed out, and shoulders shrugging, their contempt, utter disgusted contempt, could not be more loudly expressed. If they had had the least disposition to believe John's words about Jesus, even so far as to _investigate_ patiently and thoroughly, how different would their conduct have been! But--only silence. And silence long continued. Jesus gave them plenty of time before the next step was taken. No silence ever spoke in louder voice. That same day five thoughtful men of that same throng _did_ investigate, and were satisfied, and gave at once loyal, loving allegiance. A few months later, the Passover Feast drew crowds from everywhere to Jerusalem. Jesus coming into the temple areas, with the crowds, one day, is struck at once with the strange scene. Instead of reverent, holy quiet, as worshippers approached the dwelling-place of God, with their offerings of penitence and worship, the busy bustle of a market-place greets His ears. The noise of cattle and sheep being driven here and there, the pavement like an unkempt barnyard, loud, discordant voices of men handling the beasts and bargaining over exchange rates at the brokers' tables--strange scene. Is it surprising that His ear and eye and heart, perhaps fresh from a bit of quiet morning talk with His Father, were shocked? Here, where everything should have called to devotion, everything _jarred_. Quietly and quickly putting some bits of knotted string together, He started the stock out, doubtless against the protests of the keepers. With flashing light out of those keen eyes, He tipped over the tables, spilling out their precious greedy coins, and ordered the crates of pigeons removed. But all with no suggestion of any violence used toward anybody. Reluctantly, perhaps angrily, wholly against their plans and wishes, the crowd, impelled by _something_ in this unknown Man, with no outer evidence of authority, goes. It is a remarkable tribute, both to the power of His personal presence and to His executive faculty. Of course the thing made trouble. It was the talk of the town, and of all the foreigners for days after. The leaders were aroused and angered, deeply angered. This stranger had kicked up a pretty muss with His inconvenient earnestness and inconsiderate quoting of Scripture. It was a practical assumption of superior authority over them. It was an assumption of the truth of John's ignored claim that He was the promised King. Was not this arrangement in the temple area a great convenience for the many strangers, who were their brothers and guests; a real kindly act of hospitality? Yes--and was it not, too, a finely organized bit of business for profiting by these strangers, a using of their proper authority over the temple territory to transfer their brothers' foreign coins safely over to their own purses? Aye, it was a transmuting of their holy offices into gold by the alchemy of their coarse, greedy touch. Jesus' conduct was the keenest sort of criticism of these rulers, before the eyes of the nation and of the thousands of pilgrims present. These leaders never forgave this humiliating rebuke of themselves. It made their nerves raw to His touch ever after. Here is the real reason of all their after bitter dislike. They had a sensitive pocket-nerve. It was a sort of pneumogastric nerve so close did it come to their lives. Jesus touched it roughly. It never quit aching. Scratch all their later charges against Him and under all is this sore spot. The tree of the cross began growing its wood that day. Their hot, captious demand for authority, meant as much for the ears of the crowd as for His, brought from Jesus, who read His future in their hearts, a reply which they could not understand. They asked their question for the crowd to hear, He replied for His disciples to remember in the after years. There could be no evidence of authority more significant than this temple incident. His first public work was done at this time. The great throng of pilgrims from around the world, attracted to Him by this simple daring act of leadership, witnessed a group of mighty acts during these Passover days. The angry leaders had critically asked for "signs" of His authority. He gave them in abundance, not in response to their captious demand, but doubtless, as always, in response to pressing human needs. The result was that many persons accepted Him, but the nation in its rulers, maintained their attitude of angered, contemptuous silence. But underneath that surface the pot is beginning to boil. Of all the members of the national Senate, one, _just one_, comes to make personal inquiry, and sift this man's claim sincerely and candidly. And he, be it marked, chooses a darkened hour for that visit. That night hour speaks volumes of the smouldering passion under their contempt. That Jesus recognized fully their attitude and just what it meant comes out in that quiet evening talk. To that sincere inquirer, He frankly Jays, "You people won't receive the witness that John and I have brought you." He was pleading before a court that stubbornly refuses testimony of fact. And to this honest seeker, whom we must all love for his sincerity, He reveals His inner consciousness of a tragic break coming, with a pleading word for personal trust, and a saddened "men love darkness." With the going away of the Passover crowds, Jesus leaves the national capital, and assists in the sort of work John was doing. His power to draw men, and men's eagerness for Him, stand out sharply at once. John had drawn great crowds of all classes. Jesus drew greater crowds. Multitudes eagerly accepted John's teaching and accepted baptism from him. As it turned out, greater multitudes of people, under the very eyes of these ignoring, contemptuous leaders, accepted Jesus' leadership. John baptized. Jesus baptized through His disciples. These leaders in their questioning of John had tacitly acknowledged the propriety of "the Christ" using such a rite. Jesus follows the line of least resistance, and fitted into the one phase of His work which they had recognized as proper. The pitiable fact stands out that the only result with _them_ is a wordy strife about the relative success of these two, Jesus and John. The most that their minds, steeped in jealousies and rivalries, ever watching with badger eyes to undercut some one else, could see, was a rivalry between these two men. John's instant open-hearted disclaimer made no impression upon them. They seemed not impressionable to such disinterested loyalty. A little later, probably not much, John's ruggedly honest preaching against sin came too close home to suit Herod. He promptly shuts up the preacher in prison, with no protest from the nation's leaders. These leaders had developed peculiar power in influencing their civil rulers by the strenuousness of their protests. That they permitted the imprisonment of John with no word of protest, was a tacit throwing overboard of John's own claims, of John's claims for Jesus, and of Jesus' own claim. Here is the first sharp crisis. From the first, the circle of national leaders characterized by John, the writer of the Gospel, as "the Jews," including the inner clique of chief priests and the Pharisees, ignored Jesus; with silent contempt, coldly, severely ignored. This was before the temple-cleansing affair. That intensified their attitude toward the next stage. They had to proceed cautiously, because the crowd was with Jesus. And full well these keen leaders knew the ticklishness of handling a fanatical Oriental mob, as subsequent events showed. Now John is imprisoned, with the consent of these leaders, possibly through their connivance. Jesus keenly and quickly grasps the situation. First ignored, then made the subject of evil gossip, the temple clash, and now His closest friend subjected to violence, His own rejection is painfully evident. He makes a number of radical changes. His _place_ of activity is changed to a neighboring province under different civil rule; His _method_, to preaching from place to place; His _purpose_, to working with _individuals_. There's a peculiar word used here by Matthew to tell of Jesus' departure from Judea to a province under a different civil ruler; "He _withdrew_." The word used implies going away because of danger threatening. We will run across it again and each time at a crisis point. The leaders refused Jesus because He was not duly labelled. It seems to be a prevailing characteristic to want men labelled, especially a characteristic of those who make the labels. There is always an eager desire regarding a stranger to learn whom he represents, who have put their stamp upon him and accepted him. And if the label is satisfactory, he is acccepted in the degree in which the label is accepted. Others are marked with a large interrogation point. Inherent worth has a slow time. But sure? Yes, but slow. Jesus bore no label whose words they could spell out or wanted to. They were a bit rusty in the language of worth. How knoweth this man letters, having never learned! He seems to know, to know surprisingly well. He seems keenly versed in the law, able quickly to turn the tables upon their catch questions. But then it can't be the real article of learning, because He hasn't been in our established schools. He has no sheepskin in a dead language with our learned doctors' names learnedly inscribed. How indeed! An upstart!! Yet always to the earnest, sincere inquirer there was authority enough. In His acts, an open-minded doctor of the law could read the stamp of God's approval. The ear open to learn, not waxed up by self-seeking plans, or filled with gold dust, heard the voice of divine approval out of the clouds, or in His presence and acts. <u>The Aggressive Rejection.</u> Then came the second stage, _the aggressive rejection._ This is the plotting stage. Their hot passion is cooling now into a hardening purpose. This has been shaping itself under the surface for months. Now it is open. This was a crowded year for Jesus, and a year of crowds. The Galileans had been in His southern audiences many a time and seen His miracles. The news of His coming up north to their country swiftly spread everywhere. The throngs are so great that the towns and villages are blockaded, and Jesus has recourse to the fields, where the people gather in untold thousands. An ominous incident occurs at the very beginning of this Galilean work. It is a fine touch of character that Jesus at once pays a visit to His home village. One always thinks more of Him for that. He never forgot the home folk. The synagogue service on the Sabbath day gathers the villagers together. Jesus takes the teacher's place, and reads, from Isaiah, a bit of the prophecy of the coming One. Then with a rare graciousness and winsomeness that wins all hearts, and fastens every eye upon Himself, He begins talking of the fulfilment of that word in Himself. Then there comes a strange, quick revulsion of feeling. Had some Jerusalem spy gotten in and begun his poisoning work already? Eyes begin to harden and jaws become set. "Why, that is the man that made our cattle-yoke."--"Yes, and fixed our kitchen table."--"He--the Messiah!" Then words of rebuke gently spoken, but with truth's razor edge. Then a hot burst of passion, and He is hustled out to the jagged edge of the hill to be thrown over. Then that wondrous presence awing them back, as their hooked hands lose hold, and their eyes again fasten with wonder, and He passed quietly on His way undisturbed. Surely that was the best evidence of the truth of His despised word. Seven outstanding incidents here reveal the ever-hardening purpose of the leaders against Jesus. First comes another clash in the temple. Their ideas of what was proper on the Sabbath day receive a shock because a man enslaved by disease for years was healed with a word from Jesus' lips. Could there be a finer use of a Sabbath day! We can either think them really shocked, or hunting for a religious chance to fight Him. Jesus' reply seems so to enrage that a passion to kill Him grips them. It is notable that they had no doubt of the extent of Jesus' claim; "He called God His own Father, making Himself equal with God." On these two things, His use of the Sabbath, and His claim of divinity, is based the aggressive campaign begun that day. The incident draws from Him the marvellous words preserved by John in his fifth chapter. In support of His claim He quietly brings forward five witnesses, John His herald, His own miraculous acts, His Father, the Scriptures entrusted to their care, and Moses, the founder of the nation. That was a great line of testimony. This first thought of killing Him seems to have been a burst of hot, passionate rage, but gradually we shall find it cooled into a hardened, deliberate purpose. At once Jesus returns to the northern province. And now they begin to follow Him up, and spy upon His movements and words. In Capernaum, His northern headquarters, a man apparently at unrest in soul about his sins, and palsied in body, is first assured of forgiveness, and then made bodily whole. Their criticism of His forgiving sins is silenced by the power evidenced in the bodily healing. But their plan of campaign is now begun in earnest, and is evident at once. Later criticism of His personal conduct and habits with the despised classes is mingled with an attempt to work upon His disciples and undermine their loyalty. The Sabbath question comes up again through the disciples satisfying their hunger in the grain fields, and brings from Jesus the keen comment that man wasn't made for the Sabbath, but to be helped through that day, and then the statement that must have angered them further that He was "Lord of the Sabbath." Another Sabbath day in the synagogue they were on hand to see if He would heal a certain man with a whithered hand whom they had gotten track of, "that they might accuse Him." They were spying out evidence for the use of the Jerusalem leaders. To His grief they harden their hearts against His plea for saving a _man_, a _life_, as against a tradition. And as the man with full heart and full eyes finds his chance of earning a living restored, they rush out, and with the fire spitting from their eyes, and teeth gritting, they plan to get their political enemies, the Herodians, to help them kill Jesus. A number of these incidents give rise to these passionate outbursts to kill, which seem to cool off, but to leave the remnants that hardened into the cool purpose most to be dreaded. A second time occurs that significant word, "withdrew." Jesus withdrew to the sea, followed by a remarkable multitude of Galileans, and others from such distant points as Tyre and Sidon on the north, Idumea on the extreme south, beyond the Jordan on the east, and from Jerusalem. He was safe with this sympathizing crowd. The crowds were so great, and the days so crowded, that Jesus' very eating was interfered with. His friends remonstrate, and even think Him unduly swayed by holy enthusiasm. But it is a man come down from Jerusalem who spread freely among the crowds the ugly charge that He was in league with the devil, possessed by an _unclean_ spirit, and that that explained His strange power. No uglier charge could be made. It reveals keenly the desperate purpose of the Jerusalem leaders. Clearly it was made to influence the crowds. They were panic-stricken over these crowds. What could He not do with such a backing, if He chose! Such a rumor would Spread like wildfire. Jesus shows His leadership. He at once calls the crowds about Him, speaks openly of the charge, and refutes it, showing the evident absurdity of it. Then a strange occurrence takes place. While He is teaching a great crowd one day, there is an interruption in the midst of His speaking Oddly, it comes from His mother and her other sons. They send in a message asking to see Him at once. This seems very strange. It would seem probable from the narrative that they had access to Him constantly. Why this sudden desire by the one closest to Him by natural ties to break into His very speaking for a special interview? Had these Jerusalem men been working upon the fears of her mother heart for the safety of her Son? She would use her influence to save Him from possible danger threatening? There is much in the incident to give color to such a supposition. Perhaps a man of such fineness as He could be checked back by consideration for His mother's feelings. They were quite capable of pulling any wire to shut Him up, however ignorant they showed themselves of the simple sturdiness of true character. But the same man who so tenderly provides for His mother in the awful pain of hanging on a cross reminds her now that a divine errand is not to be hindered by nature's ties; that clear vision of duty must ever hold the reins of the heart. Then comes the most terrible, and most significant event, up to this time, in the whole gospel narrative--the murder of John. This marks the sharpest crisis yet reached. For a year or so John had been kept shut up in a prison dungeon, evidence of his own faithfulness, and of the low moral tone, or absence of moral tone, of the time. Then one night there is a prolonged, debased debauchery in a magnificent palace; the cunning, cruel scheme of the woman whose wrong relation to Herod John had honestly condemned. The dancing young princess, the drunken oath, the terrible request, the glowing-coal eyes closed, the tongue that held crowds with its message of sin, and of the coming One stilled, the King's herald headless--the whole horrible, nightmare story comes with the swiftness of aroused passion, the suddenness of a lightning flash, the cold cruelty of indulged lust. Instantly on getting the news Jesus "_withdrew_"--for the third time withdrew to a retired desert place. This had tremendous personal meaning for Him. Nothing has occurred thus far that spells out for Him the coming tragic close so large, so terribly large, as does this. He stays away from the Passover Feast occurring at this time, the only one of the four of His public career He failed to attend. <u>The Murderous Rejection.</u> This crisis leads at once into the final stage, _the murderous rejection_. Jesus is now a fugitive from the province of Judea, because the death plot has been deliberately settled upon. The southern leaders begin a more vigorous campaign of harrying Him up in Galilee. A fresh deputation of Pharisees come up from Jerusalem to press the fighting. They at once bring a charge against Jesus' disciples of being untrue to the time-honored traditions of the national religion. Yet it is found to be regarding such trivial things as washing their hands and arms clear up to the elbows each time before eating, and of washing of cups and pots and the like. Jesus sharply calls attention to their hypocrisy and cant, by speaking of their dishonoring teachings and practices in matters of serious moment. Then He calls the crowd together and talks on the importance of being clean _inside_, in the heart and thought. Before all the crowds He calls them hypocrites. It's a sharp clash and break. Jesus at once "withdrew." It is the fourth time that significant danger word is used. This time His withdrawal is clear out of the Jewish territory, far up north to the vicinity of Tyre and Sidon, on the seacoast, and there He attempts to remain unknown. After a bit He returns again, this time by a round-about way, to the Sea of Galilee. Quickly the crowds find out His presence and come; and again many a life and many a home are utterly changed by His touch. With the crowd come the Pharisees, this time in partnership with another group, the Sadducees, whom they did not love especially. They hypocritically beg a sign from heaven, as though eager to follow a divinely sent messenger. But He quickly discerns their purpose to _tempt_ Him into something that can be used against Him. The sign is refused. Jesus never used His power to show that He could, but only to help somebody. The fall of that year found Him boldly returning to the danger zone of Jerusalem for attendance on the harvest-home festival called by them the Feast of Tabernacles. It was the most largely attended of the three annual gatherings, attracting thousands of faithful Jews from all parts of the world. The one topic of talk among the crowds was Jesus, with varying opinions expressed; but those favorable to Him were awed by the keen purpose of the leaders to kill Him. When the festival was in full swing, one morning, Jesus quietly appears among the temple crowds, and begins teaching. The leaders tried to arrest Him, but are held back by some hidden influence, nobody seeming willing to take the lead. Then the clique of chief priests send officers to arrest Him. But they are so impressed by His presence and His words, that they come back empty-handed, to the disgust of their superiors. Great numbers listening believe on Him, but some of the leaders, mingling in the crowd, stir up discussion so sharp that with hot passion, and eyes splashing green light, they stoop down and pick up stones to hurl at Him and end His life at once. It is the first attempt at personal violence in Jerusalem. But again that strange restraining power, and Jesus passes out untouched. As he quietly passes through and out, He stops to give sight to a blind man. Interestingly enough it occurs on a Sabbath day. Instantly the leaders seize on this, and have a time of it with the man and his parents in turn, with this upshot, that the man for his bold confession of faith in Jesus is shut out from all synagogue privileges, in accordance with a decision already given out. He becomes an outcast, with all that that means. It's a fine touch that Jesus hunts up this outcast and gives him a free entrance into His own circle. After this feast-visit to Jerusalem, Jesus probably returns to Galilee, as after previous visits there, and then one day leads His band of disciples up to the neighborhood of snow-capped Hermon. Here probably occurs the transfiguration, the purpose of which was to tie up these future leaders of His, against the events now hurrying on with such swift pace. From this time begins the preparation of this inner circle for the coming tragedy so plain to His eyes. Then begins that memorable last journey from Galilee toward Jerusalem through the country on the east of the Jordan. With marvellous boldness and courage He steadfastly set His face toward Jerusalem. The ever-tightening grip of His purpose is in the set of His face. The fire burning so intensely within is in His eye as He tramps along the road alone, with the disciples following, awestruck and filled with wondering fear. Thirty-five deputations of two each are sent ahead into all the villages to be visited by Him. What an intense campaigner was Jesus! He was thoroughly, systematically stumping the whole country for God. As He approaches nearer to the Jerusalem section the air gets tenser and hotter. The leaders are constantly harrying His steps, tempting with catch questions, seeking signs, poisoning the crowds--mosquito warfare! He moves steadily, calmly on. Some of the keenest things He said flashed out through the friction of contact with them. A tempting lawyer's question brings out the beautiful Samaritan parable. The old Sabbath question provokes a fresh tilt with a synagogue ruler. There is a cunning attempt by the Pharisees to get Him out of Herod's territory into their own. How intense the situation grew is graphically told in Luke's words, they "began to set themselves vehemently against Him, and to provoke Him to speak many things; laying wait for Him to catch something out of His mouth." Though unmoved by the cunning effort of the Pharisees to get Him over from Herod's jurisdiction into Judea, despite their threatening attitude, the winter Feast of Dedication finds Him again in Jerusalem walking in one of the temple areas. Instantly He is surrounded by a group of these Jerusalem Jews who, with an air of apparent earnest inquiry, keep prodding Him with the request to be told plainly if He is really the Christ. His patient reply brings a storm of stones--almost. Held in check for a while by an invisible power, or by the power of His presence shown under such circumstances so often, again they attempt to seize His person, and again He seems invisibly to hold their hands back, as He quietly passes on His way out of their midst. Then comes the stupendous raising of Lazarus, which brings faith in Him to great numbers, and results in the formal official decision of the national council to secure His death. He is declared a fugitive with a price set upon His head. Anybody knowing of His whereabouts must report the fact to the authorities. This decides Him not to show Himself openly among them. In a few weeks the pilgrims are crowding Jerusalem for the Passover. Jesus' name is on every tongue. The rumor that He was over the hills in Bethany takes a crowd over there, not simply to see Him, but to see the resurrected Lazarus. Then it was determined to kill Lazarus off, too. That tremendous last week now begins. Jesus is seen to be the one masterly figure in the week's events. In comparison with His calm steady movements, these leaders run scurrying around, here and there, like headless hens. The week begins with the most public, formal presentation of Himself in a kingly fashion to the nation. It is their last chance. How wondrously patient and considerate is this Jesus! And how sublimely heroic! Into the midst of those men ravenous for His blood He comes. Seated with fine, unconscious majesty on a kingly beast, surrounded by ever-increasing multitudes loudly singing and speaking praises to God, over paths bestrewed with garments and branches of living green, slowly He mounts the hill road toward the city. At a turn in the road all of a sudden the city lies spread out before Him. "He saw the city and wept over it." "He sat upon the ass's colt and rode Toward Jerusalem. Beside Him walked Closely and silently the faithful twelve, And on before Him went a multitude Shouting hosannas, and with eager hands Strewing their garments thickly in the way. Th' unbroken foal beneath Him gently stepped, Tame as its patient dam; and as the song Of 'Welcome to the Son of David' burst Forth from a thousand children, and the leaves Of the waving branches touched its silken ears, It turned its wild eye for a moment back, And then, subdued by an invisible hand, Meekly trod onward with its slender feet. "The dew's last sparkle from the grass had gone As He rode up Mount Olivet. The woods Threw their cool shadows directly to the west; And the light foal, with quick and toiling step, And head bent low, kept up its unslackened way Till its soft mane was lifted by the wind Sent o'er the mount from Jordan. As He reached The summit's breezy pitch, the Saviour raised His calm blue eye--there stood Jerusalem! Eagerly He bent forward, and beneath His mantle's passive folds a bolder line Than the wont slightness of His perfect limbs Betrayed the swelling fulness of His heart. There stood Jerusalem! How fair she looked-- The silver sun on all her palaces, And her fair daughters 'mid the golden spires Tending their terrace flowers; and Kedron's stream Lacing the meadows with its silver band And wreathing its mist-mantle on the sky With the morn's exhalation. There she stood, Jerusalem, the city of His love, Chosen from all the earth: Jerusalem, That knew Him not, and had rejected Him; Jerusalem for whom He came to die! "The shouts redoubled from a thousand lips At the fair sight; the children leaped and sang Louder hosannas; the clear air was filled With odor from the trampled olive leaves But 'Jesus wept!' The loved disciple saw His Master's tear, and closer to His side He came with yearning looks, and on his neck The Saviour leaned with heavenly tenderness, And mourned, 'How oft, Jerusalem! would I Have gathered you, as gathereth a hen Her brood beneath her wings--but ye would not!' "He thought not of the death that He should die-- He thought not of the thorns He knew must pierce His forehead--of the buffet on the cheek-- The scourge, the mocking homage, the foul scorn! "Gethsemane stood out beneath His eye Clear in the morning sun; and there, He knew, While they who 'could not watch with Him one hour' Were sleeping, He should sweat great drops of blood, Praying the cup might pass! And Golgotha Stood bare and desert by the city wall; And in its midst, to His prophetic eye Rose the rough cross, and its keen agonies Were numbered all--the nails were in His feet-- Th' insulting sponge was pressing on His lips-- The blood and water gushed from His side-- The dizzy faintness swimming in His brain-- And, while His own disciples fled in fear, A world's death agonies all mixed in His! Ah!--He forgot all this. He only saw Jerusalem--the chosen--the loved--the lost! He only felt that for her sake His life Was vainly given, and in His pitying love The sufferings that would clothe the heavens in black Were quite forgotten. "Was there ever love, In earth or heaven, equal to this?"[5] And so the King entered His capital. It was a royal procession. Mark keenly the result. Again that utter, ominous, loud silence, that greeted His ears first, more than three years before. He had come to His own home. His own kinsfolk received Him not! Then each day He came to the city, and each night, homeless, slept out in the open, under the trees of Olivet, and the blue. Now, He rudely shocks them by clearing the temple areas of the market-place rabble and babble, and now He is healing the lame and maimed in the temple itself, amid the reverent praise of the multitude, the songs of the children, and the scowling, muttered protests of the chief priests. Calmly, day by day, He moves among them, while their itching fingers vainly clutch for a hold upon Him, and as surely are held back by some invisible force. By every subtle device known to cunning, crafty men, they lay question-traps, and lie in wait to catch His word. He foils them with His marvellous, simple answers, lashes them with His keen, cutting parables and finally Himself proposes a question about their own scriptures which they admit themselves unable to answer, and, utterly defeated, ask no more questions. Then follows that most terrific arraignment of these leaders, with its infinitely tender, sad, closing lament over Jerusalem. That is the final break. Then occurs that pathetic Greek incident that seems to agitate Jesus so. This group of earnest seekers, from the outside, non-Jewish world brings to Jesus a vision of the great hungry heart of the world, and of an open-mindedness to truth such as was to Him these days as a cool, refreshing drink to a dusty mouth on a dry hot day. But--no--the Father's will--simple obedience--only that was right. The harvest can come only through the grain giving out its life in the cold ground. Before the final act in the tragedy Jesus retires from sight, probably for prayer. Some dear friends of Bethany in whose home He had rested many a time, where He ever found sweet-sympathy, arranged a little home-feast for Him where a few congenial friends might gather. While seated there in the quiet atmosphere of love and fellowship so grateful to Him after those Jerusalem days, one of the friends present, a woman, Mary, takes a box of exceeding costly ointment, and anoints His head. To the strange protests made, Jesus quietly explains her thought in the act. She alone understood what was coming. Alone of all others it was a woman, the simple-hearted Bethany Mary, who _understood_ Jesus. As none other did she perceive with her keen love-eyes the coming death, and--more--its meaning. It is one of the disciples, Judas, who protests indignantly against such _waste_. This ointment would have brought at least seventy-five dollars, and how much such a sum would have done for the _poor_! Thoughtless, improvident woman! Strange the word didn't blister on his canting lips. John keenly sees that his fingers are clutching the treasure bag as he speaks the word, and that his thoughts are far from the poor. Jesus gently rebukes Judas. But Judas is hot tempered, and sullenly watches for the first chance to withdraw and carry out the damnable purpose that has been forming within. He hurries over the hill, through the city gate, up to the palace of the chief priest. Within there was a company of the inner clique of the leaders, discussing how to get hold of Jesus most easily. They sit heavily in their seats, with shut fists, set jaws, and that peculiar yellow-green light spitting out from under their lowering, knit brows. These bothersome crowds had to be considered. The feast-day wouldn't do. The crowd would be greatest then, and hardest to handle. Back and forth they brew their scheme. Then a knock at the door. Startled, they look alertly up to know who this intruder may be. The door is opened. In steps a man with a hangdog, guilty, but determined look. It is one of the men they have seen with Jesus! What can this mean? He glances furtively from one to another. Then he speaks: "How much'll you give if I get Jesus into your hands?" Of all things this was probably the last they had thought might happen. Their eyes gleam. How much indeed--a good snug sum to get their fingers securely on his person. But they're shrewd bargainers. That's one of their specialties. How much did he _want_? Poor Judas! He made a bad bargain that day. Thirty pieces of silver! He could easily have gotten a thousand. Judas did love money greedily, and doubtless was a good bargainer too, but anger was in the saddle now, and drove him hard. Without doubt it was in a hot fit of temper that he made this proposal. His descendants have been coining money out of Jesus right along: exchanging Him for gold. Only a little later, and the Master is closeted with His inner circle in the upper room of a faithful friend's house in one of the Jerusalem streets, for the Passover supper. A word from Him and Judas withdraws for his dark errand. Then those great heart-talks of Jesus, in the upper room, along the roadway, under the full moon, maybe passing by the massive temple structure, then under the olive trees. Then the hour grows late, the disciples are drowsy, the Master is off alone among those trees, then weird uncertain lights of torches, a rabble of soldiers and priests, a man using friendship's cloak, and friendship's greeting--then the King is in the hands of His enemies. An awful night, followed by a yet more awful day, and the plan of the kingdom is broken by the tragic killing of the King. <u>Suffering the Birth-pains of a New Life.</u> Why did Jesus die? It's a pretty old question. It's been threshed out no end of times. Yet every time one thinks of the gospel, or opens the Book, it looks out earnestly into his face. And nothing is better worth while than to have another serious prayerful go at it. The whole nub of the gospel is here. It clears the ground greatly not to have any theory about Jesus' death, but simply to try thoughtfully to gather up all the statements and group them, regardless of where it may lead, or how it may knock out previous ideas. It can be said at once that His dying was not God's own plan. It was a plan conceived somewhere else, and yielded to by God. God had a plan of atonement by which men who were willing could be saved from sin and its effects. That plan is given in the old Hebrew code. To the tabernacle, or temple, under prescribed regulations, a man could bring some live animal which he owned. The man brought that which was his own. It represented him. Through his labor the beast or bird was his. He had transferred some of his life and strength into it. He identified himself with it further by close touch at the time of its being offered. He offered up its life. In his act he acknowledged that his own life was forfeited. In continuing to live he acknowledged the continued life as belonging to God. He was to live as belonging to another. He made, in effect, the statement made long after by Paul: "I am offering up my life on this altar for my sin; nevertheless I am living: yet the life I live is no longer mine, but another's. Mine has been taken away by sin." There was no malice or evil feeling in the man's act, but only penitence, and an earnest, noble purpose. The act revealed the man's inner spirit. It acknowledged his sin, that life is forfeited by sin, his desire to have the sin difficulty straightened out, and to be at one again with God. He expressed his hatred of sin and his earnest desire to be free of it. I am not saying at all that this was true of every Hebrew coming with his sacrifice. I may not say it of all who approach God to day through Jesus. But clearly enough, all of this is in the old Hebrew _plan_ devised by God. It was the new choice that brought the man back to God, even as the first choice had separated him from God. And the explicit statement made over and over is this, "and it shall make atonement." Clearly Jesus' dying does not in any way fit into the old Hebrew _form_ of sacrifice, nor into the spirit of the man who caused the death of the sacrifice, though in spirit, in requirement it far more than fills it out. The Old Testament scheme is Jewish. The manner of Jesus' death is not Jewish, but Roman. As a priest He was not of the Jewish order, but of an order non-Jewish and antedating the other by hundreds of years. In no feature does He fit into the old custom. But every truth taught by the old is brilliantly exemplified and embodied in Him. The epistle to the Hebrews was written to Jews who had become Christians, but through persecution and great suffering were sorely tempted to go back to the old Jewish faith. They seemed to be saying that Jesus filled out neither the kingdom plan, nor the Mosaic scheme of sacrifice. The writer of the epistle is showing with a masterly sweep and detail the immense superiority of what Jesus did over the old Mosaic plan. Read backward, these provisions are seen to be vivid illustrations of what Jesus did do, not in form, not actually, but in fact, in spirit, in a way vastly ahead of the Hebrew ritual. The truth underneath the old was fully fulfilled in Jesus, though the form was not. One needs always to keep sharply in mind the difference between God's _plan_ and that which He clearly saw ahead, and into which He determined to fit in carrying out His purpose. There is no clearer, stronger statement of this than that found in Peter's Pentecost sermon: "Him being delivered up by the determinate counsel and foreknowledge of God, ye by the hands of men without law did crucify and slay." God knew ahead what would come. There was a conference held. The whole matter talked over. With full knowledge of the situation, the obstinate hatred of men, the terrific suffering involved, it was calmly, resolutely advised and decided upon that when the time came Jesus should yield Himself up pliantly into their hands. That is Peter's statement. This in no way affects the fact that Jesus dying as He did is the one means of salvation. It does not at all disturb any of Paul's statements, in their plainest, first-flush meaning. It does explain the kingdom plan, and the necessity for Jesus finishing up the kingdom plan some day. For though God's plan may be broken, and retarded, it always is carried through in the end. It explains too that evil is never necessary to good. Hatred, evil never helps God's plans. The good that God brought out of the cross is not through the bad, but in spite of the bad. The preaching of the Acts is absorbed with the astounding, overshadowing, appalling fact of the killing of the nation's King. But through it all runs this strain of reasoning: the kingdom plan has been broken by the murder of the King. He has been raised from the dead in vindication of His claim. This marvellous power that is so evident to all eyes and ears is the Holy Spirit whom the killed King has sent down. It proves that He is now enthroned in glory at God's right hand. He is coming back to carry out the kingdom plan. Now the thing to do is to repent, and so there will come blessing now, and by and by the King again. When the first church council is held to discuss the matter of letting non-Jewish outsiders into their circle, the clear-headed, judicial-tempered James, in the presiding chair, puts the thing straight. He says: "Peter has fully told us how God _first_ visited the outside nations to take out of them a people for Himself. And this fits into the prophetic plan as outlined by Amos, that _after_ that the kingdom will be set up and then _all_ men will come." This brings out in bold relief the fact that the _horrible_ features of Jesus' dying, the hatred and cruelty, were no part of the plan of salvation, and not necessary to the plan. The cross was the invention of hate. There is no cross in God's plan of atonement. It is the superlative degree of hate, brooded and born, and grown lusty in hell. It was God's master touch that, through yielding, it _becomes_ to all men for all time the superlative degree of love. The ages have softened all its sharp jagged edges with a halo of glory. It is perfectly clear, too, that Jesus died of His own accord. He chose the _time_ of His death and the _manner_ of it. He had said it was purely voluntary on His part, and the record plainly shows that it was. All attempts to kill Him failed until He chose to yield. There are ten separate mentions of their effort, either to get hold of His person or to kill Him at once before they finally succeeded. He was killed _in intent_ at least three times, once by being dashed over a precipice, and twice by stoning, before He was actually killed by crucifixion. Each time surrounded by a hostile crowd, apparently quite capable of doing as they pleased, yet each time He passes through their midst, and their hooked fingers are restrained against their will, and their gnashing teeth bite only upon the spittle of their hate. This makes Jesus' _motive_ in yielding explain His death. The cross means just what His purpose in dying puts into it. If we read the facts of the gospel stories apart from Jesus' words, the cross spells out just one word--in large, pot-black capitals--HATE. What was Jesus' motive or purpose in dying? His own words give the best answer. The earlier remarks are obscure to those who heard, not understood. And we can understand that they could not. At the first Passover He speaks of their destroying "this temple," and His raising it in three days. Naturally they think of the building of stone, but He is thinking of His body. To Nicodemus He says that the Son of Man must "be _lifted up_": and to some critics that when the "bridegroom" is "taken away" there will be fasting among His followers. Later, He speaks much more plainly. After John has gone home by way of Herod's red road, at the time of the feeding of the 5,000 there is the discussion about bread, and the true bread. Jesus speaks a word that perplexes the crowd much, and yet He goes on to explain just what He means. It is in John, sixth chapter, verses fifty-three to fifty-seven inclusive, He says that if a man eat His flesh and drink His blood he shall have eternal life. The listening crowd takes the words literally and of course is perplexed. Clearly enough it is not meant to be taken literally. Read in the light of the after events it is seen to be an allusion to His coming death. Such a thing as actually eating His flesh and drinking His blood would necessitate His death. We men are under doom of death written in our very bodies, assured to us by the unchangeable fact of bodily death. Now if a man take Jesus into his very being so that they become one in effect, then clearly if Jesus die the man is freed from the necessity of dying. Through Jesus dying there is for such a man _life_. That is the statement Jesus makes. In five distinct sentences He attempts to make His meaning simple and clear. The first sentence puts the _negative_ side: there is no life without Jesus being taken into one's being. Then the positive side: through this sort of eating there is _life_. And with this is coupled the inferential statement that they are not to be spared _bodily_ death, because they are to be _raised up_. The third sentence, that Jesus is the one true food of real life. The fourth sentence gives a parallel or interchangeable phrase for eating and drinking, _i.e._, "_abideth_ in me and I in Him." A mutual abiding in each other. The food abides in the man eating it. The man abides in the strength of the food He has taken in. Eating My flesh means abiding in Me. The last sentence gives an illustration. This living in Jesus, having Him live in us as closely as though actually eaten, is the same as Jesus' own life on earth being lived in His Father, dependent upon the Father. And when the crowds take His words literally and complain that none can understand such statements, He at once explains that, of course, He does not mean literal eating--"The flesh profiteth nothing" (even if you did eat it): "it is the _Spirit_ that gives life:" "the _words_ ... are _Spirit_ and _life_." The taking of Jesus through His words into one's life to dominate--that is the meaning. A few months later, in Jerusalem, He speaks again of His purpose, in John's tenth chapter, "The good shepherd layeth down His life for the sheep." "I lay down my life for the sheep." The death was for others because of threatening danger. "Other sheep I have which are not of this fold: them also I must lead." Here is clear foresight of the wide sweep of influence through His death. "I lay down my life that I may take it again." The death was _one step_ in a plan. There is something beyond. "I lay it down of myself. I have the right to lay it down, and I have the right to take it again. This commandment I received from my Father." The dying was voluntary and was agreed to between the Father and Himself. To the disciples He speaks of the need of taking up a "cross" in order to be followers, and to the critical Pharisee asking a sign, He alludes to Jonah's three days and nights in the belly of the sea monster. Neither of these allusions conveyed any definite idea to those listening. Then the last week when the Greeks came; "Except a grain of wheat fall into the earth and die, it abideth by itself alone; but if it die, it beareth much fruit." The dying was to have great influence upon others. "And I if I be lifted up from the earth will draw all men unto myself." The dying was to be _for others_, and to exert tremendous influence upon the whole race. In that last long talk with the eleven, "that the world may know that I love the Father and as the Father gave me commandment even so I do." The dying was in obedience to His Father's wish, and was to let men know of the great love between Father and Son. "Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends." This dying was for these friends. And in that great prayer that lays His heart bare, "for their sakes I sanctify myself that they also may be sanctified in truth." The dying is _for others_, and is for the securing in these others of a certain spirit or character. The reference to the dying being in accord with the Father's wish comes out again at the arrest, "The cup that the Father hath given me, shall I not drink it?" To these quotations from Jesus' lips may be added a significant one from the man who stood closest to Jesus. Referring to a statement about Jesus made by Caiaphas, John adds: "being high priest that year he prophesied that Jesus should die for the nation; and not for the nation only, but that He might gather together into one the children of God that are scattered abroad." As John understood the matter, the death was not simply for others, but for the _Jewish nation_ as a nation, and beyond that for a gathering into one of _all_ of God's children. Jesus was to be God's magnet for attracting together all that belong to Him. The death was to be a roadway through to something beyond. From His own words, then, Jesus saw a _necessity_ for His dying. He "must" be lifted up. That "must" spells out the desperateness of the need and the strength of His love. Sin contains in itself death for man as a logical result. And by death is not meant the passing of life out of the body. That is a mere incident of death. Death is separation from God. It is gradual until finally complete. Love would plan nothing less radical than a death that would be for man the death of death. His death was to be _for others_, it was purely _voluntary_, it was by agreement with His Father, in obedience to His wishes, and an evidence of His filial love. The death is a step in a plan. There is something beyond, growing out of the death. Jesus plans not merely a transfer of the death item, but a _new_ life, a new _sort_ of life, in its place. The dying is but a step. It is a great step, tremendously great, indispensable, the step that sets the pace. Yet but one step of a number. Beyond the dying is the _living_, living a _new_ life. He works out in Himself the plan for them--a dying, and after that a new life, and a new sort of life. Then according to His other teaching there is the sending of some One else to men to work out in His name in each of them this plan. That plan is to be worked out in each man choosing to receive Him into his life. He will send down His other self, the Holy Spirit, to work this out in each one. Jesus' death released His life to be re-lived in us. Jesus plans to get rid of the sin in a man, and put in something else in its place. The sin must be gotten out, first washed out, then burned out. Then a new seed put in that will bear life. What a chemist and artist in one is this Jesus! He uses bright red, to get a pure white out of a dead black. In addition to the plan for man individually, the dying is to produce the same result in the Jewish nation. There is to be a national new-birth. A new Jewish people. And then the dying is to have a tremendous influence upon all men. On the cross Jesus would suffer the birth-pains of a new life for man and for the world. Such, in brief, seems to be the grouping of Jesus' own thought about His dying. Its whole influence is manward. The value of Jesus' dying lies wholly in its being _voluntary_. Of deliberate purpose He _allowed_ them to put Him to death. Otherwise they could not, as is fully proven by their repeated failures. And the purpose as well as the value of the death lies entirely in His _motive_ in yielding. If they could have taken His life without His consent, then that death would have been an expression of their hate, and only that. But as it is, it forever stands an expression of two things. On their part of the intensest, hottest hate; on His part of the finest, strongest love. It makes new records for both hate and love. Sin put Jesus to death. In yielding to these men Jesus was yielding to sin, for they personified sin. And sin yielded to quickly brought death, its logical outcome. Jesus' dying being His own act, controlled entirely by His own intention, makes it _sacrificial_. There are certain necessary elements in such a sacrifice. It must be voluntary. It must involve pain or suffering of some sort. The suffering must be _undeserved_, that is, in no way or degree a result of one's own act, else it is not sacrifice, but logical result. It must be for others. And the suffering must be of a sort that would not come save for this voluntary act. It must be supposed to bring benefit to the others. Each of these elements must be in to make up fully a sacrifice. There are elements of sacrifice in much noble suffering by man. But in no one do all of these elements perfectly combine and blend, save in Jesus. To this agree the words of the philosopher of the New Testament writers. It would be so, of course, for the Spirit of Jesus swayed Paul. The epistle to the Romans contains a brief packed summary of his understanding of the gospel plan. There is in it one remarkable statement of the _Father's_, purpose in Jesus' death. In the third chapter, verse twenty-six, freely translated, "that He might be reckoned righteous in reckoning righteous the man who has faith." "That He might be reckoned righteous"--that is, in His attitude toward sin. That in allowing things to go on as they were, in holding back sin's logical judgment, He was not careless or indifferent about sin or making light of it. He was controlled by a great purpose. God's great difficulty was to make clear at once both His love and His hate: His love for man: His hate for the sin that man had grained in so deep that they were as one. For the man's sake He must show His love to win and change him. For man's sake He must show His hate of sin that man, too, might know its hatefulness and learn to hate it with intensest hate. His love for man is to be the measure of man's hate for sin. The death of Jesus was God's master-stroke. At one stroke He told man His estimate of man and His estimate of man's sin; His love and His hate. It was the measureless measure of His hate for sin, and His love for man. It was a master-stroke too, in that He took sin's worst--the cross--and in it revealed His own best. Out of what was meant for God's defeat, came sin's defeat, and God's greatest victory. And the one simple thing that transfers to a man all that Jesus has worked out for him is what is commonly called "faith." That is, trusting God, turning the heart Godward, yielding to the inward upward tug, letting the pleasing of God dominate the life. This, be it keenly marked, has ever been the one simple condition in every age and in every part of the earth. Abraham _believed_ God and it was reckoned to him for righteousness. The devout Hebrew, reverently, penitently standing with his hand on the head of his sacrifice, at the tabernacle door, _believed_ God and it was reckoned to _him_ for righteousness. The devout heathen with face turned up to the hill top, and feet persistently toiling up, patiently seeking glory and honor and incorruption _believes_ God, though he may not know His name, and it is reckoned to _him_ for righteousness. The devout Christian, with his hand in Christ's, _believes_ God, and it is counted to _him_ for righteousness. The devout Hebrew, the earnest heathen, and the more enlightened believer in Jesus group themselves here by the common purpose that grips them alike. The Hebrew with his sacrifice, the heathen with his patient continuance, and the Christian who _knows_ more in knowing Jesus, stand together under the mother wing of God. Some Surprising Results of the Tragic Break <u>The Surprised Jew.</u> God proposes. Man disposes. God proposed a king, and a world-wide kingdom with great prosperity and peace. Man disposed of that plan for the bit of time and space controlled by his will, and in its place interposed for the king, a cross. Out of such a radical clashing of two great wills have come some most surprising results. The first surprise was for the Jew. Within a few weeks after Jesus' final departure, Jerusalem, and afterward Palestine, was filled with thousands of people believing in Him. A remarkable campaign of preaching starts up and sweeps everything before it. Jesus' name was on every tongue as never before. But there were earnest Jews who could not understand how Jesus could be the promised Messiah. He had not set up a kingdom. Their Scriptures were full of a kingdom. The Jew, whether in their largest colony in Babylon, or in Jerusalem, or in Rome, or Alexandria, or the smaller colonies everywhere, was full of the idea, the hope, of a kingdom. He was absorbed with more or less confused and materialized, unspiritual ideas of a coming glory for his nation through a coming king. But among the followers of this Jesus there is something else coming into being, a new organization never even hinted at in their Scriptures. It is called the church. It is given a name that indicates that it is to be made up of persons taken out from among all nations. There comes to be now a three-fold division of all men. There had been with the Jews, always, a two-fold division, the Jew and the Gentiles, or outside nations. Now three, the Jew, the outsiders, and the church. The church is an eclectic society, a chosen out body. Its principle of organization is radically different from that of the Hebrew nation. There membership was by birthright. Here it is by individual choice and belief. Foreigners coming in were not required to become Jews, as under the old, but remained essentially as they have been in all regards, except the one thing of relationship to Jesus in a wholly spiritual sense. There is constant talk about "the _gospel_ of the kingdom," but the kingdom itself _seems_ to have quite slipped away, and the church is in its place. Such a situation must have been very puzzling to any Jew. His horizon was full of a kingdom--a _Jew_ kingdom. Anything else was unthinkable. These intense Orientals could not conceive of anything else. It had taken a set of visions to swing Peter and the other church leaders into line even on letting outsiders into the church. This Jesus does not fill out this old Hebrew picture of a king and a kingdom. How _can_ He be the promised Messiah? This was to thousands a most puzzling question, and a real hinderance to their acceptance of Jesus, even by those profoundly impressed with the divine power being seen. This was the very question that had puzzled John the Baptist those weary months, till finally he sends to Jesus for some light on his puzzle. Jesus fills out part of the plan, and splendidly, but only part, and may be what seems to some the smaller part. Can it be, John asks, that there is to be another one coming to complete the picture? To him Jesus does not give an answer, except that he must wait and trust. He would not in words anticipate the nation's final rejection, though so well He knew what was coming. Their chance was not yet run out for the acceptance of Jesus that would fill out John's picture. God never lets His foreknowledge influence one whit man's choice. It was a most natural and perplexing difficulty, both for John and later for these thousands. The answer to all this has its roots down in that tragic break. In the old picture of the Messiah there are two distinct groups of characteristics of the coming king, _personal_ and _official_. He was to have a direct personal relation to men and an official relation to the nation, and through it to the world. The personal had in it such matters as healing the sick, relieving the distressed, raising the dead, feeding the hungry, easing heart strains, teaching and preaching. It was wholly a personal service. The official had, of course, to do with establishing the great kingdom and bringing all other nations into subjection. Now, it was a bit of the degeneracy of the people and of the times, that when Jesus came the blessings to the individual had slipped from view, and that the national conception, grown gross and coarse, had seized upon the popular imagination, and was to the fore. Jesus filled in perfectly with marvellous fulness the individual details of the prophetic picture. Of course filling in the national depended upon national acceptance, and failure there meant failure for that side. And, of course, He could not fill out the national part except through the nation's acceptance of Him as its king. Rejection there meant a breaking, a hindering of that part. And so Jesus _does not_ fill out the old Hebrew picture of the Messiah. He could not without the nation's consent. Man would have used force to seize the national reins. But, of course, God's man could not do that. It would be against God's plan for man. Everything must be through man's consent. Out of this perplexity there came to be the four Gospels. They grew up out of the needs of the people. Mark seems to have written his first. He makes a very simple recital, setting down the group of facts and sayings as He had heard Peter telling them in many a series of talks. It is the simplest of the four, aiming to tell what he had gotten from another. But it offers no answer to these puzzling questions. Matthew writes his account of the gospel for these great numbers of perplexed, earnest Jewish questioners. They are Palestinian Jews, thoroughly familiar with Jewish customs and places. Sitting backward on the edge of the Hebrew past, thoroughly immersed in its literature and atmosphere, but with his face fastened on Jesus, he composes out of the facts about Jesus and the old prophetic scriptures a perfect bit of mosaic. There is the fascination of a serpent's eye in turning from the prophetic writings to the Gospel of Matthew. Let a man become immersed and absorbed in the vision of the Hebrew prophetic books and then turn to Matthew to get the intense impression that this promised One _has_ come, at last has actually come, _and_--tragedy of tragedies--_is being rejected_. This is the gap gospel. It bridges the gap between the prophetic books and the book of Acts, between the kingdom which has slipped out and the church which has come in. It explains the adjournment of the kingdom for a specified time, the church filling a sort of interregnum in the kingdom. The kingdom is to come later when the church mission is complete. It tells with great care and with convincing power that Jesus filled perfectly the prophecy of the Messiah in every detail _personally_, and did not fill out the _national_ features because of the nation's unwillingness. That is the Matthew Gospel. Paul was the apostle to the outside nations. His great work was outside of Palestine. He dealt with three classes, Jews, outsiders who in religious matters had allied themselves with the Jews, but without changing their nationality, and then the great outside majority, chiefly the great crowds of other nationalities. These people needed a gospel of their own. Their standpoint is so wholly different from the Jews' that Matthew's gospel does not suit, nor Mark's. Paul, through Peter and Barnabas and others, has absorbed the leading facts and teachings of those three years, and works them over for his non-Jewish crowds. He omits much that would appeal peculiarly to Jews, and gives the setting and coloring that would be most natural to his audiences. His studious companion, Doctor Luke, undertakes to write down this account of Jesus' life as Paul tells it, and for Paul's audience and territory, especially these great outside non-Jewish crowds of people. He goes to Palestine, and carefully studies and gathers up all the details and facts available. He adds much that the two previous writers had not included. One can easily understand his spending several days with Mary, the now aged mother of Jesus, in John's home in Jerusalem, and from her lips gleaning the exquisite account of the nativity of her divinely conceived Son. He largely omits names of places, for they would be unknown and not of value or interest. When needed, he gives explanation about places. These three gospels follow one main line; they tell the story of the _rejection_ of Jesus. Then there arose a generation that did not know Jesus, the Jesus that had tramped Jerusalem's streets and Galilee's roads. Some were wondering, possibly, how it was that these gospels are absorbed in telling of Jesus' _rejection_. There surely was a reason for it if He was so sweepingly rejected. So John in his old age writes. His chief thought is to show that from the first Jesus was _accepted by individuals_ as well as _rejected by the nation_. These two things run neck and neck through his twenty-one chapters, along the pathway he makes of witnessed, established facts regarding Jesus. The nation--the small, powerfully entrenched group of men who held the nation's leadership in their tenacious fingers--the nation rejects. It's true. But the ugly reason is plain to all, even the Roman who gave final sentence. From the first, Jesus was accepted by men of all classes, including the most thoughtful and scholarly. He is writing to the generation that has grown up since Jesus has gone, and so to all after generations that knew of Him first by _hearing_ of Him. He is writing after the Jewish capital has been leveled to the ground, and the nation utterly destroyed as a nation, and to people away from Palestine. So he explains Jewish usages and words as well as places in Palestine, to make the story plain and vivid to all. And the one point at which he drives constantly is to make it clear to all after generations that men of every sort of Jesus' own generation believed; questioned, doubted, examined, weighed, _believed_, with whole-hearted loving loyalty followed this Jesus. This decides the order in which, with such rare wisdom, the churchmen later arranged the four gospels in grouping the New Testament books. The order is that of the growth of the new faith of the church from the Jewish outward. Next to the Hebrew pages lies the gap gospel, then the earliest, simplest telling, then the outsiders' gospel, and then the gospel for after generations. <u>The Surprised Church.</u> Man proposes. God disposes. Man may for a time set aside God's plan, but through any series of contrary events God holds steadily to His own plan. Temporary defeat is only adjournment, paving the way for later and greater victory. Another surprise is for the church, that is, the church of later generations, including our own. The old Jew saw only a triumphant king, not a suffering king. He saw only a kingdom. There was no hint of any such thing as a church. The church to-day, and since the day of Constantine, sees only a church. The kingdom has merged into the church or slipped out of view. There seems to be a confused mixing of church and kingdom, but always with the church the big thing, and the kingdom a sort of vague, indefinite--folks don't seem to know just what--an ideal, a spiritual conception, or something like that. The church is supposed to have taken the place of the kingdom. Its mission seems to be supposed to be the doing for the world what the kingdom was to do, but, being set aside, failed to do. In reading the old Book there is a handy sort of explanation largely in use that applies all that can be fitted into the theory in hand, and calmly ignores or conveniently adjusts the rest. The Old Testament blessings for the Jewish kingdom are appropriated and applied to the church. The curses there are handed over to the Jews or ignored. There seems to be a plan of interpreting one part of the Bible one way and another part in a different way. This part is to be taken literally. This other not literally, spiritually, the only guiding principle being the man's preconceived idea of what should be. The air seems quite a bit foggy sometimes. A man has to go off for a bit of fresh air and get straightened out with himself inside. A whiff of keen, sharp air seems needed to clear the fog and bring out the old outlines--a whiff?--a gale! Yet it must needs blow, like God's wind of grace always blows, as a soft gentle breeze. The common law among folk in all other matters for understanding any book or document is that some one rule of interpretation be applied consistently to all its parts. If we attempt to apply here the rule of first-flush, common sense meaning, as would be done to a house lease or an insurance policy, it brings out this surprising thing. The church is distinct from the kingdom. It came through the kingdom failing to come. It fits into a gap in the kingdom plan. It has a mission quite distinct from that of the kingdom. The church is to complete its mission and go. The kingdom, in the plain meaning of the word kingdom, is to come, and be the dominant thing before the eyes of all men. The church goes up and out. The kingdom comes in and down. Later the church is to be a part of the executive of the kingdom. This seems to be the simple standpoint of the Book. The tragic break does not hinder the working of the plan. It simply _retards_ it awhile. A _long_ while? Yes--to man, who counts time by the bulky measurement of years, and can't seem to shake off the _time_ idea; who gets absorbed in moments and hours and loses the broad swing of things. To God?--No. He lives in eternities, and reckons things by events. His eye never loses the whole, nor a single detail of the whole. But yet more. That break leads to an _enriching_ of the plan. Out of hate God reveals love. Not a greater love, but a greater opportunity for greatly revealing love. Man's unwillingness and opposition may _delay_ God's plan, but cannot hinder it. A man can hinder it for his own self if he so insist. But for others he can only delay, not hinder. Though God may patiently yield His own plan, for a time, to something else, through which meanwhile His main purpose is being served, yet He never loses sight of His own plan--the highest expression of His love. And when He does so yield, it is that _through_ the interruption He may in the long run work out the higher and the highest. And so in the fulfilment of God's plan as given by His Hebrew spokesmen, there is a sort of sliding scale. A partial fulfilment takes place, leaving the full fulfilment for the full working out of the plan. The fulfilment takes place in two stages, the first being only less full than the final. Thus Elijah is to come. But first comes John, a man with most striking resemblance to Elijah. The outpouring of the Holy Spirit prophesied in Joel is to be upon _all_ flesh. But before that takes place, comes the Pentecost outpouring, filling out the Joel prophecy in spirit, but not in the full measure. As a matter of good faith the King must come back and carry out the kingdom plan in full. And judging simply by the character of God and of Jesus, I haven't a bit of doubt that He will do it. No amount of disturbance ever alters the love of God, nor His love-plan in the long run, however patiently He may bear with breaks. Even this phase is in the minor strain of the old Hebrew. "They shall look upon Him whom they have _pierced;_ and they shall _mourn_ for Him, as one mourneth for his only son." _There_ is a future meeting of the rejected King and His rejecting people, and this time with sorrow for their former conduct, which implies different conduct at this meeting time. And to this agrees the whole swing of the New Testament teaching. Peter says the going away of Jesus is to be "_until_ the restitution of all things." He is to return and carry out the old plan. It's a bit unfortunate that some earnest, lovable people have pushed this phase of truth so much to the front as to get it out of its proportion in the whole circle of truth. Truth must always be kept in its place in the circle of truth. Truth is fact in right proportion. Out of that it begins to breed misstatement and error. Jesus' coming back is not to wind things up. It is to begin things anew. There will be certain phases of judgment, doubtless, a clearing of the deck for action, but no general judgment till long after. The kingdom is to swing to the front, and bring a new life to the earth for a very long time. Then after that the wind-up. The gospel preached in the Acts is the "gospel of the _kingdom_." They are always expecting it to come. Paul constantly alludes to the Master's return as the great thing to look forward to, as distinctly at the close as at the beginning of his ministry. The book of Revelation is distinctly a kingdom book, and however it may, with the versatility of Scripture to serve a double purpose, foreshadow the characteristics of history for the centuries since its writing, plainly its first meaning has to do with the time when "the kingdom of the world is become the kingdom of our Lord and of His Christ." The King is coming back to straighten matters out, and organize a new running of things. This is the church's surprise, and a great surprise it will apparently be to a great many folks, though not to all. <u>The Surprising Jew.</u> There is a third surprise growing out of this tragic break, the greatest of all--_the Jew_. The first surprises were for the Jew, the later surprise for the church; this surprise has been and is for all the world. The Jew has been the running puzzle of history. A strange, elusive, surprising puzzle he has been to historians and all others. Not a nation, only a people, flagless, countryless, without any semblance of organization, they have been mixed in with all the peoples of the earth, yet always distinctly separate. They have been persecuted, bitterly, cruelly, persistently persecuted, as no other people has ever been, yet with a power of recovery of none other too. With an astonishing vitality, resourcefulness, and leadership, they have taken front rank in every circle of life and every phase of activity, in art, music, science, commerce, philanthropy, statesmanship; holding the keys of government for great nations, of treasure boxes, and of exclusive social circles; making their own standards regardless of others, and with the peculiarity of strongest leadership, pushing on, whether followed or not. And now the past few years comes a new thing. This surprising Jew is surprising us anew. From all corners of the earth they are gathering as not since the scattering to the Assyrian plains, gathering to discuss and plan for the getting into shape as a nation again on the old home soil. Jews of every sort, utterly diverse in every other imaginable way, except this of being Jews, men who hate each other intensely because of divergent beliefs in other matters, yet brushing elbows in annual gatherings to plan with all their old time intensity a new Jewish nation. Along the highways of earth, made and controlled by Christian peoples, they come. What does it mean? They continue to be, as they have been, the puzzle of history. This tragic break of the kingdom and the persistency of the King's plan regardless of the break hold the key to the puzzle. The Jew has been preserved, divinely preserved, against every attempt at his destruction. For he is the keystone in the arch of the King's plan for a coming world-wide dominion. Jesus is God's spirit-magnet for the Jew and for all men. Around Him they will yet gather, with the new Jewish nation in the lead, the church closest to the person of the king, and all men drawn. Jesus is God's organizer of the social fabric of the world. In response to His presence and touch, each in his own place will swing into line and make up a perfect social fabric. With the new zeal for pure, holy living now in the church, the clearer vision coming to her of the Lord's purpose of evangelizing the world, the evidence in all parts of the world of men turning their thought anew to God, this remarkable Jewish movement toward national life, it is a time for earnest men to get off alone on bent knees, and with new, quietly deep fervor, to pray "Thy kingdom come." "Even so come, Lord Jesus." II. The Person of Jesus 1. The Human Jesus. 2. The Divine Jesus. 3. The Winsome Jesus. The Human Jesus <u>God's Meaning of "Human."</u> Jesus is God becoming man's fellow. He comes down by his side and says, "Let's pull up together." Jesus was a man. He was as truly human as though only human. We are apt to go at a thing from the outside. God always reaches _within_, and fastens His hook there. He finds the solution of every problem within itself. When He would lead man back the Eden road to the old trysting place under the tree of life He sent a man. Jesus takes His place as a man and refuses to be budged from the human level with His brothers. That word human has come to have two meanings. The first true meaning, and a second, that has grown up through sin, and sin's taint and trail. The second has become the common popular meaning; the first, the forgotten meaning. It will help us live up to our true possible selves to mark keenly the distinction. The first is God's meaning, the true. The second is sin's, the hurt meaning. Constantly we read the effect and result of sin into God's thought as though that were the real thing. This is grained in deep, woven into the adages of the race. For instance, "To err is human, to forgive divine." Yet this catchy statement is not true, save in part. To forgive is human--God's human--as well as divine. Not to forgive is devilish. It is not human to err. It is possible to the human being to err, as it is with angels, but, in erring, man is leaving the human level and going lower down. To understand what it means to say that Jesus is human we must recall what human meant originally, and has properly come to mean. Man as made by God before the hurt of sin came had certain powers and limitations. His powers, briefly, were, mastery of his body, of his mental faculties, and powers in the spirit realm so lost to us now that we cannot even say definitely what they are. And mastery means poised, mature control, not misuse, nor abuse, nor lack of use, but full proper use. Possibly there were powers of communication between men in addition to speech unknown to us. Then, too, he had dominion over nature, over all the animal creation, over all the forces of nature, and not only dominion, but fellowship with the animal creation and with the forces of nature: dominion _through_ fellowship. He had certain limitations. Having a body was a limitation. The necessity for food, sleep, rest, and for exertion in order to move through space acted as a constant check upon his movements and achievements. He could not go into a building except through some opening. The law of growth, of such infinite value to man under his conditions, was likewise a check. Only by slow laborious effort and application would there come the discipline of mental powers and the knowledge necessary to life's work. <u>The Hurt of Sin.</u> Now, in addition to these natural limitations sin has made other changes. It has lessened the powers and increased the limitations. There has been immense loss in the power over the forces of nature, though now, by slow and very laborious efforts, after centuries, much is being regained. Instead of fellowship there has been an estrangement between man and the lower animals and between man and the forces of nature. All of this has immensely added to man's limitations, though it is true that most men do not know of what has been lost, so complete has the loss been. The natural limitations have been added to. Sin affects the judgment. It brings ignorance and passion, and they affect the judgment. There results lack of care of the body, improper use of the strength, and ignorant and improper use of the bodily functions. Then come weakness and disease and shortened life, not to speak of the misery included in these and the enjoyment missed. In the chain of results comes the toil that is drudgery. Not work, but excessive work, more than one should do, with less strength than one should have. Work itself under natural conditions is always a delight. But through sin has come strain, tugging, friction, unequal division. The changes wrought in nature by sin call for greater effort with less return. Toil becomes slavish and grinding. Then poverty adds its tug. And sorrow comes to sap the strength and take away the buoyancy. And then man's inhumanity to his brothers and sisters. These are some of the limitations added by sin and ever increasing. <u>Our Fellow.</u> Now, Jesus was human; truly naturally human, God's human, and then more because of the conditions He found. The love act of creation brought with it self-imposed limitations to God. And now the love act of saving brings still more. God made man in His own image. In His humanity Jesus was in the image of God, even as we are. Adam was an unfallen man. Jesus was that and more, a tested and now matured unfallen man, and by the law of growth ever growing more. Adam was an innocent, unfallen man up to the temptation. Jesus was a virtuous unfallen man. The test with Him changed innocence to virtue. In His experiences, His works, His temptations, His struggles, His victories, Jesus was clearly human. In His ability to read men's thoughts and know their lives without finding out by ordinary means, His knowledge ahead of coming events, His knowledge of and control over nature, He clearly was more than the human _we_ know. Yet until we know more than we seem to now of the proper powers of an unfallen man matured and growing in the use and control of those powers we cannot draw here any line between human and divine. But the whole presumption is in favor of believing that in all of this Jesus was simply exercising the proper human powers which with Him were not hurt by sin but ever increasing in use. Jesus insisted on living a simple true human life, dependent upon God and upon others. He struck the key-note of this at the start in the wilderness. Everything He taught He put through the test of use. He _was_ what He taught. As a man He has gone through all He calls us to. He blazed the way into every thicket and woods, and then stands ahead, softly, clearly calling, "Come along _after_ Me." He was a normal man, God's pattern unchanged. All the powers of body and mind and spirit were developed naturally and _held in poise_, no lack of development, no over development of some part, no misuse of any power, nor abuse, but each part perfectly fitting in and working naturally with each other part. He experienced all the proper limitations of human life. He needed food and sleep and rest and needed to give His body proper thought and care. He was under the human limitations regarding space and material construction. He got from one place to another by the slow process of using His strength or joining it with nature or that of a beast. He entered a building through an opening as we do. Both of these are in sharp contrast with the conditions after the resurrection. His stock of knowledge came by the law of increase, the natural way; some, and then more, and the more gaining more yet. But there's more than this. There's a bit of a pull inside as one thinks of this, as though Jesus in His _humanity_ after all is on a level above us, hardly alongside giving us a hand. Ah! there is more. He had fellowship with us in the limitation that sin has brought. He shared the experiences that men were actually having. He knew the bitterness of having one's life plan utterly broken and something else--a rude jagged something else--thrust in its place. But the bitterness of the experience never got into His spirit or affected His conduct. The emergency He found down here wrought by sin affected Him. He was _hungry_ sometimes without food at hand to satisfy His hunger. He always showed a peculiar tender sympathy with hungry people. He couldn't bear the sight of the hungry crowds without food. He would go out of His way any time to feed a man. He makes the caring for hungry folks a test question for the judgment time. There's a great note of sympathy here with the race. Every night hundreds of thousands of our brothers and sisters go hungry to bed. It was said at one time that the death rate of London rises and falls with the price of bread. If true when said it probably is more intensely true to-day. Jesus ate the bread of the poor, the coarsest, plainest bread. But then, that may have been simply His good common sense. Jesus got _tired_. Could there be a closer touch! He fell asleep on a pillow in the stern of the boat one day crossing the lake. And the sleep was like that of a very tired man, so sound that the wild storm did not wake Him up. It was His tiredness that made Him wait at Jacob's well while the disciples push on to the village to get food. He wouldn't have asked them to go if they were too tired, too. Was He ever _too_ tired--over-tired--like we get? I wonder. There was the temptation to be so ever tugging. Probably not, for He was wise, and had good self-control, _and_ then He trusted His Father. Yet He probably went to the full limit of what was wise. Certainly He lived a strenuous life those three and a half years. Jesus knew _the pinch of poverty_. He was the eldest in a large family, with the father probably dead, and so likely was the chief breadwinner, earning for Himself and for the others a living by His trade. He was the village carpenter up in Nazareth, an obscure country village. I do not mean abject grinding poverty, of course. That cannot exist with frugality and honest toil. But the pinch of constant management, rigid economy, counting the coins carefully, studying to make both ends meet, and needing to stretch a bit to get them together. It is not unlikely that house rent was one of the items. The ceaselessness of His labors those public years suggests habits of industry acquired during those long Nazareth years. He was used to working hard and being kept busy. It would seem that He had the care of His mother after the home was broken up. At the very end He makes provision for her. John understands the allusion and takes her to his own home. He must have thought a great deal of John to trust His mother to his care. Could there be finer evidence of friendship than giving His friend John such a trust? Jesus was _a homeless man_. Forced from the home village by His fellow townsmen, for those busy years he had no quiet home spot of His own to rest in. And He felt it. How He would have enjoyed a home of His own, with His mother in it with him! No more pathetic word comes from His lips than that touching His homelessness--foxes have holes, and the birds of the air nests, but the Son of Man hath neither hole nor nest, burrowed or built, in ground or tree. And Jesus knew the sharp discipline of _waiting_. He knew what it meant to be going a commonplace, humdrum, tread-mill round while the fires are burning within for something else. He knew, and forever cast a sweet soft halo over all such labor as men call drudgery, which never was such to Him because of the fine spirit breathed into it. Drudgery, commonplaceness is in the _spirit_, not the work. Nothing could be commonplace or humdrum when done by One with such an uncommon spirit. <u>There's More of God Since Jesus Went Back.</u> I have tried to think of Him coming into young manhood in that Nazareth home. He is twenty now, with a daily round something like this: up at dawn likely--He was ever an early riser--chores about the place, the cow, maybe, and the kindling and fuel for the day, helping to care for the younger children, then off down the narrow street, with a cheery word to passers-by, to the little low-ceilinged carpenter shop, for--eight hours?--more likely ten or twelve. Then back in the twilight; chores again, the evening meal, helping the children of the home in difficulties that have arisen to fill their day's small horizon, a bit of quiet talk with His mother about family matters, maybe, then likely off to the hilltop to look out at the stars and talk with the Father; then back again, slipping quietly into the bedroom, sharing sleeping space in the bed with a brother. And then the sweet rest of a laboring man until the gray dawn broke again. And that not for one day, _every_ day, a year of days--_years_. He's twenty-five now, feeling the thews of his strength; twenty-seven, twenty-nine, still the old daily round. Did no temptation come those years to chafe a bit and fret and wonder and yearn after the great outside world? Who that knows such a life, and knows the tempter, thinks _he_ missed those years, and their subtle opportunity? Who that knows Jesus thinks that _He_ missed such an opportunity to hallow forever, fragantly hallow, home, with its unceasing round of detail, and to cushion, too, its every detail with a sweet strong spirit? Who thinks _He_ missed _that chance_ of fellowship with the great crowd of His race of brothers? "In the shop of Nazareth Pungent cedar haunts the breath. 'Tis a low Eastern room, Windowless, touched with gloom. Workman's bench and simple tools Line the walls. Chests and stools, Yoke of ox, and shaft of plow, Finished by the Carpenter Lie about the pavement now. "In the room the Craftsman stands, Stands and reaches out His hands. "Let the shadows veil His face If you must, and dimly trace His workman's tunic, girt with bands At His waist. But His _hands_-- Let the light play on them; Marks of toil lay on them. Paint with passion and with care Every old scar showing there Where a tool slipped and hurt; Show each callous; be alert For each deep line of toil. Show the soil Of the pitch; and the strength Grip of helve gives at length. "When night comes, and I turn From my shop where I earn Daily bread, let me see Those hard hands; know that He Shared my lot, every bit: Was a man, every whit. "Could I fear such a hand Stretched toward me? Misunderstand Or mistrust? Doubt that He Meets me full in sympathy? "Carpenter' hard like Thine Is this hand--this of mine; I reach out, gripping Thee, Son of Man, close to me, Close and fast, fearlessly."[6] To-day up yonder on the throne _there's a Man_--kin to us, bone of our bone, heart of our heart, toil of our toil. _He_--knows. If you'll listen very quietly, you'll hear His voice reaching clear down to you saying, with a softness that thrills, "Steady--steady--_I_ know it all. I'm watching and _feeling_ and _helping_. Up yonder is the hill top and the glory sun and the wondrous air. Steady a bit. Stay up with _Me_ on the glory side of your cloud, though your feet scratch the clay." Surely there's more of God since Jesus went back! The Divine Jesus <u>Jehovah--Jesus.</u> Of all the men who knew Jesus intimately John stands first and highest. He misunderstood for a time. He failed to understand, as did the others. He did not approach the keen insight into Jesus' being and purpose that Mary of Bethany did. But, then, she was a woman. He was a man. Other things being equal (though they almost never are), woman has keener insight into the spirit and motives than has man. But John stood closer to Jesus than any other. Jesus drew him closer. And that speaks volumes for John's fineness of spirit. He alone of the inner twelve did not forsake in the hardest hour that Thursday night, but went in "_with_ Jesus." How grateful must Jesus have been for the presence of His sympathetic friend that black night, with its long intense shadows! Now John writes about Jesus. And what this closest friend says will be of intensest interest to all lovers of Jesus. But it is of even intenser interest to note keenly _when_ John writes. He waits until the end. He gets the longest range on Jesus that his lengthening years will permit. Distance is essential to perspective. You must get far away from a big thing to see it. The bigger the thing to be seen, the longer the distance needed for good perspective. John shows his early appreciation of the size of Jesus by waiting so long. When all his mental faculties are most matured, when any heat of mere youthful attachment has cooled off, when the eye of the spirit is clearest and keenest, when the facts through long sifting have fallen into right place and relation in the whole circle of truth, then the old man settles to his loving task. He had been _looking_ long. His perspective has steadily lengthened with the looking years. The object has been getting bigger and bigger to his eyes. He is getting off as far as possible within his earthly span. At last he feels that he has approximately gotten the range. And with the deep glow of his heart gleaming up out of his eyes, he picks up a freshly-sharpened quill _to tell folk about Jesus_. As he starts in he takes a fresh, long, earnest look. And so he writes, like a portrait artist working, with his eyes ever gazing at the vision of that glorified Face. He seems to say to himself, "How _shall_ I--how _can_ I ever _begin_ to tell them--about _Him_!" Then with a master's skill he sets out to find the simplest words he can find, put together in the simplest sentences he can make, so simple folk everywhere may read and get something of a glimpse of this Jesus, whose glory is filling his eyes and flooding his face and spilling out all over the pages as he writes. He is seeing back so far that he is getting beyond human reach. So he fastens his line into the farthest of the far-reaches of human knowledge, the creation, and then flings the line a bit farther back yet. He must use a human word, if human folk are to understand. So he says "_beginning_." "In the beginning," the beginningless beginning, away back of the Genesis beginning, the earliest known to man. Then he recalls the tremendous fact that when, in the later beginning man knew about, the worlds came into existence, it was by a _word_ being spoken, a _creative, outspoken word_. The power that created things revealed itself in a few simple words. Then he searches into the depths of language for the richest word he knew to express thought outspoken. And taking that word he uses it as a _name_ for this One of whom he is trying to tell. The scholars seem unable to sound the depths of the word that John in his own language uses. It means this, and beyond that, it means _this_, deeper yet, and then _this_. And then all of these together, and more. That is John's word. "In the beginning was _the Word_." Then with a few swift touches of his pen he says, "This was Jesus before He came among men, the man Jesus whom we know." In the earliest beginning the whole heart and thought of God toward man was outspoken in a person. This person, this outspeaking God, it was He who later became known to us as Jesus. Jesus, away back before the farthest reach of our human knowledge, was God speaking out of His inner heart to us. This Jesus _is_ God speaking out His innermost heart to man. Did you ever long to hear God speak? Look at Jesus. He's God's speech. This One was _with_ God. He _was_ God. It was _He_ who spoke things into being, that creative span of time. Only through Him _could_ anything come into being. All life was in Him, and this life was man's light. It is He who came into our midst, shining in the darkness that could neither take Him in nor hold Him down from shining out. Every now and then as he writes John's heart seems near the breaking point, and a sob shakes his pen a bit, as it comes over him all anew, and almost overcomes him, how this wondrous Jesus, this throbbing heart of God, was treated. Listen: "He came to His _own possessions_, and they who were His--own--kinsfolk--and the quiver of John's heart-sob seems to make the type move on the page--_His own kinsfolk_ received him not into their homes, but left Him outside in the cold night; _but_--a glimpse of that glorious Face steadies him again--as many as _did_ receive Him, whether His own kinsfolk or not, to them He gave the right to become _kinsfolk of God_, the oldest family of all." <u>God's Spokesman.</u> John has a way of reaching away back, and then by a swift use of pen coming quickly to his own time, and then he keeps swinging back over the ground he has been over, but each time with some added touch, like the true artist he is. John's statement, "the world was made by Him," takes one back at once to the early Genesis chapters. There the creating One, who, by a word, brings things into existence is called God. And then, that we may identify Him, is called by a _name_, Jehovah. The creator is God named Jehovah. And this Jehovah, John says, was the One who afterward became a Man, and pitched His tent among men. And as one reads the old chapters through, this is the God, the Jehovah, who appears in varying ways to these Old Testament men, one after another. He talked and walked and worked with Adam in completing the work of creation, and then broken-hearted led him out of the forfeited garden. Then to make his standpoint unmistakably plain to every one, before starting in on the witness borne by the herald, he makes a summary. All that he has been saying he now sums up in these tremendous words, "_God_--no one ever yet has seen; the only begotten God,[7] in the bosom of the Father, this One has been the spokesman." In what He _was_, and in what He _did_ as well as in what He _said_, He hath been the spokesman. Here is a difference made between the Father God, whom no one has seen, and the only begotten God, who has been telling the Father out. Now God revealed Himself to men in the Old Testament times. Repeatedly in the Old Testament it distinctly speaks of men seeing God in varying ways and talking with Him. Adam walked with Him, and Enoch, and Noah. Abraham had a _vision_, and talked with the three men whose spokesman speaks as God. Isaac has a night-vision and Jacob a dream and a night meeting with a mysterious wrestler. Moses _spoke_ with Him "face to face" and "mouth to mouth," and is said to have seen His "form." Yet after that first forty days on the mount when Moses hungrily asks for more, He is told that no man could endure the sight of that great glory of God's face. And he is put in to a cleft of the rock, and God's hand put over the opening (in the simple language of the record), and then only the _hinder_ part of God passing is seen, while the wondrous voice speaks. Yet the impression so made upon Moses far exceeds anything previous and completely overawes and melts him down. The elders of Israel "saw God," yet the most _distinct_ impression of anything seen is of the beautiful _pavement under His feet_. Isaiah's most definite impression, when the great vision came to him, was of a train of glory, seraphim and smoke and a voice. Ezekiel has rare power in detailed description. He has overpowering visions of the "glory of Jehovah." Yet the most definite that he can make the description is a storm gathering, a cloud, a fire, a centre spot of brightness, a clearness as of amber, and four very unusual living creatures. These men "saw" God. He "appeared" to them. Evidently that means many different things, yet the word is always honestly used. It never means as we gaze into another man's face. But always there is that profound impression of having been in God's own presence. They _met_ Him. They _saw_ Him. They heard His voice. Yet John says here, "_God_--no one ever yet at any time has seen; the only begotten God, in the bosom of the Father--this One has been the spokesman." Clearly John, sweeping the whole range of past time, means this: they saw Him whom we call Jesus. Jesus is Jehovah, the only _begotten_ God. To all these men the only begotten God was the spokesman of the Father. Sometimes it was a voice that came with softness but unmistakable clearness to the inner spirit of man, a soundless voice. Sometimes in a dream, a more realistic vision of the night or of the day time; again, in the form of a man, thus foreshadowing the future great coming. This One who _came_ to them in various ways, this Jehovah has _come_ to men as Jesus. This is John's statement. This is the setting of His gospel. The setting becomes a part of the interpretation of what the gospel contains. It explains what this that follows _meant to John_. Is it surprising that John's Gospel has been pitched upon as the critics' chief battle-field of the New Testament? Battle-field is a good word. The fire has been thick and fast, needle-guns--sharp needles--and machine-guns--Gatling guns and rattling--but no smokeless powder. The cloud of smoke of a beautiful scholarly gray tinge has quite filled the air. Men have been swinging away from a man, the Man to a book. But no critic's delicately shaded and shadowing cloud of either dust or smoke, or both, can hide away the Man. He's too tall and big. The simple hearted man who will step aside from the smoke and noise to the shade of a quiet tree, or the quiet of some corner, with this marvellous bit of manuscript from John's pen for his keen, Spirit-cleared eye, will be enraptured to find a _Man, the_ Man, the _God_-Man. <u>Whom Moses Saw.</u> What did Jesus say about Himself? The critics of the world, including the skeptical, infidel critics, seem to agree fully and easily on a few things about this Jesus on whose dissection they have expended so much time and strength. They agree that in the purity of His life, the moral power of His character, the wisdom of His teachings, the rare poise of His conduct and judgment, the influence exerted upon men, He clear over-tops the whole race. Surely His own opinion of Himself is well worth having. And it is easy to get, and tremendous when gotten. It fits into John's conception with unlabored simplicity and naturalness. According, then, to Jesus' own words, He had come down out of heaven, and, by and by, would go back again to where He was before. He had come on an errand for the Father down into the world, and when the errand was finished He would go back home to the Father again. He had seen the Father, and He was the only one who _had_ ever seen Him. He was the Son of God in a sense that nobody else was, a begotten Son, and the only Son who had been begotten. Therefore He naturally called God His Father, and not only that, but His _own_ Father, making Himself _equal_ with the Father. This statement it was that swung the leaders over from silent contempt to aggression in their treatment of Him. The Jews understood this perfectly and instantly. They refused to accept it. Reckoning it blasphemous, they attempted to stone Him. They were partly right. If it were not true, it _was_ blasphemous, and their law required stoning. Yet they were fools in their thought, and not even keen fools. For no blasphemous man could have revealed the character and moral glory that Jesus constantly revealed before their eyes. Then follows one of John's exquisite reports of Jesus' words in reply. In it run side by side the essential unity of spirit between Father and Son, with the absolute life-giving or creative power invested in the Son. A sweet, loving, loyal unity of spirit is between the two. It is love unity. There can be none closer. In this unity the Son has full control of life for all the race of men, and final adjustment of the character wrought out by each. At His word all who have gone down under death's touch will come into life again, and each by the character he has developed will go by a moral gravitation to his natural place. And then follows the bringing forward of witnesses, John, the Father, the works, the Scriptures, and the climax is reached in the one whose name was ever on their lips--Moses. And this is the significant reference to Moses, "He wrote of _Me_." Sift into that phrase a bit. It cannot mean, he wrote of me in the sacrifices provided for with such minute care. For Moses clearly had had no such thought. It might be supposed to mean that unconsciously to himself there was, in his writings about the sacrifices, that which would be seen later to refer to Jesus in His dying. And there is the resemblance in purity between Moses' sacrifices and the great Sacrifice. Yet where there is so much plain meaning lying out on the face of the thing, this obscure meaning may be dropped or checked in as an incidental. There is a single allusion in Moses' writing to a prophet coming like himself. But Moses is ever absorbed in writing about a wondrous One who revealed Himself to him in the burning bush, the pillar of cloud and fire, the little peaked tent off by itself on the outskirts of the camp, and the soft distinct voice. There was the One with whom He had twice spent forty days in the mount, and whose great glory left its traces in his face. Ever Moses is writing of this wondrous Jehovah. Jesus quietly says, "He wrote of _Me_." Another time He said, "I and the Father are one," provoking another stoning. Invisibly holding back their hands He said, "The Father is in Me, and I in the Father," and again they are aroused. In connection with this word "Father," it may be noted that the Old Testament has been called the "dispensation of the Father." But this seems scarcely accurate. God speaking, appearing there is spoken of as Father very rarely, and then chiefly in the great promises of the future glory. The common name for Him is _Jehovah_. Jesus practically gives us the name Father for God. He constantly refers to God as _His_ Father. It was He who taught us to call God Father. He never speaks of Jehovah, but of the Father. His language in this always fits in perfectly, as of course it would, with John's standpoint, that Jesus is the Jehovah of the Old Testament times. A little later Jesus says, "Moses gave you not the manna from heaven, but--my Father giveth (note the change in the time element of the word)--giv_eth_ you the true bread." It is a sort of broken, readjusted sentence, as though He was going to say who it was that gave the manna, and then changes to speaking of the Father and the present. He does not say who it was that _did_ give that manna. It is plain enough from John's standpoint what _he_ understands Jesus to mean as he puts the incident into his story. <u>Jesus is God Wooing Man.</u> During the autumn before His death, while in attendance on one of the Jerusalem feasts, the leaders are boasting of their direct descent from Abraham, and attacking Jesus. On their part the quarrel of words gets very bitter. They ask sharply, "Who do you pretend to be? Nobody can be as great as Abraham; yet your words suggest that you think you are." Then came from Jesus' lips the words, spoken in all probability very quietly, "Your father Abraham exulted that he might see my day, and he saw it, and was glad." It is a tremendous statement, staggering to one who has not yet grasped it. In attempting to find its meaning, some of our writing friends have supposed it means that, after Abraham's death, when he was in the other world, at the time of Jesus being on the earth, he was conscious of Jesus having come and was glad. But this hardly seems likely, else it would read, "He _sees_, and _is_ glad." The seeing and gladness were both in a day gone by. Others have supposed that it refers to the scene on Moriah's top, when the ram used as a sacrifice instead of Isaac enabled Abraham to see ahead _by faith_, not actually, the coming One. But this, too, seems a bit far-fetched, because Abraham was surprised by the occurrences of that day. He fully expected to sacrifice his son, apparently, so there could be no exultant looking forward to _that_ day for him. And deeper yet, the coming One was not expected to be a sacrifice, but a king. The natural meaning seems to lie back in Abraham's own life. Abraham was Israel's link with the idolatrous heathen, as well as the beginning of the new life away from idolatry. He grew up among an idolatrous people, yet in his heart there was a yearning for the true God. Back in his old home there came to him one day the definite inner voice to cut loose from these people, his own dear kinsfolk, and go out to a strange unknown land, with what seemed an indefinite goal, and there would come to him a vision of the true God. It was a radical step for a man of seventy-five years to take. He was living among his own kinsfolk. His nest was feathered. It meant leaving a certainty for an uncertainty. It meant breaking his habit of life, a very hard thing to do, and starting out on a wandering roaming life. Not unlikely his neighbors thought it a queer thing, a wild goose chase, this going off to a strange land in response to a call of God that he might see a vision of the true God. Decidedly visionary. But the old man was clear about the voice. The fire burned within to know God, the real true God. All else counted as nothing against that. He would _see God_. And a warming glow filled his heart and shone in his eyes and kept him steady during the break, the good-byes, the start away, the journeying among strangers. Into the strange land he came, and pitched his tent. And--one night--in his tent--among these strange Canaanites, there came the promised vision. "Jehovah appeared unto Abraham," and tied up there anew with him the promise made back in his native land. This seems to be the simple explanation of these words about Abraham. "He exulted that he might see my day. He _saw_ ... and was glad." With a contemptuous curl of the lip instantly they come back with: "Thou art not yet fifty years old, and hast thou seen Abraham?" More quietly than ever, with the calmness of conscious truth, come those tremendous words, emphasized with the strongest phrase He ever used, "Verily, verily, I say unto you, before Abraham was born, I am." The common version omits "born," and so the sharp contrast is not made clear. Abraham was _born_. He came into existence. Jesus says "I _am_." That "I am" is meant to mean absolute existence. An eternal now without beginning or ending. Their Jewish ears are instantly caught by that short sentence. Jesus was identifying Himself with the One who uttered that sentence out of the burning bush! Again stones for speech. Again the invisible power holds their feverish impotent hands. That "I am" explains the meaning of the expression "my day." It stretches it out backward beyond Abraham's day. It lengthens it infinitely at both ends. This is Jesus' point of view, this marvellous Jesus. He is the Jehovah in Genesis' first chapters. It is with Him that Adam broke tryst that day, and with Him that Enoch renewed the tryst after such a long wait, and took those long walks. It is His voice and presence in the black topped, flaming mount that awed the Israel crowd so. His voice it was that won and impressed so winsomely the man waiting in the hand-covered cleft of the rock that early morning, and long after, that other rugged, footsore man, standing with face covered in the mouth of a cave. Isaiah saw _His_ glory that memorable day in the temple. It was He who rode upon the storm before Ezekiel's wondering eyes and who walks with His faithful ones on the seven times heated coals, and reveals to Daniel's opened ears the vision of his people's future. Jehovah--He comes as Jesus. Jesus--He is Jehovah. No sending of messengers for this great work of winning His darling back to the original image and mastery and dominion will do for our God. He comes Himself. Jesus is God coming down to woo man up to Himself again. The Winsome Jesus <u>The Face of Jesus</u> Jesus was God letting man see the beauty of His face and listen to the music of His voice, and feel the irresistibly gentle drawing power of His presence. Jesus was very winsome. He _drew_ men. He said that if He were lifted up He _would_ draw men. They who heard that could believe it, for He drew them before He was lifted up. He drew the _crowds_. Yet many a leader that has drawn the crowds has led them astray. He drew _men_--men of strongest mentality, scholarly, cultured, thoughtful men, and every other sort. Yet men have often been befooled in their leaders. He drew _women_. Here is a great test. Men may be deceived in a man. But woman, true strong woman, pure womanly woman, because of her keen discernment into spirit and motive, cannot be deceived, when true to her inner conviction. He drew _children_. This was the highest test. The child, fresh from the hand of God, before it is appreciably hurt by parents or surroundings, is drawn to the pure and good. They are repelled by selfishness and badness. They draw out the best. They are drawn only by the true and beautiful and good. That is, in the early years, before the warping of a selfish, sinful atmosphere has hurt them. This is an infallible test. This told most His winsomeness. _Bad people_ were drawn to Him. That is, bad in their lives. Rarely indeed is a human so wholly bad as to be untouched by true goodness, by sincere love. Here is the touchstone of service. He touched that spot in the lowest, and by His presence increased the hunger of their hearts for purity and for sympathy up toward purity. His _enemies_--a very small group, but in a position of great power, holding the national reins--His enemies were drawn to Him, by a drawing they fought, but could not resist. They admired Him while hating Him. His presence disturbed because it accused the opposite in them. They recognized the purity, the love, the rugged honesty, the keen insight, the poised wisdom, and they hated Him the more intensely, so committed were they in the practice of their lives to the opposite of these. Jesus was very winsome. It was to be expected of Him, for He was a _man_ unstained and unhurt by sin. Man, God's sort of man, is winsome, for he is in the image of God. It was to be expected of Him, for He was God. And God is winsome. Did men but _know_ God they would throw themselves at His feet in the utter abandon of strong love. Jesus' _personality_ must have been very attractive, because of the man living within. He found expression in it. The spirit of a man finds expression in his presence. He goes out to others through his presence. From what we know of Jesus His presence must have had something distinctly impressive about it. He would have a gently majestic bearing. He walked upright like the king He was. He had the true dignity that is not conscious of its dignity. Jesus must have had a remarkable _face_. One's presence centers peculiarly in the face. It comes to bear the imprint of the man inside. A man cannot keep out of his face the dominant spirit of his life. The sin of the life, the purity of the heart, is always stamped on the face. The finer the nature the plainer is the facial index. That is the reason women's faces reveal the inner spirit more than men's. Quite apart from His features, the inner spirit of Jesus must have made His face beautiful with a manly fascinating beauty. Yet in all likelihood those features were finely chiselled and the skin clear, and with the transfiguring power of the spirit within, that face must have been a great face in its beauty. Jesus' face must have borne the impress of His experiences. The early home experience would bring out patience and simplicity and sympathy. Those forty days in the wilderness would intensify the purity and strength, and bring evidence of struggle and of victory. The Jordan waters, with the voice of approval, would deepen the mark of peace. Constant contact with the sick and suffering would bring out yet more the tenderness and gentleness. Constant teaching of undisciplined folk would intensify the patience. Constant contact with sin would intensify the unflinching sternness of purity. The Transfiguration would deepen the spirituality, with possibly an added glory-touch. Gethsemane wrote in the deep lines of intense suffering, with the intangible spirituality of victory and great peace. And, at the last, Calvary with its scars marked in a beauty of suffering and of spirituality refined beyond description. A marvellous face that human face of Jesus. _Indeed_, the glory of God was in the face of Jesus as He walked quietly among men. Looking into that face men saw God. That simple, gentle, patient, pure face, with its deep peace and victory and yet its yearning--that was God looking out into men's faces. <u>The Music of God in the Voice of Jesus.</u> The face of that face was the _eye_. The eye is the soul of the face. Through it the man looks out and shows himself. Through it we look in and see him. Where the fires of self-ambition burn the flame is always in the eye. Only where those fires are out or never lit does the real beauty-light of God come into the eye. Great leaders have ever been noted for their eyes, before whose glance strong men have cowed and quailed, or eagerly coveted the privilege of service. Those must have been matchless eyes of Jesus, keen, kindly, flashing out blinding lightning, sending out softest subdued light. The Nazareth mob couldn't stand the look of those eyes, nor the bolder Jerusalem mob reaching down for the stones, nor the deputation sent to arrest, nor even the reckless Roman soldiers at the garden gate. The disciples who were closest sometimes followed him afraid and amazed because of the look of those eyes. And yet the little children put their arms around His neck, and looked up fearlessly and lovingly. And the crowd listened by the hour with their eyes fastened upon His. The _voice_ of Jesus must have been music itself. It speaks once of His singing a hymn. How we would all have loved to hear Him sing! But that voice was music at all times, whether in song or speech. Low, modulated, rhythmic, gentle, rich, resonant--wondrous music. Those who have heard Spurgeon and Gladstone almost always speak of the rare musical quality in their voices. So, and more would it be with this Jesus. It has been said that the personality reveals itself in the speech. It reveals itself yet more, and more subtly, in the sound of the voice. The power or weakness of a man is felt in the sound of his voice. The blind have unusual skill in reading character in the voice. Were we wiser we could read men's character much more quickly in the voice. Children and animals do. The voice that stilled the waves and spoke forgiveness of sins, that drew the babes, and talked out to thousands at once, must have been full of sweetest music and thrilling with richest power. Jesus made much of the personal _touch_, another means whereby a man's power goes out to his fellow. He believed in close personal touch. He drew men into close contact with Himself. He promised that when gone Himself, Somebody else was to come, and live as He had done right with us in close touch. He touched those whom He helped, regardless of conditions. There was power in His touch. Some of Himself went out through that touch of His. The fever, the weakness, the disease fled before His touch. Is it to be wondered at that everywhere, in the temple yards, on Judean hills or Galilean, by the blue waters of Galilee or the brown waters of the Jordan, men crowded to Jesus? They couldn't help it. He was irresistible in His presence, His face, His eye, and voice and touch. It could not be otherwise. He was God on a wooing errand after man. Moses' request of Jehovah, "Show me ... Thy glory," was being granted now to the whole nation. In Jesus they were gazing on the glory of God. A veiled glory? Yes, much veiled, doubtless, yet not as much as when Moses looked and listened. Jesus _draws_ men. All classes, all nations, all peoples are drawn to Him. It is remarkable how all classes in Christendom quote Jesus, and claim Him as the leader of their own particular views. They will selfishly claim Him who will not follow Him. Jesus draws _us_. Let us each yield to His drawing. That is the sincerest homage and honor we can give Him. That will draw out in us to fullest measure the original God-likeness obscured by sin. Let us lift this drawing Jesus _up_ by our lives of loyalty to Him, by our modest, earnest testimony for Him, by our unselfish love for the men He loved so. _Up_ let us lift Him before men's eyes; _up_ on the cross, transfigured by His love; _up_ on the Olives' Mount, Victor over all the forces of sin and death; _up_ at the Father's right hand in glory, waiting the fullness of time for the completion of His plan for man. Thou great winsome God, we have seen Thy beauty in this Jesus. We have heard Thy music in His voice. We feel the strong pull upon our hearts and wills of Thy presence in Him. We cannot resist Thee if we would. We would not if we could. We are coming a-running to keep tryst with Thee under the tree of life thou art planting down in our midst. We will throw ourselves at Thy feet in the utter abandon of our strongest love, Thy volunteer slaves. III. The Great Experiences of Jesus' Life 1. The Jordan: The Decisive Start. 2. The Wilderness: Temptation. 3. The Transfiguration: An Emergency Measure. 4. Gethsemane: The Strange, Lone Struggle. 5. Calvary: Victory. 6. The Resurrection: Gravity Upward. 7. The Ascension: Back Home Again Until---- The Jordan: The Decisive Start <u>The Anvil of Experience.</u> Experience is going through a thing _yourself_, and having it go _through_ you. And "through" here means not as a spear is thrust through a man's body, piercing it, but as fire goes through that which it takes hold of, permeating; as an odor goes through a house, pervading it. A man _knows_ only what he experiences; what he goes through; what goes through him. He knows only what he is _certain_ of. And he is certain of only that which he _experiences_. It is one of the natural limitations of our humanity that it is so. Even the primary knowledge of space, and time, and so on comes in this way. A man knows space only by seeing or thinking through space. He knows time only by living consciously through some moments of time. Such knowledge is primary only in point of time. Experience is weaving fact into the fabric of your life. The swift drive of the double-pointed shuttle, the hard push of the loom back and forth _goes through you_. Experience is sowing truth in actual personal occurrences. The cutting, upturning edge of the plow, the tearing teeth of the harrow, go on inside your very being, while perhaps the moments drag themselves by, slow as snails. Experience is hammering truth into shape upon the anvil of your life, while the pounding of the lightning trip-hammer is upon your own quivering flesh. It is seeing that which is most precious to you, so dear as to be your very life, seeing that in a furnace, seven times heated, while you, standing helplessly by, hope and trust perhaps, and yet _wonder_, even while trusting, wonder _if_--(shall I say it the way your heart talks it out within?), or, at most, wonderingly watch with heart almost stopped, and eyes big, to see _if_ the form of the Fourth will intervene in _your_ case, or whether something else is the Father's will. Experience is the three young Hebrews stepping with quiet, full, heel-to-toe tread into the hotly flaming furnace, not sure but it meant torture and death, only sure that it was the only right thing to do. It is the old Babylonian premier actually lowering nearer and nearer to those green eyes, and yawning jaws, and ivories polished on many a bone, clear of duty though not clear of anything else. A man having a financial understanding with his church, or a contract with his employer, or a comfortable business, may be an earnest Christian, living a life of prayer and realizing God's power in his life, but he cannot know the meaning of the word _trust_ as George Mueller knew it when he might waken in the morning with not enough food in hand for the breakfast, only an hour off, of the two thousand orphans under his care, and in answer to his waiting prayer have them all satisfied at the usual breakfast hour. George Mueller himself did not know the meaning of "trust" before such experiences as he did afterwards. No one can. We _know_ only what we _experience_. Now Jesus became a perfect man by means of the experiences He went through. He is an older _Brother_ to us, for He has gone through ahead where we are now going, and where we are yet to go. He was perfectly human in this, that He did not know our human experiences, save as He Himself went through those experiences. With full reverence be it said of the divine Jesus, it was necessarily so, because He was so truly human. The whole diapason of human experience, with its joyous majors and its sobbing minors, He knew. Except, of course, the experiences growing out of sin. These He could not know. They belong to the abnormal side of life. And there was nothing abnormal about Him. It was fitting that Jesus, coming as a man to save brother men, should develop the full human character through experience. And so He did. And forever He has a fellow-feeling with each of us, at every point, for He Himself has _felt our feelings_. Jesus' experiences brought Him suffering; keen, cutting pain; real suffering. Where there is possible danger or pain in an approaching experience there is _shrinking_. It is a normal human trait to shrink from pain and danger. Jesus' experiences in the suffering they brought to Him far outreach what any other human has known. He shrank in spirit over and over again as the expected experiences approached. He shrank back as none other ever has, for He was more keenly alive to the suffering involved. He suffered doubly: in the shrinking beforehand; in the actual experience. But, be it keenly remembered, shrinking does not mean _faltering_. Neither suffering in anticipation nor actually ever held Him back for a moment, nor an inch's length, nor in the spirit of full-tilted obedience to His Father's plan. This makes Jesus' experiences the greatest revealers of His character. He was sublime in His character, His teachings, His stupendous conceptions. He was most sublime in that wherein He touches us most closely--His experiences. With a new, deep meaning it can be said, knowledge is power. We humans enter into knowledge and so into power only through experience. Experiences are sent, or when not directly sent are allowed to come, that through these may come knowledge, through knowledge power, through both the likeness of God, and so, true service in helping men back to God. Let us, you and I, go through our experiences _graciously_, not grudgingly, not balking, cheerily, aye, with a bit of joy in the voice and a gleam of light in the eye. And remember, and not forget, that alongside is One who _knows_ the experience that just now is ours, and, knowing, sympathizes. There were with Jesus the commoner experiences and the great outstanding ones: the mountain range with the foot-hills below and the towering peaks above. From His earliest consciousness until the cross was reached, Jesus ran the whole gamut of human experiences common to us all, with some greater ones, which are the same as come to all men, but with Him intensified clear beyond our measurements. These greater experiences were tragic until the great tragedy was past. Each has in it the shadow of the greatest. The Jordan waters meant turning from a kingdom down another path to a cross. The Wilderness fight pointed clearly to successive struggles, and the greatest. The Transfiguration mount meant turning from the greatest glory of His divinity which any earthly eye had seen to the little hill of death, which was to loom above the mount. Gethsemane is Calvary in anticipation. Calvary was _the_ tragedy when love yielded to hate and, yielding, conquered. There love held hate's climax, death, by the throat, extracted the sting, drew the fang tooth, and drained the poison sac underneath. Love's surgery. And the tinge of the tragedy remains in the Resurrection and Ascension in lingering scars. They are still in that face. It is a scale ascending from the first. In each is seen the one thing from a different angle. The cross in advance is in each experience, growing in intensity till itself is reached, and casting its shadow as it is left behind. <u>Our Brother.</u> Through the crowds at the Jordan River, there quietly walked one morning a Man who came up to where John stood. He took a place in the line of those waiting to be baptized, so indicating His own intention. John is absorbed in his work, but as he faces this Man, next in order, he is startled. This is no ordinary man. That face! Its wondrous purity! That intangible something revealing the man! That spirit looking through those eyes into his own! In that presence he feels his own impurity. It is the instant unpremeditated recognition by this fine-grained Spirit-taught John of his Master, his Chief. The remonstrance that instinctively springs to his lips is held in check by the obedience he at once feels is due this One. Whatever _He_ commands is right, however unexpected it may be, or however strange it may seem. Why did Jesus go to John for baptism? The rite was a purifying one. It meant confession of sin, need of cleansing, a desire for cleansing, a purpose to turn from wrong and sin and lead a new life. How _could_ Jesus accept such a rite for Himself? Why did He? Read in the light of the whole story of Jesus the answer seems simple. Jesus was stepping down into the ranks of man as His _Brother_. The kingdom He was to establish among men was to be set up and ruled over by man's Brother. The salvation was to be by One, close up, alongside. The King will brush elbows with His subjects, for they are brothers too. No long-range work for Jesus, but personal touch. In accepting John's baptism, Jesus was allying Himself with the race of men He had come to lead up, and out, as King. He was allying Himself with them _where they were_. It was not the path always trodden by man in climbing to a throne. But it was the true path of fellowship with them in their needs. He was getting hold of hands, that He might be their leader up to the highlands of a new life. He steps to their level. He would lift from below. He would get by the side of the man lowest down. It was clear evidence at the start that He was the true Messiah, the King. He was their _Brother_. He would get down alongside, and pull up with them side by side out of the ditch of sticky mud up to good footing. And mark keenly--and the heart glows a bit at the thought--the point He chooses for getting into that contact with His brothers. It is _the point where they are turning from sin_. John's baptism meant turning from sin. It is at that point that Jesus comes forward. A man can always be live-sure of Jesus meeting him there, close up, with outstretched hand. He is waiting eagerly, and steps up quickly to a man's side as in his heart he turns from sin. But there's more yet. Read in the after light cast upon it there is much more. This was the voluntary path away from the kingdom. It was the beginning of all that came after. The road up the hill of the cross not far away led out of those waters. This was the starting point. Jesus calmly turned His face for the time being--a long time it has proved--away from the promised Kingdom of His Father and toward the planned cross of Satan. It meant much, for it was the _first step_ into the path marked out. What the Father had chosen for Him, He now chooses out for Himself. So every bit of service, every plan, must be _twice chosen:_ by God for a man; by the man for himself as from God. He entered eagerly, for this was His Father's plan. That itself was enough for Jesus. But, too, it was the path where His needy brothers were. That would quicken His pace. It was the road wherein He would meet the _enemy_. And with a fresh prayer in His heart and a quiet confidence in His eye He steps into the road with that calmness that strong purpose gives. As it proved there was danger here for Him. This was not the way approved by man's established ideals for starting a kingdom. He was driving straight across the carefully marked out roads of man's usage. He was disregarding the "No trespassing" signs. There was danger here. A man cutting a new path right across old ones meets stubborn undergrowth, and ugly thorn hedges. Jesus struck the thorns early, and right along to the last getting sharper. And they tore His face badly, as He cut the way through for His brothers. Yes, there were dangers as He pushed His way through the undergrowth down to the water. Poison ivy thick, and fanged snakes darting guiltily aside from fear even while wanting to strike in, tangled, gnarly roots hugging the ground close, and bad odors and gases, and the light obscured--dangers thick! And these Jordan waters prove chill and roily. His stepping in stirs the mud. The storm winds sweep down the valley. A bit of a hill up above to the west casts a long sinister shadow out over the water. And He must have known the dangers. No need of supernatural knowledge here. His familiarity with David and Jeremiah and other Hebrew writers, His knowledge of human nature as it had grown to be, His knowledge of a foe subtler than human, the fine sensitiveness of His finely organized sensitive spirit--these would lead Him to scent the danger. But He falters not. The calmness of His will gives steadiness to His step down the river's bank. Aye, the dangers lured Him on. He had a keen scent for danger, for it was danger to His race of men, whose King He was in right and would prove Himself in fact. He would draw the thorn points by His own flesh that men might be saved their stinging prod and slash. He would neutralize the burning acid poison of the undergrowth by the red alkaline from His own veins. He would use the thorns to draw the healing salve for the wounds they had caused. He would put His firm foot on the serpent's head that His brothers might safely come along after. This was the meaning of His plunge into the swift waters by John's side. The intense significance of this decisive step by Jesus is brought out strikingly by what follows. What followed is God's comment upon it. Quick as the act was done came the Father's approval. John's crowds were not the only intent lookers-on that day. Jesus stands praying. Since He is going this road it must be a-knee. Then the rift in the upper blue, the Holy Spirit straight from the Father's presence comes upon the waiting Man and the voice of pleased approval. And the heart of Jesus thrilled with the sound of that approving voice. He could go any length, down any steep, if He might only ever hear that voice in approval. Then the Holy Spirit took possession of Him for the earth-mission. In the pathway of obedience down that rough steep came the coveted power of God upon Him. Three times in His life the Father's voice came, and each time at a crisis. Now at the plunge into the Jordan waters, which meant brotherhood with the race, and meant, too, a frostier chill of other waters later on. At the opening of the Greek door through which led an easy path to a great following, and away from a cross, when Jesus, with an agony intensified by the intensified nearing of those crossed logs, turned His step yet more steadily in the path He had chosen that first Jordan day. And between these two, on the mountain top, when the whole fabric of the future beyond the cross hung upon three poor wobbling, spiritually stupid, mentally untrained Galilean fishermen. This is the meaning of that step into the Jordan. It was the decisive start. The Wilderness: Temptation <u>The University of Arabia.</u> The Jordan led to the Wilderness by a straight road. A first step without slipping leads to the second. Victory opens the way to fresh struggles for higher victories. The perfect naturalness of Jesus is revealed here, His human naturalness. He had taken the decisive step into the Jordan waters. And while absorbed in prayer had become conscious of a new experience. The Spirit of God came upon Him in unusual measure. The effect of that always is to awaken to new alertness and vigor every mental power, as well as to key up every moral resolve. Jesus is _caught_ at once by the grasp, the grip of this new experience of the wondrous Spirit's control. Keenly alive to its significance, awakened anew to the part He was to perform, and to a consciousness of His peculiar relation to God and to man, He becomes wholly absorbed in this newly intensified world of thought. Under the Spirit's impulse, He goes off into the solitude of the wilderness to think. And in this mood of deep absorption, with every faculty fully awake and every high moral impulse and purpose in full throb, came the temptation with the recorded climax at the close. There came an intensifying of all His former consciousness, and convictions, regarding His own personality and His mission to mankind, as absorbed from the Hebrew parchments, with the undercurrent, lying away down, of a tragedy to be met on the way up to the throne. Jesus was a man of great _intensity_. He could become so absorbed as to be unconscious of other things. As a boy of twelve, when first He caught fire, He was so taken up with the flood of thoughts poured into His mind by the temple visit, that for three days and two nights He remained away from His parents, simply absorbed in the world of thought awakened by that visit. He could remain forty days in the wilderness without being conscious of hunger. The impress of that forty days mentally remain with Him during the remainder of His human life. Intensity is possible only to strong mentality. The child's mind, the undisciplined mind, the mind weakened by sickness or fatigue goes quickly from one thing to another. The finest mental discipline is revealed in the greatest intensity, while yet all the faculties remain at normal, not heated, nor disturbed by the discoloration of heat. He withdrew into the wilderness to think and pray. He wanted to get away from man that He might realize God. With the near flaming footlights shut out, He could see clearly the quiet upper lights, His sure guides. These forty days gave Him the true perspective. Things worked into proportion. He never lost this wilderness perspective. The wilderness means to Him _alone with God_, the false perspective, the flaming of near lights, the noise of men's shuffling feet all gone. And when He went out among men for work, that wilderness atmosphere went with Him. And when the crowds thickened, and work piled up, and dangers intensified, off He would go for a fresh bit of improvised wilderness. The temptation follows the natural lines of man's powers. Man was made with mastery of himself, kingship over nature and all its forces, and utter dependence, even for his very breath, upon God. While made perfect in these, he would know them fully only through growth. He had three relationships, to God, his fellows, and himself. His relation to God would keep true the relation to himself, and adjust the relation to his fellows. Keeping God in proper proportion in the perspective keeps one's self in its true place always. Utter dependence by every man upon God would make perfect harmony with his fellows. The dominion of nature was through self-mastery, and this in turn would be only through the practice of utter dependence upon God. Now all sin comes under this grouping, the relation to God, the relation to others, within one's self. Temptation follows the line of exaggeration, misuse, misadjustment, wrong motive. It pushes trust over into unwarranted presumption. Dominion over nature crosses the line into the relation to other men. Fellow-feeling gives way to an ambition to get ahead of the other man and to boss him. Proper appetite and desire become lust and passion. The dominion that man was to have over nature, he seeks also to have over his brothers, so crossing the line of his own proper dominion and trespassing on God's. Only God is to have dominion over all men. Where a man is lifted to eminence of rule among his fellows he is simply acting for Somebody else. He is not a superior. He is a servant of God, in ruling over his fellows. John's famous grouping of all sin as "the lust of the flesh, lust of eye and pride of life," refers to what is out "in the world." It touches only _two_ of these three: sin in one's self and in relation to his fellows, with the dominion line out of adjustment. Out in the world God has been left clean out, so the phase of trust isn't touched upon by John. Jesus' temptation follows these natural lines. Improper use of power for the sake of the bodily appetite; to presume on God's care in doing something unwarranted; to cross the line of dominion over nature and seek to control men. For, be it remembered, Jesus was here as a man. The realm of the body, the realm of religion, the realm of wrong ambition, these were the temptation lines followed then, and before, and ever since. The going into the wilderness was planned by the Holy Spirit. He was in charge of this campaign of Jesus to win back the allegiance of man and the dominion of the earth. Jesus yielded Himself to the control of the Holy Spirit for His earthly mission, even as later the Holy Spirit yielded Himself wholly to the control of the exalted Jesus for _His_ earthly mission. Here the Spirit proves Himself a keen strategist. He drives hard at the enemy. He forces the fighting. A decided victory over the chief at the start would demoralize all the forces. It would be decisive of the whole conflict, and prophetic of the final outcome. Every demon possessing a man on the earth heard of his chief's rout that day, and recognized his Victor, and feared Him, and knew of his own utter defeat in that of his chief. Having gotten the chief devil on the run, every sub-devil fled at Jesus' approach. The Spirit would show to man the weakness of the devil. The devil can do nothing with the man who is calmly set in his loyalty to God. This new Leader of the race was led up to the dreaded devil that men might know for all time his weak spot. The poison of those fangs is completely neutralized by simple, steady loyalty to God. But the rattles do make a big scary noise. It is safe to go where the Spirit of God leads, and not safe to go anywhere else. The wilderness, any wilderness, becomes a place of victory if the Spirit of God be leading there. Any temptation is a chance for a victory when the Spirit leads the way. A man's controlling motive determines the attractiveness or ugliness of any place. To Jesus this wilderness barren was one of the mountain peaks. Its forbidding chasms and ugly gullies and darting snakes ever afterwards speak to Him of sweet victory. The first great victory was here. He made the wilderness to blossom with the rose of His unswerving loyalty to His Father. And its fragrance has been felt by all who have followed Him there. To the tempter it was a wilderness indeed, barren of anything he wanted. He quit it the first chance he could make. He would remember the beasts and serpents and dreary waste. For here he received his first death-thrust. Every man whom God has used has been in the wilderness. The two great leaders before Jesus, and the great leader after Him, had each a post-graduate course in the University of Arabia. A degree in that school is required for those who would do valiant service for God. Only so can the eyes and ears be trained away from the glare and blare of the crowd. They needed it, we need it, for discipline. He, the matchless Man, for that too, and that He might make it a place of sure victory for us. <u>Earth's Ugliest, Deepest Scar.</u> Jesus is the _only_ One of whom we are told that He was led up to be _tempted_. He was the leader of the race for the regaining of the blurred image, the lost mastery and dominion. He Himself bade us pray not to be so tempted. He out-matched the tempter. Any one of us, alone, is clearly out-matched by that tempter. But we may always rest secure in the victory He achieved that day. Only so are we safe. It is noteworthy that the _place_ of the temptation was chosen by the Spirit, and what place it is He chooses. Mark keenly, the tempter did not choose it. He was obliged to start in there, but he seized the first chance to get away to scenes more congenial to himself. The wilderness is one of the most marked spots on the earth's crust. That remarkable stretch of land going by swift, steep descents almost from Jerusalem's very door down to the Dead Sea. It was once described as "the garden of God," that is, as Eden, for beauty and fertility, like the fertile Egyptian bottoms. For long centuries no ghastlier bit of land can be found, haggard, stripped bare, its strata twisted out of all shape, blistering peeling rocks, scorching furnace-heat reflected from its rocks, swept by hot desert winds, it is the land of death, an awful death; no life save crawling scorpions and vipers, with an occasional hyena and jackal. Here sin had a free line and ran riot. It ran to its logical conclusion, till a surgical operation--a cauterization--was necessary to save the rest. Earth's fairest became earth's ugliest. It is the one spot where sin's free swing seamed its mark deepest in. The story of sin's worst is burned into the crust of the earth with letters over a thousand feet deep. This is sin's scar: earth's hell-scar. There is no talk of the glory of the kingdom here. Yet there had been once. This is the very spot where that proposition on smaller scale was made to a man in a crisis of _his_ life, and where, lured by the attractive outlook, he had chosen selfishly. This is the wilderness, sin's wilderness, whither the Holy Spirit led Jesus for the tempter's assault. No man does great service for God till he gets sin into its proportion in his perspective. Jesus was tempted. Temptation, the suggestion to wrong, must find some point of contact within. Therein consists the temptation to the man. Without doubt there was a response within to the temptations that came to Jesus. Satan always throws his line to catch on a hook inside. The physical sense of hunger responded to the suggestion of getting hold of a loaf. The unfailing breath of Jesus' life was trusting His Father. For the _way_ a thing should be done, as well as for getting the result, He trusted His Father. This trust, underlying and permeating His whole life, furnishes the point of contact for the second temptation. The ruling of a world righteously--not for the glory of reigning, ingrained in _us_, but for the world's good and betterment--was ingrained in Jesus by His birth, and fostered by His study of the Hebrew scriptures, and by the consciousness of His mission. Here is the point of contact with the third temptation. At once it is plain that there is nothing wrong here in the inward response. For instantly it was clear that a response of His _will_ to these outer propositions would not be right, would be wrong, and so these points of contact were instantly held in check by His will. "_Every_ temptation" was brought, we are told: "tempted in _all_ points." This does not mean that every particular temptation came to Jesus, but the heart, the essential, of every temptation. Every temptation that comes to us is along the line of the three that came to Him. By rejecting the _first_ of each line He shut out its successors. By accepting the first of a series of temptations a man opens the way for the next, and so on. Temptations come on a scale descending. There are the first, the initial temptations, and then all that follow in their train. Rejecting the first stops the whole line. Not only that, but stops also the _momentum_, terrific, downward momentum of the whole line. The first temptation is the door through which must pass all other temptations of that sort. If that door be opened these other temptations have a chance. If that door be kept shut, all these others are kept waiting. Temptation is always standing with its pointed toe at the crack of the door, waiting the slightest suggestion of an opening. This first temptation is always the likeliest of its class to get in. It is not always the same, of course. It is subtly chosen to suit the man. Jesus kept these doors rigidly shut, key turned, bolts pushed, bar up, chain hooked. So may we. The tempting is to be done by "the devil." That is his strong point, tempting people. It is one way of recognizing some of his kin. It is a mean, contemptible sort of thing. He had fallen into a hole of his own digging, and would pull in everybody else. He is never constructive in his work, always destructive. Best at tearing down. Never builds up. His allies can often be told by their resemblance to him here. Jesus is to be tempted by this master-tempter. He is going to prove to all his brothers that the tempter has no power without the consent of the tempted. The door into a man has only the one knob. And that's on the inside. <u>Waiting the Father's Word.</u> Quite likely the form of the tempter's words suggests the upper current of Jesus' thought. "If thou be the _Son of God_." Jesus was likely absorbed with His peculiar relation to His Father, with all that that involved. The tempter cunningly seeks to sweep Him off of His feet by working on His mood. It is ever a favorite method with the tempter to _rush_ a man. A flush of feeling, the mood of an intense emotion tipped over the balance with a quick motion of his, has swept many a man off his feet. But Jesus held steady. There was no unholy heat of ambition to disturb the calm working of His mind. Why "if"? Did Satan doubt it? Is he asking proof? He gets it. Jesus did not need to prove His divinity except by continuing to be divine. He proved best that He was Son of God by being true to His Sonship. He naturally acted the part. We prove best that we are right by being right, not by accepting captious, critical propositions. The stars shine. We know they are stars by their shine. Satan would have Jesus use His divinity in an undivine way. He was cunning. But Jesus was keener than the tempter was cunning. "Get a loaf out of this stone. Don't go hungry. Be practical and sensible." The cold cruelty of Satan! He makes no effort to relieve the hunger. The hunger asked for bread and he gave it a stone. That is the best he has. He is a bit short on bread. He would use the physical need to break down the moral purpose. He has ever been doing just that. Sometimes he induces a man to break down his strength in religious activity. And then he takes advantage of his weakened condition. Even religious activity should be refused save at the leading of God's Spirit. It will not do simply to do _good._ The only safe thing is to do _God's will_, to be tied fast to the tether of the Spirit's leading. Jesus _could_ have made a loaf out of the stone. He did that sort of thing afterwards. It was not wrong to do it, since, under other circumstances, He did it. But it is wrong to do anything, even a good thing, at the devil's suggestion. He would shun the counsel of the ungodly. The tempter attacks first the _neediest_ point, the hunger, and in so far the weakest, the likeliest to yield. Yet it was the strongest, too, for Jesus could make bread. The strongest point may become the weakest because of the very temptation the possession of strength gives to use it improperly. Strength used properly remains strength; used improperly it becomes weakness. The strong points always need guarding, that the balance be not tipped over and lost. Strength is never greater than when used rightly; never greater than when refused to the improper use. The essence of sin is in the improper use of a proper thing. The first step toward victory over temptation is to recognize it. Jesus' quick, quiet reply here touches the human heart at once, and touches it at its neediest and most sensitive point, the need of sympathy, of a fellow feeling. He said, "_Man_ shall not live." The tempter said, "God." Jesus promptly said, "Man." He came to be man, the Son of man, and the Brother of man. He took His place as a _man_ that day in the Jordan water. He will not be budged from man's side. He will stay on the man level in full touch with His fellows at every step of the way. He was giving to every man, everywhere in the world, under stress of every temptation; with every rope tugging at its fastenings, and threatening every moment to slip its hold, and the man be lost in the storm, _to every man_ the right, the enormous staying power to say, "_Jesus_--a _man _--such a one as I--was _here_, and as a _man_ resisted--and _won_. He is at my side. I'll lean on Him and _resist_ too,--and _win_ too--in the strength of His winning." Jesus says here, "My life, my food, the supplying of my needs is in the hands of my Father. When _He_ gives the word, I'll do: not before. I'll starve if He wishes it, but I'll not mistrust Him; nor do anything save as He leads and suggests. I'll not act at _your_ suggestion, nor anybody's else but His. Starving doesn't begin to bother me like failing to trust would do. But I haven't the faintest idea of starving with such a Father." "Not by bread alone, but by every word ... of God." Not by a loaf, but by a word. When a man is where God would have him, he can afford to wait patiently till God gives the word. A man is never unsteadier on his feet than when he has gone where he was not led. "_I go at my Father's word." "I wait_ for my Father's word." Jesus' study of the parchment rolls in Nazareth was standing Him in good stead now. Through many a prayerful hour over that Word had come the trained ear, the waiting spirit, the doing of things only at the Father's initiative. He could make bread, but He wouldn't, unless the Father gave the word. It was not simply that He would _not_ act at the tempter's suggestion, but He would not act at all except at the Father's word. And to this Jesus remained true, whether the request for evidence came from the tempter direct, or from sneering Pharisee at the temple's cleansing, or from unbelieving brothers. Life comes not through what a man can make, but through the Father's controlling presence: not through our effort, but through the Father's power transmitted through the pipe line of our ready obedience. "Just to let thy Father do As He will. Just to know that He is true, And be still. Just to follow hour by hour As He leadeth. Just to draw the moment's power As it needeth. Just to trust Him. This is all. Then the day will surely be Peaceful, whatsoe'er befall, Bright and blesséd, calm and free."[8] Jesus held every activity, every power subject to the Father's bidding. Not only obedient, but nothing else. Waiting the Father's send-off at every turn: this is the message from Jesus that first tug, and first victory. Jesus had held true in the realm of the body, in His relationship to Himself. <u>Love Never Tests.</u> Satan shifts the scene. These wilderness surroundings grate on his nerves. The setting of this place, once first class, is now rather worn. He's famous at that. It's a favorite device of His; quick scene-shifting. A man wins a victory over temptation, but a quick change of surroundings finds him unprepared if he isn't ever alert for it, and down he goes before the new, unexpected rush, before he can get his wind. The tempter is not a fool, as regards man. That is, as a rule he is not. In the light of all facts obtainable about his career, that word _might_ be thought of. Yet no man of us may apply the word to him. Not one of us is a match for him. We're not in the same class. In his keen subtlety and cunning he can outmatch the keenest of us; outwit and befool without doing any extra thinking. I am not using the word _wisdom_ of him. We are safe only in the wisdom of our big Brother who drew his fangs in the wilderness that day. He chooses shrewdly the spot for each following temptation. He's a master stage manager. He always works for an _atmosphere_ that will help his purpose. He took Jesus up to one of the wings of the temple in the holy city. The holy city, and especially its temple, would awaken holiest emotions. Here it was that Jesus, as a boy, years before, had probably first caught fire. It is likely that He never forgot that first visit. Here everything spoke to Him of His Father. The tempter is skilfully following the leading of Jesus' reply. Jesus had given a religious answer. So He is given a religious atmosphere, and taken to a religious place. He would trust the Father implicitly. Here is an opportunity to let men see that beautiful spirit of trust. Here is a chance for a master-stroke. A single simple act will preach to the crowds. "You'll come down in the midst of an open-mouthed, admiring crowd." The devil loves the spectacular, the theatrical. He is always working for striking, stagy effects. How many a man has yielded to the _religious_ temptation! He is taken up in the air, and seems to float among ethereal clouds. It is better for us to live in the strength of Somebody else's victory, and keep good hard earth close to the soles of our feet, or we may come into contact with it suddenly with feet and head changing places. The devil "taketh" Jesus. How could he? He could do it only by Jesus' consent. Jesus yields to his taking. He has a strong purpose in it. He was going for the sake of His brothers. The tempter cannot take anybody anywhere except with his full consent. He tries to, and often befools men into thinking he can. It's a lie. He cannot. Every man is an absolute sovereign in his will, both as regards God and Satan. God will not do anything with us without our ready consent. And be it keenly remembered that the tempter _cannot_. Here Jesus gave consent for His brothers' sake. The tempter acts his part like an old hand. The proper thing here is some scripture, repeated earnestly in unctuous tones. Was it from this tempter that all of us religious folks and everybody else have gotten into the _inveterate_ habit of quoting verse and sentence entirely out of connection? Any devil's lie can be proven from the Scriptures on that plan. If it was he who set the pace, certainly it has been followed at a lively rate. It was a cunning quotation, cunningly edited. The angels _are_ ministering spirits. On their hands they do bear us up. It is all true, blessedly true. But it is only true for the man who is living in the first verse of that ninety-first psalm, "in the secret place of the most High." The tempter threads his way with cautious skill among those unpleasant allusions to the serpent, and the dragon, and getting them under our feet, and then twisting and trampling with our hard heels. He knew his ground well, and avoids such rough, rude sort of talk. It was a cunning temptation, cunningly staged and worded and backed. He was doing his best. One wonders if he really thought _Jesus_ could be tripped up that way. So many others have been, and are, even after Jesus has shown us the way. A dust cloth would help some of us--for our Bibles--and a little more exercise at the knee-joint, and a bit of the hard common sense God has given every one of us. Did Jesus' wondrous, quiet calm nettle the tempter? Was He ever keener and quieter? He would step from the substantial boat-deck to the yielding water, He would cut Himself off from His Nazareth livelihood and step out without any resources, He would calmly walk into Jerusalem when there was a price upon His head, for so He was led by that Spirit to whose sovereignty He had committed Himself. But He would do nothing at the suggestion of this tempter. Jesus never used His power to show He had it, but to help somebody. He could not. It is against the nature of power to attempt to prove that you have it by using it. Power is never concerned about itself, but wrapped up in practical service. There were no theatricals about Jesus. He was too intensely concerned about the needs of men. There are none in God-touched men. Elisha did not smite the waters to prove that Elijah's power rested upon him, but _to get back across the Jordan_ to where his work was needing him and waiting his touch. Jesus would wear Himself out bodily in ministering to men's needs, but He wouldn't turn a hair nor budge a step to show that He could. This is the touch-stone by which to know all Jesus-men. He rebukes this quotation by a quotation that breathes the whole spirit of the passage where it is found. Thou shalt not _test_ God to see if He will do as He promises. These Israelites had been testing, criticizing, questioning, doubting God. That's the setting of His quotation. Jesus says that love never tests. It trusts. Love does not doubt, for it _knows_. It needs no test. It could trust no more fully after a test, for it trusts fully now. Aye, it trusts more fully now, for it is trusting _God_, not a _test_. Every test of God starts with a question, a doubt, a misgiving of God. Jesus' answer to the second temptation is: love never tests. It trusts. Jesus keeps true in His relation to His Father. <u>The Devil Acknowledges the King.</u> Another swift shift of the scene. Swiftness is a feature now. In a moment of time, all the kingdoms, and all the glory of all the earth. Rapid work! This is an appeal to the eye. First the palate, then the emotions, now the eye. First the appetites, then the religious sense, now the ambition. The tempter comes now to the real thing he is after. He would be a god. It is well to sift his proposition pretty keenly, on general principles. His reputation for truthfulness is not very good, which means that it is very bad. Who wants to try a suspicious egg? He could have quite a number of capitals after his name on the score of mixing lies and the truth. He has a distinct preference for the flavor of _mixed_ lies. Here are the three statements in his proposal. All these things have been delivered unto me. I may give them to whom I will. I will give them to you. The first of these is true. He is "the prince of this world." The second is not true, because through breach of trust he has forfeited his rule, though still holding to it against the Sovereign's wish. The third is not true. Clearly he hadn't any idea of relinquishing his hold, but only of swamping Jesus. Two parts lie: one part truth--a favorite formula of his. The lie gets the vote. A bit of truth sandwiched in between two lies. He asks for worship. Did he really think that possibly Jesus would actually worship him? The first flush answer is, surely not. Yet he is putting the thing in a way that has secured actual worship from many a'one who would be horrified at such a blunt putting of his conduct. We must shake off the caricature of a devil with pointed horns, and split hoof, and forked tail, and see the real, to understand better. From all accounts he must be a being of splendor and beauty, of majestic bearing, and dignity. His appeal in effect is this:--These things are all mine. You have in you the ingrained idea of a world-wide dominion over nature, and of ruling all men as God's King. Now, can't we fix this thing up between us? Let's be friendly. Don't let's quarrel over this matter of world dominion. You acknowledge me as your sovereign. You rule over all this under me. I'll stand next to God, and you stand next to me. It's a mere technical distinction, after all. It'll make no real change in your being a world-wide ruler, and it will make none with me either. Each will have a fair share and place. Let's pull together.--The thing sounds a bit familiar. It seems to me I have heard it since somewhere, if I can jog up my memory. It has raised a cloud of dust in many a man's road, and blurred the clear outlines of the true plan--_has_ raised?--_is_ raising. Jesus' answer is imperative. It is the word of an imperative. He is the King already in His Father's plan. He replies with the sharp, imperial brevity of an emperor, a king of kings, "Get thee hence!" Begone! The tempter obeys. He knows his master. He goes. Biting his teeth upon his hot spittle, utterly cowed, he slinks away. Only one Sovereign, Jesus says. All dominion held properly only by direct dependence upon Him, direct touch with Him, full obedience to Him. No compromise here. No mixing of issues. Simple, direct relation to God, and every other relation _through_ that. No short cuts for Jesus. They do but cut with deep gashes the man who cuts. The "short" describes the term of his power, a short shrift. When the devil has used up all his ammunition--. That's a comfort. There is an end to the devil if we will but quietly hold on. Every arrow shot. Not a cartridge left. Yet he is not entirely through with Jesus. He has retired to reform the broken lines. He'll melt up the old bullets into different shape. They have been badly battered out of all shape by striking on this hard rock. He's a bit shaken himself. This Jesus is something new. When he can get his wind he will come back. He came back many times. Once through ignorant Peter with the loaf temptation in new shape, once through His mother's loving fears with the emotional temptation, and through the earnest, hungry Greeks, and the bread-full thousands with the kingdom temptation. Yet the edge of His sword is badly nicked, and never regains its old edge. But now he goes. He obeys Jesus. The tempter resisted goes, weakened. He is a coward now. He fights only with those weaker than himself. He doesn't take a man of his own size. Temptation resisted strengthens the man. There is a new resisting power. There is the fine fettle that victory gives. Jesus is Victor. The Jordan experience has left its impress. Every act of obedience is to the tempter's disadvantage. In Jesus we are victors, too. But only in Him. Through Jesus we meet a fangless serpent. The old glare is in the eye, the rattles are noisy, but the sting's out. He is still there. He still can scare; but can do not even that to the man arm-in-arm with Jesus. Jesus keeps true the relationship to all men and to nature by keeping true the relationship to His Father. Our Father, lead us not into temptation as Jesus was led. We're no match for the tempter. Help us to keep arm-in-arm with Jesus, and live ever in the power of His victory. The Transfiguration: An Emergency Measure <u>God in Sore Straits.</u> The darkest hour save only one has now come in Jesus' life. And that one which was actually darkest, in every way, from every view-point darkest, had in it some gleams of light that are not here. Jesus is now a fugitive from the province of Judea. The death plot has been settled upon. There's a ban in Jerusalem on His followers. Already one man has been cut off from synagogue privileges, and become a religious and social outcast. The southerners are pushing the fight against Jesus up into Galilee. Four distinct times that significant danger word "withdrew" has been used in describing Jesus' departure from where the Judean leaders had come. First from Judea to Galilee, then from Galilee to distant foreign points He had gone, for a time, till the air would cool a bit. The bold return to Jerusalem at the fall Feast of Tabernacles had been attended, first by an official attempt to arrest, and then by a passionate attempt to stone Jesus to death. And now the Galilean followers begin to question, and to leave. His enemies' northern campaign, together with His own plain teaching, has affected the Galilean crowds. They come in as great numbers as ever to hear and to be healed. But many that had allied themselves as Jesus' followers decide that He is not the leader they want. He is quite too unpractical. The kingdom that the Galileans are eager for, that the Roman yoke may be shaken off, seems very unlikely to come under such a leader. Many desert Him. Jesus felt the situation keenly. The kingdom plan in Jerusalem had failed. And now the winning of individuals as a step in another plan is slipping its hold. These people are glad of bread and the easing of bodily distress, but the tests of discipleship they pull away from. He turns to the little band of His own choosing, with a question that reveals the keen disappointment of His heart. There's a tender yearning in that question, "Will ye also go away?" And Peter's instant, loyal answer does not blind His keen eyes to the extremity. With sad voice He says, "One of you, my own chosen friends, one of you is a--devil." Things are in bad shape, and getting worse. It was a time of dire extremity. God was in sore straits. The kingdom plan was clearly gone for the present. The rub was to save enough out of the wreckage to get a sure starting-point for the new plan, through which, by and by, the other original plan would work out. There can be no stronger evidence of God's need of men than this transfiguration scene. Just because He had made man a sovereign in his will, God must work out all of His plans _through_ that sovereign will. He would not lower one whit His ambition for a man free in his own will. He Himself would do nothing to mar the divine image in man. For man's sake, and _through_ man's will--that is ever God's law of dealing. <u>Fire and Anvil for Leaders.</u> The great need just now was not simply for men who would be loving and loyal, but men who would be _leaders_. It has ever been the sorest need. Men are not so scarce, true-hearted men, willing to endure sacrifice, but _leaders_ have always been few, and are. Nothing seems to be less understood than leadership; and nothing so quickly recognized when the real thing appears. Peter _was_ a leader among these men. He had dash and push. He was full of impulse. He was always proposing something. He acted as spokesman. He blurted out whatever came. The others followed his lead. There were the crude elements of leadership here. But not true leadership of the finer, higher kind. The whole purpose of the transfiguration was to get and tie up leaders. It was an emergency measure, out of the regular run of things. Goodness makes character. It takes goodness plus ability to make true leadership. The heart can make a loving follower. It takes a heart, warm and true, plus _brains_ to make a leader. Character is the essential for life. For true leadership, there needs to be character plus ability: the ability to keep the broad sweep of things, and not be lost in details, nor yet to lose sight of details; to discern motive and drifts; to sift through the incidentals which may be spectacular and get to the essential which may be in Quaker garb. There are two sorts of leadership, of action, and of thought. By comparison with the other, leaders of action are many, leaders of thought few. Peter was the leader in action of the disciples, and in the earlier church days. John became the leader in thought of the later years of the early church. Paul was both, a very unusual combination. Leaders are born, it is true. But the finest and truest and highest leaders must be both born leaders, and then born again as leaders. There needs to be the original stuff, and then that stuff hammered into shape under hard blows on the anvil of experience. The fire must burn out the clay and dirt, and then the hammer shape up the metal. Leaders must have convictions driven in clear through the flesh and bone, and riveted on the other side. _Simon_ loved Jesus, but there needed to be more before _Peter_ would arrive. It took the transfiguration to put into the impulsive, unsteady, wobbling Simon the metal that would later become steel in Peter. Yet it took much more, and finally the fire of Pentecost, to get the needed temper into the steel. These same lips could give that splendid statement that has become the church's foundation; and, a bit later, utter boldly foolish, improper words to Jesus; and, later yet, utter vulgar profanity, and words far worse, aye, the worst that could be said about a _friend_, and in that friend's _need_, too. This was a fair sample of the clay and iron, the Simon and the Peter in this man. Yet it was with painful slowness that he had been brought up to where he is now. Two years of daily contact with Jesus. Slow work! No, rapid work. Nobody but Jesus could have done it in such a short time. Nobody but Jesus could have done it at all. And, mark you keenly, this man is the _leader_ of the band of men that stand closest to Jesus. This is the setting of the great transfiguration scene. <u>An Irresistible Plan.</u> Jesus goes off, away from the crowds, to have a bit of quiet time with this inner band of His. Here is the strategic point, now. The key to the future plan is in this small group. If that key can be filed into shape, cleaned of rust, and gotten to fit and turn in the lock, all may yet be well. The nub of all future growth is here. With simple, keen tact He begins His questionings, leading on, until Peter responds with his splendid declaration for which the church has ever been grateful to him. "Thou art the Christ, the Son of the living God." It comes to Jesus' ears as a grateful drink of cold water to a thirsty man on a hot day in a dusty road. Then to this leader and to the inner circle, He reveals the changed plan. For the first time the word church is used, that peculiar word which later becomes the name of the new organization, "a company of persons called out." He is going to build up a church upon this statement of faith from Peter's lips, and this church will hold the relation to the kingdom of key-holder, administrator. The church is to be a part of the administration of the coming kingdom. And so Jesus begins His difficult, sad task of preparing this band for the event six months off in Jerusalem. There is to be a tragedy before the building of the church which will hold the kingdom keys. So thoroughly does Peter fail to understand Jesus, that with stupid boldness he attempts to "rebuke" Him. Peter "took" Jesus. A great sight surely! He slips his hand in Jesus' arm and takes Him off to one side to--straighten--Him--out. This Jesus is being swept off His feet by undue emotional enthusiasm. Peter would fix it up and save the day. It would take Peter to do that. And this is a sample of the best leadership in this inner group. Things were in bad shape. All the machinery hung upon a little pin holding two parts together. That pin threatens to bend and break for lack of temper. The Son of God leaves all else and turns aside to attend to a pin. The future of the kingdom hung upon three undisciplined country fishermen. The transfiguration spells out God's dire extremity in getting a footing in human hearts _and brains_ for His plans. Something must be done. Mark what that something was to be: so simple in itself, so tremendous in its results. They were to be allowed to _see Jesus_. That would be enough. The Jesus within would look out through the body He was using. The real Jesus within looked out through the Jesus they knew. He let these men see Himself a few moments; simply that. All of that, yet simply that. They were His lovers. They were to be sorely tried by coming events. They were to be the leaders. To _love_, for a time of _sore need_, for _service's_ sake, for the sake of the _multitudes_ whose _leaders_ they were to be, for the saving of the _church_ plan, and beyond of the _kingdom_ plan, the Jesus within looked out for a few moments into their faces. It was the same plan used later in getting another leader. Jesus had to go outside these men for a man with qualifications needed by the situation that these men did not have. The human element again in evidence. Paul says, "When I could not see for the glory of that light." That light bothered his eyes. The old ambitions were blurred. He couldn't see them. The outlines dimmed, the old pedigree and plans faded out. They could no longer be seen for the glory of that light. It is the plan the Master has ever used, and still does. It is irresistible. <u>"The Glory of that Light."</u> It was six days, or eight counting both ends, after the first telling of the coming tragedy that shook them so. Here is a bit of practical psychology. Jesus lets the brain impression made by that strange announcement _deepen_ before making the next impression. Jesus went up into the mountain "to pray." Prayer never failed Him. It was equal to every need with Jesus. It was while praying that the wondrous change came. Changed while praying. When Moses came down from that long time alone with God, his face was full of the glory reflected from God's presence. Stephen's face caught the light of another Face into which he was intently looking. Jesus was changed _from within_. It was His own glory that these men saw. He had wrapped Himself up in a bit of human tapestry so He could move among men without blinding their eyes. Now He looks out through the strands. They are astonished and awed to find that face they know so well now shining as the sun, and the garments made transparent as light, glistening like snow, by reason of the great brilliance of the light within. Yet Jesus let out only a part of the glory. When Paul saw, on the Damascus road, the light was _above_ the shining of the sun. When their eyes get over the first daze, the disciples come to see that besides Jesus there are two others, two of the old Hebrew leaders. There is Moses, the great maker of the nation, the greatest leader of all. And rugged Elijah, who had boldly stood in the breach and saved the day when the nation's king was proposing to replace the worship of Jehovah with demon-worship. They are talking earnestly together, these three, about--what? The great sacrifices Jesus had been enduring? The disappointment in the kingdom plan? The suffering and shame to be endured? The bitter obstinacy of the opposition? The chief priests' plotting? Listen! They are talking about the departure, the exodus, the going out and up, Jesus is about to _accomplish_. They are absorbed in Jesus. He was about to execute a master-stroke. He is going to accomplish a great move. They are wholly absorbed in Him, this Moses, and Elijah, and in this great move of His for men. Meanwhile these men lying on the ground are waking up and rubbing their eyes. The only jarring note is a human note. John and James look with awe, reverent awe. It is an insight into their character that nothing is said about them. Their sense of reverence and power of control are to the front. It is dear, impulsive old Peter who can't keep still, even amid such a scene. His impulsive heart is just back of his lips, with no check-valves between. He must offer a few remarks. This great vision must be duly recognized. What a sensation it would make in Jerusalem to get these two men to stay and come down and address a meeting! That would turn the tide surely. Luke graciously explains that he did not know what he was saying. No, probably not. The tongue seemed to be going mechanically, rather than by the controlling touch of the will. Peter seems to have a large posterity, some of whom abide with us to this day. Then the vision is shut out by the intervening cloud. This human interference disturbs the atmosphere. For Peter's sake, the glory is hidden that the impression of it may not be rubbed out even slightly by his own speech. We blur and lose the impression God would make upon us, by our speech, sometimes. A bit of _divine_ practical psychology, this movement of the cloud. Then the quiet voice that thrilled them with the message of the Jordan, "This is My Son; My Chosen One: hear ye Him." Then it is all over. It is most striking that this wondrous vision of glory is for these three obscure, untutored men, of lowly station. Not for the nation's leaders. Yet the reason is plain. They had gladly accepted what light had come. To them came more. Their door was open. It is these men who had obeyed light that now received more. To him that hath received what light has come shall be given more. From him that hath no light, because he won't let it in, shall be taken away even what light he has. Shut fists will stifle what is already held, and the life of it oozes out between the fingers. In each of the three Gospels recording this scene it is introduced by the same quotation from Jesus' lips. There were some persons in His presence who would not die until they had seen the kingdom of God. The writers' reference is clearly to the vision that follows. It is said to be a vision of the coming kingdom. Jesus, with the divine glory within, no longer concealed, but shining out with an indescribable splendor, up above the earth, with two godly men, one of whom had died, and the other had been caught up from the earth without death, talking earnestly about men and affairs on the earth, and in direct communication with the Father--that is the vision here of the kingdom. <u>A Vision of Jesus.</u> And so the darkest hour save only one was filled with the brightest light. The after, darker hour of Calvary had gleams of light from this transfiguration scene. There was faithful John's sympathetic presence all through the trial. John never flinched. And Peter had tears that caught the light from Jesus' eyes, and reflected their glistening rays within. Those tears of Peter's were a great comfort to Jesus that night and the next day. The two greatest leaders were sure. The transfiguration served its purpose fully. The memory of it saved Peter out of the wreckage of Simon, else Judas' hemp might have had double use that night. Under the leadership of these men, the little band hold together during that day, so awful to them in the killing of their leader and the dashing of all their fondest hopes on which they had staked everything. Two nights later finds them gathered in a room. Could it have been the same upper room where they had eaten _with Him_ that never-to-be-forgotten night, and listened to His comforting words? Only Thomas does not come. Everybody swings in but one. That shows good work by these leaders. But another week's work brings him, too, into the meeting and into the light. These three men never forgot the sight of that night. John writes his Gospel under the spell of the transfiguration. "We beheld _His glory"_ he says at the start, and understands Isaiah's wondrous writings, because he, too, "_saw His glory."_ The impression made upon Peter deepened steadily with the years. The first impression of garments glistening beyond any fuller's skill has grown into an abiding sense of the "_majesty" _ of Jesus and "_the majestic glory_." I think it wholly likely, too, that this vision of glory was in James' face, and steadied his steps, as so early in the history he met Herod's swordsman. It was _a vision of Jesus_ that turned the tide. There's nothing to be compared with that. A man's life and service depend wholly on the vision of Jesus that has come, that is coming. When that comes, instinctively he finds himself ever after saying, without planning to, "Since mine eyes were fixed on Jesus, I've lost sight of all beside. So enchained my spirit's vision, Looking at the Crucified." With the Damascus traveller he will be saying, "When I could not see for the glory of that light." May we each with face open, uncovered, all prejudice and self-seeking torn away, behold the glory of Jesus, even though for the sake of our eyes it come as a reflected glory. Then we shall become, as were Moses and Stephen, unconscious reflectors of that glory. And the crowd on the road shall find Jesus in us and want Him. Then, too, we ourselves shall be changing from glory to glory, by the inner touch of Jesus' Spirit, as we continue gazing. Gethsemane: The Strange, Lone Struggle <u>The Pathway In.</u> Great events always send messengers ahead. There is a movement in the spirit currents. A sort of tremor of expectancy affects the finer currents of air. The more sensitively organized one is, that is to say, the more the spirit part of a man dominates body and mind, the more conscious will he be of the something coming. Jesus was keenly conscious ahead of the coming of Calvary. Apart from the actual knowledge, there was a painful thrill of expectancy, intensifying as the event came nearer. The cross cast long, dark shadows ahead. The darkest is Gethsemane. It would be, for it was nearest. But there were other shadows before that of the olive grove. Jesus plainly reveals in His behavior, in His appearance, that He felt keenly, into the very fibre, so sensitively woven, of His being, that the experience of the cross would be a terrific one for Him. It was deliberately chosen by Him, and the time of its coming chosen in the full knowledge that it would be an awful ordeal. It would establish the earth's record for suffering, never approached before or since. As He turns His face for the last time away from Galilee, and to Judea, it is with the calmness of strong deliberation. Yet the intenseness of the inner spirit, in its look ahead, is shown in His face, His demeanor. As He comes to a certain Samaritan village on the road south, the usual invitation to stop for rest and a bit of refreshment is withheld out of respect to His evident purpose. It is clear to these villagers that His face is set to go to Jerusalem. In Luke's striking language, "_His face was going to Jerusalem._" What going to Jerusalem meant to Him had no meaning to them. They saw only that face, and were so caught by the strong, stern determination plainly written there that they felt impelled not to offer the usual hospitality. They were Samaritans, it is true, a half-breed race, hated by Jews, and hating them, but invariably they had been friendly to Jesus. That must have been a marked face that held back these homely country people from pressing their small attentions upon Jesus. They are keener to read the meaning of that face than are these disciples who are more familiar with the sight of it. The impress already made upon the inner spirit by the great event toward which Jesus had determinedly set Himself was even thus early marked in His face. Later, on that journey south, as the time and place are nearing, He strides along the road, with such a look in His face as makes these men, who had lived in closest touch, "amazed," that is, awed and frightened. And as they followed behind, they were "afraid." It is the only time it is said that the sight of His face made them _afraid_. Then He explains to them what is in His thoughts, with full details of the indignities to be heaped upon His person. The sternness of His purpose, perhaps not only the terrible experience of knowing sin at such close range, but, not unlikely, an anger, a hot indignation against sin and its ravages, which He was going to stab to death, flashed blinding lightning out of those eyes. It was, not unlikely, something of the same feeling as made Him shake with indignation as He realized His dear friend Lazarus in the cold, clinging embrace of death, sin's climax. The determination to conquer sin, give it a death thrust, mingled with His acute consciousness of that through which He must go in the doing of it, wrote deep marks on His face. It is the beginning already of Gethsemane, as that, in turn, is of Calvary. Earlier in the last week occurs the incident which agitates Jesus so, of the Greeks' request for an interview. These earnest seekers for truth, from outside the Jewish nation, seem to bring up to His mind the great outside world, so hungry for Him, and for which He was so hungry. But, quick as a flash, there falls over that the inky black shadow of a cross in His path, and the instant realization that only _through it_ could He get out to these great outside crowds. As though unaware of the presence of the crowds, He begins talking with Himself, out of His heart, saying words which none understand. "Now is my innermost being agitated, all shaken up; and what decisive word shall I speak? Shall I say, 'Father, save me from this experience'? He can. No, I cannot say that, for for this purpose I have deliberately come to it. This is what I will say--and the agitation within His spirit issues in the victorious tightening of every rivet in His purpose--'Father, glorify Thy name.'" This is Gethsemane already, both in the struggle and in the victory through loyalty to the Father's will. <u>The Climax of Jesus' Suffering.</u> And now comes Gethsemane. Both hat and shoes quickly go off here, for this is holiest ground. One looks with head bowed and breath held in, and reverential awe ever deepening. The shadow of the cross so long darkening His path is now closing in and enveloping Jesus. The big trees cast black shadows against the brilliance of the full moon. Yet they are as bright lights beside this other shadow, this inky shadow cast by the tree up yonder, just outside the Jerusalem wall, with the huge limb sitting sharply astride the trunk. The scene under these trees has been spoken of by almost all, if not by all, as a strange struggle. With a great variety of explanations men have wondered why He agonized so. It _was_ a strange struggle, and ever will be, not understood, strange to angels and to men and to demons. It is strange to angels of the upper world, for they do not know, and cannot, the terrific meaning of sin as did Jesus. It is strange to all other men except Jesus, for we do not know the meaning of purity as Jesus did. And it was strange to demons, for in the event of the morrow sin was working out a new degree of itself, a new superlative, in its final attack on Jesus. Sin was trying to strangle God. Even demons stared. Purity refined beyond what angels knew, and sin coarsened beyond what demons knew were coming together. Purity's finest and sin's coarsest were coming together in the closest touch thus far, in this Man under those old brown-barked gray-leaved, gnarly trees. The shock of such extremes meeting would be terrific. It _was_ terrific here under the trees. It was yet more so on the morrow. Here was the cross in anticipation. Calvary was in Gethsemane. Man never will understand the depth of Gethsemane. We are incapable of sympathizing with Jesus here. Yet it is true that as the Holy Spirit within a man increases the purity, and the horror of sin, there comes an increasing sense of sympathy with Him, and an increasing appreciation that we cannot go into the depths of what He knew here. In the best of us sin is ingrained. Jesus was wholly free from taint or twist of sin. He knew it only in others. Now He, the pure One, purity personified, was coming into _closest_ contact with sin, and sin at its worst. He had been in contact with sin in _others_. He had seen its cruel ravages and been indignant against it. Now, on the morrow, He is to know sin by a horrid intimacy of contact, and sin at a new worst. He was yielding to its tightest hold. Sin at its ugliest would stretch out its long, bony arms and gaunt hands, and fold Him to itself in closest embrace and hold Him there. And He was allowing this, that so when sin's worst was done, He might seize it by the throat and strangle it. He would put death to death. Yet so terrific is the struggle that He must accept in Himself that which He thereby destroys. This is the agony of Gethsemane. It may be told, but not understood. Only one as pure as He could understand, and then only under circumstances that never will come again. The horror of this contact with sin is intensified clear out of our reach by this: it meant _separation from His Father_. The Father was the life of Jesus. The Father's presence and approving smile were His sunshine. From the earliest consciousness revealed to us was that consciousness of His _Father_. Only let that smile be seen, that voice heard, that presence felt by this One so sensitive to it, and all was well. No suffering counted. The Father's presence tipped the scales clear down against every hurting thing. _But_--now on the morrow that would be changed. The Father's face be--hidden--His presence _not_ felt. That was the climax of all to Jesus. Do you say it was for a short time only? In minutes y-e-s. As though experiences were ever told by the clock! What bulky measurements of time we have! Will we never get away from the clocks in telling time? No clock ever can tick out the length to Jesus of that time the Father's face was hidden. This hiding of the Father's face was the climax of suffering to Jesus. <u>Alone.</u> It was a very full evening for Jesus. In the upper room of a friend's house they meet for the eating of the Passover meal. There is the great act of washing His disciples' feet, the eating of the old Hebrew prophetic meal, the going out of Judas into the night of his dark purpose, the new simple memorial meal. Then come those long quiet talks, in which Jesus speaks out the very heart of His heart, and that marvellous prayer so simple and so bottomless. Very likely He is talking, as they move quietly along the Jerusalem streets, out of the gate leading toward the Kedron brook, and then over the brook toward the enclosed spot, full of the great old olive trees. The moon is at the full. This is one of His favorite praying places. He is going off for a bit of prayer. _So_ He approaches this great crisis. There is a friendly word spoken to these men that they be keenly alert, and _pray_, lest they yield to temptation. It is significant, this word about temptation. Then into the woods He goes, the disciples being left among the trees, while He goes in farther with the inner three, then farther yet, quite alone. Intense longing for fellowship mingles with intense longing to be alone. He would have a warm hand-touch, yet they cannot help Him here, and may do something to jar. Now He is on His knees, now prone, full length, on His face. The agony is upon Him. Snatches of His prayer are caught by the wondering three ere sleep dulls their senses. "My Father--if it be possible--_let--this--cup--pass_--from--me--Yet--_Thy--will_--be done." The words used to tell of His mental distress are so intense that the translators are puzzled to find English words strong enough to put in their place. A frenzy of fright, a nightmare horror, a gripping chill seizes Him with a terrible clutch. It is as though some foul, poisonous gas is filling the air and filling His nostrils and steadily choking His gasping breath. The dust of death is getting into His throat. The strain of spirit is so great that the life tether almost slips its hold. And angels come, with awe stricken faces, to minister. Even after that, some of the life, that on the morrow is to be freely spilled out, now reddens the ground. The earth is beginning to feel the fertilizing that by and by is to bring it a new life. By and by the mood quiets, the calm returns and deepens. The changed prayer reveals the victory: "My Father, if this cup _can_not pass away except I drink it--if only through this experience can Thy great love-plan for the race be worked out--Thy--will"--slowly, distinctly, with the throbbing of His heart and the iron of His will in them, come the words--"Thy--will--be--done." In between times He returns to the drowsy disciples with the earnest advice again about being awake, and alert, and praying because of temptation near by. And gentle reproach mingles in the special word spoken to Peter. "Simon, are you sleeping? Could you not be watching with me _one hour_?" Yes, this was Simon now, the old Simon. Jesus' new Peter was again slipping from view. Then the great love of His heart excuses their conduct. What masterly control in the midst of unutterable agitation! Back again for a last bit of prayer, and then He turns His face with a great calm breathing all through those deep lines of suffering, and with steady step turns toward the cross. Calvary: Victory <u>Yielding to Arrest.</u> It is probably close to midnight when Jesus steps out from among the trees to meet the crowds headed by the traitor. He knew they were coming, and quietly goes to meet them. There is a great rabble that the chief priests had drummed up, a city rabble with Roman soldiers, some of the chief priests' circle, and in the lead of all, Judas. Judas keeps up the pretense of friendship, and, advancing ahead of his crowd, greets Jesus with the usual kiss. Jesus dispels the deception at once with His question of reproach, "Betrayest thou with a _kiss_?" Damnable enough to betray, but to use love's token in hate's work made it so much worse. Then He yields to Judas' lips. It was the beginning of the indignities He was to suffer that night. Jesus quietly adds, "Friend, do what you have planned. Let there be no more shamming." But Judas' work is done. The silver secured under his belt is earned. He drops back into the crowd. Jesus steps out into the clear moonlight, and faces the crowd pressing eagerly up. His is the one masterly, majestic presence. Quietly He asks, "Whom are you hunting for?" Back comes the reply, "Jesus of Nazareth." Jesus at once replies, "I am He." Again, that strange power of Jesus' presence is felt, but now more marked than ever before. The crowd falls backward and down to the ground. Soldiers, priests, crowds, Judas lying prone before Jesus! Again the question and the answer, and then the word spoken on behalf of His followers. This manifestation of power is _for others_ this time. Recovering themselves, the crowds press forward. The bewildered Peter makes an awkward stroke with a sword he had secured and cuts off the right ear of a man in the front of the crowd. Jesus gently stops the movement with a word. The Father would even then send twelve legions of angels if He were but to give the word. But He was not giving words of that sort, but doing what the Father wished. With a word of apology for His impetuous follower, the man's ear is restored with a touch. Surely _he_ never forgot Jesus. The leaders, now satisfied that Jesus will not use His power on His own behalf, seize Him and begin to bind His hands. As He yields to their touch, Jesus, looking into the faces of the Jewish leaders, said, "You hunt me and treat me as though I were a common robber. I have never tried to get away from you. But now for a while things are in your control, the control of the powers of night." Meanwhile the disciples forsook Him and fled, except two, John and Peter. Peter followed at what he thought a safe distance. John kept along with the crowd, and went in "_with Jesus_." Mark tells about the attempted arrest of a young man who seemed friendly to Jesus, but in the struggle he escaped, leaving his garments behind. And so they make their way, a torch-light procession through the darkness of the night, back across the brook, up the steep slope to the city gate, and through the narrow streets to the palace of the high priest. <u>The Real Jewish Ruler.</u> Here Jesus is expected. Late as it is He is at once brought before Annas. Annas was an old man who had been high priest himself once, years before, and who had afterwards absolutely controlled that office through the successive terms of his sons and now of his son-in-law. He was the real leader of the inner clique that held the national reins in a clutching grip. Caiaphas was the nominal high priest. The old man Annas was the real leader. He controlled the inner finances and the temple revenues. To him first Jesus is taken. He begins a quizzical, critical examination of Jesus about disciples and teaching. Possibly he is trying to overawe this young Galilean. Jesus calmly answers. "I have taught openly, never secretly; everybody knows what my teaching has been. Why ask Me? These people all around have heard all my teaching." He was ever in the open, in sharp contrast with these present proceedings. One of the underlings of the high priest--struck--Jesus--in the face, saying, "Answerest thou the high priest so?" Jesus quietly replies, "If I have spoken something wrong tell me what it is, but if not, why do you strike Me?" Annas ignores the gross insult by one of his own men, and, probably with an exultant sneer that the disturber of the temple revenues is in his power at last, gives order that Jesus be bound and taken to his chief underling, Caiaphas. This is the first phase of the condemnation determined upon beforehand, and the real settling of the _Jewish_ disposition of Jesus. Still the forms had to be gone through. So Jesus is sent with the decision of Annas in the thongs on His hands to Caiaphas, high priest that year by the grace of the old intriguer Annas, and by Roman appointment. The thing must be done up in proper shape. These folks are great sticklers for proper forms. Probably it is across a courtyard they go to another part of the same pile of buildings or palace. Caiaphas, too, is ready, unusual though the hour is. With him are several members of the senate, the official body in control of affairs. The plans have been carefully worked out. This night work will get things in shape before the dreaded crowds of the morrow can be aroused. Now begins the examination here. These plotters have been so absorbed in getting Jesus actually into their power that they seem to have over-looked the details of making out a strong case against Him. They really didn't need a case to secure their end, yet they seem to want to keep up the forms, probably not because of any remnants of supposed conscience left unseared, but to swing the bothersome, fanatical crowds that must always be reckoned with. Now they deliberately try to find men who will lie about Jesus' words, and swear to it. They find some willing enough--money would fix that--but not bright enough to make their stories hang together. At last some one brings up a remark made three years before by Jesus about destroying the temple and rebuilding it in three days. It is hard to see how they might expect to make anything out of that, for in the remark, as they understood it, He had proposed to undertake the rebuilding of the famous structure if they should destroy it. And then they can't even agree here. Clearly they're hard pushed. Something must be done. Precious time is slipping away. The thing must be in shape by dawn if they are to get it through before the crowds get hold of it. All this time Jesus stands in silence, doubtless with those eyes of His turned now upon Caiaphas, now on the others. His presence disturbed them in more ways than one. That great calm, pure face must have been an irritant to their jaded consciences. Suddenly the presiding officer stands up and dramatically cries out, as though astonished, "Answerest thou nothing? Canst thou not hear these charges against Thee?" Still that silence of lip, and those great eyes looking into His enemies' faces. Then comes the question lurking underneath all the time, put in the form of a solemn oath to the prisoner, "I adjure Thee by the living God, that Thou tell us whether Thou art the Christ, the Son of God." Thus appealed to, Jesus at once replies, "_I am_." And then, knowing full well the effect of the reply, He adds, "_Nevertheless_--notwithstanding your evident purpose regarding Me--the Son of Man will be sitting at the right hand of Power, and coming in the clouds of heaven, and ye shall see it." In supposed righteous horror Caiaphas tore his garments, and cried, "What further need is there of witnesses? Behold you have heard His blasphemy. What verdict do you give?" Back come the eager cries, "He deserves death--Guilty." So the second session closes with the verdict of guilty agreed upon. Yet this was not official. The senate could meet only in daylight hours. The propriety of form they were so eager for requires them to wait until dawn should break, and then they could technically give the decisive verdict now agreed upon. While they are waiting, the intense hatred of Jesus in their hearts and their own cruel thirstings find outlet upon Jesus' person. They--spat--in--His--face, and struck Him, with open hand and shut fist. He is blind-folded, and then struck by one and another with derisive demands that He use His prophetic skill to tell who had been hitting Him. And this goes on for possibly a couple of hours before dawn permits the next step, soldiers vying with senators in doing Him greatest insult. <u>Held Steady by Great Love.</u> Meanwhile a scene is being enacted within ear-shot of Jesus that hurts Him more than these vulgar insults. Peter is getting into bad shape. John was acquainted in the high priest's house-hold, and, going directly in without striking his colors, is not disturbed. Peter gets as far as the gateway, leading through a sort of alley into the open courtyard, around which on the four sides the palace was built. Here, as a stranger, he was refused admittance, until John comes to speak a word for him. In the center of the open court a fire was burning to relieve the cold of the night, and about this was gathered a mixed crowd of soldiers and servants and attendants. Peter goes over to the fire, and, mingling with the others, sits warming himself, probably with a studied carelessness. The maid who let him in, coming over to the fire, looks intently into his face, and then says, "You belong to the Nazarene, too." Peter stammers out an embarrassed, mixed up denial, "I don't know what you mean--I don't understand--what do you say?" Taken unawares, poor Peter mingles a lie with the denial. As soon as possible he moves away from the fire toward the entrance. It's a bit warm there--for him. He remembered afterwards that just then the crowing of a cock fell upon his ear. Again one of the serving-maids notices him and says to those standing about, "This man was with Jesus." This time the denial comes sharp and fiat, "I don't know the man." And to give good color to his words, and fit his surroundings, he adds a bit of profanity to it. An hour later, as he moves uneasily about, he is standing again by the fire. Something about him seems to make him a marked man. Evidently he has been talking, too. For now a man looking at him, said, "You belong to this Jesus. I can tell by the twist of your tongue." Peter promptly says, "No." Lying comes quicker now. But at once another speaks up, who was kin to the man that temporarily lost his ear through Peter's sword. "Why," he said, "certainly I saw you with Him in the garden." Again the denial that he knew Jesus mingled freely with curses and oath. And even as he spoke the air was caught again with the cock's shrill cry. And then Jesus, in the midst of the vulgarity being vented upon Him, turned those wondrous eyes upon Peter. What a look must that have been of sorrow, of reproach, and of tenderest love. It must surely have broken Peter's heart. The hot tears rushing up for vent were his answer. Those tears caught the light of love in that look, as he goes away into the night and weeps bitterly. Those bitter tears were as small, warm rain to a new growth within. <u>An Obstinate Roman.</u> And now the impatient leaders detect the first streaks of gray coming up in the east. The national council can now properly meet. Like their two chiefs, these men are prompt. The whips had been out over the city drumming up the members for this extraordinary session. There seems to have been a full attendance. Jesus, still bound, is led through the streets; followed by the mixed rabble, to the meeting hall, probably in the neighborhood of the temple. He is brought in and faces these men. How some of those eyes must have gloated out their green leering! Here are the men He had not hesitated to denounce openly with the severest invective ever spoken. Some time is spent in consultation. The difficulty here is to fix upon a charge upon which they can themselves agree, and which will also be sufficient for the desired action by the Roman governor. It was a tough task. They fail in it. These men divided into groups that were ever at swords' points. There were utter opposites in beliefs and policies. But their common hate of Jesus rises for the time above their hatred for each other. The charge must appeal to Pilate, for only he has power of capital punishment, and nothing but Jesus' blood will quench their thirst. Their consultation results in another attempt to question Jesus in the hope of getting some word that can be used. The president goes back to his former question, "If Thou art the Christ, tell us." Jesus reminds them of the lack of sincerity in their questionings. They would not believe Him, nor answer His questions. Then He repeats the solemn words spoken in the night session, "From henceforth shall the Son of Man be seated at the right hand of the power of God." Eagerly they all blurt out, "Art Thou then the Son of God?" Back comes the quiet, steady reply, "Ye say that I am," equal to a strong yes. Instantly they decide fully and formally upon His condemnation. So closes the third phase of the Jewish examination. The death sentence is fixed upon. The thing has been formally fixed up. The ground is now cleared for taking Him to Pilate for His death sentence. It is still early morning when Jesus is taken to Pilate. It was an imposing procession of the leading men of the nation, headed very likely by Caiaphas, that now led Jesus across the city, through its narrow streets, up to the palace of the Roman governor. Jesus is conducted into Pilate's hall of judgment within, but, with their scrupulous regard for the letter of their law, these principals would not enter his palace on that day, but remained without. They seem to be expecting Pilate to send the prisoner back at once with their death sentence endorsed. To their surprise and disgust,[A] Pilate comes out himself and wants to know the charge against the prisoner. They are not prepared for this. It is their weak point, and has been from the first. Their bold, sullen answer evades the question, while insisting on what they want, "If He were not a criminal we would not have brought Him to thee." They didn't want his opinion, but his power, his consent to their plot. But Pilate doesn't propose to be used as such a convenience. With scorn he tells them that if they propose to judge the case they may. This wrings from them the humiliating reminder that the power of capital punishment is withheld from them by their Roman rulers, and nothing less will satisfy them here. Then they begin a series of verbal charges. They are all of a political nature, for only such would this Roman recognize. This man had been perverting the nation, forbidding tribute to Caesar and calling Himself a King. It takes no keenness for Pilate to see the hollowness of this sudden loyalty to Caesar. He returns to the beautiful marble judgment hall, and has Jesus brought to him again. He looks into Jesus' face. He is keen enough to see that here is no political schemer. At most probably a religious enthusiast, or reformer, or something as harmless from his standpoint. "Art _Thou_ the King of the Jews?" he asks. Jesus' answer suggests that there was a kindliness in that face. If there be a desire for truth here He will satisfy it. This political charge had been made outside while He was within. "Do you really want to know about Me, or are you merely repeating something you have heard?" He asks, with a gentle earnestness. But Pilate at once repudiates any personal interest. "Am I a _Jew_?" he asks, with plain contempt on that word. "Thine own people are accusing thee. What hast Thou done?" Then comes that great answer, "My kingdom is not of this world, if so I would be resisting these leaders and these present circumstances would all be different. But my kingdom is not of your sort or theirs." Again there likely came a bit of softening and curious interest in Pilate's face, as he asks, "Art Thou really a _King_ then?" Jesus replies, "To this end have I been born, and to this end am I come into the world, that I should bear witness to the truth. Every one that is of the truth heareth my voice." Pilate wonders what this has to do with being a king. With a weary, impatient contempt, he says, "_Truth_? What is that?" The accused seems to be an enthusiast, a dreamer, yet withal there certainly was a fine nobility about Him. Certainly He was quite harmless politically. Leaving Him there, again he goes to the leaders waiting impatiently outside. To their utter astonishment and rage he says, "I find no fault in this man." It is the judgment of a keen, critical, worldly Roman; an acquittal, the first acquittal. The waiting crowd bursts out at once in a hot, fanatical tumult of shouted protests. Is all their sleepless planning to be disturbed by this Roman heathen? The prisoner was constantly stirring up the people all through Judea and Galilee. He was a dangerous man. Looking and listening, with his contempt for them plainly in his face, and yet a dread of their wild fanaticism in his heart, Pilate's ear catches that word Galilee. "Is the man a Galilean?" "Yes." Well, here's an easy way of getting rid of the troublesome matter. Herod, the ruler of Galilee, was in the city at his palace, come to attend the festival. It would be a bit of courtesy that he might appreciate to refer the case to him, and so it would be off his own hands. And so the order is given. <u>A Savage Duel.</u> Once more Jesus is led through these narrow streets, with the jeering rabble ever increasing in size and the national heads in the lead. They are having a lot of wholly unexpected trouble, but they are determined not to be cheated of their prey. And now they are before Herod. This is the murderer of John. He is glad to see Jesus. There has been an eager curiosity to see the man of whom so much was said, and he hoped to have his morbid appetite for the sensational satisfied with a display of Jesus' power. He plies Him with questions, while the chief priests with fierce vehemence stand accusing Him, and asking for His condemnation. But for this red-handed man Jesus has no word. To him rare light had come and been recognized, and then had been deliberately put out beyond recall. He has gone steadily down into slimiest slush since that. Now, with studied insolence, he treats this silent man with utmost contempt. His soldiers and retainers mock and deride, dressing Him in gorgeous apparel in mockery of His kingly claims. When they weary of the sport He is again dismissed to Pilate, acquitted. It is the second mocking and the second acquittal. Again the weary tramping of the streets, with the chief priests' rage burning to the danger point. Twice they have been foiled. Now the matter must be _forced_ through, and quickly, too, ere the crowd that are friendly have gotten the news. They hurry Jesus along and make all haste back to Pilate. Now begins the sixth and last phase of that awful night. Things now hasten to a climax. The character of Pilate comes out plainly here. He really feared these wildly fanatical Jews whom he ruled with a contemptuous disgust undisguised. Three times since his rule began their extreme fanaticism had led to open riot and bloodshed, and once to an appeal to the emperor, by whose favor he held his position. His hold of the office was shaky indeed if the emperor must be bothered with these superstitious details about their religion. The policy he pursued here was but a piece of the whole Roman fabric. Yet had he but had the rugged strength to live up to his honest conviction----. But then, that is the one question of life everywhere and always. He failed in the test, as do thousands. Unconsciously he was touching the quivering center of a whole world's life, and so his action stands out in boldest outline. He comes out now and sums up the case. He had examined the prisoner and found no fault touching their charges of perverting the people. Herod, their own native ruler, who was supposed to know thoroughly their peculiar views, had also fully acquitted Him. Now, as a concession to them, he will disgrace this man by a public scourging and let him go as harmless. Instantly the air is filled with their fierce shrill cries, "Away with Him: Away with Him." But Pilate seems determined to do the best he can for Jesus, without risking an actual break with these fanatical Orientals such as might endanger his own position. It was usual at feast times to release to the people some one who had been imprisoned for a political offense. The crowds, prompted by the chief priests, doubtless, begin to ask for the usual favor. Pilate brings forward a man named Barabbas, who was a robber and murderer and charged with leading an insurrection against Roman rule. Meanwhile, as he waits, a messenger comes up to him and repeats a message from his wife. She has been suffering much in dreams and urges that he have nothing to do with "that righteous man." Apparently Pilate brings forward the two men, the one a robber and murderer, the other with purity and goodness stamped on every line of His face. It is a dramatic moment. "Which of the two will you choose?" he asks. It is the appeal of a heathen to the better nature of these Jews, called the people of God. Quick as a flash of lightning the word shot from their lips and into his face, "_Barabbas!_" "What, then, shall I do with Jesus, who is called Christ?" He is weakening now. His question shows it. They are keen to see it and push their advantage. Again the words shoot out as bullets from their hot lips, "Crucify Him: crucify Him." Still he withstands them. "Why? What evil has He done? I find no fault in Him. To please you I will chastise Him and release Him." But they have him on the run now. At once the air is filled with a confused jangle of loud shrill voices, "Away with Him! Give us Barabbas! Crucify! Crucify." Apparently he yields. Barabbas is released. Jesus is led away to be scourged by the soldiers. His clothing is removed, and He is bent over, with thongs on the wrists drawn down, leaving the bare back uppermost and tense. The scourging was with bunches of leather strips with jagged pieces of bone and lead fastened in the ends. The blows meant for the back, even if laid on by a reluctant hand, would strike elsewhere, including the face. But reluctance seems absent here. Then occurs another, a third of those scenes of coarse vulgarity, horrid mockings, based on His kingly claims. The whole band of soldiers is called. Some old garments of royal purple are put upon Jesus. One man plaits a crown of the thorns that grow so large in Palestine, and with no easy gesture places it upon His head. A reed is placed in His hand. Then they bow the knee in turn, with "Hail! King of the Jews," and spit in His face, and rain blows down upon the thorn-crown. All the while their coarse jests and shouts of derisive laughter fill the air. Surely one could never tell the story were he not held in the grip of a strong purpose. But now Pilate springs a surprise. The scourging might be preliminary to crucifixion or a substitute. Again Jesus is brought forward, as arrayed by the mocking soldiers. There must have been an unapproachable majesty in that great face, as so bedecked, with the indescribable suffering lines ever deepening, He stands before them with that wondrous calm still in those sleepless eyes. Pilate seems caught by the great spirit of Jesus dominant under such treatment. He points to Him and says, "Behold the Man!" Surely this utter humiliation will satisfy their strange hate. Realizing that their fight is not yet won as they had thought, they make the air hideous with their shouts, "Crucify--crucify--crucify." Anger and disgust crowd for place in Pilate, as, with a contemptuous sneer, he says, "_You_ crucify Him. _I_ find no fault in Him." It would be illegal, but it would not be the first illegal thing. But these men are bound to get all they want from their weakening governor. One of the leaders sharply spoke up, "We have a law, and by our law He ought to die because He pretends to be the Son of God." The Roman custom was to respect the laws of their subject-peoples. All pretense of a political charge is now gone. Pilate is startled. The sense of fear that has been strong with him intensifies. That face of Jesus had impressed him. His wife's message disturbed him. Now that inward feeling that this man was being wronged grips him anew. At once he has Him led into his judgment hall for another private interview. Looking into that face again with strangely mingling emotions, he puts the question, "Whence art Thou?" But those lips refuse an answer. The time for speech is past. Angered by the silence on the part of the man he had been moved to help, Pilate hotly says, "Speakest Thou not to _Me_? Knowest Thou not I have the power to release or to crucify?" Then this strangely masterful Man speaks in very quiet tones, as though pitying His judge, "Thou wouldst have no power against Me, except it were given thee from above: therefore he that delivered Me unto thee hath greater sin." Again Pilate comes out to the waiting crowd more determined than ever to release Jesus. But the leaders of the mob take a new tack. They know the governor's sensitive nerve. "If thou release this man thou art not Caesar's friend. Every one that maketh himself a king speaketh against Caesar." That word "Caesar" was a magic word. Its bur catches and sticks at once. It was their master-stroke. Yet it cost them dear. Pilate instantly brings Jesus out and sits down on the judgment seat. The thing must be settled now once for all. As Jesus again faces them he says, "_Behold!--your King._" Again the hot shouts, "Away--Away--Crucify--Crucify." And again the question. "Shall I crucify your King?" Now comes the answer, wrung out by the bitterness of their hate, that throws aside all the traditional hopes of their nation, "_We have no king but Caesar_." Having forced that word from their lips, Pilate quits the prolonged duelling. Yet to appease that inner voice that would not be stilled--maybe, too, for his wife's sake, he indulges in more dramatics. He washes his hands in a basin of water, with the words, "I am innocent of the blood of this righteous man. See ye to it." Back come the terrible words, "His blood be on us and on our children." Surely it has been! Then Jesus is surrendered to their will. They have gotten what they asked, but at the sacrifice of their most fondly cherished national tradition and with an awful heritage. Pilate has yielded, but held them by the throat in doing it to compel words that savagely wounded their pride to utter. The savage duel is over. <u>Victory.</u> Jesus is turned over to the soldiers for the execution of the sentence. His own garments are replaced, and once more He is the central figure in a street procession, this time carrying the cross to which He has been condemned. His physical strength seems in danger of giving way under the load, after the terrible strain of that long night. The soldiers seize a man from the country passing by and force him to carry the cross. As they move along, the crowd swells to a great multitude, including many women. These give expression to their pitying regard for Jesus. Turning about, Jesus speaks to them in words that reveal the same clear mind and masterly control as ever. "Daughters of Jerusalem, be weeping for yourselves and your babes, rather than for Me. The days are coming when it shall be said, 'Blessed are the barren, and the womb that never bare, and the breasts that never gave suck.' If they have done these things while the sap of national life still flows, what will be done to them when the dried-up, withered stage of their national life is reached!" Now the chosen place is reached, outside the city wall, probably a rise of ground, like a mound or small hill. And the soldiers settle down to their work. There are to be two others crucified at the same time. A drink of stuff meant to stupefy and so ease the pain of torture was offered Jesus, but refused. And now the cross is gotten ready. The upright beam is laid upon the ground handy to the hole in which the end of it will slip, and the cross-piece is nailed in place. Jesus is stripped and laid upon the cross with His arms, outstretched on the cross-piece. A sharp-pointed spike is driven through the palm of each hand and through the feet. The hands are also tied with ropes as additional security. There is a small piece half-way up the upright where some of the body's weight may be supported. As the soldiers drive the nails, Jesus' voice is heard in prayer, "Father, forgive them; they know not what they do." Then strong arms seize the upper end, and, lifting, shift the end of the cross into the hole, and so steady it into an upright position. It is nine o'clock, and the deed has been done. The soldiers, having finished their task, now go after their pay. Jesus' garments are divided up among them, but when the outer coat is reached it is found to be an unusually good garment, woven in one piece. It was the love gift of some friend likely. So they pitch dice, and in a few moments one of them is clutching it greedily as his own. As quickly as the cross is in position the crowds are reading the inscription which has been nailed to the top to indicate the charge against the man. It was in three languages, Latin the official tongue, Greek the world tongue, and Aramaic the native tongue. Every man there read in one or other of these tongues, "_The King of the Jews_." Instantly the Jewish leaders object, but Pilate contemptuously dismisses their objection. This inscription was his last fling at them. And so Jesus was crucified as a King. There He is up above them all, while the great multitude stands gazing. Now begins the last, coarse, derisive jeering. Some of the crowd call out to Jesus, "Thou that destroyest the temple, and buildest it in three days, save Thyself; if Thou art the Son of God, come down from the cross." The chief priests have dignified the occasion with their presence. Now they mockingly sneer out their taunts, "He saved others; but He can't save Himself. He is the King of Israel. Let Him come down from the cross and we will believe on Him." The two others hanging by His side, in their pain and distress, join in the taunting cries, and the soldiers add their jibes. But through it all Jesus is silent. There He hangs with those eyes watching the people to whom His great heart was going out, for whom His great life was going out, calm, majestic, masterful, tender. The sight affects at least one of those before unfriendly. The man hanging by His side is caught by this face and spirit. He rebukes the other criminal, reminding him that they were getting their just deserts, but "This Man hath done nothing amiss." Then turning so far as he could to Jesus, he said, with a simplicity of faith that must have been so grateful to Jesus, "Jesus, remember me when Thou comest in Thy kingdom." Instantly comes the reply, "Verily, I say unto thee, to-day shalt thou be with Me in Paradise." In the crowds were many of Jesus' personal acquaintances, including women from Galilee. Close by the cross stood His mother and aunt and faithful John and a few others of those dear to Him. Most likely John is supporting Jesus' mother with his arms. Turning His eyes toward the group, Jesus speaks to His mother in tones revealing His love, "Woman, behold thy son;" and then to John, "Behold thy mother." _So_ He gives His mother a son to take His own place in caring for her, and to His friend John this heritage of love. John understands, and from that hour the ties between these two were of the closest and tenderest sort. So the hours drag along until noon. And now a strange thing occurs that must have had a startling effect. At the time of day when the sunlight is brightest a strange darkness came over all the scene, the sun's light being obscured or failing wholly. And for three hours this strange, weird spectacle continues. Then the hushed silence is broken by an agonizing cry from the lips of Jesus, "My God--My God--why--didst--Thou--forsake--Me?" One of the bewildered bystanders thinks He is calling for Elijah, and another wonders if something startling will yet occur. Jesus speaks again--"I--thirst" and some one near by with sponge and stick reaches up to moisten His lips. Then a shout, a loud cry of _victory_ bursts in one word from those lips, "_It is finished_." Then softly breathing out the last words, "Father, into Thy hands I commend My spirit," and bowing His head, Jesus, masterful, kingly to the last, _yielded up_ His spirit. The Resurrection: Gravity Upward <u>A New Morning.</u> It was near the dawning of a new morning, the morning of a new day destined to be a great day. While yet dark there come a number of women out of the city gate toward the tomb where Jesus' body had been laid. They carry spices and ointment. With woman's ever tender thoughtfulness they are bent upon some kindly service for that precious body. They had followed up the burial and noted the arrangements with a view to this morning's early service. Their whole thought is absorbed with a tomb and a body and a bit of loving attention. They wonder as they come along whom they can get to roll the heavy stone over into its groove at the side of the opening. Mary Magdalene is in the lead. With her in the darkness is her friend Mary, the mother of John and James. Others come along a little behind, in small groups. As they get near to the place the keen eyes of Mary Magdalene notice at once with a quick start that the stone is rolled away. Somebody has been tampering with the tomb in the night. Leaving her companion, she starts back on a run into the city and finds Peter, and tells him that the Lord has been taken away, and they don't know where He has been laid. Peter, too, is startled. He gets John, and the two start back on a run. Meanwhile the other women have gone on toward the tomb. As they approach they are startled and awed to find a man there, with the glorious appearance of an angel, sitting upon the stone. To these awe-stricken women this angel being quietly said, "Do not be afraid. I know you are looking for Jesus who was crucified. He is not here. He is risen, as He told you. Come and see the place where He lay." And as they gaze with wide open eyes, he adds, "Go quickly and tell His disciples, and be sure you tell Peter, that He is risen from the dead, and lo, He goeth before you into Galilee. You will meet Him there. Lo, I have told you." But the women were panic-stricken, and ran away down the road, and told no one except some of the apostles. And to them their story seemed ridiculous. They refused to believe such talk. And now Peter and John come breathless to the tomb. John is in the lead. Either he is younger or swifter of foot. As he comes up he stops at the opening of the tomb, and, with a bit of reverential awe, gazes within. He can see the linen cloths lying; but the body they had encased is clearly not in them. Peter comes up, and steps at once inside for a closer inspection. There the linen cloths are, just as they had enswathed the body, but flattened down, showing the absence of anything inside their folds. The napkin that had been about the head was folded up neatly and laid over to one side. Then John enters, and as he continues looking conviction comes to him that Jesus has indeed risen. Wondering greatly at this thing, wholly unexpected by them, they go off to their homes in the city. And now another little group of the women come up, and are perplexed in turn as the others, the stone away, the body of Jesus not there. As they stand with staring eyes and fearing hearts, two men unexpectedly appear in clothing that dazzles the women's eyes. Frightened, they bow down before these men, who seem to be angels. But the men quickly reassure them with their words. Why were they seeking a living One in a tomb? Jesus was not there. He was risen. And they remind the women of Jesus' own words about being killed and then rising again. As the men talk the women remember the Master's words, and wonderingly see their meaning now, and hurry away to tell their friends the great news. <u>Jesus Seeking Out Peter.</u> And now Mary Magdalene has gotten back to the tomb. In her zeal for the safety of that precious body, she had made quite a journey into the city and back. Her zeal took her quickly to Peter. Her sorrow makes the way back longer. She had been first to come, but had not heard the news that came to her companions. Now she stands at the open tomb weeping. She stoops and looks in to see if it can be really true that _He_ is not there. To her surprise two angel beings are seated, one at each end of where Jesus' body had been lying. They say to her, "Why are you weeping?" She replies, "Because they have taken away _my Lord_, and I know not where they have laid Him." Turning back in her grief as the words are spoken, she sees some one else standing. Again the same question by this One. Why was she weeping? Whom was she looking for? Her eyes are blinded with the rain of tears. This is likely the man in charge of the garden wherein this family tomb was. With earnest tones she says, "Sir, if _thou_ didst carry Him away, tell me where thou didst lay Him and _I_ will have Him taken away." Then that one word came to her ears, her name, in that unmistakable voice, "Mary." Quicker than a flash came the response, "_Oh, my Master_!" That same wondrous, quiet voice continues, "Do not continue to be clinging to Me. I am not yet ascended to my Father. Be going to my brethren and tell them I ascend to My Father and your Father, My God and your God." And Mary quickly departs on her glad errand for Him. She was the first to see His face and hear His voice, and have her hand upon His person, and do something at His bidding. And now the other women who had been at the tomb in the garden and fled away are on the road approaching the city. As they hurry along, to their utter amazement--here is Jesus in the road approaching them. With a glad smile in His eyes, the old, sweet voice speaks out in rich tones the usual simple salutation of greeting, "Good morning." At once they are down on their knees and faces, holding His feet and worshipping. And Jesus softly says, "Do not be afraid. Go tell my brethren to meet Me in Galilee, up by the old blue waters of the sea." While these incidents were occurring, all in such short time, something else is going on of a different sort. The Roman soldiers guarding that tomb had had a great shock. They had been suddenly displaced by another guard. The sacred Roman seal had been ruthlessly broken, the stone rolled back from the opening, and some one sat upon it. Their bewildered, stupefied senses heard the movements and were aware of a strange, blinding light. Then they knew that the body they were to guard was no longer within. That was about as much as they could get together. They hurry to town and tell the chief priests. Quickly the chief priests gather their clique to confer about this new phase. Was there ever such mulish obstinacy? No thought of candid investigation seems to enter their mind. The way of covering this new difficulty is after all easy. Money will buy the soldiers, and they will do as they are bid. It took a good bit of gold. The soldiers probably were keen to know how to work so good a mine. And the story was freely circulated that the body was stolen while the soldiers slept. Peter has gone down the road from the garden toward the city after having satisfied Himself that Jesus was not in the tomb. He was _wondering_ what all this meant. John, lighter of foot, had hurried ahead to his home in the city, very likely to tell the news to Jesus' mother, his own new mother. Peter plods slowly along. There is no need of haste now. He is thinking, wondering, thinking. It was still early morning, with the sweet dew on the ground, and the air so still. Down past some big trees maybe he was walking, deeply absorbed, when--Somebody is by his side. It is the Master! But we must leave them alone together. That was a sacred interview, meant only for Peter. <u>Made Known in the Breaking of Bread.</u> The news now quickly spread; the two stories, that of the soldiers, that of the disciples. Folks listened to the one they preferred. Everybody was discussing this new startling appendix to the crucifixion. A bit later in the day two others were walking along one of the country roads leading out of the city, toward a village a few miles away. They jog along slowly as men who are heavy footed with disappointment. They are intently absorbed in conversation, eagerly discussing and questioning about something that clearly puzzled them. A Stranger, unrecognized, overtakes them and joins in their conversation. He asks, "What is this that you are so concerned about?" So absorbed are they with their thoughts, that at His question they stand still, looking sad and unable for a moment to answer. Where would they begin where there was so much? Then one of them says, "Do you lodge by yourself in the city, and even then do not know the things that have been going on there?" The Stranger draws them out. "What things?" He says. Thus encouraged, they find relief in unburdening their hearts. It was all about Jesus, a man of great power in word and deed, before God and all the people; the great cruelty with which the rulers had secured a sentence of death for Him--and--crucified--Him. "We were, however, hoping," they said, "that He was the One who was about to redeem the nation. And now it is the third day since these things occurred. And most surprising word was brought by certain women that has greatly stirred us. They went early to the tomb, and did not find His body, but saw a vision of angels who positively said that He was alive. And some of our party went there and found it true as the women said. But--they did not see _Him_." Then the Stranger began speaking in a quiet, earnest way that caught them at once. "O foolish men, so slow you are in heart to believe the messages of the old prophets! Was it not needful that the Christ should suffer these very things and to enter into His glory?" Then He began freely to quote passages from all through their sacred writings. As they walk along listening to this wonderful explanation, which now sounds so simple from this Man's lips, they come up to their home in the village. The Stranger seemed inclined to go on. But they earnestly urge Him to come in and get some refreshment and stay over night. He may talk more. They have heard no such winsome talk since Jesus was with them. He yields. And, as they gather over the simple evening meal, the Stranger picks up the loaf, and looking up repeats the simple grace, and breaking the loaf reaches the pieces over. But as their hands go out for the bread, their eyes turn toward the Stranger's face. Instantly they are spell-bound--_that face_--why--it is the _Master!!_ Then He is not there. And they said to each other, "Did you ever hear such talking?" "My heart was burning all the time He was talking." "And mine, too." Then they hasten back to the city. Those miles are so much shorter now! They go straight to the house where they have been meeting. "_Even So Send I You_." Here were gathered most of the apostles and several others. Eagerly they were discussing the exciting news of the day. Some _know_ that Jesus has risen. Mary Magdalene, with eyes dancing, says, "I _saw_ Him." But some are full of doubt and questionings. How _could_ it be? The door is guarded, for if the frenzy of the national leaders should spread, _they_ come next. There's a knock at the door. Cautiously it is opened. Two dusty but radiant faces appear. "The Lord is risen _indeed_," they exclaim. And then they tell the story of the afternoon and His wondrous explanation and of that meal. As they are talking, all at once--who's that?--right in their midst. It looks like Jesus. There is that face with those unmistakable marks. And you can see their eyes quickly searching between the sandal straps. Yes, it looks like Him. But it can't be. Their eyes befool them. It's been a hard day for them. It must be a spirit. As they start back, there comes in that voice they can never forget, the old quiet "Good evening."--"Peace unto you." Then He holds out His hands and feet, saying, "Do not be troubled--it is I Myself--handle Me, and make sure. A spirit does not have flesh and bones as you see that I have." Then He said, "Have you something to eat?" and He ate a bit of broiled fish. Reassured by such simple practical evidence, a glad peace fills their hearts and faces. They talk together a bit. Then Jesus rising, said again, "Peace unto you--as the Father hath sent Me, even so send I you." Then He breathed strongly upon them, saying in very quiet, solemn tones, "Receive ye the Holy Spirit--Whosesoever sins ye forgive they are forgiven. Whosesoever ye retain they are retained." And again, as they look, He is not there. But one man was absent that new Sabbath evening hour. Thomas simply could not believe, and would not, without the most sane, common-sense evidence. He missed much by not being at that meeting. The next Sabbath evening he is present with the others. Again the Master comes as before, unexpectedly standing in their midst, as they talk together about Him. And now Thomas is fully satisfied after his week of doubting. Some of us folks will always be grateful for Thomas. Some time later, there occurs that second wondrous draught of fishes, at the command of the unrecognized Stranger, one morning at the breaking of the day, and the talk with Peter and the others as they walk along the old shore of the sea. And to James, who seems to have been a leader by dint of a strong personality, He appears. And one day when there was an unusually large meeting of His followers, as many as five hundred, He came as before and was recognized. And then at the last upon Olives' top came the goodbye meeting and message. It is surely worthy of remark that the Bethany home is not represented at either cross or tomb. Many of His dear friends are named in connection with both, but not these. Here are some of those dearest to Him, and to whom He is most dear. Here is one, a woman, who had discerned more keenly ahead than any other that He was to die and why. She had understood the minor strains of the old Hebrew oratorio as none other. She had learned at His feet. And here, too, was one who knew death, and the life beyond, and then a return again to this life. It was not indifference that kept them away. They loved tenderly, and were tenderly loved. Their absence is surely most significant. Mary's ointment had already been used. This morning in glad ecstasy of spirit she and her brother and sister wait. _They know._ <u>Gravity Upward.</u> Two things stand out very clearly about Jesus' resurrection. It was not expected by these followers, but received at first with incredulity and doubt and stubborn unwillingness to accept it without clear undisputable proof. And then that they were thoroughly satisfied that He was actually back again with them, with His personal identity thoroughly established; so satisfied that their lives were wholly controlled by the consciousness of a risen Jesus. Sacrifice, suffering, torture, and violent death were yielded to gladly for His sake. A new morning broke that morning, the morning of a new day, a new sort of day. That resurrection day became a new day to them and to all Jesus' followers. The old Sabbath day was a _rest_-day. God Sabbathed from His work of creation. This new day is more, it is a _victory_-day. Every new coming of it spells out Jesus' victory over sin and death and our victory in Him. The old Hebrew rest-day came at the week's close. The new victory-day comes at the week's beginning. With the fine tingle of victory in our spirits we are ever at the beginning of a new life and new victory and great things to come. Did Jesus rise? Or, was He raised? Both are said of Him. Both are true. He was raised by the power of the Father. Every bit of His human life was under the direction and control of His Father. Every act of His from first to last was in the strength of the Father. This last act was so. The Father's vindication of His Son was seen in the power that raised Him up from out of the domain of death. He was raised. _Jesus rose_ from the dead. The action was in accord with the law of His life. He rose at will by the moral gravity of His character. He had gone down, now He lets Himself rebound up. The language used of His death is very striking. No one of the four descriptions of the death upon the cross says that He _died_. The words commonly used to describe the death of others are not used of Jesus. Very different language is used. Matthew says, "He dismissed His spirit." Mark and Luke each say, "He breathed out" His life. John says, "He delivered up His spirit." His dying was voluntary. Not only the time of it and the manner of it, but the fact of it was of His own choosing. The record never suggests that death overcame Him. He yielded to it of His own strong accord. He was not overcome by death. He could not be, for sin having no hold within His being, death could have none. Physical death is one of the logical results of the sin within. Jesus yielded up His spirit. It was a free, voluntary act. He had explained months before that so it would be. "I lay down My life that I may take it again. No man taketh it from Me, but I lay it down of Myself. I have the power to lay it down, and I have the power to take it again. This commandment I received from My Father." This being so, the return to life followed the same voluntary course. Having accomplished the purpose in dying, He now recalled His spirit into the body and rises by His own choice. Man's true gravity is toward a center upward. Sin's gravity is toward a center downward. When an ordinary man, a sinful man, dies, he is overcome by the logical result of the sin in himself. He is overcome by the moral gravity downward of His sin. He has no choice. His own moral gravity apart from sin is upward. But that is overbalanced by the downward pull of the sin ingrained in his very being. And this quite apart from his attitude toward the sin. In Jesus there was no sin. Being free of it, He rose at will. "It was not possible that He should be held by death," for it had no hold upon Him. His gravity was upward. For a purpose, a great strong purpose, He yielded to death's embrace. Now that purpose being achieved, He quietly lets Himself up toward the natural center of gravity of His life. <u>The Life Side of Death.</u> Clearly Jesus' body had undergone changes through death and resurrection. It is the same to outer appearance, so far as _personal identity_ is concerned. The doubting, questioning disciples handle His person, they know His face, they recognize His voice. He eats with them and talks with them and moves in their midst as before. Even the doubter, stubborn in his demand for tangible, physical evidence, is convinced by the feel of his hands that this is indeed Jesus back again. Further, He moves about among them unrecognized till He chooses to be known. Yet this may have been His power over them rather than any changed quality in His person. But mark that the limitations of space and of material obstructions are gone after the resurrection. He no longer needs to get that body through space by physical strength or management, but seems to go where He will by choosing to be there. He is no longer affected in His movements by the walls of a building or other such material obstruction, but comes and goes at will. The arrangement of the linen cloths in the tomb, as marked so keenly by Peter and John, is significant. They are found lying as they were when enfolding that body, as though He had in rising risen up through them. Clearly the body is the same so far as personal identity is concerned. But the limitations are gone. The control of spirit over body seems full, without any limitations. As one of us can, _in spirit,_ be in a place far removed as quick as thought, so He seems to have been able to be _actually_, bodily, where He wanted to be as quickly. All the old powers remain. All the old limitations are gone, never to return. Jesus had moved over to the life side of death. He had gone down into death's domain, given it a death blow, and then risen up into a new Eden life, where neither sin nor death had power to touch. Those forty days were sample days of the new Eden life on earth. Jesus has become the leader of a new sort of life lived on the earth, mingling in its activities, but free of its power, _controlled from above_. He asks every one who will to come along after Him. We can, for He has. It is possible, because of Him. We may, for He asks us to. It is our privilege. Let us go. The Ascension: Back Home Again Until---- <u>Tarry Ye--Go Ye.</u> One day the disciples and followers of Jesus had met in Jerusalem, when Jesus Himself came again in their midst and talked with them quite a bit. He said particularly that they were not to leave Jerusalem, but wait there. In a few days the Holy Spirit would come upon them, and they were to wait until He came. Then He asked them to go with Him for a walk. And they walk together along those old Jerusalem streets, out the gate and off past Gethsemane toward the top of Olives over against Bethany. On the way they ask Him if it was His plan to set up the kingdom then. He turns their thought away from Palestine toward the world, away from times and seasons toward telling a race about Himself. And now they are standing together on the Mount of Olives. There is Peter, the new man of rock, and John and James, the sons of thunder, and little Scotch Andrew, and the man in whom is no guile, and the others. But one's eyes quickly go by these to the Man in the center of the group. These men stand gazing on that face, listening for His words. There is a consciousness that the goodbye word is about to be spoken. Yonder they can see the bit of a depression and the tops of some old trees. That is Gethsemane. And over beyond that is the city wall and the little knoll near by outside. That is Calvary. With memories such as these suggest they listen with eyes as well as ears. "Ye shall receive power," the Master is saying, "and ye shall be _My witnesses_ here in Jerusalem and in all Judea, your brothers, and in Samaria, the nearby people you don't like, and unto the uttermost part of the earth, everybody else." They are held by the words and by that face. Then He lifts up His hands in blessing upon them. And as they gaze they notice He is rising, His feet are off the earth, then higher and higher. Then a shining glory cloud sweeps down out of the blue, and now they see Him no more. <u>Coming Again.</u> They continue gazing, held spellbound by the sight, thinking maybe they may get another look. Then two men in white apparel are in their midst and speak to them: "Men of Galilee, why do you stand gazing up into the heavens? This Jesus who was received up into heaven shall so come in like manner as ye beheld Him going into heaven." That word at once sends them back to the waiting-place of which the Master had spoken. From that time they never lost the upward glance, but they were ever absorbed in obeying the Master's command. Jesus' ascension was a continuation of the resurrection movement. The resurrection was the beginning of the ascension. Having finished the task involved in dying, Jesus responded to the natural upward movement of His life. On His way up from the tomb to His Father's home and throne, He tarried awhile on the earth for the sake of these disciples and leaders, then yielded again to the upward movement. The two men in white apparel give the key to the ascension. Jesus will remain above until the next great step in the kingdom plan. Then He will return to carry out in full the Father's great love-plan for man and for the earth. His last act with these men was conducting them to the Mount of Olives. That is ever to be the point of outlook for His follower. Yonder in full view is Gethsemane and Calvary. Following the line of His eyes and pointing finger, as the last word is spoken, leads us ever to the man nearest by, to the uttermost parts of the earth, and to all between. Following His disappearing figure keeps us ever looking upward to Himself and forward to His return. Study Notes Analysis and References The spirit-key to an understanding of God's Word is surrender of will and life to His mastery. "He that is willing to do His will will know of the teaching." The mental-key to a grasp of the contents of that Book is _habitual broad reading_. It cannot be too insistently insisted upon that wide reading from end to end of the Book, and from end to end of the year, is _the_ simple essential to a clear understanding and a firm grasp of the Bible. It is the only possible salvation from the piece-meal, microscopic study of sentences and verses that has been in common use _clear out of all proportion_. Such disproportionate study steals away very largely the historical setting, and the simple meaning in the mind of speaker and writer. Wide reading habitually indulged in should come first, and out of that will naturally grow the closer study. This is the true order. In giving references it is needful to mark particular verses. Yet this is to be regretted because of our inveterate habit of reading only the marked verses instead of getting the sweep of their connection. The connection is a very large part of the interpretation of any passage. The references here are meant to be indices to the whole passage in connection. They are not meant to be full, but simply to start one going. They should be supplemented by others suggested by one's own reading, by marginal references (those of the American Revision are specially well selected), and by concordance and topical text-book. What a student digs out for himself is in a peculiar sense his own. It is woven into his fibre. It helps make him the man he comes to be. Those who may want a course to follow rigidly without independent study will find these notes disappointing. For those who want a daily scheme of study the allotment for the day can be by certain designated pages of reading with the corresponding paragraphs in the Study Notes. The paragraphing will be found to be in some measure, though not wholly, a sub-analysis. The American Revision is used here. I. The Purpose of Jesus. 1. The Purpose in the Coming of Jesus. _God Spelling Himself out in Jesus_: change in the original language--bother in spelling Jesus out--sticklers for the old forms--Jesus' new spelling of old words. _Jesus is God following us up_: God heart-broken--man's native air--bad choice affected man's will--the wrong lane--God following us up. _The Early Eden Picture_, Genesis 1:26-31. 2:7-25: unfallen man--like God--the breath of God in man--a spirit, infinite, eternal--love--holy--wise--sovereign over creation, Psalm 8:5-8--in his own will--summary--God's thought for man. _Man's Bad Break_, Genesis 3. the climax of opportunity--the tree of choice--the temptation--blended lies--the tempter's strategy--the choice made--the immediate result--safety in shame--the danger of staying in Eden--guarding man's home--the return, Rev. 2:7. 22:14, 2. John 10:10. _Outside the Eden Gate_: a costly meal--result in the man himself--ears and eyes affected--looking without seeing--a personal test--Isaiah's famous passage, Isaiah 6:9-10, see Isaiah 42:18, 20, 23. 43:8. 29:10. Jeremiah 5:21. 6:10. 7:26. Ezekiel 12:2. Psalm 69:23. Micah 3:6. Acts 7:51.--Jesus' use of parables--Jesus' irony--Matthew 13:10-15. Mark 4:10-12. Luke 8:9-10. See John 12:40. Acts 28:26, 27. Romans 11:8. John 9:39-41--tongue affected--the tongue man's index--effect of seeing God--whole mental process affected--sense of dread--- Paul's seven steps down in mental process, Ephesians 4:17-19--Jesus the music of God, the face of God. _Sin's Brood_: result in the growth of sin--three stages, flood, Moses, Paul--Paul's Summary, Romans I:18-32, see Matthew 15:19. Galatians 5:19-21. 2 Timothy 3:2-5.--Paul's Outlook--a summary of to-day--the conventional cloak--four great paragraphs--man still a king, Genesis 9:6. 1 Corinthians 11:7. James 3:9.--a composite picture--analysis of sin--the root of sin. _God's Treatment of Sin_: "gave them up," Romans 1:24, 26, 28. see Job 8:4. 1 Kings 14:16. Psalms 81:12. Acts 7:42, Romans 9:22 (endured).--the worst thing and the best--sin's gait--Jesus is God letting sin do its worst upon Himself. _A Bright Gleam of Light_: the non-Christian world--God has no favorites--all know God directly, Romans 1:20, 32. John 1:9--believing on Jesus--the outside majority--Peter's statement, Acts 10:34, 35.--Paul's statement, Romans 2:7.--persistent climbers--trusting the unknown Jesus--the Master's command--to help our brothers--Jesus is God sacrificing His best. _The Broken Tryst_, Genesis 3:8-9: God keeping tryst--man not there--God's search--a lonely God--still calling--Jesus is God calling man back to the broken tryst. _God's Wooing_: direct revelation to all--the inner light, John 1:9. Acts 17:26-28. Job 12:10. Psalms 139:1-16.--through nature, Psalms 19:1-6.--in the daily weave of life, Acts 17:28.--"The Lord's at the loom"--a special revelation, Romans 3:2. Deuteronomy 4:8.--in Jesus, Heb. 1:1-3.--the Book--the mission of the Book, John 20:31.--summary--chiefly Jesus. 2. The Plan for the Coming of Jesus. _God's Darling_, Psalms 8:5-8.--the plan for the new man--the Hebrew picture by itself--difference between God's plan and actual events--one purpose through breaking plans--the original plan--a starting point--getting inside. _Fastening a Tether inside_: the longest way around--the pedigree--the start. _First Touches on the Canvas_: the first touch, Genesis 3:15.--three groups of prediction--first group: to Abraham, Genesis 12:1-3; to Isaac, Genesis 26:1-5; to Jacob, Genesis 28:10-15; through Jacob, Genesis 49:9-11. through Balaam, Numbers 24:17-19; through Moses, Deuteronomy 18:15-19, see Matthew 21:11. John 1:21. 6:14. Acts 3:22. 7:37.--second group: David, 2 Samuel 7:16, 18, 19. 23:3-5. Psalms 2nd, 110th. Solomon in 72nd Psalm. Forty-fifth Psalm. _A Full Length Picture in Colors_: third group in prophetic books--one continuous subject--"day of the Lord," 134 times,--Somebody coming--His Person; _divine_, Isaiah 7:14. 9:6. 33:22. Micah 4:7. 5:2. Haggai 2:9. _human_, Isaiah 32:2. Daniel 7:13. _manner of birth_, Isaiah 7:14. _of native stock_, Isaiah 9:6. Ezekiel 29:21. _of David's line,_ _ Isaiah 9:7. 11:1. 16:5. Jeremiah 23:5. 33:15, 17, 21, 26. Amos 9:11. Zechariah 3:8. 6:12. _a branch of Jehovah, _ Isaiah 4:2. _a King_, Isaiah 9:6. 32:1. 33:17. Jeremiah 23:5. Zechariah 6:13. 9:9. _called David_, Jeremiah 30:9. Ezekiel 37:24, 25. Hosea 3:5. _a priest-king,_ Zechariah 6:13. _a preacher_, Isaiah 61:1-3. _a teacher_, Isaiah 9:6 (counsellor).--the kingdom, Daniel 2:34,44. Obadiah:21 (Jehovah's).--the capital, Isaiah 2:3. 4:5. 33:20,21. 59:20. 65:18, 19. Joel 3:16, 17, 20, 21. Micah 4:7, 8.--the presence of God, Ezekiel 37:27. Joel 3:21. Zechariah 2:10, 11. Zephaniah 3:17.--visibly present, Isaiah 4:5, 6.--characteristics, vengeance, Isaiah 61:2. 63:1-6. Zephaniah 3:19.--great victory, Zechariah 9:9.--- but without force, Isaiah 11:4. Zechariah 9:10.--peace, Isaiah 2:4. 9:6, 7.--established in loving kindness, Isaiah 16:5.--justice and right, Isaiah 9:7. 16:5. 32:1. Jeremiah 23:5. 33:15.--the poor and meek, Isaiah 11:4, 5.--broken-hearted, poor and imprisoned, Isaiah 61:1-3.--protection from all ills, Isaiah 32:2.--impartiality in judging even the most weak and obnoxious, Isaiah 42:3, 4.--gradual increase, Isaiah 9:7. 42:4. a great crisis, Zephaniah 4:1. Habakkuk 3:1-15. with unexpected suddenness, Malachi 3:1--effect upon Israel _nationally_; Spirit-baptized, Isaiah 44:2. Ezekiel 37:9-14. 39:29.--never withdrawn, Isaiah 59:21.--judgments removed, Zephaniah 3:14, 15.--impurity cleansed, Isaiah 4:4. Malachi 3:2, 3.--possession of land, Zephaniah 2:7.--capital holy, Joel 3:17.--weakness gone, Micah 4:6, 7. freedom from enemies, Isaiah 33:18, 19.--Jeremiah 30:8-10. Joel 3:17. Zechariah 14:11. Micah 5:6.--at peace, Isaiah 33:20. Micah 5:5.--leadership, Isaiah 2:2. Micah 4:1, 3. 5:8.--spiritual leadership, Joel 2:28, 29.--supremacy, etc., Isaiah 60:1-22. 11:10. 2:2. Micah 4:1, 3. 5:8. Zechariah 2:10.--Jerusalem center, Isaiah 60:10-14. Zechariah 14:16. effect upon Israel _personally_; made over new, Ezekiel 11:17-20. 36:25-27. Jeremiah 31:31-34. Isaiah 4:3.--devotion and open-mindedness, Isaiah 32:3-4. 44:5.--sickness absent, Isaiah 33:24.--longer lives, Isaiah 65:20.--increase in numbers, Jeremiah 33:22. Ezekiel 37:26. Isaiah 44:4.--no disappointed plans, Isaiah 65:21-23. Amos 9:14.--fear gone, Micah 4:4.--thrilled hearts, Isaiah 60:5. effect upon _other nations_; to come back to God, Micah 5:3 (see John 10:16).--Spirit upon all, Joel 2:28.--voluntary coming to Israel for instruction, Isaiah 2:3. Micah 4:2.--earth filled with knowledge, Isaiah 11:9.--her influence as the dew, Micah 5:7.--the only medium, Isaiah 60:12. wondrous blessings shared with all, Isaiah 42:1, 6, 7. 49:6. 51:4. 61:1.--universal peace, Micah 4:3-4. Zechariah 9:10. changes in nature; at Jerusalem, Isaiah 33:21. Joel 3:18 l.c. Zechariah 14:8. Ezekiel 47:1-5. Zechariah 14:4.--increased light, Isaiah 30:26.--overshadowed by presence of God, Isaiah 60:19 (Presence cloud, Exodus; as sun, Matthew 17:2 with parallels; above sun Acts 26:13).--renewed fertility, Ezekiel 36:29, 30. Hosea 2:21. Joel 3:18. Amos 9:13. Zechariah 14:10. Isaiah 4:2.--removal of curse upon earth, Zechariah 14:11. Isaiah 65:17.--the animal creation, Isaiah 11:6-9. 65:25. Hosea 2:18 (see Romans 8:20-22).--without limit, Isaiah 2:2. 9:7. Daniel 2:44. 7:14. Micah 4:1. 5:4. Zephaniah 3:20. Zechariah 9:10. Joel 3:20.--a return to original conditions--characteristics of the coming One--mental equipment, Isaiah 11:2. 42:1. 61:1.--personal beauty and dignity, Isaiah 4:2. 33:17. Daniel 7:14. Micah 5:14.--unpretentious, Zechariah 9:9.--direct touch with God, Isaiah 49:1-3. 50:4.--backed by power of God, etc., Isaiah 42:1, 6. 49:3. 52:13. 53:11. 59:20. Zechariah 3:8. Malachi 3:1.--the poor cared for righteously, Isaiah 11:3-5.--divine insight, Isaiah 11:3. _Back to Eden_: a wild dream--the Hebrew Book's conception--Simeon and Anna, Luke 2:25-38. _Strange Dark Shadowings_: weird forebodings--acted out, Joseph and David--Psalms 22. 69:20, 21. Isaiah 50:6, 7. 52:13-53:12. Daniel 9:24-26. Zechariah 11:4-14. 12:10. 13:7. a valley-road to the throne. 3. The Tragic Break in the Plan. _The Jerusalem Climate_: the contrasting receptions, Luke 2. the music of heaven, Job 38:6, 7. Luke 2:13, 14. pick out the choruses of Revelation, the crowning book.--the after-captivity leaders, see Ezra and Nehemiah--ideals and ideas--present leaders--Herod--the high priest--the faithful few, Luke 2:25, 38. 23:51. _The Bethlehem Fog_: Matthew 1 and 2. Luke 2. a foggy shadow--suspicion of Mary--a stable cradle--murder of babes--star-students--senate meeting--a troubled city-flight--Galilee. _The Man Sent Ahead_: the growing boy--John's relation to Jesus--trace passages in gospels referring to John. _The Contemptuous Rejection_: accepted by individuals, rejected by nation--John's drawing power--a dramatic presentation. John 1:19-34.--ominous silence--five satisfied seekers, John 1:35-51.--cleansing of temple, John 2:13-22.--first public work, John 2:23-25.--Nicodemus, John 3:1-21.--helping John, John 3:22, 23. 4:1 with Matthew 3:5-7. Luke 3:7-14. the dispute about the two men, John 3:25-30 (note American Revision)--John's arrest--effect upon Jesus, Matthew 4:12-25.--"withdrew." _The Aggressive Rejection_: the second stage--Nazareth, Luke 4:16-30.--seven incidents, _i.e._ (i) healing at pool of Bethesda, John 5:1-47. (2) forgiving and healing palsied man, Matthew 9:2-8 with parallels. (3) criticizing Jesus' personal conduct, Matthew 9:10-17 with parallels. (4) grain fields on the Sabbath, Matthew 12:1-8 with parallels. (5) healing whithered hand, Matthew 12:9-14 with parallels.--second "withdrew," Mark 3:7-12 with parallels. (6) charge of having an unclean spirit, Mark 3:20-30 with parallels. (7) interruption by his mother, Matthew 12:46-50 with parallels.--the murder of John, Matthew 14:1-12 with parallels.--third "withdrew," Matthew 14:13 with parallels.--staying in Galilee during fourth Passover, John 6:4, 5. _The Murderous Rejection_: a fugitive from Judea, John 7:1.--fresh attack by southern leaders, Matthew 15:1-20 with parallel in Mark.--fourth "withdrew"--outside national lines, Matthew, 15:21 with parallel in Mark.--return to Sea of Galilee and request for sign, Matthew 15:29-16:4 with parallel in Mark.--Feast of Tabernacles, John 7: 2-8:59.--the blind man cured, John 9:1-40.--Transfiguration, Matthew 17:1-8 with parallels.--the beginning of the last journey, Luke 9:51. Mark 10:1, 32. Matthew 19:1.--the Seventy, Luke 10:1-17.--getting nearer to Jerusalem, divorce question, Mark 10:2-12. Matthew 19:3-12.--Good Samaritan, Luke 10:25-37. Beelzebub, "vehemently," Luke 11. fresh tilt over Sabbath question, Luke 13:10-17.--cunning attempt to get Him into Judea, Luke 13:31.--Feast of Dedication, John 10:22-40.--Lazarus, John 11:1-46. formal decision against Him, John 11:47-53. a fugitive, John 11:57. no more openly, John 11:54. crowding pilgrims, John 11:55, 56. Lazarus again, John 12:9-11. the last week; triumphal entry, Matthew 21:1-17 with parallels, daily visits and return to Olivet, Luke 21:37-38; cleansing temple, Matthew 21:12-17 with parallels; duel of questionings, Matthew 22. Mark 11:27-12:34. Luke 20:1-44; His terrific arraignment, Matthew 23:1-39 with parallels; Greeks, John 12:20-36. Bethany feast, Matthew 26:6-13 with parallels, Judas, Matthew 26:14-16 with parallels; with the inner circle, Matthew 26:17-46 with parallels. _Suffering the Birih-pains of a New Life_: why did Jesus die?--God's plan of atonement, Leviticus 1:3-9--Paul's statement in effect, Galatians 2:20.--Jesus' dying does not fit into Hebrew ritual--standpoint of Hebrews--what God counselled, Acts 2:23.--this affects only the form not the virtue of Jesus' death--preaching of Acts, 2:14-36, 38, 39. 3:12-26. 4:8-12. 5:29-32, and on, first church council, Acts 15.13-18 with Amos 9:11-12.--the superlative of hate--Jesus' death voluntary, John 10:17, 18--ten attempts before the cross; three to kill at once, Luke 4:30. John 8:59. 10:31. other attempts, Matthew 12:14. John 5:18. 7:1, 30, 32. 10:39. 11:53 Jesus' own explanation:--the temple, John 2:19. lifted up, 3:15. Matthew 9:15 with parallels. His flesh, John 6:53-57. with Jesus' own interpretation, good Shepherd, John 10:11; for the sheep, 10:15; other sheep, 10:16; take it again, 10:17; of Myself, 10:18. cross, Matthew 10:38 with parallels. Jonah, Matthew 12:39, 40. 16:4 with parallel in Luke. Greeks, John 12:24-33. the Father's command, John 14:31. for friends, John 15:13. sanctified, John 17:19. the Father's cup, John 18:11. John's comment, John 12:47-52.--the necessity for dying--a step in a wider plan--for the nation--wholly voluntary--six elements in a perfect sacrifice--Jesus alone is a perfect sacrifice--Paul's comment, Romans 3:26.--God's master-stroke--faith--Hebrew heathen and Christian grouped. 4. Some Surprising Results of the Break. _The Surprised Jew_: a clash of wills--thousands of believing Jews--the church displacing kingdom--two-fold division of men formerly--now three-fold--church different in organization from kingdom--the Baptist puzzled--Jesus did not fill out Hebrew prophecy--two characteristics, personal and official--personal details fulfilled--official not because of rejection--out of situation grew four gospels--Mark--Matthew's the gap gospel--Paul's audiences--Luke's gospel--these three tell of rejection mainly--John's gospel--the order of the gospels in canon. _The Surprised Church_: God holds to His plan--mixed ideas of kingdom and church--a handy principle of interpretation--one law consistently applied--the church to fulfil its mission and go--the kingdom simply retarded, yet to come--the plan enriched--sliding scale of fulfilment--the King must come--- even this in Hebrew picture, Zechariah 12:10. New Testament teaching. Peter, Acts 3:21.--keeping truth in proportion--the gospel of the kingdom--Paul, 1 Thessalonians 1.10. 2:19. 3:13. 4:13-18. 5:10-23. 2 Thessalonians 1:7-10. 2:1-9. 1 Corinthians 1:7, 8. 3:13. 5:5. 15:23, 25, 51, 52. 16:22. 2 Corinthians 1:14. 5:2-4. Romans 8:18, 19, 23. 11:12-29. 13:11, 12. 16:20. Colossians 3:4. Ephesians 1:10, 14, 18. 4:4, 30. 5:27. Philippians 1:6, 10. 2:16. 3:20. 4:5. 1 Timothy 1:1 (note Paul's use of "hope" throughout). 6:14. Titus 2:13. 2 Timothy 1:12, 18. 2:12. 4:1, 8.--The Book of Revelation--the coming surprise. _The Surprising Jew_: greatest surprise--for all--the puzzle of history--divinely preserved--the keystone of the coming kingdom--Jesus the spirit magnet for Jew and all. II. The Person of Jesus. 1. The Human Jesus. _God's meaning of "Human":_ man's fellow--two meanings of word human--original meaning--natural limitations. _The Hurt of sin_: sin's added limitations. _Our Fellow_: Jesus truly human--up to first standard--His insistence--perfect in His humanness--fellowship in sin's limitations--hungry, Matthew 16:5. John 4:6-8.--tired, John 4:6. Mark 4:38.--poverty, Matthew 13:55. Mark 6:3.--hard toil, John 19:25-27.--homeless, Luke 4:16-30. Matthew 8:20. Luke 9:58.--discipline of waiting. _There's More of God since Jesus Went Back_: the Nazareth home--fellowship with His brothers--"In the shop of Nazareth"--a Man on the throne. 2. The Divine Jesus. _Jehovah-Jesus:_ John 1:1-18. the intimacy of John, John 13:23. 19:26. 20:2. 21:7, 20. "with Jesus," John 18:15.--John writes of Jesus--- when he wrote--getting the range--his literary style--the beginning--the Word--this was Jesus--the tragic tone. _God's Spokesman_: the Creator was Jehovah--- Jehovah is Jesus--the Spokesman--Old Testament revelations, Adam, Enoch, Noah, Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, Moses, the elders of Israel, Isaiah, Ezekiel,--Whom these saw--various ways of speaking--John's Gospel a battlefield--finding the Man. _Whom Moses Saw_: Jesus' own standpoint--"down from heaven," John 3:13, 31. 6:38. 8:42. would go back again, John 6:62. John 16:5, 10. 13:1. come on an errand, then going back, John 16:28 13:3. He only had seen the Father, John 6:46. only begotten Son, John 3:16, 18. His own Father, John 5:17, 18. 10:32-33. 19:7.--Jesus' answer to Jews' objection, John 5:19-47.--"He wrote of Me," the true meaning--I and the Father one, John 10:30.--the Father in Me, John 10:38. the name Father in Old Testament, 2 Samuel 7:14. 1 Chronicles 17:13. 22:10. Psalm 68:5. 89:26. 103:13. Isaiah 63:16. 64:8. Jeremiah 3:4, 19. Malachi 3:17.--Jehovah the common name--trace Jesus' use of Father about 180 times--manna, John 6:32. _Jesus is God Wooing Man_: "Abraham--saw and was glad," John 8:33-59--supposed meanings--natural meaning--"I am"--Jesus is Jehovah come Himself to woo man. 3. The Winsome Jesus. _The Face of Jesus_: Jesus drew crowds, men, women, children, bad people, enemies--His personality--face--impress of experiences--the glory of God in that face, 2 Corinthians 4:6. Hebrews 1:3. _The Music of God in the Voice of Jesus_: the eye--Jesus' eyes, Luke 4:16-30. John 8:59. 10:31. 7:32, 45, 46. 18:6. Mark 10:32. 9:36. 10:13-16. Luke 19:48.--His voice, Matthew 26:30. personal touch, Matthew 8:3, 15. 9:29. 17:7. 20:34. Mark 1:41. 7:33. Luke 5:13. 22:51. (John 14:16-20). His presence irresistible. Moses' request, Exodus 33:18. Jesus draws men--yielding to His power. III. The Great Experiences of Jesus' Life. 1. The Jordan: The Decisive Start. Matthew 3:13-17. Mark 1:9-11. Luke 3:21-22. _The Anvil of Experience_: knowledge only through experience--the Fourth, Daniel 3:25.--three Hebrews, Daniel 3.--Babylonian premier, Daniel 6:16-23.--George Mueller--Jesus made perfect through experience, Hebrews 2:10. 5:8, 9. 7:28, l.c.--all our experiences, Hebrews 2:14-18. Philippians 2:7. Hebrews 4:15, except through sin, Hebrews 4:15, l.c. 7:26. 2 Corinthians 5:21, f.c. 1 Peter 2:22. 1 John 3:5, l.c.--Jesus' suffering, Philippians 2:6-8. Hebrews 2:9, 17, 18. 4:15. His obedience, Luke 2:51. Matthew 26:39. John 10:18. 14:31. Philippians 2:8. Romans 5:19. Hebrews 5:8. knowledge through experience--common experiences--mountain peaks--the tragic in each. _Our Brother_: Jesus coming for baptism--John's objection--why baptized--getting in touch--the point of contact--choosing for Himself the Father's choice--the dangers--His strong purpose--the Father's approval--three times the voice, here, transfiguration, Matthew 17:5. Mark 9:7. Luke 9:35. Greeks, John 12:28. the decisive start. 2. The Wilderness: Temptation. Matthew 4:1-11. Mark 1:12, 13. Luke 4:1-13. _The University of Arabia_: Jesus' naturalness--the Spirit's presence--intensity, Luke 2:45-51.--a true perspective--- the temptation's path--sin's path--John's grouping, 1 John 2:16.--the Spirit's plan--why--the devil's weakness--the Spirit's leading--a wilderness for every God-used man, Moses, Elijah, Paul. _Earth's Ugliest, Deepest Scar_: Jesus the only one led up to be tempted--the wilderness--its history, Genesis 13:10-13. 18:16-19:38.--Jesus really tempted--no wrong here in inner response--every temptation--by the devil. _Waiting the Father's Word_: the tempter's skill--acting divinely--a stone for hunger--not wrong in itself--recognizing temptation--"man"--waiting the Father's word--the trained inner ear--not our power but God's through our obedience. _Love never tests_: a more agreeable setting--touching tender chords--the religious temptation--only through consent--bad scripture quoting, Psalm 91--a helpful dust-cloth--using power only to help--a true quotation, Deuteronomy 6:16. _The Devil acknowledges the King_: a dazzling scene--analyzing the tempter's proposition--a common cunning trap--Jesus' kingly conduct--the devil obeys Him--but to return--a coward--our safety in Jesus--lead us not into temptation. 3. The Transfiguration: An Emergency Measure. Matthew 16:28-17:1-8. Mark 9:1-8. Luke 9:27-36. _God in Sore Straits_: the darkest hour save one, fugitive, John 7:1. ban, John 9:22, 34. pushing, Matthew 15:1. Mark 7:1.--the danger zone, "withdrew," Matthew 4:12. 12:15. 14:13. 15:21. Tabernacles, John 7:32. 8:59.--Galileans desert, John 6:60-66.--the inner circle infected, John 6:67-71.--God needs men. _Fire and anvil for Leaders_: mental strength--seasoned leadership--Simon and Peter. _An Irresistible Plan_: alone with the twelve--the changed plan, Matthew 16:18-21.--Peter's stupid boldness, Matthew 16:22, with Mark 8:32.--the best available stuff--to see the Jesus within--getting Paul, Acts 9:1-9. 22:6-11. 26:12-18. _The Glory of that Light_: while praying--changed from within--absorbed with Jesus' master-stroke--the jarring human note--the glory obscured--through an opened door--the kingdom. _A Vision of Jesus_: gleams of light--the purpose secured, John 20:19, 24, 26-29.--an indelible impress, John 1:14. 12:41. Mark 9:3 with 1 Peter 1:16-17. Acts 12:2.--changed while looking, Acts 22:11. 2 Corinthians 3:18. 4. Gethsemane: The Strange, Lone Struggle. Matthew 26:36-46. Mark 14:32-42. Luke 22:39-46. Hebrews 5:7. _The Pathway in_: messengers ahead--Jesus _felt_ the cross drawing near--the look of His face, Luke 9:51-55.--His disciples afraid, Mark 10:32.--indignation against sin, John 11:33, 38. marginal reading American Revision.--the Greeks, John 12:20-28. _The Climax of Suffering_: the darkest shadow--why the struggle is strange--shock of extremes--His purpose in yielding--separation from the Father--Matthew 27:46. Mark 15:34 margin.--the superlative degree of suffering. _Alone_: a full evening, Matthew 26:17-19 with parallels. John, chapters 13 to 17.--for prayer--on knees and face--the changed prayer--ready for the worst. 5. Calvary: Victory. Matthew 26:47-27:61. Mark 14: 43-15:47. Luke 22:47-23:56. John 18:1-19:42. _Yielding to Arrest_: the betrayal--protecting the disciples--checking Peter's violence--the arrest--the disciples forsake Him--except two, John 18:15, 16. _The Real Jewish Ruler_: Annas the intriguer--an unrebuked insult--the case settled at once--before Caiaphas--difficulty in fixing a charge--the dramatic question and solemn answer--second condemnation--gross insults. _Held Steady by Great Love_: Peter gains entrance through John, John 18:16.--the stammering denial--the bolder--with oaths and curses--Jesus' look--Peter's tears. _An Obstinate Roman_: before the senate--trying to make a case--the formal condemnation--before Pilate--an unexpected set-back--alone with Pilate--acquitted--shrill protests--off to Herod. _A Savage Duel_: before Herod--no word for him--more insults--a second acquittal--back to Pilate--his character--his summing up--their protests--his wife's message--Barabbas or Jesus--Pilate weakening--the scourging and coarse mocking--Pilate's surprise--a new charge--the governor startled--alone again with Pilate--the use of Caesar's name--renunciation of national hopes--the defeated governor's small revenge--the duel over. _Victory_: out to Calvary--the pitying women--crucified--praying for the soldiers--pitching dice for His clothes--the inscription--coarse taunts and jests--winning a man at the very last--providing for His mother the darkness--the agonizing cry--the shout of victory. 6. The Resurrection: Gravity Upward. Matthew 28:1-15. Mark 16:1-8. Luke 24:1-49. John 20:1-21:25. 1 Corinthians 15:4-7. _A New Morning_: early visit to the tomb--Mary Magdalene's alarmed call for Peter--the message of the angels--Peter and John come--another group of women get an angelic message. _Jesus seeking out Peter_: Mary Magdalene meets Jesus--He meets other women--the soldiers' story--alone with Peter. _Made Known in the Breaking of Bread_: the Emmaus travellers--the Stranger's explanation--the evening meal--the Master! _Even so Send I you_: the meeting in Jerusalem--the Master's unexpected presence--the sure proofs--breathing on them--Thomas' stubborn doubts--a week later--a second great catch of fish--to James--to five hundred--on Olives' top--the Bethany home not represented. _Gravity Upward_: the resurrection not expected--fully assured--the new victory-day--Jesus was raised--He rose at will--His dying voluntary, so the rising--man's true gravity--sin's gravity--Jesus' gravity upward. _The Life Side of Death_: bodily changes in Jesus--personal identity unchanged--limitations gone--the Leader of a new sort of life. 7. The Ascension: Back Home Again Until---- _Tarry ye--Go ye_: the Jerusalem meeting--the walk to Olives--not Palestine only, but a world--the last word--upward--seen no more. _Coming again_: gazing upward, Acts 1:10, 11.--a continuation upward--the Olivet outlook. Footnotes [1] Genesis 2: 25. [2] Schiller. [3] "An Indian Priestess." Published by Hodder & Stoughton. [4] Mary A. Lathbury. [5] Nathaniel Parker Willis. [6] Arthur Peirce Vaughn. [7] So the best manuscripts. [8] Frances Ridley Havergal. Transcriber's Notes [A] Original text read "disguest". 
10866	----	JESUS CHRIST*** The Dolorous Passion of Our Lord Jesus Christ From the Meditations of Anne Catherine Emmerich Copyright Notice: This ebook was prepared from the 20th edition of this book, which was published in 1904 by Benziger Brothers in New York. The copyright for that edition is expired and the text is in the public domain. This ebook is not copyrighted and is also in the public domain. PREFACE TO THE FRENCH TRANSLATION. BY THE ABBE DE CAZALES. The writer of this Preface was travelling in Germany, when he chanced to meet with a book, entitled, The History of the Passion of our Lord Jesus Christ, from the Meditations of Anne Catherine Emmerich, which appeared to him both interesting and edifying. Its style was unpretending, its ideas simple, its tone unassuming, its sentiments unexaggerated, and its every sentence expressive of the most complete and entire submission to the Church. Yet, at the same time, it would have been difficult anywhere to meet with a more touching and lifelike paraphrase of the Gospel narrative. He thought that a book possessing such qualities deserved to be known on this side the Rhine, and that there could be no reason why it should not be valued for its own sake, independent of the somewhat singular source whence it emanated. Still, the translator has by no means disguised to himself that this work is written, in the first place, for Christians; that is to say, for men who have the right to be very diffident in giving credence to particulars concerning facts which are articles of faith; and although he is aware that St. Bonaventure and many others, in their paraphrases of the Gospel history, have mixed up traditional details with those given in the sacred text, even these examples have not wholly reassured him. St. Bonaventure professed only to give a paraphrase, whereas these revelations appear to be something more. It is certain that the holy maiden herself gave them no higher title than that of dreams, and that the transcriber of her narratives treats as blasphemous the idea of regarding them in any degree as equivalent to a fifth Gospel; still it is evident that the confessors who exhorted Sister Emmerich to relate what she saw, the celebrated poet who passed four years near her couch, eagerly transcribing all he heard her say, and the German Bishops, who encouraged the publication of his book, considered it as something more than a paraphrase. Some explanations are needful on this head. The writings of many Saints introduce us into a new, and, if I may be allowed the expression, a miraculous world. In all ages there have been revelations about the past, the present, the future, and even concerning things absolutely inaccessible to the human intellect. In the present day men are inclined to regard these revelations as simple hallucinations, or as caused by a sickly condition of body. The Church, according to the testimony of her most approved writers, recognises three descriptions of ecstasy; of which the first is simply natural, and entirely brought about by certain physical tendencies and a highly imaginative mind; the second divine or angelic, arising from intercourse held with the supernatural world; and the third produced by infernal agency. (See, on this head, the work of Cardinal Bona, De Discretione Spirituum.) Lest we should here write a book instead of a preface, we will not enter into any development of this doctrine, which appears to us highly philosophical, and without which no satisfactory explanation can be given on the subject of the soul of man and its various states. The Church directs certain means to be employed to ascertain by what spirit these ecstasies are produced, according to the maxim of St. John: 'Try the spirits, if they be of God.' (1 Jn 4:1). When circumstances or events claiming to be supernatural have been properly examined according to certain rules, the Church has in all ages made a selection from them. Many persons who have been habitually in a state of ecstasy have been canonised, and their books approved. But this approbation has seldom amounted to more than a declaration that these books contained nothing contrary to faith, and that they were likely to promote a spirit of piety among the faithful. For the Church is only founded on the word of Christ and on the revelations made to the Apostles. Whatever may since have been revealed to certain saints possesses purely a relative value, the reality of which may even be disputed--it being one of the admirable characteristics of the Church, that, though inflexibly one in dogma, she allows entire liberty to the human mind in all besides. Thus, we may believe private revelations, above all, when those persons to whom they were made have been raised by the Church to the rank of Saints publicly honoured, invoked, and venerated; but, even in these cases, we may, without ceasing to be perfectly orthodox, dispute their authenticity and divine origin. It is the place of reason to dispute and to select as it sees best. With regard to the rule for discerning between the good and the evil spirit, it is no other, according to all theologians, than that of the Gospel. A fructibus eorum cognoscetis eos. By their fruits you shall know them. It must be examined in the first place whether the person who professes to have revelations mistrusts what passes within himself; whether he would prefer a more common path; whether far from boasting of the extraordinary graces which he receives, he seeks to hide them, and only makes them known through obedience; and, finally, whether he is continually advancing in humility, mortification, and charity. Next, the revelations themselves must be very closely examined into; it must be seen whether there is anything in them contrary to faith; whether they are conformable to Scripture and Apostolic tradition; and whether they are related in a headstrong spirit, or in a spirit of entire submission to the Church. Whoever reads the life of Anne Catherine Emmerich, and her book, will be satisfied that no fault can be found in any of these respects either with herself or with her revelations. Her book resembles in many points the writings of a great number of saints, and her life also bears the most striking similitude to theirs. To be convinced of this fact, we need but study the writings or what is related of Saints Francis of Assisi, Bernard, Bridget, Hildegard, Catherine of Genoa, Catherine of Sienna, Ignatius, John of the Cross, Teresa, and an immense number of other holy persons who are less known. So much being conceded, it is clear that in considering Sister Emmerich to have been inspired by God's Holy Spirit, we are not ascribing more merit to her book than is allowed by the Church to all those of the same class. They are all edifying, and may serve to promote piety, which is their sole object. We must not exaggerate their importance by holding as an absolute fact that they proceed from divine inspiration, a favour so great that its existence in any particular case should not be credited save with the utmost circumspection. With regard, however, to our present publication, it may be urged that, considering the superior talents of the transcriber of Sister Emmerich's narrations, the language and expressions which he has made use of may not always have been identical with those which she employed. We have no hesitation whatever in allowing the force of this argument. Most fully do we believe in the entire sincerity of M. Clement Brentano, because we both know and love him, and, besides, his exemplary piety and the retired life which he leads, secluded from a world in which it would depend but on himself to hold the highest place, are guarantees amply sufficient to satisfy any impartial mind of his sincerity. A poem such as he might publish, if he only pleased, would cause him to be ranked at once among the most eminent of the German poets, whereas the office which he has taken upon himself of secretary to a poor visionary has brought him nothing but contemptuous raillery. Nevertheless, we have no intention to assert that in giving the conversations and discourses of Sister Emmerich that order and coherency in which they were greatly wanting, and writing them down in his own way, he may not unwittingly have arranged, explained, and embellished them. But this would not have the effect of destroying the originality of the recital, or impugning either the sincerity of the nun, or that of the writer. The translator professes to be unable to understand how any man can write for mere writing's sake, and without considering the probable effects which his work will produce. This book, such as it is, appears to him to be at once unusually edifying, and highly poetical. It is perfectly clear that it has, properly speaking, no literary pretensions whatever. Neither the uneducated maiden whose visions are here relate, nor the excellent Christian writer who had published them in so entire a spirit of literary disinterestedness, ever had the remotest idea of such a thing. And yet there are not, in our opinion, many highly worked-up compositions calculated to produce an effect in any degree comparable to that which will be brought about by the perusal of this unpretending little work. It is our hope that it will make a strong impression even upon worldlings, and that in many hearts it will prepare the way for better ideas,--perhaps even for a lasting change of life. In the next place, we are not sorry to call public attention in some degree to all that class of phenomena which preceded the foundation of the Church, which has since been perpetuated uninterruptedly, and which too many Christians are disposed to reject altogether, either through ignorance and want of reflection, or purely through human respect. This is a field which has hitherto been but little explored historically, psychologically, and physiologically; and it would be well if reflecting minds were to bestow upon it a careful and attentive investigation. To our Christian readers we must remark that this work has received the approval of ecclesiastical authorities. It has been prepared for the press under the superintendence of the two late Bishops of Ratisbonne, Sailer and Wittman. These names are but little known in France; but in Germany they are identical with learning, piety, ardent charity, and a life wholly devoted to the maintenance and propagation of the Catholic faith. Many French priests have given their opinion that the translation of a book of this character could not but tend to nourish piety, without, however, countenancing that weakness of spirit which is disposed to lend more importance in some respects to private than to general revelations, and consequently to substitute matters which we are simply permitted to believe, in the place of those which are of faith. We feel convinced that no one will take offence at certain details given on the subject of the outrages which were suffered by our divine Lord during the course of his passion. Our readers will remember the words of the psalmist: 'I am a worm and no man; the reproach of men, and the outcast of the people;' (Ps 22:6) and those of the Apostle: 'Tempted in all things like as we are, without sin.' (Heb 4:15). Did we stand in need of a precedent, we should request our readers to remember how plainly and crudely Bossuet describes the same scenes in the most eloquent of his four sermons on the Passion of our Lord. On the other hand, there have been so many grand platonic or rhetorical sentences in the books published of late years, concerning that abstract entity; on which the writers have been pleased to bestow the Christian title of the Word, or Logos, that it may be eminently useful to show the Man-God, the Word made flesh, in all the reality of his life on earth, of his humiliation, and of his sufferings. It must be evident that the cause of truth, and still more that of edification, will not be the losers. INTRODUCTION The following meditations will probably rank high among many similar works which the contemplative love of Jesus has produced; but it is our duty here plainly to affirm that they have no pretensions whatever to be regarded as history.1 They are but intended to take one of the lowest places among those numerous representations of the Passion which have been given us by pious writers and artists, and to be considered at the very utmost as the Lenten meditations of a devout nun, related in all simplicity, and written down in the plainest and most literal language, from her own dictation. To these meditations, she herself never attached more than a mere human value, and never related them except through obedience, and upon the repeated commands of the directors of her conscience. The writer of the following pages was introduced to this holy religious by Count Leopold de Stolberg. (The Count de Stolberg is one of the most eminent converts whom the Catholic Church has made from Protestantism. He died in 1819.) Dean Bernard Overberg, her director extraordinary, and Bishop Michael Sailer, who had often been her counsellor and consoler, urged her to relate to us in detail all that she experienced; and the latter, who survived her, took the deepest interest in the arrangement and publication of the notes taken down from her dictation. (The Bishop of Ratisbonne, one of the most celebrated defenders of the faith in Germany.) These illustrious and holy men, now dead, and whose memory is blessed, were in continual communion of prayer with Anne Catherine, whom they loved and respected, on account of the singular graces with which God had favoured her. The editor of this book received equal encouragement, and met with no less sympathy in his labours, from the late Bishop of Ratisbonne, Mgr. Wittman. (Mgr. Wittman was the worthy successor of Sailer, and a man of eminent sanctity, whose memory is held in veneration by all the Catholics of the south of Germany.) This holy Bishop, who was so deeply versed in the ways of Divine grace, and so well acquainted with its effects on certain souls, both from his private investigations of the subject, and his own experience, took the most lively interest in all that concerned Anne Catherine, and on hearing of the work in which the editor of this book was engaged, he strongly exhorted him to publish it. 'These things have not been communicated to you for nothing,' would he often say; 'God had his views in all. Publish something at least of what you know, for you will thereby benefit many souls.' He at the same time brought forward various instances from his own experience and that of others, showing the benefit which had been derived from the study of works of a similar character. He delighted in calling such privileged souls as Anne Catherine the marrow of the bones of the Church, according to the expression of St. John Chrysostom, medulla enim hujus mundi sunt, and he encouraged the publication of their lives and writings as far as lay in his power. The editor of this book being taken by a kind friend to the dying bed of the holy Bishop, had no reason whatever to expect to be recognised, as he had only once in his life conversed with him for a few minutes; nevertheless the dying saint knew him again, and after a few most kind words blessed and exhorted him to continue his work for the glory of God. Encouraged by the approbation of such men, we therefore yield to the wishes of many virtuous friends in publishing the Meditations on the Passion, of this humble religious, to whom God granted the favour of being at times simple, ingenuous, and ignorant as a child, while at others she was clear sighted, sensible, possessed of a deep insight into the most mysterious and hidden things, and consumed with burning and heroic zeal, but ever forgetful of self, deriving her whole strength from Jesus alone, and steadfast in the most perfect humility and entire self-abnegation. We give our readers a slight sketch of her life, intending at some future day to publish her biography more in full. The Life Of Anne Catherine Emmerich, Religious Of The Order Of St. Augustine, At The Convent Of Agnetenberg, Dulmen, Westphalia. Venerable Anne Catherine Emmerich2 was born at Flamske, a village situated about a mile and a half from Coesfeld, in the bishopric of Munster, on the 8th of September 1774, and was baptised in the church of St. James at Coesfeld. Her parents, Bernard Emmerich and Anne Hiller, were poor peasants, but distinguished for their piety and virtue. The childhood of Anne Catherine bore a striking resemblance to that of the Venerable Anne Garzias de St. Barthelemi, of Dominica del Paradiso, and of several other holy persons born in the same rank of life as herself. Her angel-guardian used to appear to her as a child; and when she was taking care of sheep in the fields, the Good Shepherd himself, under the form of a young shepherd, would frequently come to her assistance. From childhood she was accustomed to have divine knowledge imparted to her in visions of all kinds, and was often favoured by visits from the Mother of God and Queen of Heaven, who, under the form of a sweet, lovely, and majestic lady, would bring the Divine Child to be, as it were, her companion, and would assure her that she loved and would ever protect her. Many of the saints would also appear to her, and receive from her hands the garlands of flowers which she had prepared in honour of their festivals. All these favours and visions surprised the child less than if an earthly princess and the lords and ladies of her court had come to visit her. Nor was she, later in life, more surprised at these celestial visits, for her innocence caused her to feel far more at her ease with our Divine Lord, his Blessed Mother and the Saints, than she could ever be with even the most kind and amiable of her earthly companions. The names of Father, Mother, Brother, and Spouse, appeared to her expressive of the real connections subsisting between God and man, since the Eternal word had been pleased to be born of a woman, and so to become our Brother, and these sacred titles were not mere words in her mouth. While yet a child, she used to speak with innocent candour and simplicity of all that she saw, and her listeners would be filled with admiration at the histories she would relate from Holy Writ; but their questions and remarks having sometimes disturbed her peace of mind, she determined to keep silence on such subjects for the future. In her innocence of heart, she thought that it was not right to talk of things of this sort, that other persons never did so, and that her speech should be only Yea, yea, and Nay, nay, or Praise be to Jesus Christ. The visions with which she was favoured were so like realities, and appeared to her so sweet and delightful, that she supposed all Christian children were favoured with the same; and she concluded that those who never talked on such subjects were only more discreet and modest than herself, so she resolved to keep silence also, to be like them. Almost from her cradle she possessed the gift of distinguishing what was good or evil, holy or profane, blessed or accursed, in material as well as in spiritual things, thus resembling St. Sibyllina of Pavia, Ida of Louvain, Ursula Benincasa, and some other holy souls. In her earliest childhood she used to bring out of the fields useful herbs, which no one had ever before discovered to be good for anything, and plant them near her father's cottage, or in some spot where she was accustomed to work and play; while on the other hand she would root up all poisonous plants, and particularly those ever used for superstitious practices or in dealings with the devil. Were she by chance in a place where some great crime had been committed, she would hastily run away, or begin to pray and do penance. She used also to perceive by intuition when she was in a consecrated spot, return thanks to God, and be filled with a sweet feeling of peace. When a priest passed by with the Blessed Sacrament, even at a great distance from her home or from the place where she was taking care of her flock, she would feel a strong attraction in the direction whence he was coming, run to meet him, and be kneeling in the road, adoring the Blessed Sacrament, long before he could reach the spot. She knew when any object was consecrated, and experienced a feeling of disgust and repugnance when in the neighbourhood of old pagan cemeteries, whereas she was attracted to the sacred remains of the saints as steel by the magnet. When relics were shown to her, she knew what saints they had belonged to, and could give not only accounts of the minutest and hitherto unknown particulars of their lives, but also histories of the relics themselves, and of the places where they had been preserved. During her whole life she had continual intercourse with the souls in purgatory; and all her actions and prayers were offered for the relief of their sufferings. She was frequently called upon to assist them, and even reminded in some miraculous manner, if she chanced to forget them. Often, while yet very young, she used to be awakened out of her sleep by bands of suffering souls, and to follow them on cold winter's nights with bare feet, the whole length of the Way of the Cross to Coesfeld, though the ground was covered with snow. From her infancy to the day of her death she was indefatigable in relieving the sick, and in dressing and curing wounds and ulcers, and she was accustomed to give to the poor every farthing she possessed. So tender was her conscience, that the slightest sin she fell into caused her such pain as to make her ill, and absolution then always restored her immediately to health. The extraordinary nature of the favours bestowed on her by Almighty God was no hindrance in the way of her devoting herself to hard labour, like any other peasant-girl; and we may also be allowed to observe that a certain degree of the spirit of prophecy is not unusually to be found among her country men and women. She was taught in the school of suffering and mortification, and there learned lessons of perfection. She allowed herself no more sleep or food than was absolutely necessary; passed whole hours in prayer every night; and in winter often knelt out of doors on the snow. She slept on the ground on planks arranged in the form of a cross. Her food and drink consisted of what was rejected by others; she always kept the best parts even of that for the poor and sick, and when she did not know of anyone to give them to, she offered them to God in a spirit of child-like faith, begging him to give them to some person who was more in need than herself. When there was anything to be seen or heard which had no reference to God or religion, she found some excuse for avoiding the spot to which others were hastening, or, if there, closed her eyes and ears. She was accustomed to say that useless actions were sinful, and that when we denied our bodily senses any gratification of this kind, we were amply repaid by the progress which we made in the interior life, in the same manner as pruning renders vines and other fruittrees more productive. From her early youth, and wherever she went, she had frequent symbolical visions, which showed her in parables, as it were, the object of her existence, the means of attaining it, and her future sufferings, together with the dangers and conflicts which she would have to go through. She was in her sixteenth year, when one day, whilst at work in the fields with her parents and sisters, she heard the bell ringing at the Convent of the Sisters of the Annunciation, at Coesfeld. This sound so inflamed her secret desire to become a nun, and had so great an effect upon her, that she fainted away, and remained ill and weak for a long time after. When in her eighteenth year she was apprenticed at Coesfeld to a dressmaker, with whom she passed two years, and then returned to her parents. She asked to be received at the Convents of the Augustinians at Borken, of the Trappists at Darfeld, and of the Poor Clares at Munster; but her poverty, and that of these convents, always presented an insuperable obstacle to her being received. At the age of twenty, having saved twenty thalers (about 3l. English), which she had earned by her sewing, she went with this little sum--a perfect fortune for a poor peasant-girl--to a pious organist of Coesfeld, whose daughter she had known when she first lived in the town. Her hope was that, by learning to play on the organ, she might succeed in obtaining admittance into a convent. But her irresistible desire to serve the poor and give them everything she possessed left her no time to learn music, and before long she had so completely stripped herself of everything, that her good mother was obliged to bring her bread, milk, and eggs, for her own wants and those of the poor, with whom she shared everything. Then her mother said: 'Your desire to leave your father and myself, and enter a convent, gives us much pain; but you are still my beloved child, and when I look at your vacant seat at home, and reflect that you have given away all your savings, so as to be now in want, my heart is filled with sorrow, and I have now brought you enough to keep you for some time.' Anne Catherine replied: 'Yes, dear mother, it is true that I have nothing at all left, because it was the holy will of God that others should be assisted by me; and since I have given all to him, he will now take care of me, and bestow his divine assistance upon us all.' She remained some years at Coesfeld, employed in labour, good works, and prayer, being always guided by the same inward inspirations. She was docile and submissive as a child in the hands of her guardian-angel. Although in this brief sketch of her life we are obliged to omit many interesting circumstances, there is one which we must not pass over in silence. When about twenty-four years of age, she received a favour from our Lord, which has been granted to many persons devoted in an especial manner to meditation on his painful Passion; namely, to experience the actual and visible sufferings of his sacred Head, when crowned with thorns. The following is the account she herself has given of the circumstances under which so mysterious a favour was bestowed upon her: 'About four years previous to my admittance into the convent, consequently in 1798, it happened that I was in the Jesuits' Church at Coesfeld, at about twelve o'clock in the day, kneeling before a crucifix and absorbed in meditation, when all on a sudden I felt a strong but pleasant heat in my head, and I saw my Divine Spouse, under the form of a young man clothed with light, come towards me from the altar, where the Blessed Sacrament was preserved in the tabernacle. In his left hand he held a crown of flowers, in his right hand a crown of thorns, and he bade me choose which I would have. I chose the crown of thorns; he placed it on my head, and I pressed it down with both hands. Then he disappeared, and I returned to myself, feeling, however, violent pain around my head. I was obliged to leave the church, which was going to be closed. One of my companions was kneeling by my side, and as I thought she might have seen what happened to me, I asked her when we got home whether there was not a wound on my forehead, and spoke to her in general terms of my vision, and of the violent pain which had followed it. She could see nothing outwardly, but was not astonished at what I told her, because she knew that I was sometimes in an extraordinary state, without her being able to understand the cause. The next day my forehead and temples were very much swelled, and I suffered terribly. This pain and swelling often returned, and sometimes lasted whole days and nights. I did not remark that there was blood on my head until my companions told me I had better put on a clean cap, because mine was covered with red spots. I let them think whatever they liked about it, only taking care to arrange my head dress so as to hide the blood which flowed from my head, and I continued to observe the same precaution even after I entered the convent, where only one person perceived the blood, and she never betrayed my secret.' Several other contemplative persons, especially devoted to the passion of our Lord, have been admitted to the privilege of suffering the torture inflicted by the crown of thorns, after having seen a vision in which the two crowns were offered them to choose between, for instance, among others, St. Catherine of Sienna, and Pasithea of Crogis, a Poor Clare of the same town, who died in 1617. The writer of these pages may here be allowed to remark that he himself has, in full daylight, several times seen blood flow down the forehead and face, and even beyond the linen wrapped round the neck of Anne Catherine. Her desire to embrace a religious life was at length gratified. The parents of a young person whom the Augustinian nuns of Dulmen wished to receive into their order, declared that they would not give their consent except on condition that Anne Catherine was taken at the same time. The nuns yielded their assent, though somewhat reluctantly, on account of their extreme poverty; and on the 13th November 1802, one week before the feast of the Presentation of the Blessed Virgin, Anne Catherine entered on her novitiate. At the present day vocations are not so severely tested as formerly; but in her case, Providence imposed special trials, for which, rigorous as they were, she felt she never could be too grateful. Sufferings or privations, which a soul, either alone or in union with others, imposes upon herself, for God's greater glory, are easy to bear; but there is one cross more nearly resembling the cross of Christ than any other, and that is, lovingly and patiently to submit to unjust punishment, rebuffs, or accusations. It was the will of God that during her year's novitiate she should, independently of the will of any creature, be tried as severely as the most strict mistress of novices could have done before any mitigations had been allowed in the rules. She learned to regard her companions as instruments in the hands of God for her sanctification; and at a later period of her life many other things appeared to her in the same light. But as it was necessary that her fervent soul should be constantly tried in the school of the Cross, God was pleased that she should remain in it all her life. In many ways her position in the convent was excessively painful. Not one of her companions, nor even any priest or doctor, could understand her case. She had learned, when living among poor peasants, to hide the wonderful gifts which God had bestowed on her; but the case was altered now that she was in familiar intercourse with a large number of nuns, who, though certainly good and pious, were filled with ever-increasing feelings of curiosity, and even of spiritual jealousy in her regard. Then, the contracted ideas of the community, and the complete ignorance of the nuns concerning all those exterior phenomena by which the interior life manifests itself, gave her much to endure, the more so, as these phenomena displayed themselves in the most unusual and astonishing manner. She heard everything that was said against her, even when the speakers were at on end of the convent and she at the other, and her heart was most deeply wounded as if by poisoned arrows. Yet she bore all patiently a lovingly without showing that she knew what was said of her. More than once charity impelled her to cast herself at the feet of some nun who was particularly prejudiced against her, and ask her pardon with tears. Then, she was suspected of listening at the doors, for the private feelings of dislike entertained against her became known, no one knew how, and the nuns felt uncomfortable and uneasy, in spite of themselves, when in her company. Whenever the rule (the minutest point of which was sacred in her eyes) was neglected in the slightest degree, she beheld in spirit each infringement, and at times was inspired to fly to the spot where the rule was being broken by some infringement of the vow of poverty, or disregards of the hours of silence, and she would then repeat suitable passages from the rule, without having ever learned them. She thus became an object of aversion to all those religious who broke the rule; and her sudden appearance among them had almost the effect of apparitions. God had bestowed upon her the gift of tears to so great an extent, that she often passed whole hours in the church weeping over the sins and ingratitude of men, the sufferings of the Church, the imperfections of the community, and her own faults. But these tears of sublime sorrow could be understood by none but God, before whom she shed them, and men attributed them to mere caprice, a spirit of discontent, or some other similar cause. Her confessor had enjoined that she should receive the holy communion more frequently than the other nuns, because, so ardently did she hunger after the bread of angels, that she had been more than once near dying. These heavenly sentiments awakened feelings of jealousy in her sisters, who sometimes even accused her of hypocrisy. The favour which had been shown her in her admittance into the convent, in spite of her poverty, was also made a subject of reproach. The thought of being thus an occasion of sin to others was most painful to her, and she continually besought God to permit her to bear herself the penalty of this want of charity in her regard. About Christmas, of the year 1802, she had a very severe illness, which began by a violent pain about her heart. This pain did not leave her even when she was cured, and she bore it in silence until the year 1812, when the mark of a cross was imprinted exteriorly in the same place, as we shall relate further on. Her weakness and delicate health caused her to be looked upon more as burdensome than useful to the community; and this, of course, told against her in all ways, yet she was never weary of working and serving the others, nor was she ever so happy as at this period of her life--spent in privations and sufferings of every description. On the 13th of November 1803, at the age of twenty-nine, she pronounced her solemn vows, and became the spouse of Jesus Christ, in the Convent of Agnetenberg, at Dulmen. 'When I had pronounced my vows,' she says, 'my relations were again extremely kind to me. My father and my eldest brother brought me two pieces of cloth. My father, a good, but stern man, and who had been much averse to my entering the convent, had told me, when we parted, that he would willingly pay for my burial, but that he would give nothing for the convent; and he kept his word, for this piece of cloth was the winding sheet used for my spiritual burial in the convent.' 'I was not thinking of myself,' she says again, 'I was thinking of nothing but our Lord and my holy vows. My companions could not understand me; nor could I explain my state to them. God concealed from them many of the favours which he bestowed upon me, otherwise they would have had very false ideas concerning me. Notwithstanding all my trials and sufferings, I was never more rich interiorly, and my soul was perfectly flooded with happiness. My cell only contained one chair without a seat, and another without a back; yet in my eyes, it was magnificently furnished, and when there I often thought myself in Heaven. Frequently during the night, impelled by love and by the mercy of God, I poured forth the feelings of my soul by conversing with him on loving and familiar language, as I had always done from my childhood, and then those who were watching me would accuse me of irreverence and disrespect towards God. Once, I happened to say that it appeared to me that I should be guilty of greater disrespect did I receive the Body of our Lord without having conversed familiarly with him, and I was severely reprimanded. Amid all these trials, I yet lived in peace with God and with all his creatures. When I was working in the garden, the birds would come and rest on my head and shoulders, and we would together sing the praises of God. I always beheld my angel-guardian at my side, and although the devil used frequently to assault and terrify me in various ways, he was never permitted to do me much harm. My desire for the Blessed Sacrament was so irresistible, that often at night I left my cell and went to the church, if it was open; but if not, I remained at the door or by the walls, even in winter, kneeling or prostrate, with my arms extended in ecstasy. The convent chaplain, who was so charitable as to come early to give me the Holy Communion, used to find me in this state, but as soon as he was come and had opened the church, I always recovered, and hastened to the holy table, there to receive my Lord and my God. When I was sacristan, I used all on a sudden to feel myself ravished in spirit, and ascend to the highest parts of the church, on to cornices, projecting parts of the building, and mouldings, where it seemed impossible for any being to get by human means. Then I cleaned and arranged everything, and it appeared to me that I was surrounded by blessed spirits, who transported me about and held me up in their hands. Their presence did not cause me the least uneasiness, for I had been accustomed to it from my childhood, and I used to have the most sweet and familiar intercourse with them. It was only when I was in the company of certain men that I was really alone; and so great was then my feeling of loneliness that I could not help crying like a child that has strayed from home.' We now proceed to her illnesses, omitting any description of some other remarkable phenomena of her ecstatic life, only recommending the reader to compare the accounts we have already given with what is related of St. Mary Magdalen of Pazzi. Anne Catherine had always been weak and delicate, and yet had been, from her earliest childhood, in the habit of practising many mortifications, of fasting and of passing the night in watching and prayer in the open air. She had been accustomed to continue hard labour in the fields, at all seasons of the year, and her strength was also necessarily much tried by the exhausting and supernatural states through which she so frequently passed. At the convent she continued to work in the garden and in the house, whilst her spiritual labours and sufferings were ever on the increase, so that it is by no means surprising that she was frequently ill; but her illnesses arose from yet another cause. We have learned, from careful observations made every day for the space of four years, and also from what she herself was unwillingly forced to admit, that during the whole course of her life, and especially during that part of it which she spent at the convent, when she enjoyed the highest spiritual favours, a great portion of her illnesses and sufferings came from taking upon herself the sufferings of others. Sometimes she asked for the illness of a person who did not bear it patiently, and relieved him of the whole or of a part of his sufferings, by taking them upon herself; sometimes, wishing to expiate a sin or put an end to some suffering, she gave herself up into the hands of God, and he, accepting her sacrifice, permitted her thus, in union with the merits of his passion, to expiate the sin by suffering some illness corresponding to it. She had consequently to bear, not only her own maladies, but those also of others--to suffer in expiation of the sins of her brethren, and of the faults and negligences of certain portions of the Christian community--and, finally, to endure many and various sufferings in satisfaction for the souls of purgatory. All these sufferings appeared like real illnesses, which took the most opposite and variable forms, and she was placed entirely under the care of the doctor, who endeavoured by earthly remedies to cure illnesses which in reality were the very sources of her life. She said on this subject--'Repose in suffering has always appeared to me the most desirable condition possible. The angels themselves would envy us, were envy not an imperfection. But for sufferings to bear really meritorious we must patiently and gratefully accept unsuitable remedies and comforts, and all other additional trials. I did not myself fully understand my state, nor know what it was to lead to. In my soul I accepted my different sufferings, but in my body it was my duty to strive against them. I had given myself wholly and entirely to my Heavenly Spouse, and his holy will was being accomplished in me; but I was living on earth, where I was not to rebel against earthly wisdom and earthly prescriptions. Even had I fully comprehended my state, and had both time and power to explain it, there was no one near who would have been able to understand me. A doctor would simply have concluded that I was entirely mad, and would have increased his expensive and painful remedies tenfold. I have suffered much in this way during the whole of my life, and particularly when I was at the convent, from having unsuitable remedies administered to me. Often, when my doctors and nurses had reduced me to the last agony, and that I was near death, God took pity on me, and sent me some supernatural assistance, which effected an entire cure.' Four years before the suppression of her convent she went to Flamske for two days to visit her parents. Whilst there she went once to kneel and pray for some hours before the miraculous Cross of the Church of St. Lambert, at Coesfeld. She besought the Almighty to bestow the gifts of peace and unity upon her convent, offered him the Passion of Jesus Christ for that intention, and implored him to allow her to feel a portion of the sufferings which were endured by her Divine Spouse on the Cross. From the time that she made this prayer her hands and feet became burning and painful, and she suffered constantly from fever, which she believed was the cause of the pain in her hands and feet, for she did not dare to think that her prayer had been granted. Often she was unable to walk, and the pain in her hands prevented her from working as usual in the garden. On the 3rd December 1811, the convent was suppressed, and the church closed. (Under the Government of Jerome Bonaparte, King of Westphalia.) The nuns dispersed in all directions, but Anne Catherine remained, poor and ill. A kindhearted servant belonging to the monastery attended upon her out of charity, and an aged emigrant priest, who said Mass in the convent, remained also with her. These three individuals, being the poorest of the Community, did not leave the convent until the spring of 1812. She was still very unwell, and could not be moved without great difficulty. The priest lodged with a poor widow who lived in the neighbourhood, and Anne Catherine had in the same house a wretched little room on the ground-floor, which looked on the street. There she lived, in poverty and sickness, until the autumn of 1813. Her ecstasies in prayer, and her spiritual intercourse with the invisible world, became more and more frequent. She was about to be called to a state with which she was herself but imperfectly acquainted, and in order to enter which she did nothing but submissively abandon herself to the will of God. Our Lord was pleased about this time to imprint upon her virginal body the stigmas of his cross and of his crucifixion, which were to the Jews a stumbling-block, and to the Gentiles folly, and to many persons who call themselves Christians, both the one and the other. From her very earliest childhood she had besought our Lord to impress the marks of his cross deeply upon her heart, that so she might never forget his infinite love for men; but she had never thought of receiving any outward marks. Rejected by the world, she prayed more fervently than ever for this end. On the 28th of August, the feast of St. Augustine, the patron of her order, as she was making this prayer in bed, ravished in ecstasy and her arms stretched forth, she beheld a young man approach her surrounded with light. It was under this form that her Divine Spouse usually appeared to her, and he now made upon her body with his right hand the mark of a common cross. From this time there was a mark like a cross upon her bosom, consisting of two bands crossed, about three inches long and one wide. Later the skin often rose in blisters on this place, as if from a burn, and when these blisters burst a burning colourless liquid issued from them, sometimes in such quantities as to soak through several sheets. She was long without perceiving what the case really was, and only thought that she was in a strong perspiration. The particular meaning of this mark has never been known. Some weeks later, when making the same prayer, she fell into an ecstasy, and beheld the same apparition, which presented her with a little cross of the shape described in her accounts of the Passion. She eagerly received and fervently pressed it to her bosom, and then returned it. She said that this cross was as soft and white as wax, but she was not at first aware that it had made an external mark upon her bosom. A short time after, having gone with her landlady's little girl to visit an old hermitage near Dulmen, she all on a sudden fell into an ecstasy, fainted away, and on her recovery was taken home by a poor peasant woman. The sharp pain which she felt in her chest continued to increase, and she saw that there was what looked like a cross, about three inches in length, pressed tightly upon her breast-bone, and looking red through the skin. As she had spoken about her vision to a nun with whom she was intimate, her extraordinary state began to be a good deal talked of. On All Souls' day, 1812, she went out for the last time, and with much difficulty succeeded in reaching the church. From that time till the end of the year she seemed to be dying, and received the last Sacraments. At Christmas a smaller cross appeared on the top of that upon her chest. It was the same shape as the larger one, so that the two together formed a double forked cross. Blood flowed from this cross every Wednesday, so as to leave the impression of its shape on paper laid over it. After a time this happened on Fridays instead. In 1814 this flow of blood took place less frequently, but the cross became as red as fire every Friday. At a later period of her life more blood flowed from this cross, especially every Good Friday; but no attention was paid to it. On the 30th March 1821, the writer of these pages saw this cross of a deep red colour, and bleeding all over. In its usual state it was colourless, and its position only marked by slight cracks in the skin... Other Ecstaticas have received similar marks of the Cross; among others, Catherine of Raconis, Marina de l' Escobar, Emilia Bichieri, S. Juliani Falconieri, etc. She received the stigmas on the last days of the year 1812. On the 29th December, about three o'clock in the afternoon, she was lying on her bed in her little room, extremely ill, but in a state of ecstasy and with her arms extended, meditating on the sufferings of her Lord, and beseeching him to allow her to suffer with him. She said five Our Fathers in honour of the Five Wounds, and felt her whole heart burning with love. She then saw a light descending towards her, and distinguished in the midst of it the resplendent form of her crucified Saviour, whose wounds shone like so many furnaces of light. Her heart was overflowing with joy and sorrow, and, at the sight of the sacred wounds, her desire to suffer with her Lord became intensely violent. Then triple rays, pointed like arrows, of the colour of blood, darted forth from the hands, feet, and side of the sacred apparition, and struck her hands, feet, and right side. The triple rays from the side formed a point like the head of a lance. The moment these rays touched her, drops of blood flowed from the wounds which they made. Long did she remain in a state of insensibility, and when she recovered her senses she did not know who had lowered her outstretched arms. It was with astonishment that she beheld blood flowing from the palms of her hands, and felt violent pain in her feet and side. It happened that her landlady's little daughter came into her room, saw her hands bleeding, and ran to tell her mother, who with great anxiety asked Anne Catherine what had happened, but was begged by her not to speak about it. She felt, after having received the stigmas, that an entire change had taken place in her body; for the course of her blood seemed to have changed, and to flow rapidly towards the stigmas. She herself used to say: 'No words can describe in what manner it flows.' We are indebted to a curious incident for our knowledge of the circumstances which we have here related. On the 15th December 1819, she had a detailed vision of all that had happened to herself, but so that she thought it concerned some other nun who she imagined must be living not far off, and who she supposed had experienced the same things as herself. She related all these details with a very strong feeling of compassion, humbling herself, without knowing it, before her own patience and sufferings. It was most touching to hear her say: 'I ought never to complain anymore, now that I have seen the sufferings of that poor nun; her heart is surrounded with a crown of thorns, but she bears it placidly and with a smiling countenance. It is shameful indeed for me to complain, for she had a far heavier burden to bear than I have.' These visions, which she afterwards recognised to be her own history, were several times repeated, and it is from them that the circumstances under which she received the stigmas became known. Otherwise she would not have related so many particulars about what her humility never permitted her to speak of, and concerning which, when asked by her spiritual superiors whence her wounds proceeded, the utmost she said was: 'I hope that they come from the hand of God.' The limits of this work preclude us from entering upon the subject of stigmas in general, but we may observe that the Catholic Church has produced a certain number of persons, St. Francis of Assisi being the first, who have attained to that degree of contemplative love of Jesus which is the most sublime effect of union with his sufferings, and is designated by theologians, Vulnus divinum, Plago amoris viva. There are known to have been at least fifty. Veronica Giuliani, a Capuchiness, who died at Citta di Castello in 1727, is the last individual of the class who has been canonised (on the 26th May 1831). Her biography, published at Cologne in 1810, gives a description of the state of persons with stigmas, which in many ways is applicable to Anne Catherine. Colomba Schanolt, who died at Bamberg in 1787, Magdalen Lorger, who died at Hadamar in 1806, both Dominicanesses, and Rose Serra, a Capuchiness at Ozieri in Sardinia, who received the stigmas in 1801, are those of our own times of whom we know the most. Josephine Kumi, of the Convent of Wesen, near Lake Wallenstadt in Switzerland, who was still living in 1815, also belonged to this class of persons, but we are not entirely certain whether she had the stigmas. 3 Anne Catherine being, as we have said, no longer able to walk or rise from her bed, soon became unable also to eat. Before long she could take nothing but a little wine and water, and finally only pure water; sometimes, but very rarely, she managed to swallow the juice of a cherry or a plum, but she immediately vomited any solid food, taken in ever so small a quantity. This inability to take food, or rather this faculty of living for a great length of time upon nothing but water, we are assured by learned doctors is not quite unexampled in the history of the sick. Theologians will be perfectly aware that here are many instances of contemplative ascetics, and particularly of persons frequently in a state of ecstasy and who have received the stigmas, remaining long without taking any other food than the Blessed Sacrament; for instance, St. Nicholas of Flue, St. Liduvina of Schiedam, St. Catherine of Sienna, St. Angela of Foligno, and St. Louise de l'Ascension. All the phenomena exhibited in the person of Anne Catherine remained concealed even from those who had the most intercourse with her, until the 25th February 1812, when they were discovered accidentally by one of her old convent companions. By the end of March, the whole town talked of them. On the 23rd of March, the physician of the neighbourhood forced her to undergo an examination. Contrary to his expectation, he was convinced of the truth, drew up an official report of what he had seen, became her doctor and her friend, and remained such to her death. On the 28th of March, commissioners were appointed to examine into her case by the spiritual authorities of Munster. The consequence of this was that Anne Catherine was henceforth looked upon kindly by her superiors, and acquired the friendship of the late Dean Overberg, who from that time paid her every year a visit of several days' duration, and was her consoler and spiritual director. The medical counsellor from Druffel, who was present at this examination in the capacity of doctor, never ceased to venerate her. In 1814, he published in the Medical Journal of Salzbourg a detailed account of the phenomena which he had remarked in the person of Anne Catherine, and to this we refer those of our readers who desire more particulars upon the subject. On the 4th of April, M. Garnier, the Commissary-General of the French police, came from Munster to see her; he inquired minutely into her case, and having learned that she neither prophesied nor spoke on politics, declared that there was no occasion for the police to occupy themselves about her. In 1826, he still spoke of her at Paris with respect and emotion. On the 22nd of July 1813, Overberg came to see her, with Count de Stolberg and his family. They remained two days with her, and Stolberg, in a letter which has been several times printed, bore witness to the reality of the phenomena observed in Anne Catherine, and gave expression to his intense veneration for her. He remained her friend as long as he lived, and the members of his family never ceased recommending themselves to her prayers. On the 29th of September 1813, Overberg took the daughter of the Princess Galitzin (who died in 1806) to visit her, and they saw with their own eyes blood flow copiously from her stigmas. This distinguished lady repeated her visit, and, after becoming Princess of Salm, never varied in her sentiments, but, together with her family, remained in constant communion of prayer with Anne Catherine. Many other persons in all ranks of life were, in like manner, consoled and edified by visiting her bed of suffering. On the 23rd of October 1813, she was carried to another lodging, the window of which looked out upon a garden. The condition of the saintly nun became day by day more painful. Her stigmas were a source of indescribable suffering to her, down to the moment of her death. Instead of allowing her thoughts to dwell upon those graces to the interior presence of which they bore such miraculous outward testimony, she learned from them lessons of humility, by considering them as a heavy cross laid upon her for her sins. Her suffering body itself was to preach Jesus crucified. It was difficult indeed to be an enigma to all persons, an object of suspicion to the greatest number, and of respect mingled with fear to some few, without yielding to sentiments of impatience, irritability, or pride. Willingly would she have lived in entire seclusion from the world, but obedience soon compelled her to allow herself to be examined and to have judgment passed upon her by a vast number of curious persons. Suffering, as she was, the most excruciating pains, she was not even allowed to be her own mistress, but was regarded as something which everyone fancied he had a right to look at and to pass judgment upon,--often with no good results to anyone, but greatly to the prejudice of her soul and body, because she was thus deprived of so much rest and recollection of spirit. There seemed to be no bounds to what was expected of her, and one fat man, who had some difficulty in ascending her narrow winding staircase, was heard to complain that a person like Anne Catherine, who ought to be exposed on the public road, where everyone could see her, should remained in a lodging so difficult to reach. In former ages, persons in her state underwent in private the examination of the spiritual authorities, and carried out their painful vocation beneath the protecting shadow of hallowed walls; but our suffering heroine had been cast forth from the cloister into the world at a time when pride, coldness of heart, and incredulity were all the vogue; marked with the stigmas of the Passion of Christ, she was forced to wear her bloody robe in public, under the eyes of men who scarce believed in the Wounds of Christ, far less in those which were but their images. Thus this holy woman, who in her youth had been in the habit of praying for long hours before pictures of all the stages of Christ's painful Passion, or before wayside crosses, was herself made like unto a cross on the public road, insulted by one passer by, bathed in warm tears of repentance by a second, regarded as a mere physical curiosity by a third, and venerated by a fourth, whose innocent hands would bring flowers to lay at her feet. In 1817 her aged mother came from the country to die by her side. Anne Catherine showed her all the love she could by comforting and praying for her, and closing her eyes with her own hands--those hands marked with the stigmas on the 13th of March of the same year. The inheritance left to Anne Catherine by her mother was more than sufficient for one so imbued with the spirit of mortification and sufferings; and in her turn she left it unimpaired to her friends. It consisted of these three sayings:--'Lord, thy will, not mine, be done; ' 'Lord, give me patience, and then strike hard;' 'Those things which are not good to put in the pot are at least good to put beneath it.' The meaning of this last proverb was: If things are not fit to be eaten, they may at least be burned, in order that food may be cooked; this suffering does not nourish my heart, but by bearing it patiently, I may at least increase the fire of divine love, by which alone life can profit us anything. She often repeated these proverbs, and then thought of her mother with gratitude. Her father had died some little time before. The writer of these pages became acquainted with her state first through reading a copy of that letter of Stolberg, to which we have already alluded, and afterwards through conversation with a friend who had passed several weeks with her. In September 1818 he was invited by Bishop Sailer to meet him at the Count de Stolberg's, in Westphalia; and he went in the first place to Sondermuhlen to see the count, who introduced him to Overberg, from whom he received a letter addressed to Anne Catherine's doctor. He paid her his first visit on the 17th of September 1818; and she allowed him to pass several hours by her side each day, until the arrival of Sailer. From the very beginning, she gave him her confidence to a remarkable extent, and this in the most touching and ingenuous manner. No doubt she was conscious that by relating without reserve the history of all the trials, joys, and sorrows of her whole life, she was bestowing a most precious spiritual alms upon him. She treated him with the most generous hospitality, and had no hesitation in doing so, because he did not oppress her and alarm her humility by excessive admiration. She laid open her interior to him in the same charitable spirit as a pious solitary would in the morning offer the flowers and fruit which had grown in his garden during the night to some way-worn traveller, who, having lost his road in the desert of the world, finds him sitting near his hermitage. Wholly devoted to her God, she spoke in this open manner as a child would have done, unsuspectingly, with no feelings of mistrust, and with no selfish end in view. May God reward her! Her friend daily wrote down all the observations that he made concerning her, and all that she told him about her life, whether interior or exterior. Her words were characterised alternately by the most childlike simplicity and the most astonishing depth of thought, and they foreshadowed, as it were, the vast and sublime spectacle which later was unfolded, when it became evident that the past, the present, and the future, together with all that pertained to the sanctification, profanation, and judgment of souls, formed before and within her an allegorical and historical drama, for which the different events of the ecclesiastical year furnished subjects, and which it divided into scenes, so closely linked together were all the prayers and sufferings which she offered in sacrifice for the Church militant. On the 22nd of October 1818 Sailer came to see her, and having remarked that she was lodging at the back of a public house, and that men were playing at nine-pins under her window, said in the playful yet thoughtful manner which was peculiar to him: 'See, see; all things are as they should be--the invalid nun, the spouse of our Lord, is lodging in a publichouse above the ground where men are playing at nine-pins, like the soul of man in his body.' His interview with Anne Catherine was most affecting; it was indeed beautiful to behold these two souls, who were both on fire with the love of Jesus, and conducted by grace through such different paths, meet thus at the foot of the Cross, the visible stamp of which was borne by one of them. On Friday, the 23rd of October, Sailer remained alone with her during nearly the whole of the day; he saw blood flow from her head, her hands, and her feet, and he was able to bestow upon her great consolation in her interior trials. He most earnestly recommended her to tell everything without reserve to the writer of these pages, and he came to an understanding upon the subject with her ordinary director. He heard her confession, gave her the Holy Communion on Saturday, the 24th, and then continued his journey to the Count de Stolberg's. On his return, at the beginning of November, he again passed a day with her. He remained her friend until death, prayed constantly for her, and asked her prayers whenever he found himself in trying of difficult positions. The writer of these pages remained until January. He returned in May 1819, and continued to watch Anne Catherine almost uninterruptedly until her death. The saintly maiden continually besought the Almighty to remove the exterior stigmas, on account of the trouble and fatigue which they occasioned, and her prayer was granted at the end of seven years. Towards the conclusion of the year 1819, the blood first flowed less frequently from her wounds, and then ceased altogether. On the 25th of December, scabs fell from her feet and hands, and there only remained white scars, which became red on certain days, but the pain she suffered was undiminished in the slightest degree. The mark of the cross, and the wound on her right side, were often to be seen as before, but not at any stated times. On certain days she always had the most painful sensations around her head, as though a crown of thorns were being pressed upon it. On these occasions she could not lean her head against anything, nor even rest it on her hand, but had to remain for long hours, sometimes even for whole nights, sitting up in her bed, supported by cushions, whilst her pallid face, and the irrepressible groans of pain which escaped her, made her like an awful living representation of suffering. After she had been in this state, blood invariably flowed more or less copiously from around her head. Sometimes her head-dress only was soaked with it, but sometimes the blood would flow down her face and neck. On Good Friday, April 19th, 1819, all her wounds re-opened and bled, and closed again on the following days. A most rigorous inquiry into her state was made by some doctors and naturalists. For that end she was placed alone in a strange house, where she remained from the 7th to the 29th of August; but this examination appears to have produced no particular effects in any way. She was brought back to her own dwelling on the 29th of August, and from that time until she died she was left in peace, save that she was occasionally annoyed by private disputes and public insults. On this subject Overberg wrote her the following words: 'What have you had to suffer personally of which you can complain? I am addressing a soul desirous of nothing so much as to become more and more like to her divine Spouse. Have you not been treated far more gently than was your adorable Spouse? Should it not be a subject of rejoicing to you, according to the spirit, to have been assisted to resemble him more closely, and thus to be more pleasing in his eyes? You had suffered much with Jesus, but hitherto insults had been for the most part spared you. With the crown of thorns you had not worn the purple mantle and the robe of scorn, much less had you yet heard, Away with him! Crucify him! Crucify him! I cannot doubt but that these sentiments are yours. Praise be to Jesus Christ.' On Good Friday, the 30th of March 1820, blood flowed from her head, feet, hands, chest, and side. It happened that when she fainted, one of the persons who were with her, knowing that the application of relics relieved her, placed near her feet a piece of linen in which some were wrapped, and the blood which came from her wounds reached this piece of linen after a time. In the evening, when this same piece of linen with the relics was being placed on her chest and shoulders, in which she was suffering much, she suddenly exclaimed, while in a state of ecstasy: 'It is most wonderful, but I see my Heavenly spouse lying in the tomb in the earthly Jerusalem; and I also see him living in the heavenly Jerusalem surrounded by adoring saints, and in the midst of these saints I see a person who is not a saint--a nun. Blood flows from her head, her side, her hands, and her feet, and the saints are above the bleeding parts.' On the 9th February 1821 she fell into an ecstasy at the time of the funeral of a very holy priest. Blood flowed from her forehead, and the cross on her breast bled also. Someone asked her, 'What is the matter with you?' She smiled, and spoke like one awakening from a dream: 'We were by the side of the body. I have been accustomed lately to hear sacred music, and the De Profundis made a great impression upon me.' She died upon the same day three years later. In 1821, a few weeks before Easter, she told us that it had been said to her during her prayer: 'Take notice, you will suffer on the real anniversary of the Passion, and not on the day marked this year in the Ecclesiastical Calendar.' On Friday, the 30th of March, at ten o'clock in the morning, she sank down senseless. Her face and bosom were bathed in blood, and her body appeared covered with bruises like what the blows of a whip would have inflicted. At twelve o'clock in the day, she stretched herself out in the form of a cross, and her arms were so extended as to be perfectly dislocated. A few minutes before two o'clock, drops of blood flowed from her feet and hands. On Good Friday, the 20th of April, she was simply in a state of quiet contemplation. This remarkable exception to the general rule seemed to be an effect of the providence of God, for, at the hour when her wounds usually bled, a number of curious and ill-natured individuals came to see her with the intention of causing her fresh annoyances, by publishing what they saw; but they thus were made unintentionally to contribute to her peace, by saying that her wounds had ceased to bleed. On the 19th of February 1822 she was again warned that she would suffer on the last Friday of March, and not on Good Friday. On Friday the 15th, and again on Friday the 29th, the cross on her bosom and the wound of her side bled. Before the 29th, she more than once felt as though a stream of fire were flowing rapidly from her heart to her side, and down her arms and legs to the stigmas, which looked red and inflamed. On the evening of Thursday the 28th, she fell into a state of contemplation on the Passion, and remained in it until Friday evening. Her chest, head, and side bled; all the veins of her hands were swollen, and there was a painful spot in the centre of them, which felt damp, although blood did not flow from it. No blood flowed from the stigmas excepting upon the 3rd of March, the day of the finding of the holy Cross. She had also a vision of the discovery of the true cross by St. Helena, and imagined herself to be lying in the excavation near the cross. Much blood came in the morning from her head and side, and in the afternoon from her hands and feet, and it seemed to her as though she were being made the test of whether the cross was really the Cross of Jesus Christ, and that her blood was testifying to its identity. In the year 1823, on Holy Thursday and Good Friday, which came on the 27th and 28th of March, she had visions of the Passion, during which blood flowed from all her wounds, causing her intense pain. Amid these awful sufferings, although ravished in spirit, she was obliged to speak and give answers concerning all her little household affairs, as if she had been perfectly strong and well, and she never let fall a complaint, although nearly dying. This was the last time that her blood gave testimony to the reality of her union with the sufferings of him who has delivered himself up wholly and entirely for our salvation. Most of the phenomena of the ecstatic life which are shown us in the lives and writings of Saints Bridget, Gertrude, Mechtilde, Hildegarde, Catherine of Sienna, Catherine of Genoa, Catherine of Bologna, Colomba da Rieti, Lidwina of Schiedam, Catherine Vanini, Teresa of Jesus, Anne of St. Bartholomew, Magdalen of Pazzi, Mary Villana, Mary Buonomi, Marina d' Escobar, Crescentia de Kaufbeuern, and many other nuns of contemplative orders, are also to be found in the history of the interior life of Anne Catherine Emmerich. The same path was marked out for her by God. Did she, like these holy women, attain the end? God alone knows. Our part is only to pray that such may have been the case, and we are allowed to hope it. Those among our readers who are not acquainted with the ecstatic life from the writings of those who have lived it, will find information on this subject in the Introduction of Goerres to the writings of Henry Suso, published at Ratisbonne in 1829. Since many pious Christians, in order to render their life one perpetual act of adoration, endeavour to see in their daily employments a symbolical representation of some manner of honouring God, and offer it to him in union with the merits of Christ, it cannot appear extraordinary that those holy souls who pass from an active life to one of suffering and contemplation, should sometimes see their spiritual labours under the form of those earthly occupations which formerly filled their days. Then their acts were prayers; now their prayers are acts; but the form remains the same. It was thus that Anne Catherine, in her ecstatic life, beheld the series of her prayers for the Church under the forms of parables bearing reference to agriculture, gardening, weaving, sowing, or the care of sheep. All these different occupations were arranged, according to their signification, in the different periods of the common as well as the ecclesiastical year, and were pursued under the patronage and with the assistance of the saints of each day, the special graces of the corresponding feasts of the Church being also applied to them. The signification of this circles of symbols had reference to all the active part of her interior life. One example will help to explain our meaning. When Anne Catherine, while yet a child, was employed in weeding, she besought God to root up the cockle from the field of the Church. If her hands were stung by the nettles, or if she was obliged to do afresh the work of idlers, she offered to God her pain and her fatigue, and besought him, in the name of Jesus Christ, that the pastor of souls might not become weary, and that none of them might cease to labour zealously and diligently. Thus her manual labour became a prayer. I will now give a corresponding example of her life of contemplation and ecstasy. She had been ill several times, and in a state of almost continual ecstasy, during which she often moaned, and moved her hands like a person employed in weeding. She complained one morning that her hands and arms smarted and itched, and on examination they were found to be covered with blisters, like what would have been produced by the stinging of nettles. She then begged several persons of her acquaintance to join their prayers to hers for a certain intention. The next day her hands were inflamed and painful, as they would have been after hard work; and when asked the cause, she replied: 'Ah! I have so many nettles to root up in the vineyard, because those whose duty it was to do it only pulled off the stems, and I was obliged to draw the roots with much difficulty out of a stony soil.' The person who had asked her the question began to blame these careless workmen, but he felt much confused when she replied: 'You were one of them,--those who only pull off the stems of the nettles, and leave the roots in the earth, are persons who pray carelessly.' It was afterwards discovered that she had been praying for several dioceses which were shown to her under the figure of vineyards laid waste, and in which labour was needed. The real inflammation of her hands bore testimony to this symbolical rooting up of the nettles; and we have, perhaps, reason to hope that the churches shown to her under the appearances of vineyards experienced the good effects of her prayer and spiritual labour; for since the door is opened to those who knock, it must certainly be opened above all to those who knock with such energy as to cause their fingers to be wounded. Similar reactions of the spirit upon the body are often found in the lives of persons subject to ecstasies, and are by no means contrary to faith. St. Paula, if we may believe St. Jerome, visited the holy places in spirit just as if she had visited them bodily; and a like thing happened to St. Colomba of Rieti and St. Lidwina of Schiedam. The body of the latter bore tracks of this spiritual journey, as if she had really travelled; she experienced all the fatigue that a painful journey would cause: her feet were wounded and covered with marks which looked as if they had been made by stones or thorns, and finally she had a sprain from which she long suffered. She was led on this journey by her guardian angel, who told her that these corporeal wounds signified that she had been ravished in body and spirit. Similar hurts were also to be seen upon the body of Anne Catherine immediately after some of her visions. Lidwina began her ecstatic journey by following her good angel to the chapel of the Blessed Virgin before Schiedam; Anne Catherine began hers by following her angel guardian either to the chapel which was near her dwelling, or else to the Way of the Cross of Coesfeld. Her journeys to the Holy Land were made, according to the accounts she gave of them, by the most opposite roads; sometimes even she went all round the earth, when the task spiritually imposed upon her required it. In the course of these journeys from her home to the most distant countries, she carried assistance to many persons, exercising in their regard works of mercy, both corporal and spiritual, and this was done frequently in parables. At the end of a year she would go over the same ground again, see the same persons, and give an account of their spiritual progress or of their relapse into sin. Every part of this labour always bore some reference to the Church, and to the kingdom of God upon earth. The end of these daily pilgrimages which she made in spirit was invariably the Promised Land, every part of which she examined in detail, and which she saw sometimes in its present state, and sometimes as it was at different periods of sacred history; for her distinguishing characteristic and special privilege was an intuitive knowledge of the history of the Old and New Testaments, and of that of the members of the Holy Family, and of all the saints whom she was contemplating in spirit. She saw the signification of all the festival days of the ecclesiastical year under both a devotional and a historical point of view. She saw and described, day by day, with the minutest detail, and by name, places, persons, festivals, customs, and miracles, all that happened during the public life of Jesus until the Ascension, and the history of the Apostles for several weeks after the Descent of the Holy Ghost. She regarded al her visions not as mere spiritual enjoyments, but as being, so to speak, fertile fields, plentifully strewn with the merits of Christ, and which had not as yet been cultivated; she was often engaged in spirit in praying that the fruit of such and such sufferings of our Lord might be given to the Church, and she would beseech God to apply to his Church the merits of our Saviour which were its inheritance, and of which she would, as it were, take possession, in its name, with the most touching simplicity and ingenuousness. She never considered her visions to have any reference to her exterior Christian life, nor did she regard them as being of any historical value. Exteriorly she knew and believed nothing but the catechism, the common history of the Bible, the gospels for Sundays and festivals, and the Christian almanac, which to her far-sighted vision was an inexhaustible mine of hidden riches, since it gave her in a few pages a guiding thread which led her through all time, and by means of which she passed from mystery to mystery, and solemnised each with all the saints, in order to reap the fruits of eternity in time, and to preserve and distribute them in her pilgrimage around the ecclesiastical year, that so the will of God might be accomplished on earth as it is in Heaven. She had never read the Old or the New Testaments, and when she was tired of relating her visions, she would sometimes say: 'Read that in the Bible,' and then be astonished to learn that it was not there; 'for,' she would add, 'people are constantly saying in these days that you need read nothing but the Bible, which contains everything, etc., etc.' The real task of her life was to suffer for the Church and for some of its members, whose distress was shown her in spirit, or who asked her prayers without knowing that this poor sick nun had something more to do for them than to say the Pater noster, but that all their spiritual and corporal sufferings became her own, and that she had to endure patiently the most terrible pains, without being assisted, like the contemplatives of former days, by the sympathising prayers of an entire community. In the age when she lived, she had no other assistance than that of medicine. While thus enduring sufferings which she had taken upon herself for others, she often turned her thoughts to the corresponding sufferings of the Church, and when thus suffering for one single person, she would likewise offer all she endured for the whole Church. The following is a remarkable instance of the sort: During several weeks she had every symptom of consumption; violent irritation of the lungs, excessive perspiration, which soaked her whole bed, a racking cough, continual expectoration, and a strong continual fever. So fearful were her sufferings that her death was hourly expected and even desired. It was remarked that she had to struggle strangely against a strong temptation to irritability. Did she yield for an instant, she burst into tears, her sufferings increased tenfold, and she seemed unable to exist unless she immediately gained pardon in the sacrament of penance. She had also to combat a feeling of aversion to a certain person whom she had not seen for years. She was in despair because this person, with whom nevertheless she declared she had nothing in common, was always before her eyes in the most evil dispositions, and she wept bitterly, and with much anxiety of conscience, saying that she would not commit sin, that her grief must be evident to all, and other things which were quite unintelligible to the persons listening to her. Her illness continued to increase, and she was thought to be on the point of death. At this moment one of her friends saw her, to his great surprise, suddenly raise herself up on her bed, and say: 'Repeat with me the prayers for those in their last agony.' He did as requested, and she answered the Litany in a firm voice. After some little time, the bell for the agonising was heard, and a person came in to ask Anne Catherine's prayers for his sister, who was just dead. Anne Catherine asked for details concerning her illness and death, as if deeply interested in the subject, and the friend above-mentioned heard the account given by the new comer of a consumption resembling in the minutest particulars the illness of Anne Catherine herself. The deceased woman had at first been in so much pain and so disturbed in mind that she had seemed quite unable to prepare herself for death; but during the last fortnight she had been better, had made her peace with God, having in the first place been reconciled to a person with whom she was at enmity, and had died in peace, fortified by the last sacraments, and attended by her former enemy. Anne Catherine gave a small sum of money for the burial and funeral-service of this person. Her sweatings, cough, and fever now left her, and she resembled a person exhausted with fatigue, whose linen has been changed, and who has been placed on a fresh bed. Her friend said to her, 'When this fearful illness came upon you, this woman grew better, and her hatred for another was the only obstacle to her making peace with God. You took upon yourself, for the time, her feelings of hatred, she died in good dispositions, and now you seem tolerably well again. Are you still suffering on her account?' 'No, indeed!' she replied; 'that would be most unreasonable; but how can any person avoid suffering when even the end of this little finger is in pain? We are all one body in Christ.' 'By the goodness of God,' said her friend, 'you are now once more somewhat at ease.' 'Not for very long, though,' she replied with a smile; 'there are other persons who want my assistance.' Then she turned round on her bed, and rested awhile. A very few days later, she began to feel intense pain in all her limbs, and symptoms of water on the chest manifested themselves. We discovered the sick person for whom Anne Catherine was suffering, and we saw that his sufferings suddenly diminished or immensely increased in exact inverse proportion to those of Anne Catherine. Thus did charity compel her to take upon herself the illnesses and even the temptations of others, that they might be able in peace to prepare themselves for death. She was compelled to suffer in silence, both to conceal the weaknesses of her neighbour, and not to be regarded as mad herself; she was obliged to receive all the aid that medicine could afford her for an illness thus taken voluntarily for the relief of others, and to be reproached for temptations which were not her own; finally, it was necessary that she should appear perverted in the eyes of men; that so those for whom she was suffering might be converted before God. One day a friend in deep affliction was sitting by her bedside, when she suddenly fell into a state of ecstasy, and began to pray aloud: 'O, my sweet Jesus, permit me to carry that heavy stone!' Her friend asked her what was the matter. 'I am on my way to Jerusalem,' she replied, 'and I see a poor man walking along with the greatest difficulty, for there is a large stone upon his breast, the weight of which nearly crushes him.' Then again, after a few moments, she exclaimed: 'Give me that heavy stone, you cannot carry it any farther; give it to me.' All on a sudden she sank down fainting, as if crushed beneath some heavy burden, and at the same moment her friend felt himself relieved from the weight of sorrow which oppressed him, and his heart overflowing with extraordinary happiness. Seeing her in such a state of suffering, he asked her what the matter was, and she looking at him with a smile, replied: 'I cannot remain here any longer. Poor man, you must take back your burden.' Instantly her friend felt all the weight of his affliction return to him, whilst she, becoming as well again as before, continued her journey in spirit to Jerusalem. We will give one more example of her spiritual exertions. One morning she gave her friend a little bag containing some rye-flour and eggs, and pointed out to him a small house where a poor woman, who was in a consumption, was living with her husband and two little children. He was to tell her to boil and take them, as when boiled they would be good for her chest. The friend, on entering the cottage, took the bag from under his cloak, when the poor mother, who, flushed with fever, was lying on a mattress between her half-naked children fixed her eyes bright upon him, and holding out her thin hands, exclaimed: 'O, sir, it must be God or Sister Emmerich who sends you to me! You are bringing me some ryeflour and eggs.' Here the poor woman, overcome by her feelings, burst into tears, and then began to cough so violently that she had to make a sign to her husband to speak for her. He said that the previous night Gertrude had been much disturbed, and had talked a great deal in her sleep, and that on awaking she had told him her dream in these words: 'I thought that I was standing at the door with you, when the holy nun came out of the door of the next house, and I told you to look at her. She stopped in front of us, and said to me: "Ah, Gertrude, you look very ill; I will send you some rye-flour and eggs, which will relieve your chest." Then I awoke.' Such was the simple tale of the poor man; he and his wife both eagerly expressed their gratitude, and the bearer of Anne Catherine's alms left the house much overcome. He did not tell her anything of this when he saw her, but a few days after, she sent him again to the same place with a similar present, and he then asked her how it was she knew that poor woman? 'You know,' she replied, 'that I pray every evening for all those who suffer; I should like to go and relieve them, and I generally dream that I am going from one abode of suffering to another, and that I assist them to the best of my power. In this way I went in my dream to that poor woman's house; she was standing at the door with her husband, and I said to her: "Ah, Gertrude, you look very ill; I will send you some rye-flour and eggs, which will relieve your chest." And this I did through you, the next morning.' Both persons had remained in their beds, and dreamed the same thing, and the dream came true. St. Augustine, in his City of God, book 18, c. 18, relates a similar thing of two philosophers, who visited each other in a dream, and explained some passages of Plato, both remaining asleep in their own houses. These sufferings, and this peculiar species of active labour, were like a single ray of light, which enlightened her whole life. Infinite was the number of spiritual labours and sympathetic sufferings which came from all parts and entered into her heart--that heart so burning with love of Jesus Christ. Like St. Catherine of Sienna and some other ecstatics, she often felt the most profound feeling of conviction that our Saviour had taken her heart out of her bosom, and placed his own there instead for a time. The following fragment will give some idea of the mysterious symbolism by which she was interiorly directed. During a portion of the year 1820 she performed many labours in spirit, for several different parishes; her prayers being represented under the figure of most severe labour in a vineyard. What we have above related concerning the nettles is of the same character. On the 6th of September her heavenly guide said to her: ' "You weeded, dug around, tied, and pruned the vine; you ground down the weeds so that they could never spring up anymore; and then you went away joyfully and rested from your prayers. Prepare now to labour hard from the feast of the Nativity of the Blessed Virgin to that of St. Michael; the grapes are ripening and must be well watched." Then he led me,' she continued, 'to the vineyard of St. Liboire, and showed me the vines at which I had worked. My labour had been successful, for the grapes were getting their colour and growing large, and in some parts the red juice was running down on the ground from them. My guide said to me: "When the virtues of the good begin to shine forth in public, they have to combat bravely, to be oppressed, to be tempted, and to suffer persecution. A hedge must be planted around the vineyard in order that the ripe grapes may not be destroyed by thieves and wild beasts, i.e. by temptation and persecution." He then showed me how to build a wall by heaping up stones, and to raise a thick hedge of thorns all around. As my hands bled from such severe labour, God, in order to give me strength, permitted me to see the mysterious signification of the vine, and of several other fruit trees. Jesus Christ is the true Vine, who is to take root and grow in us; all useless wood must be cut away, in order not to waste the sap, which is to become the wine, and in the Most Blessed Sacrament the Blood of Christ. The pruning of the vine has to be done according to certain rules which were made known to me. This pruning is, in a spiritual sense, the cutting off whatever is useless, penance and mortification, that so the true Vine may grow in us, and bring forth fruit, in the place of corrupt nature, which only bears wood and leaves. The pruning is done according to fixed rules, for it is only required that certain useless shoots should be cut off in man, and to lop off more would be to mutilate in a guilty manner. No pruning should ever be done upon the stock which has been planted in humankind through the Blessed Virgin, and is to remain in it for ever. The true Vine unites heaven to earth, the Divinity to humanity; and it is the human part that is to be pruned, that so the divine alone may grow. I saw so many other things relating to the vine that a book as large as the Bible could not contain them. One day, when I was suffering acute pain in my chest, I besought our Lord with groans not to give me a burthen above my strength to bear; and then my Heavenly Spouse appeared, and said to me, ... "I have laid thee on my nuptial couch, which is a couch of suffering; I have given thee suffering and expiation for thy bridal garments and jewels. Thou must suffer, but I will not forsake thee; thou art fastened to the Vine, and thou wilt not be lost." Then I was consoled for all my sufferings. It was likewise explained to me why in my visions relating to the feasts of the family of Jesus, such, for instance, as those of St. Anne, St. Joachim, St. Joseph, etc., I always saw the Church of the festival under the figure of a shoot of the vine. The same was the case on the festivals of St. Francis of Assisi, St. Catherine of Sienna, and of all the saints who have had the stigmas. 'The signification of my sufferings in all my limbs was explained to me in the following vision: I saw a gigantic human body in a horrible state of mutilation, and raised upwards towards the sky. There were no fingers or toes on the hands and feet, the body was covered with frightful wounds, some of which were fresh and bleeding, others covered with dead flesh or turned into excrescences. The whole of one side was black, gangrened, and as it were half eaten away. I suffered as though it had been my own body that was in this state, and then my guide said to me "This is the body of the Church, the body of all men and thine also." Then, pointing to each wound, he showed me at the same time some part of the world; I saw an infinite number of men and nations separated from the Church, all in their own peculiar way, and I felt pain as exquisite from this separation as if they had been torn from my body. Then my guide said to me: "Let thy sufferings teach thee a lesson, and offer them to God in union with those of Jesus for all who are separated. Should not one member call upon another, and suffer in order to cure and unite it once more to the body? When those parts which are most closely united to the body detach themselves, it is as though the flesh were torn from around the heart." In my ignorance, I thought that he was speaking of those brethren who are not in communion with us, but my guide added: "Who are our brethren? It is not our blood relations who are the nearest to our hearts, but those who are our brethren in the blood of Christ--the children of the Church who fall away." He showed me that the black and gangrened side of the body would soon be cured; that the putrefied flesh which had collected around the wounds represented heretics who divide one from the other in proportion as they increase; that the dead flesh was the figure of all who are spiritually dead, and who are void of any feeling; and that the ossified parts represented obstinate and hardened heretics. I saw and felt in this manner every wound and its signification. The body reached up to heaven. It was the body of the Bride of Christ, and most painful to behold. I wept bitterly, but feeling at once deeply grieved and strengthened by sorrow and compassion, I began again to labour with all my strength.' Sinking beneath the weight of life and of the task imposed upon her she often besought God to deliver her, and she then would appear to be on the very brink of the grave. But each time she would say: 'Lord, not my will but thine be done! If my prayers and sufferings are useful let me live a thousand years, but grant that I may die rather than ever offend thee.' Then she would receive orders to live, and arise, taking up her cross, once more to bear it in patience and suffering after her Lord. From time to time the road of life which she was pursuing used to be shown to her, leading to the top of a mountain on which was a shining and resplendent city--the heavenly Jerusalem. Often she would think she had arrived at that blissful abode, which seemed to be quite near her, and her joy would be great. But all on a sudden she would discover that she was still separated from it by a valley and then she would have to descend precipices and follow indirect paths, labouring, suffering, and performing deeds of charity everywhere. She had to direct wanderers into the right road, raise up the fallen, sometimes even carry the paralytic, and drag the unwilling by force, and all these deeds of charity were as so many fresh weights fastened to her cross. Then she walked with more difficulty, bending beneath her burden and sometimes even falling to the ground. In 1823 she repeated more frequently than usual that she could not perform her task in her present situation, that she had not strength for it, and that it was in a peaceful convent that she needed to have lived and died. She added that God would soon take her to himself, and that she had besought him to permit her to obtain by her prayers in the next world what her weakness would not permit her to accomplish in this. St. Catherine of Sienna, a short time before death, made a similar prayer. Anne Catherine had previously had a vision concerning what her prayers might obtain after death, with regard to things that were not in existence during her life. The year 1823, the last of which she completed the whole circle, brought her immense labours. She appeared desirous to accomplish her entire task, and thus kept the promise which she had previously made of relating the history of the whole Passion. It formed the subject of her Lenten meditations during this year, and of them the present volume is composed. But she did not on this account take less part in the fundamental mystery of this penitential season, or in the different mysteries of each of the festival days of the Church, if indeed the words to take part be sufficient to express the wonderful manner in which she rendered visible testimony to the mystery celebrated in each festival by a sudden change in her corporal and spiritual life. See on this subject the chapter entitled Interruption of the Pictures of the Passion. Everyone of the ceremonies and festivals of the Church was to her far more than the consecration of a remembrance. She beheld in the historical foundation of each solemnity an act of the Almighty, done in time for the reparation of fallen humanity. Although these divine acts appeared to her stamped with the character of eternity, yet she was well aware that in order for man to profit by them in the bounded and narrow sphere of time, he must, as it were, take possession of them in a series of successive moments, and that for this purpose they had to be repeated and renewed in the Church, in the order established by Jesus Christ and the Holy Spirit. All festivals and solemnities were in her eyes eternal graces which returned at fixed epochs in every ecclesiastical year, in the same manner as the fruits and harvests of the earth come in their seasons in the natural year. Her zeal and gratitude in receiving and treasuring up these graces were untiring, nor was she less eager and zealous in offering them to those who neglected their value. In the same manner as her compassion for her crucified Saviour had pleased God and obtained for her the privilege of being marked with the stigmas of the Passion as with a seal of the most perfect love, so all the sufferings of the Church and of those who were in affliction were repeated in the different states of her body and soul. And all these wonders took place within her, unknown to those who were around her; nor was she herself even more fully conscious of them than is the bee of the effects of its work, while yet she was tending and cultivating, with all the care of an industrious and faithful gardener, the fertile garden of the ecclesiastical year. She lived on its fruits, and distributed them to others; she strengthened herself and her friends with the flowers and herbs which she cultivated; or, rather, she herself was in this garden like a sensitive plant, a sunflower, or some wonderful plant in which, independent of her own will, were reproduced all the seasons of the year, all the hours of the day, and all the changes of the atmosphere. At the end of the ecclesiastical year of 1823, she had for the last time a vision on the subject of making up the accounts of that year. The negligences of the Church militant and of her servants were shown to Anne Catherine, under various symbols; she saw how many graces had not been cooperated with, or been rejected to a greater or less extent, and how many had been entirely thrown away. It was made known to her how our Blessed Redeemer had deposited for each year in the garden of the Church a complete treasure of his merits, sufficient for every requirement, and for the expiation of every sin. The strictest account was to be given of all graces which had been neglected, wasted, or wholly rejected, and the Church militant was punished for this negligence of infidelity of her servants by being oppressed by her enemies, or by temporal humiliations. Revelations of this description raised to excess her love for the Church, her mother. She passed days and nights in praying for her, in offering to God the merits of Christ, with continual groans, and in imploring mercy. Finally, on these occasions, she gathered together all her courage, and offered to take upon herself both the fault and the punishment, like a child presenting itself before the king's throne, in order to suffer the punishment she had incurred. It was then said to her, 'See how wretched and miserable thou art thyself; thou who art desirous to satisfy for the sins of others.' And to her great terror she beheld herself as one mournful mass of infinite imperfection. But still her love remained undaunted, and burst forth in these words, 'Yes, I am full of misery and sin; but I am thy spouse, O my Lord, and my Saviour! My faith in thee and in the redemption which thou hast brought us covers all my sins as with thy royal mantle. I will not leave thee until thou hast accepted my sacrifice, for the superabundant treasure of thy merits is closed to none of thy faithful servants.' At length her prayer became wonderfully energetic, and to human ears there was like a dispute and combat with God, in which she was carried away and urged on by the violence of love. If her sacrifice was accepted, her energy seemed to abandon her, and she was left to the repugnance of human nature for suffering. When she had gone through this trial, by keeping her eyes fixed on her Redeemer in the Garden of Olives, she next had to endure indescribable sufferings of every description, bearing them all with wonderful patience and sweetness. We used to see her remain several days together, motionless and insensible, looking like a dying lamb. Did we ask her how she was, she would half open her eyes, and reply with a sweet smile, 'My sufferings are most salutary.' At the beginning of Advent, her sufferings were a little soothed by sweet visions of the preparations made by the Blessed Virgin to leave her home, and then of her whole journey with St. Joseph to Bethlehem. She accompanied them each day to the humble inns where they rested for the night, or went on before them to prepare their lodgings. During this time she used to take old pieces of linen, and at night, while sleeping, make them into baby clothes and caps for the children of poor women, the times of whose confinements were near at hand. The next day she would be surprised to see all these things neatly arranged in her drawers. This happened to her every year about the same time, but this year she had more fatigue and less consolation. Thus, at the hour of our Saviour's birth, when she was usually perfectly overwhelmed with joy, she could only crawl with the greatest difficulty to the crib where the Child Jesus was lying, and bring him no present but myrrh, no offering but her cross, beneath the weight of which she sank down half dying at his feet. It seemed as though she were for the last time making up her earthly accounts with God, and for the last time also offering herself in the place of a countless number of men who were spiritually and corporally afflicted. Even the little that is known of the manner in which she took upon herself the sufferings of others is almost incomprehensible. She very truly said: 'This year the Child Jesus has only brought me a cross and instruments of suffering.' She became each day more and more absorbed in her sufferings, and although she continued to see Jesus travelling from city to city during his public life, the utmost she ever said on the subject was, briefly to name in which direction he was going. Once, she asked suddenly in a scarcely audible voice, 'What day is it?' When told that it was the 14th of January, she added: 'Had I but a few days more, I should have related the entire life of our Saviour, but now it is no longer possible for me to do so.' These words were the more incomprehensible as she did not appear to know even which year of the public life of Jesus she was then contemplating in spirit. In 1820 she had related the history of our Saviour down to the Ascension, beginning at the 28th of July of the third year of the public life of Jesus, and had continued down to the 10th of January of the third year of his public life. On the 27th of April 1823, in consequence of a journey made by the writer, an interruption of her narrative took place, and lasted down to the 21st of October. She then took up the tread of her narrative where she had left it, and continued it to the last weeks of her life. When she spoke of a few days being wanted her friend himself did not know how far her narrative went, not having had leisure to arrange what he had written. After her death he became convinced that if she had been able to speak during the last fourteen days of her life, she would have brought it down to the 28th of July of the third year of the public life of our Lord, consequently to where she had taken it up in 1820.4 Her condition daily became more frightful. She, who usually suffered in silence, uttered stifled groans, so awful was the anguish she endured. On the 15th of January she said: 'The Child Jesus brought me great sufferings at Christmas. I was once more by his manger at Bethlehem. He was burning with fever, and showed me his sufferings and those of his mother. They were so poor that they had no food but a wretched piece of bread. He bestowed still greatest sufferings upon me, and said to me: "Thou art mine; thou art my spouse; suffer as I suffered, without asking the reason why." I do not know what my sufferings are to be, nor how long they will last. I submit blindly to my martyrdom, whether for life or for death: I only desire that the hidden designs of God may be accomplished in me. On the other hand, I am calm, and I have consolations in my sufferings. Even this morning I was very happy. Blessed be the Name of God!' Her sufferings continued, if possible, to increase. Sitting up, and with her eyes closed, she fell from one side to another, while smothered groans escaped her lips. If she laid down, she was in danger of being stifled; her breathing was hurried and oppressed, and all her nerves and muscles were shaken and trembled with anguish. After violent retching, she suffered terrible pain in her bowels, so much so that it was feared gangrene must be forming there. Her throat was parched and burning, her mouth swollen, her cheeks crimson with fever, her hands white as ivory. The scars of the stigmas shone like silver beneath her distended skin. Her pulse gave from 160 to 180 pulsations per minute. Although unable to speak from her excessive suffering, she bore every duty perfectly in mind. On the evening of the 26th, she said to her friend, 'Today is the ninth day, you must pay for the wax taper and novena at the chapel of St. Anne.' She was alluding to a novena which she had asked to have made for her intention, and she was afraid lest her friends should forget it. On the 27th, at two o'clock in the afternoon, she received Extreme Unction, greatly to the relief both of her soul and body. In the evening her friend, the excellent Cure of H___, prayed at her bedside, which was an immense comfort to her. She said to him: 'How good and beautiful all this is!' And again: 'May God be a thousand times praised and thanked!' The approach of death did not wholly interrupt the wonderful union of her life with that of the Church. A friend having visited her on the 1st of February in the evening, had placed himself behind her bed where she could not see him, and was listening with the utmost compassion to her low moans and interrupted breathing, when suddenly all became silent, and he thought that she was dead. At this moment the evening bell ringing for the matins of the Purification was heard. It was the opening of this festival which had caused her soul to be ravished in ecstasy. Although still in a very alarming state, she let some sweet and loving words concerning the Blessed Virgin escape her lips during the night and day of the festival. Towards twelve o'clock in the day, she said in a voice already changed by the near approach of death, 'It was long since I had felt so well. I have been ill quite a week, have I not? I feel as though I knew nothing about this world of darkness! O, what light the Blessed Mother of God showed me! She took me with her, and how willingly would I have remained with her!' Here she recollected herself for a moment, and then said, placing her finger on her lip: 'But I must not speak of these things.' From that time she said that the slightest word in her praise greatly increased her sufferings. The following days she was worse. On the 7th, in the evening, being rather more calm, she said: 'Ah, my sweet Lord Jesus, thanks be to thee again and again for every part of my life. Lord, thy will and not mine be done.' On the 8th of February, in the evening, a priest was praying near her bed, when she gratefully kissed his hand, begged him to assist at her death and said, 'O Jesus, I live for thee, I die for thee. O Lord, praise be to thy holy name, I no longer see or hear!' Her friends wished to change her position, and thus ease her pain a little; but she said, 'I am on the Cross, it will soon all be over, leave me in peace.' She had received all the last Sacraments, but she wished to accuse herself once more in confession of a slight fault which she had already many times confessed; it was probably of the same nature as a sin which she had committed in her childhood, of which she often accused herself, and which consisted in having gone through a hedge into a neighbour's garden, and coveted some apples which had fallen on the ground. She had only looked at them; for, thank God, she said, she did not touch them, but she thought that was a sin against the tenth commandment. The priest gave her a general absolution; after which she stretched herself out, and those around her thought that she was dying. A person who had often given her pain now drew near her bed and asked her pardon. She looked at him in surprise, and said with the most expressive accent of truth, 'I have nothing to forgive any living creature.' During the last days of her life, when her death was momentarily expected, several of her friends remained constantly in the room adjoining hers. They were speaking in a low tone, and so that she could not hear them, of her patience, faith, and other virtues, when all on a sudden they heard her dying voice saying: 'Ah, for the love of God, do not praise me--that keeps me here, because I then have to suffer double. O my God! how many fresh flowers are falling upon me!' She always saw flowers as the forerunners and figures of sufferings. Then she rejected all praises, with the most profound conviction of her own unworthiness, saying: 'God alone is good: everything must be paid, down to the last farthing. I am poor and loaded with sin, and I can only make up for having been praised by sufferings united to those of Jesus Christ. Do not praise me, but let me die in ignominy with Jesus on the cross.' Boudon, in his life of Father Surin, relates a similar trait of a dying man, who had been thought to have lost the sense of hearing, but who energetically rejected a word of praise pronounced by those who were surrounding his bed. A few hours before death, for which she was longing, saying, 'O Lord assist me; come, O Lord Jesus!' a word of praise appeared to detain her, and she most energetically rejected it by making the following act of humility: 'I cannot die if so many good persons think well of me through a mistake; I beg of you to tell them all that I am a wretched sinner! Would that I could proclaim so as to be heard by all men, how great a sinner I am! I am far beneath the good thief who was crucified by the side of Jesus, for he and all his contemporaries had not so terrible an account as we shall have to render of all the graces which have been bestowed upon the Church.' After this declaration, she appeared to grow calm, and she said to the priest who was comforting her: 'I feel now as peaceful and as much filled with hope and confidence as if I had never committed a sin.' Her eyes turned lovingly towards the cross which was placed at the foot of her bed, her breathing became accelerated, she often drank some liquid; and when the little crucifix was held to her, she from humility only kissed the feet. A friend who was kneeling by her bedside in tears, had the comfort of often holding her the water with which to moisten her lips. As he had laid her hand, on which the white scar of the wound was most distinctly visible, on the counterpane, he took hold of that hand, which was already cold, and as he inwardly wished for some mark of farewell from her, she slightly pressed his. Her face was calm and serene, bearing an expression of heavenly gravity, and which can only be compared to that of a valiant wrestler, who after making unheard of efforts to gain the victory, sinks back and dies in the very act of seizing the prize. The priest again read through the prayers for persons in their last agony, and she then felt an inward inspiration to pray for a pious young friend whose feast day it was. Eight o'clock struck; she breathed more freely for the space of a few minutes, and then cried three times with a deep groan: 'O Lord, assist me: Lord, Lord, come!' The priest rang his bell, and said, 'She is dying.' Several relations and friends who were in the next room came in and knelt down to pray. She was then holding in her hand a lighted taper, which the priest was supporting. She breathed forth several slight sighs, and then her pure soul escaped her chaste lips, and hastened, clothed in the nuptial garment, to appear in heavenly hope before the Divine Bridegroom, and be united for ever to that blessed company of virgins who follow the Lamb whithersoever he goeth. Her lifeless body sank gently back on the pillows at halfpast eight o'clock p.m., on the 9th February 1824. A person who had taken great interest in her during life wrote as follows: 'After her death, I drew near to her bed. She was supported by pillows, and lying on her left side. Some crutches, which had been prepared for her by her friends on one occasion when she had been able to take a few turns in the room, were hanging over her head, crossed, in a corner. Near them hung a little oil painting representing the death of the Blessed Virgin, which had been given her by the Princess of Salm. The expression of her countenance was perfectly sublime, and bore the traces of the spirit of self-sacrifice, the patience and resignation of her whole life; she looked as though she had died for the love of Jesus, in the very act of performing some work of charity for others. Her right hand was resting on the counterpane--that hand on which God had bestowed the unparalleled favour of being able at once to recognise by the touch anything that was holy, or that had been consecrated by the Church--a favour which perhaps no one had ever before enjoyed to so great an extent--a favour by which the interests of religion might be inconceivably promoted, provided it was made use of with discretion, and which surely had not been bestowed upon a poor ignorant peasant girl merely for her own personal gratification. For the last time I took in mine the hand marked with a sign so worthy of our utmost veneration, the hand which was as a spiritual instrument in the instant recognition of whatever was holy, that it might be honoured even in a grain of sand--the charitable industrious hand, which had so often fed the hungry and clothed the naked--this hand was now cold and lifeless. A great favour had been withdrawn from earth, God had taken from us the hand of his spouse, who had rendered testimony to, prayed, and suffered for the truth. It appeared as though it had not been without meaning, that she had resignedly laid down upon her bed the hand which was the outward expression of a particular privilege granted by Divine grace. Fearful of having the strong impression made upon me by the sight of her countenance diminished by the necessary but disturbing preparations which were being made around her bed, I thoughtfully left her room. If, I said to myself--if, like so many holy solitaries, she had died alone in a grave prepared by her own hands, her friends--the birds--would have covered her with flowers and leaves; if, like other religious, she had died among virgins consecrated to God, and that their tender care and respectful veneration had followed her to the grave, as was the case, for example, with St. Colomba of Rieti, it would have been edifying and pleasing to those who loved her; but doubtless such honours rendered to her lifeless remains would not have been conformable to her love for Jesus, whom she so much desired to resemble in death as in life.' The same friend later wrote as follows: 'Unfortunately there was no official post-mortem examination of her body, and none of those inquiries by which she had been so tormented during life were instituted after her death. The friends who surrounded her neglected to examine her body, probably for fear of coming upon some striking phenomenon, the discovery of which might have caused much annoyance in various ways. On Wednesday the 11th of February her body was prepared for burial. A pious female, who would not give up to anyone the task of rendering her this last mark of affection, described to me as follows the condition in which she found her: "Her feet were crossed like the feet of a crucifix. The places of the stigmas were more red than usual. When we raised her head blood flowed from her nose and mouth. All her limbs remained flexible and with none of the stiffness of death even till the coffin was closed." On Friday the 13th of February she was taken to the grave, followed by the entire population of the place. She reposes in the cemetery, to the left of the cross, on the side nearest the hedge. In the grave in front of hers there rests a good old peasant of Welde, and in the grave behind a poor but virtuous female from Dernekamp. On the evening of the day when she was buried, a rich man went, not to Pilate, but to the cure of the place. He asked for the body of Anne Catherine, not to place it in a new sepulchre, but to buy it at a high price for a Dutch doctor. The proposal was rejected as it deserved, but it appears that the report was spread in the little town that the body had been taken away, and it is said that the people went in great numbers to the cemetery to ascertain whether the grave had been robbed.' To these details we will add the following extract from an account printed in December 1824, in the Journal of Catholic literature of Kerz. This account was written by a person with whom we are unacquainted, but who appears to have been well informed: 'About six or seven weeks after the death of Anne Catherine Emmerich, a report having got about that her body had been stolen away, the grave and coffin were opened in secret, by order of the authorities, in the presence of seven witnesses. They found with surprise not unmixed with joy that corruption had not yet begun its work on the body of the pious maiden. Her features and countenance were smiling like those of a person who is dreaming sweetly. She looked as though she had but just been placed in the coffin, nor did her body exhale any corpse-like smell. It is good to keep the secret of the king, says Jesus the son of Sirach; but it is also good to reveal to the world the greatness of the mercy of God.' We have been told that a stone has been placed over her grave. We lay upon it these pages; may they contribute to immortalise the memory of a person who has relieved so many pains of soul and body, and that of the spot where her mortal remains lie awaiting the Day of Resurrection. TO THE READER Whoever compares the following meditations with the short history of the Last Supper given in the Gospel will discover some slight differences between them. An explanation should be given of this, although it can never be sufficiently impressed upon the reader that these writings have no pretensions whatever to add an iota to Sacred Scripture as interpreted by the Church. Sister Emmerich saw the events of the Last Supper take place in the following order:--The Paschal Lamb was immolated and prepared in the supper-room; our Lord held a discourse on that occasion--the guests were dressed as travellers, and ate, standing, the lamb and other food prescribed by the law--the cup of wine was twice presented to our Lord, but he did not drink of it the second time; distributing it to his Apostles with these words: I shall drink no more of the fruit of the vine, etc. Then they sat down; Jesus spoke of the traitor; Peter feared lest it should be himself; Judas received from our Lord the piece of bread dipped, which was the sign that it was he; preparations were made for the washing of the feet; Peter strove against his feet being washed; then came the institution of the Holy Eucharist: Judas communicated, and afterwards left the apartment; the oils were consecrated, and instructions given concerning them; Peter and the other Apostles received ordination; our Lord made his final discourse; Peter protested that he would never abandon him; and then the Supper concluded. By adopting this order, it appears, at first, as though it were in contradiction to the passages of St. Matthew (31:29), and of St. Mark (14:26), in which the words: I will drink no more of the fruit of the vine, etc., come after the consecration, but in St. Luke, they come before. On the contrary, all that concerns the traitor Judas comes here, as in St. Matthew and St. Mark, before the consecration; whereas in St. Luke, it does not come till afterwards. St. John, who does not relate the history of the institution of the Holy Eucharist, gives us to understand that Judas went out immediately after Jesus had given him the bread; but it appears most probable, from the accounts of the other Evangelists, that Judas received the Holy Communion under both forms, and several of the fathers--St. Augustine, St. Gregory the Great, and St. Leo the Great--as well as the tradition of the Catholic Church, tell us expressly that such was the case. Besides, were the order in which St. John presents events taken literally, he would contradict, not only St. Matthew and St. Mark, but himself, for it must follow, from verse 10, chap. 13, that Judas also had his feet washed. Now, the washing of the feet took place after the eating of the Paschal lamb, and it was necessarily whilst it was being eaten that Jesus presented the bread to the traitor. It is plain that the Evangelists here, as in several other parts of their writings, gave their attention to the sacred narrative as a whole, and did not consider themselves bound to relate every detail in precisely the same order, which fully explains the apparent contradictions of each other, which are to be found in their Gospels. The following pages will appear to the attentive reader rather a simple and natural concordance of the Gospels than a history differing in any point of the slightest importance from that of Scripture. MEDITATION I. Preparations for the Pasch Holy Thursday, the 13th Nisan (29th of March). Yesterday evening it was that the last great public repast of our Lord and his friends took place in the house of Simon the Leper, at Bethania, and Mary Magdalen for the last time anointed the feet of Jesus with precious ointment. Judas was scandalised upon this occasion, and hastened forthwith to Jerusalem again to conspire with the high-priests for the betrayal of Jesus into their hands. After the repast, Jesus returned to the house of Lazarus, and some of the Apostles went to the inn situated beyond Bethania. During the night Nicodemus again came to Lazarus' house, had a long conversation with our Lord, and returned before daylight to Jerusalem, being accompanied part of the way by Lazarus. The disciples had already asked Jesus where he would eat the Pasch. To-day, before dawn, our Lord sent for Peter, James, and John, spoke to them at some length concerning all they had to prepare and order at Jerusalem, and told them that when ascending Mount Sion, they would meet the man carrying a pitcher of water. They were already well acquainted with this man, for at the last Pasch, at Bethania, it had been he who prepared the meal for Jesus, and this is why St. Matthew says: a certain man. They were to follow him home, and say to him: the Master saith, My time is near at hand, with thee I make the Pasch with my disciples (Matt. 26:18). They were than to be shown the supper-room, and make all necessary preparations. I saw the Apostles ascending towards Jerusalem, along a ravine, to the south of the Temple, and in the direction of the north side of Sion. On the southern side of the mountain on which the Temple stood, there were some rows of houses; and they walked opposite these houses, following the stream of an intervening torrent. When they had reached the summit of Mount Sion, which is higher than the mountain of the Temple, they turned their steps towards the south, and, just at the beginning of a small ascent, met the man who had been named to them; they followed and spoke to him as Jesus had commanded. He was much gratified by their words, and answered, that a supper had already been ordered to be prepared at his house (probably by Nicodemus), but that he had not been aware for whom, and was delighted to learn that it was for Jesus. This man's name was Heli, and he was the brother-in-law of Zachary of Hebron, in whose house Jesus had in the preceding year announced the death of John the Baptist. He had only one son, who was a Levite, and a friend of St. Luke, before the latter was called by our Lord, and five daughters, all of whom were unmarried. He went up every year with his servants for the festival of the Pasch, hired a room and prepared the Pasch for persons who had no friend in the town to lodge with. This year he had hired a supper-room which belonged to Nicodemus and Joseph of Arimathea. He showed the two Apostles its position and interior arrangement. MEDITATION II. The Supper-Room. On the southern side of Mount Sion, not far from the ruined Castle of David, and the market held on the ascent leading to that Castle, there stood, towards the east, an ancient and solid building, between rows of thick trees, in the midst of a spacious court surrounded by strong walls. To the right and left of the entrance, other buildings were to be seen adjoining the wall, particularly to the right, where stood the dwelling of the major-domo, and close to it the house in which the Blessed Virgin and the holy women spent most of their time after the death of Jesus. The supper-room, which was originally larger, had formerly been inhabited by David's brave captains, who had there learned the use of arms. Previous to the building of the Temple, the Ark of the Covenant had been deposited there for a considerable length of time, and traces of its presence were still to be found in an underground room. I have also seen the Prophet Malachy hidden beneath this same roof: he there wrote his prophecies concerning the Blessed Sacrament and the Sacrifice of the New Law. Solomon held this house in honour, and performed within its walls some figurative and symbolical action, which I have forgotten. When a great part of Jerusalem was destroyed by the Babylonians, this house was spared. I have seen many other things concerning this same house, but I only remember what I have now told. This building was in a very dilapidated state when it became the property of Nicodemus and Joseph of Arimathea, who arranged the principal building in a very suitable manner, and let it as a supper-room to strangers coming to Jerusalem for the purpose of celebrating the festival of the Pasch. Thus it was that our Lord had made use of it the previous year. Moreover, the house and surrounding buildings served as warehouses for monuments and other stones, and as workshops for the labourers; for Joseph of Arimathea possessed valuable quarries in his own country, from which he had large blocks of stone brought, that his workmen might fashion them, under his own eye, into tombs, architectural ornaments, and columns, for sale. Nicodemus had a share in this business, and used to spend many leisure hours himself in sculpturing. He worked in the room, or in a subterraneous apartment which saw beneath it, excepting at the times of the festivals; and this occupation having brought him into connection with Joseph of Arimathea, they had become friends, and often joined together in various transactions. This morning, whilst Peter and John were conversing with the man who had hired the supper-room, I saw Nicodemus in the buildings to the left of the court, where a great many stones which filled up the passages leading to the supper-room had been placed. A week before, I had seen several persons engaged in putting the stones on one side, cleaning the court, and preparing the supper-room for the celebration of the Pasch; it even appears to me that there were among them some disciples of our Lord, perhaps Aram and Themein, the cousins of Joseph of Arimathea. The supper-room, properly so called, was nearly in the centre of the court; its length was greater than its width; it was surrounded by a row of low pillars, and if the spaces between the pillars had been cleared, would have formed a part of the large inner room, for the whole edifice was, as it were, transparent; only it was usual, except on special occasions, for the passages to be closed up. The room was lighted by apertures at the top of the walls. In front, there was first a vestibule, into which three doors gave entrance; next, the large inner room, where several lamps hung from the platform; the walls were ornamented for the festival, half way up, with beautiful matting or tapestry, and an aperture had been made in the roof, and covered over with transparent blue gauze. The back part of this room was separated from the rest by a curtain, also of blue transparent gauze. This division of the supper-room into three parts gave a resemblance to the Temple--thus forming the outer Court, the Holy, and the Holy of Holies. In the last of these divisions, on both sides, the dresses and other things necessary for the celebration of the feast were placed. In the centre there was a species of altar. A stone bench raised on three steps, and of a rectangular triangular shape, came out of the wall; it must have constituted the upper part of the oven used for roasting the Paschal Lamb, for to-day the steps were quite heated during the repast. I cannot describe in detail all that there was in this part of the room, but all kinds of arrangements were being made there for preparing the Paschal Supper. Above this hearth of altar, there was a species of niche in the wall, in front of which I saw an image of the Paschal Lamb, with a knife in its throat, and the blood appearing to flow drop by drop upon the altar; but I do not remember distinctly how that was done. In a niche in the wall there were three cupboards of various colours, which turned like our tabernacles, for opening or closing. A number of vessels used in the celebration of the Pasch were kept in them; later, the Blessed Sacrament was placed there. In the rooms at the sides of the supper-room, there were some couches, on which thick coverlids rolled up were placed, and which could be used as beds. There were spacious cellars beneath the whole of this building. The Ark of the Covenant was formerly deposited under the very spot where the hearth was afterwards built. Five gutters, under the house, served to convey the refuse to the slope of the hill, on the upper part of which the house was built. I had preciously seen Jesus preach and perform miraculous cures there, and the disciples frequently passed the night in the side rooms. MEDITATION III. Arrangements for eating the Paschal Lamb. When the disciples had spoken to Heli of Hebron, the latter went back into the house by the court, but they turned to the right, and hastened down the north side of the hill, through Sion. They passed over a bridge, and walking along a road covered with brambles, reached the other side of the ravine, which was in front of the Temple, and of the row of houses which were to the south of that building. There stood the house of the aged Simeon, who died in the Temple after the presentation of our Lord; and his sons, some of whom were disciples of Jesus in secret, were actually living there. The Apostles spoke to one of them, a tall dark-complexioned man, who held some office in the Temple. They went with him to the eastern side of the Temple, through that part of Ophel by which Jesus made his entry into Jerusalem on Palm-Sunday, and thence to the cattle-market, which stood in the town, to the north of the Temple. In the southern part of this market I saw little enclosures in which some beautiful lambs were gambolling about. Here it was that lambs for the Pasch were bought. I saw the son of Simeon enter one of these enclosures; and the lambs gambolled round him as if they knew him. He chose out four, which were carried to the supper-room, engaged in preparing the Paschal Lamb. I saw Peter and John go to several different parts of the town, and order various things. I saw them also standing opposite the door of a house situated to the north of Mount Calvary, where the disciples of Jesus lodged the greatest part of the time, and which belonged to Seraphia (afterwards called Veronica). Peter and John sent some disciples from thence to the supper-room, giving them several commissions, which I have forgotten. They also went into Seraphia's house, where they had several arrangements to make. Her husband, who was a member of the council, was usually absent and engaged in business; but even when he was at home she saw little of him. She was a woman of about the age of the Blessed Virgin, and had long been connected with the Holy Family; for when the Child Jesus remained the three days in Jerusalem after the feast, she it was who supplied him with food. The two Apostles took from thence, among other things, the chalice of which our Lord made use in the institution of the Holy Eucharist. MEDITATION IV. The Chalice used at the Last Supper The chalice which the Apostles brought from Veronica's house was wonderful and mysterious in its appearance. It had been kept a long time in the Temple among other precious objects of great antiquity, the use and origin of which had been forgotten. The same has been in some degree the case in the Christian Church, where many consecrated jewels have been forgotten and fallen into disuse with time. Ancient vases and jewels, buried beneath the Temple, had often been dug up, sold, or reset. Thus it was that, by God's permission, this holy vessel, which none had ever been able to melt down on account of its being made of some unknown material, and which had been found by the priests in the treasury of the Temple among other objects no longer made use of, had been sold to some antiquaries. It was bought by Seraphia, was several times made use of by Jesus in the celebration of festivals, and, from the day of the Last Supper, became the exclusive property of the holy Christian community. This vessel was not always the same as when used by our Lord at his Last Supper, and perhaps it was upon that occasion that the various pieces which composed it were first put together. The great chalice stood upon a plate, out of which a species of tablet could also be drawn, and around it there were six little glasses. The great chalice contained another smaller vase; above it there was a small plate, and then came a round cover. A spoon was inserted in the foot of the chalice, and could be easily drawn out for use. All these different vessels were covered with fine linen, and, if I am not mistaken, were wrapped up in a case made of leather. The great chalice was composed of the cup and of the foot, which last must have been joined on to it at a later period, for it was of a different material. The cup was pear-shaped, massive, dark-coloured, and highly polished, with gold ornaments, and two small handles by which it could be lifted. The foot was of virgin gold, elaborately worked, ornamented with a serpent and a small bunch of grapes, and enriched with precious stones. The chalice was left in the Church of Jerusalem, in the hand of St. James the Less; and I see that it is still preserved in that town--it will reappear some day, in the same manner as before. Other Churches took the little cups which surrounded it; one was taken to Antioch, and another to Ephesus. They belonged to the patriarchs, who drank some mysterious beverage out of them when they received or gave a Benediction, as I have seen many times. The great chalice had formerly been in the possession of Abraham; Melchisedech brought it with him from the land of Semiramis to the land of Canaan, when he was beginning to found some settlements on the spot where Jerusalem was afterwards built; he made use of it then for offering sacrifice, when he offered bread and wine in the presence of Abraham, and he left it in the possession of that holy patriarch. This same chalice had also been preserved in Noah's Ark. MEDITATION V. Jesus goes up to Jerusalem. In the morning, while the Apostles were engaged at Jerusalem in preparing for the Pasch, Jesus, who had remained at Bethania, took an affecting leave of the holy women, of Lazarus, and of his Blessed Mother, and gave them some final instructions. I saw our Lord conversing apart with his Mother, and he told her, among other things, that he had sent Peter, the apostle of faith, and John, the apostle of love, to prepare for the Pasch at Jerusalem. He said, in speaking of Magdalen, whose grief was excessive, that her love was great, but still somewhat human, and that on this account her sorrow made her beside herself. He spoke also of the schemes of the traitor Judas, and the Blessed Virgin prayed for him. Judas had again left Bethania to go to Jerusalem, under pretence of paying some debts that were due. He spent his whole day in hurrying backwards and forwards from one Pharisee to another, and making his final agreements with them. He was shown the soldiers who had been engaged to seize the person of our Divine Saviour, and he so arranged his journeys to and fro as to be able to account for his absence. I beheld all his wicked schemes and all his thoughts. He was naturally active and obliging, but these good qualities were choked by avarice, ambition, and envy, which passions he made no effort to control. In our Lord's absence he had even performed miracles and healed the sick. When our Lord announced to his Blessed Mother what was going to take place, she besought him, in the most touching terms, to let her die with him. But he exhorted her to show more calmness in her sorrow than the other women, told her that he should rise again, and named the very spot where he should appear to her. She did not weep much, but her grief was indescribable, and there was something almost awful in her look of deep recollection. Our Divine Lord returned thanks, as a loving Son, for all the love she had borne him, and pressed her to his heart. He also told her that he would make the Last Supper with her, spiritually, and named the hour at which she would receive his precious Body and Blood. Then once more he, in touching language, bade farewell to all, and gave them different instructions. About twelve o'clock in the day, Jesus and the nine Apostles went from Bethania up to Jerusalem, followed by seven disciples, who, with the exception of Nathaniel and Silas, came from Jerusalem and the neighbourhood. Among these were John, Mark, and the son of the poor widow who, the Thursday previous, had offered her mite in the Temple, whilst Jesus was preaching there. Jesus had taken him into his company a few days before. The holy women set off later. Jesus and his companions walked around Mount Olivet, about the valley of Josaphat, and even as far as Mount Calvary. During the whole of this walk, he continued giving them instructions. He told the Apostles, among other things, that until then he had given them his bread and his wine, but that this day he was going to give them his Body and Blood, his whole self--all that he had and all that he was. The countenance of our Lord bore so touching an expression whilst he was speaking, that his whole soul seemed to breathe forth from his lips, and he appeared to be languishing with love and desire for the moment when he should give himself to man. His disciples did not understand him, but thought that he was speaking of the Paschal Lamb. No words can give an adequate idea of the love and resignation which were expressed in these last discourses of our Lord at Bethania, and on his way to Jerusalem. The seven disciples who had followed our Lord to Jerusalem did not go there in his company, but carried the ceremonial habits for the Pasch to the supper-room, and then returned to the house of Mary, the mother of Mark. When Peter and John came to the supper-room with the chalice, all the ceremonial habits were already in the vestibule, whither they had been brought by his disciples and some companions. They had also hung the walls with drapery, cleared the higher openings in the sides, and put up three lamps. Peter and John then went to the Valley of Josaphat, and summoned our Lord and the twelve Apostles. The disciples and friends who were also to make their Pasch in the supperroom, came later. MEDITATION VI. The Last Pasch. Jesus and his disciples ate the Paschal Lamb in the supper-room. They divided into three groups. Jesus ate the Paschal Lamb with the twelve Apostles in the supper-room, properly so called; Nathaniel with twelve other disciples in one of the lateral rooms, and Eliacim (the son of Cleophas and Mary, the daughter of Heli), who had been a disciple of John the Baptist, with twelve more, in another side-room. Three lambs were immolated for them in the Temple, but there was a fourth lamb which was immolated in the supper-room, and was the one eaten by Jesus with his Apostles. Judas was not aware of this circumstance, because being engaged in plotting his betrayal of our Lord, he only returned a few moments before the repast, and after the immolation of the lamb had taken place. Most touching was the scene of the immolation of the lamb to be eaten by Jesus and his Apostles; it took place in the vestibule of the supper-room. The Apostles and disciples were present, singing the 118th Psalm. Jesus spoke of a new period then beginning, and said that the sacrifice of Moses and the figure of the Paschal Lamb were about to receive their accomplishment, but that on this very account, the lamb was to be immolated in the same manner as formerly in Egypt, and that they were really about to go forth from the house of bondage. The vessels and necessary instruments were prepared, and then the attendants brought a beautiful little lamb, decorated with a crown, which was sent to the Blessed Virgin in the room where she had remained with the other holy women. The lamb was fastened with its back against a board by a cord around its body, and reminded me of Jesus tied to the pillar and scourged. The son of Simeon held the lamb's head; Jesus made a slight incision in its neck with the point of a knife, which he then gave to the son of Simeon, that he might complete killing it. Jesus appeared to inflict the wound with a feeling of repugnance, and he was quick in his movements, although his countenance was grave, and his manner such as to inspire respect. The blood flowed into a basin, and the attendants brought a branch of hyssop, which Jesus dipped in it. Then he went to the door of the room, stained the sideposts and the lock with blood, and placed the branch which had been dipped in blood above the door. He then spoke to the disciples, and told them, among other things, that the exterminating angel would pass by, that they would adore in that room without fear or anxiety, when he, the true Paschal Lamb, should have been immolated--that a new epoch and a new sacrifice were about to begin, which would last to the end of the world. They then went to the other side of the room, near the hearth where the Ark of the Covenant had formerly stood. Fire had already been lighted there, and Jesus poured some blood upon the hearth, consecrating it as an altar; and the remainder of the blood and the fat were thrown on the fire beneath the altar, after which Jesus, followed by his Apostles, walked round the supper-room, singing some psalms, and consecrating it as a new Temple. The doors were all closed during this time. Meanwhile the son of Simeon had completed the preparation of the lamb. He passed a stake through its body, fastening the front legs on a cross piece of wood; and stretching the hind ones along the stake. It bore a strong resemblance to Jesus on the cross, and was placed in the oven, to be there roasted with the three other lambs brought from the Temple. The Paschal Lambs of the Jews were all immolated in the vestibule of the Temple, but in different parts, according as the persons who were to eat them were rich, or poor, or strangers.5 The Paschal Lamb belonging to Jesus was not immolated in the Temple, but everything else was done strictly according to the law. Jesus again addressed his disciples, saying that the lamb was but a figure, that he himself would next day be the true Paschal Lamb, together with other things which I have forgotten. When Jesus had finished his instructions concerning the Paschal Lamb and its signification, the time being come, and Judas also returned, the tables were set out. The disciples put on travelling dresses which were in the vestibule, different shoes, a white robe resembling a shirt, and a cloak, which was short in front and longer behind, their sleeves were large and turned back, and they girded up their clothes around the waist. Each party went to their own table; and two sets of disciples in the side rooms, and our Lord and his Apostles in the supper-room. They held staves in their hands, and went two and two to the table, where they remained standing, each in his own place, with the stave resting on his arms, and his hands upraised. The table was narrow, and about half a foot higher than the knees of a man; in shape it resembled a horseshoe, and opposite Jesus, in the inner part of the half-circle, there was a space left vacant, that the attendants might be able to set down the dishes. As far as I can remember, John, James the Greater, and James the Less sat on the right-hand of Jesus; after them Bartholomew, and then, round the corner, Thomas and Judas Iscariot. Peter, Andrew, and Thaddeus sat on the left of Jesus; next came Simon, and then (round the corner) Matthew and Philip. The Paschal Lamb was placed on a dish in the centre of the table. Its head rested on its front legs, which were fastened to a cross-stick, its hind legs being stretched out, and the dish was garnished with garlic. By the side there was a dish with the Paschal roast meat, then came a plate with green vegetables balanced against each other, and another plate with small bundles of bitter herbs, which had the appearance of aromatic herbs. Opposite Jesus there was also one dish with different herbs, and a second containing a brown-coloured sauce of beverage. The guest had before them some round loaves instead of plates, and they used ivory knives. After the prayer, the major-domo laid the knife for cutting the lamb on the table before Jesus, who placed a cup of wine before him, and filled six other cups, each one of which stood between two Apostles. Jesus blessed the wine and drank, and the Apostles drank two together out of one cup. Then our Lord proceeded to cut up the lamb; his Apostles presented their pieces of bread in turn, and each received his share. They ate it in haste, separating the flesh from the bone, by means of their ivory knives, and the bones were afterwards burnt. They also ate the garlic and green herbs in haste, dipping them in the sauce. All this time they remained standing, only leaning slightly on the backs of their seats. Jesus brake one of the loaves of unleavened bread, covered up a part of it, and divided the remainder among his Apostles. Another cup of wine was brought, but Jesus drank not of it: 'Take this,' he said, 'and divide it among you, for I will not drink from henceforth of the fruit of the vine, until that day when I shall drink it with you new in the kingdom of my Father' (Matt. 26:29). When they had drunk the wine, they sang a hymn; then Jesus prayed or taught, and they again washed their hands. After this they sat down. Our Lord cut up another lamb which was carried to the holy women in one of the buildings of the court, where they were seated at table. The Apostles ate some more vegetables and lettuce. The countenance of our Divine Saviour bore an indescribable expression of serenity and recollection, greater than I had ever before seen. He bade the Apostles forget all their cares. The Blessed Virgin also, as she sat at table with the other women, looked most placid and calm. When the other women came up, and took hold of her veil to make her turn round and speak to them, her every movement expressed the sweetest self-control and placidity of spirit. At first Jesus conversed lovingly and calmly with his disciples, but after a while he became grave and sad: 'Amen, amen, I say to you, that one of you is about to betray me:' he said, he that dippeth his hand with me in the dish' (Matt. 26:21.23). Jesus was then distributing the lettuce, of which there was only one dish, to those Apostles who were by his side, and he had given Judas, who was nearly opposite to him, the office of distributing it to the others. When Jesus spoke of a traitor, an expression which filled all the Apostles with fear, he said: 'he that dippeth his hand with me in the dish,' which means: 'one of the twelve who are eating and drinking with me--one of those with whom I am eating bread.' He did not plainly point out Judas to the others by these words; for to dip the hand in the same dish was an expression used to signify the most friendly and intimate intercourse. He was desirous, however, to give a warning to Judas, who was then really dipping his hand in the dish with our Saviour, to distribute the lettuce. Jesus continued to speak: 'The Son of Man indeed goeth,' he said, 'as it is written of him: but woe to that man by whom the Son of Man shall be betrayed: It were better for him if that man had not been born.' The Apostles were very much troubled, and each one of them exclaimed: 'Lord, is it I?' for they were all perfectly aware that they did not entirely understand his words. Peter leaned towards John, behind Jesus, and made him a sign to ask our Lord who the traitor was to be, for, having so often been reproved by our Lord, he trembled lest it should be himself who was referred to. John was seated at the right hand of Jesus, and as all were leaning on their left arms, using the right to eat, his head was close to the bosom of Jesus. He leaned then on his breast and said: 'Lord, who is it?' I did not see Jesus say to him with his lips: 'He it is to whom I shall reach bread dipped.' I do not know whether he whispered it to him, but John knew it, when Jesus having dipped the bread, which was covered with lettuce, gave it tenderly to Judas, who also asked: 'Is it I, Lord?' Jesus looked at him with love, and answered him in general terms. Among the Jews, to give bread dipped was a mark of friendship and confidence; Jesus on this occasion gave Judas the morsel, in order thus to warn him, without making known his guilt to the others. But the heart of Judas burned with anger, and during the whole time of the repast, I saw a frightful little figure seated at his feet, and sometimes ascending to his heart. I did not see John repeat to Peter what he had learned from Jesus, but he set his fears at rest by a look. MEDITATION VII. The Washing of the Feet. They arose from table, and whilst they were arranging their clothes, as they usually did before making their solemn prayer, the major-domo came in with two servants to take away the table. Jesus, standing in the midst of his Apostles, spoke to them long, in a most solemn manner. I could not repeat exactly his whole discourse, but I remember he spoke of his kingdom, of his going to his Father, of what he would leave them now that he was about to be taken away, etc. He also gave them some instructions concerning penance, the confession of sin, repentance, and justification. I felt that these instructions referred to the washing of the feet, and I saw that all the Apostles acknowledged their sins and repented of them, with the exception of Judas. This discourse was long and solemn. When it was concluded, Jesus sent John and James the Less to fetch water from the vestibule, and he told the Apostles to arrange the seats in a half circle. He went himself into the vestibule, where he girded himself with a towel. During this time, the Apostles spoke among themselves, and began speculating as to which of them would be the greatest, for our Lord having expressly announced that he was about to leave them and that his kingdom was near at hand, they felt strengthened anew in their idea that he had secret plans, and that he was referring to some earthly triumph which would be theirs at the last moment. Meanwhile Jesus, in the vestibule, told John to take a basin, and James a pitcher filled with water, with which they followed him into the room, where the major-domo had placed another empty basin. Jesus, on returning to his disciples in so humble a manner, addressed them a few words of reproach on the subject of the dispute which had arisen between them, and said among other things, that he himself was their servant, and that they were to sit down, for him to wash their feet. They sat down, therefore, in the same order as they had sat at table. Jesus went from one to the other, poured water from the basin which John carried on the feet of each, and then, taking the end of the towel wherewith he was girded, wiped them. Most loving and tender was the manner of our Lord while thus humbling himself at the feet of his Apostles. Peter, when his turn came, endeavoured through humility to prevent Jesus from washing his feet: 'Lord,' he exclaimed, 'dost thou wash my feet?' Jesus answered: 'What I do, thou knowest not now, but thou shalt know hereafter.' It appeared to me that he said to him privately: 'Simon, thou hast merited for my Father to reveal to thee who I am, whence I come, and whither I am going, thou alone hast expressly confessed it, therefore upon thee will I build my Church, and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it. My power will remain with thy successors to the end of the world.' Jesus showed him to the other Apostles, and said, that when he should be no more present among them, Peter was to fill his place in their regard. Peter said: 'Thou shalt never wash my feet!' Our Lord replied: 'If I wash thee not, thou shalt have no part with me.' Then Peter exclaimed: 'Lord, not only my feet, but also my hands and my head.' Jesus replied: 'He that is washed, needeth not but to wash his feet, but is clean wholly. And you are clean, but not all.' By these last words he referred to Judas. He had spoken of the washing of the feet as signifying purification from daily faults, because the feet, which are continually in contact with the earth, are also continually liable to be soiled, unless great care is taken. This washing of the feet was spiritual, and served as a species of absolution. Peter, in his zeal, saw nothing in it but too great an act of abasement on the part of his Master; he knew not that to save him Jesus would the very next day humble himself even to the ignominious death of the cross. When Jesus washed the feet of Judas, it was in the most loving and affecting manner; he bent his sacred face even on to the feet of the traitor; and in a low voice bade him now at least enter into himself, for that he had been a faithless traitor for the last year. Judas appeared to be anxious to pay no heed whatever to his words, and spoke to John, upon which Peter became angry, and exclaimed: 'Judas, the Master speaks to thee!' Then Judas made our Lord some vague, evasive reply, such as, 'Heaven forbid, Lord!' The others had not remarked that Jesus was speaking to Judas, for this words were uttered in a low voice, in order not to be heard by them, and besides, they were engaged in putting on their shoes. Nothing in the whole course of the Passion grieved Jesus so deeply as the treason of Judas. Jesus finally washed the feet of John and James. He then spoke again on the subject of humility, telling them that he that was the greatest among them was to be as their servant, and that henceforth they were to wash one another's feet. Then he put on his garments, and the Apostles let down their clothes, which they had girded up before eating the Paschal Lamb. MEDITATION VIII. Institution of the Holy Eucharist. By command of our Lord, the major-domo had again laid out the table, which he had raised a little; then, having placed it once more in the middle of the room, he stood one urn filled with wine, and another with water underneath it. Peter and John went into the part of the room near the hearth, to get the chalice which they had brought from Seraphia's house, and which was still wrapped up in its covering. They carried it between them as if they had been carrying a tabernacle, and placed it on the table before Jesus. An oval plate stood there, with three fine white azymous loaves, placed on a piece of linen, by the side of the half loaf which Jesus had set aside during the Paschal meal, also a jar containing wine and water, and three boxes, one filled with thick oil, a second with liquid oil, and the third empty. In earlier times, it had been the practice for all at table to eat of the same loaf and drink of the same cup at the end of the meal, thereby to express their friendship and brotherly love, and to welcome and bid farewell to each other. I think Scripture must contain something upon this subject. On the day of the Last Supper, Jesus raised this custom (which had hitherto been no more than a symbolical and figurative rite) to the dignity of the holiest of sacraments. One of the charges brought before Caiphas, on occasion of the treason of Judas, was, that Jesus had introduced a novelty into the Paschal ceremonies, but Nicodemus proved from Scripture that it was an ancient practice. Jesus was seated between Peter and John, the doors were closed, and everything was done in the most mysterious and imposing manner. When the chalice was taken out of its covering, Jesus prayed, and spoke to his Apostles with the utmost solemnity. I saw him giving them an explanation of the Supper, and of the entire ceremony, and I was forcibly reminded of a priest teaching others to say Mass. He then drew a species of shelf with grooves from the boars on which the jars stood, and taking a piece of white linen with which the chalice was covered, spread it over the board and shelf. I then saw him lift a round plate, which he placed on this same shelf, off the top of the chalice. He next took the azymous loaves from beneath the linen with which they were covered and placed them before him on the board; then he took out of the chalice a smaller vase, and ranged the six little glasses on each side of it. Then he blessed the bread and also the oil, to the best of my belief after which he lifted up the paten with the loaves upon it, in his two hands, raised his eyes, prayed, offered, and replaced the paten on the table, covering it up again. He then took the chalice, had some wine poured into it by Peter, and some water, which he first blessed, by John, adding to it a little more water, which he poured into a small spoon, and after this he blessed the chalice, raised it up with a prayer, made the oblation, and replaced it on the table. John and Peter poured some water on his hands, which he held over the plate on which the azymous loaves had been placed; then he took a little of the water which had been poured on his hands, in the spoon that he had taken out of the lower part of the chalice, and poured it on theirs. After this, the vase was passed round the table, and all the Apostles washed their hands in it. I do not remember whether this was the precise order in which these ceremonies were performed; all I know is, that they reminded me in a striking manner of the holy sacrifice of the Mass. Meanwhile, our Divine Lord became more and more tender and loving in his demeanour; he told his Apostles that he was about to give them all that he had, namely, his entire self, and he looked as though perfectly transformed by love. I saw him becoming transparent, until he resembled a luminous shadow. He broke the bread into several pieces, which he laid together on the paten, and then took a corner of the first piece and dripped it into the chalice. At the moment when he was doing this, I seemed to see the Blessed Virgin receiving the Holy Sacrament in a spiritual manner, although she was not present in the supper-room. I do not know how it was done, but I thought I saw her enter without touching the ground, and come before our Lord to receive the Holy Eucharist; after which I saw her no more. Jesus had told her in the morning, at Bethania, that he would keep the Pasch with her spiritually, and he had named the hour at which she was to betake herself to prayer, in order to receive it in spirit. Again he prayed and taught; his words came forth from his lips like fire and light, and entered into each of the Apostles, with the exception of Judas. He took the paten with the pieces of bread (I do not know whether he had placed it on the chalice) and said: 'Take and eat; this is my Body which is given for you.' He stretched forth his right hand as if to bless, and, whilst he did so, a brilliant light came from him, his words were luminous, the bread entered the mouths of the Apostles as a brilliant substance, and light seemed to penetrate and surround them all, Judas alone remaining dark. Jesus presented the bread first to Peter, next to John and then he made a sign to Judas to approach.6 Judas was thus the third who received the Adorable Sacrament, but the words of our Lord appeared to turn aside from the mouth of the traitor, and come back to their Divine Author. So perturbed was I in spirit at this sight, that my feelings cannot be described. Jesus said to him: 'That which thou dost, do quickly.' He then administered the Blessed Sacrament to the other Apostles, who approached two and two. Jesus raised the chalice by its two handles to a level with his face, and pronounced the words of consecration. Whilst doing so, he appeared wholly transfigured, as it were transparent, and as though entirely passing into what he was going to give his Apostles. He made Peter and John drink from the chalice which he held in his hand, and then placed it again on the table. John poured the Divine Blood from the chalice into the smaller glasses, and Peter presented them to the Apostles, two of whom drank together out of the same cup. I think, but am not quite certain, that Judas also partook of the chalice; he did not return to his place, but immediately left the supper-room, and the other Apostles thought that Jesus had given him some commission to do. He left without praying or making any thanksgiving, and hence you may perceive how sinful it is to neglect returning thanks either after receiving our daily food, or after partaking of the Life-Giving Bread of Angels. During the entire meal, I had seen a frightful little figure, with one foot like a dried bone, remaining close to Judas, but when he had reached the door, I beheld three devils pressing round him; one entered into his mouth, the second urged him on, and the third preceded him. It was night, and they seemed to be lighting him, whilst he hurried onward like a madman. Our Lord poured a few drops of the Precious Blood remaining in the chalice into the little vase of which I have already spoken, and then placed his fingers over the chalice, while Peter and John poured water and wine upon them. This done, he caused them to drink again from the chalice, and what remained of its contents was poured into the smaller glasses, and distributed to the other Apostles. Then Jesus wiped the chalice, put into it the little vase containing the remainder of the Divine Blood, and placed over it the paten with the fragments of the consecrated bread, after which he again put on the cover, wrapped up the chalice, and stood it in the midst of the six small cups. I saw the Apostles receive in communion these remains of the Adorable Sacrament, after the Resurrection. I do not remember seeing our Lord himself eat and drink of the consecrated elements, neither did I see Melchisedech, when offering the bread and wine, taste of them himself. It was made known to me why priests partake of them, although Jesus did not. Here Sister Emmerich looked suddenly up, and appeared to be listening. Some explanation was given her on this subject, but the following words were all that she could repeat to us: 'If the office of distributing it had been given to angels, they would not have partaken, but if priests did not partake, the Blessed Eucharist would be lost--it is through their participation that it is preserved.' There was an indescribable solemnity and order in all the actions of Jesus during the institution of the Holy Eucharist, and his every movement was most majestic. I saw the Apostles noting things down in the little rolls of parchment which they carried on their persons. Several times during the ceremonies I remarked that they bowed to each other, in the same way that our priests do. MEDITATION IX. Private Instruction and Consecrations. Jesus gave his Apostles some private instructions; he told them how they were to preserve the Blessed Sacrament in memory of him, even to the end of the world; he taught them the necessary forms for making use of and communicating it, and in what manner they were, by degrees, to teach and publish this mystery; finally he told them when they were to receive what remained of the consecrated Elements, when to give some to the Blessed Virgin, and how to consecrate, themselves, after he should have sent them the Divine Comforter. He then spoke concerning the priesthood, the sacred unction, and the preparation of the Chrism and Holy Oils.7 He had there three boxes, two of which contained a mixture of oil and balm. He taught them how to make this mixture, what parts of the body were to be anointed with them, and upon what occasions. I remember, among other things, that he mentioned a case in which the Holy Eucharist could not be administered; perhaps what he said had reference to Extreme Unction, for my recollections on this point are not very clear. He spoke of different kinds of anointing, and in particular of that of kings, and he said that even wicked kings who were anointed, derived from it especial powers. He put ointment and oil in the empty box, and mixed them together, but I cannot say for certain whether it was at this moment, or at the time of the consecration of the bread, that he blessed the oil. I then saw Jesus anoint Peter and John, on whose hands he had already poured the water which had flowed on his own, and two whom he had given to drink out of the chalice. Then he laid his hands on their shoulders and heads, while they, on their part, joined their hands and crossed their thumbs, bowing down profoundly before him--I am not sure whether they did not even kneel. He anointed the thumb and fore-finger of each of their hands, and marked a cross on their heads with Chrism. He said also that this would remain with them unto the end of the world. James the Less, Andrew, James the Greater, and Bartholomew, were also consecrated. I saw likewise that on Peter's bosom he crossed a sort of stole worn round the neck, whilst on the others he simply placed it crosswise, from the right shoulder to the left side. I do not know whether this was done at the time of the institution of the Blessed Sacrament, or only for the anointing. I understood that Jesus communicated to them by this unction something essential and supernatural, beyond my power to describe. He told them that when they should have received the Holy Spirit they were to consecrate the bread and wine, and anoint the other Apostles. It was made known to me then that, on the day of Pentecost, Peter and John imposed their hands upon the other Apostles, and a week later upon several of the disciples. After the Resurrection, John gave the Adorable Sacrament for the first time to the Blessed Virgin. It is a festival no longer kept in the Church on earth, but I see it celebrated in the Church triumphant. For the first few days after Pentecost I saw only Peter and John consecrate the Blessed Eucharist, but after that the others also consecrated. Our Lord next proceeded to bless fire in a brass vessel, and care was taken that it should not go out, but it was kept near the spot where the Blessed Sacrament had been deposited, in one division of the ancient Paschal hearth, and fire was always taken from it when needed for spiritual purposes. All that Jesus did upon this occasion was done in private, and taught equally in private. The Church has retained all that was essential of these secret instructions, and, under the inspiration of the Holy Ghost, developed and adapted them to all her requirements. Whether Peter and John were both consecrated bishops, or Peter alone as bishop and John as priest, or to what dignity the other four Apostles were raised, I cannot pretend to say. But the different ways in which our Lord arranged the Apostles' stoles appear to indicate different degrees of consecration. When these holy ceremonies were concluded, the chalice (near which the blessed Chrism also stood) was re-covered, and the Adorable Sacrament carried by Peter and John into the back part of the room, which was divided off by a curtain, and from thenceforth became the Sanctuary. The spot where the Blessed Sacrament was deposited was not very far above the Paschal stove. Joseph of Arimathea and Nicodemus took care of the Sanctuary and of the supper-room during the absence of the Apostles. Jesus again instructed his Apostles for a considerable length of time, and also prayed several times. He frequently appeared to be conversing with his Heavenly Father, and to be overflowing with enthusiasm and love. The Apostles also were full of joy and zeal, and asked him various questions which he forthwith answered. The scriptures must contain much of this last discourse and conversation. He told Peter and John different things to be made known later to the other Apostles, who in their turn were to communicate them to the disciples and holy women, according to the capacity of each for such knowledge. He had a private conversation with John, whom he told that his life would be longer than the lives of the others. He spoke to him also concerning seven Churches, some crowns and angels, and instructed him in the meaning of certain mysterious figures, which signified, to the best of my belief, different epochs. The other Apostles were slightly jealous of this confidential communication being made to John. Jesus spoke also of the traitor. 'Now he is doing this or that,' he said, and I, in fact, saw Judas doing exactly as he said of him. As Peter was vehemently protesting that he would always remain faithful, our Lord said to him: 'Simon, Simon, behold Satan hath desired to have you that he may sift you as wheat. But I have prayed for thee that thy faith fail not: and thou being once converted, confirm thy brethren.' Again, our Lord, said, that whither he was going they could not follow him, when Peter exclaimed: 'Lord, I am ready to go with thee both into prison and to death.' And Jesus replied: 'Amen, amen, I say to thee, before the cock crow twice, thou shalt deny me thrice.' Jesus, while making known to his Apostles that trying times were at hand for them, said: 'When I sent you without purse, or scrip, or shoes, did you want anything?' They answered: 'Nothing.' 'But now,' he continued, 'he that hath a purse let him take it, and likewise a scrip, and he that hath not, let him sell his coat and buy a sword. For I say to you, that this that is written must yet be fulfilled in me: AND WITH THE WICKED WAS HE RECKONED. For the things concerning me have an end.' The Apostles only understood his words in a carnal sense, and Peter showed him two swords, which were short and thick, like cleavers. Jesus said: 'It is enough: let us go hence.' Then they sang the thanksgiving hymn, put the table on one side, and went into the vestibule. There, Jesus found his Mother, Mary of Cleophas, and Magdalen, who earnestly besought him not to go to Mount Olivet, for a report has spread that his enemies were seeking to lay hands on him. But Jesus comforted them in few words, and hastened onward--it being then about nine o'clock. They went down the road by which Peter and John had come to the supper-room, and directed their steps towards Mount Olivet. I have always seen the Pasch and the institution of the Blessed Sacrament take place in the order related above. But my feelings were each time so strongly excited and my emotion so great, that I could not give much attention to all the details, but now I have seen them more distinctly. No words can describe how painful and exhausting is such a sight as that of beholding the hidden recesses of hearts, the love and constancy of our Saviour, and to know at the same time all that is going to befall him. How would it be possible to observe all that is merely external! The heart is overflowing with admiration, gratitude, and love--the blindness of men seems perfectly incomprehensible--and the soul is overwhelmed with sorrow at the thought of the ingratitude of the whole world, and of her own sins! The eating of the Paschal Lamb was performed by Jesus rapidly, and in entire conformity with all the legal ordinances. The Pharisees were in the habit of adding some minute and superstitious ceremonies. THE PASSION. "If thou knowest not how to meditate on high and heavenly things, rest on the Passion of Christ, and willingly dwell in his sacred wounds. For, if thou fly devoutly to the wounds and precious stigmas of Jesus, thou shalt feel great comfort in tribulation."--Imitation of Christ, book 2, chapter 1. INTRODUCTION. On the evening of the 18th of February, 1823, a friend of Sister Emmerich went up to the bed, where she was lying apparently asleep; and being much struck by the beautiful and mournful expression of her countenance, felt himself inwardly inspired to raise his heart fervently to God, and offer the Passion of Christ to the Eternal Father, in union with the sufferings of all those who have carried their cross after him. While making this short prayer, he chanced to fix his eyes for a moment upon the stigmatised hands of Sister Emmerich. She immediately hid them under the counterpane, starting as if someone had given her a blow. He felt surprised at this, and asked her, 'What has happened to you?' 'Many things,' she answered in an expressive tone. Whilst he was considering what her meaning could be, she appeared to be asleep. At the end of about a quarter of an hour, she suddenly started up with all the eagerness of a person having a violent struggle with another, stretched out both her arms, clenching her hand, as if to repel an enemy standing on the left side of her bed, and exclaimed in an indignant voice: 'What do you mean by this contract of Magdalum?' Then she continued to speak with the warmth of a person who is being questioned during a quarrel--'Yes, it is that accursed spirit--the liar from the beginning--Satan, who is reproaching him about the Magdalum contract, and other things of the same nature, and says that he spent all that money upon himself.' When asked, 'Who has spent money? Who is being spoken to in that way?' she replied, 'Jesus, my adorable Spouse, on Mount Olivet.' Then she again turned to the left, with menacing gestures, and exclaimed, 'What meanest thou, O father of lies, with thy Magdalum contract? Did he not deliver twenty-seven poor prisoners at Thirza, with the money derived from the sale of Magdalum? I saw him, and thou darest to say that he has brought confusion into the whole estate, driven out its inhabitants, and squandered the money for which it was sold? But thy time is come, accursed spirit! Thou wilt be chained, and his heel will crush thy head.' Here she was interrupted by the entrance of another person; her friends thought that she was in delirium, and pitied her. The following morning she owned that the previous night she had imagined herself to be following our Saviour to the Garden of Olives, after the institution of the Blessed Eucharist, but that just at that moment someone having looked at the stigmas on her hands with a degree of veneration, she felt so horrified at this being done in the presence of our Lord, that she hastily hid them, with a feeling of pain. She then related her vision of what took place in the Garden of Olives, and as she continued her narrations the following days, the friend who was listening to her was enabled to connect the different scenes of the Passion together. But as, during Lent, she was also celebrating the combats of our Lord with Satan in the desert, she had to endure in her own person many sufferings and temptations. Hence there were a few pauses in the history of the Passion, which were, however, easily filled up by means of some later communications. She usually spoke in common German, but when in a state of ecstasy, her language became much purer, and her narrations partook at once of child-like simplicity and dignified inspiration. Her friend wrote down all that she had said, directly he returned to his own apartments; for it was seldom that he could so much as even take notes in her presence. The Giver of all good gifts bestowed upon him memory, zeal, and strength to bear much trouble and fatigue, so that he has been enabled to bring this work to a conclusion. His conscience tells him that he has done his best, and he humbly begs the reader, if satisfied with the result of his labours, to bestow upon him the alms of an occasional prayer. CHAPTER I. Jesus in the Garden of Olives. When Jesus left the supper-room with the eleven Apostles, after the institution of the Adorable Sacrament of the Altar, his soul was deeply oppressed and his sorrow on the increase. He led the eleven, by an unfrequented path, to the Valley of Josaphat. As they left the house, I saw the moon, which was not yet quite at the full, rising in front of the mountain. Our Divine Lord; as he wandered with his Apostles about the valley, told them that here he should one day return to judge the world, but not in a state of poverty and humiliation, as he then was, and that men would tremble with fear, and cry: 'Mountains, fall upon us!' His disciples did not understand him, and thought, by no means for the first time that night, that weakness and exhaustion had affected his brain. He said to them again: 'All you shall be scandalised in me this night. For it is written: I WILL STRIKE THE SHEPHERD, AND THE SHEEP OF THE FLOCK SHALL BE DISPERSED. But after I shall be risen again, I will go before you into Galilee.' The Apostles were still in some degree animated by the spirit of enthusiasm and devotion with which their reception of the Blessed Sacrament and the solemn and affecting words of Jesus had inspired them. They eagerly crowded round him, and expressed their love in a thousand different ways, earnestly protesting that they would never abandon him. But as Jesus continued to talk in the same strain, Peter exclaimed: 'Although all shall be scandalised in thee, I will never be scandalised!' and our Lord answered him: 'Amen, I say to thee, that in this night, before the cock crow, thou wilt deny me thrice.' But Peter still insisted, saying: 'Yea, though I should die with thee, I will not deny thee.' And the others all said the same. They walked onward and stopped, by turns, for the sadness of our Divine Lord continued to increase. The Apostles tried to comfort him by human arguments, assuring him that what he foresaw would not come to pass. They tired themselves in these vain efforts, began to doubt, and were assailed by temptation. They crossed the brook Cedron, not by the bridge where, a few hours later, Jesus was taken prisoner, but by another, for they had left the direct road. Gethsemani, whither they were going, was about a mile and a half distant from the supper-hall, for it was three quarters of a mile from the supper-hall to the Valley of Josaphat, and about as far from thence to Gethsemani. The place called Gethsemani (where latterly Jesus had several times passed the night with his disciples) was a large garden, surrounded by a hedge, and containing only some fruit trees and flowers, while outside there stood a few deserted unclosed buildings. The Apostles and several others persons had keys of this garden, which was used sometimes as a pleasure ground, and sometimes as a place of retirement for prayer. Some arbours made of leaves and branches had been raised there, and eight of the Apostles remained in them, and were later joined by others of the disciples. The Garden of Olives was separated by a road from that of Gethsemani, and was open, surrounded only by an earthern wall, and smaller than the Garden of Gethsemani. There were caverns, terraces, and many olive-trees to be seen in this garden, and it was easy to find there a suitable spot for prayer and meditation. It was to the wildest part that Jesus went to pray. It was about nine o'clock when Jesus reached Gethsemani with his disciples. The moon had risen, and already gave light in the sky, although the earth was still dark. Jesus was most sorrowful, and told his Apostles that danger was at hand. The disciples felt uneasy, and he told eight of those who were following him, to remain in the Garden of Gethsemani whilst he went on to pray. He took with him Peter, James, and John, and going on a little further, entered into the Garden of Olives. No words can describe the sorrow which then oppressed his soul, for the time of trial was near. John asked him how it was that he, who had hitherto always consoled them, would now be so dejected? 'My soul is sorrowful even unto death,' was his reply. And he beheld sufferings and temptations surrounding him on all sides, and drawing nearer and nearer, under the forms of frightful figures borne on clouds. Then it was that he said to the three Apostles: 'Stay you here and watch with me. Pray, lest ye enter into temptation.' Jesus went a few steps to the left, down a hill, and concealed himself beneath a rock, in a grotto about six feet deep, while the Apostles remained in a species of hollow above. The earth sank gradually the further you entered this grotto, and the plants which were hanging from the rock screened its interior like a curtain from persons outside. When Jesus left his disciples, I saw a number of frightful figures surrounding him in an ever-narrowing circle. His sorrow and anguish of soul continued to increase, and he was trembling all over when he entered the grotto to pray, like a wayworn traveller hurriedly seeking shelter from a sudden storm, but the awful visions pursued him even there, and became more and more clear and distinct. Alas! this small cavern appeared to contain the awful picture of all the sins which had been or were to be committed from the fall of Adam to the end of the world, and of the punishment which they deserved. It was here, on Mount Olivet, that Adam and Eve took refuge when drive out of Paradise to wander homeless on earth, and they had wept and bewailed themselves in this very grotto. I felt that Jesus, in delivering himself up to Divine Justice in satisfaction for the sins of the world, caused his divinity to return, in some sort, into the bosom of the Holy Trinity, concentrated himself, so to speak, in his pure, loving and innocent humanity, and strong only in his ineffable love, gave it up to anguish and suffering. He fell on his face, overwhelmed with unspeakable sorrow, and all the sins of the world displayed themselves before him, under countless forms and in all their real deformity. He took them all upon himself, and in his prayer offered his own adorable Person to the justice of his Heavenly Father, in payment for so awful a debt. But Satan, who was enthroned amid all these horrors, and even filled with diabolical joy at the sight of them, let loose his fury against Jesus, and displayed before the eyes of his soul increasingly awful visions, at the same time addressing his adorable humanity in words such as these: 'Takest thou even this sin upon thyself? Art thou willing to bear its penalty? Art thou prepared to satisfy for all these sins?' And now a long ray of light, like a luminous path in the air descended from Heaven; it was a procession of angels who came up to Jesus and strengthened and re-invigorated him. The remainder of the grotto was filled with frightful visions of our crimes; Jesus took them all upon himself, but that adorable Heart, which was so filled with the most perfect love for God and man, was flooded with anguish, and overwhelmed beneath the weight of so many abominable crimes. When this huge mass of iniquities, like the waves of a fathomless ocean, has passed over his soul, Satan brought forward innumerable temptations, as he had formerly done in the desert, even daring to adduce various accusations against him. 'And takest thou all these things upon thyself,' he exclaimed, 'thou who art not unspotted thyself?' then he laid to the charge of our Lord, with infernal impudence, a host of imaginary crimes. He reproached him with the faults of his disciples, the scandals which they had caused, and the disturbances which he had occasioned in the world by giving up ancient customs. No Pharisee, however wily and severe, could have surpassed Satan on this occasion; he reproached Jesus with having been the cause of the massacre of the Innocents, as well as of the sufferings of his parents in Egypt, with not having saved John the Baptist from death, with having brought disunion into families, protected men of despicable character, refused to cure various sick persons, injured the inhabitants of Gergesa by permitting men possessed by the devil to overturn their vats,8 and demons to make swine cast themselves into the sea; with having deserted his family, and squandered the property of others; in one word Satan, in the hopes of causing Jesus to waver, suggested to him every thought by which he would have tempted at the hour of death an ordinary mortal who might have performed all these actions without a superhuman intention; for it was hidden from him that Jesus was the Son of God, and he tempted him only as the most just of men. Our Divine Saviour permitted his humanity thus to preponderate over his divinity, for he was pleased to endure even those temptations with which holy souls are assailed at the hour of death concerning the merit of their good works. That he might drink the chalice of suffering even to the dregs, he permitted the evil spirit to tempt his sacred humanity, as he would have tempted a man who should wish to attribute to his good works some special value in themselves, over and above what they might have by their union with the merits of our Saviour. There was not an action out of which he did not contrive to frame some accusation, and he reproached Jesus, among other things, with having spent the price of the property of Mary Magdalen at Magdalum, which he had received from Lazarus. Among the sins of the world which Jesus took upon himself, I saw also my own; and a stream, in which I distinctly beheld each of my faults, appeared to flow towards me from out of the temptations with which he was encircled. During this time my eyes were fixed upon my Heavenly Spouse; with him I wept and prayed, and with him I turned towards the consoling angels. Ah, truly did our dear Lord writhe like a worm beneath the weight of his anguish and sufferings! Whilst Satan was pouring forth his accusations against Jesus, it was with difficulty that I could restrain my indignation, but when he spoke of the sale of Magdalen's property, I could no longer keep silence, and exclaimed: 'How canst thou reproach him with the sale of this property as with a crime? Did I not myself see our Lord spend the sum which was given him by Lazarus in works of mercy, and deliver twenty-eight debtors imprisoned at Thirza?' At first Jesus looked calm, as he kneeled down and prayed, but after a time his soul became terrified at the sight of the innumerable crimes of men, and of their ingratitude towards God, and his anguish was so great that the trembled and shuddered as he exclaimed: 'Father, if it is possible, let this chalice pass from me! Father, all things are possible to thee, remove this chalice from me!' But the next moment he added: 'Nevertheless, not my will but thine be done.' His will and that of his Father were one, but now that his love had ordained that he should be left to all the weakness of his human nature, he trembled at the prospect of death. I saw the cavern in which he was kneeling filled with frightful figures; I saw all the sins, wickedness, vices, and ingratitude of mankind torturing and crushing him to the earth; the horror of death and terror which he felt as man at the sight of the expiatory sufferings about to come upon him, surrounded and assailed his Divine Person under the forms of hideous spectres. He fell from side to side, clasping his hands; his body was covered with a cold sweat, and he trembled and shuddered. He then arose, but his knees were shaking and apparently scarcely able to support him; his countenance was pale, and quite altered in appearance, his lips white, and his hair standing on end. It was about half-past ten o'clock when he arose from his knees, and, bathed in a cold sweat, directed his trembling, weak footsteps towards his three Apostles. With difficulty did he ascend the left side of the cavern, and reach a spot where the ground was level, and where they were sleeping, exhausted with fatigue, sorrow and anxiety. He came to them, like a man overwhelmed with bitter sorrow, whom terror urges to seek his friends, but like also to a good shepherd, who, when warned of the approach of danger, hastens to visit his flock, the safety of which is threatened; for he well knew that they also were being tried by suffering and temptation. The terrible visions never left him, even while he was thus seeking his disciples. When he found that they were asleep, he clasped his hands and fell down on his knees beside them, overcome with sorrow and anxiety, and said: 'Simon, sleepest thou?' They awoke, and raised him up, and he, in his desolation of spirit, said to them: 'What? Could you not watch one hour with me?' When they looked at him, and saw him pale and exhausted, scarcely able to support himself, bathed in sweat, trembling and shuddering,--when they heard how changed and almost inaudible his voice had become, they did not know what to think, and had he not been still surrounded by a well-known halo of light, they would never have recognised him as Jesus. John said to him: 'Master, what has befallen thee? Must I call the other disciples? Ought we to take to flight?' Jesus answered him: 'Were I to live, teach, and perform miracles for thirty-three years longer, that would not suffice for the accomplishment of what must be fulfilled before this time tomorrow. Call not the eight; I did not bring them hither, because they could not see me thus agonising without being scandalised; they would yield to temptation, forget much of the past, and lose their confidence in me. But you, who have seen the Son of Man transfigured, may also see him under a cloud, and in dereliction of spirit; nevertheless, watch and pray, lest ye fall into temptation, for the spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak.' By these words he sought at once to encourage them to persevere, and to make known to them the combat which his human nature was sustaining against death, together with the cause of his weakness. In his overwhelming sorrow, he remained with them nearly a quarter of an hour, and spoke to them again. He then returned to the grotto, his mental sufferings being still on the increase, while his disciples, on their part, stretched forth their hands towards him, wept, and embraced each other, asking, 'What can it be? What is happening to him? He appears to be in a state of complete desolation.' After this, they covered their heads, and began to pray, sorrowfully and anxiously. About an hour and a half had passed since Jesus entered the Garden of Olives. It is true that Scripture tells us he said, 'Could you not watch one hour with me?' but his words should not be taken literally, nor according to our way of counting time. The three Apostles who were with Jesus had prayed at first, but then they had fallen asleep, for temptation had come upon them by reason of their want of trust in God. The other eight, who had remained outside the garden, did not sleep, for our Lord's last words, so expressive of suffering and sadness, had filled their hearts with sinister forebodings, and they wandered about Mount Olivet, trying to find some place of refuge in case of danger. The town of Jerusalem was very quiet; the Jews were in their houses, engaged in preparing for the feast, but I saw, here and there, some of the friends and disciples of Jesus walking to and fro, with anxious countenances, conversing earnestly together, and evidently expecting some great event. The Mother of our Lord, Magdalen, Martha, Mary of Cleophas, Mary Salome, and Salome had gone from the supper-hall to the house of Mary, the mother of Mark. Mary was alarmed at the reports which were spreading, and wished to return to the town with her friends, in order to hear something of Jesus. Lazarus, Nicodemus, Joseph of Arimathea, and some relations from Hebron, came to see and endeavour to tranquillise her, for as they were aware, either from their own knowledge or from what the disciples had told them, of the mournful predictions which Jesus had made in the supper-room, they had made inquiries of some Pharisees of their acquaintance, and had not been able to hear that any conspiracy was on foot for the time against our Lord. Being utterly ignorant of the treason of Judas, they assured Mary that the danger could not yet be very great, and that the enemies of Jesus would not make any attempt upon his person, at least until the festival was over. Mary told them how restless and disturbed in mind Judas had latterly appeared, and how abruptly he had left the supper-room. She felt no doubt of his having gone to betray our Lord, for she had often warned him that he was a son of perdition. The holy women then returned to the house of Mary, the mother of Mark. When Jesus, unrelieved of all the weight of his sufferings, returned to the grotto, he fell prostrate, with his face on the ground and his arms extended, and prayed to his Eternal Father; but his soul had to sustain a second interior combat, which lasted three-quarters of an hour. Angels came and showed him, in a series of visions, all the sufferings that he was to endure in order to expiate sin; how great was the beauty of man, the image of God, before the fall, and how that beauty was changed and obliterated when sin entered the world. He beheld how all sins originated in that of Adam, the signification and essence of concupiscence, its terrible effect on the powers of the soul, and likewise the signification and essence of all the sufferings entailed by concupiscence. They showed him the satisfaction which he would have to offer to Divine Justice, and how it would consist of a degree of suffering in his soul and body which would comprehend all the sufferings due to the concupiscence of all mankind, since the debt of the whole human race had to be paid by that humanity which alone was sinless--the humanity of the Son of God. The angels showed him all these things under different forms, and I felt what they were saying, although I heard no voice. No tongue can describe what anguish and what horror overwhelmed the soul of Jesus at the sight of so terrible an expiation--his sufferings were so great, indeed, that a bloody sweat issued forth from all the pores of this sacred body. Whilst the adorable humanity of Christ was thus crushed to the earth beneath this awful weight of suffering, the angels appeared filled with compassion; there was a pause, and I perceived that they were earnestly desiring to console him, and praying to that effect before the throne of God. For one instant there appeared to be, as it were, a struggle between the mercy and justice of God and that love which was sacrificing itself. I was permitted to see an image of God, not, as before, seated on a throne, but under a luminous form. I beheld the divine nature of the Son in the Person of the Father, and, as it were, withdrawn in his bosom; the Person of the Holy Ghost proceeded from the Father and the Son, it was, so to speak, between them, and yet the whole formed only one God--but these things are indescribable. All this was more an inward perception than a vision under distinct forms, and it appeared to me that the Divine Will of our Lord withdrew in some sort into the Eternal Father, in order to permit all those sufferings which his human will besought his Father to spare him, to weigh upon his humanity alone. I saw this at the time when the angels, filled with compassion, were desiring to console Jesus, who, in fact, was slightly relieved at that moment. Then all disappeared, and the angels retired from our Lord, whose soul was about to sustain fresh assaults. When our Redeemer, on Mount Olivet, was pleased to experience and overcome that violent repugnance of human nature to suffering and death which constitutes a portion of all sufferings, the tempter was permitted to do to him what he does to all men who desire to sacrifice themselves in a holy cause. In the first portion of the agony, Satan displayed before the eyes of our Lord the enormity of that debt of sin which he was going to pay, and was even bold and malicious enough to seek faults in the very works of our Saviour himself. In the second agony, Jesus beheld, to its fullest extent and in all its bitterness, the expiatory suffering which would be required to satisfy Divine Justice. This was displayed to him by angels; for it belongs not to Satan to show that expiation is possible, and the father of lies and despair never exhibits the works of Divine Mercy before men. Jesus having victoriously resisted all these assaults by his entire and absolute submission to the will of his Heavenly Father, a succession of new and terrifying visions were presented before his eyes, and that feeling of doubt and anxiety which a man on the point of making some great sacrifice always experiences, arose in the soul of our Lord, as he asked himself the tremendous question: 'And what good will result from this sacrifice?' Then a most awful picture of the future was displayed before his eyes and overwhelmed his tender heart with anguish. When God had created the first Adam, he cast a deep sleep upon him, opened his side, and took one of his ribs, of which he made Eve, his wife and the mother of all the living. Then he brought her to Adam, who exclaimed: 'This now is bone of my bones, and flesh of my flesh... Wherefore a man shall leave father and mother, and shall cleave to his wife, and they shall be two in one flesh.' That was the marriage of which it is written: 'This is a great Sacrament. I speak in Christ and in the Church.' Jesus Christ, the second Adam, was pleased also to let sleep come upon him--the sleep of death on the cross, and he was also pleased to let his side be opened, in order that the second Eve, his virgin Spouse, the Church, the mother of all the living, might be formed from it. It was his will to give her the blood of redemption, the water of purification, and his spirit--the three which render testimony on earth--and to bestow upon her also the holy Sacraments, in order that she might be pure, holy, and undefiled; he was to be her head, and we were to be her members, under submission to the head, the bone of his bones, and the flesh of his flesh. In taking human nature, that he might suffer death for us, he had also left his Eternal Father, to cleave to his Spouse, the Church, and he became one flesh with her, by feeding her with the Adorable Sacrament of the Altar, in which he unites himself unceasingly with us. He had been pleased to remain on earth with his Church, until we shall all be united together by him within her fold, and he has said: 'The gates of hell shall never prevail against her.' To satisfy his unspeakable love for sinners, our Lord had become man and a brother of these same sinners, that so he might take upon himself the punishment due to all their crimes. He had contemplated with deep sorrow the greatness of this debt and the unspeakable sufferings by which it was to be acquitted. Yet he had most joyfully given himself up to the will of his Heavenly Father as a victim of expiation. Now, however, he beheld all the future sufferings, combats, and wounds of his heavenly Spouse; in one word, he beheld the ingratitude of men. The soul of Jesus beheld all the future sufferings of his Apostles, disciples, and friends; after which he saw the primitive Church, numbering but few souls in her fold at first, and then in proportion as her numbers increased, disturbed by heresies and schisms breaking out among her children, who repeated the sin of Adam by pride and disobedience. He saw the tepidity, malice and corruption of an infinite number of Christians, the lies and deceptions of proud teachers, all the sacrileges of wicked priests, the fatal consequences of each sin, and the abomination of desolation in the kingdom of God, in the sanctuary of those ungrateful human beings whom he was about to redeem with his blood at the cost of unspeakable sufferings. The scandals of all ages, down to the present day and even to the end of the world--every species of error, deception, mad fanaticism, obstinacy and malice--were displayed before his eyes, and he beheld, as it were floating before him, all the apostates, heresiarchs, and pretended reformers, who deceive men by an appearance of sanctity. The corrupters and the corrupted of all ages outraged and tormented him for not having been crucified after their fashion, or for not having suffered precisely as they settled or imagined he should have done. They vied with each other in tearing the seamless robe of his Church; many illtreated, insulted, and denied him, and many turned contemptuously away, shaking their heads at him, avoiding his compassionate embrace, and hurrying on to the abyss where they were finally swallowed up. He saw countless numbers of other men who did not dare openly to deny him, but who passed on in disgust at the sight of the wounds of his Church, as the Levite passed by the poor man who had fallen among robbers. Like unto cowardly and faithless children, who desert their mother in the middle of the night, at the sight of the thieves and robbers to whom their negligence or their malice has opened the door, they fled from his wounded Spouse. He beheld all these men, sometimes separated from the True Vine, and taking their rest amid the wild fruit trees, sometimes like lost sheep, left to the mercy of the wolves, led by base hirelings into bad pasturages, and refusing to enter the fold of the Good Shepherd who gave his life for his sheep. They were wandering homeless in the desert in the midst of the sand blown about by the wind, and were obstinately determined not to see his City placed upon a hill, which could not be hidden, the House of his Spouse, his Church built upon a rock, and with which he had promised to remain to the end of ages. They built upon the sand wretched tenements, which they were continually pulling down and rebuilding, but in which there was neither altar nor sacrifice; they had weathercocks on their roofs, and their doctrines changed with the wind, consequently they were for ever in opposition one with the other. They never could come to a mutual understanding, and were forever unsettled, often destroying their own dwellings and hurling the fragments against the Corner-Stone of the Church, which always remained unshaken. As there was nothing but darkness in the dwelling of these men, many among them, instead of directing their steps towards the Candle placed on the Candlestick in the House of the Spouse of Christ, wandered with closed eyes around the gardens of the Church, sustaining life only by inhaling the sweet odours which were diffused from them far and near, stretching forth their hands towards shadowy idols, and following wandering stars which led them to wells where there was no water. Even when on the very brink of the precipice, they refused to listen to the voice of the Spouse calling them, and, though dying with hunger, derided, insulted, and mocked at those servants and messengers who were sent to invite them to the Nuptial Feast. They obstinately refused to enter the garden, because they feared the thorns of the hedge, although they had neither wheat with which to satisfy their hunger nor wine to quench their thirst, but were simply intoxicated with pride and self-esteem, and being blinded by their own false lights, persisted in asserting that the Church of the Word made flesh was invisible. Jesus beheld them all, he wept over them, and was pleased to suffer for all those who do not see him and who will not carry their crosses after him in his City built upon a hill--his Church founded upon a rock, to which he has given himself in the Holy Eucharist, and against which the gates of Hell will never prevail. Bearing a prominent place in these mournful visions which were beheld by the soul of Jesus, I saw Satan, who dragged away and strangled a multitude of men redeemed by the blood of Christ and sanctified by the unction of his Sacrament. Our Divine Saviour beheld with bitterest anguish the ingratitude and corruption of the Christians of the first and of all succeeding ages, even to the end of the world, and during the whole of this time the voice of the tempter was incessantly repeating: 'Canst thou resolve to suffer for such ungrateful reprobates?' while the various apparitions succeeded each other with intense rapidity, and so violently weighed down and crushed the soul of Jesus, that his sacred humanity was overwhelmed with unspeakable anguish. Jesus--the Anointed of the Lord--the Son of Man struggled and writhed as he fell on his knees, with clasped hands, as it were annihilated beneath the weight of his suffering. So violent was the struggle which then took place between his human will and his repugnance to suffer so much for such an ungrateful race, that from every pore of his sacred body there burst forth large drops of blood, which fell trickling on to the ground. In his bitter agony, he looked around, as though seeking help, and appeared to take Heaven, earth, and the stars of the firmament to witness of his sufferings. Jesus, in his anguish of spirit, raised his voice, and gave utterance to several cries of pain. The three Apostles awoke, listened, and were desirous of approaching him, but Peter detained James and John, saying: 'Stay you here; I will join him.' Then I saw Peter hastily run forward and enter the grotto. 'Master,' he exclaimed, 'what has befallen thee?' But at the sight of Jesus, thus bathed in his own blood, and sinking to the ground beneath the weight of mortal fear and anguish, he drew back, and paused for a moment, overcome with terror. Jesus made him no answer, and appeared unconscious of his presence. Peter returned to the other two, and told them that the Lord had not answered him except by groans and sighs. They became more and more sorrowful after this, covered their heads, and sat down to weep and pray. I then returned to my Heavenly Spouse in his most bitter agony. The frightful visions of the future ingratitude of the men whose debt to Divine Justice he was taking upon himself, continued to become more and more vivid and tremendous. Several times I heard him exclaim: 'O my Father, can I possibly suffer for so ungrateful a race? O my Father, if this chalice may not pass from me, but I must drink it, thy will be done!' Amid all these apparitions, Satan held a conspicuous place, under various forms, which represented different species of sins. Sometimes he appeared under the form of a gigantic black figure, sometimes under those of a tiger, a fox, a wolf, a dragon, or a serpent. Not, however, that he really took any of these shapes, but merely some one of their characteristics, joined with other hideous forms. None of these frightful apparitions entirely resembled any creature, but were symbols of abomination, discord, contradiction, and sin--in one word, were demoniacal to the fullest extent. These diabolical figures urged on, dragged, and tore to pieces, before the very eyes of Jesus, countless numbers of those men for whose redemption he was entering upon the painful way of the Cross. At first I but seldom saw the serpent: soon, however, it made its appearance, with a crown upon its head. This odious reptile was of gigantic size, apparently possessed of unbounded strength, and led forward countless legions of the enemies of Jesus in every age and of every nation. Being armed with all kinds of destructive weapons, they sometimes tore one another in pieces, and then renewed their attacks upon our Saviour with redoubled rage. It was indeed an awful sight; for they heaped upon him the most fearful outrages, cursing, striking, wounding, and tearing him in pieces. Their weapons, swords, and spears flew about in the air, crossing and recrossing continually in all directions, like the flails of threshers in an immense barn; and the rage of each of these fiends seemed exclusively directed against Jesus--that grain of heavenly wheat descended to the earth to die there, in order to feed men eternally with the Bread of Life. Thus exposed to the fury of these hellish bands, some of which appeared to me wholly composed of blind men, Jesus was as much wounded and bruised as if their blows had been real. I saw him stagger from side to side, sometimes raising himself up, and sometimes falling again, while the serpent, in the midst of the crowds whom it was unceasingly leading forward against Jesus, struck the ground with its tail, and tore to pieces or swallowed all whom it thus knocked to the ground. It was made known to me that these apparitions were all those persons who in divers ways insult and outrage Jesus, really and truly present in the Holy Sacrament. I recognised among them all those who in any way profane the Blessed Eucharist. I beheld with horror all the outrages thus offered to our Lord, whether by neglect, irreverence, and omission of what was due to him; by open contempt, abuse, and the most awful sacrileges; by the worship of worldly idols; by spiritual darkness and false knowledge; or, finally, by error, incredulity, fanaticism, hatred, and open persecution. Among these men I saw many who were blind, paralysed, deaf, and dumb, and even children;--blind men who would not see the truth; paralytic men who would not advance, according to its directions, on the road leading to eternal live; deaf men who refused to listen to its warnings and threats; dumb men who would never use their voices in its defence; and, finally, children who were led astray by following parents and teachers filled with the love of the world and forgetfulness of God, who were fed on earthly luxuries, drunk with false wisdom, and loathing all that pertained to religion. Among the latter, the sight of whom grieved me especially, because Jesus so loved children, I saw many irreverent, ill-behaved acolytes, who did not honour our Lord in the holy ceremonies in which they took a part. I beheld with terror that many priests, some of whom even fancied themselves full of faith and piety, also outraged Jesus in the Adorable Sacrament. I saw many who believed and taught the doctrine of the Real Presence, but did not sufficiently take it to heart, for they forgot and neglected the palace, throne, and seat of the Living God, that is to say, the church, the altar, the tabernacle, the chalice, the monstrance, the vases and ornaments; in one word, all that is used in his worship, or to adorn his house. Entire neglect reigned everywhere, all things were left to moulder away in dust and filth, and the worship of God was, if not inwardly profaned, at least outwardly dishonoured. Nor did this arise from real poverty, but from indifference, sloth, preoccupation of mind about vain earthly concerns, and often also from egotism and spiritual death; for I saw neglect of this kind in churches the pastors and congregations of which were rich, or at east tolerably well off. I saw many others in which worldly, tasteless, unsuitable ornaments had replaced the magnificent adornments of a more pious age. I saw that often the poorest of men were better lodged in their cottages than the Master of heaven and earth in his churches. Ah, how deeply did the inhospitality of men grieve Jesus, who had given himself to them to be their Food! Truly, there is no need to be rich in order to receive him who rewards a hundredfold the glass of cold water given to the thirsty; but how shameful is not our conduct when in giving drink to the Divine Lord, who thirst for our souls, we give him corrupted water in a filthy glass! In consequence of all this neglect, I saw the weak scandalised, the Adorable Sacrament profaned, the churches deserted, and the priests despised. This state of impurity and negligence extended even to the souls of the faithful, who left the tabernacle of their hearts unprepared and uncleansed when Jesus was about to enter them, exactly the same as they left his tabernacle on the altar. Were I to speak for an entire year, I would never detail all the insults offered to Jesus in the Adorable Sacrament which were made known to me in this way. I saw their authors assault Jesus in bands, and strike him with different arms, corresponding to their various offences. I saw irreverent Christians of all ages, careless or sacrilegious priests, crowds of tepid and unworthy communicants, wicked soldiers profaning the sacred vessels, and servants of the devil making use of the Holy Eucharist in the frightful mysteries of hellish worship. Among these bands I saw a great number of theologians, who had been drawn into heresy by their sins, attacking Jesus in the Holy Sacrament of his Church, and snatching out of his Heart, by their seductive words and promises, a number of souls for whom he had shed his blood. Ah! it was indeed an awful sight, for I saw the Church as the body of Christ; and all these bands of men, who were separating themselves from the Church, mangled and tore off whole pieces of his living flesh. Alas! he looked at them in the most touching manner, and lamented that they should thus cause their own eternal loss. He had given his own divine Self to us for our Food in the Holy Sacrament, in order to unite in one body--that of the Church, his Spouse--men who were to an infinite extent divided and separated from each other; and now he beheld himself torn and rent in twain in that very body; for his principal work of love, the Holy Communion, in which men should have been made wholly one, was become, by the malice of false teachers, the subject of separation. I beheld whole nations thus snatched out of his bosom, and deprived of any participation in the treasure of graces left to the Church. Finally, I saw all who were separated from the Church plunged into the depths of infidelity, superstition, heresy, and false worldly philosophy; and they gave vent to their fierce rage by joining together in large bodies to attack the Church, being urged on by the serpent which was disporting itself in the midst of them. Alas! it was as though Jesus himself had been torn in a thousand pieces! So great was my horror and terror, that my Heavenly Spouse appeared to me, and mercifully placed his hand upon my heart, saying: 'No one has yet seen all these things, and thy heart would burst with sorrow if I did not give thee strength.' I saw the blood flowing in large drops down the pale face of our Saviour, his hair matted together, and his beard bloody and entangled. After the vision which I have last described, he fled, so to speak, out of the cave, and returned to his disciples. But he tottered as he walked; his appearance was that of a man covered with wounds and bending beneath a heavy burden, and he stumbled at every step. When he came up to the three Apostles, they were not lying down asleep as they had been the first time, but their heads were covered, and they had sunk down on their knees, in an attitude often assumed by the people of that country when in sorrow or desiring to pray. They had fallen asleep, overpowered by grief and fatigue. Jesus, trembling and groaning, drew nigh to them, and they awoke. But when, by the light of the moon, they saw him standing before them, his face pale and bloody, and his hair in disorder, their weary eyes did not at the first moment recognise him, for he was indescribably changed. He clasped his hands together, upon which they arose and lovingly supported him in their arms, and he told them in sorrowful accents that the next day he should be put to death,--that in one hour's time he should be seized, led before a tribunal, maltreated, outraged, scourged, and finally put to a most cruel death. He besought them to console his Mother, and also Magdalen. They made no reply, for they knew not what to say, so greatly had his appearance and language alarmed them, and they even thought his mind must be wandering. When he desired to return to the grotto, he had not strength to walk. I saw John and James lead him back, and return when he had entered the grotto. It was then about a quarter-past eleven. During this agony of Jesus, I saw the Blessed Virgin also overwhelmed with sorrow and anguish of soul, in the house of Mary, the mother of Mark. She was with Magdalen and Mary in the garden belonging to the house, and almost prostrate from grief, with her whole body bowed down as she knelt. She fainted several times, for she beheld in spirit different portions of the agony of Jesus. She had sent some messengers to make inquiries concerning him, but her deep anxiety would not suffer her to await their return, and she went with Magdalen and Salome as far as the Valley of Josaphat. She walked along with her head veiled, and her arms frequently stretched forth towards Mount Olivet; for she beheld in spirit Jesus bathed in a bloody sweat, and her gestures were as though she wished with her extended hands to wipe the face of her Son. I saw these interior movements of her soul towards Jesus, who thought of her, and turned his eyes in her direction, as if to seek her assistance. I beheld the spiritual communication which they had with each other, under the form of rays passing to and fro between them. Our Divine Lord thought also of Magdalen, was touched by her distress, and therefore recommended his Apostles to console her; for he knew that her love for his adorable Person was greater than that felt for him by any one save his Blessed Mother, and he foresaw that she would suffer much for his sake, and never offend him more. About this time, the eight Apostles returned to the arbour of Gethsemani, and after talking together for some time, ended by going to sleep. They were wavering, discouraged, and sorely tempted. They had each been seeking for a place of refuge in case of danger, and they anxiously asked one another, 'What shall we do when they have put him to death? We have left all to follow him; we are poor and the offscouring of the world, we gave ourselves up entirely to his service, and now he is so sorrowful and so defected himself, that he can afford us no consolation.' The other disciples had at first wandered about in various directions, but then, having heard something concerning the awful prophecies which Jesus had made, they had nearly all retired to Bethphage. I saw Jesus still praying in the grotto, struggling against the repugnance to suffering which belonged to human nature, and abandoning himself wholly to the will of this Eternal Father. Here the abyss opened before him, and he had a vision of the first part of Limbo. He saw Adam and Eve, the patriarchs, prophets, and just men, the parents of his Mother, and John the Baptist, awaiting his arrival in the lower world with such intense longing, that the sight strengthened and gave fresh courage to his loving heart. His death was to open Heaven to these captives,--his death was to deliver them out of that prison in which they were languishing in eager hope! When Jesus had, with deep emotion, looked upon these saints of antiquity, angels presented to him all the bands of saints of future ages, who, joining their labours to the merits of his Passion, were, through him, to be united to his Heavenly Father. Most beautiful and consoling was this vision, in which he beheld the salvation and sanctification flowing forth in ceaseless streams from the fountain of redemption opened by his death. The Apostles, disciples, virgins, and holy women, the martyrs, confessors, hermits, popes, and bishops, and large bands of religious of both sexes--in one word, the entire army of the blessed--appeared before him. All bore on their heads triumphal crowns, and the flowers of their crowns differed in form, in colour, in odour, and in perfection, according to the difference of the sufferings, labours and victories which had procured them eternal glory. Their whole life, and all their actions, merits, and power, as well as all the glory of their triumph, came solely from their union with the merits of Jesus Christ. The reciprocal influence exercised by these saints upon each other, and the manner in which they all drank from one sole Fountain--the Adorable Sacrament and the Passion of our Lord--formed a most touching and wonderful spectacle. Nothing about them was devoid of deep meaning,--their works, martyrdom, victories, appearance, and dress,--all, though indescribably varied, was confused together in infinite harmony and unity; and this unity in diversity was produced by the rays of one single Sun, by the Passion of the Lord, of the Word made flesh, in whom was life, the light of men, which shined in darkness, and the darkness did not comprehend it. The army of the future saints passed before the soul of our Lord, which was thus placed between the desiring patriarchs, and the triumphant band of the future blessed, and these two armies joining together, and completing one another, so to speak, surrounded the loving Heart of our Saviour as with a crown of victory. This most affecting and consoling spectacle bestowed a degree of strength and comfort upon the soul of Jesus. Ah! He so loved his brethren and creatures that, to accomplish the redemption of one single soul, he would have accepted with joy all the sufferings to which he was now devoting himself. As these visions referred to the future, they were diffused to a certain height in the air. But these consoling visions faded away, and the angels displayed before him the scenes of his Passion quite close to the earth, because it was near at hand. I beheld every scene distinctly portrayed, from the kiss of Judas to the last words of Jesus on the cross, and I saw in this single vision all that I see in my meditations on the Passion. The treason of Judas, the flight of the disciples, the insults which were offered our Lord before Annas and Caiphas, Peter's denial, the tribunal of Pilate, Herod's mockery, the scourging and crowning with thorns, the condemnation to death, the carrying of the cross, the linen cloth presented by Veronica, the crucifixion, the insults of the Pharisees, the sorrows of Mary, of Magdalen, and of John, the wound of the lance in his side, after death;--in one word, every part of the Passion was shown to him in the minutest detail. He accepted all voluntarily, submitting to everything for the love of man. He saw also and felt the sufferings endured at that moment by his Mother, whose interior union with his agony was so entire that she had fainted in the arms of her two friends. When the visions of the Passion were concluded, Jesus fell on his face like one at the point of death; the angels disappeared, and the bloody sweat became more copious, so that I saw it had soaked his garment. Entire darkness reigned in the cavern, when I beheld an angel descent to Jesus. This angel was of higher stature than any whom I had before beheld, and his form was also more distinct and more resembling that of a man. He was clothed like a priest in a long floating garment, and bore before him, in his hands, a small vase, in shape resembling the chalice used at the Last Supper. At the top of this chalice, there was a small oval body, about the size of a bean, and which diffused a reddish light. The angel, without touching the earth with his feet, stretched forth his right hand to Jesus, who arose, when he placed the mysterious food in his mouth, and gave him to drink from the luminous chalice. Then he disappeared. Jesus having freely accepted the chalice of his sufferings, and received new strength, remained some minutes longer in the grotto, absorbed in calm meditation, and returning thanks to his Heavenly Father. He was still in deep affliction of spirit, but supernaturally comforted to such a degree as to be able to go to his disciples without tottering as he walked, or bending beneath the weight of his sufferings. His countenance was still pale and altered, but his step was firm and determined. He had wiped his face with a linen cloth, and rearranged his hair, which hung about his shoulders, matted together and damp with blood. When Jesus came to his disciples, they were lying, as before, against the wall of the terrace, asleep, and with their heads covered. Our Lord told them that then was not the time for sleep, but that they should arise and pray: 'Behold the hour is at hand, and the Son of Man shall be betrayed into the hand of sinners,' he said: 'Arise, let us go, behold he is at hand that will betray me. It were better for him, if that man had not been born.' The Apostles arose in much alarm, and looked round with anxiety. When they had somewhat recovered themselves, Peter said warmly: 'Lord, I will call the others, that so we may defend thee.' But Jesus pointed out to them at some distance in the valley, on the other side of the Brook of Cedron, a band of armed men, who were advancing with torches, and he said that one of their number had betrayed him. He spoke calmly, exhorted them to console his Mother, and said: 'Let us go to meet them--I shall deliver myself up without resistance into the hands of my enemies.' He then left the Garden of Olives with the three Apostles, and went to meet the archers on the road which led from that garden to Gethsemani. When the Blessed Virgin, under the care of Magdalen and Salome, recovered her senses, some disciples, who had seen the soldiers approaching, conducted her back to the house of Mary, the mother of Mark. The archers took a shorter road than that which Jesus followed when he left the supper-room. The grotto in which Jesus had this day prayed was not the one where he usually prayed on Mount Olivet. He commonly went to a cabin at a greater distance off, where, one day, after having cursed the barren fig-tree, he had prayed in great affliction of spirit, with his arms stretched out, and leaning against a rock. The traces of his body and hands remained impressed on the stone, and were honoured later. But it was not known on what occasion the miracle had taken place. I have several times seen similar impressions left upon the stone, either by the Prophets of the Old Testament, or by Jesus, Mary, or some of the Apostles, and I have also seen those made by the body of St. Catherine on Mount Sinai. These impressions do not seem deep, but resemble what would be made upon a thick piece of dough, if a person leaned his hand upon it. CHAPTER II. Judas and his band. Judas had not expected that his treason would have produced such fatal results. He had been anxious to obtain the promised reward, and to please the Pharisees by delivering up Jesus into their hands, but he had never calculated on things going so far, or thought that the enemies of his Master would actually bring him to judgment and crucify him; his mind was engrossed with the love of gain alone, and some astute Pharisees and Sadducees, with whom he had established an intercourse, had constantly urged him on to treason by flattering him. He was sick of the fatiguing, wandering, and persecuted life which the Apostles led. For several months past he had continually stolen from the alms which were consigned to his care, and his avarice, grudging the expenses incurred by Magdalen when she poured the precious ointment on the feet of our Lord, incited him to the commission of the greatest of crimes. He had always hoped that Jesus would establish a temporal kingdom, and bestow upon him some brilliant and lucrative post in it, but finding himself disappointed, he turned his thoughts to amassing a fortune. He saw that sufferings and persecutions were on the increase for our Lord and his followers, and he sought to make friends with the powerful enemies of our Saviour before the time of danger, for the saw that Jesus did not become a king, whereas the actual dignity and power of the High Priest, and of all who were attached to his service, made a very strong impression upon his mind. He began to enter by degrees into a close connection with their agents, who were constantly flattering him, and assuring him in strong terms that, in any case, an end would speedily be put to the career of our Divine Lord. He listened more and more eagerly to the criminal suggestions of his corrupt heart, and he had done nothing during the last few days but go backwards and forwards in order to induce the chief priests to come to some agreement. But they were unwilling to act at once, and treated him with contempt. They said that sufficient time would not intervene before the festival day, and that there would be a tumult among the people. The Sanhedrin alone listened to his proposals with some degree of attention. After Judas had sacrilegiously received the Blessed Sacrament, Satan took entire possession of him, and he went off at once to complete his crime. He in the first place sought those persons who had hitherto flattered and entered into agreements with him, and who still received him with pretended friendship. Some others joined the party, and among the number Annas and Caiphas, but the latter treated him with considerable pride and scorn. All these enemies of Christ were extremely undecided and far from feeling any confidence of success, because they mistrusted Judas. I saw the empire of Hell divided against itself; Satan desired the crime of the Jews, and earnestly longed for the death of Jesus, the Converter of souls, the holy Teacher, the Just Man, who was so abhorrent to him; but at the same time he felt an extraordinary interior fear of the death of the innocent Victim, who would not conceal himself from his persecutors. I saw him then, on the one hand, stimulate the hatred and fury of the enemies of Jesus, and on the other, insinuate to some of their number that Judas was a wicked; despicable character, and that the sentence could not be pronounced before the festival, or a sufficient number of witnesses against Jesus be gathered together. Everyone proposed something different, and some questioned Judas, saying: 'Shall we be able to take him? Has he not armed men with him?' And the traitor replied: 'No, he is alone with eleven disciples; he is greatly depressed, and the eleven are timid men.' He told them that now or never was the time to get possession of the person of Jesus, that later he might no longer have it in his power to give our Lord up into their hands, and that perhaps he should never return to him again, because for several days past it had been very clear that the other disciples and Jesus himself suspected and would certainly kill him if he returned to them. He told them likewise that if they did not at once seize the person of Jesus, he would make his escape, and return with an army of his partisans, to have himself proclaimed King. These threats of Judas produced some effect, his proposals were acceded to, and he received the price of this treason--thirty pieces of silver. These pieces were oblong, with holes in their sides, strung together by means of rings in a kind of chain, and bearing certain impressions. Judas could not help being conscious that they regarded him with contempt and distrust, for their language and gestures betrayed their feelings, and pride suggested to him to give back the money as an offering for the Temple, in order to make them suppose his intentions to have been just and disinterested. But they rejected his proposal, because the price of blood could not be offered in the Temple. Judas saw how much they despised him, and his rage was excessive. He had not expected to reap the bitter fruits of his treason even before it was accomplished, but he had gone so far with these men that he was in their power, and escape was no longer possible. They watched him carefully, and would not let him leave their presence, until he had shown them exactly what steps were to be taken in order to secure the person of Jesus. Three Pharisees accompanied him when he went down into a room where the soldiers of the Temple (some only of whom were Jews, and the rest of various nations) were assembled. When everything was settled, and the necessary number of soldiers gathered together, Judas hastened first to the supper-room, accompanied by a servant of the Pharisees, for the purpose of ascertaining whether Jesus had left, as they would have seized his person there without difficulty, if once they had secured the doors. He agreed to send them a messenger with the required information. A short time before when Judas had received the price of this treason, a Pharisee had gone out, and sent seven slaves to fetch wood with which to prepare the Cross for our Saviour, in case he should be judged, because the next day there would not be sufficient time on account of the commencement of the Paschal festivity. They procured this wood from a spot about three-quarters of a mile distant, near a high wall, where there was a great quantity of other wood belonging to the Temple, and dragged it to a square situated behind the tribunal of Caiphas. The principal piece of the Cross came from a tree formerly growing in the Valley of Josaphat, near the torrent of Cedron, and which, having fallen across the stream, had been used as a sort of bridge. When Nehemias hid the sacred fire and the holy vessels in the pool of Bethsaida, it had been thrown over the spot, together with other pieces of wood,--then later taken away, and left on one side. The Cross was prepared in a very peculiar manner, either with the object of deriding the royalty of Jesus, or from what men might term chance. It was composed of five pieces of wood, exclusive of the inscription. I saw many other things concerning the Cross, and the meaning of different circumstances was also made known to me, but I have forgotten all that. Judas returned, and said that Jesus was no longer in the supper-room, but that he must certainly be on Mount Olivet, in the spot where he was accustomed to pray. He requested that only a small number of men might be sent with him, lest the disciples who were on the watch should perceive anything and raise a sedition. Three hundred men were to be stationed at the gates and in the streets of Ophel, a part of the town situated to the south of the Temple, and along the valley of Millo as far as the house of Annas, on the top of Mount Sion, in order to be ready to send reinforcements if necessary, for, he said, all the people of the lower class of Ophel were partisans of Jesus. The traitor likewise bade them be careful, lest he should escape them--since he, by mysterious means, had so often hidden himself in the mountain, and made himself suddenly invisible to those around. He recommended them, besides, to fasten him with a chain, and make use of certain magical forms to prevent his breaking it. The Jews listened to all these pieces of advice with scornful indifference, and replied, 'If we once have him in our hands, we will take care not to let him go.' Judas next began to make his arrangements with those who were to accompany him. He wished to enter the garden before them, and embrace and salute Jesus as if he were returning to him as his friend and disciple, and then for the soldiers to run forward and seize the person of Jesus. He was anxious that it should be thought they had come there by chance, that so, when they had made their appearance, he might run away like the other disciples and be no more heard of. He likewise thought that, perhaps, a tumult would ensue, that the Apostles might defend themselves, and Jesus pass through the midst of his enemies, as he had so often done before. He dwelt upon these thoughts especially, when his pride was hurt by the disdainful manner of the Jews in his regard; but he did not repent, for he had wholly given himself up to Satan. It was his desire also that the soldiers following him should not carry chains and cords, and his accomplices pretended to accede to all his wishes, although in reality they acted with him as with a traitor who was not to be trusted, but to be cast off as soon as he had done what was wanted. The soldiers received orders to keep close to Judas, watch him carefully, and not let him escape until Jesus was seized, for he had received his reward, and it was feared that he might run off with the money, and Jesus not be taken after all, or another be taken in his place. The band of men chosen to accompany Judas was composed of twenty soldiers, selected from the Temple guard and from others of the military who were under the orders of Annas and Caiphas. They were dressed very much like the Roman soldiers, had morions (crested metal helmets) like them, and wore hanging straps round their thighs, but their beards were long, whereas the Roman soldiers at Jerusalem had whiskers only, and shaved their chins and upper lips. They all had swords, some of them being also armed with spears, and they carried sticks with lanterns and torches; but when they set off they only lighted one. It had at first been intended that Judas should be accompanied by a more numerous escort, but he drew their attention to the fact that so large a number of men would be too easily seen, because Mount Olivet commanded a view of the whole valley. Most of the soldiers remained, therefore, at Ophel, and sentinels were stationed on all sides to put down any attempt which might be made to release Jesus. Judas set off with the twenty soldiers, but he was followed at some distance by four archers, who were only common bailiffs, carrying cords and chains, and after them came the six agents with whom Judas had been in communication for some time. One of these was a priest and a confidant of Annas, a second was devoted to Caiphas, the third and fourth were Pharisees, and the other two Sadducees and Herodians. These six men were courtiers of Annas and Caiphas, acting in the capacity of spies, and most bitter enemies of Jesus. The soldiers remained on friendly terms with Judas until they reached the spot where the road divides the Garden of Olives from the Garden of Gethsemani, but there they refused to allow him to advance alone, and entirely changed their manner, treating him with much insolence and harshness. CHAPTER III. Jesus is arrested. Jesus was standing with his three Apostles on the road between Gethsemani, and the Garden of Olives, when Judas and the band who accompanied him made their appearance. A warm dispute arose between Judas and the soldiers, because he wished to approach first and speak to Jesus quietly as if nothing was the matter, and then for them to come up and seize our Saviour, thus letting him suppose that he had no connection with the affair. But the men answered rudely, 'Not so, friend, thou shalt not escape from our hands until we have the Galilean safely bound,' and seeing the eight Apostles who hastened to rejoin Jesus when they heard the dispute which was going on, they (notwithstanding the opposition of Judas) called up four archers, whom they had left at a little distance, to assist. When by the light of the moon Jesus and the three Apostles first saw the band of armed men, Peter wished to repel them by force of arms, and said: 'Lord, the other eight are close at hand, let us attack the archers,' but Jesus bade him hold his peace, and then turned and walked back a few steps. At this moment four disciples came out of the garden, and asked what was taking place. Judas was about to reply, but the soldiers interrupted, and would not let him speak. These four disciples were James the Less, Philip, Thomas, and Nathaniel; the last named, who was a son of the aged Simeon, had with a few others joined the eight Apostles at Gethsemani, being perhaps sent by the friends of Jesus to know what was going on, or possibly simply incited by curiosity and anxiety. The other disciples were wandering to and fro, on the look out, and ready to fly at a moment's notice. Jesus walked up to the soldiers and said in a firm and clear voice, 'Whom seek ye?' The soldiers answered, 'Jesus of Nazareth.' Jesus said to them, 'I am he.' Scarcely had he pronounced these words than they all fell to the ground, as if struck with apoplexy. Judas, who stood by them, was much alarmed, and as he appeared desirous of approaching, Jesus held out his hand and said: 'Friend, whereto art thou come?' Judas stammered forth something about business which had brought him. Jesus answered in few words, the sense of which was: 'It were better for thee that thou hadst never been born;' however, I cannot remember the words exactly. In the mean time, the soldiers had risen, and again approached Jesus, but they waited for the sign of the kiss, with which Judas had promised to salute his Master that they might recognise him. Peter and the other disciples surrounded Judas, and reviled him in unmeasured terms, calling him thief and traitor; he tried to mollify their wrath by all kinds of lies, but his efforts were vain, for the soldiers came up and offered to defend him, which proceeding manifested the truth at once. Jesus again asked, 'Whom seek ye?' They replied: 'Jesus of Nazareth.' Jesus made answer, 'I have told you that I am he,' 'if therefore you seek me, let these go their way.' At these words the soldiers fell for the second time to the ground, in convulsions similar to those of epilepsy, and the Apostles again surrounded Judas and expressed their indignation at his shameful treachery. Jesus said to the soldiers, 'Arise,' and they arose, but at first quite speechless from terror. They then told Judas to give them the signal agreed upon instantly, as their orders were to seize upon no one but him whom Judas kissed. Judas therefore approached Jesus, and gave him a kiss, saying, 'Hail Rabbi.' Jesus replied, 'What, Judas, dost thou betray the Son of Man with a kiss?' The soldiers immediately surrounded Jesus, and the archers laid hands upon him. Judas wished to fly, but the Apostles would not allow it, they rushed at the soldiers and cried out, 'Master, shall we strike with the sword?' Peter, who was more impetuous than the rest, seized the sword, and struck Malchus, the servant of the high priest, who wished to drive away the Apostles, and cut off his right ear; Malchus fell to the ground, and a great tumult ensued. The archers had seized upon Jesus, and wished to bind him; while Malchus and the rest of the soldiers stood around. When Peter struck the former, the rest were occupied in repulsing those among the disciples who approached too near, and in pursuing those who ran away. Four disciples made their appearance in the distance, and looked fearfully at the scene before them; but the soldiers were still too much alarmed at their late fall to trouble themselves much about them, and besides they did not wish to leave our Saviour without a certain number of men to guard him. Judas fled as soon as he had given the traitorous kiss, but was met by some of the disciples, who overwhelmed him with reproaches. Six Pharisees, however, came to his rescue, and he escaped whilst the archers were busily occupied in pinioning Jesus. When Peter struck Malchus, Jesus said to him, 'Put up again thy sword into its place; for all that take the sword shall perish with the sword. Thinkest thou that I cannot ask my Father, and he will give me presently more than twelve legions of angels? How then shall the Scriptures be fulfilled, that so it must be done?' Then he said, 'Let me cure this man;' and approaching Malchus, he touched his ear, prayed, and it wad healed. The soldiers who were standing near, as well as the archers and the six Pharisees, far from being moved by this miracle, continued to insult our Lord, and said to the bystanders, 'It is a trick of the devil, the powers of witchcraft made the ear appear to be cut off, and now the same power gives it the appearance of being healed.' Then Jesus again addressed them, 'You are come out as it were to a robber, with swords and clubs, to apprehend me. I sat daily with you teaching in the Temple, and you laid not hands upon me, but this is your hour and the power of darkness.' The Pharisees ordered him to be bound still more strongly, and made answer in a contemptuous tone, 'Ah! Thou couldst not overthrow us by thy witchcraft.' Jesus replied, but I do not remember his words, and all the disciples fled. The four archers and the six Pharisees did not fall to the ground at the words of Jesus, because, as was afterwards revealed to me, they as well as Judas, who likewise did not fall, were entirely in the power of Satan, whereas all those who fell and rose again were afterwards converted, and became Christians; they had only surrounded Jesus, and not laid hands upon him. Malchus was instantly converted by the cure wrought upon him, and during the time of the Passion his employment was to carry messages backwards and forwards to Mary and the other friends of our Lord. The archers, who now proceeded to pinion Jesus with the greatest brutality, were pagans of the lowest extraction, short, stout, and active, with sandy complexions, resembling those of Egyptian slaves, and bare legs, arms, and neck. They tied his hands as tightly as possible with hard new cords, fastening the right-hand wrist under the left elbow, and the left-hand wrist under the right elbow. They encircled his waist with a species of belt studded with iron points, and to this collar were appended two leathern straps, which were crossed over his chest like a stole and fastened to the belt. They then fastened four ropes to different parts of the belt, and by means of these ropes dragged our Blessed Lord from side to side in the most cruel manner. The ropes were new; I think they were purchased when the Pharisees first determined to arrest Jesus. The Pharisees lighted fresh torches, and the procession started. Ten soldiers walked in front, the archers who held the ropes and dragged Jesus along, followed, and the Pharisees and ten other soldiers brought up the rear. The disciples wandered about at a distance, and wept and moaned as if beside themselves from grief. John alone followed, and walked at no great distance from the soldiers, until the Pharisees, seeing him, ordered the guards to arrest him. They endeavoured to obey, but he ran away, leaving in their hands a cloth with which he was covered, and of which they had taken hold when they endeavoured to seize him. He had slipped off his coat, that he might escape more easily from the hands of his enemies, and kept nothing on but a short under garment without sleeves, and the long band which the Jews usually wore, and which was wrapped round his neck, head, and arms. The archers behaved in the most cruel manner to Jesus as they led him along; this they did to curry favour with the six Pharisees, who they well knew perfectly hated and detested our Lord. They led him along the roughest road they could select, over the sharpest stones, and through the thickest mire; they pulled the cords as tightly as possible; they struck him with knotted cords, as a butcher would strike the beast he is about to slaughter; and they accompanied this cruel treatment with such ignoble and indecent insults that I cannot recount them. The feet of Jesus were bare; he wore, besides the ordinary dress, a seamless woollen garment, and a cloak which was thrown over all. I have forgotten to state that when Jesus was arrested, it was done without any order being presented or legal ceremony taking place; he was treated as a person without the pale of the law. The procession proceeded at a good pace; when they left the road which runs between the Garden of Olives and that of Gethsemani, they turned to the right, and soon reached a bridge which was thrown over the Torrent of Cedron. When Jesus went to the Garden of Olives with the Apostles, he did not cross this bridge, but went by a private path which ran through the Valley of Josaphat, and led to another bridge more to the south. The bridge over which the soldiers led Jesus was long, being thrown over not only the torrent, which was very large in this part, but likewise over the valley, which extends a considerable distance to the right and to the left, and is much lower than the bed of the river. I saw our Lord fall twice before he reached the bridge, and these falls were caused entirely by the barbarous manner in which the soldiers dragged him; but when they were half over the bridge they gave full vent to their brutal inclination, and struck Jesus with such violence that they threw him off the bridge into the water, and scornfully recommended him to quench his thirst there. If God had not preserved him, he must have been killed by this fall; he fell first on his knee, and then on his face, but saved himself a little by stretching out his hands, which, although so tightly bound before, were loosened, I know not whether by miracle, or whether the soldiers had cut the cords before they threw him into the water. The marks of his feet, his elbows, and his fingers were miraculously impressed on the rock on which he fell, and these impressions were afterwards shown for the veneration of Christians. These stones were less hard than the unbelieving hearts of the wicked men who surrounded Jesus, and bore witness at this terrible moment to the Divine Power which had touched them. I had not seen Jesus take anything to quench the thirst which had consumed him ever since his agony in the garden, but he drank when he fell into the Cedron, and I heard him repeat these words from the prophetic Psalm, 'In his thirst he will drink water from the torrent' (Psalm 108). The archers still held the ends of the ropes with which Jesus was bound, but it would have been difficult to drag him out of the water on that side, on account of a wall which was built on the shore; they turned back and dragged him quite through the Cedron to the shore, and then made him cross the bridge a second time, accompanying their every action with insults, blasphemies, and blows. His long woollen garment, which was quite soaked through, adhered to his legs, impeded every movement, and rendered it almost impossible for him to walk, and when he reached the end of the bridge he fell quite down. They pulled him up again in the most cruel manner, struck him with cords, and fastened the ends of his wet garment to the belt, abusing him at the same time in the most cowardly manner. It was not quite midnight when I saw the four archers inhumanly dragging Jesus over a narrow path, which was choked up with stones, garments of rock, thistles, and thorns, on the opposite shore of the Cedron. The six brutal Pharisees walked as close to our Lord as they could, struck him constantly with thick pointed sticks, and seeing that his bare and bleeding feet were torn by the stones and briars, exclaimed scornfully: 'His precursor, John the Baptist, has certainly not prepared a good path for him here;' or, 'The words of Malachy, "Behold, I send my angel before thy face, to prepare the way before thee," do not exactly apply now.' Every jest uttered by these men incited the archers to greater cruelty. The enemies of Jesus remarked that several persons made their appearance in the distance; they were only disciples who had assembled when they heard that their Master was arrested, and who were anxious to discover what the end would be; but the sight of them rendered the Pharisees uneasy, lest any attempt should be made to rescue Jesus, and they therefore sent for a reinforcement of soldiers. At a very short distance from an entrance opposite to the south side of the Temple, which leads through a little village called Ophel to Mount Sion, where the residences of Annas and Caiphas were situated, I saw a band of about fifty soldiers, who carried torches, and appeared ready for anything; the demeanour of these men was outrageous, and they gave loud shouts, both to announce their arrival, and to congratulate their comrades upon the success of the expedition. This caused a slight confusion among the soldiers who were leading Jesus, and Malchus and a few others took advantage of it to depart, and fly towards Mount Olivet. When the fresh band of soldiers left Ophel, I saw those disciples who had gathered together disperse; some went one way, and some another. The Blessed Virgin and about nine of the holy women, being filled with anxiety, directed their steps towards the Valley of Josaphat, accompanied by Lazarus, John the son of Mark, the son of Veronica, and the son of Simon. The last-named was at Gethsemani with Nathaniel and the eight Apostles, and had fled when the soldiers appeared. He was giving the Blessed Virgin the account of all that had been done, when the fresh band of soldiers joined those who were leading Jesus, and she then heard their tumultuous vociferations, and saw the light of the torches they carried. This sight quite overcame her; she became insensible, and John took her into the house of Mary, the mother of Mark. The fifty soldiers who were sent to join those who had taken Jesus, were a detachment from a company of three hundred men posted to guard the gates and environs of Ophel; for the traitor Judas had reminded the High Priests that the inhabitants of Ophel (who were principally of the labouring class, and whose chief employment was to bring water and wood to the Temple) were the most attached partisans of Jesus, and might perhaps make some attempts to rescue him. The traitor was aware that Jesus had both consoled, instructed, assisted, and cured the diseases of many of these poor workmen, and that Ophel was the place where he halted during his journey from Bethania to Hebron, when John the Baptist had just been executed. Judas also knew that Jesus had cured many of the masons who were injured by the fall of the Tower of Siloe. The greatest part of the inhabitants of Ophel were converted after the death of our Lord, and joined the first Christian community that was formed after Pentecost, and when the Christians separated from the Jews and erected new dwellings, they placed their huts and tents in the valley which is situated between Mount Olivet and Ophel, and there St. Stephen lived. Ophel was on a hill to the south of the Temple, surrounded by walls, and its inhabitants were very poor. I think it was smaller than Dulmen.9 The slumbers of the good inhabitants of Ophel were disturbed by the noise of the soldiers; they came out of their houses and ran to the entrance of the village to ask the cause of the uproar; but the soldiers received them roughly, ordered them to return home, and in reply to their numerous questions, said, 'We have just arrested Jesus, your false prophet--he who has deceived you so grossly; the High Priests are about to judge him, and he will be crucified.' Cries and lamentations arose on all sides; the poor women and children ran backwards and forwards, weeping and wringing their hands; and calling to mind all the benefits they had received from our Lord, they cast themselves on their knees to implore the protection of Heaven. But the soldiers pushed them on one side, struck them, obliged them to return to their houses, and exclaimed, 'What farther proof is required? Does not the conduct of these persons show plainly that the Galilean incites rebellion?' They were, however, a little cautious in their expressions and demeanour for fear of causing an insurrection in Ophel, and therefore only endeavoured to drive the inhabitants away from those parts of the village which Jesus was obliged to cross. When the cruel soldiers who led our Lord were near the gates of Ophel he again fell, and appeared unable to proceed a step farther, upon which one among them, being moved to compassion, said to another, 'You see the poor man is perfectly exhausted, he cannot support himself with the weight of his chains; if we wish to get him to the High Priest alive we must loosen the cords with which his hands are bound, that he may be able to save himself a little when he falls.' The band stopped for a moment, the fetters were loosened, and another kind-hearted soldier brought some water to Jesus from a neighbouring fountain. Jesus thanked him, and spoke of the 'fountains of living water,' of which those who believed in him should drink; but his words enraged the Pharisees still more, and they overwhelmed him with insults and contumelious language. I saw the heart of the soldier who had caused Jesus to be unbound, as also that of the one who brought him water, suddenly illuminated by grace; they were both converted before the death of Jesus, and immediately joined his disciples. The procession started again, and reached the gate of Ophel. Here Jesus was again saluted by the cries of grief and sympathy of those who owed him so much gratitude, and the soldiers had considerable difficulty in keeping back the men and women who crowded round from all parts. They clasped their hands, fell on their knees, lamented, and exclaimed, 'Release this man unto us, release him! Who will assist, who will console us, who will cure our diseases? Release him unto us!' It was indeed heart-rending to look upon Jesus; his face was white, disfigured, and wounded, his hair dishevelled, his dress wet and soiled, and his savage and drunken guards were dragging him about and striking him with sticks like a poor dumb animal led to the slaughter. Thus was he conducted through the midst of the afflicted inhabitants of Ophel, and the paralytic whom he had cured, the dumb to whom he had restored speech, and the blind whose eyes he had opened, united, but in vain, in offering supplications for his release. Many persons from among the lowest and most degraded classes had been sent by Annas, Caiphas, and the other enemies of Jesus, to join the procession, and assist the soldiers both in ill-treating Jesus, and in driving away the inhabitants of Ophel. The village of Ophel was seated upon a hill, and I saw a great deal of timber placed there ready for building. The procession had to proceed down a hill, and then pass through a door made in the wall. On one side of this door stood a large building erected originally by Solomon, and on the other the pool of Bethsaida. After passing this, they followed a westerly direction down a steep street called Millo, at the end of which a turn to the south brought them to the house of Annas. The guards never ceased their cruel treatment of our Divine Saviour, and excused such conduct by saying that the crowds who gathered together in front of the procession compelled them to severity. Jesus fell seven times between Mount Olivet and the house of Annas. The inhabitants of Ophel were still in a state of consternation and grief, when the sight of the Blessed Virgin who passed through the village accompanied by the holy women and some other friends on her way from the Valley of Cedron to the house of Mary the mother of Mark, excited them still more, and they made the place re-echo with sobs and lamentations, while they surrounded and almost carried her in their arms. Mary was speechless from grief, and did not open her lips after she reached the house of Mary the mother of Mark, until the arrival of John, who related all he had seen since Jesus left the supper-room; and a little later she was taken to the house of Martha, which was near that of Lazarus. Peter and John, who had followed Jesus at a distance, went in haste to some servants of the High Priest with whom the latter was acquainted, in order to endeavour by their means to obtain admittance into the tribunal where their Master was to be tried. These servants acted as messengers, and had just been ordered to go to the houses of the ancients, and other members of the Council, to summon them to attend the meeting which was convoked. As they were anxious to oblige the Apostles, but foresaw much difficulty in obtaining their admittance into the tribunal, they gave them cloaks similar to those they themselves wore, and made them assist in carrying messages to the members in order that afterwards they might enter the tribunal of Caiphas, and mingle, without being recognised, among the soldiers and false witnesses, as all other persons were to be expelled. As Nicodemus, Joseph of Arimathea, and other well-intentioned persons were members of this Council, the Apostles undertook to let them know what was going to be done in the Council, thus securing the presence of those friends of Jesus whom the Pharisees had purposely omitted to invite. In the mean time Judas wandered up and down the steep and wild precipices at the south of Jerusalem, despair marked on his every feature, and the devil pursuing him to and fro, filling his imagination with still darker visions, and not allowing him a moment's respite. CHAPTER IV. Means employed by the enemies of Jesus for carrying out their designs against him. No sooner was Jesus arrested than Annas and Caiphas were informed, and instantly began to arrange their plans with regard to the course to be pursued. Confusion speedily reigned everywhere--the rooms were lighted up in haste, guards placed at the entrances, and messengers dispatched to different parts of the town to convoke the members of the Council, the scribes, and all who were to take a part in the trial. Many among them had, however, assembled at the house of Caiphas as soon as the treacherous compact with Judas was completed, and had remained there to await the course of events. The different classes of ancients were likewise assembled, and as the Pharisees, Sadducees, and Herodians were congregated in Jerusalem from all parts of the country for the celebration of the festival, and had long been concerting measures with the Council for the arrest of our Lord, the High Priests now sent for those whom they knew to be the most bitterly opposed to Jesus, and desired them to assemble the witnesses, gather together every possible proof, and bring all before the Council. The proud Sadducees of Nazareth, of Capharnaum, of Thirza, of Gabara, of Jotapata, and of Silo, whom Jesus had so often reproved before the people, were actually dying for revenge. They hastened to all the inns to seek out those persons whom they knew to be enemies of our Lord, and offered them bribes in order to secure their appearance. But, with the exception of a few ridiculous calumnies, which were certain to be disproved a soon as investigated, nothing tangible could be brought forward against Jesus, excepting, indeed, those foolish accusations which he had so often refuted in the synagogue. The enemies of Jesus hastened, however, to the tribunal of Caiphas, escorted by the scribes and Pharisees of Jerusalem, and accompanied by many of those merchants whom our Lord drove out of the Temple when they were holding market there; as also by the proud doctors whom he had silenced before all the people, and even by some who could not forgive the humiliation of being convicted of error when he disputed with them in the Temple at the age of twelve. There was likewise a large body of impenitent sinners whom he had refused to cure, relapsed sinners whose diseases had returned, worldly young men whom he would not receive as disciples, avaricious persons whom he had enraged by causing the money which they had been in hopes of possessing to be distributed in alms. Others there were whose friends he had cured, and who had thus been disappointed in their expectations of inheriting property; debauchees whose victims he had converted; and many despicable characters who made their fortunes by flattering and fostering the vices of the great. All these emissaries of Satan were overflowing with rage against everything holy, and consequently with an indescribable hatred of the Holy of Holies. They were farther incited by the enemies of our Lord, and therefore assembled in crowds round the palace of Caiphas, to bring forward all their false accusations and to endeavour to cover with infamy that spotless Lamb, who took upon himself the sins of the world, and accepted the burden in order to reconcile man with God. Whilst all these wicked beings were busily consulting as to what was best to be done, anguish and anxiety filled the hearts of the friends of Jesus, for they were ignorant of the mystery which was about to be accomplished, and they wandered about, sighing, and listening to every different opinion. Each word they uttered gave raise to feelings of suspicion on the part of those who they addressed, and if they were silent, their silence was set down as wrong. Many well-meaning but weak and undecided characters yielded to temptation, were scandalised, and lost their fait; indeed, the number of those who persevered was very small indeed. Things were the same then as they oftentimes are now, persons were willing to serve God if they met with no opposition from their fellowcreatures, but were ashamed of the Cross if held in contempt by others. The hearts of some were, however, touched by the patience displayed by our Lord in the midst of his sufferings, and they walked away silent and sad. CHAPTER V. A Glance at Jerusalem. The customary prayers and preparations for the celebration of the festival being completed, the greatest part of the inhabitants of the densely-populated city of Jerusalem, as also the strangers congregated there, were plunged in sleep after the fatigues of the day, when, all at once, the arrest of Jesus was announced, and everyone was aroused, both his friends and foes, and numbers immediately responded to the summons of the High Priest, and left their dwellings to assemble at his court. In some parts the light of the moon enabled them to grope their way in safety along the dark and gloomy streets, but in other parts they were obliged to make use of torches. Very few of the houses were built with their windows looking on the street, and, generally speaking, their doors were in inner courts, which gave the streets a still more gloomy appearance than is usual at this hour. The steps of all were directed towards Sion, and an attentive listener might have heard persons stop at the doors of their friends, and knock, in order to awaken them--then hurry on, then again stop to question others, and, finally, set off anew in haste towards Sion. Newsmongers and servants were hurrying forward to ascertain what was going on; in order that they might return and give the account to those who remained at home; and the bolting and barricading of doors might be plainly heard, as many persons were much alarmed and feared an insurrection, while a thousand different propositions were made and opinions given, such as the following:--'Lazarus and his sisters will soon know who is this man in whom they have placed such firm reliance. Johanna Chusa, Susannah, Mary the mother of Mark, and Salome will repent, but too late, the imprudence of their conduct; Seraphia, the wife of Sirach, will be compelled to make an apology to her husband now, for he has so often reproached her with her partiality for the Galilean. The partisans of this fanatical man, this inciter of rebellion, pretended to be filled with compassion for all who looked upon things in a different light from themselves, and now they will not know where to hide their heads. He will find no one now to cast garments and strew olive-branches at his feet. Those hypocrites who pretended to be so much better than other persons will receive their deserts, for they are all implicated with the Galilean. It is a much more serious business than was at first thought. I should like to know how Nicodemus and Joseph of Arimathea will get out of it; the High Priests have mistrusted them for some time; they made common cause with Lazarus: but they are extremely cunning. All will now, however, be brought to light.' Speeches such as these were uttered by persons who were exasperated, not only against the disciples of Jesus, but likewise with the holy women who had supplied his temporal wants, and had publicly and fearlessly expressed their veneration for his doctrines, and their belief in his Divine mission. But although many persons spoke of Jesus and his followers in this contemptuous manner, yet there were others who held very different opinions, and of these some were frightened, and others, being overcome with sorrow, sought friends to whom they might unburden their hearts, and before whom they could, without fear, give vent to their feelings; but the number of those sufficiently daring openly to avow their admiration for Jesus was but small. Nevertheless, it was in parts only of Jerusalem that these disturbances took place--in those parts where the messengers had been sent by the High Priests and the Pharisees, to convoke the members of the Council and to call together the witnesses. It appeared to me that I saw feelings of hatred and fury burst forth in different parts of the city, under the form of flames, which flames traversed the streets, united with others which they met, and proceeded in the direction of Sion, increasing every moment, and at last came to a stop beneath the tribunal of Caiphas, where they remained, forming together a perfect whirlwind of fire. The Roman soldiers took no part in what was going on; they did not understand the excited feelings of the people, but their sentinels were doubled, their cohorts drawn up, and they kept a strict look out; this, indeed, was customary at the time of the Paschal solemnity, on account of the vast number of strangers who were then assembled together. The Pharisees endeavoured to avoid the neighbourhood of the sentinels, for fear of being questioned by them, and of contracting defilement by answering their questions. The High Priests had sent a message to Pilate intimating their reasons for stationing soldiers round Ophel and Sion; but he mistrusted their intentions, as much ill-feeling existed between the Romans and the Jews. He could not sleep, but walked about during the greatest part of the night, hearkening to the different reports and issuing orders consequent on what he heard; his wife slept, but her sleep was disturbed by frightful dreams, and she groaned and wept alternately. In no part of Jerusalem did the arrest of Jesus produce more touching demonstrations of grief than among the poor inhabitants of Ophel, the greatest part of whom were daylabourers, and the rest principally employed in menial offices in the service of the Temple. The news came unexpectedly upon them; for some time they doubted the truth of the report, and wavered between hope and fear; but the sight of their Master, their Benefactor, their Consoler, dragged through the streets, torn, bruised, and ill-treated in every imaginable way, filled them with horror; and their grief was still farther increased by beholding his afflicted Mother wandering about from street to street, accompanied by the holy women, and endeavouring to obtain some intelligence concerning her Divine Son. These holy women were often obliged to hide in corners and under door-ways for fear of being seen by the enemies of Jesus; but even with these precautions they were oftentimes insulted, and taken for women of bad character--their feelings were frequently harrowed by hearing the malignant words and triumphant expressions of the cruel Jews, and seldom, very seldom, did a word of kindness or pity strike their ears. They were completely exhausted before reaching their place of refuge, but they endeavoured to console and support one another, and wrapped thick veils over their heads. When at last seated, they heard a sudden knock at the door, and listened breathlessly--the knock was repeated, but softly, therefore they made certain that it was no enemy, and yet they opened the door cautiously, fearing a stratagem. It was indeed a friend, and they issued forth and walked about for a time, and then again returned to their place of refuge--still more heartbroken than before. The majority of the Apostles, overcome with terror, were wandering about among the valleys which surround Jerusalem, and at times took refuge in the caverns beneath Mount Olivet. They started if they came in contact with one another, spoke in trembling tones, and separated on the least noise being heard. First they concealed themselves in one cave and then in another, next they endeavoured to return to the town, while some of their number climbed to the top of Mount Olivet and cast anxious glances at the torches, the light of which they could see glimmering at and about Sion; they listened to every distant sound, made a thousand different conjectures, and then returned to the valley, in hopes of getting some certain intelligence. The streets in the vicinity of Caiphas's tribunal were brightly illuminated with lamps and torches, but, as the crowds gathered around it, the noise and confusion continued to increase. Mingling with these discordant sounds might be heard the bellowing of the beasts which were tethered on the outside of the walls of Jerusalem, and the plaintive bleating of the lambs. There was something most touching in the bleating of these lambs, which were to be sacrificed on the following day in the Temple,--the one Lamb alone who was about to be offered a willing sacrifice opened not his mouth, like a sheep in the hands of the butcher, which resists not, or the lamb which is silent before the shearer; and that Lamb was the Lamb of God--the Lamb without spot--the true Paschal Lamb--Jesus Christ himself. The sky looked dark, gloomy, and threatening--the moon was red, and covered with livid spots; it appeared as if dreading to reach its full, because its Creator was then to die. Next I cast a glance outside the town, and, near the south gate, I beheld the traitor, Judas Iscariot, wandering about, alone, and a prey to the tortures of his guilty conscience; he feared even his own shadow, and was followed by many devils, who endeavoured to turn his feelings of remorse into black despair. Thousands of evil spirits were busying themselves in all parts, tempting men first to one sin and then to another. It appeared as if the gates of hell were flung open, and Satan madly striving and exerting his whole energies to increase the heavy load of iniquities which the Lamb without spot had taken upon himself. The angels wavered between joy and grief; they desired ardently to fall prostrate before the throne of God, and to obtain permission to assist Jesus; but at the same time they were filled with astonishment, and could only adore that miracle of Divine justice and mercy which had existed in Heaven for all eternity, and was now about to be accomplished; for the angels believe, like us, in God, the Father Almighty, Creator of Heaven and Earth, and in Jesus Christ, his only Son, our Lord, who was conceived by the Holy Ghost, born of the Virgin Mary, who began on this night to suffer under Pontius Pilate, and the next day was to be crucified; to die, and be buried; descend into hell, rise again on the third day, ascent into Heaven, be seated at the right hand of God the Father Almighty, and from thence come to judge the living and the dead; they likewise believe in the Holy Ghost, the Holy Catholic Church, the communion of Saints, the forgiveness of sins, the resurrection of the body, and life everlasting. CHAPTER VI. Jesus before Annas. It was towards midnight when Jesus reached the palace of Annas, and his guards immediately conducted him into a very large hall, where Annas, surrounded by twentyeight councillors, was seated on a species of platform, raised a little above the level of the floor, and placed opposite to the entrance. The soldiers who first arrested Jesus now dragged him roughly to the foot of the tribunal. The room was quite full, between soldiers, the servants of Annas, a number of the mob who had been admitted, and the false witnesses who afterwards adjourned to Caiphas's hall. Annas was delighted at the thought of our Lord being brought before him, and was looking out for his arrival with the greatest impatience. The expression of his countenance was most repulsive, as it showed in every lineament not only the infernal joy with which he was filled, but likewise all the cunning and duplicity of this heart. He was the president of a species of tribunal instituted for the purpose of examining persons accused of teaching false doctrines; and if convicted there, they were then taken before the High Priest. Jesus stood before Annas. He looked exhausted and haggard; his garments were covered with mud, his hands manacled, his head bowed down, and he spoke not a word. Annas was a thin ill-humoured-looking old man, with a scraggy beard. His pride and arrogance were great; and as he seated himself he smiled ironically, pretending that he knew nothing at all, and that he was perfectly astonished at finding that the prisoner, whom he had just been informed was to be brought before him, was no other than Jesus of Nazareth. 'Is it possible,' said he, 'is it possible that thou art Jesus of Nazareth? Where are thy disciples, thy numerous followers? Where is thy kingdom? I fear affairs have not turned out as thou didst expect. The authorities, I presume, discovered that it was quite time to put a stop to thy conduct, disrespectful as it was towards God and his priests, and to such violations of the Sabbath. What disciples hast thou now? Where are they all gone? Thou are silent! Speak out, seducer! Speak out, thou inciter of rebellion! Didst thou not eat the Paschal lamb in an unlawful manner, at an improper time, and in an improper place? Dost thou not desire to introduce new doctrines? Who gave thee the right of preaching? Where didst thou study? Speak, what are the tenets of thy religion?' Jesus then raised his weary head, looked at Annas, and said, 'I have spoken openly to the world; I have always taught in the synagogue, and in the Temple, whither all the Jews resort; and in secret I have spoken nothing. Why askest thou me? Ask them who have heard what I have spoken unto them; behold, they know what thing I have said.' At this answer of Jesus the countenance of Annas flushed with fury and indignation. A base menial who was standing near perceived this, and he immediately struck our Lord on the face with his iron gauntlet, exclaiming at the same moment, 'Answerest thou the High Priest so?' Jesus was so nearly prostrated by the violence of the blow, that when the guards likewise reviled and struck him, he fell quite down, and blood trickled from his face on to the floor. Laughter, insults, and bitter words resounded through the hall. The archers dragged him roughly up again, and he mildly answered, 'If I have spoken evil, give testimony of the evil; but if well, why strikest thou me?' Annas became still more enraged when he saw the calm demeanour of Jesus, and, turning to the witnesses, he desired them to bring forward their accusations. They all began to speak at once:--'He has called himself king; he says that God is his Father; that the Pharisees are an adulterous generation. He causes insurrection among the people; he cures the sick by the help of the devil on the Sabbath-day. The inhabitants of Ophel assembled round him a short time ago, and addressed him by the titles of Saviour and Prophet. He lets himself be called the Son of God; he says that he is sent by God; he predicts the destruction of Jerusalem. He does not fast; he eats with sinners, with pagans, and with publicans, and associates with women of evil repute. A short time ago he said to a man who gave him some water to drink at the gates of Ophel, "that he would give unto him the water of eternal life, after drinking which he would thirst no more." He seduces the people by words of double meaning,' etc., etc. These accusations were all vociferated at once; some of the witnesses stood before Jesus and insulted him while they spoke by derisive gestures, and the archers went so far as even to strike him, saying at the same time, 'Speak; why dost thou not answer?' Annas and his adherents added mockery to insult, exclaiming at every pause in the accusations, 'This is thy doctrine, then, is it? What canst thou answer to this? Issue thy orders, great King; man sent by God, give proofs of thy mission.' 'Who art thou?' continued Annas, in a tone of cutting contempt; 'by whom art thou sent? Art thou the son of an obscure carpenter, or art thou Elias, who was carried up to heaven in a fiery chariot? He is said to be still living, and I have been told that thou canst make thyself invisible when thou pleasest. Perhaps thou art the prophet Malachy, whose words thou dost so frequently quote. Some say that an angel was his father, and that he likewise is still alive. An impostor as thou art could not have a finer opportunity of taking persons in than by passing thyself off as this prophet. Tell me, without farther preamble, to what order of kings thou dost belong? Thou art greater than Solomon,--at least thou pretendest so to be, and dost even expect to be believed. Be easy, I will no longer refuse the title and the sceptre which are so justly thy due.' Annas then called for the sheet of parchment, about a yard in length, and six inches in width; on this he wrote a series of words in large letters, and each word expressed some different accusation which had been brought against our Lord. He then rolled it up, placed it in a little hollow tube, fastened it carefully on the top of a reed, and presented this reed to Jesus, saying at the same time, with a contemptuous sneer, 'Behold the sceptre of thy kingdom; it contains thy titles, as also the account of the honours to which thou art entitled, and thy right to the throne. Take them to the High Priest, in order that he may acknowledge thy regal dignity, and treat thee according to thy deserts. Tie the hands of this king, and take him before the High Priest.' The hands of Jesus, which had been loosened, were then tied across his breast in such a manner as to make him hold the pretended sceptre, which contained the accusations of Annas, and he was led to the Court of Caiphas, amidst the hisses, shouts, and blows lavished upon him by the brutal mob. The house of Annas was not more than three hundred steps from that of Caiphas; there were high walls and common-looking houses on each side of the road, which was lighted up by torches and lanterns placed on poles, and there were numbers of Jews standing about talking in an angry excited manner. The soldiers could scarcely make their way through the crowd, and those who had behaved so shamefully to Jesus at the Court of Annas continued their insults and base usage during the whole of the time sent in walking to the house of Caiphas. I saw money given to those who behaved the worst to Jesus by armed men belonging to the tribunal, and I saw them push out of the way all who looked compassionately at him. The former were allowed to enter the Court of Caiphas. CHAPTER VII. The Tribunal of Caiphas. To enter Caiphas's tribunal persons had to pass through a large court, which may be called the exterior court; from thence they entered into an inner court, which extended all round the building. The building itself was of far greater length than breadth, and in the front there was a kind of open vestibule surrounded on three sides by columns of no great height. On the fourth side the columns were higher, and behind them was a room almost as large as the vestibule itself, where the seat of the members of the Council were placed on a species of round platform raised above the level of the floor. That assigned to the High Priest was elevated above the others; the criminal to be tried stood in the centre of the halfcircle formed by the seats. The witnesses and accusers stood either by the side or behind the prisoner. There were three doors at the back of the judges' seats which led into another apartment, filled likewise with seats. This room was used for secret consultation. Entrances placed on the right and left hand sides of this room opened into the interior court, which was round, like the back of the building. Those who left the room by the door on the righthand side saw on the left-hand side of the court the gate which led to a subterranean prison excavated under the room. There were many underground prisons there, and it was in one of these that Peter and John were confined a whole night, when they had cured the lame man in the Temple after Pentecost. Both the house and the courts were filled with torches and lamps, which made them as light as day. There was a large fire lighted in the middle of the porch, on each side of which were hollow pipes to serve as chimneys for the smoke, and round this fire were standing soldiers, menial servants, and witnesses of the lowest class who had received bribes for giving their false testimony. A few women were there likewise, whose employment was to pour out a species of red beverage for the soldiers, and to bake cakes, for which services they received a small compensation. The majority of the judges were already seated around Caiphas, the others came in shortly afterwards, and the porch was almost filled, between true and false witnesses, while many other persons likewise endeavoured to come in to gratify their curiosity, but were prevented. Peter and John entered the outer court, in the dress of travellers, a short time before Jesus was led through, and John succeeded in penetrating into the inner court, by means of a servant with whom he was acquainted. The door was instantly closed after him, therefore Peter, who was a little behind, was shut out. He begged the maid-servant to open the door for him, but she refused both his entreaties and those of John, and he must have remained on the outside had not Nicodemus and Joseph of Arimathea, who came up at this moment, taken him with them. The two Apostles then returned the cloaks which they had borrowed, and stationed themselves in a place from whence they could see the judges, and hear everything that was going on. Caiphas was seated in the centre of the raised platform, and seventy of the members of the Sanhedrin were placed around him, while the public officers, the scribes, and the ancients were standing on either side, and the false witnesses behind them. Soldiers were posted from the base of the platform to the door of the vestibule through which Jesus was to enter. The countenance of Caiphas was solemn in the extreme, but the gravity was accompanied by unmistakable signs of suppressed rage and sinister intentions. He wore a long mantle of a dull red colour, embroidered in flowers and trimmed with golden fringe; it was fastened at the shoulders and on the chest, besides being ornamented in the front with gold clasps. His head-attire was high, and adorned with hanging ribbons, the sides were open, and it rather resembled a bishop's mitre. Caiphas had been waiting with his adherents belonging to the Great Council for some time, and so impatient was he that he arose several times, went into the outer court in his magnificent dress, and asked angrily whether Jesus of Nazareth was come. When he saw the procession drawing near he returned to his seat. CHAPTER VIII. Jesus before Caiphas. Jesus was led across the court, and the mob received him with groans and hisses. As he passed by Peter and John, he looked at them, but without turning his head, for fear of betraying them. Scarcely had he reached the council-chamber, than Caiphas exclaimed in a loud tone, 'Thou art come, then, at last, thou enemy of God, thou blasphemer, who dost disturb the peace of this holy night!' The tube which contained the accusations of Annas, and was fastened to the pretended sceptre in the hands of Jesus, was instantly opened and read. Caiphas made use of the most insulting language, and the archers again struck and abused our Lord, vociferating at the same time, 'Answer at once! Speak out! Art thou dumb?' Caiphas, whose temper was indescribably proud and arrogant, became even more enraged than Annas had been, and asked a thousand questions one after the other, but Jesus stood before him in silence, and with his eyes cast down. The archers endeavoured to force him to speak by repeated blows, and a malicious child pressed his thumb into his lips, tauntingly bidding him to bite. The witnesses were then called for. The first were persons of the lowest class, whose accusations were as incoherent and inconsistent as those brought forward at the court of Annas, and nothing could be made out of them; Caiphas therefore turned to the principal witnesses, the Pharisees and the Sadducees, who had assembled from all parts of the country. They endeavoured to speak calmly, but their faces and manner betrayed the virulent envy and hatred with which their hearts were overflowing, and they repeated over and over again the same accusations, to which he had already replied so many times: 'That he cured the sick, and cast out devils, by the help of devils--that he profaned the Sabbath--incited the people to rebel--called the Pharisees a race of vipers and adulterers--predicted the destruction of Jerusalem--frequented the society of publicans and sinners--assembled the people and gave himself out as a king, a prophet, and the Son of God.' They deposed 'that he was constantly speaking of his kingdom,--that he forbade divorce,--called himself the Bread of Life, and said that whoever did not eat his flesh and drink his blood would not have eternal life.' Thus did they distort and misinterpret the words he had uttered, the instructions he had given and the parables by which he had illustrated his instructions, giving them the semblance of crimes. But these witnesses could not agree in their depositions, for one said, 'He calls himself king;' and a second instantly contradicted, saying, 'No, he allows persons to call him so; but directly they attempted to proclaim him, he fled.' Another said, 'He calls himself the Son of God,' but he was interrupted by a fourth, who exclaimed, 'No, he only styles himself the Son of God because he does the will of his Heavenly Father.' Some of the witnesses stated that he had cured them, but that their diseases had returned, and that his pretended cures were only performed by magic. They spoke likewise of the cure of the paralytic man at the pool of Bethsaida, but they distorted the facts so as to give them the semblance of crimes, and even in these accusations they could not agree, contradicting one another. The Pharisees of Sephoris, with whom he had once had a discussion on the subject of divorces, accused him of teaching false doctrines, and a young man of Nazareth, whom he had refused to allow to become one of his disciples, was likewise base enough to bear witness against him. It was found to be utterly impossible to prove a single fact, and the witnesses appeared to come forward for the sole purpose of insulting Jesus, rather than to demonstrate the truth of their statements. Whilst they were disputing with one another, Caiphas and some of the other members of the Council employed themselves in questioning Jesus, and turning his answers into derision. 'What species of king art thou? Give proofs of thy power! Call the legions of angels of whom thou didst speak in the Garden of Olives! What hast thou done with the money given unto thee by the widows, and other simpletons whom thou didst seduce by thy false doctrines? Answer at once: speak out,--art thou dumb? Thou wouldst have been far wiser to have kept silence when in the midst of the foolish mob: there thou didst speak far too much.' All these questions were accompanied by blows from the under-servants of the members of the tribunal, and had our Lord not been supported from above, he could not have survived this treatment. Some of the base witnesses endeavoured to prove that he was an illegitimate son; but others declared that his mother was a pious Virgin, belonging to the Temple, and that they afterwards saw her betrothed to a man who feared God. The witnesses upbraided Jesus and his disciples with not having offered sacrifice in the Temple. It is true that I never did see either Jesus or his disciples offer any sacrifice in the Temple, excepting the Paschal lamb; but Joseph and Anna used frequently during their lifetime to offer sacrifice for the Child Jesus. However, even this accusation was puerile, for the Essenians never offered sacrifice, and no one thought the less well of them for not doing so. The enemies of Jesus still continued to accuse him of being a sorcerer, and Caiphas affirmed several times that the confusion in the statements of the witnesses was caused solely by witchcraft. Some said that he had eaten the Paschal lamb on the previous day, which was contrary to the law, and that the year before he had made different alterations in the manner of celebrating this ceremony. But the witnesses contradicted one another to such a degree that Caiphas and his adherents found, to their very great annoyance and anger, that not one accusation could be really proved. Nicodemus and Joseph of Arimathea were called up, and being commanded to say how it happened that they had allowed him to eat the Pasch on the wrong day in a room which belonged to them, they proved from ancient documents that from time immemorial the Galileans had been allowed to eat the Pasch a day earlier than the rest of the Jews. They added that every other part of the ceremony had been performed according to the directions given in the law, and that persons belonging to the Temple were present at the supper. This quite puzzled the witnesses, and Nicodemus increased the rage of the enemies of Jesus by pointing out the passages in the archives which proved the right of the Galileans, and gave the reason for which this privilege was granted. The reason was this: the sacrifices would not have been finished by the Sabbath if the immense multitudes who congregated together for that purpose had all been obliged to perform the ceremony on the same day; and although the Galileans had not always profited by this right, yet its existence was incontestably proved by Nicodemus; and the anger of the Pharisees was heightened by his remarking that the members of the Council had cause to be greatly offended at the gross contradictions in the statements of the witnesses, and that the extraordinary and hurried manner in which the whole affair had been conducted showed that malice and envy were the sole motives which induced the accusers, and made them bring the case forward at a moment when all were busied in the preparations for the most solemn feast of the year. They looked at Nicodemus furiously, and could not reply, but continued to question the witnesses in a still more precipitate and imprudent manner. Two witnesses at last came forward, who said, 'This man said, "I will destroy this Temple made with hands, and within three days I will build another not made with hands;"' however, even these witnesses did not agree in their statements, for one said that the accused wished to build a new Temple, and that he had eaten the Pasch in an unusual place, because he desired the destruction of the ancient Temple; but the other said, 'Not so: the edifice where he ate the Pasch was built by human hands, therefore he could not have referred to that.' The wrath of Caiphas was indescribable; for the cruel treatment which Jesus had suffered, his Divine patience, and the contradiction of the witnesses, were beginning to make a great impression on many persons present, a few hisses were heard, and the hearts of some were so touched that they could not silence the voice of their consciences. Ten soldiers left the court under pretext of indisposition, but in reality overcome by their feelings. As they passed by the place where Peter and John were standing, they exclaimed, 'The silence of Jesus of Nazareth, in the midst of such cruel treatment, is superhuman: it would melt a heart of iron: the wonder is, that the earth does not open and swallow such reprobates as his accusers must be. But tell us, where must we go?' The two Apostles either mistrusted the soldiers, and thought they were only seeking to betray them, or they were fearful of being recognised by those around and denounced as disciples of Jesus, for they only made answer in a melancholy tone: 'If truth calls you, follow it, and all will come right of itself.' The soldiers instantly went out of the room, and left Jerusalem soon after. They met persons on the outskirts of the town, who directed them to the caverns which lay to the south of Jerusalem, on the other side of Mount Sion, where many of the Apostles had taken refuge. These latter were at first alarmed at seeing strangers enter their hiding-place; but the soldiers soon dispelled all fear, and gave them an account of the sufferings of Jesus. The temper of Caiphas, which was already perturbed, became quite infuriated by the contradictory statements of the two last witnesses, and rising from his seat he approached Jesus, and said: 'Answerest thou nothing to the things which these witness against thee?' Jesus neither raised his head nor looked at the High Priest, which increased the anger of the latter to the greatest degree; and the archers perceiving this seized our Lord by the hair, pulled his head back, and gave him blows under the chin; but he still kept his eyes cast down. Caiphas raised his hands, and exclaimed in an enraged tone: 'I adjure thee by the living God that thou tell us if thou be Christ the Messiah, the son of the living God?' A momentary and solemn pause ensued. Then Jesus in a majestic and superhuman voice replied, 'Thou hast said it. Nevertheless I say to you, hereafter you shall see the Son of Man sitting on the right hand of the power of God, and coming in the clouds of Heaven.' Whilst Jesus was pronouncing these words, a bright light appeared to me to surround him; Heaven was opened above his head; I saw the Eternal Father; but no words from a human pen can describe the intuitive view that was then vouchsafed me of him. I likewise saw the angels, and the prayers of the just ascending to the throne of God. At the same moment I perceived the yawning abyss of hell like a fiery meteor at the feet of Caiphas; it was filled with horrible devils; a slight gauze alone appeared to separate him from its dark flames. I could see the demoniacal fury with which his heart was overflowing, and the whole house looked to me like hell. At the moment that our Lord pronounced the solemn words, 'I am the Christ, the Son of the living God,' hell appeared to be shaken from one extremity to the other, and then, as it were, to burst forth and inundate every person in the house of Caiphas with feelings of redoubled hatred towards our Lord. These things are always shown to me under the appearance of some material object, which renders them less difficult of comprehension, and impresses them in a more clear and forcible manner on the mind, because we ourselves being material beings, facts are more easily illustrated in our regard if manifested through the medium of the senses. The despair and fury which these words produced in hell were shown to me under the appearance of a thousand terrific figures in different places. I remember seeing, among other frightful things, a number of little black objects, like dogs with claws, which walked on their hind legs; I knew at the time what kind of wickedness was indicated by this apparition, but I cannot remember now. I saw these horrible phantoms enter into the bodies of the greatest part of the bystanders, or else place themselves on their head or shoulders. I likewise at this moment saw frightful spectres come out of the sepulchres on the other side of Sion; I believe they were evil spirits. I saw in the neighbourhood of the Temple many other apparitions, which resembled prisoners loaded with chains: I do not know whether they were demons, or souls condemned to remain in some particular part of the earth, and who were then going to Limbo, which our Lord's condemnation to death had opened to them. It is extremely difficult to explain these facts, for fear of scandalising those who have no knowledge of such things; but persons who see feel them, and they often cause the very hair to stand on end on the head. I think that John saw some of these apparitions, for I heard him speak about them afterwards. All whose hearts were not radically corrupted felt excessively terrified at these events, but the hardened were sensible of nothing but an increase of hatred and anger against our Lord. Caiphas then arose, and, urged on by Satan, took up the end of his mantle, pierced it with his knife, and rent it from one end to the other, exclaiming at the same time, in a loud voice, 'He hath blasphemed, what further need have we of witnesses? Behold, now you have heard the blasphemy: what think you?' All who were then present arose, and exclaimed with astounding malignancy, 'He is guilty of death!' During the whole of this frightful scene, the devils were in the most tremendous state of excitement; they appeared to have complete possession not only of the enemies of Jesus, but likewise of their partisans and cowardly followers. The powers of darkness seemed to me to proclaim a triumph over the light, and the few among the spectators whose hearts still retained a glimmering of light were filled with such consternation that, covering their heads, they instantly departed. The witnesses who belonged to the upper classes were less hardened than the others; their consciences were racked with remorse, and they followed the example given by the persons mentioned above, and left the room as quickly as possible, while the rest crowded round the fire in the vestibule, and ate and drank after receiving full pay for their services. The High Priest then addressed the archers, and said, 'I deliver this king up into your hands; render the blasphemer the honours which are his due.' After these words he retired with the members of his Council into the round room behind the tribunal, which could not be seen from the vestibule. In the midst of the bitter affliction which inundated the heart of John, his thoughts were with the Mother of Jesus; he feared that the dreadful news of the condemnation of her Son might be communicated to her suddenly, or that perhaps some enemy might give the information in a heartless manner. He therefore looked at Jesus, and saying in a low voice, 'Lord, thou knowest why I leave thee,' went away quickly to seek the Blessed Virgin, as if he had been sent by Jesus himself. Peter was quite overcome between anxiety and sorrow, which, joined to fatigue, made him chilly; therefore, as the morning was cold, he went up to the fire where many of the common people were warming themselves. He did his best to hide his grief in their presence, as he could not make up his mind to go home and leave his beloved Master. CHAPTER IX. The Insults received by Jesus in the Court of Caiphas. No sooner did Caiphas, with the other members of the Council, leave the tribunal than a crowd of miscreants--the very scum of the people--surrounded Jesus like a swarm of infuriated wasps, and began to heap every imaginable insult upon him. Even during the trial, whilst the witnesses were speaking, the archers and some others could not restrain their cruel inclinations, but pulled out handfuls of his hair and beard, spat upon him, struck him with their fists, wounded him with sharp-pointed sticks, and even ran needles into his body; but when Caiphas left the hall they set no bounds to their barbarity. They first placed a crown, made of straw and the bark of trees, upon his head, and then took it off, saluting him at the same time with insulting expressions, like the following: 'Behold the Son of David wearing the crown of his father.' 'A greater than Solomon is here; this is the king who is preparing a wedding feast for his son.' Thus did they turn into ridicule those eternal truths which he had taught under the from of parables to those whom he came from heaven to save; and whilst repeating these scoffing words, they continued to strike him with their fists and sticks, and to spit in his face. Next they put a crown of reeds upon his head, took off his robe and scapular, and then threw an old torn mantle, which scarcely reached his knees, over his shoulders; around his neck they hung a long iron chain, with an iron ring at each end, studded with sharp points, which bruised and tore his knees as he walked. They again pinioned his arms, put a reed into his hand, and covered his Divine countenance with spittle. They had already thrown all sorts of filth over his hair, as well as over his chest, and upon the old mantle. They bound his eyes with a dirty rag, and struck him, crying out at the same time in loud tones, 'Prophesy unto us, O Christ, who is he that struck thee?' He answered not one word, but sighed, and prayed inwardly for them. After many more insults, they seized the chain which was hanging on his neck, dragged him towards the room into which the Council had withdrawn, and with their stick forced him in, vociferating at the same time, 'March forward, thou King of Straw! Show thyself to the Council with the insignia of the regal honours we have rendered unto thee.' A large body of councillors, with Caiphas at their head, were still in the room, and they looked with both delight and approbation at the shameful scene which was enacted, beholding with pleasure the most sacred ceremonies turned into derision. The pitiless guards covered him with mud and spittle, and with mock gravity exclaimed, 'Receive the prophetic unction--the regal unction.' Then they impiously parodied the baptismal ceremonies, and the pious act of Magdalen in emptying the vase of perfume on his head. 'How canst thou presume,' they exclaimed, 'to appear before the Council in such a condition? Thou dost purify others, and thou art not pure thyself; but we will soon purify thee.' They fetched a basin of dirty water, which they poured over his face and shoulders, whilst they bent their knees before him, and exclaimed, 'Behold thy precious unction, behold the spikenard worth three hundred pence; thou hast been baptised in the pool of Bethsaida.' They intended by this to throw into ridicule the act of respect and veneration shown by Magdalen, when she poured the precious ointment over his head, at the house of the Pharisee. By their derisive words concerning his baptism in the pool of Bethsaida, they pointed out, although unintentionally, the resemblance between Jesus and the Paschal lamb, for the lambs were washed in the first place in the pond near the Probatica gate, and then brought to the pool of Bethsaida, where they underwent another purification before being taken to the Temple to be sacrificed. The enemies of Jesus likewise alluded to the man who had been infirm for thirty-eight years, and who was cured by Jesus at the pool of Bethsaida; for I saw this man either washed or baptised there; I say either washed or baptised, because I do not exactly remember the circumstances. They then dragged Jesus round the room, before all the members of the Council, who continued to address him in reproachful and abusive language. Every countenance looked diabolical and enraged, and all around was dark, confused, and terrified. Our Lord, on the contrary, was from the moment that he declared himself to be the Son of God, generally surrounded with a halo of light. Many of the assembly appeared to have a confused knowledge of this fact, and to be filled with consternation at perceiving that neither outrages or ignominies could alter the majestic expression of his countenance. The halo which shone around Jesus from the moment he declared himself to be the Christ, the Son of the Living God, served but to incite his enemies to greater fury, and yet it was so resplendent that they could not look at it, and I believe their intention in throwing the dirty rag over his head was to deaden its brightness. CHAPTER X. The Denial of St. Peter At the moment when Jesus uttered the words, 'Thou hast said it,' and the High Priest rent his garment, the whole room resounded with tumultuous cries. Peter and John, who had suffered intensely during the scene which had just been enacted, and which they had been obliged to witness in silence, could bear the sight no longer. Peter therefore got up to leave the room, and John followed soon after. The latter went to the Blessed Virgin, who was in the house of Martha with the holy women, but Peter's love for Jesus was so great, that he could not make up his mind to leave him; his heart was bursting, and he wept bitterly, although he endeavoured to restrain and hide his tears. It was impossible for him to remain in the tribunal, as his deep emotion at the sight of his beloved Master's sufferings would have betrayed him; therefore he went into the vestibule and approached the fire, around which soldiers and common people were sitting and talking in the most heartless and disgusting manner concerning the sufferings of Jesus, and relating all that they themselves had done to him. Peter was silent, but his silence and dejected demeanour made the bystanders suspect something. The portress came up to the fire in the midst of the conversation, cast a bold glance at Peter and said, 'Thou also wast with Jesus the Galilean.' These words startled and alarmed Peter; he trembled as to what might ensue if he owned the truth before his brutal companions, and therefore answered quickly, 'Woman, I know him not,' got up, and left the vestibule. At this moment the cock crowed somewhere in the outskirts of the town. I do not remember hearing it, but I felt that is was crowing. As he went out, another maid-servant looked at him, and said to those who were with her, 'This man was also with him,' and the persons she addressed immediately demanded of Peter whether her words were true, saying, 'Art thou not one of this man's disciples?' Peter was even more alarmed than before, and renewed his denial in these words, 'I am not; I know not the man.' He left the inner court, and entered the exterior court; he was weeping, and so great was his anxiety and grief, that he did not reflect in the least on the words he had just uttered. The exterior court was quite filled with persons, and some had climbed on to the top of the wall to listen to what was going on in the inner court which they were forbidden to enter. A few of the disciples were likewise there, for their anxiety concerning Jesus was so great that they could not make up their minds to remain concealed in the caves of Hinnom. They came up to Peter, and with many tears questioned him concerning their loved Master, but he was so unnerved and so fearful of betraying himself, that he briefly recommended them to go away, as it was dangerous to remain, and left them instantly. He continued to indulge his violent grief, while they hastened to leave the town. I recognised among these disciples, who were about sixteen in number, Bartholomew, Nathaniel, Saturninus, Judas Barsabeas, Simon, who was afterwards bishop of Jerusalem, Zacheus, and Manahem, the man who was born blind and cured by our Lord. Peter could not rest anywhere, and his love for Jesus prompted him to return to the inner court, which he was allowed to enter, because Joseph of Arimathea and Nicodemus had, in the first instance, taken him in. He did not re-enter the vestibule, but turned to the right and went towards the round room which was behind the tribunal, and in which Jesus was undergoing every possible insult and ignominy from his cruel enemies. Peter walked timidly up to the door, and although perfectly conscious that he was suspected by all present of being a partisan of Jesus, yet he could not remain outside; his love for his Master impelled him forward; he entered the room, advanced, and soon stood in the very midst of the brutal throng who were feasting their cruel eyes on the sufferings of Jesus. They were at that moment dragging him ignominiously backwards and forwards with the crown of straw upon his head; he cast a sorrowful and even severe glance upon Peter, which cut him to the heart, but as he was still much alarmed, and at that moment heard some of the bystanders call out, 'Who is that man?' he went back again into the court, and seeing that the persons in the vestibule were watching him, came up to the fire and remained before it for some time. Several persons who had observed his anxious troubled countenance began to speak in opprobrious terms of Jesus, and one of them said to him, 'Thou also art one of his disciples; thou also art a Galilean; thy very speech betrays thee.' Peter got up, intending to leave the room, when a brother of Malchus came up to him and said, 'Did I not see thee in the garden with him? Didst thou not cut off my brother's ear?' Peter became almost beside himself with terror; he began to curse and to swear 'that he knew not the man,' and ran out of the vestibule into the outer court; the cock then crowed again, and Jesus, who at that moment was led across the court, cast a look of mingled compassion and grief upon his Apostle. This look of our Lord pierced Peter to the very heart,--it recalled to his mind in the most forcible and terrible manner the words addressed to him by our Lord on the previous evening: 'Before the cock crows twice, thou shalt thrice deny me.' He had forgotten all his promises and protestations to our Lord, that he would die rather than deny him--he had forgotten the warning given to him by our Lord;--but when Jesus looked at him, he felt the enormity of his fault, and his heart was nigh bursting with grief. He had denied his Lord, when that beloved Master was outraged, insulted, delivered up into the hands of unjust judges,--when he was suffering all in patience and in silence. His feelings of remorse were beyond expression; he returned to the exterior court, covered his face and wept bitterly; all fear of being recognised was over;--he was ready to proclaim to the whole universe both his fault and his repentance. What man will dare assert that he would have shown more courage than Peter if, with his quick and ardent temperament, he were exposed to such danger, trouble, and sorrow, at a moment, too, when completely unnerved between fear and grief, and exhausted by the sufferings of this sad night? Our Lord left Peter to his own strength, and he was weak; like all who forget the words: 'Watch and pray, that ye enter not into temptation.' CHAPTER XI. Mary in the House of Caiphas. The Blessed Virgin was ever united to her Divine Son by interior spiritual communications; she was, therefore, fully aware of all that happened to him--she suffered with him, and joined in his continual prayer for his murderers. But her maternal feelings prompted her to supplicate Almighty God most ardently not to suffer the crime to be completed, and to save her Son from such dreadful torments. She eagerly desired to return to him; and when John, who had left the tribunal at the moment the frightful cry, 'He is guilty of death,' was raised, came to the house of Lazarus to see after her, and to relate the particulars of the dreadful scene he had just witnessed, she, as also Magdalen and some of the other holy women, begged to be taken to the place where Jesus was suffering. John, who had only left our Saviour in order to console her whom he loved best next to his Divine Master, instantly acceded to their request, and conducted them through the streets, which were lighted up by the moon alone, and crowded with persons hastening to their home. The holy women were closely veiled; but the sobs which they could not restrain made many who passed by observe them, and their feelings were harrowed by the abusive epithets they overheard bestowed upon Jesus by those who were conversing on the subject of his arrest. The Blessed Virgin, who ever beheld in spirit the opprobrious treatment which her dear Son was receiving, continued 'to lay up all these things in her heart;' like him she suffered in silence; but more than once she became totally unconscious. Some disciples of Jesus, who were returning from the hall of Caiphas, saw her fainting in the arms of the holy women, and, touched with pity, stopped to look at her compassionately, and saluted her in these words: 'Hail! Unhappy Mother--hail, Mother of the Most Holy One of Israel, the most afflicted of all mothers!' Mary raised her head, thanked them gratefully, and continued her sad journey. When in the vicinity of Caiphas's house, their grief was renewed by the sight of a group of men who were busily occupied under a tent, making the cross ready for our Lord's crucifixion. The enemies of Jesus had given orders that the cross should be prepared directly after his arrest, that they might without delay execute the sentence which they hoped to persuade Pilate to pass on him. The Romans had already prepared the crosses of the two thieves, and the workmen who were making that of Jesus were much annoyed at being obliged to labour at it during the night; they did not attempt to conceal their anger at this, and uttered the most frightful oaths and curses, which pierced the heart of the tender Mother of Jesus through and through; but she prayed for these blind creatures who thus unknowingly blasphemed the Saviour who was about to die for their salvation, and prepared the cross for his cruel execution. Mary, John, and the holy women traversed the outer court attached to Caiphas's house. They stopped under the archway of a door which opened into the inner court. Mary's heart was with her Divine Son, and she desired most ardently to see this door opened, that she might again have a chance of beholding him, for she knew that it alone separated her from the prison where he was confined. The door was at length opened, and Peter rushed out, his face covered with his mantle, wringing his hands, and weeping bitterly. By the light of the torches he soon recognised John and the Blessed Virgin, but the sight of them only renewed those dreadful feelings of remorse which the look of Jesus had awakened in his breast. Mary approached him instantly, and said, 'Simon, tell me, I entreat you, what is become of Jesus, my Son?' These words pierced his very heart; he could not even look at her, but turned away, and again wrung his hands. Mary drew close to him, and said in a voice trembling with emotion: 'Simon, son of John, why dost thou not answer me?'--Mother!' exclaimed Peter, in a dejected tone, 'O, Mother, speak not to me--thy Son is suffering more than words can express: speak not to me! They have condemned him to death, and I have denied him three times.' John came up to ask a few more questions, but Peter ran out of the court as if beside himself, and did not stop for a single moment until he reached the cave at Mount Olivet--that cave on the stones of which the impression of the hands of our Saviour had been miraculously left. I believe it is the cave in which Adam took refuge to weep after his fall. The Blessed Virgin was inexpressibly grieved at hearing of the fresh pang inflicted on the loving heart of her Divine Son, the pang of hearing himself denied by that disciple who had first acknowledged him as the Son of the Living God; she was unable to support herself, and fell down on the door-stone, upon which the impression of her feet and hands remains to the present day. I have seen the stones, which are preserved somewhere, but I cannot at this moment remember where. The door was not again shut, for the crowd was dispersing, and when the Blessed Virgin came to herself, she begged to be taken to some place as near as possible to her Divine Son. John, therefore, led her and the holy women to the front of the prison where Jesus was confined. Mary was with Jesus in spirit, and Jesus was with her; but this loving Mother wished to hear with her own ear the voice of her Divine Son. She listened and heard not only his moans, but also the abusive language of those around him. It was impossible for the holy women to remain in the court any longer without attracting attention. The grief of Magdalen was so violent that she was unable to conceal it; and although the Blessed Virgin, by a special grace from Almighty God, maintained a calm and dignified exterior in the midst of her sufferings, yet even she was recognised, and overheard harsh words, such as these: 'Is not that the Mother of the Galilean? Her Son will most certainly be executed, but not before the festival, unless, indeed, he is the greatest of criminals.' The Blessed Virgin left the court, and went up to the fireplace in the vestibule, where a certain number of persons were still standing. When she reached the spot where Jesus had said that he was the Son of God, and the wicked Jews cried out, 'He is guilty of death,' she again fainted, and John and the holy women carried her away, in appearance more like a corpse than a living person. The bystanders said not a word; they seemed struck with astonishment, and silence, such as might have been produced in hell by the passage of a celestial being, reigned in that vestibule. The holy women again passed the place where the cross was being prepared; the workmen appeared to find as much difficulty in completing it as the judges had found in pronouncing sentence, and were obliged to fetch fresh wood every moment, for some bits would not fit, and others split; this continued until the different species of wood were placed in the cross according to the intentions of Divine Providence. I saw angels who obliged these men to recommence their work, and who would not let them rest, until all was accomplished in a proper manner; but my remembrance of this vision is indistinct. CHAPTER XII. Jesus confined in the subterranean Prison. The Jews, having quite exhausted their barbarity, shut Jesus up in a little vaulted prison, the remains of which subsist to this day. Two of the archers alone remained with him, and they were soon replaced by two others. He was still clothed in the old dirty mantle, and covered with the spittle and other filth which they had thrown over him; for they had not allowed him to put on his own clothes again, but kept his hands tightly bound together. When our Lord entered this prison, he prayed most fervently that his Heavenly Father would accept all that he had already suffered, and all that he was about to suffer, as an expiatory sacrifice, not only for his executioners, but likewise for all who in future ages might have to suffer torments such as he was about to endure, and be tempted to impatience or anger. The enemies of our Lord did not allow him a moment's respite, even in this dreary prison, but tied him to a pillar which stood in the centre, and would not allow him to lean upon it, although he was so exhausted from ill treatment, the weight of his chains, and his numerous falls, that he could scarcely support himself on his swollen and torn feet. Never for a moment did they cease insulting him; and when the first set were tired out, others replaced them. It is quite impossible to describe all that the Holy of Holies suffered from these heartless beings; for the sight affected me so excessively that I became really ill, and I felt as if I could not survive it. We ought, indeed, to be ashamed of that weakness and susceptibility which renders us unable to listen composedly to the descriptions, or speak without repugnance, of those sufferings which our Lord endured so calmly and patiently for our salvation. The horror we feel is as great as that of a murderer who is forced to place his hands upon the wound he himself has inflicted on his victim. Jesus endured all without opening his mouth; and it was man, sinful man, who perpetrated all these outrages against one who was at once their Brother, their Redeemer, and their God. I, too, am a great sinner, and my sins cause these sufferings. At the day of judgment, when the most hidden things will be manifested, we shall see the share we have had in the torments endured by the Son of God; we shall see how far we have caused them by the sins we so frequently commit, and which are, in fact, a species of consent which we give to, and a participation in, the tortures which were inflicted on Jesus by his cruel enemies. If, alas! we reflected seriously on this, we should repeat with much greater fervour the words which we find so often in prayer books: 'Lord, grant that I may die, rather than ever wilfully offend thee again by sin.' Jesus continued to pray for his enemies, and they being at last tired out left him in peace for a short time, when he leaned against the pillar to rest, and a bright light shone around him. The day was beginning to dawn,--the day of his Passion, of our Redemption,--and a faint ray penetrating the narrow vent-hole of the prison, fell upon the holy and immaculate Lamb, who had taken upon himself the sins of the world. Jesus turned towards the ray of light, raised his fettered hands, and, in the most touching manner, returned thanks to his Heavenly Father for the dawn of that day, which had been so long desired by the prophets, and for which he himself had so ardently sighed from the moment of his birth on earth, and concerning which he had said to his disciples, 'I have a baptism wherewith I am to be baptised, and how am I straitened until it be accomplished!' I prayed with him; but I cannot give the words of his prayer, for I was so completely overcome, and touched to hear him return thanks to his Father for the terrible sufferings which he had already endured for me, and for the still greater which he was about to endure. I could only repeat over and over with the greatest fervour, 'Lord, I beseech thee, give me these sufferings: they belong to me: I have deserved them in punishment for my sins.' I was quite overwhelmed with feelings of love and compassion when I looked upon him thus welcoming the first dawn of the great day of his Sacrifice, and that ray of light which penetrated into his prison might, indeed, be compared to the visit of a judge who wishes to be reconciled to a criminal before the sentence of death which he has pronounced upon him is executed. The archers, who were dozing, woke up for a moment, and looked at him with surprise: they said nothing, but appeared to be somewhat astonished and frightened. Our Divine Lord was confined in this prison an hour, or thereabouts. Whilst Jesus was in this dungeon, Judas, who had been wandering up and down the valley of Hinnom like a madman, directed his step towards the house of Caiphas, with the thirty pieces of silver, the reward of his treachery, still hanging to his waist. All was silent around, and he addressed himself to some of the sentinels, without letting them know who he was, and asked what was going to be done to the Galilean. 'He has been condemned to death, and he will certainly be crucified,' was the reply. Judas walked to and fro, and listened to the different conversations which were held concerning Jesus. Some spoke of the cruel treatment he had received, other of his astonishing patience, while others, again discoursed concerning the solemn trial which was to take place in the morning before the great Council. Whilst the traitor was listening eagerly to the different opinions given, day dawned; the members of the tribunal commenced their preparations, and Judas slunk behind the building that he might not be seen, for like Cain he sought to hide himself from human eyes, and despair was beginning to take possession of his soul. The place in which he took refuge happened to be the very spot where the workmen had been preparing the wood for making the cross of our Lord; all was in readiness, and the men were asleep by its side. Judas was filled with horror at the sight: he shuddered and fled when he beheld the instrument of that cruel death to which for a paltry sum of money he had delivered up his Lord and Master; he ran to and fro in perfect agonies of remorse, and finally hid himself in an adjoining cave, where he determined to await the trial which was to take place in the morning. CHAPTER XIII. The Morning Trial. Caiphas, Annas, the ancients, and the scribes assembled in the morning in the great hall of the tribunal, to have a legal trial, as meetings at night were not lawful, and could only be looked upon in the light of preparatory audiences. The majority of the members had slept in the house of Caiphas, where beds had been prepared for them, but some, and among them Nicodemus and Joseph of Arimathea, had gone home, and returned at the dawn of day. The meeting was crowded, and the members commenced their operations in the most hurried manner possible. They wished to condemn Jesus to death at once, but Nicodemus, Joseph, and some others opposed their wishes and demanded that the decision should be deferred until after the festival, for fear of causing an insurrection among the people, maintaining likewise that no criminal could be justly condemned upon charges which were not proved, and that in the case now before them all the witnesses contradicted one another. The High Priests and their adherents became very angry, and told Joseph and Nicodemus, in plain terms, that they were not surprised at their expressing displeasure at what had been done, because they were themselves partisans of the Galilean and his doctrines, and were fearful of being convicted. The High Priest even went so far as to endeavour to exclude from the Council all those members who were in the lightest degree favourable to Jesus. These members protested that they washed their hands of all the future proceedings of the Council, and leaving the room went to the Temple, and from this day never again took their seats in the Council. Caiphas then ordered the guards to bring Jesus once more into his presence, and to prepare everything for taking him to Pilate's court directly he should have pronounced sentence. The emissaries of the Council hurried off to the prison, and with their usual brutality untied the hands of Jesus, dragged off the old mantle which they had thrown over his shoulders, made him put on his own soiled garment, and having fastened ropes round his waist, dragged him out of the prison. The appearance of Jesus, when he passed through the midst of the crowd who were already assembled in the front of the house, was that of a victim led to be sacrificed; his countenance was totally changed and disfigured from ill-usage, and his garments stained and torn; but the sight of his sufferings, far from exciting a feeling of compassion in the hard hearted Jews, simply filled them with disgust, and increased their rage. Pity was, indeed, a feeling unknown in their cruel breasts. Caiphas, who did not make the slightest effort to conceal his hatred, addressed our Lord haughtily in these words: 'If thou be Christ , tell us plainly.' Then Jesus raised his head, and answered with great dignity and calmness, 'If I shall tell you, you will not believe me; and if I shall also ask you, you will not answer me, or let me go. But hereafter the Son of Man shall be sitting on the right hand of the power of God.' The High Priests looked at one another, and said to Jesus, with a disdainful laugh, 'Art thou, then, the Son of God?' And Jesus answered, with the voice of eternal truth, 'You say that I am.' At these words they all exclaimed, 'What need we any further testimony? For we ourselves have heard it from his own mouth.' They all arose instantly and vied with each other as to who should heap the most abusive epithets upon Jesus, whom they termed a low-born miscreant, who aspired to being their Messiah, and pretended to be entitled to sit at the right hand of God. They ordered the archers to tie his hands again, and to fasten a chain round his neck (this was usually done to criminals condemned to death), and they then prepared to conduct him to Pilate's hall, where a messenger had already been dispatched to beg him to have all in readiness for trying a criminal, as it was necessary to make no delay on account of the festival day. The Jewish Priests murmured among themselves at being obliged to apply to the Roman governor for the confirmation of their sentence, but it was necessary, as they had not the right of condemning criminals excepting for things which concerned religion and the Temple alone, and they could not pass a sentence of death. They wished to prove that Jesus was an enemy to the emperor, and this accusation concerned those departments which were under Pilate's jurisdiction. The soldiers were all standing in front of the house, surrounded by a large body of the enemies of Jesus, and of common persons attracted by curiosity. The High Priests and a part of the Council walked at the head of the procession, and Jesus, led by archers, and guarded by soldiers, followed, while the mob brought up the rear. They were obliged to descend Mount Sion, and cross a part of the lower town to reach Pilate's palace, and many priests who had attended the Council went to the Temple directly afterwards, as it was necessary to prepare for the festival. CHAPTER XIV. The Despair of Judas Whilst the Jews were conducting Jesus to Pilate, the traitor Judas walked about listening to the conversation of the crowd who followed, and his ears were struck by words such as these: 'They are taking him before Pilate; the High Priests have condemned the Galilean to death; he will be crucified; they will accomplish his death; he has been already dreadfully illtreated; his patience is wonderful, he answers not; his only words are that he is the Messiah, and that he will be seated at the right hand of God; they will crucify him on account of those words; had he not said them they could not have condemned him to death. The miscreant who sold him was one of his disciples; and had a short time before eaten the Paschal lamb with him; not for worlds would I have had to do with such an act; however guilty the Galilean may be, he has not at all events sold his friend for money; such an infamous character as this disciple is infinitely more deserving of death.' Then, but too late, anguish, despair, and remorse took possession of the mind of Judas. Satan instantly prompted him to fly. He fled as if a thousand furies were at his heel, and the bag which was hanging at his side struck him as he ran, and propelled him as a spur from hell; but he took it into his hand to prevent its blows. He fled as fast as possible, but where did he fly? Not towards the crowd, that he might cast himself at the feet of Jesus, his merciful Saviour, implore his pardon, and beg do die with him,--not to confess his fault with true repentance before God, but to endeavour to unburden himself before the world of his crime, and of the price of his treachery. He ran like one beside himself into the Temple, where several members of the Council had gathered together after the judgment of Jesus. They looked at one another with astonishment; and then turned their haughty countenances, on which a smile of irony was visible, upon Judas. He with a frantic gesture tore the thirty pieces of silver from his side, and holding them forth with his right hand, exclaimed in accents of the most deep despair, 'Take back your silver--that silver with which you bribed me to betray this just man; take back your silver; release Jesus; our compact is at an end; I have sinned grievously, for I have betrayed innocent blood.' The priests answered him in the most contemptuous manner, and, as if fearful of contaminating themselves by the contact of the reward of the traitor, would not touch the silver he tended, but replied, 'What have we to do with thy sin? If thou thinkest to have sold innocent blood, it is thine own affair; we know what we have paid for, and we have judged him worthy of death. Thou hast thy money, say no more.' They addressed these words to him in the abrupt tone in which men usually speak when anxious to get rid of a troublesome person, and instantly arose and walked away. These words filled Judas with such rage and despair that he became almost frantic: his hair stood on end on his head; he rent in two the bag which contained the thirty pieces of silver, cast them down in the Temple, and fled to the outskirts of the town. I again beheld him rushing to and fro like a madman in the valley of Hinnom: Satan was by his side in a hideous form, whispering in his ear, to endeavour to drive him to despair, all the curses which the prophets had hurled upon this valley, where the Jews formerly sacrificed their children to idols. It appeared as if all these maledictions were directed against him, as in these words, for instance: 'They shall go forth, and behold the carcases of those who have sinned against me, whose worm dieth not, and whore fires shall never be extinguished.' Then the devil murmured in his ears, 'Cain, where is thy brother Abel? What hast thou done?--his blood cries to me for vengeance: thou art cursed upon earth, a wanderer for ever.' When he reached the torrent of Cedron, and saw Mount Olivet, he shuddered, turned away, and again the words vibrated in his ear, 'Friend, whereto art thou come? Judas, dost thou betray the Son of Man with a kiss?' Horror filled his soul, his head began to wander, and the arch fiend again whispered, 'It was here that David crossed the Cedron when he fled from Absalom. Absalom put an end to his life by hanging himself. It was of thee that David spoke when he said: "And they repaid me evil for good; hatred for my love. May the devil stand at his right hand; when he is judged, may he go out condemned. May his days be few, and his bishopric let another take. May the iniquity of his father be remembered in the sight of the Lord, and let not the sin of his mother be blotted out, because he remembered not to show mercy, but persecuted the poor man and the beggar and the broken in heart, to put him to death. And he loved cursing, and it shall come unto him. And he put on cursing like a garment, and it went in like water into his entrails, and like oil into his bones. May it be unto him like a garment which covereth him; and like a girdle, with which he is girded continually." Overcome by these terrible thoughts Judas rushed on, and reached the foot of the mountain. It was a dreary, desolate spot filled with rubbish and putrid remains; discordant sounds from the city reverberated in his ears, and Satan continually repeated, 'They are now about to put him to death; thou has sold him. Knowest thou not the words of the law, "He who sells a soul among his brethren, and receives the price of it, let him die the death"? Put an end to thy misery, wretched one; put an end to thy misery.' Overcome by despair Judas tore off his girdle, and hung himself on a tree which grew in a crevice of the rock, and after death his body burst asunder, and his bowels were scattered around. CHAPTER XV. Jesus is taken before Pilate. The malicious enemies of our Saviour led him through the most public part of the town to take him before Pilate. The procession wended its way slowly down the north side of the mountain of Sion, then passed through that section on the eastern side of the Temple, called Acre, towards the palace and tribunal of Pilate, which were seated on the north-west side of the Temple, facing a large square. Caiphas, Annas, and many others of the Chief Council, walked first in festival attire; they were followed by a multitude of scribes and many other Jews, among whom were the false witnesses, and the wicked Pharisees who had taken the most prominent part in accusing Jesus. Our Lord followed at a short distance; he was surrounded by a band of soldiers, and led by the archers. The multitude thronged on all sides and followed the procession, thundering forth the most fearful oaths and imprecations, while groups of persons were hurrying to and fro, pushing and jostling one another. Jesus was stripped of all save his under garment, which was stained and soiled by the filth which had been flung upon it; a long chain was hanging round his neck, which struck his knees as he walked; his hands were pinioned as on the previous day, and the archers dragged him by the ropes which were fastened round his waist. He tottered rather than walked, and was almost unrecognisable from the effects of his sufferings during the night;--he was colourless, haggard, his face swollen and even bleeding, and his merciless persecutors continued to torment him each moment more and more. They had gathered together a large body of the dregs of the people, in order to make his present disgraceful entrance into the city a parody on his triumphal entrance on Palm Sunday. They mocked, and with derisive gestures called him king, and tossed in his path stones, bits of wood; and filthy rags; they made game of, and by a thousand taunting speeches mocked him, during this pretended triumphal entry. In the corner of a building, not far from the house of Caiphas, the afflicted Mother of Jesus, with John and Magdalen, stood watching for him. Her soul was ever united to his; but propelled by her love, she left no means untried which could enable her really to approach him. She remained at the Cenacle for some time after her midnight visit to the tribunal of Caiphas, powerless and speechless from grief; but when Jesus was dragged forth from his prison, to be again brought before his judges, she arose, cast her veil and cloak about her, and said to Magdalen and John: 'Let us follow my Son to Pilate's court; I must again look upon him.' They went to a place through which the procession must pass, and waited for it. The Mother of Jesus knew that her Son was suffering dreadfully, but never could she have conceived the deplorable, the heartrending condition to which he was reduced by the brutality of his enemies. Her imagination had depicted him to her as suffering fearfully, but yet supported and illuminated by sanctity, love, and patience. Now, however, the sad reality burst upon her. First in the procession appeared the priests, those most bitter enemies of her Divine Son. They were decked in flowing robes; but at, terrible to say, instead of appearing resplendent in their character of priests of the Most High, they were transformed into priests of Satan, for no one could look upon their wicked countenances without beholding there, portrayed in vivid colours, the evil passions with which their souls were filled--deceit, infernal cunning, and a raging anxiety to carry out that most tremendous of crimes, the death of their Lord and Saviour, the only Son of God. Next followed the false witnesses, his perfidious accusers, surrounded by the vociferating populace; and last of all--himself--her Son--Jesus, the Son of God, the Son of Man, loaded with chains, scarcely able to support himself, but pitilessly dragged on by his infernal enemies, receiving blows from some, buffets from others, and from the whole assembled rabble curses, abuse, and the most scurrilous language. He would have been perfectly unrecognisable even to her maternal eyes, stripped as he was of all save a torn remnant of his garment, had she not instantly marked the contrast between his behaviour and that of his vile tormentors. He alone in the midst of persecution and suffering looked calm and resigned, and far from returning blow for blow, never raised his hands but in acts of supplication to his Eternal Father for the pardon of his enemies. As he approached, she was unable to restrain herself any longer, but exclaimed in thrilling accents: 'Alas! is that my Son? Ah, yes! I see that it is my beloved Son. O, Jesus, my Jesus!' When the procession was almost opposite, Jesus looked upon her with an expression of the greatest love and compassion; this look was too much for the heartbroken mother: she became for the moment totally unconscious, and John and Magdalen endeavoured to carry her home, but she quickly roused herself, and accompanied the beloved disciple to Pilate's house. The inhabitants of the town of Ophel were all gathered together in an open space to meet Jesus, but far from administering comfort, they added a fresh ingredient to his cup of sorrow; they inflicted upon him that sharp pang which must ever be felt by those who see their friends abandon them in the hour of adversity. Jesus had done much for the inhabitants of Ophel, but no sooner did they see him reduced to such a state of misery and degradation, than their faith was shaken; they could no longer believe him to be a king, a prophet, the Messiah, and the Son of God. The Pharisees jeered and made game of them, on account of the admiration they had formerly expressed for Jesus. 'Look at your king now,' they exclaimed; 'do homage to him; have you no congratulations to offer him now that he is about to be crowned , and seated on his throne? All his boasted miracles are at an end; the High Priest has put an end to his tricks and witchcraft.' Notwithstanding the remembrance which these poor people had of the miracles and wonderful cures which had been performed under their very eyes by Jesus; notwithstanding the great benefits he had bestowed upon them, their faith was shaken by beholding him thus derided and pointed out as an object of contempt by the High Priest and the members of the Sanhedrin, who were regarded in Jerusalem with the greatest veneration. Some went away doubting, while others remained and endeavoured to join the rabble, but they were prevented by the guards, who had been sent by the Pharisees, to prevent riots and confusion. CHAPTER XVI. Description of Pilate's Palace and the adjacent Buildings. The palace of the Roman governor, Pilate, was built on the north-west side of the mountain on which the Temple stood, and to reach it persons were obliged to ascend a flight of marble steps. It overlooked a large square surrounded by a colonnade, under which the merchants sat to sell their various commodities. A parapet, and an entrance at the north, south, east, and west sides alone broke the uniformity of this part of the market-place, which was called the forum, and built on higher ground than the adjacent streets, which sloped down from it. The palace of Pilate was not quite close, but separated by a large court, the entrance to which at the eastern side was through a high arch facing a street leading to the door called the 'Probatica,' on the road to the Mount of Olives. The southern entrance was through another arch, which leads to Sion, in the neighbourhood of the fortress of Acre. From the top of the marble steps of Pilate's palace, a person could see across the court as far as the forum, at the entrance of which a few columns and stone seats were placed. It was at these seats that the Jewish priests stopped, in order not to defile themselves by entering the tribunal of Pilate, a line traced on the pavement of the court indicating the precise boundary beyond which they could not pass without incurring defilement. There was a large parapet near the western entrance, supported by the sides of Pilate's Praetorium, which formed a species of porch between it and the square. That part of Pilate's palace which he made use of when acting in the capacity of judge, was called the Praetorium. A number of columns surrounded the parapet of which we have just spoken, and in the centre was an uncovered portion, containing an underground part, where the two thieves condemned to be crucified with our Lord were confined, and this part was filled with Roman soldiers. The pillar upon which our Lord was scourged was placed on the forum itself, not far from this parapet and the colonnade. There were many other columns in this place; those nearest to the palace were made use of for the infliction of various corporal punishments, and the others served as posts to which were fastened the beasts brought for sale. Upon the forum itself, opposite this building, was a platform filled with seats made of stone; and from this platform, which was called Gabbatha, Pilate was accustomed to pronounce sentence on great criminals. The marble staircase ascended by persons going to the governor's palace led likewise to an uncovered terrace, and it was from this terrace that Pilate gave audience to the priests and Pharisees, when they brought forward their accusations against Jesus. They all stood before him in the forum, and refused to advance further than the stone seats before mentioned. A person speaking in a loud tone of voice from the terrace could be easily heard by those in the forum. Behind Pilate's palace there were many other terraces, and likewise gardens, and a country house. The gardens were between the palace of the governor and the dwelling of his wife, Claudia Procles. A large moat separated these buildings from the mountain on which the Temple stood, and on this side might be seen the houses inhabited by those who served in the Temple. The palace of Herod the elder was placed on the eastern side of Pilate's palace; and it was in its inner court that numbers of the Innocents were massacred. At present the appearance of these two buildings is a little altered, as their entrances are changed. Four of the principal streets commenced at this part of the town, and ran in a southerly direction, three leading to the forum and Pilate's palace, and the fourth to the gate through which persons passed on their way to Bethsur. The beautiful house which belonged to Lazarus, and likewise that of Martha, were in a prominent part of this street. One of these streets was very near to the Temple, and began at the gate which was called Probatica. The pool of Probatica was close to this gate on the right hand side, and in this pool the sheep were washed for the first time, before being taken to the Temple; while the second and more solemn washing took place in the pool of Bethsaida, which is near the south entrance to the Temple. The second of the above-mentioned streets contained a house belonging to St. Anna, the mother of the Blessed Virgin, which she usually inhabited when she came up to Jerusalem with her family to offer sacrifice in the Temple. I believe it was in this house that the espousals of St. Joseph and the Blessed Virgin were celebrated. The forum, as I have already explained, was built on higher ground than the neighbouring streets, and the aqueducts which ran through these streets flowed into the Probatica pool. On Mount Sion, directly opposite to the old castle of King David, stood a building very similar to the forum, while to the south-east might be seen the Cenacle, and a little towards the north the tribunals of Annas and Caiphas. King David's castle was a deserted fortress, filled with courts, empty rooms, and stables, generally let to travellers. It had long been in this state of ruin, certainly before the time of our Lord's nativity. I saw the Magi with their numerous retinue enter it before going into Jerusalem. When in meditation I behold the ruins of old castles and temples, see their neglected and forlorn state, and reflect on the uses to which they are now put, so different from the intentions of those who raised them, my mind always reverts to the events of our own days, when so many of the beautiful edifices erected by our pious and zealous ancestors are either destroyed, defaced, or used for worldly, if not wicked purposes. The little church of our convent, in which our Lord deigned to dwell, notwithstanding our unworthiness, and which was to me a paradise upon earth, is now without either roof or windows, and all the monuments are effaced or carried away. Our beloved convent, too, what will be done with it in a short time? That convent, where I was more happy in my little cell with my broken chair, than a king could be on his throne, for from its window I beheld that part of the church which contained the Blessed Sacrament. In a few years, perhaps, no one will know that it ever existed,--no one will know that it once contained hundreds of souls consecrated to God, who spent their days in imploring his mercy upon sinners. But God will know all, he never forgets,--the past and the future are equally present to him. He it is who reveals to me events which took place so long ago, and on the day of judgment, when all must be accounted for, and every debt paid, even to the farthing, he will remember both the good and the evil deeds performed in places long since forgotten. With God there is no exception of persons or places, his eyes see all, even the Vineyard of Naboth. It is a tradition among us that our convent was originally founded by two poor nuns, whose worldly possessions consisted in a jar of oil and a sack of beans. On the last day God will reward them for the manner in which they put out this small talent to interest, and for the large harvest which they reaped and presented to him. It is often said that poor souls remain in purgatory in punishment for what appears to us so small a crime as not having made restitution of a few coppers of which they had unlawful possession. May God therefore have mercy upon those who have seized the property of the poor, or of the Church. CHAPTER XVII. Jesus before Pilate. It was about eight in the morning, according to our method of counting time, when the procession reached the palace of Pilate. Annas, Caiphas, and the chiefs of the Sanhedrin stopped at a part between the forum and the entrance to the Praetorium, where some stone seats were placed for them. The brutal guards dragged Jesus to the foot of the flight of stairs which led to the judgment-seat of Pilate. Pilate was reposing in a comfortable chair, on a terrace which overlooked the forum, and a small three-legged table stood by his side, on which was placed the insignia of his office, and a few other things. He was surrounded by officers and soldiers dressed with the magnificence usual in the Roman army. The Jews and the priests did not enter the Praetorium, for fear of defiling themselves, but remained outside. When Pilate saw the tumultuous procession enter, and perceived how shamefully the cruel Jews had treated their prisoner, he arose, and addressed them in a tone as contemptuous as could have been assumed by a victorious general towards the vanquished chief of some insignificant village: 'What are you come about so early? Why have you illtreated this prisoner so shamefully? Is it not possible to refrain from thus tearing to pieces and beginning to execute your criminals even before they are judged?' They made no answer, but shouted out to the guards, 'Bring him on--bring him to be judged!' and then, turning to Pilate, they said, 'Listen to our accusations against this malefactor; for we cannot enter the tribunal lest we defile ourselves.' Scarcely had they finished these words; when a voice was heard to issue from the midst of the dense multitude; it proceeded from a venerable-looking old man, of imposing stature, who exclaimed, 'You are right in not entering the Praetorium, for it has been sanctified by the blood of Innocents; there is but one Person who has a right to enter, and who alone can enter, because he alone is pure as the Innocents who were massacred there.' The person who uttered these words in a loud voice, and then disappeared among the crowd, was a rich man of the name of Zadoc, first-cousin to Obed, the husband of Veronica; two of his children were among the Innocents whom Herod had caused to be butchered at the birth of our Saviour. Since that dreadful moment he had given up the world, and, together with his wife, followed the rules of the Essenians. He had once seen our Saviour at the house of Lazarus, and there heard him discourse, and the sight of the barbarous manner in which he was dragged before Pilate recalled to his mind all he himself had suffered when his babes were so cruelly murdered before his eyes, and he determined to give this public testimony of his belief in the innocence of Jesus. The persecutors of our Lord were far too provoked at the haughty manner which Pilate assumed towards them, and at the humble position they were obliged to occupy, to take any notice of the words of a stranger. The brutal guards dragged our Lord up the marble staircase, and led him to the end of the terrace, from whence Pilate was conferring with the Jewish priests. The Roman governor had often heard of Jesus, although he had never seen him, and now he was perfectly astonished at the calm dignity of department of a man brought before him in so pitiable a condition. The inhuman behaviour of the priests and ancients both exasperated him and increased his contempt for them, and he informed them pretty quickly that the had not the slightest intention of condemning Jesus without satisfactory proofs of the truth of their accusation. 'What accusation do you bring against this man?' said he, addressing the priests in the most scornful tone possible. 'If he were not a malefactor we would not have delivered him up to thee,' replied the priests sullenly. 'Take him,' said Pilate, 'and judge you him according to your law.' 'Thou knowest well,' replied they, 'that it is not lawful for us to condemn any man to death.' The enemies of Jesus were furious--they wished to have the trial finished off, and their victim executed as quickly as possible, that they might be ready at the festival-day to sacrifice the Paschal lamb, not knowing, miserable wretches as they were, that he whom they had dragged before the tribunal of an idolatrous judge (into whose house they would not enter, for fear of defiling themselves before partaking of the figurative victim), that he, and he alone, was the true Paschal Lamb, of which the other was only the shadow. Pilate, however, at last ordered them to produce their accusations. These accusations were three in number, and they brought forward ten witnesses to attest the truth of each. Their great aim was to make Pilate believe that Jesus was the leader of a conspiracy against the emperor, in order that he might condemn him to death as a rebel. They themselves were powerless in such matters, being allowed to judge none but religious offences. Their first endeavour was to convict him of seducing the people, exciting them to rebellion, and of being an enemy to public peace and tranquillity. To prove these charges they brought forward some false witnesses, and declared likewise that he violated the Sabbath, and even profaned it by curing the sick upon that day. At this accusation Pilate interrupted them, and said in a jeering tone, 'It is very evident you were none of you ill yourselves--had you been so you would not have complained of being cured on the Sabbath-day.' 'He seduces the people, and inculcates the most disgusting doctrines. He even says, that no person can attain eternal life unless they eat his flesh and drink his blood.' Pilate was quite provoked at the intense hatred which their words and countenances expressed and, turning from them with a look of scorn, exclaimed, 'You most certainly must wish to follow his doctrines and to attain eternal life, for you are thirsting for both his body and blood.' The Jews then brought forward the second accusation against Jesus, which was that he forbad the people to pay tribute to the emperor. These words roused the indignation of Pilate, as it was his place to see that all the taxes were properly paid, and he exclaimed in an angry tone, 'That is a lie! I must know more about it than you.' This obliged the enemies of our Lord to proceed to the third accusation, which they did in words such as these: 'Although this man is of obscure birth, he is the chief of a large party. When at their head, he denounces curses upon Jerusalem, and relates parables of double meaning concerning a king who is preparing a wedding feast for his son. The multitude whom he had gathered together on a mountain endeavoured once to make him their king; but it was sooner than he intended: his plans were not matured; therefore he fled and hid himself. Latterly he has come forward much more: it was but the other day that he entered Jerusalem at the head of a tumultuous assembly, who by his orders made the people rend the air with acclamations of "Hosanna to the Son of David! Blessed be the empire of our Father David, which is now beginning." He obliges his partisans to pay him regal honours, and tells them that he is the Christ, the Anointed of the Lord, the Messiah, the king promised to the Jews, and he wishes to be addressed by these fine titles.' Then witnesses gave testimony concerning these things. The last accusation--that of Jesus causing himself to be called king--made some impression upon Pilate; he became a little thoughtful, left the terrace and, casting a scrutinising glance on Jesus, went into the adjoining apartment, and ordered the guards to bring him alone into his presence. Pilate was not only superstitious, but likewise extremely weak-minded and susceptible. He had often, during the course of his pagan education, heard mention made of sons of his gods who had dwelt for a time upon earth; he was likewise fully aware that the Jewish prophets had long foretold that one should appear in the midst of them who should be the Anointed of the Lord, their Saviour, and Deliverer from slavery; and that many among the people believed this firmly. He remembered likewise that kings from the east had come to Herod, the predecessor of the present monarch of that name, to pay homage to a newly-born king of the Jews, and that Herod had on this account given orders for the massacre of the Innocents. He had often heard of the traditions concerning the Messiah and the king of the Jews, and even examined them with some curiosity; although of course, being a pagan, without the slightest belief. Had he believed at all, he would probably have agreed with the Herodians, and with those Jews who expected a powerful and victorious king. With such impressions, the idea of the Jews accusing the poor miserable individual whom they had brought into his presence of setting himself up as the promised king and Messiah, of course appeared to him absurd; but as the enemies of Jesus brought forward these charges in proof of treason against the emperor, he thought it proper to interrogate him privately concerning them. 'Art thou the king of the Jews,' said Pilate, looking at our Lord, and unable to repress his astonishment at the divine expression of his countenance. Jesus made answer, 'Sayest thou this thing of thyself, or have others told it thee of me?' Pilate was offended that Jesus should think it possible for him to believe such a thing, and answered, 'Am I a Jew? Thy own nation and the chief priests have delivered thee up to me as deserving of death: what hast thou done?' Jesus answered majestically, 'My kingdom is not of this world. If my kingdom were of this world, my servants would certainly strive that I should not be delivered to the Jews; but now my kingdom is not from hence.' Pilate was somewhat moved by these solemn words, and said to him in a more serious tone, 'Art thou a king, then?' Jesus answered, 'Thou sayest that I am a king. For this was I born, and for this I came into the world, that I should give testimony to the truth. Everyone that is of the truth heareth my voice.' Pilate looked at him, and rising from his seat said, 'The truth! What is truth?' They then exchanged a few more words, which I do not now remember, and Pilate returned to the terrace. The answers and deportment of Jesus were far beyond his comprehension; but he saw plainly that his assumption of royalty would not clash with that of the emperor, for that it was to no worldly kingdom that he laid claim; whereas the emperor cared for nothing beyond this world. He therefore again addressed the chief priests from the terrace, and said, 'I find no cause in him.' The enemies of Jesus became furious, and uttered a thousand different accusations against our Saviour. But he remained silent, solely occupied in praying for his base enemies, and replied not when Pilate addressed him in these words, 'Answerest thou nothing? Behold in how many things they accuse thee!' Pilate was filled with astonishment, and said, 'I see plainly that all they allege is false.' But his accusers, whose anger continued to increase, cried out, 'You find no cause in him? Is it no crime to incite the people to revolt in all parts of the kingdom?--to spread his false doctrines, not only here, but in Galilee likewise?' The mention of Galilee made Pilate pause: he reflected for a moment, and then asked, 'Is this man a Galilean, and a subject of Herod's?' They made answer, 'He is; his parents lived at Nazareth, and his present dwelling is in Capharnaum.' 'Since that is the case,' replied Pilate, 'take him before Herod; he is here for the festival, and can judge him at once, as he is his subject.' Jesus was immediately led out of the tribunal, and Pilate dispatched an officer to Herod, to inform him that Jesus of Nazareth, who was his subject, was about to be brought to him to be judged. Pilate had two reasons for following this line of conduct; in the first place he was delighted to escape having to pass sentence himself, as he felt very uncomfortable about the whole affair; and in the second place he was glad of an opportunity of pleasing Herod, with whom he had had a disagreement, for he knew him to be very curious to see Jesus. The enemies of our Lord were enraged at being thus dismissed by Pilate in the presence of the whole multitude, and gave vent to their anger by ill-treating him even more than before. They pinioned him afresh, and then ceased not overwhelming him with curses and blows as they led him hurriedly through the crowd, towards the palace of Herod, which was situated at no great distance from the forum. Some Roman soldiers had joined the procession. During the time of the trial Claudia Procles, the wife of Pilate, had sent him frequent messages to intimate that she wished extremely to speak to him; and when Jesus was sent to Herod, she placed herself on a balcony and watched the cruel conduct of his enemies with mingled feelings of fear, grief, and horror. CHAPTER XVIII. The Origin of the Way of the Cross. During the whole of the scene which we have just described, the Mother of Jesus, with Magdalen and John, had stood in a recess in the forum: they were overwhelmed with the most bitter sorrow, which was but increased by all they heard and saw. When Jesus was taken before Herod, John led the Blessed Virgin and Magdalen over the parts which had been sanctified by his footsteps. They again looked at the house of Caiphas, that of Annas, Ophel, Gethsemani, and the Garden of Olives; they stopped and contemplated each spot where he had fallen, or where he had suffered particularly; and they wept silently at the thought of all he had undergone. The Blessed Virgin knelt down frequently and kissed the ground where her Son had fallen, while Magdalen wrung her hands in bitter grief, and John, although he could not restrain his own tears, endeavoured to console his companions, supported and led them on. Thus was the holy devotion of the 'Way of the Cross' first practised; thus were the Mysteries of the Passion of Jesus first honoured, even before that Passion was accomplished, and the Blessed Virgin, that model of spotless purity, was the first to show forth the deep veneration felt by the Church for our dear Lord. How sweet and consoling to follow this Immaculate Mother, passing to and fro, and bedewing the sacred spots with her tears. But, ah! Who can describe the sharp, sharp sword of grief which then transfixed her tender soul? She who had once borne the Saviour of the world in her chaste womb, and suckled him for so long,--she who had truly conceived him who was the Word of God, in God from all eternity, and truly God,--she beneath whose heart, full of grace, he had deigned to dwell nine months, who had felt him living within her before he appeared among men to impart the blessing of salvation and teach them his heavenly doctrines; she suffered with Jesus, sharing with him not only the sufferings of his bitter Passion, but likewise that ardent desire of redeeming fallen man by an ignominious death, which consumed him. In this touching manner did the most pure and holy Virgin lay the foundation of the devotion called the Way of the Cross; thus at each station, marked by the sufferings of her Son, did she lay up in her heart the inexhaustible merits of his Passion, and gather them up as precious stones or sweet-scented flowers to be presented as a choice offering to the Eternal Father in behalf of all true believers. The grief of Magdalen was so intense as to make her almost like an insane person. The holy and boundless love she felt for our Lord prompted her to cast herself at his feet, and there pour forth the feelings of her heart (as she once poured the precious ointment on his head as he sat at table); but when on the point of following this impulse, a dark gulf appeared to intervene between herself and him. The repentance she felt for her faults was immense, and not less intense was her gratitude for their pardon; but when she longed to offer acts of love and thanksgiving as precious incense at the feet of Jesus, she beheld him betrayed, suffering, and about to die for the expiation of her offences which he had taken upon himself, and this sight filled her with horror, and almost rent her soul asunder with feelings of love, repentance, and gratitude. The sight of the ingratitude of those for whom he was about to die increased the bitterness of these feelings tenfold, and every step, word, or movement demonstrated the agony of her soul. The heart of John was filled with love, and he suffered intensely, but he uttered not a word. He supported the Mother of his beloved Master in this her first pilgrimage through the stations of the Way of the Cross, and assisted her in giving the example of that devotion which has since been practised with so much fervour by the members of the Christian Church. CHAPTER XIX. Pilate and his Wife. Whilst the Jews were leading Jesus to Herod, I saw Pilate go to his wife, Claudia Procles. She hastened to meet him, and they went together into a small garden-house which was on one of the terraces behind the palace. Claudia appeared to be much excited, and under the influence of fear. She was a tall, fine-looking woman, although extremely pale. Her hair was plaited and slightly ornamented, but partly covered by a long veil which fell gracefully over her shoulders. She wore earrings, a necklace, and her flowing dress was drawn together and held up by a species of clasp. She conversed with Pilate for a long time, and entreated him by all that he held sacred not to injure Jesus, that Prophet, that saint of saints; and she related the extraordinary dreams or visions which she had had on the previous night concerning him. Whilst she was speaking I saw the greatest part of these visions: the following were the most striking. In the first place, the principal events in the life of our Lord--the annunciation, the nativity, the adoration of the shepherds and that of the kings, the prophecy of Simeon and that of Anna, the flight into Egypt, the massacre of the Innocents, and our Lord's temptation in the wilderness. She had likewise been shown in her sleep the most striking features of the public life of Jesus. He always appeared to her environed with a resplendent light, but his malicious and cruel enemies were under the most horrible and disgusting forms imaginable. She saw his intense sufferings, his patience, and his inexhaustible love, likewise the anguish of his Mother, and her perfect resignation. These visions filled the wife of Pilate with the greatest anxiety and terror, particularly as they were accompanied by symbols which made her comprehend their meaning, and her tender feelings were harrowed by the sight of such dreadful scenes. She had suffered from them during the whole of the night; they were sometimes obscure, but more often clear and distinct; and when morning dawned and she was roused by the noise of the tumultuous mob who were dragging Jesus to be judged, she glanced at the procession and instantly saw that the unresisting victim in the midst of the crows, bound, suffering, and so inhumanely treated as to be scarcely recognisable, was no other than that bright and glorious being who had been so often brought before her eyes in the visions of the past night. She was greatly affected by this sight, and immediately sent for Pilate, and gave him an account of all that had happened to her. She spoke with much vehemence and emotion; and although there was a great deal in what she had seen which she could not understand, much less express, yet she entreated and implored her husband in the most touching terms to grant her request. Pilate was both astonished and troubled by the words of his wife. He compared the narration with all he had previously heard concerning Jesus; and reflected on the hatred of the Jews, the majestic silence of our Saviour, and the mysterious answers he had given to all his questions. He hesitated for some time, but was at last overcome by the entreaties of his wife, and told her that he had already declared his conviction of the innocence of Jesus, and that he would not condemn him, because he saw that the accusations were mere fabrications of his enemies. He spoke of the words of Jesus to himself, promised his wife that nothing should induce him to condemn this just man, and even gave her a ring before they parted as a pledge of his promise. The character of Pilate was debauched and undecided, but his worst qualities were an extreme pride and meanness which made him never hesitate in the performance of an unjust action, provided it answered his ends. He was excessively superstitious, and when in any difficulty had recourse to charms and spells. He was much puzzled and alarmed about the trial of Jesus; and I saw him running backwards and forwards, offering incense first to one god and then to another, and imploring them to assist him; but Satan filled his imagination with still greater confusion; he first instilled one false idea and then another into his mind. He then had recourse to one of his favourite superstitious practices, that of watching the sacred chickens eat, but in vain,--his mind remained enveloped in darkness, and he became more and more undecided. He first thought that he would acquit our Saviour, whom he well knew to be innocent, but then he feared incurring the wrath of his false gods if he spared him, as he fancied he might be a species of demigod, and obnoxious to them. 'It is possible,' said he inwardly, 'that this man may really be that king of the Jews concerning whose coming there are so many prophecies. It was a king of the Jews whom the Magi came from the East to adore. Perhaps he is a secret enemy both of our gods and of the emperor; it might be most imprudent in me to spare his life. Who knows whether his death would not be a triumph to my gods?' Then he remembered the wonderful dreams described to him by his wife, who had never seen Jesus, and he again changed, and decided that it would be safer not to condemn him. He tried to persuade himself that he wished to pass a just sentence; but he deceived himself, for when he asked himself, 'What is the truth?' he did not wait for the answer. His mind was filled with confusion, and he was quite at a loss how to act, as his sole desire was to entail no risk upon himself. CHAPTER XX. Jesus before Herod. The palace of the Tetrarch Herod was built on the north side of the forum, in the new town; not very far from that of Pilate. An escort of Roman soldiers, mostly from that part of the country which is situated between Switzerland and Italy, had joined the procession. The enemies of Jesus were perfectly furious at the trouble they were compelled to take in going backwards and forwards, and therefore vented their rage upon him. Pilate's messenger had preceded the procession, consequently Herod was expecting them. He was seated on a pile of cushions, heaped together so as to form a species of throne, in a spacious hall, and surrounded by courtiers and warriors. The Chief Priests entered and placed themselves by his side, leaving Jesus at the entrance. Herod was much elated and pleased at Pilate's having thus publicly acknowledged his right of judging the Galileans, and likewise rejoiced at seeing that Jesus who had never deigned to appear before him reduced to such a state of humiliation and degradation. His curiosity had been greatly excited by the high terms in which John the Baptist had announced the coming of Jesus, and he had likewise heard much about him from the Herodians, and through the many spies whom he had sent into different parts: he was therefore delighted at this opportunity of interrogating him in the presence of the courtiers and of the Jewish priests, hoping to make a grand display of this own knowledge and talents. Pilate having sent him word, 'that he could find no cause in the man,' he concluded that these words were intended as a hint that he (Pilate) wished the accusers to be treated with contempt and mistrust. He, therefore, addressed them in the most haughty distant manner possible, and thereby increased their rage and anger indescribably. They all began at once to vociferate their accusations, to which Herod hardly listened, being intent solely on gratifying his curiosity by a close examination of Jesus, whom he had so often wished to see. But when he beheld him stripped of all clothing save the remnant of a mantel, scarcely able to stand, and his countenance totally disfigured from the blows he had received, and from the mud and missiles which the rabble had flung at his head, the luxurious and effeminate prince turned away in disgust, uttered the name of God, and said to the priests in a tone of mingled pity and contempt, 'Take him hence, and bring him not back into my presence in such a deplorable state.' The guards took Jesus into the outer court, and procured some water in a basin, with which they cleansed his soiled garments and disfigured countenance; but they could not restrain their brutality even while doing this, and paid no regard to the wounds with which he was covered. Herod meantime accosted the priests in much the same strain as Pilate had done. 'Your behaviour vastly resembles that of butchers,' he said, 'and you commence your immolations pretty early in the morning.' The Chief Priests produced their accusations at once. Herod, when Jesus was again brought into his presence, pretended to feel some compassion, and offered him a glass of wine to recruit his strength; but Jesus turned his head away and refused this alleviation. Herod then began to expatiate with great volubility on all he had heard concerning our Lord. He asked a thousand questions, and exhorted him to work a miracle in his presence; but Jesus answered not a word, and stood before him with his eyes cast down, which conduct both irritated and disconcerted Herod, although he endeavoured to conceal his anger, and continued his interrogations. He at first expressed surprise, and made use of persuasive words. 'Is it possible, Jesus of Nazareth,' he exclaimed, 'that it is thou thyself that appearest before me as a criminal? I have heard thy actions so much spoken of. Thou art not perhaps aware that thou didst offend me grievously by setting free the prisoners whom I had confined at Thirza, but possibly thy intentions were good. The Roman governor has now sent thee to me to be judged; what answer canst thou give to all these accusations? Thou art silent? I have heard much concerning thy wisdom, and the religion thou teachest, let me hear thee answer and confound thy enemies. Art thou the king of the Jews? Art thou the Son of God? Who art thou? Thou art said to have performed wonderful miracles; work one now in my presence. I have the power to release thee. Is it true that thou hast restored sight to the blind, raised up Lazarus from the dead, and fed two or three thousand persons with a few loaves? Why dost thou not answer? I recommend thee to work a miracle quickly before me; perhaps thou mayest rejoice afterwards at having complied with my wishes.' Jesus still kept silence, and Herod continued to question him with even more volubility. 'Who art thou?' said he. 'From whence hast thou thy power? How is it that thou dost no longer possess it? Art thou he whose birth was foretold in such a wonderful manner? Kings from the East came to my father to see a newly-born king of the Jews: is it true that thou wast that child? Didst thou escape when so many children were massacred, and how was thy escape managed? Why hast thou been for so many years unknown? Answer my questions! Art thou a king? Thy appearance certainly is not regal. I have been told that thou wast conducted to the Temple in triumph a short time ago. What was the meaning of such an exhibition?--speak out at once!--Answer me!' Herod continued to question Jesus in this rapid manner; but our Lord did not vouchsafe a reply. I was shown (as indeed I already knew) that Jesus was thus silent because Herod was in a state of excommunication, both on account of his adulterous marriage with Herodias, and of his having given orders for the execution of St. John the Baptist. Annas and Caiphas, seeing how indignant Herod was at the silence of Jesus, immediately endeavoured to take advantage of his feelings of wrath, and recommenced their accusations, saying that he had called Herod himself a fox; that his great aim for many years had been the overthrow of Herod's family; that he was endeavouring to establish a new religion, and had celebrated the Pasch on the previous day. Although Herod was extremely enraged at the conduct of Jesus, he did not lose sight of the political ends which he wished to forward. He was determined not to condemn our Lord, both because he experienced a secret and indefinable sensation of terror in his presence, and because he still felt remorse at the thought of having put John the Baptist to death, besides which he detested the High Priests for not having allowed him to take part in the sacrifices on account of his adulterous connection with Herodias. But his principal reason for determining not to condemn Jesus was, that he wished to make some return to Pilate for his courtesy, and he thought the best return would be the compliment of showing deference to his decision and agreeing with him in opinion. But he spoke in the most contemptuous manner to Jesus, and turning to the guards and servants who surrounded him, and who were about two hundred in number, said: 'Take away this fool, and pay him that homage which is his due; he is mad, rather than guilty of any crime.' Our Lord was immediately taken into a large court, where every possible insult and indignity was heaped upon him. This court was between the two wings of the palace, and Herod stood a spectator on a platform for some time. Annas and Caiphas were by his side, endeavouring to persuade him to condemn our Saviour. But their efforts were fruitless, and Herod answered in a tone loud enough to be heard by the Roman soldiers: 'No, I should act quite wrongly if I condemned him.' His meaning was, that it would be wrong to condemn as guilty one whom Pilate had pronounced innocent, although he had been so courteous as to defer the final judgment to him. When the High Priests and the other enemies of Jesus perceived that Herod was determined no to give in to their wishes, they dispatched emissaries to that division of the city called Acre, which was chiefly inhabited by Pharisees, to let them know that they must assemble in the neighbourhood of Pilate's palace, gather together the rabble, and bribe them to make a tumult, and demand the condemnation of our Lord. They likewise sent forth secret agents to alarm the people by threats of the divine vengeance if they did not insist on the execution of Jesus, whom they termed a sacrilegious blasphemer. These agents were ordered likewise to alarm them by intimating that if Jesus were not put to death, he would go over to the Romans, assist in the extermination of the Jewish nation, for that it was to this he referred when he spoke of his future kingdom. They endeavoured to spread a report in other parts of the city, that Herod had condemned him, but still that it was necessary for the people likewise to express their wishes, as his partisans were to be feared; for that if he were released he would join the Romans, make a disturbance on the festival day, and take the most inhuman revenge. Some among them circulated contradictory and alarming reports, in order to excite the people and cause an insurrection; while others distributed money among the soldiers to bribe them to ill-treat Jesus, so as to cause his death, which they were most anxious should be brought about as quickly as possible, lest Pilate should acquit him. Whilst the Pharisees were busying themselves in this manner, our Blessed Saviour was suffering the greatest outrages from the brutal soldiers to whom Herod had delivered him, that they might deride him as a fool. They dragged him into the court, and one of their number having procured a large white sack which had once been filled with cotton, they made a hole in its centre with a sword, and then tossed it over the head of Jesus, accompanying each action with bursts of the most contemptuous laughter. Another soldier brought the remnant of an old scarlet cloak, and passed it round his neck, while the rest bent their knee before him--shoved him--abused him--spat upon him--struck him on the check, because he had refused to answer their king, mocked him by pretending to pay homage--threw mud upon him--seized him by the waist, pretending to make him dance; then, having thrown him down, dragged him through a gutter which ran on the side of the court, thus causing his sacred head to strike against the columns and sides of the wall, and when at last they raised him up, it was only in order to recommence their insults. The soldiers and servants of Herod who were assembled in this court amounted to upwards of two hundred, and all thought to pay court to their monarch by torturing Jesus in some unheard-of way. Many were bribed by the enemies of our Lord to strike him on the head with their sticks, and they took advantage of the confusion and tumult to do so. Jesus looked upon them with compassion; excess of pain drew from him occasional moans and groans, but his enemies rejoiced in his sufferings, and mocked his moans, and not one among the whole assembly showed the slightest degree of compassion. I saw blood streaming from his head, and three times did the blows prostrate him, but angels were weeping at his side, and they anointed his head with heavenly balsam. It was revealed to me that had it not been for this miraculous assistance he must have died from those wounds. The Philistines at Gaza, who gave vent to their wrath by tormenting poor blind Samson; were far less barbarous than these cruel executioners of our Lord. The priests were, however, impatient to return to the Temple; therefore, having made certain that their orders regarding Jesus would be obeyed, they returned to Herod, and endeavoured to persuade him to condemn our Lord. But he, being determined to do all in his power to please Pilate, refused to accede to their wishes, and sent Jesus back again clothed in the fool's garment. CHAPTER XXI. Jesus led back from the Court of Herod to that of Pilate. The enemies of Jesus were perfectly infuriated at being obliged to take Jesus back, still uncondemned, to Pilate, who had so many times declared his innocence. They led him round by a much longer road, in order in the first place to let the persons of that part of the town see him in the state of ignominy to which he was reduced, and in the second place to give their emissaries more time to stir up the populace. This road was extremely rough and uneven; and the soldiers, encouraged by the Pharisees, scarcely refrained a moment from tormenting Jesus. The long garment with which he was clothed impeded his steps, and caused him to fall heavily more than once; and his cruel guards, as also many among the brutal populace, instead of assisting him in his state of exhaustion, endeavoured by blows and kicks to force him to rise. To all these outrages Jesus offered not the smallest resistance; he prayed constantly to his Father for grace and strength that he might not sink under them, but accomplish the work of his Passion for our redemption. It was about eight o'clock when the procession reached the palace of Pilate. The crowd was dense, and the Pharisees might be seen walking to and fro, endeavouring to incite and infuriate them still more. Pilate, who remembered an insurrection which had taken place the year before at the Paschal time, had assembled upwards of a thousand soldiers, whom he posted around the Praetorium, the Forum, and his palace. The Blessed Virgin, her elder sister Mary (the daughter of Heli), Mari (the daughter of Cleophas), Magdalen, and about twenty of the holy women, were standing in a room from whence they could see all which took place, and at first John was with them. The Pharisees led Jesus, still clothed in the fool's garment, through the midst of the insolent mob, and had done all in their power to gather together the most vile and wicked of miscreants from among the dregs of the people. A servant sent by Herod had already reached Pilate, with a message to the effect that his master had fully appreciated his polite deference to his opinion, but that he looked upon the far famed Galilean as not better than a fool, that he had treated him as such, and now sent him back. Pilate was quite satisfied at finding that Herod had come to the same conclusion as himself, and therefore returned a polite message. From that hour they became friends, having been enemies many years; in fact, ever since the falling-in of the aqueduct. [The cause of the quarrel between Pilate and Herod was, according to the account of Sister Emmerich, simply this: Pilate had undertaken to build an aqueduct on the south-east side of the mountain on which the Temple stood, at the edge of the torrent into which the waters of the pool of Bethsaida emptied themselves, and this aqueduct was to carry off the refuse of the Temple. Herod, through the medium of one of his confidants, who was a member of the Sanhedrin, agreed to furnish him with the necessary materials, as also with twenty-eight architects, who were also Herodians. His aim was to set the Jews still more against the Roman governor, by causing the undertaking to fail. He accordingly came to a private understanding with the architects, who agreed to construct the aqueduct in such a manner that it would be certain to fail. When the work was almost finished, and a number of bricklayers from Ophel were busily employed in removing the scaffolding, the twenty-eight builders went on to the top of the Tower of Siloe to contemplate the crash which they knew must take place. Not only did the whole of the building crumble to pieces, fall, and kill ninety-three workmen, but even the tower containing the twenty-eight architects came down, and not one escaped death. This accident occurred a short time previous to the 8th of January, two years after Jesus had commenced preaching; it took place on Herod's birthday, the same day that John the Baptist was beheaded in the Castle of Marcherunt. No Roman officer attended these festivities on account of the affair of the aqueduct, although Pilate had, with hypocritical politeness, been requested to take a part in them. Sister Emmerich saw some of the disciples of Jesus carry the news of this event into Samaria, where he was teaching, on the 8th of January. Jesus went from thence to Hebron, to comfort the family of John; and she saw him, on the 13th of January, cure many among the workmen of Ophel who had been injured by the fall of the aqueduct. We have seen by the relation previously given how little gratitude they showed him. The enmity of Herod towards Pilate was still farther increased by the manner in which the latter revenged himself on the followers of Herod. We will insert here a few details which were communicated at different times to Sister Emmerich. On the 25th of March, of the second year of our Lord's preaching, when Jesus and his disciples were in the neighbourhood of Bethania, they were warned by Lazarus that Judas of Gaulon intended to excite an insurrection against Pilate. On the 28th of March, Pilate issued a proclamation to the effect that he intended to impose a tax, the proceeds of which were partly to cover the expenses he had incurred in raising the building which had just fallen to the ground. This announcement was followed by a sedition headed by Judas of Gaulon, who always stood up for liberty, and who was (unknown to himself) a tool in the hands of the Herodians. The Herodians were rather like our Freemasons. On the 30th of March, at ten o'clock p.m., Jesus, dressed in a dark garment, was teaching in the Temple, with his Apostles and thirty disciples. The revolt of the Galileans against Pilate burst forth on this very day, and the rebels set free fifty of their number who had been imprisoned the day before; and many among the Romans were killed. On the 6th of April, Pilate caused the Galileans to be massacred at the moment of offering sacrifice, by disguised soldiers whom he had concealed in the Temple. Judas was killed with his companions. This massacre exasperated Herod still more against Pilate, and we have just seen by what means their reconciliation was effected.] Jesus was again led to the house of Pilate. The archers dragged him up the stairs with their usual brutality; his feet became entangled in his long robe, and he fell upon the white marble steps, which were stained with blood from his sacred head. His enemies had again taken their seats at the entrance of the forum; the mob laughed at his fall, and the archers truck their innocent victim, instead of assisting him to rise. Pilate was reclining on a species of easy-chair, with a little table before him, and surrounded with officers and persons who held strips of parchment covered with writing in their hands. He came forward and said to the accusers of Jesus: 'You have presented unto me this man, as one that perverteth the people, and behold I, having examined him before you, find no cause in this man in those things wherein you accuse him. No, nor Herod neither. For I sent you to him, and behold, nothing worthy of death is done to him. I will chastise him, therefore, and release him.' When the Pharisees heard these words, they became furious, and endeavoured to the utmost of their power to persuade the people to revolt, distributing money among them to effect this purpose. Pilate looked around with contempt, and addressed them in scornful words. It happened to be the precise time when, according to an ancient custom, the people had the privilege of demanding the deliverance of one prisoner. The Pharisees had dispatched emissaries to persuade the people to demand the death, and not the life, of our Lord. Pilate hoped that they would ask for Jesus, and determined to give them to choose between him and a criminal called Barabbas, who had been convicted of a dreadful murder committed during a sedition, as also of many other crimes, and was, moreover, detested by the people. There was considerable excitement among the crowd; a certain portion came forward, and their orators, addressing Pilate in a loud voice, said: 'Grant us the favour you have always granted on the festival day.' Pilate made answer: 'It is customary for me to deliver to you a criminal at the Paschal time; whom will you that I release to you, Barabbas, or Jesus that is called Christ?' Although Pilate did not in his own mind feel at all certain that Jesus was the King of the Jews, yet he called him so, partly because his Roman pride made him take delight in humbling the Jews by calling such a despicable-looking person their king; and partly because he felt a kind of inward belief that Jesus might really be that miraculous king, that Messiah who had been promised. He saw plainly that the priests were incited by envy alone in their accusations against Jesus; this made him most anxious to disappoint them; and the desire was increased by that glimmering of the truth which partly enlightened his mind. There was some hesitation among the crowd when Pilate asked this question, and a few voices answered, 'Barabbas.' A servant sent by Pilate's wife asked for him at this moment; he left the platform, and the messenger presented the pledge which he had given her, saying at the same time: 'Claudia Procles begs you to remember your promise this morning.' The Pharisees and the priests walked anxiously and hastily about among the crowd, threatening some and ordering others, although, in fact, little was required to incite the already infuriated multitude. Mary, with Magdalen, John, and the holy women, stood in a corner of the forum, trembling and weeping; for although the Mother of Jesus was fully aware that the redemption of man could not be brought about by any other means than the death of her Son, yet she was filled with the anguish of a mother, and with a longing desire to save him from those tortures and from that death which he was about to suffer. She prayed God not to allow such a fearful crime to be perpetrated; she repeated the words of Jesus in the Garden of Olives: 'If it is possible, let this chalice pass away.' She still felt a glimmering of hope, because there was a report current that Pilate wished to acquit Jesus. Groups of persons, mostly inhabitants of Capharnaum, where Jesus had taught, and among whom he had wrought so many miraculous cures, were congregated in her vicinity; they pretended not to remember either her or her weeping companions; they simply cast a glance now and then, as if by chance, at their closely-veiled figures. Many thought, as did her companions likewise, that these persons at least would reject Barabbas, and beg for the life of their Saviour and Benefactor; but these hopes were, alas, fallacious. Pilate sent back the pledge to his wife, as an assurance of his intention to keep his promise. He again came forward on the platform, and seated himself at the little table. The Chief Priests took their seats likewise, and Pilate once more demanded: 'Which of the two am I to deliver up to you?' A general cry resounded through the hall: 'Not this man, but Barabbas!' 'But what am I to do with Jesus, who is called Christ?' replied Pilate. All exclaimed in a tumultuous manner: 'Let him be crucified! Let him be crucified!' 'But what evil has he done?' asked Pilate for the third time. 'I find no cause in him. I will scourge and then acquit him.' But the cry, 'Crucify him! Crucify him!' burst from the crowd, and the sounds echoed like an infernal tempest; the High Priests and the Pharisees vociferated and hurried backwards and forwards as if insane. Pilate at last yielded; his weak pusillanimous character could not withstand such violent demonstrations; he delivered up Barabbas to the people, and condemned Jesus to be scourged. CHAPTER XXII. The Scourging of Jesus. That most weak and undecided of all judges, Pilate, had several times repeated these dastardly words: 'I find no crime in him: I will chastise him, therefore, and let him go;' to which the Jews had continued to respond, 'Crucify him! Crucify him!' but he determined to adhere to his resolution of not condemning our Lord to death, and ordered him to be scourged according to the manner of the Romans. The guards were therefore ordered to conduct him through the midst of the furious multitude to the forum, which they did with the utmost brutality, at the same time loading him with abuse, and striking him with their staffs. The pillar where criminals were scourged stood to the north of Pilate's palace, near the guard-house, and the executioners soon arrived, carrying whips, rods, and ropes, which they tossed down at its base. They were six in number, dark, swarthy men, somewhat shorter than Jesus; their chests were covered with a piece of leather, or with some dirty stuff; their loins were girded, and their hairy, sinewy arms bare. They were malefactors from the frontiers of Egypt, who had been condemned for their crimes to hard labour, and were employed principally in making canals, and in erecting public buildings, the most criminal being selected to act as executioners in the Praetorium. These cruel men had many times scourged poor criminals to death at this pillar. They resembled wild beasts or demons, and appeared to be half drunk. They struck our Lord with their fists, and dragged him by the cords with which he was pinioned, although he followed them without offering the least resistance, and, finally, they barbarously knocked him down against the pillar. This pillar, placed in the centre of the court, stood alone, and did not serve to sustain any part of the building; it was not very high, for a tall man could touch the summit by stretching out his arm; there was a large iron ring at the top, and both rings and hooks a little lower down. It is quite impossible to describe the cruelty shown by these ruffians towards Jesus: they tore off the mantle with which he had been clothed in derision at the court of Herod, and almost threw prostrate again. Jesus trembled and shuddered as he stood before the pillar, and took off his garments as quickly as he could, but his hands were bloody and swollen. The only return he made when his brutal executioners struck and abused him was, to pray for them in the most touching manner: he turned his face once towards his Mother, who was standing overcome with grief; this look quite unnerved her: she fainted, and would have fallen, had not the holy women who were there supported her. Jesus put his arms round the pillar, and when his hands were thus raised, the archers fastened them to the iron ring which was at the top of the pillar; they then dragged his arms to such a height that his feet, which were tightly bound to the base of the pillar, scarcely touched the ground. Thus was the Holy of Holies violently stretched, without a particle of clothing, on a pillar used for the punishment of the greatest criminals; and then did two furious ruffians who were thirsting for his blood begin in the most barbarous manner to scourge his sacred body from head to foot. The whips or scourges which they first made use of appeared to me to be made of a species of flexible white wood, but perhaps they were composed of the sinews of the ox, or of strips of leather. Our loving Lord, the Son of God, true God and true Man, writhed as a worm under the blows of these barbarians; his mild but deep groans might be heard from afar; they resounded through the air, forming a kind of touching accompaniment to the hissing of the instruments of torture. These groans resembled rather a touching cry of prayer and supplication, than moans of anguish. The clamour of the Pharisees and the people formed another species of accompaniment, which at times as a deafening thunder-storm deadened and smothered these sacred and mournful cries, and in their place might be heard the words, 'Put him to death!' 'Crucify him!' Pilate continued parleying with the people, and when he demanded silence in order to be able to speak, he was obliged to proclaim his wishes to the clamorous assembly by the sound of a trumpet, and at such moments you might again hear the noise of the scourges, the moans of Jesus, the imprecations of the soldiers, and the bleating of the Paschal lambs which were being washed in the Probatica pool, at no great distance from the forum. There was something peculiarly touching in the plaintive bleating of these lambs: they alone appeared to unite their lamentations with the suffering moans of our Lord. The Jewish mob was gathered together at some distance from the pillar at which the dreadful punishment was taking place, and Roman soldiers were stationed in different parts round about. Many persons were walking to and fro, some in silence, others speaking of Jesus in the most insulting terms possible, and a few appearing touched, and I thought I beheld rays of light issuing from our Lord and entering the hearts of the latter. I saw groups of infamous, bold-looking young men, who were for the most part busying themselves near the watch-house in preparing fresh scourges, while others went to seek branches of thorns. Several of the servants of the High Priests went up to the brutal executioners and gave them money; as also a large jug filled with a strong bright red liquid, which quite inebriated them, and increased their cruelty tenfold towards their innocent Victim. The two ruffians continued to strike our Lord with unremitting violence for a quarter of an hour, and were then succeeded by two others. His body was entirely covered with black, blue, and red marks; the blood was trickling down on the ground, and yet the furious cries which issued from among the assembled Jews showed that their cruelty was far from being satiated. The night had been extremely cold, and the morning was dark and cloudy; a little hail had fallen, which surprised everyone, but towards twelve o'clock the day became brighter, and the sun shone forth. The two fresh executioners commenced scourging Jesus with the greatest possible fury; they made use of a different kind of rod,--a species of thorny stick, covered with knots and splinters. The blows from these sticks tore his flesh to pieces; his blood spouted out so as to stain their arms, and he groaned, prayed, and shuddered. At this moment, some strangers mounted on camels passed through the forum; they stopped for a moment, and were quite overcome with pity and horror at the scene before them, upon which some of the bystanders explained the cause of what they witnessed. Some of these travellers had been baptised by John, and others had heard the sermon of Jesus on the mountain. The noise and the tumult of the mob was even more deafening near the house of Pilate. Two fresh executioners took the places of the last mentioned, who were beginning to flag; their scourges were composed of small chains, or straps covered with iron hooks, which penetrated to the bone, and tore off large pieces of flesh at every blow. What word, alas! could describe this terrible--this heartrending scene! The cruelty of these barbarians was nevertheless not yet satiated; they untied Jesus, and again fastened him up with his back turned towards the pillar. As he was totally unable to support himself in an upright position, they passed cords round his waist, under his arms, and above his knees, and having bound his hands tightly into the rings which were placed at the upper part of the pillar, they recommenced scourging him with even greater fury than before; and one among them struck him constantly on the face with a new rod. The body of our Lord was perfectly torn to shreds,--it was but one wound. He looked at his torturers with his eyes filled with blood; as if entreating mercy; but their brutality appeared to increase, and his moans each moment became more feeble. The dreadful scourging had been continued without intermission for three quarters of an hour, when a stranger of lowly birth, a relation to Ctesiphon, the blind man whom Jesus had cured, rushed from amidst the crowd, and approached the pillar with a knife shaped like a cutlass in his hand. 'Cease!' he exclaimed, in an indignant tone; 'Cease! Scourge not this innocent man unto death!' The drunken miscreants, taken by surprise, stopped short, while he quickly severed the cords which bound Jesus to the pillar, and disappeared among the crowd. Jesus fell almost without consciousness on the ground, which was bathed with his blood. The executioners left him there, and rejoined their cruel companions, who were amusing themselves in the guardhouse with drinking, and plaiting the crown of thorns. Our Lord remained for a short time on the ground, at the foot of the pillar, bathed in his own blood, and two or three bold-looking girls came up to gratify their curiosity away in disgust, but at the moment the pain of the wounds of Jesus was so intense that he raised his bleeding head and looked at them. They retired quickly, and the soldiers and guards laughed and made game of them. During the time of the scourging of our Lord, I saw weeping angels approach him many times; I likewise heard the prayers he constantly addressed to his Father for the pardon of our sins--prayers which never ceased during the whole time of the infliction of this cruel punishment. Whilst he lay bathed in his blood I saw an angel present to him a vase containing a bright-looking beverage which appeared to reinvigorate him in a certain degree. The archers soon returned, and after giving him some blows with their sticks, bade him rise and follow them. He raised himself with the greatest difficulty, as his trembling limbs could scarcely support the weight of this body; they did not give him sufficient time to put on his clothes, but threw his upper garment over his naked shoulders and led him from the pillar to the guardhouse, where he wiped the blood which trickled down his face with a corner of his garment. When he passed before the benches on which the High Priests were seated, they cried out, 'Put him to death! Crucify him! Crucify him!' and then turned away disdainfully. The executioners led him into the interior of the guardhouse, which was filled with slaves, archers, hodmen, and the very dregs of the people, but there were no soldiers. The great excitement among the populace alarmed Pilate so much, that he sent to the fortress of Antonia for a reinforcement of Roman soldiers, and posed these well-disciplined troops round the guard-house; they were permitted to talk and to deride Jesus in every possible way, but were forbidden to quit their ranks. These soldiers, whom Pilate had sent for to intimidate the mob, numbered about a thousand. CHAPTER XXIII. Mary during the Scourging of our Lord. I saw the Blessed Virgin in a continual ecstasy during the time of the scourging of her Divine Son; she saw and suffered with inexpressible love and grief all the torments he was enduring. She groaned feebly, and her eyes were red with weeping. A large veil covered her person, and she leant upon Mary of Heli, her eldest sister, who was old and extremely like their mother, Anne.10 Mary of Cleophas, the daughter of Mary of Heli, was there also. The friends of Jesus and Mary stood around the latter; they wore large veils, appeared overcome with grief and anxiety, an were weeping as if in the momentary expectation of death. The dress of Mary was blue; it was long, and partly covered by a cloak made of white wool, and her veil was of rather a yellow white. Magdalen was totally beside herself from grief, and her hair was floating loosely under her veil. When Jesus fell down at the foot of the pillar, after the flagellation, I saw Claudia Procles, the wife of Pilate, sent some large pieces of linen to the Mother of God. I know not whether she thought that Jesus would be set free, and that his Mother would then require linen to dress his wounds, or whether this compassionate lady was aware of the use which would be made of her present. At the termination of the scourging, Mary came to herself for a time, and saw her Divine Son all torn and mangled, being led away by the archers after the scouring: he wiped his eyes, which were filled with blood, that he might look at his Mother, and she stretched out her hands towards him, and continued to look at the bloody traces of his footsteps. I soon after saw Mary and Magdalen approach the pillar where Jesus had been scourged; the mob were at a distance, and they were partly concealed by the other holy women, and by a few kind-hearted persons who had joined them; they knelt down on the ground near the pillar, and wiped up the sacred blood with the linen which Claudia Procles had sent. John was not at that time with the holy women, who were about twenty in number. The sons of Simeon and of Obed, and Veronica, as also the two nephews of Joseph of Arimathea--Aram and Themni--were in the Temple, and appeared to be overwhelmed with grief. It was not more than nine o'clock a.m. when the scourging terminated. CHAPTER XXIV. Interruption of the Visions of the Passion by the Appearance of St. Joseph under the form of a Child. During the whole time of the visions which we have just narrated (that is to say, from the 18th of February until the 8th of March), Sister Emmerich continued to suffer all the mental and bodily tortures which were once endured by our Lord. Being totally immersed in these meditations, and, as it were, dead to exterior objects, she wept and groaned like a person in the hands of an executioner, trembled, shuddered, and writhed on her couch, while her face resembled that of a man about to expire under torture, and a bloody sweat often trickled over her chest and shoulders. She generally perspired so profusely that her bed and clothes were saturated. Her sufferings from thirst were likewise fearful, and she might truly be compared to a person perishing in a desert from the want of water. Generally speaking, her mouth was so parched in the morning, and her tongue so contracted and dried up, that she could not speak, but was obliged by signs and inarticulate sounds to beg for relief. Her constant state of fever was probably brought on by the great pains she endured, added to which she likewise often took upon herself the illnesses and temporal calamities merited by others. It was always necessary for her to rest for a time before relating the different scenes of the Passion, nor was it always that she could speak of what she had seen, and she was even often obliged to discontinue her narrations for the day. She was in this state of suffering on Saturday the 8th of March, and with the greatest difficulty and suffering described the scourging of our Lord which she had seen in the vision of the previous night, and which appeared to be present to her mind during the greatest part of the following day. Towards evening, however, a change took place, and there was an interruption in the course of meditations on the Passion which had latterly followed one another so regularly. We will describe this interruption, in order, in the first place, to give our readers a more full comprehension of the interior life of this most extraordinary person; and, in the second, to enable them to pause for a time to rest their minds, as I well know that meditations on the Passion of our Lord exhaust the weak, even when they remember that it was for their salvation that he suffered and died. The life of Sister Emmerich, both as regarded her spiritual and intellectual existence, invariably harmonised with the spirit of the Church at different seasons of the year. It harmonised even more strongly than man's natural life does with season, or with the hours of the day, and this caused her to be (if we may thus express ourselves) a realisation of the existence and of the various intentions of the Church. Her union with its spirit was so complete, that no sooner did a festival day begin (that is to say, on the eve), than a perfect change took place within her, both intellectually and spiritually. As soon as the spiritual sun of these festival days of the Church was set, she directed all her thoughts towards that which would rise on the following day, and disposed all her prayers, good works, and sufferings for the attainment of the special graces attached to the feast about to commence, like a plant which absorbs the dew, and revels in the warmth and light of the first rays of the sun. These changes did not, as will readily be believed, always take place at the exact moment when the sound of the Angelus announced the commencement of a festival, and summoned the faithful to prayer; for this bell is often, either through ignorance or negligence, rung at the wrong time; but they commenced at the time when the feast really began. If the Church commemorated a sorrowful mystery, she appeared depressed, faint, and almost powerless; but the instant the celebration of a joyful feast commenced, both body and soul revived to a new life, as if refreshed by the dew of new graces, and she continued in this calm, quiet, and happy state, quite released from every kind of suffering, until the evening. These things took place in her soul quite independently of her will; but as she had had from infancy the most ardent desire of being obedient to Jesus and to his Church, God had bestowed upon her those special graces which give a natural facility for practising obedience. Every faculty of her soul was directed towards the Church, in the same manner as a plant which, even if put into a dark cellar, naturally turns its leaves upwards, and appears to seek the light. On Saturday, 8th of March 1823, after sunset, Sister Emmerich had, with the greatest difficulty, portrayed the different events of the scourging of our Lord, and the writer of these pages thought that her mind was occupied in the contemplation of the 'crowning with thorns,' when suddenly her countenance, which was preciously pale and haggard, like that of a person on the point of death, became bright and serene and she exclaimed in a coaxing tone, as if speaking to a child, 'O, that dear little boy! Who is he?--Stay, I will ask him. His name is Joseph. He has pushed his way through the crowd to come to me. Poor child, he is laughing: he knows nothing at all of what is going on. How light his clothing is! I fear he must be cold, the air is so sharp this morning. Wait, my child; let me put something more over you.' After saying these words in such a natural tone of voice that it was almost impossible for those present not to turn round and expect to see the child, she held up a dress which was near her, as would be done by a kind-hearted person wishing to clothe a poor frozen child. The friend who was standing by her bedside had not sufficient time to ask her to explain the words she had spoken, for a sudden change took place, both in her whole appearance and manner, when her attendant pronounced the word obedience,--one of the vows by which she had consecrated herself to our Lord. She instantly came to herself, and, like an obedient child awakening from a sound sleep and starting up at the voice of its mother, she stretched forth her hand, took the rosary and crucifix which were always at her side, arranged her dress, rubbed her eyes, and sat up. She was then carried from her bed to a chair, as she could neither stand nor walk; and it being the time for making her bed, her friend left the room in order to write out what he had heard during the day. On Sunday, the 9th of March, the friend asked her attendant what Sister Emmerich meant the evening before when she spoke of a child called Joseph. The attendant answered, 'She spoke of him again many times yesterday evening; he is the son of a cousin of mine, and a great favourite of hers. I fear that her talking so much about him is a sign that he is going to have an illness, for she said so many times that the poor child was almost without clothing, and that he must be cold.' The friend remembered having often seen this little Joseph playing on the bed of Sister Emmerich, and he supposed that she was dreaming about him on the previous day. When the friend went to see her later in the day to endeavour to obtain a continuation of the narrations of the Passion, he found her, contrary to his expectation, more calm, and apparently better in health than on the previous day. She told him that she had seen nothing more after the scourging of our Lord; and when he questioned her concerning what she had said about little Joseph, she could not remember having spoken of the child at all. He then asked the reason of her being so calm, serene, and apparently well in health; and she answered, 'I always feel thus when Mid-Lent comes, for then the Church sings with Isaias in the introit at Mass: "Rejoice, O, Jerusalem, and come together all you that love her; rejoice with joy, you that have been in sorrow, that you may exult and be filled from the breasts of your consolation." Mid-Lent Sunday is consequently a day of rejoicing; and you may likewise remember that, in the gospel of this day, the Church relates how our Lord fed five thousand men with five loaves and two fishes, of which twelve baskets of fragments remained, consequently we ought to rejoice.' She likewise added, that our Lord had deigned to visit her on that day in the Holy Communion, and that she always felt especial spiritual consolation when she received him on that particular day of the year. The friend cast his eyes on the calendar of the diocese of Munster, and saw that on that day they not only kept Mid-Lent Sunday, but likewise the Feast of St. Joseph, the foster-father of our Lord; he was not aware of this before, because in other places the feast of St. Joseph is kept on the 19th, and he remarked this circumstance to Sister Emmerich, and asked her whether she did not think that was the cause of her speaking about Joseph. She answered that she was perfectly aware of its being the feast of the foster-father of Jesus, but that she had not been thinking of the child of that name. However, a moment after, she suddenly remembered what her thoughts had been the day before, and explained to her friend that the moment the feast of St. Joseph began, her vision of the sorrowful mysteries of the Passion ceased, and were superseded by totally different scenes, in which St. Joseph appeared under the form of a child, and that it was to him that the words we have mentioned above were addressed. We found that when she received these communications the vision was often in the form of a child, especially in those cases when an artist would have made use of that simile to express his ideas. If, for instance, the accomplishment of some Scripture prophecy was being shown to her, she often saw by the side of the illustration a child, who clearly designated the characteristics of such or such a prophet, by his position, his dress, and the manner in which he held in his hand and waved to and fro the prophetic roll appended to a staff. Sometimes, when she was in extreme suffering, a beautiful child, dressed in green, with a calm and serene countenance, would approach, and seat himself in a posture of resignation at the side of her bed, allowing himself to be moved from one side to the other, or even put down on to the ground, without the smallest opposition and constantly looking at her affectionately and consoling her. If, when quite prostrate from illness and the sufferings of others which she had taken upon herself, she entered into communication with a saint, either by participation in the celebration of his feast, or from his relics being brought to her, she sometimes saw passages of the childhood of martyrdom. In her greatest sufferings she was usually consoled, instructed, or reproved (whichever the occasion called for) by apparitions under the form of children. Sometimes, when totally overcome by trouble and distress, she would fall asleep, and be carried back in imagination to the scenes and perils of her childhood. She sometimes dreamed, as her exclamations and gestures demonstrated, that she was once more a little country girl of five years old, climbing over a hedge, caught in the briars, and weeping with fear. These scenes of her childhood were always events which had really occurred, and the words which escaped her showed what was passing in her mind. She would exclaim (as if repeating the words of others): 'Why do you call out so?' 'I will not hold the hedge back until you are quiet and ask me gently to do so.' She had obeyed this injunction when she was a child and caught in the hedge, and she followed the same rule when grown up and suffering from the most terrible trials. She often spoke and joked about the thorn hedge, and the patience and prayer which had then been recommended to her, which admonition she, in after-life, had frequently neglected, but which had never failed her when she had recourse to it. This symbolical coincidence of the events of her childhood with those of her riper years shows that, in the individual no less than in humanity at large, prophetic types may be found. But, to the individual as well as to mankind in general, a Divine Type has been given in the person of our Redeemer, in order that both the one and the other, by walking in his footsteps and with his assistance, may surpass human nature and attain to perfect wisdom and grace with God and man. Thus it is that the will of God is done on earth as in heaven, and that this kingdom is attained by 'men of good will.' She then gave a short account of the visions which had, on the previous night, interrupted her visions of the Passion at the commencement of the feast of St. Joseph. CHAPTER XXV. Description of the Personal Appearance of the Blessed Virgin. While these sad events were taking place I was in Jerusalem, sometimes in one locality and sometimes in another; I was quite overcome, my sufferings were intense, and I felt as if about to expire. During the time of the scourging of my adorable Spouse I sat in the vicinity, in a part which no Jew dared approach, for fear of defiling himself; but I did not fear defilement, I was only anxious for a drop of our Lord's blood to fall upon me, to purify me. I felt so completely heartbroken that I thought I must die as I could not relieve Jesus, and each blow which he received drew from me such sobs and moans that I felt quite astonished at not being driven away. When the executioners took Jesus into the guardhouse, to crown him with thorns, I longed to follow that I might again contemplate him in his sufferings. Then it was that the Mother of Jesus, accompanied by the holy women, approached the pillar and wiped up the blood with which it and the ground around were saturated. The door of the guardhouse was open, and I heard the brutal laughter of the heartless men who were busily employed in finishing off the crown of thorns which they had prepared for our Lord. I was too much affected to weep, but I endeavoured to drag myself near to the place where our Lord was to be crowned with thorns. I once more saw the Blessed Virgin; her countenance was wan and pale, her eyes red with weeping, but the simple dignity of her demeanour cannot be described. Notwithstanding her grief and anguish, notwithstanding the fatigue which she had endured (for she had been wandering ever since the previous evening through the streets of Jerusalem, and across the Valley of Josaphat), her appearance was placid and modest, and not a fold of her dress out of place. She looked majestically around, and her veil fell gracefully over her shoulders. She moved quietly, and although her heart was a prey to the most bitter grief, her countenance was calm and resigned. Her dress was moistened by the dew which had fallen upon it during the night, and by the tears which she had shed in such abundance; otherwise it was totally unsoiled. Her beauty was great, but indescribable, for it was super-human--a mixture of majesty, sanctity, simplicity, and purity. The appearance of Mary Magdalen was totally different; she was taller and more robust, the expression of her countenance showed greater determination, but its beauty was almost destroyed by the strong passions which she had so long indulged, and by the violent repentance and grief she had since felt. It was painful to look upon her; she was the very picture of despair, her long dishevelled hair was partly covered by her torn and wet veil, and her appearance was that of one completely absorbed by woe and almost beside herself from sorrow. Many of the inhabitants of Magdalum were standing near, gazing at her with surprise and curiosity, for they had known her in former days, first in prosperity and afterwards in degradation and consequent misery. They pointed, they even cast mud upon her, but she saw nothing, knew nothing, and felt nothing, save her agonising grief. CHAPTER XXVI. The Crowning with Thorns. No sooner did Sister Emmerich recommence the narrative of her visions on the Passion than she again became extremely ill, oppressed with fever, and so tormented by violent thirst that her tongue was perfectly parched and contracted; and on the Monday after Mid-Lent Sunday, she was so exhausted that it was not without great difficulty, and after many intervals of rest, that she narrated all which our Lord suffered in this crowning with thorns. She was scarcely able to speak, because she herself felt every sensation which she described in the following account: Pilate harangued the populace many times during the time of the scourging of Jesus, but they interrupted him once, and vociferated, 'He shall be executed, even if we die for it.' When Jesus was led into the guardhouse, they all cried out again, 'Crucify him, crucify him!' After this there was silence for a time. Pilate occupied himself in giving different orders to the soldiers, and the servants of the High Priests brought them some refreshments; after which Pilate, whose superstitious tendencies made him uneasy in mind, went into the inner part of his palace in order to consult his gods, and to offer them incense. When the Blessed Virgin and the holy women had gathered up the blood of Jesus, with which the pillar and the adjacent parts were saturated, they left the forum and went into a neighbouring small house, the owner of which I do not know. John was not, I think, present at the scourging of Jesus. A gallery encircled the inner court of the guardhouse where our Lord was crowned with thorns, and the doors were open. The cowardly ruffians, who were eagerly waiting to gratify their cruelty by torturing and insulting our Lord, were about fifty in number, and the greatest part slaves or servants of the jailers and soldiers. The mob gathered round the building, but were soon displaced by a thousand Roman soldiers, who were drawn up in good order and stationed there. Although forbidden to leave their ranks, these soldiers nevertheless did their utmost by laughter and applause to incite the cruel executioners to redouble their insults; and as public applause gives fresh energy to a comedian, so did their words of encouragement increase tenfold the cruelty of these men. In the middle of the court there stood the fragment of a pillar, and on it was placed a very low stool which these cruel men maliciously covered with sharp flints and bits of broken potsherds. Then they tore off the garments of Jesus, thereby reopening all his wounds; threw over his shoulders an old scarlet mantle which barely reached his knees; dragged him to the seat prepared, and pushed him roughly down upon it, having first placed the crown of thorns upon his head. The crown of thorns was made of three branches plaited together, the greatest part of the thorns being purposely turned inwards so as to pierce our Lord's head. Having first placed these twisted branches on his forehead, they tied them tightly together at the back of his head, and no sooner was this accomplished to their satisfaction than they put a large reed into his hand, doing all with derisive gravity as if they were really crowning him king. They then seized the reed, and struck his head so violently that his eyes were filled with blood; they knelt before him, derided him, spat in his face, and buffeted him, saying at the same time, 'Hail, King of the Jews!' Then they threw down his stool, pulled him up again from the ground on which he had fallen, and reseated him with the greatest possible brutality. It is quite impossible to describe the cruel outrages which were thought of and perpetrated by these monsters under human form. The sufferings of Jesus from thirst, caused by the fever which his wounds and sufferings had brought on, were intense.11 He trembled all over, his flesh was torn piecemeal, his tongue contracted, and the only refreshment he received was the blood which trickled from his head on to his parched lips. This shameful scene was protracted a full half-hour, and the Roman soldiers continued during the whole time to applaud and encourage the perpetration of still greater outrages. CHAPTER XXVII. Ecce Homo. The cruel executioners then reconducted our Lord to Pilate's palace, with the scarlet cloak still thrown over his shoulders, the crown of thorns on his head, and the reed in his fettered hands. He was perfectly unrecognisable, his eyes, mouth, and beard being covered with blood, his body but one wound, and his back bowed down as that of an aged man, while every limb trembled as he walked. When Pilate saw him standing at the entrance of his tribunal, even he (hart-hearted as he usually was) started, and shuddered with horror and compassion, whilst the barbarous priests and the populace, far from being moved to pity, continued their insults and mockery. When Jesus had ascended the stairs, Pilate came forward, the trumpet was sounded to announce that the governor was about to speak, and he addressed the Chief Priests and the bystanders in the following words: 'Behold, I bring him forth to you, that you may know that I find no cause in him.' The archers then led Jesus up to Pilate, that the people might again feast their cruel eyes on him, in the state of degradation to which he was reduced. Terrible and heartrending, indeed, was the spectacle he presented, and an exclamation of horror burst from the multitude, followed by a dead silence, when he with difficulty raised his wounded head, crowned as it was with thorns, and cast his exhausted glance on the excited throng. Pilate exclaimed, as he pointed him out to the people; 'Ecce homo! Behold the man!' The hatred of the High Priests and their followers was, if possible, increased at the sight of Jesus, and they cried out, 'Put him to death; crucify him.' 'Are you not content?' said Pilate. 'The punishment he has received is, beyond question, sufficient to deprive him of all desire of making himself king.' But they cried out the more and the multitude joined in the cry, 'Crucify him, crucify him!' Pilate then sounded the trumpet to demand silence, and said: 'Take you him and crucify him, for I find no cause in him.' 'We have a law, and according to that law he ought to die,' replied the priests, 'because he made himself the Son of God.' These words, 'he made himself the Son of God,' revived the fears of Pilate; he took Jesus into another room, and asked him; 'Whence art thou?' But Jesus made no answer. 'Speakest thou not to me?' said Pilate; 'knowest thou not that I have power to crucify thee, and power to release thee?' 'Thou shouldst not have any power against me,' replied Jesus, 'unless it were given thee from above; therefore he that hath delivered me to thee hath the greater sin.' The undecided, weak conduct of Pilate filled Claudia Procles with anxiety; she again sent him the pledge, to remind him of his promise, but he only returned a vague, superstitious answer, importing that he should leave the decision of the case to the gods. The enemies of Jesus, the High Priests and the Pharisees, having heard of the efforts which were being made by Claudia to save him, caused a report to be spread among the people, that the partisans of our Lord had seduced her, that he would be released, and then join the Romans and bring about the destruction of Jerusalem, and the extermination of the Jews. Pilate was in such a state of indecision and uncertainty as to be perfectly beside himself; he did not know what step to take next, and again addressed himself to the enemies of Jesus, declaring that 'he found no crime in him,' but they demanded his death still more clamorously. He then remembered the contradictory accusations which had been brought against Jesus, the mysterious dreams of his wife, and the unaccountable impression which the words of Jesus had made on himself, and therefore determined to question him again in order thus to obtain some information which might enlighten him as to the course he ought to pursue; he therefore returned to the Praetorium, went alone into a room, and sent for our Saviour. He glanced at the mangled and bleeding Form before him, and exclaimed inwardly: 'Is it possible that he can be God?' Then he turned to Jesus, and adjured him to tell him if he was God, if he was that king who had been promised to the Jews, where his kingdom was, and to what class of gods he belonged. I can only give the sense of the words of Jesus, but they were solemn and severe. He told him 'that his kingdom was not of this world,' and likewise spoke strongly of the many hidden crimes with which the conscience of Pilate was defiled; warned him of the dreadful fate which would be his if he did not repent; and finally declared that he himself, the Son of Man, would come at the last day, to pronounce a just judgment upon him. Pilate was half frightened and half angry at the words of Jesus; he returned to the balcony, and again declared that he would release Jesus; but they cried out: 'If thou release this man, thou art not Caesar's friend. For whosoever maketh himself a king speaketh against Caesar.' Others said that they would accuse him to the Emperor of having disturbed their festival; that he must make up his mind at once, because they were obliged to be in the Temple by ten o'clock at night. The cry, 'Crucify him! Crucify him!' resounded on all sides; it re-echoed even from the flat roofs of the houses near the forum, where many persons were assembled. Pilate saw that all his efforts were vain, that he could make no impression on the infuriated mob; their yells and imprecations were deafening, and he began to fear an insurrection. Therefore he took water, and washed his hands before the people, saying, 'I am innocent of the blood of this just man; look you to it.' A frightful and unanimous cry then came from the dense multitude, who were assembled from all parts of Palestine, 'His blood be upon us, and upon our children.' CHAPTER XXVIII. Reflections on the Visions. Whenever, during my meditations on the Passion of our Lord, I imagine I hear that frightful cry of the Jews, 'His blood be upon us, and upon our children,' visions of a wonderful and terrible description display before my eyes at the same moment the effect of that solemn curse. I fancy I see a gloomy sky covered with clouds, of the colour of blood, from which issue fiery swords and darts, lowering over the vociferating multitude; and this curse, which they have entailed upon themselves, appears to me to penetrate even to the very marrow of their bones,--even to the unborn infants. They appear to me encompassed on all sides by darkness; the words they utter take, in my eyes, the form of black flames, which recoil upon them, penetrating the bodies of some, and only playing around others. The last-mentioned were those who were converted after the death of Jesus, and who were in considerable numbers, for neither Jesus nor Mary ever ceased praying, in the midst of their sufferings, for the salvation of these miserable beings. When, during visions of this kind, I turn my thoughts to the holy souls of Jesus and Mary, and to those of the enemies of Christ, all that takes place within them is shown me under various forms. I see numerous devils among the crowd, exciting and encouraging the Jews, whispering in their ears, entering their mouths, inciting them still more against Jesus, but nevertheless trembling at the sight of his ineffable love and heavenly patience. Innumerable angels surrounded Jesus, Mary, and the small number of saints who were there. The exterior of these angels denotes the office they fill; some represent consolation, others prayer, or some of the works of mercy. I likewise often see consolatory, and at other times menacing voices, under the appearance of bright or coloured gleams of light, issuing from the mouths of these different apparitions; and I see the feelings of their souls, their interior sufferings, and in a word, their every thought, under the appearance of dark or bright rays. I then understand everything perfectly, but it is impossible for me to give an explanation to others; besides which, I am so ill, and so totally overcome by the grief which I feel for my own sins and for those of the world, I am so overpowered by the sight of the sufferings of our Lord, that I can hardly imagine how it is possible for me to relate events with the slightest coherency. Many of these things, but more especially the apparitions of devils and of angels, which are related by other persons who have had visions of the Passion of Jesus Christ, are fragments of symbolical interior perceptions of this species, which vary according to the state of the soul of the spectator. Hence the numerous contradictions, because many things are naturally forgotten or omitted. Sister Emmerich sometimes spoke on these subjects, either during the time of her visions on the Passion, or before they commenced; but she more often refused to speak at all concerning them, for fear of causing confusion in the visions. It is easy to see how difficult it must have been for her, in the midst of such a variety of apparitions, to preserve any degree of connection in her narrations. Who can therefore be surprised at finding some omissions and confusion in her descriptions? CHAPTER XXIX. Jesus condemned to be crucified. Pilate, who did not desire to know the truth, but was solely anxious to get out of the difficulty without harm to himself, became more undecided than ever; his conscience whispered--'Jesus is innocent;' his wife said, 'he is holy;' his superstitious feelings made him fear that Jesus was the enemy of his gods; and his cowardice filled him with dread lest Jesus, if he was a god, should wreak his vengeance upon his judge. He was both irritated and alarmed at the last words of Jesus, and he made another attempt for his release; but the Jews instantly threatened to lay an accusation against him before the Emperor. This menace terrified him, and he determined to accede to their wishes, although firmly convinced in his own mind of the innocence of Jesus, and perfectly conscious that by pronouncing sentence of death upon him he should violate every law of justice, besides breaking the promise he had made to his wife in the morning. Thus did he sacrifice Jesus to the enmity of the Jews, and endeavour to stifle remorse by washing his hands before the people, saying, 'I am innocent of the blood of this just man; look you to it.' Vainly dost thou pronounce these words, O Pilate! for his blood is on thy head likewise; thou canst not wash his blood from thy soul, as thou dost from thy hands. Those fearful words, 'His blood be upon us and upon our children,' had scarcely ceased to resound, when Pilate commenced his preparations for passing sentence. He called for the dress which he wore on state occasions, put a species of diadem, set in precious stones, on his head, changed his mantle, and caused a staff to be carried before him. He was surrounded with soldiers, preceded by officers belonging to the tribunal, and followed by Scribes, who carried rolls of parchments and books used for inscribing names and dates. One man walked in front, who carried the trumpet. The procession marched in this order from Pilate's palace to the forum, where an elevated seat, used on these particular occasions, was placed opposite to the pillar where Jesus was scourged. This tribunal was called Gabbatha; it was a kind of round terrace, ascended by means of staircases; on the top was a seat for Pilate, and behind this seat a bench for those in minor offices, while a number of soldiers were stationed round the terrace and upon the staircases. Many of the Pharisees had left the palace and were gone to the Temple, so that Annas, Caiphas, and twenty-eight priests alone followed the Roman governor on to the forum, and the two thieves were taken there at the time that Pilate presented our Saviour to the people, saying: 'Ecce homo!' Our Lord was still clothed in his purple garment, his crown of thorns upon his head, and his hands manacled, when the archers brought him up to the tribunal, and placed him between the two malefactors. As soon as Pilate was seated, he again addressed the enemies of Jesus, in these words, 'Behold your King!' But the cries of 'Crucify him! Crucify him!' resounded on all sides. 'Shall I crucify your King?' said Pilate. 'We have no King but Caesar!' responded the High Priests. Pilate found it was utterly hopeless to say anything more, and therefore commenced his preparations for passing sentence. The two thieves had received their sentence of crucifixion some time before; but the High Priests had obtained a respite for them, in order that our Lord might suffer the additional ignominy of being executed with two criminals of the most infamous description. The crosses of the two thieves were by their sides; that intended fro our Lord was not brought, because he was not as yet sentenced to death. The Blessed Virgin, who had retired to some distance after the scourging of Jesus, again approached to hear the sentence of death pronounced upon her Son and her God. Jesus stood in the midst of the archers, at the foot of the staircase leading up to the tribunal. The trumpet was sounded to demand silence, and then the cowardly, the base judge, in a tremulous undecided voice, pronounced the sentence of death on the Just Man. The sight of the cowardice and duplicity of this despicable being, who was nevertheless puffed up with pride at his important position, almost overcame me, and the ferocious joy of the executioners--the triumphant countenances of the High Priests, added to the deplorable condition to which our loving Saviour was reduced, and the agonising grief of his beloved Mother--still further increased my pain. I looked up again, and saw the cruel Jews almost devouring their victim with their eyes, the soldiers standing coldly by, and multitudes of horrible demons passing to and fro and mixing in the crowd. I felt that I ought to have been in the place of Jesus, my beloved Spouse, for the sentence would not then have been unjust; but I was so overcome with anguish, and my sufferings were so intense, that I cannot exactly remember all that I did see. However, I will relate all as nearly as I can. After a long preamble, which was composed principally of the most pompous and exaggerated eulogy of the Emperor Tiberias, Pilate spoke of the accusations which had been brought against Jesus by the High Priests. He said that they had condemned him to death for having disturbed the public peace, and broken their laws by calling himself the Son of God and King of the Jews; and that the people had unanimously demanded that their decree should be carried out. Notwithstanding his oft repeated conviction of the innocence of Jesus, this mean and worthless judge was not ashamed of saying that he likewise considered their decision a just one, and that he should therefore pronounce sentence--which he did in these words: 'I condemn Jesus of Nazareth, the King of the Jews, to be crucified;' and he ordered the executioners to bring the cross. I think I remember likewise that he took a long stick in his hands, broke it, and threw the fragments at the feet of Jesus. On hearing these words of Pilate the Mother of Jesus became for a few moments totally unconscious, for she was now certain that her beloved Son must die the most ignominious and the most painful of all deaths. John and the holy women carried her away, to prevent the heartless beings who surrounded them from adding crime to crime by jeering at her grief; but no sooner did she revive a little than she begged to be taken again to each spot which had been sanctified by the sufferings of her Son, in order to bedew them with her tears; and thus did the Mother of our Lord, in the name of the Church, take possession of those holy places. Pilate then wrote down the sentence, and those who stood behind him copied it out three times. The words which he wrote were quite different from those he had pronounced; I could see plainly that his mind was dreadfully agitated--an angel of wrath appeared to guide his hand. The substance of the written sentence was this: 'I have been compelled, for fear of an insurrection, to yield to the wishes of the High Priests, the Sanhedrin, and the people, who tumultuously demanded the death of Jesus of Nazareth, whom they accused of having disturbed the public peace, and also of having blasphemed and broken their laws. I have given him up to them to be crucified, although their accusations appeared to be groundless. I have done so for fear of their alleging to the Emperor that I encourage insurrections, and cause dissatisfaction among the Jews by denying them the rights of justice.' He then wrote the inscription for the cross, while his clerks copied out the sentence several times, that these copies might be sent to distant parts of the country. The High Priests were extremely dissatisfied at the words of the sentence, which they said were not true; and they clamorously surrounded the tribunal to endeavour to persuade him to alter the inscription; and not to put King of the Jews, but that he said, I am the King of the Jews. Pilate was vexed, and answered impatiently, 'What I have written I have written!' They were likewise anxious that the cross of our Lord should not be higher than those of the two thieves, but it was necessary for it to be so, because there would otherwise not have been sufficient place for Pilate's inscription; they therefore endeavoured to persuade him not to have this obnoxious inscription put up at all. But Pilate was determined, and their words made no impression upon him; the cross was therefore obliged to be lengthened by a fresh bit of wood. Consequently the form of the cross was peculiar--the two arms stood out like the branches of a tree growing from the stem, and the shape was very like that of the letter Y, with the lower part lengthened so as to rise between the arms, which had been put on separately, and were thinner than the body of the cross. A piece of wood was likewise nailed at the bottom of the cross for the feet to rest upon. During the time that Pilate was pronouncing the iniquitous sentence, I saw his wife, Claudia Procles, send him back the pledge which he had given her, and in the evening she left his palace and joined the friends of our Lord, who concealed her in a subterraneous vault in the house of Lazarus at Jerusalem. Later in the same day, I likewise saw a friend of our Lord engrave the words, Judex injustus, and the name of Claudia Procles, on a greenlooking stone, which was behind the terrace called Gabbatha--this stone is still to be found in the foundations of a church or house at Jerusalem, which stands on the spot formerly called Gabbatha. Claudia Procles became a Christian, followed St. Paul, and became his particular friend. No sooner had Pilate pronounced sentence than Jesus was given up into the hands of the archers, and the clothes which he had taken off in the court of Caiphas were brought for him to put on again. I think some charitable persons had washed them, for they looked clean. The ruffians who surrounded Jesus untied his hands for his dress to be changed, and roughly dragged off the scarlet mantle with which they had clothed him in mockery, thereby reopening all his wounds; he put on his own linen under-garment with trembling hands, and they threw his scapular over his shoulders. As the crown of thorns was too large and prevented the seamless robe, which his Mother had made for him, from going over his head, they pulled it off violently, heedless of the pain thus inflicted upon him. His white woollen dress was next thrown over his shoulders, and then his wide belt and cloak. After this, they again tied round his waist a ring covered with sharp iron points, and to it they fastened the cords by which he was led, doing all with their usual brutal cruelty. The two thieves were standing, one on the right and the other on the left of Jesus, with their hands tied and a chain round their necks; they were covered with black and lived marks, the effects of the scourging of the previous day. The demeanour of the one who was afterwards converted was quiet and peaceable, while that of the other, on the contrary, was rough and insolent, and he joined the archers in abusing and insulting Jesus, who looked upon his two companions with love and compassion, and offered up his sufferings for their salvation. The archers gathered together all the implements necessary for the crucifixions, and prepared everything for the terrible and painful journey to Calvary. Annas and Caiphas at last left off disputing with Pilate, and angrily retired, taking with them the sheets of parchment on which the sentence was written; they went away in haste, fearing that they should get to the Temple too late for the Paschal sacrifice. Thus did the High Priests, unknowingly to themselves, leave the true Paschal Lamb. They went to a temple made of stone, to immolate and to sacrifice that lamb which was but a symbol, and they left the true Paschal Lamb, who was being led to the Altar of the Cross by the cruel executioners; they were most careful not to contract exterior defilement, while their souls were completely defiled by anger, hatred, and envy. They had said, 'His blood be upon us and upon our children!' And by these words they had performed the ceremony, and had placed the hand of the sacrificer upon the head of the Victim. Thus were the two paths formed--the one leading to the altar belonging to the Jewish law, the other leading to the Altar of Grace: Pilate, that proud and irresolute pagan, that slave of the world, who trembled in the presence of the true God, and yet adored his false gods, took a middle path, and returned to his palace. The iniquitous sentence was given at about ten in the morning. CHAPTER XXX. The Carrying of the Cross. When Pilate left the tribunal a portion of the soldiers followed him, and were drawn up in files before the palace; a few accompanying the criminals. Eight-and-twenty armed Pharisees came to the forum on horseback, in order to accompany Jesus to the place of execution, and among these were the six enemies of Jesus, who had assisted in arresting him in the Garden of Olives. The archers led Jesus into the middle of the court, the slaves threw down the cross at his feet, and the two arms were forthwith tied on to the centre piece. Jesus knelt down by its side, encircled it with his sacred arms, and kissed it three times, addressing, at the same time, a most touching prayer of thanksgiving to his Heavenly Father for that work of redemption which he had begun. It was the custom among pagans for the priest to embrace a new altar, and Jesus in like manner embraced his cross, that august altar on which the bloody and expiatory sacrifice was about to be offered. The archers soon made him rise, and then kneel down again, and almost without any assistance, place the heavy cross on his right shoulder, supporting its great weight with his right hand. I saw angels come to his assistance, otherwise he would have been unable even to raise it from the ground. Whilst he was on his knees, and still praying, the executioners put the arms of the crosses, which were a little curbed and not as yet fastened to the centre pieces, on the backs of the two thieves, and tied their hands tightly to them. The middle parts of the crosses were carried by slaves, as the transverse pieces were not to be fastened to them until just before the time of execution. The trumpet sounded to announce the departure of Pilate's horsemen, and one of the Pharisees belonging to the escort came up to Jesus, who was still kneeling, and said, 'Rise, we have had a sufficiency of thy fine speeches; rise and set off.' They pulled him roughly up, for he was totally unable to rise without assistance, and he then felt upon his shoulders the weight of that cross which we must carry after him, according to his true and holy command to follow him. Thus began that triumphant march of the King of Kings, a march so ignominious on earth, and so glorious in heaven. By means of ropes, which the executioners had fastened to the foot of the cross, two archers supported it to prevent its getting entangled in anything, and four other soldiers took hold of the ropes, which they had fastened to Jesus underneath his clothes. The sight of our dear Lord trembling beneath his burden, reminded me forcibly of Isaac, when he carried the wood destined for his own sacrifice up the mountains. The trumpet of Pilate was sounded as the signal for departure, for he himself intended to go to Calvary at the head of a detachment of soldiers, to prevent the possibility of an insurrection. He was on horseback, in armour, surrounded by officers and a body of cavalry, and followed by about three hundred of the infantry, who came from the frontiers of Italy and Switzerland. The procession was headed by a trumpeter, who sounded his trumpet at every corner and proclaimed the sentence. A number of women and children walked behind the procession with ropes, nails, wedges, and baskets filled with different articles, in their hands; others, who were stronger, carried poles, ladders, and the centre pieces of the crosses of the two thieves, and some of the Pharisees followed on horseback. A boy who had charge of the inscription which Pilate had written for the cross, likewise carried the crown of thorns (which had been taken off the head of Jesus) at the end of a long stick, but he did not appear to be wicked and hard-hearted like the rest. Next I beheld our Blessed Saviour and Redeemer--his bare feet swollen and bleeding--his back bent as though he were about to sink under the heavy weight of the cross, and his whole body covered with wounds and blood. He appeared to be half fainting from exhaustion (having had neither refreshment or sleep since the supper of the previous night), weak from loss of blood, and parched with thirst produced by fever and pain. He supported the cross on his right shoulder with his right hand, the left hung almost powerless at his side, but he endeavoured now and then to hold up his long garment to prevent his bleeding feet from getting entangled in it. The four archers who held the cords which were fastened round his waist, walked at some distance from him, the two in front pulled him on, and the two behind dragged him back, so that he could not get on at all without the greatest difficulty. His hands were cut by the cords with which they had been bound; his face bloody and disfigured; his hair and beard saturated with blood; the weight of the cross and of his chains combined to press and make the woollen dress cleave to his wounds, and reopen them: derisive and heartless words alone were addressed to him, but he continued to pray for his persecutors, and his countenance bore an expression of combined love and resignation. Many soldiers under arms walked by the side of the procession, and after Jesus came the two thieves, who were likewise led, the arms of their crosses, separate from the middle, being placed upon their backs, and their hands tied tightly to the two ends. They were clothed in large aprons, with a sort of sleeveless scapular which covered the upper part of their bodies, and they had straw caps upon their heads. The good thief was calm, but the other was, on the contrary furious, and never ceased cursing and swearing. The rear of the procession was brought up by the remainder of the Pharisees on horseback, who rode to and fro to keep order. Pilate and his courtiers were at a certain distance behind; he was in the midst of his officers clad in armour, preceded by a squadron of cavalry, and followed by three hundred foot soldiers; he crossed the forum, and then entered one of the principal streets, for he was marching through the town in order to prevent any insurrection among the people. Jesus was conducted by a narrow back street, that the procession might not inconvenience the persons who were going to the Temple, and likewise in order that Pilate and his band might have the whole principal street entirely to themselves. The crowd had dispersed and started in different directions almost immediately after the reading of the sentence, and the greatest part of the Jews either returned to their own houses, or to the Temple, to hasten their preparations for sacrificing the Paschal lamb; but a certain number were still hurrying on in disorder to see the melancholy procession pass; the Roman soldiers prevented all persons from joining the procession, therefore the most curious were obliged to go round by back streets, or to quicken their steps so as to reach Calvary before Jesus. The street through which they led Jesus was both narrow and dirty; he suffered much in passing through it, because the archers were close and harassed him. Persons stood on the roofs of the houses, and at the windows, and insulted him with opprobrious language; the slaves who were working in the streets threw filth and mud at him; even the children, incited by his enemies, had filled their pinafores with sharp stones, which they throw down before their doors as he passed, that he might be obliged to walk over them. CHAPTER XXXI. The First Fall of Jesus. The street of which we have just spoken, after turning a little to the left, became rather steep, as also wider, a subterranean aqueduct proceeding from Mount Sion passed under it, and in its vicinity was a hollow which was often filled with water and mud after rain, and a large stone was placed in its centre to enable persons to pass over more easily. When Jesus reached this spot, his strength was perfectly exhausted; he was quite unable to move; and as the archers dragged and pushed him without showing the slightest compassion, he fell quite down against this stone, and the cross fell by his side. The cruel executioners were obliged to stop, they abused and struck him unmercifully, but the whole procession came to a standstill, which caused a degree of confusion. Vainly did he hold out his hand for someone to assist him to rise: 'Ah!' he exclaimed, 'all will soon be over;' and he prayed for his enemies. Lift him up,' said the Pharisees, 'otherwise he will die in our hands.' There were many women and children following the procession; the former wept, and the latter were frightened. Jesus, however, received support from above, and raised his head; but these cruel men, far from endeavouring to alleviate his sufferings, put the crown of thorns again on his head before they pulled him out of the mud, and no sooner was he once more on his feet than they replaced the cross on his back. The crown of thorns which encircled his head increased his pain inexpressibly, and obliged him to bend on one side to give room for the cross, which lay heavily on his shoulders. CHAPTER XXXII. The Second Fall of Jesus. The afflicted Mother of Jesus had left the forum, accompanied by John and some other women, immediately after the unjust sentence was pronounced. She had employed herself in walking to many of the spots sanctified by our Lord and watering them with her tears; but when the sound of the trumpet, the rush of people, and the clang of the horsemen announced that the procession was about to start for Calvary, she could not resist her longing desire to behold her beloved Son once more, and she begged John to take her to some place through which he must pass. John conducted her to a palace, which had an entrance in that street which Jesus traversed after his first fall; it was, I believe, the residence of the high priest Caiphas, whose tribunal was in the division called Sion. John asked and obtained leave from a kind-hearted servant to stand at the entrance mentioned above, with Mary and her companions. The Mother of God was pale, her eyes were red with weeping, and she was closely wrapped in a cloak of a bluish-grey colour. The clamour and insulting speeches of the enraged multitude might be plainly heard; and a herald at that moment proclaimed in a loud voice, that three criminals were about to be crucified. The servant opened the door; the dreadful sounds became more distinct every moment; and Mary threw herself on her knees. After praying fervently, she turned to John and said, 'Shall I remain? Ought I to go away? Shall I have strength to support such a sight?' John made answer, 'If you do not remain to see him pass, you will grieve afterwards.' They remained therefore near the door, with their eyes fixed on the procession, which was still distant, but advancing by slow degrees. When those who were carrying the instruments for the execution approached, and the Mother of Jesus saw their insolent and triumphant looks, she could not control her feelings, but joined her hands as if to implore the help of heaven; upon which one among them said to his companions: 'What woman is that who is uttering such lamentations?' Another answered: 'She is the Mother of the Galilean.' When the cruel men heard this, far from being moved to compassion, they began to make game of the grief of this most afflicted Mother: they pointed at her, and one of them took the nails which were to be used for fastening Jesus to the cross, and presented them to her in an insulting manner; but she turned away, fixed her eyes upon Jesus, who was drawing near, and leant against the pillar for support, lest she should again faint from grief, for her cheeks were as pale as death, and her lips almost blue. The Pharisees on horseback passed by first, followed by the boy who carried the inscription. Then came her beloved Son. He was almost sinking under the heavy weight of his cross, and his head, still crowned with thorns, was drooping in agony on his shoulder. He cast a look of compassion and sorrow upon his Mother, staggered, and fell for the second time upon his hands and knees. Mary was perfectly agonised at this sight; she forgot all else; she saw neither soldiers nor executioners; she saw nothing but her dearly-loved Son; and, springing from the doorway into the midst of the group who were insulting and abusing him, she threw herself on her knees by his side and embraced him. The only words I heard were, 'Beloved Son!' and 'Mother!' but I do not know whether these words were really uttered, or whether they were only in my own mind. A momentary confusion ensued. John and the holy women endeavoured to raise Mary from the ground, and the archers reproached her, one of them saying, 'What hast thou to do her, woman? He would not have been in our hands if he had been better brought up.' A few of the soldiers looked touched; and, although they obliged the Blessed Virgin to retire to the doorway, not one laid hands upon her. John and the women surrounded her as she fell half fainting against a stone, which was near the doorway, and upon which the impression of her hands remained. This stone was very hard, and was afterwards removed to the first Catholic church built in Jerusalem, near the Pool of Bethsaida, during the time that St. James the Less was Bishop of that city. The two disciples who were with the Mother of Jesus carried her into the house, and the door was shut. In the mean time the archers had raised Jesus, and obliged him to carry the cross in a different manner. Its arm being unfastened from the centre, and entangled in the ropes with which he was bound, he supported them on his arm, and by this means the weight of the body of the cross was a little taken off, as it dragged more on the ground. I saw numbers of persons standing about in groups, the greatest part amusing themselves by insulting our Lord in different ways, but a few veiled females were weeping. CHAPTER XXXIII. Simon of Cyrene. Third Fall of Jesus. The procession had reached an arch formed in an old wall belonging to the town, opposite to a square, in which three streets terminated, when Jesus stumbled against a large stone which was placed in the middle of the archway, the cross slipped from his shoulder, he fell upon the stone, and was totally unable to rise. Many respectable-looking persons who were on their way to the Temple stopped, and exclaimed compassionately: 'Look at that poor man, he is certainly dying!' but his enemies showed no compassion. This fall caused a fresh delay, as our Lord could not stand up again, and the Pharisees said to the soldiers: 'We shall never get him to the place of execution alive, if you do not find someone to carry his cross.' At this moment Simon of Cyrene, a pagan, happened to pass by, accompanied by his three children. He was a gardener, just returning home after working in a garden near the eastern wall of the city, and carrying a bundle of lopped branches. The soldiers perceiving by his dress that he was a pagan, seized him, and ordered him to assist Jesus in carrying his cross. He refused at first, but was soon compelled to obey, although his children, being frightened, cried and made a great noise, upon which some women quieted and took charge of them. Simon was much annoyed, and expressed the greatest vexation at being obliged to walk with a man in so deplorable a condition of dirt and misery; but Jesus wept, and cast such a mild and heavenly look upon him that he was touched, and instead of continuing to show reluctance, helped him to rise, while the executioners fastened one arm of the cross on his shoulders, and he walked behind our Lord, thus relieving him in a great measure from its weight; and when all was arranged, the procession moved forward. Simon was a stout-looking man, apparently about forty years of age. His children were dressed in tunics made of a variegated material; the two eldest, named Rufus and Alexander, afterwards joined the disciples; the third was much younger, but a few years later went to live with St. Stephen. Simon had not carried the cross after Jesus any length of time before he felt his heart deeply touched by grace. CHAPTER XXXIV. The Veil of Veronica. While the procession was passing through a long street, an incident took place which made a strong impression upon Simon. Numbers of respectable persons were hurrying towards the Temple, of whom many got out of the way when they saw Jesus, from a Pharisaical fear of defilement, while others, on the contrary, stopped and expressed pity for his sufferings. But when the procession had advanced about two hundred steps from the spot where Simon began to assist our Lord in carrying his cross, the door of a beautiful house on the left opened, and a woman of majestic appearance, holding a young girl by the hand, came out, and walked up to the very head of the procession. Seraphia was the name of the brave woman who thus dared to confront the enraged multitude; she was the wife of Sirach, one of the councillors belonging to the Temple, and was afterwards known by the name of Veronica, which name was given from the words vera icon (true portrait), to commemorate her brave conduct on this day. Seraphia had prepared some excellent aromatic wine, which she piously intended to present to our Lord to refresh him on his dolorous way to Calvary. She had been standing in the street for some time, and at last went back into the house to wait. She was, when I first saw her, enveloped in a long veil, and holding a little girl of nine years of age, whom she had adopted, by the hand; a large veil was likewise hanging on her arm, and the little girl endeavoured to hide the jar of wine when the procession approached. Those who were marching at the head of the procession tried to push her back; but she made her way through the mob, the soldiers, and the archers, reached Jesus, fell on her knees before him, and presented the veil, saying at the same time, 'Permit me to wipe the face of my Lord.' Jesus took the veil in his left hand, wiped his bleeding face, and returned it with thanks. Seraphia kissed it, and put it under her cloak. The girl then timidly offered the wine, but the brutal soldiers would not allow Jesus to drink it. The suddenness of this courageous act of Seraphia had surprised the guards, and caused a momentary although unintentional halt, of which she had taken advantage to present the veil to her Divine Master. Both the Pharisees and the guards were greatly exasperated, not only by the sudden halt, but much more by the public testimony of veneration which was thus paid to Jesus, and they revenged themselves by striking and abusing him, while Seraphia returned in haste to her house. No sooner did she reach her room than she placed the woollen veil on a table, and fell almost senseless on her knees. A friend who entered the room a short time after, found her thus kneeling, with the child weeping by her side, and saw, to his astonishment, the bloody countenance of our Lord imprinted upon the veil, a perfect likeness, although heartrending and painful to look upon. He roused Seraphia, and pointed to the veil. She again knelt down before it, and exclaimed through her tears, 'Now I shall indeed leave all with a happy heart, for my Lord has given me a remembrance of himself.' The texture of this veil was a species of very fine wool; it was three times the length of its width, and was generally worn on the shoulders. It was customary to present these veil to persons who were in affliction, or overfatigued, or ill, that they might wipe their faces with them, and it was done in order to express sympathy or compassion. Veronica kept this veil until her death, and hung it at the head of her bed; it was then given to the Blessed Virgin, who left it to the Apostles and they afterwards passed it on to the Church. Seraphis and John the Baptist were cousins, her father and Zacharias being brothers. When Joachim and Anna brought the Blessed Virgin, who was then only four years old, up to Jerusalem, to place her among the virgins in the Temple, they lodged in the house of Zacharias, which was situated near the fish-market. Seraphia was at least five years older than the Blessed Virgin, was present at her marriage with St. Joseph, and was likewise related to the aged Simeon, who prophesied when the Child Jesus was put into his arms. She was brought up with his sons, both of whom, as well as Seraphia, he imbued with his ardent desire of seeing our Lord. When Jesus was twelve years old, and remained teaching in the Temple, Seraphia, who was not then married, sent food for him every day to a little inn, a quarter of a mile from Jerusalem, where he dwelt when he was not in the Temple. Mary wet there for two days, when on her way from Bethlehem to Jerusalem to offer her Child in the Temple. The two old men who kept this inn were Essenians, and well acquainted with the Holy Family; it contained a kind of foundation for the poor, and Jesus and his disciples often went there for a night's lodging. Seraphia married rather late in life; her husband, Sirach, was descended from the chaste Susannah, and was a member of the Sanhedrin. He was at first greatly opposed to our Lord, and his wife suffered much on account of her attachment to Jesus, and to the holy women, but Joseph of Arimathea and Nicodemus brought him to a better state of feeling, and he allowed Seraphia to follow our Lord. When Jesus was unjustly accused in the court of Caiphas, the husband of Seraphia joined with Joseph and Nicodemus in attempts to obtain the liberation of our Lord, and all three resigned their seats in the Council. Seraphia was about fifty at the time of the triumphant procession of our Lord when he entered into Jerusalem on Palm Sunday, and I then saw her take off her veil and spread it on the ground for him to walk upon. It was this same veil, which she presented to Jesus, at this his second procession, a procession which outwardly appeared to be far less glorious, but was in fact much more so. This veil obtained for her the name of Veronica, and it is still shown for the veneration of the faithful. CHAPTER XXXV. The Fourth and Fifth Falls of Jesus. The Daughters of Jerusalem. The procession was still at some distance from the south-west gate, which was large, and attached to the fortifications, and the street was rough and steep; it had first to pass under a vaulted arch, then over a bridge, and finally under a second arch. The wall on the left side of the gate runs first in southerly direction, then deviates a little to the west, and finally runs to the south behind Mount Sion. When the procession was near this gate, the brutal archers shoved Jesus into a stagnant pool, which was close to it; Simon of Cyrene, in his endeavours to avoid the pool, gave the cross a twist, which caused Jesus to fall down for the fourth time in the midst of the dirty mud, and Simon had the greatest difficulty in lifting up the cross again. Jesus then exclaimed in a tone which, although clear, was moving and sad: 'Jerusalem, Jerusalem, how often would I have gathered together thy children as the hen doth gather her chickens under her wings, and thou wouldst not!' When the Pharisees heard these words, they became still more angry, and recommencing their insults and blows endeavoured to force him to get up out of the mud. Their cruelty to Jesus so exasperated Simon of Cyrene that he at last exclaimed, 'If you continue this brutal conduct, I will throw down the cross and carry it no farther. I will do so if you kill me for it.' A narrow and stony path was visible as soon as the gate was passed, and this path ran in a northerly direction, and led to Calvary. The high road from which it deviates divided shortly after into three branches, one to the south-west, which led to Bethlehem, through the vale of Gihon; a second to the south towards Emmaus and Joppa; a third, likewise to the south-west, wound round Calvary, and terminated at the gate which led to Bethsur. A person standing at the gate through which Jesus was led might easily see the gate of Bethlehem. The officers had fastened an inscription upon a post which stood at the commencement of the road to Calvary, to inform those who passed by that Jesus and the two thieves were condemned to death. A group of women had gathered together near this spot, and were weeping and lamenting; many carried young children in their arms; the greatest part were young maidens and women from Jerusalem, who had preceded the procession, but a few came from Bethlehem, from Hebron, and from other neighbouring places, in order to celebrate the Pasch. Jesus was on the point of again falling, but Simon, who was behind, perceiving that he could not stand, hastened to support him; he leant upon Simon, and was thus saved from falling to the ground. When the women and children of whom we have spoken above, saw the deplorable condition to which our Lord was reduced, they uttered loud cries, wept, and, according to the Jewish custom, presented him cloths to wipe his face. Jesus turned towards them and said: 'Daughters of Jerusalem, weep not over me, but weep for yourselves and for your children. For behold the days shall come wherein they will say: Blessed are the barren, and the wombs that have not borne, and the papas that have not given suck. Then shall they begin to say to the mountains: Fall upon us, and to the hills: Cover us. For if in the green wood they do these things, what shall be done in the dry?' He then addressed a few words of consolation to hem, which I do not exactly remember. The procession made a momentary halt. The executioners, who set of first, had reached Calvary with the instruments for the execution, and were followed by a hundred of the Roman soldiers who had started with Pilate; he only accompanied the procession as far as the gateway, and returned to the town. CHAPTER XXXVI. Jesus on Mount Golgotha. Sixth and Seventh Falls of Jesus. The procession again moved on; the road was very steep and rough between the walls of the town and Calvary, and Jesus had the greatest difficulty in walking with his heavy burden on his shoulders; but his cruel enemies, far from feeling the slightest compassion, or giving the least assistance, continued to urge him on by the infliction of hard blows, and the utterance of dreadful curses. At last they reached a spot where the pathway turned suddenly to the south; here he stumbled and fell for the sixth time. The fall was a dreadful one, but the guards only struck him the harder to force him to get up, and no sooner did he reach Calvary that he sank down again for the seventh time. Simon of Cyrene was filled with indignation and pity; notwithstanding his fatigue, he wished to remain that he might assist Jesus, but the archers first reviled, and then drove him away, and he soon after joined the body of disciples. The executioners then ordered the workmen and the boys who had carried the instruments of the execution to depart, and the Pharisees soon arrived, for they were on horseback, and had taken the smooth and easy road which ran to the east of Calvary. There was a fine view of the whole town of Jerusalem from the top of Calvary. This top was circular, and about the size of an ordinary ridingschool, surrounded by a low wall, and with five separate entrances. This appeared to be the usual number in those parts, for there were five roads at the baths, at the place where they baptised, at the pool of Bethsaida, and there were likewise many towns with five gates. In this, as in many other peculiarities of the Holy Land, there was a deep prophetic signification; that number five, which so often occurred, was a type of those five sacred wound of our Blessed Saviour, which were to open to us the gates of Heaven. The horsemen stopped on the west side of the mount, where the declivity was not so steep; for the side up which the criminals were brought was both rough and steep. About a hundred soldiers were stationed on different parts of the mountain, and as space was required, the thieves were not brought to the top, but ordered to halt before they reached it, and to lie on the ground with their arms fastened to their crosses. Soldiers stood around and guarded them, while crowds of persons who did not fear defiling themselves, stood near the platform or on the neighbouring heights; these were mostly of the lower classes--strangers, slaves, and pagans, and a number of them were women. It wanted about a quarter to twelve when Jesus, loaded with his cross, sank down at the precise spot where he was to be crucified. The barbarous executioners dragged him up by the cords which they had fastened round his waist, and then untied the arms of the cross, and threw them on the ground. The sight of our Blessed Lord at this moment was, indeed, calculated to move the hardest heart to compassion; he stood or rather bent over the cross, being scarcely able to support himself; his heavenly countenance was pale and was as that of a person on the verge of death, although wounds and blood disfigured it to a frightful degree; but the hearts of these cruel men were, alas! harder than iron itself, and far from showing the slightest commiseration, they threw him brutally down, exclaiming in a jeering tone, 'Most powerful king, we are about to prepare thy throne.' Jesus immediately placed himself upon the cross, and they measured him and marked the places for his feet and hands; whilst the Pharisees continued to insult their unresisting Victim. When the measurement was finished, they led him to a cave cut in the rock, which had been used formerly as a cellar, opened the door, and pushed him in so roughly that had it not been for the support of angels, his legs must have been broken by so hard a fall on the rough stone floor. I most distinctly heard his groans of pain, but they closed the door quickly, and placed guards before it, and the archers continued their preparations for the crucifixion. The centre of the platform mentioned above was the most elevated part of Calvary,--it was a round eminence, about two feet high, and persons were obliged to ascend two of three steps to reach its top. The executioners dug the holes for the three crosses at the top of this eminence, and placed those intended for the thieves one on the right and the other on the left of our Lord's; both were lower and more roughly made than his. They then carried the cross of our Saviour to the spot where they intended to crucify him, and placed it in such a position that it would easily fall into the hole prepared for it. They fastened the two arms strongly on to the body of the cross, nailed the board at the bottom which was to support the feet, bored the holes for the nails, and cut different hollows in the wood in the parts which would receive the head and back of our Lord, in order that his body might rest against the cross, instead of being suspended from it. Their aim in this was the prolongation of his tortures, for if the whole weight of this body was allowed to fall upon the hands the holes might be quite torn open, and death ensue more speedily than they desired. The executioners then drove into the ground the pieces of wood which were intended to keep the cross upright, and made a few other similar preparations. CHAPTER XXXVII. The Departure of Mary and the holy Women of Calvary. Although the Blessed Virgin was carried away fainting after the sad meeting with her Son loaded with his cross, yet she soon recovered consciousness; for love, and the ardent desire of seeing him once more, imparted to her a supernatural feeling of strength. Accompanied by her companions she went to the house of Lazarus, which was at the bottom of the town, and where Martha, Magdalen, and many holy women were already assembled. All were sad and depressed, but Magdalen could not restrain her tears and lamentations. They started from this house, about seventeen in number, to make the way of the cross, that is to say, to follow every step Jesus had taken in this most painful journey. Mary counted each footstep, and being interiorly enlightened, pointed out to her companions those places which had been consecrated by peculiar sufferings. Then did the sharp sword predicted by aged Simeon impress for the first time in the heart of Mary that touching devotion which has since been so constantly practised in the Church. Mary imparted it to her companions, and they in their turn left it to future generations,--a most precious gift indeed, bestowed by our Lord on his beloved Mother, and which passed from her heart to the hearts of her children through the revered voice of tradition. When these holy women reached the house of Veronica they entered it, because Pilate and his officers were at that moment passing through the street, on their way home. They burst forth into unrestrained tears when they beheld the countenance of Jesus imprinted on the veil, and they returned thanks to God for the favour he had bestowed on his faithful servant. They took the jar of aromatic wine which the Jews had prevented Jesus from drinking, and set off together towards Golgotha. Their number was considerably increased, for many pious men and women whom the sufferings of our Lord had filled with pity had joined them, and they ascended the west side of Calvary, as the declivity there was not so great. The Mother of Jesus, accompanied by her niece, Mary (the daughter of Cleophas), John, and Salome went quite up to the round platform; but Martha, Mary of Heli, Veronica, Johanna Chusa, Susanna, and Mary, the mother of Mark, remained below with Magdalen, who could hardly support herself. Lower down on the mountain there was a third group of holy women, and there were a few scattered individuals between the three groups, who carried messages from one to the other. The Pharisees on horseback rode to and fro among the people, and the five entrances were guarded by Roman soldiers. Mary kept her eyes fixed on the fatal spot, and stood as if entranced,--it was indeed a sight calculated to appal and rend the heart of a mother. There lay the terrible cross, the hammers, the ropes, the nails, and alongside of these frightful instruments to torture stood the brutal executioners, half drunk, and almost without clothing, swearing and blaspheming, whilst making their preparations. The sufferings of the Blessed Virgin were greatly increased by her not being able to see her Son; she knew that he was still alive, and she felt the most ardent desire once more to behold him, while the thought of the torments he still had to endure made her heart ready to burst with grief. A little hail had been falling at times during the morning, but the sun came out again after ten o'clock, and a thick red fog began to obscure it towards twelve. CHAPTER XXXVIII. The Nailing of Jesus to the Cross. The preparations for the crucifixion being finished four archers went to the cave where they had confined our Lord and dragged him out with their usual brutality, while the mob looked on and made use of insulting language, and the Roman soldiers regarded all with indifference, and thought of nothing but maintaining order. When Jesus was again brought forth, the holy women gave a man some money, and begged him to pay the archer anything they might demand if they would allow Jesus to drink the wine which Veronica had prepared; but the cruel executioners, instead of giving it to Jesus, drank it themselves. They had brought two vases with them, one of which contained vinegar and gall, and the other a mixture which looked like wine mixed with myrrh and absinthe; they offered a glass of the latter to our Lord, which he tasted, but would not drink. There were eighteen archers on the platform; the six who had scourged Jesus, the four who had conducted him to Calvary, the two who held the ropes which supported the cross, and six others who came for the purpose of crucifying him. They were strangers in the pay of either the Jews or the Romans, and were short thick-set men, with most ferocious countenances, rather resembling wild beasts than human beings, and employing themselves alternately in drinking and in making preparations for the crucifixion. This scene was rendered the more frightful to me by the sight of demons, who were invisible to others, and I saw large bodies of evil spirits under the forms of toads, serpents, sharp-clawed dragons, and venomous insects, urging these wicked men to still greater cruelty, and perfectly darkening the air. They crept into the mouths and into the hearts of the assistants, sat upon their shoulders, filled their minds with wicked images, and incited them to revile and insult our Lord with still greater brutality. Weeping angels, however, stood around Jesus, and the sight of their tears consoled me not a little, and they were accompanied by little angels of glory, whose heads alone I saw. There were likewise angels of pity and angels of consolation among them; the latter frequently approached the Blessed Virgin and the rest of the pious persons who were assembled there, and whispered words of comfort which enabled them to bear up with firmness. The executioners soon pulled off our Lord's cloak, the belt to which the ropes were fastened, and his own belt, when they found it was impossible to drag the woollen garment which his Mother had woven for him over his head, on account of the crown of thorns; they tore off this most painful crown, thus reopening every wound, and seizing the garment, tore it mercilessly over his bleeding and wounded head. Our dear Lord and Saviour then stood before his cruel enemies, stripped of all save the short scapular which was on his shoulders, and the linen which girded his loins. His scapular was of wool; the wool had stuck to the wounds, and indescribable was the agony of pain he suffered when they pulled it roughly off. He shook like the aspen as he stood before them, for he was so weakened from suffering and loss of blood that he could not support himself for more than a few moments; he was covered with open wounds, and his shoulders and back were torn to the bone by the dreadful scourging he had endured. He was about to fall when the executioners, fearing that he might die, and thus deprive them of the barbarous pleasure of crucifying him, led him to a large stone and placed him roughly down upon it, but no sooner was he seated than they aggravated his sufferings by putting the crown of thorns again upon his head. They then offered him some vinegar and gall, from which, however, he turned away in silence. The executioners did not allow him to rest long, but bade him rise and place himself on the cross that they might nail him to it. Then seizing his right arm they dragged it to the hole prepared for the nail, and having tied it tightly down with a cord, one of them knelt upon his sacred chest, a second held his hand flat, and a third taking a long thick nail, pressed it on the open palm of that adorable hand, which had ever been open to bestow blessings and favours on the ungrateful Jews, and with a great iron hammer drove it through the flesh, and far into the wood of the cross. Our Lord uttered one deep but suppressed groan, and his blood gushed forth and sprinkled the arms of the archers. I counted the blows of the hammer, but my extreme grief made me forget their number. The nails were very large, the heads about the size of a crown piece, and the thickness that of a man's thumb, while the points came through at the back of the cross. The Blessed Virgin stood motionless; from time to time you might distinguish her plaintive moans; she appeared as if almost fainting from grief, and Magdalen was quite beside herself. When the executioners had nailed the right hand of our Lord, they perceived that his left hand did not reach the hole they had bored to receive the nail, therefore they tied ropes to his left arm, and having steadied their feet against the cross, pulled the left hand violently until it reached the place prepared for it. This dreadful process caused our Lord indescribable agony, his breast heaved, and his legs were quite contracted. They again knelt upon him, tied down his arms, and drove the second nail into his left hand; his blood flowed afresh, and his feeble groans were once more heard between the blows of the hammer, but nothing could move the hard-hearted executioners to the slightest pity. The arms of Jesus, thus unnaturally stretched out, no longer covered the arms of the cross, which were sloped; there was a wide space between them and his armpits. Each additional torture and insult inflicted on our Lord caused a fresh pang in the heart of his Blessed Mother; she became white as a corpse, but as the Pharisees endeavoured to increase her pain by insulting words and gestures, the disciples led her to a group of pious women who were standing a little farther off. The executioners had fastened a piece of wood at the lower part of the cross under where the feet of Jesus would be nailed, that thus the weight of his body might not rest upon the wounds of his hands, as also to prevent the bones of his feet from being broken when nailed to the cross. A hole had been pierced in this wood to receive the nail when driven through his feet, and there was likewise a little hollow place for his heels. These precautions were taken lest his wounds should be torn open by the weight of this body, and death ensue before he had suffered all the tortures which they hoped to see him endure. The whole body of our Lord had been dragged upward, and contracted by the violent manner with which the executioners had stretched out his arms, and his knees were bent up; they therefore flattened and tied them down tightly with cords; but soon perceiving that his feet did not reach the bit of wood which was placed for them to rest upon, they became infuriated. Some of their number proposed making fresh holes for the nails which pierced his hands, as there would be considerable difficulty in removing the bit of wood, but the others would do nothing of the sort, and continued to vociferate, 'He will not stretch himself out, but we will help him;' they accompanied these words with the most fearful oaths and imprecations, and having fastened a rope to his right leg, dragged it violently until it reached the wood, and then tied it down as tightly as possible. The agony which Jesus suffered from this violent tension was indescribable; the words 'My God, my God,' escaped his lips, and the executioners increased his pain by tying his chest and arms to the cross, lest the hands should be torn from the nails. They then fastened his left foot on to his right foot, having first bored a hole through them with a species of piercer, because they could not be placed in such a position as to be nailed together at once. Next they took a very long nail and drove it completely through both feet into the cross below, which operation was more than usually painful, on account of his body being so unnaturally stretched out; I counted at least six and thirty blows of the hammer. During the whole time of the crucifixion our Lord never ceased praying, and repeating those passages in the Psalms which he was then accompanying, although from time to time a feeble moan caused by excess of suffering might be heard. In this manner he had prayed when carrying his cross, and thus he continued to pray until his death. I heard him repeat all these prophecies; I repeated them after him, and I have often since noted the different passages when reading the Psalms, but I now feel so exhausted with grief that I cannot at all connect them. When the crucifixion of Jesus was finished, the commander of the Roman soldiers ordered Pilate's inscription to be nailed on the top of the cross. The Pharisees were much incensed at this, and their anger was increased by the jeers of the Roman soldiers, who pointed at their crucified king; they therefore hastened back to Jerusalem, determined to use their best endeavours to persuade the governor to allow them to substitute another inscription. It was about a quarter past twelve when Jesus was crucified, and at the moment the cross was lifted up, the Temple resounded with the blast of trumpets, which were always blown to announce the sacrifice of the Paschal Lamb. CHAPTER XXXIX. Raising of the Cross. When the executioners had finished the crucifixion of our Lord, they tied ropes to the trunk of the cross, and fastened the ends of these ropes round a long beam which was fixed firmly in the ground at a little distance, and by means of these ropes they raised the cross. Some of their number supported it while others shoved its foot towards the hole prepared for its reception--the heavy cross fell into this hole with a frightful shock--Jesus uttered a faint cry, and his wounds were torn open in the most fearful manner, his blood again burst forth, and his half dislocated bones knocked one against the other. The archers pushed the cross to get it thoroughly into the hole, and caused it to vibrate still more by planting five stakes around to support it. A terrible, but at the same time a touching sight it was to behold the cross raised up in the midst of the vast concourse of persons who were assembled all around; not only insulting soldiers, proud Pharisees, and the brutal Jewish mob were there, but likewise strangers from all parts. The air resounded with acclamations and derisive cries when they beheld it towering on high, and after vibrating for a moment in the air, fall with a heavy crash into the hole cut for it in the rock. But words of love and compassion resounded through the air at the same moment; and need we say that these words, these sounds, were emitted by the most saintly of human beings--Mary--John--the holy women, and all who were pure of heart? They bowed down and adored the 'Word made flesh,' nailed to the cross; they stretched forth their hands as if desirous of giving assistance to the Holy of Holies, whom they beheld nailed to a cross and in the power of his furious enemies. But when the solemn sound of the fall of the cross into the hole prepared for it in the rock was heard, a dead silence ensued, every heart was filled with an indefinable feeling of awe--a feeling never before experienced, and for which no one could account, even to himself; all the inmates of hell shook with terror, and vented their rage by endeavouring to stimulate the enemies of Jesus to still greater fury and brutality; the souls in Limbo were filled with joy and hope, for the sound was to them a harbinger of happiness, the prelude to the appearance of their Deliverer. Thus was the blessed cross of our Lord planted for the first time on the earth; and well might it be compared to the tree of life in Paradise, for the wounds of Jesus were as sacred fountains, from which flowed four rivers destined both to purify the world from the curse of sin, and to give it fertility, so as to produce fruit unto salvation. The eminence on which the cross was planted was about two feet higher than the surrounding parts; the feet of Jesus were sufficiently near the ground for his friends to be able to reach to kiss them, and his face was turned to the north-west. CHAPTER XL. Crucifixion of the Thieves. During the time of the crucifixion of Jesus, the two thieves were left lying on the ground at some distance off; their arms were fastened to the crosses on which they were to be executed, and a few soldiers stood near on guard. The accusation which had been proved against them was that of having assassinated a Jewish woman who, with her children, was travelling from Jerusalem to Joppa. They were arrested, under the disguise of rich merchants, at a castle in which Pilate resided occasionally, when employed in exercising his troops, and they had been imprisoned for a long time before being brought to trial. The thief placed on the left-hand side was much older than the other; a regular miscreant, who had corrupted the younger. They were commonly called Dismas and Gesmas, and as I forget their real names I shall distinguish them by these terms, calling the good one Dismas, and the wicked one Gesmas. Both the one and the other belonged to a band of robbers who infested the frontiers of Egypt; and it was in a cave inhabited by these robbers that the Holy Family took refuge when flying into Egypt, at the time of the massacre of the Innocents. The poor leprous child, who was instantly cleansed by being dipped in the water which had been used for washing the infant Jesus, was no other than this Dismas, and the charity of his mother, in receiving and granting hospitality to the Holy Family, had been rewarded by the cure of her child; while this outward purification was an emblem of the inward purification which was afterwards accomplished in the soul of Dismas on Mount Calvary, through that Sacred Blood which was then shed on the cross for our redemption. Dismas knew nothing at all about Jesus, but as his heart was not hardened, the sight of the extreme patience of our Lord moved him much. When the executioners had finished putting up the cross of Jesus, they ordered the thieves to rise without delay, and they loosened their fetters in order to crucify them at once, as the sky was becoming very cloudy and bore every appearance of an approaching storm. After giving them some myrrh and vinegar, they stripped off their ragged clothing, tied ropes round their arms, and by the help of small ladders dragged them up to their places on the cross. The executioners then bound the arms of the thieves to the cross, with cords made of the bark of trees, and fastened their wrists, elbows, knees, and feet in like manner, drawing the cords so tight that their joints cracked, and the blood burst out. They uttered piercing cries, and the good thief exclaimed as they were drawing him up, 'This torture is dreadful, but if they had treated us as they treated the poor Galilean, we should have been dead long ago.' The executioners had divided the garments of Jesus, in order to draw lots for them; his mantle, which was narrow at the top, was very wide at the bottom, and lined over the chest, thus forming a pocket between the lining and the material itself; the lining they pulled out, tore into bands, and divided. They did the same with his long white robe, belt, scapular, and under-garment, which was completely saturated with his Sacred Blood. Not being able to agree as to who was to be the possessor of the seamless robe woven by his Mother, which could not be cut up and divided, they brought out a species of chessboard marked with figures, and were about to decide the point by lots, when a messenger, sent by Nicodemus and Joseph of Arimathea, informed them that there were persons ready to purchase all the clothes of Jesus; they therefore gathered them together and sold them in a bundle. Thus did the Christians get possession of these precious relics. CHAPTER XLI. Jesus hanging on the Cross between two Thieves. The tremendous concussion caused by the fall of the cross into the hole prepared for it drove the sharp points of the crown of thorns, which was still upon the head of our dear Saviour, still deeper into his sacred flesh, and blood ran down again in streams, both from it and from his hands and feet. The archers then placed ladders against the sides of the cross, mounted them and unfastened the ropes with which they had bound our Lord to the cross, previous to lifting it up, fearing that the shock might tear open the wounds in his hands and feet, and that then the nails would no longer support his body. His blood had become, in a certain degree, stagnated by his horizontal position and the pressure of the cords, but when these were withdrawn, it resumed its usual course, and caused such agonising sensations throughout his countless wounds, that he bowed his head, and remained as if dead for more than seven minutes. A pause ensued; the executioners were occupied with the division of his garments; the trumpets in the Temple no longer resounded; and all the actors in this fearful tragedy appeared to be exhausted, some by grief, and others by the efforts they had made to compass their wicked ends, and by the joy which they felt now at having at last succeeded in bringing about the death of him whom they had so long envied. With mixed feelings of fear and compassion I cast my eyes upon Jesus,--Jesus my Redeemer,--the Redeemer of the world. I beheld him motionless, and almost lifeless. I felt as if I myself must expire; my heart was overwhelmed between grief, love, and horror; my mind was half wandering, my hands and feet burning with a feverish heat; each vein, nerve, and limb was racked with inexpressible pain; I saw nothing distinctly, excepting my beloved Spouse hanging on the cross. I contemplated his disfigured countenance, his head encircled with that terrible crown of thorns, which prevented his raising it even for a moment without the most intense suffering, his mouth parched and half open from exhaustion, and his hair and beard clotted with blood. His chest was torn with stripes and wounds, and his elbows, wrists, and shoulders so violently distended as to be almost dislocated; blood constantly trickled down from the gaping wounds in his hands, and the flesh was so torn from his ribs that you might almost count them. His legs and thighs, as also his arms, were stretched out almost to dislocation, the flesh and muscles so completely laid bare that every bone was visible, and his whole body covered with black, green, and reeking wounds. The blood which flowed from his wounds was at first red, but it became by degrees light and watery, and the whole appearance of his body was that of a corpse ready for interment. And yet, notwithstanding the horrible wounds with which he was covered, notwithstanding the state of ignominy to which he was reduced, there still remained that inexpressible look of dignity and goodness which had ever filled all beholders with awe. The complexion of our Lord was fair, like that of Mary, and slightly tinted with red; but his exposure to the weather during the last three years had tanned him considerably. His chest was wide, but not hairy like that of St. John Baptist; his shoulders broad, and his arms and thighs sinewy; his knees were strong and hardened, as is usually the case with those who have either walked or knelt much, and his legs long, with very strong muscles; his feet were well formed, and his hands beautiful, the fingers being long and tapering, and although not delicate like those of a woman, still not resembling those of a man who had laboured hard. His neck was rather long, with a well-set and finely proportioned head; his forehead large and high; his face oval; his hair, which was far from thick, was of a golden brown colour, parted in the middle and falling over his shoulders; his beard was not any great length, but pointed and divided under the chin. When I contemplated him on the cross, his hair was almost all torn off, and what remained was matted and clotted with blood; his body was one wound, and every limb seemed as if dislocated. The crosses of the two thieves were placed, the one to the right and the other to the left of Jesus; there was sufficient space left for a horseman to ride between them. Nothing can be imagined more distressing than the appearance of the thieves on their crosses; they suffered terribly, and the one on the left-hand side never ceased cursing and swearing. The cords with which they were tied were very tight, and caused great pain; their countenances were livid, and their eyes enflamed and ready to start from the sockets. The height of the crosses of the two thieves was much less than that of our Lord. CHAPTER XLII. First Word of Jesus on the Cross. As soon as the executioners had crucified the two thieves and divided the garment of Jesus between them, they gathered up their tools, addressed a few more insulting words to our Lord, and went away. The Pharisees, likewise, rode up to Jesus, looked at him scornfully, made use of some opprobrious expression, and then left the place. The Roman soldiers, of whom a hundred had been posted round Calvary, were marched away, and their places filled by fifty others, the command of whom was given to Abenadar, an Arab by birth, who afterwards took the name of Ctesiphon in baptism; and the second in command was Cassius, who, when he became a Christian, was known by the name of Longinus: Pilate frequently made use of him as a messenger. Twelve Pharisees, twelve Sadducees, as many scribes, and a few ancients, accompanied by those Jews who had been endeavouring to persuade Pilate to change the inscription on the Cross of Jesus, then came up: they were furious, as the Roman governor had given them a direct refusal. They rode round the platform, and drove away the Blessed Virgin, whom St. John led to the holy women. When they passed the Cross of Jesus, they shook their heads disdainfully at him, exclaiming at the same time, 'Vah! thou that destroyest the temple of God, and in three days buildest it up again, save thyself, coming down from the Cross. Let Christ, the King of Israel, come down now from the Cross, that we may see and believe.' The soldiers, likewise, made use of deriding language. The countenance and whole body of Jesus became even more colourless: he appeared to be on the point of fainting, and Gesmas (the wicked thief) exclaimed, 'The demon by whom he is possessed is about to leave him.' A soldier then took a sponge, filled it with vinegar, put it on a reed, and presented it to Jesus, who appeared to drink. 'If thou art the King of the Jews,' said the soldier, 'save thyself, coming down from the Cross.' These things took place during the time that the first band of soldiers was being relieved by that of Abenadar. Jesus raised his head a little, and said, 'Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.' And Gesmas cried out, 'If thou art the Christ, save thyself and us.' Dismas (the good thief) was silent, but he was deeply moved at the prayer of Jesus for his enemies. When Mary heard the voice of her Son, unable to restrain herself, she rushed forward, followed by John, Salome, and Mary of Cleophas, and approached the Cross, which the kind-hearted centurion did not prevent. The prayers of Jesus obtained for the good thief a moist powerful grace; he suddenly remembered that it was Jesus and Mary who had cured him of leprosy in his childhood, and he exclaimed in a loud and clear voice, 'How can you insult him when he prays for you? He has been silent, and suffered all your outrages with patience; he is truly a Prophet--he is our King--he is the Son of God.' This unexpected reproof from the lips of a miserable malefactor who was dying on a cross caused a tremendous commotion among the spectators; they gathered up stones, and wished to throw them at him; but the centurion Abenadar would not allow it. The Blessed Virgin was much comforted and strengthened by the prayer of Jesus, and Dismas said to Gesmas, who was still blaspheming Jesus, 'Neither dost thou fear God, seeing thou art under the same condemnation. And we indeed justly, for we receive the due reward of our deeds; but this man hath done no evil. Remember thou art now at the point of death, and repent.' He was enlightened and touched: he confessed his sins to Jesus, and said: 'Lord, if thou condemnest me it will be with justice.' And Jesus replied, 'Thou shalt experience my mercy.' Dismas, filled with the most perfect contrition, began instantly to thank God for the great graces he had received, and to reflect over the manifold sins of his past life. All these events took place between twelve and the half-hour shortly after the crucifixion; but such a surprising change had taken place in the appearance of nature during that time as to astonish the beholders and fill their minds with awe and terror. CHAPTER XLIII. Eclipse of the Sun. Second and Third Word of Jesus on the Cross. A little hail had fallen at about ten o'clock,--when Pilate was passing sentence,--and after that the weather cleared up, until towards twelve, when the thick red-looking fog began to obscure the sun. Towards the sixth hour, according to the manner of counting of the Jews, the sun was suddenly darkened. I was shown the exact cause of this wonderful phenomenon; but I have unfortunately partly forgotten it, and what I have not forgotten I cannot find words to express; but I was lifted up from the earth, and beheld the stars and the planets moving about out of their proper spheres. I saw the moon like an immense ball of fire rolling along as if flying from the earth. I was then suddenly taken back to Jerusalem, and I beheld the moon reappear behind the Mountain of Olives, looking pale and full, and advancing rapidly towards the sun, which was dim and over-shrouded by a fog. I saw to the east of the sun a large dark body which had the appearance of a mountain, and which soon entirely hid the sun. The centre of this body was dark yellow, and a red circle like a ring of fire was round it. The sky grew darker and the stars appeared to cast a red and lurid light. Both men and beasts were struck with terror; the enemies of Jesus ceased reviling him, while the Pharisees endeavoured to give philosophical reasons for what was taking place, but they failed in their attempt, and were reduced to silence. Many were seized with remorse, struck their breasts, and cried out, 'May his blood fall upon his murderers!' Numbers of others, whether near the Cross or at a distance, fell on their knees and entreated forgiveness of Jesus, who turned his eyes compassionately upon them in the midst of his sufferings. However, the darkness continued to increase, and everyone excepting Mary and the most faithful among the friends of Jesus left the Cross. Dismas then raised his head, and in a tone of humility and hope said to Jesus, 'Lord, remember me when thou shalt come into thy kingdom.' And Jesus made answer, 'Amen, I say to thee, This day thou shalt be with me in Paradise.' Magdalen, Mary of Cleophas, and John stood near the Cross of our Lord and looked at him, while the Blessed Virgin, filled with intense feelings of motherly love, entreated her Son to permit her to die with him; but he, casting a look of ineffable tenderness upon her, turned to John and said, 'Woman, behold thy son;' then he said to John, 'Behold thy mother.' John looked at his dying Redeemer, and saluted this beloved mother (whom he henceforth considered as his own) in the most respectful manner. The Blessed Virgin was so overcome by grief at these words of Jesus that she almost fainted, and was carried to a short distance from the Cross by the holy women. I do not know whether Jesus really pronounced these words, but I felt interiorly that he gave Mary to John as a mother, and John to Mary as a son. In similar visions a person is often conscious of things which are not written, and words can only express a portion of them, although to the individual to whom they are shown they are so clear as not to require explanation. For this reason it did not appear to me in the least surprising that Jesus should call the Blessed Virgin 'Woman,' instead of 'Mother.' I felt that he intended to demonstrate that she was that woman spoken of in Scripture who was to crush the head of the serpent, and that then was the moment in which that promise was accomplished in the death of her Son. I knew that Jesus, by giving her as a mother to John, gave her also as a mother to all who believe in him, who become children of God, and are not born of flesh and blood, or of the will of man, but of God. Neither did it appear to me surprising that the most pure, the most humble, and the most obedient among women, who, when saluted by the angel as 'full of grace,' immediately replied, 'Behold the handmaid of the Lord, be it done to me according to thy word,' and in whose sacred womb the Word was instantly made flesh,--that she, when informed by her dying Son that she was to become the spiritual mother of another son, should repeat the same words with humble obedience, and immediately adopt as her children all the children of God, the brothers of Jesus Christ. These things are much easier to feel by the grace of God than to be expressed in words. I remember my celestial Spouse once saying to me, 'Everything is imprinted in the hearts of those children of the Church who believe, hope, and love.' CHAPTER XLIV. The Fear felt by the Inhabitants of Jerusalem. Fourth Word of Jesus on the Cross. It was about half-past one o'clock when I was taken into Jerusalem to see what was going on there. The inhabitants were perfectly overcome with terror and anxiety; the streets dark and gloomy, and some persons were feeling their way about, while others, seated on the ground with their heads veiled, struck their breasts, or went up to the roofs of their houses, looked at the sky, and burst forth in bitter lamentations. Even the animals uttered mournful cries, and hid themselves; the birds flew low, and fell to the ground. I saw Pilate conferring with Herod on the alarming state of things: they were both extremely agitated, and contemplated the appearance of the sky from that terrace upon which Herod was standing when he delivered up Jesus to be insulted by the infuriated rabble. 'These events are not in the common course of nature,' they both exclaimed: 'they must be caused by the anger of the gods, who are displeased at the cruelty which has been exercised towards Jesus of Nazareth.' Pilate and Herod, surrounded by guards, then directed their hasty trembling steps through the forum to Herod's palace. Pilate turned away his head when he passed Gabbatha, from whence he had condemned Jesus to be crucified. The square was almost empty; a few persons might be seen re-entering their houses as quickly as possible, and a few others running about and weeping, while two or three small groups might be distinguished in the distance. Pilate sent for some of the ancients and asked them what they thought the astounding darkness could possible portend, and said that he himself considered it a terrific proof of the anger of their God at the crucifixion of the Galilean, who was most certainly their prophet and their king: he added that he had nothing to reproach himself with on that head, for he had washed his hands of the whole affair, and was, therefore, quite innocent. The ancients were as hardened as ever, and replied, in a sullen tone, that there was nothing unnatural in the course of events, that they might be easily accounted for by philosophers, and that they did not repent of anything they had done. However, many persons were converted, and among others those soldiers who fell to the ground at the words of our Lord when they were sent to arrest him in the Garden of Olives. The rabble assembled before Pilate's house, and instead of the cry of 'Crucify him, crucify him!' which had resounded in the morning, you might have heard vociferations of 'Down with the iniquitous judge!' 'May the blood of the just man fall upon his murderers!' Pilate was much alarmed; he sent for additional guards, and endeavoured to cast all the blame upon the Jews. He again declared that the crime was not his; that he was no subject of this Jesus, whom they had put to death unjustly, and who was their king, their prophet, their Holy One; that they alone were guilty, as it must be evident to all that he condemned Jesus solely from compulsion. The Temple was thronged with Jews, who were intent on the immolation of the Paschal lamb; but when the darkness increased to such a degree that it was impossible to distinguish the countenance of one from that of the other, they were seized with fear, horror, and dread, which they expressed by mournful cries and lamentations. The High Priests endeavoured to maintain order and quiet. All the lamps were lighted; but the confusion became greater every moment, and Annas appeared perfectly paralysed with terror. I saw him endeavouring to hide first in one place, and then in another. When I left the Temple, and walked through the streets, I remarked that, although not a breath of wind was stirring, yet both the doors and windows of the houses were shaking as if in a storm, and the darkness was becoming every moment more dense. The consternation produced by the sudden darkness at Mount Calvary was indescribable. When it first commenced, the confusion of the noise of the hammers, the vociferations of the rabble, the cries of the two thieves on being fastened to their crosses, the insulting speeches of the Pharisees, the evolutions of the soldiers, and the drunken shouts of the executioners, had so completely engrossed the attention of everyone, that the change which was gradually coming over the face of nature was not remarked; but as the darkness increased, every sound ceased, each voice was hushed, and remorse and terror took possession of every heart, while the bystanders retired one by one to a distance from the Cross. Then it was that Jesus gave his Mother to St. John, and that she, overcome by grief, was carried away to a short distance. As the darkness continued to grow more and more dense, the silence became perfectly astounding; everyone appeared terror struck; some looked at the sky, while others, filled with remorse, turned towards the Cross, smote their breasts, and were converted. Although the Pharisees were in reality quite as much alarmed as other persons, yet they endeavoured at first to put a bold face on the matter, and declared that they could see nothing unaccountable in these events; but at last even they lost assurance, and were reduced to silence. The disc of the sun was of a dark-yellow tint, rather resembling a mountain when viewed by moonlight, and it was surrounded by a bright fiery ring; the stars appeared, but the light they cast was red and lurid; the birds were so terrified as to drop to the ground; the beasts trembled and moaned; the horses and the asses of the Pharisees crept as close as possible to one another, and put their heads between their legs. The thick fog penetrated everything. Stillness reigned around the Cross. Jesus hung upon it alone; forsaken by all,--disciples, followers, friends, his Mother even was removed from his side; not one person of the thousands upon whom he had lavished benefits was near to offer him the slightest alleviation in his bitter agony,--his soul was overspread with an indescribable feeling of bitterness and grief,--all within him was dark, gloomy, and wretched. The darkness which reigned around was but symbolical of that which overspread his interior; he turned, nevertheless, to his Heavenly Father, he prayed for his enemies, he offered the chalice of his sufferings for their redemption, he continued to pray as he had done during the whole of his Passion, and repeated portions of those Psalms the prophecies of which were then receiving their accomplishment in him. I saw angels standing around. Again I looked at Jesus--my beloved Spouse--on his Cross, agonising and dying, yet still in dreary solitude. He at that moment endured anguish which no mortal pen can describe,--he felt that suffering which would overwhelm a poor weak mortal if deprived at once of all consolation, both divine and human, and then compelled, without refreshment, assistance, or light, to traverse the stormy desert of tribulation upheld by faith, hope, and charity alone. His sufferings were inexpressible; but it was by them that he merited for us the grace necessary to resist those temptations to despair which will assail us at the hour of death,--that tremendous hour when we shall feel that we are about to leave all that is dear to us here below. When our minds, weakened by disease, have lost the power of reasoning, and even our hopes of mercy and forgiveness are become, as it were, enveloped in mist and uncertainty,--then it is that we must fly to Jesus, unite our feelings of desolation with that indescribable dereliction which he endured upon the Cross, and be certain of obtaining a glorious victory over our infernal enemies. Jesus then offered to his Eternal Father his poverty, his dereliction, his labours, and, above all, the bitter sufferings which our ingratitude had caused him to endure in expiation for our sins and weakness; no one, therefore, who is united to Jesus in the bosom of his Church must despair at the awful moment preceding his exit from this life, even if he be deprived of all sensible light and comfort; for he must then remember that the Christian is no longer obliged to enter this dark desert alone and unprotected, as Jesus has cast his own interior and exterior dereliction on the Cross into this gulf of desolation, consequently he will not be left to cope alone with death, or be suffered to leave this world in desolation of spirit, deprived of heavenly consolation. All fear of loneliness and despair in death must therefore be cast away; for Jesus, who is our true light, the Way, the Truth, and the Life, has preceded us on that dreary road, has overspread it with blessings, and raised his Cross upon it, one glance at which will calm our every fear. Jesus then (if we may so express ourselves) made his last testament in the presence of his Father, and bequeathed the merits of his Death and Passion to the Church and to sinners. Not one erring soul was forgotten; he thought of each and everyone; praying, likewise, even for those heretics who have endeavoured to prove that, being God, he did not suffer as a man would have suffered in his place. The cry which he allowed to pass his lips in the height of his agony was intended not only to show the excess of the sufferings he was then enduring, but likewise to encourage all afflicted souls who acknowledge God as their Father to lay their sorrows with filial confidence at his feet. It was towards three o'clock when he cried out in a loud voice, 'Eloi, Eloi, lamma sabacthani?' 'My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?' These words of our Lord interrupted the dead silence which had continued so long; the Pharisees turned towards him, and one of them said, 'Behold, he calleth Elias;' and another, 'Let us see whether Elias will come to deliver him.' When Mary heard the voice of her divine Son, she was unable to restrain herself any longer, but rushed forwards, and returned to the foot of the Cross, followed by John, Mary the daughter of Cleophas, Mary Magdalen, and Salome. A troop of about thirty horsemen from Judea and the environs of Joppa, who were on their way to Jerusalem for the festival, passed by just at the time when all was silent round the Cross, both assistants and spectators being transfixed with terror and apprehensions. When they beheld Jesus hanging on the Cross, saw the cruelty with which he had been treated, and remarked the extraordinary signs of God's wrath which overspread the face of nature, they were filled with horror, and exclaimed, 'If the Temple of God were not in Jerusalem, the city should be burned to the ground for having taken upon itself so fearful a crime.' These words from the lips of strangers--strangers too who bore the appearance of persons of rank--made a great impression on the bystanders, and loud murmurs and exclamations of grief were heard on all sides; some individuals gathered together in groups, more freely to indulge their sorrow, although a certain portion of the crowd continued to blaspheme and revile all around them. The Pharisees were compelled to assume a more humble tone, for they feared great existing excitement among the inhabitants of Jerusalem. They therefore held a consultation with Abenadar, the centurion, and agreed with him that the gate of the city, which was in the vicinity, should be closed, in order to prevent farther communication, and that they should send to Pilate and Herod for 500 men to guard against the chance of an insurrection, the centurion, in the mean time, doing all in his power to maintain order, and preventing the Pharisees from insulting Jesus, lest it should exasperate the people still more. Shortly after three o'clock the light reappeared in a degree, the moon began to pass away from the disc of the sun, while the sun again shone forth, although its appearance was dim, being surrounded by a species of red mist; by degrees it became more bright, and the stars vanished, but the sky was still gloomy. The enemies of Jesus soon recovered their arrogant spirit when they saw the light returning; and it was then that they exclaimed, 'Behold, he calleth Elias.' CHAPTER XLV. Fifth, Sixth, and Seventh Words of Jesus on the Cross. His Death. The light continued to return by degrees, and the livid exhausted countenance of our Lord again became visible. His body was become much more white from the quantity of blood he had lost; and I heard him exclaim, 'I am pressed as the grape, which is trodden in the winepress. My blood shall be poured out until water cometh, but wine shall here be made no more.' I cannot be sure whether he really pronounced these words, so as to be heard by others, or whether they were only an answer given to my interior prayer. I afterwards had a vision relating to these words, and in it I saw Japhet making wine in this place. Jesus was almost fainting; his tongue was parched, and he said: 'I thirst.' The disciples who were standing round the Cross looked at him with the deepest expression of sorrow, and he added, 'Could you not have given me a little water?' By these words he gave them to understand that no one would have prevented them from doing so during the darkness. John was filled with remorse, and replied: 'We did not think of doing so, O Lord.' Jesus pronounced a few more words, the import of which was: 'My friends and my neighbours were also to forget me, and not give me to drink, that so what was written concerning me might be fulfilled.' This omission had afflicted him very much. The disciples then offered money to the soldiers to obtain permission to give him a little water: they refused to give it, but dipped a sponge in vinegar and gall, and were about to offer it to Jesus, when the centurion Abenadar, whose heart was touched with compassion, took it from them, squeezed out the gal, poured some fresh vinegar upon it, and fastening it to a reed, put the reed at the end of a lance, and presented it for Jesus to drink. I heard our Lord say several other things, but I only remember these words: 'When my voice shall be silent, the mouths of the dead shall be opened.' Some of the bystanders cried out: 'He blasphemeth again.' But Abenadar compelled them to be silent. The hour of our Lord was at last come; his death-struggle had commenced; a cold sweat overspread every limb. John stood at the foot of the Cross, and wiped the feet of Jesus with his scapular. Magdalen was crouched to the ground in a perfect frenzy of grief behind the Cross. The Blessed Virgin stood between Jesus and the good thief, supported by Salome and Mary of Cleophas, with her eyes rivetted on the countenance of her dying Son. Jesus then said: 'It is consummated;' and, raising his head, cried out in a loud voice, 'Father, into thy hands I commend my spirit.' These words, which he uttered in a clear and thrilling tone, resounded through heaven and earth; and a moment after, he bowed down his head and gave up the ghost. I saw his soul, under the appearance of a bright meteor, penetrate the earth at the foot of the Cross. John and the holy women fell prostrate on the ground. The centurion Abenadar had kept his eyes steadfastly fixed on the disfigured countenance of our Lord, and was perfectly overwhelmed by all that had taken place. When our Lord pronounced his last words, before expiring, in a loud tone, the earth trembled, and the rock of Calvary burst asunder, forming a deep chasm between the Cross of our Lord and that of Gesmas. The voice of God--that solemn and terrible voice--had re-echoed through the whole universe; it had broken the solemn silence which then pervaded all nature. All was accomplished. The soul of our Lord had left his body: his last cry had filled every breast with terror. The convulsed earth had paid homage to its Creator: the sword of grief had pierced the hearts of those who loved him. This moment was the moment of grace for Abenadar: his horse trembled under him; his heart was touched; it was rent like the hard rock; he threw his lance to a distance, struck his breast, and cried out: 'Blessed be the Most High God, the God of Abraham, of Isaac, and of Jacob; indeed this Man was the Son of God!' His words convinced many among the soldiers, who followed his example, and were likewise converted. Abenadar became from this moment a new man; he adored the true God, and would no longer serve his enemies. He gave both his horse and his lance to a subaltern of the name of Longinus, who, having addressed a few words to the soldiers, mounted his horse, and took the command upon himself. Abenadar then left Calvary, and went through the Valley of Gihon to the caves in the Valley of Hinnom, where the disciples were hidden, announced the death of our Lord to them, and then went to the town, in order to see Pilate. No sooner had Abenadar rendered public testimony of his belief in the divinity of Jesus, than a large number of soldiers followed his example, as did also some of the bystanders, and even a few Pharisees. Many struck their breasts, wept, and returned home, while others rent their garments, and cast dust on their heads, and all were filled with horror and fear. John arose; and some of the holy women who were at a short distance came up to the Blessed Virgin, and led her away from the foot of the Cross. When Jesus, the Lord of life and death, gave up his soul into the hands of his Father, and allowed death to take possession of his body, this sacred body trembled and turned lividly white; the countless wounds which were covered with congealed blood appeared like dark marks; his cheeks became more sunken, his nose more pointed, and his eyes, which were obscured with blood, remained but half open. He raised his weary head, which was still crowned with thorns, for a moment, and then dropped it again in agony of pain; while his parched and torn lips, only partially closed, showed his bloody and swollen tongue. At the moment of death his hands, which were at one time contracted round the nails, opened and returned to their natural size, as did also his arms; his body became stiff, and the whole weight was thrown upon the feet, his knees bent, and his feet twisted a little on one side. What words can, alas, express the deep grief of the Blessed Virgin? Her eyes closed, a death-like tint overspread her countenance; unable to stand, she fell to the ground, but was soon lifted up, and supported by John, Magdalen, and the others. She looked once more upon her beloved Son--that Son whom she had conceived by the Holy Ghost, the flesh of her flesh, the bone of her bone, the heart of her heart--hanging on a cross between two thieves; crucified, dishonoured, contemned by those whom he came on earth to save; and well might she at this moment be termed 'the queen of martyrs.' The sun still looked dim and suffused with mist; and during the time of the earthquake the air was close and oppressive, but by degrees it became more clear and fresh. It was about three o'clock when Jesus expired. The Pharisees were at first much alarmed at the earthquake; but when the first shock was over they recovered themselves, began to throw stones into the chasm, and tried to measure its depth with ropes. Finding, however, that they could not fathom its bottom, they became thoughtful, listened anxiously to the groans of the penitents, who were lamenting and striking their breasts, and then left Calvary. Many among the spectators were really converted, and the greatest part returned to Jerusalem perfectly overcome with fear. Roman soldiers were placed at the gates, and in other principal parts of the city, to prevent the possibility of an insurrection. Cassius remained on Calvary with about fifty soldiers. The friends of Jesus stood round the Cross, contemplated our Lord, and wept; many among the holy women had returned to their homes, and all were silent and overcome with grief. CHAPTER XLVI. The Earthquake. Apparitions of the Dead in Jerusalem. I saw the soul of Jesus, at the moment he expired, appear under the form of a bright orb, and accompanied by angels, among whom I distinguished the angel Gabriel penetrate the earth at the foot of the Cross. I likewise saw these angels cast a number of evil spirits into the great abyss, and I heard Jesus order several of the souls in Limbo to re-enter the bodies in which they once dwelt, in order that the sight might fill sinners with a salutary terror, and that these souls might render a solemn testimony to his divinity. The earthquake which produced the deep chasm at Calvary did much damage in different parts of Palestine, but ifs effects were even more fatal in Jerusalem. Its inhabitants were just beginning to be a little reassured by the return of light, when their terror was reawakened with double force by the shocks of the earthquake, and the terrible noise and confusion caused by the downfall of houses and walls on all sides, which panic was still farther increased by the sudden appearance of dead persons, confronting the trembling miscreants who were flying to hide themselves, and addressing them in the most severe and reproachful language. The High Priests had recommenced the sacrifice of the Paschal lamb (which had been stopped by the unexpected darkness), and they were triumphing at the return of light, when suddenly the ground beneath them trembled, the neighbouring buildings fell down, and the veil of the Temple was rent in two from the top to the bottom. Excess of terror at first rendered those on the outside speechless, but after a time they burst forth into cries and lamentations. The confusion in the interior of the Temple was not, however, as great as would naturally have been expected, because the strictest order and decorum were always enforced there, particularly with regard to the regulation to be followed by those who entered to make their sacrifice, and those who left after having offered it. The crowd was great, but the ceremonies were so solemnly carried out by the priests, that they totally engrossed the minds of the assistants. First came the immolation of the lamb, then the sprinkling of its blood, accompanied by the chanting of canticles and the sounding of trumpets. The priests were endeavouring to continue the sacrifices, when suddenly an unexpected and most appalling pause ensued; terror and astonishment were depicted on each countenance; all was thrown into confusion; not a sound was heard; the sacrifices ceased; there was a general rush to the gates of the Temple; everyone endeavoured to fly as quickly as possible. And well might they fly, well might they fear and tremble; for in the midst of the multitude there suddenly appeared persons who had been dead and buried for many years! These persons looked at them sternly, and reproved them most severely for the crime they had committed that day, in bringing about the death of 'the just man,' and calling down his blood upon their heads. Even in the midst of this confusion, some attempts were, however, made by the priests to preserve order; they prevented those who were in the inner part of the Temple from rushing forward, pushing their way through the crowds who were in advance of them, and descending the steps which led out of the Temple: they even continued the sacrifices in some parts, and endeavoured to calm the fears of the people. The appearance of the Temple at this moment can only be described by comparing it to an ant-hill on which persons have thrown stones, or which has been disturbed by a sick being driven into its centre. The ants in those parts on which the stones have fallen, or which the stick had disturbed, are filled with confusion and terror; they run to and fro and do nothing; while the ants in those parts which have not been disturbed continue to labour quietly, and even begin to repair the damaged parts. The High Priest Caiphas and his retinue did not lose their presence of mind, and by the outward tranquillity which their diabolical hardness of heart enabled them to preserve, they calmed the confusion in a great degree, and then did their utmost to prevent the people from looking upon these stupendous events as testimonies of the innocence of Jesus. The Roman garrison belonging to the fortress of Antonia likewise made great efforts to maintain order; consequently, the disturbance of the festival was not followed by an insurrection, although every heart was fixed with fear and anxiety, which anxiety the Pharisees endeavoured (and in some instances with success) to calm. I remember a few other striking incidents: in the first place, the two columns which were placed at the entrance of their Holy of Holies, and to which a magnificent curtain was appended, were shaken to the very foundations; the column on the left side fell down in a southerly, and that on the right side in a northerly direction, thus rending the veil in two from the top to the bottom with a fearful sound, and exposing the Holy of Holies uncovered to the public gaze. A large stone was loosened and fell from the wall at the entrance of the sanctuary, near where the aged Simeon used to kneel, and the arch was broken. The ground was heaved up, and many other columns were thrown down in other parts of the Temple. An apparition of the High Priest Zacharias, who was slain between the porch and the altar, was seen in the sanctuary. He uttered fearful menaces, spoke of the death of the second Zacharias, and of that of St. John Baptist, as also of the violent deaths of the other prophets.12 The two sons of the High Priest Simon, surnamed the Just (ancestors of the aged Simeon who prophesied when Jesus was presented in the Temple), made their appearance in the part usually occupied by the doctors of the law; they also spoke in terrific terms of the deaths of the prophets, of the sacrifice of the old law which was now about to cease, and they exhorted all present to be converted, and to embrace the doctrines which had been preached by him whom they had crucified. The prophet Jeremiah likewise appeared; he stood near the altar, and proclaimed, in a menacing tone, that the ancient sacrifice was at an end, and that a new one had commenced. As these apparitions took place in parts where none but priests were allowed to enter, Caiphas and a few others were alone cognisant of them, and they endeavoured, as far as possible, either to deny their reality, or to conceal them. These prodigies were followed by others still more extraordinary. The doors of the sanctuary flew open of themselves, and a voice was heard to utter these words: 'Let us leave this place;' and I saw all the angels of the Lord instantly leave the Temple. The thirty-two Pharisees who went to Calvary a short time before our Lord expired were almost all converted at the foot of the Cross. They returned to the Temple in the midst of the confusion, and were perfectly thunderstruck at all which had taken place there. They spoke most sternly, both to Annas and to Caiphas, and left the Temple. Annas had always been the most bitter of the enemies of Jesus, and had headed every proceeding against him; but the supernatural events which had taken place had completely unnerved him that he knew not where to hide himself. Caiphas was, in realty excessively alarmed, and filled with anxiety, but his pride was so great that he concealed his feelings as far as possible, and endeavoured to reassure Annas. He succeeded for a time; but the sudden appearance of a person who had been dead many years marred the effect of his words, and Annas became again a prey to the most fearful terror and remorse. Whilst these things were going on in the Temple, the confusion and panic were not less in Jerusalem. Dead persons were walking about, and many walls and buildings had been shaken by the earthquake, and parts of them fallen down. The superstition of Pilate rendered him even more accessible to fear; he was perfectly paralysed and speechless with terror; his palace was shaken to the very foundation, and the earth quaked beneath his feet. He ran wildly from room to room, and the dead constantly stood before him, reproaching him with the unjust sentence he had passed upon Jesus. He thought that they were the gods of the Galilean, and took refuge in an inner room, where he offered incense, and made vows to his idols to invoke their assistance in his distress. Herod was usually alarmed; but he shut himself up in his palace, out of the sight of everyone. More than a hundred persons who had died at different epochs re-entered the bodies they had occupied when on earth, made their appearance in different parts of Jerusalem, and filled the inhabitants with inexpressible consternation. Those souls which had been released by Jesus from Limbo uncovered their faces and wandered to and fro in the streets, and although their bodies were the same as those which they had animated when on earth, yet these bodies did not appear to touch the ground as they walked. They entered the houses of their descendants, proclaimed the innocence of Jesus, and reproved those who had taken part in his death most severely. I saw them passing through the principal streets; they were generally in couples, and appeared to me to glide through the airs without moving their feet. The countenances of some were pale; others of a yellow tint; their beards were long, and their voices sounded strange and sepulchral. Their grave-clothes were such as it was customary to use at the period of their decease. When they reached the place where sentence of death was proclaimed on Jesus before the procession started for Calvary, they paused for a moment, and exclaimed in a loud voice: 'Glory be to Jesus for ever and ever, and destruction to his enemies!' Towards four o'clock all the dead returned to their graves. The sacrifices in the Temple had been so interrupted, and the confusion caused by the different prodigies was so great, that very few persons ate the Paschal lamb on that evening. CHAPTER XLVII. The Request of Joseph of Arimathea to be allowed to have the Body of Jesus. Scarcely had the commotion which the town had been thrown into begun to subside in a degree, when the Jews belonging to the Council sent to Pilate to request that the legs of the criminals might be broken, in order to put an end to their lives before the Sabbath-day dawned. Pilate immediately dispatched executioners to Calvary to carry out their wishes. Joseph of Arimathea then demanded an audience; he had heard of the death of Jesus, and he and Nicodemus had determined to bury him in a new sepulchre which he had made at the end of his garden, not far from Calvary. Pilate was still filled with anxiety and solicitude, and was much astonished at seeing a person holding a high position like Joseph so anxious for leave to give honourable burial to a criminal whom he had sentenced to be ignominiously crucified. He sent for the centurion Abenadar, who returned to Jerusalem after he had conferred with the disciples who were hidden in the caverns, and asked him whether the King of the Jews was really dead. Abenadar gave Pilate a full account of the death of our Lord, of his last words, and of the loud cry he uttered immediately before death, and of the earthquake which had rent the great chasm in the rock. The only thing at which Pilate expressed surprise was that the death of Jesus should have taken place so quickly, as those who were crucified usually lived much longer; but although he said so little, every word uttered by Joseph increased his dismay and remorse. He instantly gave Joseph an order, by which he was authorised to take down the body of the King of the Jews from the Cross, and to perform the rites of sepulture at once. Pilate appeared to endeavour, by his readiness in granting this request, to wish to make up, in a degree, for his previous cruel and unjust conduct, and he was likewise very glad to do what he was certain would annoy the priests extremely, as he knew their wish was to have Jesus buried ignominiously between the two thieves. He dispatched a messenger to Calvary to see his orders executed. I believe the messenger was Abenadar, for I saw him assisting in taking Jesus down from the Cross. When Joseph of Arimathea left Pilate's palace, he instantly rejoined Nicodemus, who was waiting for him at the house of a pious woman, which stood opposite to a large street, and was not far from that alley where Jesus was so shamefully ill-treated when he first commenced carrying his Cross. The woman was a vendor of aromatic herbs, and Nicodemus had purchased many perfumes which were necessary for embalming the body of Jesus from her. She procured the more precious kinds from other places, and Joseph went away to procure a fine winding-sheet. His servants then fetched ladders, hammers, pegs, jars of water, and sponges, from a neighbouring shed, and placed them in a hand-barrow similar to that on which the disciples of John the Baptist put his body when they carried it off from the castle of Macherus. CHAPTER XLVIII. The Opening of the Side of Jesus. Death of the two thieves. Whilst these events were taking place in Jerusalem, silence reigned around Calvary. The crowd which had been for a time so noisy and tumultuous, was dispersed; all were panicstricken; in some that panic had produced sincere repentance, but on others it had had no beneficial effects. Mary, John, Magdalen, Mary of Cleophas, and Salome had remained, either standing or sitting before the Cross, closely veiled and weeping silently. A few soldiers were leaning over the terrace which enclosed the platform; Cassius rode up and down; the sky was lowering, and all nature wore a garb of mourning. Six archers soon after made their appearance, bringing with them ladders, spades, ropes, and large iron staves for the purpose of breaking the legs of the criminals, in order to hasten their deaths. When they approached our Lord's Cross, his friends retired a few paces back, and the Blessed Virgin was seized with fear lest they should indulge their hatred of Jesus by insulting even his dead body. Her fears were not quite unfounded, for when they first placed their ladders against the Cross they declared that he was only pretending to be dead; in a few moments, however, seeing that he was cold and stiff, they left him, and removed their ladders to the crosses on which the two thieves were still hanging alive. They took up their iron staves and broke the arms of the thieves above and below the elbow; while another archer at the same moment broke their legs, both above and below the knee. Gesmas uttered frightful cries, therefore the executioner finished him off by three heavy blows of a cudgel on his chest. Dismas gave a deep groan, and expired: he was the first among mortals who had the happiness of rejoining his Redeemer. The cords were then loosened, the two bodies fell to the ground, and the executioners dragged them to a deep morass, which was between Calvary and the walls of the town, and buried them there. The archers still appeared doubtful whether Jesus was really dead, and the brutality they had shown in breaking the legs of the thieves made the holy women tremble as to what outrage they might next perpetrate on the body of our Lord. But Cassius, the subaltern officer, a young man of about five-and-twenty, whose weak squinting eyes and nervous manner had often excited the derision of his companions, was suddenly illuminated by grace, and being quite overcome at the sight of the cruel conduct of the soldiers, and the deep sorrow of the holy women, determined to relieve their anxiety by proving beyond dispute that Jesus was really dead. The kindness of his heart prompted him, but unconsciously to himself he fulfilled a prophecy. He seized his lance and rode quickly up to the mound on which the Cross was planted, stopped just between the cross of the good thief and that of our Lord, and taking his lance in both hands, thrust it so completely into the right side of Jesus that the point went through the heart, and appeared on the left side. When Cassius drew his lance out of the wound a quantity of blood and water rushed from it, and flowed over his face and body. This species of washing produced effects somewhat similar to the vivifying waters of Baptism: grace and salvation at once entered his soul. He leaped from his horse, threw himself upon his knees, struck his breast, and confessed loudly before all his firm belief in the divinity of Jesus. The Blessed Virgin and her companions were still standing near, with their eyes fixed upon the Cross, but when Cassius thrust his lance into the side of Jesus they were much startled, and rushed with one accord up to it. Mary looked as if the lance had transfixed her heart instead of that of her Divine Son, and could scarcely support herself. Cassius meantime remained kneeling and thanking God, not only for the grace he had received but likewise for the cure of the complaint in his eyes, which had caused the weakness and the squint. This cure had been effected at the same moment that the darkness with which his soul was previously filled was removed. Every heart was overcome at the sight of the blood of our Lord, which ran into a hollow in the rock at the foot of the Cross. Mary, John, the holy women, and Cassius, gathered up the blood and water in flasks, and wiped up the remainder with pieces of linen.13 Cassius, whose sight was perfectly restored at the same moment that the eyes of his soul were opened, was deeply moved, and continued his humble prayer of thanksgiving. The soldiers were truck with astonishment at the miracle which had taken place, and cast themselves on their knees by his side, at the same time striking their breasts and confessing Jesus. The water and blood continued to flow from the large wound in the side of our Lord; it ran into the hollow in the rock, and the holy women put it in vases, while Mary and Magdalen mingled their tears. The archers, who had received a message from Pilate, ordering them not to touch the body of Jesus, did not return at all. All these events took place near the Cross, at a little before four o'clock, during the time that Joseph of Arimathea and Nicodemus were gathering together the articles necessary for the burial of Jesus. But the servants of Joseph having been sent to clean out the tomb, informed the friends of our Lord that their master intended to take the body of Jesus and place it in his new sepulchre. John immediately returned to the town with the holy women; in the first place, that Mary might recruit her strength a little, and in the second, to purchase a few things which would be required for the burial. The Blessed Virgin had a small lodging among the buildings near the Cenaculum. They did not re-enter the town through the gate which was the nearest to Calvary, because it was closed, and guarded by soldiers placed there by the Pharisees; but they went through that gate which leads to Bethlehem. CHAPTER XLIX. A Description of some Parts of ancient Jerusalem. This chapter will contain some descriptions of places given by Sister Emmerich on various occasions. They will be followed by a description of the tomb and garden of Joseph of Arimathea, that so we may have no need to interrupt the account of the burial of our Lord. The first gate which stood on the eastern side of Jerusalem, to the south of the south-east angle of the Temple, was the one leading to the suburb of Ophel. The gate of the sheep was to the north of the north-east angle of the Temple. Between these two gates there was a third, leading to some streets situated to the east of the Temple, and inhabited for the most part by stonemasons and other workmen. The houses in these streets were supported by the foundations of the Temple; and almost all belonged to Nicodemus, who had caused them to be built, and who employed nearly all the workmen living there. Nicodemus had not long before built a beautiful gate as an entrance to these streets, called the Gate of Moriah. It was but just finished, and through it Jesus had entered the town on Palm Sunday. Thus he entered by the new gate of Nicodemus, through which no one had yet passed, and was buried in the new monument of Joseph of Arimathea, in which no one had yet been laid. This gate was afterwards walled up, and there was a tradition that the Christians were once again to enter the town through it. Even in the present day, a walled-up gate, called by the Turks the Golden Gate, stands on this spot. The road leading to the west from the gate of the sheep passed almost exactly between the north-western side of Mount Sion and Calvary. From this gate to Golgotha the distance was about two miles and a quarter; and from Pilate's palace to Golgotha about two miles. The fortress Antonia was situated to the north-west of the mountain of the Temple, on a detached rock. A person going towards the west, on leaving Pilate's palace, would have had this fortress to his left. On one of its walls there was a platform commanding the forum, and from which Pilate was accustomed to make proclamations to the people: he did this, for instance, when he promulgated new laws. When our Divine Lord was carrying his Cross, in the interior of the town, Mount Calvary was frequently on his right hand. This road, which partly ran in a south-westerly direction, led to a gate made in an inner wall of the town, towards Sion. Beyond this wall, to the left, there was a sort of suburb, containing more gardens than houses; and towards the outer wall of the city stood some magnificent sepulchres with stone entrances. On this side was a house belonging to Lazarus, with beautiful gardens, extending towards that part where the outer western wall of Jerusalem turned to the south. I believe that a little private door, made in the city wall, and through which Jesus and his disciples often passed by permission of Lazarus, led to these gardens. The gate standing at the north-western angle of the town led to Bethsur, which was situated more towards the north than Emmaus and Joppa. The western part of Jerusalem was lower than any other: the land on which it was built first sloped in the direction of the surrounding wall, and then rose again when close to it; and on this declivity there stood gardens and vineyards, behind which wound a wide road, with paths leading to the walls and towers. On the other side, without the wall, the land descended towards the valley, so that the walls surrounding the lower part of the town looked as if built on a raised terrace. There are gardens and vineyards even in the present day on the outer hill. When Jesus arrived at the end of the Way of the Cross, he had on his left hand that part of the town where there were so many gardens; and it was from thence that Simon of Cyrene was coming when he met the procession. The gate by which Jesus left the town was not entirely facing the west, but rather the south-west. The city wall on the left-hand side, after passing through the gate, ran somewhat in a southerly direction, then turned towards the west, and then again to the south, round Mount Sion. On this side there stood a large tower, like a fortress. The gate by which Jesus left the town was at no great distance from another gate more towards the south, leading down to the valley, and where a road, turning to the left in the direction of Bethlehem, commenced. The road turned to the north towards Mount Calvary shortly after that gate by which Jesus left Jerusalem when bearing his Cross. Mount Calvary was very steep on its eastern side, facing the town, and a gradual descent on the western; and on this side, from which the road to Emmaus was to be seen, there was a field, in which I saw Luke gather several plants when he and Cleophas were going to Emmaus, and met Jesus on the way. Near the walls, to the east and south of Calvary, there were also gardens, sepulchres, and vineyards. The Cross was buried on the north-east side, at the foot of Mount Calvary. The garden of Joseph of Arimathea was situated near the gate of Bethlehem, at about a seven minutes' walk from Calvary: it was a very fine garden, with tall trees, banks, and thickets in it, which gave much shade, and was situated on a rising ground extending to the walls of the city.14 A person coming from the northern side of the valley, and entering the garden, had on his left hand a slight ascent extending as far as the city wall; and on his right, at the end of the garden, a detached rock, where the cave of the sepulchre was situated. The grotto in which it was made looked to the east; and on the south-western and north-western sides of the same rock were two other smaller sepulchres, which were also new, and with depressed fronts. A pathway, beginning on the western side of this rock, ran all round it. The ground in front of the sepulchre was higher than that of the entrance, and a person wishing to enter the cavern had to descend several steps. The cave was sufficiently large for four men to be able to stand close up to the wall on either side without impeding the movements of the bearers of the body. Opposite the door was a cavity in the rock, in which the tomb was made; it was about two feet above the level of the ground, and fastened to the rock by one side only, like an altar: two persons could stand, one at the head and one at the foot; and there was a place also for a third in front, even if the door of the cavity was closed. This door was made of some metal, perhaps of brass, and had two folding doors. These doors could be closed by a stone being rolled against them; and the stone used for this purpose was kept outside the cavern. Immediately after our Lord was placed in the sepulchre it was rolled in front of the door. It was very large, and could not be removed without the united effort of several men. Opposite the entrance of the cavern there stood a stone bench, and by mounting on this a person could climb on to the rock, which was covered with grass, and from whence the city walls, the highest parts of Mount Sion, and some towers could be seen, as well as the gate of Bethlehem and the fountain of Gihon. The rock inside was of a white colour, intersected with red and blue veins. CHAPTER L. The Descent from the Cross. At the time when everyone had left the neighbourhood of the Cross, and a few guards alone stood around it, I saw five persons, who I think were disciples, and who had come by the valley from Bethania, draw nigh to Calvary, gaze for a few moments upon the Cross, and then steal away. Three times I met in the vicinity two men who were making examinations and anxiously consulting together. These men were Joseph of Arimathea and Nicodemus. The first time was during the Crucifixion (perhaps when they caused the clothes of Jesus to be brought back from the soldiers), and they were then at no great distance from Calvary. The second was when, after standing to look whether the crowd was dispersing, they went to the town to make some preparations. The third was on their return from the tomb to the Cross, when they were looking around in every direction, as if waiting for a favourable moment, and then concerted together as to the manner in which they should take the body of our Lord down from the Cross, after which they returned to the town. Their next care was to make arrangements for carrying with them the necessary articles for embalming the body, and their servants took some tools with which to detach it from the Cross, as well as two ladders which they found in a barn close to Nicodemus's house. Each of these ladders consisted of a single pole, crossed at regular intervals by pieces of wood, which formed the steps. There were hooks which could be fastened on any part of the pole, and by means of which the ladder could be steadied, or on which, perhaps, anything required for the work could also be hung. The woman from whom they had bought their spices had packed the whole neatly together. Nicodemus had bought a hundred pounds' weight of roots, which quantity is equal to about thirty-seven pounds of our measure, as has been explained to me. They carried these spices in little barrels make of bark, which were hung round their necks, and rested on their breasts. One of these barrels contained some sort of powder. They had also some bundles of herbs in bags made of parchment or leather, and Joseph carried a box of ointment; but I do not know what this box was made of. The servants were to carry vases, leathern bottles, sponges, and tools, on a species of litter, and they likewise took fire with them in a closed lantern. They left the town before their master, and by a different gate (perhaps that of Bethania), and then turned their steps towards Mount Calvary. As they walked through the town they passed by the house where the Blessed Virgin; St. John, and the holy women had gone to seek different things required for embalming the body of Jesus, and John and the holy women followed the servants at a certain distance. The women were about five in number, and some of them carried large bundles of linen under their mantles. It was the custom for women, when they went out in the evening, or if intending to perform some work of piety secretly, to wrap their persons carefully in a long sheet at least a yard wide. They began by one arm, and then wound the linen so closely round their body that they could not walk without difficulty. I have seen them wrapped up in this manner, and the sheet not only extended to both arms, but likewise veiled the head. On the present occasion, the appearance of this dress was most striking in my eyes, for it was a real mourning garment. Joseph and Nicodemus were also in mourning attire, and wore black sleeves and wide sashes. Their cloaks, which they had drawn over their heads, were both wide and long, of a common grey colour, and served to conceal everything that they were carrying. They turned their steps in the direction of the gate leading to Mount Calvary. The streets were deserted and quiet, for terror kept everyone at home. The greatest number were beginning to repent, and but few were keeping the festival. When Joseph and Nicodemus reached the gate they found it closed, and the road, streets, and every corner lined with soldiers. These were the soldiers whom the Pharisees had asked for at about two o'clock, and whom they had kept under arms and on guard, as they still feared a tumult among the people. Joseph showed an order, signed by Pilate, to let them pass freely, and the soldiers were most willing that they should do so, but explained to him that they had endeavoured several times to open the gate, without being able to move it; that apparently the gate had received a shock, and been strained in some part; and that on this account the archers sent to break the legs of the thieves had been obliged to return to the city by another gate. But when Joseph and Nicodemus seized hold of the bolt, the gate opened as if of itself, to the great astonishment of all the bystanders. It was still dark and the sky cloudy when they reached Mount Calvary, where they found the servants who had been sent on already arrived, and the holy women sitting weeping in front of the Cross. Cassius and several soldiers who were converted remained at a certain distance, and their demeanour was respectful and reserved. Joseph and Nicodemus described to the Blessed Virgin and John all they had done to save Jesus from an ignominious death, and learned from them how they had succeeded in preventing the bones of our Lord from being broken, and how the prophecy had been fulfilled. They spoke also of the wound which Cassius had made with his lance. No sooner was the centurion Abenadar arrived than they began, with the deepest recollection of spirit, their mournful and sacred labour of taking down from the Cross and embalming the adorable body of our Lord. The Blessed Virgin and Magdalen were seated at the foot of the Cross; while, on the right-hand side, between the cross of Dismas and that of Jesus, the other women were engaged in preparing the linen, spices, water, sponges, and vases. Cassius also came forward, and related to Abenadar the miraculous cure of his eyes. All were deeply affected, and their hearts overflowing with sorrow and love; but, at the same time, they preserved a solemn silence, and their every movement was full of gravity and reverence. Nothing broke the stillness save an occasional smothered word of lamentation, or a stifled groan, which escaped from one or other of these holy personages, in spite of their earnest eagerness and deep attention to their pious labour. Magdalen gave way unrestrainedly to her sorrow, and neither the presence of so many different persons, nor any other consideration, appeared to distract her from it. Nicodemus and Joseph placed the ladders behind the Cross, and mounted them, holding in their hands a large sheet, to which three long straps were fastened. They tied the body of Jesus, below the arms and knees, to the tree of the Cross, and secured the arms by pieces of linen placed underneath the hands. Then they drew out the nails, by pushing them from behind with strong pins pressed upon the points. The sacred hands of Jesus were thus not much shaken, and the nails fell easily out of the wounds; for the latter had been made wider by the weight of the body, which, being now supported by the cloths, no longer hung on the nails. The lower part of the body, which since our Lord's death had sunk down on the knees, now rested in a natural position, supported by a sheet fastened above to the arms of the Cross. Whilst Joseph was taking out the nail from the left hand, and then allowing the left arm, supported by its cloth, to fall gently down upon the body, Nicodemus was fastening the right arm of Jesus to that of the Cross, as also the sacred crowned head, which had sunk on the right shoulder. Then he took out the right nail, and having surrounded the arm with its supporting sheet, let it fall gently on to the body. At the same time, the centurion Abenadar, with great difficulty, drew out the large nail which transfixed the feet. Cassius devoutly received the nails, and laid them at the feet of the Blessed Virgin. Then Joseph and Nicodemus, having placed ladders against the front of the Cross, in a very upright position, and close to the body, untied the upper strap, and fastened it to one of the hooks on the ladder; they did the same with the two other straps, and passing them all on from hook to hook, caused the sacred body to descend gently towards the centurion, who having mounted upon a stool received it in his arms, holding it below the knees; while Joseph and Nicodemus, supporting the upper part of the body, came gently down the ladder, stopping at every step, and taking every imaginable precaution, as would be done by men bearing the body of some beloved friend who had been grievously wounded. Thus did the bruised body of our Divine Saviour reach the ground. It was a most touching sight. They all took the same precautions, the same care, as if they had feared to cause Jesus some suffering. They seemed to have concentrated on the sacred body all the love and veneration which they had felt for their Saviour during his life. The eyes of each were fixed upon the adorable body, and followed all its movements; and they were continually uplifting their hands towards Heaven, shedding tears, and expressing in every possible way the excess of their grief and anguish. Yet they all remained perfectly calm, and even those who were so busily occupied about the sacred body broke silence but seldom, and, when obliged to make some necessary remark, did so in a low voice. During the time that the nails were being forcible removed by blows of the hammer, the Blessed Virgin, Magdalen; and all those who had been present at the Crucifixion, felt each blow transfix their hearts. The sound recalled to their minds all the sufferings of Jesus, and they could not control their trembling fear, lest they should again hear his piercing cry of suffering; although, at the same time they grieved at the silence of his blessed lips, which proved, alas too surely, that he was really dead. When the body was taken down it was wrapped in linen from the knees to the waist, and then placed in the arms of the Blessed Virgin, who, overwhelmed with sorrow and love, stretched them forth to receive their precious burden. CHAPTER LI. The Embalming of the Body of Jesus. The Blessed Virgin seated herself upon a large cloth spread on the ground, with her right knee, which was slightly raised, and her back resting against some mantles, rolled together so as to from a species of cushion. No precaution had been neglected which could in any way facilitate to her--the Mother of Sorrows--in her deep affliction of soul, the mournful but most sacred duty which she was about to fulfil in regard to the body of her beloved Son. The adorable head of Jesus rested upon Mary's knee, and his body was stretched upon a sheet. The Blessed Virgin was overwhelmed with sorrow and love. Once more, and for the last time, did she hold in her arms the body of her most beloved Son, to whom she had been unable to give any testimony of love during the long hours of his martyrdom. And she gazed upon his wounds and fondly embraced his blood-stained cheeks, while Magdalen pressed her face upon his feet. The men withdrew into a little cave, situated on the south-west side of Calvary, there to prepare the different things needful for the embalming; but Cassius, with a few other soldiers who had been converted, remained at a respectful distance. All ill-disposed persons were gone back to the city, and the soldiers who were present served merely to form a guard to prevent any interruption in the last honours which were being rendered to the body of Jesus. Some of these soldiers even gave assistance when desired. The holy women held the vases, sponges, linen, unction, and spices, according as required; but when not thus employed, they remained at a respectful distance, attentively gazing upon the Blessed Virgin as she proceeded in her mournful task. Magdalen did not leave the body of Jesus; but John gave continual assistance to the Blessed Virgin, and went to and fro from the men to the women, lending aid to both parties. The women had with them some large leathern bottles and a vase filled with water standing upon a coal fire. They gave the Blessed Virgin and Magdalen, according as they required, vases filled with clear water, and sponges, which they afterwards squeezed in the leathern bottles. The courage and firmness of Mary remained unshaken even in the midst of her inexpressible anguish.15 It was absolutely impossible for her to leave the body of her Son in the awful state to which it had been reduced by his sufferings, and therefore she began with indefatigable earnestness to wash and purify it from the traces of the outrages to which it had been exposed. With the utmost care she drew off the crown of thorns, opening it behind, and then cutting off one by one the thorns which had sunk deep into the head of Jesus, in order that she might not widen the wounds. The crown was placed by the side of the nails, and then Mary drew out the thorns which had remained in the skin with a species of rounded pincers, and sorrowfully showed them to her friends.16 These thorns were placed with the crown, but still some of them must have been preserved separately. The divine face of our Saviour was scarcely recognisable, so disfigured was it by the wounds with which it was covered. The beard and hair were matted together with blood. Mary washed the head and face, and passed damp sponges over the hair to remove the congealed blood. As she proceeded in her pious office, the extent of the awful cruelty which had been exercised upon Jesus became more and more apparent, and caused in her soul emotions of compassion and tenderness which increased as she passed from one wound to another. She washed the wounds of the head, the eyes filled with blood, the nostrils, and the ears, with a sponge and a small piece of linen spread over the fingers of her right hand; and then she purified, in the same manner, the half-opened mouth, the tongue, the teeth, and the lips. She divided what remained of our Lord's hair into three parts, a part falling over each temple, and the third over the back of his head; and when she had disentangled the front hair and smoothed it, she passed it behind his ears.17 When the head was thoroughly cleansed and purified, the Blessed Virgin covered it with a veil, after having kissed the sacred cheeks of her dear Son. She then turned her attention to the neck, shoulders, chest, back, arms, and pierced hands. All the bones of the breast and the joints were dislocated, and could not be bent. There was a frightful wound on the shoulders which had borne the weight of the Cross, and all the upper part of the body was covered with bruises and deeply marked with blows of the scourges. On the left breast there was a small wound where the point of Cassius's lance had come out, and on the right side was the large wound made by the same lance, and which had pierced the heart through and through. Mary washed all these wounds, and Magdalen, on her knees, helped her from time to time; but without leaving the sacred feet of Jesus, which she bathed with tears and wiped with her hair. The head, bosom, and feet of our Lord were now washed, and the sacred body, which was covered with brown stains and red marks in those places where the skin had been torn off, and of a bluish-white colour, like flesh that has been drained of blood, was resting on the knees of Mary, who covered the parts which she had washed with a veil, and then proceeded to embalm all the wounds. The holy women knelt by her side, and in turn presented to her a box, out of which she took some precious ointment, and with it filled and covered the wounds. She also anointed the hair, and then, taking the sacred hands of Jesus in her left hand, respectfully kissed them, and filled the large wounds made by the nails with this ointment or sweet spice. She likewise filled the ears, nostrils, and wound in the side with the same precious mixture. Meanwhile Magdalen wiped and embalmed our Lord's feet, and then again washed them with her tears, and often pressed her face upon them. The water which had been used was not thrown away, but poured into the leathern bottles in which the sponges had been squeezed. I saw Cassius or some other soldier go several times to fetch fresh water from the fountain of Gihon, which was at no great distance off. When the Blessed Virgin had filled all the wounds with ointment, she wrapped the head up in linen cloths, but she did not as yet cover the face. She closed the half-open eyes of Jesus, and kept her hand upon them for some time. She also closed the mouth, and then embraced the sacred body of her beloved Son, pressing her face fondly and reverently upon his. Joseph and Nicodemus had been waiting for some time, when John drew near to the Blessed Virgin, and besought her to permit the body of her Son to be taken from her, that the embalming might be completed, because the Sabbath was close at hand. Once more did Mary embrace the sacred body of Jesus, and utter her farewells in the most touching language, and then the men lifted it from her arms on the sheet, and carried it to some distance. The deep sorrow of Mary had been for the time assuaged by the feelings of love and reverence with which she had accomplished her sacred task; but now it once more overwhelmed her, and she fell, her head covered with her veil, into the arms of the holy women. Magdalen felt almost as though her Beloved were being forcibly carried away from her, and hastily ran forward a few steps, with her arms stretched forth; but then, after a moment, returned to the Blessed Virgin. The sacred body was carried to a spot beneath the level of the top of Golgotha, where the smooth surface of a rock afforded a convenient platform on which to embalm the body. I first saw a piece of open-worked linen, looking very much like lace, and which made me think of the large embroidered curtain hung between the choir and nave during Lent.18 It was probably worked in that open stitch for the water to run through. I also saw another large sheet unfolded. The body of our Saviour was placed on the open-worked piece of linen, and some of the other men held the other sheet spread above it. Nicodemus and Joseph then knelt down, and underneath this covering took off the linen which they had fastened round the loins of our Saviour, when they took his body down from the Cross. They then passed sponges under this sheet, and washed the lower parts of the body; after which they lifted it up by the help of pieces of linen crossed beneath the loins and knees, and washed the back without turning it over. They continued washing until nothing but clear water came from the sponges when pressed. Next they poured water of myrrh over the whole body, and then, handling it with respect, stretched it out full length, for it was still in the position in which our Divine Lord had died--the loins and knees bent. They then placed beneath his hips a sheet which was a yard in width and three in length, laid upon his lap bundles of sweet-scented herbs, and shook over the whole body a powder which Nicodemus had brought. Next they wrapped up the lower part of the body, and fastened the cloth which they had placed underneath round it strongly. After this they anointed the wounds of the thighs, placed bundles of herbs between the legs, which were stretched out to their full length, and wrapped them up entirely in these sweet spices. Then John conducted the Blessed Virgin and the other holy women once more to the side of the body. Mary knelt down by the head of Jesus, and placed beneath it a piece of very fine linen which had been given her by Pilate's wife, and which she had worn round her neck under her cloak; next, assisted by the holy women, she placed from the shoulders to the cheeks bundles of herbs, spices, and sweet-scented powder, and then strongly bound this piece of linen round the head and shoulders. Magdalen poured besides a small bottle of balm into the wound of the side, and the holy women placed some more herbs into those of the hands and feet. Then the men put sweet spices around all the remainder of the body, crossed the sacred stiffened arms on the chest, and bound the large white sheet round the body as high as the chest, in the same manner as if they had been swaddling a child. Then, having fastened the end of a large band beneath the armpits, they rolled it round the head and the whole body. Finally, they placed our Divine Lord on the large sheet, six yards in length, which Joseph of Arimathea had bought, and wrapped him in it. He was lying diagonally upon it, and one corner of the sheet was raised from the feet to the chest, the other drawn over the head and shoulders, while the remaining two ends were doubled round the body. The Blessed Virgin, the holy women, the men--all were kneeling round the body of Jesus to take their farewell of it, when a most touching miracle took place before them. The sacred body of Jesus, with all its wounds, appeared imprinted upon the cloth which covered it, as though he had been pleased to reward their care and their love, and leave them a portrait of himself through all the veils with which he was enwrapped. With tears they embraced the adorable body, and then reverently kissed the wonderful impression which it had left. Their astonishment increased when, on lifting up the sheet, they saw that all the bands which surrounded the body had remained white as before, and that the upper cloth alone had been marked in this wonderful manner. It was not a mark made by the bleeding wounds, since the whole body was wrapped up and covered with sweet spices, but it was a supernatural portrait, bearing testimony to the divine creative power ever abiding in the body of Jesus. I have seen many things relative to the subsequent history of this piece of linen, but I could not describe them coherently. After the resurrection it remained in the possession of the friends of Jesus, but fell twice into the hands of the Jews, and later was honoured in several different places. I have seen it in a city of Asia, in the possession of some Christians, who were not Catholics. I have forgotten the name of the town, which is situated in a province near the country of the Three Kings. CHAPTER LII. The Body of our Lord placed in the Sepulchre. The men placed the sacred body on a species of leathern hand-barrow, which they covered wit a brown-coloured cloth, and to which they fastened two long stakes. This forcibly reminded me of the Ark of the Covenant. Nicodemus and Joseph bore on their shoulders the front shafts, while Abenadar and John supported those behind. After them came the Blessed Virgin, Mary of Heli, her eldest sister, Magdalen and Mary of Cleophas, and then the group of women who had been sitting at some distance--Veronica, Johanna Chusa, Mary Salome, Salome of Jerusalem, Susanna, and Anne the niece of St. Joseph. Cassius and the soldiers closed the procession. The other women, such as Marone of Naim, Dina the Samaritaness, and Mara the Suphanitess, were at Bethania, with Martha and Lazarus. Two soldiers, bearing torches in their hands, walked on first, that there might be some light in the grotto of the sepulchre; and the procession continued to advance in this order for about seven minutes, the holy men and women singing psalms in sweet but melancholy tones. I saw James the Greater, the brother of John, standing upon a hill the other side of the valley, to look at them as they passed, and he returned immediately afterwards, to tell the other disciples what he had seen. The procession stopped at the entrance of Joseph's garden, which was opened by the removal of some stakes, afterwards used as levers to roll the stone to the door of the sepulchre. When opposite the rock, they placed the Sacred Body on a long board covered with a sheet. The grotto, which had been newly excavated, had been latterly cleaned by the servants of Nicodemus, so that the interior was neat and pleasing to the eye. The holy women sat down in front of the grotto, while the four men carried in the body of our Lord, partially filled the hollow couch destined for its reception with aromatic spices, and spread over them a cloth, upon which they reverently deposited the sacred body. After having once more given expression to their love by tears and fond embraces, they left the grotto. Then the Blessed Virgin entered, seated herself close to the head of her dear Son, and bent over his body with many tears. When she left the grotto, Magdalen hastily and eagerly came forward, and flung on the body some flowers and branches which she had gathered in the garden. Then she clasped her hands together, and with sobs kissed the feet of Jesus; but the men having informed her that they must close the sepulchre, she returned to the other women. They covered the sacred body with the extremities of the sheet on which it was lying, placed on the top of all the brown coverlet, and closed the folding-doors, which were made of a bronze-coloured metal, and had on their front two sticks, one straight down and the other across, so as to form a perfect cross. The large stone with which they intended to close the sepulchre, and which was still lying in front of the grotto, was in shape very like a chest or tomb;19 its length was such that a man might have laid himself down upon it, and it was so heavy that it was only by means of levers that the men could roll it before the door of the sepulchre. The entrance of the grotto was closed by a gate made of branches twined together. Everything that was done within the grotto had to be accomplished by torchlight, for daylight never penetrated there. CHAPTER LIII. The Return from the Sepulchre. Joseph of Arimathea is put in Prison. The Sabbath was close at hand, and Nicodemus and Joseph returned to Jerusalem by a small door not far from the garden, and which Joseph had been allowed by special favour to have made in the city wall. They told the Blessed Virgin, Magdalen, John, and some of the women, who were returning to Calvary to pray there, that this door, as well as that of the super-room, would be opened to them whenever they knocked. The elder sister of the Blessed Virgin, Mary of Heli, returned to the town with Mary the mother of Mark, and some other women. The servants of Nicodemus and Joseph went to Calvary to fetch several things which had been left there. The soldiers joined those who were guarding the city gate near Calvary; and Cassius went to Pilate with the lance, related all that he had seen, and promised to give him an exact account of everything that should happen, if he would put under his command the guards whom the Jews would not fail to ask to have put round the tomb. Pilate listened to his words with secret terror, but only told him in reply that his superstition amounted to madness. Joseph and Nicodemus met Peter and the two Jameses in the town. They all shed many tears, but Peter was perfectly overwhelmed by the violence of this grief. He embraced them, reproached himself for not having been present at the death of our Saviour, and thanked them for having bestowed the rites of sepulture upon his sacred body. It was agreed that the door of the supper-room should be opened to them whenever they knocked, and then they went away to seek some other disciples who were dispersed in various directions. Later I saw the Blessed Virgin and her companions enter the upper-room; Abenadar next came and was admitted; and by degrees the greatest part of the Apostles and disciples assembled there. The holy women retired to that part of the building where the Blessed Virgin was living. They took some food, and spent a few minutes more in tears, and in relating to one another what each had seen. Then men changed their dresses, and I saw them standing under the lamp, and keeping the Sabbath. They ate some lambs in the supper-room, but without observing any ceremony, for they had eaten the Paschal lamb the evening before. They were all perturbed in spirit, and filled with grief. The holy women also passed their time in praying with the Blessed Virgin under the lamp. Later, when night had quite fallen, Lazarus, the widow of Naim, Dina the Samaritan woman, and Mara of Suphan, came from Bethania, and then, once more, descriptions were given of all that had taken place, and many tears shed. [According to the visions of Sister Emmerich, the three women named in the text had been living for some time at Bethania, in a sort of community established by Martha for the purpose of providing for the maintenance of the disciples when our Lord was moving about, and for the division and distribution of the alms which were collected. The widow of Naim, whose son Martial was raised from the dead by Jesus, according to Sister Emmerich, on the 28th Marcheswan (the 18th of November), was named Maroni. She was the daughter of an uncle, on the father's side, of St. Peter. Her first husband was the son of a sister of Elizabeth, who herself was the daughter of a sister of the mother of St. Anne. Maroni's first husband having died without children, she had married Elind, a relation of St. Anne, and had left Chasaluth, near Tabor, to take up her abode at Naim, which was not far off, and where she soon lost her second husband. Dina, the Samaritan woman, was the same who conversed with Jesus by Jacob's well. She was born near Damascus, of parents who were half Jewish and half Pagan. They died while she was yet very young, and she being brought up by a woman of bad character, the seeds of the most evil passions were early sown in her heart. She had had several husbands, who supplanted one another in turn, and the last lived at Sichar, whither she had followed him and changed her name from Dina to Salome. She had three grown-up daughters and two sons, who afterwards joined the disciples. Sister Emmerich used to say that the life of this Samaritan woman was prophetic--that Jesus had spoken to the entire sect of Samaritans in her person, and that they were attached to their errors by as many ties as she had committed adulteries. Mara of Suphan was a Moabitess, came from the neighbourhood of Suphan, and was a descendant of Orpha, the widow of Chelion, Noemi's son. Orpha had married again in Moab. By Orpha, the sister-in-law of Ruth, Mara was connected with the family of David, from whom our Lord was descended. Sister Emmerich saw Jesus deliver Mara from four devils and grant her forgiveness of her sins on the 17th Elud (9th September) of the second year of his public life. She was living at Ainon, having been repudiated by her husband, a rich Jew, who had kept the children he had had by her with him. She had with her tree others, the offspring of her adulteries. 'I saw,' Sister Emmerich would say,--'I saw how the stray branch of the stock of David was purified within her by the grace of Jesus, and admitted into the bosom of the Church. I cannot express how many of these roots and offshoots I see become entwined with each other, lost to view, and then once more brought to light.'] Joseph of Arimathea returned home late from the supper-room, and he was sorrowfully walking along the streets of Sion, accompanied by a few disciples and women, when all on a sudden a band of armed men, who were lying in ambuscade in the neighbourhood of Caiphas's tribunal, fell upon them, and laid hands upon Joseph, whereupon his companions fled, uttering loud cries of terror. He was confined in a tower contiguous to the city wall, not far from the tribunal. These soldiers were pagans, and had not to keep the Sabbath, therefore Caiphas had been able to secure their services on this occasion. The intention was to let Joseph die of hunger, and keep his disappearance a secret. Here conclude the descriptions of all that occurred on the day of the Passion of our Lord; but we will add some supplementary matter concerning Holy Saturday, the Descent into Hell, and the Resurrection. CHAPTER LIV. On the Name of Calvary. Whilst meditating on the name of Golgotha, Calvary, the place of skulls, borne by the rock upon which Jesus was crucified, I became deeply absorbed in contemplation, and beheld in spirit all ages from the time of Adam to that of Christ, and in this vision the origin of the name was made known to me. I here give all that I remember on this subject. I saw Adam, after his expulsion from Paradise, weeping in the grotto where Jesus sweated blood and water, on Mount Olivet. I saw how Seth was promised to Eve in the grotto of the manger at Bethlehem, and how she brought him forth in that same grotto. I also saw Eve living in some caverns near Hebron, where the Essenian Monastery of Maspha was afterwards established. I then beheld the country where Jerusalem was built, as it appeared after the Deluge, and the land was all unsettled, black, stony, and very different from what it had been before. At an immense dept below the rock which constitutes Mount Calvary (which was formed in this spot by the rolling of the waters), I saw the tomb of Adam and Eve. The head and one rib were wanting to one of the skeletons, and the remaining head was placed within the same skeleton, to which it did not belong. The bones of Adam and Eve had not all been left in this grave, for Noah had some of them with him in the ark, and they were transmitted from generation to generation by the Patriarchs. Noah, and also Abraham, were in the habit, when offering sacrifice, of always laying some of Adam's bones upon the altar, to remind the Almighty of his promise. When Jacob gave Joseph his variegated robe, he at the same time gave him some bones of Adam, to be kept as relics. Joseph always wore them on his bosom, and they were placed with his own bones in the first reliquary which the children of Israel brought out of Egypt. I have seen similar things, but some I have forgotten, and the others time fails me to describe. As regards the origin of the name of Calvary, I here give all I know. I beheld the mountain which bears this name as it was in the time of the Prophet Eliseus. It was not the same then as at the time of our Lord's Crucifixion, but was a hill, with many walls and caverns, resembling tombs, upon it. I saw the Prophet Eliseus descend into these caverns, I cannot say whether in reality or only in a vision, and I saw him take out a skull from a stone sepulchre in which bones were resting. Someone who was by his side--I think an angel--said to him, 'This is the skull of Adam.' The prophet was desirous to take it away, but his companion forbade him. I saw upon the skull some few hairs of a fair colour. I learned also that the prophet having related what had happened to him, the spot received the name of Calvary. Finally, I saw that the Cross of Jesus was placed vertically over the skull of Adam. I was informed that this spot was the exact centre of the earth; and at the same time I was shown the numbers and measures proper to every country, but I have forgotten them, individually as well as in general. Yet I have seen this centre from above, and as it were from a bird's-eye view. In that way a person sees far more clearly than on a map all the different countries, mountains, deserts, seas, rivers, towns, and even the smallest places, whether distant or near at hand. CHAPTER LV. The Cross and the Winepress. As I was meditating upon these words or thoughts of Jesus when hanging on the Cross: 'I am pressed like wine placed here under the press for the first time; my blood must continue to flow until water comes, but wine shall no more be made here,' an explanation was given me by means of another vision relating to Calvary. I saw this rocky country at a period anterior to the Deluge; it was then less wild and less barren than it afterwards became, and was laid out in vineyards and fields. I saw there the Patriarch Japhet, a majestic dark-complexioned old man, surrounded by immense flocks and herds and a numerous posterity: his children as well as himself had dwellings excavated in the ground, and covered with turf roofs, on which herbs and flowers were growing. There were vines all around, and a new method of making wine was being tried on Calvary, in the presence of Japhet. I saw also the ancient method of preparing wine, but I can give only the following description of it. At first men were satisfied with only eating the grapes; then they pressed them with pestles in hollow stones, and finally in large wooden trenches. Upon this occasion a new wine-press, resembling the holy Cross in shape, had been devised; it consisted of the hollow trunk of a tree placed upright, with a bag of grapes suspended over it. Upon this bag there was fastened a pestle, surmounted by a weight; and on both sides of the trunk were arms joined to the bag, through openings made for the purpose, and which, when put in motion by lowering the ends, crushed the grapes. The juice flowed out of the tree by five openings, and fell into a stone vat, from whence it flowed through a channel made of bark and coated with resin, into the species of cistern excavated in the rock where Jesus was confined before his Crucifixion. At the foot of the winepress, in the stone vat, there was a sort of sieve to stop the skins, which were put on one side. When they had made their winepress, they filled the bag with grapes, nailed it to the top of the trunk, placed the pestle, and put in motion the side arms, in order to make the wine flow. All this very strongly reminded me of the Crucifixion, on account of the resemblance between the winepress and the Cross. They had a long reed, at the end of which there were points, so that it looked like an enormous thistle, and they ran this through the channel and trunk of the tree when there was any obstruction. I was reminded of the lance and sponge. There were also some leathern bottles, and vases made of bark and plastered with resin. I saw several young men, with nothing but a cloth wrapped round their loins like Jesus, working at this winepress. Japhet was very old; he wore a long beard, and a dress made of the skins of beasts; and he looked at the new winepress with evident satisfaction. It was a festival day, and they sacrificed on a stone altar some animals which were running loose in the vineyard, young asses, goats, and sheep. It was not in this place that Abraham came to sacrifice Isaac; perhaps it was on Mount Moriah. I have forgotten many of the instructions regarding the wine, vinegar, and skins, and the different ways in which everything was to be distributed to the right and to the left; and I regret it, because the veriest trifles in these matters have a profound symbolical meaning. If it should be the will of God for me to make them known, he will show them to me again. CHAPTER LVI. Apparitions on Occasion of the Death of Jesus. Among the dead who rose from their graves, and who were certainly a hundred in number, at Jerusalem, there were no relations of Jesus. I saw in various parts of the Holy Land others of the dead appear and bear testimony to the divinity of Jesus. Thus I saw Sadoch, a most pious man, who had given all his property to the poor and to the Temple, appear to many persons in the neighbourhood of Hebron. This Sadoch had lived a century before Jesus, and was the founder of a community of Essenians: he had ardently sighed for the coming of the Messias, and had had several revelations upon the subject. I saw some others of the dead appear to the hidden disciples of our Lord, and give them different warnings. Terror and desolation reigned even in the most distant parts of Palestine, and it was not in Jerusalem only that frightful prodigies took place. At Thirza, the towers of the prison in which the captives delivered by Jesus had been confined fell down. In Galilee, where Jesus had travelled so much, I saw many buildings, and in particular the houses of those Pharisees who had been the foremost in persecuting our Saviour, and who were then all at the festival, shaken to the ground, crushing their wives and children. Numerous accidents happened in the neighbourhood of the Lake of Genazareth. Many buildings fell down at Capharnaum; and the wall of rocks which was in front of the beautiful garden of the centurion Zorobabel cracked across. The lake overflowed into the valley, and its waters descended as far as Capharnaum, which was a mile and a half distant. Peter's house, and the dwelling of the Blessed Virgin in front of the town, remained standing. The lake was strongly convulsed; its shores crumbled in several places, and its shape was very much altered, and became more like what it is at the present day. Great changes took place, particularly at the south-eastern extremity, near Tarichea, because in this part there was a long causeway made of stones, between the lake and a sort of marsh, which gave a constant direction to the course of the Jordan when it left the lake. The whole of this causeway was destroyed by the earthquake. Many accidents happened on the eastern side of the lake, on the spot where the swine belonging to the inhabitants of Gergesa cast themselves in, and also at Gergesa, Gerasa, and in the entire district of Chorazin. The mountain where the second multiplication of the loaves took place was shaken, and the stone upon which the miracle had been worked split in two. In Decapolis, whole towns crumbled to the earth; and in Asia, in several localities, the earthquake was severely felt, particularly to the east and north-east of Paneas. In Upper Galilee, many Pharisees found their houses in ruins when they returned from keeping the feast. A number of them, while yet at Jerusalem, received the news of what had happened, and it was on that account that the enemies of Jesus made such very slight efforts against the Christian community at Pentecost. A part of the Temple of Garizim crumbled down. An idol stood there above a fountain, in a small temple, the roof of which fell into the fountain with the idol. Half of the synagogue of Nazareth, out of which Jesus had been drive, fell down, as well as that part of the mountain from which his enemies had endeavoured to precipitate him. The bed of the Jordan was much changed by all these shocks, and its course altered in many places. At Macherus, and at the other towns belonging to Herod, everything remained quiet, for that country was out of the sphere of repentance and of threats, like those men who did not fall to the ground in the Garden of Olives, and, consequently, did not rise again. In many other parts where there were evil spirits, I saw the latter disappear in large bodies amid the falling mountains and buildings. The earthquakes reminded me of the convulsions of the possessed, when the enemy feels that he must take to flight. At Gergesa, a part of the mountain from which the devils had cast themselves with the swine into a marsh, fell into this same marsh; and I then saw a band of evil spirits cast themselves into the abyss, like a dark cloud. It was at Nice, unless I am mistaken, that I saw a singular occurrence, of which I have only an imperfect remembrance. There was a port there with many vessels in it; and near this port stood a house with a high tower, in which I saw a pagan whose office was to watch these vessels. He had often to ascend this tower, and see what was going on at sea. Having heard a great noise over the vessels in the port, he hurriedly ascended the tower to discover what was taking place, and he saw several dark figures hovering over the port, and who exclaimed to him in plaintive accents: 'If thou desirest to preserve the vessels, cause them to be sailed out of this port, for we must return to the abyss: the great Pan is dead.' They told him several other things; laid injunctions upon him to make known what they were then telling him upon his return from a certain voyage which he was soon to make, and to give a good reception to the messengers who would come to announce the doctrine of him who had just died. The evil spirits were forced in this manner by the power of God to inform this good man of their defeat, and announce it to the world. He had the vessels put in safety, and then an awful storm arose: the devils cast themselves howling into the sea, and half the city fell down. His house remained standing. Soon afterwards he went on a great journey, and announced the death of the great Pan, if that is the name by which our Saviour had been called. Later he came to Rome, where much amazement was caused by what he related. His name was something like Thamus or Thramus. CHAPTER LVII. Guards are placed around the Tomb of Jesus. Late on Friday night, I saw Caiphas and some of the chief men among the Jews holding a consultation concerning the best course to pursue with regard to the prodigies which had taken place, and the effect they had had upon the people. They continued their deliberations quite into the morning, and then hurried to Pilate's house, to tell him that, as that seducer said, while he was yet alive, 'After three days I will rise again,' it would be right to command the sepulchre to be guarded until the third day, as otherwise his disciples might come and steal him away, and say to the people, 'He is risen from the dead,' and the last error would be worse that the first. Pilate was determined to have nothing more to do with the business, and he only answered: 'You have a guard; go, guard it as you know.' However, he appointed Cassius to keep a watch over all that took place, and give him an exact account of every circumstance. I saw these men, twelve in number, leave the town before sunrise, accompanied by some soldiers who did not wear the Roman uniform, being attached to the Temple. They carried lanterns fastened to the end of long poles, in order that they might be able to see every surrounding object, in spite of the darkness of the night, and also that they might have some light in the dark cave of the sepulchre. No sooner had they reached the sepulchre than, having first seen with their own eyes that the body of Jesus was really there, they fastened one rope across the door of the tomb, and a second across the great stone which was placed in front, sealing the whole with a seal of half-circular shape. They then returned to the city, and the guards stationed themselves opposite the outer door. They were five or six in number, and watched three and three alternately. Cassius never left his post, and usually remained sitting or standing in front of the entrance to the cave, so as to see that side of the tomb where the feet of our Lord rested. He had received many interior graces, and been given to understand many mysteries. Being wholly unaccustomed to this state of spiritual enlightenment, he was perfectly transported out of himself, and remained nearly all the time unconscious of the presence of exterior things. He was entirely changed, had become a new man, and spent the whole day in penance, in making fervent acts of gratitude, and in humbly adoring God. CHAPTER LVIII. A Glance at the Disciples of Jesus on Holy Saturday. The faithful disciples of our Lord assembled together in the Cenaculum, to keep the eve of the Sabbath. They were about twenty in number, clothed in long white dresses, and with their waists girded. The room was lighted up by a lamp; and after their repast they separated, and for the most part returned home. They again assembled on the following morning, and sat together reading and praying by turns; and if a friend entered the room, they arose and saluted him cordially. In that part of the house inhabited by the Blessed Virgin there was a large room, divided into small compartments like cells, which were used by the holy women for sleeping in at night. When they returned from the sepulchre, one of their number lighted a lamp which was hanging in the middle of the room, and they all assembled around the Blessed Virgin, and commenced praying in a mournful but recollected manner. A short time afterwards, Martha, Maroni, Dina, and Mara, who were just come with Lazarus from Bethania, where they had passed the Sabbath, entered the room. The Blessed Virgin and her companions gave them a detailed account of the death and burial of our Lord, accompanying each relation with many tears. The evening was advancing, and Joseph of Arimathea came in with a few other disciples, to ask whether any of the women wished to return to their homes, as they were ready to escort them. A few accepted the proposition, and set off immediately; but before they reached the tribunal of Caiphas, some armed men stopped Joseph of Arimathea, arrested, and shut him up in an old deserted turret. Those among the holy women who did not leave the Cenaculum retired to take their rest in the cell-like compartments spoken of above: they fastened long veils over their heads, seated themselves sorrowfully on the floor, and leaned upon the couches which were placed against the wall. After a time they stood up, spread out the bedclothes which were rolled up on the couches, took off their sandals, girdles, and a part of their clothing, and reclined for a time in order to endeavour to get a little sleep. At midnight, they arose, clothed themselves, put up their beds, and reassembled around the lamp to continue their prayer with the Blessed Virgin. When the Mother of Jesus and her pious companions had finished their nocturnal prayer (that holy duty which has been practised by all faithful children of God and holy souls, who have either felt themselves called to it by a special grace, or who follow a rule given by God and his Church), they heard a knock at the door, which was instantly opened, and John and some of the disciples who had promised to conduct them to the Temple, entered, upon which the women wrapped their cloaks about them, and started instantly. It was then about three in the morning, and they went straight to the Temple, it being customary among many Jews to get there before day dawned, on the day after they had eaten the Paschal lamb; and for this reason the Temple was open from midnight, as the sacrifices commenced very early. They started at about the same hour as that at which the priests had put their seal upon the sepulchre. The aspect of things in the Temple was, however, very different from what was usually the case at such times, for the sacrifices were stopped, and the place was empty and desolate, as everyone had left on account of the events on the previous day which had rendered it impure. The Blessed Virgin appeared to me to visit it for the sole purpose of taking leave of the place where she had passed her youth. The Temple was, however, open; the lamps lighted, and the people at liberty to enter the vestibule of the priests, which was the customary privilege of this day, as well as of that which followed the Paschal supper. The Temple was, as I said before, quite empty, with the exception of a chance priest or server who might be seen wandering about; and every part bore the marks of the confusion into which all was thrown on the previous day by the extraordinary and frightful events that had taken place; besides which it had been defiled by the presence of the dead, and I reflected and wondered in my own mind whether it would be possible ever to purify if again. The sons of Simeon, and the nephew of Joseph of Arimathea, were much grieved when they heard of the arrest of their uncle, but they welcomed the Blessed Virgin and her companions, and conducted them all over the Temple, which they did without difficulty, as they held the offices of inspectors of the Temple. The holy women stood in silence and contemplated all the terrible and visible marks of the anger of God with feelings of deep awe, and then listened with interest to the many stupendous details recounted by their guides. The effects of the earthquake were still visible, as little had been done towards repairing the numerous rents and cracks in the floor, and in the walls. In that part of the Temple where the vestibule joined the sanctuary, the wall was so tremendously shaken by the shock of the earthquake, as to produce a fissure wide enough for a person to walk through, and the rest of the wall looked unsteady, as if it might fall down at any moment. The curtain which hung in the sanctuary was rent in two and hung in shreds at the sides; nothing was to be seen around but crumbled walls, crushed flagstones, and columns either partly or quite shaken down. The Blessed Virgin visited all those parts which Jesus had rendered sacred in her eyes; she prostrated, kissed them, and with tears in her eyes explained to the others her reasons for venerating each particular spot, whereupon they instantly followed her example. The greatest veneration was always shown by the Jews for all places which had been rendered sacred by manifestations of the Divine power, and it was customary to place the hands reverently on such places, to kiss them, and to prostrate to the very earth before them. I do not think there was anything in the least surprising in such a custom, for they both knew, saw, end felt that the God of Abraham, of Isaac, and of Jacob, was a living God, and that his dwelling among his people was in the Temple at Jerusalem; consequently it would have been infinitely more astonishing if they had not venerated those holy parts where his power had been particularly demonstrated, for the Temple and the holy places were to them what the Blessed Sacrament is to Christians. Deeply penetrated with these feelings of respect, the Blessed Virgin walked trough the Temple with her companions, and pointed out to them the spot where she was presented when still a child, the parts where she passed her childhood, the place where she was affianced to St. Joseph, and the spot where she stood when she presented Jesus and heard the prophecy of Simeon: the remembrance of his words made her weep bitterly, for the prophecy was indeed fulfilled, and the sword of grief had indeed transfixed her heart; she again stopped her companions when she reached the part of the Temple where she found Jesus teaching when she lost him at the age of twelve, and she respectfully kissed the ground on which he then stood. When the holy women had looked at every place sanctified by the presence of Jesus, when they had wept and prayed over them, they returned to Sion. The Blessed Virgin did not leave the Temple without shedding many tears, as she contemplated the state of desolation to which it was reduced, an aspect of desolation which was rendered still more depressing by the marked contrast it bore to the usual state of the Temple on the festival day. Instead of songs and hymns of jubilee, a mournful silence reigned throughout the vast edifice, and in place of groups of joyful and devout worshippers, the eye wandered over a vast and dreary solitude. Too truly, alas, did this change betoken the fearful crime which had been perpetrated by the people of God, and she remembered how Jesus had wept over the Temple, and said, 'Destroy the Temple and in three days I will build it up again.' She thought over the destruction of the Temple of the Body of Jesus which had been brought about by his enemies, and she sighed with a longing desire for the dawning of that third day when the words of eternal truth were to be accomplished. It was about daybreak when Mary and her companions reached the Cenaculum, and they retired into the building which stood on its right-hand side, while John and some of the disciples re-entered the Cenaculum, where about twenty men, assembled around a lamp, were occupied in prayer. Every now and then new-comers drew nigh to the door, came in timidity, approached the group round the lamp, and addressed them in a few mournful words, which they accompanied with tears. Everyone appeared to regard John with feelings of respect; because he had remained with Jesus until he expired; but with these sentiments of respect was mingled a deep feeling of shame and confusion, when they reflected on their own cowardly conduct in abandoning their Lord and Master in the hour of need. John spoke to everyone with the greatest charity and kindness; his manner was modest and unassuming as that of a child, and he seemed to fear receiving praise. I saw the assembled group take one meal during that day, but its members were, for the most part, silent; not a sound was to be heard throughout the house, and the doors were tightly closed, although, in fact, there was no likelihood of anyone disturbing them, as the house belonged to Nicodemus, and he had let it to them for the time of the festival. The holy women remained in this room until nightfall; it was lighted up by a single lamp; the doors were closed, and curtains drawn over the windows. Sometimes they gathered round the Blessed Virgin and prayed under the lamp; at other times they retired to the side of the room, covered their heads with black veils, and either sat on ashes (the sign of mourning), or prayed with their faces turned towards the wall; those whose health was delicate took a little food, but the others fasted. I looked at them again and again, and I saw them ever occupied in the same manner, that is to say, either in prayer or in mourning over the sufferings of their beloved Master. When my thoughts wandered from the contemplation of the Blessed Virgin to that of her Divine Son, I beheld the holy sepulchre with six or seven sentinels at the entrance--Cassius standing against the door of the cave, apparently in deep meditation, the exterior door closed, and the stone rolled close to it. Notwithstanding the thick door which intervened between the body of our Saviour and myself I could see it plainly; it was quite transparent with a divine light, and two angels were adoring at the side. But my thoughts then turned to the contemplation of the blessed soul of my Redeemer, and such an extensive and complicated picture of his descent into hell was shown to me, that I can only remember a small portion of it, which I will describe to the best of my power. CHAPTER LIX. A Detached Account of the Descent into Hell. When Jesus, after uttering a loud cry, expired, I saw his heavenly soul under the form of a bright meteor pierce the earth at the foot of the Cross, accompanied by the angel Gabriel and many other angels. His Divine nature continued united to his soul as well as to his body, which still remained hanging upon the Cross, but I cannot explain how this was, although I saw it plainly in my own mind. The place into which the soul of Jesus entered was divided into three parts, which appeared to me like three worlds; and I felt that they were round, and that each division was separated from the other by a hemisphere. I beheld a bright and beautiful space opposite to Limbo; it was enamelled with flowers, delicious breezes wafted through it; and many souls were placed there before being admitted into Heaven after their deliverance from Purgatory. Limbo, the place where the souls were waiting for the Redemption, was divided into different compartments, and encompassed by a thick foggy atmosphere. Our Lord appeared radiant with light and surrounded by angels, who conducted him triumphantly between two of these compartments; the one on the left containing the patriarchs who lived before the time of Abraham, and that on the right those who lived between the days of Abraham and St. John the Baptist. These souls did not at first recognise Jesus, but were filled nevertheless with sensations of joy and hope. There was not a spot in those narrow confines which did not, as it were, dilate with feelings of happiness. The passage of Jesus might be compared to the wafting of a breath of air, to a sudden flash of light, or to a shower of vivifying dew, but it was swift as a whirlwind. After passing through the two compartments, he reached a dark spot in which Adam and Eve were standing; he spoke to them, they prostrated and adored him in a perfect ecstasy of joy, and they immediately joined the band of angels, and accompanied our Lord to the compartment on the left, which contained the patriarchs who lived before Abraham. This compartment was a species of Purgatory, and a few evil spirits were wandering about among the souls and endeavouring to fill them with anxiety and alarm. The entrance through a species of door was closed, but the angels rapped, and I thought I heard them say, 'Open these doors.' When Jesus entered in triumph the demons dispersed, crying out at the same time, 'What is there between thee and us? What art thou come to do here? Wilt thou crucify us likewise?' The angels hunted them away, having first chained them. The poor souls confined in this place had only a slight presentiment and vague idea of the presence of Jesus; but the moment he told them that it was he himself, they burst out into acclamations of joy, and welcomed him with hymns of rapture and delight. The soul of our Lord then wended its way to the right, towards that part which really constituted Limbo; and there he met the soul of the good thief which angels were carrying to Abraham's bosom, as also that of the bad thief being dragged by demons into Hell. Our Lord addressed a few words to both, and then entered Abraham's bosom, accompanied by numerous angels and holy souls, and also by those demons who had been chained and expelled from the compartment. This locality appeared to me more elevated than the surrounding parts; and I can only describe my sensations on entering it, by comparing them to those of a person coming suddenly into the interior of a church, after having been for some time in the burial vaults. The demons, who were strongly chained, were extremely loth to enter, and resisted to the utmost of their power, but the angels compelled them to go forwards. All the just who had lived before the time of Christ were assembled there; the patriarchs, Moses, the judges, and the kings on the left-hand side; and on the right side, the prophets, and the ancestors of our Lord, as also his near relations, such as Joachim, Anna, Joseph, Zacharias, Elizabeth, and John. There were no demons in this place, and the only discomfort that had been felt by those placed there was a longing desire for the accomplishment of the promise; and when our Lord entered they saluted him with joyful hymns of gratitude and thanksgiving for its fulfilment, they prostrated and adored him, and the evil spirits who had been dragged into Abraham's bosom when our Lord entered were compelled to confess with shame that they were vanquished. Many of these holy souls were ordered by our Lord to return to the earth, re-enter their own bodies, and thus render a solemn and impressive testimony to the truth. It was at this moment that so many dead persons left their tombs in Jerusalem; I regarded them less in the light of dead persons risen again than as corpses put in motion by a divine power, and which, after having fulfilled the mission entrusted to them, were laid aside in the same manner as the insignia of office are taken off by a clerk when he has executed the orders of his superiors. I next saw our Lord, with his triumphant procession, enter into a species of Purgatory which was filled with those good pagans who, having had a faint glimmering of the truth, had longed for its fulfilment: this Purgatory was very deep, and contained a few demons compelled to confess the deception they had practised with regard to these idols, and the souls of the poor pagans cast themselves at the feet of Jesus, and adored him with inexpressible joy: here, likewise, the demons were bound with chains and dragged away. I saw our Saviour perform many other actions; but I suffered so intensely at the same time, that I cannot recount them as I should have wished. Finally, I beheld him approach to the centre of the great abyss, that is to say, to Hell itself; and the expression of his countenance was most severe. The exterior of Hell was appalling and frightful; it was an immense, heavy-looking building, and the granite of which it was formed, although black, was of metallic brightness; and the dark and ponderous doors were secured with such terrible bolts that no one could behold them without trembling. Deep groans and cries of despair might be plainly distinguished even while the doors were tightly closed; but, O, who can describe the dreadful yells and shrieks which burst upon the ear when the bolts were unfastened and the doors flung open; and, O, who can depict the melancholy appearance of the inhabitants of this wretched place! The form under which the Heavenly Jerusalem is generally represented in my visions is that of a beautiful and well-regulated city, and the different degrees of glory to which the elect are raised are demonstrated by the magnificence of their palaces, or the wonderful fruit and flowers with which the gardens are embellished. Hell is shown to me under the same form, but all within it is, on the contrary, close, confused, and crowded; every object tends to fill the mind with sensations of pain and grief; the marks of the wreath and vengeance of God are visible everywhere; despair, like a vulture, gnaws every heart, and discord and misery reign around. In the Heavenly Jerusalem all is peace and eternal harmony, the beginning, fulfilment, and end of everything being pure and perfect happiness; the city is filled with splendid buildings, decorated in such a manner as to charm every eye and enrapture every sense; the inhabitants of this delightful abode are overflowing with rapture and exultation, the gardens gay with lovely flowers, and the trees covered with delicious fruits which give eternal life. In the city of Hell nothing is to be seen but dismal dungeons, dark caverns, frightful deserts, fetid swamps filled with every imaginable species of poisonous and disgusting reptile. In Heaven you behold the happiness and peaceful union of the saints; in Hell, perpetual scenes of wretched discord, and every species of sin and corruption, either under the most horrible forms imaginable, or represented by different kinds of dreadful torments. All in this dreary abode tends to fill the mind with horror; not a word of comfort is heard or a consoling idea admitted; the one tremendous thought, that the justice of an all-powerful God inflicts on the damned nothing but what they have fully deserved is the absorbing tremendous conviction which weighs down each heart. Vice appears in its own grim disgusting colours, being stripped of the mask under which it is hidden in this world, and the infernal viper is seen devouring those who have cherished or fostered it here below. In a word, Hell is the temple of anguish and despair, while the kingdom of God is the temple of peace and happiness. This is easy to understand when seen; but it is almost impossible to describe clearly. The tremendous explosion of oaths, curses, cries of despair, and frightful exclamations which, like a clap of thunder, burst forth when the gates of Hell were thrown open by the angels, would be difficult even to imagine; our Lord spoke first to the soul of Judas, and the angels then compelled all the demons to acknowledge and adore Jesus. They would have infinitely preferred the most frightful torments to such a humiliation; but all were obliged to submit. Many were chained down in a circle which was placed round other circles. In the centre of Hell I saw a dark and horrible-looking abyss, and into this Lucifer was cast, after being first strongly secured with chains; thick clouds of sulphureous black smoke arose from its fearful depths, and enveloped his frightful form in the dismal folds, thus effectually concealing him from every beholder. God himself had decreed this; and I was likewise told, if I remember right, that he will be unchained for a time fifty or sixty years before the year of Christ 2000. The dates of many other events were pointed out to me which I do not now remember; but a certain number of demons are to be let loose much earlier than Lucifer, in order to tempt men, and to serve as instruments of the divine vengeance. I should think that some must be loosened even in the present day, and others will be set free in a short time. It would be utterly impossible for me to describe all the things which were shown to me; their number was so great that I could not reduce them sufficiently to order to define and render them intelligible. Besides which my sufferings are very great, and when I speak on the subject of my visions I behold them in my mind's eye portrayed in such vivid colours, that the sight is almost sufficient to cause a weak mortal like myself to expire. I next saw innumerable bands of redeemed souls liberated from Purgatory and from Limbo, who followed our Lord to a delightful spot situated above the celestial Jerusalem, in which place I, a very short time ago, saw the soul of a person who was very dear to me. The soul of the good thief was likewise taken there, and the promise of our Lord, 'This day thou shalt be with me in Paradise,' was fulfilled. It is not in my power to explain the exact time that each of these events occurred, nor can I relate one-half of the things which I saw and heard; for some were incomprehensible even to myself, and others would be misunderstood if I attempted to relate them. I have seen our Lord in many different places. Even in the sea he appeared to me to sanctify and deliver everything in the creation. Evil spirits fled at his approach, and cast themselves into the dark abyss. I likewise beheld his soul in different parts of the earth, first inside the tomb of Adam, under Golgotha; and when he was there the souls of Adam and Eve came up to him, and he spoke to them for some time. He then visited the tombs of the prophets, who were buried at an immense depth below the surface; but he passed through the soil in the twinkling of an eye. Their souls immediately re-entered their bodies, and he spoke to them, and explained the most wonderful mysteries. Next I saw him, accompanied by a chosen band of prophets, among whom I particularly remarked David, visit those parts of the earth which had been sanctified by his miracles and by his sufferings. He pointed out to them, with the greatest love and goodness, the different symbols in the old law expressive of the future; and he showed them how he himself had fulfilled every prophecy. The sight of the soul of our Lord, surrounded by these happy souls, and radiant with light, was inexpressibly grand as he glided triumphantly through the air, sometimes passing, with the velocity of lightning, over rivers, then penetrating though the hardest rocks to the very centre of the earth, or moving noiselessly over its surface. I can remember nothing beyond the facts which I have just related concerning the descent of Jesus into Limbo, where he went in order to present to the souls there detained the grace of the Redemption which he had merited for them by his death and by his sufferings; and I saw all these things in a very short space of time; in fact, time passed so quickly that it seemed to me but a moment. Our Lord, however, displayed before me, at the same time, another picture, in which I beheld the immense mercies which he bestows in the present day on the poor souls in Purgatory; for on every anniversary of this great day, when his Church is celebrating the glorious mystery of his death, he casts a look of compassion on the souls in Purgatory, and frees some of those who sinned against him before his crucifixion. I this day saw Jesus deliver many souls; some I was acquainted with, and others were strangers to me, but I cannot name any of them. Our Lord, by descending into Hell, planted (if I may thus express myself), in the spiritual garden of the Church, a mysterious tree, the fruits of which--namely, his merits--are destined for the constant relief of the poor souls in Purgatory. The Church militant must cultivate the tree, and gather its fruit, in order to present them to that suffering portion of the Church which can do nothing for itself. Thus it is with all the merits of Christ; we must labour with him if we wish to obtain our share of them; we must gain our bread by the sweat of our brow. Everything which our Lord has done for us in time must produce fruit for eternity; but we must gather these fruits in time, without which we cannot possess them in eternity. The Church is the most prudent and thoughtful of mothers; the ecclesiastical year is an immense and magnificent garden, in which all those fruits for eternity are gathered together, that we may make use of them in time. Each year contains sufficient to supply the wants of all; but woe be to that careless or dishonest gardener who allows any of the fruit committed to his care to perish; if he fails to turn to a proper account those graces which would restore health to the sick; strength to the weak, or furnish food to the hungry! When the Day of Judgment arrives, the Master of the garden will demand a strict account, not only of every tree, but also of all the fruit produced in the garden. CHAPTER LX. The Eve of the Resurrection. Towards the close of the Sabbath-day, John came to see the holy women. He endeavoured to give some consolation, but could not restrain his own tears, and only remained a short time with them. They had likewise a short visit from Peter and James the Greater, after which they retired to their cells, and gave free vent to grief, sitting upon ashes, and veiling themselves even more closely. The prayer of the Blessed Virgin was unceasing. She ever kept her eyes fixed interiorly on Jesus, and was perfectly consumed by her ardent desire of once more beholding him whom she loved with such inexpressible love. Suddenly an angel stood by her side, and bade her arise and go to the door of the dwelling of Nicodemus, for that the Lord was very near. The heart of the Blessed Virgin leaped for joy. She hastily wrapped her cloak about her, and left the holy women, without informing them where she was going. I saw her walk quickly to a small entrance which was cut in the town wall, the identical one through which she had entered when returning with her companions from the sepulchre. It was about nine o'clock at night, and the Blessed Virgin had almost reached the entrance, when I saw her stop suddenly in a very solitary spot, and look upwards in an ecstasy of delight, for on the top of the town wall she beheld the soul of our Lord, resplendent with light, without the appearance of a wound, and surrounded by patriarchs. He descended towards her, turned to his companions, and presenting her to them, said, 'Behold Mary, behold my Mother.' He appeared to me to salute her with a kiss, and he then disappeared. The Blessed Virgin knelt down, and most reverently kissed the ground on which he had stood, and the impression of her hands and knees remained imprinted upon the stones. The sight filled her with inexpressible joy, and she immediately rejoined the holy women, who were busily employed in preparing the perfumes and spices. She did not tell them what she had seen, but her firmness and strength of mind was restored. She was perfectly renovated, and therefore comforted all the rest, and endeavoured to strengthen their faith. All the holy women were sitting by a long table, the cover of which hung down to the floor, when Mary returned; bundles of herbs were heaped around them, and these they mixed together and arranged; small flasks, containing sweet unctions and water of spikenard, were standing near, as also bunches of natural flowers, among which I remarked one in particular, which was like a streaked iris or a lily. Magdalen, Mary the daughter of Cleophas, Salome, Johanna, and Mary Salome, had bought all these things in the town during the absence of Mary. Their intention was to go to the sepulchre before sunrise on the following day, in order to strew these flowers and perfumes over the body of their beloved Master. CHAPTER LVI. Joseph of Arimathea miraculously set at large. A short time after the return of the Blessed Virgin to the holy women, I was shown the interior of the prison in which the enemies of Joseph of Arimathea had confined him. He was praying fervently, when suddenly a brilliant light illuminated the whole place, and I heard a voice calling him by name, while at the same moment the roof opened, and a bright form appeared, holding out a sheet resembling that in which he had wrapped the body of Jesus. Joseph grasped it with both hands, and was drawn up to the opening, which closed again as soon as he had passed through; and the apparition disappeared the instant he was in safety at the tope of the tower. I know not whether it was our Lord himself or an angel who thus set Joseph free. He walked on the summit of the wall until he reached the neighbourhood of the Cenaculum, which was near to the south wall of Sion, and then climbed down and knocked at the door of that edifice, as the doors were fastened. The disciples assembled there had been much grieved when they first missed Joseph, who they thought had been thrown into a sink, a report to that effect having become current. Great, therefore, was their joy when they opened the door and found that it was he himself; indeed, they were almost as much delighted as when Peter was miraculously delivered from prison some years after. When Joseph had related what had taken place, they were filled with astonishment and delight; and after thanking God fervently gave him some refreshment, which he greatly needed. He left Jerusalem that same night, and fled to Arimathea, his native place, where he remained until he thought he could return safely to Jerusalem. I likewise saw Caiphas towards the close of the Sabbath-day, at the house of Nicodemus. He was conversing with him and asking many questions with pretended kindness. Nicodemus answered firmly, and continued to affirm the innocence of Jesus. They did not remain long together. CHAPTER LXII. The Night of Resurrection. I soon after beheld the tomb of our Lord. All was calm and silent around it. There were six soldiers on guard, who were either seated or standing before the door, and Cassius was among them. His appearance was that of a person immersed in meditation and in the expectation of some great event. The sacred body of our Blessed Redeemer was wrapped in the winding-sheet, and surrounded with light, while two angels sat in an attitude of adoration, the one at the head, and the other at the feet. I had seen them in the same posture ever since he was first put into the tomb. These angels were clothed as priests. Their position, and the manner in which they crossed their arms over their breasts, reminded me of the cherubim who surrounded the Ark of the covenant, only they were without wings; at least I did not see any. The whole of the sepulchre reminded me of the Ark of the Covenant at different periods of its history. It is possible that Cassius was sensible of the presence of the angels, and of the bright light which filled the sepulchre, for his attitude was like that of a person in deep contemplation before the Blessed Sacrament. I next saw the soul of our Lord accompanied by those among the patriarchs whom he had liberated enter into the tomb through the rock. He showed them the wounds with which his sacred body was covered; and it seemed to me that the winding-sheet which previously enveloped it was removed, and that Jesus wished to show the souls the excess of suffering he had endured to redeem them. The body appeared to me to be quite transparent, so that the whole depth of the wounds could be seen; and this sight filled the holy souls with admiration, although deep feelings of compassion likewise drew tears from their eyes. My next vision was so mysterious that I cannot explain or even relate it in a clear manner. It appeared to me that the soul and body of Jesus were taken together out of the sepulchre, without, however, the former being completely reunited to the latter, which still remained inanimate. I thought I saw two angels who were kneeling and adoring at the head and feet of the sacred body, raise it--keeping it in the exact position in which it was lying in the tomb--and carry it uncovered and disfigured with wounds across the rock, which trembled as they passed. It then appeared to me that Jesus presented his body, marked with the stigmas of the Passion, to his Heavenly Father, who, seated on a throne, was surrounded by innumerable choirs of angels, blissfully occupied in pouring forth hymns of adoration and jubilee. The case was probably the same when at the death of our Lord, so many holy souls re-entered their bodies, and appeared in the Temple and in different parts of Jerusalem; for it is not likely that the bodies which they animated were really alive, as in that case they would have been obliged to die a second time, whereas they returned to their original state without apparent difficulty; but it is to be supposed that their appearance in human form was similar to that of our Lord, when he (if we may thus express it) accompanied his body to the throne of his Heavenly Father. At this moment the rock was so violently shaken, from the very summit to the base, that three of the guards fell down and became almost insensible. The other four were away at the time, being gone to the town to fetch something. The guards who were thus thrown prostrate attributed the sudden shock to an earthquake; but Cassius, who, although uncertain as to what all this might portend, yet felt an inward presentiment that it was the prelude to some stupendous event, stood transfixed in anxious expectation, waiting to see what would follow next. The soldiers who were gone to Jerusalem soon returned. I again beheld the holy women: they had finished preparing the spices, and were resting in their private cells; not stretched out on the couches, but leaning against the bedclothes, which were rolled up. They wished to go to the sepulchre before the break of day, because they feared meeting the enemies of Jesus; but the Blessed Virgin, who was perfectly renovated and filled with fresh courage since she had seen her Son, consoled and recommended them to sleep for a time, and then go fearlessly to the tomb, as no harm would come to them; whereupon they immediately followed her advice, and endeavoured to sleep. It was towards eleven o'clock at night when the Blessed Virgin, incited by irrepressible feelings of love, arose, wrapped a grey cloak around her, and left the house quite alone. When I saw her do this, I could not help feeling anxious, and saying to myself, 'How is it possible for this holy Mother, who is so exhausted from anguish and terror, to venture to walk all alone through the streets at such an hour?' I saw her go first to the house of Caiphas, and then to the palace of Pilate, which was at a great distance off; I watched her through the whole of her solitary journey along that part which had been trodden by her Son, loaded with his heavy Cross; she stopped at every place where our Saviour had suffered particularly, or had received any fresh outrage from his barbarous enemies. Her appearance, as she walked slowly along, was that of a person seeking something; she often bent down to the ground, touched the stones with her hands, and then inundated them with kisses, if the precious blood of her beloved Son was upon them. God granted her at this time particular lights and graces, and she was able without the slightest degree of difficulty to distinguish every place sanctified by his sufferings. I accompanied her through the whole of her pious pilgrimage, and I endeavoured to imitate her to the best of my power, as far as my weakness would permit. Mary then went to Calvary; but when she had almost reached it, she stopped suddenly, and I saw the sacred body and soul of our Saviour standing before her. An angel walked in front; the two angels whom I had seen in the tomb were by his side, and the souls whom he had redeemed followed him by hundreds. The body of Jesus was brilliant and beautiful, but its appearance was not that of a living body, although a voice issued from it; and I heard him describe to the Blessed Virgin all he had done in Limbo, and then assure her that he should rise again with his glorified body; that he would then show himself to her, and that she must wait near the rock of Mount Calvary, and that part where she saw him fall down, until he appeared. Our Saviour then went towards Jerusalem, and the Blessed Virgin, having again wrapped her veil about her, prostrated on the spot which he had pointed out. It was then, I think, past midnight, for the pilgrimage of Mary over the Way of the Cross had taken up at least an hour; and I next saw the holy souls who had been redeemed by our Saviour traverse in their turn the sorrowful Way of the Cross, and contemplate the different places where he had endured such fearful sufferings for their sakes. The angels who accompanied them gathered sacred flesh which had been torn off by the frequent blows he received, as also the blood with which the ground was sprinkled on those spots where he had fallen. I once more saw the sacred body of our Lord stretched out as I first beheld it in the sepulchre; the angels were occupied in replacing the garments they had gathered up of his flesh, and they received supernatural assistance in doing this. When next I contemplated him it was in his winding-sheet, surrounded with a bright light and with two adoring angels by his side. I cannot explain how all these things came to pass, for they are far beyond our human comprehension; and even if I understand them perfectly myself when I see them, they appear dark and mysterious when I endeavour to explain them to others. As soon as a faint glimmering of dawn appeared in the east, I saw Magdalen, Mary the daughter of Cleophas, Johanna Chusa, and Salome, leave the Cenaculum, closely wrapped up in their mantles. They carried bundles of spices; and one of their number had a lighted candle in her hand, which she endeavoured to conceal under her cloak. I saw them direct their trembling steps towards the small door at the house of Nicodemus. CHAPTER LXIII. The Resurrection of our Lord. I beheld the soul of our Lord between two angels, who were in the attire of warriors: it was bright, luminous, and resplendent as the sun at mid-day; it penetrated the rock, touched the sacred body, passed into it, and the two were instantaneously united, and became as one. I then saw the limbs move, and the body of our Lord, being reunited to his soul and to his divinity, rise and shake off the winding-sheet: the whole of the cave was illuminated and lightsome. At the same moment I saw a frightful monster burst from the earth underneath the sepulchre. It had the tail of a serpent, and it raised its dragon head proudly as if desirous of attacking Jesus; and had likewise, if I remember correctly, a human head. But our Lord held in his hand a white staff, to which was appended a large banner; and he placed his foot on the head of the dragon, and struck its tail three times with his staff, after which the monster disappeared. I had had this same vision many times before the Resurrection, and I saw just such a monster, appearing to endeavour to hide itself, at the time of the conception of our Lord: it greatly resembled the serpent which tempted our first parents in Paradise, only it was more horrible. I thought that this vision had reference to the prophetic words, that 'by the seed of the woman the head of the serpent should be crushed,' and that the whole was intended to demonstrate the victory of our Lord over death, for at the same moment that I saw him crush the head of the monster, the tomb likewise vanished from my sight. I then saw the glorified body of our Lord rise up, and it passed through the hard rock as easily as if the latter had been formed of some ductile substance. The earth shook, and an angel in the garb of a warrior descended from Heaven with the speed of lightning, entered the tomb, lifted the stone, placed it on the right side, and seated himself upon it. At this tremendous sight the soldiers fell to the ground, and remained there apparently lifeless. When Cassius saw the bright light which illuminated the tomb, he approached the place where the sacred body had been placed, looked at and touched the linen clothes in which it had been wrapped, and left the sepulchre, intending to go and inform Pilate of all that had happened. However, he tarried a short time to watch the progress of events; for although he had felt the earthquake, seen the angel move the stone, and looked at the empty tomb, yet he had not seen Jesus. At the very moment in which the angel entered the sepulchre and the earth quaked, I saw our Lord appear to his holy Mother on Calvary. His body was beautiful and lightsome, and its beauty was that of a celestial being. He was clothed in a large mantle, which at one moment looked dazzlingly white, as it floated through the air, waving to and fro with every breath of wind, and the next reflected a thousand brilliant colours as the sunbeams passed over it. His large open wounds shone brightly, and could be seen from a great distance: the wounds in his hands were so large that a finger might be put into them without difficulty; and rays of light proceeded from them, diverging in the direction of his fingers. The souls of the patriarchs bowed down before the Mother of our Saviour, and Jesus spoke to her concerning his Resurrection, telling her many things which I have forgotten. He showed her his wounds; and Mary prostrated to kiss his sacred feet; but he took her hand, raised her, and disappeared. When I was at some distance from the sepulchre I saw fresh lights burning there, and I likewise beheld a large luminous spot in the sky immediately over Jerusalem. CHAPTER LXIV. The holy Women at the Sepulchre. The holy women were very near the door of Nicodemus's house at the moment of our Lord's Resurrection; but they did not see anything of the prodigies which were taking place at the sepulchre. They were not aware that guards had been placed around the tomb, for they had not visited it on the previous day, on account of its being the Sabbath. They questioned one another anxiously concerning what would have to be done about the large stone at the door, as to who would be the best person to ask about removing it, for they had been so engrossed by grief that they had not thought about it before. Their intention was to pour precious ointments upon the body of Jesus, and then to strew over it flowers of the most rare and aromatic kinds, thus rendering all the honour possible to their Divine Master in his sepulchre. Salome, who had brought more things than anyone else, was a rich lady, who lived in Jerusalem, a relation of St. Joseph, but not the mother of John. The holy women came to the determination of putting down their spices on the stone which closed the door of the monument, and waiting until someone came to roll it back. The guards were still lying on the ground, and the strong convulsions which even then shook them clearly demonstrated how great had been their terror, and the large stone was cast on one side, so that the door could be opened without difficulty. I could see the linen cloth in which the body of Jesus had been wrapped scattered about in the tomb, and the large winding-sheet lying in the same place as when they left it, but doubled together in such a manner that you saw at once that it no longer contained anything but the spices which had been placed round the body, and the bandages were on the outside of the tomb. The linen cloth in which Mary had enveloped the sacred head of her Son was still there. I saw the holy women coming into the garden; but when they perceived the light given by the lamps of the sentinels, and the prostrate forms of the soldiers round the tomb, they for the most part became much alarmed, and retreated towards Golgotha. Mary Magdalen was, however, more courageous, and, followed by Salome, entered the garden while the other women remained timidly on the outside. Magdalen started, and appeared for a moment terrified when she drew near the sentinels. She retreated a few steps and rejoined Salome, but both quickly recovered their presence of mind, and walked on together through the midst of the prostrate guards, and entered into the cave which contained the sepulchre. They immediately perceived that the stone was removed, but the doors were closed, which had been done in all probability by Cassius. Magdalen opened them quickly, looked anxiously into the sepulchre, and was much surprised at seeing that the cloths in which they had enveloped our Lord were lying on one side, and that the place where they had deposited the sacred remains was empty. A celestial light filled the cave, and an angel was seated on the right side. Magdalen became almost beside herself from disappointment and alarm. I do not know whether she heard the words which the angel addressed to her, but she left the garden as quickly as possible, and ran to the town to inform the Apostles who were assembled there of what had taken place. I do not know whether the angel spoke to Mary Salome, as she did not enter the sepulchre; but I saw her leaving the garden directly after Magdalen, in order to relate all that had happened to the rest of the holy women, who were both frightened and delighted at the news, but could not make up their minds as to whether they would go to the garden or not. In the mean time Cassius had remained near the sepulchre in hopes of seeing Jesus, as he thought he would be certain to appear to the holy women; but seeing nothing, he directed his steps towards Pilate's palace to relate to him all that had happened, stopping, however, first at the place where the rest of the holy women were assembled, to tell them what he had seen, and to exhort them to go immediately to the garden. They followed his advice, and went there at once. No sooner had they reached the door of the sepulchre than they beheld two angels clothed in sacerdotal vestments of the most dazzling white. The women were very much alarmed, covered their faces with their hands, and prostrated almost to the ground; but one of the angels addressed them, bade them not fear, and told them that they must not seek for their crucified Lord there, for that he was alive, had risen, and was no longer an inhabitant of the tomb. He pointed out to them at the same moment the empty sepulchre, and ordered them to go and relate to the disciples all that they had seen and heard. He likewise told them that Jesus would go before them into Galilee, and recalled to their minds the words which our Saviour had addressed to them on a former occasion: 'The Son of Man will be delivered into the hands of sinners, he will be crucified, and the third day rise again.' The angels then disappeared, and left the holy women filled with joy, although of course greatly agitated; they wept, looked at the empty tomb and linen clothes, and immediately started to return to the town. But they were so much overcome by the many astounding events which had taken place, that they walked very slowly, and stopped and looked back often, in hopes of seeing our Lord, or at least Magdalen. In the mean time Magdalen reached the Cenaculum. She was so excited as to appear like a person beside herself, and knocked hastily at the door. Some of the disciples were still sleeping, and those who were risen were conversing together. Peter and John opened the door, but she only exclaimed, without entering the house, 'They have taken away the body of my Lord, and I know not where they have laid him,' and immediately returned to the garden. Peter and John went back into the house, and after saying a few words to the other disciples followed her as speedily as possible, but John far outstripped Peter. I then saw Magdalen reenter the garden, and direct her steps towards the sepulchre; she appeared greatly agitated partly from grief, and partly from having walked so fast. Her garments were quite moist with dew, and her veil hanging on one side, while the luxuriant hair in which she had formerly taken so much pride fell in dishevelled masses over her shoulders, forming a species of mantle. Being alone, she was afraid of entering the cave, but stopped for a moment on the outside, and knelt down in order to see better into the tomb. She was endeavouring to push back her long hair, which fell over her face and obscured her vision, when she perceived the two angels who were seated in the tomb, and I heard one of them address her thus: 'Woman, why weepest thou?' She replied, in a voice choked with tears (for she was perfectly overwhelmed with grief at finding that the body of Jesus was really gone), 'Because they have taken away my Lord, and I know not where they have laid him.' She said no more, but seeing the empty winding-sheet, went out of the sepulchre and began to look about in other parts. She felt a secret presentiment that not only should she find Jesus, but that he was even then near to her; and the presence of the angels seemed not to disturb her in the least; she did not appear even to be aware that they were angels, every faculty was engrossed with the one thought, 'Jesus is not here! Where is Jesus?' I watched her wandering about like an insane person, with her hair floating loosely in the wind: her hair appeared to annoy her much, for she again endeavoured to push it from off her face, and having divided it into two parts, threw it over her shoulders. She then raised her head, looked around, and perceived a tall figure, clothed in white, standing at about ten paces from the sepulchre on the east side of the garden, where there was a slight rise in the direction of the town; the figure was partly hidden from her sight by a palm-tree, but she was somewhat startled when it addressed her in these words: 'Woman, why weepest thou? Whom seekest thou?' She thought it was the gardener; and, in fact, he had a spade in his hand, and a large hat (apparently made of the bark of trees) on his head. His dress was similar to that worn by the gardener described in the parable which Jesus had related to the holy women at Bethania a short time before his Passion. His body was not luminous, his hole appearance was rather that of a man dressed in white and seen by twilight. At the words, 'Whom seekest thou?' she looked at him, and answered quickly, 'Sir, if thou hast taken him hence, tell me where thou hast laid him; and I will take him away.' And she looked anxiously around. Jesus said to her, 'Mary.' She then instantly recognised his beloved voice, and turning quickly, replied, 'Rabboni (Master)!' She threw herself on her knees before him, and stretched out her hands to touch his feet; but he motioned her to be still, and said, 'Do not touch me, for I am not yet ascended to my Father; but go to my brethren and say to them: I ascend to my Father and to your Father, to my God and your God.' He then disappeared. The reason of the words of Jesus, 'Do not touch me,' was afterwards explained to me, but I have only an indistinct remembrance of that explanation. I think he made use of those words because of the impetuosity of Magdalen's feelings, which made her in a certain degree forget the stupendous mystery which had been accomplished, and feel as if what she then beheld was still mortal instead of a glorified body. As for the words of Jesus, 'I am not yet ascended to my Father,' I was told that their meaning was that he had not presented himself to his Father since his Resurrection, to return him thanks for his victory over death, and for the work of the redemption which he had accomplished. He wished her to infer from these words, that the first-fruits of joy belong to God, and that she ought to reflect and return thanks to him for the accomplishment of the glorious mystery of the redemption, and for the victory which he had gained over death; and if she had kissed his feet as she used before the Passion, she would have thought of nothing but her Divine Master, and in her raptures of love have totally forgotten the wonderful events which were causing such astonishment and joy in Heaven. I saw Magdalen arise quickly, as soon as our Lord disappeared, and run to look again in the sepulchre, as if she believed herself under the influence of a dream. She saw the two angels still seated there, and they spoke to her concerning the resurrection of our Lord in the same words as they had addressed the two other women. She likewise saw the empty winding-sheet, and then, feeling certain that she was not in a state of delusion, but that the apparition of our Lord was real, she walked quickly back towards Golgotha to seek her companions, who were wandering about to and fro, anxiously looking out for her return, and indulging a kind of vague hope that they should see or hear something of Jesus. The whole of this scene occupied a little more than two or three minutes. It was about half-past three when our Lord appeared to Magdalen, and John and Peter entered the garden just as she was leaving it. John, who was a little in advance of Peter, stopped at the entrance of the cave and looked in. He saw the linen clothes lying on one side, and waited until Peter came up, when they entered the sepulchre together, and saw the winding-sheet empty as has been before described. John instantly believed in the Resurrection, and they both understood clearly the words addressed to them by Jesus before his Passion, as well as the different passages in Scripture relating to that event, which had until then been incomprehensible to them. Peter put the linen clothes under his cloak, and they returned hastily into the town through the small entrance belonging to Nicodemus. The appearance of the holy sepulchre was the same when the two Apostles entered as when Magdalen first saw it. The two adoring angels were seated, one at the head, and the other at the extremity of the tomb, in precisely the same attitude as when his adorable body was lying there. I do not think Peter was conscious of their presence. I afterwards heard John tell the disciples of Emmaus, that when he looked into the sepulchre he saw an angel. Perhaps he was startled by this sight, and therefore drew back and let Peter enter the sepulchre first; but it is likewise very possible that the reason of his not mentioning the circumstance in his gospel was because humility made him anxious to conceal the fact of his having been more highly favoured than Peter. The guards at this moment began to revive, and rising, gathered up their lances, and took down the lamps, which were on the door, from whence they cast a glimmering weak light on surrounding objects. I then saw them walk hastily out of the garden in evident fear and trepidation, in the direction of the town. In the mean time Magdalen had rejoined the holy women, and given them the account of her seeing the Lord in the garden, and of the words of the angels afterwards, whereupon they immediately related what had been seen by themselves, and Magdalen wended her way quickly to Jerusalem, while the women returned to that side of the garden where they expected to find the two Apostles. Just before they reached it, Jesus appeared to them. He was clothed in a long white robe, which concealed even his hands, and said to them, 'All hail.' They started with astonishment, and cast themselves at his feet; he spoke a few words, held forth his hand as if to point out something to them, and disappeared. The holy women went instantly to the Cenaculum, and told the disciples who were assembled there that they had seen the Lord; the disciples were incredulous, and would not give credence either to their account or to that of Magdalen. They treated both the one and the other as the effects of their excited imaginations; but when Peter and John entered the room and related what they likewise had seen, they knew not what to answer, and were filled with astonishment. Peter and John soon left the Cenaculum, as the wonderful events which had taken place rendered them extremely silent and thoughtful, and before long they met James the Less and Thaddeus, who had wished to accompany them to the sepulchre. Both James and Thaddeus were greatly overcome, for the Lord had appeared to them a short time before they met Peter and John. I also saw Jesus pass quite close to Peter and John. I think the former recognised him, for the started suddenly, but I do not think the latter saw him. CHAPTER LXV. The Relation which was given by the Sentinels who were placed around the Sepulchre. Cassius hastened to the house of Pilate about an hour after the Resurrection, in order to give him an account of the stupendous events which had taken place. He was not yet risen, but Cassius was allowed to enter his bedroom. He related all that had happened, and expressed his feelings in the most forcible language. He described how the rock had been rent, and how an angel had descended from Heaven and pushed aside the stone; he also spoke of the empty winding-sheet, and added that most certainly Jesus was the Messiah, the Son of God, and that he was truly risen. Pilate listened to this account; he trembled and quivered with terror, but concealed his agitation to the best of his power, and answered Cassius in these words: 'Thou art exceedingly superstitious; it was very foolish to go to the Galilean's tomb; his gods took advantage of thy weakness, and displayed all these ridiculous visions to alarm thee. I recommend thee to keep silence, and not recount such silly tales to the priests, for thou wouldst get the worst of it from them.' He pretended to believe that the body of Jesus had been carried away by his disciples, and that the sentinels, who had been bribed, and had fallen asleep, or perhaps been deceived by witchcraft, had fabricated these accounts in order to justify their conduct. When Pilate had said all he could on the subject, Cassius left him, and he went to offer sacrifice to his gods. The four soldiers who had guarded the tomb arrived shortly after at Pilate's palace, and began to tell him all that he had already heard from Cassius; but he would listen to nothing more, and sent them to Caiphas. The rest of the guards were assembled in a large court near the Temple which was filled with aged Jews, who, after some previous consultation, took the soldiers on one side, and by dint of bribes and threats endeavoured to persuade them to say that they fell asleep, and that while they were asleep the disciples came and carried away the body of our Lord. The soldiers, however, demurred, because the statement which their comrades were gone to make to Pilate would contradict any account which they could now fabricate, but the Pharisees promised to arrange everything with the governor. Whilst they were still disputing, the four guards returned from their interview with Pilate, and the Pharisees endeavoured to persuade them to conceal the truth; but this they refused to do, and declared firmly that they would not vary their first statement in the smallest degree. The miraculous deliverance of Joseph of Arimathea from prison was become public, and when the Pharisees accused the soldiers of having allowed the Apostles to carry off the body of Jesus, and threatened them with the infliction of the most severe punishment if they did not produce the body, they replied, that it would be as utterly impossible for them to produce the body of Jesus, as it was for the soldiers who had charge of Joseph of Arimathea to bring him back into his prison again. They spoke with the greatest firmness and courage; promises and menaces were equally ineffectual. They declared that they would speak the truth and nothing but the truth; that the sentence of death which had been passed upon Jesus was both unjust and iniquitous; and that the crime which was perpetrated in putting him to death was the sole cause of the interruption in the Paschal solemnity. The Pharisees, being perfectly furious, caused the four soldiers to be arrested and thrown into prison, and the others, who had accepted the bribes they offered, then affirmed that the body of Jesus had been carried off by the disciples while they slept; and the Pharisees, Sadducees, and Herodians endeavoured to disseminate this lie to the utmost of their power, not only in the synagogue but also among the people; and they accompanied this false statement by the most slanderous lies concerning Jesus. All these precautions, however, availed but little, for, after the Resurrection, many persons who had been long dead arose from their graves, and appeared to those among their descendants who were not sufficiently hardened to be impervious to grace, and exhorted them to be converted. These dead persons were likewise seen by many of the disciples, who, overcome with terror, and shaken in faith, had fled into the country. They both exhorted and encouraged them to return, and restored their drooping courage. The resurrection of these dead persons did not in the slightest degree resemble the Resurrection of Jesus. He arose with a glorified body, which was no longer susceptible of either corruption or death, and ascended into heaven with this glorified body in the sight of all his disciples; but the dead bodies of which we spoke above were motionless corpses, and the souls which once inhabited them were only allowed to enter and reanimate them for a time, and after performing the mission given them, the souls again quitted these bodies, which returned to their original state in the bowels of the earth, where they will remain until the resurrection at the day of judgment. Neither could their return to life be compared to the raising of Lazarus from the dead; for he really returned to a new life, and died a second time. CHAPTER LXVI. The End of the Lenten Meditations. On the following Sunday, if I remember right, I saw the Jews washing and purifying the Temple.20 They offered up expiatory sacrifices, cleared away the rubbish, and endeavoured to conceal the effects of the earthquake by placing planks and carpets over the chasms and fissures made by it in the walls and on the pavement; and they recommenced the Paschal solemnities, which had been interrupted in the midst, declared that the disturbance had been caused by the presence of impure persons, and endeavoured to explain away the apparition of the dead. They referred to a vision of Ezechiel, but how I can no longer remember. They threatened all who dared to say a syllable concerning the events which had taken place, or who presumed to murmur, with excommunication and other severe punishments. They succeeded in silencing some few hardened persons who, conscious of their own guilt, wished to banish the subject from their minds, but they made no impression on those whose hearts still retained some remains of virtue; they remained silent for a time, concealing their inward belief, but later, regaining courage, proclaimed their faith in Jesus loudly to the world. The High Priests were much disconcerted, when they perceived how rapidly the doctrines of Christ spread over the country. When Stephen was deacon, the whole of Ophel and the eastern side of Sion was too small to contain the numerous Christian communities, and a portion were obliged to take up their residence in the country between Jerusalem and Bethania. I saw Annas in such a state of frenzy as to act like one possessed; he was at last obliged to be confined, and never again to make his appearance in public. Caiphas was outwardly less demonstrative, but he was inwardly devoured with such rage and extreme jealousy that his reason was affected. I saw Pilate on Easter Thursday; he was instituting a search for his wife in every part of the city, but his efforts for her recovery were fruitless; she was concealed in the house of Lazarus, in Jerusalem. No one thought of looking there, as the house contained no other female; but Stephen carried food to her there, and let her know all that was going on in the city. Stephen was first-cousin to St. Paul. They were the sons of two brothers. On the day after the Sabbath, Simon of Cyrene went to the Apostles and begged to be instructed and to receive baptism. The visions of Sister Emmerich, which had continued from the 18th of February to the 6th of April 1823, here came to a conclusion. APPENDIX. Detached Account of Longinus. On the 15th of March 1821, Sister Emmerich gave the following detached account of parts of a vision which she had had the previous night concerning St. Longinus, whose festival happened to fall upon that very day, although she did not know it. Longinus, who had, I think, another name, held on office, partly civil and partly military, in the household of Pilate, who entrusted him with the duty of superintending all that passed, and making a report of it to him. He was trustworthy and ready to do a service, but previous to his conversion was greatly wanting in firmness and strength of character. He was excessively impetuous in all that he did, and anxious to be thought a person of great importance, and as he squinted and had weak eyes, he was often jeered at and made the laughing-stock of his companions. I have seen him frequently during the course of this night, and in connection with him I have at the same time seen all the Passion, I do not know in what manner; I only remember that it was in connection with him. Longinus was only in a subordinate position, and had to give an account to Pilate of all that he saw. On the night that Jesus was led before the tribunal of Caiphas he was in the outer court among the soldiers, and unceasingly going backwards and forwards. When Peter was alarmed at the words of the maid-servant standing near the fire, it was he who said once: 'Art thou not also one of this man's disciples?' When Jesus was being led to Calvary, Longinus, by Pilate's orders, followed him closely, and our Divine Lord gave him a look which touched his heart. Afterwards I saw him on Golgotha with the soldiers. He was on horseback, and carried a lance; I saw him at Pilate's house, after the death of our Lord, saying that the legs of Jesus ought not to be broken. He returned at once to Calvary. His lance was made of several pieces which fitted one into the other, so that by drawing them out, the lance could be made three times its original length. He had just done this when he came to the sudden determination of piercing the side of our Saviour. He was converted upon Mount Calvary, and a short time afterwards expressed to Pilate his conviction that Jesus was the Son of God. Nicodemus prevailed upon Pilate to let him have Longinus's lance, and I have seen many things concerning the subsequent history of this lance. Longinus, after his conversion, left the army, and joined the disciples. He and two other soldiers, who were converted at the foot of the cross, were among the first baptised after Pentecost. I saw Longinus and these two men, clothed in long white garments, return to their native land. They lived there in the country, in a barren and marshy locality. Here it was that the forty martyrs died. Longinus was not a priest, but a deacon, and travelled here and there in that capacity, preaching the name of Christ, and giving, as an eye-witness, a history of his Passion and Resurrection. He converted a large number of persons, and cured many of the sick, by allowing them to touch a piece of the sacred lance which he carried with him. The Jews were much enraged at him and his two companions because they made known in all parts the truth of the Resurrection of Jesus, and the cruelty and deceits of his enemies. At their instigation, some Roman soldiers were dispatched to Longinus's country to take and judge him on the plea of his having left the army without leave, and being a disturber of public peace. He was engaged in cultivating his field when they arrived, and he took them to his house, and offered them hospitality. They did not know him, and when they had acquainted him with the object of their journey, he quietly called his two companions who were living in a sort of hermitage at no great distance off, and told the soldiers that they and himself were the men for whom they were seeking. The same thing happened to the holy gardener, Phocas. The soldiers were really distressed, for they had conceived a great friendship for him. I saw him led with his two companions to a small neighbouring town, where they were questioned. They were not put in prison, but permitted to go whither they pleased, as prisoners on their word, and only made to wear a distinctive park on the shoulder. Later, they were all three beheaded on a hill, situated between the little town and Longinus's house, and there buried. The soldiers put the head of Longinus at the end of a spear, and carried it to Jerusalem, as a proof that they had fulfilled their commission. I think I remember that this took place a very few years after the death of our Lord. Afterwards I had a vision of things happening at a later period. A blind countrywoman of St. Longinus went with her son on a pilgrimage to Jerusalem, in hopes of recovering her sight in the holy city where the eyes of Longinus had been cured. She was guided by her child, but he died, and she was left alone and disconsolate. Then St. Longinus appeared to her, and told her that she would recover her sight when she had drawn his head out of a sink into which the Jews had thrown it. This sink was a deep well, with the sides bricked, and all the filth and refuse of the town flowed into it through several drains. I saw some persons lead the poor woman to the spot; she descended into the well up to her neck, and drew out the sacred head, whereupon she recovered her sight. She returned to her native land, and her companions preserved the head. I remember no more upon this subject. Detached Account of Abenadar. On the 1st of April 1823, Sister Emmerich said that that day was the feast of St. Ctesiphon, the centurion who had assisted at the Crucifixion, and that she had seen during the night various particulars concerning his life. But she had also suffered greatly, which, combined with exterior distractions, had caused her to forget the greatest part of what she had seen. She related what follows: Abenadar, afterwards called Ctesiphon, was born in a country situated between Babylon and Egypt in Arabia Felix, to the right of the spot where Job dwelt during the latter half of his life. A certain number of square houses, with flat roofs, were built there on a slight ascent. There were many small trees growing on this spot, and incense and balm were gathered there. I have been in Abenadar's house, which was large and spacious, as might be expected of a rich man's house, but it was also very low. All these houses were built in this manner, perhaps on account of the wind, because they were much exposed. Abenadar had joined the garrison of the fortress Antonia, at Jerusalem, as a volunteer. He had entered the Roman service for the purpose of enjoying more facilities in his study of the fine arts, for he was a learned man. His character was firm, his figure short and thick-set, and his complexion dark. Abenadar was early convinced, by the doctrine which he heard Jesus preach, and by a miracle which he saw him work; that salvation was to be found among the Jews, and he had submitted to the law of Moses. Although not yet a disciple of our Lord, he bore him no illwill, and held his person in secret veneration. He was naturally grave and composed, and when he came to Golgotha to relieve guard, he kept order on all sides, and forced everybody to behave at least with common decency, down to the moment when truth triumphed over him, and he rendered public testimony to the Divinity of Jesus. Being a rich man, and a volunteer, he had no difficulty in resigning his post at once. He assisted at the descent from the Cross and the burial of our Lord, which put him into familiar connection with the friends of Jesus, and after the day of Pentecost he was one of the first to receive baptism in the Pool of Bethsaida, where he took the name of Ctesiphon. He had a brother living in Arabia, to whom he related the miracles he had beheld, and who was thus called to the path of salvation, came to Jerusalem, was baptised by the name of Cecilius, and was charged, together with Ctesiphon, to assist the deacons in the newly-formed Christian community. Ctesiphon accompanied the Apostle St. James the Greater into Spain, and also returned with him. After a time, he was again sent into Spain by the Apostles, and carried there the body of St. James, who had been martyred at Jerusalem. He was made a bishop, and resided chiefly in a sort of island or peninsula at no great distance from France, which he also visited, and where he made some disciples. The name of the place where he lived was rather like Vergui, and it was afterwards laid waste by an inundation. I do not remember that Ctesiphon was ever martyred. He wrote several books containing details concerning the Passion of Christ; but there have been some books falsely attributed to him, and others, which were really from his pen, ascribed to different writers. Rome has since rejected these books, the greatest part of which were apocryphal, but which nevertheless did contain some few things really from his pen. One of the guards of our Lord's sepulchre, who would not let himself be bribed by the Jews, was his fellow countryman and friend. His name was something like Sulei or Suleii. After being detained some time in prison, he retired into a cavern of Mount Sinai, where he lived seven years. God bestowed many special graces upon this man, and he wrote some very learned books in the style of Denis the Areopagite. Another writer made use of his works, and in this manner some extracts from them have come down to us. Everything concerning these facts was made known to me, as well as the name of the book, but I have forgotten it. This countryman of Ctesiphon, afterwards followed him into Spain. Among the companions of Ctesiphon in that country were this brother Cecilius, and some other men, whose name were Intalecius, Hesicius, and Euphrasius. Another Arab, called Sulima, was converted in the very early days of the Church, and a fellow countryman of Ctesiphon, with a name like Sulensis, became a Christian later, in the time of the deacons. THE END. 1 Anne Catherine's visions clearly fall in the category of private revelation. Sacred Scripture and Sacred Tradition are infallible; private revelation is fallible. However, her visions are neither mere human meditations nor pious fiction. Her account of events in the lives of Jesus and Mary were revealed to her by God. Although God cannot err in anything He does, errors can be introduced into private revelation by a misunderstanding on the part of the person who receives the revelation, or by an error made by the person who writes down or transmits the revelation. Sacred Scripture and Sacred Tradition are immune from these types of error; private revelation is not. Anne Catherine's visions come from God, but they are fallible because they come to us through fallible human persons. 2 Her name in German, her native language, is Anna Katharina Emmerick. With the decree of April 24, 2001, the servant of God Anna Katharina Emmerick has been awarded the degree of heroic virtue (Decretum super virtutibus), with which she has been awarded by Church practice the title "Venerable." 3 In more modern times, holy persons who also had the stigmata include: Audrey Marie Santo (Worcester, Massachusetts), Venerable Padre Pio of Pietrelcina, Venerable Anna Maria Taigi, Theresa Neumann, and many others. 4 In her book, The Life of Jesus Christ and Biblical Revelations, Anne Catherine Emmerich details the events of the 31/2-year Ministry of Jesus Christ. Although she explicitly states that Christ's Ministry lasted 31/2 years (Vol. 1, p. 496), the astute reader of that work will notice a gap of about one year. 5 She here again explained the manner in which the families assembled together, and in what numbers. But the writer has forgotten her words. 6 She was not certain that the Blessed Sacrament was administered in that order, for on another occasion she had seen John the last to receive. 7 It was not without surprise that the editor, some years after these things had been related by Sister Emmerich, read, in the Latin edition of the Roman Catechism (Mayence, Muller), in reference to the Sacrament of Confirmation, that, according to the tradition of the holy pope Fabian, Jesus taught his Apostles in what manner they were to prepare the Holy Chrism, after the institution of the Blessed Sacrament. The Pope says expressly, in the 54th paragraph of his Second Epistle to the Bishops of the East: 'Our predecessors received from the Apostles and delivered to us that our Saviour Jesus Christ, after having made the Last Supper with his Apostles and washed their feet, taught them how to prepare the Holy Chrism.' 8 On the 11th of December 1812, in her visions of the public life of Jesus, she saw our Lord permit the devils whom he had expelled from the men of Gergesa to enter into a herd of swine, she also saw, on this particular occasion that the possessed men first overturned a large vat filled with some fermented liquid. 9 Dulmen is a small town in Westphalia, where Sister Emmerich lived at this time. 10 Mary of Heli is often spoken of in this relation. According to Sister Emmerich, she was the daughter of St. Joachim and St. Anne, and was born nearly twenty years before the Blessed Virgin. She was not the child of promise, and is called Mary of Heli, by which she is distinguished from the other of the same name, because she was the daughter of Joachim, or Heliachim. Her husband bore the name of Cleophas, and her daughter that of Mary of Cleophas. This daughter was, however, older than her aunt, the Blessed Virgin, and had been married first to Alpheus, by whom she had three sons, afterwards the Apostles Simon, James the Less and Thaddeus. She had one son by her second husband, Sabat, and another called Simon, by her third husband, Jonas. Simon was afterwards Bishop of Jerusalem. 11 These meditations on the sufferings of Jesus filled Sister Emmerich with such feelings of compassion that she begged of God to allow her to suffer as he had done. She instantly became feverish and parched with thirst, and, by morning, was speechless from the contraction of her tongue and of her lips. She was in this state when her friend came to her in the morning, and she looked like a victim which had just been sacrificed. Those around succeeded, with some difficulty, in moistening her mouth with a little water, but it was long before she could give any further details concerning her meditations on the Passion. 12 The Zacharias here referred to was the father of John the Baptist, who was tortured and afterwards put to death by Herod, because he would not betray John into the hands of the tyrant. He was buried by his friends within the precincts of the Temple. 13 Sister Emmerich added: 'Cassius was baptised by the name of Longinus; and was ordained deacon, and preached the faith. He always kept some of the blood of Christ,--it dried up, but was found in his coffin in Italy. He was buried in a town at no great distance from the locality where St. Clare passed her life. There is a lake with an island upon it near this town, and the body of Longinus must have been taken there.' Sister Emmerich appears to designate Mantua by this description, and there is a tradition preserved in that town to the effect. I do not know which St. Clare lived in the neighbourhood. 14 We must here remark that, in the four years during which Sister Emmerich had her visions, she described everything that had happened to the holy places from the earliest times down to our own. More than once she beheld them profaned and laid waste, but always venerated, either publicly or privately. She saw many stones and pieces of rock, which had been silent witnesses of the Passion and Resurrection of our Lord, placed by St. Helena in the Church of the Holy Sepulchre upon occasion of the foundation of that sacred building. When Sister Emmerich visited it in spirit she was accustomed to venerate the spots where the Cross had stood and the Holy Sepulchre been situated. It must be observed, however, that she used sometimes to see a greater distance between the actual position of the Tomb and the spot where the Cross stood than there is between the chapels which bear their names in the church at Jerusalem. 15 On Good Friday, March 30th, 1820, as Sister Emmerich was contemplating the descent from the Cross she suddenly fainted, in the presence of the writer of these lines, and appeared to be really dead. But after a time she recovered her senses and gave the following explanation, although still in a state of great suffering: 'As I was contemplating the body of Jesus lying on the knees of the Blessed Virgin I said to myself: "How great is her strength! She has not fainted even once!" My guide reproached me for this thought--in which there was more astonishment than compassion--and said to me, "Suffer then what she has suffered!" And at the same moment a sensation of the sharpest anguish transfixed me like a sword, so that I believed I must have died from it.' She had had an illness which reduced her almost to the brink of the grave. 16 Sister Emmerich said that the shape of these pincers reminded her of the scissors with which Samson's hair was cut off. In her visions of the third year of the public life of Jesus she had seen our Lord keep the Sabbathday at Misael--a town belonging to the Levites, of the tribe of Aser--and as a portion of the Book of Judges was read in the synagogue, Sister Emmerich beheld upon that occasion the life of Samson. 17 Sister Emmerich was accustomed, when speaking of persons of historical importance, to explain how they divided their hair. 'Eve,' she said, 'divided her hair in two parts, but Mary into three.' And she appeared to attach importance to these words. No opportunity presented itself for her to give any explanation upon the subject, which probably would have shown what was done with the hair in sacrifices, funerals, consecrations, or vows, etc. She once said of Samson: 'His fair hair, which was long and thick, was gathered up on his head in seven tresses, like a helmet, and the ends of these tresses were fastened upon his forehead and temples. His hair was not in itself the source of his strength, but only as the witness to the vow which he had made to let it grow in God's honour. The powers which depended upon these seven tresses were the seven gifts of the Holy Ghost. He must have already broken his vows and lost many graces, when he allowed this sign of being a Nazarene to be cut off. I did not see Dalila cut off all his hair, and I think one lock remained on his forehead. He retained the grace to do penance and of that repentance by which he recovered strength sufficient to destroy his enemies. The life of Samson is figurative and prophetic.' 18 This refers to a custom of the Diocese of Munster. During Lent there was hung up in the churches a curtain, embroidered in open work, representing the Five Wounds, the instruments of the Passion, etc. 19 Apparently Sister Emmerich here spoke of the ancient cases in which her poor countrymen keep their clothes. The lower part of these cases is smaller than the upper, and this gives them some likeness to a tomb. She had one of these cases, which she called her chest. She often described the stone by this comparison, but her descriptions have not, nevertheless, given us a very clear idea of its shape. 20 The above relation was given later, and it is impossible to say whether it relates to the day of the Resurrection or to the following Sunday. 
10955	----	THE GOSPELS IN THE SECOND CENTURY _AN EXAMINATION OF THE CRITICAL PART OF A WORK ENTITLED 'SUPERNATURAL RELIGION'_ BY W. SANDAY, M.A. _Rector of Barton-on-the-Heath, Warwickshire; and late Fellow of Trinity College, Oxford. Author of a Work on the Fourth Gospel._ LONDON: 1876. _I had hoped to inscribe in this book the revered and cherished name of my old head master, DR. PEARS of Repton. His consent had been very kindly and warmly given, and I was just on the point of sending the dedication to the printers when I received a telegram naming the day and hour of his funeral. His health had for some time since his resignation of Repton been seriously failing, but I had not anticipated that the end was so near. All who knew him will deplore his too early loss, and their regret will be shared by the wider circle of those who can appreciate a life in which there was nothing ignoble, nothing ungenerous, nothing unreal. I had long wished that he should receive some tribute of regard from one whom he had done his best by precept, and still more by example, to fit and train for his place and duty in the world. This pleasure and this honour have been denied me. I cannot place my book, as I had hoped, in his hand, but I may still lay it reverently upon his tomb._ CONTENTS CHAP. I. INTRODUCTORY II. ON QUOTATIONS GENERALLY IN THE EARLY CHRISTIAN WRITERS III. THE APOSTOLIC FATHERS IV. JUSTIN MARTYR V. HEGESIPPUS--PAPIAS VI. THE CLEMENTINE HOMILIES VII. BASILIDES AND VALENTINUS VIII. MARCION IX. TATIAN--DIONYSIUS OF CORINTH X. MELITO--APOLLINARIS--ATHENAGORAS--THE EPISTLE OF VIENNE AND LYONS XI. PTOLOMAEUS AND HERACLEON--CELSUS--THE MURATORIAN FRAGMENT XII. THE EXTERNAL EVIDENCE FOR THE FOURTH GOSPEL XIII. ON THE STATE OF THE CANON IN THE LAST QUARTER OF THE SECOND CENTURY XIV. CONCLUSION [ENDNOTES] APPENDIX. SUPPLEMENTAL NOTE ON THE RECONSTRUCTION OF MARCION'S GOSPEL INDICES PREFACE. It will be well to explain at once that the following work has been written at the request and is published at the cost of the Christian Evidence Society, and that it may therefore be classed under the head of Apologetics. I am aware that this will be a drawback to it in the eyes of some, and I confess that it is not altogether a recommendation in my own. Ideally speaking, Apologetics ought to have no existence distinct from the general and unanimous search for truth, and in so far as they tend to put any other consideration, no matter how high or pure in itself, in the place of truth, they must needs stand aside from the path of science. But, on the other hand, the question of true belief itself is immensely wide. It is impossible to approach what is merely a branch of a vast subject without some general conclusions already formed as to the whole. The mind cannot, if it would, become a sheet of blank paper on which the writing is inscribed by an external process alone. It must needs have its _praejudicia_-- i.e. judgments formed on grounds extrinsic to the special matter of enquiry--of one sort or another. Accordingly we find that an absolutely and strictly impartial temper never has existed and never will. If it did, its verdict would still be false, because it would represent an incomplete or half-suppressed humanity. There is no question that touches, directly or indirectly, on the moral and spiritual nature of man that can be settled by the bare reason. A certain amount of sympathy is necessary in order to estimate the weight of the forces that are to be analysed: yet that very sympathy itself becomes an extraneous influence, and the perfect balance and adjustment of the reason is disturbed. But though impartiality, in the strict sense, is not to be had, there is another condition that may be rightly demanded--resolute honesty. This I hope may be attained as well from one point of view as from another, at least that there is no very great antecedent reason to the contrary. In past generations indeed there was such a reason. Strongly negative views could only be expressed at considerable personal risk and loss. But now, public opinion is so tolerant, especially among the reading and thinking classes, that both parties are practically upon much the same footing. Indeed for bold and strong and less sensitive minds negative views will have an attraction and will find support that will go far to neutralise any counterbalancing disadvantage. On either side the remedy for the effects of bias must be found in a rigorous and searching criticism. If misleading statements and unsound arguments are allowed to pass unchallenged the fault will not lie only with their author. It will be hardly necessary for me to say that the Christian Evidence Society is not responsible for the contents of this work, except in so far as may be involved in the original request that I should write it. I undertook the task at first with some hesitation, and I could not have undertaken it at all without stipulating for entire freedom. The Society very kindly and liberally granted me this, and I am conscious of having to some extent availed myself of it. I have not always stayed to consider whether the opinions expressed were in exact accordance with those of the majority of Christians. It will be enough if they should find points of contact in some minds, and the tentative element in them will perhaps be the more indulgently judged now that the reconciliation of the different branches of knowledge and belief is being so anxiously sought for. The instrument of the enquiry had to be fashioned as the enquiry itself went on, and I suspect that the consequences of this will be apparent in some inequality and incompleteness in the earlier portions. For instance, I am afraid that the textual analysis of the quotations in Justin may seem somewhat less satisfactory than that of those in the Clementine Homilies, though Justin's quotations are the more important of the two. Still I hope that the treatment of the first may be, for the scale of the book, sufficiently adequate. There seemed to be a certain advantage in presenting the results of the enquiry in the order in which it was conducted. If time and strength are allowed me, I hope to be able to carry several of the investigations that are begun in this book some stages further. I ought perhaps to explain that I was prevented by other engagements from beginning seriously to work upon the subject until the latter end of December in last year. The first of Dr. Lightfoot's articles in the Contemporary Review had then appeared. The next two articles (on the Silence of Eusebius and the Ignatian Epistles) were also in advance of my own treatment of the same topics. From this point onwards I was usually the first to finish, and I have been compelled merely to allude to the progress of the controversy in notes. Seeing the turn that Dr. Lightfoot's review was taking, and knowing how utterly vain it would be for any one else to go over the same ground, I felt myself more at liberty to follow a natural bent in confining myself pretty closely to the internal aspect of the enquiry. My object has been chiefly to test in detail the alleged quotations from our Gospels, while Dr. Lightfoot has taken a wider sweep in collecting and bringing to bear the collateral matter of which his unrivalled knowledge of the early Christian literature gave him such command. It will be seen that in some cases, as notably in regard to the evidence of Papias, the external and the internal methods have led to an opposite result; and I shall look forward with much interest to the further discussion of this subject. I should be sorry to ignore the debt I am under to the author of 'Supernatural Religion' for the copious materials he has supplied to criticism. I have also to thank him for his courtesy in sending me a copy of the sixth edition of his work. My obligations to other writers I hope will be found duly acknowledged. If I were to single out the one book to which I owed most, it would probably be Credner's 'Beitrage zur Einleitung in die Biblischen Schriften,' of which I have spoken somewhat fully in an early chapter. I have used a certain amount of discretion and economy in avoiding as a rule the works of previous apologists (such as Semisch, Riggenbach, Norton, Hofstede de Groot) and consulting rather those of an opposite school in such representatives as Hilgenfeld and Volkmar. In this way, though I may very possibly have omitted some arguments which may be sound, I hope I shall have put forward few that have been already tried and found wanting. As I have made rather large use of the argument supplied by text- criticism, I should perhaps say that to the best of my belief my attention was first drawn to its importance by a note in Dr. Lightfoot's work on Revision. The evidence adduced under this head will be found, I believe, to be independent of any particular theory of text-criticism. The idea of the Analytical Index is taken, with some change of plan, from Volkmar. It may serve to give a sort of _coup d'oeil_ of the subject. It is a pleasure to be able to mention another form of assistance from which it is one of the misfortunes of an anonymous writer to find himself cut off. The proofs of this book have been seen in their passage through the press by my friend the Rev. A.J. Mason, Fellow of Trinity College, Cambridge, whose exact scholarship has been particularly valuable to me. On another side than that of scholarship I have derived the greatest benefit from the advice of my friend James Beddard, M.B., of Nottingham, who was among the first to help me to realise, and now does not suffer me to forget, what a book ought to be. The Index of References to the Gospels has also been made for me. The chapter on Marcion has already appeared, substantially in its present form, as a contribution to the Fortnightly Review. BARTON-ON-THE-HEATH, SHIPSTON-ON-STOUR, _November_, 1875. [Greek epigraph: Ta de panta elenchoumena hupo tou photos phaneroutai pan gar to phaneroumenon phos estin.] CHAPTER I. INTRODUCTORY. It would be natural in a work of this kind, which is a direct review of a particular book, to begin with an account of that book, and with some attempt to characterise it. Such had been my own intention, but there seems to be sufficient reason for pursuing a different course. On the one hand, an account of a book which has so recently appeared, which has been so fully reviewed, and which has excited so much attention, would appear to be superfluous; and, on the other hand, as the character of it has become the subject of somewhat sharp controversy, and as controversy-- or at least the controversial temper--is the one thing that I wish to avoid, I have thought it well on the whole to abandon my first intention, and to confine myself as much as possible to a criticism of the argument and subject-matter, with a view to ascertain the real facts as to the formation of the Canon of the four Gospels. I shall correct, where I am able to do so, such mistakes as may happen to come under my notice and have not already been pointed out by other reviewers, only dilating upon them where what seem to be false principles of criticism are involved. On the general subject of these mistakes--misleading references and the like--I think that enough has been said [Endnote 2:1]. Much is perhaps charged upon the individual which is rather due to the system of theological training and the habits of research that are common in England at the present day. Inaccuracies no doubt have been found, not a few. But, unfortunately, there is only one of our seats of learning where--in theology at least--the study of accuracy has quite the place that it deserves. Our best scholars and ablest men--with one or two conspicuous exceptions--do not write, and the work is left to be done by _littérateurs_ and clergymen or laymen who have never undergone the severe preliminary discipline which scientific investigation requires. Thus a low standard is set; there are but few sound examples to follow, and it is a chance whether the student's attention is directed to these at the time when his habits of mind are being formed. Again, it was claimed for 'Supernatural Religion' on its first appearance that it was impartial. The claim has been indignantly denied, and, I am afraid I must say, with justice. Any one conversant with the subject (I speak of the critical portion of the book) will see that it is deeply coloured by the author's prepossessions from beginning to end. Here again he has only imbibed the temper of the nation. Perhaps it is due to our political activity and the system of party-government that the spirit of party seems to have taken such a deep root in the English mind. An Englishman's political opinions are determined for him mainly (though sometimes in the way of reaction) by his antecedents and education, and his opinions on other subjects follow in their train. He takes them up with more of practical vigour and energy than breadth of reflection. There is a contagion of party-spirit in the air. And thus advocacy on one side is simply met by advocacy on the other. Such has at least been hitherto the history of English thought upon most great subjects. We may hope that at last this state of things is coming to an end. But until now, and even now, it has been difficult to find that quiet atmosphere in which alone true criticism can flourish. Let it not be thought that these few remarks are made in a spirit of censoriousness. They are made by one who is only too conscious of being subject to the very same conditions, and who knows not how far he may need indulgence on the same score himself. How far his own work is tainted with the spirit of advocacy it is not for him to say. He knows well that the author whom he has set himself to criticise is at least a writer of remarkable vigour and ability, and that he cannot lay claim to these qualities; but he has confidence in the power of truth--whatever that truth may be-- to assert itself in the end. An open and fair field and full and free criticism are all that is needed to eliminate the effects of individual strength or weakness. 'The opinions of good men are but knowledge in the making'--especially where they are based upon a survey of the original facts. Mistakes will be made and have currency for a time. But little by little truth emerges; it receives the suffrages of those who are competent to judge; gradually the controversy narrows; parts of it are closed up entirely, and a solid and permanent advance is made. * * * * * The author of 'Supernatural Religion' starts from a rigid and somewhat antiquated view of Revelation--Revelation is 'a direct and external communication by God to man of truths undiscoverable by human reason. The divine origin of this communication is proved by miracles. Miracles are proved by the record of Scripture, which, in its turn, is attested by the history of the Canon.--This is certainly the kind of theory which was in favour at the end of the last century, and found expression in works like Paley's Evidences. It belongs to a time of vigorous and clear but mechanical and narrow culture, when the philosophy of religion was made up of abrupt and violent contrasts; when Christianity (including under that name the Old Testament as well as the New) was thought to be simply true and all other religions simply false; when the revelation of divine truth was thought to be as sudden and complete as the act of creation; and when the presence of any local and temporary elements in the Christian documents or society was ignored. The world has undergone a great change since then. A new and far- reaching philosophy is gradually displacing the old. The Christian sees that evolution is as much a law of religion as of nature. The Ethnic, or non-Christian, religions are no longer treated as outside the pale of the Divine government. Each falls into its place as part of a vast divinely appointed scheme, of the character of which we are beginning to have some faint glimmerings. Other religions are seen to be correlated to Christianity much as the other tentative efforts of nature are correlated to man. A divine operation, and what from our limited human point of view we should call a _special_ divine operation, is not excluded but rather implied in the physical process by which man has been planted on the earth, and it is still more evidently implied in the corresponding process of his spiritual enlightenment. The deeper and more comprehensive view that we have been led to take as to the dealings of Providence has not by any means been followed by a depreciation of Christianity. Rather it appears on a loftier height than ever. The spiritual movements of recent times have opened men's eyes more and more to its supreme spiritual excellence. It is no longer possible to resolve it into a mere 'code of morals.' The Christian ethics grow organically out of the relations which Christianity assumes between God and man, and in their fulness are inseparable from those relations. The author of 'Supernatural Religion' speaks as if they were separable, as if a man could assume all the Christian graces merely by wishing to assume them. But he forgets the root of the whole Christian system, 'Except ye be converted and become as little children, ye shall in no case enter into the kingdom of heaven.' The old idea of the _Aufklärung_ that Christianity was nothing more than a code of morals, has now long ago been given up, and the self-complacency which characterised that movement has for the most part, though not entirely, passed away. The nineteenth century is not in very many quarters regarded as the goal of things. And it will hardly now be maintained that Christianity is adequately represented by any of the many sects and parties embraced under the name. When we turn from even the best of these, in its best and highest embodiment, to the picture that is put before us in the Gospels, how small does it seem! We feel that they all fall short of their ideal, and that there is a greater promise and potentiality of perfection in the root than has ever yet appeared in branch or flower. No doubt theology follows philosophy. The special conception of the relation of man to God naturally takes its colour from the wider conception as to the nature of all knowledge and the relation of God to the universe. It has been so in every age, and it must needs be so now. Some readjustment, perhaps a considerable readjustment, of theological and scientific beliefs may be necessary. But there is, I think, a strong presumption that the changes involved in theology will be less radical than often seems to be supposed. When we look back upon history, the world has gone through many similar crises before. The discoveries of Darwin and the philosophies of Mill or Hegel do not mark a greater relative advance than the discoveries of Newton and the philosophies of Descartes and Locke. These latter certainly had an effect upon theology. At one time they seemed to shake it to its base; so much so that Bishop Butler wrote in the Advertisement to the first edition of his Analogy that 'it is come to be taken for granted that Christianity is not so much as a subject of inquiry; but that it is now at length discovered to be fictitious.' Yet what do we see after a lapse of a hundred and forty years? It cannot be said that there is less religious life and activity now than there was then, or that there has been so far any serious breach in the continuity of Christian belief. An eye that has learnt to watch the larger movements of mankind will not allow itself to be disturbed by local oscillations. It is natural enough that some of our thinkers and writers should imagine that the last word has been spoken, and that they should be tempted to use the word 'Truth' as if it were their own peculiar possession. But Truth is really a much vaster and more unattainable thing. One man sees a fragment of it here and another there; but, as a whole, even in any of its smallest subdivisions, it exists not in the brain of any one individual, but in the gradual, and ever incomplete but ever self-completing, onward movement of the whole. 'If any man think that he knoweth anything, he knoweth nothing yet as he ought to know.' The forms of Christianity change, but Christianity itself endures. And it would seem as if we might well be content to wait until it was realised a little less imperfectly before we attempt to go farther afield. Yet the work of adaptation must be done. The present generation has a task of its own to perform. It is needful for it to revise its opinions in view of the advances that have been made both in general knowledge and in special theological criticism. In so far as 'Supernatural Religion' has helped to do this, it has served the cause of true progress; but its main plan and design I cannot but regard as out of date and aimed in the air. The Christian miracles, or what in our ignorance we call miracles, will not bear to be torn away from their context. If they are facts we must look at them in strict connection with that Ideal Life to which they seem to form the almost natural accompaniment. The Life itself is the great miracle. When we come to see it as it really is, and to enter, if even in some dim and groping way, into its inner recesses, we feel ourselves abashed and dumb. Yet this self-evidential character is found in portions of the narrative that are quite unmiraculous. These, perhaps, are in reality the most marvellous, though the miracles themselves will seem in place when their spiritual significance is understood and they are ranged in order round their common centre. Doubtless some elements of superstition may be mixed up in the record as it has come down to us. There is a manifest gap between the reality and the story of it. The Evangelists were for the most part 'Jews who sought after a sign.' Something of this wonder-seeking curiosity may very well have given a colour to their account of events in which the really transcendental element was less visible and tangible. We cannot now distinguish with any degree of accuracy between the subjective and the objective in the report. But that miracles, or what we call such, did in some shape take place, is, I believe, simply a matter of attested fact. When we consider it in its relation to the rest of the narrative, to tear out the miraculous bodily from the Gospels seems to me in the first instance a violation of history and criticism rather than of faith. Still the author of 'Supernatural Religion' is, no doubt, justified in raising the question, Did miracles really happen? I only wish to protest against the idea that such a question can be adequately discussed as something isolated and distinct, in which all that is necessary is to produce and substantiate the documents as in a forensic process. Such a 'world-historical' event (if I may for the moment borrow an expressive Germanism) as the founding of Christianity cannot be thrown into a merely forensic form. Considerations of this kind may indeed enter in, but to suppose that they can be justly estimated by themselves alone is an error. And it is still more an error to suppose that the riddle of the universe, or rather that part of the riddle which to us is most important, the religious nature of man and, the objective facts and relations that correspond to it, can all be reduced to some four or five simple propositions which admit of being proved or disproved by a short and easy Q.E.D. It would have been a far more profitable enquiry if the author had asked himself, What is Revelation? The time has come when this should be asked and an attempt to obtain a more scientific definition should be made. The comparative study of religions has gone far enough to admit of a comparison between the Ethnic religions and that which had its birth in Palestine--the religion of the Jews and Christians. Obviously, at the first blush, there is a difference: and that difference constitutes what we mean by Revelation. Let us have this as yet very imperfectly known quantity scientifically ascertained, without any attempt either to minimise or to exaggerate. I mean, let the field which Mr. Matthew Arnold has lately been traversing with much of his usual insight but in a light and popular manner, be seriously mapped out and explored. Pioneers have been at work, such as Dr. Kuenen, but not perhaps quite without a bias: let the same enquiry be taken up so widely as that the effects of bias may be eliminated; and instead of at once accepting the first crude results, let us wait until they are matured by time. This would be really fruitful and productive, and a positive addition to knowledge; but reasoning such as that in 'Supernatural Religion' is vitiated at the outset, because it starts with the assumption that we know perfectly well the meaning of a term of which our actual conception is vague and indeterminate in the extreme--Divine Revelation. [Endnote 10:1] With these reservations as to the main drift and bearing of the argument, we may however meet the author of 'Supernatural Religion' on his own ground. It is a part of the question--though a more subordinate part apparently than he seems to suppose--to decide whether miracles did or did not really happen. Even of this part too it is but quite a minor subdivision that is included in the two volumes of his work that have hitherto appeared. In the first place, merely as a matter of historical attestation, the Gospels are not the strongest evidence for the Christian miracles. Only one of the four, in its present shape, is claimed as the work of an Apostle, and of that the genuineness is disputed. The Acts of the Apostles stand upon very much the same footing with the Synoptic Gospels, and of this book we are promised a further examination. But we possess at least some undoubted writings of one who was himself a chief actor in the events which followed immediately upon those recorded in the Gospels; and in these undoubted writings St. Paul certainly shows by incidental allusions, the good faith of which cannot be questioned, that he believed himself to be endowed with the power of working miracles, and that miracles, or what were thought to be such, were actually wrought both by him and by his contemporaries. He reminds the Corinthians that 'the signs of an Apostle were wrought among them ... in signs, and wonders, and mighty deeds' ([Greek: en saemeious kai terasi kai dunamesi]--the usual words for the higher forms of miracle-- 2 Cor. xii. 12). He tells the Romans that 'he will not dare to speak of any of those things which Christ hath not wrought in him, to make the Gentiles obedient, by word and deed, through mighty signs and wonders, by the power of the Spirit of God' ([Greek: en dunamei saemeion kai teraton, en dunamei pneumator Theou], Rom. xv. 18, 19) He asks the Galatians whether 'he that ministereth to them the Spirit, and worketh miracles [Greek: ho energon dunameis] among them, doeth it by the works of the law, or by the hearing of faith?' (Gal. iii. 5). In the first Epistle to the Corinthians, he goes somewhat elaborately into the exact place in the Christian economy that is to be assigned to the working of miracles and gifts of healing (1 Cor. xii. 10, 28, 29). Besides these allusions, St. Paul repeatedly refers to the cardinal miracles of the Resurrection and Ascension; he refers to them as notorious and unquestionable facts at a time when such an assertion might have been easily refuted. On one occasion he gives a very circumstantial account of the testimony on which the belief in the Resurrection rested (1 Cor. xv. 4-8). And, not only does he assert the Resurrection as a fact, but he builds upon it a whole scheme of doctrine: 'If Christ be not risen,' he says, 'then is our preaching vain, and your faith is also vain.' We do not stay now to consider the exact philosophical weight of this evidence. It will be time enough to do this when it has received the critical discussion that may be presumed to be in store for it. But as external evidence, in the legal sense, it is probably the best that can be produced, and it has been entirely untouched so far. Again, in considering the evidence for the age of the Synoptic Gospels, that which is derived from external sources is only a part, and not perhaps the more important part, of the whole. It points backwards indeed, and we shall see with what amount of force and range. But there is still an interval within which only approximate conclusions are possible. These conclusions need to be supplemented from the phenomena of the documents themselves. In the relation of the Gospels to the growth of the Christian society and the development of Christian doctrine, and especially to the great turning-point in the history, the taking of Jerusalem, there is very considerable internal evidence for determining the date within which they must have been composed. It is well known that many critics, without any apologetic object, have found a more or less exact criterion in the eschatological discourses (Matt. xxiv, Mark xiii, Luke xxi. 5-36), and to this large additions may be made. As I hope some day to have an opportunity of discussing the whole question of the origin and composition of the Synoptic Gospels, I shall not go into this at present: but in the mean time it should be remembered that all these further questions lie in the background, and that in tracing the formation of the Canon of the Gospels the whole of the evidence for miracles--even from this _ab extra_ point of view--is very far from being exhausted. There is yet another remaining reason which makes the present enquiry of less importance than might be supposed, derived from the particular way in which the author has dealt with this external evidence. In order to explain the _prima facie_ evidence for our canonical Gospels, he has been compelled to assume the existence of other documents containing, so far as appears, the same or very similar matter. In other words, instead of four Gospels he would give us five or six or seven. I do not know that, merely as a matter of policy, and for apologetic purposes only, the best way to refute his conclusion would not be to admit his premisses and to insist upon the multiplication of the evidence for the facts of the Gospel history which his argument would seem to involve. I mention this however, not with any such object, but rather to show that the truth of Christianity is not intimately affected, and that there are no such great reasons for partiality on one side or on the other. I confess that it was a relief to me when I found that this must be the case. I do not think the time has come when the central question can be approached with any safety. Rough and ready methods (such as I am afraid I must call the first part of 'Supernatural Religion') may indeed cut the Gordian knot, but they do not untie it. A number of preliminary questions will have to be determined with a greater degree of accuracy and with more general consent than has been done hitherto. The Jewish and Christian literature of the century before and of the two centuries after the birth of Christ must undergo a more searching examination, by minds of different nationality and training, both as to the date, text, and character of the several books. The whole balance of an argument may frequently be changed by some apparently minute and unimportant discovery; while, at present, from the mere want of consent as to the data, the state of many a question is necessarily chaotic. It is far better that all these points should be discussed as disinterestedly as possible. No work is so good as that which is done without sight of the object to which it is tending and where the workman has only his measure and rule to trust to. I am glad to think that the investigation which is to follow may be almost, if not quite, classed in this category; and I hope I may be able to conduct it with sufficient impartiality. Unconscious bias no man can escape, but from conscious bias I trust I shall be free. CHAPTER II. ON QUOTATIONS GENERALLY IN THE EARLY CHRISTIAN WRITERS. The subject then proposed for our investigation is the extent to which the canonical Gospels are attested by the early Christian writers, or, in other words, the history of the process by which they became canonical. This will involve an enquiry into two things; first, the proof of the existence of the Gospels, and, secondly, the degree of authority attributed to them. Practically this second enquiry must be very subordinate to the first, because the data are much fewer; but it too shall be dealt with, cursorily, as the occasion arises, and we shall be in a position to speak upon it definitely before we conclude. It will be convenient to follow the example that is set us in 'Supernatural Religion,' and to take the first three, or Synoptic, Gospels separately from the fourth. * * * * * At the outset the question will occur to us, On what principle is the enquiry to be conducted? What sort of rule or standard are we to assume? In order to prove either the existence or the authority of the Gospels, it is necessary that we should examine the quotations from them, or what are alleged to be quotations from them, in the early writers. Now these quotations are notoriously lax. It will be necessary then to have some means of judging, what degree and kind of laxity is admissible; what does, and what does not, prevent the reference of a quotation to a given source. The author of 'Supernatural Religion,' indeed, has not felt the necessity for this preliminary step. He has taken up, as it were, at haphazard, the first standard that came to his hand; and, not unnaturally, this is found to be very much the standard of the present literary age, when both the mechanical and psychological conditions are quite different from those that prevailed at the beginning of the Christian era. He has thus been led to make a number of assertions which will require a great deal of qualification. The only sound and scientific method is to make an induction (if only a rough one) respecting the habit of early quotation generally, and then to apply it to the particular cases. Here there will be three classes of quotation more or less directly in point: (1) the quotations from the Old Testament in the New; (2) the quotations from the Old Testament in the same early writers whose quotations from the New Testament are the point in question; (3) quotations from the New Testament, and more particularly from the Gospels, in the writers subsequent to these, at a time when the Canon of the Gospels was fixed and we can be quite sure that our present Gospels are being quoted. This method of procedure however is not by any means so plain and straightforward as it might seem. The whole subject of Old Testament quotations is highly perplexing. Most of the quotations that we meet with are taken from the LXX version; and the text of that version was at this particular time especially uncertain and fluctuating. There is evidence to show that it must have existed in several forms which differed more or less from that of the extant MSS. It would be rash therefore to conclude at once, because we find a quotation differing from the present text of the LXX, that it differed from that which was used by the writer making the quotation. In some cases this can be proved from the same writer making the same quotation more than once and differently each time, or from another writer making it in agreement with our present text. But in other cases it seems probable that the writer had really a different text before him, because he quotes it more than once, or another writer quotes it, with the same variation. This however is again an uncertain criterion; for the second writer may be copying the first, or he may be influenced by an unconscious reminiscence of what the first had written. The early Christian writers copied each other to an extent that we should hardly be prepared for. Thus, for instance, there is a string of quotations in the first Epistle of Clement of Rome (cc. xiv, xv)--Ps. xxxvii. 36-38; Is. xxix. 13; Ps. lxii. 4, lxxviii. 36, 37, xxxi, 19, xii. 3-6; and these very quotations in the same order reappear in the Alexandrine Clement (Strom. iv. 6). Clement of Alexandria is indeed fond of copying his Roman namesake, and does so without acknowledgment. Tertullian and Epiphanius in like manner drew largely from the works of Irenaeus. But this confuses evidence that would otherwise be clear. For instance, in Eph. iv. 8 St. Paul quotes Ps. lxviii. 19, but with a marked variation from all the extant texts of the LXX. Thus:-- _Ps._ lxviii. 18 (19). [Greek: Anabas eis hupsos aechmaloteusas aichmalosian, elabes domata en anthropon.] [Greek: Aechmaloteusen ... en anthropon] [Hebrew: alef], perhaps from assimilation to N.T. _Eph._ iv. 8. [Greek: Anabas eis hupsos aechmaltoteusen aichmalosian, kai edoke domata tois anthropois.] [Greek: kai] om. [Hebrew: alef]'1, A C'2 D'1, &c. It. Vulg. Memph. &c.; ins. B C'3 D'3 [Hebrew: alef]'4, &c. Now we should naturally think that this was a very free quotation--so free that it substitutes 'giving' for 'receiving.' A free quotation perhaps it may be, but at any rate the very same variation is found in Justin (Dial. 39). And, strange to say, in five other passages which are quoted variantly by St. Paul, Justin also agrees with him, [Endnote 18:1] though cases on the other hand occur where Justin differs from St. Paul or holds a position midway between him and the LXX (e.g. 1 Cor. i. 19 compared with Just. Dial. cc. 123, 32, 78, where will be found some curious variations, agreement with LXX, partial agreement with LXX, partial agreement with St. Paul). Now what are we to say to these phenomena? Have St. Paul and Justin both a variant text of the LXX, or is Justin quoting mediately through St. Paul? Probability indeed seems to be on the side of the latter of these two alternatives, because in one place (Dial. cc. 95, 96) Justin quotes the two passages Deut. xxvii. 26 and Deut. xxi. 23 consecutively, and applies them just as they are applied in Gal. iii. 10, 13 [Endnote 18:2]. On the other hand, it is somewhat strange that Justin nowhere refers to the Epistles of St. Paul by name, and that the allusions to them in the genuine writings, except for these marked resemblances in the Old Testament quotations, are few and uncertain. The same relation is observed between the Pauline Epistles and that of Clement of Rome. In two places at least Clement agrees, or nearly agrees, with St. Paul, where both differ from the LXX; in c. xiii ([Greek: ho kanchomenos en Kurio kanchastho]; compare 1 Cor. i. 31, 2 Cor. x, 16), and in c. xxxiv ([Greek: ophthalmhos ouk eiden k.t.l.]; compare 1 Cor. ii. 9). Again, in c. xxxvi Clement has the [Greek: puros phloga] of Heb. i. 7 for [Greek: pur phlegon] of the LXX. The rest of the parallelisms in Clement's Epistle are for the most part with Clement of Alexandria, who had evidently made a careful study of his predecessor. In one place, c. liii, there is a remarkable coincidence with Barnabas ([Greek: Mousae Mousae katabaethi to tachos k.t.l.]; compare Barn. cc. iv and xiv). In the Epistle of Barnabas itself there is a combined quotation from Gen. xv. 6, xvii. 5, which has evidently and certainly been affected by Rom. iv. 11. On the whole we may lean somewhat decidedly to the hypothesis of a mutual study of each other by the Christian writers, though the other hypothesis of the existence of different versions (whether oral and traditional or in any shape written) cannot be excluded. Probably both will have to be taken into account to explain all the facts. Another disturbing influence, which will affect especially the quotations in the Gospels, is the possibility, perhaps even probability, that many of these are made, not directly from either Hebrew or LXX, but from or through Targums. This would seem to be the case especially with the remarkable applications of prophecy in St. Matthew. It must be admitted as possible that the Evangelist has followed some Jewish interpretation that seemed to bear a Christian construction. The quotation in Matt. ii. 6, with its curious insertion of the negative ([Greek: oudamos elachistae] for [Greek: oligostos]), reappears identically in Justin (Dial. c. 78). We shall probably have to touch upon this quotation when we come to consider Justin's relations to the canonical Gospels. It certainly seems upon the face of it the more probable supposition that he has here been influenced by the form of the text in St. Matthew, but he may be quoting from a Targum or from a peculiar text. Any induction, then, in regard to the quotations from the LXX version will have to be used with caution and reserve. And yet I think it will be well to make such an induction roughly, especially in regard to the Apostolic Fathers whose writings we are to examine. * * * * * The quotations from the Old Testament in the New have, as it is well known, been made the subject of a volume by Mr. McCalman Turpie [Endnote 20:1], which, though perhaps not quite reaching a high level of scholarship, has yet evidently been put together with much care and pains, and will be sufficient for our purpose. The summary result of Mr. Turpie's investigation is this. Out of two hundred and seventy-five in all which may be considered to be quotations from the Old Testament, fifty-three agree literally both with the LXX and the Hebrew, ten with the Hebrew and not with the LXX, and thirty-seven with the LXX and not with the Hebrew, making in all just a hundred that are in literal (or nearly literal, for slight variations of order are not taken into account) agreement with some still extant authority. On the other hand, seventy-six passages differ both from the Hebrew and LXX where the two are together, ninety-nine differ from them where they diverge, and besides these, three, though introduced with marks of quotation, have no assignable original in the Old Testament at all. Leaving them for the present out of the question, we have a hundred instances of agreement against a hundred and seventy-five of difference; or, in other words, the proportion of difference to agreement is as seven to four. This however must be taken with the caution given above; that is to say, it must not at once be inferred that because the quotation differs from extant authority therefore it necessarily differs from all non-extant authority as well. It should be added that the standard of agreement adopted by Mr. Turpie is somewhat higher than would be naturally held to be sufficient to refer a passage to a given source. His lists must therefore be used with these limitations. Turning to them, we find that most of the possible forms of variation are exemplified within the bounds of the Canon itself. I proceed to give a few classified instances of these. [Greek: Alpha symbol] _Paraphrase_. Many of the quotations from the Old Testament in the New are highly paraphrastic. We may take the following as somewhat marked examples: Matt. ii. 6, xii. 18-21, xiii. 35, xxvii. 9, 10; John viii. 17, xii. 40, xiii. 18; 1 Cor. xiv. 21; 2 Cor. ix. 7. Matt. xxvii. 9, 10 would perhaps mark an extreme point in freedom of quotation [Endnote 21:1], as will be seen when it is compared with the original:-- _Matt_. xxvii. 9. 10. [Greek: [tote eplaerothae to phaethen dia tou prophaetou Hieremiou legontos] Kai elabon ta triakonta arguria, taen timaen tou tetimaemenou on etimaesanto apo nion Israael, kai edokan auta eis ton argon tou kerameos, katha sunetaxen moi Kurios.] _Zech_. xi. 13. [Greek: Kathes autous eis to choneutaerion, kai schepsomai ei dokimon estin, de tropon edokiamistheaen huper aotuon. Kai elabon tous triakonta argurous kai enebalon autous eis oikon Kuriou eis to choneutaerion.] It can hardly be possible that the Evangelist has here been influenced by any Targum or version. The form of his text has apparently been determined by the historical event to which the prophecy is applied. The sense of the original has been entirely altered. There the prophet obeys the command to put the thirty pieces of silver, which he had received as his shepherd's hire, into the treasury [Greek: choneutaerion]. Here the hierarchical party refuse to put them into the treasury. The word 'potter' seems to be introduced from the Hebrew. [Greek: Beta symbol] _Quotations from Memory_. Among the numerous paraphrastic quotations, there are some that have specially the appearance of having been made from memory, such as Acts vii. 37; Rom. ix. 9, 17, 25, 33, x. 6-8, xi. 3, xii. 19, xiv. 11; 1 Cor. i. 19, ii. 9; Rev. ii. 27. Of course it must always be a matter of guess-work what is quoted from memory and what is not, but in these quotations (and in others which are ranged under different heads) there is just that general identity of sense along with variety of expression which usually characterises such quotations. A simple instance would be-- _Rom_. ix. 25. [Greek: [hos kai en to Osaee legei] Kaleso ton out laon mou laon mou kai taen ouk aegapaemenaen haegapaemenaen.] _Hosea_ ii. 23. [Greek: Kai agapaeso taen ouk aegapaemenaen, kai ero to ou lao mou Daos mou ei se.] [Greek: Gamma symbol] _Paraphrase with Compression._ There are many marked examples of this; such as Matt. xxii. 24 (par.); Mark iv. 12; John xii. 14, 15; Rom. iii. 15-17, x. 15; Heb. xii. 20. Take the first:-- _Matt._ xxii. 24. [Greek: [Mousaes eipen] Ean tis apothanae mae echon tekna, epigambreusei o adelphos autou taen gunaika autou kai anastaesei sperma to adelpho autou.] _Deut._ xxv. 5. [Greek: Ean de katoikosin adelphoi epi to auto, kai apothanae eis ex auton, sperma de mae ae auto, ouk estai ae gunae tou tethnaekotos exo andri mae engizonti o adelphos tou andros autaes eiseleusetai pros autaen kai laepsetai autaen eauto gunaika kai sunoikaesei autae.] It is highly probable that all the examples given under this head are really quotations from memory. [Greek: Delta symbol] _Paraphrase with Combination of Passages._ This again is common; e.g. Luke iv. 19; John xv. 25, xix. 36; Acts xiii. 22; Rom. iii. 11-18, ix. 33, xi. 8; 1 Pet. ii. 24. The passage Rom. iii. 11-18 is highly composite, and reminds us of long strings of quotations that are found in some of the Fathers; it is made up of Ps. xiv. 1, 2, v. 9, cxl. 3, x. 7, Is. lix. 7, 8, Ps. xxxvi. 1. A shorter example is-- _Rom._ ix. 33. [Greek: [Kathos gegraptai] Idou tithaemi en Sion lithon proskommatos kai petran skandalou, kai o pisteuon ep auto ou kataischunthaesetai.] _Is._ viii. 14. [Greek: kai ouch hos lithou proskammati sunantaesesthe, oude os petras ptomati.] _Is._ xxviii. 16. [Greek: Idou ego emballo eis ta themelia Sion lithon..., kai o pisteuon ou mae kataischunthae.] This fusion of passages is generally an act of 'unconscious celebration.' If we were to apply the standard assumed in 'Supernatural Religion,' it would be pronounced impossible that this and most of the passages above could have the originals to which they are certainly to be referred. [Greek: Epsilon symbol] _Addition._ A few cases of addition may be quoted, e.g. [Greek: mae aposteraesaes] inserted in Mark x. 19, [Greek: kai eis thaeran] in Rom. xi. 9. [Greek: Zeta symbol] _Change of Sense and Context._ But little regard--or what according to our modern habits would be considered little regard--is paid to the sense and original context of the passage quoted; e.g. in Matt. viii. 17 the idea of healing disease is substituted for that of vicarious suffering, in Matt. xi. 10 the persons are altered ([Greek: sou] for [Greek: mou]), in Acts vii. 43 we find [Greek: Babylonos] for [Greek: Damaskos], in 2 Cor. vi. 17 'I will receive you' is put for 'I will go before you,' in Heb. i. 7 'He maketh His angels spirits' for 'He maketh the winds His messengers.' This constant neglect of the context is a point that should be borne in mind. [Greek: Eta symbol] _Inversion._ Sometimes the sense of the original is so far departed from that a seemingly opposite sense is substituted for it. Thus in Matt. ii. 6 [Greek: oudamos elachistae = oligostos] of Mic. v. 2, in Rom. xi. 26 [Greek: ek Sion = heneken Sion] LXX= '_to_ Sion' Heb. of Is. lix. 20, in Eph. iv. 8 [Greek: hedoken domata = helabes domata] of Ps. lxvii. 19. [Greek: Theta symbol] _Different Form of Sentence._ The grammatical form of the sentence is altered in Matt. xxvi. 31 (from aorist to future), in Luke viii. 10 (from oratio recta to oratio obliqua), and in 1 Pet. iii. 10-12 (from the second person to the third). This is a kind of variation that we should naturally look for. [Greek: Iota symbol] _Mistaken Ascriptions or Nomenclature._ The following passages are wrongly assigned:--Mal. iii. 1 to Isaiah according to the correct reading of Mark i. 2, and Zech. xi. 13 to Jeremiah in Matt. xxvii. 9, 10; Abiathar is apparently put for Abimelech in Mark ii. 26; in Acts vii. 16 there seems to be a confusion between the purchase of Machpelah near Hebron by Abraham and Jacob's purchase of land from Hamor the father of Shechem. These are obviously lapses of memory. [Greek: Kappa symbol] _Quotations of Doubtful Origin_. There are a certain number of quotations, introduced as such, which can be assigned directly to no Old Testament original; Matt. ii. 23 ([Greek: Nazoraios klaethaesetai]), 1 Tim. v. 18 ('the labourer is worthy of his hire'), John vii. 38 ('out of his belly shall flow rivers of living water'), 42 (Christ should be born of Bethlehem where David was), Eph. v. 14 ('Awake thou that sleepest'). [Endnote 25:1] It will be seen that, in spite of the reservations that we felt compelled to make at the outset, the greater number of the deviations noticed above can only be explained on a theory of free quotation, and remembering the extent to which the Jews relied upon memory and the mechanical difficulties of exact reference and verification, this is just what before the fact we should have expected. * * * * * The Old Testament quotations in the canonical books afford us a certain parallel to the object of our enquiry, but one still nearer will of course be presented by the Old Testament quotations in those books the New Testament quotations in which we are to investigate. I have thought it best to draw up tables of these in order to give an idea of the extent and character of the variation. In so tentative an enquiry as this, the standard throughout will hardly be so fixed and accurate as might be desirable; the tabular statement therefore must be taken to be approximate, but still I think it will be found sufficient for our purpose; certain points come out with considerable clearness, and there is always an advantage in drawing data from a wide enough area. The quotations are ranged under heads according to the degree of approximation to the text of the LXX. In cases where the classification has seemed doubtful an indicatory mark (+) has been used, showing by the side of the column on which it occurs to which of the other two classes the instance leans. All cases in which this sign is used to the left of the middle column may be considered as for practical purposes literal quotations. It may be assumed, where the contrary is not stated, that the quotations are direct and not of the nature of allusions; the marks of quotation are generally quite unmistakeable ([Greek: gegraptai, legei, eipen], &c). Brief notes are added in the margin to call attention to the more remarkable points, especially to the repetition of the same quotation in different writers and to the apparent bearing of the passage upon the general habit of quotation. Taking the Apostolic Fathers in order, we come first to-- _Clement of Rome (1 Ep. ad Cor._) _Exact._ | _Slightly | _Variant._ | _Remarks._ | Variant._ | | | |3 Deut. 32.14,15. |also in Justin, | | Is. 3.5. al. | differently. | | Is. 59. 14, al. | 3. Wisd. 2.24. | | | |+4. Gen. 4.3-8. | |Acts 7.27, | Ex. 2.14+ | | more exactly. 6. Gen. 2.23. | |8. Ezek. 33.11 |} | | Ezek. 18.30 |}from Apocryphal | | Ps. 103.10,11. |} or interpolated | | Jer. 3.19,22. |} Ezekiel? | | Is. 1.18. |} |+8. Is. 1.16-20. | | |10. Gen. 12.1-3. | | | +Gen. 13.14-16. | | | Gen. 15.5,6. | | | |12. Josh. 2.3-19. |compression and | | | paraphrase. | | | | |13. 1 Sam. 2,10. |}similarly | | Jer. 9.23,24. |} St. Paul, 1 Cor. | | | 1.31, 2 Cor. |13. Is. 46.2. | | 10.17. | |14. Prov. 2.21, |from memory? | | 22. v.l. (Ps. 37.| | | 39.) | |14. Ps. 37.35-38.| |Matt. 15.8, Mark | |15. Is. 29.13.* | 7.6, with par- 15.{Ps. 78.36,37.*|15. Ps. 62.4.* | | tial similarity, {Ps. 31.19.* | | | Clem. Alex., {Ps. 12.3-6.* | | | following Clem. | | | Rom. |+16. Is. 53.1-12.| |quoted in full by 16. Ps. 22.6-8. | | | Justin, also by 17. Gen. 18.27. | | | other writers | | | with text | | | slightly | | | different from | | | Clement. | |17. Job 1.1, v.l. | | | Job 14.4,5, v.l.|Clem. Alex. | | | similarly. |17. Num. 12.7. | | | Ex. 3.11; 4-10.| | | |[Greek: ego de |_Assumptio Mosis_, | | eimi atmis apo | Hilg., _Eldad | | kuthras.] | and Modad_, Lft. | | | | |18. Ps. 89.21,v.l.|}Clem. Alex. as | | 1 Sam. 13.14. |} LXX. 18. Ps. 51.1-17. | | | | |20. Job 38.11. | | |21. Prov. 15.27. |Clem. Alex. | | | similarly; from | | | memory? [Greek: 22. Ps. 34.11-17. | | | legei gar pou.] | |23. [Greek: |from an Apo- | | palaiporoi eisin | cryphal book, | | oi dipsuchoi | _Ass. Mos._ or | | k.t.l.] | _Eld. and Mod._ | | | | |23. Is. 13.22. |}composition and | | Mal. 3.1. |} compression. | | | | |26. Ps. 28.7. |}composition | | Ps. 3-5. |} from memory? | | | [Greek: legei | | | gar pou.] | |27. Wisd. 12.12. |}from memory? | | Wisd. 11.22. |} cp. Eph. 1.19. P27. Ps. 19.1-3. | | | | |28. Ps. 139.7-10. |from memory? | | |[Greek: legei | | | gar pou.] 29. Deut. 32.8,9. | | | | |29. Deut. 4.34. |}from memory? | | Deut. 14.2. |} or from an | | Num. 18.27. |} Apocryphal | | 2 Chron. 31. |} Book? | | 14. |} | | Ezek. 48.12. |} |30. Prov. 3.34. | | 30. Job. 11.2,3. | | |LXX, not Heb. | |32. Gen. 15.5 | | | (Gen. 22.17. | | | Gen. 26.4.) | |33. Gen. 1.26-28.|(omissions.) | | |34. Is. 40.10. |}composition | | Is. 62.11. |} from memory? | | Prov. 24.12. |} Clem. Alex. | | | after Clem. | | | Rom. |34. Dan. 7.10. |} |curiously | Is. 6.3+. |} | repeated | | | transposition; | | | see Lightfoot, | | | _ad. loc._ | |24. Is. 64.4. |so in 1 Cor. 2.9. |35. Ps. 50.16-23.| | |36. Ps.104.4,v.l.| |Heb. 1.7. 36. Ps. 2.7,8. | | |Heb. 1.5. Acts Ps. 110.1 | | | 13.33. |39. Job 4.16-5.5 | | | (Job 15.15) | | | |42. Is. 60.17. |from memory? | | | [Greek: legei | | | gar pou.] | |46. [Greek: |from Apocryphal | | Kollasthe tois | book, or Ecclus. | | agiois hoti oi | vi. 34? Clem. | | kollomenoi | Alex. | | autois | | | hagiasthaesontai]| 46. Ps. 18.26,27. | | |context ignored. 48. Ps. 118,19,20.| | |Clem. Alex. | | | loosely. | |50. Is. 26.20. |} | | Ezek. 37.12. |}from memory? 50. Ps. 32. 1,2. | | | | |52. Ps. 69.31,32. | 52. Ps. 50.14,15.+|} | | Ps. 51.17. |} | | |53. Deut.9.12-14.|} |Barnabas | Ex. 32.7,8. |} | similarly. | 11,31,32. |} | Compression. 54. Ps. 241. | | | 56. Ps. 118.18. | | | Prov. 3.12. | | | Ps. 141.5. | | | |+56. Job 5.17-26,| | | v.l. | | |+57. Prov. 1.23- | | | 31. | | [*Footnote: The quotations in this chapter are continuous, and are also found in Clement of Alexandria.] It will be observed that the longest passages are among those that are quoted with the greatest accuracy (e.g. Gen. xiii. 14-16; Job v. 17-26; Ps. xix. 1-3, xxii. 6-8, xxxiv. 11-17, li. 1-17; Prov. i. 23-31; Is. i. 16-20, liii. 1-12). Others, such as Gen. xii. 1-3, Deut. ix. 12-14, Job iv. 16-v. 5, Ps. xxxvii. 35-38, l. 16-23, have only slight variations. There are only two passages of more than three consecutive verses in length that present wide divergences. These are, Ps. cxxxix. 7-10, which is introduced by a vague reference [Greek: legei gar pou] and is evidently quoted from memory, and the historical narration Josh. ii. 3-19. This is perhaps what we should expect: in longer quotations it would be better worth the writer's while to refer to his cumbrous manuscript. These purely mechanical conditions are too much lost sight of. We must remember that the ancient writer had not a small compact reference Bible at his side, but, when he wished to verify a reference, would have to take an unwieldy roll out of its case, and then would not find it divided into chapter and verse like our modern books but would have only the columns, and those perhaps not numbered, to guide him. We must remember too that the memory was much more practised and relied upon in ancient times, especially among the Jews. The composition of two or more passages is frequent, and the fusion remarkably complete. Of all the cases in which two passages are compounded, always from different chapters and most commonly from different books, there is not, I believe, one in which there is any mark of division or an indication of any kind that a different source is being quoted from. The same would hold good (with only a slight and apparent exception) of the longer strings of quotations in cc. viii, xxix, and (from [Greek: aegapaesan] to [Greek: en auto]) in c. xv. But here the question is complicated by the possibility, and in the first place at least perhaps probability, that the writer is quoting from some apocryphal work no longer extant. It may be interesting to give one or two short examples of the completeness with which the process of welding has been carried out. Thus in c. xvii, the following reply is put into the mouth of Moses when he receives his commission at the burning bush, [Greek: tis eimi ego hoti me pempeis; ego de eimi ischnophonos kai braduglossos.] The text of Exod. iii. 11 is [Greek: tis eimi ego, oti poreusomai;] the rest of the quotation is taken from Exod. iv. 10. In c. xxxiv Clement introduces 'the Scripture' as saying, [Greek: Muriai muriades pareistaekeisan auto kai chiliai chiliades eleitourgoun auto kai ekekragon agios, agios, agios, Kurios Sabaoth, plaeraes pasa hae ktisis taes doxaes autou.] The first part of this quotation comes from Dan. vii. 10; the second, from [Greek: kai ekekragon], which is part of the quotation, from Is. vi. 3. These examples have been taken almost at random; the others are blended quite as thoroughly. Some of the cases of combination and some of the divergences of text may be accounted for by the assumption of lost apocryphal books or texts; but it would be wholly impossible, and in fact no one would think of so attempting to account for all. There can be little doubt that Clement quotes from memory, and none that he quotes at times very freely. We come next to the so-called Epistle of Barnabas, the quotations in which I proceed to tabulate in the same way:-- _Barnabas._ _Exact._ | _Slightly | _Variant._ | _Remarks._ | Variant._ | | |+2. Is. 1.11-14. | |note for exactness. | |2. Jer. 7.22,23. |} combination | | Zec. 8.17. |} from memory? | | Ps. 51.19. |strange addition. |3. Is. 58.4, 5. | | | Is. 58.6-10. | | | |4. Dan. 7.24 |}very | | Dan. 7.7, 8. |} divergent. | | Ex. 34.28. |}combination | | Ex. 31.18. |} from memory? |4. Deut. 9.12. | |see below. | (Ex. 32.7). | | | +Is. 5.21. | | |+5. Is. 54.5,7. | |text of Cod. A. | (omissions.)| | 5. Prov. 1.17. | | | Gen. 1.26+. | | | | |5. Zech. 13.7. |text of A. (Hilg.) | | | Matt. 26.3. | | Ps. 22.21. |from memory? |5. Ps. 119.120. | |paraphrastic | | Ps. 22.17. | combination | | | from memory? | Is. 50. 6,7. | | | (omissions.) | |ditto. | |6. Is. 50.8,9. |ditto. |6. Is. 28.16. | |first clause | | | exact, second | | | variant; in N.T. | | | quotations, | | | first variant, | | | second exact. | Is. 50.7. | |note repetition, | | | nearer to LXX. 6. Ps. 118.22. | | |so Matt. 21.42; | | | 1 Pet. 11.7. | | | 6. Ps. 22.17+ | |6. Ps. 118.24. |from memory? (order). | | |note repetition, | | | nearer to LXX. Ps. 118.12. | | | Ps. 22.19. | | | Is. 3.9, 10. | | | | | Ex. 33.1. |from memory? | Gen. 1.26+. | |note repetition, Gen. 1.28. | | | further from LXX. | | Ezek. 11.19; |paraphrastic. | | 36.26. | | | Ps. 41.3. | | | Ps. 22.23. |different version? | | Gen. 1.26, 28. |paraphrastic | | | fusion. | |7. Lev. 23.29. |paraphrastic. | | Lev. 16.7, sqq.|with apocryphal | | Lev. 16.7. sqq.| addition; cp. | | | Just. and Tert. |9. Ps. 18.44. | | 9. Is. 33.13+. | | | | |9. Jer. 4.4. | | | Jer. 7.2. | | | Ps. 34.13. | Is. 1.2. | | |but with additions. | Is. 1.10+. | |from memory? | | |[Greek: archontes | | | toutou] for [Gr. | | | a. Zodomon.] | | Is. 40.3. |addition. | | Jer. 4.3 ,4. |}repetition, | | Jer. 7.26. |} nearer to LXX. | | Jer. 9.26. | | | Gen. 17.26, 27;|inferred sense | | cf. 14.14. | merely, but | | | with marks of | | | quotation. | |10. Lev. 11, |selected examples, | | Deut. 14. | but with | | | examples of | | | quotation. | | Deut. 4.1. | 10. Ps. 1.1. | | | | | Lev. 11.3. | | |11. Jer. 2.12, 13.| | | +Is. 16.1, 2. |[Greek: Zina] for | | | [Greek: Zion]. |11. Is. 45. 2, 3.| |[Greek: gnosae] A. | | | ([Greek: gnosin] | | | Barn., but in | | | other points more | | | divergent. |+Is. 33.16-18. | |omissions. 11. Ps. 1.3-6. | | |note for exactness. | |11. Zeph. 3.19. |markedly diverse. | | Ezek. 47.12. |ditto. |12. Is. 65.2. | | | |12. Num. 21.9, |apparently a | | sqq. | quotation. | | Deut. 27.15. |from memory? | | Ex. 17.14. | 12. Ps. 110.1. | | | |12. Is. 45.1. | |[Greek: kurio] for | | | [Greek: kuro]. |13. Gen.25.21,23.| | | |13. Gen. 48.11-19.|very paraphrastic. | | Gen. 15.6; |combination; cf. | | 17.5. | Rom. 4.11. | |14. Ex. 24.18. |note addition of | | |[Greek: naesteuon.] | | Ex. 31.18. |note also for | | | additions. |14. Deut. 9.12- | |repetition with | 17+. | | similar variation. | (Ex. 32.7.) | |note reading of A. 14. Is. 42.6,7. | | |[Greek: | | |pepedaemenous] for | | |[Greek: dedemenous | | |(kai] om. A.). | Is. 49.6,7. | | Is. 61. 1,2. | | |Luke. 4.18,19 | | | diverges. | |15. Ex. 20.8; |paraphrastic, | | Deut. 5.12. | with addition. | | Jer. 17.24,25.|very paraphrastic. | | Gen. 2.2. | | | Ps. 90.4. |[Greek: saemeron] | | | for [Greek: | | | exthes]. 15. Is. 1.13. | | | |16. Is. 40.12. | |omissions. | Is. 66.1. | | | |16. Is. 49.17. |completely | | | paraphrastic. | | Dan. 9.24. |ditto. | | 25, 27. | The same remarks that were made upon Clement will hold also for Barnabas, except that he permits himself still greater licence. The marginal notes will have called attention to his eccentricities. He is carried away by slight resemblances of sound; e.g. he puts [Greek: himatia] for [Greek: iamata] [Endnote 34:1], [Greek: Zina] for [Greek: Zion], [Greek: Kurio] for [Greek: Kuro]. He not only omits clauses, but also adds to the text freely; e.g. in Ps. li. 19 he makes the strange insertion which is given in brackets, [Greek: Thusia to Theo kardia suntetrimmenae, [osmae euodias to kurio kardia doxasousa ton peplakota autaen]]. He has also added words and clauses in several other places. There can be no question that he quotes largely from memory; several of his quotations are repeated more than once (Deu. ix. 12; Is. l. 7; Ps. xxii. 17; Gen. i. 28; Jer. iv. 4); and of these only one, Deut. ix. 12, reappears in the same form. Often he gives only the sense of a passage; sometimes he interprets, as in Is. i. 10, where he paraphrases [Greek: archontes Sodomon] by the simpler [Greek: archontes tou laou toutou]. He has curiously combined the sense of Gen. xvii. 26, 27 with Gen. xiv. l4--in the pursuit of the four kings, it is said that Abraham armed his servants three hundred and eighteen men; Barnabas says that he circumcised his household, in all three hundred and eighteen men. In several cases a resemblance may be noticed between Barnabas and the text of Cod. A, but this does not appear consistently throughout. It may be well to give a few examples of the extent to which Barnabas can carry his freedom of quotation. Instances from the Book of Daniel should perhaps not be given, as the text of that book is known to have been in a peculiarly corrupt and unsettled state; so much so that, when translation of Theodotion was made towards the end of the second century, it was adopted as the standard text. Barnabas also combines passages, though not quite to such an extent or so elaborately as Clement, and he too inserts no mark of division. We will give an example of this, and at the same time of his paraphrastic method of quotation:-- _Barnabas_ c. ix. [Greek: [kai ti legei;] Peritmaethaete to sklaeron taes kardias humon, kai ton trachaelon humon ou mae sklaerunaete.] _Jer._ iv. 3, 4 _and_ vii. 26. [Greek: Peritmaethaete to theo humon, kai peritemesthe taen sklaerokardian humon ... kai esklaerunan ton trachaelon auton...] A similar case of paraphrase and combination, with nothing to mark the transition from one passage to the other, would be in c. xi, Jer. ii. 12, 13 and Is. xvi. 1, 2. For paraphrase we may take this, from the same chapter:-- _Barnabas_ c. xi. [Greek: [kai palin heteros prophaetaes legei] Kai aen hae gae Iakob epainoumenae para pasan taen gaen.] _Zeph_. iii. 19. [Greek: kai thaesomai autous eis kauchaema kai onomastous en pasae tae gae.] _Barnabas_ c. xv. [Greek: [autous de moi marturei legon] Idou saemeron haemera estai hos chilia etae.] _Ps_. xc. 4 [Greek: hoti chilia etae en ophthalmois sou hos hae haemera hae echthes haetis diaelthe.] A very curious instance of freedom is the long narrative of Jacob blessing the two sons of Joseph in c. xiii (compare Gen. xlviii. 11-19). We note here (and elsewhere) a kind of dramatic tendency, a fondness for throwing statements into the form of dialogue rather than narrative. As a narrative this passage may be compared with the history of Rahab and the spies in Clement. And yet, in spite of all this licence in quotation, there are some rather marked instances of exactness; e.g. Is. i. 11-14 in c. ii, the combined passages from Ps. xxii. 17, cxvii. 12, xxii. 19 in c. vi, and Ps. i. 3-6 in c. xi. It should also be remembered that in one case, Deut. ix. 12 in cc. iv and xiv, the same variation is repeated and is also found in Justin. It tallies with what we should expect, supposing the writings attributed to Ignatius (the seven Epistles) to be genuine, that the quotations from the Old as well as from the New Testament in them are few and brief. A prisoner, travelling in custody to the place of execution, would naturally not fill his letters with long and elaborate references. The quotations from the Old Testament are as follows:-- _Exact._ | _Slightly | _Variant._ | _Remarks._ | variant._ | | | | | _Ad Eph._ |5. Prov. 3.34 | |James. 4.6, 1 Pet. 5.5, | | | as Ignatius. | | | _Ad Magn._ |12. Prov. 18.17. | | | | | _Ad Trall._ | |8. Is. 52.5. | The Epistle to the Ephesians is found also in the Syriac version. The last quotation from Isaiah, which is however not introduced with any express marks of reference, is very freely given. The original is, [Greek: tade legei kurios, di' humas dia pantos to onoma mou blasphaemeitai en tois ethnesi], for which Ignatius has, [Greek: ouai gar di' ou epi mataiotaeti to onoma mou epi tinon blasphaemeitai]. The Epistle of Polycarp to the Philippians and the Martyrium S. Ignatii contain the following quotations:-- _Exact._ | _Slightly | _Variant._ | _Remarks._ | variant._ | | | | | Polycarp, | 2. Ps. 2.11. | | _Ad. Phil._ | | | | | | 10. Tob. 4.11. | | |} 12. Ps. 4.4; | | |}in Latin but through | | |} version only. Eph. 4.26. | | |} | | | _Mart. S. Ign._ | | | | |2. Lev. 26.12. | 6. Prov. 10.24. | | | The quotation from Leviticus differs widely from the original, [Greek: Kai emperipataeso en humin kai esomai humon theos kai humeis esesthe moi laos], for which we read, [Greek: [gegraptai gar] Enoikaeso en autois kai emperipataeso]. The quotations from the Clementine Homilies may be thus presented:-- _Exact._ | _Slightly | _Variant._ | _Remarks._ | | | Hom. 3. | |18. Deut. 32.7. | |39. +Gen. 18.21. | | | Gen. 3.22. | | 39. Gen 6.6. | | | | Gen. 8.21. | |omission. | Gen. 22.1. | | | |42. Gen. 3.3. | 43. Gen. 6.6. | | | |43. Gen. 22.1. | |not quite as above. | +Gen. 18.21. | |as above. Gen. 15.13-16. | | |v.l. comp. text | | | of A; note for | | | exactness. 44. Gen. 18.21. | | |as LXX. | |45. Num. 11.34 |[Greek: bounoun | | (al.) | epithumion] for | | | [Greek: mnaemata | | | taes epithumas]. |47. Deut. 34.4,5.| | |49. Gen. 49.10. | |cf. Credner, | | | _Beit._ 2.53. Hom. 11. | | | 22. Gen. 1.1. | | | Hom. 16. | | | 6. Gen. 3.22. | | |twice with slightly | | | different order. Gen. 3.5. | | | |6. Ex. 22.28. | | | |6. Deut. 4.34. |?mem. [Greek: | | | allothi tou | | | gegraptai]. Jer. 10.11. | | | | | Deut. 13.6. |?mem. [Greek: | | | allae pou]. | | Josh. 23.7. | | Deut. 10.17. | | Ps. 35.10. | | | Ps. 50.1. | | | Ps. 82.1. | | | | Deut. 10.14. | | | Deut. 4.39. | | | Deut. 10.17. | |repeated as above. | | Deut. 10.17. |very paraphrastic. | | | Hom. 16. | |6. Deut. 4.39. | 7. Deut. 6.13. | | | Deut. 6.4. | | | | |8. Josh. 23.7. |as above. 8. Exod. 22.18 + | | | Jer. 10.11. | | | Gen. 1.1. | | | Ps. 19.2. | | | |8. Ps. 102.26. | | Gen. 1.26. | | | | |13. Deut. 13.1-3, |very free. | | 9, 5, 3. | Hom. 17. | |18. Num. 12.6. |}paraphrastic | | Ex. 33.11. |} combination. Hom. 18. | |17. Is. 40.26,27. |free quotation. | | Deut. 30.13. |ditto. 18. Is. 1.3. | | | Is. 1.4. | | | The example of the Clementine Homilies shows conspicuously the extremely deceptive character of the argument from silence. All the quotations from the Old Testament found in them are taken from five Homilies (iii, xi, xvi, xvii, xviii) out of nineteen, although the Homilies are lengthy compositions, filling, with the translation and various readings, four hundred and fourteen large octavo pages of Dressel's edition [Endnote 38:1]. Of the whole number of quotations all but seven are taken from two Homilies, iii and xvi. If Hom. xvi and Hom. xviii had been lost, there would have been no evidence that the author was acquainted with any book of the Old Testament besides the Pentateuch; and, if the five Homilies had been lost, there would have been nothing to show that he was acquainted with the Old Testament at all. Yet the loss of the two Homilies would have left a volume of three hundred and seventy-seven pages, and that of the five a volume of three hundred and fifteen pages. In other words, it is possible to read three hundred and fifteen pages of the Homilies with five breaks and come to no quotation from the Old Testament at all, or three hundred and fifteen pages with only two breaks and come to none outside the Pentateuch. But the reduced volume that we have supposed, containing the fourteen Homilies, would probably exceed in bulk the whole of the extant Christian literature of the second century up to the time of Irenaeus, with the single exception of the works of Justin; it will therefore be seen how precarious must needs be any inference from the silence, not of all these writings, but merely of a portion of them. For the rest, the quotations in the Homilies may be said to observe a fair standard of exactness, one apparently higher than that in the genuine Epistle of Clement to the Corinthians; at the same time it should be remembered that the quotations in the Homilies are much shorter, only two reaching a length of three verses, while the longest quotations in the Epistle are precisely those that are most exact. The most striking instance of accuracy of quotation is perhaps Gen. xv. 13-16 in Hom. iii. 43. On the other hand, there is marked freedom in the quotations from Deut. iv. 34, x. 17, xiii. 1-3, xiii. 6. xxx. 15, Is. xl. 26, 27, and the combined passage, Num. xii. 6 and Ex. xxiii. 11. There are several repetitions, but these occur too near to each other to permit of any inference. Our examination of the Old Testament quotations in Justin is greatly facilitated by the collection and discussion of them in Credner's Beiträge [Endnote 39:1], a noble example of that true patient work which is indeed the reverse of showy, but forms the solid and well-laid foundation on which alone genuine knowledge can be built. Credner has collected and compared in the most elaborate manner the whole of Justin's quotations with the various readings in the MSS. of the LXX; so that we may state our results with a much greater confidence than in any other case (except perhaps Clement of Rome, where we have the equally accurate and scholarly guidance of Dr. Lightfoot [Endnote 40:1]) that we are not led astray by imperfect materials. I have availed myself freely of Credner's collection of variants, indicating the cases where the existence of documentary (or, in some places, inferential) evidence for Justin's readings has led to the quotation being placed in a different class from that to which it would at first sight seem to belong. I have also, as hitherto, not assumed an absolutely strict standard for admission to the first class of 'exact' quotations. Many of Justin's quotations are very long, and it seemed only right that in these the standard should be somewhat, though very slightly, relaxed. The chief point that we have to determine is the extent to which the writers of the first century were in the habit of freely paraphrasing or quoting from memory, and it may as a rule be assumed that all the instances in the first class and most (not quite all) of those in the second do not admit of such an explanation. I have been glad in every case where a truly scientific and most impartial writer like Credner gives his opinion, to make use of it instead of my own. I have the satisfaction to think that whatever may be the value of the other sections of this enquiry, this at least is thoroughly sound, and based upon a really exhaustive sifting of the data. The quotations given below are from the undoubted works of Justin, the Dialogue against Tryphon and the First Apology; the Second Apology does not appear to contain any quotations either from the Old or New Testament. _Exact._ | _Slightly | _Variant._ | _Remarks._ | variant._ | | | | | |Apol. 1.59, Gen. | | | 1.1-3. | | Dial. 62, Gen. 1. | | | 26-28. | | | |Dial. 102, Gen. | |free quotation | 3.15. | | (Credner). D.62, Gen. 3.22. | | | |D.127, Gen. | | | 7.16. | | |D.139, Gen. 9. | | | 24-27. | | |D.127, Gen. 11.5. | |free quotation | | | (Cr.) D.102, Gen. 11.6. | | | |D.92, Gen. 15.6. | |free quotation | | | (Cr.) | |Dial.10, +Gen. | | | 17.14. | D.127, Gen. 17.22.| | | |D.56, +Gen. 18. | |ver. 2 repeated | 1, 2. | | similarly. | +Gen. 18. 13, 14. | |repeated, | | | slightly more | +Gen. 18. 16-23, | | divergent. | 33. | | | +Gen. 19. 1, 10, | | | 16-28 (om. 26). | |marked exactness | | | in the whole | | | passage. D.56, Gen. 21. | | | 9-12. | | | D.120, Gen. 26.4. | | | D.58, Gen. 28. | | | 10-12. | | | |D.58, +(v.l.) Gen. | | | 28. 13-19. | | | +(v.l.) Gen. 31. | | | 10-13. | | | |D.59, Gen. 35.1. |free quotation | | | (Cr.) D.58, Gen. 35. | | | 6-10 (v.l.) | | | D. 52, Gen. 49. | | |repeated 8-12. | | | similarly. D. 59, Ex. 2. 23. | | | D. 60, Ex. 3.2-4+.| |A.1. 62, Ex. 3. 5. |from memory | | | (Cr.) |D. 59, Ex. 3. 16. | | | |A. 1.63, Ex. 3.16 |ver.16 freely | | (ter), 17. | quoted (Cr.) | | | [Greek: eirae- | | | tai pou.] |D. 126, Ex.6.2-4. | | | |D. 49, Ex. 17.16. |free quotation | | | (Cr.) | |D. 94, Ex. 20.4. |ditto (Cr.) |D. 75, Ex. 23.20, | |from Lectionary | 21. | | (Cr.) D.16, Lev. 26.40, | |D. 20, Ex. 32. 6. |free (Cr.) 41 (v.l.) | | | |D. 126, Num. 11. | | | 23. | | | |A.1.60 (or. obl.), |free (Cr.) | | D. 94, Num. 21. | | | 8,9. | |D. 106, Num. 24. | |through Targum | 17. | | (Cr.) | |D. 16, Deut. 10. |from memory | | 16, 17. | (Cr.) | |D.96, Deut. 21.23. |both precisely | | Deut. 27.26. | as St. Paul in | | | Galatians, and | | | quoted thence | | | (Cr.) D. 126, Deut. 31. | | | 2, 3 (v.l.) | | | D. 74, Deut. 31. | | | 16-18 (v.l.) | | | D. 131, Deut. 32. | | | 7-9 (tr.) | | | |D.20, Deut. 32.15. | | D. 119, Deut. 32. | | |Targum (Cr.) 16-23. | | | D. 130, Deut. 32. | | | 43 (v.l.) | | | |D. 91, +Deut. 33. | | | 13-17. | | A.1. 40, Ps. 1 and| | |parts repeated. 2 entire. | | | |D.97, Ps. 3. 5, 6. | |repeated, more | | | freely. D.114, Ps. 8.4. | | | D.27, Ps. 14.3. | | | D.28, Ps.18.44,45.| | | D. 64, Ps.19.6 | | |perhaps from (A.1.40, vv.1-5). | | | different | | | MSS., see | | | Credner. D.97 ff., Ps. 22. | | |quoted as 1-23. | | | _whole_ Psalm | | | (bis). D.133 ff., Ps. 24 | | | entire. | | | |D.141, Ps. 32. 2. | | D.38, Ps. 45.1-17.| | |parts repeated. D.37, Ps. 47.6-9. | | | D.22, Ps. 49 | | | entire. | | | | |D.34} |{from Eph. 4.8, | |D.37} Ps. 68.8. |{ Targum. D.34, Ps. 72 | | | entire. | | | D. 124, Ps. 82 | | | entire. | | | D.73, Ps. 96 | | |note Christian entire. | | | interpolation | | | in ver. 10. D.37, Ps. 99 | | | entire. | |D. 83, Ps. 110. |from memory D.32, Ps. 110 | | 1-4. | (Cr.) entire. | | | | |D.110, Ps. 128.3. |from memory D.85, Ps. 148. | | | (Cr.) 1, 2. | | | A.1. 37, Is. 1. | | | 3, 4. | | | | |A.1. 47, Is. 1.7 |sense only | | (Jer. 2.15). | (Cr.) | |D.140 (A.1. 53), | | | Is. 1.9. | | |A.1. 37, Is. 1. |from memory | | 11-14. | (Cr.) |A.1. 44 (61), Is. | |omissions. | 1.16-30. | | | |D.82, Is. 1. 23. |from memory A.1. 39, Is. 2. | | | (Cr.) 3,4. | | | |D.135, Is. 2. 5,6. | |Targum (Cr.) D. 133, Is. 3. | | | 9-15 (v.l.) | | | | |D.27, Is. 3.16. |free quotation | | | (Cr.) |D.133, Is. 5. 18- | |repeated. | 25 (v.l.) | | |D.43 (66), Is. 7. | |repeated, with | 10-17 (v.l.) | | slight | | | variation. | | A.1.35, Is. 9.6. |free (Cr.) D.87, Is. 11.1-3. | |[A.1.32, Is. 11.1; |free combination | | Num. 24.17. | (Cr.)] |D.123, Is. 14.1. | | D.123, Is. 19.24, | | | 25+. | | | |D.78, Is. 29.13,14.| |repeated (v.l), | | | partly from | | | memory. D.79, Is. 30.1-5. | | | |D.70, Is.33.13-19. | | |D.69, Is. 35.1-7. |A.1.48, Is. 35.5,6.|free; cf. Matt. | | | 11.5 (var.) D.50, Is. 39. 8, | | | 40.1-17. | | | | |D.125} Is.42.1-4. |{cf. Matt. 12. | |D.135} |{ 17-21, | | | Targum (Cr.) D.65, Is. 42.6-13 | | | (v.l.) | | | | |D.122, Is. 42.16. |free (Cr.) |D.123, Is. 42.19, | | | 20. | | D.122, Is. 43.10. | | | | |A.1.52, Is. 45. |cf. Rom. 14.11. | | 24 (v.l.) | D.121, Is. 49.6 | | | (v.l.) | | | D.122, Is. 49.8 | | | (v.l.) | | | |D.102, Is. 50.4. | | A.1.38, Is. 50. | | |Barn., Tert., 6-8. | | | Cypr. D.11, Is. 51.4, 5.| | | D.17, Is. 52.5 | | | (v.l.) | | | D.12, Is. 5 2, | | | 10-15, 53.1-12, | | | 54.1-6. | | | |A.1. 50, Is. 52. | | | 13-53.12. | | | |D.138, Is. 54.9. |very free. D.14, Is. 55.3-13.| |[D.12, Is. 55. 3-5.|from memory | | | (Cr.)] D.16, Is.57.1-4. | | |repeated. D.15, Is.58.1-11 | | |[Greek: (v.l.) | | | himatia] for | | |[Greek: iamata]; | | |so Barn., Tert, | | |Cyp., Amb., Aug. D.27, Is. 58. | | | 13, 14. | | | |D.26, +Is. 62.10- | |[Greek: | 10-63.6. | | susseismon] for | | |[Greek: | | | sussaemon]. D.25, Is. 63.15- | | | 19, 64.1-12. | | | D.24, Is. 65. 1-3.| |[A.1.49, Is. 65. |from memory | | 1-3. | (Cr.)] D.136, Is. 65.8. | | | D.135, Is. 65.9-12| | | D.81, Is. 65.17-25| | | | |D.22, Is. 66.1. |from memory | | | (Cr.) D.85, Is. 66.5-11.| | | | |D.44, Is. 66. 24 |from memory | | (ter). | (Cr.) | |D.114, Jer. 2.13; |as from | | Is. 16.1; | Jeremiah, | | Jer. 3.8. | traditional | | | combination; | | | cf. Barn. 2. |D.28, Jer. 4.3, 4 | | | (v.l.) | | | |D.23, Jer. 7.21,22.|free quotation | | | (Cr.) |D. 28, Jer. 9.25,26|[A.1.53, Jer. 9.26.|quoted freely | | | as from | | | Isaiah.] |D.72, Jer. 11.19. | |omissions. | |D. 78, Jer. 31.15 |so Matt. 2.18 | | (38.15, LXX). | through | | | Targum (Cr.) | |D.123, Jer. 31.27 |free quotation | | (38. 27). | (Cr.) |D.11, Jer. 31.31, | | |32 (38.31, 32). | | | |D.72. |a passage quoted | | | as from | | | Jeremiah, | | | which is not | | | recognisable | | | in our present | | | texts. | |D. 82, Ezek. 3. |free quotation | | 17-19. | (Cr.) | |D.45} Ezek. 14. |} repeated | | 44} 20; cf. 14, |} similarly and | | 140} 16, 18. |} equally | | |} divergent from | | |} LXX. D.77, Ezek. 16. 3.| | | D.21, Ezek. 20. | | | 19-26. | | | D.123, Ezek. 36. | | | 12. | | | | |A.1.52, Ezek. |very free (Cr.) | | 37. 7. | [Footnote: Justin has in Dial. 31 (also in Apol. 1. 51, ver. 13, from memory) a long quotation from Daniel, Dan. 7. 9-28; his text can only be compared with a single MS. of the LXX, Codex Chisianus; from this it differs considerably, but many of the differences reappear in the version of Theodotion; 7. 10, 13 are also similarly quoted in Rev., Mark, Clem. Rom.] _Exact._ | _Slightly | _Variant._ | _Remarks._ | variant._ | | | |D.19, Hos. 1.9. | | |D.102, Hos.10.6. |referred to | | | trial before | | | Herod (Cr.) | |D.87, Joel 2.28. |from memory | | | (Cr.) |D. 22, +Amos | | |5.18-6. 7 (v.l.) | | |D. 107, Jonah 4. | | | 10-11 (v.l. Heb.)| | |D. 109, Micah 4. | |divergent from | 1-7 (Heb.?) | | LXX. | |A.1.34} Micah 5.2. |{precisely as | |D.78 } |{ Matt. 2.6. | | | | |A.1.52, Zech. 2.6. |{free quotations | |D. 137, Zech. 2. 8.|{ (Cr.) |D. 115, Zach. 2. |[D. 79, Zech. 3. |freely (Cr.)] | 10-3. 2 (Heb.?) | 1, 2. | D.106, Zach. 6.12.| | | | |A.1.52, Zech. 12. |repeated di- | | 11,12,10. | versely [note | | | reading of | | | Christian ori- | | | gin (Cr.) in | | | ver. 10: | | | so John 19.37; | | | cp. Rev. 1.7]. | |D.43, Zech. 13. 7. |diversely in | | | Matt. 26.31, | | | proof that | | | Justin is | | | not dependent | | | on Matthew | | | (Cr.) |D.28, 41, Mal. 1. |D. 117, Mal. 1. | | 10-12 (v.l.) | 10-12. | |D.62, +Joshua 5. | |omissions. | 13-15; 6.1, 2 | | | (v.l.) | | | |D.118, 2 Sam. 7. |from memory | | 14-16. | (Cr.) | |D.39, 1 Kings 19. |freely (Cr.); | | 14, 15, 18. | cf. Rom. 11.3. A.1.55, Lam. 4. | | | 20 (v.l.) | | | | |D.79, Job 1.6. |sense only | | | (Cr.) |D.61, +Prov. 8. | |coincidence | 21-36. | | with Ire- | | | naeus. [Footnote: D. 72 a passage ostensibly from Ezra, but probably an apocryphal addition, perhaps from Preaching of Peter; same quotation in Lactantius.] It is impossible not to be struck with the amount of matter that Justin has transferred to his pages bodily. He has quoted nine Psalms entire, and a tenth with the statement (twice repeated) that it is given entire, though really he has only quoted twenty- three verses. The later chapters of Isaiah are also given with extraordinary fulness. These longer passages are generally quoted accurately. If Justin's text differs from the received text of the LXX, it is frequently found that he has some extant authority for his reading. The way in which Credner has drawn out these varieties of reading, and the results which he obtained as to the relations and comparative value of the different MSS., form perhaps the most interesting feature of his work. The more marked divergences in Justin may be referred to two causes; (1) quotation from memory, in which he indulges freely, especially in the shorter passages, and more in the Apology than in the Dialogue with Tryphon; (2) in Messianic passages the use of a Targum, not immediately by Justin himself but in some previous document from which he quotes, in order to introduce a more distinctly Christian interpretation; the coincidences between Justin and other Christian writers show that the text of the LXX had been thus modified in a Christian sense, generally through a closer comparison with and nearer return to the Hebrew, before his time. The instances of free quotation are not perhaps quite fully given in the above list, but it will be seen that though they form a marked phenomenon, still more marked is the amount of exactness. Any long, not Messianic, passage, it appears to be the rule with Justin to quote exactly. Among the passages quoted freely there seem to be none of greater length than four verses. The exactness is especially remarkable in the plain historical narratives of the Pentateuch and the Psalms, though it is also evident that Justin had the MS. before him, and referred to it frequently throughout the quotations from the latter part of Isaiah. Through following the arrangement of Credner we have failed to notice the cases of combination; these however are collected by Dr. Westcott (On the Canon, p. 156). The most remarkable instance is in Apol. i. 52, where six different passages from three separate writers are interwoven together and assigned bodily to Zechariah. There are several more examples of mistaken ascription. * * * * * The great advantage of collecting the quotations from the Old Testament is that we are enabled to do so in regard to the very same writers among whom our enquiry is to lie. We can thus form a general idea of their idiosyncracies, and we know what to expect when we come to examine a different class of quotations. There is, however, the element of uncertainty of which I have spoken above. We cannot be quite clear what text the writer had before him. This difficulty also exists, though to a less degree, when we come to consider quotations from the New Testament in writers of an early date whom we know to have used our present Gospels as canonical. The text of these Gospels is so comparatively fixed, and we have such abundant materials for its reconstruction, that we can generally say at once whether the writer is quoting from it freely or not. We have thus a certain gain, though at the cost of the drawback that we can no longer draw an inference as to the practice of individuals, but merely attain to a general conclusion as to the habits of mind current in the age. This too will be subject to a deduction for the individual bent and peculiarities of the writer. We must therefore, on the whole, attach less importance to the examples under this section than under that preceding. I chose two writers to be the subject of this examination almost, I may say, at random, and chiefly because I had more convenient access to their works at the time. The first of these is Irenaeus, that is to say the portions still extant in the Greek of his Treatise against Heresies, [Endnote 49:1] and the second Epiphanius. Irenaeus is described by Dr. Tregelles 'as a close and careful quoter in general from the New Testament' [Endnote 49:2]. He may therefore be taken to represent a comparatively high standard of accuracy. In the following table the quotations which are merely allusive are included in brackets:-- _Exact._ | _Slightly | _Variant._ | _Remarks._ | variant._ | | I. Praef. Matt. 10.26.| | | I.3.2,Matt. 5.18. | | |quoted from | | | Gnostics I.3, 3, Mark 5.31. | | |Gnostics. | |I.3.5, Luke 14.27. |Valentinians. |I.3.5, Mark 10. | |the same. I.3.5, Matt. 10.34. | 21 (v.l.) | |the same. I.3.5, Luke 3.17. | | |the same. I.4.3, Matt. 10.8. | | | [I.6.1, Matt. 5. | | | 13, 14, al.] | |I.7.4, Matt. 8.9.} |}the same. | | Luke 7.8. } |} | |I.8.2, Matt. 27.46.|Valentinians. I.8.2. Matt. 26.38. | | |the same. |I.8.2, Matt. | |the same. | 26.39. | | | |I.8.2, John 12.27. |the same. | |I.8.3, Luke |the same. | | 9.57,58. | | |I.8.3, Luke |the same. | | 9.61,62. | |I.8.3, Luke | |the same. | 9.60. | | |I.8.3, Luke 19.5.| |the same. | |I.8.4, Luke 15,4. |the same. |[I.8.4, Luke | |the same. | 15.8, al.]| | |I.8.4, Luke 2.28.| |the same. [I.8.4., Luke | | |the same. 6.36, al.] | | | I.8.4, Luke 7.35 | | |the same. (v.l.) | | | I.8.5, John 1.1,2. | | |the same. I.8.5, John 1.3 | | |the same. (v.l.) | | | I.8.5, John 1.4. | | |the same. (v.l.) | | | | |I.8.5, John 1.5. |the same. I.8.5, John 1.14. | |I.8.5, John 1.14. |[the same | | | verse rep- | | | eated dif- | | | ferently.] | |[I.14.1. Matt. |Marcus. | | 18.10,al.] | |[I.16.1, Luke | |Marcosians. | 15.8,al.]| | | |[I.16.3, Matt. |the same. | | 12,43,al.] | |I.20.2, Luke | |the same. | 2.49. | | | |I.20.2, Mark 10.18.|['memoriter'- | | | Stieren; but | | | comp. Clem. | | | Hom. and | | | and Justin.] |I.20.2, Matt. | |Marcosians. | 21.23.| | | |I.20.2, Luke 19.42.|the same. I.20.2, Matt. | | |the same. 11.28 (? om.).| | | | |I.20.3, Luke 10.21.|the same; | | (Matt. 11.25 | [v.l., comp. | | 25.) | Marcion, | | | Clem. Hom., | | | Justin, &c.] | |I.21.2, Luke 12.50.|Marcosians. |I.21.2, Mark | |Marcosians. | 10.36. | | III.11.8, John | | | 1.1-3 (?). | | | III.11.8, Matt. | | | 1.1,18 (v.l.)| | | |III.11.8, Mark | |omissions. | 1.1,2. | | III.22.2, John 4.6. | | | III.22.2, Matt. 26.38.| | | |IV.26.1, } Matt. | | |IV.40.3, } 13.38.| | |IV.40.3, Matt. | | | 13.25. | | V.17.4, Matt. 3.10. | | | | |V.36.2, John 14.2 | | | (or obl.) | | |Fragm. 14, Matt. | | | 15.17. | On the whole these quotations of Irenaeus seem fairly to deserve the praise given to them by Dr. Tregelles. Most of the free quotations, it will be seen, belong not so much to Irenaeus himself, as to the writers he is criticising. In some places (e.g. iv. 6. 1, which is found in the Latin only) he expressly notes a difference of text. In this very place, however, he shows that he is quoting from memory, as he speaks of a parallel passage in St. Mark which does not exist. Elsewhere there can be little doubt that either he or the writer before him quoted loosely from memory. Thus Luke xii. 50 is given as [Greek: allo baptisma echo baptisthaenai kai panu epeigomai eis auto] for [Greek: baptisma de echo baptisthaenai kai pos sunechomai heos hotou telesthae]. The quotation from Matt. viii. 9 is represented as [Greek: kai gar ego hupo taen emautou exousian echo stratiotas kai doulous kai ho ean prostaxo poiousi], which is evidently free; those from Matt. xviii. 10, xxvii. 46, Luke ix. 57, 58, 61, 62, xiv. 27, xix. 42, John i. 5, 14 (where however there appears to be some confusion in the text of Irenaeus), xiv. 2, also seem to be best explained as made from memory. The list given below, of quotations from the Gospels in the Panarium or 'Treatise against Heresies' of Epiphanius [Endnote 52:1], is not intended to be exhaustive. It has been made from the shorter index of Petavius, and being confined to the 'praecipui loci' consists chiefly of passages of substantial length and entirely (I believe) of express quotations. It has been again necessary to distinguish between the quotations made directly by Epiphanius himself and those made by the heretical writers whose works he is reviewing. _Exact._ | _Slightly | _Variant._ | _Remarks._ | Variant._ | | 426A, Matt. 1.1; | | | Matt. 1.18, | | | (v.l.) | | | |426BC, Matt. | |abridged, diver- | 1.18-25+.| | gent in middle. | |430B, Matt. 2.13. |Porphyry & Celsus. | |44C, Matt. 5.34,37| |59C, Matt. | | | 5.17,18.| | 180B, Matt. 5.18+.| | |Valentinians. | |226A, Matt. 5.45. | |72A, Matt. 7.6. | |Basilidians. 404C, Matt. 7.15. | | | | |67C. Matt. 8.11. | | |650B. Matt. | | | 8.28-34 (par.)| |303A, Matt. | |Marcion. | 9.17,16.| | |71B, Matt. 10.33.| |Basilidians. |274B, Matt. | | | 10.16.| | 88A, Matt. 11.7. |143B, Matt. | |Gnostics. | 11.18.| | |254B, Matt. | |Marcosians. | 11.28.| | | |139AB, Matt. |Ebionites. | | 12.48 sqq. (v.l.)| 174C, Matt. 10.26.| | | | |464B, Matt. |Theodotus. | | 12.31,32.| |33A, Matt. 23.5. | | | |218D, Matt. 15.4-6|Ptolemaeus. | | (or. obl.)| | |490C, Matt. 15.20.| | | Mark 7.21,22.| | |490A, Matt. 18.8. |}compression | | Mark 9.43. |} | |679BC, Matt. |Manes. | | 13.24-30,37-39.| | |152B, Matt. 5.27. | |59CD, Matt. | | | 19.10-12.| | |59D, Matt. 19.6. | | | |81A, Matt. 19.12. | | |97D, Matt. 22.30. | | |36BC, Matt. 23. |remarkable compo- | | 23,25; 23.18-20.| sition, probably | | | from memory. | | (5.35); Mark | | | 7.11-13; Matt. | | | 23.15. | | |226A, Matt. 23.29;|composition. | | Luke 11.47.| | |281A, Matt. 23.35.| | |508C, Matt. 25.34.| | |146AB, Matt. 26. |narrative. | | 17,18; Mark 14. | | | 12-14; Luke 22. | | | 9-11. | | |279D, Matt. 26.24.| | |390B, Matt. 21.33,| | | par. | |50A, Matt. 28.19.| | |427B, Mark 1.1,2.| | | (v.1.)| | |428C, Mark 1.4. | | | |457D, Mark 3.29; |singular | | Matt. 12.31; |composition. | | Luke 12.10. | |400D, Matt. 19.6;| | | Mark 10.9. | | | |650C, Matt. 8. |narrative. | | 28-34; Mark 5. | | | 1-20; Luke 8. | | | 26-39. | [These last five quotations have already been given under Irenaeus, whom Epiphanius is transcribing.] |464D, Luke 12.9; | |composition. | Matt. 10.33.| | |181B, Luke 14.27.| |Valentians. |401A, Luke 21.34.| | |143C, Luke 24.42.| | | (v. 1.)| | |349C, Luke 24. | |Marcion. | 38,39| | 384B, John 1.1-3. | | | 148A, John 1.23. | | | |148B, John | | | 2.16,17.| | |89C, John 3.12. | |Gnostics. |274A, John 3.14 | | 59C, John 5.46. | | | | |162B, John 5.8. | 66C, John 5.17. | | | |919A, John 5.18. | | | |117D, John 6.15. | |89D, John 6.53. | |the same. |279D, John 6.70. | | | |279B, John 8.44. | |463D, John 8.40. | |Theodotus. | |148B, John 12.41. | | |153A, John 12.22. | |75C, John 14.6. | | 919C, John 14.10. | | | 921D, John 17.3. | | | | |279D, John | | | 17.11,12.| |119D, John 18.36.| | It is impossible here not to notice the very large amount of freedom in the quotations. The exact quotations number only fifteen, the slightly variant thirty-seven, and the markedly variant forty. By far the larger portion of this last class and several instances in the second it seems most reasonable to refer to the habit of quoting from memory. This is strikingly illustrated by the passage 117 D, Where the retreat of Jesus and His disciples to Ephraim is treated as a consequence of the attempt 'to make Him king' (John vi. 15), though in reality it did not take place till after the raising of Lazarus and just before the Last Passover (see John xi. 54). A very remarkable case of combination is found in 36 BC, where a single quotation is made up of a cento of no less than six separate passages taken from all three Synoptic Gospels and in the most broken order. Fusions so complete as this are usually the result of unconscious acts of the mind, i.e. of memory. A curious instance of the way in which the Synoptic parallels are blended together in a compound which differs from each and all of them is presented in 437 D ([Greek: to blasphaemounti eis to pneuma to hagion ouk aphethaesetai auto oute en to nun aioni oute en to mellonti]). Another example of Epiphanius' manner in skipping backwards and forwards from one Synoptic to another may be seen in 218 D, which is made up of Matt. xv. 4-9 and Mark vii. 6-13. A strange mistake is made in 428 D, where [Greek: paraekolouthaekoti] is taken with [Greek: tois autoptais kai hupaeretais tou logou]. Many kinds of variation find examples in these quotations of Epiphanius, to some of which we may have occasion to allude more particularly later on. It should be remembered that these are not by any means selected examples. Neither Irenaeus nor Epiphanius are notorious for free quotation--Irenaeus indeed is rather the reverse. Probably a much more plentiful harvest of variations would have been obtained e.g. from Clement of Alexandria, from whose writings numerous instances of quotation following the sense only, of false ascription, of the blending of passages, of quotations from memory, are given in the treatise of Bp. Kaye [Endnote 56:1]. Dr. Westcott has recently collected [Endnote 56:2] the quotations from Chrysostom _On the Priesthood,_ with the result that about one half present variations from the Apostolic texts, and some of these variations, which he gives at length, are certainly very much to the point. I fear we shall have seemed to delay too long upon this first preliminary stage of the enquiry, but it is highly desirable that we should start with a good broad inductive basis to go upon. We have now an instrument in our hands by which to test the alleged quotations in the early writers; and, rough and approximate as that instrument must still be admitted to be, it is at least much better than none at all. CHAPTER III. THE APOSTOLIC FATHERS. To go at all thoroughly into all the questions that may be raised as to the date and character of the Christian writings in the early part of the second century would need a series of somewhat elaborate monographs, and, important as it is that the data should be fixed with the utmost attainable precision, the scaffolding thus raised would, in a work like the present, be out of proportion to the superstructure erected upon it. These are matters that must be decided by the authority of those who have made the provinces to which they belong a subject of special study: all we can do will be to test the value of the several authorities in passing. In regard to Clement of Rome, whose First (genuine) Epistle to the Corinthians is the first writing that meets us, the author of 'Supernatural Religion' is quite right in saying that 'the great mass of critics ... assign the composition of the Epistle to the end of the first century (A.D. 95-100)' [Endnote 58:1]. There is as usual a right and a left wing in the array of critics. The right includes several of the older writers; among the moderns the most conspicuous figure is the Roman Catholic Bishop Hefele. Tischendorf also, though as it is pointed out somewhat inconsistently, leans to this side. According to their opinion the Epistle would be written shortly before A.D. 70. On the left, the names quoted are Volkmar, Baur, Scholten, Stap, and Schwegler [Endnote 59:1]. Baur contents himself with the remark that the Epistle to the Corinthians, 'as one of the oldest documents of Christian antiquity, might have passed without question as a writing of the Roman Clement,' had not this Clement become a legendary person and had so many spurious works palmed off upon him [Endnote 59:2]. But it is surely no argument to say that because a certain number of extravagant and spurious writings are attributed to Clement, therefore one so sober and consistent with his position, and one so well attested as this, is not likely to have been written by him. The contrary inference would be the more reasonable, for if Clement had not been an important person, and if he had left no known and acknowledged writings, divergent parties in the Church would have had no reason for making use of his name. But arguments of this kind cannot have much weight. Probably not one half of the writings attributed to Justin Martyr are genuine; but no one on that account doubts the Apologies and the Dialogue with Tryphon. Schwegler [Endnote 59:3], as is his wont, has developed the opinion of Baur, adding some reasons of his own. Such as, that the letter shows Pauline tendencies, while 'according to the most certain traditions' Clement was a follower of St. Peter; but the evidence for the Epistle (Polycarp, Dionysius of Corinth, A.D. 165-175, Hegesippus, and Irenaeus in the most express terms) is much older and better than these 'most certain traditions' (Tertullian and Origen), even if they proved anything: 'in the Epistle of Clement use is made of the Epistle to the Hebrews;' but surely, according to any sober canons of criticism, the only light in which this argument can be regarded is as so much evidence for the Epistle to the Hebrews: the Epistle implies a development of the episcopate which 'demonstrably' (nachweislich) did not take place until during the course of the second century; what the 'demonstration' is does not appear, and indeed it is only part of the great fabric of hypothesis that makes up the Tübingen theory. Volkmar strikes into a new vein [Endnote 60:1]. The Epistle of Clement presupposes the Book of Judith; but the Book of Judith must be dated A.D. 117-118; and therefore the Epistle of Clement will fall about A.D. 125. What is the ground for this reasoning? It consists in a theory, which Volkmar adopted and developed from Hitzig, as to the origin of the Book of Judith. That book is an allegorical or symbolical representation of events in the early part of the rising of the Jews under Barcochba; Judith is Judaea, Nebuchadnezzar Trajan; Assyria stands for Syria, Nineveh for Antioch, Arphaxad for a Parthian king Arsaces, Ecbatana for Nisibis or perhaps Batnae; Bagoas is the eunuch- service in general; Holofernes is the Moor Lucius Quietus. Out of these elements an elaborate historical theory is constructed, which Ewald and Fritzsche have taken the trouble to refute on historical grounds. To us it is very much as if Ivanhoe were made out to be an allegory of incidents in the French Revolution; or as if the 'tale of Troy divine' were, not a nature-myth or Euemeristic legend of long past ages, but a symbolical representation of events under the Pisistratidae. Examples such as this are apt to draw from the English reader a sweeping condemnation of German criticism, and yet they are really only the sports or freaks of an exuberant activity. The long list given in 'Supernatural Religion' [Endnote 61:1] of those who maintain the middle date of Clement's Epistle (A.D. 95-100) includes apparently all the English writers, and among a number of Germans the weighty names of Bleek, Ewald, Gieseler, Hilgenfeld, Köstlin, Lipsius, Laurent, Reuss, and Ritschl. From the point of view either of authority or of argument there can be little doubt which is the soundest and most judicious decision. Now what is the bearing of the Epistle of Clement upon the question of the currency and authority of the Synoptic Gospels? There are two passages of some length which are without doubt evangelical quotations, though whether they are derived from the Canonical Gospels or not may be doubted. The first passage occurs in c. xiii. It will be necessary to give it in full with the Synoptic parallels, in order to appreciate the exact amount of difference and resemblance which it presents. _Matt._ v. 7, vi. 14, |_Clem. ad Cor._ c. xiii. |_Luke_ vi. 36, 37, 31, vii. 12,2. | | vi. 38, 37, 38. | [Especially re- | | membering the word | | of the Lord Jesus | | which he spake ... | | For thus he said:] | v. 7. Blessed are | Pity ye, that ye may | vi. 36. Be ye mer- the pitiful, for they | be pitied: forgive, | ciful, etc. vi. 37. Ac- shall be pitied. vi. | that it may be for- | quit, and ye shall be 14. For if ye for | given unto you. As | acquitted. vi. 3 1. give men their tres- | ye do, so shall it | And as ye would passes, etc. vii. 12. | be done unto you: | that they should do All things therefore | as ye give, so shall | unto you, do ye whatsoever ye would | it be given. unto you: | also unto them like that men should do | as ye judge, so shall | wise. vi. 38. Give, unto you, even so do | it be judged unto | and it shall be given ye unto them. vii. 2. | you: as ye are kind, | unto you. vi. 3 7. For with what judg- | so shall kindness be | And judge not, and ment ye judge, ye | shown unto you: | ye shall not be shall be judged: and | | judged. with what measure | with what measure | For with what ye mete, it shall be | ye mete, with it shall | measure ye mete, it measured unto you. | it be measured unto | shall be measured | you. | unto you again. [GREEK TABLE] _Matt._ v. 7, vi. 14, |_Clem. ad Cor._ c. xiii. |_Luke_ vi. 36, 37, 31, vii. 12,2. | | vi. 38, 37, 38. | | v.7. makarioi hoi |eleeite hina eleaethaete.| vi. 36. ginesthe eleaemones hoti autoi | |oiktirmones, k.t.l. eleaethaesontai. | | vi. 14. ean gar | aphiete hina aphethae | vi. 37. apoluete kai aphaete tois anth. ta |humin. |apoluthaesesthe. paraptomata auton. | | vii. 12. panta oun | hos poieite houto | vi. 31. kai kathos hosa ean thelaete hina |poiaethaesetai humin. |thelete hina poiosin poiosin humin hoi anth.| |humin hoi anthropoi kai houtos kai humeis | |humeis poieite autois | |homoios poieite autois. | hos didote houtos | vi. 38. didote, kai |dothaesetai humin. |dothaesetai humin. vii. 2. en ho gar | hos krinete houtos | vi. 37. kai mae krimati krinete |krithaesetai humin. |krinete kai ou mae krithaesesthe. | |krithaete. | hos chraesteuesthe | |houtos chraesteuthaesetai| |humin. | kai en ho metro | ho metro metreite en | vi. 38. to gar auto metreite |auto metraethaesetai |metro ho metreite metraethaesetai humin. |humin. |antimetraethaesetai | |humin. We are to determine whether this quotation was taken from the Canonical Gospels. Let us try to balance the arguments on both sides as fairly as possible. Dr. Lightfoot writes in his note upon the passage as follows: 'As Clement's quotations are often very loose, we need not go beyond the Canonical Gospels for the source of this passage. The resemblance to the original is much closer here, than it is for instance in his account of Rahab above, § 12. The hypothesis therefore that Clement derived the saying from oral tradition, or from some lost Gospel, is not needed.' (1) No doubt it is true that Clement does often quote loosely. The difference of language, taking the parallel clauses one by one, is not greater than would be found in many of his quotations from the Old Testament. (2) Supposing that the order of St. Luke is followed, there will be no greater dislocation than e.g. in the quotation from Deut. ix. 12-14 and Exod. xxxii. (7, 8), 11, 31, 32 in c. liii, and the backward order of the quotation would have a parallel in Clem. Hom. xvi. 13, where the verses Deut. xiii. 1-3, 5, 9 are quoted in the order Deut. xiii. 1-3, 9, 5, 3,--and elsewhere. The composition of a passage from different places in the same book, or more often from places in different books, such as would be the case if Clement was following Matthew, frequently occurs in his quotations from the Old Testament. (3) We have no positive evidence of the presence of this passage in any non- extant Gospel. (4) Arguments from the manner of quoting the Old Testament to the manner of quoting the New must always be to a certain extent _a fortiori_, for it is undeniable that the New Testament did not as yet stand upon the same footing of respect and authority as the Old, and the scarcity of MSS. must have made it less accessible. In the case of converts from Judaism, the Old Testament would have been largely committed to memory in youth, while the knowledge of the New would be only recently acquired. These considerations seem to favour the hypothesis that Clement is quoting from our Gospels. But on the other hand it may be urged, (1) that the parallel adduced by Dr. Lightfoot, the story of Rahab, is not quite in point, because it is narrative, and narrative both in Clement and the other writers of his time is dealt with more freely than discourse. (2) The passage before us is also of greater length than is usual in Clement's free quotations. I doubt whether as long a piece of discourse can be found treated with equal freedom, unless it is the two doubtful cases in c. viii and c. xxix. (3) It will not fail to be noticed that the passage as it stands in Clement has a roundness, a compactness, a balance of style, which give it an individual and independent appearance. Fusions effected by an unconscious process of thought are, it is true, sometimes marked by this completeness; still there is a difficulty in supposing the terse antitheses of the Clementine version to be derived from the fuller, but more lax and disconnected, sayings in our Gospels. (4) It is noticed in 'Supernatural Religion' [Endnote 65:1] that the particular phrase [Greek: chraesteusthe] has at least a partial parallel in Justin [Greek: ginesthe chraestoi kai oiktirmones], though it has none in the Canonical Gospels. This may seem to point to a documentary source no longer extant. Doubtless light would be thrown upon the question if we only knew what was the common original of the two Synoptic texts. How do they come to be so like and yet so different as they are? How do they come to be so strangely broken up? The triple synopsis, which has to do more with narrative, presents less difficulty, but the problem raised by these fragmentary parallelisms in discourse is dark and complex in the extreme; yet if it were only solved it would in all probability give us the key to a wide class of phenomena. The differences in these extra-canonical quotations do not exceed the differences between the Synoptic Gospels themselves; yet by far the larger proportion of critics regard the resemblances in the Synoptics as due to a common written source used either by all three or by two of them. The critics have not however, I believe, given any satisfactory explanation of the state of dispersion in which the fragments of this latter class are found. All that can be at present done is to point out that the solution of this problem and that of such quotations as the one discussed in Clement hang together, and that while the one remains open the other must also. Looking at the arguments on both sides, so far as we can give them, I incline on the whole to the opinion that Clement is not quoting directly from our Gospels, but I am quite aware of the insecure ground on which this opinion rests. It is a nice balance of probabilities, and the element of ignorance is so large that the conclusion, whatever it is, must be purely provisional. Anything like confident dogmatism on the subject seems to me entirely out of place. Very much the same is to be said of the second passage in c. xlvi compared with Matt. xxvi. 24, xviii. 6, or Luke xvii. 1, 2. It hardly seems necessary to give the passage in full, as this is already done in 'Supernatural Religion,' and it does not differ materially from that first quoted, except that it is less complicated and the supposition of a quotation from memory somewhat easier. The critic indeed dismisses the question summarily enough. He says that 'the slightest comparison of the passage with our Gospels is sufficient to convince any unprejudiced mind that it is neither a combination of texts nor a quotation from memory' [Endnote 66:1]. But this very confident assertion is only the result of the hasty and superficial examination that the author has given to the facts. He has set down the impression that a modern might receive, at the first blush, without having given any more extended study to the method of the patristic quotations. I do not wish to impute blame to him for this, because we are all sure to take up some points superficially; but the misfortune is that he has spent his labour in the wrong place. He has, in a manner, revived the old ecclesiastical argument from authority by heaping together references, not always quite digested and sifted, upon points that often do not need them, and he has neglected that consecutive study of the originals which alone could imbue his mind with their spirit and place him at the proper point of view for his enquiry. The hypothesis that Clement's quotation is made _memoriter_ from our Gospel is very far from being inadmissible. Were it not that the other passage seems to lean the other way, I should be inclined to regard it as quite the most probable solution. Such a fusion is precisely what _would_ and frequently _does_ take place in quoting from memory. It is important to notice the key phrases in the quotation. The opening phrases [Greek: ouai to anthropo ekeino; kalon aen auto ei ouk egennaethae] are found _exactly_ (though with omissions) in Matt. xxvi. 24. Clement has in common with the Synoptists all the more marked expressions but two, [Greek: skandalisai] ([Greek: -sae] Synoptics), the unusual word [Greek: mulos] (Matt., Mark), [Greek: katapontisthaenai] ([Greek: -thae] Matt.), [Greek: eis taen thalassan] (Mark, Luke), [Greek: hena ton mikron] ([Greek: mou] Clement, [Greek: touton] Synoptics). He differs from them, so far as phraseology is concerned, only in writing _once_ (the second time he agrees with the Synoptics) [Greek: ton eklekton mou] for [Greek: ton mikron touton], by an easy paraphrase, and [Greek: peritethaenai] where Mark and Luke have [Greek: perikeitai] and Matthew [Greek: kremasthae]. But on the other hand, it should be noticed that Matthew has, besides this variation, [Greek: en to pelagei taes thalassaes], where the two companion Gospels have [Greek: eis taen thalassan]; where he has [Greek: katapontisthae], Mark has [Greek: beblaetai] and Luke [Greek: erriptai]; and in the important phrase for 'it were better' all the three Gospels differ, Matthew having [Greek: sumpherei], Mark [Greek: kalon estin], and Luke [Greek: lusitelei]; so that it seems not at all too much to say that Clement does not differ from the Synoptics more than they differ from each other. The remarks that the author makes, in a general way, upon these differences lead us to ask whether he has ever definitely put to himself the question, How did they arise? He must be aware that the mass of German authorities he is so fond of quoting admit of only two alternatives, that the Synoptic writers copied either from the same original or from each other, and that the idea of a merely oral tradition is scouted in Germany. But if this is the case, if so great a freedom has been exercised in transcription, is it strange that Clement (or any other writer) should be equally free in quotation? The author rightly notices--though he does not seem quite to appreciate its bearing--the fact that Marcion and some codices (of the Old Latin translation) insert, as Clement does, the phrase [Greek: ei ouk egennaethae ae] in the text of St. Luke. Supposing that this were the text of St. Luke's Gospel which Clement had before him, it would surely be so much easier to regard his quotation as directly taken from the Gospel; but the truer view perhaps would be that we have here an instance (and the number of such instances in the older MSS. is legion) of the tendency to interpolate by the insertion of parallel passages from the same or from the other Synoptic Gospels. Clement and Marcion (with the Old Latin) will then confirm each other, as showing that even at this early date the two passages, Matt. xxvi. 24 and Matt. xviii. 6 (Luke xvii. 2), had already begun to be combined. There is one point more to be noticed before we leave the Epistle of Clement. There is a quotation from Isaiah in this Epistle which is common to it with the first two Synoptics. Of this Volkmar writes as follows, giving the words of Clement, c. xv, 'The Scripture says somewhere, This people honoureth me with their lips, but their heart is far from me,' ([Greek: houtos ho laos tois cheilesin me tima hae de kardia auton porro apestin ap' emou]). 'This "Scripture" the writer found in Mark vii. 6 (followed in Matt. xv. 8), and in that shape he could not at once remember where it stood in the Old Testament. It is indeed Mark's peculiar reproduction of Is. xxix. 13, in opposition to the original and the LXX. A further proof that the Roman Christian has here our Synoptic text in his mind, may be taken from c. xiii, where he quotes Jer. ix. 24 with equal divergence from the LXX, after the precedent of the Apostle (1 Cor. i. 31, 2 Cor. x. 17) whose letters he expressly refers to (c. xlvii) [Endnote 69:1]. It is difficult here to avoid the conclusion that Clement is quoting the Old Testament through the medium of our Gospels. The text of the LXX is this, [Greek: engizei moi ho laos houtos en to stomati autou kai en tois cheilesin auton timosin me]. Clement has the passage exactly as it is given in Mark ([Greek: ho laos houtos] Matt.), except that he writes [Greek: apestin] where both of the Gospels have [Greek: apechei] with the LXX. The passage is not Messianic, so that the variation cannot be referred to a Targum; and though A. and six other MSS. in Holmes and Parsons omit [Greek: en to stomati autou] (through wrong punctuation-- Credner), still there is no MS. authority whatever, and naturally could not be, for the omission of [Greek: engizei moi ... kai] and for the change of [Greek: timosin] to [Greek: tima]. There can be little doubt that this was a free quotation in the original of the Synoptic Gospels, and it is in a high degree probable that it has passed through them into Clement of Rome. It might perhaps be suggested that Clement was possibly quoting the earlier document, the original of our Synoptics, but this suggestion seems to be excluded both by his further deviation from the LXX in [Greek: apestin], and also by the phenomena of the last quotation we have been discussing, which are certainly of a secondary character. Altogether I cannot but regard this passage as the strongest evidence we possess for the use of the Synoptic Gospels by Clement; it seems to carry the presumption that he did use them up to a considerable degree of probability. It is rather singular that Volkmar, whose speculations about the Book of Judith we have seen above, should be so emphatic as he is in asserting the use of all three Synoptics by Clement. We might almost, though not quite, apply with a single change to this critic a sentence originally levelled at Tischendorf, to the intent that 'he systematically adopts the latest (earliest) possible or impossible dates for all the writings of the first two centuries,' but he is able to admit the use of the first and third Synoptics (the publication of which he places respectively in 100 and 110 A.D.) by throwing forward the date of Clement's Epistle, through the Judith-hypothesis, to A.D. 125. We may however accept the assertion for what it is worth, as coming from a mind something less than impartial, while we reject the concomitant theories. For my own part I do not feel able to speak with quite the same confidence, and yet upon the whole the evidence, which on a single instance might seem to incline the other way, does appear to favour the conclusion that Clement used our present Canonical Gospels. 2. There is not, so far as I am aware, any reason to complain of the statement of opinion in 'Supernatural Religion' as to the date of the so-called Epistle of Barnabas. Arguing then entirely from authority, we may put the _terminus ad quem_ at about 130 A.D. The only writer who is quoted as placing it later is Dr. Donaldson, who has perhaps altered his mind in the later edition of his work, as he now writes: 'Most (critics) have been inclined to place it not later than the first quarter of the second century, and all the indications of a date, though very slight, point to this period' [Endnote 71:1]. The most important issue is raised on a quotation in c. iv, 'Many are called but few chosen,' in the Greek of the Codex Sinaiticus [Greek: [prosechomen, maepote, hos gegraptai], polloi klaetoi, oligoi de eklektoi eurethomen.] This corresponds exactly with Matt. xxii. 14, [Greek: polloi gar eisin klaetoi, oligoi de eklektoi]. The passage occurs twice in our present received text of St. Matthew, but in xx. 16 it is probably an interpolation. There also occurs in 4 Ezra (2 Esdras) viii. 3 the sentence, 'Many were created but few shall be saved' [Endnote 71:2]. Our author spends several pages in the attempt to prove that this is the original of the quotation in Barnabas and not the saying in St. Matthew. We have the usual positiveness of statement: 'There can be no doubt that the sense of the reading in 4 Ezra is exactly that of the Epistle.' 'It is impossible to imagine a saying more irrelevant to its context than "Many are called but few chosen" in Matt. xx. 16,' where it is indeed spurious, though the relevancy of it might very well be maintained. In Matt. xxii. 14, where the saying is genuine, 'it is clear that the facts distinctly contradict the moral that "few are chosen."' When we come to a passage with a fixed idea it is always easy to get out of it what we wish to find. As to the relevancy or irrelevancy of the clause in Matt. xxii. 14 I shall say nothing, because it is in either case undoubtedly genuine. But it is surely a strange paradox to maintain that the words 'Many were created but few shall be saved' are nearer in meaning to 'Many are called but few chosen' than the repetition of those very words themselves. Our author has forgotten to notice that Barnabas has used the precise word [Greek: klaetoi] just before; indeed it is the very point on which his argument turns, 'because we are called do not let us therefore rest idly upon our oars; Israel was called to great privileges, yet they were abandoned by God as we see them; let us therefore also take heed, for, as it is written, many are called but few chosen.' I confess I find it difficult to conceive anything more relevant, and equally so to see any special relevancy, in the vague general statement 'Many were created but few shall be saved.' But even if it were not so, if it were really a question between similarity of context on the one hand and identity of language on the other, there ought to be no hesitation in declaring that to be the original of the quotation in which the language was identical though the context might be somewhat different. Any one who has studied patristic quotations will know that context counts for very little indeed. What could be more to all appearance remote from the context than the quotation in Heb. i. 7, 'Who maketh his angels spirits and his ministers a flaming fire'? where the original is certainly referring to the powers of nature, and means 'who maketh the winds his messengers and a flame of fire his minister;' with the very same sounds we have a complete inversion of the sense. This is one of the most frequent phenomena, as our author cannot but know [Endnote 73:1]. Hilgenfeld, in his edition of the Epistle of Barnabas, repels somewhat testily the imputation of Tischendorf, who criticises him as if he supposed that the saying in St. Matthew was not directly referred to [Endnote 73:2]. This Hilgenfeld denies to be the case. In regard to the use of the word [Greek: gegraptai] introducing the quotation, the same writer urges reasonably enough that it cannot surprise us at a time when we learn from Justin Martyr that the Gospels were read regularly at public worship; it ought not however to be pressed too far as involving a claim to special divine inspiration, as the same word is used in the Epistle in regard to the apocryphal book of Enoch, and it is clear also from Justin that the Canon of the Gospels was not yet formed but only forming. The clause, 'Give to every one that asketh of thee' [Greek: panti to aitounti se didou], though admitted into the text of c. xix by Hilgenfeld and Weizsäcker, is wanting in the Sinaitic MS., and the comparison with Luke vi. 30 or Matt. v. 42 therefore cannot be insisted upon. The passage '[in order that He might show that] He came not to call the righteous but sinners' ([Greek: hina deixae hoti ouk aelthen kalesai dikaious alla amartolous] [Endnote 74:1]) is removed by the hypothesis of an interpolation which is supported by a precarious argument from Origen, and also by the fact that [Greek: eis metanoian] has been added (clearly from Luke v. 32) by later hands both to the text of Barnabas and in Matt. ix. 13 [Endnote 74:2]. This theory of an interpolation is easily advanced, and it is drawn so entirely from our ignorance that it can seldom be positively disproved, but it ought surely to be alleged with more convincing reasons than any that are put forward here. We now possess six MSS. of the Epistle of Barnabas, including the famous Codex Sinaiticus, the accuracy of which in the Biblical portions can be amply tested, and all of these six MSS., without exception, contain the passage. The addition of the words [Greek: eis metanoian] represents much more the kind of interpolations that were at all habitual. The interpolation hypothesis, as I said, is easily advanced, but the _onus probandi_ must needs lie heavily against it. In accepting the text as it stands we simply obey the Baconian maxim _hypotheses non fingimus_, but it is strange, and must be surprising to a philosophic mind, to what an extent the more extreme representatives of the negative criticism have gone back to the most condemned parts of the scholastic method; inconvenient facts are explained away by hypotheses as imaginary and unverifiable as the 'cycles and epicycles' by which the schoolmen used to explain the motions of the heavenly bodies. 'If however,' the author continues, 'the passage 'originally formed part of the text, it is absurd to affirm that it is any proof of the use or existence of the first Gospel.' 'Absurd' is under the circumstances a rather strong word to use; but, granting that it would have been even 'absurd' to allege this passage, if it had stood alone, as a sufficient proof of the use of the Gospel, it does not follow that there can be any objection to the more guarded statement that it invests the use of the Gospel with a certain antecedent probability. No doubt the quotation _may_ have been made from a lost Gospel, but here again [Greek: eis aphanes ton muthon anenenkas ouk echei elenchon]-- there is no verifying that about which we know nothing. The critic may multiply Gospels as much as he pleases and an apologist at least will not quarrel with him, but it would be more to the point if he could prove the existence in these lost writings of matter _conflicting_ with that contained in the extant Gospels. As it is, the only result of these unverifiable hypotheses is to raise up confirmatory documents in a quarter where apologists have not hitherto claimed them. We are delaying, however, too long upon points of quite secondary importance. Two more passages are adduced; one, an application of Ps. cx (The Lord said unto my Lord) precisely as in Matt. xxii. 44, and the other a saying assigned to our Lord, 'They who wish to see me and lay hold on my kingdom must receive me through affliction and suffering.' Of neither of these can we speak positively. There is perhaps a slight probability that the first was suggested by our Gospel, and considering the character of the verifiable quotations in Barnabas, which often follow the sense only and not the words, the second may be 'a free reminiscence of Matt. xvi. 24 compared with Acts xiv. 22,' but it is also possible that it may be a saying quoted from an apocryphal Gospel. It should perhaps be added that Lardner and Dr. Westcott both refer to a quotation of Zech. xiii. 7 which appears in the common text of the Epistle in a form closely resembling that in which the quotation is given in Matt. xxvi. 31 and diverging from the LXX, but here again the Sinaitic Codex varies, and the text is too uncertain to lay stress upon, though perhaps the addition [Greek: taes poimnaes] may incline the balance to the view that the text of the Gospel has influenced the form of the quotation [Endnote 76:1]. The general result of our examination of the Epistle of Barnabas may perhaps be stated thus, that while not supplying by itself certain and conclusive proof of the use of our Gospels, still the phenomena accord better with the hypothesis of such a use. This Epistle stands in the second line of the evidence, and as a witness is rather confirmatory than principal. 3. After Dr. Lightfoot's masterly exposition there is probably nothing more to be said about the genuineness, date, and origin of the Ignatian Epistles. Dr. Lightfoot has done in the most lucid and admirable manner just that which is so difficult to do, and which 'Supernatural Religion' has so signally failed in doing; he has succeeded in conveying to the reader a true and just sense of the exact weight and proportion of the different parts of the evidence. He has avoided such phrases as 'absurd,' 'impossible,' 'preposterous,' that his opponent has dealt in so freely, but he has weighed and balanced the evidence piece by piece; he has carefully guarded his language so as never to let the positiveness of his conclusion exceed what the premises will warrant; he has dealt with the subject judicially and with a full consciousness of the responsibility of his position [Endnote 77:1]. We cannot therefore, I think, do better than adopt Dr. Lightfoot's conclusion as the basis of our investigation, and treat the Curetonian (i.e. the three short Syriac) letters as (probably) 'the work of the genuine Ignatius, while the Vossian letters (i.e. the shorter Greek recension of seven Epistles) are accepted as valid testimony at all events for the middle of the second century--the question of the genuineness of the letters being waived.' The Curetonian Epistles will then be dated either in 107 or in 115 A.D., the two alternative years assigned to the martyrdom of Ignatius. In the Epistle to Polycarp which is given in this version there is a parallel to Matt. x. 16, 'Be ye therefore wise as serpents and harmless as doves.' The two passages may be compared thus:-- _Ign. ad Pol._ ii. [Greek: Psronimos ginou hos ophis en apasin kai akeaios osei perisetera.] _Matt._ x. 16. [Greek: Ginesthe oun psronimoi hos oi opheis kai akeaioi hos ai peristerai.] We should naturally place this quotation in the second column of our classified arrangement, as presenting a slight variation. At the same time we should have little hesitation in referring it to the passage in our Canonical Gospel. All the marked expressions are identical, especially the precise and selected words [Greek: phronimos] and [Greek: akeraios]. It is however possible that Ignatius may be quoting, not directly from our Gospel, but from one of the original documents (such as Ewald's hypothetical 'Spruch-sammlung') out of which our Gospel was composed--though it is somewhat remarkable that this particular sentence is wanting in the parallel passage in St. Luke (cf. Luke x. 3). This may be so or not; we have no means of judging. But it should at any rate be remembered that this original document, supposing it to have had a substantive existence, most probably contained repeated references to miracles. The critics who refer Matt. x. 16 to the document in question, also agree in referring to it Matt. vii. 22, x. 8, xi. 5, xii. 24 foll., &c., which speak distinctly of miracles, and precisely in that indirect manner which is the best kind of evidence. Therefore if we accept the hypothesis suggested in 'Supernatural Religion'--and it is a mere hypothesis, quite unverifiable--the evidence for miracles would not be materially weakened. The author would, I suppose, admit that it is at least equally probable that the saying was quoted from our present Gospel. This probability would be considerably heightened if the allusion to 'the star' in the Syriac of Eph. xix has, as it appears to have, reference to the narrative of Matt. ii. In the Greek or Vossian version of the Epistle it is expanded, 'How then was He manifested to the ages? A star shone in heaven above all the stars, and the light thereof was unspeakable, and the strangeness thereof caused astonishment' ([Greek: Pos oun ephanerothae tois aoisin; Astaer en ourano elampsen huper pantas tous asteras, kai to phos autou aneklalaeton aen, kai xenismon pareichen hae kainotaes autou]). This is precisely, one would suppose, the kind of passage that might be taken as internal evidence of the genuineness of the Curetonian and later character of the Vossian version. The Syriac ([Greek: hatina en haesouchia Theou to asteri] [or [Greek: apo tou asteros]] [Greek: eprachthae]), abrupt and difficult as it is, does not look like an epitome of the Greek, and the Greek has exactly that exaggerated and apocryphal character which would seem to point to a later date. It corresponds indeed somewhat nearly to the language of the Protevangelium of James, §21, [Greek: eidomen astera pammegethae lampsanta en tois astrois tou ouranou kai amblunonta tous allous asteras hoste mae phainesthai autous]. Both in the Protevangelium and in the Vossian Ignatius we see what is clearly a developement of the narrative in St. Matthew. If the Vossian Epistles are genuine, then by showing the existence of such a developement at so early a date they will tend to throw back still further the composition of the Canonical Gospel. If the Syriac version, on the other hand, is the genuine one, it will be probable that Ignatius is directly alluding to the narrative which is peculiar to the first Evangelist. These are (so far as I am aware) the only coincidences that are found in the Curetonian version. Their paucity cannot surprise us, as in the same Curetonian text there is not a single quotation from the Old Testament. One Old Testament quotation and two Evangelical allusions occur in the Epistle to the Ephesians, which is one of the three contained in Cureton's MS.; the fifth and sixth chapters, however, in which they are found, are wanting in the Syriac. The allusions are, in Eph. v, 'For if the prayer of one or two have such power, how much more that of the bishop and of the whole Church,' which appears to have some relation to Matt. xviii. 19 ('If two of you shall agree' &c.), and in Eph. vi, 'For all whom the master of the house sends to be over his own household we ought to receive as we should him that sent him,' which may be compared with Matt. x. 40 ('He that receiveth you' &c.). Both these allusions have some probability, though neither can be regarded as at all certain. The Epistle to the Trallians has one coincidence in c. xi, 'These are not plants of the Father' ([Greek: phyteia Patros]), which recalls the striking expression of Matt. xv. 13, 'Every plant ([Greek: pasa phyteia]) that my heavenly Father hath not planted shall be rooted up.' This is a marked metaphor, and it is not found in the other Synoptics; it is therefore at least more probable that it is taken from St. Matthew. The same must be said of another remarkable phrase in the Epistle to the Smyrnaeans, c. vi, [Greek: ho choron choreito] ([Greek: ho dynamenos chorein choreito], Matt. xix. 12), and also of the statement in c. i. of the same Epistle that Jesus was baptized by John 'that He might fulfil all righteousness' ([Greek: hina plaerothae pasa dikaiosynae hup' autou]). This corresponds with the language of Matt. iii. 15 ([Greek: houtos gar prepon estin haemin plaerosai pasan dikaiosynaen]), which also has no parallel in the other Gospels. The use of the phrase [Greek: plaerosai pasan dikaiosynaen] is so peculiar, and falls in so entirely with the characteristic Christian Judaizing of our first Evangelist, that it seems especially unreasonable to refer it to any one else. There is not the smallest particle of evidence to connect it with the Gospel according to the Hebrews to which our author seems to hint that it may belong; indeed all that we know of that Gospel may be said almost positively to exclude it. In this Gospel our Lord is represented as saying, when His mother and His brethren urge that He should accept baptism from John, 'What have I sinned that I should go and be baptized by him?' and it is almost by compulsion that He is at last induced to accompany them. It will be seen that this is really an _opposite_ version of the event to that of Ignatius and the first Gospel, where the objection comes from _John_ and is overruled by our Lord Himself [Endnote 81:1]. There is however one quotation, introduced as such, in this same Epistle, the source of which Eusebius did not know, but which Origen refers to the 'Preaching of Peter' and Jerome seems to have found in the Nazarene version of the 'Gospel according to the Hebrews.' This phrase is attributed to our Lord when He appeared 'to those about Peter and said to them, Handle Me and see that I am not an incorporeal spirit' ([Greek: psaelaphaesate me, kai idete, hoti ouk eimi daimonion asomaton]). But for the statement of Origen that these words occurred in the 'Preaching of Peter' they might have been referred without much difficulty to Luke xxiv. 39. The Preaching of Peter seems to have begun with the Resurrection, and to have been an offshoot rather in the direction of the Acts than the Gospels [Endnote 81:2]. It would not therefore follow from the use of it by Ignatius here, that the other quotations could also be referred to it. And, supposing it to be taken from the 'Gospel according to the Hebrews,' this would not annul what has been said above as to the reason for thinking that Ignatius (or the writer who bears his name) cannot have used that Gospel systematically and alone. 4. Is the Epistle which purports to have been written by Polycarp to the Philippians to be accepted as genuine? It is mentioned in the most express terms by Irenaeus, who declares himself to have been a disciple of Polycarp in his early youth, and speaks enthusiastically of the teaching which he then received. Irenaeus was writing between the years 180-190 A.D., and Polycarp is generally allowed to have suffered martyrdom about 167 or 168 [Endnote 82:1]. But the way in which Irenaeus speaks of the Epistle is such as to imply, not only that it had been for some time in existence, but also that it had been copied and disseminated and had attained a somewhat wide circulation. He is appealing to the Catholic tradition in opposition to heretical teaching such as that of Valentinus and Marcion, and he says, 'There is an Epistle written by Polycarp to the Philippians of great excellence [Greek: hikanotatae], from which those who wish to do so and who care for their own salvation may learn both the character of his faith and the preaching of the truth' [Endnote 82:2]. He would hardly have used such language if he had not had reason to think that the Epistle was at least fairly accessible to the Christians for whom he is writing. But allowing for the somewhat slow (not too slow) multiplication and dissemination of writings among the Christians, this will throw back the composition of the letter well into the lifetime of Polycarp himself. In any case it must have been current in circles immediately connected with Polycarp's person. Against external evidence such as this the objections that are brought are really of very slight weight. That which is reproduced in 'Supernatural Religion' from an apparent contradiction between c. ix and c. xiii, is dismissed even by writers such as Ritschl who believe that one or both chapters are interpolated. In c. ix the martyrdom of Ignatius is upheld as an example, in c. xiii Polycarp asks for information about Ignatius 'et de his qui cum eo sunt,' apparently as if he were still living. But, apart from the easy and obvious solution which is accepted by Ritschl, following Hefele and others, [Endnote 83:1] that the sentence is extant only in the Latin translation and that the phrase 'qui cum eo sunt' is merely a paraphrase for [Greek: ton met' autou]; apart from this, even supposing the objection were valid, it would prove nothing against the genuineness of the Epistle. It might be taken to prove that the second passage is an interpolation; but a contradiction between two passages in the same writing in no way tends to show that that writing is not by its ostensible author. But surely either interpolator or forger must have had more sense than to place two such gross and absurd contradictions within about sixty lines of each other. An argument brought by Dr. Hilgenfeld against the date dissolves away entirely on examination. He thinks that the exhortation Orate pro regibus (et potestatibus et principibus) in c. xii must needs refer to the double rule of Antoninus Pius (147 A.D.) or Marcus Aurelius and Lucius Verus (161 A.D.). But the writer of the Epistle is only reproducing the words of St. Paul in 1 Tim. ii. 2 ([Greek: parakalo ... poieisthai deaeseis ... hyper basileon kai panton ton en hyperochae onton]). The passage is wrongly referred in 'Supernatural Religion' to 1 Pet. ii. 17 [Endnote 84:1]. It is very clear that the language of Polycarp, like that of St. Paul, is quite general. In order to limit it to the two Caesars we should have had to read [Greek: hyper ton basileon]. The allusions which Schwegler finds to the Gnostic heresies are explained when that critic at the end of his argument objects to the Epistle that it makes use of a number of writings 'the origin of which must be placed in the second century, such as the Acts, 1 Peter, the Epistles to the Philippians and to the Ephesians, and 1 Timothy.' The objection belongs to the gigantic confusion of fact and hypothesis which makes up the so-called Tübingen theory, and falls to the ground with it. It should be noticed that those who regard the Epistle as interpolated yet maintain the genuineness of those portions which are thought to contain allusions to the Gospels. Ritschl states this [Endnote 84:2]; Dr. Donaldson confines the interpolation to c. xiii [Endnote 84:3]; and Volkmar not only affirms with his usual energy the genuineness of these portions of the Epistle, but he also asserts that the allusions are really to our Gospels [Endnote 84:4]. The first that meets us is in c. ii, 'Remembering what the Lord said teaching, judge not that ye be not judged; forgive and it shall be forgiven unto you; pity that ye may be pitied; with what measure ye mete it shall be measured unto you again; and that blessed are the poor and those who are persecuted for righteousness' sake, for theirs is the kingdom of God' [Endnote 85:1]. This passage (if taken from our Gospels) is not a continuous quotation, but is made up from Luke vi. 36-38, 20, Matt. v. 10, or of still more _disjecta membra_ of St. Matthew. It will be seen that it covers very similar ground with the quotation in Clement, and there is also a somewhat striking point of similarity with that writer in the phrase [Greek: eleeite hina eleaetheate]. There is moreover a closer resemblance than to our Gospels in the clause [Greek: aphiete kai aphethaesetai humin]. But the order of the clauses is entirely different from that in Clement, and the first clause [Greek: mae krinete hina mae krithaete] is identical with St. Matthew and more nearly resembles the parallel in St. Luke than in Clement. These are perplexing phenomena, and seem to forbid a positive judgment. It would be natural to suppose, and all that we know of the type of doctrine in the early Church would lead us to believe, that the Sermon on the Mount would be one of the most familiar parts of Christian teaching, that it would be largely committed to memory and quoted from memory. There would be no difficulty in employing that hypothesis here if the passage stood alone. The breaking up of the order too would not surprise us when we compare the way in which the same discourse appears in St. Luke and in St. Matthew. But then comes in the strange coincidence in the single clause with Clement; and there is also another curious phenomenon, the phrase [Greek: aphiete kai aphethaesetai humin] compared with Luke's [Greek: apoluete kai apoluthaesesthe] has very much the appearance of a parallel translation from the same Aramaic original, which may perhaps be the famous 'Spruch-sammlung.' This might however be explained as the substitution of synonymous terms by the memory. There is I believe nothing in the shape of direct evidence to show the presence of a different version of the Sermon on the Mount in any of the lost Gospels, and, on the other hand, there are considerable traces of disturbance in the Canonical text (compare e.g. the various readings on Matt. v. 44). It seems on the whole difficult to construct a theory that shall meet all the facts. Perhaps a mixed hypothesis would be best. It is probable that memory has been to some extent at work (the form of the quotation naturally suggests this) and is to account for some of Polycarp's variations; at the same time I cannot but think that there has been somewhere a written version different from our Gospels to which he and Clement have had access. There are several other sayings which seem to belong to the Sermon on the Mount; thus in c. vi, 'If we pray the Lord to forgive us we also ought to forgive' (cf. Matt. vi. 14 sq.); in c. viii, 'And if we suffer for His name let us glorify Him' (cf. Matt. v. 11 sq.); in c. xii, 'Pray for them that persecute you and hate you, and for the enemies of the cross; that your fruit may be manifest in all things, that ye may be therein perfect' (cf. Matt. v. 44, 48). All these passages give the sense, but only the sense, of the first (and partly also of the third) Gospel. There is however one quotation which coincides verbally with two of the Synoptics [Praying the all-seeing God not to lead us into temptation, as the Lord said], The spirit indeed is willing but the flesh is weak ([Greek: to men pneuma prothumon, hae de sarx asthenaes], Matt., Mark, Polycarp; with the introductory clause compare, not Matt. vi. 13, but xxvi. 41). In the cases where the sense alone is given there is no reason to think that the writer intends to give more. At the same time it will be observed that all the quotations refer either to the double or triple synopsis where we have already proof of the existence of the saying in question in more than a single form, and not to those portions that are peculiar to the individual Evangelists. The author of 'Supernatural Religion' is therefore not without reason when he says that they may be derived from other collections than our actual Gospels. The possibility cannot be excluded. It ought however to be borne in mind that if such collections did exist, and if Polycarp's allusions or quotations are to be referred to them, they are to the same extent evidence that these hypothetical collections did not materially differ from our present Gospels, but rather bore to them very much the same relation that they bear to each other. And I do not know that we can better sum up the case in regard to the Apostolic Fathers than thus; we have two alternatives to choose between, either they made use of our present Gospels, or else of writings so closely resembling our Gospels and so nearly akin to them that their existence only proves the essential unity and homogeneity of the evangelical tradition. CHAPTER IV. JUSTIN MARTYR. Hitherto the extant remains of Christian literature have been scanty and the stream of evangelical quotation has been equally so, but as we approach the middle of the second century it becomes much more abundant. We have copious quotations from a Gospel used about the year 140 by Marcion; the Clementine Homilies, the date of which however is more uncertain, also contain numerous quotations; and there are still more in the undoubted works of Justin Martyr. When I speak of quotations, I do not wish to beg the question by implying that they are necessarily taken from our present Gospels, I merely mean quotations from an evangelical document of some sort. This reservation has to be made especially in regard to Justin. Strictly according to the chronological order we should not have to deal with Justin until somewhat later, but it will perhaps be best to follow the order of 'Supernatural Religion,' the principle of which appears to be to discuss the orthodox writers first and heretical writings afterwards. Modern critics seem pretty generally to place the two Apologies in the years 147-150 A.D. and the Dialogue against Tryphon a little later. Dr. Keim indeed would throw forward the date of Justin's writings as far as from 155-160 on account of the mention of Marcion [Endnote 89:1], but this is decided by both Hilgenfeld [Endnote 89:2] and Lipsius to be too late. I see that Mr. Hort, whose opinion on such matters deserves high respect, comes to the conclusion 'that we may without fear of considerable error set down Justin's First Apology to 145, or better still to 146, and his death to 148. The Second Apology, if really separate from the First, will then fall in 146 or 147, and the Dialogue with Tryphon about the same time' [Endnote 89:3] No definite conclusion can be drawn from the title given by Justin to the work or works he used, that of the 'Memoirs' or 'Recollections' of the Apostles, and it will be best to leave our further enquiry quite unfettered by any assumption in respect to them. The title certainly does not of necessity imply a single work composed by the Apostles collectively [Endnote 89:4], any more than the parallel phrase 'the writings of the Prophets' [Endnote 89:5] ([Greek: ta sungrammata ton prophaeton]), which Justin couples with the 'Memoirs' as read together in the public services of the Church, implies a single and joint production on the part of the Prophets. This hypothesis too is open to the very great objection that so authoritative a work, if it existed, should have left absolutely no other trace behind it. So far as the title is concerned, the 'Memoirs of the Apostles' may be either a single work or an almost indefinite number. In one place Justin says that the Memoirs were composed 'by His Apostles and their followers' [Endnote 90:1], which seems to agree remarkably, though not exactly, with the statement in the prologue to St. Luke. In another he says expressly that the Memoirs are called Gospels ([Greek: ha kaleitai euangelia]) [Endnote 90:2]. This clause has met with the usual fate of parenthetic statements which do not quite fall in with preconceived opinions, and is dismissed as a 'manifest interpolation,' a gloss having crept into the text from the margin. It would be difficult to estimate the exact amount of probability for or against this theory, but possible at any rate it must be allowed to be; and though the _primâ facie_ view of the genuineness of the words is supported by another place in which a quotation is referred directly 'to the Gospel,' still too much ought not perhaps to be built on this clause alone. * * * * * A convenient distinction may be drawn between the material and formal use of the Gospels; and the most satisfactory method perhaps will be, to run rapidly through Justin's quotations, first with a view to ascertain their relation to the Canonical Gospels in respect to their general historical tenor, and secondly to examine the amount of verbal agreement. I will try to bring out as clearly as possible the double phenomena both of agreement and difference; the former (in regard to which condensation will be necessary) will be indicated both by touching in the briefest manner the salient points and by the references in the margin; the latter, which I have endeavoured to give as exhaustively as possible, are brought out by italics in the text. The thread of the narrative then, so far as it can be extracted from the genuine writings of Justin, will be much as follows [Endnote 91:1]. According to Justin the Messiah was born, without sin, of a [SIDENOTES] virgin _who_ was descended from [SIDENOTES] [Matt. 1.2-6.] David, Jesse, Phares, Judah, [Luke 3.31-34.] Jacob, Isaac, and Abraham, if not (the reading here is doubtful) from Adam himself. [Justin therefore, it may be inferred, had before him a genealogy, though not apparently, as the Canonical Gospels, that of Joseph but of Mary.] To Mary it was announced by the angel Gabriel [Luke 1.26.] that, while yet a virgin, the power of God, or of the Highest, [Luke 1.35.] should overshadow her and she should conceive and bear a Son [Luke 1.31.] [Matt. 1.21.] whose name she should call Jesus, because He should save His people from their sins. Joseph observing that Mary, his espoused, was with child was [Matt. 1.18-25.] warned in a dream not to put her away, because that which was in her womb was of the Holy Ghost. Thus the prophecy, [Matt. 1.23.] Is. vii. 14 (Behold the virgin &c.), was fulfilled. The mother of John the Baptist was [Luke 1.57.] Elizabeth. The birth-place of the Messiah had been indicated [Matt. 2.5, 6.] by the prophecy of Micah (v. 2, Bethlehem not the least among the princes of Judah). There He was born, as the Romans might learn from the census taken by Cyrenius the first _procurator_ [Greek: [Luke 2.1, 2.] epitropou] _of Judaea_. His life extended from Cyrenius to Pontius Pilate. So, in consequence of this the first census in Judaea, Joseph went up from Nazareth where he dwelt to [Luke 2.4.] Bethlehem _whence he was_, as a member of the tribe of Judah. The parents of Jesus could find no lodging in Bethlehem, so it [Luke 2.7.] came to pass that He was born _in a cave near the village_ and laid in a manger. At His birth [_ibid._] [Matt. 2.1.] there came Magi _from Arabia_, who knew by a star that had appeared in the _heaven_ that a [Matt. 2.2.] king had been born in Judaea. Having paid Him their homage [Matt. 2.11.] and offered gifts of gold, frankincense and myrrh, they were [Matt. 2.12.] warned not to return to Herod [Matt. 2. 1-7.] whom they had consulted on the way. He however not willing that the Child should escape, [Matt. 2.16.] ordered a massacre of _all_ the children in Bethlehem, fulfilling [Matt. 2.17, 18.] the prophecy of Jer. xxxi. 15 (Rachel weeping for her children &c.). Joseph and his wife meanwhile [Matt. 2.13-15.] with the Babe had fled to Egypt, for the Father resolved that He to whom He had given birth should not die before He had preached His word as a man. There they stayed [Matt. 2.22] until Archelaus succeeded Herod, and then returned. By process of nature He grew to the age of thirty years or [Luke 3.23.] more, _not comely of aspect_ (_as had been prophesied_), practising [Mark 6.3.] the trade of a carpenter, _making ploughs and yokes, emblems of righteousness_. He remained hidden till John, the herald of his coming, came forward, the [Matt 17.12, 13.] spirit of Elias being in him, and [Matt. 3.2.] as he _sat_ by the river Jordan [Luke 3.3.] cried to men to repent. As he [Matt. 3.4.] preached in his wild garb he declared that he was not the [John 1.19 ff.] Christ, but that One stronger [Matt. 3.11, 12.] than he was coming after him [Luke 3. 16, 17.] whose shoes he was not worthy to bear, &c. The later history of John Justin also mentions, [Matt. 14.3.] how, having been put in prison, [Luke 3.20.] at a feast on Herod's birthday [Matt. 14.6 ff.] he was beheaded at the instance of his sister's daughter. This [Matt. 17.11-13.] John was Elias who was to come before the Christ. At the baptism of Jesus _a fire was kindled on the Jordan_, and, as He went up out of the water, [Matt. 3.16.] the Holy Ghost alighted upon [Luke 3.21, 22.] Him, and a voice was heard from heaven _saying in the words of David_, 'Thou art My Son, _this day have I begotten Thee_.' After [Matt. 4.1, 9.] His baptism He was tempted by the devil, who ended by claiming homage from Him. To this Christ replied, 'Get thee behind [Matt 4.11.] Me, Satan,' &c. So the devil [Luke 4.13.] departed from Him at that time worsted and convicted. Justin knew that the words of Jesus were short and concise, not like those of a Sophist. That He wrought miracles _might be learnt from the Acts of Pontius Pilate, fulfilling Is. xxxv. 4-6._ [Matt. 9.29-31, Those who from their _birth_ were [Luke 18.35-43.] 32, 33. 1-8.] blind, dumb, lame, He healed-- [Luke 11.14 ff.] [Matt. 4.23.] indeed He healed all sickness and [Luke 5.17-26.] [Matt 9.18 ff.] disease--and He raised the dead. [Luke 8.41 ff.] _The Jews ascribed these miracles [Luke 7. 11-18.] to magic_. Jesus, too (like John, _whose mission ceased when He appeared in public_), began His ministry [Matt 4.17.] by proclaiming that the kingdom of heaven was at hand. Many precepts of the Sermon on the Mount Justin has preserved, [Matt 5.20.] the righteousness of the [Matt 5.28.] Scribes and Pharisees, the [Matt 5.29-32.] adultery of the heart, the offending [Matt 5.34, 37, eye, divorce, oaths, returning 39] [Matt 5.44.] good for evil, loving and praying [Matt 5.42.] for enemies, giving to those that [Luke 6.30.] [Matt 6.19, 20.] need, placing the treasure in [Matt 6.25-27.] heaven, not caring for bodily [Luke 12.22-24.] [Matt 5.45.] wants, but copying the mercy [Matt 6.21, &c.] and goodness of God, not acting from worldly motives--above all, [Matt 7.22, 23.] deeds not words. [Luke 13.26, 27.] Justin quotes sayings from [Matt. 8.11, 12.] the narrative of the centurion [Luke 13.28, 29.] [Matt. 9.13.] of Capernaum and of the feast [Luke 5.32.] in the house of Matthew. He [Matt. 10.1 ff.] has, the choosing of the twelve [Luke 6.13.] Apostles, with the name given [Mark 3.17.] to the sons of Zebedee, Boanerges or 'sons of thunder,' the com- mission of the Apostles, the [Luke 10.19.] [Matt. 11.12-15.] discourse after the departure of [Luke 16.16.] the messengers of John, the [Matt. 16.4.] sign of the prophet Jonas, the [Matt. 13.3 ff.] parable of the sower, Peter's [Luke 8.5 ff.] [Matt. 16.15-18.] confession, the announcement of [Luke 9.22.] [Matt. 16.21.] the Passion. From the account of the last journey and the closing scenes of our Lord's life, Justin has, [Matt. 19.16,17.] the history of the rich young [Luke 18.18,19.] [Matt. 21.1 ff.] man, the entry into Jerusalem, [Luke 19.29 ff.] the cleansing of the Temple, the [Luke 19.46.] [Matt. 22.11.] wedding garment, the controversial discourses about the [Luke 20.22-25.] [Matt. 22.21.] tribute money, the resurrection, [Luke 20.35,36.] [Matt. 22.37,38.] and the greatest commandment, [Matt. 23.2 ff.] those directed against the Pha- [Luke 11.42,52.] [Matt. 25.34,41.] risees and the eschatological [Matt. 25.14-30.] discourse, the parable of the talents. Justin's account of the institution of the Lord's Supper [Luke 22.19,20.] agrees with that of Luke. After [Matt. 26.30.] it Jesus sang a hymn, and taking [Matt. 26.36,37.] with Him three of His disciples to the Mount of Olives He was in an agony, His sweat falling in [Luke 22.42-44.] _drops_ (not necessarily of blood) to the ground. His captors surrounded Him _like the 'horned bulls' of Ps. xxii._ 11-14; there [Matt. 26.56.] was none to help, for His followers _to a man_ forsook Him. [Matt. 26.57 ff.] He was led both before the [Luke 22.66 ff.] Scribes and Pharisees and before [Matt. 27.11 ff.] Pilate. In the trial before Pilate [Luke 23.1 ff.] [Matt. 27.14] He kept silence, _as Ps. xxii._ 15. Pilate sent Him bound to Herod. [Luke 23.7.] Justin relates most of the incidents of the Crucifixion in detail, for confirmation of which he refers to the _Acts of Pilate_. He marks especially the fulfilment in various places of Ps. xxii. He has the piercing with nails, the casting of [Luke 24.40.] [Matt. 27.35.] lots and dividing of the garments, [Luke 23.34.] [Matt. 27.39 ff.] the _sneers_ of the crowd [Luke 23.35.] (somewhat expanded from the [Matt. 27.42.] Synoptics), and their taunt, _He who raised the dead_ let Him save [Matt. 27.46.] Himself; also the cry of despair, 'My God, My God, why hast Thou forsaken Me?' and the last words, 'Father, into Thy hands [Luke 23.46.] I commend My Spirit.' [Matt. 27.57-60.] The burial took place in the evening, the disciples being all [Matt. 26.31,56.] scattered in accordance with Zech. xiii. 7. On the third day, [Luke 24.21.] [Matt. 28.1 ff.] the day of the sun or the first [Luke 24.1 ff.] (or eighth) day of the week, Jesus rose from the dead. He then convinced His disciples that His sufferings had been prophe- [Luke 24.26, 46.] tically foretold and they repented [Luke 24.32.] of having deserted Him. Having given them His last commission they saw Him ascend up into [Luke 24.50.] heaven. Thus believing and having first waited to receive power from Him they went forth into all the world and preached the word of God. To this day [Matt. 28.19] Christians baptize in the name of the Father of all, and of our Saviour Jesus Christ, and of the Holy Ghost. [Matt. 28.12-15.] The Jews spread a story that the disciples stole the body of Jesus from the grave and so deceived men by asserting that He was risen from the dead and ascended into heaven. There is nothing in Justin (as in Luke xxiv, but cp. Acts i. 3) to show that the Ascension did not take place _on the same day_ as the Resurrection. I have taken especial pains in the above summary to bring out the points in which Justin way seem to differ from or add to the canonical narratives. But, without stopping at present to consider the bearing of these upon Justin's relation to the Gospels, I will at once proceed to make some general remarks which the summary seems to suggest. (1) If such is the outline of Justin's Gospel, it appears to be really a question of comparatively small importance whether or not he made use of our present Gospels in their present form. If he did not use these Gospels he used other documents which contained substantially the same matter. The question of the reality of miracles clearly is not affected. Justin's documents, whatever they were, not only contained repeated notices of the miracles in general, the healing of the lame and the paralytic, of the maimed and the dumb, and the raising of the dead--not only did they include several discourses, such as the reply to the messengers of John and the saying to the Centurion whose servant was healed, which have direct reference to miracles, but they also give marked prominence to the chief and cardinal miracles of the Gospel history, the Incarnation and the Resurrection. It is antecedently quite possible that the narrative of these events may have been derived from a document other than our Gospels; but, if so, that is only proof of the existence of further and independent evidence to the truth of the history. This document, supposing it to exist, is a surprising instance of the homogeneity of the evangelical tradition; it differs from the three Synoptic Gospels, nay, we may say even from the four Gospels, _less_ than they differ from each other. (2) But we may go further than this. If Justin really used a separate substantive document now lost, that document, to judge from its contents, must have represented a secondary, or rather a tertiary, stage of the evangelical literature; it must have implied the previous existence of our present Gospels. I do not now allude to the presence in it of added traits, such as the cave of the Nativity and the fire on Jordan, which are of the nature of those mythical details that we find more fully developed in the Apocryphal Gospels. I do not so much refer to these--though, for instance, in the case of the fire on Jordan it is highly probable that Justin's statement is a translation into literal fact of the canonical (and Justinian) saying, 'He shall baptize with the Holy Ghost and with fire'--but, on general grounds, the relation which this supposed document bears to the extant Gospels shows that it must have been in point of time posterior to them. The earlier stages of evangelical composition present a nucleus, with a more or less defined circumference, of unity, and outside of this a margin of variety. There was a certain body of narrative, which, in whatever form it was handed down--whether as oral or written--at a very early date obtained a sort of general recognition, and seems to have been as a matter of course incorporated in the evangelical works as they appeared. Besides this there was also other matter which, without such general recognition, had yet a considerable circulation, and, though not found in all, was embodied in more than one of the current compilations. But, as we should naturally expect, these two classes did not exhaust the whole of the evangelical matter. Each successive historian found himself able by special researches to add something new and as yet unpublished to the common stock. Thus, the first of our present Evangelists has thirty-five sections or incidents besides the whole of the first two chapters peculiar to himself. The third Evangelist has also two long chapters of preliminary history, and as many as fifty-six sections or incidents which have no parallel in the other Gospels. Much of this peculiar matter in each case bears an individual and characteristic stamp. The opening chapters of the first and third Synoptics evidently contain two distinct and independent traditions. So independent indeed are they, that the negative school of critics maintain them to be irreconcilable, and the attempts to harmonise them have certainly not been completely successful [Endnote 101:1]. These differences, however, show what rich quarries of tradition were open to the enquirer in the first age of Christianity, and how readily he might add to the stores already accumulated by his predecessors. But this state of things did not last long. As in most cases of the kind, the productive period soon ceased, and the later writers had a choice of two things, either to harmonise the conflicting records of previous historians, or to develope their details in the manner that we find in the Apocryphal Gospels. But if Justin used a single and separate document or any set of documents independent of the canonical, then we may say with confidence that that document or set of documents belonged entirely to this secondary stage. It possesses both the marks of secondary formation. Such details as are added to the previous evangelical tradition are just of that character which we find in the Apocryphal Gospels. But these details are comparatively slight and insignificant; the main tendency of Justin's Gospel (supposing it to be a separate composition) was harmonistic. The writer can hardly have been ignorant of our Canonical Gospels; he certainly had access, if not to them, yet to the sources, both general and special, from which they are taken. He not only drew from the main body of the evangelical tradition, but also from those particular and individual strains which appear in the first and third Synoptics. He has done this in the spirit of a true _desultor_, passing backwards and forwards first to one and then to the other, inventing no middle links, but merely piecing together the two accounts as best he could. Indeed the preliminary portions of Justin's Gospel read very much like the sort of rough _primâ facie_ harmony which, without any more profound study, most people make for themselves. But the harmonising process necessarily implies matter to harmonise, and that matter must have had the closest possible resemblance to the contents of our Gospels. If, then, Justin made use either of a single document or set of documents distinct from those which have become canonical, we conclude that it or they belonged to a later and more advanced stage of formation. But it should be remembered that the case is a hypothetical one. The author of 'Supernatural Religion' seems inclined to maintain that Justin did use such a document or documents, and not our Gospels. If he did, then the consequence above stated seems to follow. But I do not at all care to press this inference; it is no more secure than the premiss upon which it is founded. Only it seems to me that the choice lies between two alternatives and no more; either Justin used our Gospels, or else he used a document later than our Gospels and presupposing them. The reader may take which side of the alternative he pleases. The question is, which hypothesis best covers and explains the facts. It is not impossible that Justin may have had a special Gospel such as has just been described. There is a tendency among those critics who assign Justin's quotations to an uncanonical source to find that source in the so-called Gospel according to the Hebrews or some of its allied forms. But a large majority of critics regard the Gospel according to the Hebrews as holding precisely this secondary relation to the canonical Matthew. Justin's document can hardly have been the Gospel according to the Hebrews, at least alone, as that Gospel omitted the section Matt. i. 18-ii. 23 [Endnote 103:1], which Justin certainly retained. But it is within the bounds of possibility--it would be hazardous to say more--that he may have had another Gospel so modified and compiled as to meet all the conditions of the case. For my own part, I think it decidedly the more probable hypothesis that he used our present Gospels with some peculiar document, such as this Gospel according to the Hebrews, or perhaps, as Dr. Hilgenfeld thinks, the ground document of the Gospel according to Peter (a work of which we know next to nothing except that it favoured Docetism and was not very unlike the Canonical Gospels) and the Protevangelium of James (or some older document on which that work was founded) in addition. It will be well to try to establish this position a little more in detail; and therefore I will proceed to collect first, the evidence for the use, either mediate or direct, of the Synoptic Gospels, and secondly, that for the use of one or more Apocryphal Gospels. We still keep to the substance of Justin's Gospel, and reserve the question of its form. Of those portions of the first Synoptic which appear to be derived from a peculiar source, and for the presence of which we have no evidence in any other Gospel of the same degree of originality, Justin has the following: Joseph's suspicions of his wife, the special statement of the significance of the name Jesus ('for He shall save His people from their sins,' Matt. i. 21, verbally identical), the note upon the fulfilment of the prophecy Is. vii. 14 ('Behold a virgin,' &c.), the visit of the Magi guided by a star, their peculiar gifts, their consultation of Herod and the warning given them not to return to him, the massacre of the children at Bethlehem, fulfilling Jer. xxxi. 15, the descent into Egypt, the return of the Holy Family at the succession of Archelaus. The Temptations Justin gives in the order of Matthew. From the Sermon on the Mount he has the verses v. 14, 20, 28, vi. 1, vii. 15, 21, and from the controversial discourse against the Pharisees, xxiii. 15, 24, which are without parallels. The prophecy, Is. xlii. 1-4, is applied as by Matthew alone. There is an apparent allusion to the parable of the wedding garment. The comment of the disciples upon the identification of the Baptist with Elias (Matt. xvii. 13), the sign of the prophet Jonas (Matt. xvi. 1, 4), and the triumphal entry (the ass _with the colt_), show a special affinity to St. Matthew. And, lastly, in concert with the same Evangelist, Justin has the calumnious report of the Jews (Matt. xxviii. 12 15) and the baptismal formula (Matt. xxviii. 19). Of the very few details that are peculiar to St. Mark, Justin has the somewhat remarkable one of the bestowing of the surname Boanerges on the sons of Zebedee. Mark also appears to approach most nearly to Justin in the statements that Jesus practised the trade of a carpenter (cf. Mark vi. 3) and that He healed those who were diseased _from their birth_ (cf. Mark ix. 21), and perhaps in the emphasis upon the oneness of God in the reply respecting the greatest commandment. In common with St. Luke, Justin has the mission of the angel Gabriel to Mary, the statement that Elizabeth was the mother of John, that the census was taken under Cyrenius, that Joseph went up from Nazareth to Bethlehem [Greek: hothen aen], that no room was found in the inn, that Jesus was thirty years old when He began His ministry, that He was sent from Pilate to Herod, with the account of His last words. There are also special affinities in the phrase quoted from the charge to the Seventy (Luke x. 19), in the verse Luke xi. 52, in the account of the answer to the rich young man, of the institution of the Lord's Supper, of the Agony in the Garden, and of the Resurrection and Ascension. These coincidences are of various force. Some of the single verses quoted, though possessing salient features in common, have also, as we shall see, more or less marked differences. Too much stress should not be laid on the allegation of the same prophecies, because there may have been a certain understanding among the Christians as to the prophecies to be quoted as well as the versions in which they were to be quoted. But there are other points of high importance. Just in proportion as an event is from a historical point of view suspicious, it is significant as a proof of the use of the Gospel in which it is contained; such would be the adoration of the Magi, the slaughter of the innocents, the flight into Egypt, the conjunction of the foal with the ass in the entry into Jerusalem. All these are strong evidence for the use of the first Gospel, which is confirmed in the highest degree by the occurrence of a reflection peculiar to the Evangelist, 'Then the disciples understood that He spake unto them of John the Baptist' (Matt. xvii. 13, compare Dial. 49). Of the same nature are the allusions to the census of Cyrenius (there is no material discrepancy between Luke and Justin), and the statement of the age at which the ministry of Jesus began. These are almost certainly remarks by the third Evangelist himself, and not found in any previously existing source. The remand to Herod in all probability belonged to a source that was quite peculiar to him. The same may be said with only a little less confidence of the sections of the preliminary history. Taking these salient points together with the mass of the coincidences each in its place, and with the due weight assigned to it, the conviction seems forced upon us that Justin did either mediately or immediately, and most probably immediately and directly, make use of our Canonical Gospels. On the other hand, the argument that he used, whether in addition to these or exclusively, a Gospel now lost, rests upon the following data. Justin apparently differs from the Synoptics in giving the genealogy of Mary, not of Joseph. In Apol. i. 34 he says that Cyrenius was the first governor (procurator) of Judaea, instead of saying that the census first took place under Cyrenius. [It should be remarked, however, that in another place, Dial. 78, he speaks of 'the census which then took place for the first time ([Greek: ousaes tote protaes]) under Cyrenius.'] He states that Mary brought forth her Son in a cave near the village of Bethlehem. He ten times over speaks of the Magi as coming from Arabia, and not merely from the East. He says emphatically that all the children ([Greek: pantas haplos tous paidas]) in Bethlehem were slain without mentioning the limitation of age given in St. Matthew. He alludes to details in the humble occupation of Jesus who practised the trade of a carpenter. Speaking of the ministry of John, he three times repeats the phrase _'as he sat'_ by the river Jordan. At the baptism of Jesus he says that 'fire was kindled on' or rather 'in the Jordan,' and that a voice was heard saying, 'Thou art My Son, this day have I begotten Thee.' He adds to the notice of the miracles that the Jews thought they were the effect of magic. Twice he refers, as evidence for what he is saying, to the Acts of Pontius Pilate. In two places Justin sees a fulfilment of Ps. xxii, where none is pointed out by the Synoptics. He says that _all_ the disciples forsook their Master, which seems to overlook Peter's attack on the high priest's servant. In the account of the Crucifixion he somewhat amplifies the Synoptic version of the mocking gestures of the crowd. And besides these matters of fact he has two sayings, 'In whatsoever I find you, therein will I also judge you,' and 'There shall be schisms and heresies,' which are without parallel, or have no exact parallel, in our Gospels. Some of these points are not of any great importance. The reference to the Acts of Pilate should in all probability be taken along with the parallel reference to the census of Cyrenius, in which Justin asserts that the birth of Jesus would be found registered. Both appear to be based, not upon any actual document that Justin had seen, but upon the bold assumption that the official documents must contain a record of facts which he knew from other sources [Endnote 107:1]. In regard to Cyrenius he evidently has the Lucan version in his mind, though he seems to have confused this with his knowledge that Cyrenius was the first to exercise the Roman sovereignty in Judaea, which was matter of history. Justin seems to be mistaken in regarding Cyrenius as 'procurator' [Greek: epitropou] of Judaea. He instituted the census not in this capacity, but as proconsul of Syria. The first procurator of Judaea was Coponius. Some of Justin's peculiarities may quite fairly be explained as unintentional. General statements without the due qualifications, such as those in regard to the massacre of the children and the conduct of the disciples in Gethsemane, are met with frequently enough to this day, and in works of a more professedly critical character than Justin's. The description of the carpenter's trade and of the crowd at the Crucifixion may be merely rhetorical amplifications in the one case of the general Synoptic statement, in the other of the special statement in St. Mark. A certain fulness of style is characteristic of Justin. That he attributes the genealogy to Mary may be a natural instance of reflection; the inconsistency in the Synoptic Gospels would not be at first perceived, and the simplest way of removing it would be that which Justin has adopted. It should be noticed however that he too distinctly says that Joseph was of the tribe of Judah (Dial. 78) and that his family came from Bethlehem, which looks very much like an unobliterated trace of the same inconsistency. It is also noticeable that in the narrative of the Baptism one of the best MSS. of the Old Latin (a, Codex Vercellensis) has, in the form of an addition to Matt. iii. 15, 'et cum baptizaretur lumen ingens circumfulsit de aqua ita ut timerent omnes qui advenerant,' and there is a very similar addition in g1 (Codex San-Germanensis). Again, in Luke iii. 22 the reading [Greek: ego saemeron gegennaeka se] for [Greek: en soi eudokaesa] is shared with Justin by the most important Graeco- Latin MS. D (Codex Bezae), and a, b, c, ff, l of the Old Version; Augustine expressly states that the reading was found 'in several respectable copies (aliquibus fide dignis exemplaribus), though not in the older Greek Codices.' There will then remain the specifying of Arabia as the home of the Magi, the phrase [Greek: kathezomenos] used of John on the banks of the Jordan, the two unparallelled sentences, and the cave of the Nativity. Of these the phrase [Greek: kathezomenos], which occurs in three places, Dial. 49, 51, 88, but always in Justin's own narrative and not in quotation, _may_ be an accidental recurrence; and it is not impossible that the other items may be derived from an unwritten tradition. Still, on the whole, I incline to think that though there is not conclusive proof that Justin used a lost Gospel besides the present Canonical Gospels, it is the more probable hypothesis of the two that he did. The explanations given above seem to me reasonable and possible; they are enough, I think, to remove the _necessity_ for assuming a lost document, but perhaps not quite enough to destroy the greater probability. This conclusion, we shall find, will be confirmed when we pass from considering the substance of Justin's Gospel to its form. But now if we ask ourselves _what_ was this hypothetical lost document, all we can say is, I believe, that the suggestions hitherto offered are insufficient. The Gospels according to the Hebrews or according to Peter and the Protevangelium of James have been most in favour. The Gospel according to the Hebrews in the form in which it was used by the Nazarenes contained the fire upon Jordan, and as used by the Ebionites it had also the voice, 'This day have I begotten Thee.' Credner [Endnote 110:1], and after him Hilgenfeld [Endnote 110:2], thought that the Gospel according to Peter was used. But we know next to nothing about this Gospel, except that it was nearly related to the Gospel according to the Hebrews, that it made the 'brethren of the Lord' sons of Joseph by a former wife, that it was found by Serapion in the churches of his diocese, Rhossus in Cilicia, that its use was at first permitted but afterwards forbidden, as it was found to favour Docetism, and that its contents were in the main orthodox though in some respects perverted [Endnote 110:3]. Obviously these facts and the name (which falls in with the theory--itself also somewhat unsubstantial--that Justin's Gospel must have a 'Petrine' character) are quite insufficient to build upon. The Protevangelium of James, which it is thought might have been used in an earlier form than that which has come down to us, contains the legend of the cave, and has apparently a similar view to the Gospel last mentioned as to the perpetual virginity of Mary. The kindred Evangelium Thomae has the 'ploughs and yokes.' And there are some similarities of language between the Protevangelium and Justin's Gospel, which will come under review later [Endnote 110:4]. It does not, however, appear to have been noticed that these Gospels satisfy most imperfectly the conditions of the problem. We know that the Gospel according to the Hebrews in its Nazarene form omitted the whole section Matt. i. 18--ii. 23, containing the conception, the nativity, the visit of the Magi, and the flight into Egypt, all of which were found in Justin's Gospel; while in its Ebionite form it left out the first two chapters altogether. There is not a tittle of evidence to show that the Gospel according to Peter was any more complete; in proportion as it resembled the Gospel according to the Hebrews the presumption is that it was not. And the Protevangelium of James makes no mention of Arabia, while it expressly says that the star appeared 'in the East' (instead of 'in the heaven' as Justin); it also omits, and rather seems to exclude, the flight into Egypt. It is therefore clear that whether Justin used these Gospels or not, he cannot in any case have confined himself to them; unless indeed this is possible in regard to the Gospel that bears the name of Peter, though the possibility is drawn so entirely from our ignorance that it can hardly be taken account of. We thus seem to be reduced to the conclusion that Justin's Gospel or Gospels was an unknown entity of which no historical evidence survives, and this would almost be enough, according to the logical Law of Parsimony, to drive us back upon the assumption that our present Gospels only had been used. This assumption however still does not appear to me wholly satisfactory, for reasons which will come out more clearly when from considering the matter of the documents which Justin used we pass to their form. * * * * * The reader already has before him a collection of Justin's quotations from the Old Testament, the results of which may be stated thus. From the Pentateuch eighteen passages are quoted exactly, nineteen with slight variations, and eleven with marked divergence. From the Psalms sixteen exactly, including nine (or ten) whole Psalms, two with slight and three with decided variation. From Isaiah twenty-five exactly, twelve slightly variant, and sixteen decidedly. From the other Major Prophets Justin has only three exact quotations, four slightly divergent, and eleven diverging more widely. From the Minor Prophets and other books he has two exact quotations, seven in which the variation is slight, and thirteen in which it is marked. Of the distinctly free quotations in the Pentateuch (eleven in all), three may be thought to have a Messianic character (the burning bush, the brazen serpent, the curse of the cross), but in none of these does the variation appear to be due to this. Of the three free quotations from the Psalms two are Messianic, and one of these has probably been influenced by the Messianic application. In the free quotations from Isaiah it is not quite easy to say what are Messianic and what are not; but the only clear case in which the Messianic application seems to have caused a marked divergence is xlii. 1-4. Other passages, such as ii. 5, 6, vii. 10-17, lii. l3-liii. 12 (as quoted in A. i. 50), appear under the head of slight variation. The long quotation lii. 10-liv. 6, in Dial. 12, is given with substantial exactness. Turning to the other Major Prophets, one passage, Jer. xxxi. 15, has probably derived its shape from the Messianic application. And in the Minor Prophets three passages (Hos. x. 6, Zech. xii. 10-12, and Micah v. 2) appear to have been thus affected. The rest of the free quotations and some of the variations in those which are less free may be set down to defect of memory or similar accidental causes. Let us now draw up a table of Justin's quotations from the Gospels arranged as nearly as may be on the same standard and scale as that of the quotations from the Old Testament. Such a table will stand thus. [Those only which appear to be direct quotations are given.] _Exact._ |_Slightly variant._ | _Variant._ | _Remarks._ | | | |+D.49, Matt. 3.11, | |repeated in part | 12 (v.l.) | | similarly. |D. 51, Matt. 11. | |compounded with | 12-15; Luke 16. | | omissions but | 16+. | | striking resem- | | | blances. D. 49, Matt. 17. | | | 11-13. | | | |A.1.15, Matt. 5.28. | | | |A.1.15, Matt. 5. |from memory? | | 29; Mark 9.47. | |A.1.15, Matt. 5.32. | |confusion of read- | | | ings. | |+A.1.15, Matt. |from memory? | | 19.12. | | |A.1.15, Matt. 5. |compounded. | | 42; Luke 6.30, | | | 34. | Continuous.{ |A.1.15, Matt. 6. | | { |19, 20; 16.26; 6.20.| | | | | |Continuous.{ |A.1.15 (D.96), |from memory(Cr.), | { | Luke 6.36; | but prob. diff- | { | Matt. 5.45; 6. | erent document; | { | 25-27; Luke 12.| rather marked | { | 22-24; Matt. 6.| identity in | { | 32, 33; 6.21. | phrase. |A.1.15, Matt. 6.1. | | A.1.15, Matt. 9. | | | do the last 13(?). | | | words belong | | | to the | |C | quotation? | |o { A.1.15, Luke| | |n { 6.32; Matt.| | |t { 5.46. | | |i { A.1.15, (D. |repeated in part | |n { 128), Luke | similarly, in | |u { 6.27, 28; | part diversely; | |o { Matt. 5.44. | confusion in | |u | MSS. | |s | | |s | Continuous. { |A.1.16, Luke 6.29 | | { | (Matt. 5.39, 40.) | | { | |A.1.16, Matt. 5. | { | | 22 (v.l.) | { | |A.1.16, Matt. 5 |[Greek: { | | 41. | angaeusei.] { |A.1.16, Matt. 5.16. | | | |D.93, A,1.16, | | | Matt. 22.40,37,| | | 38. | | |A.1.16, D.101, |repeated | | Matt. 19.16, | diversely. | | 17 (v.l.); Luke| | | 18.18,19 (v.l.)| |A.1.16, Matt. 5. | | | 34,37. | | {A.1.16, Matt. | | | { 7.21. | | | C { |A.1.16 (A.1.62), | |repeated in part o { | Luke 10.16 (v.l.) | | similarly, in n { | | | part diversely. t { | |+A.1.16 (D.76), | i { | | Matt. 7.22, 23 | n { | | (v.l.); Luke | u { | | 13.26,27 (v.l.)| o { |A.1.16, Matt. 13. | |addition. u { | 42, 43 (v.l.) | | s { | |A.1.16 (D.35), | { | | Matt. 7.15. | { |A.1.16, Matt. 7. | | { | 16, 19. | | D.76, Matt. 8.11.| | | 12+. | | | | |D.35, [Greek: | | | esontai schi- | | | smata kai hai- | | | reseis.] | |D.76, Matt. 25.41 | | | (v.l.) | | |D.35, Matt. 7.15. | |repeated with | | | nearer | | | approach to | | | Matthew, perh. | | | v.l. | |D.35, 82, Matt. |repeated with | |24.24 (Mark 13. | similarity and | | 22). | divergence. | |D.82, Matt. 10. |freely. | | 22, par. | A.1.19, Luke 18. | | | 27+. | | | | |A.1.19, Luke 12. |compounded. | | 4, 5; Matt. | | | 10.28. | | |A.1.17, Luke 12. | | | 48 (v.l.) | |D.76, Luke 10.19+ | |ins. [Greek: | | | skolopendron.] D.105, Matt. 5. | | | 20. | | | | |D.125, Matt. 13. |condensed narra- | | 3 sqq. | tive. | |+D.17, Luke 11. | | | 52. | |D.17, Matt. 23.23; | |compounded. | Luke 11.42. | | |D.17, 112, Matt. | |repeated simi- | 23.27; 23.24. | | larly. | |D.47, [Greek: en | | | ois an humas | | | katalabo en | | | toutois kai | | | krino.] | |D.81, Luke 20. | |marked resem- | 35, 36. | | blance with | | | difference. D.107, Matt.16.4.| | | |D. 122, Matt. 23. | | | 15. | | |+D.17, Matt. 21. | | | 13, 12. | | | |+A.1.17, Luke 20.|narrative portion | | 22-25 (v.l.) | free. |D.100, A.1.63, | |repeated not | Matt. 11.27 (v.l.)| | identically. |D.76, 100, Luke | |repeated diverse- | 9.22. | | diversely; | | | free (Credner). A.1.36, Matt. 21.| |D.53, Matt. 21.5.|(Zech. 9.9). 5 (addition). | | | | |A.1.66, Luke 22. | | | 19, 20. | |D.99, Matt. 26. | | | 39 (v.l.) | | | |D.103, Luke 22. | | | 42-44. | | |D.101, Matt. 27. | | | 43. | | |A.1.38, [Greek: | | | ho nekrous | | | anegeiras rhu- | | | sastho eauton.]| D.99, Matt. 27. | | |compounded. 46; Mark 15.34.| | | D.105, Luke 23. | | | 46. The total result may be taken to be that ten passages are substantially exact, while twenty-five present slight and thirty- two marked variations [Endnote 116:1]. This is only rough and approximate, because of the passages that are put down as exact two, or possibly three, can only be said to be so with a qualification; though, on the other hand, there are passages entered under the second class as 'slightly variant' which have a leaning towards the first, and passages entered under the third which have a perceptible leaning towards the second. We can therefore afford to disregard these doubtful cases and accept the classification very much as it stands. Comparing it then with the parallel classification that has been made of the quotations from the Old Testament, we find that in the latter sixty-four were ranked as exact, forty-four as slightly variant, and fifty-four as decidedly variant. If we reduce these roughly to a common standard of comparison the proportion of variation may be represented thus:-- | Exact. | Slightly | Variant. | | variant. | | | | Quotations from the Old Testament | 10 | 7 | 9 Quotations from the Synoptic Gospels | 10 | 25 | 32 It will be seen from this at once how largely the proportion of variation rises; it is indeed more than three times as high for the quotations from the Gospels as for those from the Old Testament. The amount of combination too is decidedly in excess of that which is found in the Old Testament quotations. There is, it is true, something to be said on the other side. Justin quotes the Old Testament rather as Scripture, the New Testament rather as history. I think it will be felt that he has permitted his own style a freer play in regard to the latter than the former. The New Testament record had not yet acquired the same degree of fixity as the Old. The 'many' compositions of which St. Luke speaks in his preface were still in circulation, and were only gradually dying out. One important step had been taken in the regular reading of the 'Memoirs of the Apostles' at the Christian assemblies. We have not indeed proof that these were confined to the Canonical Gospels. Probably as yet they were not. But it should be remembered that Irenaeus was now a boy, and that by the time he had reached manhood the Canon of the Gospels had received its definite form. Taking all these points into consideration I think we shall find the various indications converge upon very much the same conclusion as that at which we have already arrived. The _a priori_ probabilities of the case, as well as the actual phenomena of Justin's Gospel, alike tend to show that he did make use either mediately or immediately of our Gospels, but that he did not assign to them an exclusive authority, and that he probably made use along with them of other documents no longer extant. The proof that Justin made use of each of our three Synoptics individually is perhaps more striking from the point of view of substance than of form, because his direct quotations are mostly taken from the discourses rather than from the narrative, and these discourses are usually found in more than a single Gospel, while in proportion as they bear the stamp of originality and authenticity it is difficult to assign them to any particular reporter. There is however some strong and remarkable evidence of this kind. At least one case of parallelism seems to prove almost decisively the use of the first Gospel. It is necessary to give the quotation and the original with the parallel from St. Mark side by side. _Justin, Dial._ c.49. [Greek: Aelias men eleusetai kai apokatastaesei panta, lego de humin, hoti Aelias aedae aelthe kai ouk epegnosan auton all' epoiaesan auto hosa aethelaesan. Kai gegraptai hoti tote sunaekan oi mathaetai, hoti peri Ioannon tou Baptistou eipen autois.] _Matt._ xvii. 11-13. [Greek: Aelias men erchetai apokatastaesei panta, lego de humin hoti Aelias aedae aelthen kai ouk epegnosan auton, alla epoiaesan auto hosa aethelaesan, [outos kai ho uios tou anthropou mellei paschein hup' auton.] Tote sunaekan oi mathaetai hoti peri Ioannou tou Baptistou eipen autois.] The clause in brackets is placed at the end of ver. 13 by D. and the Old Latin. _Mark._ ix. 12, 13. [Greek: Ho de ephae autois, Aelias [men] elthon proton apokathistanei panta, kai pos gegraptai epi ton uion tou anthropou, hina polla pathae kai exoudenaethae. Alla lego humin hoti kai Aelias elaeluthen kai epoiaesan auto hosa aethelon, kathos gegraptai ep' auton.] We notice here, first, an important point, that Justin reproduces at the end of his quotation what appears to be not so much a part of the object-matter of the narrative as a _comment or reflection of the Evangelist_ ('Then the disciples understood that He spake unto them of John the Baptist'). This was thought by Credner, who as a rule is inclined to press the use of an apocryphal Gospel by Justin, to be sufficient proof that the quotation is taken from our present Matthew [Endnote 119:1]. On this point, however, there is an able and on the whole a sound argument in 'Supernatural Religion' [Endnote 119:2]. There are certainly cases in which a similar comment or reflection is found either in all three Synoptic Gospels or in two of them (e.g. Matt. vii. 28, 29 = Mark i. 22 = Luke iv. 32; Matt. xiii. 34 = Mark iv. 33, 34; Matt. xxvi. 43 = Mark xiv. 40; Matt. xix. 22 = Mark x. 22). The author consequently maintains that these were found in the original document from which all three, or two Synoptics at least, borrowed; and he notes that this very passage is assigned by Ewald to the 'oldest Gospel.' The observation in itself is a fine and true one, and has an important bearing upon the question as to the way in which our Synoptic Gospels were composed. We may indeed remark in passing that the author seems to have overlooked the fact that, when once this principle of a common written basis or bases for the Synoptic Gospels is accepted, nine-tenths of his own argument is overthrown; for there are no divergences in the text of the patristic quotations from the Gospels that may not be amply paralleled by the differences which exist in the text of the several Gospels themselves, showing that the Evangelists took liberties with their ground documents to an extent that is really greater than that of any subsequent misquotation. But putting aside for the present this _argumentum ad hominem_ which seems to follow from the admission here made, there is, I think, the strongest reason to conclude that in the present case the first Evangelist is not merely reproducing his ground document. There is one element in the question which the author has omitted to notice; that is, the _parallel passage in St. Mark._ This differs so widely from the text of St. Matthew as to show that that text cannot accurately represent the original; it also wants the reflective comment altogether. Accordingly, if the author will turn to p. 275 of Ewald's book [Endnote 120:1] he will find that that writer, though roughly assigning the passage as it appears in both Synoptics to the 'oldest Gospel,' yet in reconstructing the text of this Gospel does so, not by taking that of either of the Synoptics pure and simple, but by mixing the two. All the other critics who have dealt with this point, so far as I am aware, have done the same. Holtzmann [Endnote 120:2] follows Ewald, and Weiss [Endnote 120:3] accepts Mark's as more nearly the original text. The very extent of the divergence in St. Mark throws out into striking relief the close agreement of Justin's quotation with St. Matthew. Here we have three verses word for word the same, even to the finest shades of expression. To the single exception [Greek: eleusetai] for [Greek: erchetai] I cannot, as Credner does [Endnote 120:4], attach any importance. The present tense in the Gospel has undoubtedly a future signification [Endnote 120:5], and Justin was very naturally led to give it also a future form by [Greek: apokatastaesei] which follows. For the rest, the order, particles, tenses are so absolutely identical, where the text of St. Mark shows how inevitably they must have differed in another Gospel or even in the original, that I can see no alternative but to refer the quotation directly to our present St. Matthew. If this passage had stood alone, taken in connection with the coincidence of matter between Justin and the first Gospel, great weight must have attached to it. But it does not by any means stand alone. There is an exact verbal agreement in the verses Matt. v. 20 ('Except your righteousness' &c.) and Matt. vii. 21 ('Not every one that saith unto me,' &c.) which are peculiar to the first Gospel. There is a close agreement, if not always with the best, yet with some very old, text of St. Matthew in v. 22 (note especially the striking phrase and construction [Greek: enochos eis]), v. 28 (note [Greek: blep. pros to epithum].), v. 41 (note the remarkable word [Greek: angareusei]), xxv. 41, and not too great a divergence in v. 16, vi. 1 ([Greek: pros to theathaenai, ei de mae ge misthon ouk echete]), and xix. 12, all of which passages are without parallel in any extant Gospel. There are also marked resemblances to the Matthaean text in synoptic passages such as Matt. iii. 11, 12 ([Greek: eis metanoian, ta hupodaemata bastasai]), Matt. vi. 19, 20 ([Greek: hopou saes kai brosis aphanizei], where Luke has simply [Greek: saes diaphtheirei], and [Greek: diorussousi] where Luke has [Greek: engizei]), Matt. vii. 22, 23 ([Greek: ekeinae tae haemera Kurie, Kurie, k.t.l.]), Matt. xvi. 26 ([Greek: dosei] Matt. only, [Greek: antallagma] Matt., Mark), Matt. xvi. 1, 4 (the last verse exactly). As these passages are all from the discourses I do not wish to say that they may not be taken from other Gospels than the canonical, but we have absolutely no evidence that they were so taken, and every additional instance increases the probability that they were taken directly from St. Matthew, which by this time, I think, has reached a very high degree of presumption. I have reserved for a separate discussion a single instance which I shall venture to add to those already quoted, although I am aware that it is alleged on the opposite side. Justin has the saying 'Let your yea be yea and your nay nay, for whatsoever is more than these cometh of the Evil One' ([Greek: Mae omosaete holos. Esto de humon to nai nai, kai to ou ou; to de perisson touton ek tou ponaerou]), which is set against the first Evangelist's 'Let your conversation be Yea yea, Nay nay, for whatsoever is more than these cometh of the Evil One' ([Greek: ego de lego humin mae omosai holos... Esto de ho logos humon nai nai, ou ou; to de perisson, k.t.l.]). Now it is perfectly true that as early as the Canonical Epistle of James (v. 12) we find the reading [Greek: aeto de humon to nai nai, kai to ou ou], and that in the Clementine Homilies twice over we read [Greek: esto humon to nai nai, (kai) to ou ou], [Greek: kai] being inserted in one instance and not in the other. Justin's reading is found also exactly in Clement of Alexandria, and a similar reading (though with the [Greek: aeto] of James) in Epiphanius. These last two examples show that the misquotation was an easy one to fall into, because there can be little doubt that Clement and Epiphanius supposed themselves to be quoting the canonical text. There remains however the fact that the Justinian form is supported by the pseudo-Clementines; and at the first blush it might seem that 'Let your yea be yea' (stand to your word) made better, at least a complete and more obvious, sense than 'Let your conversation be' (let it not go beyond) 'Yea yea' &c [Endnote 122:1]. There is, however, what seems to be a decisive proof that the original form both of Justin's and the Clementine quotation is that which is given in the first Gospel. Both Justin and the writer who passes under the name of Clement add the clause 'Whatsoever is more than these cometh of evil' (or 'of the Evil One'). But this, while it tallies perfectly with the canonical reading, evidently excludes any other. It is consequent and good sense to say, 'Do not go beyond a plain yes or no, because whatever is in excess of this must have an evil motive,' but the connection is entirely lost when we substitute 'Keep your word, for whatever is more than this has an evil motive'--more than what? The most important points that can be taken to imply a use of St. Mark's Gospel have been already discussed as falling under the head of matter rather than of form. The coincidences with Luke are striking but complicated. In his earlier work, the 'Beiträge' [Endnote 123:1], Credner regarded as a decided reference to the Prologue of this Gospel the statement of Justin that his Memoirs were composed [Greek: hupo ton apostolon autou kai ton ekeinois parakolouthaesanton]: but, in the posthumous History of the Canon [Endnote 123:2], he retracts this view, having come to recognise a greater frequency in the use of the word [Greek: parakolouthein] in this sense. It will also of course be noticed that Justin has [Greek: par. tois ap.] and not [Greek: par. tois pragmasin], as Luke. It is doubtless true that the use of the word can be paralleled to such an extent as to make it not a matter of certainty that the Gospel is being quoted: still I think there will be a certain probability that it has been suggested by a reminiscence of this passage, and, strangely enough, there is a parallel for the substitution of the historians for the subject-matter of their history in Epiphanius, who reads [Greek: par. tois autoptais kai hupaeretais tou logou] [Endnote 124:1], where he is explicitly and unquestionably quoting St. Luke. There are some marked coincidences of phrase in the account of the Annunciation--[Greek: eperchesthai, episkaizein, dunamis hupsistou] (a specially Lucan phrase), [Greek: to gennomenon] (also a form characteristic of St. Luke), [Greek idou, sullaepsae en gastri kai texae huion]. Of the other peculiarities of St. Luke Justin has in exact accordance the last words upon the cross ([Greek: Pater, eis cheiras sou paratithemai to pneuma mou]). In the Agony in the Garden Justin has the feature of the Bloody Sweat; but it is right to notice-- (1) That he has [Greek: thromboi] alone, without [Greek: haimatos]. Luke, [Greek: egeneto ho hidros autou hosei thromboi haimatos katabainontes]. Justin, [Greek: hidros hosei thromboi katecheito]. (2) That this is regarded as a fulfilment of Ps. xxii. 14 ('All my tears are poured out' &c.). (3) That in continuing the quotation Justin follows Matthew rather than Luke. These considerations may be held to qualify, though I do not think that they suffice to remove, the conclusion that St. Luke's Gospel is being quoted. It seems to be sufficiently clear that [Greek: thromboi] might be used in this signification without [Greek: aimatos] [Endnote 124:2], and it appears from the whole manner of Justin's narrative that he intends to give merely the sense and not the words, with the exception of the single saying 'Let this cup pass from Me,' which is taken from St. Matthew. We cannot say positively that this feature did not occur in any other Gospel, but there is absolutely no reason apart from this passage to suppose that it did. The construction with [Greek: hosei] is in some degree characteristic of St. Luke, as it occurs more often in the works of that writer than in all the rest of the New Testament put together. In narrating the institution of the Lord's Supper Justin has the clause which is found only in St. Luke and St. Paul, 'This do in remembrance of Me' ([Greek: mou] for [Greek: emaen]). The giving of the cup he quotes rather after the first two Synoptics, and adds 'that He gave it to them (the Apostles) alone.' This last does not seem to be more than an inference of Justin's own. Two other sayings Justin has which are without parallel except in St. Luke. One is from the mission of the seventy. _Justin, Dial._ 76 [Greek: Didomi humin exousian katapatein epano opheon, kai skorpion, kai skolopendron, kai epano parsaes dunameos tou echthrou.] _Luke_ x. 19. [Greek: Idou, didomi humin taen exousian tou patein epano epheon, kai skorpion, kai epi pasan taen dunamin tou echthrou.] The insertion of [Greek: skolopendron] here is curious. It may be perhaps to some extent paralleled by the insertion of [Greek: kai eis thaeran] in Rom. xi. 9: we have also seen a strange addition in the quotation of Ps. li. 19 in the Epistle of Barnabas (c. ii). Otherwise the resemblance of Justin to the Gospel is striking. The second saying, 'To whom God has given more, of him shall more be required' (Apol. i. 17), if quoted from the Gospel at all, is only a paraphrase of Luke xii. 48. Besides these there are other passages, which are perhaps stronger as separate items of evidence, where, in quoting synoptic matter, Justin makes use of phrases which are found only in St. Luke and are discountenanced by the other Evangelists. Thus in the account of the rich young man, the three synoptical versions of the saying that impossibilities with men are possible with God, run thus:-- _Luke_ xviii. 27. [Greek: Ta adunata para anthropois dunata para to Theo estin.] _Mark_ x. 27. [Greek: Para anthropois adunaton, all' ou para Theo; punta gar dunata para to Theo]. _Matt_. xix. 26. [Greek: Para anthropois touto adunaton estin, para de Theo dunata panta]. Here it will be observed that Matthew and Mark (as frequently happens) are nearer to each other than either of them is to Luke. This would lead us to infer that, as they are two to one, they more nearly represent the common original, which has been somewhat modified in the hands of St. Luke. But now Justin has the words precisely as they stand in St. Luke, with the omission of [Greek: estin], the order of which varies in the MSS. of the Gospel. This must be taken as a strong proof that Justin has used the peculiar text of the third Gospel. Again, it is to be noticed that in another section of the triple synopsis (Mark xii. 20=Matt. xxii. 30=Luke xx. 35, 36) he has, in common with Luke and diverging from the other Gospels which are in near agreement, the remarkable compound [Greek: isangeloi] and the equally remarkable phrase [Greek: huioi taes anastaseos] ([Greek: tekna tou Theou taes anastaseos] Justin). This also I must regard as supplying a strong argument for the direct use of the Gospel. Many similar instances may be adduced; [Greek: erchetai] ([Greek: aexei] Justin) [Greek: ho ischuroteros] (Luke iii. 16), [Greek: ho nomos kai hoi prophaetai heos] ([Greek: mechri] Justin) [Greek: Ioannon] (Luke xvi. 16), [Greek: panti to aitounti] (Luke vi. 30), [Greek: to tuptonti se epi] ([Greek: sou] Justin) [Greek: taen siagona pareche kai taen allaen k.t.l.] (Luke vi. 29; compare Matt. v. 39, 40), [Greek: ti me legeis agathon] and [Greek: oudeis agathos ei mae] (Luke xviii. 19; compare Matt. xix. 17), [Greek: meta tauta mae echonton] ([Greek: dunamenous] Justin) [Greek: perissoteron] (om. Justin) [Greek: ti poiaesae k.t.l.] (Luke xii. 4, 5; compare Matt. X. 28), [Greek: paeganon] and [Greek: agapaen tou Theou] (Luke xi. 42). In the parallel passage to Luke ix. 22 (=Matt xvi. 21= Mark viii. 31) Justin has the striking word [Greek: apodokimasthaenai], with Mark and Luke against Matthew, and [Greek: hupo] with Mark against the [Greek: apo] of the two other Synoptics. This last coincidence can perhaps hardly be pressed, as [Greek: hupo] would be the more natural word to use. In the cases where we have only the double synopsis to compare with Justin, we have no certain test to distinguish between the primary and secondary features in the text of the Gospels. We cannot say with confidence what belonged to the original document and what to the later editor who reduced it to its present form. In these cases therefore it is possible that when Justin has a detail that is found in St. Matthew and wanting in St. Luke, or found in St. Luke and wanting in St. Matthew, he is still not quoting directly from either of those Gospels, but from the common document on which they are based. The triple synopsis however furnishes such a criterion. It enables us to see what was the original text and how any single Evangelist has diverged from it. Thus in the two instances quoted at the beginning of the last paragraph it is evident that the Lucan text represents a deviation from the original, and _that deviation Justin has reproduced_. The word [Greek: isangeloi] may be taken as a crucial case. Both the other Synoptics have simply [Greek hos angeloi], and this may be set down as undoubtedly the reading of the original; the form [Greek: isangeloi], which occurs nowhere else in the New Testament, and I believe, so far as we know, nowhere else in Greek before this passage [Endnote 128:1], has clearly been coined by the third Evangelist and has been adopted from him by Justin. So that in a quotation which otherwise presents considerable variation we have what I think must be called the strongest evidence that Justin really had St. Luke's narrative, either in itself or in some secondary shape, before him. We are thus brought once more to the old result. If Justin did not use our Gospels in their present shape as they have come down to us, he used them in a later shape, not in an earlier. His resemblances to them cannot be accounted for by the supposition that he had access to the materials out of which they were composed, because he reproduces features which by the nature of the case cannot have been present in those originals, but of which we are still able to trace the authorship and the exact point of their insertion. Our Gospels form a secondary stage in the history of the text, Justin's quotations a tertiary. In order to reach the state in which it is found in Justin, the road lies _through_ our Gospels, and not outside them. This however does not exclude the possibility that Justin may at times quote from uncanonical Gospels as well. We have already seen reason to think that he did so from the substance of the Evangelical narrative, as it appears in his works, and this conclusion too is not otherwise than confirmed by its form. The degree and extent of the variations incline us to introduce such an additional factor to account for them. Either Justin has used a lost Gospel or Gospels, besides those that are still extant, or else he has used a recension of these Gospels with some slight changes of language and with some apocryphal additions. We have seen that he has two short sayings and several minute details that are not found in our present Gospels. A remarkable coincidence is noticed in 'Supernatural Religion' with the Protevangelium of James [Endnote 129:1]. As in that work so also in Justin, the explanation of the name Jesus occurs in the address of the angel to Mary, not to Joseph, 'Behold thou shalt conceive of the Holy Ghost and bear a Son and He shall be called the Son of the Highest, and thou shalt call His name Jesus, for He shall save His people from their sins.' Again the Protevangelium has the phrase 'Thou shalt conceive of His Word,' which, though not directly quoted, appears to receive countenance from Justin. The author adds that 'Justin's divergences from the Protevangelium prevent our supposing that in its present form it could have been the actual source of his quotations,' though he thinks that he had before him a still earlier work to which both the Protevangelium and the third Gospel were indebted. So far as the Protevangelium is concerned this may very probably have been the case; but what reason there is for assuming that the same document was also anterior to the third Gospel I am not aware. On the contrary, this very passage seems to suggest an opposite conclusion. The quotation in Justin and the address in the Protevangelium both present a combination of narratives that are kept separate in the first and third Gospels. But this very fact supplies a strong presumption that the version of those Gospels is the earliest. It is unlikely that the first Evangelist, if he had found his text already existing as part of the speech of the angel to Mary, would have transferred it to an address to Joseph; and it is little less unlikely that the third Evangelist, finding the fuller version of Justin and the Protevangelium, should have omitted from it one of its most important features. If a further link is necessary to connect Justin with the Protevangelium, that link comes into the chain after our Gospels and not before. Dr. Hilgenfeld has also noticed the phrase [Greek: charan de labousa Mariam] as common to Justin and the Protevangelium [Endnote 130:1]. This, too, may belong to the older original of the latter work. The other verbal coincidences with the Gospel according to the Hebrews in the account of the Baptism, and with that of Thomas in the 'ploughs and yokes,' have been already mentioned, and are, I believe, along with those just discussed, all that can be directly referred to an apocryphal source. Besides these there are some coincidences in form between quotations as they appear in Justin and in other writers, such as especially the Clementine Homilies. These are thought to point to the existence of a common Gospel (now lost) from which they may have been extracted. It is unnecessary to repeat what has been said about one of these passages ('Let your yea be yea,' &c.). Another corresponds roughly to the verse Matt. xxv. 41, where both Justin and the Clementine Homilies read [Greek: hupagete eis to skotos to exoteron o haetoimasen ho pataer to satana (to diabolo] Clem. Hom.) [Greek: kai tois angelois autou] for the canonical [Greek: poreuesthe ap' emou eis to pur to aionion to haetoimasmenon k.t.l.] It is true that there is a considerable approximation to the reading of Justin and the Clementines, found especially in MSS. and authorities of a Western character (D. Latt. Iren. Cypr. Hil.), but there still remains the coincidence in regard to [Greek: exoteron](?) for [Greek: aionion] and [Greek: skotos] for [Greek: pyr], which seems to be due to something more than merely a variant text of the Gospel. A third meeting-point between Justin and the Clementines is afforded by a text which we shall have to touch upon when we come to speak of the fourth Gospel. Of the other quotations common to the Clementines and Justin there is a partial but not complete coincidence in regard to Matt. vii. 15, xi. 27, xix. 16, and Luke vi. 36. In Matt. vii. 15 the Clementines have [Greek: polloi eleusontai] where Justin has once [Greek: polloi eleusontai], once [Greek: polloi aexousin], and once the Matthaean version [Greek: prosechete apo ton pseudoprophaeton oitines erchontai k.t.l.] There is however a difference in regard to the reading [Greek: en endumasi], where the Clementines have [Greek: en endumatie], and Justin twice over [Greek: endedumenoi]. In Matt. xi. 27, Justin and the Clementines agree as to the order of the clauses, and twice in the use of the aorist [Greek: egno] (Justin has once [Greek: ginosko]), but in the concluding clause ([Greek: ho [ois] Clem.] [Greek: ean boulaetai ho nios apokalupsai]) Justin has uniformly in the three places where the verse is quoted [Greek: ois an ho uhios apokalupsae]. In Matt. xix. 16, 17 (Luke xviii. 18, 19) the Clementines and Justin alternately adhere to the Canonical text while differing from each other, but in the concluding phrase Justin has on one occasion the Clementine reading, [Greek: ho pataer mou ho en tois ouranois]. In Luke vi. 36 the Clementines have [Greek: ginesthe agathoi kai ioktirmones], where Justin has [Greek: ginesthe chraestoi kai oiktirmones] against the Canonical [Greek: ginesthe oiktirmones]. On the other hand, it should be said that the remaining quotations common to the Clementines and Justin have to all appearance no relation to each other. This applies to Matt. iv. 10, v. 39, 40, vi. 8, viii. 11, x. 28; Luke xi. 52. Speaking generally we seem to observe in comparing Justin and the Clementines phenomena not dissimilar to those which appear on a comparison with the Canonical Gospels. There is perhaps about the same degree at once of resemblance and divergence. The principal textual coincidence with other writers is that with the Gospel used by the Marcosians as quoted by Irenaeus (Adv. Haer. i. 20. 3). Here the reading of Matt. xi. 27 is given in a form very similar to that of Justin, [Greek: oudeis hegno ton patera ei mae ho uhios, kai (oude Justin) ton uhion, ei mae ho pataer kai ho (ois] Justin) [Greek: an ho uhios apokalupsae]. This verse however is quoted by the early writers, orthodox as well as heretical, in almost every possible way, and it is not clear from the account in Irenaeus whether the Marcosians used an extra- canonical Gospel or merely a different text of the Canonical. Irenaeus himself seems to hold the latter view, and in favour of it may be urged the fact that they quote passages peculiar both to the first and the third Gospel; on the other hand, one of their quotations, [Greek: pollakis epethuaesa akousai hena ton logon touton], does not appear to have a canonical original. On reviewing these results we find them present a chequered appearance. There are no traces of coincidence so definite and consistent as to justify us in laying the finger upon any particular extra-canonical Gospel as that used by Justin. But upon the whole it seems best to assume that some such Gospel was used, certainly not to the exclusion of the Canonical Gospels, but probably in addition to them. A confusing element in the whole question is that to which we have just alluded in regard to the Gospel of the Marcosians. It is often difficult to decide whether a writer has really before him an unknown document or merely a variant text of one with which we are familiar. In the case of Justin it is to be noticed that there is often a very considerable approximation to his readings, not in the best text, but in some very early attested text, of the Canonical Gospels. It will be well to collect some of the most prominent instances of this. Matt. iii. 15 ad fin. [Greek: kai pur anaephthae en to Iordanae] Justin. So a. (Codex Vercellensis of the Old Latin translation) adds 'et cum baptizaretur lumen ingens circumfulsit de aqua ita ut timerent onmes qui advenerant;' g[1]. (Codex Sangermanensis of the same) 'lumen magnum fulgebat de aqua,' &c. See above. Luke iii. 22. Justin reads [Greek: uhios mon ei su, ego saemeron gegennaeka se]. So D, a, b, c, ff, l, Latin Fathers ('nonnulli codices' Augustine). See above. Matt. v. 28. [Greek: hos un emblepsae] for [Greek: pas ho blepon]. Origen five times as Justin, only once the accepted text. Matt. v. 29. Justin and Clement of Alexandria read here [Greek: ekkopson] for [Greek: exele], probably from the next verse or from Matt. xviii. 8. Matt. vi. 20. [Greek: ouranois] Clem. Alex. with Justin; [Greek: ourano] the accepted reading. Matt. xvi. 26. [Greek: opheleitai] Justin with most MSS. both of the Old Latin and of the Vulgate, the Curetonian Syriac (Crowfoot), Clement, Hilary, and Lucifer, against [Greek: ophelaethaesetai] of the best Alexandrine authorities. Matt. vi. 21. There is a striking coincidence here with Clement of Alexandria, who reads, like Justin, [Greek: nous] for [Greek: cardia]; it would seem that Clement had probably derived his reading from Justin. Matt. v. 22. [Greek: hostis an orgisthae] Syr. Crt. (Crowfoot); so Justin ([Greek: hos]). Matt. v. 16. Clement of Alexandria (with Tertullian and several Latin Fathers) has [Greek: lampsato ta erga] and [Greek: ta agatha erga], where Justin has [Greek: lampsato ta kala erga], for [Greek: lampsato to phos]. Both readings would seem to be a gloss on the original. Matt. v. 37. [Greek: kai] is inserted, as in Justin, by a, b, g, h, Syr. Crt. and Pst. Luke x. 16. Justin has the reading [Greek: ho emou akouon akouei ton aposteilantos me]: so D, i, l (of the Old Latin) in place of [Greek: ho eme atheton k.t.l.]; in addition to it, E, a, b, Syr. Crt. and Hel. &c. Matt. vii. 22. [Greek: ou to so anomati ephagomen kai epiomen] Justin; similarly Origen, four times, and Syr. Crt. Luke xiii. 27. [Greek: anomias] for [Greek: adikias], D and Justin. Matt. xiii. 43. [Greek: lampsosin] for [Greek: eklampsosin] with Justin, D, and Origen (twice). Matt. xxv. 41. Of Justin's readings in this verse [Greek: hupagete] for [Greek: poreuesthe] is found also in [Hebrew: ?] and Hippolytus, [Greek: exoteron] for [Greek: aionion] in the cursive manuscript numbered 40 (Credner; I am unable to verify this), [Greek: ho haetoimasen ho pater mou] for [Greek: to haetoimasmenon] D. 1, most Codd. of the Old Latin, Iren. Tert. Cypr. Hil. Hipp. and Origen in the Latin translation. Luke xii. 48. D, like Justin, has here [Greek: pleon] for [Greek: perissoteron] and also the compound form [Greek: apaitaesousin]. Luke xx. 24. Though in the main following (but loosely) the text of Luke, Justin has here [Greek: to nomisma], as Matt., instead of [Greek: daenarion]; so D. Though it will be seen that Justin has thus much in common with D and the Old Latin version, it should be noticed that he has the verse, Luke xxii. 19, and especially the clause [Greek: touto poieite eis taen emaen anamnaesin] which is wanting in these authorities. On the other hand, he appears to have with them and other authorities, including Syr. Crt., the Agony in the Garden as given in Luke xxii, 43,44, which verses are omitted in MSS. of the best Alexandrine type. Luke xxiii. 34, Justin also has, with the divided support of the majority of Greek MSS. Vulgate, c, e, f, ff of the Old Latin, Syr. Crt. and Pst. &c. against B, D (prima manu), a, b, Memph. (MSS.) Theb. These readings represent in the main a text which was undoubtedly current and widely diffused in the second century. 'Though no surviving manuscript of the Old Latin version dates before the fourth century and most of them belong to a still later age, yet the general correspondence of their text with that of the first Latin Fathers is a sufficient voucher for its high antiquity. The connexion subsisting between this Latin, version, the Curetonian Syriac and Codex Bezae, proves that the text of these documents is considerably older than the vellum on which they are written.' Such is Dr. Scrivener's verdict upon the class of authorities with which Justin shows the strongest affinity, and he goes on to add; 'Now it may be said without extravagance that no set of Scriptural records affords a text less probable in itself, less sustained by any rational principles of external evidence, than that of Cod. D, of the Latin codices, and (so far as it accords with them) of Cureton's Syriac. Interpolations as insipid in themselves as unsupported by other evidence abound in them all.... It is no less true to fact than paradoxical in sound, that the worst corruptions to which the New Testament has ever been subjected originated within a hundred years after it was composed' [Endnote 135:1]. This is a point on which text critics of all schools are substantially agreed. However much they may differ in other respects, no one of them has ever thought of taking the text of the Old Syriac and Old Latin translations as the basis of an edition. There can be no question that this text belongs to an advanced, though early, stage of corruption. At the same stage of corruption, then, Justin's quotations from the Gospels are found, and this very fact is a proof of the antiquity of originals so corrupted. The coincidences are too many and too great all to be the result of accident or to be accounted for by the parallel influence of the lost Gospels. The presence, for instance, of the reading [Greek: o haetoimasen ho pataer] for [Greek: to haetoimasmenon] in Irenaeus and Tertullian (who has both 'quem praeparavit deus' and 'praeparatum') is a proof that it was found in the canonical text at a date little later than Justin's. And facts such as this, taken together with the arguments which make it little less than certain that Justin had either mediately or immediately access to our Gospels, render it highly probable that he had a form of the canonical text before him. And yet large as is the approximation to Justin's text that may be made without stirring beyond the bounds of attested readings within the Canon, I still retain the opinion previously expressed that he did also make use of some extra-canonical book or books, though what the precise document was the data are far too insufficient to enable us to determine. So far as the history of our present Gospels is concerned, I have only to insist upon the alternative that Justin either used those Gospels themselves or else a later work, of the nature of a harmony based upon them [Endnote 136:1]. The theory (if it is really held) that he was ignorant of our Gospels in any shape, seems to me, in view of the facts, wholly untenable. CHAPTER V. HEGESIPPUS--PAPIAS. Dr. Lightfoot has rendered a great service to criticism by his masterly exposure of the fallacies in the argument which has been drawn from the silence of Eusebius in respect to the use of the Canonical Gospels by the early writers [Endnote 138:1]. The author of 'Supernatural Religion' is not to be blamed for using this argument. In doing so he has only followed in the wake of the Germans who have handed it on from one to the other without putting it to a test so thorough and conclusive as that which has now been applied [Endnote 138:2]. For the future, I imagine, the question has been set at rest and will not need to be reopened [Endnote 138:3]. Dr. Lightfoot has shown, with admirable fulness and precision, that the object of Eusebius was only to note quotations in the case of books the admission of which into the Canon had been or was disputed. In the case of works, such as the four Gospels, that were universally acknowledged, he only records what seem to him interesting anecdotes or traditions respecting their authors or the circumstances under which they were composed. This distinction Dr. Lightfoot has established, not only by a careful examination of the language of Eusebius, but also by comparing his statements with the actual facts in regard to writings that are still extant, and where we are able to verify his procedure. After thus testing the references in Eusebius to Clement of Rome, the Ignatian Epistles, Polycarp, Justin, Theophilus of Antioch, and Irenaeus, Dr. Lightfoot arrives, by a strict and ample induction, at the conclusion that the silence of Eusebius in respect to quotations from any canonical book is so far an argument _in its favour_ that it shows the book in question to have been generally acknowledged by the early Church. Instead of being a proof that the writer did not know the work in reference to which Eusebius is silent, the presumption is rather that he did, like the rest of the Church, receive it. Eusebius only records what seems to him specially memorable, except where the place of the work in or out of the Canon has itself to be vindicated. But if this holds good, then most of what is said against the use of the Gospels by Hegesippus falls to the ground. Eusebius expressly says [Endnote 140:1] that Hegesippus made occasional use of the Gospel according to the Hebrews ([Greek: ek te tou kath' Hebraious euangeliou ... tina tithaesin]). But apart from the conclusion referred to above, the very language of Eusebius ([Greek: tithaesin tina ek]) is enough to suggest that the use of the Gospel according to the Hebrews was subordinate and subsidiary. Eusebius can hardly have spoken in this way of '_the_ Gospel of which Hegesippus made use' in all the five books of his 'Memoirs.' The expression tallies exactly with what we should expect of a work used _in addition to_ but not _to the exclusion_ of our Gospels. The fact that Eusebius says nothing about these shows that his readers would take it for granted that Hegesippus, as an orthodox Christian, received them. With this conclusion the fragments of the work of Hegesippus that have come down to us agree. The quotations made in them are explained most simply and naturally, on the assumption that our Gospels have been used. The first to which we come is merely an allusion to the narrative of Matt. ii; 'For Domitian feared the coming of the Christ as much as Herod.' Those therefore who take the statement of Eusebius to mean that Hegesippus used only the Gospel according to the Hebrews are compelled to seek for the account of the Massacre of the Innocents in that Gospel. It appears however from Epiphanius that precisely this very portion of the first Gospel was wanting in the Gospel according to the Hebrews as used both by the Ebionites and by the Nazarenes. 'But if it be doubtful whether some forms of that Gospel contained the two opening chapters of Matthew, it is certain that Jerome found them in the version which he translated' [Endnote 141:1]. I am afraid that here, as in so many other cases, the words 'doubtful' and 'certain' are used with very little regard to their meanings. In support of the inference from Jerome, the author refers to De Wette, Schwegler, and an article in a periodical publication by Ewald. De Wette expressly says that the inference does _not_ follow ('Aus Comm. ad Matt. ii. 6 ... lässt sich _nicht_ schliessen dass er hierbei das Evang. der Hebr. verglichen habe.... Nicht viel besser beweisen die St. ad Jes. xi. 1; ad Abac. iii. 3') [Endnote 141:2]. He thinks that the presence of these chapters in Jerome's copy cannot be satisfactorily proved, but is probable just from this allusion in Hegesippus--in regard to which De Wette simply follows the traditional, but, as we have seen, erroneous assumption that Hegesippus used only the Gospel according to the Hebrews. Schwegler [Endnote 141:3] gives no reasons, but refers to the passages quoted from Jerome in Credner. Credner, after examining these passages, comes to the conclusion that 'the Gospel of the Nazarenes did _not_ contain the chapters' [Endnote 141:4]. Ewald's periodical I cannot refer to, but Hilgenfeld, after an elaborate review of the question, decides that the chapters were omitted [Endnote 141:5]. This is the only authority I can find for the 'certainty that Jerome found them' in his version. On the whole, then, it seems decidedly more probable (certainties we cannot deal in) that the incident referred to by Hegesippus was missing from the Gospel according to the Hebrews. That Gospel therefore was not quoted by him, but, on the contrary, there is a presumption that he is quoting from the Canonical Gospel. The narrative of the parallel Gospel of St. Luke seems, if not to exclude the Massacre of the Innocents, yet to imply an ignorance of it. The next passage that appears to be quotation occurs in the account of the death of James the Just; 'Why do ye ask me concerning Jesus the Son of Man? He too sits in heaven on the right hand of the great Power and will come on the clouds of heaven' ([Greek: Ti me eperotate peri Iaesou tou huiou tou anthropou? kai autos kathaetai en to ourano ek dexion taes megalaes dunameos, kai mellei erchesthai epi ton nephelon tou ouranou]). It seems natural to suppose that this is an allusion to Matt. xxvi. 64, [Greek: ap' arti opsesthe ton huion tou anthropou kathaemenon ek dexion taes dunameos, kai erchomenon epi ton vephelon tou ouranou]. The passage is one that belongs to the triple synopsis, and the form in which it appears in Hegesippus shows a preponderating resemblance to the version of St. Matthew. Mark inserts [Greek: kathaemenon] between [Greek: ek dexion] and [Greek: taes dunameos], while Luke thinks it necessary to add [Greek: tou theou]. The third Evangelist omits the phrase [Greek: epi ton nephelon tou ouranou], altogether, and the second substitutes [Greek: meta] for [Greek: epi]. In fact the phrase [Greek: epi ton vephelon] occurs in the New Testament only in St. Matthew; the Apocalypse, like St. Mark, has [Greek: meta] and [Greek: epi] only with the singular. In like manner, when we find Hegesippus using the phrase [Greek: prosopon ou lambaneis], this seems to be a reminiscence of Luke xx. 21, where the synoptic parallels have [Greek: blepeis]. A more decided reference to the third Gospel occurs in the dying prayer of St. James; [Greek: parakalo, kurie thee pater, aphes autois; ou gar oidasiti poiousin], which corresponds to Luke xxiii. 34, [Greek: pater, aphes autois; ou gar oidasin ti poiousin]. There is the more reason to believe that Hegesippus' quotation is derived from this source that it reproduces the peculiar use of [Greek: aphienai] in the sense of 'forgive' without an expressed object. Though the word is of very frequent occurrence, I find no other instance of this in the New Testament [Endnote 143:1], and the Clementine Homilies, in making the same quotation, insert [Greek: tas hamartias auton]. The saying is well known to be peculiar to St. Luke. There is perhaps a balance of evidence against its genuineness, but this is of little importance, as it undoubtedly formed part of the Gospel as early as Irenaeus, who wrote much about the same time as Hegesippus. The remaining passage occurs in a fragment preserved from Stephanus Gobarus, a writer of the sixth century, by Photius, writing in the ninth. Referring to the saying 'Eye hath not seen,' &c., Gobarus says 'that Hegesippus, an ancient and apostolical man, asserts--he knows not why--that these words are vainly spoken, and that those who use them give the lie to the sacred writings and to our Lord Himself who said, "Blessed are your eyes that see and your ears that hear,"' &c. 'Those who use these words' are, we can hardly doubt, as Dr. Lightfoot after Routh has shown [Endnote 144:1], the Gnostics, though Hegesippus would seem to have forgotten I Cor. ii. 9. The anti-Pauline position assigned to Hegesippus on the strength of this is, we must say, untenable. But for the present we are concerned rather with the second quotation, which agrees closely with Matt. xiii. 26 ([Greek: humon de makarioi hoi ophthalmoi hoti blepousin, kai ta ota humon hoti akouousin]). The form of the quotation has a slightly nearer resemblance to Luke x. 23 ([Greek: makarioi hoi ophthalmoi hoi blepontes ha blepete k.t.l.]), but the marked difference in the remainder of the Lucan passage increases the presumption that Hegesippus is quoting from the first Gospel [Endnote 144:2]. The use of the phrase [Greek: ton theion graphon] is important and remarkable. There is not, so far as I am aware, any instance of so definite an expression being applied to an apocryphal Gospel. It would tend to prepare us for the strong assertion of the Canon of the Gospels in Irenaeus; it would in fact mark the gradually culminating process which went on in the interval which separated Irenaeus from Justin. To this interval the evidence of Hegesippus must be taken to apply, because though writing like Irenaeus under Eleutherus (from 177 A.D.) he was his elder contemporary, and had been received with high respect in Rome as early as the episcopate of Anicetus (157-168 A.D.). The relations in which Hegesippus describes himself as standing to the Churches and bishops of Corinth and Rome seem to be decisive as to his substantial orthodoxy. This would give reason to think that he made use of our present Gospels, and the few quotations that have come down to us confirm that view not inconsiderably, though by themselves they might not be quite sufficient to prove it. There is one passage that may be thought to point to an apocryphal Gospel, 'From these arose false Christs, false prophets, false apostles;' which recalls a sentence in the Clementines, 'For there shall be, as the Lord said, false apostles, false prophets, heresies, ambitions.' It is not, however, nearer to this than to the canonical parallel, Matt. xxiv. 24 ('There shall arise false Christs and false prophets'). 2. In turning from Hegesippus to Papias we come at last to what seems to be a definite and satisfactory statement as to the origin of two at least of the Synoptic Gospels, and to what is really the most enigmatic and tantalizing of all the patristic utterances. Like Hegesippus, Papias may be described as 'an ancient and apostolic man,' and appears to have better deserved the title. He is said to have suffered martyrdom under M. Aurelius about the same time as Polycarp, 165-167 A.D. [Endnote 145:1] He wrote a commentary on the Discourses or more properly Oracles of the Lord, from which Eusebius extracted what seemed to him 'memorable' statements respecting the origin of the first and second Gospels. 'Matthew,' Papias said [Endnote 146:1], 'wrote the oracles ([Greek: ta logia]) in the Hebrew tongue, and every one interpreted them as he was able.' 'Mark, as the interpreter of Peter, wrote down accurately, though not in order, all that he remembered that was said or done by Christ. For he neither heard the Lord nor attended upon Him, but later, as I said, upon Peter, who taught according to the occasion and not as composing a connected narrative of the Lord's discourses; so that Mark made no mistake in writing down some things as he remembered them. For he took care of one thing, not to omit any of the particulars that he heard or to falsify any part of them.' * * * * * Let us take the second of these statements first. According to it the Gospel of St. Mark consisted of notes taken down, or rather recollected, from the teaching of Peter. It was not written 'in order,' but it was an original work in the sense that it was first put in writing by Mark himself, having previously existed only in an oral form. Does this agree with the facts of the Gospel as it appears to us now? There is a certain ambiguity as to the phrase 'in order.' We cannot be quite sure what Papias meant by it, but the most natural conclusion seems to be that it meant chronological order. If so, the statement of Papias seems to be so far borne out that none of the Synoptic Gospels is really in exact chronological order; but, strange to say, if there is any in which an approach to such an order is made, it is precisely this of St. Mark. This appears from a comparison of the three Synoptics. From the point at which the second Gospel begins, or, in other words, from the Baptism to the Crucifixion, it seems to give the outline that the other two Gospels follow [Endnote 147:1]. If either of them diverges from it for a time it is only to return. The early part of St. Matthew is broken up by the intrusion of the so-called Sermon on the Mount, but all this time St. Mark is in approximate agreement with St. Luke. For a short space the three Gospels go together. Then comes a second break, where Luke introduces his version of the Sermon on the Mount. Then the three rejoin and proceed together, Matthew being thrown out by the way in which he has collected the parables into a single chapter, and Luke later by the place which he has assigned to the incident at Nazareth. After this Matthew and Mark proceed side by side, Luke dropping out of the ranks. At the confession of Peter he takes his place again, and there is a close agreement in the order of the three narratives. The incident of the miracle-worker is omitted by Matthew, and then comes the insertion of a mass of extraneous matter by Luke. When he resumes the thread of the common narrative again all three are together. The insertion of a single parable on the part of Matthew, and omissions on the part of Luke, are the only interruptions. There is an approximate agreement of all three, we may say, for the rest of the narrative. We observe throughout that, in by far the preponderating number of instances, where Matthew differs from the order of Mark, Luke and Mark agree, and where Luke differs from the order of Mark, Matthew and Mark agree. Thus, for instance, in the account of the healings in Peter's house and of the paralytic, in the relation of the parables of Mark iv. 1-34 to the storm at sea which follows, of the healing of Jairus' daughter to that of the Gadarene demoniac and to the mission of the Twelve in the place of Herod's reflections (Mark vi. 14-16), in the warning against the Scribes and the widow's mite (Mark xii. 38-44), the second and third Synoptics are allied against the first. On the other hand, in the call of the four chief Apostles, the death of the Baptist, the walking on the sea, the miracles in the land of Gennesareth, the washing of hands, the Canaanitish woman, the feeding of the four thousand and the discourses which follow, the ambition of the sons of Zebedee, the anointing at Bethany, and several insertions of the third Evangelist in regard to the last events, the first two are allied against him. While Mark thus receives such alternating support from one or other of his fellow Evangelists, I am not aware of any clear case in which, as to the order of the narratives, they are, united and he is alone, unless we are to reckon as such his insertion of the incident of the fugitive between Matt. xxvi. 56, 57, Luke xxii. 53, 54. It appears then that, so far as there is an order in the Synoptic Gospels, the normal type of that order is to be found precisely in St. Mark, whom Papias alleges to have written not in order. But again there seems to be evidence that the Gospel, in the form in which it has come down to us, is not original but based upon another document previously existing. When we come to examine closely its verbal relations to the other two Synoptics, its normal character is in the main borne out, but still not quite completely. The number of particulars in which Matthew and Mark agree together against Luke, or Mark and Luke agree together against Matthew, is far in excess of that in which Matthew and Luke are agreed against Mark. Mark is in most cases the middle term which unites the other two. But still there remains a not inconsiderable residuum of cases in which Matthew and Luke are in combination and Mark at variance. The figures obtained by a not quite exact and yet somewhat elaborate computation [Endnote 149:1] are these; Matthew and Mark agree together against Luke in 1684 particulars, Luke and Mark against Matthew in 944, but Matthew and Luke against Mark in only 334. These 334 instances are distributed pretty evenly over the whole of the narrative. Thus (to take a case at random) in the parallel narratives Matt. xii. 1-8, Mark ii. 23-28, Luke vi. 1-5 (the plucking of the ears on the Sabbath day), there are fifty-one points (words or parts of words) common to all three Evangelists, twenty-three are common only to Mark and Luke, ten to Mark and Matthew, and eight to Matthew and Luke. In the next section, the healing of the withered hand, twenty points are found alike in all three Gospels, twenty-seven in Mark and Luke, twenty-one in Mark and Matthew, and five in Matthew and Luke. Many of these coincidences between the first and third Synoptics are insignificant in the extreme. Thus, in the last section referred to (Mark iii. 1-6=Matt. xii. 9-14=Luke vi. 6-11), one is the insertion of the article [Greek: taen] ([Greek: sunagogaen]), one the insertion of [Greek: sou] ([Greek: taen cheira sou]), two the use of [Greek: de] for [Greek: kai], and one that of [Greek: eipen] for [Greek: legei]. In the paragraph before, the eight points of coincidence between Matthew and Luke are made up thus, two [Greek: kai aesthion] (=[Greek kai esthiein]), [Greek: eipon] (=[Greek: eipan]), [Greek: poiein, eipen, met' autou] (=[Greek: sun auto]), [Greek: monous] (=[Greek: monois]). But though such points as these, if they had been few in number, might have been passed without notice, still, on the whole, they reach a considerable aggregate and all are not equally unimportant. Thus, in the account of the healing of the paralytic, such phrases is [Greek epi klinaes, apaelthen eis ton oikon autou], can hardly have come into the first and third Gospels and be absent from the second by accident; so again the clause [Greek: alla ballousin (blaeteon) oinon neon eis askous kainous]. In the account of the healing of the bloody flux the important word [Greek: tou kraspedou] is inserted in Matthew and Luke but not in Mark; in that of the mission of the twelve Apostles, the two Evangelists have, and the single one has not, the phrase [Greek: kai therapeuein noson (nosous]), and the still more important clause [Greek: lego humin anektoteron estai (gae) Sodomon ... en haemera ... ae tae polei ekeinae]: in Luke ix. 7 (= Matt. xiv. 1) Herod's title is [Greek: tetrarchaes], in Mark vi. 14 [Greek: basileus]; in the succeeding paragraph [Greek: hoi ochloi aekolouthaesan] and the important [Greek: to perisseuon (-san)] are wanting in the intermediate Gospel; in the first prophecy of the Passion it has [Greek: apo] where the other two have [Greek: hupo], and [Greek: meta treis haemeras] where they have [Greek: tae tritae haemera]: in the healing of the lunatic boy it omits the noticeable [Greek: kai diestrammenae]: in the second prophecy of the Passion it omits [Greek: mellei], in the paragraph about offences, [Greek: elthein ta skandala ...ouai...di hou erchetai]. These points might be easily multiplied as we go on; suffice it to say that in the aggregate they seem to prove that the second Gospel, in spite of its superior originality and adhesion to the normal type, still does not entirely adhere to it or maintain its primary character throughout. The theory that we have in the second Gospel one of the primitive Synoptic documents is not tenable. No doubt this is an embarrassing result. The question is easy to ask and difficult to answer--If our St. Mark does not represent the original form of the document, what does represent it? The original document, if not quite like our Mark, must have been very nearly like it; but how did any writer come to reproduce a previous work with so little variation? If he had simply copied or reproduced it without change, that would have been intelligible; if he had added freely to it, that also would have been intelligible: but, as it is, he seems to have put in a touch here and made an erasure there on principles that it is difficult for us now to follow. We are indeed here at the very _crux_ of Synoptic criticism. For our present purpose however it is not necessary that the question should be solved. We have already obtained an answer on the two points raised by Papias. The second Gospel _is_ written in order; it is _not_ an original document. These two characteristics make it improbable that it is in its present shape the document to which Papias alludes. Does his statement accord any better with the phenomena of the first Gospel? He asserts that it was originally written in Hebrew, and that the large majority of modern critics deny to have been the case with our present Gospel. Many of the quotations in it from the Old Testament are made directly from the Septuagint and not from the Hebrew. There are turns of language which have the stamp of an original Greek idiom and could not have come in through translation. But, without going into this question as to the original language of the first Gospel, a shorter method will be to ask whether it can have been an original document at all? The work to which Papias referred clearly was such, but the very same investigation which shows that our present St. Mark was not original, tells with increased force against St. Matthew. When a document exists dealing with the same subject-matter as two other documents, and those two other documents agree together and differ from it on as many as 944 separate points, there can be little doubt that in the great majority of those points it has deviated from the original, and that it is therefore secondary in character. It is both secondary and secondary on a lower stage than St. Mark: it has preserved the features of the original with a less amount of accuracy. The points of the triple synopsis on which Matthew fails to receive verification are in all 944; those on which Mark fails to receive verification 334; or, in other words, the inaccuracies of Matthew are to those of Mark nearly as three to one. In the case of Luke the proportion is still greater-- as much as five to one. This is but a tithe of the arguments which show that the first Gospel is a secondary composition. An original composition would be homogeneous; it is markedly heterogeneous. The first two chapters clearly belong to a different stock of materials from the rest of the Gospel. A broad division is seen in regard to the Old Testament quotations. Those which are common to the other two Synoptists are almost if not quite uniformly taken from the Septuagint; those, on the other hand, which seem to belong to the reflection of the Evangelist betray more or less distinctly the influence of the Hebrew [Endnote 153:1]. Our Gospel is thus seen to be a recension of another original document or documents and not an original document itself. Again, if our St. Matthew had been an original composition and had appeared from the first in its present full and complete form, it would be highly difficult to account for the omissions and variations in Mark and Luke. We should be driven back, indeed, upon all the impossibilities of the 'Benutzungs-hypothese.' On the one hand, the close resemblance between the three compels us to assume that the authors have either used each other's works or common documents; but the differences practically preclude the supposition that the later writer had before him the whole work of his predecessor. If Luke had had before him the first two chapters of Matthew he could not have written his own first two chapters as he has done. Again, the character of the narrative is such as to be inconsistent with the view that it proceeds from an eye-witness of the events. Those graphic touches, which are so conspicuous in the fourth Gospel, and come out from time to time in the second, are entirely wanting in the first. If parallel narratives, such as the healing of the paralytic, the cleansing of the Temple, or the feeding of the five thousand, are compared, this will be very clearly seen. More; there are features in the first Gospel that are to all appearance unhistorical and due to the peculiar method of the writer. He has a way of reduplicating, so to speak, the personages of one narrative in order to make up for the omission of another [Endnote 154:1]. For instance, he is silent as to the healing of the demoniac at Capernaum, but, instead of this, he gives us two Gadarene demoniacs, at the same time modifying the language in which he describes this latter incident after the pattern of the former; in like manner he speaks of the healing of two blind men at Jericho, but only because he had passed over the healing of the blind man at Bethsaida. Of a somewhat similar nature is the adding of the ass's colt to the ass in the account of the Triumphal Entry. There are also fragmentary sayings repeated in the Gospel in a way that would be natural in a later editor piecing together different documents and finding the same saying in each, but unnatural in an eye- and ear-witness drawing upon his own recollections. Some clear cases of this kind would be Matt. v. 29, 30 (= Matt. xviii. 8, 9) the offending member, Matt. v. 32 (= Matt. xix. 9) divorce, Matt. x. 38, 39 (= Matt. xvi. 24, 25) bearing the cross, loss and gain; and there are various others. These characteristics of the first Gospel forbid us to suppose that it came fresh from the hands of the Apostle in the shape in which we now have it; they also forbid us to identify it with the work alluded to by Papias. Neither of the two first Gospels, as we have them, complies with the conditions of Papias' description to such an extent that we can claim Papias as a witness to them. * * * * * But now a further enquiry opens out upon us. The language of Papias does not apply to our present Gospels; will it apply to some earlier and more primary state of those Gospels, to documents _incorporated in_ the works that have come down to us but not co-extensive with them? German critics, it is well known, distinguish between 'Matthäus'--the present Gospel that bears the name of St. Matthew--and 'Ur-Matthäus,' or the original work of that Apostle, 'Marcus'--our present St. Mark--and 'Ur-Marcus,' an older and more original document, the real production of the companion of St. Peter. Is it to these that Papias alludes? Here we have a much more tenable and probable hypothesis. Papias says that Matthew composed 'the oracles' ([Greek: ta logia]) in the Hebrew tongue. The meaning of the word [Greek: logia] has been much debated. Perhaps the strictest translation of it is that which has been given, 'oracles'--short but weighty and solemn or sacred sayings. I should be sorry to say that the word would not bear the sense assigned to it by Dr. Westcott, who paraphrases it felicitously (from his point of view) by our word 'Gospel' [Endnote 155:1]. It is, however, difficult to help feeling that the _natural_ sense of the word has to be somewhat strained in order to make it cover the whole of our present Gospel, and to bring under it the record of facts to as great an extent as discourse. It seems at least the simplest and most obvious interpretation to confine the word strictly or mainly to discourse. 'Matthew composed the discourses (those brief yet authoritative discourses) in Hebrew.' At this point we are met by a further coincidence. The common matter in the first three Gospels is divided into a triple synopsis and a double synopsis--the first of course running through all three Gospels, the second found only in St. Matthew and St. Luke. But this double synopsis is nearly, though not quite, confined to discourse; where it contains narration proper, as in the account of John the Baptist and the Centurion of Capernaum, discourse is largely mingled with it. But, if the matter common to Matthew and Luke consists of discourse, may it not be these very [Greek: logia] that Papias speaks of? Is it not possible that the two Evangelists had access to the original work of St. Matthew and incorporated its material into their own Gospels in different ways? It would thus be easy to understand how the name that belonged to a special and important part of the first Gospel gradually came to be extended over the whole. Bulk would not unnaturally be a great consideration with the early Christians. The larger work would quickly displace the smaller; it would contain all that the smaller contained with additions no less valuable, and would therefore be eagerly sought by the converts, whose object would be rather fulness of information than the best historical attestation. The original work would be simply lost, absorbed, in the larger works that grew out of it. This is the kind of presumption that we have for identifying the Logia of Papias with the second ground document of the first Gospel--the document, that is, which forms the basis of the double synopsis between the first Gospel and the third. As a hypothesis the identification of these two documents seems to clear up several points. It gives a 'local habitation and a name' to a document, the separate and independent existence of which there is strong reason to suspect, and it explains how the name of St. Matthew came to be placed at the head of the Gospel without involving too great a breach in the continuity of the tradition. It should be remembered that Papias is not giving his own statement but that of the Presbyter John, which dates back to a time contemporary with the composition of the Gospel. On the other hand, by the time of Irenaeus, whose early life ran parallel with the closing years of Papias, the title was undoubtedly given to the Gospel in its present form. It is therefore as difficult to think that the Gospel had no connection with the Apostle whose name it bears, as it is impossible to regard it as entirely his work. The Logia hypothesis seems to suggest precisely such an intermediate relation as will satisfy both sides of the problem. There are, however, still difficulties in the way. When we attempt to reconstruct the 'collection of discourses' the task is very far from being an easy one. We do indeed find certain groups of discourse in the first Gospel--such as the Sermon on the Mount ch. v-vii, the commission of the Apostles ch. x, a series of parables ch. xiii, of instructions in ch. xviii, invectives against the Pharisees in ch. xxvi, and long eschatological discourses in ch. xxiv and xxv, which seem at once to give a handle to the theory that the Evangelist has incorporated a work consisting specially of discourses into the main body of the Synoptic narrative. But the appearance of roundness and completeness which these discourses present is deceptive. If we are to suppose that the form in which the discourses appear in St. Matthew at all nearly represents their original structure, then how is it that the same discourses are found in the third Gospel in such a state of dispersion? How is it, for instance, that the parallel passages to the Sermon on the Mount are found in St. Luke scattered over chapters vi, xi, xii, xiii, xiv, xvi, with almost every possible inversion and variety of order? Again, if the Matthaean sections represent a substantive work, how are we to account for the strange intrusion of the triple synopsis into the double? What are we to say to the elaborately broken structure of ch. x? On the other hand, if we are to take the Lucan form as nearer to the original, that original must have been a singular agglomeration of fragments which it is difficult to piece together. It is easy to state a theory that shall look plausible so long as it is confined to general terms, but when it comes to be worked out in detail it will seem to be more and more difficult and involved at every step. The Logia hypothesis in fact carries us at once into the very nodus of Synoptic criticism, and, in the present state of the question, must be regarded as still some way from being established. The problem in regard to St. Mark and the triple synopsis is considerably simpler. Here the difficulty arises from the necessity of assuming a distinction between our present second Gospel and the original document on which that Gospel is based. I have already touched upon this point. The synoptical analysis seems to conduct us to a ground document greatly resembling our present St. Mark, which cannot however be quite identical with it, as the Canonical Gospel is found to contain secondary features. But apart from the fact that these secondary features are so comparatively few that it is difficult to realise the existence of a work in which they, and they only, should be absent, there is this further obstacle to the identification even of the ground document with the Mark of Papias, that even in that original shape the Gospel still presented the normal type of the Synoptic order, though 'order' is precisely the characteristic that Papias says was, in this Gospel, wanting. Everywhere we meet with difficulties and complexities. The testimony of Papias remains an enigma that can only be solved--if ever it is solved--by close and detailed investigations. I am bound in candour to say that, so far as I can see myself at present, I am inclined to agree with the author of 'Supernatural Religion' against his critics [Endnote 159:1], that the works to which Papias alludes cannot be our present Gospels in their present form. What amount of significance this may have for the enquiry before us is a further question. Papias is repeating what he had heard from the Presbyter John, which would seem to take us up to the very fountainhead of evangelical composition. But such a statement does not preclude the possibility of subsequent changes in the documents to which it refers. The difficulties and restrictions of local communication must have made it hard for an individual to trace all the phases of literary activity in a society so widely spread as the Christian, even if it had come within the purpose of the writer or his informant to state the whole, and not merely the essential part, of what he knew. CHAPTER VI. THE CLEMENTINE HOMILIES. It is unfortunate that there are not sufficient materials for determining the date of the Clementine Homilies. Once given the date and a conclusion of considerable certainty could be drawn from them; but the date is uncertain, and with it the extent to which they can be used as evidence either on one side or on the other. Some time in the second century there sprang up a crop of heretical writings in the Ebionite sect which were falsely attributed to Clement of Rome. The two principal forms in which these have come down to us are the so-called Homilies and Recognitions. The Recognitions however are only extant in a Latin translation by Rufinus, in which the quotations from the Gospels have evidently been assimilated to the Canonical text which Rufinus himself used. They are not, therefore, in any case available for our purpose. Whether the Recognitions or the Homilies came first in order of time is a question much debated among critics, and the even way in which the best opinions seem to be divided is a proof of the uncertainty of the data. On the one side are ranged Credner, Ewald, Reuss, Schwegler, Schliemann, Uhlhorn, Dorner, and Lücke, who assign the priority to the Homilies: on the other, Hilgenfeld, Köstlin, Ritschl (doubtfully), and Volkmar, who give the first place to the Recognitions [Endnote 162:1]. On the ground of authority perhaps the preference should be given to the first of these, as representing more varied parties and as carrying with them the greater weight of sound judgment, but it is impossible to say that the evidence on either side is decisive. The majority of critics assign the Clementines, in one form or the other, to the middle of the second century. Credner, Schliemann, Scholten, and Renan give this date to the Homilies; Volkmar and Hilgenfeld to the Recognitions; Ritschl to both recensions alike [Endnote 162:2]. We shall assume hypothetically that the Homilies are rightly thus dated. I incline myself to think that this is more probable, but, speaking objectively, the probability could not have a higher value put upon it than, say, two in three. One reason for assigning the Homilies to the middle of the second century is presented by the phenomena of the quotations from the Gospels which correspond generally to those that are found in writings of this date, and especially, as has been frequently noticed, to those which we meet with in Justin. I proceed to give a tabulated list of the quotations. In order to bring out a point of importance I have indicated by a letter in the left margin the presence in the Clementine quotations of some of the _peculiarities_ of our present Gospels. When this letter is unbracketed, it denotes that the passage is _only_ found in the Gospel so indicated; when the letter is enclosed in brackets, it is implied that the passage is synoptical, but that the Clementines reproduce expressions peculiar to that particular Gospel. The direct quotations are marked by the letter Q. Many of the references are merely allusive, and in more it is sufficiently evident that the writer has allowed himself considerable freedom [Endnote 163:1]. _Exact._ |_Slightly variant._ | _Variant._ | _Remarks._ | | | (M.) | |8.21, Luke 4.6-8 |narrative. | | (=Matt. 4.8-10), | | | Q. | | |3.55, [Greek: ho | | | ponaeros estin | | | ho peirazon.], | | | Q. | | |15.10, Matt. 5.3; | | | Luke 6.20. | M. |17.7, Matt. 5.8. | | (M.) |3.51 } Matt. 5. | |repeated |Ep. Pet. 2} 17,18. | | identically. | |11.32, Matt. 5. |highly condensed | | 21-48. | paraphrase, | | | [Greek: oi | | | en planae.] | { Matt.5.44,| |allusive merely. |12.32 { 45(=Luke | | |3.19 {6.27, 28, | | | {35). | | M. |3.56, Matt. 5.34, | | | 35, Q. | | M. |3.55} Matt. 5.37. | |repeated identi- |19.2} Q. | | cally; so | | | Justin. (M.) | |3.57. Matt. 5.45. | | | Q. | | | {|oblique and allu- | |12.26 {| sive, repeated | |18.2. {| in part simi- | |11.12 {| larly; [Greek: | | {| pherei ton | | {| hueton]. M. |3.55, Matt. 6,6, Q. | | 19.2, Matt.6.13 | | | Q. | | | (M.) |3.55, Matt. 6.32; | |combination. | 6.8 (=Luke 12.30.)| | | |18.16, Matt. 7.2 |oblique and allu- | | (12). | sive. |3.52, Matt. 7.7 | |[Greek: euris- | (=Luke 11.9). | | kete] for | | | [euraeskete] | | | in both. (L.M.) |3.56, Matt. 7.9-11 | |striking divi- | (=Luke 11.11-13) | | sion of pecu- | | | liarities of | | | both Gospels. | |12.32} Matt. 7.12 |repeated di- | |7.4 } (=Luke | versely, | |11.4 } 6.31. | allusive. (M.) |18.17, Matt. 7. |(omissions), Q. | | 13,14. | | | |7.7. Matt. 7.13, |allusive para- | | 14. | phrase. (L.) |8.7, Luke 6.46. | | |11.35, Matt. 7.15. | |Justin, in part | | | similarly, in | | | part diversely. (M.) |8.4, Matt. 8.11, |(addition), Q. |Justin diversely. | 12 (Luke 13.29). | | |9.21, Matt. 8.9 | |allusive merely. | (Luke 7.8). | | (M.) |3.56, Matt. 9.13 |(addition), Q. |from LXX. | (12.7). | | (L.M.) | | {Matt. 10. |{ | | { 13, 15= |{ | | { Luke 10. |{ | |13.30, { 5,6,10- |{mixed pecu- | | 31. { 12 (9.5) |{ liarities, | | { =Mark |{ oblique and | | { 6.11. |{ allusive. (L.M.) |17.5, Matt. 10.28 | |mixed peculia- | (=Luke 12,4, 5), Q.| | rities; Justin | | | diversely. | |12.31, Matt. 10. |allusive merely. | | 29, 30 (=Luke | | | 12.6, 7). | |3.17 {Matt. 11.11. | |allusive. | {Luke 7.28. | | |8.6, Matt. 11.25 |(addition)+. |perhaps from | (=Luke x.21). | | Matt. 21.16. (M.) | |17.4 } |{ | |18.4 }Matt. 11.27 |{repeated simi- | |18.7 } (=Luke |{ larly; cp. | |18.13} 10.22), Q.|{ Justin, &c. | |18.20} | M. 3.52, Matt. | | | (M.) |+19.2. Matt. 12. | |[Greek: allae | 26, Q. | | pou.] (M.L.) |+19.7, Matt. 12. | | | 34 (=Luke 6. | | | 45), Q. | | M.11.33, Matt. |(addition), Q. | | 12.42. | | | |11.33, Matt. 12. | | | 41 (=Luke 11. | | | 32), Q. | | (M.L.) |M.53, Matt. 13. | | | 16 (=Luke 10. | | | 24), +Q. | | M.18.15, Matt. | | | 13.35+. | | | Mk. |19.20, Mark 4.34. | | M. |19.2, Matt. 13. | | |39, Q. | | M.3.52, Matt. 15.| | | 15 (om. [Greek:| | | mou]), Q. | | | | | {Matt. 15. |narrative. | |11.19 {21-28 | | | {(=Mark |[Greek: Iousta | | {7.24-30). | Surophoini- | | | kissa.] (M.) |17.18, Matt. 16. | | | 16 (par.) | | M. | |Ep. Clem. 2, |allusive merely. | | Matt. 16.19. | M. |Ep. Clem. 6, Matt. | |ditto. | 16.19. | | (M.) |3.53, Matt. 17.5 | | | (par.), Q. | | M. | |12.29, Matt. 18. |addition [Greek: | | 7, Q. | ta agatha | | | elthein.] M. |17.7, Matt. 18.10 | | | (v.l.) | | (L.) 3.71, Luke | | | 10.7. (order) | | | (=Matt.10.10). | | | L. |+19.2, Luke 10.18. | | L. | |9.22, Luke 10.20. |allusive merely. L. | |17.5, Luke 18.6- | | | 8, Q. (?) | | |19.2, [Greek: mae |Cp. Eph. 4.27. | | dote prophasin | | | to ponaero], Q. | | |3.53, Prophet like|Cp. Acts 3.22. | | Moses, Q. | (M.) |3.54, Matt. 19.8, | |sense more diver- | 4 (=Mark 10.5, | | gent than | 6), Q. | | words. | | {Matt. 19. |} | |17.4 { 16,17. |} | |18.1 {Mark 10. |}repeated simi- | |18.3 { 17,18. |} larly; cp. | |18.17 {Luke 18. |} Justin. | | 3.57 { 18,19. |} L. | |3.63, Luke 19. |not quotation. | | 5.9. | M.8.4, Matt. 22. | | | 14, Q. | | | (M.) | |8.22, Matt. 22.9. |allusive merely. | | 11. | | | 3.50 {Matt. 22. |} | | 2.51 {29 (=Mark |}repeated simi- | |18.20 {12.24), Q. |} larly. | | 3.50, [Greek: | | | dia ti ou | | | eulogon ton | | | graphon;] | (Mk.) 3.55, Mark | | | 12.27 (par.), | | | Mk. 3.57, Mark | | | 12.29 [Greek: | | | haemon], Q. | | | | |17.7, Mark 12.30 |allusive. | | (=Matt. 22.37). | {|3.18, Matt. 23.2, | | M. {| 3, Q. | | {| |3.18, Matt. 23.13 |repeated simi- {| | (=Luke 11.52). | larly. | |18.15. | (M.) |11.29, Matt. 23. | | | 25, 26, Q. | | (Mk.) {|3.15, Mark 13.2 | | {|(par.), Q. | | {| |3.15, Matt. 24.3 | {| | (par.), Q. | L. {| |Luke 19.43, Q. | | |16.21, [Greek: | | | esontai pseud- | | | apostoloi]. | (M.) |3.60 (3.64), Matt. | |part repeated | 24.45-51 (= | | larly. | Luke 12.42-46). | | (M.) 3.65, Matt. | | | 25.21 (= Luke | | | 19.17). | | | (M. L.) | |3.61, Matt. 25.26,|? mixed peculi- | | 26,27 (=Luke 19.| arities. | | 22,23). | | | 2.51}[Greek: | | | 3.50} ginesthe | | |18.20} trapezitai | | | } dokimoi.] | M. | |19.2. Matt. 25. |[Greek: allae | | 41, Q. | pou.] Justin | | | L. |11.20, Luke 23.34 | | | (v.l.), Q. | | | |17.7, Matt. 28.19.|allusive. By far the greater part of the quotations in the Clementine Homilies are taken from the discourses, but some few have reference to the narrative. There can hardly be said to be any material difference from our Gospels, though several apocryphal sayings and some apocryphal details are added. Thus the Clementine writer calls John a 'Hemerobaptist,' i.e. member of a sect which practised daily baptism [Endnote 167:1]. He talks about a rumour which became current in the reign of Tiberius about the 'vernal equinox,' that at the same season a king should arise in Judaea who should work miracles, making the blind to see, the lame to walk, healing every disease, including leprosy, and raising the dead; in the incident of the Canaanite woman (whom, with Mark, he calls a Syrophoenician) he adds her name, 'Justa,' and that of her daughter 'Bernice;' he also limits the ministry of our Lord to one year [Endnote 168:1]. Otherwise, with the exception of the sayings marked as without parallel, all of the Clementine quotations have a more or less close resemblance to our Gospels. We are struck at once by the small amount of exact coincidence, which is considerably less than that which is found in the quotations from the Old Testament. The proportion seems lower than it is, because many of the passages that have been entered in the above list do not profess to be quotations. Another phenomenon equally remarkable is the extent to which the writer of the Homilies has reproduced the peculiarities of particular extant Gospels. So far front being it a colourless text, as it is in some few places which present a parallel to our Synoptic Gospels, the Clementine version both frequently includes passages that are found only in some one of the canonical Gospels, and also, we may say usually, repeats the characteristic phrases by which one Gospel is distinguished from another. Thus we find that as many as eighteen passages reappear in the Homilies that are found only in St. Matthew; one of the extremely few that are found only in St. Mark; and six of those that are peculiar to St. Luke. Taking the first Gospel, we find that the Clementine Homilies contain (in an allusive form) the promises to the pure in heart; as a quotation, with close resemblance, the peculiar precepts in regard to oaths; the special admonition to moderation of language which, as we have seen, seems proved to be Matthaean by the clause [Greek: to gar perisson touton k.t.l.]; with close resemblance, again, the directions for secret prayer; identically, the somewhat remarkable phrase, [Greek: deute pros me pantes hoi kopiontes]; all but identically another phrase, also noteworthy, [Greek: pasa phuteia haen ouk ephuteusen ho pataer [mou] ho ouranios ekrizothaesetai]; with a resemblance that is closer in the text of B ([Greek: en to ourano] for [Greek: en ouranois]), the saying respecting the angels who behold the face of the Father; identically again, the text [Greek: polloi klaetoi, oligoi de eklektoi]: in the shape of an allusion only, the wedding garment; with near agreement, 'the Scribes and Pharisees sit in Moses' seat.' All these are passages found only in the first Gospel, and in regard to which there is just so much presumption that they had no large circulation among non-extant Gospels, as they did not find their way into the two other Gospels that have come down to us. There is, however, a passage that I have not mentioned here which contains (if the canonical reading is correct) a strong indication of the use of our actual St. Matthew. The whole history of this passage is highly curious. In the chapter which contains so many parables the Evangelist adds, by way of comment, that this form of address was adopted in order 'that it might be fulfilled which was spoken by the prophet, saying, I will open my mouth in parables; I will utter things which have been kept secret from the foundation of the world.' This is according to the received text, which attributes the quotation to 'the prophet' ([Greek: dia tou prophaetou]). It is really taken from Ps. lxxvii. 2, which is ascribed in the heading to Asaph, who, according to the usage of writers at this date, might be called a prophet, as he is in the Septuagint version of 2 Chron. xxix. 30. The phrase [Greek: ho prophaetaes legei] in quotations from the Psalms is not uncommon. The received reading is that of by far the majority of the MSS. and versions: the first hand of the Sinaitic, however, and the valuable cursives 1 and 33 with the Aethiopic (a version on which not much reliance can be placed) and m. of the Old Latin (Mai's 'Speculum,' presenting a mixed African text) [Endnote 170:1], insert [Greek: Haesaiou] before [Greek: tou prophaetou]. It also appears that Porphyry alleged this as an instance of false ascription. Eusebius admits that it was found in some, though not in the most accurate MSS., and Jerome says that in his day it was still the reading of 'many.' All this is very fully and fairly stated in 'Supernatural Religion' [Endnote 170:2], where it is maintained that [Greek: Haesaiou] is the original reading. The critical question is one of great difficulty; because, though the evidence of the Fathers is naturally suspected on account of their desire to explain away the mistake, and though we can easily imagine that the correction would be made very early and would rapidly gain ground, still the very great preponderance of critical authority is hard to get over, and as a rule Eusebius seems to be trustworthy in his estimate of MSS. Tischendorf (in his texts of 1864 and 1869) is, I believe, the only critic of late who has admitted [Greek: Haesaiou] into the text. The false ascription may be easily paralleled; as in Mark i. 2, Matt. xxvii. 9, Justin, Dial. c. Tryph. 28 (where a passage of Jeremiah is quoted as Isaiah), &c. The relation of the Clementine and of the canonical quotations to each other and to the Septuagint will be represented thus:- _Clem. Hom._ xviii. 15. [Greek: Kai ton Haesaian eipein; Anoixo to stoma mou en parabolais kai exereuxomai kekrummena apo katabolaes kosmou.] _Matt._ xiii. 35. [Greek: Hopos plaerothe to rhaethen dia [Haesaiou?] tou prophaetou legontos; Anoixo en parabolais to stoma mou, ereuxomai kekrummena apo katabolaes kosmou] [om. [Greek: kosmou] a few of the best MSS.] LXX. _Ps._ lxxvii. 2. [Greek: Anoixo en parabolais to stoma mou, phthegxomai problaemata ap' archaes.] The author of 'Supernatural Religion' contends for the reading [Greek: Haesaiou], and yet does not see in the Clementine passage a quotation from St. Matthew. He argues, with a strange domination by modern ideas, that the quotation cannot be from St. Matthew because of the difference of context, and declares it to be 'very probable that the passage with its erroneous reference was derived by both from another and common source.' Surely it is not necessary to go back to the second century to find parallels for the use of 'proof texts' without reference to the context; but, as we have seen, context counts for little or nothing in these early quotations,--verbal resemblance is much more important. The supposition of a common earlier source for both the Canonical and the Clementine text seems to me quite out of the question. There can be little doubt that the reference to the Psalm is due to the first Evangelist himself. Precisely up to this point he goes hand in hand with St. Mark, and the quotation is introduced in his own peculiar style and with his own peculiar formula, [Greek: hopos plaerothae to rhaethen]. I must, however, again repeat that the surest criterion of the use of a Gospel is to be sought in the presence of phrases or turns of expression which are shown to be characteristic and distinctive of that Gospel by a comparison with the synopsis of the other Gospels. This criterion can be abundantly applied in the case of the Clementine Homilies and St. Matthew. I will notice a little more at length some of the instances that have been marked in the above table. Let us first take the passage which has a parallel in Matt. v. 18 and in Luke xvi. 17. The three versions will stand thus:-- _Matt._ v. 18. [Greek: Amaen gar lego humin; heos an parelthae ho ouranos kai hae gae iota en ae mia keraia ou mae parelthae apo tou nomou, heos an panta genaetai.] _Clem. Hom._ iii. 51. _Ep. Pet._ c. 2. [Greek: Ho ouranos kai hae gae pareleusontai, iota en ae mia keraia ou mae parelthae apo tou nomou] [Ep. Pet. adds [Greek: touto de eiraeken, hina ta panta genaetai]]. _Luke_ xvi. 17. [Greek: Eukopoteron de esti, ton ouranon kai taen gaen parelthein, ae tou nomou mian keraian pesein.] It will be seen that in the Clementines the passage is quoted twice over, and each time with the variation [Greek pareleusontai] for [Greek: heos an parelthae]. The author of 'Supernatural Religion' argues from this that he is quoting from another Gospel [Endnote 172:1]. No doubt the fact does tell, so far as it goes, in that direction, but it is easy to attach too much weight to it. The phenomenon of repeated variation may be even said to be a common one in some writers. Dr. Westcott [Endnote 172:2] has adduced examples from Chrysostom, and they would be as easy to find in Epiphanius or Clement of Alexandria, where we can have no doubt that the canonical Gospels are being quoted. A slight and natural turn of expression such as this easily fixes itself in the memory. The author also insists that the passage in the Gospel quoted in the Clementines ended with the word [Green: nomou]; but I think it may be left to any impartial person to say whether the addition in the Epistle of Peter does not naturally point to a termination such as is found in the first canonical Gospel. Our critic seems unable to free himself from the standpoint (which he represents ably enough) of the modern Englishman, or else is little familiar with the fantastic trains and connections of reasoning which are characteristic of the Clementines. Turning from these objections and comparing the Clementine quotation first with the text of St. Matthew and then with that of St. Luke, we cannot but be struck with its very close resemblance to the former and with the wide divergence of the latter. The passage is one where almost every word and syllable might easily and naturally be altered--as the third Gospel shows that they have been altered--and yet in the Clementines almost every peculiarity of the Matthaean version has been retained. Another quotation which shows the delicacy of these verbal relations is that which corresponds to Matt. vi. 32 (= Luke xii. 30):-- _Matt._ vi. 32. [Greek: Oide gar ho pataer humon ho ouranios, hoti chraezete touton hapanton.] _Clem. Hom._ iii. 55. [Greek: [ephae] Oiden gar ho pataer humon ho ouranios hoti chraezete touton hapanton, prin auton axiosaete] (cp. Matt. vi. 8). _Luke_ xii. 30. [Greek: Humon de ho pataer oiden hoti chraezete touton.] The natural inference from the exactness of this coincidence with the language of Matthew as compared with Luke, is not neutralised by the paraphrastic addition from Matt. vi. 8, because such additions and combinations, as will have been seen from our table of quotations from the Old Testament, are of frequent occurrence. The quotation of Matt. v. 45 (= Luke vi. 35) is a good example of the way in which the pseudo-Clement deals with quotations. The passage is quoted as often as four times, with wide difference and indeed complete confusion of text. It is impossible to determine what text he really had before him; but through all this confusion there is traceable a leaning to the Matthaean type rather than the Lucan, ([Greek: [ho] pat[aer ho] en [tois] ouranois ... ton aelion autou anatellei epi agathous kai ponaerous]). It does, however, appear that he had some such phrase as [Greek: hueton pherei] or [Greek: parechei] for [Greek: brechei], and in one of his quotations he has the [Greek: ginesthe agathoi] (for [Greek: chraestoi]) [Greek: kai oiktirmones] of Justin. Justin, on the other hand, certainly had [Greek: brechei]. The, in any case, paraphrastic quotation or quotations which find a parallel in Matt. vii. 13, 14 and Luke xiii. 24 are important as seeming to indicate that, if not taken from our Gospel, they are taken from another in a later stage of formation. The characteristic Matthaean expressions [Greek: stenae] and [Greek: tethlimmenae] are retained, but the distinction between [Greek: pulae] and [Greek: hodos] has been lost, and both the epithets are applied indiscriminately to [Greek: hodos]. In the narrative of the confession of Peter, which belongs to the triple synopsis, and is assigned by Ewald to the 'Collection of Discourses,' [Endnote 174:1] by Weiss [Endnote 174:2] and Holtzmann [Endnote 175:1] to the original Gospel of St. Mark, the Clementine writer follows Matthew alone in the phrase [Greek: Su ei ho huios tou zontos Theou]. The synoptic parallels are-- _Matt._ xvi. 16. [Greek: Su ei ho Christos, ho huios tou Theou tou zontos.] _Mark_ viii. 29. [Greek: Su ei ho Christos.] _Luke_ ix. 20. [Greek: ton Christon tou Theou.] Holtzmann and Weiss seem to agree (the one explicitly, the other implicitly) in taking the words [Greek: ho huios tou Theou tou zontos] as an addition by the first Evangelist and as not a part of the text of the original document. In that case there would be the strongest reason to think that the pseudo-Clement had made use of the canonical Gospel. Ewald, however, we may infer, from his assigning the passage to the 'Collection of Discourses,' regards it as presented by St. Matthew most nearly in its original form, of which the other two synoptic versions would be abbreviations. If this were so, it would then be _possible_ that the Clementine quotation was made directly from the original document or from a secondary document parallel to our first Gospel. The question that is opened out as to the composition of the Synoptics is one of great difficulty and complexity. In any case there is a balance of probability, more or less decided, in favour of the reference to our present Gospel. Another very similar instance occurs in the next section of the synoptic narrative, the Transfiguration. Here again the Clementine Homilies insert a phrase which is only found in St. Matthew, [Greek: [Houtos estin mou ho huios ho agapaetos], eis hon] ([Greek: en ho] Matt.) [Greek: aeudokaesa]. Ewald and Holtzmann say nothing about the origin of this phrase; Weiss [Endnote 176:1] thinks it is probably due to the first Evangelist. In that case there would be an all but conclusive proof--in any case there will be a presumption--that our first Gospel has been followed. But one of the most interesting, as well as the clearest, indications of the use of the first Synoptic is derived from the discourse directed against the Pharisees. It will be well to give the parallel passages in full:-- _Matt._ xxiii. 25, 26. [Greek: Ouai humin grammateis kai Pharisaioi, hupokritai, hoti katharizete to exothen tou potaeriou kai taes paropsidos, esothen de gemousin ex harpagaes kai adikias. Pharisaie tuphle, katharison proton to entos tou potaeriou kai taes paropsidos, hina genaetai kai to ektos auton katharon.] _Clem. Hom._ xi. 29. [Greek: Ouai humin grammateis kai Pharisaioi, hupokritai, hoti katharizete tou potaeriou kai taes paropsidos to exothen, esothen de gemei rhupous. Pharisaie tuphle, katharison proton tou potaeriou kai taes paropsidos to esothen, hina genaetai kai ta exo auton kathara.] _Luke_ xi. 39. [Greek: Nun humeis hoi Pharisaioi to exothen tou potaerion kai tou pinakos katharizete, to de esothen humon gemei harpagaes kai ponaerias. Aphrones ouch ho poiaesas to exothen kai to esothen epoiaese?] Here there is a very remarkable transition in the first Gospel from the plural to the singular in the sudden turn of the address, [Greek: Pharisaie tuphle]. This derives no countenance from the third Gospel, but is exactly reproduced in the Clementine Homilies, which follow closely the Matthaean version throughout. We may defer for the present the notice of a few passages which with a more or less close resemblance to St. Matthew also contain some of the peculiarities of St. Luke. Taking into account the whole extent to which the special peculiarities of the first Gospel reappear in the Clementines, I think we shall be left in little doubt that that Gospel has been actually used by the writer. The peculiar features of our present St. Mark are known to be extremely few, yet several of these are also found in the Clementine Homilies. In the quotation Mark x. 5, 6 (= Matt. xix. 8, 4) the order of Mark is followed, though the words are more nearly those of Matthew. In the divergent quotation Mark xii. 24 (= Matt. xxii. 29) the Clementines, with Mark, introduce [Greek: dia touto]. The concluding clause of the discussion about the Levirate marriage stands (according to the best readings) thus:-- _Matt._ xxii. 32. [Greek: Ouk estin ho Theos nekron, alla zonton.] _Mark_ xii. 27. [Greek: Ouk estin Theos nekron, alla zonton.] _Luke_ xx. 38. [Greek: Theos de ouk estin nekron, alla zonton.] _Clem. Hom._ iii. 55. [Greek: Ouk estin Theos nekron, alla zonton.] Here [Greek: Theos] is in Mark and the Clementines a predicate, in Matthew the subject. In the introduction to the Eschatological discourse the Clementines approach more nearly to St. Mark than to any other Gospel: [Greek: Horate] ([Greek: blepeis], Mark) [Greek: tas] ([Greek: megalas], Mark) [Greek: oikodomas tautas; amaen humin lego] (as Matt.) [Greek: lithos epi lithon ou mae aphethae ode, hos ou mae] (as Mark) [Greek: kathairethae] ([Greek: kataluthae], Mark; other Gospels, future). Instead of [Greek: tas oikodomas toutas] the other Gospels have [Greek: tauta--tauta panta]. But there are two stronger cases than these. The Clementines and Mark alone have the opening clause of the quotation from Deut. vi. 4, [Greek: Akoue, Israael, Kurios ho Theos haemon kurios eis estin]. In the synopsis of the first Gospel this is omitted (Matt. xxii. 37). There is a variation in the Clementine text, which for [Greek: haemon] has, according to Dressel, [Greek: sou], and, according to Cotelier, [Greek: humon]. Both these readings however are represented among the authorities for the canonical text: [Greek: sou] is found in c (Codex Colbertinus, one of the best copies of the Old Latin), in the Memphitic and Aethiopic versions, and in the Latin Fathers Cyprian and Hilary; [Greek: humon] (vester) has the authority of the Viennese fragment i, another representative of the primitive African form of the Old Latin [Endnote 178:1]. The objection to the inference that the quotation is made from St. Mark, derived from the context in which it appears in the Clementines, is really quite nugatory. It is true that the quotation is addressed to those 'who were beguiled to imagine many gods,' and that 'there is no hint of the assertion of many gods in the Gospel' [Endnote 178:2]; but just as little hint is there of the assertion 'that God is evil' in the quotation [Greek: mae me legete agathon] just before. There is not the slightest reason to suppose that the Gospel from which the Clementines quote would contain any such assertion. In this particular case the mode of quotation cannot be said to be very unscrupulous; but even if it were more so we need not go back to antiquity for parallels: they are to be found in abundance in any ordinary collection of proof texts of the Church Catechism or of the Thirty-nine Articles, or in most works of popular controversy. I must confess to my surprise that such an objection could be made by an experienced critic. Credner [Endnote 179:1] gives the last as the one decided approximation to our second Gospel, apparently overlooking the minor points mentioned above; but, at the time when he wrote, the concluding portion of the Homilies, which contains the other most striking instance, had not yet been published. With regard to this second instance, I must express my agreement with Canon Westcott [Endnote 179:2] against the author of 'Supernatural Religion.' The passage stands thus in the Clementines and the Gospel:-- _Clem. Hom._ xix. 20. [Greek: Dio kai tois autou mathaetais kat' idian epelue taes ton ouranon basileias ta mustaeria.] _Mark_ iv. 34. ... [Greek: kat' idian de tois mathaetais autou epeluen panta] (compare iv. 11, [Greek: humin to mustaerion dedotai taes basileias tou Theou]). The canonical reading, [Greek: tois mathaetais autou], rests chiefly upon Western authority (D, b, c, e, f, Vulg.) with A, 1, 33, &c. and is adopted by Tregelles--it should be noted before the discovery of the Codex Sinaiticus. The true reading is probably that which appears in this MS. along with B, C, L, [Greek: Delta symbol], [Greek: tois idiois mathaetais]. We have however already seen the leaning of the Clementines for Western readings. When we compare the synopsis of St. Mark and St. Matthew together we should be inclined to set this down as a very decided instance of quotation from the former. The only circumstance that detracts from the certainty of this conclusion is that a quotation had been made just before which is certainly not from our canonical Gospels, [Greek: ta mustaeria emoi kai tois huiois tou oikou mou phulaxate]. This is rightly noted in 'Supernatural Religion.' All that we can say is that it is a drawback--it is just a makeweight in the opposite scale, as suggesting that the second quotation may be also from an apocryphal Gospel; but it does not by any means serve to counterbalance the presumption that the quotation is canonical. The coincidence of language is very marked. The peculiar compound [Greek: epiluo] occurs only once besides ([Greek: epilusis] also once) in the whole of the New Testament, and not at all in the Gospels. With the third Gospel also there are coincidences. Of the passages peculiar to this Gospel the Clementine writer has the fall of Satan ([Greek: ton ponaeron], Clem.) like lightning from heaven, 'rejoice that your names are written in the book of life' (expanded with evident freedom), the unjust judge, Zacchaeus, the circumvallation of Jerusalem, and the prayer, for the forgiveness of the Jews, upon the cross. It is unlikely that these passages, which are wanting in all our extant Gospels, should have had any other source than our third Synoptic. The 'circumvallation' ([Greek: pericharakosousin] Clem., [Greek: peribalousin charaka] Luke) is especially important, as it is probable, and believed by many critics, that this particular detail was added by the Evangelist after the event. The parable of the unjust judge, though reproduced with something of the freedom to which we are accustomed in patristic narrative quotations both from the Old and New Testament, has yet remarkable similarities of style and diction ([Greek: ho kritaes taes adikias, poiaesei taen ekdikaesin ton boonton pros auton haemeras kai nuktos, Lego humin, poaesei... en tachei).] We have to add to these another class of peculiarities which occur in places where the synoptic parallel has been preserved. Thus in the Sermon on the Mount we find the following:-- _Matt._ vii. 21. [Greek: Ou pas ho legon moi, Kurie, Kurie, eiseleusetai eis taen basileian ton ouranon, all' ho poion to thelaema tou patros mou tou en ouranois] _Clem. Hom._ viii. 7. [Greek: Ti me legeis Kurie, Kurie, kai ou poieis a lego;] _Luke,_ vi. 46. [Greek: Ti de me kaleite Kurie, Kurie, kai ou poeite a lego;] This is one of a class of passages which form the _cruces_ of Synoptic criticism. It is almost equally difficult to think and not to think that both the canonical parallels are drawn from the same original. The great majority of German critics maintain that they are, and most of these would seek that original in the 'Spruchsammlung' or 'Collection of Discourses' by the Apostle St. Matthew. This is usually (though not quite unanimously) held to have been preserved most intact in the first Gospel. But if so, the Lucan version represents a wide deviation from the original, and precisely in proportion to the extent of that deviation is the probability that the Clementine quotation is based upon it. The more the individuality of the Evangelist has entered into the form given to the saying the stronger is the presumption that his work lay before the writer of the Clementines. In any case the difference between the Matthaean and Lucan versions shows what various shapes the synoptic tradition naturally assumed, and makes it so much the less likely that the coincidence between St. Luke and the Clementines is merely accidental. Another similar case, in which the issue is presented very clearly, is afforded by the quotation, 'The labourer is worthy of his hire.' _Matt._ x. 11. [Greek: Axios gar ho ergataes taes trophaes autou estin.] _Clem. Hom._ iii. 71. [Greek: [lagisamenoi hoti] axios estin ho ergataes tou misthou autou;] _Luke_ x. 7. [Greek: Axios gar ho ergataes tou misthou autou esti.] Here, if the Clementine writer had been following the first Gospel, he would have had [Greek: trophaes] and not [Greek: misthou]; and the assumption that there was here a non-extant Gospel coincident with St. Luke is entirely gratuitous and, to an extent, improbable. Besides these, it will be seen, by the tables given above, that there are as many as eight passages in which the peculiarities not only of one but of both Gospels (the first and third) appear simultaneously. Perhaps it may be well to give examples of these before we make any comment upon them. We may thus take-- _Matt._ vii. 9-11. [Greek: Ae tis estin ex humon anthropos, hon ean aitaesae ho huios autou arton, mae lithon epidosei auto; kai ean ichthun aitaesae mae ophin epidosei auto; ei oun humeis ponaeroi ontes oidate domata agatha didonai tois teknois humon, poso mallon ho pataer humon ho en tois ouranois dosei agatha tois aitousin auton;] _Clem. Hom._ iii. 56. [Greek: Tina aitaesei huios arton, mae lithon epidosei auto; ae kai ichthun aitaesei, mae ophin epidosei auto; ei oun humeis, ponaeroi ontes, oidate domata agatha didonai tois teknois humon, poso mallon ho pataer humon ho ouranios dosei agatha tois aitoumenois auton kai tois poiousin to thelema autou;] _Luke_ xi. 11-13. [Greek: Tina de ex humon ton matera aitaesei ho huios arton, mae lithon epidosei auto; ae kai ichthun, mae anti ichthuos ophin epidosei auto, ae kai ean aitaeoae oon, mae epidosei auto skorpion; ei oun humeis, ponaeroi humarchontes, oidate domata agatha didonai tois teknois humon, poso mallon ho pataer ho ex ouranou dosei pneuma hagion tois aitousin auton;] In the earlier part of this quotation the Clementine writer seems to follow the third Gospel ([Greek: tina aitaesei, hae kai]); in the later part the first (omission of the antithesis between the egg and the scorpion, [Greek: ontes, dosei agatha]). The two Gospels are combined against the Clementines in [Greek: hex humon] and the simpler [Greek: tois aitousin auton]. The second example shall be-- _Matt._ x. 28. [Greek: Kai mae thobeisthe hapo ton aposteinonton to soma, taen de psuchaen mae dunamenon aposteinan thobeisthe de mallon ton dunamaenon kai psuchaen kai soma apolesai en geennae.] _Clem. Hom._ xviii. 5. [Greek: Mae phobaethaete apo tou aposteinontos to soma tae de psuchae mae dunamenou ti poiaesai phobaethaete tou dunamenon kai soma kai psuchaen eis taen geennan tou puros balein. Nai, lego humin, touton phobaethaete.] _Luke xii._ 4, 5. [Greek: Mae phobaethaete apo ton aposteinonton to soma kai meta tauta mae echonton perissoteron ti poiaesai. Hupodeixo de humin tina phobaethaete phobaethaete ton meta to aposteinai echonta exousian embalein eis ton geennan nai, lego humin, touton phobaethaete.] In common with Matthew the Clementines have [Greek: tae de psuchae] (acc. Matt.) ... [Greek: dunamenon]([Greek: -on] Matt.), and [Greek: dunamenon kai soma kai psuchaen] (in inverted order, Matt.); in common with Luke [Greek: mae phobaethaete, ti poiaesai, [em]balein eis], and the clause [Greek: nai k.t.l.] The two Gospels agree against the Clementines in the plural [Greek: ton aposteinonton.] One more longer quotation:-- _Matt._ xxiv. 45-51. [Greek: Tis ara estin ho pistos doulos kai phronimos, hon katestaesen ho kurios autou epi taes therapeias autou tou dounai autois taen trophaen en kairo? makarios ho doulos ekeinos hon elthon ho kurios autou heuraesei houto poiounta ... Ean de eipae ho kakos doulos ekeinos en tae kardia autou; chronizei mou ho kurios, kai arxaetai tuptein tous sundoulous autou esthiae de kai pinae meta ton methuonton, haexei ho kurios tou doulou ekeinou en haemera hae ou prosdoka kai en hora hae ou ginoskei, kai dichotomaesei auton kai to meros autou meta ton hupokriton thaesei.] _Clem. Hom._ iii. 60. [Greek: Theou gar boulae anadeiknutai makarios ho anthropos ekeinos hon katastaesei ho kurios autou epi taes therapeias ton sundoulon hautou, tou didonai autois tas trophas en kairo auton, mae ennooumenon kai legonta en tae kardia autou; chronizei ho kurios mou elthein; kai arxaetai tuptein tous sundoulous autou, esthion kai pinon meta te pornon kai methuonton; kai haexei ho kurios tou doulou ekeinou en hora hae ou prosdoka kai en haemera hae ou ginoskei, kai dichotomaesei auton, kai to apistoun autou meros meta ton hupokriton thaesei.] _Luke_ xii. 42-45. [Greek: Tis ara estin ho pistos oikonomos kai phronimos, hon katastaesei ho kurios epi taes therapeias autou, tou didonai en kairo to sitometrion? makarios ho doulos ekeinos, hon elthon ho kurios autou heuraesei poiounta hautos ... Ean de eipae ho doulos ekeinos en tae kardia autou; chronizei ho kurios mou erchesthai; kai arxaetai tuptein tous paidas kai tas paidiskas, esthiein te kai pinein kai methuskesthai; haexei ho kurios tou doulou ekeinou en haemera hae ou prosdoka, kai en hora hae ou ginoskei, kai dichotomaesei auton kai to meros autou meta ton apiston thaesei.] I have given this passage in full, in spite of its length, because it is interesting and characteristic; it might indeed almost be said to be typical of the passages, not only in the Clementine Homilies, but also in other writers like Justin, which present this relation of double similarity to two of the Synoptics. It should be noticed that the passage in the Homilies is not introduced strictly as a quotation but is interwoven with the text. On the other hand, it should be mentioned that the opening clause, [Greek: Makarios ... sundolous autou], recurs identically about thirty lines lower down. We observe that of the peculiarities of the first Synoptic the Clementines have [Greek: doulos] ([Greek: oikonomos], Luke), [Greek: [ho kurios] autou, taen trophaen] ([Greek: tas trophas], Clem.; Luke, characteristically, [Greek: to sitometrion]), the order of [Greek: en kairo, tous sundolous autou] ([Greek: tous paidas kai tas paidiskas], Luke), [Greek: meta ... methuonton], and [Greek: hupokriton] for [Greek: apiston]. Of the peculiarities of the third Synoptic the Clementines reproduce the future [Greek: katastaesei], the present [Greek: didonai], the insertion of [Greek: elthein] ([Greek: erchesthai], Luke) after [Greek: chronizei], the order of the words in this clause, and a trace of the word [Greek: apiston] in [Greek: to apistoun autou meros]. The two Gospels support each other in most of the places where the Clementines depart from them, and especially in the two verses, one of which is paraphrased and the other omitted. Now the question arises, What is the origin of this phenomenon of double resemblance? It may be caused in three ways: either it may proceed from alternate quoting of our two present Gospels; or it may proceed from the quoting of a later harmony of those Gospels; or, lastly, it may proceed from the quotation of a document earlier than our two Synoptics, and containing both classes of peculiarities, those which have been dropped in the first Gospel as well as those which have been dropped in the third, as we find to be frequently the case with St. Mark. Either of the first two of these hypotheses will clearly suit the phenomena; but they will hardly admit of the third. It does indeed derive a very slight countenance from the repetition of the language of the last quotation: this repetition, however, occurs at too short an interval to be of importance. But the theory that the Clementine writer is quoting from a document older than the two Synoptics, and indeed their common original, is excluded by the amount of matter that is common to the two Synoptics and either not found at all or found variantly in the Clementines. The coincidence between the Synoptics, we may assume, is derived from the fact that they both drew from a common original. The phraseology in which they agree is in all probability that of the original document itself. If therefore this phraseology is wanting in the Clementine quotations they are not likely to have been drawn directly from the document which underlies the Synoptics. This conclusion too is confirmed by particulars. In the first quotation we cannot set down quite positively the Clementine expansion of [Greek: tois aitousin auton] as a later form, though it most probably is so. But the strange and fantastic phrase in the last quotation, [Greek: to apistoun auton meros meta ton hupokriton thaesei], is almost certainly a combination of the [Greek: hupokriton] of Matthew with a distorted reminiscence of the [Greek: apiston] of Luke. We have then the same kind of choice set before us as in the case of Justin. Either the Clementine writer quotes our present Gospels, or else he quotes some other composition later than them, and which implies them. In other words, if he does not bear witness to our Gospels at first hand, he does so at second hand, and by the interposition of a further intermediate stage. It is quite possible that he may have had access to such a tertiary document, and that it may be the same which is the source of his apocryphal quotations: that he did draw from apocryphal sources, partly perhaps oral, but probably in the main written, there can, I think, be little doubt. Neither is it easy to draw the line and say exactly what quotations shall be referred to such sources and what shall not. The facts do not permit us to claim the exclusive use of the canonical Gospels. But that they were used, mediately or immediately and to a greater or less degree, is, I believe, beyond question. CHAPTER VII BASILIDES AND VALENTINUS. Still following the order of 'Supernatural Religion,' we pass with the critic to another group of heretical writers in the earlier part of the second century. In Basilides the Gnostic we have the first of a chain of writers who, though not holding the orthodox tradition of doctrine, yet called themselves Christians (except under the stress of persecution) and used the Christian books--whether or to what extent the extant documents of Christianity we must now endeavour to determine. Basilides carries us back to an early date in point of time. He taught at Alexandria in the reign of Hadrian (117-137 A.D.). Hippolytus expounds at some length, and very much in their own words, the doctrines of Basilides and his school. There is a somewhat similar account by Epiphanius, and more incidental allusions in Clement of Alexandria and Origen. The notices that have come down to us of the writings of Basilides are confusing. Origen says that 'he had the effrontery to compose a Gospel and call it by his own name' [Endnote 188:1]. Eusebius quotes from Agrippa Castor, a contemporary and opponent from the orthodox side, a statement that 'he wrote four and twenty books (presumably of commentary) upon the Gospel' [Endnote 189:1]. Clement of Alexandria gives rather copious extracts from the twenty-third of these books, to which he gave the name of 'Exegetics' [Endnote 189:2]. Tischendorf assumes, in a manner that is not quite so 'arbitrary and erroneous' [Endnote 189:3] as his critic seems to suppose, that this Commentary was upon our four Gospels. It is not altogether clear how far Eusebius is using the words of Agrippa Castor and how far his own. If the latter, there can be no doubt that he understood the statement of Agrippa Castor as Tischendorf understands his, i.e. as referring to our present Gospels; but supposing his words to be those of the earlier writer, it is possible that, coming from the orthodox side, they may have been used in the sense which Tischendorf attributes to them. There can be no question that Irenaeus used [Greek: to euangelion] for the canonical Gospels collectively, and Justin Martyr may _perhaps_ have done so. Tischendorf himself does not maintain that it refers to our Gospels _exclusively_. Practically the statements in regard to the Commentary of Basilides lead to nothing. Neither does it appear any more clearly what was the nature of the Gospel that Basilides wrote. The term [Greek: euangelion] had a technical metaphysical sense in the Basilidian sect and was used to designate a part of the transcendental Gnostic revelations. The Gospel of Basilides may therefore, as Dr. Westcott suggests, reasonably enough, have had a philosophical rather than a historical character. The author of 'Supernatural Religion' censures Dr. Westcott for this suggestion [Endnote 189:4], but a few pages further on he seems to adopt it himself, though he applies it strangely to the language of Eusebius or Agrippa Castor and not to Basilides' own work. In any case Hippolytus expressly says that, after the generation of Jesus, the Basilidians held 'the other events in the life of the Saviour followed as they are written in the Gospels' [Endnote 190:1]. There is no reason at all to suppose that there was a breach of continuity in this respect between Basilides and his school. And if his Gospel really contained substantially the same events as ours, it is a question of comparatively secondary importance whether he actually made use of those Gospels or no. It is rather remarkable that Hippolytus and Epiphanius, who furnish the fullest accounts of the tenets of Basilides (and his followers), say nothing about his Gospel: neither does Irenaeus or Clement of Alexandria; the first mention of it is in Origen's Homily on St. Luke. This shows how unwarranted is the assumption made in 'Supernatural Religion' [Endnote 190:2] that because Hippolytus says that Basilides appealed to a secret tradition he professed to have received from Matthias, and Eusebius that he set up certain imaginary prophets, 'Barcabbas and Barcoph,' he therefore had no other authorities. The statement that he 'absolutely ignores the canonical Gospels altogether' and does not 'recognise any such works as of authority,' is much in excess of the evidence. All that this really amounts to is that neither Hippolytus nor Eusebius say in so many words that Basilides did use our Gospels. It would be a fairer inference to argue from their silence, and still more from that of the 'malleus haereticorum' Epiphanius, that he did not in this depart from the orthodox custom; otherwise the Fathers would have been sure to charge him with it, as they did Marcion. It is really I believe a not very unsafe conclusion, for heretical as well as orthodox writers, that where the Fathers do not say to the contrary, they accepted the same documents as themselves. The main questions that arise in regard to Basilides are two: (1) Are the quotations supposed to be made by him really his? (2) Are they quotations from our Gospels? The doubt as to the authorship of the quotations applies chiefly to those which occur in the 'Refutation of the Heresies' by Hippolytus. This writer begins his account of the Basilidian tenets by saying, 'Let us see here how Basilides along with Isidore and his crew belie Matthias,' [Endnote 191:1] &c. He goes on using for the most part the singular [Greek: phaesin], but sometimes inserting the plural [Greek: kat' autous]. Accordingly, it has been urged that quotations which are referred to the head of the school really belong to his later followers, and the attempt has further been made to prove that the doctrines described in this section of the work of Hippolytus are later in their general character than those attributed to Basilides himself. This latter argument is very fine drawn, and will not bear any substantial weight. It is, however, probably true that a confusion is sometimes found between the 'eponymus,' as it were, of a school and his followers. Whether that has been the case here is a question that we have not sufficient data for deciding positively. The presumption is against it, but it must be admitted to be possible. It seems a forced and unnatural position to suppose that the disciples would go to one set of authorities and the master to another, and equally unnatural to think that a later critic, like Hippolytus, would confine himself to the works of these disciples and that in none of the passages in which quotations are introduced he has gone to the fountain head. We may decline to dogmatise; but probability is in favour of the supposition that some at least of the quotations given by Hippolytus come directly from Basilides. Some of the quotations discussed in 'Supernatural Religion' are expressly assigned to the school of Basilides. Thus Clement of Alexandria, in stating the opinion which this school held on the subject of marriage, says that they referred to our Lord's saying, 'All men cannot receive this,' &c. _Strom._ iii. I. 1. [Greek: Ou pantes chorousi ton logon touton, eisi gar eunouchoi oi men ek genetaes oi de ex anankaes.] _Matt._ xix. 11, 12. [Greek: Ou pantes chorousi ton logon touton, all' ois dedotai, eisin gar eunouchoi oitines ek kiolias maetros egennaethaesan outos, kai eisin eunouchoi oitines eunouchisthaesan hupo ton anthropon, k.t.l.] The reference of this to St. Matthew is far from being so 'preposterous' [Endnote 192:1] as the critic imagines. The use of the word [Greek: chorein] in this sense is striking and peculiar: it has no parallel in the New Testament, and but slight and few parallels, as it appears from the lexicons and commentators, in previous literature. The whole phrase is a remarkable one and the verbal coincidence exact, the words that follow are an easy and natural abridgment. On the same principles on which it is denied that this is a quotation from St. Matthew it would be easy to prove _a priori_ that many of the quotations in Clement of Alexandria could not be taken from the canonical Gospels which, we know, _are_ so taken. The fact that this passage is found among the Synoptics only in St. Matthew must not count for nothing. The very small number of additional facts and sayings that we are able to glean from the writers who, according to 'Supernatural Religion,' have used apocryphal Gospels so freely, seems to be proof that our present Gospels were (as we should expect) the fullest and most comprehensive of their kind. If, then, a passage is found only in one of them, it is fair to conclude, not positively, but probably, that it is drawn from some special source of information that was not widely diffused. The same remarks hold good respecting another quotation found in Epiphanius, which also comes under the general head of [Greek: Basileidianoi], though it is introduced not only by the singular [Greek: phaesin] but by the definite [Greek: phaesin ho agurtaes]. Here the Basilidian quotation has a parallel also peculiar to St. Matthew, from the Sermon on the Mount. _Epiph. Haer_. 72 A. [Greek: Mae bagaete tous margaritas emprosthen ton choiron, maede dote to hagion tois kusi.] _Matt_ vii. 6. [Greek: Mae dote to hagion tois kusin, maede bagaete tous margaritas humon emprosthen ton choiron.] The excellent Alexandrine cursive I, with some others, has [Greek: dóte] for [Greek: dôte] The transposition of clauses, such as we see here, is by no means an infrequent phenomenon. There is a remarkable instance of it--to go no further--in the text of the benedictions with which the Sermon on the Mount begins. In respect to the order of the two clauses, 'Blessed are they that mourn' and 'Blessed are the meek,' there is a broad division in the MSS. and other authorities. For the received order we find [Hebrew: aleph;], B, C, 1, the mass of uncials and cursives, b, f, Syrr. Pst. and Hcl., Memph., Arm., Aeth.; for the reversed order, 'Blessed are the meek' and 'Blessed are they that mourn,' are ranged D, 33, Vulg., a, c, f'1, g'1, h, k, l, Syr. Crt., Clem., Orig., Eus., Bas. (?), Hil. The balance is probably on the side of the received reading, as the opposing authorities are mostly Western, but they too make a formidable array. The confusion in the text of St. Luke as to the early clauses of the Lord's Prayer is well known. But if such things are done in the green tree, if we find these variations in MSS. which profess to be exact transcripts of the same original copy, how much more may we expect to find them enter into mere quotations that are often evidently made from memory, and for the sake of the sense, not the words. In this instance however the verbal resemblance is very close. As I have frequently said, to speak of certainties in regard to any isolated passage that does not present exceptional phenomena is inadmissible, but I have little moral doubt that the quotation was really derived from St. Matthew, and there is quite a fair probability that it was made by Basilides himself. The Hippolytean quotations, the ascription of which to Basilides or to his school we have left an open question, will assume a considerable importance when we come to treat of the external evidence for the fourth Gospel. Bearing upon the Synoptic Gospels, we find an allusion to the star of the Magi and an exact verbal quotation (introduced with [Greek: to eiraemenon]) of Luke i. 35, [Greek: Pneuma hagion epeleusetai epi se, kai dunamis hupsistou episkiasei soi]. Both these have been already discussed with reference to Justin. All the other Gospels in which the star of the Magi is mentioned belong to a later stage of formation than St. Matthew. The very parallelism between St. Matthew and St. Luke shows that both Gospels were composed at a date when various traditions as to the early portions of the history were current. No doubt secondary, or rather tertiary, works, like the Protevangelium of James, came to be composed later; but it is not begging the question to say that if the allusion is made by Basilides, it is not likely that at that date he should quote any other Gospel than St. Matthew, simply because that is the earliest form in which the story of the Magi has come down to us. The case is stronger in regard to the quotation from St. Luke. In Justin's account of the Annunciation to Mary there was a coincidence with the Protevangelium and a variation from the canonical text in the phrase [Greek: pneuma kuriou] for [Greek: pneuma hagion]; but in the Basilidian quotation the canonical text is reproduced syllable for syllable and letter for letter, which, when we consider how sensitive and delicate these verbal relations are, must be taken as a strong proof of identity. The reader may be reminded that the word [Greek: episkiazein], the phrase [Greek: dunamism hupsistou], and the construction [Greek: eperchesthai epi], are all characteristic of St. Luke: [Greek; episkiazein] occurs once in the triple synopsis and besides only here and in Acts v. 15: [Greek: hupsistos] occurs nine times in St. Luke's writings and only four times besides; it is used by the Evangelist especially in phrases like [Greek: uios, dunamis, prophaetaes, doulos hupsistou], to which the only parallel is [Greek: hiereus tou Theou tou hupsistou] in Heb. vii. 1. The construction of [Greek: eperchesthai] with [Greek: epi] and the accusative is found five times in the third Gospel and the Acts and not at all besides in the New Testament; indeed the participial form, [Greek: eperchomenos] (in the sense of 'future'), is the only shape in which the word appears (twice) outside the eight times that it occurs in St. Luke's writings. This is a body of evidence that makes it extremely difficult to deny that the Basilidian quotation has its original in the third Synoptic. 2. The case in regard to Valentinus, the next great Gnostic leader, who came forward about the year 140 A.D., is very similar to that of Basilides, though the balance of the argument is slightly altered. It is, on the one hand, still clearer that the greater part of the evangelical references usually quoted are really from our present actual Gospels, but, on the other hand, there is a more distinct probability that these are to be assigned rather to the School of Valentinus than to Valentinus himself. The supposed allusion to St. John we shall pass over for the present. There is a string of allusions in the first book of Irenaeus, 'Adv. Haereses,' to the visit of Jesus as a child to the Passover (Luke ii. 42), the jot or tittle of Matt. v. 18, the healing of the issue of blood, the bearing of the cross (Luke xiv. 27 par.), the sending of a sword and not peace, 'his fan is in his hand,' the salt and light of the world, the healing of the centurion's servant, of Jairus' daughter, the exclamations upon the cross, the call of the unwilling disciples, Zacchaeus, Simon, &c. We may take it, I believe, as admitted, and it is indeed quite indisputable, that these are references to our present Gospels; but there is the further question whether they are to be attributed directly to Valentinus or to his followers, and I am quite prepared to admit that there are no sufficient grounds for direct attribution to the founder of the system. Irenaeus begins by saying that his authorities are certain 'commentaries of the disciples of Valentinus' and his own intercourse with some of them [Endnote 197:1]. He proceeds to announce his intention to give a 'brief and clear account of the opinions of those who were then teaching their false doctrines [Greek: nun paradidaskonton], that is, of Ptolemaeus and his followers, a branch of the school of Valentinus.' It is fair to infer that the description of the Valentinian system which follows is drawn chiefly from these sources. This need not, however, quite necessarily exclude works by Valentinus himself. It is at any rate clear that Irenaeus had some means of referring to the opinions of Valentinus as distinct from his school; because, after giving a sketch of the system, he proceeds to point out certain contradictions within the school itself, quoting first Valentinus expressly, then a disciple called Secundus, then 'another of their more distinguished and ambitious teachers,' then 'others,' then a further subdivision, finally returning to Ptolemaeus and his party again. On the whole, Irenaeus seems to have had a pretty complete knowledge of the writings and teaching of the Valentinians. We conclude therefore, that, while it cannot be alleged positively that any of the quotations or allusions were really made by Valentinus, it would be rash to assert that none of them were made by him, or that he did not use our present Gospels. However this may be, we cannot do otherwise than demur to the statement implied in 'Supernatural Religion' [Endnote 198:1], that the references in Irenaeus can only be employed as evidence for the Gnostic usage between the years 185-195 A.D. This is a specimen of a kind of position that is frequently taken up by critics upon that side, and that I cannot but think quite unreasonable and uncritical. Without going into the question of the date at which Irenaeus wrote at present, and assuming with the author of 'Supernatural Religion' that his first three books were published before the death of Eleutherus in A.D. 190--the latest date possible for them,--it will be seen that the Gnostic teaching to which Irenaeus refers is supposed to begin at a time when his first book may very well have been concluded, and to end actually five years later than the latest date at which this portion of the work can have been published! Not only does the author allow no time at all for Irenaeus to compose his own work, not only does he allow none for him to become acquainted with the Gnostic doctrines, and for those doctrines themselves to become consolidated and expressed in writing, but he goes so far as to make Irenaeus testify to a state of things five years at least, and very probably ten, in advance of the time at which he was himself writing! No doubt there is an oversight somewhere, but this is the kind of oversight that ought not to be made. This, however, is an extreme instance of the fault to which I was alluding--the tendency in the negative school to allow no time or very little for processes that in the natural course of things must certainly have required a more or less considerable interval. On a moderate computation, the indirect testimony of Irenaeus may be taken to refer--not to the period 185-195 A.D., which is out of the question--but to that from 160-180 A.D. This is not pressing the possibility, real as it is, that Valentinus himself, who flourished from 140-160 A.D., may have been included. We may agree with the author of 'Supernatural Religion' that Irenaeus probably made the personal acquaintance of the Valentinian leaders, and obtained copies of their books, during his well-known visit to Rome in 178 A.D. [Endnote 199:1] The applications of Scripture would be taken chiefly from the books of which some would be recent but others of an earlier date, and it can surely be no exaggeration to place the formation of the body of doctrine which they contained in the period 160-175 A.D. above mentioned. I doubt whether a critic could be blamed who should go back ten years further, but we shall be keeping on the safe side if we take our _terminus a quo_ as to which these Gnostic writings can be alleged in evidence at about the year 160. A genuine fragment of a letter of Valentinus has been preserved by Clement of Alexandria in the second book of the Stromateis [Endnote 200:1]. This is thought to contain references to St. Matthew's Gospel by Dr. Westcott, and, strange to say, both to St. Matthew and St. Luke by Volkmar. These references, however, are not sufficiently clear to be pressed. A much less equivocal case is supplied by Hippolytus--less equivocal at least so far as the reference goes. Among the passages which received a specially Gnostic interpretation is Luke i. 35, 'The Holy Ghost shall come upon thee, and the power of the Most High shall overshadow thee: wherefore also the holy thing which is born (of thee) shall be called the Son of God.' This is quoted thus, 'The Holy Ghost shall come upon thee, and the power of the Most High shall overshadow thee: wherefore that which is born of thee shall be called holy.' _Luke_ i. 35. [Greek: Pneuma hagion epeleusetai epi se, kai dunamis hupsistou episkiasei soi, dio kai to gennomenon [ek sou] hagion klaethaesetai huios Theon.] _Ref. Omn. Haes._ vi. 35. [Greek: Pneuma hagion epeleusetai epi se... kai dunamis hupsistou episkiasei soi... dio to gennomenon ek sou hagion klaethaesetai.] That St. Luke has been the original here seems to be beyond a doubt. The omission of [Greek: huios Theou] is of very little importance, because from its position [Greek: hagion] would more naturally stand as a predicate, and the sentence would be quite as complete without the [Greek: huios Theou] as with it. On the other hand, it would be difficult to compress into so small a space so many words and expressions that are peculiarly characteristic of St. Luke. In addition to those which have just been noticed in connection with Basilides, there is the very remarkable [Greek: to gennomenon], which alone would be almost enough to stamp the whole passage. We are still however pursued by the same ambiguity as in the case of Basilides. It is not certain that the quotation is made from the master and not from his scholars. There is no reason, indeed, why it should be made from the latter rather than the former; the point must in any case be left open: but it cannot be referred to the master with so much certainty as to be directly producible under his name. And yet, from whomsoever the quotation may have been made, if only it has been given rightly by Hippolytus, it is a strong proof of the antiquity of the Gospel. The words [Greek: ek sou], will be noticed, are enclosed in brackets in the text of St. Luke as given above. They are a corruption, though an early and well-supported corruption, of the original. The authorities in their favour are C (first hand), the good cursives 1 and 33, one form of the Vulgate, a, c, e, m of the Old Latin, the Peshito Syriac, the Armenian and Aethiopic versions, Irenaeus, Gregory Thaumaturgus, Tertullian, Cyprian, and Epiphanius. On the other hand, for the omission are A. B, C (third hand), D, [Hebrew: Aleph symbol], and the rest of the uncials and cursives, another form of the Vulgate, b, f, ff, g'2, l of the Old Latin, the Harclean and Jerusalem Syriac, the Memphitic, Gothic, and some MSS. of the Armenian versions, Origen, Dionysius and Peter of Alexandria, and Eusebius. A text critic will see at once on which side the balance lies. It is impossible that [Greek: ek sou] could have been the reading of the autograph copy, and it is not, I believe, admitted into the text by any recent editor. But if it was present in the copy made use of by the Gnostic writer, whoever he was, that copy must have been already far enough removed from the original to admit of this corruption; in other words, it has lineage enough to throw the original some way behind it. We shall come to more of such phenomena in the next chapter. I said just now that the quotation could not with certainty be referred to Valentinus, but it is at least considerably earlier than the contemporaries of Hippolytus. It appears that there was a division in the Valentinian School upon the interpretation of this very passage. Ptolemaeus and Heracleon, representing the Western branch, took one side, while Axionicus and Bardesanes, representing the Eastern, took the other. Ptolemaeus and Heracleon were both, we know, contemporaries of Irenaeus, so that the quotation was used among the Valentinians at least in the time of Irenaeus, and very possibly earlier, for it usually takes a certain time for a subject to be brought into controversy. We must thus take the _terminus ad quem_ for the quotation not later than 180 A.D. How much further back it goes we cannot say, but even then (if the Valentinian text is correctly preserved by Hippolytus) it presents features of corruption. That the Valentinians made use of unwritten sources as well as of written, and that they possessed a Gospel of their own which they called the Gospel of Truth, does not affect the question of their use of the Synoptics. For these very same Valentinians undoubtedly did use the Synoptics, and not only them but also the fourth Gospel. It is immediately after he has spoken of the 'unwritten' tradition of the Valentinians that Irenaeus proceeds to give the numerous quotations from the Synoptics referred to above, while in the very same chapter, and within two sections of the place in which he alludes to the Gospel of Truth, he expressly says that these same Valentinians used the Gospel according to St. John freely (plenissime) [Endnote 203:1]. It should also be remembered that the alleged acceptance of the four Gospels by the Valentinians rests upon the statement of Irenaeus [Endnote 203:2] as well as upon that of the less scrupulous and accurate Tertullian. There is no good reason for doubting it. CHAPTER VIII. MARCION. [Endnote 204:1] Of the various chapters in the controversy with which we are dealing, that which relates to the heretic Marcion is one of the most interesting and important; important, because of the comparative fixity of the data on which the question turns; interesting, because of the peculiar nature of the problem to be dealt with. We may cut down the preliminary disquisitions as to the life and doctrines of Marcion, which have, indeed, a certain bearing upon the point at issue, but will be found given with sufficient fulness in 'Supernatural Religion,' or in any of the authorities. As in most other points relating to this period, there is some confusion in the chronological data, but these range within a comparatively limited area. The most important evidence is that of Justin, who, writing as a contemporary (about 147 A.D.) [Endnote 205:1], says that at that time Marcion had 'in every nation of men caused many to blaspheme' [Endnote 205:2]; and again speaks of the wide spread of his doctrines ([Greek: ho polloi peisthentes, k.t.l.]) [Endnote 205:3]. Taking these statements along with others in Irenaeus, Tertullian, and Epiphanius, modern critics seem to be agreed that Marcion settled in Rome and began to teach his peculiar doctrines about 139-142 A.D. This is the date assigned in 'Supernatural Religion' [Endnote 205:4]. Volkmar gives 138 A.D. [Endnote 205:5] Tischendorf, on the apologetic side, would throw back the date as far as 130, but this depends upon the date assigned by him to Justin's 'Apology,' and conflicts too much with the other testimony. It is also agreed that Marcion himself did actually use a certain Gospel that is attributed to him. The exact contents and character of that Gospel are not quite so clear, and its relation to the Synoptic Gospels, and especially to our third Synoptic, which bears the name of St. Luke, is the point that we have to determine. The Church writers, Irenaeus, Tertullian, and Epiphanius, without exception, describe Marcion's Gospel as a mutilated or amputated version of St. Luke. They contrast his treatment of the evangelical tradition with that pursued by his fellow-Gnostic, Valentinus [Endnote 205:6]. Valentinus sought to prove his tenets by wresting the interpretation of the Apostolic writings; Marcion went more boldly to work, and, having first selected his Gospel, our third Synoptic, cut out the passages both in it and in ten Epistles of St. Paul, admitted by him to be genuine, which seemed to conflict with his own system. He is also said to have made additions, but these were in any case exceedingly slight. The statement of the Church writers should hardly, perhaps, be put aside quite so summarily as is sometimes done. The life of Irenaeus overlapped that of Marcion considerably, and there seems to have been somewhat frequent communication between the Church at Lyons, where he was first presbyter and afterwards bishop, and that of Rome, where Marcion was settled; but Irenaeus [Endnote 206:1], as well as Tertullian and Epiphanius, alludes to the mutilation of St. Luke's Gospel by Marcion as a notorious fact. Too much stress, however, must not be laid upon this, because the Catholic writers were certainly apt to assume that their own view was the only one tenable. The modern controversy is more important, though it has to go back to the ancient for its data. The question in debate may be stated thus. Did Marcion, as the Church writers say, really mutilate our so-called St. Luke (the name is not of importance, but we may use it as standing for our third Synoptic in its present shape)? Or, is it not possible that the converse may be true, and that Marcion's Gospel was the original and ours an interpolated version? The importance of this may, indeed, be exaggerated, because Marcion's Gospel is at any rate evidence for the existence at his date in a collected form of so much of the third Gospel (rather more than two-thirds) as he received. Still the issue is not inconsiderable: for, upon the second hypothesis, if the editor of our present Gospel made use of that which was in the possession of Marcion, his date may be--though it does not follow that it certainly would be--thrown into the middle of the second century, or even beyond, if the other external evidence would permit; whereas, upon the first hypothesis, the Synoptic Gospel would be proved to be current as early as 140 A.D.; and there will be room for considerations which may tend to date it much earlier. There will still be the third possibility that Marcion's Gospel may be altogether independent of our present Synoptic, and that it may represent a parallel recension of the evangelical tradition. This would leave the date of the canonical Gospel undetermined. It is a fact worth noting that the controversy, at least in its later and more important stages, had been fought, and, to all appearance, fought out, within the Tübingen school itself. Olshausen and Hahn, the two orthodox critics who were most prominently engaged in it, after a time retired and left the field entirely to the Tübingen writers. The earlier critics who impugned the traditional view appear to have leaned rather to the theory that Marcion's Gospel and the canonical Luke are, more or less, independent offshoots from the common ground-stock of the evangelical narratives. Ritschl, and after him Baur and Schwegler, adopted more decidedly the view that the canonical Gospel was constructed out of Marcion's by interpolations directed against that heretic's teaching. The reaction came from a quarter whence it would not quite naturally have been expected--from one whose name we have already seen associated with some daring theories, Volkmar, Professor of Theology at Zürich. With him was allied the more sober-minded, laborious investigator, Hilgenfeld. Both these writers returned to the charge once and again. Volkmar's original paper was supplemented by an elaborate volume in 1852, and Hilgenfeld, in like manner, has reasserted his conclusions. Baur and Ritschl professed themselves convinced by the arguments brought forward, and retracted or greatly modified their views. So far as I am aware, Schwegler is the only writer whose opinion still stands as it was at first expressed; but for some years before his death, which occurred in 1857, he had left the theological field. Without at all prejudging the question on this score, it is difficult not to feel a certain presumption in favour of a conclusion which has been reached after such elaborate argument, especially where, as here, there could be no suspicion of a merely apologetic tendency on either side. Are we, then, to think that our English critic has shown cause for reopening the discussion? There is room to doubt whether he would quite maintain as much as this himself. He has gone over the old ground, and reproduced the old arguments; but these arguments already lay before Hilgenfeld and Volkmar in their elaborate researches, and simply as a matter of scale the chapter in 'Supernatural Religion' can hardly profess to compete with these. Supposing, for the moment, that the author has proved the points that he sets himself to prove, to what will this amount? He will have shown (a) that the patristic statement that Marcion mutilated St. Luke is not to be accepted at once without further question; (b) that we cannot depend with perfect accuracy upon the details of his Gospel, as reconstructed from the statements of Tertullian and Epiphanius; (c) that it is difficult to explain the whole of Marcion's alleged omissions, on purely, dogmatic grounds--assuming the consistency of his method. With the exception of the first, I do not think these points are proved to any important extent; but, even if they were, it would still, I believe, be possible to show that Marcion's Gospel was based upon our third Synoptic by arguments which hardly cross or touch them at all. But, before we proceed further, it is well that we should have some idea as to the contents of the Marcionitic Gospel. And here we are brought into collision with the second of the propositions just enunciated. Are we able to reconstruct that Gospel from the materials available to us with any tolerable or sufficient approach to accuracy? I believe no one who has gone into the question carefully would deny that we can. Here it is necessary to define and guard our statements, so that they may cover exactly as much ground as they ought and no more. Our author quotes largely, especially from Volkmar, to show that the evidence of Tertullian and Epiphanius is not to be relied upon. When we refer to the chapter in which Volkmar deals with this subject [Endnote 209:1]--a chapter which is an admirable specimen of the closeness and thoroughness of German research--we do indeed find some such expressions, but to quote them alone would give an entirely erroneous impression of the conclusion to which the writer comes. He does not say that the statements of Tertullian and Epiphanius are untrustworthy, simply and absolutely, but only that they need to be applied with caution _on certain points_. Such a point is especially the silence of these writers as proving, or being supposed to prove, the absence of the corresponding passage in Marcion's Gospel. It is argued, very justly, that such an inference is sometimes precarious. Again, in quoting longer passages, Epiphanius is in the habit of abridging or putting an &c. ([Greek: kai ta hexaes-- kai ta loipa]), instead of quoting the whole. This does not give a complete guarantee for the intermediate portions, and leaves some uncertainty as to where the passage ends. Generally it is true that the object of the Fathers is not critical but dogmatic, to refute Marcion's system out of his own Gospel. But when all deductions have been made on these grounds, there are still ample materials for reconstructing that Gospel with such an amount of accuracy at least as can leave no doubt as to its character. The wonder is that we are able to do so, and that the statements of the Fathers should stand the test so well as they do. Epiphanius especially often shows the most painstaking care and minuteness of detail. He has reproduced the manuscript of Marcion's Gospel that he had before him, even to its clerical errors [Endnote 210:1]. He and Tertullian are writing quite independently, and yet they confirm each other in a remarkable manner. 'If we compare the two witnesses,' says Volkmar, 'we find the most satisfactory (sicher- stellendste) coincidence in their statements, entirely independent as they are, as well in regard to that which Marcion has in common with Luke, as in regard to very many of the points in which his text differed from the canonical. And this applies not only to simple omissions which Epiphanius expressly notes and Tertullian confirms by passing over what would otherwise have told against Marcion, but also to the minor variations of the text which Tertullian either happens to name or indicate by his translation, while they are confirmed by the direct statement of [the other] opponent who is equally bent on finding such differences' [Endnote 211:1]. Out of all the points on which they can be compared, there is a real divergence only in two. Of these, one Volkmar attributes to an oversight on the part of Epiphanius, and the other to a clerical omission in his manuscript [Endnote 211:2]. When we consider the cumbrousness of ancient MSS., the absence of divisions in the text, and the consequent difficulty of making exact references, this must needs be taken for a remarkable result. And the very fact that we have two--or, including Irenaeus, even three--independent authorities, makes the text of Marcion's Gospel, so far as those authorities are available, or, in other words, for the greater part of it, instead of being uncertain among quite the most certain of all the achievements of modern criticism [Endnote 211:3]. This is seen practically--to apply a simple test--in the large amount of agreement between critics of the most various schools as to the real contents of the Gospel. Our author indeed speaks much of the 'disagreement.' But by what standard does he judge? Or, has he ever estimated its extent? Putting aside merely verbal differences, the total number of whole verses affected will be represented in the following table:-- iv. 16-30: doubt as to exact extent of omissions affecting about half the verses. 38, 39: omitted according to Hahn; retained according to Hilgenfeld and Volkmar. vii. 29-35: omitted, Hahn and Ritschl; retained, Hilgenfeld and Volkmar. x. 12-15: ditto ditto. xiii. 6-10: omitted, Volkmar; retained, Hilgenfeld and Rettig. xvii. 5-10: omitted, Ritschl; retained, Volkmar and Hilgenfeld. 14-19: doubt as to exact omissions. xix. 47, 48: omitted, Hilgenfeld and Volkmar; retained, Hahn and Anger. xxii. 17, 18: doubtful. 23-27: omitted, Ritschl; retained, Hilgenfeld and Volkmar. 43, 44: ditto ditto. xxiii. 39-42: ditto ditto. 47-49: omitted, Hahn; retained, Ritschl, Hilgenfeld, Volkmar. xxiv. 47-53: uncertain [Endnote 212:1]. This would give, as a maximum estimate of variation, some 55 verses out of about 804, or, in other words, about seven per cent. But such an estimate would be in fact much too high, as there can be no doubt that the earlier researches of Hahn and Ritschl ought to be corrected by those of Hilgenfeld and Volkmar; and the difference between these two critics is quite insignificant. Taking the severest view that it is possible to take, no one will maintain that the differences between the critics are such as to affect the main issue, so that upon one hypothesis one theory would hold good, and upon another hypothesis another. It is a mere question of detail. We may, then, reconstruct the Gospel used by Marcion with very considerable confidence that we have its real contents before us. In order to avoid any suspicion I will take the outline given in 'Supernatural Religion' (ii. p. 127), adding only the passage St. Luke vii. 29-35, which, according to the author's statement (a mistaken one, however) [Endnote 213:1], is 'generally agreed' to have been wanting in Marcion's Gospel. In that Gospel, then, the following portions of our present St. Luke were omitted:-- Chaps. i. and ii, including the prologue, the Nativity, and the birth of John the Baptist. Chap. iii (with the exception of ver. 1), containing the baptism of our Lord, the preaching of St. John, and the genealogy. iv. 1-13, 17-20, 24: the Temptation, the reading from Isaiah. vii. 29-35: the gluttonous man. xi. 29-32, 49-51: the sign of Jonas, and the blood of the prophets. xiii. 1-9, 29-35: the slain Galileans, the fig-tree, Herod, Jerusalem. xv. 11-32: the prodigal son. xvii. 5-10: the servant at meat. xviii. 31-34: announcement of the Passion. xix. 29-48: the Triumphal Entry, woes of Jerusalem, cleansing of the Temple. xx. 9-18, 37, 38: the wicked husbandmen; the God of Abraham. xxi. 1-4, 18, 21, 22: the widow's mite; 'a hair of your head;' flight of the Church. xxii. 16-18, 28-30, 35-38, 49-51: the fruit of the vine, 'eat at my table,' 'buy a sword,' the high-priest's servant. xxiv. 47-53: the last commission, the Ascension. Here we have another remarkable phenomenon. The Gospel stands to our Synoptic entirely in the relation of _defect_. We may say entirely, for the additions are so insignificant--some thirty words in all, and those for the most part supported by other authority--that for practical purposes they need not be reckoned. With the exception of these thirty words inserted, and some, also slight, alterations of phrase, Marcion's Gospel presents simply an _abridgment_ of our St. Luke. Does not this almost at once exclude the idea that they can be independent works? If it does not, then let us compare the two in detail. There is some disturbance and re-arrangement in the first chapter of Marcion's Gospel, though the substance is that of the third Synoptic; but from this point onwards the two move step by step together but for the omissions and a single transposition (iv. 27 to xvii. 18). Out of fifty-three sections peculiar to St. Luke--from iv. 16 onwards--all but eight were found also in Marcion's Gospel. They are found, too, in precisely the same order. Curious and intricate as is the mosaic work of the third Gospel, all the intricacies of its pattern are reproduced in the Gospel of Marcion. Where Luke makes an insertion in the groundstock of the narrative, there Marcion makes an insertion also; where Luke omits part of the narrative, Marcion does the same. Among the documents peculiar to St. Luke are some of a very marked and individual character, which seem to have come from some private source of information. Such, for instance, would be the document viii. 1-3, which introduces names so entirely unknown to the rest of the evangelical tradition as Joanna and Susanna [Endnote 215:1]. A trace of the same, or an allied document, appears in chap. xxiv, where we have again the name Joanna, and afterwards that of the obscure disciple Cleopas. Again, the mention of Martha and Mary is common only to St. Luke and the fourth Gospel. Zacchaeus is peculiar to St. Luke. Yet, not only does each of the sections relating to these personages re-appear in Marcion's Gospel, but it re-appears precisely at the same place. A marked peculiarity in St. Luke's Gospel is the 'great intercalation' of discourses, ix. 51 to xviii. 14, evidently inserted without regard to chronological order. Yet this peculiarity, too, is faithfully reproduced in the Gospel of Marcion with the same disregard of chronology--the only change being the omission of about forty-one verses from a total of three hundred and eighty. When Luke has the other two Synoptics against him, as in the insertions Matt. xiv. 3-12, Mark vi. 17-29, and again Matt. xx. 20-28, Mark x. 35-45, and Matt. xxi. 20-22, Mark xi. 20-26, Marcion has them against him too. Where the third Synoptist breaks off from his companions (Luke ix. 17, 18) and leaves a gap, Marcion leaves one too. It has been noticed as characteristic of St. Luke that, where he has recorded a similar incident before, he omits what might seem to be a repetition of it: this characteristic is exactly reflected in Marcion, and that in regard to the very same incidents. Then, wherever the patristic statements give us the opportunity of comparing Marcion's text with the Synoptic--and this they do very largely indeed--the two are found to coincide with no greater variation than would be found between any two not directly related manuscripts of the same text. It would be easy to multiply these points, and to carry them to any degree of detail; if more precise and particular evidence is needed it shall be forthcoming, but in the meantime I think it may be asserted with confidence that two alternatives only are possible. Either Marcion's Gospel is an abridgment of our present St. Luke, or else our present St. Luke is an expansion by interpolation of Marcion's Gospel, or of a document co-extensive with it. No third hypothesis is tenable. It remains, then, to enquire which of these two Gospels had the priority--Marcion's or Luke's; which is to stand first, both in order of time and of authenticity. This, too, is a point that there are ample data for determining. (1.) And, first, let us consider what presumption is raised by any other part of Marcion's procedure. Is it likely that he would have cut down a document previously existing? or, have we reason for thinking that he would be scrupulous in keeping such a document intact? The author of 'Supernatural Religion' himself makes use of this very argument; but I cannot help suspecting that his application of it has slipped in through an oversight or misapprehension. When first I came across the argument as employed by him, I was struck by it at once as important if only it was sound. But, upon examination, not only does it vanish into thin air as an argument in support of the thesis he is maintaining, but there remains in its place a positive argument that tells directly and strongly against that thesis. A passage is quoted from Canon Westcott, in which it is stated that while Tertullian and Epiphanius accuse Marcion of altering the text of the books which he received, so far as his treatment of the Epistles is concerned this is not borne out by the facts, out of seven readings noticed by Epiphanius two only being unsupported by other authority. It is argued from this that Marcion 'equally preserved without alteration the text which he found in his manuscript of the Gospel.' 'We have no reason to believe the accusation of the Fathers in regard to the Gospel--which we cannot fully test-- better founded than that in regard to the Epistles, which we can test, and find unfounded' [Endnote 217:1]. No doubt the premisses of this argument are true, and so also is the conclusion, strictly as it stands. It is true that the Fathers accuse Marcion of tampering with the text in various places, both in the Epistles and in the Gospels where the allegation can be tested, and where it is found that the supposed perversion is simply a difference of reading, proved to be such by its presence in other authorities [Endnote 217:2]. But what is this to the point? It is not contended that Marcion altered to any considerable extent (though he did slightly even in the Epistles [Endnote 217:3]) the text _which he retained_, but that he mutilated and cut out whole passages from that text. He can be proved to have done this in regard to the Epistles, and therefore it is fair to infer that he dealt in the same way with the Gospel. This is the amended form in which the argument ought to stand. It is certain that Marcion made a large excision before Rom. xi. 33, and another after Rom. viii. 11; he also cut out the 'mentiones Abrahae' from Gal. iii. 7, 14, 16-18 [Endnote 218:1]. I say nothing about his excision of the last two chapters of the Epistle to the Romans, because on that point a controversy might be raised. But the genuineness of these other passages is undisputed and indisputable. It cannot be argued here that our text of the Epistle has suffered from later interpolation, and therefore, I repeat, it is so much the more probable that Marcion took from the text of the Gospel than that a later editor added to it. (2.) In examining the internal evidence from the nature and structure of Marcion's Gospel, it has hitherto been the custom to lay most stress upon its dogmatic character. The controversy in Germany has turned chiefly on this. The critics have set themselves to show that the variations in Marcion's Gospel either could or could not be explained as omissions dictated by the exigencies of his dogmatic system. This was a task which suited well the subtlety and inventiveness of the German mind, and it has been handled with all the usual minuteness and elaboration. The result has been that not only have Volkmar and Hilgenfeld proved their point to their own satisfaction, but they also convinced Ritschl and partially Baur; and generally we may say that in Germany it seems to be agreed at the present time that the hypothesis of a mutilated Luke suits the dogmatic argument better than that of later Judaising interpolations. I have no wish to disparage the results of these labours, which are carried out with the splendid thoroughness that one so much admires. Looking at the subject as impartially as I can, I am inclined to think that the case is made out in the main. The single instance of the perverted sense assigned to [Greek: kataelthen] in iv. 31 must needs go a long way. Marcion evidently intends the word to be taken in a transcendental sense of the emanation and descent to earth of the Aeon Christus [Endnote 219:1]. It is impossible to think that this sense is more original than the plain historical use of the word by St. Luke, or to mistake the dogmatic motive in the heretical recension. There is also an evident reason for the omission of the first chapters which relate the human birth of Christ, which Marcion denied, and one somewhat less evident, though highly probable, for the omission of the account of the Baptist's ministry, John being regarded as the finisher of the Old Testament dispensation--the work of the Demiurge. This omission is not quite consistently carried out, as the passage vii. 24-28 is retained--probably because ver. 28 itself seemed to contain a sufficient qualification. The genealogy, as well as viii. 19, was naturally omitted for the same reason as the Nativity. The narrative of the Baptism Marcion could not admit, because it supplied the foundation for that very Ebionism to which his own system was diametrically opposed. The Temptation, x. 21 ('Lord ... of earth'), xxii. 18 ('the fruit of the vine'), xxii. 30 ('eat and drink at my table'), and the Ascension, may have been omitted because they contained matter that seemed too anthropomorphic or derogatory to the Divine Nature. On the other hand, xi. 29-32 (Jonah and Solomon), xi. 49-51 (prophets and apostles), xiii. 1 sqq. (the fig-tree, as the Jewish people?), xiii. 31-35 (the prophet in Jerusalem), the prodigal son (perhaps?), the wicked husbandmen (more probably), the triumphal entry (as the fulfilment of prophecy), the announcement of the Passion (also as such), xxi. 21, 22 (the same), and the frequent allusions to the Old Testament Scriptures, seem to have been expunged as recognising or belonging to the kingdom of the Demiurge [Endnote 220:1]. Again, the changes in xiii. 28, xvi. 17, xx. 35, are fully in accordance with Marcion's system [Endnote 220:2]. The reading which Marcion had in xi. 22 is expressly stated to have been common to the Gnostic heretics generally. In some of these instances the dogmatic motive is gross and palpable, in most it seems to have been made out, but some (such as especially xiii. 1-9) are still doubtful, and the method of excision does not appear to have been carried out with complete consistency. This, indeed, was only to be expected. We are constantly reminded that Tertullian, a man, with all his faults, of enormous literary and general power, did not possess the critical faculty, and no more was that faculty likely to be found in Marcion. It is an anachronism to suppose that he would sit down to his work with that regularity of method and with that subtle appreciation of the affinities of dogma which characterise the modern critic. The Septuagint translators betray an evident desire to soften down the anthropomorphism of the Hebrew; but how easy would it be to convict them of inconsistency, and to show that they left standing expressions as strong as any that they changed! If we judge Marcion's procedure by a standard suited to the age in which he lived, our wonder will be, not that he has shown so little, but so much, consistency and insight. I think, therefore, that the dogmatic argument, so far as it goes, tells distinctly in favour of the 'mutilation' hypothesis. But at the same time it should not be pressed too far. I should be tempted to say that the almost exclusive and certainly excessive use of arguments derived from the history of dogma was the prime fallacy which lies at the root of the Tübingen criticism. How can it be thought that an Englishman, or a German, trained under and surrounded by the circumstances of the nineteenth century, should be able to thread all the mazes in the mind of a Gnostic or an Ebionite in the second? It is difficult enough for us to lay down a law for the actions of our own immediate neighbours and friends; how much more difficult to 'cast the shell of habit,' and place ourselves at the point of view of a civilisation and world of thought wholly different from our own, so as not only to explain its apparent aberrations, but to be able to say, positively, 'this must have been so,' 'that must have been otherwise.' Yet such is the strange and extravagant supposition that we are assumed to make. No doubt the argument from dogma has its place in criticism; but, on the whole, the literary argument is safer, more removed from the influence of subjective impressions, more capable of being cast into a really scientific form. (3.) I pass over other literary arguments which hardly admit of this form of expression--such as the improbability that the Preface or Prologue was not part of the original Gospel, but a later accretion; or, again, from Marcion's treatment of the Synoptic matter in the third Gospel, both points which might be otherwise worth dilating upon. I pass over these, and come at once, without further delay, to the one point which seems to me really to decide the character of Marcion's Gospel and its relation to the Synoptic. The argument to which I allude is that from style and diction. True the English mind is apt to receive literary arguments of that kind with suspicion, and very justly so long as they rest upon a mere vague subjective _ipse dixit_; but here the question can be reduced to one of definite figures and of weighing and measuring. Bruder's Concordance is a dismal- looking volume--a mere index of words, and nothing more. But it has an eloquence of its own for the scientific investigator. It is strange how clearly many points stand out when this test comes to be applied, which before had been vague and obscure. This is especially the case in regard to the Synoptic Gospels; for, in the first place, the vocabulary of the writers is very limited and similar phrases have constant tendency to recur, and, in the second place, the critic has the immense advantage of being enabled to compare their treatment of the same common matter, so that he can readily ascertain what are the characteristic modifications introduced by each. Dr. Holtzmann, following Zeller and Lekebusch, has made a full and careful analysis of the style and vocabulary of St. Luke [Endnote 223:1], but of course without reference to the particular omissions of Marcion. Let us then, with the help of Bruder, apply Holtzmann's results to these omissions, with a view to see whether there is evidence that they are by the same hand as the rest of the Gospel. It would be beyond the proportions of the present enquiry to exhibit all the evidence in full. I shall, therefore, not transcribe the whole of my notes, but merely give a few samples of the sort of evidence producible, along with a brief summary of the general results. Taking first certain points by which the style of the third Evangelist is distinguished from that of the first in their treatment of common matter, Dr. Holtzmann observes, that where Matthew has [Greek: grammateus], Luke has in six places the word [Greek: nomikos], which is only found three times besides in the New Testament (once in St. Mark, and twice in the Epistle to Titus). Of the places where it is used by St. Luke, one is the omitted passage, vii. 30. In citations where Matthew has [Greek: to rhaethen] (14 times; not at all in Luke), Luke prefers the perfect form [Greek: to eiraemenon], so in ii. 24 (Acts twice); compare [Greek: eiraetai], iv. 21. Where Matthew has [Greek: arti] (7 times), Luke has always [Greek: nun], never [Greek: arti]: [Greek: nun] is used in the following passages, omitted by Marcion: i. 48, ii. 29, xix. 42, xxii. 18, 36. With Matthew the word [Greek: eleos] is masculine, with Luke neuter, so five times in ch. i. and in x. 37, which was retained by Marcion. Among the peculiarities of style noted by Dr. Holtzmann which recur in the omitted portions the following are perhaps some of the more striking. Peculiar use of [Greek: to] covering a whole phrase, i. 62 [Greek: to ti an theloi kaleisthai], xix. 48, xxii. 37, and five other places. Peculiar attraction of the relative with preceding case of [Greek: pas], iii. 19, xix. 37, and elsewhere. The formula [Greek: elege (eipe) de parabolaen] (not found in the other Synoptics), xiii. 6, xx. 9, 19, and ten times besides. [Greek: Tou] pleonastic with the infinitive, once in Mark, six times in Matthew, twenty-five times in Luke, of which three times in chap. i, twice in chap. ii, iv. 10, xxi. 22. Peculiar combinations with [Greek: kata, kata to ethos, eiothos, eithismenon], i. 9, ii. 27, 42, and twice. [Greek: Kath' haemeran], once in the other Gospels, thirteen times in Luke and Acts xix. 47; [Greek: kat' etos], ii. 41; [Greek: kata] with peculiar genitive of place, iv. 14 (xxiii. 5) [Endnote 224:1]. Protasis introduced by [Greek: kai hote], ii. 21, 22, 42, [Greek: kai hos], ii. 39, xv. 25, xix. 41. Uses of [Greek: egeneto], especially with [Greek: en to] and infinitive, twice in Mark, in Luke twenty-two times, i. 8, ii. 6, iii. 21, xxiv. 51; [Greek: en to] with the infinitive, three times in St. Matthew, once in St. Mark, thirty-seven times in St. Luke, including i. 8, 21, ii. 6, 27, 43, iii. 21. Adverbs: [Greek: exaes] and [Greek: kathexaes], ten times in the third Gospel and the Acts alone in the New Testament, i. 3; [Greek: achri], twenty times in the third Gospel and Acts, only once in the other Gospels, i. 20, iv. 13; [Greek: exaiphnaes], four times in the Gospel and Acts, once besides in the New Testament, ii. 13; [Greek: parachraema], seventeen times in the Gospel and Acts, twice in the rest of the New Testament, i. 64; [Greek: en meso], thirteen times in the Gospel and Acts, five times in the other Synoptics, ii. 46, xxi. 21. Fondness for optative in indirect constructions, i. 29, 62, iii. 15, xv. 26. Peculiar combination of participles, ii. 36 ([Greek: probebaekuia zaesasa]), iii. 23 ([Greek: archomenos on]), iv. 20 ([Greek: ptuxas apodous]), very frequent. [Greek: Einai], with participle for finite verb (forty-eight times in all), i. 7, 10, 20, 21, 22, ii. 8, 26, 33, 51, iii. 23, iv. 16 ([Greek: aen tethrammenos], omitted by Marcion), iv. 17, 20, xv. 24, 32, xviii. 34, xix. 47, xx. 17, xxiv. 53. Construction of [Greek: pros] with accusative after [Greek: eipein, lalein, apokrinesthai], frequent in Luke, rare in the rest of the New Testament, i. 13, 18, 19, 28, 34, 55, 61, 73, ii. 15, 18, 34, 48, 49, iii. 12, 13, 14, iv. 4, xiii. 7, 34, xv. 22, xviii. 31, xix. 33, 39, xx. 9, 14, 19. This is thrown into marked relief by the contrast with the other Synoptics; the only two places where Matthew appears to have the construction are both ambiguous, iii. 15 (doubtful reading, probably [Greek: auto]), and xxvii. 14 ([Greek: apekrithae auto pros oude hen rhaema]). No other evangelist speaks so much of [Greek: Pneuma hagion], i. 15, 35, 41, 67, ii. 25, 66, iii. 16, 22, iv. 1 (found also in Marcion's reading of xi. 2). Peculiar use of pronouns: Luke has the combination [Greek: kai autos] twenty-eight times, Matthew only twice (one false reading), Mark four or perhaps five times, i. 17, 22, ii. 28, iii. 23, xv. 14; [Greek: kai autoi] Mark has not at all, Matthew twice, Luke thirteen times, including ii. 50, xviii. 34, xxiv. 52. We now come to the test supplied by the vocabulary. The following are some of the words peculiar to St. Luke, or found in his writings with marked and characteristic frequency, which occur in those parts of our present Gospel that were wanting in Marcion's recension: [Greek: anestaen, anastas] occur three times in St. Matthew, twice in St. John, four times in the writings of St. Paul, twenty-six times in the third Gospel and thirty-five times in the Acts, and are found in i. 39, xv. 18, 20; [Greek: antilegein] appears in ii. 34, five times in the rest of the Gospel and the Acts, and only four times together in the rest of the New Testament; [Greek: hapas] occurs twenty times in the Gospel, sixteen times in the Acts, only ten times in the rest of the New Testament, but in ii. 39, iii. 16, 21, iv. 6, xv. 13, xix. 37, 48, xxi. 4 (bis); three of these are, however, doubtful readings. [Greek: aphesis ton amartion], ten times in the Gospel and Acts, seven times in the rest of the New Testament, i. 77, iii. 3. [Greek: dei], Dr. Holtzmann says, 'is found more often in St. Luke than in all the other writers of the New Testament put together.' This does not appear to be strictly true; it is, however, found nineteen times in the Gospel and twenty-five times in the Acts to twenty-four times in the three other Gospels; it occurs in ii. 49, xiii. 33, xv. 32, xxii. 37. [Greek: dechesthai], twenty-four times in the Gospel and Acts, twenty-six times in the rest of the New Testament, six times in St. Matthew, three in St. Mark, ii. 28, xxii. 17. [Greek: diatassein], nine times in the Gospel and Acts, seven times in the rest of the New Testament (Matthew once), iii. 13, xvii. 9, 10. [Greek: dierchesthai] occurs thirty-two times in the Gospel and Acts, twice in each of the other Synoptics, and eight times in the rest of the New Testament, and is found in ii. 15, 35. [Greek: dioti], i. 13, ii. 7 (xxi. 28, and Acts, not besides in the Gospels). [Greek: ean], xxii. 51 (once besides in the Gospel, eight times in the Acts, and three times in the rest of the New Testament). [Greek: ethos], i. 9, ii. 42, eight times besides in St. Luke's writings and only twice in the rest of the New Testament. [Greek: enantion], five times in St. Luke's writings, once besides, i. 8. [Greek: enopion], correcting the readings, twenty times in the Gospel, fourteen times in the Acts, not at all in the other Synoptists, once in St. John, four times in chap. i, iv. 7, xv. 18, 21 (this will be noticed as a very remarkable instance of the extent to which the diction of the third Evangelist impressed itself upon his writings). [Greek: epibibazein], xix. 35 (and twice, only by St. Luke). [Greek: epipiptein], i. 12, xv. 20 (eight times in the Acts and three times in the rest of the New Testament). [Greek: ai eraemoi], only in St. Luke, i. 80, and twice. [Greek: etos] (fifteen times in the Gospel, eleven times in the Acts, three times in the other Synoptics and three times in St. John), four times in chap. ii, iii. 1, 23, xiii, 7, 8, xv. 29. [Greek: thaumazein epi tini], Gospel and Acts five times (only besides in Mark xii. 17), ii. 33. [Greek: ikanos] in the sense of 'much,' 'many,' seven times in the Gospel, eighteen times in the Acts, and only three times besides in the New Testament, iii. 16, xx. 9 (compare xxii. 38). [Greek: kathoti] (like [Greek: kathexaes] above), is only found in St. Luke's writings, i. 7, and five times in the rest of the Gospel and the Acts. [Greek: latreuein], 'in Luke, much oftener than in other parts of the New Testament,' i. 74, ii. 37, iv. 8, and five times in the Acts. [Greek: limos], six times in the Gospel and Acts, six times in the rest of the New Testament, xv. 14, 17. [Greek: maen] (month), i. 24, 26, 36, 56 (iv. 25), alone in the Gospels, in the Acts five times. [Greek: oikos] for 'family,' i. 27, 33, 69, ii. 4, and three times besides in the Gospel, nine times in the Acts. [Greek: plaethos] (especially in the form [Greek: pan to plaethos]), twenty-five times in St. Luke's writings, seven times in the rest of the New Testament, 1. 19, ii. 13, xix. 37. [Greek: plaesai, plaesthaenai], twenty-two times in St. Luke's writings, only three times besides in the New Testament, i. 15, 23, 41, 57, 67, ii. 6, 21, 22, xxi. 22. [Greek: prosdokan], eleven times in the Gospel and Acts, five times in the rest of the New Testament (Matthew twice and 2 Peter), i. 21, iii. 15. [Greek: skaptein], only in Luke three times, xiii. 8. [Greek: speudein], except in 2 Peter iii. 12, only in St. Luke's writings, ii. 16. [Greek: sullambanein], ten times in the Gospel and Acts, five times in the rest of the New Testament, i. 24, 31, 36, ii. 21. [Greek: sumballein], only in Lucan writings, six times, ii. 19. [Greek: sunechein], nine times in the Gospel and Acts, three times besides in the New Testament, xix. 43. [Greek: sotaeria], in chap. i. three times, in the rest of the Gospel and Acts seven times, not in the other Synoptic Gospels. [Greek: hupostrephein], twenty-two times in the Gospel, eleven times in the Acts, and only five times in the rest of the New Testament (three of which are doubtful readings), i. 56, ii. 20, 39, 43, 45, iv. 1, (14), xxiv. 52. [Greek: hupsistos] occurs nine times in the Gospel and Acts, four times in the rest of the New Testament, i. 32, 35, 76, ii. 14, xix. 38. [Greek: hupsos] is also found in i. 78, xxiv. 49. [Greek: charis] is found, among the Synoptics, only in St. Luke, eight times in the Gospel, seventeen times in the Acts, i. 30, ii. 40, 52, xvii. 9. [Greek: hosei] occurs nineteen times in the Gospel and Acts (four doubtful readings, of which two are probably false), seventeen times in the rest of the New Testament (ten doubtful readings, of which in the Synoptic Gospels three are probably false), i. 56, iii. 23. It should be remembered that the above are only samples from the whole body of evidence, which would take up a much larger space if exhibited in full. The total result may be summarised thus. Accepting the scheme of Marcion's Gospel given some pages back, which is substantially that of 'Supernatural Religion,' Marcion will have omitted a total of 309 verses. In those verses there are found 111 distinct peculiarities of St. Luke's style, numbering in all 185 separate instances; there are also found 138 words peculiar to or specially characteristic of the third Evangelist, with 224 instances. In other words, the verified peculiarities of St. Luke's style and diction (and how marked many of these are will have been seen from the examples above) are found in the portions of the Gospel omitted by Marcion in a proportion averaging considerably more than one to each verse! [Endnote 229:1] Coming to detail, we find that in the principal omission-- that of the first two chapters, containing 132 verses--there are 47 distinct peculiarities of style, with 105 instances; and 82 characteristic words, with 144 instances. In the 23 verses of chap. iii. omitted by Marcion (for the genealogy need not be reckoned), the instances are 18 and 14, making a total of 32. In 18 verses omitted from chap. iv. the instances are 13 and 8 = 21. In another longer passage--the parable of the prodigal son--the instances are 8 of the first class and 20 of the second. In 20 verses omitted from chap. xix. the instances are 11 and 6; and in 11 verses omitted from chap. xx, 9 and 8. Of all the isolated fragments that Marcion had ejected from his Gospel, there are only four--iv. 24, xi. 49-51, xx. 37, 38, xxii. 28-30, nine verses in all--in which no peculiarities have been noticed. And yet even here the traces of authorship are not wanting. It happens strangely enough that in a list of parallel passages given by Dr. Holtzmann to illustrate the affinities of thought between St. Luke and St. Paul, two of these very passages--xi. 49 and xx. 38-- occur. I had intended to pursue the investigation through these resemblances, but it seems superfluous to carry it further. It is difficult to see what appeal can be made against evidence such as this. A certain allowance should indeed be made for possible errors of computation, and some of the points may have been wrongly entered, though care has been taken to put down nothing that was not verified by its preponderating presence in the Lucan writings, and especially by its presence in that portion of the Gospel which Marcion undoubtedly received. But as a rule the method applies itself mechanically, and when every deduction has been made, there will still remain a mass of evidence that it does not seem too much to describe as overwhelming. (4.) We may assume, then, that there is definite proof that the Gospel used by Marcion presupposes our present St. Luke, in its complete form, as it has been handed down to us. But when once this assumption has been made, another set of considerations comes in, which also carry with them an important inference. If Marcion's Gospel was an extract from a manuscript containing our present St. Luke, then not only is it certain that that Gospel was already in existence, but there is further evidence to show that it must have been in existence for some time. The argument in this case is drawn from another branch of Biblical science to which we have already had occasion to appeal--text-criticism. Marcion's Gospel, it is known, presents certain readings which differ both from the received and other texts. Some of these are thought by Volkmar and Hilgenfeld to be more original and to have a better right to stand in the text than those which are at present found there. These critics, however, base their opinion for the most part on internal grounds, and the readings defended by them are not as a rule those which are supported by other manuscript authority. It is to this second class rather that I refer as bearing upon the age of the canonical Gospel. The most important various readings of the existence of which we have proof in Marcion's Gospel are as follows [Endnote 231:1]:-- v. 14. The received (and best) text is [Greek: eis marturion autois]. Marcion, according to the express statement of Epiphanius (312 B), read [Greek: hina ae morturion touto humin], which is confirmed by Tertullian, who gives (_Marc._ iv. 8) 'Ut sit vobis in testimonium.' The same or a similar reading is found in D, [Greek: hina eis marturion ae humin touto], 'ut sit in testimonium vobis hoc,' d; 'ut sit in testimonium (--monia, ff) hoc vobis,' a (Codex Vercellensis), b (Codex Veronensis), c (Codex Colbertinus), ff (Codex Corbeiensis), l (Codex Rhedigerianus), of the Old Latin [Endnote 231:2]. v. 39 was _probably_ omitted by Marcion (this is inferred from the silence of Tertullian by Hilgenfeld, p. 403, and Rönsch, p. 634). The verse is also omitted in D, a, b, c, d, e, ff. x. 22. Marcion's reading of this verse corresponded with that of other Gnostics, but has no extant manuscript authority. We have touched upon it elsewhere. x. 25. [Greek: zoaen aionion], Marcion omitted [Greek: aionion] (Tert. _Adv. Marc._ iv. 25); so also the Old Latin Codex g'2 (San Germanensis). xi. 2. Marcion read [Greek: eltheto to hagion pneuma sou eph' haemas] (or an equivalent; see Rönsch, p. 640) either for the clause [Greek: hagiasthaeto to onoma sou] or for [Greek: genaethaeto to thelaema sou], which is omitted in B, L, 1, Vulg., ff, Syr. Crt. There is a curious stray [Greek: eph' haemas] in D which may conceivably be a trace of Marcion's reading. xii. 14. Marcion (and probably Tertullian) read [Greek: kritaen] (or [Greek: dikastaen]) only for [Greek: kritaen ae meristaen]; so D, a ('ut videtur,' Tregelles), c, Syr. Crt. xii. 38. Marcion had [Greek: tae hesperinae phulakae] for [Greek: en tae deutera phulakae kai en tae tritae phulakae]. So b: D, c, e, ff, i, Iren. 334, Syr. Crt., combine the two readings in various ways. xvi. 12. Marcion read [Greek: emon] for [Greek: humeteron]. So e (Palatinus), i (Vindobonensis), l (Rhedigerianus). [Greek: haemeteron] B. L, Origen. xvii. 2. Marcion inserted the words [Greek: ouk egennaethae ae] (Tert. iv. 35), 'ne nasceretur aut,' a, b, c, ff, i, l. xviii. 19. Here again Marcion had a variation which is unsupported by manuscript authority, but has to some extent a parallel in the Clementine Homilies, Justin, &c. xxi. 18. was omitted by Marcion (Epiph. 316 B), and is also omitted in the Curetonian Syriac. xxi. 27. Tertullian (iv. 39) gives the reading of Marcion as 'cum plurima virtute' = [Greek: meta dunameos pollaes [kai doxaes]], for [Greek: meta dun. k. dox. pollaes]; so D ([Greek: en dun. pol.]), and approximately Vulg., a, c, e, f, ff, Syr. Crt., Syr. Pst. xxiii. 2. Marcion read [Greek: diastrephonta to ethnos kai katalionta ton nomon kai tous prophaetas kai keleuonta phorous mae dounai kai anastrephonta tas gunaikas kai ta tekna] (Epiph., 316 D), where [Greek: kataluonta ton nomon kai tous prophaetas] and [Greek: anastrephonta tas gunaikas kai ta tekna] are additions to the text, and [Greek: keleuonta phorous mae dounai] is a variation. Of the two additions the first finds support in b, (c), e, (ff), i, l; the second is inserted, with some variation, by c and e in verse 5. We may thus tabulate the relation of Marcion to these various authorities. The brackets indicate that the agreement is only approximate. Marcion agrees with-- D, d, v. 14, v. 39; xii. 14, (xii. 28), (xxi. 27). a (Verc.), v. 14, v. 39, xii. 14 (apparently), xvii. 2, (xxi. 27). b (Ver.), v. 14, v. 39. xii. 38, xvii. 2, (xxiii. 2). c (Colb.), v. 14, v. 39, xii. 14, (xii. 38), xvii. 2, (xxi. 27), (xxiii. 2), (xxiii. 2). e (Pal.), v. 39, (xii. 38), xvi. 12, (xxi. 27), xxiii. 2, (xxiii. 2). ff (Corb.), v. 14, v. 39, (xii. 38), xvii. 2, (xxi. 27), (xxiii. 2). g'2 (Germ.), x. 25. i (Vind.), (xii. 38), xvi. 12, xvii. 2, xxiii. 2. l (Rhed.), v. 14, xvi. 12, xvii. 2, xiii. 2. Syr. Crt., xii. 14, (xii. 38), xxi. 18, (xxi. 27). It is worth noticing that xxii. 19 b, 20 (which is omitted in D, a, b, c, ff, i, l) appears to have been found in Marcion's Gospel, as in the Vulgate, c, and f (see Rönsch, p. 239). [Greek: apo tou mnaemeiou] in xxiv. 9 is also found (Rönsch, p. 246), though omitted by D, a, b, c, e, ff, l. There is no evidence to show whether the additions in ix. 55, xxiii. 34, and xxii. 43, 44 were present in Marcion's Gospel or not. It will be observed that the readings given above have all what is called a 'Western' character. The Curetonian Syriac is well known to have Western affinities [Endnote 233:1]. Codd. a, b, c, and the fragment of i which extends from Luke x. 6 to xxiii. 10, represent the most primitive type of the Old Latin version; e, ff, and I give a more mixed text. As we should expect, the revised Latin text of Cod. f has no representation in Marcion's Gospel [Endnote 233:2]. These textual phenomena are highly interesting, but at the same time an exact analysis of them is difficult. No simple hypothesis will account for them. There can be no doubt that Marcion's readings are, in the technical sense, false; they are a deviation from the type of the pure and unadulterated text. At a certain point, evidently of the remotest antiquity, in the history of transcription, there was a branching off which gave rise to those varieties of reading which, though they are not confined to Western manuscripts, still, from their preponderance in these, are called by the general name of 'Western.' But when we come to consider the relations among those Western documents themselves, no regular descent or filiation seems traceable. Certain broad lines indeed we can mark off as between the earlier and later forms of the Old Latin, though even here the outline is in places confused; but at what point are we to insert that most remarkable document of antiquity, the Curetonian Syriac? For instance, there are cases (e.g. xvii. 2, xxiii. 2) where Marcion and the Old Latin are opposed to the Old Syriac, where the latter has undoubtedly preserved the correct reading. To judge from these alone, we should naturally conclude that the Syriac was simply an older and purer type than Marcion's Gospel and the Latin. But then again, on the other hand, there are cases (such as the omission of xxi. 18) where Marcion and the Syriac are combined, and the Old Latin adheres to the truer type. This will tend to show that, even at that early period, there must have been some comparison and correction--a _con_vergence as well as a _di_vergence-- of manuscripts, and not always a mere reproduction of the particular copy which the scribe had before him; at the same time it will also show that Marcion's Gospel, so far from being an original document, has behind it a deep historical background, and stands at the head of a series of copies which have already passed through a number of hands, and been exposed to a proportionate amount of corruption. Our author is inclined to lay stress upon the 'slow multiplication and dissemination of MSS.' Perhaps he may somewhat exaggerate this, as antiquarians give us a surprising account of the case and rapidity with which books were produced by the aid of slave-labour [Endnote 235:1]. But even at Rome the publishing trade upon this large scale was a novelty dating back no further than to Atticus, the friend of Cicero, and we should naturally expect that among the Christians--a poor and widely scattered body, whose tenets would cut them off from the use of such public machinery--the multiplication of MSS. would be slower and more attended with difficulty. But the slower it was the more certainly do such phenomena as these of Marcion's text throw back the origin of the prototype from which that text was derived. In the year 140 A.D. Marcion possesses a Gospel which is already in an advanced stage of transcription--which has not only undergone those changes which in some regions the text underwent before it was translated into Latin, but has undergone other changes besides. Some of its peculiarities are not those of the earliest form of the Latin version, but of that version in what may be called its second stage (e.g. xvi. 12). It has also affinities to another version kindred to the Latin and occupying a similar place to the Old Latin among the Churches of Syria. These circumstances together point to an antiquity fully as great as any that an orthodox critic would claim. It should not be thought that because such indications are indirect they are therefore any the less certain. There is perhaps hardly a single uncanonical Christian document that is admittedly and indubitably older than Marcion; so that direct evidence there is naturally none. But neither is there any direct evidence for the antiquity of man or of the earth. The geologist judges by the fossils which he finds embedded in the strata as relics of an extinct age; so here, in the Gospel of Marcion, do we find relics which to the initiated eye carry with them their own story. Nor, on the other hand, can it rightly be argued that because the history of these remains is not wholly to be recovered, therefore no inference from them is possible. In the earlier stages of a science like palaeontology it might have been argued in just the same way that the difficulties and confusion in the classification invalidated the science along with its one main inference altogether. Yet we can see that such an argument would have been mistaken. There will probably be some points in every science which will never be cleared up to the end of time. The affirmation of the antiquity of Marcion's Gospel rests upon the simple axiom that every event must have a cause, and that in order to produce complicated phenomena the interaction of complicated causes is necessary. Such an assumption involves time, and I think it is a safe proposition to assert that, in order to bring the text of Marcion's Gospel into the state in which we find it, there must have been a long previous history, and the manuscripts through which it was conveyed must have parted far from the parent stem. The only way in which the inference drawn from the text of Marcion's Gospel can be really met would be by showing that the text of the Latin and Syriac translations is older and more original than that which is universally adopted by text-critics. I should hardly suppose that the author of 'Supernatural Religion' will be prepared to maintain this. If he does, the subject can then be argued. In the meantime, these two arguments, the literary and the textual--for the others are but subsidiary--must, I think, be held to prove the high antiquity of our present Gospel. CHAPTER IX. TATIAN--DIONYSIUS OF CORINTH. Tatian was a teacher of rhetoric, an Assyrian by birth, who was converted to Christianity by Justin Martyr, but after his death fell into heresy, leaning towards the Valentinian Gnosticism, and combining with this an extreme asceticism. The death of Justin is clearly the pivot on which his date will hinge. If we are to accept the conclusions of Mr. Hort this will have occurred in the year 148 A.D.; according to Volkmar it would fall not before 155 A.D., and in the ordinary view as late as 163- 165 A.D. [Endnote 238:1] The beginning of Tatian's literary activity will follow accordingly. Tatian's first work of importance, an 'Address to Greeks,' which is still extant, was written soon after the death of Justin. It contains no references to the Synoptic Gospels upon which stress can be laid. An allusion to Matth. vi. 19 in the Stromateis of Clement [Endnote 238:2] has been attributed to Tatian, but I hardly know for what reason. It is introduced simply by [Greek: tis (biazetai tis legon)], but there were other Encratites besides Tatian, and the very fact that he has been mentioned by name twice before in the chapter makes it the less likely that he should be introduced so vaguely. The chief interest however in regard to Tatian centres in his so- called 'Diatessaron,' which is usually supposed to have been a harmony of the four Gospels. Eusebius mentions this in the following terms: 'Tatian however, their former leader, put together, I know not how, a sort of patchwork or combination of the Gospels and called it the "Diatessaron," which is still current with some.' [Endnote 239:1] I am rather surprised to see that Credner, who is followed by the author of 'Supernatural Religion,' argues from this that Eusebius had not seen the work in question [Endnote 239:2]. This inference is not by any means conveyed by the Greek. [Greek: Ouk oid' hopos] (thus introduced) is an idiomatic phrase referring to the principle on which the harmony was constructed, and might well be paraphrased 'a curious sort of patchwork or dovetailing,' 'a not very intelligible dovetailing,' &c. Standing in the position it does, the phrase can hardly mean anything else. Besides it is not likely that Eusebius, an eager collector and reader of books, with the run of Pamphilus' library, should not have been acquainted with a work that he says himself was current in more quarters than one. Eusebius, it will be observed, is quite explicit in his statement. He says that the Diatessaron was a harmony of the Gospels, i.e. (in his sense) of our present Gospels, and that Tatian gave the name of Diatessaron to his work himself. We do not know upon what these statements rest, but there ought to be some valid reason before we dismiss them entirely. Epiphanius writes that 'Tatian is said to have composed the Diatessaron Gospel which some call the "Gospel according to the Hebrews"' [Endnote 240:1]. And Theodoret tells us that 'Tatian also composed the Gospel which is called the Diatessaron, cutting out the genealogies and all that shows the Lord to have been born of the seed of David according to the flesh.' 'This,' he adds, 'was used not only by his own party, but also by those who followed the teaching of the Apostles, as they had not perceived the mischievous design of the composition, but in their simplicity made use of the book on account of its conciseness.' Theodoret found more than two hundred copies in the churches of his diocese (Cyrrhus in Syria), which he removed and replaced with the works of the four Evangelists [Endnote 240:2]. Victor of Capua in the sixth century speaks of Tatian's work as a 'Diapente' rather than a 'Diatessaron' [Endnote 240:3]. If we are to believe the Syrian writer Bar-Salibi in the twelfth century, Ephrem Syrus commented on Tatian's Diatessaron, and it began with the opening words of St. John. This statement however is referred by Gregory Bar-Hebraeus not to the Harmony of Tatian, but to one by Ammonius made in the third century [Endnote 241:1]. Here there is clearly a good deal of confusion. But now we come to the question, was Tatian's work really a Harmony of our four Gospels? The strongest presumption that it was is derived from Irenaeus. Irenaeus, it is well known, speaks of the four Gospels with absolute decision, as if it were a law of nature that their number must be four, neither more nor less [Endnote 241:2], and his four Gospels were certainly the same as our own. But Tatian wrote within a comparatively short interval of Irenaeus. It is sufficiently clear that Irenaeus held his opinion at the very time that Tatian wrote, though it was not published until later. Here then we have a coincidence which makes it difficult to think that Tatian's four Gospels were different from ours. The theory that finds favour with Credner [Endnote 241:3] and his followers, including the author of 'Supernatural Religion,' is that Tatian's Gospel was the same as that used by Justin. I am myself not inclined to think this theory improbable; it would have been still less so, if Tatian had been the master and Justin the pupil [Endnote 241:4]. We have seen that the phenomena of Justin's evangelical quotations are as well met by the hypothesis that he made use of a Harmony as by any other. But that Harmony, as we have also seen, included at least our three Synoptics. The evidence (which we shall consider presently) for the use of the fourth Gospel by Tatian is so strong as to make it improbable that that work was not included in the Diatessaron. The fifth work, alluded to by Victor of Capua, may possibly have been the Gospel according to the Hebrews. 2. Just as the interest of Tatian turns upon the interpretation to be put upon a single term 'Diatessaron,' so the interest of Dionysius of Corinth depends upon what we are to understand by his phrase 'the Scriptures of the Lord.' In a fragment, preserved by Eusebius, of an epistle addressed to Soter Bishop of Rome (168-176 A.D.) and the Roman Church, Dionysius complains that his letters had been tampered with. 'As brethren pressed me to write letters I wrote them. And these the apostles of the devil have filled with tares, taking away some things and adding others, for whom the woe is prepared. It is not wonderful, then, if some have ventured to tamper with the Scriptures of the Lord when they have laid their plots against writings that have no such claims as they' [Endnote 242:1]. It must needs be a straining of language to make the Scriptures here refer, as the author of 'Supernatural Religion' seems to do, to the Old Testament. It is true that Justin lays great stress upon type and prophecy as pointing to Christ, but there is a considerable step between this and calling the whole of the Old Testament 'Scriptures of the Lord.' On the other hand, we can hardly think that Dionysius refers to a complete collection of writings like the New Testament. It seems most natural to suppose that he is speaking of Gospels--possibly not the canonical alone, and yet, with Irenaeus in our mind's eye, we shall say probably to them. There is the further reason for this application of the words that Dionysius is known to have written against Marcion--'he defended the canon of the truth' [Endnote 243:1], Eusebius says-- and such 'tampering' as he describes was precisely what Marcion had been guilty of. * * * * * The reader will judge for himself what is the weight of the kind of evidence produced in this chapter. I give a chapter to it because the author of 'Supernatural Religion' has done the same. Doubtless it is not the sort of evidence that would bear pressing in a court of English law, but in a question of balanced probabilities it has I think a decided leaning to one side, and that the side opposed to the conclusions of 'Supernatural Religion.' CHAPTER X. MELITO--APOLLINARIS--ATHENAGORAS--THE EPISTLE OF VIENNE AND LYONS. We pass on, still in a region of fragments--'waifs and strays' of the literature of the second century--and of partial and indirect (though on that account not necessarily less important) indications. In Melito of Sardis (c. 176 A.D) it is interesting to notice the first appearance of a phrase that was destined later to occupy a conspicuous position. Writing to his friend Onesimus, who had frequently asked for selections from the Law and the Prophets bearing upon the Saviour, and generally for information respecting the number and order of 'the Old Books,' Melito says 'that he had gone to the East and reached the spot where the preaching had been delivered and the acts done, and that having learnt accurately the books of the Old Covenant (or Testament) he had sent a list of them'--which is subjoined [Endnote 244:1]. Melito uses the word which became established as the title used to distinguish the elder Scriptures from the younger--the Old Covenant or Testament ([Greek: hae palaia diathaekae]); and it is argued from this that he implies the existence of a 'definite New Testament, a written antitype to 'the Old' [Endnote 245:1] The inference however seems to be somewhat in excess of what can be legitimately drawn. By [Greek: palaia diathaekae] is meant rather the subject or contents of the books than the books themselves. It is the system of things, the dispensation accomplished 'in heavenly places,' to which the books belong, not the actual collected volume. The parallel of 2 Cor. iii. 14 ([Greek: epi tae anagnosei taes palaias diathaekaes]), which is ably pointed to in 'Supernatural Religion' [Endnote 245:2], is too close to allow the inference of a written New Testament. And yet, though the word has not actually acquired this meaning, it was in process of acquiring it, and had already gone some way to acquire it. The books were already there, and, as we see from Irenaeus, critical collections of them had already begun to be made. Within thirty years of the time when Melito is writing Tertullian uses the phrase Novum Testamentum precisely in our modern sense, intimating that it had then become the current designation [Endnote 245:3]. This being the case we cannot wonder that there should be a certain reflex hint of such a sense in the words of Melito. The tract 'On Faith,' published in Syriac by Dr. Cureton and attributed to Melito, is not sufficiently authenticated to have value as evidence. It should be noted that Melito's fragments contain nothing especially on the Gospels. 2. Some time between 176-180 A.D. Claudius Apollinaris, Bishop of Hierapolis, addressed to the Emperor Marcus Aurelius an apology of which rather more than three lines have come down to us. A more important fragment however is assigned to this writer in the Paschal Chronicle, a work of the seventh century. Here it is said that 'Apollinaris, the most holy bishop of Hierapolis in Asia, who lived near the times of the Apostles, in his book about Easter, taught much the same, saying thus: "There are some who through ignorance wrangle about these matters, in a pardonable manner; for ignorance does not admit of blame but rather needs instruction. And they say that on the 14th the Lord ate the lamb with His disciples, and that on the great day of unleavened bread He himself suffered; and they relate that this is in their view the statement of Matthew. Whence their opinion is in conflict with the law, and according to them the Gospels are made to be at variance"' [Endnote 246:1]. This variance or disagreement in the Gospels evidently has reference to the apparent discrepancy between the Synoptics, especially St. Matthew and St. John, the former treating the Last Supper as the Paschal meal, the latter placing it before the Feast of the Passover and making the Crucifixion coincide with the slaughter of the Paschal lamb. Apollinaris would thus seem to recognise both the first and the fourth Gospels as authoritative. Is this fragment of Apollinaris genuine? It is alleged against it [Endnote 247:1] (1) that Eusebius was ignorant of any such work on Easter, and that there is no mention of it in such notices of Apollinaris and his writings as have come down to us from Theodoret, Jerome, and Photius. There are some good remarks on this point by Routh (who is quoted in 'Supernatural Religion' _apparently_ as adverse to the genuineness of the fragments). He says: 'There seems to me to be nothing in these extracts to compel us to deny the authorship of Apollinaris. Nor must we refuse credit to the author of the Preface [to the Paschal Chronicle] any more than to other writers of the same times on whose testimony many books of the ancients have been received, although not mentioned by Eusebius or any other of his contemporaries; especially as Eusebius declares below that it was only some select books that had come to his hands out of many that Apollinaris had written' [Endnote 247:2]. It is objected (2) that Apollinaris is not likely to have spoken of a controversy in which the whole Asiatic Church was engaged as the opinion of a 'few ignorant wranglers' A fair objection, if he was really speaking of such a controversy. But the great issue between the Churches of Asia and that of Rome was whether the Paschal festival should be kept, according to the Jewish custom, always on the fourteenth day of the month Nisan, or whether it should be kept on the Friday after the Paschal full moon, on whatever day of the month it might fall. The fragment appears rather to allude to some local dispute as to the day on which the Lord suffered. To go thoroughly into this question would involve us in all the mazes of the so-called Paschal controversy, and in the end a precise and certain conclusion would probably be impossible. So far as I am aware, all the writers who have entered into the discussion start with assuming the genuineness of the Apollinarian fragment. There remains however the fact that it rests only upon the attestation of a writer of the seventh century, who may possibly be wrong, but, if so, has been led into his error not wilfully but by accident. No reason can be alleged for the forging or purposely false ascription of a fragment like this, and it bears the stamp of good faith in that it asks indulgence for opponents instead of censure. We may perhaps safely accept the fragment with some, not large, deduction from its weight. 3. An instance of the precariousness of the argument from silence would be supplied by the writer who comes next under review-- Athenagoras. No mention whatever is made of Athenagoras either by Eusebius or Jerome, though he appears to have been an author of a certain importance, two of whose works, an Apology addressed to Marcus Aurelius and Commodus and a treatise on the Resurrection, are still extant. The genuineness of neither of these works is doubted. The Apology, which may be dated about 177 A.D., contains a few references to our Lord's discourses, but not such as can have any great weight as evidence. The first that is usually given, a parallel to Matt. v. 39, 40 (good for evil), is introduced in such a way as to show that the author intends only to give the sense and not the words. The same may be said of another sentence that is compared with Mark x. 6 [Endnote 249:1]:-- _Athenagoras, Leg. pro Christ. 33._ [Greek: Hoti en archae ho Theos hena andra eplase kai mian gunaika.] _Mark x. 6_ [Greek: Apo de archaes ktiseos arsen kai thaelu epoiaesen autous ho Theos.] All that can be said is that the thought here appears to have been suggested by the Gospel--and that not quite immediately. A much closer--and indeed, we can hardly doubt, a real--parallel is presented by a longer passage:-- _Athenagoras, Leg. pro Christ. 11._ What then are the precepts in which we are instructed? I say unto you: Love your enemies, bless them that curse, pray for them that persecute you; that ye may become the sons of your Father which is in heaven: who maketh his sun to rise on the evil and the good, and sendeth rain on the just and the unjust. [Greek: Tines oun haemon hoi logoi, hois entrephometha; lego humin, agapate tous echthrous humon, eulogeite tous kataromenous, proseuchesthe huper ton diokonton humas, hopos genaesthe huioi tou patros humon tou en ouranois, hos ton haelion autou anatellei epi ponaerous kai agathous kai brechei epi dikaious kai adikous.] _Matt_. v. 44, 45. I say unto you: Love your enemies [bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you], and pray for them that persecute you; that ye may become the sons of your Father which is in heaven: for he maketh his sun to rise on the evil and the good, and sendeth rain on the just and the unjust. [Greek: ego de lego humin, agapate tous echthrous humon [eulogeite tous kataromenous humas, kalos poiete tous misountas humas], proseuchesthe huper ton diokonton humas hopos genaesthe huioi tou patros humon tou en ouranois, hoti ton haelion autou anatellei epi ponaerous kai agathous kai brechei epi dikaious kai adikous.] The bracketed clauses in the text of St. Matthew are both omitted and inserted by a large body of authorities, but, as it is rightly remarked in 'Supernatural Religion,' they are always either both omitted or both inserted; we must therefore believe that the omission and insertion of one only by Athenagoras is without manuscript precedent. Otherwise the exactness of the parallel is great; and it is thrown the more into relief when we compare the corresponding passage in St. Luke. The quotation is completed in the next chapter of Athenagoras' work:-- _Athenagoras, Leg. pro Christ._ 12. For if ye love, he says, them which love and lend to them which lend to you, what reward shall ye have? [Greek: Ean gar agapate, phaesin, tous agapontas, kai daineizete tois daneizousin humin, tina misthon hexete;] _Matt._ v. 46. For if ye shall love them which love you, what reward have ye? [Greek: Ean gar agapaesaete tous agapontas humas tina misthon echete;] Here the middle clause in the quotation appears to be a reminiscence of St. Luke vi. 34 ([Greek: ean danisaete par' hon elpizete labein]). Justin also, it should be noted, has [Greek: agapate] (but [Greek: ei agapate]) for [Greek: agapaesaete]. If this passage had stood alone, taking into account the variations and the even run and balance of the language we might have thought perhaps that Athenagoras had had before him a different version. Yet the [Greek: tina misthon], compared with the [Greek: poia charis] of St. Luke and [Greek: ti kainon poieite] of Justin, would cause misgivings, and greater run and balance is precisely what would result from 'unconscious cerebration.' Two more references are pointed out to Matt. v. 28 and Matt. v. 32, one with slight, the other with medium, variation, which leave the question very much in the same position. We ought not to omit to notice that Athenagoras quotes one uncanonical saying, introducing it with the phrase [Greek: palin haemin legontos tou logou]. I am not at all clear that this is not merely one of the 'precepts' [Greek: oi logoi] alluded to above. At any rate it is exceedingly doubtful that the Logos is here personified. It seems rather parallel to the [Greek: ho logos edaelou] of Justin (Dial. c. Tryph. 129). Considering the date at which he wrote I have little doubt that Athenagoras is actually quoting from the Synoptics, but he cannot, on the whole, be regarded as a very powerful witness for them. 4. After the cruel persecution from which the Churches of Vienne and Lyons had suffered in the year 177 A.D., a letter was written in their name, containing an account of what had happened, which Lardner describes as 'the finest thing of the kind in all antiquity' [Endnote 251:1]. This letter, which was addressed to the Churches of Asia and Phrygia, contained several quotations from the New Testament, and among them one that is evidently from St. Luke's Gospel. It is said of one of the martyrs, Vettius Epagathus, that his manner of life was so strict that, young as he was, he could claim a share in the testimony borne to the more aged Zacharias. Indeed he had _walked in all the commandments and ordinances of the Lord blameless_, and in the service of his neighbour untiring, &c. [Endnote 252:1] The italicised words are a verbatim reproduction of Luke i. 6. There is an ambiguity in the words [Greek: sunexisousthai tae tou presbuterou Zachariou marturia]. The genitive after [Greek: marturia] may be either subjective or objective--'the testimony borne _by_' or 'the testimony borne _to_ or _of_' the aged Zacharias. I have little doubt that the translation given above is the right one. It has the authority of Lardner ('equalled the character of') and Routh ('Zachariae senioris elogio aequaretur'), and seems to be imperatively required by the context. The eulogy passed upon Vettius Epagathus is justified by the uniform strictness of his daily life (he has walked in _all_ the commandments &c.), not by the single act of his constancy in death. The author of 'Supernatural Religion,' apparently following Hilgenfeld [Endnote 252:2], adopts the other translation, and bases on it an argument that the allusion is to the _martyrdom_ of Zacharias, and therefore not to our third Gospel in which no mention of that martyrdom is contained. On the other hand, we are reminded that the narrative of the martyrdom of Zacharias enters into the Protevangelium of James. That apocryphal Gospel however contains nothing approaching to the words which coincide exactly with the text of St. Luke. Even if there had been a greater doubt than there is as to the application of [Greek: marturia], it would be difficult to resist the conclusion that the Synoptic Gospel is being quoted. The words occur in the most peculiar and distinctive portion of the Gospel; and the correspondence is so exact and the phrase itself so striking as not to admit of any other source. The order, the choice of words, the construction, even to the use of the nominative [Greek: ámemptos] where we might very well have had the adverb [Greek: amémptôs], all point the same way. These fine edges of the quotation, so to speak, must needs have been rubbed off in the course of transmission through several documents. But there is not a trace of any other document that contained such a remark upon the character of Zacharias. This instance of a Synoptic quotation may, I think, safely be depended upon. Another allusion, a little lower down in the Epistle, which speaks of the same Vettius Epagathus as 'having in himself the Paraclete [there is a play on the use of the word [Greek: paraklaetos] just before], the Spirit, more abundantly than Zacharias,' though in exaggerated and bad taste, probably has reference to Luke i. 67, 'And Zacharias his father was filled with the Holy Ghost,' &c. [Footnote: Mr. Mason calls my attention to [Greek: enduma numphikon] in § 13, and also to the misleading statement in _S.R._ ii. p. 201 that 'no writing of the New Testament is directly referred to.' I should perhaps have more fault to find with the sentence on p. 204, 'It follows clearly and few venture to doubt,' &c. I have assumed however for some time that the reader will be on his guard against expressions such as these.] CHAPTER XI. PTOLEMAEUS AND HERACLEON--CELSUS--THE MURATORIAN FRAGMENT. We are now very near emerging into open daylight; but there are three items in the evidence which lie upon the border of the debateable ground, and as questions have been raised about these it may be well for us to discuss them. We have already had occasion to speak of the two Gnostics Ptolemaeus and Heracleon. It is necessary, in the first place, to define the date of their evidence with greater precision, and, in the second, to consider its bearing. Let us then, in attempting to do this, dismiss all secondary and precarious matter; such as (1) the argument drawn by Tischendorf [Endnote 254:1] from the order in which the names of the disciples of Valentinus are mentioned and from an impossible statement of Epiphanius which seems to make Heracleon older than Cerdon, and (2) the argument that we find in Volkmar and 'Supernatural Religion' [Endnote 254:2] from the use of the present tense by Hippolytus, as if the two writers, Ptolemaeus and Heracleon, were contemporaries of his own in 225-235 A.D. Hippolytus does indeed say, speaking of a division in the school of Valentinus, 'Those who are of Italy, of whom is Heracleon and Ptolemaeus, say' &c. But there is no reason why there should not be a kind of historic present, just as we might say, 'The Atomists, of whom are Leucippus and Democritus, hold' &c., or 'St. Peter says this, St. Paul says that.' The account of such presents would seem to be that the writer speaks as if quoting from a book that he has actually before him. It is not impossible that Heracleon and Ptolemaeus may have been still living at the time when Hippolytus wrote, but this cannot be inferred simply from the tense of the verb. Surer data are supplied by Irenaeus. Irenaeus mentions Ptolemaeus several times in his first and second books, and on one occasion he couples with his the name of Heracleon. But to what date does this evidence of Irenaeus refer? At what time was Irenaeus himself writing. We have seen that the _terminus ad quem_, at least for the first three books, is supplied by the death of Eleutherus (c. A.D. 190). On the other hand, the third book at least was written after the publication of the Greek version of the Old Testament by Theodotion, which Epiphanius tells us appeared in the reign of Commodus (180-190 A.D.). A still more precise date is given to Theodotion's work in the Paschal Chronicle, which places it under the Consuls Marcellus (Massuet would read 'Marullus') and Aelian in the year 184 A.D. [Endnote 255:1] This last statement is worth very little, and it is indeed disputed whether Theodotion's version can have appeared so late as this. At any rate we must assume that it was in the hands of Irenaeus about 185 A.D., and it will be not before this that the third book of the work 'Against Heresies' was written. It will perhaps sufficiently satisfy all parties if we suppose that Irenaeus was engaged in writing his first three books between the years 182-188 A.D. But the name of Ptolemaeus is mentioned very near the beginning of the Preface; so that Irenaeus would be committing to paper the statement of his acquaintance with Ptolemaeus as early as 182 A.D. This is however the last link in the chain. Let us trace it a little further backwards. Irenaeus' acquaintance with Ptolemaeus can hardly have been a fact of yesterday at the time when he wrote. Ptolemaeus represented the 'Italian' branch of the Valentinian school, and therefore it seems a fair supposition that Irenaeus would come in contact with him during his visit to Rome in 178 A.D.; and the four years from that date to 182 A.D. can hardly be otherwise than a short period to allow for the necessary intimacy with his teaching to have been formed. But we are carried back one step further still. It is not only Ptolemaeus but Ptolemaeus _and his party_ ([Greek: hoi peri Ptolemaion]) [Endnote 256:1]. There has been time for Ptolemaeus to found a school within a school of his own; and his school has already begun to express its opinions, either collectively or through its individual members. In this way the real date of Ptolemaeus seems still to recede, but I will not endeavour any further to put a numerical value upon it which might be thought to be prejudiced. It will be best for the reader to fill up the blank according to his own judgment. Heracleon will to a certain extent go with Ptolemaeus, with whom he is persistently coupled, though, as he is only mentioned once by Irenaeus, the data concerning him are less precise. They are however supplemented by an allusion in the fourth book of the Stromateis of Clement of Alexandria (which appears to have been written in the last decade of the century) to Heracleon as one of the chief of the school of Valentinus [Endnote 257:1], and perhaps also by a statement of Origen to the effect that Heracleon was said to be a [Greek: gnorimos] of Valentinus himself [Endnote 257:2]. The meaning of the latter term is questioned, and it is certainly true that it may stand for pupil or scholar, as Elisha was to Elijah or as the Apostles were to their Master; but that it could possibly be applied to two persons who never came into personal contact must be, I cannot but think, very doubtful. This then, if true, would throw back Heracleon some little way even beyond 160 A.D. From the passage in the Stromateis we gather that Heracleon, if he did not (as is usually inferred) write a commentary, yet wrote an isolated exposition of a portion of St. Luke's Gospel. In the same way we learn from Origen that he wrote a commentary upon St. John. We shall probably not be wrong in referring many of the Valentinian quotations given by Irenaeus to Ptolemaeus and Heracleon. By the first writer we also have extant an Epistle to a disciple called Flora, which has been preserved by Epiphanius. This Epistle, which there is no reason to doubt, contains unequivocal references to our first Gospel. _Epistle to Flora. Epiph. Haer._ 217 A. [Greek: oikia gar ae polis meristheisa eph' heautaen hoti mae dunatai staenai [ho sotaer haemon apephaenato].] _Ibid._ 217 D. [Greek: [ephae autois hoti] Mousaes pros taen sklaerokardian humon epetrepse to apoluein taen gunaika autou. Ap' archaes gar ou gegonen houtos. Theos gar (phaesi) sunezeuxe tautaen taen suzugian kai ho sunezeuxen ho kurios, anthropos (ephae) mae chorizeto.] _Ibid. 218 D. [Greek: ho gar Theos (phaesin) eipe tima ton patera sou kai taen maetera sou, hina eu soi genaetai; humeis de (phaesin) eiraekate (tois presbuterois legon), doron to Theo ho ean ophelaethaes ex emou, kai aekurosate ton nomon tou Theou, dia taen paradosin humon ton presbuteron. Touto de Haesaias exephonaesen eipon; ho laos houtos tois cheilesi me tima hae de kardia auton porro apechei ap' emou. Mataen de sebontai me, didaskontes didaskalias, entalmata anthropon.] _Ibid._ 220 D, 221 A. [Greek: to gar, Ophthalmon anti ophthalmou kai odonta anti odontos ... ego gar lego humin mae antistaenai holos to ponaero alla ean tis se rhapisae strepson auto kai taen allaen siagona.] _Matt._ xii. 25 (_Mark_ iii. 25, _Luke_ xi. 17). [Greek: pasa polis ae oikia meristheisa kath' heautaes ou stathaesetai.] _Matt._ xix. 8, 6 (_Mark_ x. 5, 6, 9). [Greek: legei autois; Hoti Mousaes pros taen sklaerokardian humon epetrepsen humin apolusai tas gunaikas humon' ap' archaes de ou gegonen houtos. ... ho oun ho theos sunezeuxen anthropos mae chorizeto.] _Matt._ xv. 4-8 (_Mark_ vii. 10, 11, 6, 9). [Greek: ho gar theos eneteilato legon, Tima ton patera kai taen maetera ... humeis de legete; hos an eipae to patri ae tae maetri; Doron ho ean ex emou ophelaethaes,... kai aekurosate ton nomon tou Theou dia taen paradosin humon. Hupokritai, kalos eprophaeteusen peri humon Haesaias legon; Ho laos houtos tois cheilesin me tima, hae de kardia auton porro apechei ap' emou; mataen de sebontai me didaskontes didaskalias entalmata anthropon.] _Matt_. v. 38, 39 (_Luke_ vi. 29). [Greek: aekousate oti erraethae, Ophthalmon anti ophthalmou kai odonta anti odontos ego de lego hymin mae antistaenai to ponaero all hostis se rapizei eis taen dexian siagona sou, strephon auto kai taen allaen.] Some doubt indeed appears to be entertained by the author of 'Supernatural Religion' [Endnote 259:1] as to whether these quotations are really taken from the first Synoptic; but it would hardly have arisen if he had made a more special study of the phenomena of patristic quotation. If he had done this, I do not think there would have been any question on the subject. A comparison of the other Synoptic parallels, and of the Septuagint in the case of the quotation from Isaiah, will make the agreement with the Matthaean text still more conspicuous. It is instructive to notice the reproduction of the most characteristic features of this text--[Greek: polis, meristheisa] ([Greek: ean meristhae] Mark, [Greek: diameristheisa] Luke), [Greek: hoti Mousaes, epetrepsen apolu[sai] t[as] gunaik[as], ou gegonen oitos, aekurosate .. dia taen p., ophthalmon ... odontos, antistaenai to ponaero, strepson], and the order and cast of sentence in all the quotations. The first quotation, with [Greek: eph eautaen] and [Greek: dunatai staenai], which may be compared (though, from the context, somewhat doubtfully) with Mark, presents, I believe, the only trace of the influence of any other text. To what period in the life of Ptolemaeus this Epistle to Flora may have belonged we have no means of knowing; but it is unlikely that the writer should have used one set of documents at one part of his life and another set at another. Viewed along with so much confirmatory matter in the account of the Valentinians by Irenaeus, the evidence may be taken as that of Ptolemaeus himself rather than of this single letter. 2. The question in regard to Celsus, whose attacks upon Christianity called forth such an elaborate reply from Origen, is chiefly one of date. To go into this at once adequately and independently would need a much longer investigation than can be admitted into the present work. The subject has quite recently been treated in a monograph by the well-known writer Dr. Keim [Endnote 260:1], and, as there will be in this case no suspicion of partiality, I shall content myself with stating Dr. Keim's conclusions. Origen himself, Dr. Keim thinks, was writing under the Emperor Philip about A.D. 248. But he regards his opponent Celsus, not as a contemporary, but as belonging to a past age (Contra Celsum, i. 8, vii. 11), and his work as nothing recent, but rather as having obtained a certain celebrity in heathen literature (v. 3). For all this it had to be disinterred, as it were, and that not without difficulty, by a Christian (viii. 76). Exact and certain knowledge however about Celsus Origen did not possess. He leans to the opinion that his opponent was an Epicurean of that name who lived 'under Hadrian and later' (i. 8). This Epicurean had also written several books against Magic (i. 68). Now it is known that there was a Celsus, a friend of Lucian, who had also written against Magic, and to whom Lucian dedicated his 'Pseudomantis, or Alexander of Abonoteichos.' It was clearly obvious to identify the two persons, and there was much to be said in favour of the identification. But there was this difficulty. Origen indeed speaks of the Celsus to whom he is replying as an Epicurean, and here and there Epicurean opinions are expressed in the fragments of the original work that Origen has preserved. But Origen himself was somewhat puzzled to find that the main principles of the author were rather Platonic or Neo-platonic than Epicurean, and this observation has been confirmed by modern enquiry. The Celsus of Origen is in reality a Platonist. It still being acknowledged that the friend of Lucian was an Epicurean, this discovery seemed fatal to the supposition that he was the author of the work against the Christians. Accordingly there was a tendency among critics, though not quite a unanimous tendency, to separate again the two personalities which had been united. At this point Dr. Keim comes upon the scene, and he asks the question, Was Lucian's friend really an Epicurean? Lucian nowhere says so in plain words, but it was taken as a _primâ facie_ inference from some of the language used by him. For instance, he describes the Platonists as being on good terms with this very Alexander of Abonoteichos whom he is ridiculing and exposing. He appeals to Celsus to say whether a certain work of Epicurus is not his finest. He says that his friend will be pleased to know that one of his objects in writing is to see justice done to Epicurus. All these expressions Dr. Keim thinks may be explained as the quiet playful irony that was natural to Lucian, and from other indications in the work he concludes that Lucian's Celsus may well have been a Platonist, though not a bigoted one, just as Lucian himself was not in any strict and narrow sense an Epicurean. When once the possibility of the identification is conceded, there are, as Dr. Keim urges, strong reasons for its adoption. The characters of the two owners of the name Celsus, so far as they can be judged from the work of Origen on the one hand and Lucian on the other, are the same. Both are distinguished for their opposition to magical arts. The Celsus of the Pseudomantis is a friend of Lucian, and it is precisely from a friend of Lucian that the 'Word of Truth' replied to by Origen might be supposed to have come. Lastly, time and place both support the identification. The Celsus of Lucian lived under Marcus Aurelius and Commodus, and Dr. Keim decides, after an elaborate examination of the internal evidence, that the Celsus of Origen wrote his work in the year 178 A.D., towards the close of the reign of Marcus Aurelius. Such is Dr. Keim's view. In the date assigned to the [Greek: Logos alaethaes] it does not differ materially from that of the large majority of critics. Grätz alone goes as far back as to the time of Hadrian. Hagenbach, Hasse, Tischendorf, and Friedländer fix upon the middle, Mosheim, Gieseler, Baur, and Engelhardt upon the second half, of the second century; while the following writers assume either generally the reign of Marcus Aurelius, or specially with Dr. Keim one of the two great persecutions--Spencer, Tillemont, Neander, Tzschirner, Jachmann, Bindemann, Lommatzsch, Hase, Redepenning, Zeller. The only two writers mentioned by Dr. Keim as contending for a later date are Ueberweg and Volkmar, 'who strangely misunderstands both Origen and Baur' [Endnote 263:1]. Volkmar is followed by the author of 'Supernatural Religion.' At whatever date Celsus wrote, it appears to be sufficiently clear that he knew and used all the four canonical Gospels [Endnote 263:2]. 3. The last document that need be discussed by us at present is the remarkable fragment which, from its discoverer and from its contents, bears the name of the Canon of Muratori [Endnote 263:3]. Whatever was the original title and whatever may have been the extent of the work from which it is taken, the portion of it that has come down to us is by far the most important of all the direct evidence for the Canon both of the Gospels and of the New Testament in general with which we have yet had to deal. It is indeed the first in which the conception of a Canon is quite unequivocally put forward. We have for the first time a definite list of the books received by the Church and a distinct separation made between these and those that are rejected. The fragment begins abruptly with the end of a sentence apparently relating to the composition of the Gospel according to St. Mark. Then follows 'in the third place the Gospel according to St. Luke,' of which some account is given. 'The fourth of the Gospels' is that of John, 'one of the disciples of the Lord.' A legend is related as to the origin of this Gospel. Then mention is made of the Acts, which are attributed to Luke. Then follow thirteen Epistles of St. Paul by name. Two Epistles professing to be addressed to the Laodiceans and Alexandrines are dismissed as forged in the interests of the heresy of Marcion. The Epistle of Jude and two that bear the superscription of John are admitted. Likewise the two Apocalypses of John and Peter. [No mention is made, it will be seen, of the Epistle to the Hebrews, of that of James, of I and II Peter, and of III John.] [Endnote 264:1] The Pastor of Hermas, a work of recent date, may be read but not published in the Church before the people, and cannot be included either in the number of the prophets or apostles. On the other hand nothing at all can be received of Arsinous, Valentinus, or Miltiades; neither the new Marcionite book of Psalms, which with Basilides and the Asian founder of the Cataphryges (or the founder of the Asian Cataphryges, i.e. Montanus) is rejected. The importance of this will be seen at a glance. The chief question is here again in regard to the date, which must be determined from the document itself. A sufficiently clear indication seems to be given in the language used respecting the Pastor of Hermas. This work is said to have been composed 'very lately in our times, Pius the brother of the writer occupying the episcopal chair of the Roman Church.' The episcopate of Pius is dated from 142-157 A.D., so that 157 A.D. may be taken as the starting-point from which we have to reckon the interval implied by the words 'very recently in our times' (nuperrime temporibus nostris). Taking these words in their natural sense, I should think that the furthest limit they would fairly admit of would be a generation, or say thirty years, after the death of Pius (for even in taking a date such as this we are obliged to assume that the Pastor was published only just before the death of that bishop). The most probable construction seems to be that the unknown author meant that the Pastor of Hermas was composed within his own memory. Volkmar is doubtless right in saying [Endnote 265:1] that he meant to distinguish the work in question from the writings of the Prophets and Apostles, but still the double use of the words 'nuperrime' and 'temporibus nostris' plainly indicate something more definite than merely 'our post-apostolic time.' If this had been the sense we should have had some such word as 'recentius' instead of 'nuperrime.' The argument of 'Supernatural Religion' [Endnote 265:2], that 'in supposing that the writer may have appropriately used the phrase thirty or forty years after the time of Pius so much licence is taken that there is absolutely no reason why a still greater interval may not be allowed,' is clearly playing fast and loose with language, and doing so for no good reason; for the only ground for assigning a later date is that the earlier one is inconvenient for the critic's theory. The other indications tally quite sufficiently with the date 170-190 A.D. Basilides, Valentinus, Marcion, the Marcionites, we know were active long before this period. The Montanists (who appear under the name by which they were generally known in the earlier writings, 'Cataphryges') were beginning to be notorious, and are mentioned in the letter of the Churches of Vienne and Lyons. Miltiades was a contemporary of Claudius Apollinaris who wrote against him [Endnote 266:1]. All the circumstances point to such a date as that of Irenaeus, and the conception of the Canon is very similar to that which we should gather from the great work 'Against Heresies.' If this does not agree with preconceived opinions as to what the state of the Canon ought to have been, it is the opinion that ought to be rectified accordingly, and not plain words explained away. I can see no sound objection to the date 170-180 A.D., but by adding ten years to this we shall reach the extreme limit admissible. I do not know whether it is necessary to refer to the objection from the absence of any mention of the first two Synoptic Gospels, through the mutilated state of the document. It is true that the inference that they were originally mentioned rests only 'upon conjecture' [Endnote 266:2], but it is the kind of conjecture that, taking all things into consideration--the extent to which the evidence of the fragment in other respects corresponds with the Catholic tradition, the state of the Canon in Irenaeus, the relation of the evidence for the first Gospel in particular to that for the others--can be reckoned at very little less than ninety-nine chances out of a hundred. To the same class belongs Dr. Donaldson's suggestion [Endnote 267:1] that the passage which contains the indication of date may be an interpolation. It is always possible that the particular passage that happens to be important in any document of this date may be an interpolation, but the chances that it really is so must be in any case very slight, and here there is no valid reason for suspecting interpolation. It does not at all follow, as Dr. Donaldson seems to think, that because a document is mutilated therefore it is more likely to be interpolated; for interpolation is the result of quite a different series of accidents. The interpolation, if it were such, could not well be accidental because it has no appearance of being a gloss; on the other hand, only far-fetched and improbable motives can be alleged for it as intentional. The full statement of the fragment in regard to St. Luke's Gospel is as follows. 'Luke the physician after the Ascension of Christ, having been taken into his company by Paul, wrote in his own name to the best of his judgment (ex opinione), and, though he had not himself seen the Lord in the flesh, so far as he could ascertain; accordingly he begins his narrative with the birth of John.' The greater part of this account appears to be taken simply from the Preface to the Gospel, which is supplemented by the tradition that St. Luke was a physician and also the author of the Acts. As evidence to those facts a document dating some hundred years after the composition of the Gospel is not of course very weighty; its real importance is as showing the authority which the Gospel at this date possessed in the Church. That authority cannot have been acquired in a day, but represents the culmination of a long and gradual movement. What we have to note is that the movement, some of the stages of which we have been tracing, has now definitely reached its culmination. In regard to the fourth Gospel the Muratorian fragment has a longer story to tell, but before we touch upon this, and before we proceed to draw together the threads of the previous enquiry, it will be well for us first to bring up the evidence for the fourth Gospel to the same date and position as that for the other three. This then will be the subject of the next chapter. CHAPTER XII. THE EXTERNAL EVIDENCE FOR THE FOURTH GOSPEL. The fourth Gospel was, upon any theory, written later than the others, and it is not clear that it was published as soon as it was written. Both tradition and the internal evidence of the concluding chapter seem to point to the existence of somewhat peculiar relations between the Evangelist and the presbyters of the Asian Church, which would make it not improbable that the Gospel was retained for some time by the latter within their own private circle before it was given to the Church at large. We have the express statement of Irenaeus [Endnote 269:1], who, if he was born as is commonly supposed at Smyrna about 140 A.D., must be a good authority, that the Apostle St. John lived on till the times of Trajan (98-117 A.D.). If so, it is very possible that the Gospel was not yet published, or barely published, when Clement of Rome wrote his Epistle to the Corinthians. Neither, considering its almost esoteric character and the slow rate at which such a work would travel at first, should we be very much surprised if it was not in the hands of Barnabas (probably in Alexandria) and Hermas (at Rome). In no case indeed could the silence of these two writers be of much moment, as in the Epistle of Barnabas the allusions to the New Testament literature are extremely few and slight, while in the Shepherd of Hermas there are no clear and certain references either to the Old Testament or the New Testament at all. And yet there is a lively controversy round these two names as to whether or not they contain evidence for the fourth Gospel, and that they do is maintained not only by apologists, but also by writers of quite unquestionable impartiality like Dr. Keim. Dr. Keim, it will be remembered, argues against the Johannean authorship of the Gospel, and yet on this particular point he seems to be almost an advocate for the side to which he is opposed. 'Volkmar,' he says [Endnote 270:1], 'has recently spoken of Barnabas as undeniably ignorant of the Logos-Gospel, and explained the early date assigned to his Epistle by Ewald and Weizsäcker and now also by Riggenbach as due to their perplexity at finding in it no trace of St. John. There is room for another opinion. However much it may be shown that Barnabas gives neither an incident nor a single sentence from the Gospel, that he is unacquainted with the conception of the Logos, that expressions like 'water and blood,' or the Old Testament types of Christ, and especially the serpent reared in the wilderness as an object of faith, are employed by him independently--for all this the deeper order of conceptions in the Epistle coincides in the gross or in detail so repeatedly with the Gospel that science must either assume a connection between them, or, if it leaves the problem unsolved, renounces its own calling. "The Son of God" was to be manifested in the flesh, manifested through suffering, to go to his glory through death and the Cross, to bring life and the immanent presence of the Godhead, such is here and there the leading idea. Existing before the foundation of the world, the Lord of the world, the sender of the prophets, the object of their prophecies, beheld even by Abraham, in the person of Moses himself typified as the only centre of Israel's hopes, and in so far already revealed and glorified in type before his incarnation, he was at last to appear, to dwell among us, to be seen, not as son of David but as Son of God, in the garment of the flesh, by those who could not even endure the light of this world's sun. So did he come; nay, so did he die to fulfil the promise, in the very act of his apparent defeat to dispense purification, pardon, life, to destroy death, to overcome the devil, to show forth the Resurrection, and with the Resurrection his right to future judgment; at the same time, it is true, to fill up the measure of the sins of Israel, whom he had loved exceedingly and for whom he had done such great wonders and signs, and to prepare for himself again a new people who should keep his commandments, his new law. The mission that his Father gave him he has accomplished, of his own free will and for our sake--the true explanation of his death--did he suffer. "The Jews" have not hoped upon him, clearly as the typical design of the Old Testament and Moses himself pointed to him, and, in opposition to the spiritual teaching of Moses, they have been seduced into the carnal and sensual by the devil; they have set their trust and their hopes, not upon God, but upon the fleshly circumcision and upon the visible house of God, worshipping the Lord in the temple almost like the heathen. But the Christian raises himself above the flesh and its lusts, which disturb the faculties of knowledge as well as those of will, to the Spirit and the spiritual service of God, above the ways of darkness to the ways of light; he presses on to faith, and with faith to perfect knowledge, as one born again, who is full of the Spirit of God, in whom God dwells and prophesies, interpreting past and future without being seen or heard; as taught of God and fulfilling the commandments of the new law of the Lord, a lover of the brethren, and in himself the child of peace, of joy, and of love. For this class of ideas there is no analogy in St. Paul, or even in the Epistle to the Hebrews, but only in this Gospel, much as the connection has hitherto been overlooked. Indeed, though it may still in places be questioned on which side the relation of dependence lies (it might be thought that Barnabas supplied the ideas, John the application of them, and the conception of the Logos crowning all), in any case the Gospel appeared at a date near to that of the Epistle of Barnabas. With more reason may it be said that it is not until we come to the Epistle of Barnabas that we find stiff scholastic theory a more predominant typology, an artificialised view of Judaism; besides the points of view always appear as something received and not originated--water and blood, new law, new people--and in the solemn manifestation of the Son of God immediately after the selection of the Apostles, in the great but fruitless exhibition of miracle and love for Israel, there is evidently allusion to history, that is, to John ii and xii.' 'The Epistle of Barnabas,' Dr. Keim adds, 'after the lucid demonstration of Volkmar--in spite of Hilgenfeld and Weizäcker, and now also of Riggenbach--was undoubtedly written at the time of the rebuilding of the temple under the Emperor Hadrian, about the year 120 A.D. (according to Volkmar, at the earliest, 118-119), at latest 130.' It is not to be expected that this full and able statement should carry conviction to every reader. And yet I believe that it has some solid foundation. The single instances are not perhaps such as could be pressed very far, but they derive a certain weight when taken together and as parts of a wider circle of ideas. The application of the type of the brazen serpent to Jesus in c. xii. may have been suggested by John iii. 14 sqq., but we cannot say that it was so with certainty. The same application is made by Justin in a place where there is perhaps less reason to assume a connection with the fourth Gospel; and we know that types and prophecies were eagerly sought out by the early Christians, and were soon collected in a kind of common stock from which every one drew at his pleasure. A stronger case, and one that I incline to think of some importance, is supplied by the peculiar combination of 'the water and the cross' in Barn. c. xi; not that here there is a direct and immediate, but more probably a mediate, connection with the fourth Gospel. The phrase [Greek: ho uios tou theou] is not peculiar to, though it is more frequent in, and to some degree characteristic of, the Gospel and First Epistle of St. John. [Greek: Phanerousthai] may be claimed more decidedly, especially by comparison with the other Gospels, though it occurs with similar reference to the Incarnation in the later Pauline Epistles. [Greek: 'Elthein en sarki] is again rightly classed as a Johannean phrase, though the exact counterpart is found rather in the Epistles than the Gospel. The doctrine of pre-existence is certainly taught in such passages as the application of the text, 'Let us make man in our image,' which is said to have been addressed to the Son 'from the foundation of the world' (c. v). Generally I think it may be said that the doctrine of the Incarnation, the typology, and the use of the Old Testament prophecies, approximate, most distinctly to the Johannean type, though under the latter heads there is of course much debased exaggeration. The soteriology we might be perhaps tempted to connect rather on the one hand with the Epistle to the Hebrews, and on the other with those of St. Paul. There may be something of an echo of the fourth Gospel in the allusion--to the unbelief and carnalised religion of the Jews. But the whole question of the speculative affinities of a writing like this requires subtle and delicate handling, and should be rather a subject for special treatment than an episode in an enquiry like the present. The opinion of Dr. Keim must be of weight, but on the whole I think it will be safest and fairest to say that, while the round assertion that the author of the Epistle was ignorant of our Gospel is not justified, the positive evidence that he made use of it is not sufficiently clear to be pressed controversially. * * * * * A similar condition of things may be predicated of the Shepherd of Hermas, though with a more decided leaning to the negative side. Here again Dr. Keim [Endnote 273:1], as well as Canon Westcott [Endnote 273:2], thinks that we can trace an acquaintance with the Gospel, but the indications are too general and uncertain to be relied upon. The imagery of the shepherd and the flock, as perhaps of the tower and the gate, may, be as well taken from the scenes of the Roman Campagna as from any previous writing. The keeping of the commandments is a commonplace of Christianity, not to say of religion. And the Divine immanence in the soul is conceived rather in the spirit of the elder Gospels than of the fourth. There is a nearer approach perhaps in the identification of 'the gate' with the 'Son of God,' and in the explanation with which it is accompanied. 'The rock is old because the Son of God is older than the whole of His creation; so that He was assessor to His Father in the creation of the world; the gate is new, because He was made manifest at the consummation of the last days, and they who are to be saved enter by it into the kingdom of God' (Sim. ix. 12). Here too we have the doctrine of pre-existence; and considering the juxtaposition of these three points, the pre- existence, the gate (which is the only access to the Lord), the identification of the gate with the incarnation of Jesus, we may say perhaps a _possible_ reference to the fourth Gospel; _probable_ it might be somewhat too much to call it. We must leave the reader to form his own estimate. * * * * * A somewhat greater force, but not as yet complete cogency, attaches to the evidence of the Ignatian letters. A parallel is alleged to a passage in the Epistle to the Romans which is found both in the Syriac and in the shorter Greek or Vossian version. 'I take no relish in corruptible food or in the pleasures of this life. I desire bread of God, heavenly bread, bread of life, which is the flesh of Jesus Christ, the Son of God, who was born in the latter days of the seed of David and Abraham; and I desire drink of God, His blood, which is love imperishable and ever-abiding life' [Endnote 275:1] (Ep. ad Rom. c. vii). This is compared with the discourse in the synagogue at Capernaum in the sixth chapter of St. John. It should be said that there is a difference of reading, though not one that materially influences the question, in the Syriac. If the parallel holds good, the peculiar diction of the author must be seen in the substitution of [Greek: poma] for [Greek: posis] of John vi. 55, and [Greek: aennaos zoae] for [Greek zoae aionios], of John vi. 54. [The Ignatian phrase is perhaps more than doubtful, as it does not appear either in the Syriac, the Armenian, or the Latin version.] Still this need not stand in the way of referring the original of the passage ultimately to the Gospel. The ideas are so remarkable that it seems difficult to suppose either are accidental coincidence or quotation from another writer. I suspect that Ignatius or the author of the Epistle really had the fourth Gospel in his mind, though not quite vividly, and by a train of comparatively remote suggestions. The next supposed allusion is from the Epistle to the Philadelphians: 'The Spirit, coming from God, is not to be deceived; for it knoweth whence it cometh and whither it goeth, and it searcheth that which is hidden' [Endnote 275:2]. This is obviously the converse of John iii. 5, where it is said that we do not know the way of the Spirit, which is like the wind, &c. And yet the exact verbal similarity of the phrase [Greek: oiden pothen erchetai kai pou hupagei], and its appearance in the same connection, spoken of the Spirit, leads us to think that there was--as there may very well have been--an association of ideas. This particular phrase [Greek: pothen erchetai kai pou hupagei] is very characteristically Johannean. It occurs three times over in the fourth Gospel, and not at all in the rest of the New Testament. The combination of [Greek: erchesthai] and [Greek hupagein] also occurs twice, and [Greek: pou [opou] hupago [-gei, -geis]] in all twelve times in the Gospel and once in the Epistle ([Greek: ouk oide pou hupagei]); this too, it is striking to observe, not at all elsewhere. The very word [Greek: hupago] is not found at all in St. Paul, St. Peter, or the Epistle to the Hebrews. Taken together with the special application to the Spirit, this must be regarded as a strong case. Neither do the arguments of 'Supernatural Religion' succeed in proving that there is no connection with St. John in such sentences as, 'There is one God who manifested Himself through Jesus Christ His Son, who is His eternal Word' (Ad Magn. c. viii), or who is Himself the door of the Father (Ad Philad. c. ix). In regard to the first of these especially, it is doubtless true that Philo also has 'the eternal Word,' which is even the 'Son' of God; but the idea is much more consciously metaphorical, and not only did the incarnation of the Logos in a historical person never enter into Philo's mind, but 'there is no room for it in his system' [Endnote 276:1]. It should be said that these latter passages are all found only in the Vossian recension of the Epistles, and therefore, as we saw above, are in any case evidence for the first half of the second century, while they _may_ be the genuine works of Ignatius. * * * * * The Epistle of Polycarp to the Philippians, which goes very much with the Ignatian Epistles and the external evidence for which it is so hard to resist, testifies to the fourth Gospel through the so-called first Epistle. That this Epistle is really by the same author as the Gospel is not indeed absolutely undoubted, but I imagine that it is as certain as any fact of literature can be. The evidence of style and diction is overwhelming [Endnote 277:1]. We may set side by side the two passages which are thought to be parallel. _Ep. ad Phil_. c. vii. [Greek: Pas gar hos an mae homologae Iaesoun Christon en sarki elaeluthenai antichristos esti; kai hos an mae homologae to marturion tou staurou ek tou diabolou esti; kai hos an methodeuae ta logia tou Kuriou pros tas idias epithumias, kai legae maete anastasin maete krisin einai, outos prototokos esti tou Satana.] 1 _John_ vi. 2, 3. [Greek: Pan pneuma ho homologei Iaesoun Christon en sarki elaeluthota ek tou Theou estin. Kai pan pneuma ho mae homologei tou Iaesoun ek tou Theou ouk estin, kai touto estin to tou antichristou, k.t.l.] This is precisely one of those passages where at a superficial glance we are inclined to think that there is no parallel, but where a deeper consideration tends to convince us of the opposite. The suggestion of Dr. Scholten cannot indeed be quite excluded, that both writers I have adopted a formula in use in the early Church against various heretics' [Endnote 277:2]. But if such a formula existed it is highly probable that it took its rise from St. John's Epistle. This passage of the Epistle of Polycarp is the earliest instance of the use of the word 'Antichrist' outside the Johannean writings in which, alone of the New Testament, it occurs five times. Here too it occurs in conjunction with other characteristic phrases, [Greek: homologein, en sarki elaeluthenai, ek tou diabolou]. The phraseology and turns of expression in these two verses accord so entirely with those of the rest of the Epistle and of the Gospel that we must needs take them to be the original work of the writer and not a quotation, and we can hardly do otherwise than see an echo of them in the words of Polycarp. There is naturally a certain hesitation in using evidence for the Epistle as available also for the Gospel, but I have little doubt that it may justly so be used and with no real diminution of its force. The chance that the Epistle had a separate author is too small to be practically worth considering. This then will apply to the case of Papias, of whose relations to the fourth Gospel we have no record, but of whom Eusebius expressly says, that 'he made use of testimonies from the first Epistle of John.' There is the less reason to doubt this statement, as in _every_ instance in which a similar assertion of Eusebius can be verified it is found to hold good. It is much more probable that he would overlook real analogies than be led astray by merely imaginary ones--which is rather a modern form of error. In textual matters the ancients were not apt to go wrong through over-subtlety, and Eusebius himself does not, I believe, deserve the charge of 'inaccuracy and haste' that is made against him [Endnote 278:1]. * * * * * In regard to the much disputed question of the use of the fourth Gospel by Justin, those who maintain the affirmative have again emphatic support from Dr. Keim [Endnote 278:2]. We will examine some of the instances which are adduced on this side. And first, in his account of John the Baptist, Justin has two particulars which are found in the fourth Gospel and in no other. That Gospel alone makes the Baptist himself declare, 'I am not the Christ;' and it alone puts into his mouth the application of the prophecy of Isaiah, 'I am the voice of one crying in the wilderness.' Justin combines these two sayings, treating them as an answer made by John to some who supposed that he was the Christ. _Justin, Dial_. c. 88. To whom he himself also cried: 'I am not the Christ, but the voice of one crying [Greek: ouk eimi o Christos, alla phonae boontos]; for there shall come one stronger than I,' &c. _John_ i. 19, 20, 23. And this is the record of John, when the Jews sent priests and Levites from Jerusalem to ask him, Who art thou? And he confessed, and denied not: but confessed, I am not the Christ [Greek: oti ouk eimi ego o Christos]... I am the voice of one crying [Greek: ego phonae boontos] in the wilderness,' &c. The passage in Justin does not profess to be a direct quotation; it is merely a historical reproduction, and, as such, it has quite as much accuracy as we should expect to find. The circumstantial coincidences are too close to be the result of accident. And Dr. Keim is doubtless right in ridiculing Volkmar's notion that Justin has merely developed Acts xiii. 25, which contains neither of the two phrases ([Greek: ho Christos, phonae boontos]) in question. To refer the passage to an unknown source such as the Gospel according to the Hebrews--all we know of which shows its affinities to have been rather on the side of the Synoptics--when we have a known source in the fourth Gospel ready to hand, is quite unreasonable [Endnote 280:1]. No great weight, though perhaps some fractional quantity, can be ascribed to the statement that Jesus healed those who were maimed from their birth ([Greek: tous ek genetaes paerous] [Endnote 280:2]). The word [Greek: paeros] is used specially for the blind, and the fourth Evangelist is the only one who mentions the healing of congenital infirmity, which he does under this same phrase [Greek: ek genetaes], and that of a case of blindness (John ix. 1). The possibility urged in 'Supernatural Religion,' that Justin may be merely drawing from tradition, may detract from the force of this but cannot altogether remove it, especially as we have no other trace of a tradition containing this particular. Tischendorf [Endnote 280:3] lays stress on a somewhat remarkable phenomenon in connection with the quotation of Zech. xvi. 10, 'They shall look on him whom they pierced.' Justin gives the text of this in precisely the same form as St. John, and with the same variation from the Septuagint, [Greek: opsontai eis hon exekentaesan] for [Greek: epiblepsontai pros me anth hon katorchaesanto]--a variation which is also found in Rev. i. 7. Those who believe that the Apocalypse had the same author as the Gospel, naturally see in this a confirmation of their view, and it would seem to follow that Justin had had either one or both writings before him. But the assumption of an identity of authorship between the Apocalypse and the Gospel, though I believe less unreasonable than is generally supposed, still is too much disputed to build anything upon in argument. We must not ignore the other theory, that all three writers had before them and may have used independently a divergent text of the Septuagint. Some countenance is given to this by the fact that ten MSS. of the Septuagint present the same reading [Endnote 281:1]. There can be little doubt however that it was in its origin a Christian correction, which had the double advantage of at once bringing the Greek into closer conformity to the Hebrew, and of also furnishing support to the Christian application of the prophecy. Whether this correction was made before either the Apocalypse or the Gospel were written, or whether it appeared in these works for the first time and from them was copied into other Christian writings, must remain an open question. The saying in Apol. i. 63, 'so that they are rightly convicted both by the prophetic Spirit and by Christ Himself, that they knew neither the Father nor the Son' ([Greek: oute ton patera oute ton uion egnosan]), certainly presents a close resemblance to John xvi. 3, [Greek: ouk egnosan ton patera oude eme]. But a study of the context seems to make it clear that the only passage consciously present to Justin's mind was Matt. xi. 27. Dr. Keim thinks that St. John supplied him with a commentary oh the Matthaean text; but the coincidence may be after all accidental. But the most important isolated case of literary parallelism is the well-known passage in Apol. i. 61 [Endnote 281:2]. _Apol_. i. 61. For Christ said: Except ye be born again ye shall not enter into the kingdom of heaven. Now that it is impossible for those who have once been born to return into the wombs of those who bare them is evident to all. [Greek: Kai gar ho Christos eipen, An mae anagennaethaete, ou mae eiselthaete eis taen Basileian ton ouranon. Hoti de kai adunaton eis tas maetras ton tekouson tous hapax gennomenous embaenai, phaneron pasin esti.] _John_ iii. 3-5. Jesus answered and said unto him, Verily, verily, I say unto thee, Except any one be born over again (or possibly 'from above'), he cannot see the kingdom of God. Nicodemus saith unto him, How can a man be born when he is old? can he enter a second time into his mother's womb, and be born? Jesus answered, Verily, verily, I say unto thee, Except any one be born of Water and Spirit, he cannot enter into the kingdom of God. [Greek: Apekrithae Iaesous kai eipen auto Amaen amaen lego soi, ean mae tis gennaethae anothen ou dunatai idein taen Basilaian tou Theou. Legei pros aouton ho Nikodaemos, Pos dunatai anthropos gennaethaenai geron on; mae dunatai eis taen koilian taes maertros autou deuteron eiselthein kai gennaethaenai; k.t.l.] Here we have first to determine the meaning of the word [Greek: anothen] in the phrase [Greek: gennaethae anothen] of John iii. 3 on which the extent of the parallelism to some degree turns. Does it mean 'be born _over again_,' like Justin's [Greek: anagennaethaete]? Or does it mean 'be born _from above_,' i.e. by a heavenly, divine, regeneration? To express an opinion in favour of the first of these views would naturally be to incur the charge of taking it up merely to suit the occasion. It is not however necessary; for it is sufficient to know that whether or not this meaning was originally intended by the Evangelist, it is a meaning that Justin might certainly put upon the words. That this is the case is sufficiently proved by the fact that the Syriac version (which is quoted in 'Supernatural Religion,' by a pardonable mistake, on the other side [Endnote 283:1]) actually translates the words thus. So also does the Vulgate; with Tertullian ('renatus'), Augustine, Chrysostom (partly), Luther, Calvin, Maldonatus, &c. For the sense 'from above' are the Gothic version, Origen, Cyril, Theophylact, Bengel, &c.; on the whole a fairly equal division of opinion. The question has been of late elaborately re-argued by Mr. McClellan [Endnote 283:2], who decides in favour of 'again.' But, without taking sides either way, it is clear that Justin would have had abundant support, in particular that of his own national version, if he intended [Greek: anagennaethaete] to be a paraphrase of [Greek: gennaethae anothen]. It is obvious that if he is quoting St. John the quotation is throughout paraphrastic. And yet it is equally noticeable that he does not use the exact Johannean phrase, he uses others that are in each case almost precisely equivalent. He does not say [Greek: our dunatai idein--taen basileian ton ouranon], but he says [Greek: ou mae eiselthaete eis--taen basileian ton ouranon], the latter pair phrases which the Synoptics have already taught us to regard as convertible. He does not say [Greek: mae dunatai eis taen koilian taes maetros autou deuteron eiselthein kai gennaethaenai], but he says [Greek: adunaton eis tas maetras ton tekouson tous hapax gennomenous embaebai]. And the scale seems decisively turned by the very remarkable combination in Justin and St. John of the saying respecting spiritual regeneration with the same strangely gross physical misconception. It is all but impossible that two minds without concert or connection should have thought of introducing anything of the kind. Nicodemus makes an objection, and Justin by repeating the same objection, and in a form that savours so strongly of platitude, has shown, I think we must say, conclusively, that he was aware that the objection had been made. Such are some of the chief literary coincidences between Justin and the fourth Gospel; but there are others more profound. Justin undoubtedly has the one cardinal doctrine of the fourth Gospel-- the doctrine of the Logos. Thus he writes. 'Jesus Christ is in the proper sense [Greek: idios] the only Son begotten of God, being His Word [Greek: logos] and Firstborn Power' [Endnote 284:1]. Again, 'But His Son who alone is rightly [Greek: kurios] called Son, who before all created things was with Him and begotten of Him as His Word, when in the beginning He created and ordered all things through Him,' &c. Again, 'Now the next Power to God the Father and Lord of all, and Son [Endnote 284:2], is the Word, of whom we shall relate in what follows how He was made flesh and became Man.' Again, 'The Word of God is His Son.' Again, speaking of the Gentile philosophers and lawgivers, 'Since they did not know all things respecting the Word, who is Christ, they have also frequently contradicted each other.' These passages are given by Tischendorf, and they might be added to without difficulty; but it is not questioned that the term Logos is found frequently in Justin's writings, and in the same sense in which it is used in the Prologue of the fourth Gospel of the eternal Son of God, who is at the same time the historical person Jesus Christ. The natural inference that Justin was acquainted with the fourth Gospel is met by suggesting other sources for the doctrine. These sources are of two kinds, Jewish or Alexandrine. It is no doubt true that a vivid personification of the Wisdom of God is found both in the Old Testament and in the Apocrypha. Thus in the book of Proverbs we have an elaborate ode upon Wisdom as the eternal assessor in the counsels of God: 'The Lord possessed me in' the beginning of His way, before His works of old. I was set up from everlasting, from the beginning, or ever the earth was. When there were no depths, I was brought forth; when there were no fountains of water ... When He prepared the heavens, I was there: when He set a compass upon the face of the deep ... Then I was by Him, as one brought up with Him: and I was daily His delight, rejoicing always before Him' [Endnote 285:1]. The ideas of which this is perhaps the clearest expression are found more vaguely in other parts of the same book, in the Psalms, and in the book of Job, but they are further expanded and developed in the two Apocryphal books of Wisdom. There [Endnote 285:2] Wisdom is represented as the 'breath of the power of God, and a pure influence flowing from the glory of the Almighty,' as 'the brightness [Greek: apaugasma] of the everlasting light, the unspotted mirror of the power of God, and the image of His goodness.' Wisdom 'sitteth by the throne' of God. She reacheth from one end to another mightily: and sweetly doth she order all things.' 'She is privy to the mysteries of the knowledge of God and a lover of His works.' God 'created her before the world' [Endnote 286:1]. We also get by the side of this, but in quite a subordinate place and in a much less advanced stage of personification, the idea of the Word or Logos: 'O God of my fathers ... who hast made all things with thy word, and ordained man through thy wisdom' [Endnote 286:2]. 'It was neither herb nor mollifying plaister that restored them to health: but thy word, O Lord, which healeth all things.' It was 'the Almighty word' ([Greek: ho pantodunamos logos]) 'that leaped down from heaven' to slay the Egyptians. But still it will be seen that there is a distinct gap between these conceptions and that which we find in Justin. The leading idea is that of Wisdom, not of the Word. The Word is not even personified separately; it is merely the emitted power or energy of God. And the personification of Wisdom is still to a large extent poetical, it does not attain to separate metaphysical hypostasis; it is not thought of as being really personal. The Philonian conception, on the other hand, is metaphysical, but it contains many elements that are quite discordant and inconsistent with that which we find in Justin. That it must have been so will be seen at once when we think of the sources from which Philo's doctrine was derived. It included in itself the Platonic theory of Ideas, the diffused Logos or _anima mundi_ of the Stoics, and the Oriental angelology or doctrine of intermediate beings between God and man. On its Platonic side the Logos is the Idea of Ideas summing up the world of high abstractions which themselves are also regarded as possessing a separate individuality; they are Logoi by the side of the Logos. On its Stoic side it becomes a Pantheistic Essence pervading the life of things; it is 'the law,' 'the bond' which holds the world together; the world is its 'garment.' On its Eastern side, the Logos is the 'Archangel,' the 'Captain of the hosts of heaven,' the 'Mother-city' from which they issue as colonists, the 'Vice- gerent' of the Great King [Endnote 287:1]. It needed a more powerful mind than Justin's to reduce all this to its simple Christian expression, to take the poetry of Judaea and the philosophy of Alexandria and to interpret and realise both in the light of the historical events of the birth and life of Christ. 'The Word became flesh' is the key by which Justin is made intelligible, and that key is supplied by the fourth Gospel. No other Christian writer had combined these two ideas before--the divine Logos, with the historical personality of Jesus. When therefore we find the ideas combined as in Justin, we are necessarily referred to the fourth Gospel for them; for the strangely inverted suggestion of Volkmar, that the author of the fourth Gospel borrowed from Justin, is on chronological, if not on other grounds, certainly untenable. We shall see that the fourth Gospel was without doubt in existence at the date which Volkmar assigns to Justin's Apology, 150 A. D. * * * * * The history of the discussion as to the relation of the Clementine Homilies to the fourth Gospel is highly instructive, not only in itself, but also for the light which it throws upon the general character of our enquiry and the documents with which it is concerned. It has been already mentioned that up to the year 1853 the Clementine Homilies were only extant in a mutilated form, ending abruptly in the middle of Hom. xix. 14. In that year a complete edition was at last published by Dressel from a manuscript in the Vatican containing the rest of the nineteenth and the twentieth Homily. The older portion occupies in all, with the translation and critical apparatus, 381 large octavo pages in Dressel's edition; the portion added by Dressel occupies 34. And yet up to 1853, though the Clementine Homilies had been carefully studied with reference to the use of the fourth Gospel, only a few indications had been found, and those were disputed. In fact, the controversy was very much at such a point as others with which we have been dealing; there was a certain probability in favour of the conclusion that the Gospel had been used, but still considerably short of the highest. Since the publication of the conclusion of the Homilies the question has been set at rest. Hilgenfeld, who had hitherto been a determined advocate of the negative theory, at once gave up his ground [Endnote 288:1]; and Volkmar, who had somewhat less to retract, admitted and admits [Endnote 288:2] that the fact of the use of the Gospel must be considered as proved. The author of 'Supernatural Religion' stands alone in still resisting this conviction [Endnote 288:3], but the result I suspect will be only to show in stronger relief the one- sidedness of his critical method. We will follow the example that is set us in presenting the whole of the passages alleged to contain allusions to the fourth Gospel; and it is the more interesting to do so with the key that the recent discovery has put into Our hands. The first runs thus:-- _Hom._ iii. 52. Therefore he, being a true prophet, said: I am the gate of life; he that entereth in through me entereth into life: for the teaching that can save is none other [than mine]. [Greek: Dia touto autos alaethaes on prophaetaes elegen; Ego eimi hae pulae taes zoaes; ho di' emou eiserchomenos eiserchetai eis taen zoaen; hos ouk ousaes heteras taes sozein dunamenaes didaskalias.] _John_ x. 9. I am the door: by me if any one enter in, he shall be saved, and shall come in and go out, and shall find pasture. [Greek: Ego eimi hae thura; di' emou ean tis eiselthae sothaesetai kai eiseleusetai kai exeleusetai kai nomaen heuraesei.] Apart from other evidence it would have been somewhat precarious to allege this as proof of the use of the fourth Gospel, and yet I believe there would have been a distinct probability that it was taken from that work. The parallel is much closer--in spite of [Greek: thura] for [Greek: pulae]--than is Matt. vii. 13, 14 (the 'narrow gate') which is adduced in 'Supernatural Religion,' and the interval is very insufficiently bridged over by Ps. cxviii. 19, 20 ('This is the gate of the Lord'). The key-note of the passage is given in the identification of the gate with the person of the Saviour ('_I_ am the door') and in the remarkable expression 'he that entereth in _through me_,' which is retained in the Homily. It is curious to notice the way in which the [Greek: sothaesetai] of the Gospel has been expanded exegetically. Less doubtful--and indeed we should have thought almost beyond a doubt--is the next reference; 'My sheep hear my voice.' _Hom._ iii. 52. [Greek: ta ema probata akouei taes emaes phonaes.] _John_ x. 27. [Greek: ta probata ta ema taes phonaes mou akouei.] 'There was no more common representation amongst the Jews of the relation of God and his people than that of Shepherd and his sheep' [Endnote 290:1]. That is to say, it occurs of Jehovah or of the Messiah some twelve or fifteen times in the Old and New Testament together, but never with anything at all closely approaching to the precise and particular feature given here. Let the reader try to estimate the chances that another source than the fourth Gospel is being quoted. Criticism is made null and void when such seemingly plain indications as this are discarded in favour of entirely unknown quantities like the 'Gospel according to the Hebrews.' If the author of 'Supernatural Religion' were to turn his own powers of derisive statement against his own hypotheses they would present a very strange appearance. The reference that follows has in some respects a rather marked resemblance to that which we were discussing in Justin, and for the relation between them to be fully appreciated should be given along with it:-- _Justin, Apol._ i. 61. Except ye be born again ye shall not enter into the kingdom of heaven. [Greek: An mae anagennaethaete ou mae eiselthaete eis taen basileian ton ouranon.] _Clem. Hom._ xi. 26. Verily I say unto you, Except ye be born again with living water, in the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, ye shall not enter into the kingdom of heaven. [Greek: Amaen humin lego, ean mae anagennaethaete hudati zonti eis onoma patros, uhiou, hagiou pneumatos, ou mae eiselthaete eis taen basileian ton ouranon.] _John_ iii. 3, 5. Verily, verily, I say unto thee, Except any one be born over again (or 'from above') he cannot see the kingdom of God ... Except any one be born of water and Spirit, he cannot enter into the kingdom of God. [Greek: Amaen amaen lego soi, ean mae tis gennaethae anothen, ou dunatai idein taen basileian tou Theou ... ean mae tis gennaethae ex hudatos kai pneumatos, ou dunatai eiselthein eis taen basileian tou Theou.] [Greek: pneum]. add. [Greek: hagiou] Vulg. (Clementine edition), a, ff, m, Aeth., Orig. (Latin translator). Here it will be noticed that Justin and the Clementines have four points in common, [Greek: anagennaethaete] for [Greek: gennaethae anothen], the second person plural (twice over) for [Greek: tis] and the singular, [Greek: ou mae] and the subjunctive for [Greek: ou dunatai] and infinitive, and [Greek: taen basileian ton ouranon], for [Greek: taen basileian tou Theou]. To the last of these points much importance could not be attached in itself, as it represents a persistent difference between the first and the other Synoptists even where they had the same original. As both the Clementines and Justin used the first Gospel more than the others, it is only natural that they should fall into the habit of using its characteristic phrase. Neither would the other points have had very much importance taken separately, but their importance increases considerably when they come to be taken together. On the other hand, we observe in the Clementines (where it is however connected with Matt. xxviii. 19) the sufficiently near equivalent for the striking Johannean phrase [Greek: ex hudatos kai pneumatos] which is omitted entirely by Justin. The most probable view of the case seems to be that both the Clementines and Justin are quoting from memory. Both have in their memory the passage of St. John, but both have also distinctly before them (so much the more distinctly as it is the Gospel which they habitually used) the parallel passage in Matt. xviii. 3-- where _all the last three_ out of the four common variations are found, besides, along with the Clementines, the omission of the second [Greek: amaen],--'Verily I say unto you, Except ye be converted, and become as little children, ye shall not enter into the kingdom of heaven' ([Greek: on mae eiseathaete eis taen basileian ton ouranon]). It is out of the question that this _only_ should have been present to the mind of the writers; and, in view of the repetition of Nicodemus' misunderstanding by Justin and of the baptism by water and Spirit in the Clementine Homilies, it seems equally difficult to exclude the reference to St. John. It is in fact a Johannean saying in a Matthaean framework. There is the more reason to accept this solution, that neither Justin nor the Clementines can in any case represent the original form of the passages quoted. If Justin's version were correct, whence did the Clementines get the [Greek: hudati zonti k.t.l.]? if the Clementine, then whence did Justin get the misconception of Nicodemus? But the Clementine version is in any case too eccentric to stand. The last passage is the one that is usually considered to be decisive as to the use of the fourth Gospel. _Hom_. xix. 22. Hence too our Teacher, when explaining to those who asked of him respecting the man who was blind from his birth and recovered his sight, whether this man sinned or his parents that he should be born blind, replied: Neither this man sinned, nor his parents; but that through him the power of God might be manifested healing the sins of ignorance. [Greek: Hothen kai didaskalos haemon peri tou [Endnote 293:1] ek genetaes paerou kai anablepsantos par' autou exetazon erotaesasin, ei ohutos haemarten ae oi goneis autou, hina tuphlos gennaethae [Endnote 293:1] apekrinato oute ohutos ti haemarten, oute oi goneis autou, all' hina di autou phanerothae hae dunamis tou Theou taes agnoias iomenae ta hamartaemata.] _John_ ix. 1-3. And as he passed by, he saw a man blind from his birth. And his disciples asked him, saying, Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he should be born blind? Jesus answered, Neither hath this man sinned, nor his parents: but that the works of God should be manifested in him. [Greek: Kai paragon eiden anthropon tuphlon ek genetaes. Kai aerotaesan auton oi mathaetai autou legontes, Rhabbei, tis haemarten, ohutos ae oi goneis autou, hina tuphlos gennaethae; apekrithae Iaesous, Oute ohutos haemarten oute oi goneis autou, all' hina phanerothae ta erga tou Theou en auto.] The author of 'Supernatural Religion' undertakes to show 'that the context of this passage in the Homily bears positive characteristics which render it impossible that it can have been taken from the fourth Gospel' [Endnote 293:2]. I think we may venture to say that he does indeed show somewhat conspicuously the way in which he uses the word 'impossible' and the kind of grounds on which that and such like terms are employed throughout his work. It is a notorious fact, abundantly established by certain quotations from the Old Testament and elsewhere, that the last thing regarded by the early patristic writers was context. But in this case the context is perfectly in keeping, and to a clear and unprejudiced eye it presents no difficulty. The Clementine writer is speaking of the origin of physical infirmities, and he says that these are frequently due, not to moral error, but to mere ignorance on the part of parents. As an instance of this he gives the case of the man who was born blind, of whom our Lord expressly said that neither he nor his parents had sinned--morally or in such a way as to deserve punishment. On the contrary they had erred simply through ignorance, and the object of the miracle was to make a display of the Divine mercy removing the consequences of such error. 'And in reality,' he proceeds, 'things of this kind are the result of ignorance. The misfortunes of which you spoke, proceed from ignorance and not from any wicked action.' This is perfectly compatible with every word of the Johannean narrative. The concluding clause of the quotation is merely a paraphrase of the original (no part of the quotation professes to be exact), bringing out a little more prominently the special point of the argument. There is ample room for this. The predetermined object of the miracle, says St. John, was to display the works of God, and the Clementine writer specifies the particular work of God displayed--the mercy which heals the evil consequences of ignorance. If there is anything here at all inconsistent with the Gospel it would be interesting to know (and we are not told) what was the kind of original that the author of the Homily really had before him. A further discussion of this passage I should hardly suppose to be necessary. Nothing could be more wanton than to assign this passage to an imaginary Gospel merely on the ground alleged. The hypothesis was less violent in regard to the Synoptic Gospels, which clearly contain a large amount of common matter that might also have found its way into other hands. We have evidence of the existence of other Gospels presenting a certain amount of affinity to the first Gospel, but the fourth is stamped with an idiosyncracy which makes it unique in its kind. If there is to be this freedom in inventing unknown documents, reproducing almost verbatim the features of known ones, sober criticism is at an end. That the Clementine Homilies imply the use of the fourth Gospel may be considered to be, not indeed certain in a strict sense of the word, but as probable as most human affairs can be. The real element or doubt is in regard to their date, and their evidence must be taken subject to this uncertainty. * * * * * It is perhaps hardly worth while to delay over the Epistle to Diognetus: not that I do not believe the instances alleged by Tischendorf and Dr. Westcott [Endnote 295:1] to be in themselves sound, but because there exists too little evidence to determine the date of the Epistle, and because it may be doubted whether the argument for the use of the fourth Gospel in the Epistle can be expressed strongly in an objective form. The allusions in question are not direct quotations, but are rather reminiscences of language. The author of 'Supernatural Religion' has treated them as if they were the former [Endnote 296:1]; he has enquired into the context &c., not very successfully. But such enquiry is really out of place. When the writer of the Epistle says, 'Christians dwell in the world but are not of the world' [Greek: ouk xisi de ek tou kosmou] = exactly John xvii. 14; note peculiar use of the preposition); 'For God loved men for whose sakes He made the world ... unto whom He sent His only begotten Son' (= John iii. 16, 'God so loved the world that He gave His only-begotten Son'); 'How will you love Him who so beforehand loved you' [Greek: proagapaesanta]; cf. i John iv. 19, [Greek: protos aegapaesen] 'He sent His Son as wishing to save ... and not to condemn' ([Greek: sozon ... krinon] of. John iii. 16),--the probability is about as great that he had in his mind St. John's language as it would be if the same phrases were to occur in a modern sermon. It is a real probability; but not one that can be urged very strongly. * * * * * Of more importance--indeed of high importance--is the evidence drawn from the remains of earlier writers preserved by Irenaeus and Hippolytus. There is a clear reference to the fourth Gospel in a passage for which Irenaeus alleges the authority of certain 'Presbyters,' who at the least belonged to an elder generation than his own. There can be little doubt indeed that they are the same as those whom he describes three sentences later and with only a momentary break in the oblique narration into which the passage is thrown, as 'the Presbyters, disciples of the Apostles.' It may be well to give the language of Irenaeus in full as it has been the subject of some controversy. Speaking of the rewards of the just in the next world, he says [Endnote 297:1]:-- 'For Esaias says, "Like as the new heaven and new earth which I create remain before me, saith the Lord, so your seed and your name shall stand." And as the Presbyters say, then too those who are thought worthy to have their abode in Heaven shall go thither, and some shall enjoy the delights of Paradise, while others shall possess the splendour of the City; for everywhere the Saviour shall be seen according as they shall be worthy who look upon Him. [So far the sentence has been in oratio recta, but here it becomes oblique.] And [they say] that there is this distinction in dwelling between those who bear fruit an hundred fold and those who bear sixty and those who bear thirty, some of whom shall be carried off into the Heavens, some shall stay in Paradise, and some shall dwell in the City. And for this reason, [they say that] the Lord declared ([Greek: eipaekenai]) that _in my Father's_ [realm] _are many mansions;_ for all things [are] of God, who gives to all the fitting habitation: even as His Word saith (_ait_), that to all is allotted by the Father as each is or shall be worthy. And this is (_est_) the couch upon which they shall recline who are bidden to His marriage supper. That this is (_esse_) the order and disposition of the saved, the Presbyters, disciples of the Apostles, say,' etc. That Irenaeus is here merely giving the 'exegesis of his own day,' as the author of 'Supernatural Religion' suggests [Endnote 297:2], is not for a moment tenable. Irenaeus does indeed interpose for two sentences (Omnia enim... ad nuptias) to give his own comment on the saying of the Presbyters; but these are sharply cut off from the rest by the use of the present indicative instead of the infinitive. There can be no question at all that the quotation 'in My Father's realm are many mansions' [Greek: en tois ton Patros mon monas einai pollas] belongs to the Presbyters, and there can be but little doubt that these Presbyters are the same as those spoken of as 'disciples of the Apostles.' Whether they were also 'the Presbyters' referred to as his authority by Papias is quite a secondary and subordinate question. Considering the Chiliastic character of the passage, the conjecture [Endnote 298:1] that they were does not seem to me unreasonable. This however we cannot determine positively. It is quite enough that Irenaeus evidently attributes to them an antiquity considerably beyond his own; that, in fact, he looks upon them as supplying the intermediate link between his age and that of the Apostles. * * * * * Two quotations from the fourth Gospel are attributed to Basilides, both of them quite indisputable as quotations. The first is found in the twenty-second chapter of the seventh book of the 'Refutation,' 'That was the true light which lighteth every man that cometh into the world [Endnote 298:2] ([Greek: aen to phos to alaethinon, o photizei panta anthropon erchomenon eis ton kosmon] = John i. 9), and the second in the twenty-seventh chapter, 'My hour is not yet come' ([Greek: oupo aekei aeora mon] = John ii. 4). Both of these passages are instances of the exegesis by which the Basilidian doctrines were defended. The real question is here, as in regard to the Synoptics, whether the quotations were made by Basilides himself or by his disciples, 'Isidore and his crew.' The second instance I am disposed to think may possibly be due to the later representatives of this school, because, though the quotation is introduced by [Greek: phaesi] in the singular, and though Basilides himself can in no case be excluded, still there is nothing in the chapter to identify the subject of [Greek: phaesi] specially with him, and in the next sentence Hippolytus writes, 'This is that which they understand ([Greek: ho kat' autous nenoaemenos]) by the inner spiritual man,' &c. But the earlier instance is different. There Basilides himself does seem to be specially singled out. He is mentioned by name only two sentences above that in which the quotation occurs. Hippolytus is referring to the Basilidian doctrine of the origin of things. He says, 'Now since it was not allowable to say that something non-existent had come into being as a projection from a non-existent Deity--for Basilides avoids and shuns the existences of things brought into being by projection [Endnote 299:1]--for what need is there of projection, or why should matter be presupposed in order that God should make a world, just as a spider its web or as mortal man in making things takes brass or wood or any other portion of matter? But He spake--so he says--and it was done, and this is, as these men say, that which is said by Moses: "Let there be light, and there was light." Whence, he says, came the light? Out of nothing; for we are not told--he says--whence it came, but only that it was at the voice of Him that spake. Now He that spake--he says--was not, and that which was made, was not. Out of that which was not--he says-- was made the seed of the world, the word which was spoken, "Let there be light;" and this--he says--is that which is spoken in the Gospels; "That was the true light which lighteth every man that cometh into the world.'" We must not indeed overlook the fact that the plural occurs once in the middle of this passage as introducing the words of Moses; 'as these men say.' And yet, though this decidedly modifies, I do not think that it removes the probability that Basilides himself is being quoted. It seems a fair inference that at the beginning of the passage Hippolytus had the work of Basilides actually before him; and the single digression in [Greek: legousin houtoi] does not seem enough to show that it was laid aside. This is confirmed when we look back two chapters at the terms in which the whole account of the Basilidian system is introduced. 'Let us see,' Hippolytus says, 'how flagrantly Basilides as well as (B. [Greek: homou kai]) Isidore and all their crew contradict not only Matthias but the Saviour himself.' Stress is laid upon the name of Basilides, as if to say, 'It is not merely a new-fangled heresy, but dates back to the head and founder of the school.' When in the very next sentence Hippolytus begins with [Greek: phaesi], the natural construction certainly seems to be that he is quoting some work of Basilides which he takes as typical of the doctrine of the whole school. A later work would not suit his purpose or prove his point. Basilides includes Isidore, but Isidore does not include Basilides. We conclude then that there is a probability--not an overwhelming, but quite a substantial, probability--that Basilides himself used the fourth Gospel, and used it as an authoritative record of the life of Christ. But Basilides began to teach in 125 A.D., so that his evidence, supposing it to be valid, dates from a very early period indeed: and it should be remembered that this is the only uncertainty to which it is subject. That the quotation is really from St. John cannot be doubted. The account which Hippolytus gives of the Valentinians also contains an allusion to the fourth Gospel; 'All who came before Me are thieves and robbers' (cf. John x. 8). But here the master and the disciples are more confused. Less equivocal evidence is afforded by the statements of Irenaeus respecting the Valentinians. He says that the Valentinians used the fourth Gospel very freely (plenissime) [Endnote 301:1]. This applies to a date that cannot be in any case later than 180 A.D., and that may extend almost indefinitely backwards. There is no reason to say that it does not include Valentinus himself. Positive evidence is wanting, but negative evidence still more. Apart from evidence to the contrary, there must be a presumption against the introduction of a new work which becomes at once a frequently quoted authority midway in the history of a school. But to keep to facts apart from presumptions. Irenaeus represents Ptolemaeus as quoting largely from the Prologue to the Gospel. But Ptolemaeus, as we have seen, had already gathered a school about him when Irenaeus became acquainted with him. His evidence therefore may fairly be said to cover the period from 165-175 A.D. The author of 'Supernatural Religion' seems to be somewhat beside the mark when he says that 'in regard to Ptolemaeus all that is affirmed is that in the Epistle to Flora ascribed to him expressions found in John i. 3 are used.' True it is that such expressions are found, and before we accept the theory in 'Supernatural Religion' that the parenthesis in which they occur is due to Epiphanius who quotes the letter in full himself [Endnote 302:1], it is only right that some other instance should be given of such parenthetic interruption. The form in which the letter is quoted, not in fragments interspersed with comments but complete and at full length, with a formal heading and close, really excludes such a hypothesis. But, a century and a half before Epiphanius, Irenaeus had given a string of Valentinian comments on the Prologue, ending with the words, 'Et Ptolemaeus quidem ita' [Endnote 302:2]. Heracleon, too, is coupled with Ptolemaeus by Irenaeus [Endnote 302:3], and according to the view of the author of 'Supernatural Religion,' had a school around him at the time of Irenaeus' visit to Rome in 178 A.D. But this Heracleon was the author of a Commentary on St. John's Gospel to which Origen in his own parallel work frequently alludes. These are indeed dismissed in 'Supernatural Religion' as 'unsupported references.' But we may well ask, what support they need. The references are made in evident good faith. He says, for instance [Endnote 302:4], that Heracleon's exegesis of John i. 3, 'All things were made by Him,' excluding from this the world and its contents, is very forced and without authority. Again, he has misinterpreted John i. 4, making 'in Him was life' mean not 'in Him' but 'in spiritual men.' Again, he wrongly attributes John i. 18 not to the Evangelist, but to the Baptist. And so on. The allusions are all made in this incidental manner; and the life of Origen, if he was born, as is supposed, about 185 A.D., would overlap that of Heracleon. What evidence could be more sufficient? or if such evidence is to be discarded, what evidence are we to accept? Is it to be of the kind that is relied upon for referring quotations to the Gospel according to the Hebrews, or the Gospel according to Peter, or the [Greek: Genna Marias]? There are sometimes no doubt reasonable grounds for scepticism as to the patristic statements, but none such are visible here. On the contrary, that Heracleon should have written a commentary on the fourth Gospel falls in entirely with what Irenaeus says as to the large use that was made of that Gospel by the Valentinians. * * * * * As we approach the end of the third and beginning of the fourth quarter of the second century the evidence for the fourth Gospel becomes widespread and abundant. At this date we have attention called to the discrepancy between the Gospels as to the date of the Crucifixion by Claudius Apollinaris. We have also Tatian, the Epistle of the Churches of Vienne and Lyons, the heathen Celsus and the Muratorian Canon, and then a very few years later Theophilus of Antioch and Irenaeus. I imagine that there can be really no doubt about Tatian. Whatever may have been the nature of the Diatessaron, the 'Address to the Greeks' contains references which it is mere paradox to dispute. I will not press the first of these which is given by Dr. Westcott, not because I do not believe that it is ultimately based upon the fourth Gospel, still less that there is the slightest contradiction to St. John's doctrine, but because Tatian's is a philosophical comment perhaps a degree too far removed from the original to be quite producible as evidence. It is one of the earliest speculations as to the ontological relation between the Father and the Son. In the beginning God was alone--though all things were with Him potentially. By the mere act of volition He gave birth to the Logos, who was the real originative cause of things. Yet the existence of the Logos was not such as to involve a separation of identity in the Godhead; it involved no diminution in Him from whom the Logos issued. Having been thus first begotten, the Logos in turn begat our creation, &c. The Logos is thus represented as being at once prior to creation (the Johannean [Greek: en archae]) and the efficient cause of it--which is precisely the doctrine of the Prologue. The other two passages are however quite unequivocal. _Orat. ad Graecos_, c. xiii. And this is therefore that saying: The darkness comprehends not the light. [Greek: Kai touto estin ara to eiraemenon Hae skotia to phos ou katalambanei.] _John_ i. 5. And the light shineth in the darkness; and the darkness comprehended it not. [Greek: Kai to phos en tae skotia phainei, kai hae skotia auto ou katelaben.] On this there is the following comment in 'Supernatural Religion' [Endnote 305:1]: '"The saying" is distinctly different in language from the parallel in the Gospel, and it may be from a different Gospel. We have already remarked that Philo called the Logos "the Light," and quoting in a peculiar form, Ps. xxvi. 1: 'For the Lord is my light ([Greek: phos]) and my Saviour,' he goes on to say that as the sun divides day and night, so Moses says, 'God divides light and darkness' ([Greek: Theon phos kai skotos diateichisai]), when we turn away to things of sense we use 'another light' which is in no way different from 'darkness.' The constant use of the same similitude of light and darkness in the Canonical Epistles shows how current it was in the Church; and nothing is more certain than the fact that it was neither originated by, nor confined to, the fourth Gospel.' Such criticism refutes itself, and it is far too characteristic of the whole book. Nothing is adduced that even remotely corresponds to the very remarkable phrase [Greek: hae skotia to phos katalambanei], and yet for these imaginary parallels one that is perfectly plain and direct is rejected. The use of the phrase [Greek: to eiraemenon] should be noticed. It is the formula used, especially by St. Luke, in quotation from the Old Testament Scriptures. The other passage is:-- _Orat. ad Graecos_, c. xix. All things were by him, and without him hath been made nothing. [Greek: Panta hup' autou kai choris autou gegonen oude hen.] _John_ i. 3. All things were made through him; and without him was nothing made [that hath been made]. [Greek: Panta di' autou egeneto, kai choris autou egeneto oude hen [ho gegonen]]. 'The early Fathers, no less than the early heretics,' placed the full stop at [Greek: oude hen], connecting the words that follow with the next sentence. See M'Clellan and Tregelles _ad loc_. 'Tatian here speaks of God and not of the Logos, and in this respect, as well as language and context, the passage differs from the fourth Gospel' [Endnote 306:1], &c. Nevertheless it may safely be left to the reader to say whether or not it was taken from it. The Epistle of the Churches of Vienne and Lyons contains the following:-- _Ep. Vienne. et Lugd_. § iv. Thus too was fulfilled that which was spoken by our Lord; that a time shall come in which every one that killeth you shall think that he offereth God service. [Greek: Eleusetai kairos en o pas ho apokteinas humas doxei latreian prospherein to Theo.] _John_ xvi. 2. Yea, the hour cometh, that every one that killeth you will think he offereth God service. [Greek: All' erchetai hora hina pas ho apokteinas humas, doxae latreian prospherein to Theo.] It is true that there are 'indications of similar discourses' in the Synoptics, but of none containing a trait at all closely resembling this. The chances that precisely the same combination of words ([Greek: ho apokteinas humas doxei latreian prospherein to Theo]) occurred in a lost Gospel must be necessarily very small indeed, especially when we remember that the original saying was probably spoken in Aramaic and not in Greek [Endnote 307:1]. Dr. Keim, in the elaborate monograph mentioned above, decides that Celsus made use of the fourth Gospel. He remarks upon it as curious, that more traces should indeed be found 'both in Celsus and his contemporary Tatian of John than of his two nearest predecessors' [Endnote 307:2]. Of the instances given by Dr. Keim, the first (i. 41, the sign seen by the Baptist) depends on a somewhat doubtful reading ([Greek: para to Ioannae], which should be perhaps [Greek: para to Iordanae]); the second, the demand for a sign localised specially in the temple (i. 67; of. John x. 23, 24), seems fairly to hold good. 'The destination of Jesus alike for good and evil' (iv. 7, 'that those who received it, having been good, should be saved; while those who received it not, having been shown to be bad, should be punished') is indeed an idea peculiarly Johannean and creates a _presumption_ of the use of the Gospel; we ought not perhaps to say more. I can hardly consider the simple allusions to 'flight' ([Greek: pheugein], ii. 9; [Greek: taede kakeise apodedrakenai], i. 62) as necessarily references to the retreat to Ephraim in John xi. 54. So too the expression 'bound' in ii. 9, and the 'conflict with Satan' in vi. 42, ii. 47, seem too vague to be used as proof. Still Volkmar too declares it to be 'notorious' that Celsus was acquainted with the fourth Gospel, alleging i. 67 (as above), ii. 31 (an allusion to the Logos), ii. 36 (a satirical allusion to the issue of blood and water), which passages really seem on the whole to justify the assertion, though not in a quite unqualified form. We ought not to omit to mention that there is a second fragment by Apollinaris, bishop of Hierapolis, besides that to which we have already alluded, and preserved like it in the Paschal Chronicle, which confirms unequivocally the conclusion that he knew and used the fourth Gospel. Amongst other titles that are applied to the crucified Saviour, he is spoken of as 'having been pierced in His sacred side,' as 'having poured out of His side those two cleansing streams, water and blood, word and spirit' [Endnote 308:1]. This incident is recorded only in the fourth Gospel. In like manner when Athenagoras says 'The Father and the Son being one' ([Greek: henos ontos tou Patros kai tou Uiou]), it is probable that he is alluding to John x. 30, 'I and my Father are one,' not to mention an alleged, but perhaps somewhat more doubtful, reference to John xvii. 3 [Endnote 308:2]. But the most decisive witness before we come to Irenaeus is the Muratorian Canon. Here we have the fourth Gospel definitely assigned to its author, and finally established in its place amongst the canonical or authoritative books. It is true that the account of the way in which the Gospel came to be composed is mixed up with legendary matter. According to it the Gospel was written in obedience to a dream sent to Andrew the Apostle, after he and his fellow disciples and bishops had fasted for three days at the request of John. In this dream it was revealed that John should write the narrative subject to the revision of the rest. So the Gospel is the work of an eyewitness, and, though it and the other Gospels differ in the objects of their teaching, all are inspired by the same Spirit. There may perhaps in this be some kernel of historical fact, as the sort of joint authorship or revision to which it points seems to find some support in the concluding verses of the Gospel ('we know that his witness is true'). However this may be, the evidence of the fragment is of more real importance and value, as showing the estimation in which at this date the Gospel was held. It corresponds very much to what is now implied in the word 'canonical,' and indeed the Muratorian fragment presents us with a tentative or provisional Canon, which was later to be amended, completed, and ratified. So far as the Gospels were concerned, it had already reached its final shape. It included the same four which now stand in our Bibles, and the opposition that they met with was so slight, and so little serious, that Eusebius could class them all among the Homologoumena or books that were universally acknowledged. CHAPTER XIII. ON THE STATE OF THE CANON IN THE LAST QUARTER OF THE SECOND CENTURY. I should not be very much surprised if the general reader who may have followed our enquiry so far should experience at this point a certain feeling of disappointment. If he did not know beforehand something of the subject-matter that was to be enquired into, he might not unnaturally be led to expect round assertions, and plain, pointblank, decisive evidence. Such evidence has not been offered to him for the simple reason that it does not exist. In its stead we have collected a great number of inferences of very various degrees of cogency, from the possible and hypothetical, up to strong and very strong probability. Most of our time has been taken up in weighing and testing these details, and in the endeavour to assign to each as nearly as possible its just value. It could not be thought strange if some minds were impatient of such minutiae; and where this objection was not felt, it would still be very pardonable to complain that the evidence was at best inferential and probable. An inference in which there are two or three steps may be often quite as strong as that in which there is only one, and probabilities may mount up to a high degree of what is called moral or practical certainty. I cannot but think that many of those which have been already obtained are of this character. I cannot but regard it as morally or practically certain that Marcion used our third Gospel; as morally or practically certain that all four Gospels were used in the Clementine Homilies; as morally or practically certain that the existence of three at least out of our four Gospels is implied in the writings of Justin; as probable in a lower degree that the four were used by Basilides; as not really disputable (apart from the presumption afforded by earlier writers) that they were widely used in the interval which separates the writings of Justin from those of Irenaeus. All of these seem to me to be tolerably clear propositions. But outside these there seems to be a considerable amount of convergent evidence, the separate items of which are less convincing, but which yet derive a certain force from the mere fact that they are convergent. In the Apostolic Fathers, for example, there are instances of various kinds, some stronger and some weaker; but the important point to notice is that they confirm each other. Every new case adds to the total weight of the evidence, and helps to determine the bearing of those which seem ambiguous. It cannot be too much borne in mind that the evidence with which we have been dealing is cumulative; and as in all other cases of cumulative evidence the subtraction of any single item is of less importance than the addition of a new one. Supposing it to be shown that some of the allusions which are thought to be taken from our Gospels were merely accidental coincidences of language, this would not materially affect the part of the evidence which could not be so explained. Supposing even that some of these allusions could be definitely referred to an apocryphal source, the possibility would be somewhat, but not so very much, increased that other instances which bear resemblance to our Gospels were also in their origin apocryphal. But on the other hand, if a single instance of the use of a canonical Gospel really holds good, it is proof of the existence of that Gospel, and every new instance renders the conclusion more probable, and makes it more and more difficult to account for the phenomena in any other way. The author of 'Supernatural Religion' seems to have overlooked this. He does not seem to have considered the mutual support which the different instances taken together lend to each other. He summons them up one by one, and if any sort of possibility can be shown of accounting for them in any other way than by the use of our Gospels he dismisses them altogether. He makes no allowance for any residual weight they may have. He does not ask which is the more probable hypothesis. If the authentication of a document is incomplete, if the reference of a passage is not certain, he treats it as if it did not exist. He forgets the old story of the faggots, which, weak singly, become strong when combined. His scales will not admit of any evidence short of the highest. Fractional quantities find no place in his reckoning. If there is any flaw, if there is any possible loophole for escape, he does not make the due deduction and accept the evidence with that deduction, but he ignores it entirely, and goes on to the next item just as if he were leaving nothing behind him. This is really part and parcel of what was pointed out at the outset as the fundamental mistake of his method. It is much too forensic. It takes as its model, not the proper canons of historical enquiry, but the procedure of English law. Yet the inappropriateness of such a method is seen as soon as we consider its object and origin. The rules of evidence current in our law courts were constructed specially with a view to the protection of the accused, and upon the assumption that it is better nine guilty persons should escape, than that one innocent person should be condemned. Clearly such rules will be inapplicable to the historical question which of two hypotheses is most likely to be true. The author forgets that the negative hypothesis is just as much a hypothesis as the positive, and needs to be defended in precisely the same manner. Either the Gospels were used, or they were not used. In order to prove the second side of this alternative, it is necessary to show not merely that it is _possible_ that they were not used, but that the theory is the _more probable_ of the two, and accounts better for the facts. But the author of 'Supernatural Religion' hardly professes or attempts to do this. If he comes across a quotation apparently taken from our Gospels he is at once ready with his reply, 'But it may be taken from a lost Gospel.' Granted; it may. But the extant Gospel is there, and the quotation referable to it; the lost Gospel is an unknown entity which may contain anything or nothing. If we admit that the possibility of quotation from a lost Gospel impairs the certainty of the reference to an extant Gospel, it is still quite another thing to argue that it is the more probable explanation and an explanation that the critic ought to accept. In very few cases, I believe, has the author so much as attempted to do this. We might then take a stand here, and on the strength of what can be satisfactorily proved, as well as of what can be probably inferred, claim to have sufficiently established the use and antiquity of the Gospels. This is, I think, quite a necessary conclusion from the data hitherto collected. But there is a further objection to be made to the procedure in 'Supernatural Religion.' If the object were to obtain clear and simple and universally appreciable evidence, I do not hesitate to say that the enquiry ends just where it ought to have begun. Through the faulty method that he has employed the author forgets that he has a hypothesis to make good and to carry through. He forgets that he has to account on the negative theory, just as we account on the positive, for a definite state of things. It may sound paradoxical, but there is really no great boldness in the paradox, when we affirm that at least the high antiquity of the Gospels could be proved, even if not one jot or tittle of the evidence that we have been discussing had existed. Supposing that all those fragmentary remains of the primitive Christian literature that we have been ransacking so minutely had been swept away, supposing that the causes that have handed it down to us in such a mutilated and impaired condition had done their work still more effectually, and that for the first eighty years of the second century there was no Christian literature extant at all; still I maintain that, in order to explain the phenomena that we find after that date, we should have to recur to the same assumptions that our previous enquiry would seem to have established for us. Hitherto we have had to grope our way with difficulty and care; but from this date onwards all ambiguity and uncertainty disappears. It is like emerging out of twilight into the broad blaze of day. There is really a greater disproportion than we might expect between the evidence of the end of the century and that which leads up to it. From Justin to Irenaeus the Christian writings are fragmentary and few, but with Irenaeus a whole body of literature seems suddenly to start into being. Irenaeus is succeeded closely by Clement of Alexandria, Clement by Tertullian, Tertullian by Hippolytus and Origen, and the testimony which these writers bear to the Gospel is marvellously abundant and unanimous. I calculate roughly that Irenaeus quotes directly 193 verses of the first Gospel and 73 of the fourth. Clement of Alexandria and Tertullian must have quoted considerably more, while in the extant writings of Origen the greater part of the New Testament is actually quoted [Endnote 315:1]. But more than this; by the time of Irenaeus the canon of the four Gospels, as we understand the word now, was practically formed. We have already seen that this was the case in the fragment of Muratori. Irenaeus is still more explicit. In the famous passage [Endnote 315:2] which is so often quoted as an instance of the weak-mindedness of the Fathers, he lays it down as a necessity of things that the Gospels should be four in number, neither less nor more:-- 'For as there are four quarters of the world in which we live, as there are also four universal winds, and as the Church is scattered over all the earth, and the Gospel is the pillar and base of the Church and the breath (or spirit) of life, it is likely that it should have four pillars breathing immortality on every side and kindling afresh the life of men. Whence it is evident that the Word, the architect of all things, who sitteth upon the cherubim and holdeth all things together, having been made manifest unto men, gave to us the Gospel in a fourfold shape, but held together by one Spirit. As David, entreating for His presence, saith: Thou that sittest upon the Cherubim show thyself. For the Cherubim are of fourfold visage, and their visages are symbols of the economy of the Son of man.... And the Gospels therefore agree with them over which presideth Jesus Christ. That which is according to John declares His generation from the Father sovereign and glorious, saying thus: In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. And, All things were made by Him, and without Him was not anything made.... But the Gospel according to Luke, as having a sacerdotal character, begins with Zacharias the priest offering incense unto God.... But Matthew records His human generation, saying, The book of the generation of Jesus Christ, the Son of David, the Son of Abraham.... Mark took his beginning from the prophetic Spirit coming down as it were from on high among men. The beginning, he says, of the Gospel according as it is written in Esaias the prophet, &c.' Irenaeus also makes mention of the origin of the Gospels, claiming for their authors the gift of Divine inspiration [Endnote 316:1]:-- 'For after that our Lord rose from the dead and they were endowed with the power of the Holy Ghost coming upon them from on high, they were fully informed concerning all things, and had a perfect knowledge: they went out to the ends of the earth, preaching the Gospel of those good things that God hath given to us and proclaiming heavenly peace to men, having indeed both all in equal measure and each one singly the Gospel of God. So then Matthew among the Jews put forth a written Gospel in their own tongue while Peter and Paul were preaching the Gospel in Rome and founding the Church. After their decease (or 'departure'), Mark, the disciple and interpreter of Peter, himself too has handed down to us in writing the subjects of Peter's preaching. And Luke, the companion of Paul, put down in a book the Gospel preached by him. Afterwards, John, the disciple of the Lord, who also leaned upon His breast, likewise published his Gospel while he dwelt at Ephesus in Asia.' We have not now to determine the exact value of these traditions; what we have rather to notice is the fact that the Gospels are at this time definitely assigned to their reputed authors, and that they are already regarded as containing a special knowledge divinely imparted. It is evident that Irenaeus would not for a moment think of classing any other Gospel by the side of the now strictly canonical four. Clement of Alexandria, who, Eusebius says, 'was illustrious for his writings,' in the year 194 gives a somewhat similar, but not quite identical, account of the composition of the second Gospel [Endnote 317:1]. He differs from Irenaeus in making St. Peter cognisant of the work of his follower. Neither is he quite consistent with himself; in one place he makes St. Peter 'authorise the Gospel to be read in the churches;' in another he says that the Apostle 'neither forbade nor encouraged it' [Endnote 317:2]. These statements have both of them been preserved for us by Eusebius, who also alleges, upon the authority of Clement, that the 'Gospels containing the genealogies were written first.' 'John,' he says, 'who came last, observing that the natural details had been set forth clearly in the Gospels, at the instance of his friends and with the inspiration of the Spirit ([Greek: pneumati theophoraethenta]), wrote a spiritual Gospel' [Endnote 317:3]. Clement draws a distinct line between the canonical and uncanonical Gospels. In quoting an apocryphal saying supposed to have been given in answer to Salome, he says, expressly: 'We do not find this saying in the four Gospels that have been handed down to us, but in that according to the Egyptians' [Endnote 317:4]. Tertullian is still more exclusive. He not only regards the four Gospels as inspired and authoritative, but he makes no use of any extra-canonical Gospel. The Gospels indeed held for him precisely the same position that they do with orthodox Christians now. He says respecting the Gospels: 'In the first place we lay it down that the evangelical document (evangelicum instrumentum [Endnote 318:1]) has for its authors the Apostles, to whom this office of preaching the Gospel was committed by the Lord Himself. If it has also Apostolic men, yet not these alone but in company with Apostles and after Apostles. For the preaching of disciples might have been suspected of a desire for notoriety if it were not supported by the authority of Masters, nay of Christ, who made the Apostles Masters. In fine, of the Apostles, John and Matthew first implant in us faith, Luke and Mark renew it, starting from the same principles, so far as relates to the one God the Creator and His Christ born of the virgin, to fulfil the law and the prophets' [Endnote 318:2]. He grounds the authority of the Gospels upon the fact that they proceed either from Apostles or from those who held close relation to Apostles, like Mark, 'the interpreter of Peter,' and Luke, the companion of Paul [Endnote 318:3]. In another passage he expressly asserts their authenticity [Endnote 318:4], and he claimed to use them and them alone as his weapons in the conflict with heresy [Endnote 318:5]. No less decided is the assertion of Origen, who writes: 'As I have learnt from tradition concerning the four Gospels, which alone are undisputed in the Church of God under heaven, that the first in order of the scripture is that according to Matthew, who was once a publican but afterwards an Apostle of Jesus Christ ... The second is that according to Mark, who wrote as Peter suggested to him ... The third is that according to Luke, the Gospel commended by Paul ... Last of all that according to John' [Endnote 319:1]. And again in his commentary upon the Preface to St. Luke's Gospel he expressly guards against the possibility that it might be thought to have reference to the other (Canonical) Gospels: 'In this word of Luke's "_have taken in hand_" there is a latent accusation of those who without the grace of the Holy Spirit have rushed to the composing of Gospels. Matthew, indeed, and Mark, and John, and Luke, have not "_taken in hand_" to write, but _have written_ Gospels, being full of the Holy Spirit ... The Church has four Gospels; the Heresies have many' [Endnote 319:2]. But besides the Fathers, and without going beyond the bounds of the second century, there is other evidence of the most distinct and important kind for the existence of a canon of the Gospels. Among the various translations of the New Testament one certainly, two very probably, and three perhaps probably, were made in the course of the second century. The old Latin (as distinct from Jerome's revised) version of the Gospels and with them of a considerable portion of the New Testament was, I think it may be said, undoubtedly used by Tertullian and by the Latin translator of Irenaeus, who appears to be quoted by Tertullian, and in that case could not be placed later than 200 A.D. [Endnote 320:1] On this point I shall quote authorities that will hardly be questioned. And first that of a writer who is accustomed to weigh, with the accuracy of true science, every word that he puts down, and who upon this subject is giving the result of a most minute and careful investigation. Speaking of the Latin translation of the New Testament as found in Tertullian he says: 'Although single portions of this, especially passages which are translated in several different ways, may be due to Tertullian himself, still it cannot be doubted that in by far the majority of cases he has followed the text of a version received in his time by the Africans and specially the Carthaginian Christians, and made perhaps long before his time, and that consequently his quotations represent the form of the earliest Latinized Scriptures accepted in those regions' [Endnote 320:2]. Again: 'In the first place we may conclude from the writings of Tertullian, that remarkable Carthaginian presbyter at the close of the second century, that in his time there existed several, perhaps many, Latin translations of the Bible ... Tertullian himself frequently quotes in his writings one and the same passage of Scripture in entirely different forms, which indeed in many cases may be explained by his quoting freely from memory, but certainly not seldom has its ground in the diversity of the translations used at the time' [Endnote 321:1]. On this last point, the unity of the Old Latin version, there is a difference of opinion among scholars, but none as to its date. Thus Dr. Tregelles writes: 'The expressions of Tertullian have been rightly rested on as showing that he knew and recognised _one translation_, and that this version was in several places (in his opinion) opposed to what was found "in Graeco authentico." This version must have been made a sufficiently long time before the age when Tertullian wrote, and before the Latin translator of Irenaeus, for it to have got into general circulation. This leads us back _towards_ the middle of the second century at the latest: how much _earlier_ the version may have been we have no proof; for we are already led back into the time when no records tell us anything respecting the North African Church' [Endnote 321:2]. Dr. Tregelles, it should be remembered, is speaking as a text critic, of which branch of science his works are one of the noblest monuments, and not directly of the history of the Canon. His usual opponent in text critical matters, but an equally exact and trustworthy writer, Dr. Scrivener, agrees with him here both as to the unity of the version and as to its date from the middle of the century [Endnote 321:3]. Dr. Westcott too writes in his well-known and valuable article on the Vulgate in Smith's Dictionary [Endnote 321:4]: 'Tertullian distinctly recognises the general currency of a Latin Version of the New Testament, though not necessarily of every book at present included in the Canon, which even in his time had been able to mould the popular language. This was characterised by a "rudeness" and "simplicity," which seems to point to the nature of its origin.' I do not suppose that the currency at the end of the second century of a Latin version, containing the four Gospels and no others, will be questioned [Endnote 322:1]. With regard to the Syriac version there is perhaps a somewhat greater room to doubt, though Dr. Tregelles begins his account of this version by saying: 'It may stand as an admitted fact that a version of the New Testament in Syriac existed in the second century' [Endnote 322:2]. Dr. Scrivener also says [Endnote 322:3]: 'The universal belief of later ages, and the very nature of the case, seem to render it unquestionable that the Syrian Church was possessed of a translation both of the Old and New Testament, which it used habitually, and for public worship exclusively, from the second century of our era downwards: as early as A.D. 170 [Greek: ho Syros] is cited by Melito on Genesis xxii. 13.' The external evidence, however, does not seem to be quite strong enough to bear out any very positive assertion. The appeal to the Syriac by Melito [Endnote 322:4] is pretty conclusive as to the existence of a Syriac Old Testament, which, being of Christian origin, would probably be accompanied by a translation of the New. But on the other hand, the language of Eusebius respecting Hegesippus ([Greek: ek te tou kath' Hebraious euangeliou kai tou Syriakou ... tina tithaesin]) seems to be rightly interpreted by Routh as having reference not to any '_version_ of the Gospel, but to a separate Syro-Hebraic (?) Gospel' like that according to the Hebrews. In any case the Syriac Scriptures 'were familiarly used and claimed as his national version by Ephraem of Edessa' (299-378 A.D.) as well as by Aphraates in writings dating A.D. 337 and 344 [Endnote 323:1]. A nearer approximation of date would be obtained by determining the age of the version represented by the celebrated Curetonian fragments. There is a strong tendency among critics, which seems rapidly approaching to a consensus, to regard this as bearing the same relation to the Peshito that the Old Latin does to Jerome's Vulgate, that of an older unrevised to a later revised version. The strength of the tendency in this direction may be seen by the very cautious and qualified opinion expressed in the second edition of his Introduction by Dr. Scrivener, who had previously taken a decidedly antagonistic view, and also by the fact that Mr. M'Clellan, who is usually an ally of Dr. Scrivener, here appears on the side of his opponents [Endnote 323:2]. All the writers who have hitherto been mentioned place either the Curetonian Syriac or the Peshito in the second century, and the majority, as we have seen, the Curetonian. Dr. Tregelles, on a comparative examination of the text, affirms that 'the Curetonian Syriac presents such a text as we might have concluded would be current in the second century' [Endnote 323:3]. English text criticism is probably on the whole in advance of Continental; but it may be noted that Bleek (who however was imperfectly acquainted with the Curetonian form of the text) yet asserts that the Syriac version 'belongs without doubt to the second century A.D.' [Endnote 324:1] Reuss [Endnote 324:2] places it at the beginning, Hilgenfeld towards the end [Endnote 324:3], of the third century. The question as to the age of the version is not necessarily identical with that as to the age of the particular form of it preserved in Cureton's fragments. This would hold the same sort of relation to the original text of the version that (e.g.) a, or b, or c--any primitive codex of the version--holds to the original text of the Old Latin. It also appears that the translation into Syriac of the different Gospels, conspicuously of St. Matthew's, was made by different hands and at different times [Endnote 324:4]. Bearing these considerations in mind, we should still be glad to know what answer those who assign the Curetonian text to the second century make to the observation that it contains the reading [Greek: Baethabara] in John i. 28 which is generally assumed to be not older than Origen [Endnote 324:5]. On the other hand, the Curetonian, like the Old Latin, still has in John vii. 8 [Greek: ouk] for [Greek: oupo]--a change which, according to Dr. Scrivener [Endnote 324:6], 'from the end of the third century downwards was very generally and widely diffused.' This whole set of questions needs perhaps a more exhaustive discussion than it has obtained hitherto [Endnote 324:7]. The third version that may be mentioned is the Egyptian. In regard to this Dr. Lightfoot says [Endnote 325:1], that 'we should probably not be exaggerating if we placed one or both of the principal Egyptian versions, the Memphitic and the Thebaic, or at least parts of them, before the close of the second century.' In support of this statement he quotes Schwartz, the principal authority on the subject, 'who will not be suspected of any theological bias.' The historical notices on which the conclusion is founded are given in Scrivener's 'Introduction.' If we are to put a separate estimate upon these, it would be perhaps that the version was made in the second century somewhat more probably than not; it was certainly not made later than the first half of the third [Endnote 325:2]. Putting this version however on one side, the facts that have to be explained are these. Towards the end of the second century we find the four Gospels in general circulation and invested with full canonical authority, in Gaul, at Rome, in the province of Africa, at Alexandria, and in Syria. Now if we think merely of the time that would be taken in the transcription and dissemination of MSS., and of the struggle that works such as the Gospels would have to go through before they could obtain recognition, and still more an exclusive recognition, this alone would tend to overthrow any such theory as that one of the Gospels, the fourth, was not composed before 150 A.D., or indeed anywhere near that date. But this is not by any means all. It is merely the first step in a process that, quite independently of the other external evidence, thrusts the composition of the Gospels backwards and backwards to a date certainly as early as that which is claimed for them. Let us define a little more closely the chronological bearings of the subject. There is a decidedly preponderant probability that the Muratorian fragment was not written much later than 170 A.D. Irenaeus, as we have seen, was writing in the decade 180-190 A.D. But his evidence is surely valid for an earlier date than this. He is usually supposed to have been born about the year 140 A.D. [Endnote 326:1], and the way in which he describes his relations to Polycarp will not admit of a date many years later. But his strong sense of the continuity of Church doctrine and the exceptional veneration that he accords to the Gospels seem alone to exclude the supposition that any of them should have been composed in his own lifetime. He is fond of quoting the 'Presbyters,' who connected his own age with that, if not of the Apostles, yet of Apostolic men. Pothinus, bishop of Lyons, whom he succeeded, was more than ninety years old at the time of his martyrdom in the persecution of A.D. 177 [Endnote 326:2], and would thus in his boyhood be contemporary with the closing years of the last Evangelist. Irenaeus also had before him a number of writings--some, e.g. the works of the Marcosians, in addition to those that have been discussed in the course of this work--in which our Gospels are largely quoted, and which, to say the least, were earlier than his own time of writing. Clement of Alexandria began to flourish, ([Greek: egnorizeto]) [Endnote 327:1], in the reign of Commodus (180-190 A.D.), and had obtained a still wider celebrity as head of the Catechetical School of Alexandria in the time of Severus [Endnote 327:2] (193- 211). The opinions therefore to which he gives expression in his works of this date were no doubt formed at a earlier period. He too appeals to the tradition of which he had been himself a recipient. He speaks of his teachers, 'those blessed and truly memorable men,' one in Greece, another in Magna Graecia, a third in Coele-Syria, a fourth in Egypt, a fifth in Assyria, a sixth in Palestine, to whom the doctrine of the Apostles had been handed down from father to son [Endnote 327:3]. Tertullian is still bolder. In his controversy with Marcion he confidently claims as on his side the tradition of the Apostolic Churches. By it is guaranteed the Gospel of St. Luke which he is defending, and not only that, but the other Gospels [Endnote 327:4]. In one passage Tertullian even goes so far as to send his readers to the Churches of Corinth, Philippi, &c. for the very autographs ('authenticae literae') of St. Paul's Epistles [Endnote 327:5]. But this is merely a characteristic flourish of rhetoric. All for which the statements of Tertullian may safely be said to vouch is, that the Gospels had held their 'prerogative' position within his memory and that of most members of the Church to which he belonged. But the evidence of the Fathers is most decisive when it is unconscious. That the Gospels as used by the Christian writers at the end of the first century, so far from being of recent composition, had already a long history behind them, is nothing less than certain. At this date they exhibit a text which bears the marks of frequent transcription and advanced corruption. 'Origen's,' says Dr. Scrivener [Endnote 328:1], 'is the highest name among the critics and expositors of the early Church; he is perpetually engaged in the discussion of various readings of the New Testament, and employs language in describing the then state of the text, which would be deemed strong if applied even to its present condition with the changes which sixteen more centuries must needs have produced ... Respecting the sacred autographs, their fate or their continued existence, he seems to have had no information, and to have entertained no curiosity: they had simply passed by and were out of his reach. Had it not been for the diversities of copies in all the Gospels on other points (he writes) he should not have ventured to object to the authenticity of a certain passage (Matt. xix. 19) on internal grounds: "But now," saith he, "great in truth has become the diversity of copies, be it from the negligence of certain scribes, or from the evil daring of some who correct what is written, or from those who in correcting add or take away what they think fit."' This is respecting the MSS. of one region only, and now for another [Endnote 328:2]: 'It is no less true to fact than paradoxical in sound, that the worst corruptions to which the New Testament has ever been subjected, originated within a hundred years after it was composed; that Irenaeus and the African Fathers and the whole Western, with a portion of the Syrian Church, used far inferior manuscripts to those employed by Stunica, or Erasmus, or Stephens thirteen centuries later, when moulding the Textus Receptus.' Possibly this is an exaggeration, but no one will maintain that it is a very large exaggeration of the facts. I proceed to give a few examples which serve to bring out the antiquity of the text. And first from Irenaeus. There is a very remarkable passage in the work Against Heresies [Endnote 329:1], bearing not indeed directly upon the Gospels, but upon another book of the New Testament, and yet throwing so much light upon the condition of the text in Irenaeus' time that it may be well to refer to it here. In discussing the signification of the number of the beast in Rev. xiii. 18, Irenaeus already found himself confronted by a variety of reading: some MSS. with which he was acquainted read 616 ([Greek: chis']) for 666 ([Greek: chxs']). Irenaeus himself was not in doubt that the latter was the true reading. He says that it was found in all the 'good and ancient copies,' and that it was further attested by 'those who had seen John face to face.' He thinks that the error was due to the copyists, who had substituted by mistake the letter [Greek: i] for [Greek: x]. He adds his belief that God would pardon those who had done this without any evil motive. Here we have opened out a kind of vista extending back almost to the person of St. John himself. There is already a multiplicity of MSS., and of these some are set apart 'as good and ancient' ([Greek: en pasi tois spoudaiois kai archaiois antigraphois]). The method by which the correct reading had to be determined was as much historical as it is with us at the present day. A not dissimilar state of things is indicated somewhat less explicitly in regard to the first Gospel. In the text of Matt. i. 18 all the Greek MSS., with one exception, read, [Greek: tou de Iaesou Christou hae genesis outos aen], B alone has [Greek: tou de Christou Iaesou]. The Greek of D is wanting at this point, but the Latin, d, reads with the best codices of the Old Latin, the Vulgate, and the Curetonian Syriac, 'Christi autem generatio sic erat' (or an equivalent). Now Irenaeus quotes this passage three times. In the first passage [Endnote 330:1] the original Greek text of Irenaeus has been preserved in a quotation of Germanus, Patriarch of Constantinople (the context also by Anastasius Sinaita, but these words appear to be omitted); and the reading of Germanus corresponds to that of the great mass of MSS. This however is almost certainly false, as the ancient Latin translation of Irenaeus has 'Christi autem generatio,' and it was extremely natural for a copyist to substitute the generally received text, especially in a combination of words that was so familiar. Irenaeus leaves no doubt as to his own reading on the next occasion when he quotes the passage, as he does twice over. Here he says expressly: 'Ceterum, potuerat dicere Matthaeus: _Jesu vero generatio sic erat_; sed praevidens Spiritus sanctus depravatores, et praemuniens contra fraudulentiam eorum, per Matthaeum ait: _Christi autem generatio sic erat_' [Endnote 330:2]. Irenaeus founds an argument upon this directed against the heretics who supposed that the Christus and Jesus were not identical, but that Jesus was the son of Mary, upon whom the aeon Christus afterwards descended. In opposition to these Irenaeus maintains that the Christus and Jesus are one and the same person. There is a division of opinion among modern critics as to which of the two readings is to be admitted into the text; Griesbach, Lachmann, Tischendorf (eighth edition), and Scrivener support the reading of the MSS.; Tregelles, Westcott and Hort, and M'Clellan prefer that of Irenaeus. The presence of this reading in the Old Latin and Curetonian Syriac proves its wide diffusion. At the same time it is clear that Irenaeus himself was aware of the presence of the other reading in some copies which he regarded as bearing the marks of heretical depravation. It is unfortunate that fuller illustration cannot be given from Irenaeus, but the number of the quotations from the Gospels of which the Greek text still remains is not large, and where we have only the Latin interpretation we cannot be sure that the actual text of Irenaeus is before us. Much uncertainty is thus raised. For instance, a doubt is expressed by the editors of Irenaeus whether the words 'without a cause' ([Greek: eikae]--sine caussa) in the quotation of Matt. v. 22 [Endnote 331:1] belong to the original text or not. Probably they did so, as they are found in the Old Latin and Curetonian Syriac and in Western authorities generally. They are wanting however in B, in Origen, and 'in the true copies' according to Jerome, &c. The words are expunged from the sacred text by Lachmann, Tischendorf, Westcott and Hort, and M'Clellan. There is a less weight of authority for their retention. In any case the double reading was certainly current at the end of the second century, as the words are found in Irenaeus and omitted by Tertullian. The elaborately varied readings of Matt. xi. 25-27 and Matt. xix. 16, 17 there can be little doubt are taken from the canonical text. They are both indeed found in a passage (Adv. Haer. i. 20. 2, 3) where Irenaeus is quoting the heretical Marcosians; and various approximations are met with, as we have seen, under ambiguous circumstances in Justin, the Clementine Homilies, and Marcion. But similar approximations are also found in Irenaeus himself (speaking in his own person), in Clement of Alexandria, Origen, and Epiphanius, who are undoubtedly quoting from our Gospels; so that the presence of the variations at that early date is proved, though in the first case they receive none, and in the second very limited, support from the extant MSS. [Endnote 332:1] A variety of reading that was in the first instance accidental seemed to afford a handle either to the orthodox or to heretical parties, and each for a time maintained its own; but with the victory of the orthodox cause the heretical reading gave way, and was finally suppressed before the time at which the extant MSS. were written. These are really conspicuous instances of the confusion of text already existing, but I forbear to press them because, though I do not doubt myself the correctness of the account that has been given of them, still there is just the ambiguity alluded to, and I do not wish to seem to assume the truth of any particular view. For minor variations the text of Irenaeus cannot be used satisfactorily, because it is always doubtful whether the Latin version has correctly reproduced the original. And even in those comparatively small portions where the Greek is still preserved, it has come down to us through the medium of other writers, and we have just had an instance how easily the distinctive features of the text might be obliterated. Neither of these elements of uncertainty exists in the case of Tertullian; and therefore, as the text of his New Testament quotations has been edited in a very exact and careful form, I shall illustrate what has been said respecting the corruptions introduced in the second century chiefly from him. The following may be taken as a few of the instances in which the existence of a variety of reading can be verified by a comparison of Tertullian's text with that of the MSS. The brackets (as before) indicate partial support. Matt. iii. 8. Dignos poenitentiae fructus (_Pudic_. 10). [Greek: Karpous axious taes metanoias] Textus Receptus, L, U, 33, a, g'2, m, Syrr. Crt. and Pst., etc. [Greek: Karpon axion t. met]. B, C (D), [Greek: D], 1, etc.; Vulg., b, c, d, f, ff'1, Syr. Hcl., Memph., Theb., Iren., Orig., etc. [Tertullian himself has the singular in _Hermog._ 12, so that he seems to have had both readings in his copies.] Matt. v. 4, 5. The received order 'beati lugentes' and 'beati mites' is followed in _Pat_. 11 [Rönsch p. 589 and Tisch., correcting Treg.], So [Hebrew: Aleph symbol], B, C, rel., b, f, Syrr. Pst. and Hcl., Memph., Arm., Aeth. Order inverted in D, 33, Vulg., a, c, ff'1, g'1.2, h, k, l, Syr. Crt., Clem., Orig., Eus., Hil. Matt. v. 16. 'Luceant opera vestra' for 'luceat lux vestra,' Tert. (bis). So Hil., Ambr., Aug., Celest. [see above, p. 134] against all MSS. and versions. Matt. v. 28. Qui viderit ad concupiscentiam, etc. This verse is cited six times by Tertullian, and Rönsch says (p. 590) that 'in these six citations almost every variant of the Greek text is represented.' Matt. v. 48. Qui est in caelis: [Greek: ho en tois ouranois], Textus Receptus, with [Greek: Delta symbol], E'2, rel., b, c, d, g'1, h, Syrr. Crt. and Pst., Clem., [Greek: ho ouranios], [Hebrew: Aleph symbol], B, D'2, Z, and i, 33, Vulg., a, f, etc. Matt. vi. 10. Fiat voluntas tua in caelis et in terra, omitting 'sicut.' So D, a, b, c, Aug. (expressly, 'some codices'). Matt. xi. ii. Nemo major inter natos feminarum Joanne baptizatore. 'The form of this citation, which neither corresponds with Matt. xi. 11 nor with Luke vii. 28, coincides almost exactly with the words which in both the Greek and Latin text of the Codex Bezae form the conclusion of Luke vii. 26, [Greek: [hoti] oudeis meizon en gennaetois gunaikon [prophaetaes] Ioannou tou baptistou]' (Rönsch, p. 608). Matt. xiii. 15. Sanem: [Greek: iasômai], K, U, X, [Greek: Delta], I; Latt. (exc. d), Syr. Crt.; [Greek: iasomai], B, C, D, [Hebrew: Aleph symbol], rel. Matt. xv. 26. Non est (only), so Eus. in Ps. 83; [Greek: exestin], D, a, b, c, ff, g'1, 1, Syr. Crt., Orig., Hil.; [Greek: ouk estin kalon], B, C, [Hebrew aleph], rel., Vulg., c, f, g'2, k, Orig. There are of course few quotations that can be distinctly identified as taken from St. Mark, but among these may be noticed:-- Mark i. 24. Scimus: [Greek: oidamen se], [Hebrew aleph], L, [Greek: Delta], Memph., Iren., Orig., Eus.; [Greek: oida se tis ei], A, B, C, D, rel., Latt., Syrr. Mark ix. 7. Hunc audite: [Greek: autou akouete], A, X, rel., b, f, Syrr.; [Greek: akouete autou], [Hebrew: aleph] B, C, D, L, a, c, ff'1, etc. [This may be however from Matt. xvii. 5, where Tertullian's reading has somewhat stronger support.] The variations in quotations from St. Luke have been perhaps sufficiently illustrated in the chapter on Marcion. We may therefore omit this Gospel and pass to St. John. A very remarkable reading meets us at the outset. John i. 13. Non ex sanguine nec ex voluntate carnis nec ex voluntate viri, sed ex deo natus est. The Greek of all the MSS. and Versions, with the single exception of b of the Old Latin, is [Greek: oi egennaethaesan]. A sentence is thus applied to Christ that was originally intended to be applied to the Christian. Tertullian (_De Carne Christ._ 19, 24), though he also had the right reading before him, boldly accuses the Valentinians of a falsification, and lays stress upon the reading which he adopts as proof of the veritable birth of Christ from a virgin. The same text is found in b (Codex Veronensis) of the Old Latin, Pseudo- Athanasius, the Latin translator of Origen's commentary on St. Matthew, in Augustine, and three times in Irenaeus. The same codex has, like Tertullian, the singular ex sanguine for the plural [Greek: ex ahimaton]: so Eusebius and Hilary. John iii. 36. Manebit (=[Greek: meneî], for [Greek: ménei]). So b, e, g, Syr. Pst., Memph., Aeth., Iren., Cypr.; against a, c, d, f, ff, Syrr. Crt. and Hcl., etc. John v. 3, 4. The famous paragraph which describes the moving of the waters of the pool of Bethesda was found in Tertullian's MS. It is also found in the mass of MSS., in the Old Latin and Vulgate, in Syrr. Pst. and Jer., and in some MSS. of Memph. It is omitted in [Hebrew: Aleph symbol], B, C, D (v. 4), f, l, Syr. Crt., Theb., Memph. (most MSS.). Tertullian gives the name of the pool as Bethsaida with B, Vulg., c, Syr. Hcl., Memph. Most of the authorities read [Greek: baethesda]. [Greek: baethzatha, baezatha], Berzeta, Belzatha, and Betzeta are also found. John v. 43. Recepistis, perf. for pres. ([Greek: lambanete]). So a, b, Iren., Vigil., Ambr., Jer. John vi. 39. Non perdam ex eo quicquam. Here 'quicquam' is an addition (=[Greek: maeden]), found in D, a, b, ff, Syr. Crt. John vi. 51. Et panis quem ego dedero pro salute mundi, caro mea est. This almost exactly corresponds with the reading of [Hebrew: Aleph], [Greek: ho artos hon ego doso huper taes tou kosmou zoaes, hae sarx mou estin]. Similarly, but with inversion of the last two clauses ([Greek: hae sarx mou estin huper taes tou kosmou zoaes]), B, C, D and T, 33, Vulg., a, b, c, e, m, Syr. Crt., Theb., Aeth., Orig., Cypr. The received text is [Greek: kai ho artos [de] dae ego doso, hae sarx mou estin aen ego doso huper taes tou kosmou zoaes], after E, G, H, K, M, S, etc. John xii. 30. Venit (= [Greek: aelthen] for [Greek: gegonen]), with D (Tregelles), [also a, b, l, n (?), Vulg. (_fuld_.), Hil., Victorin.; Rönsch]. The instances that have been here given are all, or nearly all, false readings on the part of Tertullian. It is, of course, only as such that they are in point for the present enquiry. Some few of those mentioned have been admitted into the text by certain modern editors. Thus, on Matt. v. 4, 5 Tertullian's reading finds support in Westcott and Hort: and M'Clellan, against Tischendorf and Tregelles. [This instance perhaps should not be pressed. I leave it standing, because it shows interesting relations between Tertullian and the various forms of the Old Latin.] The passage omitted in John v. 3, 4 is argued for strenuously by Mr. M'Clellan, with more hesitation by Dr. Scrivener, and in 'Supernatural Religion' (sixth edition), against Tregelles, Tischendorf, Milligan, Lightfoot, Westcott and Hort. In the same passage Bethsaida is read by Lachmann (margin) and by Westcott and Hort. In John vi. 51 the reading of Tertullian and the Sinaitic Codex is defended by Tischendorf; the approximate reading of B, C, D, &c. is admitted by Lachmann, Tregelles, Milligan, Westcott and Hort, and the received text has an apologist in Mr. M'Clellan (with Tholuck and Wordsworth). On these points then it should be borne in mind that Tertullian _may_ present the true reading; on all the others he is pretty certainly wrong. Let us now proceed to analyse roughly these erroneous (in three cases _doubtfully_ erroneous) readings. We shall find [Endnote 336:1] that Tertullian-- _Agrees with_ _Differs from_ x (Codex Sinaiticus) in Mark | in Matt. iii. 18, v. 16, v. 48, i. 2 4, John vi. 51. | vi. 10, xi. 11, xiii. 15, xv. | 26, Mark ix. 7, John i. 13, | v. 3, 43, v. 43, vi. 39, xii. 30. A (Codex Alexandrinus) in |A in Mark i. 24, John i. 13, Mark ix. 7, John v. 3, 4. | v. 43, vi. 39, xii. 30. B (Codex Vaticanus) in John |B in Matt. iii. 8, v. 16, v. 48, vi. v. 2, (vi. 51). | 10, xi. 11, xiii. 15, xv. 26, | Mark i. 24, ix. 7, John i. 13, | v. 3,4, V. 43, vi. 39, xii. 30. C (Codex Ephraemi--somewhat |C in Matt. iii. 8, xi. 11, xiii. fragmentary) in John | 15, xv. 26, Mark i. 24, ix. 7, (vi. 51). | John i. 13, v. 3, 4, vi. 39. D (Codex Bezae--in some |D in Matt. (iii. 8), v. 16, v. 48, places wanting) in Matt. vi. | xiii. 15, Mark i. 24, ix. 7, 10, Xi. 11, (xv. 26), John (vi. | John i. 13, iii. 36, v. 4, v. 43. 51), xii. 30. | | GREEK FATHERS. | Clement of Alexandria, in Matt. | v. 16, v. 48. | Origen, in Matt. (xv. 26), Mark |Origen, in Matt. iii. 8, (xv. 26), i. 24, John i. 13 (Latin trans- | lator), (vi. 51). | Eusebius, in Matt. xv. 26, Mark | i. 24, John i. 13 (partially). | | LATIN FATHERS. | Irenaeus, in Mark i. 24, John |Irenaeus in Matt. iii. 8. i. 13 (ter), iii. 36, v. 43. | Cyprian, in John iii. 36, (vi. 51). | Augustine, in Matt. v. 16, vi. 10. | Ambrose, in Matt. v. 16, John v. 43. | Hilary, in Matt. v. 16, (xv. 26), | John xii. 30. | Others, in Matt. v. 16, v. 48, | John i. 13, v. 43, xii. 30. | | VERSIONS. | Old Latin-- | a (Codex Vercellensis), in Matt. |a, in Matt. v. 16, v. 48, xi. 11, (iii. 8), vi. 10, xiii. 15, (xv. | Mark i. 24, ix. 7, John i. 13, 26), John v. 3, 4, v. 43, (vi. | iii. 36. 51), xii. 30. | b (Codex Veronensis), in Matt. |b, in Matt. iii. 8, v. 16, xi. 11, v. 48, vi. 10, xiii. 15, (xv. 36), | Mark i. 24. Mark ix. 7, John i. 13, | iii. 36, v. 3, 4, v. 43, | (vi. 51), xii. 30. | c (Codex Colbertinus), in Matt. |c, in Matt. iii. 8, v. 16, xi. 11, v. 48, vi. 10, xiii. 15, (xv. 26), | Mark i. 24, ix. 7, John i. 13, John v. 3, 4, (vi. 51). | iii. 36, V. 43, vi. 39, xii. 30. f (Codex Brixianus), in Matt. |f, in Matt. iii. 8, v. 16, v. 48, xiii. 15, Mark ix. 7. | vi. 10, xi. 10, xv. 26, Mark | i. 24, John i. 13, iii. 36, v. 3, | 4, v. 43, vi. 39, vi. 51, xii. 30. Other codices, in Matt. iii. 8, |Other codices, in Matt. iii. 8, vi. 10, Xiii. 5, (xv. 26), John | v. 16, v. 48, vi. 10, xi. 11, iii. 36, v. 3, 4, vi. 39, (vi. 51),| Mark i. 24, ix. 7, John i. 13, xii. 30. | iii. 36, v. 3, 4, v. 43, vi. 39, | vi. 51, xii. 30. Vulgate, in Matt. xiii. 15, John |Vulgate, in Matt. iii. 8, v. 16, v. 3, 4, (vi. 51), xii. 30 | v. 48, vi. 10, xi. 11, xv. 26, (_fuld._). | Mark i. 24, ix. 7, John i. 13, | iii. 36, v. 43, vi. 39. Syriac-- | Syr. Crt. (fragmentary), in |Syr. Crt., in Matt. v. 16, vi. 10, Matt. iii. 8, v. 48, xiii. 15, | xi. 11, John (i. 13, ? Tregelles) (xv. 26), John (i. 13, ? Crowfoot),| iii. 36, v. 3, 4, v. 43. vi. 39, (vi. 51.). | Syr. Pst., in Matt. iii. 8, v. 48, |Syr. Pst., in Matt. vi. 10, Mark Mark ix. 7, John iii. 36, v. 3, 4. | i. 24, John i. 13, (vi. 51), | xii. 30 [The evidence of this and the following versions is only given where it is either expressly stated or left to be clearly inferred by the editors.] Egyptian-- Thebaic, in John (vi. 51). |Thebaic, in Matt. iii. 8, v. 16, | Mark ix. 7, John v. 3, 4. Memphitic, in Mark i. 24, John |Memphitic, in Matt. iii. 8, v. iii. 36. | 16, (v. 48), Mark ix. 7, John | v. 3, 4, vi. 51. Summing up the results numerically they would be something of this kind:-- UNCIAL MSS. [Hebrew: A B C D Alef] Agreement 2 2 2 1 5 Difference 13 5 14 9 10 GREEK FATHERS. Clement of Alexandria. Origen. Eusebius. Agreement 1 4 3 Difference 0 2 0 LATIN FATHERS. Irenaeus. Cyprian. Augustine. Ambrose. Hilary. Others. Agreement 4 2 2 2 3 5 Difference 1 0 0 0 0 0 VERSIONS. OLD LATIN. VULGATE. a b c f rel. Agreement 8 11 6 2 9 4 Difference 7 4 10 14 14 12 SYRIAC. EGYPTIAN. Crt. Pst. Theb. Memph. Agreement 7 5 1 2 Difference 7 5 4 6 Now the phenomena here, as on other occasions when we have had to touch upon text criticism, are not quite simple and straightforward. It must be remembered too that our observations extend only over a very narrow area. Within that area they are confined to the cases where Tertullian has _gone wrong_; whereas, in order to anything like a complete induction, all the cases of various reading ought to be considered. Some results, however, of a rough and approximate kind may be said to be reached; and I think that these will be perhaps best exhibited if, premising that they are thus rough and approximate, we throw them into the shape of a genealogical tree. Tert. b \ / \/ O.L. (a.c. &c.) \ / \/ Syr. Crt. \ / Tert. O.L.\ / \/ Greek Fathers. / \ Tert. O.L./ \ Syr. Crt./ \ / \ / \ / \ / Best Alexandrine Authorities. \ / \ \ / Western. \ / \ Greek Fathers / \ Memph. Theb. / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / || Alexandrine. || Western. || /\ The Sacred Autographs. In accordance with the sketch here given we may present the history of the text, up to the time when it reached Tertullian, thus. First we have the sacred autographs, which are copied for some time, we need not say immaculately, but without change on the points included in the above analysis. Gradually a few errors slip in, which are found especially in the Egyptian, versions and in the works of some Alexandrine and Palestinian Fathers. But in time a wider breach is made. The process of corruption becomes more rapid. We reach at last that strange document which, through more or less remote descent, became the parent of the Curetonian Syriac on the one hand and of the Old Latin on the other. These two lines severally branch off. The Old Latin itself divides. One of its copies in particular (b) seems to represent a text that has a close affinity to that of Tertullian, and among the group of manuscripts to which it belongs is that which Tertullian himself most frequently and habitually used. Strictly speaking indeed there can be no true genealogical tree. The course of descent is not clear and direct all the way. There is some confusion and some crossing and recrossing of the lines. Thus, for instance, there is the curious coincidence of Tertullian with [Hebrew: Aleph], a member of a group that had long seemed to be left behind, in John vi. 51. This however, as it is only on a point of order and that in a translation, may very possibly be accidental; I should incline to think that the reading of the Greek Codex from which Tertullian's Latin was derived agreed rather with that of B, C, D, &c., and these phenomena would increase the probability that these manuscripts and Tertullian had really preserved the original text. If that were the case--and it is the conclusion arrived at by a decided majority of the best editors--there would then be no considerable difficulty in regard to the relation between Tertullian and the five great Uncials, for the reading of Mark ix. 7 is of much less importance. Somewhat more difficult to adjust would be Tertullian's relations to the different forms of the Old Latin and Curetonian Syriac. In one instance, Matt. xi. 11 (or Luke vii. 26), Tertullian seems to derive his text from the Dd branch rather than the b branch of the Old Latin. In another (Matt. iii. 8) he seems to overleap b and most copies of the Old Latin altogether and go to the Curetonian Syriac. How, too, did he come to have the paraphrastic reading of Matt. v. 16 which is found in no MSS. or versions but in Justin (approximately), Clement of Alexandria, and several Latin Fathers? The paraphrase might naturally enough occur to a single writer here or there, but the extent of the coincidence is remarkable. Perhaps we are to see here another sign of the study bestowed by the Fathers upon the writings of their predecessors leading to an unconscious or semi-conscious reproduction of their deviations. It is a noticeable fact that in regard to the order of the clauses in Matt. v. 4, 5, Tertullian has preserved what is probably the right reading along with b alone, the other copies of the Old Latin (all except the revised f) with the Curetonian Syriac having gone wrong. On the whole the complexities and cross relations are less, and the genealogical tree holds good to a greater extent, than we might have been prepared for. The hypothesis that Tertullian used a manuscript in the main resembling b of the Old Latin satisfies most elements of the problem. But the merest glance at these phenomena must be enough to show that the Tübingen theory, or any theory which attributes a late origin to our Gospels, is out of the question. To bring the text into the state in which it is found in the writings of Tertullian, a century is not at all too long a period to allow. In fact I doubt whether any subsequent century saw changes so great, though we should naturally suppose that corruption would proceed at an advancing rate for every fresh copy that was made. The phenomena that have to be accounted for are not, be it remembered, such as might be caused by the carelessness of a single scribe. They are spread over whole groups of MSS. together. We can trace the gradual accessions of corruption at each step as we advance in the history of the text. A certain false reading comes in at such a point and spreads over all the manuscripts that start from that; another comes in at a further stage and vitiates succeeding copies there; until at last a process of correction and revision sets in; recourse is had to the best standard manuscripts, and a purer text is recovered by comparison with these. It is precisely such a text that is presented by the Old Latin Codex f, which, we find accordingly, shows a maximum of difference from Tertullian. A still more systematic revision, though executed--if we are to judge from the instances brought to our notice--with somewhat more reserve, is seen in Jerome's Vulgate. It seems unnecessary to dilate upon this point. I will only venture to repeat the statement which I made at starting; that if the whole of the Christian literature for the first three quarters of the second century could be blotted out, and Irenaeus and Tertullian alone remained, as well as the later manuscripts with which to compare them, there would still be ample proof that the latest of our Gospels cannot overstep the bounds of the first century. The abundant indications of internal evidence are thus confirmed, and the age and date of the Synoptic Gospels, I think we may say, within approximate limits, established. But we must not forget that there is a double challenge to be met. The first part of it--that which relates to the evidence for the existence of the Gospels--has been answered. It remains to consider how far the external evidence for the Gospels goes to prove their authenticity. It may indeed well be asked how the external evidence can be expected to prove the authenticity of these records. It does so, to a considerable extent, indirectly by throwing them back into closer contact with the facts. It also tends to establish the authority in which they were held, certainly in the last quarter of the second century, and very probably before. By this time the Gospels were acknowledged to be all that is now understood by the word 'canonical.' They were placed upon the same footing as the Old Testament Scriptures. They were looked up to with the same reverence and regarded as possessing the same Divine inspiration. We may trace indeed some of the steps by which this position was attained. The [Greek: gegraptai] of the Epistle of Barnabas, the public reading of the Gospels in the churches mentioned by Justin, the [Greek: to eiraemenon] of Tatian, the [Greek: guriakai graphai] of Dionysius of Corinth, all prepare the way for the final culmination in the Muratorian Canon and Irenaeus. So complete had the process been that Irenaeus does not seem to know of a time when the authority of the Gospels had been less than it was to him. Yet the process had been, of course, gradual. The canonical Gospels had to compete with several others before they became canonical. They had to make good their own claims and to displace rival documents; and they succeeded. It is a striking instance of the 'survival of the fittest.' That they were really the fittest is confirmed by nearly every fragment of the lost Gospels that remains, but it would be almost sufficiently proved by the very fact that they survived. In this indirect manner I think that the external evidence bears out the position assigned to the canonical Gospels. It has preserved to us the judgment of the men of that time, and there is a certain relative sense in which the maxim, 'Securus judicat orbis terrarum,' is true. The decisions of an age, especially decisions such as this where quite as much depended upon pious feeling as upon logical reasoning, are usually sounder than the arguments that are put forward to defend them. We should hardly endorse the arguments by which Irenaeus proves _a priori_ the necessity of a 'four-fold Gospel,' but there is real weight in the fact that four Gospels and no more were accepted by him and others like him. It is difficult to read without impatience the rough words that are applied to the early Christian writers and to contrast the self-complacency in which our own superior knowledge is surveyed. If there is something in which they are behind us, there is much also in which we are behind them. Among the many things for which Mr. Arnold deserves our gratitude he deserves it not least for the way in which he has singled out two sentences, one from St. Augustine and the other from the Imitation, 'Domine fecisti nos ad te et irrequietum est cor nostrum donec requiescat in te,' and, 'Esto humilis et pacificus et erit tecum, Jesus.' The men who could write thus are not to be despised. But beyond their more general testimony it is not clear what else the early Fathers could be expected to do. They could not prove-- at least their written remains that have come down to us could not prove--that the Gospels were really written by the authors traditionally assigned to them. When we say that the very names of the first two Evangelists are not mentioned before a date that may be from 120-166 (or 155) A.D. and the third and fourth not before 170-175 A.D., this alone is enough, without introducing other elements of doubt, to show that the evidence must needs be inconclusive. If the author of 'Supernatural Religion' undertook to show this, he undertook a superfluous task. So much at least, Mr. Arnold was right in saying, 'might be stated in a sentence and proved in a page.' There is a presumption in favour of the tradition, and perhaps, considering the relation of Irenaeus to Polycarp and of Polycarp to St. John, we may say, a fairly strong one; but we need now-a-days, to authenticate a document, closer evidence than this. The cases are not quite parallel, and the difference between them is decidedly in favour of Irenaeus, but if Clement of Alexandria could speak of an Epistle written about 125 A.D. is the work of the apostolic Barnabas the companion of St. Paul [Endnote 346:1], we must not lay too much stress upon the direct testimony of Irenaeus when he attributes the fourth Gospel to the Apostle St. John. These are points for a different set of arguments to determine. The Gospel itself affords sufficient indications as to the position of its author. For the conclusion that he was a Palestinian Jew, who had lived in Palestine before the destruction of Jerusalem, familiar with the hopes and expectations of his people, and himself mixed up with the events which he describes, there is evidence of such volume and variety as seems exceedingly difficult to resist. As I have gone into this subject at length elsewhere [Endnote 347:1], and as, so far as I can see, no new element has been introduced into the question by 'Supernatural Religion,' I shall not break the unity of the present work by considering the objections brought in detail. I am very ready to recognise the ability with which many of these are stated, but it is the ability of the advocate rather than of the impartial critic. There is a constant tendency to draw conclusions much in excess of the premisses. An observation, true in itself with a certain qualification and restriction, is made in an unqualified form, and the truth that it contains is exaggerated. Above all, wherever there is a margin of ignorance, wherever a statement of the Evangelist is not capable of direct and exact verification, the doubt is invariably given against him and he is brought in guilty either of ignorance or deception. I have no hesitation in saying that if the principles of criticism applied to the fourth Gospel--not only by the author of 'Supernatural Religion,' but by some other writers of repute, such as Dr. Scholten--were applied to ordinary history or to the affairs of every-day life, much that is known actually to have happened could be shown on _a priori_ grounds to be impossible. It is time that the extreme negative school should justify more completely their canons of criticism. As it is, the laxity of these repels many a thoughtful mind quite as firmly convinced as they can be of the necessity of free enquiry and quite as anxious to reconcile the different sides of knowledge. The question is not one merely of freedom or tradition, but of reason and logic; and until there is more agreement as to what is reasonable and what the laws of logic demand, the arguments are apt to run in parallel lines that never meet [Endnote 348:1]. But, it is said, 'Miracles require exceptional evidence.' True: exceptional evidence they both require and possess; but that evidence is not external. Incomparably the strongest attestation to the Gospel narratives is that which they bear to themselves. Miracles have exceptional evidence because the non-miraculous portions of the narrative with which they are bound up are exceptional. These carry their truth stamped upon their face, and that truth is reflected back upon the miracles. It is on the internal investigation of the Gospels that the real issue lies. And this is one main reason why the belief of mankind so little depends upon formal apologetics. We can all feel the self- evidential force of the Gospel story; but who shall present it adequately in words? We are reminded of the fate of him who thought the ark of God was falling and put out his hand to steady it--and, for his profanity, died. It can hardly be said that good intentions would be a sufficient justification, because that a man should think himself fit for the task would be in itself almost a sufficient sign that he was mistaken. It is not indeed quite incredible that the qualifications should one day be found. We seem almost to see that, with a slight alteration of circumstances, a little different training in early life, such an one has almost been among us. There are passages that make us think that the author of 'Parochial and Plain Sermons' might have touched even the Gospels with cogency that yet was not profane. But the combination of qualities required is such as would hardly be found for centuries together. The most fine and sensitive tact of piety would be essential. With it must go absolute sincerity and singleness of purpose. Any dash of mere conventionalism or self-seeking would spoil the whole. There must be that clear illuminated insight that is only given to those who are in a more than ordinary sense 'pure in heart.' And on the other hand, along with these unique spiritual qualities must go a sound and exact scientific training, a just perception of logical force and method, and a wide range of knowledge. One of the great dangers and drawbacks to the exercise of the critical faculty is that it tends to destroy the spiritual intuition. And just in like manner the too great reliance upon this intuition benumbs and impoverishes the critical faculty. Yet, in a mind that should present at all adequately the internal evidence of the Gospels, both should co-exist in equal balance and proportion. We cannot say that there will never be such a mind, but the asceticism of a life would be a necessary discipline for it to go through, and that such a life as the world has seldom seen. In the meantime the private Christian may well be content with what he has. 'If any man will do His will, he shall know of the doctrine whether it be of God.' CHAPTER XIV. CONCLUSION. And now that we have come to the end of the purely critical portion of this enquiry, I may perhaps be allowed to say a few words on its general tendency and bearing. As critics we have only the critical question to deal with. Certain evidence is presented to us which it is our duty to weigh and test by reference to logical and critical laws. It must stand or fall on its own merits, and any considerations brought in from without will be irrelevant to the question at issue. But after this is done we may fairly look round and consider how our conclusion affects other conclusions and in what direction it is leading us. If we look at 'Supernatural Religion' in this way we shall see that its tendency is distinctly marked. Its attack will fall chiefly upon the middle party in opinion. And it will play into the hands of the two extreme parties on either side. There can be little doubt that indirectly it will help the movement that is carrying so many into Ultramontanism, and directly it is of course intended to win converts to what may perhaps be called comprehensively Secularism. Now it is certainly true that the argument from consequences is one that ought to be applied with great caution. Yet I am not at all sure that it has not a real basis in philosophy as well as in nature. The very existence of these two great parties, the Ultramontane and the Secularist, over against each other, seems to be it kind of standing protest against either of them. If Ultramontanism is true, how is it that so many wise and good men openly avow Secularism? If 'Secularism is true, how is it that so many of the finest and highest minds take refuge from it--a treacherous refuge, I allow--in Ultramontanism? There is something in this more than a mere defective syllogism--more than an insufficient presentation of the evidence. Truth, in the widest sense, is that which is in accordance with the laws and conditions of human nature. But where beliefs are so directly antithetical as they are here, the repugnance and resistance which each is found to cause in so large a number of minds is in itself a proof that those laws and conditions are insufficiently complied with. To the spectator, standing outside of both, this will seem to be easily explained: the one sacrifices reason to faith; the other sacrifices faith to reason. But there is abundant evidence to show that both faith (meaning thereby the religious emotions) and reason are ineradicable elements in the human mind. That which seriously and permanently offends against either cannot be true. For creatures differently constituted from man--either all reason or all pure disembodied emotion--it might be otherwise; but, for man, as he is, the epithet 'true' seems to be excluded from any set of propositions that has such results. Even in the more limited sense, and confining the term to propositions purely intellectual, there is, I think we must say, a presumption against the truth of that which involves so deep and wide a chasm in human nature. Without importing teleology, we should naturally expect that the intellect and the emotions should be capable of working harmoniously together. They do so in most things: why should they not in the highest matters of all? If the one set of opinions is anti-rational and the other anti-emotional, as we see practically that they are, is not this in itself an antecedent presumption against either of them? It may not be enough to prove at once that the syllogism is defective: still less is it a sufficient warrant for establishing an opposite syllogism. But it does seem to be enough to give the scientific reasoner pause, and to make him go over the line of his argument again and again and yet again, with the suspicion that there is (as how well there may be!) a flaw somewhere. It would not, I think, be difficult to point out such flaws [Endnote 352:1]--some of them, as it appears, of considerable magnitude. But the subject is one that would take us far away out of our present course, and for its proper development would require a technical knowledge of the processes of physical science which I do not possess. Leaving this on one side, and regarding them only in the abstract, the considerations stated above seem to point to the necessity of something of the nature of a compromise. And yet there is, strictly speaking, no such thing as compromise in opinions. Compromise belongs to the world of practice; it is only admitted by an illicit process into the world of thought. The author of 'Supernatural Religion' is doubtless right in deprecating that 'illogical zeal which flings to the pursuing wolves of doubt and unbelief, scrap by scrap,' all the distinctive doctrines of Christianity. Belief, it is true, must be ultimately logical to stand. It must have an inner cohesion and inter- dependence. It must start from a fixed principle. This has been, and still is, the besetting weakness of the theology of mediation. It is apt to form itself merely by stripping off what seem to be excrescences from the outside, and not by radically reconstructing itself, on a firmly established basis, from within. The difficulty in such a process is to draw the line. There is a delusive appearance of roundness and completeness in the creeds of those who either accept everything or deny everything: though, even here, there is, I think we may say, always, some little loophole left of belief or of denial, which will inevitably expand until it splits and destroys the whole structure. But the moment we begin to meet both parties half way, there comes in that crucial question: Why do you accept just so much and no more? Why do you deny just so much and no more? [Endnote 354:1] It must, in candour, be confessed that the synthetic formula for the middle party in opinion has not yet been found. Other parties have their formulae, but none that will really bear examination. _Quod semper, quod ubique, quod ab omnibus_, would do excellently if there was any belief that had been held 'always, everywhere, and by all,' if no discoveries had been made as to the facts, and if there had been no advance in the methods of knowledge. The ultimate universality and the absolute uniformity of physical antecedents has a plausible appearance until it is seen that logically carried out it reduces men to machines, annihilates responsibility, and involves conclusions on the assumption of the truth of which society could not hold together for a single day. If we abandon these Macedonian methods for unloosing the Gordian knot of things and keep to the slow and laborious way of gradual induction, then I think it will be clear that all opinions must be held on the most provisional tenure. A vast number of problems will need to be worked out before any can be said to be established with a pretence to finality. And the course which the inductive process is taking supplies one of the chief 'grounds of hope' to those who wish to hold that middle position of which I have been speaking. The extreme theories which from time to time have been advanced have not been able to hold their ground. No doubt they may have done the good that extreme theories usually do, in bringing out either positively or negatively one side or another of the truth; but in themselves they have been rejected as at once inadequate and unreal solutions of the facts. First we had the Rationalism (properly so called) of Paulus, then the Mythical hypothesis of Strauss, and after that the 'Tendenz-kritik' of Baur. But what candid person does not feel that each and all of these contained exaggerations more incredible than the difficulties which they sought to remove? There has been on each of the points raised a more or less definite ebb in the tide. The moderate conclusion is seen to be also the reasonable conclusion. And not least is this the case with the enquiry on which we have been just engaged. The author of 'Supernatural Religion' has overshot the mark very much indeed. There is, as we have seen, a certain truth in some things that he has said, but the whole sum of truth is very far from bearing out his conclusions. When we look up from these detailed enquiries and lift up our eyes to a wider horizon we shall be able to relegate them to their true place. The really imposing witness to the truth of Christianity is that which is supplied by history on the one hand, and its own internal attractiveness and conformity to human nature on the other. Strictly speaking, perhaps, these are but two sides of the same thing. It is in history that the laws of human nature assume a concrete shape and expression. The fact that Christianity has held its ground in the face of such long-continued and hostile criticism is a proof that it must have some deeply-seated fitness and appropriateness for man. And this goes a long way towards saying that it is true. It is a theory of things that is being constantly tested by experience. But the results of experience are often expressed unconsciously. They include many a subtle indication that the mind has followed but cannot reproduce to itself in set terms. All the reasons that go to form a judge's decision do not appear in his charge. Yet there we have a select and highly-trained mind working upon matter that presents no very great degree of complexity. When we come to a question so wide, so subtle and complex as Christianity, the individual mind ceases to be competent to sit in judgment upon it. It becomes necessary to appeal to a much more extended tribunal, and the verdict of that tribunal will be given rather by acts than in words. Thus there seems to have always been a sort of half-conscious feeling in men's minds that there was more in Christianity than the arguments for it were able to bring out. In looking back over the course that apologetics have taken, we cannot help being struck by a disproportion between the controversial aspect and the practical. It will probably on the whole be admitted that the balance of argument has in the past been usually somewhat on the side of the apologists; but the argumentative victory has seldom if ever been so decisive as quite to account for the comparatively undisturbed continuity of the religious life. It was in the height of the Deist controversy that Wesley and Whitfield began to preach, and they made more converts by appealing to the emotions than probably Butler did by appealing to the reason. A true philosophy must take account of these phenomena. Beliefs which issue in that peculiarly fine and chastened and tender spirit which is the proper note of Christianity, cannot, under any circumstances, be dismissed as 'delusion.' Surely if any product of humanity is true and genuine, it is to be found here. There are indeed truths which find a response in our hearts without apparently going through any logical process, not because they are illogical, but because the scales of logic are not delicate and sensitive enough to weigh them. 'Except ye be converted and become as little children, ye shall not enter into the kingdom of heaven.' 'I will arise and go to my father, and will say unto him: Father, I have sinned against heaven and before thee, and am no more worthy to be called thy son.' 'Come unto me all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.' The plummet of science--physical or metaphysical, moral or critical--has never sounded so deep as sayings such as these. We may pass them over unnoticed in our Bibles, or let them slip glibly and thoughtlessly from the tongue; but when they once really come home, there is nothing to do but to bow the head and cover the face and exclaim with the Apostle, 'Depart from me, for I am a sinful man, O Lord.' And yet there is that other side of the question which is represented in 'Supernatural Religion,' and this too must have justice done to it. There is an intellectual, as well as a moral and spiritual, synthesis of things. Only it should be remembered that this synthesis has to cover an immense number of facts of the most varied and intricate kind, and that at present the nature of the facts themselves is in many cases very far from being accurately ascertained. We are constantly reminded in reading 'Supernatural Religion,' able and vigorous as it is, how much of its force depends rather upon our ignorance than our knowledge. It supplies us with many opportunities of seeing how easily the whole course and tenour of an argument may be changed by the introduction of a new element. For instance, I imagine that if the author had given a little deeper study to the seemingly minute and secondary subject of text-criticism, it would have aroused in him very considerable misgivings as to the results at which he seemed to have arrived. There is a solidarity in all the different departments of human knowledge and research, especially among those that are allied in subject. These are continually sending out offshoots and projections into the neighbouring regions, and the conclusions of one science very often have to depend upon those of another. The course of enquiry that has been taken in 'Supernatural Religion' is peculiarly unfortunate. It starts from the wrong end. It begins with propositions into which _a priori_ considerations largely enter, and, from the standpoint given by these, it proceeds to dictate terms in a field that can only be trodden by patient and unprejudiced study. A far more hopeful and scientific process would have been to begin upon ground where dogmatic questions do not enter, or enter only in a remote degree, and where there is a sufficient number of solid ascertainable facts to go upon, and then to work the way steadily and cautiously upwards to higher generalisations. It will have been seen in the course of the present enquiry how many side questions need to be determined. It would be well if monographs were written upon all the quotations from the Old Testament in the Christian literature of the first two centuries, modelled upon Credner's investigations into the quotations in Justin. Before this is done there should be a new and revised edition of Holmes' and Parsons' Septuagint [Endnote 359:1]. Everything short of this would be inadequate, because we need to know not only the best text, but every text that has definite historical attestation. In this way it would be possible to arrive at a tolerably exact, instead of a merely approximate, deduction as to the habit of quotation generally, which would supply a firmer basis for inference in regard to the New Testament than that which has been assumed here. At the same time monographs should be written in English, besides those already existing in German, upon the date or position of the writers whose works come under review. Without any attempt to prove a particular thesis, the reader should be allowed to see precisely what the evidence is and how far it goes. Then if he could not arrive at a positive conclusion, he could at least attain to the most probable. And, lastly, it is highly important that the whole question of the composition and structure of the Synoptic Gospels should be investigated to the very bottom. Much valuable labour has already been expended upon this subject, but the result, though progress has been made, is rather to show its extreme complexity and difficulty than to produce any final settlement. Yet, as the author of 'Supernatural Religion' has rather dimly and inadequately seen, we are constantly thrown back upon assumptions borrowed from this quarter. Pending such more mature and thorough enquiries, I quite feel that my own present contribution belongs to a transition stage, and cannot profess to be more than provisional. But it will have served its purpose sufficiently if it has helped to mark out more distinctly certain lines of the enquiry and to carry the investigation along these a little way; suggesting at the same time--what the facts themselves really suggest--counsels of sobriety and moderation. What the end will be, it would be presumptuous to attempt to foretell. It will probably be a long time before even these minor questions--much more the major questions into which they run up-- will be solved. Whether they will ever be solved--all of them at least--in such a way as to compel entire assent is very doubtful. Error and imperfection seem to be permanently, if we may hope diminishingly, a condition of human thought and action. It does not appear to be the will of God that Truth should ever be so presented as to crush out all variety of opinion. The conflict of opinions is like that of Hercules with the Hydra. As fast as one is cut down another arises in its place; and there is no searing- iron to scorch and cicatrize the wound. However much we may labour, we can only arrive at an inner conviction, not at objective certainty. All the glosses and asseverations in the world cannot carry us an inch beyond the due weight of the evidence vouchsafed to us. An honest and brave mind will accept manfully this condition of things, and not seek for infallibility where it can find none. It will adopt as its motto that noble saying of Bishop Butler--noble, because so unflinchingly true, though opposed to a sentimental optimism--'Probability is the very guide of life.' With probabilities we have to deal, in the intellectual sphere. But, when once this is thoroughly and honestly recognised, even a comparatively small balance of probability comes to have as much moral weight as the most loudly vaunted certainty. And meantime, apart from and beneath the strife of tongues, there is the still small voice which whispers to a man and bids him, in no superstitious sense but with the gravity and humility which befits a Christian, to 'work out his own salvation with fear and trembling.' [ENDNOTES] [2:1] With regard to the references in vol. i. p. 259, n. 1, I had already observed, before the appearance of the preface to the sixth edition, that they were really intended to apply to the first part of the sentence annotated rather than the second. Still, as there is only one reference out of nine that really supports the proposition in immediate connection with which the references are made, the reader would be very apt to carry away a mistaken impression. The same must be said of the set of references defended on p. xl. sqq. of the new preface. The expressions used do not accurately represent the state of the facts. It is not careful writing, and I am afraid it must be said that the prejudice of the author has determined the side which the expression leans. But how difficult is it to make words express all the due shades and qualifications of meaning--how difficult especially for a mind that seems to be naturally distinguished by force rather than by exactness and delicacy of observation! We have all 'les défauts de nos qualités.' [10:1] Much harm has been done by rashly pressing human metaphors and analogies; such as, that Revelation is a _message_ from God and therefore must be infallible, &c. This is just the sort of argument that the Deists used in the last century, insisting that a revelation, properly so called, _must_ be presented with conclusive proofs, _must_ be universal, _must_ be complete, and drawing the conclusion that Christianity is not such a revelation. This kind of reasoning has received its sentence once for all from Bishop Butler. We have nothing to do with what _must_ be (of which we are, by the nature of the case, incompetent judges), but simply with what _is_. [18:1] Cf. Westcott, _Canon_, p. 152, n. 2 (3rd ed. 1870). [18:2] See Lightfoot, _Galatians_, p. 60; also Credner, _Beiträge_, ii. 66 ('certainly' from St. Paul). [20:1] _The Old Testament in the New_ (London and Edinburgh, 1868). [21:1] Mr. M'Clellan (_The New Testament_, &c., vol. i. p. 606, n. c) makes the suggestion, which from his point of view is necessary, that 'S. Matthew has cited a prophecy spoken by Jeremiah, but nowhere written in the Old Testament, and of which the passage in Zechariah is only a partial reproduction.' Cf. Credner, _Beiträge_, ii. 152. [25:1] We do not stay to discuss the real origin of these quotations: the last is probably not from the Old Testament at all. [27:1] The quotations in this chapter are continuous, and are also found in Clement of Alexandria. [34:1] It should be noticed, however, that the same reading is found in Justin and other writers. [38:1] _Clementis Romani quae feruntur Homiliae Viginti_ (Gottingae, 1853). [39:1] _Beiträge zur Einleitung in die biblischen Schriften_ (Halle, 1832). [40:1] _The Epistles of S. Clement of Rome_ (London and Cambridge, 1869). [49:1] The Latin translation is not in most cases a sufficient guarantee for the original text. The Greek has been preserved in the shape of long extracts by Epiphanius and others. The edition used is that of Stieren, Lipsiae, 1853. [49:2] Horne's _Introduction_ (ed. 1856), p. 333. [52:1] Ed. Dindorf, Lipsiae, 1859. [The index given in vol. iii. p. 893 sqq. contains many inaccuracies, and is, indeed, of little use for identifying the passages of Scripture.] [56:1] _Some Account of the Writings and Opinions of Clement of Alexandria,_ p. 407 sqq. [56:2] In the new Preface to his work on the Canon (4th edition, 1875), p. xxxii. [58:1] _S.R._ i. p. 221, and note. [59:1] _S.R._ i. p. 222, n. 3. [59:2] _Lehrb. chr. Dogmengesch._ p. 74 (p. 82 _S.R._?). [59:3] _Das nachapost. Zeitalter_, p. 126 sq. [60:1] _Der Ursprung unserer Evangelien_, p. 64; compare Fritzche, art. 'Judith' in Schenkel's _Bibel-Lexicon_. [61:1] Vol. i. p. 221, n. I feel it due to the author to say that I have found his long lists of references, though not seldom faulty, very useful. I willingly acknowledge the justice of his claim to have 'fully laid before readers the actual means of judging of the accuracy of every statement which has been made' (Preface to sixth edition, p. lxxx). [65:1] i. p. 226. [66:1] i. p. 228. [69:1] _Der Ursprung_, p. 138. [71:1] _The Apostolical Fathers_ (London, 1874), p. 273. [71:2] The original Greek of this work is lost, but in the text as reconstructed by Hilgenfeld from five still extant versions (Latin, Syriac, Aethiopic, Arabic, Armenian) the verse runs thus, [Greek: polloi men ektisthaesan, oligoi de sothaesontai] (_Messias Judaeorum_, p. 69). [73:1] A curious instance of disregard of context is to be seen in Tertullian's reading of John i. 13, which he referred to _Christ_, accusing the Valentinians of falsification because they had the ordinary reading (cf. Rönsch, _Das Neue Testament Tertullian's_, pp. 252, 654). Compare also p. 24 above. [73:2] _Novum Testamentum extra Canonem Receptum_, Fasc. ii. p. 69. [74:1] c. v. [74:2] _S. R._ i. p. 250 sqq. [76:1] Lardner, _Credibility, &c_., ii. p .23; Westcott, _On the Canon_, p. 50, n. 5. [77:1] Since this was written the author of 'Supernatural Religion' has replied in the preface to his sixth edition. He has stated his case in the ablest possible manner: still I do not think that there is anything to retract in what has been written above. There _would_ have been something to retract if Dr. Lightfoot had maintained positively the genuineness of the Vossian Epistles. As to the Syriac, the question seems to me to stand thus. On the one side are certain improbabilities--I admit, improbabilities, though not of the weightiest kind--which are met about half way by the parallel cases quoted. On the other hand, there is the express testimony of the Epistle of Polycarp quoted in its turn by Irenaeus. Now I cannot think that there is any improbability so great (considering our ignorance) as not to be outweighed by this external evidence. [81:1] Cf. Hilgenfeld, _Nov. Test. ext. Can. Rec._, Fasc. iv. p. 15. [81:2] Cf. _ibid._, pp. 56, 62, also p. 29. [82:1] But see _Contemporary Review_, 1875, p. 838, from which it appears that M. Waddington has recently proved the date to be rather 155 or 156. Compare Hilgenfeld, _Einleitung_, p. 72, where reference is made to an essay by Lipsius, _Der Märtyrertod Polycarp's_ in _Z. f. w. T._ 1874, ii. p. 180 f. [82:2] _Adv. Haer._ iii. 3, 4. [83:1] _Entstehung der alt-katholischen Kirche_, p. 586; Hefele, _Patrum Apostolicorum Opera_, p. lxxx. [84:1] Cf. _S. R._ i. p. 278. [84:2] _Ent. d. a. K._ pp. 593, 599. [84:3] _Apostolical Fathers_, p. 227 sq. [84:4] _Ursprung_, pp. 43, 131. [85:1] [Greek: mnaemoneuontes de hon eipen ho kurios didaskon; mae krinete hina mae krithaete; aphiete kai aphethaesetai hymin; eleeite hina eleaethaete; en ho metro metreite, antimetraethaesetai hymin; kai hoti makarioi hoi ptochoi kai hoi diokomenoi heneken dikaiosynaes, hoti auton estin hae basileia tou Theou.] [89:1] _Geschichte Jesu von Nazara_, 1. p. 138, n. 2. [89:2] _Einleilung in das N. T._ p. 66, where Lipsius' view is also quoted. [89:3] Cf. Westcott, _On the Canon_, p. 88, n. 4. [89:4] As appears to be suggested in _S. R._ i. p. 292. The reference in the note to Bleek, _Einl._ p. 637 (and Ewald?), does not seem to be exactly to the point. [89:5] _Apol._ i. 67. [90:1] _Dial. c. Tryph._ 103. [90:2] _Apol._ i. 66; cf. _S.R._ i. p. 294. [91:1] The evangelical references and allusions in Justin have been carefully collected by Credner and Hilgenfeld, and are here thrown together in a sort of running narrative. [101:1] This was written before the appearance of Mr. M'Clellan's important work on the Four Gospels (_The New Testament_, vol. i, London, 1875), to which I have not yet had time to give the study that it deserves. [103:1] Unless indeed it was found in one of the many forms of the Gospel (cf. _S.R._ i. P. 436, and p. 141 below). The section appears in none of the forms reproduced by Dr. Hilgenfeld (_N.T. extra Can. Recept._ Fasc. iv). [107:1] In like manner Tertullian refers his readers to the 'autograph copies' of St. Paul's Epistles, and the very 'chairs of the Apostles,' preserved at Corinth and elsewhere. (_De Praescript. Haeret._ c. 36). Tertullian also refers to the census of Augustus, 'quem testem fidelissimum dominicae nativitatis Romana archiva custodiunt' (_Adv. Marc._ iv. 7). [110:1] _Beiträge_, i. p. 261 sqq. [110:2] _Evangelien Justin's u.s.w._, p. 270 sqq. [110:3] The chief authority is Eus. _H. E._ vi. 12. [110:4] Cf. Hilgenfeld, _Ev. Justin's_, p. 157. [116:1] A somewhat similar classification has been made by De Wette, _Einleitung in das N. T._, pp. 104-110, in which however the standard seems to be somewhat lower than that which I have assumed; several instances of variation which I had classed as decided, De Wette considers to be only slight. I hope I may consider this a proof that the classification above given has not been influenced by bias. [119:1] _Beiträge_, i. p. 237. [119:2] _S.R._ i. p. 396 sqq. [120:1] _Die drei ersten Evangelien_, Göttingen, 1850. [A second, revised, edition of this work has recently appeared.] [120:2] _Die Synoptischen Evangelien_, Leipzig, 1863, p. 88. [120:3] _Das Marcus-evangelium_, Berlin, 1872, p. 299. [120:4] _Beiträge_, i. p. 219. [120:5] Dr. Westcott well calls this 'the _prophetic_ sense of the present' (_On the Canon_, p. 128). [122:1] 'This is meaningless,' writes Mr. Baring-Gould of the canonical text, rather hastily, and forgetting, as it would appear, the concluding cause (_Lost and Hostile Gospels_, p. 166); cp. _S.R._ i. p. 354, ii. p. 28. [123:1] i. pp. 196, 227, 258. [123:2] _Geschichte des Neutestamentlichen Kanon_ (ed. Volkmar, Berlin, 1860), p. 16. [124:1] _Adv. Haer._ 428 D. [124:2] I am not quite clear that more is meant (as Meyer, Ellicott _Huls. Lect._ p. 339, n. 2, and others maintain) in the evangelical language than that the drops of sweat 'resembled blood;' [Greek: hosei] seems to qualify [Greek: haimatos] as much as [Greek: thromboi]. Compare especially the interesting parallels from medical writers quoted by McClellan _ad loc._ [128:1] The only parallel that I can find quoted is a reference by Mr. McClellan to Philo i.164 (ed. Mangey), where the phrase is however [Greek: isos angeloi (gegonos)]. [129:1] _S.R._ i. p. 304 sqq. [130:1] _Ev. Justin's_, p. 157. [135:1] Scrivener, _Introduction to the Criticism of the N. T_. p. 452 (2nd edition, 1874). [136:1] On reviewing this chapter I am inclined to lean more than I did to the hypothesis that Justin used a Harmony. The phenomena of variation seem to be too persistent and too evenly distributed to allow of the supposition of alternate quoting from different Gospels. But the data will need a closer weighing before this can be determined. [138:1] _Contemporary Review_, 1875, p. 169 sqq. [138:2] Tischendorf, however, devotes several pages to an argument which follows in the same line as Dr. Lightfoot's, and is, I believe, in the main sound (_Wann wurden unsere Evangelien verfasst?_ p. 113 sqq., 4th edition, 1866). [138:3] I gather from the sixth edition of _S. R._ that the argument from silence is practically waived. If the silence of Eusebius is not pressed as proving that the authors about whom he is silent were ignorant of or did not acknowledge particular Gospels, we on our side may be content not to press it as proving that the Gospels in question _were_ acknowledged. The matter may well be allowed to rest thus: that, so far as the silence of Eusebius is concerned, Hegesippus, Papias, and Dionysius of Corinth are not alleged either for the Gospels or against them. I agree with the author of 'Supernatural Religion' that the point is not one of paramount importance, though it has been made more of by other writers, e.g. Strauss and Renan. [The author has missed Dr. Lightfoot's point on p. xxiii. What Eusebius bears testimony to is, _not_ his own belief in the canonicity of the fourth Gospel, but its _undisputed_ canonicity, i.e. a historical fact which includes within its range Hegesippus, Papias, &c. If I say that _Hamlet_ is an undisputed play of Shakspeare's, I mean, not that I believe it to be Shakspeare's myself, but that all the critics from Shakspeare's time downwards have believed it to be his.] [140:1] _H. E._ iv. 22. [141:1] _S. R._ i. p. 436. [141:2] _Einleitung_, p. 103. [141:3] _Das Nachapost. Zeit._ i. p. 238. [141:4] _Beiträge_, i. p. 401. [141:5] _Nov. Test. extra Can. Recept._ Fasc. iv. pp. 19, 20. [143:1] We have, however, had occasion to note a somewhat parallel, though not quite parallel, instance in the quotation of Clement of Rome and Polycarp, [Greek: aphiete, hina aphethae humin (kai aphethaesetai humin)]. [144:1] _Contemporary Review_, Dec. 1874, p. 8; cf. Routh, _Reliquiae Sacrae_, i. p. 281 _ad fin._ [144:2] Tregelles, writing on the 'Ancient Syriac Versions' in Smith's Dictionary, iii. p. 1635 a, says that 'these words might be a Greek rendering of Matt. xiii. 16 as they stand' in the Curetonian text. [145:1] Or rather perhaps 155, 156; see p. 82 above. [146:1] _H.E._ iii. 39. [147:1] In Mr. M'Clellan's recent _Harmony_ I notice only two deviations from the order in St. Mark, ii. 15-22, vi. 17-29. In Mr. Fuller's _Harmony_ (the Harmony itself and not the Table of Contents, in which there are several oversights) there seem to be two, Mark vi. 17-20, xiv. 3-9; in Dr. Robinson's English _Harmony_ three, ii. 15-22, vi. 17-20, xiv. 22-72 (considerable variation). Of these passages vi. 17-20 (the imprisonment of the Baptist) is the only one the place of which all three writers agree in changing. [Dr. Lightfoot, in _Cont. Rev._, Aug. 1875, p. 394, appeals to Anger and Tischendorf in proof of the contrary proposition, that the order of Mark cannot be maintained. But Tischendorf's Harmony is based on the assumption that St. Luke's use of [Greek: kathexaes] pledges him to a chronological order, and Anger adopts Griesbach's hypothesis that Mark is a compilation from Matthew and Luke. The remarks in the text turn, not upon precarious harmonistic results, but upon a simple comparison of the three Gospels.] [149:1] Perhaps I should explain that this was made by underlining the points of resemblance between the Gospels in different coloured pencil and reckoning up the results at the end of each section. [153:1] This subject has been carefully worked out since Credner by Bleek and De Wette. The results will be found in Holtzmann, _Synopt. Ev._ p. 259 sqq. [154:1] Cf. Holtzmann, _Die Synoptischen Evangelien_, p. 255 sq.; Ebrard, _The Gospel History_ (Engl. trans.), p. 247; Bleek, _Synoptische Erklarung der drei ersten Evangelien_, i. p. 367. The theory rests upon an acute observation, and has much plausibility. [155:1] _On the Canon_, p. 181, n. 2. [That the word will bear this sense appears still more decidedly from Dr. Lightfoot's recent investigations, in view of which the two sentences that follow should perhaps be cancelled; see _Cont. Rev._, Aug. 1875, p. 399 sqq.] [159:1] [It will be seen that the arguments above hardly touch those of Dr. Lightfoot in the _Contemporary Review_ for August and October: neither do Dr. Lightfoot's arguments seem very much to affect them. The method of the one is chiefly external, that of the other almost entirely internal. I can only for the present leave what I had written; but I do not for a moment suppose that the subject is fathomed even from the particular standpoint that I have taken.] [162:1] The lists given in _Supernatural Religion_ (ii. p. 2) seem to be correct so far as I am able to check them. In the second edition of his work on the Origin of the Old Catholic Church, Ritschl modified his previous opinion so far as to admit that the indications were divided, sometimes on the one side, sometimes on the other (p. 451, n. 1). There is a seasonable warning in Reuss (_Gesch. h. S. N. T._ p. 254) that the Tübingen critics here, as elsewhere, are apt to exaggerate the polemical aspect of the writing. [162:2] It should be noticed that Hilgenfeld and Volkmar, though assigning the second place to the Homilies, both take the _terminus ad quem_ for this work no later than 180 A.D. It seems that a Syriac version, partly of the Homilies, partly of the Recognitions, exists in a MS. which itself was written in the year 411, and bears at that date marks of transcription from a still earlier copy (cf. Lightfoot, _Galatians_, p. 341, n. 1). [163:1] This table is made, as in the case of Justin, with the help of the collection of passages in the works of Credner and Hilgenfeld. [167:1] Or rather perhaps 'morning baptism.' (Cf. Lightfoot, _Colossians,_ p. 162 sqq., where the meaning of the name and the character and relations of the sect are fully discussed). [168:1] _Hom._ i. 6; ii. 19, 23; iii. 73; iv. 1; xiii. 7; xvii. 19. [170:1] So Tregelles expressly (_Introduction_, p. 240), after Wiseman; Scrivener (_Introd._, p. 308) adds (?); M'Clellan classes with 'Italic Family' (p. lxxiii). [On returning to this passage I incline rather more definitely to regard the reading [Greek: Haesaiou], from the group in which it is found, as an early Alexandrine corruption. Still the Clementine writer may have had it before him.] [170:2] ii. p. 10 sqq. [172:1] ii. p. 21. [172:2] Preface to the fourth edition of _Canon_, p. xxxii. [174:1] _Evangelien_, p. 31. [174:2] _Das Marcus-evangelium_, p. 282. [175:1] _Synopt. Ev._ p. 193. [176:1] _Das Marcus-evangelium_, p. 295. [178:1] A friend has kindly extracted for me, from Holmes and Parsons, the authorities for the Septuagint text of Deut. vi. 4. For [Greek: sou] there are 'Const. App. 219, 354, 355; Ignat. Epp. 104, 112; Clem. Al. 68, 718; Chrys. i. 482 et saepe, al.' For _tuus_, 'Iren. (int.), Tert., Cypr., Ambr., Anonym. ap. Aug., Gaud., Brix., Alii Latini.' No authorities for [Greek: humon]. Was the change first introduced into the text of the New Testament? [178:2] _S. R._ ii. p. 25. [179:1] _Beiträge_, i. p. 326. [179:2] _On the Canon_, p. 261, n. 2. [188:1] _Hom._ 1. _in Lucam_. [189:1] _H.E._ iv. 7. [189:2] _Strom._ iv. 12. [189:3] _S.R._ ii. p. 42. [189:4] _Ibid._ n. 2; cp. p. 47. [190:1] _Ref. Omn. Haer._ vii, 27. [190:2] ii. p. 45. [191:1] _Ref. Omn. Haer._ vii. 20. [192:1] _S. R._ ii. p. 49. [197:1] _Adv. Haer._ i. Pref. 2. [198:1] ii. p. 59. [199:1] _S.R._ ii. p. 211 sq. [200:1] _Strom._ ii. 20; see Westcott, _Canon_, p. 269; Volkmar, _Ursprung_, p. 152. [203:1] _Adv. Haer._ iii. 11. 7, 9. [203:2] _Ibid._ iii. 12. 12. [204:1] The corresponding chapter to this in 'Supernatural Religion' has been considerably altered, and indeed in part rewritten, in the sixth edition. The author very kindly sent me a copy of this after the appearance of my article in the _Fortnightly Review_, and I at once made use of it for the part of the work on which I was engaged; but I regret that my attention was not directed, as it should have been, to the changes in this chapter until it was too late to take quite sufficient account of them. The argument, however, I think I may say, is not materially affected. Several criticisms which I had been led to make in the _Fortnightly_ I now find had been anticipated, and these have been cancelled or a note added in the present work; I have also appended to the volume a supplemental note of greater length on the reconstruction of Marcion's text, the only point on which I believe there is really very much room for doubt. [205:1] See above, p. 89. [205:2] _Apol._ i. 26. [205:3] _Ibid._ i. 58. [205:4] ii. p. 80. [205:5] _Der Ursprung_, p. 89. [205:6] Cf. Tertullian, _De Praescript. Haeret._ c. 38. [206:1] _Adv. Haer._ iv. 27. 2; 12. 12. [209:1] _Das Ev. Marcion's_, pp. 28-54. [Volkmar's view is stated less inadequately in the sixth edition of _S. R._, but still not quite adequately. Perhaps it could hardly be otherwise where arguments that were originally adduced in favour of one conclusion are employed to support its opposite.] [210:1] [Greek: oida] for [Greek: oidas] in Luke xiv. 20. Cf. Volkmar, p. 46. [211:1] _Das Ev. Marcion's_, p. 45. [211:2] _Ibid._ pp. 46-48. [211:3] 'We have, in fact, no guarantee of the accuracy or trustworthiness of any of their statements' (_S.R._ ii. p. 100). We have just the remarkable coincidence spoken of above. It does not prove that Tertullian did not faithfully reproduce the text of Marcion to show, which is the real drift of the argument on the preceding page (_S.R._ ii. p. 99), that he had not the canonical Gospel before him; rather it removes the suspicion that he might have confused the text of Marcion's Gospel with the canonical. [212:1] This table has been constructed from that of De Wette, _Einleitung_, pp. 123-132, compared with the works of Volkmar and Hilgenfeld. [213:1]: _S.R._ ii. p. 110, n. 3. The statement is mistaken in regard to Volkmar and Hilgenfeld. Both these writers would make Marcion retain this passage. It happens rather oddly that this is one of the sections on which the philological evidence for St. Luke's authorship is least abundant (see below). [215:1] There is direct evidence for the presence in Marcion's Gospel of the passages relating to the personages here named, except Martha and Mary; see _Tert. Adv. Marc._ iv. 19, 37, 43. [217:1] _S. R._ ii. 142 sq. [217:2] This admission does not damage the credit of Tertullian and Epiphanius as witnesses; because what we want from them is a statement of the facts; the construction which they put upon the facts is a matter of no importance. [217:3] The omission in 2 Cor. iv. 13 must be due to Marcion (_Epiph._ 321 c.); so probably an insertion in 1 Cor. ix. 8. [218:1] Tert. _Adv. Marc._ v. 16: 'Haec si Marcion de industria erasit,' &c. V. 14: 'Salio et hic amplissimum abruptum intercisae scripturae.' V. 3: 'Ostenditur quid supra haeretica industria eraserit, mentionem scilicet Abrahae,' &c. Cf. Bleek, _Einleitung_, p. 136; Hilgenfeld, _Evv. Justin's_, &c., p. 473. [219:1] 'Anno xv. Tiberii Christus Jesus de coelo manare dignatus est' (Tert. _Adv. Marc._ i. 19). [220:1] I give mainly the explanations of Volkmar, who, it should be remembered, is the very reverse of an apologist, indicating the points where they seem least satisfactory. [220:2] It is highly probable that many of the points mentioned by Tertullian and Epiphanius as 'adulterations' were simply various readings in Marcion's Codex; such would be v. 14, x. 25, xvii. 2, and xxiii. 2, which are directly supported by other authority: xi. 2 and xii. 28 would probably belong to this class. So perhaps the insertion of iv. 27 in the history of the Samaritan leper. The phenomenon of a transposition of verses from one part of a Gospel to another is not an infrequent one in early MSS. [223:1] _Die Synoptischen Evangelien_, 1863, pp. 302 sqq. [224:1] Where a reference is given thus in brackets, it is confirmatory, from the part of the Gospel retained by Marcion. [229:1] An analysis of the words which are only found in St. Luke, or very rarely found elsewhere, gives the following results.--The number of words found only in the portion of the Gospel retained by Marcion and in the Acts is 231; that of words found in these retained portions and not besides in the Gospels or the two other Synoptics is 58; and both these classes together for the portions omitted in Marcion's Gospel reach a total of 62, which is decidedly under the proportion that might have been expected. The list is diminished by a number of words which are found only in the omitted and retained portions, furnishing evidence, as above, that both proceed from the same hand. [231:1] This list has been made from the valuable work of Rönsch, _Das Neue Testament Tertullian's_, 1871, and the critical editions, compared with the text of Marcion's Gospel as given by Hilgenfeld and Volkmar. [231:2] It might be thought that Tertullian was giving his own text and not that of Marcion's Gospel, but this supposition is excluded both by the confirmation which he receives from Epiphanius, and also by the fact, which is generally admitted (see _S.R._ ii. p. 100), that he had not the canonical Luke, but only Marcion's Gospel before him. [233:1] See Crowfoot, _Observations on the Collation in Greek of Cureton's Syriac Fragments of the Gospels_, 1872, p. 5; Scrivener, _Introduction to the Criticism of the New Testament_, 2nd edition, 1874, p. 452. [233:2] See Scrivener, _Introduction_, p. 307 sq.; and Dr. Westcott's article on the 'Vulgate' in Smith's Dictionary. It should be noticed that Dr. Westcott's literation differs from that of Dr. Scrivener and Tregelles, which has been adopted here. [235:1] Cf. Friedländer, _Sittengeschichte Roms_, iii. p. 315. [238:1] See p. 89, above. [238:2] _Strom._ iii. 12; compare _S.R._ ii. p. 151. [239:1] [Greek: Ho mentoi ge proteros auton archaegos ho Tatianos sunapheian tina kai sunagogaen ouk oid' hopos ton euangelion suntheis to dia tessaron touto prosonomasin, ho kai para tisin eiseti nun pheretai.] _H. E._ iv. 29. [239:2] _Beiträge_, i. p. 441. [240:1] _Haer._ 391 D (xlvi. 1). [240:2] [Greek: Outos kai to dia tessaron kaloumenon suntetheiken euangelion, tas te genealogias perikopsas, kai ta alla, hosa ek spermatos Dabid kata sorka genennaemenon ton Kurion deiknusin. Echraesanto de touto ou monon oi taes ekeinou summorias, alla kai oi tous apostolikois epomenoi dogmasi, taen taes sunthaekaes kakourgian ouk egnokotes, all' aplousteron hos suntomo to biblio chraesamenoi. Euron de kago pleious ae diakosias biblous toiautas en tais par' haemin ekklaesiois tetimaemenas, kai pasas sunagagan apethemaen, kai ta ton tettaron euangeliston anteisaegagon euangelia] (_Haeret. Fab._ i. 20, quoted by Credner, _Beiträge_, i. p. 442). [240:3] See _S.R._ ii. p. 15. [241:1] _S.R._ ii. p. 162; compare Credner, _Beiträge_, i. p. 446 sqq. [241:2] _Adv. Haer._ iii. 11. 8. [241:3] _Beit_. i. p. 443. [241:4] May not Tatian have given his name to a collection of materials begun, used, and left in a more or less advanced stage of compilation, by Justin? However, we can really do little more than note the resemblance: any theory we may form must be purely conjectural. [242:1] [Greek: Epistolas gar adelphon axiosanton me grapsai egarapsa. Kai tautas oi tou diabolon apostoloi zizanion gegemikan, ha men exairountes, ha de prostithentes. Ois to ouai keitai. Ou thaumaston ara, ei kai ton kuriakon rhadiourgaesai tines epibeblaentai graphon, hopote tais ou toiautais epibebouleukasi.] _H.E._ iv. 23 (Routh, _Rel. Sac._ i. p. 181). [243:1] [Greek: Allae d' epistolae tis autou pros Nikomaedeas pheretai en hae taen Markionos airesin polemon to taes alaetheias paristatai kanoni]. _H.E._ iv. 23_. [244:1] [Greek: Akribos mathon ta taes palaias diathaekaes Biblia, hipotaxas epempsa soi.] Euseb. _H.E._ iv. 26 (Routh, _Rel. Sac._ i. p. 119). [245:1] Westcott, _On the Canon_, p. 201. [245:2] ii. p. 177. [245:3] _Adv. Marc._ iv. 1 (cf. Rönsch, _Das neue Testament Tertullian's_, p. 48), 'duo deos dividens, proinde diversos, alterum alterius instrumenti--vel, _quod magis usui est dicere, testamenti_.' [246:1] [Greek: Eisi toinun hoi di' hagnoian philoneikousi peri touton, sungnoston pragma peponthotes agnoia gar ou kataegorian anadechetai, alla didachaes prosdeitai. Kai legousin hoti tae id' to probaton meta ton mathaeton ephagen ho Kurios tae de mealier haemera ton azumon autos epathen; kai diaegountai Matthaion outo legein hos nenoaekasin; hothen asumphonos te nomo hae noaesis auton, kai stasiazein dokei kat' autous ta euangelia.] _Chron. Pasch._ in Routh, _Rel. Sac._ i. p. 160. [247:1] _S. R._ ii. p. 188 sqq. The reference to Routh is given on p. 188, n. 1; that to Lardner in the same note should, I believe, be ii. p. 316, not p. 296. [247:2] _Rel. Sac._ i. p. 167. [249:1] The quotations from Athenagoras are transcribed from 'Supernatural Religion' and Lardner (_Credibility &c._, ii. p. 195 sq.). I have not access to the original work. [251:1] _Credibility &c._, ii. p. 161. [252:1] _Ep. Vien. et Lugd._ § 3 (in Routh, _Rel. Sac._ i. p. 297). [252:2] _S.R._ ii. p. 203; _Evv. Justin's u.s.w._ p. 155. [254:1] _Wann wurden u.s.w._ p. 48 sq. [254:2] _Ursprung_, p. 130; _S.R._ ii. p. 222. [255:1] Cf. Credner, _Beiträge_, ii. p. 254. [256:1] _Adv. Haer._ i. Praef. 2. [257:1] _Strom._ iv. 9. [257:2] [Greek: Ton Oualentinou legomenon einai gnorimon Haerakleouna] ... Origen, _Comm. in Joh._ ii. p. 60 (quoted by Volkmar, _Ursprung_, p. 127). [259:1] 'In affirming that [these quotations] are taken from the Gospel according to St. Matthew apologists exhibit their usual arbitrary haste,' &c. _S.R._ ii. p. 224. [260:1] _Celsus' Wahres Wort_, Zurich, 1873. For what follows, see especially p. 261 sqq. [263:1] Keim, _Celsus' Wahres Wort_, p. 262. [263:2] _Ibid_. p. 228 sq.; Volkmar, _Ursprung_, p. 80. [263:3] The text of this document is printed in full by Routh, _Rel. Sac_. i. pp. 394-396; Westcott, _On the Canon_, p. 487 sqq.; Hilgenfeld, _Der Kanon und die Kritik des N.T._ ad p. 40, n.; Credner, _Geschichte des Noutestamentlichen Kanon_, ed. Volkmar, p. 153 sqq., &c. [264:1] See however Dr. Lightfoot in _Cont. Rev_., Oct. 1875, p. 837. [265:1] _Ursprung_, p. 28. [265:2] ii. p. 245. [266:1] Cf. Credner, _Gesch. des Kanon_, p. 167. [266:2] _S.R._ ii. p. 241. [267:1] Quoted in _S.R._ ii. p. 247. [269:1] _Adv. Haer_. ii, 22. 5, iii. 3.4. [270:1] _Geschichte Jesu von Nazara_, i. pp. 141-143. [273:1] _Geschichte Jesu von Nazara_. i. pp. 143, 144. [273:2] _On the Canon_, p. 182 sqq. [275:1] [Greek: Ouch haedomai trophae phthoras, oude haedonais tou biou toutou. Arton Theou thelo, arton ouranion, arton zoaes, hos estin sarx Iaesou Christou tou Huiou tou Theou tou genomenou en hustero ek spermatos Dabid kai Abraam; kai poma Theou thelo to haima aoutou, ho estin agapae aphthartos kai aennaos zoae.] _Ep. ad Rom_. c. vii. [275:2] [Greek: Alla to Pneuma ou planatai, apo Theou on; oiden gar pothen erchetai kai pou hupagei, kai ta drupta elenche]. _Ep. ad Philad_. c. vii. [276:1] Cf. Lipsius in Schenkel's _Bibel-Lexicon_, i. p. 98. [277:1] The second and third Epistles stand upon a somewhat different footing. [277:2] Cf. _S.R._ ii. p. 269. [278:1] _S.R._ ii p. 323. [278:2] _Geschichte Jesu von Nazara_, i. p. 138 sq. [280:1] Cf. _S.R._ ii. p. 302. [280:2] So _Dial. c. Tryph_. 69; in _Apol._ i. 22 the MSS. of Justin read [Greek: ponaerous], which might stand, though some editors substitute or prefer [Greek: paerous]. In both quotations [Greek: ek genetaes] is added. The nearest parallel in the Synoptics is Mark ix. 21, [Greek: ek paidiothen] (of the paralytic boy). [280:3] _Wann wurden u. s. w_. p. 34. [283:1] ii. p. 308. [Has the author perhaps misunderstood Credner (_Beit_. i. p. 253), whose argument on this head is not indeed quite clear?] [283:2] _The New Testament &c_., i. p. 709. [284:1] See _Apol_. i. 23, 32, 63; ii. 10. [284:2] [Greek: Hae de protae dunamis meta ton patera panton kai despotaen Theon kai uios ho logos estin.] This is not quite rightly translated by Tischendorf and in 'Supernatural Religion:' [Greek: uios], like [Greek: dunamis], is a predicate; 'the next Power who also stands in the relation of Son.' [285:1] Prov. viii. 22-24, 27, 30. [285:2] Wisd. vii. 25, 26; viii. 1, 4. [286:1] Ecclus. xxiv. 9. [286:2] Wisd. ix. 1, 2; xvi. 12; xviii. 15. [287:1] Cf. Lipsius in _S. B. L._ i. p. 95 sqq. [288:1] _Der Kanon und die Kritik des N. T_. (Halle, 1863), p. 29; _Einleitung_, P. 43, n. [288:2] _Der Ursprung unserer Evangelien_, p. 63. [288:3] ii. p. 346. [290:1] _S. R._ ii. p. 340. [293:1] The force of the article ([Greek: tou paerou]) should be noticed, as showing that the incident (and therefore the Gospel) is assumed to be well known. [293:2] _S.R._ ii. p. 341. [295:1] Tischendorf, _Wann wurden_, p. 40; Westcott, _Canon_, p. 80. [296:1] ii. p. 357 sqq. [297:1] _Adv. Haer._ V. 36. 1, 2. [297:2] _S. R._ ii. p. 329. [298:1] Advanced by Routh (or rather Feuardentius in his notes on Irenaeus; cf. _Rel. Sac_. i. p. 31), and adopted by Tischendorf and Dr. Westcott. [The identification has since been ably and elaborately maintained by Dr. Lightfoot; see _Cont. Rev_. Oct. 1875, p. 841 sqq.] [298:2] It is not necessary here to determine the sense in which these words are to be taken. I had elsewhere given my reasons for taking [Greek: erchomenon] with [Greek: anthropon], as A. V. (_Fourth Gospel_, p. 6, n.). Mr. M'Clellan is now to be added to the number of those who prefer to take it with [Greek: phos], and argues ably in favour of his opinion. [299:1] The translation of this difficult passage has been left on purpose somewhat baldly literal. The idea seems to be that Basilides refused to accept projection or emanation as a hypothesis to account for the existence of created things. Compare Mansel, _Gnost. Her._ p. 148. [301:1] _Adv. Haer._. iii. 11. 7. [302:1] _Haer_. 216-222. [302:2] It should however be noticed that these words are given only in the old Latin translation of Irenaeus and are wanting in the Greek as preserved by Epiphanius. Whether the words were accidentally omitted, or whether they were inserted inferentially, for greater clearness, by the translator, it is hard to say. In any case the bearing of the quotations must be very much the same. If not made by Ptolemaeus himself, they were made by a contemporary of Ptolemaeus, i.e. at least by a writer anterior to Irenaeus. [302:3] _Adv. Haer_. ii. 4. 1; cf. _S.R._ ii. p. 211 sq. [302:4] The somewhat copious fragments of Heracleon's Commentary are given in Stieren's edition of Irenaeus, p. 938 sqq. Origen says that Heracleon read 'Bethany' in John i. 28 (M'Clellan, i. p. 708). [305:1] ii. p. 378. [306:1] _S.R._ ii. p. 379. [307:1] There is also perhaps a probable reference to St. John in Section 6, [Greek: taes aionioi paegaes tou hudatos taes zoaes tou exiontos ek taes naeduos tou Christou.] [307:2] _Celsus' Wahres Wort_, p. 229. [308:1] [Greek: ho taen hagian pleuran ekkentaetheis, ho ekcheas ek taes pleuras autou ta duo palin katharsia, hudor kai aima, logon kai pneuma]. See Routh, _Rel. Sac_. i. p. 161. [308:2] Lardner, _Credibility_, &c., ii. p. 196. [315:1] Tregelles in Horne's _Introduction_, p. 334. [315:2] _Adv. Haer._ iii. 11. 8. [316:1] _Adv. Haer._ iii. 1. 1. [317:1] See Lardner, _Credibility_, &c., ii. pp. 223, 224, and Eus. _H.E._ ii. 15 (14 Lardner). [317:2] Compare _H.E._ ii. 15 and vi. 14. [317:3] _H.E._ vi. 14. [317:4] _Strom._ iii. 13. [318:1] For the meaning of this word ('schriftliche Beweisurkunde') see Rönsch, _Das N.T. Tertullian's_, p. 48. [318:2] _Adv. Marc._ iv. 2. [318:2] _Ibid_. iv. 5. [318:4] _Ibid_. v. 9. [318:5] _Ibid_. iv. 2-5; compare v. 9, and Rönsch, pp. 53, 54. [319:1] Eus. _H.E._ vi. 25. [319:2] See M'Clellan on Luke i. 1-4. On the general position of Origen in regard to the Canon, compare Hilgenfeld, _Kanon_, p. 49. [320:1] So Westcott in _S.D._ iii. 1692, n. Tregelles, in Horne's _Introduction_, p. 333, speaks of this translation as 'coeval, apparently, with Irenaeus himself.' We must not, however, omit to notice that Rönsch (p. 43, n.) is more reserved in his verdict on the ground that the translation of Irenaeus 'in its peculiarities and in its relation to Tertullian has not yet received a thorough investigation;' compare Hilgenfeld, _Einleitung_, p. 797. [320:2] Rönsch, _Das N.T. Tertullian's_, p. 43. [321:1] Rönsch, _Itala und Vulgata_, pp. 2, 3. [321:2] Horne's _Introduction_, p. 233. [321:3] _Introduction_ (2nd ed.), pp. 300, 302, 450, 452. [321:4] iii. p. 1690 b. [322:1] Hilgenfeld, in his recent _Einleitung_, says expressly (p. 797) that 'the New Testament had already in the second century been translated into Latin.' This admission is not affected by the argument which follows, which goes to prove that the version used by Tertullian was not the 'Itala' properly so called. [322:2] See Smith's Dictionary, iii. p. 1630 b. [322:3] _Introduction_, p. 274. [322:4] See Routh, _Rel. Sac._ i. pp. 124 and 152. [323:1] See Scrivener, _loc. cit_. [323:2] See _New Testament_, &c., i. p. 635. [323:3] _S.D._ iii. p. 1634 b. [324:1] _Einleitung in das Neue Testament_, p. 724. [324:2] _Geschichte der heiligen Schriften Neuen Testaments_, p. 302. [324:3] _Einleitung_, p. 804. [324:4] See Tregelles, _loc. cit_. [324:5] Cf. Hilgenfeld, _Einleitung_, p. 805. It hardly seems clear that Origen had _no_ MS. authority for his reading. [324:6] _Introduction_, p. 530. But [Greek: oupo] is admitted into the text by Westcott and Hort. [324:7] 'The text of the Curetonian Gospels is in itself a sufficient proof of the extreme antiquity of the Syriac Version. This, as has been already remarked, offers a striking resemblance to that of the Old Latin, and cannot be later than the middle or close of the second century. It would be difficult to point out a more interesting subject for criticism than the respective relations of the Old Latin and Syriac Versions to the Latin and Syriac Vulgates. But at present it is almost untouched.' Westcott, _On the Canon_ (3rd ed.), p. 218, n. 3. [325:1] See Scrivener's _Introduction_, p. 324. [325:2] Cf. Bleek, _Einleitung_, p. 735; Reuss, _Gesch. N.T._ p. 447. [326:1] This is the date commonly accepted since Massuet, _Diss. in Irenaeum_, ii. 1. 2. Grabe had previously placed the date in A.D. 108, Dodwell as early as A.D. 97 (of. Stieren, _Irenaeus_, ii. pp. 32, 34, 182). [326:2] Routh, _Rel. Sac._ i. p. 306. [327:1] Eus. _H.E._ v. 11, vi. 6. Eusebius, in his, 'Chronicle,' speaks of Clement as eminent for his writings ([Greek suntatton dielampen]) in A.D. 194. [327:2] The books called 'Stromateis' or 'Miscellanies' date from this reign. _H.E._ vi. 6. [327:3] _Stromateis_, i. 1. [327:4] _Adv. Marc._ iv. 5. [327:5] _De Praescript. Haeret_. c. 36; see Scrivener, _Introduction_, p. 446. [328:1] pp. 450, 451. [328:2] p. 452. These facts may be held to show that the books were not regarded with the same veneration as now. [329:1] v. 30. 1. [330:1] _Adv. Haer._ iii. 11. 8. [330:2] _Ib_. iii. 14. 2. [331:1] Cf. _Adv. Haer._ iv. 13. 1. [332:1] The varieties of reading in this verse are exhibited in full by Dr. Westcott, _On the Canon_, p. 120, notes 4 and 5. [336:1] Matt. v. 28 is omitted as too ambiguous and confusing, though it is especially important for the point in question as showing that Tertullian himself had a variety of MSS. before him. [336:2] St. Matthew's Gospel is wanting in this MS. to xxv. 6; two leaves are also lost, from John vi. 50 to viii. 52. [346:1] _Strom_. ii. 20. [347:1] In a volume entitled _The Authorship and Historical Character of the Fourth Gospel_, Macmillan, 1872. I may say with reference to this book--a 'firstling' of theological study-- that I am inclined now to think that I exaggerated somewhat the importance of minute details as an evidence of the work of an eye-witness. The whole of the arguments, however, summarised on pp. 287-293 seem to me to be still perfectly valid and sound, and the greater part of them--notably that which relates to the Messianic expectations--is quite untouched by 'Supernatural Religion.' [348:1] It is instructive to compare the canons elaborately drawn up by Mr. M'Clellan (_N.T._ i. 375-389) with those tacitly assumed in 'Supernatural Religion.' The inference in the one case seems to be 'possible, therefore true,' in the other, 'not probable, or not confirmed, therefore false.' Surely neither of these tallies with experience. [352:1] This, perhaps, is one that is apt to be overlooked. In order to be quite sure that the process of analysis is complete it must be supplemented and verified by the reversed process of synthesis. If a compound has been resolved into its elements, we cannot be sure that it has been resolved into _all_ its elements until the original compound has been produced by their recombination. Where this second reverse process fails, the inference is that some unknown element which was originally present has escaped in the analysis. The analysis may be true as far as it goes, but it is incomplete. The causes are 'verae causae,' but they are not all the causes in operation. So it seems to be with the analysis of the vital organism. We may be said to know entirely what air and water are because the chemist can produce them, but we only know very imperfectly the nature of life and will and conscience, because when the physiological analysis has been carried as far as it will go there still remains a large unknown element. Within this element may very well reside those distinctive properties which make man (as the moralist is _obliged_ to assume that he is) a responsible and religious being. The hypotheses which lie at the root of morals and religion are derived from another source than physiology, but physiology does not exclude them, and will not do so until it gives a far more verifiably complete account of human nature than it does at present. [354:1] Mr. Browning has expressed this with his usual incisiveness and penetration:-- 'I hear you recommend, I might at least Eliminate, decrassify my faith ... Still, when you bid me purify the same, To such a process I discern no end, Clearing off one excrescence to see two; There's ever a next in size, now grown as big, That meets the knife: I cut and cut again! First cut the liquefaction, what comes last But Fichte's clever cut at God himself?' But also, on the other hand:-- 'Where's The gain? how can we guard our unbelief? Just when we are safest, there's a sunset-touch, A fancy from a flower-bell, some one's death, A chorus ending from Euripides,-- And that's enough for fifty hopes and fears, As old and new at once as Nature's self, To rap and knock and enter in our soul ... All we have gained then by our unbelief Is a life of doubt diversified by faith, For one of faith diversified by doubt: We called the chess-board white,--we call it black.' _Bishop Blongram's Apology_. [359:1] As to the defects of the present edition, see Tischendorf, Prolegomena to _Vetus Testamentum Graece juxta LXX Interpretes_, p. liii: 'Eae vero (collationes) quemadmodum in editis habentur non modo universae graviter differunt inter se fide atque accuratione, sed ad ipsos principales testes tam negligenter tamque male factae sunt ut etiam atque etiam dolendum sit tantos numos rara liberalitate per Angliam suppeditatos criticae sacrae parum profuisse.' Similarly Credner, in regard to the use of the Codex Alexandrinus, _Beiträge_, ii. 16: 'Wahrhaft unbegreiflich und unverzeihlich ist es, dass die Herausgeber der kostbaren Kritischen Ausgabe der LXX, welcher zu Oxford vor wenigen Jahren vollendet und von Holmes und Parsons besorgt worden ist, statt cine sorgfältige Vergleichung des in London aufbewahrten Cod. Alex. zu veranstalten, sich lediglich auf die Ausgabe von Grabe beschränkt haben, dessen Kritik vielfach nicht einmal verstanden worden ist.' APPENDIX. SUPPLEMENTAL NOTE ON THE RECONSTRUCTION OF MARCION'S GOSPEL. If the reader should happen to possess the work of Rönsch, Das Neue Testament Tertullian's, to which allusion has frequently been made above, and will simply glance over the pages, noting the references, from Luke iv. 16 to the end of the Gospel, I do not think he will need any other proof of the sufficiency of the grounds for the reconstruction of Marcion's Gospel, so as at least to admit of a decision as to whether it was our present St. Luke or not. Failing this, it may be well to give a brief example of the kind of data available, going back straight to the original authorities themselves. For this purpose we will take the first chapter that Marcion preserved entire, Luke v, and set forth in full such fragments of it as have come down to us. We take up the argument of Tertullian at the point where he begins to treat of this chapter. In the fourth book of the treatise against Marcion Tertullian begins by dealing with the Antitheses (a sort of criticism by Marcion on what he regarded as the Judaising portions of the Canonical Gospel), and then, in general terms, with the actual Gospel which Marcion used. From the general he descends to the particular, and in c.6 Tertullian pledges himself to show in detail, that even in those parts of the Gospel which Marcion retained there was enough to refute his own system. Marcion's Gospel began with the descent of Jesus upon Capernaum in the fifteenth year of Tiberias. Tertullian makes points out of this, also from the account of His preaching in the synagogue and of the expulsion of the devil. After this incident Marcion's Gospel represented our Lord as retiring into solitude. It did this as it would appear in words very similar to those of the Canonical Gospel. I place side by side the language of Tertullian with that of the Vulgate (Codex Fuldensis, as given by Tregelles). I have also compared the translation in the two codd., Vercellensis and Veronensis, of the Old Latin in Bianchini's edition. It will be remembered however that Tertullian is admitted to have Marcion's (and _not_ the Canonical) Gospel before him, and he probably translates directly from that. In solitudinem procedit.... Detentus a turbis: _Oportet me,_ inquit, _el aliis civitatibus_ _annuntiare regnum dei._ Luke v. 42, 43: Ibat in desertum sertum locum ... et detinebant illum ne discederet ab eis. Quibus ille ait quia, Et aliis civitatibus oportet me evangelizare regnum dei. His discussion of the fifth chapter Tertullian begins by asking why, out of all possible occupations, Christ should have fixed upon that of fishing, to take from thence His apostles, Simon and the sons of Zebedee. There was a meaning in the act which appears in the reply to Peter, 'Thou shalt catch men,' where there is a reference to a prophecy of Jeremiah (ch. xvi. 16). By this allusion Jesus sanctioned those very prophecies which Marcion rejected. In the end the fishermen left their boats and followed Him. De tot generibus operum quid utique ad piscaturam respexit ut, ab illa in apostolos sumeret _Simonem et filios Zebedaei ... _dicens Petro _trepidanti de copiosa indagine piscium: ne time abhinc enum homines eris capiens...._ Denique _relictis naviculis secuti sunt ipsum..._ Luke v. 1-11:[1] Factum est autem cum turbae irruereut in eum et ipse stabat secus stagnum Gennesareth:[2] et vidit duas naves....[3] Ascendens in unam navem quae erat Simonis...[4] dixit ad Simonem, Duc in altum, et laxate retia vestra in capturam. [6]Et cum hoc fecissent concluserunt piscium multitudinem copiosam.... [7]Et impleverunt ambas naviculas ita ut mergerentur. [8]Quod cum videret Simon Petrus, procidit ad genua Jesu.... [9]Stupor enim circumdederat eum ... [10]similiter autem Jacobum et Johannem filios Zebedaei.... Et ait ad Simonem Jesus, Noli timere, ex hoc jam homines eris capiens. [11]Et subductis ad terram navibus relictis omnibus secuti sunt illum. For Noli timere &c., cod. a has, Noli timere, jam amodo eris vivificans homines; cod. b, Nol. tim., ex hoc jam eris homines vivificans. In passing to the incident of the leper, Tertullian argues that the prohibition of contact with a leper was figurative, applying really to the contact with sin. But the Godhead is incapable of pollution, and therefore Jesus touched the leper. It would be in vain for Marcion to suggest that this was done in contempt of the law. For, upon his own (Docetic) theory, the body of Jesus was phantasmal, and therefore could not receive pollution: so that there would be no real contact or contempt of the law. Neither, as Marcion maintained, did a comparison with the miracle of Elisha tend to the disparagement of that prophet. True, Christ healed with a word. So also with a word had the Creator made the world. And, after all, the word of Christ produced no greater result than a river which came from the Creator's hands. Further, the command of Jesus to the leper when healed, showed His desire that the law should be fulfilled. Nay, He added an explanation which conveyed that He was not come to destroy the law, but Himself to fulfil it. This He did deliberately, and not from mere indulgence to the man, who, He knew, would wish to do as the law required. Argumentatur ... _in leprosi purgationem ... Tetigit leprosum_ ... Et hoc opponit Marcion ... Christum ... verbo solo, et hoc semel functo, curationem statim repraesentasse. Quantam ad gloriae humanae aversionem pertinebat, _vetuit eum divulgare_. Quantum autem ad tutelam legis jussit ordinem impleri. _Vade, ostende te sacerdoti, et offer munus quod praecepit Moyses_.... Itaque adjecit: _ut sit vobis in testimonium_. Luke v. 12-14: [12] Ecce vir plenus lepra: et videns Jesum ... rogavit eum dicens, Domine, si vis, potes me mundare. [13] Et extendens manum tetigit illum dicens, Volo, mundare. Et confestim lepra discessit ab illo. [14] Et ipse praecepit illi ut nemini diceret, sed Vade ostende te sacerdoti, et offer pro emundatione tua sicut praecepit Moses, in testimonium illis. For emundatione in ver. 14, a has purgatione; b as Vulg. Both a and b have the form offers (see Rönsch, It. u. Vulg. p. 294), b the plural sacerdotibus. Both codd. have a variation similar to that of Marcion, ut sit etc.; a inserts hoc. Next follows the healing of the paralytic, which was done in fulfilment of Is. xxxv. 2. The miracle also itself in its details was a special and exact fulfilment of the prophecy contained in the next verse, Is. xxxv. 3. That the Messiah should forgive sins had been repeatedly prophesied, e.g. in Is. liii. 12, i. 18, Micah vii. 18. Not only were these prophecies thus actually sanctioned by Christ, but, in forgiving the sins of the paralytic, He was only doing what the Creator or Demiurge had done before Him. In proof of this Tertullian appeals to the examples of the Ninevites, of David and Nathan, of Ahab, of Jonathan the son of Saul, and of the chosen people themselves. Thus Marcion was doubly refuted, because the prerogative of forgiveness was asserted of the Messiah in the prophecies which he rejected and attributed to the Creator whom he denied. In like manner, when Jesus called Himself the 'Son of Man,' He did so in a real sense, signifying that He was really born of a virgin. This appellation too had been applied to Him by the prophet Daniel. (Dan. vii. 13, iii. 25). But if Jesus claimed to be the Son of Man, if, standing before the Jews as a man, He claimed as man the power of forgiving sins, He thereby showed that He possessed a real human body and not the mere phantasm of which Marcion spoke. _Curatur_ et _paralyticus_, et quidem in coetu, spectante populo... Cum redintegratione membrorum virium quoque repraesentationem pollicebatur: _Exsurge et tolle grabatum tuum;_--simul et animi vigorem ad non timendos qui dicturi erant: _Qui dimittet peccata nisi solus deus?_... Cum Judaei merito retractarent non posse hominem _delicta dimittere_ sed _deum solum_, cur... _respondit, habere eum potestatem dimittendi delicta_, quando et _filium hominis_ nominans hominem nominaret? Luke v. 17-26: [17] Et factum est in una dierum et ipse sedebat docens.... [18] Et ecce viri portantes in lecto hominem, qui erat paralyticus, et quaerebant eum inferre... [19] et non invenientes qua parte illum inferrent prae turba,... per tegulas... summiserunt illum cum lecto in medium ante Jesum. [20] Quorum fidem ut vidit, dixit, Homo, remittuntur tibi peccata tua. [21] Et coeperunt cogitare Scribae et Pharisaei, dicentes, Quis est hic qui loquitur blasphemias? quis potest dimittere peccata nisi solus deus? [22] Ut cognovit autem Jesus cogitationes eorum, respondens dixit ad illos. ... [23] Quid est facilius dicere, Dimittuntur tibi peccata, an dicere, Surge et ambula? [24] Ut autem sciatis quia filius hominis potestatem habet in terra dimittere peccata, ait paralytico, Tibi dico, surge, tolle lectum tuum et vade in domum tuam. [25] Et confestim surgens ... abiit in domum suam. Grabatum is the reading of a in ver. 25. Marcion drew an argument from the calling of the publican (Levi)-- one under ban of the law--as if it were done in disparagement of the law. Tertullian reminds him in reply of the calling and confession of Peter, who was a representative of the law. Further, when he said that 'the whole need not a physician' Jesus declared that the Jews were whole, the publicans sick. _Publicanum_ adlectum a domino ... dicendo, _medicum sanis non esse necessarium sed male habentibus_... Luke v. 27-32: [27] Et post hoc exiit et vidit publicanum ... et ait illi, Sequere me.... [30] Et murmurabant Pharisaei et Scribae eorum... [31] et respondens Jesus dixit ad illos, Non egent qui sani sunt medico sed qui male habent. The question respecting the disciples of John is turned against Marcion, as a recognition of the Baptist's mission. If John had not prepared the way for Christ, if he had not actually baptized Him, if, in fact, there was that diversity between the two which Marcion assumed, no one would ever have thought of instituting a comparison between them or the conduct of their disciples. In His reply, 'that the children of the bridegroom could not fast,' Jesus virtually allowed the practice of the disciples of John, and excused, as only for a time, that of His own disciples. The very name, 'bridegroom,' was taken from the Old Testament (Ps. xix. 6 sq., Is. lxi. 10, xlix. 18, Cant. iv. 8); and its assumption by Christ was a sanction of marriage, and showed that Marcion did wrong to condemn the married state. Unde autem et Joannes venit in medium?... Si nihil omnino administrasset Joannes ... nemo _discipulos Christi manducantes et bibentes_ ad formam _discipulorum Joannis assidue jejunantium et orantium_ provocasset.... Nunc humiliter reddens rationem, quod _non possent jejunare filii sponsi quamdiu cum eis esset sponsus, postea vero jejunaturos_ promittens, _cum ablatus ab eis sponsus esset_. Luke v. 33-35: [33] At illi dixerunt ad eum, Quare discipuli Johannis jejunant frequenter et obsecrationes faciunt, ... tui autem edunt et bibunt? [34] Quibus ipse ait, Numquid potestis filios sponsi dum cum illis est sponsus facere jejunare? [35] Venient autem dies cum ablatus fuerit ab illis sponsus, tune jejunabunt in illis diebus. In ver. 33, for obsecrationes a has orationes, and for edunt manducant: a and b also have quamdiu (Vulg. cum) in ver. 35. Equally erroneous was Marcion's interpretation of the concluding verses of the chapter which dealt with the distinction between old and new. He indeed was intoxicated with 'new wine'--though the real 'new wine' had been prophesied as far back as Jer. iv. 4 and Is. xliii. 19--but He to whom belonged the new wine and the new bottles also belonged the old. The difference between the old and new dispensations was of developement and progression, not of diversity or contrariety. Both had one and the same Author. Errasti in illa etiam domini pronuntiatione qua videtur nova et vetera discernere. Inflatus es _utribus veteribus_ et excerebratus es _novo vino_: atque ita _veteri_, i.e. priori evangelio _pannum_ haereticae _novitatis adsuisli ... Venum novum_ is _non committit in veteres utres_ qui et veteres utres non habuerit, et _novum additamentum nemo inicit veteri vestimento_ nisi cui non defuerit vetus vestimentum. Luke v. 36-38: [36] Dicebat autem et similitudinem ad illos quia nemo commissuram a vestimento novo inmittit in vestimentum vetus.... [37] Et nemo mittit vinum novum in utres veteres.... [38] Sed vinum novum in utres novos mittendum est. Of the phrases peculiar to Tertullian's version of Marcion's text, a has pannum (-no) and adsuisti (-it). It is observed that Tertullian does not quote verse 39, which is omitted by D, a, b, c, c, ff, l, and perhaps, also by Eusebius. Two of the Scholia of Epiphanius (Adv. Haer. 322 D sqq.), nos. 1 and 2, have reference to this chapter. [Greek: Echul. a. Apelthon deixon seauton to hierei kai prosenenke peri tou katharismou sou, kathos prosetaxe Mousaes, hina ae marturion touto humin.] Luke v. 14. [Greek: Apeltheon deixon seauton to hierei, kai prosenenke peri tou katharismou sou, kathos prosetaxen Mousaes, eis marturion autois.] v.l. [Greek: hina eis marturion] (D'1, [Greek: ae] D'2) [Greek: humin touto] D, (a, b), c, ff, l. The comment of Epiphanius on this is similar to that of Tertullian. To bid the leper 'do as Moses commanded,' was practically to sanction the law of Moses. Epiphanius expressly accuses Marcion of falsifying the phrase 'for a testimony unto them.' He says that he changed 'them' to 'you,' without however, even in this perverted form, preventing the text from recoiling upon his own head [Greek: diestrepsas de to rhaeton, o Markion, anti tou eipein 'eis marturion autois' marturion legon 'humin.' kai touto saphos epseuso kata taes sautou kephalaes]. [Greek: Echol. B'. Hina de eidaete hoti exousian echei ho uhios tou anthropou aphienai hamartias epi taes gaes.] Luke v. 24. [Greek: Hina de eidaete hoti exousian echei ho uhios tou anthropou epi taes gaes aphienai hamartias.] In this order, [Hebrew aleph], A, C, D, rel., a, c, e, Syrr. Pst. and Hcl., (Memph.), Goth., Arm., Aeth.; [Greek: ex. ech.] after [Greek: ho, hu. t. a.], B, L, [Greek: Xi symbol], K, Vulg., b, f, g'1, ff, l. By calling Himself 'Son of Man,' Epiphanius says, our Lord asserts His proper manhood and repels Docetism, and, by claiming 'power upon earth,' He declares that earth not to belong to an alien creation. Reverting to Tertullian, we observe, (1) that the narrative of the draught of fishes, with the fear of Peter, and the promise _in this form_, 'Thou shalt catch men,' ([Greek: Mae phobou apo tou nun anthropous esae zogron]; the other Synoptists have, [Greek: Deute opiso mou, kai poiaeso humas halieis anthropon]), are found only in St. Luke; (2) that the second section of the chapter, the healing of the leper, is placed by the other Synoptists in a different order, by Mark immediately after our Lord's retirement into solitude (= Luke iv. 42-44), and by Matthew after the Sermon on the Mount; the phrase [Greek: eis marturion autois] is common to all three Gospels, but in the text of St. Luke alone is there the variant Ut sit vobis &c.; (3) that, while the remaining sections follow in the same order in all the Synoptics, still there is much to identify the text from which Tertullian is quoting with that of Luke. Thus, in the account of the case of Levi, the third Evangelist alone has the word [Greek: telonaen] (=publicanum) and [Greek: hugiainontes] (=sani; the other Gospels [Greek: ischontes] =valentes); in the question as to the practice of the disciples of John, he alone has the allusion to prayers ([Greek: deaeseis poiountai]) and the combination 'eat and drink' (the other Gospels, [Greek: ou naesteyousin]): he too has the simple [Greek: epiblaema], for [Greek: epiblaema rhakous agnaphou]. It seems quite incredible that these accumulated coincidences should be merely the result of accident. But this is only the beginning. The same kind of coincidences run uniformly all through the Gospel. From the next chapter, Luke vi, Marcion had, in due order, the plucking of the ears of corn on the sabbath day ('rubbing them with their hands,' Luke and Marcion alone), the precedent of David and his companions and the shewbread, the watching _of the Pharisees_ (so Luke only) to see if He would heal on the sabbath day, the healing of the withered hand--with an exact resemblance to the text of Luke and divergence from the other Gospels (licetne animam liberare an perdere? [Greek: psuchaen apolesai] Luke, [Greek: apokteinai] Mark), in the order and words of Luke alone, the retreat into the mountain for prayer, the selection of the twelve Apostles, and then, in a strictly Lucan form and introduced precisely at the same point, the Sermon on the Mount, the blessing on 'the poor' (not the 'poor in spirit'), on those 'who hunger' (not on those 'who hunger and thirst after righteousness'), on those 'who weep, for they shall laugh' (not on those 'who mourn, for they shall be comforted'), with an exact translation of St. Luke and difference from St. Matthew, the clause relating to those who are persecuted and reviled: then follow the 'woes;' to the rich, 'for ye have received your consolation;' to 'those who are full, for they shall hunger;' to 'those who laugh now, for they shall mourn:' and so on almost verse by verse. It is surely needless to go further. There are indeed very rarely what seem to be reminiscences of the other Gospels (e.g. 'esurierunt discipuli' in the parallel to Luke vi. 1), but the total amount of resemblance to St. Luke and divergence from St. Matthew and St. Mark is overwhelming. Of course the remainder of the evidence can easily be produced if necessary, but I do not think it will long remain in doubt that our present St. Luke was really the foundation of the Gospel that Marcion used. INDEX I. References to the Four Gospels. The asterisk indicates that the passage in question is discussed in some detail. _St. Matthew._ I. 1 2-6 18* 18 ff 18-25 21 23 II. 1 1-7 1-23 2 5,6 6 11 12 13 13-15 16 17,18 18 22. III. 2 4 8 10 11,12 15* 16 18 IV. 1 8-10 9 10 11 17 18 23 V. 1-48 3 4,5* 7* 8 10* 11 13,14 14 16* 17 17,18 18* 20 21-48 22 28 29 29,30 29,32 32 34* 37* 38,39 39,40 41 42 44,45 45* 46* 48 VI. 1 1-34 6 8 10 13 14 19 19,20 20 21 25-27 25-37 32* 32,33 VII. 1-29 2 6 7 9-11* 12 13,14* 15* 16 19 21* 22 22,23 28,29 VIII. 9 11 11,12 17 26 28-34 IX. 1-8 13* 16 17 22 29-31 33 X. 1 8 10 11* 13 15 16* 22 26 28* 29,30 33 38,39 40 XI. 5 7 10 11 12-15 18 26 25-27 27* 28 XII. 1-8* 7 9-14* 17-21 18-21 24 25* 26 31,32 34 41 42 43 48 XIII. 1-58 3 3ff 5 11 15 16 24-30 25 26* 34 35 37-39 38 39 42,43 XIV. 1 3 3-12 6 XV. 4-6 4-8* 4-9 8* 13 15 17 20 21-28 26 36 XVI. 1 1-4 4 15-18 16* 19 21 24 24,25 26 XVII. 3 5 11 11-13* 12,13 13 XVIII. 1-35 3* 6 7 8 8,9 10 19 XIX. 4 6* 8* 9 10-12 11,12* 12* 13 16,17* 17 19 22 26* XX. 8 16 19 20-28 XXI. 1 5 12,13 16 20-22 23 33 42 XXII. 9 11 14* 21 24 29 30 32 37 38 39 40 44* XXIII. 2 2,3 5 10 13 15 18 20 23 24 25 25,26* 27 29 35 XXIV. 1-51 3 14 45-51* XXV. 1-46 14-30 21 26,27 34 41* XXVI. 1-75 17,18 24* 30 31* 36,37 38 39 41 43 56 56,57 57 64* XXVII. 9 9,10* 11f. 14 35 39ff 42 43 46 57-60 XXVIII. 1 12-15 19. _St. Mark._ I. 1 2 4 17 22 24 26 II. 23-28* 28 III. 1-6* 17 23 25 29 IV. 1-34 11 12 33,34 34* V. 1-20 31 VI. 3 11 14 17-29 VII. 6* 6-13 7 10,11 11-13 13 21,22 24-30 VIII. 29 31 34 IX. 7 21 43 47 X. 5 5,6 6 8 9 17 18 19 21 22 27* 37-45 XI. 20-26 XII. 17 20 24 27* 29* 30 38-44 XIII. 2* 22 XIV. 12,13 12-14 40 51,52 XV. 14 34 XVI. 14-16 _St. Luke._ I. 1-4 1-80 3 6 7 7-10 8 9 12 13 15 17 18,19 19 20 20-22 21 23 24 26 27 28 29 31 32 33 34 34,35 35* 36 39 41 48 55 56 57 61 62 64 67 69 73 74 76 77 78 80 II. 1,2 1-52 4 6 7 8 11 13 14 15 16 18 19 20 21 21,22 22 24 25 26 27 28 29 33 34 35 36 37 39 40 41 42 43 45 46 48,49 49 50 51 52 66 III. 1 1-38 3 12-14 13 15 16 16,17 17 19 20 21 21,22 22 23 31-34 IV. 1 1-13 4 6 6-8 7 8 10 13 14 16 17 17-20 18,19 19 20 24 25 32 42,43 42-44 V. 1 1-11 1-39 12-14 14 17-26 24 27-32 32 33-35 36-38 39 VI. 1 1-5* 1-49 6-11* 13 14* 20* 27,28 29 30 31 32 34 35 36 36,37 36-38* 37,38 45 46* VII. 2* 8 11-18 12* 24-28 26 27 28 29-35 30 35 36-38 VIII. 1-3 5 10 19 23 26-39 41 IX. 5 7 17,18 20 22 55 57,58 60 61 61,62 62 X. 3 5,6 7* 10-12 16 18 19* 20 21 21,22 22 23 24 25 37 XI. 2 9 11-13* 14 17 22 29-32 32 39 42 47 49-51 52 XII. 4,5* 6,7 9 10 14 22-24 30 38 42-46* 48 50 XIII. 1 sqq. 1-9 6 7 7-8 24* 26,27 27 28 28,29 29 29-35 31-35 33 34 XIV. 27 XV. 4 8 11-32 13 14 17 18 20 22 24 25 26 29 XVI. 12 16 17* XVII. 1,2* 2 5-10 9 9,10 XVIII. 6-8 18,18 19 27* 31 31-34 34 35-43 XIX. 5 9 17 22,23 29 29-48 33-39 35 37 37-48 38 41 42 43 46 47 XX. 9 9-l8 14 17 19 21 22 22-25 24 25 35,36 35 37,38 38 XXI. 1-4 4 18 21 21,22 22 27 28 34 XXII. 9-11 16-18 17 18 18-36 19 19,20 28-30 30 35-38 37 38 42-44 43,44* 53,54 66 XXIII. 1 ff. 2 5 7 34 35 46 XXIV. 1 ff. 21 26 32 38,39 39* 40 42 46 47-53 49 50 5l 52 53 _St. John._ I. 1,2 1-3 3* 4 5* 9 13 14 18 19 19,20* 23* 28 II. 4 16,17 III. 3-5* 5* 6 8 12 14 16 36 IV. 6 V. 2 3,4 4 8 17 18 43 46 VI. 15 39 51 53 54* 55* 70 VII. 8 38 42 VIII. 17 40 44 IX. 1-3* X. 8 9* 23,24 27* 30 XI. 54 XII. 14,15 22 27 30 40 41 XIII. 18 XIV. 2 6 10 XV. 25 XVI. 2* 3 XVII. 3 11,12 14* XVIII. 36 XIX. 36 37* INDEX II. Chronological and Analytical. _Writer_. | _Works Extant_. | _Date_ | _Evangelical Documents | | A.D. | used_. | | | Clement of |One genuine Epistle | c.95- |Traces, perhaps Rome. | addressed to the | 100. | probable of the three | Philippians. | | Synoptics. | | | Barnabas. |Pseud-egraphical | c.100- |Probably St. Matthew, | Epistle | 125. | perhaps St. Luke, | | | possibly the fourth Gospel. | | | Ignatius. |Three short Epistles,| 107 or |Probably St. Matthew, | probably genuine. | 115. | and perhaps St. John. | [Spurious, S.R.] | | | | | |Seven short Epistles,| |Probably St. Matthew, | perhaps genuine. | | perhaps also St. John. | [Spurious, S.R.] | | | | | Hermas. |Allegorical work, | c.135- |No distinct traces of | entitled the | 140. | any writing of Old or | 'Shepherd.' | | New Testament. | | | Polycarp. |Short Epistle to | c.140- |Doubtful traces of | Philippians, | 155. | St. Matthew, probable | probably genuine. | | of 1 John. | [Spurious, S.R.] | | | | | Presbyters. |Quoted by Irenaeus. | c.140? |Probably St. John. | | | Papias. |Short fragments in | +155. |Some account of | Eusebius. |[see pp.| works written by | |145, 82;| St. Matthew and | |164-167,| St. Mark, but | |S.R.] | probably not our | | | present Gospels in | | | their present form. | | | Basilides. }|Allusions, not | c.125. |Certain use of }| certain, in | | St. Luke and St. John, }| Hippolytus, Clem. | | perhaps probably by Basilidians.}| Alex., Epiphanius, | | Basilides himself. | | | Marcion. |Copious references | c.140. |Certainly the third | in Tertullian and | | Gospel, with text | Epiphanius. | | already corrupt. | | | Justin |Two Apologies and | +148. |Three Synoptic Martyr. | Dialogue against | [166- | Gospels either | Tryphon. | 167, | separately or in | | S.R.] | Harmony, probably the | | | fourth Gospel, and also | | | an Apocryphal Gospel or | | | Gospels; text showing | | | marks of corruption. | | | |Old Latin translation| c.150. |Four Canonical | of N.T. | | Gospels, with | | | corrupt text. | | | Valentinus. }|Allusions, not | c.140. |References to all four }| certain in | | Gospels, but not clear Valentinians}| Hippolytus, &c. | before | by whom made. | | 178. | | | | Clement. |Nineteen pseudo- | c.160? |Four Canonical Gospels | epigraphical | | (possibly in a | | | Harmony), with other | | | Apocryphal sources | | | to some extent. | | | Hegesippus. |Few fragments |fl.157- |Apparent traces of | chiefly preserved | 180. | St. Matthew and | by Eusebius. | | St. Luke. | | | Tatian. |Few allusions, |fl.150- |Diatessaron, |'Address to Greeks.' | 170. | probably consisting | | | of our four Gospels, | | | quotations from | | | St. John in Orat. | | | ad Graec. | | | |Old Syriac | c.160? |Four Canonical Gospels, | Translation of N.T. | | with corrupt text. | | | |Muratorian Fragment | c.170. |Four Gospels as | | | Canonical. | | | Ptolomaeus. |Allusions in | before |Clear references | Irenaeus, &c., | 178. | to St. Matthew and | fragments in | | St. John. | Epiphanius. | | | | | Heracleon. |Allusions in | before |Third and fourth | Irenaeus, &c., | 178. | gospels. | fragments in Origen.| | | | | Melito. |Few slight fragments.| c.176. |Doubtful indirect | | | allusions to Canon | | | of N.T. | | | Apollinaris. |Two slight fragments.| 176- |Allusion to | | 180. | discrepancy | | | between Gospels, | | | fourth Gospel. | | | Athenagoras. |An Apology and tract | c.177. |One fairly clear | on the Resurrection.| | quotation from | | | St. Matthew, | | | perhaps from | | | St. Mark and | | | St. John. | | | Churches of |An Epistle. | 177. |Clear allusions to Vienne and | | | St. Luke and St. John, Lyons. | | | perhaps also to | | | St. Matthew. | | | Celsus. |Fragments in Origen. | c.178. |Somewhat vague traces | | | of all four Gospels. | | | Irenaeus. |Treatise 'Against | c.140- |Four Gospels as | Heresies.' | 202. | Canonical, with | | | corrupt text. | | | Clement of |Several considerable |fl.185- |Four Gospels as Alexandria | works. | 211. | Canonical, with | | | corrupt text. | | | Tertullian. |Voluminous works. |fl.198- |Four Gospels as | | 210. | Canonical, with | | | corrupt text. 
11509	----	Distributed Proofreaders THE LIFE OF JESUS CHRIST FOR THE YOUNG BY THE REV. RICHARD NEWTON, D.D. _ROYAL SCOTTISH ACADEMY_ VOL. III THE GALLERY OF THE LIFE OF JESUS CHRIST VOLUME III CONTENTS: I THE APOSTLES CHOSEN II THE GREAT TEACHER III CHRIST TEACHING BY PARABLES IV CHRIST TEACHING BY MIRACLES V CHRIST TEACHING LIBERALITY VI CHRIST TEACHING HUMILITY VII CHRIST AND THE LITTLE CHILDREN VIII THE TRANSFIGURATION IX THE LESSONS FROM OLIVET X THE LORD'S SUPPER ILLUSTRATIONS: MAP OF PALESTINE, IN COLORS 41. THE WOMAN OF CANAAN 42. SIMON PETER'S FAITH IN CHRIST 43. THE TRANSFIGURATION OF CHRIST 44. JESUS HEALETH A LUNATIC 45. LET HE WHO IS WITHOUT SIN AMONG YOU 46. ONE OF TEN LEPERS CURED IS GRATEFUL 47. JESUS, MARTHA, MARY, AND LAZARUS 48. JESUS BLESSETH LITTLE CHILDREN 49. THE RESURRECTION OF LAZARUS, FOUR DAYS DEAD 50. CONVERSION OF ZACCHAEUS, A PUBLICAN 51. JESUS RESTORETH SIGHT TO BARTIMAEUS 52. CHRIST'S TRIUMPHAL ENTRY INTO JERUSALEM 53. CHRIST AVOUCHETH HIS AUTHORITY 54. AT NIGHT, JESUS ABODE ON THE MOUNT OF OLIVES 55. JESUS WASHETH HIS DISCIPLES' FEET 56. THE BETRAYAL FORETOLD AT THE SUPPER 57. IN THE GARDEN OF GETHSEMANE 58. THE ARREST OF JESUS 59. JESUS EXAMINED BY CAIAPHAS 60. JESUS IS THRICE DENIED BY PETER THE APOSTLES CHOSEN As soon as he returned victorious from the temptation in the wilderness, Jesus entered on the work of his public ministry. We find him, at once, preaching to the people, healing the sick, and doing many wonderful works. The commencement of his ministry is thus described by St. Matt. iv: 23-25. "And Jesus went about all Galilee, teaching in their synagogues, and preaching the gospel of the kingdom, and healing all manner of sickness, and all manner of disease among the people. And his fame went throughout all Syria; and they brought unto him all sick people that were taken with divers diseases and torments, and those which were possessed with devils, and those which were lunatic, and those that had the palsy; and he healed them. And there followed him great multitudes of people from Galilee, and from Decapolis, and from Jerusalem, and from Judea, and from beyond Jordan." What a blessed beginning of the most blessed of all ministries this was! He came to bless our world. He did bless it, as no one else could have done. And here, we see, how he entered on his work. And one of the first things he did, after thus beginning his ministry, was to gather his disciples round him. The first two that we find named among his disciples are John and Andrew. They had been disciples of John the Baptist. Their master pointed them to Jesus, and said--"Behold the Lamb of God." When they heard this they followed Jesus, and became his disciples. When Andrew met with his brother Simon Peter, he said to him "we have found the Messias--the Christ. And he brought him to Jesus." After this we are told that "Jesus findeth Philip, and saith unto him, Follow me." He was an acquaintance of Andrew and Peter, and lived in the same town with them. He obeyed the call at once and became one of the disciples of Jesus. Philip had a friend named Nathanael. The next time he met him, he said, "we have found him of whom Moses in the law, and the prophets did write, Jesus of Nazareth, the son of Joseph." But Nazareth was a despised place, and had a bad reputation. Nathanael had a very poor opinion of the place, and he asked--"Can there any good thing come out of Nazareth?" Philip saith unto him--"Come and see." And this is what we should say to persons when we wish them to become Christians. There is so much that is lovely and excellent in Jesus that if people will only "come and see," if they will only prove for themselves what a glorious Saviour he is, they will find it impossible to help loving and serving him. Nathanael came to Jesus. And when he heard the wonderful words that Jesus spoke to him he was converted at once, and expressed his wonder by saying--"Rabbi, thou art the Son of God; thou art the King of Israel." We can read all about this in John i: 43-51. Nathanael became a disciple of Jesus, and one of the twelve apostles, and is supposed to be the same one who bears the name of Bartholomew in the different lists of the apostles. After this we read of Jesus calling Matthew the publican, who was a tax-gatherer. This is what is meant by his "sitting at the receipt of custom." "Follow me," were the words spoken to him. He obeyed at once; left all and followed Jesus. St. Luke and St. Mark mention this same call, but they give the name of Levi to the person thus called. This is not strange, for it was common among the Jews for persons to have two names. Sometimes they were called by one of these names and sometimes by the other. Here we have the account of six persons, who became disciples of Jesus; and of the different ways in which they were led to follow him. No doubt many others were led to become his disciples from simply hearing him preach; and from listening to the gracious words that he spoke. And very soon after he had gathered together a large company of disciples, he made choice of twelve, out of this number, who were to be his apostles. He wished these men to be with him all the time. They were to hear his teaching, and see his miracles, and so be prepared to take his place, and carry on his work when he should return to heaven. It was necessary for these men to be chosen. When Washington was appointed to conduct our armies during the Revolution, he chose a number of generals to help him. And it is natural for us to think of Washington and his generals. But just as natural it is to think of--Jesus and his apostles. And this is the subject we have now to consider--_The Apostles Chosen_. And in considering this subject there are four things of which to speak. _The first, is the condition and character of the men whom Jesus chose as his apostles. The second, is the work these men were called to do. The third, is the help that was given them in doing this work; and The fourth, is the lesson taught us by this subject._ Or, to make the points of the subject as short as possible, we may state them thus: _The men. The work. The help. The lesson. We begin then with speaking of_--THE MEN--_or the condition and character of those whom Jesus chose to be his apostles or helpers_. Now we might have thought that Jesus would have chosen his apostles, or helpers, from among the angels of heaven. They are so wise, and good, and strong, that we wonder why he did not choose them. But he did not. He chose _men_ to be his apostles. And what kind of men did he choose? If we had been asked this question beforehand, we should have supposed that he would certainly have chosen the wisest and the most learned men, the richest and greatest men that could be found in the world. But it was not so. Instead of this he chose poor men, unlearned men, men that were not famous at all; and who had not been heard of before. Fishermen, and tax-gatherers, and men occupying very humble positions in life, were those whom Jesus chose to be his apostles. And one reason, no doubt, why Jesus made choice of men of this character to be his apostles was that when their work was done, no one should be able to say that it was the learning, or wisdom, or riches, or power of men by whom that work was accomplished. The apostle Paul teaches us that this is the way in which God generally acts; and that he does it for the very reason just spoken of. He says, "God hath chosen the foolish things of the world to confound the wise; and God hath chosen the weak things of the world to confound the mighty; and base things of the world, and things which are despised hath God chosen, yea, and things which are not, to bring to nought the things that are; that no flesh should glory in his presence." I. Cor. i: 27-29. The meaning of this passage is that God loves to work by little things. This was the reason why Jesus chose poor, unlearned fishermen to be his apostles. And we see God working in the same way continually. Look at yonder sun. God made it, and hung it up there in the sky that it might give light to our world. But the light which this sun gives comes to us in tiny little bits, smaller than the point of the finest needle that ever was made. They are so small that hundreds of them can rush right into our eyes, as they are doing all the time, and not hurt them the least. Here we see how God makes use of little things, and does a great work with them. And then look at yonder ocean. The waves of that ocean are so powerful that they can break in pieces the strongest ships that men have ever built. And yet, when God wishes to keep that mighty ocean in its place, he makes use of little grains of sand for this purpose. Here again we see how God employs little things, and does a great work with them. And we find God working in this way continually. Let us look at one or two illustrations. "What a Plant Did." A little plant was given to a sick girl. In trying to take care of it, the family made changes in their way of living, which added greatly to their comfort and happiness. First, they cleaned the window, that more light might come in to the leaves of the plant. Then, when not too cold, they opened the window, that fresh air might help the plant to grow; and this did the family good, as well as the plant. Next the clean window made the rest of the room look so untidy that they washed the floor, and cleaned the walls, and arranged the furniture more neatly. This led the father of the family to mend a broken chair or two, which kept him at home several evenings. After this, he took to staying at home with his family in the evenings, instead of spending his time at the tavern; and the money thus saved went to buy comforts for them all. And then, as their home grew more pleasant, the whole family loved it better than ever before, and they grew healthier and happier with their flowers. What a little thing that plant was, and yet it was God's apostle to that family! It did a great work for them in blessing them and making them happy. And _that_ was work that an angel would have been glad to do. "Brought In by a Smile." A London minister said to a friend one day; "Seven persons were received into my church last Sunday, and they were all brought in by a smile." "Brought in by a smile! Pray what do you mean?" "Let me explain. Several months ago, as I passed a certain house on my way to church, I saw, held in the arms of its nurse, a beautiful infant; and as it fixed its bright black eyes on me, I smiled, and the dear child returned the smile. The next Sabbath the babe was again before the window. Again I smiled, and the smile was returned, as before. The third Sabbath, as I passed by the window, I threw the little one a kiss. Instantly its hand was extended and a kiss thrown back to me. And so it came to pass that I learned to watch for the baby on my way to church; and as the weeks went by, I noticed that the nurse and the baby were not alone. Other members of the family pressed to the window to see the gentleman who always had a smile for the dear baby--the household pet. "One Sunday morning, as I passed, two children, a boy and a girl, stood at the window beside the baby. That morning the father and mother had said to those children: 'Get ready for church, for we think that the gentleman who always smiles to the baby is a minister. When he passes you may follow him, and see where he preaches.' "The children were quite willing to follow the suggestion of their parents, and after I had passed, the door opened, and the children stepped upon the pavement, and kept near me, till I entered my church, when they followed me, and seats were given them. "When they returned home, they sought their parents and eagerly exclaimed: 'He is a minister, and we have found his church, and he preached a beautiful sermon this morning. You must go and hear him next Sunday.' "It was not difficult to persuade the parents to go, and guided by their children they found their way to the church. They, too, were pleased, and other members of the family were induced to come to the house of God. God blessed what they heard to the good of their souls, and seven members of this family have been led to become Christians, and join the church, and, I repeat what I said before: 'they were all brought in by a smile.'" What a little thing a smile is! And yet, here we see how God made use of so small a thing as this, to make seven persons Christians, and to save their souls forever! Of the God who can work in this way, it may well be said that he loves to work by little things. It is the way in which he is working continually. How eagerly, then, we may try to learn and to practise what has been very sweetly expressed in THE MITE SONG. "Only a drop in the bucket, But every drop will tell, The bucket would soon be empty, Without the drops in the well. "Only a poor little penny, It was all I had to give; But as pennies make the dollars, It may help some cause to live. "A few little bits of ribbon, And some toys--they were not new, But they made the sick child happy, And that made me happy, too. "Only some out-grown garments; They were all I had to spare; But they'll help to clothe the needy, And the poor are everywhere. "A word now and then of comfort, That cost me nothing to say; But the poor old man died happy, And it helped him on the way. "God loveth the cheerful giver, Though the gifts be poor and small; But what must he think of his children Who never give at all?" God loves to work by little means. We see this when we think of the men whom Jesus chose to be his apostles. The first thing about this subject is--_the men_. _The second thing to speak of, in connection with this subject, is_--THE WORK--_they had to do_. What this work was we find fully stated in the fourteenth chapter of St. Matthew. In this chapter Jesus told the apostles all about the work they were to do for him, and how they were to do it. In the seventh and eighth verses of this chapter we have distinctly stated just what they were to do. "As ye go, preach, saying, The kingdom of heaven is at hand; Heal the sick, cleanse the lepers, raise the dead, cast out devils." On this occasion Jesus sent his apostles to do the work committed to them, not among the Gentiles, but only among the Jews; or as he calls them--"the lost sheep of the house of Israel," v. 5,6. But, after his resurrection, and just before he went up to heaven, he enlarged their commission. His parting command to them then was--"_Go ye into all the world, and preach the gospel to every creature_." St. Mark xvi: 15. When Jesus, their Master, went to heaven they were to take up and carry on the great work that he had begun. Those twelve men were to begin the work of changing the religion of the world. They were to overturn the idols that had been worshiped for ages. They were to shut up the temples in which those idols had been worshiped. They were to "turn men from darkness to light, and from the power of Satan unto God." Acts xxvi: 18. They were to go up and down the world, everywhere, telling the wondrous story of Jesus and his love. And in doing this work they were to be the means of saving the souls of all who believed their message, and in the end of winning the world back to Jesus, till, according to God's promise, he has "the heathen for his inheritance, and the utmost parts of the earth for his possession." Ps. ii: 8. This was the grandest and most important work that men were ever called upon to do. The apostles spent their lives in doing this work; and then they left it for others to carry on. The work is not finished yet. And, if we learn to love and serve Jesus, we may help to carry it on. We may be apostles, too, though in a lower sense than that in which the first twelve were apostles. An apostle means--one _sent_. But Jesus _sends_ into the vineyard to work for him all who become his loving children. And, in this sense it is true that all who love and serve Jesus are his apostles. He says to each of us--"Go, work to-day, in my vineyard." St. Matt, xxi: 28. And in another place he says--"Let him that heareth, say, Come." Rev. xxii: 17. And when we are trying to tell people of Jesus and his love, and to bring them to him, then we are helping to carry on the same great work that Jesus gave his apostles to do. Let us look at some examples of persons who have been apostles for God and helped to do the work of apostles. "Aunt Lucy." I heard the other day of a good old woman in the State of Michigan, known as Aunt Lucy. She is eighty-four years old, and lives all alone, supporting herself principally by carpet-weaving. All that she can save from her earnings, after paying for her necessary expenses, she spends in buying Bibles, which she distributes among the children and the poor of the neighborhood. Thirteen large family Bibles, and fifty small ones, have thus been given away--good, well-bound Bibles. A neighbor, who has watched this good work very closely, says that two-thirds of the persons to whom Aunt Lucy has given Bibles have afterwards become Christians. In doing this work Aunt Lucy was an apostle. "The Charcoal Carrier." One Sunday afternoon, in summer, a little girl named Mary, going home from a Sunday-school in the country, sat down to rest under the shade of a tree by the roadside. While sitting there she opened her Bible to read. As she sat reading, a man, well known in that neighborhood as Jacob, the charcoal carrier, came by with his donkey. Jacob used to work in the woods, making charcoal, which he carried away in sacks on his donkey's back, and sold. He was not a Christian man, and was accustomed to work with his donkey as hard on Sunday as on week-days. When he came by where Mary was sitting, he stopped a moment, and said, in a good-natured way: "What book is that you are reading, my little maid?" "It is God's book--the Bible," said Mary. "Let me hear you read a little in it, if you please," said he, stopping his donkey. Mary began at the place where the book was open, and read:--"Remember the Sabbath day, to keep it holy. Six days shalt thou labor, and do all thy work." "There, that's enough," said Jacob, "and now tell me what it means." "It means," said Mary, "that you mustn't carry charcoal, on Sunday, nor let your donkey carry it." "Does it?" said Jacob, musing a little. "I tell you what then, I must think over what you have said." And he _did_ think over it. And the result of his thinking was, that instead of going with his donkey to the woods on the next Sunday, he went with his two little girls to the Sunday-school. And the end of it all was that Jacob, the charcoal carrier, became a Christian, and God's blessing rested on him and his family. Little Mary was doing an apostle's work when she read and explained the Bible to Jacob and was the means of bringing him to Jesus. "The Use of Fragments." In the Cathedral at Lincoln, England, there is a window of stained glass which was made by an apprentice out of little pieces of glass that had been thrown aside by his master as useless. It is said to be the most beautiful window in the Cathedral. And if, like this apprentice, we carefully gather up, and improve the little bits of time, of knowledge, and of opportunities that we have, we may do work for God more beautiful than that Cathedral window. We may do work like that which the apostles were sent to do. Here are some sweet lines, written by I know not whom, about that beautiful window, made out of the little pieces of glass: "Great things are made of fragments small, Small things are germs of great; And, of earth's stately temples, all To fragments owe their weight. "This window, peer of all the rest, Of fragments small is wrought; Of fragments that the artist deemed Unworthy of his thought. "And thus may we, of little things, Kind words and gentle deeds, Add wealth or beauty to our lives, Which greater acts exceeds. "Each victory o'er a sinful thought, Each action, true and pure, Is, 'mid our life's engraving, wrought In tints that shall endure." The second thing about the apostles is, _the work_--they did. _The third thing, for us to notice about the apostles, is_--THE HELP--_they received_. In one place, we are told that Jesus "gave them power against unclean spirits, to cast them out, and to heal all manner of sickness, and all manner of disease." St. Matt. x: 1. In another place we are told, that for their comfort and encouragement in the great work they had to do, Jesus said to them, "Lo, I am with you always, even unto the end of the world." St. Matt. xxviii: 20. And if they only had Jesus with them, no matter what the work was they had to do, they would be sure of having all the help they might need. The apostle Paul understood this very well, for he said, "I can do all things through Christ, which strengtheneth me." Phil. iv: 13. And then, as if his own presence with them were not enough, Jesus promised that his apostles should have the help of the Holy Spirit in carrying on their work. Just before leaving them to go to heaven, he said to the disciples--"Ye shall receive power, after that the Holy Ghost is come upon you." Acts i: 8. And what this power was we see in the case of the apostle Peter; for the first sermon he preached after the Holy Ghost came upon him, on the day of Pentecost, was the means of converting three thousand souls. Acts ii: 41. And the same God who gave the apostles all the help they needed, has promised to do the same for you, and me, and for all who try to work for him. There are many promises of this kind in the Bible to which I might refer. But I will only mention one. This is so sweet and precious that it deserves to be written in letters of gold. There is no passage in the Bible that has given me so much comfort and encouragement in trying to work for God as this I refer here to Is. xli: 10. "Fear thou not; for I am with thee; be not dismayed; for I am thy God; I will strengthen thee; yea--I WILL HELP THEE." This promise was not given for prophets and apostles only, but for all God's people to the end of time. You and I, if we are trying to serve God, may take it as ours. God meant it for us. And when we get this promised help from God, we can do any work he has for us to do, and be happy in doing it. "For Thine is the Power." "I can't do it--it's quite impossible. I've tried five times, and can't get it right"--and Ben Hartley pushed his book and slate away in despair. Ben was a good scholar. He was at the head of his class, and was very anxious to stay there. But the sums he had now to do were very hard. He could not do them, and was afraid of losing his place in the class. Most of the boys had some one at home to help them; but Ben had no one. His father was dead, and his mother, though a good Christian woman, had not been to school much when a girl, and she could not help Ben. Mrs. Hartley felt sorry for her son's perplexity, and quietly said, "Then, Ben, you don't believe in the Lord's prayer?" "The Lord's prayer, mother! Why, there's nothing there to help a fellow do his sums." "O, yes; there is. There is help for every trouble in life in the Lord's prayer, if we only know how to use it. I was trying a long time before I found out what the last part of this prayer really means. I'm no minister, or scholar, Ben, but I'll try and show you. You know that in this prayer we ask God for our daily bread; we ask him to keep us from evil; and to forgive us our sins; and then we say: 'for _thine_ is the _kingdom_, and _the power_, and the glory.' It's God's power that we rely on--not our own; and it often helps me, Ben, when I have something hard to do. I say, 'For _thine_ is the power--this is my duty, heavenly Father; but I can't do it myself; give me thy power to help me,' and he does it, Ben, he does it." Ben sat silent. It seemed almost too familiar a prayer. And yet he remembered when he had to stay home from school because he had no clothes fit to go in, how he prayed to God about it, and the minister's wife brought him a suit the very next day. "But a boy's sums, mother! it seems like such a little thing to ask God about." "Those sums are not a little thing to you, Ben. Your success at school depends on your knowing how to do them. _That_, is as much to you, as many a greater thing to some one else. Now I care a great deal about that, because I love you. And I know your Father in heaven loves you more than I do. I would gladly help you, if I could; but he _can_ help you. His 'is the power;' ask him to help you." After doing an errand for his mother, Ben picked up his book and slate and went up to his little room. Kneeling down by the bed he repeated the Lord's prayer. When he came to--"thine is the kingdom," he stopped a moment, and then said, with all his heart--"'And thine is the power,' heavenly Father. I want power to know how to do these sums. There's no one else to help me. Lord, please give me power, for Jesus' sake, Amen." Ben waited a moment, and then, still on his knees, he took his slate and tried again. Do you ask me if he succeeded? Remember what Saint James says, "If any man lack wisdom let him ask of God, who giveth to all men liberally, and upbraideth not: _and it shall be given him_." Jas. i: 5. That is God's promise, and heaven and earth must pass away before one of his promises shall fail. Ben had prayed to God to help him, and God answered his prayer. He tried once more to work out those sums. After thinking over them a little while, he saw the mistake he had made in neglecting one of the rules for working the sums. He corrected this mistake, and then he found they all worked out beautifully. The next day he was head of the class; for he was the only boy who could say that he had done the sum himself, without getting any one at home to help him. "And yet I was helped, mother," said Ben, "for I am sure my Father in heaven helped me." But that was not what the teacher meant. After this, Ben never forgot the last part of the Lord's prayer. When he needed help he knew where the power was that could help him. Here was where the apostles got the help they needed in doing the hard work they had to do. And how much help we might get in doing our work if we only make a right use of this "power which belongeth unto God;" and which he is always ready to use in helping us. The help they received, is the third thing to remember when we think about the apostles and their work. _The last thing to bear in mind when we think of Jesus choosing his twelve apostles, is_--THE LESSON--_it teaches us_. There are many lessons we might learn from this subject; but there is one so much more important than all the rest that we may very well let them go, and think only of this one. When St. Luke tells us about Jesus choosing the twelve apostles, he mentions one very important thing, of which St. Matthew, in his account of it says nothing at all. And it is this thing from which we draw our lesson. In the twelfth verse of the sixth chapter of his gospel, St. Luke says--"And it came to pass in those days, that he (Jesus) went out into a mountain to pray, and _continued all night in prayer to God_." And after this, the first thing he did, in the morning, was to call his disciples to him, and out of them to choose the twelve, who were to be his apostles. And the lesson we learn from this part of the subject is: "The Lesson of Prayer." Jesus spent the whole night in prayer to God, before he chose his apostles. How strange this seems to us! And yet it is easy enough to see at least two reasons why he did this. One was because _he loved to pray_. We know how pleasant it is for us to meet, and talk with a person whom we love very much. But prayer is--talking with God--telling him what we want, and asking his help. But Jesus loved his Father in heaven, with a love deeper and stronger than we can understand. This must have made it the most delightful of all things for him to be engaged in prayer, or in talking with his Father in heaven. And, if we really love Jesus, prayer will not be a hard duty to us, but a sweet privilege. We shall love to pray, because, in prayer we are talking to that blessed Saviour, "whom, not having seen, we love." And this was one reason why Jesus spent the whole night in prayer, before choosing his twelve apostles. But there was another reason why Jesus spent so much time in prayer before performing this important work, and that was to _set us an example_. It was to teach us the very lesson of which we are now speaking--the lesson of prayer. Remember how much power and wisdom Jesus had in himself; and what mighty things he was able to do. And yet, if _He_ felt that it was right to pray before engaging in any important work, how much more necessary it is for us to do so! Let us learn this lesson well. Let it be the rule and habit of our lives to connect prayer with everything we do. This will make us happy in our own souls, and useful to those about us. How full the Bible is of the wonders that have been wrought by prayer! Just think for a moment of some of them. Abraham prays, and Lot is delivered from the fiery flood that overwhelmed Sodom and Gomorrah. Gen. xix: 29. Jacob prays, and he wrestles with the angel, and obtains the blessing; his brother Esau's mind is wonderfully turned away from the wrath he had cherished for twenty years. Moses prays and Amalek is discomfited. Joshua prays and Achan is discovered. Hannah prays and Samuel is born. David prays and Ahithophel hangs himself. Elijah prays and a famine of three years comes upon Israel. He prays again, and the rain descends, and the famine ends. Elisha prays, and Jordan is divided. He prays again, and the dead child's soul is brought back from the invisible world. Isaiah and Hezekiah pray, and a hundred and eighty-five thousand Assyrian soldiers are slain in one night by the unseen sword of the angel. These are Bible illustrations of the help God gives to his people in answer to prayer. And the Bible rule for prayer, as given by our Saviour, is, "that men ought _always_ to pray," Luke xviii: 1. St. Paul's way of stating it is--"Praying always, with all prayer," Ephes. vi: 18. In another place he says--"Pray without ceasing," I. Thess. v: 17. And even the heathen teach the same rule about prayer. Among the rules of Nineveh, an inscription on a tablet has been found, which, on being translated, proved to contain directions about prayer. It may be entitled: "An Assyrian Call to Prayer." These are the words of the call: "Pray thou! pray thou! Before the couch, pray! Before the throne, pray! Before the canopy, pray! Before the building of the lofty head, pray! Before the rising of the dawn, pray! Before the fire, pray! By the tablets and papyri, pray! By the side of the river, pray! By the side of a ship, or riding in a ship, or leaving the ship, pray! At the rising of the sun, or the setting of the sun, pray! On coming out of the city, on entering the city, pray! On coming out of the great gate, on entering the great gate, pray! On coming out of the house, pray! on entering the house, pray! In the place of judgment, pray! In the temple, pray!" This is like the Bible rule of--"praying always." "Praying for a Dinner." "Grandma, aren't we going to church this morning?" asked a little girl. "My child, we have had no breakfast, and have no dinner to eat when we come back," said her grandma. "But the Lord Jesus can give it to us if we ask him," said the little girl. "Let's ask him." So they kneeled down, and asked that God, "who feedeth the young ravens when they cry," to remember them, and help them. Then they went to church. They found it very much crowded. An old gentleman took the little girl upon his knee. He was pleased with her quiet behaviour. On parting with her at the close of the service, he slipped a half crown into her hand. "See, Grandma," she said, as soon as they were out of church, "Jesus has sent us our dinner." But when we ask God to help us, we must always try to help ourselves. "Working as well as Praying." Two little girls went to the same school; one of them, named Mary, always said her lessons well, the other, named Jane, always failed. One day Jane said, "Mary, how does it happen that you always say your lessons so well?" Mary said she prayed over her lessons, and _that_ was the secret of her success. Jane concluded to try praying. But the next day she failed worse than ever. In tears, she reproached Mary for deceiving her. "But, did you study hard, as well as pray over your lesson?" asked Mary. "No; I thought if I only prayed, that was all I had to do," replied Jane. "Not at all. God only helps those who try to help themselves. You must study hard as well as pray, if you wish to get your lessons well," was Mary's wise answer. The next day Jane studied, as well as prayed, and she had her lesson perfectly. The greatest work we can ever do, is to bring a soul to Jesus, or to convert a sinner from the error of his way. Here is an illustration of the way in which this may be done by prayer and effort combined: "The Coachman and His Prayer." "I was riding once, on the top of a stage-coach," said a Christian gentleman, "when the driver by my side began to swear in a dreadful manner. I lifted up my heart for God's blessing on what I said; and presently, in a quiet way, I asked him this question: 'Driver, do you ever pray?' He seemed displeased at first; but after awhile he replied, 'I sometimes go to church on Sunday; and then I suppose I pray, don't I?' 'I am afraid you never pray at all; for no man can swear as you do, and yet be in the habit of praying to God.' "As we rode along he seemed thoughtful. 'Coachman, I wish you would pray now,' I said. '"Why, what a time to pray, Sir, when a man is driving a coach!"' 'Yet, my friend, God will hear you,' '"What shall I pray?"' he asked, in a low voice. 'Pray these words: '"O Lord, grant me thy Holy Spirit, for Christ's sake. Amen."' He hesitated, but in a moment he repeated them; and then, at my request, he said them over a second, and a third time. The end of the journey was reached, and I left him. "Some months passed away, and we met once more. 'Ah, Sir,' said he, with a smile, 'the prayer you taught me on that coach-box was answered. I saw myself a lost, and ruined sinner; but now, I humbly hope, that through the blood which cleanseth from all sin, and by the power of the Holy Spirit, I am a converted man.'" And so, when we think of the twelve apostles, appointed by Jesus to preach his gospel, these are the four things for us to remember in connection with them, viz.:--_the men_ whom he chose; _the work_ they had to do; _the help_ given them in doing that work; and _the lesson_ we are taught by this subject--the lesson of prayer. Whatever we have to do, let us do it with all our hearts, and do it as for God, and then we shall be his apostles--his sent ones. Let me put the application of this subject in the form of some earnest, practical lines that I lately met with. The lines only speak of boys, but they apply just as well to girls. They are headed: DRIVE THE NAIL. "Drive the nail aright, boys, Hit it on the head, Strike with all your might, boys, While the iron's red. "Lessons you've to learn, boys, Study with a will; They who reach the top, boys, First must climb the hill. "Standing at the foot, boys, Gazing at the sky, How can you get up, boys, If you never try? "Though you stumble oft, boys, Never be downcast; Try and try again, boys, You'll succeed at last. "Ever persevere, boys, Tho' your task be hard; Toil and happy cheer, boys, Bring their own reward. "Never give it up, boys, Always say you'll try; Joy will fill your cup, boys, Flowing by and by." THE GREAT TEACHER Teaching was the great business of the life of Christ during the days of his public ministry. He was _sent_ to teach and to preach. The speaker in the book of Job was thinking of this Great Teacher when he asked--"_Who teacheth like him_?" Job xxxvi: 22. And it was he who was in the Psalmist's mind when he spoke of the "good, and upright Lord" who would teach sinners, if they were meek, how to walk in his ways. Ps. xxv: 8-9. And he is the Redeemer, of whom the prophet Isaiah was telling when he said--He would "_teach us to profit_, and _would lead us by the way that we should go_." And thus we know how true was what Nicodemus said of him, that "he was a _teacher sent from God_." John iii: 2. Thus what was said of Jesus, before he came into our world, would naturally lead us to expect to find him occupied in teaching. And so he _was_ occupied, all through the days of his public ministry. St. Matthew tells us that--"Jesus went about all Galilee, _teaching_ in their synagogues." Ch. iv: 23. Further on in his gospel he tells us again that "Jesus went about all the cities, and villages, teaching in their synagogues." Ch. ix: 35. When on his trial before Pilate, his enemies brought it as a charge against him that he had been--"_teaching_ throughout all Jewry." Luke xxiii: 5. We read in one place that--"the elders of the people came unto him _as he was teaching_." Matt. xxi: 23. Jesus himself gave this account of his life work to his enemies--"I sat _daily_ with you _teaching_ in the temple." Matt. xxvi: 55. And so we come now to look at the life of Christ from this point of view--as a Teacher. There never was such a Teacher. We do not wonder at the effect of his teaching of which we read in St. John vii: 46, when the chief priests sent some of their officers to take him prisoner, and bring him unto them; the officers went, and joined the crowd that was listening to his preaching. His words had such a strange effect on them that they could not think of touching him. So they went back to their masters without doing what they had been sent to do. "And when the chief priests and Pharisees said unto them--Why have ye not brought him? The officers answered, _Never man spake like this man_." Jesus was indeed--_The Great Teacher_. In this light we are now to look at him. And as we do this we shall find that there were _five_ great things about his teaching which made him different from any other teacher the world has ever known. _In the first place Jesus may well be called the Great Teacher, because of the_--GREAT BLESSINGS--_of which he came to tell_. We find some of these spoken of at the opening of his first great sermon to his disciples, called "The Sermon on the Mount." This is the most wonderful sermon that ever was preached. Jesus began it by telling about some of the great blessings he had brought down from heaven for poor sinful creatures such as we are. The sermon begins in the fifth chapter of St. Matthew, and the first twelve verses of the chapter are occupied in speaking of these blessings. As soon as he opened his mouth and began to speak a stream of blessings flowed out. It was a beautiful thought, on this subject, which a boy in Sunday-school once had. The teacher had been talking to his class about the beginning of this sermon on the mount. He had spoken of the sweetness of the words of Jesus, when "He opened his mouth and taught" his disciples. "How pleasant it must have been, my dear boys," said he, "to have seen the blessed Saviour, and to have heard him speak!" A serious-minded little fellow in the class said, "Teacher, don't you think that when Jesus opened his mouth, and began to speak to his disciples, it must have been like taking the stopper out of a scent bottle?" I cannot tell whether this boy had ever read the words of Solomon or not; but he had just the same idea that was in his mind when he said of this "Great Teacher," "thy name is _as ointment poured forth_." Cant, i: 3. We perceive the fragrance of this ointment as soon as Jesus opens his mouth and begins to speak. If we had been listening to Jesus when he began this sermon, saying:--" Blessed are the poor in spirit; blessed are the meek; blessed are the pure in heart; blessed are the peace-makers"--and so on till he had spoken of _nine_ different kinds of blessing, we might have thought that he had nothing but blessings of which to tell. It would have seemed as if his mind, and heart, and lips, and hands were all so filled with blessings that he could do nothing else till he had told about these. And the blessings spoken of here are not all the blessings that Jesus brought. They are only specimens of them. The blessings he has obtained for us are innumerable. David says of them, "If I would declare and speak of them they are more than can be numbered." Ps. xl: 5. And these blessings are not only very numerous, but very _great_. Look at one or two of these blessings that Jesus, the Great Teacher, brings to us. He says, "Blessed are they that mourn, for they shall be comforted." Jesus came to bring comfort to the mourners. Hundreds of years before Christ came the prophet Isaiah had said of him that he would come to "_comfort all that mourn_." Is. lxi: 2. And to show how complete this blessing would be which he was to bring, Jesus said himself--"_As one whom his mother comforteth_ --_so will I comfort you_." Is. lxvi: 13. A young girl was dying. A friend who came in to see her said: "I trust you have a good hope." "No," she answered, distinctly; "I am not hoping--I am certain. My salvation was finished on the cross. My soul is saved. Heaven is mine. I am going to Jesus." What a great blessing it is to have comfort like that! When Jesus was speaking to the woman of Samaria, as he sat by Jacob's well, he compared the blessing of his grace to the water of that well. Pointing to the well at his side, he said: "Whosoever drinketh of this water will thirst again. But whosoever drinketh of the water that I shall give him, shall never thirst; but the water that I shall give him, shall be _in him, a well of water, springing up unto everlasting life_." John iv: 13, 14. This is one of the most beautiful illustrations of the blessing Jesus gives that ever was used. It is a great blessing to have a well of clear, cold water in our garden, or near our door. But, only think of having a well of water _in our hearts_. Then, wherever we go, we carry that well with us. We never have to go away from it. No one can separate between us and the water of this well. Other wells dry up and fail. But this is a well that never dries up, and never fails. This well is deep, and its water is all the time "springing up unto everlasting life." How happy they are in whose breasts Jesus opens this well of water! Coleridge, the English poet, in writing to a young friend, just before his death, said: "Health is a great blessing; wealth, gained by honest industry, is a great blessing; it is a great blessing to have kind, faithful, loving friends and relatives, _but, the greatest, and best of all blessings is to be a Christian_." One of the most able and learned lawyers that England ever had was John Selden. He was so famous for his learning and knowledge that he is always spoken of as "the learned Selden." On his deathbed he said--"I have taken much pains to know everything that was worth knowing among men; but with all my reading and all my knowledge, nothing now remains with me to comfort me at the close of life but these precious words of St. Paul: 'This a faithful saying, and worthy of all acceptation, that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners;' to this I cling. In this I rest. This gives me peace, and comfort, and enables me to die happy." William Wilberforce was another of the great and good men who have been a blessing and an honor to England. When he was on his deathbed, he said to a dear friend: "Come, let us talk of heaven. Do not weep for me. I am very happy. But I never knew what happiness was till I found Christ as my Saviour. Read the Bible. Let no other book take its place. Through all my trials and perplexities, it has been my comfort. And now it comforts me, and makes me happy." Here we see "this well of water springing up unto everlasting life." And Jesus, who came to tell us of this water, and to open up this well in our breasts, may well be called, "the Great Teacher," because of the great blessings--of which he tells. _In the second place Jesus may be called "the Great Teacher" because of the_--GREAT SIMPLICITY--_of his teachings_. I do not mean to say that we can understand every thing that Jesus taught. This is not so. He had some things to speak about that are not simple. He said to his disciples, "_I have yet many things to say unto you, but ye cannot bear them now_." John xvi: 12. This means that there are some things about God, and heaven, of which he wished to tell them, but they were too hard for them to understand, although they were full-grown men. And so he did not tell them of these things. But even among the things that Jesus did tell about, there are some which the wisest and most learned men in the world have never been able to understand or explain. Some one has compared the Bible to a river, in which there are some places deep enough for an elephant or a giant to swim in; and other places where the water is shallow enough for a child to wade in. And it is just so with the teachings of Jesus. Some of the most important lessons he taught are so plain and simple that very young people can understand them. We have a good illustration of this in that sweet invitation which Jesus gave when he said,--"_Come unto me, all ye that labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest._" Matt. xi: 28. Very young people know what it is to feel tired and weary from walking, or working too much, or from carrying a heavy burden. And, when they are too tired to do anything else, they know what it is to go to their dear mother and throw themselves into her arms, and find rest there. And, in just the same way, Jesus invites us to come to him when we are tired, or troubled, that our souls may find rest in him. We come to Jesus, when we pray to him; when we tell him all about our troubles; when we ask him to help us; and when we trust in his promises. "Was there ever gentlest shepherd Half so gentle, half so sweet, As the Saviour, who would have us Come and gather round his feet? "There's a wideness in God's mercy, Like the wideness of the sea; There's a kindness in his justice Which is more than liberty. "There is no place where earth's sorrows Are more felt than up in heaven; There is no place where earth's failings Have such kindly judgments given. "There is plentiful redemption In the blood that has been shed; There is joy for all the members In the sorrows of the head. "If our love were but more simple, We should take him at his word; And our lives would all be sunshine, In the sweetness of our Lord." The prophet Isaiah foretold that when Jesus came, he would teach his doctrines to children just weaned. Chap. xxviii: 9. This shows us that his teaching was to be marked by great plainness and simplicity. And this was just the way in which he did teach when he uttered those loving words:--"_Suffer the little children to come unto me, and forbid them not; for of such is the kingdom of God._" Mark x: 14. None of the other famous teachers known to the world ever took such interest in children as Jesus did. And none of them ever taught with such great simplicity. What multitudes of young people have been led to love and serve Jesus by thinking of the sweet words he spoke about children! "The Child's Gospel." A little girl sat still in church listening to the minister. She could not understand what he was saying till he quoted these words of Jesus about the children. But she understood them. She felt that they were words spoken for her. They made her feel very happy. And when she went home she threw her arms around her mother's neck, who had been kept at home by sickness, and said, "O, mother, I have heard the _child's gospel_ to-day." "It's For Me." Little Carrie was a heathen child, about ten years old. After she had been going to the Mission School for some time, her teacher noticed, one day, that she looked sad. "Carrie, my dear," she said, "why do you look so sad to-day?" "Because I am thinking." "And what are you thinking about?" "O, teacher, I don't know whether Jesus loves me, or not." "Carrie, what did Jesus say about little children coming to him when he was on earth?" In a moment the sweet words she had learned in the school were on her lips--"Suffer the little children to come unto me, &c." "Well, Carrie, for whom did Jesus speak these words?" At once she clapped her hands and exclaimed: "It's not for you, teacher, is it? for you are not a child. No: it's for me! it's for me!" And so this dear child was drawn to Jesus by the power of his love. And thus, through all the hundreds of years that have passed away since "Jesus was here among men," these same simple words have been drawing the little ones to him. And so, because of the great simplicity which marked his teaching, Jesus must truly be called--the Great Teacher. _But in the third place there was_--GREAT TENDERNESS--_in Jesus, and this was another thing that helped to make him the Great Teacher_. It was this great tenderness that led him, when he came to be our Teacher and Saviour to take our nature upon him and so become like us. He might have come into our world in the form of a mighty angel, with his face shining like the sun, as he appeared when the disciples saw him on the Mount of Transfiguration. But then we should have been afraid of him. He would not have known how we feel, and could not have felt for us. But instead of this, his tenderness led him to take our nature upon him, that he might be able to put himself in our place, and so to understand just how we feel, and what we need to help and comfort us. This is what the apostle means in Heb. ii: 14, when he says--"Forasmuch as the children were partakers of flesh and blood, he also himself likewise took part of the same." He did this on purpose that he might know, by his own experience, how we are tried and tempted; and so be able to sympathize with us and help us in all our trials. Here is a little story, very simple, and homely; but yet, one that illustrates very well the point of which we are speaking. It is a story about: "A Lost Horse Found." A valuable horse was lost, belonging to a farmer in New England. A number of his neighbors turned out to try and find the horse. They searched all through the woods and fields of the surrounding country, but in vain. None of them could find the horse. At last a poor, weak-minded fellow, who was known in that neighborhood as "simple Sam," started to hunt the horse. After awhile he came back, bringing the stray horse with him. The owner of the horse was delighted to see him. He stroked and patted him, and then, turning to the simple-minded man who had found him, he said: "Well, Sam, how came you to find the horse, when no one else could do it?" "Wal, you see," said Sam, "I just 'quired whar the horse was seen last; and then I went thar, and sat on a rock; and just axed mysel', if I was a horse, whar would I go, and what would I do? And then I went, and found him." Now, when Sam, in the simplicity of his feeble mind, tried to put himself, as far as he could, in the horse's place, this helped him to find the lost horse, and bring him back to his owner again. And so, to pass from a very little thing to a very great one, when Jesus came down from heaven to seek and to save sinners that were lost, this is just the way in which he acted. He put himself in our place as sinners. As the apostle Paul says: "he who knew no sin, was made sin for us," that he might save us from the dreadful consequences of our sins. And we see the tenderness of Jesus, not only in taking our nature upon him and becoming man, but in what he did when he lived in this world as a man. "_He went about doing good_." It was his great tenderness that led him to do this. Suppose that you and I could have walked about with Jesus when he was on earth as the apostles did. Just think for a moment what we should have seen. We should have seen him meeting with blind men and opening their eyes that they might see. We should have seen him meeting with deaf men, and unstopping their ears that they might hear. We should have seen him meeting sick people who were taken with divers diseases and torments and healing them. We should have seen him raising the dead; and casting out devils; and speaking words of comfort and encouragement to those who were sad and sorrowful. If we could have looked into his blessed face, we should have seen tenderness there, beaming from his eyes and speaking from every line of his countenance. If we could have listened to his teaching we should have found tenderness running through all that he said. Just take one of his many parables as a sample of his way of teaching--the parable of the lost sheep--and see how full of tenderness it is. The sweet lines of the hymn, about the shepherd seeking his lost sheep, that most of us love to sing, bring out the tenderness of Jesus here very touchingly. "There were ninety and nine that safely lay In the shelter of the fold, But one was out on the hills away, Far off from the gates of gold-- Away on the mountains, wild and bare, Away from the tender shepherd's care. "'Lord, Thou hast here Thy ninety and nine; Are they not enough for Thee?' But the Shepherd made answer: 'One of mine Has wandered away from me; And, although the road be rough and steep, I go to the desert to find my sheep.' "But none of the ransomed ever knew How deep were the waters crossed; Nor how dark was the night that the Lord passed through, Ere he found his sheep that was lost. Out in the desert he heard its cry-- Sick and helpless, and ready to die. "'Lord, whence are those blood-drops all the way That mark out the mountain's track?' They were shed for one who had gone astray, Ere the shepherd could bring him back. 'Lord, why are Thy hands so rent and torn?' They are pierced, to-night, by many a thorn. "But all through the mountains, thunder-riven, And up from the rocky steep, There rose a cry to the gates of heaven, 'Rejoice! I have found my sheep!' And the angels echoed around the throne, 'Rejoice, for the Lord brings back his own.'" And all that we know of Jesus as "the good Shepherd," demonstrates his great tenderness for his sheep. But perhaps there was no act in all the life of our blessed Redeemer that showed his tenderness more than taking the little children in his arms, and putting his hands upon them, and blessing them. To think of the Son of God, who made this world, and all worlds, and whom all the angels of heaven worship, showing so much interest in the little ones; this proves how full of tenderness his heart was. "I Like Your Jesus." An English lady who had spent six months in Syria, writes: "Going through the places where the Mohammedans live, you continually hear the girls singing our beautiful hymns in Arabic. The attractive power of Christ's love is felt even by the little ones, as we learned from a dear Moslem child, who, when she repeated the text, 'Suffer the little children,' said, 'I like your Jesus, because he loved little children. Our Mohammed did not love little children.'" And if we all try to imitate the tenderness of Jesus, then, though we may have no money to give, and no great thing to do, yet by being tender, and gentle, and loving, as Jesus was, we shall be able to do good wherever we are. "Doing Good by Sympathy." A Christian mother used to ask her children every night if they had done any good during the day. One night in answer to this question, her little daughter said: "At school this morning I found little Annie G----, who had been absent for some time, crying very hard. I asked her what was the matter? Then she cried more, so that I could not help putting my head on her neck, and crying with her. Her sobs grew less, and presently she told of her little baby brother, whom she loved so much; how sick he had been; and how much pain he had suffered, till he died and was buried. Then she hid her face in her book, and cried, as if her heart would break. I could not help putting my face on the other page of the book, and crying, too, as hard as she did. After awhile she kissed me, and told me I had done her good. But, mother, I don't know how I did her good; _for I only cried with her!_" Now this little girl was showing the tenderness of Jesus, the Great Teacher. Nothing in the world could have done that poor sorrowing child so much good as to have some one cry with her. Sometimes tears of tenderness are worth more than diamonds. And this is why the Bible tells us to "weep with them that weep." Rom. xii: 15. Jesus did this in the tenderness of his loving heart. And this was one of the things that made him the Great Teacher. _But then there was_--GREAT KNOWLEDGE--_in Jesus; and this was another thing that made him great as a teacher_. If we wish to be good teachers, we must study, and try to understand the things we expect to teach. If a young man wishes to be a minister, he must go through college; and then spend three years in the Divinity School, so that he may understand the great truths of the Bible, which he is to teach the people who hear him. But Jesus never went to college, or to a divinity school. And yet he had greater knowledge about all the things of which he spoke than any other teacher ever had. We are told in the book of Job that "He is _perfect_ in knowledge." Job xxxvi: 5. And the apostle Paul tells us that "in him are hid _all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge_." Col. ii: 3. This is more than can be said of any man, or any angel. If we could take all the knowledge of all the best teachers who ever lived, and give it to one person, it would be as nothing compared to the knowledge which Jesus, "the Great Teacher" had. He knew all about heaven; for that had always been his home before he came into our world. He knew all about God; for, he was "in the bosom of the Father," John i: 18; and, as he tells us himself, had shared his glory with him, "before the world was." John xvii: 5. He knew all about the world we live in, for he made it. John i: 10. He knew all about all other worlds, for he made them, too. John i: 3; Heb. i: 2. He knew all about his disciples and every body else in the world, for he made them all. He saw all they did; he heard all they said; he knew all they thought, or felt. Wise and learned men have been studying, and finding out things for hundreds of years, about geography and natural history--and astronomy;--about light, and heat, and electricity--and steam--and the telegraph, and many other things. Jesus knew all about these things when he was on earth. He could have told about them, if he had seen fit to do so. But he only told us what it is best for us to know, in order that we might be saved; and kept back all the rest. The things that Jesus did teach us when he was here on earth were wonderful; but it is hardly less wonderful to think of the things that he might have taught us, and yet did not. When we think of the great knowledge of Jesus, as a Teacher, we are not surprised that some of those who heard him "wondered at the gracious words" he spake; or that others asked the question: "Whence hath this man this knowledge, having never learned?" Some one has written these sweet lines about Christ as--_The Great Teacher_: "From everything our Saviour saw, Lessons of wisdom he could draw; The clouds, the colors in the sky; The gentle breeze that whispers by; The fields all white with waving corn; The lilies that the vale adorn; The reed that trembles in the wind; The tree, where none its fruit could find; The sliding sand, the flinty rock, That bears unmoved the tempest's shock; The thorns that on the earth abound; The tender grass that clothes the ground; The little birds that fly in air; The sheep that need the shepherd's care; The pearls that deep in ocean lie; The gold that charms the miser's eye; The fruitful and the thorny ground; The piece of silver lost and found; The reaper, with his sheaves returning; The gathered tares prepared for burning; The wandering sheep brought back with joy; The father's welcome for his boy; The wedding-feast, prepared in state; The foolish virgins' cry, 'too late!'-- All from his lips some truth proclaim, Or learn to tell their Maker's name." But the difference between Jesus, the Great Teacher, and all other teachers is seen, not only in the greater knowledge he has of the things that he teaches, but in this also, that he knows how to make us understand the lessons he teaches. Here is an incident that illustrates how well Jesus can do this. We may call it: "The Well Instructed Boy." A minister of the gospel was travelling through the wildest part of Ireland. There he met a shepherd's boy, not more than ten or twelve years old. He was poorly clad, with no covering on his head, and no shoes or stockings on his feet; but he looked bright and happy. He had a New Testament in his hand. "Can you read, my boy?" asked the minister. "To be sure I can." "And do you understand what you read?" "A little." "Please turn to the third chapter of St. John, and read us a little," said the minister. The boy found the place directly, and in a clear distinct voice, began: "There was a man of the Pharisees named Nicodemus, a ruler of the Jews; the same came to Jesus by night, and said unto him, Rabbi." "What does Rabbi mean?" "It means a master." "Right; go on." "We know thou art a teacher come from God; for no man can do these miracles that thou doest, except God be with him." "What is a _miracle_?" "It is a _great wonder_. 'Jesus answered and said unto him, verily, verily, I say unto thee.'" "What does _verily_ mean?" "It means 'indeed.' 'Except a man be born again.'" "What does that mean?" "It means a great change, a change of heart." "Except a man be born again he cannot see the kingdom of God." "And what is that kingdom?" He paused a moment, and with a very serious, thoughtful look, placing his hand on his bosom, he said, "It is _something here_;" and then, raising his eyes to heaven, added, "_and something up yonder_." This poor boy had been taking lessons from "the Great Teacher," and he had taught him some of the most important things that we can ever learn. Jesus may well be called "the Great Teacher," because of his great knowledge. _But there is one other thing that Jesus has, which helps to make him "the Great Teacher," and that is_--GREAT POWER. Other teachers can tell us what we ought to learn, and to do, yet they have no power to help us learn, or do what they teach. But Jesus _has_ this power. Let us take a single illustration from many of the same kind that occurred while he was on earth. One day he was going about teaching in the streets of Jerusalem. As he went on, he passed by the office of a man who was gathering taxes for the Roman government. The persons who did this were called _publicans_. This man, sitting in his office, was named Matthew. He was busily engaged in receiving the taxes of the people. It was a very profitable business. The men engaged in it generally made a great deal of money. Jesus stopped before the window or door of this office. He beckoned to Matthew, and simply spoke these two words:--"_Follow me_." Now, if any other teacher had spoken these words to Matthew, and had tried to make him quit his business and engage in something else, he would have said: "No; I can't leave my office. This is all the means I have of getting a living. The business pays well, and I am not willing to give it up." But when Jesus spoke to him, he did, at once, what he was told to do. We read that "He left all, rose up, and followed him." Matt. ix: 9; Luke v: 28. He became one of the twelve apostles and wrote the gospel which bears his name. But it was the great power which Jesus has over the hearts of men that made Matthew willing to do, at once, what he was told to do. And the power which Jesus exercised over Matthew, in this case, he still has, and still uses. And when he is pleased to use this power the very worst people feel it, and are made good by it. And Jesus, "the Great Teacher," uses this power sometimes in connection with very simple things. Here is an illustration. We may call it: "Saved by a Rose." Some time ago, a Christian gentleman was in the habit of visiting one of our prisons. It occurred to him, one day, that it would be a good thing to have a flowering plant in the little yard connected with each cell. He got permission from the officers of the prison to do so. He had a bracket fastened to the wall, in each yard, and a flower pot, with a plant in it, placed on each bracket. One of these prisoners was worse than all the rest. He was the most hardened man that had ever been in that prison. His temper was so violent and obstinate that no one could manage him. The keeper of the prison was afraid of him, and never liked to go near him. He was such a disagreeable-looking man that the name given to him in the prison was "Ugly Greg." A little rose bush was put on the bracket in Ugly Greg's yard, and the effect produced by it is told in these simple lines, which some one has written about it: "Ugly Greg was the prisoner's name, Ugly in face, and in nature the same; Stubborn, sullen, and beetle-browed, The hardest case in a hardened crowd. The sin-set lines in his face were bent Neither by kindness nor punishment; He hadn't a friend in the prison there, And he grew more ugly and didn't care. "But some one--blessings on his name! Had caused to be placed in that house of shame, To relieve the blank of the white-washed wall, Flower-pot brackets, with plants on them all. Though it seemed but a useless thing to do, Ugly Greg's cell had a flower-pot, too, And as he came back at the work-day's close, He paused, astonished, before a rose. "'He will smash it in pieces,' the keeper said, But the lines on his face grew soft instead. Next morning he watered his plant with care, And went to his work with a cheerful air; And, day by day, as the rose-bush grew, Ugly Greg began changing, too. "The soft, green leaves unfolded their tips, And the foul word died on the prisoner's lips; He talked to the plant, when all alone, As he would to a friend, in a gentle tone; And, day by day, and week by week, As the rose grew taller, so Greg grew meek. "But, at last they took him away to lie On a hospital bed, for they knew he must die, They placed the rose in the sunny light, Where Greg might watch it, from morn till night, And the green buds grew, from day to day, As the sick man faded fast away. "The lines which sin and pain had traced, Seemed by the shadowing plant effaced, Till, came at last, the joyful hour, When they knew that the bud must burst its flower. Greg slept, but still one hand caressed The plant; the other his pale cheek pressed. The perfumed crimson shed a glow On the old man's hair, as white as snow; The nurse came softly--'Look, Greg!' she said, Ay, the rose had bloomed, but the man was dead." And the meaning of all this is, not that the rose itself saved this hardened sinner. No; but it led him to think of the lessons of his childhood, when he had been taught about Jesus, "the Rose of Sharon". It led him to think about his sins. It led him to repent of them; to pray to Jesus; to exercise faith in him; and in _this way_ he became a changed man, and was saved. And so, though we speak of him as--"a man saved by a rose;" yet it was the power of Jesus, "the Great Teacher," exercised through that rose, which led to this blessed change and saved Greg's soul from death. And thus we have spoken of five things which help to make up the greatness of Jesus as a Teacher. These are--The Great Blessings--The Great Simplicity--The Great Tenderness--The Great Knowledge--and the Great Power connected with his teachings. Let us seek the grace that will enable us to learn of him, and then we shall find rest for our souls! CHRIST TEACHING BY PARABLES We have spoken of our Saviour as "The Great Teacher," and tried to point out some of the things in his teaching which helped to make him great. And now, it may be well to speak a little of the illustrations which he made use of as a Teacher. These are called--_parables_. Our Saviour's parables were illustrations. This is what is meant by the Greek word from which we get the word parable. It means something _set down by the side of another_. When we teach a lesson we are setting something before the minds of our scholars. But suppose it is a hard lesson and they do not understand it. Then we use an illustration. This is something set down beside the lesson to make it plain. Then this, whatever it be, is a parable. At the beginning of his ministry, our Saviour did not make much use of parables. But, after he had been preaching for some time, he made a change in his way of teaching, in this respect. He began to use parables very freely. His disciples were surprised at this. On one occasion, after he had used the parable of the Sower, they came to their Master and asked him why he always spake to the people now in parables? We have our Saviour's answer to this question in St. Matt, xiii: 11-18. And it is a remarkable answer. The meaning of it is that he used parables for two reasons: one was to help those who really wished to learn from him to understand what he was teaching. The other was that those who were not willing to be taught might listen to him without understanding what he was saying. These people had heard him when he was teaching without parables. But, instead of thanking him for coming to teach them, and of being willing to do what he wanted them to do, they found fault with his teaching, and would not mind what he said. Now, there is a great difference between the way in which we are to learn what the Bible teaches us about God and heaven; and the way in which we learn other things. If we want to learn what the Bible teaches us we must be careful that we are having right feelings in our hearts; but if we want to learn other things it does not matter so much what our feelings are. For instance, suppose you have a lesson to learn in geography; no matter how you are feeling, whether you are proud, or humble; whether you are cross, or gentle; yet if you only study hard enough, and long enough, you can learn that lesson. But, if you want to learn one of the lessons that Jesus teaches, no matter how hard, or how long you study it, yet while you are giving way to proud, or angry feelings in your heart, you can never learn that lesson. And the reason is that we cannot learn these lessons unless we have the special help of Jesus, by the Holy Spirit. But this help can never be had while we give way to wrong feelings in our hearts. In learning geography, and other such lessons, we do not need the _special_ help of God. We can learn them ourselves, if we only try. But we cannot learn the lessons that Jesus teaches in this way. This is what the Psalmist means when he says:--"The _meek_ will he teach his way." Ps. xxv: 9. And this was what our Saviour meant when he said: "If any man will do his will, _he shall know_." St. John vii: 17. We must be willing to be taught;--and willing to obey; if we wish to understand what Jesus, "The Great Teacher," has to tell us. Some one has well said that truth, taught by a parable, is like the kernel hid away in a nut. The parable, like the shell of the nut, covers up the kernel. Those who really want the kernel will crack the shell, and get it: but those who are not willing to crack the shell will never get the kernel. The shell of the nut keeps the kernel safe _for_ one of these persons, and safe _from_ the others. But, after the time of which we have spoken, Jesus used parables freely. We are told that--"without a parable spake he not unto the people." St. Mark xiii: 34. He used parables among his disciples for two reasons: these were to help them to _understand_, and to remember what he taught them. We have a great many of the parables of Jesus in the gospels. A full list of them will contain not less than _fifty_. It would be easy enough to make a sermon on each of these parables. But that would make a larger work than this whole LIFE OF CHRIST, on which we are now engaged. It is impossible therefore to speak of all the parables. We can only make selections, or take some specimens of them. We may speak of five different lessons as illustrated by some of the parables of Christ. These are--_The value of religion: Christ's love of sinners: The duty of forgiveness: The duty of kindness: and the effect of good example_. _Well then, we may begin by considering what Jesus taught us of_--THE VALUE OF RELIGION--_in his parables._ The parable of The Treasure Hid in the Field teaches us this truth. We find this parable in St. Matt. xiii: 44. Here Jesus says, "The kingdom of heaven is like unto treasure hid in a field; the which when a man hath found, he hideth, and for joy thereof goeth and selleth all that he hath, and buyeth that field." The words "kingdom of heaven" are used by our Saviour in different senses. Sometimes, as here, they mean the grace of God, or true religion. And what Jesus teaches us by this parable is that true religion is more valuable than anything else in the world. The next parable, in the forty-fifth and forty-sixth verses of the same chapter, is about The Pearl of Great Price. This teaches the same lesson. It reads thus:--"The kingdom of heaven is like unto a merchantman seeking goodly pearls: who, when he had found one pearl of great price, went and sold all that he had and bought it." By this "pearl of great price" Jesus meant true religion, as he did by the treasure hid in the field in the former parable. And the truth he teaches in both these parables is that religion is more important to us than anything else in the world. Let us look at some incidents that may help to illustrate for us the value of religion. "Jesus Makes Everything Right." A poor lame boy became a Christian, and in telling what effect this change had upon him, these are the words he used to a person who was visiting him: "Once every thing went wrong at our house; father was wrong, mother was wrong, sister was wrong, and I was wrong; but now, since I have learned to know and love Jesus it is all right. I know why everything went wrong before:--it was because I was wrong myself." And this is true. The first thing that religion does for us is to make us _be_ right ourselves, and then to _do_ right to others. "Be." A young lady had been trying to do something very good, but had not succeeded. Her mother said, "Marian, my child, God gives us many things to _do_, but we must not forget that he gives us some things to _be_; and we must learn to _be_ what God would have us be, before we can _do_ what God would have us do." "O dear mother, please tell me about _being_, and then I shall know better about doing." "Well, listen my child, while I remind you of some of the Bible be's: God says: "_Be_--ye kindly affectioned one to another." "_Be_--ye also patient." "_Be_--ye thankful." "_Be_--ye children in malice." "_Be_--ye therefore perfect." "_Be_--courteous." "_Be_--not wise in your own conceits." "_Be_--not overcome of evil." "Thank you, dear mother," said Marian. "I hope I shall have a better day to-morrow; for I see now that _doing_ grows out of _being_." This is a point worth dwelling on, and so I will introduce to your notice here: A SWARM OF BEES WORTH HIVING. "Be patient, Be prayerful, Be humble, Be mild, Be wise as a Solon, Be meek as a child. "Be studious, Be thoughtful, Be loving, Be kind, Be sure you make matter subservient to mind. "Be cautious, Be prudent, Be trustful, Be true, Be courteous to all men, Be friendly with few. "Be temperate in argument, pleasure and wine, Be careful of conduct, of money, of time. "Be cheerful, Be grateful, Be hopeful, Be firm, Be peaceful, benevolent, willing to learn; "Be courageous, Be gentle Be liberal, Be just, Be aspiring, Be humble, because you are dust. "Be penitent, circumspect, sound in the faith, Be active, devoted; Be faithful to death. "Be honest, Be holy, transparent and pure; Be dependent, Be Christ-like and you'll be secure." Here is a swarm of between forty and fifty bees. The religion of Jesus will help us to make these all our own. How great then must the value of religion be! Surely it is worth while for each of us to try and secure it! I think I never saw a better view of the value of religion than is seen in the following statement of what it does for us. I know not by whom it was written, but it is put in the form of that sacred sign to which we owe all the blessings of salvation--the sign of THE CROSS. "Blest they who seek While in their youth, With spirit meek, The way of truth. To them the sacred scriptures now display Christ as the only true and living way; His precious blood on Calvary was given To make them heirs of endless bliss in Heaven. And e'en on earth the child of God can trace The glorious blessings of the Saviour's grace. For them He bore His Father's frown; For them He wore The thorny Crown; Nailed to the Cross, Endured its pain, That his life's loss Might be their gain. Then haste to choose That better part, Nor dare refuse The Lord thy heart, Lest he declare,-- 'I know you not,' And deep despair Should be your lot. Now look to Jesus, who on Calvary died, And trust on him who there was crucified." "Leaving it All with Jesus." Annie W ... was a young Christian. In her fourteenth year she was taken with a severe illness, from which the doctor said she could not recover. When she became too weak to leave the sofa, she would send for one and another of the neighbors to come in to see her, and then she would speak to them of Jesus and his great salvation. One day a poor old woman who was not a Christian, came in to see her. "You are very ill, my dear," she said to Annie. "Yes," she replied, "but I shall soon be well." The poor woman shook her head as she looked at Annie's mother, saying, "Poor dear creature; she cannot possibly get well. No: she will never get over it." Then turning to Annie, she said: "Don't you know, my dear, that you are going to die?" "I know I am going to live," she said with a sweet smile. "I shall soon be with Jesus in heaven, and live forever with him." "Oh, how can you know that, my dear? We must not be _too_ sure you know," said the poor woman. "Oh," said Annie, pointing to a card hanging on the wall, near her bed, on which was printed in large letters the hymn headed--"I leave it all with Jesus." "That's what I do! That's what I do." These are the words of the hymn which gave that dear child so much comfort on her dying bed: "I leave it all with Jesus, Then wherefore should I fear? I leave it all with Jesus, And he is ever near. "I leave it all with Jesus, Trust him for what must be; I leave it all with Jesus, Who ever thinks of me. "I bring it all to Jesus, In calm, believing prayer; I bring it all to Jesus, And I love to LEAVE it there! "Each tear, each sigh, each trouble, Each disappointment,--all I love to GIVE to Jesus, Who loves to TAKE them all." And here we have a beautiful illustration of one of the things which Jesus taught us in his parables, namely--_the value of religion_. _Another thing we are taught in these parables is_--CHRIST'S LOVE FOR SINNERS. The parable of the lost sheep teaches us this truth: but as we had occasion to speak of this in our last chapter, when illustrating the tenderness of Christ, as the Great Teacher, we may let that pass now. But the parable of the lost piece of money teaches the same lesson. We have this parable in St. Luke xv: 8th and 9th verses. Here we are told of a woman who had ten pieces of silver, and lost one of them. Then she laid the others aside, and searched diligently for the lost piece till she found it. This woman represents Jesus. The lost piece of money represents our souls lost by sin. The efforts of the woman to find the lost piece represent what Jesus did, when he left heaven, and took our nature upon him, and came as "the Son of man to _seek and to save that which was lost_." And it was the love of Jesus for poor sinners which led him to do all this for us. And everything connected with the history of Jesus when he was on earth shows the greatness of his love. Think of Bethlehem and its manger; there we see the love of Jesus. Think of Gethsemane with its bloody sweat; there we see the love of Jesus. Think of Calvary with its cross of shame and agony; for _there_ we see the love of Jesus. And the parable of the prodigal son teaches us the same lesson. We read of this in the same chapter, St. Luke xv: 11-32. This son had been disobedient and ungrateful. He had taken the money his father gave him and had gone away and spent it in living very wickedly. And when the money was all spent and he was likely to starve, he went back to his father, hungry and ragged, and asked to be taken in. And instead of scolding and punishing him as he deserved, as soon as his father saw him, he ran, and fell on his neck and kissed him; and took off his rags, and dressed him in good clothes, and made a great feast for him. How beautifully this parable illustrates the love of Christ for sinners! And when we learn to know and feel the love of Christ for us, it does two blessed things for us. One is, _it makes us good_. We hear a great deal about _conversion_. This word conversion simply means--_turning_. When a person has been living without trying to serve or please God, and is led to see how wrong it is to live in that way, and then feels an earnest desire to turn around, and live differently, and really does so:--that is conversion. The teaching or preaching of the gospel is the chief means that God employs to convert men. And the thing about the gospel in which this converting power lies is--_the love of Christ_. Here is an illustration of what this means. "He Loved Me." An English minister of the gospel was traveling in Switzerland one summer. As he passed from place to place, he preached by means of an interpreter in various churches. One Sunday night he preached from the words, "_He loved me, and gave himself for me_." Gal. ii: 20. Then he went on his way without knowing what effect had followed from his preaching. One Saturday evening, several weeks after, the minister of this church was sitting in his study. There came a faint knock at his door. He opened it, when, to his great surprise he saw there a young man, who was known as the wickedest young man in that neighborhood, and the leader of others in all sorts of wickedness. He invited him in, gave him a seat, and asked him what he wished. Judge of his surprise when the young man said he wished to inquire if he might come to the sacrament of the Lord's Supper, which was to be celebrated in his church the next day! "But are you not aware, my young friend," said the minister, "that only those who love Christ, and are trying to serve him, have any right to come to that holy ordinance?" "I know it, sir," said the young man, "and I am thankful to feel that I am among that number." "But," asked the astonished pastor, "are you not known in this village as the ringleader in all evil doings?" "Alas! it is too true that it has been so," he replied, "but thank God all is changed now." "I am happy indeed to hear it; but pray tell me what led to this great change." "I was in your church, sir," said he, "some weeks ago, when that English minister preached from the words, 'Who loved me and gave himself for me,' That was the first time I ever understood about the love of Christ. It led to my repentance and conversion; and now I wish to show my love to Jesus by trying to serve and please him." Here we see how the love of Christ makes us good. But it _makes us happy_, as well as good. Here is a little story that illustrates this point very well. We may call it: "Maggie's Secret." "Maggie Blake, how can you study so hard, and be so provokingly good?" This question was asked by Jennie Lee, who was one of the largest and wildest girls in the school. Maggie hesitated a moment, whether to tell her secret or not. But, presently she lifted up her eyes, looked her companion bravely in the face, and said--"It's for Jesus' sake, Jennie." "But do you think he cares?" asked Jennie in a soft, subdued voice,--"do you think he cares how we act?" "I _know_ he does," said Maggie. "And it makes it so pleasant you see, even to study and get hard lessons, when I know he is looking at me, and is pleased to have me working my best for him. He always helps me to get my lessons; and then helps me to say them right. You know I used to be so frightened I could not say them, even when I had learned them well." "Yes," said Jennie, remembering very well how Maggie had changed in that respect. "That was before I thought of learning them for Jesus. After that he helped me all along. It makes me like school; and even disagreeable things are pleasant when I think of doing them for him." Jennie had often watched Maggie, and wondered what made her have such a bright, cheerful, happy look. Now she knew the secret of it. It was doing everything "for Jesus' sake." She felt she would gladly give everything she had to be as happy as Maggie. She asked Maggie to pray for her, and she began to pray for herself. Then Jesus helped her, and she soon had Maggie's secret for her own. The girls in school wondered at the change which had come over Jennie. But when they heard that she had been confirmed, and had joined the church, they understood it all. They knew she "had been with Jesus;" and that it was learning to know and feel his wonderful love which had made Jennie so good, and so happy. And so, we see that Jesus was doing a blessed thing for us when he taught the parables which show his love for sinners. _A third thing taught us by some of the parables of Jesus is_--THE DUTY OF KINDNESS. One day, while Jesus was on earth, a young man came to him with the great question, what he should do to obtain eternal life. Jesus referred him to the Ten Commandments; and reducing them to two, he told the young man that these commandments required him to love God with all his heart, and his neighbor as himself; and then said if he would do this he would be saved. This is perfectly true. Any one would be saved who would do this. But no one ever has done this except our blessed Lord Himself. He "magnified the law and made it honorable" by keeping it perfectly. I suppose that Jesus intended to give this young man some lessons about the commandments of God which would lead him to see that he never could keep them himself; and that he would need some one to keep them for him, and that _this_ was the only way in which he, or any one else could be saved. It may have been that the young man did not want to hear any thing more on that subject, and so he gave the conversation a different turn by asking--"who is my neighbor?" when Jesus said he must love his neighbor as himself. And then, in answer to this question Jesus told the parable of the "Good Samaritan." We have this parable in St. Luke x: 30-37. Here we are told of a certain man who was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho, and fell among thieves. They robbed him; and wounded him; and left him half dead. While he was lying there helpless and suffering, a priest and a Levite came, and looked on him, and passed by on the other side, without giving him any help. Then we are told that a certain Samaritan came by, and when he saw the poor wounded man lying there, although he was a Jew, and the Jews and the Samaritans hated each other very much, yet he pitied him, and went up to him, and bound up his wounds, and set him on his own beast, and carried him to an inn, and told them to take care of him, and said that he would pay all his expenses. Then Jesus asked the question, "Which now, of these three thinkest thou was neighbor to him that fell among thieves? And he said, he that showed mercy on him. Then said Jesus unto him, Go, and do thou likewise." Thus Jesus taught the duty of kindness. This kindness we must show, not to our friends only, but to our enemies. _Kindness to all_ is the duty that Jesus teaches. Let us look at one or two illustrations of the way in which we should do this. "The Honey Shield." It is said that wasps and bees will not sting a person whose skin is covered with honey. And so those who are exposed to the sting of these venomous little creatures smear their hands and faces over with honey, and this, we are told, proves the best shield they can have to keep them from getting stung. And the honey here very well represents the kindness which Jesus teaches us to practise. If kindness, gentleness, and forbearance are found running through all our words and actions, we shall have the best shield to protect us from the spiteful stings of wicked people. "Androcles and the Lion." Most of those who read these pages may have heard this story, but it illustrates the point before us so well that I do not hesitate to use it here. Androcles was a Roman slave. To escape the cruel treatment of his master he ran away. A lonely cave in the midst of the forest was his home for a while. Returning to his cave one day he met a lion near the mouth of the cave. He was bellowing as if in pain; and on getting nearer to him, he found that he was suffering from a thorn which had run into one of his paws. It was greatly swollen and inflamed, and was causing him much pain. Androcles went up to the suffering beast. He drew out the rankling thorn and thus relieved him of his pain. His nature, savage as it was, felt the power of the kindness thus shown to him. He became attached to the lonely slave, and shared his prey with him while they remained together. But, after a while the retreat of Androcles was discovered. He was taken and carried back to his master. The lion also was made a prisoner soon after. Androcles was kept in prison for some time; and finally, according to the custom of the Romans, he was condemned to be devoured by wild beasts. The lion to be let loose on Androcles had been kept a long time without food and was very hungry. When the door of his den was opened he rushed out with a tremendous roar. The Colosseum was crowded with spectators. They expected to see the poor slave torn to pieces in a moment. But, to the surprise of everyone, the great monster, hungry as he was, instead of devouring the condemed man, crouched at his feet, and began to fondle him, as a pet dog would do. He recognized in the poor prisoner his friend of the forest and showed that he had not forgotten his kindness. The kindness of Androcles had been like the honey shield to him. It saved his life, first from the savage beast in the forest; and then from the savage men in the city. Let us all put on this shield, and wear it wherever we go. The lesson of kindness which Jesus teaches in this parable, has been very well put by some one in these sweet lines: THE LESSON OF KINDNESS. "Think kindly of the erring! Thou knowest not the power With which the dark temptation came In some unguarded hour; Thou knowest not how earnestly They struggled, or how well, Until the hour of weakness came, And sadly then they fell. "Speak kindly to the erring! Thou yet may'st lead him back With holy words, and tones of love, From misery's thorny track: Forget not _thou_ hast often sinned And sinful yet must be:-- Deal kindly with the erring one As God hath dealt with thee!" The duty of kindness was the third lesson Jesus taught in the parables. _A fourth lesson taught us in some of the parables of Jesus is_---- THE DUTY OF FORGIVENESS. The apostle Peter came to Jesus one day, and asked him how often he ought to forgive a brother that offended him; and whether it would be enough to forgive him _seven_ times. The answer of Jesus was, "I say not unto thee, until seven times, but until seventy times seven." St. Matt. 18: 22. Then Jesus spoke the parable of the two debtors. St. Matt. 18: 23-35. One of these owed his master ten thousand talents. If these were talents of silver they would amount to more than fifteen millions of dollars. If they were talents of gold, they would amount to three hundred millions. This would show that his debt was so great that he never could pay it. Then his master freely forgave him. But not long after, he found one of his fellow-servants, who owed him a hundred pence, or about fifteen dollars of our money. The man asked him to forgive him the debt. He would not do it; but put him in prison. When his master heard this he was very angry, and put him in prison, where he should be punished until he had paid all his great debt. And Jesus finished the parable by saying--"_so likewise, shall my heavenly Father do unto you, if ye, from your hearts forgive not every one his brother their trespasses_." And here we are taught the great duty of forgiveness. And this same duty is taught us in the Lord's Prayer, where he says--"Forgive us our trespasses, as we also forgive those who trespass against us." If we use this prayer without forgiving those who injure us, then, in so using it, we are really asking God _not_ to forgive us. And Jesus _practised_ what he _preached_. As he hung bleeding and agonizing on the cross, while his enemies were cruelly mocking his misery, he looked up to heaven, and uttered that wonderful prayer--"_Father forgive them; for they know not what they do_." Here we have the best illustration of forgiveness that the world has ever seen. "Example of Forgiveness." In a school in Ireland, one boy struck another. The offending boy was brought up to be punished, when the injured boy begged for his pardon. The teacher asked--"Why do you wish to keep him from being flogged?" The ready reply was--"Because I have read in the New Testament that our Lord Jesus Christ said that we must forgive our enemies; and therefore I forgive him, and beg that he may not be punished for my sake." "Good for Evil." At the foot of a street in New York, stood an Italian organ grinder, with his organ. A number of boys had gathered round him, but they were more anxious to have some fun than to hear music. One of them said to his companions: "See! I'll hit his hat!" And sure enough he did. Making up a snow ball, he threw it with so much force that the poor man's hat was knocked into the gutter. A gentleman standing by expected to see him get very angry, and swear at the boy. But, very different from this was the result that followed. The musician stopped; stepped forward and picked up his hat. Then he turned to the rude boy, and gracefully bowing, said: "And now, I'll play you a tune to make you merry!" There was real Christian forgiveness. "The Power of the Gospel." Years ago some carpenters moved to the Island of New Zealand, and set up a shop for carrying on their business. They were engaged to build a chapel at one of the Mission Stations. One of these carpenters, a pleasant, kind-hearted man, engaged a native Christian to dig his garden for him. When the work was done the man went to the shop for his pay. Another of the carpenters there, who was a very ill-tempered man, told the native to get out of the shop. "Don't be angry," was the gentle reply; "I have only come to have a little talk with your partner, and to get my wages from him." "But I _am_ angry." And then taking hold of the New Zealander by the shoulder, he abused and kicked him in the most cruel manner. The native made no resistance till the carpenter ceased. Then he jumped up, seized him by the throat, and snatching a small axe from the bench, flourished it threateningly over his head. "Now, you see," said he, "your life is in my hand. You see my arm is strong enough to kill you; and my arm is quite willing, but my heart is not. I have heard the missionaries preach the gospel of forgiveness. You owe your life to the preaching of the gospel. If my heart was as dark now as it was before the gospel was preached here, I should strike off your head in an instant!" Then he released the carpenter without injuring him and accepted from him a blanket as an apology for the insult. How faithfully this man was practising the duty of forgiveness which Jesus taught! _The only other thing of which we shall now speak, as taught by our Saviour in the parables, is_--THE INFLUENCE OF GOOD EXAMPLE. The parable which teaches this lesson is that of the lighted candle. It is one of the shortest of our Lord's parables, and yet the truth it teaches is very important. We first find this parable in the sermon on the mount. These are the words in which it is given: "Neither do men light a candle and put it under a bushel, but on a candlestick; and it giveth light unto all that are in the house. Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father which is in heaven." Matt, v: 15. This parable is so important that we find it repeated in three other places. Mark iv: 21, Luke viii: 16, and xi: 33. We find the same idea taught by one of England's greatest writers. Looking at a candle shining through a window, he says: "How far yon little candle throws its beam! So shines a good deed in a naughty world." And the lesson we are here taught is that we should always set a good example by doing what we know to be right, and then, like a candle shining in a dark place, we shall be useful wherever we go. Let us look at one or two incidents that illustrate this. "A Boy's Influence." Two families lived in one house. In each of these families there was a little boy about the same age. These boys slept together. One of them had a good pious mother. She had trained him to kneel down every night, before getting into bed, and say his prayer in an audible voice, and to repeat a text of scripture which she had taught him. Now the first time he slept with the other little boy, who never said any prayers, he was tempted to jump into bed, as his companion did, without kneeling down to pray. But he was a brave and noble boy. He said to himself--"I am not afraid to do what my mother taught me. I am not ashamed for anybody to know that I pray to God. I'll do as I have been taught to do." He did so. He let his light shine. And see what followed from its shining! The little boy who had never been taught to pray learned his companion's prayer, and the verse he repeated, by hearing them, and he never forgot them. He grew up to be an earnest Christian man. When he lay on his deathbed, quite an aged man, he sent for the friend, whose prayer he had learned, to come and see him, and told him that it was his little prayer, so faithfully said every night when they were boys, which led him to become a Christian. He repeated the prayer and the verse, word for word, and with his dying lips thanked his friend for letting his light shine as he did, for _that_ had saved his soul. Here is another illustration of a Christian letting his light shine and the good that was done by it. We may call it: "The Shilling Bible, and what Came of It." Some years ago a Christian gentleman went on a visit for three days to the house of a rich lady who lived at the west end of London. After tea, on the first evening of his arrival, he called one of the servants, and telling her that in the hurry of leaving home he had forgotten to bring a Bible with him, he requested her to ask the lady of the house to be kind enough to lend him one. Now that house was beautifully furnished. There were splendid pictures on the walls, and elegantly bound volumes in the library and on the tables in the parlor; but there was not a Bible in the house. The lady felt ashamed to own that she had no Bible. So she gave the servant a shilling and told her to go to the book store round the corner and buy a Bible. The Bible was bought and given to the gentleman. He used it during his visit, and then went home, little knowing how much good that shilling Bible was to do. When he was gone the lady at whose house he had been staying said to herself: "How strange it is that an intelligent gentleman like my friend could not bear to go for three days without reading the Bible, while I never read it at all, and don't know what it teaches. I am curious to know what there is in this book to make it so attractive. I mean to begin and read it through." She began to read it at first out of simple curiosity. But, as she went on reading she became deeply interested in it. It showed her what a sinner she was in living without God in the world. It led her to pray earnestly for the pardon of her sins; and the end of it was that she became a Christian. Then she desired that her children should know and love the Saviour too. She prayed for them. She talked with them, and taught them the precious truths contained in that blessed book. And the result was that, one by one, they were all led to Jesus and became Christians. And so _that whole family were saved by means of that shilling Bible_. When that gentleman asked for the use of a Bible in the house where he was visiting, he was setting a good example. He was putting his candle on a candlestick and letting it shine. And the result that followed gives us a good illustration of the meaning of our Saviour's words when he said:--"Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works and glorify your Father which is in heaven." And so, when we remember the parables that Jesus taught, among other things illustrated by them, we can think of these,--_the value of religion;--Christ's love for sinners;--the duty of kindness;--the duty of forgiveness;--the influence of a good example_. I know not how to finish this subject better than in the words of the hymn: "Father of mercies! in thy word, What endless glory shines! Forever be thy name adored For these celestial lines. O, may these heavenly pages be My ever dear delight; And still new beauties may I see, And still increasing light." CHRIST TEACHING BY MIRACLES We have seen how many valuable lessons our Saviour taught while on earth by the parables which he used. But we teach by our lives, as well as by our lips. It has passed into a proverb, and we all admit the truth of it, that "Actions speak louder than words." If our words and our actions contradict each other, people will believe our actions sooner than our words. But when both agree together, then the effect is very great. This was true with our blessed Lord. There was an entire agreement between what he said, and what he did. His words and his actions, the teaching of his lips, and the teaching of his life--were in perfect harmony. He practised what he preached. But then, in addition to the every day common actions of the life of Christ, there were actions in it that were very uncommon. He was daily performing miracles, and doing many mighty and wonderful works. And the prophets before him, and apostles after him, performed miracles too; yet there were two things in which the miracles of Christ differed from those performed by others. One was as to the _number_ of them. He did a greater number of wonderful things than anyone else ever did. Indeed if we take the miracles that were done by Moses, by Elijah and Elisha, in the Old Testament, and those that were done by the apostles in the New Testament and put them all together we shall find that they would not equal, in number, the miracles of Christ. There are between thirty and forty of the mighty works wrought by our Saviour mentioned in the gospels. And these, as St. John says, are only a small portion of them. Ch. xxi: 25. The other thing in which the miracles of Christ are different from those performed by other persons, is _the way in which they were done_. The prophets and apostles did their mighty works in the name of God, or of Christ. Thus when Peter and John healed the lame man at the gate of the temple they said:--"_In the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth_, rise up and walk." Acts iii: 6. But Jesus had all the power in himself by which those wonderful things were done. He could say to the leper,--"_I will_; be thou clean." He could say to the sick man:--"Take up thy bed and walk." When speaking of his death and resurrection, he could very well say that it was his own power which would control it all. His life was in his own hands. It was true, as he said, "No man taketh it from me; but I lay it down of myself. I have power to lay it down and I have power to take it again." John x: 18. And it was the same with all his other mighty works. He had all the power in himself that was needed to do them. And these miracles of Christ were the proofs that he was the Messiah, the great Saviour, of whom the prophets had spoken. This was what Nicodemus meant when he said to Jesus:--"We know that thou art a teacher come from God: for no man can do these miracles that thou doest, except God be with him." John iii: 2. And Jesus himself referred to his miracles as the proof that God had sent him. John v: 36; x: 25. And this was what he meant by the message which he sent to John the Baptist, when his disciples came to Jesus, saying, "Are thou he that should come, or look we for another?" Jesus answered and said unto them, "Go, and show John again those things which ye do hear and see; the blind receive their sight; and the lame walk; the lepers are cleansed; and the deaf hear; the dead are raised up; and the poor have the gospel preached unto them." Matt, xi: 2-6. These were the very things which the prophets had foretold that Christ would do when he came. Is. xxix: 18. xxxv: 4-6. xlii: 7. It is clear from these passages that all the miracles performed by our Lord were intended to teach this lesson, that he was the great Saviour of whom the prophets had spoken. But then, in addition to this, these wonderful works of Jesus were made use of by him to show that he has power to do everything for his people that they may need to have him do. It is impossible for us to speak of all the miracles of Christ. We can only make selections from them, as we did with the parables in the last chapter. In looking at these we may see Jesus teaching us that he has power to do _four_ things for his people. _In the first place some of the miracles of Christ teach us that he has great power to_--HELP. We see this in the account given us of the miraculous draught of fishes. Luke v: 1-11. Peter was a fisherman before he became a disciple of Jesus. And James and John, the sons of Zebedee, were partners with him in the same business. On one occasion they had been busy all night throwing out and hauling in their nets, but without catching a single fish. Early the next morning, Jesus was walking along the shore of the lake, near where their boats were. He knew how tired and discouraged they were, and how much they needed help; and he wished to show them what wonderful power he had to help in time of need. So he told them to cast their net on the other side of the ship. They did so; and immediately their nets were full; and they had more fish than they could well manage. Here we are taught that even in the depths of the sea nothing can be hid from the all-seeing eye of our divine Saviour. He knows where everything is that his people can need; and he has the power to bring it to them. And then, by his miracle of walking on the sea Jesus taught the same lesson. We have an account of this miracle in three places. Matt, xix: 22-33. Mark vi: 45-52. John vi: 14-21. At the close of a busy day, in which he had been teaching the people and feeding them by miracle, Jesus told his disciples to go on board a vessel and cross over to the other side of the lake. Then he sent the multitude away, and went up into the mountain to pray to his Father in heaven whom he loved so much. It proved to be a stormy night. The wind was dead ahead; and the sea was very rough. The disciples were having a hard time of it. Tired of rowing, and making little progress, there was no prospect of their getting to land before morning. But, dark as the night was, Jesus saw them. It is true as David says, that--"_The darkness and the light are both alike to thee._" Ps. cxxxix: 12. He saw they needed help and he resolved to give it to them. But there was no boat at hand for him to go in. True: but he needed none. He could walk on the water as well as on the land. He steps from the sandy shore to the surface of the storm-tossed sea. He walks safely over its troubled waters. The disciples see him. Supposing it to be a spirit, they are alarmed, and cry out in their fear. But presently the cheering voice of their Master comes to them, saying: "_It is I. Be not afraid_." He steps on board. The wind ceases, and immediately, without another stroke of the oars, the mighty power of Jesus brings them "in safety to the haven where they would be." Other miracles might be referred to as teaching the same lesson. But these are sufficient. And Jesus has the same power to help now that he had then. Here are some illustrations of the strange way in which he sometimes helps his people in their times of need. "The Dead Raven." A poor weaver in Edinburgh lost his situation one winter, on account of business being so dull. He begged earnestly of his employer to let him have work; but he said it was impossible. Well said he, "I'm sure the Lord will help." When he came home and told his wife the sad news she was greatly distressed. He tried to comfort her with the assurance--"The Lord will help." But as he could get no work, their money was soon gone; and the day came at last, when there was neither food nor fuel left in the house. The last morsel of bread was eaten one morning at breakfast. "What shall we do for dinner?" asked his wife. "The Lord will help"--was still his reply. And see how the help came. Soon after breakfast, his wife opened the front window, to dust off the sill. Just then a rude boy, who was passing, threw a dead raven in through the window. It fell at the feet of the pious weaver. As he threw the bird in, the boy cried out in mockery, "There, old saint, is something for you to eat." The weaver took up the dead raven, saying as he did so:--"Poor creature! you must have died of hunger!" But when he felt its crop to see whether it was empty, he noticed something hard in it. And wishing to know what had caused its death, he took a knife and cut open its throat. How great was his astonishment on doing this, to find a small diamond bracelet fall into his hand! His wife gazed at it in amazement. "Didn't I tell you," he asked, in grateful gladness, "that the Lord will help?" He went to the nearest jeweler's, and telling how he had found the precious jewels, borrowed some money on them. On making inquiry about it, it turned out that the bracelet belonged to the wife of the good weaver's late employer. It had suddenly disappeared from her chamber. One of the servants had been charged with stealing it, and had been dismissed. On hearing how the bracelet had disappeared, and how strangely it had fallen into the hands of his late worthy workman, the gentleman was very much touched; and not only rewarded him liberally for returning it--but took him back into his employ, and said he should never want work again so long as he had any to give. How willing, and how able our glorious Saviour is to help those who trust in him! "The Sailor Boy's Belief." One night there was a terrible storm at sea. All at once a ship, which was tossing on the waves, keeled over on her beam ends. "She'll never right again!" exclaimed the captain. "We shall all be lost!" "Not at all, sir!" cried a pious sailor boy who was near the captain. "What's to hinder it?" asked the captain. "Why you see, sir," said the boy, "they are praying at this very moment in the Bethel ship at Glasgow for all sailors in danger: and I feel sure that God will hear their prayers: Now see, sir, if he don't!" These words were hardly out of the boy's mouth, before a great wave struck the ship, and set her right up again. And then a shout of praise, louder than the howling of the storm, went up to God from the deck of that saved ship. And so, in the miracles that he performed, one thing that Jesus taught was his power to help. _In the next place, among the miracles of Christ, we find some that were performed in order to teach us his power to_--COMFORT. One day, a great multitude of people waited on Jesus from morning till evening, to listen to his preaching. They were so anxious to hear that even when hungry they would not go away to get food. As the evening came on, the disciples asked their master to send the people away to get something to eat. But Jesus told them to give the people food. They said they had only five loaves and two fishes. Jesus told them to make the people sit down on the grass. And when they were seated he took the loaves and blessed, and brake them, and gave them to the disciples, and they gave them to the people. And great as that multitude was the supply did not fail. This was wonderful! Those loaves were very small. They were not bigger than a good-sized roll. The whole of the five loaves and two fishes would not have been enough to make a meal for a dozen men. And yet they were made sufficient to feed more than five thousand hungry people. How strange this was! The mighty power of Jesus did it. We are not told just _where_, in the interesting scene, this wonder-working power was put forth. It may have been that as Jesus brake the loaves and gave the pieces to the disciples, the part left in his hands grew out at once, to the same size that it was before. Or the broken pieces may have increased and multiplied while the disciples were engaged in distributing them. It is most likely that the miracle took place in immediate connection with Jesus himself. The power that did it was his: and in his hands, we may suppose that the wonderful work was done. As fast as he broke the loaves they increased, till all the people were fed. This was indeed not _one_ miracle, but a multitude of miracles, all performed at once. The hungry multitude ate till all were satisfied: and yet the fragments left filled twelve baskets. Five thousand men were fed, and then there was twelve times as much food left as there was before they began to eat. All this was done to satisfy that hungry crowd, and to teach them, and us, what power this glorious Saviour has to comfort those who are in need or trouble. And when he healed the daughter of the Syrophoenician woman, as we read in St. Matt, xii: 21-28; when he healed the lunatic child, as we read in St. Matt, xvii: 14-21; and when he raised Lazarus from the dead, after he had lain four days in the grave, as we read in St. John xi: 1-54, he was working miracles to show his power to comfort those in trouble. And we see him using his power still to comfort persons who are in distress. Here are some illustrations of the way in which he does this: "Shining in Every Window." A Christian lady, who spent much time in visiting among the poor, went one day to see a poor young girl, who was kept at home by a broken limb. Her room was on the north side of the house. It did not look pleasant without or cheerful within. "Poor girl!" she said to herself, "what a dreary time she must have!" On entering her room she said: "I am sorry, my friend, that your room is not on the other side of the house, where the sun could shine upon you. You never can have any sunshine here." "Oh, you are mistaken," she said: "the sunshine pours in at every window, and through every crack." The lady looked surprised. "I mean Jesus, 'the Sun of righteousness,' shines in here, and makes everything bright to me." Here we see Jesus showing his power to comfort. "Ice in Summer." Some years ago a Christian merchant, in one of our eastern cities, failed in business, and lost everything he had. After talking over their affairs with his wife, who was a good Christian woman, they concluded to move out to the west and begin life again there. He bought some land on the wide rolling prairie, built a log cabin, and began to cultivate his farm. In the midst of the second summer, hard work and exposure to the sun brought on an attack of sickness, and a raging fever set in. They were twelve miles away from the nearest town. One of the neighbors went there and came back with a doctor. He examined the case very carefully, and left some medicine with them, and told them what to do. He said it was a very dangerous attack. If they could only get some ice to apply to the burning brow of the sick man, he thought he might get over it; but, without that, there was very little prospect of his recovery. As soon as the doctor was gone, the sorrowful wife gathered her family and friends round the bedside of her sick husband, and kneeled down with them in prayer. She told God what the doctor had said, and prayed very earnestly that he who has the power to do everything, would send them some ice. When the prayer was over, some of the neighbors whispered to each other that the poor distressed woman must be losing her mind. "The idea of getting ice here," they said, "when everybody knows there isn't a bit of ice in all the country! It would be contrary to all the laws of nature to have ice in summer." The wife of the sick man heard their remarks, but they did not shake her faith in God, and in the power of prayer. Silently, but earnestly, her heart breathed forth the cry for ice. As the day wore on, heavy clouds began to gather in the western sky. They rolled in darkness over the heavens. The distant thunder was heard to mutter. Nearer and louder it was heard. The lightning began to flash. Presently the storm burst in its fury. It came first in rain, and then in hail. The hail-stones came in lumps of ice as big as eggs. They lay thick in the furrows of the field. The thankful wife went out, and soon came in rejoicing with a bucket full of ice. It was applied in bags to her husband's head. The fever broke, and he was restored to life and health. This grateful woman never troubled herself with any questions about whether it was a miracle or not. She only knew that she had prayed for ice in summer, and that the ice had come. And her faith was stronger than ever that the gracious Saviour, who did so many miracles when he was on earth, has just the same power now to comfort his people when they are in trouble. _In the third place, we see Jesus performing miracles to teach us what power he has to_--ENCOURAGE--_his people_. We have an account in St. Luke xiii: 10-17, of the miracle he performed on the woman who had "a spirit of infirmity." This means that she was a cripple. Her body was bound down, so that she had no power to straighten herself or to stand upright. She had been in this condition we are told for _eighteen_ years. How hard to bear--and how discouraging this trial must have been to her! No doctor could give her any relief, and she had made up her mind, no doubt, that there was no relief for her till death came. But when Jesus saw her, he pitied her. A miracle of healing was performed upon her. He laid his loving hand upon her bent and crippled body, and in a moment her disease was removed. She stood straight up, and glorified God. What encouragement that must have given to her! One day, when Jesus was at Capernaum, the tax-gatherers came to Peter to get the tribute, or tax-money, that was due to the Roman government, for himself and his master. But, it happened so that neither of them had money enough with which to pay that tax. Peter went into the presence of Jesus to speak to him about this matter. But Jesus knowing what was in his mind, before Peter had time to say anything on the subject, told him what to do. He directed him to take his fishing-line and go to the lake, and cast in his line, and catch the first fish that should bite; and said that in its mouth he would find a piece of money with which he might pay the tribute that was due for them both. Peter went. He threw in his line. He soon caught a fish. He looked into the fish's mouth and lo! there was a piece of money called a stater. It was worth about sixty cents of our money, and was just enough to pay the tribute for two persons. How wonderful this was! If Jesus made this piece of money in the mouth of the fish, at the time when Peter caught it, how wonderful his _power_ must be! And if, without making it then, he knew that _that_ one fish, the only one in the sea, probably, that had such a piece of money in its mouth, would be the first to bite at Peter's line, then how wonderful his _knowledge_ must be! Peter would not be likely to forget that day's fishing as long as he lived. And when he thought of the illustration it afforded of the wonderful power and the wonderful knowledge of the master whom he was serving, what encouragement that would give him in his work! And Jesus is constantly doing things to encourage those who are trying to serve him. Let us look at some of the ways in which this is done. Our first illustration is from the life of Washington Allston, the great American painter. We may call it: "Praying for Bread." Many years ago Mr. Allston was considered one of the greatest artists in this country. At the time to which our story refers, he was living in London. Then he was so poor that he and his wife had not a morsel of bread to eat; nor a penny left with which to buy any. In great discouragement he went into his studio, locked the door, and throwing himself on his knees, he told the Lord his trouble, and prayed earnestly for relief. While he was still upon his knees, a knock was heard at the door. He arose and opened the door. A stranger stood there. "I wish to see Mr. Allston," said he. "I am Mr. Allston," replied Mr. A. "Pray tell me, sir, who has purchased your fine painting of the 'Angel Uriel,' which won the prize at the exhibition of the Royal Academy?" "That painting has not been sold," said Mr. A. "Where is it to be found?" "In this very room," said the artist, bringing a painting from the corner, and wiping off the dust. "What is the price of it?" asked the gentleman. "I have done fixing a price on it," said Mr. A., "for I have always asked more than people were willing to give." "Will four hundred pounds be enough for it?" was the next question. "That is more than I ever asked." "Then the painting is mine," said the stranger, who introduced himself as the Marquis of Stafford; and from that day he became one of Mr. Allston's warmest friends. What a lesson of encouragement the great painter learned that day, when he asked for bread, and while he was asking, received help that followed him all his days! "The Hushed Tempest." A minister of the gospel in Canada gives this account of a lesson of encouragement to trust God in trouble, which he once received. "It was in the year 1853, about the middle of the winter that we had a succession of snowstorms, followed by high winds, and severe cold. I was getting ready to haul my supply of wood for the rest of the winter. I had engaged a man to go out the day before and cut the wood and have it ready to haul. I borrowed a sled and two horses from a neighbor and started early in the morning to haul the wood. Just as I reached the place, it began to snow hard. The wind blew such a gale that it was impossible to go on with the work. What was I to do? If it kept on snowing, I knew the roads would be impassable by the next day. Besides, that was the only day on which I could get the help of the man or the team. Unless I secured the wood that day it would not be in my power to get the fuel we needed for the rest of the winter. I thought of that sweet promise, 'Call on me, in the day of trouble, and I will deliver thee,' Ps. i: 15. "I kneeled down amid the drifting snow, and said, 'O, my God, this is a day of trouble to me. Lord help me. The elements are subject to thy will: Thou holdest the winds in thy hands. If thou wilt speak the word, there will be a great calm. O Lord, for the sake of my helpless little ones, let this snow lie still, and give me the opportunity of doing what I came to do, and what it is so necessary to do to-day, for Jesus' sake. Amen!' "I do not think it was more than fifteen minutes from the time I began to pray, before there was a visible change. The wind became more moderate; the sky was calm; in less than half an hour all was still; and a more pleasant time for wood-hauling than we had that day I never saw, nor desire to see. While I live, I never shall forget the lesson of encouragement to trust in God that was taught me on that day." And this was one of the lessons Jesus taught us by his miracles. _In the fourth place, among the miracles of Jesus we see some that were intended to teach us his power to_--PROTECT--_his people_. And there is no lesson that we more need to be taught than this; because we are exposed to many dangers, from which we are too weak to protect ourselves. One day, Jesus went into the house of the apostle Peter, and found the family in great distress, because the mother of Peter's wife was very ill and in danger of dying. We judge from the history that she was the head of the family. Her death would have been a great loss to them all, and yet it seemed as if no human power could protect them from that loss. But Jesus performed a miracle to save them from this threatened danger. He went into the room where she lay. He put his healing hands upon her, and at once she was well. Immediately she rose up from that sick bed, and took her place in the family and waited on Jesus. On another occasion he was crossing the sea of Galilee with his disciples. Weary with the work of love in which he had been engaged, he laid down in the hinder part of the ship and fell asleep. While he was lying there a sudden storm burst upon the sea. The wind howled in its fury. The angry waves rose in their might and dashed against the vessel in hissing foam. The ship was full of water, and in danger of sinking. The terrified disciples came to their sleeping Master with the earnest cry:--"Lord save us: we perish." He heard their cry. He rose at once. Quietly he took his stand by the side of the storm-tossed vessel. He rebuked the winds, and said unto the sea:--" Peace: be still." They recognized their Master's voice and obeyed. "The wind ceased, and immediately there was a great calm." As long as those disciples lived they never would forget the lesson he taught them by that miracle of his power to protect in danger. And then many of the miracles of our Saviour were performed for the purpose of showing what power he had to protect his people from Satan, and the evil spirits that serve him. It pleased God to allow these evil spirits to have more power over men during the time when Jesus was on earth than they had before, or than they have now. We often read in the gospels of men who were "possessed of devils." This means that the evil spirits entered into the bodies of these men, and used them as their own; just as you, or I, might go into an empty house, and use it as if it belonged to us. But Jesus performed a number of miracles to show that he was able to control those spirits; to cast them out of the bodies of men and to protect his people from their power. We have an account of one of these miracles in St. Matt, viii: 28, 34; of another in St. Mark v: 1-20; and of another in St. Luke viii: 26-39. The Bible speaks of Satan "going about, like a roaring lion, seeking whom he may devour." I. Peter v: 8. But he is a chained lion: and Jesus holds the chain. If we are trying to love and serve Jesus, we need not be afraid of this roaring lion. He cannot touch us till our Saviour gives him permission; and he will not let him hurt us. We see this illustrated in Job's case. Satan wanted very much to injure Job in some way. But he could not do it. And the reason of it was, as he said himself, that God had "put an hedge about him, and about his house, and about all that he had on every side." Job i: 10. This hedge, or fence, means the power which Jesus exercises to protect his people from the harm that Satan desires to do to them. In this way he protected Job. And in this way he protects all who love and serve him. Let us take an illustration or two to show how he is doing this continually. "Providential Deliverance." One of the best men, and one of the most useful ministers in London, during the last century, was the Rev. John Newton. Before entering the ministry he held an office under the government. One of the duties of this office was for him to visit and inspect the vessels of the navy as they lay at anchor in the river Thames. One day he was going out to visit a man-of-war that lay there. He was a very punctual man. When he had an engagement he was always ready at the very moment. But when he reached the dock on this occasion the boat which was to take him off to the man-of-war was not there. He was obliged to wait five, ten, fifteen minutes before the boat came. This displeased him very much. But the hand of God was in this delay. For, just as the boat was leaving the dock, a spark fell into the powder magazine on board the man-of-war. An explosion took place. The huge vessel was blown to pieces, and all the men on board of her were killed. That delay of a quarter of an hour saved Mr. Newton's life. In this way that gracious Saviour whom he served protected him from the danger to which he was exposed. "Willie's Heroism." One summer afternoon a teacher told her geography class that they might close their books and rest a little, while she told them a story. The story was about William Tell, the famous hero of Switzerland. She told the scholars how a wicked governor placed an apple on the head of Tell's little boy and then compelled the father to take his bow and arrow and shoot the apple from the head of his son. He was very unwilling to do it, for he was afraid the arrow might miss and kill his child. But the brave boy stood firm, and cried out--"Shoot, father! I am not afraid." He took a steady aim; fired, and knocked the apple off without hurting his son. Just as the teacher was telling this story a sudden storm burst from the sky. There was a flash of lightning, and a loud crash of thunder. Some of the children screamed, and began to cry and ran to the teacher for protection. But a little boy named Willie Hawthorne, kept his seat and went on quietly studying his lesson. When the storm was over the teacher said: "Willie why were you not afraid like the other children?" "Because," said he, "I knew the lightning was only an arrow in my Heavenly Father's hand, and why should I be afraid?" How well Willie had learned the lesson which Jesus taught his disciples when he performed so many miracles to show what power he has to protect his people from danger! Here is just one other story to illustrate this truth. We may call it: "The Widow's Tree," Some years ago a violent storm, with wind and thunder, swept through the valley of Yellow Creek, in Indiana County, Georgia. For more than a mile in width trees were uprooted, houses, barns, and fences were thrown down, and ruin and desolation was spread all over the land. In the centre of the region over which this hurricane swept stood a small cabin. It was occupied by an aged Christian widow, with her only son. The terrible wind struck a large tree in front of her humble dwelling, twisting and dashing it about. If the tree should fall it would crush her home, and probably kill herself and son. The storm howled and raged, and the big trees were falling on every hand. In the midst of all the danger the widow knelt in prayer, and asked God to spare that tree, and protect her home, and save her own life, and that of her son. Her prayer was heard. And when the storm was over, the widow's tree was spared, and strange as it may seem, was the only one left amidst that scene of desolation. There it stood, as if on purpose to show what power our loving Saviour has to protect from danger those who trust in him! _But, in the last place, we see that Jesus performed some of his miracles for the purpose of teaching us that he has power to_--PARDON. A man was brought him, one day, who was sick of the palsy. His limbs were helpless. He was not able to come to Jesus himself, so his friends carried him on a bed. At this time Jesus was preaching in the yard, or court, connected with some rich man's house. In those eastern countries the houses were not built as ours are, with a yard back of them. There is a square yard in the centre, and the house is built round the four sides of this square. This open space is generally used as a garden. It has a fountain playing in it, and a covering of cloth or mats spread over it to keep off the sun. It was in one of these open courts that Jesus was preaching on this occasion. A great crowd had gathered round him, so that the friends of the palsied man could not get near him with the bed on which the sufferer lay. Then they concluded to carry him up to the top of the house, and lower him down inside. This would not be easy to do with us. But the eastern houses are not so high as ours. And then they have flat roofs, and a flight of steps leading from the ground, on the outside, to the top of the house. This made it very easy to get up. When they were on the roof they removed the covering from the inner court, and let down the bed, with the sick man on it, directly in front of our Saviour. When he saw him he pitied him, and said, "Son, be of good cheer; thy sins be forgiven thee." The people were surprised at this. The Pharisees said among themselves "This man blasphemeth." Jesus knew their thoughts and told them it was as easy for him to heal the souls of men, as it was to heal their bodies. And then, to show them that he had power on earth to forgive sins, he said to the sick man--"Arise, take up thy bed, and go unto thine house. And he arose, and went to his house," Matt, ix: 1-8. Certainly the object Jesus had in view, in performing this miracle, was to prove that he had power to forgive sins; or to pardon. And when he healed the leper it was to teach us the same great truth. This disease was not only like all other diseases, the result of sin; but, unlike most other diseases, it was a type, or figure of sin. It affected the body as sin affects the soul. And then, leprosy was a disease which none but God could cure; just as sin is an offence which none but God our Saviour can pardon. And so Jesus performed the miracle of healing the palsied man and the lepers in order to teach his disciples the great lesson that he "had power on earth to forgive sins." And he has the same power still. Here are some illustrations of the way in which he exercises this power now. "No Pardon but From Jesus," There was a heathen man in India once, who felt that he was a sinner, and longed to obtain pardon. The priests had sent him to their most famous temples, all over the country, but he could get no pardon, and find no peace. He had fasted till he was about worn to a skeleton, and had done many painful things--but pardon and peace he could not find. At last he was told to put pebbles in his shoes and travel to a distant temple, and make an offering there; and he would find peace. He went. He made the offering; but still he found no relief from the burden of his sins. Sad, and sorrowful, he was returning home with the pebbles still in his shoes. Wearied with his journey, he halted one day in the shade of a grove, by the wayside, where a company of people was gathered round a stranger who was addressing them. It was a Christian missionary preaching the gospel. The heathen listened with great interest. The missionary was preaching from the words:--"The blood of Jesus Christ cleanseth from all sin." He showed what power Jesus had to forgive sins and how able and willing he is to save all who come unto him. The heart of the poor heathen was drawn to this loving and glorious Saviour. He took off his shoes and threw away the pebbles, saying "This is the Saviour I have long sought in vain. Thank God! I have found salvation!" Here is one more illustration of the way in which Jesus pardons our sins, and of the effect which that pardon has on those who receive it. We may call it: "Pardon and Peace." An officer who held a high position under the government of his country, and was a favorite with the king, was once brought before the judge and charged with a great crime. He took his place at the bar with the greatest coolness, and looked at the judge and jury and the great crowd of spectators as calmly as if he were at home, surrounded by his own family. The trial began. The witnesses were called up, and gave clear evidence that he was guilty. Still he remained as calm and unmoved as ever. There was not the least sign of fear visible on his countenance; on the contrary, his face wore a pleasant smile. At last the jury came in, and while the crowd in the court-room held their breath, declared that the prisoner was guilty. In an instant every eye was turned upon the prisoner to see what effect this sentence would have upon him. But just then, he put his hand in his bosom, drew out a paper, and laid it on the table. It was a pardon, a full, free pardon of all his offences, given him by the king, and sealed with the royal signet. This was the secret of his peace. This was what gave him such calmness and confidence in his dreadful position as a condemned prisoner. And so Jesus gives his people pardon in such promises as these: "Though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be white as snow: though they be red like crimson, they shall be as wool," Is. i: 16. "Let them return unto the Lord, for he will _abundantly pardon_." Is. lv: 7. "All that believe are justified from _all_ things." Acts xiii: 39. These promises are like the king's pardon which the officer had received. Faith in these promises brings pardon, and the pardon brings peace. And so, by what he is doing now, as well as by the miracles he performed when on earth, we are taught the precious truth, that--"The Son of man hath power to forgive sins." Then when we think of the wonderful miracles that Jesus did, let us always remember the illustrations they afford of the power he had to _help_--_to comfort_--_to encourage_--_to protect_--_and to pardon_. Let us seek to secure all these blessings to ourselves, and then we shall find that what Jesus taught by his miracles will be very profitable teaching to us! CHRIST TEACHING LIBERALITY If we should attempt to mention all the parables which Jesus spoke, and the miracles which he performed, and the many other lessons which he taught, it would make a long list. As we have done before we can only take one or two specimens of these general lessons which Jesus taught. We have one of these in the title to our present chapter, which is--_Christ Teaching Liberality_. This was a very important lesson for Jesus to teach. One of the sad effects of sin upon our nature is to make it selfish, and covetous. We are tempted to love money more than we ought to do. We are not so willing to part with it as we should be. And we never can be good and true Christians unless we overcome the selfishness of our sinful hearts, and not only learn to give, but to give liberally. The Bible teaches us that God not only expects his people to give, but, as St. Paul says, in one place, to give "_cheerfully_." II. Cor. ix: 7. And this is the lesson Jesus taught when he said to his disciples,--"Give, and it shall be given unto you; good measure, pressed down, and shaken together, and running over, shall men give into your bosoms." St. Luke vi: 38. And when we come to consider these words of Jesus, there are three things to engage our attention. _The first of these is the_--LESSON OF LIBERALITY--_here set before us_. _The second is_--THE PROOF--_that this lesson is taught all through the Bible_. _And the third is_--THE ILLUSTRATIONS--_of this lesson_. And then, when put into its shortest form, our present subject may be thus expressed--_the lesson of liberality; its proofs; and its illustrations_. And the lesson which Jesus here taught is all wrapped up in this little word--"_Give_." Here we learn what the will of Jesus is on this subject. This is not simply the expression of his opinion. It is not merely his advice; no, but it is his _command_. He is speaking here as our Master--our King--our God. He _commands_ us to--give. And when we remember how he said to his disciples, "If ye love me, _keep my commandments_," we see plainly, that we have no right to consider ourselves as his disciples if we are neglecting this or any other of his plain commands. And this command about giving is not intended for any _one_ class of persons among the followers of Christ, but for _all_ of them. It is not a command designed for kings, or princes, or rich men only, but for the poor as well. It is not a command for grown persons alone, but for children also. As soon as we begin to _get_, God expects us to begin to _give_. Jesus says nothing here about _how much_ he expects us to give. But, from other places in the Bible, we learn that he expects us to give _at least one-tenth_ of all that we have. If we have a thousand dollars he expects us to give one hundred out of the thousand. If we have a hundred he expects us to give ten. If we have ten dollars we must give one of them to God. If we have only one dollar we must give ten cents of it to Him. If we have but ten cents we must give one of them. If we have no money to give, God expects us to give kind words, and kind actions, our sympathy and love. Jesus does not tell us here _how often_ we are to give, but simply--give. This means that we are to learn the lesson and form the habit of giving. His command is--give. And in giving us this command he is only asking us to imitate his own example. _He is giving all the time_. The apostle Paul tells us that Jesus is "exalted to the right hand of the Father to--give." He never tires of giving. "He giveth to all life, breath, and all things." And if we have not the Spirit of Christ in this respect, "we are none of his." This, then, is the lesson of liberality that Jesus taught when he said--"give." And that _giving is God's rule for getting_ is what we are taught by our Saviour, when he said--"_Give, and it shall be given unto you_." And now, having seen what this lesson of liberality is, which Jesus taught, _let us look at some of the Scripture proofs of it_. The same lesson is taught in other places in the Bible. Let us see what is said about it in some of these places. In Ps. xli: 1 David says--"Blessed is he that considereth the poor: the Lord will deliver him in time of trouble." Considering the poor here, means being kind to them, and giving them such things as they need. And the blessing promised to those who do this means that God will reward them by giving to them good things in great abundance. And, if this is so, then we have proof here that "giving is God's rule for getting." We have another proof that "giving is God's rule for getting," in Prov. iii: 9, 10. Here Solomon says--"Honor the Lord with thy substance, and with the first-fruits of all thine increase: So shall thy barns be filled with plenty, and thy presses shall burst out with new wine." When the Jewish farmers gathered in their harvests they were required to make an offering to God, of what had been gathered, before they used any part of it for themselves; and the offerings thus made were called "the first-fruits." God considered himself honored by his people when they did this, because they were keeping his commandments and doing what he wished them to do. And the meaning of this command, when we apply it to ourselves, is that we should give something to the cause of God from all the money, or property we have, and from all the gain, or increase that we make to the same. This is the Bible rule--the will or command of God for all his people. And then, in the other part of this passage we have the promise of God to all who do this. "So shall thy barns be filled with plenty, and thy presses shall burst out with new wine." This means that they shall be rich and prosperous. And so we see that this passage from the book of Proverbs, teaches the same lesson of liberality that our Saviour taught when he said--"_Give and it shall be given unto you_." It proves that "giving is God's rule for getting." And Solomon teaches the same, again, when he says, "The liberal soul shall be made fat; and he that watereth shall be watered also himself." Prov. xi: 25. A "liberal soul" means a person who is in the habit of giving; and to be "made fat" means to be prospered and happy. If you undertake to water a garden, you are _giving_ to the thirsty plants that which they need to make them grow and thrive; and when it is promised that the person who does this shall "be watered also himself," the meaning is that he shall have given to him all that is most important to supply his wants, and make him happy. And this, we see, is only teaching what our Saviour taught when he said, "Give, and it shall be given unto you." It furnishes us with another proof that "giving is God's rule for getting." In the nineteenth chapter of Proverbs and seventeenth verse we have a very clear proof of the lesson we are now considering. Here we find it said: "_He that hath pity upon the poor, lendeth unto the Lord; and that which he hath given will he pay him again_." Having pity on the poor, as here spoken of, means giving them such things as they need. Whatever we use in this way God looks upon as so much money lent unto him; and we have his solemn promise that when we lend anything to him, in this way, "He will pay us again." And when he pays again what has been lent to him, it is always with interest. He pays back four, or five, or ten times as much as was lent: to him. This proves that "giving is God's rule for getting." One other passage is all that need be referred to in order to prove that the lesson of liberality which our Saviour taught is the same lesson which the Bible teaches everywhere. In Eccles. xi: 1, God says, "_Cast thy bread upon the waters; for thou shalt find it after many days_." If we should see a man standing on the end of a wharf and throwing bread upon the waters, we should think that he was a foolish man, who was wasting his bread, or only feeding the fishes with it. But suppose that you and I were travelling through Egypt--the land of the celebrated pyramids and other great wonders. The famous river Nile is there. During our visit the inundation of that river takes place. It overflows its banks, and spreads its water over all the level plains that border on the river. This takes place every year. And when the fields are all overflowed with water, the farmers go out in boats, and scatter their grain over the surface of the water. The grain sinks to the bottom. The sediment in the water settles down on the grain, and covers it with mud. By and by the waters flow back into the river. The fields become dry. The grain springs up and grows. The mud that covered it is like rich manure, and makes it grow very plentifully, and yield a rich harvest. And here we see the meaning of this passage. God makes use of this Egyptian custom to teach us the lesson of liberality that we are now considering. He tells us that the money which we give to the poor, or use to do good with, is like the grain which the Egyptian farmer casts upon the water, and which will surely yield a rich harvest by and by. This teaches us the lesson of liberality. And when we think of all these passages, we see very clearly that the Bible teaches the same lesson which Jesus taught when he said to his disciples, "Give, and it shall be given unto you." And what we learn, both from the teaching of Christ, and from the different passages referred to, is--that "giving is God's rule for getting." And now, having seen some of the Bible, proofs for this lesson of liberality, or for this rule about giving and getting, _let us go on to speak of some of the illustrations of this rule_. These are very numerous. And we may draw our illustrations from three sources, viz.:--_from the Bible; from nature; and from everyday life_. There are two illustrations of which we may speak from the Bible. We find one of these in the history of the prophet Elijah. You remember that there was a great famine in the land of Israel during the lifetime of this prophet. For more than three years there was not a drop of rain all through the land. The fields, the vineyards, and gardens dried up, and withered, and yielded no fruit. During the first part of the time when this famine was prevailing, God sent Elijah to "the brook Cherith, that is before Jordan," I. Kings xvii: 7-17. There the ravens brought him food, and he drank of the water of the brook. But after awhile the brook dried up. Then God told him to go to the city of Zarephath, or Sarepta, on the coast of the Mediterranean Sea, and that he had commanded a widow woman there to sustain him. He did not tell him the name of the woman; nor the street she lived in; nor the number of her house. Elijah went. When he came near the place he met a woman, picking up some sticks of wood. I suppose God told him that this was the woman he was to stay with. Elijah spoke to her, and asked her if she would please give him a drink of water. When she was going to get it, he called to her again, and said he was hungry, and asked her to bring him a piece of bread. Then she told him that there was not a morsel of bread in her house. All she had in the world was a handful of meal in a barrel, and a little oil in a cruse, and that she was gathering a few sticks, that she might go and bake the last cake for herself and her son, that they might eat it and die. And Elijah said, "Fear not; go, and do as thou hast said; but make me thereof a little cake first, and bring it unto me, and after make for thee, and for thy son. For thus saith the Lord God of Israel, The barrel of meal shall not waste, neither shall the cruse of oil fail, until the day that the Lord sendeth rain upon the earth." This was a hard thing to ask a mother to do. It was asking her to take the last morsel of bread she had, and that she needed for herself and for her hungry boy, and give it to a stranger. Yet she did it; because she believed God. I seem to see her turning the meal barrel up, to get the meal all out. Then she pours out the oil from the cruse, and drains out the last drop. She mixes the meal and the olive oil together, as is the custom in that country still, and makes a cake which can soon be baked. She takes it to the man of God, who eats it thankfully, and is refreshed. Then she returns to the empty barrel and cruse, and finds as much in them as she had lately taken out. She prepares some bread for herself and her son, and they eat it thankfully as bread sent from heaven. The next day it is the same, and the day after, and so on through all the days of the famine. We are not told how long it was after Elijah went to the widow's house before the days of the famine were over. But suppose we make a calculation about it. The famine lasted for three years. Now let us suppose, that the first half of this time was spent by the prophet at the brook Cherith. Then his stay at the widow's house must have been at least eighteen months. And, if this miracle of increasing the meal and the oil was repeated only once a day, there would be for the first twelve months, or for the year, three hundred and sixty-five miracles; and for the six months, or the half year, one hundred and eighty-two more; and adding these together we have the surprising number of _five hundred and forty-seven_ miracles, that were performed to reward this good widow for the kindness she showed to the prophet Elijah, when she gave him a piece of bread, and a drink of water! What an illustration we have here of the truth we are considering, that _giving is God's rule for getting_. But the best illustration of this subject to be found in the Bible is given in our Saviour's own experience. He not only _preached_ the lesson of liberality, but _practised_ it. He is himself the greatest giver ever heard of. In becoming our Redeemer he showed himself the Prince of givers. He gave--not silver and gold; not all the wealth of the world, or of ten thousand worlds like ours; but "He gave _Himself_ for us." He can say indeed, to each of us, in the language of the hymn: "I gave my life for thee, My precious blood I shed, That thou might'st ransomed be, And quickened from the dead." And what is the result of this glorious giving to Jesus himself? St. Paul answers this question when he says, "Wherefore God also hath highly exalted him; and given him a name which is above every name; that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, of things in heaven, and things in earth, and things under the earth; And that every tongue should confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father," Phil, ii: 9-11. Because of what he gave "for us men, and for our salvation," he will be loved and praised and honored in heaven, on the earth, and through all the universe, above all other beings, for ever and ever. What a glorious illustration we have here of the truth of this statement, that "giving is God's rule for getting." These are some of the illustrations of this lesson of liberality that we find in the Bible. _And now, let us look at some illustrations of this subject, that we have in nature_. Solomon suggests one of these when he says, "_There is that scattereth, and yet increaseth_." Prov. xi: 26. He is evidently speaking here of a farmer sowing his fields with grain. Now suppose that we had never seen a man sowing; and that we knew nothing at all about the growth of grain, or how wonderfully the seed sown in the spring is increased and multiplied when the harvest is reaped. Then, the first time we saw a farmer sowing his fields, we should have been ready to say, "What a foolish man that is! He is taking that precious grain by the handful, and deliberately throwing it away." Of course, we should have expected that the grain thus thrown away, or scattered over the ground, would all be lost. But, if we could have come back to visit that farmer when he was gathering in his harvest, how surprised we should have been! Then we should have learned that for every handful of grain that the farmer had scattered, or, as we thought, thrown away, in the spring, when he was sowing, he had gained forty or fifty handfuls when he reaped in his harvest. Then we should have understood what Solomon meant when he said, "There is that scattereth, and yet increaseth." And we should have here a good illustration of our Saviour's lesson of liberality, when he said, "Give, and it shall be given unto you;" and of the Bible truth we are now studying, that "giving is God's rule for getting." Yonder is the great ocean; it is one of the grandest of nature's works. And the ocean gives us a good illustration of the lesson of liberality which our Saviour taught. The waters of the ocean are spread out for thousands of miles. As the sun shines on the surface of the ocean, it makes the water warm, and turns it into vapor, like the steam that comes from the boiling kettle. This vapor rises into the air, and helps to form the clouds that are floating there. These clouds sail over the land, and pour out the water that is in them, in refreshing and fertilizing showers of rain. This rain makes the rills start from the sides of the mountains. The rills run down into the rivers, and the rivers flow back into the sea again. In this way the ocean is a great giver. It has been giving away its water for hundreds and thousands of years, ever since the day when God made it. Now, let us suppose that the ocean could think, or speak; and that it had power to control its own motions. And suppose that the ocean should say:--"Well, I think I have been giving away water long enough. I am going to turn over a new leaf. The sun may shine as much as it pleases. I won't let another drop of water go out from my surface. I am tired of giving, and I mean to stop doing it, any longer." Let us pause for a moment here, and see what the effect of this would be upon the ocean itself. We know that all the water in the ocean is salt water. But when the sun takes water from the ocean, in the form of vapor, it is always taken out as fresh water. It leaves the salt behind it. Then the water on the surface of the ocean, from which this vapor has been taken, has more salt in it than the water underneath it. This makes it heavier than the other water. The consequence of this, is that this heavier water, on the top of the ocean, sinks to the bottom; and at the same time the lighter water at the bottom rises to the top. And so a constant change is taking place all over the ocean. The water from the top is sinking to the bottom, and the water from the bottom is rising to the top. And this is one of the means which God employs to keep the waters of the ocean always pure and wholesome. But if the ocean should stop giving away its water, as it has always been doing, then this constant change of its waters would cease. The ocean would be left still and stagnant. It would become a great mass of corruption; and the breezes from the ocean, that now carry health and life to those who breathe them, would carry only disease and death. And the thousands of people who now love the ocean and seek its shores every summer, to get strong and well by breathing the air that sweeps over its surface, and by bathing in its foaming surf, would all be afraid of the ocean; and would keep as far away from its shores as they could. And so we see how the ocean stands before us as a grand illustration of the lesson of liberality which our Saviour taught when he said, "Give, and it shall be given unto you." The ocean gives away its water continually, and, in return for this, God gives it freshness and purity, and makes it a blessing to the world. And so the ocean illustrates the truth of the lesson we are now studying, that "giving is God's rule for getting." And yonder is the great sun, shining up in the sky. We do not know as much about the sun as we do about the ocean, because it is so far away from us. The ocean is very near us. We can walk along its shores, and plunge into its waters, and sail over its surface. We can study out all about the laws that govern it, and what the effect of those laws is upon it. But it is very different with the sun. It is about ninety millions of miles away from us. This is too far off for us to know much about it. And yet, we know enough about the sun to get from it a good illustration of God's rule about giving and getting. The sun, like the ocean, is a great giver. It is giving away light all the time. It was made for this purpose; and for this purpose it is preserved. If the sun should stop giving, and should try to keep all its light and heat for itself, the effect would be its ruin. By ceasing to give it would be burnt up and destroyed. And so, when we see the sower sowing his seed, or the reaper gathering in his harvest; when we look upon the ocean, and see the clouds formed from its waters, as they go sailing through the sky; or when we see the sun rising in the morning, going forth again to his appointed work of giving light to a dark world; let us remember that these are nature's illustrations of the lesson of liberality which Jesus taught when he said, "Give, and it shall be given unto you." They all help to show how true it is, that "giving is God's rule of getting." _And now we may go on to look for our illustrations of this subject from everyday life_. If we are only watchful we shall meet with illustrations of this kind continually. It would not be difficult to fill a volume with them. Here are a few out of many that might be given. "The Travellers in the Snow." Two travellers were on a journey in a sleigh during a very severe winter. It was snowing fast as they drove along. One of the travellers was a liberal, generous-hearted man, who believed in giving; and was always ready to share whatever he had with others. His companion was a selfish ungenerous man. He did _not_ believe in giving; and liked to keep whatever he had for himself. As they drove along, they saw something covered up in the snow that looked like the figure of a man. "Look there," said the generous man to his friend, "that must be some poor fellow overcome by the cold. Let's stop and see what we can do for him." "You can get out, if you like," was his reply, "but it's too cold for me. I intend to stay where I am;" and he wrapped his furs closely round him. The other traveller threw aside his furs and jumped out of the sleigh. He found it was a poor man, who had sunk down in the snow a short time before, overcome by the cold. He shook the snow from him, and began to rub his hands and face and feet. He kept on rubbing for a good while. At last the man began to get warm again and was saved from death. Then the generous-hearted traveller helped him into the sleigh, and shared his wrappings with him. The exertion he had made in doing this kind act put him all in a glow of warmth. He made the rest of the journey in comfort. But when they stopped at the end of their journey, the selfish man, who was not willing to do anything for the help of another, had his fingers, and toes, and nose, and ears frozen. This illustrates the lesson of liberality; and shows that "giving is God's rule for getting." Here we see the truth of the lines which someone has written: "Numb and weary on the mountain Wouldst thou sleep amidst the snow? Chafe the frozen form beside thee, And together both shall glow. Art thou stricken in life's battle? Many wounded round thee moan; Lavish on their wounds thy balsams, And that balm shall heal thine own." "The Officer and the Soldier." In one of the terrible battles in Virginia, during the late war, a Union officer fell wounded in front of the Confederate breastwork, which had been attacked. His wounds brought on a raging fever, and he lay on the ground crying piteously for water. A kind-hearted Confederate soldier heard the touching cry, and leaping over the fortifications, with his canteen in his hand, he crawled up to the poor fellow and gave him a drink of water. O, what a comfort this was to the wounded man! His heart was filled with gratitude towards this generous and noble soldier. He pulled out his gold watch from his pocket, and cheerfully offered it to his benefactor; but he refused to take it. Then he asked the soldier's name and residence. He said his name was James Moore, and that he lived in Burke County, North Carolina. Then they parted. This noble soldier afterwards lost a limb in one of the Virginia battles, and returned to his home as a cripple. The officer recovered from his wounds; but he never forgot the kindness of that Confederate soldier. And when the war was over, and he was engaged in his business again, he wrote to James Moore, telling him that he intended to send him the sum of ten thousand dollars in four quarterly installments of twenty-five hundred dollars each; and that he wished him to receive the same in token of the heartfelt gratitude with which his generous kindness on the battle-field was remembered. Certainly these were two noble men. It is hard to tell which was the more noble of the two. But when the crippled soldier thought of the drink of water which he gave to the wounded officer, and of the ten thousand dollars which he received for the same, he must have felt how true our Saviour's words were, when he said: "Give, and it shall be given unto you." And he must have felt sure of the lesson we are now considering, that "Giving is God's rule for getting." "The Secret of Success." Some time ago a Christian gentleman was visiting a large paper mill that belonged to a friend of his, who was a very rich man. The owner of the mill took him all through it, and showed him the machinery, and told him how the paper was made. When they were through the visitor said to his friend, "I have one question to ask you; and if you will answer it, I shall feel very much obliged to you. I am told that you started in life very poor, and now you are one of the richest men in this part of the country. My question is _this_: will you please tell me the _secret_ of your success in business?" "I don't know that there is any great secret about it," said his friend, "but I will tell you all I know. I got a situation, and began to work for my own living when I was only sixteen years old. My wages, at first, were to be forty dollars a year, with my board and lodging. My clothing and all my other expenses were to come out of the forty dollars. I then made a solemn promise to the Lord that _one-tenth_ of my wages, or four dollars out of the forty, should be faithfully laid aside to be given to the poor, or to some religious work. This promise I kept religiously, and after laying aside one-tenth to give away, at the end of the year, besides meeting my expenses, I had more than a tenth left for myself. I then made a vow that whatever it might please God to give me, I would never give _less_ than one-tenth of my income to him. This vow I have faithfully kept from that day to this. If there be any secret to my success--_this is it_. Whatever I receive during the year, I feel sure that I am richer on nine-tenths of it, with God's blessing, than I should be on the whole of it, without that blessing. I believe that God has blessed me, and made my business prosper. And I am sure that anyone who will make the trial of this secret of success, will find it work as it has done in my case." This man was certainly proving the truth of our Saviour's words, when he said--"Give, and it shall be given unto you." And his experience shows most satisfactorily that "giving is God's rule for getting." "The Steamboat Captain and the Soldier." During the late war there was a steamboat, one day, in front of a flourishing town on the Ohio River. The captain, who had charge of her was the owner of the boat. The steam was up; and the captain was about to start on a trip some miles down the river with an excursion party, who had chartered the boat for the occasion. While waiting for the party to come on board, a poor wounded soldier came up to the captain. He said he was suffering from severe sickness, as well as from his wounds. He had been in the hospital. The doctor had told him he could not live long; and he was very anxious to get home, and see his mother again, before he died; and he wished to know if the captain would give him a passage down the river on his boat. On hearing where his home was, the captain said that the party who had chartered his boat were going near that place; and he told the poor soldier that he would gladly take him to his home. But, when the excursion party came on board, and saw the soldier, with his soiled and worn clothes, and his ugly-looking wounds, they were not willing to let him go; and asked the captain to put him ashore. The captain told the soldier's sad story, and pleaded his cause very earnestly. He said he would place him on the lower deck and put a screen round his bed, so that they could not see him. But the young people refused. They said as they had hired the boat, it belonged to them for the day, and they were not willing to have such a miserable-looking object on board their boat; and that if the captain did not put him off, they would hire another boat, and he would lose the twenty dollars they had agreed to give him for the day's excursion. The good captain made one more appeal to them. He asked them to put themselves in the poor soldier's place, and then to think how they would like to be treated. But still they refused to let the soldier go. Then the noble-hearted captain said: "Well, ladies and gentlemen, whether you hire my boat or not, I intend to take this soldier home to-day." The party did hire another boat. The captain lost his twenty dollars. But, when he returned the poor dying soldier to the arms of his loving mother, he felt that the tears of gratitude with which she thanked him were worth more than the money he had lost. The gentle mother dressed the wounds of her poor suffering boy; and nursed and cared for him, as none but a mother knows how to do. But she could not save his life. He died after a few days; and the last words he spoke, as his loving parents stood weeping at his bedside were--"Don't forget the good captain." And he was not forgotten. For after the soldier's funeral was over, his father went up the river to the town where the captain lived. He found him out. He thanked him again for his kindness in bringing home his dying boy; and made him a present that was worth four or five times the twenty dollars he had lost for the hire of his boat. But this was not the end of it. For not long after this, the captain and his wife were taken suddenly ill with a fatal disease that was prevailing in that region of the country. They both died; leaving two little orphan children, with no one to take care of them. The soldier's father heard of it; and he went at once and asked that he might be permitted to take the two helpless little ones and adopt them as his own children. He took them home; and was a father and a friend to them as long as he lived. How beautifully our Saviour's words--"Give, and it shall be given unto you," are illustrated in this story! How clearly we see here, that "Giving is God's rule for getting!" I have just one other illustration before closing this subject. We may call it: "The Miser and the Hungry Children." In a village in England were two little motherless girls who lived in a small cottage. Sally, the elder, was about eight years old and her sister Mary was six. They were very poor. Their father was a laboring man, and he found great difficulty in supporting himself and his children. Once, in the midst of winter, these two little girls were left alone all day, as their father had gone out to work. They had their breakfast in the morning with their father, before he left. But they had no dinner, nor anything to eat during the rest of the day. About the middle of the afternoon, Mary said to her sister: "Sally, I'm very hungry. Is there anything in the closet that we can get to eat?" "No," said Sally; "I've looked all through the closet; but there isn't a crust of bread, or a cold potato; nor anything to eat. I wish there was something; for I'm hungry too." "O, dear! what shall we do?" cried Mary; "I'm too hungry to wait till father comes home!" "Mary," said her sister, "suppose we ask our Father in heaven to give us something to eat? Let us kneel down, and say the Lord's Prayer. When we come to that part about 'daily bread' we'll say it over three times, and then wait, and see if God will send us some." Mary agreed to this. They both kneeled down, and Sally began: "Our Father, who art in heaven; hallowed be thy name; thy kingdom come; thy will be done on earth, as it is in heaven: give us this day our daily bread; give us this day our daily bread; give us this day our daily bread." Then they waited quietly, to see if anything would come. And now, while this was going on inside of that little cottage, let me tell you what was taking place outside. Not far from this cottage lived an old man who was a miser. He had a good deal of money, but he never gave any of it to others; and never would spend a penny for himself, if he could possibly help it. But, on that afternoon, he had left home to go to the baker's and buy a loaf of bread. He got the loaf, and, as it was a stormy afternoon, he put it under his coat before starting to walk home. Now, it happened, that just as he was passing the cottage in which the little girls were, a strong blast of wind blew the rain in his face, and he stepped into the porch of the cottage and crouched down in the corner, to shelter himself from the wind and rain. In this position his ear was brought quite close to the keyhole of the door. He heard what the little girls had said about being hungry. He heard their proposal to pray to the Father in heaven to give them bread. He heard the thrice repeated prayer--"give us this day our daily bread." And then came the silence, when the little ones waited, and watched for the bread. This had a strange effect on the miser. His hard, selfish heart, which had never felt a generous feeling for anyone, warmed up, and grew suddenly soft in tenderness towards these helpless, hungry little ones. Tears moistened his eyes. He put his thumb on the latch of the door. The latch was gently lifted and the door opened. He took the loaf from under his coat and threw it into the room. The little girls, still waiting and watching on their knees, saw the loaf go bouncing over the floor. They jumped up on their feet, and clapped their hands for joy. "O, Sally," said little Mary, "how good God is to answer our prayer so soon! Did He send an angel from heaven to bring us this bread?" "I don't know who brought it," answered Sally, "but I am sure that God sent it." And how about the miser? For the first time in his life he had given to the poor. Did the promise fail which says, "Give, and it shall be given unto you?" No; God's promises _never_ fail. He went to the bakery and bought another loaf for himself, and then he went home with different feelings from what he had ever had before. The warm, soft feeling that came into his hard heart when he gave the loaf to those children did not pass away. It grew upon him. He had found so much pleasure in doing that one kind act that he went on and did more. And God blessed him in doing it. He began to pray to that God who had answered the prayer of those little girls for bread in such a strange way. He read the Bible. He went to church. He became a Christian; and some time after, he died a happy Christian death. But before he died, as he was the owner of the cottage in which the little girls lived, he gave it to their father. What a beautiful illustration we have here of our Saviour's words--"Give, and it shall be given unto you!" This miser gave _a loaf of bread_ to these hungry children and God gave him _the grace that made him a Christian_! And as we think of this we may well say that "giving _is_ God's rule for getting." And thus we have considered the lesson of liberality which our Saviour taught; the proofs of that lesson found in the Bible; and the illustrations of it from the Bible, from nature, and from everyday life. The three things to be remembered from this subject are _the lesson_--_the proofs_--_the illustrations_. I will quote here, in finishing, three verses which teach the same lesson that our Saviour taught when he spoke the words from which I have tried to draw the lesson of liberality. The title at the head of them is taken from Solomon's words in one of the passages from the book of Proverbs, which we have already used. "THERE IS THAT SCATTERETH AND YET INCREASETH." "Is thy cruse of comfort wasting? Rise, and share it with another; And through all the years of famine, It shall serve thee and thy brother. God himself will fill thy storehouse, Or thy handful still renew: Scanty fare for _one_ will often Make a royal feast for _two_. "For the heart grows rich in giving; All its wealth is living grain: Seeds which mildew in the garner, Scattered, fill with gold the plain. Is thy burden hard and heavy? Do thy steps drag wearily? Help to bear thy brother's burden,-- God will bear both it and thee. "Is thy heart a well left empty? None but God its void can fill; Nothing but a ceaseless fountain Can this ceaseless longing still. Is the heart a living power? Self-entwined its strength sinks low; It can only live in loving, And by serving love will grow." CHRIST TEACHING HUMILITY During the earthly life of our blessed Saviour, we see how everything connected with it teaches the lesson of humility. This is pointed out in the beautiful collect in The Book of Common Prayer for the first Sunday in Advent. Here we are taught to say:--"Almighty God, give us grace to cast away the works of darkness, and put upon us the armor of light, now in the time of this mortal life, in which thy Son Jesus Christ came to visit us in--great _humility_." If Jesus had come into our world as an angel, it would have been an act of humility. If he had come as a great and mighty king, it would have been an act of humility. But when he was born in a stable, and cradled in a manger; when he could say of himself, "the foxes have holes, and the birds of the air have nests, but the Son of man hath not where to lay his head;" when there never was an acre, or a foot of ground that he called his own, although he made the world and all things in it; when he sailed in a borrowed boat, and was buried in a borrowed tomb; how well it might be said that he was teaching humility all the days of his life on earth! Yet he did not think that _this_ was enough. And so he gave his disciples a special lesson on this subject. We have an account of this lesson in St. John xiii: 4-15. It is taught us in these words:--"He riseth from supper, and laid aside his garments; and took a towel and girdled himself. After that he poureth water into a bason, and began to wash his disciples' feet, and to wipe them with the towel wherewith he was girded." Then occurs the incident about the objection which Peter made to letting Jesus wash his feet, and the way in which that objection was overcome. And then the story goes on thus:--"So after he had washed their feet, and had taken his garments, and was set down again, he said unto them, 'Know ye what I have done unto you? Ye call me Master, and Lord; and ye say well; for so I am. If I then, your Lord and Master, have washed your feet; ye ought also to wash one another's feet. For I have given you an example, that ye should do as I have done to you.'" This was a very surprising scene. How astonished the angels must have been when they looked upon it! They had known Jesus in heaven, before he took upon him our nature, and came into this fallen world. They had seen him in "the glory which he had with the Father, before the world was." They had worshipped him in the midst of all that glory. And then, when they saw him, girded with a towel and washing the feet of poor sinful men whom he came from heaven to save, how surprising it must have seemed to them! And when Jesus told his disciples that his object in doing this was to set them an example, that they should do as he had done to them, he did not mean that they should literally make a practice of washing each other's feet; but that they should show the same humility to others that he had shown to them, by being willing to do anything, however humble it might be, in order to promote their comfort and happiness. It is not the act itself, here spoken of, that Jesus teaches us to do; but the spirit of humility in which the act was performed that he teaches us to cultivate. We might go through the form of washing the feet of other persons, and yet feel proud and haughty all the time we were doing it. Then we should not be following the example of Jesus at all. When Jesus washed his disciples' feet, what he wished to teach them, and us, and all his people, is how earnestly he desires us to learn this lesson of humility. And when we think of the wondrous scene which took place on that occasion, the one thought it should impress on our minds, above all others is--_the importance of humility_. And if any one asks what is meant by humility? No better answer can be given to this question than we find in Romans xii: 3, where St. Paul tells us "not to think of ourselves more highly than we ought to think, but to think soberly." Pride is "thinking of ourselves more highly than we ought to think." Humility is--_not_ "thinking of ourselves more highly than we ought to think." And humility is the lesson we are now to study. This is the lesson that Jesus wishes all who love him to learn. It is easy to speak of _five_ reasons why we should learn this lesson. _And the first reason for learning it is--the_ COMMAND--_of Jesus_. When he had finished washing his disciples' feet, he told them that "they should do as he had done to them." This was his command to his disciples, and to us, to learn the lesson of humility. And this is not the only place in which Jesus taught this lesson. He gave some of his beautiful parables to teach humility. We find one of these in St. Luke xiv: 7-12. On one occasion when he saw the people all pressing forward to get the best seats for themselves at a feast, he took the opportunity of giving his disciples a lesson about humility. He told them, when they were bidden to a wedding feast, not to take the highest seats; because some more honorable person might be bidden, and when the master of the feast came in he might say to them 'let this man have that seat, and you go and take a lower seat'; then they would feel mortified, and ashamed. And then he gave his disciples this command: "When thou art bidden, go and sit down in the lowest room," or seat; "that when he that bade thee cometh, he may say unto thee, Friend, go up higher: then shalt thou have worship"--or honor--"in the presence of them that sit at meat with thee." Here we have Jesus repeating his command to all his people to learn and practise the lesson of humility. And then we have another of our Saviour's parables in which he taught this same lesson of humility, and that is the parable of the Pharisee and the Publican. We find it in St. Luke xviii: 10-15. The parable reads thus: "Two men went up into the temple to pray; the one a Pharisee, and the other a publican. The Pharisee stood and prayed thus with himself, 'God, I thank thee, that I am not as other men are, extortioners, unjust, adulterers, or even as this publican. I fast twice in the week, I give tithes of all that I possess.'" Here we have a picture of a proud man. He pretended to pray, but asked for nothing, because he did not feel his need of anything. And so his pretended prayer brought him no blessing. And then in the rest of the parable we have our Saviour's description of a man who was learning the lesson of humility, and of the blessing which it brought to him. Here is a story told by one of our missionaries of the way in which this parable brought a heathen man to Christ. "That's Me." A poor Hottentot in Southern Africa lived with a Dutch farmer, who was a good Christian man, and kept up family prayer in his home. One day, at their family worship he read this parable. He began, "Two men went up into the temple to pray." The poor savage, who had been led to feel himself a sinner, and was anxious for the salvation of his soul, looked earnestly at the reader, and whispered to himself, "Now I'll learn how to pray." The farmer read on, "God, I thank Thee that I am not as other men are." "No, I am not," whispered the Hottentot, "but I'm worse." Again the farmer read, "I fast twice in the week; I give tithes of all that I possess." "I don't do that. I don't pray in that way. What shall I do?" said the distressed savage. The good man read on till he came to the publican, "standing afar off." "That's where I am," said the Hottentot. "Would not lift up so much as his eyes unto heaven," read the farmer. "That's me," cried his hearer. "But smote upon his breast saying, God be merciful to me a sinner." "That's me; that's my prayer," cried the poor creature, and smiting on his dark breast, he prayed for himself in the words of the parable,--"God be merciful to me a sinner!" And he went on offering this prayer till the loving Saviour heard and answered him, and he went down to his house a saved and happy man. Thus we see how this poor man learned the lesson of humility which Jesus taught, and how much good it did to him. And it is Jesus who is speaking to us and commanding us to learn this lesson of humility, when we read, in other passages of Scripture, such words as these:--"Put on therefore--humbleness of mind, meekness, long-suffering." Col. iii: 12. "Humble yourself therefore in the sight of God." James iv: 10. "Be clothed with humility." I. Pet. v: 5. In all these places we have Jesus repeating his command to us to learn the lesson of humility. And this command is urged thus earnestly upon us because it is so important. When St. Augustine, one of the celebrated fathers of the early Church, was asked--What is the first important thing in the Christian religion? his reply was--"Humility." "What is the second?" "Humility." "And what is the third?"--the reply still was--"Humility." And if this be true, we need not wonder that Jesus should have been so earnest in teaching this lesson; or that he should have urged so strongly on his disciples to learn it. The _command_ of Christ is the first reason why we should learn the lesson of humility. _But the second reason why we should learn this lesson is, because of the_--EXAMPLE--_of Christ_. There are many persons "who say and do not." There are some ministers who preach very well, but they do not _practise_ what they preach. Such persons may well be compared to finger-boards. They point out the way to others, but they do not walk in it themselves. But this was not the case with our blessed Saviour. He practised everything that he preached. And when he gave us his command to learn this lesson of humility, he gave us, at the same time, his example to show us _how_ to do it. He was illustrating this command by his example when he washed his disciples' feet. And this was only one out of many things in which he set us this example. When he chose to be born of poor parents, he was giving an example of humility. When he lived at Nazareth till he was thirty years of age, working with his reputed father as a carpenter, and during the latter part of the time, as is supposed, laboring for the support of his mother, he was giving an example of humility. When he said, "The Son of man came not to be ministered unto, but to minister," Matt. xx: 28; and again--"I am among you as he that serveth," Luke xxii: 27, he was giving an example of humility. When he borrowed an ass to make his triumphal entrance into Jerusalem; though he could say in truth, "every beast of the forest is mine, and the cattle upon a thousand hills;"--(Ps. 1: 10), he was setting an example of humility. When he hid himself away from the people because he saw that they wanted to take him by force and make him king, he was giving a lesson of humility. When he allowed himself to be taken prisoner, though he knew that if he had asked his Father in heaven, he would, at once, have sent "more than twelve legions of angels" to deliver him, he was giving an example of humility. When he kept silence, at the bar of the high-priest, of Herod, of Pontius Pilate, like "a lamb dumb before her shearers," while his enemies were charging him falsely with all kinds of wickedness; when he allowed the Roman soldiers to scourge him with rods, till his back was all bleeding; to put a crown of thorns upon his head; to array him in a purple robe in mockery of his being a king; to smite him with the palms of their hands, and spit upon him; and then to nail him to the cross, and put him to the most shameful of all deaths--as if he were a wicked man, who did not deserve to live--he was giving the most wonderful example of humility that ever was heard of. Jesus, the Lord of glory hanging on the shameful cross!--O, this was an example of humility that must have filled the angels of heaven with surprise, and wonder! And when we think of all that Jesus did and suffered, to set us an example of humility, it should make us ashamed of being proud; and anxious, above all things, to learn this lesson which he did so much to teach us. "Imitating Christ's Humility." I think I never heard of a more beautiful instance of persons learning to imitate the humility of Christ, than is told of some Moravian Missionaries. These good men had heard the story of the unhappy slaves in the West Indies. Those poor creatures were wearing out their lives in hard bondage. They had very little comfort in this life, and no knowledge of that gracious Saviour who alone can secure, for sinful creatures, such as we are, a better portion in the life to come. These missionaries offered to go out to the West Indies, and teach those slaves about Jesus, and the great salvation that is to be found in him. But they were told that the owners of the slaves would not let them go to school or to church. They would not allow them to take time enough from their work to learn anything about the salvation of their souls. There was only one way in which those poor slaves could be taught anything about Jesus and his love, and that was, for those who wished to teach them, to go and be slaves on the plantations, to work, and toil, if need be, under the lash, so that they could get right beside them and then tell them about the way of salvation that is in Christ Jesus. This was a hard thing to undertake. But those good missionaries said they were willing to do it. And they not only _said_ it, but _did_ it. They left their homes, and went to the West Indies. They worked on the plantations as slaves. And working thus, by the side of the slaves, they got close to their hearts. The slaves heard them. Their hearts were touched because these teachers of the gospel had humbled themselves to their condition. While they were teaching the commands of Christ, they were illustrating and following his example. How beautiful this was! How grand! How glorious! And yet Christ's own example was still more glorious. He laid aside the glory of his Godhead, and came down from heaven to earth, that he might get by our side. He laid himself beside us that we might feel the throbbings of his bosom and the embrace of his loving arms; and he draws us close to himself, while he whispers in our ears the sweet words, "God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life." And so, when we think of the example of Christ, we should strive to learn the lesson of humility which he taught. _A third reason why we should learn this lesson of humility is because of the_--COMFORT--_that is found in it_. Just think for a moment what God says on this subject, in Is. lvii: 15. These are his words:--"Thus saith the high and mighty One that inhabiteth eternity, whose name is Holy; I dwell in the high and holy place, with him also that is of a contrite and humble spirit, to revive the spirit of the humble, and to revive the heart of the contrite ones." Here, the same loving Saviour who gave us the command to learn the lesson of humility promises to give comfort to all who learn this lesson. And the way in which he secures this comfort to them is by coming and dwelling in their hearts. And who can tell what a comfort it is for a poor pardoned sinner to have Jesus--the Lord of heaven and earth--dwelling in his heart? It is his presence in heaven which makes those who dwell there feel so happy. This is what David taught, when he looked up to him, and said--"In thy presence is fulness of joy." Ps. 16: 11. And when that presence is felt, here on earth, it gives comfort and joy, as certainly as it does in heaven. It was the presence of Jesus which enabled Paul and Silas to sing at midnight, for very joyfulness, in the prison at Philippi, though their feet were fastened in the stocks, and their backs were torn and bleeding from the cruel scourging which they had suffered. And it was this presence of Christ in the hearts of his people that good John Newton was speaking of, in one of his sweet hymns, when he said: "While blest with a sense of his love A palace a toy would appear; And prisons would palaces prove, If Jesus would dwell with me there." But it is only those who learn the lesson of humility that Jesus will dwell with. He says himself, "If any man love me, he will keep my words; and My Father will love him; and we will come unto him, and make our abode with him." St. John xiv: 23. And among the words of Christ which we must keep, if we wish him to dwell in our hearts, are those in which he commands the lesson of humility. It is only the humble with whom he will dwell. For "every one that is proud in heart is an abomination unto the Lord." Prov. xvi: 5. The reason why so many people are unhappy in this world is that they do not learn the lesson of humility. "Learn to Stoop." The story is told of some celebrated man--I think it was Dr. Franklin--who had a friend visiting him on one occasion. When the gentleman was about to leave, the doctor accompanied him to the front door. In going through the entry there was a low beam across it, which made it necessary to stoop, in order to avoid being struck by it. As they approached it the doctor stooped himself, and called out to his friend to do the same. He did not heed the caution, and received a severe thump on his head as the result of his neglect. In bidding him good-bye, the doctor said--"Learn to stoop, my friend; and it will save you from many a hard knock, as you go on through life." This illustrates the comfort which comes from learning the lesson of humility. It is those who are unwilling to stoop; or to be anything, or nothing, as God wants them to be, who have no comfort. "The Fable of the Oak and the Violet." In a large garden there grew a fine oak tree, with its wide-spreading branches, and at its foot there grew a sweet and modest violet. The oak one day looked down in scorn upon the violet, and said: "You, poor little thing, will soon be dead and withered; for you have no strength, no size, and are of no good to anyone. But I am large and strong; I shall still live for ages, and then I shall be made into a large ship to sail on the ocean, or into coffins to hold the dust of princes." "Yes," answered the violet, in its humility, "God has given _you_ strength, and _me_ sweetness. I offer him back my fragrance, and am thankful. I hope to die fragrantly, as I have lived fragrantly, but we are both only what God made us, and both where God placed us." Not long after the oak was struck by lightning and shivered to splinters. Its end was to be burned. But the violet was gently gathered by the hand of a Christian lady, who carefully pressed it, and kept it for years, in the leaves of her Bible to refresh herself with its fragrance. Here we see illustrated the difference between pride and humility. "The Secret of Comfort." Some years ago there was a boy who had been lame from his birth. He was a bright intelligent boy, but he was not a Christian. As he grew up, with no other prospect before him but that of being a cripple all his days, he was very unhappy. As he sat by his window, propped up in his chair, and saw the boys playing in the street, he would say to himself: "Why has God made me thus? Why have I not limbs to run and jump with like other boys?" These thoughts filled him with distress, and caused him to shed many bitter tears. One day a Christian friend, who was visiting him, gave him a book and requested him to read it. He did so; and it led to his becoming a Christian. His heart was renewed; the burden of his sin was removed; and the love of God was shed abroad in his heart by the Holy Ghost. He learned the lesson of humble submission to the will of God. After this, as he looked out, and saw the young people happy at their sports; or, as he gazed on the green earth and the beautiful sky, and knew that he must remain a helpless cripple as long as he lived, he yet could say, with the utmost cheerfulness:--"It's all right. My Father in heaven has done it. I love him. He loves me. I know he is making all things work together for my good." He had learned the lesson we are now considering, and we see what comfort it gave him. And the thought of the comfort which this lesson gives, should be a good reason with us all for learning it. _A fourth reason why we should learn the lesson of humility is because of the_--USEFULNESS--_connected with it_. Jesus tells us, by his apostle, that "God resisteth the proud, but giveth grace to the humble." St. James iv: 6. If we have the grace of God we can be useful in many ways, but, without that grace we cannot be useful at all. And this is what our Saviour taught his disciples, when he said to them--"without me ye can do nothing." St. John xv: 5. By the words "without _me_" he meant without my help, or without my grace; or without the help of my grace. And it was of this grace that St. Paul was speaking when he said--"I can do all things through Christ who strengtheneth me." Phil, iv: 13. And we could not possibly have a stronger reason for trying to learn the lesson of humility than this, that our receiving the grace of God, and consequently our usefulness, depends upon it. God will not give us his grace to enable us to be truly good and to make ourselves useful, unless we learn this lesson. And unless we have the grace of God, we cannot be useful. Like barren fig-trees we shall be useless cumberers of the ground. Now let us look at one or two illustrations which show us how pride hinders the usefulness of men, while humility helps it. "The Fisherman's Mistake." An English gentleman was spending his summer holidays in Scotland. He concluded to try his hand at fishing for trout in one of the neighboring streams. He bought one of the handsomest fishing rods he could find, with line and reel, and artificial flies, and everything necessary to make a perfect outfit for a fisherman. He went to the trout stream, and toiled all day, but never caught a single fish. Towards the close of the day he saw a ragged little farmer boy, with a bean pole for a rod, and the simplest possible sort of a line, who was nipping the fish out of the water about as fast as he could throw his line in. He watched the boy in amazement for awhile, and then asked him how it was that one, with so fine a rod and line, could catch no fish, while he with his poor outfit was catching so many. The boy's prompt reply was:--"Ye'll no catch ony fish Sir, as lang as ye dinna keep yersel' oot o' sicht." The gentleman was proud of his handsome rod and line, and was showing it off all the time. His pride hindered his usefulness as a fisherman. The farmer's boy had nothing to show off; so he kept himself out of sight, and thus his humility helped his usefulness in fishing. "The Thames' Tunnel Teaching Humility." Most strangers who visit the great city of London go to see the famous tunnel under the river Thames. This is a large, substantial road that has been built, in the form of an arch, directly under the bed of the river. It is one of the most wonderful works that human skill ever succeeded in making. The man who planned and built it was made one of the nobility of England. His name was Sir Isambard Brunel. He was so humble that he was willing to learn a lesson from a tiny little ship worm. These worms bore small round holes through the solid timbers of our ships. One day Mr. Brunel visited a ship-yard. An old ship was on the dry-dock getting repaired. A quantity of worm-eaten timber had been taken out from her sides. He picked up one of these pieces of timber, and saw a worm at work, boring its way through. If he had been a proud man, he might have thrown the timber aside, and said--"Get away you poor little worm. I am a great master builder. You can't teach me anything." And if he had done so that famous tunnel under the Thames would probably never have been built. But Mr. Brunel had learned the lesson of humility. He was willing to learn from anything that God had made, however insignificant it might be. So he sat down and watched the worm at its work. He studied carefully the form of the hole it was boring. The thought occurred to him how strong a tunnel would be, that was made in the shape of this hole! And when he was asked whether it would be possible to build a tunnel under the Thames, he said he thought it could be done. He undertook to build it. He succeeded in the work. But, in accomplishing the great undertaking that little ship-worm was his teacher. And now, if any of my young friends who may read this book should ever visit London, and go to see the great tunnel, as they gaze in wonder at it, let them remember Sir I. Brunel, and that little ship-worm; and then, let them say to themselves: "This mighty tunnel is an illustration of the truth that humility helps to make us useful." "George Washington and His Humility." Here is a story connected with the great and good Washington--"the Father of his country," which illustrates very well this part of our subject. During the war of the American Revolution, the commander of a little squad of soldiers was superintending their operations as they were trying to raise a heavy piece of timber to the top of some military works which they were engaged in repairing. It was hard work to get the timber up, and so the commander, who was a proud man and thought himself of great importance, kept calling out to them from time to time, "Push away, boys! There she goes! Heave ho!" While this was going on, an officer on horseback, but not in military dress, rode by. He asked the commander why he did not take hold, and give the men a little help. He looked at the stranger in great astonishment, and then, with all the pride of an emperor, said: "Sir, I'd have you know that I am a corporal!" "You are--are you?" replied the officer, "I was not aware of that," and then taking off his hat, and making a low bow, said, "I ask your pardon Mr. Corporal." After this he got off his horse, and throwing aside his coat, he took hold and helped the men at their work till they got the timber into its place. By this time the perspiration stood in drops upon his forehead. He took out his handkerchief and wiped his brow. Then turning to the commander he said: "Mr. Corporal, when you have another such job on hand, and have not men enough to do it, send for your Commander-in-chief, and I will come and help you again." It was General Washington who did and said this. The Corporal was thunderstruck! The great Washington, though honored above all men on the continent, was humble enough to put his hand and shoulder to the timber, that he might help the humblest of his soldiers, who were struggling for the defence of their country, to bear the burdens appointed to them. This is an excellent illustration of the truth we are now considering. And certainly we should all try to learn the lesson of humility which Jesus taught, when we see how it helps to make us useful. _And then there is one other reason why we should learn this lesson, and that is because of the_--BLESSING--_that attends it_. Mary, the Mother of Jesus, in her noble song about the birth of her wonderful Son, said that God "filleth the hungry with good things, and sendeth the rich empty away." By the "_hungry"_ she meant the _humble_ and by the "_rich"_ the _proud_. And the "good things" with which God fills them mean the blessings He bestows on the humble. Our Saviour taught the same truth when he said, "he that humbleth himself shall be exalted." Luke xiv: 11. Being exalted here means being honored and blessed. These passages teach very clearly the truth of which we are now speaking. They show us that we must learn the lesson of humility if we hope to have God's blessing rest upon us. And it is not more true that two and two make four, than it is that God's blessing _does_ attend and follow those who learn the lesson of humility. How many illustrations of this truth we find in the Bible! Moses had learned the lesson of humility before God sent him on his great mission, which has given him a name and a place among the most famous men of the world. Gideon had learned the lesson of humility before God made choice of him to be the deliverer of his people Israel from the hands of their enemies; and then, for years to be their honored ruler. John the Baptist was so humble that he said of himself that he was not worthy to stoop down and unloose the latchet of our Saviour's shoe; and yet Jesus said of him that he was one of the greatest men that ever had been born. The apostle Paul was so humble that he considered himself "less than the least of all saints," and "the chief of sinners;" and yet God honored and blessed him till he became the most famous and useful of all the apostles. If we turn from the Bible, and look out into the world around us, we may compare proud people to the tops of the mountains; these are bare and barren, and of little use to the world. We may compare humble people to the plains and valleys. These are fertile and beautiful, and are the greatest blessing to the world, in the abundance of grain, and fruit, and other good things which they yield. And then, if we take notice of what is occurring in the scenes of daily life, we shall meet with incidents continually which furnish us with illustrations of the part of our subject now before us, that God crowns the humble with his blessing. Let us look at one or two of these illustrations. "The Little Loaf." In a certain part of Germany, some years ago, a famine was prevailing, and many of the people were suffering from hunger. A kind-hearted rich man sent for twenty of the poorest children in the village where he lived, to come to his house. As they stood on the porch of his house, he came out to them bringing a large basket in his hand. He set it down before him and said: "Children, in this basket there is bread for you all. Take a loaf, each of you, and come back every day at this hour, till it shall please God to send us better times." Then he left the children to themselves and went into the house, but watched them through the window. The hungry children seized the basket, quarreled and struggled for the bread, because each of them wished to get the best and largest loaf. Then they went away without ever thanking the good gentleman for his kindness. But one little girl, named Gretchen, poorly but neatly dressed, remained, humbly standing by, till the rest were gone. Then she took the last loaf left in the basket, the smallest of the lot. She looked up to the window where the gentleman stood; smiled at him; threw him a kiss, and made a low curtsey in token of her gratitude, and then went quickly home. The next day the other children were just as ill-behaved as they had been before, and the timid humble Gretchen received a loaf this time not more than half the size of the one she had on the previous day. But when she came home, and her poor sick mother cut the loaf open, a number of new silver pieces of money, fell rattling and shining out of it. Her mother was frightened, and said, "Take the money back at once to the good gentleman; for it must certainly have dropped into the dough by accident. Be quick Gretchen! be quick!" But when the little girl came to the good man and gave him her mother's message, he kindly said, "No, no, my child, it was no mistake. I had the silver pieces put into the smallest loaf as a reward for you. Continue to be as humble, peaceable, self-denying, and grateful as you have now shown yourself to be. A little girl who is humble enough to take the smallest loaf rather than quarrel for the larger ones, will be sure to receive greater blessings from God than if she had silver pieces of money baked in every loaf of bread she ate. Go home now, and greet your good mother very kindly for me." Here we see how God's blessing attends the humble. "Humility Proving a Blessing." Some time ago a young man went into the office of one of the largest dry-goods houses in New York and asked for a situation. He was told to call again another day. Going down Broadway that same afternoon, when opposite the Astor House, he saw an old apple woman, in trying to cross the street, struck by an omnibus, knocked down, and her basket of apples sent scattering into the gutter. The young man stepped out of the crowd, helped the old woman to her feet, put her apples into her basket, and went on his way, without thinking of it. Now a proud man would never have thought of doing such a thing as that. But this young man had learned the lesson of humility, and did not hesitate a moment to do this kind act. When he called again to see about the situation, he was asked what wages he expected. He stated what he thought would be right. His proposal was accepted. The situation was given him, and he went to work. About a year afterwards, his employer took him aside one day, reminded him of the incident about the old apple woman; told him he was passing at the time, and saw it; and that it was this circumstance which induced him to offer the vacant situation to him, in preference to a hundred others who were applying for it. Here we see what a blessing this young man's humility proved to him! And thus we see that there are five good reasons why we should learn the lesson of humility. These are the _command_ of Christ; the _example_ of Christ; the _comfort_ that humility gives; the _usefulness_ to which it leads; and the _blessing_ that attends it. The first verse of the hymn we often sing contains a very suitable prayer to offer when we think of the lesson of humility we have now been considering: "Lord forever at thy side Let my place and portion be; Strip me of the robe of pride Clothe me with humility." CHRIST AND THE LITTLE CHILDREN If, when Jesus was here on earth, he had shown a great interest in kings, and princes, in rich, and wise, and great men, it would not have been surprising; because he was a king and a prince, himself; he was richer than the richest, and wiser than the wisest, and greater than the greatest. But he did not do this. He took no particular notice of them; but he showed the greatest possible interest in children. When mothers brought their little ones to him, the disciples wanted to keep them away. They thought, no doubt, that he was too busy to take any notice of them. But they were mistaken. He was very busy indeed. He had many lessons to teach. He had sermons to preach; and sick people to heal; and blind eyes to open; and deaf ears to unstop; and lame men to make whole; and dead men to raise to life again. He had all his Father's will to make known to men; and all his Father's commandments to keep. He had to suffer, and to die for the sins of the world; that he might "open the kingdom of heaven to all believers." He was the busiest man that ever lived. Nobody ever had so much to do as he had. And yet, he was not too busy to attend to the little children. He had time to give to them. So he rebuked his disciples for trying to keep the children away from him. He told the mothers to bring them near. They did so. And then, one by one, "he took them up in his arms, put his hands upon them and blessed them." And when he had done this, as though that were not enough, he spoke those precious, glorious, golden words:--"_Suffer the little children to come unto me, and forbid them not, for of such is the kingdom of heaven_," "verily I say unto you, whosoever shall not receive the kingdom of God as a little child, he shall not enter therein." These things are told us by three of the evangelists. St. Matthew mentions them in chapter xix: 13-15. St. Mark x: 13-16, and St. Luke xviii: 15-17. On another occasion, when he was in the temple, the children sang hosannas to him as the son of David. The chief priests and scribes were greatly displeased, when they heard it, and "said unto him, hearest thou what these say? and Jesus said unto them, yea: have ye never read, out of the mouths of babes and sucklings thou hast perfected praise?" Matt, xxi: 15, 16. Here he quoted from the Old Testament (Ps. viii: 2) to prove to them from their own scriptures, that God loves little children, and delights to have them engage in his service, and sing his praises. And there was one other occasion on which Jesus spoke about the children, and showed his interest in them. This was after his resurrection. We read about it in St. John xxi: 15-18. He met his disciples, one day, on the shore of the sea of Galilee. Peter, who had shamefully denied his Master on the night in which he was betrayed was present with them. Jesus said to him, as if to remind him of his great sin, "Simon, son of Jonas, lovest thou me?" "Yea, Lord, thou knowest that I love thee," said the penitent disciple. "Feed my lambs," was his Master's reply. Here again, how beautifully Jesus showed his great love for the little ones of his flock! From these different passages, we see clearly how dear little children are to the heart of our blessed Saviour! He is the only great Teacher who ever showed such an interest in children. And the religion of Jesus is the only religion which teaches its followers to love and care for the little ones. The worshipers of the idol Moloch, mentioned in the Bible, used to offer their children as burnt-sacrifices to their cruel god. Mahometans look upon their women and children as inferior beings. The Hindoos neglect their infants, and leave them exposed on the banks of the Ganges, or throw them into the river to be devoured by the hungry crocodiles. In the city of Pekin many infants are thrown out into the streets every night. Sometimes they are killed by the fall. Sometimes they are only half killed, and linger, moaning in their agony, till the morning. Then the police go around, and pick them up, and throw them all together into a hole and bury them. In Africa, the children are sometimes buried alive; and sometimes left out in the fields or forests for the wild beasts to devour them. In the South Sea Islands three-fourths of all the children born used to be killed. Sometimes they would strangle their babies. Sometimes they would leave them, where oxen and cattle would tread on them, and trample them to death; while, at other times, they would break all their joints, beginning with their fingers and toes, and then go on to their wrists, and elbows, and shoulders. How dreadful it is to think of such practices! And when we turn from these scenes of heart-rending cruelty and think of the gracious Saviour,--the "gentle Jesus, meek and mild," stretching forth his arms in loving tenderness, and uttering the sweet words,--"Suffer the little children to come unto me, and forbid them not; for of such is the kingdom of God,"--what a wonderful contrast it makes! And when we think of all that Jesus did and said to show his interest in children, we may well ask ourselves such questions as these,--Why was it so? What did he do it for? And when we come to look carefully into this part of the life of Christ, we can see four great things in it; and these are the reasons why Jesus did and said so much about children. _In the first place we see_--GREAT LOVE--_in the interest Christ manifested towards the young_. It was the same love which brought him down from heaven, and made him willing to become a little child himself; the same love which made him willing to live in poverty--and suffer the dreadful death upon the cross that led him to show such interest in the little ones. But if he had not told us himself how he feels on this subject, we could not have been sure of it. Children might well have said, when they heard about the love of Christ, "Yes, we have no doubt that Jesus does love grown up people, men and women in general. We believe this because the Bible tells us so; but how do we know that he loves us children?" If he had not told us so himself, we could not have been sure of it. But we know it now. And when we hear, or read of the love of Christ, we may be sure that it takes the children in. During a famine in Germany, a family became so poor that they were in danger of starving. The father proposed that one of the children should be sold, and food provided for those that remained. At last the mother consented; but then the question arose which one of the four should be selected. The eldest, their first-born, could not be spared; the second looked like the mother, the third was like his father, and they could not give either of them up; and then the youngest--why, he was their pet, their darling, how could they give _him_ up? So they concluded that they would all perish together, rather than part with one of their little ones. When those children knew of this, they might very well feel sure that their parents loved them. But Jesus did more than this for us, he was willing to die upon the cross, and he did so die, that "not one of his little ones should perish." "Being Loved Back Again." Little Alice Lee sat in her rocking chair. She was clasping a beautiful wax doll to her bosom, and singing sweet lullabies to it. But every little while she looked wistfully at her mother. She was busy writing, and had told Alice to keep as quiet as possible till she got through. It seemed a long time to Alice; but after awhile her mother laid down her pen, and pushed aside her papers, and said:--"Now I am through for to-day, Alice, and you can make as much noise as you please." In a moment Alice laid down her doll, and running to her mother, threw her arms round her neck, and nestled sweetly in her loving bosom. "I'm so glad," said Alice, "I wanted to love you so much, mamma." "Did you, darling?" and the mother clasped the little one tenderly in her arms. "I am very glad that my little girl loves me;" replied her mother, "but I thought you were not very lonely while I was writing; you and dollie seemed to be having a good time together." "Yes, we had, mamma; but I always get tired of loving dollie after awhile." "Do you, dear? Tell me why?" "O, because she never loves me back again." "And is _that_ why you love me?" "That is _one why_, mamma; but not the first one, or the best one." "And what is the first, and best?" "Why, mamma, can't you guess?" and the little girl's blue eyes grew very bright, as they gazed earnestly into her mother's face. "It's because you loved me when I was too little to love you back; _that's_ why I love you so." And what a reason this is why we should love Jesus! He loved us when we were too little to love him back. The Bible says--"We love him because _he first_ loved us." He loved us before we knew him, or had ever heard of him. He loved us before we were born. Before the world was made Jesus thought of you and me, and loved us. This is what he means when he says:--"I _have loved thee with an everlasting love."_ Jer. xxxi: 3. This means a love that never had a beginning, and that will never have an end. This is very wonderful. And when we think of it, we may well sing out our thankfulness in the words of the hymn: "I am glad that our Father in heaven Tells of his love in the Book he has given; Wonderful things in the Bible I see; This is the sweetest, that Jesus loves me. I am so glad that Jesus loves me, Jesus loves--_even me_" And when we think of all the kind words and actions of Jesus, by which he showed his interest in little children, the first thing that we see in them is--great love. _Now, let us take another look at this part of our Saviour's life, and the second thing that we see in it is_--GREAT WISDOM. It is wise to take care of the children and try to bring them to Jesus when young, _because then they are easily controlled_. Suppose we plant an acorn in a corner of our garden. After awhile a green shoot springs out from it. We go to look at it when it is about a foot high. We find it getting crooked; but with the gentlest touch of thumb and finger, we can straighten it out. We wish it to lean in a particular direction. We give it a slight touch, and it leans just that way. Afterwards we conclude to have it lean in the opposite direction. Another slight touch, and it takes that direction. It is true, as the poet says, "Just as the twig is bent, the tree's inclined." But, suppose we let it grow for twenty or thirty years, and then come back to it. It is now a great oak tree. There is an ugly twist in its trunk. We try to straighten it out; but in vain. No power on earth can do that now. You can cut it down; or saw it up; or break it into splinters; but you cannot straighten it. Suppose, that you and I should go to one of the highest summits of the Rocky Mountains. In a certain place there, we should find two little fountains springing up near each other. With the end of a finger we might trace the course in which either of those little springs should flow. We could lead one down the eastern side of the mountains, and the other down the western side. It would be very easy to control them then. But suppose now we travel down the side of the mountain till we reach the plain, at its base. Now see, yonder is a great river, rolling on its mighty flood of waters. That is what the little spring has grown to. It is too late to control it now. The time for controlling it was up yonder near the spring. It is easy to control the spring; it is very hard to control the river. Jesus wished to control the spring when he directed us to bring the children to him. And in this he showed his wisdom. It is wise to take an interest in children, and bring them early to Jesus--_because they have great influence in the world_. Who can tell the influence that children are exerting in the world? We have an illustration of this in the words that were once spoken by Themistocles, the celebrated Grecian governor and general. He had a little boy, of whom his mother was very fond and over whom the child had very great influence. His father pointed to him, one day, and said to a friend, "Look at that child; he has more power than all Greece. For the city of Athens rules Greece; I rule Athens; that child's mother rules me, and he rules his mother." I feel sure our Saviour must have felt very much as some one has done, who writes in this way about THE GOOD THAT CHILDREN DO. "A dreary place would be this earth Were there no little people in it; The song of life would lose its mirth Were there no children to begin it; "No little forms, like buds to grow, And make the admiring heart surrender; No little hands, on breast and brow, To keep the thrilling love-chords tender. "No babe within our arms to leap, No little feet towards slumber tending; No little knee in prayer to bend, Our loving lips the sweet words lending. "Life's song indeed would lose its charm, Were there no babies to begin it; A doleful place this world would be, Were there no little people in it." And if children have so great an influence in the world it was wise in Jesus to desire to have them brought early to him that they might learn to use that influence in the best possible way. And then it was wise in Jesus to desire this, again, _because bringing children to him prevents great trouble, and secures great blessing_. We are all familiar with Dr. Watts' sweet hymn, which says: "'Twill save us from a thousand snares To mind religion young." Here is a striking illustration of this truth in the history of: "One Neglected Child." A good many years ago, in one of the upper counties of New York, there was a little girl named Margaret. She was not brought to Christ, but was turned out on the world to do as she pleased. She grew up to be perhaps the wickedest woman in that part of the country. She had a large family of children, who became about as wicked as herself; her descendants have been a plague and a curse to that county ever since. The records of that county show that two hundred of her descendants have been criminals. In a single generation of her descendants there were twenty children. Three of these died in infancy. Of the remaining seventeen, who lived to grow up, nine were sent to the state prison for great crimes; while all the others were found, from time to time, in the jails, the penitentiaries, or the almshouses. Nearly all the descendants of this woman were idiots, or drunkards, or paupers, or bad people, of the very worst character. That one neglected child thus cost the county in which she lived hundreds of thousands of dollars, besides the untold evil that followed from the bad examples of her descendants. How different the result would have been if this poor child had been brought to Jesus and made a Christian when she was young! "The Result of Early Choice." Here is a short story of two boys, of the choice they made when young, and the different results that followed from that choice. A minister of the gospel was preaching on one occasion to the convicts in the state prison of Connecticut. As he rose in the desk and looked around on the congregation, he saw a man there whose face seemed familiar to him. When the service was over he went to this man's cell, to have some conversation with him. "I remember you very well, sir," said the prisoner. "We were boys in the same neighborhood; we went to the same school; sat beside each other on the same bench, and then my prospects were as bright as yours. But, at the age of fourteen, you made choice of the service of God, and became a Christian. I refused to come to Christ, but made choice of the world and sin. And now, you are a happy and honored minister of the gospel, while I am a wretched outcast. I have served ten years in this penitentiary and am to be a prisoner here for life." Jesus knew what blessings would follow to those who were early brought to him, and we see that there was great wisdom in the words that he spake when he said--"Suffer the little children to come unto me." _In the next place there was_--GREAT ENCOURAGEMENT--_in what Jesus did and said about children_. If a company of boys or girls should try to get into the presence of a monarch, some great king, or emperor, they would find it a pretty hard thing to do. At the door of the palace they would meet with soldiers or servants, the guards of the queen or king. They would say to the children--"what do you want here?" And if the children should say, "Please sir, we wish to go into the palace and see the queen," the answer would be: "Go away; go away. The queen is too busy. She has no time to attend to little folks like you." And the children would have to go away without getting to see the queen. But, Jesus is a greater king than any who ever sat upon an earthly throne. He has more to do than all the kings and queens in the world put together. And yet he never gave orders to the angels, or to any of his servants to keep the children away from him. On his great throne in yonder heavens he says still, what he said when he was on earth--"Suffer the little children to come unto me, and forbid them not." And he says this on purpose to encourage the children to come to him. And the thought that Jesus loves them and feels an interest in them has encouraged multitudes of little ones to seek him and serve him. Here are some illustrations of this: "Learning to Love Jesus." "A little girl came to me one day," said a minister of the gospel, and said, "'Please sir, may I speak to you a minute?' I saw that she was in some trouble; so I took her kindly by the hand, and said, 'Certainly, my child. What do you wish to say?' "'Please, sir,' said she, as her lip quivered and tears filled her eyes, 'it's a dreadful thing; but I don't love Jesus.' "'And are you not going to love him?' I asked. "'I don't know; but please sir, I want you to tell me how.' She spoke sadly, as if it was something she never could do. "'Well,' I said, 'St. John, who loved our Lord almost more than any one else ever did, says that "we love him because he first loved us." Now if you go home to-night, saying in your heart, "_Jesus loves me_," I think that to-morrow you will be able to say--"I love Jesus."' "She looked up through her tears, and repeated the words very softly, 'Jesus loves me.' She began to think about it on her way home, as well as to say it. She thought about his life, about his death on the cross, and about his sweet words to the little ones, and she began to feel it too. "The next evening she came to see me again; and, putting both her hands in mine, with a bright happy face, she said: "'Oh! please sir, I love Jesus now; for I know he does love me so!'" Here was a little one encouraged to come to Jesus by thinking of the interest he feels in children. "Doesn't He Love to Save?" A mother had just tucked her little boy in bed, and had received his good-night kisses. She lingered awhile, at his bedside, to speak to him about Jesus, and to see if he was feeling right toward him. He was a good, obedient boy, but that day he had done something that grieved his mother. He had expressed his sorrow for it, and asked his mother's forgiveness. As she stooped down for the last kiss, he said--"Is it all settled, mother?" "Yes, my child," she said, "it's all settled with me; but have you settled it all with Jesus?" "Yes, mother: I've asked him to forgive me: and I believe him when he says he will; for _doesn't he love to help and save children_?" "He does, my child, he does," said his mother, as she gazed on his happy little face, lighted up with the joy of that gospel, so often hidden from the wise and prudent, but revealed to babes. Here we see how this little fellow was encouraged to seek Jesus from the assurance that he feels an interest in children, and loves to help and bless them. "Love Leads to Love." A little boy named Charley stood at the window with his mother one morning, watching the robins as they enjoyed their morning meal of cherries from the tree near their house. "Mother," said Charley, "How the birdies all love father." "They do," said his mother, "but what do you suppose is the reason that the birdies love your father?" This question seemed to set Charley to thinking. He did not answer at first, but presently he said, "Why mother all the creatures seem to love father. My dog is almost as glad to see him as to see me. Pussy, you know, always comes to him, and seems to know exactly what he is saying. Even the old cow follows him around the meadow, and the other day I saw her licking his hand, just as a dog would. I think it must be because father loves them. You know he will often get up and give pussy something to eat; and he pulls carrots for the cow, and pats her; and somehow I think his voice never sounds so sweet as when he is talking to these dumb creatures." "I think his voice is very pleasant when he is talking to his little boy," said his mother. Charley smiled, and said, "That's so, mother. Father loves me, and I love him dearly. But he loves the birdies too I am sure. He whistles to them every morning when they are eating their cherries, and they don't seem a bit afraid of him, although he is near enough to catch them. Mother I wish everything loved me as they do father." "Do as father does, Charley, and they will. Love all things and be kind to them. Don't kick the dog, or speak roughly to him. Don't pull pussy's tail, nor chase the hens, nor try to frighten the cow. Never throw stones at the birds. Never hurt nor tease anything. Speak gently and lovingly to them and they will love you, and everybody that knows you will love you too." Now Charley's father, in acting as he did, was trying to make all the dumb creatures about him know that he was their friend; that he loved them, and had nothing but kindness in his heart towards them. In this way he encouraged them to come to him, and not be afraid of him. And this is just the way in which Jesus was acting when he did and said so much to show his interest in children. He wants them all to understand that he is their friend; that he loves them, and wants them to come to him and love and serve him. And so every child who hears or reads about Jesus may feel encouraged to say: "Once in his arms the Saviour took Young children just like me, And blessed them with his voice and look As kind as kind could be. "And though to heaven the Lord hath gone, And seems so far away, He hath a smile for every one That doth his voice obey. "I'd rather be the least of them That he will bless and own, Than wear a royal diadem, And sit upon a throne." And so we may well say that in what Jesus did and said about the children there is great encouragement. _And then there are_--GREAT LESSONS--_too, in this part of the life of Christ_. There are two lessons taught us here. One is about _the work we are to do for Jesus here on earth_. When Jesus said to Peter, "Lovest thou me? Feed my lambs," he meant to teach him, and you, and me, and all his people everywhere, the best way in which we can show our love to him. The lambs of Christ here spoken of mean little children, wherever they are found. And to feed these lambs is to teach them about Jesus. When we are trying to bring the young to Jesus and teaching them to love and serve him, then we are doing the work that is most pleasing to him:--the work that he most loves to have his people do. It was thinking about this that first led me to begin the work of preaching regularly to the young. And this is the lesson that Jesus would have all his people learn when he says to each of them:--"Lovest thou me? Feed my lambs." "The Angel in the Stone." Many years ago there was a celebrated artist who lived in Italy, whose name was Michael Angelo. He was a great painter, and a great sculptor, or a worker in marble. He loved to see beautiful figures chiseled out of marble, and he had great power and skill in chiseling out such figures. One day, as he was walking with some friends through the city of Florence, he saw a block of marble lying neglected in a yard, half covered with dust and rubbish. He stopped to examine that block of marble. That day happened to be a great holiday in Florence and the artist had his best suit of clothes on; but not caring for this he threw off his coat, and went to work to clear away the rubbish from that marble. His friends were surprised. They said to him:--"Come on, let's go; what's the use of wasting your time on that good-for-nothing lump of stone?" "O, there's an angel in this stone," said he, "and I must get it out." He bought that block; had it removed to his studio, and then went to work with his mallet and his chisel, and never rested till out of that rough, unshapen mass of stone he made a beautiful marble angel. Now, every child born into our world is like such a block of marble. The only difference is that children are living stones--marble that will last forever. And when we bring our children to Jesus, and by his help teach them to love and serve him, we are doing for them just what Michael Angelo was doing for his block of marble--we are getting the angels out of the stones. And this is what Jesus loves to have us do. "How to Get the Angels Out." A Christian mother, whose children had all been early taught to love and serve Jesus, was asked the secret of her success in bringing up her children. This was her answer:--"While my children were infants on my lap, as I washed them day by day, I raised my heart to God that he would wash them in that blood which cleanseth from all sin; as I clothed them in the morning, I asked my heavenly Father to clothe them with the robe of Christ's righteousness; as I provided them food I prayed that God would feed their souls with the bread of heaven, and give them to drink of the water of life. When I prepared them for the house of God I pleaded that their bodies might be made fit temples for the Holy Ghost to dwell in. When they left me daily for the week-day school, I followed their youthful footsteps with the prayer that their path through life might be like that of the just, which shineth more and more unto the perfect day. And night after night, as I committed them to rest, the silent breathing of my soul has been, that their heavenly Father would take them under his tender care and fold them in his loving, everlasting arms." Let Christian mothers follow this example and they will not fail to bring the angel out from every block of living marble that God has given them. "The Best Time for Doing This." A faithful minister of Christ had a dear only daughter. She had been a thoughtful praying child. When only twelve years old she had joined her father's church. She now lay on her dying bed. "As I sat by her bedside," says her father, "among the things she said which I shall never forget were these:--'Father you know I joined the church when I was young--very young. Some of our friends thought that I was too young. But, oh! how I wish I could tell everybody what a comfort it is to me now to think of it.' Then reaching out her hand--the fingers were already cold--and grasping mine, she said with great earnestness:--'Father, you are at work for the young. Do all you can for them while they are young. It's the best time--the best time. Oh! I see it now as I never did before. It is the best time--while they are young--the younger the better. Do all you can for them while they are very young.' And then she fell asleep in Jesus." This is the lesson about the work we are to do for him on earth, that Jesus taught in what he said concerning the children. But when we think of those sweet words of Jesus--"Of such is the kingdom of heaven," we are _taught a lesson about the company we shall meet there_. We learn from what our blessed Lord says on this subject that he saves all the little ones who die before they are accountable for their actions. And we know that of all the persons born into our world more than half of them die before they reach this age. And this makes it very certain that more than half the company of heaven will be made up of little children. This is a very sweet thought to those who have lost little ones; and to those who love them. And some people think that when young children die and go to heaven, they will not grow up to be men and women, but will always remain children. The Rev. Mr. Bickersteth, of England, in speaking of a father meeting his little ones in heaven, who died years before he did, represents him as meeting them there, just of the same age and size as they were when they died. And then he expresses his own thought on this subject in a single line: "A babe in glory, is a babe forever." But God has not said anything on this subject in the Bible. And when he himself has not spoken on such a point as this, it is impossible for us to say certainly which way it will be. But when we get to heaven and find just how it is, we shall all agree that God's way is the best way. And then Jesus shows us plainly _what our character must be if we hope to go to heaven and join the happy company there_. These are the words he spake on this subject; "Verily I say unto you, whosoever shall not receive the kingdom of God as a little child, he shall not enter therein." Mark x: 15. Jesus refers here to some of the best things that we find marking the character of a good child. Such a child is gentle, and loving, and kind; and this must be our character, if we hope to enter heaven. Such a child is willing to be taught:--believes all that his parent or teacher tells him; and does everything that he is told to do; and such must our character be if we hope to enter heaven. And so when we come to study out this part of our Saviour's life, and think of all that he did and said to show his interest in children, we see these four great things in it: viz., great love; great wisdom; great encouragement; and great lessons. I know not how to express in a better way the feelings which should be in the heart of everyone, young or old, on thinking of this great subject, than in the words of one who has thus sweetly written: "Lamb of God! I look to Thee, Thou shalt my example be; Thou art gentle, meek and mild; Thou wast once a little child. "Fain I would be as Thou art, Give me thy obedient heart: Thou art pitiful, and kind; Let me have thy loving mind. "Let me above all fulfill God my heavenly Father's will; Never his good Spirit grieve, Only to his glory live. "Loving Jesus, gentle Lamb! In thy gracious hands I am; Make me, Saviour, what Thou art; Live thyself within my heart. "I shall then show forth thy praise; Serve thee all my happy days; Then the world shall always see Christ, the Holy Child in me." THE TRANSFIGURATION This was one of the most surprising scenes in the life of our blessed Lord. It forms a great contrast to the other events mentioned in his history. He "came to visit us in great humility." When we read how he was born in a stable, and cradled in a manger; how he had "not where to lay his head;" when we read of the lowliness, and poverty, and suffering that marked his course, day by day, we come naturally to think of him as "the man of sorrows and acquainted with grief." And though, when we remember how he healed the sick, and cast out devils, and raised the dead to life again; how he walked upon the waters, and controlled the stormy winds and waves with his simple word, he seems wonderful in his power and majesty; yet there is nothing, in all his earthly life, that leads us to think so highly of him, as this scene of the Transfiguration, of which we are now to speak. The account of this event is given us by three of the evangelists. We find it described by St. Matt, xvii: 1-13. St. Mark ix: 2-13. St. Luke ix: 28-29. A short time before this took place, Jesus had told his disciples how he was to go up to Jerusalem, to suffer many things, to be put to death, be buried, and be raised again on the third day. St. Matt, xvi: 21. He also told them of the self-denial, which all who became his disciples would be required to exercise. This was very different from what they were expecting and must have been very discouraging to them. They did not yet understand that their Master had come into the world to suffer and to die. Instead of this, their minds were filled with the idea that the object of his coming was to establish an earthly kingdom and to reign in glory. And, for themselves, they were expecting that they would share his glory and reign as princes with him. And so they must have been greatly troubled by his words. To encourage and comfort them, therefore, he told them that, before they died, some of them should "see the Son of Man coming in his kingdom." And then, some days after this, he took three of his disciples, the favored John and James and Peter, and went up with them "into a mountain, apart by themselves, and was transfigured before them." We are not told what mountain it was that was thus honored. Mount Tabor, near Nazareth, on the borders of the Plain of Esdraelon, has long been regarded as the favored spot. But, in our day, many persons think that it was not on the top of Tabor, but on one of the summits of Mount Hermon, where this wonderful event took place. One of the principal objections to supposing that Tabor was the place is, that in those days there was a large fortress on the top of this mountain, and this, they think, would interfere with the privacy that would be desired on such an occasion. But, for myself, I still incline to think that Tabor was the mountain chosen. I went to the top of this mountain, when in Palestine. And though there is a large convent there now, yet the summit of Tabor covers a wide space of ground. And outside of the walls of the convent, and even out of sight of its walls, I saw a number of retired, shady places that would be particularly suitable for such a scene as this. But, it is impossible to decide positively which was the Mount of Transfiguration. And it is not a matter of much consequence. Those who think it was Hermon are at liberty to think so; and those who think it was Tabor, have a right to their opinion, for none can prove that they are mistaken in thinking so. And when we come to consider this great event in the life of our Saviour, there are _two_ things to speak of in connection with it; these are the _wonders_ we see in it; and the _lessons_ we may learn from it. Or, to express it more briefly--The Transfiguration--its wonders, and its lessons. There are three wonders to be spoken of, and three lessons to be learned from this subject. _The first wonder is_--THE WONDERFUL CHANGE--that took place in the appearance of our Lord on this occasion. Jesus went up the mountain with his disciples. It was probably at the close of one of his busy days that he did this. It would seem from St. Luke's account,--chap. ix: 32--that Peter and his companions were weary with the day's work, and soon fell asleep. But, while they were sleeping, Jesus was praying. And it was while he was engaged in prayer that the Transfiguration took place. St. Luke tells us it was--"_as he prayed_." Let us notice now, what the different evangelists tell us about this change. St. Matthew says--"He was transfigured before them: and his face did shine as the sun, and his raiment was white as the light." St. Mark says, "His raiment became exceeding white as snow, so as no fuller"--one who cleans, or whitens cloth--"on earth can white them." St. Luke says--"As he prayed, the fashion of his countenance was altered, and his raiment was white and glistening." These are the different accounts we have of this surprising scene. If the disciples had been awake when this marvellous change began to take place, we cannot for a moment suppose that they would have gone to sleep while the heavens must have seemed to be opening above them and this blaze of glory was shining around them. They were, no doubt, asleep when the transfiguration began. And, as we know that the taking of an ordinary light into the room where persons are asleep will often awaken them, it is not surprising that the disciples should have been aroused from their slumber by the flood of light and glory that was beaming round their Master then. How surprised they must have been when they opened their eyes on that scene! They would never forget it as long as they lived. It was more than half a century after this when St. John wrote his gospel; and it was, no doubt, to this scene that he referred when he said, in speaking of Jesus;--"_we beheld his glory, the glory as of the only begotten of the Father_" St. John i: 14. And, not long before his death, St. Peter thus refers to it:--"We were eyewitnesses of his majesty. For he received from God the Father, honor and glory, when there came such a voice from the excellent glory, saying, This is my beloved Son in whom I am well pleased." II. Pet. i: 16, 17. One object for which this wonderful transfiguration of our Lord took place was, no doubt, to give to the disciples then, and to the followers of Jesus in all coming time, an idea of what his glory now is in heaven, and of what it will be when he shall come again in his kingdom. He had told his disciples about his sufferings and death, and the shame and dishonor connected with them; and here, as if to counterbalance that, he wished to give them a glimpse of the glory that is to shine around him forever. How wonderful it must have seemed to the astonished disciples! When they had last looked on their Master, before going to sleep, they had seen him as "the man of sorrows," in his plain everyday dress, such as they themselves wore: but, when they looked on him again, as they awoke from their sleep, they saw his face shining as the sun, and his raiment dazzling in its snowy whiteness. To what may we compare this wonderful change? Suppose you have before you the bulbous root of the lily plant. You look at it carefully, but there is nothing attractive about it. How rough and unsightly it appears! You close your eyes upon it for a brief space. You open them again. But what a change has taken place! That plain-homely looking bulb has disappeared, and in its place there stands before you the lily plant. It has reached its mature growth. Its flower is fully developed and blooming in all its matchless beauty! What a marvellous change that would be! And yet it would be but a feeble illustration of the more wonderful change that took place in our Saviour at his transfiguration. Here is another illustration. Suppose we are looking at the western sky, towards the close of day. Great masses of dark clouds are covering all that part of the heavens. They are but common clouds. There is nothing attractive or interesting about them. We do not care to take a second look at them. We turn from them for a little while, and then look at them again. In the meantime, the setting sun has thrown his glorious beams upon them. How changed they now appear! All that was commonplace and unattractive about them is gone. How they glow and sparkle! Gold, and purple, and all the colors of the rainbow are blending, how beautifully there! Are these the same dull clouds that we looked upon a few moments before? Yes; but they have been transfigured. A wonderful change has come over them. And here we have an illustration of our Lord's transfiguration. The first wonder about this incident in his life is the wonderful change which took place in his appearance then. _The second wonder about the transfiguration is_--THE WONDERFUL COMPANY--_that appeared with our Saviour then_. At the close of his temptation in the wilderness, Jesus had some wonderful company too, but it was different from what he had now. _Then_, we are told that "_angels came, and ministered unto him_." And in the garden of Gethsemane, when he was sinking to the earth, overcome by the terrible agony through which he was passing, he had more company of the same kind; for we read that--"_there appeared unto him an angel from heaven strengthening him."_ St. Luke xxii: 43. But it was not the company of angels that waited on him at the time of his Transfiguration. No: but we read that, "there appeared unto him Moses, and Elias," or Elijah. And if we ask why did not the angels come to him now, as they did on other occasions? Why did these distinguished persons, of the Old Testament history, come from heaven to visit him in place of the angels? It is easy enough to answer these questions. This transfiguration of Christ took place, as he himself tells us, in order to give his disciples a view of the glory that will attend him when he shall come in his kingdom. When he shall appear, on that occasion, all his people will come with him. Those who shall have died before he comes will be raised from the dead and come with him, in their glorious resurrection bodies. And those who shall be living when he comes will, as St. Paul tells us,--"_be changed in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye_"--I. Cor. xv: 52, 53--and have beautiful, glorified bodies, like the bodies of those who have been raised from the dead. And both these classes of Christ's people were represented by the distinguished persons who formed the company that appeared with Jesus at the Transfiguration. Moses had been in heaven nearly fifteen hundred years when this scene took place. He had died, as other men do, and had been buried. It is supposed by many wise and good men that his body had been raised from the dead, that he might appear in it on this occasion. And thus Moses represented all the dead in Christ, who will be raised to life again at his coming. Elijah had been in heaven for almost a thousand years. He had never died, and never lain in the grave. He was translated. This means that he was taken up to heaven without dying. But St. Paul tells us that bodies of flesh and blood, like ours, cannot enter heaven. I. Cor. xv: 50. They must be changed, and made fit for that blessed place. And so, we know, that as Elijah went up to heaven, in his chariot of fire, the same wonderful change must have passed over his body which we have seen will take place with those of Christ's people who shall be living on the earth when he comes again. Jesus was transfigured that we might know how he himself will appear when he comes in his kingdom. And Moses and Elias "appeared with him in glory," to show us how the people of Christ will appear when they enter with him into his kingdom. And this was a good reason why these very persons, and not the angels, should have formed the company that came to visit our Saviour on the Mount of Transfiguration. It was wonderful company indeed that waited on Jesus then. But, it was a wonderful occasion. None like it had ever occurred before; none like it has ever occurred since; and none like it will ever occur again till Jesus shall come in the glory of his heavenly kingdom. The second wonder of the Transfiguration was the wonderful company. _The third wonder connected with this great event was_--THE WONDERFUL CONVERSATION--_that took place between Jesus and his visitors_. All the three evangelists, who tell of the Transfiguration, speak of this conversation. St. Matthew and St. Mark merely state the fact that Moses and Elias "were talking with Jesus;" but they do not tell us the subject of the conversation, or what it was about which they talked. But St. Luke supplies what they leave out. He says, "_they spake of his decease, which he should accomplish at Jerusalem_" This means that they talked about the death upon the cross which he was to suffer. And when we remember that these great and good men had just come down from heaven, where God, the loving Father of Jesus dwells, and where all the holy angels are; and that this was the only time when they were to be present with Jesus, and have an opportunity of talking with him, during all his life on earth, we may wonder why they did not choose some more pleasant subject of conversation. And yet they did not make a mistake. God the Father had sent them from heaven to meet his beloved Son on this occasion. And, no doubt, he had told them what subject they were to talk about, and what they were to say to Jesus, on that subject. And then they knew very well how Jesus felt about this matter. And painful as the death upon the cross would be, they knew it was the nearest of all things to the heart of Jesus. It was the will of his Father that he should die on the cross, and it was the delight of his heart--the very joy of his soul to do his Father's will. And here we learn the unspeakable importance of the death of Christ. The apostle Paul was showing his sense of its importance when he said, "God forbid that I should glory, save in the cross of our Lord Jesus." Gal. vi: 14. He puts the word "_cross_" of Christ, for the death of Christ, but it means the same thing. Some one has compared the cross of Christ to a key of gold, that opens the gate of heaven to us, if we believe in Jesus; but if we refuse to hear and obey the words of Jesus, it becomes a key of iron, and opens the gate of destruction before us. "The Power of the Cross." A heathen ruler had heard the story of the cross and desired to know its power. When he was sick and near his end, he told his servants to make him a large wooden cross, and lay it down in his chamber. When this was done, he said--"Take me now and lay me on the cross, and let me die there." As he lay there dying he looked in faith to the blood of Christ, that was shed upon the cross, and said--_"It lifts me up: it lifts me. Jesus saves me!_" and thus he died. It was not that wooden cross that saved him; but the death of Christ, on the cross to which he was nailed--the death of which Moses and Elias talked with him, that saved this heathen man. They knew what a blessing his death would be to the world, and _this_ was why they talked about this death. Here is one of Bonar's beautiful hymns which speaks sweetly of the blessedness and comfort to be found in the cross of Christ. "Oppressed with noonday's scorching heat, To this dear cross I flee; And in its shelter take my seat; No _shade_ like this to me! "Beneath this cross clear waters burst; A fountain sparkling free; And here I quench my desert thirst, No _spring_ like this to me. "A stranger here, I pitch my tent Beneath this spreading tree; Here shall my pilgrim life be spent, No _home_ like this to me! "For burdened ones a resting place Beside this cross I see; Here, I cast off my weariness; No _rest_ like this for me!" Moses and Elias understood how the blessing of the world was to flow out from that death upon the cross which Jesus was to suffer; and so, we need not wonder that during the short visit which they made to Jesus, amidst the glory of his Transfiguration, the subject, above all others, about which they desired to talk with him--was his death upon the cross,--"his decease, which he should accomplish at Jerusalem." These are the three great wonders of the Transfiguration--the wonderful change--the wonderful company--and the wonderful conversation. And this brings us to the second part of our subject, which is--_the three lessons_ taught by the Transfiguration. _The first of these is_--THE LESSON OF HOPE. One thing for which the Transfiguration took place was to show us what we may hope to be hereafter, if we are the servants of Christ. We are told how Jesus appeared on this occasion. His glory is described. The brightness and glory that shone around him exceeded that of the noonday sun. But there is no particular description given Moses and Elias. We are not told how they looked. It is only said of them that--"they appeared in _glory_." St Luke ix: 31. I suppose the meaning of this is that they shared in the glory which Jesus himself had when he was transfigured. Their raiment was as white as his; and the same brightness and beauty beamed forth from their faces which made his so glorious. They shared their Master's glory. And, if we are loving, and serving Jesus, this is what we may hope to share with him hereafter. This is what we are taught to pray for in the beautiful Collect for the sixth Sunday after the Epiphany. These are the words of that prayer: "O God, whose blessed Son was manifested that he might make us the sons of God, and heirs of eternal life; Grant us, we beseech thee, that having this hope, we may purify ourselves, even as he is pure; that when he shall appear again, with power and great glory, _we may be made like unto him in his eternal and glorious kingdom;_ where, with thee, O Father, and thee, O Holy Ghost, he liveth and reigneth, ever One God, world without end. Amen." And it is right to offer such a prayer as this, because the Bible teaches us to hope for this great glory. How well a hope like this may be called "_a hope that maketh not ashamed_," Rom. v: 5; "_a good hope through grace_," II. Thess. ii: 16; "that _blessed hope_," Tit. ii: 13; "_a lively hope_," I. Peter i: 3. And how well it may be spoken of as "_a helmet_"--to cover the head in the day of battle; and as "an anchor" to keep the soul calm and steadfast when the storms of life are bursting upon it! Moses and Elias appeared with Jesus at his Transfiguration, and shared his glory on purpose to teach us this lesson of hope, and to show us what we shall be hereafter. We shall be as glorious as Jesus was on the Mount of Transfiguration! This seems something too great and too good to be true. But no matter how great, or how good it is--_it is true_. Jesus taught this lesson of hope when he said--speaking of the time when he shall come in his kingdom, "_Then shall the righteous shine forth as the sun in the kingdom of their Father_," St. Matt, xiii: 43. He taught us the same lesson, in his prayer to his Father, when he said, speaking of all his people, "_And the glory which thou gavest me, I have given them_," St. John xvii: 21. And the apostle John taught us the same lesson, when he said,--"We know that when he shall appear _we shall be like him_," I. John iii: 2. These sweet passages make this lesson of hope very sure. And this is just the way in which we are made sure about other things we have not seen. "How we Know There is a Heaven." A Sunday-school teacher was talking to one of her scholars about heaven and the glory we shall have when we reach that blessed place. He was a bright boy, about nine or ten years old, named Charlie. After listening to her for awhile, he said: "But you have never been there, Miss D., and how do you know there really is any such place?" "Charlie," said the teacher, "you have never been to London; how do you know there is such a city?" "O, I know that very well," said Charlie, "because my father is there; and he has sent me a letter, telling me all about it." "And God, my Father, is in the heavenly city," said Miss D., "and he has sent me a letter, telling me about the glory of heaven, and about the way to get there. The Bible is God's letter." "Yes, I see," said Charlie, after thinking awhile, "there must be a heaven, if you have got such a nice long letter from there." The lesson of hope is the first lesson taught us by the Transfiguration. _The next lesson taught us here is_--THE LESSON OF INSTRUCTION. The great event of the Transfiguration took place in our Saviour's life for _this_ reason, among others, that we might learn from it _how we are to think of Christ_. While the disciples were gazing on the glory of that scene, and on the distinguished visitors who were there, there came a cloud and overshadowed them. This cloud, we may suppose, was like a curtain round Moses and Elias, hiding them from the view of the disciples. And, as Jesus in his glory was left alone for them to gaze upon, there came a voice from the overshadowing cloud, saying--"_This is my beloved Son; in whom I am well pleased_." This was the voice of God, the Father. It spoke out on this occasion to teach the disciples then, and you and me now, and all God's people in every age, what to think about Christ. God, the Father, tells us here what he thinks about him; and we must learn to think of him in the same way. His will, his command is that "_all men should honor the Son, even as they honor the Father_," St. John v: 3. Moses and Elias were great men in their day. They appeared on this occasion to add to the honor of Christ. And then they disappeared, as if to show that they were nothing in comparison with him. He is the greatest and the best of all beings. He must be first. Prophets and priests, and kings, and angels even, are as nothing to him. We must love him--and honor him above all others. The words of the hymn we so often sing, show us how God would have us think and feel towards him: "All hail the power of Jesus' name Let angels prostrate fall; Bring forth the royal diadem, And crown him Lord of all. "Let every kindred, every tribe, On this terrestrial ball, To him all majesty ascribe, And crown him Lord of all." "How Christ Should be Honored." There is a story told of the Emperor Theodosius the Great which illustrates very well how we should honor Christ. There were at that time two great parties in the church. One of these believed and taught the divinity of Christ--or that he is equal to God the Father. The other party, called Arians, believed and taught that Christ was not divine; and that he was not to be honored and worshiped as God. The Emperor Theodosius favored this latter party. When his son, Arcadius, was about sixteen years old, his father determined to make him a sharer of his throne, and passed a law that his son should receive the same respect and honor that were due to himself. And, in connection with this event, an incident occurred which led the emperor to see how wrong the view was which he held respecting the character of Christ, and to give it up. When Arcadius was proclaimed the partner of his father in the empire, the officers of the government, and other prominent persons, called on the emperor in his palace, to congratulate him on the occasion, and to pay their respects to his son. Among those who thus came, was a celebrated bishop of the church. He was very decided in the views he held about the real divinity of Christ, and very much opposed to all who denied this divinity. Coming into the presence of the emperor, the bishop paid his respects to him, in the most polite and proper manner. Then he was about to retire from the palace, without taking any special notice of the emperor's son. This made the father angry. He said to the bishop, "Do you take no notice of my son? Have you not heard that I have made him a partner with myself in the government of the empire?" The good old bishop made no reply to this, but going to Arcadius, he laid his hand on his head, saying, as he did so--"The Lord bless thee, my son!" and was again turning to retire. Even this did not satisfy the emperor, who asked, in a tone of surprise and displeasure, "Is _this_ all the respect you pay to a prince whom I have made equal in dignity with myself?" With great warmth the bishop answered--"Does your majesty resent so highly my apparent neglect of your son, because I do not treat him with equal honor to yourself? What, then, must the _Eternal God_--the King of heaven--think of you, who refuse to render to his only begotten Son, the honor and the worship that he claims for him?" This had such an effect upon the emperor that he changed his views on this subject, and ever afterwards took part with those who acknowledged the divinity of Christ, and honored the Son, even as they honored the Father. And so we see that the second lesson taught by the Transfiguration was the _lesson of instruction_. We must learn to think of Christ as the Father in heaven thinks of him. _And then there is_--A LESSON OF DUTY--_that comes to us from this Transfiguration scene_. We are taught this lesson by the last two words that were spoken, by the voice which the apostles heard from the cloud that overshadowed them. These are the words:--"_Hear Him."_ "This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased: _Hear Him_." This is God's command to every one of us. To hear Jesus, means to listen attentively to what he has to say, and to do it. And what does Jesus say to us? He says many things. But the most important thing he has to say to the young, is what we find in St. Matt, vi: 33: "_Seek ye_ FIRST _the kingdom of God_." This means that we must give our hearts to Jesus, and serve him while we are young. We must do this _first_,--before we do anything else. We cannot hear or obey Jesus in anything, till we hear and obey him in this. And there are three good reasons why we should do this. We should "hear him" because there is _safety_ in it. We are exposed to dangers every day, and nothing will so help to keep us safe in the midst of these dangers as hearing Jesus, and doing what he tells us to do. Here is an illustration of what I mean. "Life in the Midst of Danger." There was an alarm of fire one day, near one of our large public schools. The children in the school were greatly frightened. They screamed, and left their places, and began to rush to the windows and stairs. The stairway leading to the door was soon choked up; and although the fire never reached the school-house, many of the children had their limbs broken and were bruised and wounded in other ways. But there was one little girl who remained quietly in her seat during all this excitement. When the alarm was over, and the wounded children had been taken home, and order was restored in the school, the teacher asked this little girl why she sat still in her seat, and did not rush towards the door, as the other girls had done. "My father is a fireman," she said, "and he has always told me that if ever there was a cry of fire when I was in school, I must remain quiet in my seat, for that was the safest way. I was dreadfully frightened; but I knew that what father had told me was best; and so I sat still, while the others were running to the door." This little girl _heard_ her father. She minded him. She did what he told her to do, and she found safety in doing so. And if we "_hear him_" of whom the voice from the Mount of Transfiguration speaks to us--we shall find safety from many a danger. We ought to learn this lesson of duty, and "hear him," because there is _success_ in it. In old times, when the racers were running in the public games, if a man wished to be successful in the race, it was necessary for him to fix his eye on the prize, at the end of the race-course, and keep it fixed there till he reached the end. No one could have any success in racing who did not do this. Here is an incident about some boys at play that illustrates the point now before us. "How to Walk Straight." A light snow had fallen in a certain village, and some of the village boys met to make the best use they could of the new fallen snow. It was too dry for snowballing, and was not deep enough for coasting; so they thought they would improve the occasion by playing at making tracks in the snow. There was a large meadow near by, with a grand old oak tree standing in the centre of it. The boys gathered round the tree, and stood, on opposite sides, each one with his back against the tree. At a given signal they were to start, and walk to the fence opposite to each of them; and then return to the tree, and see which had made the straightest track. The signal was given. They started. They reached the fence, and returned to the tree. "Now, boys, who has made the straightest track?" said one of the boys, named James Allison. "Henry Armstrong's is the only one that is straight at all," said Thomas Sanders. "I don't see how we all contrived to go so crooked, when the meadow is so smooth, and there is nothing to turn us out of the way," said one of the boys. And then, looking to their successful companion, they said--"Tell us, Harry, how you managed to make so straight a track?" Now mark what Harry said:--"I fixed my eye on yonder tall pine tree on the other side of the fence towards which I was to walk, and never looked away from it till I reached the fence." The other boys were walking without any particular aim in view. No wonder that their walk was crooked. After the apostle Paul became a Christian, he made one of the straightest tracks through this world to heaven that ever was made. And he made it in just the same way in which Harry Armstrong made his straight track through that meadow. We have seen what Harry said of his track through the snow; now see what St. Paul says of the way in which he made his straight track through this world to heaven. _This_ is what he says: "One thing I do; forgetting those things which are behind, and reaching forth unto those things which are before, I press toward the mark, for the prize of the high calling of God, in Christ Jesus," Phil, iii 13,14. This was just what the racer used to do in the ancient games, when he fixed his eye on the prize and pressed right forward till he reached it. And it was just what Harry Armstrong did in his play. He fixed his eye on the big pine tree and never turned to the right hand or to the left till he reached it. The apostle Paul fixed his eye on Jesus, and made a straight track through the world till he reached the glorious heaven where Jesus dwells. And, in doing this, the great apostle was only practising the lesson of duty taught by the voice that speaks from the Transfiguration scene. "_Hear him_," said that voice. And if you and I listen to it, and obey it, as St. Paul did, it will lead us to follow him as he followed Christ; and then we shall make a straight path through this world to heaven, as he did in his Christian course. There is success in doing this. And then there is--_profit_--in learning this lesson, as well as safety and success. David says, when speaking of God's commands, "In keeping of them there is _great reward,"_ Ps. xix: 11. This is true of all God's commands; and it is especially true of the command we are now considering--"Hear him." Samuel obeyed this command, and it made him a blessing and an honor to the nation of Israel. David obeyed it, and it made him one of the greatest and most successful kings. Daniel obeyed it, and it covered him with honor, and made him a blessing to his own nation, and to the church of Christ in every age. "The Reward of Obedience." Here is an Eastern story which illustrates this point of our subject. The story says there was once an enchanted hill. On the top of this hill a great treasure was hidden. This treasure was put there to be the reward of any one who should reach the top of the hill without looking behind him. The command and the promise given to every young person who set out to climb that hill, were--do not look behind you, and that treasure shall be yours. But there was a threat added to the command and promise. The threat was, if you look behind, you will be turned into a stone. Many young persons started, to try and gain the prize. But the way to the top of the hill led them through beautiful groves, which covered the side of the hill. In these groves were birds singing sweetly, and sounds of music were heard, and melodious voices inviting those who passed by to stop and rest awhile. One after another of those who set out for the prize at the top of the hill would stop, and look round to see where the voices came from; and immediately they were turned into stones. "Hence," says the story, "in a little while the hillside was covered with stones, into which those had been turned who neglected the command given them when they started." Of course there never was such a hill as this. But the story gives us a good illustration. Our life may well be compared to such a hill. The treasure, on the top of it, represents the reward that awaits us in heaven, if we serve God faithfully. The songs, and the voices, from the groves, on the hillside, represent the temptations that surround us in our daily paths. The lesson of duty that comes to us from the Transfiguration scene--"Hear him"--is the only thing that can preserve us from these temptations. If we hear Jesus when he says to us--"follow me;" if we give him our hearts and walk in his way, he will carry us through all temptations; he will bring us safely to the top of the hill; and the reward laid up there will be ours. Let us learn this lesson of duty, because there is safety in it; there is success in it; there is profit in it. And so we have spoken of two things in connection with the Transfiguration; these are the wonders that attended it, and the lessons taught by it. The wonders are three--the wonderful change--the wonderful company--and the wonderful conversation; and the lessons are three--the lesson of hope--the lesson of instruction--and the lesson of duty. In leaving this subject, let us lift up our hearts to Jesus, and say, in the beautiful language of the Te Deum: "Thou art the King of Glory, O Christ! Thou art the everlasting Son of the Father. When Thou hadst overcome the sharpness of death Thou didst open the kingdom of heaven to all believers. Thou sittest at the right hand of God, In the glory of the Father. We believe that thou shalt come to be our Judge. We therefore pray thee, help thy servants Whom thou hast redeemed with thy precious blood. Make them to be numbered with thy saints, In glory everlasting. Amen." THE LESSONS FROM OLIVET Our last chapter was on the Transfiguration. The next will be on The Last Supper. Between these two events in our Saviour's life, how many interesting incidents took place! How many important sayings that fell from his gracious lips during this period are written for our instruction by the four evangelists! There is, for instance, the beautiful lesson about what it is on which the value of our gifts depend. He taught this lesson when he saw the rich casting their gifts into the treasury. Among them came "a certain poor widow, casting in two mites. And he said, Of a truth I say unto you, that this poor widow hath cast in more than they all;--for she of her penury hath cast in all the living she had," Luke xxi: 1-4. But, from among all these, we have only room for one chapter. A dozen, or twenty chapters would be needed on this part of the life of Christ. Where there are so many that might be taken, it has been very difficult to decide which is the best. In deciding this matter, I do not think we could do better than join the company of the three favored disciples, Peter, John, and James, and go, in thought with them, as they followed their Master from his last visit to the temple in Jerusalem, up to the top of the Mount of Olives. There Jesus took his seat, and his disciples sat around him, anxious to ask him some questions about what he had said to them in the temple. We read in St. Mark xiii: 1-2, that as he was going out of the temple the disciples called his attention to the beauty of that sacred building and the great size and splendor of some of the stones that were in it. Then Jesus pointed to that great building, and told them that the time was coming when it would be destroyed, and "there should not be left one stone upon another that should not be thrown down." This filled the minds of the disciples with surprise and wonder. They supposed that their temple would last as long as the world stood. They thought that it was the end of the world of which Jesus was speaking; and they were very anxious that he should tell them something more about it. And so, as soon as they were seated around him, on the Mount of Olives, they said, "Tell us, when shall these things be? and what shall be the sign, when all these things shall be fulfilled?" St. Mark xii: 4. And now, we may imagine ourselves sitting with Jesus and his disciples on the Mount of Olives. As we look down we see the city of Jerusalem spread out beneath our feet. We see its walls, and its palaces. And there, just before us, outshining everything in its beauty, is that sacred temple, that was "forty and six years in building." Its white marble walls, its golden spires, and pinnacles, are sparkling in the beams of the sun, as they shine upon them. No wonder the Jews were so proud of it! It was a glorious building. But now Jesus is beginning to speak. Let us listen to what he says. The lessons that he taught on the Mount of Olives run all through the twenty-fourth and twenty-fifth chapters of St. Matthew. In the first of these chapters, Jesus gave them a sign, by which those who learn to understand what he here says, might know when his second coming is to take place. These are some of the lessons from Olivet. I should like, very much, to stop and talk about them. But this cannot be now. We pass over to the twenty-fifth chapter of St. Matthew. In this chapter we have three of our Saviour's parables. These are very solemn and instructive. They all refer to the judgment that must take place when Jesus shall come into our world again. The second of these parables is the one we are now to consider. It is called--"The Parable of the Talents." We find it in St. Matt, xxv: 14-30. And _the lessons from Olivet_, which we are now to try and learn, are all drawn from the words of our Saviour, contained in the verses just mentioned. This, then, is our present subject--_The Lessons from Olivet_. And there _four_ lessons, in this part of our Saviour's discourse, of which we are now to speak. _The first is--the lesson about the Master. The second--the lesson about the servants. The third is--the lesson about the talents; and the fourth, the lesson about the rewards_. _The lesson about_--THE MASTER--_is the first thing of which we are to speak_. In the 14th verse of this 25th chapter of St. Matthew, Jesus speaks of himself as--"a man travelling into a far country,"--and of his people as--"his own servants." In the 19th verse he speaks of himself as "the lord of those servants, coming back, after a long time, to reckon with them." In St. Luke xix: 11-27 we have another of our Saviour's parables, very similar to the one now before us. There, he speaks of himself as "a _nobleman_ who went into a far country to receive for himself a kingdom, and to return." This language was borrowed from a custom that prevailed in those days. The headquarters of the government of the world then was in the city of Rome. The kings and rulers of different countries received their appointments to the offices they held from the Roman Emperor. Archelaus, the son of Herod, succeeded his father as king of Judea. But, it was necessary for him to go to Rome and get permission from the emperor to hold and exercise that office. He had done this, not very long before our Saviour applied to himself the words we are now considering. This was a fact well known. And this is the illustration which Jesus here uses in reference to himself. He is the Head--the Prince--the Lord--the Master of all things in his church. He spoke of himself to his disciples as their "Lord and Master," St. John xiii: 14. He tells us that he has gone to heaven, as Archelaus went to Rome, "to receive for himself a kingdom and to return." He said he would be absent "a long time," verse 19. And this is true. He has been absent more than eighteen hundred years. He said he would "return," or come again. And so he will. It is just as certain that he will come again as it is that he went away. And he will come, not in figure, or in spirit, but in person, as he went. Remember what the angels said about this to his disciples, at the time of his departure. "Ye men of Galilee, why stand ye gazing up into heaven? this same Jesus, which is taken from you into heaven, shall _so come, in like manner_ as ye have seen him go into heaven," Acts i: 11. He said he would return, and so he will. But, in the meantime, he would have us remember that he is still our Lord and Master. No master ever had such a right to be Lord and Ruler as he has. God the Father has appointed him to be "Head over all things to his church," Ephes. i: 22. He is our Master, because he _made_ us. This is what no other ever did for his servants. He is our Master because he _preserves_ us. We cannot keep ourselves for a single moment, but he keeps us all the time,--by night, and by day. And he is our Master because, when we had sold ourselves into sin, and were appointed unto death, _he redeemed us_. He bought us with the price of his own precious blood. He made our hands to work for him; and our feet to walk in his ways. He made our hearts to love him;--our minds to think about him; our eyes to see the beauty of his wondrous works, our ears to listen to his gracious words, and our lips and tongues to be employed in speaking and singing his praises. We cannot be our own masters. "I am my own master!"--said a young man, proudly, to a friend who was trying to persuade him from doing a wrong thing; "I am my own master!" "That's impossible," said his friend. "You can not be master of yourself, unless you are master of everything within, and everything around you. Look within. There is your conscience to keep clear, and your heart to make pure, your temper to govern, your will to control, and your judgment to instruct. And then look without. There are storms, and seasons; accidents, and dangers; a world full of evil men and evil spirits. What can you do with these? And yet, if you don't master them, they'll master you." "That's so," said the young man. "Now, I don't undertake any such thing," said his friend. "I am sure I should fail, if I did. Saul, the first king of Israel, wanted to be his own master, and failed. So did Herod. So did Judas. No man can be his own master. 'One is your Master, even Christ,' says the apostle. I work under his direction. He is my regulator, and when he is Master all goes right. Think of these words,--'_He is your Master even Christ_.' If we put ourselves under his leadership we shall surely win at last." And as we cannot be our own master, if we refuse to take Christ as our Ruler, there is nothing left for us but to have Satan as our master. These are the only two masters we can have. We must make our choice between them. If Jesus is not our Master, Satan must be. If Jesus is our Master here, he will share his glory with us hereafter. If we serve Satan here, we must share his punishment hereafter. This is one of the solemn lessons that Jesus taught on Olivet. He is speaking of the day of judgment. He represents himself as on the judgment-seat. Two great companies are before him. On his right hand are those who took him for their Master. To them he says--"Come, ye blessed children of my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you, from the foundation of the world," St. Matt, xxv: 34. On his left are those who took Satan for their master. The awful words he speaks to them are:--"Depart from, ye cursed, into everlasting fire, prepared for the devil and his angels." St. Matt. xxv: 41. This is our first lesson from Olivet--the lesson about the Master. _The second lesson from Olivet is the lesson about_--THE SERVANTS. We are told that before this nobleman went away to the far country, he called to him "his own servants." The nobleman here spoken of means Jesus, our blessed Master. And now the question is--who are meant by "his own servants?" He has three kinds of servants. The first kind is made up of those who serve him _ignorantly_. This takes in all those things that have no knowledge or understanding. There, for instance are the sun,--the moon,--the stars,--the mountains,--the hills,--the plains,--the valleys,--the rivers,--the seas,--the wind that blows,--the rains that descend,--and the dews that distil; these all serve God, without knowing it. He made them to serve him, and they do it; but they do it ignorantly. "His kingdom _ruleth over all_," and it makes all these things his servants. They do exactly what they were made for, but they do it ignorantly. And there is another class of our Lord's creatures who serve him _unwillingly_. This is a very large class. It takes in all the wicked men, and the wicked spirits who are to be found anywhere. They do not wish to serve God, and yet, in spite of themselves, they are obliged to do it. We see this illustrated, when we think of the way in which the crucifixion of our blessed Saviour was brought about. Satan stirred up the Jews to take Jesus and put him to death. God allowed them to do it. They did it of their own choice--as freely, and as voluntarily, as they ever did anything in their lives. They did it because they hated him, and wished to get him out of their way. So they nailed him to the cross in their malice and their rage. This was the very thing God had determined should be done, that he might save and bless the world. He allowed Satan, and the Jews, to do just what their wicked hearts prompted them to do; and then he overruled it for good. And, in this way, as David says, he "makes the wrath of man to praise him, and the remainder of it he restrains." And thus we see how evil men, and evil spirits, are God's servants _unwillingly_. But then, there is another class of persons who serve God _willingly_. This takes in all those who know and love him. He speaks of them, in this parable as "_his own_ servants." When they find out what he has done for them, the thought of it fills their hearts with love; and then they desire to serve him, and do all he tells them to do, in order to show their love to him. And this is what Jesus means when he says--"Take my yoke upon you; for my yoke is easy, and my burden is light," When we really love a person, anything that we can do for that person is easy and pleasant to us. And so it is the great love for Jesus, that his people have, which makes his yoke easy, and his burden light to them. "How to Become a Willing Servant to Jesus." A little boy came to his grandmother one day, and asked her how he could become a Christian. She answered very simply, "Ask Jesus to give you a new heart, _and believe he does it when you ask him_." "Is that all?" said the little fellow joyfully; "oh! that is easy enough." So he went to his room, and kneeling beside his bed, asked Jesus to give him a new heart. He believed that the dear Saviour, who loves little children, did hear and answer his prayer. And he left his room with a happy heart, for he felt sure that he was now one of Christ's own loving children, and willing servants. And this is the way in which we must take the yoke of Jesus upon us, and become his willing servants. And then in everything that we do we can be serving him. As St. Paul says--"whether we eat or drink, or whatsoever we do, we can do all to the glory of God." A good man once said "that if God should send two angels down from heaven, and should tell one of them to sit on a throne and rule a kingdom, and the other to sweep the streets of a city, the latter would feel that he was serving God as acceptably in handling his broom as his brother angel was in holding his sceptre. And this is true. We see the same illustrated in the fable of: "The Stream and the Mill." "I notice," said the stream to the mill, "that you grind beans as well and as cheerfully as you do the finest wheat." "Certainly," said the mill; "what am I here for but to grind? and so long as I work, what does it signify to me what the work is? My business is to serve my master, and I am not a whit more useful when I turn out the finest flour than when I turn out the coarsest meal. My honor is, not in doing fine work, but in doing any thing that is given me to do in the best way that I can." That is true. And this is just the way in which Jesus wishes us to serve him when he says to "_his own_ servants," "Occupy till I come." This means serve me, in everything, as you would do if you saw me standing by your side. "How to Serve God." Willie's mother let him go with his little sister into the street to play. She told them not to go off the street on which their house stood. Willie was a little fellow, and lisped very much in talking; but he was brave, and he was obedient. Presently his sister asked him to go into another street; but he refused. "Mamma thaid no," was Willie's answer. "The thaid we muthn't do off thith threet," said Willie in his lisping way. "Only just a little way round the corner," said his teasing sister. "Mamma'll never know it." "But I thall know it my own thelf; and I don't want to know any thuch a mean thing; and I won't!" And Willie straightened himself, and stood up like a man. That was brave and beautiful in Willie. And that is the way in which we should try to serve our heavenly Master. "How a Boy May Serve God." A gentleman met a little boy wheeling his baby brother in a child's carriage. "My little man," said the gentleman, "what are you doing to serve God?" The little fellow stopped a moment, and then, looking up into the gentleman's face, he said:--"Why, you see, Sir, I'm trying to make baby happy, so that he won't worry mamma who is sick." That was a noble answer. In trying to amuse his baby brother, and to relieve his poor sick mother, that little boy was serving God as truly and as acceptably as the angel Gabriel does when he wings his way, on a mission of mercy, to some far off world. And this is the lesson about the servants that comes to us from Olivet. _The lesson about_--THE TALENTS--_is the third lesson that comes to us from Olivet_. This parable tells us that before the Master went away, he "called his own servants, and delivered unto them his goods. Unto one he gave five talents, to another two, to another one; to every man according to his several ability." verses 14, 15, In St. Luke's account of the parable, what the master gave to his servants is spoken of as _pounds_, and each servant is said to have received one pound. These talents or pounds both mean the same thing. They denote something with which we can do good, and make ourselves useful. And it is plain, from both these parables, that the Master gave at least _one_ talent, or one pound, to each of his servants. None of them were left without some portion of their Master's goods. And the lesson from Olivet which comes to us here is that every one of us has a talent, or a pound, that our Master Jesus, has given us, and which he expects us to use for him. And the most important thing for us is to find out what our talents are, and how we can best use them, so as to be ready to give a good account of them when our Master comes to reckon with us. A TALENT FOR EACH. "God entrusts to all Talents few or many; None so young and small That they have not any. "Little drops of rain Bring the springing flowers; And I may attain Much by little powers. "Every little mite, Every little measure, Helps to spread the light, Helps to swell the treasure. "God will surely ask, Ere I enter heaven, Have I done the task Which to me was given?" "One Talent Improved." One day, amidst the crowded streets of London, a poor little newsboy had both his legs broken by a dray passing over them. He was laid away, in one of the beds of a hospital, to die. On the next cot to him was another little fellow, of the same class, who had been picked up, sick with the fever which comes from hunger and want. The latter boy crept close up to his poor suffering companion and said: "Bobby, did you ever hear about Jesus?" "No, I never heard of him." "Bobby, I went to the mission-school once; and they told us that Jesus would take us up to heaven when we die, if we axed him; and we'd never have any more hunger or pain." "But I couldn't ax such a great gentleman as he is to do anything for me. He wouldn't stop to speak to a poor boy like me." "But hell do all that for you Bobby, if you ax him." "But how can I ax him, if I don't know where he lives? and how could I get: there when both my legs is broke?" "Bobby, they told us, at the mission-school, as how Jesus passes by. The teacher said he goes around. How do you know but what he might come round to this hospital this very night? You'd know him if you was to see him." "But I can't keep my eyes open. My legs feels awful bad. Doctor says I'll die." "Bobby, hold up yer hand, and he'll know what you want, when he passes by." They got the hand up; but it dropped. They tried it again, and it slowly fell back. Three times they got up the little hand, only to let it fall. Bursting into tears he said, "I give it up." "Bobby," said his tender-hearted companion, "lend me yer hand. Put your elbow on my piller: I can do without it." So the hand was propped up. And when they came in the morning, the boy lay dead; but his hand was still held up for Jesus. And don't you think that he heard and answered the silent but eloquent appeal which it made to him for his pardon and grace, and salvation, to that poor dying boy? I do, I do. Bobby's friend had been once to the mission-school. He had but a single talent; but, he made good use of it when he employed it to lead that wounded, suffering, dying boy to Jesus. "Good Friends." "I wish I had some good friends, to help me on in life!" cried lazy Dennis, with a yawn. "Good friends," said his master, "why you've got ten; how many do you want?" "I'm sure I've not half so many; and those I have are too poor to help me." "Count your fingers, my boy," said the master. Dennis looked down on his big, strong hands. "Count thumbs and all," added the master. "I have; there are ten," said the lad. "Then never say you have not ten good friends, able to help you on in life. Try what those true friends can do, before you go grumbling and fretting because you have none to help you." Now, suppose that we put the word talents, for the word friends, in this little story. Then, we may each of us hold our two hands before us, and say "here are ten talents, which God has given me to use for him. Let me try and do all the good I can with these ten talents." THE BEST THAT I CAN. "'I cannot do much,' said a little star, 'To make the dark world bright; My silvery beams can not struggle far Through the folding gloom of night; But I'm only a part of God's great plan, And I'll cheerfully do the best I can.' "A child went merrily forth to play, But a thought, like a silver thread, Kept winding in and out, all day, Through the happy golden head. Mother said,--'Darling, do all you can; For you are a part of God's great plan.' "So he helped a younger child along, When the road was rough to the feet, And she sung from her heart a little song That we all thought passing sweet; And her father, a weary, toil-worn man, Said, 'I, too, will do the best I can.'" "A Noble Boy." "Not long ago," said a Christian lady, "I saw a boy do something that made me glad for a week. Indeed it fills my heart with tenderness and good feeling whenever I think about it. But let me tell you what it was. "As I was walking along a crowded street I saw an old blind man walking on without any one to lead him. He went very slowly, feeling his way with his cane. "'He's walking straight to the highest part of the curb-stone,' said I to myself. 'And it's very high too. I wonder if some one won't help him and start him in the right direction.' "Just then, a boy, about fourteen years old, who was playing near by, ran up to the old man and gently putting his hand through the man's arm, said:--'Allow me, my friend, to lead you across the street.' By this time there were three or four others watching the boy. He not only helped the old man over one crossing, but led him over another to the lower side of the street. Then he ran back to his play. "Now this boy thought he had only done an act of kindness to that old man. But just see how much farther than that the use of his one talent went. The three boys with whom he was playing, and who had watched his kind act, were happier and better for it, and felt that they must be more careful to do little kindnesses to those about them. "The three or four persons who stopped to watch the boy turned away with a tender smile upon their faces, ready to follow the good example of that noble boy. I am sure that I felt more gentle and loving towards every one, from what I saw that boy do. "And then, another one that was made happy was the boy himself. For, it is impossible for us to do a kind act, or to make any one else happy, without feeling better and happier ourselves. To _be_ good and to _do_ good, is the way to be happy. This is our mission here in this world. Whatever talents our Master has given us, he intends that we should use them in this way." "Tiny's Work for God." Two little girls, Leila and Tiny, were sitting, one summer day, under the tree which grew beside their home. Both children had been quiet for a little while, when suddenly Tiny raised her blue eyes and said, "I _am_ so happy, Leila. I do love the flowers, and the birdies, and you, and everybody so much." Then she added, in a whisper, "And I love God, who made us all so happy. Sister, I wish I could do something for him." "Mother says if we love him, that is what he likes best of all," said Leila. "Yes, but I do want to _do_ something for him--something that would give me trouble. Can't you think of anything?" Leila thought a little, and said, "Perhaps you could print a text for the flowers mother sends every week to the sick people in the hospital. They are so glad to have the flowers, and then the text might help them think about our Father in heaven." "Oh! thank you, sister, that will be so nice! I will write--'Suffer the little children to come unto me, and forbid them not.'" But Tiny was only a little over four years old, and it was hard for her to hold a pen, but she managed to print two letters every day till the text was finished. Then she went alone to her room, and laying the text on a chair, she kneeled down beside it, and said--"Heavenly Father, I have done this for you: please take it from Tiny, for Jesus Christ's sake. Amen." And God heard the prayer, for he always listens when children truly pray. So Tiny's text was sent up to London, and a lady put a very pretty flower into the card and took it to the hospital. She stopped beside a bed where a little boy was lying. His face was almost as white as the pillow on which he lay, and his dark eyes were filled with tears. "Is the pain very bad to-day, Willie?" "Yes, miss; its dreadful-like. But it's not so much the pain as I mind. I'm used to that, yer know. Father beat me every day a'most, when he was drunk. But the doctor says I'm too ill for 'im to 'ave any 'opes for me, and I'm mighty afeard to die." "If you had a friend who loved you, and you were well, would you be afraid to go and stay with him, Willie?" "Why no, I'd like to go, in course." "I have brought you a message from a Friend, who has loved you all your life long. He wants you to trust him, and to go and live with him. He will love you always, and you will always be happy." Then the lady read Tiny's text, "_Suffer the little children to come unto me, and forbid them not._" She told him how Jesus had died, and then had risen again, and had gone to heaven, to prepare a place for _him_, and for many other children. She told him how Jesus is still saying "Come," and his hand is still held out to bless. So Willie turned to the Good Shepherd, and was no longer afraid. A few days afterwards he whispered--"Lord Jesus, I am coming;" and he died with Tiny's text in his hand. That little girl used the talent that was given her, and it helped to bring a soul to Jesus. EVERY TALENT USEFUL. "Though little I bring, Said the tiny spring, As it burst from the mighty hill, 'Tis pleasant to know, Wherever I flow, The pastures are greener still. "And the drops of rain As they fall on the plain, When parched by the summer heat, Refresh the sweet flowers Which droop in the bowers, And hang down their heads at our feet. "May we strive to fulfill All His righteous will, Who formed the whole earth by His word! Creator Divine! We would ever be Thine, And serve Thee--our God, and our Lord!" Let us never forget this third lesson from Olivet, the lesson about,--the talents. _The fourth, and last lesson from Olivet is the lesson about_--THE REWARDS. The parable tells us that when the Master came back, and reckoned with his servants, he said to each of those who had made a right use of his talents:--"Well done, good and faithful servant, thou hast been faithful over a few things, I will make thee ruler over many things; enter thou into the joy of thy lord." In the parable in St. Luke we are told that the servant who had gained ten pounds was made ruler over ten cities; and he who had gained five pounds was made ruler over five cities. This shows us that God will reward his people, hereafter, according to the degree of faithfulness with which each one shall have used the talents given to him. And this is the lesson which the apostle Paul teaches us when he says that, "Every man shall receive _his own reward_ according to _his own labor."_ I. Cor. iii: 8. All the willing, loving servants of God will receive a crown of life when Jesus comes to reckon with them. But those crowns will not be all alike. They are spoken of as "crowns of gold:" Rev. iv: 4; as "crowns of glory:" I. Peter v: 4, and as "crowns of life:" Rev. iii: 11. But still there will be very great differences between these crowns. Some will be simply crowns of gold, or of glory, without any gems or jewels to ornament them. Some will have two or three small jewels shining in them. But, others again will be full of the most beautiful jewels, all glittering and sparkling with glory. And this will all depend upon the way in which those who wear these crowns used their talents while they were on earth, and the amount of work they did for Jesus. There is an incident mentioned in Roman history about a soldier, which illustrates this part of our subject very well. "The Faithful Soldier and His Rewards." This man had served forty years in the cause of his country--of these, ten years had been spent as a private soldier, and thirty as an officer. He had been present in one hundred and twenty battles, and had been severely wounded forty-five times. He had received fourteen civic crowns, for having saved the lives of so many Roman citizens; three mural crowns, for having been the first to mount the breach when attacking a fortress; and eight golden crowns, for having, on so many occasions, rescued the standard of a Roman legion from the hands of the enemy. He had in his house eighty-three gold chains, sixty bracelets, eighteen golden spears, and twenty-three horse trappings,--the rewards for his many faithful services as a soldier. And when his friends looked at all those honors and treasures which he had received, from time to time, how well they might have said as they pointed to those numerous prizes--that he had "received _his own reward_, according to _his own labor_," and faithfulness! And so it will be with the soldiers of the cross, who are faithful in using the talents given them by their heavenly Master. "A Great Harvest from a Little Seed," Some years ago there was a celebrated artist in Paris whose name was Ary Scheffer. On one occasion he wished to introduce a beggar into a certain picture he was painting. Baron Rothschild, the famous banker, and one of the richest men in the world, was a particular friend of this artist. He happened to come into his studio at the very time he was trying to get a beggar to be the model of one which he desired to put into his painting. "Wait till to-morrow," said Mr. Rothschild, "and I will dress myself up as a beggar, and make you an excellent model." "Very well," said the artist, who was pleased with the strangeness of the proposal. The next day the rich banker appeared, dressed up as a beggar, and a very sorry looking beggar he was. While the artist was engaged in painting him, another friend of his came into the studio. He was a kind-hearted, generous man. As he looked on the model beggar, he was touched by his wretched appearance, and as he passed him, he slipped a louis d'or--a French gold coin, worth about five dollars of our money--into his hand. The pretended beggar took the coin, and put it in his pocket. Ten years after this, the gentleman who gave this piece of money received an order on the bank of the Rothschilds for ten thousand francs. This was enclosed in a letter which read as follows: "Sir: You one day gave a louis d'or to Baron Rothschild, in the studio of Ary Scheffer. He has invested it, and made good use of it, and to-day he sends you the capital you entrusted to him, together with the interest it has gained. A good action is always followed by a good reward. "JAMES DE ROTHSCHILD." In those few years that one gold coin, of twenty francs, had increased to ten thousand francs. And this illustrates the way in which Jesus the heavenly Master rewards those who use their talents for him. See how he teaches this lesson, when he says--"Whosoever shall give to drink unto one of these little ones a cup of cold water only in the name of a disciple, verily I say unto you, he shall in _no wise lose his reward_." St. Matt, x: 42. And in another place we are told that the reward shall be "an hundred fold," and shall run on into "everlasting life." St. Matt, xix: 29. How sweetly some one has thus written about THE REWARD OF HEAVEN. "Light after darkness, gain after loss, Strength after weariness, crown after cross; Sweet after bitter, song after sigh, Home after wandering, praise after cry; Sheaves after sowing, sun after rain, Light after mystery, peace after pain; Joy after sorrow, calm after blast, Rest after weariness, sweet rest at last; Near after distant, gleam after gloom, Love after loneliness, life after tomb. After long agony, rapture of bliss, Christ is the pathway leading to this!" The last lesson from Olivet is the lesson about the rewards. And taking these lessons together, let us remember that they are--the lesson _about the Master_: the lesson _about the servants_: the lesson _about the talents_: and the lesson _about the rewards_. The Collect for the thirteenth Sunday after Trinity is a very suitable prayer to offer after meditating on the lessons from Olivet: "Almighty and merciful God, of whose only gift it cometh that thy faithful people do unto thee true and laudable service: Grant, we beseech thee, that we may so faithfully serve thee in this life, that we fail not finally to attain thy heavenly promises; which exceed all that we can desire; through the merits of Jesus Christ our Lord. AMEN!" THE LORD'S SUPPER We are approaching now the end of our Saviour's life. The last week has come, and we are in the midst of it. This is called Passion week. We commonly use this word _passion_ to denote anger. But the first and true meaning of the word, and of the Latin word from which it comes, is--suffering. And this is the sense in which we find the word used in Acts i: 3. There, St. Luke, who wrote the Acts, is speaking of Christ's appearing to the apostles, after his resurrection, and he uses this language: "To whom he showed himself alive, after his _passion_;" or after his suffering and death. In the midst of this last week--this passion week--one of the interesting things that Jesus did was to keep the Jewish Passover for the last time with his disciples. This Passover feast had been kept by the Jews every year for nearly fifteen hundred years. It was the most solemn religious service they had. It was first observed by them in the night on which their nation was delivered from the bondage of Egypt and began their march towards the promised land of Canaan. We read about the establishment of this solemn service in Exodus, twelfth chapter. The first Passover took place on the fourteenth day of the month Nisan. This had been the seventh month of the year with the Jews. But God directed them to take it for their first month ever afterwards. They were to begin their year with that month. Every family was to choose out a lamb for themselves, on the tenth day of the month. They were to keep it to the fourteenth day of the month. On the evening of that day, they were to kill the lamb. The blood of the lamb was to be sprinkled on the two side-posts and upper lintels of every door. They were to roast the lamb and eat it, with solemn religious services. And, while they were doing this, the angel of the Lord was to pass over all the land of Egypt, and, with his unseen sword, to smite and kill the first-born, or eldest child, in every family, from Pharaoh on his throne to the poorest beggar in the land. But the blood, sprinkled on the door-posts of the houses in which the Israelites dwelt, was to save them from the stroke of the angel of death as he passed over the land. And so it came to pass. The solemn hour of midnight arrived. The angel went on his way. He gave one stroke with his dreadful sword--and there was a death in every Egyptian family. But in the blood-sprinkled dwellings of the Israelites, there was no one dead. What a wonderful night that was! Nothing like it was ever known in the history of our world. It is not surprising that the children of Israel, through all their generations, should have kept that Passover feast with great interest--an interest that never died out, from age to age. Nor do we wonder that our blessed Saviour looked forward longingly to the occasion when, for the last time, he was to celebrate this Passover with his disciples. As they began the feast he said to them, "With desire I have desired" that is, I have earnestly, or heartily desired "to eat this passover with you before I suffer," St. Luke xxii: 15. It is easy to think of many reasons why Jesus should have felt this strong desire. Without attempting to tell what all those reasons were, we can readily think of some things which would lead him, very naturally, to have this feeling. It was the last time he was to eat this Passover with them on earth. This showed that his public work, for which he came into the world, was done. He had only now to suffer and die; to rise from the dead, and then go home to his Father in heaven. This Passover had been one of the services established and kept for the purpose of pointing the attention of men to himself as the Lamb of God who was to take away the sins of the world. And now, the time had come when all that had thus been pointed out concerning him, for so many hundred years, was about to be fulfilled. He, the one true Lamb of God, had come. He was about to die for the sins of the world. Then the Jewish church would pass away, and the Christian church would take its place. And then the blessings of true religion, instead of being confined to one single nation, would be freely offered to all nations; and Jews and Gentiles alike, would be at liberty to come to Christ, and to receive from him pardon, and grace, and salvation, and every blessing. There was enough in thoughts like these to make Jesus long to eat this last Passover with his disciples. In each of the four gospels we have an account of what took place when the time came for keeping this Passover. What is said concerning it we find in the following places: St. Matt xxi: 17-30, St. Mark xiv: 12-26, St. Luke xxii: 7-39. St. John begins with the thirteenth chapter, and ends his account at the close of the seventeenth chapter. He is the only one of the four evangelists who gives a full and particular account of the wonderful sayings of our Lord in connection with this last passover, and of the great prayer that he offered for all his people. Here is a brief outline of these different accounts. When the time came to keep the Passover, Jesus sent two of his disciples from Bethany, where he was then staying, to Jerusalem. He told them, that, when they entered the city, they would meet a man bearing a pitcher of water. They were to ask him to show them the guest-chamber, where he and his disciples might eat the Passover together. There were always great crowds of strangers in Jerusalem at the time of this festival; and many furnished chambers were kept ready to be hired to those who wished them, for celebrating the Passover. This man, of whom our Saviour spoke, was probably a friend of his, and according to our Lord's word, he showed the disciples such a room as they needed. Then they made the necessary preparations; and, when the evening came, Jesus and his disciples met there to keep this solemn feast. Many of the pictures that we see of this last Supper, represent the company as seated round a table, very much in the way in which we are accustomed to sit ourselves. But this is not correct. The people in those Eastern countries were not accustomed to sit as we do. On this occasion the roasted lamb, with the bread and wine to be used at the feast, was placed on a table, and the guests reclined on couches round the table, each man leaning on his left arm, and helping himself to what he needed with his right hand. Various incidents took place in connection with this last Supper. The disciples had a contest among themselves about which of them should be greatest. This led Jesus, in the course of the evening, to give them the lesson of humility, by washing his disciples' feet, of which we have already spoken. Then he told them how sorrowfully he was feeling. He said they would all forsake him, and one of them would betray him that very night. This made them feel very sad. Each of them suspected himself--and asked sorrowfully--"Lord, is it I?" They did not suspect each other; and none of them seems to have suspected Judas Iscariot at all. Then Peter whispered to John, who was leaning on the bosom of Jesus, to ask who it was that was to do this? In answer to John's question, Jesus said it was the one to whom he should give a piece of bread when he had dipped it in the dish. Then he dipped the sop and gave it to Judas. After this, we are told that Satan entered into him, and he went out and made preparation for doing the most dreadful thing that ever was done from the beginning of the world--and that was the betrayal of his great, and good, and holy Master, into the hands of his enemies. When Judas was gone, and before the Passover feast was finished, making use of some of the materials before him, Jesus established one of the two great sacraments to be observed in his church to the end of the world--the sacrament of the Lord's Supper--or the holy Communion. This is St. Luke's account of the way in which it was done, chapter xxii: 19, 20--"And he took the bread, and gave thanks, and brake it, and gave unto them, saying, This is my body which is given for you: this do in remembrance of me. Likewise also the cup after supper, saying, This cup is the New Testament in my blood, which is shed for you." St. Matthew adds, and--"for many." Such is the account we have of the first establishment of the Lord's Supper. It was to take the place of the Jewish Passover, and to be observed by the followers of Christ all over the earth, until the time when he shall come again into our world. And this solemn sacrament--this holy communion--this Supper of our Lord, ought to be observed, or kept, by all who love him, for three reasons: these are its connection with _the word of his command--the memory of his sufferings--and the hope of his glory_. Jesus connected this sacrament with _the word of his command_ when he said--"_This do_ in remembrance of me." St. Luke xxii: 19. This is the _command_ of Christ. It is a plain, positive command. Jesus did not give this command to the apostles only, or to his ministers, or to any particular class of his followers, but to all of them. It was given first to his apostles, but it was not intended to be confined to them. Jesus does not say--"This do," ye who are my apostles; or, ye who are my ministers. He does not say--"This do," ye old men, or ye rich men, or ye great men; but simply, "This do." And the meaning of what he here says, is--"This do," all ye who profess to be my followers, all over the world, and through all ages. And the words that he spake on another occasion come in very well here: "If ye love me, keep my commandments." And _this_ is one of the commandments that he expects all his people to keep. He points to his holy sacrament, which he has ordained in his church, and then to each one of his people he says--"This do." No matter whether we wish to do it or not; here are our master's words--"This do." No matter whether we see the use of it, or not; Jesus says--"This do." It is enough for each follower of Jesus to say, "here is my Lord's command; I _must_ obey it." In an army, if the general issues an order, it is expected that every soldier will obey it. And no matter how important, or useful, in itself considered, any work may be, that is done by one of those soldiers, yet, if it be done while he is neglecting the general's order, instead of gaining for that soldier the praise of the general, or of securing a reward from him, it will only excite his displeasure:--he will order that soldier to be punished. But the church of Christ is compared in the Bible to an army. He is the Captain or Leader of this army. And one of the most important orders he has issued for his soldiers is--"This do in remembrance of me." If we profess to be the soldiers of Christ, and are enlisted in his army, and yet are neglecting this order, he never can be pleased with anything we may do while this order is neglected. We seem to see him pointing to this neglected order, and saying to each of us, as he said to Saul, the first king of Israel, by the prophet Samuel: --"Behold, to obey is better than sacrifice: and to hearken, than the fat of rams." I. Sam. xv: 22. No age is fixed in the New Testament at which young people may be allowed to come to the sacrament of the Lord's Supper. But, as soon as they have learned to know and love Christ and are really trying to serve him, they ought to be allowed to come. And yet ministers and parents sometimes keep them back, and tell them they must wait, and be tried a little longer, before they receive the help and comfort of this ordinance of Christ, even when their conduct shows they are sincerely trying to love and serve the blessed Saviour. If a farmer should send his servant out into the field, when winter was approaching, telling him to put the sheep into the fold, that they might be protected from the wolves, and from the cold, it would be thought a strange thing if he should allow him to bring the sheep into the shelter of the fold, and leave the little lambs outside. This is a good illustration to show the importance of taking care of the lambs. But it fails at one point. The shelter of the fold is absolutely necessary for the protection of the farmer's lambs. They could not live without it. If left outside of the fold they would certainly perish. But there is not the same necessity for admitting young people to the Lord's Supper. They are not left out in the cold, like the lambs in the field, even when not admitted to this holy ordinance. They are already under the care and protection of the good Shepherd. He can guard them, and keep them, and cause them to grow in grace, even though, for awhile, they do not have the help and comfort of this sacrament. And, if they are kept back through the fault or mistake of others, he will do so. This sacrament, like that of baptism, is, as the catechism says, "_generally_ necessary to salvation." This means that it is important "where it may be had." But, if circumstances beyond our control should prevent us from partaking of it, we may be saved without it. Still, I think that young people who give satisfactory evidence that they know and love the Saviour, and are trying to serve him, ought to be allowed to come forward to this holy sacrament. Some people when urged to come to the Lord's Supper excuse themselves, by saying that--"they are not prepared to come." But this will not release any one from the command of Christ--"This do." What the preparation is that we need in order that we may come, in a proper way, to this holy sacrament, is clearly pointed out in the exhortation that occurs in the communion service of our church. Here the minister says--"Ye who do truly and earnestly repent of your sins, and are in love and charity with your neighbors, and intend to lead a new life, following the commandments of God, and walking from henceforth in his holy ways: draw near with faith, and take this holy sacrament to your comfort." And there is no excuse for persons not being in the state these words describe: for this is just what God's word, and our own duty and interest require of us. If we have not yet done what these words require, we ought to do it at once; and then there will be nothing in the way of our obeying the command of Christ, when he says--"This do, in remembrance of me," By all the authority which belongs to him our Saviour _commands_ us to keep this holy feast. And the first reason why we ought to "do this," is because of its connection with the word of his command. _The second reason why we ought to "do this"--is because of its connection with the memory of his sufferings_. We are taught this by the word _remembrance_, which our Saviour here uses. He says, "This do in remembrance of me." This means in remembrance of my sufferings for you. And _this_ is the most important word used by him when he established this sacrament. It is the governing word in the whole service. It is the word by which we must be guided in trying to understand what our Lord meant to teach us by all he did and said on this occasion. You know how it is when we are trying to understand the music to which a particular tune has been set. There is always one special note in a tune, which is called the _key-note_. The leader of a choir, when they are going to sing, will strike one of the keys of the organ, or the melodeon they are using, so as to give to each member of the choir the proper key-note of the piece of music they are to sing. It is very important for them to have this key-note, because they cannot have a proper understanding of what they are to do without it. This holy sacrament of the Lord's Supper is like a solemn song. And the key-note of the music to which the song is set is this word--_remembrance_. It teaches us that the sacrament of the Lord's Supper is a _memorial_ service. And, in going through the music to which the song of this service has been set, every note that we use must be a memorial note. And the language used by our blessed Lord when he established this Supper, or sacrament, must be explained in this way. When he broke the bread and gave it to his disciples, saying--"This is my body, which is given for you: this do in remembrance of me," he meant that we should understand him as saying--"This is the _memorial_ of my body." And when he gave them the cup, and said--"This is my blood of the New Testament," he meant that we should understand him as saying--"This is the _memorial_ of my blood." And we are sure that this was the meaning, for two reasons. One reason for believing this is that _this was the way in which similar words had been used in the Jewish Passover, which Jesus and his disciples were then keeping_. In the Passover service, when the head of the family distributed the bread, he always said--"This is the bread of affliction." When he distributed the flesh of the lamb, roasted for the occasion, he used to say--"This is the body of the Passover." But every one knows, and every one admits, that the Jewish Passover was a _memorial_ service. It was kept in memory of the wonderful deliverance of their forefathers from the bitter bondage of Egypt. And the words used at that service were memorial words. And so, when Jesus, a little while before, had given to his disciples the Passover bread, saying--"This is the bread of affliction:" he did not mean to say that _that_ was the very same bread which their forefathers had eaten, in the time of their affliction in Egypt. What he meant to say was--this is the bread which you are to eat in _memory_ of your forefathers' trial and deliverance. And when he gave to each of them a piece of the sacrificial lamb, saying, "This is the body of the Passover;" he did not mean that in any mysterious, or supernatural sense, _that_ was the very lamb of which their forefathers had eaten on the solemn night of the Passover; he only meant that it was the body of which they were to eat in memory of the Passover. The Passover was a memorial service; and the words used at the Passover were memorial words. And so, when Jesus went on, from the last Passover of the Jewish church, to the first sacramental feast of the Christian church, and began by saying, "This do in _remembrance_ of me," what else could the apostles possibly have thought, but that he intended this new service of the Christian church to be a memorial service, just as the old festival of the Jewish church had been? When he gave them the broken bread, and said, "This is my body;" they could only have understood him as meaning this is the memorial of my body. And when he gave them the cup into which he had just poured the wine, and said: "This is my blood;" they could only understand him as meaning this is the memorial of my blood. And so, the sense in which he had just before used the words employed in the Jewish festival must have led the disciples to understand them in the same way when he used similar words in the Christian sacrament. This is a good, strong reason for thinking of this sacramental feast as a memorial service. There is indeed, one point of difference between the Jewish Passover and the Christian sacrament, when we think of them as memorial services. The Jews kept their solemn festival in memory of a _dead_ lamb--the Passover lamb that was put to death for them, but never came to life again. We keep our Christian sacrament in memory of the Lamb of God, who died for us indeed, but who rose from the dead, and is alive forevermore. As we keep this solemn festival, we may lift up our adoring hearts to him and say for ourselves personally, "O, the Lamb! the loving Lamb! The Lamb of Calvary! The Lamb that was slain, but liveth again, And intercedes for me!" And though they are both memorial services, yet this one thought makes a world-wide difference between them. The bread and meat which the pious Jew ate, when he kept the Passover, and the wine which he drank on that occasion, would strengthen his body, but there was nothing connected with those material substances that would do any special good to his soul. It is different, however, with our Christian festival of the Lord's Supper. And this difference is clearly brought out in what we find in the catechism of our church on this subject. In speaking of this holy sacrament, the question is asked--"What are the benefits whereof we are partakers thereby?" And the answer to this question is--"The strengthening and refreshing of our souls, by the body and blood of Christ, as our bodies are by the bread and wine." Here we see that while the Lord's Supper is a memorial service indeed, it is at the same time something more than that. _And then, the actual bodily presence of Christ with them must have compelled the apostles to understand the words he used on that occasion, in this memorial sense_. They could not possibly have considered him as meaning that the bread and wine which he gave them at that solemn service did, in any mysterious and supernatural way, become his actual flesh and blood; because, these were already before them in the form of his own body. And they could not be in his body and in the bread and wine, at the same time. The sense in which Jesus first used these words--"my body" and "my blood," was clearly the memorial sense. He meant his disciples to understand him as saying "Take this bread in remembrance of my body, which is to be crucified for you;" and "Take this wine in remembrance of my blood which is to be shed for you." This was what he taught the apostles when he first used these words among them; and this was all he taught them; and we have no right to use these words in any other sense till our blessed Lord himself shall give us authority to do so. Let us never forget the word--_remembrance_, as used by our Saviour here. It is the root out of which the whole tree of this solemn service grows. Let us hold on to this root word, and it will save us from the errors into which many have fallen in reference to this subject. And, surely, there is nothing so precious for us to store away in our memories as the thought of Christ in the amazing sufferings he once bore for us, in the great work he is now doing for us, and in the saving truth he embodies in his own glorious character. The story is told of Alexander the Great, that when he conquered King Darius he found among his treasures a very valuable box or cabinet. It was made of gold and silver, and inlaid with precious jewels. After thinking for awhile what to do with it, he finally concluded to use it as his choicest treasury, or cabinet, in which to keep the books of the poet Homer, which he was very fond of reading. Now, if we use our memory aright, it will be to us a treasury far more valuable than that jeweled box of the great conqueror. And the thought of Christ, not in his sufferings only, but in his work, and in his character, is the most precious thing to lay up in our memory. And if we keep this remembrance continually before us it will be the greatest help we can have in trying to love and serve him better. Here is an illustration of what I mean, in a touching story. We may call it: "Love Stronger than Death." Some years ago there was a great fire in one of our Western cities that stood in the midst of a prairie. A mother escaped from her burning dwelling. Her husband was away from home. She took her infant in her arms, and wrapped a heavy shawl round herself and the baby. Her little girl clung to the dress of her mother, and they went out into the prairie, to get away from the flames of the burning buildings. It was a wild and stormy winter's night and intensely cold. She tried to run; but burdened as she was that was impossible. Presently she found that the tall dry grass of the prairie had caught fire. It was spreading on every side. A great circle of flame was gathering round her. A little way off she saw a clump of trees on a piece of rising ground. Towards that spot she directed her steps, and strained every nerve to reach it. At last she succeeded in doing so. For a moment the poor mother and her child were comparatively safe. But, on looking around, she saw that the flames were approaching her from opposite directions. Escape was impossible. Death--a terrible death by fire, seemed to be the only thing before her. She might wrap herself in that great shawl, and perhaps live through it. But, there were the children. Of course a mother could not hesitate a moment what to do under such circumstances. Wrapping the baby round and round in the folds of the shawl, she laid it carefully down, at the foot of one of the trees. Then, taking off her outer clothing, she covered the other child with it. She laid her down beside the baby, and then stretched herself across them. In a few moments the helpless little ones were sound asleep. The long hours of the night passed. The raging flames licked up the withered foliage about that clump of trees, and then left their blackened trunks to the keenness of the wind and frost. The next day the heart-broken husband and father returned to find his home burnt, and his family gone--he knew not whither. He set out to search for his lost treasures. He found them by that clump of trees. There lay his wife--her hair and eyebrows, her face and neck scorched and blackened by the fire--but her body frozen stiff. Whether she perished by the flames or the frost no one ever knew. But, on lifting her burnt form they found, warm and cozy beneath, her two sleeping children. The elder child as they roused her, opened her eyes exclaiming, "Mamma, is it morning?" Yes: it was morning with that faithful mother, in the bright world to which she had gone! Now, suppose that those children, as they grew up, should have had preserved among their treasures a piece of the burnt dress, or a lock of the scorched hair, of their devoted mother. As they looked at it, every day, it would be in _remembrance_ of her. How touchingly it would tell of her great love for them, in being willing to lay down her life to save theirs! And how that thought would thrill their hearts and make them anxious to do all they could to show their respect and love for such a mother! And so the broken bread and the poured out wine of this solemn sacrament should melt our hearts in the remembrance of the wonderful love of Christ to us, and should lead us to show our love to him by keeping his commandments. And as we keep this solemn memorial service, how well we may say, in the words of the hymn: "According to thy gracious word, In meek humility, This will we do, our dying Lord, We will remember thee. Thy body, broken for our sake, Our bread from heaven shall be: Thy sacramental cup we take, And thus remember thee. "Can we Gethsemane forget? Or there thy conflict see, Thine agony and bloody sweat, And not remember thee? When to the cross we turn our eyes, And rest on Calvary, O Lamb of God, our sacrifice, We must remember thee." _But Jesus has connected this blessed sacrament with the hope of his glory_--as well as with the word of his command and the memory of his sufferings. He made this connection very clear when he said at the institution of this solemn service--"I will not drink henceforth of this fruit of the vine until that day when I drink it new with you in my Father's kingdom." St. Matt, xxvi: 29. And the apostle Paul pointed out the same connection when he said, "As often as ye eat this bread, and drink this cup, ye do shew the Lord's death, _till he come_." I. Cor. xi: 26. This sacrament of the Lord's Supper is the point of meeting between the sufferings of Christ and the glory that is to follow--between his cross, with all its shame and anguish, and his kingdom, with all its honor and blessedness. We have sometimes heard or read of magicians who have pretended to have wonderful mirrors into which persons might look and see all that was before them in this life. If there were such a mirror, it would be a strange thing indeed to look into it and find out what was going to happen to-morrow, or next month, or next year, or twenty years hence. But, there never was any such mirror. As the apostle says, "We know not what shall be on the morrow." No mortal man can tell what will happen to him as he takes the very next step in life. Yet, this solemn sacrament is like such a magical mirror. We can look into it and see, clearly represented there, what will happen to us in the future, not of _this_ life indeed, but of the life to come. It leads our minds on to the marriage supper of the Lamb. And a voice from heaven declares--"Blessed are they who are called to the marriage supper of the Lamb." Rev. xix: 9. That marriage supper represents the highest joys of heaven. It gathers into itself all the glory and happiness that await us in the heavenly kingdom. And this sacramental service is the type or shadow of all the bliss connected with that great event in the future. If we are true and faithful partakers of this solemn sacrament--this memorial feast, we shall certainly be among the number of those whose unspeakable privilege it will be to sit down at the marriage supper of the Lamb, in heaven. There we shall be in the personal presence of Jesus, our glorified Lord. Our eyes "shall see the King in his beauty." And we shall see all his people too in the perfection of glory that will mark them there. And in happy intercourse with that blessed company we shall find all "the exceeding great and precious promises" of God's word fulfilled in our own personal experience. And then there is nothing that can sustain and comfort us under the many trials of this mortal life like the hope of sharing this joy with our blessed Lord, when he shall come in the glory of his heavenly kingdom. "The Hope of Glory." A Christian gentleman was in the habit of visiting, from time to time, a poor afflicted widow woman who lived in his neighborhood. She had once been very well off, and was the wife of a well-known and apparently successful merchant. But finally he failed in business and died soon after, leaving her alone in the world, and without anything to live on but what she could earn by her own labor. After awhile her health failed, and then she was entirely dependent for her support on the kindness of her Christian friends. But she was always cheerful and happy. "On going in to see her one day," says this gentleman, "I found, on talking with her, that she was feeling very comfortable in her mind. "'Tell me, my friend,' I asked, 'have you always felt as bright and cheerful as you seem to feel now?' "'O, no,' she replied, 'very far from it. When my husband died, and I was left alone in the world, I used to feel very sad and rebellious. Many a time I was so sorrowful and despairing as to be tempted to take away my own life. But, in the good providence of God, I was led to read the Bible, and to pray for help from above. I became a member of the church. But, for a while, I did not find much comfort in my religion. And the reason of it was that I did not have very clear views of Christ as my Saviour, and of the wonderful things he has promised to do for his people in the future. "'But, on one communion occasion, my minister preached on the words--"_Christ in you the hope of glory_." That was a blessed communion to me. I saw then, as I had never seen before, how that sacred and solemn service was intended by him to be to all his people, at one and the same time, the means of preserving in their minds the remembrance of the sufferings he has borne for them in the past, and also of keeping alive in their hearts the hope of sharing in the glory which he has prepared for them in the future. And I have never had any trouble in my mind since then. My communion seasons were always bright and blessed seasons to me as long as I was able to go to church. And though I can no longer go up to the sanctuary and partake of the bread and wine, "the outward and visible signs" made use of in the heavenly feast; yet, blessed be God's holy name, I can, and do partake in a spiritual manner of that which those signs represent. I feel and know what it is to have "Christ in me the hope of glory." And this "satisfies my longing, as nothing else can do." I find peace and comfort in simply "looking unto Jesus." I have had much outward trouble and affliction since then. I live alone. There is no one here to help me. Sometimes I have nothing to eat, and but little to keep me warm. You see me _sitting_ here now. Thus I have to spend my nights. My complaint is the dropsy, and this prevents me from lying down. _But I would not exchange my place as a forgiven sinner, with "Christ in me the hope of glory," for all the wealth and the honor that Queen Victoria could bestow upon me!_'" What a blessed Saviour Jesus is, who can thus spread the sunshine of his peace and hope through the hearts and homes of the poorest and most afflicted in the land! And thus, we have spoken of three good reasons, why all who love our Lord Jesus Christ should keep this solemn sacrament which he has ordained; we should do it because we see in it--_the word of his command--the memorial of his sufferings--and the hope of his glory_. And when we partake of this solemn ordinance ourselves, or see others partaking of it, how well we may say in the beautiful lines of Havergal, the English poetess: "Thou art coming! At thy table We are witnesses for this, While remembering hearts thou meetest, In communion closest, sweetest, Earnest of our coming bliss. Showing not thy death alone, And thy love exceeding great, But thy coming, and thy throne, All for which we long and wait. "O the joy to see thee reigning, Thee, our own beloved Lord; Every tongue thy name confessing, Worship, honor, glory, blessing, Brought to thee with glad accord, Thee our master and our Friend, Vindicated and enthroned; Unto earth's remotest end, Glorified, adored, and owned." "_THIS DO IN REMEMBRANCE OF ME_." ILLUSTRATIONS: THE WOMAN OF CANAAN Then Jesus went thence, and departed into the coasts of Tyre and Sidon. And, behold, a woman of Canaan came out of the same coasts, and cried unto him, saying, Have mercy on me, O Lord, _thou_ son of David; my daughter is grievously vexed with a devil. But he answered her not a word. And his disciples came and besought him, saying, Send her away; for she crieth after us. But he answered and said, I am not sent but unto the lost sheep of the house of Israel. Then came she and worshipped him, saying, Lord, help me. But he answered and said, It is not meet to take the children's bread, and to cast _it_ to dogs. And she said, Truth, Lord: yet the dogs eat of the crumbs which fall from their masters' table. Then Jesus answered and said unto her, O woman, great _is_ thy faith: be it unto thee even as thou wilt. And her daughter was made whole from that very hour.--_St. Matt. xv: 21-28_. * * * * * _NOTE BY THE ARTIST_ _The picture illustrates the scenery and gardens in the neighborhood of Beyrout, which lies on the coast at the foot of Lebanon and within the Syro-Phoenician border._ SIMON PETER'S FAITH IN CHRIST When Jesus came into the coasts of Cæsarea Philippi, he asked his disciples, saying, Whom do men say that I the Son of man am? And they said, Some _say that thou art_ John the Baptist: some, Elias; and others, Jeremias, or one of the prophets. He saith unto them, But whom say ye that I am? And Simon Peter answered and said, Thou art the Christ, the Son of the living God. And Jesus answered and said unto him, Blessed art thou, Simon Bar-jona: for flesh and blood hath not revealed _it_ unto thee, but my Father which is in heaven. And I say also unto thee, That thou art Peter, and upon this rock I will build my church; and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it. And I will give unto thee the keys of the kingdom of heaven: and whatsoever thou shalt bind on earth shall be bound in heaven: and whatsoever thou shalt loose on earth shall be loosed in heaven. Then charged he his disciples that they should tell no man that he was Jesus the Christ.--_St. Matt, xvi: 13-20_. * * * * * _NOTE BY THE ARTIST_ _The site of Cæsarea Philippi is one of the loveliest spots in Northern Palestine. On ground carpeted with an infinite variety of wild flowers, the traveller rests in the grateful shade of oak and mulberry, olive and fig tree. The sound of many waters is heard on all sides as they hasten from the adjacent slopes of Herman to join the head waters of Jordan, bursting in strength from a cavern at the foot of a mighty cliff. Hither, with his handful of followers, came Jesus, weary and in deep depression of spirit, a fugitive from his own people, who had finally rejected him; and here, in reply to searching and anxious enquiry, "Whom say ye that I am?" he received from Simon Peter the memorable confession, "Thou art the Christ, the Son of the living God_." THE TRANSFIGURATION OF CHRIST And after six days Jesus taketh Peter, James, and John his brother, and bringeth them up into an high mountain apart. And was transfigured before them: and his face did shine as the sun, and his raiment was white as the light. And, behold, there appeared unto them Moses and Elias talking with him. Then answered Peter, and said unto Jesus, Lord, it is good for us to be here: if thou wilt, let us make here three tabernacles; one for thee, and one for Moses, and one for Elias. While he yet spake, behold, a bright cloud overshadowed them: and behold a voice out of the cloud which said, This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased; hear ye him. And when the disciples heard _it_, they fell on their face, and were sore afraid. And Jesus came and touched them, and said, Arise, and be not afraid. And when they had lifted up their eyes, they saw no man, save Jesus only.--_St. Matt, xvii: 1--8_. * * * * * _NOTE BY THE ARTIST_ _From the days of St. Jerome, when pilgrims first began the attempt to identify sites hallowed by sacred events, Mount Tabor has, until recent years, been regarded as the Mount of the Transfiguration. But closer examination of the text and comparison of dates, and the fact that Tabor itself was at that time the site of a fortified town containing a Roman garrison, combine in this instance to discredit tradition. One of the spurs of Herman must therefore be the alternative and more probable scene of the Transfiguration; the seclusion of this district of mountain, valley, and woodland providing opportunity for contemplation, and preparation for the end which was now imminent, "the decease which Jesus was to accomplish at Jerusalem"_. JESUS HEALETH A LUNATIC And it came to pass, that on the next day, when they were come down from the hill, much people met him. And, behold, a man of the company cried out, saying, Master, I beseech thee, look upon my son: for he is mine only child. And, lo, a spirit taketh him, and he suddenly crieth out; and it teareth him that he foameth again, and bruising him hardly departeth from him. And I besought thy disciples to cast him out; and they could not. And Jesus answering said, O faithless and perverse generation, how long shall I be with you, and suffer you? Bring thy son hither. And as he was yet a coming, the devil threw him down, and tare _him_. And Jesus rebuked the unclean spirit, and healed the child, and delivered him again to his father.--_St. Luke ix: 37-42_. * * * * * _NOTE BY THE ARTIST_ _The picture gives an average representation of the outskirts of a village in Northern Palestine, with its sordid, untidy, mud-built houses, on the roofs of which are seen the reed booths or_ Succôth, _occupied by the inhabitants during the oppressive heats of summer. The snow-capped ridge of Hermon is indicated in the distance_. LET HE WHO IS WITHOUT SIN AMONG YOU Now about the midst of the feast Jesus went up into the temple, and taught. And the Jews marvelled, saying, How knoweth this man letters, having never learned? Jesus answered them, and said, My doctrine is not mine, but his that sent me. And the scribes and Pharisees brought unto him a woman ...; and when they had set her in the midst. They say unto him, ... Moses in the law commanded us, that such should be stoned: but what sayest thou? This they said, tempting him, that they might have to accuse him. But Jesus stooped down, and with _his_ finger wrote on the ground, _as though he heard them not_. So when they continued asking him, he lifted up himself, and said unto them, He that is without sin among you, let him first cast a stone at her. And again he stooped down, and wrote on the ground. And they which heard _it_, being convicted by _their own_ conscience, went out one by one, beginning at the eldest, _even_ unto the last: and Jesus was left alone, and the woman standing in the midst. When Jesus had lifted up himself, and saw none but the woman, he said unto her, Woman, where are those thine accusers? hath no man condemned thee? She said, No man, Lord. And Jesus said unto her, Neither do I condemn thee: go, and sin no more.--_St. John vii: 14-16; viii: 3-11._ * * * * * _NOTE BY THE ARTIST_ _The scene is represented as taking place in one of the great cloisters or porticoes which surrounded the Temple courts, and which like the Forum of Rome, and "Paul's Wall" in Elizabethan, London, served the purpose of a public promenade and place of meeting. These porticoes were of magnificent construction and proportions, the Stoa Basilica alone, upon the south side, with its quadruple colonnade of one hundred and sixty-two pillars, covering a great area. The Eastern Cloister, known as "Solomon's Porch," was probably so-called as having been erected upon the site of a similar construction in the first Temple_. ONE OF TEN LEPERS CURED IS GRATEFUL And it came to pass, as he went to Jerusalem, that he passed through the midst of Samaria and Galilee. And as he entered into a certain village, there met him ten men that were lepers, which stood afar off. And they lifted up _their_ voices, and said, Jesus, Master, have mercy on us. And when he saw _them_, he said unto them, Go shew yourselves unto the priests. And it came to pass, that, as they went, they were cleansed. And one of them, when he saw that he was healed, turned back, and with a loud voice glorified God. And fell down on _his_ face at his feet, giving him thanks: and he was a Samaritan. And Jesus answering said, Were there not ten cleansed? but where _are_ the nine? There are not found that returned to give glory to God, save this stranger. And he said unto him, Arise, go thy way: thy faith hath made thee whole.--_St. Luke xvii: II--19._ * * * * * _NOTE BY THE ARTIST_ _The town of Cana in Galilee, with its background of low hills, as seen from the Nazareth Road, supplies a landscape setting for this picture. The ingratitude of the nine lepers no doubt added to our Lord's sorrow just now at the growing influence of the opposition of his enemies_. JESUS, MARTHA, MARY, AND LAZARUS Now it came to pass, as they went, that he entered into a certain village: and a certain woman named Martha received him into her house. And she had a sister called Mary, which also sat at Jesus' feet, and heard his word. But Martha was cumbered about much serving, and came to him, and said, Lord, dost thou not care that my sister hath left me to serve alone? bid her therefore that she help me. And Jesus answered and said unto her, Martha, Martha, thou art careful and troubled about many things. But one thing is needful: and Mary hath chosen that good part, which shall not be taken away from her.--_St. Luke x: 38-42._ * * * * * _NOTE BY THE ARTIST_ _Bethany is situated on the southern slope of the Mount of Olives, about two miles from Jerusalem. The house of his friends, Martha, Mary, and Lazarus, the only place which, during the latter part of his ministry, Jesus could call a home, was probably that of people in easy circumstances, and as such is here represented. In the vineyards of Palestine the vine is cultivated bushlike on the ground; but in gardens, the plant is occasionally trained erect, as in Europe and America, or, as in the present instance, for the purposes of shade, upon a pergola. In the middle of the village of Bethany are the ruins of an important house. Here some years ago a French explorer discovered on the base the remains of an ancient chapel This seems to point with probability to a valid tradition of the site of the house of Martha, Mary, and Lazarus_. JESUS BLESSETH LITTLE CHILDREN And they brought young children to him, that he should touch them: and _his_ disciples rebuked those that brought _them_. But when Jesus saw _it_, he was much displeased, and said unto them, Suffer the little children to come unto me, and forbid them not: for of such is the kingdom of God. Verily I say unto you, Whosoever shall not receive the kingdom of God as a little child, he shall not enter therein. And he took them up in his arms, put _his_ hands upon them, and blessed them.--_St. Mark x: 13-16._ * * * * * _NOTE BY THE ARTIST_ _In the Hebrew Bible--the Talmud--it is stated that, according to pious custom, parents brought their little children to the synagogue that they might receive the benefit of the prayers and blessings of the elders. Rabbis also, of recognized sanctity, were frequently appealed to in a like manner; and his fame as a prophet and benefactor having preceded him into Peraea, infants were now brought to Jesus, that he might lay his hands upon them in supplication and blessing. The architectural setting of the picture is adapted from that of a small square near the Damascus Gate of Jerusalem. This kindly and gentle act of our Lord has been of incalculable consequence to the life of children in the development of Christian civilization._ THE RESURRECTION OF LAZARUS, FOUR DAYS DEAD Then said Jesus unto them plainly, Lazarus is dead. And I am glad for your sakes that I was not there, to the intent ye may believe; nevertheless let us go unto him. Jesus therefore again groaning in himself cometh to the grave. It was a cave, and a stone lay upon it. Jesus said, Take ye away the stone. Martha, the sister of him that was dead, saith unto him, Lord, by this time he stinketh: for he hath been _dead_ four days. Jesus saith unto her, Said I not unto thee, that, if thou wouldest believe, thou shouldest see the glory of God? Then they took away the stone _from the place_ where the dead was laid. And Jesus lifted up _his_ eyes, and said, Father, I thank thee that thou hast heard me. And I knew that thou hearest me always: but because of the people which stand by I said _it_, that they may believe that thou hast sent me. And when he thus had spoken, he cried with a loud voice, Lazarus, come forth. And he that was dead came forth.--_St. John xi: 14., 15,38-44._ * * * * * _NOTE BY THE ARTIST_ _The painting illustrates a form of rock-cut tomb which, though not so common as others in the neighborhood of Jerusalem, is nevertheless selected as being in accordance with the description of what took place in the present instance. It is obviously the type of tomb which is referred to on a subsequent occasion, and explains the meaning of "the stone rolled away from the sepulchre" The entrance of the tomb is at the bottom of a flight of steps, and is covered by a disc-shaped stone, like a mill-stone, which can be rolled back into a slot cut in the rock for its reception. (The kneeling man in the background has apparently just performed this duty?) The entrance is closed by rolling the stone forward, dropping a small block behind it to prevent its recession, and finally by covering the before-mentioned slot with a slab, which, being cemented down, the tomb is "sealed."_ CONVERSION OF ZACCHAEUS, A PUBLICAN And _Jesus_ entered and passed through Jericho. And, behold, _there was_ a man named Zacchæus, which was the chief among the publicans, and he was rich. And he sought to see Jesus who he was; and could not for the press, because he was little of stature. And he ran before, and climbed up into a sycomore tree to see him: for he was to pass that _way_. And when Jesus came to the place, he looked up, and saw him, and said unto him, Zacchæus, make haste, and come down; for to day I must abide at thy house. And he made haste, and came down, and received him joyfully. And when they saw _it_, they all murmured, saying, That he was gone to be guest with a man that is a sinner. And Zacchæus stood, and said unto the Lord: Behold, Lord, the half of my goods I give to the poor; and if I have taken any thing from any man by false accusation, I restore _him_ fourfold. And Jesus said unto him, This day is salvation come to this house, forsomuch as he also is a son of Abraham. For the Son of man is come to seek and to save that which was lost.--_St. Luke xix: 1-10_. * * * * * _NOTE BY THE ARTIST_ _The sycomore tree referred to in the text is a species of fig bearing small, coarse fruit, which is used as food only in cases of necessity. Although occasionally of great size, the tree is easily climbed, as the trunk is short, and the branches are numerous and wide spreading. Jericho, rebuilt by Herod, was a somewhat fashionable town. To signalize the despised tax-gatherer in such a way was to teach a permanent lesson of absolute unworldliness_. JESUS RESTORETH SIGHT TO BARTIMAEUS And they came to Jericho: and as he went out of Jericho with his disciples and a great number of people, blind Bartimaeus, the son of Timaeus, sat by the highway side begging. And when he heard that it was Jesus of Nazareth, he began to cry out, and say, Jesus, _thou_ son of David, have mercy on me. And many charged him that he should hold his peace: but he cried the more a great deal, _Thou_ son of David, have mercy on me. And Jesus stood still, and commanded him to be called. And they called the blind man, saying unto him, Be of good comfort, rise; he calleth thee. And he, casting away his garment, rose, and came to Jesus. And Jesus answered and said unto him, What wilt thou that I should do unto thee? The blind man said unto him, Lord, that I might receive my sight. And Jesus said unto him, Go thy way; thy faith hath made thee whole. And immediately he received his sight, and followed Jesus in the way.--_St. Mark x: 4.6--52._ * * * * * _NOTE BY THE ARTIST_ _The site of Jericho is still an oasis in the surrounding desert, but neither its fertility nor its dimensions bear comparison with those which it attained in former days; and hardly a tree remains of the celebrated groves of balsam, spice, and fruit-bearing trees, and the palms which earned for Jericho the title of "The City of the Palm Trees," and which made its neighboring plain the garden of Palestine--the "divine district" as Joseph us calls it. This fertility was owing entirely to skilful irrigation, traces of no less than twelve aqueducts having been discovered. No class of sufferers more frequently claimed and obtained from Jesus the exercise of his compassion and healing power than that represented by blind Bartimaus. The malady of blindness is grievously common in Palestine, the proportion of those thus afflicted being one in every hundred of the population, whereas in Europe the proportion is only one in a thousand_. CHRIST'S TRIUMPHAL ENTRY INTO JERUSALEM And when they drew nigh unto Jerusalem, and were come to Bethphage, unto the mount of Olives, then sent Jesus two disciples. Saying unto them, Go into the village over against you, and straightway ye shall find an ass tied, and a colt with her: loose _them_, and bring _them_ unto me. And if any _man_ say ought unto you, ye shall say, The Lord hath need of them; and straightway he will send them. All this was done, that it might be fulfilled which was spoken by the prophet. And the disciples went, and did as Jesus commanded them. And brought the ass, and the colt, and put on them their clothes, and they set _him_ thereon. And a very great multitude spread their garments in the way; others cut down branches from the trees, and strawed _them_ in the way. And the multitudes that went before, and that followed, cried, saying, Hosanna to the son of David: Blessed _is_ he that cometh in the name of the Lord; Hosanna in the highest. And when he was come into Jerusalem, all the city was moved, saying, Who is this? And the multitude said, This is Jesus the prophet of Nazareth of Galilee.--_St. Matt, xxi: 1-4., 6-11_. * * * * * _NOTE BY THE ARTIST_ _Had Jesus omitted to command to bring its mother along with the colt, upon which he elected to ride, his disciples would probably have brought her as a matter of course. It is the custom of the country; and as journeys are accomplished at a walking pace, mares and she-asses are frequently accompanied by their foals. It may be noted that in this picture one of the gates of Hebron does duty for that through which Jesus makes his triumphal entry into Jerusalem; the former being suggestive of far greater antiquity than any which are to be found at the present day in Jerusalem itself_. CHRIST AVOUCHETH HIS AUTHORITY And he taught daily in the temple. But the chief priests and the scribes and the chief of the people sought to destroy him. And could not find what they might do: for all the people were very attentive to hear him. And it came to pass, _that_ on one of those days, as he taught the people in the temple, and preached the gospel, the chief priests and the scribes came upon _him_ with the elders. And spake unto him, saying, Tell us, by what authority doest thou these things? or who is he that gave thee this authority? And he answered and said unto them, I will also ask you one thing; and answer me: The baptism of John, was it from heaven, or of men? And they reasoned with themselves, saying, If we shall say, From heaven; he will say, Why then believed ye him not? But and if we say, Of men; all the people will stone us: for they be persuaded that John was a prophet. And they answered, that they could not tell whence _it was_. And Jesus said unto them, Neither tell I you by what authority I do these things.--_St. Luke xix: 47, 48; xx: 1-8._ * * * * * _NOTE BY THE ARTIST_ _The occasion on which Jesus encountered for the last time the opposition of his priestly enemies to his teaching, and when, in the presence of the assembled multitudes, he exposed and denounced their hypocrisy, is supposed to take place in one of the great outer courts of the Temple, the buildings of which, although begun forty-six years previously, were at this time still unfinished, and were indeed never fully completed in accordance with their original design_. AT NIGHT, JESUS ABODE ON THE MOUNT OF OLIVES And in the day time he was teaching in the temple; and at night he went out, and abode in the mount that is called _the mount_ of Olives.--_St. Luke xxi: 37._ * * * * * _NOTE BY THE ARTIST_ _As we ascend towards sunset the slopes of Olivet, and pause to gaze on the scenes beneath, the panorama of the city presented to view is in its leading features essentially similar to that upon which the eyes of Jesus rested, when "at night he went out, and abode in the mount that is called the Mount of Olives" Yonder stands a temple within that sacred enclosure which, for well-nigh three thousand years, save for the period during which, "the abomination of desolation spoken of by Daniel the prophet stood in the Holy place," has been dedicated to the worship of Jehovah. The citadel of Jerusalem breaks the skyline where stood the tower of Hippicus, and to the left, against the setting sun, the cypresses in a monastery garden mark the spot once covered by the gardens of the palace of Herod. Siloam stands as of old on the hither side, overlooking the valleys of Hinnom and Kidron; while to-day, as in former times, the olive yards beneath and the trees around, might well give the name which it bears to the hill on which we stand._ JESUS WASHETH HIS DISCIPLES' FEET Now before the feast of the passover, when Jesus knew that his hour was come that he should depart out of this world unto the Father, having loved his own which were in the world, he loved them unto the end. And supper being ended, the devil having now put into the heart of Judas Iscariot, Simon's _son_, to betray him. Jesus knowing that the Father had given all things into his hands, and that he was come from God, and went to God. He riseth from supper, and laid aside his garments; and took a towel, and girded himself. After that he poureth water into a bason, and began to wash the disciples' feet, and to wipe _them_ with the towel wherewith he was girded. Then cometh he to Simon Peter: and Peter saith unto him, Lord, dost thou wash my feet? Jesus answered and said unto him, What I do thou knowest not now; but thou shalt know hereafter. Peter saith unto him, Thou shalt never wash my feet. Jesus answered him, If I wash thee not, thou hast no part with me. Simon Peter saith unto him, Lord, not my feet only, but also _my_ hands and _my_ head. Jesus saith to him, He that is washed needeth not save to wash _his_ feet, but is clean every whit: and ye are clean, but not all.--_St. John xiii: 1-10._ * * * * * _NOTE BY THE ARTIST_ _A dwelling house, claiming to be one of the most ancient in Jerusalem, supplied materials for the study of the "large upper room," represented in this and some other of the paintings. The general features of the chamber, with its arched ceiling and flattened dome, its_ leewans _(raised platform) and the entrance-passage of colored stones, where guests leave their foot-gear before stepping upon the mat-covered floor of the room, may, for the reasons adduced elsewhere, be accepted as typical of similar apartments of the period under consideration._ THE BETRAYAL FORETOLD AT THE SUPPER When Jesus had thus said, he was troubled in spirit, and testified, and said, Verily, verily, I say unto you, that one of you shall betray me. Then the disciples looked one on another, doubting of whom he spake. Now there was leaning on Jesus' bosom one of his disciples, whom Jesus loved. Simon Peter therefore beckoned to him, that he should ask who it should be of whom he spake. He then lying on Jesus' breast saith unto him, Lord, who is it? Jesus answered, He it is, to whom I shall give a sop, when I have dipped _it_. And when he had dipped the sop, he gave _it_ to Judas Iscariot, _the son_ of Simon. And after the sop Satan entered into him. Then said Jesus unto him, That thou doest, do quickly. Now no man at the table knew for what intent he spake this unto him. For some _of them_ thought, because Judas had the bag, that Jesus had said unto him, Buy _those things_ that we have need of against the feast; or, that he should give something to the poor. He then having received the sop went immediately out: and it was night.--_St. John xiii: 21-30._ * * * * * _NOTE BY THE ARTIST_ _Comment has already been made upon the custom prevailing at this time of reclining at meat. We are aware, from other sources of information, that in partaking of the Passover, the attitude of standing had, as a point of ritual, long been abandoned in favor of the recumbent posture, and this is directly evidenced by the words of the text (v: 23 and 25), which are only compatible with the supposition that on the present occasion the guest-chamber was furnished with couches which ran around the three sides of the table in the usual manner. Authorities differ as to which was regarded as the "highest seat" some maintaining that this was the outermost place on the right-hand couch; others, again, preferring the arrangement followed in the painting, where Jesus occupies the centre_. IN THE GARDEN OF GETHSEMANE Then cometh Jesus with them unto a place called Gethsemane, and saith unto the disciples, Sit ye here, while I go and pray yonder. And he took with him Peter and the two sons of Zebedee, and began to be sorrowful and very heavy. Then saith he unto them, My soul is exceeding sorrowful, even unto death: tarry ye here, and watch with me. And he went a little farther, and fell on his face, and prayed, saying, O my Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me: nevertheless not as I will, but as thou _wilt_. And he cometh unto the disciples, and findeth them asleep, and saith unto Peter, What, could ye not watch with me one hour? Watch and pray, that ye enter not into temptation: the spirit indeed _is_ willing, but the flesh _is_ weak. He went away again the second time, and prayed, saying, O my Father, if this cup may not pass away from me, except I drink it, thy will be done. And he came and found them asleep again: for their eyes were heavy. And he left them, and went away again, and prayed the third time, saying the same words. Then cometh he to his disciples, and saith unto them, Sleep on now, and take _your_ rest: behold, the hour is at hand, and the Son of man is betrayed into the hands of sinners. Rise, let us be going: behold, he is at hand that doth betray me.--_St. Matt, xxvi: 36-46._ * * * * * _NOTE BY THE ARTIST_ _As the word Gethsemane means the "oil press" the "Garden" was in all probability an olive yard, whose actual site, though it cannot be determined with certainty, must have been in the immediate vicinity at least of the spot which age-long tradition indicates as the scene of the Agony. The great age of the trees in this enclosure has been urged in favor of the tradition, but it is fatal to their claim as witnesses, that Titus is known to have cut down, for military purposes, all the trees in the neighborhood of the besieged city. This site is now owned by the Russians who have turned it into a neat and trim garden, and built a bright new white church on the upper level with five large gilded bulbous domes_. THE ARREST OF JESUS Judas then, having received a band _of men_ and officers from the chief priests and Pharisees, cometh thither with lanterns and torches and weapons. Jesus therefore, knowing all things that should come upon him, went forth, and said unto them, Whom seek ye? They answered him, Jesus of Nazareth. Jesus saith unto them, I am _he_. And Judas also, which betrayed him, stood with them. As soon then as he had said unto them, I am _he_, they went backward, and fell to the ground.--Now he that betrayed him gave them a sign, saying, Whomsoever I shall kiss, that same is he: hold him fast. And forthwith he came to Jesus, and said, Hail, master; and kissed him. And Jesus said unto him, Friend, wherefore art thou come? Then came they, and laid hands on Jesus, and took him. And, behold, one of them which were with Jesus stretched out _his_ hand, and drew his sword, and struck a servant of the high priest's, and smote off his ear. Then said Jesus unto him, Put up again thy sword into his place: for all they that take the sword shall perish with the sword. Thinkest thou that I cannot now pray to my Father, and he shall presently give me more than twelve legions of angels? But how then shall the scriptures be fulfilled, that thus it must be? In that same hour said Jesus to the multitudes, Are ye come out as against a thief with swords and staves for to take me? I sat daily with you teaching in the temple, and ye laid no hold on me. But all this was done, that the scriptures of the prophets might be fulfilled. Then all the disciples forsook him, and fled.--_St. John xviii: 3-6; St. Matt, xxvi: 48-56._ * * * * * _NOTE BY THE ARTIST_ _Cunningly conceived indeed was that signal of the kiss; for in the very act of betrayal, Judas thus covered his own treachery; and, had the plot failed, it would even have appeared as if, when "all the disciples forsook him and fled" Judas alone had courage, in the hour of danger, to stand by and openly to acknowledge Jesus as his Master_. JESUS EXAMINED BY CAIAPHAS And they that had laid hold on Jesus led _him_ away to Caiaphas the high priest, where the scribes and the elders were assembled. But Peter followed him afar off unto the high priest's palace, and went in, and sat with the servants, to see the end. Now the chief priests, and elders, and all the council, sought false witness against Jesus, to put him to death. But found none: yea, though many false witnesses came, _yet_ found they none. At the last came two false witnesses, And said, This _fellow_ said, I am able to destroy the temple of God, and to build it in three days. And the high priest arose, and said unto him, Answerest thou nothing? what _is it which_ these witness against thee? But Jesus held his peace. And the high priest answered and said unto him, I adjure thee by the living God, that thou tell us whether thou be the Christ, the Son of God. Jesus saith unto him, Thou hast said: nevertheless I say unto you, Hereafter shall ye see the Son of man sitting on the right hand of power, and coming in the clouds of heaven. Then the high priest rent his clothes, saying, He hath spoken blasphemy; what further need have we of witnesses? behold, now ye have heard his blasphemy. What think ye? They answered and said, He is guilty of death.--_St. Matt, xxvi: 57--66._ * * * * * _NOTE BY THE ARTIST_ _The outward ceremonial of the hastily convoked and Irregular tribunal before which Jesus underwent the mockery of a trial was similar to that of the ancient Sanhedrim. The members sat on a semi-circular divan, the president in the centre, and a scribe at each extremity, who recorded the evidence and the decisions of the court. It may be noted, that while laws had been carefully formulated for the conduct of such trials, almost every one of them was flagrantly violated on the present occasion in order to ensure a pre-arranged condemnation. For example, these rules provided that witnesses should be summoned, and that an advocate should plead on behalf of the accused; and they forbade that criminal trials should be conducted at night, that condemnation should be pronounced on the day of trial or on a holy day; and, if the crime were capital, that execution should follow on the day of sentence_. JESUS IS THRICE DENIED BY PETER Now Peter sat without in the palace: and a damsel came unto him, saying, Thou also wast with Jesus of Galilee. But he denied before _them_ all, saying, I know not what thou sayest. And when he was gone out into the porch, another _maid_ saw him, and said unto them that were there, This _fellow_ was also with Jesus of Nazareth. And again he denied with an oath, I do not know the man. And after a while came unto _him_ they that stood by, and said to Peter, Surely thou also art _one_ of them; for thy speech betrayeth thee. Then began he to curse and to swear, _saying_, I know not the man. And immediately the cock crew. And the Lord turned, and looked upon Peter. And Peter remembered the word of the Lord, how he had said unto him, Before the cock crow, thou shalt deny me thrice. And he went out, and wept bitterly.--_St. Matt, xxvi: 69-74.; St. Luke xxii: 61, 62_. * * * * * _NOTE BY THE ARTIST_ _In the East, the houses of the great and official residences usually consist of a group of separate yet connected buildings, surrounding a quadrangular paved court planted with trees and flowering shrubs, and furnished in the centre with an open cistern or fountain. Such was probably the construction of the palace of the High Priest (Caiaphas), and, apparently, this open court, across which Jesus would be conducted to or from the hall of trial, was the place where bitterness was added to his sorrow in hearing himself denied by his friend--and that man who had been the first to profess belief in his Messiahship, and who, but a few brief hours before, had stoutly sworn to stand by him, even unto death_. 
12311	----	CHRIST THE WAY, THE TRUTH, AND THE LIFE. BY THE LATE REV. JOHN BROWN, MINISTER OF THE GOSPEL AT WAMPHRAY. WRITTEN DURING THE TIME OF HIS BANISHMENT IN HOLLAND. * * * * * "Jesus saith unto him, I am the way, and the truth, and the life: no man cometh unto the Father, but by me."--JOHN XIV. 6. * * * * * CONTENTS. * * * * * Dedication The Author to the Reader Recommendation CHAPTER I. Introduction, with some general observations from the cohesion. CHAPTER II. Of the words themselves in general. CHAPTER III. How Christ is the Way in general. "I am the Way." CHAPTER IV. How Christ is made use of for Justification as a Way. CHAPTER V. How Christ is to be made use of, as the Way, for sanctification in general. CHAPTER VI. How Christ is to be made use of, in reference to the killing and crucifying of the Old Man. CHAPTER VII. How Christ is to be made use of, in reference to growing in grace. CHAPTER VIII. How to make use of Christ for taking the guilt of our daily out-breakings away. CHAPTER IX. How to make use of Christ for cleansing of us from out daily spots. CHAPTER X. Some generals proposed. CHAPTER XI. More particularly in what respect Christ is called the Truth. CHAPTER XII. Some general uses from this useful truth, that Christ is the Truth. CHAPTER XIII. How to make use of Christ as the Truth, for growth in knowledge. CHAPTER XIV. How to make use of Christ, as Truth, for comfort, when truth is oppressed and borne down. CHAPTER XV. How to make use of Christ for steadfastness, in a time when truth is oppressed and borne down. CHAPTER XVI. How to make use of Christ as the Truth, when error prevaileth, and the spirit of error carrieth many away. CHAPTER XVII. How to make use of Christ as the Truth, that we may get our case and condition cleared up to us. CHAPTER XVIII. How we shall make use of Christ as the Truth, that we may win to right and suitable thoughts of God. CHAPTER XIX. "And the Life." How Christ is the Life. CHAPTER XX. Some general uses. CHAPTER XXI. How to make use of Christ as the Life, when the believer is so sitten-up in the ways of God, that he can do nothing. CHAPTER XXII. How Christ is to be made use of as our Life, in case of heartlessness and fainting through discouragements. CHAPTER XXIII. How to make use of Christ as the Life, when the soul is dead as to duty. CHAPTER XXIV. How shall the soul make use of Christ, as the Life, which is under the prevailing power of unbelief and infidelity. CHAPTER XXV. How Christ is made use of as the Life, by one that is so dead and senseless, as he cannot know what to judge of himself, or his own case, except what is naught. CHAPTER XXVI. How is Christ, as the Life, to be applied by a soul that misseth God's favour and countenance. CHAPTER XXVII. How shall one make use of Christ as the Life, when wrestling with an angry God because of sin? CHAPTER XXVIII. No man cometh to the Father but by me. CHAPTER XXIX. How should we make use of Christ, in going to the Father, in prayer, and other acts of worship? DEDICATION. * * * * * TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE AND RELIGIOUS LADY, THE LADY STRATHNAVER. MADAM, Jesus Christ himself being the chief corner-stone, in whom all the building fitly framed together, groweth unto an holy temple in the Lord; as it ought to be the principal concern of all who have not sitten down on this side of Jordan to satisfy their souls (once created for, and in their own nature requiring, in order to satisfaction, spiritual, immortal, and incorruptible substance,) with husks prepared for beasts, to be built in and upon this corner-stone, for an habitation of God, through the Spirit; so it ought to be the main design and work of such as would be approven of God as faithful labourers and co-workers with God, to be following the example of him who determined not to know anything among those he wrote unto, save Jesus Christ and him crucified. O! this noble, heart-ravishing, soul-satisfying mysterious theme, Jesus Christ crucified, the short compend of that uncontrovertibly great mystery of godliness, God manifest in the flesh, justified in the spirit, seen of angels, preached unto the Gentiles, believed on in the world, received up into glory, wherein are things the angels desire to look unto, or with vehement desire bend, as it were, their necks, and bow down their heads to look and peep into, (as the word used, I Pet. i. 12, importeth) is a subject for angelical heads to pry into, for the most indefatigable and industrious spirits to be occupied about. The searching into, and studying of this one truth, in reference to a closing with it as our life, is an infallible mark of a soul divinely enlightened, and endued with spiritual and heavenly wisdom; for though it be unto the Jews a stumbling-block, and to the Greeks foolishness, yet unto them who are called, it is Christ the power of God, and the wisdom of God, because the foolishness of God is wiser than men, and the weakness of God is stronger than men. O what depths of the manifold wisdom of God are there in this mystery! The more it is preached, known, and believed aright, the more it is understood to be beyond understanding, and to be what it is--a mystery. Did ever any preacher or believer get a broad look of this boundless ocean, wherein infinite wisdom, love that passeth all understanding, grace without all dimensions, justice that is admirable and tremendous, and God in his glorious properties, condescensions, high and noble designs, and in all his perfections and virtues, flow over all banks; or were they ever admitted to a prospect hereof in the face of Jesus Christ, and were not made to cry out, O the depth and height, the breadth and length! O the inconceivable, and incomprehensible boundlessness of all infinitely transcendent perfections! Did ever any with serious diligence, as knowing their life lay in it, study this mysterious theme, and were not in full conviction of soul, made to say, the more they promoved in this study, and the more they descended in their divings into this depth, or soared upward in their mounting speculations in this height, they found it the more an unsearchable mystery! The study of other themes (which, alas! many who think it below them to be happy, are too much occupied in) when it hath wasted the spirits, wearied the mind, worn the body, and rarified the brain to the next degree unto a distraction, what satisfaction can it give as to what is attained, or encouragement as to future attainments? And when, as to both these, something is had, and the poor soul puffed up with an airy and fanciful apprehension of having obtained some great thing, but in truth a great nothing, or a nothing pregnant with vanity and vexation of spirit, foolish twins causing no gladness to the father, "for he that increaseth knowledge increaseth sorrow," Eccles. i. 18. What peace can all yield to a soul reflecting on posting away time, now near the last point, and looking forward to endless eternity? Oh the thoughts of time wasted with, and fair opportunities of good lost by the vehement pursuings and huntings after shadows and vanities, will torment the soul by assaulting it with piercing convictions of madness and folly, in forsaking all to overtake nothing; with dreadful and soul-terrifying discourses of the saddest of disappointments, and with the horror of an everlasting and irrecoverable loss. And what hath the laborious spirit then reaped of all the travail of his soul, when he hath lost it? But, on the other hand, O what calmness of mind, serenity of soul, and peace of conscience, because of the peace of God which passeth all understanding, will that poor soul look back, when standing on the border of eternity, on the bygone days or hours it spent in seeking after, praying and using all appointed means for some saving acquaintance with, and interest in this only soul up-making, and soul-satisfying mystery; and upon its yielding up itself, through the efficacious operations of the Spirit of grace, wholly, without disputing, unto the powerful workings of this mystery within; and in becoming crucified with Christ, and living through a crucified Christ's living in it, by his Spirit and power. And with what rejoicing of heart, and glorious singing of soul, will it look forward to eternity, and its everlasting abode in the prepared mansions, remembering that there its begun study will be everlastingly continued, its capacity to understand that unsearchable mystery will be inconceivably greater; and the spiritual, heavenly and glorious joy, which it will have in that practical reading its divinity without book of ordinances, will be its life and felicity for ever? And what peace and joy in the Holy Ghost, what inward inexpressible quiet and contentment of mind will the soul enjoy in dwelling on these thoughts, when it shall have withal the inward and well-grounded persuasion of its right through Christ, to the full possession of that all which now it cannot conceive, let be comprehend; the foretastes whereof filleth it with joy unspeakable and full of glory, and the hope of shortly landing there, where it shall see and enjoy, and wonder and praise, and rest in this endless and felicitating work, making it to sing while passing through the valley and shadow of death? O if this were believed! O that we were not drunk to a distraction and madness, with the adulterous-love of vain and airy speculations, to the postponing, if not utter neglecting, of this main and only up-making work, of getting real acquaintance with, and a begun possession of this mystery in our souls, Christ, the grand mystery, formed within us, living and working within us by his Spirit, and working us up into a conformity unto, and an heart-closing with God manifested in the flesh, that we may find in experience, or at least in truth and reality, have a true transumpt of that gospel mystery in our souls! Oh, when shall we take pleasure in pursuing after this happiness that will not flee from us, but is rather pursuing us! when shall we receive with joy and triumph, this King of glory that is courting us daily, and is seeking access and entry into our souls! Oh, why cry we not out in the height of the passion of spiritual longing and desire, O come Lord Jesus, King of glory, with thine own key, and open the door, and enlarge and dilate the chambers of the soul, that thou may enter and be entertained as the King of glory, with all thy glorious retinue, to the ennobling of my soul, and satisfying of all the desires of that immortal spark? Why do we not covet after this knowledge which hath a true and firm connexion with all the best and truly divine gifts. O happy soul that is wasted and worn to a shadow, if that could be, in this study and exercise, which at length will enliven, and, as it were, bring in a new heavenly and spiritual soul into the soul, so that it shall look no more like a dead dis-spirited thing out of its native soil and element, but as a free, elevated, and spiritualized spirit, expatiating itself and flying abroad in the open air of its own element and country. O happy day, O happy hour that is really and effectually spent in this employment! What would souls, swimming in this ocean of pleasures and delights care for? Yea, with what abhorrency would they look upon the bewitching allurements of the purest kind of carnal delights, which flow from the mind's satisfaction in feeding on the poor apprehensions, and groundlessly expected comprehensions of objects, suited to its natural genius and capacity? O what a more hyperbolical exceeding and glorious satisfaction hath a soul in its very pursuings after (when it misseth and cannot reach) that which is truly desirable! How doth the least glimpse through the smallest cranie, of this glorious and glorifying knowledge of God in Christ, apprehended by faith, raise up the soul to that pitch of joy and satisfaction which the knowledge of natural things, in its purest perfection, shall never be able to cause; and to what a surmounting measure of this joy and contentation will the experiencing and feeling, by spiritual sense, the sweet and relish of this captivating, and transcendently excellent knowledge raise the soul unto? O must not this be the very suburbs of heaven to the soul! When the soul thus seeth and apprehendeth God in Christ, and that as its own God through Christ, (for as all saving knowledge draweth out the soul unto an embracing and closing with the object, so it bringeth in the object to the making up of the reciprocal union and in-being) it cannot but admire with exultation, and exult with admiration, at that condescendence of free grace that hath made it, in any measure, capable of this begun glory, and will further make it meet, by this begun glory, to be a partaker of the inheritance of the saints in light. And what will a soul that hath tasted of the pure delights of this river of gospel manifestations, and hath seen, with soul-ravishing delights, in some measure, the manifold wisdom of God wrapped up therein; and the complete and perfect symmetry of all the parts of that noble contexture, and also the pure design of that contrivance to abase man, and to extol the riches of the free grace of God, that the sinner, when possessed of all designed for him and effectuated in him thereby, may know who alone should wear the crown and have all the glory; what, I say, will such a soul see in another gospel (calculated to the meridian of the natural, crooked, and corrupt temper of proud men, who is soon made vain of nothing, which, instead of bringing a sinner, fallen from God through pride, back again to the enjoyment of him, through a Mediator, doth but foster that innate plague and rebellion, which and procured his first excommunication from the favour, and banishment out of the paradise of God,) that shall attract its heart to it, and move it to a compliance with it? When the poor sinner that hath been made to pant after a Saviour, and hath been pursued to the very ports of the city of refuge by the avenger of blood, the justice of God, hath tasted and seen how good God is, and felt the sweetness of free love in a crucified Christ, and seen the beauty and glory of the mystery of his free grace, suitably answering and overcoming the mystery of its sin and misery; O what a complacency hath he therein, and in the way of gospel salvation, wherein free grace is seen to overflow all banks, to the eternal praise of the God of all grace. How saltless and unsavoury will the most cunningly-devised and patched-together mode of salvation be, that men, studying the perversion of the gospel, and seeking the ruin of souls with all their skill, industry, and learning, are setting off with forced rhetoric, and the artifice of words of man's wisdom, and with the plausible advantages of a pretended sanctity, and of strong grounds and motives unto diligence and painfulness, to a very denying and renouncing Christian liberty, when once it is observed, how it entrencheth upon, and darkeneth lustre, or diminisheth the glory of free grace, and hath the least tendency to the setting of the crown on the creature's head, in whole or in part? The least perception, that hereby the sinner's song, "ascribing blessing, honour, glory, and power unto him that was slain, and hath redeemed them to God by his blood, out of every kindred, and tongue, and people, and nation; and hath made them, unto their God, kings and priests," shall be marred, will be enough to render that device detestable, and convince the soul, that it is not the gospel of the grace of God and of Christ, but rather the mystery of iniquity. What a peculiar savouriness doth the humbled believer find in the doctrine of the true gospel-grace, and the more that he be thereby made nothing, and Christ made all; that he in his highest attainments be debased, and Christ exalted; that his most lovely peacock feathers be laid, and the crown flourish on Christ's head; that he be laid flat, without one foot to stand upon, and Christ the only supporter and carrier of him to glory; that he be as dead without life, and Christ live in him, the more lovely, the more beautiful, the more desirable and acceptable is it unto him. O what a complacency hath the graced soul in that contrivance of infinite wisdom, wherein the mystery of the grace of God is so displayed, that nothing appeareth from the lowest foundation-stone to the uppermost cope-stone but grace, grace, free grace making up all the materials, and free grace with infinite wisdom cementing all? The gracious soul can be warm under no other covering but what is made of that web, wherein grace, and only grace, is both wooft and warp; and the reason is manifest, for such an one hath the clearest sight and discovery of his own condition, and seeth that nothing suiteth him and his case but free grace; nothing can make up his wants but free grace; nothing can cover his deformities but free grace; nothing can help his weaknesses, shortcomings, faintings, sins, and miscarriages but free grace. Therefore is free grace all his salvation and all his desire. It is his glory to be free grace's debtor for evermore; the crown of glory will have a far more exceeding and eternal weight, and be of an hyperbolically hyperbolic and eternal weight, and yet easily carried and worn, when he seeth how free grace and love hath lined it, and free grace and free love sets it on and keeps it on for ever; this makes the glorified saint wear it with ease, by casting it down at the feet of the gracious and loving purchaser and bestower. His exaltation is the saint's glory, and by free grace, the saints receiving and holding all of free grace, is he exalted. O what a glory is it to the saint, to set the crown of glorious free grace with his own hands on the head of such a Saviour, and to say, "Not unto me, not unto me, but unto thee, even unto thee alone, be the glory for ever and ever." With what delight, satisfaction, and complacency will the glorified saint, upon this account, sing the redeemed and ransomed their song? And if the result and effect of free grace will give such a sweet sound there, and make the glorified's heaven, in some respects, another thing, or at least, in some respect, a more excellent heaven than Adam's heaven would have been; for Adam could not have sung the song of the redeemed; Adam's heaven would not have been the purchase of the blood of God; nor would Adam have sitten with Christ Redeemer on his throne; nor would there have been in his heaven such rich hangings of free grace, nor such mansions prepared by that gracious and loving husband, Christ, who will come and bring his bought bride home with him. Seeing, I say, heaven, even upon the account of free grace, will have such a special, lovely, desirable, and glorious lustre, O bow should grace be prized by us now! How should the gospel of the grace of God be prized by us! What an antipathy to glory, as now prepared and dressed up for sinful man, must they shew, whose whole wits and parts are busied to darken the glory of that grace, which God would have shining in the gospel; and who are at so much pains and labour to dress up another gospel, (though the apostle hath told us, Gal. i. 7, that there is not another,) wherein gospel-grace must stand by, and law-grace take the throne, that so man may sacrifice to his own net, and burn incense to his own drag, and may, at most, be grace's debtor in part; and yet no way may the saved man account himself more grace's debtor, than the man was who wilfully destroyed himself in not performing of the conditions; for grace, as the new gospellers, or rather gospel-spillers mean and say, did equally to both frame the conditions, make known to the contrivance, and tender the conditional peace and salvation. But as to the difference betwixt Paul and Judas, it was Paul that made himself to differ, and not the free grace of God determining the heart of Paul by grace to a closing with and accepting of the bargain. It was not grace that wrought in him both to will and to do. It was he, and not the grace of God in him; what is more contradictory to the gospel of the grace of God? And yet vain man will not condescend to the free grace of God. Pelagianism and Arminianism needeth not put a man to much study, and to the reading of many books, to the end it may be learned, (though the patrons hereof labour hot in the very fires, to make their notions hang together, and to give them such a lustre of unsanctified and corrupt reason, as may be taking with such as know no other conduct in the matters of God,) for naturally we all are born Pelagians and Arminians. These tenets are deeply engraven in the heart of every son of fallen Adam. What serious servant of God findeth not this, in his dealing with souls, whom he is labouring to bring into the way of the gospel? Yea, what Christian is there, who hath acquaintance with his own heart, and is observing its biasses, and corrupt inclinations, that is not made to cry out, O wretched man that I am! who shall deliver me from these dregs of Pelagianism, Arminianism, and Jesuitism, which I find yet within my soul? Hence, it may seem no wonderful or strange thing (though, after so much clear light, it may be astonishing to think, that now, in this age, so many are so openly and avowedly appearing for this dangerous and deadly error,) to us, to hear and see this infection spreading and gaining ground so fast, there needeth few arguments or motives to work up carnal hearts to an embracing thereof, and to a cheerful acquiescing therein; little labour will make a spark of fire work upon gunpowder. And, methinks, if nothing else will, this one thing should convince us all of the error of this way, that nature so quickly and readily complieth therewith. For who, that hath an eye upon, or regard of such things, seeth not what a world of carnal reasonings, objections, prejudices, and scruples, natural men have in readiness against the gospel of Christ; and with what satisfaction, peace, and delight they reason and plead themselves out of the very reach of free grace; and what work there is to get a poor soul, in any measure wakened and convinced of its lost condition, wrought up to a compliance with the gospel-way of salvation? How many other designs, projects, and essays doth it follow, with a piece of natural vehemency and seriousness, without wearying, were it even to the wasting of its body and spirits, let be its substance and riches, before it be brought to a closing with a crucified Mediator, and to an accounting of all its former workings, attainments, and painful labourings and gain, as loss for Christ, and for the excellency of the knowledge of Christ, and as dung that it may win Christ, and be found in him, not having its own righteousness, which is of the law, but that which is through the faith of Christ, the righteousness which is of God by faith, Phil. iii. 7-9. And may it not seem strange, that now, after so many have found, through the grace of God, the sweet experience of the gracious workings of the gospel-grace of God upon their hearts, and so are in case, as having this witness within them, to give verdict against those assertions, yea, more, and many more than were in several ages before; yet Satan should become so bold as to vent these desperate opinions, so diametrically opposite to the grace of God declared in the gospel, and engraven in the hearts of many hundreds by the finger of God, confirming, in the most undoubted manner, the truth of the gospel doctrines. This would seem to say, that there are such clear sunshine days of the gospel, and of the Son of Man a-coming (and who can tell how soon this night shall be at an end?) that all these doctrines of nature shall receive a more conspicuous and shameful dash than they have received for these many ages. Hithertil when Satan raised up and sent forth his qualified instruments for this desperate work, God always prepared carpenters to fright these horns, and thus gospel truth came forth, as gold out of a furnace, more clear and shining: And who can tell but there may be a dispensation of the pure grace of God, in opposition to these perverting ways of Satan, yet to come, that, as to the measure of light and power, shall excel whatever hath been since the apostles' days. Even so, come, Lord Jesus. However, Madam, the grace of God will be what it is, to all the chosen and ransomed ones, they will find in it, which will make whatever cometh in competition therewith or would darken it, contemptible in their eyes: And happy they, of whom in this day wherein darkness covereth the earth, and gross darkness the people, it may be said, the Lord hath arisen upon them, and his glory hath been seen upon them: For whatever others, whose understanding is yet darkened, and they alienated from the life of God through the ignorance that is in them, because of the blindness of their hearts, imagine of the gospel-grace, and however they discern nothing of the heavenly and spiritual glory of the grace of God; yet they, being delivered or cast into the form and mould of the doctrine of the gospel which they have obeyed from the heart, through the powerful and irresistible efficacy of the mighty grace of God, have seen such an alluring excellency in that gracious contrivance of infinite wisdom, to set forth the unparallelableness of the pure grace of God, and are daily seeing more and more of the graciousness and wisdom of that heavenly invention, in its adequate suitableness to all their necessities, that as they cannot but admire and commend the riches of that grace that interlineth every sentence of the gospel, and the greatness of that love that hath made such a completely broad plaister to cover all their sores and wounds; so the longer they live, and the more they drink of this pure fountain of heavenly nectar; and the more their necessities press them to a taking on of new obligations, because of new supplies from this ocean of grace, the more they are made to admire the wisdom and goodness of the Author; and the more they are made to fall in love with to delight, and lose themselves in the thoughts of this incomprehensible grace of God; yea, and to long to be there, where they shall be in better case to contemplate, and have more wit to wonder at, and better dexterity to prize, and a stronger head to muse upon, and a more enlarged heart to praise for this boundless and endless treasure of the grace of God, with which they are enriched, through Jesus Christ. Sure, if we be not thus enamoured and ravished with it, it is because we are yet standing without, or, at most, upon the threshold and border of this grace; were we once got within the jurisdiction of grace, and had yielded up ourselves unto the power thereof, and were living and breathing in this air, O! how sweet a life might we have! What a kindly element would grace be to us! As sin had reigned unto death, even so grace should reign, through righteousness unto eternal life, by Jesus Christ our Lord, Rom. v. 21. Grace reigning within us through righteousness, would frame and fit our souls for that eternal life that is insured to all who come once under the commanding, enlivening, strengthening, confirming, corroborating, and perfecting power of grace. And seeking grace for grace, and so living, and walking, and spending upon grace's costs and charges; O how lively, and thriving proficients might we be! The more we spend of grace (if it could be spent) the richer should we be in grace. O what an enriching trade must it be to trade with free grace, where there is no loss, and all is gain, the stock, and gain, and all is insured; yea, more, labouring in grace's field would bring us in Isaac's blessing an hundred-fold. But, alas! it is one thing to talk of grace, but a far other thing to trade with grace. When we are so great strangers unto the life of grace, through not breathing in the air of grace, how can the name of the Lord Jesus be glorified in us, and we in him, according to the grace of our God, and the Lord Jesus Christ, Thess. i. 12. Consider we, what an affront and indignity it is unto the Lord dispensator of grace, that we look so lean and ill-favoured, as if there were not enough of the fattening bread of the grace of God in our Father's house, or as if the great Steward, who is full of grace and truth, were unwilling to bestow it upon us, or grudged us of our allowance, when the fault is in ourselves; we will not follow the course that wise grace and gracious wisdom hath prescribed; we will not open our mouth wide, that he might fill us; nor go to him with our narrowed or closed mouths, that grace might make way for grace, and widen the mouth for receiving of more grace; but lie by in our leanness and weakness. And, alas! we love too well to be so. O but grace be ill wared on us who carry so unworthily with it as we do; yet it is well with the gracious soul that he is under grace's tutory and care; for grace will care for him when he careth not much for it, nor yet seeth well to his own welfare; grace can and will prevent, yea, must prevent, afterward, as well as at the first; that grace may be grace, and appear to be grace, and continue unchangeably to be grace, and so free grace. Well is it with the believer, whom grace has once taken by the heart and brought within the bond of the covenant of grace; its deadliest condition is not desperate. When corruption prevaileth to such a height, that the man is given over for dead, there being no sense, no motion, no warmth, no breath almost to be observed, yet grace, when violently constrained by that strong distemper, to retire to a secret corner of the soul, and there to lurk and lie quiet, will yet at length, through the receiving influences of grace promised in the covenant, and granted in the Lord's good time, come out of its prison, take the fields, and recover the empire of the soul; and then the dry and withered stocks, when the God of all grace will be as dew unto Israel, shall blossom and grow as the lily, and cast forth his roots as Lebanon; his branches shall spread, and his beauty shall be as the olive-tree, and his smell as Lebanon. It is a happy thing either for church or particular soul to be planted in grace's sappy soil, they lie open to the warm beams of the Sun of Righteousness; and the winter blasts may be sharp and long; clouds may intercept the heat, and nipping frosts may cause a sad decay, and all the sap may return and lie, as it were, dormant in the root; yet the winter will pass, the rain will be over and gone, and the flowers will appear on the earth; the time of singing of birds will come, and the voice of the turtle will be heard in the land; then shall even the wilderness and solitary place be glad, and the desert shall rejoice and blossom as the rose, it shall blossom abundantly, and rejoice even with joy and singing; the glory of Lebanon shall be given unto it, the excellency of Carmel and Sharon, they shall see the glory of the Lord, and the excellency of our God. We wonder that 'tis not always hot summer days, a flourishing and fruitful season, with souls and with churches. But know we the thoughts of the Lord; see we to the bottom of the deep contrivance of infinite wisdom? Know we the usefulness, yea, necessity of long winter nights, stormy blasts, rain, hail, snow, and frost? Consider we, that our state and condition, while here, calleth for those vicissitudes, and requireth the blowing of the north as well as of the south winds? If we considered, how grace had ordered all things for our best, and most for the glory and exaltation of grace, we would sit down and sing under the saddest of dispensations, and living by faith and hope, we would rejoice in the confident expectation of a gracious outgate; for as long as grace predomineth (and that will be until glory take the empire) all will run in the channel of grace; and though now sense (which is oft faith's unfaithful friend) will be always suggesting false tales of God, and of his grace unto unbelief, and raising thereby discontents, doubts, fears, jealousies, and many distempers in the soul, to its prejudice and hurt, yet in end, grace shall be seen to be grace; and the faithful shall get such a full sight of this manifold grace, as ordering, tempering, timing, shortening, or continuing, of all the sad and dismal days and seasons that have passed over their own or their mother's head, that they shall see, that grace did order all, yea, every circumstance of all the various tossings, changes, ups and downs, that they did meet with. And O what a satisfying sight will that be, when the general assembly and church of the first-born, which are in-rolled in Heaven, and every individual saint, shall come together, and take a view of all their experience, the result of which shall be, grace began, grace carried on, and grace hath perfected all, grace was at the bottom of all? What shoutings, grace, grace unto it, will be there; when the head-stone shall be brought forth? What soul-satisfying complacency in, and admiration at all that is past, will a back-look thereat yield, when every one shall be made to say, grace hath done all well, not a pin of all the work of grace in and about me might have been wanted; now I see, that the work of God is perfect, grace was glorious grace, and wise grace, whatever I thought of it then. O what a fool have I been, in quarrelling at, and in not being fully satisfied with all that grace was doing with me? O how little is this believed now? In conscience, madam, that your ladyship (to me no ways known, but by a savoury report) shall accept of this bold address, I recommend your ladyship, my very noble lord your husband, and offspring, to the word of his grace, and subscribe myself, MADAM, Your and their servant in the gospel and the grace of God. JOHN BROWN. THE AUTHOR TO THE READER. CHRISTIAN READER,--After the foregoing address, I need not put thee to much more trouble: only I shall say, that he must needs be a great stranger in our Israel, or sadly smitten with that epidemic plague of indifferency, which hath infected many of this generation, to a benumbing of them, and rendering them insensible and unconcerned in the matters of God, and of their own souls, and sunk deep in the gulf of dreadful inconsideration, who seeth not, or taketh no notice of, nor is troubled at the manifest and terrible appearances of the inexpressibly great hazard, our all, as Christians in this life, is this day exposed into. I mean the mystery of the gospel of the grace of God, wherein the exceeding riches of his grace, in his kindness towards us, through Christ Jesus, hath been shown. We have enjoyed for a considerable time, a clear and powerful dispensation hereof, in great purity and plenty; but, alas! is it not manifest to all, that will not wilfully shut their eyes, that this mercy and goodness of God hath been wickedly abused, and the pure administration of his grace and love perfidiously sinned away, by this apostate generation. Are our spots this day the spots of his children? Are their fruits answerable to the Lord's pains and labour about us, to be seen even amongst the greatest of professors? Is there that gospel holiness, tenderness, watchfulness, growing in grace, and in the knowledge of Jesus Christ, that growing up in Christ, in all things that heavenly mindedness, that fellowship with the Father and with his Son Christ Jesus, and that conversation in heaven, that the dispensation of grace, we have been favoured with beyond many, and have been long living under, did call for at our hands? Alas! our grapes are but wild and stinking. Wherefore (and who can think it strange, if it be so?) the Lord seemeth to be about to contend with us, by covering our horizon with Egyptian darkness; many who would not receive the love of the truth, that they might be saved, being already given up to strong delusion, that they should believe a lie, and many more in hazard to be drawn aside to crooked paths, by men of corrupt minds, who have been, and are still busy to vent and spread abroad, with no little petulancy and confidence, damnable doctrines, to the perverting of the doctrine of the gospel of Jesus Christ, and to the subverting and overturning of the very foundations of our hope and assurance; and that in such a way, and by such means and stratagems, as seem to have wrath written upon them in legible letters; for the more plausible and taking a corrupt doctrine be, it is the more dangerous and judgment-like, and more are thereby in hazard to be deluded and drawn away. Nay (which is yet more terrible and dreadful) it is to be feared, that the jealous God, in his holy and righteous judgment, hath given a providential commission (to speak to) unto the seducing spirit, to persuade and prevail; for is not this the clear language of the present holy and righteous dispensations of God, and of the stupendously indifferent frame and disposition of the generality of men, called Christians, not only provoking God to spue them out of his mouth, but a disposing them also unto a receiving of whatsoever men, lying in wait to deceive, shall propose and obtrude? Alas! the clouds are not now a-gathering, but our horizon is covered over with blackness, and great drops are a-falling, that presage a terrible overflowing deluge of error, and apostacy from the truth and profession of the gospel of Jesus Christ, to be at hand, if the Lord wonderfully prevent it not. And behold (O wonderful!) the generality of professors are sleeping in security, apprehending no danger. Satan is more cunning now, than to drive men to Popery by rage and cruelty, (and yet what he may be permitted to do after this manner, who can tell?) or by openly pleading in his emissaries, for this abomination, (and yet even thus is he already prevailing with not a few) or to send forth his agents for Arminianism and Socinianism (though even this way too, he is too much prevailing.) But his main work now seemeth to be, to bring in another gospel, (and yet there is not another) or rather an antievangelic and antichristian delusory dream, overturning at once the whole gospel of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ; and for this end he employeth the Quakers, on the one hand, men of desperate and antievangelic principles, the very sink of all abominations, old and late, (as I shall show, if the Lord will continue health and strength, in an examination of their doctrine and principles, lately emitted by one Robert Barcley) and, on the other hand, men, (or moralists, if you will call them so) pleading for, and crying up an antievangelic holiness, a mere shadow without substance or reality; and that in place of Christ himself; and in order to the carrying on of this desperate design, the old dragon is employing men of seeming different principles and ways, whom, though their faces seem to look to contrary airths, yet he holdeth notwithstanding fast tied by their tails (as Samson's foxes were) that thereby, if the Lord permit it, he may, by the fire of enmity to the pure gospel of the grace of God, burning in their tails, cause a conflagration of that truth, wherein lyeth all our hope: For this new model of religion, that many are so busied about, is such as Pelagians, Arminians, Papists, Socinians, Quakers, yea Turks, and moral heathens; yea, and all who are enemies to, and not reconcilable with the true grace of God held forth in the gospel, will willingly admit of, and harmoniously agree in: A way which complyeth so well with proud self, and with the corrupt nature of man, that it is little wonder, if it have many abettors and admirers. I shall say no more of this; but only infer, That sure the consideration of this should move all, in whom is any thing of the zeal of God, and love to souls, their own and others', to appear in the defence of the gospel of our salvation, by all means incumbent to them, and possible for them; for if this citadel and stronghold, wherein our all, and the all of pure and true religion, lyeth, be blown up, we are gone; and indeed no less is intended by this antichristian and antievangelic enemy, than the utter subversion of true Christian religion. Who would not then be hereby alarmed, and upon their guard, when matters are at this pass? Should not all, who have any love to their own souls, any zeal for the glory of Christ, anointed of the Father to be our prophet, priest, and king; my desire to see the crown flourishing upon his head, and to have the gospel preserved pure and uncorrupted, be pleading with God by prayer, in the behalf of his Son's kingdom, crown, and glory; and wrestling with him till he were pleased to dispel these clouds, and prevent this black day: especially should they not be labouring to be acquainted, in truth and reality, with the gospel of Jesus Christ, that having the mysterious truths thereof imprinted on their souls, and their hearts cast into its mould, they may be preserved from the hurt of this deadly poison; for this, with a constant dependence upon, and use-making of Christ in all his offices, will prove the best preservative against this infection. The persuasion whereof did induce me to publish the following heads of some sermons, after they have been translated into Dutch, and published here: Knowing that they might be of no less use to the people of God in Britain and Ireland. I know not a more effectual mean to unstable souls from siding with and embracing every new notion; and from being carried about with every wind of doctrine, by the slight of men, and cunning craftiness, whereby they lye in wait to deceive; than to put them upon the real exercise of gospel godliness, and to the daily practice of the main and fundamental gospel work, of living by faith in Jesus Christ, and of growing up into him, in all things, who is the head, from whom the whole body fitly joined together and compacted, by that which every joint supplieth, according to the effectual working in the measure of every part, maketh increase of the body, unto the edifying of itself in love. Such, I am sure, as have thus learned the truth, as it is in Jesus, and are practising the same accordingly, will have an antidote within them against the strongest poison of these seducers, and a real answer to, and confutation of, all their subtile sophisms. The soul exercising itself into gospel godliness, will find work enough to take it wholly up; and find such a solid ground to stand upon; and see such a satisfying fulness, answering all its necessities and wants, and such a sure heart-quieting ground of peace, hope, and consolation in Jesus Christ, as that it will have no leisure, and small temptation to listen to seducing perverters, and no inclination to seek after empty cisterns. I know much may be desiderated in this following treatise, and many may have exceptions not without ground against it. Some may think it arrogancy, and too great confidence in me, to attempt the handling of such a mysterious and necessary part of Christian practice, wherein few, (if any, so far as I know,) have gone before, in direct handling of this matter, at least in this method and order, I mean that part which is about sanctification. Others may be displeased with the mean and low style; with my multiplying particulars, which might have been better and more handsomely couched under fewer heads, and with my unnecessary contracting of the whole into such a narrow bound, and other things of that kind; for which, and many other failings of the like nature and import, which may without any diligent search, be found in it, even by ordinary and unprejudiced readers; I shall not industriously labour to apologize, knowing that my very apology in this case, will need an apology; only I shall say this, that considering how the snare, which the vigilant and active enemy of our salvation, the devil, was laying by an unholy morality, did nearly concern all, and especially the meanest (for parts and experience) and less fixed Christians, I thought a discourse on such a subject as I judged most necessary at all times, and especially in such a day of hazard, should be framed to the capacity of one as well as another; the most understanding can receive benefit, by that which is calculated to the capacity of children, when these can reap little edification by what is suited to the palate of those; and the less experienced, or such as are of lower understanding, will be less able to draw a general to a particular; or to improve and so fully to comprehend one particular touched, as to be able thereby to understand and take in a like particular not mentioned; than such as have their senses more exercised, and are thereby in case to make a better improvement of what is but compendiously declared, when those must have the bread broken to their hand, or they shall receive but small edification thereby; and yet, I suppose, the judicious will observe some variety, smaller or greater, even where particulars seem to be, at the first view, most unnecessarily multiplied. I know, and willingly grant, (for it is obvious enough) that a discourse of this subject and matter, might have required a far larger volume; but then how should such have profited thereby, whom poverty might possibly have scared from buying; or the necessary affairs of their ordinary callings would have keeped from a diligent perusal of it? And I thought that neither of these should have been overlooked in this special or general design which I had before my eyes. One thing, as my answer to all, I shall but add; if hereby others whom the Lord hath more enabled with all necessaries for such a work, shall be hereby either instigated or encouraged to write upon this subject, (I mean mainly the last part thereof, touching the use-making of Christ in sanctification; for blessed be the Lord, many have been employed of the Lord to speak soundly and edifyingly unto the use-making of Christ as to righteousness and justification,) a full, plain, edifying and satisfying discovery of this necessary and important truth, viz. Christ made of God to us wisdom, righteousness, sanctification, and redemption. And withal, point out plainly and particularly the way how believers in all their particular and various exigencies may and should so make use of and apply that all fulness which is treasured up in the Head, for the benefit and advantage of the members of the mystical body, as they may not only theoretically see, but practically also experience this truth, that in him they are complete; and so they may be helped to understand how through the necessary and constant use-making of him, as all in all, they may grow up in him in all things. If this be, I say, done by any to better purpose, I shall think this my adventure not altogether fruitless, and in part at least excusable. As for thee, O Christian, whose instruction, edification, and confirmation in the faith of our Lord Jesus Christ, the faith which was once delivered unto the saints, I mainly intended in this undertaking, I have a few things to add: Know then, that there are certain men (as the Apostle Jude speaketh) crept in unawares, who were of old ordained to this condemnation, ungodly men, turning the grace of our God into lasciviousness, and denying the only Lord God, and our Lord Jesus Christ; for in these last days we see that these perilous times are come, (of which Paul advertised Timothy, 2 Tim. iii. 1, &c.) wherein men shall be lovers of their ownselves, covetous, boasters, proud, blasphemers, disobedient to parents, unthankful, unholy, without natural affection, truce-breakers, false accusers, (or make bates) incontinent, fierce, despisers of those that are good, traitors, heady, high-minded, lovers of pleasure more than lovers of God, having the form of godliness, but denying the power thereof--for of this sort are they which creep into houses, and lead captive silly women, laden with sins, led away with divers lusts, ever learning, and never able to come to the knowledge of the truth. And because it is so, he exhorteth to give diligence to make your calling and election sure, by giving all diligence to add to faith virtue, to virtue knowledge, and to knowledge temperance, and to temperance patience, and to patience godliness, and to godliness brotherly kindness, and to brotherly kindness charity, for if ye do these things, ye shall never fall. As the Apostle Peter assureth us, 2 Peter i. 5, 6, 7-10. For it is the elect who are secured from full and final defection and apostacy, Matth. xxiv. 24. Mark xii. 22. Rom. xi. 5, 6; ix. 11; viii. 33. Matth. xxiv. 31. Mark xiii. 27. And the promise of salvation is made to such as shall endure to the end. The crown is for the overcomers, and such as are faithful to the death, Matth. x. 22; xxiv. 13. Mark xiii. 13. Rev. ii. 10, 11, 17, 26, 27, 28; iii. 5, 12, 21. All which, and the like, are set down, that hereby his people might be rationally moved to a constant seriousness, in the working out of their own salvation, in fear and trembling; and the forewarnings given of the great difficulty of the reaching the end of our faith, the salvation of our souls, because of the many active, vigilant, indefatigable, subtile, and insinuating adversaries, who by good words and fair speeches, will readily deceive the hearts of the simple, and to awaken the more his people to be sober and vigilant, because their adversary the devil (who acteth and moveth his under agents, in their several modes, methods and motions, so as he may best, according to the various tempers, present dispositions, advantages or disadvantages of such as he intendeth to seduce, which he carefully studieth, and plyeth for this end, obtain his designed end, their ruin and destruction) as a roaring lion, walking about seeking whom he may devour. And this calleth them to haste out their slumber and security, who will be loath to miss his opportunity, surprise them to their great loss and disadvantage. It is, beloved, high time now to awake, to look about us, to consider where we are, upon what ground we stand, whether the enemy or we have the advantage, how and in what posture we are to rencounter with deceivers that seek to cheat us out of all our souls, and of the Lord our Righteousness, and draw us off the paths of life, that when we come to die (beside the unspeakably great loss we would thereby be at, even here, in missing the comfortable accesses to God through Jesus Christ the inflowings of grace and strength for spiritual duty through the Lord our strength; the sweet communications of peace and joy in the Holy Ghost, the shedding abroad of the love of God in our hearts by the Holy Ghost, which is given unto us, and the full assurance of hope through the Lord Jesus our hope) we might be frustrated of all our expectations; and find, that all that which men made us grip to, lay hold on, and lean unto, instead of Christ, was but a mere shadow, and a lie in our right hand, to the unexpressible grief, vexation, and sorrow of soul when all should end in a dreadful and horrible disappointment. But let us not think that our purposes, firm-like resolutions to adhere to the truth, and our present abhorrence at, and detestation of errors now broached, to the overturning the very foundations of true Christianity, will sufficiently guard us from, and make us proof against the shots and assaults of these crafty seducers. Nor think, that our learning and knowledge in the theory of the truth; nor our abilities to rencounter sophisters, will secure us from a fall; let us not think that the enemies are contemptible, and therefore we need be the less anxious, nor yet think that former experiences and through-bearings, in the like cases, will be a pillow, whereby we may now lay ourselves down to sleep. If we do, we shall certainly deceive ourselves, if all our strength and standing be in ourselves, and through ourselves; and if this be the ground of our hope, the righteous Lord in his holy justice, may give us up to be a prey. Peter's instance should never be forgotten by us; and such as tempt the Lord have no ground to expect his last issue. Our strength must be in Christ: to the rock of ages must we fly: to our chambers in him must we retire, and there must we hide ourselves: on Christ's lee-side can we only ride safe, and be free of the hazard of the storm. To him therefore must our recourse be daily, by new and fresh acts of faith in and through him and his influences, communicated according to the tenor of the covenant of grace, through faith eyeing the promiser, the promise, with the price purchasing, and so drawing and sucking light, direction, strength, stability, and what our present exigent calleth for, must we think to stand. And happy they who, conscious to themselves of their own weakness, and convinced of the insufficiency of all things within them, in godly fear hide themselves under the wings of the Almighty, and get in into this stronghold, resolving there to abide, and there to be secured from all their adversaries, within or without. These humble fearers may expect a safe and noble outgate; when more strong-like and more confident adventurers shall (being left to themselves, because trusting in themselves), shamefully fall, and be triumphed over by the enemy, to the grief of the godly, and for a snare to others. The best way then, to keep the faith of Christ, which many are now seeking to shake and to loose us from, is to be exercising the faith of Christ. The serious and upright practising of the gospel is the only best mean to keep thee firm in the profession of the gospel, when the gospel with thee is not a few fine notions in the brain; but is heavenly and necessary truth sunk into the heart, and living and acting there; it will keep thee, and thou wilt own it more firmly and steadfastly in a day of trial. Thy walking in Christ, and working and living, by him living in thee, will so root thee in the gospel truth, that enemies will pull in vain, when seeking to overthrow thee. The gospel of the grace of God received and entertained in thy soul in love, and constant suitable improvement, will fortify thee, and secure itself in thee, so that vehement blasts shall but contribute to its more fixed abode, and more fruitful actings in thee. Live up then to the gospel, and so be sure of it, and be safe in it. I mean, let Christ live in thee as thy all, and cast all thy care and cumber on him; lay all thy difficulties before him; lean all thy weight upon him; draw all thy necessities out of him: and undertake all thy duties in him; be strong in him, and in the power of his might; let him be thy counsellor, conductor, leader, teacher, captain, commander, light, life, strength, and all, so shall thou stand and have cause to glory, even in thine infirmities, for thou shalt find the power of Christ resting upon thee, and thou shalt have cause to say, therefore I take pleasure in infirmities, in reproaches, in necessities, in persecution, in distresses for Christ's sake; for when I am weak, then am I strong. Remember that great word, Phil. iv. 13, "I can do all things through Christ, which strengtheneth me." It hath been the usual and ordinary question of believers, How shall we make use of Christ for sanctification? To this great and important question, I, (though the meanest and most unfit for such a work, of all that God hath sent to feed his flock) have adventured or endeavoured at least, to give such as truly desire to cleanse themselves from all filthiness of the flesh and spirit, perfecting holiness in the fear of God, some satisfaction herein, laying before them some plain directions framed to their capacities, and suited to some of their most ordinary and usual causes; some whereof are more comprehensive, and others more particular, may be looked upon as exemplary instances, serving for other cases of the like nature; for hardly could every particular circumstantiate case be particularly spoken to, and some might judge that to be superfluous, if thou, in the light and strength of Christ, shalt really practise what is here pointed forth, I may be confident to say, thy labour shall not be in vain in the Lord, and thou shalt attain unto another sort of holiness than that which proud pretenders boast of, and shalt be far without the reach of that snare, which unstable souls are too readily entangled with. I mean, the plausible pretension of more than ordinary sanctity which yet is but forced, feigned, constrained, mostly external, and framed to cause admiration in beholders, whom they intend to make a prey of. This shall be no temptation to thee, who by experience findeth a more safe, satisfying, full, free, easy, pleasant and heartsome way of mortifying lusts, growing in grace, and in the knowledge of Jesus Christ, and so perfecting holiness, by running immediately to Christ, and by living in and upon him, who is made of God to us, wisdom, righteousness, sanctification and redemption. That the Lord may bless the same to thee, for this end, shall be, and is the desire and prayer of him who is, Thy servant in the work of the gospel, JOHN BROWN. RECOMMENDATION. CHRISTIAN READER, If thou answer this designation, and art really a partaker of the unction, which is the high import of that blessed and glorious name called upon thee, thine eye must affect thy heart, and a soul swelled with godly sorrow must at last burst and bleed forth at a weeping eye, while thou looks upon most of this licentious and loathsome generation, arrived at that height of prodigious profanity as to glory in their shame, and boast of bearing the badge and black mark of damnation. But, besides this swarm who savage it to hell, and make such haste hither, as they foam themselves into everlasting flames, carrying, under the shape and visage of men, as devils in disguise; the face of the church is covered with a scum of such, who are so immersed in the concerns of this life, and are so intense in the pursuit of the pleasures, gain, and honours thereof, as their way doth manifestly witness them to be sunk into the deep oblivion of God, and desperate inconsideration of their precious and immortal souls. But in the third place, besides these who are hurried into such a distraction with the cares of this life, that they, as natural brute beasts made to be destroyed, are never at leisure to consider either the nature and necessity of their noble souls, or to converse with the notion of a Deity. Thou may perceive a company of self-deceiving speculatists, who make broad the phylacteries of their garments, and boast of some high attainments in religion; yea, would have others look upon them as arrived at the very porch of heaven, and advanced to a high pitch of proficiency in the ways of God, because they can discourse a little of the mysteries of salvation, and without ever diving farther into the depth and true nature of religion, dream themselves into a consideration of being saints, and conclude themselves candidates for glory. This is that heart-moving object which presents itself to thy eye and observation this day. This is that deplorable posture, wherein thou mayest perceive most men at the very point of perishing eternally, who are within the pale of the visible church, some dancing themselves headlong in all haste into the lake of fire and brimstone, some so much concerned in things which have no connexion with their happiness, as to drop unconcernedly into the pit, out of which there is no redemption; and others dreaming themselves into endless perdition: and all of them unite in a deriding at, or despising the means used, and essays made, in order to their recovery. But if his servants, in following their work closely, seem to have gained a little ground upon men, and almost persuaded them to be Christians, Satan, to the end he may make all miscarry, and counterwork these workers together with God, and poison poor souls by a perversion of the gospel, beyond the power of an antidote, hath raised up, instigated and set on work a race of proud rationalists, for they are wiser than to class themselves amongst those poor fools, those base things, those nothings, to whom Christ is made all things, to whom Christ is made wisdom that he may be righteousness, sanctification, and redemption to them; nay, they must be wise men after the flesh, wise above what is written. A crucified Christ is really unto them foolishness and weakness, though the power of God and the wisdom of God: they will needs go to work another way; they will needs glory in his presence, and have a heaven of their own band-wind. O my soul, enter not into their secrets! and, O sweet Jesus, let thy name be to me, The Lord my righteousness; thou hast won it,--wear it; and gather not my soul with such who make mention of any other righteousness but of thine only! to bring in another gospel amongst us than the gospel of the grace of God. As they determine to know some other thing than Christ and him crucified; so with the enticing words of man's wisdom they bewitch men into a disobedience to the truth, setting somewhat else before them than a crucified Christ; and this they do, that they may remove men from those who call them into the grace of Christ, unto another gospel. A Christ, it is true; they speak of; but it is not the Christ of God, for all they drive at (O cursed and truly antichristian design!) is, that he may profit them nothing, while they model all religion according to this novel project of their magnified morality. This is that which gives both life and lustre to that image which they adore, to the Dagon after whom they would have the world wonder and worship. That there is such a moralizing or muddizing, if I may be for once admitted to coin a new word to give these men their due, of Christianity now introduced and coming in fashion, many of the late pieces in request do evince. Now that Christianity should moralize men above all things, I both give and grant; for he who is partaker of the divine nature, and hath obtained precious faith, must add virtue to his faith. But that it should be only conceived and conceited as an elevation of nature to a more clear light, in the matter of morality, wherein our Lord is only respected as an heavenly teacher and perfect pattern proposed for imitation, is but a proud, pleasing fancy of self-conceited, darkened, and deluded dreamers, robbing God of the glory of his mercy and goodness; our Lord Jesus Christ of the glory of his grace and merit. The spirit of the efficacy of his glorious and mighty operations; and themselves and their pilgrimages, who give them the hand as guides, of the comfort and fruit of all. It cannot escape thy observation, how busy Satan is this day, upon the one hand, to keep men, under the call of the gospel to give all diligence to make their calling and election sure, idle all the day, so that no persuasion can induce them to engage seriously to fall about a working out their own salvation in fear and trembling; and, on the other, equally diligent and industrious to divert men from trusting in the name of the Lord, and staying upon their God; setting them on work to go and gather fuel, and kindle a fire, and compass themselves about with sparks, that they may walk in the light of their own fire, and in the sparks that they have kindled, knowing well that they shall this way most certainly lose their toil and travel, and have no other reward at his hand of all their labour, but to lie down in everlasting sorrow, while the stout-hearted and far from righteousness and salvation, shall get their soul for a prey, and be made to rejoice in his salvation, and bless him who hath made them meet to be partakers of the inheritance of the saints in light. I am neither the fit person for so great an undertaking, nor do these limits, within which I must bound myself, permit me to expatiate in many notions about the nature of this excellent and precious thing, true gospel holiness. Oh! if, in the entry, I could on my own behalf and others, sob out my alas! from the bottom of my soul, because, be what it will, it is some other thing than men take it to be. Few habituate themselves to a thinking upon it, in its high nature, and soul enriching advantages, till their hearts receive suitable impressions of it, and their lives be the very transumpt of the law of God written in their heart; the thing, alas! is lost in a noise of words, and heap of notions about it; neither is it a wonder that men fall into mistakes about it, since it is only the heart possessed of it that is capable to understand and perceive its true excellency. But if it be asked what it is; we say, it may be shortly taken up, as the elevation and raising up of a poor mortal unto a conformity with God. As a participation of the divine nature, or as the very image of God stamped on the soul, impressed on the thoughts and affections, and expressed in the life and conversation; so that the man in whom Christ is formed, and in whom he dwells, lives, and walks, hath while upon the earth, a conversation in heaven; not only in opposition to those many, whose end is destruction, whose god is their belly, whose glory is in their shame, who mind earthly things; but also to those pretenders unto and personaters of religion, who have confidence in the flesh, and worship God with their own spirit, which in the matters of God is flesh and not spirit, and have somewhat else to rejoice in than in Christ Jesus, and a being found in him, not having their own righteousness. True gospel holiness, then, consists in some similitude and likeness to God, and fellowship with him founded upon that likeness. There is such an impression of God, his glorious attributes, his infinite power, majesty, mercy, justice, wisdom, holiness, and grace, &c., as sets him up all alone in the soul without any competition, and produceth those real apprehensions of him, that he is alone excellent and matchless. O how preferable doth be appear, when indeed seen, to all things! And how doth this light of his infinite gloriousness, shining into the soul, darken and obscure to an invisibleness all other excellencies, even as the rising of the sun makes all the lesser lights to disappear. Alas! how is God unknown in his glorious being and attributes! When once the Lord enters the soul, and shines into the heart, it is like the rising of the sun at midnight: all these things which formerly pretended to some loveliness, and did dazzle with their lustre, are eternally darkened. Now, all natural perfections, and moral virtues, in their flower and perfections, are at best looked upon as _aliquid nihil_. What things were formerly accounted gain and godliness, are now counted loss for the excellency of the knowledge of Christ Jesus the Lord, and the soul cannot only suffer the loss of them all without a sob, but be satisfied to throw them away as dung, that it may win him, and be found in him. Now, the wonder of a Deity, in his greatness, power, and grace, swallows up the soul in sweet admiration. O how doth it love to lose itself in finding here what it cannot fathom? And then it begins truly to see the greatness and evil of sin; then it is looked upon without the covering of pleasure or profit, and loathed as the leprosy of hell. Now the man is truly like God in the knowledge of good and evil, in the knowledge of that one infinite good, God; and in the knowledge of that one almost infinite evil, sin. This is the first point of likeness to him, to be conformed to him in our understanding, that as he knows himself to be the only self-being and fountain-good, and all created things in their flower and perfection, with all their real or fancied conveniences being compared with him, but as the drop of a bucket, or nothing; yea, less than nothing, vanity (which is nothing blown up, by the force or forgery of a vainly working imagination, to the consistence of an appearance), so for a soul to know indeed and believe in the heart, that there is nothing deserves the name of good besides God, to have the same superlative and transcendent thoughts of that great and glorious self-being God, and the same diminishing and debasing thoughts of all things and beings besides him. And that as the Lord seeth no evil in the creation but sin, and hates that with a perfect hatred, as contrary to his holy will; so for a soul to aggravate sin in its own sight to an infiniteness of evil, at least till it see it only short of infiniteness in this respect, that it can be swallowed up of infinite mercy. But whence hath the soul all this light? It owes all this, and owns itself as debtor for it to him, who opens the eyes of the blind. It is he who commands the light to shine out of darkness, who hath made these blessed discoveries, and hath given the poor benighted soul, the light of the knowledge of the glory of God, in the face of Jesus Christ. These irradiations are from the Spirit's illumination; 'tis the Spirit of wisdom and revelation that hath made day-light in the darkened soul. The man who had the heart of a beast, as to any saving or solid knowledge of God or himself, hath now got an understanding to know him that is true. Now is Christ become the poor man's wisdom, he is now renewed in knowledge after the image of him that created him; he might well babble of spiritual things, but till now he understood nothing of the beauty and excellency of God and his ways; nay, he knew not what he knew, he was ignorant as a beast of the life and lustre of those things which he knew in the letter; nothing seemed more despicable to him in the world, than true godliness; but now he judgeth otherwise, because he hath the mind of Christ. The things which in his darkness he did undervalue as trifles to be mocked at, he now can only mind and admire, since he became a child of light; now being delivered from that blindness and brutishness of spirit, which possesseth the world, (and possessed himself till he was transformed by the renewing of his mind) who esteem basely of spiritual things, and set them at nought, he prizeth as alone precious. The world wonders what pleasure or content can be in the service of God, because they see not by tasting how good he is; to be prying into and poring upon invisible things, is to them visible madness, but to the enlightened mind, the things that are not seen are only worth seeing, and while they appear not to be, they only are; whereas the things that are seen appear but to be, and are not. Though the surpassing sweetness of spiritual things should be spoke of to them, who cannot favour the things of God, in such a manner as the glorious light of them did surround men; yet they can perceive no such thing; all is to them cunningly devised fables; let be spoke what will, they see no form, no comeliness, no beauty in this glorious object--God in Christ reconciling sinners to himself. Alas! the mind is blinded; the dungeon is within; and till Christ open the eyes, as well as reveal his light, the soul abides in its blindness, and is buried in midnight darkness; but when the Spirit of God opens the man's eyes, and he is translated by an act of omnipotency out of the kingdom of darkness into the kingdom of his dear Son, which is a kingdom of marvellous light, O what matchless beauty doth he now see in these things, which appeared despicable and dark nothings to him, till he got the unction, the eye-salve, which teacheth all things. Now he sees (what none without the Spirit can see) the things which God hath prepared for them that love him, and are freely given them of God; and these, though seen at a distance, reflect such rays of beauty into his soul, that he beholds and is ravished, he sees and is swallowed up in wonder. But then, in the next place, this is not a spiritless inefficacious speculation about these things, to know no evil but sin and separation from God, and no blessedness but in the fruition of him; it is not such a knowledge of them as doth not principle motion to pursue after them. This I grant is part of the image of God, when the Sun of Righteousness, by arising upon the man, hath made day-light in his soul, and by these divine discoveries hath taught him to make the true parallel betwixt things that differ, and to put a just value upon them according to their intrinsic worth. But this divine illumination doth not consist in a mere notion of such things in the head, nor doth it subsist in enlightening the mind; but in such an impression of God upon the soul, as transforms and changes the heart into his likeness by love.' Knowledge is but one line, one draught or lineament of the soul's likeness to him; that alone doth not make up the image, but knowledge rooted in the heart, and engraven on the soul, hining and shewing itself forth in a gospel-adorning conversation, that makes a comely proportion; when the same hand that touched the eye, and turned the man from darkness to light, and gave an heart to know him, that he is the Lord, that doth also circumcise the man's heart to love the Lord his God, with all his heart, and with all his soul, and with all his mind; and this love manifesting its liveliness, in its constraining power to live to him and for him. Light without, heat is but wild fire; but light in the mind, begetting heat in the heart, making it burn Godward, Christward, and heavenward; light in the understanding, setting on fire and inflaming the affections, and these shining out in a heavenly conversation, makes up the lively image of God, both in feature and stature, both in proportion and colour. Faith begins this image, and draws the lineaments; and love bringing forth obedience finishes, and gives it the lively lustre. The burnings of love in obedience to God is that which illuminates the whole, and makes a man look indeed like him, to whose image he is predestinate to be conform, and then makes him, who is ravished with the charms of that beauty, say, as in a manner overcome thereby, "how fair is thy love, my sister, my spouse? How much better is thy love than wine, and the smell of thine ointments than all spices?" But consider, that as these beams, which irradiate the soul, are from the Spirit of Christ, so that spiritual heat and warmth come out of the same airth, and proceed from the same author, for our fire burns as he blows, our lamp shines as he snuffs and furnisheth oil. Men therefore should not indulge themselves in this delusion, to think, that that which will pass for pure religion and undefiled before God, consists either in an outward blameless conversation, or in putting on and wearing an external garb of profession. No, as the top of it reacheth higher, so the root of it lies deeper; it is rooted in the heart, this seed being sown in an honest heart (or making the heart honest in which it is sown) takes root downward, and brings forth fruit upward, as trees that grow as far under ground as above, so these trees of righteousness, the planting of the Lord that he may be glorified, grow as far and as fast under ground as above; godliness grows as far downwards in self-emptying, self-denial, and self-abasing, in hungering and thirsting after more of righteousness, in the secret engagements of the heart to God in Christ, in these burstings of heart and bleeding of soul, to which God alone is witness, because of shortcoming in holiness, because of a body of death within, and because of that law in the members warring against the law of the mind, and bringing often into captivity to the law of sin, as it grows upward in a profession. And this is that pure religion and undefiled before God, which is both most pleasant to him, and profitable to the soul. But to make the difference betwixt dead morality, in its best dress, and true godliness, more clear and obvious, that loveliness of the one may engage men into a loathing of the other, this dead carion and stinking carcase of rotten morality, which still stinks in the nostrils of God, even when embalmed with the most costly ointments of its miserably misled patrons, we say, that true godliness, which in quality and kind differs from this much pleaded for and applauded morality, a black heathen by a mongrel kind of Christians baptised of late with the name of Christianity, and brought into the temple of the Lord, concerning which he hath commanded that it should never in that shape, and for that end it is introduced, enter into his congregation; and the bringers for their pains are like to seclude themselves for ever from his presence. It respects Jesus Christ, 1st, as its principle; 2d, as its pattern; 3d, as its altar; and, 4th, as its end. 1. I say, true holiness, in its being and operation, respects Jesus Christ as its principle; "I live," said that shining saint, "yet not I, but Christ liveth in me." As that which gives religion its first being, is the religation of the soul to God; so that which gives it motion, and draws forth that life into action, is the same God's working all their works in them and for them, so that in all they do, they are workers together with God; every act of holiness is an act of the soul made alive unto God through Jesus Christ, and quickened to each action by the supervenience of new life and influence; therefore, says Christ, without me ye can do nothing; it is not, being out of me ye can do nothing, for he spoke it to those who were in him, but, if ye leave me out in doing, all ye do will be nothing. 'Tis Jesus Christ who gives life and legs, so that our runnings are according to his drawings. "My soul followeth hard after thee," said that holy man; but whence is all this life and vigour? "Thy right hand upholdeth me," Oh! it is the upholdings and helpings of this right hand, enlarging the man's heart, that makes a running in the ways of his commandments; it is he who, while the saints work out the work of their own salvation, worketh in them both to will and to do. It is he who giveth power to the faint, and who, to them that have no might, encreaseth strength, so that the poor lifeless, languishing lie-by is made to mount up with eagles' wings, and surmount all these difficulties, with a holy facility, which were simply insuperable, and pure impossibilities. Now the man runs and doth not weary, because Christ draws; and he walks and doth not faint, because Christ, in whom dwells the fulness of the Godhead bodily, dwells in him, and walks in him, and dwells in him for that very end, that he may have a completeness and competency of strength for duty. All grace is made to abound unto him, that he always having all sufficiency in all things, may abound unto every good work. He is able of himself to do nothing, no, not to think any thing as he ought, but he hath a sufficiency of God, whereby he is thoroughly furnished unto every good work; so that he may say, I am able for all things: it is more than "I am able to do all things," as we read it; its just import is, "I am able to do all things, and to endure all things;" and that which keeps it from vain boasting, is what is added, "through Christ which strengthened me," or putting power in me, or rather impowering me, which is by a supervenient act drawing forth life into a liveliness of exercise, according to the present exigent. There is a power in a saint, because Christ is in him, that overpowers all the powers of darkness without, and all the power of indwelling corruption within, so that when the poor weak creature is ready to despond; within sight of his duty, and say, because of difficulty, what is my strength that I should hope? Christ saith, despond not, my grace is sufficient for thee, and my power shall rest upon thee, to a reviving thee, and raising thee up, and putting thee in case to say, when I am weak, then I am strong; his strength, who impowers me, is made perfect in my weakness, so that I will glory in my infirmities, and be glad in being grace's debtor. But what power is that, which raiseth the dead sinner, and carries the soul in its actings so far without the line, and above the sphere of all natural activity, when stretched to its utmost? O, it is an exceeding great power which is to them-ward who believe, that must make all things, how difficult soever, easy, when he works in them to will and to do, according to the working of his mighty power, (or as it is upon the margin, and more emphatic, of the might of his power,) which he wrought in Christ, when he raised him from the dead, and set him at his own right hand, &c.; he that raised up the Lord Jesus from the dead, raiseth up believers also by Jesus; and being raised and revived by him, to walk in newness of life, the life of Jesus, in its communications of strength, is manifest in their mortal flesh, according to that of the same apostle; "the life that I live in the flesh," saith he, "I live by the faith of the Son of God." Faith brings in Christ in my soul, and Christ being my life, carries out my soul in all the acts of obedience, wherein, though I be the formal agent, yet the efficiency and the power, by which I operate, is from him; so that I can give no better account of it than this,--I--not I. But who then, if not you? The grace of God, saith he, which was with me. But this mystery to our bold, because blind moralists, of an indwelling Christ working mightily in the soul, is plain madness and melancholy; however we understand his knowledge in the mystery of Christ, who said, "The life I live in the flesh," &c.; and from what we understand of his knowledge in that mystery, which he had by revelation, we understand our moralists to be men of corrupt minds, who concerning the faith hath made shipwreck; but what is that, "The life I live in the flesh," &c. The import of it seems to be this, if not more,--while I have in me a soul animating my body, as the principle of all my vital and natural actions, I have Jesus Christ animating my soul, and by the impulse and communicate virtue and strength of an indwelling Christ, I am made to run the ways of his commandments, wherein I take so great delight, that I am found of no duty as of my enemy. 2. The gospel holiness respects Jesus Christ as its pattern. It proposeth no lower pattern for imitation than to be conform to his image, (he that is begotten again into a lively hope, by the resurrection of Christ from the dead, girds up the loins of his mind, which are the affections of his soul, lest by falling flat upon the earth, he be hindered in running the race set before him, as looking to the forerunner his pattern,) in this girdle of hope, that he may be "holy in all manner of conversation," keeping his eye upon the precept and pattern, that his practice may be conform. It is written, saith he, "be ye holy, for I am holy;" the hope of seeing God, and being ever with him, imposeth a necessity upon him who hath it, to look no lower than at him, who is glorious in holiness; and therefore he is said to purify himself even as he is pure; and knowing that this is the end of their being quickened together with Christ, that they may walk even as he walked, they in their working and walking aim at no less than to be like him; and therefore never sit down upon any attained measure, as if they were already perfect. The spotless purity of God expressed in his laws, is that whereto they study assimilation; therefore they are still in motion towards this mark, and are changed from one of glorious grace into another, into the same image, even as by the Spirit of the Lord, who never gives over his putting them to cleanse from all filthiness of the flesh and of the spirit, till that be true in the truest sense, "Thou art all fair, my love, there is no spot in thee." And knowing that perfect fruition of him cannot be without the perfect conformity to him, herein do they exercise themselves to grow in grace, and to be still advancing towards some more likeness to his image, forgetting all their attainments, as things that are behind, and by their Teachings forth unto that which is before, make it evident that they make every begun degree of grace and conformity to God, a prevenient capacity for a new degree which yet they have not attained. I know our moralists look upon themselves as matchless, in talking of following his steps as he hath left us an example; in this they make a flourishing with flanting effrontery, but for all their boasting of wisdom, such a poor simple man as I, am made to wonder at their folly, who proposing, as they say, the purity of Christ as their pattern, are not even thence convinced, that in order to a conformity thereto, there is a simple and absolute necessity of the mighty operations of that Spirit of God, whereby this end can be reached; but while they flout at the Spirit's working as a melancholy fancy, whereby the soul is garnished with the beauty of holiness, and made an habitation for God, I doubt not to say of these great sayers, that they understand neither what they say, nor whereof they affirm; nay, doth not the talking of the one, not only without seeing the necessity of the other, but speaking against it, say in the heart of every one, who hath not the heart of a beast, that they have never yet got a sight of the holiness of that pattern, nor of their own pollutions and impotency; for if they had, they would give themselves up to Jesus Christ to be washed by him, without which they can have no part with him. O there will be a vast difference, at the latter day, betwixt them who have given their black souls to Jesus to bleach, when he shall present them without spot, not only clothed with wrought gold, but all glorious within, and those who have never dipped, yea, who have despised to dip their defiled souls in any other fountain, save in the impure puddle of their own performances. This will make them loathsome in his sight, and cause his soul abhor those who have done this despite unto the Spirit of grace, as to slight that blessed fountain, opened for sin and for uncleanness, let them pretend as high as they will, to look to him as a pattern; while, because the plague-sore is gone up in their eye, they look not to him as a price, nor to the grace of Jesus Christ, as that which can only principle any acceptable performance of duty, he will plunge them in the ditch, and it will cost them their souls, for rejecting the counsel of God against themselves, in not making use of him who came by water as well as by blood. 3. This gospel holiness respects Christ as the altar. It is in him, and for him, that his soul is well pleased with our performance--this is the altar upon which thou must lay thy gift, and leave it, without which thy labour is lost, and whatsoever thou dost is loathed, as a corrupt thing. As believers draw all their strength from him, so they expect acceptance only through him, and for him. They do not look for it, but in the Beloved; they dare not draw near to God in duty, but by him. This is the new and living way which is consecrate for them; and if such, who offer to come to God, do not enter in hereat, instead of being admitted to a familiar converse with God, they shall find him a consuming fire. When the saints have greatest liberty in prayer, and so of all other performances, when their hearts are most lifted up in the ways of the Lord, they abhor at thinking their prayer can any otherways be set forth before him as incense, or the lifting up of their hands as the evening sacrifice, but as presented by the great intercessor, and perfumed by the merit of his oblation. If they could weep out the marrow of their bones, and the moisture of their body, in mourning over sin; yet they durst not think of having what comes from so impure a spring, and runs through so polluted a channel, presented to God, but by Jesus Christ, in order to acceptation; for, as they look to the exalted Saviour, to get their repentance from him, so when by the pourings out upon them of the spirit of grace and supplication, he hath made them pour out their hearts before him, and hath melted them into true tenderness, so that their mourning is a great mourning, they carry back these tears to be washen and bathed in his blood, as knowing without this of how little worth and value with God their salt water is; but when they are thus washed he puts them in his bottle, and then pours them out again to them in the wine of strong consolation. Thus are they made glad in his house of prayer, and their sighs and groans come up with acceptance upon his altar. O blessed altar, that sanctifies the gold! this is that altar, whereto the mocking moralist hath no right. It is by him that the poor believer offers up his sacrifice to God continually; whatever he doth in word or deed, he desires to do all in the name of the Lord Jesus. As he knows, he lives to make intercession, and to appear in the presence of God for his poor people, both to procure influences for duty, and plead for acceptation: so he depends upon him for both, as knowing he can never otherways hear nor have it said unto him, "well done thou good and faithful servant." It may be he can do little, he hath but a mite to offer; but he puts it in the Mediator's hand to be presented to God. He hath not gold, nor silver, nor purple to bring; he can do no great things; he hath but goats' hair or rams' skins, but he gives them the right tincture, he makes them red in the blood of Christ, and so they are a beautiful incarnation. But let us, on the other hand, take a short view of what our moralists substitute in its place, as in their account, both more beautiful in the eye, and more beneficial to the souls of men, wherein I intend to be brief. I might comprehend the account to be given shortly, and give it most exactly, yet truly in these few words. As the most undoubted deviation from, and perfect opposition unto the whole contrivance of salvation, and the conveyance of it into the souls of men, as revealed in this gospel which brings life and immortality to light, that fighters against the grace of God in its value and virtue can forge, stretching their blind reason to the overthrow of true religion, and ruin of the souls of men. For to this height these masters of reason have, in their blind rage, risen up against the Lord and against his anointed; this is the dreadful period of that path, wherein we are persuaded to walk, yea hectored, if we would not forfeit the repute of men by these grand sophies, who arrogate to themselves the name and thing of knowledge, as if wisdom were to die with them. The deep mysteries of salvation, which angels desire to look into, and only satisfy themselves with admiration at, must appear as respondents at their bar; and if they decline the judge and court, as incompetent, they flee out and flout at subjecting this blind mole, man's reason, to the revelation of faith in a mystery. The manifold wisdom of God, and the manifold grace of God, must either condescend to their unfoldings, and be content to speak in their dialect, or else these wits, these Athenian dictators, will give the deep things of God, because beyond their divings, the same entertainment which that great gospel preacher, Paul, met with from men of the same mould, kidney, and complexion, because he preached unto them Jesus, What would the babbler say, said they. The Spirit of wisdom and revelation they know not, they have not, they acknowledge not; nay, they despise him in his saving and soul-ascertaining illuminations; and the workings of that mighty power to them-ward who believe, is to the men of this new mould (because they have not found it) an insufferable fancy, to be exploded with a disdain and indignation, which discovers what spirit actuates them in this opposition. But I would recommend to you, who can neither purchase nor peruse what is more voluminous (how worthy soever) the serious perusal, as of the whole of that savoury and grace-breathing peace, the fulfilling of the Scriptures; so therein that short but sweet digression, against black-mouthed Parker, wherein the gracious author takes out his own soul, and sets before thine eye, the image of God impressed thereon; for while he deals with that desperado by clear and convincing reason, flowing natively from the pure fountain of divine revelation, he hath the advantage of most men, and writers too, in silencing that proud blasphemer of the good ways of God, with arguments taken from what he hath found acted upon his own soul. And likewise I would recommend, as a sovereign antidote against this poison, the diligent perusing and pondering of what is shortly hinted against the hellish belchings of the same unhallowed author (in the Preface to that piece of great Mr. Durham, upon the Commands) by a disciple, who, besides his natural acuteness and sub-actness of judgment in the depth of the gospel mysteries, is known, by all who know him (and for myself, I know none now alive his equal) to have most frequent access to lean his head on his Master's bosom, and so in best case to tell his fellow-disciples and brethren, what is breathed into his own soul, while he lives in these embraces, and under the sheddings abroad of that love of God in his soul, which drew and did dictate these lines, against that flouter at all such fruitions. Nor can I here omit to observe, how, when the devil raised up Parker, that monster, to bark and blaspheme, the Lord raised up a Merveil to fight him at his own weapon, who did so cudgel and quell that boasting bravo, as I know not if he be dead of his wound, but for any thing I know, he hath laid his speech. It was not the author's design in this piece, (levelled only at this mark, to teach thee how to make use of the strength and grace that is in Christ Jesus, and find the promised ease in performance of duties; in handling of which argument, he hath been remarkably assisted, and thou canst not read with attention, but thou must bear him witness, and bless the Lord on his behalf, that he hath hit the mark at which he aimed) to engage in a formal debate with these audacious moralists, who would boast and bogle us out of the good old way, wherein, if men walk, they must find rest to their souls. Yet if by the doctrine he hath here explained and pressed, as the only way of life, they do not find what a mortal wound he hath given their morality, all the lovers of the truth will see it; and it may be, the Lord sparing life, and continuing the same gracious and great assistance, he hath had in engaging with many and great adversaries to the truth at home and abroad, they may see somewhat from his pen, which may make the lovers of our Lord Jesus Christ in sincerity, and of the operations of his Spirit, sing over these successors to Sisera, who with their jumping chariots and rattling wheels, assault the truth, at his feet they bowed, they fell, they lay down at his feet, they bowed, they fell where they bowed, there they fell down dead; so let all the enemies of thy truth perish, O Lord! How to make the whole more useful for thee, for whose advantage 'tis mainly intended, I leave to the author's own direction; only this I must say, his method and mould, wherein he casts his sweet matter, and his way of handling this so seasonable a subject, is so accommodate to each case, and brought home to the conscience, and down to the capacity of the meanest Christian, which was his aim, that the feeble, in this day, might be as David; that howbeit many worthy men have not only hinted, but enlarged upon the same matter, yet thou canst not but see some heart-endearing singularity in his way of improving and handling this great gospel truth. Next, I must tell thee, that as I myself read it with much satisfaction (though, alas! I dare not say, I have by reading reaped the designed advantage), so that thou mayest be blushed into a perusal thereof, and profiting thereby, I must likewise tell thee, I say, it hath been turned into Dutch, and that it hath not only met with great acceptation amongst all the serious and godly in these parts, who have seen it, but is much sought after; and they profess themselves singularly thereby edified, and set a-going after God, by its efficacious persuasiveness, with a singing alacrity; and if it have not the same effect upon thee and me, they and it will arise up against us in judgment. Up, therefore, Christians, and be doing: Listen to such a teacher, who, lest thou tire in thy race, or turn back, teacheth thee a certain and sweet way of singular proficiency and progress in the ways of God. It may be, it is not thy work, nor mine, to write both against these soul-murdering, however magnified, methods of taking men off Jesus Christ; but our penury of parts for that, should first put us to seek plenty of tears, that we may weep, to see our master so wounded by the piercing pens of those who, to patronise their mock religion, wrest the Scriptures, and with wicked hands wring the word of the Lord, till it weep blood: this, I say, should provoke thee and me to weep upon him, till he appear, and beat the pens of such deceivers out of their hand by a blow of his; 2d, It should provoke us to know the truth, that we may contend earnestly for the faith delivered to the saints, and to have these contradicted truths so impressed in their life upon our souls, that the pen of the most subtle pleader for this perversion of the gospel may neither delete these, nor be able to stagger us, but we may, from the efficacious working of these, have the witness in ourselves, and know the men who teach otherways not to be of God; 3d, It should be our ambition, when the all of religion is cried down, and a painted shadow, a putrid, however perfumed, nothing put in its place, to make it appear, by our practice, that religion is an elevation of the soul above the sphere and activity of dead morality; and that it is no less or lower principle that acts us, than Christ dwelling in us, and walking in us. How can the love of God, and of Christ, and of the Spirit be in us, if these perverse praters against the power of godliness, provoke us not to emit a practical declaration to the world, and extort a testimony to his grace by our way, from the enemies thereof? Improve, therefore, this his special help to that purpose, which in a most seasonable time is brought to thy hand. But to sum up all shortly, there are but three things which make religion an heavy burden; 1st, The blindness of the mind; and here thou art taught to make use of that eye-salve, whereby the eyes of the blind see out of obscurity, and out of darkness; he who formerly erred in spirit, by the light held forth in these lines, may see a surpassing beauty in the ways of God; 2d, That aversion and unwillingness which is in the mind, whereby the sweet and easy yoke of his commands is spurned at as heavy; in order to the removing thereof, and that thou mayest be among his willing people, here thou hast Christ held forth in his conquering beauty, displaying his banner of love over souls, so that thou canst not look upon him as held forth, but faith will bow thy neck to take on his yoke, because it sees it is lined with the love of Christ, and then this love that lines the yoke, shed abroad in the heart, will constrain to a bearing of it; but, 3d, When the spirit is willing, there remains yet much weakness; love kindled in the heart conquers the mind into a compliance with his will, and a complacency in his commands, but its greatest strength is often to weep over a withered hand. Now that thy hands which fall down may be made strong for labour, and thou mayest be girded with strength, and have grace for grace, yea, all grace to make thee abound unto every good word and work, the author leads thee up unto the full fountain of all gospel furniture, and strength; and teacheth thee how to make use of Christ, as thy sufficiency, for working all thy works in thee and for thee. I say, therefore, again unto thee, take heart, let not thine hands fall down, essay nothing thou would have well done or easily done, in thine own strength; but yet how difficult soever the duty be, approach it as having no confidence in the flesh, but with an eye to thy stock, that rich store-house of all furniture, and it shall be with thee as it was with the priests, before whom Jordan recoiled, so soon as their foot entered within the brink; God shall make thy difficulties evanish; and by the illapses of the Spirit of power and might from Jesus Christ depended upon, shall so strengthen thee, that thy duty is made easy to admiration, and becomes the delight of thy soul. Pray for the continuance of the life of the author, who, by his assiduous working for Christ, hath been often near unto death, not regarding his own life, to supply the lack of other men's service, to the interest and Church of God; and let him be comforted for this piece of travel undertaken for thy soul's interest, by hearing thou dost improve it to thy advantage, for which it is so exactly calculate: And with all I beg thy fervent and earnest intercessions for grace, and more grace, to him who is thy poor, yet soul's well-wisher and servant, for Christ's sake, R. M. W. CHRIST THE WAY, AND THE TRUTH, AND THE LIFE. JOHN XIV. 6--JESUS SAITH UNTO THEM, I AM THE WAY, AND THE TRUTH, AND THE LIFE; NO MAN COMETH UNTO THE FATHER BUT BY ME. CHAPTER I. THE INTRODUCTION, WITH SOME GENERAL OBSERVATIONS FROM THE COHESION. Doubtless it is always useful, yea, necessary, for the children of God to know the right way of making use of Christ, who is made all things to them which they need, even "wisdom, righteousness, sanctification, and redemption," 1 Cor. i. 30. But it is never more necessary for believers to be clear and distinct in this matter, than when Satan, by all means, is seeking to pervert the right ways of the Lord, and, one way or other, to lead souls away, and draw them off Christ; knowing that, if he prevail here, he hath gained his point. And therefore he endeavoureth not only to darken it by error, either more gross or more subtle, but also to darken it by mistakes and prejudices: whence it cometh to pass, that not only strangers are made to wander out of the way, but oftentimes many of his own people are walking in darkness of ignorance and mistakes, and remain lean through want of the real exercise of the life of faith, which would make them fat and flourishing; because it would make them "strong in the Lord, and in the power of his might, and to grow up in Christ in all things." The clearing up then of this truth cannot but be most seasonable now, when Satan is prevailing with many, whom he cannot get tempted to looseness and profanity, to sit down upon something which is not Christ, and to rest upon something with themselves, distinct from him, both in the matter of justification and sanctification. This subtle adversary is now setting some a-work, to cry up, by preaching, speaking, and printing, a way to heaven which is not Christ; a kind of morality, civility, and outward holiness, whereupon the soul is to rest. And this holiness, not wrought and effectuated through the strength of Jesus, by faith sucking life and furniture from him; but through our own art and skill, which in effect is nothing but an extract of refined Popery, Socinianism, and Arminianism, devised and broached of purpose to draw the soul off Christ, that he may stand upon his own legs, and walk by his own power, and thank himself, at least in part, for the crown at length. Further, through the great goodness of God, the true way of a soul's justification is admirably cleared up; and many are, at least theoretically, acquainted therewith; and many also practically, to the quieting of their wakened consciences, and stopping the mouth of their accusers, and obtaining of peace, joy, and the lively hope of the everlasting crown; yet many gracious souls profess their unacquaintedness with the solid and thriving way of use-making of Christ for growth in grace and true sanctification. Therefore some discovery of the truth here cannot but be useful, seasonable, yea, and acceptable unto them. If he, who is the Truth, would give grace to understand, and to unfold this so necessary and always advantageous a truth, and would help to write of and explain this truth by faith in him who is here said to be the Truth, then should we have cause to bless and magnify his name. But if he, because of sin, shall hide himself, and not let out these beams of light, whereby we might discover light, we shall but darken counsel with words without our knowledge, and leave the matter as unclear as ever. Therefore is it necessary, there be both in him that writeth, and in such as read, a single dependence on him, who "is for a leader," Isa. lv. 5, and hath promised to "bring the blind by a way which they know not, and to lead them in paths they had not known, and to make darkness light before them, and crooked things straight," Isa. xlii. 16, that thus by acting faith on him we may find, in so far, the truth of this verified, viz. that he is the Way, the Truth, and the Life. Now, for clearing up of this matter, we would know, that our Lord Jesus, from the beginning of this chapter, is laying down some grounds of consolation, sufficient to comfort his disciples against the sad news of his departure and death; and to encourage them against the fears they had of much evil to befall them when their Lord and Master should be taken from them; which is a sufficient proof of the tender heart of Jesus, who alloweth all his followers strong consolation against all fears, hazards, troubles, and perplexities which they can meet with in their way. He will not leave them comfortless, and therefore he layeth down strong grounds of consolation to support their drooping and fainting hearts; as loving to see his followers always rejoicing in the Lord, and singing in the ways of Zion: that the world may see and be convinced of a reality in Christianity, and of the preferableness of that life, notwithstanding of all the troubles that attend it, unto any other, how sweet and desirable soever it may appear to flesh and blood. In prosecution of which design, he told them, verse 4, that they "knew whether he went," and the way also which he was to take, and by which he was to bring them to the Father, to the mansion spoken of, and so to life eternal. But Thomas rashly and incredulously (as too usually he did, chap. xi. 16; xx. 25,) venteth himself, and little less than contradicteth his Master, saying, verse 5, "We know not whither thou goest, and how can we know the way?" wherein we have an emblem of many a believer, who may have more grace and knowledge of God and of Christ than they will be able to see, or acknowledge that they have; what through temptations, inward distempers, sense of their many defects, and great ignorance, strong desires of high measures, clearer discoveries of the vastness of the object, mistakes about the true nature of grace, despising the day of small things, and indistinctness as to the actings of grace, or want of understanding and right uptaking of grace in its various outgoings and actings under various notions, and the like. Whereupon Christ, after his usual manner, taketh occasion to clear up that ground of consolation further unto them; and to let them see the true way of coming to the Father, that thereby they might be helped to see that they were not such strangers unto the way as they supposed; and withal, he amplifieth and layeth out the properties and excellencies of this way, as being the only true and living way; and that in such a manner, as they might both see the way to be perfect, full, safe, saving, and satisfying; and also learn their duty of improving this way always, and in all things, until they come home at length to the Father, saying, "I am the way, and the truth, and the life; no man cometh unto the Father but by me." Christ then saying, that he not only is the way to the Father, even the true way, but that he is so the true way, as that he is also truth itself in the abstract, and so the living way, that he is life itself in the abstract, giveth us ground to consider, after what manner it is that he is the Truth and the Life, as well as the Way; and that for clearing up and discovering of his being an absolutely perfect, transcendently excellent, incomparably preferable and fully satisfying way, useful to believers in all cases, all exigents, all distresses, all difficulties, all trials, all temptations, all doubts, all perplexities, and in all causes or occasions of distempers, fears, faintings, discouragements, &c. which they may meet with in their way to heaven. And this will lead us to clear up the duty of believers, on the other hand, and to show how they should, in all their various cases and difficulties, make use of Christ as the only all-sufficient way to the Father, and as truth and life in the way, and so we will be led to speak of Christ's being to his people all that is requisite for them here in the way, whether for justification or sanctification; and how people are to make use of him as being all, or, as being made of "God to us wisdom, righteousness, sanctification, and redemption," 1 Cor. i. 30. Ere we come to the words in particular, we would look upon them as having relation to Thomas his words in the preceding verse, wherein he did little less than contradict what Christ had said in the 4th verse, and learn several very comfortable points of doctrine, as, I. That Jesus Christ is very tender of his followers, and will not cast them off, nor upbraid them for every escape whereby they may provoke him to anger and grieve his Spirit; but gently passeth by many of their failings, when he findeth they are not obstinate in their mistake, nor perverse in their way. For how gently and meekly doth he here pass over Thomas his unhandsome expression, finding that Thomas spake here, not out of obstinacy and pertinaciousness, but out of ignorance and a mistake. And the reason is, because, 1. Christ knoweth our infirmity and weakness, and is of a tender heart, and therefore will not "break the bruised reed," Isa. xlii. Well knoweth he that rough and untender handling would crush us, and break us all in pieces. And, 2. He is full of bowels of mercy, and can "have compassion on them that are out of the way, and can be touched with the feeling of our infirmities," Heb. iv. 15. v. 2. Which truth, as upon the one hand, it should encourage all to choose him for their leader, and give up themselves unto him, who is so tender of his followers; so, upon the other hand, it should rebuke such as are ready to entertain evil and hard thoughts of him, as if he were an hard master, and ill to be followed, and put all from entertaining the least thought of his untenderness and want of compassion. But, moreover, II. We see, that weaknesses and corruptions breaking out in believers, when they are honestly and ingenuously laid open before the Lord, will not fear him away, but rather engage him the more to help and succour. Much of Thomas his weakness and corruption appeared in what he said; yet the same being honestly and ingenuously laid open to Christ, not out of a spirit of contradiction, but out of a desire to learn, Christ is so far from thrusting him away, that he rather condescendeth the more, out of love and tenderness, to instruct him better, and clear the way more fully. And that, because, 1. He knoweth our mould and fashion, how feckless and frail we are, and that if he should deal with us according to our folly, we should quickly be destroyed. 2. He is not as a man, hasty, rash, proud; but gentle, loving, tender, and full of compassion. 3. It is his office and proper work to be an instructor to the ignorant, and a helper of our infirmities and weaknesses, a physician to bind up and cure our sores and wounds. Who would not then willingly give up themselves to such a teacher that will not thrust them to the door, nor give them up to themselves always, when their corruptions would provoke him thereunto? And what a madness is this in many, to stand a-back from Christ, because of their infirmities; and to scar at him, because of their weakness, when the more corruption we find the more we should run to him? and it is soon enough to depart from Christ when he thrusts us away, and saith, he will have no more to do with us; yea, he will allow us to stay after we are thrice thrust away. Only, let us take heed that we approve not ourselves in our evils, that we hide them not as unwilling to part with them, that we obstinately maintain them not, nor ourselves in them; but that we lie open before him, and deal with him, with honesty, ingenuousness, and plainness. III. We see, further, That ignorance ingenuously acknowledged and laid open before Christ, puts the soul in a fair way to get more instruction. Thomas having candidly, according as he thought, in the simplicity of his heart, professed his ignorance, is in a fair way now to get instruction. For this is Christ's work, to instruct the ignorant, to open the eyes of the blind. Why then are we so foolish as to conceal our ignorance from him, and to hide our case and condition from him; and why doth not this commend Christ's school to us so much the more? why do we not carry as ingenious scholars, really desirous to learn? But, IV. We may learn, That our ill condition and distempers put into Christ's hand will have remarkable out-gates, and an advantageous issue; seeing Christ taketh occasion here from Thomas his laying open his condition, not without some mixture of corruption, to clear up the truth more fully and plainly than it was before; for hereby, 1. Christ giveth an open declaration of the glory of his power, mercy, goodness, wisdom, &c. 2. He hath occasion to give a proof of his divine art and glorious skill of healing diseased souls, and of making broken bones stronger than ever they were. 3. Thus he effectually accomplished his noble designs, and perfecteth his work, in a way tending to abase man, by discovering his infirmities and failings; and to glorify himself in his goodness and love. 4. Thus he triumpheth more over Satan, and in a more remarkable and glorious manner destroyeth his works. 5. Thus he declareth how wonderfully he can make all things work together for good to his chosen ones that love him and follow him. 6. Yea, thus he engageth souls to wonder more at his divine wisdom and power; to despair less in time coming, when cases would seem hard; to acknowledge his great and wonderful grace, and his infinite power and wisdom, that can bring life out of death; and also to be more sensible of the mercy, and thankful for it. O believer, what manner of joy is here! how happy art thou that hath given up thyself to him! Thy worst condition can turn to thy advantage. He can make thy ignorance, vented with a mixture of corruption, turn to the increase of thy knowledge. Bless him for this; and, with joy and satisfaction, abide thou under his tutory and at his school. And withal, be not discouraged, be thy case of ignorance and corruption what it will, lay it before him with sincerity and singleness of heart, and then "thou mayest glory in thine infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest on thee," 2 Cor. xii. 9; for thou shalt see, in due time, what advantage infinite love and wisdom can bring to thy soul thereby. May not this be a strong motive to induce strangers to give up themselves to him, who will sweetly take occasion, at their failings and shortcomings, to help them forward in the way? And what excuse can they have who sit the call of the gospel, and say, in effect, they will not go to Christ because their case is not good. And O that believers were not sometimes led away with this error of scaring at Christ, because of infirmities seen and discovered! V. It is remarkable, that, as the disciples did ofttimes vent much of their carnal conceptions of the kingdom of Christ, as apprehending it to be some carnal, outward, pompous, stately, and, upon that account, desirable condition; so there might be much of this carnal apprehension lurking under this acknowledgment and question of Thomas; and the Lord, who knew their thoughts, doth here wisely draw them off those notions, and sets them about another study, to tell us, that it is best and most useful and profitable for us, to be much taken up in the study and search of necessary fundamental truths, and, particularly, of the way to the Father. For, 1. Here is the substantial food of the soul; other notions are but vain, and oftentimes they make the case of the soul worse; but the study of this is always edifying. 2. The right understanding of this and other fundamental truths will not puff up, but keep the soul humble, and will make the soul active and diligent in duty. 3. The fruit of this study is profitable and lasting. 4. And the right uptaking of these truths will discover the vanity of other sciences, falsely so called, and the folly of spending our time about other things. 5. The right understanding of this fundamental will help us to understand other truths the better. 6. A mistake in this, and such like fundamentals, or the ignorance of them, is more dangerous than the ignorance of or mistake in other things. Oh! if this were teaching us all, in humility, to be much in the study of such fundamental necessary truths as this is; and to guard against a piece of vanity in affecting knowledge, the effect of which is nothing but a puffing of us up with pride and conceit! VI. We may here take notice of what may serve to discover Thomas his mistake, and what is the ground of Christ's assertion, verse 4, which Thomas doth little less than contradict, verse 5, viz. that such as had any acquaintance with Christ did, according to the measure of their knowledge of him, both know heaven and the way to it; whence we see these truths, 1. Persons may have some real acquaintance with Christ, and yet be, for a time, very indistinct in their notions about him, and apprehensions of him. They may know Christ in some measure, and yet look upon themselves as great strangers to the knowledge of heaven, and be oft complaining of their ignorance of the right way to heaven. 2. Where there is the least measure of true acquaintance with Christ, with love to him, and a desire to know more of him, Christ will take notice thereof, though it be covered over with a heap of mistakes, and accompanied with much ignorance, weakness, and indistinctness. He seeth not as man seeth, which is good news to some that are weak in knowledge, and unable to give any good account of any knowledge they have; yet one thing they can say, that he who knoweth all things, knoweth that they love him. 3. Various are the dispensations of God's grace unto his own. To some he giveth a greater, to others a lesser measure of knowledge of the mysteries of the kingdom of heaven; and to one and the same person, more at one time than at another. Various are his manifestations and out-lettings of grace and love. Small beginnings may come to much at length. Thomas, and the rest of the disciples, had but little clear and distinct apprehensions of the way of salvation through Jesus Christ; and yet, ere all was done, they attained to such a measure of understanding in the mysteries of God, as that we are said to be "built upon the foundation of the apostles, Jesus Christ himself being the chief corner-stone," Eph. ii. 20. This should teach the best much sobriety, and not to judge of all by themselves; or to think, that God's way with them must be a standard or a rule whereby to judge of all the rest; as if his way of dealing were one and the same with all. 4. The knowledge of Christ is all. Know him, and we know heaven and the way to it; for upon this ground doth Christ make good what he said, touching their knowing whither he went, and the way; and answereth the objection that Thomas did propose, viz. because he was the way, &c., and they being acquaint with him, (which here is presupposed,) were not ignorant of the place whither he was going, nor of the way leading thither. The knowledge then of Jesus Christ is a true and full compend of all saving knowledge. Hence it "is life eternal to know him," John xvii. 3. "They that know him, know the Father," John xiv. 9. and viii. 19. "They that see him, see the Father also," John xiv. 9. "He is in the Father, and the Father in him," John xiv. 10, 11. and x. 38. and xvii. 21. And so knowing him they know heaven; for what is heaven else but the presence and glorious manifestations of the Father; for when Christ speaks of his going to heaven, he saith, "He was going to the Father." So knowing him, they know the way, both how Christ was to go to heaven as our cautioner, head, and attorney, and how we must follow. Let then a man have never so much knowledge, and be acquainted with the mysteries of all arts and sciences, and with the depths of nature, and intrigues of states, and all the theory of religion; if he be unacquainted with Jesus, he knoweth nothing as he ought to know. And upon the other hand, let a poor soul that is honest, and hath some knowledge of, and acquaintance with him, be satisfied, though it cannot discourse nor dispute, nor speak to cases of conscience, as some others; if we know him, it matters not though we be ignorant of many things, and thereby become less esteemed of by others. Here is the true test, by which we may take a right estimate of our own, or of others' knowledge. The true rule to try knowledge by, is not fine notions, clear and distinct expressions, but heart-acquaintance with him; "in whom are hid all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge," Col. ii. 3. O sad! that we are not more taken up in this study, which would be a compendious way for us to know all? Why spend we our money for that which is not bread, and our labour for that which will not profit us? Why waste we our time and spirits in learning this science, and that art; when, alas! after we, with much labour and toil, have attained to the yondmost pitch there, we are never one whit the nearer heaven and happiness? yea, it were well, if we were not further off! Oh! if we were wise at length, and could think more of this one thing necessary; and could be stirred up to learn more of him, and to make this the subject of all our study and labour. CHAPTER II. OF THE WORDS THEMSELVES IN GENERAL. We come now to the words themselves, wherein Christ asserts that he is, 1, "the way;" 2, "the truth;" 3, "the life;" and, 4, "that no man cometh to the Father but by him." In them we learn these two things in general. _First,_ The misery of wretched man by nature. This cannot be in a few words expressed. These words will point out those particulars thereof, which we will but mention. 1. That he is born an enemy to, and living at a distance from God, by virtue of the curse of the broken covenant of life made with Adam. 2. That he neither can nor will return to God, of himself. His way is not in himself; he hath need of another to be his way. 3. That he is a blind, wandering creature, ready to by-ways and to wander; yea, he loveth to wander. He goeth astray as soon as he is born, speaking lies. 4. He cannot discern the true way, but is blinded with prejudice thereat, and full of mistakes. He is nothing but a lump of error. 5. He is dead legally and really: how can he then come home? How can he walk in the way, though it were pointed out to him? 6. He, even when he entereth into the way, is subject to so many faintings, swoonings, upsittings, &c. that except he get new quickening, he must lie by the way and perish. In a word, his misery is such as cannot be expressed; for as little as it is believed, and laid to heart; or seen and mourned for, and lamented. Now, for a ground to our following discourse, I would press the solid, thorough and sensible apprehension of this, without which there will be no use-making or application of Christ; "for the whole need not the physician, but the sick;" and Christ is "not come to call the righteous, but sinners to repentance," Matt. ix. 12. Mark ii. 17. Yea, believers themselves would live within the sight of this, and not forget their frailty; for though there be a change wrought in them, yet they are not perfect, but will have need of Christ as the way, the truth, and the life, till he bring them in, and set them down upon the throne, and crown them with the crown of life. And, O happy they, who must not walk on foot without this guide leading them by the hand, or rather carrying them in his arms. Let all them who would make use of Christ remember what they were, and what they are, and keep the sense of their frailty and misery fresh; that seeing their need of him, they may be in better case to look out to him for help and supply, and be more distinct in their application of him. The _second_ general is, that Christ is a complete mediator, thoroughly furnished for all our necessities. Are we at a distance from the Father? He is a way to bring us together. Are we wandered out of the way? He is the way to us. Are we blind and ignorant? He is the truth. Are we dead? He is the life. Concerning this fulness and completeness of his, we would mark these things: 1. That he is thoroughly furnished with all things we stand in need of; the way, the truth, and the life. He hath eye-salve, clothing, gold tried in the fire, &c. "For the Spirit of the Lord is upon him, and hath anointed him," Isa. lxi. 1. 2. He is suitably qualified, not only having a fulness, and an all-fulness, so that whatever we need is to be had in him, but also a suitable fulness answering our case to the life. Are we out of the way? He is the way. Are we dead? He is life, &c. 3. He is richly qualified with this suitable good. He hath not only "wisdom and knowledge," but "treasures of it," yea, "all the treasures" thereof, Col. ii. 3. There is fulness in him; yea, "it hath pleased the Father that in him should all fulness dwell," Col. i. 19. Yea, "the fulness of the Godhead dwelleth in him bodily," Col. ii. 9. 4. Hence this is an up-making completeness and fulness; for we are said to be "complete in him," Col. ii. 10. And he is said to "be all in all," Col. iv. 11. "He filleth all in all," Eph. i. 23. 5. It is also a satisfying completeness. The eye is not satisfied with seeing, nor the ear with hearing. The avaricious man is not satisfied with gold, nor the ambitious man with honour; but still they are crying with the loch leech, give, give! But the man who getteth Christ is full; he sitteth down and cryeth, enough, enough! And no wonder, for he hath all; he can desire no more; he can seek no more; for what can the man want that is complete in him? 6. There is here that which will answer all the objections of a soul; and these sometimes are not few. If they say they cannot know the way to the Father, then he is the truth to instruct and teach them that, and so to enter them into it. And if they say they cannot walk in that way, nor advance in it one step, but will faint and sit up, succumb and fall by; he answereth that he is the life, to put life and keep life in them, and to cause them to walk, by putting a new principle of life in them, and breathing of new on that principle. O thrice happy they who have fled to him for refuge! It is easy for them to answer all objections and cavils of Satan, and of a false heart. It is easy for them to put Christ to answer all. And, on the other hand, who can tell the misery of such as are strangers to Jesus? How shall their wants be made up? How shall they answer challenges, accusations, temptations, doubts, fears, objections, and discouragements, cast up in their way? Oh! should not this endear the way of the gospel to us, and make Christ precious unto us! Is it not a wonder that such an all-sufficient mediator, who is able to save to the uttermost all that come to God through him, should be so little regarded and sought unto; and that there should be so few that embrace him, and take him as he is offered in the gospel. How can this be answered in the day of accounts? What excuse can unbelievers now have? Is not all to be found in Christ that their case calleth for? Is he not a complete mediator, thoroughly furnished with all necessaries? Is not the riches of his fulness written on all his dispensations? The mouths, then, of unbelievers, must be for ever stopped. CHAPTER III. HOW CHRIST IS THE WAY IN GENERAL, "I AM THE WAY." We come now to speak more particularly to the words; and, _first,_ Of his being a way. Our design being to point at the way of use-making of Christ in all our necessities, straits, and difficulties which are in our way to heaven; and particularly to point out the way how believers should make use of Christ in all their particular exigencies; and so live by faith in him, walk in him, grow up in him, advance and march forward toward glory in him. It will not be amiss to speak of this fulness of Christ in reference to unbelievers, as occasion offereth, because this will help to clear the other. Before we can clear up how any can make use of Christ, we must speak something of their necessity of him, and of his being furnished fitly, fully, richly, and satisfyingly for their case; and this will make the way of use-making of Christ more plain. While Christ then says, "I am the Way," he points out those things to us: 1. That man is now estranged from the Lord, and in a wandering condition: He hath departed from God, he is revolted and gone. "They are all gone out of the way," Rom. iii. 12. "They go astray as soon as they are born, speaking lies," Psal. lviii. 3. 2. Nay, not only so, but we love naturally to wander and to run away from God, as Jeremiah complaineth of that wicked people, Jer. xiv. 10. Naturally, with "the dromedary, we traverse our ways," Jer. ii. 23, and run hither and thither, but never look towards him. Nay, we are like those spoken of, Job xxi. 14. "We desire not the knowledge of his ways, we will have none of him," Psalm lxxxi. 11; nor "of his reproofs," Prov. i. 30. Oh, how sad is this! And yet how is it more sad, that this is not believed, nor once considered. And that it is not believed, is manifest; for, 1. How rare is it to meet with persons that are not very well pleased and satisfied with themselves and their condition? They thank the Lord it was aye well with them. They have no complaints. They see no wants nor necessities. They wonder what makes folk complain of their condition, of their evil heart, or of their hazard and danger. They understand not these matters. 2. Do we not find people very quiet and at rest, though they remain in the congregation of the dead, Prov. xxi. 16. They sleep in a sound skin, because they see no hazard. The thoughts of their condition never bereave them of one night's rest: No challenges have they; all is at peace with them, for the strong man keeps the house. 3. How rare is it to find people exercised about this matter, and busied with it in their thoughts, either while alone, or while in company with others; or once seriously thinking and considering of it, yea, or so much as suspecting the matter? 4. How rare is it to see any soul broken in heart, and humbled because of this; who is walking under this as under a load; whose soul is bleeding under the consideration of this! Is there any mourning for this? 5. Where is that to be heard, "Men and brethren, what shall we do to be saved?" How shall we enter into the right way? Where is that good old way, that we may walk in it? Few such questions and cases troubling consciences; and no wonder, for a deep sleep is upon them. 6. How cometh it then, that the pointing forth of the way is so little hearkened unto? Sure were this natural condition perceived, a report of the sure and safe way would be much more welcome than it is: Christ by his messengers would not be put to cry so often in vain, "This is the way, turn in hither." Here is enough to convince of this ignorance and insensibleness; but it is his Spirit, which "convinceth the world of sin," John xvi. that must bear home this conviction. _Secondly_, It pointeth out to us this, that "the way of man is not in himself," Jer. x. 23, that is, that nothing, he can do can or will prove a way to him to the Father: For Christ is the Way, as excluding all other means and ways. And that man can do nothing to help himself into the way, is clear; for, 1. "His way is darkness," Prov. iv. 14. He knoweth no better, he is satisfied therewith; there he sleepeth and resteth. 2. He cannot nor doth not desire to return. He hateth to be reformed. 3. Yea, he thinketh himself safe; no man can convince him of the contrary: The way he is in "seemeth right to him, though the end thereof be death;" Prov. xiv. 12, and xvi. 25. 4. Every man hath his own particular way to which he turneth, Isaiah liii, 6; some one thing or other that he is pleased with, and that he thinks will abundantly carry him through, and there resteth he; and what these ordinarily are, we shall hear presently. 5. In this his way, which yet is a false way, "he trusteth," Hosea x. 13, he leaneth upon it, little knowing that it will fail him at length, and that he and his hope and confidence shall perish. Is it not strange then to see men and women "gading about to seek their way," as it is said, Jer. ii. 36. as if they could find it out; or as if they could of themselves fall upon the way. What a lamentable sight is it, to see people "wearying themselves with very lies," Ezek. xxiv. 12; "and wearied in the multitude of their own counsels," Isaiah xlvii. 15. But what are those false and lying ways which men weary themselves in, and all in vain; and which they chuse and trust unto, and yet are not the way which will prove safe and sure? _Ans._ It will not be easy to reckon them all up, we shall name some that are principal and most ordinary; such as, 1. Good purposes and resolutions, with which many deceive themselves, supposing that to be all which is required: And, alas! all their purposes are like to Ephraim's goodness,--like the early cloud and morning dew that soon evanisheth; their purposes are soon broken off, and soon disappointed, because made without counsel, Prov. xv. 22. Many foolishly rest here, that they have a good mind to do better, and to amend their ways, and they purpose after such a time or such time, they shall begin a new manner of life; but their purposes never come to any effect, and so at length they and their purposes both perish. 2. Some convictions and inward challenges. The word now and then pierceth them so far, and sore and sharp dispensations from the Lord so far affect their heart, that they see it is not well with them; and they are made, with Saul, to cry out, "I have sinned," 1 Sam. xv. 24, and they advance no further; those convictions either die out again, or work no further change: And, poor souls, they think, because at such a sermon, or such a communion, they had some such convictions and sharp challenges, therefore they imagine all is well with them; when a Judas may have convictions, sharper than ever they had, and a Felix, Acts xxiv. 25. 3. Convictions followed with some sort of amendment. Some may dreadfully deceive themselves with this, and conclude that all is right with them, and that the way they are in is safe and sure; because they have had convictions, which have been so effectual as to cause them to amend many things, and become, as to many things, changed men and women, when, alas, their way is but a way of darkness still; it is not Christ; they have never come to him. Herod hearing John Baptist, had his own convictions and amendments; for "he did many things," Mark vi. 20. 4. Many rest upon their outward civility and morality, or negative holiness. They cannot be challenged for gross faults, and that is all the way they have to rest in: Alas! could not a wicked Pharisee say as much as they, viz. "That he was no extortioner, unjust person, or an adulterer, nor such as the publican was," Luke xviii. 11. How many heathens, as to this, shall outstrip such as profess themselves Christians? and yet they lived and died strangers to the right way to happiness. See what that poor young man said, Luke xviii. 21. 5. Some may win to more than civility, and attain unto a kind of outward holiness, and outward performance of the duties of religion, such as hearing, reading, prayer, communicating, and rest there, and yet perish: For that is but their own way, it is not the right way. Had not the foolish virgins lamps? and did they not wait with the rest, Matth. xxv.; and will not many say, in that day, "We have eaten and drunken in thy presence, and thou hast taught in our streets:" to whom Christ shall answer, "I know not whence you are, depart from me, all ye workers of iniquity?" Luke xiii. 26, 27. Were not the Jews much in duties and outward ordinances? and yet see how the Lord rejected them all, Isaiah i. 11-15, and lxvi. 3. 6. Much knowledge doth deceive many. They think because they can talk of religion, speak to cases of conscience, handle places of Scripture, and the like, that therefore all is right with them; when alas, that is but a slippery ground to stand upon. The Pharisees sat in Moses' seat, and taught sometimes sound doctrine; and yet were heart-enemies to Jesus, Matth. xxiii. And will not many think to plead themselves into heaven, by saying, that they "have prophesied in his name," Matth. vii. 22. There is "a knowledge that puffeth up," 1 Cor. xiii. 2. Some there are whose knowledge seemeth to be operative and practical, and not merely speculative. Some may "escape the pollutions of the world through the knowledge of the Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ," and yet again become entangled therein and overcome; so that "their latter end is worse than the beginning;" see 2 Peter ii. 20, 21, 22. Knowledge, I grant, is good, but it is not Christ, and so it is not the way to the Father; and many, alas! lean to it, and are deceived at last. 7. A kind of seeming seriousness in the performance of duties, and in seeking of God, deceiveth many. They think, because they are not conscious to their own dissembling, but they look upon themselves as earnest in what they do, that therefore all is well. Sayeth not Christ, that not "every one that saith, Lord, Lord, shall enter into the kingdom of God?" Matth. vii. 21; that is, not every one that reneweth their suits, and ingeminateth their desires, cry, and cry over again, and, as it were, will not give it over; and yet they come short of their expectation. Did not the foolish virgins seem earnest and serious, when they continued waiting with the rest, and at length cried "Lord, Lord, open unto us;" and yet they are kept at the door. Many consider not that there is a secret and close hypocrisy, that some may be under and not know it, as well as a gross hypocrisy and dissimulation, which may be easily observed; "Will not many seek to enter in that shall not be able?" Matth. vii. 13. Luke xiii. 24. 8. Many deceive themselves with this, that they are looked on by other godly, discerning persons and ministers, as good serious Christians, and that they carry so handsomely and so fair, that no man can judge otherways of them, than that they are good serious seekers of God. But, alas! the day is coming which will discover many things, and many one will be deceived both of themselves and of others. "Not he who commendeth himself is approved, but whom God approveth," 2 Cor. x. 18. Therefore, Paul exhorts Timothy, "to study to show himself approved unto God," 2 Tim. ii. 15. Men look only on the outside, and cannot see into the heart; but God searcheth the heart; and it is an easy matter to deceive men, but God will not be deceived. 9. Some may suppose themselves in a safe and sure way, if they outstrip others in religious duties, and be much in extraordinary duties, when, alas! for all that, the heart may be rotten. "The Pharisee fasted twice a-week," Luke xviii. 12, and yet was but an enemy to Christ. O how deceitful is the heart of man! 10. Inward peace and quietness of conscience may deceive some; and they may suppose that all is right with them; because they do nothing over the belly of their conscience. Their heart doth not accuse them of falsehood and dissimulation in their way with God or man, but they do all things according to their light. No doubt that young man (Luke xviii. 21,) spoke according to his judgment and light, when he said, "All these things have I kept from my youth." And Paul saith of himself (Acts xxiii. 1,) "that he had lived in all good conscience before God till that very day;" meaning, that even while he was a Pharisee unconverted, he had not tortured his conscience, nor done anything directly against it, but had always walked according to his light. See Acts xxvi. 9. 11. A way of zeal may deceive many who may think their case unquestionable, because they are zealous for their way, and, as they think, their zeal is pure for God. Was not Paul, while a Pharisee, very zealous, when, out of zeal to his way, he persecuted the church, Philip. iii. 6. See my zeal for the Lord, could I thus say, 2 Kings x. 16; and the Jews had a zeal of God, but not according to knowledge, Rom. x. 2; and Christ tells us, that such as should persecute the Apostles unto death, would think they did God good service, John xvi. 2. 12. Some also may put it beyond question, that they are in the right way, because they are more strict in all their ways than others, and will not so much as keep fellowship or company with them; saying, with those, (Isaiah lxv. 5) "Stand by, I am holier than thou, come not near to me," who yet are but a smoke in God's nose, and a fire that burneth all the day. 13. Some may rest on, and deceive themselves with their great attainments, and more than ordinary experiences, when, alas! we see to what a height some may come, and yet prove nothing. Let such souls read with trembling that word of Paul, Heb. vi 4, 5, where we see some may come to be enlightened, to taste of the heavenly gift, to be made partakers of the Holy Ghost, to taste the good word of God, and the powers of the world to come, and yet prove cast-aways; taking these expressions as pointing forth something distinct from real grace. Many such false ways, wherein men please themselves, might be mentioned; by these every one may see cause of searching and trying over and over again. It is a dreadful thing to be deceived here, and it is best to put it to a trial, when there is a possibility of getting the matter helped. And many may fear and tremble when they see they are not yet come the length of many such as sit down without Christ, and lose all their labour. Oh, if this could put people to a serious examination and trial of themselves, and of the nature of that way wherein they are, and rest at present! _Thirdly_, We might here observe, that this true and living way is but one for all. There is but "one Mediator between God and man," 1 Tim. ii. 5. One Mediator for both Old and New Testament, the seed of the woman. Howbeit the Lord's dispensations with his people, in that one way, may be various, as his way with his people under the law is different from his way with his people under the gospel; and his dispensations with individual believers, whether under the law or under the gospel, is not the same in all things. And this should teach us to relinquish our own ways, and to enter into this one only way; and it should move such as are in this way to study unity and agreement among themselves; and yet not infer or suppose, that God's way with them must be in all things alike. Yea, though the Lord's way with them be different from his way with others, and more dark, disconsolate, and bitter, yet let them be quiet and silent before the Lord, and acknowledge his goodness that hath brought them into the one only way, Jesus Christ, and keepeth them there. But, _fourthly,_ The main thing here, and which is obvious, is this, that Jesus Christ is the way to the Father, the one and only way, the sovereign and excellent way, and he alone is the way. There is not another. "Neither is there salvation in any other; for there is none other name under heaven given among men, whereby we must be saved," Acts iv. 12. For clearing of this, we shall speak a little to those four things, and shew, 1. What is our case, and what need we have of a way. 2. How Christ answereth this our case and necessity, and is a fit way for us. 3. How he alone is the way, and answereth this our case. 4. What are the rare advantages and specialities of this way. And this will make way for our clearing up, how Christ is made use of as a way by poor sinners. For the first of these, our present case and necessity, something was spoken to it before; we shall reduce all those to two heads. The first is, our state of guilt, and separation from God because of sin and guilt; the next is, our state of wickedness and enmity against God. As to the first, we may take notice of those things: 1. That sin, original and actual, hath separated us from God, and cast us out of his favour, and out of that station of favour and friendship which once we were advanced to in Adam. 2. That we are under God's curse and wrath, and excommunicated from the presence of the Lord, by a sad, yet just, sentence according to law, and so are under death. As to the next thing, we may take notice of those particulars: 1. That we are impure and polluted with sin and daily iniquity. 2. That we are ignorant of the right way of returning into favour with God, seeking out to ourselves many inventions. 3. That we are impotent for any good work or commanded duty. That not only so, but we are unwilling to do any thing that is good, or to enter into the way when pointed out unto us; yea, we are enemies to God by wicked works, and have an innate hatred to all his ways. 5. We desire not to be out of the condition whereinto we are; there we love to lie and sleep, and desire not to be roused up or awakened. 6. We are under the power and command of Satan, who leadeth us out of the way, yea, and driveth us forward in the wrong way, to our perdition. These things are plain and undeniable, and need no further confirmation; though, alas! it is little believed or laid to heart by many. For the second, how Christ answereth this our case and necessity. He is a way to us to help us out of both these, both out of our state of guilt and separation, and out of our state of wickedness and enmity. And, first, he helpeth us out of our state of guilt and separation: 1. By taking away our guilt and sin; "being made sin for us, who knew no sin, that we might be made the righteousness of God in him," 2 Cor. v. 21. He hath filled the great gap betwixt God and us, with his body, and hath made of it, as it were, a bridge, by which they may go over to the Father: "We enter now into the holiest by the blood of Jesus, by a new and living way, which he hath consecrated for us, through the veil, that is to say, his flesh," Heb. x. 19, 20; "we are now brought near by his blood," Eph. ii. 13, so that through him we are restored again to friendship with God, and made one with him; for Christ the Mediator hath "made both one, reconciling Jews and Gentiles both unto God, in one body, by the cross, having slain the enmity," Eph. ii. 16. 2. By taking away the curse and wrath that was due to us, being "made a curse for us," Gal iii. 13. So that he is become our peace, and "through him we have access by one spirit unto the Father, and are no more strangers and foreigners, but fellow-citizens with the saints, and of the household of God," Eph. ii. 14, 18, 19. "He is set forth to be a propitiation through faith in his blood," Rom. iii. 25. 1 John ii. 2, and iv. 10. "By him have we now received atonement," Rom. v. 11. Next, he helpeth us out of our state of wickedness and enmity, 1. By taking away our impurity and uncleanness, "by washing us and cleansing us in his blood," Ezek. xvi. 6-9. Col. i. 22, "having purchased grace for us," Eph. v. 1, 3, "we are blessed with all spiritual blessings in him." He applieth his merits, and layeth the foundation of grace and holiness in the soul, and carrieth on the work of mortification and vivification; and so killing the old man by his Spirit, both meritoriously and efficiently, he cleanseth and washeth. Hence, we are said to be baptised with him in his death, and buried with him by baptism into death, that we should walk in newness of life. And so our old man is crucified with him, that the body of sin might be destroyed, that henceforth we should not serve sin, Rom. vi. 3, 4, 6. And for our daily infirmities and escapes, whereby we pollute ourselves, his blood "is a fountain opened to the house of David and to the inhabitants of Jerusalem for sin and for uncleanness," Zech. xiii. 1; and to this fountain he bringeth by the spirit of repentance, which he, as an exalted prince, bestoweth, Acts. v. 31, and by faith. So 1 John ii. 1, "if any man sin, we have an advocate with the Father," &c. 2. As for our ignorance and blindness, he taketh that away, being given for a light to the Gentiles, Isa. xlii. 6, and xlix. 6. Luke ii. 32. He is sent to open the blind eyes, Isa. xlii. 7; to bring out the prisoners from their dark prisons, Isa. xlii. 7, and lxi. 1. Yea, he is anointed for this end, so that such as walk in darkness see a great light, and they that dwell in the land of the shadow of death, upon them the light hath shined, Isa. ix. 2. Matth. iv. 15; and he hath eye-salve to give, Rev. iii. 18. 3. He is qualified for taking away our impotency, so that through him we can do all things, Philip, iv. 13; "when we are weak, we are strong in him who is our strength, and liveth in us," 2 Cor. xii. 10. Gal. ii. 20. Hence, "he worketh in us both to will and to do of his own good pleasure," Philip. ii. 13. 4. He also taketh away our natural averseness, unwillingness, wickedness, and hatred of his ways, making his people "willing in the day of his power," Psal. cx. So he taketh away "the enmity that is in us," Col. ii. 20, and reconcileth us to God and to his ways, that our hearts do sweetly comply with them, and we become most willing and glad to walk in them, yea, and "to run the way of his commandments through his enlarging of our hearts," Psal. cxix. 22. 5. He likewise taketh away that desire and willingness, which we have, to lie still in our natural condition, by convincing us of the dreadful hazard thereof, through the spirit of conviction, whereby he convinceth the world of it, John xvi. 8, and circumciseth their ears to hear, and maketh them willing to hearken to the counsel of God. 6. As for the power and dominion of Satan, he breaketh that, by "leading captivity captive," Eph. iv. 8; Psal. lxviii. 18; "and spoiling the strongman's house; for he is come to destroy the works of the devil," 1 John iii. 8; "and he spoileth principalities and powers," Col. ii. 15. Thus, as a captain of salvation, he leadeth them out as a conqueror; having paid the price, he delivereth also by power and authority from the hand of this jailor. And thus we see how he answereth our case and necessity, and is a fit way for us; and though this be not questioned, yet little is it believed and considered, and less put in practice. And as for the third particular, that he alone is this way, and answereth our case herein, it needeth not be much spoken to, since it is clear and manifest, confirmed by the experience of all generations, and the disappointments of fools who have been seeking other ways. Angels in heaven cannot do our business, they cannot satisfy justice for us, nor have they any power over our heart to turn it as they will; nay, they are not acquainted with our secret thoughts, that cabinet is kept close from them, and reserved as the peculiar privilege of God alone. The blood of bulls and of goats cannot do it; for the apostle tells us, that it is impossible for that to take away sin, Heb. x. 4. That blood shed according to the law did cleanse ceremonially, but it is only the blood of Jesus, typified by that, which cleanseth really; so that we are sanctified through the offering of the body of Jesus Christ once for all, Heb. x. 10. No pains or labour of ours can avail here. The Lord will not be pleased with thousands of rams, or with ten thousands of rivers of oil. "He will not take our first-born for our transgression, nor the son of our body for the sin of our soul," Micah vi. 7. Ordinance and means will not do it, nor any invention of our own: "no man can by any means redeem his brother, or give to God a ransom for him; for the redemption of the soul is precious, and it ceaseth for ever," Psal. xlix. 7, 8. He alone hath laid down the price; all our sufferings, prayers, tears, labours, penances, and the like, signify nothing here; they cannot satisfy justice for one sin. As to the fourth particular, viz., the singularity of this way, those things make it manifest and apparent: 1. This is such a way as can discover itself, and make itself known unto the erring traveller. Christ Jesus is such a way as can say to the wandering soul, "this is the way, walk ye in it," Isa. xxx. 25. No way can do this. This is comfortable. 2. This way can not only discover itself to the wandering traveller, but also it can bring folk into it. Christ can bring souls unto himself, when they are running on in their wandering condition. He can move their hearts to turn into the right way, put grace in their soul for this end, begin resolutions in them, and sow the seed of faith; and so stay their course which they were violently pursuing, and make them look about and consider what they are doing. As the former was good news to poor, blind, and witless creatures that were wandering and knew not whither they were going; so this is good news to poor souls that find their heart inclining to wander, and loving to go astray. 3. This way can cause us walk in it. If we be rebellious and obstinate, he can command with authority; for he is given for a leader and commander, Isa. lv. 4. How sweet should this be to the soul that is weighted with a stubborn, untractable, and unpersuadable heart, that he, as a king, governor, and commander, can with authority draw or drive, and cause us follow and run? 4. This way is truth, as well as the way; so that the soul that once entereth in here is safe for ever; no wandering here. "The wayfaring men, though fools, shall not err in this way," Isa. xxxv. 8. "He will bring the blind by a way that they knew not, and lead them in paths that they have not known; he will make darkness light before them, and crooked things straight; those things will he do unto them, and not forsake them," Isa. xlii. 16. 5. This way is also life, and so can revive the faint and weary traveller. "He giveth power to the faint, and to them that have no might he increaseth strength; yea, he renews their strength, and makes them mount up with wings as eagles, and run and not be weary, and walk and not be faint," Isa. xl. 29, 31; "and so he giveth legs to the traveller, yea, he carrieth the lambs in his bosom," Isa. xl. 11. Oh! who would not walk in this way? what can discourage the man that walketh here? what can he fear? No way can quicken and refresh the weary man. This way can do it; yea, it can quicken one that is as dead, and cause him march on with fresh alacrity and vigour. 6. From all these it followeth, that this way is a most pleasant, heartsome, desirable and comfortable way. The man is safe here, and he may "sing in the ways of the Lord," Psalm cxxxviii. 5. "For wisdom's ways are ways of pleasantness, and all her paths are peace," Prov. iii. 17. He is a way that is food, physic, cordials, and all that the poor traveller standeth in need of till he come hence. From all which, ere we come to particulars, we shall in general point out those duties, which natively result thence, by way of use. 1. O what cause is there here for all of us to fall a wondering, both that God should ever have condescended to have appointed a way how sinners and rebels, that had wickedly departed from him, and deserved to be cast out of his presence and favour for ever, might come back again, and enjoy happiness and felicity in the friendship and favour of that God that could have got the glory of his justice in our destruction, and stood in no need of us, or of any thing we could do: as also, that he appointed such a way, that Jesus Christ his only Son, should, to speak so, lie as a bridge betwixt God and sinful rebels, and as a highway, that they might return to the great God upon him. Let all the creation of God wonder at this wonderful condescending love of God, that appointed such a way; and of Christ, that was content to lout so low as to become this way to us, this new and living way; and that for this end he should have taken on flesh, and become Emmanuel, God with us, and tabernacled with us, that through this vail of his flesh, he might consecrate a way to us. Let angels wonder at this condescendency. 2. Hence we may see ground of being convinced of those things: (1.) That naturally we are out of the way to peace and favour with God, and in a way that leadeth to death, and so that our misery and wretchedness, so long as it is so, cannot be expressed. (2.) That we can do nothing for ourselves; set all our wits a-work, we cannot fall upon a way that will bring us home. (3.) That it is madness for us to seek out another way, and to vex ourselves in vain, to run to this and to that mean or invention of our own, and be found fools in the end. (4.) That our madness is so much the greater in this, that we will turn to our own ways that will fail us, when there is such a noble and excellent, and every way satisfying way prepared to our hand. (5.) That our wickedness is so desperate, that the way which is pointed out to us doth not please us, and that we will not enter into it, nor walk in it. (6.) That this way, which is also the truth and the life, is only worth the embracing, and is only safe and sure; we should be convinced and persuaded of the worth, sufficiency, and desirableness of this way. Reason, with ordinary light from the word, may teach these things; but grace can only carry them into the heart, and make them take rooting there. 3. We may read here our obligation to those particulars: (1.) To turn our back upon all other false and deceitful ways, and not rest there. (2.) To enter into this way, though "the gate be narrow and strait," Matt vii. 13. Luke xiii. 24, yet "to strive to enter in." (3.) To resolve to abide in that way as acquiescing in it, resting satisfied with it, and thus to be "rooted in him," Col. ii. 7, and "to dwell in him," 1 John iii. 24, and "to live in him," or "through him," 1 John iv. 9. (4.) To "walk in this way," Col. ii. 6. that is, to make constant use of him, and to make progress in the way in and through him; to go from strength to strength in him, drawing all our furniture from him, by faith, according to the covenant; and that the soul should guard against, 1. stepping aside out of this good and pleasant way; 2. backsliding; 3. sitting up, and fainting by the way. In a word, this pointeth out our duty, to make use of Christ as our way to the Father, and only of Christ; and this leads us to the particulars we shall speak a little to. There are two main things which stand in our way, and hinder us from approaching to the Father. 1. Unrighteousness and guilt, whereby we are legally banished, because of the broken covenant, and the righteous sentence of God according to that covenant. And, 2. Wickedness, impurity, and unholiness, which is, as a physical bar, lying in our way; because nothing that is unclean can dwell and abide with him, who is of purer eyes than he can behold iniquity; and nothing that is unclean can enter in there where he is. So then there must be an use-making of Christ, as a way through both these impediments; we need justification and pardon for the one, and sanctification and cleansing for the other. Now Christ being the way to the Father, both as to justification, in taking away the enmity, in changing our state, and removing our unrighteousness and guilt, whereby we were lying under the sentence of the law, adjudging such sinners as we are to hell; and as to sanctification, in cleansing us from all our pollutions, renewing our souls, washing away our spots and defilements, &c. He must be made use of in reference to both. In speaking to the _first_, we shall be the shorter, because through God's great mercy, the gospel's pure way of justification by faith in Christ is richly and abundantly cleared up by many worthy authors, of late, both as concerning the theoretical and practical part. CHAPTER IV. HOW CHRIST IS MADE USE OF FOR JUSTIFICATION AS A WAY. What Christ hath done to purchase, procure, and bring about our justification before God, is mentioned already, viz. That he stood in the room of sinners, engaging for them as their cautioner, undertaking, and at length paying down the ransom; becoming sin, or a sacrifice for sin, and a curse for them, and so laying down his life a ransom to satisfy divine justice; and this he hath made known in the gospel, calling sinners to an accepting of him as their only Mediator, and to a resting upon him for life and salvation; and withal, working up such, as belong to the election of grace, to an actual closing with him upon the conditions of the covenant, and to an accepting of him, believing in him, and resting upon him, as satisfied with, and acquiescing in that sovereign way of salvation and justification through a crucified Mediator. Now, for such as would make use of Christ as the way to the Father in the point of justification, those things are requisite; to which we shall only premise this word of caution, That we judge not the want of these requisites a ground to exempt any, that heareth the gospel, from the obligation to believe and rest upon Christ as he is offered in the gospel. 1. There must be a conviction of sin and misery. A conviction of original guilt, whereby we are banished out of God's presence and favour, and are in a state of enmity and death, are come short of the glory of God, Rom. iii. 23; becoming dead or under the sentence of death, through the offence of one, Rom. v. 15; being made sinners by one man's disobedience, verse 19, and therefore under the reigning power of death, verse 17, and under that judgment that came upon all men to condemnation, verse 18. And of original innate wickedness, whereby the heart is filled with enmity against God, and is a hater of him and all his ways, standing in full opposition to him and to his holy laws; loving to contradict and resist him in all his actings; despising and undervaluing all his condescensions of love; obstinately refusing his goodness and offers of mercy; and peremptorily persisting in rebellion and heart-opposition; not only not accepting his kindness and offers of mercy, but contemning them, trampling them under foot as embittered against him. As also, there must be a conviction of our actual transgressions, whereby we have corrupted our ways yet more, run farther away from God, brought on more wrath upon our souls, according to that sentence of the law, "Cursed is everyone that abideth not in all things that are written in the law to do them," Deut. xxvii. 26. Gal. iii. 10. What way this conviction is begun and carried on in the soul, and to what measure it must come, I cannot now stand to explain; only, in short, know, That upon whatever occasion it be begun, whether by a word carried home to the heart by the finger of God, or by some sharp and crossing dispensation, fear of approaching death, some heinous out-breaking, or the like, it is a real thing, a heart-reaching conviction, not general and notional, but particular, plain, and pinching, affecting the heart with fear and terror, making the soul seriously and really to mind this matter, to be taken up with the thoughts of it, and anxiously and earnestly to cry out, "What shall I do to be saved?" and finally, will make the soul willing to hearken and hear what hopes of mercy there is in the gospel, and to embrace the way of salvation which is there laid down. And the reason of this is, because Christ himself tells us, "The whole needeth not the physician, but the sick," Matt. ix. 12. "He is not come to call the righteous," that is, such as are righteous in their own eyes, "but sinners," that is, such as are now no more whole at the heart, as seeing no evil, no hazard or danger, but pricked and pierced with the sense of their lost condition, being under the heavy wrath and vengeance of the great God, because of sin; and seeing their own vileness, cursedness, wickedness and desperate madness. Because naturally we hate God and Christ, John xv. 23-25, and have a strong and natural antipathy at the way of salvation through Jesus, therefore nothing but strong and inevitable necessity will drive us to a compliance with this gospel device of love. 2. There must be some measure of humiliation. Under this conviction the man is bowed down, and made mute before God; no more boasting of his goodness and of his happy condition; no high or great thoughts of his righteousness; for all are looked on now as "filthy rags," Isa. lxv. 6. "What things were as gain before to the soul, must now be counted loss, yea, and as dung," Philip, iii. 7, 8. The man must be cast down in himself, and far from high and conceity thoughts of himself, or of any thing he ever did or can do. "For the Lord resisteth the proud, but giveth grace to the humble," James iv. 6; 1 Pet. v. 5. "He reviveth the spirit of the humble," Isa. lvii. 15. "He that humbleth himself shall be exalted," Matt. xviii. 4, and xxiii. 12; Luke xiv. 11, and xviii. 14. 3. There must be a despairing of getting help or relief out of this condition, by ourselves, or any thing we can do; a conviction of the unprofitableness of all things under the sun for our relief. No expectation of help from our supposed good heart, good purposes, good deeds, works of charity, many prayers, commendations of others, sober and harmless walking, or anything else within us or without us that is not Christ. For, so long as we have the least hope or expectation of doing our own business without Christ, we will not come to him. Our heart hangeth so after the old way of salvation through works, that we cannot endure to hear of any other, nor can we yield to any other. Could we but have heaven by the way of works, we would spare no pains, no cost, no labour, no expenses; nay, we would put ourselves to much pain and torment by whippings, cuttings, fastings, watchings, and the like; we would spare our first-born; nay, we would dig our graves in a rock with our nails, and cut our own days, could we but get heaven by this means; such is our antipathy at the way of salvation through a crucified Christ, that we would choose any way but that, cost what it would; therefore, before we can heartily close with Christ and accept of him, we must be put from those refuges of lies, and see that there is nothing but a disappointment written on them all, that all our prayers, fastings, cries, duties, reformations, sufferings, good wishes, good deeds, &c. are nothing in his eyes, but so many provocations to the eyes of his jealousy, and so, further causes of our misery. 4. There must be a rational, deliberate, and resolute relinquishing of all those things in ourselves, on which our heart is ready to dote. The man being convinced of the vanity of all things by which he hath been hoping for salvation, must now purpose to lose his grips of them, to turn his back upon them, to quit them with purpose of heart, and to say to them, get you hence, as Isa. xxx. 22. This is to deny ourselves, which we must do ere we become his disciples, Matt. xvi. 24. This is to forsake our father's house, Psalm xlv. 10, and to pluck out our right eye, and to cut off our right arm, Matth. v. 29, 30. This abandoning of all our false propes and subterfuges must be resolute, over the belly of much opposition within, from the carnal and natural inclinations of the heart; and of much opposition without, from Satan's ensnaring suggestions and deceitful temptations: It must be a real, rational act of the soul, upon solid and thorough conviction of their unprofitableness, yea, of their dangerousness and destructiveness. 5. There must be some knowledge of the nature of the gospel covenant, and of the way which now God hath chosen whereby to glorify his grace in the salvation of poor sinners. That God, Father, Son, and Holy Ghost thought good, for the glory of free grace and wisdom, in a way of justice and mercy, to send Jesus Christ to assume man's nature, and so become God and man in two distinct natures, and one person, for ever; and to become under the law, to undergo the curse thereof, and to die the cursed death of the cross, to satisfy justice, and pay the ransom for the redemption of the elect. In which undertaking our Lord was a servant, Isa. xlii. 1, and xlix. 6, and lii. 13, and liii. 11. Zech. iii. 8. Matt. xii. 18; and had furniture from God for all his undertaking, Isa. xlii. 1, and lxi. 1, 2. Matt. xii. 18; and had a promise of seeing his seed, and of prolonging his days, &c. Isa. xliii. 10, 11. Thus there was a covenant of redemption betwixt God and the Mediator; and the Mediator undertaking, was obliged to perform all that he undertook, and accordingly did so. For, as the Lord laid on him, or caused to meet together on him, "the iniquity of us all," Isa. liii. 6, so in due time "he bare our griefs, and carried our sorrows. He was wounded for our transgressions, and bruised for our iniquities, the chastisement of our peace was upon him. He was cut off out of the land of the living, and stricken for the transgression of his people; he made his soul an offering for sin, and bare the iniquities of his people. Pouring out his soul unto death he bare the sin of many, and made intercession for the transgressors," Isa. liii. 4, 5, 10, 11, 12. So "that what the law could not do, in that it was weak through the flesh, God sending his own Son in the likeness of sinful flesh, for sin (or by a sacrifice for sin) condemned sin in the flesh," Rom. viii. 3, "that the righteousness of the law might be fulfilled in us," verse 4. Thus "he made him sin (or a sacrifice for sin) that we might become righteous," 2 Cor. v. 20; and "he was once offered to bear the sins of many," Heb. ix. 28; and "he, through the eternal Spirit, offered himself without spot to God," verse 14, and "his own self bare our sins in his own body on the tree," 1 Pet. ii. 24. There must, I say, be some knowledge of, and acquaintance with this great mystery of the gospel, wherein is declared "the manifold wisdom of God," Eph. iii. 10, and with the noble design of God, in sending his Son, after this manner, to die the death, that condemned sinners might live, and return to the bosom of God; as redeemed "not with gold or silver, or corruptible things but with the precious blood of Christ, as of a lamb without blemish and without spot," 1 Pet. i. 18. And being "so redeemed by blood, to become kings and priests unto God," 1 Pet. ii. 2. Rev. v. 9, 10. The man must not be ignorant of this, else all will be in vain. I do not determine how distinct and full this knowledge must be; but sure there must be so much knowledge of it, as will give the soul ground of hope, and, in expectation of salvation by this way, cause it turn its back upon all other ways, and account itself happy if it could once win here. 6. There must be a persuasion of the sufficiency, completeness and satisfactoriness of the way of salvation through this crucified Mediator, else the soul will not be induced to leave its other courses, and betake itself to this alone. He must be sure that salvation is only to be had this way, and that undoubtedly it will be had this way, that so with confidence he may cast himself over on this way, and sweetly sing of a noble outgate. And therefore he must believe, that Christ is really God as well as man, and a true man as well as God; that he is fully furnished for the work of redemption, having the Spirit given to him without measure; and endued fully and richly with all qualifications fitting for all our necessities, and enabling him to "save to the uttermost all that come unto God by him," Heb. vii. 25; that "he is made of God to us wisdom, righteousness, and sanctification," 1 Cor. i. 30; that "all power in heaven and in earth is given unto him," Matt. xxviii. 18; that "all things are put under his feet;" and that "he is given to be Head over all things to the church," Eph. i. 22; that "in him dwelleth all fulness," Col. i. 19; that "in him are hid all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge," Col. ii. 3; yea, "that in him dwelleth all the fulness of the Godhead bodily;" so that we are "complete in him, who is the head of all principality and power," verses 9, 10. 7. The soul must know that he is not only an able and all-sufficient Mediator, but that also he is willing and ready to redeem and save all that will come. For all the preceding particulars will but increase his sorrow and torment him more, so long as he supposeth, through ignorance and the suggestion of Satan, that he hath no part in that redemption, no access to it, no ground of hope of salvation by it. Therefore it is necessary that the soul conceive not only a possibility, but also a probability of help this way, and that the dispensation of the gospel of grace, and the promulgation and offer of these good news to him, speak out so much, that the patience of God waiting long, and his goodness renewing the offers, confirmeth this; that his serious pressing, his strong motives, on the one hand, and his sharp threatenings on the other; his reiterated commands, his ingeminated obtestations; his expressed sorrow and grief over such as would not come to him; his upbraiding and objurations of such as do obstinately refuse, and the like, put his willingness to save such as will come to him out of all question. Yea, his obviating of objections, and taking all excuses out of their mouth, maketh the case plain and manifest, so that such as will not come are left without excuse, and have no impediment lying in the way but their own unwillingness. 8. The man must know upon what terms and conditions Christ offereth himself in the gospel, viz. upon condition of accepting of him, believing in him, and resting upon him; and that no other way we can be made partakers of the good things purchased by Christ, but by accepting of him as he is offered in the gospel, that is to say, freely, "without price or money," Isa. lv. 1, absolutely without reservation, wholly, and for all ends, &c. For, till this be known, there will be no closing with Christ; and till there be a closing with Christ, there is no advantage to be had by him. The soul must be married to him as an husband, fixed to him as the branches to the tree, united to him as the members to the head, become one with him, "one spirit," 1 Cor. vi. 17. See John xv. 5. Eph. v. 30. The soul must close with him for all things, adhere to him upon all hazards, take him and the sharpest cross that followeth him. Now, I say, the soul must be acquainted with these conditions; for it must act deliberately and rationally here. Covenanting with Christ is a grave business, and requireth deliberation, posedness of soul, rational resolution, full purpose of heart, and satisfaction of soul, and therefore the man must be acquainted with the conditions of the new covenant. 9. There must be a satisfaction with the terms of the gospel, and the heart must actually close with Christ as he is offered in the gospel. The heart must open to him, and take him in, Rev. iii. 20. The soul must embrace and receive him, John i. 12. The man must take him as his Lord and Master, King, Priest, and Prophet; must give up himself to him as his leader and commander, and resolve to follow him in all things, and thus close a bargain with him; for, till this be done, there is no union with Christ, and, till there be an union with Christ, there is no partaking of the fruits of his redemption as to justification, no pardon, no acceptance, no access to the favour of God, nor peace nor joy in the Holy Ghost, no getting of the conscience sprinkled, nor no intimation of love or favour from God, &c. 10. There must be a leaning to and resting upon him and on his perfect sacrifice. The soul must sit down here as satisfied, and acquiesce in this complete mediation of his. This is to believe on him, to rest on him, John iii. 18. 1 Pet. ii. 6, as an all-sufficient help. This is to cast the burden of a broken covenant, of a guilty conscience, of deserved wrath, of the curse of the law, &c. upon him, that he may bear away those evils from us. This is to put on the Lord Jesus (in part), Rom. xiii. 14; to cover ourselves with his righteousness from the face of justice, to stand in this armour of proof against the accusations of law, Satan, and an evil conscience. This is to flee to him as our city of refuge, that we may be safe from the avenger of blood. This is to make him our refuge from the storm of God's anger, and a shadow from the heat of his wrath, Isa. xxv. 4, and "our hiding-place from the wind, and a covert from the tempest," and as the "shadow of a great rock in a weary land," Isa. xxxii. 2. When we hide ourselves in him as the complete cautioner that hath fully satisfied justice, and "desire to be found in him alone, not having our own righteousness, which is of the law, but that which is through the faith of Christ, the righteousness which is of God by faith," Phil. iii. 9. This is to lay our hand on the head of the sacrifice, when we rest on this sacrifice, and expect salvation through it alone. This is to cast ourselves in Christ's arms, as peremptorily resolving to go no other way to the Father, and to plead no other righteousness before God's bar but Christ's; that is faith, yea, the lively acting of justifying faith. Thus then is Christ made use of as the way to the Father, in the point of justification, when the poor awakened sinner, convinced of his sin and misery, of his own inability to help himself, of the insufficiency of all means beside Christ, of Christ's all-sufficiency, readiness, and willingness to help, of the equity and reasonableness of the conditions on which he is offered, and life through him, is now content and fully satisfied with this way, actually renouncing all other ways whatsoever, and doth with heart and hand embrace Jesus Christ, and take him as he is offered in the gospel, to make use of him for all things, to Jean to him, and rest upon him in all hazards, and particularly, to refuge itself under his wings, and to rest there with complacency, satisfaction, and delight, and hide itself from the wrath of God and all accusations. Yet it should be known, that this act of faith, whereby the soul goeth out to Christ, and accepteth of and leaneth to him, is not alike in all. 1. In some it may be more lively, strong and active, like the centurion's faith, that could argue syllogistically, Matt. viii. 8, &c, which Christ looked upon as a great faith, a greater whereof he had not found, no not in Israel, verse 10; and like the faith of the woman of Canaan, Matt. xv. 21, &c, that would take no naysay, but of seeming refusals did make arguments, which Christ commendeth as a great faith, verse 28. But in others it may be more weak and fainting, not able to reason aright for its own comfort and strength, as Matt, vi. 30, but is mixed with much fear, as Matt. viii. 26, yea, and with much faithfulness, so that the soul must cry, "Lord, help my unbelief!" Mark ix. 24. 2. In some the acts and actings of this faith may be more clear and discernible, both by themselves, and by spiritual onlookers; in others, so covered over with a heap of doubts, unbelief, jealousy, and other corruption, that the actings of it can hardly, or not at all, be perceived by themselves or others; so that nothing shall be heard but complaints, fears, doubtings, and objections. 3. In some, this faith may have strong and perceptible actings, wrestling through much discouragement and opposition, and many difficulties; as in the woman of Canaan, Matt. xv.; running through with peremptory resoluteness, saying, with Job, chap. xiii. 15, "Though he slay me, yet will I trust in him;" and thus taking the kingdom of heaven with violence. In others it may be so weak, that the least opposition or discouragement may be sufficient to make the soul give over hope, and almost despair of overcoming and winning through, and be as a bruised reed or a smoking flax. 4. In some, though it appear not strong and violent or wilful (in a manner) in its actings, yet it may be firm, fixed, and resolute in staying upon him, Isa. xxvi. 3, 4, and trusting in him, Psalm cxxv. 1, resolving to hing there, and if it perish, it perisheth; in others weak and bashful. 5. In some it may be yet weaker, going out in strong and vehement hungerings, Matt. v. 6. The man dare not say, that he doth believe or that he doth adhere to Christ and stay upon him; yet he dare say, he longeth for him, and panteth after him, as ever "the hart doth after the water-brooks," Psalm xlii. 1, 2; he hungereth and thirsteth for him, and cannot be satisfied with any thing without him. 6. In some, it may be so weak, that the soul can only perceive the heart looking out after him; upon little more ground than a maybe it shall be helped, Isa. xlv. 22. They look to him for salvation, being convinced that there is no other way; and resolved to follow no other way, they resolve to lie at his door, waiting and looking for a sight of the king's face, and to lie waiting till they die, if no better may be. 7. In some, it may be so weak, that nothing more can be perceived but a satisfaction with the terms of the covenant, a willingness to accept of the bargain, and an heart consenting thereunto, though they dare not say that they actually close therewith, yea, nor dare say that they shall be welcome, Rev. xxii. 17. 8. In some, it may be so weak and low, that they cannot say that they have any right hunger or desire after him, nor that their heart doth rightly and really consent to the covenant of grace; yet they would fain be at it, and cry out, O for a willing heart! O for ardent desires! O for a right hunger! and they are dissatisfied, and cannot be reconciled with their hearts for not desiring more, hungering more, consenting more; so that, if they had this, they would think themselves happy and up-made. And thus we see their faith is so low, that it appeareth in nothing more manifestly, than in their complainings of the want of it. So then, the poor weak believer needeth not to be so far discouraged as to despair and give over the matter as hopeless and lost; let him hang on, depend and wait. A weak faith to-day may become stronger within a short time. He that laid the foundation can and will finish the building, for all his works are perfect. And a weak faith, when true, will prove saving, and lay hold on a saving strong Mediator. Moreover, as to the acting of faith on Christ's death and sacrifice for the stopping the mouth of conscience, law, Satan, and for the opposing to the pursuing justice of God because of sin, it may sometimes be strong, distinct, clear, and resolute; at other times again be weak, mixed, or accompanied with much fear, perplexity, doubting, and distrust, because of their own seen unworthiness, many failings, doubtings of the sincerity of their repentance, and the like. This is a main business, and of great concernment, yet many are not much troubled about it, nor exercised at the heart hereabout, as they ought, deceiving themselves with foolish imaginations: For, 1. They think they were believers all their days, they never doubted of God's grace and good-will, they had always a good heart for God, though they never knew what awakened conscience, or sense of the wrath of God meant. 2. Or they think, because God is merciful, he will not be so severe as to stand upon all those things that ministers require; forgetting that he is a just God, and a God of truth, that will do according to what he hath said. 3. Or they suppose it is an easy matter to believe, and not such a difficult thing as it is called; not considering or believing, that no less power than that which raised Christ from the dead, will work up the heart unto faith. 4. Or they resolve, that they will do it afterward, at some more convenient season; not perceiving the cunning slight of Satan in this, nor considering, that faith is not in their power, but the gift of God; and that, if they lay not hold on the call of God, but harden their heart in their day, God may judicially blind them, so that these things shall be hid from their eyes; and so that occasion, they pretend to wait for, never come. Oh! if such whom this mainly concerneth, could be induced to enter into this way; considering, 1. That except they enter into this way they cannot be safe, the wrath of God will pursue them, the avenger of blood will overtake them; no salvation but here. 2. That in this way is certain salvation; this way will infallibly lead to the Father; for he keepeth in the way, and bringeth safe home, Exod. xxiii. 20. 3. 'Tis the old path and the good way, Jer. vi. 16; all the saints have the experience of this, who are already come to glory. And, 4. It is a highway, and a way of righteousness, wherein, if very fools walk, they shall not wander, Isa. xxxv. 8, 9, and if the weak walk in it, they shall not faint, Isa. xl. 31. 5. That except this be done, there is no advantage to be had by him; his death and all his sufferings, as to those persons that will not believe and enter into him as the way to the Father, are in vain. 6. Yea, such as will not believe in him say, in effect, either that Christ hath not died nor consecrated a way through the vail of his flesh; or, that all that he hath done and suffered is not sufficient to bring a soul home to God; or that they can do their own business without him, and that it was a foolish and vain thing for Christ to die the death for that end; or, lastly, that they care not for salvation; they are indifferent whether they perish or be saved. 7. That, as to them, the whole gospel is in vain, all the ordinances, all the administration of ordinances, all the pains of ministers, are in vain. 8. That, as to them, all Christ's intreaties, motives, allurements, patience and long-suffering, his standing at the door and knocking till his locks be wet with the dew, &c. are in vain; yea, they are contemptuously rejected, despised, slighted, and undervalued. 9. That all the great promises are by such rejected as untrue, or as not worthy the seeking or having; and that all the threatenings, on the other hand, are not to be regarded or feared. 10. In a word, that heaven and the fellowship of God is not worth the seeking, and that hell and the fellowship of devils is not worth the fearing; or, that there is neither a heaven nor a hell, and that all are but fictions; and that there is no such thing as the wrath of God against sinners, or that it is not much to be feared. If it be asked, what warrant have poor sinners to lay hold on Christ, and grip to him, as made of God righteousness? I answer, 1. our absolute necessity of him is a ground to press us to go and seek help and relief: we see we are gone in ourselves, and therefore are we allowed to seek out for help elsewhere. 2. Christ's all-sufficient furniture, whereby he is a qualified Mediator, fitted with all necessaries for our case and condition, having laid down a price to the satisfaction of justice, is a sufficient invitation for us to look toward him for help, and to wait at that door. 3. His being appointed of the Father to be Mediator of the covenant, and particularly, to lay down his life a ransom for sin; and Christ's undertaking all his offices, and performing all the duties thereof, conform to the covenant of redemption, is a strong encouragement to poor sinners to come to him, because he cannot deny himself, and he will be true to his trust. 4. The Father's offering of him to us in the gospel, and Christ's inviting us who are weary and heavy laden; yea, calling and commanding such to come to him in his own and in his Father's name, under the pain of his and his Father's wrath and everlasting displeasure; exhorting further, and requesting upon terms of love, pressing earnestly by many motives, sending out his ambassadors to beseech in his stead poor sinners to be reconciled, and to turn in to him for life and salvation; yea, upbraiding such as will not come to him. All these are a sufficient warrant for a poor necessitous sinner to lay hold on his offer. And, further, to encourage poor souls to come unto him, all things are so well ordered in the gospel, as that nothing occurreth that can in the least prove a stumbling-block or a just ground of excuse for their forbearing to believe and to accept of his offers. All objections possible are obviated to such as are but willing; the way is cast up, and all stones of stumbling cast out of it; so that such as will not come can pretend no excuse. They cannot object the greatness of their sins: for the greater their sins be they have the greater need of one who is sent to take away sin, and whose blood purgeth from all sin, 1 John i. 7. What great sinner did he ever refuse that came to him, and was willing to be saved by him? Is there any clause in all the gospel excluding great sinners? Nor need they object their great unworthiness; for he doth all freely for the glory of his free grace. None ever got any good of him for their worth; for no man ever had any worth. Nor need they object their long refusing and resisting many calls; for he will make such as are willing welcome at the eleventh hour; him that cometh he will in no case put away, John vi. 37. Nor can they object their changeableness, that they will not stand to the bargain, but break and return with the dog to the vomit; for Christ hath engaged to bring all through that come unto him; he will raise them up at the last day, John vi. 40; he will present them to himself holy and without spot or wrinkle, or any such thing, Eph. v. The covenant is fully provided with promises to stop the mouth of that objection. Nor can they object the difficulty or impossibility of believing; for that is Christ's work also, he "is the author and finisher of faith," Heb. xii. 1. Can they not with confidence cast themselves upon him; yet if they can hunger and thirst for him, and look to him, he will accept of that; "look to me," says he, "and be saved," Isa. xlv. 22. If they cannot look to him, nor hunger and thirst for him, yet if they be willing, all is well. Are they willing that Christ save them in his way, and therefore willingly give themselves over to him, and are willing and content that Christ, by his Spirit, work more hunger in them, and a more lively faith, and work both to will and to do according to his own good pleasure, it is well. But it will be said, that the terms and conditions on which he offereth himself are hard. Answer--I grant the terms are hard to flesh and blood, and to proud unmortified nature; but to such as are willing to be saved, so as God may be most glorified, the terms are easy, most rational and satisfying: for, 1. We are required to take him only for our Mediator, and to join none with him, and to mix nothing with him. Corrupt nature is averse from this, and would at least mix something of self with him, and not rest on Christ only: corrupt nature would not have the man wholly denying himself, and following Christ only. And hence many lose themselves, and lose all; because, with the Galatians, they would mix the law and the gospel together; do something themselves for satisfaction of justice, and take Christ for the rest that remains. Now, the Lord will have all the glory, as good reason is, and will have none to share with him; he will give of his glory to none. And is not this rational and easy? What can be objected against this? 2. We are required to take him wholly, that he may be a complete Mediator to us; as a prophet to teach, as a king to subdue our lusts, to cause us to walk in his ways, as well as a priest to satisfy justice for us, to die and intercede for us. Is it not reason that we take him as God hath made him for us? Is there any thing in him to be refused? And is there any thing in him which we have no need of? Is there not all the reason then in the world for this, that we take him wholly? And what stumbling-block is here? 3. We are required to take him freely, "without money and without price," Isa. lv. 1, for he will not be bought any manner of way; that free grace may be free grace, therefore he will give all freely. True enough it is, corruption would be at buying, though it have nothing to lay out. Pride will not stoop to a free gift. But can any say the terms are hard, when all is offered freely? 4. We are required to take them absolutely, without any reversion of mental reservation. Some would willingly quit all but one or two lusts they cannot think to twin with; and they would deny themselves in many things, but they would still most willingly keep a back-door open to some beloved lust or other. And who seeth not what double dealing is here? And what reason can plead for this double dealing? Corruption, it is true, will think this hard, but no man can rationally say that this is a just ground of discouragement to any, or a sufficient ground to warrand them to stay away from Christ, seeing they cannot be supposed sincerely to desire redemption from any sin, who would not desire redemption from every sin. He who loveth any known lust, and would not willingly be delivered therefrom, hath no real hatred at any lust, as such, nor desire to be saved; for one such lust would be his death. 5. It is required, that we accept of him really and cordially, with our heart and soul, and not by a mere external verbal profession, And is there not all the reason in the world for this? He offereth himself really to us, and shall we not be real in accepting of him? What, I pray, can be justly excepted against this? or, what real discouragement can any gather from this? 6. We are to take him for all necessaries, that is, with a resolution to make use of him as our all-sufficient Mediator. And is not this most reasonable? Ought we not to take him for all the ends and purposes for which God hath appointed him, and set him forth, and offered him to us? What then can any suppose to lie here which should scar a soul from laying hold upon him? Nay, should not this be looked upon as a very great encouragement? And should we not bless the Lord, that hath provided such a complete and all-sufficient Mediator? 7. We are to take him and all the crosses that may attend our taking or following of him; we must take up our cross, be it what it will that he thinketh good to appoint to us, and follow him, Matt. xvi. 24. Mark viii. 34. "For he that taketh not up his cross, and followeth not after him, is not worthy of him," Matt. x. 38. I know flesh and blood will take this for a hard saying; but they that consider, that Christ will bear the heaviest end of the cross, yea, all of it, and so support them by his Spirit while they are under it, that they shall have no just cause to complain; and how he will suffer none to go his errand upon their own charges, but will be with them when they go through the fire and water, Isa. xliii. 2, so that they shall suffer no loss, neither shall the waters overflow them, nor the fire kindle upon them; and that he who loseth his life for Christ's sake and the gospel's, shall save it, Mark viii. 35; yea, that they shall receive an hundred-fold for all their losses, Matt. xix. 29, and that even with persecution, Mark x. 30, and, in the world to come, eternal life. They, I say, who consider this, will see no discouragement here, nor ground of complaint; nay, they will account it their glory to suffer any loss for Christ's sake. 8. Hence it followeth, that we are to take him, so as to avouch him and his cause and interest on all hazards, stand to his truth, and not be ashamed of him in a day of trial. Confession of him must be made with the mouth, as with the heart we must believe, Rom. x. 9. Let corruption speak against this what it will, because it is always desirous to keep the skin whole. Yet reason cannot but say that it is equitable, especially seeing he hath said, that "whosoever confesseth him before men, he will confess them before his Father which is in heaven," Matt. x. 32. And that, "If we suffer with him, we shall also reign with him," 2 Tim. ii. 12. Is he our Lord and master, and should we not own and avouch him? Should we be ashamed of him for any thing, that can befall us, upon that account? What master would not take that ill at his servant's hands? Hence, then, we see, that there is nothing in all the conditions on which he offereth himself to us, that can give the least ground, in reason, why a poor soul should draw back, and be unwilling to accept of this noble offer, or think that the conditions are hard. But there is one main objection, which may trouble some, and that is, they cannot believe; faith being the gift of God, it must be wrought in them; how then can they go to God for this, and make use of Christ for this end, that their souls may be wrought up to a believing and consenting to the bargain, and hearty accepting of the offer? To this I would say these things: 1. It is true, that "faith is the gift of God," Eph. ii. 8, and that it is "he alone who worketh in us, both to will and to do," Phil. i. 29, "and none cometh to the Son, but whom the Father draweth," John vi. 44; and it is a great matter, and no small advancement, to win to the real faith, and through conviction of this our impotency. For thereby the soul will be brought to a greater measure of humiliation, and of despairing of salvation in itself, which is no small advantage unto a poor soul that would be saved. 2. Though faith be not in our power, yet it is our duty. Our impotency to perform our duty, doth not loose our obligation to the duty; so that our not believing is our sin; and for this God may justly condemn us. His wrath abideth on all who believe not in his Son Jesus, and will not accept of the offer of salvation through the crucified Mediator. And though faith, as all other acts of grace, be efficiently the work of the Spirit, yet it is formally our work: we do believe; but it is the Spirit that worketh faith in us. 3. The ordinary way of the Spirit's working faith in us, is by pressing home the duty upon us, whereby we are brought to a despairing in ourselves, and to a looking out to him, whose grace alone it is that can work it in the soul, for that necessary help and breathing, without which the soul will not come. 4. Christ Jesus hath purchased this grace of faith to all the elect, as other graces necessary to their salvation; and it is promised and covenanted to him, "That he shall see his seed, and shall see of the travail of his soul," Isa. liii. 10; and that by the knowledge of him, that is, the rational and understanding act of the soul gripping to and laying hold upon him, as he is offered in the gospel, "many shall be justified," Isa. liii. 10. Hence he saith, "That all whom the Father hath given to him, shall come unto him," John vi. 37; and the apostle tells us, "that we are blessed with all spiritual blessings in him," Eph. i. 3. 5. Not only hath Christ purchased this grace of faith, and all other graces necessary for the salvation of the elect, but God hath committed to him the administration and actual dispensation, and out-giving of all those graces, which the redeemed stand in need of. Hence "he is a prince exalted to give repentance and forgiveness of sins," Acts v. 31. "All power in heaven and earth is committed unto him," Matt, xxviii. 18, 19. Hence he is called, "the author and finisher of faith," Heb. xii. 2; and he tells his disciples, John xiv. 13, 14, that whatever they shall ask in his name, he will do it. He is made a Prince and a Saviour, "having all judgment committed unto him," John v. 22; and "he is Lord of all," Acts x. 36. Rom. xiv. 9. 6. Hereupon the sinner, being convinced of his lost condition through sin and misery, of an utter impossibility of helping himself out of that state of death, of Christ's all-sufficiency and willingness to save all that will come to him, and of its own inability to believe or come to him for life and salvation, or to lay hold on, and lean to his merits and satisfaction, and so despairing in himself, is to look out to Jesus, the author of eternal salvation, the foundation and chief corner-stone, the author and finisher of faith; I say, the sinner, being thus convinced, is thus to look out to Jesus; not that that conviction is any proper qualification prerequisite as necessary, either to prepare, dispose, and fit for faith, or far less to merit any manner of way, or bring on faith; but because this is Christ's method to bring a soul to faith by this conviction, to the glory of his grace. The soul naturally being averse from Christ, and utterly unwilling to accept of that way of salvation, must be redacted to that strait, that it shall see, that it must either accept of this offer or die. As the whole needeth not a physician, so Christ is come to save only that which is lost; and his method is to convince the world of sin, in the first place; and then of righteousness, John xvi. 8, 9. 7. This looking out to Jesus for faith, comprehendeth those things: (1.) The soul's acknowledgment of the necessity of faith, to the end it may partake of Christ, and of his merits. (2.) The soul's satisfaction with that way of partaking of Christ, by a closing with him, and a resting upon him by faith. (3.) A sense and conviction of the unbelief and stubbornness of the heart, or a seeing of its own impotency, yea, and unwillingness to believe. (4.) A persuasion that Christ can over-master the infidelity and wickedness of the heart, and work up the soul unto a willing consent unto the bargain. (5.) A hope, or a half-hope (to speak so) that Christ, who is willing to save all poor sinners that come to him for salvation; and hath said, that he will put none away in any case that cometh--will have pity upon him at length. (6.) A resolution to lie at his door, till he come with life, till he quicken, till he unite the soul to himself. (7.) A lying open to the breathings of his Spirit, by guarding against every thing (so far as they can) that may grieve or provoke him, and waiting on him in all the ordinances, he hath appointed, for begetting faith; such as reading the Scriptures, hearing the word, conference with godly persons, and prayer, &c. (8.) A waiting with patience on him who never said to the house of Jacob, "seek me in vain," Isa. xlv. 19; still crying and looking to him who hath commanded the ends of the earth to look to him; and waiting for him who waiteth to be gracious, Isa. xxx. 18, remembering that they are all blessed that wait for him; and that "there is much good prepared for them that wait for him," Isa. lxiv. 4. 8. The sinner would essay this believing, and closing with Christ, and set about it, as he can, seriously, heartily, and willingly, yea, and resolutely over the belly of much opposition, and many discouragements, looking to him who must help, yea, and work the whole work; for God worketh in and with man as a rational creature. The soul then would set the willingness it findeth, on work, and wait for more; and as the Lord is pleased to commend, by his Spirit, the way of grace more unto the soul, and to warm the heart with love to it, and a desire after it, strike the iron while it is hot; and, looking to him for help, grip to Christ in the covenant; and so set to its seal, though with a trembling hand; and subscribe its name, though with much fear and doubting, remembering "that he who worketh to will, must work the deed also," Phil. ii. 13, "and he that beginneth a good work will perfect it," Phil. i. 6. 9. The soul essaying thus to believe in Christ's strength, and to creep when it cannot walk or run, would hold fast what it hath attained, and resolve never to recall any consent, or half-consent, it hath given to the bargain, but still look forward, hold on, wrestle against unbelief and unwillingness, entertain every good motion of the Spirit for this end, and never admit of any thing that may quench its lodgings, desires, or expectation. 10. Nay, if the sinner be come this length, that, with the bit willingness he hath, he consenteth to the bargain, and is not satisfied with any thing in himself, that draweth back, or consenteth not, and with the little skill or strength he hath is writing down his name, and saying, even so I take him; and is holding at this, peremptorily resolving never to go back, or unsay what he hath said; but, on the contrary, is firmly purposed to adhere, and as he groweth in strength, to grip more firmly, and adhere to him, he may conclude that the bargain is closed already, and that he hath faith already; for here there is an accepting of Christ on his own terms, a real consenting unto the covenant of grace, though weak, and not so discernible as the soul would wish. The soul dare not say but it loveth the bargain, and is satisfied with it, and longeth for it, and desireth nothing more than that it might partake thereof, and enjoy him whom it loveth, hungereth for, panteth after, or breatheth, as it is able, that it may live in him, and be saved through him. But some will say, If I had any evidence of God's approbation of this act of my soul, any testimony of his Spirit, I could then with confidence say, that I had believed and accepted of the covenant and of Christ offered therein; but so long as I perceive nothing of this, how can I suppose, that any motion of this kind in my soul is real faith? For _Answer_--1. We would know, that our believing, and God's sealing to our sense, are two distinct acts and separable, and oft separated. Our believing is one thing, and God's sealing with the Holy Spirit of promise to our sense, is another thing; and this followeth, though not inseparably, the other, Eph. i. 13, "In whom also, after that ye believed, ye were sealed with that Holy Spirit of promise." And so, 2. We would know, that many a man may believe, and yet not know that he doth believe. He may set to his seal, that God is true in his offer of life through Jesus, and accept of that offer as a truth, and close with it; and yet live under darkness and doubtings of his faith, long and many a day; partly through not discerning the true nature of faith; partly through the great sense and feeling of his own corruption and unbelief; partly through a mistake of the Spirit's operations within, or the want of a clear and distinct uptaking of the motions of his own soul; partly because he findeth so much doubting and fear, as if there could be no faith where there was doubting or fear, contrary to Mark ix. 24. Matth. viii. 26, and xiv. 31.; partly, because he hath not that persuasion that others have had, as if there were not various degrees of faith, as there is of other graces, and the like. Therefore, 3. We would know, that many may really believe, and yet miss this sensible sealing of the Spirit which they would be at. God may think it not yet seasonable to grant them that, lest they forget themselves and become too proud; and to train them up more to the life of faith, whereby he may be glorified; and for other holy ends, he may suspend the giving of this for a time. 4. Yet we would know, that all that believe, have the seal within them, 1 John v. 10, "He that believeth on the Son of God, hath the witness in himself," that is, he hath that which really is a seal, though he see it not, nor perceive it not; even the work of God's Spirit in his soul, inclining and determining him unto the accepting of this bargain, and to a liking of and endeavouring after holiness; and the whole gospel clearing up what faith is, is a seal and confirmation of the business. So that the matter is sealed, and confirmed by the word, though the soul want those sensible breathings of the Spirit, shedding abroad his love in the heart, and filling the soul with a full assurance, by hushing all doubts and fears to the door; yea, though they should be a stranger unto the Spirit's witnessing thus with their spirits, that they are the children of God, and clearing up distinctly the real work of grace within their soul, and so saying in effect, that they have in truth believed. But enough of this; seeing all this, and much more is abundantly held forth and explained, in that excellent and useful treatise of Mr. Guthrie's, entitled, "The Christian's Great Interest." CHAPTER V. HOW CHRIST IS TO BE MADE USE OF, AS THE WAY, FOR SANCTIFICATION IN GENERAL. Having shown how a poor soul, lying under the burden of sin and wrath, is to make use of Jesus Christ for righteousness and justification, and so to make use of him, go out to him, and apply him, as "he is made of God to us righteousness," 1 Cor. i. 30, and that but briefly. This whole great business being more fully and satisfactorily handled, in that forementioned great, though small treatise, viz. "The Christian's Great Interest," we shall now come and show, how a believer or a justified soul shall further make use of Christ for sanctification, this being a particular about which they are oftentimes much exercised and perplexed. That we may therefore, in some weak measure, through the help of this light and grace, propose some things to clear up this great and necessary truth, we shall first speak a little to it in the general, and then come to clear up the matter more particularly. Before we speak of the matter in general, it would be remembered, 1. That the person who only is in case to make use of Christ for sanctification, is one that hath made use of him already for righteousness and justification. For one who is a stranger to Christ, and is living in nature, hath no access to Christ for sanctification. He must be a believer, and within the covenant, ere he can make use of the grounds of sanctification laid down in the covenant. One must first be united to Christ, and justified by faith in him, before he can draw any virtue from him for perfecting holiness. He must first be in him, before he can grow up in him, or bring forth fruit in him. And therefore the first thing that souls would go about, should be to get an union made up with Christ, and be clothed with his righteousness by faith; and then they have a right to all his benefits. _First_, they should labour to get their state changed from enmity to peace and reconciliation with God, through faith in Jesus. Yet, _next_, it would be observed, that when it is said, that one must be a believer before he can go to Christ, and make use of him for holiness and sanctification, it is not so understood and said, that one must know, that indeed he is justified by faith, before he can make any use of Christ for sanctification. One may be justified, and a believer, yea, and growing in grace through Jesus Christ, and so actually improving the grounds of sanctification, and making use of Christ for this end, and allowed thereunto, and yet win to no certainty of his union with Christ, of his justification through faith in him, nor of his faith. But, _thirdly_, if it be said, How can a soul with confidence approach to Christ, for use-making of him, in reference to sanctification, that is, still doubting of his state and regeneration? I answer, It is true, a clear sight of our interest in Christ by faith, would be a great encouragement to our confident approaching to, and use-making of him, in all things; and this consideration should move all to a more earnest search and study of the marks and evidences of their interest; a good help whereunto they will find in the forementioned book. I shall only say this here, That if the soul have an earnest desire to be sanctified wholly, and to have on the image of God, that he may glorify him, and panteth after holiness as for life, that he may look like him that is holy, and maketh this his work and study; sorrowing at nothing more than at his shortcoming; crying out and longing for the day when he shall be delivered from a body of death, and have the old man wholly crucified; he needeth not question his interest in Christ, and warrant to make use of him for every part of sanctification; for this longing desire after conformity to God's law, and panting after this spiritual life, to the end God may be exalted, Christ glorified, and others edified, will not be readily found in one that is yet in nature. It is true, I grant, some who design to establish their own righteousness, and to be justified by their own works and inherent holiness, may wish that they may be more holy and less guilty; and for some other corrupt ends, they may desire to be free of the power of some lust, which they find noxious and troublesome; and yet retain with love and desire, some other beloved lusts, and so have a heart still cleaving to the heart of some detestable thing or other. But gracious souls, as they have respect to all the commands of God, so they have not that design of being justified before God by their works; nor do they study mortification, and sanctification for any such end; nay, they no sooner discover any bias of their false deceitful hearts unto any such end, but as soon they disown it, and abhor it. So that hence believers may get some discovery of the reality of their faith and interest in Christ, and of their warrant, yea, and duty to make use of Christ for sanctification. This premised, we come to speak something, in the general, of believer's use-making of Christ, as made of God to us sanctification. And for this end, we shall only speak a little to two things. _First_, We shall show upon what account it is that Christ is called our sanctification, or, "made of God to us sanctification," as the apostle's phrase is, 1 Cor. i. 30; or, what Christ hath done as Mediator, to begin, and carry on to perfection the work of sanctification in the soul. And, _secondly,_ How the soul is to demean itself in this matter, or how the soul is to make use of, and improve what Christ hath done, for this end, that it may grow in grace, and perfect holiness in the fear of God. As to the _first,_ we would know, that though the work of sanctification be formally ours, yet it is wrought by another hand, as the principal efficient cause, even by the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. The Father is said to purge the branches, that they may bring forth more fruit, John xv. 1. Hence we are said to be sanctified by God the Father, Jude 1. The Son is also called the Sanctifier, Heb. ii. 21. He sanctifieth and cleanseth the Church with the washing of water by the word, Eph. v. 26. The Spirit is also said to sanctify, 2 Thes. ii. 13. 1 Pet. i. 2. Rom. xv. 16. Hence we are said to be washed and sanctified by the Spirit of God, 1 Cor. vi. 11. But more particularly, we are said to be sanctified in Christ, 1 Cor. i. 2; and "he is made of God to us sanctification," 1 Cor. i. 30. Let us then see in what sense this may be true. And, 1. He hath by his death and blood procured that this work of sanctification shall be wrought and carried on. For "he suffered without the gate, that he might sanctify the people with his own blood," Heb. xiii. 12. "We are saved by the washing of regeneration, and renewing of the Holy Ghost, which he shed on us abundantly, through Jesus Christ our Saviour," Titus iii. 5, 6. "He gave himself for us, that he might redeem us from all iniquity, and purify unto himself a peculiar people, zealous of good works," Tit. ii. 14. Thus our sanctification is the fruit of his death, and purchased by his blood. "He gave himself for his church, that he might sanctify it," Eph. v. 25, 26. 2. He dying as a cautioner and public person, believers are accounted in law to be dead to sin in him. Hence the apostle tells us, Rom. vi. 3-6, that as many of us as are baptised into Jesus Christ, were baptized into his death; and that therefore we are buried with him by baptism into death; and are planted together in the likeness of his death; yea, and that our old man is crucified with him, that the body of sin might be destroyed, that henceforth we should not serve sin. Whence believers are warranted and commanded, verse 11, to reckon themselves "to be dead indeed unto sin;" and therefore sin should "not reign in their mortal bodies to fulfil the lusts thereof," verse 12. This is a sure ground of hope and comfort for believers, that Christ died thus as a public person; and that by virtue thereof, being now united to Christ by faith, they are dead to sin by law; and sin cannot challenge a dominion over them, as before their conversion it might have done, and did; for the law hath dominion over a man as long as he liveth, but no longer. Wherefore believing brethren "becoming dead to the law by the body of Christ, are married to another, even to him who is raised from the dead, that they should bring forth fruit unto God," Rom. vii. 1-4. 3. Hence it followeth, that our "old man is crucified with Christ, that the body of sin might be destroyed," Rom. vi. 6. So that this old tyrant that oppresseth the people of God, hath got his death wounds, in the crucifixion of Christ, and shall never recover his former vigour and activity, to oppress and bear down the people of God, as he did. He is now virtually, through the death of Jesus, killed and crucified, being in Christ nailed to the cross. 4. His resurrection is a pawn and pledge of this sanctification. For as he died as a public person, so he rose again as a public person. "We are buried with him by baptism, that like as Christ was raised up from the dead, by the glory of the Father, even so we also should walk in newness of life," Rom. vi. 4; and believers are said to be "planted together with him, in the likeness of his resurrection," verse 5; "and they shall live with him," verse 8; "and therefore they are to reckon themselves alive unto God, through Jesus Christ our Lord," verse 11. "We are raised up together," Eph. ii. 6. 5. This sanctification is an article of the covenant of redemption betwixt the Father and the Son, Isa. lii. 15, "So shall he sprinkle many nations." Chap. liii. 10, "He shall see his seed, and the pleasure of the Lord shall prosper in his hand." Christ, then, having this promised to him, must see to the accomplishment thereof, and will have it granted to him; seeing he hath fulfilled all that was engaged to by him--having made his soul an offering for sin. 6. This sanctification is promised in the covenant of grace, Jer. xxxiii. 8. "And I will cleanse them from all their iniquity." Ezek. xxxvii. 23, "And I will cleanse them." So chap. xxxvi. 25, "Then will I sprinkle clean water upon you, and ye shall be clean; from all your filthiness, and from all your idols will I cleanse you." Now all the promises of the covenant of grace are confirmed to us in the Mediator. For, "in him all the promises of the covenant are yea and amen," 2 Cor. i. 20. 7. He hath purchased and made sure to his own, the new nature, and the heart of flesh, which is also promised, Ezek. xxxvi. 26, and xi. 19. Jer. xxxii. 39. This is the new and lively principle of grace, the spring of sanctification, which cannot be idle in the soul; but must be emitting vital acts natively. Yea, through him, are believers made partakers of the divine nature, which is a growing thing,--young glory in the soul, 2 Pet. i. 3,4, "According as his divine power hath given unto us all things that pertain unto life and godliness, through the knowledge of him that hath called us to glory and virtue, whereby are given unto us exceeding great and precious promises, that by these we might be made partakers of the divine nature," &c. 8. The Spirit is promised, to cause us walk in his statutes, Ezek. xlvi. 27. Now all these promises are made good to us in Christ, who is the cautioner of the covenant; yea, he hath gotten now the dispensing and giving out of the rich promises of the covenant, committed unto him; so as he is the great and glorious custodier of all purchased blessings. 9. There are new waterings, breathings, and gales of the Spirit, given in Christ, Isa. xxvii. 3. He must water his garden or vineyard every moment. This is the north wind and the south wind that bloweth upon the garden, Cant. iv. 16. He must be as the dew unto Israel, Hos. xiv. 5. 10. Through Christ is the believer brought into such a covenant state, as giveth great ground of hope of certain victory. He is not now under the law, but under grace; and hence inferreth the apostle, Rom. vi. 14, "That sin shall not have dominion over them." Being now under that dispensation of grace, whereby all their stock is in the Mediator's hand, and at his disposal; and not in their own hand and power, as under the covenant of works, there is a sure ground laid down for constant supply and furniture in all necessities. 11. Christ hath prayed for this, John xvii. 17, "Sanctify them through thy truth;" where the Lord is praying, that his disciples might be more and more sanctified, and so fitted and qualified for the work of the ministry they were to be employed in. And what he prayed for them, was not for them alone, but also for the elect, proportionably, who are opposed to the world, for which he did not pray, verse 9. 12. He standeth to believers in relation of a vine, or a root, in which they grow as branches, so that by abiding in him, living by faith in him, and drawing sap from him, they bring forth fruit in him, John xv. 1, 2, 4, 5. Their stock of grace is in him, the root; and he communicateth sap and life unto his branches, whereby they grow, flourish, and bring forth fruit to the glory of God. 13. Christ hath taken on him the office of a prophet and teacher, to instruct us in the way wherein we ought to go; for he is that great prophet whom the Lord promised to raise up, and who was to be heard and obeyed in all things, Deut. xviii. 15. Acts iii. 22, and vii. 37. "He is given for a witness, and a leader," Isa. lv. 4; and we are commanded to hear him, Matt, xvii. 5. Mark x. 7. 14. He hath also taken on him the office of a king, Psal. ii. 6. Matt, xxviii. 5. Isa. ix. 7. Phil. ii. 8-11. and thereby standeth engaged to subdue all their spiritual enemies, Satan and corruption, Psal. cx. He is given for a leader and commander, Isa. lv. 5, and so can cause his people walk in his ways. 15. When we defile ourselves with new transgressions and failings, he hath provided a fountain for us to wash in; "a fountain opened to the house of David, and to the inhabitants of Jerusalem, for sin and for uncleanness," Zech. xiii. 1; and this fountain is his blood, which cleanseth from all sin, Heb. ix. 14. 1 John i. 7. Rev. i. 5. 16. He is set before us as a copy and pattern, that we "should walk even as he walked," 1 John ii. 6. "He left us an example that we should follow his steps," 1 Pet. ii. 21. But we should beware to separate this consideration from the preceding, as antichristian Socinians do, who will have Christ only to be a copy. 17. He hath overcome Satan, our arch enemy, and hath destroyed his works, 1 John iii. 8. He came to destroy the works of the devil; and in particular, his works of wickedness in the soul. Thus he is a conqueror and the captain of our salvation. 18. As he hath purchased, so hath he appointed ordinances, for the laying of the foundation, and carrying on this work of sanctification; both word and sacraments are appointed for that; the word to convert and to confirm, John xvii. 17. "Sanctify them through thy truth, thy word is truth," said Christ. The word is given as the rule; and also through the means thereof is life and strength conveyed to the soul, "to perfect holiness in the fear of God," 1 Pet. ii. 2. And the sacraments are given to strengthen and confirm the soul in the ways of God. 19. As he hath laid down strong encouragements to his followers, to hold on in the way of holiness, many great and precious promises, by which they may be made partakers of the divine nature, 2 Pet. i. 4; and by which they are encouraged to cleanse themselves from all filthiness of the flesh and spirit, 2 Cor. vii. 1; and many motives to hold on and continue; so hath he rolled difficulties out of the way, whether they be within us, or without us, and thereby made the way easy and pleasant to such as walk in it; so as they may now run the way of his commandments, and walk and not weary, and run and not be faint. Nay, 20. We would remember for our encouragement and confidence, that in carrying on of this work lieth the satisfaction of the soul, and the pleasure of the Lord that must prosper in his hand, and thus he seeth his seed, and hath of the travail of his soul, and is satisfied. These particulars, rightly considered, will discover unto us, what a noble ground for sanctification is in Christ laid down for believers, which they may, and must by faith grip to, that they may grow in grace, and grow up in Christ, and perfect holiness; and what a wonderful contrivance of grace this is, wherein all things are made so sure for believers, Christ becoming all things to them, and paving a royal and sure way for them; sure for them, and glorious to himself! As to the second particular, that is, how believers are to carry in this matter, or how they are to make use of Christ, and of those grounds of sanctification in Christ, which we have mentioned: _First,_ There are some things which they should beware of, and guard against; as, 1. They should beware of an heartless despondency, and giving way to discouragement, and hearkening to the language of unbelief, or to the suggestion of Satan, whereby he will labour to persuade them of the impossibility of getting the work of sanctification throughed, or any progress made therein to purpose. Satan and a deceitful heart can soon muster up many difficulties, and allege that there are many lions, many insuperable difficulties in the way, to discourage them from venturing forward; and if Satan prevail here, he hath gained a great point. Therefore the believer should keep up his head in hope, and beware of multiplying discouragements to himself, or of concluding the matter impossible; for then shall he neither have heart nor hand for the work, but sit down and wring his hands as overcome with discouragement and despondency of spirit. 2. They should beware of wilfully rejecting their own mercies, and forbearing to make use of the grounds of hope, of strength and progress in the matter of sanctification, which Christ hath allowed them to make use of. There is such an evil among God's children, that they scar at that which Christ out of great love hath provided for them, and dare not with confidence make use of, nor apply to themselves the great and comfortable promises, to the end they might be encouraged; they will not take their allowance, as thinking themselves unworthy; and that it would be presumption in them to challenge a right to such great things; and they think it commendable humility in them, to stand a-back, and so wilfully refuse the advantages and helps, that make so much for their growth in grace. 3. They should beware of a careless neglect of the means appointed for advancing in holiness; for, though the means do not work the effect, yet it is by the means that God hath chosen to work the work of sanctification. Here that is to be seen, "that the hand of the diligent maketh rich; and the field of the slothful is soon grown over with thorns and nettles; so that poverty cometh as one that travaileth, and want as an armed man," Prov. xxiv. 30. It is a sinful tempting of God, to think to be sanctified another way than God hath in his deep wisdom condescended upon. 4. Yet they should beware of laying too much weight on the means and ordinances, as if they could effectuate the business. Though the Lord hath thought fit to work in and by the means, yet he himself must do the work. Means are but means, and not the principal cause; nor can they work, but as the principal agent is pleased to make use of them, and to work by them. When we lean to the means and to instruments, we prejudge ourselves, by disobliging of God, and provoking him to leave us, that we may wrestle with the ordinances alone, and find no advantage. Therefore the soul should guard against this. 5. Albeit the means can do nothing unless he breathe, yet we should beware not only of neglecting, as we said before, but also of a slighting way of performing them, without that earnestness and diligence that is required,--"cursed is he who doth the work of the Lord negligently," Jer. xlviii. 10. Here then is the special art of Christianity apparent, to be as diligent, earnest and serious in the use of the means, as if they could effectuate the matter we were seeking; and yet to be as much abstracted from them, in our hopes and expectation, and to be as much leaning on the Lord alone, and depending on him for the blessing, as if we were using no means at all. 6. They should beware of slighting and neglecting the motions of the Spirit; for thereby they may lose the best opportunity. They should be always on the wing, ready to embrace the least motion; and they should stand always ready, waiting for the breathings of his Spirit, and open at his call; lest afterward, they be put to call and seek, and not attain what they would be at, as we see in the spouse, Cant. v. 2, 3, 4, &c. 7. They should also guard against the quenching of the Spirit, 1 Thess. v. 12; or grieving of the Spirit, Eph. iv. 30, by their unchristian and unsuitable carriage; for this will much mar their sanctification. It is by the Spirit that the work of sanctification is carried on in the soul; and when this Spirit is disturbed, and put from his work, how can the work go on? When the motions of this indwelling Spirit are extinguished, his work is marred and retarded; and when he is grieved, he is hindered in his work. Therefore souls must guard against unbelief, despondency, unsuitable and unchristian carriage. 8. Especially they should beware of wasting sins, Psal. li. 10. Sins against light and conscience, such as David called presumptuous sins, Psal. xix. 13. They should beware also of savouring any unknown corruption, or any thing of that kind, that may hinder the work of sanctification. _Secondly_, It were useful, and of great advantage for such as would grow in grace, and advance in the way of holiness, to be living in the constant conviction, 1. Of the necessity of holiness, "without which no man shall see God," Heb. xii. 14. "Nothing entering into the New Jerusalem that defileth," Rev. xxi. 7. 2. Of their own inability to do any one act right; how they are not sufficient of themselves to think any thing as of themselves, 2 Cor. iii. 5; and that without Christ they can do nothing, John xv. 5. 3. Of the insufficiency of any human help, or means, or way which they might think good to choose, to mortify aright one corruption, or to give strength for the discharge of any one duty; for our sufficiency is of God, 2 Cor. iii. and it is "through the Spirit that we must mortify the deeds of the body," Rom. viii. 13. 4. And of the treachery and deceitfulness of the heart, which is bent to follow by-ways, being not only "deceitful above all things, but also desperately wicked," Jer. xvii. 9. That by this means, the soul may be jealous of itself, and despair of doing any thing in its own strength, and so be fortified against that main evil, which is an enemy to all true sanctification, viz. confidence in the flesh. _Thirdly_, The soul will keep its eye fixed on those things: 1. On Christ's all-sufficiency to help; in all cases that "he is able to save to the uttermost," Heb. vii. 25. 2. On his compassionateness to such as are out of the way; and readiness to help poor sinners with his grace and strength; and this will keep up the soul from fainting and despairing. 3. On the commands of holiness; such as those, "cleanse your hand, and purify your hearts," James iv. 8, and, "be ye holy, for I am holy," 1 Pet. i. 15, 16, and the like; that the authority of God and conscience to command may set the soul a-work. 4. On the great recompense of reward that is appointed for such as wrestle on, and endure to the end; and on the great promises of great things to such as are sanctified, whereof the scriptures are full; that the soul may be encouraged to run through difficulties, to ride out storms, to endure hardness, as a good soldier, and to persevere in duty. 5. On the other hand, on the many sad threatenings and denunciations of wrath, against such as transgress his laws, and on all the sad things that such as shake off the fear of God and the study of holiness have to look for, of which the scripture is full; that by this means the soul may be kept in awe, and spurred forward unto duty, and made the more willing to shake off laziness. 6. On the rule, the word of God, by which alone we must regulate all our actions; and this ought to be our meditation day and night, and all our study, as we see it was David's, and other holy men of God, their daily work, see Psal. i. and cxix. _Fourthly_, In all this study of holiness, and aiming at an higher measure of grace, the believer would level at a right end, and so would not design holiness for this end, that he might be justified thereby, or that he might thereby procure and purchase to himself heaven and God's favour; for the weight of all that must lie on Jesus Christ, who is our righteousness; and our holiness must not dethrone him, nor rob him of his glory, which he will not give to another; but would study holiness, to the end he might glorify God, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, and please him who calleth to holiness, and thereby be "meet to be partakers of the inheritance of the saints in light," Col. i. 10, 12; and be made a meet bride for such a holy bridegroom, and a member to such an holy head; that hereby others might be edified, Matt. v. 16. 1 Pet. ii. 12, and iii. 1, 2; that the soul may look like a temple of the Holy Ghost, and like a servant of Christ's bought with a price, 1 Cor. vi. 17-20; and have a clear evidence of his regeneration and justification, and also that he may express his thankfulness to God for all his favours and benefits. _Fifthly_, The soul should by faith lay hold on, and grip fast to the ground of sanctification; that is to say, (1.) To what Christ hath purchased for his people. (2.) To what as a public person he hath done for them; and so by faith, 1. Challenge a right to, and lay hold on the promises of grace, strength, victory, and thorough bearing, in their combating with corruption within, and Satan and a wicked world without. 2. "Reckon themselves dead unto sin, through the death of Christ; and alive unto God through his resurrection," Rom. vi. 4, 11. "And that the old man is crucified with him, that the body of sin might be destroyed," verse 6. "And that they are now not under the law, but under grace," verse 14. That by this means they may be encouraged to continue fighting against a vanquished enemy, and not give over, notwithstanding of disappointments, discouragements, prevailings of corruption, &c. and the believer may know upon what ground he standeth, and what is the ground of his hope and expectation of victory in the end; and so he "may run, not as uncertainly; and so fight, not as one that beateth the air," 1 Cor. ix. 26. _Sixthly_, In this work of sanctification, the believer should be much in the lively exercise of faith; fight by faith; advance by faith, grow up, and bring forth fruit by faith; and so, 1. The believer would be oft renewing his grips of Christ, holding him fast by faith; and so abiding in him, that he may bring forth fruit, John xv. 4,5. 2. Not only would he be keeping his union fast with Christ, but he would also be eyeing Christ by faith, as his store-house, and general Lord dispensator of all the purchased blessings of the covenant, which he standeth in need of, and looking on Christ, as standing engaged by office to complete his work of salvation, and to present him with the rest to himself holy, without blemish, yea, and without spot and wrinkle, or any such thing, Eph. v. 27. 3. He would by faith grip to the promises, both of the general stock of grace, the new heart, and heart of flesh, and the spirit to cause us walk in his statutes, Ezek. xxxvi. 26,27; and of the several particular acts of grace that be standeth in need of, such as that, Jer. xxx. 8, "I will cleanse them from all their iniquities," &c. So Ezek. xxxvi. 25. Jer. xxxi. 19. As the church doth, Micah vii. 9. "He will subdue our iniquities," &c. And so having, or gripping these promises, we are to cleanse ourselves from all filthiness of flesh and spirit, "and perfect holiness in the fear of God," 2 Cor. vii. 1. 4. As the believer would by faith draw out of Christ, through the conduit of the promises, which are all "yea and amen in him," 2 Cor. i. 20. grace, strength, knowledge, courage, or whatever his fight in this warfare calleth for, to the end he may be strong in "the Lord, and in the power of his might," Eph. vi. 10; so he would by faith roll the weight of the whole work upon Christ; and thus cast himself, and his care and burden on him who careth for him, 1 Pet. v. 7. Psal. xxxvii. 5, and lv. 22; and so go on in duty, without anxiety, knowing who beareth the weight of all, and who hath undertaken to work both to will and to do, according to his good pleasure. Thus should the work be easy and safe, when by faith we roll the burden on him, who is the chosen one fitted for that work, and leave it on him, who is our strength, patiently waiting for the outgate, in hope. Thus the believer makes use of Christ, as made of God sanctification, when in the use of means appointed, eyeing the covenant of grace, and the promises thereof, and what Christ hath done to sanctify and cleanse his people, he rolleth the matter on him, and expecteth help, salvation, and victory through him. CAUTIONS. But lest some should be discouraged, and think all this in vain, because they perceive no progress nor growth in grace for all this, but rather corruption as strong and troublesome as ever, I would say a few things to them. 1. Let them search and try, whether their shortcoming and disappointment doth not much proceed from this, that the matter is not so cleanly cast over on Christ as it should be; is it not too oft found, that they go forth to the battle in their own strength, lippening to their own stock of grace, to their own knowledge, or to their duties, or the like? How then can they prosper? 2. Let them mourn as they get any discovery of this, and guard against that corrupt bias of the heart, which is still inclining them to an engagement without the Captain of their salvation, and a fighting without the armour of God. 3. Let them try and see, if, in studying holiness, they be not led by corrupt ends; and do not more labour after sanctification, that they may be more worthy and the better accepted of God, and that they may have quietness and peace as to their acceptance with God, as if this were any cause, matter, or condition of their righteousness and justification before God, than that they may shew their obedience to the command of God, 1 Thes. iv. 3. Eph. ii. 10. John xv. 16; and express their thankfulness to him, and glorify God, Mal. i. 6. Matt. iii. 16. John xvii. 10. Eph. iv. 30; and if so, they ought to acknowledge God's goodness in that disappointment, seeing thereby they see more and more a necessity of laying aside their own righteousness, and of betaking themselves to the righteousness of Christ, and of resting on that alone for peace and acceptance with God. 4. They should try and see, if their negligence and carelessness in watching, and in the discharge of duties, do not occasion their disappointments and shortcoming. God sometimes thinks fit to suffer a lion of corruption to set on them, that they may look about them, and stand more vigilantly upon their watch-tower, knowing that they have to do with a vigilant adversary, the devil, who, as a roaring lion, goeth about seeking whom he may devour, I Pet. v. 8. and that "they fight not against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world; against spiritual wickedness in high places," Eph. vi. 12. It is not for nought that we are so often commanded to watch, Matt. xxiv. 42, and xxv. 13, and xxvi. 41, and xiv. 38. Luke xxi. 36. Mark xiii. 33-37. 1 Cor. xvi. 13. 1 Thes. v. 6. 1 Pet. iv. 7. Col. iv. 2. Through the want of this, we know what befel David and Peter. 5. They should try and see, whether there be not too much self-confidence, which occasioned Peter's foul fall. God may, in justice and mercy, suffer corruption to break loose upon such, at a time, and tread them under foot, to learn them afterward to carry more soberly; and to "work their salvation with fear and trembling," Phil. ii. 12, remembering what a jealous, holy God he is, with whom they have to do; what an adversary they have against them; and how weak their own strength is. 6. This should be remembered, that one may be growing in grace, and advancing in holiness, when, to his apprehension, he is not going forward from strength to strength, but rather going backward. It is one thing to have grace, and another thing to see that we have grace; so it is one thing to be growing in grace, and another thing to see that we are growing in grace. Many may question their growth in grace, when their very questioning of it may evince the contrary. For they may conclude no growth, but rather a back-going, because they perceive more and more violent, and strong corruptions, and hidden works of darkness and wickedness, within their soul, than ever they did before; while as that great discovery sheweth the increase of their spiritual knowledge, and an increase in this is an increase in grace; so they may question and doubt of their growth, upon mistakes, as thinking corruption always strongest when it makes the greatest stir and noise; or their complaints may flow from a vehement desire they have to have much more sanctification, which may cause them overlook many degrees they have advanced. Or some such thing may occasion their darkness and complaints; yea, God may think it fittest for them, to the end they may be kept humble and diligent, to be in the dark as to their progress; whereas if they saw what advancement and progress they had made in Christianity, they might grow wanton, secure, and careless, and so occasion some sad dispensation to humble them again. 7. It should be remembered, that perfect victory is not to be had here. It is true, in respect of justification through the imputation of the perfect righteousness of Christ, and in respect of their sincerity and gospel simplicity, and in respect also of the parts of the new man, believers are said to be perfect; such an one was Noah, Gen. vi. 9, and Job, chap. i. 1, 8. See also Psalm xxxvii. 37, and lxiv. 4. 1 Cor. ii. 6. Heb. v. 14. James iii. 2. And it is true, we are to aim at perfection, and to pray for it, as Matt. v. 48. 2 Cor. xiii. 11. Col. iv. 12. Heb. xiii. 21. James i. 4. 1 Pet. v. 10. Heb. vi. 1. Yet as to the degrees of holiness and sanctification, and in respect of the remnant of corruption within, there is no full perfection here, Jer. ix. 20, 21. Phil. iii. 12. For even he who is washed, and, as to justification, is clean every whit, yet needeth to wash his feet, because contracting filth in his conversation, Job xiii. 10. So that if the Lord should mark iniquity, no man should stand, Psalm cxxx. 3, and cxliii. 2. There will still be in the best something, more or less, of that battle, that Paul speaketh of, Rom. vii. 15-23. So that they will still have occasion to cry out with him, verse 24, "O wretched man that I am, who shall deliver me from the body of this death!" And the flesh will still lust against the spirit, and the spirit against the flesh, so that they shall not be able to do what they would, Gal. v. 17. The place of perfection is above, where all tears are wiped away, and the weary wrestler is at rest. 8. Let them not mistake and think, that every stirring of corruption in the soul, argueth its dominion and prevailing power. Corruption may stir and make a great deal ado, where it cannot get leave to reign; and be as a violent and cruel invader, seeking the throne, putting the whole kingdom in a combustion, who is resisted with force of arms. Corruption may be more quiet and still, when indeed it hath the throne of the soul; as a conqueror may be more quiet and still, when he hath overcome and is in peaceable possession of the kingdom, than when he was but fighting for it. When the strong man keeps the house, and is master, then all is quiet and at rest, till a stronger come and thrust him out, and dispossess him. 9. Sanctification doth not always consist in a man's freedom from some corruptions. For there may be some corruptions that one hath no natural inclination to, but, on the contrary, a great aversion for; as some world's wretches may have no inclination to prodigality and ranting, or such like vices, which are contrary to their humour, or to their constant education; and Satan may never tempt some man to such evils, knowing he will get more advantage by plying his temper and genius, and so carrying him away to the other contrary evil; and so, though this man know not so much, as what it is once to be tempted to those vices, yet that will not say, that he is a sanctified man; far less will it say, that he hath more grace than another man, whose predominant that evil is, and against which he is daily fighting and wrestling. Whence it appeareth that wrestling and protesting against even an overcoming corruption, may evidence more of grace, than freedom from some evils, to which some are not so much tempted, and to which they are naturally less inclined. 10. Nor should they think, that corruption is always master of the soul, and possessing the throne as a full conqueror, when it prevaileth and carrieth the soul headlong at a time, for corruption may sometimes come in upon the soul as an inundation with irresistible violence, and, for a time, carry all before it, so that the soul cannot make any sensible resistance; as when a sudden, violent, and unexpected temptation setteth on, so as the poor man is overwhelmed, and scarce knoweth where he is, or what he is doing, till he be laid on his back. At that time it will be a great matter, if the soul dare quietly enter a protest against and dissent from what is done, and if there be an honest protestation against the violent and tyrannical invasion of corruption, we cannot say, that corruption is in peaceable possession of the throne. If the spirit be lusting against the flesh, levying all the forces he can against the invader, by prayer and supplication to God, and calling in all the supply of divine help he can get, and, when he can do no more, is fighting and groaning under that unjust invasion, resolving never to pay homage to the usurper, nor to obey his laws, nor so much as parley with him, or make peace, we cannot say, that the soul doth consent fully unto this usurpation. Nay, if the soul shall do this much, at such a time when Satan sets on with all his force, it will be a greater evidence of the strength of grace in the soul, than if the soul should do the same or a little more, at a time when the temptation is not so strong. 11. It is not good for them to say, that grace is not growing in them, because they advance not so far as some do; and because they come not to the pitch of grace that they see some advanced to. That is not a sure rule to measure their growth in grace by. Some may have a better natural temper, whereby they are less inclined to several vices which these find a strong propension to; they may have the advantage of a better education, and the like; so that they should rather try themselves this year by what they were the last year, and that in reference to the lusts to which they have been most subject all their days. 12. We must not think that every believer will attain to the same measure of grace. There is a measure appointed for every member or joint of this body; and every joint supplieth, according to the effectual working in the measure of every part, Eph. iv. 16. God hath more ado with some than with others; there is more strength required in an arm or leg than in a finger or toe; and every one should be content with his measure, so far as not to fret or repine against God and his dispensations, that makes them but a finger, and not an arm of the body; and do their duty in their station, fighting against sin, according to the measure or grace dispensed to them of the Lord, and that faithfully and constantly; and not quarrel with God, that he maketh us not as free of temptations and corruptions as some others. For the captain must not he blamed for commanding some of his soldiers to this post where they never once see the enemy, and others to that post where they must continually fight. The soldier is here under command, and therefore must be quiet, and take his lot; so must the Christian reverence the Lord's dispensations, in ordering matters, so as they shall never have one hour's quietness, while, as others have more rest and peace, and stand at their post fighting, resolving never to yield, but rather to cover the ground with their dead bodies, till the commander-in-chief think good to relieve them. Sure I am, as the only wise God hath distributed to every member of the body, as he hath thought good, so it is the duty of every member to endeavour this holy submission to him, as to the measure of grace, considered as his free gift bestowed on them; and to be humbled for the grudgings of his heart, because God hath not given him more talents. And sure I am, though this submission make no great noise in the world; yet really this is one of the highest degrees of grace attainable here, and such an ornament of a meek and quiet spirit, as is in the sight of God of great price. So that whoever hath attained to this, have the very grace they seem to want, and more. Yet, lest this should be abused, let me add a word or two of caution, to qualify this submission. (1.) There must be with it a high prizing even of that degree of grace which they want. (2) There must be a panting after grace, as it is God's image, and a conformity to him, and with so much singleness, as they may be in case to say, without the reproachings of their heart, they do not so much love holiness for heaven, as heaven for holiness. (3.) There must be an unceasingness in using all means, whereby the growth of grace may be promoved to this end, that they may be conformed to his image, rather than that they may be comforted. (4.) There must be also a deep humiliation for the want of that degree of grace they would have, as it importeth the want of so much conformity to him to whose image they are predestinated to be conformed, which will very well consist with this submission we are speaking of. 13. It would be remembered, that there may be a great progress, even when it is not observed; when, (1.) Hereby the man is made to lie in the dust, to loath himself, and cry, behold I am vile! (2.) Hereby his indignation against the body of death is the more increased. (3.) Hereby his esteem of a Saviour and of the blessed contrivance of salvation is the more heightened, that he seeth he is thereby brought to make mention of his righteousness, even of his only. (4.) Hereby his longing after immediate fruition is increased, where all these complaints shall cease. (5.) And hereby he is put to essay that much slighted duty of holding fast the rejoicing of his hope firm unto the end, looking and longing for the grace that shall be brought unto him at the revelation of Jesus Christ, when he shall be presented without spot, and be made meet to be a partaker of the inheritance of the saints in light. CHAPTER VI. HOW CHRIST IS TO BE MADE USE OF, IN REFERENCE TO THE KILLING AND CRUCIFYING OF THE OLD MAN. Having thus shortly pointed out some things in general, serving to the clearing and opening up the way of our use-making of Christ for sanctification, we come now more particularly to the clearing up of this business. In sanctification we must consider, _first,_ The renewing and changing of our nature and frame; and, _next,_ The washing and purging away of our daily contracted spots. The first of these is commonly divided into two parts, viz. _1st,_ The mortification, killing, and crucifying of the old man of sin and corruption which is within; and, _2d,_ The vivification, renewing, quickening, and strengthening of the new man of grace; and this is a growth in grace, and in fruitfulness and holiness. As to the first of these, viz. The mortification or crucifying of the old man, we would know, that there is such a principle of wickedness and enmity against God in man by nature, now since the fall, whereby the man is inclined to evil, and only to evil. This is called the old man, as being like the body, made of so many parts, joints, and members, that is, so many lusts and corruptions and evil inclinations, which, together, make up a-corpus, and they are fast joined and compacted together, as the members of the body, each useful and serviceable to one another, and all of them concurring and contributing their utmost to the carrying on of the work of sin, and so it is the man of sin; and it is also called the old man, as having first possession of the soul, before it is by grace renewed, and it is a dying more and more daily. Thus it is called the old man, and the body of sin, Rom. vi. 6. This old man hath his members in our members and faculties, so that none of them are free,--understanding, will, affections, and the members of our body are all servants of unrighteousness to this body of sin, and old man. So we read of the motions of sin, Rom. vii. 5, which work in our members to bring forth fruit unto death; and of the lusts of the flesh, Rom. xiii. 14. Gal. v. 16, 24; and the lusts of sin, Rom. vi. 12. So we hear of the desires of the flesh and of the mind, Eph. ii. 3; and of affections and lusts, Gal. v. 24. And the old man is said to be corrupt, according to the deceitful lusts, Eph. iv. 22; all which lusts and affections are as so many members of this body of sin, and of this old man. And, further, there is herein a considerable power, force, and efficacy, which this old man hath in us, to carry us away, and, as it were, command or constrain us, as by a forcible law. Hence we read of the law of sin and death, Rom. viii. 2, which only the "law of the Spirit of life in Christ doth make us free from." It is also called a "law in our members warring against the law of our mind," Rom. vii. 23, "and bringing us into captivity to the law of sin which is in our members." So it is said, "to lust against the Spirit, and to war," Gal. v. 17. All which point out the strength, activity, and dominion of sin in the soul, so that it is as the husband over the wife, Rom. vii. 1; yea, it hath a domineering and constraining power, where its horns are not held in by grace. And as its power is great, so its nature is wicked and malicious; for it is pure "enmity against God," Rom. viii. 7; so that it neither is nor can be reconciled, and therefore must be put off and abolished, Eph. ii. 15; killed and crucified, Rom. vi. 6. Now herein lieth the work of a believer, to be killing, mortifying, and crucifying this enemy, or rather enmity; and delivering himself from under this bondage and slavery, that he may be Christ's free man, and that through the Spirit, Rom. viii. 13. Now, if it be asked, How shall a believer make use of Christ, to the end this old man may be gotten crucified? or, how should a believer mortify this old man, and the lusts thereof, through Christ, or by the Spirit of Jesus? We shall propose those things, which may help to clear this: 1. The believer should have his eye on this old man as his arch-enemy, as a deadly cut-throat lying within his bosom. It is an enemy lodging within him, in his soul, mind, heart, and affections, so that there is no part free; and therefore is acquaint with all the motions of the soul, and is always opposing and hindering every thing that is good. It is an enemy that will never be reconciled to God, and therefore will not be reconciled with the believer as such; for it is called enmity itself, and so it is always actively seeking to promove the ruin of the soul, what by prompting, inclining, moving, and forcibly drawing or driving, sometimes with violence and rage, to evil; what by with standing, resisting, opposing, counter-working, and contradicting what is good; so that the believer cannot get that done which he would do, and is made to do that which he would not. Therefore this being such an enemy, and so dangerous an enemy, so constant and implacable an enemy, so active and close an enemy, so deadly and destructive, it is the believer's part to guard against this enemy, to have a vigilant eye upon it, to carry as an irreconcilable enemy thereunto; and therefore never to come in terms of capitulation or agreement therewith, never once to parley, let be make peace. And the believer would not have his vigilant eye upon this or that member of this body of death, so much as upon the body itself, or the principle of wickedness and rebellion against God; the head, life, spirit, or law, of this body of death; for there lieth its greatest wickedness and activity; and this is always opposing us, though not in every joint and member; but sometimes in one, sometimes in another. 2. Though the believer should have a main eye upon the body, this innate, strong, and forcible law of sin and death, yet should he have friendship and familiarity with no part, member, or lust of all this body. All the deeds of the body should be mortified, Rom. viii. 13; the old man with his deeds should be mortified, Col. iii. 6; and we should "mortify our members which are upon the earth," verse 5; for all of them are against us, and the least of them countenanced, entertained, and embraced, will work our ruin, and cut our soul's throat; therefore should the believer look on each of them, and on all of them, as his deadly enemies. 3. He should consider, that, as it is a very unseemly thing for him to be a slave to that old tyrant, and to yield his members as so many servants to iniquity, so it is dangerous and deadly. His life lieth at the stake; either he must get it mortified, killed, and subdued, or it will kill him; his life will go for its life; if this enemy escape, he is a gone man. The consideration of this should cause the believer to act here in earnestness and seriousness, with care and diligence, and set about this work of mortification with labour and pains. 4. Much more must it be against all reason and Christianity, for the believer to be making "provision for the flesh, to fulfil the lusts thereof," Rom. xiii. 14. To be strengthening the hands of, and laying provision to this enemy, which is set and sworn against us, can stand with no reason. And here is much of the Christian's prudence and spiritual wisdom required, to discern what may make for fostering of this or that corruption, or member of the body of sin and death, and to withdraw that, as we will labour to take away provision of any kind from an enemy that is coming against us. Paul acted herein as a wise gamester and combatant, when he kept under his body, and brought it into subjection, 1 Cor. ix. 27. It were but to mock God, and to preach forth our own folly, to be looking to Christ for help against such an enemy, and, in the meantime, to be underhand strengthening the hands of the enemy; this would be double dealing, and treachery against ourselves. 5. To the end, their opposition unto this enemy may be the stronger and more resolute, they should consider, that this body of sin is wholly set against God, and his interest in the soul, being very enmity itself against God, Rom. viii. 7; and always lusting and fighting against the work of God in the soul, Gal. v. 17; and against every thing that is good, so that it will not suffer, so far as it can hinder the soul to do anything that is good, at least in a right manner, and for a right end. Nay, with its lustings, it driveth constantly to that which is evil, raiseth evil motions and inclinations in the soul, ere the believer be aware; sideth with any temptation that is offered, to the end that it may destroy the soul, like a traitor within; as we see it did in David, when he fell into adultery; and with Asaph, Psalm lxxiii. 2; yea, itself opposeth and tempteth, James i. 14, by setting mind, will, and affections on wrong courses; and thus it driveth the soul to a course of rebellion against God, or diverts it, and draws it back, that it cannot get God served aright; yea, sometimes it sets a fire in the soul, entangling all the faculties, filling the mind with darkness or prejudice, misleading or preventing the affections, and so miscarrying the will, and leading it captive, Rom. vii. 23; so that the thing is done which the unregenerate soul would not do, and the duty is left undone which the soul would fain have done; yea, and that sometimes notwithstanding of the soul's watching and striving against this; so strong is its force. 6. The believer should remember, that this enemy is not for him to fight against alone, and that his own strength and skill will make but a slender opposition unto it. It will laugh at the shaking of his spear; it can easily insinuate itself, on all occasions, because it lieth so near and close to the soul, always residing there, and is at the believer's right hand whatever he be doing, and is always openly or closely opposing, and that with great facility; for it easily besetteth, Heb. xii. 1, because it lieth within the soul, and in all the faculties of it--in the heart, mind, will, conscience, and affections; so that upon this account, the deceitfulness of the heart is great, and passeth the search of man, Jer. xvii. 9. Man cannot know all the windings and turnings, all the drifts and designs, all the lurking and retiring places, all the falsehoods and double dealings, all the dissimulations, lies, and subterfuges, all the plausible and deceitful pretexts and insinuations of his heart acted and spirited by this law of sin and death. And besides this slight and cunning, it hath strength and power to draw by lusts into destruction and perdition, 1 Tim. iv. 9, and to carry the soul headlong; so that it makes the man's case miserable, Rom. vii. 24. All which would say, that the believer should call in other help than his own, and remember, that "through the Spirit he must mortify the deeds of the body," Rom. viii. 13. 7. And therefore the believer must lay aside all his carnal weapons, in dealing with his adversary, and look out for divine help and assistance, even for the promised Spirit, through which alone he can be instructed and enabled for this great work; for of himself he can do nothing, not so much as think a good thought as of himself, 2 Cor. iii. 5, far less will he be able to oppose such a mighty adversary, that hath so great and many advantages; and therefore all his carnal means, purposes, vows, and fightings in himself, will but render himself weaker, and a readier prey unto this adversary, which gaineth ground while he is so opposed. It is Christ alone and his Spirit, that can destroy the works of the devil, and kill or crucify this enmity. 8. So that the believer must have his recourse for help and succour here, unto Jesus the Captain of salvation, and must follow him, and fight under his banners, make use of his weapons, which are spiritual; fight according to his counsel and conduct, taking him as a Leader and Commander, and lying open for his orders and instructions, waiting for the motions of his Spirit, and following them; and thus oppose and fight against this deadly enemy, with an eye always on Christ by faith, depending on him for light to the mind, resolution to the will, and grace to the whole soul to stand in the battle, and to withstand all assaults, and never engage in a dispute with this enemy, or any lust or member of this body without Christ the principal, that is, the soul would despair in itself, and be strong in him, and in the power of his might, by faith griping to him, as Head, Captain, and Commander-in-chief, resolving to fight in his strength, and to oppose through the help of his Spirit. 9. And for this cause, the believer would eye the covenant of redemption, the basis of all our hope and consolation, wherein final and full victory is promised to Christ, as Head of the elect, viz. "that he shall bruise the serpent's head;" and so that in him, all his followers and members of his mystical body shall lift up the head, and get full victory at length over both sin and death. Now it is "God that giveth us the victory, through our Lord Jesus Christ," 1 Cor. xv. 57. The believer would also eye by faith the covenant of grace, wherein particularly this same victory is promised to the believer, in and through Jesus, Rom. xvi. 20. "And the God of peace shall bruise Satan under your feet shortly; and sin shall not have dominion over you, for ye are not under the law, but under grace," Rom. vi. 14. The believer, I say, would look out by faith unto, and lay hold on these and the like promises, and thereby get strength conveyed to himself, whereby he may strive lawfully, and fight valiantly, and oppose with courage and resolution. 10. Further, the believer would eye Christ as a fountain of furniture, as a full and complete magazine, standing open, and ready for every one of his honest soldiers to run to for new supplies of what they want; so that whatever they find wanting in their Christian armour, they must run away to the open magazine, Christ's fulness, that standeth ready for them, and by faith take and put on what they want and stand in need of in their warfare. If their girdle of truth be slacked, loosed, or weakened, and they be meeting with temptations anent their hypocrisy, and Satan objecting to them their double dealing, of purpose to discourage them, and to make them faint and give over the fight; they must away to him who is the truth, that he may bind on that girdle better, and make their hearts more upright before God in all they do. And if their breastplate of righteousness be weakened, and Satan there seem to get advantage, by casting up to them their unrighteous dealings towards God or men, they must flee to him, who only can help here, and beg pardon through his blood for their failings, and set to again afresh to the battle. If their resolution, which is understood by the preparation of the gospel of peace, grow weak, it must be renewed in Christ's armoury, and the feet of new be shod therewith. If their shield of faith begin to fail them, away must they get to him who "is the Author and Finisher of faith," Heb. xii. 2. And if their helmet of hope begin to fail them, in this armoury alone can that be supplied. And if their sword be blunted in their hand, or they unable to wield it aright, the Spirit of Jesus can only teach their hands to fight, and instruct them how to manage that useful weapon with advantage. Thus must the believer "be strong in him, and in the power of his might," Eph. vi. 10. "He is their God that girdeth them with strength, and maketh their way perfect. He maketh their feet like hind's feet, and setteth them upon their high places. He teacheth their hands to war, so that a bow of steel is broken by their arms. He giveth them the shield of salvation. His right hand upholdeth them. He girdeth with strength unto the battle," &c. Psalm xviii. 32, &c. 11. For the further strengthening of their hope, faith, and confidence, believers would eye Christ, as hanging on the cross, and overcoming by death, death, and him that hath the power of death, the devil; and so as meritoriously purchasing this redemption from the slavery of sin and Satan, and particularly from the slavery of that body of death, and of the law of sin and death; for the apostle tells us, Rom. viii. 2, "That the law of the Spirit of life in Christ Jesus doth make us free from the law of sin and death," and that because, as he saith further, ver. 3, 4, "what the law could not do, in that it was weak through the flesh, God sending his own Son in the likeness of sinful flesh, and for sin condemned sin in the flesh; that the righteousness of the law might be fulfilled in us." So that the believer may now look upon that enemy, how fearful soever it may appear, as condemned and killed in the death, of Christ; he having laid down the price of redemption, hath bought this freedom from the chains and fetters with which he was held in captivity. Faith, then, on the death of Jesus satisfying justice for the poor captive, may, and should support and strengthen the hope and confidence of the believer, that he shall obtain the victory at length. 12. And it will further confirm the hope and faith of the believer, to look to Christ hanging on the cross, and there vanquishing and overcoming this arch-enemy, as a public person, representing the elect who died in him, and virtually and legally did in him overcome that jailor, and break his fetters; and the soul now believing, may, yea, should reckon itself in Christ dying, as it were, upon the cross, and there overcoming all those spiritual enemies. "Likewise," saith the apostle, Rom. vi. 11, "Reckon ye also yourselves to be dead indeed unto sin." From hence, even while fighting, the believer may account himself a conqueror, yea, "more than a conqueror, through him that loved him," Rom. viii. 37. Now faith acting thus on Christ, as a public person, dying and overcoming death and sin, the believer may not only infer the certainty of victory, knowing that our old man is crucified with Christ, Rom. vi. 6; but also from the cross of Christ draw strength to stand and fight against the strugglings of this vanquished and killed enemy. "They that are Christ's have crucified the flesh with the affections and lusts," Gal. v. 24. But how? Even by the cross of Christ. "For thereby is the world crucified unto me," saith the apostle, Gal. vi. 14, "and I unto the world." "Your old man is crucified with him, that the body of sin might be destroyed," Rom. vi. 6. 13. The believer being dead indeed unto sin, through the cross of Christ, is to look upon himself as legally freed from that yoke of bondage under sin and death. "The law hath dominion over a man as long as he liveth," Rom. vii. 1. "But by the body of Christ believers are become dead to the law," ver. 4. That law of sin and death which hath dominion over a man that liveth still in nature, and is not yet by faith planted in the likeness of Christ's death, nor buried with him by baptism into death, Rom. vi. 4, 5, hath not that dominion over believers it had once--"For the law of the Spirit of life in Christ Jesus hath made them free from the law of sin and death," Rom. viii. 2; so that now the believer, is free from that tyranny; and that tyrant can exercise no lawful jurisdiction or authority over him; and therefore he may with the greater courage repel the insolencies of that tyrant, that contrary to all right and equity seeketh to lord it over him still. They are no lawful subjects to that cruel and raging prince, or to that spiritual wickedness. 14. So that the believer, renouncing that jurisdiction under which he was formerly, and being under a new husband, and under a new law, even the law of the Spirit of life in Christ Jesus, is to look upon all the motions of sin as illegal, and as treasonable acts of a tyrant. "The old man being crucified with Christ, that the body of sin might be destroyed, the believer is not any more to serve sin," Rom. vi. 6; "and being now dead, they are freed from sin," ver. 7; "and are married to another, even to him who is raised from the dead, and so they should not serve sin, but bring forth fruit unto God," Rom. vii. 4; and therefore, look upon all motions of the flesh, and all the inclinations and stirrings of the old law of sin, as acts of treachery and rebellion against the right and jurisdiction of the believer's new Lord and husband; and are therefore obliged to lay hold on this old man, this body of death, and all the members of it, as traitors to the rightful king and husband, and to take them prisoners to the king, that he may give out sentence, and execute the same against them, as enemies to his kingdom and interest in the soul;--they being now no more "servants of sin, but of righteousness, they ought no more to yield their members servants to uncleanness, and iniquity unto iniquity," Rom. vi. 18, 19; "and being debtors no more to the flesh, to live after the flesh," Rom. vii. 12; "they are to mortify the deeds of the body through the spirit," ver. 13; "and to crucify the flesh with the affections and lusts," Gal. v. 24; that is, by bringing them to the cross of Christ, where first they were condemned and crucified, in their full body and power; that a new sentence, as it were, may go out against them, as parts of that condemned tyrant, and as belonging to that crucified body. 15. So that the believer that would carry faithfully in this matter, and fight lawfully in this warfare, and hope to obtain the victory through Jesus Christ, must bring these traitors that appear in their sinful motions and lusts in the soul, working rebellion against the just authority and equitable laws of the lawful prince Jesus, before the tribunal of him who hath now got "all power and authority in heaven and in earth," Matt, xxviii. 18; "and hath all judgment committed to him," John v. 22; "and to this end, both died, and rose, and revived, that he might be Lord both of the dead and living," Rom. xvi. 9; that he may execute justice upon the traitor, head, and members; that he may trample these devils under, and bruise the head of these serpents within us. The believer then is by faith in prayer, to carry these open enemies to Christ, and declare and witness against them as traitors, by what mischief they have done in the soul, by their hindering the righteous laws of the king to be obeyed; and constraining and forcing, what by arguments and allurements, and what by forcible inclinations and pousings, to a disobedience and a counteracting of Christ; and he should urge and plead upon the fundamental laws of the land, viz. the articles of agreement betwixt the Father and the Son, and the faithful promises of the covenant of grace; and upon Christ's office as king and governor, and his undertaking as Mediator; upon the merits of his death and sufferings; upon his dying as a common person; upon the constitution of the gospel, whereby they are in law repute as dying in him, and so free from the law of sin and death; and upon their relation to him as their new Lord, Head, Husband, King, Commander, &c. Upon these arguments, I say, to plead for justice against the rebel that is now brought to the bar, and so by faith leave the prisoner in his hand, that he may, in his own time and way, give a second blow unto the neck of this implacable and raging enemy, that he may not rise up to disturb the peace of the soul as before; or to trouble, impede, and molest the soul in paying the homage and obedience due to his lawful master and sovereign king, JESUS. CAUTIONS AND DIRECTIONS. For further clearing of the premises, I would propose a few particulars, for caution and direction, as,-- 1. This work of laying the burden of this business on Christ by faith, would be gone about with much singleness of heart, aiming at the glory of God, and the carrying on of his work in the soul; and not for self-ends, and carnal by-respects, lest thereby we mar all. 2. It would be carried on, without partiality, against all and every one of the lusts and motions of the old man. For if there be a compliance with and a sparing of any one known lust, the whole work may be marred; they may meet with a disappointment as to the particular lust they are desiring victory over;--and the lust they are harbouring, though it may seem little, may open a door to many stronger, and so occasion sad days to the man, ere he be aware. 3. As they would bring the particular lust, or lusts, unto Christ, as chief Lord Justice; so they would always lay the axe to the root of the tree, and crave justice against the main body, that yet lieth within the soul; and these particular corruptions and affections, that are as members of that body of sin, should put them in mind of the old man, for they should "crucify the flesh with the affections and lusts thereof," Gal. v. 24; the body and the members. These lusts are the lusts of sin, or of that head-sin, which hath a law, or the force and impulse of a law in the soul; and therefore their main design would be against this root, where lieth the strength and body of the enemy, and which acteth in those members; this is the capital enmity, and should be mainly opposed. And the following of this course would prove more successful than that which many time we take: our nibbling at, or wrestling against this or that member of the body of death, is but of little advantage, so long as the main body of sin, the bitter root of wickedness, the carnal mind, this innate enmity is miskent, and not opposed; but on the contrary, strike at this, we strike at all. 4. This would be the believer's constant work, to be "crucifying the flesh, with the lusts thereof; to be mortifying their members," wherein the members of the old man quarter and lodge, Col. iii. 5; "to be spiritually minded, and to mind the things of the Spirit," Rom. viii. 5, 6. "For the carnal mind is enmity, against God," Rom. viii. 7; "and so is not subject to the law of God, neither indeed can be." It is not only an enemy which may be reconciled, but enmity in the abstract, which never can be reconciled. And this enmity will never be idle; for it cannot till it be fully and finally destroyed; "the flesh is always lusting against the spirit,'" Gal. v. 17; "for they are contrary one to the other." So that though, to our sense, it may sometimes appear as sleeping, in regard that it doth not by some particular lust so molest and perplex the soul as formerly it did: yet it is restless, and may be more active in another lust, and so by changing weapons on us, deceive us. Here then is much spiritual wisdom and vigilancy required. When they think they have gotten one lust subdued, they must not think the war is at an end; but after all their particular victories, watch and pray, that they enter not into temptation. 5. This way of laying the weight of the matter on Christ, should and will keep them humble, and teach them not to ascribe the glory of any good that is done unto themselves, but to give him all the glory, who is jealous of his glory, and will not give it to another, that the crown may alone flourish on his head, who is the captain of their salvation, and who by his Spirit worketh all their works in them. 6. Nor would this way of carrying the matter to Christ, and putting it over on him, cause the believer become negligent in commanded duties, reading, hearing prayer, &c; for it is there he must expect to meet with Christ; there must he seek him, and there must he wait for him, and his Spirit to do the work desired. For though he hath not limited himself to these means, so, as he cannot, or will not any other way help, yet he hath bound us to them; and it is our duty to wait there, where he hath commanded us to wait, though he should sometime think good to come another way, for the manifestation of the sovereignty of his grace. 7. Yet while we are about the means, we would guard against a leaning to them, lest, instead of getting victory over corruption, we be brought more in bondage thereunto another way. We must not think that our prayers, or our hearing, or reading, &c. will bring down the body of death, or subdue any one corruption; for that were but an yielding to corruption, and opening a back door to the carnal mind, and to another deadly lust, and a beating corruption with a sword of straw. This is not to mortify the deeds of the body through the Spirit, but through the flesh; and a fleshly weapon will never draw blood of this spiritual wickedness or old man, or of any corrupt lust or affection thereof; and yet how many times doth our deceitful heart bias us this way? Our work would be, as is said, to use the ordinances as means, whereby we may get the business laid on Christ, and help from Christ to do the business. We must go to the means with our prisoner to find Christ there at his court and assizes, that he may take course with the traitor. 8. In all this there would be a looking to, and dependence on Christ for help and grace; because of ourselves, as of ourselves, we cannot do this much; we cannot complain aright of corruptions, nor take them away to Christ, nor ask for justice against them. As constables and other officers must carry malefactors to the courts of justice, upon public charges; so Christ will not have us doing or attempting this much on our own charges, for he giveth noble allowance. 9. In following of this course, we would not think always to come speed at the first. Sometimes the Lord, for the encouragement of his children, may give them a speedy hearing, and deliver them from the tyranny of some particular lust or other that hath troubled them; so that for some time at least, it shall not so trouble them as it did. Yet he will not do so always, but may think it good to keep them waiting on him, and hanging on his courts for some considerable time, that he may thereby exercise their faith, patience, desire, zeal, and diligence. So that it should not seem strange to us, if we be not admitted at the first, and get not our answer at the first cry. 10. When the Lord thinketh good to delay the answer to our desires, and the execution of justice on the malefactor and traitor, or to deliver us from his tyranny and trouble, we would beware of thinking to capitulate with the enemy for our peace and quiet, or to enter into a cessation of arms with him; that is, our enmity against him should never abate; nor should our desire after the mortification and crucifixion of this lust grow less; nor should we be at quiet and at peace, though it should seem to grow a little more calm and still, or not to rage as formerly; for this looks but like a covenant or confederacy with lust, which will not stand. 11. We would also know, that what Christ said of devils, holdeth good of these lusts, viz. "that some of them do not go out but by fasting and prayer;" that is, by Christ sought unto and found in these means. There are some lusts that will not be so easily killed and mortified as others, but will cost us more pains and labour, as being corruptions which possibly have some greater advantage of our natural temper and constitution of body, or of long continuance and a cursed habit, or the like. We must not then think it strange, if some such lust be not subdued so easily as some others to which we have fewer and weaker, and not so frequent temptations. 12. As we cannot expect a full conquest of the body of death, so long as we are here, as was shown above, neither can we expect a full and final victory over any one lust, which ever we have been troubled with. It is true, believers may be kept from some gross out-breaking of a corruption, which sometime prevailed, as Peter was from relapsing into an open and downright denying his Master; yet that same corruption did afterward stir, though not so violently as to carry him to such an height of sin; yet so far as to cause him do that which was a partial denying of his Master, when Paul withstood him to the face, because he was to be blamed for withdrawing from the Gentiles, for fear of them of the circumcision, &c. Gal. ii. 11, 12.: So, though a particular lust may be so far subdued through grace, as that for some considerable time a man may not find it so violent as it was; yet be cannot say that it is totally killed, because it may stir thereafter in some weaker measure; yea, he cannot tell, but ere he come to die, that same corruption may rise to be as violent as ever, and that Satan may again think to enter the soul at that same breach which once he entered at; yea, and who can tell, whether God may not suffer that corruption, which lay long as dead, to revive again for a time, and for a time drive the soul as violently as ever, and prevail for a time? And this should teach all to walk soberly, watchfully, and in fear, and to have a vigilant eye, even upon such lusts and carnal affections, as they may suppose they have got the victory of. 13. We would not think that we gain no ground upon corruption, because we still perceive it stirring, less or more; for as corruption is not always strongest, as was said above, nor hath the deepest footing in the soul, when its motions and stirrings are most felt; so neither must we think that there is no ground gained upon a lust, because we are still troubled and molested with its stirrings; for it is a great advantage to be more sensible of the motions of this enemy; and our more faithful and active wrestling against it may make its least stirrings more sensible to us; as the motions and trouble which a malefactor, while in grips and in prison, maketh, may be thought more of than his greater ragings before he was apprehended; yet he may be sure in fetters for all that. A beast that hath gotten death's blow may get out of grips, and run more mad than ever, and yet will die at length of the same blow. 14. Though we should find present ease and quiet by our following this way, yet we should think it much, if the Lord help us to stand, when we have done all we can, though we meet not with the hoped for success presently; if he give us grace to continue without wearying or fainting, and to be resolved never to give over, we have reason to bless him; if we be kept still in the conflict with pursuit of the enemy, it is our great advantage; the victory shall come in God's own time. If our opposition so continue, that we are resolved never to take nor give quarter, though our trouble and exercise should be the greater, and our ease and quiet the less, we ought to bless him, yea, and rejoice in hope of what he shall yet do for us; for he that will come, shall come, and will not tarry. Let us wait for him, in doing our duty, and faithfully keeping our post. 15. Yea, if we get quietness or ease from the violence of raging lusts for any little time, and be not continually driven and carried headlong therewith, we ought to be thankful for this, and to walk humbly before him; lest he be provoked by our unthankfulness and pride, and let these furious dogs loose upon us again. 16. When we are bending our strength and all our forces against some one corruption or other, which possibly hath been most troublesome to us, we would not be secure as to all others, or think that we are in hazard only on this side; for Satan may make a feint here, and really intend an assault at another place, by some other corrupt affection. O what need have we of spiritual wisdom that we may be better acquainted with his stratagems and wiles I Let us so then fight against one member of this body of death, as to have our eye upon others, lest when we think to keep out Satan at the fore-door, he enter in at the back-door. He can make use of extremities, and play his game with both; yea, and gain his point, if we be not aware. OBJECTIONS ANSWERED. It will not be amiss, for further explaining of the matter, to remove a scruple or two. Some may say, that they cannot perceive that all their pains in this matter come to any good issue; for they never found corruption stir more, and act more lively and incessantly, than since they began to fight against it in good earnest; so that this would seem not to be the right way. I answer, Though from what is said before, particularly cautions 9th and 13th, a resolution of this doubt maybe had; yet I shall propose those things, for further clearing of the matter: 1. May not much of this flow from thy not laying the whole work so wholly off thyself, and upon Christ, as thou oughtest to do? Try and see. 2. May not the devil rage most, when he thinks ere long to be ejected? May he not labour to create most trouble to the soul, when he seeth that he is like to be put from some of his strengths? 3. May not the devil be doing this of purpose to drive thee to despair of ever getting corruption subdued and mortified; or to a fainting and sitting up in the pursuit, and to a despondency of spirit; that so instead of fighting or standing, thou may cede and turn thee back? And should we comply with him in his designs? 4. May not the Lord give way to this for a time, to try thy seriousness, patience, submission and faith, and to sharpen thy diligence, and kindle up thy zeal? And should we not submit to his wise dispensations? 5. How can thou say that thou gainest no advantage, as long as thou art not made to lay aside the matter wholly, as hopeless of any good issue; but, on the contrary, art helped to stand, and to resist sin, to cry out against it, to fight as thou canst, and at least not to yield? 6. What if God see it for thy advantage, that thou be kept so in exercise for a time, to the end thou may be kept humble, watchful, and diligent? He may see more of thee, than thou canst see of thyself, and so may know what is best for thee; and should thou not condescend to be disposed of by him as he will, and to let him make of thee, and do with thee what he will? 7. What if God be about to chasten thee thus for thy former negligence, security, and unwatchfulness, and giving too much advantage to those lusts, which now, after his awakening of thee, thou would be delivered from? Should thou not bear the indignation of the Lord, because thou hast sinned against him, as the Church resolved to do, Micah vii. 9? 8. Is it not thy duty the more that corruption stirs, to run with it the oftener to Christ, that he may subdue it and put it to silence? May not thou improve this to thy advantage, by making many errands to him? 9. May it not come in a day, that hath not come in a year? Art thou sure, that all thy pains shall be in vain? Or thinkest thou that all his children have got victory alike soon over their lusts? What cause is there then to complain thus? 10. May not all this convince thee, that it is thy duty to wait on him, in the use of his appointed means, and to be patient, standing fast to thy post, resolving, when thou hast done all, yet to stand? 11. May not this satisfy thee, that God through grace accepteth thy labour and wrestling, as thy duty, and accounteth it service to him, and obedience? But again, it may possibly be objected thus: so long as I am in this condition, kept under with my lusts, I cannot get God glorified and served as he ought to be. I answer, though so long as it is so with thee, thou cannot glorify and serve him, in such a particular manner as others, who have got more victory over those evils under which thou art groaning, yet God can get glory and service of thee another way; as, 1. By thy submission, with calmness of spirit, to his wise dispensations, when thou dare not speak against him, and say, with Rebecca, in another case, if it be so, why am I thus? But sweetly and willingly cast thyself down at his feet, saying, good is the will of the Lord; let him do what seemeth him good, &c. 2. By thy patient on-waiting, when thou art not wearying nor fainting, but saying, why should I not wait upon the great King's leisure? Is he not free to come when he will? Dare I set limits to the Holy One of Israel? 3. By thy humility, when thou blessest him, for keeping thee so long out of hell, and thinkest much of his giving thee grace to see and observe the stirrings of corruption, which carnal wretches never perceive; and helping thee to withstand and complain of corruption, which they sweetly comply with. 4. By thy hatred of sin, when all that Satan can do cannot make thee comply with those lusts, or sweetly embrace those vipers, or lie down in peace with those rotten members of the old man, as others do. 5. By thy watchfulness, when all thy disappointments cause thee the more earnestly watch against that enemy. 6. By thy acting faith, when still thou art carrying sin in its lusts to Christ to kill and subdue, as believing the tenor of the gospel and new covenant. 7. By thy hope, which appeareth by thy not despairing, and giving over the matter as a hopeless business, and turning aside to wicked courses. 8. By thy praying, when thou criest to him continually for help, who only can help. 9. By thy wrestling and standing against all opposition, for thereby is his strength made perfect in thy weakness, 2 Cor. xii. 9. 10. By thine obedience; for it is his command that thou stand and fight this good fight of faith. So that if thou hast a desire to glorify him, thou wants not occasion to do it, even in this condition wherein thou complainest that thou cannot get him glorified. And if those grounds do not satisfy thee, it is to be feared that it is not so much a desire to glorify him, that moveth thee to cry so earnestly for actual delivery from the trouble of the flesh and the lusts thereof, as something else, which thou may search after and find out; such as love to ease, quietness, applause and commendation of others, or the like. But, in the _third_ place, it may be objected, is it not promised that sin shall not have dominion over us, as "not being under the law, but under grace," Rom. vi. 14. How can we then but be troubled, when we find not this promise made good? I answer, 1st, Sin is not always victorious and domineering, when it seemeth to rage and stir most. Your opposition thereunto, fighting and wrestling against it, sheweth that it hath not full dominion. So long as an invading usurper is opposed, he hath not full dominion, not having peaceable possession of what he is seeking; and thus the promise is in part accomplished. 2. Victory and a full conquest over the flesh, and lusts thereof, is not promised to any believer, at his first appearing in the fields to fight; nor granted to all in any measure, at their first putting on their armour. 3. Therefore it is thy part to fight on, and wait for that full victory, viz. that sin shall not have dominion over thee, for it shall come in due time. 4. God hath his own time and seasons wherein he accomplisheth his promises; and we must leave him a latitude, both as to the time when, and as to the manner how, and as to the degree in which he shall make good his promises; and he is wise in his dispensations. Therefore, though the promise as yet appeareth not to be accomplished, there is no true cause of trouble of mind, because it shall be afterward fully accomplished; and the wrestling against sin, saith that it is in great measure accomplished already; because where it hath a full dominion, it suppresseth all opposition or contradiction, except some faint resistance, which a natural conscience, for carnal ends, on carnal principles and grounds, may, now or then, make against this or that particular corruption, which occasioneth shame, disgrace, loss, challenges of a carnal conscience, and disquietness that way, when yet it is not hated nor wrestled against as sin, or as a member of the old man, and the body of death. The objector would consider, that having subjected his consent to Christ, he is delivered really from that natural state of bondage under sin as a lawful lord, howbeit the old tyrant, now wanting a title, is making new invasions, to trouble the peace and quiet of the soul. _Fourthly,_ It may be said, but what can then, in the mean time, keep up the heart of a poor soul from sinking? _Ans._ Several things, if rightly considered, might help to support the soul in this case, as, 1. That they are helped to wrestle against this body of death, in all the members of it, so soon as they discover themselves, were it their right eye and right hand. 2. That these lusts gain not ground upon them; or if they do seem to gain ground, yet they attain not to a full dominion, not gaining their consent. 3. That God is faithful, and therefore the promised victory shall be had in due time, and Satan's head shall certainly be bruised. 4. That the wrestling soul is about his duty, carrying as a good soldier of Jesus Christ, fighting the battles of the Lord, and waiting on him in faith and hope. But further, _fifthly,_ some may say, If I were kept from yielding, my wrestling and standing would yield me some comfort; but when lust so stirreth, as that it conceiveth and bringeth forth sin, (James i. 15,) what can support or comfort me then? _Ans._ 1. Corruption cannot stir in us, but therein we sin, for the very first rise, the _motus primo-primi_, as they are called, are sinful, being contrary to the holy law of God; and the very in-being of that old man is our sin; for it is sinful, and rebellious against God, yea it is very enmity and rebellion itself. When Satan cometh with a temptation from without, he findeth always much in us to entertain the temptation. So that the very stirring of corruption, which is occasioned by the temptation from without, is our guilt. 2. It is true it is our duty, to set against the first risings and motions of corruption, when it first enticeth, before it hath conceived or brought forth sin; and it will argue grace in life and in action, to be able to hinder the motions of lust so far, that it shall not conceive and bring forth sin. Yet we may not say, that there is no grace in the soul, or no measure of mortification attained, where lust sometimes not only enticeth, but conceiveth and bringeth forth sin. The sad experience of many of God's worthies, registrated in the word, cleareth this abundantly. We must not say, such an one is fallen, therefore he is dead. Paul reasoneth otherways, Rom. vii. 3. Yet even then, when lust conceiveth and bringeth forth sin, this may comfort and bear up the heart of a poor believer. (1.) That though corruption prevail so far, as to bear down all opposition, and run down all that standeth in its way, yet it getteth not the full consent of the soul: there is still a party for God in the soul, that opposeth so far as to protest against it, or at least to dissent from it, and not to will that which yet is done, and positively to will that which cannot be gotten effectuated, (2.) And further, this may bear up the poor soul, that there is a party within, which, though for a time, during the violent overrunning of corruption, can do little more than sigh and groan in a corner, yet is waiting and longing for an opportunity when it may appear more for God, and against that wicked usurper. (3.)So also this may comfort the poor soul, that as it perceiveth corruption stirring, and the old man moving one member or other, it runneth away to the king; and when it is not able to apprehend the traitor, and take him captive to the court of justice, doth there discover the traitor, and tell the king that there is such or such a traitor acting such and such rebellion against him and his laws, and complain and seek help to take the rebel prisoner, and bring him bound hand and foot to the king, that he may give out sentence against him; that is, when he can do no more against that raging enemy, maketh his complaint to the Lord, and lieth before him, sighing and groaning for help and strength to withstand and oppose more this enemy. _Lastly,_ Some may yet object, and say, If it were not worse with me than it is with others, I could then be satisfied; but I see some mightily prevailing over corruption, and I am still at under, and can get no victory; and can I choose but be sad at this? I answer, 1. Dost thou know for a certainty, that those persons whose condition thou judgest happy, are altogether free of the inward stirrings of those lusts that thou art brought under by? Or dost thou know for a certainty that they are not under the power of some other corruption, as thou thinkest thyself under the power of that corruption whereof thou complainest? What knowest thou, then, but they may be as much complaining on other accounts as thou dost on that? 2. But be it so as thou supposeth, that there is a difference betwixt thy condition and the condition of others, knowest thou not, that all the members of the body are not alike great and strong, as not being equally to be employed in work requiring strength. Are there not some young strong men in Christ's family, and some that are but babes? May not a captain send some of his soldiers to one post, where they shall possibly not see the enemy all the day long, and some others to another post, where they shall have no rest all the day? And why, I pray, may not God dispose of his soldiers as he will? He knoweth what he is doing: It is not safe that every one of the soldiers know what are the designs of the commander or general; nor is it always fit for us to know or to inquire what may be the designs of God with us, and what he may be about to do. He may intend to employ one in greater works than another, and so exercise them otherways for that warfare and work. It may suffice that the prevailing of others may encourage thee to hope, that at last thy strong corruptions shall also fall by the hand of the grace of God. 3. If thy sadness savour not of envy and fretting, thou should bless him that hereby thou art put to the exercise of spiritual sorrow. 4. It is well if this bring thee to bless God for the success of others, because hereby his grace is glorified, 1 Cor. xii. 26. Therefore, 5. Let this satisfy us, That he is the Lord, who doeth what he will in heaven and in earth, and may dispose of us as he will, and make of us what he will, for his own glory. And that we are to mind our duty, and be faithful at our post, standing and fighting in the strength of the Lord, resolving never to comply with the enemy, and to rejoice in this, that the enemy is already conquered by the captain, and that we share in his victory, and that the very God of peace shall quickly bruise Satan under our feet, Rom. xvi. 20. CHAPTER VII. HOW CHRIST IS TO BE MADE USE OF, IN REFERENCE TO GROWING IN GRACE. I come now to speak a little to the other part of sanctification, which concerneth the change of our nature and frame, and is called vivification, or quickening of the new man of grace; which is called the new man, as having all its several members and parts, as well as the old man; and called new, because posterior to the other; and after regeneration is upon the growing hand, this duty of growing in grace, as it is called, 2 Pet. iii. &c. is variously expressed and held forth to us in Scripture; for it is called "an abiding and bringing forth fruit in Christ," John xv. 5; "adding to faith virtue, and to virtue knowledge," 2 Pet. i. 5, 6, 7; "a going on to perfection," Heb. vii. 1; "a growing up in Christ in all things," Eph. iv. 15; "a working out our salvation," Phil. ii. 12; "a perfecting of holiness," 2 Cor. vii. 1; "a walking in newness of life," Rom. vi. 4; "a yielding of ourselves unto God, as alive from the dead, and our members as instruments of righteousness unto God," Rom. vi. 13, 18; "a bringing forth fruit unto God," Rom, vii. 4; "a serving in newness of spirit," Rom. vii. 6; "a being renewed in the spirit of our minds, and a putting on the new man, which after God is created in righteousness and true holiness," Eph. iv. 23,24. Col. iii. 10, and the like: some whereof do more immediately express the nature of this change, as to the root, and some as to the fruit and effects thereof, and some the progress and advancement that is made or to be made therein. And all of them point out a special piece of work, which lieth on all that would see the face of God, viz. to be holy, gracious, and growing in grace. This, then, being a special piece of the exercise and daily work of a Christian, and it being certain, as some of the places now cited do also affirm, that without Christ they cannot get this work either begun or carried on, the main difficulty and question is, How they are to make use of Christ for this end? For answer whereunto, though by what we have said in our former discourse, it may be easy to gather what is to be said here; yet I shall briefly put the reader in mind of those things, as useful here. 1. The believer would consider what an ornament this is to the soul, to have on this new man, which is created after the image of God, Eph. iv. 23. What an excellency lieth here, to recover that lost glory, holiness and the image of God? and what advantage the soul reapeth hereby, when it "is made meet to be a partaker of the inheritance of the saints in light," Col. i. 12; "and walking worthy of the Lord unto all pleasing, being fruitful in every good work, and increasing in the knowledge of God," Col. i. 10; "and strengthened with all might, according to his glorious power, unto all patience and long-suffering, with joyfulness," ver. 11; and when the abounding of the graces of the Spirit maketh them "that they shall neither be barren nor unfruitful in the knowledge of our Lord Jesus Christ," 2 Pet. i. 8; "and to be a vessel unto honour, sanctified, and meet for the Master's use, and prepared unto every work," 2 Tim. ii. 21. What glory and peace is here, to be found obedient unto the many commands given to be holy: what hazard is in the want of holiness, when without it we cannot see God, Heb. xii. 14: how unanswerable it is unto our profession, who are members to such a holy head, to be unholy: what profit, joy, and satisfaction there is, in being temples of the Holy Ghost, in walking after the Spirit, in bringing forth fruit unto the glory of the Father, &c. The consideration of these and other motives unto this study of sanctification, would arm the soul with resolution, and harden it against opposition. 2. It would be remembered, that this work, though it be laid upon us, as our duty, and we be called thereunto of God, yet it is beyond our hand and power. It is true, at conversion, the seed of grace is cast into the soul, new habits are infused, a new principle of life is given, the stony heart is changed into an heart of flesh; yet these principles and habits cannot act in themselves, or be brought into act, by any thing that a believer, considered in himself, and without divine help, can do. But this work of sanctification and growth in grace must be carried on by divine help, by the Spirit of Jesus dwelling and working within; and therefore it is called the sanctification of the Spirit, 2 Thess. ii. 13. 1 Pet. i. 2. The God of peace must sanctify us, I Thess. v. 23. We are said to be sanctified by God the Father, Jude 1.; and by the Holy Ghost, Rom. xv. 16; see also 1 Cor. vi. 11. "We would remember that of ourselves we can do nothing," 2 Cor. iii. 5, and "that he must work in us both to will and to do of his own good pleasure," Phil. ii. 13. Albeit no believer will question the truth of this; yet it may be, it shall be found after trial, that one main cause of their not growing in grace, and making progress in this work, is their not acting as believing this, but setting about the work, as if it were a work which they themselves could master and do without special divine help. Therefore the believer would abide, live, and act, in the faith of this truth. 3. Therefore believers would not, in going about this work, either trust to their own strength, to the habits of grace, to their former experiences, to their knowledge and parts, or the like; nor yet would they trust to any external mean, which they are to go about; because the wisdom, strength, and help, which their case calleth for, is not to be found in them; yet they should not think of laying these means and duties aside, for then should they sin against God; they should prejudge themselves of the help, strength, and supply, which God useth to convey to the soul, in and by the use of the means. And withal, they should tempt the Lord, by prescribing another way to him than he hath thought good to take. The believer, then, would use the means and duties prescribed, and that diligently, seriously, and constantly; and yet would lean as little to them, and expect help and relief as little from them, as if he were not using them at all, as we said above. And indeed this would be a right way; yea, the most advantageous and profitable way, of going about duties, to be diligent in the use of them, because of God's command, and yet to place our hope and expectation in God alone, and to look above the ordinances for our help. 4. Albeit it be true that the power and grace of God alone, doth begin and carry on this work of sanctification in the soul: yet though he might, did he but see it for his glory, carry on and finish this work in the soul, without the intervention of second causes or means, he hath notwithstanding thought it fit, for the glory of his name, to work this work by means, and particularly by believers setting about the work. He worketh not in man as if he were a block or a stone, but useth him as a rational creature, endued with a rational soul, having useful and necessary faculties, and a body fired by organs to be subservient to the soul in its actions. Therefore the believer must not think to lie by and do nothing, for he is commanded to work out his own salvation, and that because it is God that worketh in him both to will and to do. Because God worketh all, therefore he should work; so reasoneth the apostle. So that God's working is an argument and motive to the man to work, and not an argument to him to lie by idle and do nothing. And here is the holy art and divine skill requisite in this business, to wit, for the believer to be as diligent and active as if he could bring forth fruit in his own strength, and by his own working; and yet to be as abstracted from himself, his own grace, ability, knowledge, experience, in his working, as if he were lying by like a mere block, and only moving as moved by external force. 5. The soul that would make progress in Christianity, and grow in grace, would remember that Christ is proposed to us as a copy, which we are to imitate, and that therefore we should set Christ continually before us as our pattern, that we may follow his steps, 1 Pet. i. 15, and ii. 21. But withal it would be remembered, that he is not like other ensamples or copies, that can help the man that imitateth them in no other way than by their objective prospect; for looking by faith on this copy, will bring virtue to the man that studieth to imitate, whereby he shall be enabled to follow his copy better. O! if we knew in experience what this were, to take a look of Christ's love, patience, long-suffering, meekness, hatred of sin, zeal, &c, and by faith to pore in, till, by virtue proceeding from that copy, we found our hearts in some measure framed into the same disposition, or at least more inclined to be cast into the same mould! 6. The believer would act faith on Christ, as the head of the body, and as the stock in which the branches are ingrafted, and thereby suck sap, and life, and strength from him, that he may work, walk, and grow, as becometh a Christian. The believer must grow up in him, being a branch in him, and must bring forth fruit in him, as the forementioned places clear. Now, Christ himself tells us, that the branches cannot bring forth fruit, except they abide in the vine; and that no more can his disciples bring forth, except they abide in him, John xv. Therefore, as it is by faith that the soul, as a branch, is united to Christ, as the vine; and as it is by faith that they abide in him; so it is by faith that they must bring forth fruit; and this faith must grip Christ as the vine, and the stock or root from which cometh sap, life, and strength. Faith, then, must look to Christ as the fountain of furniture--as the head from whence cometh all the influences of strength and motion. Christ hath strength and life enough to give out, for "the fulness of the Godhead dwelleth in him bodily;" and he is also willing enough to communicate of his fulness, as the relations he hath taken on do witness. The head will not grudge to give to the members of the body, spirits for action and motion; nor will a vine grudge to give sap into the branches. Nay, life, strength, and furniture will, as it were, natively flow out of Christ unto believers, except they, through unbelief, and other distempers, cause obstructions; as life and sap doth natively and kindly flow from the root to the branches, or from the head to the members, unless obstructions stop the passage. It is necessary, therefore, that believers eye Christ under these and the like relations, and look upon him as standing, (so to speak,) obliged by his place and relation, to grant strength and influences of life, whereby they may become fruitful in every good work; and so with holy, humble, and allowed boldness, press in faith for new communications of grace, virtue, strength, courage, activity, and what else they need; for, from the head, all the body, by joints and bands, having nourishment ministered, increaseth with the increase of God. Col. ii. 19. Eph. iv. 16. 7. For this cause believers would lie open to the influences of Christ, and guard against the putting of obstructions in the way, through grieving of the Spirit, by which he conveyeth and communicateth those influences unto the soul; and through questioning and misbelieving Christ's faithfulness and unchangeable willingness, which as a violent humour stoppeth the passage. So then believers would lie open by looking and waiting, drawing, seeking from him what they need, and by guarding against every thing that may provoke the Lord to anger, whether in omission or commission. Here is requisite, an holy, humble, sober, and watchful walk; an earnest, serious, and hungry looking out to him, and a patient waiting for supply and furniture from him. This is to open the mouth wide that he may fill it; to lie before the Sun of Righteousness, that the beams thereof may beat upon them, and warm and revive them; and to wait as a beggar at this King's gate, till he give the alms. 8. For the strengthening their hope and faith in this, they would lay hold upon Christ dying, and by his death purchasing all those influences of life and strength which are requisite for carrying on the work of grace and sanctification in the soul. For we must be "blessed in Christ with all spiritual blessings," Eph. i. 3. The believer, then, would look upon these influences, as purchased at a dear rate, by the blood of Jesus Christ; so that the divine power giveth unto us all things that pertain unto life and godliness, through the knowledge of him that hath called us to glory and virtue, 2 Peter i. 3. And this will encourage the soul to wait on, and expect the flowing down of influences, and spiritual blessings and showers of grace, to cause the soul to flourish and become fruitful, and to urge and press more earnestly by faith the bestowing of the purchased benefits. 9. Moreover, the believer would look on Jesus as standing engaged and obliged to carry on this work, both receiving them as for this end, from the Father. Hence we are said "to be chosen in him before the foundation of the world, that we should be holy," &c. Eph. i. 4; and as dying for them. For he gave himself for the church, that he might sanctify and cleanse it, that he might present it to himself a glorious church, that it should be holy, Eph. v. 25-27. He hath reconciled them, in the body of his flesh, through death, to present them holy, Col. i. 2, 22. So that the noble covenant of redemption may found the certain hope and expectation of the believer, upon a double account: (1.) Upon the account of the Father's faithfulness, who promised a seed to Jesus, viz. such as should be his children, and so be sanctified through him, and that the pleasure of the Lord, which in part is the work of sanctification, should prosper in his hand. And, (2.) Upon the account of Christ's undertaking and engaging, as is said, to bring his sons and daughters to glory, which must be thought sanctification; for without holiness no man shall see God. And they must look like himself, who is a holy head, a holy husband, a holy captain; and therefore they must be holy members, a holy spouse, and holy soldiers. So that he standeth engaged to sanctify them by his Spirit and word, and therefore is called the sanctifier, Heb. ii. 11; "for both he that sanctifieth, and they who are sanctified, are all one." Yea, their union with Christ layeth the foundation of this; for "being joined to the Lord, they become one Spirit," 1 Cor. vi. 17, and are animated and quickened by one and the same Spirit of life and grace, and therefore must be sanctified by that Spirit. 10. The believer likewise would act faith upon the promises of the new covenant, of grace, strength, life, &c, whereby they shall walk in his ways, have God's laws put into their minds, and wrote in their hearts, Heb. viii. 10. Jer. xxxi. 33; and of the new heart, and new spirit, and the heart of flesh, and the Spirit within them, to cause them walk in his ways or statutes, and keep his judgments, and do them, Ezek. xxxvi. 26, 27, and the like, wherewith the Scripture aboundeth; because these are all given over to the believer by way of testament and legacy, Christ becoming the Mediator of the New Testament, that by means of death, for the redemption of the transgressions that were under the first testament, they which are called might receive the promise of eternal inheritance, Heb. ix. 15. Now, Christ, by his death, hath confirmed this testament; "for where a testament is, there must also of necessity be the death of the testator; for a testament is of force after men are dead," vers. 16, 17. Christ, then, dying to make the testament of force, hath made the legacy of the promises sure unto the believer; so that now all the "promises are yea and amen in Christ," 2 Cor. i. 20. "He was made a minister of circumcision to confirm the promises made to the fathers," Rom. xv. 8. That the eyeing of these promises by faith is a noble mean to sanctification, is clear, by what the apostle saith, 2 Cor. vii. 1, "Having therefore these promises, let us cleanse ourselves; perfecting holiness in the fear of God." And it is by faith that those promises must be received, Heb. xi. 33: So that the believer that would grow in grace, would eye Christ, the fundamental promise, the testator establishing the testament, and the executor or dispensator of the covenant, and expect the good things through him, and from him, through the conduit and channel of the promises. 11. Yet further, believers would eye Christ in his resurrection, as a public person, and so look on themselves, and reckon themselves as rising virtually in and with him, and take the resurrection of Christ as a certain pawn and pledge of their sanctification; for so reasoneth the apostle, Rom. vi. 4, 5, 11, 13. "We are buried," says he, "with him by baptism unto death; that like as Christ was raised up from the dead by the glory of the Father, even so we also should walk in newness of life: For--we shall be also planted in the likeness of his resurrection; and if we be dead with Christ, we believe that we shall also live with him:--therefore reckon ye also yourselves to be--alive unto God, through Jesus Christ our Lord, and yield yourselves unto God, as those that are alive from the dead, and your members as instruments of righteousness unto God." The right improving of this ground would be of noble advantage to the student of holiness: for then he might with strong confidence conclude, that the work of sanctification should prosper in his hand; for he may now look upon himself as "quickened together with Christ," Eph. ii. 5. Christ dying and rising, as a public person, and he by faith being now joined with him, and united to him. 12. Moreover this resurrection of Christ may yield us another ground of hope and confidence in this work; for there is mention made of the power of his resurrection, Phil. iii. 10. So that by faith we may draw strength and virtue from Christ, as an arisen and quickened head, whereby we also may live unto God, and bring forth fruit unto him, and serve no more in the oldness of the letter, "but in the newness of the Spirit," Rom. vii. 4, 6. He was quickened as a head, and when the head is quickened, the members cannot but look for some communication of life therefrom, and to live in the strength of the life of the head: see Col. iii. 1, 2. 13. Faith may and should also look to Christ, as an intercessor with the Father. For this particular, John xvii. 17, "Sanctify them through thy truth, thy Word is truth:" and this will add to their confidence, that the work shall go on; for Christ was always heard of the Father, John xi. 41, 42, and so will be in his prayer, which was not put up for the few disciples alone. The believer then would eye Christ as engaging to the Father to begin and perfect this work; as dying to purchase the good things promised, and to confirm the same; as quickened, and rising as head and public person, to ensure this work, and to bestow and actually confer the graces requisite; and as praying also for the Father's concurrence, and cast the burden of the work on him by faith, knowing that he standeth obliged, by his place and relation to his people, to bear all their burthens, to work all their works in them, to perfect his own work that he hath begun in them, to present them to himself at last a holy bride, to give them the Spirit "to dwell in them," Rom. viii. 9, 11 "and to quicken their mortal bodies," ver. 11, "and to lead them," ver. 14; "till at length they be crowned, and brought forward to glory." This is to live by faith, when Christ liveth, acteth, and worketh in us by his Spirit, Gal. ii. 20. Thus Christ dwelleth in the heart by faith; and by this his people become rooted and grounded in love, which is a cardinal grace; and knowing the love of Christ, which passeth knowledge, they become filled with all the fulness of God, Eph. iii. 17, 19. So that the believer is to commit by faith the work to Christ, and leave the stress of all the business on him who is their life. Yet the believer must not think he is to do nothing, or to lay aside the means of ordinances, but using these diligently, would in them commit the matter to Christ, and by faith roll the whole work on him, expecting, upon the ground of his relations, engagements, promises, beginnings, &c., that he will certainly perfect the work, (Phil. i. 6,) and take it well off their hands, and be well pleased with them for putting the work in his hands, and leaving it on him "who is made of God to us sanctification." CAUTIONS. As in the former part, so here it will not be amiss to give a few words of caution, for preventing of mistakes. 1. We would beware of thinking that perfection can be attained here: the perfect man and measure of the stature of the fulness of Christ is but coming, and till then the body will be a perfecting and edifying, through the work of the ministry, Eph. iv. 12, 13. Believers must not think of sitting down on any measure of grace which they attain to here; but they must be growing in grace, going from strength to strength, till they appear in the upper Zion with the apostle, Phil. iii. 13. "Forgetting those things that are behind, and reaching forth unto those things which are before, they must press toward the mark, for the prize of the high calling of God in Christ Jesus." It must then be a dreadful delusion for any to think that they can reach to such a degree of perfection here, as not to stand in need of the ordinance any more. Let all believers live in the constant conviction of their shortcoming, and be humbled, and so work out their salvation with fear and trembling. 2. Nor should every believer expect one and the same measure of holiness, nor can it be expected with reason that all shall advance here to the same height of sanctity; for every part of the body hath its own measure, and an effectual working in that measure: and so every joint of the body supplieth less or more, according to its proportion, and contributeth to the increase of the body, and to the edifying of itself in love, as the apostle clearly sheweth, Eph. iv. 16. As in the natural body the diversity of functions and uses of the members requireth diversity of furniture and strength, so in the mystical body of Christ the members have not all alike measure, but each hath his proper distinct measure, according to his place and usefulness in the body. Believers then would learn much sobriety here and submission, knowing that God may dispense his graces as he will, and give them to each member in what measure he thinketh good: only they would take heed, that their poverty and leanness be not occasioned through their own carelessness and negligence, in not plying the means of grace with that faithfulness and single dependence on Christ that they ought. 3. It would be remembered, that there may be some progress made in the way of holiness, when yet the believer may apprehend no such thing; not only because the measure of the growth may be so small and indiscernible, but also because even where the growth in itself is discernible, the Lord may think it good, for wise ends, to hide it from their eyes, that they may be kept humble and diligent; whereas, if they saw how matters stood indeed with them, they might (without a new degree of grace) swell and be puffed up, yea, even forget God, and misken themselves and others too. Likewise this may proceed from such an earnest desire after more, that they forget any measure they have gotten, and so despise the day of small things. 4. There may be a great progress in holiness, though not in that particular which the believer is most eyeing to his sense and apprehension: for when he thinks he is not growing in love to and zeal for God, &c, he may be growing in humility, which is also a member of the new man of grace; and when he can perceive no growth in knowledge, there may be a growth in affection and tenderness. And if the work be carried on in any joint or member, it decayeth in none, though it may be better apprehended in one than another. 5. There may be much holiness, where the believer is complaining of the want of fruits, when under that dispensation of the Lord towards him, he is made to stoop before the Most High, to put his mouth in the dust, if so be there may be hope, and pleasantly to submit to God's wise ordering, without grudging or quarrelling with God for what he doth, and to accept sweetly the punishment of his iniquity, if he see guilt lying at the root of this dispensation. Where there is a silent submission to the sovereign and only wise disposing hand of God, and the man is saying, if he will not have me to be a fruitful tree in his garden, nor to grow and flourish as the palm-tree, let me be a shrub, only let me be kept within the precincts of his garden, that his eye may be upon me for good; let me abide within his courts, that I may behold his countenance, there is grace, and no small measure of grace. To be an hired servant is much, Luke xv. 19. 6. But withal, it would be observed, that this gracious frame of soul, that is silent before God, under several disappointments, is accompanied with much singleness of heart, in panting after more holiness, and with seriousness and diligence in all commanded duties, waiting upon the Lord, who is their hope and their salvation in each of them, and with mourning for their own sinful accession to that shortcoming in their expectations. 7. We would not think that there is no progress in Christianity, or growth in grace, because it cometh not our way, or by the instruments and means that we must expect it by. Possibly we are too fond on some instruments and means that we prefer to others; and we think, if ever we get good, it must be that way, and by that means, be it private or public: and God may give a proof of his sovereignty, and check us for our folly, by taking another way. He would not be found of the bride, neither by her seeking of him secretly on her bed by night; nor more publicly, by going about the city, in the streets and broad ways; nor by the means of the watchmen, Cant. iii. 1, 2, 3. 8. Nor would we think that there is no growth in the work of grace, because it cometh not at such or such prelimited or fore-set time; nor would we think the matter desperate, because of our looking long, and waiting, and asking, and labouring, and yet seeing no sensible advantage. Such and such a believer, saith the soul, made great progress in a short time, but I come no speed, for as long as I have been at this school. O! we should beware of limiting the Holy One of Israel. Let us be at duty, and commit the event to him. 9. It is not a fit time to take the measure of our graces, as to their sensible growth and fruitfulness, when devils are broken loose upon us; temptations are multiplied, corruptions make a great noise, and we are meeting with a horrible tempest shaking us on all hands: for it will be strong grace that will much appear then; it will be strong faith that will say, Though he kill me, yet will I trust in him. At such a time it will be much if the man keep the ground he hath gained, though he make no progress. It will be much for a tree to stand, and not to be blown out of the ground, in the time of a strong and vehement storm, of wind, though it keep not its flourishes and yield not fruit The trees, which in a cold winter day bear neither leaves nor fruit, must not be said to go back, nor not to grow; because when the spring cometh again, they may revive and be as fruitful as ever. 10. We would not always measure our graces by what appeareth outwardly; for there may be some accidental occurrence that may hinder that, and yet grace be at work within doors, which few or none can observe. The believer may be in a sweet and gracious frame, blushing before the Lord, yea, melting in love, or taken up with spiritual meditations and wondering, when as to some external duties, it can find no present disposition, through some accidental impediment or other, so that to some, who judge most by outward appearance, no such things as the active working of grace in life can appear. 11. We would think it no small measure or degree of holiness, to be with singleness of heart pursuing it, even though it should seem to flee from us; to be earnestly panting after it, and hungering and thirsting for it. Nehemiah thought this no small thing, when he said, Neh. i. 11, "O Lord, I beseech thee, let now thine ear be attentive to the prayer of thy servants who desire to fear thy name." 12. Whatever measure of holiness the believer win to, he would take special heed that he place no part of his confidence of his being accepted and justified before God in it, as if that could come in any part of the price to satisfy justice: but when he hath done all, let him call and account himself an unprofitable servant. Though believers will not be so gross as to speak thus, yet sure their justifying of their holding a-back from God, because they find not such a measure of grace and holiness as they would have, looketh too much this way, and saith, that they lean too much hereunto in the matter of the acceptance of their persons before God. Now this should be specially guarded against, lest their labour be in vain. OBJECTIONS ANSWERED. An objection or two must here also be removed. And 1. Some may say, that though they have been labouring, and striving, and working now for some long time, yet they can perceive no advancement; they are as far short as ever. _Ans_. Hath it not been found, that some have complained without cause? Have not some complained of their unfruitfulness and want of growth, that other good Christians would have thought themselves very happy, if they had but advanced half so far as they saw them to have done? But be it so, as it is alleged, what if the fault be their own? What if the cause of this be, that they attempt things in their own strength, leaning to their own understanding, or habits of grace, or means, &c., and that they do not go about duties with that single dependence on Christ that is requisite, nor do they suck life, strength, and sap from him, by faith through the promises, nor give themselves up to him by faith, that he may work in them both to will and to do. Should not this be seen, mourned for, and helped? 3. If all this shortcoming and disappointment cause them lie in the dust, and humble themselves more and more before the Lord, the grace of humiliation is growing, and that is no small advantage, to be growing downward. 4. Withal, they would do well to hold on in duty, looking to Christ for help, and rolling all difficulties on him, give themselves away to him, as their head and Lord, and so continue their life of faith, or their consenting to let Christ live in them by faith, or work in them by his Spirit what is well-pleasing in his sight, and wait for the blessing and fruit in God's own time. _Next_, It will be objected, Though we might wait thus, yet how unedifying are we unto others, when there appeareth no fruit of the spirit of grace in us. _Ans_. A Christian behaviour and deportment under the sense of fruitlessness, expressing an holy submission of soul unto God, as sovereign, much humility of mind before him, justifying of God, and taking guilt to themselves, with a firm resolution, to wait on patiently in the use of means appointed, cannot but be edifying to Christian souls; such exercises being really the works and fruit of the spirit of grace working within. But, _thirdly_, some may say, How then are the promises of the covenant made good? _Ans_. 1. The same measure of sanctification and holiness is not promised to all. 2. No great measure is promised to any absolutely. So much indeed is secured to all believers as shall carry them to heaven, as without which they cannot see God. But much as to the degree depends on our performing through faith the conditions requisite, to wit, on condition of our abiding in the vine, of our acting faith on him, &c.; and when these and the like conditions are not faithfully performed by us, what can we expect? So the Lord hath appointed a way wherein he will be found, and will have us to wait for strength and influence from him; and if we neglect these means which he hath appointed, how can we expect the good which he hath promised in the use of these means? 3. The Lord has his own time of making good all his promises, and we must not limit him to a day. 4. Hereby the Lord may be trying and exercising thy faith, patience, hope, dependence, submission, diligence, &c., and "if these be in thee, and abound, they shall make that thou shalt neither be barren nor unfruitful in the knowledge of our Lord Jesus Christ," 2 Pet. i. 11. But _lastly_, It will be inquired, what can support the believing soul in this case? _Ans_. 1. The consideration and faith of the covenant of redemption, wherein both the Father's engagement of the Son, and the Son's engagement to the Father, secureth grace and holiness, and salvation to the believer. And whatever we be, they will be true to each other,--our unbelief will not make the faith of God of none effect. 2. The consideration of the noble and faithful promises contained in the covenant of grace, which shall all be made good in due time. 3. If we be humbled under the sense of our failings and shortcomings, and made to mourn before the Lord, stirred up to more diligence and seriousness, that may yield comfort to our soul. If we be growing in humility, godly sorrow, repentance, diligence, and be gripping faster by faith to the root, we want not ground of joy and support; for if that be, we cannot want fruit. 4. It should be matter of joy and thanksgiving, that the believer is kept from turning his back on the way of God, and kept with his face still Zion-ward. Though he make but little progress, yet he is still looking forward, and creeping as he may, waiting at God's door, begging and asking, studying, labouring, and endeavouring for strength to go faster. 5. It is no small matter of peace and comfort, if we be kept from fretting, grudging and repining at the Lord's dispensations with us, and be taught to sit silent in the dust, adoring his sovereignty, and ascribing no iniquity to our Maker. CHAPTER VIII. HOW TO MAKE USE OF CHRIST FOR TAKING THE GUILT OF OUR DAILY OUT-BREAKINGS AWAY. The next part of our sanctification is in reference to our daily failings and transgressions, committed partly through the violence of temptations, as we see in David and Peter, and other eminent men of God; partly through daily infirmities, because of our weakness and imperfections; for, "in many things we offend all," James iii. 2; and, "if we say we have no sin, we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us," 1 John i. 8; "a righteous man falleth seven times," Prov. xxiv. 16; "there is not a just man upon earth, that doeth good and sinneth not," Eccl. vii. 20; and Solomon further saith, 1 Kings viii. 46, "That there is no man that sinneth not." This being so, the question is, how Christ is to be made use of, for taking these away. For satisfaction to this, it would be considered, that in those daily out breakings there are two things to be noticed. _First_, There is the guilt which is commonly called _reatus paenae_, whereby the transgressor is liable to the sentence of the law, or to the penalty annexed to the breach thereof, which is no less than God's curse; for "cursed is every one that abideth not in all things, which are in the law to do them," Gal. iii. 10. _Next_, There is the stain or blot, which is called _reatus culpae_, whereby the soul is defiled, and made in so far incapable of glory, (for nothing entereth in there which defileth,) and of communion and fellowship with God, who is of purer eyes than he can behold iniquity. So that it is manifest, how necessary it is that both these be taken away, that they may not stand in our way to the Father. And as to both, we must make use of Christ, who is the only way to the Father. And this we shall now clear. And, _first_, speak of the taking away of the guilt that is contracted by every sin. And for this cause we shall speak briefly to two things. (1.) Shew what Christ hath done as Mediator, for this end, that the guilt contracted by our daily failings and out-breakings, might be taken away. (2.) Shew what the believer should do for the guilt taken away in Christ; or how he should make use of Christ for reconciliation with God after transgressions; or, for the taking away of the guilt that he lieth under, because of his violation of the law. As to the first, we say, Christ, for taking away of guilt contracted daily, hath done these things: 1. Christ laid down his life a ransom for all the sins of the elect; both such as were past before they believed, and such as were to be committed after. His blood was shed for the remission of sins indefinitely, and without distinction, Matt. xxvi. 28. 2. And this was done according to the tenor of the covenant of redemption, wherein the Father "caused all our sins to meet together on him," Isa. liii. 6; and made him sin, or a sacrifice for sin, indefinitely, 2 Cor. v. 21; and so did not except the sins committed after conversion. 3. Having satisfied justice, and being risen from the dead as a conqueror, he is now exalted to "be a prince, to give repentance and remission of sins," Acts v. 31. Now repentance and remission of sins his people have need of, after conversion as well as before conversion. 4. There are promises of pardon and remission of sins in the new covenant of grace, all which are sealed and confirmed in the blood of Jesus, Jer. xxxi. 34, "For I will forgive their iniquity, and I will remember their sin no more." And chap, xxxiii. 8, "And I will cleanse them from all their iniquity, whereby they have sinned against me; and I will pardon all their iniquities whereby they have sinned, and whereby they have transgressed against me." Isa. xliii. 25, "I, even I, am he that blotteth out thy transgressions for mine own sake; and will not remember thy sins." 5. Though there be no actual pardon of sins, till they be committed, and repented of, according to the tenor of the gospel, Matt. iii. 2, Luke xiii. 3. Acts ii. 38; and viii. 22; yet while Christ bare all the sins of his people upon the cross, they were all then virtually and meritoriously taken away; of which Christ's resurrection was a certain pledge and evidence; for then got he his acquitance from all that either law or justice could charge him with, in behalf of them, for whom he laid down his life a ransom. Rom. viii. 33, 34, "Who shall lay anything to the charge of God's elect? It is God that justifieth: Who is he that condemneth? It is Christ that died, or rather that is risen again." 6. So that by virtue of Christ's death, there is a way laid down, in the covenant of grace, how the sins of the elect shall be actually pardoned, viz. that at their conversion and first laying hold on Christ by faith, all the sins, whereof they then stand guilty, shall be actually pardoned and forgiven, in their justification; and all their after-sins shall also be actually pardoned, upon their griping to Christ of new by faith, and turning to God by repentance. And this way is agreed to by Father and Son, and revealed in the gospel, for the instruction and encouragement of believers; and all to the glory of his free grace. "In whom we have redemption, (saith the apostle, Eph. i. 7-9) through his blood, the forgiveness of sins, according to the riches of his grace; wherein he hath abounded toward us in all wisdom and prudence; having made known unto us the mystery of his will, according to his good pleasure, which he hath purposed in himself." 7. Beside Christ's death and resurrection, which give ground of hope, of pardon, of daily out-breakings, there is likewise his intercession useful for this end. For, so saith the apostle, 1 John ii. 1, 2, "If any man sin, we have an advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ the righteous; and he is the propitiation for our sins." This intercession is a special part of his priesthood, who was the great high priest, Heb. iv. 14, 1; and a completing part, Heb. viii. 4, and ix. 8; and upon this account it is, that "He is able to save to the uttermost, all that come to God through him, because he liveth for ever to make intercession for them," Heb. vii. 25. For by his intercession is the work of redemption carried on, the purchased benefits applied, and particularly, new grants of remission are, through his intercession, issued forth: he pleading and interceding, in a way suitable, to his glorified condition, upon his death and propitiation made, while he was upon the cross, accepted of the Father, and declared to be accepted by his resurrection, ascension, and sitting at his Father's right hand. And thus, as believers are reconciled to God by Christ's death, they are saved by his life, Rom. v. 10. So that Christ's living to be an intercessor, makes the salvation sure; and so laying down a ground for taking away of daily out-breakings, which, if not taken away, would hinder and obstruct the believer's salvation. 8. And as for the condition requisite to renewed pardon, viz. faith and repentance, Christ is the worker of both. For he is a prince exalted to give repentance, first and last, Acts iv. 30; and as he is the author of faith, so he is the finisher of it, Heb. xii. 2. As to the _second_ particular, namely, what believers should do for getting the guilt of their daily failings and out-breakings taken away by Christ; or how they should make use of Christ for this end, I shall, for clearing of it, propose those things to consideration: 1. We would beware to think, that all our after actual transgressions are actually pardoned, either when Christ died, or when we first believed in Christ, as some suppose; for sin cannot properly be said to be pardoned before it be committed. David was put to sue out for pardon, after his actual transgression was committed, and not for the mere sense and feeling of the pardon, or the intimation of it to his spirit, when he cried out, Psalm li. 2, "Blot out my transgressions, wash me," &c; and verse 9, "Hide thy face from my sins, and blot out all my iniquities;" and verse 14, "Deliver me from blood-guiltiness." Sure when he spoke thus, he sought some other thing than intimation of pardon to his sense and conscience; for that he desired also, but in far more clear expressions, verse 8, "Make me to hear joy and gladness," &c.; and verse 12, "Restore unto me the joy of thy salvation," &c. Scripture phrases to express remission import this, viz. covering of sin, pardoning of debts, blotting out of sins, hiding of God's face from sin, not remembering of them, casting of them behind his back, casting of them into the sea, removing of sin, Psalm xxxiii. 1, 2. These and the like phrases, though many of them be metaphorical, yet do all of them clearly evince, that sin must first have a being before it can be pardoned. The same is clearly imported by the gospel conditions requisite before pardon; such as acknowledgment of sin, (1 John i. 9) which we see was practised by the worthies of old; David, Psalm xxxii. 51. Nehemiah, chap. ix. Ezra, chap. ix. and Daniel, chap. ix. Confessing and forsaking of it, Prov. xxviii. 13. Sorrowing for it, and repenting of it, and laying hold on Christ by faith, &c. The reason why I propose this, is not only to guard against this Antinomian error, but also to guard the soul from security, to which this doctrine hath a natural tendency. For if a person once think, that all his sins were pardoned, upon his first believing, so that many of them were pardoned before they were committed; he shall never be affected for his after transgressions, nor complain of a body of death, nor account himself miserable upon that account, as Paul did, Rom. vii. 24; nor shall he ever pray for remission, though Christ has taught all to do so, in that pattern of prayer; nor shall he act faith upon the promise of pardon made in the covenant of grace for after transgressions, or for transgressions actually committed, Jer. xxxi. 34, and xxxiii. 8. Heb. viii. 12; and so there shall be no use made of Christ for new pardons, or remissions of new sins. 2. The believer would remember, that among other things, antecedently requisite to remission of posterior actual transgressions, gospel repentance is especially required, (Luke xiii. 3. Matt. iii. 2. Ezek. xviii. 28, 30. Luke xv. 17,18. Hos. ii. 6, 7. Ezek. xiv. 6,) whereby a sinner, through the help of the Spirit, being convinced not only of his hazard by reason of sin, but also of the hatefulness and filthiness of sin; and having a sight of the mercy of God in Christ Jesus to sinners, turning from their sin, doth turn from those sins unto God, with a full purpose of heart, in his strength, to follow him, and obey his laws. And hereby the soul is brought to loathe itself and sin, and is made willing to desire, seek for, accept of, and prize remissions of sins. This makes them more wary and careful in time coming; "For behold," says the apostle, 2 Cor. vii. 11, "this self same thing that ye sorrowed after a godly sort, what carefulness it wrought in you, yea, what clearing of yourselves, yea, what indignation, yea, what fear, yea, what vehement desire, yea, what zeal, yea, what revenge," &c. Thus is God glorified in his justice, Psalm li. 4; and his mercy is acknowledged, in not entering with us into judgment, nor casting us into hell, as he might have done in justice. 3. Yet it would be remembered, that though it hath seemed good in the Lord's eyes to choose this method, and appoint this way of obtaining pardon of sins daily committed, for the glory of his grace and mercy; and likewise for our good, we must not ascribe too much unto repentance, in the matter of pardon. We must not make it a cause of our remission, either efficient or meritorious. We must not think that it hath any hand in appeasing the wrath of God, or in satisfying justice. Pardon must always be an act of God's free grace, unmerited at our hands, and procured alone through the merits of Christ. We must not put repentance in Christ's room and place, nor ascribe any imperfection unto his merits, as if they needed any supply from any act of ours. We must beware of leaning to our repentance and godly sorrow, even so far as to think to commend ourselves to God, thereby that we may obtain pardon. 4. The believer would consider seriously the dreadfulness of their condition who are lying under the lash of the law for sin. The law saith, "Cursed is every one that continueth not in all things written in the law;" and every sin is a transgression of the law. So that, according to law and justice, they are in hazard. For every sin in itself exposeth the sinner to eternal wrath, sin being an offence against God, who is a righteous judge, and a breach of his law. A right sight and apprehension of this, would serve to humble the sinner before God, and make him more earnest in seeking out for pardon, that this obligation to punishment might be removed. 5. The believer would not only consider the sin itself, but also take notice of all its aggravations. There are peculiar aggravations of some sins taken from the time, manner, and other circumstances, which, rightly considered, will help forward the work of humiliation. And the sins of believers have this aggravation above the sins of others, that they are committed against more love, and special love, and against more opposition and contradiction of the grace of God within the soul, against more light and conviction, &c. And therefore their humiliation upon this account ought to be singular and serious. So was it with David, when he took notice of the special aggravation of his sin, Psalm li. 4, 6, 14, and Ezra, chap ix. and Nehemiah, chap. ix. and Daniel chap. ix. This considering of sin, with its due aggravations, would help to prize mercies at a high rate, and cause the soul more willingly wait for and more seriously seek after remission; knowing that God is more angry for great sins, than for sins of infirmity, and may therefore pursue the same with sorer judgments, as he broke David's bones, withdrew his comforts, &c. 6. The believer would be convinced of an impossibility of doing anything in himself which can procure pardon at the hands of God; should he weep, cry, afflict himself, and pray never so, all will do nothing by way of merit, for taking away of the least sin that ever he committed; and the conviction of this would drive him to despair in himself, and be a mean to bring him cleanly off himself, and to look out for mere mercy in Christ Jesus. So long as, through the deceitfulness of Satan, the false heart inclineth to the old bias, and hath its eye upon any thing in itself, from whence it draweth its hopes and expectation of pardon and acceptance, it will not purely act faith on Christ for this end, and so he will lose all his labour, and in the end be disappointed. Therefore the believer would guard against this, and that so much the more, that the false deceitful heart is so much inclined thereto; and that this deceit can sometime work so cunningly, that it can hardly be discerned, being covered over with many false glosses and pretexts; and that it is so dishonourable to Jesus, and hurtful and prejudicial to the soul. 7. The believer would act faith on the promises of pardon in the new covenant, as having a right to them through Jesus Christ, and challenge with humble boldness, the fulfilling of the same, according to that, 1 John i. 9, "If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins." So that the believer may not only take hold of mercy and grace in God, as an encouragement and invitation to go to God for pardon; but even of the justice and righteousness of God, because of his faithful promises; and the believer would have here a special eye to Christ, in whom all the promises are yea and amen; and look for the accomplishment of them through him, and for his sake alone. 8. Faith would eye Christ, as hanging upon the cross, and offering up himself, through the eternal Spirit, a sacrifice to satisfy divine justice, for all the sins of his own chosen ones; we cannot think, that Christ bare but some of their sins, or only their sins committed before conversion; and if he bare all, as the Father laid all upon him, the believer is to lay hold on him by faith, as hanging on the cross, as well for taking away of the guilt of sins committed after conversion, as before; his sacrifice was a sacrifice for all, "and he bare our sins (without distinction or exception,) in his own body on the tree," 1 Pet. ii. 24. David had his eye on this, when he cried out, Psalm li. 7, "Purge me with hyssop;" hyssop being sometimes used in the legal purifications, which typified that purification which Christ really wrought when he gave himself a sacrifice for sin, Levit. xiv. 6. Num. xix. 18. 9. The believer looking on Christ, dying as a Mediator, to pacify the wrath of God, and to make satisfaction to the justice of God, for the sins of his people, would renew his consent unto that gracious and wise contrivance of Heaven, of pardoning sins, through a crucified Mediator, that mercy and justice might kiss each other, and be glorified together; and declare again his full satisfaction with Christ's satisfying of justice for him, and taking away the guilt of his sins, by that blood that was shed upon the cross, by taking those sins, whereof now he standeth guilty, and for which he is desirous of pardon, and by faith nailing them to the cross of Christ, and rolling them on his shoulders, that the guilt of them, as well as of the rest, might be taken away, through the merits of his death and satisfaction. Thus the believer consenteth to the noble act of free grace, whereby the Lord made all our sins to meet together on Christ, when he taketh those particular sins, wherewith now he is troubled, and casteth them in into the heap, that Christ, as the true scape-goat, may carry all away. This is to lay our hands on the head of our sacrifice. 10. The believer hath another ground of comfort to grip to, in this case, and that is, Christ's eternal priesthood, whereby he makes intercession for the transgressions of his people, and as their advocate and attorney with the Father, pleadeth their cause, whereby he is able to save them to the last and uttermost step of their journey, and so to save them from the guilt of all casual and emergent sins, that might hinder their salvation. So that the believer is to put those sins, that now he would have pardoned, into the hands of Christ, the everlasting Intercessor, and all-sufficient Advocate, that he, by virtue of his death, would obtain a new pardon of these their failings and transgressions, and deliverance from the guilt thereof; and their acceptance with the Father, notwithstanding of these transgressions. 11. Thus believers eyeing Christ as dying, rising again, ascending, and as sitting at the Father's right hand, there to be a priest for ever, after the order of Melchisedec, and to intercede for his own, and to see to the application of what benefits, pardons, favours, and other things they need, from all which they have strong ground of comfort and of hope, yea, and assurance of pardon, would acquiesce in this way; and having laid those particular sins, under the burden whereof they now groan, on Christ the Mediator, dying on the cross to make satisfaction, and arising to make application of what was purchased, and having put them in his hand, who is a faithful high priest, and a noble intercessor, would remember, that "Christ is a prince exalted, to give repentance and remission of sins;" and so expect the sentence even from him, as a prince now exalted, and as having obtained that of the Father, even a power to forgive sins, justice being now sufficiently satisfied, through his death; yea, and as having all power in heaven and in earth, as being Lord both of the dead and of the living. Sure a right thought of this would much quiet the soul, in hope of obtaining pardon through him; seeing now the pardon is in his own hand, to give out, who loved them so dearly, that he gave himself to the death for them, and shed his heart blood to satisfy justice for their transgressions. Since he who hath procured their pardon at so dear a rate, and is their attorney to agent their business at the throne of grace, hath now obtained the prayed-for and looked-for pardon, and hath it in his own hand, they will not question but he will give it, and so absolve them from their guilt. 12. The believer, having taken this course with his daily provocations, and laid them all on him, would aquiesce in this way, and not seek after another, that he may obtain pardon. Here he would rest, committing the matter by faith in prayer to Christ, and leaving his guilt and sins on him, expect the pardon, yea, conclude, that they are already pardoned; and that for these sins, he shall never be brought unto condemnation, whatever Satan and a misbelieving heart may say or suggest afterward. Thus should a believer make use of Christ, for the taking away of the guilt of his daily transgressions; and for further clearing of it, I shall add a few cautions. CAUTIONS. 1. However the believer is to be much moved at, and affected with his sins and provocations, which he committeth after God hath visited his soul with salvation, and brought him into a covenant with himself, yet he must not suppose, that his sins after justification do mar his state; as if thereby he were brought into a non-justified state, or to a non-reconciled state. It is true, such sins, especially if gross, whether in themselves, or by reason of circumstances, will darken a man's state, and put him to search and try his condition over again. But yet we dare not say, that they make any alteration in the state of a believer; for once in a justified state always in a justified state. It is true likewise, that as to those sins, which now he hath committed, he cannot be said to be acquitted or justified, till this pardon be got out by faith and repentance, as is said; yet his state remaineth fixed and unchanged; so that though God should seem to deal with such in his dispensations, as with enemies, yet really his affections change not; he never accounteth them real enemies; nay, love lieth at the bottom of all his sharpest dispensations. If they forsake his law, and walk not in his judgments; if they break his statutes and keep not his commandments, he will visit their transgression with the rod, and their iniquity with stripes, nevertheless his loving-kindness will he not utterly take from them, nor suffer his faithfulness to fail; his covenant will he not break, nor alter the thing that has gone out of his lips, Psalm lxxxix. 30-34. And again, though after transgressions may waken challenges for former sins, which have been pardoned and blotted out, and give occasions to Satan to raise a storm in the soul, and put all in confusion, yet really sins once pardoned cannot become again unpardoned sins. The Lord doth not revoke his sentence, nor alter the thing that is gone out of his mouth. It is true likewise, that a believer, by committing of gross sins, may come to miss the effects of God's favour and good will, and the intimations of his love and kindness; and so be made to cry with David, Psalm li. 8, "Make me to hear joy and gladness;" and ver. 12, "Restore unto me the joy of thy salvation," &c. Yet that really holdeth true, that whom he loveth he loveth to the end; and he is a God that changeth not; and his gifts are without repentance. Yea, though grieving of the Spirit may bring souls under sharp throes, and pangs of the spirit of bondage, and the terrors of God, and his sharp errors, the poison whereof may drink up their spirits, and so be far from the actual witnessings of the Spirit of adoption; yet the Spirit will never be again really a spirit of bondage unto fear, nor deny his own work in the soul, or the soul's real right to, or possession of that fundamental privilege of adoption,--I say, that the soul is no more a son, nor within the covenant. 2. The course before mentioned is to be taken with all sins, though, (1.) They be never so heinous and gross. (2.) Though they be accompanied with never such aggravating and crying aggravations. (3.) Though they be sins frequently fallen into; and, (4.) Though they be sins many and heaped together. David's transgression was a heinous sin, and had heinous aggravations, yea, there was an heap and a complication of sins together in that one; yet he followed this course. We find none of these kind of sins excepted in the new covenant; and where the law doth not distinguish, we ought not to distinguish; where God's law doth not expressly exclude us, we should not exclude ourselves. Christ's death is able enough to take away all sin. If through it a believer be justified from all his transgressions committed before conversion, why may not also a believer be, through virtue of it, justified from his gross and multiplied sins committed after conversion? The blood of Christ cleanseth from all sin; Christ hath taught his followers to pray, "Forgive us our sins, as we forgive them that sin against us;" and he hath told us also, that we must forgive our brother seventy times seven, Matth. xiii. _22._ We would not be discouraged then from taking this course, because our sins are such and such; nay, rather, we would look on this, as an argument to press us more unto this way, because the greater our sins be, the greater need have we of pardon, and to say with David, Psalm xxv. 11, "Pardon mine iniquity, for it is great." 3. We would not think, that upon our taking of this course, we shall be instantly freed from challenges, because of those sins, for pardoning whereof we take this course; nor should we think, that because challenges remain, that therefore there is no pardon had, or that this is not the way to pardon; for, as we shall show afterward, pardon is one thing, and intimation of pardon is another thing. We may be pardoned, and yet suppose that we are not pardoned; challenges will abide till the conscience be sprinkled, and till the Prince of Peace command peace to the conscience, and put the accuser to silence; who, when he can do no more, will mar the peace of a believer, as long as he can, and stop the current of his comforts, which made David pray, that "God would restore to him the joy of his salvation," Psalm li. 4. Nor would we think, that upon our taking of this course for the pardon of our sins, we shall never thereafter meet with a challenge upon the account of these sins. It is true, when sins are pardoned, they are fully pardoned in God's court, and that obligation to condemnation is taken away, and the pardoned person is looked upon as no sinner, that is, as no person liable to condemnation because of these sins; for being pardoned he becometh just before God; yet we dare not say, but conscience afterward, being alarmed with new transgressions, may mistake, as people suddenly put into a fight are ready to do; nor dare we say, that God will not permit Satan to upbraid us with those sins, which have been blotted out long ago, as he suffered Shimei, who was but an instrument of Satan, to cast up to David his blood-guiltiness, which had been pardoned long before. The Lord may think good to suffer this, that his people may be kept humble, and made more tender and watchful in all their ways. 5. Believers would not misimprove or abuse this great condescendency of free grace, and take the great liberty to sin, because there is such a sure, safe, and pleasant way of getting those sins blotted out and forgiven. "Shall we sin because we are not under grace, but under the law? That be far from us," saith the Apostle, Rom. vi. 15. This were indeed to turn the grace of God into lasciviousness. And it may be a question, if such as have really repented, and gotten their sins pardoned, will be so ready to make this use of it; sure sense of pardon will work some other effect, as we see, Ezek. xvi. 62, 63. 6. The believer, in going about this work of nailing his sins to the cross of Christ, and of improving Christ's death, resurrection, and constant intercession, for the obtaining of pardon, would not think of going alone, or of doing this in his own strength; for of himself he can do nothing. He must look to Christ for grace to help in this time of need, and must go about this duty with dependence on him, waiting for the influence of light, counsel, strength, and grace from him, to repent and believe; for he is a prince exalted to give repentance, first and last, and he is the author and finisher of faith; so that without him we can do nothing. 7. Let the believer beware of concluding, that be hath got no pardon, because he hath met with no sensible intimation thereof by the flowing in of peace and joy in his soul. Pardon is one mercy, and intimation of it to the soul is another distinct mercy, and separable from it: shall we therefore say, we have not gotten the first, because we have not gotten both? The Lord, for wise reasons, can pardon poor sinners, and not give any intimation thereof; viz. that they may watch more against sin afterward, and not be so bold as they have been; and that they may find more in experience, what a bitter thing it is to sin against God, and learn withal to depend on him for less and more; and to carry more humbly; for it may be, God seeth, that if they saw their sins pardoned, they would forget themselves, and rush into new sins again. 8. The believer must not think it strange, if he find more trouble after greater sins, and a greater difficulty to lay hold on Christ for pardon of those, than for pardon of others. For as God hath been more dishonoured by these, so is his anger more kindled upon that account; and it is suitable for the glory of God's justice, that our sorrow for such sins be proportionally greater; and this will likewise increase the difficulty; and ordinarily the effects of God's fatherly displeasure make deeper wounds in the soul after such sins, and these are not so easily healed; all which will call for suitable and proportionally greater godly sorrow and repentance, and acts of faith, because faith will meet with more opposition and discouragement there, and therefore must be the more strong, to go through these impediments, and to lay hold on his cross. Yet though this should make all watchful, and to guard against gross and crying sins, it should not drive any to despair, nor to say with that despairing wretch, their sin is greater than it can be forgiven; the ocean of mercy can drown and swallow up greater as well as lesser sins; Christ is an all-sufficient Mediator for the greatest sins as well as the least. "O, for thy name's sake, pardon mine iniquity, for it is great!" will come in season to a soul ready to sink with the weight of this millstone tied about its neck. 9. As the greater sins should not make us despair of taking this course for remission, so nor should the smallness of sin make us to neglect this way; for the least sin cannot be pardoned but through Jesus Christ; for the law of God is violated thereby, justice provoked, God's authority vilified, &c. and therefore cannot be now pardoned, by reason of the threatenings annexed to the law, without a ransom. Death is the wages of sin, lesser and greater, and the curse is due to all sin, greater and smaller. There, the believer would not suffer one sin, seen and discovered, to lie unpardoned, but on the first discovery thereof, take it away to Christ, and nail it to the cross. 10. The believer would not conclude, that his sins are not pardoned, because possibly temporal strokes, inflicted because of them, are not removed; for though David's sin was pardoned, yet because of that sin of his, a temporal stroke attended him and his family, to his dying day; for not only did God cut off the child, (2 Sam. xv. 14.), but told him, that the sword should never depart from his house, and that he would raise up evil against him out of his own house, and give his wives to one that should lie with them in the sight of the sun, vers. 10, 11. So we read, that the Lord took vengeance on their inventions whose sins he had pardoned, Psalm xcix. 8. God may see this fit and expedient, for his own glory, and for humbling of them, and causing them to fear the more to sin against him. Yea, not only may temporal calamities be inflicted, because of sin pardoned, or continued, after sin is pardoned, but even sense of God's displeasure may continue after pardon, as appeareth by that penitential Psalm (the fifty-first) penned by David, after Nathan had spoken to him concerning his sin. QUESTIONS OR OBJECTIONS ANSWERED. 1. What course shall we take with secret sins? I answer, this same course must be followed with them. There is an implicit repentance of sins that have not been distinctly seen and observed, as who can see and observe all their failings? And so there may be an implicit faith acting; that is, the believer being persuaded that he is guilty of more sins than he hath got a clear sight of, as he would bewail his condition before God because of these, and sorrow for them after a godly manner, so he would take them together in a heap, or as a closed bagful, and by faith nail them to the cross of Christ, as if they were all distinctly seen and known. "Who can understand his errors," said David, Psalm xix. 12: yet says he moreover, "cleanse thou me from secret faults." 2. But what if, after all this, I find no intimation of pardon to my soul? _Ans._ As this should serve to keep thee humble, so it should excite to more diligence, in this duty of going with thy sins to Christ, and to ply him and his cross more, in and through the promises, and keep thy soul constant in this duty of the running to Christ, as an all-sufficient Mediator, and as an intercessor with the Father; and thus wait on him waiteth to be gracious, even in this particular, of intimating pardon to thy soul,--he knoweth when it is fittest for thee to know that thy sins are forgiven. 3. But what can yield me any ground of peace while it is so, that I see no pardon or remission granted to me? _Ans._ This may yield thee peace, that, following this course which hath been explained, thou art about thy duty. Thou art not at peace with sin, nor harbouring that viper in thy soul; thou art mourning and sorrowing over it, and running to Christ the prince of pardons, through his blood and intercession, conform to the covenant of redemption, and after the encouragement given in the many and precious promises of the covenant of grace; and having these promises, and rolling thy guilt on Christ as thy cautioner, conform to the manner expressed in the gospel, thou art allowed to believe that thy sins are pardoned, and that thou art accepted in the beloved, and so quiet thy soul through faith, God abiding faithful and true, and his promises being all yea and amen in Christ. 4. But so long as I find no intimation of pardon, I cannot think that I have taken the right gospel way of bringing my sins to Christ. _Ans._ Though that will not follow, as we cleared above--for a soul may take the right gospel way of getting the guilt of their sins taken away in Christ, and God may pardon thereupon, and for all that not think it fit to give intimation of that pardon as yet, for wise and holy ends--yet the soul may humble itself for its shortcoming, and still go about the duty, amending in Christ what it supposeth to be amiss, and renewing its act of repentance and faith, and beg of Christ understanding in the matter, and so continue carrying sin always to Christ's cross, and eyeing his intercession, and wait for a full clearing of the matter in his good time. 5. But what shall I do with the guilt of my weak repentance, and weak faith? _Ans._ When with a weak and defective repentance and faith thou art carrying away thy sins to Christ, and nailing them, to his cross, let the imperfection of thy faith and repentance go with the rest, and leave all there. 6. What shall I do with my conscience, that still accuseth me of guilt, notwithstanding of my taking and following this course? _Ans._ Despise not the accusation of conscience, but let these humble thee the more, and keep thee closer at this duty. Yet know, that conscience is but an under servant, and God's deputy, and must accuse according to law, (I speak not here of the irregular, furious, and turbulent motions of Satan, casting in grenades in the soul and conscience, to raise a combustion and put all in a fire); its mouth, must be stopped by law, and so the soul would stay and answer the accusations of conscience with this, that he hath fled to Christ, the only Mediator and Cautioner, and cast his burden on him; and leaneth to his merits alone; and hath put those sins in his hand, as his advocate and intercessor with the Father; and that the gospel requireth no more of him. And if conscience should say, that both faith and repentance are imperfect and defective, and that guilt is thereby rather increased than taken away,--he must answer again, true; but I have done with the guilt of my faith and repentance, as with the rest, taken all to Christ, and left all on him; and herein only do I acquiesce,--I look not for pardon for my imperfect faith and repentance, yea, nor would I look for pardon of my sins, for my faith and repentance, were they never so perfect, but only in and through Jesus Christ, the only Cautioner, Redeemer, and Advocate. But further, this deputy would be brought to his master, who can only command him to silence; that is to say, the believer would go to Christ with the accusing conscience, and desire him to command its silence, that he may have peace of conscience, and freedom from those accusations that are bitter and troublesome. Remember withal, that if these accusations drive thee to Christ, and endear him more to thy soul, they will do no harm, because they drive thee to thy only resting place, and to the grand peacemaker. But if otherwise they discourage or for-slow thee in thy motion Christward, then be sure conscience speaketh without warrant, and its accusations ought not, in so far, and as to that end, to be regarded. CHAPTER IX. HOW TO MAKE USE OF CHRIST FOR CLEANSING OF US FROM OUR DAILY SPOTS. Having spoken of the way of making use of Christ for removing the guilt of our daily transgressions, we come to speak of the way of making use of Christ, for taking away the guilt that cleaveth to the soul, through daily transgressions; "for every sin defileth the man," Matt. xv. 20; and the best are said to have their spots, and to need washing, which presupposeth filthiness and defilement, Eph. v. 27. John xiii. 8-10. Hence we are so oft called to this duty of washing and making us clean. Isa. i. 16. Jer. iv. 14. Acts xxii. 16. David prays for this washing, Psal. li. 2-7. And it is Christ's work to wash. 1 Cor. vi. 11. Rev. i. 5. Eph. v. 26. See Tit. iii. 5. Now, in speaking to this, we shall observe the same method; and first shew, what Christ has done to take away this filth; and next, what way we are to make use of him, for this end, to get our spots and filthiness taken away, that we may be holy. As to the _first_, for the purging away of the filth of our daily failings and transgressions, Christ has done these things: 1. He hath died that he may procure this benefit and advantage to us; and thus he hath washed us meritoriously in his own blood which he shed upon the cross. Thus he "loved us, and washed us from our sins, in his own blood," Rev. i. 5; and this is from all sins, as well such as are committed after, as such as are committed before conversion. Thus, "he by himself purged our sins," Heb. i. 3, viz. by offering up of himself as an expiatory sacrifice to make an atonement, and so procure this liberty. So also it is said, Eph. v. 25-27, that Christ gave himself for his church, "that he might sanctify and cleanse it--that he might present it to himself a glorious church, not having spot or wrinkle, or any such thing, but that it should be holy and without blemish." So, Tit. ii. 14, "He gave himself for us, that he might purify to himself a peculiar people, zealous of good works." Here then is the foundation and ground of all cleansing and purification--Christ's death procuring it. 2. As he hath procured, so he sendeth the Spirit to effectuate this, and to work this washing and sanctification in us. Hence, it is said, 1 Cor. vi. 11, "that we are sanctified and washed, in the name of the Lord Jesus, and by the Spirit of our God." We are said to be saved "by the washing of regeneration, and renewing of the Holy Ghost, which he hath shed upon us abundantly through Jesus Christ our Saviour," Tit. iii. 5, 6. The sending then, or shedding of the holy and sanctifying Spirit upon us, whereby we are sanctified, and consequently purified and purged from our filth, is a fruit of Christ's death and mediation, being purchased thereby, and is an effect of his resurrection, and glorification, and intercession in glory. 3. He hath made a fountain of his blood for this end, that we may go to it daily, and wash and be clean. Thus his "blood cleanseth from all sin," 1 John i. 7-9. This is the "fountain opened to the house of David, and to the inhabitants of Jerusalem for sin and for uncleanness," Zech. xiii. 1. 4. He hath purchased and provided the external means, whereby this cleansing and sanctification is brought about, viz. the preaching of the gospel, which he himself preached, and thereby sanctified, John xv. 3, "Now are ye clean through the word that I have spoken unto you." Eph. v. 26, the church is "sanctified and cleansed with the washing of water, by the word." 5. So hath he procured, and worketh in the soul those graces that promove and carry on this work of sanctification and purifying; such as faith, which purifieth the heart, Acts xv. 9; whereof he is the author and finisher, Heb. xii.; and hope, which whosoever hath, "purifieth himself, even as he is pure," 1 John iii. 3. 6. He hath confirmed and ratified all the promises of the covenant, which are ample and large, touching this cleansing and washing, Jer. xxxv. 8, "And I will cleanse them from all their iniquity, whereby they have sinned against me." Ezek. xxxvi. 25, "Then will I sprinkle clean water upon you, and ye shall be clean from all your filthiness." So Ezek. xxxvii. 23, "and I will cleanse them." And all the other promises of the covenant, apprehended by faith, have no small influence on our cleansing; 2 Cor. vii. 1. "Having therefore these promises, let us cleanse ourselves," &c.; all which promises are yea and amen in Christ, 2 Cor. i. 20. Thus Christ made all sure, for the cleansing and washing of his people, conform to that article of the covenant of redemption, "so shall he sprinkle many nations," Isa. lii. 15. _Secondly,_ As to the way of our use-making of Christ for the purging away of our filth and daily pollutions, believers would take this course: 1. They would remember and live in the conviction of the exceeding abominableness and filthiness of sin, which is compared to the vomit of a dog, and to the mire wherein the sow walloweth, 2 Pet. ii. 22; filthy rags, Isa. lxiv. 6; to a menstruous cloth, Isa. xxx. 22, and the like, that this may move them to seek with greater care and diligence, to have that filth taken away. 2. They would remember also how abominable sin makes them in the eyes of an holy God, "who cannot behold iniquity," being a God of purer eyes than to behold it, Hab. i. 13; nor can he look on it; and how therefore no thing can enter into the New Jerusalem, nor any thing that defileth. And this will make them so much the more to abhor it, and to seek to be washed from it. 3. They would look by faith on the blood of Christ that is shed for this end, to wash filthy souls into; and run to it as a fountain opened for this end, that they might come to it, and wash and be clean. 4. For their encouragement, they would grip by faith to the promises of the new covenant, which are large and full. 5. And remember the end of Christ's death, viz., to purchase to himself a holy people, zealous of good works, to present them to himself holy, and without spot or wrinkle, or any such thing; and this will be further ground of encouragement. 6. They would put the work by faith in his hand, who hath best skill to wash a foul soul, and to purge away all their spots; and by faith pray for and expect the Spirit to sanctify and cleanse them from all their filthiness; that is, they would make known and spread forth their abominations before the Lord, and eyeing Christ as the only great High Priest, whose blood is a fountain to wash in, would lay the work on him, and by faith put him to wash away that filth, and to purify their souls by his Spirit, pardoning their bygone iniquities and renewing them in the Spirit of their minds by grace, that they may walk before him in fear. Thus they would roll the work on him, and leave it there. CAUTIONS AND DIRECTIONS. _First,_ The believer would in all this work be kept in the exercise of these graces following: 1. Of humility; seeing what a vile, filthy wretch he is, that stands in need of washing and purging daily, because of his daily pollutions and transgressions. 2. Of love; considering with what a loving God he hath to do, that hath provided so liberally all things for him, and particularly hath provided a fountain, and such a fountain, whereto he not only may, but is commanded to resort daily. 3. Of thankfulness; remembering how great this mercy is, how unworthy he is, on whom it is bestowed, and who he is that doth grant it. 4. Of fear; lest God's goodness be abused, and he provoked who is so gracious to us. 5. Of sincerity, and godly ingenuity, avoiding all hypocrisy and formality, knowing that we have to do with him, who will not be mocked. 6. Of holy hatred; loathing and abhorrence of sin, which makes us so filthy and odious in the eyes of the Lord. _Secondly,_ This course would be followed for the purging away of the least sins; for till they be purged away, we remain in our filth, and cannot expect God's favourable countenance, nor his warm embracements, nor the hearty intimations of his love and kindness. And a small inconsiderable like spot may grow greater, and provoke God to let the accuser of the brethren, Satan, who always waits for his opportunity, loose upon us, and a conscience wakened may make much of a little defilement to keep the soul from approaching to God. 3. This course would be followed with every sin, quickly without delay; for the longer those spots continue, it will be the more difficult to get them taken away. The soul will after some time, become the less troubled about them, and possibly forget them, and so they will remain; and this may occasion at last a sad distance, and provoke God to hide his face, which will cause more bitterness and sorrow. It were good, then, to keep up a spirit of tenderness and fear. 4. Let this be our daily work and exercise; for we are daily contracting new filth. Yesterday's cleansing will not save us from new filth to-day; nor will our running to the fountain to-day, serve to take away new spots to-morrow; new spots call for new washing, so that this must be our very life and exercise, to be daily and continually running to the fountain with our souls; and giving Christ, the great purger, much to do. 5. We must not think to be perfectly washed, so long as we are here; for we will be contracting new filth daily, our feet will still be to wash, John xiii. 10. We will not be without spot or wrinkle, till we come home to that place, wherein entereth nothing that defileth. 6. Let the believer's recourse in this matter be wholly to Jesus Christ and his blood, and lay no weight on their sorrow, repentance, or tears, or on any outward means which they are commanded to use; yet would they not lay aside these means, but go through them to the fountain, to Jesus, there, and there only to be cleansed. 7. They should not be discouraged or despair when their spots appear great, and not like the spots of his children; for Christ's blood can purge from all sin, and wash away all their filth, of how deep soever a dye it be. Christ's blood is so deep an ocean, that a mountain will be sunk out of sight in it, as well as a small pebble stone. 8. Though Christ's blood be strong enough to purge from all sin, even the greatest, yet they should know, that scandalous spots, or a deep stain, may cost them more frequent running to the fountain, through humiliation, godly sorrow, prayer, and supplication. David's scandalous blot cost him more trouble and pains, before he got it purged away, than many others, as we see, Psalm li. 9. When all this is done, we must think of having on another righteousness, as our clothing and covering, in the day of our appearance before our Judge--even the righteousness of Jesus Christ, which only is perfect, and able to save us from the wrath of God. Let us be never so washed in the matter of sanctification, and cleansed from our spots, we cannot for all that be accounted righteous before God; nor will that satisfy justice, or take away the guilt so much as of one transgression before God. Christ's righteousness will be our upper garment for all eternity. This is the fine linen wherewith his bride is busked in heaven. 10. At every time we run to the fountain with our daily contracted filth, we would not forget to carry along with us the mother corruption, which is the sink and puddle of all filthiness; I mean our natural corrupted rottenness and pollution, from whence flow all our other actual pollutions. We would do well to carry mother and daughter both together to the fountain. David prayed to be washed and purged, as well from his original filthiness, wherein he was conceived and born, as from his blood-guiltiness. Psalm li. 5, 7. 11. Let not this occasion our carelessness in watching against sin; for that would be, to turn his grace into wantonness; but rather let it sharpen our diligence in watching against all occasions of sin, lest we again defile our soul. 12. Not only must we have our bodies, or our outward conversation washed, but our soul within, the frame of our heart, our understanding, will, affections, and conscience, sprinkled with that blood. The blood of Christ, who through the eternal Spirit "offered himself without spot to God," must purge our Consciences from dead works, to serve the living God, Heb. ix. 14. and we must "have our hearts, sprinkled from an evil conscience," Heb. x. 22. _Finally,_ If the believer fear that he shall not be able to remember all these particular duties, let him remember this, viz. to put a foul soul, defiled with original and actual pollutions, in Christ's hand daily, and leave it to him to wash by his blood and Spirit; and yet remember to lay the weight of his acceptance before God, upon the imputed righteousness of Jesus Christ, and not upon his own cleanness, when thus sanctified and washen, which is but imperfect. QUESTIONS OR OBJECTIONS ANSWERED. But, alas! some may object, and say, that their very faith, which must carry the rest of their filth to the fountain of Christ's blood, is defiled. How, then, can they expect to be made clean? _Answer._ The blood of Jesus Christ is sufficiently able to wash all our filth away; and the filth of faith, as well as of other actions. Therefore, when faith, as a hand, is carrying the filth of the soul away to Christ to be washed in his blood, let the foul hand go with the foul handful; give Christ faith and all to wash. 2. But what shall I do, when, notwithstanding of all this, my conscience shall still accuse me of uncleanness, and cry out against me as filthy and abominable? _Answer._ Take it away also to the blood of Jesus, that there it may be purged, Heb. ix. 14; and here alone will we "get our hearts sprinkled from an evil conscience," Heb. x. 22. The conscience must be steeped, so to speak, in the blood of Jesus, and so it shall be clean. And taking our filthy hearts to this cleansing fountain to be washed, we will get them delivered and sprinkled from an evil conscience, that it shall no more have ground of accusation against us. When we have it to say, that we have put our filthy souls in the hand of the great cleanser, Jesus Christ, and brought all our pollutions to his blood, what can conscience say to us? The Lord, it is true, may suffer our conscience still to bark upon us, and cast up our filthiness to us, that we may be the more humbled, and be put to lie more constantly at the fountain; yet when we have fled to Christ, and taken our filthiness to the open and appointed fountain, we can answer the accusations of conscience in law, and have peace. 3. But I am apt to think, will some say, that if I had once taken the right way to get my sins and filthiness purged away, my conscience would trouble me no more; but now, so long as it doggeth me thus, I cannot think that the way which I have taken is the right way. _Answer._ Though the Lord may think good to suffer conscience to trouble a man for a time, though he hath taken the right way, as is said, for a further exercise and trial to him; yet the believer will have no less disadvantage by examining his way, and trying whether he hath laid the matter cleanly over on Christ, or whether he hath laid too much weight on his own humiliation, sorrow, and pains; and whether he be leaving the matter on Jesus, and expecting to be washed alone in his blood, or looking into himself, and expecting some help in the matter from self; and after trial, would mourn for any failing he gets discovered, and still be about that work of running with filth to the fountain. But withal they would go to Christ for help, because without him they cannot come to him; they cannot come or carry their soul to the fountain opened for sin and for uncleanness; so that in all this work, there would be a single dependence on Christ for understanding and strength to go about this work aright. Thus have we endeavoured to clear up Christ being the way to the Father, first and last; and how all believers or unbelievers are to make use of him as the way to the Father, whatever their condition be: from all which we may see, 1. That such are in a wretched and forlorn condition who are still strangers to Christ, and will not lay hold on him, nor come to him, and walk in him, and make use of him. They are unrighteous and unholy, and daily contracting more guilt and more filth; and they know no way either for justification or sanctification, but a way of self, which will prove like the brooks, which run dry in summer, and disappoint the weary traveller when he hath most need. They are without Christ, and so without the way, the only way, the safe and sure way to the Father. And, oh! if all that is here spoken could induce them to think once of the misery of their condition, and to seek out for relief, that they might not only be saved from their state of sin and misery, but brought into a state of salvation through Jesus Christ, so that they might be justified before God, from all that justice, the devil, the law, or conscience could lay against them, and thoroughly sanctified, and so at length brought home to the Father, fair and spotless. 2. Upon the other hand, we see the noble advantage of believers, who, through grace, are entered in this way; for it is a full and complete way that shall carry them safe home. They shall find that he is able to save to the uttermost all that come to God through him. And, oh! if they were sensible of this, how would it excite them to thankfulness! How would it encourage them to run through difficulties great and many! 3. We see what a special duty lieth upon believers to make special use of Christ in all things, as the way to the Father, and so march to heaven in him, as the only way; march in his hands, or rather be carried in his arms and bosom. This were to go from strength to strength, till at length they appeared in Zion, and landed in that pleasant place of rest, where the weary are at rest, and yet rest not day nor night, but sing praises to "him that hath redeemed them by his blood, out of every kindred and tongue, and people and nation, saying, blessing, honour, glory, and power, be unto him that sitteth upon the throne, and unto the Lamb for ever and ever," Rev. v. 9, 13. 4. Hence we may see the cause of the leanness of believers, of their wanderings, of their shortcomings, of their many defilements, &c. viz. their not constant making use of Christ as the way in all things, according to the tenor of the gospel. Oh I if this were laid to heart and mourned for, and if grace were sought to help it! This one point of truth, that Christ is the way, well understood and rightly put into practice, would do all our business, both as to justification and sanctification, and were poor sinners once entered into this way, and had they grace from this way to walk in it, it would prove their life and salvation: For it is the marrow and substance of the whole gospel. So that there needeth little more to be said: Yet we shall speak a little to the other particulars in the text. CHAPTER X. "THE TRUTH." SOME GENERALS PROPOSED. That what we are to speak to for the clearing and improving this noble piece of truth, that Christ is the Truth, may be the more clearly understood and edifying, we shall first take notice of some generals, and then show particularly how or in what respects Christ is called the Truth; and finally speak to some cases wherein we are to make use of Christ as the Truth. As to the first. There are four general things here to be noticed. 1. This supposeth what our case by nature is, and what we are all without Christ, who is the Truth: as, _First._ It supposeth that without Christ we are in darkness, mistakes, errors: yea, we are said to be darkness itself. Eph. v. 8, "Ye were sometimes darkness," &c. John i. 5, and of darkness; 1 Thess. v. 5, yea, under the "power of darkness;" Col. i. 13. John xii. 35. 1 John ii. 11, "walking in darkness;" 1 John i. 6, and "abiding in darkness." 1 Pet. ii. 9. 1 Thess. v. 4. John xii. 46, "We wander and go astray as soon as we are born, speaking lies," Psal. lviii. 3. Yea, we "go astray in the greatness of our folly," Prov. v. 22. We are "all gone astray," Isa. liii. 6. Psal. cxix. 67-176; so far are we from any knowledge of, or acquaintance with truth, or with the way of truth. _Secondly._ It supposeth that we cannot turn into the right way. A spirit of error and untruth leadeth us continually wrong; like the sheep we wander still, and we weary ourselves in our wandering; and so spend all our labour and pains in vain. Being under the power of untruth and error, we cannot walk one step right. _Thirdly._ Though all other ways, beside him who only is the way and the truth, be false ways and by-ways, leading us away from the true resting-place, and from that way which is the truth; yet we are prone and ready to cleave to those false and erroneous ways, and grip to shadows, and to lean to them, as if they were the ways of truth: Such as, 1. A good heart, which many may imagine they have, when they have nothing less. 2. Good intentions and purposes for time to come, which such, as were not under the power of error and untruth, would never deceive themselves withal. 3. An harmless life, without scandalous out-breakings to the reproach of Christianity, a foundation on which no wise man, led by truth, would build his salvation, or hopes of eternal happiness. 4. An outward, moral, civil and discreet carriage, which no man can blame, and wherein a heathen can outstrip many called Christians; so that it must be a poor ground to found our hopes upon; and yet many are so blinded, that they lean all their weight upon such a rotten staff. 5. Outward exercise of religious duties, wherein a Pharisee may outstrip many; and yet, O how many build all their hopes of heaven upon this sandy foundation, which none but blinded persons would do! 6. The commendation and applause of ministers and Christians, is that which many rest upon, which is a sad proof of the blindness of their hearts. 7. The way of good works and alms-deeds blindfoldeth many, and sheweth that they were never led by truth, or taught of Christ, who is the truth. 8. Some pinching grief and sorrow for sin, is another way which people, strangers to the truth, deceive themselves withal. 9. A common sort of repentance, backed with some kind of amendment and outward reformation, is a way that many rest secure in, though it lead to destruction. 10. Freedom from challenges of conscience deceiveth many. Though these and such like ways be dangerous, yea, deadly, yet how many are there to be found among Christians, that have no better ground of their hope of salvation, and will cleave to them so fast, as no preaching will make them so much as once question the matter, or suspect that these ways will in the end deceive them; so strong is their inclination to the way of error, though not as the way of error. _Fourthly._ It presupposeth also an inclinableness in us by nature to wander out of the way; for being nothing but a mass of error, made up of darkness, ignorance, and mistakes, we have a strong bias to error, which agreeth best with our natural, corrupted temper. Hence it is, that we have such a strong propension to errors and mistakes: Whether, 1. Concerning God, and his way of dealing with his church, or with ourselves. O how ready are our hearts by nature, to hatch and foment wrong, unseemly, untrue, yea, unchristian, if not blasphemous thoughts and conceptions of his nature, attributes, word, and works? And how ready and prone are we to receive and entertain wrong apprehensions of all his ways and dealings with his church and people? And as for his works in and about ourselves, O! what unsuitable, erroneous, false, ungodly, absurd, and abominable opinions do we with greediness drink in and foster; yea, feed upon with delight? Who is able to recount all the errors and mistakes which our heart by nature is ready to admit and foster with complacency? Are we not by nature ready to say, that there is not a God,--as the fool, Psal. xiv. 1. Or, that he is not such a God as his word and works declare him to be--a holy, just, righteous, omnipotent, omnipresent, omniscient God, &c. Or that he is a changeable God, and actually changed, not being the same now which sometime he was. That he hath forgotten to be gracious, and remembereth not his people in adversity; and so is not tender and merciful. That he hath forgotten his promises, and so is not faithful and true. That he approveth of sin, because he suffereth the way of the wicked to prosper, and so is not a holy God, &c. Yea, do not ofttimes such thoughts as these lodge within the heart of the truly godly? All which sheweth how prone we are to receive and entertain erroneous and false thoughts of God. 2. Concerning ourselves. Supposing ourselves to be born again and reconciled to God, when yet we are living in black nature: And who so bold and confident that they are right, as they that are furthest out of the way? Or, on the other hand, supposing ourselves to be in a bad state, and in nature and darkness, when the day-star from on high hath visited us, and brought our souls from death unto life. And who more ready to complain than such as have least cause? Or supposing ourselves in a good condition; lively, active, diligent, watchful, &c, when it is just otherwise with us: Or, on the contrary, complaining of deadness, formality, upsitting, fainting, heartlessness in the ways of God, when it is not so. Or, in questioned matters, taking truth to be error, and error to be truth. 3. Concerning others. How ready are we to run either to the one extremity or the other in judging their persons and actions? Oh! where is the faith of this natural condition? where is the real conviction of it? Sure there is but little real believing of this when, (1.) There are so many that never so much as suspect themselves or question either their state or condition, at one time or other; never once imagine that their blinded hearts may deceive them; never once dream of a possibility of mistaking, and of dying with a lie in their right hand. (2.) And so many that are not lamenting and bewailing this their condition, nor crying out and complaining of a false, deceitful, and desperately wicked heart. (3.) And so few that are indeed humbled under the sense of this, and made therefore to walk more watchfully and soberly with an eye always upon their treacherous and deceiving hearts. (4.) And so few, crying for help from God against this deceitful adversary, through daily experience of the atheism, hypocrisy, ignorance, misconceptions of God and of his ways, and deceitfulness of our hearts, might sufficiently put it out of doubt with us. _Next,_ How miserable must their condition be, who are yet strangers to Christ; for they are living in darkness, lying in darkness, walking in darkness, yea, very darkness itself, a mass of error, mistakes, ignorance, and misconceptions of all things that are good; and still wandering out of the way. _Finally,_ Should not this preach out to, and convince us all of a necessity of having more acquaintance with truth, with Jesus Christ, who is the truth, that we may be delivered from this woful and wretched condition; for truth only can set us free therefrom. II. The _second_ general thing to be noticed here is, that all other ways and courses, which we can take or follow, that we may obtain life, beside Christ, are but lies, false and deceitful ways,--there is no truth in them: For he only is the truth; no other whatsoever can bear this epithet: For, 1. He only can satisfy the soul in all points otherways; whatever we can imagine and dream can yield no true satisfaction in this matter. 2. He only can secure the soul from destructive ruinous courses, which will undo the soul. All other ways will fail here; none of them can give the least security to the soul, that they shall not bring him, in end, to destruction and everlasting perdition. 3. He only can bring the soul safe through all opposition and difficulties in the way. No other way can do this; but will leave us in the mire, ere ever we come to the end of our journey. 4. He will not deceive nor disappoint the soul. All other ways in end will prove treacherous, and give the traveller a doleful and sad disappointment. O what a warning should this be to us all, to take heed that we embrace not a lie, instead of him who is the truth; and sit not down with a shadow instead of the substance. How ready are we to put other things in his place? But whatever it be that gets his room in the soul, though good and worthy in itself, will prove a lie. Even, (1.) All our outward holiness and duties. Yea, (2.) All our experiences and great attainments. Yea, (3.) All our gifts and endowments. Aye, (4.) Our very graces. None of these are Christ's; and if we place that hope and confidence in them, which we should place on him, they will not prove the truth to us,--he alone is the truth. How sure then should we labour to be, that we do not die with a lie in our right hand. And how carefully should we guard against the trusting in, or leaning to any thing that is not Christ, and whole Christ, and only Christ, and Christ as offered in the gospel; seeing this way is only the truth, and no other way will be found so in end, though at present we may find in it, (1.) Some inward peace and quietness of heart, as if all were right. (2.) Some satisfaction of mind, things being right, as we apprehend, but falsely, through the deceitfulness of the heart. (3.) Something like assurance and confidence, that all will be right with us. (4.) And hope founded thereupon, which may help to ride through some storms, and yet fail us at length. III. The _third_ general is this, Christ Jesus is not only the truth in himself, but also in reference to us. The scope of the place cleareth this, as he is the way and the life for our use, so he is the truth. Not only as God equal with the Father, but also as Mediator, and our Immanuel. As God, he is, 1. Essentially truth, being God equal with the Father in power and glory. 2. In respect of veracity, he is the God of truth, Deut. xxxii. 4; faithful in all his sayings, Ps. xxxi. 5; keeping truth for ever, Ps. cxlvi. 6. 3. He is the fountain and spring-head of all created truth, for he is the first truth. As Mediator, and in reference to us, "he is full of grace and truth," John i. 14; "he received not the Spirit in measure," John iii. 34; and this Spirit is a Spirit of truth. But of this more, when we come to shew more particularly, how and in what respects he is called the truth, as Mediator. IV. The _fourth_ general, which is here observable, is, that he is not only called "Truth," but "the Truth," as he is the way and the life; and not only true, but truth in the abstract. Which saith, 1. That he is every way Truth, however we consider him, as God, or as Mediator. 2. That all truth is in him; all truth of salvation for us is to be found in him. 3. That all that is in him is truth, his natures, offices, performances, words, works, &c, all are true. 4. That he is pure and unmixed truth; no lie in him, no error or mistake there. 5. That truth in him is in its perfection and excellency. In the truest of men it is very imperfect. O what an excellent one must he be! How completely fitted and furnished for us! Oh! if our souls could love him, and close with him, and rest upon him as all-sufficient! CHAPTER XI. MORE PARTICULARLY, IN WHAT RESPECT CHRIST IS CALLED THE TRUTH. But for further explaining of this matter, we would see more particularly, in what respects it is, that he is called the truth; and this will make way to our use-making of him. So, _First,_ He is the Truth, in opposition to the shadows and types of him, under the law. Hence, as "the law," the whole Levitical and typical dispensation, "came by Moses, so grace and truth came by Jesus Christ," John i. 17. They were all shadows of him, and he is the substance and body of them all, Col. ii. 17; and this is true in these respects: 1. All these shadows and types pointed at him, and directed, as with a finger, the Israelites, who were under that dispensation, to look to Christ, the promised Messiah, and to rest, and to lay all their weight on him. So that the law was a shadow of good things to come, Heb. x. 1. Col. ii. 17. 2. They all terminate in him, he putting an end, by his coming and performing his work, to all those types which only related to him, and to what he was to do; the body being come, there is no more need of the shadow and the thing typified existing, there is no more need or use of the type. 3. They are all fulfilled in him; he answereth them all fully, so that whatever was shadowed forth by them is completely to be found in him. This the apostle, in his Epistle to the Hebrews, abundantly evinceth. And Paul to the Colossians, tells us, "we are complete in him," and therefore need no more follow the shadows. _Secondly,_ He is the Truth in reference to the prophecies of old; all which did principally point at him and his concernments, his person, nature, offices, work, kingdom, &c.; and whatever was foretold in these prophecies is perfectly fulfilled in him, or done by him, or shall in due time be effectuated by him. He is that great prophet spoken of, Deut xviii. 15, 18, 19. So said the Jews themselves, John vi. 14. All the prophets from Samuel spoke of him and of his days, Acts iii. 22-24. "And to him gave all the prophets witness," Acts x. 43. And whatever they prophesied or witnessed of him, was, or is in due time to be fulfilled in him. Hence, we find the evangelists and apostles frequently applying the sayings and prophecies of the Old Testament unto him. And Luke (chap. iv. 18,) himself said the prophecy of Isaiah lxi. 1, &c., was fulfilled in him. See 1 Pet. x. 11, 12. And himself expounded to the two disciples going to Emmaus, in all the Scriptures, beginning at Moses and all the prophets, all the things concerning himself, Luke xxiv. 27. And thus is he the Truth of all the prophecies. _Thirdly,_ He is the Truth, in reference to his undertaking with the Father in that glorious covenant of redemption; for whatever the Father laid on him to do, that he did fully and faithfully. "He was to bear our griefs, to carry our sorrows;" and that he did. "He was to be wounded for our transgressions, and bruised for our iniquities; the chastisement of our peace was upon him, and by his stripes we were to be healed," Isa. liii. 5; and so it was, Rom. iv. 25. 1 Cor. xv. 3. 1 Pet. ii. 23. "His soul was to be made an offering for sin," Isa. liii. 10, and so it was; for he offered up himself a sacrifice for sin. Yea, all that he was to do, by virtue of that covenant, he did it perfectly, so as he cried out, while hanging on the cross, "It is finished," John xix. 30; and, in his prayer, John xvii., he told his Father, verse 4, that he had glorified him on earth, and had finished the work which he gave him to do; so that the Father was well pleased with him, Matt. iii. 17; xii. 18; and xvii. 5. Mark i. 11. Luke iii. 22. _Fourthly,_ He is the Truth, in respect of his offices which he took upon him for our good; for all the duties of these offices which he was to do, and what remaineth to be done, he will perfect in due time. Did he take upon him the office of a prophet? He did fully execute the same, in revealing mediately and immediately the whole counsel of God, John i. 18; and xv. 15. Eph. iv. 11, 12, 13. Acts xx. 32. 1 Pet. 10, 11, 12. Heb. i. 2. Did he take upon him the office of a priest? So did he fulfil the same, offering up himself an expiatory sacrifice to God, Heb. ix. 28; and ii. 17; and becoming a priest, and living for ever to make intercession for us, Heb. vii. 25. And did he take on the office and function of a King? So doth he execute the same, calling a people to himself out of the world by his word and Spirit--Acts xv. 14, 15, 16. Isa. lv. 4, 5. Psalm cx. 3--erecting a visible church, a company of visible professors to profess and declare his name; which, as his kingdom, he ruleth with his own officers, laws and penalties, or censures; so that the government is on his shoulders, Isaiah ix. 6, 7, who is the head of the body, the church, Eph. i. 22, 23. Col. i. 18; and this his kingdom he ruleth, in a visible manner, by his own officers, &c. Ephes. iv. 11, 12. 1 Cor. xii. 28. Isaiah xxxiii. 22. Matt. xviii. 17, 18. 1 Cor. v. 4, 5; and further, he executes this office by effectually calling the elect, giving them grace, Acts v. 3; rewarding the obedient, Rev. xxii. 12; ii. 10; chastising the disobedient, Rev. iii. 19; bringing his own home at length, through all their temptations, afflictions, and overcoming all their enemies, 1 Cor. xv. 25. Psalm cx.; and at length he shall do the part of a king, when he shall judge quick and dead at the last day, 2 Thess. i. 8, 9. Acts xvii. 31. 2 Tim. iv. 1. _Fifthly,_ He is the Truth in this regard, that he fully answers all the titles and names which he had got. As he was called Jesus, so did he save his people from their sins, Matt. i. 21. As he was called Christ, so was he anointed with the Spirit without measure, John iii. 34. Psalm xlv. 7; and separated for his work, and endued with all power for that effect, Job vi. 27. Matt. xxviii. 18, 19, 20; and established to be a prophet, Acts iii. 21, 22. Luke iv. 18, 21; a priest, Heb. v. 5, 6, 7; iv. 14, 15; and a king, Psalm ii. 6. Isaiah ix. 6, 7. Matt. xxi. 5. Phil. ii. 8-11. Was he called "Immanuel," Isaiah vii. 14? So was he indeed God with us, being God and man in one person for ever. Was he called "Wonderful," Isaiah ix. 6? So was he indeed in his two distinct natures in one person; at which the angels may wonder, Eph. iii. 10, 11. 1 Pet. i. 12. 1 Tim. iii. 16. Was he called "Counsellor?" So was he indeed, coming out from the Father's bosom, with the whole counsel of God concerning our salvation, John i. 14, 18; iii. 13; v. 20, and xv. 15. Was he called the "mighty God?" So was he indeed, Psalm cx. 1. Matt. xxii. 44. Heb. i. 13. Psalm xlv. 6. Heb. i. 8. Jer. xxiii. 6, and xxxiii. 16. Mal. iii. 1. Matt. xi. 10. Psalm lxxxiii. 18. Luke i. 76. John i. 1; xiv. 1. John v. 20. Tit. ii. 13. Rom. ix. 5. Was he called the "everlasting Father?" So is he the Father of eternity, being (as some interpret the word) the author of eternal life, which he giveth to all that believe in him, John vi. 39, 40, 47, 51; viii. 51; x. 28; xi. 25, 26. Heb. v. 9, and vii. 25. Was he called the "Prince of Peace?" So is he the Prince of Peace indeed, being our peace, Mic. v. 5. Eph. ii. 14; making up peace between God and us, Isaiah liii. 5, and liii. 19. Eph. ii. 17. Col. i. 20. Hence his gospel is the gospel of peace, and his ministers ambassadors of peace, Isaiah lii. 7. Rom. x. 15. 2 Cor. v. 19, 20. Eph. vi. 15. And he giveth peace to all his, Zech. ix. 10. John xiv. 27; xvii. 33. Rom. v. 1; viii. 16, and xiv. 17. 2 Thes. iii. 17. Was he called the "Lord our Righteousness?" Jer. xxiii. 6; so is he the same indeed, bringing in everlasting righteousness, Dan. ix. 24; and "being made of God to us righteousness," 1 Cor. i. 30; and making us righteous, 2 Cor. v. 21. _Sixthly,_ He is the Truth in reference to the promises, which, 1. Centre all in him, and lead to him as the great promise. 2. Are founded all upon him, who is the only Mediator of the covenant of promises. 3. Are confirmed all by him, and made yea and amen in him, 2 Cor. i. 20. He confirmed the promises made to the fathers, Rev. xv. 8. 4. Are all dispensed and given out by him, who is the executor of his own testament, and the great dispensator of all that we need; so that what we ask of the Father he giveth it himself, John xiv. 13, 14. _Seventhly,_ He is the Truth, in that he fully answereth all the hopes and expectations of his people. He shall not be found a liar unto them, whatever Satan may suggest unto them, or a misbelieving heart may prompt them to conceive, and their jealousy may make them apprehend; and whatever his dispensations may now seem to say. In end they shall all find, that he is the truth, fully satisfying all their desires; and granting all that ever they could hope for, or expect from him. They shall at length be satisfied with his likeness, Psalm xvii. 15; yea, abundantly satisfied with the fatness of his house, Psalm xxxvi. 8; and with his goodness, Psalm lxv. 4; and that as with marrow and fatness, Psalm lxiii. 5. One sight of his glory will fully satisfy, and cause them to cry out, enough! Jeremiah is now saying, as once he did in the bitterness of his soul, through the power of corruption and temptation, (chap. xv. 18.) "wilt thou be altogether unto me as a liar, and as waters that fail?" _Eighthly,_ He is the Truth, in opposition to all other ways of salvation: for, 1. There is no salvation now by the law of works, that covenant being once broken cannot any more save; the law cannot now do it, in that it is weak through the flesh, Rom. viii. 3. 2. There is no salvation now by the law of Moses without Christ: hence Israel, which followed after the law of righteousness, did not attain to the law of righteousness, because they sought it not by faith, but as it were by the works of the law, Rom. ix. 31, 32. They went about to establish their own righteousness, and did not submit themselves unto the righteousness of God, Rom. x. 3. 3. There is no salvation by any thing mixed in with Christ, as the apostle fully cleareth in his epistle to the Galatians. 4. There is no salvation by any other way or medium, which mart can invent or fall upon, whereof there are not a few, as we shewed above: "for there is not another name given under heaven, by which we can be saved," but the name of Jesus, Acts iv. 12. No religion Will save but this. So that he is the true salvation, and he only is the true salvation; and he is the sure and safe salvation: such as make use of him shall not be mistaken nor disappointed, Isaiah xxxv. 8. _Ninthly,_ He is the Truth, in respect of his leading and guiding his people in the truth: hence he is called "a teacher from God," John iii. 2; and one that "teacheth the way of God in truth," Matt. xxii. 16. "A prophet mighty in deed and word," Luke xxiv. 19. And in this respect he is the truth upon several accounts. 1. Of his personal teaching, God spoke by him, Heb. i. 2. He revealed the Father's mind, Matt. xi. 27. John i. 18. 2. Of his messengers sent by him, as prophets of old, apostles and ministers of late, whom he sendeth forth to make disciples, Matt, xxviii. 18; and to open the eyes of the blind, Acts xxvi. 18. 3. Of his word, which he hath left as our rule, and which is a sure, word of prophecy, more sure than a voice from heaven, 2 Pet. i. 19. 4. Of his ordinances, which he hath established as means to guide us in the way of truth. 5. Of his Spirit, whereby he maketh the word clear, John xiv. 26. This Spirit is sent to teach all truth, and to lead and guide us in all truth, John xvii. 13. 1 John ii. 27; and sept by him, and by the Father in his name, John xiv. 26; xv. 16; xvi. 14. 6. Of his dispensations of providence, within us and without us, by which likewise he instructeth in the way of truth. _Tenthly._ He, is the Truth, in, respect of his bearing witness to, the truth; and this he doth, 1. By himself, who was given for a witness, Isaiah lv. 4; and came to bear witness to the truth, John iii. 11; xviii. 37; and was a faithful witness, Rev. i. 5; iii. 14, 2. By his ministers, who witness the truth of the gospel by publishing and proclaiming the same. 3. By his martyrs, who seal the truth with their blood, and so bear witness to it, Rev. ii. 13; xvii. 6. Acts xxii. 20. 4. By his Spirit, sealing the truth of grace in a believer, and his interest in God through Christ, and his right to all the benefits of the new covenant, "in whom also, after ye believed, ye were sealed with that Holy Spirit of promise, which is the earnest of our inheritance," Eph. i. 13, 14. _Eleventhly._ He is the Truth, in respect that he carrieth towards poor sinners in all things, according to the tenor of the gospel, and the offers thereof; he offers himself to all freely, and promiseth to put none away that come to him; and this he doth in truth: for no man can say, that he had a sincere and true desire to come to Jesus, and that he rejected him and would not look upon him. He giveth encouragement to all sinners to come, that will be content to quit their sins; and promiseth to upbraid none that cometh. And is there any that in their own experience can witness the contrary? He offers all freely; and did he ever reject any upon the want of a price in their hand? Nay, hath not the cause of their getting no admittance been, that they thought to commend themselves to Christ by their worth; and would not take all freely, for the glory of his grace? Let believers and others speak here, out of their own experience, in truth and in uprightness; and it shall be found, that he was and is the truth. _Twelfthly._ He is the Truth, in that, in all his dispensations in the gospel, and in all his works and actions in and about his own people, he is true and upright. All his offers, all his promises, all his dispensations, are done in truth and uprightness; yea, all are done out of truth and uprightness of love, true tenderness and affection to them, whatever the corruption of jealousy and misbelief think and say to the contrary. He is the truth; and so always the same, unchangeable in his love, whatever his dispensations seem to say; and the believer may rest assured hereof, that he being the truth, shall be to him whatever his word holdeth him forth to be, and that constantly and unchangeably. CHAPTER XII. SOME GENERAL USES FROM THIS USEFUL TRUTH, THAT CHRIST IS THE TRUTH. Having thus cleared up this truth, we should come to speak of the way of believers making use of him as the truth, in several cases wherein they will stand in need of him as the truth. But ere we come to the particulars, we shall first propose some general uses of this useful point. _First._ This point of truth serveth to discover unto us, the woful condition of such as are strangers to Christ the truth; and oh, if it were believed! For, 1. They are not yet delivered from that dreadful plague of blindness, error, ignorance, mistakes under which all are by nature; a condition, that if rightly seen, would cause the soul lie low in the dust. 2. Whatever course they take, till they come to Christ, and while they remain in that condition, is a lie, and a false, erroneous, and deceitful way. For still they are turning aside to lies, Psalm xl. 4; and seeking after them, Psalm iv. 2. 3. Whatever hopes and confidence they may have, that their way shall carry them through, yet in end they will be found to inherit lies, Jer. xvi. 19; and meet with the saddest disappointment that can be. For instead of the fellowship of God, Christ, angels, and glorified spirits, they shall take up their lodging with devils and damned souls; and that because they have made no acquaintance with the way of truth; and the way wherein they are, is but a lie and a falsehood; and so of necessity must deceive them. 4. All their literal and speculative knowledge shall not avail them, so long as they are strangers unto him who is the truth. Their knowledge is but ignorance, because it is not a knowledge of him who is the truth. 5. They have none to go to for help and light in the day of their darkness, confusion, and perplexity; for they are not reconciled unto the truth, which alone can prove steadable and comfortable in that day. 6. They can do nothing to help themselves out of that state of darkness and ignorance; and whatever they do to help themselves shall but increase their darkness and misery; because there is no truth there, and truth, even the truth alone, can dispel these clouds of error, mistakes, ignorance, &c. _Secondly._ Hence, we see the happy and blessed condition of believers, who have embraced this truth, and gotten their souls opened to him who is the truth; for, 1. They are in part delivered from that mass of lies, mistakes, misapprehensions, errors, deceitfulness and ignorance under which they lay formerly, and all the unregenerate do yet lie. And though they be not fully delivered therefrom, yet the day is coming when that shall be, and the begun work of grace and truth in them is a pledge thereof; and at present they have ground to believe, that that evil shall not again have dominion over them, they being now under grace, and under the guidance of truth. 2. Howbeit they have many perplexing thoughts, doubts and fears of their state and condition, and think many a time, that they shall one day or other perish by the way; and all their hopes and confidence shall evanish; yet having given up themselves to truth, and to the truth, they shall not be disappointed in the end. The truth shall land them safe on the other side. The truth shall prove no lie. 3. They have a fast and steadable friend to go to, in a day of darkness, clouds, doubts, when falsehood and lies are like to prevail, even the Truth, who alone can help them in that day. 4. Howbeit the knowledge they have of God, and of the mysteries of the gospel, be but small; yet that small measure being taught by him, who is the truth, and flowing from truth, shall prove sanctifying and saving. 9. They have ground to hope for more freedom from errors and deceitful lies, than others; for they have chosen the way of truth, and given themselves up to the leading of truth. _Object._ But do not even such drink in and receive and plead for errors, as well as others; and is it not sometime found, that they even live and die in some mistakes and errors? _Answ._ I grant the Lord may suffer even some of his own to fall into, and to continue for some time in errors, yea, and it may be all their days, as to some errors, that hereby, all may learn to tremble and fear, and to work out their salvation with fear and trembling. (2.) Some may be tried thereby, Dan. xi. 35. (3.) Others may break their neck thereupon. (4.) To punish themselves, for not making that use of truth, and of the truth, that they should have done; yet we would consider these few things: 1. That there are many more unregenerate persons that fall into error. 2. If his people fall into error at any time, they do not always continue therein to the end. God for his own glory maketh, sometime or other, truth shine in upon their soul, which discovereth that mistake, and presently, the grace of God in their soul maketh them to abhor the same. 3. Or if some continue in it to their dying day, yet they repent of it, by an implicit repentance, as they do of other unknown and unseen evils that lie in their soul; so that that error doth not destroy their soul. 4. There are some gross errors, which a regenerate soul cannot readily embrace, or if, through a mistake, or the power of a temptation, they do embrace them, yet they cannot heartily close with them, whatever for a time, through corruption and pride, they may seem outwardly to do; and that because the very daily exercise of grace will discover them; and so they will be found to be against their daily experience; as some opinions of the Papists, Arminians, and Socinians, together with the abominable Quakers, which a gracious soul, when not carried away with the torrent of corruption, and with the tempest of a temptation, cannot but observe to contradict the daily workings of grace in their soul, and the motions of their sanctified soul, in prayer and other holy duties; and so such as they cannot but find to be false by their own experience. _Thirdly._ Here is ground of a sharp reproof of the wicked, who continue in unbelief; and, 1. Will not believe, nor give any credit to his promises; wherewith he seeketh to allure poor souls to come to him for life. 2. Nor will they believe his threatenings, wherewith he useth to alarm souls, and to urge them forward to their duty. 3. Nor will they believe and receive his offers, as true. 5. Nor will they believe, that he is the true prophet, priest, and king, that must save souls from hell and death, and therefore they will not give him employment in his offices. All which cannot but be a high provocation, for in effect it is to say that he is not the truth, nor worthy to be believed. Let them consider this, and see how they think he shall take this off their hands. No man will take it well that another should either call or account him a liar; and can they think that Christ shall take it well at their hands, to be accounted by them a liar? What will they think to be challenged for this in the great day? Now, the truth is, all unbelievers, as they make God a liar, (O horrid and abominable crime! Whose hair would not stand on end to hear this?) 1 John v. 10, 11. "He that believeth not God hath made him a liar; because he believeth not the record that God gave of his Son. And this is the record, that God hath given to us eternal life; and this life is in his Son." So do they make the Son of God a liar, in all his sayings, in all his offices, and in all his works; and they make the Holy Ghost a liar, in not believing that truth that he hath sealed as firm truth. They make the covenant of suretiship betwixt the Father and the Son, a mere lie and a forgery. O dreadful! They make the word of truth a lie, and they make all the saints liars, and all the officers of Jesus Christ, who declare this truth, and the saints who believe it, and rest upon it, liars. _Fourthly._ Hence is there ground of reproof to the godly, in that, 1. They do not firmly enough believe his sayings, neither his promises, nor his threatenings, as appeareth too oft upon the one hand, by their faintings and fears, and upon the other hand, by their carelessness and loose walk. 2. They make not use of him, in all cases as they ought. His offices lie by and are not improved; nor is he gone to as the truth, in cases requiring his help, as the truth; that is, in cases of darkness, doubtings, confusion, ignorance of their case and condition, and the like. 3. They do not approach to him, nor to God through him, heartily and cordially, as the very truth, and true way. 4. Nor do they rest with confidence upon him in all difficulties, as being the truth that will not fail them, nor disappoint them. 5. Nor do they rejoice in him, as satisfied with him, who is the truth, in the want of all other things. _Fifthly._ The right consideration of this truth should keep us in mind of several great duties; such as those, 1. Of pitying those places where this truth is not heard of, as among Turks and heathens; or where it is darkened with superstition and men's inventions, as among papists; or where it hath been clearly shining, but now is darkened, as in some churches now under the prevailing power of corruption; or, lastly, where it is not received in its power and lustre, as, alas! it is too little received in the best and purest churches. 2. Of being thankful to him for making this truth known in the world, and particularly in the place where we were born, or had our abode; and yet more for that he hath determined our hearts to a believing of this truth, in some weak measure; to an embracing of it, and to a giving of ourselves up to be led, ruled, and guided thereby. 3. Of esteeming highly of every piece of truth for his sake who is the truth; studying it for his sake--loving it for his sake--holding it fast for his sake--witnessing to it, as we are called, for his sake. We should buy the truth, and not sell it, Prov. xxiii. 23; and we should plead for it, and be valiant for it, Isa. lix. 4, 14. Jer. vii. 28; ix. 3. 4. Of taking part with him and his cause, in all hazards, for truth is always on his side; and truth shall prevail at length. 5. Of giving him employment in our doubts and difficulties, whether, (1.) They be about some controverted points of truth, which come to be debated, or to trouble the church. Or, (2.) About our own estate and condition, quarrelled at by Satan, or questioned by the false heart. Or, (3.) About our carriage in our daily walk. In all these, and the like, we should be employing truth, that we may be led in truth, and taught by truth, to walk in sure paths. 6. Of carrying in all things before him as true; for he is truth, and the truth, and so cannot be deceived; and therefore we should walk before him in sincerity and singleness of heart, without guile, hypocrisy, or falsehood, that we may look like children of the truth; and of the day, and of light, and children that will not lie or dissemble, Isaiah lxiii. 8; not like these that lied unto him, Psalm lxxviii. 38. Isaiah lix. 13. 7. Of taking him only for our guide to heaven, by denying our own wit, skill, and understanding, and looking to and resting upon him, who alone is the truth, and so acknowledging him in all our ways, depending on him for light and counsel, for singleness of heart, humility, diligence, and truth, in the inward parts. 8. Of giving up ourselves daily unto him and his guidance, and denying our own wills, humours, parties, or opinions; for he alone is truth, and can only guide us aright. And for this cause, we would acquaint ourselves well with the word, which is our rule, and seek after the Spirit, whom Christ hath promised to lead us into all truth. _Sixthly._ Should not this be a strong inducement to all of us, to lay hold on and grip to him, who is the truth, and only the truth? seeing, 1. All other ways which we can take, will prove a lie to us in the end. 2. He is substance, and no shadow, and all that love him shall inherit substance; for he will fill all their treasures, Prov. viii. 21. 3. Such as embrace him shall not wander, nor be misled; for his "mouth shall speak truth; and wickedness is an abomination to his lips," Prov. viii. 7. "All the words of his mouth are in righteousness, and there is nothing froward or perverse in them," verse 8. "He is wisdom, and dwelleth with prudence, and findeth out knowledge of witty inventions," verse 12. "Counsel is his, and sound wisdom; he hath understanding and strength," ver. 14. 4. He will make good all his promises in due time, and give a subsistence and a being to them all; for he is the Truth, and the Truth must stand to his promises, and fulfil them all. 5. He will never, nay, "never leave his people, nor forsake them," Heb. xiii. 5. He is truth, and cannot deceive; he cannot forsake nor disappoint. He is a spring of water, whose waters fail not, Isaiah lviii. 11. Therefore they cannot be disappointed in the end, and perish, who trust to him. 6. The truth will make them free, John viii. 32, 36, and so deliver them from their state of sin and misery, wherein they lay as captives; and from that spiritual bondage and slavery under which they were held. _Seventhly_. This, to believers, may be a spring of consolation in many cases, as, 1. When error and wickedness seem to prosper and prevail; for though it prevail for a time, yet truth will be victorious at length, and the truth will overcome all. He is truth, and will plead for truth. 2. When friends, acquaintances, relations, fail them, and father and mother forsake them, truth will take them up. He who is the truth will answer his name, and never deceive, never forsake. 3. When riches, honours, pleasures, or what else their heart hath being going out after, prove like summer brooks; for the truth will be the same to them in all generations; there is no shadow of turning with him. The Truth is always truth, and true. 4. When we fear that either ourselves or others shall fall away, in a day of trial, and turn from the truth. Though all men prove liars and deceivers, truth will abide the same, and stand out all the blasts of opposition. 5. When unbelief would make us question the truth of the promises, the faith of his being truth itself, and the truth, even truth in the abstract, would shame unbelief out of countenance. Shall truth fail? Shall not the Truth be true? What a contradiction were that? 6. When we know not how to answer the objections of Satan, and of a false treacherous heart; for truth can easily answer all cavils; and he who is the truth can repel all objections against truth. Truth is impregnable, and can stand against all. 7. When we cannot know, nor discover the wiles and subtilty of Satan. Truth can discover the depths of Satan, and make the poor soul more acquaint with them; so that they shall not any more be ignorant of his devices, who look to him. 8. When the thoughts of the deceitfulness of our hearts trouble us, the depth whereof we cannot search. This then may comfort us, that truth may search the heart and the reins, Jer. xvii. 9, 10. 9. When we cannot tell what our disease and distemper is, and so cannot seek suitable remedies, or help from God, O what a comfort is it, to know and believe, that he is the truth, with whom we have to do, and so knoweth our distemper perfectly, and all its causes and symptoms,--truth cannot be at a stand in discerning our disease; so nor can he be ignorant of the fittest and only safest cures. 10. When we know not what to ask in prayer, as not knowing what is best for us, it is a comfort to remember that we have to do with the Truth, who is perfectly acquainted with all that, and knoweth what is best. 11. When we know not how to answer the calumnies of adversaries, it is comfortable to know that he is the truth, that will hear truth, when men will not, and will own and stand for the truth, when enemies do what they can to darken an honest man's good cause. It is comfortable to know, we have the Truth to appeal to, as David had, Psalm vii. 17. 12. When we think on our own covenant-breaking, and dealing deceitfully with God, it is comfortable to remember, that though we and all men be liars, and deal deceitfully with him, yet he is the truth, and will keep covenant for ever; he will not, he cannot deny himself, 2 Tim. ii. 13. _Eighthly,_ Hence we may certainly conclude, that truth, which is Christ's cause, shall at length prevail; for he is truth, yea, the truth, and so abideth truth; therefore must he prevail, and all the mouths of liars must be stopped. So then let us remain persuaded, that truth at length shall be victorious, and that the cause of Christ shall have the victory. Though, 1. The enemies of truth, and the cause of Christ, be multiplied, and many there be that rise up against it. 2. These enemies should prosper, and that for along time, and carry on their course of error and wickedness with a high hand. 3. There should be few found to befriend truth, and to own it in an evil day. 4. Yea, many of those that did sometime own it, and plead for it, should at length turn their backs upon it, as did Demas. 5. And such as continue constant and faithful, be loaded with reproaches, and pressed under with sore persecution, for adhering to truth, and owning constantly the good cause. 6. Yea, though all things in providence should seem to say, that truth shall not rise again, but seem, on the contrary, to conspire against the same. _Ninthly,_ May we not hence read, what should be our way and course, in a time when a spirit of error is gone abroad, and many are carried off their feet therewith, or when we are doubtful what to do, and what side of the dispute to take. O then is the fit time for us to employ truth, to live near to him who is the truth, to wait on him, and hang upon him, with singleness of heart. _Objection._ But many even of his own people do err and step aside. _Ans._ That is true: But yet, (1.) That will be no excuse to thee. Nay,(2.) That should make thee fear and tremble more. (3.) And it should press thee to lie near to Christ, and to wrestle more earnestly with him, for the Spirit of light and of truth, and to depend more constantly and faithfully upon him, with singleness of heart, and to give up all thy soul and way to him, as the God of truth, and as the truth, that thou mayest be led into all truth. _Tenthly,_ This should stir us up to go to him, and make use of him as the truth in all cases, wherein we may stand in need of truth's hand to help us; and for this cause we should mind those particulars: 1. We should live in the constant conviction of our ignorance, blindness, hypocrisy, readiness to mistake and err. This is clear and manifest, and proved to be truth by daily experience; yet how little is it believed, that it is so with us? Do we see and believe the atheism of our hearts? Do we see and believe the hypocrisy of our hearts? Are we jealous of them, as we ought to be? O that it were so! Let this then be more minded by us. 2. Let us live in the persuasion of this, that he only, and nothing below him, will be able to clear our doubts, dispel our clouds, clear up our mistakes, send us light, and manifest truth unto us; not our own study, pains, prayers, duties, learning, understanding; nor ministers, nor professors, and experienced Christians, and the like. 3. We should be daily giving up ourselves to him, as the truth, in all the forementioned respects, and receiving him into our souls as such, that we may dwell and abide there: then shall the truth make us free; and if the Son make us free, we shall be free indeed, John viii. 36. 4. There should be much single dependence on him for light, instruction, direction, and guidance in all our exigencies. 5. Withal, there should be a waiting on him with patience, giving him liberty to take his own way and time, and a leaving of him thereunto. 6. We should by all means guard against such things as are hinderances, and will prove obstacles to us in this matter; such as, (1.) Prejudices against the truth; for then we will undervalue light, and reject all the directions and instructions of the Spirit, as not agreeing with our prejudicate opinion. (2.) A wilful turning away from truth, as these, 2 Tim. iv. 4. Titus i. 14. (3.) Addictedness to our own judgments and opinions, which causeth pertinaciousness, pride, and conceit, as thinking ourselves so wise, as that we need no information; and this occasioneth a self-confidence. (4.) Looking too much unto, and hanging too much upon men, who are but instruments, crying them up as infallible, and receiving, without further examination, all that they say, not like the Bereans, Acts xvii. This is a great hinderance to the receiving of truth, and very prejudicial. (5.) A neglecting of the use of the means which God hath appointed for this end. (6.) Or an hanging too much on them, and so misplacing them, giving them his room. (7.) Leaning too much to our own understanding, wit and knowledge, &c. (8.) A resisting of the truth, 2 Tim. iii. 8. These and the like hinderances should be guarded against, lest they mar our attaining to the knowledge of truth. 7. There should be much of the exercise of prayer, for this is the main conduit and mean, through which light is conveyed into the soul. There should also be a serious and Christian reading and hearing of the word, which is truth, and the word of truth, and the Scripture of truth; and those duties should be gone about with, (1.) much self-denial; (2.) with much singleness of heart; (3.) with much humility; (4.) with much willingness and readiness to be instructed; (5.) with much seriousness and earnestness; and, (6.) with faith and dependence on God for his blessing and breathing. 8. We should beware of trusting to our own understandings, or to the judgments of other men; nor should we look to what suiteth most our own humours, nor to what appeareth most specious and plausible, for that may deceive us. 9. We should lie open to the influences and rays of light, by exercising faith in earnest desires; as also patient waiting for and single looking to him, minding his name and his relations, promises, and engagements, and the strengthening of our faith and confidence. 10. We should labour to keep fast whatever he teacheth us by his word and Spirit, and not prove leaking vessels. This the apostle exhorteth to, Heb. ii. 1, "Therefore we ought to give the more earnest heed to the things which we have heard, lest at any time we should let them slip;" yea, and we should be established "in the truth," 2 Pet. i. 12. 11. We should beware of resting on a form of the truth, as those did, of whom we read, Rom. ii. 20; and of holding the truth in unrighteousness, as those, Rom. i. 18; and of disobeying it, as those mentioned in Rom. ii. 8. See also Gal. iii. 1; v. 7. 12. But on the contrary, we should so receive truth, as that it might rule and be master in us, captivate judgment, will, and affections, and break out into the practice. And this recommendeth several duties, such as, (1.) To have the truth in us; while as, if we practise otherwise, "the truth is not in us," 1 John i. 8; ii. 4. (2.) To be of the truth, as belonging to its jurisdiction, power, and command, 1 John iii. 19. John xviii. 37. (3.) To do the truth, by having true fellowship with him, 1 John i. 6; and "to walk in the truth," 2 John iv. 3. John iv. Psalm lxxxvi. 11. (4.) To have the loins girt with truth, Eph. i. 14. (5.) To receive the love of the truth, 2 Thess. ii. 10. (6.) To be instructed of him, "as the truth is in Jesus," Eph. iv. 21. (7.) To purify the soul in obeying the truth, 1 Pet. ii. 22. This shall suffice for clearing up, and applying in the general this excellent truth, that Christ is the truth. We shall now come and make some more particular use of this precious point, by speaking to some particular cases (which we shall instance in, by which the understanding Christian may be helped to understand how to carry and how to make use of Christ in other the like cases), wherein Christ is to be made use of as the truth, and show how believers are to make use of him in these cases as the truth. CHAPTER XIII. HOW TO MAKE USE OF CHRIST AS THE TRUTH, FOR GROWTH IN KNOWLEDGE. It is a commanded duty, that we grow in the knowledge of Jesus Christ, 2 Pet. iii. 18; and the knowledge of him being life eternal, John xvii. 3, and our measure of knowledge of him here being but imperfect, for we know but in part, it cannot but be an useful duty, and a desirable thing, to be growing in this knowledge. This is to walk worthy of the Lord unto all pleasing, to be increasing in the knowledge of God, Col. i. 10. Knowledge must be added to virtue; and it layeth a ground for other Christian virtues, 2 Pet. i. 5, 6. In this knowledge we must not be barren, 2 Pet. i. 2. And this being so necessary, so desirable, so useful, and so advantageous a grace, the believer cannot but desire to have more and more of it, especially seeing it is a part of the image of God, Col. iii. 10. Now it is the truth that must teach them here, first and last. "The light of the knowledge of the glory of God must be had in the face of Jesus Christ," 2 Cor. iv. 6. The question therefore is, how we should make use of Jesus Christ for this end, that we may attain to more of this excellent knowledge. _First._ It is good to live in the constant conviction of a necessity of his teaching us, and this taketh in those particulars: 1. That we should be conscious of our ignorance, even when we know most, or think we know most, remembering that the best knoweth but in part, 1 Cor. xiii. 9. The more true knowledge we attain to, the more will we see and be convinced of our ignorance; because the more we know, the more will we discover of the vastness and incomprehensibility of that object, which is proposed to our knowledge. 2. That we should remember, how deceitful our hearts are; and how ready they are to sit down upon a shadow of knowledge, even where we know nothing as we ought to know, 1 Cor. viii. 2; and this will keep us jealous and watchful. 3. And to help forward our jealousy of our own hearts and watchfulness, we should remember that our hearts naturally are averse from any true and saving knowledge; whatever desire there be naturally after knowledge of hidden things out of curiosity; and of things natural; or of things spiritual, as natural, for the perfection of nature, as might be pretended, whereby in effect those that increase knowledge, increase sorrow, Eccl. i. 18. Yet there is no inclination after spiritual and saving knowledge, in us naturally, but an aversion of heart therefrom. 4. That we should study and know the absolute necessity of this knowledge. How necessary it is for our Christian communion with God, and Christian walk with others; how necessary for our right improving of dispensations, general and particular; what a noble ornament of a Christian it is, and a necessary piece of the image of God, which we have lost. _Secondly._ Upon these grounds mentioned, we would also be convinced of this: 1. That of ourselves, and by all our natural parts, endowments, quickness and sagacity, we cannot attain to this saving knowledge, which is a special and saving grace, and so must be wrought in the soul by a divine hand, even the mighty power of God. By our private study and reading, we may attain to a literal, heady, and speculative knowledge, that will puff us up, 1 Cor. viii. 1; but thereby shall we never attain to this knowledge, which is spiritual, hearty, and practical, and so saving, we must have the anointing here, which teacheth us all things, 1 John ii. 27. And of this we should be persuaded, that we may look to a higher hand for light and instruction. _Thirdly._ There should be an eyeing of Christ's furniture and fitness for this work of teaching of us, to wit, 1. An eyeing of him as the substantial wisdom of the Father, Prov. viii. 2. An eyeing of him, as one come out of the bosom of the Father, John i. 18; and so sufficiently enabled to acquaint us with the mysteries of God for salvation. 3. An eyeing of him as Mediator, fully endued with all necessaries for this piece of his work, and so having received the Spirit without measure, for this end, John iii. 34; and as having hid in him all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge, Col. ii. 3; and as having all fullness dwelling in him, Col. i. 19; and also Isa. xi. 2; lxi. 1,2. 4. An eyeing of him, as having power to send the Spirit, that anointing that teacheth us all things, "and is truth and is no lie," 1 John ii. 20-27; not only by way of intercession and entreaty, begging it of the Father, John xv. 16, 17; but also authoritatively, as conjunct with the Father. The Father sendeth him in Christ's name, John xiv. 26; and Christ sendeth him from the Father, John xv. 26; and this Spirit of truth which guideth into all truth, shall receive of Christ's, and shew it unto us, John xvi. 13-15. _Fourthly,_ There should be an eyeing of Christ's readiness, willingness, and engagement to help in this case; and this will encourage the soul to go forward. And for this cause we would remember those things: 1. That he standeth obliged to help us with instruction, by virtue of his office, as a prophet, a witness, a leader, and a commander, Isa. l v. 4. 2. That he is commissioned of the Father for this end, and so is the Father's servant; and is given for "a light to the Gentiles," Isa. xlii. 6; xlix. 6; and the Father is said to speak by him, or in him, Heb. i. 1. 3. That he received his gifts and qualifications for this end and purpose, that he might give out and dispense to his members according to their necessity; as is clear from Psalm lxviii. 18, compared with Eph. iv. 8; what he is said to have received in the one place, he is said to have given in the other. 4. That he hath begun this work already by his Spirit in his followers; and therefore standeth engaged to see it perfected; for all his works are perfect works. 5. That he hath a love to his scholars, and a desire to have them all thriving, and making progress in knowledge; this being his glory who is their master and teacher. 6. That he laid down ways and means, and a constant course for instructing of his people: for, (1.) He hath given his word, and settled and established ordinances for this end. (2.) He hath established a ministry for instructing his people, Eph. iv. 8-13. (3.) He hath gifted persons for this work of the ministry, 1 Cor. xii. 4-11. (4.) He maketh these officers, in the faithful administration of their function, and through his blessing and Spirit, maketh their work prosperous and effectual in his own, as he seeth fit. _Fifthly._ There should be an eyeing of the promises of the covenant of grace made for this end, whether general or particular, or both; such as those which we have, Isa. ii. 9. Hab. ii. 14, "The earth shall be filled with the knowledge of the Lord," or of "the glory of the Lord, as the waters cover the sea;" and that, Isa. xxxii. 4, "the heart of the rash shall understand knowledge," &c.; and Jer. xxxi, 34, "They shall all know me." _Sixthly._ There should be a constant, diligent, serious, and single using of the means of knowledge, with a faithful dependence on Christ by faith, gripping to him in his relations, offices, engagements, and promises, and waiting upon his breathing in hope and patience, Psal. xxv. 5. _Seventhly._ There should be a guarding against every thing that may obstruct this work, and grieve him in it; and therefore we would beware, 1. To undervalue and have a little esteem of knowledge; for this will grieve him; and (to speak so) put him from work. 2. To misimprove any measure of knowledge he giveth. 3. To weary of the means and ordinances whereby he useth to convey knowledge into the soul. 4. To limit the holy One of Israel to this or that mean, to this or that time, or to this or that measure, who should have a latitude as to all these. 5. To despise the day of small things, because we get not more. 6. To be too curious in seeking after the knowledge of hidden mysteries, the knowledge whereof is not so necessary. 7. To lean too much unto, and to depend too much upon the ordinances, or instruments, as if all, or any thing, could come from them. _Eighthly._ There should be a right improving of any measure of knowledge we get to his glory, and to the edification of others, with humility and thankfulness, and so a putting of that talent in use, to gain more to his glory. Whatever measure of knowledge we get, we should in all haste, put it into practice, and set it to work; so shall it increase, and engage him to give more. _Ninthly._ There should be a lying open to Christ's instructions, and to the shinings of the Spirit of light and of truth, and a ready receiving of what measure he is pleased to grant or infuse. Which includeth those duties, 1. A serious and earnest hungering and thirsting after more spiritual knowledge. 2. A diligent use of every approven mean for this end. 3. A going about the means with much self-denial, spirituality, singleness of heart, and sincerity, looking to and depending upon him, who must breathe upon the means, and make them useful. 4. A greedy receiving, drinking in, and treasuring up in the soul what is gotten. 5. A guarding against selfish and bye-ends, with a single eyeing of his glory. 6. A guarding against pride in the heart, and a studying of humility and meekness; for the "meek will he guide in judgment, and the meek will he teach his way," Psal. xxv. 9. 7. A putting of the heart or understanding in his hand, together with the truth, that is heard and received, that he may write the truth, and cause the heart receive the impression of the truth. _Tenthly._ There should be a rolling of the whole matter by faith on him, as the only teacher, a putting of the ignorant, blockish, averse, and perverse heart, into his hand, that he may frame it to his own mind, and a leaving of it there, till he by the Spirit, write in it what he thinketh meet, to his own glory and our good. And sure, were this way followed, growth in knowledge would not be so rare a thing as it is. CAUTIONS. For further direction and caution in this matter, the believer would take notice of these particulars: 1. That he should not sit down upon any measure of knowledge he hath attained to, or can attain to here, as if he had enough, and should labour for no more; but he should still be minding his duty of seeking, and pressing for more. 2. Whenever he is about any mean of knowledge, such as preaching, reading, conference, &c. his heart should be only upon Christ. He should be hanging on his lips for a word of instruction; and with greediness looking for a word from his mouth; he should be sending many posts to heaven, many ejaculatory desires for light and understanding, and that with singleness and sincerity, and not for base ends, or out of hypocrisy. 3. Let him not think, that there is no growth in knowledge, because possibly he perceiveth it not, or is not satisfied as to the measure thereof; yea, though possibly he perceive more ignorance, than ever he did before. If he grow in the knowledge of his own ignorance, it is a growth of knowledge not to be despised; and in a manner, what can we else know of God, but that he far transcendeth all our knowledge, and that he is an incomprehensible one, in all his ways. 4. Let him not think, that there is no growth in knowledge, because he perceiveth not a growth in the knowledge of such or such a particular, which he desireth most; for if there be a truth in the knowledge of other particulars, necessary to be known, there is no reason to complain. If one grow not, as he supposeth, in the knowledge of God, and of the mysteries of the gospel; yet if he grow in the discovery of the treachery and wickedness of his own heart, he cannot say that he groweth not in knowledge. 5. Let him not measure his growth in knowledge, by his growth in the faculty of speaking and discoursing of such or such points of religion; many measure their knowledge by their tongue, and think they know little, because they can express little; and so they think they attain to no increase or growth in knowledge, because they perceive no increase or growth in this faculty of discoursing, and talking of such or such points of truth. It is safer to measure their knowledge by the impression that the truth hath on their spirits, and the effects of it on all their carriage, than by their ability and skill to talk and dispute of it. 6. Let them beware to imagine, that they shall be able to search out the Almighty unto perfection, "Canst thou (said Zophar, Job. xi. 7, 8, 9.) by searching find out God? canst thou find out the Almighty unto perfection? He is as high as heaven, what canst thou do? deeper than hell, what canst thou know? The measure thereof is longer than the earth, and broader than, the sea." Or that they shall be able ever to win to the bottom of their own false deceitful heart, which, as Jeremiah saith, chap. xvii. 9, "Is deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked; who can know it?" and which it is God's prerogative alone to search and try, ver. 10. Neither let them think, so long as they are here, to win to an exact and perfect knowledge of the mysteries of God, wherein is the manifold wisdom of God, Eph. iii. 10, which very principalities and powers in heavenly places are learning; and which the angels are poring and looking into with desire, 1 Pet. i. 12. There is no perfection in knowledge to be had here; for here the best but knoweth in part, and prophesieth in part, 1 Cor. xiii. 4. 7. Let them not think that every one shall have the same measure of knowledge; every one hath not the like use for it, or the like capacity for it. There is a measure proportioned to every one; they should not then complain, because they have not such a measure of knowledge as they perceive in some others. It may be, the Lord hath some harder piece of service, which calleth for more knowledge, to put others to. Let every one then mind his duty faithfully and conscientiously, and let him not quarrel with God, that he attaineth not to such a measure of knowledge as he seeth others attain unto. 8. Neither let them think, that the same measure is required of all. For more is required of some, by reason of their office and charge in the house of God, being called to teach and instruct others; and so more is required of such, as have larger capacities, and a better faculty of understanding than others, who naturally are but of a narrow reach, and of a shallow capacity. More also is required of such as live under plain, powerful, and lively ordinances, and under a more powerful and spiritual dispensation of the grace of God, than of others that want such advantages. So likewise, more is required of old Christians than of new beginners; old men, of much and long experience, should know more than such as are but babes in Christ and but of yesterday. 9. Let their desires run out after that knowledge, not which puffeth up,--for there is a knowledge which puffeth up, 1 Cor. viii. 1,--but which humbleth, and driveth the soul farther from itself and nearer to Christ. 10. They should carefully distinguish betwixt the gift of knowledge and the grace of knowledge: That ordinarily puffeth up, this humbleth; that bringeth not the soul to Jesus, this doth; that is but a form, Rom. ii. 20, and doth not retain God, Rom. i. 28, this is a real thing, laying hold on God and holding him fast, having the fear of the Lord for its principle, for this "fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom," Job. xxviii. 28. Psalm cxi. 10. Prov. i. 7, and ix. 10.; that lieth most in the head, and venteth most in discourses, words, yea, and sometimes vanisheth into vain notions, but this goeth down to the heart, and lodgeth there and appeareth in the man's walk and conversation; as these two would be distinguished, so the one would not be measured by the other. 11. When they do not profit indeed, let them beware of quarrelling with Christ, or of blaming him in any manner of way; but let them lay the blame of their shortcoming on themselves, for not making more use of him by faith and single dependence upon him. It is true, none will be so bold as in words to quarrel with or blame him; yet the heart is deceitful and tacitly may raise and foment such thoughts of him and his dispensations, as can pass under no other notion than a quarrelling with him. Now these would be guarded against. 12. Beware of urging for, or expecting immediate revelation, or extraordinary manifestations. For we should not tempt the Lord, nor set limits to him, neither should we prescribe means and ways to him,--we must be satisfied with the ordinary means which he hath appointed, and wait at wisdom's doors, with our ears nailed to his posts. 13. Whatever point of truth they learn, or whatever measure of knowledge they get, they would do well to give that back again to Christ, to keep for them against a time of need; and wait on him for grace to improve it for his glory. 14. Let them beware of minding things too high, Psalm cxxxi. 1. It is better to fear, and to stand in awe, and to seek to lay the foundations well, to get the saving knowledge of things necessary to salvation. This will yield most peace and satisfaction. CHAPTER XIV. HOW TO MAKE USE OF CHRIST, AS TRUTH, FOR COMFORT, WHEN TRUTH IS OPPRESSED AND BORN DOWN. There is another difficulty, wherein believing souls will stand in need of Christ, as the truth, to help them; and that is, when his work is overturned, his cause borne down, truth condemned, and enemies, in their opposition to his work, prospering in all their wicked attempts. This is a very trying dispensation, as we see it was to the holy penman of Psalm lxxiii. for it made him to stagger, so that his feet were almost gone, and his steps had well nigh slipt; yea he was almost repenting of his being a godly person, saying, ver. 13, "Verily I have cleansed my heart in vain, and washed my hands in innocency." It was something like this, which made Jeremiah say, chap. viii. 18, "When I would comfort myself against sorrow, my heart is faint in me." The harvest was past, and the summer was ended, and yet they were not saved, ver. 20; and they looked for peace, but no good came, and for a time of health, but behold trouble, ver. 15--and this was fainting and vexatious. And what made Baruch, Jeremiah's faithful companion in tribulation, say, "Woe is me now! for the Lord hath added grief to my sorrow; I fainted in my sighing, and I find no rest," Jer. xlv. 3, but this, that all things were turning upside down. God was breaking down that, which he had built; and plucking up that which he had planted. Tribulation and suffering for a good cause, is even fainting to some; as the Apostle hinteth, Ephes. iii. 13, when he says, wherefore, "I desire that ye faint not at my tribulation for you." And that which evinceth the danger of this dispensation, is the fainting and backsliding of many, in such a time of trial, as sad experience too often cleareth. Now the believer's stay in this case, must be the Rock of Ages, Jesus the Truth. It is he alone who can keep straight and honest in such a reeling time. So that a sight of Christ as the Truth, in reference to the carrying on of truth in the earth, and advancing his cause and work, will be the only support of a soul shaken by such a piece of trial. But the question is, how should believers make use of Christ, in such a time, to the end they may be kept from fainting and succumbing in such a storm? To which I answer, that the faith and consideration of those particulars would help to establishment: 1. That Christ, in all this great work of redemption, and in every piece of it, is the Father's servant. So is he frequently called, "his servant," Isa. xlii. 1; xlix. 3, 5, 6; lii. 13; and liii. 11. Zech. iii. 8; and therefore this work is a work intrusted to him, and he standeth engaged as a servant, to be faithful to his trust. Moreover add to this, that he hath a commission to perfect that work; and we need not doubt, but he who is the truth will be true to his trust. "Him hath God the Father sealed," John vi. 27; and he often tells us himself, that he is "sent of the Father," John iv. 34; v. 23, 24, 30, 36, 37; vi. 38, 39, 40, 44, 57; viii. 16, 18; xii. 44, 45, 49; vii. 16; ix. 4; x. 36; and xi. 42. 2. That while he was upon the earth, he finished that work that was committed to him to finish here, having purchased all that was to be bought by his blood, paying all the price that justice did ask, John xvii. 4; xix. 30. By which price he hath purchased a people to himself, Rev. v. 9. Luke i. 68. So that his work, cause, and interest, is a purchased work bought with his blood. 3. That his resurrection and glorification is an undoubted proof of this, that justice is satisfied, and that the price is fully paid; and also that his exaltation at the Father's right hand is a sure evidence and ground of hope, that he shall at last triumph over all his enemies, and that his work of truth shall prosper. The Father said to him, Psalm cx. 1, "Sit thou on my right hand, until I make thine enemies thy footstool." Being highly exalted, he hath got "a name above every name: that at his name every knee should bow, of things in heaven and things in earth, and things under the earth; and that every tongue should confess, that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father," Phil. ii. 9, 10, 11. 4. That the Father standeth engaged to make good to him all that was promised, and to give him all that he purchased, Isa. liii. 10, 11, 12. Christ, having now fulfilled his undertaking, by making his soul an offering for sin, and so satisfying justice, which is openly declared by his resurrection, and admission to glory, as the head of his elect, is to expect the accomplishment of what was conditioned unto him. His work, therefore, on the earth must prosper; and the Father hath undertaken to see it prosper. Surely the faith of this would much support a poor soul, staggering at the thoughts of the prosperity of the wicked, and of their evil cause. 5. That Christ himself is now thoroughly furnished and enabled for the carrying on of his work, over the belly of all adversaries, for all power in "Heaven and earth is given to him," Matt. xxviii. 18; "and every knee must bow to him," Phil. ii. 10; "all judgment is committed unto him," John v. 22, 27; "angels, powers, and authority are made subject unto him," 1 Pet. iii. 22; "yea, all things are under him," Eph. i. 22. How then can his work miscarry; or who can hinder, that truth should flourish on the earth? 6. That Christ is actually at work, employing this power for the carrying forward of his design, for the glory of the Father, and for his own glory, and for the good of his poor people. The Father worked by him, and he by the Spirit, which is his great Vicegerent, sent from the Father, and from him, and his work is to glorify the Son, and he shall receive of his, and show it unto us, John xvi. 14. 7. That Christ, upon many accounts, standeth engaged to perfect this work which he hath begun and is about. His honour is engaged to go through, seeing now he is fully furnished for it, and hath all the creation at his command. He must then perfect his work, as to the application, as well as he did perfect it as to the purchase. His love to his Father's and his own glory, and to his own people's good and salvation, may assure us, that he will not leave the work unperfected; and his power and furniture may give us full security, that no stop which his work meeteth with shall be able to hinder it. 8. That hence it is clear and manifest, that his wheel is in the midst of the wheels of men, and that therefore he is ordering all their motions and reelings to the best. His wheel keepeth an even pace, and moveth equally and equitably in the midst of men's contrary motions. 9. And that, therefore, all the eccentric and irregular motions of devils and wicked men being in his hand, and ordered by him, cannot hinder, but further his end; so that even enemies, while opposing and seeking to destroy the cause and interest of Christ, that his name and truth should no more be mentioned, are promoving his work. His wheel is the great wheel that ordereth all the lesser and subordinate wheels, whatever contrary motions they may have the one to the other, and all or many of them may seem to have to this great wheel; so that, do they what they will, the work of our Lord goeth on. Their opposition is setting his work forward, though they intend the contrary; however their faces look, they row to the port he would be at. This is an undoubted truth, and confirmed in all ages, and yet is not firmly believed; and a truth it is, which, if believed, would do much to settle our staggering souls in a stormy day. 10. That at last he shall come "to be glorified in his saints," 2 Thess. i. 10; "when he shall be revealed from heaven with all his mighty angels," verse 7. Then shall it be seen whose counsel shall stand, his or men's; and whose work shall prosper, his or Satan's. CAUTIONS. Yet, let me add a few words, for caution and direction here. 1. The consideration of these things mentioned should not make us slacken our diligence in prayer and other duties; and when they are aright considered, they will rather prove a spur and a goad in our side to set us forward, than a bridle to hold us back. 2. We would not think that Christ's work and interest is going backward always, when it seemeth so to us. Even when he is casting down what he hath built up, and plucking up what he hath planted, his work is prospering, for all that is in order to the laying of a better foundation, and to the carrying on of a more glorious work, when he shall lay all the stones with fair colours, and the foundations with sapphires, and make the windows of crystal, &c. Isa. liv. 11,12. 3. Though his work be always going on, and his truth prospering, yet we would not think that it will always prosper alike in our apprehensions; many times we judge by rules of our own making, and not by the rule of truth, and hence it is that we mistake oftentimes. We walk little by faith, and too much by sense; and hence we judge too much by sense, and so pass a wrong judgment, to his dishonour, and the saddening of our own hearts. 4. Nor would we think that his truth and interest is ruined and gone, because it is sore oppressed in this or that particular place of the world; as if his work were not of an universal extent, and in all the churches. If his truth thrive and prosper in some other place of the world, shall we not say, that his kingdom is coming? Or shall we limit all his work and interest to one small part of the world? 5. We would not think the worse of his work because it is carried on with so many stops, and doth meet with so many impediments in its way. We are not acquainted with the depths of his infinite wisdom and counsel; and so we see not what noble ends he hath before him, in suffering those impediments to lie in the way of his chariot. We think he should ride so triumphantly all along, that none should once dare to cast the least block in his way. But we judge carnally, as unacquainted with the many noble and glorious designs which he hath in ordering matters. As himself was for a stone of stumbling and a rock of offence, so will he have the way of the carrying on of his work prove, in his holy and spotless justice, a stumbling-stone to many that shall stumble thereat, and fall, and never rise any more. 6. We should beware to think that Christ hath forgotten his work, because he seemeth to take no notice of our prayers, which we are putting up now and then for his work. He may be doing that which we are desiring in the general, and yet not let us know that he is answering our prayers; and that for wise and holy ends, to keep us humble and diligent. He may seem to disregard our suits, and yet be carrying on his work, and granting us our desires upon the matter. 7. Hence we should beware of desponding, and growing heartless and faint, when we see few owning truth, or standing upon Christ's side; for he needeth not man's help to carry on this work, though he sometimes thinketh good to condescend so far as to honour some to be instrumental in setting of it forward, who yet have nothing but as he giveth; let us not then think, that his work cannot prosper because great ones and mean ones oppose it, and such as should stand for it and own it, are few and fainting, without strength, courage, or zeal. CHAPTER XV. HOW TO MAKE USE OF CHRIST FOR STEADFASTNESS, IN A TIME WHEN TRUTH IS OPPRESSED AND BORNE DOWN. When enemies are prevailing, and the way of truth is evil spoken of, many faint, and many turn aside, and do not plead for truth, nor stand up for the interest of Christ, in their hour and power of darkness: many are overcome with base fear, and either side with the workers of iniquity, or are not valiant for the truth, but being faint-hearted, turn back. Now the thoughts of this may put some who desire to stand fast, and to own him and his cause in a day of trial, to enquire how they shall make use of Christ, who is the truth, so as to be enabled to stand in the day of temptation, and keep fast by truth when it is loaded with reproaches, and buried under an heap of obloquy. For satisfaction to this question, I shall shortly point out those directions which, if followed, may prove helpful to keep the soul from fainting, misbelieving, doubting, quarrelling at the Lord's dispensations, and from yielding to the temptations in such a day. 1. The believer should live in the conviction of his hazard through the sleight of Satan, the strength of temptation, the wickedness and treachery of the heart, the evil example of others, and the want of sanctified courage, zeal, and resolution; and this will keep the soul humble, and far from boasting of its own strength, which was Peter's fault. 2. They should live in the faith and persuasion of this, that it is Christ alone who is the truth, who can help them to stand for truth in a day of temptation; and that all their former purposes, vows, resolutions, solemn professions, and the like, will prove but weak cables to hold them fast in a day of a storm; and that only the rock of ages must save them; and their being a leeward of him, and partaking of his warm and safe protection, will do their business. That all their stock of grace and knowledge, and that confirmed with resolutions and sincere purposes, will help but little in that day; and that new influences of grace and truth, from the fountain, that is full of grace and truth, will only prove establishing to the soul, and confirm it in the truth in that day. 3. Therefore they should eye Christ in his offices, particularly as the great prophet who can teach as never man taught; so teach as to make the soul receive the doctrine, and to hold it fast--to receive it in love, and lay it up in the heart as a rich and enriching treasure. 4. They should eye him in his relations unto his people, as their head, husband, brother, leader, commander, captain, &c.; for those give ground of approaching unto him with confidence in the day of darkness and mists, for light and direction, and for strength and courage in the day of temptation; and give ground of hope of help in that day of trial and difficulty. 5. They should eye and act faith upon the promises of assistance and through-bearing, in the day of calamity; such as those--Isa. xliii. 2, "When thou passest through the waters, I will be with thee; and through the rivers, they shall not overflow thee; when thou walkest through the fire, thou shalt not be burnt; neither shall the flame kindle upon thee." And Isaiah xli. 13, "For I the Lord thy God will hold thy right hand, saying unto thee, fear not, I will help thee." And particularly they would eye the promises of light in the day of darkness, Isaiah lviii. 8, 10; lx. 20. 2 Sam. xxii. 29. 6. They should look on Christ as an exalted conqueror, now risen and glorified; as a victorious captain that hath fought and overcome, that they, as his followers, may be made partakers of his victory and conquest, and so reap the fruit of his resurrection and ascension, in their establishment in the truth, when it is borne down and questioned, yea, and condemned by men. He abode steadfast and immoveable in the midst of all the storms that blew in his face; and as he came to bear witness to the truth, so did he faithfully and zealously avow truth, even to the death; and in death got the victory of the arch liar and deceiver. Now the believer should eye this, for the strengthening of his faith and hope of victory also, through him; and therefore would wait patiently for his help, and not make haste; for they who believe make not haste, Isaiah xxviii. 16, knowing that he is true and faithful, and will not disappoint his followers that trust in him. And moreover it would be of advantage to them in this case, to eye that gracious and comfortable word, John xiv. 19, "because I live, ye shall live also;" and so by faith conclude, that seeing Christ now liveth as a conqueror over darkness, untruth, reproaches, calumnies, and opposition of liars, yea, of the father of lies, they through him shall also live, and ride out that storm; and this will give much courage to the soul to endure temptation, and to wait in patience for an outgate. 7. They should study much, and suck at the grand promise of his coming again, and of finally dispelling all clouds, and of fully clearing up his glorious truths, that are now covered over with obloquy, and buried under reproaches; and this will encourage the soul to stand to truth in the midst of opposition, believing, that at length, truth, how much soever opposed now, shall be victorious. 8. They should be single in their dependence on him, for strength and through-bearing, in that day of trial--not leaning to their own understanding, but acknowledging him in all their ways, Prov. iii. 8; and when they see no hope of outgate in the world, nor appearance of the clearing up of the day, they would comfort themselves, and encourage themselves in the Lord, as David did in a great strait, 1 Sam. xx. 6. 9. Upon the forementioned grounds they would cast all the care of their through-bearing on him, who careth for them, 1 Pet. v. 7--rolling all their difficulties on him--consulting only with him and his word, and not with flesh and blood; and so they would commit their ways to him, who disposeth of all things as he seeth good; forbearing to limit the Holy One of Israel, or to quarrel with him for any thing he doth; and patiently wait for his outgate and delivery. 10. It were good, in this time of trial, to be remembering the worth of truth, and entertaining high thoughts of the smallest piece of truth that is questioned, for his sake, who is the truth; that a sight of the glorious worth thereof, may make them account the less of all they can lose in the defence and maintenance thereof. 11. So were it good at this time, when truths come to be questioned, to be lying near to the truth, for light, and to be keeping fast, what he by his Spirit cleareth up to be truth, though the light should not be so full as to dispel all objections. This were to depend upon him for light, with singleness of heart; and in godly simplicity and sincerity to follow his direction and torch, though it should not shine so bright as they could wish. CAUTIONS. A few words of caution will be useful here also; as, 1. The believer, though taking this course, would not think to be altogether free of fear of stepping aside, in less or in more. God may think good to let much of this abide, to the end he may be kept watchful, tender, and diligent; for fear maketh the soul circumspect and watchful; and this is a good preservative from defection. 2. Nor would the believer think, that hereby he shall be kept altogether free of fainting. The heart, now and then, through fear and misbelief, may fall into a fit of fainting, and think all is gone; and yet he may carry poor souls through, and make his strength perfect in their wickedness, 2 Cor. xii. 9; that when they are supported and carried through the temptation, they may sing praise to him, and not ascribe any thing to themselves--remembering how often they were fainting, and almost giving over the cause as desperate and hopeless. 3. They would not think it strange, if, in the time of their wrestling with difficulties, the Lord hide his face from them, and give not them that joyful access unto him in prayer, that sometimes they have met with; for the Lord may see it fit to put them to this point of trial among the rest, to see if the love of his glory and truth will keep them standing, when they want the encouragement that might be expected in that way; and if pure conscience to the command and authority of God, will keep from siding with an evil way, when the soul is destitute of all sensible encouragement, both from within and from without. 4. In all this business believers should carry singly with an eye to God's glory; and should not be acted with self-ends, or drawn by carnal and selfish motives. They should not desire stability and through-bearing to be seen of men, or to gain applause and praise of men; lest God be provoked to leave them to themselves, and they at length come off with discredit, as did Peter. Therefore they should strive against these carnal motions of the heart, and labour for spirituality, singleness of heart, and truth in the inward parts, which the Lord desireth, Psalm li. 6. CHAPTER XVI. HOW TO MAKE USE OF CHRIST AS THE TRUTH, WHEN ERROR PREVAILETH, AND THE SPIRIT OF ERROR CARRIETH MANY AWAY. There is a time when the spirit of error is going abroad, and truth is questioned, and many are led away with delusions. For Satan can change himself into an angel of light, and make many great and fairlike pretensions to holiness, and under that pretext usher in untruths, and gain the consent of many unto them; so that in such a time of temptation many are stolen off their feet, and made to depart from the right ways of God, and to embrace error and delusions instead of truth. Now the question is, how a poor believer shall make use of Christ, who is the truth, for keeping him steadfast in the truth, in such a day of trial, and from embracing of error, how plausible soever it may appear. For satisfaction to this we shall propose these few things: 1. In such a time, when a spirit of error is let loose and rageth, and carrieth several away, it were good for all who would be kept straight and honest, to be walking in fear. It is not good to despise such a sly and subtle enemy, especially in the hour and power of darkness. Then all are called to be on their guard, and to stand upon their watch-tower, and to be jealous of their corrupt hearts, that are ready enough of their own accord to drink in error, and to receive the temptation at any time; and much more then. 2. They should not think that their knowledge and ability to dispute for truth, will keep them steadfast, if there be not more; for if the temptation grow, they may come to reason and dispute themselves out of all their former knowledge and skill. The father of lies is a cunning sophister, and knoweth, how to shake their grounds and cast all loose. 3. They should renew their covenant grips of Christ, and make sure that main business, viz. their peace and union with God in Christ, and their accepting of Christ for their head and husband. They would labour to have the foundation sure, and to be united unto the chief corner-stone, that so blow the storm as it will, they may ride safely; and that hereby they may have access to Christ with boldness, in their difficulty, and may with confidence seek light from him in the hour of darkness. 4. To the end they may be kept more watchful and circumspect, they should remember, that it is a dishonourable thing to Christ, for them to step aside, in the least matter of truth; the denying of the least point of truth is a consequential denying of him who is the truth; and to loose a foot in the matters of truth is very dangerous; for who can tell when they who once slip a foot shall recover it again? And who can tell how many, and how dreadful errors they may drink in, who have once opened the door to a small error? Therefore they should beware of tampering in this matter, and to admit any error, upon the account that it is a small and inconsiderable one. There may be an unseen concatenation betwixt one error and another, and betwixt a small one and a greater one, so as if the little one be admitted and received, the greater shall follow; and it may be feared that if they once dally with error, and make a gap in their consciences, that God will give them up to judicial blindness, that, ere all be done, they shall embrace that opinion which sometime they seemed to hate as death. 5. They should eye the promises suiting that cause; viz. the promises of God's guiding "the blind by a way which they know not: of making darkness light before them, and crooked things straight," Isa. xlii. 16; and of "guiding continually," Isa. lviii. 11; see also Isa. xlix. 10.; lvii. 18.; and they would act faith on these and the like promises, as now made sure by Jesus. 6. Particularly, they should fix their eye upon that principal promise, of the Spirit of truth, to guide into all truth, John xvi. 13. 7. With singleness of heart they should depend on Christ, and wait for light from him, and beware of prejudice at the truth; with singleness of heart they should lie open to his instructions, and to the influences of his light and direction, and receive in the beams of his divine light; and thus go about duties, viz. prayer, conference, preaching, reading, &c. with an eye fixed on him, and with a soul open to him, and free of all sinful pre-engagement and love to error. 8. With singleness of heart, they should give up their souls to Christ, as the truth, that he would write the truth in their souls, and frame their souls unto the truth, and unto that truth which is most questioned, and by which they are most in hazard to be drawn away; and urge and press him by prayer and supplication to do the duty of a head, a husband, guide and commander, &c. unto them; and that he would be a light unto them in that day of darkness, and not suffer them to dishonour him or prove scandalous to others; by departing from the truth and embracing error. A serious single-hearted dealing with him upon the grounds of the covenant promises and his relations and engagements, might prove steadable in this case, if accompanied with a lying open to the influences of truth and to the light of information which he is pleased to send by the Spirit of truth. CAUTIONS AND DIRECTIONS. For further clearing of this matter, we shall hint at some cautions and further directions useful here: such as, 1. They should beware of thinking that God should come to them with light and instruction in an extraordinary manner, and reveal the truth of the question controverted somewhat immediately: for this were a manifest tempting and limiting of the Holy One of Israel. We must be satisfied with the means of instruction which he hath provided, and run to the law and to the testimony. We have the Scriptures, which are able to make the man of God perfect and "thoroughly furnished unto all good works," 2 Tim. iii. 16, 17; and to "make wise unto salvation," ver. 15. There must we see light; and there must we wait for the breathings of his Spirit with life, and coming with light to clear up truth to us: for they are the scriptures of truth, Dan. x. 21; and the law of the Lord, which is "perfect, converting the soul;" and the commandment of the Lord, that is pure, "enlightening the eyes," Psalm xix. 7, 8. We have the ministry which God hath also appointed for this end, to make known unto us his mind; there must we wait for him and his light. Thus must we wait at the posts of wisdom's doors; and wait for the king of light in his own way wherein he hath appointed us to wait for him. And if he think good to come another way more immediate, let him always be welcome; but let not us limit him nor prescribe ways to him, but follow his directions. 2. When any thing is borne in upon their spirit as a truth to be received, or as an error to be rejected, more immediately, they should beware of admitting of every such thing without trial and examination; for we are expressly forbidden to believe every spirit, and commanded to try them whether they are of God or not, 1 John iv. 1. The Lord will not take it ill that even his own immediate motions and revelations be tried and examined by the word; because the word is given us for this end, to be our test and standard of truth. The way of immediate revelation is not the ordinary way now of God's manifesting his mind to his people. He hath now chosen another way, and given us a more sure word of prophesy than was, "even a voice from heaven," as Peter saith, 2 Pet. i. 18, 19. It is commended in the Bereans, Acts xvii. 11, who upon this account were "more noble than those of Thessalonica, in that they received the word with all readiness of mind, and searched the Scriptures daily, whether those things were so." Even Paul's words, though he was an authorised and an infallible apostle of Christ's, are here put to the touch-stone of the word. "Many false prophets may go out, and deceive many, and speak great swelling words of vanity," 1 John iv. 1; 2 Pet. ii. 18; and the devil can transchange himself into an angel of light, 2 Cor. xi. 14; and though an angel out of heaven should preach any other thing than what is in the written word, we ought not to receive his doctrine, but to reject it, and to account him accursed, Gal. i. 8. So that the written word must be much studied by us; and by it must we try all motions, all doctrines, all inspirations, all revelations, and all manifestations. 3. Much more, they should beware of thinking that the dictates of their conscience obligeth them, so as that always they must of necessity follow the same. Conscience, being God's deputy in the soul, is to be followed no further than it speaketh for God and according to truth. An erring conscience, though it bind so far as that he who doth contrary to the dictates thereof sinneth against God, in that, knowing no other than that the dictates of conscience are right and consonant to the mind of God, yet dare counteract the same, and thus formally rebel against God's authority; yet it doth not oblige us to believe and to do what it asserteth to be truth and duty. It will not then be enough for them to say, my conscience and the light within me speaketh so, and instructeth me so; for that light may be darkness, and error, and delusion, and so no rule for them to walk by. "To the law and to the testimony," and if their conscience, mind, and light within them "speak not according to this word, it is because there is no light in them," Isa. viii. 20. I grant, as I said, they cannot without sin counteract the dictates even of an erring conscience, because they know no better but that these dictates are according to truth; and thus an erring conscience is a most dangerous thing, and bringeth people under a great dilemma, that whether they follow it or not, they sin; and there is no other remedy here, but to lay by the erring conscience, and get a conscience rightly informed by the word; putting it in Christ's hand to be better formed and informed, that so it may do its office better. This then should be especially guarded against, for if once they lay down this for a principle, that whatever their conscience and mind, or inward light (as some call it) dictate, must be followed, there is no delusion, how false, how abominable soever it be, but they may be at length in hazard to be drawn away with; and so the rule that they will walk by be nothing in effect but the spirit of lies and of delusion, and the motions and dictates of him who is the father of lies, that is, the devil. 4. Such as pretend to walk so much by conscience, should take heed that they take not that for the dictate of conscience, which really is but the dictates of their own humours, inclinations, pre-occupied minds, and biassed wills. When conscience speaketh, it groundeth on the authority of God, whether truly or falsely, and proposeth such a thing to be done, or to be refrained from, merely because God commandeth that, and forbiddeth this, though sometimes it mistaketh. But though the dictates of men's humours, inclinations, pre-occupied judgments, and wills, may pretend God's authority for what they say, yet really some carnal respect, selfish end, and the like, lieth at the bottom, and is the chief spring of that motion. And also the dictates of humour and biassed wills are usually more violent and fierce than the dictates of conscience; for wanting the authority of God to back their assertions and prescriptions, they must make up that with an addition of preternatural force and strength. Hence, such as are purely led by conscience, are pliable, humble, and ready to hear and receive information; whereas, others are headstrong and pertinacious, unwilling to receive instruction, or to hear any thing contrary to their minds, lest their conscience, receiving more light, speak with a higher voice against their inclinations and former ways, and so create more trouble to them; while, as now they enjoy more quiet within, so long as the cry of their self-will and biassed judgments is so loud, that they cannot well hear the still and low voice of conscience. 5. They should labour for much self-denial and sincerity; and to be free from the snares and power of selfish ends, as credit, a name, and applause, or what of that kind, that may be like "the fear of man that bringeth a snare," Prov. xxix. 25; for that will be like a gift that blindeth the eyes of the wise, Exod. xxiii. 8. Love to carry on a party, or a design to be seen or accounted somebody, to maintain their credit and reputation, lest they be accounted changelings and the like, will prove very dangerous in this case; for these may forcibly carry the soul away, to embrace one error after another, and one error to strengthen and confirm another, that it is hard to know where or when they shall stand. And these, by respects, may so forcibly drive the soul forward, that he shall neither hear the voice of conscience within, nor any instruction from without. 6. They should study the word of truth without prejudice and any sinful pre-engagement, lest they be made thereby to wire-draw and wrest the word to their own destruction, as some of whom Peter speaketh, 2 Pet. iii. 16. It is a dangerous thing to study the word with a prejudicate opinion; and to bow or wire-draw the word and make it speak what we would have it speak, for the confirmation of our opinions and sentiments. For this is but to mock God and his law, and to say, let his law speak what it will, I will maintain this opinion, and so make the word speak as we would have it, or else lay it by. This is to walk by some other rule than the word, and to make the word serve our lusts and confirm our errors, than which a greater indignity cannot be done to the Spirit of truth speaking in the word. 7. In reading and studying of the word there should be much single dependence on the Spirit for light; waiting for clearness from him whom Christ hath promised to lead us into all truth. An earnest wrestling with him for his assistance, enlightening the mind with divine light to understand the truth, and inclining the soul to a ready embracing and receiving of the truth declared in the word. 8. Though one place of scripture be enough to confirm any point of truth, and ground sufficient for us to believe what is there said, there being nothing in scripture but what is truth; yet, in such a time of abounding errors, and when many are going abroad speaking perverse things to lead the simple away, it were spiritual wisdom to be comparing scripture with scripture, and not be lightly embracing whatever may seem probable, and fairly deducible from some one passage or other of scripture, but to be comparing that with other passages and see what concord there is; for this is certain, whatever point contradicteth other clear and manifest testimonies of scripture cannot be true; however a cunning sophister may make it seem very probably to flow out of such or such a passage of scripture. The testimony of the Spirit is uniform, and free from all contradictions; and therefore we must see, if such an assertion, that some would draw from such a passage, agree with other plain passages, and if not, be sure that is not the meaning of the place. When the devil did wrest and abuse that passage of truth, Ps. xci. 11. "He shall give his angels charge concerning thee," &c, and from thence would infer, that Christ might cast himself down, Matt. iv. 6, Christ shews that this inference was bad, because it did not agree with other divine testimonies, particularly not with that, Deut. vi. 16, "Thou shalt not tempt the Lord thy God." And thereby he teacheth us to take this course in times of temptation, and so compare spiritual things with spiritual, as Paul speaketh, 1 Cor. ii. 13. Especially they should beware of expounding clear scriptures by such as are more dark and mysterious; see 2 Pet. iii. 16. It is always safer to explain darker passages by such as are more clear. 9. Let them guard against an humour of new-fangledness, nauseating old and solid truths, and seeking after something new, having ears itching after new doctrines, yea, or new modes and dresses of old truths. For this is provoking to God, and proveth dangerous; for such turn away their ears from the truth, and are turned into fables, as Paul telleth us, 2 Tim. iv. 3, 4. "For the time will come," saith he, "when they will not endure sound doctrine, but after their own lusts shall they heap to themselves teachers, having itching ears; and they shall turn away their ears from the truth, and shall be turned unto fables." This savoureth of a spirit of levity and inconstancy, which is dangerous. 10. They should labour to have no prejudice at the truth, but receive it in the love of it; lest, for that cause, God give them up to strong delusions, to believe lies, and to be led with the deceivableness of unrighteousness, as we see, 2 Thess. ii. 10-12, "And. with all deceivableness of unrighteousness in them that perish, because they received not the love of the truth, that they might be saved; and for this cause God shall send them strong delusion that they should believe a lie, that they all might be damned who believed not the truth, but had pleasure in unrighteousness." 11. So should they beware of stifling the truth, of making it a prisoner, and detaining it in unrighteousness, like those spoken of, Rom. i. 18. "For which cause God them up to uncleanness and vile affections, and they became vain in their imaginations, and their foolish heart was darkened, yea, professing themselves to be wise, they became fools," ver. 21, &c. They should let truth have free liberty and power in the soul; and should yield up themselves to be ruled and guided by it; and not torture with it, lay chains upon it, or fetter it, and keep it as a prisoner that can do nothing. 12. For this cause, they should hold fast the truth which they have learned, and have been taught by the Spirit out of the word. When Paul would guard and fortify Timothy against seducers, that crept into houses, leading captive silly women, &c., among other directions gave him this, 2 Tim. iii. 14, 15, "But continue thou in the things which thou hast learned, and hast been assured of, knowing of whom thou hast learned; and that from a child thou hast known the Scriptures, which are able to make thee wise unto salvation," &c. So he would have the Colossians walking in Christ, rooted and built up in him, and stablished in the faith as they had been taught, Col. ii. 6, 7. 13. Especially they would be holding the groundwork fast,--faith in Christ. It were good in such a time of erring from the way of truth, to be gripping Christ faster, and cleaving to him by faith, and living by faith in him. This is to hold the foundation fast; and then let the tempest of error blow as it will, they will ride at a sure anchor, and be safe, because fixed upon the Rock of Ages; and further, living near Christ in such a dangerous day, would be a noble preservative from the infection of error. The soul that is dwelling in Christ and gripping to him daily by faith, and acting love on him, dwelleth in light, will discover error sooner than another, because living under the rays of the Sun of Righteousness, which discovereth error. 14. They should labour to learn the truth, as it is in Jesus; and the truths which they have heard of him, and have been taught by him, as the truth is in him, will abide, when other truths that have been learned but of men, and heard of men, and as it was in the preaching of men, and in books, shall soon evanish in a day of trial. This is to learn Christ, as the apostle speaketh, Eph. iv. 20, 21, "But ye have not so learned Christ, if so be that ye have heard him, and have been taught by him, as the truth is in Jesus." When we learn the truth, as it is in Jesus, it bringeth us always to him, and hath a tendency to fix our hearts on him, and is a piece of the bond that bindeth us to him and his way: we receive it then as a piece of his doctrine, which we must own, and stand unto. O if we learned all our divinity thus, we would be more constant and steadfast in it than we are! 15. When controversies arise, and they know not which side to choose--both seemeth to them to be alike well founded on the word--they should exercise their spiritual sagacity, and set their gift of discerning a work, to see which of the two tendeth most to promote piety and godliness, and the kingdom of Christ, and so see which of the two is the truth, "which is after godliness," as the apostle speaketh, Tit. i. 1; they must look which of the two is the doctrine which is according to godliness, I Tim. vi. 3. That is the truth which is Christ's, and which should be owned and embraced, viz. which floweth from a spirit of godliness, and tendeth to promove godliness, and suiteth with the true principles of godliness, even gospel godliness, wrought according to the tenor of the covenant of grace; that is, by the strength of the Spirit of Jesus, dwelling and working in us, and not according to the tenor of the covenant of works, that is, wrought by our own strength, &c. 16. Yet withal they should take heed that they mistake not here; for they may look upon some ways and doctrines as having a greater tendency to promove godliness than others; which indeed have not, but only seem so. They should therefore consider well what is the way of godliness laid down in the noble device of the gospel, which is the way that only glorifieth God, Father, Son, and Holy Ghost; and see what suiteth most with that, according to the word, and not what seemeth most suitable to godliness in their apprehension. The word is the best judge and test of true godliness; and in the word we have the only safest mean of true godliness held forth: therefore we should see what doctrine tendeth most to promote godliness according to the way held forth in the word, and choose that. 17. They should guard against pride and self-conceit, as thinking they are wise enough, and understanding enough in those matters, and so need not take a lesson of any. This may be of great prejudice; for "it is the meek that God guideth in judgment; and to the meek will he teach his way," Psalm xxv. 9. Therefore it were good for his people in such a day, to be meek and humble, willing and ready to learn of any person, how mean soever, that can teach the ways of God. The Lord may bless a word spoken by a private person, when he will not bless the word spoken by a minister; for his blessings are free. And it is not good to despise any mean. Apollos, though instructed in the way of the Lord, mighty in the Scriptures, fervent in spirit, and teaching diligently the things of the Lord, Acts xviii. 24, 25, yet was content to learn of Aquila, and of his wife Priscilla, when they expounded unto him the way of God more perfectly, ver. 26. 18. In such a time, it is not unsafe to look to such as have been eminent in the ways of God, and lie near to him; for it is probable they may know much of the mind of God in those questioned matters. Hence we find the apostle putting Timothy and others to this duty in a time when false teachers were going abroad, saying, 2 Tim. iii. 10, "but thou hast fully known my doctrine, manner of life;" and 1 Cor. iv. 16, "wherefore I beseech you to be followers of me;" and 1 Cor. xi. 1; and again, Phil. iii. 17, "brethren, be followers together of me." All which say, that though we should call no man Rabbi, as hanging our faith absolutely on him, yet in such a time of prevailing error and of false teachers going abroad, some respect should be had to such as have found grace of the Lord to be faithful in times of trial, and have maintained truth, and stood for it, in times of persecution, and have with singleness of heart followed the Lord; it not being ordinary with God to leave such as in sincerity seek him, and desire to follow his way in truth and uprightness, and to give the revelation of his mind and the manifestation of his Spirit to others, who have not gone through such trials. 19. They should also at such a time be much in the sincere practice of uncontroverted duties, and in putting uncontroverted and unquestionable and unquestioned truths into practice; and this may prove a notable mean to keep them right: for then are they in God's way, and so the devil hath not that advantage of them that he hath of others who are out of the way of duty. David understood more than the ancients, because he kept God's precepts, Psal. cxix. 100. 20. It were good and suitable at such a time, to be much in the fear of God, remembering what an one he is, and how hazardous it is to sin against him, by drinking in the least point of error. The promise is made to such, Psalm xxv. 12, "What man is he that feareth the Lord, him shall he teach in the way that he shall choose." 21. Finally, at such a time they should be much in communion with Jesus, lying near him; much in prayer to him, studying his relations, offices, furniture, readiness to help with light and counsel; and they should draw near to him with humility, boldness, faith, confidence, love, tenderness, and sincerity; and then they shall not find that he shall fail them, or disappoint them. Enough of this. I proceed therefore to another case, which is: CHAPTER XVII. HOW TO MAKE USE OF CHRIST AS THE TRUTH, THAT WE MAY GET OUR CASE AND CONDITION CLEARED UP TO US. The believer is oft complaining of darkness concerning his case and condition, so as he cannot tell what to say of himself, or what judgment to pass on himself, and he knoweth not how to win to a distinct and clear discovery of his state and condition. Now, it is truth alone, and the Truth, that can satisfy them as to this. The question then is, how they shall make use of, and apply themselves to this truth, to the end they may get the truth of their condition discovered to them. But first let us see what this case may be. Consider, then, 1. That grace may be in the soul, and yet not be seen nor observed. This is manifest by daily experience. 2. Not only so, but a gracious soul that is reconciled With God in Christ, and hath the spirit of grace dwelling in it, may suppose itself a stranger yet unto this reconciliation, and void of the grace of God, and so be still in the state of nature. 3. Yea, a soul may not only suppose and conclude itself in nature, while it is in a state of grace, but further, may be filled with terror and apprehensions of God's wrath and indignation; and that in such a measure, as that thereby it may be as a distracted person, as we see it was with Heman, Psalm lxxxviii. 15, who said, "while I suffer thy terror, I am distracted." The wrath of God lay hard upon him, and he said, that he was afflicted with all God's waves, ver. 7. Hence he cried out, vers. 16. 17, "thy fierce wrath goeth over me, thy terrors have cut me off, they came round about me daily," or all the day, "like water they compassed me about together." And yet for all this, the first word of his complaint was faith, ver. 1. Many such complaints hear we out of Job's mouth, to whom God, notwithstanding, was that gracious, that he never came to question his state before God, or to conclude his hypocrisy, or his being still in the state of nature. But it is not so with every one that is so exercised. 4. Yea, further, with those inward strokes upon the soul, they may have sin and guilt charged upon their consciences; and this will make their life yet more bitter, and put a sharper edge upon the rods. Thus was Job made to possess the sins of his youth, Job. xiii. 26, and made to say, "My transgression is sealed up in a bag, and thou sewest up mine iniquity," Job. xiv. 17. 5. Moreover, they may be in such a condition a long time, and all the while have no light of comfort, as we may see in Job and Heman. They may even walk in darkness, and have no light of comfort, Isa. 1. 10. 6. Yea, and also be without the hope of a delivery or outgate. Hence crieth Heman, Psalm lxxxviii. 4-5, "I am counted with them that go down into the pit, free among the dead, like the slain that lie in the grave, whom thou rememberest no more, and they are cut off from thine hand." Yea, they may be driven to the very border of despair, and conclude that there is no hope, as the church did, Ezek. xxxvii. 11, "Our bones are dried, and our hope is lost, and we are cut off for our parts;" and as Job, chap. vii. 6, "My days are swifter than a weaver's shuttle, and are spent without hope;" and chap. xix. 10, "He hath destroyed me on every side, and I am gone: mine hope hath been removed like a tree." Now, though sometimes, as we see in Job, and in Heman too, a soul may be under such a sad and sharp dispensation, and yet not brought to question their state, or to conclude themselves children of wrath, lying still in black nature, yet it is not so with all who are so exercised; but many under such a dispensation, may at least be in the dark as to their state before God; and if they do not positively assert their state to be bad, yet they do much question if they be in the state of grace, and would be comforted under all their pressures and afflictions, if they could win to the least well-grounded apprehension of their interest in Christ. In such a case as this is, there is ground for a poor soul to make use of Christ for outgate; and an outgate may be had in God's time, and as he seeth fit, by a right use-making of and going out to him, who is the Truth. So, then, the soul that would have its state and condition cleared up, and a discovery of its being reconciled to God through Jesus, and in a state of grace, and would make use of Christ as the Truth, for this end, would, (1.) Look out to Christ, as a feeling High Priest, faithful and merciful, who, being like us in all things, except sin, doth sympathise with, and succour such as are tempted, Heb. ii. 17, 18. And as a Priest, "that is touched with the feeling of our infirmities," Heb. iv. 15. Albeit Christ, in the deepest of his darkness, was never made to question his Sonship, but avouched God to be his God even when he was forsaken, Psalm xxii. 1. Matt, xxvii. 46. Mark xv. 34. Yet he knew what it was to be tempted, to question his Sonship, when the devil said unto him, Matt. iv. 3, "If thou be the Son of God;" and he knows what such a distress as he himself was into, wrestling with an angry God, hiding himself and forsaking, will work in a poor sinner; and being a merciful and sympathising High Priest, he cannot but pity such as are under such a distemper, and, as a gracious Head, sympathise with them. Now, the believer would look out to him as such an one, and upon this ground go to him with confidence and boldness, and lay out their case before him, that he may help and send relief: (2.) They would also eye Christ as able to save out of that condition, and to command light to shine out of darkness; and so, as one "able to save to the uttermost all that come to God through him," Heb. vii. 25. (3.) And not only so, but eye him also as given, sent, and commissioned of the Father, to be a light to such as sit in darkness; even to the Gentile. Isa. xlii. 6, and xlix. 6. Luke ii. 32. Acts xiii. 47; xxvi. 23. John viii. 12; and this will encourage the poor souls to go out to him with their darkness, when they see that he is sent as a Light and as the Truth, to clear up poor souls that walk in darkness and have no light. When they see that it is his place and office to help them, and consider that he is true to his trust, and true and faithful in all that was committed to him, it not only will embolden them to come forward to him, but it will strengthen their hope, and encourage them to wait on. (4.) They would stay themselves on him as an all-sufficient helper, renouncing all other, crying out, that they will have no light but his light, and that they will seek no where else for light, but wait at his door, till he, who is the Sun of Righteousness, shall arise in their soul, and come with healing light in his wings. (5.) They would by faith roll and cast their darkened souls, their confused case, their overwhelmed hearts on him, and leave them there; for he is the only physician; and the blind soul must be put in his hand, who can take away the film, and cause the scales fall off, and make light break into the soul and discover unto it its condition. (6.) It would be useful and very steadable, in such a time of darkness, for the believer to be frequent in acting direct acts of faith on Christ; that is, be frequent in going to him as an all-sufficient Mediator, as the only refuge and shadow for a poor, weary, scorched soul, Isa. iv. 6. "And a man shall be as an hiding-place from the wind, and a covert from the tempest, as rivers of water in a dry place, as the shadow of a great rock in a weary land," Isa. xxxii. 2; "as one who is a strength to the needy in his distress, a refuge from the storm, a shadow from the heat," &c. Isa. xxv, 4. When the soul is thus overwhelmed with clouds, and doubteth of its interest in Christ, it would then put it out of doubt, by flying to him for refuge from the storm of God's indignation, and lay hold on him as he is freely offered in the gospel, and thus renew its grips of him as the offered all-sufficient Mediator, and frequent direct acts of faith will help at length to a reflex act. The soul that is daily running to Christ, according to the covenant, with all its necessities, and laying hold on him as only able to help, will at length come to see that it hath believed on him, and is made welcome by him, and accepted through him. So that reiterated acts of faith on an offered cautioner and salvation, will dispel at length those clouds of darkness that trouble the soul. 7. Such souls would beware of making their bands stronger, and their darkness greater, by their folly and unwise carriage; for this cause they would beware, (1.) To cry out in despondency of spirit as if there were no hope, and to conclude peremptorily, that they are cut off, and it is vain to wait any longer; for this course will but darken them the more, and multiply the clouds over their head. (2.) To run away from Christ through unbelief and despair, for that will make their case yet worse. (3.) To walk untenderly and not circumspectly; for the more sins appear, the less light will be had. O but souls would be tender in all their conversation at that time, and guard against the least sin or appearance of evil! (4.) To fret and repine against God, because of that dispensation; for that will but entangle the soul more, and wreathe the yoke straiter about its neck, and put itself further out of case to be relieved and to receive light. 8. Such would do well not to limit the Holy One of Israel, but to wait with patience till his time come to speak in light to the soul, knowing that such as wait upon him shall never be ashamed, Isa. xlix. 23, because he waiteth to be gracious; and therefore blessed are all they that wait upon him, Isa. xxx. 18. _Quest._ But what if for all this I get no outgate, but my distress and darkness rather grow upon my hand? _Ans._ That such a thing may be, I grant, the Lord thinking it fit. (1.) To exercise their faith, dependence, patience, hope, and desire more. (2.) And to discover more unto them their own weakness, faintings, faithfulness. (3.) To shew his absolute power and sovereignty. (4.) To make his grace and mercy more conspicuous and remarkable at length. And, (5.) to train them up in a way of dependence on him in the dark, and of leaning to him when walking in darkness, yea, and in a way of believing when they think they have no faith at all, and for other holy ends. Yet the soul would not despond, for there are several things that may serve to support and bear up the heart even in that case, as, 1. This is not their case alone, others have been in the like before, and many have had the like complaints in all ages, as is known to such as have been acquainted with exercised souls. 2. It may yield peace and comfort to know that they are about duty when looking to him, and depending upon him, and waiting for his light. 3. The promises made to such as wait for him may support the soul and yield comfort. 4. The distinct knowledge and uptaking of their condition, though it be comfortable and refreshing, yet it is not absolutely necessary. A soul may be a saved soul, though those clouds should continue to its dying day; and though, as long as they lived, they should never get a clear discovery of their gracious state, but spend their days in mourning, complaining, and crying out of darkness. 5. Such a soul should think that it is much that he is kept out of hell so long; and sure, the thoughts of what he is, and of what he deserveth, may make him sober, and not to think much, though he reach not so high as to see his name written in the book of life. 6. They should know that full assurance of hope and of faith is but rare: and even such as have it do not ordinarily keep it long; so that it should not much trouble them, if, after all their pains, they cannot win at it. 7. If they win to any real ground of hope, how small soever, they should think much of that; for many dear to Christ live long, and never know what so much is. 8. It is no small matter that they are not sinking in the gulf of inconsideration, and plagued with an indifferency in these matters, but are made to value Christ and an interest in him at such a rate. 9. Their going to Christ with all their wants, laying all on him, and their making that their daily exercise, may keep up their hearts from fainting, yea, and fill their souls with joy; for that is really the exercise of faith. And the great and gracious promises are made to such as believe, and not to such only as know they do believe. I grant such as know not that they do believe, cannot draw comfort from these promises; yet it is true that one may, by reflecting on the actings of his own soul, see and know that really he is going out to Christ, forsaking himself, casting his burden on him, waiting and depending upon him; when yet he will not say that he doth believe. And when he seeth this working of soul towards Christ, he is obliged to believe that he believeth, and thereupon rejoice in hope of the great promises. And however the very sight and knowledge of this acting and motion of soul may give them some comfort, though they shall not take it for faith, because it is the way of duty, and it is the thing the gospel calleth for, and because they cannot show an instance of anyone soul that did so, and perished. But the truth is, the right understanding of the nature of faith would clear many doubts, and prevent many questions. I come to speak a little to the last case which I shall handle, which is, CHAPTER XVIII. HOW WE SHALL MAKE USE OF CHRIST AS THE TRUTH, THAT WE MAY WIN TO RIGHT AND SUITABLE THOUGHTS OF GOD. This is a case that much troubleth the people of God,--they cannot get right and suitable thoughts of God, which they earnestly desire to have, nor know not how to win at them; and certain it is, he only who is the Truth, and came out of the bosom of the Father, can help here. Therefore for our use-making of him for this end, it would be remembered, 1. That the mind of man, through the fall, is nothing but a mass of ignorance and blindness; that "the understanding is darkened," Eph. iv. 17, 18; "and naturally we are in darkness," 1 John ii. 9, 11; "yea, under the power of darkness," Col. i. 13; and, which is more, our minds are naturally filled with prejudice against God, and enmity, through wickedness naturally residing there, and which the prince of the power of the air, the spirit which worketh in the children of disobedience, increaseth and stirreth up. 2. That this evil is not totally taken away, even in the godly, but helped only in part; for they see and know but in part, 1 Cor. xiii. 13. 3. That hence it cometh to pass, that through the working of corruption, the soul of a believer can sometimes win to no right thought of God at all; or at best to some very narrow and unsuitable conceptions of him and his ways; yea, sometimes, all the thoughts they can get of God are vain and idle, if not misshapen and blasphemous. 4. That as we are, we cannot see God; "for no man hath seen him," Matt. xi. 27. John iv. 46; for he is an invisible God, 1 Tim. i. 17. Heb. xi. 27. "He dwelleth in light which no man can approach unto. Him no man hath seen, nor can see," 1 Tim. vi. 16. 1 John iv. 12. 5. That all that knowledge of God which is saving, is to be found in Christ, who is the "brightness of his glory, and the express image of his person," Heb. i. 2; "and the image of the invisible God," Col. i. 15; and is for this end come out from the bosom of the Father, that he might acquaint us with him, and with all his secrets, John i. 18. Matt. xi. 27, so far as is needful for us to know. He is God incarnate, that in him we may see the invisible. Thus "God is manifest in the flesh," 1 Tim. iii. 16; "and the Word was made flesh, and dwelt among us," John i. 14. 6. That therefore if we would see and know God, we must go to Christ, who is the temple in which God dwelleth and manifesteth his glory; and in and through him, must we see and conceive of God. The light that we get of the knowledge of the glory of God, must be in the face of Jesus Christ, 2 Cor. iv. 6; that is, in the manifestations that Christ hath made of himself, in his natures, offices, ordinances, works, dispensations of grace, mediate and immediate, &c. And thus doth God, who commanded the light to shine out of darkness, "cause this light of the knowledge of his glory shine into our hearts," viz. in the face of Jesus Christ, that is, in the dispensations of grace in the gospel, which is the glorious gospel of Christ, 2 Cor. iv. 4, and, as it were, the face of Jesus Christ; for as by the face a man is best known and distinguished from others, so Christ is visibly, and discernibly, and manifestly, seen and known, in and by the gospel dispensations; there are all the lineaments and draughts of the glory of God which we would know, lively and clearly to be seen. So then, if we would make use of Christ for this end, that we may win to a right sight of God, and suitable conceptions of his glory, we would consider those things: 1. We would live under the sense and thorough conviction of the greatness and incomprehensibleness of God, as being every way past finding out; and also under the conviction of our own darkness and incapacity to conceive aright of him, even as to what he hath revealed of himself. 2. We would know, that what the works of creation and providence declare and preach forth of God, though it be sufficient to make heathens and others that do not improve the same to a right acknowledging of him, inexcusable, as Paul teacheth us, Rom. i. 20; yet all that is short of giving to us that saving knowledge of him, which must be had, and which is life eternal, John xvii. 2. 3. We would know, that what of God is to be found out by the works of creation and providence, is more distinctly seen in Christ and in the gospel. Here is a greater and more glorious discovery of God, and of his glorious attributes, his justice, power, wisdom, goodness, holiness, truth, &c. than can be found by the deepest diving naturalist, and most wise moral observer of Providence, that is not taught out of the gospel. 4. Yea, there is something of God to be seen in Christ, in the gospel, which can be observed in none of his works of, creation or common providence; there is the grace of God that bringeth salvation, that is made to appear only by the gospel, Titus ii. 11; and there is a peculiar kindness and love of God towards man, which is only discovered by Christ in the gospel, Titus iii. 4. There is that manifold wisdom of God, that mystery which was hid from the beginning of the world in God; that principalities and powers in heavenly places, the greatest and wisest of naturalists must learn by the church, wherein that is preached and proclaimed, by the dispensations of the gospel, Eph. iii. 9, 10. His mercy pardoning poor sinners, justice being satisfied, cannot be cleared by nature. Nature cannot unfold that mystery of justice and mercy, concurring to the salvation of a sinner--only the gospel can clear that riddle. 5. We would remember, that all the beams of that glory which are necessary and useful for us to know, are, to speak so, contracted in Christ, and there vailed, to the end that we may more steadily look upon them. We may go to our Brother, who is flesh of our flesh, and there, through the vail of his flesh, see and behold what otherwise was invisible. As we can look to the sun better shining in a pail of water, than by looking up immediately; so can we behold God and his glory better in Christ, where there is a thin vail (to speak so) drawn over that otherwise blinding, yea, killing glory, than by looking to God without Christ; for, alas! we could not endure one glance of an immediate ray of divine glory: it would kill us outright. 6. We must then go to Christ, and there see God; for he who seeth him seeth the Father also, John xiv. 9. Particularly, we must go the face of Jesus Christ, that is, that whereby he hath made himself known, the noble contrivance of the glorious gospel, wherein all things are so carried on, as that God is glorified in his Son, in the salvation of poor sinners. The whole work of salvation is laid on Christ, and the Father is glorified in him, who is his Servant and his Chosen, whom he upholdeth and furnisheth for the work, Isa. xlii. 1,2. He is called the covenant itself. He is the undertaker in the covenant of redemption and in the covenant of grace; all is founded on him; all the good things of it are given out by him; all the grace by which we close with it, and accept of him according to it, is given by him. Now, in this gospel contrivance are all the lines of the glorious face of Christ to be seen; and in that face must we see and discern the glory of God, all the rays of which are centered in Christ, and there will we get a noble prospect of that glorious object. So that all such as would make use of Christ for this end, that they might come to have right and suitable thoughts and apprehensions of God, must be well acquainted with the whole draught and frame of the gospel; and so acquainted therewith, as to see Christ the substance, ground and all of it, and to see him in every part of it. 7. Whatever we know or learn of God by his works of creation and providence, in the world or about ourselves, we would bring it in here that it may receive a new tincture and a deeper impression. That is done, when we find and learn something of Christ there, and are brought nearer Christ thereby, and made thereby to discover something more of the glory of God in the face of Christ; or are made to understand better something of the revelation that is made of God in the gospel, or moved thereby to improve it better. 8. In all this matter, we must not go without our guide, lest we wander in this wilderness, and it prove a labyrinth to us. We must take Christ with us all along; he must teach us to understand his own face, and to read the glorious characters of that excellent glory which is to be seen in his face. He must be our interpreter, and teach us how to read this book, and how to understand what is written therein; he must give the discerning eye, and the understanding heart; even the spirit of wisdom and understanding, to take up the mysteries of God. 9. And for this cause, we should by faith lay hold upon the promises of the Spirit, whereby we may be made spiritual, and have our understandings enlightened more and more, to understand the mysterious characters of divine majesty and glory. 10. In all this exercise we should walk with fear, and carry with us impressions of the dreadful majesty and glory of God, that we may tremble and fear, and stand in awe, and read what we read of this glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ, this glorious Bible, with reverence and godly fear. And thus we may be helped to win to right and suitable thoughts of God; yet withal we should, for CAUTIONS, Consider a few things further; as, 1. That we must not think to "search out the Almighty unto perfection," Job xi. 7. 2. Nor must we think to get any one point of God known and understood perfectly; corruption will mix in itself, do our best; and our shortcomings will not easily be reckoned up. 3. We must beware of carnal curiosity, and of unlawful diving into this depth, lest we drown. 4. We should not dream of a state here, wherein we will not need Christ for this end. Yea, I suppose, in glory, he will be of use to us, as to the seeing of God; for even there, as he is to-day, so shall he for ever abide, God and man in two distinct natures and one person, and that cannot be for nought; and as God will be still God invisible and unsearchable, so we, though glorified, will remain finite creatures, and therefore will stand in need of Christ, that in his glorious face we may see the invisible. He must be our _lumen gloriae_. 5. We should think it no small matter to have the impressions of this sight upon our hearts, that we cannot see him; and that we, in this state of sin, cannot get right and suitable apprehensions of him. I say, the impression of this on our spirits, that is, such a sight of impossibility to get him seen aright, as will keep the heart in awe, and cause us walk before him in fear and reverence, and to humble ourselves in the dust, and to tremble whenever we make mention of his name, or begin to meditate on him, knowing how great an one he is, and how dangerous it is to think amiss of him, and how difficult to get a right thought of him. CHAPTER XIX. "AND THE LIFE." HOW CHRIST IS THE LIFE. This, as the former, being spoken indefinitely, may be universally taken, as relating both to such as are yet in the state of nature, and to such as are in the state of grace, and so may be considered in reference to both, and ground three points of truth, both in reference to the one, and in reference to the other; to wit, 1. That our case is such as we stand in need of his help, as being the Life. 2. That no other way but by him, can we get that supply of life, which we stand in need of, for he only is the Life, excluding all other. 3. That this help is to be had in him fully and completely, for not only is he able to quicken, but he is called the Life; so that the help which he giveth is full, excellent, and complete. Looking upon the words in reference to such as are in nature, they point out those three truths to us: I. That all of us by nature are dead, standing in need of quickening and of life; for this is presupposed, while he is said to be the Life, and that both legally and really: Legally, being under the sentence of death, for Adam's transgression, Rom. v. 15, and for that original corruption of heart we have; and really, the sentence of the law being in part executed, and that both as to the body and as to the soul. As to the body, it is now subject to death, and all the forerunners thereof, such as weakness, pains, sickness, fears, torment, trouble, weariness, yea, and in hazard of hell-fire, and the torments of the second death for ever. As to the soul, it also is many ways dead; but first in a way that is purely penal, and next in a way that is also sinful; and both ways, as to what is present, and as to what is future. For as to that which is penal and present, it is, (1.) separated from God and his favour, Gen. iii. 8, 10, 24; (2.) is under his curse and wrath, whence it cometh to pass, that by nature we are children of wrath, Eph. ii. 2, 5; servants of Satan, 2 Tim. ii. 26; the consequence of which is sad and heavy, for hence it is that we cannot please God, do what we will. Till we be brought out of that state, our ordinary and civil actions, even ploughing the ground, is sin, Prov. xxi. 4; yea, our religious actions, whether natural or instituted, are abomination; even our sacrifices, Prov. xv. 8; xxi. 27; and prayers, Prov. xxviii. 9. Psalm x. 7; yea, and all our thoughts and purposes, Prov. xv. 26; and likewise all our ways, Prov. xv. 9. As to what is penal and future, it is obnoxious to that everlasting excommunication from the presence of the Lord, and from the glory of his power, 2 Thess. i. 8, 9; and to the torments of hell for ever, Mark ix. 44, 46, 48. Luke xvi. As to what is not only penal but also sinful, the soul here is under the stroke of darkness in the understanding, perverseness and rebelliousness in the will, irregularity and disorder in the affections, whereby the soul is unfit for any thing that is good, Rom. iii. 10-20. Eph. ii. 1, 2, 3. Rom. v. 6; viii. 7, 8; whence proceedeth all our actual transgressions, James i. 14, 15. And moreover sometimes the soul is given up to a reprobate mind, Rom. i. 28; to strong delusion, 2 Thess. ii. 2; to hardness of heart, Rom. ii. 5; horror of conscience, Isa. xxxiii. 14; to vile affections, Rom. i. 26, and the like spiritual plagues, which, though the Lord inflict on some only, yet all are obnoxious to the same by nature, and can expect no less, if the Lord should enter with them into judgment. And finally, as to what is future of this kind, they are, being fuel for Tophet, obnoxious to that malignant, sinful, blasphemous, and desperate rebellion against God, in hell for evermore! O how lamentable, upon this consideration, must the condition of such be, as are yet in the state of nature! Oh, if it were but seen and felt! But, alas! there is this addition to all, that people know not this; they consider it not, they believe it not, they feel it not, they see it not; and hence it cometh to pass, that, _First_. They cannot bewail and lament their condition, nor be humbled therefor. _Secondly_. They cannot, and will not seek after a remedy; for the whole will not trouble themselves to seek after a physician. And sure upon this account, their case calleth for pity and compassion from all that know what a dreadful thing it is to be in such a condition, and should stir up all to pray for them, and to do all they can to help them out of that state of sin and misery, which is dreadful to think upon. Should not the thoughts and consideration of this put us all to try and search, if we be yet translated from death to life, and delivered out of that dreadful and terrible state, and made partakers of the first resurrection. It not being my purpose to handle this point at large, I shall not here insist in giving marks, whereby this may be known, and which are obvious in Paul's Epistles, and to be found handled at large in several practical pieces, chiefly in Mr. Guthrie's Great Interest. I shall only desire every one to consider and examine, 1. Whether or not the voice of Christ, which quickeneth the dead, hath been heard and welcomed in their soul. This is effectual calling. 2. Whether or not there be a thorough change wrought in their soul, a change in the whole man, so as all things are become new. 2 Cor. v. 17. 3. Whether or not there be a principle of life within? and they be led by the Spirit. 4. Whether or not there be a living to the glory of the Lord Redeemer. And when by an impartial trial, a discovery is made of the badness of our condition, should we not be alarmed to look about us, and to labour by all means for an outgate? Considering, (1.) How doleful and lamentable this condition is. (2.) How sad and dreadful the consequences of it are. (3.) How happy a thing it is to be delivered from this miserable and sinful condition. And, (4.) How there is a possibility of outgate. _Finally_. It may break a heart of stone to think, how people that are in such a condition are so unwilling to come out of it: For, 1. How unwilling are they once to suspect their condition, or to suppose that it may be bad, and that they may be yet unconverted? 2. How unwilling are they, to sit down seriously to try and examine the matter, and to lay their case to the touch-stone of the word? 3. Yea, how unwilling are they to hear any thing that may tend to awaken them, or to discover unto them the deadness of their condition? 4. How ready to stifle challenges of conscience, or any common motion of the Spirit, which tendeth to alarm their soul? 5. How great enemies are they to such ordinances as serve to awaken sleeping consciences? 6. And how do they hate such ministers as preach such doctrine as may serve to rouse them up, and set them a-work about their own salvation? II. We learn hence, that without Christ there is no imaginary way of delivery out of this natural state of death. "No other name is given under heaven whereby we can be saved," Acts iv. 12; and angels can make no help here, nor can one of us deliver another; the redemption of the soul is more precious than so, Psalm xlix. 7, 8. Nor is there any thing we can do for ourselves that will avail here; all our prayers, tears, whippings, fastings, vows, alms-deeds, purposes, promises, resolutions, abstinence from some evils, outward amendments, good morality and civility, outward religiousness, yea, and if it were possible, our keeping of the whole law, will not help us out of this pit. And we may weary ourselves in such exercises in vain; for they will prove but bodily exercises that profit little. And when in this way we have spent all our time, parts, spirits, and labour, we shall at length see and say, that we have spent our money for that which is not bread. This should put all of us to try what it is which we lean to for life; and what it is, the consideration whereof giveth us peace and quietness when the thoughts of death, judgment, hell, and the wrath of God come upon us and trouble us: For if it be any thing beside Christ that our soul leaneth to, and that we are comforted by, and found all our hopes upon, we will meet with a lamentable (oh! for ever lamentable!) disappointment. Be sure then, that our hearts renounce all other ways and means of outgate out of this death, besides Jesus, the resurrection and the life, else it will not be well with us. III. We see here, that delivery out of this natural state of death is only had by Christ: For he alone is the life, and the life that is in him is suitable and excellent. Hence he is called "the bread of life," John vi. 35, 48. "The resurrection and the life," John xi. 25. "The water of life," Rev. xxi. 6, and xxii. 17. "The tree of life," Rev. xxii. 2, 14. "The prince of life," Acts iii. 15. "Our life," Col. iii. 4. "The word of life, and life itself," 1 John i. 1, 2. And as he is a suitable and excellent life, so is he an all-sufficient and perfect life, able every way to help us and to deliver us from all the parts of our death. For, 1. He delivereth from the sentence of the law, Rom. v. 17, 18, undergoing the curse of the law, and becoming a curse for us, 2 Cor. v. 21. 2. He taketh away the curse and sting of all temporal plagues, yea, and of death itself, causing all to work together for good to such as love him, Rom. viii. 28. He hath killed him that had the power of death, that is, the devil, Heb. ii. 14; and through him the sting of death, which is sin, is taken away, 1 Cor. xv. 56, 57. 3. He reconcileth to God, taking away that distance and enmity, 2 Cor. v. 20; and so he is our peace and peacemaker, purchasing access to us to the Father, Eph. ii. 14, 16; iii. 12. 4. He also delivereth from the power of sin and corruption, Rom. vii. 24. 5. And from all those spiritual strokes; such as blindness, hardness of heart, &c. For he is our light; and hath procured a new heart for us, even a heart of flesh. 6. So delivereth he from hell fire, having satisfied justice, and having brought life and immortality to light; and he giveth life eternal, as we see, Rev. ii. 3. Oh! it is sad, that Christ is so little made use of, and that so many will forsake the fountain of living waters, and dig to themselves broken cisterns that can hold no water; and slight, despise, and undervalue the gospel of Christ, which bringeth life and immortality to light. Oh! if the consideration of this could move such as never found any change in themselves, to run to, and make use of Jesus Christ for life; and would for this end, (1.) Cry to him, that he would make them sensible of their deadness, and waken them out of their deep sleep. (2.) Cry to him, to set them a-work to renounce all other help beside his, as being utterly unable to quicken and put life in them. (3.) Cry to him, that he would draw and determine their souls to a closing with him by faith alone, to a hearing of his voice, to an obeying of his call, to a following of his direction, to a giving up of themselves to him, leaning to him, and waiting for all from him alone: in a word, to take him for their life in all points, and to lean to him for life, and to expect it from him, through faith in the promises of the gospel. _Next._ This being spoken to the disciples, whom we suppose to have been believers, it will give us ground to speak of it, in reference to believers, and so yield three points of truth, which we shall briefly touch, and then come to speak of use-making of Christ as the Life, in some particular cases. _First._ It is here clearly presupposed, that even believers have need of Christ to be life unto them; and so have their fits of deadness. If it were not so, why would Christ have said to believers, that he was life? And daily experience doth abundantly confirm it. For, 1. They are oft so weak and unable to resist temptation, or to go about any commanded duty, as if they were quite dead. 2. They are oft so borne down with discouragement, because of the strength of opposition which they meet with on all hands; and because of the manifold disappointments which they meet with, that they have neither heart nor hand; and they faint and set up in the ways of the Lord; and cannot go through difficulties, but oftentimes lie by. 3. Through daily fighting, and seeing no victory, they become weary and faint-hearted; so that they lie by as dead, Isa. xl. 29. 4. They oft fall sick and decay, and have need of restoration and quickening. 5. The want of the sense of God's favour, and of the comforts of the Holy Ghost, maketh them to dwine and droop, and look out as dead. 6. While under soul desertions upon one account or other, they look upon themselves as free among the dead, that is, as dead men, of the society of the dead, with Heman, Psalm lxxxviii. 7. Yea, many times they are as dead men, led captive in chains of unbelief and corruptions, as we see David was, when his heart panted, and his strength failed him, and the light of his eyes were gone from him, Psalm xxxviii. 10. 8. Many times the frequent changes, and ups and downs they meet with, take all courage and heart from them, that they become like men tossed at sea, so as they have no more strength. And many such things befall them, which make them look as dead, and to stand in need of quickening, reviving and strengthening cordials from him who is the life. And thus the Lord thinketh good to dispense with his own people, (1.) That they may be kept humble, and know themselves to be indigent creatures, needing influences of life daily. (2.) That they may have many errands to him who is the life, and have much to do with him, and depend upon him continually. (3.) That he may show himself wonderful, in and about them, giving proof of his skill in quickening the dead, and in bringing such through unto everlasting life, who were daily, as it were, giving up the ghost, and at the point of death. (4.) That heaven may be heaven; that is, a place "where the weary are at rest," Job iii. 17; and the troubled rest, 2 Thes. i. 7; and where the inhabitants shall not say they are sick, Isa. xxxiii. 24. (5.) That they may be taught more the life of faith and of dependence on him, and trained up in that way. (6.) That he may be owned, acknowledged, and submitted unto as a sovereign God, doing what he will in heaven and in earth. For all this, there is no cause that any should take up any prejudice at Christianity: for, for all this their life is sure, and the outgate is sure and safe. Nor would they think it strange, to see believers oft mourning and drooping, seeing their case will oft fall for new supplies of life. Their fits are not known to every one; nor doth every one know what lieth sometimes at their heart; nor would they think it such an easy matter to win to heaven as they imagine; and so deceive themselves. The righteous are saved through many deaths. And as for believers, they would not think it strange to meet with such fits of deadness; nor thence conclude, that all their former work was but delusion, and that they are still in the state of nature. But rather observe the wisdom, faithfulness, and power of God in bringing their broken ship through so much broken water, yea, and shipwrecks; and his goodness in ordering matters so as they shall be kept humble, watchful, diligent and constant in dependence upon him who is and must be their life, first and last. And hence learn a necessity of living always near to Christ, and depending constantly upon him by faith; for he being their life, they cannot be without him, but they must die and decay. _Second._ We hence learn, that under all these fits of deadness to which his people are subject, nothing without Christ will help: Not, 1. All their pains in and about ordinary means, prayer, reading, hearing, meditation, conference, &c. They will all cry out, that help is not in them: for he is the life. 2. Nor extraordinary duties, such as fasting and prayer, and vows,--these will never revive and quicken a drooping or fainting sickly soul: for they are not Christ, nor the life. 3. Nor will a stout courageous spirit and resolution of heart avail. If he who is the Life, breathe not, all that will melt away and evanish. 4. Nor will the stock of habitual grace which remaineth in the soul, be sufficient to quicken and revive the sick soul, if the Life breathe not on these habits; and if new influences of life and strength flow not in upon the soul, and new rays come not down from this Sun of Righteousness to warm the frozen soul, the habits will lie by as dead. 5. Far less will their great gifts and endowments help them out of that dead condition; all their light and knowledge, without the influences of this Life, will prove weak and insufficient for this end and purpose. 6. Nor will sound, pure and lively-like ordinances work out this effect; for till he look down, all these ordinances may prove dead and deadening to them. It were good if believers were living under the conviction of this daily, and by their practice and carriage declaring if they believe, that Christ only is the Life, and that they must live in him, and be quickened and revived through him alone. _Third_. We see hence, that Christ is the Life, that is, one that sufficiently, yea, and abundantly can help the believer while under those fits of deadness which have been mentioned, and the like. There is in him a rich supply of things that tend to revive, encourage, strengthen and enliven a soul under spiritual deadness and fainting. Therefore is he called the Life; as having in him all that which is necessary for and answerable to souls under spiritual sicknesses, distempers, desertions, fainting and swooning fits, &c., for with him "is the fountain of life," Psalm xxxvi. 9; "and he it is that upholdeth the soul in life," Psalm lxvi. 9; "and can command the blessing, even life for ever more," Psalm cxxxiii. 3. For further clearing of this, we would consider those things, 1. That he is God, equal with the Father in power and glory, and thereby "hath life in himself," John v. 26; and can "quicken whom he will," ver. 21. By this he proveth his own Godhead and equality with the Father; so, John i. 4, it is said, "that in him was life," and that life was the light of men, whereby also his Godhead is confirmed. This should be firmly believed, and rooted in our hearts, as being the ground of all our hope, comfort, and life: For, were it not so, that our Mediator were the true God, all our hopes were gone, our comforts could not be long lived, and our life were extinct. 2. As Mediator God-man, he is fully and thoroughly furnished to quicken and enliven his members and followers, first and last; and all along their life must be hid with Christ in God; "for in him dwelleth the Fulness of the Godhead bodily," Col. ii. 9; as Mediator, he is called "a tree of life," Prov. iii. 18; quickening and enlivening all that feed upon him; and "the bread of life," John vi. 35, 48. Yea, because of power and authority to command life to the dead soul, he is called "the Prince of life," Acts iii. 15; and as a living, quickening stone, he giveth life to all that are built upon him, 1 Pet. ii. 4. Yea, as being fully fitted and furnished for this work, he calleth himself "the resurrection and the life," John xi. 25. This should be riveted in our hearts, as a comfortable and encouraging truth. 3. Of this stock of life and quickening and reviving grace which he hath got, and is furnished withal as Mediator and Redeemer of his people, he is communicative,--"of his fulness do we receive, and grace for grace," John i. 16. He got it that he might give it out, and that from him as a head it might flow unto his members, and therefore he is the bread that came down from heaven, and giveth life to the world, John vi. 35. Yea, he giveth eternal life to all his sheep, John x. 28; and he is come for this end, that his sheep might have life, John x. 10. Therefore hath he taken on such relations, as may give ground of confirmation of this, as of a head, of a stock or root, and the like. This consideration is strengthening and reviving. 4. He communicateth of this stock of life, and of reviving strength, which he hath most sweetly and on most easy terms. So that, (1.) Such as seek him shall find life by him, Psalm lxix. 32. (2.) Yea, such as know him shall not miss life, John xvii. 3. 1 John v. 20. (3.) If we will believe on him and rest upon him, we have life first and last, John iii. 15, 16, 36; vi. 40, 47. 1 Tim. i. 16. (4.) If we will come to him, John v. 40, and cast our dead soul upon him, we shall live. (5.) If we will hear his voice, Isa. lv. 3, and receive his instructions, we shall live; for they are the instructions of life. (6.) Nay, if the soul be so dead, that it can neither walk nor hear, if it can but look to him, he will give life, Isa. xlv. 22. (7.) And if the soul be so weak, that it cannot look, nor lift up its eyes; yet if it be willing, he will come with life. Rev. xxii. 17. Oh, if this were believed! 5. As he is communicative of that life which he hath gotten as head, and that upon easy terms; so he giveth out of that life liberally, largely, abundantly, yea, more abundantly, John x. 10. The water of life which he giveth, is "a well of water springing up to everlasting life," John iv. 14. Therefore he alloweth his friends to drink abundantly, Cant. v. 1. 6. Yet it would be remembered, that he is Lord and master thereof, and Prince of this life, and so may dispense it and give it out, in what measure he seeth fit; and he is wise to measure out best for his own glory, and to their advantage. 7. All this life is sure in him,--none of his shall be disappointed thereof. His offices, which he hath taken on; and his commission, which he hath of the Father, abundantly clear this; and love to his, will not suffer him to keep up any thing that is for their advantage. He is faithful in his house as a son, and will do all that was committed unto him to do. The whole transaction of the covenant of redemption, and suretyship, and all the promises of the new covenant of grace, confirm this to be a sure truth; so that they that have him have life, 1 John v. 12. Prov. viii. 35. 8. Yea, all that is in Christ contributeth to this life and quickening. His words and doctrine are the words of eternal life, John vi. 63, 68. Phil. ii. 16. His works and ways are the ways of life, Acts ii. 28. His natures, offices, sufferings, actings, all he did as Mediator, concur to the quickening and enlivening of a poor dead soul. 9. This fulness of life which he hath, is fully suited to the believer's condition, in all points, as we shall hear. 10. This life is eminently and transcendently in him, and exclusively of all others. It is in him, and in him alone; and it is in him in a most excellent manner: So that he is the life, in the abstract; not only a living head, and an enlivening head; but life itself, the life, the "resurrection and the life." CHAPTER XX. SOME GENERAL USES. Before we come to speak of some particular cases of deadness, wherein believers are to make use of Christ as the Life, we shall first propose some useful consequences and deductions from what hath been spoken of this life; and, I. The faith of those things, which have been mentioned, would be of great use and advantage to believers; and therefore they should study to have the faith of this truth fixed on their hearts, and a deep impression thereof on their spirits, to the end, that, 1. Be their case and condition what it will, they might be kept from despair, and despondency of spirit, from giving over their case as hopeless; and from looking upon themselves as irremediably gone. The faith of Christ being life, and the life, would keep up the soul in hope, and cause it say,--how dead soever my case be, yet life can help me, and he who is the resurrection and the life, can recover me. 2. Yea, be their case and condition what it will, they would have here some ground of encouragement, to go to him with their dead soul, and to look to him for help, seeing he is the Life, as Mediator, to the end he might enliven and quicken his dead, fainting, swooning members, and to recover them from their deadness. 3. They might be freed from many scruples and objections that scar and discourage them. This one truth believed would clear up the way so, as that such things, as would have been impediments and objections before, shall evanish, and be rolled out of the way now: Such as, the objections taken from their own worthlessness, their long continuance in that dead condition, and the like. 4. They might hereby likewise be freed from that dreadful plague and evil of jealousy, whereby the soul is oft kept back from coming to Christ: For they fear he will not make them welcome; they doubt of his love and tenderness, and question his pity and compassion; yea, their jealousy maketh them to doubt of his faithfulness; so that the faith of this truth would cure this jealousy, and deliver the soul therefrom, and open a way for the soul to come forward with boldness and confidence. 5. They might also be hereby helped to wait with patience, and to be still and quiet under the Lord's various dispensations; so as they would not fret nor repine against him, knowing that he would prove himself to be Life, even the Life, in his own good time; so that the soul would patiently wait at his door, till he were pleased to look out, and with his look convey life into their dead soul. 6. They might be preserved hereby from looking out to or expecting any help from any other quarter: knowing that he alone is the Life; and so that help can no where else be had. The faith of this truth would guard from any sinistrous ways which the soul, in a time of strait, is ready to run to for relief: for hereby would it see that neither instruments nor means, nor outward administrations, nor any thing of that kind, can quicken their dead soul; and that he, and he alone must breathe in life into them, as at first, so now again. II. May we not see and observe here great matter of admiration at the goodness and rich bounty of God towards his people, who hath found out and condescended upon such a sure, safe, and satisfying way, whereby he becometh all things to his people which they stand in need of; and that notwithstanding, 1. That we are most unworthy of any such dispensation of grace at his hands. 2. That we too oft are too desirous of other guests in our hearts beside him: O how much corruption, sin and death lodge within our souls! and how more desirous are we ofttimes of death than of life! 3. That we little improve the noble advantages for life which we have granted unto us; yea, many a time we abuse them; and this he did foresee, and yet notwithstanding would condescend unto us. 4. That we do little express our thankfulness for such mercies. But not for our sakes hath he done this, but for his own name's sake: For noble and holy ends hath he resolved on this course; as, (1.) That he might be "all in all," Col. iii. 11, and they nothing; that he alone might fill all in all, Eph. i. ult., and they be empty and nothing without him. (2.) That he might wear the glory of all; "for of him, and through him, and to him are all things," Rom. xi. 36, and that no man might share therein. (3.) That man might be his everlasting debtor, and cast down, in testimony thereof, his crown at his feet, "who sitteth on the throne," as those did, Rev. iv. 10, and might cry out with these same elders, ver. 11, "Thou art worthy, O Lord, to receive glory, and honour, and power," &c.; and with those, chap. v. 12, "Worthy is the Lamb that was slain, to receive power, and riches, and wisdom, and strength, and honour, and blessing." (4.) That man's mouth might be stopped for ever, and all boasting excluded; for man is a proud creature, and ready to boast of that which is nothing and vanity. Now God hath chosen this noble way of the covenant of grace, that no man might boast any more. Where is boasting then? It is excluded. By what law? By the law of works? no, but by the law of faith, saith the apostle, Rom. iii. 24. (5.) That all might be sure to the poor chosen believer. The Lord will not have the stock of life, any longer to be in a man's own hand: for even Adam, in the state of innocency, could not use it well, but made shipwreck thereof, and turned a bankrupt; much more would man now do so, in this state of sin, in which he lieth at present, therefore hath God, out of love and tenderness to his chosen ones, put all their stock in the hand of Christ, who is better able to manage it, to God's glory and man's advantage, being faithful in all things, and a trusty servant, "having the fulness of the Godhead dwelling in him bodily." "Therefore," saith the apostle, Rom. iv. 16. "it is of faith, that it might be by grace; to the end, the promises might be sure to all the seed." (6.) That believers might have strong consolation, notwithstanding of all the opposition of enemies without and within, when they see that now their "life is hid with Christ in God," Col. iii. 3, and that their life is in their head, they will not fear so much devils and men without, nor their own dead and corrupt hearts within. III. How inexcusable must all such be, 1. Who will not lay hold on this life, on Jesus who is the Life, sure life, yea, everlasting life. 2. Who seek life any other way, than by and through him who is the Life. 3. Who oppose this way of life, and not only reject the offers of it, but prove enemies to it, and to all that carry it or preach it. IV. Here is strong encouragement to all that would be at heaven, to enter into this gospel, which is a way of life; such need not fear that their salvation shall not be advanced; let Satan and all their adversaries do what they can, all that enter into this way shall live. For the way itself is life, and nothing but life. So that here all objections are obviated; life can answer all. If the believer fear, that he shall never win through difficulties, he shall die by the way; or by fainting, succumbing and swooning, dishonour the profession, and at length fall off and apostatize, or despair and give over all hope; here is that which may answer and obviate all, "I am the life;" and who can perish in the way which is the way of life, an enlivening way, yea, the way which is life itself; yea, the life in a singular and eminent manner? V. Here is ground of reproof even of believers, who, though they have come to Christ, yet do not live in him as they ought, do not walk in him with that liveliness and activity which is called for; but, 1. Lean too much to their own understanding, gifts or graces; and think thereby to ride out storms, and to wide through all difficulties, while as, if he who is the Life do not breathe upon us, all that will fail us in the day of trial. Our understanding and parts or gifts may dry up, and our graces may wither and decay, and go backward. 2. Rest too much on duties; when they should in them go to him who is the Life. For only in him is life to be had; and him should they seek to in the ordinances, that they might have life from him in those outward duties; and this appeareth in their way of going about duties, without that dependence on him, and single eyeing of him, which is called for. As also by their freting and repining, when duties do not their business, as if life lay all in duties; and concluding all will be right, because they get duties somewhat tolerably performed; and, on the contrary, desponding, when duties fall heavy on them, and they find themselves indisposed for duty. All which clearly evinceth, that they lay too much weight on duties; while as it would be otherwise with them, if they were purely depending on Christ, and looking for all from him. 3. Despond too soon, because they get not help and relief instantly; or because they are not preserved from every degree of fainting. 4. Neglect to make use of him, and to come to him with all their wants, failings and necessities, as they ought; or come not with that freedom and boldness which the gospel grounds allow. VI. This preacheth out the woful misery of such as are strangers to Christ. For being strangers to the Life, they have no life, they are dead, and death is engraven on all they do; even though, 1. They should be very diligent in external duties, yea, and outstrip many true believers; as the Pharisees had their fasts twice a-week, Luke xviii. 2. They should be eminently gifted, able to instruct others, and to speak of the mysteries of the gospel, to purpose and to edification. For such gifts of knowledge and utterance may be, where the lively operations of the grace of Christ are not, and consequently where Christ is not, as the Life. 3. They should seem eminent in all their outward carriage, and seem to carry most christianly in all their walk, and appear most devout in the matter of worship. 4. And they should have something more than ordinary; even taste of the heavenly gift, and be made partakers of extraordinary gifts of the Holy Ghost; yea, and taste the good word of God, and the powers of the world to come, Heb. vi. 4, 5. VII. This discovereth the noble advantage of such as have accepted of Christ for their life. Their condition is happy, sure, desirable, and thriving; for Christ is theirs, and life is theirs; because Christ, who is the Life, is theirs. _Obj._ 1. But some wicked persons may say, We see not that happy and advantageous condition of such as go for believers; for we observe them to be as little lively ofttimes as others, and as unfit for duties; yea, and sometimes as much subject to sin and corruption as others. _Ans._ 1. However it be with them, either in thine eyes, or possibly in their own sometimes, yet thou mayest hold thy peace; for in their worst condition, they would not exchange with thee for a world; in their deadest-like condition, they are not void of all life, as thou art, notwithstanding all thy motions, and seeming activeness in duty; because all thy motion in and about duty is but like the moving of children's puppets, caused by external motives, such as a name, applause, peace from a natural conscience, or the like; and not from any inward principle of grace and life. 2. Howbeit they sometimes seem to be dead, yet they are not always so; life doth really work sometimes in them; whereas there was never any true or kindly motion of life in thee. 3. There may be more life in them, yea, life in motion, when they seem to be overcome with some lusts or corruption, yea, when really they are overcome, than beholders that are strangers to the heart can observe. For when temptation is violent, as having the advantage of the time and place, of the constitution of the body, and the like, it argueth no small degree of life, and of life in motion, to make some resistance and opposition thereunto, though at length he should be overcome thereby. And this opposition and resistance, flowing from a principle of grace, speaketh out life, though corruption, having the advantage, should at that time overpower the motion of life, and carry the man away. 4. If it be not otherwise with believers than is objected, they may blame themselves, for not improving Christ better for life. _Object._ But some who are true believers will object the same, and cry out of themselves as dead; and say, They find not that liveliness and activity in their souls, that will evidence Christ, the Life, dwelling and working in them. _Ans._ It may be they prejudge themselves of that lively frame they might enjoy, and so wrong themselves: 1. In not exercising faith on Christ, and drawing life from him and through him. The life which they live should be by faith, Gal. ii. 20. How then can such as do not eat become fat? by faith we feed on Christ. 2. In not watching, but giving way to security, and thereby encouraging and strengthening the adversary, as we see in David; when they stand not on their watch-tower, they invite Satan to set on; and he is vigilant enough, and knoweth how to take his advantage, and to improve his opportunity. 3. In giving way to laziness and not stirring up themselves, as we see in the bride, Cant. iii. 1; v. 3; when they stir not up the grace of God which is in them, how can they be lively? If grace be laid by, it will contract rust. The best way to keep grace lively, is to keep it in exercise, how little soever it be. 4. By their rashness, walking without fear, as is to be observed in Peter, when he slipped so foully. When through their want of circumspection, they precipitate themselves into danger, and cast themselves among their enemies' hands, is it any wonder, that it go not with them as they would; and that they provoke God to leave them to themselves; that they may know what they are, and learn afterwards not to tempt the Lord, and to walk more circumspectly? 5. By leaning too much to their attainments, and not looking out for new influences of grace and life. Hereby they provoke God to let them know to their expense, that for as great a length as they are come, they must live by faith, and be quickened by new influences from the Spirit of life. 6. So they may wrong themselves through their ignorance of Christ, and of the way of making use of him; and if they, through unacquaintedness with Christ and the right way of improving the fulness that is in him, miss the fruit and advantage which otherwise they might have, they can only blame themselves. 7. They may also prejudge themselves by their self-love, self-esteem, self-seeking, self-pleasing, &c., which piece and piece will draw them off Christ, and cause them forget the way of sucking life from him, who is the fountain of life. 8. When they give way to small sins, they open a door to greater; and they lose thereby their tenderness, and so provoke the Lord to withdraw; and this is another way, whereby they prejudge themselves of that benefit of liveliness, which they might otherwise have. 9. So also by worldly-mindedness, which alienateth their mind from God; and, 10. By their impatience, and fretting, and repining against God, and his wise dispensations, they also prejudge and wrong themselves; for while they are in that mood, they cannot with due composedness of Spirit, go to Christ, and draw life from him through faith. _Obj._ 3. But is there not even some of those who are most tender, that complain of their deadness and shortcomings? _Ans._ 1. It may be that they complain without cause; and that they have more cause of rejoicing, and of blessing the Lord for what he hath done to them, than of complaining. 2. Their complaining will not prove the want of life, but rather the contrary. For when they complain most, they must be most sensible if their complaints be real, and not merely for a fashion; and sense is a manifest evidence of life. 3. It would be remembered, that the Lord can make their failings and shortcomings contribute to the furthering of their life, as we see it did in Peter. 4. It would also be remembered, that Christ doth not distribute and give out of this life to all his members and followers, in a like measure; but to some more, and to others less, according as he seeth it meet and convenient, both for his own glory and their good, He hath more service for some than for others; and some he will employ in greater and more difficult work, which will call for more life; and others he will employ in common work, which will not call for such an eminent degree of life. 5. And upon the same account, he may think it good to give to the same person a larger measure of grace at one time than at another. 6. And that for wise reasons and noble ends; as, (1.) That all may see how absolute he is in his dispensations; a sovereign that doth with his own what he will, and will not give an account of any of his ways or communications to us. (2.) That we may learn submission, and quietly to stoop before him, whatever measure he be pleased to dispense towards us. (3.) That we may learn to depend upon him more closely all along; in all our ways to acknowledge him. (4.) That we may learn to exercise patience, which must have its perfect work, in waiting upon him as a great king. This is his glory, and it is the testifying of our homage to him. (5.) He will train us up so as to be well contented and satisfied, if he bring us home at length, though not with such a convoy of the graces of his Spirit as we would wish. (6.) That we may see and read our daily obligation to Christ our life, and the daily need we have of his keeping our life in, by fresh gales of his Spirit, and new heavenly influences. (7.) And that getting new proofs of his kindness and faithfulness, we may give him new songs of praise daily, and so express our thankfulness to him, which will tend to set forth his glory. VIII. This may point out unto believers, several duties to which they are called. We shall name some few of many; as, 1. That they should rejoice, and be comforted in the thoughts of this, that they have such a complete Mediator, one that is thoroughly furnished, and made all things for them; not only the Way, and the Truth, but the Life also. 2. The thoughts of this should also stir up the wondering at the wisdom, graciousness, and goodness of God; and to thankfulness for providing such an all-sufficient way for them. 3. This should also encourage them under all temptations, faintings, backsets, and fits of deadness that they fall into, that there is one who is the Life; and that he whom their soul hath chosen is the Life, and so fully able to quicken and enliven them. 4. This should teach them humility, and not to be proud of any thing they have or do; for it is he, who is the Life, who keepeth them in life, and helpeth them to any duty; yea, it is life that worketh all in them. 5. And likewise it should teach them to acknowledge him, to whom they are obliged for any thing they do, for any life they have, or any acts or fruits of life that appear in them; and to be thankful to him therefor. 6. And mainly, they should here read their obligation and duty, to improve this advantage, and to draw life out of this fountain, and so live by this life; act and do all in and through this life; and so be quickened by this life, in all their fits of deadness; and for this cause would keep those things in mind: (1.) That they should live in a constant conviction of their own weakness, deadness, and inability to do any acts of life of themselves; and far less to recover themselves out of any distemper and fit of deadness which they fall into. (2.) That they should live in the faith of this, that there is life enough in him, who is the Life, to do their business. They should be persuaded of his all-sufficiency. (3.) That he is not only an all-sufficient deliverer, able to deliver a soul that is, as it were, rotting in the grave, and to cause the dead to hear his voice and live; but also most willing and ready to answer them in all their necessities, according to wisdom, and as he seeth it for his glory, and their soul's advantage. The faith of this is necessary, and will be very encouraging. (4.) That they should go to him, how dead-like soever their condition be, and by faith roll their dead case upon him, who is the Life. (5.) That they should pray upon the promises of grace and influence, even out of the belly of hell, or of the grave, with Jonah, chap. ii. 2; for he is faithful and true, and tender-hearted, and will hear and give a good answer at length. (6.) That in the exercise of faith and prayer, they should wait with patience, till he be pleased to come, and breathe upon the dry bones, and till the Sun of Righteousness arise on their souls with healing in his wings. But of this more particularly in the following cases, which now we come to speak a little unto, of purpose to clear more fully how the believer is to make use of Christ as the Life, when he is under some one distemper or other, that calleth for life and quickening from Christ the Life. We cannot handle distinctly all the particular cases which maybe brought under this head; it will suffice, for clearing of this great duty, to speak to some few. CHAPTER XXI. HOW TO MAKE USE OF CHRIST AS THE LIFE, WHEN THE BELIEVER IS SO SITTEN-UP IN THE WAYS OF GOD, THAT HE CAN DO NOTHING. Sometimes the believer is under such a distemper of weakness and deadness, that there is almost no commanded duty that he can go about; his heart and all is so dead, that he cannot so much as groan under that deadness. Yea, he may be under such a decay, that little or no difference will be observed betwixt him and others that are yet in nature; and be not only unable to go actively and lively about commanded duties, yea, or to wrestle from under that deadness; but also be so dead, that he shall scarce have any effectual desire or longing to be out of that condition. Now, in speaking to the use-making of Christ for quickening in this dead case, we shall do those things: 1. For clearing of the case, we shall show how probably it is brought on. 2. How Christ is life to the soul in such a case as this. 3. How the believer is to make use of Christ for the life, in this case; and, 4. Further clear the matter, by answering a question or two. As to the _first_, such a distemper as this may be brought upon the soul, 1. Through some strong and violent temptation from without, meeting with some evil disposition of the heart within, and so surprising and overpowering the poor soul, as we see in David and Peter. 2. Through the cunning and sleight of Satan, stealing the believer, that is not watchful enough, insensibly off his feet, and singing him asleep by degrees. 3. Through carelessness, in not adverting at first to the beginnings and first degrees of this deadness and upsitting, when the heart beginneth to grow formal and superficial in duties, and to be satisfied with a perfunctorious performance, without life and sense. 4. Through torturing of conscience, in light and smaller matters; for this may provoke God to let conscience fall asleep, and so the soul become more untender, and scruple little, at length, at great matters; and thus deadness may come to a height, God ordering it so, for a further punishment to them, for their untenderness and uncircumspectness. 5. Through their not stirring up themselves, and shaking off that spirit of laziness and drowsiness, when it first seizeth upon them; but, with the sluggard, yet another slumber, and another sleep, and a folding of the hands to sleep. 6. Continuing in some known sin, and not repenting of it, may bring on this distemper, as may be observed in David. As to the _second_ particular, Christ is life to the soul in this case; in that, 1. He keepeth possession of the soul; for the seed remaineth, the root abideth fast in the ground; there is life still at the heart, though the man make no motion, like one in a deep sleep, or in a swoon, yet life is not away. 2. He in due time awakeneth, and rouseth up the soul, and so recovereth it out of that condition, by some means or other, either by some alarm of judgment and terror, as he did David; or dispensation of mercy and tenderness, as he did Peter; and usually he recovereth the soul, (1.) By discovering something of this condition, by giving so much sense and knowledge, and sending so much light, as will let the soul see that it is not well, and that it is under that distemper of lifelessness. (2.) By the discovering the dreadfulness of such a condition, and how hazardous it is to continue therein. (3.) By putting the soul in mind, that he is the life and the resurrection; and through the stirring up of grace, causing the soul to look to him for quickening and outgate. (4.) By raising up the soul at length out of that drowsiness, and sluggish folding of the hands to sleep, and out of that deep security, and putting it into a more lively, vigilant, and active frame. As to the _third_, the believer that would make use of Christ, for a recovery out of this condition, would mind those duties: 1. He would look to Christ, as the light of men, and the enlightener of the blind; to the end, he may get a better and a more thorough discovery of his condition; for it is half health here to be sensible of this disease. The soul that is once brought to sense, is half recovered of this fever and lethargy. 2. He would eye Christ as God, able to cause the dead and dry bones to live, as Ezek. chap. xxvii.; and this will keep from despondency and despair; yea, it will make the poor believer conceive hope, when he seeth that his physician is God, to whom nothing is impossible. 3. He would look to him also, as head and husband, and life to the poor soul that adhereth to him; and this will strengthen his hope and expectation; for he will see that Christ is engaged (to speak so) in point of honour, to quicken a poor dead and lifeless member; for the life in the head is for the good of the whole body, and of every member of the body, that is not quite cut off. And the good that is in the husband is forthcoming for the relief of the poor wife, that hath not yet got a bill of divorce. And Christ being life and the Life, he must be appointed for the relief, the quickening and recovering from death of such as are given to him, that they may be finally raised up at the last day; he must present all his members lively in that day. 4. He would by faith wrap himself up in the promises, and lie before this Sun of Righteousness, till the heat of his beams thaw his frozen heart, and bring warmth into his cold and dead soul, and thus renew his grips of him, accepting of him as the Life, and as his life. Christ himself tells us, John xi. 40, that this is the Father's will, that hath sent him, that every one that seeth the Son, and believeth on him, might have everlasting life, and he will raise him up at the last day. Faith closing with him, as it was the mean of life at first, so it will be the mean of recovery out of a dead distemper afterwards. 5. He would mourn for such sins and provocations, as he discovereth in himself to have caused and brought on this distemper. Repentance and godly sorrow for such evils, as have sinned Christ and life away, is a way to bring life back again. 6. He would be sure to harbour no known sin in his soul, but to set himself against every known evil, as an enemy to the life and recovery which he is seeking. 7. He must wait on Christ his life, in the appointed means; for that is the will of the Lord, that he should be waited upon there, and sought for there. There is little hopes of recovery for such as lay aside the ordinances. Though the ordinances without him cannot revive or quicken a poor soul, yet he hath condescended so far as to come with life to his people in and through the ordinances, and hath appointed us to wait for him there; we must be willing to accept of all his condescensions of love, and seek and wait for him there, where he hath said he will be found. 8. In going about those ordinances of life, he would beware of putting them in Christ's room, _i.e._ he would beware of thinking that ordinances will do his business; as some ignorantly do, who think that by praying so often a-day, and reading so much, and hearing so much, they shall recover their lost lively frame, when, alas! all the ordinances, without him, signify nothing. They, without him, are cold and lifeless, and can never bring heat and warmth to a cold soul. It is he in the ordinances whom we are to seek, and from whom alone life is to be expected, and none else. 9. Though life lieth not in the ordinances as separated from Christ, and life is to be expected from him alone, yet he would beware of going about the ordinances in a careless, superficial, and indifferent manner: for this will argue little desire after life, and will bring on more deadness. The ordinances then should be gone about seriously, diligently, and with great carefulness, yea, with such earnestness as if life were not about the ordinances at all. This is the right way of going about the ordinances. 10. He must in all this wait with patience, without fretting or quarrelling with him for his delaying to come. He must wait with much humility. It becometh not him who hath, through his folly, sinned life away, to quarrel now with God, because he restoreth him not again to life at the first asking. He may be glad if at length, after long seeking, waiting, and much diligence, he come and restore to him the joy of salvation, and if he be not made to lie as bedrid all his days, for a monument of folly in sinning away his life, strength, and legs as he did. 11. He must beware of giving way to any thing that may increase or continue this deadness; such as untenderness in his walk, unwatchfulness, negligence, and carelessness; and especially he must beware not to provoke God by sinning against light. 12. He would also beware of limiting the Lord to any set measure of life and strength: for it becometh not beggars to be carvers, far less such beggars as through folly have sinned away a good portion. It was not for the prodigal to seek a new patrimony, after he had dilapidated the former; it might suffice him to be made as a servant. 13. He would use well any small measure of life he getteth, for God and his glory; getteth he but one talent, he should use it that he may gain thereby: we say, use limbs and have limbs, use strength and have it. This will be the way to get more. 14. He would be taking on the vows of the Lord, and that in the Lord, to walk more watchful in time coming, charging all within and without not to stir or provoke the Lord to depart further or to scare him from coming to the soul. As to the _last_ particular, If it be inquired, 1. What can that soul do that is not sensible of this deadness and weakness? _Ans_. Though there be not any real sense and feeling of this condition, yet there may be a suspicion that all is not right; and if this be, the soul must look out to Christ for the life of sense and for a sight of the provocations that have brought on that condition. He that is the Life must recover the very beginnings of life; and when the soul winneth to any real apprehension and sense of this deadness, it must follow the course formerly prescribed for a recovery. 2. But it will be asked, how can a soul act faith in such a case? And if it cannot act faith, how can it come to Christ and make use of him? _Ans_. It is true, while the soul is in that case, it cannot act a strong and lively faith; yet it can act a weak and a sickly faith; and a weak faith and a sickly faith can lay hold on an enlivening Christ, and so bring in more strength and life to the soul. If the soul be so weak as that it cannot grip, yet it can look to him that can quicken the dead and hath helped many a poor soul before out of a dead condition: or if it cannot do so much as look, yet it may give an half-look, and lie before him who waiteth to be gracious; and sustain itself if it can get no more, with a maybe he shall come. 3. But further, it may be asked, what can the soul do, when, after all this, it findeth no help or supply, but deadness remaining, yea, and it may be, growing? _Ans_. The soul in that case must lie at his door, waiting for his salvation, and resolving, if no better may be, to die at his door, and leave no approved means or commanded duty unessayed, that it may recover its former vigour, activity and strength. And while the believer is waiting thus, he is at his duty; and this may yield him peace, and he may be sure that he shall never be ashamed, Psalm xxv. 3; lxix. 6. Isa. 1. 18. CHAPTER XXII. HOW CHRIST IS TO BE MADE USE OF AS OUR LIFE, IN CASE OF HEARTLESSNESS AND FAINTING THROUGH DISCOURAGEMENTS. There is another evil and distemper which believers are subject to, and that is a case of fainting through manifold discouragements, which make them so heartless that they can do nothing; yea, and to sit up, as if they were dead. The question then is, how such a soul shall make use of Christ as in the end it may be freed from that fit of fainting, and win over those discouragements: for satisfaction to which we shall, 1. Name some of those discouragements which occasion this. 2. Show what Christ hath done to remove all those discouragements. 3. Show how the soul should make use of Christ for life in this case; and, 4. Add a few words of caution. As to the _first_, there are several things which may give occasion to this distemper; we shall name those few: 1. The sense of a strong, active, lively, and continually stirring body of death, and that notwithstanding of means used to bear it down and kill it. This is very discouraging; for it made Paul cry out, "Woe is me, miserable man, who shall deliver me from this body of death?" Rom. vii. 24. It is a most discouraging thing to be still fighting, and yet getting no ease, let be victory; to have to do with an enemy that abides always alike strong, fight and oppose as we will, yea, not only is not weakened, far less overcome, but that groweth in power, and prevaileth. And this many times affecteth the hearts of God's children and causeth them to faint. 2. It may be the case of some, that they are assaulted with strange temptations and buffettings of Satan that are not usual. This made Paul cry out thrice, 2 Cor. xii.; and if the Lord had not told him that his grace was sufficient for him, what would he have done? Hence some of his cry out in their complaint, was there ever any so tempted, so assaulted with the devil, as I am? Sure this dispensation cannot but be much afflicting, saddening and discouraging. 3. The sense of the real weakness of grace under lively means, and notwithstanding of their serious and earnest desires and endeavours after growth in grace, cannot but disquiet and discourage them: for they may readily conclude, that all their pains and labour shall be in vain for any thing they can observe. 4. The want of sensible incomes of joy and comfort is another fainting and discouraging dispensation; as the feeling of these is a heart-strengthening and most encouraging thing, which made David so earnestly cry for it, Psal. li. 8, 12; when a poor soul that hath the testimony of his own conscience, that it hath been in some measure of singleness of heart and honestly seeking the face of God for a good many years, and yet cannot say that ever it knew what those incomes of joy and comfort meant which some have tasted largely of, it cannot choose but be discouraged and much cast down, as not knowing what to say of itself, or how to judge of its own case. 5. The want of access in their addresses to God, is another heart-discouraging thing. They go about the duty of prayer with that measure of earnestness and uprightness of heart that they can win at, at least this is their aim and endeavour, and yet they meet with a fast closed door, when they cry and shout; he shutteth out their prayer, as the church complaineth, Lam. iii. 8. This sure will affect them deeply, and cause their hearts sometimes to faint. 6. The want of freedom and liberty in their addresses to God is another thing which causeth sorrow and fainting. They go to pray, but their tongue cleaveth to the roof of their mouth: they are straitened and cannot get their hearts vented. 7. Outward persecution that attendeth the way of godliness, and afflictions that accompany such as live godly, is another discouraging thing, both to themselves who are under afflictions, and to others who hear it and see it; wherefore the apostle desireth earnestly that the Ephesians should not faint at his tribulation, chap. iii. 13. 8. The Lord's sharp and sore dispensations for sin, as towards David, Psal. li., or out of his sovereignty, for trial and other ends, as towards Job, is likewise a discouraging, heart-breaking thing, and that which will make strong giants to roar and faint, and look upon themselves as dead men, as we see in these two eminent men of God. As to the _second_ thing, Christ is life to the believer in this case, in having done that which in reason may support under all these discouragements, and having done so much for removing or weakening of these; yea, and for carrying them over all, which may be in a word cleared as to each. 1. As for the body of death, let it stir in the believer as fast as it will or can, it is already killed, and all that struggling is but like the struggling of a man in the pangs of death; for our "old man is crucified with Christ," Rom. vi. 6; and the believer is dead to sin and risen legally with him, Col. ii. 11, 12; iii. 3. But of this I spoke abundantly above. 2. As to Satan's troubling the poor believer, through Christ also he is a vanquished enemy: "He hath overcome him that had the power of death, even the devil," Heb. ii. 14. 3. As for that felt weakness of grace, that is no ground of discouragement, so long as he liveth who can make the lame to leap as an hart, and can make waters break out in the wilderness, and streams in the desert, Isa xxxv. 6, 7; "and giveth power to the faint, and to them that have no might increaseth strength; so that such as wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength, and they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run and not be weary, and they shall walk and not faint," Isa. xl. 29, 31. For "in him are all the promises yea and amen," 2 Cor. i. 20. So that they need not faint upon this account, nor be discouraged: for the work he hath begun he will finish it, and he will quicken in the way, Psal. cxix. 37. 4. As for the want of sensible incomes of joy and comfort, he hath promised to send the Comforter, in his own good time, John xiv. 26; xv. 26. "As one whom his Father comforteth, so will he comfort his," Isa. lxvi. 13. Joy and gladness is promised in the covenant, Jer. xxxi. 13. But further, though he keep up these influences of joy and comfort, he supporteth another way. The lively hope of heaven may bear up the heart under all this want: for there shall the soul have fulness of joy and pleasures for evermore: no tears, no sorrow there, Psal. xvi. 11. Isa. xxxv. 10. 5. As for the want of access in their prayers, they may possibly blame themselves, for he has by his merits opened the door; and is become (to speak so) master-usher to the poor soul, to lead him unto the Father, so that "by him we have access," Eph. ii. 18, "yea, boldness and access through faith in him," Eph. iii. 12; "and he is our advocate," 1 John ii. 1; and, as our attorney, is gone to heaven before us; "and there liveth for ever to make intercession," Heb. vi. 28; vii. 25. And what is there more to be done to procure us access; or to move and encourage us to "come boldly unto the throne of grace, that we may obtain mercy, and find grace to help in time of need?" Heb. iv. 14, 16. 6. As to that want of freedom and liberty in prayer; he helpeth that also: For he maketh the dumb to sing, Isa. xxxv. 6, and maketh the tongue of the stammerer to speak elegantly, Isa. xxxii. 4. He can enlarge the heart, and help the soul to pour out his heart before God. 7. As to outward persecution, he can easily take that discouragement away, by giving the hundred-fold with it; by supporting under it, and bringing safe through it. When his presence is with them through fire and water, Isa. xliii. 2, what can trouble them? And when he maketh their consolations abound, 2 Cor. i. 5, what can discourage them? Have not his sung in the very fires; and rejoiced in all their afflictions? The resting of the Spirit of God and of glory, which Peter speaketh of, 1 Pet. iv. 14, is comfortable enough. 8. As for all those sharp dispensations mentioned in the last place, he having taken the sting of all, even of death away, by taking away sin, and purchased the blessing and love of the Father, having made reconciliation through his blood, all those dispensations flow from love, even such as seem sharpest, being inflicted for sin, as we see, Heb. xii. 6; so that there is no cause here of fainting or of being so discouraged as to give over the matter. But for help in this case, there should be a use-making of Jesus, as the Life; and that is The _third_ thing which we shall speak a little to, viz. How the soul should make use of Christ as the Life, to the end it may be delivered from this fainting occasioned through manifold discouragements. 1. The believer in this case would mind the covenant of redemption, wherein Christ hath promised and so standeth obliged and engaged to carry on his own through all discouragements to the end; so that if any one believer miscarry, Christ loseth more than they lose: for the believer can but lose his soul, but Christ shall lose his glory; and this is more worth than all the souls that ever were created. And, further, not only shall Christ lose his glory as Redeemer, but the Father shall lose his glory in not making good his promise to Christ his Son. For by the same covenant he standeth engaged to carry through the seed that Christ had died for. And his appointing Christ to be his servant for this end, and choosing him from among all the folk, and his upholding of him, concurring with him, delighting in him, and promising that he shall bring forth judgment to the Gentiles, and that to victory, or to truth, speak out his engagement to see all true believers brought home. See Isa. xlii. 1-4. Matt. xii. 17-21. Psalm lxxxix. 19-21, 28, 29, 35-37. Sure the faith of this would support the poor believer under all those discouragements. 2. They would mind likewise the covenant of grace, wherein all things are contrived and laid down, so far as that the believer may have abundant consolation and comfort in all cases; and wherein there is enough to take away all cause of fainting and discouragement; as might fully be made to appear, if any did question it. 3. They would remember how richly Christ is furnished with all qualifications; suiting even that case wherein they are like to be overwhelmed with discouragements; and could the believer but think upon and believe those three things, he might be kept up under all discouragements: (1.) That Christ is a compassionate, tender-hearted Mediator, having bowels more tender than the bowels of any mother; so that "he will not break the bruised reed, nor quench the smoking flax," Isa. xl. 2. He had compassion on the very bodies of the multitude that followed him; and would not let them go away fasting, lest they should faint in the way, Matt. xv. 32. Mark viii. 3; and will he not have compassion on the souls of his followers, when like to faint through spiritual discouragements? (2.) That he hath power and authority to command all things that can serve to carry on a poor believer; for all power in heaven and in earth is given unto him; all things are made subject to him. (3.) That he hath a great readiness and willingness upon many accounts to help his followers in their necessities. Sure, were these three firmly believed, the believer could not faint, having Christ, who is tender and loving, and willing to help, and withal able to do what he will, to look to and to run to for supply. 4. They would take up Christ under all his heart-strengthening and soul-comforting relations, as a tender brother, a careful shepherd, a fellow-feeling high priest, a loving husband, a sympathizing head, a life-communicating root, an all-sufficient king, &c., any of which is enough to bear up the head, and comfort the heart of a drooping, discouraged, and fainting soul. Much more may all of them yield strong consolation to support and revive a soul staggering and fainting through discouragement. Oh! if ye would but rightly improve and dwell upon the thoughts of the comforting and heart-quickening relations! our hearts would not fail us so much as they do. 5. They would eye him as now in glory, who as head and captain of salvation hath wrestled through and overcome all difficulties and discouragements that were in his way, and in name and behalf of all believers that are his followers and members of his body, is now possessed of glory, and thence draw an heart-comforting, and soul-strengthening conclusion, thus, Is he entered into glory as head? then such a poor, faint-hearted, discouraged worm as I am, may at length come there as a little bit of his body, especially since he said, that seeing he liveth, all his shall live also, John xiv. 19. 6. They would remember how Christ, who was always heard of his Father, John xi. 41, did supplicate for this, as Mediator and Intercessor for his people, John xvii. 24, saying, "Father, I will that they also whom thou hast given me, be with me where I am," &c. May not the poor faint-hearted believer that is looking to Jesus, draw an heart-reviving, and soul-encouraging conclusion out of this, and say, though my prayers be shut out, and when I cry for relief under my discouragements, I get no hearing; but, on the contrary, my discouragements grow, and my heart fainteth the more; yet Christ always was heard, and the Father will not say him nay; why then may not I lift up my head in hope, and sing in the hope of the glory of God, in the midst of all my discouragements? 7. By faith they would cast all their discouragements, entanglements, and difficulties, as burdens too heavy for their back, on Christ, and leave them there with him who only can remove them; and withal, resolve never to give over, but to go forward in his strength, and thus become daily stronger and stronger in resolutions, purposes, desires, and endeavours, when they can do no more. 8. They would look to Jesus, the author and finisher of faith, and set him before them as a copy of courage, "who for the joy that was set before him, endured the cross, despising the shame," and endureth contradiction of sinners against himself, Heb. xii. 2, 3. And this may prove a mean to keep us from wearying and fainting in our minds, as the apostle hinteth there. 9. They would remember, that Christ going before, as the Captain of their salvation, hath broken the ice to them, and the force and strength of all those discouragements, as we did lately show; so that now they should be looked upon as broken and powerless discouragements. 10. They would fix their eye by faith on Jesus, as only able to do their business, to bear up their head, to carry them through discouragements, to apply cordials to their fainting hearts, and remain fixed in that posture and resolution, looking for strengthening and encouraging life from him, and from him alone; and thus declare, that, (1.) They are unable of themselves to stand out such storms of discouragements, and to wrestle through such difficulties. (2.) They believe he is only able to bear them up, and carry them through, and make them despise all those discouragements which the devil and their own evil hearts muster up against them. (3.) That come what will come, they will not quit the bargain--they will never recall or take back their subscription and consent to the covenant of grace, and to Christ, as theirs, offered therein, though they should die and die again by the way. (4.) That they would fain be kept on in the way, and helped forward without failing and fainting by the way. (5.) That they cannot run through hard walls--they cannot do impossibilities--they cannot break through such mighty discouragements. (6.) That yet through him they can do all things. (7.) That he must help, or they are gone, and shall never win through all these difficulties and discouragements, but shall one day or other die by the hand of Saul. (8.) That they will wait, earnestly seeking help from him, crying for it, and looking for it, and resolve never to give over, and if they be disappointed they are disappointed. Now for the _last_ particular, the word of caution, take these, 1. They would not think to be altogether free of fainting, for there is no perfection here, and there is much flesh and corruption remaining, and that will occasion fainting. 2. Nor would they think to be free of all the causes and occasions of this fainting, viz. the discouragements formerly mentioned, or the like; for, if the devil can do any thing, he will work discouragements, both within and without. So that they would lay their resolution to meet with discouragements; for few or none ever went to heaven but they had many a storm in their face; and they must not think to have a way paved for themselves alone. 3. They would not pore too much, or dwell too long and too much upon the thoughts of those discouragements; for that is Satan's advantage, and tendeth to weaken themselves. But it were better to be looking beyond them, as Christ did, Heb. xii. 2, when he had the cross and the shame to wrestle with, he looked to the joy that was set before him; and that made him endure the cross and despise the shame; and as Moses did, Heb. xi. 25-27, when he had afflictions and the wrath of the king to wrestle against; he had respect unto the recompense of the reward, and so he endured as seeing him who is invisible. 4. They would remember that as Christ hath tender bowels, and is full of compassion, and is both ready and able to help them; so is he wise, and knoweth how to let out his mercies best. He is not like a foolish, affectionate mother, that would hazard the life of the child, before she put the child to any pain. He seeth what is best for his own glory, and for their good here and hereafter; and that he will do with much tenderness and readiness. 5. They would look upon it as no mean mercy, if, notwithstanding of all the discouragements and storms that blow in their face, they are helped to keep their face up the hill, and are fixed in their resolution, never willingly to turn their back upon the way of God, but to continue creeping forward as they may, whatever storms they meet with; yea, upon this account ought they heartily to bless his name, and to rejoice; for "their hearts shall live that seek him," Psalm xxii. 26. 6. They would remember, for their encouragement, that as many have been helped through all discouragements, and have been brought home at length, so may they be brought through all those storms which now they wrestle with. It is the glory of the Mediator to bring his broken, torn, and sinking vessel, safe to shore. Now, I come to a third case, and that is, CHAPTER XXIII. HOW TO MAKE USE OF CHRIST AS THE LIFE WHEN THE SOUL IS DEAD AS TO DUTY. Sometimes the believer will be under such a distemper, as that he will be as unfit and unable for discharging of any commanded duty, as dead men, or one in a swoon, is to work or go a journey. And it were good to know how Christ should be made use of as the Life, to the end the diseased soul may be delivered from this. For this cause we shall consider those four things: 1. See what are the several steps and degrees of this distemper. 2. Consider whence it cometh, or what are the causes or occasions thereof. 3. Consider how Christ is life to the soul in such a dead case; and, 4. Point out the way of the soul's use-making of Christ, that would be delivered herefrom. As to the _first_, this distemper cometh on by several steps and degrees. It will be sufficient to mention some of the main and most remarkable steps; such as, 1. There is a falling from our watchfulness and tenderness; and when we leave our watch tower, we invite and encourage Satan to set upon us, as was said before. 2. There is going about duty, but in a lazy way, when we love and seek after carnal ease, and seek out ways of doing the duty, so as maybe least troublesome to the flesh, as the spouse did, Cant. iii. 1, when she sought her beloved upon her bed. 3. There is a lying by, and not stirring up ourselves to an active way of going about duty, of which the prophet complaineth, Isa. liv. 7, when he saith, there is none that stirreth up himself to take hold of thee. 4. There is a giving way to spiritual drowsiness, and upsitting in duties, and in the way of God. "I sleep," said the spouse, Cant. v. 2, 3, and "I have put off my coat," &c. She knew she was not right, but was drowsy, and yet she did not shake it off, but composed herself for it, took off her coat, and washed her feet, and so lay down to sleep. 5. There is a satisfaction and contentment with his condition, as thinking we are pretty well, at least for that time; and thus was the spouse in that forementioned place led away; she was so far from being dissatisfied with her condition, that she rather expressed contentment therewith. 6. There may be such a love to such a condition, and such a satisfaction in it, as that they may shift every thing that hath a tendency to rouse them up out of that sluggish laziness, as not loving to be awakened out of their sleep. So we see the bride shifts and putteth off Christ's call and invitation to her, to arise and open to him. 7. Yea, there is a defending of that condition, as at least tolerable and none of the worst; a justifying of it, or at least a pleading for themselves and excusing the matter, and covering over their neglect of duty with fair pretexts, as the spouse did when she answered Christ's call with this, that she had washed her feet and might not defile them again. 8. Yea, further, there is a pleading for this case, by alleging an impossibility to get it helped as matters now stand; or, at least, they will muster up insuperable-like difficulties in their own way of doing duty, as the sluggard will say, that there is a lion in the way; and the spouse alleged she could not put on her coat again. 9. Yea, it may come yet higher, even to a peremptory refusing to set about the duty; for what else can be read out of the bride's carriage, than that she would not rise and open to her beloved. 10. There is also a desperate laying the duty aside, as supposing it impossible to be got done, and so a resolute laying of it by as hopeless, and as a business they need not trouble themselves withal, because they will not get through it. 11. And hence floweth an utter indisposition and unfitness for duty. 12. Yea, and in some it may come to this height, that the thoughts of going about any commanded duty, especially of worship, either in public or private; or their minting and attempting to set about it, shall fill them with terror and affrightment, that they shall be constrained to forbear; yea, to lay aside all thoughts of going about any such duty. This is a very dead-like condition,--what can be the causes or occasions thereof? I answer, (and this is the _second_ particular,) some or all of these things may be considered as having a hand in this: 1. No care to keep up a tender frame of heart, but growing slack, loose, and careless, in going about Christian duties, may bring on such a distemper. 2. Slighting of challenges for omission of duties, or leaving duties over the belly of conscience, may make way for such an evil. 3. Giving way to carnality and formality in duties, is a ready mean to usher in this evil. For when the soul turns carnal or formal in the discharge of duties, duties have not that spiritual lustre which they had, and the soul becometh the sooner wearied of them, as seeing no such desirableness in them, nor advantage by them. 4. When people drown themselves in cares of the world, they occasion this deadness to themselves; for then duties not only are not gone about heartily, but they are looked on as a burden, and the man becometh weary of them; and from that he cometh to neglect them; and by continuing in the neglect of them, he contracteth an aversion of heart for them; and then an utter unfitness and indisposition for discharging of them followeth. 5. Satan hath an active hand here, driving on with his crafts and wiles from one step to another. 6. The hand also of a sovereign God is to be observed here, giving way to this, yea, and ordering matters in his justice and wisdom so, as such persons shall come under such an indisposition, and that for wise and holy ends; as, (1.) That by such a dispensation he may humble them, who possibly were puffed up before, as thinking themselves fit enough to go about any duty, how difficult or hazardous soever, as Peter, who boasted so of his own strength, as he thought nothing to lay down his life for Christ, and to die with him; and yet at length came to that, that he could not, or durst not speak the truth to a damsel. (2.) That he may punish one spiritual sin with another. (3.) To give warning to all to watch and pray, and to work out their salvation with fear and trembling, and not to be high-minded, but fear. (4.) That thereby, in his just and righteous judgment, he may lay a stumbling-block before some, to the breaking of their neck, when they shall, for this cause, reject and mock at all religion. (5.) That he may give proof at length of his admirable skill in recovering from such a distemper, that no flesh might have ground to despair, in the most dead condition they can fall into. (6.) And to shew, sometimes, what a sovereign dispensator of life he is, and how free he is in all his favours. As to the _third_ particular, how Christ is life in this case, We answer, 1. By keeping possession of the believer, even when he seemeth to be most dead; and keeping life at the root, when there is neither fruit appearing nor flourishes, and hardly many green leaves to evidence life. 2. By blowing at the coal of grace in the soul, in his own time and way, and putting an end to the winter, and sending the time of the singing of the birds, a spring time of life. 3. By loosing the bands with which he was held fast formerly, enlarging the heart with desires to go about the duty; so that now he willingly riseth up out of his bed of security, and cheerfully shaketh off his drowsiness and sluggishness, and former unwillingness; and now with willingness and cheerfulness he setteth about the duty. 4. By sending influences of life and strength into the soul, whereby the wheels of the soul are made to run with ease, being oiled with those divine influences. 5. And this he doth by touching the heart, and wakening it by his Spirit; as he raised the spouse out of her bed of security and laziness, by putting in his hand at the hole of the door,--then were her bowels moved for him, Cant. v. 4; and thus he setteth faith on work again, having the key of David to open the heart, Rev. iii. 7. 6. By giving a discovery of the evil of their former ways and courses, he worketh up the heart to godly sorrow and remorse for what is done, making their bowels move for grief and sorrow, that they should so have dishonoured and grieved him. 7. By setting the soul thus on work to do what formerly it neither could nor would do; and thus he maketh the soul strong in the Lord, and in the power of his might, Eph. vi. 10, and able to run and not be weary, and to walk and not be faint, Isa. xl. 8. By discovering the great recompense of reward that is coming, and the great help they have at hand, in the covenant and promises thereof, and in Christ their head and Lord. He maketh the burden light and the duty easy. As to the _last_ particular, viz. how a believer, in such a case, should make use of Christ as the Life, that he may be delivered therefrom. When the poor believer is any way sensible of this decay, and earnestly desiring to be from under that power of death, and in case to go about commanded duties, he should, 1. Look to Christ for enlightened eyes, that he may get a more thorough discovery of the hazard and wretchedness of such a condition, that hereby being awakened and alarmed, he may more willingly use the means of recovery, and be more willing to be at some pains to be delivered. 2. He should run to the blood of Jesus, to get the guilt of his bygone sinful ways washed away, and blotted out; to the end he may obtain the favour of God, and get his reconciled face shining upon him again. 3. He should eye Christ as a prince exalted to give repentance, that so his sorrow for his former sinful courses may be kindly, spiritual, thorough, and affecting the heart. He would cry to Christ, that he would put in his hand by the hole of the door, that his bowels may become moved for him. 4. He should also look to him as that good shepherd, who will strengthen that which is sick, Ezek. xxxiv. 16. And take notice also of his other relations, and of his obligations thereby, and by the covenant of redemption; and this will strengthen his hope. 5. He should lay hold on Christ as his strength, whereby his feet may be made like hinds' feet, and he may be made to walk upon his high places, Hab. iii. 19; and he would grip to that promise, Isa. xli. 10, "I will strengthen thee;" and lay hold on Christ in it. 6. Having done thus, he should set about every commanded duty, in the strength of Jesus, looking to him for help and supply, from whom cometh all his strength, and though he should not find that help and assistance which he expected, yet he should not be discouraged, but continue, and when he can do no more, offer himself as ready and willing to go about the duty, as if he had strength. 7. He should lie open to, and be ready to receive the influences of strength, which he, who is the head, shall think good to give in his own time, manner, and measure; and this taketh in these duties: (1.) That they should carefully guard against the evils formerly mentioned, which brought on this distemper; such as carelessness, untenderness, unwatchfulness, laziness, carnal security, formality, and want of seriousness, &c. (2.) That they should beware of giving way to dispondency, or concluding the matter hopeless and irremediable; for that is both discouraging to the soul, and a tempting provocation of God. (3.) That they should be exercising the grace of patient waiting. (4.) That they should be waiting in the use of the appointed means, and thereby, as it were, rubbing the dead and cold member before the fire, till it gather warmth. (5.) That they should be keeping all their sails up, waiting for the gale of the Spirit, that should make their ship sail. (6.) That they should be looking to him alone, who hath promised that quickening Spirit; and patiently waiting his leisure, not limiting him to any definite time. (7.) That they should be cherishing and stirring up any small beginnings that are. (8.) That they should be welcoming most cheerfully every motion of the Spirit, and improving every advantage of that kind, and striking the iron when it is hot, and hold the wheels of the soul a-going, when they are once put in motion, and so be loath to grieve the good and holy Spirit of God, Eph. iv. 30, or to quench his motions, 1 Thess. v. 19. If these duties were honestly minded and gone about, in him, and in his strength, none can tell how soon there may be a change wrought in the soul. But if it be asked, what such can do, to whom the very thoughts of the duty, and aiming at it, is matter of terror; _Ans._ It may be, something, if not much, of that may flow from a bodily distemper, as occasioneth the alteration of the body, upon the thorough apprehension of any thing that is weighty and of moment, so as they cannot endure to be much affected with any thing. But leaving this to others, I would advise such a soul to those duties: 1. To be frequently setting to the duty, as, for example, of prayer, though that should raise the distemper of their body, for through time that may wear away, or at least grow less; whileas, their giving way thereto, will still make the duty the more and more terrible, and so render themselves the more unfit for it, and thus they shall gratify Satan, who, it may be, may have a hand in that bodily distemper too. When the poor soul is thus accustomed or habituated to the attempting of the duty, it will at length appear not so terrible as it did; and so the body may become not so soon altered thereby as it was. 2. When such an one can do no more, he should keep his love to the duty, and his desires after it, fresh, and lively, and should not suffer these quite to die out. 3. He should be much in the use of frequent ejaculations, and of short supplications darted up to God; for these will not make such an impression on the body, and so will not so occasion the raising and wakening the bodily distemper, as more solemn addresses to God in prayer would possibly do. 4. If he cannot go to Christ with confidence, to draw out of him life and strength, according to his need, yet he may give a look to him, though it were from afar; and he may think of him, and speak of him frequently, and would narrowly observe every thing that pointeth him out, or bringeth any thing of him to remembrance. 5. Such souls should not give way to despairing thoughts, as if their case were wholly helpless and hopeless; for that is a reflecting on the power and skill of Christ, and therefore is provoking and dishonourable to him. 6. Let Christ, and all that is his, be precious always and lovely unto them. And thus they should keep some room in their heart open for him, till he should be pleased to come to them with salvation; and who can tell how soon he may come? But enough of this. There is a _fourth_ case of deadness to be spoken to, and that is, CHAPTER XXIV. HOW SHALL THE SOUL MAKE USE OF CHRIST, AS THE LIFE, WHICH IS UNDER THE PREVAILING POWER OF UNBELIEF AND INFIDELITY. That we may help to give some clearing to a poor soul in this case, we shall, 1. See what are the several steps and degrees of this distemper. 2. Consider what the causes hereof are. 3. Shew how Christ is life to a soul in such a case; and, 4. Give some directions how a soul in that case should make use of Christ as the Life, to the end it may be delivered therefrom. And, _first,_ There are many several steps to, and degrees of this distemper. We shall mention a few; as, 1. When they cannot come with confidence, and draw out of him by faith, what their soul's case calleth for; they cannot "with joy draw waters out of the wells of salvation," Isa. xii. 3; but keep at a distance, and entertain jealous thoughts of him. This is a degree of unbelief making way for more. 2. When they cannot confidently assert and avow their interest in him, as the church did, Isa. xii. 2, saying, "Behold, God is my salvation, I will trust and not be afraid, for the Lord Jehovah is my strength and my song; he also is become my salvation." 3. When they much question, if ever they have indeed laid hold on Christ, and so cannot go to him for the supplies of their wants and necessities. 4. When, moreover, they question if they be allowed of God, and warranted to come to him, and lay hold upon him; yea, and they think they have many arguments whereby to maintain this their unbelief, and justify their keeping a-back from Christ. 5. Or, when, if they look to him at all, it is with much mixture of faithless fears that they shall not be the better, or at least doubting whether it shall be to their advantage or not. 6. This unbelief will advance further, and they may come to that, not only to conclude, that they have no part or portion in him, but also to conclude that their case is desperate and irredeemable; and so say there is no more hope, they are cut off for their part, as Ezek. xxxvii. 11, and so lie by as dead and forlorn. 7. Yea, they may come higher, and vent some desperate thoughts and expressions of God, to the great scandal of the godly, and the dishonour of God. 8. And yet more, they may come that length, to question all the promises, and to cry out with David, in his haste, Psalm c. 11, that "all men are liars." 9. Yea, they may come to this, to scout the whole gospel to be nothing but a heap of delusions, and a cunningly-devised fable, or but mere notions and fancies. 10. And at length come to question, if there be a God that ruleth in the earth. These are dreadful degrees and steps of this horrible distemper, and enough to make all flesh tremble. Let us see next whence this cometh. The causes hereof we may reduce to three heads: _First._ The holy Lord hath a holy hand in this, and hath noble ends and designs before him in this matter; as, 1. The Lord may think good to order matters thus, that he may magnify his power and grace, in rescuing such as were returned to the very brink of hell, and seemed to many to be lost and irrecoverably gone. 2. That in punishing them thus, for giving way to the first motions of unbelief, he might warn all to guard against such an evil, and not to foster and give way to groundless complaints, nor entertain objections, moved against their condition by the devil. 3. To warn all to walk circumspectly, and to work out their salvation with fear and trembling, not knowing what may befall them ere they die. 4. To teach all to walk humbly, not knowing what advantage Satan may get of them eve all be done; and to see their daily need of Christ to strengthen their faith, and to keep their grips of him fast. 5. So the Lord may think good to dispense so with some, that he may give a full proof of his wonderfully great patience and long-suffering in bearing with such, and that so long. 6. As also to demonstrate his sovereignty, in measuring out his dispensations to his own, as he seeth will most glorify himself. _Next,_ Satan hath an active hand in this; for, 1. He raiseth up clouds and mists in the believer, so that he cannot see the work of God within himself, and so is made to cry out, that he hath no grace, and that all was but delusions and imaginations, which he looked upon as grace before. 2. He raiseth up in them jealousies of God, and of all his ways, and puts a false gloss and construction on all which God doth, to the end he may confirm them in their jealousies, which they have drunk in of God. 3. Having gained this ground, he worketh then upon their corruption with very great advantage; and thus driveth them from evil to worse, and not only to question their perfect interest in Christ, but also to quit all hope for the time to come. 4. This being done, he driveth the soul yet farther, and filleth it with prejudices against God and his glorious truths; and from this he can easily bring them to call all in question. 5. Yea, he will represent God as an enemy to them; and when this is done, how easy it is with him to put them on desperate courses, and cause them to speak wickedly and desperately of God. 6. And when this is done, he can easily darken the understanding, that the poor soul shall not see the glory of the gospel, and of the covenant of grace, nor the lustre and beauty of holiness: yea, and raise prejudices against the same, because there is no hope of partaking of the benefit thereof; and so bring them on, to a plain questioning of all, as mere delusions. 7. And when he hath gotten them brought this length, he hath fair advantage to make them question if there be a God, and so drive them forward to atheism. And thus deceitfully he can carry the soul from one step to another. But, _third,_ there are many sinful causes of this within the man's self; as, 1. Pride and haughtiness of mind, as thinking their mountain standeth so strong, that it cannot be moved. And this provoketh God to hide his face, as Psalm xxx. 2. Self-confidence, a concomitant of pride, supposing themselves to be so well rooted that they cannot be shaken, whereas it were better for them to walk in fear. 3. Want of watchfulness over a deceitful heart, and an evil heart of unbelief, that is still departing from the living God, Heb. iii. 12. It is good to be jealous here. 4. Giving way to doubtings and questionings too readily at first. It is not good to tempt the Lord by parlying too much and too readily with Satan. Eve's practice might be a warning sufficient to us. 5. Not living in the sight of their wants, and of their daily necessity of Christ, nor acting faith upon him daily, for the supplying of their wants. And when faith is not used, it may contract rust and be weakened, and come at length not to be discerned. 6. Entertaining of jealous thoughts of God, and hearkening too readily to any thing that may foster and increase or confirm these. 7. Not delighting themselves in, and with pleasure dwelling on, the thoughts of Christ, of his offices, of the gospel and promises; so that these come at length to lose their beauty and glory in the soul, and have not the lustre that once they had; and this doth open a door to much mischief. 8. In a word, not walking with God according to the gospel, provoking the Lord to give them up to themselves for a time. We come now to the _third_ particular, which is, to shew how Christ is Life to the poor soul in this case. And for the clearing of this, consider, 1. That Christ is "the author and finisher of faith," Heb. xii. 2; and so, as he did rebuke unbelief at the first, he can rebuke it again. 2. That he is the great prophet clearing up the gospel, and every thing that is necessary for us to know, bringing life and immortality to light by the gospel, 2 Tim. i. 10, and so manifesting the lustre and beauty of the gospel. 3. He bringeth the promises home to the soul, in their reality, excellency, and truth, being the faithful witness and the amen, Rev. iii. 14, and the confirmer of the promises, so that they are all yea and amen in him, 2 Cor. i. 20. And this serveth to establish the soul in the faith, and to shoot out thoughts of unbelief. 4. So doth he, by his Spirit, dispel the mists and clouds which Satan, through unbelief, had raised in the soul. 5. And thereby also rebuketh those mistakes of God, and prejudices at him and his ways, which Satan hath wrought there, through corruption. 6. He discovereth himself to be a ready help in time of trouble, and the hope and anchor of salvation, Heb. vi. 19; and a priest living for ever to make intercession for poor sinners, Heb. vii. 25. 7. And hereby he cleareth up to the poor soul a possibility of help and relief; and thus rebuketh despair or preventeth it. 8. He manifesteth himself to be the marrow and substance of the gospel: and this maketh every line thereof pleasant and beautiful to the soul, and so freeth them from the prejudices that they had at it. 9. So in manifesting himself in the gospel, he revealeth the Father, that the soul cometh to "the knowledge of the glory of God, in the face of Jesus Christ," 2 Cor. iv. 6. And this saveth the soul from atheism. 10. When the soul cannot grip him, nor look to him, yet he can look to the soul, and by his love quicken and revive the soul, and warm the heart with love to him, and at length move and incline it sweetly to open to him; and thus grip and hold fast a lost sheep, yea, and bring it home again. But what should a soul do in such a case? To this, (which is the _fourth_ particular to be spoken to), I answer, 1. That they should strive against those evils formerly mentioned, which procured or occasioned this distemper. A stop should be put to those malignant humours. 2. They should be careful to lay again the foundation of solid knowledge of God, and of his glorious truths revealed in the gospel, and labour for the faith of God's truth and veracity; for till this be, nothing can be right in the soul. 3. They should be thoroughly convinced of the treachery, deceitfulness, and wickedness of their hearts, that they may see it is not worthy to be trusted, and that they may be jealous of it, and not hearken so readily to it as they have done, especially seeing Satan can prompt it to speak for his advantage. 4. They should remember also, that it is divine help that can recover them, and cause them grip to the promises, and lay hold on them of new again, as well as at first, and that of themselves they can do nothing. 5. In using of the means for the recovery of life, they should eye Christ, and because this eyeing of Christ is faith, and their disease lieth most there, they should do as the Israelites did who were stung in the eye with the serpents,--they looked to the brazen serpent with the wounded and stung eye: so should they do with a sickly and almost dead faith, grip him, and with an eye almost put out and made blind, look to him, knowing how ready he is to help, and what a tender heart he hath. 6. And to confirm them in this resolution, they should take a new view of all the notable encouragements to believe, wherewith the whole gospel aboundeth. 7. And withal fix on him, as the only "author and finisher of faith." 8. And, in a word, they should cast a wonderfully unbelieving and atheistical soul on him, who is wonderful in counsel, and excellent in working, and is wonderful in mercy and grace, and in all his ways. And thus may he at length, in his own time, and in the way that will most glorify himself, raise up that poor soul out of the grave of infidelity wherein it was stinking; and so prove himself to be indeed "the resurrection and the life, to the praise of the glory of his grace." We come now to speak to another case, which is, CHAPTER XXV. HOW CHRIST IS MADE USE OF AS THE LIFE, BY ONE THAT IS SO DEAD AND SENSELESS, AS HE CANNOT KNOW WHAT TO JUDGE OF HIMSELF, OR HIS OWN CASE, EXCEPT WHAT IS NAUGHT. We spake something to this very case upon the matter, when we spoke of Christ as the Truth. Yet we shall speak a little to it here, but shall not enlarge particulars formerly mentioned. And therefore we shall speak a little to those five particulars; and so, 1. Shew what this distemper is. 2. Shew whence it proceedeth, and how the soul cometh to fall into it. 3. Shew how Christ, as the Life, bringeth about a recovery of it 4. Shew how the soul is to be exercised, that it may obtain a recovery; and, 5. Answer some questions or objections. As to the _first_, Believers many times may be so dead, as not only not to see and know that they have an interest in Christ, and to be uncertain what to judge of themselves, but also be so carried away with prejudices and mistakes, as that they will judge no otherwise of themselves than that their case is naught; yea, and not only will deny or miscall the good that God hath wrought in them by his Spirit, but also reason themselves to be out of the state of grace, and a stranger to faith, and to the workings of the Spirit: and hereupon will come to call all delusions, which sometime they had felt and seen in themselves, which is a sad distemper, and which grace in life would free the soul from. This proceedeth (which is the _second_ particular) partly from God's hiding of his face, and changing his dispensations about them, and compassing them with clouds, and partly from themselves and their own mistakes: as, 1. Judging their state, not by the unchangeable rule of truth, but by the outward dispensations of God, which change upon the best. 2. Judging their state by the observable measure of grace within them, and so concluding their state bad, because they observe corruption prevailing now and then, and grace decaying, and they perceive no victory over temptations, nor growth in grace, &c. 3. Judging also their state by others; and so they suppose that they cannot be believers, because they are so unlike to others, whom they judge true believers. This is also to judge by a wrong rule. 4. Judging themselves by themselves, that is, because they look so unlike to what sometimes they were themselves, they conclude that their state cannot be good, which is also a wrong rule to judge their state by. 5. Beginning to try and examine their case and state, and coming to no close or issue, so that when they have done, they are as unclear and uncertain what to judge of themselves, as when they began; or, 6. Taking little or no pains to try themselves seriously, as in the sight of God, but resting satisfied with a superficial trial, which can come to no good issue. 7. Trying and examining, but through the sleight of Satan, and because pitching upon wrong marks, coming to no good issue, but condemning themselves without ground. 8. There is another thing which occasioneth this misjudging, to wit, the want of distinctness and clearness in covenanting with Christ, and the ignorance of the nature of true saving faith. As to the _third_ particular, how Christ is Life to the believer in this case, I answer, Christ manifesteth himself to be life to the soul in this case: 1. By sending the Spirit of life, that enlighteneth, informeth, persuadeth, and sealeth. 2. By actuating grace so in the soul, that it manifesteth itself, and evidenceth itself to be there; as the heat and burning of a fire will discover itself without other tokens. The _fourth_ particular, to wit, how the soul should be exercised, or how it should employ Christ, for an outgate from this, hath been abundantly cleared above, where we shewed, that believers in this case should, 1. Be frequent in gripping Christ and closing with him as their all-sufficient Mediator; and faith thus frequently acting on him may discover itself at length. 2. Look to Christ that hath eye-salve, and is given for a witness. 3. Keep grips fast of him, though they be in the dark; and walk on gripping to him. 4. Keep love toward him and his working, and in exercise. 5. Beg of him to clear up their state, by his Spirit explaining the true marks of grace, and discovering the working of grace in the soul. But it will be said, and so I come to the _last_ particular, what, if after all this, I remain as formerly, as unable to judge aright of my state as ever? _Answer._ Yet thou shouldst continue gripping Christ, loving him, looking to him, casting a lost, dead soul with all thy wants upon him, and mind this as thy constant work. Yea, thou shouldst labour to be growing in these direct acts of faith; and learn to submit to God herein, knowing that those reflect acts are not absolutely necessary; and that thou shouldst think it much if he bring thee to heaven at length, though covered with a cloud all thy days. _Obj._ 2. But others get much more clearness. _Ans._ I grant that; yet know, that every one getteth not clearness, and such as have it, have it not in the same measure. And must God give thee as much as he giveth to another? What if thou could not make that use of it that others do, but wax proud thereby, and forget thyself? Therefore it will be best to give God liberty to dispense his favours as he will, and that thou be about thy commanded duty, the exercise of faith, love, fear, patience, &c. _Obj._ 3. But if at any time I got a sight of my case, it would be some peace and satisfaction to me. _Ans._ I grant that, and what knowest thou; but thou mayest also get that favour ere thou die. Why then wilt thou not wait his leisure? _Obj._ 4. But the want of it in the mean time maketh me go heartlessly and discouragedly about commanded duties, and maketh that I cannot apply things distinctly to myself. _Ans._ Yet the word of command is the same, the offer is the same, and the encouragement is the same. Why then should thou not be going on, leaning to Christ in the wilderness, even though thou want that comfortable sight? _Obj._ 5. But it is one thing to want a clear sight of my state, it is another thing to judge myself, to be yet in the state of nature; and this is my case. _Ans._ I grant, this is the worst of the two; yet, what if thou misjudge thyself without ground; should thou not suffer for thy own folly; and whom can thou blame but thyself? And if thou judge so, thou cannot but know that it is thy duty to do the thing that thou supposeth is not yet done, that is, run away to Christ for life and salvation, and rest on him and abide there; and if this were frequently renewed, the grounds of thy former mistake might be easily removed. Yet further, I would add these few things: 1. Take no pleasure in debating against your own soul; for that is but to serve Satan's design. 2. Be not too rash or ready to drink in prejudices against the work of God in your own souls; for that is to conclude with Satan against yourselves. 3. Make much of any little light he is pleased to give, were it but of one mark, and be not ill to please; for one scriptural mark, as love to the brethren, may sufficiently evidence the thing. 4. See how thy soul would like the condition of such as are carnal, profane, careless in the matters of God; and if thy soul doth really abhor that, and thou would not upon any account choose to be in such a case, thou may gather something from that to thy comfort. But enough of this case here. CHAPTER XXVI. HOW IS CHRIST, AS THE LIFE, TO BE APPLIED BY A SOUL THAT MISSETH GOD'S FAVOUR AND COUNTENANCE. The sixth case, that we shall speak a little to, is a deadness, occasioned by the Lord's hiding of himself, who is their life, and "the fountain of life," Ps. xxxvi. 9, and "whose loving-kindness is better than life," Ps. lxiii. 3, and "in whose favour is their life," Ps. xxx. 5. A case, which the frequent complaints of the saints manifest to be rife enough, concerning which we shall, 1. Shew some of the consequences of the Lord's hiding his face, whereby the soul's case will appear. 2. Shew the reasons of this dispensation. 3. Shew how Christ is life to the soul in this case; and, 4. Point out the soul's duty; or how he is to make use of Christ for a recovery. As to the _first,_ we may take notice of those particulars: 1. They complain of God's hiding of himself, and forsaking them, Ps. xxii. 1, "My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?" and Ps. xiii. 3, "How long wilt thou forsake me?" &c. 2. They cry out for a blink of his face, and get it not; for he hath withdrawn himself, Ps. xiii. 1, "how long wilt thou hide thy face from me?" Heman, Ps. lxxxviii., cried out night and day, but yet God's face was hid, ver. 1, 9, 14. The spouse seeketh long, Cant. v.; see Ps. xxii. 1, 2. 3. They are looking for an outgate, but get none. And "hope deferred maketh their heart sick," Prov. xiii. 12. 4. They are in the dark, and cannot tell' why the Lord dispenseth so towards them; "Why," said Heman, Ps. xviii. 14, "castest thou off my soul? why holdest thou thy face from me?" They cannot understand wherefore it is. So Job cried out, "shew me wherefore thou contendest with me," Job x. 2. 5. They may also be walking, in the mean while, without light or counsel, so as they shall not know what to do. "How long shall I take counsel in my soul," Ps. xiii. 2. 6. Moreover, they may have their heart filled with sorrow; as we see, Ps. xiii. 2, "having sorrow in my heart," said David. He also saith, Ps. xxxviii. that his sorrow was continually before him, ver. 17; and Ps. cxvi. 3, "I found trouble and sorrow." 7. They may be so, as the sweet experience of others may yield them no supply of comfort at present, Ps. xxii. 4-6, "Our fathers trusted in thee," said David, "and thou didst deliver them; they cried to thee, and were delivered; they trusted in thee, and were not confounded." But that gave him no present ease or comfort; for immediately he addeth, ver. 6, "but I am a worm and no man, a reproach of men," &c. 8. Yea, all their own former experiences may yield them little solace; as we see in the same place, Ps. xxii. 9, 10, compared with ver. 14,15, "Thou art he," says he, ver. 9, "that took me out of the womb," &c. And yet he complains, ver. 14, "that he was poured out like water, and his bones out of joint, that his heart was melted in the midst of his bowels," &c. 9. They may be brought near to a giving over all in despondency, and be brought, in their sense, to the very dust of death, Psal. xxii. 16. If it be inquired, why the Lord dispenseth so with his own people? We answer, and this is the _second_ particular, that he doeth it for holy and wise reasons, whereof we may name a few; as, 1. To punish their carelessness and negligence; as we see he did with the spouse, Cant. v. 2. To chastise them for their ill-improving of his favour and kindness when they had it; as the same passage evidenceth. 3. To check them for their security and carnal confidence, as he did David, Psal. xxx. 6, 7, when he said his mountain stood strong, and he should never be moved. Then did the Lord hide his face, and he was troubled. 4. To try if their obedience to his commands be pure and conscientious, and not in a sort mercenary, because of his lifting up upon them the light of his countenance; and to see if conscience to a command driveth them to duty, when they are in the dark, and have no encouragement. 5. To put the graces of the Spirit to trial and to exercise; as their faith, patience, hope, love, &c. Psal. xiii. 5, 6, 22, 24. 6. To awaken them from their security, and to set them to a more diligent following of duty; as we see in the spouse, Cant. v. 7. To sharpen their desire and hunger after him, as this instance cleareth. Even in such a case as this, Christ is life to the soul, which is the _third_ particular, 1. By taking away the sinful causes of such a distance, having laid down his life and shed his blood for the remission of their sins, so that such a dispensation is not flowing from pure wrath, but is rather an act of mercy and love. 2. By advocating the poor man's cause in heaven, where he is making intercession for his own, and thereby obtaining a delivery from that condition, in God's own time, even the shining again of his countenance upon them. 3. By keeping life in, as to habitual grace, and by breathing thereupon, so that it becometh lively, and operative even in such a winter day. 4. By supporting the soul under that dispensation, and keeping it from fainting, through the secret influences of grace, which he conveyeth into the soul; as he did to the poor woman of Canaan, Matth. xv. 5. By setting the soul a-work, to use such means as God hath appointed for a recovery; as, to cry, to plead, to long, to wait, &c. "Their heart shall live that seek him." 6. By teaching the soul to submit to and acquiesce in what God doth, acknowledging his righteousness, greatness, and sovereignty; and this quietness of heart is its life. 7. By keeping the heart fast to the covenant of grace; so that whatever come, they will never quit that bargain, but they will trust in him though he should kill them; and they will adhere to the covenant of grace, though they should be dragged through hell. 8. At length when he seeth it fit and convenient, he quickeneth by drawing back the veil, and filling the soul with joy, in the light of God's countenance; and causing it to sing, as having the heart lifted up in the ways of the Lord. As to the _last_ particular, concerning the duty of a soul in such a case; we say, 1. He should humble himself under this dispensation, knowing that it is the great God with whom he hath to do; and that there is no contending with him; and that all flesh should stoop before him. 2. He should justify God in all that he doth, and say with David, Psal. xxii. 3. "But thou art holy, O thou that inhabitest the praises of Israel." 3. He should look upon himself as unworthy of the least of that kind: "I am a worm," said David, Psal. xxii. 6, "and no man." 4. He should search out his provocations, and run away to the fountain, the blood of Christ, that these may be purged away, and his conscience sprinkled from dead works, and his soul washed in the fountain opened to the house of David for sin and for uncleanness. 5. He must also employ Christ, to discover to him more and more of his guiltiness, whereby he hath grieved the Spirit of God; and as sins are discovered to him, he would repent of them, and run away with them to the blood that cleanseth from all sin. This was Elihu's advice to Job, chap. xxxiv. 31, 32. "Surely it is meet to be said unto God, I have borne chastisement, I will not offend. That which I see not, teach thou me; if I have done iniquity, I will do no more." 6. He should grip to Christ in the covenant, and rest there with joy and satisfaction; he should hold that fast that he may ride out the storm in a dark night; "though he make not mine house to grow," said David, 2 Sam. xxiii. 5; yet this was all his salvation and all his desire, that he "had made with him an everlasting covenant, ordered in all things and sure." The spouse took this course, when she could not get a sight of him whom her soul loved, Cant. vi. 3, and asserted her interest in him; "I am my beloved's, and my beloved is mine." 7. He should be entertaining high and loving thoughts of God, commending him highly, let his dispensations be what they will. So did the spouse, Cant. v. 10, 16. 8. He should earnestly seek after him. The spouse did so, Cant. v. 6. The discouragement she met with at the hands of the watchmen, did not put her off her pursuit, ver. 7, but she continued, yea, was "sick of love;" ver. 8; and her looks had a prevailing power with him, as we see, Cant. vi. 5, where the bridegroom uttered that most astonishing word, "Turn away thine eyes from me, for they have overcome me." 9. This new manifestation which he is seeking for, must be expected in and through Christ, who is the true tabernacle, and he who was represented by the mercy-seat. He is the only trusting-place; in him alone will the Father be seen. 10. He should also look to him for strength and support, in the mean time; and for grace, that he may be kept from fainting, and may be helped to wait till he come, who knoweth the fittest season wherein to appear. But it will be said, what if, after all this, we get no outgate, but he hideth his face still from us? I answer, such should know, that life is one thing, and comfort is another thing; grace is one thing, and warm blinks of God's face is another. The one is necessary to the very being of a Christian, the other not, but only necessary to his comfortable being; and therefore they should be content, if God give them grace, though they miss comfort for a time. 2. They should learn to commit that matter to Christ who knoweth how to give that which is good and best for them. 3. They should be hanging on him for strength and for duty; and in his strength setting about every commanded duty, and be exercising faith, love, patience, hope, desire, &c. 4. Let the well-ordered covenant be all their salvation, and all their desire; and though they should not get a comfortable blink of God's face, so long as they were here, yet holding fast this covenant, they should at length be saved souls, and what would they have more? and when they get this, what will they miss? CHAPTER XXVII. HOW SHALL ONE MAKE USE OF CHRIST AS THE LIFE, WHEN WRESTLING WITH AN ANGRY GOD BECAUSE OF SIN? That we may give some satisfaction to this question, we shall, 1. Shew what are the ingredients in this case, or what useth to concur in this distemper. 2. Shew some reasons why the Lord is pleased to dispense thus with his people. 3. Shew how Christ is life to the soul in this case. 4. Shew the believer's duty for a recovery; and, 5. Add a word or two of caution. As to the _first,_ There may be those parts of, or ingredients in this distemper: 1. God presenting their sins unto their view, so as they shall cry out, "Our sin is ever before us," Psal. li. 3, and say, as it is, Psal. xc. 8. "Thou hast set our iniquities before thee, our secret sins in the light of thy countenance;" and so cause them see the Lord contending for sin, as the church did, Isa. lix. "We roar all like bears, and mourn sore like doves. We look for judgment but there is none, for salvation but it is far off from us; for our transgressions are multiplied before thee, and our sins testify against us; for our transgressions are with us; and as for our iniquities, we know them," &c. 2. Yea, God may bring upon them the iniquities of their youth, as Job speaketh, chap. xiii. 26, and so bring upon them, or suffer conscience to charge them, with their old sins formerly repented of and pardoned. And this is more terrible: David is made to remember his original sin, Psal. li. 3. And, as Job speaketh, chap. xv. 17, God may seem to be sealing up all their sins in a bag, that none of them may be lost or fall by, without being taken notice of; and, as it were, be gathering them together in a heap. 4. He may pursue sore with signs of wrath and displeasure, because of those sins, as we see in David, Psal. iv.; xxxviii. 51, and in several others of his people, chastened of the Lord because of their transgressions; whereof there are many instances in Scripture. 5. Yea, and that for a considerable time together, and cause them cry out, with David, Psal. iv. 3, "But thou, O Lord, how long!" 6. And that not only with outward, but also with inward plagues and strokes, as David's case cleareth, in the fore-cited Psalms. 7. Yea, and not even themselves, but even their posterity; as David's child was smitten with death, and the posterity of Manasses, who found mercy himself, 2 Chron. xxxiii. 13, was carried into captivity for his sin, 2 Kings xxiii. 26, 27. 8. Further, the Lord may deprive them of all their former joy and comfort, which made David cry out, Psalm li. 12, "Restore unto me the joy of thy salvation, and grant me thy free Spirit." 9. And, which is yet more terrible, write their sin upon their judgment, as when he caused the sword and whoredom follow David's house. 10. And, finally, he may cause them fear utter off-casting, as Psalm li. 12, "cast me not away," said he, "from thy presence." And this the Lord thinketh good to do (that we may speak a word to the _second_ particular) for those, and the like reasons: 1. To discover to them, and to all the world, how just, holy, and righteous a God he is, that cannot approve of, or bear with sin, even in his own children. 2. To make all fear and tremble before this great and holy God, who is terrible in his judgments, even when they come from a Father's hand that is not pursuing in pure anger and wrath, but chastening in love. Sure all must think that his dispensations with the wicked will be much more fearful and horrible, seeing they are not yet reconciled to him through the blood of Jesus. 3. To press believers more earnestly into Christ, that they may get a new extract of their pardon, and their souls washed in the blood of Jesus. 4. To teach them to walk more circumspectly afterwards, and to guard more watchfully against Satan's temptations, and to employ Christ more as their strength, light, and guide. 5. To cause them see their great obligation to Jesus Christ, for delivering them from that state of wrath, wherein they were by nature, as well as others, and would have lain in to all eternity, had he not redeemed them. 6. To exercise their faith, patience, and hope; to see if in hope they will believe against hope, and lay hold on the strength of the Lord, that they make peace with him, Isaiah xxvii. 5. 7. To give a fresh proof of his wonderful mercy, grace, love, and compassion, upholding the soul in the mean time, and at length pardoning them, and speaking peace to their souls through the blood of Jesus. But as to the _third_ particular, we may look on Christ as the Life to the soul in this case, upon those accounts, 1. He hath satisfied justice, and so hath borne the pure wrath of God due for their sins. "He hath trodden the wine press alone," Isaiah lxiii. 5. "He was wounded for our transgressions, and bruised for our sins," Isaiah liii. 5, 10; and therefore they drink not of this cup which would make them drunk, and to stagger, and fall, and never rise again. 2. Yea, he hath procured that mercy and love shall accompany all those sharp dispensations, and that they shall flow from mercy; yea, and that they shall be as a covenanted blessing promised in the covenant, Psalm lxxxix. 30, &c. 3. And sometimes he is pleased to let them see this clear difference betwixt the strokes they lie under, and the judgments of pure wrath which attend the wicked; and this supporteth the soul; for then he seeth that those dispensations, how sharp soever they be, shall work together for good to him, and come from the hand of a gracious loving Father, reconciled in the blood of Christ. 4. "He is a Prince, exalted to give repentance and remission of sins to Israel," Acts v. 31. Yea, he hath procured such a clause in the covenant, which is well ordered in all things and sure, that upon their renewing of faith and repentance, their after sins shall be pardoned; and besides the promises of faith and repentance in the covenant, his being a Prince exalted to give both, giveth assurance of their receiving of both. 5. He cleareth to them their interest in the covenant, and their right to the promises of the covenant; and through their closing with Christ by faith, he raiseth up their heart in hope, and causeth them to expect an outgate, even remission of their sins, and turning away the displeasure in due time through him. And this is a great part of their life. 6. Being the author and finisher of faith, and a prince to give repentance, he, by his Spirit, worketh up the soul to a renewing of its grips of himself by faith, and to a running to the death and blood of Christ for pardon and washing, and worketh godly sorrow in the heart, whereupon followeth pardon, according to the gospel constitution, though the believer as yet perceiveth it not; and sin being pardoned before God, conform to the tenor of the covenant of grace, the man is a living man, whatever fears of death he may be kept under for a time. 7. He helpeth also to a justifying of God, and to a holy, submissive frame of spirit under that dispensation; so that they are willing to bear the indignation of the Lord, because they have sinned against him, Micah vii. 9; and to wait for an outgate in God's own time, and to kiss the rod, and to accept of the punishment of their sin. 8. When he seeth it fit for his own glory, and their advantage, he speaketh peace at length to the soul, and saith, "son (or daughter) be of good cheer, thy sins are forgiven thee; and then is the soul restored to life." As to the _fourth_ particular. The soul that is wrestling with an angry God for sin, and would make use of Christ as the Life, should do these things: 1. He should look to Christ as standing under God's curse in our room, and as satisfying justice for all the elect, and for all their sins. 2. He should eye the covenant wherein new pardon is promised, upon the renewing of faith and repentance. 3. He should eye Christ as the great Lord dispensator of both faith and repentance, and hang on him for both, and thus believe, that he may believe and repent, or lay his soul open to him, that he may work in him both repentance and faith. 4. He should flee to the blood of sprinkling, "that speaks better things than the blood of Abel," that he may be washed, and sprinkled with hyssop, as David did, Psalm li. 7. 5. He should eye Christ as a prince to give pardon and remission of sins, and as exalted for this end, and should fix his eye upon him, as now exalted in glory for this end. 6. He should close with Christ of new, as his only all-sufficient Mediator; and having done this, and repented of his sins, whereby God hath been provoked, he should conclude through faith, that a pardon is passed in the court of heaven, conform to the tenor of the gospel, and wait on Christ until the intimation come. As for the cautions which I promised to speak to, in the _last_ place, take those few: 1. Do not conclude there is no pardon, because there is no intimation thereof made to thy soul as yet. According to the dispensation of grace condescended upon in the gospel, pardon is had immediately upon a soul's believing and repenting; but the intimation, sense, and feeling of pardon, is a distinct thing, and may, for several ends, be long kept up from the soul. Sure they go not always together. 2. Do not conclude there is no pardon, because the rod that was inflicted for sin is not as yet taken off. God pardoned David's sin, and did intimate the same to him by Nathan, and yet the sword did not depart from his house till he died. God can forgive, and yet take vengeance on their inventions, Psalm xcix. 8. 3. Do not upon this ground question God's faithfulness, or conclude that God's covenant doth not stand fast. He is the same, and the covenant abideth fast and firm; but the change is in thee. 4. Do not think that because thou hast once received Christ, that therefore, without any new act of faith on him, or of repentance towards God, thou should immediately be pardoned of thy sins, as soon as they are committed; for the gospel method must be followed, and it should satisfy us. CHAPTER XXVIII. NO MAN COMETH TO THE FATHER BUT BY ME. This being added for further confirmation of what was formerly said, will point out unto us several necessary truths, as, I. That it is most necessary to be sound and clear in this fundamental point of coming to God only in and through Christ. For, 1. It is the whole marrow of the gospel. 2. It is the hinge of our salvation, Christ is "the chief corner stone," Isa. xxxviii. 16. 1 Pet. i. 5, 6; and, 3. The only ground of all our solid and true peace and comfort. 4 An error or a mistake here, is most dangerous, hazarding, if not ruining all. 5. Satan endeavours mainly against this, raiseth up heresies, errors, and false opinions, and prompteth some to vent perplexing doubts and objections, and all to darken this cardinal point. So doth he muster up all his temptations for this end, at length to keep poor souls from acquaintance with this way, and from making use of it, or entering into it. 6. Our corrupt hearts are most averse from it, and will close with any way, how troublesome, how expensive and costly soever it may seem to be, rather than with this. 7. There are a multitude of false ways, as we did shew above. All which do clear up this necessity, and should teach us to be very diligent to win to acquaintance with it, and to make sure that we are in it, and to hold it fast, and to keep it pure in our practice, without mixing any thing with it, or corrupting of it. II. That it is no small difficulty to get this truth believed and practised, that through Christ alone we come to the Father. Therefore is the same thing asserted and inculcated again upon the same matter; for, 1. Nature will not teach this way; it is far above nature. 2. Yea, our natural inclinations are much against it, opposing it, and fighting against it. 3. This way is altogether contrary to that high esteem which naturally all of us have of ourselves. 4. And is opposite to that pride of heart which naturally we are subject to. 5. Yea, there is nothing in us by nature that will willingly comply with this way; but, on the contrary, all is opposite thereunto. 6. And therefore it is the Christian's first lesson to deny himself. The consideration of which should humble us, and make us very jealous of our own hearts and inclinations, and of all those courses which they are inclinable to and bent upon. And it should put us to try if ever we have overcome this difficulty; and have now all our hopes and comforts founded on him, and on nothing else; and are up and down in our peace and joy according as we win in to him, or are shut out from him; and in all our approaches to God, upon whatsoever account, are leaning to him and resting upon him alone, expecting access, acceptance, and a hearing, only in him; and are quieted under all our fears and temptations, with this,--that Christ is our way to the Father. III. That even believers have need to have this truth inculcated often: For, 1. Satan is busy pulling them off this ground by all the wiles and temptations he can. 2. Their own corruption within, and the evil heart of unbelief, is always opposing this way, and drawing them off it. 3. Through the sleight of Satan and the power of corruption, they are oftentimes declining from this pure gospel way. 4. The experience of believers can tell, that when they are at their best, it is a great work and exercise to them to keep their hearts right in this matter. 5. Is it not too often seen, that they are the spiritual plague of formality, which stealeth them off their feet here? 6. And is it not found oftentimes that they are too ready to lean to something beside Christ? How ought all to be convinced of this, and humbled under the sense of it! And see also how necessary it is to be often preaching on this subject, and to be often thinking upon and studying this fundamental truth. IV. It should be a strong motive and incitement to us to make use of Christ as the way to the Father, that no man cometh to the Father but by him; for this may be looked upon as an argument enforcing their use-making of him as the way. V. It discovereth the ground of that truth, that there are but few that are saved, for none cometh to the Father but by him; few, in respect of the whole world, once hear of him; and of such as hear of him, few have the true way of employing and applying him, as the way to the Father cleareth up unto them. And again, of such as have the truth, as it is in Jesus, preached unto them, O how few go to him and make use of him according to the truth, and believe and practise the truth! VI. That in and through Christ alone we must come, 1. To the knowledge of the Father; "for no man knoweth the Father but the Son;" and he alone, who came out of the bosom of the Father, revealeth him. 2. To the favour and friendship of the Father; for he alone is our peace, and in him alone is the Father well pleased. 3. To the kingdom of the Father here; for here only is the door, John x.; and by his Spirit are we effectually called. 4. To the kingdom of the Father above; for he alone hath opened that door, and is entered into the holiest of all, as our forerunner, and is gone to prepare a place for us. 5. Through him alone must we address ourselves to the Father in our supplications, John xvi. 23. Rev. viii. 3; in our thanksgiving, Rom. i. 8. Col. iii. 17; and praise, Heb. xiii. 15. Eph. iii. 21. 6. Through him alone have we access and an open door to the Father, Eph. ii. 18; iii. 21. Heb. iv. 16. I shall only speak to one case here, viz. CHAPTER XXIX. HOW SHOULD WE MAKE USE OF CHRIST, IN GOING TO THE FATHER, IN PRAYER, AND OTHER ACTS OF WORSHIP? In short, for answering of this question, I shall lay down those particulars: 1. There should be a lively sense of the infinite distance that is between the great God and us finite creatures, and yet more betwixt the Holy Ghost and us sinful wretches. 2. There should be an eyeing of Christ as the great peacemaker, through his death and merits having satisfied justice and reconciled sinners unto God; that so we may look on God now no more as an enemy, but as reconciled in Jesus. 3. There should be, sometimes at least, a more formal and explicit actual closing with Christ as ours, when we are going about such duties, and always an implicit and virtual embracing of him as our Mediator, or an habitual hanging upon him and leaning to him as our Mediator and peacemaker. 4. There should be an eyeing of him as our great High Priest now living for ever to make intercession for us, and to keep the door of heaven open to us: upon which account the apostle presseth the Hebrews to "come boldly to the throne of grace," Heb. iv. 14,16. See also Heb. v. 24,25. 5. There should be a gripping to him even in reference to that particular act of worship, and a laying hold upon him, to speak so, as our master-usher to bring us by the hand in to the Father, conscious of our own unworthiness. 6. There should be a confident leaning to him in our approaching, and so we should approach him without fear and diffidence; and that notwithstanding that we find not our souls in such a good frame as we would Wish, yea, and guilt looking us in the face. 7. Thus should we roll all the difficulties that come in our way, and all the discouragements which we meet with, on him, that he may take away the one and the other, and help us over the one and the other. 8. As we should take an answer to all objections from him alone, and put him to remove all scruples and difficulties, and strengthen ourselves against all impediments and discouragements alone, in and through him, so there should be the bringing of all our positive encouragements from him alone, and all our hopes of coming speed with the Father should be grounded upon him. 9. We should expect all our welcome and acceptance with the Father only in and through Christ, and expect nothing for any thing in ourselves, nor for our graces, good frame, preparation, or any thing of that kind. So we should not found our acceptance nor our peace and satisfaction on ourselves, nor on any thing we have or do; nor should we conclude our exclusion or want of acceptance, because we do not apprehend our frame so good as it ought to be; so we should not found our acceptance on our right performance of duties, for that is not Christ. 10. We should quiet ourselves on him alone in all our approaches, whatever liveliness we find or miss in duty. We are too much tickled and fain when duties go well with us, and troubled on the other hand when it is not so; and the ground of all this is, because we lean too much to our own duties, and do not quiet ourselves on him alone. And hence it is, that we are often quieted when we get the duty done and put by, though we have not met with him there, nor gotten use made of him as was necessary. All our comfort, peace, and quiet should be founded on him alone. 11. We should look to him for the removal of all the discouragements that Satan casts in our way while we are about this or that piece of worship, to put us back, or cause us to advance slowly and faintingly; and casting them all on him, go forward in our duty. 12. We should look for all our returns and answers only in and through him, and lay all the weight of our hopes and expectations of a good answer only on him, 1 John v. 13, 14, 15. For caution I would add a word or two: 1. I do not think that the believer can explicitly and distinctly act all these things whenever he is going to God, or can distinctly perceive all these several acts; nor have I specified and particularly mentioned them thus, for this end, but to shew at some length, how Christ is to be employed in those acts of worship which we are called to perform; and that because we oftentimes think the simple naming of him, and asking of things for his sake, is sufficient, though our hearts lean more to some other thing than to him; and the conscientious Christian will find his soul, when he is rightly going about the duties of worship, looking towards Christ thus, sometimes more distinctly and explicitly as to one particular, and sometimes more as to another. 2. Though the believer cannot distinctly act faith on Christ all these ways, when he is going about commanded duties of worship, yet he should be sure to have his heart going out after Christ, as the only ground of his approaching to and acceptance with and of being heard by the Father; and to have his heart in such an habitual frame of resting on Christ, that really there may be a relying upon him all these ways, though not distinctly discerned. 3. Sometimes the believer will be called to be more distinct and explicit in looking to and resting upon Christ, as to one particular, and sometimes more as to another. When Satan is dissuading him to go to God because he is an infinitely holy One, and he himself is but a sinner, then he is called to act faith on Christ as the Mediator making reconciliation between God and sinners; and when Satan is dissuading from approaching to God, because of their want of an interest in God, then should they act faith on Christ, and embrace him according to the gospel, and rest there, and so approach. And when Satan casts up his unworthiness and former sins, to keep him a-back or to discourage him, then he is called to lay hold on Christ as the great High Priest and Advocate, and casting that discouragement on him, to go forward. So likewise, when Satan is discouraging him in his duty, by bringing before him his sins, he should take this course; and when, because of his sinful way of worshipping God, and calling upon him, and other things, he is made to fear that all is in vain, and that neither God regardeth him nor his services, and that he shall not come speed, then should he cast all the burden of his acceptance, and of obtaining what he asketh and desireth, on Christ, and quiet himself there; and so as _to_ the rest. And hence appeareth the usefulness of our branching out of this matter. 4. In all this, there must be an acting in the strength of Jesus; a looking to Christ and resting upon Christ, according to the present case and necessity, in Christ; that is, by his strength and grace communicated to us by his Spirit; then do we worship God in the Spirit, and in the newness of the Spirit, when all is done, in the matter of worship, in and through Jesus. THE END. 
12624	----	OUR LADY SAINT MARY BY J. G. H. BARRY, D.D. 1922 Would that it might happen to me that I should be called a fool by the unbelieving, in that I have believed such things as these. --Origen. TO THE MEMBERS OF THE LEAGUE OF THE BLESSED VIRGIN THIS VOLUME IS HOPEFULLY DEDICATED PREFACE The two papers in Part I have been published in the American Church Magazine. Of Part II Chapter 1 has been published separately; Chapters 2, 4, 7, 9 and 12 have been published in the Holy Cross Magazine. The rest of the volume is here published for the first time. I would emphasise the fact that the contents of Part II is a series of sermons which were prepared as such, and were preached in the Church of S. Mary the Virgin, New York City, for the most part in the Winter of 1921-22. In preparing them for publication in this volume no attempt has been made to alter their sermon character. It is not a theological treatise on the Blessed Virgin that I have attempted, but a devotional presentation of her life. I have added to the text as originally prepared certain prayers and poems. The object of the selection of the prayers, almost exclusively from the Liturgies of the Catholic Church, is to illustrate the prevalence of the address of devotion to our Lady throughout Christendom. The poems are selected with much the same thought, and have been mostly gathered from mediaeval sources, and so far as possible, from British. I have no special knowledge of devotional poetry, but have selected such poems as I have from time to time copied into my note books. This fact has made it impossible for me to give credit for them to the extent that I should have liked. I trust that any one who is entitled to credit will accept this apology. Much of the difficulty felt by Anglicans at expressions commonly found in prayers and hymns addressed to our Lady is due to prevalent unfamiliarity with the devotional language of the Catholic Church throughout the ages. Those whose background of thought is the theology of the Catholic Church, not in any one period, but in the whole extent of its life, will have no difficulty in such language because the limitations which are implied in it will be clear to them. To others, I can only say that it is fair to assume that the great saints of the Church of God in all times and in all places did not habitually use language which was idolatrous, and our limitations are much more likely to be at fault than their meaning. It is not true in any degree that the teaching of Catholics as to the place of the Virgin intrudes on the prerogative of our Lord. It is, as matter of fact Catholics, and not those who oppose the Catholic Religion who are upholding that prerogative. This has been excellently expressed by a modern French theologian. "We are established in the friendship of God, in the divine adoption, in the heavenly inheritance, solely in virtue of the covenent by which our souls are bound to the Son of God, and by which the goods, the merits, and the rights of the Son of God are communicated to our souls, as in the natural order, the property of the husband becomes the property of the wife. Surely, one can say nothing more than we say here, and assuredly the sects opposed to the Church have never said more: indeed, they are far to-day from saying so much to maintain intact this truth, that Jesus Christ is our sole Redeemer, and to give that truth the entire extent that belongs to it." CONTENTS PART I. CHAPTER I. OF LOYALTY. II. THE MEANING OF WORSHIP. PART II. I. MARY OF NAZARETH. II. THE ANNUNCIATION I. III. THE ANNUNCIATION II. IV. THE VISITATION I. V. THE VISITATION II. VI. S. JOSEPH. VII. THE NATIVITY. VIII. THE MAGI. IX. THE PRESENTATION. X. EGYPT. XI. NAZARETH. XII. THE TEMPLE. XIII. CANA I. XIV. CANA II. XV. WHO IS MY MOTHER? XVI. HOLY WEEK I. XVII. HOLY WEEK II. XVIII. THE CRUCIFIXION. XIX. THE DESCENT AND BURIAL. XX. THE RESURRECTION. XXI. THE FORTY DAYS. XXII. THE ASCENSION. XXIII. THE DESCENT OF THE HOLY SPIRIT. XXIV. THE HOME OF S. JOHN. XXV. THE ASSUMPTION. XXVI. THE CORONATION. PART ONE CHAPTER I OF LOYALTY O God, who causes us to rejoice in recalling the joys of the conception, the nativity, the annunciation, the visitation, the purification, and the assumption of the blessed and glorious virgin Mary; grant to us so worthily to devote ourselves to her praise and service, that we may be conscious of her presence and assistance in all our necessities and straits, and especially in the hour of death, and that after death we may be found worthy, through her and in her, to rejoice in heaven with thee. Through &c. SARUM MISSAL. The dream of the Middle Ages was of one Christian society of which the Church should be the embodiment of the spiritual, and the State of the temporal interests. As there is one humanity united to God in Incarnate God, all its interests should be capable of unification in institutions which should be based on that which is essential in humanity, and not on that which is accidental: men should be united because they are human and Christian, and not divided because of diversity of blood or color or language. The dream proved impossible of realization, and the struggle for human unity went to pieces on the rocks of the rapidly developing nationalism of the later Middle Ages. The Reformation was the triumph of nationalism and the defeat of Catholic idealism. It resulted in a shattered Christendom in which the interests of local and homogeneous groups became supreme over the purely human interests. In state and Church alike patriotism has tended more and more to become dominant over the interests that are supralocal and universal. The last few years have seen an intensification of localism. We have seen bitter scorn heaped on the few who have labored for internationalism in thought and feeling. We have seen the attempt of labor at internationalism utterly break down under the pressure of patriotic motive. We are finding that the same concentration on immediate and local interests is an insuperable bar to the realization of an ideal of internationalism which would effectively deal with questions arising between nations and put an end to war. The Church failed to establish a spiritual internationalism; the indications are that it will be long before humanitarian idealists will be able to effect a union among nations still infected with patriotic motive, such as shall bring about a subordination of local and immediate interests to the interests of humanity as such. That the general interests are also in the end the local interests is still far from the vision of the patriot. What the growth of nationalities with its consequent rise of international jealousies and hostilities has effected in civil society, has been brought about in matters spiritual by the divisions of Christendom. The various bodies into which Christendom has been split up are infected with the same sort of localism as infects the state. They dwell with pride upon their own peculiarities, and treat with suspicion if not with contempt the peculiarities of other bodies. The effort to induce the members of any body of Christians to appreciate what belongs to others, or to try to construe Christianity in terms of a true Catholicity, is almost hopeless. All attempts at the restoration of the visible unity of the Church have been wrecked, and seem destined for long to be wrecked, on the rocks of local pride and local interests. The motives which in secular affairs lead a man to put, not only his body and his goods, as he ought, at the disposal of his country; but also induce him to surrender his mind to the prevailing party and shout, "My country, right or wrong," in matters ecclesiastical lead him to cry, "My Church, right or wrong." It is only by transcending this localism that we can hope for progress in Church or State--can hope to conquer the wars and fightings among our members that make peace impossible. This infection of localism is not peculiar to any body of Christians. The Oriental Churches have been largely state-bound for centuries, and, in addition, have been mentally immobile. The Roman Church with its claims to exclusive ownership of the Christian Religion has lost the vision it once had and subordinated the Catholic interests of the Church to the local interests of the Papacy. The fragments of Protestantism are too small any longer to claim the universalism claimed by the East and West, and perforce acknowledge their partial character; but it is only to indulge in a more acute patriotism, and assertion of rights of division, and the supremacy of the local over the general. The Churches of the Anglican Rite are less bound, perhaps, than others. They are restless under the limitations of localism and are haunted by a vision of an unrealized Catholicity; but they are torn by internal divisions and find their attempts at movement in any direction thwarted by the pull of opposing parties. One result of the mental attitude generated by the conditions indicated above is that any attempt to deal with subjects other than those which are authorized because they are customary, or tolerated because they are familiar, is liable to be greeted with cries of reproach and accusations of disloyalty. Such and such teachings we are told, without much effort at proof, are contrary to the teachings of the Anglican Church, or are not in harmony with that teaching, or are illegitimate attempts to bring in doctrines or practices which were definitely rejected by our fathers at the Reformation. Those who are implicated in such attempts are told that they are disturbers of the peace of the Church and are invited to go elsewhere. As one who is not guiltless of such attempts, and as one who is becoming accustomed to be charged with novelty in teaching, and disloyalty in practice to that which is undoubtedly and historically Anglican, I have been compelled to ask myself, "What is loyalty to the Anglican Church? Is there, in fact, some peculiar and limited form of Christianity to which I owe allegiance?" I had got accustomed to think of myself as a Catholic Christian whose lot was cast in a certain province of the Catholic Church which was administratively separated from other parts of that Church. This I felt--this separation--to be unfortunate; but I was not responsible for it, and would be glad to do anything that I could to end it. I had not thought that this administrative separation from other provinces of the Catholic Church meant that I was pledged to a different religion; I had not thought of there being an Anglican Religion. I have all my life, in intention and as far as I know, accepted the whole Catholic Faith of which it is said in a Creed accepted by the Anglican Church that "except a man believe faithfully he cannot be saved." I do not intend to believe any other Faith than that, and I intend to believe all of that; and I have not thought of myself as other than a loyal Anglican in so doing. But criticism has led me to go back over the whole question and ask whether there is any indication anywhere in the approved documents of the Anglican Communion of an intention at all to depart from the Faith of Christendom as it was held by the whole Catholic Church, East and West, at the time when an administrative separation from Rome was effected. Was a new faith at any time introduced? Has there at any time been any official action of the Anglican Church to limit my acceptance of the historic Faith? That many Anglican writers have denied many articles of the Catholic Faith I of course knew to be true. That some Anglican writer could be found who had denied every article of the Catholic Faith I thought quite possible. But I was not interested in the beliefs or practices of individuals. I am not at all interested in what opinions may or may not have been held by Cranmer at various stages of his career, or what opinions may be unearthed from the writings of Bale by experts in immoral literature; I am interested solely in the official utterances of the Anglican Communion. In following out this line of investigation I have spent many weeks in the reading of many dreary documents: but fortunately documents are not important in proportion to the element of excitement they contain. I have read the documents contained in the collection of Gee and Hardy entitled "Documents Illustrative of English Church History." I have read the "Formularies of Faith Put Forth by Authority during the Reign of Henry VIII." I have read Cardwell's "Synodalia." And I have also read "Certain Sermons or Homilies Appointed to be read in Churches at the time of Queen Elizabeth of Famous Memory." I doubt whether any other extant human being has read them. And the upshot of the whole matter is that in none of these documents have I found any expressed intention to depart from the Faith of the Catholic Church of the past as that Faith had been set forth by authority. No doubt in the Homilies there are things said which cannot be reconciled with the Faith of Catholic Christendom. But the Homilies are of no binding authority, and I have included them in my investigation only because I wanted their point of view. That is harmonious with the rest of the authoritative documents--the intention is to hold the Faith: unfortunately the knowledge of some of the writers was not as pure as their intention. The point that I am concerned with is this: there is no intention anywhere shown in the authoritative documents of the Anglican Church to effect a change in religion, or to break with the religion which had been from the beginning taught and practised in England. The Reformation did not mean the introduction of a new religion, but was simply a declaration of governmental independence. I will quote somewhat at length from the documents for the purpose of showing that there is no indication of an intention to set up a new Church. One or two quotations from pre-reformation documents will make clear the customary phraseology in England during the Middle Ages. King John's Ecclesiastical Charter of 1214 uses the terms "Church of England" and "English Church." The Magna Charta of 1215 grants that the "Church of England shall be free and have her rights intact, and her liberties uninjured." The Articuli Cleri of 1316 speak of the "English Church." The Second Statute of Provisors of 1390 uses the title "The Holy Church of England." "The English Church" is the form used in the Act "De Hæretico Comburendo" of 1401, as it is also in "the Remonstrance against the Legatine Powers of Cardinal Beaufort" of 1428[1]. [Footnote 1: Documents in Gee & Hardy.] These quotations will suffice to show the customary way of speaking of the Church in England. If this customary way of speaking went on during and after the Reformation the inference is that there had no change taken place in the way of men's thinking about the Church; that they were unconscious of having created a new or a different Church. We know that the Protestant bodies on the Continent and the later Protestant bodies in England did change their way of thinking about the Church from that of their fathers and consequently their way of speaking of it. But the formal documents of the Church of England show no change. "The Answer of the Ordinaries" of 1532 appeals as authoritative to the "determination of Scripture and Holy Church," and to the determination of "Christ's Catholic Church." The "Conditional Restraint of Annates" of 1532 protests that the English "as well spiritual as temporal, be as obedient, devout, catholic, and humble children of God and Holy Church, as any people be within any realm christened." In the Act for "The Restraint of Appeals" of 1533, which is the act embodying the legal principle of the English Reformation, it is the "English Church" which acts. The statement in the "Act Forbidding Papal Dispensations and the Payment of Peter's Pence" of 1534 is entirely explicit as to the intention of the English authorities. It declares that nothing in this Act "shall be hereafter interpreted or expounded that your grace, your nobles and subjects intend, by the same, to decline or vary from the congregation of Christ's Church in any things concerning the very articles of the Catholic Faith of Christendom[2]." [Footnote 2: Gee & Hardy.] These documents date from the reign of Henry VIII. In the same reign another series of authoritative documents was put forth which contains the same teaching as to the Church. "The Institution of a Christian Man" set forth in 1536, in the article on the Church has this: "I believe assuredly--that there is and hath been from the beginning of the world, and so shall endure and continue forever, one certain number, society, communion, or company of the elect and faithful people of God.... And I believe assuredly that this congregation ... is, in very deed the city of heavenly Jerusalem ... the holy catholic church, the temple or habitacle of God, the pure and undefiled espouse of Christ, the very mystical body of Christ," "The Necessary Doctrine and Erudition for any Christian Man" of 1543 in treating of the faith declares that "all those things which were taught by the apostles, and have been by an whole universal consent of the church of Christ ever sith that time taught continually, ought to be received, accepted, and kept, as a perfect doctrine apostolic." It is further taught in the same document in the eighth article, that on "The Holy Catholic Church," that the Church is "catholic, that is to say, not limited to any one place or region of the world, but is in every place universally through the world where it pleaseth God to call people to him in the profession of Christ's name and faith, be it in Europe, Africa, or Asia. And all these churches in divers countries severally called, although for the knowledge of the one from the other among them they have divers additions of names, and for their most necessary government, as they be distinct in places, so they have distinct ministers and divers heads in earth, governors and rulers, yet be all these holy churches but one holy church catholic, invited and called by one God the Father to enjoy the benefit of redemption wrought by our Lord and Saviour Jesu Christ, and governed by one Holy Spirit, which teacheth this foresaid one truth of God's holy word in one faith and baptism[3]." [Footnote 3: Formularies of Faith in the Reign of Henry VIII.] With the accession of Edward VI. the Protestant element in the Reformation gained increased influence. Our question is, Did it succeed in imprinting a new theory of the nature and authority of the Church on the formal and authoritative utterances of the Church in England? The first "Act of Uniformity" of 1549 contains the now familiar appeal to Scripture and to the primitive Church, and the Book set forth is called "The Book of Common Prayer and Administration of the Sacraments, and other Rites and Ceremonies of the Church, after the Use of the Church of England." The "Second Act of Uniformity," 1552, uses the same language about the Church of England and the primitive Church. Passing on to the reign of Elizabeth, in the "Injunctions" of 1559 there is set forth "a form of bidding the prayers," which begins: "Ye shall pray for Christ's Holy Catholic Church, that is for the whole congregation of Christian people dispersed throughout the whole world, and especially for the Church of England and Ireland." In the "Act of Supremacy" of the same year it is provided that an opinion shall "be ordered, or adjudged to be heresy, by the authority of the canonical Scriptures, or by the first four general Councils, or any of them, or by any other general Council wherein the same was declared heresy by the express and plain words of the said canonical Scriptures." This test of doctrine is repeated in Canon VI of the Canons of 1571. "Preachers shall ... see to it that they teach nothing in the way of a sermon ... save what is agreeable to the teaching of the Old or New Testament, and what the Catholic fathers and ancient bishops have collected from this self-same doctrine[4]." [Footnote 4: Documents in Gee & Hardy.] It is hardly worth while to spend much time on the Homilies. I will simply note that they continue the appeal to the primitive Church which is asserted to have been holy, godly, pure and uncorrupt; and to the "old holy fathers and most ancient learned doctors" which are quoted as authoritative against later innovations. They still speak of the Church of England as continuous with the past. I do not find that they treat the contemporary reformers as of authority or quote them as against the traditional teaching of the Church. We will go on to one more stage, that is, to the Canons of 1604 which represent the mind of the Church of England at the time of the accession of James I. They declare that "whosoever shall hereafter affirm, That the Church of England, by law established under the King's majesty, is not a true and an apostolical church, teaching and maintaining the doctrine of the apostles; let him be excommunicated." (III) They appeal to the "Ancient fathers of the Church, led by the example of the apostles." (XXXI) In treating of the use of the sign of the Cross in baptism they assert that its use follows the "rules of Scripture and the practice of the primitive Church." And further, "This use of the sign of the Cross in baptism was held in the primitive Church, as well by the Greeks as the Latins, with one consent and great applause." And replying to the argument from abuse the canon goes on: "But the abuse of a thing doth not take away the lawful use of it. Nay, so far was it from the purpose of the Church of England to forsake and reject the Churches of Italy, France, Spain, Germany, or any such like Churches, in all things that they held and practised, that, as the Apology of the Church of England confesseth, it doth with reverence retain those ceremonies, which do neither endanger the Church of God, nor offend the minds of sober men." (XXX) It appears clear from a study of the passages quoted and of many others of kindred nature that the Anglican Church did not start out upon its separate career with any intention of becoming a sect; it did not complain of the corruption of the existing religion and declare its purpose to show to the world what true and pure religion is. It did not put forward as the basis of its action the existing corruption of doctrine, but the corruption of administration. Its claim was a claim to manage its own local affairs, and was put into execution when the Convocation of Canterbury voted in the negative on the question submitted to it, viz., "Whether the Roman pontiff has any greater jurisdiction bestowed on him by God in Holy Scripture in this realm of England, than any other foreign bishop?" The attitude indicated is one that has been characteristic of the Anglican Church ever since. It has always been restless in the presence of a divided Christendom; the sin of the broken unity has always haunted it. It never has taken the smug attitude of sectarianism, a placid self-satisfaction with its own perfection. It has felt the constant pull of the Catholic ideal and has been inspired by it to make effort after effort for the union of Christendom. It has never lost the sense that it was in itself not complete but a part of a greater whole. It has never seen in the existing shattered state of the Christian Church anything but the evidences of sin. Its appeal has constantly been, not to its own sufficiency for the determination of all questions, but to the Scriptures as interpreted by the undivided Church. If it has at times been prone to overstress the authority of some ideal and undefined primitive Church, it was because it thought that there and there only could the Catholic Church be found speaking in its ideal unity. This the attitude of the Anglican Church of the past is its attitude to-day. The Lambeth Conference of 1920 gave voice to it: "The Conference urges on every branch of the Anglican Communion that it should prepare its members for taking their part in the universal fellowship of the re-united Church, by setting before them the loyalty which they owe to the universal Church, and the charity and understanding which are required of the members of so inclusive a society." Commenting upon this utterance of the Lambeth Conference the three bishops who are the joint authors of "Lambeth and Reunion" say: The bishops at Lambeth "beg for loyalty to the universal Church. The doctrinal standards of the undivided Church must not be ignored. Nor must modern developments, consistent with the past, be ruled out merely because they are modern. Men must hold strongly what they have received; but they must forsake the policy of denying one another's positive presentment of truth. That only must be forbidden which the universal fellowship cannot conceivably accept within any one of its groups[5]." [Footnote 5: Lambeth and Rennion. By the bishops of Peterborough, Zanzibar and Hereford.] The bishops just quoted add: "We rejoice indeed at this new mind of the Lambeth Conference." Whether it is a new mind in Lambeth Conferences we need not consider; it is certainly no new mind in the Anglican Church, but is precisely its characteristic attitude of not claiming perfection or finality for itself, but of looking beyond itself to Catholic Christendom, and longing for the time when reunion of the churches which now make up its "broken unity" will enable it to speak with the same voice of authority with which it did in its primitive and undivided state. In attempting to decide what as a priest of the Anglican Communion one may or may not teach or practice, one is bound to have regard, not to what is asserted by anyone, even by any bishop, to be "disloyal" or "unanglican," but to the principles expressed or implied in the utterances of the Church itself. From those utterances as I have reviewed them, it appears to me that a number of general principles may be deduced for the guidance of conduct. I. The Churches of the Anglican Communion are bound by the entire body of Catholic dogma formulated and accepted universally in the pre-Reformation Church. The Anglican documents, to be sure, speak constantly of the "Primitive Church," but they do not anywhere define what they mean by that; and frequently, by their appeal to the "undivided Church," and to "general Councils," they seem to include in their undefined term much more than is commonly understood. In any case, the Church has no special authority because it is _primitive_: its authority results not from its being primitive but from its being _Church_. The only point of the Anglican appeal would be the universal acceptance of a given doctrine. Such universal acceptance must be taken as proof of its primitiveness, that is, of its being contained, explicitly or implicitly, in the original deposit of faith. The Anglican Church was content with the summing up of this Faith in the Three Creeds, and attempted to formulate no new Greed of her own--the XXXIX Articles are not strictly a Creed: they are not articles of Faith but of Religion. But the very history of the Creeds implies that they are not final, that is, complete, but that they are a summing up of the Catholic Religion to date. There are truths which the circumstances of the Church in the Conciliar period had not brought into prominence which later events compelled the Church to express its mind upon. Such a truth is that of the Real Presence of our Lord in the Sacrament of the Altar. This truth had attained explicit acceptance throughout the Church before the Reformation, sufficiently witnessed by the liturgies in use. It is also embodied in the Anglican liturgy. If anyone thinks the language of the Anglican Church doubtful on this point, the principles enunciated by the Church compel interpretation in accord with the mind of the universal Church. There are other truths which are binding on us on the same basis of universal consent, but I am not seeking to apply the principle in every case but only to illustrate it. II. There is another class of truths or doctrines widely held in Christendom, which yet cannot be classed as dogmas of the faith. Such a doctrine is that of the Immaculate Conception of the Blessed Virgin Mary. This doctrine has been made of faith in the Roman communion, but has not yet ecumenical acceptance, and therefore may be doubted without sin by members of the Greek or Anglican Churches. What we need to avoid, as the Lambeth Conference has reminded us, is a purely insular and provincial attitude in relation to doctrines which have not been formally set forth by Anglican authority. The Anglican Church has tried its best to impress upon us that there is no such thing as an Anglican Religion; there is but one Religion--the Religion of God's Catholic Church. What we are to seek to know is not the mind "of the Anglican reformers," or the mind "of the Caroline divines," but the mind of the Catholic Church. Wherever we shall find that mind expressed, though in terms unfamiliar to us, we are bound to treat it with respect. We are to seek to know the truth that the truth may make us free--from all pride and prejudice, as well as from heresy and blasphemy. And we shall best come at this mind in its widest meaning by the study of the writings of the saints of all ages and of all parts of the Church. It may fairly be inferred that those who have attained great perfection in the Catholic life have achieved it by the application of Catholic truth to every day living. III. The members of the Anglican Church have the same freedom as other Catholics in the matter of theological speculation. What was done at the Reformation was not final in the sense that we are never to believe or to teach anything that is not found in Anglican formularies. The fact that a certain doctrine like that of the Invocation of Saints was omitted from the Anglican formularies is not fatal to its practice. The grounds of its omission in practice may or may not have been well judged. But the theory of it was never denied, it is indeed contained in the Creeds themselves, and change in circumstances may justify its revival in practice. Moreover, the theology of the Christian Church is not a body of static doctrine, but is the expression of the ceaseless meditation of the saints upon the truths revealed to us by God. To suppose that any age whatever has exhausted the meaning of the Revealed Truth would be absurd. It is inexhaustible. So long as the mind of the Church is pondering it, it brings out from it things old and new. Among ourselves it is perhaps at present more desirable that we should bring out the old things than seek to find the new. The historic circumstances of the Anglican Church have been such as to lead to the practical disuse of much that is of great spiritual value in the treasury of the Church. It is largely in the attempt to bring into use the riches that have been abandoned that some are to-day incurring the charge of disloyalty--a charge that they are not careful to answer, if they may be permitted to minister to a larger spiritual life in the Church they love. At the same time the development of doctrine is a real mode of enrichment of the theology of the Church. The devout mind pondering divine truth will ever penetrate deeper into its meaning. Thus it was that in the course of centuries the Church arrived at a complete statement of the doctrine of our Lord's person. And what it could rightly do in the supreme case, it surely can rightly do in cases of lesser moment. We need not be afraid of this movement of thought, for the mind of the united Church may be trusted not to sanction any error. Our Lord has promised that the gates of hell shall not prevail against the Church. We can trust Him to fulfil His promise. He has also promised us that the Holy Spirit shall lead us into all the truth. Can He trust us not to thwart the work of the Spirit by a provincial attitude as of those who already in the utterances of the Anglican formularies claim to possess all truth? IV. There is one other inference to be drawn from what I conceive to be the Anglican position, and that is one that relates, not primarily to doctrine but to practice. For many years now the Anglican Churches have been greatly disturbed by varieties of practice, though it is difficult to see why varieties of practice should be in themselves disturbing. But without going into that matter, which would carry us far afield, I would simply state that the principle already laid down in regard to doctrine seems to apply here in the matter of practice: that is, the Anglican has the right to use any practice which has not been explicitly forbidden by the authorities of the local Church. The Churches of the Anglican Communion have never set forth any competent guide for the conduct of worship, and by refraining from so doing have left the matter in the hands of those who have to conduct services and provide for the spiritual needs of those over whom they have been given cure of souls. There is nothing more absurd than to assume that nothing rightly can be done in these matters except what has been directed by authority; that no services can be held but such as have formal authorization; that no ceremonies can be introduced but such as the custom of the time since the Reformation has made familiar to many. In such matters authority naturally and necessarily goes along with the cure of souls; the priest of the parish must perforce provide for the spiritual needs of his parish. If he finds those needs satisfied with the rendering of Morning and Evening Prayer--well and good; but those who do not find the needs of their parish so satisfied must seek to satisfy them by the providing of other spiritual means. And in seeking thus to provide for the spiritual growth of souls committed to his care, the priest, on the principles of the Anglican formularies, is justified and entitled to make use of the means in use throughout Catholic Christendom. He is quite justified in calling his people together for a prayer meeting, if in his judgment that will be for their spiritual good; or if his judgment is different, he is equally justified in inviting them to join him in saying the rosary. He may incite to greater devotion by a shortened form of Evening Prayer or by popular Vespers. I do not think that there is anything in the Christian Religion or in the formularies of the Anglican Church that forbids him to have moving pictures or special musical services. Nor is there any reason why, if it be in his judgment promotive of holiness, he should not provide for his parish such services as Benediction of the Blessed Sacrament. There can be no legitimate criticism of a service on the ground of its _provenance_. It is a common reproach against the Anglican Communion that is "does not know its own mind." It would be much truer to say that there are many members of it who have been at no pains to ascertain whether it have a mind or what that mind is: who have been content to confound the mind of the Church with the mind of the party to which they are attached by the accident of birth or of preference. I do not for a moment contend that the party (to use an ugly but necessary word) to which I am attached stands, in all things, in perfect alignment with the Anglican Formularies. There are circumstances in which it appears to me to be necessary to appeal from Anglican action to the mind of that larger Body, the whole Church of Christ throughout the world, to which the Anglican Church points me as its own final authority. In so doing I do not feel that I am disloyal, but that I am actually doing what authority tells me to do. These are cases in point. I do not believe that a local Church can suppress and permanently disuse sacraments of the universal Church. The Anglican Church by its suppression of the sacraments of Unction and by its almost universal disuse for centuries of the sacrament of Penance, compelled those who would be loyal to the Catholic Church to which it appealed to act on their own initiative in the revival of the use of those sacraments. I do not believe that the local Church has the right or the power to forbid or permanently disuse customs which are of universal currency in the Catholic Church. I do not believe that it has the right to neglect and fail to enforce the Catholic custom of fasting, and especially of fasting before communion. I do not believe that any Christian who is informed on these things has the right to neglect them on the ground that the Anglican Church has not enforced them. On the basis of its own declarations the ecumenical overrides the local; and if it be said, "What is a priest, that he should undertake to set the practice of his Church right?" the answer is that he is a man having cure of souls for whose progress in holiness he is responsible before God, and if those who claim authority in such matters will not act, he must act, though it be at the risk of his immortal soul. These things seem to be true with the truth of self-evidence. And because they seem to be true, I have not hesitated to preach, and now to print, the sermons on the life and words of our Lady contained in this volume. I am told by many that such teaching is dangerous, but I am not told by any of any danger that is intelligible to me. That such devotions to our Lady as are here commended trench on the prerogative of God, and exalt our Lady above the place of a creature is sufficiently answered by the fact that the very act of asking the prayers of Blessed Mary is an assertion of her creaturehood--one does not ask the prayers of God. And when it is said that devotion to her takes away from devotion to her Son, one has only to ask in reply, who as a matter of fact have maintained and do maintain unflinchingly the divinity of our Lord? Certainly the denials of the divinity of our Lord are found where there is also a denial that any honor is due or may rightly be given to His Blessed Mother; and where that Mother receives the highest honor, there we never for a moment doubt that the full Godhead of Jesus will be unflinchingly and unhesitatingly maintained. Wherefore in praise, the worthiest that I may, Jesu! of thee, and the white Lily-flower Which did thee bear, and is a Maid for aye, To tell a story I will use my power; Not that I may increase her honour's dower, For she herself is honour, and the root Of goodness, next her Son, our soul's best boot. O Mother Maid! O Maid and Mother free! O bush unburnt; burning in Moses' sight! That down didst ravish from the Deity, Through humbleness, the spirit that did alight Upon thy heart, whence, through that glory's might, Conceived was the Father's sapience, Help me to tell it in thy reverence. Lady! thy goodness, thy magnificance, Thy virtue, and thy great humility, Surpass all science and all utterance; For sometimes, Lady, ere men pray to thee Thou goest before in thy benignity, The light to us vouchsafing of thy prayer, To be our guide unto thy Son so dear. My knowledge is so weak, O blissful Queen! To tell abroad thy mighty worthiness, That I the weight of it may not sustain; But as a child of twelve months old or less, Even so fare I; and therefore, I thee pray, Guide thou my song which I of thee shall say. Chaucer. The Prioress' Tale. Version by Wordsworth. PART ONE CHAPTER II THE MEANING OF WORSHIP O Lord Jesus Christ, from whom all holy thoughts do come; who hast taught thy servants to honour thy glorious mother; mercifully grant us so to celebrate her on earth with the solemn sacrifice of praise and with due devotion, that by her intercession we may be found worthy to reign in joy in heaven. Who livest &c. SARUM MISSAL. There are thoughts and actions which so enter the daily conduct of our lives that we take them for granted and never pause to analyse them. If perchance something occurs to make us ask what these thoughts and actions truly and deeply mean we are surprised to find that we have, in fact, no adequate understanding of them. We have a feeling about them and we are quite sure that this feeling is a good and right one. We have ends that we are seeking and we are satisfied that the ends are in all ways desirable. But suddenly confronted with the question why, unexpectedly asked to explain, to justify ourselves, we find ourselves dumb. We cannot find adequate exposition for what we nevertheless know that we are justified in. It is so with much that we admire; we have never tried to justify our admiration, have never thought that it needed an explanation; and then, unexpectedly, we find ourselves challenged, we find our taste criticised, and in our efforts at self-defence we blunder and stumble and hesitate about what we still feel that we are quite right in holding fast. It is common things that we thus take for granted; it is daily activities that we thus assume need no explanation. For us who habitually gather to the services of the Church there is no more taken-for-granted act than worship. Worship is a part of our daily experience. At certain times each day we offer to God stated and formal acts of worship. Many times a day most likely we pause and for a moment lift our thought to our blessed Lord for a brief communion with Him. It is a part of our settled experience thus to draw strength from the inexhaustible source which at all times is at our disposal. We know how the tasks of the day are lightened and our strength to meet them renewed by these momentary invasions of the supernatural. There are also special times in each week when we meet with other members of the One Body of Christ in the offering of the unbloody Sacrifice. We know that in that act heaven and earth join, and that not only our brethren who are kneeling beside us are uniting with us in the offering of the Sacrifice, not only are we one with all those other members of the Body who on this same morning are kneeling at the numberless altars of Christendom, but that all those who are in Christ are with us partakers of the same Sacrifice, and that in its offering we are joined with all the holy dead, and by our partaking of Christ are brought close to one another. We therefore lovingly take their names upon our lips, and enkindle their memory in our hearts; and find that death, which we had thought of as a separation, has but broken the barriers to the deepest and most blessed communion, and that we are now, as never before, united to those whom we find in Christ Jesus our Lord. And then comes the unexpected challenge: "what does all this mean: these repeated and diverse acts that you are accustomed to speak of and to think of as acts of worship? What, ultimately, do you mean by worship, and can there possibly be found any common feature in these so diverse acts which can justify you in regarding them as essentially one? This act which is in truth presenting yourself before the majesty of God in humble adoration, in the guise of a suppliant child depending upon the love of the Father for the supply of the daily needs; or this other act which is of such deepest mystery that we approach any attempted statement of it with awe, which is in fact the representation of the sacrifice of Calvary; and then these invocations by which we ask the loving co-operation of our fellow members of Christ that they may associate themselves with us in the work of prayer and mutual intercession--how can all these acts be brought together under a common rubric, how can they all be designated as worship? What in fact is it that you mean by worship?" So are we challenged. So are we thrown back, and in the end thrown back most beneficially, to the analysis of our acts. Worship, we tell ourselves, is _worth_-ship; it is the attribution of worth or honor to whom these are properly due. "Honour to whom honour is due," we hear the Apostle saying. Worship is therefore not an absolute value but a varying value, the content of any act of which will be determined by the nature of the object toward which it is directed. It is greatly like love in this respect; its nature is always the same, but its present value is determined by the object to which it is directed. We are to love the Lord our God, and we are also to love our neighbour; the nature of the love is in each case the same; and yet we are not to love our neighbour with the limitless self-surrender with which we love God. The love of God is the passionate giving of ourselves to Him with all our heart and with all our soul and with all our mind and with all our strength. The love of the neighbour is measured and restrained, having in view his good that we are seeking, the promotion of his salvation as our fellow member in the Body of Christ. In the same way worship will take its colour, its significance, its tone, its intensity, not from some abstract conception, but from the end it seeks. This is made plain, too, when we look at our Bibles and Prayer Books for the actual use of the word. There we find much of the worship of God: but we also find a limited use of the word. "Then shalt thou have worship in the presence of them that sit at meat with thee." (S. Luke, XIV, 10.) And in the marriage service of the English Prayer Book we read: "With this ring I thee wed, and with my body I thee worship." The same limited content of the word is found in the old title of respect--"Your Worship." But so thoroughly has the word worship become associated with our approach to God, that we still, many of us, no doubt, feel the shock of the unaccustomed when we hear the worship of the Blessed Virgin or of the saints spoken of. It does not help us much to fall back on the Latin word, _Cultus_, for we understand that the meaning is the same. We are helped, I think, if we substitute the parallel word honour for worship in the places of its use. We meet in the Church to honour God, and we offer the Blessed Sacrifice as the act of supreme honour which is due to Him alone; but in connection with the supreme honour offered to God we also honour the saints of God by the observance of their anniversaries with special services including the Holy Sacrifice. The word honour does not sound so ill to ears unaccustomed to a certain type of Catholic expression as the word worship: but the meaning is untouched. Let us go on then to the analysis of the notion of worship. In the writings of theologians we find an analysis of the notion of worship into three degrees. There is, first of all, that supreme degree of worship which is called _latria_ and which is the worship due to God alone. If we ask what essentially it is that differentiates _latria_ from all other degrees of worship or honour we find that it is the element of sacrifice that it contains. Sacrifice is the supreme act of self-surrender to another, of utter self-immolation, and it can have no other legitimate object than God Himself. The central notion of sacrifice is the surrender of self. The sacrifices of the Old Covenant were of value because they were the representatives of the nation and of the individuals who offered them; because of the self-identification of nation or individual with the thing offered, which must therefore be in some sense the offerer's, must, so to say, _contain him_: must be that in which he merges himself. So the one Sacrifice of the New Covenant gets its essential value in that it is the surrender of the Son to the will of the Father. "I am come to do Thy will, O God." Christ's sacrifice is self-sacrifice: the voluntary surrender of the whole life to the divine purpose. And when we actually worship God, worship Him with the worship of _latria_, our act must be of the same essential nature; it must be an act of sacrifice, of self-giving; the offering of ourselves to the will of the Father. So it is in our participation in the offering of the Blessed Sacrifice. The full meaning of our joining in that act is that we are uniting ourselves with our Lord's offering of Himself, and as members of His Body share in the sacrifice of the Body which is the supreme act of worship. And our other acts of worship lay hold on and proceed from this which is the ground of their efficacy. All our subordinate acts of worship, so to call them, have their character and vitality as Christian acts of the worship of God because of the relation of the worshipper to God as a member of the Body of His Son. They are offered through the Son and derive their potency from their association with Him and His sacrifice. They reach God through the sacrifice of the One Mediator. Worship, then, in this complete sense, is due to God alone; and it is separated by a whole heaven from any worship, that is, honour, which can be offered to any creature, however exalted. No instructed person would for a moment imagine that the prayers which we address to the saints are in any degree such worship as is offered to God; but in as much as those who are unfamiliar with the forms of the Catholic Religion in its devotional expression may easily be led astray, it seems needful to stress this fact of the difference between simple petition and such acts and prayers as involve the highest degree of worship. One of the chief sources of confusion in this matter is the failure to distinguish between the nature of the act of worship, which is determined by the person to whom it is directed, and the mere adjuncts of the act. But an act of _latria_ is not constituted such by the fact that it is aided in its expression by such circumstances as banners, lights, incense and so on. These are quite appropriate to any act of honour, and have been customarily so used in relation to human beings. There was a certain hesitation in the Church for some time in the matter of incense which under the older Covenant had been especially appropriated to God, because in the experience of the early Church it was demanded, and necessarily refused, as an acknowledgment of the divinity of the Emperor. But with the passing of the pagan empire incense as the universal symbol of prayer came into use in all manner of services wherein intercession was a part. Such adjuncts therefore are not foreign to those subordinate acts of worship or honour which are technically known as _dulia. Dulia_--this word means service--is such honour as may be rightly rendered to creatures without at all encroaching upon the majesty of God. It is _that_ degree of worship that we have in mind when we speak of the worship of the saints. That _dulia_ of the saints is expressed when we ask for the intercession of this or that saint, and is not essentially different from the asking for the prayers of any other human beings. We commonly ask for one another's prayers and feel that in doing so we are exercising our brotherhood in the Body of Christ in calling into action its mutual love and sympathy. We should be beyond measure astonished if we were told that such requests for the prayers of our brethren were encroachments upon the honour of God and the sin of idolatry! But if in this case our surprise is justified, it is difficult to see how the case is at all altered by the fact that the fellow members of the Body whose prayers we are asking happen to be _dead_, that is, as we believe and imply in our request for their intercession, have passed into a new and closer relation to our Blessed Lord. Nor, again, does the case seem to be at all altered, if the brother whose prayers we ask has been dead a long time, and has, by the common consent of Catholic Christendom, been received into the number of the saints. The ways in which the human mind works under the influence of prejudice are always interesting. There are many devout persons who feel that it is a valuable element in their religion to have the privilege of following the Kalendar of the Church and to keep the saints' days therein indicated by attendance at divine service; who yet would be horrified if it were suggested that a prayer should be offered to the saint whose day is being observed, and that the saint should be made the object of an act of worship. But what essentially _is_ the keeping of a saint's day, with a celebration of the Holy Communion with special collect, epistle and gospel, but an act of worship _(dulia)_ of the saint? The nature of the act would be in no way changed if in addition to our accustomed collects there were added one which plainly asked for the prayers of the saint in whose honour we are keeping the feast. In the worship of the Church of God a place apart is assigned to the honour to be paid to the blessed Mother of our Lord. As the highest of all creatures, as highly favoured above all, as she whom God chose to be the Mother of His Son, the devout thought of generations of Christians has felt that their recognition of her relation to God in the Incarnation called for a special degree of honour rightly to express it. The thought of the faithful lingers about all that was in any degree associated with the coming of God in the flesh: so great was the deliverance thereby wrought for man that man's gratitude ever seeks new means of expression and ever finds the means inadequate to his love. Many of the expressions that are found in devotional writers associated with the cultus of the Blessed Virgin Mary are an outcome of this attitude of mind. To those who are unused to them they seem exaggerated; in the vast mass of the devotional writings of Catholic Christendom there is no difficulty in finding expressions which _are_ exaggerated; but it is well to remember when thinking of this that the exaggeration is the exaggeration of love. The tendency of love _is_ to exaggerate the forms of its expression. It is, however, we feel on reflection, an error to judge by the exaggeration rather than by the love. It is perhaps well to ask ourselves whether we are saved from exaggeration by greater sanity or by lesser love. But exaggeration apart, this feeling of the unique position of the blessed Mother in relation to the Incarnate Son, as calling forth a special honour for her is embodied in the designation of the honour to be rendered her as _hyperdulia_--a specially devoted service. It is hardly necessary after what has been said to point out that even here in the highest honour rendered to any saint there is no passing of the infinite gulf which separates Creator from creature, any infringement upon the honour of God. No Catholic could dream that blessed Mary would be in any wise honoured by the attribution to her of what belongs to her Son. These are no doubt commonplaces, but it is better to be commonplace than to be misunderstood. The intercession that is asked of the blessed Mother is the intercession of one who by God's election is more closely associated with God than any other human being is or can be. Her power of prayer is felt to proceed from the depth of her sanctity; from, in other words, the perfection of her relation to her blessed Son Who is the only Mediator and the Saviour of us all. Let me say in conclusion that this giving of honour to our Lord, and to all His saints as united to Him, and the celebration of their days according to the Church's year, and the asking of the help of their intercession in all the needs of our lives, is not simply a thing to be tolerated in those who are inclined to it, is not simply a privilege which we are entitled to if we care for it, but is a duty which all Christians ought to fulfil because otherwise they are failing to make real to them a very important article of the Christian Creed. The Communion of Saints, like all other articles of the Creed, needs to be put into active use, and will be when we believe it as distinguished from assent to it. When we believe that all who live unto God in the Body of His dear Son are inspired with active love one toward another, we shall ourselves feel the impulse of that love, and be compelled both to seek an outlet for it toward all other members of the Body, and also will equally feel compelled to seek our own share in the action of that love by asking for the prayers of the saints for ourselves and for all in whom we are interested. Then will we find in the "worship of the saints" one great means whereby we can worship the God of the saints by the devout recognition of the greatness of His work in them, May God be praised and glorified in all His saints. O Virgin Mother, daughter of thy Son, Lowly, and higher than all creatures raised, Term by eternal council fixed upon, Thou art she who didst ennoble man, That even He who had created him To be Himself His creature disdained not. Within thy womb rekindled was the love, By virtue of whose heat this flower thus Is blossoming in the eternal peace. Here thou art unto us a noon-day torch Of charity, and among mortal men Below, thou art a living fount of hope. Lady, thou art so great and so prevailest, That who seeks grace without recourse to thee, Would have his wish fly upward without wings. Thy loving-kindness succors not alone Him who is seeking it, but many times Freely anticipates the very prayer. In thee is mercy, pity is in thee, In thee magnificence, whatever good Is in created being joins in thee. Dante, Par. XXXIII, 1-21. (Trans. H. Johnson.) PART TWO CHAPTER I MARY OF NAZARETH Mary, of whom was born Jesus. S. Matt. I. 16. My Maker and Redeemer, Christ the Lord, O Immaculate, coming forth from thy womb, having taken my nature upon him, hath delivered Adam from the primal curse; wherefore, to thee, Immaculate, the Mother of God and Virgin in very sooth, we cry aloud unceasingly the Ave of the Angel, "Hail, O Lady, protection and shelter and salvation of our souls!" BYZANTINE. The silences of the Holy Scriptures have always provoked speculation as to what is left untold. The devout imagination has played about the hints we receive and woven them into stories which far outrun any true implication of the facts. Thus has much legendary matter gathered about the childhood of our Lord, containing the stories, not always very edifying according to our taste, which are set down in the Apocryphal Gospels. The same eagerness to know more than we are told has produced the developed legend of the childhood of our Lady. We can of course place no reliance on most of the statements that are there made; perhaps the most that we can lay hold of is the fact that S. Mary's father was Joachim and her mother Anna. The rest may be left to silence. But if the facts of the external life of Mary of Nazareth cannot be hoped for, certain general truths evidently follow from God's plan for her and from her relation to our Blessed Lord. There are certain inferences from her vocation which are irresistible and which the theologians of the Church did not fail to make as they thought of her function in relation to the Incarnation. We know that the work of Redemption by which it was God's purpose to lead back a sinful world to Himself was a purpose that worked from the very beginning of man's fatal separation from the source of his life and happiness. The essential meaning of Holy Scripture is that it is a history of the origin of God's purpose and of His bringing it to a successful issue in the mission of our Lord. In the Scriptures we are permitted to see the unfolding of the divine purpose and the preparation of the instruments by which the purpose is to be effected. We see the divine will struggling with the human will, and in appearance baffled again and again by the selfishness and the stupidity of man. We see too that the divine will is in the long run successful in securing a point of action in humanity, in winning the allegiance of men of good will to co-operation with the purpose of God. We see spiritual ideals assimilated, and sympathy with the work of God generated, until we feel that that work has gained a firm and enduring ground in humanity from which it can act. God is able to consummate His purpose, and men begin to understand in some measure the nature of the future deliverance and to look forward to the coming of One Who should be the embodiment of the divine action and the Representative of God Himself with a completeness which no previous messenger of God had ever attained. It we would understand the Old Testament we must find that its intimate note is preparation, just as the intimate note of the New Testament is accomplishment. God is working to a foreseen end, and is working as fast as men will consent to co-operate and become the instruments of His purpose. The purpose is not one that can be achieved by the exercise of power; it is a purpose of love and can be effected only through co-operating love. And as we watch the final unfolding of that purpose in the Incarnation of God, we more and more become conscious of the preparation of all the instruments of the purpose which are working in harmony for the revelation of the meaning of God. Of all the instruments of this divine purpose, one figure has preeminently fascinated the devout imagination because of her unique beauty, and has been the object of profound speculation because of the intimacy of her relation to God,--Mary of Nazareth. The vocabulary of love and reverence has exhausted itself in the attempt to express our estimate of her. The literature of Mariology is immense. And no one who has at all entered into the meaning of the Incarnation, of what is involved in eternal God taking human flesh, can wonder at this. Here at the crisis of the divine redeeming action, when the crowning mystery which angels desire to look into is being accomplished, we find the figure of a village maiden of Israel as the surprising instrument of the advent of God. We wonder: and we instinctively feel, that as all the other steps and instruments in God's redemption of man had from the beginning been carefully prepared, so shall we find preparation here. We understand that as God could not come in the flesh at any time, but only when the "fulness of time" had come; so He could not come of any woman, but only of such an one as He had prepared to be the instrument of His Incarnation. It is involved in the very intimacy of the relation which exists between our Lord and His blessed Mother that she should be unique in the human race. We feel that we are right in saying that the Incarnation which waited for the preparation of the world socially and spiritually, must also be thought of as waiting for the coming of the woman who would so completely surrender herself to the divine will that in her obedience could be founded the antidote to the disobedience which was founded in Eve. The race waited for the coming of the new mother who should be the instrument in the abolishing of the evil of which the first mother was the instrument. And from the very beginning of the thought of the Church about blessed Mary there was no doubt that it was implied in her office in bearing the God-Man that she should be without sin--sinless in the sense of never having in any least degree consented to evil the thought of the Church has ever held her to be. It was held incredible that she who by God's election bore in the sanctuary of her womb during the months of her child-bearing Him who was Lord and Creator and was come to save the world from all the stain and penalty of sin should herself be a sinner. Without actual sin, therefore, was Mary held to be from the time that the thought of the Church was turned upon her relation to our Blessed Lord[6]. [Footnote 6: It is true that a few writers among the Fathers see in blessed Mary traces of venial sin; who think of her intervention at Cana as presumptuous &c. But such notices are not of sufficient frequency or importance to break the general tradition.] For some time this seemed enough. It was not felt that any further thought about her sinlessness was needed. But as the uniqueness of Mary forced itself more and more upon the brooding thought of theologians and saints they were compelled to face the fact that her freedom from actual sin was not a full appreciation of her purity, was not an exhaustive treatment of her relation to our Lord. The doctrine of the nature of sin itself had been becoming clearer to the minds of Christian thinkers. All men are conceived and born in sin, it was seen. After S. Paul's teaching, the problem of _sin_ was not the problem of sins but the problem of sinfulness. The matter could not be left with the statement that all men do sin; the reason of their sinning must be traced out. And it was traced out, under S. Paul's guidance, to a ground of sin in nature itself, to a defect in man as he is born into the world. He does not become a sinner when he commits his first sin: he is born a sinner. In other words, the problem of man's sinfulness is the problem of original sin. What then do we mean by original sin? Briefly, we mean this. At his creation man was not only created innocent, but he was created in union with God, a union which conferred on him many supernatural gifts, gifts, that is, which were not a part of his nature, but were in the way of an addition to his nature. "By created nature man is endowed with moral sense, and is thus made responsible for righteousness; but he is unequal to its fulfilment. The all-righteous Creator could be trusted to complete His work. He endowed primitive man with superadded gifts of grace, especially the supernatural gift, _donum supernaturale_, of the Holy Spirit[7]." [Footnote 7: Hall, Dogmatic Theology, V, 263.] Our purpose does not require us further to particularize these gifts and our time does not permit it. We are concerned with this: the effect of man's sin was, what the effect of sin always is, to separate man from God. To sin, man has to put his will in opposition to the will of God. This our first parents did; and the result of their act was the destruction of their union with God and the loss of their supernatural endowments. They lapsed into a state of nature, only it was a state in which they had forfeited what had been conferred upon them at their creation. This state of man, with only his natural endowments, is the state into which all men, the descendants of Adam, have been born. This is the state of original sin. "Original sin means in Catholic theology a state inherited from our first human parents in which we are deprived of the supernatural grace and original righteousness with which they were endowed before they sinned, and are naturally prone to sin." (Hall, Dogmatic Theology, Vol. V, p. 281.) We can state the same fact otherwise, and more simply for our present purposes, by saying that by sin was forfeited the grace of union or sanctifying grace; and when we say that a child is born in sin we mean that it is born out of union with God, or without the supernatural gift of sanctifying grace. You will note here no implication of original sin as an active poison handed on from generation to generation. It will be important to remember this presently. When, therefore, the thought of the Church began to follow out what was involved in its belief in the actual sinlessness of blessed Mary, in its holding to the fact that her relation to God was of such a close and indeed unique character that her actual sinfulness would be incomprehensible; it was at length compelled to ask, What, in that case are we to think of original sin? If the first Eve was created in innocence and endowed with supernatural gifts, are we to think that she whom the Fathers of the Church from the earliest times have constantly called the second Eve, she whom God chose to be the Mother of His Son, should be less endowed? Is it a fact any more conceivable that the virgin Mother of God should be born in original sin than that she should be the victim of actual sin? If by the special grace of God she was kept from sin from the time that she was able to know good and evil, is it not probable that the freedom from sin goes further back than that, and is a freedom from original as well as from actual sin? What is the meaning of the Angelic Salutation, "Hail, thou that art _full of grace_," unless it refer to a superadded grace, to such _donum supernaturale_ as the first Eve received? There is indeed no precedent to guide in the case: the prophet Jeremiah and S. John Baptist had been preserved from sin from the womb, but this did not involve freedom from original sin. Still the fact that there was no precedent was not in anywise fatal; the point of the situation was just that there was no precedent for the relation to God into which Blessed Mary had been called. It was precisely this uniqueness of vocation which was leading theological thought to the conclusion of the uniqueness of her privilege: and this uniqueness of privilege seemed to call for nothing less than an exemption from sin in any and all forms. So a belief in the Immaculate Conception grew up despite a good deal of opposition while its implications were being thought out, but was found more and more congenial to the mind of the Church. She whose wonderful title for centuries had been Mother of God could never at any moment of her existence have been separate from God. She must, so it was felt, have been united to God from the very first moment of her existence. But what does this exemption from the common lot of men actually mean? I think that the simplest way of getting at it is to ask ourselves what it is that happens to a child at baptism. Every human child that is born into the world is born in original sin, that is, is born out of union with God, without sanctifying grace. It is then brought to the font and by baptism regenerated, born again, put in a relation to God that we describe as union, made a partaker of the divine nature. This varying description of the effect of baptism means that the soul of the child has become a partaker of sanctifying grace, the grace of union with God. Original sin, we say, is forgiven: that is, the soul is placed in the relation to God that it would have had had sin not come into existence, save that there remains a certain weakness of nature due to its sinful heredity. This that happens to children when they are baptised is what is held to have happened to Blessed Mary at her creation. Her soul instead of being restored to God by grace after her birth, was by God's special grace or favour created in union with Him, and in that union always continued. The uniqueness of S. Mary's privilege was that she never had to be restored to union with God because from the moment of her existence she had been one with Him. This would have been the common lot of all men if sin had not come into the world. In view of much criticism of this belief it is perhaps necessary to emphasize the fact that a belief in Mary's exemption from original sin does not imply a belief that she was exempt from the need of redemption. She is a creature of God, only the highest of His creatures: and like all human beings she needed to be redeemed by the Blood of Christ. The privileges which are our Lord's Mother's, are her's through the foreseen merits of her Son--she, as all others, is redeemed by the sacrifice and death of Christ. There is in the doctrine of the Immaculate Conception no shadow of encroachment on the doctrine of universal redemption in Christ; there is simply the belief that for the merits of the Son the Mother was spared any moment of separation from the Father. It will, of course, be said that this doctrine is but the relatively late and newly formulated doctrine of the Latin Church and is of no obligation elsewhere; that we are in no wise bound to receive it. In regard to which there are one or two things to be said. That we are not formally bound to believe a doctrine is not at all the same thing as to say that we are formally bound not to believe it. I am afraid that the latter is a not uncommon attitude. There is no obligation upon us to disbelieve the Immaculate Conception of blessed Mary; there is an obligation upon us to understand it and to appreciate its meaning and value. We must remember that a doctrine that is not embodied in our Creed may nevertheless have the authority of the Church back of it. The doctrine of the Real Presence is not stated in the Creed; yet it is and always has been the teaching of the Church everywhere in all its liturgies. Though any particular statement of the Real Presence is not binding, the fact itself is binding on all Christians, and may not be doubted. In much the same way it will be found that theological doctrines of relatively late creedal formulation yet have behind the formulation a long history of actual acceptance in the teaching of the Church. They are theologically certain long before they are embodied in authoritative formulae. What the individual Christian has to do is to try to assimilate the meaning of theological teaching and to find a place for it in his devotional practice and experience. His best attitude is not one of doubt and scepticism, but of meditation and experiment. It is through this latter attitude that each one is helping to form the mind of the Church, and aiding its progressive appreciation of revealed truth. I do not see how any one who has entered into the meaning of the Incarnation can feel otherwise than that the uniqueness of the event carries with it the uniqueness of the instrument. It can of course be said that truth is not a matter of feeling but of revelation. But is it not true that God reveals Himself in many ways, and that our feelings as well as our intellects are involved in our perception of the truth revealed? Do we not often feel that something must be true far in advance of our ability to prove it so? And in truths of a certain order is there not an intuitive perception, a perception growing out of a sense of fitness, of congruity, which outruns the slow advance of the intellect? Love and sympathy often far outrun intellectual process. This is not to say that feeling is all; that a sense of fitness and conformity is a sufficient basis of doctrine. There is always need of the verification of the conclusions of the affections by the intellect; and the intellect in the last resort will have to be the determining factor. And I think it can be said without hesitation that the intellectual work of theological students has quite justified the course that the affections of Christendom have taken in their spontaneous appreciation of Mary, the Ever-Virgin Mother of Our Lord. What the heart of Christendom has discovered, the mind of Christendom has justified. But here more than in any other doctrinal development it is love that has led the way, often with an eagerness, an _élan_, with which theology has found it difficult to keep up. And as we to-day try to appreciate the place of Blessed Mary in the life of the Church of God must we not feel it to be our misfortune that our past has been so wrapped in clouds of controversy that we have been unable to see her meaning at all clearly? Must we not feel deep sadness at the thought that the very mention of Mary's name, so often stirs, not love and gratitude, but the spirit of suspicion and dislike? We no doubt have passed beyond such feelings, but the traces of their evil work through the centuries still persist. They persist in certain feelings of reserve and hesitation when we find that our convictions are leading us to the adoption of the attitude toward her which is the common attitude of all Catholicity, both East and West. When we feel that the time has actually come to abandon the narrowness and barrenness of devotional practice which is a part of our tradition, we nevertheless feel as though we were launching out on strange seas and that our next sight of land might be of strange regions where we should not feel at home. If such be our instinctive attitude, it is well to remember that progress, spiritual as well as other, is conquest of the (to us) new; but that the acquisition of the new does not necessarily mean the abandonment of the old. We shall in fact lose nothing of our hold on the unique work of our Lord because we recognise that His Blessed Mother's association with it implies a certain preparation on her part, a certain uniqueness of privilege. There is one God, and one Mediator between God and man, the Man Christ Jesus; and all who come to God, come through Him. But they come also in the unity of the Body of many members and of many offices. And the office of her who in God's providence was called to be the Mother of the Incarnate is surely as unique as is her vocation. She surely is entitled to receive from us the deep affection of our hearts and the highest honour that may be given to any creature. THE GARLAND OF THE BLESSED VIRGIN MARIE. Here are five letters in this blessed name, Which, changed, a five-fold mystery design, The M the Myrtle, A the Almonds claim, R Rose, I Ivy, E sweet Eglantine. These form thy garland, when of Myrtle green The gladdest ground to all the numbered five, Is so implexéd fine and laid in, between, As love here studied to keep grace alive. Thy second string is the sweet Almond bloom Mounted high upon Selines' crest: As it alone (and only it) had room, To knit thy crown, and glorify the rest. The third is from the garden culled, the Rose, The eye of flowers, worthy for her scent, To top the fairest lily now, that grows With wonder on the thorny regiment. The fourth is the humble Ivy intersert But lowly laid, as on the earth asleep, Preserved in her antique bed of vert, No faiths more firm or flat, then, where't doth creep. But that, which sums all, is the Eglantine, Which of the field is cleped the sweetest briar, Inflamed with ardour to that mystic shine, In Moses' bush unwasted in the fire. Thus love, and hope, and burning charity, (Divinest graces) are so intermixt With odorous sweets and soft humility, As if they adored the head, whereon they are fixed. PART TWO CHAPTER II THE ANNUNCIATION I And the angel came in unto her, and said, Hail, thou that art highly favoured, the Lord is with thee; blessed art thou among women. S. Luke, I. 28 Oh God, whose will it was that thy Word should take flesh, at the message of the Angel, in the womb of the blessed Virgin Mary, grant to us thy suppliants that, we who believe her to be truly the Mother of God, may be assisted by her intercession with thee. Through &c. ROMAN. When we attempt to reconstruct imaginatively any scene of Holy Scripture it is almost inevitable that we see it through the eyes of some great artist of the past. The Crucifixion comes to us as Dürer or Guido Reni saw it; the Presentation or the Visitation presents itself to us in terms of the imagination of Raphael; we see the Nativity as a composition of Corregio. So the Annunciation rises before us when we close our eyes and attempt to make "the composition of place" in a familiar grouping of the actors: a startled maiden who has arisen hurriedly from work or prayer, looking with wonder at the apparition of an angel who has all the eagerness of one who has come hastily upon an urgent mission. The surroundings differ, but artists of the Renaissance like to think of a sumptuous background as a worthy setting for so great an event. We keep close to the meaning of Scripture if we set the Annunciation in a room in a cottage of a Palestinian working man. And I like to think of S. Mary at her accustomed work when Gabriel appeared, not with a rush of wings, but as a silent and hardly felt presence standing before her whom the Lord has chosen to be the instrument of His coming. Wonder there would have been, the kind of awe-struck wonder with which the supernatural always fills men; and yet only for a moment, for how could she who was daily living so close to God fear the messenger of God? The thought of angels and divine messengers would be wholly familiar to her. They had been the frequent agents of God in many a crisis of her people's history, and appeared again and again in the story of her ancestors on whose details she had often meditated. Yet in her humility she could but think it strange that an angel should have any message to bear to her. It is a striking enough scene, as the artists have felt when they tried to put it before us. But no artist has ever been able to go below the surface and by any hint lead us to an appreciation of the vast implications of the moment. This moment of the Annunciation is in fact the central moment of the world's history. No moment before or since has equalled it in its unspeakable wonder, in its revelation of the meaning of God. Not the moment of the creation when all the Sons of God sang together at the vision of the unfolding purpose of God; not the morning of the Resurrection when the empty tomb told of the accomplished overthrow of death and hell. This is the moment toward which all preceding time had moved, and to which all succeeding ages will look back--the moment of the Incarnation of God. It is well to ask ourselves at this point what the Incarnation means, because our estimate of Blessed Mary as the chosen instrument of God's grace will be influenced by our estimate of that which she was chosen to do. One feels the failure to grasp her position in the work of our redemption often displays a weak hold upon that which is the very heart of God's work--the fact of God made man. The moment of the Annunciation is the moment of the Incarnation: God in His infinite love for mankind is sending forth His Son to be born of a woman in the likeness of our flesh. God the Son, the second Person of the ever adorable Trinity, is entering the womb of this maiden, there to wrap Himself in her flesh and to pass through the common course of a human child's development till He shall reach the hour of the Nativity. When we try to grasp the reach of the divine Love, its depth, its self-forgetfulness, we must stand in the cottage in Nazareth and hear the angelic salutation. And then surely our own hearts cannot fail to respond to the revelation of the divine love; and something of our love that goes out to our hidden Lord, goes out too to the maiden-mother who so willingly became God's instrument in His work for our redemption. In imagination I see S. Gabriel kneeling before her who has become a living Tabernacle of God Most High, and repeating his "Hail, thou that art highly favoured," with the deepest reverence. "Hail, thou that art full of grace." We linger over this Ave of S. Gabriel, and often it rises to our lips. Perhaps it is with S. Luke's narrative, almost naked in its simplicity, in our hands as we try once more to push our thought deep into the meaning of the scene, that we may understand a little better what has resulted in our experience from the Incarnation of God, and our thought turns to S. Mary whom God chose and brought so near to Himself. Perhaps it is when, with chaplet in hand, we try to imagine S. Mary's feelings at this first of the Joyful Mysteries when the meaning of her vocation comes clearly before her. Hail! thou that art full of grace, of the Living Grace, the very Presence of the divinity itself. The plummet of our thought fails always to reach the depth of that mystery of Mary's Child. It was indeed centuries before the Church under the guidance of the Holy Spirit thought out and fully stated the meaning of this Child; it was centuries before it fully grasped the meaning of Mary herself in her relation to her divine Son: and after all the centuries of Spirit-guided statement and saintly meditation it still remains that many fail to understand and to make energetic in life the fact of the Incarnation of God in the womb of the Virgin Mary. And what was S. Mary's own attitude toward the announcement of the Angel? Her first instinctive word--the word called out by her imperfect grasp of the meaning of the message of S. Gabriel, is: How can this be seeing I know not a man? Are we to infer from these words, as many have inferred, that in her secret thoughts S. Mary had resolved always to remain a virgin, that she had so offered herself to God in the virgin state? Possibly when we remember that such was God's will for her it is not going too far to assume that she had been prompted thus to meet and offer herself to the divine will. Be that as it may there is an obvious and instantaneous assumption that the child-bearing which is predicted to her lies outside the normal and accustomed way of marriage. She clearly does not think that the archangel's words look to her approaching union with S. Joseph, even if the nominal nature of that marriage were not agreed upon. It is clear that her instantaneous feeling is that as the message is supernatural in character, so will its fulfilment be, and the wondering _how_ arises to her lips. The answer to the how is that what is worked in her is by the power of the Holy Spirit: "The Holy Ghost shall come upon thee, and the power of the Highest shall overshadow thee: therefore also that holy thing which shall be born of thee shall be called the Son of God." As so often in the dealing of God with us, that which is put forward as an explanation actually deepens the mystery. It was no abatement of Mary's wonder, nor did it really put away her _how_ when she was told that the Holy Ghost should come upon her and that the child should be the Son of the Highest. And yet this was the only answer to such a question that was possible. Our questions may be met in two ways: either by a detailed explanation, or by the answer that the only explanation is God--that what we are concerned with is a direct working of God outside the accustomed order of nature and therefore outside the reach of our understanding. Such acts have no doubt their laws, but they are not the laws in terms of which we are wont to think. The question of S. Mary was not a question which implied doubt. It is therefore the proper question with which to approach all God's works. There is a stress with which such questions may be asked which implies on our part unbelief or at least hesitation in belief. It is a not uncommon accent to hear to-day in questions as to divine mysteries. Our recitation of the creed is not rarely invaded by restlessness, shadows of doubt, which perhaps we brush aside, or perhaps let linger in our minds with the feeling that it is safer for our religion not to follow these out. I am afraid that there are not a few who still adhere to the Church who do so with the feeling that it is better for them to go on repeating words that they have become used to rather than to raise questions as to their actual truth; who feel that the faith of the Church rests on foundations which in the course of the centuries have been badly shaken, but that it is safer not to disturb them lest they incontinently fall to pieces. In other words there is a wide-spread feeling that such stories as this of the Annunciation and of the Virgin birth of our Lord are fables. When we ask, why is there such a feeling? the only answer is that the modern man has become suspicious of the supernatural. Has there anything been found in the way of evidence, we ask, which reflects upon the truth of the story in S. Luke? No, we are told; the story stands where it always did, its evidence is what it always was. What has changed is not the story or the evidence for it but the human attitude toward that and all such stories. The modern mind does not attempt to disprove them, it just disapproves of them, and therefore declines to believe them. It sets them aside as belonging to an order of ideas with which it no longer has any sympathy. It is no doubt true that we reach many of our conclusions, especially those which govern our practical attitude towards life, from the ground of certain hardly recognised presuppositions, rather than from the basis of thought out principles. The thought of to-day is pervaded by the denial of the supernatural. It insists that all that we know or can know is the natural world about us. It rules out the possibility of any invasions of the natural order and declines to accept such on any evidence whatsoever. All that one has time to say now of such an attitude is that it makes all religion impossible, and sets aside as untrustworthy all the deepest experiences of the human soul. If I were going to argue against this attitude (as I am not able to now) I should simply oppose to it the past experience of the race as embodied in its best religious thought. I should stress the fact that what is noblest and best in the past of humanity is wholly meaningless unless humanity's supposition of a life beyond this life, and of the existence of spiritual powers and beings to whom we are related, holds good. No nation has ever conducted its life on the basis of pure materialism, save in those last stages of its decadence which preluded its downfall. But without going so far as to reject the supernatural and reject the truth of the immediate intervention of God in life, there are multitudes of men and women whose whole life never moves beyond the natural order. They have no materialistic theory; if you ask them, they think that they are, in some sense not very well defined, Christians. But they have no Christian interests, no spiritual activities of any sort. For all practical purposes God and the spiritual order do not exist for them. They are not for the most part what any one would call bad people; though there seems no intelligible meaning of the word in which they can be called _good_. The best that one can say of them is that they have a certain usefulness in the present social order though they are not missed when they fall out of it. They can be replaced in the social machine much as a lost or broken part can in an engine. And just as the part of an engine which has become useless where it is, can have no possible usefulness elsewhere, so we are unable to imagine them as capable of adaptation to any other place than that which they have filled here. Perhaps that is what we mean by hell--incapacity to adapt oneself to the life of the future. All this implies a temper of mind and soul that has rendered itself incapable of vision. For just as our ordinary vision of the beauty of this world depends not only on the existence of the world but on a certain capacity in us to see it, so that the beauty of the world does not at all exist for the man whose optic nerve is paralysed; so the meaning and beauty, nay, the very existence of the supernatural order depends for us upon a capacity in us which we may call the capacity of vision. The sceptic waves aside our stories of supernatural happenings with the brusque statement, "Nobody to-day sees angels. They only appear in an atmosphere of primitive or mediæval superstition, not in the broad intellectual light of the twentieth century." But it may be that the fact (if it be a fact) that nobody sees angels in the twentieth century is due to some other cause than the non-existence of the angels. After all, in any century you see what you are prepared to see, what in other words, you are looking for. It is a common enough phenomenon that the man who lives in the country misses most of the beauty of it. In his search for the potato bug he misses the sunset, and disposes of the primrose on the river's brim as a common weed. It is true that in order to see we need something beside eyes, and to hear we need something beside ears. When on an occasion the Father spoke from heaven to the Son many heard the sound, and some said, "It thundered"; others got so far as to say, "An Angel spake to him." Let us then in the presence of narratives of supernatural happenings ask our _how_ with a good deal of reverence and a good deal of modesty, not as implying a sceptical doubt on our part, but as a wish that we may be admitted deeper into the meaning of the event. Scepticism simply closes the door through which we might pass to fuller knowledge. The questioning of faith holds the door open. To those who have not closed the door upon the supernatural it is evident that it is permeated with forces and influences which are not material in their origin or their effects; that God acts upon the world now as He has ever acted upon it. If we cannot believe this I do not see that we can believe in God at all in any intelligible sense. There is to me one attitude toward the supernatural that is even more hopeless than the attitude of materialistic scepticism which says, "Miracles do not happen"; and that is the attitude which says, "Miracles happened in Bible times, but have never happened since." As the one attitude seems to imply that God made the world, but after He had made it left it to go on by itself and no more expresses any interest in it; so the other implies that after God put the Christian religion in the world He left that to go on by itself and no longer pays any attention to it. Either to me is wholly unintelligible and inconceivable. And what is worse, is wholly out of touch with the revelation of God made in Holy Scripture. That displays God working in and through the material universe, and it displays God working in and through the spirit of man; and it in no place implies that either the material world or the human order is so perfect as to need no further divine action. Revelation implies the constant presence and action of God in nature and in the Church; it implies that both have a forward look and are not ends in themselves but are moving on toward some ultimate perfection. "The whole creation groaneth and travaileth ... waiting for the adoption, that is, the redemption of our body." We look for a new heaven and a new earth; and human society looks to a perfect consummation in the fellowship of the saints in light. Looking out on life from the spiritual point of vantage, we may hopefully ask our _how_, and there will be an answer. To blessed Mary S. Gabriel replied: "The Holy Ghost shall come upon thee, and the power of the Highest shall overshadow thee: therefore also that holy thing which shall be born of thee shall be called the Son of God."--An answer that was full of light and of deepest mystery. The immediate question--the mode of her conception--was cleared up; it would be through the direct action of God the Holy Spirit: but the nature of the Child to be born is filled with mystery. We can imagine S. Mary in the days to come finding her child-bearing quite intelligible in comparison with the mystery that brooded over His nature. This is the common fact in our dealing with God. We express it when we say that we never get beyond the need of faith. We pray that one thing may be made clear, and the result of the clearing is the deepened sense of the mystery of the things beyond, just as any increase in the power of the telescope clears up certain questions which had been puzzling the astronomers only to carry their vision into vaster depths of space, opening new questions to tantalize the imagination. We find it so always. The solution of any question of our spiritual lives does not lead as perhaps we thought it would lead to there being no longer any questions to perplex us and to draw on our time and our energy; rather such solution puts us in the presence of new and, it may well be, deeper and more perplexing questions. "Are there no limits to the demands of God upon us," we sometimes despairingly ask? And the answer is, "No: there are no limits because the end of the road that we are travelling is in infinity." The limit that is set to our perfecting is the perfection of God, and if we grow through all the years of eternity we shall still have attained only a relative perfection. So the successful passing of one test cannot be expected to relieve us from all tests in the future. It is the dream of the child that manhood will set it free; and he reaches manhood only to find that it imposes obligations which are so pressing that he reverses his dream and speaks of his childhood as the time of his true freedom. The meeting of spiritual tests is but the proving of spiritual capacity to meet other tests. To our Lady it might well seem that the acceptance of the conditions of the Incarnation was the severest test that God could assign her; that in the light of the promise she could look on to joy. But the future concealed a sword which should pierce her very heart. The promise contained no doubt wonderful things--this wonder of God's blessing that she was now experiencing in the coming of the Holy Ghost, in the very embrace of God Himself: this is but the first of the Joyful Mysteries which were God's great gifts to her. But her life was not to be a succession of Joyful Mysteries, ultimately crowned with the Mysteries of Glory. There were the Sorrowful Mysteries as well. They were as true, and shall we not say, as necessary, as valuable, a part of her spiritual training as the others. She, our Mother, was now near God, with a nearness that was possible for no other human being, and it is one of the traditional sayings of our Lord: "He that is near Me is near fire." And fire burns as well as warms and lights. She is wonderful, the Virgin of Nazareth, in this moment when she becomes Mother of God: and we share in the rapture of the moment when in the fulness of her joy she hardly notices S. Gabriel's departure: but we feel, too, a great pity for her as we think of the coming days. So we kneel to her who is our Mother, as well as Mother of God, and say our _Ave_, and ask her priceless intercession. Gabriel, that angel bright, Brighter than the sun is light, From heaven to earth he took his flight, Letare. In Nazareth, that great city, Before a maiden he kneeled on knee, And said, "Mary, God is with thee, Letare." "Hail Mary, full of grace, God is with thee, and ever was; He hath in thee chosen a place. Letare." Mary was afraid of that sight, That came to her with so great light, Then said the angel that was so bright, "Letare." "Be not aghast of least nor most, In thee is conceived of the Holy Ghost, To save the souls that were for-lost. Letare." Fifteenth Century. PART TWO CHAPTER III THE ANNUNCIATION II And Mary said, Behold the handmaid of the Lord; be it unto me according to thy word. S. Luke I. 38 O God, who through the fruitful virginity of blessed Mary didst bestow on mankind the rewards of eternal salvation: grant, we beseech thee, that we may experience her intercession for us through whom we were made worthy to receive the author of life, even Jesus Christ thy Son our Lord. Roman. S. Mary's momentary hesitation had been due to the surprise that she felt at the nature of the angelic message and the difficulty that there was in relating it to her state of life. That she, a virgin, should bear a son was vastly perplexing; but the answer of S. Gabriel speedily cleared away the difficulty: "The Holy Ghost shall come upon thee, and the power of the Highest shall overshadow thee." Blessed Mary had no difficulty about the supernatural; she was not afflicted with the modern disease that there are no things in heaven and earth save such as are contained in our philosophy. She was not of those who "cannot believe what they do not understand," It was enough for her that a message had come from God: and no matter how little she was able to understand the mode of God's proposed action within her, she was willing to offer herself to be the instrument of the will of God. No doubt that was an habitual attitude and not one taken up on the spur of the moment. It is indeed very rarely that what seem spontaneous actions are really such; and S. Mary's first word was nearer spontaneity than the second. Her exclamation in answer to the angelic _Ave_ was the natural expression of her surprise at so unexpected a message: its variance from all her thought about her life was the thing that struck her; and therefore her instinctive, "How can this be?" In this second word we have a quite different attitude. Here is revealed to us the profound and perfect humility of the Blessed Virgin. This answer comes from the experience of her whole life. It is of such utterances that we say that they are revealing. What we at any time say, does in fact reveal what we are--what we have come to be through the experience of our past life. And no doubt it is these instinctive utterances which are called out by some unexpected occurrence that reveal more of us than our weighed and guarded words. Back of every word we utter is a life we have lived. We have been spending years in preparing for that word. Perhaps when the time comes to speak it, it is not the word we thought we were going to speak, it was not the prelude to the action we thought that we were going to perform; it reveals a character other than the character that we thought we had. How often the Gospel brings that before us! We see the young Ruler come running with his brave and perfectly sincere words about inheriting eternal life; and then we see him going away when the testing of our Lord demonstrated that he only partly meant what he said. It was not S. Peter's brave words, "Though I should die with thee, yet will I not deny thee," that revealed the truth about the Apostle; but the words that were called out by the accusation that he was of the company of Jesus: "Then began he to curse and swear, saying, I know not the man." We have no doubt that he knows himself better when he catches the eye of the Master turned upon him and goes and weeps bitterly. And it is true, is it not, that it is through words called out and thoughts stirred by the unexpected that we often get new insight into our real state. A sudden temptation reveals a hidden weakness, and we go away shamed and crushed, saying, "I did not suppose that I was capable of that." But, thank God, the revelation is sometimes the other way; the testing uncovers unexpected strength. Of many a man, after some strong trial, we say, "I did not know that he had so much courage, or so much patience." The quiet unassuming exterior was the mask of an heroic will of which very likely not even the possessor suspected the true quality. The annals of martyrdom are full of these revelations of unsuspected strength. Here in the case of Blessed Mary the quality revealed is that of humility so perfect that it dreams not of revolt from the most searching trial. It reveals the character of our Mother better than pages of description can do. What we see in response to the bewildering messages brought by S. Gabriel is the instinctive movement of the soul toward God. There is utter absence of any thought of self or of how she may be affected by the purpose of God; it is enough that that purpose is made plain. It seems well to insist on this instinctive movement of the soul in Blessed Mary because it is one item of the evidence that the Catholic Church has to offer for its belief in her sinlesssness. Any momentary rebellion, no matter how soon recovered from, or how sincerely regretted, against the will of God, would be evidence of the existence of sin. But where sin is not, where there is an unstained soul, there the knowledge of the will of God will send one running to its acceptance; there will be active acceptance and not just submission to God's will. Submission implies a certain effort to place ourselves in line with the will of God; it often seems to imply that we are accepting it because we cannot do anything else. But with Blessed Mary there is a glad going forth to meet God; the word "Behold" springs out to meet the will of God half-way. It is as though she had been holding herself ready, expectant, in the certainty of the coming of some message, and now she offers herself without the shadow of hesitation, as to a purpose which was a welcome vocation: "Behold the Handmaid of the Lord; be it unto me according to thy word." How wonderful is the humility of obedience! And humility--we must stress this--is not a virtue of youth; it is not one of the virtues which ripen quickly, but is of slow development and delayed maturity. Modesty we should expect in a maiden, and lack of self-assertion; and perhaps obedience of a sort. But those do not constitute the virtue of humility. We are humble when we have lost self; and Mary's wondering answer reveals the fact that she is not thinking of herself at all, but only of the nature of the divine purpose. That that purpose being known she should at all resist it would seem to her a thing incredible, for all her life she had had no other motive of action. Her will had never been separated from the will of God. This state of union which was hers by divine election and privilege, we achieve, if we achieve it at all, by virtue of great spiritual discipline. We are, to be sure, brought into union with God through the sacraments, but the union so achieved is, if one may so express it, an unstable union; it is union that we have to maintain by daily spiritual action and which suffers many a weakening through our infidelity, even if it escape the disaster of mortal sin. We sway to and fro in our struggle to attain the equilibrium of perfection which belonged to Blessed Mary by virtue of the first embrace of God which had freed her from sin. Our tragedy is that we have almost universally lost the first engagements of the Spiritual Combat before we have at all understood that there is any combat. The circumstances of life of child and youth are such that we become familiar with sin before we have the intelligence to understand the need of resisting, even if we are fortunate enough to have such an education as to awaken a sense of sin as opposition to God. There is nothing more appalling than the tragedy of life thus defiled and broken and put at a disadvantage before it even understands the ideals that should govern its course. When the vision of perfection comes and we face life as the field where we are to acquire eternal values, we face it with a poisoned imagination and a depleted strength. Our battle is not only to maintain what we have, but to win back what we have lost. Under such conditions there is much consolation in learning that we do not fight alone but have the constant help and sympathy of those who are endued with the strength of perfect purity. Their likeness to us in that they have lived the life of the flesh assures us of their understanding, and it assures us too of their active co-operation. We cannot understand the saints standing outside human life and from the vantage point of their achievement looking on as indolent spectators. The spectacle offorded by the Church Militant must call out the active intercession of all the saints; but especially do we look for helpful sympathy from her who is our all-pure Mother, whose very purity gives her intercession unmeasured power. She is not removed from us through her spotlessness, but by virtue of her clearer understanding of the meaning of sin and of separation from God that it brings her, she is ready to fly to the help of all sinners by her ceaseless intercession. The difficulty of our spiritual lives rises chiefly out of the clash of wills. A disordered nature, a tainted inheritance, a corrupt environment conspire to make the life of grace tremendously difficult. It is only in a very limited sense that we can be said to be free, and there is no possibility at all of overcoming the handicap of sin, except firm and careful reliance on the grace of God. That grace, no doubt, is always at our disposal as far as we will use it. Grace moves us, but it does not compel us; and we are free always to reject the offer of God. We have only to open our eyes upon the world about us to see how rarely is the grace of God accepted in any effective way. Even in convinced Christians the attempt to live the divided life is the commonest thing possible. It sometimes seems as though the prevalent conception of the Christian life were that it is sufficient to offer God a certain limited allegiance and that the remainder of the life will be thereby ransomed and placed at our disposal to use as we will. We find the theory well worked out in the current attitude of Christians toward the observance of the Lord's Day. It appears to be held that an attendance at Mass or Matins is a sufficient recognition of the interests of religion and that the rest of the day may be regarded, not as the Lord's Day, but as man's--as a day of unlimited amusement and self-indulgence. The notion of consecration is abandoned. The only possible outcome of such theories of life is what we already experience, spiritual lawlessness and moral degradation. I suppose that it will only be through social disaster that society will come (as usual, too late) to any comprehension that the will of God is what it is because it is only by following the road that it indicates that human life can reach a successful development. God's laws are not arbitrary inflictions; they are the expression of the highest wisdom in the guidance of human life. Our elementary duty therefore as sane persons is to find what is the will of God in any given circumstances; there should be no action until there has been an effort to ascertain that will. It were as sensible to set about building a house without ascertaining what strength of foundation would be needful, or without knowing the sort of material we were going to use. One has heard of a house being built in which it turned out that there was a room with no doorway, or floor to which no stair led up; but we do not commend such exploits as the last word in architecture, nor would we commend a farmer who planted his crops without attention to the nature of the soil. There are certain elementary principles of common sense which we pretty uniformly hold to in every matter with the exception of religion; that seems to be held to be a separate department of human activity with laws of its own, and in which the principles which govern life elsewhere do not hold. We do not profess this theory, of course, but we commonly act upon it, while we still profess to respect the will of God. It is strange too that after having habitually neglected that will, we are greatly disappointed, not to say indignant, when after a life of disobedience and scorn of God's thought for us we do not find ourselves in possession of the fruits of righteousness. If it were not so tragic it would be amusing to hear men declaim against the justice of a God whose existence they have habitually disregarded. But, it is often said, it is not by any means easy to find out God's will. You talk about it as though it were as easy to know God's will as it is to know the multiplication table. Well, at least it can be said that one does not get to know the multiplication table without effort! What objections as to the obscurity of the will of God will seem to mean is that it does take effort to ascertain it. I do not know of any reason for regarding that as unjust. If the will of God is what religion maintains that it is, of primary importance to our lives, we might well be glad that it is ascertainable at all, at the expense of whatever effort. An Almighty God has implanted within every human heart the knowledge that His will exists and is important; that is, He has endowed every man with a conscience which is the certainty of the difference between right and wrong, and the conviction that we are responsible for our conduct to some power outside ourselves; that we are not at liberty to conduct life on any lines we will. Having so much certainty, it surely becomes us to set about ascertaining the nature of the power and the details of the will. The very nature of conscience, as a sense of obligation, rather than a source of information, should create a desire for a knowledge of what God's will is in detail, that is, what is the content of the notion of right and wrong. And while it is true that such content can only be ascertained by work, it is not true that the work is a specially difficult one. The Revelation of God's mind made through Holy Scripture and through the life of His Incarnate Son is an open book that any one can study; and to any objection that such study has led chiefly to difference of opinion and darkness rather than light, the answer is that such disaster follows for the most part only when the guidance of the Catholic Church is repudiated; when, that is, we pursue a course in this study which we should not pursue in relation to any other. If we were studying geology we should not regard it as the best course to scorn all that preceding students have done, and betake our unprepared selves to field work! But that is the "Bible and the Bible only" theory of spiritual knowledge. If we want to know the meaning of the Biblical teaching, we must make use of the helps which the experience of the Church has richly provided. But the nature of the divine will and the particulars of our obligation are not merely, perhaps one ought to say, not chiefly, to be assimilated through our brains. The best preparation for the doing of the will of God and the progressive entering into His mind, is an obedient life. Purity of character will carry us farther on this path than cleverness of brains. Our Lord's own rule is: _He that doeth the will shall know of the doctrine._ In other words, we understand the mind of God and attain to the illumination of the conscience, through sympathetic response to the will so far as we have seen it. And each new response, in its turn, carries us to a deeper and clearer understanding of the will. That is to say, our conscience, by habitual response to God's will, so far as it knows it, is so illumined as to be able to make trustworthy judgments on new material submitted to it. This is, of course, to be otherwise described as the working of God the Holy Spirit. He is the Spirit that dwelleth in us and directs us to right judgments if we will listen. Our danger is that self-will constantly crops up and complicates the case by representing that the line suggested by the Holy Spirit is not in reality in accord with our interests. This opposition between the seeming interests suggested by self-will, which indeed often contribute to our immediate gratification, and our true interests as indicated by the monitions of the Holy Spirit, constitutes the real struggle of the life during the period of probation. The will of God in every circumstance is usually plain enough; but it is silenced by the clamour of the passions and desires demanding immediate gratification: and we are all more or less children in our insistence on the immediate and our incapacity to wait. But I must insist again that it is not knowledge that is wanting but sympathy with the course that knowledge directs. We pursuade ourselves that we do not know, when the real trouble is that we know only too well. One feels that much that is put forward as inability to understand religion is at bottom merely disinclination to obey it. Not that there is not room for genuine perplexity. Often it happens that we are not at all certain in this or that detail of conduct. In that case it is well to consider whether it is necessary to act before we can attain certainty through study or advice. But if act we must, we can at least act with honesty, not making our will the accomplice of our passions or interests. I do not believe that there are many cases in which we shall go wrong if we make use of all the means at our disposal. A diligent doing of the will of God does undoubtedly bring light on unknown problems and unexpected situations in which we from time to time find ourselves. If our constant attitude has been one of free and glad obedience we need not fear to go astray. "Behold the handmaid of the Lord," Blessed Mary said; and such an attitude has never failed to meet the divine approval and call out the help of God. Just to put ourselves utterly at God's disposal is the clearing of all life. "Into Thy hands," is the solution of all difficulties. I sing a maiden That is matchless; King of all kings To her Son she ches. He came all so still To His Mother's bower, As dew in April That falleth on the flower. Mother and maiden Was never none but she; Well might such a lady God's Mother be. English, Fifteenth Century. PART TWO CHAPTER IV THE VISITATION I And Mary arose in those days, and went into the hill country with haste, into a city of Judah; and entered into the house of Zacharias, and saluted Elizabeth. S. Luke I. 39, 40. Grant, we beseech thee, O Lord God, to us thy servants, that we may evermore enjoy health of mind and body, and by the glorious intercession of blessed Mary, ever a virgin, be delivered from present sorrows and enjoy everlasting gladness. Through. ROMAN. Those who were faithful in Israel and were looking forward to the fulfilment of God's promises would be drawn together by close bonds of sympathy. It oftentimes proves that the bonds of a common ideal are stronger than the bonds of blood. It was to prove so many times in the history of Christianity when in accordance with our Lord's words the closest blood relation would be broken through fidelity to Him, and a man's foes be found to be those of his own household. But also it is true that the possession of common ideals becomes the basis of relations which are stronger than race or family. We may be sure that the members of that little group of which we catch glimpses now and then in the progress of the Gospel story found in their expectation of the Lord's deliverance of Israel such a bond. We feel that S. Mary and S. Joseph must have been members of this group and that they were filled with the hope of God's manifestation. Another family which shared the same hope was that of the priest Zacharias whose wife Elizabeth was the cousin of Mary of Nazareth. It is to their house in the hill country of Judah we now turn our thoughts. It was a part of the angelic message to S. Mary that her cousin Elizabeth had "conceived a son in her old age; and this is the sixth month with her who was called barren." Overwhelmed as S. Mary was by the vocation which had come to her, perplexed as to what should be her next step, she may well have seized upon the words of the angel as a hint as to her present course. She must confide in some one, and that some one, we instantly feel, must be a woman. In her own great joy she would need some one with whom to share it. In her unprecedented case she would need a counselor, and who better could afford aid than her cousin whose case was in so many respects like her own, who was already cherishing a child whose conception was due to the intervention of God? We understand therefore, why it is that without waiting for the further development of events, Mary arises, and goes "with haste" to the home of her cousin. It is just now a house full of joy. For many years there had been happiness there, but a happiness over which a cloud rested. The affliction of barrenness was their sorrow. To the Hebrew there was no true family until the love of the father and the mother was incarnated in the child; and through many weary days Zacharias and Elizabeth had waited until hope quite failed as they found themselves beyond the possibility of bearing a child to cheer them and to hand on their name. We may be sure that they were reconciled to the will of God, for it is written of them that they were righteous, and the central feature of righteousness is the acceptance of the divine will. But though one cheerfully accepts the divine will there may still remain a consciousness of a vacancy in life; and therefore we can understand the joy that came to Zacharias when the angel appeared to him in the temple when he was exercising the priest's office and offering the incense of the daily sacrifice with the message that he should have a son. It was a joy that would be unclouded by the God-sent dumbness which was at once a punishment for his lack of immediate faith and a sign of the faithfulness of God. It was a joy that would hasten his steps homeward with the glad tidings, a joy that would fill the heart of Elizabeth when she heard the message of God. Soon the consciousness of the babe in her womb would be a growing wonder and a growing happiness. There would be a new brightness in the house where the aged mother waits through the months and the dumb father with his writing tablet at his side meditates upon the meaning of the providence of God and upon the prophecies of the angel as to his child's future. But what that future would be he could hardly expect to witness; he was too old to live to the day of his child's showing unto Israel. It is to this house that we see S. Mary hastening, sure of finding there a heart in which she can confide. She "entered into the house of Zacharias and saluted Elizabeth." We are not told what the words of her salutation were, but no doubt it was the customary Jewish salutation of peace. There could have been no more appropriate salutation exchanged between these two in whose souls was abiding the peace of a perfect possession of God. The will of God to which they had been accustomed to offer themselves all their lives was being accomplished through them in unexpected ways; but it found them as ready of acceptance as they had been in any of the ordinary duties of life wherein they had been accustomed to wait upon God. We may seem sometimes to go beyond Holy Scripture in our interpretations of feelings and thoughts which we are sure must have been those of the actors in the drama of salvation unfolded to us in the Scriptures; but are we not entitled to infer from God's actions a good deal of the nature of the instruments He uses? Are we not quite safe in the case of S. Mary in the deduction from the nature of her vocation of the spiritual perfection to attribute to her? Does not God's use of a person imply qualities in the person used? It is on this ground that I feel that we are quite safe in inferring the spiritual attitude of S. Mary and of S. Elizabeth from the choice God made of them to be the instruments of His purpose of redemption. But we are not inferring, we have the record with us, when we think of the joy of the mothers transcended in the joy of the children. The unborn Forerunner becomes conscious of the approach of Him of whom he is to say later: "Behold the Lamb of God that taketh away the sin of the world"; and there is an instantaneous movement that can only be that of recognition and worship. The movement of the child is at once understood and translated by S. Elizabeth: "And she spake out with a loud voice, and said, Blessed art thou among women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb. And whence is this to me, that the mother of my Lord should come to me? For, lo, as soon as the voice of thy salutation sounded in mine ears, the babe leaped in my womb for joy." In the presence of such joy and such sanctity we feel that our proper attitude is the attitude of adoring wonder that S. Elizabeth expresses. We worship our hidden Lord as the unborn prophet worships Him. We have no question to ask, nor curiosity at the mode of God's action. We are quite content to accept His action as it is revealed to us in Scripture; a revelation of the divine presense in humanity which has been abundantly verified in all the history of the Church. That verification in experience--a verification that we ourselves can repeat--is worth infinitely more than all the argument that the centuries have seen. "Blessed art thou among women," S. Elizabeth cries; and in doing so she is but repeating the words of the angel of the Annunciation. This word, too, we presently hear S. Mary taking up, and under the inspiration of the Holy Ghost saying: "From henceforth all generations shall call me blessed." And so they have. All generations, that is, that have been faithful to the Gospel teaching and have assimilated in any degree the consequences of S. Mary's nearness to God. When we speak of "Blessed" Mary we are but doing what angels and holy women have done, and it is great pity if in doing so we have to make a conscious effort, if the words do not spring spontaneously from our lips. Surely, we have not gone far toward the mastery of God's coming in the Incarnation if we have not felt the purity of the instrument through whom God enters our nature. The outward and visible sign of our understanding is found in our ability to complete the _Ave_ as the Holy Spirit has taught the Church to complete it: "Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners now and in the hour of our death." This reiterated attribution of blessedness to Mary our Mother calls us to pause and ask just what blessedness means. It is of course the characteristic Scripture locution for those who in some way enjoy the special favour of God. Blessedness is the state of those who have received special divine gifts of favour. A characteristic scriptural description of the blessedness of the righteous in contrast with the disaster of the unrighteous may be studied in the first Psalm. In the New Testament we naturally turn to the Sermon on the Mount where the Beatitudes give us our Lord's thought about blessedness. I think that we can describe the notion of blessedness there presented as being the state of those who have taken God at His word and chosen Him, and by that act of choice, while they have forfeited the world and the world's favour, have attained to the spiritual riches of the Kingdom of God. They are those to whom God is the Supreme Good, in whose possession they gladly count all things but loss. These are they who here in the pilgrim state have already attained to the enjoyment of God because they want nothing other or beside Him. Supremely blessed, therefore, is Mary our Mother, who never for a moment even in thought was separate from God. From the earliest moment of her existence she could say, "My beloved is mine and I am His." We try to think out what such a fact may mean when translated into terms of spiritual energy, and it seems to mean more than anything else boundless power of intercession such as the Church has attributed to S. Mary from the earliest times. We see no other way of estimating spiritual power save as the power of prayer. It is through prayer that we approach God--for we remember that sacrifice is but the highest form of prayer. The blessedness of S. Mary, that peculiar degree of blessedness which seems signalized by the reiterated attribution of the quality to her, must for our purposes to be understood as "power with God," power of intercession. It means that our Lord has chosen her to be a special medium of approval to Him, and that through her prayers He wills to bestow upon men many of His choicest gifts. Naturally, her prayers, like our prayers, are mediated by the merits of her divine Son; nevertheless they have a peculiar power which is related to her peculiar blessedness in that she is the mother of Incarnate God, and by special privilege is herself without sin. Of all those to whom we are privileged to turn in the joys and tragedies of our lives for the sympathy which helps through enlightened, loving prayer, we most naturally resort to her who is all love and all sympathy, Mary, the Mother of Jesus, blessed among women forever. Although we are told nothing of these days that S. Mary spent with her cousin Elizabeth, we do gather that she remained with her until her child was born and that she saw S. John in his mother's arms, and was a partaker in the joy of the aged parents. She was present when Zacharias, his speech restored, uttered the _Benedictus_ in thanksgiving for the birth of his son. It was then, having seen her own Son's Forerunner that S. Mary went back to Nazareth filled more than ever with the sense that God's hand was in the events that were taking place, and of the approach of some crisis in her nation's history. It must have been that she talked intimately with Zacharias and Elizabeth and with them tried to imagine what was the future in which these two children were so closely concerned. When we consider the _Magnificat_ and the _Benedictus_ not as the "Gospel Canticles" to be sung in Church but as the utterances of pious Israelites under the inspiration of the Holy Ghost, we feel how very vivid must have been their expectation of God's action in the immediate future, and with what intense love and interest they thought of the parts to be taken by their children in the deliverance God was preparing. How often they must have pondered the God-inspired saying: "He shall be great, and shall be called the Son of the Highest; and the Lord God shall give unto him the throne of his father David; and he shall reign over the house of Jacob forever; and of his kingdom there shall be no end." "And thou, child, shalt be called the prophet of the Highest: for thou shalt go before the face of the Lord to prepare his ways; to give knowledge of salvation unto his people by the remission of their sins, through the tender mercy of our God; whereby the Dayspring from on high hath visited us, to give light to them that sit in darkness and in the shadow of death, and to guide our feet into the way of peace." We think too of a more intimate sympathy that there would have been between these two women, drawn now so close together, not only by the blood bond, but by the bond of a common experience. What wonderful hours of communing during these three months! The peace of the hills of Judah is all about them and the peace of God is in their souls. What ecstatic joy, what ineffable love was theirs in these moments as they thought of the children who were God's precious gift to them. I fancy that there were many hours when they ceased to think of the mystery that hung over these children's destiny, and became just mothers lost in love of the coming sons. As we try to think out their relation to each other it presents itself to us as a relation of sympathy. Sympathy is community of feeling; it is maimed and thwarted when there is feeling only on one side. We speak of our sympathy in their affliction for others whom we do not know and who do not know us, but that is a very imperfect rendering of the perfect thing. No more than love does sympathy reach its perfection in solitude. But here in this village of Judah we know that we have the perfect thing--sympathy in its most exquisite form. This capacity for sympathy is one of the greatest of human endowments, and, one is glad to think, not like many human endowments, rare in its manifestation. In its ordinary manifestation it is instinctive, is roused by the spectacle of need calling us to its aid. There come to our knowledge from time to time instances of what seem to us very grievous failures in sympathy, but investigation shows that ignorance is very commonly at the bottom of them. When human beings are convinced of a need they are quite ready to respond. Indeed this readiness to respond makes them the easy victims of all sorts of impostures, of baseless appeals which play upon sentiment rather than convince the understanding. And just there lies the weakness of sympathy in that it is so easily turned to sentimentality. But the sentimentalist who gushes over ills, real or imaginary, can commonly be brought to book easily enough. For one thing the sentimentalist is devoted to publicity. He loves to conduct campaigns and drives, to "get up" a demonstration or an entertainment. I do not mean that he is a hypocrite but only that he loves the lime-light. When any tragedy befalls man his impulse is to organise a dance in aid of it. It is extraordinary how many people there are who will aid a charity by dancing to whom one would feel it quite hopeless to appeal for the amount of the dance tickets. And yet they are not wholly selfish people; there does lie back of the dance a certain sympathetic impulse. We easily deceive ourselves about ourselves, and it is well to be sure that we have true sympathy and not just sentiment. It is not so difficult to find out. We can test ourselves quickly enough by examining our giving. Do we give only when we are asked? Do we yield to spectacular appeals or only to those that we have examined and found good? Do we put the spiritual interests of humanity first? Is there any appreciable amount of quiet spontaneous giving which is known to no one? Do we prefer to be anonymous? Such tests soon reveal what we are like. One who never gives spontaneously, without being asked, we may be sure is lacking in sympathy. But of course one does not mean that sympathy is so closely related to what we call charity as what I have just said, if left by itself, would seem to imply. That is indeed the common form assumed by sympathy which has to be called out. But the best type of sympathy is the expression of our knowledge of one another; it is based on our knowledge of human nature and our interest in human beings. Because it is based on knowledge it is not subject to be swept away by the sweet breezes of sentimentalism. To its perfect exercise it is needful to know individuals not merely to know about them. The ordinary limitations of sympathy come from this, that we do not want to take time and pains to know one another. That, for example, is where the Church falls short in its mission to constitute a real brotherhood among its members--they have no time nor inclination really to know one another, or they find the artificial walls that society has erected impassable. It is, in fact, not very easy to know one another, and it is impossible to develop the complete type of sympathy with a crowd. For one must insist that this highest type of sympathy requires, what the word actually does mean, mutual sharing in life, the participation in the lives of our fellows and their partaking in our lives. So we understand why perfect sympathy is conditioned on spirituality. Unless we are spiritually developed and spiritually at one we cannot share in one another's lives fully. Where there are lives separated by a gulf of spiritual differences the completest sympathy is impossible. And we understand why Incarnate seems so much nearer to us than God unincarnate. It is true that "the Father Himself loveth you"; it is true that it is the love of the Blessed Trinity that is expressed in the Incarnation. The Incarnation did not create God's love and sympathy, it only reveals it. Yet it is precisely the Incarnation that enables us to lay hold on God's sympathy with a certainty and sureness of grasp that we would not otherwise have. The sight of "God in Christ reconciling the world unto Himself" is more to us in the way of proof than any amount of declaration can be. To be told of the sympathy of God is one thing, to see how it works is another. Our personal need in this matter is to find the sympathy that will help us in something outside ourselves, outside the limitations of human nature. Much as we value human sympathy, precious as we find its expression, yet we do find that it has for the higher purposes of life serious limitations. It has very little power to execute what it finds needs to be done. A man may understand another's weakness and may utterly sympathise with it; he may advise and console, but in the end he finds that he cannot adequately help. The case is hopeless unless he can point the sufferer to some source outside himself on which he can draw, unless he can lead him to the sympathy of God. God can offer not only consolation, not only the spectacle of another life which has triumphed under analogous circumstances, but He can give the power to this present weak and discouraged life to triumph in the place where it is. He can "make a way of escape." But there is another form of sympathy which we crave and need which is just the communion of soul with soul. We are not asking anything more or other than to show ourselves. We are overwhelmed with the loneliness of life. It comes upon us in the most crowded places, this sense of separation from all about us. Oh, that I might flee away and be at rest, is our feeling. It is here that we specially need our Lord. Blessed are we if we have learned to find in Him the rest we need for our souls, if we have learned to open the door that leads always to Him; or, perhaps to knock appealingly at that door which He will never fail to open. It is then that we find the joy of the invitation "Come unto me all ye that are weary and heavy laden and I will give you rest." But Christ, the perfect Sympathiser, has associated others with Himself. If we can go to him, so can others; the Way is open to all. And those who go and are associated with Him are gathered into a family. Here among those who have followed the interests which are ours, and have pursued the ends that we are pursuing, and cultivated the qualities which we value, we feel sure of that sympathetic understanding of life which we seek. And especially among those members of the Body who have gone on to the end in fidelity to the ideals of the life which is hid with Christ in God shall we look for understanding and help. It is from this point of view that the Communion of Saints will mean so much to us. We value the strength of mutual support which inevitably grows out of associated life. We cannot think of the saints of God as having passed beyond us into some place of rest where they are content to forget the problems of earth: rather we are compelled to think of them as still actively sharing in those interests which are still the interests of their divine Head. Until, Jesus Himself cease to think of us who are still in the Pilgrim Way, and cease to offer Himself on our behalf, we cannot think of any who are in Him as other than intensely interested in us of the earthly Church, or as doing other than helping by prayer for us that we with them may attain our end. And especially shall we feel sure that at any moment of our lives we may turn to the Mother in confident expectancy of finding most helpful sympathy and most ready aid. Her life to-day is a life of intercession, of intercession which has all the power of perfect understanding and perfect sympathy. Let us learn to go to her; let us learn that as God is praised and honoured in His saints, as our Lord choses to work through those who are united to Him, so it is His will that great power of prayer shall be hers of whom He assumed our nature, that nature through which He still distributes the riches of His grace. As I lay upon a night, My thought was on a Lady bright That men callen Mary of might, Redemptoris Mater. To her came Gabriel so bright And said, "Hail, Mary, full of might, To be called thou art adight;" Redemptoris Mater. Right as the sun shineth in glass, So Jesus in His Mother was, And thereby wit men that she was Redemptoris Mater. Now is born that Babe of bliss, And Queen of Heaven His Mother is, And therefore think me that she is Redemptoris Mater. After to heaven He took His flight, And there He sits with His Father of might, With Him is crowned that Lady bright, Redemptoris Mater. English, Fifteenth Century. PART TWO CHAPTER V THE VISITATION II And Mary said, My soul doth magnify the Lord, and my spirit hath rejoiced in God my Saviour. S. Luke I. 46, 47. Forasmuch as we have no excuse, because of the multitude of our sins, we plead through thee, O Virgin Mother of God, with Him whom thou didst bear. Lo, great is thine intercession, strong and acceptable with our Saviour. O Stainless Mother, reject not us sinners in thine intercession with Him Whom thou didst bear. COPTIC. Wonderful was this day in the little town of Judah where these two women, each in her way an instrument of God in the upbuilding of His Kingdom, met and rejoiced together. There is revealed to us something of the possibilities of our religion when we try to follow the thought of these two women. They are so utterly devoted to God that God can speak to them. I think that it is well for us to dwell on this fact for a moment. We are apt to look upon inspiration, what is described as being filled with the Holy Ghost, as somewhat of a mechanical mode of God's operation. Our mistaken view is that God takes control of the faculties of a human being and uses them for His own purposes. But that is quite to misunderstand God's method. God uses the faculties of a man in proportion as the man yields himself to Him; and one who is living a sincere religion becomes in a degree the medium of God's self-expression. This possibility of expressing God increases as we increase in sanctity. Those who have completely yielded themselves to God in a life of sanctity become in a deep sense the representatives of God: they have, in S. Paul's phraseology, His mind. To be capable of so becoming the divine instrument it is necessary, not only to offer no opposition to God's purposes, but to make ourselves the active executants of them. Our Christian vocation is thus to be the instrument of God, to be the visible demonstrations of His power and presence. There is a true inspiration, a true speaking for God to-day, no doubt, as true as at any time in the Church's history, wherever there is sanctity. What is lacking to present day utterances of sanctity is not the action of the Holy Spirit, but authentication by the Church: that is given only under certain special circumstances and for special purposes. But there is no need to limit the inspiring action of the Holy Spirit to such utterances as for special reasons have received official recognition. What we need to feel is the constant action of the Holy Spirit--that He wants to speak through every man. And it helps to clear our minds if we go to our Bibles with the expectation of finding here, not exceptions to all rules which obtain in common life, but types of the divine action. The isolation of Bible history has done much to create a feeling of its unreality. What has happened only in the Bible can, we are apt to feel, safely be disregarded in daily life in the twentieth century. But if what we find there is customary modes of divine action in life, exceptional in detail rather than in principle, the attitude we shall take will be wholly different. We shall then study them with the feeling expressed in S. Paul's saying, "These things are written for our learning," and we shall expect to find in us and about us the same order of divine action, we shall learn to look on our lives as having their chief meaning in the fact that they are possible instruments of God; we shall learn to regard failure as failure to show forth God to the world. In a way we can read our facts backward: the fact that "Elizabeth was filled with the Holy Ghost," and the fact that Mary under the same divine impulse gave utterance to the words of the Magnificat, is a revelation of the character of these two women which would satisfy us of their sanctity had we no other evidence of it. The choice of them by God to be His instruments is evidence of the divine approval; and that approval can never be false to the facts; what God treats as holy must be holy. So we come to holy Mary's Song with the feeling that in studying it we shall find in it a revelation of S. Mary herself. She is not an instrument on which the Holy Spirit plays, but an intelligent being through whom He acts. She, like S. Elizabeth, is filled with the Holy Spirit--she had never been in the slightest degree out of union with God--but still the Magnificat is her utterance; it represents her thought; it is the measure, if one may so put it, in modern terminology, of her degree of spiritual culture. Much that we say about S. Mary, her simplicity, her social place, and so on, seems to carry with it the implication of the ignorance and spiritual dullness that we associate with the type of poverty we are accustomed to to-day. But the poor folk whom we meet in association with our Lord are neither ignorant nor spiritually dull; and it would be a vast mistake to think of Blessed Mary as other than of great intelligence and spiritual receptivity, or as deficient in understanding of the details of her ancestral religion. We have no reason to be surprised that she should sing Magnificat, or to think that the Holy Spirit was speaking through her thoughts which were quite beyond her comprehension. Inspired she was, but inspired, no doubt, to utter thoughts that had many times filled her mind. Her spiritual attitude as revealed in the Magnificat is but the attitude which must have been hers habitually--the attitude that exalts God and not self. "My soul doth magnify the Lord, and my spirit hath rejoiced in God my Saviour." That is the starting-place of all holy souls--the adoration of God. True humility is never self-conscious because self is lost in the vision of God. S. Mary was bearing in her pure body the very Son of God. Admit, if you will, that as yet she did not understand the full reach of her vocation; but she did know that she had been chosen by God in a most signal manner to be the instrument of His purpose. That which S. Elizabeth spoke under divine impulse,--"Whence is this that the mother of my Lord should come to me?"--must have had clear meaning for her. But the wonder of all that God is accomplishing through her only brings her to God's feet. That "He that is mighty hath done me great things," is but the evidence of His sanctity, not of her greatness. One never gets through wondering at the beauty of humility; and it is one of the marks of how far we are from spiritual apprehension when we find this splendid virtue unattractive. It does indeed cut across many of the instinctive impulses of our nature; it can hardly be said to have dawned on humanity as a virtue until the Incarnation of God. Therein it has revealed to us God's attitude in His work and, by consequence, the natural attitude of all such as would associate themselves with God. It is not so much a self-denying as a self-forgetting virtue. It is ruined by the very consciousness of it. Such phrases as "practicing humility" seem self-contradictory--when one begins to practice humility it becomes something else. We do not conceive of our Lady as setting out to be humble, of thinking of what a humble person would do under such and such circumstances. She does not, as I was saying, think of herself at all, but thinks of God. The "great things" she has are His gift. That He has looked upon her low estate, and that in consequence of His visitation "all generations shall call her blessed," is a manifestation of the divine glory and goodness, not an occasion of pride to the recipient of God's gifts. We who are so self-seeking, who are so greedy of praise, who are constantly wanting what we feel is our due, who hunger to be "appreciated," who are full of proud boasting about our accomplishment, will do well to meditate upon this point of view. We acknowledge the supremacy of God with our lips, but in our acts we are quite prone to assume that we are independent actors in the universe where whatever we have is due to our own creative powers. We claim a certain lordship over life, a certain independent use of it. We resent the pressure of religious principle as setting up a sort of counter-claim to control that which it is ours to dispose of as we will. Most of our difficulties come from this godless attitude which claims independence of life. It results in a religion which is willing to pay God tribute, but is not willing to belong to God. But the humble person has nothing of his own and moreover wants nothing; he wants simply that God shall use him, that he shall be found a ready instrument in God's hands. It is this readiness that we find in Blessed Mary when she answered the astonishing announcement of the angel with her, "Behold the Handmaid of the Lord." It is that quality which we find in her here when she construes God's purpose in terms which go out far beyond her individual life and sees in her experience but one item in God's dealing with humanity in His age-long work of "bringing His wanderers home." We should have far less difficulty and find our lives far more significant if we could get rid of our wretched egotism and find it possible to lose ourselves in the work of God. We should then find the work important because it is God's work and not because we are associated with it. We should also find it less easy to be discouraged because we should not understand our failure to be the failure of God. Discouragement is but one of the aspects of egotism, and not the most attractive. We cannot rise to anything like a passion of holiness unless we have found God to be all in all. Only so can we lose ourselves in God. And I must, at whatever risk of over-dwelling, stress the fact that we can only attain this point of view by dwelling on God and not on self. Let God be the foreground of our thought. Let our souls magnify the Lord. Let us dwell upon the "great things" God has done for us. In every life there is such a wonderful manifestation of the divine goodness--only we do not take time to look for it. It is well to take the time: to write out, if need be, our spiritual history. We shall then find abundant evidence of the goodness of God. It may be that it is a goodness that is seen chiefly in offers, in opportunities to be something which we have declined or have only imperfectly realized. Be that as it may, there is no life, I am quite convinced, that has not a spiritual history which is a marvellous history of what God at least wanted to do for it. It is also a history of what He actually has done: a history of graces, of rich gifts, of deliverances. It matters not that we have been so heedless as to miss most of what God has done. The facts stand and are discoverable whenever we care to pay enough attention to them to ascertain their true meaning. When we do that, then surely we shall be compelled to do, what blessed Mary never needed to do, fall at God's feet in an act of penitence, seeing ourselves, perhaps for the first time, in the light of God's mind. The Magnificat, if we consider it as a personal expression, is a wonderful expression of selfless devotion, where the perception of the glory and majesty of God excludes all other thoughts. It is, too, a thanksgiving for the personal gift which is her vocation to be the Mother of the Saviour. Out of her lowliness she has been exalted--how highly she herself cannot at the time have dreamed. We can see what was necessarily involved in God's choice of her, and to-day we think of her as in her perfect purity exalted in heaven far above all other creatures. Mother of God most holy we call her, and in the words of her canticle ever repeat her thanksgiving as our thanksgiving, too, for the vocation that God sent her and for the gift which through her has come to us. But there is a more universal aspect of the Magnificat. Essentially it is the presentation of the constant antithesis which runs through all revelation between the flesh and the spirit, between the Kingdom of God and the Kingdom of this world. It embodies the conception of God striving to save a world which has revolted from Him, and now at last entering upon that stage of His work which is the beginning of a triumph over all the powers of the adversary. In Mary's song the contrasted powers are still presented under the Old Testament terminology which was the natural form of her thought. The adversaries of God are the proud, the mighty, the rich; while those who are on God's side are the humble, the god-fearers, the hungry. The form of the thought and its essential meaning remain the same through the centuries, though our terminology changes somewhat. Presently in the pages of the New Testament we shall get the presentation as the contrast between the children of this world and the sons of God. We shall find the briefest expression of the latter to be the saints. We no longer feel that rich and poor express a spiritual contrast. Nor do we, who are quite accustomed to the action of labour leaders, regard social position as being the exclusive seat of arrogancy. But we know that the spiritual values which are expressed in the varying terminology are constant; we know that the warfare between God and not-God is still the most important phenomenon in the universe. And it happens as we look out on the battlefield where the forces of good and evil contend, where before our eyes they seem to sway back and forth on the field of human life with every varying fortunes, that we not seldom feel that the battle is not obviously falling to the side of righteousness. There come moments when we are oppressed by what seems to us the lack of power in the ideals of righteousness. The appeal of the proud and of the rich is so dazzling; the splendour of the visible kingdom of the world is so intoxicating, the contagion of the crowd which follows the uplifted banner of Satan is so penetrating, that we hardly wonder to see the new generations carried away in the sweep of popular enthusiasm. Here is excitement, exhilarating enjoyment, the throb and sting of the flesh, the breathless whirl of gaiety, the physical quiet of satisfied desires. What is there to appeal on the other side? As the crowds troop past to the sound of music and dancing they for a moment raise their eyes, and above them rises a hill whereon is a Cross and on the Cross an emaciated Victim is nailed, and at the foot of the Cross a small group of discouraged folk--S. John, The blessed Mother, the other Mary--stunned by the grief born of the death of Son and Friend. These two utterances stand in eternal contrast: "All these things will I give thee, if thou wilt fall down and worship me": and, "I, if I be lifted up, will draw all men unto me." As yet the appeal made from an "exceeding high mountain" visibly seems to prevail against that made from "the place which is called Calvary." And what have we to counteract the depression which is the natural reaction from the spectacle of the world-rejection of Christ? We have the truth which is embodied in Mary's Magnificat, we have the fact of Mary's vocation to be the Mother of God. The revelation of God's meaning and purpose is a basis of optimism which no promise of Satan can overthrow. When all is said, the view from the exceeding high mountain is a view of the Kingdom of this world only; from the place called Calvary you can see the Kingdom of God as well. From this point of vantage alone the permanent values of life are visible; and to the taunt flung at us, the taunt so terrifying to the young, "You are losing life," the enigmatic reply from the Cross is that you have to lose life to gain it; that permanent and eternal values are acquired by those who have the self-restraint and the foresight not to sacrifice the substance to the shadow, nor to mistake the toys of childhood for the riches of manhood. "In the meantime life is passing and the shadows draw in and you have not attained" so they say. True: we count not ourselves to have yet attained; but we press on toward the mark of our high calling in Christ Jesus our Lord. We are not in a hurry, because the crown we are seeking is amaranthine, unfading. We are not compelled to compress our enjoyment within a given time; we do not awake each morning with the thought that we may not outlast the daylight; we are not hurried and fevered with the sense of our fragility. The kingdoms of the world and the glory of them must be seized now: Satan cannot afford to wait because his kingdom has an end. But God can afford to wait because of His Kingdom there is no end. We are content then with _promises_ and with such partial fulfilment as we find on our pilgrim-way. We are content because we see the end in the beginning. To those who in the first days of the Church objected that though the promises were wonderful and abundant the fulfilment was small; to those who said we do not yet see the perfection of the kingdom; the answer of inspiration was: True, we do not yet see the accomplishment of all of God's promises, but we do see Jesus. And there is where we stand to-day. The work that God has to do in the spiritualising of the human race is tremendous; but we actually see its beginning in Jesus, and we are content to wait with God for the perfect accomplishment. And we must remember when we think of the work of God in terms of time, that the length of time that is required to accomplish the spiritualisation of the human race is not to be estimated in terms of the divine will but in terms of the human will. It is not divine power but human resistance which is the determining factor, for God will not compel us to obey Him, nor would compelled obedience have any spiritual value. And we can estimate something of the human resistance that has to be overcome by concentrating attention upon one unit of that resistance. That is, we can learn from the study of our own life what is the resistance of one human being to the triumph of the will of God; and, taking oneself as a fair sample of the race can multiply our resistance to God's will by the numbers of the race. We are perfectly certain of the will of God: God wills that all men shall come to the knowledge of the truth and be saved. "This is the will of God, even your sanctification." So far as we are thwarting that will we are playing into the hands of the power of evil. But that power is of limited existence; it draws to its end. Its death knell was struck when the noon-day darkness lifted from Calvary. Therefore the rejoicing of blessed Mary, whose Song reads the necessary end in the beginning, is well considered; and we rejoice with her and in her. It is our privilege--and it is a vast privilege--to rejoice in blessed Mary as the instrument of God in bringing the triumph of His Kingdom one stage nearer its accomplishment. And in especial we rejoice because we see in her one more, and the most marked, illustration of the divine method. "He hath regarded the low estate of His Handmaiden." "He hath exalted them of low degree." "He hath filled the hungry." The method of God is to work to His results through those who are spiritually receptive. The less of self there is in us the more room there is for God. "The Kingdom of God is within you," that is, the starting-point of God's work in the building of the Kingdom is within the soul of man. He must master the inner man, must win the allegiance of our souls, before His work can make any progress at all. The Kingdom of God cometh not "with observation," that is, from the outside in an exhibition of power; it must of necessity come from the inside in demonstration of the Spirit. "As many as are led by the Spirit of God, they are the sons of God." In blessed Mary we see the new starting-point in this last stage of the work of God. For the foreseen merits of her Son she is brought into union with God and spared the taint of sin, and becomes the second Eve, the Mother of the new race. Acting upon her pure humanity, the Holy Spirit produces that humanity which joined to the divinity in the Second Person of the Blessed Trinity becomes the Christ, the Son of the Living God. In Mary's rejoicing in this so great fact, the bringing of human redemption, we rightly share. It is with a right understanding of her Song that the Church throughout the ages has embodied it in its worship and through it constantly rejoices in God its Saviour. The actual detailed accomplishment of God's work in man's redemption is going on under our eyes. It is regrettable that human stupidity seems to prefer dwelling upon what seem God's failures, and are actually our own, rather than upon the constant triumphs of grace. But God reigns; and we can always find grounds of optimism if we can find that He is day by day reigning more perfectly in us. When we pray "Thy Kingdom Come," the field to examine for the fulfilment of our prayers is the field of our own souls. Our Lady took the road To Zachary's abode; O'er mountain, vale and lea, Full many a league sped she Toward Hebron's holy hill, By God's command and will. Full light did Mary, make Of trouble for his sake. God's Very Son of yore Within her breast she bore; And angels bright and fair, Unseen, her fellows were. She, ere she took her way, An orison would say, That God her steps might tend Safe to their journey's end; And there, in manner meet, Her cousin she 'gan greet. Elizabeth full fain Eft bowed her head again; She wist 'twas God's own Bride, As, worshipful she cried: 'O Lady, Full of Grace, Whence do I see thy face?' O House and Home of bliss, O earthly Paradis-- Nay, Heaven itself on ground Wherein the Lord is found, The Lord of Glory bright, In goodness great and might-- Clean Maiden thou that art, Come, visit this my heart; And bring me chief my Good, God's Son in Flesh and Blood; Bless body, soul; and bide For ever by my side. From the Köln Gesang-Buch. XVI Cent. PART TWO CHAPTER VI S. JOSEPH Joseph, her husband, being a just man-- S. Matt. I. 19. O God, our refuge and our strength, look down in mercy upon thy people who cry to thee; and by the intercession of the glorious and immaculate Virgin Mary, mother of God, of St. Joseph her spouse, and of thy blessed apostles Peter and Paul, and of all saints, in mercy and goodness hear our prayers for the conversion of sinners, and for the liberty and exaltation of our holy mother the church. Through. ROMAN. When we read the Gospels, not simply as a record of events but as revelation of the method of God, we are constantly impressed with what we cannot otherwise describe than as the care of God for detail. There is a curious type of mind which finds it possible to think of God as Creator and Ruler of the universe, but impossible to conceive Him as interested in or concerning Himself with the minutiae of human life; who can conceive God as caring for a solar system or a planet, but not as caring for a baby. Surely it is a strange notion of God that thinks of Him as estimating values in terms of weight and measure: surely much more intelligible is the Gospel presentation of Him as concerned with spritual values and exercising that minute care over human life which is best expressed by the word _Father_. It is very significant that as the volume of revelation unrolls, the earlier notions of God as Ruler, Governor, King, give way to the notion of Father, until in our Lord's presentation of the character of God it is His Fatherhood which stands in the forefront. What our Lord emphasises in the character of God are precisely the qualities of love and care and sympathy which the word Father connotes. And nowhere do we see this loving care of God which we call His Providence better set out for our study than in the detailed preparation which preceded and attended the birth of His Son into this world. There was that preparation of the Mother who was to be the source of the humanity of the Child Jesus which we have been dwelling upon; there was also the preparation for the proper guardianship of both Mother and Child during the years of Jesus' immaturity. There are certain things which are self-evident when once we turn our minds to them; and it is thus self-evident that the care of our Lord and of His Blessed Mother would require the preparation of the man to whom they should be committed. In the state of society into which our Lord was born, He and His Mother would need active guardianship of a peculiar nature. The man who should provide for our Lord's infancy must be a man, in the nature of the case, who was receptive of spiritual monitions and devoted to the will of God. It was a delicate matter to live before the world as the husband of Mary of Nazareth, and to live before God as the guardian of her virginity and as the foster-father of her divine Son. Only a very choice nature could respond to the demands thus made upon it, a nature which had been habitually responsive to the will of God and long nurtured by the richness of His grace. We know very little of St. Joseph; but God's choice of him for the office he was to fulfil near the blessed Virgin Mary and her Son reveals the nature of the man. He is described to us as "a just man," one whose judgment would not be swayed by prejudices, but who would be open to the consideration of any case upon its merits: a man who would not view events in the light of their effect upon himself and his plans, but who can calmly consider what in given circumstances is due to others. Such men are rare at any time for their production is a matter of slow discipline. We gather that both S. Joseph and S. Mary were of the same lineage, were descended from the same ancestor, David. We gather also that S. Joseph was much older than his bethrothed wife, for he had been already married and had a family. All the notices of these brothers and sisters of the Lord imply that they were considerably older than the Child of Mary, and that they felt that they had the sort of authority over Him which commonly belongs to the elder children of a family; the sort of doubt and criticism of His course which would be the instinctive attitudes of elders toward the unprecedented course of a younger. We have, I think, a right to infer from the terms of the narrative, that S. Joseph would have been well acquainted with S. Mary and was not taking a wife who was a stranger to him. Indeed, considering the actual development of the situation, I myself feel quite certain that those are right who maintain that the proposed marriage was intended to be merely a nominal union, the ultimate design of which was the protection of the virginity of Mary. I find it impossible to think of that virginity as other than of deliberate purpose from the beginning, and prompted by the Spirit of God for the purposes of God for which it served. There is, to be sure, no revelation of this in Holy Scripture, but there are facts which suggest themselves to the devout meditations of saints which we feel that we may safely take on the authority of their spiritual intuitions. Such a fact is this of Mary's purposed virginity which I am content to accept on the basis of its congruity with S. Mary's life and vocation. Of the fact of her perpetual virginity there can be no dispute among Catholic Christians. To S. Joseph thus preparing himself to be the guardian of the blessed Virgin it could only come as a tremendous shock that she should be found with a child. Our character comes out at such times of trial as when something that we had taken quite for granted fails us, and we are left breathless and bewildered in in the face of what would have seemed impossible even had we thought of it. What was S. Joseph's attitude? The beauty and sanity of his character at once shows itself. Grieved and disheartened as he must have been, disappointed as he could not but be, he yet thinks at once of his bethrothed, not of himself. How far could he save her?--that was his first thought. He would at least avoid publicity. "Being a just man, and not willing to make her a public example, he was minded to put her away privily." It is the quality that we express by the word benevolence--the quality of mature and deliberate wisdom. We feel that such a man could be trusted under any circumstances of life. We feel, too, that God would not leave S. Joseph in doubt as to the course he was to pursue, or as to the character of Mary herself. There could no shade of suspicion be permitted to rest upon her. Hence "while he thought on these things, behold, the angel of the Lord appeared unto him in a dream, saying, Joseph, thou son of David, fear not to take unto thee Mary thy wife: for that which is conceived in her is of the Holy Ghost. And she shall bring forth a son, and thou shalt call his name JESUS: for he shall save his people from their sins." It is not difficult to imagine the joy of S. Joseph at this angelic message. We all know the sense of relief which comes when, after facing a most trying situation, and being forced to make up our minds to act when action either way is almost equally painful, we find that we are delivered from the necessity of acting at all, that the whole state of things has been utterly misunderstood. It was so with S. Joseph; and in his case there was the added joy which springs from the nature of the coming Child as the angel explains it to him. He who had accepted the charge of Mary was now to add to that charge the charge of her Child: and the Child is the very Saviour whom his soul and the souls of all pious Israelites had longed for. "Thou shalt call his name Jesus, for he shall save his people from their sins." We cannot expect that S. Joseph would have taken in the full meaning of this message, but he would have understood that he was called to a wondrous co-operation with God in the work of the redemption of Israel. As we think of S. Joseph it is this co-operation which is the significant thing in his life. As we study human life in the only way in which it is much worth while to study it, in the light of revelation, it becomes clear to us that there is purpose in all human life. Often we observe a purpose that we are not able to grasp, but in the light of what we know from revelation we do not doubt of its presence. Even lives that seem obscure and insignificant we feel sure must have a divine meaning; and the pathetic thing about most human life is that it never dreams of its own significance. We are consumed with the notion that God's instruments must be great, while it is on the face of revelation that they are commonly humble and of seeming insignificance. It is the work that is important, and the instrument becomes important through its relation to the work. We all at least have the common vocation of the Christian, and it would be difficult to exaggerate the spiritual significance of that. S. Joseph seems to us at once set apart by his vocation to be the guardian of the divine Child, to protect and to nurture the years of His human immaturity. This is no doubt a unique vocation, but is it quite so far separated from ordinary Christian experience as we assume? You and I are also constituted guardians of the divine Presence. This very morning, it may be, we have received within the Tabernacle of our breast the same Presence that S. Joseph guarded--the Presence of Incarnate God. In that Presence of His humanity our Lord abode with us but a few minutes and then the Presence withdrew: but He left behind Him a real gift, the gift of an increase in sacramental grace. Was that a light thing: Was it indeed so much less than the vocation of S. Joseph? And how have we guarded this Presence? Those few moments after the reception of our Incarnate Lord at the altar--how do we habitually spend them? Do we spend them in guarding the Presence? There is much to be learned about the meaning and the value of guarding the Eucharistic Gift. Our thanksgiving after Communion is fully as important as our preparation for receiving it. I am more and more inclined to think that much of the fruitlessness of communions which is so sad a side of the life of the Church is due to careless reception and inadequate thanksgiving. It is the adoration of our Lord within the Tabernacle of our body and thanksgiving to Him for having come to us that is the _appropriation_ of the Gift of the Sacrament. He comes to us and offers Himself to us with all the benefits of His life and death; and then having offered Himself "He makes as though he would go farther," and he does actually go, unless we are awake to our spiritual opportunity, and constrain Him, saying, "abide with us, for it is toward evening and the day is far spent." We think of S. Joseph then, as with a relieved and rejoicing heart he enters upon his new realised vocation as the head of the Holy Family. The marriage which he had been upon the point of abandoning he now enters that he may give S. Mary and her coming Child his full protection. So S. Joseph "took unto him his wife; and knew her not till she had brought forth her first-born Son." These words have been so misunderstood as to imply that the marriage of S. Joseph and S. Mary was consummated after the birth of our Lord. Grammatically they convey no such implication; the mode of expression is perfectly simple and well known by which a fact is affirmed to exist up to a certain time without any implication as to what happens after. And the meaning of the passage which is not at all necessitated by its grammatical construction is utterly intolerable in Catholic teaching. The constant teaching of the Church is the perpetual virginity of Mary--that she was a virgin "before and in and after her child-bearing." There was to be sure an heretic named Helvidius who taught otherwise, but he was promptly repudiated by all Catholic teachers and but served to emphasize the depth and clearness of the Catholic tradition. Upon this point there has never been any wavering in the mind of the Church, and to hold otherwise shows a lamentable lack of a Catholic perception of values and but a superficial grasp upon what is involved in the Incarnation. The impression we get of S. Joseph is that of a man of great simplicity and gentleness of character--that childlikeness which was later praised by his foster Son. Such qualities do not produce much impression on the superficial observer, but they are of great spiritual value. They are the concomitants of a special type of open-mindedness. Open-mindedness is a quality much praised and little practiced. But the open-mindedness which is commonly praised is not the open-mindedness which is praiseworthy. What is at present meant by open-mindedness is in reality failure to have any mind at all upon a given subject. It is the attitude of doubt which never proceeds so far as to arrive at a solution. To have an open mind means to the contemporary man to hold all conclusions loosely, to consider all things open to question, to be ready to abandon what now appears to be true in favour of something which to-morrow may appear to be more true. In other words, we are invited to base life on pure scepticism. Now no life can be so conducted. We live by a faith of some sort, whether it be a faith in God or no. The most sceptical mind has to believe something to act at all. It cannot even doubt without affirming a belief in its own intellectual processes. The open mind that never reaches any certainty to fill it is a very poor possession indeed. And it is not at all what we mean when we say of S. Joseph that he was open-minded. We mean that he was receptive of new spiritual impressions and capable of further spiritual development. There are minds, and they are not unusual among people of a certain degree of spiritual development, which we can best describe as having reached a given stage of growth and then shut up. Or, to vary the figure, they impress one as having a certain capacity, and when that has been reached, being able to contain nothing further. They come to a stop. From that point they try to maintain the position they have acquired. But that is impossible: they inevitably fall away unless they are going forward. When the power of spiritual assimilation is dead, we are spiritually in a dying condition. What we mean by having an open and childlike mind, then, is that one has this power of spiritual assimilation and, consequently, a power of growth. The sceptic is afflicted with spiritual indigestion; he is an invalid who is quite certain that any food that is offered him is indigestible. His soul withers away through its incapacity to believe. The open-minded saint has a healthy spiritual digestion. This does not mean that, in vulgar parlance, he can, "swallow anything"; it does mean a power of discrimination between food offered him,--that he assimilates what is wholesome and rejects the rest. The sceptic is pessimistic as to the existence of any wholesome food at all; he starves his soul for fear that he should believe something that is not true. The saint, with the test of faith, sorts the food proposed to him, and grows in grace, and consequently in the knowledge and the love of God. Open-mindedness is sensitiveness to spiritual impressions, readiness for spiritual advance, even when such impressions cut across much that has seemed to us well settled, and such advance involves the upset of his established ways of thought. What distinguishes the evolution in the thought of the sceptic from that in the thought of the saint is that in the one case the result is destructive and in the other constructive. The sceptic is like a man who starts to build a house, and then periodically tears down what he has so far built and begins again on a new plan; the saint is like the house builder who broadens his plan in the course of construction, and who finds that within the limits of his general scheme there is room for indefinite improvement. The one never gets any building at all; the other gets a palace of which the last stages are of a more highly decorated school of architecture than he had conceived, or indeed, could conceive, when he began his work. In S. Joseph's case nothing could be more revolutionary in appearance than the truth he was asked to accept. He was asked to believe in the virgin-motherhood of his bethrothed, and in the fact that the Child soon to be born was He Who was to save Israel from his sins. He was asked to accept these incredible statements and to act upon them by taking Mary to wife as he had proposed. And he did not hesitate to accept the evidence of a dream and act in accordance with it. How could he do this? Because the required action which seemed so revolutionary of all his previous notions was, in fact, quite in accordance with his knowledge of God and of the promises of God. Though a simple man, perhaps because he was a simple man, he would know something of the teaching of the prophets. That teaching would have given him thoughts about God which would have, unconsciously, prepared him for these new acts of God. Though we cannot see before how a prophecy is to be fulfiled, after the event we can see that this is what is intended by it. We were actually being prepared by the prophecy for what was to take place. And thus, no doubt, S. Joseph's mind, being filled with the teaching of the Scriptures which he had heard read in the Synagogue every Sabbath day, would find that this new act of God on which he was asked to rely was, in fact, but a new step in the unfolding of that Providence which had for centuries been shaping the history of his nation. It is a quality to cultivate, this simple open-mindedness which is ready to respond to new spiritual impulses. It is precisely what prevents that deadly attitude of soul which proceeds as though religion were for us exhausted: as though we had reached the limit of expectancy. But to expect nothing is to receive nothing, because it is only expectancy that perceives what is offered. We move in a world which is thronged with spirtual impulses and energetic with spiritual powers. God is trying to lead us on to new spiritual experiences by which we may attain to a better understanding of Him. There is no assignable limit to our possible growth. But we fix a limit when we close our souls to further experiences by the practical denial that they exist. If we are childlike, we are always expecting new things of our Father; if we are open-minded we are alive to the activities of the spiritual world. We are conscious of possessing a growing religion, a religion truly evolutionary, constantly bringing to our knowledge unsuspected riches stored in the very principles whose meaning we had assumed that we had exhausted. Perhaps one of the treasures of our religion of which we have not achieved full consciousness is God's choice of us to be the guardians of His revelation. It is our charge "to keep the faith." I suppose that this responsibility is commonly regarded as belonging to some vaguely imagined Church which hands it on from generation to generation, to us among others, but without imposing on us an obligation of any active sort. But we are the Church--members in particular of the Body of Christ. And in the dissemination of the faith the last appeal is to us, not to some outside tribunal. When the Church wishes to discover its faith and make it articulate, its place of search is in the minds and hearts of the faithful. Our responsibility is to testify to the Catholic Faith, not so much by positively asserting it as by making it active and vivid in our lives so that its presence and power can by no means be mistaken. You, for instance, in common with the rest of the faithful, are the custodians of this truth of the perpetual virginity of the Blessed Virgin Mary. It may seem a small matter, but it is not. That it is not is readily seen from this fact, that when the perpetual virginity of our Blessed Mother is denied then also the Incarnation of her Son is denied or is held only in a half-hearted way. The Church stresses such facts, not only because they are facts, but because by their character they form a hedge about the truth of the Incarnation of our Lord. And we who are Catholic Christians must feel an obligation to hold fast this fact. We ought actively to show our firm adherence to it. How? Chiefly by our attitude towards Blessed Mary herself, by the devotion that we show her. If we are quite indifferent to devotion to Blessed Mary, if we show her no honour, if we likewise fail in honour to her guardian, S. Joseph, is it not to be expected that our grasp upon the truths which are enshrined in such devotion will be feeble, and that we shall hold them as of small moment? The whole system of Catholic thought is so nicely articulated, so consistently held together, that failure to hold even the smallest constituent indicates a faulty conception of the whole. Catholics are constantly accused of over-stressing devotion to blessed Mary and the saints and thereby encroaching upon the honour due to our Lord. The answer to the reproach is to be found in the question: Who to-day are defending to the very death the truth of our Lord's Incarnation and the truths that hang upon it? Are they those who deny the legitimacy of invocation, or those in whose religious practise it holds an important and vital place? A PANEGYRICK ON THE BLESSED VIRGIN MARY. I do not tremble, when I write A Mistress' praise, but with delight Can dive for pearls into the flood, Fly through every garden, wood, Stealing the choice of flow'rs and wind, To dress her body or her mind; Nay the Saints and Angels are Nor safe in Heaven, till she be fair, And rich as they; nor will this do, Until she be my idol too. With this sacrilege I dispense, No fright is in my conscience, My hand starts not, nor do I then Find any quakings in my pen; Whose every drop of ink within Dwells, as in me my parent's sin, And praises on the paper wrot Have but conspired to make a blot: Why should such fears invade me now That writes on her? to whom do bow The souls of all the just, whose place Is next to God's, and in his face All creatures and delights doth see As darling of the Trinity; To whom the Hierarchy doth throng, And for whom Heaven is all one song. Joys should possess my spirit here, But pious joys are mixed with fear: Put off thy shoe, 'tis holy ground, For here the flaming Bush is found, The mystic rose, the Ivory Tower, The morning Star and David's bower, The rod of Moses and of Jesse, The fountain sealèd, Gideon's fleece, A woman clothèd with the Sun, The beauteous throne of Salomon, The garden shut, the living spring, The Tabernacle of the King, The Altar breathing sacred fume, The Heaven distilling honeycomb, The untouched lily, full of dew, A Mother, yet a Virgin too, Before and after she brought forth (Our ransom of eternal worth) Both God and man. What voice can sing This mystery, or Cherub's wing Lend from his golden stock a pen To write, how Heaven came down to men? Here fear and wonder so advance My soul, it must obey a trance. PART TWO CHAPTER VII THE NATIVITY She brought forth her firstborn son, and wrapped him in swaddling clothes, and laid him in a manger; because there was no room for them in the inn. S. Luke II. 7. It is very meet to bless thee who bore the Christ, O ever Blessed and Immaculate Mother of God. More wondrous than the Cherubim and of greater glory than the Seraphim art thou who remaining Virgin didst give birth to God the Word. Verily, do we magnify thee, O Mother of God. In thee, O full of grace, all creation exults, the hierarchy of angels and the race of men. In thee sanctified temple, spiritual paradise, glory of virgins, of whom God took flesh, through whom our God Who was before the world became a Child. Of thy womb He made a throne, and its dominion is more extensive than the heavens. In thee, O full of grace, all creation exults: glory to thee. RUSSIAN. We see a man and a woman on the road to Bethlehem where they are going to be taxed according to the decree of Augustus. Bethlehem would be known to them as the home of their ancestors, for they were both of the lineage of David. It was a painful journey for them for Mary was near the time of her delivery. We follow them along the road and into the village, as the twilight fades, and see them seeking shelter for the night. Bethlehem is a small place and the inn is crowded with those who have come on the errand with them, and the only place where they can find refuge for the night is a stable. But they are not used to luxury, and the stable serves their purpose. It also serves God's purpose. One understands as one reads this narrative of the Nativity what is meant by the Providential government of the world. We see how various lines of action, each free and independent, yet converge to the production of a given event. The different characters in the drama are all pursuing their own courses and yet the result is a true drama, not an unrelated series of events. Caesar's action, Joseph's lineage, our Lord's conception, all working together, bring about the fulfilment of prophecy by the birth of the Messiah in Bethlehem. There is in the universe an over-ruling will which works to its ends by co-operating with human freedom, and not destroying it. We are not the sport of chance, not the slaves of fate, but free men; and yet through our freedom, through our blunders and rebellions and sins as well as through our obedience, the work of God is moving to its conclusion. Man did all that he could to defeat the ends of God and to thwart God's purpose of redemption. Yet on a certain night in Bethlehem of Judea the light of God overcame the human darkness, and the voices of God's angels pierced the human tumult, and Jesus Christ was born. "God of the substance of his Father begotten before all worlds, man of the substance of his mother, born in the world; perfect God and perfect man, of a reasonable soul and human flesh subsisting." The manifestation came to certain shepherds watching their flocks in the fields about Bethlehem; simple men, quite unable to take in the meaning of what they see and hear. One cannot help thinking of what it would have meant in the way of an intellectual revolution if to some Greek or Roman philosopher, speculating on the destiny of humanity, the truth could have come that the future of the world was not in the court of Augustus, that it was not dependent on the Roman armies or Greek learning, but that it was bound up in the career and teaching of a Baby that night born in a stable in an obscure village in Judea. As we imagine such a case we see in the concrete the meaning of the revolution set in motion by this single event; and we are led to adore the ways of God in that He has chosen for the final approach to man for the purpose of redemption, this way of simplicity and humbleness. Man would not have thought of this as the best path for God to follow in this purpose of rescue, but we can be wise after the event and see that this Child born in poverty and obscurity would have fewer entanglements to break through, fewer obstacles to overcome. But these thoughts are far away from the night in Bethlehem. In the stable there where a Baby is lying in Mary's arms and Joseph stands looking on, there is no speculation about the world-consequences of the event. There is rather the splendour of love: the love of the mother in the new found mystery of this her Child; the love of God who has given her the Child. And all is a part of the great mystery of love, of the love wherewith God loves the world. "God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son." Here is the Son, lying in Mary's arms, wrapped in swaddling clothes, and Mary looks into His face as any human mother looks into the face of her child. But through the eyes that smile up into Mary's face, God is looking out on a world of sorrow and pain and sin that He has come to redeem, and for which, in redeeming it, to die. Presently, the shepherds come in and complete the group, the representatives of universal humanity at the birth of their King, We have the whole world-problem in small, but here there is no consciousness of it. No echo of world-politics or of movements of thought break in here. But we know that here is the beginning of that which will set at naught world-politics and revolutionise movements of thought, that here is the centre about which humanity will move in the coming time. Here is that which is fundamental and abiding because here is the one invincible power of the universe--love. All else will fail: prophecies, systems of philosophy, religions, political and social structures; each in the time of its flourishing, proclaiming itself the last word of human wisdom,--these in bewildering succession have arisen and passed away. But love has survived them all. Love never faileth; through the slow succession of the centuries it is winning the world to God. It were well if we could learn to look on the happenings of this world as the miracles of divine love. We think of the power, the justice, the judgment of God as visible in this world's history; but these are but the instruments of love, and all that He does has its foundation in love and receives its impulse from love. This Nativity is the divine love coming into the world on its last adventure, determined to win man, all other means failing, by the extremity of sacrifice. The final word about this Child will be that having loved his own He loved them unto the uttermost, he loved them without stinting, with the uttermost capacity of love. Understanding this meaning of the love of God, we are prepared for the further fact that God uses all sorts of instruments as the instruments of His love. He shares Himself. He pours Himself into human life. He takes men into partnership in the work of redemption. Whenever a soul is mastered by love, it becomes a tool in God's hands. The progress of the Church--of God's Kingdom--might be described as the accumulation of these tools wherewith God works--souls who are so devoted to Him as to be the medium of bringing His power, the power of love, to bear on the souls of their brethren. To be the highest, the most perfect, of all the instruments of redemption God chose Mary of Nazareth to be the Mother of His Son. She is the most complete human embodiment of God's love. She, in her perfect purity, can transmit that love as power with the least loss of energy in the process of transmission. When we think of the saints as the means of God's action, we think of blessed Mary as the highest of the saints and the means most perfectly adapted to God's ends. Here at Bethlehem she holds God in her arms and looks into the human face that He has taken for this present work and all her being is absorbed in love. Oblivious, we think her, of her mean surroundings, of the animals that share with her their stable, of the shepherds who come in and look on in wonder, of S. Joseph standing by in sympathy. Love is all. Love is a passion consuming her being--what can the attendant circumstances matter? And to-day, after all these centuries: to-day the Child is the Ascended and Enthroned Redeemer, His risen and glorified humanity, transmitting something of the divine glory, seated at the right hand of the Majesty of God. And Mary, the Mother? Can we have any other thought than that she who on the first Christmas morning looks into the face of her Baby, still, to-day, looks up into the face of her divine Son, and the look is the same look of love? And can we think of the look that comes back to her from eyes that are human, taken from her body, though they be in very truth the eyes of God--can we think, I say, of the eyes of her Child and her God bringing anything else than the message of love? Can we think that when in answer to our invocation she presents our prayers in union with her own, that love will fail? But let us come back to earth--to Bethlehem--on that first Christmas eve and listen to the songs of the angels as they sing over the star-lit fields. How near heaven seems! How real is God! How joyful is this season of peace to men of good will! The message is of peace, but that peace will need to have its nature explained in the coming years if men's hearts are not to fail them and their faith wither away. It is not a general peace to the world that is being proclaimed. Later on our Lord will say: "My peace I give unto you; not as the world giveth, give I unto you." It is such a gift as can be enjoyed only by men of good will; converted men, that is to say, men whose will is close set with the will of God. For how should there be peace in any world on any other terms? How can there be peace for those who are in rebellion against God? Our Lord can promise peace, and can fulfil His promise because He is bringing a new potency into human life. He is a new way of approach to God, a new way into the Holiest of all. Through His humanity God is united to man, and through it man, any man, can be united to God. And one of the results of that union is this gift of peace, and the fact that it arises from the union explains its new character, why our Lord calls it His peace. This peace is the Christmas gift of the divine child to us. This is the method of God's work, from the inside out; from the spiritual fact to its external result. We do not begin by finding peace with this world: "in the world ye shall have tribulation." And most of the failure to attain peace, and much of men's loss of faith is due to repudiation of the divine method. We live in a disordered and pain-stricken world where human life is uniformly a life of trial and struggle, and our easy yielding to temptation is an attempt at some sort of an adjustment with the world such as we think will produce peace and quiet. We constantly demand of religion that it should effect this for us. So far as one can see much of the revolt against religion to-day has its ground in the failure of religion to meet the demands made upon it for a better world. Men look out on a world seething with unrest and filled with injustice, and they turn upon the Church and ask, "Why have you not changed all this? Are you not, in fact, neglecting your duty in not changing it? Or if you are not neglecting your duty, you must at least confess to your impotence. Your self-confessed business is to make a better world." True; but only on the conditions which love imposes. Religion does not propose to improve the world by a more skilful application of the principles of worldliness. It does not propose to turn stones into bread at the demand of any devils whatsoever. It does not say, "If you will support me and give me a certain superficial honour, I will bless your efforts and increase the success of your undertakings." Religion proposes to improve the world on the condition that the principles of religion shall be accepted as the working principles of life; on condition, that is, that love shall be made the ground of human association. Religion can make a better world, it can make the kingdoms of God and of His Christ; but it can only do so on the condition that it is whole-heartedly accepted and thoroughly applied. The proof that it can do this is in the fact that it can and does make better individuals. Wherever men and women have lived by the principles of the Gospel they have brought forth the fruits of the Gospel. It has done this, not under some specially favourable circumstances, but it has done it under all circumstances of life and in all nations of men. What has been done in unnumbered individual cases, can be done in whole communities when the communities want it done. It is quite pointless in times of great social distress to ask passionately, "why does not God make a better world?" The only question which is at all to the point is, "why has God not made _me_ better?" The problem of God's dealing with the world is, in essence, the problem of God's dealing with me. If He has not reformed me, if I do not, in my self-examination, find that I am responding to the ideals of God, as far as I know them, there is small point in declamations about the state of society. Society that is godless, is just a mass of godless individuals; and I can understand why God does not reform the world perfectly well from the study of my own case. What in me prevents the full control of God is the same that prevents that control over the whole of society: and I know that that is not lack of knowledge, but lack of love. Men ignore the primary obligation of life: "Thou shalt love the Lord thy God ... and thy neighbour as thyself." As long as they ignore that, there can be no reformed world, no world reflecting the divine purpose, no society,--whatever may be its widely multiplied legislation,--securing to men conditions of life which are sane and satisfactory. Therefore the Child who is born of Mary in Bethlehem while the angels are singing their carols over the fields where the shepherds watch, the Child Who brings peace to men of good will, still, after nearly two thousand years, finds His gift ignored and His longing to lift men to God unsatisfied. "He came unto His own and His own received Him not"--and the conditions are not vitally changed to-day. When we think of a world of fifteen hundred million human beings, the number of those who profess and call themselves Christians is comparatively small; the number of actually practicing Christians, of men and women who do live by the Gospel, without reserve and without compromise, is vastly smaller. The resistance of the principles of the Gospel is to-day intense; the demand for compromise is insistent. We are asked to throw over a system which has obviously failed, and to accept as the equivalent and to permit to pass under the same name a system which is fundamentally different; a system whose end is man and not God, whose means are natural and not supernatural, which seek to produce an adjustment with this world that means comfort, rather than an adjustment with the spiritual world which means sanctity. The ideal achievement of peace is here in Bethlehem where the mother holds the Holy Child to her breast, while her spirit is utterly in union with Him Who is both man and God. There is never any break in the pure peace of S. Mary because there is never any moment when her will is separated from the will of God, when her union with Him fails. This peace of perfect union has, through the merits of her Son, been hers always; she has never known the wrench of the will that separates itself from God. She has always been poor; she has been perplexed with life; she has suffered and will suffer intensely, suffer most where she loves most; but peace she has never lost, because her will has never wavered in its allegiance. What visibly she is doing in these moments of her great joy, holding God to her breast in a passion of love, she in fact is doing always--always is she one with God. That undisturbed peace of a never broken union is never possible for us. We have known what it is to reject the will of God and go our own way and indulge the appetites of our nature in violation of our recognised standards of life. If we are to come to peace it must be along the rough road of repentance. And it is wholly just that it should be so; that we should win back to God at the expense of shame and suffering; that we should retrace the road that we have travelled, with weary feet and bleeding heart. This after all does not much matter: what does matter immensely is that there is a road back to God and that we find it. What matters is that we discover that repentance and reformation are the only road to peace. We are offered many other roads alleged to lead to the same place; but not even a child should be deceived by the modern substitutes for repentance, by the shallow teaching whereby it is attempted to persuade men of the innocence of sin. They are never worth discussing, these modern substitutes for repentance. Men accept them, not because they are rational or convincing, but because they offer a justification for going the way that they have already made up their minds to go. But it is plain that whatever else they do they do not afford a basis for peace. They are no rock foundation for eternity. Other foundation for peace can no man lay or has laid than the acceptance of the salvation offered in Jesus Christ. He is our peace; and when we discover that, He makes peace in us by the application to our souls of the Blood of His Cross. This is the peace He came to bring. This the peace that the angels announced as they sang over Bethlehem. This is the peace which is ceaselessly proclaimed from the altars of the Christian Church, the peace of God which passeth understanding, the peace which is offered to all men of good will. How shall we attain it? By being men of good will, plainly. But what constitutes good will in a man? That which I have already discussed, perhaps abundantly, simplicity and childlike obedience of character. S. Joseph, the guardian of Mary and her Child here in Bethlehem, is the best example we can have of a man of good will, a man who under the most difficult circumstances responded with perfect readiness and complete obedience to the heavenly message that came to him. This is to be his course through the few years that he will live, to give himself to the will of God in the care of Jesus. We are men of good will if we do whatsoever our Lord says to us, if we are seeking first of all the Kingdom of God and its righteousness, if our estimate of values corresponds to our Lord's. There is our trouble--that old trouble of feebly trying to live the life of the Kingdom when what we actually want is the offer of this world. There is, there can be, no peace in a divided life. There is a certain spiritual sloth which has the exterior look of peace, as a corpse looks peaceful, but it has no relation to the peace which God gives. It is in fact the wages of sin, wages easily earned and long enjoyed. But so long as we are spiritually alive, so long we cannot enjoy whole-heartedly even the most fascinating of sins because there is lurking in the background the sense of the transitoriness of our sin and of the imminence of death and judgment. There is the skeleton in every man's closet until he finally makes choice on one side or the other. For we are not ignorant of the spiritual obligations of life. We always know more than we have achieved. When we talk about our ignorance and perplexity, we are not meaning ignorance and perplexity about the obligation to live in a certain way, and to perform certain duties, on this particular day: rather we are making this alleged ignorance of the future an excuse for not taking action in the present, action which we know to be obligatory. And peace is so wonderful a gift! To feel oneself in harmony with God, to know that one is carefully seeking His will and making it one's first and highest duty to perform it. To have found the peace of the forgiven soul as the result of absolution, at the expense of much shame and repugnance, it may be, but with what marvellous compensations when we go away with a sense of restored purity and the friendship of God--life looks so different when we look at it through purified eyes! The old life has held us so tightly, the old sins have clung so close; and then there was a day when we gave up self and turned to God and the Gift of God in Jesus Christ; and then we saw how miserable and vile and naked we had been all through the time of our boasted freedom; and we came as children to Mary's Child and offered ourselves to Him for cleansing. We kneel and offer to Him our wills and ask that they may be made good, and kept good in union with His most holy will. Then we find how true this word is: "In Me ye shall have peace: in the world ye shall have tribulation; but be of good cheer, I have overcome the world." It is true, is it not? not only as we commonly interpret, that the disciples of Christ shall have tribulation in this world; but that much that we, giving ourselves to the world, counted joy, was in reality tribulation, and we are glad to be rid of it. A babe is born to bliss us bring. I heard a maid lulley and sing. She said: "Dear Son, leave Thy weeping: Thy, Father is the King of bliss." Now sing we with Angelis: Gloria in excelsis. "Lulley," she said and sung also, "My own dear Son, why are Thou wo? Have I not done as I should do? Now sing we with Angelis: Gloria in excelsis. "Nay, dear mother, for thee weep I nought, But for the woe that shall be wrought To Me ere I mankind have bought. Was never sorrow like it i-wis." Now sing we with Angelis: Gloria in excelsis. "Peace, dear Son! Thou grievest me sore: Thou art my child, I have no more. Should I see men mine own Son slay? Alas, my dear Son, what means all this?" Now sing we with Angelis: Gloria in excelsis. "My hands, Mother, that ye now see, Shall be nailed to a tree; My feet also fast shall be, Men shall weep that shall see this." Now sing we with Angelis: Gloria in excelsis. "Ah, dear Son, hard is my happe To see my child that lay in my lap,-- His hands, His feet that I did wrappe,-- Be so nailed; they never did amisse." Now sing we with Angelis: Gloria in excelsis. "Ah, dear Mother, yet shall a spear My heart asunder all but tear: No wonder if I care-ful were And wept full sore to think on this." Now sing we with Angelis: Gloria in excelsis. PART TWO CHAPTER VIII THE MAGI Now when Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judea in the days of Herod the king, Behold, there came Magi from the East to Jerusalem, Saying, Where is he that is born king of the Jews? S. Matt. II, i. Hail to thee, Mary, the fair dove, which hath borne for us God the Word. We give thee salutation with the Angel Gabriel, saying, Hail, thou that art full of grace; the Lord is with thee. Hail to thee, O Virgin, the very and true Queen; hail, glory of our race. Thou hast borne for us Emmanuel. We pray thee, remember us, O thou our faithful advocate with our Lord Jesus Christ, that He may forgive us our sins. COPTIC. Out of the East, over the desert, we see coming to Bethlehem the train of the star-led Magi. The devout imagination of the Church, dwelling upon the _significance_ rather than the bare historical statements of the Gospel, have seen them as the representatives of the whole Gentile world. We often think of the treatment of the sacred story by the teachers and preachers of the Church as embroidering the original narratives with legendary material. We can look at it in that way; and by so doing, I think, miss the meaning of the facts. What we call ecclesiastical legend will often turn out on examination to be but the unfolding of the meaning of an event in terms of the creative imagination. The object is to present vividly what the event actually means when the meaning is of such widely reaching significance as far to overpass the simple facts. It is thus, I take it, that we must understand the story of the Magi as it takes shape in pious story. That the Magi were kings, and that they were three in number, emphasises the felt importance of their coming to the cradle of our Lord. Actually, they were understood to represent the Gentile world offering its allegiance to our blessed Lord, and therefore they would naturally represent the three branches of the Gentile world as it was understood at the time. The importance of their mission was reflected in the presentation of them as kings--no less persons were required to fill the dignity of the part. There was, too, a whole mass of prophecy to be reckoned with and interpreted in its relation to the event, the most obvious of which was that of Isaiah: "And the Gentiles shall come to thy light, and kings to the brightness of thy rising." The Church story is essentially true, is but a dramatic rendering of the Gospel story. We may however content ourselves with the more simple rendering. We can hardly think of the stable as the setting of the reception of the Eastern Sages. Just when they came we cannot tell; but we seem compelled to put the Epiphany where the Church puts it in her year, somewhere between the Nativity and the Presentation, and the scene of it will still be, the Gospel implies, Bethlehem. "Now when Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judea in the days of Herod the king, Behold, there came Magi from the East to Jerusalem." And at the direction of Herod, and guided by the Star they came to Bethlehem and offered their gifts and their worship. "They saw the young child with Mary his mother, and fell down, and worshipped him: and when they had opened their treasures, they presented unto him gifts; gold, and frankincense, and myrrh." We try to get before us what would have been the mind of S. Mary through all these happenings which attended the birth of her Child. What is written of her here is no doubt characteristic: "Mary kept all these and pondered them in her heart." Wonder at the ways of God had been hers for so many months now--wonder, with devout meditation upon their meaning. Where there is no resistance to God's will but only the desire to know it more fully there is always the gradual assimilation of the truth. S. Mary moves in a realm of mystery from the moment of the Annunciation to the very end of her life. It is so difficult to understand what is the meaning of God in this unspeakable gift of a Son conceived by the power of the Holy Spirit, and in the constant accompaniment of pain and disaster and disappointment which is the unfolding experience of her life in relation to Him. But we feel in her no speculation, no rebellion, no insistence on knowing more; but we feel that there must have been a growing appreciation of the work of God, unhesitating acceptance of His will. Just to keep things in one's heart is so often the best way of arriving at an understanding of them; is the best way, at least, of arriving at the conviction that what we in fact need to understand is not so much what God does as that it is God Who does it. Our true aim in life is to understand God, and through that understanding we shall sufficiently understand life. Failure in human life is commonly due to an attempt to understand life without any attempt to understand it in relation to God. It is like an attempt to understand a work of art without an attempt to understand the artist, to estimate in terms of mechanical effort, rather than in terms of mind. A work of art means what the artist means when he creates it: life means what God means in His creation and government of it, and it is hopeless to expect to understand it without reference to the mind of God. Therefore Mary's way is the right way--the way of acceptance and meditation. So she sought to follow the mind of God. We are told little of her, but we are told quite enough to understand this. We know well her method, that she kept things in her heart. And we have one splendid example of the result of the method in the Magnificat. There the results of her communion with God break forth in that Canticle which ever since has been one of the priceless treasures of the Church. The Gospels never tell us very much; but if we will follow Mary's method they tell us enough to let us see the very hand of God in the working out of our salvation; they give us sample events from which we easily infer God's meaning otherwhere. And we may be sure that the months that followed the Annunciation would have been months of ever-deepening spiritual communion, resulting in a rapidly advancing spiritual maturity. One necessary result would have been to prepare the blessed Mother to receive new manifestations of God's Providence, and to fit them into the whole body of her experience. She would not at any time be lost in helpless surprise before a new development of the purpose of God. Surprised as she must have been when the Eastern Sages came to kneel before the Child she carried at her breast, and hail Him as born King of the Jews, she would have set to work to fit this new experience into what her acquired knowledge of the divine meaning had become. And one can have no doubt that these visitors from afar would have told her enough of the grounds of their action to illumine for her the prophecies concerning her Son. The special incidents that the Gospel select for record leave us always conscious that they _are_ a selection and therefore must have special significance. That we are told that the Magi offered certain gifts, rather than told the words of homage wherewith they presented them turns our attention to the nature of the gifts as presumably having a significance in themselves rather than because of any actual value. In the gifts of these Gentiles come from afar to kneel before Him Whom they recognise as King of the Jews, we are compelled to see a certain attitude of humanity toward Him Who is revealed to be not only the King of the Jews, but Lord of Heaven and earth; they give what humanity needs must always give--the gold of a perfect oblation, the incense of perpetual intercession, the myrrh of a humble self-abandonment. These which are offered as the ideal tribute of humanity by the star-led Magi are found in their highest human perfection exemplified in the Mother of the Child to Whom the tribute is made. Perfect are they in our Lord; and she who is nearest Him in nature is nearest Him in the perfection of nature. We turn from God's ideal as set out in our blessed Lord to see it reflected as in a glass in the life of her whose perfection is the perfect rendering of His grace. Mary is so perfect because, by God's election, she is "full of grace." We, alas! limp after the ideal at a long distance. One pictures the life of sanctity under the familiar symbol of the race course, where many start in the race, and many, one by one, fall out by the wayside. Those who go on the race's end, go on because of certain qualities of endurance that we discover in them. In those who run the spiritual race for the amaranthine crown these qualities of endurance are not natural, but supernatural: they come not of birth but of rebirth. They are qualities which we draw from God. "It is not of him that willeth, nor of him that runneth, but of God that showeth mercy." The hand that sets the race confers the gifts that enable one to win it. "So run that ye may obtain." And perhaps the chiefest of all those gifts is that which makes us, the children of God, capable of the adoration of our Father. Worship is no other than the utter giving of ourselves, giving as Christ gave, "Who being originally in the form of God, thought it not a thing to be grasped at to be equal with God, but emptied Himself, and took upon Him the form of a servant, and was made in the likeness of men"; giving as the blessed Virgin gave when she gave, as she must have thought and have been willing to give, her whole reputation among men in response to the call of God; giving complete, in which there is no withholding. That is worship, sacrifice, the pure gold of self-oblation. But it is possible to think of the power of worship from another point of view. God never takes but He gives. What He appears to take He gives back with His blessing, and we find the restored gift multiplied manifold. So in the very act of our worship God confers on us power. For it is true, is it not, that in the very act of worship we experience, not exhaustion but exhilaration. In the very act of giving ourselves to God, God gives Himself to us, and in overflowing abundance. That is what we find to be true in our highest act of worship, the blessed Eucharist. Here God and man meet in a perfect communion. Here we offer ourselves in sacrifice--ourselves, our souls and bodies--in union with the sacrifice of our Lord; and here our Lord, Who is the sacrifice itself, not only offers Himself, but also He imparts Himself to those who are united with Him. And out of this sacrifice, thus issuing in an act of union, there flows the perpetual renewing of the vitality of the spiritual life. We are sustained from day to day by this sacrificial feeding; our strength which is continually being drawn upon by the demands of life, by the temptations we have to resist, by the exertion that is called for in all spiritual exercise, is renewed by our participation in the Body and Blood of our Lord. I am sure that all those who are accustomed to frequent communion feel the drain upon their strength when at any time they are deprived of their great privilege. I am also sure that many who feel that their spiritual life is but languid, or those other many who seem only dimly to feel that there are spiritual problems to be met, and spiritual strength needed for the meeting of them, would find themselves immensely helped, would find their minds illumined and their strength sustained in more frequent participation in the sacrificial worship and feasting of the Church. The attitude of vast numbers of those who are regarded as quite sincere Christians is wholly incomprehensible. The life of God is day by day poured out at the altars of the Church, and they go their way in seeming unconsciousness of its presence, of its appeal, of its virtue, or of their own sore need of it. The Magi come from a far distance on a hazardous journey into an unknown country that they may offer the gold of their adoration to an infant King; and the Christian feebly considers whether he is not too tired to get up of a morning and go a short distance to receive the Body and Blood of the Redeemer of his soul! The Magi came also bringing the incense of their intercession. Their privilege was that they were admitted to the very Presence Chamber of the great King. That the Infant in Mary's arms did not show any sign of kingship, the humble room where they were received bore no resemblance to the presence chamber of such kings as they were accustomed to wait upon, was to them of no consequence. They were endowed with the gift of faith, and believed the supernatural guiding rather than the outward seeming. The faith that had followed the star from so great a distance was not likely to be quenched by the antithesis of what must have been their imagination of the reality, of all the pictures that had been filling their minds as they pushed on across the desert. It was no more incredible that the King Whom they were seeking should be found in humble guise in a peasant's cottage than that they should have been guided to Him by a heavenly star. The gift of God to them was that they should be permitted to enter the presence of the King. This right of admission to the divine Presence is the precious gift of God to us. Since the heavens received the ascending Lord the Kingdom of heaven has been open to all believers. Prayer is a very simple and common thing in our experience; and yet when we try to think out its implications we are overwhelmed with the wonder of it. It implies a God Who waits upon our pleasure: it reveals to us a Father Who is ever ready to listen to the voice of His children. No broken hearted sinner, overwhelmed with the conviction of his vileness, cries out in the agony of his repentance but God is ready to hear. "He is more ready to hear than we to pray." No man pours out his thanksgivings for the abundant blessings he discovers in his life but the heart of God is glad in his gladness. No child kneels at night to repeat his simple prayer but God bends over him and blesses him. The wonder of it is summed up in our Lord's words: "The Father Himself loveth you," which are as an open door into the inner sanctuary, an invitation to enter to those who are hesitating on the threshold of the Holy of Holies. And there is no danger of tiring God: we come ceaselessly, endlessly. The cries of earth go up to Him, pitiful, ignorant, foolish cries; but they find God ready to hear and answer, fortunately not according to our ignorance but according to His great mercy. We think of the clouds of prayer in all ages, from all nations, in all tongues, and the very vastness of them gives us an index of the divine love. And it is not simply for ourselves that we pray, nor do we pray by ourselves; it is of God's love that in the work of prayer we are associated with one another. There is nothing further from the divine plan of life than our present individualism. Our temptation is to be egotistic and self-centred; to want to approach God alone with our private needs and wishes. We incline to travel the spiritual way by ourselves; we want no company; we want no one between our souls and God. But that precisely is not the divine method. We come to God through Christ; we come in association with the members of the Body. Our standing as Christians before Him is dependent upon our corporate relation to one another in His Son. Important issues are involved. We attain through this associated life of the Christian the power of mutual intercession. We find that it is our privilege to share our prayers with others, and to be interested in one another's lives. We have common interests and we work them out in common. Therefore when we try to put before us an ideal picture of the power of prayer, it will not be the solitary individual offering his personal supplications to the Father, but it will be the community of the faithful assembled for the offering of the divine Sacrifice. It is the praying Body that best satisfies our ideal of prayer, where we are conscious of helping one another in the work of intercession. We remember, too, when we think of prayer as prayer of the Body of Christ, that it is not just the visible congregation that is participating in it, but that all the Body share in the intercessions, wherever they may individually be. Our thoughts go up from the little assembly in the humble church and lose themselves in the splendour of the heavenly intercession where we are associated with prophets and apostles and martyrs, and with Mary the Mother of God. There was a third gift that the Magi brought to Him Whom they hailed King, a gift that is more perplexing as a gift to royalty than the other two. That gold and incense should be offered a King is clearly His royal right; but what has he to do with the bitterness of myrrh? But to this King myrrh is a peculiarly appropriate gift, for it is the symbol of complete self-abandonment. He who came to do not His own will but the will of Him that sent Him; Who laid aside the robes of His glory, issuing from the uncreated light that He might clothe Himself with the humility of the flesh, is properly honoured with the gift of myrrh. And as it was the symbol of His humility, so is it the symbol of our humanity in relation to Him. It suggests to us that uttermost of Christian virtues, the virtue of entire abandonment to the will of God. This is a most difficult virtue to acquire. We cling to self. We are devoted to our own wills. We rely on our own judgment and wisdom. We are impatient of all that gets in the way of our self-determination. We have in these last days made a veritable religion out of devotion to self, a cult of the ego. But he who will enter into the sanctuary of the divine life, he who will seek union with God, he who will be one with the Father in the Son, must abandon self. He must lose his life in order to save it. He must let go the world to cling to the Lord of life. This will of the man which is so insistent, so persistent, so assertive, so tenacious, must be laid aside and the Will of Another adopted in its place. Often this is bitter. Very true of us it is that when we were young we girded ourselves and walked whither we would; but it must be in the end, if we make life a spiritual success, that when we are old another shall gird us and carry us whither we would not. The secret of life is found when the bitterness of myrrh is turned to sweetness in the discovery that the outcome of the sacrificial life is not that it be narrowed but enlarged; and that for the life which we have entrusted to Him God will do more than we ask or think. When our will becomes one with the will of God we are surprised to find that we have ceased to think of what we once called our sacrifices, because life in Christ reveals itself to us as of infinite joy and richness, so that we forget the things that are behind and gladly press on. Queen of heaven, blessed may thou be For Godes Son born He was of thee, For to make us free. Gloria Tibi, Domine. Jesu, Godes Son, born He was In a crib with hay and grass, And died for us upon the cross. Gloria Tibi, Dominie. To our Lady make we our moan, That she may pray to her dear Son, That we may to His bliss come. Gloria Tibi, Dominie. Sixteenth Century. PART TWO CHAPTER IX THE PRESENTATION And when the days of her purification according to the law of Moses were accomplished, they brought him to Jerusalem, to present him to the Lord. S. Luke II. 22. O come let us worship the Holy Trinity, the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost,--we the Christian nations, for He is our true God. And we hope in Holy Mary, that God will have mercy upon us through her prayers. Hail to thee, Mary, the fair dove, who hath borne for us God the Word. COPTIC The reading of a story in the Gospels is often like looking through a window down some long arcade; there is in the foreground the group of actors in whom we are presently interested, and beyond them is the whole background of contemporary life to which they belong, of which they are a part. If we have time to think out the meaning of this surrounding life we gain added insight into the meaning of our principal characters. It is so now as we watch this group of humble peasant folk coming up to the temple to fulfil the demands of the law of Moses. In the precincts of the temple they are merged in a larger group whose interests are clearly identical with their own, and whom we easily see to be the local representatives of a party--the name, no doubt, suggests an organisation which they had not--scattered throughout Judea. Their interest was the redemption of Israel. They were the true heirs of the prophets, and among them the prophecies which concerned the Lord's Christ were the subject of constant study and meditation. Amid the movements and intrigues of political and religious parties, they abode quietly in the temple, as Simeon and Anna, or in their homes, as Zacharias and Elizabeth, _waiting_. Their power was the silent power of sanctity, the power that flows from lives steeped in meditation and prayer. They constitute that remnant which is the depository of the hopes of Israel and the saving salt which prevents the utter putrefaction of the body of the nation. We cannot for a moment doubt that Mary and Joseph were of this remnant, and that they were in complete sympathy with those whom they found here in the temple when the Child Jesus was brought in "to do for him after the custom of the law." The actual ceremony of the purification was soon over, the demands of the law satisfied. Neither Jesus nor Mary had any inner need of these observances; their value in their case was that by submission to them they associated themselves closely with their brethren, our Lord thus continuing that divine self-emptying which he had begun at the Incarnation. We are impressed with the completeness of this stooping of God when we see the offering that Mary brings, "A pair of turtle doves," the offering of the very poor. Our Lord has accepted life on its lowest economic terms in order that nothing in His mission shall flow from adventitious aids. He must owe all in the accomplishment of His work to the Father Who gave it Him to do. It will be the essence of the temptation that He must soon undergo that He shall consent to call to His aid earthly and material supports and base His hopes of success on something other than God. Accidentally, there is this further demonstration contained in the poverty of the Holy Family, that, namely, the completest spiritual privilege, the fullest spiritual development, is independent of "possessions." It is no doubt true that "great possessions" do not of necessity create a bar in all cases to spiritual accomplishment; but to many of us it is a consolation to know that the completest sanctity humanity has known has been wrought out in utter poverty of life. We shall have occasion to speak more of this later; we now only note the fact that those whom we meet in the pages of the New Testament as waiting hopefully for the redemption of Israel are waiting in poverty and hard work. What we find in S. Mary as she passes through the ceremony of her purification from a child-bearing which had in no circumstance of it anything impure, is the spirit of sacrifice which submission to the law implies. She has caught the spirit of her Son, the spirit of selfless offering to the will of God. It is the central accomplishment of the life of sanctity. The life of sanctity must be wrought out from the centre, from our contact with God. No one becomes holy by works, whatever may be the nature of the works. Works, the external life, are the expression of what we are, they are the externalization of our character. If they be not the expression of a life hid with Christ in God they can have no spiritual value, whatever may be their social value. The kind of works which "are done to be seen of men" "have their reward," that is, the sort of reward they seek, human approval; they have no value in the realm of the spirit. But the life that is lived as sacrifice, as a thing perfectly offered to God, is a life growing up in God day by day. It is our Lord's life, summed up from this point of view in the "I come to do thy will, O God." Its most perfect reflection is caught by blessed Mary with her acceptance of God's will: "Behold, the handmaid of the Lord." But it is the life expression of all sanctity; for the saint is such chiefly by virtue of his sacrificial attitude. It is the completest account of the life of sanctity that it "leaves all" to follow a divine call. It is the response of the Apostles who, as James and John, leave their father Zebedee and the boats and the nets and the hired servants, to follow Jesus. It is the answer of Matthew who rises from the receipt of custom at the Master's word. It is the answer of all saints in all times. Sanctity means the abandonment of all for Christ: it means the embracing of the poverty of Jesus and Mary. Is sanctity then, or the possibility of it, shut within the narrow limits of a poor life? Well, even if it were, the limits would not be so very narrow. By far the greater part of the human race at any time has been poor, as poor as the Holy Family. Unfortunately, Christianity is forgetting its vocation of poverty and becoming a matter of well-to-do-ness. But we need not forget that the poor are the majority. However, the fact is not that economical poverty is automatically productive of spirituality, but that accepted and offered poverty is the road to the heart of God. It is not denied that the rich man may consecrate and offer his goods to God and make them instruments of God's service; but in the process he runs great risk of deceiving himself and of attempting to deceive God--the risk of quietly substituting for the spirit of sacrifice the spirit of commercial bargaining, and attempting to buy the favour of God, and of ransoming his great possessions by a well-calculated tribute. It is not so much our possessions as the way we hold them that is in question; it is a question whether the inner motive of our life is the will to sacrifice or the will to be rich. "They that desire to be rich fall into temptation and a snare, and into many foolish and hurtful lusts which drown men in destruction and perdition," These dangers S. Paul noted as the besetting dangers of riches are counteracted by the possession of the spirit of sacrifice which holds all things at the disposal of God, and views life as opportunity for the service of God. And in so estimating life, we must remember that money is not the only thing that human beings possess. As I pointed out the vast majority of the human race have no money: it by no means follows that they have no capacity or field for the exercise of the spirit of sacrifice. There is, for instance, an abundant opportunity for the exercise of that spirit in the glad acceptance of the narrow lot that may be ours. Probably many, indeed most, poor are only economically poor; they fall under S. Paul's criticism in that "they desire to be rich," and are therefore devoid of the spirit of sacrifice that would transform their actual poverty into a spiritual value. But all the powers and energies of life do in fact constitute life's capital. A poor boy has great possessions in the gifts of nature that God has granted him. He may use this capital as he will. He may be governed by "the desire to be rich," or by the desire to consecrate himself to the will and service of God--and the working out of life will be accordingly. He may become very rich economically, or he may devote his life to the service of his fellows as physician, teacher, missionary, or in numberless other paths. Once more, the meaning of life is in its voluntary direction, and whatever may be his economic state, he may, if he will, be "rich toward God." If what we are seeking is to follow the Gospel-life, if we are seeking to express toward man the spirit of the Master, we find abundant field for the exercise of this spirit of sacrifice in our daily relations with others. S. Paul's rule of life: "Look not every man to his own things, but every man also to the things of others," is the practical rule of the sacrificed will. It seeks to fulfil the service of the Master by taking the spirit of the Master--His helpfulness, His consideration, His sympathy--with one into the detail of the day's work. It is one of the peculiarities of human nature that it finds it quite possible to work itself up to an occasional accomplishment, especially in a spectacular setting, of spiritual works, which it finds itself quite impotent to do under the commonplace routine of life. The race experience is accurately enough summed up in the cynical proverb: "No man is a hero to his valet." It expresses the fact that in ordinary circumstances, and under commonplace temptations, we do not succeed in holding life to the accomplishment which is ours when we are, as it were, on dress parade. In other words, we respond to the opinions we desire to create in others; and the spirit of sanctity is a response not to public opinion, but to the mind and thought of God. When we seek the mind of Christ, and seek to reproduce that mind in our own lives, seek to be possessed by it, then we shall gladly render back to God all life's riches which we have received from Him, and acknowledge in the true spirit of poverty that "all things come of Thee, O Lord, and of Thine own have we given Thee." The world has got into a very ill way of thinking of God as _force_. Force seems in the popular mind to be the synonym of _power_. The only power that we understand is the power that _compels_, that secures the execution of its will by physical or moral constraint. With this conception of power in mind men are continually asking: "Why does not God do this or that? If he be God and wills goodness, why does He not execute goodness, use power to accomplish it?" It ought to be unnecessary to point out that such a conception of power is quite foreign to the Christian conception of God. Goodness that is compulsory is not goodness. Human legislation, in its enforcement of law, looks not to the production of goodness but to the production of order, a quite different thing. But God's heart is set upon the sanctification of His children and is satisfied with nothing less than that. "This is the will of God, even your sanctification." But sanctification cannot be compelled. The divine method is, that "when the fulness of time was come, God sent forth His Son, born of a woman, born under the law, to redeem them that were under the law, that we might receive the adoption of sons. And because ye are sons, God sent forth the Spirit of His Son into your hearts, crying, Abba, Father." Through this method we "were reconciled to God by the death of His Son." The result is not that we are compelled to obey, but that "the love of Christ constraineth us." The account of the apostolic authority is not that it is a commission to rule the universal Church, but "now then we are ambassadors for Christ, as though God did beseech you by us; we pray you in Christ's stead, be ye reconciled to God." The study of this divine method should put us on the right track in the attempt to estimate the nature of sanctity and the results we may expect from it. We shall expect nothing of spiritual value from force. We shall be quite prepared to turn away from the governing parties in Jerusalem as from those who have repudiated the divine method and are therefore useless for the divine ends. We shall turn rather to those who gather about the temple and there, in a life of prayer and meditation, wait for the redemption. It is to these, who are the real temple of the Lord, that the Lord "shall come suddenly," that the manifestation of God will be made. And their hearts will overflow with joy as they behold the fulfilment of the promises of God. The power of God is the power of love; and it is that love, and that love alone, that has won the victories of God. It is a very slow method, men say. No doubt. But it is the only method that has any success. The method of force seems effective; but its triumphs are illusory. Force cannot make men love, it can only make them hate. The world is being won to God by the love of God manifested in Christ Jesus our Lord. And it is as well to remember, when we are tempted to complain of the slowness of the process, that the slowness is ours, not God's. The process is slow because men will not consent to become the instruments of God's love for the world, will not transmit the crucified love of God's Son to their fellows. They continually, in their impatience, revert to force of some sort, for the attainment of spiritual ends. They become the tools of all sorts of secular ambitions which promise support in return for their co-operation. And the result may be read by any one not blinded by prejudice in the futility and incompetence of modern religions of all sorts. It is seen perhaps most of all in the pride of opinion which keeps the Christian world in a fragmentary condition, and which approaches the undoing of the sin of a divided Christendom with the preliminary announcement that no separated body must be required to admit that it has been in the wrong. Human disregard of the divine method of love and humility can hardly go farther; and the only practical result that can be expected to follow is such as followed from the negotiations of Herod and Pontius Pilate--a new Crucifixion of the Ever-sacrificed Christ. We have risen to the divine method when we have learned to rely for spiritual results upon God alone. Then is revealed to us the power of sanctity. We turn over the pages of the lives of the saints, of those who have been great in the Kingdom of God, and we are struck by the growing influence of these men and women. They are simple men and women whose life's energy is concentrated on some special work; they are confessors or directors; they work among the very poor; they lead lives of retirement in Religious Houses; they are preachers of the Gospel; they are missionaries. The one thing that they appear to have in common is utter consecration to the work in hand. And we see, it may be with some wonder, that as they become more and more absorbed in their special work, they become more and more centres of influence. Without at all willing it they draw people about them, become centres of influences, arouse interest, become widely known. In short, they are, without willing it, centres of energy. Of what energy? Obviously, of the energy of love: the love of God manifested in them draws men to God. The man at whose disposal is unlimited force compels men to do his will; but he draws no one to him except the hypocrite and the sycophant who expect to gain something by their servility. The saint draws men, not to himself, but to God; for obviously it is not his power but God's power that is being manifested through him. Unless we are very unfortunate we all know people whose attractiveness is the attractiveness of simple goodness. They are not learned nor influential nor witty nor clever, but we like to be with them. When we are asked why, we can only explain it by the attractiveness of their Christlikeness. What we gain from intercourse with them is spiritual insight and power. Their influence might be described as sacramental: they are means our Blessed Lord uses to impart Himself. They are so filled with the mind of Christ that they easily show Him to the world; and withal, quite unconsciously. For great love is possible only where there is great humility. And this power of sanctity which is the outcome of union with God is a permanent acquisition to the Kingdom of God. God's Kingdom is ultimately a Kingdom of saints. The sphere of God's self-manifestation in human life increases ever as the saints increase; and the power of sanctity necessarily remains while the saint remains, that is, forever. The saint remains a permanent organ of the Body of Christ, a perdurable instrument of the divine love. To speak humanly, the more saints there are, the more the love of God can manifest itself; the wider its influence on humanity. And the greater the Saint, that is, the nearer the Saint approaches the perfection of God, to which he is called--Be ye therefore perfect, as your Father in heaven is perfect--the more influential he must be; that is the more perfectly he will show the divine likeness and transmit the divine influence. When we think of the power of the saints as intercessors that is what actually we are thinking of,--the perfection of their understanding of the mind of Christ. But to return to this world and to the gathering in the temple on the day of the Purification. These are they in whom the hope of Israel rests. Israel is not a failure because it has brought forth these. God's work through the centuries has not come to naught because in these there is the possibility of a new beginning. The consummate flower of Israel's life is the Blessed Mother through whom God becomes man; and these who meet her in the temple are the representatives of those hidden ones in Israel who will be the field wherein the seed of the Word can be sown and where it will bring forth fruit an hundredfold. Jesus, this Child, is God made man; and these around Him to-day, Mary and Joseph, Simeon and Anna, are those who will receive His love and will show its power in the universe forever. And so it will remain always; the good ground wherein the seed may be sown and bring forth unto eternal life is the spiritual nature of man, made ready by humility and love,--"In quietness and confidence shall be your strength." In the quietness that waits for God to act, the confidence that knows that He will act when the time comes. It is well if our aspiration is to be of the number of those who live lives hid with Christ in God; who are seeking nothing but that the love of God may be shed abroad in their hearts; who are "constrained" by nothing but the love of Jesus. It is true that this simplicity of motive and aim will bring it about that our lives will be hidden lives, lives of which the world will take no note. We may be quite sure that none of the rulers of Israel thought much about old Simeon who passed his time praying in the temple. And if we want to be known of rulers it is doubtless a mistake to take the road that Simeon followed. But the reward of that way was that he saw "the Lord's Christ," that it was permitted him to take in his arms Incarnate God, and then, in his rapture, to sing _Nunc Dimittis_. We cannot travel two roads at once. When the Holy Family goes out from the temple it can go, if it will, to the palace of Herod, or it can go back to Bethlehem. It cannot go both ways and we know the way that it took. And we in our self-examination to-night can see two roads stretching out before us. We can go the way of the world, the way that seeks (whether it finds or no) popularity and prominence, or we can join the Holy Family and in company with Jesus and Mary and Joseph go back to the quietness and hiddenness of the House of Bread where the saints dwell. With them, sheltered by the Sacrifice of Jesus and the prayers of Mary and Joseph we can wait for the Redemption in the full manifestation of the life of God in us, and for the time when the love of God shall be fully "shed abroad in our hearts by the Holy Ghost which is given us." O Sion, ope thy temple-gates; See, Christ, the Priest and Victim, waits-- Let lifeless shadows flee: No more to heaven shall vainly rise The ancient rites--a sacrifice All pure and perfect, see. Behold, the Maiden knowing well The hidden Godhead that doth dwell In him her infant Son: And with her Infant, see her bring The doves, the humble offering For Christ, the Holy One. Here, all who for his coming sighed Behold him, and are satisfied-- Their faith the prize hath won: While Mary, in her breast conceals The holy joys her Lord reveals, And ponders them alone. Come, let us tune our hearts to sing The glory of our God and King, The blessed One and Three: Be everlasting praise and love To him who reigns in heaven above, Through all eternity. PART TWO CHAPTER X EGYPT The angel of the Lord appeareth to Joseph in a dream, saying, Arise, and take the young child and his mother, and flee into Egypt. S. Matt. II, 13. Deliver us, we beseech Thee, O Lord, from all evils past, present, and to come: and at the intercession for us of Blessed Mary who brought forth God and our Lord, Jesus Christ; and of the holy apostles Peter, and Paul, and Andrew; and of blessed Ambrose Thy confessor, and bishop, together with all Thy saints, favorably give peace in our days, that, assisted by the help of Thy mercy, we may ever be both delivered from sin, and safe from all turmoil. Fulfil this, by Him, with Whom Thou livest blessed, and reignest God, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, for ever and ever. AMBROSIAN. Those who live in intimate union with God, the peace of whose lives is untroubled by the constant irruption of sin, are peculiarly sensitive to that mode of the divine action that we call supernatural. I suppose that it is not that God wishes to reveal Himself to souls only at crises of their experience or under exceptional conditions, but that only souls of an exceptional spiritual sensitivity are capable of this sort of approach. Communications of the divine will through dream or vision of inner voice are the accompaniment of sanctity; one may almost say that they are the normal means in the case of advanced sanctity. Most of us are too much immersed in the world, are too much the slaves of material things, to be open to this still, small voice of revelation. Our eyes are dimned by the garish light of the world, and our ears dulled by its clamour, so that our powers of spiritual perception are of the slightest. This is quite intelligible; and we ought not to fall into the mistake of assuming that our undeveloped spirituality is normal, and that what does not happen to us is inconceivable as having happened at all. If we want to know the truth about spiritual phenomena we shall put ourselves to school to those whose spiritual natures have attained the highest development and in whose experience spiritual phenomena are of almost daily happening. To the man "whose talk is of oxen," whose whole life is absorbed in the study of material things, a purely spiritual manifestation comes as a surprise. His instinctive impulse is to deny its reality as a thing obviously impertinent to his understanding of life. But one whose life is based on spiritual postulates, who is, however feebly, attempting to shape life in accordance with spiritual principles, though he may never have attained anything that can be interpreted as a distinct revelation from God by vision or voice or otherwise, yet must he by the very basic assumptions of his life be ready to regard such manifestations of God as intelligible, and indeed to be expected. So far from regarding divine interventions in life as impossible, we shall regard the Christian life which has no experience of them as abnormal, as not having realised its inheritance. The degree and kind of such intervention in life will vary; but it is the fact of the intervention that is important: the mode in a special case will be determined by the needs of that case. As we think along these lines we reach the conclusion that what we call the supernatural is not the unnatural or the abnormal, but is a higher mode of the natural. We are not surprised therefore to find that those whose spiritual development was such as to make it possible for God to choose them to fulfil special offices in relation to the Incarnation; who could be chosen to be, in the one case, the Mother of God-incarnate, and in the other, to be the guardian of the divine Child and His Blessed Mother, have the divine will in regard to the details of the trust committed to them, imparted to them in vision and in dream. So far from such vision and dream suggesting to us "a mythical element" in the Gospel narratives, they rather confirm our faith in that they harmonize with our instinctive conclusions as to what would be natural under the circumstances. We are prepared to be told that at this crisis in the Holy Child's life "the angel of the Lord appeareth to Joseph in a dream, saying, Arise, and take the young child and his mother, and flee into Egypt, and be thou there until I bring thee word; for Herod will seek the young child to destroy him. When he arose, he took the young child and his mother by night, and departed into Egypt." Thus early in our Lord's life is the element of tragedy introduced. The Incarnation of God stirs the diabolic powers, the rulers of "this darkness" to excited activity. The companion picture of the Nativity, of the Holy Child lying in Mary's arms, of the wondering shepherds, of the Magi from a far country,--the shadow of all this idyllic beauty is the massacre of the Innocents, the wailing of Rachel for her children. It is, as it were, the opening of a new stage in the world-old conflict where the powers of evil appear to have the advantage and can show the bodies of murdered infants as the trophies of their victory. But are we to think of the death of a child as a disaster? Has any actual victory redounded to the Prince of Power of the Air? One understands of course the grief and sense of loss that attends the death of any child, the breaking of the dreams which had gathered about its future. What the father and the mother dreamed over the cradle and planned for the future does not come to pass--all that is true. But in a consideration of the broader interests involved, does not the death of a baby have a meaning far deeper than a disappointment of hopes and dreams? It is true, is it not? that the coming of the child brought enrichment into the life of its parents? There was a new love born for this one child which is not the common property of all the children of the family, but is the peculiar possession of this child and its parents. Life--the life of the parents--is better and nobler by virtue of this love. They understand this, because when they stand by the side of the child's coffin they never feel that it had been better that this child had not come into existence. And more than that: as they commit this fragile body to the grave they know that there is no real sense in which they can say that they have lost this child. Rather, the child is a perpetual treasure, for the moment contemplated through tears, but presently to be thought of with unclouded joy. It is so wonderful a thing to think of this pure soul caught back to God; to think of it growing to spiritual maturity in God's very presence; to think of it following the Lamb withersoever He goeth. Yes: to think of it also as our child still, with our love in its heart, knowing that it has a father and a mother on earth, and, that, just because of its early death, it can be to them, what otherwise they would have been to it--the guard and helper of their Jives. In God's presence are the souls of children as perpetual intercessors for those whom they have left on earth; and they may well rejoice before God in that what appeared the tragedy of their death was in fact a recall from the field of battle before the testing of their life was made. We wept as over an irreparable loss, While into nothingness crept back a host Of shadows unexplored, of sins unsinned. The artists have imagined the souls of those who first died for Jesus attending Him on the way to Egypt as a celestial guard. In any case we are certain that the angels who watched about Him so closely all His life were with the Holy Family as they set out upon the way of exile. It would have been a wearisome march but that Jesus was there. His presence lightened all the toils of the desert way. Egypt, their place of refuge, would not have seemed to them what it seems to us, a land of wonder, of marvellous creations of human skill and intelligence, but a place of banishment from all that was dear, from the ties of home and religion. The religion which lay wrapped in the Holy Child was to break down barriers and hindrances to the worship of God; but the time was not yet. For them still the Holy Land, Jerusalem, the Temple, were the place of God's manifestation, and all else the dwelling place of idols. They must have shuddered in abhorrence at those strange forms of gods which rose about them on every hand. We cannot ourselves fail to draw the contrast between the statues which filled the Egyptian sanctuaries and before which all Egypt, rich and poor, mighty and humble, prostrated themselves, and this Child sleeping on Mary's breast. The imagination of the Christian community later caught this contrast and embodied it in the legend that when Jesus crossed the border of Egypt, all the idols of the land of Egypt fell down. We cannot follow the thought of the Blessed Mother through these strange scenes and the experiences of these days. No doubt in the Jewish communities already flourishing in Egypt there would be welcome and the means of livelihood. But there would be perplexing questions to one whose habit it was to keep all things which concerned her strange Child hidden in her heart, the subject of constant meditation. Why, after the divine action which had been so constant from His conception to His birth, and in the circumstances which attended His birth, this reversal, this defeat and flight? Why after Bethlehem, Egypt? Why after Gabriel, Herod? It brings us back again to the primary fact that the Incarnation is essentially a stage in a battle, and that the nature of God's battles is such that He constantly appears to lose them. He "goes forth as a giant to run His course"; but the eyes of man cannot see the giant--they see only a Babe laid in a manger. We are tricked by our notion of what is powerful. "They all were looking for a king To slay their foes and lift them high; Thou cam'st, a little baby thing That made a woman cry." The battle presents itself to us as a demand that we choose, that we take sides. The demand of Christ is that we associate ourselves with Him, or that we define our position as on the other side. "The friendship of the world is enmity with God" is a saying that is true when reversed: The friendship of God is enmity with the world. An open disclosure of the friendship of God sets all the powers of the world against us. This may be uncomfortable; but there does not appear to be any way of avoiding the opposition. Our Lord, in His Incarnation, not only stripped Himself of His glory, took the servant form, and in doing so deliberately deprived Himself of certain means which would have been vastly influential in dealing with men, but He also declined, in assuming human nature, to assume it under conditions which would have conferred upon Him any adventitious advantage in the prosecution of His work. He would display to men neither divine nor human glory: He would have no aid from power or position, from wealth or learning. He undertook His work in the strength of a pure humanity united with God. He declined all else. And He found that almost the first event of His life was to be driven into exile. And they who are associated with Him necessarily share His fortunes. Unless they will abandon the Child, Mary and Joseph must set out on the desert way. They had no doubt much to learn; but what is important is not the size or amount of what we learn, but the learning of it. When we are called, as they were, to leave all for Christ, it often turns out as hard, oftentimes harder, to leave property as riches; and the reason is that what we ultimately are leaving is neither poverty nor riches, but self: and self to us is always a "great possession." Therein, I suppose, lies the solution of the problem of the relation of property and Christianity in the common life. Idleness is sin; every one is bound to some useful labour, no matter what his material resources may be. And if we work for our living, if our labour is to be such as will support us, then there at once arises the problem of possessions. Useful, steady labour will ordinarily produce more than "food and raiment." Under present social arrangments accumulated property is handed on to heirs. A man naturally wants to make some provision for his family. Or he finds himself in possession of considerable wealth and the impulse is to spend in luxuries of one sort or another,--modern invention has put endless means of ministering to physical or aesthetic comfort within his reach. He can have a motor car, a country house, an expensive library; he can have beautiful works of art. And then he is confronted with the picture of the Holy Family which can never have lived much beyond the poverty line. He realises the nature of our Lord's life of poverty and ministry. And though the plain man may not feel that he can go very far in imitating this life, he does feel that there is a splendour of achievement in those who take our Lord at His word and sell all to follow Him. But the literal abandonment of life to the ideal of poverty is clearly not what our Lord contemplated for the universal practice of His followers. He nowhere indicates that all gainful labour is to be abandoned, or that having gained enough for food and raiment we are to idle thereafter, or even give ourselves to some ungainful work. The Kingdom of heaven does not appear to be society organised on the lines of socialism or otherwise. Our Lord contemplated life going on as it is, only governed by a new set of motives. It has as the result of the acceptance of the Gospel a new Orientation; and as a result of that it will view "possessions" in a new way. The acceptance of the Gospel means the self surrendered utterly to the will of God, and all that self possesses held at the disposal of that will. We may expect that God's will for us will be manifested in the events of life and its opportunities, and we shall hold ourselves alert and ready to embrace that will. It may be that the call will come to sell all, and we need to beware lest the thoroughness of the demand terrify us into the repudiation of our Lord's service; lest the thought of the sacrificed possessions send us away sorrowing. Ordinarily the call is less searching than that; or perhaps the mercy of God spares us from demands that would be beyond our strength. In any case, the truly consecrated self will regard luxury as a dangerous thing, replete with entanglements of all kinds, that it were well to avoid at the expense of any sacrifice. One does well to hold "possessions" in a very loose grip, lest the hold be reversed, and we become their servants rather than they ours. And it is well to emphasise again that the mere size of possessions is of small importance. There is a not very rational tendency to think of this as being a matter of millions, for the man of moderate income to think that there is no problem for him. The problem is as pressing for him as for any man. His minimum of comfort may be as tightly grasped as the other man's maximum. The only solution of the problem will be found in the converted self. Those who have really given themselves to God hold all things at His disposal. They are not thinking how they can indulge self but how they can glorify God. Egypt to many will stand for another sort of abandonment which much perplexes the immature Christian: that is, the sort of isolation in which the new Christian is quite likely to find himself when first he attempts to put Christian principles into practice. We imagine one brought up in the ordinary mixed circles of society, where there are unbelievers and lax Christians mingled together, and where there are no principles firmly enough held to interfere with any sort of enjoyment of life which offers. Such an one--a young woman, let us suppose--in the Providence of God becomes converted to our Lord, and comes to see that the lax and indifferent Christian life she had been leading was a mere mockery of Christian living. Speedily does she find when she attempts to put into action the principles of living which she now understands to be the meaning of the Gospel that a breach of sympathy has been opened between her and her accustomed companions; that many things which she was accustomed to do in their society and which made for their common fund of amusement are no longer possible to her. The careless talk, the shameless dress, the gambling, the drinking, the Sunday amusements--such things as these she has thrown over; and she finds that with them she has thrown over the basis of intimacy with her usual companions. It is not that they are antagonistic but simply that their points of contact have ceased to exist. Her own inhibitions exclude her automatically from most of the activities of her social circle. She finds herself much alone. Her friends are sorry for her and think her foolish and try to win her back, but it is clear to her that she can only go back by going back from Christ. This is the common case of the young whether boy or girl to-day, and the practical question is, Can they endure the isolation? It is easy to say: Let them make Christian friends; but that is not always practical, especially in the present state of the Church when there is no cohesion among its members, no true sense of constituting a Brotherhood, of being members of the same Body. We have to admit that the attempt to hold a high standard usually ends in failure, at least the practical failure of a weak compromise. But there are characters that are strong enough to face the isolation and to readjust life on the basis of the new principles and to mould it in accord with the new ideals. The period of this readjustment is one of severe testing of one's grasp on principles and one's strength of purpose. But the battle once fought out we attain a new kind of freedom and expansion of life. We look back with some amusement at the old life and the things that fascinated us in the days of our spiritual unconsciousness much as we look back at the games that amused us in our childish hours. The desert of Egypt that we entered with trepidation and fearful hearts turns out not to be so dreadful as we imagined, and indeed the flowers spring up under our feet as we resolutely tread the desert way. These trials must be the daily experience of those who attempt to put their religion into practice, and these perplexities must assail them so long as the Christian community continues to show its present social incompetence; so long, that is, as we attempt to make the basis of our social action something other than the principles of the spiritual life. A Christian society, one would naturally think, would spring out of the possession of Christian ideals; and doubtless it would if these ideals were really dominant in life, and not a sort of ornament applied to it. Any social circle contains men and women of various degrees of intellectual development and of varying degrees of experience of life; what holds them together is the pursuit of common objects, the objects that we sum up as amusement. Now the Christians in a community certainly have a common object, the cultivation of the spiritual life through the supernatural means offered by the Church of God. One would think that this object would have a more constraining power than the attractions of motoring or golf; but in fact we know that this is not so save in individual cases. There is not, that is to say, anywhere visible a Christian community which is wrought into a unity by the solidifying forces of its professed ideals. Those very people whose paths converge week by week until they meet at this altar, as they leave the altar, follow diverging paths and live in isolation for the rest of their time. One of the constant problems of the Church is that of the loss of those who have for a time been associated with it--of those who have for a time seemed to recognise their duty to God, and their privileges as members of His Son. They drift away into the world. We pray and meditate and worry over this and try to invent some machinery which will overcome it. But it cannot be overcome by machinery, especially by the sort of machinery which consists in transferring the amusements that people find in the world bodily into the Church itself. It cannot and will not be overcome until a Christian society has been created which is bound together by the interests of the Kingdom of God, and in which those interests are so predominant as to throw into the shade and practically annihilate other interests. And especially must such spiritual interests be strong enough to break down all social barriers so that the cultured and refined can find a common ground with the uneducated and socially untrained in the spiritual privileges that they share in common. When the banker can talk with his chauffeur of their common experience in prayer, and the banker's wife and her cook can confer on their mutual difficulties in making a meditation, then we shall have got within sight of a Christian society; but at present, while these have no spiritual contact, it is not within sight. The primitive Christian community in Jerusalem made the attempt at having all things in common. Their mistake seems to have been that they, like other and more modern people, by "all things" understood money. You cannot build any society which is worth the name on money, a Church least of all. It is unimportant whether a man is rich or poor; what is important is his spiritual accomplishment: and it is common spiritual aims and accomplishments which should make up the "all things" which possessed in common will form the basis of an enduring unity. But not until accomplishment becomes the supreme interest of life can we expect to get out of the impasse in which we at present find ourselves; in which, that is, the person can be converted to Christianity and enter into union with God in Christ and become a citizen of the Kingdom of Heaven, and wake to find himself isolated from his old circle by his profession of new principles; but not, by his new principles, truly united to his fellow citizens in the Kingdom of God! One is tempted to write, What a comedy; but before one can do so, realises that it is in fact a tragedy! Mother of God--oh, rare prerogative; Oh, glorious title--what more special grace Could unto thee thy dear Son, dread God, give To show how far thou dost all creatures pass? That mighty power within the narrow fold Did of thy ne'er polluted womb remain, Whom, whiles he doth th' all-ruling Sceptre hold, Not earth, nor yet the heavens can contain; Thou in the springtide of thy age brought'st forth Him who before all matter, time and place, Begotten of th' Eternal Father was. Oh, be thou then, while we admire thy worth A means unto that Son not to proceed In rigour with us for each sinful deed. John Brereley, Priest (Vere Lawrence Anderton, S.J.) 1575-1643 PART TWO CHAPTER XI NAZARETH And he went down with them, and came to Nazareth, and was subject unto them. S. Luke II, 51. The Holy Church acknowledges and confesses the pure Virgin Mary as Mother of God through whom has been given unto us the bread of immortality and the wine of consolation. Give blessings then in spiritual song. ARMENIAN. After the rapid succession of fascinating pictures which are etched for us in the opening chapters of the Gospel there follows a space of about twelve years of which we are told nothing. The fables which fill the pages of the Apocryphal Gospels serve chiefly to emphasise the difference between an inspired and an uninspired narrative. The human imagination trying to develop the situation suggested by the Gospel and to fill in the unwritten chapters of our Lord's life betrays its incompetence to create a story of God Incarnate which shall have the slightest convincing power. These Apocryphal stories are immensely valuable to us as, by contrast, creating confidence in the story of Jesus as told by the Evangelists, but for nothing more. We are left to use our own imagination in filling in these years of silence in our Lord's training; and we shall best use it, not by trying to imagine what may have occurred, but by trying to understand what is necessarily involved in the facts as we know them. We know that the home in Nazareth whither Mary and Joseph brought Jesus after the death of Herod permitted them to return from Egypt was the simple home of a carpenter. It would appear to have been shared by the children of Joseph, and our Lady would have been the house-mother, busy with many cares. We know, too, that under this commonplace exterior of a poor household there was a life of the spirit of far reaching significance. Mary was ceaselessly pondering many things--the significance of all those happenings which, as the years flowed on without any further supernatural intervention, must at times have seemed as though they were quite purposeless. Of course this could not have been a settled feeling, for the insight of her pure soul would have held her to the certainty that such actions of God as she had experienced would some day reveal the meaning which as yet lay hidden. In the meantime other things did not matter much, seeing she had Jesus, the object of endless love. Every mother dreams over the baby she cares for and looks out into the future with trembling hope; so S. Mary's thoughts would go out following the hints of prophecy and angelic utterances, unable to understand how the light and shadow which were mingled there could find fulfilment in her Child. But like any other mother the thought would come back to her present possession, the satisfaction of her heart that she had in Jesus. With the growth of Jesus there would come the unfolding of the answering love, which was but another mode in which the love of God she had experienced all her life was manifesting itself. Jesus grew in wisdom and stature and we are able to enter a little into the over-flowing love of Mary as she watched the advance, this unfolding from day to day. The wonder that was hers in guiding this mind and will, in teaching our Lord His first prayers, in telling Him the story of the people of whom He had assumed our nature! There was here no self-will, no resistance to guidance, no perversity to wound a mother's heart. In the training of an ordinary child there are from time to time hints of characteristics or tendencies which may develop later into spiritual or moral disaster. There are growls of the sleeping beast which make us tremble for the future: there are hours of agony when we think of the inevitable temptations which must be met, and suggestions of weakness which colour our imagination of the meeting of them with the lurid light of defeat. But as Mary watched the unfolding character of Jesus she saw nothing there that carried with it the least suggestion of evil growth in the future, no outcropping of hereditary sin or disordered appetite. A constantly unfolding intelligence, and growing interest in the things that most interested her, an eagerness to hear and to know of the will and love of the eternal Father, these are her joy. That would have been the centre--would it not?--of the unfolding consciousness of Jesus: the knowledge of the Father. Training by love, so we might describe the life in the Home at Nazareth. And we must not forget the grave ageing figure who is the head of the household. _The Holy Family_--that was the perfect unity that their love created. There is a wonderful picture of these three by Sassaferato which catches, as no other Holy Family that I know of does, the meaning of their association. S. Mary whom the artistic imagination is so apt, after the Nativity, to transform into a stately matron, here still retains the note of virginity which in fact she never lost. It is the maiden-mother who stands by the side of the grave, elderly S. Joseph, the ideal workman, who is also the ideal guardian of his maiden-wife. And Jesus binds these two together and with them makes a unity, interpreting to us the perfection of family life. Family life is a tremendous test, it brings out the best and the worst of those who are associated in it. The ordinary restraints of social intercourse are of less force in the intimacy of family life: there is less need felt to watch conduct, or to mask what we know are our disagreeable traits. It is quite easy for character to deteriorate in the freedom of such intercourse. It is pretty sure to do so unless there is the constant pressure of principle in the other direction. The great safeguard is the sort of love that is based on mutual respect,--respect both for ourselves and for others. We talk a good deal as though love were always alike; as though the fact that a man and a woman love each other were always the same sort of fact. It does not require much knowledge of human nature or much reflection to convince us that that is not the case. Love is not a purely physical fact; and outside its physical implications there are many factors which may enter, whose existence constitute the _differentia_ from case to case. It is upon these varying elements that the happiness of the family life depends. One of the most important is that character on either side shall be such as to inspire respect. Many a marriage goes to pieces on this rock; it is found that the person who exercised a certain kind of fascination shows in the intimacy of married life a character and qualities which are repulsive; a shallowness which inspires contempt, an egotism which is intolerable, a laxity in the treatment of obligations which destroys any sense of the stability of life. A marriage which does not grow into a relation of mutual honour and respect must always be in a state of unstable equilibrium, constantly subject to storms of passion, to suspicion and distrust. And therefore such a marriage will afford no safe basis on which to build a family life. But without a stable family life a stable social and religious life is impossible. It is therefore no surprise to those who believe that the powers of evil are active in the world to find that the family is the very centre of their attack at the present time. The crass egotism lying back of so much modern teaching is nowhere more clearly visible than in the assertion of the right of self-determination so blatantly made in popular writings. By self-determination is ultimately meant the right of the individual to seek his own happiness in his own way, and to make pleasure the rule of his life. "The right to happiness" is claimed in utter disregard of the fact that the claim often involves the unhappiness of others. "The supremacy of love," meaning the supremacy of animalism, is the excuse for undermining the very foundations of family life. No obligation, it appears, can have a binding force longer than the parties to it find gratification in it. Personal inclination and gratification is held sufficient ground for action whose consequences are far from being personal, which, in fact, affect the sane and healthy state of society as a whole. The decline of a civilisation has always shown itself more markedly in the decline of the family life than elsewhere. The family, not the individual, is the basis of the social state, and no amount of theorising can make the fact different. Whatever assails the integrity of the family assails the life of the state, and no single family can be destroyed without society as a whole feeling the effect. "What," it is asked, "is to be done? If two people find that they have blundered, are they to go on indefinitely suffering from the result of their blunder? If an immature boy or girl in a moment of passion make a mistake as to their suitability to live together, are they to be compelled to do so at the expense of constant unhappiness?" It would seem obvious to say that justice requires that those who make blunders should take the consequences of them; that those who create a situation involving suffering should do the suffering themselves and not attempt to pass it on to others. It is not as though the consequences of the act can be avoided; they cannot. What happens is that the incidence of them is shifted. It is a part of the brutal egotism of divorce that it is quite willing to shift the incidence of the suffering that it has created on to the lives of wholly innocent people; in many cases upon children, in all cases upon society at large. For it is necessary to emphasize the fact that society is a closely compact body: so interwoven is life with life that if one member suffer the other members suffer with it. Breaches of moral order are not individual matters but social. This truth is implied in society's constantly asserted right to regulate family relations in the general interest even after it has ceased to think of such relations as having any spiritual significance. We need to-day a more vivid sense of the _community_ lest we shall see all sense of a common life engulfed in the rising tide of individual anarchism. We need the assertion in energetic form of the right of the community as supreme over the right of the individual. We must deny the right of the individual to pursue his own way and his own pleasure at the expense of the rights of others. And to his insolent question, "Why should I suffer in an intolerable situation?" we must plainly answer: "Because you are responsible for the situation, and it is intolerable that you should be permitted to throw off the results of your wickedness or your stupidity upon other and innocent people." And it is quite clear that should society assert its pre-eminent right in unmistakable form and make it evident that it does not propose to tolerate the results of the egotistic nonsense of self-determination and the right of every one to live his own life, the evils of divorce and of shattered families would presently shrink to relatively small proportions. The present facility of divorce encourages thoughtless and unsuitable marriages in the first place; and in the second place, encourages the resort to divorce in circumstances of family disturbance which would speedily right themselves in the present as they have done in the past if those concerned knew that their happiness and comfort for years compelled an adjustment of life. When as at present any one who loses his temper can rush off to a court and get a marriage dissolved for some quite trivial reason, there is small encouragement to practice self-control. If a man and woman know that the consequences of conduct must be faced by them, and cannot be avoided by thrusting them upon others, they will no doubt in the course of time learn to exercise a little self-control. The family is the foundation of the state because, among other things, it is the natural training place of citizens: no public training in schools and camps can for a moment safely be looked to as a substitute or an equivalent of wholesome family influence. If the family does not make good citizens we cannot have good citizens. The family too is at the basis of organised religious life; if the family does not make good Christians we shall not have good Christians. The Sunday School and the Church societies are poor substitutes for the religious influence of the family, as the school and the camp are for its social interests. One is inclined to stress the obvious failure of the family to fulfil its alloted functions in the teaching of religion as the root difficulty that the Christian religion has to encounter and the most comprehensive cause of its relative failure in modern life. The responsibility for the religious and moral training of children rests squarely upon those who have assumed the responsibility of bringing them into the world, and it cannot be rightly pushed off on to some one else. To the protest of parents that they are incompetent to conduct such training, the only possible reply is a blunt, "Whose fault is that?" If you have been so careless of the fundamental responsibilities of life, you are incompetent to assume a relation which of necessity carries such responsibility with it. It is no light matter to have committed to you the care of an immortal soul whose eternal future may quite well be conditioned on the way in which you fulfil your trust. It would be well as a preliminary to marriage to take a little of the time ordinarily given to its frivolous accompaniments and seriously meditate upon the words of our Lord which seem wholly appropriate to the circumstance: "Whoso shall cause to stumble one of these little ones which believe in me, it were better for him that a millstone were hanged about his neck, and that he were drowned in the depths of the sea." It is the careless and incompetent training of children which in fact "causes them to stumble" when the presence of word and example would have held them straight. It has been (to speak personally) the greatest trial of my priesthood that out of the thousands of children I have dealt with, in only rare cases have I had the entire support of the family; and I have always considered that I was fortunate when I met with no interference and was given an indifferent tolerance. It is heart-breaking to see years of careful work brought to naught (so far as the human eye can see: the divine eye can see deeper) by the brutal materialism of a father and the silly worldliness of a mother. The interplay of lives in a family should be consciously directed by those who control them to the cultivation, to the bringing out of the best that is in them. Education means the drawing out of the innate powers of the personality and the training of them for the highest purposes. It is the deliberate direction of personal powers to the highest ends, the discipline of them for the performance of those ends. The life of a child should be shaped with reference to its final destiny from the moment of its birth. It should be surrounded with an atmosphere of prayer and charity which would be the natural atmosphere in which it would expand as it grows, and in terms of which it would learn to express itself as soon as it reaches sufficient maturity to express itself at all. It should become familiar with spiritual language and modes of action, and meet nothing that is inharmonious with these. But we know that the education of the Christian child is commonly the opposite of all this. It learns little that is spiritual. When it comes to learn religion it is obviously a matter of small importance in the family life; if there is any expression of it at all, it is one that is crowded into corners and constantly swamped by other interests which are obviously felt to be of more importance. Too often the spiritual state of the family may be summed up in the words of the small boy who condensed his observation of life into the axiom: "Men and dogs do not go to Church." In such an atmosphere the child finds religion and morals reduced to a system of repression. God becomes a man with a club constantly saying, Don't! He grows to think that he is a fairly virtuous person so long as he skilfully avoids the system of taboos wherewith he feels that life is surrounded, and fulfils the one positive family law of a religious nature, that he shall go to Sunday School until he is judged sufficiently mature to join the vast company of men and dogs. Nothing very much can come of negatives. Religion calls for positive expression; and it is not enough that the child shall find positive expression once a week in the church; he must find it every day in the week in the intimacy of the family. He must find that the principles of life which are inculcated in the church are practiced by his father and his mother, his brother and his sister, or he will not take them seriously. If he is conscious of virtue and religious practice as repression, a sort of tyranny practiced on a child by his elders, his notion of the liberty of adult life will quite naturally be freedom to break away from what is now forced upon him into the life of self-determination and indifference to things spiritual that characterises the adult circle with which he is familiar. But consider, by contrast, those rare families where the opposite of all this is true; where there is the peace of a recollected life of which the foundations are laid in constant devotion to our Lord. There you will find the nearest possible reproduction of the life of the Holy Family in Nazareth. Because the life of the family is a life of prayer, there will you find Jesus in the midst of it. There you will find Mary and Joseph associated with its life of intercession. In such a family the expression of a religious thought will never be felt as a discord. The talk may quite naturally at any moment turn on spiritual things. There are families in which one feels that one must make a careful preparation for the introduction of a spiritual allusion: one does it with a sense of danger, much as one might sail through a channel strewn with mines. There are other families in which one has no hesitation in speaking of prayer, of sacraments, of spiritual actions, as things with which all are familiar in practice, and are as natural as food and drink. In this atmosphere it produces no smile to say, "I am going to slip into the Church and make my meditation"; or, "I shall be a little late to-night as I am making my confession on my way home." Religion in such a circle has not incurred contempt through familiarity: it still remains a great adventure, the very greatest of all indeed; but it is an adventure in the open, full of joy and gladness. The Holy Family was a family that worked hard. It is no doubt true that our Lord learned his foster-father's trade, so that those who knew him later on, or heard His preaching, asked, "Is not this the carpenter?" But the Holy Family was a radiant centre of joy and peace because Jesus was in the midst of it. Where Jesus dwells there is the effect of his indwelling in the spiritual gladness that results. Mary was never too busy for her religious duties nor Joseph too tired with his week's work to get up on the Sabbath for whatever services in honour of God the Synagogue offered. They were perhaps conscious as the Child "increased in wisdom and stature, and in favour with God and man" of a spiritual influence that flowed from Him, and sweetened and lightened the life of the home. They were not conscious that in His Person God was in the midst of them; but that is what we can (if we will) be conscious of. We are heirs of the Incarnation, and God is in the midst of us; and especially does Jesus wish to dwell, as He dwelt in Nazareth, in the midst of the family. He wishes to make every household a Holy Family. He is in the midst of it in uninterrupted communion with the soul of the baptised child; and the father and mother, understanding that their highest duty and greatest privilege is to watch and foster the spiritual unfolding of the child's life in such wise that Jesus may never depart from union with it, become as Joseph and Mary in their ministry to it. There is nothing more heavenly than such a charge; there is nothing more beautiful than such a family life. There is often a pause in God's work between times of great activity--a time of retreat, as it seems, which is a rest from what has preceded and a preparation for what is to come. Such a pause were these years at Nazareth in the life of Blessed Mary. The time from the Annunciation to the return from Egypt was a time of deep emotion, of spirit-shaking events. Later on there were the trials of the years of the ministry, culminating in Calvary. But these years while Jesus was growing to manhood in the quietness of the home were years of unspeakable privilege and peace. The daily association with the perfect Child, the privilege of watching and guarding and ministering to Him, these days of deepening spiritual union with Him, although much that was happening to the mother was happening unconsciously,--were strengthening her grasp on ultimate reality, so that she issued with perfect strength to meet the supreme tragedy of her life. How wonderful God must have seemed to her in those thirty years of peace! To all of us God is thus wonderful in quiet hours; and the quiet hours are much the more numerous in most of our lives. But have we all learned to use these hours so that we may be ready to meet the hours of testing which shall surely come? No matter how quiet the valley of our life, some day the pleasant path will lift, and we must climb the hilltop where rises the Cross. It will not be intolerable, if the quiet years have been spent in Nazareth with Jesus and Mary and Joseph. Most holy, and pure Virgin, Blessed Mayd, Sweet Tree of Life, King David's Strength and Tower, The House of Gold, the Gate of Heaven's power, The Morning-Star whose light our fall hath stay'd. Great Queen of Queens, most mild, most meek, most wise, Most venerable, Cause of all our joy, Whose cheerful look our sadnesse doth destroy, And art the spotlesse Mirror to man's eyes. The Seat of Sapience, the most lovely Mother, And most to be admired of thy sexe, Who mad'st us happy all, in thy reflexe, By bringing forth God's Onely Son, no other. Thou Throne of Glory, beauteous as the moone, The rosie morning, or the rising sun, Who like a giant hastes his course to run, Till he hath reached his two-fold point of noone. How are thy gifts and graces blazed abro'd, Through all the lines of this circumference, T'imprint in all purged hearts this Virgin sence Of being Daughter, Mother, Spouse of God? Ben Jonson, 1573-1637. PART TWO CHAPTER XII THE TEMPLE And he said unto them, How is it that ye sought me? Know ye not that I must be in my Father's house? S. Luke II, 49. We give thanks unto thee, O Lord, who lovest mankind, Thou benefactor of our souls and bodies, for that Thou hast this day vouchsafed to feed us with Thy Heavenly Mysteries; guide our path aright, establish us all in Thy fear, guard our lives, make sure our steps through the prayers and supplications of the glorious Mother of God and Ever Virgin Mary and of all Thy saints. RUSSIAN. The time was come when by the law of His people the Boy Jesus must assume the duties of an adult in the exercise of His religion. Therefore His parents took Him with them to Jerusalem that He might participate in the celebration of the Passover. It would be a wonderful moment in the life of any intelligent Hebrew boy when for the first time he came in contact with the places and scenes which were so familiar to him in the story of his nation's past; and we can imagine what would have been the special interest of the Child Jesus who would have been so thoroughly taught in the Old Testament Scriptures, and who would have felt an added interest in the places He was now seeing because of their association with His great ancestor, David. Still His chief interest was in the religion of His people, and it was the temple where the sacrificial worship of God was centred that would have for Him the greatest attraction. This was His "Father's House," and here He Himself felt utterly at home. We are not surprised to be told that He lingered in these courts. "And when they had fulfilled the days, as they returned, the child Jesus tarried behind in Jerusalem; and Joseph and His mother knew it not." They had perfect confidence in Jesus; and yet it seems strange that they should have assumed that He was somewhere about and would appear at the proper time. When the night drew on and the camp was set up there was no Child to be found. Then we imagine the distress, the trouble of heart, with which Mary and Joseph hurry back to Jerusalem and spend the ensuing days in seeking through its streets. We share something of our Lord's surprise when we learn that the temple was the last place that they thought of in their search. Did they think that Jesus would be caught by the life of the Passover crowds that filled the streets of Jerusalem? Did they think that it would be a child's curiosity which would hold him fascinated with the glittering toys of the bazaars? Did they think that He had mistaken the caravan and been carried off in some other direction and was lost to them forever? We only know that it was not till three days had passed that they thought of the temple and there found Him. "And when they saw Him, they were amazed: and his mother said unto Him, Son, why has thou thus dealt with us? Behold, thy father and I have sought thee sorrowing. And he said unto them, How is it that ye sought me? Know ye not that I must be in my Father's house?" S. Mary and S. Joseph were proceeding on certain assumptions as to what Jesus would do which turned out to be untenable. It is one of the dangers of our religion--our personal religion--that we are apt to assume too much which in the testing turns out to be unfounded. We reach a certain stage of religious attainment, and then we assume that all is going well with us. When one asks a child how he is getting on he invariably answers: "I am all right." And the adult often has the same childish confidence in an untested and unverified state of soul. We are "all right"; which practically means that we do not care to be bothered with looking into our spiritual state at all. We have been going on for years now following the rules that we laid down when we first realised that the being a Christian was a more or less serious matter. Nothing has happened in these years to break the placidity of our routine. There has never been any relapse into grievous sin; we have never felt any real temptation to abandon the practice o£ our religion. We run along as easily and smoothly as a car on well-laid rails. We are "all right." But in fact we are all wrong. We have lapsed into a state of which the ideal is purely static: an ideal of spiritual comfort as the goal of our spiritual experience here on earth. We have acquired what appears to be a state of equilibrium into which we wish nothing to intrude that would endanger the balance. We are, no doubt, quite unconsciously, excluding from life every emotion, every ambition, as well as every temptation, which appears to involve spiritual disturbance. But we need to be disturbed. For the spiritual life is dynamic and not static; its ideal is motion and not rest. Rest is the quality of dead things, and particularly of dead souls. The weariness of the way, which is so obvious a phenomenon in the Christian life, is the infallible sign of lukewarmness. What we need therefore is to break with the assumption that we know all that it is necessary to know, and that we have done or are doing all that it is necessary to do. It is indeed the mark of an ineffective religion that the notion of necessity is adopted as its stimulus, rather than the notion of aspiration. The question, "Must I do this?" is a revelation of spiritual poverty and ineptitude. "I press on," is the motto of a living religion. Personal religion, therefore, needs constantly to be submitted to new tests, lest it lapse into an attitude of finality. Fortunately for us, God does not leave the matter wholly in our hands, but Himself, through His Providence, applies a wide variety of tests to us. It is often a bitter and disturbing experience to have our comfortable routine broken up and to find that we have quite miserably failed under very simple temptations. And the sort of failure I am thinking of is not so much the failure of sin as the failure of ideal. It is the case of those who think that they have satisfactorily worked out the problems of the spiritual life, and have reached a satisfactory adjustment of duty and practice, and then find that if the adjustment changes their practice falls off. The outer circumstances of life change and the change is followed by a readjustment of the inner life on a distinctly lower plane. It is revealed to us that the outer circumstances were controlling the spiritual practice, and not the practice dominating the circumstances. The ruling ideal was that of comfort, and under the new circumstances the spiritual ideal is lowered until it fits in with a new possibility of comfort in the altered circumstances. It is well to examine ourselves on these matters and to find what is the actual ruling motive in our religious practice. We may have assumed that we have Jesus, when all the assumption meant was that we thought that He was somewhere about. After all, it will not aid us very much if He is "in the company," if we go on our day's journey without Him. It is a poor assumption to build life upon, that Jesus exists, or that He is in the Church, or that He is the Saviour. It is nothing to us unless He is _our_ Saviour, unless He is personally present in us and with us. And it is not wise or safe to let this be a matter of assumption, even though the assumption rest on a perfectly valid experience in the past; we cannot live on history, not even on our own history. That Jesus is with us must be verified day by day, and we ought to go no day's journey without the certainty of His presence. We can best do that, when the circumstances of life permit, by a daily communion. There at the altar we meet Jesus and know that He is with us. When the circumstances of life do not permit, (and often they do, when we lazily think they do not) there are other modes of arriving at spiritual certainty. It is quite easy to lose Jesus. He does not force His companionship upon us, but rather when we meet Him. "He makes as though he would go farther." He offers Himself to us; He never compels us to receive Him as a guest. And when we have in fact received Him, and asked Him to abide with us, He does not stay any longer than we want Him. We have to constrain Him. In other words, we lose Jesus, we lose the vitality of our spiritual life (though we may retain the routine practice of our religion), if we are not from day to day making it the most vital issue of our lives. That does not necessarily mean that we are spending more time on it than on anything else, but that we are putting it first in the order of importance in our lives and are sacrificing, if occasion arise, other things to it, rather than it to them. That a man loves his wife and child does not necessarily mean that he actually spends more time on them than he does on his business, but it does mean that they are more important in his life than his business, and if need arise it will be the business that is sacrificed to them and not they to the business. Spirituality is much less a matter of time than of energy. A wise director can guide a man to sanctity who will probably consecrate his Sunday, and give the director one half hour on week days to dispose of. To lose Jesus does not require the commission of great sin, as we count sin. The quite easiest way to lose Him is to forget Him and go about our business as though He did not exist. That is a frequent happening. For vast numbers Jesus does not exist except for an hour or so on Sunday. They give Him the formal homage of attendance at church on Sunday morning and then they go out and forget Him, not only for the rest of the week but for the rest of the day. The religion which thus reduces itself to a minimum of attendance at Mass on Sunday morning is surely not a religion from which much can be expected in the way of spiritual accomplishment. If it be true that there is a minimum of religious requirement which will ensure that we "go to heaven," then that sort of religion may be useful; but I do not know that anywhere such a minimum _is_ required. The statement that I find is "Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy mind, and with all thy strength." The outstanding characteristic of love is surely not niggardliness, but passionate self-giving. All things are forgiven, not to those who are careful to keep within the limits required, but to those who "love much." The study of many cases, the experience of over thirty years in the confessional, convinces me that the chief cause of spiritual failure among Christians is not the irresistible impact of temptation but the lack of spiritual vision. The average man or woman is not consciously going anywhere; but they are just keeping a rule which is the arbitrary exactment of God. It might just as well be some other rule. That is, in their minds, the practice of the spiritual life has no immediate ends; it is not productive of spiritual expansion; it is not a ladder set up on earth to reach heaven on which they are climbing ever nearer God, and on the way are catching ever broader visions of spiritual reality as they ascend. The knowledge and the love of God are to them phrases, not practical goals, invitations to paths of spiritual adventure. Hence, having no immediate ends to accomplish, they find the whole spiritual routine dull and unattractive and naturally tend to reduce it to a minimum. It is not at all surprising that in the end they drop religion altogether, as why should one keep on travelling a road that leads nowhere? How can one love and serve a Jesus whom one has lost? The problem of personal religion is the problem of finding Jesus, of bringing life into a right relation to Him. The plain path is to follow the example of His parents who sought Him "sorrowing." Sorrow for having lost Jesus is the true repentance. Repentance which springs from fear of consequences, or from disgust with our own incompetence and stupidity when we realise that we have made a spiritual failure of life, is an imperfect thing. True repentance has its origin in love and is therefore directed toward a person. It is the conviction that we have violated the love of our Father, our Saviour, our Sanctifier. Sorrow springing from love is sorrow "after a godly sort." It is easy for us to drift into ways of carelessness and indifference which seem not to involve sin, to be no more than a decline from some preceding standard of practice which we conclude to have been unnecessarily strict; but the result is an increasing disregard of spiritual values, a growing obscuration of the divine presence in life. Then the day comes when some quite marked and positive spiritual failure, a failure of which we cannot imagine ourselves to have been guilty, when we were living in constant communion with our Lord, arouses us to the fact that for months our spiritual vitality has been declining and that we have ended in losing Jesus. It is a tremendous shock to find how fast and how far we have been travelling when we thought that we were only slightly relaxing an unnecessarily strict routine: that when we thought that we were but acting "in a common sense way," we were in reality effecting a compromise with the world. Well is it then if the surprise of our disaster shocks us back to the recovery of what we have lost, if it send us into the streets of the city, sorrowing and seeking for Jesus. Mere spiritual laziness is at the bottom of much failure in religion. There is no success anywhere in life save through the constant pressure of the will driving a reluctant and protesting set of nerves and muscles to their daily tasks. The day labourer comes home from his work with his muscular strength exhausted, but he has to go back to the same monotonous task on the morrow: his family has to be fed and clothed and he cannot permit himself to say, "I am tired and will stay away from work to-day." The business or professional man comes back from his office with a wearied brain that makes any thought an effort, but he must take up the routine to-morrow; the pressure of competitive business does not permit him to work when and as much as he chooses. But the Christian who is engaged in the most important work that is carried on in this world, the work of preparing an immortal soul for an unending future, is constantly under the temptation "to take a day off"--to let down the standard of accomplishment till it ceases to interfere with the business or the pleasure of life; is constantly too tired or too busy to do this or that. In short, religion is apt to be treated in a manner that would ensure the bankruptcy of any material occupation in life. Why then should it not ensure spiritual bankruptcy? Surely, to retain Jesus with us, to live in the intimacy of God, is the most pressingly important of our duties; it is worth any sort of expenditure of energy to accomplish it. And it cannot be accomplished without expenditure of energy. The view of religion which conceives it as a facile assent to certain propositions, the occasional and formal participation in certain actions, the more or less strict observance of certain rules of conduct, is so far from the fact that it is not worth discussing. Religion is the realised friendship of God; it is a personal relation of the deepest and purest sort; and, like all personal relations, is kept alive by the mutual activities of those concerned. The action of one party will not suffice to keep the relation in healthy state. The love of God itself will not suffice to maintain a being in holiness and carry him on to happiness who is himself quite indifferent to the entire spiritual transaction--whose attitude is that of one willing to be saved if he be not asked to take much trouble about it. That lackadaisical attitude can never produce any result in the spiritual order; it can only ensure the spiritual decline and death of one who has not thought it worth while to make an effort to live. Jesus can be found; but the finding depends upon the method of the seeking. There are many men who claim, and quite honestly, to be in pursuit of truth: to find the truth is the end of all their efforts. Yet they do not succeed in finding it. Why is this? I think that the principal reason is that they are constituting themselves the judges of the truth; they first of all lay down certain rules which God must obey if He wishes them to believe in Him! They insist on having, before they will believe, a kind of evidence that is impossible of attainment. They assert that this or that is impossible, and the other thing incredible. They partially ascertain the laws that govern the material universe, and they deny to the Maker of the universe the power to act otherwise than in accord with so much of the order of nature as they have discovered! They deny to God the sort of personal action in this world that they themselves constantly exercise. The method is not a method that can be hopeful of success. And it is worth noting that it is not a method that these same men followed in their investigations of the natural world. They have not accumulated information about natural law by first laying down rules as to how natural law must act, and refusing to listen to any evidence which does not fall in with these rules: rather, they have set themselves to observe how nature does act, and then deduced rules from their observation. Why not pursue the same method in religion? Why not in an humble spirit observe how God does act? Why start by saying, "Miracles do not happen?" Why reject as incredible the Virgin Birth and the Resurrection? Why not get a bigger notion of God than that of a mechanician running a machine, and think of Him as a Person dealing with persons? The relation of persons cannot be mechanical or predetermined; they are and must be free and spontaneous: they have their origin, not in the pressure of invariable law but in the impulse of love. Nor is the search for Jesus that is inspired by mere curiosity likely to be a success. There are many people who are curious about religion, and they want to know why we believe thus and so; and particularly why we act as we do. Why do you keep this day? What do you mean by this ceremony? Do you think that it is wrong to do this or that? Such people wander about observing; but their observation we understand is the observation of an idler who does not expect to be influenced by what he observes, but only to be amused. These are they who run after the latest thing in heresy, the newest thing in thought. What is observable about them is that they never seriously contemplate doing anything themselves. They are like those multitudes who followed our Lord about for awhile but were dispersed by the test of hard sayings. But Jesus can be found. He is found of all those who seek Him humbly and sincerely, putting away self and desiring simply to be led: who do not challenge Him with Pilate's scornful, "What is truth?" but rather say, "Lord, I believe; help Thou my unbelief." He is easily found of those who know where to look for Him. There is no mystery about that,--He will certainly be in His Father's House. The surprise of Joseph and Mary that He had thus dealt with them is answered by Jesus' surprise that they did not certainly know where He would be: "Wist ye not that I must be in My Father's House?" In the House of God, the Church of God, is the ready approach to Jesus. It is in the last degree foolish to waive aside the Church in which are stored the treasures of more than nineteen centuries of Christian experience as though it did and could have nothing to say in the matter. A seeker after information as to the meaning of the constitution of the United States would be considered a madman if he impatiently turned from those of whom he made enquiry when they suggested the decrees of the Supreme Court as the proper place to seek information. Surely, from any point of view, the Church will know more about Jesus than any one else: if in all the centuries it has not discovered the meaning of Him Whom it ceaselessly worships there is small likelihood that that meaning will be discovered by an unbeliever studying an ancient book! If the Church cannot lead us to Jesus, and if it cannot interpret to us His will, there is small likelihood that any one else will be able to do so. And if during all these centuries His will has been unknown it can hardly be of much importance to discover it now. If His Church has failed, then His Mission is discredited. For us who have accepted His revelation as made to the Church and by it unfailingly preserved, who have learned to find Him there where He has promised to be until the end of time, there is another sense in which we think of His words as words of encouragement and consolation. There are hours in life which press hard upon us; there are other hours when the sense of God's love and goodness fills us with thankfulness and joy. In such hours we crave the intimacy of personal communion: we want to tell our grief or our joy. And then we take our way to the temple, and know that we shall find Him there in His Incarnate Presence in His Father's House. We go in and kneel before the Tabernacle and know that Jesus is here. Here in the silence He waits for us. Here in the long hours He watches; here is the ever-open door leading to the Father where any man at any time may enter. He who humbled Himself to the hidden life of Nazareth now humbles Himself to the hidden life of the Tabernacle: and we who believe His Word, have no need to envy Joseph and Mary the intimacy of their life with Jesus, because here for us, if we will, is a greater intimacy--the intimacy of those of whom it can be said: They evermore dwell in Him and He in them. Lady of Heaven, Regent of the Earth, Empress of all the infernal marshes fell, Receive me, thy poor Christian, 'spite my, dearth, In the fair midst of thine elect to dwell: Albeit my lack of grace I know full well; For that thy grace, my Lady and my Queen, Aboundeth more than all my misdemean, Withouten which no soul of all that sigh May merit heaven. 'Tis sooth I say, for e'en In this belief I will to live and die. Say to thy Son, I am his--that by his birth And death my sins be all redeemable-- As Mary of Egypt's dole he changed to mirth, And eke Theophilus', to whom befell Quittance of thee, albeit (so men tell) To the foul fiend he had contracted been. Assoilzie me, that I may have no teen, Maid, that without breach of virginity Didst bear our Lord that in the Host is seen: In this belief I will to live and die. A poor old wife I am, and little worth: Nothing I know, nor letter aye could spell: Where in the church to worship I fare forth, I see heaven limned with harps and lutes, and hell Where damned folk seethe in fire unquenchable: One doth me fear, the other joy serene; Grant I may have the joy, O Virgin clean, To whom all sinners lift their hands on high, Made whole in faith through thee, their go-between: In this belief I will to live and die. ENVOY Thou didst conceive, Princess most bright of sheen, Jesus the Lord, that hath no end nor mean, Almighty that, departing heaven's demesne To succour us, put on our frailty, Offering to death his sweet of youth and green: Such as he is, our Lord he is, I ween: In this belief I will to live and die. PART TWO CHAPTER XIII CANA I And the third day there was a marriage in Cana of Galilee; and the mother of Jesus was there; and both Jesus was called, and his disciples, to the marriage. S. John II, 1. Grant, O Lord, we beseech thee, that we thy servants may enjoy constant health of body and mind, and by the glorious intercession of blessed Mary, ever a virgin, be delivered from all temporal afflictions, and come to those joys that are eternal. Through. Having received, O Lord, what is to advance our salvation; grant we may always be protected by the patronage of blessed Mary, ever a virgin, in whose honor we have offered this sacrifice to thy majesty. Through. Old Catholic. "There was a marriage in Cana of Galilee, and the mother of Jesus was there." To S. John Blessed Mary is ever the "mother of Jesus." He never calls her by her name in any mention of her. Jesus who loved him and whom he loved and loves always with consuming passion, held the foreground of his consciousness; all other persons are known through their relation to Him. As he is writing his Gospel-story toward the end of his life, the Blessed Virgin has long been gone to join her Son in the place of perfect love. We cannot conceive of her living long on earth after His Ascension. Her "conversation" would in a special way be "in heaven." Whatever the time she remained here awaiting the will of God for her, we may be sure that the days she spent under the protection of S. John were wonderful days for him, wherein their communing would have been the continual lifting of their hearts and souls to Him, Child and Friend, who is also God enthroned at the Right Hand of the Father. It is not unlikely that the marvellous spiritual maturity of which we are conscious in the writings of S. John was aided in its unfolding by the intimacy of his relations with S. Mary. But always she remained to him what she was because of what Jesus was; she remained to the end "the mother of Jesus." Here at the marriage of Cana the way in which she is mentioned suggests that she was staying in the house where the marriage was celebrated: she was simply there; Jesus and the disciples were called, invited, to the wedding. Some relationship, it has been suggested, between S. Mary and the bride or groom led to her presence in the house. That however is mere conjecture. The marriage in any case was a wonderful one, for both Jesus and Mary were there. It was therefore the ideal of all weddings which seem to lack the true note of the new matrimony which springs from the Incarnation if they take place without such guests. As in imagination we follow Mary as she goes quietly about the house, which like her own was a home of the poor, helping in the arrangements of the wedding, one cannot help recalling many weddings with which one has had something to do, and in the arrangements of which we cannot think of Mary as having any part. They were the arrangements of the weddings of Christians, and the weddings took place in a Christian church; but neither is Mary there nor Jesus called. We are unable to think of Mary as present amid the tumult of worldiness and frivolity, the endless chatter over dress and decoration, which so commonly precedes the celebration of a sacrament which is the symbol of "the mystical union that there is betwixt Christ and His Church." That deep piety which puts God and God's will before all else would strike a jarring note here, where the dominant note is still the pagan note of the decking of the slave for her new master. It is perhaps not without significance of the direction of the movement of the modern mind that the protests of the emancipated woman are against the Christian, not the pagan elements in matrimony: she tends to regard marriage as a state of temporary luxury rather than the perfect union of two souls in Christ. Clearly in marriages which are regarded as purely temporary engagements, dependent on the will of the parties for their continuance, there is no place for the mother of Jesus. The purity that emanates from her will be a silent but keenly felt criticism on the whole conception underlying a vast number of modern marriages. Even as I write I read that in a certain great city in the United States the number of divorces granted was one fourth of the number of the marriages celebrated. Clearly at marriages which are surrounded with this atmosphere of paganism, be they celebrated where they may, there is no place for the Blessed Mother; and neither is Jesus called. His priest, unfortunately, is often called, and dares celebrate a sacrament which in the circumstances he can hardly help feeling is a sacrilege. There are many cases in which what purports to be Christian marriage is between those who are not Christians, or of whom only one is a Christian in any complete sense. One hears frequently of the sacrament of matrimony being celebrated when only one of the parties is baptised. It is of course possible for any priest to act on the authority conferred upon him by the state and in his capacity as a state official perform marriages between those whom the state authorises to be married: but why do it under the character of a priest? or why throw about the ceremony the suggestions of a sacrament? If Jesus is really to be called to a marriage, it means that the preparations for the marriage will be largely spiritual. The parties to the marriage will approach the marriage through other sacraments. They will both be members of the Church of God by baptism; and they will be, or look forward to becoming, communicants. They will prepare for the sacrament of matrimony by receiving the sacrament of penance, and receiving the communion. What better preparation for starting a new life, for setting out to create a new family in the Kingdom of God, a family in which the ideals of the life at Nazareth are to be the ruling ideals, than that cleansing of soul that fits them for the beginning of a new life? A priest has great joy when he knows that those who are kneeling before him to receive the nuptial blessing are souls pure in God's sight, dwellings ready and adorned for the coming of Christ. For it is the normal and fitting crown of the ceremonies of marriage that Jesus be there, that the Holy Mass be celebrated and that those who have just been indissolubly united may as their first act partake of the Bread of Heaven which giveth life to the world. I myself would rather not be asked to celebrate a wedding unless it is to be approached with the purity of Mary, and sealed by the partaking of Jesus. It is so great and wonderful a thing, this sacrament of matrimony. Here are two human beings setting out to fulfil the vocation of man to build up the Kingdom of God, to set up a new hearth where the love of God may be manifest and where children may be trained in the knowledge and love of God; where the life of Christ may find contact with human life and through it manifest God to the world--how wonderful and beautiful and holy all that is! And then to remember what commonly takes place is to be overcome with a sense of what must be the pain of God's heart. We go back to look into the home where Mary seems to be directing the arrangements of the wedding feast. It was a poor home and not much could be provided; the wine, so essential to the feast, failed. What was to be done? To whom would Mary look? She could have no money to buy wine. One feels that after Joseph's death she had come more and more to look to Jesus for help of all sorts. The deepening of their mutual love, the completeness of their understanding, would make this the natural thing. S. Mary feels that if there is any help in these embarrassing circumstances, any way of sparing the feelings of the bridegroom, Jesus will know it and help. There is no doubt in her mind; but the certainty that He can help. So she turns to Him with her "they have no wine." The words as we read them contain at once an appeal and a suggestion: an appeal for help, advice, guidance, with the hint that Jesus can effectually help if He will. It is not as some have rather crudely thought a suggestion that He perform a miracle, but the appeal of one who has learned to have unlimited trust in Him. The reply of our Lord cannot fail to shock the English reader; and the very nature of the shock ought to indicate that there is something wrong with the translation. The words sound brusque and ill-mannered; and our Lord was never that nor could be, least of all to His blessed Mother. The dictionaries all tell us that the word translated woman is quite as well translated lady, in the sense of mistress or house mother. There is really a shade of meaning that we have no word for. Perhaps we best understand what it is that is missed if we recall the fact that when our Lord addressed S. Mary from the Cross He used the same word: "Woman, behold thy son." In such circumstances we understand that the word on our Lord's lips is a word of infinite tenderness. I do not believe that we could do better than to translate it mother. We might paraphrase our Lord's saying thus: "Mother, we are both concerned with the trouble of these friends; but do not be anxious; I will act when the time comes." His words are perfectly simple and courteous, though they do, no doubt, suggest that her anxiety is unnecessary and that He will act in due time. If we are to understand that our Lady was suggesting that He perform a miracle, then He certainly yielded to her intercession. Indeed, this short aside in the rejoicing of the marriage celebration is suggestive of wide reaches of thought. It suggests, which concerns us most here, something of the mode of prayer. Prayer is not a force exercised upon God, it is an aspiration that He answers or not as He sees fit, according as He sees our needs to be: and if He answers, He answers in His own way and at His own time--when His hour is come. The intercession of the saints, and of the highest saint of all, the holy Mother, must thus be conceived as aspiration not as force. We hardly need to remind ourselves that Blessed Mary though the highest of creatures is still a creature and infinitely removed from the uncreated God. When we think of her prayers or the prayers of the saints as having "influence" or "power" with God, we must remember the limitations of human language. It is quite possible through inaccurate use of language to create the impression that we believe the prayers of the saints to be prevailing with God because of some peculiar spiritual energy that belongs to them, or, still worse, because we regard them as a sort of court favourites who have special influence and can get things done that ordinary people cannot. We need only to state the supposition to see that we do not mean it. When we think what we mean by the influence of the prayers of the saints, of their prevailingness with God, we know that we mean that the superior value of the prayers of the saints is due to the superior nature of their spiritual insight, to their better understanding of the mind and purpose of God. Blessed Mary is our most powerful intercessor because by her perfect sanctity she understands God better than any one else. No educated Christian believes that she can persuade God to change His mind or alter His judgment, or that she or any saint would for a moment want to do so. Nor do we who cry for aid in the end want any other aid than aid to see God's will and power to do it: we have no wish or hope to impose our will on God. Prayer is aspiration, the seeking for understanding, the submitting our desires to the love of God; and the prayer of the saints helps us because they are our brothers and sisters, of the same household, and join with us in the offering of ourselves to God that we may know and do His holy will. And we can see here in this incident at Cana the whole mode of prayer. There is the just implied suggestion of the need, the hint of her own thought about the matter, in the way in which S. Mary presents the case to Jesus. There is the divine method which approves the end sought but reserves the time and method of fulfilling it to the "hour" which the divine wisdom approves. There is the ideal Christian attitude which accepts the divine will perfectly, and says to the servants: "Whatsoever he saith unto you, do it." "They have no wine": S. Mary's word expresses the present weakness of humanity, Man is born in sin, that is, out of union with God. That hoary statement of dogmatic theology seems to stir the wrath of the modern mind more than any other dogma of the Christian Faith, except it be the dogma of eternal punishment. It is rather an amusing phenomenon that those who have no visible basis for pride are likely to be the most consumed with it. The pride of Diogenes was visible through the holes in his carpet; the pride of liberalism is visible in its irritability whenever the subject of sin, especially original sin, is mentioned. Yet the very complacency of liberalism about the perfection of man, is but another evidence (if we needed another) of his inherent sinfulness, his weakness in the face of moral ideals. If we confess our sins we are on the way to forgiveness; but if we say that we have no sin the truth is not in us. This boasting of capacity to be pure and strong without God, theologically the Pelagian heresy, is sufficiently answered by a cursory view of what humanity has done and does do. Even where the Christian religion has been accepted the accomplishment is hardly ground for boasting. The plain fact is (and you may account for it how you like, it remains in any case a fact) that human beings are terribly weak in the face of moral and spiritual ideals. They are not sufficiently drawn by them to overcome the tendency of their nature toward a quite opposite set of ideals. We do run easily and spontaneously after ideals which the calm and enlightened judgment of the race, whether Christian or non-Christian, has continuously disapproved. We know that Buddha and Mahomet and Confucius would repudiate Paris and Berlin and New York and London with the same certainty if not with the same energy as Christ. We live in a time when a decisive public opinion gets its way; and therefore we are quite safe in saying that the misery and sin which go unchecked in the very centres of modern civilisation exist and continue because there is no decided public opinion against them. All attempts at reform which are merely attempts to reform machinery are futile, they can produce only passing and superficial results. There is only one medicine for the disease of the world, and that medicine is the Blood of Christ. Ultimately, one believes, that will be applied; but evidently it will not be applied in any broad way as a social treatment till all the quack remedies have demonstrated their uselessness. The last two centuries have been the flowering time of quacks. The mere history of their theories fills volumes. Our own time shows no decline in productiveness, nor decline in hopefulness in the efficacy of the last remedy to bid for support. But the time of disillusionment must some time come. When that time comes all men will lift their eyes, as individual men have always lifted them, up to the hills whence cometh their help. Except they had kept their eyes so resolutely fastened on the earth at their feet they would have seen, what has always been visible to those who lift up their eyes, a crucified Figure on the one supreme hill of earth,--the hill called Calvary. There "one Figure stands, with outstretched hands" saying, with inextinguishable optimism, the indestructible optimism of God, "and I, if I be lifted up, will draw all men unto me." What in the end will prevail with them, what will make them turn to the Tree which is for the healing of the nations, is the perception that in it is the remedy for the weakness that they have either sought to heal by other means, or have resolutely denied to exist at all. There are men whose wills are so strong that even in the grip of some serious disease they will long go on about their business asserting that there is nothing the matter with them and overcoming bodily pain and weakness by sheer will power; but the end comes finally with a collapse that is perhaps beyond remedy. We live in a society which has the same characteristics, but it may be that it will see its state and turn to healing. For God cannot heal except with our co-operation. Christ pleads from the Cross, but he can do no more. He will not submit to our tests; He will not come down that we may believe in Him. We must come to Him, laying aside all our pride and self-will, and kneel by the Cross to ask His help. We know, do we not? that that is the law for the individual; that we found the meaning of Christ, and what He can do in life, when we laid aside pride and self-will and humbly asked help and pardon. It may be that we resisted a long while, struggling against the pull of the divine magnet; but if we have attained to spiritual peace it is because the Cross won, because we found ourselves kneeling at the feet of Jesus. Perhaps we have not got there yet, but are only on the way. Perhaps our religion as yet is a formality and not a devotion. Perhaps our pride still struggles against the Catholic practice of religion. Then why not give way now, to-night? Let Mary take you and lead you to Jesus. She will bring you to him with her half-suggestion, half-prayer: "He has no wine." He has got to the end of his strength, and he has found the weariness of self, he is ready for healing. O my divine Son, is not this your opportunity, your "hour"? Jesus loves to have us bring one another to Him. It is so obviously the response to His Spirit, that carrying out of His teaching, so to love the brother that we may bring him to the healing of the Cross. To care for the spiritual needs of the brother is a real ministry: it is an extension of Christ in us that clothes us with the power to aid other souls in work or prayer. What a beautiful picture of this work there is in the Gospel of St. John. "And there were certain Greeks among them that came up to worship at the feast: the same came therefore to Philip, which was of Bethsaida of Galilee, and desired him, saying, Sir, we would see Jesus. Philip cometh and telleth Andrew: and again Andrew and Philip tell Jesus." And this work of presenting souls to Jesus which is so clearly one of our chief privileges, how should not that be also the privilege of all the saints, and especially of the Holy Mother? Blessed Mary, we may be sure, delights in leading souls who so hesitatingly come to her, to the presence of her Son,--just presenting them in their need and with her prayer, which is all the plea that is needed to attract the love and mercy of Jesus. "Why not," ask certain people who have not thought out the meaning of Catholic dogma, "why not go at once to our Lord; why go in this roundabout way?" Why not? Because of our human qualities. Because we need company and sympathy. For the same reason precisely that makes us ask one another's prayers here. "The Father Himself loveth you." Why in this roundabout way ask me to pray? You do not come to me because you lack faith in God or in God's love; you come to me because you feel, if only implicitly, that in the Body of Christ association in love and sympathy and work is a high privilege, and that it is God's will that we should work together and "bear one another's burdens." And the frontiers of the Kingdom of God are not the frontiers of the Church Militant, and its citizens are not only the citizens of the Church here below, but--we believe in the Communion of saints. The hour of God strikes for any soul when that soul yields to prevenient grace and places itself utterly at the disposal of God, confiding wholly in His divine wisdom. When our Lord had answered His Blessed Mother she turned away satisfied. She did not have to concern herself any further; it was now in Jesus' hands to provide as He would. It remained but to see that His will should be carried out when He made it known. Submission is a difficult attitude to acquire; but it is such a happy attitude when once one has acquired it. The critics of it wholly mistake it and confound it with fatalism. It is not fatalism, or passive acquiescence in another's will--a will that we have no part in forming and cannot reject. Submission is the acceptance of God's will as the expression of the highest wisdom for us. It is not true that we have no part in forming it; it is at any time an expression of God's will for us which is determined by the way in which we hitherto have corresponded to that will. Submission means that we have put ourselves in a position of active co-operation with that will, that we have made it ours: because it is the expression of a divine wisdom and love we make it wholly ours. And we have found in the acceptance of it not bondage but liberty. It is wonderful how our preconceived notion of God and religion vanishes before the first gleams of experience. To the unregenerate the service of God is utter bondage; to the regenerate it is perfect freedom. And the difference seems to be accounted for by the reversal of ideals, by a new direction of affections. "I will run the way of thy commandments, when thou hast set my heart at liberty," A true conversion is, perhaps, signified, more than in any other way, by the liberty of the heart,--by this change in the object of our love. That has been the constant exhortation to us, to love that which is worthy of love. "Set your affection on things above." "Love not the world, neither the things that are in the world." And we, loving the world and the things that are in the world, listen impatiently. But there is no possibility of a sincere conversion without a change of love. "A change of heart" conversion is often called, and so inevitably it is. And as we go through our self-examination one of the most profitable questions we can ask is, "What do I love?" That will commonly tell the whole story of the life, for "where a man's treasure is, there will his heart be also." Richard Rolle said: "Truly he who is stirred with busy love, and is continually with Jesu in thought, full soon perceives his own faults, the which correcting, henceforward he is ware of them; and so he brings righteousness busily to birth, until he is led to God and may sit with heavenly citizens in everlasting seats. Therefore he stands clear in conscience and is steadfast in all good ways the which is never noyed with worldly heaviness nor gladdened with vainglory." CANA I O Glorious Lady, throned in light, Sublime above the starry height, Whose arms thine own creator pressed, A Suckling at thy sacred breast. Through the dear Blossom of thy womb, Thou changest hapless Eva's doom; Through thee to contrite souls is given An opening to their home in heaven. Thou art the great King's Portal bright, The shining Gate of living light; Come then, ye ransomed nations, sing The Life Divine 'twas hers to bring. Mother of Love and Mercy mild, Mother of graces undefiled. Drive back the foe, and to thy Son Lead thou our souls when life is done. All glory be to thee, O Lord, A Virgin's Son, by all adored, With Sire and Spirit, Three in One, While everlasting ages run. PART TWO CHAPTER XIV CANA II And when the wine failed, the mother of Jesus saith unto him, They have no wine. Jesus saith unto her, Woman, what have I to do with thee? mine hour is not yet come. S. John II, 3, 4. We, the faithful, bless thee, O Virgin Mother of God, and glorify thee as is thy due, the city unshaken, the wall unbroken, the unbreakable defence and refuge of our souls. BYZANTINE. "Whatsoever He saith unto you, do it." These words have often been called the Gospel according to S. Mary. They certainly sum up her whole attitude in life. "Behold the handmaid of the Lord; be it unto me according to thy word," she had said in reply to the message S. Gabriel brought her: and that is the meaning of her whole life-story, that she is at all times ready to accept the will of God, to give herself to the fulfilment of the divine purpose. There is no more perfect attitude, for it is the attitude of her divine Son whose meat it was to do the will of the Father and to finish His work, whose whole life's attitude was compressed into the words of His self-oblation in Gethsemane, "Not my will, but thine be done." And this is the virtue that Jesus Christ inculcates upon us. "When ye pray, say, Our Father which art in heaven ... thy will be done." There is no true religion possible without that attitude. And therefore one is deeply concerned about the immediate future inasmuch as the spirit of obedience, the spirit of Jesus, the spirit of Mary, is so rare. As one looks into the social development of the Christian era, one feels that the life and example of S. Mary has been of immense influence in the development of the ideal of womanhood. The rise of woman from a wholly subordinate and inferior condition to a condition of complete equality with man has owed more to S. Mary than to any other factor. I am not concerned with political equality; that under our present conditions of social development women should have that equality if they want it seems to me just, but I am by no means satisfied that in the long run it will prove a boon either to them or to society at large. But I am at present thinking of their spiritual equality, which after all is the basis of their other claims; and this comes to them through the Gospel, and was shown to the mind of the Church largely through S. Mary. In the earliest records of the Church woman stands on the same level of privilege as man, and the same sort of spiritual accomplishment is expected of her. There are many members of the Body of Christ and there is a certain spiritual equality among them; but "all members have not the same office." In the Holy Spirit's distribution of functions within the Body there is a difference. Some functions, by the allotment of God, women are not called to exercise: these are sacramental and ruling functions. Others, as prophecy (the daughters of S. Philip), and ministry (the deaconess), are given them. For centuries she recognised this allotment and gave her best energies to her appointed works. She showed herself a true daughter of Mary in her loyal acceptance of the divine will and her zeal in its accomplishment. And what was the result? The Calendar of Saints, filled with the names of women, is the answer. There are no more wonderful works of God than the women whose names are commemorated at the altars of the Church and whose intercession is constantly asked throughout Catholic Christendom. There can be no thought of narrowness of opportunity or limitations in life as we study that wonderful series of women who have illumined the history of the Church from the day of S. Gabriel's message to this very moment when there are many many women who are faithfully following their vocation and doing God's will, and who will one day be our intercessors about the throne of God and of the Lamb, as they are our intercessors in the Church on earth to-day. Why any woman should complain of lack of opportunity and of the narrowness of the Church--the Church that has nourished S. Mary and S. Monica, S. Catherine of Genoa and S. Theresa; the foundresses of so many and so varied Religious Orders, so many who have devoted their lives to teaching, nursing, conducting works of charity, I am at a loss to understand. To-day we are witnessing all over the world a revolt of women against the Church; we hear not infrequent threats of what is to be done to the Church by those revolted members. I am afraid that woman is on the edge of another tragedy. She is once more looking fascinated at the fruit which "is good for food, and pleasant to the eyes and to be desired to make one wise," and listening to a voice that whispers: "Thou shalt be as God." The question which is becoming more urgent everywhere is, What are the women of the future to be,--the daughters of Eve, or the daughters of Mary? It is not a question for declamation, but a question that calls for immediate action: and the action must be the action of women. If women clamour for work in the Church of God, here it is, and here it is abundantly; and to accomplish it there is no need that they "seek the priesthood also." The work in the Church of God is in the first place a work that God has given mothers to do; it is the primary duty of a mother to bring up her children, and especially her daughters, in fear of the Lord. That she can always succeed I do not for a moment claim; there are many adverse factors in the situation that she has to deal with. But she is inexcusable if she does not give her effort to the work as the most important work of her life. She is utterly inexcusable and must answer to God for the result if she turn her children over to the care of maids and teachers while she occupies herself with society or any exterior work. In the second place the work of the Church of God is a work that ought to appeal to all women and a work that any woman can help in. All women can help the spiritual progress of the Church by meditating upon the life of Blessed Mary and fashioning their lives upon her example. We are all tremendously affected by example, and that is especially true of young girls. Their supreme terror seems to be that they should be caught doing or saying something different from what all other girls say or do or wear. Their opinions are as imitative as their clothes. Hence the need of the pressure of a strong Christian example, which would result most readily in the union of Christian women in a single ideal. Our present difficulty is that so many of our women who are devout members of the Church in their private capacity, so far succumb to the group-mind in their social relations that they are possessed by the same terror as the young girl in the face of the possibility of being different. Therefore are they careful to hide their real feeling for religion and their devotion to spiritual things under the mask of worldly conformity which evacuates their example of much of the power that it might have. I am quite convinced that fear of the world is about as strong an impulse toward evil as love of the world. We need that women should clear their ideals and realise their public responsibility for the presentation of them. We need terribly at this moment insistence on the purity and simplicity of the Holy Mother of God. One is stunned at the abandonment of the ideal of reserve and modesty that the last few years have seen. Women seem to take it quite gaily: men, one notes, take it much more seriously. I have been consulted by more than one father during the past year as to the possibility of sending a boy to a school where he would be kept out of the society of half-naked girls. Have mothers no longer any sense of the value of purity? Or have they simply abandoned all responsibility that normally goes with being a mother? One recognises how helpless a man is under the circumstances, that his intervention in such matters simply casts him for the part of family tyrant; but why should a mother abandon her duty simply because her daughter says: "You don't understand. Girls are not as they were when you were young. All the girls do this. No other mother takes the line that you do. You are not modern." One knows, of course, that the whole matter of decline in manners and morals is but a part of the world-wide revolt against the morality of Jesus Christ that we are witnessing everywhere. Social and religious teachers, students of history and social movements have seen the approach of this revolt for a long time, have been watching its rise and growth. When they have pointed out the end of the path that we have been travelling, they have been disposed of by calling them pessimists. These "pessimists" pointed out long ago that the denial of the obligation to believe would be followed by an abandonment of all moral standards. They pointed out to the devotees of "liberal religion" that they are in reality the leaders of a moral revolt, that if it does not make any difference what you believe it will soon come to make no difference what you do. It is a rather silly performance to blow up the dam which holds back the mass of water of an irrigation system and imagine that no more water will flow out than you want to flow out. When the Protestant revolt blew up the restraining dams of the Catholic Religion they had no right to expect that only so much denial of Catholic truth as it suited them to dispense with would be the result. Through the broken dams the whole religion of Christ has been flowing out and it is mere empty pretence to claim that all that is of any value is left. It is impossible to maintain anything of the sort now that all the moral content of the Christian system is openly thrown overboard by vast numbers of the population of the world, in every country that claims to be civilised. It is useless to say that there has always been evil in the world and that the maintenance of the Catholic religion has never anywhere abolished sin. That is true, but it is not to the present point. The social situation is one where there are definite religious and moral ideals strongly maintained and universally recognised, though there are many men and women who violate them; it is quite another situation when the ideals themselves are repudiated and set aside as superstitions. That is our case to-day. The Christian theory is confronted with a theory of naturalism in morals, and those who follow that theory do not do so with a feeling that they are violating accepted ideals, but with the assumption that they are missionaries setting forth a new faith. Those who have revolted from the Kingdom of God have now set up another kingdom and proclaimed openly, "We will not have this Man to reign over us." The revolt which began with a breach in the dogmatic system of the Church and denial of the authority of the Catholic Church in favour of the right of private judgment, has ended, as it could not help but end, in open abandonment of the life-ideal of the Gospels. We now have the application of the right of private judgment in the theory that one's morals are one's own concern. Such things have happened before. "In those days there was no king in Israel, but every one did what was right in his own eyes." The social state depicted in the Book of Judges reflects this revolt. The result of the same repudiation of authority is seen in modern society where what is right in one's own eyes is the whole Law and Gospel. Are we to remain quiescent, or are we to make the attempt to generate moral force? But how can Christendom generate any more moral force? The teaching of the Gospel which it proclaims is perfectly plain. True, but is the adherence of the Church to its statements perfectly plain? Is there no falling away, no compromise, there? When one speaks thus of the Church one is conscious of a confusion of thought in the use of the word. The teaching of the formal documents of the Church is not here in question; what we necessarily mean is the effect that the existing membership of the Church is having upon contemporary life. What we have especially in mind is the attitude of the clergy and the action of the congregation in the way of moral force. What sort of a front is the church presenting to the world, what sort of moral influence is it exercising? It seems to me perfectly evident that all along the line the conventions of contemporary society have been accepted in the place of the life-ideals of the Gospel of Jesus. We have accepted plain departures from or compromises with Christian teaching as the recognised law of action. This is due largely to the natural sloth of the human being and his disinclination to struggle for superior standards. He feels safe and comfortable if he can succeed in losing himself in a crowd: thus he escapes both trouble and criticism. A violation of law may become so common that there is no public spirit to oppose it. The same thing may happen in morals,--violations of the Christian standard, if sufficiently widespread, command almost universal acquiesence. What is actually uncovered in the process is the fact that the plain man has no morals of his own, but imitates the prevailing morality; and if fashion sets against some particular ruling of the Christian Religion he feels quite secure in following the fashion. The _vox dei_ in Holy Scripture and in Holy Church affect him not at all if he be conscious that he is on the side of the _vox populi_. It is easy to illustrate this. The non-Catholic Christian world has the Bible, and boasts of its adherence to it as the sole guide of life; but in the matter of divorced persons it utterly disregards its teachings. By this acceptance of an unchristian attitude it has vastly weakened the fight for purity in the family relation which the Catholic Church, at least in the West, has always waged. It deliberately divides the Christian forces of the community and to a large extent thereby nullifies their action. The divisions of Christendom are terrible from every point of view; but there are certain questions on which a united mind might well be presented, and in relation to which an united mind would go far to control the attitude of society. An united Christian sentiment against divorce would go far to reduce the evil. On the other hand the progress of the movement to abolish the evils growing out of the use of alcohol has had its strength in the Protestant bodies. On the whole (there were no doubt individual exceptions) the Churches of the Catholic tradition have been lukewarm in the matter. It is quite evident that the reform could never have been carried through if left to them, and especially if left to the bishops and clergy of the Roman and Anglican Communions. It is a plain case of failure to support a vast moral reform because of the pressure of opinion in the social circles in which they move, combined with a purely individualistic attitude toward a grave social question. Another instance is ready at hand in the practical abandonment of the religious observance of Sunday. To Christians Sunday is the Lord's day, and is to be observed as such. It is not true that an hour in the morning is the Lord's day, and is to be given to worship, and that the rest of the day is given to us to do what we will with. But in our own Communion do we get any strong protest in favour of the sanctity of the day? Or are not the clergy compromising in the hope that if they surrender the greater part of the day to the world they will be able to save an hour or two for God? But is anything actually saved by this sort of compromise? Do we not know that the encroachments of worldliness that have narrowed down Sunday observance to an hour a day will ultimately demand that hour, that is, will deny any obligation other than the obligation of inclination? Are we not bound to stand by the Lord's day? Are we to be made lax by silly talk about puritanism? Those who talk about the "Puritan Sunday" would do well to read a little of the Medieval legislation of the Church. Are we to keep silent in the pulpit because wealthy and influential members of the congregation want to play golf and tennis on Sunday afternoons, or children want to play ball or go to the movies? Are we to be taken in by talk of hard work during the week and consequent need of rest? It is no doubt well that a man should arrange his work with a view to an adequate amount of rest; but it is also well that he should rest in his own time and not in God's. The Lord's day is not a day of rest. It ought to be, and is intended to be, a very strenuous day indeed. One could easily spend hours in pointing out where and how the Gospel standard of life has been abandoned or compromised, and the life of the Christian in consequence conformed to the world. The result would only strengthen the position that has been already sufficiently indicated that a wholly different standard of living has been quietly substituted throughout the Western world for the standard that is contained in Holy Scripture. Now we are either bound to be Christians or we are not; and we are not Christians solely by virtue of certain beliefs more or less loosely held. Our Lord's word is: "Ye are my friends if ye do whatsoever I command you." And the Gospel view of life is a perfectly plain one, and is as far removed from the common life of Christians to-day as it possibly can be. The Gospel conception of the Christian life is contained first of all in our Lord's life. That is the perfect human life; and the New Testament optimism is well illustrated by its conviction that that life in its essential features can, with the grace of God, be imitated by man. And by those who have approached it in this spirit of optimism it has been found imitable. Innumerable men and women have lived the Christian life in the past and are living it in the present. To-day the possibility of living the Christian life, of bringing life approximately to the standard of the Gospel, is declared to be an impracticable piece of optimism, and our Lord's teaching hopelessly out of touch with reality. When people talk of the difficulty of living the Christ-life under modern conditions, the plain answer is that there is in fact only one difficulty in the matter, and that is the difficulty of wanting to do it. It is a confession of utter spiritual incompetence to say that we cannot follow the Gospel standards under modern conditions because of the isolation in which we at once find ourselves if we attempt it. If the attempt to be a Christian isolates us, it tells a pretty plain tale about our chosen companionship. It is asserting that it is hard for us to be Christians because we are devoted to the society of those who are not Christians, of those who ignore it and habitually insult the teachings of our Saviour. That is surely an extraordinary confession for a Christian to make! Can we imagine a Christian of the first period of the Church excusing himself for offering incense to the divinity of Augustus on the ground that if he did not do so certain court festivities would be closed to him, and that his friends would think him odd! "Ye are my friends if ye do whatsoever I command you," "The friendship of this world is enmity with God." We have to choose. It is not that we may choose. It is not that it is possible to have a little of both. As Christians it is quite impossible in any real sense to have the friendship of the world, though many Christians think that they can. What really is open to us is the enmity of the world if we are sincere and strict in our profession, and the contempt of the world if we are not. You have not to read very deep in contemporary literature to learn what the world thinks about the Christian who ignores or compromises his standards. The world knows perfectly well what constitutes a Christian life, and it shows a well merited scorn of those who, not having the courage openly to abandon it, yet show by their lives that they do not value it. We may not show the same sort of contempt for the "weak brother" as S. Paul calls him, but we ought to make it plain that we have no sort of approval of the brother who pleads weakness as an excuse for laxity. There is one law of life and only one; and that is summed up in our Lady's direction to the servants at Cana in Galilee: "Whatsoever he saith unto you, do it." There is no ground for pleading that our Lord's will is an obscure will, or that circumstances have so changed that much that He set forth in word and example has no application to-day in the America of the twentieth century. Perhaps if any one feels that there is some truth in the last statement, he would do well to examine the case and to find out just what and how much of the Gospel teaching is obsolete, and how much has contemporary application, and to ask himself whether he is constantly putting in action that part which he thinks still holds good. It will, I think, on examination be found that none of our Lord's teaching is obsolete, though in some cases changed circumstances may have changed its mode of application. Certainly there is nothing obsolete in His teaching in the matter of purity. The virtues that He dwells upon--humility, meekness and the rest--are universal qualities on which time and social change have no effect. What Christian conduct needs on our part is interest. We have to make clear to ourselves that a certain kind of life is like the life of God, and therefore is the medium for understanding God, and ultimately for enjoying God. The Christian life is not an arbitrary thing; it is the highest expression of humanity. Any other life is a distortion of the human ideal. People talk as though they thought that by the arbitrary will of God they were obliged to be good--a thing wholly contrary to our nature and to our present interests. But goodness is the natural unfolding of our nature as God made it: we find our true expression in the likeness of God. Perfection is what nature aspires to. Religion is not a curb on nature; religion is a help to enable nature to express itself. Nature reaches its perfect expression when by the grace of God it becomes godlike. And the words of Christ are our guide to the perfect expression of our best. Therefore the earnest Christian is willing to give time to the careful study of them, and of the whole ideal of life that is contained in them. He is not concerned with what they will cut him off from; he is concerned with that to which they will admit him. He is concerned to find the meaning of Christ's teaching. This that S. Paul says is fundamental is his rule of life: "Be not conformed to this world: but be ye transformed by the renewing of your mind, that ye may prove what is that good, and acceptable, and perfect, will of God." Of one that is so fayr and bright _Velut maris stella_, Brighter than the day is light, _Parens et puella_; I crie to thee, thou see to me, Levedy, preye thi Sone for me, _Tam pia_, That I mote come to thee _Maria_. Al this world was for-lore _Eva peccatrice_, Tyl our Lord was y-bore _De te genetrice_. With _Ave_ it went away Thuster nyth and comz the day _Salutis_; The welle springeth ut of the, _Virtutis_. Levedy, flour of alle thing, _Rosa sine spina_, Thu here Jhesu, hevene king, _Gratia divina_; Of alle thu ber'st the pris, Levedy, quene of paradys _Electa_: Mayde milde, moder _es Effecta_. PART TWO CHAPTER XV WHO IS MY MOTHER? Whosoever shall do the will of my Father which is in heaven, the same is my brother, and sister, and mother, S. Matt. XII, 50. Grant, we beseech thee, almighty God, that we may keep with an immaculate heart the sacrament which we have received in honour of the blessed virgin mother Mary; so that we who celebrate her feast now, may be found worthy when we have left this life to pass into her company. Through &c. SARUM MISSAL. Our Blessed Lord had begun his ministry of preaching. The mark of the early days of that preaching was success. Crowds came about Him wherever He taught. The fact that there were frequent miracles of healing no doubt added to the popularity that He achieved. It was largely the popularity of a new and strange movement, of a preaching cutting across the normal roads of instruction to which the Jewish people were accustomed. There was a fascination about its form, its picturesque way of conveying its meaning, its use of the parable drawn from the everyday circumstances of life. There was nothing of hesitation in the words of the new Preacher, but the ring of a dogmatic certainty. "He taught as one having authority, and not as the scribes." He pushed aside the rulings of the traditional teaching with His, "Ye have heard it said ... but I say." "Verily, verily, I say unto you." And yet there are people who tell us that there was nothing dogmatic about our Lord and His teaching! One would infer from much that is written upon the subject of our Lord's teaching that He was a very mild giver of good advice but evidently the Scribes and Pharisees did not think so. They saw in Him a man who was setting himself to undermine their whole authority. This popularity was at a high point when an interesting event happened of which we have an account in the first of the Gospels. "His mother and His brethren stood without, desiring to speak with Him." One gathers from the whole tone of the narrative that they were anxious about Him, that they looked with doubt upon this career of popular teacher that He was launched upon and felt that He was going too far. He needed advice and restraint, perhaps; it may be that there were already reports of possible interference by the national authorities. The fact that His "brethren" were present suggests the well meant interference of the older members of the family, who must always have thought Jesus rather strange. That they had induced His mother to come with them makes us think that they were counting on the influence naturally hers, an influence which must always have been apparent in their family relations. So we reconstruct the incident. No doubt S. Mary herself was anxious. She must always have been anxious as to what would be the next step in the development of her mysterious Child. And while there was one side of her relation to Jesus which would always have run out into mystery, the mystery of the as yet unrevealed will of God; on the other side she was no doubt a very real normal human mother, with all a mother's anxiety and need of constant intervention in the life of her Child. I do not suppose that S. Mary, any more than any other mother, ever understood that her Son had grown up and could be trusted to conduct the ordinary affairs of the day without her help. She was no doubt as much concerned as any mother with the fact that His feet might be wet, or that He might not have had any lunch, or that he might have got run over by a passing chariot, or have been taken mysteriously ill. It was, we may think, this mother-attitude which brought her along with the brethren to give some advice as to how to carry on the preaching mission and avoid getting into trouble with the religious authorities. "One said unto him, Behold, thy mother and thy brethren stand without, desiring to speak with thee. But he answered and said unto him that told him, Who is my mother? and who are my brethren? And he stretched forth his hand toward his disciples, and said, Behold my mother and my brethren! For whosoever shall do the will of my Father which is in heaven, the same is my mother, and my sister, and my brother." Our Lord had a way of turning the passing incidents of the moment to account in His preaching, making them the texts of moral and spiritual teaching. One gathers that more than one of the parables and parabolic sayings was suggested by something that was before the eyes of His hearers. He was quick to seize any spoken word, any question, any exclamation, and to turn it to immediate account. It was so now. The report that His mother and His brethren were seeking Him, He made the occasion of a statement of vast import. When we try to think it out, it was not in the least, as it has been perversely understood, an impatient rebuff of an untimely interference, an indication that He did not care for their intervention in a work that they did not understand. There is really nothing of all that, but a seizing of a passing incident as the medium of an universal truth. It is the skill of one who knows that the human attention is caught by a matter, however trifling, which is vividly present. The scene is sharply defined for us: our Lord interrupted in His talk; the report of the mother and the brethren seeking Him; the obvious interest of the people as to how He will take their intervention; and then the rapid seizing of this interest to make His declaration: "Whosoever shall do the will of my Father which is in heaven, the same is my mother, and my sister, and my brother." And what are we to understand Him to mean? Surely He is declaring that through the revelation of God that He is, there is a new stage in God's work for man being entered upon, and that this new stage will be characterised by the emergence of a new set of relations, relations so important that they throw into the background the ordinary relations of life. He is proclaiming to them the advent of the Kingdom of God; and in that Kingdom, the service of God will be put first, before all human relations. It will not be antagonistic to human relations; indeed, it will hallow them and raise them to a higher level; but in case they, as not infrequently they will, decline to adjust themselves to the work of the Kingdom, or set themselves in opposition to it, then will they be brushed aside, no matter what they be. If we can consecrate our human relations and bring them into God, then will they be ours still with a vast enrichment and a rare spiritual beauty; but if they remain selfish, insist on absorbing all attention and energy, then they must be broken. The love of father and mother and children is an holy thing wherever we find it, but it is capable of becoming a selfish and perverse thing, insistent upon its own ends and declining wider responsibilities. In that case it must be regarded from the standpoint of a higher good: if it stand in the path of the Kingdom it must be swept aside. So our Lord declared in one of the most searching of His utterances; one of the utterances which we feel could come only from the lips of God: "Think not that I am come to send peace on earth: I came not to send peace, but a sword. For I am come to set a man at variance against his father, and the daughter against her mother, and the daughter-in-law against her mother-in-law. And a man's foes shall be those of his own household. He that loveth father or mother more than me is not worthy of me: and he that loveth son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me." That is the teaching of the incident before us. Our Lord's primary mission is to declare the will of God, and to make known the mind of the Father to all who will heed. Their acceptance of this will of the Father will bring them into a new relation to Him more important than, and transcending, all relations of flesh and blood. But--and this is important to mark--it does not exclude relations of flesh and blood; but it demands that they shall be put on a new basis and be assimilated to the higher relation. In our Lord's case they were in fact so assimilated. The blessed Mother and the brethren did not resist God's will when they came to understand it. They were, we know, glad of the higher relation, the new privilege. There is no ground at all for the suggestion of any breach between them. They are of the inner circle always in the Kingdom of the regenerate. This fundamental truth of Christ's teaching, that through Him a new and closer relation to the Father becomes possible, and that the Kingdom is its embodiment, is one of the truths which have received constant lip-service, but have never been really assimilated in the working life of the Church. That the Church is the Body of Christ and we His members, and that by virtue of this membership in Him we are also members one of another; that we are, at our entrance into the Kingdom, made, as the Catechism puts it, members of Christ, children of God, and heirs of the kingdom of Heaven are truths of most marvellous reach and of splendid social implications. But can we say that they have very wide or real acknowledgment? In face of a divided Christendom it seems almost farcical to talk of a Christian Brotherhood. The baptismal membership of the Church of God has fallen into group organisations whose mutual antagonism is of the bitterest kind. The so-called "religious press" is perhaps the saddest picture of modern Christian life. One could name a half dozen journals off hand, organs of this or that group, every one a sufficient refutation of the claim of the Christian Religion to be a Brotherhood of the Redeemed. There is no possible excuse for the tone of such publications. No doubt it is an inevitable result of the state of a divided Christendom that there should be disputes and controversies. We shall never reach any expression of the Brotherhood that is the Church by saying, Peace, Peace, where there is no Peace. The unity we look to must be reached through painful sacrifice and through conflict; and we know that the wisdom that is from above is "first pure, and then peaceable," But it is quite possible while holding with all firmness to the truth, to hold it in the fear and love of God. So long as Christendom is thus divided into hostile camps the ideal of brotherhood is impossible of realisation. I do not want however to discuss this matter from the point of view of Church unity. I want to point out that within the groups themselves there is small vision of the meaning of the oneness of Christ. For brotherhood is the expression of a spiritual reality. It looked for a moment in the early days of the Church as though the ideal would be realised. The description of the Church was that "all that believed were together, and had all things in common: and sold their possessions and goods, and parted them to all men, as every man had need." That was, no doubt, a passing phase of the life of the Church in Jerusalem, but we have evidence that elsewhere all distinctions based upon social considerations were for the moment swept away. There is "neither Jew nor Greek, there is neither bond nor free, there is neither male nor female: for ye are all one in Christ Jesus." Our glimpses of the congregations of the early Church are of men and women of all classes held together by the bond of a common membership in Christ, so strongly felt as to enable them to forget all worldly distinctions. Their sense of redemption was strong. They thrilled with the joy of deliverance from the old life "after the flesh." They knew that they were regenerate, new creations, and that this was the distinction of the brother who knelt beside them at their communions. It mattered not at all what he was in the world, whether he were Greek or Barbarian, whether he were patrician or freedman, whether he were of the slaves of Rome or of Caesar's household. The man who knelt to receive his communion might be a great nobleman, the priest who communicated him might be a slave: that did not matter; the significant thing was that they were both one in Jesus Christ. That did not last. I suppose that it could not be expected to last in an unconverted or half converted world. It could only last on condition of the fairly complete isolation of the Christian group from the rest of society, pending the conversion of society as a whole. But it proved impossible to secure the isolation. The only real isolation was in monastic groups which naturally could contain only such men and women as God called to a special sort of life: the whole of society could not be so organised. As the Church grew and took in the various social constituents included in the Empire, it took them in differentiated as they were. There seems to have been no real effort to break down race distinctions or class distinctions. There were no doubt protests, but the protests were as ineffective then as now. "You cannot change human nature," men say; but that in fact is precisely what Christianity claims to do. Unless it can change human nature it is a failure. The ideal of Christianity is not the abolition of inequality (only a certain sort of social theorists are insane enough to expect that). All men are born unequal in a variety of ways, physical, intellectual, moral; and under any form of society that so far has been invented they are born in social classes which remain very hard realities in spite of our theories. What Christianity aims at accomplishing is to transcend these inequalities, natural and artificial, by raising men to a state of spiritual equality, a state which ensures true and full enjoyment of all the privileges of the child of God. In this state there is open to all the gift of sanctifying grace which is the possession of God now, and in the future will unfold into the capacity of the complete participation of the life of heaven. This belongs to, is within the grasp of, any child, any ignorant peasant, any toiler, as much as it is within the grasp of bishop or priest or Religious. And this much--and how much it is!--the Church has succeeded in accomplishing. It may be slow in offering the riches of the Gospel to the unconverted world, but where it has presented the Gospel, it presents it to all men as a Gospel of salvation and sanctification. When tempted to discouragement let us remember that whatever the shortcoming of the Church, it is yet true that every man, woman and child in these United States of America can through its instrumentality, become a saint whenever he desires. But, naturally, to become a saint, effort is necessary. Where the Church has failed is not in the offer of salvation and sanctity, but in removing some of of the obvious obstacles to its attainment by many to whom it appeals, to whom its divine mission is. It has not succeeded in convincing us that we are members one of another, that is, it has not succeeded in persuading us to act upon what we profess in any broad way. The Church is not a fellowship in any comprehensive sense. The divisions which run through secular society and divide group from group run through it also. The parish which should be the exemplification of the Christian brotherhood in action is not so. Too often a parish is known as the parish of a certain social group. There are parishes to which people go to get "into society." Very likely they do not succeed, but that is the sort of impression that the parish membership has made upon them. Then there are parishes to which people "in society" would not be transferred. There are churches in which no poor person would set foot, not that they would be unwelcome, but that they would feel out of place. So long as such things are true, our practice of brotherhood has not much to commend of it. And when we go about setting things right I am not sure that we do not mostly make them worse. I do not believe that it is the business of the Church to set about the abolition of inequalities and the getting rid of the distinctions between man and man. Apart from the waste of time due to attempting the impossible, what would be gained? Pending the arrival of the social millenium we need to do something; and that something, it seems to me a mistake to assume must be social. "We must bring people together": but what is gained by bringing people together when they do not want to be together, and will not actually get together when you force them into proximity. There is nothing more expressive of the failure of well-meant activity than a church gathering where people at once group themselves along the familiar lines and decline to mix, notwithstanding the utmost endeavours of clergy and zealous ladies to bring them together. The thing is an object lesson of wrong method. Is there a right method? There must be, though no one seems to have found it yet. There is in any case a right point of departure in our common membership in Jesus Christ. Suppose we drop the supposition that we make, I presume because we think it pious, that if they are both Christians a dock labourer ought to be quite at home at a millionaire's dinner party, or a scrub-woman in a box at the Metropolitan opera house. Suppose we drop the attempt to force people together on lines which will be impossible till after the social revolution has buried us all in a common grave, and fasten attention on the one fact that, from our present point of view, counts, the fact that we are Christians. Suppose one learns to meet all men and all women simply on the basis of their religion; when that forms the bond that unites us when we come together, we have at once common grounds of interest in the life and activities of the Body of Christ. Suppose the millionaire going down town in his motor sees his clerk walking and stops and picks him up, and instead of talking constrainedly about the weather or about business, he begins naturally to talk to him about spiritual matters. Why could they not talk about the Mission that has just been held, or the Quiet Day that is in prospect? One great trouble, is it not? is that we fight shy of talking to our fellow-Christians of the interests that we really have in common and try to put intercourse on some other ground where we have little or nothing in common. The things that should, and probably do, vitally interest us, we decline to talk about at all. We are so stiff and formal and restrained in all matter of personal religious experience that we are unable to express the fact of Christian Brotherhood. The fact that you smile at the presentment of the case, that you cannot even imagine yourself talking about your spiritual experience with your clerk or your employer, shows how far you are from a truly Christian conception of Brotherhood. Our Lord's words that we are making our subject indicate the paramount importance that He laid upon the acceptance of God's will as the ultimate rule of life. "Whosoever shall do the will of My Father which is in heaven, the same is my mother, and my sister, and my brother." "Ye are my friends, if ye do whatsoever I command you." That is the common ground on which we are all invited to stand, the ground of a common loyalty to God, of intense zeal for the cause of God. Our Lord gave His whole life to that cause. As His disciples watched Him on an occasion, they remembered that it was written: "The zeal of thine house hath eaten me up." Zeal is not a very popular quality because it is always disturbing the equanimity and self-complacency of lukewarm people. And then, we dislike to be thought fanatics. But I fancy that there will always be a touch of the fanatic about any very zealous Christian, and it is not worth while to suppress our zeal for fear of the world's judgment upon it. What we have to avoid is the misdirection of zeal. There is, no doubt, a zeal which is "not according to knowledge." We need to be sure, in other words, that our zeal is a zeal for God, and not a zeal for party or person or cause. It is no doubt quite easy to imagine that we are seeking to do God's will when we are merely seeking to impose on our own will. Self-seeking is quite destructive of the friendship and service of God. The Kingdom whose interests we are attempting to forward may turn out to be a Kingdom in which we expect to sit on the right hand or the left of the throne because of the brilliance of the service rendered. Life is simplified very much when the will of God thus becomes its guiding principle, and all other relations of life are subordinated to our relation to our heavenly Father. Then have we brought life to that complete simplicity which is near akin to peace. When we have learned in deciding any line of action not to think what our neighbours and friends will feel, or what the world will think, but only what God will think, we have little difficulty in making up our minds. Suppose that a boy has to make up his mind whether he will study for the priesthood, the vital thing on which to concentrate his thought and prayer is whether God is calling him to that life, and if he is convinced that he is being called the whole question should be settled. In fact in most cases it is far from being settled because this simplicity has not been attained. There is a whole social circle to be dealt with, who urge the hardness of the life, the scant reward, the greater advantages of a business career, and so on; all of which have absolutely nothing to do with the question to be decided. It is so all through life. In most questions of life's decisions, no doubt, there is no sense of any vocation at all, of a determining will of God; but is not that because we assume that God has no will in such matters, and leaves us free to follow our own devices? Such an assumption is hardly justified in the case of One to Whom the fall of a sparrow is a matter of interest. It is our weakness, or the sign of our spiritual incompetence, that we have unconsciously removed the greater part of life from the jurisdiction of the divine will. We do not habitually think of God as interested in the facts of daily experience; we do not take Him with us into offices and factories. Perhaps we think that they are hardly fit places for God, and I have no doubt that He has many things to suffer there. But He is there, and will suffer, until we recognise His right there, and insist upon His there being supreme. Let us go back for a moment to Our Lady standing outside the place where Jesus was preaching, perplexed and worried at the course He was taking. I suppose that it is always easier to surrender ourselves unreservedly into God's hands than it is to so surrender some one we love. I suppose that S. Mary so trusted in God that she never thought with anxiety of what His providence was preparing for her; but she would not quite take that attitude about her Son; or rather, while she did intellectually, no doubt, take that attitude, her feelings never went the whole distance that her mind went. But surrender to the will of God means complete surrender of ourself and ours. It means absolute confidence in God, it means lying quiet in his arms, as the child lies still in the arms of his mother. It means that we trust God. Rose-Mary, Sum of virtue virginal, Fresh Flower on whom the dew of heaven downfell; O Gem, conjoined in joy angelical, In whom rejoiced the Saviour was to dwell: Of refuge Ark, of mercy Spring and Well, Of Ladies first, as is of letters A, Empress of heaven, of paradise and hell-- Mother of Christ, O Mary, hail, alway. O Star, that blindest Phoebus' beams so bright, With course above the empyrean crystalline; Above the sphere of Saturn's highest height, Surmounting all the angelic orders nine; O Lamp, that shin'st before the throne divine, Where sounds hosanna in cherubic lay, With drum and organ, harp and cymbeline-- Mother, of Christ, O Mary, hail, alway, O Cloister chaste of pure virginity, That Christ hath closed 'gainst crime for evermo'; Triumphant Temple of the Trinity, That didst the eternal Tartarus o'erthrow; Princess of peace, imperial Palm, I trow, From thee our Samson sprang invict in fray; Who, with one buffet, Belial hath laid low-- Mother of Christ, O Mary, hail, alway, Thy blessed sides the mighty Champion bore, Who hath, with many a bleeding wound in fight, Victoriously o'erthrown the dragon hoar That ready was his flock to slay and smite; Nor all the gates of hell him succour might, Since he that robber's rampart brake away, While all the demons trembled at the sight-- Mother of Christ, O Mary, hail, alway, O Maiden meek, chief Mediatrix for man, And Mother mild, full of humility, Pray to thy Son, with wounds that sanguine ran, Whereby for all our trespass slain was he. And since he bled his blood upon a tree, 'Gainst Lucifer, our foe, to be our stay, That we in heaven may sing upon our knee-- Mother of Christ, O Mary, hail, alway, Hail, Pearl made pure; hail, Port of paradise; Hail, Ruby, redolent of rays to us; Hail, Crystal clear, Empress and Queen, hail thrice; Mother of God, hail, Maid exalted thus; O Gratia plena, tecum Dominus; With Gabriel that we may sing and say, Benedicta tu in mulieribus-- Mother of Christ, O Mary, hail, alway. William Dunbar, XV-XVI. Cents. PART TWO CHAPTER XVI HOLY WEEK I Then all the disciples forsook him and fled. S. Matt. XXVI, 56. Through the intercession of the Holy Mother of God, accept, O Lord, our prayers and save us. May the Holy Mother of God and all the saints be our intercessors with the Heavenly Father, that He may deign to be merciful to us, and in pity save His creatures. Lord God all-powerful! save us and have mercy upon us. Through the intercession of the Holy Mother of God, the Immaculate Mother of Thine only Son, and through the prayers of all the saints, receive, O Lord, our supplications; hear us, O Lord, and have mercy upon us; pardon us, bear with us, and blot out our sins, and make us worthy to glorify Thee, together with Thy Son and the Holy Ghost, now and ever, world without end. Amen. Armenian. We try to see our Lord's passion through the eyes of His Blessed Mother. We feel that all through Holy Week she must have been in direct touch with the experiences of our Lord. Her outlook would have been that of the Apostolic circle the record of which we get in the Gospels. Our Lord's ministry had showed a period of popularity during which it must have seemed to those closest to Him that they were moving rapidly to success; and then, after the day at Caeserea Phillipi, when His Messianic claims had been acknowledged, they would have been filled with enthusiasm for the mission the meaning of which was now defined. Then came a period of disappointment. Our Lord declined to become a popular leader, and by the nature of His preaching, the demands that He made upon those who were inclined to support Him lost popularity till it was a question to be considered whether the very Apostles would not desert Him. Then came the flash of renewed enthusiasm which is evidenced by the Palm Sunday entry, bringing, no doubt, renewed hopes to those nearest our Lord who seem to have been utterly unable to accept the view of His failure and death that He kept before them. But the hope vanished as quickly as it was roused. In less than a week the rejoicing group of Sunday followed Him from the Upper Chamber to the shades of Gethsemane. The betrayal, the trial, the end, come quickly on. This to S. Mary was the piercing of the sword through the very heart. These were the days when the meaning of close association with Incarnate God, with God Who was pursuing a mission of rescue, came out. The mission of the Son for the Redemption of man meant submitting to the extremity of insult and torture, and it meant that those who were closest associated with Him should be caught into the circle of His pain. As our Lord was displaying the best of which humanity is capable, so was He calling out the worst of which it is capable. These last days of the life of Jesus show where man can be led when he surrenders himself to the dominion of the Power of Evil and becomes the servant of sin. The triumph of demoniac malice through its instruments, the Roman governor, the Jewish authorities, of necessity swept over all who were related to our Lord. The storm scattered the Apostolic group and left the Christ to face His trial alone. Yet not alone: He himself tells us the truth. "Behold the hour cometh, yea, is now come, that ye shall be scattered, every man to his own, and shall leave me alone: and yet I am not alone, because the Father is with me." It was what the Prophet had foreseen: "All ye shall be offended because of me this night: for it is written, I will smite the shepherd, and the sheep shall be scattered." We do not know where S. Mary was during these days, but we are sure that she was as near our Lord as it was possible for her to be. We know that her own thought would be of the possibility of ministering to Him. We know that she would not have fled with the Apostles in their momentary panic. She was at the Cross, and she was at the grave, and she would have been as near Him in the agony and the trial as it was possible for her to be. And she too was in agony. Every pang of our Lord found echo in her. Every blow that fell upon His bleeding back, she too felt. Every insult that the soldiers inflicted, hurt her. Our Lord in the consciousness of His mission is constantly sustained by the thought that His Passion and Death is an offering to the will of the Father,--an offering even for these miserable men who are brutally treating a man whom they know to be innocent. Her sorrow is the utter desolation of seeing the One Whom she loves above all else suffer, while she can bear Him no alleviation in His suffering, cannot so much as wipe the blood from off His wounded brow, cannot even touch His hand, and look her love into His eyes. She follows from place to place while our Lord is being hustled from Caiaphas to Pilate and from Pilate to Herod and back again; from time to time hearing from some one who has succeeded in getting nearer, how the trial is going on, what the accusation is, how Jesus is bearing Himself, what answers He has made, what the authorities have said. Once and again, it may be, catching a distant glimpse of Him as He is led about by the guards, seeing Him always more worn and weary, always nearer the point of collapse. Herself, too, nearer collapse; yet going on still with that strength that love gives to mothers, determined at the cost of any suffering to be near Him, as near as she can be, till the very end. So we see her on that day in the streets of Jerusalem, and think of the distance travelled since the morning when Gabriel said to her, wondering: "Hail thou that art highly favoured.... Blessed art thou among women." We, too, follow. We have so often followed, with the Gospel in our hands, and wondered at the method of God. We have tried hour after hour to penetrate the meaning of the Passion, to find what personal message it brings, to discover what light it throws on our own lives. We have gone out into Gethsemane and placed ourselves with the three chosen Apostles while our Lord went on to pray by Himself; and we have discovered in ourselves the same weariness, the same tendency to sleep, in the presence of what we tell ourselves is the most important of all interests. We call up the scene under the olives, and find that we wander and are inattentive and idle when we most want to be attentive and alert. We place ourselves in the group that surrounds our Lord when the soldiers, led by Judas, come, and ask ourselves shall I too run away? And our memory flashes the answer: You have run away again and again: you have in the face, not of grave dangers, but of insignificant trifles--how insignificant they look now--for fear of criticism, for fear of being thought odd, for fear of the opinion of worldly companions, for fear of being pitied or laughed at, over and over again you have run away. The things that seemed important when they were present seem pitifully insignificant in the retrospect. We follow out of the garden to the meeting-place of the Sanhedrin, to the Judgment seat of Pilate, to the palace of Herod. Any impulse to criticise S. Peter is speedily suppressed: we have denied so often under such trifling provocation. S. Peter was frightened from participation in the act of our Lord's sacrifice through mortal fear of his life. We have stayed away from the offering of the Holy Sacrifice, how often! from mere sloth, from disinclination to effort, from the fact that our participation would prevent us from joining in some act of worldly amusement. S. Peter, following to the high Priest's palace to see the end, looks heroic beside our frivolity. We follow through the details of the trial, we go to Herod's palace and see the brutal treatment of our Lord, and we remember of these men that their conduct was founded in ignorance. We do not for a moment believe that they would have spit upon our Lord and buffeted Him, and crowned Him with a crown of thorns, if they had believed that He was God. But we believe that He is God. Our desertion of Him when we sin, our contempt of His expressed ideals when we compromise with the world, our departure from His example when we excuse ourselves on the ground of very minor inconveniences from keeping some holy day or fasting day, are not founded in ignorance at all. They can hardly be said to be founded in weakness, so slight is the temptation that we do not resist. As we meditate on the Passion, as we keep Good Friday, very pitiful all our idleness and subterfuges appear to us. But we so easily shake off the effect! We emerge from our meditation almost convinced that the stinging sense of the truth of our conduct which we are experiencing is the equivalent of having reformed it. We go out with a glow of virtue and by night realise that we have sinned again! It is no doubt well that we should not be permanently depressed about our spiritual state, but only because we have taken all the pains we can to heal the wounds of sin. There is no need that any one should abide in a state of sin because there has been in the Precious Blood a fountain opened for sin and for uncleanness, and by washing therein, though our souls were as scarlet, they shall become white as snow. We have the right to a certain optimism about ourselves if it be founded on actual spiritual activity which ceaselessly tries to reproduce the Christ-experience in us, even the experience of the Passion by the voluntary self-discipline to which we subject ourselves. A brilliant writer has spoken of those whose view of their lives is drawn from "that fountain of all optimism--sloth." That is a true saying: our optimism is often no more than an idle refusal to face facts; a quaint and good-natured assumption that nothing very much matters and that everything will be all right in the end! This easy going optimism is commonly as far as possible from representing any spiritual fact. If we are seeking any serious and fruitful relation to the Passion of our Lord, we must seek it along the Way of the Cross. To follow His example means to follow His experience, to treat life as He treated it. The content of our lives is quite different, but the treatment of the given fact must be essentially the same. We need the same repulse of temptation, the same quiet disregard of the appeals of the world, whether it offer the alleviation of difficulty or the bestowal of pleasure as the reward of our allegiance. And we, sinners in so manifold ways, need what our Lord did not need, repulsion from our sins as the necessary preliminary to forgiveness. My experience makes me feel very strongly that we are apt to be deficient in the first step in repentance--contrition. As we follow the Way of Sorrows we know that our Lord is suffering _for us_; and we feel that the starting point of our repentance must lie in our success in making that a personal matter. In our self examination, in our approach to the sacrament of penance, we are compelled to ask ourselves, Am I in fact sorry for my sins? It surely is not enough that we fear the results of sin, or that we are ashamed at our failure. This really is not repentance but a sort of pride. There must, I feel, be sorrow after a godly sort. That is, true contrition, true sorrow for sin, is the sort of sorrow which is born of the Vision of God; it has its origin in love. I have found in our Lord love giving itself to me, and I must find in myself love giving itself to Him. To my forgiveness it is not enough that God loves me. I know that He loves me and will love me to the end, whether I repent or not; but the possibility of forgiveness lies in my love of Him, whether it takes such hold on me as actually to stimulate me to forsake sin. I shall never really forsake sin through shame or fear; one gets used to those emotions after a little and disregards them. But one does not get used to love; it grows to be an increasing force in life, and so masters us as to draw us away from sin. Contrition then will be the offspring of love. It will be born when we follow Christ Jesus out on the Sorrowful Way and understand that He is going out for us. Then we want to get as near Him as possible: we want to take His Hand and go by His side. We want to stand by Him in His trial and share His condemnation. We want constantly to tell Him how sorry we are that we have brought Him here. We shall not be content that He feel all the pain. We are convinced that we ought to share in the pain as we share in the results of the Passion. When we have achieved this point of view we shall feel that our approach to Him to ask His forgiveness needs, it may be, much more care than we have hitherto bestowed upon it. We have thought of penance as forgiveness; now we begin to see how much the attitude which precedes our entrance to the confessional counts, and that we must value the gift of God enough to have made sure that we are ready to receive it. We kneel down, therefore, and look at our crucifix, and say: "This hast Thou done for me," and make our act of love in which we join ourselves to the Cross of Jesus. We tell ourselves that love is the beginning and end of our relation to Him. It is to be urged that every Christian should be utterly familiar with the life of our Lord, and should spend time regularly in meditation upon His life, and especially upon His Passion. Love is the constant counteractive of familiarity; and it is kept fresh in our souls by the contemplation of what our Lord has actually done for us. A general recalling of what He has done has not the same stimulating force as the vivid placing before us of the actual details of His work. To most of us visible aids to the realisation of our Lord's action for us are most helpful. A crucifix on the wall of one's room before which one can say one's prayers, and before which also we stop for a moment time and again in the course of the day, just to say a few words, to make an act of love, of contrition, or of union, keeps the thought of the Passion fresh. We gain in freshness and variety of prayer by the use of such devotions as the litany of the Passion or the Way of the Cross. A set of cards of the Stations help us to say them in our homes. It is much to be desired that we accustom ourselves to devotional helps of all sorts. We are quite too much inclined to think that there is something of spiritual superiority in the attempt to conduct our devotional life without any of the helps which centuries of Christian experience have provided. It is the same sort of feeling that makes other Christians assume that there is a superiority in spiritual attainment evidenced by their dispensing with "forms," especially with printed prayers. It is just as well to remember that we did not originate the Christian Religion, but inherited it; and that the practices of devotion that have been found helpful by generations of saints, and after full trial have retained the approval of the greater part of Christendom, can hardly be treated as valueless, much less as superstitious. The fact that saints have found them valuable and one has not, may possibly not be a criticism of the saints. The meditation upon the Way of the Cross, the vision of Jesus scourged, spitted upon, crowned with thorns, may well give us some searchings of heart in regard to our own easy-going, luxurious life. Nothing seems to disturb the modern person so much as the suggestion that the chief business of the Christian Religion is not to look after their comfort. They hold, it would appear, to the pre-Christian notion that prosperity is an obvious mark of God's favour, and that by the accumulation of wealth they are giving indisputable evidence of piety. It is well to recall that there is no such dangerous path as that of continual success. I do not in the least mean to imply that success is sinful or indicates the existence of sin, but I do mean to insist very strongly that the successful man needs to be a very spiritually watchful man. He is quite apt to think that he may take all sorts of liberties with the laws of God. There are, no doubt, evident dangers to the unsuccessful man, but the Holy Scriptures have not thought it worth while to spend much time in denouncing him. It has a good deal to say of the danger, not so much of wealth, as of prosperity in general: "Behold, this was the iniquity of thy sister Sodom, pride, fullness of bread, and prosperous ease were in her." When we find ourselves in a satisfied and comfortable home life, so comfortable that we find it difficult to get up to a week-day Mass, and disinclined to go out to a service after dinner, we need watching. And the best watchman is oneself; and the best method of self-examination is by the Cross. Is there any sense in which we can be said to be following our Lord on the Sorrowful Way? Have we taken up the Cross to go after Him, or are we assuming that we can just as well drift along with the crowd of those who only look on? We all need from time to time to consider the Catholic teaching as to mortification and self-discipline. I am quite aware that to insist on this is not the way of popularity, but nevertheless I learned a long time ago that about the only way that a priest can take if he wishes to be saved is the way of unpopularity. And therefore I am going to insist that the practice of rigorous self-discipline is essential to any healthy Christian life. We cannot dispense ourselves from this, for the mere fact that we are dispensing ourselves is the proof that we need that upon which we are turning our back. Briefly, what I mean is that the assumption of the Cross by a Christian means that he is taking into his life, voluntarily, personal acts of self-sacrifice which he offers to our Lord as the evidence and the means of his own Cross-bearing. The unruliness of our nature can only be kept in order by continual acts of self-discipline. We, no doubt, recognise the need of the discipline of the passions, but our theory, so far as we can be said to have one, would seem to be that the discipline of the passions means resistence to special temptations as they arise. We may no doubt sin through the passions, and therefore we need a minimum of watchfulness to meet temptations which come our way. I submit that such a way of conducting life is quite sufficient to account for the vast amount of failure we witness or, perhaps, experience. When from time to time the country gets alarmed about its health, when it is threatened with some epidemic such as influenza, the papers are full of medical advice the sum of which is you cannot dodge all the disease germs that are in the air, but you can by a vigorous course of exercise and by careful diet, keep yourself in a state of such physical soundness that the chances are altogether favourable for your withstanding the assaults of disease. No doubt the vast majority of people prefer not to follow this advice. A considerable number of them resort to various magic cults, such as letting sudden drafts of cold air in upon the inoffensive bystander with a view to exorcising the germs. But it remains that the medical advice is sound: it amounts to saying, "Keep yourself in the best physical condition possible and you will run the minimum chance of being ill." The Catholic treatment of life and its recommendation of discipline and mortification has precisely the same basis as the physical advice--an ounce of prevention is better than a pound of cure. We are exposed to temptation constantly, and we need to recognise the fact and prepare ourselves to meet it; and the best preparation is the preparation of self-discipline for the purpose of keeping rebellious nature under control. Good farming does not consist in pulling up weeds; it consists in the choice and preparation of the ground in which the seed is to be sown; it looks primarily to the growth of the seed and not to the elimination of the weeds. Our nature is a field in which the Word of God is sown; its preparation and care is what we need to focus attention on, not the weeds. Self-discipline is the preparation of nature, the discipline of the powers of the spiritual life with a view to what they have to do. And one of the important phases of our preparation is to teach our passions obedience, to subject them to the control of the enlightened will. If they are accustomed to obey they are not very likely to get out of hand in some time of crisis. If they are broken in to the dominion of spiritual motive, they will instinctively seek that motive whenever they are incited to act. Hence the immense spiritual value of the habitual denial to ourselves of indulgence in various innocent kinds of activity. I do not at all mean that we are never to have innocent indulgences: I do mean that the declining of them occasionally for the purpose of self-discipline is a most wholesome practice. How frequently it is desirable must be determined by the individual circumstances. It is utterly disastrous to permit a child to have everything it wants because there is sufficient money to spend, to permit it to run to soda fountains or go to the picture houses as it desires. Any sane person recognises that; but does the same person recognise the sane principle as applying in his own life? Does he feel the value of going without something for a day or two, or staying from places of amusement for a time, or of abandoning for a while this or that luxury? The principle is of course the ascetic principle of self-mastery. It is best brought before us by the familiar practice of fasting, which is very mildly recommended to us in its lowest terms in the table in the Book of Common Prayer. Naturally, its value is not the value of going without this or that, but the value of self-mastery. The very fact that our appetites rebel at the notion shows their undisciplined character. The child at the table begins to ask, not for a sensible meal founded on sound reasons of hygiene, but for various things that are an immediate temptation to the appetite. The adult is not markedly different save that he preserves a certain order in indulgence. The principle of fasting is that he should from time to cut across the inclination of appetite, and either go without a meal altogether, or select such food as will maintain health without delighting appetite. So man gains the mastery over the animal side of his nature and shows himself the child of God. The actual practice of the ascetic life really carries us much farther than these surface matters of a physical nature that have been cited. It applies in particular to the disposition of time and the ruling of daily actions. The introduction of a definite order into the day actually seems to increase the time at one's disposal. I know, I can hear you saying: "If you were the head of a family, and had children to look after, you would not talk that way. You would know something of the practical difficulties of life." But indeed I am quite familiar with the situation. And if I were so situated I am certain that I should feel all the more need of order. Families are disorderly because we let them be; because we do not face the initial trouble of making them orderly. A school or a factory would be still more disorderly than a family if it were permitted to be. Any piece of human mechanism will get out of order if you will let it. That is precisely the reason for the insistence on the ascetic principle--this tendency of life to get out of order; that is the meaning of all that I have been saying, of the whole Catholic insistence on discipline. Time can be controlled; and, notwithstanding American experience, children can be controlled; and control means the rescuing of the life from disorder and sin, and the lifting it to a level of order and sanity and possible sanctity. We cannot hope to meet successfully the common temptations of life except we be prepared to meet them, except there be in our life an element of foresight. An undisciplined and untried strength is an unknown quantity. The man who expects to meet temptation when it occurs without any preparation is in fact preparing for failure. I do not believe that there is any other so great a source of spiritual weakness and disaster as the going out to meet life without preceding discipline, thus subjecting the powers of our nature to trials for which we have not fitted them. Self-control, self-discipline, ascetic practice, are indispensible to a successful Christian life. O STAR of starrès, with thy streamès clear, Star of the Sea, to shipman Light or Guide, O lusty Living, most pleasant t'appear, Whose brightè beames the cloudès may not hide: O Way of Life to them that go or ride, Haven from tempest, surest up t'arrive, O me have mercy for thy Joyès five. * * * * * O goodly Gladded, when that Gabriel With joy thee gret that may not be numb'rèd, Or half the bliss who couldè write or tell, When th' Holy Ghost to thee was obumbrèd, Wherethrough the fiendès were utterly encombrèd? O wemless Maid, embellished in his birth, That man and angel thereof hadden mirth. John Lydgate of Bury, XV Cent. From Chaucerian and Other Poems, edited by W. W. Skeat, 1894. PART TWO CHAPTER XVII HOLY WEEK II And after they had mocked him, they took the robe off from him, and put his own raiment on him, and led him away to crucify him. S. Matt. XXVII, 31. Forgive, O Lord, we beseech thee, the sins of thy people: that we, who are not able to do anything of ourselves, that can be pleasing to thee, may be assisted in the way of salvation by the prayers of the Mother of thy Son. Who. Having partaken of thy heavenly table, we humbly beseech thy clemency, O Lord, our God, that we who honour the Assumption of the Mother of God, may, by her intercession, be delivered from all evils. Through. OLD CATHOLIC. The way of the Cross is indeed a Sorrowful Way. We have meditated upon it so often that we are familiar with all the details of our Lord's action as He follows it from the Judgment Seat of Pilate to the Place of a Skull. I wonder if we enough pause to look with our Lord at the crowds that line the way, or at those who follow Him out of the city. It is not a mere matter of curiosity that we should do so, or an exercise of the devout imagination; the reason why we should examine carefully the faces of those men who attend our Lord on the way to His death is that somewhere in that crowd we shall see our own faces: it is a mirror of sinful humanity that we look into there. All the seven deadly sins are there incarnate. It is extremely important that we should get this sort of personal reaction from the Passion because we are so prone to be satisfied with generalities, to confess that we are miserable sinners, and let it go at that! But to stop there is to stop short of any possibility of improvement, because we can only hope to improve when we understand our lives in detail, when we face them as concrete examples of certain sins. There was pride there. It was expressed by both Roman and Jewish officialism which looked with scorn on this obscure fanatic who claimed to be a king! Pilate had satisfied himself of His harmlessness by a very cursory examination. This Galilean Prophet with His handful of followers, peasants and women, who had deserted Him at the first sign of danger, was hardly worth troubling about. The only ground for any action at all was the fear that the Jewish leaders might be disagreeable. Those Jewish leaders took a rather more serious view of the situation because they knew that through the purity of His teaching and His obvious power to perform miracles, a power but just now once more strikingly demonstrated in the raising of Lazarus, He had a powerful hold on the people. They, these Jewish leaders, declined a serious examination of the claims of such a man in their pride of place and knowledge of the Scriptures. They were concerned to sweep Him aside as a possible leader in a popular outbreak, not as one whose claim to the Messiahship needed a moment's examination. This intellectual pride is one of the very greatest sins to which humanity is tempted. It goes very deep in its destructive force because it is a sin, preeminently, of the spiritual nature, of that in us which is akin to God, His very image. It is, you will remember, the sin on which our Lord centres His chief denunciation. And common as it has always been, it has never been so common as it is to-day. Pilate and the chief priests are duplicated in every community in the thousands who reject Christianity without any adequate examination as incredible in view of what they actually hold, or as inconvenient in view of what they desire to practice. We have only to read very superficially in the current literature of the day, we have only to examine the teaching in colleges, to be completely convinced of the vast extent of the revolt against the Christian Religion. This revolt is for the most part a revolt without adequate examination. It assumes that the Christian Religion is contrary to science, or to something else that is established as true. It looks at Christianity superficially through the eyes of those who reject it and are ignorant of it. The fact is that Christianity cannot be understood in any complete sense of the word by those who do not practice it. Its "evidence" is no doubt of great force; of sufficient force to lead men to experiment; but the actual comprehension of Christ as the Saviour of man is an experience. The operation of the Holy Spirit in life is necessarily proved, and only completely proved, by the action of the Spirit Himself. Another demonstration of the same pride is seen in the refusal, without adequate examination, to accept the Catholic Religion, and the picking and choosing among articles of belief and sacraments and practices as to what we will use or observe. Men do not like this or that, and they therefore decline it. The whole attitude is one of self-will and pride. Whatsoever comes to us with a great weight of Christian experience back of it certainly deserves careful consideration; it demands of us that we treat it as other than a matter of taste. Pride is the commonest of sins and the most dangerous for it attacks the very heart of the spiritual life. It runs, to be sure, through a broad range of experience and not all manifestations of pride are mortal sin; but all manifestations of it are subtle and insidious and capable of expansion to an indefinite degree. For there is no difference in nature between the spiritual attitude of the person who says, "I do not see any sense in that and will not do it," when the matter in question may be the Church's rule of fasting, and that of the man who before Pilate's Judgment Seat cried out, "We have no king but Caesar." It was in fact because they found their own power and place threatened that the Jewish authorities were so determined on our Lord's death. Their sin from this point of view was the sin of covetousness. This sin reaches its highest point when it is greed for power over other men's lives and destinies, when it is ready to sacrifice the lives of others in order to gain or maintain its ends. In this broad sense it is the most socially destructive of sins. The wars of the world for these many years have been wars for commercial supremacy. The world is being continually exploited by commercial enterprises which will stop at nothing to gain their ends. Some day a history of the last two hundred years will be written which will tell the story of the commercial expansion of the world we call civilised, and it will be the most horrible book that has ever been written. It will contain the story of the Spanish colonisation of America. It will contain the history of the slave trade. It will contain the history of the Belgian Congo, and of the rubber industry in South America. It will contain the history of the American Indian and of the opium trade of India--and of many like things. But while we shudder at the world-torturing ways of the pursuit of wealth, of the world-wide seeking of money and power, we need not forget that the sin of covetousness is as common as any sin can be. It is so common and so subtle that it is almost impossible to know how far one is a victim of it. It is deliberately taught to us as children under the guise of thrift, which if it be a virtue is certainly one that the saints have overlooked. We are constantly called on to strike a balance between what are the proper needs of life and what is an improper concentration of attention upon ourselves. Waste of money, like waste of any other energy, is a sin; but it is a very nice question as to what is waste. I think it a pretty safe rule to give expenditure the benefit of the doubt when it is for others, and to deny it when it is for self. However, I imagine that those who are conscientiously trying to conduct their lives as the children of God will have little difficulty in this matter. The real trouble is not in the matter of expenditure but in the matter of gain. The ethics of business are very far from being the ethics of the Gospel, and we are often frankly told by those engaged in business that it cannot be successfully conducted on the basis of the ethics of the Gospel, That it is not so conducted is sufficiently obvious from a cursory scanning of the advertising columns of any newspaper or magazine. The ideal of the business world is success. Naturally, one cannot carry on an unsuccessful business, but need it be success by all means and to all extents? Are there no limits to the methods by which business is to be pushed, except legal limits? If there is no room for Christian ethics in the business world there can be but one end; competitive business will lead the civilisation that it controls to inevitable disaster. Our Lord said: "Take heed and beware of covetousness; for a man's life consisteth not in the abundance of the things that he possesseth." And He went on to speak a parable which has come to be known as the Parable of the Rich Fool. The "practical man" may be as angered as he likes by this teaching, but in his soul he knows that our Lord was right. When such things are pointed out from the pulpit the "practical man" says: "What would become of the Church were it not for the rich and the successful?" I think that the answer is that in that case the Church would no more represent the rich and would have a fair chance of once more representing Jesus Christ. It may seem at the first sight that of the mortal sins lust was not represented here upon the Sorrowful Way; but that, I think is but a superficial analysis of the nature of lust, thinking only of some manifestations of it. There is however one sin that has its roots deep in lust which psychologists tell us is one of its commonest manifestations, and that is cruelty. Lust is not always, but commonly, cruel; and the desire to inflict pain on others is a very common form of its expression. There are sights we have seen or incidents we have read of, it may be a boy torturing an animal or another child, it may be a shouting mass of men about a prize-ring, it may be soldiers sacking a town,--when the action seems so senseless that we are at a loss to account for it; but the account of it lies in the mystery of our sensual nature, in the ultimate animal that we are. The savage joy that is being expressed by the participants in such scenes is ultimately a sensual joy. These men who delighted in the torture of our Lord were sensualists; and there are few of us who if we will watch our selves closely will not find traces of the animal showing itself from time to time. Of this crowd about the Cross relatively few could have known anything about the case of our Lord; but they were fascinated by the spectacle of a man's torture. If the executions of criminals were public to-day there would undoubtedly be huge crowds to gaze upon them. It is one of the lessons we learn from the study of sin that what we had thought was the essence of the sin was in fact but one of the manifestations of it, and that we have to carry our study far before we arrive at the ideal, Know thyself. It is always dangerous to assume that we know when we have not been at the pains to look at a subject on all sides. Our sensual nature needs a very careful discipline, and the mere freedom from certain forms of the sin of lust is not the equivalent of that purity which is the medium of the Vision of God. It is the sin of gluttony which is the least obvious in the Way of the Cross. There are no doubt plenty of gluttons there, but that is not what we are trying to find; we are trying to see how each sin contributed to this final act in the drama of our Lord's life, how each sin contributed to put men in opposition to our Lord. It is not the actual sin of gluttony that we shall find in operation here but certain inevitable effects of it, What is the effect of gluttony on the soul of man? Absorption in the pursuit of the pleasures that spring from material things; the indulgence of the appetite, and the natural result of such indulgence which is to render the soul insensitive to the spiritual. The man whose motto is, "Let us eat and drink, for to-morrow we die," puts himself out of touch with the spiritual realities of life. He is materialistic, whatever may be his philosophy. He wants immediate results from life. When he is confronted with our Lord, when he is told that our Lord makes demands upon life for self-restraint and self-discipline, that He demands that the appetites be curbed rather than indulged, he declines allegiance. One can have no doubt that in our Lord's time as to-day indifference to His teaching and failure even to take in what the Gospel means or how it can be a possible rule of life is largely due to the dull spiritual state, outcome of the indulgence of the appetite for meat and drink. Men whose brains are clogged by over eating, and whose faculties are in a deadened state through the use of alcohol, cannot well understand the Gospel of God. There is abundant evidence of anger all along the Way of the Cross. The constant thwarting of the purpose of the Jewish authorities by our Lord, His unsparing criticism of them before the people, had stirred them to fury. If our Lord had seemed to them to threaten their "place and nation" we can understand that they would show toward Him intense hostility. Their attitude toward the people whose religious interests they were supposed to have in charge was one of utter contempt: "This people which knoweth not the Law is cursed." Our Lord's attitude was the opposite of all this. It was not, to be sure, as to-day it is represented to be an appeal to the people. He was not bidding for popular support, but he showed unbounded sympathy with the people; He cast His teaching in a form that would appeal to them and draw them to him. He made a popular appeal in that He showed Himself understanding of the popular mind and without social prejudice of any sort. This setting aside of the arrogant authorities of Israel roused them to implacable wrath. They felt that our Lord was setting Himself to undermine their authority, and as they felt that their authority was "of God" their indignation translated itself into terms of zeal for God. This anger that manages to wear a cloak of virtue is peculiarly dangerous to the soul. When we are just ordinarily mad over some offence committed against us it is no doubt a sin; but it is not a sin of the same malignity as when we feel that we can go any lengths because we are not angry on our own behalf, then our anger almost becomes an act of religion in our eyes. We have become the defenders of a cause. No doubt there is such a thing as "righteous indignation," but it is not a virtue that we are compelled to practice, and we would do well to leave it alone as much as possible lest our indignation exceed our righteousness, and we indentify our personal interests with the cause of God. The worst feature of tempermental flare-ups is the testimony they bear to our lack of discipline. When we excuse ourselves or others on the ground that action is "temperamental" we are in fact no more than restating the fact that there is sore need of discipline; and there is no more ground for excusing one variety of temperament for its lack of discipline than an other. In fact, the more inclined a temperament is to certain sins, the more necessity there is for the appropriate sort of training. People without self-control, who are constantly losing their temper, are public nuisances and ought to be suppressed. There is the worst kind of arrogance in the assumption that I do not have to control myself and can speak and act as I like. No one, whatever his position, has the right to ignore the feelings of others; and the more the position is one of authority, exempting him from a certain kind of criticism, the more is he bound to criticise himself and examine himself as to this particular sin. There are sins under this caption which do not contain much malice but are disturbing to life, and they are especially disturbing to one's spiritual life. There are peevish, complaining people, who do not seem to mean much harm, but keep themselves in a state of dissatisfaction which renders their spiritual growth impossible. They grow old without any of the grace and beauty of character which should mark a Christian old age. One knows old people who have been in intimate contact with the Church and the sacraments for many years but do not show any signs of having reached our Lord through them. They are dissatisfied and complaining and critical and generally disagreeable so that the task of those who take care of them is rendered very disheartening. What is the trouble? Has there never been any true spiritual discipline, but only a certain superficial conformity to a spiritual rule? When old age comes the will is weakened and the sense of self-respect undermined, with the result that what the person has all along been in reality, now comes to the surface and is, perhaps for the first time, visible to every one. Envy is closely related to pride on the one hand and to covetousness on the other. It begins in the perception of another's superiority, and carries its victim through the feeling of hurt pride at the contrast with himself to desire for that which is not his own. The envious person covets the qualities of possessions of another, while vividly denying that they are in fact superior to his own, except, it may be, in certain apparent and not very valuable aspects. The contrast between the superior and the inferior has one of two results: either the inferior is stirred to admiration, or he is stirred to a greater or less degree of envy. It was thus that contact with our Lord _revealed_ the reality of men. It was a very true judgment to associate with him. His apostles were simple men who never thought of putting themselves in comparison with Him: the more they knew Him the more wonderful He seemed to them. We feel all through the Gospel story what an overwhelming impression His personality made upon men. There is no criticism raised on His character from any point of view. His enemies fell back on the accusation of blasphemy growing out of His claims, an accusation that would be true, if the claims were not true. What we really discover in those who oppose Him is envy, envy of the influence He exercises over others, envy stirred by His obvious superiority to themselves. Envy is one of the sins of which we are least conscious. When people affirm that they envy others this or that: their leisure, their beauty, or what not, they clearly do not envy them at all, but are mildly covetous of the things that they see others possess. Where envy does show its presence and where we do not recognise its nature, is in that horrible inclination to depreciate others which is visible in certain characters. They seem never to hear another mentioned but they try to think of something which limits the praise bestowed upon him, or altogether counteracts it. It seems to be an instinctive hostility to superiority as involving an implied criticism of one's own inferiority. It is that curious love of the worst that lies at the root of gossip. And what about the last of the deadly sins, the sin of sloth? One is almost tempted to say that it is at once the least obvious and the most destructive of all the deadly sins. That would no doubt be somewhat of an exaggeration, but it would not be very far off the truth. It is spiritual sloth that prevents us from considering as we should the spiritual problems that are presented to us, and therefore prevents us from gaining their promise. It is the quality in humanity that blocks the consideration of the new on the ground that we already know and can gain nothing by further exertion. The Jewish religious leaders declined the intellectual and spiritual effort of considering our Lord's claims; they just set them aside unconsidered. And is not that just what we are constantly doing, and what constitutes the most pressing danger of the spiritual life? We will not consider the future as the field of constantly new opportunity and therefore new stages of growth. We do not want to make the effort that is implied in that attitude. Our sloth binds us hand and foot and delivers us to the enemy. There are no doubt some who cry out: "But I am not at all slothful; I am busy from morning to night; of whatever else I may be guilty, it is not of sloth!" My friend, busy people are quite often the most slothful people that there are. They are busy dodging their rightful duties and the opportunities that God offers them, all day long. Have you never discovered that when you had something that you ought to do and do not want to do, that the easiest method by which you can still your conscience is to make yourself terribly busy about something else, and then to tell yourself that the reason why you have not done what you know that you ought to have done is that really you have not had time? Do you not know that being busy is one of the most effective screens that you can put between your conscience and your obligation? Do you not know that tens of thousands of men and women to-day are putting the screens of good works, of social service of some sort, between their souls and the worship of God and the practice of the sacraments? Beware lest while you wear yourself out with activity your besetting sin be found to be sloth! And shall we find there on the Way of Sorrow the virtues that are the opposite of the Seven Sins? Perhaps, if we had time to look, or had sufficient knowledge of the crowd that lines the way. There are certain women over there wailing and lamenting; perhaps they could help us. In any case we know that there is one woman who has succeeded in keeping near whose love of Jesus is so intense that it will enable her to overcome all obstacles and be near Him to the very last. Jesus as He staggers along the way and falls at length under the intolerable weight of the Cross is the embodiment of all virtues and of all spiritual accomplishment, and his blessed Mother through His grace has been kept pure from all sin. She will show the perfection of purely human accomplishment. She is the best that humanity in union with the Incarnate Son has brought forth. We have seen--we have caught glimpses of her life through what the Scriptures tell us of her--how completely she has responded to grace in all the actions of her life. Not much do the Scriptures say, but what they do say is like the opening of windows through which we catch passing aspects of her life which we feel are perfectly characteristic and revealing. And we have seen there, or we may see, may we not? the virtues which are the work of the Holy Spirit enabling us to overcome the deadly sins. We have seen the humility with which, without thought of self, she answered God's call to be the Mother of His Son. We have seen the liberality with which she places her whole life at God's disposal, withholding nothing from the divine service. Purity undefiled had been God's gift to her from the first moment of her existence. Hers too was that meekness which willingly accepted all that the appointment of God brought her, showing in her acceptance no withholding of the will, no trace of self-assertion. Hers was the great virtue of temperance, the power of self-restraint and self-discipline, which suppressed all movements of nature that would be contrary to God's will. There too was the love of the brother and of the neighbour which is the contrary of envy; and there was the eagerness in fulfilling the will of God which is the opposite of sloth. We have then two spotless examples,--how shall we not be stirred to follow them! There is Jesus manifesting the qualities of His sinless life, of the life of God's election, of humanity as God wills it to be, and as it ultimately will be when it gives itself to His will; and Mary in whom we see the work of God's grace perfectly accomplished by virtue of her perfect response to the love of her Sen. We look at these two lives and we see what is possible for us. We do not say, we cannot say, these things are too wonderful and great for me. We can only say, through the grace of God which is given me, "I can do all things." It is not my inevitable destiny that I should abide a sinner. I have the choice of being a sinner or a saint. MARY: Ever I cried full piteously: "Lordings, what have ye i-brought? It is my Son I love so much: For God's sake bury Him nought." They would not stop though that I swooned, Till that He in the grave were brought. Rich clothes they around him wound: And ever mercy I them besought. * * * * * They said there was no better way But take and bury him full snel. They looked on my cousin John For sorrow both a-down we fell-- * * * * * By Him we fell that was My Child. His sweet mouth well full oft I kissed. John saw I was in point to spill, That nigh mine heart did come to break. He held his sorrow in his heart still And mildly then to me did speak: "Mary, if it be thy will Go we hence; the Maudeleyn eke." He led me to a chamber then Where my Son was used to be,-- John and the Maudeleyn also; For nothing would they from me flee. I looked about me everywhere: I could nowhere my Sonè see. We sat us down in sorrow and woe And 'gan to weep all three. From St. Bernard's Lamentation on Christ's Passion. Engl. version, probably 13th Cent, by Richard Maydestone. PART TWO CHAPTER XVIII THE CRUCIFIXION And they crucified him. S. Matt. XXVII, 35. In as much as we have no confidence because of our many sins, do thou, O Virgin Mother of God, beseech him who was born of thee; for a Mother's supplication availeth much to gain the benignity of the Master. Despise not the prayers of sinners, O all-august, for merciful and mighty to save is he, who vouchsafed to suffer for us. BYZANTINE. We have followed the Way of Sorrows to the very end and now stand on Calvary watching by the Cross, waiting for the death of the Son of God. The mystery of iniquity is consummated here where man in open rebellion against his God crucifies the Incarnate Son. Here is fulfilled the saying: "He came unto His own and His own received Him not." All that man can do to prove his own degredation he has done. In the person of Pilate he has condemned to death a man whom he knows to be innocent. The representative of human justice has denied justice for the sake of his own personal ends. In the person of Herod he has permitted the insult and abuse of One of whom he knows no ill, and has displayed toward Him wanton and brutal cruelty. In the person of the Jewish authorities he has rejected the Messenger of the God whom he recognises as his God, and will not listen to the voice of prophecy because he finds his personal ends countered by the fulfilment of the promises of the religion whose subject he professes to be. In the person of the disciples he shows himself too cowardly and self-regarding to stand by his innocent Master and to throw in his lot with Him. In the person of the people he shows himself cruel, hardened, indifferent to suffering and to justice, ready to be made the tool of unscrupulous politicians, unstable and ignorant. As we look on, we succeed in retaining any shred of respect for humanity only through the contemplation of the exceptions--of S. John and the little group of women who are faithful to the end: above all in the sight of blessed Mary standing by the Cross of her Son. It is the will of God that our Lord should follow the human lot to the very depth of its possible sufferings. There are no doubt many sufferings of humanity that our Lord does not share, they are those which spring out of personal sin. He in Whom was no sin could not suffer those things which spring from one's own wrong doing. That is one broad distinction between the burdens of the crosses on Calvary, a distinction which the penitent thief caught easily when he said to his reviling fellow-criminal, "Dost thou not fear God, seeing thou art in the same condemnation? And we indeed justly; for we receive the due reward of our deeds: but this man hath done nothing amiss." And in as much as a great part of what we suffer is plainly just, the pain we bear is intensified by the knowledge that what we are is the outcome of what we have been. But our Lord, while He does not suffer as the result of His own sin, does suffer as the result of sin in that He wills to bear the result of men's sin by putting Himself at their mercy. He bears the burden of sin to the uttermost, looking down from the Cross at the faces of these men whose salvation He is making possible if in the days to come they will associate themselves with Him. One wonders how many of those who saw Him crucified came, before they died, to accept Him as the Saviour and their God. There must have been many wonderful first Communions in the early Church when those who had rejected Jesus in His humility came to receive Him glorified. But as we look at this scene of the dying we feel that the powers of evil are working their uttermost, they are driving their slaves to incredible sins. One feels the tremendous power that evil is as one looks at these human beings who are body and soul wholly under its dominion. The Power of Darkness appears utterly in control of the world of humanity; but we know that this moment in which its triumph seems most complete is in fact the moment in which its defeat is at hand. The victory that is being won is the victory of the Vanquished: and the moment when the victory of evil seems assured by the dying of Jesus, is in fact the moment when the chains of the slaves of sin are broken, and men who will to be free are henceforth free indeed. From that moment a new freedom is within the reach of men, the freedom which comes to them through their participation in the redemption wrought for them by God. Presently S. John will announce the great message of freedom to the Church, a message that he will tell in his own wonderful simplicity, a simplicity which almost deceives us as to its unfathomable depth of love and mystery: "For whatsoever is born of God overcometh the world: and this is the victory that overcometh the world, even our faith.... We know that whosoever is born of God sinneth not: but He that was begotten of God keepeth him, and the evil one toucheth him not. And we know that we are of God, and the whole world lieth in the evil one. And we know that the Son of God is come, and hath given us an understanding, that we may know Him that is true, and we are in Him that is true, even in His Son Jesus Christ. This is the true God, and eternal life." This is what the dying of Jesus achieved for us, that we should be free as men had never been free, and that we should be strong as men had never been strong. On their crosses the thieves agonise in the realisation of the sin that has brought them there; but our Lord, Who is free from sin, looks out on the scene before Him in a wonderful detachment from His personal suffering. Being without sin our Lord is without egotism, and never treats life from that purely personal standpoint that we are constantly tempted to adopt. Our own needs, our own interests, occupy the foreground and determine the judgment; and we are rarely able to see in dealing with the concrete case that our own interests are ultimately indentical with the interests of the whole Body. The lesson that if one member suffer, all the members suffer with it, that we are partners in joy and sorrow alike, is almost impossible of assimilation by the radical individualists that we are. Our theories break down before the test of actuality. But our Lord was not an individualist. He, in His relations with men, is the Head of the Body; and He admits no division of interests between His members. He therefore can think of the needs of others while He Himself is undergoing the last torture of death. He can impartially judge the separate cases of His members; He can attend to the spiritual welfare of a needy soul; He can think of His own death as an act of sacrifice willed by God, and not as a matter concerning Himself alone; and in doing these things He teaches us a much-needed lesson of the handling of life. No lesson is to-day more needed because we are more and more being influenced to treat life as a private matter. I have spoken of this before and need not elaborate it now; but I do want to insist, at whatever risk of repetition, that a Christian must, if his religion mean anything at all, look on the interests of the Body, not as a separate group of interests to which he is privileged or obligated to contribute such help as seems to him from time to time appropriate, but as in fact his own primary interests because his true significance in the world is gained through his membership in the Body. His life is hid with Christ in God and his conversation is in heaven. The life that he now lives in the flesh he lives by the faith of the Son of God, who loved him and gave Himself for him. To assert separate interests is to break the essential relation of his life. He is nothing apart from the Body but a dry and withered branch fit for the burning. No doubt our egotism rebels against this view of life, but it is certain that it is the view of the Christian Religion. If we would realise the ideals of the Religion we must act as those who are in constant relations with the other members of the Body and whose life gets its significance through those relations. There is no more outstanding lesson of our Lord's life than this. It is true from whichever angle you look at it. If you think of our Lord as a divine Person it is at once evident how much of His meaning is included in His relations to the other Persons of the Blessed Trinity. He claims no independent will; it is the will of the Father that He has come to do. He claims no original work: it is the work that the Father has given Him to do that He is straightened until He accomplish. He has no individual possession, but all things that the Father has are His. Considered as God, our Lord is One Person in the one divine nature, no Unitarian interpretation of Him is possible. On the other hand, if you look at Him as Incarnate, as having identified Himself with humanity, He is in that respect made one with His brethren. He has made their interests His, and as their new Head is opening for them the gate of the future. He is inviting them into union with Himself, that in the status of His "brethren" and "friends" they may be also the true children of the heavenly Father. There is no hint anywhere that these things may be accomplished apart from Him, in individual isolation: indeed, if they could be so accomplished the Incarnation would be meaningless. He is the Way and no one cometh to the Father but by Him. He is the Truth, and no one knows the Father but he to whom the Son reveals Him. He is the Life, and no one spiritually lives except through His self-impartation. "He that eateth my flesh and drinketh my blood hath eternal life. He that eateth me, even he shall live by me." In this outlook from the Cross which we recognise in our Blessed Lord when, forgetting His own sufferings in His appreciation of the needs of others, we see Him still fulfilling His ministry of mercy and of sympathy, we are certain that His eyes would rest upon one group which could not fail to pierce His heart with its pathos and tragedy. Our Lord's love is not a general, impersonal love of humanity; it is always love of a person. He no doubt felt a special love for this thief who appealed to Him from the cross by His side. In the whole course of His life our Lord had shown His oneness with us in that He loved special people in a special way. He loved Lazarus and his sisters, He loved S. John. Above all others He loved His Blessed Mother. And now looking down from the Cross He sees that the disciple whom He loved was succeeded in leading His mother into the very shadow of the Cross. How S. Mary had made her way there we do not know: only love knows how it triumphs over its obstacles and comes forth victorious. There is Blessed Mary, looking up into the face so scarred and bleeding, and there is the Son, looking down through the blinding blood into the face of the mother. This is the supreme human tragedy of Calvary. We can only stand and watch the exchange of love. And then comes the word--the word, by the way, which when it was spoken years ago in Cana of Galilee, men have interpreted as a harsh and rebuking word, with how much truth this scene tells--then comes the word: "Woman, behold thy son." In His love He gives her that which He had so much loved, the friendship of S. John. He brings together those who had so supremely loved Him in an association which would support them both in the trial of their loss. "Woman, behold thy son; behold thy mother." Bitter as was their sorrow in this hour, we know that they were marvellously comforted by this power of love which is able to transcend suffering and death. We know, because we know how utterly our Lord is one with us, that it was much to Him to look on the face that bent over Him in the Manger in Bethlehem. We know, because we know the perfect woman that was Mary, that there was deep joy as well as deep agony in being able to stand there at the last beneath the Cross. Do you think that we are going too far when we see in S. Mary not simply the mother of our Lord, but when we also see in her a certain representative character? Does she not represent us in one way and S. John represent us in another, in this supreme exchange of love? Do we not feel that in S. John we have been recommended to the love and care of Mary who is our mother? Do we not feel that in S. John the mother has been committed to our love and care? Surely, because we are members of her Son we have a special relation to S. Mary, and a special claim upon her, if it be permitted to express it in that way. It is no empty form of words when we call her mother, no exaltation of sentimentalism. The title represents a very real relation of love. It brings home to us that the love of Mary is as near infinite as the love of a creature can be, and that like the love of her Son it is an unselfish love. She is necessarily interested in all the members of the Body, and their cares and joys and sorrows she is glad to make her own. She is very close to us in her love and sympathy; she is very ready to help us with her prayers. We never go to her for succour but she hears us. "Behold thy son," her divine Son said to her on the Cross in His agony, and all who are members of that Son are her sons too. Her place in heaven above all creatures, most highly favoured as she is, is a place to which our prayers penetrate, and never penetrate unheard. For that other Son, through whose merits she is what she is, whose Face she ever beholds as the Face alike of her Redeemer and her Child, is ever ready to hear her intercessions for us because they come to Him with the power and the insight that perfect purity and perfect sympathy alone can give. So for us there is intense personal consolation in this word: "Behold thy mother." But there is another side to this committal. It is mutual: "Behold thy son." If we can see ourselves in S. John, committed to the Blessed Mother, we can also see ourselves in S. John to whom the blessed mother is committed. "Behold thy mother." There is a sense in which the blessed mother is committed to us; to-day she is our care. We see the fulfillment of this trust in the love and reverence wherewith Christendom from the beginning has surrounded S. Mary. It has accepted the charge with a passionate devotion. The growth of devotion to her is recorded in the vast literature of Mariology which comes to us from all parts and all eras of the Catholic Church. The details of the expression of this devotion have been wrought out through the centuries with loving care, and the result is that wherever there is a Catholic conception of religion, either in East or West, there is a grateful response to our Lord's trust of His Blessed mother to His Church in the person of S. John. We feel, do we not? that it is one of the great privileges of our spiritual life that we have found a personal part in this trust, that it is permitted us to preserve and hand on this reverence for Blessed Mary, and in so doing to gain personal contact with her as a spiritual power in the Kingdom of God. It means much to us that we can have the love and sympathy which are blended with her intercession, that we can associate our prayers with hers in the time of our need. Much as we value the sympathy and prayers of our friends here, we cannot but feel that in Mary we have a friend whose helpfulness is stimulated by a great love and directed by deep spiritual insight into the reality of our needs. We turn therefore to her with the certainty of her co-operation. Our Lord on the Cross had now fulfilled His mission in the care of individual persons, had prayed for His tormentors, had forgiven the penitent thief, and had commended those who were the special objects of His love to one another, and could now turn His thoughts away from earth to the love of the Father. His last words are intimate words to Him. They express the agony that tears His soul as the Face of the Father is for a moment hidden, and the peace of an accomplished work as He surrenders Himself into the hands of the Father that sent Him. He who had been our example all His life, showing us how to meet life, is our example in death, showing us how to meet death. But just wherein does the dying of Christ become an example for us? This final surrender to the Father of a will that had never been separate from the Father,--what can we derive from all that? There are many lines of approach and application. I can only touch on one or two:-- "I have glorified Thee on the earth," our Lord said in the last wonderful prayer, "I have finished the work that Thou gavest me to do." And here on the Cross He repeats, "It is finished." When we think of this we are impressed with the steadiness with which our Lord pursued His purpose, with the way He concentrated His whole life upon His work. He declined to be drawn aside by anything irrelevant to it. People came to Him with all sorts of requests, from the request that He will settle a disputed inheritance to the request that He will become their king; and He puts them all aside as having no pertinence to His mission. It is interesting to go through the Gospel and note just what are the details of this winnowing process; mark what our Lord accepts as relevant to His mission and what not. He is never too occupied or tired to attend to what belongs to His work. An ill old woman or idiot child is important to Him and He attends to them; but He declines the sort of work that will involve Him and His mission in controversy and politics. He is not a reformer of society but a reformer of men. He knows that only by the reformation of men can society be reformed. There is no doubt much to be learned from the study of our Lord's method of the limits of the social and political activity of His Church. It has constantly fallen a victim to the temptation to undertake the reform of the world by some other means than the conversion of it. It has shown itself quite willing to be made "a judge and divider." It has not always declined the invitation it has received to assume the purple. "Your business is to reform this miserable world which so sadly and so obviously needs you," men say to it; "You are not living up to your principles and you are neglecting your duty by not supporting this great movement for the betterment of the race," others say. Still others urge, "You are losing great masses of men through your inexplicable failure to adopt their cause." And the Church in the whole course of its history has constantly yielded to this temptation, and has not seen until too late that in so doing it was making itself the tool or the cat's-paw of one interest or another whose sole interest in religion was the possibility of exploiting the influence of the Church. In the stupid hope of forwarding its spiritual interests the Church has entangled itself with the responsibilities of temporal power; it has made itself the backer of "the divine right of kings"; and it has found itself bound hand and foot in the character of a national or state Church; and with a curious incapacity to learn anything from experience is now enthusiastically cheering for democracy! Poor Church, whose leaders are so constantly misleaders. It is all due to the hoary temptation to try to get to one's end by some sort of a short cut: "All these things will I give you if you will fall down and worship me." Our Lord knew that Satan could not really give Him the ends He was seeking; but His followers are constantly confident that he can, and are therefore his constant and ready tools for this or that party or interest. They sell themselves to monarchy or democracy, to capital or labour, with the same guileless innocence of what is happening to them, with the same simple-minded incapacity to learn anything from the lessons of the past. There are no short cuts to spiritual ends, and those ends can never be accomplished by secular means. The interests of the Kingdom of God can never be forwarded by alliance with the powers of this world; the interests of particular persons or parties in the Church may be--but that is quite another thing. The lesson is one that is not without application to the individual life. There again the tendency to mind something other than one's own business is almost ineradicable. We have before us the work of building our spiritual house, of finishing the work that the Father has given us to do, of carrying to a successful conclusion the work of our sanctification. In view of the experience of nearly two thousand years of Christianity and of our own personal experience, that would seem a sufficiently difficult and obligatory work to occupy the undivided energies of a life-time. But we are accustomed to treat this primary business of life quite as though it were a parergon, a thing to play with in our unoccupied hours, the fad of a collector rather than the supreme interest of an immortal being. That spiritual results are no oftener achieved than they are can occasion no surprise when one understands the sort of spirit wherewith they are approached. If the average man adopted toward his business the attitude he adopts toward his religion he would be bankrupt within a week,--and he knows it. You know that the attention you are paying to religion and the sort of energy and sacrifice you are putting into it are insufficient to secure any sort of a result worth having. Spiritually speaking, your life is an example of misdirected and dissipated energy. There is no spiritual result because there is no continuous and energetic effort in a spiritual direction. You are not like a master-builder planning and erecting a house. You are like a child playing with a box of blocks who begins to build a house with them and, when it is half built, is attracted by something else and runs after that--not even waiting to put the blocks back into the box! Life, no doubt, this modern city life into which we are plunged, is terribly distracting. Concentration upon a single aim is hard to attain. So we plead in our excuse, but the excuse is a false one and we know it. We know it because we know many people who have achieved the sort of concentration and simplicity of aim that we complain of as so difficult. They to be sure have other ends than those we claim to be ours, but that would not seem to be important. By far the greater part of the male population of this city is intensely concentrated in money making. I do not believe that I have overheard during the last year two men talking in a car or on the street who were not talking about money. There is a good enough example of the possibility of concentrating on a single end under the conditions of our life. There are other people, you know some of them, whose lives are devoted in the most thorough manner to the pursuit of pleasure. They find no difficulty in such concentration, and they afford an even better example of what we are discussing than the money-makers. The money-maker says, "I have to live and my family has to live, and we cannot live unless I devote myself to business. It is all very well to talk about spiritual interests, but those are the plain common sense facts. A man who spends all his time on religion will find it pretty difficult to live in New York." Very well, that seems unanswerable. But go back to the men and women whose sole interest is amusement--how do they live? In some way they seem to have so succeeded in subordinating business to pleasure that they get what they want, and they somehow escape starvation! There, I fancy, is the explanation--they get what they want. In a broad way we all get what we want. We accomplish in some degree at least the ends which we make the supreme ends of life. We are back therefore where we started: What are our supreme ends? Are they in fact spiritual? Have we mastered the technique of the Christian life sufficiently to be single-eyed and pure-hearted in our pursuit of life's ends? Are we devoted to the aim of manifesting the glory of God and finishing the work that He has given us to do? This, once more, was the secret of our Lord's life, and it is the secret of all those who have at all succeeded in imitating Him. They have followed Him with singleness of purpose. They have felt life to be before all else a vocation to manifest the will of God and to finish a given work. That was the attitude of our Blessed Mother; she began on that note: "Behold the hand-maid of the Lord; be it unto me according to thy word." It was the Gospel that she preached: "Whatsoever he saith unto you, do it." Her whole life was a response--the response of love to love. That no doubt, goes to the heart of the spiritual problem. If we are to accomplish anything at all in the way of spiritual development, if we are to conduct life in simplicity toward spiritual ends, it will only be when the source of life's energy is found in love. He who does not love has no compelling motive toward God and no abiding principle to control life. If we conceive the Christian life as a task that is forced upon us, and which in some way we are bound to fulfil, we may be sure that the way in which we shall fulfil it will be weak and halting. We may be as conscientious as you please, but we shall not be able to concentrate on a work which is merely a work of duty and not the embodiment of a great love. Our primary activity should be devout meditation and study of our Lord's life, with prayer for guidance and help, till something of the love of God is shed abroad in our hearts, till we feel our hearts burn within us and our spirits glow and we become able to offer ourselves, soul and body, a living sacrifice unto Him. MARY: I cried: "Maudeleyn, help now! My Son hath loved full well thee; Pray Him that I may die, That I not forgotten be! Seest thou, Maudeleyn, now My Son is hanged on a tree, Yet alive am I and thou,-- And thou, thou prayest not for me!" MAUDELEYN said: "I know no red, Care hath smitten my heart sore. I stand, I see my Lord nigh dead; And thy weeping grieveth me more. Come with me; I will thee lead Into the Temple here before For thou hast now i-wept full yore." MARY: "I ask thee, Maudeleyn, where is that place,-- In plain or valley or in hill? Where I may hide in any case That no sorrow come me till. For He that all my joy was, Now death with Him will do its will; For me no better solace is Than just to weep, to weep my fill." The Maudeleyn comforted me tho. To lead me hence, she said, was best: But care had smitten my heart so That I might never have no rest. "Sister, wherever that I go The woe of Him is in my breast, While my Sone hangeth so His pains are in mine own heart fast. Should I let Him hangen there Let my Son alone then be? Maudeleyn, think, unkind I were If He should hang and I should flee." * * * * * I bade them go where was their will, This Maudeleyn and everyone, And by myself remain I will For I will flee for no man. From St. Bernard's "Lamentation On Christ's Passion." Engl. version, 13th Cent., by Richard Maydestone. PART TWO CHAPTER XIX THE DESCENT AND BURIAL And when Joseph had taken the body, he wrapped it in a clean linen cloth, and laid it in his own new tomb, which he had hewn out in the rock. S. Matt. XXVII, 59, 60. It is meet in very truth to bless thee the Theotokos, the ever-blessed and all-immaculate and Mother of our God. Honoured above the Cherubim, incomparably more glorious than the Seraphim, thou who without stain gavest birth to God the Word, and art truly Mother of God, we magnify thee. BYZANTINE. The end had come--so it must have seemed to those who had loved and followed our Lord. As they came back from the burial, those of them who had remained true to the end, as they came out of their hiding places, those others who forsook Him and fled, they met in that "Upper Room" which was already consecrated by so many experiences. They came back from Joseph's Garden, S. John leading the blessed Mother, the Magdalen and the other Mary following, S. Peter came from whatever obscure corner he had found safety in. The other Apostles came one by one, a frightened, disheartened group, shame-faced and doubtful as to what might next befall them. The thing that to us seems strangest of all is that no one seems to have taken in the meaning of our Lord's words about His resurrection. Not even S. Mary herself appears to have seen any light through the surrounding darkness. I suppose that so much of what our Lord taught them was unintelligible until after the coming of the Holy Spirit that they rarely felt sure that they understood His meaning; and when the meaning was so unprecedented as that involved in His sayings about the resurrection we can understand that they should have been so little influenced by them. S. Mary's grief would have been so deep, so overwhelming, that she would have been unable to think of the future at all save as a dreary waste of pain. She could only think that her Son who was all to her, was dead. She had stood by the Cross through all the agony of His dying: she had heard His last words. That final word to her had sunk very deep into her heart. She had once more felt His Body in her arms as it was taken down from the Cross; and she had followed to the place where was a Garden and a new tomb wherein man had never yet lain, there she had seen the Body placed and hastily cared for, as much as the shortness of the time on the Passover Eve would permit. And then she had gone away, not caring at all where she was taken, with but one thought monotonously beating in her brain,--He is dead, He is dead. It would not be possible in such moments calmly to recall what He Himself had taught about death. Death for the moment would mean what it had always meant to religious people of her time and circle. What that was we have very clearly presented to us in the talk with Martha that our Lord had near the place where Lazarus lay dead. There is a fuller knowledge than we find explicit in the Old Testament, showing a growth in the understanding of the Revelation in the years that fall between the close of the Old Testament canon and the coming of our Lord. There is a belief in survival to be followed by resurrection at the last day. That would no doubt be St. Mary's belief about death. That is still the belief of many Christians to-day. "I know that he shall rise again in the resurrection at the last day." There are still many who think that they have accepted the full Revelation of God in Christ who have not appreciated the vast difference that the triumph of Christ over death has made for us here and now. So we have no difficulty in understanding the gloom that fell on the Apostolic circle, accentuated as it was by the very vivid fear that at any moment they might hear the approaching feet of the Jewish and Roman officials and the knock of armed hands upon the door. What to do? How escape? Had they so utterly misunderstood and misinterpreted Christ that this is the natural outcome of His movement? Had they been the victims of foolish hopes and of a baseless ambition when they saw in Him the Christ, the one who should at this time restore again the Kingdom to Israel? They had persistently clung to this nationalistic interpretation of His work although He had never encouraged it; but it was the only meaning that they were able to see in it. And now all their expectations had collapsed, and they were left hopeless and leaderless to face the consequences of a series of acts that had ended in the death of their Master and would end, they knew not how, for them. Was it at all likely that the Jewish authorities having disposed of the leader in a dangerous movement would be content to let the followers go free? Would they not rather seek to wipe out the last traces of the movement in blood? So they would have thought, gathered in that Upper Room, while outside the Jewish authorities were keeping the Passover. What a Passover it was to them with this nightmare of a rebellion which threatened their whole place and power passed away. What mutual congratulations were theirs on the clever way in which the whole matter had been handled. There had been a moment when they were on the very point of failure, when Pilate was ready to let Jesus go free. That was their moment of greatest danger; and they took their courage in both hands and threw the challenge squarely in the face of the cowardly Governor: "If thou let this man go, thou art not Caesar's friend!" The chief priests knew their man, and they carried their plan against him with a determined hand, declining to accept any compromise, anything less than the death of Jesus. Great was the rejoicing; hearty were the mutual congratulations in the official circles of Jerusalem. It had been long since they had celebrated so wonderful a Passover as that! So limited, so mistaken, is the human outlook on life. They had but to await another night's passing and all would be changed. But in the meantime the position of the disciples was pitiful. They were in that state of dull, hopeless discouragement that is one of the most painful of human states. It is a state to which we who are Christians do from time to time fall victims with much less excuse. We are hopeless, we say and feel. We look at the future, at the problems with which we are fronted, and we see no ray of light, no suggestion of a solution. We have been robbed of what we most valued and life looks wholly blank to us. For those others there was this of excuse,--they did not know Jesus risen, they did not know the power of the resurrection life. For us there is no such excuse because we have a sure basis of hope in our knowledge of the meaning of the Lord. Hope is one of the great trilogy of Christian Virtues, the gift to Christians of God the Holy Ghost. As Christians we have the virtue of hope, the question is whether we will excercise it or no. It is one of the many fruits of our being in a state of grace. Many blunder when they think of hope in that they confound it with an optimistic feeling about the future. We hear of hopeful persons and we know that by the description is meant persons who are confident "that everything will be all right," when there seems no ground at all for thinking so. They have a "buoyant temperament," by which I suppose is meant a temperament which soars above facts. That not very intelligent attitude has nothing to do with the Christian virtue of hope. Hope is born of our relation to God. It is the conviction: "God is on my side; I will not fear what man can do unto me." It is the serene and untroubled trust of one who knows that he is safe in the hands of God, and that his life is really ordered by the will and Providence of God. This virtue, had they possessed it, would have carried the disciples through the crisis of our Lord's death. They had had sufficient experience of Him to know that they might utterly rely on Him in all the circumstances of their lives. He had always sustained them and carried them through all crises. They had often been puzzled by Him, no doubt; they had felt helpless to fathom much of His teaching, but they had slowly arrived at certain conclusions about Him which He Himself had confirmed. On that day at Caesarea Phillipi they had reached the conclusion of His Messiahship, a slumbering conviction had broken into flame and light in the great confession of S. Peter. The meaning of Messiahship was a part of their national religious tradition; and although in some important respects mistaken, they yet, one would think, have been led to perfect trust in our Lord when they acknowledged His Messianic claims. But death? They could not get over the apparent finality of death. But, again, perhaps we are not very far beyond this in our understanding of it. To us still death seems very final. But it was just that sense of its finality--of its constituting a hopeless break in the continuity of existence--that our Lord was engaged in removing during these days which to them were days of hopelessness and despair. When they came to know what in these days was taking place; and when the Church guided by the Holy Spirit came to meditate upon the meaning of our Lord's action it would see death in a changed light. The sense of a cataclysmic disaster in death would pass and be replaced by a sense of the continuity of life. Hitherto attention had been concentrated on this world, and death had been a disappearence from this world, the stopping of worldly loves and interests. Presently death would be seen to be the translation of the human being to a new sphere of activities, but involving no cessation of consciousness or failure of personal activities. Men had thought, naturally enough in their lack of knowledge, of the effect of death on the survivors, of the break in their relations with the dead. Now death would be viewed from the point of view of the interests of the person who is dead; and it would emerge that he continued under different conditions, and in the end it would come to be seen that even in the relations of the survivors with the dead there was no necessary and absolute break, but that the new conditions of life made possible renewed intercourse under altered circumstances. Our Lord, the disciples learned not long after, during these days went to preach to the spirits in prison, which the thought of the Church has interpreted to mean that He carried the news of the Redemption He had wrought through His dying, to the place of the dead, to the region where the souls of the faithful were patiently waiting the time of their perfecting. The doors of the heavenly world could not be opened till the time when He by His Cross and Passion, by His death and resurrection, opened them. The Heads of the Gates could not be lifted till they were lifted for the entrance of the King of Glory. But once lifted they were lifted forever; and when He ascended up on high He led His troop of captives redeemed from the bondage of death and hell. It is through these lifted Gates that the companies of the sanctified have been streaming ever since; and the difference that has been made in our view of death has been immense. If we have the faith of a Christian death has been transformed. There remains, of course, the natural grief which is ours when we part from those whom we love. This grief is natural and holy as it is in fact an expression of our love. It is not rebellion against the will of God, but is the expression of a feeling wherewith God has endowed us. But there is no longer in it the sting of hopelessness that we find, for instance, in the inscriptions on pagan tombs, nay, on tombs still, though created by Christians and found in Christian cemeteries. Rather it is the expression of a love which is learning to exercise itself under new conditions. We do not find it possible to reverse all our habits in a moment; and the new relation with the dead is one to which we have to learn to accustom ourselves. I remember a case where a mother and a son had never been separated for more than a day at a time, though he was far on in manhood. There came a time of indeterminate separation and the mother's grief was intense notwithstanding that there was no thought of a permanent separation. It took some time for her to accustom herself to the new mode of communication by letter. It is not far otherwise in death; it takes some time for us to accustom ourselves to the new mode of intercourse through prayer, but we succeed, and the new intercourse is very real and very precious. In a sense, too, it is a nearer, more intimate intercourse. It lacks the homely, daily touches, no doubt; but in compensation it reveals to us the spiritual values in life. We speedily learn, we learn almost by a spiritual instinct, what are the common grounds on which we can now meet. By our intercourse with our dead we get a new grasp on the truth of our common life in Christ: it is in and through Him that all our converse is now mediated. We have little difficulty in knowing what are the thoughts and interests which may be shared under the new conditions in which we find ourselves. Our perception of spiritual interests and spiritual values grows and deepens, and our communion with our dead becomes an indication of the extent of our own spiritual growth. There come times in the spiritual experience of most of us when we seem to have got to the end. There is a deepening sense of failure which is not, when we analyse it, so much a failure in this or that detail, as a general sense of the futility of the life of the Church as expressed in our individual lives. It came to those primitive congregations, you remember, to which S. Peter was writing; "Where is the promise of his coming? For since the fathers fell asleep, all things continue as they were from the beginning of creation." It is the weariness of continuous effort from which we conclude that we are getting quite insufficient results. No doubt that is true. The results are never what we expect, possibly because the effort is never what we imagine it to be. We continually underestimate the opposing force of evil, the difficulty of dealing with a humanity which falls so easily under the slightest temptation. It is not that sinners decline to hear the Word of God, but that those who profess themselves to be the servants of God, and who in fact intend to be such, are so lamentably weak and ineffective. We think of the effort of God in the Incarnation; we have been following that effort in some detail through the Passion. We are surprised, shocked, disheartened by the spectacle of the hatred that innocence stirs up, at the lengths men will go when they see their personal ends threatened. We are horrified by Caiphas, Pilate, Herod. But is that the really horrifying thing about the Passion of our Lord? To me the supreme example of human incomprehension is that all the disciples forsook Him and fled, that He was left to die almost alone. There we get the most disheartening failure in the tragedy. For we expect the antagonism of the world, especially that part of the world that has seen and rejected Christ. There we find Satanic activities. One of the outstanding features of the literature of to-day in the Western world, the world that had known from childhood the story of Jesus, is its utter hatred of Christianity; its revolt from all that Christianity stands for. This is markedly true in regard to the Christian teaching in the matter of purity. The contemporary English novel is perhaps the vilest thing that has yet appeared on this earth. There have been plenty of unclean books written in the course of the world's history--we have only to recall the literature of the Renaissance--but for the most part they have been written in careless or boastful disregard of moral sanctions which they still regarded as existing; but the novel of the present is an immoral propaganda--it is deliberately and of malice immoral, not out of careless levity, but out of deliberate intention. You do not feel that the modern author is just describing immoral actions which grow out of his story, but that he is constructing his story for the purpose of propagating immoral theory. He hates the whole teaching of the Christian Religion in the matter of purity. He has thrown it overboard on the ground that it is an "unnatural" restraint. To those who have studied the development of thought since the Renaissance there is nothing surprising in this. But what does still surprise those who are as yet capable of being surprised is the light way in which the mass of Christians take their religion. Occasionally, in moments of frankness, they admit that they are not getting anything out of it; but it is harder to get them to admit that the reason is that they are not putting anything into it. You do not expect to get returns from a business into which you are putting no capital, and you have no right to expect returns from a religion into which you are putting no energy. What is meant by that is that those Christians who are keeping the minimum routine of Christianity, who are going to High Mass on Sunday (or perhaps only to low Mass) and then making the rest of the day a time of self-indulgence and pleasure; who make their communions but rarely; who do not go to confession, or go only at Easter; who are giving no active support to the work of the Gospel as represented in parish and diocese have no right to be surprised if they find that they do not seem to get any results from their religion; that it is often rather a bore to do even so much as they do, and that they see no point in permitting it further to interfere with their customary amusements and avocations. I do not know what such persons expect from their religion, but I am sure that they will be disappointed if they are expecting any spiritual result. Naturally, they will be disappointed if they look in themselves for any evidence of the virtue of hope. The most that can be looked for under the circumstances is that mockery of hope, presumption. We are not to be discouraged in our estimate of the Christian Religion by this which seems to be the failure of God. We are not to echo the cry: "Since the fathers fell asleep, all things continue as they were from the beginning of the creation." S. Peter pointed out to those pessimists that all things do not continue the same, that there are times of crisis which are the judgments of God. Such a judgment was that of old which swept the wickedness of the world away, "whereby the world that then was, being overflowed with water, perished." He goes on to state that the present order likewise will issue in judgment: "The heavens and the earth which are now ... are kept in store, reserved unto fire against the day of judgment and perdition of ungodly men." What renders men hopeless is the feeling of God's inactivity; but this declaration of impending judgment certifies the active interest of God. God's dealing with the world is a perpetual judgment of which we are apt to decline the evidence until the cataclysm reveals the final scene. But every society, every individual life, is being judged through the whole course of its existence, and there is no need that either society or individual should be blind to the fact that such a judgment is taking place. There is no failure of God. There is a failure on our part to understand the works of God. We may very well consider the problem an individual one and ask ourselves what ground of hope we have. On the basis of our present effort can we, ought we, to have more than we have? The spiritual life is not an accident that befalls certain people; it is an art that is acquired by such persons as are interested in it. It is attained through the careful training and exercise of the faculties wherewith we have been endowed. The answer to our question is itself a perfectly simple one, as simple as would be the answer to the question: "Do you speak French?" We speak French if we have taken the trouble to learn French; and we have gained results in the way of spiritual development and culture if we have taken the trouble to do so. I do not know why we should expect results on any other ground than that. But certain persons say: "I have tried, and have not attained any results." Well, I should want to know what the trying means in that case. It is well for a person who aspires to spiritual culture to think of his past history. What sort of character-development has so far been going on? Commonly it happens that there has been no spiritual effort that is worth thinking about; but that does not mean that nothing spiritual has been happening. It means on the contrary that there has been going on a spiritual atrophy, the spiritual powers have been without exercise and will be difficult to arouse to activity. In such a case as that spiritual awakening will be followed by a long period of spiritual struggle against habits of thought and action which we have already formed, a period in which unused and immature spiritual powers must be roused to action and disciplined to use. The simplest illustration of this is the difficulty experienced by the enthusiastic beginner in holding the attention fixed on spiritual acts such as the various forms of prayer. In all such attempts at spiritual activity there will be the constant drag of old habits, the recurrence of states of mind and imagination that had become habitual. These hindrances can be overcome, but only by steady and rather tedious labour. They call for the display of the virtue of patience which is not one of the virtues characteristic of spiritual immaturity. Hence reaction and the feeling that one is not getting on, the feeling that we have quite possibly made a mistake about the whole matter. This is the place for the exercise of hope; and hope will come if we look away from our not very encouraging acquirement to the ground that we have for expecting any acquirement at all. If we ask: "Why hope?" we shall see that our basis of hope is not in ourselves at all but in God. We hope because of the promises of God, because of His will for us as revealed in His Son. "He loved us and gave Himself for us"; and that giving will not be in vain. "He gave Himself for me," I tell myself, "and therefore I am justified in my expectation of spiritual success." So one tries to learn from the present failure as it seems; so one repents and pushes on; so one learns that it is through tenacity of purpose that one attains results. And again: I am sustained by hope because I see that the results that I covet are not imaginary. They exist. I see them in operation all about me. I learn of them as I study the lives of other Christians past and present. They are reality not theory, fact not dream. And what has been so richly and abundantly the outcome of spiritual living in others must be within my own reach. The results they attained were not miraculous gifts, but they were the working of God the Holy Spirit in lives yielded to Him and co-operating with Him. Once more: is it not true that after a period of honest labour I do find results? Perhaps not all that I would like but all that I am justified in expecting from the energy I have spent? I do not believe that any one can look back over a year's honest labour and not see that the labour has born fruit. In any case the fact that we do not see just what we are looking for does not mean that no spiritual work is going on. It may seem that our Lord is silent and that to our cries there is no voice nor any that answers; but that may mean that we are looking in the wrong place or listening for the wrong word. The disciples looked that the outcome of our Lord's life should be that the Kingdom should be restored to Israel; and when they turned away from the tomb in Joseph's Garden they felt that what they had looked for and prayed for was hopeless of accomplishment. But the important point was not their vision of the Kingdom at all, but that they had yielded themselves to our Lord and become His disciples and lovers. This is not what they intended to do, but it is what actually had happened: and when the grave yielded up the dead Whom they thought that they had lost forever, Jesus came back with a mission for them that was infinitely wider than their dream: the mission of founding not the old Kingdom of David, but the Kingdom of David's Son. All their aspirations and prayers were fulfilled by being transcended, and they found themselves in a position vastly more important than had been reached even in their dreams. Something like that not infrequently happens in our experience. We conceive a spiritual ambition and work for a spiritual end, and seem always to miss it; and then the day comes when God reveals to us what He has been doing, and we find that through the very discipline of our failure we have been being prepared for a success of which we had not thought: and when we raise our eyes from the path we thought so toilsome and uninteresting, it is to find ourselves at the very gate of the City of God. It will be with us as with the Apostles who in the darkest hour of their imagined failure, when they were gathered together in hiding from the Jews were startled by the appearence among them of the risen Jesus, and were filled with the unutterable joy of His message of peace. "His body is wrappèd all in woe, Hand and foot He may not go. Thy Son, Lady, that thou lovest so Naked is nailed upon a tree. "The Blessèd Body that thou hast born, To save mankind that was forlorn, His body, Lady, the Jews have torn, And hurt His Head, as ye may see." When John his tale began to tell Mary would not longer dwell But hied her fast unto that hill Where she might her own Son see. "My sweete Son, Thou art me dear, Oh why have men hanged thee here? Thy head is closed with a brier, O why have men so done to Thee?" "John, this woman I thee betake; Keep My Mother for My sake. On Rood I hang for mannes sake For sinful men as thou may see. "This game alone I have to play, For sinful souls that are to die. Not one man goeth by the way That on my pains will look and see. "Father, my soul I thee betake, My body dieth for mannes sake; To hell I go withouten wake, Mannes soul to maken free." Pray we all that Blessed Son That He help us when may no man And bring to bliss each everyone Amen, amen, amen for Charity. Early English Lyrics, p. 146. From an MS. in the Sloane collection. PART TWO CHAPTER XX THE RESURRECTION And he saith unto them, Be not affrighted; ye seek Jesus of Nazareth, which was crucified: he is risen; he is not here. S. Mark XVI, 6. O God, who wast pleased that thy Word, when the angel delivered his message, should take flesh in the womb of the blessed Virgin Mary, give ear to our humble petitions, and grant that we who believe her truly to be the Mother of God, may be helped by her prayers. Through. O Almighty and merciful God, who hast wonderfully provided perpetual succour for the defence of Christian people in the most blessed Virgin Mary; mercifully grant that, contending during life under the protection of such patronage, we may be enabled to gain the victory, over the malignant enemy in death. Through. OLD CATHOLIC. Whatever may be our grief, however life may seem to have been emptied of all interest for us, nevertheless the routine of life reasserts itself and forces us back to the daily tasks no matter how savourless they may now seem. We speedily find that we are not isolated but units in a social order which claims us and calls on us to fulfil the duties of our place. Blessed Mary was led away from the tomb of her Son in the prostration of grief; but her very duty to Him would have forced her thought away from herself and led her to join in the preparations which were being made for the proper care of the Sacred Body. And in that sad duty she would find solace of a kind; there is an expression of love in the care we give our dead. This body now so helpless and unresponsive, has been the medium through which the soul expressed itself to us; it has been the instrument of love and the sacrament of our union. How well we know it! How well the mother knows every feature of her child, how she now lingers over the preparations for the burial feeling that the separation is not quite accomplished so long as her hands can touch and her eyes see the familiar features. In the pause that the Sabbath forced on the friends of Jesus we may be sure that they were making what preparations might be made under the restrictions of their religion, and that they looked eagerly for the passing of the Sabbath as giving them one more opportunity of service to the Master. There was the group of women who had followed Him and "ministered of their substance" who were faithful still. The Mother had no "substance"; she shared the poverty of her Son. Her support during the Sabbath would be the expectancy of looking once more upon His Face. But when the first day of the week dawned it proved to be a day of stupendous wonder. They, the Disciples and these faithful women, seemed to themselves, no doubt, to have passed into a new world where the presuppositions of the old world were upset and reversed. There were visions of angels, reported appearances of Jesus, an empty tomb. Through the incredible reports that came to them from various sources the light gradually broke for them. It was true then, that saying of Jesus, that He would rise again from the dead! It was not some mysterious bit of teaching, the exact bearing of which they did not catch, but a literal fact! And then while they still hesitated and doubted, while they still hid behind the closed doors, Jesus Himself came and stood in the midst with His message of peace. It is often so, is it not? While we are in perplexity and fear, while we think the next sound will be the knock of armed hands on the door, it is not the Jews that come, but Jesus with a message of peace. Our fears are so pathetic, so pitiful; we meet life and death with so little of the understanding and the courage that our Lord's promises ought to inspire in us! We stand so shudderingly before the vision of death, are so much appalled by the thought of the grave! We shudder and tremble as the hand of death is stretched out toward us and ours. One is often tempted to ask as one hears people talking of death: "Are these Christians? Do they believe in immortality? Have they heard the message of the first Easter morning, the angelic announcement of the resurrection of Christ? Have they never found the peace of believing, the utter quiet of the spirit in the confidence of a certain hope which belongs to those who have grasped the meaning of the resurrection of the dead?" Here in Jerusalem in a few days the whole point of view is changed. The frightened group of disciples is transformed by the resurrection experience into the group of glad and triumphant missionaries who will be ready when they are endowed with power from on high to go out and preach Jesus and the resurrection to the ends of the earth. What in these first days the resurrection meant to them was no doubt just the return of Jesus. He was with them once more, and they were going to take hope again in the old life, to resume the old mission which had been interrupted by the disaster of Calvary. All other feeling would have been swallowed up in the mere joy of the recovery. But it could not be many hours before it would be plain that if Jesus was restored to them He was restored with a difference. A new element had entered their intercourse which was due to some subtle change that had passed upon Him. We get the first note of it in that wonderful scene in Joseph's Garden when the Lord appears to the Magdalen. There is all the love and sympathy there had ever been; but when in response to her name uttered in the familiar voice the Magdalen throws herself at His Feet, there is a new word that marks a new phase in their relation: "Touch Me not, for I am not yet ascended." This new thing in our Lord which held them back with a new word that they had never experienced before must have become plainer each day. S. Mary feels no less love in her Son restored to her from; the grave, but she does not find just the same freedom of approach. S. John could no longer think of leaning on His Heart at supper as before. Jesus was the same as before. There was the same thoughtful sympathy; the same tender love; but it is now mediated through a nature that has undergone some profound change in the days between death and resurrection. The humanity has acquired new powers, the spirit is obviously more in control of the body. Our Lord appeared and disappeared abruptly. His control over matter was absolute. And in His intercourse with the disciples there was a difference. He did not linger with them but appeared briefly from time to time as though He were but a passing visitor to the world. There were no longer the confidential talks in the fading light after the day's work and teaching was over. There was no longer the common meal with its intimacy and friendliness. There was, and this was a striking change, no longer any attempt to approach those outside the apostolic circle, no demonstration of His resurrection to the world that had, as it thought, safely disposed of Him. He came for brief times and with brief messages, short, pregnant instructions, filled with meaning for the future into which they are soon to enter. What did it mean, this resurrection of Jesus? It meant the demonstration of the continuity of our nature in our Lord. The Son of God took upon Him our nature and lived and died in that nature. Our pressing question is, what difference has that made to us? How are _we_ affected? Has humanity been permanently affected by the resumption of it by God in the resurrection? If the assumption of humanity by our Lord was but a passing assumption; if He took flesh for a certain purpose, and that purpose fulfilled, laid it aside, and once more assumed His pre-incarnate state, we should have difficulty in seeing that our humanity was deeply affected by the Incarnation. There would have been exhibited a perfect human life, but what would have been left at the end of that life would have been just the story of it, a thing wholly of the past. It is not much better if it is assumed that the meaning of the resurrection is the revelation of the immortality of the human spirit, that in fact the resurrection means that the soul of Jesus is now in the world of the spirit, but that His Body returned to the dust. We are not very much interested in the bare fact of survival. What interests us is the mode of survival, the conditions under which we survive. We are interested, that is to say, in our survival as human beings and not in our survival as something else--souls. A soul is not a human being; a human being is a composite of soul and body. It is interesting to note that people who do not believe in the resurrection of our Lord, do not believe in our survival as human beings, consequently do not believe in a heaven that is of any human interest. But we feel, do we not? a certain lack of interest in a future in which we shall be something quite different in constitution from what we are now. We can think of a time between death and the resurrection in which we shall be incomplete, but that is tolerable because it is disciplinary and temporary and looks on to our restitution to full humanity in the resurrection at the Last Day. And we feel that the promise, the certainty of this is sealed by our Lord's resurrection from the dead. We are certain that that took place because it is needful to the completion of His Work. The Creed is one: and if one denies one article one speedily finds that there is an effect on others. The denial of the resurrection is part and parcel of the attempt to reduce Christianity to a history of something that once took place which is important to us to-day because it affords us a standard of life, a pattern after which we are to shape ourselves. Else should we be very much in the dark. We gain from the Christian Revelation a conception of God as a kindly Father Who desires His children to follow the example of His Son. That example, no doubt, must not be pressed too literally, must be adapted to modern conditions; but we can get some light and guidance from the study of it. Still, if you do not care to follow it nothing will happen to you. It is merely a pleasing occupation for those who are interested in such things. The affirmation of the resurrection, on the other hand, is the affirmation of the continuity of the work of God Incarnate; it is an assertion that Christianity is a supernatural action of God going on all the time, the essence of which is, not that it invites the believer to imitation of the life of Christ, so far as seems practical under modern conditions, but that it calls him to union with Christ; it makes it his life's meaning to recreate the Christ-experience, to be born and live and die through the experience of Incarnate God. It fixes his attention not on what Jesus did but on what Jesus is. It insists on a present vital organic relation to God, mediated by the humanity of Jesus; and if there be no humanity of Jesus, if at His death He ceased to be completely human, then there is no possibility of such a relation to God in Christ as the Catholic Religion has from the beginning postulated; and unless we are to continue human there seems no continuing basis for such a relation to one another in the future as would make the future of any interest to us. For us, as for S. Paul, all our hope hangs on the resurrection of Christ from the dead; and if Christ be not risen from the dead then is our faith vain. For us then, as for the men who wrote the Gospel, and for the men who planted the Church and watered it with their blood, the resurrection of Jesus means the return of His Spirit from the place whither it had gone to preach to the spirits in prison and its reunion with the Body which had been laid in the tomb in Joseph's Garden, and the issuing of perfect God and perfect man from that tomb on the first Easter morning. That humanity had, no doubt, undergone profound changes to fit it to be the perfect instrument of the spirit of Christ Jesus henceforward. It is now the resurrection body, the spiritual body of the new man. We understand that it is now a body fitted for the new conditions of the resurrection life, and we also understand that it is the exemplar of what our risen bodies will be. They will be endowed with new powers and capacities, but they will be human bodies, the medium of the spirit's expression and a recognisable means of intercourse with our friends. We lie down in the grave with a certainty of preserving our identity and of maintaining the capacity of intercourse with those we know and love. That is what really interests us in the future which would be uninteresting on other terms; and that is what our Lord's appearances after the resurrection seem to guarantee. He resumed a human intercourse with those whom He had gathered about Him. He continued His work of instruction and preparation for the future. And when at length He left them they were prepared to understand that His departure was but the beginning of a new relation. But also they would feel much less that there was an absolute break with the past than if He had not appeared to them after the Crucifixion, and they had been left with but a belief in His immortality. They would, too, now be able to look on to the future as containing a renewal of the relations now changed, to read a definite meaning into His promises that where He is there shall His servants be. It is much to know that we are immortal: it is much more to know that this immortality is a human immortality. One feels in studying the pre-Christian beliefs in immortality that they had very little effectiveness, and that the reason was that there was no real link connecting life in this world with life in the next. Death was a fearful catastrophe that man in some sense survived, but in a sense that separated his two modes of existence by a great gulf. Man survived, but his interests did not survive, and therefore he looked to the future with indifference or fear. This life seemed to him much preferable to the life which was on the other side of the grave. So far as the Old Testament writings touch on the future world, they touch upon it without enthusiasm. There is an immense difference between the attitude of the Old Testament saint toward death and that, for instance, of the early Christian martyr. And the difference is that the martyr does not feel that death will put an end to all he knows and loves and set him, alive it may be, but alive in a strange country. He feels that he is about to pass into a state of being in which he will find his finer interests not lost but intensified. At the center of his religious expression is a personal love of Jesus and a martyr's death would mean immediate admission to the presence and love of His Master. He would--of this he had no shadow of doubt--he would see Jesus, not the spirit of Jesus, but the Jesus Who is God Incarnate, whose earthly life he had gone over so many times, Whom he felt that he should recognise at once. Death was not the breaking off of all in which he was interested but was rather the fulfilment of all that he had dreamed. And this must be true always where our interests are truly Christian interests. It is no doubt true that we find in Christian congregations a large number of individuals whose attitude toward death and the future is purely heathen. They believe in survival, but they have no vital interest in it. I fancy that there are a good many people who would experience relief to be persuaded that death is the end of conscious existence, that they do not have to look forward to a continuous life under other conditions. And this not at all, as no doubt it would in some cases be, because it was the lifting of the weighty burden of responsibility for the sort of life one leads, because it was relief from the thought of a judgment to be one day faced, but because the world to come, as they have grasped its meaning, is a world in which they have no sort of interest. Our Lord in His Presentation of the future does actually point us to the natural human interest by which our affection will follow that which we do in fact value. "Where your treasure is, there will your heart be also." But the class of whom I am thinking have no treasures. Notwithstanding some sort of conformity to the Christian Religion, conceived most likely under the aspect of a compulsory moral code, there is nothing in their experience that one can call a love of our Lord, no actually felt personal affection for Him that makes them long to see Him. There were those with whom they had intimately lived and whom they had loved and who have passed through the experience of death, but in the years that have passed they have become used to living without them and there is no passionate longing to be with them again. There are no interests in their lives which when they think of them they feel that they can carry with them to the world beyond. Whatever they have succeeded in accumulating in life is hardly to be regarded as heavenly treasure! There then is the vital centre of the Christian doctrine of the world to come,--that it is a life continuous with this life, not in bare existence, but in the persistence of relations and interests upon which we have entered here. At the center of that world as it is revealed to us, is Jesus Christ, God in our nature, and about Him ever the saints of His Kingdom, who are still human with human interests, and who look on to the time when the fulness of humanity will be restored to them by the resurrection of the body. The interests that are vital here are also the interests that are vital there, the interests of the Kingdom of God. As the Christian thinks of the life of the world to come he thinks of it as the sphere in which his ambitions can be and will be realised, where the ends of which he has so long and so earnestly striven will be attained. His life has been a life given to the service of our Lord and to his Kingdom, and it had, no doubt, often seemed to small purpose; it has often seemed that the Kingdom was not prospering and the work of God coming to naught. And then he looks on to the future and sees that the work that he knows is an insignificant fragment of the whole work; and he thinks with longing of the time when he shall see revealed all that has been accomplished. He feels like a colonist who in some outlying province of an empire is striving to promote the interests of his Homeland. His work is to build up peace and order and to civilise barbarous tribes. And there are days when the work seems very long and very hopeless; and then he comforts himself with the thought that this is but a corner of the empire and that one day he will be relieved and called home. There at the centre he will be able to see the whole fact, will be able to understand what this colony means, and will rejoice in the slight contribution to its upbuilding that it has been his mission to make. The heart of the Christian is really in the Homeland and he feels acutely that here he is on the Pilgrim Way. But he feels too that his present vocation is here and that he is here contributing the part that God has appointed him for the upbuilding of the Kingdom, and that the more he loves our Lord and the more he longs for Him the more faithfully and exactly will he strive to accomplish his appointed work. They are right, those who are continually reproaching Christians with having a centre of interest outside this world; but we do not mind the reproach because we are quite sure that only those will have an intelligent interest in this world who feel that it does not stand by itself as a final and complete fact, but is a single stage of the many stages of God's working. We no more think it a disgrace to be thinking of a future world and to have our centre of interest there than we think it a disgrace for the college lad to be looking forward to the career that lies beyond the college boundaries and for which his college is supposed to be preparing him. We do not consider that boy ideal whose whole time and energy is given to the present interests of a college, its athletics, its societies, and in the end is found to have paid so little attention to the intellectual work that he is sent there to perform that he fails to pass his examinations. Christians are interested in this world because it is a province of the Kingdom of God and that they are set here to work out certain problems, and that they are quite sure that the successful solution of these problems is the best and highest contribution that they can make to the development of life in this world. They do not believe that as a social contribution to the betterment of human life a saint is less valuable than an agnostic professor of sociology or an atheistic socialistic leader; nor does the Christian believe that strict attention to the affairs of the Kingdom of God renders him less valuable as a citizen than strict attention to a brewery or a bank. A whole-hearted Christian life which has in view all the relations of the Kingdom of God in this or in any other world, which loves God and loves its neighbour in God, is quite the best contribution that a human being can make to the cause of social progress. If it were possible to put in evidence anywhere a wholly Christian community I am quite convinced that we should see that our social problems were there solved. I think then we shall be right to insist that what is needed is not less otherworldliness but more: that more otherworldliness would work a social revolution of a beneficent character. The result might be that we should spend less of our national income on preparations for war and more in making the conditions of life tolerable for the poor; that we should begin to pay something of the same sort of care for the training of children that we now bestow on the nurture of pigs and calves. We might possibly look on those whom we curiously call the "inferior races" as less objects of commercial exploitation and more as objects of moral and spiritual interest. We shall no doubt do this when we have more fully grasped what the resurrection of Christ has done and made possible. It is no account of that resurrection to think of it as a demonstration of immortality. It only touches the fringes of its importance when we think of it as setting the seal of divine approval upon the teaching of Jesus. We get to the heart of the matter when we think of the risen humanity of our Lord as having become for us a source of energy. The truth of our Lord's life is not that He gave us an example of how we ought to live, but that He provided the power that enables us to live as He lived. Also He gave us the point of view from which to estimate life. The writer of the Epistles to the Hebrews uses a striking phrase when he speaks of "the power of an endless life." Is not that an illuminating phrase when we think of our relation to our Lord? His revelation of the meaning of human life has brought to us the vision of what that life may become and the power to attain that end. The fact of our endlessness at once puts a certain order into life. Things, interests, occupations fall into their right places. There are so many things which seem not worth while because of the revelation of the importance of our work. Other things there are which we should not have dared to undertake if we had but this life in which to accomplish them. But he who understands that he is building for eternity can build with all the care and all the deliberation that is needed for so vast a work. There is no haste if we select those things which have eternal value. We can undertake the development of the Christian qualities of character with entire hopefulness. The very conception of the beauty and perfectness of the fruits of the Spirit might discourage us if our time were limited. But if we feel that the work we have done on them, however elementary and fragmentary, as long as it is honest and heartfelt, will not be lost when death comes, then we can go securely on. We can go on in any spiritual work we have undertaken without that sense of feverish haste lest death overtake us and put an end to our labour which so affects men in purely secular things. To us death is not an interruption. Death does not destroy our human personality, nor does it destroy our interest in anything that like us is permanent. We feel perfectly secure when we have identified ourselves with the business of the Kingdom of God. Then we almost feel the throb of our immortality; the power of an endless life is now ours. We have not to wait for death and resurrection to endue us with that power because it is the gift of God to us here, that gift of enternal life which our Lord came to bestow upon us. Only the gift which we realise imperfectly or not at all at its bestowal we come to understand in something of its real power; and henceforth we live in the possession and fruition of it, growing up "into Him in all things, which is the Head, even Christ." Hail, thou brightest Star of Ocean; Hail, thou Mother of our God; Hail, thou Ever-sinless Virgin, Gateway of the blest abode. Ave; 'tis an angel's greeting-- Thou didst hear his music sound, Changing thus the name of Eva-- Shed the gifts of peace around. Burst the sinner's bonds in sunder; Pour the day on darkling eyes; Chase our ills; invoke upon us All the blessings of the skies. Show thyself a watchful Mother; And may He our pleadings hear, Who for us a helpless Infant Owned thee for His mother dear. Maid, above all maids excelling, Maid, above all maidens mild, Freed from sin, oh, make our bosoms Sweetly meek and undefiled. Keep our lives all pure and stainless, Guide us on our heavenly way, 'Till we see the face of Jesus, And exult in endless day. Glory to the Eternal Father; Glory to the Eternal Son; Glory to the Eternal Spirit: Blest for ever, Three in One. PART TWO CHAPTER XXI THE FORTY DAYS To whom also he showed himself alive after his passion by many infallible proofs, being seen of them forty days, and speaking of the things pertaining to the kingdom of God. Acts I, 3. Open unto us the door of thy loving kindness, O blessed Mother of God; we have set our hope on thee, may we not be disappointed, but through thee may we be delivered from adversity, for thou art the saving help of all Christian people. O Mother of God, thou who art a deep well of infinite mercy, bestow upon us thy compassion; look upon thy people who have sinned, and continue to make manifest thy power. For thee do we trust, and to thee do we cry, Hail! even as of old did Gabriel, the chief of the angelic hosts. RUSSIAN. These Forty Days that intervened between our Lord's resurrection and ascension must have been utterly bewildering in the experience of the Apostles. Our Lord was once more with them; He had come back from the grave; that would have been the central experience. But in His intercourse with them He was so changed, the same and yet with a vast difference. We think of the perplexed group of the disciples gathered in the familiar place, going over the recent facts and trying to adjust themselves to them. Just what is the difference that death and resurrection have made, we hear them discussing. Is it that He appears and disappears so strangely, not coming any longer to be with them in the old way, with the old familiar intercourse? There is obviously no failure in Himself, no decline in love; but there is a decline in intimacy. They themselves feel a strange awe in His presence such as they had not been accustomed to feel in the past. They feel too that this restrained intercourse is but temporary, that at any moment it may end. The instructions He is giving them are so obviously final instructions, fitting them for a future in which He will not be with them. Amid all this perplexity we try to see Our Lady and to get at her mind. She was no doubt in the small group eagerly waiting our Lord's coming, dreading each time He left them that He would return no more. One thinks of her as less bewildered than the others because her interest was more concentrated. She had no problems to work out, no perplexities to absorb her; she had simply to love. Life to her was just love--love of the Son Whom she had brought forth and Whom she had followed so far. She lived in His appearings; and between them she lived in remembrance of them. One does not think of her as dwelling very much on what He says, but as dwelling upon Him. The thought of Him absorbs her. She has passed into that relation to our Lord that in the years to come many souls will strive to acquire--the state of absorbed contemplation, the state in which all things else for the time recede and one is alone with God. God so fills the soul that there is room there for nothing else. For the Apostles these were days of immense importance as days in which they were compelled to reconstruct their whole view of the meeting of our Lord's mission and of their relation to it. They came to these days with their settled notion about the renewed Kingdom of Israel and of our Lord's reign on earth which His teaching hitherto had not been able to expel; but now they are compelled to see that the Kingdom of God of which they are to be the missionaries is a Kingdom in another sense than they had so far conceived it. It differs vastly from their dream of an Israelite empire. It is no doubt true that this mental revolution is of slow operation, and that even when certain truths are grasped it will still take time to grasp them in all their implications. For long their Judaism will impede their full understanding of the meaning of the Kingdom of God. It will be years before they can see that it is a non-Jewish fact and that other nations will stand on an equality with them. But they will by the end of the Forty Days have grasped the fact that they are not engaged in a secular revolution and are not entering on a career of worldly power. They will be ready for their active ministry after Pentecost, a ministry of spiritual initiation into the Kingdom of God. When in response to their preaching men asked the question: "Men and brethren, what shall we do?" They were ready with their answer: "Repent and be baptised every one of you in the name of Jesus Christ for the remission of sins, and ye shall receive the gift of the Holy Ghost." So the Forty Days were filled with new meanings emerging from the old teaching, of suddenly grasped significance in some saying of our Lord that they had assumed that they understood but in reality had attributed little meaning to. It is one of the striking things about our relation to spiritual truth that we can go on for long thinking that we are attaching a meaning to something which in fact, it turns out, has meant almost nothing to us. Some day a phrase which we have often read or repeated suddenly is lighted up with a significance we had never dreamed of. We have long been looking some truth in the face, but in fact it has never laid hold of us; we have made no inferences from it, deduced no necessity of action, till on a day the significance of it emerges and we are overwhelmed by the revelation of our blunder, of our stupidity. The fact is that we assume that our conduct is quite right, and we interpret truth in the light of our conduct rather than interpret conduct in the light of truth. It is the explanation, I suppose, of the fact that so many people read their Bible regularly without, so far as one can see, the reading having any effect upon their conduct. The conduct is a settled affair and they are finding it reflected in the pages of the Gospel. Their minds are already definitely made up to the effect that they know what the Gospel means, and that is the meaning that they put into the Bible. One does not know otherwise how to account for the fact that it is precisely those who think themselves "Bible Christians" who are farthest from accepting the explicit teaching of the Bible. If there is anything plain in the New Testament it is that the whole teaching of our Lord is sacramental. If anything is taught there one would think it was the nature and obligation of baptism, the Presence of our Lord in the Sacrament of the Altar, the gift of Confirmation, the meaning of absolution. Yet it is to "Bible Christians" that sacraments appear to have no value, are things which can be dispensed with as mere ornaments of the Christian Religion. I wonder if we have wholly got beyond that point of view? I wonder if we have got a religious practice which is settled or one that is continually expanding? I wonder if we force our meaning on the Bible or if we are trying to find therein new stimulus to action? That in truth is the reason for reading the Holy Scriptures at all--to find therein stimulus, stimulus for life; that we may see how little or how much our conduct conforms to the ideal set out there. We do not read to learn a religion, but to learn to practice the religion that we already have. Now to take just one point in illustration. The commission of our Lord to His Church in the person of the Apostles was a commission to forgive sins. "He breathed on them, and saith unto them, Receive ye the Holy Ghost: whosesoever sins ye remit, they are remitted unto them; and whosesoever sins ye retain, they are retained." As to how in detail, this commission is to be exercised is a matter for the Church to order as the circumstances of its life require. As I read my Bible certain facts emerge: I am a sinner; Christ died for my sins; He left power in His Church for the forgiveness of sin--of my sin. And then the question arises: What is the bearing of all that on my personal practice? Have I settled a practice for myself to which I am subjecting the teaching of the Bible and the Church? Or am I alert to see a contrast or a contradiction between my practice and the teaching of the Bible and the Church, if such exist? Now there are many people in the Church who make no use of the sacrament of penance, and there are many others who make use of it very sparingly. It is clear that either they must be right, or the Bible and the Church must be right. It is clear that such persons, to press it no farther, are imposing the interpretation of their own conduct on the teaching of the Christian Religion and asserting by their constant practice that that interpretation is quite inadequate, notwithstanding the contrary practice of the entire Catholic world. That, to put it mildly, is a very peculiar intellectual and spiritual attitude. We can most of us, I have no doubt, find by searching somewhere in our religious practice parallel attitudes toward truth. We have settled many questions in a sense that is agreeable to us. We cannot tell just how we got them settled, but settled they are. Take a very familiar matter which greatly concerns us in this parish dedicated to the Blessed Virgin Mary, the question of the honour and reverence due to our Blessed Mother. We had got settled in our practice that certain things were right and certain wrong. I doubt if a very intelligent account of this--why they were right or wrong--could, in many cases have been given. But the settled opinion and practice was there. And then came the demand for a review; that we look our practice squarely in the face and ask, "What is the ground of this? Does it correspond with the teaching of Scripture and of the Catholic Church? And if it does not, what am I going to do about it? Have I only a collection of prejudices there where I supposed that I had a collection of settled truths? Do I see that it is quite possible that I may be wholly wrong, and that I am hindered by pride from reversing my attitude?" For there is a certain pride which operates in these matters of belief and practice as well as elsewhere. We are quite apt to pride ourselves on our consistency and think it an unworthy thing to change our minds. That is rather a foolish attitude; changing one's mind is commonly not a mark of fickleness but of intellectual advance. It means oftentimes the abandonment of prejudice or the giving up of an opinion which we have discovered to have no foundation. This is rather a large universe in which we live, and it is improbable that any man's thought of it at any time should be adequate. Intellectual progress means the assimilation of new truths. The Christian Religion is a large and complex phenomenon, and any individual's thought of it at any time must be, in the nature of things, an inadequate thought. Progress in religion means the constant assimilation of new truths--new, that is, to us. Surely it is a very peculiar attitude to be proud of never learning anything, making it a virtue to have precisely the same opinions this year as last! I should be very much ashamed of myself if a year were to pass in which I had learned nothing, had changed my mind about nothing. In religion, one knows that the articles of the Faith are expressed in the dogmatic definitions of the Church; but one will never know, seek as one will, all that these mean in detail, all that they demand in practice. And our only tolerable attitude is that of learners constantly seeking to fill up the _lacunae_ in our beliefs and practice. In fact, any living Christian experience is always in process of adjustment. Those who conceive a dogmatic religion as an immovable religion, as a collection of cut and dried formulae which each generation is expected to learn and repeat and to which it has no other relation, are quite right in condemning that conception, only that is not, in fact, what the Christian Religion is. The content of the Christian dogmas is so full and so complex that there is never any danger of intellectual sterility in those who are called to deal with them; and their application to life is so rich and so manifold that there is not the least danger that those who set out to apply them to the problems of daily existence will become mere formalists. The attempt to live a truly Christian life is a never-ending, inexhaustible adventure. Only those can miss this fact who have utterly misconceived Christianity as a barren set of prohibitions, warning its devotees off the field of great sections of human experience. There are those who appear to imagine that the primary business of Christianity is to deal with sin, and that in order to keep itself occupied it has to invent a large number of unreal sins. Unfortunately sin, as the deliberate rejection of the known will of God, exists; and, fortunately, the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ Who came into the world to save sinners also exists. We can be unendingly thankful for that. But it is also true that the action of Christianity is not exhausted in the negative work of dealing with sin. Christianity is primarily a positive action for the bringing about and development of the relation of the soul with God in the state of union. We may say that Christianity has to turn aside from this its proper business of developing the spiritual life to the preliminary work of dealing with sin which kills spirituality and hinders its development. But it is not necessary to make the blunder of assuming that this dealing with sin is the essential work of Christianity because it has so continually to be at it, any more than it is necessary to assume that the essential work of a farmer is the digging up of weeds. Surely it would be no adequate treatise on agriculture which would confine itself to description of the nature of weeds and of methods of dealing with them. There is a branch of theology which deals with sin, the methods of its treatment and its cure; but there are also other branches of theology: and the direction of the Holy Scripture is not to get rid of sin and stop; but having done that, to go on to perfection. Christian experience is a constant process of adjustment, a constantly growing experience. By the study of the Christian revelation it is always finding new meanings in old truths, new modes of application of familiar practices. This simply means that the Christian is alive and not a fossil. It means that his relation to our Lord is such that it opens to him inexhaustible depths of experience. It is easy to see this in the concrete by taking up the life of almost any saint. It is easy to trace the growth of S. John from the young fisherman, fiery, impatient, who wished to call down fire from heaven upon his adversaries as Elijah did, and gained the rebuke: "Ye know not what manner of spirit ye are of," to the mature and supremely calm and simple experience which is reflected in the Gospel and Epistles. It is easy to trace the development of the impulsive, zealous Pharisee that Paul of Tarsus was, through all the stages of spiritual growth that are reflected in his Letters, till he is Paul the aged waiting to depart and be with Christ "which is far better." You can study it in the confessions of S. Augustine in its first stage and follow it through its later stages in his letters and other writings, and in many another saint beside. If you have any spiritual experience at all you can trace it in your own case: you have grown, not through dealing with sin, but through the pursuit of ideal perfection, that perfection which is set before you by the Christian Religion. You may not feel that you have gone very far: that is not the point at present; you know that you have found a method by which you may go on indefinitely; that there is no need that you should stop anywhere short of the Beatific Vision. You do know that your religion is not the deadening repetition of dogmas which the unbeliever conceives it to be, but is the never ceasing attempt to master the inexhaustible truth that is contained in your relation to our Lord. You do know that however far you have gone you feel that you are still but on the threshold and that the path before your feet runs out into infinity. Let us go back again to our examination of the experience of the Apostles. When we examine their training we find there, I think, two quite distinct elements both of which must have had a formative influence upon their ministry. In the first place there was the element of dogmatic teaching. There is a class of persons who are accustomed to tell us that there is no dogma in the New Testament, by which they appear to mean that the particular dogmatic affirmations of the Creed are not formulated in the pages of the New Testament, but are of later production. That, no doubt, is true; but nevertheless it would be difficult to find a more dogmatic book than the New Testament, or a more dogmatic teacher than was our Lord. And our Lord taught the Apostles in a most definite way the expected acceptance of His teaching because He taught it. "He taught as one having authority, and not as the scribes," it was noted. The point about the teaching of the scribes was that it was traditional, wholly an interpretation of the meaning of the Old Testament. It made no claim to originality but rather based its claim on the fact it was not original. Our Lord, it was noticed, did not base His claim on tradition. In fact He often noticed the Jewish tradition for the purpose of marking the contrast between it and His own teaching. "Ye have heard that it hath been said of old time ... but I say unto you." He commonly refused to give an explanation of what He had said, but demanded acceptance on His authority. He brought discipleship to the test of hard sayings, and permitted the departure of those who could not accept them. He cut across popular prejudices and took small account of the "modern mind" as expressed by the Sadducees. He expected the same unhesitating submission from the Apostles whom He was training, though it was also a part of their training to be the future heralds of the Kingdom that they should have the "mysteries of the Kingdom" explained to them. But from the time when Jesus began to preach, saying "the Kingdom of Heaven is at hand," He preached and taught with the same unhesitating note of certainty, and with the same demand for intellectual submission on the part of those who heard Him. And that continues to the end. During the Forty Days, the few sayings that have come to us have the same ring of authority, of dogmatic certainty. The result was that when the Apostles went out to teach they were equipped with a body of truth which they presented to the world in the same unhesitating way. Indeed, that is the only way in which the central truths of the Christian Faith can be presented. They are not the conclusions of argument, which may be taken up and argued over again to the end of the world,--they are the dicta of revelation. We either know them to be true because they have been revealed, or we do not know them to be true at all. They are mysteries, that is, truths beyond the possibility of human finding which have been made known to man by God Himself. They are the appropriate data of religion and what distinguishes it from philosophy. The presence of mystery in philosophy is annoying, and the aim is to get rid of it, but a religion without mystery is absurd. Religion deals with the fundamental relations between God and man and the light it brings us must be a supernatural light. Such a religion in its presentation naturally cut across the preconceptions of the traditionalists in Jerusalem to whom nothing new could be true, as across the preconceptions of the sophists of Athens, to whom nothing that was not new was interesting. This dogmatic equipment was but one side, however, of the Apostolic training for their future work, a training to which the finishing touches, so to say, were put during the Forty Days. The other side of the training was the impression upon them of the Personality of our Lord, the effect of their close association with Him. This has an importance that dwarfs all other influences of the time; and we feel all through the Gospel that it was what our Lord himself counted upon in forming them for their mission. In the beginning "He chose twelve to be with Him," and their day by day association with Him was constantly changing their point of view and reforming their character. It was not the teaching, the explanation of parables, or the sight of the miracles; it was the silent effect of a personality that was in contact with them constantly and was constantly presenting to them an ideal of life, an ideal of absolute submission to the will of the Father and of utter consecration to the, mission that had been committed to Him. We all know this silent pressure of life upon life. We have most of us, I suppose, experienced it either from our parents or from friends in later life; and we can through that experience of ours attempt the explanation of our Lord's influence on the Apostles. There were not only the hours of formal teaching--they, in a way, were perhaps the less important from our present point of view. We have more in mind the informal talks that would go on as they went from village to village in Galilee, or as they gathered about the door of some cottage in the evening or sat in the shelter of some grove during the noon-day heat. It was just talk arising naturally out of the incidents of the day, but it was always talk guided by Jesus--talk in which Jesus was constantly revealing Himself to them, impressing upon them His point of view, making plain his own judgment upon life. And when we turn to His formal teaching we realise how revolutionary was His point of view in regard to life, how He swept aside the customary conventions by which they were accustomed to guide life, and substituted the radical principles that they have left on record in the Sermon on the Mount for the perplexity of a world yet far from understanding them. Evidently the Apostles would find their accustomed values tossed aside and a wholly new set of values presented to them. I suppose we find it difficult to appreciate how utterly revolutionary the Gospel teaching continually is, not because we have become accustomed to follow it, but because we have got used to hearing it and evacuating it of most of its meaning by clever glossing. It was thus that the teaching classes in Jerusalem avoided the pressure of Old Testament ideals by a facile system of interpretation which made "void the Word of God by their traditions." Human nature has not altered; and we succeed by the same method in making the Gospel of none effect. We are so well accustomed to do this that we lose the point and pungency of much of our Lord's teaching. But we know that the apostles did not. We know that they presented that teaching in all its sharpness to would-be disciples. It could not be otherwise with those who for three years had been in day by day intimacy with our Lord and had assimilated His point of view and his judgment on life. One effect of their contact with our Lord in the days following the resurrection would be that whatever changes the passage to a new level of existence had wrought in Him, it had not changed either the tone of His teaching or the beauty and attractiveness of His Personality. The concluding charges that were given them, the great commission of proclaiming the Kingdom with which they were now definitely endued, the powers which were committed to them in the great words: "All power is given unto me in heaven and in earth. Go ye therefore and teach all nations, baptising them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost: Teaching them to observe all things whatsoever I have commanded you: and, lo, I am with you alway, even unto the end of the world," would but confirm and strengthen all that had gone before in their experience of Him. The Jesus of the resurrection was no pale ghost returned from the grave, intermittently to appear to them to assure them of the fact of immortality. He was "the same Jesus" Whom they had known for three years, and whose return from the dead triumphant over the powers that had opposed Him, set quite plainly and definitely the seal of indisputable authority upon all the teaching and the example that had gone before. The period of their probation was over: The commission was theirs: It remained that they should abide in Jerusalem until they should be "endued with power from on high." Proclaimed Queen and Mother of a God, The Light of earth, the Sovereign of saints, With pilgrim foot up tiring hills she trod, And heavenly stile with handmaids' toil acquaints; Her youth to age, her health to sick she lends; Her heart to God, to neighbor hand she bends. A Prince she is, and mightier Prince doth bear, Yet pomp of princely train she would not have; But doubtless, heavenly choirs attendant were, Her Child from harm, herself from fall to save: Word to the voice, song to the tune she brings, The voice her word, the tune her ditty sings. Eternal lights enclosèd in her breast Shot out such piercing beams of burning love, That when her voice her cousin's ears possessed The force thereof did force her babe to move: With secret signs the children greet each other; But, open praise each leaveth to his mother. Robert Southwell, S.J. 1560-1595. PART TWO CHAPTER XXII THE ASCENSION And it came to pass, while he blessed them, he was parted from them, and carried up into heaven. S. Luke XXIV, 51. O Mother of God, since we have obtained confidence in thee, we shall not be put to shame, but we shall be saved. And since we have obtained thy help and thy meditation, O, thou holy, pure, and perfect one! We fear not but that we shall put our enemies to flight and scatter them. We have taken unto us the shelter of thy mighty help in all things like a shield. And we pray, and beseech thee that we may call upon thee, O Mother of God, so that thou deliver us through thy prayers. And that thou mayest raise us up again from the sleep of darkness, to offer praise through the might of God Who took flesh in thee. COPTIC. There would be no doubt of the finality of our Lord's physical withdrawal this time. As the group of disciples stood on the hilltop in Galilee and watched the clouds close about Him, they would feel that this was the end of the kind of intercourse to which they had been accustomed. The past Forty Days would have done much to prepare them for the separation. Their conception of our Lord's work as issuing in the establishment of an earthly Kingdom had been swept away; the changed terms of their intercourse with Him in the resurrection state had emphasised the change that had taken place; His teaching during these weeks which was centered on the work of the future in which they were to carry on the mission He had initiated; all these elements prepared them for the definite withdrawal of the ascension. Nevertheless we can understand the wrench that must have been involved in His actual withdrawal. We face the dying of some one we love. We know that it is a matter of weeks; the weeks shorten to days, and we are "prepared" for the death; but what we mean is that the death will not take us by surprise. However prepared we may be, the pain of parting will be a quite definite pain; there is no way of avoiding that. We know that there was no way for the disciples to avoid the pain of the going of Jesus. It was not the same sort of pain that they felt now, as they gazed up from the hill top to the cloud drifting into the distance, as the pain that had been theirs as they hurried trembling and affrighted through the streets of Jerusalem on the afternoon of the Crucifixion. This pain had no sting of remorse for a duty undone, or of fear for a danger to be met. It was the calm pain of love in the realisation that the parting is final. We know that among the group that watched the receding cloud the eyes that would linger longest and would find it hardest to turn away would be those of the Blessed Mother. Her mission about our Lord during all these past years had been a very characteristically womanly mission, a mission of silence and help and sympathy. She was with the women who ministered to Him, never obtrusive, never self-assertive; but always ready when need was. It was the silent service of a great love. That is the perfection of service. There are types of service which claim reward or recognition. We are not unfamiliar in the work of the Kingdom with people who have to be cajoled and petted and made much of because of what they do. Verily, they have their reward. But the type we are considering, of which the Blessed Mother is the highest expression, is without thought of self, being wholly lost in the wonder of being permitted to serve God at all. To be permitted to give one's time and personal ministry to our Lord in His Kingdom and in His members is so splendid a grace of God that all thought of self is lost in the joy of it. We know that S. Mary could have had no other thought than the offering of her love in whatever way it was permitted to express itself; and we know that the quality of that love was such that the moment of the ascension would have left her desolate, watching the cloud that veiled Him from her eyes. All of which does not mean that we are wrong when we speak of the ascension as one of the "Glorious Mysteries" of S. Mary. There we are viewing it in its wide bearing as S. Mary would come to view it in a short while. When the meaning of the ascension became plain, when under the guidance of the Holy Spirit, S. Mary was able to view her Son as "the One Mediator between God and man, the man Christ Jesus," when she was able to think of the human nature that God had taken from her as permanently enthroned in heaven,--then would all this be to her creative of intense joy. We, seeing so clearly what the ascension essentially meant, can think of it as a mystery of intense joy, but as our Lord passed away from sight the passing would for the moment be one last stab of the sword through this so-often wounded heart. There would be no lingering upon the hill top. The angel messengers press the lesson that the life before them is a life of eager contest, of energetic action. Jesus had indeed gone in the clouds of heaven, but they were reminded that there would be a reappearance, a coming-again in the clouds of heaven, and in the meantime there was much to do, work that would require their self-expenditure even unto death. Back must they go to Jerusalem and there await the opening of the next act of the drama of the Kingdom of God. As we turn to the Epistles of the New Testament and to the slowly shaping theology of the early Church, we find set out for us the nature of our Lord's heavenly activity; we see the full meaning of His Incarnation. The human nature which the Son of God assumed from a pure Virgin, He assumed permanently. He took it from the tomb on the resurrection morning, he bore it with Him from the Galilean hill to the very presence of uncreated God. When the Gates lift and admit the Conqueror to heaven, what enters heaven is our nature, what is enthroned at the Right Hand of God is man, forever united to God. And when we ask, "What is the purpose of this?" The answer is that it is the continual purpose of the incarnation, the purpose of mediatorship between the created and the uncreated, between God and man. The constant purpose of the incarnation is mediation--of the need of mediation there is no end. Our Lord's work was not finished, though there are those who appear to believe that it was finished, when, as a Galilean Preacher He had taught men of the Father: nor was it finished when He bought redemption for us on the Cross, and triumphing over death in the resurrection, returned to heaven at the ascension. There is a very real sense in which we can say that all those acts were the preliminaries of His work, were what made the work possible. We then mean by His work the age-long work of building the Kingdom of Heaven, and through it bringing souls to the Father. To insist perhaps over-much: We are not saved by the memory of what our Lord did, we are saved by what He now does. We are saved by the present application to us of the work that was wrought in the years of His earthly life. We need to grasp this living and present character of our Lord's work if we will understand the meaning of His mediation. There is a gulf between the divine, the purely spiritual, and the human, which needs some bridge to enable the human to cross it. That bridge was thrown across in the incarnation when God and man became united in the Person of the second Person of the ever blessed Trinity. When God the Son became incarnate, God and man were forever united and the door of heaven was about to swing open. Henceforth from the demonstrated triumph of our Lord in the Ascension the Kingdom of Heaven is open to all believers, and there is an ever-ready way of approach to God the Blessed Trinity by the Incarnate Person of the Son Who is the One Mediator between God and man. Whoever approaches God, whoever would reach to the Divine, must approach by that path, the path of Jesus Who is the Way, the Truth and the Life. He is the Way to God: and that Way is one that we follow by participation in His nature, by being taken up into Him. We do not reach God by thinking about our Lord, or by believing about our Lord: thinking and believing are the preliminaries of action. There are wonderful riches in the King's Treasury, but you do not get them because you think of them or because you believe that they are there. You get them when you go after them. And you get the ends of the Christian Religion not because you believe them to exist, but because you go after them in the way in which Christ directed. Inasmuch as He is the Way to the Father, we reach the Father by being made one with the Son, by being made a member of Him, by being taken into Him in the life of union. "No man cometh unto the Father but by me," He says. And the process of coming is by believing all that He said and acting upon His Word to the uttermost. Those who by partaking of the Sacraments are in Christ have passed by His mediation to the knowledge of the Father. For a road can be travelled in either direction. Christ is the road by which we come to the Father, to participation in the life of the Blessed Trinity; but also we can think of Him as the road by which the Father comes to us. We can think of ourselves as drawing near to God in His Beloved Son: I love to think the other way of the road, of God drawing near to me, of God pouring of His riches into human life and elevating that life to His very Self. I like to think of the Christian life as a life to which God continually communicates Himself, till we are filled "with all the fulness of God." Can we imagine any more wonderful expression of the life of holiness to which we are called than that? We "grow up into Him in all things." That is the true account of the Christian life, not some thin and dull routine of moral duty, but the spiritual adventure of the road that travels out into the infinite pursuit of spiritual accomplishment till it is lost in the very heart of God. This was the starting point of Blessed Mary. She was filled with all the fulness of God from the moment of her conception, and was never separated from the joy of the great possession. We are born in sin and have to travel the road to the very end. Yet we, too, begin in union, because we are born of our baptism into Christ soon after our natural birth, and our problem is to achieve in experience the content of our birthright. In other words: our feet are set in the Way from the beginning, and our part is to keep to the Way and not wander to the right hand or to the left; that this may be possible for us Christ lived and died and to-day is at the Right Hand of the Father where He ever liveth to make intercession for us. We need never walk without Christ. The weariness of the journey is sustained by His constant and ready help. The way is lighted by the Truth which is Himself, and the life that we live is His communicated life. "I live, yet not I, but Christ liveth in me." There are those who find the road godward, the road of the Christ-life, wearisome because they keep their eyes fixed on the difficulties of the way and treat each step as though it were a separate thing and not one step in a wonderful journey. The way to avoid the weariness of the day's travel is to keep one's eye fixed on the end, to raise the eyes to the heavens where Jesus sitteth enthroned at the Right Hand of the Father. The day's song is the Sursum Corda,--"Lift up your hearts unto the Lord!" The mediatorial office of our Lord is exercised chiefly through His Sacrifice. He ever liveth to make intercession for us; and this intercession is the presentation of the Sacrifice that He Himself offered once for all in Blood upon the Cross, and forever presents to the Father in heaven "one unending sacrifice." This heavenly oblation of our Lord which is the means wherethrough we approach pure Divinity, is also the Sacrifice of the Church here on earth. The heavenly Altar and the earthly Altar are but one in that there is but one Priest and one Victim here and there. The Eucharistic Sacrifice is the Church's presentation of her Head as her means of approach to God, as the ground of all her prayers. These prayers make their appeal through Jesus Who died and rose again for us and is on the Right Hand of Power. We know of no other way of approach, we plead no other merit as the hope of our acceptance. Let us be very clear about this centrality of our Lord's mediation because I shall presently have certain things to say which are often assumed to be in conflict with his Mediatorial Office, but which in reality do not so conflict, but exist at all because of the Office. We approach Divinity, then, through our Lord's humanity; and we at once see how that teaching, so common to-day, which denies the Resurrection of our Lord's Body, and believes simply in the survival of His human soul strikes at the very heart of the Catholic Religion. If Revelation be true, our approach to God is rendered possible because there is a Mediator between God and man, the MAN Christ Jesus. All our prayers have explicitly, or implicitly, this fact in view. All our Masses are a pleading of this fact. How great is our joy and confidence when we realise this! We come together, let us say, on Sunday morning at the High Mass. We are coming to offer the Blessed Sacrifice of our Lord's Body and Blood. But who, precisely, is to make the offering? When we ask what this congregation is, what is the answer? The congregation is the congregation of Christ's Flock: it is the Body of Christ gathered together for the worship of Almighty God. The act that is to be performed is the act of a Body, not primarily of individuals. Our participation in the act of worship in the full sense of participation is conditioned upon our being members of the Body. If we are not members of the Body we have no recognised status as worshippers. No doubt we each one have our individual aspirations and needs which we bring with us, but they are the needs and aspirations of a member of the Body of Christ, and our ability to unite them with the act that is to be performed grows out of our status as members of the Body; as such, we join our own intention to the sacrificial act and make our petitions through it. But we are here as offerers of the Sacrifice, and may not neglect our official significance, and attempt to turn the Mass into a private act of worship. We, then, the Body of Christ in this place, offer the Sacrifice of Christ. What is the status of the priest? He is a differentiated organ of the Body, not created by the Body, but created by God in the creation of the Body. He is not separate from the Body, an official imposed upon it from the outside, nor is he a creation of the Body set apart to act upon its behalf. He is one mode of the expression of the Body's life--the Body could not perfectly perform its functions without him any more than a physical body can perfectly function without a hand or an eye. But neither has the priest any existence apart from the Body of which he is a function. The Sacrifice that he offers is not his on behalf of the Body, but the Body's own Sacrifice which is made through his agency. But a complete body has a head; and of the Body which is the Church the Head is Christ. We, the members, have our life from Him, the Head; we are able at all to act spiritually because of our union with Him. He is our life; and the acts of the Body are ultimately the acts of the Head. The Sacrifice which the Body offers as the means of its approach to Divinity is One Sacrifice of the Head: and the priestly function of the Body has any vitality because it is Christ Who is its life, Who functions through the priest, Who is, in fact, the true Priest. He Himself is both Sacrifice and Priest; and that which is offered here is indentical with that which is offered there. Our life flows from our Head, is the life of Christ in us. So closely are we associated with Him that we are called His members, the instrument through which His life expresses itself, through which He acts. By virtue of the life of Christ of which all we are partakers, we are not only members of Christ, but members one of another. Our spiritual life is not our own affair, but we have duties one to another, and all the members of the Body are concerned in our exercise of our gifts, have, in fact, claims on the exercise of them. This mutual inherence of the members of the Body and these obligations to one another are in strict subordination to the Head; but they are very real duties and privileges which are ours to exercise. What we are concerned with at present is that from, this view of them that I have been presenting there results the possibility and obligation of intercession; the love and care of the members for one another is exercised in their prayers for one another. This privilege of intercession is one of the privileges most widely valued and most constantly exercised throughout the Church. Days of intercession, litanies, the offering of the Blessed Sacrifice with special intention, the constant requests for prayers for objects in which people are interested, all testify to the value we place on the privilege. Here is one action in regard to which there is no doubting voice in Christendom. But curiously, and for some reason to me wholly unintelligible, there are a great many who think of this right and duty of intercession between the members of the One Body as exclusively the right and duty of those who are living here on earth; or at least if it pertain to the "dead" it is in a way in which we can have no part. One would think--and so the Catholic Church has always thought--that those whom we call dead, but who are really "alive unto God" with a life more intense, a life more spiritually clear-visioned, than our own, would have a special power and earnestness in prayer, and that a share in their intercessions is a spiritual privilege much to be valued. They are members with us of the same Body; death has not cut them off from their membership, rather, if possible, it has intensified it, or at least their perception of what is involved in it. They remain under all the obligations of the life of the Body and consequently under the obligation to care for other members of the Body. The intercession of the saints for us is a fact that the Church has never doubted and cannot doubt except under penalty of denying at the same time the existence of the Body. That certain members of the Church have of late years doubted our right to invoke the saints, to call upon them for the aid of their prayers, is true; but there seems no ground for rejecting the tradition of invocation except the rather odd ground that we do not know the mode by which our requests reach them! As there are a good many other spiritual facts of which we do not know the mode, I do not think that we need be deterred from the practice of invocation on that ground: certainly the Church has never been so deterred. It is strange how little people attempt to think out their religion, and especially their obligation to religious practice. I have so often heard people say, when the practice of invocation of saints was urged: Why ask the saints? Why not go directly to God? And these same people are constantly asking the prayers of their fellow Christians here on earth! Suppose when some pious soul comes to me and asks me if I will not pray for a sick child, or a friend at sea, I were to reply: "Why come to me? Why not go directly to God?" I should be rightly thought unfeeling and unchristian. But that is precisely what the same person says when I suggest that the saints or the Blessed Mother of God be invoked for some cause that we have in hand! A person comes to me and asks my prayers, and I go to a saint and ask his prayers on precisely the same basis and for precisely the same reason, namely, that we are both members of the Body of Christ and of one another. We have the right to expect the interest and to count on the love of our fellow-members in Christ. We go to the saints with the same directness and the same simplicity with which we go to the living members of the Body, living, I mean in the Church on earth. If it be not possible to do that, then death has made a very disastrous break in the unity of the Body of Christ. And if we can count so without hesitation upon the love and sympathy and interest of the saints, surely we can count upon finding the same or greater love and sympathy in the greatest of all the saints, our blessed Mother, who is also the Mother of God. She in her spotless purity is the highest of creatures. She by her special privilege has boundless power of intercession; not power as I have explained before, because of any sort of favouritism, but power because her spiritual perfection gives her unique insight into the mind of God. Power in prayer really means that, through spiritual insight we are enabled to ask according to His will "And this is the confidence that we have in him, that, if we ask anything according to his will, he heareth us." That is why righteousness is the ground of prevailing intercession, because righteousness means sympathetic understanding of the mind of God. And in none is there such sympathetic understanding because in none is there such nearness to God, as in Blessed Mary. To go to her in our prayers and to beg her to intercede for us is, of course, no more a trenching upon the unique mediatorship of our Lord than it is to ask my human friend to pray for me. We tend, do we not? to select from among the circle of our acquaintance those whom for some reason we feel to have what we call a special power in prayer when we seek for some one to pray for us in our need. Is it not wholly natural then that we should go to our Blessed Mother on whose sympathy we can unfailingly count and in whose spiritual understanding we can implicitly trust, when we want to interest those who are dear to our Lord in our special needs? We have every claim upon their sympathy because they are fellow-members of the same Body; and we know, too, that He Who has made us one in His Body wills that we should receive His graces through our mutual ministrations. Mary, Maiden, mild and free, Chamber of the Trinity, A little while now list to me, As greeting I thee give; What though my heart unclean may be, My offering yet receive. Thou art the Queen of Paradise, Of heaven, of earth, of all that is; Thou bore in thee the King of Bliss Without or spot or stain; Thou didst put right what was amiss, What man had lost, re-gain. The gentle Dove of Noe thou art The Branch of Olive-tree that brought, In token that a peace was wrought, And man to God was dear: Sweet Ladye, be my Fort, When the last fight draws near. Thou art the Sling, thy Son the Stone That David at Goliath flung; Eke Aaron's rod, whence blossom sprung Though bare it was, and dry: 'Tis known to all, who've looked upon Thy childbirth wondrous high. In thee has God become a Child, The wretched foe in thee is foiled; That Unicorn that was so wild Is thrown by woman chaste; Him hast thou tamed, and forced to yield, With milk from Virgin breast. Like as the sun full clear doth pass, Without a break, through shining glass, Thy Maidenhood unblemished was For bearing of the Lord: Now, sweetest Comfort of our race, To sinners be thou good. Take, Ladye dear, this little Song That out of sinful heart has come; Against the fiend now make me strong, Guide well my wandering soul: And though I once have done thee wrong, Forgive, and make me whole. Wm. De Shoreham's translation from the Latin, or French of Robt. Grosseteste; C. 1325. PART TWO CHAPTER XXIII THE DESCENT OF THE HOLY SPIRIT And there appeared unto them cloven tongues like as of fire, and it sat upon each of them. And they were all filled with the Holy Ghost, and began to speak with other tongues, as the Spirit gave them utterance. Acts II, 3. Holy Mother of God, Virgin ever blessed, glorious and noble, chaste and inviolate, O Mary Immaculate, chosen and beloved of God, endowed win singular sanctity, worthy of all praise, thou who art the Advocate for the sins of the whole world; O listen, listen, listen to us, O holy Mary, Pray for us. Intercede for us. Disdain not to help us. For we are confident and know for certain that thou canst obtain all that thou wiliest from thy Son, our Lord Jesus Christ, God Almighty, the King of ages, Who liveth with the Father and the Holy Ghost, for ever and ever. MS. Book of Cerne, belonging to Ethelwald, BP. of Sherbourne, 760. "When the Day of Pentecost was fully come, they were all with one accord in one place"--I suppose the "all" will be not merely the "twelve," but the "all" that were mentioned by S. Luke a few verses before. He mentions the Apostles by name and then adds, "These all continued with one accord in prayer and supplication, with the women, and Mary the mother of Jesus, and with his brethren." We think of our Lady as sharing in the Pentecostal gift. This was the first act of her ascended Son, this sending forth of the Holy Spirit whom He had promised. It was the fulfilment of the prophecy: "I will pour out my Spirit upon all flesh; and your sons and your daughters shall prophesy, and your young men shall see visions, and your old men shall dream dreams." I do not know of anything in the teaching of the Church to lead us to suppose that this gift was to the Apostles alone: rather the thought of the Church is that to all Christians is there a gift of the Spirit. The Holy Spirit is imparted to the Church as such, and within the organisation He functions through appropriate organs. "There are diversities of gifts, but the same Spirit." Whatever the operations of God through the Body of Christ, the same divine energy is making them possible. "All these worketh that one and selfsame Spirit, dividing to every man severally as he will." That the Holy Spirit should manifest Himself in her life was, of course, no new experience for S. Mary. Her conscious vocation to be the Mother of God had begun when the Holy Ghost had come upon her, and she had conceived that "Holy Thing" which was called the Son of God. And we cannot think that the Spirit Who is the Spirit of sanctity had ever been absent from her from the moment of her wonderful conception when by the creative act of the Spirit she was conceived without sin, that is, in union with God. But as there are diversities of gifts, so the coming of the Spirit on Pentecost would have meant to her some new or increased gift of God. For the Church as such this coming of the Spirit meant the entrance of the work of the Incarnation upon a new phase of its action. We may, I suppose, think of the work of our Lord during the years of His Ministry as intensive. It was the work of preparing the men to whom was to be committed the commission to preach the Kingdom of God. They had been chosen to be with Him, and their training had been essentially an experience of Him, an experience which was to be the essence of their Gospel and which their mission was to interpret to the world. "Who is this Jesus of Nazareth Whom ye preach? What does He mean?" was to be the question that they would have to answer in the coming years; and they would have to answer it to all sorts of men; to Jews who would find this conception of a suffering and rejected Messiah "a stumbling-block"; to the Greeks who would find "Jesus and the resurrection" "foolishness"; to all races of men who would have to be persuaded to leave their ancestral religions and revolutionise their lives, and before they would do so would wish to know what was the true meaning of Christ in whose name their whole past was challenged. As we watch the perplexity, the bewilderment, of these Apostles in the face of the collapse of all their hopes on the first Good Friday, as we see them struggling with the fact of the Resurrection, and attempting to adjust their lives to that; and then listen to their preaching and follow their action in the days succeeding Pentecost, we have brought home to us the nature of the action of the Holy Spirit when He came to them as the Spirit of Jesus to enable them to carry on the work that Jesus had committed to them. We understand that the work of the Spirit was first of all the work of interpreting the experience of the last three years. During these years they had been with Jesus, and the result was an experience which, however wonderful, or rather, just because it was wonderful, was in their consciousness at present little more than a chaotic mass of impressions and memories. It was the work of the Spirit to enkindle and illuminate their understanding so that they could put the experiences of the last three years in order, if one may put it in that way. He enabled them to draw out the meaning of what they had gone through. We are at once impressed with the reality of the work of the Spirit when we listen to the sermon of S. Peter to those who have witnessed the miracle of Pentecost. Here is another miracle of which we have, perhaps, missed something of the wonder. This man who in answer to the mockeries of the crowd--"these men are full of new wine"--stands forth to deliver this exposition of Jesus is the same man who but a few days before had denied his Lord through fear; he is the same man who even after the Resurrection was filled with such discouragement that he could think of nothing to do but to return to the old life of a fisherman, who had said on a day, "I go a-fishing." If we wish to understand the meaning of the coming of the Spirit, let us forget for the moment the tongues of fire, which are the symbol, and read over the words of S. Peter which are the true miracle of Pentecost. And this action of the Spirit is not sporadic or temporary. We follow the annals of the Church and we find the constant evidence of the Spirit's power and action in the Christian propaganda. The courage with which the Christians meet the opposition of Jews and Romans, in their resourcefulness in dealing with the utterly unprecedented problems they are called on to face, in the intellectual grip of the Apologists who have to meet the criticism of very diverse sets of opponents, in their rapidly growing comprehension of what the Incarnation means, and of all in the way of action that our Lord's directions involve,--all these, when we recall the antecedents of these men, lead us to a clearer apprehension of the nature of the Spirit's work in the Church. As our Lord had promised, He is bringing "all things to their remembrance" and "leading them into all the truth." If we need proof of the constant supernatural action of God in the Church, we get all we can ask in the preaching of Jesus by His followers in these opening years of their ministry. I said that our Lord's work in the time of His ministry was intensive, the preparing of instruments for the founding of the Kingdom. With Pentecost and the coming of the Spirit it passes into a new stage; it becomes _extensive_ in that it now reaches out to gather all men into the Kingdom. To this end there is now a vast development of the machinery (so to call it) of the Gospel, a calling into existence of the means whereby Christ is to continue His action in men's souls. For there must continue a direct action of Christ or the Gospel will sink to the condition of a twice-told tale: it will be the constant repetition of the story of Jesus of Nazareth Who went about doing good: and it will have less and less power to be of any help to men as it receeds into the past. Without the means which are called into existence to produce continual contact between the Redeemer and the Redeemed we cannot conceive of the Gospel continuing to exist as power. This is not a matter of pure theory: it is a thing that we have seen happen. We have seen the growth of a theory of Christianity which dispenses wholly or nearly wholly with the means of grace, and reduces the presentation of the Gospel to the presentation of the ideal of a good life as an object of imitation. When one asks: "Why should I imitate this life which, however good in an abstract way, is not very harmonious with the ideals of society at present?" one is told that it is the best life ever lived, the life that best interprets God, our heavenly Father to us. If one asks: "What is likely to happen if one does not imitate this life, but prefers some more modern type of usefulness?" the answer seems to be: "Nothing in particular will happen." In other words, the preaching of the Gospel divorced from the means of grace tends more and more to decline to the presentation of a humanitarian ideal of life which has little, and constantly less, driving power. We see then as we study the history of the early days of the Church the constant presence and action of the Holy Spirit in the mode and means by which the Gospel is presented. We see it particularly in the development of the ministry and the growth of the sacramental system. It seems to me not very important to find a detailed justification of all the things that were done or established in explicit words or acts in the New Testament. If we are dealing, as we believe that we are, with an organism of which the life is God the Holy Ghost Who is the Vicar of Christ in the building and administration of His Kingdom, I do not see why we should not find in the action of the Kingdom as much of inspiration as we find in its writings. I do not see why we should accept certain things on the authority of the action of the early Christian community, as the baptism of infants and the communion of women, and reject others, as the reservation of the Blessed Sacraments and prayers for the dead. Nor do I see why we should draw some sort of an artificial line through the history of the Church and declare all the things on one side of it primitive and desirable, and all on the other late and suspect! Especially as no one seems to be able to explain why the line should be drawn in one place rather than in another. If the Holy Spirit was sent by our Lord as His Vicar to preside in the Church, as I suppose we all believe, it was in fulfilment of our Lord's promise to be with it till the end of the world and that the gates of hell should not prevail against it. There is nothing anywhere in Holy Scripture indicating that the Holy Spirit was to be sent to the "primitive Church," even if any one could tell what the primitive Church is, or rather when the Church ceased to be primitive. The Holy Spirit is present as a guide to the Church to-day quite as fully as He was in the first century. His presence then was not a guarantee that all men should believe the truth or do the right, nor is it now. The state of Christendom is a sufficient evidence of the ability of men to defy the will of God, the Holy Spirit; but that does not mean that the Holy Spirit has withdrawn any more than the state of things at Corinth which called out S. Paul's two Epistles to that Church is a proof that God the Holy Ghost never came or did not stay with that primitive Christian community. The power of the Spirit is not an irresistible power, but a spiritual influence which will guide those who are willing to be guided, who will to be submissive to His will. But the will of God can always be resisted--and always is. Nevertheless the Holy Spirit is in the Church. He shaped and is shaping its beliefs and institutions: and to-day we trust that He is leading us back to His obedience that we may at length realize the unity of the Spirit in the bonds of peace. The work of the Holy Spirit in the individual Christian is a constructive work; it has in view the growth of the child of God in holiness. He makes the soul of the baptised His dwelling-place and wishes to remain there as in His Temple, carrying on the work of its sanctification. The state of guiltlessness that follows absolution is not the equivalent of sanctity. Guiltlessness is a negative, sanctity is a positive state, and is acquired as the result of active correspondence with the will of God. In order that there may be this correspondence the will of God must be known, not merely as we know the things that we have learned by rote, but known in the sense of understood and appreciated. The will of God is knowable: that is, it has been revealed to man; but it needs to be effectively made known to the individual man. He must be convinced of the importance of divine truth to him. We know that just there is the supremely vital point in the teaching of the truth. Men assent to truth as true; but they are not thereby necessarily moved to act upon it: it may remain unassimilated. The vast majority of the people of this country, if they were questioned, would assert a belief in God; but a surprising number of them are unmoved by that belief, are led by it to no action. Or take the membership of any parish; they would all profess a belief in the efficacy of the sacraments: yet there is a surprisingly large number who do not frequent the sacraments. How many of you, for example, make your confessions and communions with the frequency and regularity that your theory about the sacraments implies? Now it is the work of the Holy Spirit to effect the passage in life from theory to practice, from profession to action. He illuminates the mind that we may understand; He stirs the will that we may act. He aids us to overcome the intellectual and physical sloth which is the arch-enemy of Christian practice. He intercedes for us, and He pleads with us that we may act as the children of God that we believe ourselves to be. But all He can do is to entice the will; if we remain unwilling, unmoved, He is ultimately grieved and leaves us. We may hope that that despair of the Holy Spirit of a soul rarely happens because it is a spiritual disaster awful to contemplate. In most men and women we can see enough impulse toward God, enough struggle with evil, to encourage us to think that the Holy Spirit has not utterly abandoned them. And it is never safe for us to judge definitely of another's spiritual case; but we do see lives that are so given over to malignancy that our hope for them is an optimism which has small basis on which to rest. In most we may be certain that there is going on a very active pleading of the Holy Spirit. He is interpreting the meaning of the truth we accept. He is present in a careful reading of the Bible, in meditation, in devotional study. He receives of Christ and shows it unto us. I am sure we ought to think more of this interpretative assistance of the Holy Spirit in the work of understanding the Christian Religion, especially in its application to the daily life. I am quite certain, and I have no doubt that the experience of some of you, at least, will bear me out, that it makes a vast difference in the results of our reading and study if we undertake it under the direct invocation of the Holy Spirit and with the conscious giving ourselves up to His guidance. We have to make a meditation, for example, and we begin with prayer to God the Holy Ghost for guidance and enlightenment. It is often well to let that prayer run on as long as it will. It may be in the end that instead of making the meditation we had planned we shall have spent the time in a prayer of union with the Holy Spirit and will find ourselves refreshed and enlightened as the result. There is need of that sort of yielding of self to the promptings of the Spirit. I think that it not infrequently happens that our rules get in the way of His action by destroying or checking in us a certain flexibility which is necessary if we are to respond quickly to the voice of the Spirit. As in the case just mentioned where the Spirit is leading us to communion with Him we are apt to think: "I must get on with my meditation or the time will be up and I shall not have made it," and we turn from the Spirit and stop the work that He was accomplishing. He has so much to do for us, so many things to show us, so many grounds to urge for our more earnest seeking of sanctity. The true point of our Bible reading is that it is the opportunity of the Holy Spirit to exhibit truth to us so that in us it will become energetic. We already are familiar with the incidents of our Lord's Passion. If it be a matter of knowledge there is no need to-night to take up the Gospel and read the chapters which tell of the Crucifixion. There is not much point in reading through a chapter as a matter of pious habit. It is extraordinary how many there are who speak with contempt of "mediæval prayers" such as the recitation of the Rosary, who yet "read a chapter" once a day in the shortest possible time and with the minimum of attention. We can think of all religious practices as opportunities that we offer to God the Holy Ghost. The few verses of Holy Scripture we read may well be the medium of His action upon us. He may give us new insight into their meaning, He may stir our wills to correspondence with their teaching, He may kindle our hearts by the evidence of the divine love that He presses home. Who does not remember moments when new meaning seemed to flash from the familiar pages, when we felt ourselves convicted of inadequate response to the knowledge we have, or when we felt our heart stir and send us to our knees in an act of thanksgiving and love? Our constant need is the clear knowledge of ourselves. We may, we often do, see clearly God's will, and then we deceive ourselves as to the nature of our response. We think we are seeking for God when in reality we are seeking our own ends. We make our own plans and then seek to impose them on the will of God. Self-seeking, which we mistake for something else, is at the root of much spiritual failure. We try to believe that God's will is our will, and we succeed in a measure. We need therefore to be constantly examining ourselves by the revealed standard of God's will, to let in the light of the Spirit on our judgments and acts. For the struggle of the Spirit for control is a struggle with a resisting and sluggish will. We see, but we do not move; we know, but we do not act. The horrible inertia of spiritual sloth paralyses us, and the call of the Spirit is heard in vain. Like the man in our Lord's parable we plead the lateness of the hour, and our unwillingness to disturb others as our excuse for not rising at the Spirit's summons. But the Spirit, like the Friend at midnight, still knocks at the door, and the sound of the summons penetrates the quietness of the house and breaks in upon our slumbers. Well is it for us if in the end we rise and open to Him. It is only as we thus become energetic by the yielding to God of our wills that He can go on to His desired work. The aim of God in dealing with our lives is creative. He wills that we bring forth fruit, and the fruit that He wills that we bring forth is the Fruit of the Spirit. The general notion of holiness analyses into these qualities which are the evidence of God's indwelling, of His actual possession of the soul. When the soul yields at last to the divine will and begins to follow the divinely indicated course of action, then it loses self and finds God, then the results begin to show in the growth of the character-qualities that we call fruits or virtues. The presence or the absence of these is infallible evidence of the Spirit's success or failure in His work in us. If we abide in Christ, then the natural results of such abiding must be forthcoming. "I am the vine, ye are the branches: He that abideth in me, and I in him, the same bringeth forth much fruit: for without me ye can do nothing." A vine bears fruit because it assimilates the natural elements which are furnished it by the Providence of God through earth and air and water, and works them into the fruit which is the end, the meaning of its existence. Our Lord through the constant operation within us of the Holy Spirit gives us the spiritual power to work over the endowments of nature and the opportunities of life into the spiritual product which is holiness. We can just as well, and perhaps easier, work up the same natural elements into a quite different product. The result of our life's action may be that we can show the works of the flesh. But what is the will of the Spirit, S. Paul sets before us in these words: "For when ye were the servants of sin, ye were free from righteousness. What fruit had ye then in those things whereof ye are now ashamed? For the end of those things is death. But now being made free from sin, and become the servants of God, ye have your fruit unto holiness, and the end everlasting life. For the wages of sin is death; but the gift of God is eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord." Any adequate self-examination, therefore, bears not only on our sins, our failures, but on our accomplishment. A tree is known by its fruits; and fruits are things which are evident to all men. If indeed the work of the Spirit in us is love, joy, peace and the rest of the fruits, these qualities cannot be hid. Certainly they cannot be hid from ourselves. They are the evidence to us of precisely where we stand in the way of spiritual accomplishment. And we must remember that they are supernatural qualities, and not be deceived by the existence in us of a set of human counterfeits. Love is not good-natured tolerance; joy is not superficial gaiety, peace is not clever dodging of difficulties. The fruits of the Spirit are not of easy growth, but come only at the end of a long period of cultivation, of energetic striving. But like all the gifts of God they do come if we want them to come. "If ye abide in me, and my words abide in you, ye shall ask what ye will, and it shall be done unto you." But when we ask our Lord for gifts we must remember that the giving is not a mechanical giving. What our Lord gives is the Might of the Spirit to effect what we desire. If a man ask of God a good harvest the prayer is answered if there be given the conditions under which a good harvest can be produced; it will not be produced without the appropriate human labour. And when we ask of God the Fruits of the Spirit the prayer is granted if the conditions are given under which this Fruit may be brought forth. But neither here may we expect Fruit without appropriate action on our part. God gives, but He gives to those who want. I others do of grace bereave, When, in their mother's womb, they life receive, God, as his sole-borne Daughter, loved thee: To match thee like thy birth's nobility, He thee his Spirit for thy Spouse did leave, Of whom thou didst his only Son conceive; And so was linked to all the Trinity. Cease, then, O queens, who earthly crowns do wear, To glory in the pomp of worldly, things: If men such respect unto you bear Which daughters, wives and mothers are of kings; What honour should unto that Queen be done Who had your God for Father, Spouse and Son? II Sovereign of Queens, if vain ambition move My heart to seek an earthly prince's grace, Show me thy Son in his imperial place, Whose servants reign our kings and queens above: And, if alluring passions I do prove By pleasing sighs--show me thy lovely face, Whose beams the angels' beauty do deface, And even inflame the seraphins with love. So by ambition I shall humble be, When, in the presence of the highest King, I serve all his, that he may honour me; And love, my heart to chaste desires shall bring, When fairest Queen looks on me from her throne, And jealous, bids me love but her alone. III Why should I any love, O Queen, but thee, If favor past a thankful love should breed? Thy womb did bear, thy breast my Saviour feed, And thou didst never cease to succour me. If love do follow worth and dignity, Thou all in thy perfections dost exceed; If love be led by hope of future meed, What pleasure more than thee in heaven to see? An earthly sight doth only please the eye, And breeds desire, but doth not satisfy: Thy sight gives us possession of all joy; And with such full delights each sense shall fill, As heart shall wish but for to see thee still, And ever seeing, ever shall enjoy. IV Sweet Queen, although thy beauty raise up me From sight of baser beauties here below, Yet, let me not rest there; but, higher go To him, who took his shape from God and thee. And if thy form in him more fair I see, What pleasure from his deity shall flow, By whose fair beams his beauty shineth so, When I shall it behold eternally? Then, shall my love of pleasure have his fill, When beauty's self, in whom all pleasure is, Shall my enamoured soul embrace and kiss, And shall new loves and new delights distill, Which from my soul shall gush into my heart, And through my body flow to every part. HENRY CONSTABLE: 1562-1613. PART TWO CHAPTER XXIV THE HOME OF S. JOHN And from that hour that disciple took her unto his own home. S. John XIX, 27. But now we unite to praise thee, O Pure and Immaculate One, blessed Virgin and sinless Mother of thy great Son and the God of all. O perfectly spotless and altogether holy, thou art the hope of despairing sinners. We bless thee as most full of grace, who didst give birth to Christ, God and Man. And we fall down before thee. We all invoke thee and implore thy help. Deliver us, O Virgin, holy and undefiled, from every pressing strait and from all temptations of the Evil One. Be thou our peacemaker in the hour of death and judgment. Do thou save us from the future unquenchable fire and from the outer darkness. Do thou render us worthy of the glory of thy Son, O Virgin and Mother, most sweet and clement. A PRAYER OF S. EPHREM THE SYRIAN. There is no scene in the whole range of Scripture narrative which is more full of pathos than this scene of the Cross. Two agonies meet: the agony of the nailing, the lifting, the dying; and the agony that looks on in silent helplessness. But while our Lord's physical agony was in some sort swallowed up in the intensity of the love which was the motive for enduring it, overpassed in the vision of the need of those for whom He was dying, S. Mary's agony was the pain of a love concentrated upon the Sufferer Who hangs dying before her eyes. If there be anything that can lighten the pain of such love it is that it feels itself answered, that its object is conscious of it and is helped by it. And S. Mary had that consolation: the love poured to her from the Cross, and revealed itself when the suffering Son turned His eyes upon her agony and, understanding what her desolation would be, committed her to His beloved disciple: "Behold thy Mother; behold thy son." These two great loves which had been our Lord's human consolation were thus committed to one another. And when the darkness fell, and death relieved the agony, and the Sacred Body had been cared for, then the mother found refuge with S. John: "and from that hour that disciple took her unto his own home." From the day of Pentecost on, S. Mary is no more heard of in the history of the Church. As so often, the Scriptures are silent and decline to answer our interested questions. They go on with the essentails of their story, the founding of the Church of God, and leave other things aside. So we do not know any of the last years of the life of Blessed Mary. Where did she live? How long did she live? The traditions, in any case of quite an untrustworthy nature, are contradictory. Jerusalem and Ephesus contend for the honour of our Lady's residence. Jerusalem must have been the site of that "home" to which S. John took her after the crucifixion. Did she remain there, or did she follow S. John, and at length come to live with him in Ephesus? Ephesus puts forward the claim, and we feel that it would be well founded in the nature of the relation between these two, if S. Mary lived until the settlement of the last of the apostles in the Asian city. Our Lord's committal of His Mother to the beloved disciple implies their personal association as long as S. Mary lived: if till S. John was settled in Ephesus, then we may be sure that she was there. She would be with S. John as long as she lived, but can we think of her as living long? Would not a great love draw her to another world and the presence of her triumphant Son? Let us, however think, as one tradition bids us, of our Lady as living some time with S. John at Ephesus. We can understand the situation because it is so much like our own. These Asia Minor cities of the imperial period were curiously like the great centers of population in the Western world of to-day--London, Paris, New York, Chicago. There was the same over-crowding of population, the same intense commercial activity, the same almost insane thirst for amusement and excitement, the same degeneracy of moral fibre. The sins that sapped the life of Ephesus are the same that degrade contemporary life. In some ways Ephesus was, possibly, more frankly corrupt; but on the other hand it had no daily press to advertise and promote sin and social corruption. There is more of Christianity and of Christian influence in the modern city, but even here there is a curious resemblance between the two. The Christian Religion had but recently been introduced into Ephesus, but already it had precisely that touch of ineffectiveness that seems to us so modern. The message of the risen Lord to the angel of the Church in Ephesus is: "Nevertheless I have this against thee, that thou hast left thy first love. Remember therefore from whence thou art fallen, and repent, and do the first works; or else I will come unto thee quickly, and will remove thy candlestick out of his place, except thou repent." The things that hearten us are sometimes strange; but I suppose that there is a feeling of encouragement in our present day distress and spiritual ineffectiveness in the thought that even under S. John the Church in Ephesus was not wholly ideal. The conditions which baffle us, baffled him. The converts who were so promising and enthusiastic declined in zeal and fell back under the spell of worldliness. Zeal is a quality which is maintained with great difficulty, and the pull of the world, whether social or business, is steadily exercised. Converts in Ephesus, like converts in New York, felt that their friends were right who declared that they were quite unnecessarily strict, and that in order to serve Christ it was not necessary to turn their backs absolutely on Diana. As one tries to reconstruct the situation in Ephesus, one feels that our Lady would have had no prominence in the Church in the way of an actively exercised influence. One thinks of her as living in retirement, as not even talking very much. If she lived long she would be an object of increasing interest and even of awe to the new converts, and an object of growing love to all those who were admitted to any sort of fellowship with her. But one cannot imagine a crowd about her, inquiring into her experiences and her memories of her divine Son. Once she told of her experience, for it was necessary that the Church should know of the circumstances of the coming of the Son of God into the world, but beyond that necessary communication of her experience we cannot think of her as speaking of her sacred memories. Silence and meditation, longing and waiting, would have filled the years till the hour of her release. But in the quiet hours spent with S. John it would be different. Between the Blessed Virgin and S. John there was perfect understanding and perfect sympathy, and we love to think of the hours that they would have spent together in deep spiritual intercourse. Those hours would not be hours of reminiscence merely; they would rather be hours in which these two would attempt with the aid of the Spirit Who ruled in them so fully to enter deeper and ever deeper into the meaning of Incarnate God. Jesus would be the continual object of their thought and their love, and meditation upon His words and acts would lead them to an ever increasing appreciation of their depth and meaning. We have all felt, in reading the pages of S. John, how vast is the difference both in attitude toward his subject and in his understanding of it from that of the other Evangelists. The earlier Evangelists seem deliberately to keep all feeling out of their story, to tell the life of our Lord in the most meagre outline, confining themselves to the essential facts. Anything like interpretation they decline. In S. John all this is changed. The Jesus whom he presents is the same Jesus, but seen through what different eyes! The same life is presented, but with what changes in selection of material! The Gospel of S. John seems almost a series of mediations upon selected facts of an already familiar life rather than an attempt to tell a life-story. And so indeed we think of it. When S. John wrote, the life of our Lord as a series of events was already before the Church. The Church had the synoptic Gospels, and it had a still living tradition to inform it. What it needed, and what the Holy Spirit led S. John to give it, was some glimpse of the inner meaning of the Incarnation, some unfolding of the spiritual depths of the teaching of Jesus. We know how it is that different people listening to the same words get different impressions and carry away with them quite different meanings. We hear what we are able to hear. And S. John was able to hear what the other disciples of our Lord seem not to have heard. What dwelt in his memory and was worked up in his meditations and was at length transmitted to us, was the meaning of such incidents as the interview with Nicodemus, and the talk with the woman of Samaria, the discourse on the Holy Eucharist and the great High-priestly prayer. Men have felt the contrast between S. John and the other Evangelists so intensely that they have said that this is another Christ who is presented by S. John, and the influences which have shaped the author of the Fourth Gospel are quite other than those which shaped the men of the inner circle of Jesus. But no: it is the instinctive, or rather the Spirit-guided, selection of the material afforded by those years of association with Jesus for the purpose of transmitting to the Church a spiritual depth and beauty, a spiritual significance in our Lord's teaching, that the earlier Gospel had hardly touched. Which perhaps they could not touch because when they wrote there was not yet in the Church the spiritual experience which could fully interpret our Lord. Through the life of union with the risen Jesus and all the spiritual experience, all the illumined intelligence that that life brought, S. John was enabled to understand and interpret as he did. Writing far on toward the end of the first century he was writing out of the personal experience of Christian living of many years, which brought with it year by year an increased power of spiritual vision opening to him the depth and wonder of the fact of God made man. It is to an experience of our Lord that he appeals as the basis of his teaching. "That which was from the beginning, which we have heard, which we have seen with our eyes, which we have looked upon, and our hands have handled, of the Word of life: (for the life was manifested, and we have seen it, and bear witness, and show unto you that eternal life, which was with the Father, and was manifested unto us;) that which we have seen and heard declare we unto you, that ye also may have fellowship with us: and truly our fellowship is with the Father, and His Son Jesus Christ." And as we read on in S. John's Epistles we cannot fail to see how deeply the years of meditation have influenced his understanding of our Lord and His teaching, and how much his past experience of our Lord has been illumined by the experience of the risen Jesus which has followed. At no time, we are certain, has S. John been out of touch with his Master. And can we for a moment think that the years of intercourse with our Lady meant nothing in the spiritual development of S. John? On the contrary, may we not think that much of the spiritual richness which is the outstanding feature of his writings was the outcome of his association with the blessed Mother? No one has ever shown the sympathetic understanding of our Lord, has been so well able convincingly to interpret Him, as the beloved disciple. I myself have no doubt that much of his understanding came by way of S. Mary. Her interpretative insight would have been deeper than any one else's, not only because of her long association with Jesus, but because of her sinlessness. No two lives ever touched so closely; and there was not between them the bar that so blocks our spiritual understanding and clouds our spiritual vision, the bar of sin. I suppose it is almost impossible for us to appreciate the effect of sin in clouding vision and dulling sympathy. Our every day familiarity with venial sin, our easy tolerance of it, the adjustment of our lives to habits that involve it, have resulted in a lack of spiritual sensitiveness. Much of the meaning of our Lord's life and words passes over us just because of this dimness of vision, this insensitiveness to suggestion. And therefore we find it difficult to imagine what would be the understanding, the insight, the response to our Lord, of one between whom and Him there was no shadow of sin. And such an one was the blessed Mother. With unclouded vision she looked into the face of her Son. As His life expanded she followed with perfect sympathy; indeed, sometimes, as at Cana, her understanding of what He was made her precipitate in concluding as to His necessary action. When He became a public teacher and unfolded largely in parable His doctrine, it was her sinless soul which would see clearest and deepest, and with the most ready response. And therefore I am sure that we cannot go astray in thinking that S. John's relation to S. Mary was not simply that of a guardian of her from the pressure of the world, but was indeed that of a son who listened and learned from the experience of his Mother. No doubt S. John himself was of a very subtle spiritual understanding; notwithstanding that, and notwithstanding his exceptional opportunities of learning, we may still believe that there are many touches in his Gospel which are the result of his association with his Lord's Mother. Is it not possible for us to have our share in that pure insight of blessed Mary? When we try to think out the lines of our own spiritual development and the influences that have contributed to shape it, do we not find that the presence or absence of devotion to our Lady has been a factor of considerable importance? Devotion to her injected an element into our religion which is of vast moment, an element of sympathy, of gentleness, of purity. You can if you like, in condemnatory accents, call that element sentimentalism, although it is not that but the exercise of those gentler elements of our nature without whose exercise our nature functions one-sidedly. You may call it the feminine element, if you like; you will still be indicating the same order of activity. Surely, an all around spiritual development will bring out the feminine as well as the masculine qualities. And it seems to be historically true that those systems of religion which represent a revolt against the cultus of our Lady and carefully exclude all traces of it from their worship, show as a consequence of this exclusion a hardness and a barrenness which makes their human appeal quite one-sided. And when those same systems have realised their limitations and their lack of human appeal, and have tried to supply what is lacking, they have again failed, because instead of reverting to historical Christianity they have taken the road of humanitarianism, basing themselves on our Lord's human life and consequent brotherhood with us, rather than upon His supernatural Personality as operative through His mystical Body. Stress is laid upon charitable helpfulness rather than upon the power of grace. The modern man tries to reform life rather than to regenerate it. And, I repeat, I cannot help associating with a repudiation of the cultus of the saints, and especially of the Blessed Virgin Mary, a consequent failure to understand the Christian life as a supernatural creation. If one leaves out of account the greater part of the Kingdom of Heaven, all the multitudes of the redeemed, and their activities, and fastens one's attention exclusively upon that small part of the Kingdom which is the Church on earth, one can hardly fail to miss the significance of the earthly Church itself. Religion understood in this limited way may well drift more and more toward Deism and Humanitarianism, and further and further from any supernatural implications. This is no theory; it is what has happened. It was the course of Protestantism from the Reformation to the eighteenth century; and, after a partial revival of supernaturalism, is once more the rapid course of Protestantism to-day. Protestantism has lost or is fast losing any grip on the Trinity or the Incarnation: to it God is more and more a barren unity, and Jesus a good man. And this largely because all interest in the world of the Redeemed has been abandoned and all intercourse with the inhabitants of that world denied. It is therefore of the last importance that we, infected as we are with Protestantism, should stress the revival of the cultus of the saints, and should insist upon our right and privilege to pay due honour to the Mother of God and ask our share in her prayers. We must do all we can to make her known to our brethren. We need her sympathy, her aid, her example. Above all, the example of her spotless purity. It is notorious that one of the most marked features of our time is the virulent assault on purity. We had long emphasised a certain quality of conduct which we called modesty; it was, perhaps, largely a convention, but it was one of those protective conventions which are valuable as preservative of qualities we prize. It was protective of purity; and however artificial it was, in some respects, it existed because we felt that purity was a thing too precious to be exposed to unnecessary risk. Well, modesty is gone now, whether in conduct or convention. One hears discussed at dinner-tables and in the presence of young girls matters which our mothers would have blushed to mention at all. The quality of modesty is declared Puritanical and hypocritical. "Hypocritical virtue" is a phrase one frequently meets; and we seem fast going on to the time when all virtue will be regarded as hypocrisy. Customary standards are falling all about us, overthrown in the name of personal liberty. And by liberty, one gathers, is meant freedom to do as one pleases, and especially as one sexually pleases. The assault is pushed hardest just now against the sanctity of the sacrament of matrimony and the morals of that sacrament as they have been developed by the Christian Church. Protestantism long ago assented to the overthrow of Christian standards in the marriage relation and has aided the sexual anarchy with which we are faced to-day. To-day the chief attack is on the purity of marriage in the interests, ostensibly, of humanity. A vigorous campaign in favour of what is called birth-control is being carried on, and is being supported in quarters which are professedly Christian. There are many grounds for opposing the movement, social, humanitarian and other. We are here concerned with it only as it is an attack on purity. From the Christian point of view the marriage relation has for its end the procreation of children for the upbuilding of the Kingdom of God. If circumstances are such, through reasons of health or economy, that children seem undesirable, the remedy is plain, self control. The theory that human beings have no more control over their appetites than beasts, while it has much to support it in contemporary life, cannot be admitted from the point of view of religion. Self-control is always possible, and is constantly exercised by many men and women who choose to be guided by principle rather than by passion. And in any case the Christian Religion can become no partner, not even a silent one, in a conspiracy to murder, or in the sort of compromise that turns marriage into a licensed sodomy. If indeed the economic status of the modern world is such that the average couple cannot support a family, then the Christian Church may well aid in the bringing about of an economic revolution; but it can hardly aid in the destruction of its own ideals of purity. What is ultimately at stake in the modern world is the whole conception of purity as a quality that is desirable. This attitude has become possible among us for one reason because we have consented to the suppression of ideals of life which were calculated to sustain it. To sustain any moral or spiritual conception there must be maintained certain appropriate ideals which, while out of the reach of the average man, create and sustain in him an admiration and respect for the ideal standard. So the standard of purity presented in Mary and protected by the belief in her Immaculate Conception and her assumption, has the effect, not only of commending the life of chastity in the sense of the vows of religion, but also in the broad sense of the restraint and discipline of appetite whether within or without the marriage relation. It impresses upon us the truth that purity is not only a human quality but a divinely created virtue, the result of the infusion of sanctifying grace into the soul. Is it not largely because the young are taught (when they are taught anything at all in the premises) that purity is a matter of the _will_, that they so often fail? If they were taught the nature of the _virtue_ and were led to rely more on the indwelling might of the Holy Spirit would they not have better success? And if there were held constantly before their eyes the example of the saints and especially of Blessed Mary ever-virgin, would not they have an increased sense of the value of purity? The life and example of S. Mary are an inestimable treasure of the Church of God, and her removal from the world has only enhanced that value. To-day her meaning is clearer to us than ever. The spirit-guided mind of the Church has through the centuries been meditating on the meaning of her office as Mother of God. The words in which she accepts her vocation, Behold the handmaid of the Lord, implying, as they do, an active co-operation with the divine purpose, a voluntary association of herself with it, imply, too, the perpetual continuance of that association, and contain in germ all Catholic teaching in regard to her office. She passed from this world silently, and to the world unknown; but to the Church of God she ever remains of all human beings the greatest spiritual force in the Kingdom of God. Weep, living things, of life the Mother dies; The world doth lose the sum of all her bliss, The Queen of earth, the Empress of the skies; By Mary's death mankind an orphan is. Let Nature weep, yea, let all graces moan, Their glory, grace and gifts die all in one. It was no death to her, but to her woe, By which her joys began, her griefs did end; Death was to her a friend, to us a foe, Life of whose lives did on her life depend: Not prey of death, but praise to death she was. Whose ugly shape seemed glorious in her face. Her face a heaven; two planets were her eyes, Whose gracious light did make our clearest day; But one such heaven there was, and lo, it dies, Death's dark eclipse hath dimmed every, ray: Sun, hide thy light, thy beams untimely shine; True light since we have lost, we crave not thine. Robert Southwell, 1560-1595 PART TWO CHAPTER XXV THE ASSUMPTION Father, I will that they also, whom thou hast given me, be with me where I am; that they may behold my glory, which thou hast given me. S. John XVII, 24. Hail! Holy Queen, Mother of mercy, hail! Our life, our sweetness, our hope, all hail. To thee we cry, poor exiled children of Eve. To thee we send up our cries, weeping and mourning in this vale of tears. Turn, then, Most gracious Advocate, thy merciful eyes upon us, and now, after this our exile, show unto us the blessed Fruit of thy womb, Jesus. O gracious, O merciful, O sweet Virgin Mary. Anthem from the breviary. Attributed to Hermann Contractus, 1013-54. There is nothing more wonderful or beautiful, nothing that brings to us a more perfect revelation of our Lord's mind, than this prayer which is recorded for us by S. John. There is in it a complete unfolding of that sympathy and love which we feel to underlie and explain our Lord's mission. As we come to know what God is only when we see Him revealed in Jesus; when we enter into our Lord's saying, "He that hath seen me, hath seen the Father," so in the revelation of Jesus we understand God's attitude toward us. In Jesus the love of God shows itself, not as an abstract quality, a philosophical conception, but as a burning, passionate eagerness to rescue, an outgoing of God to individual souls. There is a deep personal affection displayed in this final scene in the Upper Chamber. This is our Lord's real parting from His disciples. He will see them again, but under conditions of strain and tragedy, or under such changed circumstances that they cannot well enter into the old intimacy. But here there is no bar to the expression of love. Here He gives them the final evidence of His utter union with them in the humility of the foot-washing. Here He marvellously imparts Himself in the Breaking of the Bread, wherein is consummated His personal union with them. This is the demonstration, if one were needed, that having loved His own, He loved them unto the uttermost. It is inconceivable that passionate love such as this should ever end. It is a personal relation which must endure while personality endures. It is really the demands of love which more than anything else outside revelation are the evidence of immortality. We are certain that the love of God which in its fulness has been made known in Christ cannot be annihilated by death. "I have loved thee with an everlasting love; therefore with loving kindness have I drawn thee." Love such as that must draw men, not only in this world, but in all worlds. If it can draw men out of sin to God, it must create an enduring bond. If it can draw God to men, it must be the revelation of a permanent attitude of God to man. It is a love that goes out beyond the world, that love of which S. Paul says: "For I am persuaded, that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature, shall be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord." Our instinctive thought of the Judgment seems to be of it as condemnation, or, at best, as acquittal. But why not think of it as consummation? Why not think of it as setting the seal of God's approval upon our accomplishment of His will and purpose for us? The final Judgment is surely that,--the entrance of those who are saved into the full joy of their Lord. There once more will our humanity be complete because it is the whole man, not the soul only, but the soul clothed with the body of the resurrection, once more clothed upon with its "house from heaven," which is filled with the joy of the Beatific Vision. The thought of the particular judgment may fill us with dread; but if we are able to look beyond that to the general Judgment at the last day, we shall think only of our perfect bliss in the enjoyment of God. The belief in the Assumption of our Lady is a belief that in her case that which is the inheritance of all the saints, that they shall rise again with their bodies and be admitted to the Vision of God, has been anticipated. In her, that which we all look forward to and dream of for ourselves, has been attained. She to-day is in God's presence in her entire humanity, clothed with her body of glory. This teaching, one finds, still causes some searching of hearts among us, and is thought to raise many questions difficult to answer. And it may be admitted at the outset that it is not a truth taught in Holy Scripture but a truth arrived at by the mind of the Church after centuries of thought. Unless we can think of the Church as a divine organism with a continuous life from the day of Pentecost until now, as being the home of the Holy Spirit, and as being continuously guided by Him into all the truth; unless we can accept in their full sense our Lord's promises that He will be with the Church until the end of the world, we shall not find it possible to accept the assumption as a fact, but shall decline to believe that, and not only that but, if we are consistent, many another belief of the Christian Church. But if we have an adequate understanding of what is implied in the continuity of the Church as the organ of the present action of the Holy Spirit, we shall not find that the fact that a given doctrine is not explicitly contained in Holy Scripture is any bar to its acceptance. We shall have learned that the revelation of God in Christ, and our relation to God in Christ, are facts of such tremendous import and inexhaustible content that it would be absurd to suppose that all their meaning had been understood and explicitly stated in the first generation of the Christian Church. We shall not, then, find it any bar to the acceptance of belief in the assumption of our Lady that its formal statement came, as is said, "late." We simply want to know that when it came it came as the outcome of the mature thought of the Church, the Body of Christ, the Fulness of Him that filleth all in all. It is to be noted that the assumption is not a wholly isolated fact. There are several cases of assumption in the Old Testament though of a slightly different character in that they were assumptions directly from life without any interval of death. Such were the assumptions of Enoch and Elijah. Moses, too, it has been constantly believed, was assumed into heaven,--in his case after death and with his resurrection body. A case which is more strangely like what is believed to have taken place in the experience of blessed Mary is that closely connected with our Lord's resurrection and recorded by S. Matthew. "And the graves were opened, and many bodies of the saints which slept arose, and came out of the graves after his resurrection, and went into the holy city, and appeared unto many." Although it is not asserted that these were assumed into heaven, it seems impossible to avoid the inference; and if "many saints which slept" were raised from the dead and assumed into the heavenly world, there can be no _a priori_ difficulty in believing the same thing to have taken place in the Blessed Mother of God. Nay if such a thing as an assumption is at all possible for any human being one would naturally conclude from the very relation of S. Mary to our Lord that the possibility would be realised in her. And there were elements in her case which were lacking in all the other cases which suggest a certain fitness, if not inevitability, in her assumption. She was conceived without sin,--never had any breath of sin tainted her. Was it then possible that she should be holden by death? Surely, in any case, it was impossible that her holy body should see corruption: we cannot think of the dissolution of that body which had no part in sin. If ever an assumption were possible, here it was inevitable--so the thought of the Church shaped itself. The compelling motives of the belief were theological rather than historical. The germ out of consideration of which was evolved the belief in the assumption was the relation of Blessed Mary to her Son. That unique relation might be expected to carry with it unique consequences, and among these the consequence that the body which was bound by no sin should be reunited to the soul which had needed no purgation, but had passed at once to the presence of its God and its Redeemer who was likewise Son. It is well to stress the fact that the assumption is not only a fact but a doctrine. Fact, of course, it was or there could be no doctrine; but the truth of the fact is certified by the growing conviction in the mind of the Church of the inevitability of the doctrine. What is implied in the word assumption is that the body of the Mother of our Lord was after her death and burial raised to heaven by the power of God. It differed therefore essentially from the ascension of our Lord which was accomplished by His Own inherent power. When this assumption took place we have no means of knowing. We do not certainly know where S. Mary lived, nor where and when she died. Jerusalem and Ephesus contend in tradition for the privilege of having sheltered her last days and reverently carried her body to its burial. There is no way of deciding between these two claims, although the fact that our Lord confided His Mother to S. John throws some little weight into the scale of Ephesus. And yet S. Mary may have died before S. John settled in Ephesus. We can only say that history gives us no reliable information on the matter. In the silence of Scripture we naturally turn to the other writings of the early Church for light and guidance on the matter; but there, too, there is little help. There is, to be sure, a group of Apocryphal writings which have a good deal to say about the life of S. Mary, where the Scriptures and tradition are silent. Among other things these Apocryphal writings have a good deal to say, and some very beautiful stories to tell, of S. Mary's last days, of her burial and assumption. Are we to think of these stories as containing any grain of truth? If they do, it is now impossible to sift it from the chaff. These stories are generally rejected as a basis of knowledge. And there has been, and still is in some quarters, a conviction that the belief of the Church in the assumption rests on nothing better or more stable than these Apocryphal stories; that the authors of these Apocrypha were inventing their stories out of nothing, and that in an uncritical age their legends came to be taken as history. Thus was a belief in the assumption foisted upon the Church, having no slightest ground in fact. The human tendency to fill in the silences of Scripture has resulted in many legends, that of the assumption among them. There is a good deal to be said for this position, yet I do not feel that it is convincing. That the incidents of the life of the Blessed Virgin Mary as narrated in the Apocrypha are historical, of course cannot be maintained. But neither is it at all probable that such stories grew up out of nothing: indeed, their existence implies that there were certain facts widely accepted in the Christian community that served as their starting point. While the Apocryphal stories of the life of our Lady cannot be accepted as history, they do presuppose certain beliefs as universally, or at least widely, held. Thus one may reject all the details of the story of the death and burial and assumption of our Lady, and yet feel that the story is evidence of a belief in the assumption among those for whom the story was written. What was new to them was not the fact of the assumption but the detailed incidents with which the Apocrypha embroidered it. I feel no doubt that these Apocryphal stories are not the source of belief in the assumption, but are our earliest witness to the existence of the belief. They actually presuppose its existence in the Church as the necessary condition of their own existence. Another fact that tells in the same direction is the absence of any physical relics of our Lady. At a time when great stress was laid upon relics, and there was little scruple in inventing them, if the authentic ones were not forthcoming, there were no relics produced which were alleged to be the physical relics of S. Mary. Why was this? Surely, unless there were some inhibiting circumstances, relics, real or forged, would have been produced. The only probable explanation is that the inhibiting circumstance was the established belief in the assumption. If the assumption were a fact, there would be no physical relics; if it were an established belief, there would be no fraud possible. Add to this that various relics of our Lady were alleged to exist; but they were not relics of her body. Again: by the seventh century the celebration of the feast of the assumption had spread throughout the whole church. This universal establishment of the feast implies a preceding history of considerable length, going well back into the past. The feast was kept in many places, and under a variety of names which seem to imply, not mere copying, but independent development. It is alleged, to be sure, that the names by which the feast was called do not imply belief in the assumption. The feast is called "the Sleeping," "the Repose," "the Passage" of the Virgin, as well as by the Western title, the assumption. But a study of the liturgies and of the sermons preached in honour of the feast will convince any one that the underlying tradition was that of our Lady's assumption. These quite separate and yet converging lines of evidence seem to me to show convincingly what was the wide-spread belief of the early Christian community as to the destiny of Blessed Mary. They imply a tradition going well back into the past, so far back, that in view of the theological expression of the mind of the Church they may well be regarded as apostolic. Our personal belief in the assumption will still rest primarily upon its theological expression in the mind of the Church, but having attained certainty as to the doctrine, which is of course at the same time certainty as to the fact, we shall have no difficulty in finding in the above sketched lines of historical development the evidence of the primitive character of the belief. It may not be amiss to give a few characteristic quotations as indicating the mind of the Church in this matter. S. Modestus, patriarch of Jerusalem (d. 614), preaching on the Falling Asleep of the Mother of God, said:-- "The Lord of heaven and earth has to-day consecrated the human tabernacle in which He Himself, according to the flesh, was received, that it may enjoy with Him forever the gift of incorruptibility. O blessed sleep of the glorious, ever-virgin Mother of God, who has not known the corruption of the grave; for Christ, our all-powerful Saviour, has kept intact that flesh which gave Him His flesh.... Hail, most holy Mother of God: Jesus has willed to have you in His Kingdom with your body clothed in incorruptibility.... The most glorious Mother of Christ our Lord and Saviour, Who gave life and immortality, is raised by her Son, and forever possesses incorruptibility with Him Who called her from the tomb." S. Andrew, Archbishop of Crete (d. 676), also preaching on the Falling Asleep of the Mother of God, says:--"It is a wholly new sight, and one that surpasses the reason, that of a woman purer than the heavens entering heaven with her body. As she was born without corruption, so after death her flesh is restored to life." In one of his sermons at the same feast, S. Germanus of Constantinople (d. 733), speaks thus:--"It was impossible that the tomb should hold the body which had been the living temple of the Son of God. How should your flesh be reduced to dust and ashes who, by the Son born of you, have delivered the human race from the corruption of death?" Preaching on the same festival, S. John Damascene (d. 760) said:--"Your flesh has known no corruption. Your immaculate body, which knew no stain, was not left in the tomb. You remained virgin in your child-bearing; and in your death your body was not reduced to dust but has been placed in a better and celestial state." There are one or two practical consequences of this doctrine concerning which, perhaps, it may be well to say a few words. The first is as the result of such devotions to our Lady as are implied in, or have in fact followed, a belief in her assumption. It is objected to them that even granting the truth of the fact of the assumption, still the stress laid on the fact and the devotions to our Lady which are held to be appropriate to it, are unhealthy in their nature, and do, in fact, tend to obscure the worship of our Lord: that where devotions to our Lady are fostered, there devotion to our Lord declines. That therefore instead of trying to advance the cultus of our Lady, we should do much better to hold to the sanity and reserve which has characterised the Anglican Church since the Reformation. These and the like arguments seem to me to hang in the air and to be quite divorced from facts. They imply a state of things which does not exist. The assertion that where devotion to our Lady prevails devotion to our Lord declines is as far as possible from being true. Where to-day is the Deity of our Lord defended most ardently and devotion to Him most wide spread? Is it in Churches where devotion to our Lady is suppressed? On the contrary, do you not know with absolute certainty, that in any church where you find devotion to our Lady encouraged, there will you find the Deity of our Lord maintained? Has the Anglican "sanity and reserve" in regard to the Blessed Virgin Mary saved the Anglican Church from the inroads of unitarianism and rationalism? Is it not precisely in those circles where the very virginity of our Lady is denied that the divinity of our Lord is denied also? No, devotion to Mary is far indeed from detracting from the honour due to Mary's Son. And we cannot insist too much or too often that the doctrines of the Christian Church form a closely woven system such that none, even the seemingly least important, can be denied without injuring the whole. No article of Christian belief expresses an independent truth, but always a truth depending upon other truths, and in its turn lending others its support. To deny any truth that the mind of the Church has expressed is equivalent to the removal of an organ from a living body. And to-day we feel more than ever the need of the doctrine of the assumption. One of the bitterest attacks on the Christian Faith which is being made to-day, emanating principally from within the Christian community, and even from within the Christian ministry, is that which is being made on the truth of the resurrection of the body, whether the resurrection of our Lord, or our own resurrection. In place of the Christian doctrine believed and preached from the beginning, we are asked to lapse back into heathenism and a doctrine of immortality. Not many seem to realise the vastness of the difference that is made in our outlook to the future by a belief in the resurrection of the body as distinguished from immortality. But the character of the religions resulting from these two contrary beliefs is absolutely different. It needs only to study them as they actually exist to be convinced of this fact. And it is precisely the doctrine of the assumption of our Lady which contributes strong support to the Christian doctrine of the resurrection of the body. It teaches us that in her case the vision and hope of mankind at large has been anticipated and accomplished. The resurrection of our Lord is found, in fact, to extend (if one may so express it) to the members of His mystical body; and the promise which is fulfilled in Blessed Mary, is that hope of a joyful resurrection which is thus confirmed to us all. In its stress upon the assumption the mind of the Christian Church has not been led astray, has not been betrayed into fostering superstitions, but has been led by the Spirit of Christ which He promised it to the development of a truth not only revealing the present place of His glorious Mother in the Kingdom of her Son, but encouraging and heartening us in our following of the heavenly way. Whoe is shee that assends so high Next the heavenlye Kinge, Round about whome angells flie And her prayses singe? Who is shee that adorned with light, Makes the sunne her robe, At whose feete the queene of night Layes her changing globe? To that crowne direct thine eye, Which her heade attyres; There thou mayst her name discrie Wrytt in starry fires. This is shee, in whose pure wombe Heaven's Prince remained; Therefore, in noe earthly tombe Cann shee be contayned. Heaven shee was, which held that fire Whence the world tooke light, And to heaven doth now aspire, Fflames with fflames to unite. Shee that did so clearly shyne When our day begunne, See, howe bright her beames decline Nowe shee sytts with the sunne. Sir John Beaumont, 1582-1628. PART TWO CHAPTER XXVI THE CORONATION And there appeared a great wonder in heaven; a woman clothed with the sun, and the moon under her feet, and upon her head a crown of twelve stars. Rev. XII, I. To-day the Angel Gabriel brought the palm and the crown to the triumphant Virgin. To-day he introduced to the Lord of all, her, who was the Temple of the Most High, and the dwelling of the Holy Spirit. FOR THE ASSUMPTION. ARMENIAN. The heaven which S. John the Evangelist shows us is the continuation of the earthly Church. As we read his pages we feel that entrance there would be a real home-coming for the earnest Christian. We are familiar enough with presentations of heaven which seem to us to be so detached from Christian reality as to lack any human appeal. We think of philosophic presentations of the future with entire indifference. It is possible, we say, that they may be true; but they are utterly uninteresting. It is not so in the visions of S. John. Here we have a heaven which is humanly interesting because it is continous with the present life, and its interests are the interests that it has been the object of our religion to foster. The qualities of character which the Christian religion has urged upon our attention are presented as finding their clear field of development in the world to come. There, too, are unveiled the objects of our adoration, the ever-blessed Three who yet are but one. Love which has striven for development under the conditions and limitations of our earthly life, which has tried to see God and has gone out to seek Him in the dimness of revelation, now sees and is satisfied. Whom now we see in a mirror, enigmatically, we shall then see face to face. And it is a heaven thronged with saints, with men and women who have gone through the same experiences as those to which we are subjected, and have come forth purified and triumphant. We sometimes in discouragement think of life as continuous struggle. It is perhaps natural and inevitable that we should thus concentrate attention upon the present, but if we lift our eyes so as to clear them from the mists of the present we see that it is far from a hopeless struggle, but rather the necessary discipline from which we emerge triumphant. Those saints whom we see rejoicing about the throne of God, those who go out to follow the Lamb whithersoever He goeth, passed through the struggle of persecution to their triumphant attainment of the Vision. It is our eternal temptation to expect to triumph here; but it is only in a very limited sense that this can be true: our triumph is indeed here, but the enjoyment of it and all that is implied in it is elsewhere. Here even our most complete achievement is conditioned by the limitations of earth: there the limitations are done away and life expands in perfectness. So we look eagerly through the door that is opened in heaven as those who are looking into their future home. That is what we all are striving for--presumably. We are consciously selecting out of life precisely those elements, are centering on those interests, which have eternal significance and are imperishable values. As we travel along the Pilgrim Way it is with hearts uplifted and stimulated by the Vision of the end. We advance as seeing Him Who is invisible. We live by hope, knowing that we shall attain no enduring satisfaction until we pass through the gates into the City, and mingle with the throng of worshippers who sing the song of Moses and of the Lamb. Therefore our life is always forward-looking and optimistic: because we are sure of the end, we wait for it with patience and endurance, thankful for all the experience of the Way. As the years flow by we do not look back on them with regret as the unrenewable experiences of a vanished youth, but we think of them as the bearers of experiences by which we have profited, and of goods which we have safely garnered, waiting the time when their stored values can be fully realised. Over all the saints whom the Church has seen rejoicing in the heavenly life, rises the form of Mary, Mother of God. S. John's vision of the "great sign in heaven" in its primary meaning has, no doubt, reference to the Church itself; but the form of its symbolism would be impossible if there were not a secondary reference to the Blessed Virgin Mary. It is the thought of her and of her office as Mother of the Redeemer that has determined the form of the vision. The details are too clear to permit of doubt, and such has been the constant mind of Catholic interpreters. And how else than as Queen of the heavenly host should we expect her to be represented? What does the Church teaching as to sanctity imply? It implies the enjoyment of the Beatific Vision. The normal Christian life begins in the sacramental act by which the regenerate child is made one with God, being made a partaker of the divine nature, and develops through sacramental experience and constant response to the will of God to that spiritual capacity which is the medium of the Beatific Vision and which we call sanctity or purity. "The pure in heart shall see God." But the teaching of the Church also implies that there is a marvellous diversity in the sanctity of the members of the Body of Christ. Each saint retains his personal characteristics, and his sanctity is not the refashioning of his character in a common mould but the perfecting of his character on its own lines. We sometimes hear it said that the Christian conception of heaven is monotonous, but that is very far from being the fact. It is only those conceptions of heaven which have excluded the communion of saints, and have thought of heaven as the solitary communion of the soul with God; which have in other words, excluded the notion of human society from heaven, which have appeared monotonous. As we read any series of the lives of the saints, and realise that it is these men and women and multitudes of others like them, that make up the society of heaven, we get rid of any other notion than that of endless diversity. And thus studying individual saints we come to understand that not only is the sanctity of them diverse in experience but different in degree. All men have not the same capacity for sanctity, we infer; all cannot develop to the same level of attainment. We may perhaps say that while all partake of God, all do not reflect God in the same way or in the same degree. But if there be a hierachy of saints it is impossible that we should think of any other at its head than Blessed Mary. Whatsoever diversity there may be in the attainments of the saints, there is one saint who is pre-eminent in all things, who,--because in her case there has never been any moment in which she was separate from God, when the bond of union was so much as strained,--is the completest embodiment of the grace of God. That is, I think, essentially what is meant by the Coronation of our Lady,--that her supremacy in sanctity makes her the head of the heirarchy of saints, that in her the possibilities of the life of union have been developed to the highest degree through her unstained purity and unfailing response to the divine will. It is of the last importance, if the Catholic conceptions are to be influential in our lives, that we should gain such a hold on the life of heaven, the life that the saints, with Saint Mary at their head, are leading to-day, as shall make it a present reality to us, not a picture in some sort of dreamland. Our lives are shaped by their ideals; and although we may never attain to our ideals here, yet we shall never attain them anywhere unless we shape them here. Heaven must be grasped as the issue of a certain sort of life, as the necessary consequence of the application of Christian principles to daily living. It is wholly bad to conceive it as a vague future into which we shall be ushered at death, if only we are "good"; it must be understood as a state we win to by the use of the means placed at our disposal for the purpose. Those attain to heaven in the future who are interested in heaven in the present. And a study of the means is wholly possible for us because we have at hand in great detail the lives of those whom the Church, by raising them to her altars, has guaranteed to us as having achieved sanctity and been admitted to the Beatific Vision. They achieved sanctity here--that is, in the past. They achieved it under an infinite variety of circumstanies,--that is the encouragement. They now enjoy the fruits of it in the world of heaven,--that is the promise. And nowhere can we better turn for the purpose of our study than to the life of Blessed Mary. There is the consummate flower of sainthood; and therefore it it best there that we can study its meaning. And for two principal reasons can we best study it there. In the first place because of its completeness: nowhere else are all the elements of sanctity so well developed. And in the second place because of the riches of the material for understanding Blessed Mary that is placed at our disposal by the labour of many generations of saints and doctors. All that devout meditation can do to understand the sanctity of Blessed Mary has been done. Our limit is necessarily reduced, our selection partial and our accomplishment fragmentary. We cannot however miss our way if we follow in the steps of Holy Revelation in making love the central quality. S. Mary's greatness is ultimately the greatness of her love. It began as a love of the will of God. She appears as utterly selfless, as having devoted herself to the will of God as He shall manifest that will. And therefore when the time comes she makes the great sacrifice that is asked of her without hesitation and without effort: "Behold, the handmaid of the Lord; be it unto me according to thy word." And all her life henceforth is loving response to what is unfolded as the content of the accepted revelation. That is a noteworthy thing that I fancy is often missed. It is not uncommon for one to accept a vocation as a whole, and then subsequently, as it unfolds, shrink from this or that detail of it. But in the case of S. Mary the acceptance of the vocation meant the acceptance of _God_, and there was no holding back from the result of that. That must be our guide in the pursuit of the heavenly life: we must understand that we are not called to accept this or that belief or practice, but are called to accept God--God speaking to us through the revelation He has entrusted to His Catholic Church. We do not, when we make our act of acceptance, know all or very much of what God is going to mean; but whatever God turns out to mean in experience, there can be no holding back. The note of a true acceptance of vocation is precisely this limitless surrender, a surrender without reservation. S. Mary could by no means understand what was to be asked of her: she only knew it was God Who asked it. She could not foresee the years of the ministry when her Son would not have where to lay His head, followed by the anxiety of Holy Week and the watch by the Cross on Good Friday; but as these things came she could understand them as involved in her vocation, in her acceptance of God. And cannot we get the same attitude toward life? In the acceptance of the Christian Religion what we have accepted is God. We have acknowledged the supremacy of a will outside ourselves. We say, "we are not our own, we are bought with a price," the price of the Precious Blood. But if our acceptance is a reality and not a theory it will turn out to involve much more than we imagined at the first. The frequent and pathetic failures of those who have made profession of Christianity is largely accounted for by this,--that the demands of the Christian Religion on life turn out to be more searching and far-reaching than was supposed would be the case. Religion turns out to be not one interest to be adjusted to the other interests of life, but to be a demand that all life and action shall be controlled by supernatural motive. Those who would willingly give a part, find it impossible to surrender the whole. The world is full of Young Rulers who are willing "to contribute liberally to the support of religion," but shrink from the demand that they "sell all." "I seek not yours, but you," S. Paul writes to the Corinthians; and that is also the seeking of God--"Not yours but you." And because the limit of our willingness is reached in contribution and does not extend to sacrifice, we fail. But Blessed Mary did not fail because there was no limit to her willingness to sacrifice. Her will to sacrifice had the same limitless quality as her love; and because of the limitless quality of her self-giving her growth in the life of union was unlimited, or limited only by the limitations of creaturehood. When therefore we think of her to-day as Queen of Saints we are not thinking of an arbitrarily conferred position; we are thinking of a position which comes to her because she is what she is. She through the unstinting sacrifice of her love came into more intimate relations with God than is possible for any other, and through that relation came to know more of the mind of God than any other. The power of her intercession is the power of her understanding, of her sympathy with the thoughts of God. When we come to her with our request for her intercession we feel that we are sure of her sympathy and her understanding. Her experience of human life, we think, was not very wide: can she whose life was passed under such narrow conditions understand the complex needs of the modern man or woman? It is true that her actual experience of human life was not very wide; but her experience of God is very wide indeed, and she is able to understand our experience better than we can understand it ourselves because of her understanding of God's mind and will. It is seeing life through God's eyes that reveals the truth about it. Hence the blunder and the tragedy of those who seek to know life by experience, when they mean experience gained by participation in life's evil as well as in its good. They succeed in soiling life rather than in understanding it; for participation in evil effectually prevents our understandings of good. It is on the face of things that the farther a man goes into sin, the less is righteousness intelligible to him. Our Lord's rule "He that doeth the will shall know of the doctrine" is not an arbitrary maxim, but embodies the deepest psychological truth. There is but one path to full understanding, and that is the path of sympathy. And therefore are we sure of our Lady's understanding and come to her unhesitatingly for the help of her intercession. She understands our case because she sees it revealed in the mind of her Son. It cannot be questioned that much of the weakness of religion to-day is due to the fact that Christian ideals make but faint appeal. By many they are frankly repudiated as impossible of attainment in a world such as this, and as weakening to human character so far as they are attained. Christians, of course, are unable to take this point of view, and, therefore, they treat the ideals with respect, but continue to govern their lives by motives which are not harmonious with them. It is tacitly assumed on all sides that a consistent pursuit of Christians ideals will assure failure in social or business life. This, of course, is tantamount to a confession that social and business life are unchristian, and raises the same sort of grave questions as to the duty of a Christian as were raised in the early days of the Church under the heathen empire. With that, however, we may not concern ourselves now. We are merely concerned to note and to emphasise the fact that, whatever may be true of society or business, our religion is lamentably ineffective because of its failure to emphasise the ideals of sanctity and to present those ideals as the ideals of _all_ Christian life, not as the ideals of a select few. While religious teachers asquiesce in the present set of compromises as an adequate expression of Christian character, we may expect a decline in the Church as a spiritual force, whatever may be true of it as a social force. If Christian ideals are to resume their appeal to the membership of the Church as a whole it is requisite that they be studied by the clergy and intelligently presented. But little is to be hoped in this direction so long as our theological training ignores religion and concentrates its attention on something that it takes for scholarship. The raw material that is sent by our parishes to the seminaries to be educated for Holy Orders is commonly turned out of the seminary with less religion that it entered. The outlook for the presentation of Christian ideals is not hopeful. We seem destined to drift on indefinitely in our habitual compromises. All the more is it necessary that we should lift our eyes to the heavens where humility and meekness, where sacrifice and obdience, are, in the person of Blessed Mary, crowned as the most perfect expression of sanctity, as the qualities that raise man nearest God. And what consoles us in the present depressing circumstances of the Church is that we are permitted to look through S. John's eyes into the world of heaven, and there see "a great multitude, which no man could number, of all nations, and kindreds, and peoples, and tongues, before the throne and before the Lamb, clothed with white robes, and with palms in their hands." Somehow, we feel, under whatever distressing and discouraging circumstances, the work of God in the regeneration of souls goes on. No doubt it is a work that is largely hidden from our eyes, from those eyes which are blinded to the reality of spiritual things. Humility and meekness are the qualities of a hidden life; they do not flaunt themselves before men's eyes. But in their silence and obscurity great souls are growing up, growing to the spiritual status of the saints of God. In our estimate of values we shall do well to lay to heart the utterances of WISDOM: "Then shall the righteous man stand in great boldness before the face of such as have afflicted him, and made no account of his labours. When they see it, they shall be troubled with terrible fear, and shall be amazed at the strangeness of his salvation, so far beyond all that they had looked for. And they repenting and groaning for anguish of spirit shall say among themselves, This is he, whom we had sometime in derision, and a proverb of reproach: we fools accounted his life madness, and his end without honour: how is he numbered among the children of God, and his lot is among the saints! Verily we went astray from the way of truth, and the light of righteousness shined not unto us, and the sun of righteousness rose not upon us." When we have attained to the point of view as to life's value which is expressed in the ideal of sanctity then we shall know how to estimate at their true worth the constant criticisms which are directed against those ideals and those who seek them. The saints, we are told, were no doubt estimable men and women, but they were weak, and for the purpose of the world's work, useless. But is this true, to keep to a specific example, of the Blessed Virgin Mary? What is there about her life that suggests weakness? And what can be the meaning of calling such a life useless to the world? Take but one aspect of it. It has for centuries furnished an ideal of womanhood. It is contended that the women who have taken Blessed Mary for their ideal have shown themselves weak and useless?--that those women are stronger in character and of more value to the world who have thrown over the ideals of sanctity and built their lives upon the social ideals prevalent at present? I no not care to attempt any characterisation of the feminine ideal which is commended to us at present; it is sufficient to say that it is difficult to understand how it can be considered socially valuable; still less how it can be considered an advance on the character qualities which distinguish the Christian ideal of sanctity. In the midst of the present confusion of values it is for us of vast significance that we have in this matter the mind of Christ. There need be no confusion in our minds. What Christ commended has proved to be practical of accomplishment, the evidence of which is the great multitude which no man can number who to-day sing about the throne of God and of the Lamb. What God approves is evidenced by the Coronation of the Blessed Mother over all the multitudes of the saints of God. Blessed Mary is the embodied thought of God for humanity, the realised ideal of a human life. He that is mighty hath magnified her, till she shines resplendent in spiritual qualities over all the hosts of the elect. But though so highly exalted she is not thereby removed to an inaccessible distance. She who is privileged to bear the incredible title, MOTHER OF GOD is our Mother as well. Upon the Cross our Lord said to us in the person of His beloved Disciple, "Behold thy Mother"; and it is a mother's love that we find flowing to us from the heart of Mary. Have we been cold to her, and inappreciative of her love? Have we felt that we have no need of her in the conduct of our lives? If so, what we have been doing is to isolate ourselves from the divinely provided fount of human sympathy which ever flows from our star-crowned Mother. Is life so rich in sources of help and sympathy and love that we can afford to over-pass the eagerness of God's saints to help us, the willingness of the very Mother of God to intercede? Is not the life that shuts out from itself the society of heaven pitifully impoverished? Too many of us are like the man who owned the field wherein was the buried treasure. Limitless aid is at our disposal, but on condition that we want it and will seek it. Let us try to understand what it is to have at our disposal the love and sympathy of the saints of God,--that they are not remote inhabitants of a distant sphere whose present interests have led to forgetfulness of what they once were, whose present joy is so intense as to make them self-centred, but that their very attainment of perfection implies the perfection of their love and the completeness of their sympathy. The perfection of God's saints and their attainment of the end of their course in the enjoyment of the Beatific Vision, has but made them more sensitive of our needs and more eager to help. The spiritual wisdom and power of the Mother of God is at our disposal to-day. To the feebleness of our prayers may be added the spiritual wisdom and strength of her intercession. He Whose will it is that we should pray for one another, wills too that the prayers of His Blessed Mother should be at the disposal of all who call upon her. Let us take the fact of the intercession of the Queen of Saints seriously as a source of power ever open to us. Thou who art God's Mother and also ours, thou who lookst constantly into the Face of the Son, thou who art the fullest manifestation of the love of the Blessed Trinity, thou Mary, our Mother, pray for us now and in the hour of our death. All hail, O Virgin crowned with stars and moon under thy feet, Obtain us pardon of our sins of Christ, our Saviour sweet; For though thou art Mother of any God, yet thy humility Disdaineth not this simple wretch that flies for help to thee. Thou knowest thou art more dear to me than any can express, And that I do congratulate With joy thy happiness. Thou who art the Queen of Heaven and Earth thy helping hand me lend, That I may love and praise my God and have a happy end. And though my sins me terrify, yet hoping still in thee, I find my soul refreshèd much when to thee I do flee; For thou most willingly to God petitions dost present, And dost obtain much grace for us in this our banishment. The honour and the glorious praise by all be given to thee, Which Jesus thy beloved Son, ordained eternally; For thee whom he exalts in heaven above the angels all, And whom we find a Patroness when unto thee we call. O Mater Dei, memento mei. Amen. Dame Gertrude More, O.S.B. Ob. 1633. 
13335	----	Contributed by Jonathon Love THE JESUS OF HISTORY FOREWORD I regard it as a high privilege to be associated with this volume. Many who know and value Mr Glover's work on The Conflict of Religions in the Early Roman Empire must have wistfully desired to secure from his graphic pen just such a book as is here given to the world. He possesses the rare power of reverently handling familiar truths or facts in such manner as to make them seem to be almost new. There are few gifts more precious than this at a time when our familiarity with the greatest and most sacred of all narratives is a chief hindrance to our ready appreciation of its living power. I believe that no one will read Mr Glover's chapters, and especially his description of the parable-teaching given by our Lord, without a sense of having been introduced to a whole series of fresh and fruitful thoughts. He has expanded for us, with the force, the clearness, and the power of vivid illustration which we have learned to expect from him, the meaning of a sentence in the earlier volume I have alluded to, where he insists that, "Jesus of Nazareth does stand in the centre of human history, that He has brought God and man into a new relation, that He is the present concern of every one of us and that there is more in Him than we have yet accounted for."[1] In accordance with its title, the single theme of the book is "The Jesus of History," but the student or exponent of dogmatic theology will find abundant material in its pages. I commend it confidently, both to single students and to those who nowadays, in happily increasing numbers, meet together for common study; and I congratulate those who belong to the Student Christian Movement upon this notable addition to the books published in connection with their far-reaching work. RANDALL CANTUAR LAMBETH Advent Sunday, 1916 PREFACE This book has grown out of lectures upon the historical Jesus given in a good many cities of India during the winter 1915-16. Recast and developed, the lectures were taken down in shorthand in Calcutta; they were revised in Madras; and most of them were wholly re-written, where and when in six following months leisure was available, in places so far apart as Colombo, Maymyo, Rangoon, Kodaikanal, Simla, and Poona. The reader will not expect a heavy apparatus of references to books which were generally out of reach. Here and there are incorporated passages (rehandled) from articles that have appeared in The Constructive Quarterly, The Nation, The Expositor, and elsewhere. Those who themselves have tried to draw the likeness attempted in this book will best understand, and perhaps most readily forgive, failures and mistakes, or even worse, in my drawing. The aim of the book, as of the lectures, is, after all, not to achieve a final presentment of the historical Jesus, but to suggest lines of study that will deepen our interest in him and our love of him. T. R. G. POONA, August 1916 THE JESUS OF HISTORY CONTENTS CHAPTER I THE STUDY OF THE GOSPELS Modern study of religion Historicity of Jesus The gospels as historical sources Canons for the study of a historical figure A caution against antiquarianism here CHAPTER II CHILDHOOD AND YOUTH References in Gospels Utilisation of the parables to reconstruct the domestic life Nature. The city. The talk of the market CHAPTER III THE MAN AND HIS MIND Words and looks, as recorded in the gospels Playfulness of speech Movements of feeling Habits of thought: e.g. Quickness. Feeling for fact. Sympathy. Imagination His use of the Old Testament CHAPTER IV THE TEACHER AND THE DISCIPLES THE BACKGROUND Hardness of the human life in those times Uncertainness as to God's plans for the nation--specially as to His purposes for the Messiah Uncertainty as to the immortality of the soul, and its destinies Re-action of all this upon life THE PROBLEM BEFORE THE TEACHER To induce people to try to re-think God To secure the re-thinking of life from its foundations in view of the new knowledge THE TEACHER AND THE DISCIPLES His personality, and his genius for friendship The disciples--the type he prefers Intimacy, the real secret of his method His ways of speech His seriousness The transformation of the disciples CHAPTER V THE TEACHING OF JESUS UPON GOD JESUS' OWN GOD-CONSCIOUSNESS The Nearness of God God's knowledge and power God's throne Jesus emphasizes mostly God's interest in the individual--the love of God THE KNOWLEDGE OF GOD The discovery of God Parables of the treasure finder and the pearl merchant Faith in God Prayer Life on the basis of God CHAPTER VI JESUS AND MAN Jesus' sympathy with men and their troubles His feelings for the suffering and distressed His feeling for women and children His emphasis on tenderness and forgiveness The characteristics which he values in men The value of the individual soul Jesus and the wasted life Zacchaeus. The woman with the alabaster box. The penitent thief CHAPTER VII JESUS' TEACHING UPON SIN The problem of sin John the Baptist on sin Jesus' psychology of sin more serious The outstanding types of sin which, according to Jesus, involve for a man the utmost risk: (a) Want of tenderness (b) The impure imagination (c) Indifference to truth (d) Indecision Jesus' view of sin as deduced from this teaching Implication of a serious view of redemption CHAPTER VIII THE CHOICE OF THE CROSS What the cross meant to him HIS REFERENCES TO THE GOSPEL AND ITS RESULTS The kingdom of heaven The call for followers His announcement of purpose in his life and death What he means by redemption FACTORS IN HIS CHOICE OF THE CROSS His sense of human need His realization of God His recognition of his own relation to God His prayer life VERIFICATION FROM THE EVENT The Resurrection The new life of the disciples The taking away of the sin of the world RE-EXAMINATION OF HIS CHOICE OF THE CROSS As it bears on the problem of pain and of sin and on God How a man is to understand Jesus Christ CHAPTER IX THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH IN THE ROMAN EMPIRE THE ROMAN EMPIRE One rule of many races General peace and free intercourse the world over Fusion of cultures, traditions, religions "The marriage of East and West" THE OLD RELIGION (1) Its strength: in its ancient tradition in its splendour of art, architecture and ceremony in its oracles, healings and theophanies in its adaptability in absorbing all cults and creeds (2) Its weakness: No deep sense of truth No association with morality Polytheism The fear of the grave (3) Its defence: Plutarch--the Stoics--Neo-Platonism--the Eclectics THE VICTORY OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH (1) Its characteristics (2) Persecuted because it refused to compromise (3) The Christian "out-lived" the pagan "out died" him "out-thought him" CHAPTER X JESUS IN CHRISTIAN THOUGHT The impulse to determine who he is, and his relation to God The records of Christian experience The Study of the personality of Jesus Christ (a) The Gospels (b) Christological theory a guide to experience (c) The new experience of the Reformation period Knowledge gained by the experiment comes before explanation JESUS TO BE KNOWN BY WHAT HE DOES The forgiveness of sin, and the theories to explain it Is a Theology of Redemption possible which shall not be mainly metaphor or simile? THE PROBLEM OF THE INCARNATION The approach is to be "a posterioria" In fact, God and man are only known to us in and by Jesus Only in Christ is the love of God as taught in N.T. tenable To know Jesus in what he can do, is antecedent to theory about him APPENDIX Suggestions for study circle discussions THE JESUS OF HISTORY CHAPTER I THE STUDY OF THE GOSPELS If one thing more than another marks modern thought, it is a new insistence on fact. In every sphere of study there is a growing emphasis on verification. Where a generation ago a case seemed to be closed, to-day in the light of new facts it is reopened. Matters that to our grandfathers were trivialities, to be summarily dismissed, are seriously studied. Again and again we find the most fruitful avenues opened to us by questions that another age might have laughed out of a hearing; to-day they suggest investigation of facts insufficiently known, and of the difficult connexions between them. In psychology and in medicine the results of this new tendency are evident in all sorts of ways--new methods in the treatment of the sick, new inquiries as to the origin of diseases and the possibilities of their prevention, attempts to get at the relations between the soul and body, and a very new open-mindedness as to the spiritual nature and its working and experiences. In other fields of learning it is the same. To the modern student of man and his history the old easy way of excluding religion as an absurdity, the light prediction of its speedy, or at least its eventual, disappearance from the field of human life, and other dogmatisms of the like kind, are almost unintelligible. We realize that religion in some form is a natural working of the human spirit, and, whatever place we give to religion in the conduct of our own lives, as students of history we reckon with the religious instinct as a factor of the highest import, and we give to religious systems and organizations--above all, to religious teachers and leaders--a more sympathetic and a profounder study. Carlyle's lecture on Muhammad, in his course on "Heroes and Hero Worship," may be taken as a landmark for English people in this new treatment history. The Christian Church, whether we like it or not, has been a force of unparalleled power in human affairs; and prophecies that it will no longer be so, and allegations that by now it has ceased to be so, are not much made by cautious thinkers. There is evidence that the influence of the Christian Church, so far from ebbing, is rising--evidence more obvious when we reflect that the influence of such a movement is not to be quickly guessed from the number of its actual adherents. A century and a quarter of Christian missions in India have resulted in so many converts--a million and a quarter is no slight outcome; but that is a small part of the story. All over India the old religious systems are being subjected to a new study by their own adherents; their weak points are being felt; there are reform movements, new apologetics, compromises, defences--all sorts of indications of ferment and transition. There can be little question that while many things go to the making of an age, the prime impulse to all this intellectual, religious, and moral upheaval was the faith of Christian missionaries that Jesus Christ would bring about what we actually see. They believed--and they were laughed at for their belief--that Jesus Christ was still a real power, permanent and destined to hold a larger place in the affairs of men; and we see that they were right. Jesus remains the very heart and soul of the Christian movement, still controlling men, still capturing men--against their wills very often--changing men's lives and using them for ends they never dreamed of. So much is plain to the candid observer, whatever the explanation. We find further, another fact of even more significance to the historian who will treat human experience with seriousness and sympathy. The cynical view that delusion and error in a real world have peculiar power in human affairs, may be dismissed; no serious student of history could hold it. For those who believe, as we all do at heart, that the world is rational, that real effects follow real causes, and conversely that behind great movements lie great forces, the fact must weigh enormously that wherever the Christian Church, or a section of it, or a single Christian, has put upon Jesus Christ a higher emphasis--above all where everything has been centred in Jesus Christ--there has been an increase of power for Church, or community, or man. Where new value has been found in Jesus Christ, the Church has risen in power, in energy, in appeal, in victory. Paul of Tarsus progressively found more in Christ, expected more of him, trusted him more; and his faith was justified. If Paul was wrong, how did he capture the Christian Church for his ideas? If he was wrong, how is it that when Luther caught his meaning, re-interpreted him and laid the same emphasis on Jesus Christ with his "Nos nihil sumus, Christus solus est omnia"[2], once more the hearts of men were won by the higher doctrine of Christ's person and power, and a new era followed the new emphasis? How is it that, when John Wesley made the same discovery, and once more staked all on faith in Christ, again the Church felt the pulse of new life? On the other hand, where through a nebulous philosophy men have minimized Jesus, or where, through some weakness of the human mind, they have sought the aid of others and relegated Jesus Christ to a more distant, even if a higher, sphere--where, in short, Christ is not the living centre of everything, the value of the Church has declined, its life has waned. That, to my own mind, is the most striking and outstanding fact in history. There must be a real explanation of a thing so signal in a rational universe. The explanation in most human affairs comes after the recognition of the fact. There our great fact stands of the significance of Jesus Christ--a more wonderful thing as we study it more. We may fail to explain it, but we must recognize it. One of the weaknesses of the Church to-day is--put bluntly--that Christians are not making enough of Jesus Christ. We find again that, where Jesus Christ is most real, and means most, there we are apt to see the human mind reach a fuller freedom and achieve more. There is a higher civilization, a greater emphasis on the value of human life and character, and a stronger endeavour for the utmost development of all human material, if we may so call the souls and faculties of men. Why should there be this correspondence between Jesus of Nazareth and human life? It is best brought out, when we realize what he has made of Christian society, and contrast it with what the various religions have left or produced in other regions--the atrophy of human nature. In fine, there is no figure in human history that signifies more. Men may love him or hate him, but they do it intensely. If he was only what some say, he ought to be a mere figure of antiquity by now. But he is more than that; Jesus is not a dead issue; he has to be reckoned with still; and men who are to treat mankind seriously, must make the intellectual effort to understand the man on whom has been centred more of the interest and the passion of the most serious and the best of mankind than on any other. The real secret is that human nature is deeply and intensely spiritual, and that Jesus satisfies it at its most spiritual point. The object before us in these pages is the attempt to know Jesus, if we can, in a more intimate and intelligent way than we have done--at least, to put before our minds the great problem, Who is this Jesus Christ? and to try to answer it. One answer to this question is that Jesus was nothing, never was anything, but a myth developed for religious purposes; that he never lived at all. This view reappears from time to time, but so far it has not appealed to any who take a serious interest in history. No historian of the least repute has committed himself to the theory. Desperate attempts have been made to discredit the Christian writers of the first two centuries; it has been emphasized that Jesus is not mentioned in secular writers of the period, and the passage in Tacitus ("Annals", XV:44) has been explained away as a Christian interpolation, or, more gaily, by reviving the wild notion that Poggio Bracciolini forged the whole of the "Annals". But such trifling with history and literature does not serve. No scholar accepts the theory about Poggio--and yet if the passage about Christ is to be got rid of, this is the better way of the two; for there is nothing to countenance the view that the chapter is interpolated, or to explain when or by whom it was done--the wish is father to the thought. Christians are twice mentioned by Suetonius in dealing with Emperors of the first century, though in one passage the reading "Chrestus" for "Christus" has suggested to some scholars that another man is meant; the confusion was a natural one and is instanced elsewhere, but we need not press the matter. The argument from silence is generally recognized as an uncertain one. Sir James Melville, living at the Court of Mary, Queen of Scots, does not, I learn, mention John Knox--"whom he could not have failed to mention if Knox had really existed and played the part assigned to him by his partisans," and so forth. It might be as possible and as reasonable to prove that the Brahmo Samaj never existed, by demonstrating four hundred years hence--or two thousand--that it is not mentioned in In Memoriam, nor in The Ring and the Book, nor in George Meredith's, novels, nor (more strangely) in any of Mr. Kipling's surviving works, which definitely deal with India. None of these writers, it may be replied, had any concern to mention the Brahmo Samaj. And when one surveys the Greek and Roman writers of the first century A.D. which of them had any concern to refer to Jesus and his disciples, beyond the historians who do? Indeed, the difficulty is to understand why some of these men should have written at all; harder still, why others should have wanted to read their poems and orations and commonplace books. One argument, advanced in India a few years ago, against the historical value of the Gospels may be revived by way of illustration. Would not Virgil and Horace, it was asked, have taken notice of the massacre at Bethlehem, if it was historical? Would they not? it was replied, when they both had died years before its traditional date. But the distinction between Christian and secular writers is not one that will weigh much with a serious historian. Until we have reason to distinguish between book and book, the evidence must be treated on exactly the same principles. To say abruptly that, because Luke was a Christian and Suetonius a pagan, Luke is not worthy of the credence given to Suetonius, is a line of approach that will most commend itself to those who have read neither author. To gain a real knowledge of historical truth, the historian's methods must be slower and more cautious, he must know his author intimately--his habits of mind, his turns of style, his preferences, his gifts for seeing the real issue--and always the background, and the ways of thinking that prevail in the background. An ancient writer is not necessarily negligible because he records, and perhaps believes, miracles or marvels or omens which a modern would never notice. It is bad criticism that has made a popular legend of the unreliable character of Herodotus. As our knowledge of antiquity grows, and we become able to correct our early impressions, the credit of Herodotus rises steadily, and to-day those who study him most closely have the highest opinion of him. We may, then, without prejudice, take the evidence of Paul of Tarsus on the historicity of Jesus, and examine it. If we are challenged as to the genuineness of Paul's epistles, let us tell our questioner to read them. Novels have been written in the form of correspondence; but Paul's letters do not tell us all that a novelist or a forger would--there are endless gaps, needless references to unknown persons (needless to us, or to anybody apart from the people themselves), constant occupation with questions which we can only dimly discover from Paul's answers. The letters are genuine letters--written for the occasion to particular people, and not meant for us. The stamp of genuineness is on them--of life, real life. The German scholar, Norden, in his Kunstprosa, says there is much in Paul that he does not understand, but he catches in him again after three hundred years that note of life that marks the great literature of Greece. That is not easily forged. Luther and Erasmus were right when they said--each of them has said it, however it happened--that Paul "spoke pure flame." The letters, and the theology and its influence, establish at once Paul's claim to be a historical character. We may then ask, how a man of his ability failed to observe that a non-historical Jesus, a pure figment, was being palmed off on him--on a contemporary, it should be marked--and by a combination of Jesus' own disciples with earlier friends of Paul, who were trying to exterminate them. Paul knew priests and Pharisees; he knew James and John and Peter; and he never detected that they were in collusion, yes, and to the point of martyring Stephen--to impose on him and on the world a non-historical Jesus. To such straits are we brought, if Jesus never existed. History becomes pure nonsense, and knowledge of historical fact impossible; and, it may be noted, all knowledge is abolished if history is beyond reach. But we are not dependent on books for our evidence of the historicity of Jesus. The whole story of the Church implies him. He is inwrought in every feature of its being. Every great religious movement, of which we know, has depended on a personal impulse, and has behind it some real, living and inspiring personality. It is true that at a comparatively late stage of Hinduism a personal devotion to Shri Krishna grew up, just as in the hour of decline of the old Mediterranean paganism we find Julian the Apostate using a devotional language to Athena at Athens that would have astonished the contemporaries of Pericles. But Jesus, Buddha, and Muhammad stand on a very different footing from Krishna and Athena, even if we concede the view of some scholars that Krishna was once a man, and the contention of Euhemerus, a pre-Christian Greek, that all the gods had once been human. If we posit that Jesus did not exist, we shall be involved other difficulties as to the story of the Church. Mr. F. C. Conybeare, an Oxford scholar avowedly not in allegiance to the Christian Church, has characterized some of the reconstructions made by contemporary anti-Christian writers as more miraculous than the history they are trying to correct. We come now to the Gospels; and in what follows, and throughout the book, we shall confine ourselves the first three Gospels. Great as has been, and must be, the influence of the Fourth Gospel, in the present stage of historical criticism it will serve our purpose best to postpone the use of a source which we do not fully understand. The exact relations of history and interpretation in the Fourth Gospel--the methods and historical outlook of the writer--cannot yet be said to be determined. "Only those who have merely trifled with the problems it suggests are likely to speak dogmatically upon the subject."[3] This is not to abandon the Fourth Gospel; for it is a document which we could not do without in early Church History, and which has vindicated its place in the devotional life in every Christian generation. But, for the present, the first Three Gospels will be our chief sources. The Gospels have, of course, been attacked again and again. Sober criticism has raised the question as to whether here and there traces may be found of the touch of a later hand--for example, were there two asses or one, when Jesus rode into Jerusalem? has the baptismal formula at the end of Matthew been adjusted to the creed of Nicaea? In the following pages the attempt will be made to base what is said not on isolated texts, which may--and of course may not--have been touched, but on the general tenor of the books. A single episode or phrase may suffer change from a copyist's hand, from inadvertence or from theological predilection. The character of the Personality set forth in the Gospels is less susceptible of alteration. This point is at once of importance, for the suggestion has been made that we cannot be sure of any particular statement, episode, incident or saying in the Gospels--taken by itself. Let us for the moment imagine a more sweeping theory still--that no single episode incident or saying of Jesus in the Gospels is authentic at all. What follows? The great historian, E. A. Freeman of Oxford, once said that a false anecdote may be good history; it may be sound evidence for character, for, to obtain currency, a false anecdote has also to true; it must be, in our proverbial phrase, "if not true, well invented." Even if exaggeration and humour contribute to give it a twist, the essence of parody is that it parodies--it must conform to the original even where it leaves it. A good story-teller will hardly tell the same story of Mr. Roosevelt and the Archbishop of Canterbury--unless it happens to be true, and then he will be cautious. "Truth," to quote another proverb, "is stranger than fiction"; because fiction has to go warily to be probable, and must be, more or less, conventional. The story a man invents about another has to be true in some recognizable way to character--as a little experiment in this direction will show. The inventor of a story must have the gift of the caricaturist and of the bestower of nicknames; he must have a shrewd eye for the real features of his victim. Jesus, then, was a historical person; and about him we have a mass of stories in the Gospels, which our theory for the moment asks us to say are all false; but they have a certain unity of tone, and they agree in pointing to a character of a certain type, and the general aspects and broad outlines of that character they make abundantly clear. Even on such a hypothesis we can know something of the character of Jesus. But the hypothesis is gratuitous, and absurd, as the paragraphs that follow may help to show. The Gospels are essentially true and reliable records of a historical person. A survey of some of the outstanding features of the Gospels should do something to assure their reader of their historical value. But there is a necessary caution to be given at this moment. When Aristotle discusses happiness, he adds a curious limitation--"as the man of sense would define." He postulates a certain intelligence of the matter in hand. Similarly Longinus, the greatest of ancient critics, says that in literature sure judgement is the outcome of long experience. In matters of historical and literary criticism, a certain instinct is needed, conscious or unconscious, perhaps more often the latter, which without a serious interest and a long experience no man is likely to have. The Gospels are not properly biographies; they consist of collections of reminiscences--memories and fragments that have survived for years, and sometimes the fragment is little more than a phrase. Such and such were the circumstances, and Jesus spoke--a story that may occupy four or five verses, or less. Something happened, Jesus said or did something that impressed his friends, and they could never forget it. The story, as such impressions do, keeps its sharp edges. Date and perhaps even place may be forgotten, but the look and the tone of the speaker are indelible memories. In the experience of every man there are such moments, and the reminiscences can be trusted. The Gospels are almost avowedly not first-hand. Peter is said to be behind Mark; Mark and at least one other are behind Matthew and Luke. Luke in his preface explains his methods. They are collectors and transmitters; and the indications--are that they did their work very faithfully. There is a simplicity and a plainness about the stories in the Gospels, which further guarantees them. It is remarkable how little of the adjective there is--no compliment, no eulogy, no heroic touches, no sympathetic turn of phrase, no great passages of encomium or commendation. It is often said about the Greek historian, Thucydides, that, among his many intellectual judgements, he never offers a criticism of any act that implies moral approbation or disapprobation; that he says nothing to show that he had feelings or that he cared about questions of right and wrong. Page after page of Thucydides will make the reader tingle with pity or indignation; there is hardly in literature so tragic a story as the Syracusan expedition--and the writer did not feel! Is it not the sternest and deepest feeling, after all, when a man will not "unpack his heart with words"? Something of this kind we find in the Gospels. There is not a word of condemnation for Herod or Pilate, for priest or Pharisee; not a touch of sympathy as the nails are driven through those hands; a blunt phrase about the soldiers, "And sitting down they watched him there" (Matt. 26:36)--that is all. (From a literary point of view, what a triumph of awful, quiet objectivity! and they had no such aim.) Luke indeed has one slight touch that might be called irony[4]--"And he released unto them him that for sedition and murder was cast into prison, whom they had desired; but he delivered Jesus to their will" (Luke 23:25)--and yet the irony is in the story itself. "Why callest thou me good?" So it is recorded that Jesus once answered a compliment (Matt. 19:17); and it looks as if the mood had passed over to his intimates, and from them to their friends who wrote the Gospels. He meant too much for them to seek the facile relief of praise. The words of praise die away, yes, and the words of affection too; and their silence and self-restraint are in themselves evidence of their truth; and more winning than words could have been. Here and there the Gospels keep a phrase actually used by Jesus, and in his native Aramaic speech. The Greek was not apt to use or quote foreign phrases--unlike the Englishman who "has been at a great feast of languages and stolen the scraps." Why, then, do the Evangelists, writing for Greek readers, keep the Aramaic sentences? It looks like a human instinct that made Peter--if, as we are told, he had some part in the origination of Mark's Gospel--and the rest wish to keep the very words and tones of their Master, as most of us would wish to keep the accents and phrases of those we love. Was there no satisfaction to the people who had lived with Jesus, when they read in Mark the very syllables they had heard him use, and caught his great accents again? Is there not for Christians in every age a joy and an inspiration in knowing the very sounds his lips framed? The first word that his mother taught him survives in Abba (Father)--something of his own speech to let us begin at the beginning; something, again, that takes us to the very heart of him at the end, in his cry: Eloi, Eloi, lama sabachthani (Mark 15:34). Is it not true that we come nearer to him in that cry in the language strange to us, but his own? Would not the story, again, be poorer without the little tender phrase that he used to the daughter of Jairus (Mark 5:41). From time to time we find in the Gospels matters for which the writers and those behind them have felt that some apology or at least some explanation was needed. His friendship for sinners was a taunt against him in his lifetime; so was his inattention to the Sabbath (Mark 2:24, 3:2), and the details of ceremonial washing (Mark 7:1-5). The faithful record of these is a sound indication both of the date[5] and of the truth of the Gospels. But these were not all. Celsus, in 178 A.D., in his True Word, mocked at Jesus because of the cry upon the cross; he reminded Christians that many and many a worthless knave had endured in brave silence, and their Great Man cried out. It was from the Gospels that his knowledge came (Mark 15:37). Even during his lifetime the Gospels reveal much about Jesus that in contemporary opinion would degrade him--sighs and tears and fatigue, liability to emotion and to pain, friendship with women. With these revelations of character we may group passages where the Gospels tell of Jesus surprising or shocking his disciples--startling them by some act or some opinion, for which they were not prepared, or which was contrary to common belief or practice--passages, too, where he blames or criticizes them for conventionality or unintelligence. It has been remarked that the frequency and fidelity of Jesus' own allusions to country life, his illustrations from bird and beast and flower, and the work of the farm, are evidence for the genuineness of the tradition. Early Christianity, as we see already in the Acts of the Apostles, was prevailingly urban. Paul aimed at the great centres of population, where men gathered and from which ideas spread. The language of Paul in his epistles, the sermons inserted by Luke in the Acts, writings that survive of early Christians, are all in marked contrast to the speech of Jesus in this matter of country life. When we recall the practice of ancient historians of composing speeches for insertion in their narratives, and weigh the suggestion that the sermons in the Acts may conceivably owe much to the free rehandling of Luke or may even be his own compositions, there is a fresh significance in his marked abstention from any such treatment of the words of Jesus. It means that we may be secure in using them as genuine and untouched reproductions of what he said and thought. This leads us to another point. The central figure of the Gospels must impress every attentive reader as at least a man of marked personality. He has his own attitude to life, his own views of God and man and all else, and his own language, as we shall see in the pages that follow. So much his own are all these things that it is hard to imagine the possibility of his being a mere literary creation, even if we could concede a joint literary creation by several authors writing independent works. Indeed, when we reflect on the character of the Gospels, their origin and composition, and then consider the sharp, strong outlines of the personality depicted, we shall be apt to feel his claim to historicity to be stronger than we supposed. Finally, two points may be mentioned. The Church from the very start accepted the Gospels. Two of them were written by men in Paul's own personal circle (Philemon 24; Col. 4:10, 14). All found early acceptance and wide use,[6] and after a century we find Irenaeus maintaining that four Gospels are necessary, and are necessarily all--there are four points of the compass, seasons and so forth; therefore it is appropriate that there are four Gospels. The argument is not very convincing; but that such an argument was possible is evidence to the position of the Gospels as we have them. We must remember the solidarity of that early Church. The constituency, for which the Gospels were written, was steeped in the tradition of Jesus' life, and the Christians accepted the Gospels, as embodying what they knew; and there were still survivors from the first days of the Gospel. When Boswell's Life of Johnson was published, the great painter, Sir Joshua Reynolds, a lifelong friend of Johnson, said it might be depended upon as if delivered upon oath; Burke too had a high opinion of the book. In the same way the Gospels come recommended to us by those who knew Jesus, though, it is true, we do not know their names. The Gospels do not tell us all that Christians thought of Jesus, but they imply more than they say. The writers limited themselves. That Luke, for years a friend of Paul's, so generally kept his great friend's theology, above all his Christology, out of his Gospel, is significant. It does not mean divergence of view. More reasonably we may conclude something else: he held to his literary and other authorities, and he was content; for he knew to what the historical Jesus brings men--to new life and larger views, to a series of new estimates of Jesus himself. He left it there. In what follows, we must not forget in our study that behind the Gospels, simple and objective as they are, is the larger experience of the ever-working Christ. There are three canons which may be laid down for the study of any human character, whether of the past or of to-day. They are so simple that it may hardly seem worth while to have stated them; yet they are not always very easy to apply. Without them the acutest critic will fail to give any sound account of a human character. First of all, give the man's words his own meaning. Make sure that every term he uses has the full value he intends it to carry, connotes all he wishes it to cover, and has the full emotional power and suggestion that it has for himself. Two quite simple illustrations may serve. The English-born clergyman in Canada who spoke of a meeting of his congregation as a "homely gathering" did not produce quite the effect he intended; "home-like" is one thing in Canada, "homely" quite another, and the people laughed at the slip--they knew, what he did not, that "homely" meant hard-featured and ugly. My other illustration will take us towards the second canon. I remember, years ago, a working-man of my own city talking a swift, impulsive Socialism to me. He was young and something of a poet. He got in return the obvious common sense that would be expected of a mid-Victorian, middle-aged and middle-class. And then he began to talk of hunger--the hunger that haunted whole streets in our city, where they had indeed something to eat every day, but never quite enough, and the children grew up so--the hunger that he had experienced himself, for I knew his story. With his eyes fixed on me, he brought home to me by the quiet intensity of his speech--whether he knew what he effected or not--that he and I gave hunger different senses. He gave the word for me a new meaning, with the glimpse he gave me of his experience. Since then I have always felt, when men fling theories out like his--schemes, too, like his--wild and impracticable: "Ah, yes! what is at the heart of it all? What but this awful experience which they have known and you have not--the sight of your own folk hungering, life and faculty wasted for want of mere food, and children growing up atrophied from the cradle"? It is not easy to dissociate the language and the terms of others from the meaning one gives to them oneself; it means intellectual effort and intellectual discipline, a training of a strenuous kind in sympathy and tenderness; but if we are to be fair, it must be done. And the rule applies to Jesus also. Have we given his meaning to his term--force, value, emotion, and suggestion? In a later chapter we shall have to concentrate on one term of his--God--and try to discover what he intends that term to convey. The second canon is: Make sure of the experience behind the thought. How does a man come to think and feel as he does? That is the question antecedent to any real criticism. What is it that has led him to such a view? It is more important for us to determine that, than to decide at once whether we think him right or wrong. Again and again the quiet and sympathetic study of what a man has been through will modify our judgement upon his conclusions; it will often change our own conclusions, or even our way of thinking. We have, then, to ask ourselves, What is the experience that leads Jesus to speak as he does, to think as he does? In his case, as in every other, the central and crucial question is, What is his experience of God? In other words, What has he found in God? what relations has he with God? What does he expect of God? What is God to him? Such questions, if we are candid and not too quick in answering, will take us a long way. It was once said of a man, busy with some labour problem, that he was "working it out in theory, unclouded by a single fact." Is it not fair to say that many of our current judgements upon Jesus Christ are no better founded? Can we say that we have any real, sure, and intimate knowledge of his experience of God? The old commentator, Bengel, wrote at the beginning of his book that a man, who is setting out to interpret Scripture, has to ask "by what right" he does it. What is our right to an opinion on Jesus Christ? The third canon will be: Ask of what type and of what dimensions the nature must be, that is capable of that experience and of that language. One of the commonest sources of bad criticism is the emphasis on weak points. The really important thing in criticism is to understand the triumphs of the poet or painter, let us say, whom we are studying. How came he to achieve poem or picture, so profound and so true? In what does he differ from other men, that he should do work so fundamental and so eternal? Lamb's punning jest at Wordsworth--that Wordsworth was saying he could have written Hamlet, if he had had the mind--puts the matter directly. What is the mind that can do such things? The historian will have to ask himself a similar question about Jesus. Here we reach a point where caution is necessary. Will the Jesus we draw be an antiquary's Jesus--an archaic figure, simple and lovable perhaps, but quaint and old-world--in blunt language, outgrown? A Galilean peasant, dressed in the garb of his day and place, his mind fitted out with the current ideas of his contemporaries, elevated, it may be, but not essentially changed? A dreamer, with the clouds of the visionaries and apocalyptists ever in his head? When we look at the ancient world, the great men are not archaic figures. Matthew Arnold found in Homer something of the clearness and shrewdness of Voltaire. There is thing archaic about Plato or Virgil or Paul--to keep abreast of their thinking is no easy task for the strongest of our brains, so modern, eternal, and original they are. They have shaped the thinking of the world and are still shaping it. How much more Jesus of Nazareth! When we make our picture of him, does it suggest the man who has stirred mankind to its depths, set the world on fire (Luke 12:49), and played an infinitely larger part in all the affairs of men than any man we know of in history? Is it a great figure? Does our emphasis fall on the great features of that nature--are they within our vision, and in our drawing? Does our explanation of him really explain him, or leave him more a riddle? What do we make of his originality? Is it in our picture? What was it in him that changed Peter and James and John and the rest from companions into worshippers, that in every age has captured and controlled the best, the deepest, and tenderest of men? Are we afraid that our picture will be too modern, too little Jewish? These are not the real dangers. Again, and again our danger is that we under-estimate the great men of our race, and we always lose by so doing. That we should over-estimate Jesus is not a real risk; the story of the Church shows that the danger has always been the other way. But not to under-estimate such a figure is hard. To see him as he is, calls for all we have of intellect, of tenderness, of love, and of greatness. It is worth while to try to understand him even if we fail. God, said St. Bernard, is never sought in vain, even when we do not find Him. Jesus Christ transcends our categories and classification; we never exhaust him; and one element of Christian happiness is that there is always more in him than we supposed. CHAPTER II CHILDHOOD AND YOUTH It has been remarked as an odd thing by some readers that the Gospels tell us so little of the childhood of Jesus. It must be remembered, however, that they are not really biographies, even of the ancient order--still less of that modern kind, in which the main concern is a tracing of the psychological development of the man. Plutarch, the prince of ancient biographers, put fact and eulogy together, cited characteristic sayings or doings of his hero, quoted contemporary judgements, and wove the whole into a charming narrative, good to read, pleasant to remember, perhaps not without use as a lesson in conventional morality; but with little real historical criticism in it, and as little, or less, attempt at any effective reconstruction of a character. His biography of Pericles illustrates his method and his defects. The writers of the Gospels did not altogether propose biography as their object either in the ancient or the modern style. They left out--perhaps because it did not survive--much about the life of Jesus that we should like to know. The treatment of Mark by Matthew shows a certain matter-of-fact habit, which explains the obvious want of interest in aspects of the life and mind of Jesus that would to a modern be fascinating. They are dealing with the earthly life of the Son of God--and they deal with it with a faithfulness to tradition and reminiscence, which is, when we really consider it, quite surprising. But it is the heavenward side of the Master that mattered to them most, and it is perhaps not a mere random guess that they were not in any case so aware of the interest of childhood and of children as Jesus was. Matthew and Luke record the miraculous birth, and each adds a story, that has never failed to fascinate men, of the Magi or the Shepherds who came to the manger cradle. Luke gives one episode of Jesus' childhood. That is all. The writers of the Apocryphal Gospels did their best to fill the gap by inventing or developing stories, pretty, silly, or repellent, which only show how little they understood the original Gospels or the character of Jesus. But when we turn to the parables of Jesus, and ask ourselves how they came to be what they are, by what process of mind he framed them, and where he found the experience from which one and another of them spring, it is at once clear that a number of them are stories of domestic life, and the question suggests itself, Why should he have gone afield for what he found at home? If we know that he grew up in the ordinary circle of a home, and then find him drawing familiar illustrations from the common scenes of home, the inference is easy that he is going back to the remembered daily round of his own boyhood. In stray hints the Gospels give us a little of the framework of that boyhood in Nazareth. The elder Joseph early disappears from the story, and we find a reference to four brothers and several sisters. "Is not this the carpenter?" people at Nazareth asked, "the son of Mary, the brother of James and Joseph, and of Judah and Simon? and are not his sisters here with us?" (Mark 6:3); Matthew adds a word that may or may not be significant "his sisters are they not all with us?" (Matt. 13:56). In ancient times a particular view of the Incarnation, linked with other contemporary views of celibacy and the baseness of matter, led men to discover or invent the possibility that these brothers and sisters were either the children of Joseph by a former wife, or the cousins of Jesus on his mother's side.[7] That cousins in some parts of the world actually are confused in common speech with brothers may be admitted; but to the ordinary Greek reader "brothers" meant brothers, and "cousins" something different. No one, not starting with the theories of St. Jerome, let us say, on marriage and matter and the decencies of the Incarnation, would ever dream from the Greek narrative of the episode of the critical neighbours at Nazareth, who will not accept Jesus as a prophet because they know his family--a delightfully natural and absurd reason, with history written plain on the face of it--that Jesus had no brothers, only cousins or half-brothers at best. When History gives us brothers, and Dogma says they must be cousins--in any other case the decision of the historian would be clear, and so it is here. We have then a household--a widow with five sons and at least two, or very likely more, daughters. Jesus is admittedly her eldest son, and is bred to be a carpenter; and a carpenter he undoubtedly was up to, we are told, about thirty years of age (Luke 3:23). The dates of his birth and death are not quite precisely determined, and people have fancied he may have been rather older at the beginning of his ministry. For our purposes it is not of much importance. The more relevant question for us is: How came he to wait till he was at least about thirty years old before he began to teach in public? One suggested answer finds the impulse, or starting-point, of his ministry in the appearance of John the Baptist. It is a simpler inference from such data as we have that the claims of a widowed mother with six or seven younger children, a poor woman with a carpenter's little brood to bring up, may have had something to do with his delay. In any case, the parables give us pictures of the undeniable activities of the household. A group of parables and other allusions illustrate the life of woman as Jesus saw it in his mother's house. He pictures two women grinding together at the mill (Luke 17:35), and then the heating of the oven (Matt. 6:30)--the mud oven, not unlike the "field ovens" used for a while by the English army in France in 1915, and heated by the burning of wood inside it, kindled with "the grass of the field." Meanwhile the leaven is at work in the meal where the woman hid it (Matt. 13:33), and her son sits by and watches the heaving, panting mass--the bubbles rising and bursting, the fall of the level, and the rising of other bubbles to burst in their turn--all bubbles. Later on, the picture came back to him--it was like the Kingdom of God--"all bubbles!" said the disappointed, but he saw more clearly. The bubbles are broken by the force of the active life at work beneath--life, not death, is the story. The Kingdom of God is life; the leaven is of more account than any number of bubbles. And we may link all these parables from bread--making with what he says of the little boy asking for bread (Matt. 7:9)--the mother fired the oven and set the leaven in the meal long before the child was hungry; she looked ahead and the bread was ready. Is not this written also in the teaching of Jesus--"your heavenly Father knoweth that ye have need of all these things" (Matt. 6:32)? God, he holds, is as little taken aback by his children's needs as Mary was by hers, and the little boys did not did not confine their demands to bread--they wanted eggs and fish as well (Matt. 7:10; Luke 11:11, 12; and cf. John 6:9)--there was no end to their healthy appetites. It is significant that he mentions the price of the cheapest flesh food used by peasants (Luke 12:6). They also wanted clothes, and wore them as hard as boys do. The time would come when new clothes were needed; but why could not the old ones be patched, and passed down yet another stage? And his mother would smile--and perhaps she asked him to try for himself to see why; and he learnt by experiment that old clothes cannot be patched beyond a certain point, and later on he remembered the fact, and quoted it with telling effect (Mark 2:21). He pictures little houses (Luke 11:5-7) and how they are swept (Luke 11:25)--especially when a coin has rolled away, into a dusty corner or under something (Luke 15:8); and candles, and bushels (Matt. 5:15), and beds, and moth, and rust (Matt. 6:19) and all sorts of things that make the common round of life, come into his talk, as naturally as they did into his life. The carpenter's shop, we may suppose, was close to the house--a shop where men might count on good work and honest work; and what memories must have gathered round it! Is it fanciful to suggest that what the churches have always been saying, about "Coming to Jesus," began to be said in a natural and spontaneous way in that shop? Those little brothers and sisters did not always agree, and tempers would now and then grow very warm among them (cf. Luke 7:39). And then the big brother came and fetched them away from the little house to the shop, and set one of them to pick up nails, and the other to sweep up shavings--to help the carpenter. They helped him. Like small boys, when they help, they got in his road at every turn. But somehow they slipped back to a jolly frame of mind. The big brother told them stories, and they came back different people. I can picture a day when there was a woman in the little house, weary and heavy-laden, and the door opened, and a cheery, pleasant face looked in, and said, "Won't you come and talk to me?" And she came and talked with him and life became a different thing for her. Are these pictures fanciful--mere imagination? Are we to think that all the tenderness of Jesus came to him by a miracle when he was thirty years of age? Must we not think it was all growing up in that house and in that shop? Or did he never tell a story--he who tells them so charmingly--till he wanted parables? We have to note, at the same time, some elements of criticism of the elder brother in the family attitude, some defect of sympathy and failure to understand him, even if kindness prompted their action in later days (Mark 3:21, 31). Nazareth lies in a basin among hills, from the rim of which can be seen to the southward the historic plain of Esdraelon, and eastward the Jordan valley and the hills of Gilead, and westward the Mediterranean. On great roads, north and south of the town's girdle of hills, passed to and fro the many-coloured traffic between Egypt and Mesopotamia and the Orient. Traders, pilgrims, Herods--"the kingdoms of the world and the glory of them" (Matt. 6:8)--all within reach, and travelling no faster as a rule than the camel cared to go--they formed a panorama of life for a thoughtful and imaginative boy. More than one allusion to king's clothes comes in his recorded teaching (Matt. 6:29, 11:8), and it was here that he saw them--and noticed them and remembered. One is struck with the amount of that unconscious assimilation of experience which we find in his words, and which is in itself an index to his nature. We are not expressly told that he sought the sights that the road afforded; but it would be hard to believe that a bright, quick boy, with genius in him, with poetry in him, with feeling for the real and for life, never went down on to that road, never walked alongside of the caravans and took note of the strange people "from the east and from the west, from the north and from the south" (Luke 13:29)--Nubians, Egyptians, Romans, Gauls, Britons, and Orientals.[8] In the one anecdote that survives of his boyhood, we find men "astonished at his understanding" (Luke 2:47), his gift for putting questions, and his comments on the answers; and all life through he had a genius for friendship. When we consider how Jesus handles Nature and her wilder children in his parables, another point attracts attention. Men vary a great deal in this. To take two of the Old Testament prophets, we find a marked difference here between Ezekiel and Jeremiah. Ezekiel "puts forth a riddle and speaks a parable" about an eagle--a frankly heraldic eagle, that plants a tree-top in a city of merchants (Ezek. 17:2-5). Jeremiah is obviously country-bred. He might have been surprised, if he had been told how often he illustrates his thought from bird and beast and country life--and always with a certain life-like precision and a perfectly clear sympathy. In the Gospels we find again the same faithfulness to living nature, another country-bred boy with the same love for bird and beast and the wild, open countryside. The Earth And common face of Nature spake to me Rememberable things.[9] Nature is enough for Jesus as for Jeremiah; she needs no remodelling, no heraldic paints--"long pinions of divers colours"--she will do as she is; she is just splendid and lovable and true as God made her; and she slides into his mind whenever he is deeply moved. Think of all the parables he draws from Nature--the similes, metaphors, and illustrations; every one of them will bear examination, and means more the nearer we look into it, and the better we know the living thing behind. The eagle, in Jesus' sentence, plants no trees, but it has the living bird's instinct for carrion; the ancient Greek historian and Lord Roberts at Delhi in 1858 remarked that "wheresoever the body is, thither will the eagles be gathered together" (Luke 17:37). In India that year, it was said, they gathered from all over to Delhi. What brought them? Instinct, we say; and we find Jesus, in that rather dark sentence, suggesting somehow that there is an instinct which knows "where." And sheep and cows and asses, and hens and sparrows, and red sunsets, fill men's reminiscences of his talk; and we may safely conclude that, when allusions are so many in fragments of conversation preserved as these are, the man's speech and mind were attuned to the love of bird and beast. Is there another teacher of those times who is at all so sure that God loves bird and flower? The Greek poet Meleager of Gadara--not so very far removed from Jesus in space of time--has a good deal to say about flowers, but not at all in the same sense as Jesus, not with any feeling such as his for the immortal hand and eye that planned their symmetry, and their colours and sweetness. St. Paul is conspicuously a man of the town--"a citizen of no mean city" (Acts 21:39), and he dismisses the animals abruptly (1 Cor. 9:9); he has hardly an allusion to the familiar and homely aspects of Nature, so frequent and so pleasant in the speech of Jesus. He finds Nature, if not quite "red in tooth and claw", yet groaning together, subject to vanity, in bondage to corruption, travailing in pain, looking forward in a sort of desperate hope to a freedom not yet realized (Rom. 8:19-24). Nature is far less tragic for Jesus, far happier--perhaps because he knew nature on closer terms of intimacy; Nature, as he portrays things, is in nearer touch with the Heavenly Father than we should guess from Paul[10], and there is no hint in his recorded words that he held the ground to be under a curse. If we are to use abstract terms and philosophize his thought a little, we may agree that the four facts Jesus notes in Nature are its mystery, its regularity, its impartiality, and its peacefulness[11]. What he finds in Nature is not unlike what Wordsworth also finds-- A Power That is the visible quality and shape And image of right reason; that matures Her processes by steadfast laws; gives birth To no impatient or fallacious hopes, No heat of passion or excessive zeal, No vain conceits; provokes to no quick turns Of self-applauding intellect; but trains To meekness, and exalts by humble faith; Holds up before the mind intoxicate With present objects, and the busy dance Of things that pass away, a temperate show Of objects that endure?[12] This is not a passage that one could imagine the historical Jesus speaking, or, still less, writing; but the essential ideas chime in with his observation and his attitude "for the earth bringeth forth fruit of herself; first the blade, then the ear, after that the full corn in the ear" (Mark 4:28). Man can count safely on earth's co-operation. From it all, and in it all, Jesus read deep into God's mind and methods. It has often been remarked how apt Jesus was to go away to pray alone in the desert or on the hillside, in the night or the early dawn--probably no new habit induced by the crowded days of his ministry, but an old way of his from youth. The full house, perhaps, would prompt it, apart from what he found in the open. St. Augustine, in a very appealing confession, tells us how his prayers may be disturbed if he catch sight of a lizard snapping up flies on the wall of his room (Conf., 10:35, 57). The bird flying to her nest, the fox creeping to his hole (Luke 9:58)--did these break into the prayers of Jesus--and with what effect? Was it in such hours that he learnt his deepest lessons from the birds and the lilies of the field? Why not? As he sat out in the wild under the open sky, did the stars never speak to him, as to Hebrew psalmist and Roman Virgil? When I consider thy heavens, the work of thy fingers. The moon and the stars which thou hast ordained; What is man, that thou art mindful of him? And the son of man, that thou visitest him? (Psalm 8:3-4.) It is a question men have to meet and face; and if we can trust Matthew's statement, an utterance of his in later years called out by the sneer of a Pharisee, shows how he had made the old poet's answer his own:-- Out of the mouths of babes and sucklings thou hast perfected praise (Matt. 21:16). If this were a solitary utterance of his thought upon Nature, it might be ranked with one or two pointed citations he made of the letter of the Old Testament; but it is safe, perhaps, to take it as one of many indications of his communion with God in Nature. The wind blowing in the night where it listed--must we authenticate every verse of the Fourth Gospel before we believe that he listened to it also and caught something? At any rate, in later years, when his friends are over-driven and weary, quiet and open-air in a desert place are what he prescribes for them and wishes to share with them--surely a hint of old experience (Mark 6:31). But now let us turn back to Nazareth, for, as the Gospel reminds us, there he grew up. "The city teaches the man," said the old Greek poet Simonides; and it does, as we see, and more than we sometimes realize. Jesus grew up in an Oriental town, in the middle of its life--a town with poor houses, bad smells, and worse stories, tragedies of widow and prodigal son, of unjust judge and grasping publican--yes, and comedies too. We know at once from general knowledge of Jewish life and custom, and from the recorded fact that he read the Scriptures, that he went to school; and we could guess, fairly safely, that he played with his school-fellows, even if he had not told us what the games were at which they played:-- At weddings and at funerals, As if his life's vocation Were endless imitation. Sometimes the children were sulky and would not play (Luke 7:32). How strange, and how delightful, that the great Gospel, full of God's word for mankind, should have a little corner in it for such reminiscences of children's games! We cannot suppose that he had access to many books, but he knew the Old Testament, well and familiarly--better and more aptly than some people expected. Traces of other books have been found in his teaching, not many and some of them doubtful. Generally one would conclude that, apart from the Old Testament, his education was not very bookish--he found it in home and shop, in the desert, on the road, and in the market-place. It is interesting to gather from the Gospel what Jesus says of the talk of men, and it is surprising to find how much it is, till we realize how very much in ancient times the city was the education, and the market-place the school, where some of the most abiding lessons were learnt. Is it not so still in the East? Here was a boy, however, who watched men and their words more closely than they guessed, on whose ears words fell, not as old coinages, but as new minting, with the marks of thought still rough and bright on them--indexes to the speaker. Proverbs of the market every people has of its own. "It is nought, it is nought, saith the buyer, but, after he is gone his way, then he boasteth." And the seller has all the variants of caveat emptor ready to retort. In antiquity, and in the East to-day, apart from machine-made things, we find the same uncertainty in most transactions as to the value of the article, the same eagerness of both seller and buyer to get at the supposed special knowledge of the other, and the same preliminary skirmish of proposal, protest, offer, refusal, and oath. Jesus stands by the stall, watching some small sale with the bright, earnest eyes which we find so often in the Gospels. The buyer swears "on his head" that he will not give more than so much; then, "by the altar" he won't get the thing. "By the earth" it isn't worth it; "by the heaven" the seller gave that for it. So the battle rages, and at last the bargain is struck. The buyer raises his price; the seller takes less than he gave for the thing; neither has believed the other, but each, as the keen eyes of the onlooker see, feels he has over-reached the other. Heaven has been invoked--and what is Heaven? As the words fell on the listener's ears, he saw the throne of God, and on it One before whose face Heaven itself and earth will flee away--and be brought back again for judgement. And by Heaven, and by Him who sits on the Throne, men will swear falsely for an "anna" or two. How can they? It is because "nothings grow something"; the words make a mist about the thing. In later days Jesus told his followers to swear not at all--to stick to Yes and No. Then a leader in the religious world passes, and the loiterers have a new interest for the moment. "Rabbi, Rabbi," they say, and the great man moves onward, obviously pleased with the greeting in the marketplace (Matt. 23:7). As soon as he is out of hearing, it is no longer "Rabbi" he is called; talk turns to another tune. How little the fine word meant! How lightly the title was given! Worse still, the title will stand between a man and the facts of life. Some will use it to deceive him; others, impressed by it, are silent in his presence; one way and another, the facts are kept from him. Seeing, he sees not, and he comes to live in an unreal world. How many men to-day will say what they really think before a man in clerical dress, or a dignitary however trivial? "Be not ye called 'Rabbi,'" was the counsel Jesus gave to his followers, and he would accept neither "Rabbi," nor "Good Master," nor any other title till he saw how much it meant. "Master!" they said, "we know that thou art true, and teachest the way of God in truth, neither carest thou for any man; for thou regardest not the person of men" (Matt. 22:16). But as the evangelist continues, Jesus "perceived their wickedness"--he had heard such things before and was not trapped. "Hosanna in the highest!" (Mark 11:10)--strange to think of the quiet figure, riding in the midst of the excited crowd, open-eyed and undeceived in his hour of "triumph"--as little perturbed, too, when his name is cast out as evil. How little men's praise and their blame matter, when your eyes are fixed on God--when you have Him and His facts to be your inspiration! On the other hand, when you have not contact with God, how much men's talk counts, and how easy it is to lose all sense of fact! By and by the talk veers round to what Pilate had done one to the Galileans--if the dates fit, or if for the moment we can make them fit, or anticipate once for all, and be done with the bazaar talk which never stopped. Pilate had killed the Galileans when they went up to Jerusalem--yes! mingled their own blood, you might say, with the blood of their sacrifices (Luke 13:1). What would he do next? There was no telling. What was needed--some time--it was bound to come--and the voice sank--a Theudas, or a Judas again (Acts 5:36, 37)--it would not be surprising. ... There were no newspapers, no approved and reliable sources of news such as we boast to have from our governments and millionaires; all was rumour, bazaar talk--"Lo! here!" and "Lo! there!" (Mark 13:21). "Prohibiti sermones ideoque plures", said Tacitus of Rome--rumours were forbidden, so there were more of them. The Messiah _must_ come some time, said one man who might be a friend of the Zealots. In any case, reflected another, those Galileans had probably angered Heaven and got their deserts; ill luck like that could hardly come by accident; think of the tower that fell at Siloam--anybody could see there was a judgement in it. Might it not be said that God had discredited John the Baptist, now his head was taken off? So men speculated (cf. John 9:2). Jesus saw through all this, and was radiantly clear about it. So they chattered, and he heard. Then the talk took another turn, and tales were told--bad eyes flashed and lips smacked, as one story-teller eclipsed the other in the familiar vein. The Arabian Nights are tales of the crowd, it is said, rather than literature in their origin, and will give clues enough to what might be told. Jesus heard, and he saw what it meant; and afterwards he told his friends: "From within, out of the heart of men, proceed evil thoughts, adulteries, fornications, murders ... foolishness; all these evil things come from within, and defile the man" (Mark 7:21-23). The evil thought takes shape to find utterance, and gains thereby a new vitality, a new power for evil, and may haunt both speaker and listener for ever with its defiling memory. By and by he intervened and spoke himself. Every one was shocked, and said, "Blasphemy!" They were not used to think of God as he did, and it seemed improper. Then the whole question of human speech rises for him. What did they mean by their words? What could their minds be like? God dragged in and flung about like a counter, in a game of barter--but if you speak real meaning about God it is blasphemy. "Rabbi, Rabbi" to the great man's face--he turns his back--and his name is smirched for ever by a witty improvisation. Why? Why should men do such things? The magic in the idle tale--ten minutes, and the memory is stained for ever with what not one of them would forget, however he might wish to try to forget. The words are loose and idle, careless, flung out without purpose but to pass the moment--and they live for ever and work mischief. How can they be so light and yet have such power? Later on he told his friends what he had seen in this matter of words. They come from within, and the speaker's whole personality, false or true, is behind what he says--the good or bad treasure of his heart. There are no grapes growing on the bramble bush. No wonder that of every idle word men shall give account on the day of Judgement (Matt. 12:36). The idle word--the word unstudied--comes straight from the inmost man, the spontaneous overflow from the spirit within, natural and inevitable, proof of his quality; and they react with the life that brought them forth.[13] So he grows up--in a real world and among real people. He goes to school with the boys of his own age, and lives at home with mother and brothers and sisters. He reads the Old Testament, and forms a habit of going to the Synagogue (Luke 4:16). All points to a home where religion was real. The first word he learnt to say was probably "Abba", and it struck the keynote of his thoughts. But he knew the world without as well,--turned on to it early the keen eyes that saw all, and he recognized what he saw. Knowledge of men, but without cynicism, a loving heart still in spite of his freedom from illusions--these are among the gifts that his environment gave him, or failed to take away from him. CHAPTER III THE MAN AND HIS MIND It is a commonplace with those who take literature seriously that what is to reach the heart must come from the heart; and the maxim may be applied conversely--that what has reached a heart has come from a heart--that what continues to reach the heart, among strange peoples, in distant lands, after long ages, has come from a heart of no common make. The Anglo-Saxon boy is at home in the Odyssey; and when he is a man--if he has the luck to be guided into classical paths--he finds himself in the Aeneid; and from this certain things are deduced about the makers of those poems--that they knew life, looked on it with bright, keen eyes, loved it, and lived it over again as they shaped it into verse. When we turn to the first three Gospels, we find the same thing. Here are books with a more worldwide range than Homer or Virgil, translated again and again from the first century of their existence on to the latest--and then more than ever--into all sorts of tongues, to reach men all over the globe; and that purpose they have achieved. They have done it not so much for the literary graces of the translators or even of the original authors, though in one case these are more considerable than is sometimes allowed. That the Gospels owe their appeal to the recorded sayings and doings of our Lord, is our natural way of putting it to-day; but if for "our Lord" we put a plainer description, more congenial to the day in which the Gospels were written, we shall be in a better position to realize the significance of the worldwide appeal of his words. Thus and thus, then, spoke a mere provincial, a Jew who, though far less conspicuous and interesting, came from the region of Meleager and Philodemos--not from their town of Gadara, nor possibly from their district, but from some place not so very far away. It was not to be expected that he should win the hearts of men as he did. He had not the Greek culture of the two Gadarenes. Celsus even found his style of speech rather vulgar. But he has, as a matter of common knowledge--so common as hardly to be noted--won the hearts of men in every race and every land. The fact is familiar, but we have as historians and critics to look for the explanation. What has been his appeal? And what the heart and nature, from which came this incredible power and reach of appeal? "Out of the abundance (the overflow) of the heart the mouth speaketh," he said. (Matt. 12:34). This he amplified, as we have seen, by his insistence on the weight of every idle word (Matt. 12:36)--the unstudied and spontaneous expression or ejaculation--the reflex, in modern phrase--which gives the real clue to the man's inner nature and deeper mind, which "justifies" him, therefore, or "condemns" him (Matt. 12:37). The overflow of the heart, he holds, shows more decisively than anything else the quality of the spring in its depths. Here is a suggestion which we find true in ordinary life as well as in the study of literature. If we turn it back upon its author, he at least will not complain, and we shall perhaps gain a new sense of his significance by approaching him at a new angle, from an outlook not perhaps much frequented. How did he come to speak in this manner, to say this and that? To what feeling or thought, to what attitude to life, is this or the other saying due? If he, too, spoke "out of the overflow of his heart"--and we can believe it when we think of the freshness and spontaneity with which he spoke--of what nature and of what depth was that heart? We can very well believe that much in his speech that was unforgettable to others, he forgot himself. They remembered, they could not help remembering, what he said; but he--no! he said it and moved on, keeping no register of his sayings; and so much the more natural and characteristic they are. Nor would he, like smaller people, be very careful of the form and turn of his speech; it was never set. Certainly he gave his followers the rule not to study their language (Mark 13:11). Whether or no he had consciously thought it all out; we can see the value of his rule, and how it fits in with his way of life and safeguards it. Under such a rule speech will not be stereotyped; no set form of words will impose itself on the free movement of thought, the mind can and will move of itself unhampered; and when the mind keeps and develops such freedom of movement, it commonly breaks new ground and handles new things. Not to be careful of our speech means for most of us slovenly thinking; but when a man thinks in earnest and takes truth seriously, when he speaks with his eye on his object, his language will not be slovenly, his instinct for fact will keep his speech pure and true. This is what we find in the sayings of Jesus; there is form, but living form, the freedom and grace which the clear mind and the friendly eye communicate insensibly and inimitably to language. Our task in this chapter is primarily a historical one. From the words of Jesus we have to work back to the type of mind from which they come. There is always danger in such a task. We may forget the wide and living variety of the mind we study; our own minds may not be large enough, nor tender enough, not various, quick and sympathetic in such a degree as to apprehend what we find, to see what it means, and to relate it to itself, detail to whole. How much greater the danger here! While we analyse, we have to remember that the most correct analysis of features or characteristics may easily fail to give us a true idea of the face or the character which we analyse. The whole is more than the sum of its parts. The face and the character have an "integrity," a wholeness. The detail may be of immense value to us, studied as detail; but for the true view the detail, familiar as it may be to us, and dear to us, must be sunk in the general view. Especially is this true of great characters. The "reconstruction of a personality"--to borrow a phrase from some psychologists--is a very difficult matter, even when we are masters of our detail. There is a proportion, a perspective, a balance, a poise about a character--my terms may involve some mixture of metaphors, but if the mixture brings out the complexity and difficulty of our task, it will be justified. Above all there is life, and as a life deepens and widens, it grows complex, unintelligible, and wonderful. It is more so than ever in the case of Jesus. Yet we have to grapple with this great task, if we are to know him, even if here as elsewhere we realize quickly that the beginning of real knowledge is when we grasp how much we do not know, how much there is to know. Attempted in this spirit, a study of the mind of Jesus and his characteristics should help us forward to some further intimacy with him. The Gospels do not, like some biographies ancient and modern, give a place to the physical characteristics of Jesus. Suetonius in a very short sketch adds the personal aspect of the poet Horace, who, it is true, had led the way by such allusions (Epist. i. 4, 15-16), and tells us how Augustus said he was "a squat little pot" (sessilis obba). The "Acts of Thekla" in a similar way describe St. Paul's short figure with its suggestion of quickness. But the only personal traits of this sort that I recall in the New Testament are the eyes of Jesus and Paul's way of stretching out a hand when he spoke. In view of this reticence, it is rather remarkable how often the Gospels refer to Jesus "looking." He "looked round about on" the people in the Synagogue, and then--with some suggestion of a pause and silence while he looked, "he saith unto the man" (Mark 3:5). When Peter deprecated the Cross, we find the same; "when he had turned about and looked on his disciples, he rebuked Peter" (Mark 8:33). When the rich young ruler came so impulsively to him to ask him about eternal life, Jesus, "looking upon him, loved him"--and we touch there a certain reminiscence of eye-witnesses (Mark 10:21). There are other references of the same kind in the narratives--the look seems to come into the story naturally, without the writers noticing it. There must have been much else as familiar to his friends and companions. They must have known him as we know our friends--the inflections of his voice, his characteristic movements, the hang of his clothes, his step in the dark, and all such things. Did he speak quickly or slowly? or move his hand when he spoke? The teaching posture of Buddha's hand is stereotyped in his images. We are not told such things about Jesus, and guessing does not take us very far. Yet a stanza in one of the elegies written on the death of Sir Philip Sidney may be taken as a far-away likeness of a greater and more wonderful figure--and not lead us very far astray:-- A sweet, attractive kind of grace; The full assurance given by looks; Perpetual comfort in a face; The lineaments of Gospel books. If we are not explicitly told of such things by the evangelists, they are easily felt in the story. The "paradoxes," as we call them--a rather dull name for them--surely point to a face alive with intellect and gaiety. The way in which, for instance, the leper approaches him, implies the man's eyes fixed in close study on Jesus' face, and finding nothing there to check him and everything to bring him nearer (Mark 1:41). When Mark tells us that he greeted the Syro-Phoenician woman's sally about the little dogs eating the children's crumbs under the table with the reply, "For the sake of this saying of yours ...," we must assume some change of expression on such a face as that of Jesus (Mark 7:29). We read again and again of the interest men and women found in his preaching and teaching--how they hung on him to hear him, how they came in crowds, how on one occasion they drove him into a boat for a pulpit. It is only familiarity that has blinded us to the "charm" they found in his speech--"they marvelled at his words of charm" (Luke 4:22)--to the gaiety and playfulness that light up his lessons. For instance, there is a little-noticed phrase, that grows very delightful as we study it, in his words to the seventy disciples--"Into whatsoever house ye enter, first say, Peace to this house (the common "salaam" of the East); and if a son of peace be there, your peace shall rest upon it; if not, your "salaam" will come back to _you_" (Luke 10:6). "A son of peace"--not _the_ son of peace--what a beautiful expression; what a beautiful idea too, that the unheeded Peace! comes back and blesses the heart that wished it, as if courteous and kind words never went unrewarded! Think again of "Solomon in all his glory" (Matt. 6:29)--before the phrase was hackneyed by common quotation. Do not such words reveal nature? A more elaborate and more amusing episode is that of the Pharisee's drinking operations. We are shown the man polishing his cup, elaborately and carefully; for he lays great importance on the cleanness of his cup; but he forgets to clean the inside. Most people drink from the inside, but the Pharisee forgot it, dirty as it was, and left it untouched. Then he sets about straining what he is going to drink--another elaborate process; he holds a piece of muslin over the cup and pours with care; he pauses--he sees a mosquito; he has caught it in time and flicks it away; he is safe and he will not swallow it. And then, adds Jesus, he swallowed a camel. How many of us have ever pictured the process, and the series of sensations, as the long hairy neck slid down the throat of the Pharisee--all that amplitude of loose-hung anatomy--the hump--two humps--both of them slid down--and he never noticed--and the legs--all of them--with whole outfit of knees and big padded feet. The Pharisee swallowed a camel--and never noticed it (Matt. 23:24, 25). It is the mixture of sheer realism with absurdity that makes the irony and gives it its force. Did no one smile as the story was told? Did no one see the scene pictured with his own mind's eye--no one grasp the humour and the irony with delight? Could any one, on the other hand, forget it? A modern teacher would have said, in our jargon, that the Pharisee had no sense of proportion--and no one would have thought the remark worth remembering. But Jesus' treatment of the subject reveals his own mind in quite a number of aspects. When he bade turn the other cheek--that sentence which Celsus found so vulgar--did no one smile, then, at the idea of anybody ever dreaming of such an act (Matt. 5:39)? Nor at the picture of the kind brother taking a mote from his brother's eye, with a whole baulk of timber in his own (Matt. 7:5)? Nor at the suggestion of doing two miles of forced labour when only one was demanded (Matt. 5:41)? Nor when he suggested that anxiety about food and clothing was a mark of the Gentiles (Matt. 6:32)? Did none of his disciples mark a touch of irony when he said that among the Gentile dynasties the kings who exercise authority are called "Benefactors" (Luke 22:25)? It was true; Euergetes is a well-known kingly title, but the explanation that it was the reward for strenuous use of monarchic authority was new. Are we to think his face gave no sign of what he was doing? Was there no smile? We are told by his biographer that Marcus Aurelius had a face that never changed--for joy or sorrow, "being an adherent," he adds, "of the Stoic philosophy." The pose of superiority to emotion was not uncommonly held in those times to be the mark of a sage--Horace's "nil admirari". The writers of the Gospels do not conceal that Jesus had feelings, and expressed them. We read how he "rejoiced in spirit" (Luke 10:21)--how he "sighed" (Mark 7:34) and "sighed deeply" (Mark 8:12)--how his look showed "anger" (Mark 3:5). They tell us of his indignant utterances (Matt. 23:14; Mark 11:17)--of his quick sensitiveness to a purposeful touch (Mark 5:30)--of his fatigue (Mark 7:24; Luke 8:23)--of his instant response, as we have just seen, to contact with such interesting spirits as the Syro-Phoenician woman and the rich young ruler. Above all, we find him again and again "moved with compassion." We saw the leper approach him, with eyes fixed on the face of Jesus. The man's appeal--"If thou wilt thou canst make me clean"--his misery moves Jesus; he reaches out his hand, and, with no thought for contagion or danger, he touches the leper--so deep was the wave of pity that swept through him--and he heals the man (Mark 1:40-42). It would almost seem as if the touching impressed the spectators as much as the healing. Compassion is an old-fashioned word, and sympathy has a wide range of suggestions, some of them by now a little cold; we have to realize, if we can, how deeply and genuinely Jesus felt with men, how keen his feeling was for their suffering and for their hunger, and at the same moment reflect how strong and solid a nature it is that is so profoundly moved. Again, when we read of his happy way in dealing with children, are we to draw no inference as to his face, and what it told the children? Finally, on this part of our subject, we are given glimpses of his dark hours. The writer to the Hebrews speaks of his "offering up prayers and supplications with strong crying and tears" and "learning obedience by the things that he suffered" (Heb. 5:7, 8), and Luke, perhaps dealing with the same occasion, says he was "in agony" (Luke 22:44), a strong phrase from a man of medical training. Luke again, with the other evangelists, refers to the temptations of Jesus, and in a later passage records the poignant and revealing sentence--"Ye are they that have continued with me in my temptations" (Luke 22:28). Finally, there is the last cry upon the Cross (Mark 15:37). So frankly, and yet so unobtrusively, they lay bare his soul, as far as they saw it. From what is given us it is possible to go further and see something of his habits of mind. His thought will occupy us in later chapters; here we are concerned rather with the way in which his mind moves, and the characteristics of his thinking. First of all, we note a certain swiftness, a quick realization of a situation, a character, or the meaning of a word. Men try to trap him with a question, and he instantly "recognizes their trickery" (Luke 20:23). When they ask for a sign, he is as quick to see what they have in mind (Mark 8:11-13). He catches the word whispered to Jairus--half hears, half divines it, in an instant (Mark 5:36). He is surprised at slowness of mind in other men (Matt. 15:16; Mark 8:21). And in other things he is as quick--he sees "the kingdoms of this world in a moment of time" (Luke 4:5); he beholds "Satan fallen (aorist participle) from heaven like lightning" (Luke 10:18)--two very striking passages, which illuminate his mind for us in a very important phase of it. We ought to have been able to guess without them that he saw things instantly and in a flash--that they stood out for him in outline and colour and movement there and then. That is plain in the parables from nature, and here it is confirmed. Is there in all his parables a blurred picture, the edges dim or the focus wrong? The tone of the parables is due largely to this gift of visualizing, to use an ugly modern word, and of doing it with swiftness and precision. Several things combine to make this faculty, or at least go along with it--a combination not very common even among men of genius--an unusual sense of fact, a very keen and vivid sympathy, and a gift of bringing imagination to bear on the fact in the moment of its discovery, and afterwards in his treatment of the fact. On his sense of fact we have touched before, in dealing with his close observation of Nature. It is an observation that needs no note-book, that is hardly conscious of itself. There is, as we know, a happy type of person who sees almost without looking, certainly without noticing--and sees aright too. The temperament is described by Wordsworth in the opening books of "The Prelude". The poet type seems to lose so much and yet constantly surprises us by what it has captured, and sometimes hardly itself realizes how much has been done. The gains are not registered, but they are real and they are never lost, and come flashing out all unexpectedly when the note is struck that calls them. So one feels it was with Jesus' intimate knowledge of Nature--it is not the knowledge of botanist or naturalist, but that of the inmate and the companion, who by long intimacy comes to know far more than he dreams. "Wise master mariners," wrote the Greek poet, Pindar, long before, "know the wind that shall blow on the third day, and are not wrecked for headlong greed of gain." They know the weather, as we say, by instinct; and instinct is the outcome of intimacy, of observation accurate but sub-conscious. It chimes in with this instinct for fact, that Jesus should lay so much emphasis on truth of word and truth of thought. Any hypocrisy is a leaven (Matt. 16:19; Luke 12:1); any system of two standards of truth spoils the mind (Matt. 5:33-37). The divided mind fails because it is not for one thing or the other. If it is impossible to serve God and mammon, truth and God go together in one allegiance; and a non-Theocentric element in a man's thought will be fatal sooner or later to any aptitude he has by nature for God and truth. We find this illustrated in Jesus' own case. At the heart of his instinct for fact is his instinct for God. He goes to the permanent and eternal at once in his quest of fact, because his instinct for God is so sure and so compelling. Bishop Phillips Brooks noted in Jesus' conversation "a constant progress from the arbitrary and special to the essential and universal forms of thought," "a true freedom from fastidiousness," "a singular largeness" in his intellectual life. The small question is answered in the larger--"the life is more than meat and the body is more than raiment" (Luke 12:23). When he is challenged on divorce, he goes past Moses to God (Matt. 19:4)--"He which made them at the beginning made them male and female." Every question is settled for him by reference to God, and to God's principles of action and to God's laws and commands; and God, as we shall see in a later chapter, is not for him a conception borrowed from others, a quotation from a book. God is real, living, and personal; and all his teaching is directed to drive his disciples into the real; he insists on the open mind, the study of fact, the fresh, keen eye turned on the actual doings of God. When life and thought have such a centre, a simplicity and an integrity follow beyond what we might readily guess. "When thine eye is single, thy whole body also is full of light, ... if thy whole body therefore be full of light, having no part dark, the whole shall be full of light, as when the bright shining of a candle doth give thee light" (Luke 11:34-36). It is this fullness of light that we find in Jesus; and as the light plays on one object and another, how clear and simple everything grows! All round about him was subtlety, cleverness, fastidiousness. His speech is lucid, drives straight to the centre, to the principle, and is intelligible. We may not see how far his word carries us, but it is abundantly plain that simple and straightforward people do understand Jesus--not all at once, but sufficiently for the moment, and with a sense that there is more beyond. His thought is uncomplicated by distinctions due to tradition and its accidents. His whole attitude to life is simple--he has no taboos; he comes "eating and drinking" (Matt. 11:19); and he told his followers, when he sent them out to preach, to eat what they were given (Luke 10:7); "give alms," he says, "of such things as ye have; and, behold, all things are clean unto you" (Luke 11:41). If God gives the food, it will probably be clean; and the old taboos will be mere tradition of men. He is not interested in what men call "signs," in the exceptional thing; the ordinary suffices when one sees God in it. One of Jesus' great lessons is to get men to look for God in the commonplace things of which God makes so many, as if Abraham Lincoln were right and God did make so many common people, because he likes them best. The commonest flowers--God thinks them out, says Jesus, and takes care of them (Matt. 6:28-30). Hence there is little need of special machinery for contact with God--priesthoods, trances, visions, or mystical states--abnormal means for contact with the normal. When Jesus speaks of the very highest and holiest things, he is as simple and natural as when he is making a table in the carpenter-shop. Sense and sanity are the marks of his religion. "Sense of fact" is a phrase which does not exclude--perhaps it even suggests--some hint of dullness. The matter-of-fact people are valuable in their way, but rarely illuminative, and it is because they lack the imagination that means sympathy. Now in Jesus' case there is a quickness and vividness of sympathy--he likes the birds and flowers and beasts he uses as illustrations. They are not the "natural objects" with which dull people try to brighten their pages and discourses. They are happy living things that come to his mind, as it were, of themselves, because, shall we say? they know they will be welcome there; and they are welcome. His pity and sympathy are unlike ours in having so much more intelligence and fellow-feeling in them. He understands men and women, as his gift of bright and winning speech shows. After all, as Carlyle has pointed out in many places, it is this gift of tenderness and understanding, of sympathy, that gives the measure of our intellects.[14] It is the faculty by which men touch fact and master it. It is the want of it that makes so many clever and ingenious people so futile and distressing. The sense of fact and the gift for sympathy and the foundations, so to speak, of the imagination which gives their quality to the stories and pictures of Jesus. He thinks in pictures, as it were; they fill his speech, and every one of them is alive and real. Think, for example, of the Light of the world (Matt. 5:14), the strait gate and the narrow way (Matt. 7:14), the pictures of the bridegroom (Mark 2:19), sower (Matt. 13:3), pearl merchant (Matt. 13:45), and the men with the net (Matt. 13:47), the sheep among the wolves (Matt. 10:16), the woman sweeping the house (Luke 15:8), the debtor going to prison accompanied by his creditor and the officer with the judge's warrant (Luke 12:58), the shepherd separating his sheep from the goats (Matt. 25:32), the children playing in the market-place pretending to pipe or to mourn (Luke 7:32), the fall of the house (Matt. 7:27)--or the ironical pictures of the blind leading the blind straight for the ditch (Matt. 15:14), the vintagers taking their baskets to the bramble bushes (Matt. 7:16), the candle burning away brightly under the bushel (Matt. 5:15; Luke 11:33), the offering of pearls to the pigs (Matt. 7:6)--or his descriptions of what lay before himself as a cup and a baptism (Mark 10:38), and of his task as the setting fire to the world (Luke 12:49). There is a truthfulness and a living energy about all these pictures--not least about those touched with irony. There are, however, pictures less realistic and more imaginative--one or two of them, in the language of the fireside, quite "creepy." Here is a house--a neat, trim little house--and for the English reader there is of course a garden or a field round it, and a wood beyond. Out of the wood comes something--stealthily creeping up towards the house--something not easy to make out, but weary and travel-stained and dusty--and evil. A strange feeling comes over one as one watches--it is evil, one is certain of it. Nearer and nearer to the house it creeps--it is by the window--it rises to look in, and one shudders to think of those inside who suddenly see _that_ looking at them through the window. But there is no one there. Fatigue changes to triumph; caution is dropped; it goes and returns with seven worse than itself, and the last state of the place is worse than the first (Luke 11:24-26). Is this leaving the real? One critic will say it is, "No," says another man, in a graver tone and speaking slowly, "it's real enough; it's my story." But have we left the text too far? Then let us try another passage. Here is a funeral procession, a bier with a dead man laid out on it, "wrapped in a linen cloth" (Matt. 27:59), "bound hand and foot with grave-clothes" (John 11:44)--a common enough sight in the East; but who are they who are carrying him--those silent, awful figures, bound like him hand and foot, and wound with the same linen cloth, moving swiftly and steadily along with their burden? It is the dead burying the dead (Luke 9:60). Add to these the account of the three Temptations--stories in picture, which must come from Jesus himself, and illustrate another side of his experience. For to the mind that sees and thinks in pictures, temptation comes in pictures which the mind makes for itself, or has presented to it and at once lights up--pictures horrible and once seen hard to forget and to escape. No wonder he warns men against the pictures they paint themselves in their minds (Matt. 5:28; cf. Chapter VII, p. 154). Add also the other pictures of Satan fallen (Luke 10:18) and Satan pushing into God's presence with a demand for the disciples (Luke 22:31). Are we to call these "visions"--the word is ambiguous--or are they imaginative presentments of evil, as it thrusts itself on the soul, with all its allurements and all its ugliness? "Visions" in the sense that is associated with trance, we shall hardly call them. They are pictures showing his gift of imagination. Lastly, on this part of our subject, let us remind ourselves of the many parables and pictures and sayings which put God himself before us. Here is the bird's nest, and one little sparrow fallen to the ground--and God is there and he takes notice of it; he misses the little bird from the brood (Matt. 10:29; cf. Luke 12:6). Here again is quite another scene--the rich and middle-aged man, who has prospered in everything and is just completing his plans to retire from business, when he feels a tap on his shoulder and hears a voice speaking to him, and he turns and is face to face with God (Luke 12:20). And there are all the other stories of God's goodness and kindness and care; is not the very phrase "Our Father in heaven" a picture in itself, if we can manage to give the word the value which Jesus meant it to carry? When one studies the teaching of Jesus, and concentrates on what he draws us of God, God somehow becomes real and delightful, in a most wonderful way. With all these faculties brought to bear on all he thinks, and lucent in all he says, there is little wonder that men recognized another note in Jesus from that familiar in their usual teachers. Rabbi Eliezer of those times was praised as "a well-trough that loses not a drop of water." We all know that type of teacher--the tank-mind, full, no doubt, supplied by pipes, and ministering its gifts by pipe and tap, regulated, tiresome, and dead. "The water that I shall give him," days Jesus in the Fourth Gospel (John 4:14), "shall be in him a well of water springing up into everlasting life." The water metaphors of the New Testament are not of trough and tank. Jesus taught men--not from a reservoir of quotations, like a scribe or a Rabbi, "but as possessed of authority himself" (Matt. 7:29). Who gave him that authority? asked the priests (Matt. 21:23)? Who authorizes the living man to live? "All things are delivered unto me of my Father" (Matt. 11:27). "My words shall not pass away" (Mark 13:31). He has proved right; his words have not passed away. The great "Son of Fact," he went to fact, drove his disciples to fact, and (in the striking phrase of Cromwell) "spoke _things_." And we can see in the record again and again the traces of the mental habits and the natural language of one who habitually based himself on experience and on fact. Critics remark on his method of using the Old Testament and contrast it with contemporary ways. St. Paul, for instance, in the passage where he weighs the readings "seeds" and "seed" (Gal. 3:16), is plainly racking language to the destruction of its real sense; no one ever would have written "seeds" in that connexion; but in the style of the day he forces a singular into an utterly non-natural significance. St. Matthew in his first two chapters proves the events, which he describes, to have been prophesied by citing Old Testament passages--two of which conspicuously refer to entirely different matters, and do not mean at all what he suggests (Matt. 2:15, 23). The Hebrew with the Old Testament, like the Greek of those days with Homer, made what play he pleased; if the words fitted his fancy, he took them regardless of connexion or real meaning; if he was pressed for a defence, he would take refuge in allegory. A fashion was set for the Church which bore bad fruit. The Old Testament was emptied of meaning to fortify the Christian faith with "proof texts." When Jesus quotes the Old Testament, it is for other ends and with a clear, incisive sense of the prophet's meaning. "Go ye and learn what that meaneth, I will have mercy and not sacrifice" (Matt. 9:13 and 12:7, quoting Hosea 6:6). He not merely quotes Hosea, but it is plain that he has got at the very heart of the man and his message. Similarly when he reads Isaiah in the Synagogue at Nazareth (Luke 4:17), he lays hold of a great passage and brings out with emphasis its value and its promise. He touches the real, and no lapse of time makes his quotations look odd or quaint. When he is asked which is the first commandment of all, he at once, with what a modern writer calls "a brilliant flash of the highest genius," links a text in Deuteronomy with one in Leviticus--"Hear, O Israel; The Lord our God is one Lord, and thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy mind, and with all thy strength" (Deut. 6:4-5), and, he adds, "the second is like, namely this, Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself. There is none other commandment greater than these" (Levit. 19:18; Mark 12:29-31). Thus his instinct for God and his instinct for the essential carry him to the very centre and acme of Moses' law. At the same time he can use the Old Testament in an efficient way for dialectic, when an "argumentum ad hominem" best meets the case (Mark 7:6; Luke 20:37, 44). Going to fact directly and reading his Bible on his own account, he is the great pioneer of the Christian habit of mind. He is not idly called the Captain by the writer to the Hebrews (Heb. 2:10, 12:2). Authority and tradition only too readily assume control of human life; but a mind like that of Jesus, like that which he gave to his followers, will never be bound by authority and tradition. Moses is very well, but if God has higher ideas of marriage--what then? The Scribes and the Pharisees sit in Moses' seat (Matt. 23:2), but that does not make them equal to Moses; still less does it make their traditions of more importance than God's commandments (Mark 7:1-13). The Sabbath itself "was made for man, and not man for the Sabbath" (Mark 2:27). Where the habit of mind is thus set to fact, and life is based on God, on God's will and God's doings, it is not surprising that in the daily round there should be noted "sanity, reserve, composure, and steadiness." It may seem to be descending to a lower plane, but it is worthwhile to look for a moment at the sheer sense which Jesus can bring to bear on a situation. The Sabbath--is it lawful to heal on the Sabbath? Well, if a man's one sheep is in a pit on the Sabbath, what will he do? (Matt. 12:11), or will he refrain from leading his ox to the water on the Sabbath (Luke 13:15)? Such questions bring a theological problem into the atmosphere of sense--and it is better solved there. He is interrupted by a demand that he arbitrate between a man and his brother; and his reply is virtually, Does your brother accept your choice of an arbitrator? (Luke 12:14)--and that matter is finished. "Are there few that be saved?" asks some one in vague speculation, and he gets a practical answer addressed to himself (Luke 13:23). Even in matters of ordinary manners and good taste, he offers a shrewd rule (Luke 14:8). Luke records also two or three instances of perfectly banal talk and ejaculation addressed to him--the bazaar talk of the Galilean murders (Luke 13:1)--the pious if rather obvious remark of some man about feasting in the Kingdom of God (Luke 14:15)--and the woman's homey congratulation of Mary on her son (Luke 11:27). In each case he gets away to something serious. Above all, we must recognize the power which every one felt in him. Even Herod, judging by rumour, counts him greater than John the Baptist (Matt. 14:2). The very malignity of his enemies is a confession of their recognition that they are dealing with some one who is great. Men remarked his sedative and controlling influence over the disordered mind (Mark 1:27). He is not to be trapped in his talk, to be cajoled or flattered. There is greatness in his language--in his reference of everything to great principles and to God; greatness in his freedom from ambition, in his contempt of advertisement and popularity, in his appeal to the best in men, in his belief in men, in his power of winning and keeping friends, in his gift for making great men out of petty. In all this we are not stepping outside the Gospels nor borrowing from what he has done in nineteen centuries. In Galilee and in Jerusalem men felt his power. And finally, what of his calm, his sanity, his dignity, in the hour of betrayal, in the so-called trials, before the priests, before Pilate, on the Cross? The Pharisees, said Tertullian, ought to have recognized who Christ was by his patience. CHAPTER IV THE TEACHER AND HIS DISCIPLES It was as a teacher that Jesus of Nazareth first began to gather disciples round him. But to understand the work of the Teacher, we must have some general impression of the world to which he came. The background will help us understand what had to be done, and what it was he meant to do. Bishop Gore, in a book recently published, suggested that the belief that God is Love is not axiomatic. Many of us take it for granted, as the point at which religion naturally begins; but, as he emphasized, it is not an obvious truth; it is something of which we have to be convinced, something that has to be made good to men. Unless we bear this in mind, we shall miss a great deal of what Jesus has really done, by assuming that he was not needed to do it. "Out of a darker world than ours came this new spring." We must look at the world as it was, when Jesus came. In a later chapter we shall have to consider more fully the religions of the Roman world. One or two points may be anticipated. First of all, we have to realize what a hard world it was. Men and women are harder than we sometimes think, and the natural hardness to which the human heart grows of itself, needed more correction than it had in those days. Among the many papyrus documents that have been found in late years in Egypt--documents that have pictured for us the life of Egypt, and have recorded for us also the language of the New Testament in a most illuminative way--there is one that illustrates only too aptly the unconscious hardness of the times. It is a letter--no literary letter, no letter that any one would ordinarily have thought of keeping; it has survived by accident. It was written by an Egyptian Greek to his wife. She lived somewhere up the country, and he had gone to Alexandria. She had been expecting a baby when he left, and he wrote a rough, but not an unkind, letter to her. He writes: "Hilarion to Alis . . . greetings.... Know that we are still even now in Alexandria. Do not fidget, if, at the general return, I stay in Alexandria. I pray and beseech you, take care of the little child, and as soon as we have our wages, I will send you up something. If you are delivered, if it was a male, let it live; if it was a female, cast it out . . . . How can I forget you? So don't fidget."[15] The letter is not an unkind one; it is sympathetic, masculine, direct, and friendly. And then it ends with the suggestion, inconceivable to us to-day, that if the baby is a girl, it need not be kept. It can be put out either on the land or in the river, left to kite or crocodile. The evidence of satirists is generally to be discounted, because they tend to emphasize the exceptional; and it is not the exceptional thing that gives the character of an age, or of a man. It is the kind of thing that we take for granted and assume to be normal that shows our character or gives the note of the day; and what we omit to notice may be as revealing. In the plays of the Athenian comic poets of the third and fourth centuries B.C. we find, to wearisomeness, one recurring plot. The heroine turns out to be, not just a common girl, but the daughter of the best family in Athens, exposed when she was a baby. When Plato sketched his ideal constitution, in addition to the mating of suitable pairs to be decided by government, he added that, if the offspring were not good enough, it should be put away where it would not be found again. Aristotle allowed the same practice. The most cultured race on earth freely exposed its infants; and this letter of Hilarion to Alis--a dated letter by the way, of September or October in the year 1 A.D.--makes it clear that the practice of exposure of children still prevailed; and there is other evidence which need not now detain us. It is a hard world, where kind people or good people can think of such things as ordinary and natural. Evidence of the character of an age is given by the treatment of criminals; and that age was characterized by crucifixion. They would take a human being, spread him out on a cross on the ground, drive nails through his hands and feet; and then the cross was raised--the agony of the victim during the movement is not to be imagined. It was made fast; and there the victim hung, suspended between heaven and earth, to live or die at his leisure. By and by crows would gather round him. "I have been good," said the slave. "Then you have your reward," says the Latin poet, "you will not feed the crows on the cross."[16] There is a very striking phrase in St. Matthew: "And sitting down they watched him there" (Matt. 27:36). The soldiers nailed three men to crosses, and sat down beneath them to dice for their clothes. Our tolerances, like our utterances, come out of the abundance of the heart, and stamp us for what we are. We cannot easily realize all that slavery meant. When we read in the Fourth Gospel that "the Lamb of God taketh away the sin of the world" (John 1:29), that was written before Jesus Christ had abolished slavery; for, we remember, it was done by his people against the judgement of the business experts. Slavery meant robbing the man of every right that Nature gave him; and, as Homer said long ago, "Farseeing Zeus takes away half a man's manhood, when he brings the day of slavery upon him."[17] He became a thief, a liar, dirty, and bad; and with the woman it was still worse. The slave woman was a little lower than the animal; she might not have offspring. It was "natural," men said; "Nature had designed certain races to be slaves; slavery was written in Nature; it was Nature's law." These were not the thoughts of vulgar people, but of some of the best of the Greeks--not of all, indeed; but society was organized on the basis of slavery. It was an accepted axiom of all social and economic life. As to the spiritual background, for the present let us postpone the heathen world and consider the Jews, who represented in some ways the world's highest at this period. Modern scholarship is shedding fresh light on the literature and ideas that were prevalent between the end of the Old Testament and the beginning of the New. But what uncertainty about God! Why some people should think that it was easier to believe in God in those days than now, I do not see. Far less was known of God; the record of his doings was not so long as it is for us, and it was not so well known. No one could understand what God meant, if he was quite clear himself. Look at what he did with the nation. He chose Israel, he established the kingdom of David. They did not get on very well, and at last were carried away into Captivity in Babylon. So much he did for his people; and when he brought them back again to the Promised Land, it was to a very trying and difficult situation; and worse still followed after Nehemiah's day. Alexander the Great's conquest of the East left a Macedonian dynasty ruling those regions, and one of their great kings, Antiochus Epiphanes, tried to stamp out the religion of Jehovah altogether. The Book of Daniel is a record of that persecution about 166 B.C. The Maccabeean brothers delivered Israel, and rescued the religion of Jehovah; and a kingdom of a sort was established with them; but the grandsons of the liberators became tyrants. What did God mean? Out of all the promises to Israel, to the House of David, this is what comes. Herod follows--a foreign king and an Edomite; and the Romans are over all, suzerains and rulers. In despair of the present men began to forecast the future. A time will surely come, they said, when God will give an anointed one, the Messiah; he will set all Israel free, will make Israel rule the world instead of the Romans; he will gather together the scattered of Israel from the four winds, reunite and assemble God's people in triumph in Palestine. And then, when the prophet paused, a plain man spoke: "I don't care if he does. My father all his life looked forward to that. What does it matter now, if God redeems his people, or if he does not? My father is dead." The answer was, why should your father not come with the redeemed Israel? But what evidence is there for that? Does God care for people beyond the grave? Is there personal immortality?--that became the anxious question.[18] But is this kingdom of the Messiah to be an earthly or a heavenly kingdom? Will it be in Jerusalem or in heaven? Are you quite sure that there is any distinction in the other world between good and bad, between Jew and Gentile? Some people thought the kingdom would be in Jerusalem; others said it would be in heaven, and added that the Jews will look down and see the Gentiles in hell--something worth seeing at last. But, after all, it was still guesswork-- "perhaps" was the last word. When the question is asked, "Was Jesus the Messiah?" the obvious reply is, "Which Messiah?" For there seems to have been no standard idea of the Messiah. The Messiah was, on the whole, as vague a term as, in modern politics, Socialism or Tariff Reform. Neither of them has come; perhaps they never will come, and nobody knows what they will be till they do come. Jesus is not what they expected. A Jewish girl, at an American Student Conference a year or two ago, said about Jesus: "I do not think he is the Messiah, but I do love him." Of course he was not in her Jewish sense. The term was a vague one. The main point was that men were uncertain about God. God was unintelligible. They did not understand his ideas, either for the nation or for the individual; God's plans miscarried with such fatality. Or if he had some deeper design, it was still all guesswork. It seemed likely, or at least right, that he should achieve somehow the final damnation of the Gentiles--the Romans, and the rest of us--but nothing was very clear. In the meantime, if God was going to damn the Gentiles in the next world, why should not the Jews do it in this? Human nature has only too ready an answer for such a question--as we can read in too many dark pages of history, in the stories of wars and religious persecutions. The uncertainty about God in Judaism reacted on life and made it hard. Even the virtues of men were difficult; they were apt to be nerveless and uncertain, because their aim was uncertain, and they wanted inspiration. Of course there are always kindly hearts; but a man will never put forth quite his best for an uncertainty. There was a want of centre about their virtues, a want of faith, and as a result they were too largely self-directed.[19] A man was virtuous in order to secure himself in case God should be awkward. There was no sufficient relation between man and God. God was judge, no doubt; but his character could be known from his attitude to the Gentiles. Could a man count on God and how far? Could he rely on God supporting him, on God wishing to have him in this world and the next? No, not with any certainty. It comes to a fundamental unbelief in God, resting, as Jesus saw, on an essential misconception of God's nature; and this resulted in the spoiling of life. Men did not use God. "Where your treasure is, there will your heart be also," Jesus said (Luke 12:34); and it was not in God. Men's interest and belief were elsewhere. Now the first thing that Jesus had to do, as a teacher, was to induce men to rethink God. Men, he saw, do not want precepts; they do not want ethics, morals or rules; what they do need is to rethink God, to rediscover him, to re-explore him, to live on the basis of relation with God. There is one striking difference between Christianity and the other religions, in that the others start with the idea that God is known. Christians do not so start. We are still exploring God on the lines of Jesus Christ--rethinking God all the time, finding him out. That is what Jesus meant us to do. If Jesus had merely put before men an ethical code, that would have been to do what the moralists had done before him--what moralists always do, with the same naive idea that they are doing a great deal for us. His object was far more fundamental. The first thing was to bring people on to the very centre and to get there at once--to get men away from the accumulation of occasional and self-directed virtues, from the self-sustained life, from self-acquired righteousness, and to bring them to face the fact of God, to realize the seriousness of God and of life, and to see God. When he preached self-denial, he did not mean the modern virtue of self-denial with all its pettinesses, but a genuine negation of self, a total forgetfulness of self by having the mind set entirely on God and God's purposes, a readjustment of everything with God as the real centre of all. This is always difficult; it is not less difficult where the conception of God is, as it was with Jesus, entirely spiritual. The whole experience of mankind was against the idea that there could be a religion at all without priest, sacrifice, altar, temple, and the like. There is a very minimum of symbol and cult in the teaching of Jesus--so little that the ancient world thought the Christians were atheists, because they had no image, no temple, no sacrifice, no ritual, nothing that suggested religion in the ordinary sense of the word. We shall realize the difficulty of what Jesus was doing when we grasp that he meant people to see God independently of all their conventional aids. To lead them to commit themselves in act to God on such terms was a still more difficult thing. To believe in God in a general sort of way, to believe in Providence at large, is a very different thing from getting yourself crucified in the faith that God cares for you, and yet somehow wishes you to endure crucifixion. How far will men commit themselves to God? Jesus means them to commit themselves to God right up to the hilt--as Bunyan put it, "to hazard all for God at a clap." Decision for God, obedience to God, that is the prime thing--action on the basis of God and of God's care for the individual. His purpose that this shall not be merely the religion of choice spirits or of those immediately around him, but shall be the one religion of all the world, makes the task still vaster. He means not merely to touch the Jews. Whether he says so in explicit terms or not, it is implied in all that he says and does, that the new movement should be far wider than anything the world had ever seen; it was to cover the whole of mankind. He meant that every individual in all the world should have the centre of gravity of his thinking shifted. Again, he had to think of a re-creation of the language of men, till God should be a new word. Our constant problem is to give his word his value, his meaning. He meant that men should learn their religious vocabulary again, till the words they used should suggest his meanings to their minds. Something of this was achieved, when some of his disciples came to him and said: "Teach us to pray, as John also taught his disciples" (Luke 11:1). Further, he had to secure that men should begin the rethinking of all life--personal, social, and national--from the very foundations, on new lines--what is called a transvaluation of all values. With a new centre, everything has to be thought out anew into what St. Paul calls the fullness of Christ (Eph. 4:13). Then finally the question comes, how to secure continuity? Will the movement outlast his personal influence? These are his problems--large enough, every one of them. How does he face them? The Gospel began with friendship, and we know from common life what that is, and how it works. Old acquaintance and intimacy are the heart of it. The mind is on the alert when we meet the stranger--quick and eager to master his outlook and his ways of thought, to see who and what he is--it is critical, self-protective, rather than receptive. But, as time goes on, we notice less, we study the man less as we see more of him. Yet, in this easier and more careless intercourse, when the mind is off guard, it is receiving a host of unnoticed impressions, which in the long run may have extraordinary influence. Pleasant and easy-going, a perpetual source of interest and rest of mind, the friendship continues, till we find to our surprise that we are changed. Stage by stage, as one comes to know one's friend, by unconscious and freely given sympathy, one lives the other man's life, sees and feels things as he does, slips into his language, and, by degrees, into his thoughts--and then wakes up to find oneself, as it were, remade by the other's personality, so close has been the identification with the man we grew to love. This is what we find in our own lives; and we find it in the Gospels. A sentence from St. Augustine's Confessions gives us the key to the whole story. "Sed ex amante alio accenditur alius" ("Confessions", iv. 14, 911). "One loving spirit sets another on fire." Jesus brings men to the new exploration of God, to the new commitment of themselves to God, simply by the ordinary mechanism of friendship and love. This, in plain English, is after all the idea of Incarnation--friendship and identification. Jesus has a genius for friendship, a gift for understanding the feelings of men. Look, for example, at the quick word to Jairus. As soon as the message comes to him that his daughter is dead, Jesus wheels round on him at once with a word of courage (Mark 5:36). This quickness in understanding, in feeling with people, marks him throughout. An instinctive care for other people's small necessities is a great mark of friendship, and Jesus has it. We find him saying to his disciples: "Come ye yourselves apart privately into a desert place, and rest awhile" (Mark 6:31). What a beautiful suggestion! He himself, it is clear from the records, felt the need of privacy, of being by oneself, of quiet; and he took his quiet hours in the open, in the wild, where there was solitude and Nature, and there he would take his friends. There were so many coming and going, that they had no leisure to eat, and Jesus says to them in his friendly way: "Let us get out of this--away by ourselves, to a quiet place; what you want is rest." What a beautiful idea!--to go camping out on the hillside, under the trees, to rest--and with him to share the quiet of the lonely place. It is not the only time when he offers to give people rest--"Come unto Me ... and I will give you rest" (Matt. 11:28). How strange, when one thinks of the restless activity of Christian people to-day, with typewriters and conventions, and every modern method of consuming energy and time! How sympathetic he is! We may notice again his respect for the reserve of other people. On the whole, how slowly Jesus comes to work with men! He never "rushes" the human spirit; he respects men's personalities. Men and women are never pawns with him. He does not think of them in masses. The masses appeal to him, but that is because he sees the individual all the time. To one of his disciples he says, "I have prayed for thee" (Luke 22:32). What a contrast to the conventional "friend of man" in the abstract! With all that hangs upon him, he has leisure to pray intensely, for a single man. It gives us an idea of his gifts in friendship. His faith in his people is quite remarkable, when we think of it. He believes in his followers; he shares with them some of the deepest things in his life; he counts them fit to share his thought of God. He makes it quite clear to them how he trusts them. He puts before them the tremendous work that he has to do--work more appalling in its vastness the more one studies it; and then he tells them that he is trusting the whole thing with them. What a faith it implies in their moral capacity! What acceptance of the dim beginnings of the character that was to be Christian! Someone has spoken of his "apparently unjustified faith in Peter." What names he can give to his friends as a result of this faith in them! "Ye are the light of the world," he says (Matt. 5:14), "the salt of the earth." When we remind ourselves of his clear vision, his genius for seeing fact, how much must such praises have meant to these men! Think how he gives himself to them in earnest; how he is at their disposal. He is theirs; they can cross-question him at leisure; they tell him that the Pharisees did not like what he said (Matt. 15:12), they doubt with Peter the wisdom of his open speech (Mark 8:32); they criticize him (Matt. 13:10). If they do not understand his parable, they ask what he means (Matt. 15:15) and keep on asking till he makes it plain. He is in no hurry. He is the Master and their Teacher, and he is at the service of the slowest of them. But there is another side to friendship; for one great part of it is taking what our friends do for us, as well as doing things for them. How he will take what they have to give! He lets them manage the boat, while he sleeps (Mark 4:38), and go and prepare for him (Luke 9:52), and see to the Passover meal (Mark 14:13). The women, we read, ministered to him of their substance (Luke 8:3). There is a very significant phrase in St. Luke (22:28), where he says to them at the end: "Ye are they that have continued with me in my temptations." He tells them there that they have helped him. How? Apparently by being with him. Is not that friendship? In the same chapter (Luke 22:15) we find an utterance that reveals the depth of his feeling for his friends: "With desire I have desired (a Greek rendering of a Semitic intensive) to eat this Passover with you before I suffer." They are to help him again by being with him, and he has longed for it, he says. The Gospel of John sums up the whole story in a beautiful sentence: "Jesus, having loved his own which were in the world, loved them unto the end" (John 13:1). Augustine is right. "One loving spirit sets another on fire." Note again the word which he uses in speaking to them ("Tekna": Mark 2:5, 10:24). It is a diminutive, a little disguised as "children" in our English version. It reappears in the Fourth Gospel in even more diminutive forms ("Teknia", 13:33; Paidia, 21:5) with a peculiarly tender suggestion. The word of Mark answers more closely than anything I know to "Boys," as we used it in the Canadian Universities. "Men," or "Undergraduates," is the word in the English Universities; "Students," in Scotland and in India; in Canada we said "Boys"; and I think we get nearer, and like one another better, with that easy name. And it was this friendly, pleasant word, or one very like it, that he used with them. Nor is it the only one of the kind. "Fear not, little flock!" he said (Luke 12:32). Do not the diminutives mean something? Do they not take us into the midst of a group where friendship is real? And in the centre is the friendliest figure of all. Look for a moment at the men who followed him; at the type he calls. They are simple people in the main--warm hearts and impulsive natures. The politics of Simon the Zealot might at one time have been summed up as "the knife and plenty of it," a simple and direct enough type of political thought, in all conscience, however hopeless and ineffectual, as history showed; but he gave up his politics for the friendship of Jesus. Peter, again, is the champion example of the impulsive nature. Why Jesus called James and John "the sons of thunder" (Mark 3:17) I am not sure. Dr. Rendel Harris thinks because they were twins; other people find something of the thunderstorm in their ideas and outlook. The publican in the group is of much the same type; he is ready to leave his business and his custom-house at a word--once more the impulsive nature and the simple. It is possible that Jesus looked also to another type of which he gained very little in his lifetime; for he speaks of "the scribe who has turned disciple again, and brings out of his treasure things new and old" (Matt. 13:52)--the more complicated type of the trained scholar, full of old learning, but open to new views. In the meantime he draws to him people with the warm heart--yes, he says, but cultivate the cool head (cf. Matt. 10:16). Again and again he will have men "count the cost" (Luke 14:28)--know what they are doing, be rid of delusions before they follow him (Mark 8:34). What did they expect? They had all sorts of dreams of the future. When we first find them, there is friction among them, which is not unnatural in a group of men with ambitions (Mark 9:33. 10:37). Even at the Last Supper their minds run on thrones (Luke 22:24). They are haunted by taboos. Peter long after boasts that nothing common or unclean has entered his lips (Acts 10:14). They fail to understand him. "Are ye also without understanding?" he asks, not without surprise (Mark 8:17, 21). At the very end they run away. There, then, is the group. What is to be the method? There is not much method. As Harnack says about the spread of the early Church, "A living faith needs no special methods"--a sentence worth remembering. "Infinite love in ordinary intercourse" is another phrase of Harnack in describing the life of the early Church. It began with Jesus. He chose twelve, says Mark (3:14), "that they may be with him." That is all. And they are with him under all sorts of circumstances. "The Son of Man hath not where to lay his head" (Luke 9:58). They saw him in privation, fatigued, exhausted. With every chance to see weaknesses in his character, they did not find much amiss with him. That is surely significant. They lived with him all the time, in a genuine human friendship, a real and progressive intimacy. They were with him in popularity and in unpopularity; they were with him in danger, when Herod tried to kill him and he went out of Herod's territory. But friendship depends not only on great moments; it means companionship in the trivial, too, it means idle hours together, partnership in commonplace things--meals and garden--chairs as well as books and crises. Ordinary life, ordinary talk, gossip, chat, every kind of conversation about Herods and Roman governors, and the Zealots--custom-house memories, tales of the fishermen's life on the lake, stories of neighbours and home--rumours about the Galileans who were murdered by Pilate (Luke 13:1-4)--all the babbling talk of the bazaar is round Jesus and his group, and some of it breaks in on them; and his attitude to it all is to these men a constant revelation of character. They are with him in the play of feelings, with him in the fluxes and refluxes of his thought--learning his ways of mind without realizing it. They slip into his mind and mood, by a series of surprises, when they are imagining no such thing. Anything, everything serves to reveal him. They tramp all day, and ask some village people to shelter them for the night. The villagers tell them to go away. The men are hungry and fatigued. "What a splendid thing it would be, if we could do like Elijah and burn them up with a word!" So the hot thought rose. He turned and said, "You know not what manner of spirit you are of."--What a gentle rebuke! "The Son of Man is not come to destroy men's lives, but to save them" (Luke 9:51-56). Then follows one of the wonderful sentences of the Gospel, "they went unto another village"--very obvious, but very significant. A missionary from China told me how, thirty years ago or more, he was driven out of the town where he lived; how the gentlefolk egged on the mob, and they wrecked his house, and hounded him out of the place. He told me how it felt--the misery and the indignity of it. Jesus took it undisturbed. He taught a lesson in it which the Church has never forgotten. Their life was full of experiences shared with him. He has his reserve--his secret; yet, in another sense, he gives himself to them without reserve; there is prodigality of self-impartation in his dealings with them. He lets them have everything they can take. He becomes theirs in a great intimacy, he gives himself to them. Why? Because he believes, as he put it, in seed. Socrates saw that the teacher's real work, his only work, is to implant the idea, like a seed; an idea, like a seed, will look after itself. A king builds a temple or a palace. The seed of a banyan drifts into a crack, and grows without asking anyone's leave; there is life in it. In the end the building comes down, but for what the banyan holds up. The leaven in the meal is the most powerful thing there. There is very little of it, but that does not matter; it is alive (Matt. 13:33). Life is a very little thing but it is the only thing that counts. That is why the farmer can sow his fields and sleep at nights without thinking of them; and the crop grows in spite of his sleeping, and he knows it (Mark 4:26). That is why Jesus believes so thoroughly in his men, and in his message; God has made the one for the other, and there is no fear of mischance. Look at his method of teaching. People "marvelled at his words of charm" (Luke 4:22)--"hung about him to hear him" (Luke 19:48). He said that the word is the overflow of the heart. "Out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaketh" (Matt. 12:34; Luke 6:45). What a heart, then, his words reveal! How easy and straightforward his language is! To-day we all use abstract nouns to convey our meaning; we cannot do without words ending in -ality and -anon. But there is no recorded saying of Jesus where he uses even "personality." He does not use abstract nouns. He sticks to plain words. When he speaks about God he does not say "the Great First Cause," or "Providence," or any other vague abstract. Still less does he use an adverb from the abstract, like "providentially." He says, "your heavenly Father." He does not talk of "humanity"; he says, "your brethren." He has no jargon, no technical terms, no scholastic vocabulary. He urges men not to over-study language; their speech must be simple, the natural, spontaneous overflow of the heart.[20] Jesus told his disciples not to think out beforehand what they would say when on trial (Mark 13:11)--it would be "given" to them. He was perfectly right; and when Christians obeyed him, they always spoke much better than when they thought out speeches beforehand. They said much less for one thing, and they said it much better. Take the case of the martyr--an early and historical one--whose two speeches were during her trial "Christiana sum" and, on her condemnation, "Deo gratias". With this, remark his own gift of arresting phrase; the freshness of his language, how free it is from quotation, how natural and how extraordinarily simple. Everything worthwhile can be put in simple language; and, if the speech is complicated, it is a call to think again. "As a woman, over-curiously trimmed, is to be mistrusted, so is a speech," said John Robinson of Leyden, the minister of the Pilgrim Fathers. The language of Jesus is simple and direct, the inevitable expression of a rich nature and a habit of truth. You feel he does not strain after effect--epigram, antithesis, or alliteration. Of course he uses such things--like all real speakers--but he does not go out of his way for them. No, and so much the more significant are such characteristic antitheses as: "Ye cannot serve God and mammon" (Luke 16:13), and "Whosoever will save his life shall lose it" (Matt. 16:25), coming with a spontaneous flash, and answering in their sharpness to the sharp edges of fact. His words caught the attention, and lived in the memory; they revealed such a nature; they were so living and unforgettable. Remark once again his preference for the actual and the ordinary. There are religions in which holiness involves unusual conditions and special diet. Some forms of mysticism seem to be incompatible with married life. But the type of holiness which Jesus teaches can be achieved with an ordinary diet, and a wife and five children. He had lived himself in a family of eight or nine. It is perhaps harder, but it is a richer sanctity, if the real mark of a Saint is, as we have been told, that he makes it easier for others to believe in God. In any case the ordinary is always good enough with Jesus. Only he would have men go deeper, always deeper. Why can you not think for yourselves? he asks. Signs were what men demanded. He pictures Dives' mind running on signs even in hell (Luke 16:27). "What could you do with signs? Look at what you have already. You read the weather for to-morrow by looking at the sky to-day. The south wind means heat; the red sky fair weather. Study, look, think" (Luke 12:55). His animals, as we saw, are all real animals; it is real observation; real analogy. When he speaks of the lost sheep, it is not a fictitious joy that he describes or an imaginary one; it is real. The more we examine his sayings with any touch of his spirit, the more we wonder. Of course it is possible to handle them in the wrong way, to miss the real thought and make folly of everything. Thus, when he says he is the door, the interpreter may stray into silly detail and make faith the key, and--I don't know what the panels and hinges could be. That is not the style of Jesus. The soul of the thing, the great central meaning, the real analogy is his concern. Seriousness in observation, seriousness in reflection, is what he teaches. Men and women break down for want of thinking things out. Many things become possible to those who think seriously, as he did--and, so to speak, without watertight compartments. Jesus is always urging seriousness in reflection. Seriousness in action, too, is one of his lessons--an emphasis on doing, but on _doing_ with a clear sense of what one is about, and why. A part of action is clear thought; always exactness, accuracy; you must think the thing out, he says, and then act or let it alone. The artistic temperament, we all know, is very much in evidence to-day. In "The Comments of Bagshot" we are told that the drawback is that there is so much temperament and so little art. Why? Because the artistic temperament means so little by itself. It is one of the secrets of Jesus, that it is action that illuminates. What is it that makes the poem? The poet sees beggar children running races, or little Edward and the weather-cock, or something greater if you like--the light on a woman's hair, or a flower; and you say, he has his poem. He has not. He must work at the thing. When we study the great poets, we realize how these things are worked out to the point of nerve-strain and exhaustion. The poet devotes himself heart and soul to the work; he alters this and that, once and again; he sees a fresh aspect of the thing, and he alters all again; he writes and rewrites, getting deeper and deeper into the essential values of the thing all the time. Where in all this is the artistic temperament? It gave him the impulse, but something else achieves the work of art. I have a feeling that the great works of art are achieved by the shopkeeper virtues in addition to the artistic temperament that sees and feels them at the beginning. It is action that gives the value of a thought. Jesus sees that. He says that frankly to his disciples. If you want to understand in the long run, it is carrying the cross that will teach you the real values. I have been treating him almost as if he were an authority on pedagogy. Fortunately, he never discussed pedagogy, never used the terms I have been using. But he dealt with men, he taught and he influenced them, and it is worth our study to understand how he did it--to master his methods. "One loving spirit sets another on fire." As for the effects of his words at once, as Seeley put it, they were "seething effervescence . . . broodings, resolutions, travail of heart." Men were brought face to face with a new issue; it was a time of choice; things would not be as they were men must be "with him or against him"--must accept or reject the new teaching, the new teacher, the new life. As he said, "I came to send fire on the earth" (Luke 12:49), to divide families, to divide the individual soul against itself, till the great choice was made; and so it has always been, where men have really seen him. We have to notice further the transformation of the disciples, who definitely accepted him. "Very wonderful to me," wrote Phillips Brooks, "to see how the disciples caught his method." The promise was made to them that they should become fishers of men (Mark 1:17), and it was fulfilled. Jesus made them strong enough to defy the world and to capture the world. There is something attractive about them; they have his secret, something of his charm; they are magnetic with his power. A new impulse to win men marks them, a new power to do it, a new faith which grows in significance as you study it--the faith of William Carey, a hundred years ago, was the same thing--a perfectly incredible faith, that they actually will win men for God and Christ. And they did--and along his lines and by his methods of love--even for Gentiles. "Woe is me, if I preach not the Gospel," says St. Paul (1 Cor. 9:16), who to preach the Gospel shipwrecked his life and suffered the loss of all things (Phil. 3:8). But these men are sure that it is worthwhile. They have a new passion for men and women--an interest not merely in the saving of their souls but in every real human need. The early Church made a point of teaching men trades when they had none. They learnt all this from him. The greatest miracle in history seems to me the transformation that Jesus effected in those men. Everything else in Christian or secular history, compared to it, seems easy and explicable; and it was achieved by the love of Jesus. The Church spread over the world without social machinery. The Gospel was preached instinctively, naturally. The earliest Christians were persecuted in Jerusalem, and were driven out. I picture one of them in flight; on his journey he falls in with a stranger. Before he knows what he is doing, he is telling his fellow traveller about Jesus. It follows from his explanation of why he is on the road; he warms up as he speaks. He never really thought about the danger of doing so. And the stranger wants to know more; he is captured by the message, and he too becomes a Christian. And then this involuntary preacher of the Gospel is embarrassed to learn that the man is a Gentile; he had not thought of that. I think that is how it began--so naturally and spontaneously. These people are so full of love of Jesus that they are bound to speak (Acts 8:4). "One loving heart sets another on fire." CHAPTER V THE TEACHING OF JESUS UPON GOD It is worth taking some trouble to realize how profoundly Jesus has changed the thinking of mankind about God. "Since Jesus lived," Dr. Fairbairn wrote, "God has been another and nearer Being to man." "Jesus," writes Dr. Fosdick, "had the most joyous idea of God that ever was thought of." That joyous sense of God he has given to his followers, and it stands in vivid contrast with the feelings men have toward God in the other religions. Christianity is the religion of joy. The New Testament is full of it. We know the general character of Jesus' attitude to God, his feeling for God, his sense of God's nearness. How immediate his knowledge of God is, how intimate! Of course, here, as everywhere, his teaching has such an occasional character--or else the records of it are so fragmentary--that we must not press the absence of system in it; and yet, I think, it would be right to say that Jesus puts before us no system of God, but rather suggests a great exploration, an intimacy with the slow and sure knowledge that intimacy gives. He has no definition of God,[21] but he assumes God, lives on the basis of God, interprets God; and God is discovered in his acts and his relations. He said to Peter, in effect--for the familiar phrase comes to this in modern English: "You think like a man; you don't think like God" (Mark 8:33). Elsewhere he contrasts God's thoughts with man's--their outlooks are so different "that which is highly esteemed among men is abomination in the sight of God" (Luke 16:15; the Greek words are very interesting). In other words, he would have men see all things as God sees them. That we do not so see them, remains the weak spot in our thinking. What Luther said to Erasmus is true of most of us: "Your thoughts concerning God are too human." "Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall _see_ God," said Jesus (Matt. 5:8), and throughout he emphasizes that the vision of God depends on likeness to God--it is love and a glowing purity that give that faculty, rather than any power of intellect apart from them. Jesus brings men back to the ultimate fact. Our views are too short and too narrow. He would have us face God, see him and realize him--think in the terms of God, look at things from God's point of view, live in God and with God. In modern phrase, he breaks up our dogmatism and puts us at a universal point of view to see things over again in a new and true perspective. How and where did he begin himself? Whence came his consciousness of God, his gift for recognizing God? We do not know. The story of his growth, his inward growth, is almost unrevealed to us. We are told that he learnt "by the things which he suffered" (Heb. 5:8), and that he "increased in wisdom and stature, and in favour with God and man" (Luke 2:52). Where does anyone begin, who takes us any great distance? It is very hard to know. Where did our own thoughts of God begin? What made them? How did they come? There is an inherited element in them, but how much else? Whence came the inherited element? How is it that to another man, with the same upbringing as ours, everything is different, everything means more? Remark, at any rate, in the teaching of Jesus, that there is no mysticism of the type so much studied to-day. There is nothing in the least "psychopathic" about him, nothing abnormal--no mystical vision of God, no mystical absorption in God, no mystical union with God, no abstraction, nothing that is the mark of the professed mystic. Yet he speaks freely of "seeing God"; he lives a life of the closest union with God; and God is in all his thoughts. A phrase like that of Clement of Alexandria, "deifying into apathy we become monadic," is seas away from anything we find in the speech of Jesus. That is not the way he preaches God. He is far more natural; and that his followers accepted this naturalness, and drew him so, and gave his teaching as he gave it, is a fresh pledge of the truthfulness of the Gospels. Again, his knowledge of God is not a matter of quotation, as ours very often tends to be. He is conscious always of the real nearness of God. He seems to wonder how it is that man can forget God. We do forget God. Augustine in his "Confessions" (iv. 12, 18) has to tell us that "God did not make the world and then go away." The practical working religion of a great many of us rests on a feeling that God is a very long way off. Our practical steps betray that we half think God did go away, when he had made the world. Prayer to us is not a real thing--it is not intercourse face to face; far too often it is like conversation over a telephone wire of infinite length which gets out of order. Even if words travel along that wire, there is so much "buzzing" that they are hardly recognizable. No, says Jesus, God is near, God is here--so near, that Jesus never feels that men have any need of a priesthood to come between, or to help them to God; God does all that. There is no common concern, no matter of food or clothing, no mere detail of the ordinary round of common duty and common life--father and mother, son, wife, friend--nothing of all that, but God is there; God knows about it; God is interested in it; God has taken care of it; God is enjoying it. How is it that men can "reject the counsel of God," refuse God's plans and ideas (Luke 7:30)? How is it that they forget God altogether? Jesus is surprised at the dullness of men's minds (Mark 8:17); it is a mystery to him. The rich fool, as we call him, though it is hard to see why we should call him a fool, when he is so like ourselves, had forgotten God somehow, and was startled when God spoke, and spoke to him. That story, seen so often among men,--the story of the thorns choking the seed (Matt. 13:22)--makes Jesus remark on the difficulty which a rich man finds in entering into the kingdom of God. God knows--that is what Jesus repeats, God cares; and God can do things; his hands are not tied by impotence. The knowledge of God is emphasized by Jesus; "Even the very hairs of your head are all numbered" (Matt. 10:30); "your Father knoweth" (Luke 12:30); "seeth in secret" (Matt. 6:4); "knoweth your hearts" (Luke 16:15); knows your struggles, knows your worries, knows your worth; God knows all about you. And "all things are possible with God" (Matt. 19:26). There is nothing that he cannot do, nothing that he will not do, for his children. Will a father refuse his child bread; will God not give what is good? (Matt. 7:11). Is it too big a thing for the Giver of Life to give food--which is the more difficult thing to give? (Luke 12:23). Look at God, as Jesus draws him--interested in flowers; God takes care of them, and thinks about their colours, so that even "Solomon in all his glory" is not equal to them (Matt. 6:30). God knows the birds in the nest--knows there is one fewer there to-day than there was yesterday (Matt. 10:29). God cares for them; how much more will he care for you (Matt. 6:26)? "Ye are of more value than many sparrows" (Matt. 10:31). And God thinks out man's life in all its relations, and provides for it. Society moves on lines he laid down for it; his plans underlie all. Thus, when Jesus is challenged on the question of marriage and divorce, with that clear thought and eye of his, he goes right back to God's intent--not to man's usage, not to the common law and practice of nations, but to God's intent and God's meaning. God ordained marriage; he thought it out (Matt. 19:4). Marriages will be better, if we think of them in this way. God gave men their food, does still, and all things that he gives are clean (Luke 11:41). We cannot have taboos at our Father's table. Over all is God's throne (Matt. 23:22). That idea, it seems to me, lapses somehow from our minds to-day. When Luther had to face the hostility of the Kaiser, the Emperor Charles V., he wrote to one of his friends: "Christ comes and sits at the right hand--not of the Kaiser, for in that case we should have perished long ago--but at the right hand of God. This is a great and incredible thing; but I enjoy it, incredible as it is; some day I mean to die in it. Why should I not live in it?" So Luther wrote--in not quite our modern vein. We hardly calculate on God as a factor; we omit him. Jesus did not. God's rule is over all; and in all our perplexity, doubt, and fear, Jesus reminds us that the first thing is faith in God. The fact is that "Thine is the Kingdom" means peace; it is a joyous reminder. For if he speaks of the Kingdom of God, the King is more than the Kingdom. It is the Kingdom, the rule, of the God whom Jesus teaches us to trust and to love. The Father is supreme. But that has more aspects than one. If our Father is supreme for us, he is supreme over us. Jesus emphasizes the will of God--God's commandment against man's tradition, God's will against man's notions (Mark 7:8). What a source of rest and peace to him is the thought of God's will! When Dante writes: "And His will is our peace," it is the thought of Jesus. And at the same time God's judgements are as real to Jesus' mind. "I will tell you," he says, "whom to fear, God--yes, fear him!" (Luke 12:5). He feels the tenderness and the awfulness of God at once. In speaking of God, it is noticeable that Jesus chiefly emphasizes God's interest in the individual, as giving the real clue to God's nature. On the whole, there is very little even implied, still less explicit, in the Gospels, about God as the great architect of Nature--hardly anything on the lines familiar to us in the Psalms and in Isaiah--"The sea is his, and he made it; and his hands formed the dry land" (Psalm 95:5)--"He taketh up the isles as a very little thing" (Isaiah 40:15). There is little of this in the Gospels; yet it is implied in the affair of the storm (Matt. 8:26). The disciples in their anxiety wake him. He does not understand their fear. Whose sea is it? Whose wind is it? Whose children are you? Cannot you trust your Father to control his wind and his sea? Of course it is possible that he said more about God as the Author of Nature than our fragmentary reports give us; but it may be that it is because the emphasis on God's care and love for the individual is hardest to believe, and at the same time best, gives the real value of God, that Jesus uses it so much. Perhaps the Great Artificer is too far away for our minds. He is too busy, we think; and yet, after all, if God is so great, why should he be so busy? If he is a real Father, why should not he be at leisure for his children? He is, says Jesus; a friend has leisure for his friends, and a father for his children; and God, Jesus suggests, always has leisure for you. The great emphasis with Jesus falls on the love of God. Thus he tells the story of the impossible creditor with two debtors (Luke 7:42). One owed him ten pounds, and the other a hundred. When they had nothing to pay, they both came to him and told him so. The ordinary creditor, at the very best, would say: "Well, I suppose I must put it down as a bad debt." Jesus says that this creditor took up quite another attitude. He smiled and said to his two troubled friends: "Is that all? Don't let anything like that worry you. What is that between you and me?" He forgave them the debt with such a charm ("echarisato"), Jesus says, that they both loved him. One feels that the end of the story must be, that they both paid him and loved him all the more for taking the money. What a delightful story of charm, and friendship and forgiveness! And it is a true picture of God, Jesus would have us believe, of God's forgiveness and the response it wakes in men. If we do not definitely set our minds to assimilate the ideas of Jesus, we shall make too little of the heart of God. With Jesus this is the central and crucial reality. He emphasizes the generosity of God. God makes his sun rise on the good and on the bad; he sends rain on the just and the unjust (Matt. 5:45). God's flowers are just as beautiful in the bad man's garden. God knows what his child needs, and gives it, whether it is a very good child or a very bad one. The Father is the same great wise Friend in either case. The peacemakers are recognized as the children of God, because of their family likeness to God (Matt. 5:9). They come among people, and find them in discord with one another, and their presence stills that; or they come into a man's life, when it is all in disorder and pain, and they bring peace there. They may not quite know it, but they do these things almost without meaning to do them. And Jesus says that this is a family likeness by which men know they are God's children. But it is not every teacher, pagan or Christian, who lays such stress on God's gift of peace, or is so sure of it. He uses Hosea's great saying about God--"I will have mercy and not sacrifice" (Hosea 6:6), as giving the truth about God. Matthew represents him as quoting it twice (Matt. 9:13, 12:7); and we can well believe that he found in it the real spirit of God and often referred to it. His own heart has taken him to the tenderest of the utterances of the Old Testament spoken by the most suffering of the Prophets. "Love your enemies," he says (Matt. 5:44); yes, for then you will be the real children of God. Or he speaks of the great patience of God, how God gives every man all the time and all the chance that he needs--sometimes, he half suggests, even a little more. Look at the parable of the fig tree, how the gardener pleads for the tree, begs and obtains another chance for it (Luke 13:8); that is like God, says Jesus. It is easy enough to talk in a vague way about the love of God. But the love of God implies surely the individual; love has little content indeed if its object is merely a collective noun, an abstract, a concept. But that God loves individual men is very difficult for us to believe in earnest. The real crux comes when the question rises in a man's own heart, "Does God love me?" Jesus says that he does, but it is very hard to believe, except in the company of Jesus and under his influence. Jesus throughout asserts and reasserts the value of the individual to God. Look, for example, at the picture he draws, when he tells of the recovery of the Lost Sheep, and brings out the analogy. At the end of the Book of Job (ch. 38) the poet carries his reader back to the first sight of a world new-made, and tells how God, like the real artist and creator--we might not have thought of all this, but the poet did--loves his work so much that he must have his friends sharing it with him. He calls them; he shows them the world he has made--"the beauty, and the wonder, and the power," as Browning says. The poet tells us that what followed was that "the morning stars sang together, and all the sons of God shouted for joy." The sight was so good that song and shout came instinctively, almost involuntarily. Is it not the same picture which Jesus draws of "joy in heaven in the presence of the angels of God over one sinner that repenteth"? We can believe in such joy when God made the world; but can we believe that there was the same joy in the presence of God yesterday when a coolie gave his heart to God? Jesus does. That is the central thing, it seems to me, in his teaching about God--that God cares for the individual to an extent far beyond anything we could think possible. If we can wrestle with that central thought and assimilate it, or, as the old divines said, "appropriate" it, make it our own, the rest of the Gospel is easy. But one can never manage it except with the help, and in the company, of Jesus. Jesus goes a step further, and believes in the possibility of a man loving God and God enjoying that too. If he speaks of prayer, must we not think he means that God wants it as much as his child can want it? How much is involved in the name "Father," which Jesus so uniformly gives to God? Something less than the word carries in the case of a human father, or more? What is the attitude of a father to his child? Jesus, as we have seen, uses this illustration to bring out God's care for the actual needs of his children. But is that all? What is the innermost thing in a father's relation to his children? Surely something more than the bird's instinct to feed her young, or to gather them under her wings (Luke 13:34). Is not one of the most real features of parenthood enjoyment of the child? Do not men and women frankly enjoy the grappling of the little mind with big things? Is there not a charm, as says one of the Christian Fathers (Minucius Felix), about the "half-words" that a child uses, as he learns to talk and wrestles with a grown-up vocabulary? About the extraordinary pictures he will draw of ships or cows--the quaint stories he will invent--the odd ways in which his gratitude and his affection express themselves? Is it a real fatherhood where such things do not appeal? Jesus' language about God, his whole attitude to God, implies throughout that God is as real a Father as anybody, and it suggests that God loves his children the more because they are real; because they are not very clever; because they do make such queer and imperfect prayers; because, in short, they need him; and because they fill a place in his heart. We have to remark how firmly Jesus believes in his Gospel of God and man needing each other and finding each other--his "good news," as he calls it. He bases all on his faith in what has been called "Man's incurable religious instinct"--that instinct in the human heart that must have God--and in God's response to that instinct which he himself implanted, and which is no accident found here and missing there, but a genuine God-given characteristic of every man, whatever his temperament or his range in emotions may be, his swiftness or slowness of mind. The repeated parables of seed and leaven--the parables of vitality--again and again suggest his faith in his message, his conviction that God must have man and man must have God--that, as St. Augustine puts it, "Thou hast made us for Thyself, and our heart knows no rest till it rests in Thee" (Conf., i. 1). That is the essence of the Gospel. How this union of the soul with God comes about, Jesus does not directly say, but there are many hints in his teaching that bear upon it. "The Kingdom of Heaven cometh not with observation," he said (Luke 17:20). Religious truth is not reached by "quick turns of self-applauding intellect," nor by demonstrations. It comes another way. The quiet familiarity with the deep true things of life, till on a sudden they are transfigured in the light of God, and truth is a new and glowing thing, independent of arguments and the strange evidence of thaumaturgy--this is the normal way; and Jesus holds by it. The great people, men of law and learning, want more; they want something to substantiate God's messages from without. If Jesus comes to them with a word from God, can he not prove its authenticity preferably with "a sign from the sky" (Mark 8:11)? For the signs he gives, and the evidence he suggests, are unsatisfactory. "And he sighed deeply in his spirit, and saith, `Why doth this generation seek after a sign? Verily I say unto you, there shall no sign be given unto this generation.' So he left them and went up into the ship again and went away." That scene is drawn from life. But why no sign? In the parallel passage we read: "`The wicked generation and adulterous seeketh a sign, but there shall no sign be given it, but the sign of the prophet Jonah'; so he left them and departed" (Matt. 16:4). The real explanation of this reference to Jonah is given by Luke (11:32), and missed or misdeveloped in Matthew (Matt. 12:40). Nineveh recognized instinctively the inherent truth of Jonah's message, and repented. Truth is its own evidence--like leaven in the meal, like seed in the field, it does its work, and its life reveals it. God is known that way. When the chief priests demand of Jesus to be told plainly what is his authority (Mark 11:27), he carries the matter a stage further: Was the baptism of John, he asks, from heaven, i.e. from God, or was it of men? Does God make His message clear, does He properly authenticate Himself? And the uneasy weighing of alternatives, summarized by the evangelist, leads to the answer that they could not tell whence it was; and Jesus rejoins that he has nothing to say to them about his authority. He had taken what we might call an easy case--where it was evident that God had spoken; and this was all they made of it--they "could not tell." It was plain, then, either that these men did not recognize the obvious message of God ("the word of God came upon John," Luke 3:9,), or that, if they did recognize it, they thought it did not matter. For the insincere and the trivial there is no message from God, no truth of God--how should there be? If we pursue this line of thought, we can see how, in Jesus' opinion, a man may be sure of God and of God's word for him. If a man be candid with himself, if he face the common facts of life with seriousness and in the doing of duty, perplexities vanish. Such a man is prepared for the Great Fact, by faithfulness to the little facts, and then God dawns on him in them. This is put directly in the Fourth Gospel (7:17), and in parable in the Synoptists. The leaven works, till the whole is leavened; the uneasy process is over and the result achieved. Or, it comes more quietly still--the seed grows while the farmer sleeps and rises, night and day; the blade springs up and the ear forms on the blade, the seed grows in the ear; and the end is reached and God's Kingdom is a reality. Or, the knowledge of God comes like a lightning flash--sudden, illuminative, decisive. "The Son reveals" God to the simple, Jesus said (Matt. 11:27). The Son of Man may be a disputable figure--"Whosoever speaketh a word against the Son of Man, it shall be forgiven him" (Matt. 12:32)--but there is no forgiveness in this world, or in any possible real world where God counts at all, for the refusal of the spirit of Truth. So he taught, and all history shows he was right--the refusal of truth is fatal. "Jesus," wrote Matthew Arnold, "never touches theory, but bases himself invariably upon experience." It is to experience that Jesus goes to authenticate his message. The real facts of life lead you to God, as the red sky, and the south wind, teach you to foretell the weather (Matt. 16:2; Luke 12:55). "Eyes and ears," said the Greek thinker, Heraclitus, long before, "are bad witnesses for such as have barbarian souls." The Pharisees discredited Jesus--he "cast out devils by Beelzebub." Did he, he asked, or was it "by the finger of God" (Luke 11:20)? Is there no evidence of God in restored sanity? But the strength of his position lies in the good news for the poor (Matt. 11:5), for those who labour and are heavy--laden (Matt. 11:28)--news of rest and refreshment--as if the intuition of God, with the peace it brings, were its own proof. Truth is reached less by ingenuity than by intensity. To the simple mind, to the true heart, to the pure soul (Matt. 5:8), to those whose gift is peace, Truth comes flooding in--new light on old fact, and new light from old fact--and God is evident. So Jesus judged; and here again, before we decide for or against his view, we have to make sure that we know his meaning, and realize the experience by which he reached his thought. And then, perhaps, God will be more evident to us in our turn. "The Kingdom of God cometh not with observation" (Luke 17:20)--it is "within" (Luke 17:21); so quietly it comes, that we may not guess how in any particular instance the realization of God came to a soul; but if we are candid and truth-loving we can know it when it has come to ourselves, and we can recognize it when it comes to another. We can recognize it in its power and peace, we can see the greatness of the new knowledge in the new man it makes, in the new life, the man of the great spirit, of the great action, the man of the great quiet, the man who has the peace of God. What does the discovery of God mean? Jesus himself speaks of a man turning right about, being converted (Matt. 18:3); of the revision of all ideas, of all standards, of all values. He gives us two beautiful pictures to illustrate what it means; and it repays us to linger over them. First, there is the Treasure Finder. He is in the country, digging perhaps in another man's field, or idling in the open; and by accident he stumbles on a buried treasure. Palestine was like Belgium--a land with a long history of wars fought on its soil by foreigners, Babylon or Assyria against Egypt, Ptolemies against Seleucids. It was the only available route for attack either on Egypt by land, or on Syria or Mesopotamia or Babylon from the Southern Mediterranean. In such a land when the foreign army marched through, a man had best hide his treasure and hope to find it again in better times, and again and again the secret of its place of burial died with him. The Treasure Finder had no lord of the manor to think of, no Treasury department. He made a great discovery, and made it initially for himself, and his own--"and for joy thereof he goeth and selleth all that he hath and buyeth that field." We can see him full of his discovery, full of eagerness and trying to hide his inner joy, as he realizes every penny he can manage, and achieves the great transaction which gives him the field and the treasure. The salient points are a sudden and great joy, an instant resolution, a complete sacrifice of everything, and a life unexpectedly and infinitely enriched. And so it is, says Jesus, with the Kingdom of God (Matt. 13:44). The Pearl Merchant is a more interesting figure. Perhaps we may picture him middle-aged, a trifle worn, somewhat silent, a man of keen eyes. He has been in his trade for years, and he is a master at it. By now he has a knowledge which years give to a man in earnest--a knowledge more like instinct than anything acquired. A glance at pearls on a table--this, and this, and this he will take the other, perhaps; he would look at that one--the rest? he shook his head and did not look at them--he saw without looking. One day he is told of a pearl--a good one. He is not surprised, for pearls are always good when they are offered for sale. But again a glance is enough. The price? Yes, it is high, but he will take the pearl, but he must be allowed till evening to get the money. He goes away and sells his stock--the little collection of pearls in his wallet, representing "the experience of a life-time," all of them good, as he very well knows; and he sells them for what he can get--at a loss, if it must be. Yesterday's bargainer cuts down his price for this and that pearl, and he is taken up; he never expected to do so well against the old dealer, and he laughs. But the merchant is content, too; he has sold all his pearls for what they would fetch--lost money on them, yes, and been laughed at behind his back. But he owns the one pearl of great price; it is his, and he is satisfied. There is no reference to joy here or exultation; but there is the same instant recognition of the opportunity, the same resolve, the same sacrifice, and the same great acquisition (Matt. 13:45). Both parables begin with a reference to the Kingdom of God--to that Rule and Kingship of God, the knowledge of which makes all the difference to a man. A small grammatical difference points us beyond minutiae to the common experience of the two men. Each makes a great discovery, and takes action in a great and urgent resolve; and they are both repaid. If we are to understand the two parables in the sense intended by Jesus, the term "God" must become alive to us with all the life and power and love that the name implies for him. Then to grasp that this Father of Jesus is King--that the God of his thoughts, of his faith, with all the tenderness and the power combined that Jesus teaches us to see in Him--rules the universe, controls our destiny and loves us--this is the experience that Jesus compares with that of the Treasure Finder and the Pearl Merchant--worth, he suggests, everything a man has, and more than all. In passing, we may notice that these stories suggest that this experience may be reached in different ways. In the parables of the seed and the leaven he indicates a natural, quiet and unconscious growth, a story without crisis, though full of change. To the Treasure Finder the discovery is a surprise--how came Jesus so far into the minds of men as to know what a surprise God can be, and how joyful a surprise? The Pearl Merchant, on the other hand, has lived in the region where he makes his discovery. He is the type that lives and moves in the atmosphere of high and true thought, that knows whatsoever things are pure and lovely and of good report, of help and use; he is no stranger to great and inspiring ideas. And one day, in no strange way, by no accident, but in the ordinary round of life, he comes on something that transcends all he has been seeking, all he has known--the One thing worth all. There is little surprise about it, no wild elation, but nothing is allowed to stand in the way of an instant entrance into the great experience--and the great experience is, Jesus says, God. To see God, to know God--that is what Jesus means--to get away from "all the fuss and trouble" of life into the presence of God, to know he is ours, to see him smile, to realize that he wants us to stay there, that he is a real Father with a father's heart, that his love is on the same wonderful scale as every one of his attributes, and in reality far more intelligible than any of them. That is the picture Jesus draws. The sheer incredible love of God, the wonderful change it means for all life--that is his teaching, and he encourages us, in the words of the Shorter Catechism, "to enjoy God for ever," as Jesus himself does. Those who learn his secret enjoy God in reality. Wherever they see God with the eyes of Jesus, it is joy and peace. And they realize with deepening emotion that this also is God's gift, as Jesus said (Luke 8:10; 12:39). Jesus entirely recast mankind's common ideas of holiness. It is no longer asceticism, no longer the mystical trance, no longer the "fussiness," with which the early Christian reproached the Jew, which still haunts all the religions of taboo and merit, and even Christianity in some forms. Where men think of holiness as freedom from sin, the negative conception reacts on life. They begin at the wrong end. Solomon Schechter, the great Jewish scholar, once said of Oxford, that "they practice fastidiousness there, and call it holiness." Unfortunately Oxford has no monopoly of that type of holiness. But with Jesus holiness is a much simpler and more natural thing--as natural as the happy, easy life of father and child, and it rests on mutual faith. It is Theocentric, positive, active rather than passive--not a state, but a relation and a force. Holiness with him is a living relation with the living God. That is why the first feature in it that strikes us is Courage. "Be of good cheer; be not afraid"; that note rings through the Gospels, and how much it means, and has meant, in sweet temper and cheerfulness in the very chequered history of the Church! His is the great voice of Hope in the world. "The Lord Jesus Christ, who is our Hope," Paul said (1 Tim. 1:1). Even on the Cross, according to one text, Jesus said to the penitent thief: "Courage! To-day thou shalt be with me in paradise" (Luke 23:43). We may not know where or what paradise is, but the rest is intelligible and splendid: "Courage; to-day thou shalt be with me." Look at the brave hearts the Gospel has made in every age; how venturesome they are! and we find the same venturesomeness in Jesus--for instance, as a German scholar emphasizes, in that episode of the daughter of Jairus. The messenger comes and says she is dead. Anybody else would stop, but Jesus goes on. That is a great piece of interpretation. Look again at his venturesomeness in trusting the Gospel to the twelve and to us--and in facing the Cross. "It was his knowledge of God," says Professor Peabody, "that gave him his tranquillity of mind."[22] "Jesus," says Dr. Cairns, "said that no one ever trusted God enough, and that was the source of all the sin and tragedy." Look at his emphasis again and again on faith; and the language is not that of guesswork; they are the words of the great Son of Fact, who based himself on experience. "Have faith in God" (Mark 11:22). "Be not afraid, only believe" (Mark 5:36). "All things are possible to him that believeth" (Mark 9:23). When he criticizes his disciples, it is on the score of their want of faith--"O ye of little faith"--it has been taken as almost a nickname for them. In the hour of trial and danger they may trust to "the Spirit of your Father" (Matt. 10:20). It is remarkable what value he attaches to faith even of the slightest--"faith as a grain of mustard seed" (Matt. 17:90)--it is little, but it is of the seed order, a living thing of the most immense vitality with the promise of growth and usefulness in it. This brings us to the question of Prayer. Some of us, of course, do not believe very much in prayer for certain philosophical reasons, which perhaps, as a matter of fact, are not quite as sound as we think, because our definition of prayer is a wrong one, resting on insufficient experience and insufficient reflection. What is prayer? We shall agree that it is the act by which man definitely tries to relate his soul and life to God. What Jesus then teaches on prayer will illuminate what he means by God; and conversely his conception of God will throw new light upon the whole problem of prayer. It is plain history that Jesus, the great Son of Fact, believed in prayer, told men to pray, and prayed himself. The Gospels and the Epistle to the Hebrews lay emphasis on his practice. Early in the morning he withdrew to the desert (Mark 1:35), late at night he remained on the hillside for prayer (Mark 6:46). Wearied by the crowds that thronged him, he kept apart and continued in prayer. He prays before he chooses the disciples (Luke 6:12). He gives thanks to God on the return of the seventy from their missionary journey (Luke 10:21). Prayer is associated with the confession of Caesarea Philippi (Luke 9:18), with the Mount of Transfiguration (Luke 9:29), with Gethsemane (Luke 22:41). The writer to the Hebrews speaks of his "strong crying and tears" (Heb. 5:7) in prayer. The Gospels even mention what we should call his unanswered prayers. The prayer before the calling of the Twelve does not exclude Judas; and the cup does not pass in spite of the prayer in Gethsemane. It is as if we had something to learn from the unanswered prayers of our Master. Certainly the content of the Gospel for us would have been poorer if they had been answered in our sense of the word; and this fact, taken with his own teaching on prayer, and his own submission to the Father's will, may help us over some of our difficulties. But Jesus had no doubt or fear about prayer being answered. "Ask, and it shall be given you; seek, and ye shall find; knock, and it shall be opened unto you" (Luke 11:9)--are not ambiguous statements in the least; and they come from one "who based himself on experience." It is worth thinking out that the experience of Jesus lies behind his recommendation of prayer. All his clear-eyed knowledge of God speaks in these plain sentences. "As he was praying, they ask him, Teach us to pray, as John also taught his disciples" (Luke 11:1). It looks as if at times his disciples caught him at prayer or even overheard him, and felt that here was prayer that took them out beyond all they had ever known of prayer. There were men whom John had taught to pray; was it they who asked Jesus to teach them over again? There may have been some of them who had learnt the Pharisee's way in prayer, and some who stuck to the simpler way they had been taught in childhood. In each case the old ways were outgrown. We can put together what he taught them. In the first place, the thing must be real and individual--the first requirement always with Jesus. The public prayer of ostentation is out of the reckoning; it is nothing. Jesus chooses the quiet and solitary place for his intercourse with his Father. The real prayer is to the Father in secret--His affair. And it will be earnest beyond what most of us think. We are so familiar with Gospel and parable that we do not take in the strenuousness of Jesus' way in prayer. The importunate widow (Luke 18:2) and the friend at midnight (Luke 11:5) are his types of insistent and incessant earnestness. Do you, he asks, pray with anything like their determination to be heard? The knock at the door and the pleading voice continue till the request is granted--in each case by a reluctant giver. But God is not reluctant, Jesus says, though God, too, will choose his own time to answer (Luke 18:7). It does not mean the mechanical reiteration of the heathen (Matt. 6:7)--not at all, that is not the business of praying; but the steady earnest concentration on the purpose, with the deeper and deeper clarification of the thought as we press home into God's presence till we get there. It was so that he prayed, we may be sure. It is not idly that prayer has been called "the greatest task of the Christian man"; it will not be an easy thing, but a strenuous. One part of the difficulty of prayer is recognized by Jesus over and over again. Men do not really quite believe that they will be answered--they are "of little faith." But he tells them with emphasis, in one form of words and another, driving it home into them, that "all things are possible with God" (Mark 10:27)--"have faith in God" (Mark 11:22). One can imagine how he fixes them with the familiar steady gaze, pauses, and then with the full weight of his personality in his words, and meaning them to give to his words the full value he intends, says: "Have faith in God." To see him and to hear him must have given that faith of itself. If the friend in the house to your knowledge has the loaves, you will knock till you get them; and has not God the gifts for you that you need? Is he short of the power to help, or is it the will to help that is wanting in God? Once more the vital thing is Jesus' conception of God. Here, as elsewhere, we sacrifice far more than we dream by our lazy way of using his words without making the effort to give them his connotation. To turn again to passages already quoted, will a father give his son a serpent instead of the fish for which he asks, a stone for bread? It is unthinkable; God--will God do less? It all goes back again to the relation of father and child, to the love of God; only into the thought, Jesus puts a significance which we have not character or love enough to grasp. "Your Father knoweth that ye have need of these things," he says about the matters that weigh heaviest with us (Luke 12:30). Even if we suppose Luke's reference to the Father giving the Holy Spirit to those who ask (Luke 11:13), to owe something to the editor's hand--it was an editor with some Christian experience--it is clear that Jesus steadily implies that the heavenly Father has better things than food and clothing for his children. How much of a human father is available for his children? Then will not the heavenly Father, Jesus suggests, give on a larger scale, and give Himself; in short, be available for the least significant of His own children in all His fullness and all His Fatherhood? And even if they do not ask, because they do not know their need, will he not answer the prayers that others, who do know, make for them? Jesus at all events made a practice of intercession--"I prayed for thee," he said to Peter (Luke 22:32)--and the writers of the New Testament feel that it is only natural for Jesus, Risen, Ascended, and Glorified, to make intercession for us still (Rom. 8:34; Heb. 7:25). We have again to think out what God's Fatherhood implies and carries with it for Jesus. "The recurrence of the sweet and deep name, Father, unveils the secret of his being. His heart is at rest in God."[23] Rest in God is the very note of all his being, of all his teaching--the keynote of all prayer in his thought. "Our Father, who art in heaven," our prayers are to begin--and perhaps they are not to go on till we realize what we are saying in that great form of speech. It is certain that as these words grow for us into the full stature of their meaning for Jesus, we shall understand in a more intimate way what the whole Gospel is in reality. The writer to the Hebrews has here an interesting suggestion for us. Using the symbolism of the Hebrew religion and its tabernacle, he compares Jesus to the High Priest, but Jesus, he says, does not enter into the holiest alone. "Having therefore, brethren, boldness to enter into the holiest by the blood of Jesus, by a new and living way, which he hath consecrated for us ... let us draw near with a true heart in full assurance of faith" (Heb. 10:19). In the previous chapter he discards the symbol and "speaks things"--"Christ is not entered into the holy places made with hands, which are the figures of the true; but into heaven itself, now to appear in the presence of God for us" (Heb. 9:24). There he touches what has been the faith of the Church throughout--that in Christ we reach the presence of God. Without saying so much in so many words, Jesus implies this in all his attitude to prayer. God is there, and God loves you, and loves to have you speak with him. No one has ever believed this very much outside the radius of Christ's person and influence. It is, when we give the words full weight, an essentially Christian faith, and it depends on our relation to Jesus Christ. Jesus was quite explicit with his friends in telling them they did not know what to ask, but he showed them himself what they should ask. "Seek ye first the kingdom of God and his righteousness" (Matt. 6:33), he says, and tells us to pray for the forgiveness of our sins and for deliverance from evil. Pray, too, "Thy kingdom come." "Pray ye the Lord of the harvest, that he will send forth labourers into his harvest" (Matt. 9:38). This is perhaps the only place where he asked his disciples to pray for his great work. Identification with God's purposes--identification with the individual needs of those we love and those we ought to love--identification with the world's sin and misery--these seem to be his canons of prayer for us, as for himself. For both in what he teaches others and in what he does himself, he makes it a definite prerequisite of all prayer that we say: "Thy will be done." Prayer is essentially dedication, deeper and fuller as we use it more and come more into the presence of God. Obedience goes with it; "we must cease to pray or cease to disobey," one or the other. If we are half-surrendered, we are not very bright about our prayers, because we do not quite believe that God will really look after the things about which we are anxious. We must indeed go back to what Jesus said about God; we had better even leave off praying for a moment till we see what he says, and then begin again with a clearer mind. "Ask, and ye shall receive," he says; and if we have no obedience, or love, or faith, or any of the great things that make prayer possible, he suggests that we can ask for them and have them. The Gospel gives us an illustration in the man who prayed: "Lord, I believe; help thou mine unbelief" (Mark 9:24). But it is plain we have to understand that we are asking for great things, and it is to them rather than to the obvious little things that Jesus directs our thoughts. Not away from the little things, for if God is a real Father he will wish to have his children talk them over with him--"little things please little minds," yes, and great minds when the little minds are dear to them--but not little things all the time. There is a variant to the saying about seeking first the Kingdom of Heaven, which Clement of Alexandria preserves. Perhaps it is a mere slip, but God, it has been said, can use misquotations; and Clement's quotation, or misquotation, certainly represents the thought of Jesus, and it may give us a hint for our own practice: "Ask," saith he, "the great things, and the little things will be added unto you" (Strom. i. 158). The object of Jesus was to induce men to base all life on God. Short-range thinking, like the rich fool's, may lead to our forgetting God; but Jesus incessantly lays the emphasis on the thought-out life; and that, in the long run, means a new reckoning with God. That is what Jesus urges--that we should think life out, that we should come face to face with God and see him for what he is, and accept him. He means us to live a life utterly and absolutely based on God--life on God's lines of peacemaking and ministry, the "denial of self," a complete forgetfulness of self in surrender to God, obedience to God, faith in God, and the acceptance of the sunshine of God's Fatherhood. He means us to go about things in God's way--forgiving our enemies, cherishing kind thoughts about those who hate us or despise us or use us badly (Matt. 5:44), praying for them. This takes us right back into the common world, where we have to live in any case; and it is there that he means us to live with God--not in trance, but at work, in the family, in business, shop, and street, doing all the little things and all the great things that God wants us to do, and glad to do them just because we are his children and he is our Father. Above all, he would have us "think like God" (Mark 8:33); and to reach this habit of "thinking like God," we have to live in the atmosphere of Jesus, "with him" (Mark 3:14). All this new life he made possible for us by being what he was--once again a challenge to re-explore Jesus. "The way to faith in God and to love for man," said Dr. Cairns at Mohonk, "is, as of old, to come nearer to the living Jesus." CHAPTER VI JESUS AND MAN When, on his last journey, Jesus came in sight of Jerusalem, Luke tells us that he wept (Luke 19:41). There is an obvious explanation of this in the extreme tension under which he was living--everything turned upon the next few days, and everything would be decided at Jerusalem; but while he must have felt this, it cannot have been the cause of his weeping. Nor should we look for it altogether in the appeal which a great city makes to emotion. Dull would he be of soul who could pass by A sight so touching in its majesty. Yet it was not the architecture that so deeply moved Jesus; the temple, which was full in view, was comparatively new and foreign. There is little suggestion in the Gospels that Art meant anything to him, perhaps it meant little to the writers. As for the temple, he found it "a den of thieves" (Luke 19:46); and he prophesied that it would be demolished, and of all its splendid buildings, its goodly stones and votive offerings, which so much impressed his disciples, not one stone would be left upon another stone (Mark 13:9; Luke 21:5). But the traditions of Jerusalem wakened thoughts in him of the story of his people, thoughts with a tragic colour. Jerusalem was the place where prophets were killed (Luke 13:34), the scene and centre, at once, of Israel's deepest emotions, highest hopes, and most awful failures. "O Jerusalem! Jerusalem!" he had said in sadness as he thought of Israel's holy city, "which killest the prophets and stonest them that are sent unto thee, how often would I have gathered thy children together, as a hen doth gather her brood under her wings, and ye would not!" (Luke 13:34). And now he is in sight of Jerusalem. The city and the temple suddenly meet his view, as he reaches the height, and he is deeply moved. Any reflective mind might well have been stirred by the thought of the masses of men gathered there. Nothing is so futile as an arithmetical numbering of people, for after a certain point figures paralyse the imagination, and after that they tell the mind little or nothing. But here was actually assembled the Jewish people, coming in swarms from all the world, for the feast; here was Judaism at its most pious; here was the pilgrim centre with all it meant of aspiration and blindness, of simple folly and gross sin. The sight of the city--the doomed city, as he foresaw--the thought of his people, their zeal for God and their alienation from God--it all comes over him at once, and, with a sudden rush of feeling, he apostrophizes Jerusalem--"If thou hadst known, even thou, at least in this thy day, the things which belong unto thy peace! But now they are hid from thine eyes . . . . Thou knewest not the time of thy visitation!" (Luke 19:42-44). It is quite plain from the Gospels that crowds had always an appeal for Jesus. At times he avoided them; but when they came about him, they claimed him and possessed him. Over and over again, we read of his pity for them--"he saw a great multitude and was moved with compassion toward them" (Matt. 14:14)--of his thought for their weariness and hunger, his reflection that they might "faint by the way" on their long homeward journeys (Mark 8:3), and his solicitude about their food. Whatever modern criticism makes of the story of his feeding multitudes, it remains that he was markedly sensitive to the idea of hunger. Jairus is reminded that his little girl will be the better for food (Mark 5:43). The rich are urged to make feasts for the poor, the maimed and the blind (Luke 14:12). The owner of the vineyard, in the parable, pays a day's wage for an hour's work, when an hour was all the chance that the unemployed labourer could find (Matt. 20:9). No sanctity could condone for the devouring of widows' houses (Matt. 23:14). The great hungry multitudes haunt his mind. The story of the rich young ruler shows this (Mark 10:17-22). Here was a man of birth and education, whose face and whose speech told of a good heart and conscience--a man of charm, of the impulsive type that appealed to Jesus. Jesus "looked on him," we read. The words recall Plato's picture of Socrates looking at the jailer, how "he looked up at him in his peculiar way, like a bull"--the old man's prominent eyes were fixed on the fellow, glaring through the brows above them, and Socrates' friends saw them and remembered them when they thought of the scene. As Jesus' eyes rested steadily on this young man, the disciples saw in them an expression they knew--"Jesus, looking on him, loved him." Their talk was of eternal life; and, no doubt to his surprise, Jesus asked the youth if he had kept the commandments; how did he stand as regarded murder, theft, adultery? The steady gaze followed the youth's impetuous answer, and then came the recommendation to sell all that he had and give to the poor--"and, Come! Follow me!" At this, we read in a fragment of the "Gospel according to the Hebrews" (preserved by Origen), "the rich man began to scratch his head, and it did not please him. And the Lord said to him, `How sayest thou, "The law I have kept and the prophets?" For it is written in the law, "thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself"; and behold! many who are thy brethren, sons of Abraham, are clad in filth and dying of hunger, and thy house is full of many good things, and nothing at all goes out from it to them.' And he turned and said to Simon, his disciple, who was sitting beside him: `Simon, son of John, it is easier for a camel to go through a needle's eye than for a rich man to enter into the Kingdom of Heaven.'" We need not altogether reject this variant of the story. But it was more than the physical needs of the multitude that appealed to Jesus. "Man's Unhappiness, as I construe," says Teufelsdröckh in "Sartor Resartus", "comes of his Greatness, it is because there is an Infinite in him, which with all his cunning he cannot quite bury under the Finite. Will the whole Finance Ministers and Upholsterers and Confectioners of modern Europe undertake, in joint-stock company, to make one Shoeblack happy?" We read in a passage, which it is true, is largely symbolic, that one of Jesus' quotations from the Old Testament was that "Man shall not live by bread alone" (Luke 4:4). Hunger is a real thing--horribly real; but it is comparatively easy to deal with, and man has deeper needs. The Shoeblack, according to Teufelsdröckh, wants "God's infinite universe altogether to himself." In the simpler words of Jesus, he is never happy till he says, "I will arise and go to my Father" (Luke 15:18). This craving for the Father the men of Jesus' day tried to fill with the law; and, when the law failed to satisfy it, they had nothing further to suggest, except their fixed idea that "God heareth not sinners" (John 9:31). They despaired of the great masses and left them alone. They did not realize, as Jesus did, that the Father also craves for his children. When Jesus saw the simpler folk thus forsaken, the picture rose in his mind of sheep, worried by dogs or wolves, till they fell, worn out--sheep without a shepherd (Matt. 9:36). Every one remembers the shepherd of the parable who sought the one lost sheep until he found it, and how he brought it home on his shoulders (Luke 15:5). But there is another parable, we might almost say, of ninety and nine lost sheep--a parable, not developed, but implied in the passage of Matthew, and it is as significant as the other, for our Good Shepherd has to ask his friends to help him in this case. The appeal that lay in the sheer misery and helplessness of masses of men was one of the foundations of the Christian Church. (The Good Shepherd, by the way, is a phrase from the Fourth Gospel (John 10:11), but we think most often of the Good Shepherd as carrying the sheep, and that comes from Luke, and is in all likelihood nearer the parable of Jesus.) It is worth noticing that Jesus stands alone in refusing to despair of the greater part of mankind. Contempt was in his eyes the unpardonable sin (Matt. 5:22). How swift and decisive is his anger with those who make others stumble! (Luke 17:2). The parable of the lost sheep reveals what he held to be God's feeling for the hopeless man; and, as we have seen, his constant aim is to lead men to "think like God." The lost soul matters to God. He sums up his own work in the world in much the same language as he uses about the shepherd in the parable: "The Son of Man is come to seek and to save that which is lost" (Luke 19:10). The taunt that he was the "friend of publicans and sinners" really described what he was and wished to be (Luke 7:34). God was their Heavenly Father. The sight, then, of the masses of his countrymen, like worried sheep, worn, scattered, lost, and hopeless, waked in him no shade of doubt--on the contrary, it was further proof to him of the soundness of his message. Changing his simile, he told his disciples that the harvest was great, but the labourers few, and he asked them to pray the Lord of the harvest to thrust forth labourers into His harvest (Matt. 9:38). The very name "Lord of the harvest" implies faith in God's competence and understanding. From the first, he seems to have held up before his followers that this wide service was to be their work--"Come ye after me," he said, "and I will make you to become fishers of men" (Mark 1:17)--men, who should really "catch men" (Luke 5:10). Like all for whom the world has had a meaning, Jesus, as we have seen, accepted the necessary conditions of man's life. Human misery and need were widespread, but God's Fatherhood was of compass fully as wide, and Jesus relied upon it. "Your heavenly Father knows," he said (Matt. 6:32), and "with God all things are possible" (Mark 10:27). The very miseries of the oppressed and hopeless people added grounds to his confidence. People who had touched bottom in sounding the human spirit's capacity for misery, were for him the "ripe harvest" (Matt. 9:37), only needing to be gathered (Mark 4:29). He understood them, and he knew that he had the healing for all their troubles. With full assurance of the truth of his words, he cried: "Come unto me all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest" (Matt. 11:28). He spoke of a rest which careless familiarity obscures for us. What understanding and sympathy he shows, when he adds: "My yoke is easy, and my burden is light!" Misery, poverty and hunger, he had found, taught men to see realities. The hungry, at least, were not likely to mistake a stone for bread--they had a ready test for it, on which they could rely. Poverty threw open the road to the Kingdom of God. The clearing away of all temporary satisfactions, of all that cloaked the soul's deepest needs, prepared men for real relations with the greatest Reality--with God. So that Jesus boldly said: "Blessed are ye poor"; "Blessed are ye that hunger now"; "Blessed are ye that weep now" (Luke 6:20, 21); but he had no idea that they were always to weep. If it was his to care for men's hunger, it was not likely that he would have no comfort for their tears--"Ye shall find rest unto your souls" (Matt. 11:29)--"They shall be comforted" (Matt. 5:4). It was in large part upon the happiness which he was to bring to the poor that Jesus based his claim to be heard. There is little reasonable ground for doubt that he healed diseases. Of course we cannot definitely pronounce upon any individual case reported; the diagnosis might be too hasty, and the trouble other than was supposed; but it is well known that such healings do occur--and that they occurred in Jesus' ministry, we can well believe. So when he was challenged as to his credentials, he pointed to misery relieved; and the culmination of everything, the crowning feature of his work, he found in his "good news for the poor." The phrase he borrowed from Isaiah (61:1), but he made it his own--the splendid promises in Isaiah for "the poor, the broken-hearted, captives, blind and bruised," appealed to him. Time has laid its hand upon his word, and dulled its freshness. "Gospel" and "evangelical" are no longer words of sheer happiness like Jesus' "good news"--they are technical terms, used in handbooks and in controversy; while for Jesus the "good news for the poor" was a new word of delight and inspiration. The centre in all the thoughts of Jesus, as we have to remind ourselves again and again, is God. If, as Dr. D. S. Cairns puts it, "Jesus Christ is the great believer in man," it is--if we are reading him aright at all--because God believes in man. Let us remind ourselves often of that. "Thou hast made us for Thyself," said Augustine in the famous sentence, of which we are apt to emphasize the latter half, "and our heart knows no rest till it rests in Thee" (Confessions, i. 1). Jesus would have us emphasize the former clause as well, and believe it. The keynote of his whole story is God's love; the Father is a real father--strange that one should have to write the small f to get the meaning! All that Jesus has taught us of God, we must bring to bear on man. For it is hard to believe in man--"What is man that thou shouldest magnify him? and that thou shouldest set thine heart upon him?" quotes the author of "Job" in a great ironical passage (Job 7:17; from Psalm 8:4). The elements and the stars come over us, as they came over George Fox in the Vale of Beavor; what is man? Can one out of fifteen hundred millions of human beings living on one planet matter to God, when there are so many planets and stars, and there have been so many generations? Can he matter? It all depends on how we conceive of God. Here it is essential to give all the meaning to the term "God" that Jesus gave to it, to believe in God as Jesus believed in God, if we are to understand the fullness of Jesus' "good news." It all depends on God--on whether Jesus was right about God; and after all on Jesus himself. "A thing of price is man," wrote Synesius about 410 A.D., "because for him Christ died." The two things go together--Jesus' death and Jesus' Theocentric thought of man. It is a familiar criticism of idealists and other young hearts, that it is easy to idealize what one does not know. "Omne ignotum pro magnifico" is the old epigram of Tacitus. It is not every believer in man, nor every "Friend of man," who knows men as Jesus did. Like Burns and Carlyle and others who have interpreted man to us to some purpose, he grew up in the home of labouring people. He was a working man himself, a carpenter. He must have learnt his carpentry exactly as every boy learns it, by hammering his fingers instead of the nail, sawing his own skin instead of the wood--and not doing it again. He knew what it was to have an aching back and sweat on the face; how hard money is to earn, and how quickly it goes. He makes it clear that money is a temptation to men, and a great danger; but he never joins the moralists and cranks in denouncing it. He always talks sense--if the expression is not too lowly to apply to him. He sees what can be done with money, what a tool it can be in a wise man's hands--how he can make friends "by means of the mammon of unrighteousness" (Luke 16:9), for example, by giving unexpectedly generous wages to men who missed their chances (Matt. 20:15), by feeding Lazarus at the gate, and perhaps by having his sores properly attended to (Luke 16:20). That he understood how pitifully the loss of a coin may affect a household of working people, one of his most beautiful parables bears witness (Luke 15:8-10). With work he had no quarrel. He draws many of his parables from labour, and he implies throughout that it is the natural and right thing for man. To be holy in his sense, a man need not leave his work. Clement of Alexandria, in his famous saying about the ploughman continuing to plough, and knowing God as he ploughs, and the seafaring man, sticking to his ship and calling on the heavenly pilot as he sails, is in the vein of Jesus.[24] There were those whom he called to leave all, to distribute their wealth, and to follow him; but he chose them (Mark 3:13, 14); it was not his one command for all men (cf. Mark 5:19). But, as we shall shortly see, it is implied by his judgements of men that he believed in work and liked men who "put their backs into it"--their backs, eyes, and their brains too. Pain, the constant problem of man, and perhaps more, of woman--of unmarried woman more especially--he never discussed as modern people discuss it. He never made light of pain any more than of poverty; he understood physical as well as moral distress. Nor did he, like some of his contemporaries and some modern people, exaggerate the place of pain in human experience. He shared pain, he sympathized with suffering; and his understanding of pain, and, above all, his choice of pain, taught men to reconsider it and to understand it, and altered the attitude of the world toward it. His tenderness for the suffering of others taught mankind a new sympathy, and the "nosokomeion", the hospital for the sick, was one of the first of Christian institutions to rise, when persecution stopped and Christians could build. "And the blind and the lame came to him in the temple, and he healed them," says Matthew (21:14) in a memorable phrase. I have heard it suggested that it was irregular for them to come into the temple courts; but they gravitated naturally to Jesus. The mystic is never quite at leisure for other people's feelings and sufferings; he is essentially an individualist; he must have his own intercourse with God, and other people's affairs are apt to be an interruption, an impertinence. "I have not been thinking of the community; I have been thinking of Christ," said a Bengali to me, who was wavering between the Brahmo Samaj and Christianity. The blessed Angela of Foligno was rather glad to be relieved of her husband and children, who died and left her leisure to enjoy the love of God. All this is quite unlike the real spirit of the historical Jesus. "Himself took our infirmities and bare our sicknesses," was a phrase of Isaiah that came instinctively to the minds of his followers (Matt. 8:17, roughly after Isaiah 53:4). Perhaps when we begin to understand what is meant by the Incarnation, we may find that omnipotence has a great deal more to do than we have supposed with natural sympathy and the genius for entering into the sorrows and sufferings of other people. One side of the work of Jesus must never be forgotten. His attitude to woman has altered her position in the world. No one can study society in classical antiquity or in non-Christian lands with any intimacy and not realize this. Widowhood in Hinduism, marriage among Muslims--they are proverbs for the misery of women. Even the Jew still prays: "Blessed art thou, O Lord our God! King of the Universe, who hast not made me a woman." The Jewish woman has to be grateful to God, because He "hath made me according to His will"--a thanksgiving with a different note, as the modern Jewess, Amy Levy, emphasized in her brilliant novel, where her heroine, very like herself, corrected her prayerbook to make it more explicit "cursed art Thou, O Lord our God! Who hast made me a woman." Paul must have known these Jewish prayers, for he emphasized that in Christ there is neither male nor female (Gal. 3:28). Paul had his views--the familiar old ways of Tarsus inspired them[25]--as to woman's dress and deportment, especially the veil; but he struck the real Christian note here, and laid stress on the fact of what Jesus had done and is doing for women. There is no reference made by Jesus to woman that is not respectful and sympathetic; he never warns men against women. Even the most degraded women find in him an amazing sympathy; for he has the secret of being pure and kind at the same time--his purity has not to be protected; it is itself a purifying force. He draws some of his most delightful parables from woman's work, as we have seen. It is recorded how, when he spoke of the coming disaster of Jerusalem, he paused to pity poor pregnant women and mothers with little babies in those bad times (Luke 21:23; Matt. 24:19). Critics have remarked on the place of woman in Luke's Gospel, and some have played with fancies as to the feminine sources whence he drew his knowledge--did the women who ministered to Jesus, Joanna, for instance, the wife of Chuza (Luke 8:3), tell him these illuminative stories of the Master? In any case Jesus' new attitude to woman is in the record; and it has so reshaped the thought of mankind, and made it so hard to imagine anything else, that we do not readily grasp what a revolution he made--here as always by referring men's thoughts back to the standard of God's thoughts, and supporting what he taught by what he was. Mark has given us one of our most familiar pictures of Jesus sitting with a little child on his knee and "in the crook of his arm." (The Greek participle which gives this in Mark 9:36 and 10:16 is worth remembering--it is vivid enough.) Mothers brought their children to him, "that he should put his hands on them and pray" (Matt. 19:13). Matthew (21:15) says that children took part in the Triumphal Entry; and Jesus, clear as he was how little the Hosannas of the grown people meant, seems to have enjoyed the children's part in the strange scene. Classical literature, and Christian literature of those ages, offer no parallel to his interest in children. The beautiful words, "suffer little children to come unto me," are his, and they are characteristic of him (Matt. 19:14); and he speaks of God's interest in children (Matt. 18:14)--once more a reference of everything to God to get it in its true perspective. How Jesus likes children!--for their simplicity (Luke 18:17), their intuition, their teachableness, we say. But was it not, perhaps, for far simpler and more natural reasons just because they were children, and little, and delightful? We forget his little brothers and sisters, or we eliminate them for theological purposes. Jesus lays quite an unexpected emphasis on sheer tenderness--on kindness to neighbour and stranger, the instinctive humanity that helps men, if it be only by the swift offer of a cup of cold water (Matt. 10:42). The Good Samaritan came as a surprise to some of his hearers (Luke 10:30). "It is our religion," said a Hindu to a missionary, to explain why he and other Hindus did not help to rescue a fainting man from the railway tracks, nor even offer water to restore him, when the missionary had hauled him on to the platform unaided. Not so the religion of Jesus--"bear ye one another's burdens, and so fulfil the law of Christ," wrote Paul (Gal. 6:2)--"pursue hospitality" (Rom. 12:13; the very word runs through the Epistles of the New Testament). And, as we shall see in a later chapter, the Last Judgement itself turns on whether a man has kindly instincts or not. Matthew quotes (12:20) to describe Jesus' own tenderness the impressive phrase of Isaiah (42:3), "A bruised reed shall he not break." If it is urged that such things are natural to man--"do not even the publicans the same?" (Matt. 5:46)--Jesus carries the matter a long way further. "Whosoever shall compel thee to go a mile, go with him twain" (Matt. 5:41). The man who would use such compulsion would be the alien soldier, the hireling of Herod or of Rome; and who would wish to cart him and his goods even one mile? "Go two miles," says Jesus--or, if the Syriac translation preserves the right reading, "Go two _extra_." Why? Well, the soldier is a man after all, and by such unsolicited kindness you may make a friend even of a government official--not always an easy thing to do--at any rate you can help him; God helps him; "be ye therefore perfect, even as your Father which is in heaven is perfect" (Matt. 5:48). Ordinary kindness and tenderness could hardly be urged beyond that point; and yet Jesus goes further still. He would have us _pray_ for those that despitefully use us (Matt. 5:44)--and in no Pharisaic way, but with the same instinctive love and friendliness that he always used himself. "Father, forgive them; for they know not what they do" (Luke 23:34). There are religions which inculcate the tolerance of wrong aiming at equanimity of mind or acquisition of merit. But Jesus implies on the contrary that in all this also the Christian _denies_ himself, does not seek even in this way to save his own soul, but forgets all about it in the service of others, though he finds by and by, with a start, that he has saved it far more effectually than he could have expected (Mark 8:35; Matt. 25:37, 40). The emphasis falls on our duty of kindness and tenderness to all men and women, because we and they are alike God's children. With his emphasis on tenderness we may group his teaching on forgiveness. He makes the forgiving spirit an antecedent of prayer--"when ye stand praying, forgive, if ye have aught against any; that your Father also which is in heaven may forgive you your trespasses" (Mark 11:25). "If thou bring thy gift to the altar, and there rememberest that thy brother hath aught against thee; leave there thy gift before the altar, and go thy way, first be reconciled to thy brother, and then come and offer thy gift" (Matt. 5:23, 24). The parable of the king and his debtor (Matt. 18:23), painfully true to human nature, brings out the whole matter of our forgiveness of one another into the light; we are shown it from God's outlook. The teaching as ever is Theocentric. To Peter, Jesus says that a man should be prepared to forgive his brother to seventy times seven--if anybody can keep count so far (Matt. 18:21-35). He sees how quarrels injure life, and alienate a man from God. Hence comes the famous saying: "Resist not evil; but whosoever shall smite thee on thy right cheek, turn to him the other also" (Matt. 5:39). He would have men even avoid criticism of one another (Matt. 7:1-5). Epigrams are seductive, and there is a fascination in the dissection of character; but there is always a danger that a clever characterization, a witty label, may conclude the matter, that a possible friendship may be lost through the very ingenuity with which the man has been labelled, who might have been a friend. It is not a small matter in Jesus' eyes, he puts his view very strongly (Matt. 5:22); and, as we must always remember, he bases himself on fact. We may lose a great deal more than we think by letting our labels stand between us and his words, by our habit of calling them paradoxes and letting them go at that. It is worth while to look at the type of character that he admires. Modern painters have often pictured Jesus as something of a dreamer, a longhaired, sleepy, abstract kind of person. What a contrast we find in the energy of the real Jesus--in the straight and powerful language which he uses to men, in the sweep and range of his mind, in the profundity of his insight, the drive and compulsiveness of his thinking, in the venturesomeness of his actions. How many of the parables turn on energy? The real trouble with men, he seems to say, is again and again sheer slackness; they will not put their minds to the thing before them, whether it be thought or action. Thus, for instance, the parable of the talents turns on energetic thinking and decisive action; and these are the things that Jesus admires--in the widow who will have justice (Luke 18:21)--in the virgins who thought ahead and brought extra oil (Matt. 25:4)--in the vigorous man who found the treasure and made sure of it (Matt. 13:44)--in the friend at midnight, who hammered, hammered, hammered, till he got his loaves (Luke 11:8)--in the "violent," who "take the Kingdom of Heaven by force" (Matt. 11:12; Luke 16:16)--in the man who will hack off his hand to enter into life (Mark 9:43). Even the bad steward he commends, because he definitely put his mind on his situation (Luke 16:8). As we shall see later on, indecision is one of the things that in his judgement will keep a man outside the Kingdom of God, that make him unfit for it. The matter deserves more study than we commonly give it. You must have a righteousness, he says, which exceeds the righteousness of the Pharisees (Matt. 5:20)--and the Pharisees were professionals in righteousness. His tests of discipleship illumine his ideal of character--Theocentric thinking--negation of self--the thought-out life. He will have his disciples count the cost, reckon their forces, calculate quietly the risks before them--right up to the cross (Luke 14:27-33)--like John Bunyan in Bedford Gaol, where he thought things out to the pillory and thence to the gallows, so that, if it came to the gallows, he should be ready, as he says, to leap off the ladder blindfold into eternity. That is the energy of mind that Jesus asks of men, that he admires in men. On the other side, he is always against the life of drift, the half-thought-out life. There they were, he says, in the days of Noah, eating and drinking, marrying, dreaming--and the floods came and destroyed them (Luke 17:27). So ran the old familiar story, and, says Jesus, it is always true; men will drift and dream for ever, heedless of fact, heedless of God--and then ruin, life gone, the soul lost, the Son of Man come, and "you yourselves thrust out" (Luke 13:28, with Matt. 25:10-13). It is quite striking with what a variety of impressive pictures Jesus drives home his lesson. There is the person who everlastingly says and does not do (Matt. 23:3)--who promises to work and does not work (Matt. 21:28)--who receives a new idea with enthusiasm, but has not depth enough of nature for it to root itself (Mark 4:6)--who builds on sand, the "Mr. Anything" of Bunyan's allegory; nor these alone, for Jesus is as plain on the unpunctual (Luke 13:25), the easy-going (Luke 12:47), the sort that compromises, that tries to serve God and Mammon (Matt. 6:24)--all the practical half-and-half people that take their bills quickly and write fifty, that offer God and man about half what they owe them of thought and character and action, and bid others do the same, and count themselves men of the world for their acuteness (Luke 16:1-8). And to do them justice, Jesus commends them; they have taken the exact measure of things "in their generation." Their mistake lies in their equation of the fugitive and the eternal; and it is the final and fatal mistake according to Jesus, and a very common one--forgetfulness of God in fact (Luke 12:20), a mistake that comes from _not_ thinking things out. Jesus will have men think everything out to the very end. "He never says: Come unto me, all ye who are too lazy to think for yourselves" (H. S. Coffin). It is energy of mind that he calls for--either with me or against me. He does not recognize neutrals in his war--"he that is not against us is for us" (Luke 9:50)--"he that is not with me is against me" (Matt. 12:30). Where does a man's _Will_ point him? That is the question. "Out of the abundance, the overflow, of the heart, the mouth speaketh" (Matt. 12:34). What is it that a man _wills_, purity or impurity (Matt. 5:28)? It is the inner energy that makes a man; what he says and does is an overflow from what is within--an overflow, it is true, with a reaction. It is what a man _chooses_, and what he _wills_, that Jesus always emphasizes; "God knoweth your hearts" (Luke 16:15). Very well then; does a man choose God? That is the vital issue. Does he choose God without reserve, and in a way that God, knowing his heart, will call a whole-hearted choice? St. Augustine, in a very interesting passage ("Confessions", viii. 9, 21), remarks upon the fact that, when the mind commands the body, obedience is instantaneous, but that when it commands itself, it meets with resistance. "The mind commands that the mind shall will--it is one and the same mind, and it does not obey." He finds the reason; the mind does not absolutely and entirely ("ex toto") will the thing, and so it does not absolutely and entirely command it. "There is nothing strange after all in this," he says, "partly to will, partly not to will; but it is a weakness of the mind that it does not arise in its entirety, uplifted by truth, because it is borne down by habit. Thus there are two Wills, because one of them is not complete." The same thought is to be traced in the teaching of Jesus. It is implied in what he says about prayer. There is a want of faith, a half-heartedness about men's prayers; they pray as Augustine says he himself did: "Give me chastity and continence, but not now" (Conf, viii. 7, 17). That is not what Jesus means by prayer--the utterance of the half-Will. Nor is it this sort of surrender to God that Jesus calls for--no, the question is, how thoroughly is a man going to put himself into God's hands? Does he mean to be God's up to the cross and beyond? Does he enlist absolutely on God's terms without a bargain with God, prepared to accept God's will, whatever it is, whether it squares with his liking or not? (cf. Luke 17:7-10). Are his own desires finally out of the reckoning? Does he, in fact, deny--negate--himself (Mark 8:34)? Jesus calls for disciples, with questions so penetrating on his lips. What a demand to make of men! What faith, too, in men it shows, that he can ask all this with no hint of diminished seriousness! Jesus is the great believer in men, as we saw in the choice of his twelve. To that group of disciples he trusts the supremest task men ever had assigned to them. Not many wise, not many mighty, Paul found at Corinth (1 Cor. 1:26); and it has always been so. Is it not still the gist of the Gospel that Jesus believes in the writer and the reader of these lines--trusts them with the propagation of God's Kingdom, incredible commission? Jesus was always at leisure for individuals; this was the natural outcome of his faith in men. What else is the meaning of his readiness to spend himself in giving the utmost spiritual truth--no easy task, as experience shows us--even to a solitary listener? If we accept what he tells us of God, we can believe that the individual is worth all that Jesus did and does for him, but hardly otherwise. His gift of discovering interest in uninteresting people, says Phillips Brooks, was an intellectual habit that he gave to his disciples. We think too much "like men"; he would have us "think like God," and think better of odd units and items of humanity than statesmen and statisticians are apt to do. It has been pointed out lately how fierce he is about the man who puts a stumbling-block in the way of even "a little one"--"better for him that a millstone were hanged about his neck, and he were cast into the sea"; no mere phrase--for when he draws a picture, he sees it; he sees this scene, and "better so--for him too!" is his comment (Mark 9:42). There was, we may remember, a view current in antiquity that when a man was drowned, his soul perished with his body, though I do not know if the Jews held this opinion. It is not likely that Jesus did. What is God's mind, God's conduct, toward those people whom men think they can afford to despise? "Be ye therefore perfect, even as your Father in heaven is perfect" (Matt. 5:48). And to whom did he say this? To the most ordinary people--to Peter and James and John; for all sorts of people he held up this impossible ideal of a perfection like God's. What a faith in man it implies! "All things are possible to him that believes" (Mark 9:9.3). Why should not _you_ believe? he says. His faith in the soul's possibilities is boundless, and in marked contrast with what men think of themselves. A man, for instance, will say that he has done his best; but nine times out of ten it means mere fatigue; he is not going to trouble to do any more. How _can_ a man know that he has done his best? The Gospel of Jesus comes with its message of the grace of God, and the power of God, to people who are stupid and middle-aged, who are absolutely settled in life, who are conscious of their limitations, who know they are living in a rut and propose to stick to it for the remainder of their days; and Jesus tells them in effect that he means to give them a new life altogether, that he means to have from them service, perfectly incredible to them. No man, he suggests, need be so inured to the stupidity of middle age but there may be a miraculous change in him. A great many people need re-conversion at forty, however Christian they have been before. This belief of his in the individual man and in the worth of the individual is the very charter of democracy. The original writings of William Tyndale, who first translated the New Testament from Greek into English, contain the essential ideas of democracy already in 1526--the outcome of familiar study of the Gospel. Jesus himself said of Herod: "Go and tell that fox" (Luke 13:32). Herod was a king, but he was not above criticism; and Christians have not failed at times to make the criticism of the great that truth requires. Jesus had no illusions about men; he sees the weak spots; he recognizes the "whited sepulchre" (Matt. 23:27). He is astonished at the unbelief of men and women (Mark 6:6). He does not understand why they cannot think (Mark 8:21), but he notes how they see and yet do not see, hear and do not understand (Matt. 13:13). He is impressed by their falsity, even in religion (Matt. 15:8). He knows perfectly well the evil of which the human heart is capable (Matt. 15:19). A man who steadily looks forward to being crucified by the people he is trying to help is hardly one of the absent-minded enthusiasts, mis-called idealists. There never was, we feel, one who so thoroughly looked through his friends, who loved them so much and yet without a shade of illusion. This brings us to the subject of the next chapter. In the meantime let us recall what he makes of the wasted life. "In thinking of the case," said Seeley. "they had forgotten the woman"--a common occurrence with those who deal in "cases." It was once severely said of the Head of a College that "if he would leave off caring for his students' souls and care for them, he would do better." Jesus does not forget the man in caring for his soul--he likes him. He is "the friend of publicans and sinners" (Luke 7:34); he eats and drinks with them (Mark 2:14). Let us remember again that these were taunts and were meant to sting; they were not conventional phrases. See how he can enter into the life of a poor creature. There is the wretched little publican, Zacchaeus (Luke 19:1-10)--a squalid little figure of a man, whom people despised. He was used to contempt--it was the portion of the tax-collector enlisted in Roman service against his own people. Jesus comes and sees him up in the tree; he instantly realizes what is happening and invites himself to the house of Zacchaeus as a guest; something passes between them without spoken word. The little man slides down the tree--not a proceeding that makes for dignity; and then, with all his inches, he stands up before the whole town, that knew him so well, in a new moral grandeur that adds cubits to his stature. "Half my goods," he says, "I give to the poor. If I have taken anything from any man by false accusation, he shall have it back fourfold." That man belonged to the despised classes. Jesus came into his life; the man became a new man, a pioneer of Christian generosity. Again, there is the woman with the alabaster box, the mere possession of which stamped her for what she was. It was simply a case of the wasted life. I have long wondered if she meant to give him only some of the ointment. A little of it would have been a great gift. But perhaps the lid of the box jammed, and she realized in a moment that it was to be all or nothing--she drew off her sandal and smashed the box to pieces. However she broke it, and whatever her reasons, Mark's words mean that it was thoroughly and finally shivered (Mark 14:3). Something had happened which made this woman the pioneer of the Christian habit of giving all for Jesus. The disciples said they had done so (Matt. 19:27), but they were looking for thrones in exchange (Mark 10:37); she was not. The thief on the cross himself becomes a pioneer for mankind in the Christian way of prayer. "Jesus, remember me!" he says (Luke 23:42). How is it that Jesus comes into the wasted life and makes it new? "One loving heart sets another on fire." With all his wide outlook on mankind, his great purpose to capture all men, Jesus is remarkable for his omission to devise machinery or organization for the accomplishment of his ends. The tares are left to grow with the wheat (Matt. 13:30)--as if Jesus trusted the wheat a good deal more than we do. Alive as he is to the evil in human nature, he never tries to scare men from it, and he seems to have been very little afraid of it. He believed in the power of good--because, after all, God is "Lord of the Harvest" (Matt. 9:38). He invents no special methods--a loving heart will hit the method needed in the particular case; the Holy Spirit will teach this as well as other things (Matt. 10:19, 20). How far he even organized his church, or left it to organize itself if it so wished, students may discuss. Would he have trusted even the best organized church as such? Does not what we mean by the Incarnation imply putting everything in the long run on the individual, quickened into new life by a new relation with God and taught a new love of men by Jesus himself? The heart of friendship and the heart of the Incarnation are in essence the same thing--giving oneself in frankness and love to him who will accept, and by them winning him who refuses. Has not this been the secret of the spread of the Gospel? The simplicity of the whole thing, and the power of it, grow upon us as we study them. But after all, as Tertullian said, simplicity and power are the constant marks of God's work--simplicity in method, power in effect ("de Baptismo", 2). CHAPTER VII JESUS' TEACHING UPON SIN "For clear-thinking ethical natures," writes a modern scholar, "for natures such as those of Jesus and St. Paul, it is a downright necessity to separate heaven and hell as distinctly as possible. It is only ethically worthless speculations that have always tried to minimize this distinction. Carlyle is an instance in our times of how men even to-day once more enthusiastically welcome the conception of hell as soon as the distinction between good and bad becomes all-important to them."[26] Here in strong terms a challenge is put to many of our current ideas. Is not this to revert to an outworn view of the Christian religion--to reassert its dark side, better forgotten, all the horrible emphasis on sin and its consequences introduced into the sunny teaching of Jesus by Paul of Tarsus, and alien to it? Before we answer this question in any direct way, it is worth while to realize for how many of the real thinkers, and the great teachers of mankind, this distinction between good and evil has been fundamental. They have not invented it as a theory on which to base religion, but they have found it in human life, one and all of them. If Walt Whitman or Swami Vivekananda overlook the difference between virtue and vice, and do honour to the courtesan, it simply means that they are bad thinkers, bad observers. The deeper minds see more clearly and escape the confusion into which the slight and quick, the sentimental, hurl themselves. Above all, when God in any degree grows real to a man, when a man seriously gives himself not to some mere vague "contemplation" of God but to the earnest study of God's ways in human affairs, and of God's laws and their working, the great contrasts in men's responses to God's rule become luminous. When God matters to a man, all life shows the result. Good and bad, right and wrong stand out clear as the contrast between light and darkness--they cannot be mistaken, and they matter--and matter for ever. They are no concern of a moment. Action makes character; and, until the action is undone again, the effect on character is not undone. Right and wrong are of eternal significance now in virtue of the reality of God. Gautama Buddha, for instance, and the greater Hindu thinkers, in their doctrine of Karma, have taught a significance inherent in good and evil, which we can only not call boundless. Buddha did this without any great consciousness of God; and many Indian thinkers have so emphasized the doctrine that it has taken all the stress laid on "Bhakti" by Ramanuja and others to restore to life a perspective or a balance, however it should be described, that will save men from utter despair. Nor is it Eastern thinkers only who have taught men the reality of heaven and hell. The poetry of Aeschylus is full of his great realization of the nexus between act and outcome. With all the humour and charm there is in Plato, we cannot escape his tremendous teaching on the age-long consequences of good and evil in a cosmos ordered by God. Carlyle, in our own days, realized the same thing--he learnt it no doubt from his mother; and learnt it again in London. In Mrs. Austen's drawing-room, with "Sidney Smith guffawing," and "other people prating, jargoning, to me through these thin cobwebs Death and Eternity sate glaring." "How will this look in the Universe," he asks, "and before the Creator of Man?" When someone in his old age challenged him with the question, "Who will be judge?"--(it is curious how every sapient inanity strikes, as on an original idea, on the notion that opinions differ, and therefore--apparently, if their thought has any consequence--are as good one as another)--Who will be judge? "Hell fire will be judge," said Carlyle, "God Almighty will be the judge now and always." There is a gulf between good and evil, and each is inexorably fertile of consequence. There is no escaping the issue of moral choice. That is the conclusion of men who have handled human experience in a serious spirit. As physical laws are deducible from the reactions of matter and force, and are found to be uniform and inevitable, fundamental in the nature of matter and force, so clear-thinking men in the course of ages have deduced moral laws from their observation of human nature, laws as uniform, inevitable and fundamental. In neither case has it been that men invented or imagined the laws; in both cases it has been genuine discovery of what was already existent and operative, and often the discovery has involved surprise. If Jesus had failed to see laws so fundamental, which other teachers of mankind have recognized, it is hardly likely that his teaching would have survived or influenced men as it has done. Mankind can dispense with a teacher who misses patent facts, whatever his charm. But there never was any doubt that Jesus was alive to the difference between right and wrong. His critics saw this, but they held that he confused moral issues, and that his distinctions in the ethical sphere were badly drawn. Jesus could not have ignored the problem of sin and forgiveness, even if he had wished to ignore it. To this the thought of mankind had been gravitating, and in Jewish and in Greek thought, conduct was more and more the centre of everything. For the Stoics morals were the dominant part of philosophy; but for our present purpose we need not go outside the literature of the New Testament. Sin was the keynote of the preaching of John the Baptist. It is customary to connect the mission of Jesus with that of John, and to find in the Baptist's preaching either the announcement of his Successor (as is said with most emphasis in the Fourth Gospel), or (as some now say) the impulse which drove Jesus of Nazareth into his public ministry. Whatever may be the historical connexion between them, it is as important for us at least to realize the broad gulf that separates them. They meet, it is true; both use the phrase "Kingdom of God," both preach repentance in view of the coming of the Kingdom; and we are apt to assume they mean the same thing; but Jesus took some pains to make it clear, though in the gentlest and most sympathetic way, that they did not. On the famous occasion, when John the Baptist sent two of his disciples to Jesus with his striking message: "Art thou he that should come? or look we for another?" (Luke 7:19-35; Matt. 11:1-19), Jesus, when the messengers were gone, spoke to the people about the Baptist. "What went ye out into the wilderness for to see? A reed shaken with the wind? A man clothed in soft raiment? A prophet? Yea, I say unto you, and much more than a prophet. Among those that are born of women there is not a greater prophet than John the Baptist, but he that is least in the Kingdom of God is greater than he." I am not sure which is the right translation, whether it is "he that is less, least, or little," and I do not propose to discuss it. The judgement is remarkable enough in any case, and the words of Jesus, as we have seen, have a close relation to real fact as he saw it. Why does he speak in this way? Our answer to this question, if we can answer it, will help us forward to the larger problem before us. But, for this, we shall have to study John with some care. There is a growing agreement among scholars that there is some confusion in our data as to John the Baptist. There are gaps in the record--for instance, how and why did the school of John survive as it did (Acts 18:25, 19:1-7)? And again there are, in the judgement of some, developments of the story. The Gospel, with varying degrees of explicitness, and St. Paul by inference (Acts 19:4) tell us that John pointed to "him which should come after him." Christians, at any rate, after the Resurrection, had no doubt that this was Jesus. Whether John was as definite as the narratives now represent him to have been, has been doubted in view of his message to Jesus. But that is not our present subject. We are concerned less with John as precursor than as teacher and thinker. Even if our data are defective, still enough is given us to let us see a very striking and commanding figure. We have a picture of him, his dress, his diet, his style of speech, his method of action--in every way he is a signal and arresting man. The son of a priest, he is an ascetic, who lives in the wilderness, dresses like a peasant, and eats the meanest and most meagre of food--a man of the desert and of solitude. And the whole life reacts on him and we can see him, lean and worn, though still a young man, a keen, rather excitable spirit--in every feature the marks of revolt against a civilization which he views as an apostasy. Luke, using a phrase from the Old Testament, says, "The word of God came upon John in the wilderness" (Luke 3:2). Luke leans to Old Testament phrase, and here is one that hits off the man to the very life. Jesus himself confirms Luke's judgement (Mark 11:29-33). The Word of the Lord has come on this ascetic figure, and he goes to the people with the message; he draws their attention and they crowd out to see him. He makes a great sensation. He is not like other men--for Jesus quotes their remark that "he had a devil" (Luke 7:33)--a rough and ready way of explaining unlikeness to the average man. When he sees his congregation his words are not conciliatory; he addresses them as a "generation of vipers" (Luke 3:7); and his text is the "wrath to come." Jesus asks whether they went out to see a reed shaken by the wind, or someone dressed like a courtier--the last things to which anyone would compare John. There was nothing supple about him, as Herod found, and Herodias (Mark 6:17-20); he was not shaken by the wind; there was no trimming of his sails. The austerity of his life and the austerity of his spirit go together, and he preached in a tone and a language that scorched. He preached righteousness, social righteousness, and he did it in a great way. He brought back the minds of his people, like Amos and others, to God's conceptions and away from their own. Crowds of people went out to hear him (Mark 1:5). And he made a deep impression on many whose lives needed amendment (Matt. 21:26, 32; Luke 20:6).[27] We have the substance of what he said in the third chapter of St. Luke; how he told the tax-collectors to be honest and not make things worse than they need be; the soldiers to do violence to no man and accuse no man falsely, and to be content with their wages; and to ordinary people he preached humanity: "He that hath two coats, let him impart to him that hath none; and he that hath meat, let him do likewise." It may be remarked of John, and it is true also of Jesus, that neither attacked the absent nor inveighed against economic conditions, as some modern preachers do with, let us say, capitalists and the morality of other nations. Neither says a word against the Roman Empire. Slavery is not condemned explicitly even by Jesus, though he gave the dynamic that abolished it. The practical guidance that John gave, he gave in response to men's inquiries. Like an Old Testament prophet (cf. Amos 3:2), John tore to tatters any plea that could be offered that his listeners were God's chosen people, the children of Abraham. Does God want children of Abraham?--John pointed to the stones on the ground, and said, if God wanted, he could make children of Abraham out of them; a word and he could have as many children of Abraham as he wished. It was something else that God sought. "John," writes the historian Josephus a generation later, "was a good man, and commanded the Jews to exercise virtue both in justice toward one another and piety towards God, and so to come to baptism; for so baptism would be acceptable to God if they made use of it, not to excuse certain sins, but for the purification of the body, provided that the soul was thoroughly purified beforehand by righteousness."[28] This interpretation of John's baptism makes it look very like the baptisms and other purificatory rites of the heathen. The Gospels attribute to John a message, richer and more powerful, but essentially the same; and the criticism of Jesus confirms the account. The great note in his preaching is judgement; the Kingdom of God is coming, and it begins with judgement. Again, it is like Amos--"The axe is at the root of the tree," "His fan is in His hand." And as men listened to the man and looked at him--his intense belief in his message, backed up by a stern self-discipline, a whole life inspired, infused by conviction--they believed this message of the axe, the fan, and the fire. They asked and as we have seen received his guidance on the conduct of life; they accepted his baptism, and set about the amending of character (Matt. 21:32). Jesus makes it quite clear that he held John to be an entirely exceptional man, and that he had no doubt that John's teaching was from God (Matt. 21:32; Luke 7:35, 20:4; and, of course, Luke 7:26-28). It was all in the line of the great prophets; and the Fourth Gospel shows it us once more in the work of the Holy Spirit--"when he is come, he will reprove (convict) the world of sin, and of righteousness, and of judgement" (John 16:8). And yet, as Jesus says, there is all the difference in the world between his own Gospel and the teaching of the Baptist. In Mark's narrative (2:18) a very significant episode is recorded. John inculcated fasting, and his disciples fasted a great deal ("pykna", Luke 5:33); and once, Mark tells us, when they were actually fasting, they asked Jesus why his disciples did not do the same? Jesus' answer is a little cryptic at first sight. "Can the children of the bridechamber fast, while the bridegroom is with them?" Who fasts at the wedding feast, in the hour of gladness? And then he passes on to speak about the new patch on the old garment, the new wine in the old wine skins; and it looks as if it were not merely a criticism of John's disciples but of John himself. John, indeed, brings home with terrific force and conviction that truth of God which the prophets had preached before; but he leaves it there. He emphasizes once more the old laws of God, the judgements of God, but he brings no transforming power into men's lives. The old characters, the old motives more or less, are to be patched by a new fear. "Repent, repent," John cries, "the judgement is coming." And men do repent, and John baptises them as a symbol that God has forgiven them. But how are they to go on? What is the power that is to carry John's disciples through the rest of their lives? We are not in possession of everything that John says, but there is no indication that John had very much to say about any force or power that should keep men on the plane of repentance. It is our experience that we repent and fall again; what else was the experience of the people whom John baptised? What was to keep them on the new level--not only in the isolation of the desert, but in the ordinary routine of town and village? In John's teaching there is not a word about that; and this is a weakness of double import. For, as Jesus puts it, the new patch on the old garment makes the rent worse; it does not leave it merely as it was. If the "unclean spirit" regain its footing in a man, it does not come alone--"the last state of that man is worse than the first" (Luke 11:24-26). Jesus is very familiar with the type that welcomes new ideas and new impulses in religion and yet does nothing, grows tired or afraid, and relapses (Mark 4:17). Again, in John's teaching, as far as we have it, there is a striking absence of any clear word about any relation to God, beyond that of debtor and creditor, judge and prisoner on trial, king and subject. God may forgive and God will judge; but so far as our knowledge of John's teaching goes, these are the only two points at which man and God will touch each other; and these are not intimate relations. There is no promise and no gladness in them; no "good news." John taught prayer--all sorts of people teach prayer; but what sort of prayer? It has been remarked of the Greek poet, Apollonius Rhodius, that his heroes used prayers, but their prayers were like official documents. Of what character were the prayers that John taught his disciples? None of them survive; but there is perhaps a tacit criticism of them in the request made to the New Teacher: "Teach us to pray, as John taught his disciples" (Luke 11:1). One feels that the men wanted something different from John's prayers. Great and strenuous prayers they may have been, but in marked contrast to the prayers of Jesus and his followers, because of the absence in John's message of any strong note of the love and tenderness of God. Finally, the very righteousness that John preaches with such fire and energy is open to criticism. Far more serious than the righteousness of the Pharisees, stronger in insight and more generous in its scope, it fails in the same way; it is self-directed. It aims at a man's own salvation, and it is to be achieved by a man's own strength in self-discipline, with what little help John's system of prayer and fasting may win for a man from God. John fails precisely where his strength is greatest and most conspicuous. His theme is sin; his emphasis all falls on sin; but his psychology of sin is insufficient, it is not deep enough. The simple, strenuous ascetic did not realize the seriousness of sin after all--its deep roots, its haunting power, its insidious charm. St. Paul saw far deeper into it "I am carnal, sold under sin. What I hate that do I. The good that I would, I do not; but the evil which I would not, that I do. I see a law in my members bringing me into captivity to the law of sin. O wretched man that I am! Who shall deliver me from the body of this death?" (Rom. 7:14-24). Sin, in John's thought, is contumacy or rebellion against the law of God; he does not look at it in relation to the love of God--a view of it which gives it another character altogether. Nor has John any great conception of forgiveness--a man, he thinks, may win it by "fruits worthy of repentance" (Luke 3:8). Here again Paul is the pioneer in the universal Christian experience that fruits of repentance can never buy God's forgiveness. That is God's gift. That forgiveness may cost a man much--an amended life, the practices of prayer and fasting and almsgiving--John conceives; but we are not led to think that he thought of what it might cost God. John has no evangel, no really good news, with gladness and singing in it (1 Peter 1:8). When we return to the teaching of Jesus, we find that he draws a clear and sharp line between right and wrong. He indicates that right is right to the end of all creation, and wrong is wrong up to the very Judgement Throne of God (Matt. 25). He views these things, as the old phrase puts it, "sub specie aeternitatis", from the outlook of eternity. Right and wrong do not meet at infinity. There is no higher synthesis that can make them one and the same thing. Everything with Jesus is Theocentric, and until God changes there will be no very great change in right and wrong. Partly because he uses the language of his day, partly because he thinks as a rule in pictures, his language is apt to be misconstrued by moderns. But the central ideas are clear enough. "How are you to escape the judgement of Gehenna?" he asks the Pharisees (Matt. 23:33; the subjunctive mood is worth study). It is not a threat, but a question. There yawns the chasm; with your driving, how do you think you can avoid disaster? He warns men of a doom where the worm dies not and the fire is not quenched; a man will do well to sacrifice hand, foot or eye, to save the rest of himself from that (Mark 9:43-48). But a more striking picture, though commonly less noticed, he draws or suggests in talk at the last supper. "Simon, Simon, behold Satan asked for you to sift you as wheat, but I prayed for thee, that thy faith fail not; and thou, when thou comest back, strengthen thy brethren" (Luke 22:31, 32). The scene suggested is not unlike that at the beginning of the Book of Job, or that in the Book of Zechariah (chap. 3). There is the throne of God, and into that Presence pushes Satan with a demand--the verb in the Greek is a strong one, though not so strong as the Revised Version suggests. Satan "made a push to have you." "But I prayed for thee." To any reader who has any feeling or imagination, what do these short sentences mean? What can they mean, from the lips of a thinker so clear and so serious, and a friend so tender? What but unspeakable peril? The language has for us a certain strangeness; but it shows plainly enough that, to Jesus' mind, the disciples, and Peter in particular, stood in danger, a danger so urgent that it called for the Saviour's prayer. So much it meant to him, and he himself tells Peter what he had realized, what he had done, in language that could not be mistaken or forgotten. To the nature of the danger that sin involves, we shall return. Meanwhile we may consider what Jesus means by sin before we discuss its consequences. "The Son of Man," says Jesus, in a sentence that is famous but still insufficiently studied, "is come to seek and to save that which is lost" (Luke 19:10). Our rule has been to endeavour to give to the terms of Jesus the connotation he meant them to carry. The scholar will linger over the "Son of Man"--a difficult phrase, with a literary and linguistic history that is very complicated. For the present purpose the significant words are at the other end of the sentence. What does Jesus mean by "lost"? It is a strong word, the value of which we have in some degree lost through familiarity. And whom would he describe as "lost"? We have once more to recall his criticism of Peter--that Peter "thought like a man and not like God" (Mark 8:33)--and to be on our guard lest we think too quickly and too slightly. We may remark, too, that for Jesus sin is not, as for Paul and theologians in general, primarily an intellectual problem. He does not use the abstraction Sin as Paul does. But the clear, steady gaze turned on men and women misses little. There are four outstanding classes, whom he warns of the danger of hell in one form or other. To begin, there is the famous description of the Last Judgement (Matt. 25:31-46)--a description in itself not altogether new. Plenty of writers and thinkers had described the scene, and the broad outlines of the picture were naturally common property; yet it is to these more or less conventional traits that attention has often been too exclusively devoted. Jesus, however, altered the whole character of the Judgement Day scene by his account of the principles on which the Judge decides the cases brought before him. On the right hand of the Judge are--not the Jews confronting the Gentiles on the left--nor exactly the well-conducted and well-balanced people who get there in Greek allegories--but a group of men and women who realize where they are with a gasp of surprise. How has it come about? The Judge tells them: "I was an hungered and ye gave me meat," and the rest of the familiar words. But this does not quite settle the question. Embarrassment rises on their faces--is it a mistake? One of them speaks for the rest: "Lord, when saw we thee an hungered and fed thee?" They do not remember it. There is something characteristic there of the whole school of Jesus; these people are "children of fact," honest as their Master, and they will not accept heaven in virtue of a possible mistake. And it appears from the Judge's answer that such instinctive deeds go further than men think, even if they are forgotten. Wordsworth speaks of the "little nameless unremembered acts of kindness and of love" that are "the best portion of a good man's life."[29] The acts of kindness were forgotten just because they were instinctive, but, Jesus emphasizes the point, they are decisive; they come, as another of his telling phrases suggests, from "the overflow of the heart," and they reveal it. With the people on the left hand it was the other way. They were fairly well in possession of their good records, but they had missed the decisive fact--they were instinctively hard. Such people Jesus warns. So familiar are his words that there is a danger of our limiting them to their first obvious meaning. Eighty years ago Thomas Carlyle looked out on the England he knew, and remarked that it was strange that the great battle of civilized man should be still the battle of the savage against famine, and with that he observed that the people were "needier than ever of inward sustenance." Is there a warning in this picture of the people on the left hand that applies to deeper things than physical hunger? A warning to those who do not heed another's need of "inward sustenance," of spiritual life, of God? It looks likely. Otherwise there is a risk of our declining upon a "Social Righteousness" that falls a long way short of John the Baptist's, and does less for any soul, our own or another's. The second class warned by Jesus consists of several groups dealt with in the Sermon on the Mount--people whose sin is not murder or adultery, but merely anger and the unclean thought--not the people who actually give themselves away, like the publicans and harlots--but those who would not be sorry to have that ring of Gyges which Plato described, who would like to do certain things if they could, who at all events are not unwilling to picture what they would wish to do, if it were available, and meanwhile enjoy the thought (Matt. 5:21, 22, 27-29). Here St. Paul can supply commentary with his suggestion that one form of God's condemnation is where he gives up a man to his own reprobate mind (Romans 1:28--the whole passage is worth study in the Greek). The mind, in Paul's phrases, becomes darkened (Rom. 1:21), stained (Titus 1:15), and cauterized (1 Tim. 4:2), invalidated for the discharge of its proper functions, as a burnt hand loses the sense of touch, or a stained glass gives the man a blue or red world instead of the real one. Blindness and mutilation are better, Jesus said, than the eye of lust (Matt. 5:28). How different from the moralists, for whom sin lies in action, and all actions are physical! The idle word is to condemn a man, not because it is idle, but because, being unstudied, it speaks of his heart and reveals, unconsciously but plainly, what he is in reality (Matt. 12:36). Thus it is that what comes out of the mouth defiles a man (Matt. 15:18)--with the curious suggestion, whether intended or not, that the formulation of a floating thought gives it new power to injure or to help. That is true; impression loose, as it were, in the mind, mere thought--stuff, is one thing; formulated, brought to phrase and form, it takes on new life and force; and when it is evil, it does defile, and in a permanent way. Marcus Aurelius has a very similar warning (v. 16)--"Whatever the colour of the thoughts often before thy mind, that colour will thy mind take. For the mind is dyed (or stained) by its thoughts." "Phantazesthai" and "phantasiai" are the words--and they suggest something between thoughts and imaginations--mental pictures would be very near it. The third group whom Jesus warned, the most notorious of all, was the Pharisee class. They played at religion--tithed mint and anise and cumin, and forgot judgement and mercy and faith (Matt. 23:23). Jesus said that the Pharisee was never quite sure whether the creature he was looking at was a camel or a mosquito--he got them mixed (Matt. 23:24). Once we realize what this tremendous irony means, we are better able to grasp his thought. The Pharisee was living in a world that was not the real one--it was a highly artificial one, picturesque and charming no doubt, but dangerous. For, after all, we do live in the real world--there is only one world, however many we may invent; and to live in any other is danger. Blindness, that is partial and uneven, lands a man in peril whenever he tries to come downstairs or to cross the street--he steps on the doorstep that is not there and misses the real one. He is involved in false appearances at every turn. And so it is in the moral world--there is one real, however many unreals there are, and to trust to the unreal is to come to grief on the real. "The beginning of a man's doom," wrote Carlyle, "is that vision be withdrawn from him." "Thou blind Pharisee!" (Matt. 23:26). The cup is clean enough without; it is septic and poisonous within--and from which side of it do you drink, outside or inside? (Matt. 23:25). As we study the teaching of Jesus here, we see anew the profundity of the saying attributed to him in the Fourth Gospel, "The truth shall make you free" (John 8:32). The man with astigmatism, or myopia, or whatever else it is, must get the glasses that will show him the real world, and he is safe, and free to go and come as he pleases. See the real in the moral sphere, and the first great peril is gone. Nothing need be said at this point of the Pharisee who used righteousness and long prayers as a screen for villainy. Probably his doom was that in the end he came to think his righteousness and his prayers real, and to reckon them as credit with a God, who did not see through them any more than he did himself. It is a mistake to over-emphasize here the devouring of widow' houses by the Pharisee (Matt. 23:14), for it was no peculiar weakness of his; publicans and unjust judges did the same. Only the publican and the unjust judge told themselves no lies about it. The Pharisee lied--lying to oneself or lying to another, which is the worse? The more dangerous probably is lying to oneself, though the two practices generally will go together in the long run. The worst forms of lying, then, are lying to oneself and lying about God; and the Pharisee combined them, and told himself that, once God's proper dues of prayer and tithe were paid, his treatment of the widow and her house was correct. Hence, says Jesus, he receives "greater damnation" (A.V.)--or judgement on a higher scale ("perissoteron krima"). The Pharisees were men who believed in God--only that with his world, they re-created him (as we are all apt to do for want of vision or by choice); but what is atheism, what can it be, but indifference to God's facts and to God's nature? If religion is union with God, in the phrase we borrow so slightly from the mystics, how can a man be in union with God, when the god he sees is not there, is a figment of his own mind, something different altogether from God? Or, if we use the phrase of the Old Testament. prophet and of Jesus himself, if religion is vision of God, what is our religion, if after all we are not seeing God at all, but something else--a dummy god, like that of the Pharisees, some trifling martinet who can be humbugged--or, to come to ourselves, a majestic bundle of abstract nouns loosely tied up in impersonality? For all such Jesus has a caution. Indifference to God's facts leads to one end only. We admit it ourselves. There are those who scold Bunyan for sending Ignorance to hell, but we omit to ask where else could Ignorance go, whether Bunyan sent him or not. Ignorance, as to germs or precipices or what not, leads to destruction "in pari materia"; in the moral sphere can it be otherwise? This serves in some measure to explain why Jesus is so tender to gross and flagrant sinners, a fact which some have noted with surprise. Surely it is because publican and harlot have fewer illusions; they were left little chance of imagining their lives to be right before God. What Jesus thought of their hardness and impurity we have seen already, but heedless as they were of God's requirements of them, they were not guilty of the intricate atheism of the Pharisees. Further, whether it was in his mind or not, it is also true that the frankly gross temptations do bring a man face to face with his own need of God, as the subtler do not; and so far they make for reality. The fourth group are those who cannot make up their minds. "No man, having put his hand to the plough, and looking back, is fit for the Kingdom of God" (Luke 9:62). The word is an interesting one ("euthetos"), it means "handy" or "easy to place." (The word is used of the salt not "fit" for land or dunghill (Luke 14:35), and the negative of the inconvenient harbour (Acts 27:12).) This man is not adapted for the Kingdom of God; he is not easy to place there. Like the man who saved his talent but did not use it (Matt. 25:24), he is not exactly bad; but he is "no good," as we say. Jesus conceives of the Kingdom of God as dynamic, not static; state or place, condition or relation, it implies work, as God himself implies work. He holds that truth is not a curiosity for the cabinet but a tool in the hand; that God's earnest world is no place for nondescript, and that there is only one region left to which they can drift. What part or place can there be in the Kingdom of Heaven--in a kingdom won on Calvary--for people who cannot be relied on, who cannot decide whether to plough or not to plough, nor, when they have made up their mind, stick to it? Jesus cannot see. (What a revelation of the force and power of his own character!) These, then, are the four classes whom Jesus warns, and it is clear from the consideration of them that his view of sin is very different from those current in that day. Men set sin down as an external thing that drifted on to one like a floating burr--or like paint, perhaps--it could be picked off or burnt off. It was the eating of pork or hare--something technical or accidental; or it was, many thought, the work of a demon from without, who could be driven out to whence he came. Love and drunkenness illustrated the thing for them--a change of personality induced by an exterior force or object, as if the human spirit were a glass or a cup into which anything might be poured, and from which it could be emptied and the vessel itself remain unaffected. Jesus has a deeper view of sin, a stronger psychology, than these, nor does he, like some quick thinkers of to-day, put sin down to a man's environment, as if certain surroundings inevitably meant sin. Jesus is quite definite that sin is nothing accidental--it is involved in a man's own nature, in his choice, it comes from the heart, and it speaks of a heart that is wrong. When we survey the four groups, it comes to one central question at last: Has a man been in earnest with himself about God's dealings with him? Hardness and lust make a man play the fool with human souls whom God loves and cares for--a declaration of war on God himself. Wilful self-deception about God needs no comment; to shilly-shally and let decision slide, where God is concerned, is atheism too. In a word, what is a man's fundamental attitude to God and God's facts? That is Jesus' question. Sin is tracked home to the innermost and most essential part of the man--his will. It is no outward thing, it is inward. It is not that evil befalls us, but that we are evil. In the words of Edward Caird, "the passion that misleads us is a manifestation of the same ego, the same self-conscious reason which is misled by it," and thus, as Burns puts it, "it is the very 'light from heaven' that leads us astray." The man uses his highest God-given faculties, and uses them against God. But this is not all. Many people will agree with the estimate of Jesus, when they understand it, in regard to most of these classes; perhaps they would urge that in the main it is substantially the same teaching as John the Baptist's, though it implies, as we shall see, a more difficult problem in getting rid of sin. Jesus goes further. He holds up to men standards of conduct which transcend anything yet put before mankind. "Be ye therefore perfect," he says, "even as your Father which is in heaven is perfect" (Matt. 5:48). When we recall what Jesus teaches of God, when we begin to try to give to "God" the content he intended, we realize with amazement what he is saying. He is holding up to men for their ideal of conduct the standard of God's holiness, of God's love and tenderness. Everything that Jesus tells us of God--all that he has to say of the wonderful and incredible love of God and of God's activity on behalf of his children--he now incorporates in the ideal of conduct to which men are called. John's conceptions of righteousness grow beggarly. Here is a royal magnificence of active love, of energetic sympathy, tenderness, and self-giving, asked of us, who find it hard enough to keep the simplest commandments from our youth up (Mark 10:20). We are to love our enemies, to win them, to make peace, to be pure--and all on the scale of God. And that this may not seem mere talk in the air, there is the character and personality of Jesus, embodying all he asks of us--bringing out new wonders of God's goodness, the ugliness and evil of sin, and the positive and redemptive beauty of righteousness. The problem of sin and forgiveness becomes more difficult, as we think of the positive ideals which we have not begun to try to reach. Let us sum up what it involves. Jesus brings out the utter bankruptcy to which sin reduces men. They become "full of hypocrisy and lawlessness" (Matt. 23:28), so depraved that they are like bad trees, unproductive of any but bad fruit (rotten, in the Greek, Matt. 7:17); the very light in them is darkness, and how great darkness (Matt. 6:23). They are cut off from the real world, as we saw, and lose the faculties they have abused--the talent is taken away (Matt. 25:28); "from him that hath not, shall be taken away even that which he hath" (Matt. 25:29). The nature is changed as memory is changed, and the "overflow of the heart" in speech and act bears witness to it. The faculty of choice is weakened; the interval in which inhibition--to use our modern term--is possible, grows shorter. The instincts are perverted and the whole being is disorganized. In a word, all that Jesus connotes by "the Kingdom of God" is "taken from them" (Matt. 21:43), and nothing left but "outer darkness" (Matt. 22:13). The vision of God is not for the impure (Matt. 5:8). Meanwhile sin is not a sterile thing, it is a leaven (Matt. 16:6). If our modern medical language may be applied--and Jesus used the analogy of medicine in this very case (Mark 2:17)--sin is septic. In the first place, all sin is anti-social--an invasion "ipso facto" of the rights of others. The man who sins either takes away what is another's--a man's goods, a widow's house, or a woman's purity--or he fails to give to others what is their due, be it, in the obvious field, the aid the Good Samaritan rendered to the wounded and robbed man by the roadside (Luke 10:33), or, in the higher sphere, truth, sympathy, help in the maintenance of principle, or in the achievement of progress and development (cf. Matt. 25:43). Sin is the repudiation of the concepts of law, duty, and service, in a word, of the love on God's scale which God calls men to exercise. And its fruits are, above all, its dissemination. Injustice, a historian has said, always repays itself with frightful compound interest. If a man starts to debauch society, his example is quickly followed; and it comes to hatred. What, we asked, did Jesus mean by "lost"? This, above all, that sin cuts a man adrift from God. In the parable of the Prodigal Son this is brought out (Luke 15:11-32). There the youth took from his father all he could get, and then deliberately turned his back on him forever; he went into a far country, out of his reach, outside his influence, and beyond the range of his ideas, and he devoted his father's gifts to precisely what would sadden and trouble his father most. And then came bankruptcy, final and hopeless. There was no father available in the far country; he had to live without him, and it came to a life that was not even human--a life of solitude, a life of beasts. Jesus draws it, as he does most things, in picture form, using parable. Paul puts the same in directer language; sin reduces men to a position where they are "alienated from the life of God" (Eph. 4:18; Col. 1:21), "without God in the world" (Eph. 2:12), "enemies of God" (Rom. 5:10; Col. 1:21); but he does not say more than Jesus implies. Paul's final expression, "God gave them up" (thrice in Rom. 1:24, 26, 28), answers to the Judge's word, in Jesus' picture, "Depart from me" (Matt. 25:41). O Wedding-guest, this soul hath been Alone on a wide, wide sea: So lonely 'twas, that God himself Scarce seeméd there to be. So Jesus handles the problem of sin, but that is only half the story, for there remains the problem of Redemption. The treatment of sin is far profounder and truer than John the Baptist or any other teacher has achieved; and it implies that Jesus will handle Redemption in a way no less profound and effective. If he does not, then he had better not have preached a gospel. If, in dealing with sin, he touches reality at every point, we may expect him in the matter of Redemption to reach the very centre of life.[30] How else can he, with his serious view of sin, say to a man, "Thy sins are forgiven thee"? (Mark 2:5). But it is quite clear from our records that, while Jesus laid bare in this relentless way the ugliness and hopelessness of sin, he did not despair: his tone is always one of hope and confidence. The strong man armed may find a stronger man come upon him and take from him the panoply in which he trusted (Luke 11:21, 22). There is a great gulf that cannot be crossed (Luke 16:26)--yes, but if the experience of Christendom tells us anything, it tells us that Jesus crossed it himself, and did the impossible. "The great matter is that Jesus believed God was willing to take the human soul, and make it new and young and clean again." But the human soul did not believe it, till Jesus convinced it, and won it, by action of his own. "The Son of Man came to seek and to save that which was lost"; and he did not come in vain. CHAPTER VIII THE CHOICE OF THE CROSS By what they said, I perceived that he had been a great warrior, and had fought with and slain him that had the power of death (Hebrews 2:14), but not without great danger to himself, which made me love him the more--"Pilgrims Progress", Part I The subject before us is one of the greatest difficulty. Why Jesus chose the cross has exercised the thought of the Christian world ever since he did so. He told his disciples beforehand of what lay before him, of what he was choosing, but it was long before they realized that he meant any such thing. The cross was to them a strange idea, and for a long time they did not seriously face the matter. Once the cross was an accomplished fact, Christians could not, and did not wish to, avoid thinking out what had meant so much to their Master; but it has mostly been with a sense of facing a mystery that in some measure eluded them, with a feeling that there is more beyond, something always to be attained hereafter. A very significant passage in St. Mark (10:32) gives us a glimpse of a moment on Jesus' last journey to Jerusalem. It is a sentence which one could hardly imagine being included in the Gospel, if it did not represent some actual memory, and a memory of significance. It runs something like this: "And they were in the way, going up to Jerusalem, and Jesus was moving on before them; and they began to wonder; and as they followed they began to be afraid." He is moving to Jerusalem with a purpose. They do not understand it. He is wrapped in thought; and, as happens when a man's mind is working strongly, his pace quickens, and they find themselves at a distance behind him. And then something comes over them--a sense that there is something in the situation which they do not understand, a strangeness in the mind. They realize, in fact, that they are not as near Jesus as they had supposed. And, as they follow, the wonder deepens into fear. Anyone who will really try to grapple with this problem of the cross will find very soon the same thing. The first thing that we need to learn, if our criticism of Jesus is to be sound, is that we are not at all so near him as we have imagined. He eludes us, goes far out beyond what we grasp or conceive; and I think the education of the Christian man or woman begins anew, when we realize how little we know about Jesus. The discovery of our ignorance is the beginning of knowledge. Plato long ago said that wonder is the mother of philosophy, and he was right. John Donne, the English poet, went farther, and said: "All divinity is love or wonder." When a man then begins to wonder about Jesus Christ in earnest, Jesus comes to be for him a new figure. Historical criticism has done this for us; it has brought us to such a point that the story of these earliest disciples repeats itself more closely in the experience of their followers of these days than in any century since the first. We begin along with them on the friendly, critical, human plane, and with them we follow him into experiences and realizations that we never expected. It may be summed up in the familiar words of the English hymn, Oh happy band of pilgrims, If onward ye will tread With Jesus as your fellow, To Jesus as your head. These men begin with him, more or less on a footing of equality; or, at least, the inequality is very lightly marked. Afterwards it is emphasized; and they realize it with wonder and with fear, and at last with joy and gratitude. We may begin by trying steadily to bring our minds to some keener sense of what it was that he chose. To say, in the familiar words, that he chose the cross, may through the very familiarity of the language lead us away from what we have to discover. We have, as we agreed, to ask ourselves what was his experience. What, then, did his choice involve? It meant, of course, physical pain. There are natures to whom this is of little account, but the sensitive and sentient type, as we often observe, dreads pain. He, with open eyes, chose physical pain, heightened to torture, not escaping any of the suffering which anticipation gives--that physical horror of death, that instinctive fear of annihilation, which nature suggests of itself. He took the course of action that would most severely test his disciples; one at least revolted, and we have to ask what it meant to Jesus to live with Judas, to watch his face, to recognize his influence in the little group--yes, and to try to win him again and to be repelled. "He learnt by the things that he suffered" that Judas would betray him; but the hour and place and method were not so evident, and when they were at last revealed--what did it mean to be kissed by Judas? Do we feel what he felt in the so-called trials--or was he dull and numbed by the catastrophe? How did he bear the beating of triumphant hatred upon a forsaken spirit? How did the horrible cry, "Crucify him! crucify him!" break on his ears--on his mind? When "the Lord turned and looked upon Peter" (Luke 22:61), what did it mean? How did he know that Peter was there, and what led him to turn at that moment? Was there in the Passion no element of uneasiness again about the eleven on whom he had concentrated his hopes and his influence--the eleven of whom it is recorded, that "they all forsook him, and fled" (Mark 14:50)? No hint of dread that his work might indeed be undone? What pain must that have involved? What is the value of the Agony in the Garden, of the cry, "Eloi, Eloi, lama sabachthani" (Mark 15:34)? When we have answered, each for himself, these questions, and others like them that will suggest themselves--answered them by the most earnest efforts of which our natures are capable--and remembered at the end how far our natures fall short of his, and told ourselves that our answers are insufficient--then let us recall, once more, that he chose all this. He chose the cross and all that it meant. Our next step should be to study anew his own references to what he intends by it, to what he expects to be its results and its outcome. First of all, then, he clearly means that the Kingdom of Heaven is something different from anything that man has yet seen. The Kingdom of Heaven is, I understand, a Hebrew way of saying the Kingdom of God--very much as men to-day speak of Providence, to avoid undue familiarity with the term God, so the Jews would say Heaven. There were many who used the phrase in one or other form; but it is always bad criticism to give to the words of genius the value or the connotation they would have in the lips of ordinary people. To a great mind words are charged with a fullness of meaning that little people do not reach. The attempt has been made to recapture more of his thoughts by learning the value given to some of the terms he uses as they appear in the literature of the day, and of course it has been helpful. But we have to remember always that the words as used by him come with a new volume of significance derived from his whole personality. Everything turns on the connotation which he gives to the term God--that is central and pivotal. What this new Kingdom of God is, or will be, he does not attempt fully to explain or analyse. In the parables, the treasure-finder and the pearl merchant achieve a great enrichment of life; so much they know at once; but what do they do with it? How do they look at it? What does it mean to them? He does not tell us. We only see that they are moving on a new plane, seeing life from a new angle, living in a fuller sense. What the new life means in its fullness, we know only when we gain the deeper knowledge of God. He suggests that this new knowledge comes to a man from God himself--flesh and blood do not reveal it (Matt. 16:17). "Unto you it is given," he says on another occasion, "to know the mystery of the Kingdom of Heaven" (Mark 4:11), and he adds that there are those who see and do not see; they are outside it; they have not the alphabet, we might say, that will open the book (cf. Rev. 5:3). He makes it clear at every point in the story of the Kingdom of God that there is more beyond; and he means it. It is to be a new beginning, an initiation, leading on to what we shall see but do not yet guess, though he gives us hints. We shall not easily fathom the depth of his idea of the new life, but along with it we have to study the width and boldness of his purpose. This new life is not for a few--for "the elect," in our careless phrase. He looks to a universal scope for what he is doing. It will reach far outside the bounds of Judaism. "They shall come from the east and from the west, and from the north and from the south, and shall sit down in the Kingdom of God" (Luke 13:29). "Wheresoever this gospel shall be preached throughout the whole world," he says (Mark 14:9). "My words shall not pass away" (Luke 21:33). All time and all existence come under his survey and are included in his plan. The range is enormous. And this was a Galilean peasant! As we gradually realize what he has in mind, must we not feel that we have not grasped anything like the full grandeur of his thought? He makes it plain, in the second place, that it will be a matter for followers, for workers, for men who will watch and wait and dare--men with the same abandonment as himself. He calls for men to come after him, to come behind him (Mark 1:17, 10:21; Luke 9:59). He emphasizes that they must think out the terms on which he enlists them. He does not disguise the drawbacks of his service. He calls his followers, and a very personal and individual call it is. He calls a man from the lake shore, from the nets, from the custom house. In the third place, he clearly announces an intention to achieve something in itself of import by his death. There are those who would have us believe that his mind was obsessed with the fixed idea of his own speedy return on the clouds, and that he hurried on to death to precipitate this and the new age it was to bring. References to such a coming are indeed found in the Gospels as we have them, but we are bound to ask whence they come, and to inquire how far they represent exactly what he said; and then, if he is correctly reported, to make sure that we know exactly what he means. Those who hold this view fail to relate the texts they emphasize with others of a deeper significance, and they ignore the grandeur and penetration and depth of the man whom they make out such a dreamer. He never suggests himself that his death is to force the hand of God. He himself is to be the doer and achiever of something. We have been apt to think of him as a great teacher, a teacher of charm and insight, or as the great example of idealism, "who saw life steadily and saw it whole." He lived, some hold, the rounded and well-poised life, the rhythmic life. No, that was Sophocles. He is greater. Here is one who penetrates far deeper into things. His treatment of the psychology of sin itself shows how much more than an example was needed. Here, as in the other chapters, but here above all we have to remember the clearness of his insight, his swiftness of penetration, his instinct for fact and reality. He means to do, to achieve, something. It is no martyr's death that he incurs. His death is a step to a purpose. "I have a baptism to be baptised with," he says (Luke 12:50). "The Son of Man," he said, "is come to seek and to save that which was lost" (Luke 19:10). In discussing in the previous chapter what he meant by the term "lost," our conclusion was that for Jesus sin was far more awful, far more serious, than we commonly realize. We saw also that so profound and true a psychology of sin must imply a view of redemption at least as profound, a promise of a force more than equal to the power of sin--that "violence of habit" of which St. Augustine speaks. If the Son of Man is to save the lost, and if the lost are in danger so real, it follows that he must think of a thoroughly effective salvation, and that its achievement will be no light or easy task. "To give one's life as a ransom for many," says a modern teacher, "is of no avail, if the ransom is insufficient." What, then, and how much, does he mean by "to save," and how does he propose to do it? When the soul of man or woman has gone wrong in any of the ways discussed by Jesus--in hardness or anger, in impurity, in the refusal to treat God and his facts seriously--when the consequences that Jesus recognized have followed--what can be done to bring that soul back into effective relation with the God whom it has discarded and abandoned? That is the problem that Jesus had to face, and most of us have not thought enough about it. First of all, how far does Jesus understand salvation to take a man? The ancient creed of the Church includes the article of belief in "the forgiveness of sins." There are those who lightly assume that this means, chiefly or solely, the remission of punishment for evil acts. This raises problems enough of itself. The whole doctrine of "Karma", vital to Buddhism and Hinduism, is, if I understand it aright, a strong and clear warning to us that the remission of punishment is no easy matter. Not only Eastern thinkers, but Western also, insist that there is no avoidance of the consequences of action. Luther himself, using a phrase half borrowed from a Latin poet, says that forgiveness is "a knot worthy of a God's aid"--"nodus Deo vindice dignus".[31] But in any case escape from the consequences of sin, when once we look on sin with the eyes of Jesus, is of relatively small importance. There are two aspects of the matter far more significant. We have seen how Jesus regards sin as at once the cause and consequence of a degeneration of the moral nature, and as a repudiation of God. Two questions arise: Is it possible to recover lost moral quality and faculty? Is it possible for those incapacitated by sin to regain, or to enjoy, relation with God? When we think, with Jesus, of sin first and foremost in connexion with God, and take the trouble to try to give his meaning to his words, forgiveness takes on a new meaning. We have to "think like God," he says (Mark 8:33); and perhaps God is in his thoughts neither so legal nor so biological as we are; perhaps he does not think first of edicts or of biological and psychological laws. God, according to Jesus, thinks first of his child, though of course not oblivious of his own commands and laws. Forgiveness, Jesus teaches or suggests, is primarily a question between Father and son, and he tries to lead us to believe how ready the Father is to settle that question. Once it is settled, we find, in fact, Father and son setting to work to mend the past. The evil seed has been sown and the sad crop must be reaped, the man who sowed it has to reap it--that much we all see. But Jesus hints to us that God himself loves to come in and help his reconciled son with the reaping; many hands make light work, especially when they are such hands. And even when the crop is evil in the lives of others, the most horrible outcome of sin, God is still in the field. The prodigal, when he returns, is met with a welcome, and is gradually put in possession of what he has lost--the robe, the shoes, the ring; and it all comes from his being at one with his Father again (Luke 15:22ff.). The Son of Man, historically, has again and again found the lost--the lost gifts, the lost faculties, the lost charms and graces--and given them back to the man whom he had also found and brought home to God. Let us once more try to get our thoughts Theocentric as Jesus' are, and our problems become simpler, or at least fewer. God's generosity in forgiveness, God's love, he emphasizes again and again. Will a man take Jesus at his word, and commit himself to God? That is the question. Once he will venture on this step, what pictures Jesus draws us of what happens! The son is home again; the bankruptcy, the hideous solitude, the life among animals, bestial, dirty and empty, and haunted with memories--all those things are past, when once the Father's arms are round his neck, and his kiss on his cheek. He is no more "alienated from the life of God" (Eph. 4:18; Col. 1:21), "without God in the world" (Eph. 2:12), an "enemy of God" (Rom. 5:10); he was lost and is found, and the Father himself, Jesus says, cries: "Let us be merry" ("Euphranthomen"). If we hesitate about it, Jesus calls us once more to "think like God," and tells us other stories, with incredible joy in them--"joy in the presence of the angels of God over one sinner that repenteth." We must go back to his central conception of God, if we are to realize what he means by salvation. St. Augustine (Conf., viii. 3) brings out the value of these parables, by reminding us how much more we care for a thing that has been ours, when we have lost it and found it again. The shepherd has a new link with his sheep lost and found again, a new story of it, a shared experience; it is more his than ever. And Jesus implies that when a man is saved, he is God's again, and more God's own than ever before; and God is glad at heart. As for the man; a new power comes into his heart, and a new joy; and with God's help, in a new spirit of sunshine, he sets about mending the past in a new spirit and with a new motive--for love's sake now. If the fruit of the past is to be seen, as it constantly is, in the lives of others, he throws himself with the more energy into God's work, and when the Good Shepherd goes seeking the lost, he goes with him. Christian history bears witness, in every year of it, to what salvation means, in Jesus' sense. Punishment, consequences, crippled resources--no, he does not ask to escape them now; all as God pleases; these are not the things that matter. Life is all to be boundless love and gratitude and trust; and by and by the new man wakes up to find sin taken away, its consequences undone, the lost faculties restored, and life a fuller and richer thing than ever it was before. Somehow so, if we read the Gospels aright, does Jesus conceive of Salvation. To achieve this for men is his purpose; and in order to do it, as we said before, his first step is to induce men to re-think God. Something must be done to touch the heart and to move the will of men, effectively; and he must do it. With this purpose in his mind--let us weigh our words here, and reflect again upon the clearness of his insight into life and character, into moral laws, the laws of human thought and feeling, upon his profound intelligence and grasp of what moves and is real, his knowledge (a strong word to use, but we may use it) of God--with this purpose in his mind, thought out and understood, he deliberately and quietly goes to Jerusalem. He "steadfastly set his face to go to Jerusalem" (Luke 9:51). "I must walk," he said, "to-day and to-morrow and the day following; for it cannot be that a prophet perish out of Jerusalem" (Luke 13:33). To Jerusalem he goes. We may admit that with his view of the psychology of sin, he must have a serious view of redemption. But why should that involve the cross? That is our problem. But while we try to solve it, we must also remember that behind a great choice there are always more reasons than we can analyse. A man makes one of the great choices in life. What has influenced him? Ten to one, if you ask him, he does not know. Nothing else, he will say, seemed feasible; the thing was borne in on me, it came to me: reasons? He cannot tabulate reasons; the thing, he says, was so clear that I was a long way past reasons. And yet he was right; he had reasons enough. What parent ever analysed reasons for loving his children, or would tabulate them for you? Jesus does not explain his reasons. We find, I think, that we are apt to have far more reasons for doing what we know is wrong, than we have for doing what we know is right. We do not want reasons for doing what is right; we know it is right, and there is an end of it. Once again, Jesus, with his clear eye for the real, sees what he must do. The salvation of the lost means the cross for himself. But why? we ask again. We must look a little closer if we are to understand him. We shall not easily understand him in all his thoughts, but part of our education comes from the endeavour to follow him here, to "be with him," in the phrase with which we began. First of all we may put his love of men. He never lost the individual in the mass, never lost sight of the human being who needed God. The teacher who put the law of kindness in the great phrase, "Go with him twain" (Matt. 5:41), was not likely to limit himself in meeting men's needs. He was bound to do more than we should expect, when he saw people whom he could help; and it is that spirit of abounding generosity that shows a man what to do (Luke 6:38). Everywhere, every day, he met the call that quickened thought and shaped purpose. He walked down a street; and the scene of misery or of sin came upon him with pressure; he could not pass by, as we do, and fail to note what we do not wish to think of. He knows a pressure upon his spirit for the man, the child, the woman--for the one who sins, the one who suffers, the other who dies. They must be got in touch with God. He sits with his disciples at a meal--the men whom he loved--he watches them, he listens to them. Peter, James, John, one after the other, becomes a call to him. They need redemption; they need far more than they dream; they need God. That pressure is there night and day--it becomes intercession, and that grows into inspiration. Our prayers suffer, some one has said, for our want of our identification with the world's sin and misery. He was identified with the world's sin and misery, and they followed him into his prayer. It becomes with him an imperative necessity to effect man's reconciliation with God. All his experience of man, his love of man, call him that way. The second great momentum comes from the love of God, and his faith in God. Here, again, we must emphasize for ourselves his criticism of Peter: "You think like a man and not like God" (Mark 8:33). We do not see God, as Jesus did. He must make plain to men, as it never was made plain before, the love of God. He must secure that it is for every man the greatest reality in the world, the one great flaming fact that burns itself living into every man's consciousness. He sees that for this God calls him to the cross, so much so that when he prays in the garden that the cup may pass, his thoughts range back to "Thy will" (Matt. 26:42). It is God's Will. Even if he does not himself see all involved, still God knows the reason; God will manage; God wishes it. "Have faith in God," he used to say (Mark 11:22). This faith which he has in God is one of the things that take him to the cross. In the third place, we must not forget his sense of his own peculiar relation to God. If it is safe to rely on St. Mark's chronological date here, he does not speak of this until Peter has called him the Messiah. He accepts the title (Mark 8:29). He also uses the description, Son of Man, with its suggestions from the past. He forgives sins. He speaks throughout the Gospels as one apart, as one distinct from us, closely as he is identified with us--and all this from a son of fact, who is not insane, who is not a quack, whose eyes are wide open for the real; whose instinct for the ultimate truth is so keen; who lives face to face with God. What does it mean? This, for one thing, that most of us have not given attention enough to this matter. I have confined myself in these chapters to the Synoptic Gospels, with only two or three references to the Fourth Gospel, and on the evidence of the Synoptic Gospels, taken by themselves, it is clear that he means a great deal more than we have cared to examine. He is the great interpreter of God, and it is borne in upon him that only by the cross can he interpret God, make God real to us, and bring us to the very heart of God. That is his purpose. The cross is the outcome of his deepest mind, of his prayer life. It is more like him than anything else he ever did. It has in it more of him. Whoever he was, whoever he is, whatever our Christology, one fact stands out. It was his love of men and women and his faith in God that took him there. Was he justified? was he right? or was it a delusion? First of all, let us go back to a historic event. The resurrection is, to a historian, not very clear in its details. But is it the detail or the central fact that matters? Take away the resurrection, however it happened, whatever it was, and the history of the Church is unintelligible. We live in a rational world--a world, that is, where, however much remains as yet unexplained, everything has a promise of being lucid, everything has reason in it. Great results have great causes. We have to find, somewhere or other, between the crucifixion and the first preaching of the disciples in Jerusalem, something that entirely changed the character of that group of men. Something happened, so tremendous and so vital, that it changed not only the character of the movement and the men--but with them the whole history of the world. The evidence for the resurrection is not so much what we read in the Gospels as what we find in the rest of the New Testament--the new life of the disciples. They are a new group. When it came to the cross, his cross, they ran away. A few weeks later we find them rejoicing to be beaten, imprisoned and put to death (Acts 5:41). What had happened? What we have to explain is a new life--a new life of prayer and joy and power, a new indifference to physical death, in a new relation to God. That is one outcome of the cross and of what followed; and as historians we have to explain it. We have also to explain how the disciples came to conceive of another Galilean--a carpenter whom they might have seen sawing and sweating in his shop, with whom they tramped the roads of Palestine, whom they saw done to death in ignominy and derision--sitting at the right hand of God. Taken by itself, we might call such a belief mere folly; but too much goes with it for so easy an explanation. The cross was not the end. As Mr. Neville Talbot has recently pointed out in his book, "The Mind of the Disciples", if the story stopped with the cross, God remains unexplained, and the story ends in unrelieved tragedy. But it does not end in tragedy; it ends--if we can use the word as yet--in joy and faith and victory; and these--how should we have seen them but for the cross? They are bound up with his choice of the cross and his triumph over it all. Death is not what it was--"the last line of all," as Horace says. Life and immortality have been brought to light (2 Tim. 1:10). "The Lamb of God taketh away the sin of the world." So we read at the beginning of the Fourth Gospel, and the historical critic may tell us that he does not think that John the Baptist said it. None the less, it is a wonderful summary of what Jesus has done, especially wonderful if we think of it being written fifty or sixty years after the crucifixion. For, as we survey the centuries, we find that the Lamb of God has taken away the sin of the world--to a degree that no one can imagine who has not studied the ancient world. Those who know the heathen world intimately will know best the difference he has made. All this new life, this new joy, this new victory over death and sin is attached to the living and victorious Son of God. The task of Paul and the others is, as Dr. Cairns says, "re-thinking everything in the terms of the resurrection." It is the new factor in the problem of God, so to speak--the new factor which alters everything that relates to God. That is saying a great deal, but when we look at Christian history, is it saying too much? But still our first question is unanswered; why should it have been the cross? One thinker of our day has suggested that, after all, suffering is a language intelligible to the very simplest, while its meaning is not exhausted by the deepest. The problem of pain is always with us. And he chose pain. He never said that pain is a good thing; he cured it. But he chose it. The ancient world stumbled on that very thing. God and a Godlike man, their philosophers said, are not susceptible to pain, to suffering. That was an axiom, very little challenged. Then if Jesus suffered, he was not God; if he was God, he did not suffer. The Church denied that, just as the Church to-day rejects another hasty antithesis about pain, that comes from New England. He chose pain, and he knew what he was choosing. Then let us be in no hurry about refusing it, but let us look into it. He chose it--that is the greatest fact known to us about pain. Again, the death of Christ reveals sin in its real significance, in its true perspective, outside the realm of accident and among the deepest things of God, "sub specie aeternitatia". Men count themselves very decent people; so thought the priests and the Pharisees, and they were. There is nothing about them that one cannot find in most religious communities and in all governing classes: the sense of the value of themselves, their preconceptions and their judgements--a strong feeling of the importance of the work they have to do, along with a certain reluctance to face strange facts, and some indifference as to what happens to other people if the accepted theory of the Cause or the State require them to suffer. There is nothing about Pilate and Herod, and the Pharisees and the priests, that is very different from ourselves. But how it looks in front of the cross! We begin to see how it looks in the sight of God, and that alters everything; it upsets all our standards, and teaches us a new self-criticism. "You think like man, and not like God," said Jesus (Mark 8:33). The cross reveals God most sympathetically. We see God in the light of the fullest and profoundest and tenderest revelation that the world has had. "My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?" that is the cry of Jesus on the cross. I have sometimes thought there never was an utterance that reveals more amazingly the distance between feeling and fact. That was how he felt--worn out, betrayed, spat upon, rejected. We feel that God was more there than ever. As has been said, if it is not God, it is nothing. "God," says Paul, "was in Christ, reconciling the world unto himself" (2 Cor. 5:19). He chose the cross; and in choosing it, Christians have always felt, he revealed God; and that is the centre of the great act of Redemption. But there is a condition antecedent to understanding the cross. We have, as we agreed, to ask ourselves, what is the experience which led him to think as he did? In the simpler language of the Gospels, quite plain and easy to understand, the call to follow comes first--the call to deeper association with Jesus Christ in his love for men. Do not our consciences tell us that, if we really loved people as Jesus does, if we understood them as sympathetically and cared as much for them, the cross would be far more intelligible to us? But if, in plain fact, we do not see why we should bear the cross for others, why we should deny and obliterate self on this scale for the salvation of men--how, I ask, to people of such a mind should Jesus be intelligible? It is not to be expected. In no other sphere would one dream of it. When a man avows that he does not care for art or poetry, who would wish to show him poem or picture? How should a person, who does not care for men, understand the cross? Deeper association, then, with Jesus in his love of men, in his agony, in his trust in God--that is the key to all. As we agreed at the very beginning, we have to know him before we can understand him. It all depends in the long run on one thing; and that we find in the verse with which we started: "And as they followed, they began to be afraid." But they followed. We can understand their fear. It comes to a man in this way. If Jesus crucified means anything like what the Church has said, and has believed; if God is in that man of Nazareth reconciling the world to Himself; if there is real meaning in the Incarnation at all; if all this language represents fact; "then," he may say, "I am wholly at a loss about everything else." A man builds up a world of thought for himself--we all do--a scheme of things; and to a man with a thought-out view of the world, it may come with an enormous shock to realize this incredible idea, this incredible truth, of God in Christ. Those who have dwelt most on it, and value it most, may be most apt to understand what I mean by calling it incredible. Think of it. It takes your breath away. If that is true, does not the whole plan of my life fall to pieces--my whole scheme of things for the world, my whole body of intellectual conceptions? And the man to whom this happens may well say he is afraid. He is afraid, because it is so strange; because, when you realize it, it takes you into a new world; you cannot grasp it. A man whose instinct is for truth may hesitate--will hesitate about a conception like this. "Is it possible," he will ask himself, "that I am deluded?" And another thought rises up again and again, "Where will it take me?" We can understand a man being afraid in that way. I do not think we have much right _not_ to be afraid. If it is the incarnation of God, what right have we not to be afraid? Then, of course, a man will say that to follow Christ involves too much in the way of sacrifice. He is afraid on lower grounds, afraid of his family, afraid for his career; he hesitates. To that man the thing will be unintelligible. The experience of St. Augustine, revealed in his "Confessions", is illuminative here. He had intellectual difficulties in his approach to the Christian position, but the rate of progress became materially quicker when he realized that the moral difficulties came first, that a practical step had to be taken. So with us--to decide the issue, how far are we prepared to go with Jesus? Have we realized the experience behind his thought? The rule which we laid down at the beginning holds. How far are we prepared to go in sharing that experience? That will measure our right to understand him. Once again, in the plainest language, are we prepared to follow, as the disciples followed, afraid as they were? Where is he going? Where is he taking them? They wonder; they do not know; they are uneasy. But when all is said, the figure on the road ahead of them, waiting for them now and looking round, is the Jesus who loves them and whom they love. And one can imagine the feeling rising in the mind of one and another of them: "I don't know where he is going, or where he is taking us, but I must be with him." There we reach again what the whole story began with--he chose twelve that they might "be with him." To understand him, we, too, must be with him. What takes men there? After all, it is, in the familiar phrase, the love of Jesus. If one loves the leader, it is easier to follow him. But, whether you understand him or whether you don't, if you love him you are glad that he chose the cross, and you are glad that you are one of his people. CHAPTER IX THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH IN THE ROMAN EMPIRE Imperial Rome governed the whole of the Mediterranean world,--a larger proportion and a greater variety of the human race than has ever been under one government. So far as numbers go, the Russian Empire to-day, the Chinese and the British, each far exceed it; for the population of the world is vastly larger than it was in Rome's days. But there was a peculiar unity about the Roman Empire, for it embraced, as men thought, all civilized mankind. It was known that, far away in the East, there were people called Indians, who had fought with Alexander the Great, but there was little real knowledge of them. Beyond India, there were vague rumours of a land where silk grew on the leaves of the trees. But civilized mankind was under the control of Rome. It was one rule of many races, many kingdoms, princedoms, cities, cantons, and tribes--a wise rule, a rule that allowed the maximum of local government and traditional usage: Rome not merely conquered but captured men all over the world; ruled them, as a poet said, like a mother, not a queen, and bound them to herself. Men were eager, not so much to shake off her yoke, as to be Romans; and from the Atlantic to the Euphrates men, not of Roman blood, were proud to bear Roman names and to be Roman citizens. "I was free born," said St. Paul, not without a touch of satisfaction (Acts 22:25-28). A general peace prevailed through the Roman world--a peace that was new to mankind. There was freedom of intercourse; one of the boasts made by the writers of the Roman Empire is of this new freedom to travel, to go anywhere one pleased. Piracy on the sea, brigandage on the land, had been put down, and there was a very great deal of travel. The Roman became an inveterate tourist. He went to the famous scenes of Asia Minor, to Troy above all--to "sunny Rhodes and Mitylene"--to Egypt. Merchants went everywhere. And there was a fusing of cultures, traditions, and creeds, all over the Mediterranean world. Centuries before, Alexander the Great had struck out the splendid idea of the marriage of East and West. He secured it by breaking down the Persian Empire, and making one Empire from the Adriatic to this side of the Sutlej or Bias. He desired to cement this marriage of East and West in a way of his own. He took three hundred captive princesses and ladies, and married them in a batch to Macedonian officers--a very characteristic piece of symbolism. But his idea was greater and truer than the symbol. The Roman marriage of the East and West was a more real thing, for behind it lay three centuries of growing intercourse and knowledge along Alexander's lines. In the sphere of religion we find it most clearly. There rises a resultant world-religion--a religion that embraces all the cults, all the creeds, and at last all the philosophies, in one great system. That religion held the world. It is true, there were exceptions. There was a small and objectionable race called Jews; there were possibly some Druids in Southern Britain; and here and there was a solitary atheist who represented no one but himself. These few exceptions were the freaks amongst mankind. Apart from them mankind was united in its general beliefs about the gods. The world had one religion. First of all, let us try to estimate the strength of this old Mediterranean Paganism. It was strong in its great traditions. Plutarch, who lived from about 50 A.D. to 117 or so, is our great exponent of this old religion. To him I shall have to refer constantly. He was a writer of charm, a man with many gifts. Plutarch's Lives was the great staple of education in the Renaissance--and as good a one, perhaps, as we have yet discovered, even in this age when there are so many theories of education with foreign names. Plutarch, then, writing about Delphi, the shrine and oracle of the god Apollo, said that men had been "in anguish and fear lest Delphi should lose its glory of three thousand years"--and Delphi has not lost it. For ninety generations the god has been giving oracles to the Greek world, to private people, to kings, to cities, to nations--and on all sorts of subjects, on the foundation of colonies, the declaration of wars, personal guidance and the hope of heirs. You may test the god where you will, Plutarch claimed, you will not find an instance of a false oracle. Readers of Greek history will remember another great writer of as much charm, five hundred years before, Herodotus, who was not so sure about all the oracles. But let us think what it means,--to look back over three thousand years of one faith, unbroken. Egyptian religion had been unchallenged for longer still, even if we allow Plutarch's three thousand years. The oldest remains in Egypt antedate, we are told, 4000 B.C., and all through history, with the exception of the solitary reign of Amen-Hotep III., Egypt worshipped the same gods, with additions, as time went on. Again an unbroken tradition. And how long, under various names, had Cybele, Mother of Gods, been worshipped in Asia? By our era all these religions were fused into one religion, of many cults and rites and ancient traditions; and the incredible weight of old tradition in that world is hard to overestimate. The old religion was strong in the splendour of its art and its architecture. The severe, beautiful lines of the Greek temple are familiar to us still; and, until I saw the Taj, I think I should have doubted whether there could be anything more beautiful. Architecture was consecrated to the gods, and so was art. You go to Delphi, said Plutarch, and see those wonderful works of the ancient artists and sculptors, as fresh still as if they had left the chisel yesterday, and they had stood there for hundreds of years, wonderful in their beauty. Think of some of the remains of the Greek art--of that Victory, for instance, which the Messenians set on the temple at Olympia in 421 B.C. She stood on a block of stone on the temple, but the block was painted blue, so that, as the spectator came up, he saw the temple and the angle of its roof, and then a gap of blue sky and the goddess just alighting on the summit of the temple. From what is left of her, broken and headless, but still beautiful, we can picture her flying through the air--the wind has blown her dress back against her, and you see its folds freshly caught by the breeze. And all this the artist had disentangled from a rough block of stone--so vivid was his conception of the goddess, and so sure his hand. There are those who say that the conventional picture of God of the great artists is moulded after the Zeus of Pheidias. Egypt again had other portrayals of the gods--on a pattern of her own, strange and massive and huge, far older. About six hundred years before Christ the Egyptian King, Psammetichos (Psem Tek), hired Greek soldiers and marched them hundreds of miles up the Nile. The Greek soldiers, one idle day, carved their names on the legs of the colossal gods seated at Abu Symbel. Their names are found there to-day. So old are these gods. The religion was strong in the splendour of its ceremony. Every year the Athenian people went to Eleusis in splendid procession to worship, to be initiated into the rites of the Earth-Mother and her virgin daughter, who had taught men the use of grain and the arts of farming-rites linked with an immemorial past, awful rites that gave men a new hope of eternal life. The Mother of the Gods, from Phrygia in Asia Minor, had her rites, too; and her cult spread all over the world. When the Roman poet, Lucretius, wants to describe the wonder and magic of the pageant of Nature in the spring-time he goes to the pomp of Cybele. The nearest thing to it which we can imagine is Botticelli's picture of the Triumph of Spring. Lucretius was a poet to whom the gods were idle and irrelevant; yet to that pageant he goes for a picture of the miraculous life of nature. More splendid still were the rites of the Egyptian Isis, celebrated all over the world. Her priests, shaven and linen-clad, carried symbols of an unguessed antiquity and magical power. They launched a boat with a flame upon it--on the river in Egypt, on the sea in Greece. All these cults made deep impressions on the worshippers, as our records tell us. The appeal of religious emotion was noticed by Aristotle, who remarked, however, that it was rather feeling than intellect that was touched--a shrewd criticism that deserves to be remembered still. The gods were strong in their actual manifestations of themselves. Apollo for ninety generations had spoken in Delphi. At Epidauros there was a shrine of Asclepias. Its monuments have been collected and edited by Dr. Caton of Liverpool. There sick men and women came, lived a quiet life of diet and religious ceremony, preparing for the night on which they should sleep in the temple. On that night the god came to them, they said, in that mood or state where they lay "between asleep and awake, sometimes as in a dream and then as in a waking vision--one's hair stood on end, but one shed tears of joy and felt light-hearted." Others said they definitely saw him. He came and told them what to do; on waking they did it and were healed; or he touched them then and there, and cured them as they lay. Some of the cures recorded on the monuments are perhaps strange to our ideas of medicine. One records how the god came to man dreadfully afflicted with dropsy, cut off his head, turned him upside down and let the fluid run out, and then replaced his head with a neat join. Some modern readers may doubt this story; but that the god did heal people, men firmly believed. We, too, may believe that people were healed, perhaps by living a healthy life in a quiet place, a life of regimen and diet; and perhaps faith-healing or suggestion played as strong a part as anything else. Even the Christians believed that these gods had a certain power; they were evil spirits. Not only the gods of the temples would manifest themselves of their grace. Every man had a guardian spirit, a "genius"; and by proper means he could be "compelled" to show himself visibly. The pupils of Plotinus conjured up his "genius", and it came--not a daemon, but a god. The right formula ("mantram") and the right stone in the hand--and a man had a wonderful power over the gods themselves. This was called "theurgy". But the great strength of this old religion was its infinite adaptability. It made peace with every god and goddess that it met. It adopted them all. As a French scholar has said, where there is polytheism there are no false gods. All the religions were fused and the gods were blended. The Roman went to Greece and identified Jupiter with Zeus; he went to Egypt and found him in Amun (Ammon); he went to Syria and found him in Baal. If the Jew had not been so foolish and awkward, there might have been a Jupiter Jehovah as well. It was a catholic faith, embracing everything--cult and creed and philosophy--strong in all the ways we have surveyed and in many more, above all because it was unchallenged. And yet, where is that religion to-day? That, to me, is one of the most significant questions in history--more so, the longer I stay in India. Men knew that that religion of Greece and Rome was eternal; yet it is utterly gone. Why? How _could_ it go? What conceivable power was there, I do not say, to bring it down, but to abolish it so thoroughly, that not a soul in Egypt worships Isis--how many even know her name?--not a soul in Italy thinks of Jove but as a fancy, and Pallas Athene in Athens itself is a mere memory? That is the problem, the historical problem, with which we have now to deal. First of all, let us look again, and more closely, at that old religion--we shall find in it at least four cardinal weaknesses. First, it stands for "the unexamined life," as Plato called it. "The unexamined life," he says, "is not liveable for a human being." A man, who is a man, must cross-examine life, must make life face up to him and yield its secrets. He must know what it means, the significance of every relation of life--father and child, man and wife, citizen and city, subject and king, man and the world--above all, man and God. We must examine and know. But this old religion stood by tradition and not reflection. There was no deep sense of truth. Plutarch admired his father, and he describes, with warm approval, how his father once said to a man: "That is a dangerous question, not to be discussed at all--when you question the opinion we hold about the gods, and ask reason and demonstration for everything." Such an attitude means mistrust, it means at bottom a fundamental unfaith. The house is beautiful; do not touch it; it is riddled by white ants, by dry rot, and it would fall. That is not faith; it is a strange confession; but all who hesitate at changes, I think, make that confession sooner or later. There is a line of Kabir which puts the essence of this: "Penance is not equal to truth, nor is there any sin like untruth." This was one of the essential weaknesses of that old religion--its fear, and the absence of a deep sense of truth. In the next place, there is no real association of morals with religion. The old stories were full of the adventures of Jupiter, or Zeus, with the heroines, mortal women, whom he loved. Of some 1900 wall paintings at Pompeii, examined by a German scholar and antiquary, some 1400 represent mythological subjects, largely the stories of the loves of Jupiter. The Latin dramatist Terence pictures the young man looking at one of these paintings and saying to himself, "If Jupiter did it, why should not I?" Centuries later we find Augustine quoting that sentence. It has been said that few things tended more strongly against morality than the stories of the gods preserved by Homer and Hesiod. Plato loved Homer; so much the more striking is his resolve that in his "Republic" there should be no Homer. Men said: "Ah, but you don't understand; those stories are allegories. They do not mean what they say; they mean something deeper." But Plato said we must speak of God always as he is; we must in no case tell lies about God "whether they are allegories or whether they are not allegories." Plato, like every real thinker, sees that this pretence of allegory is a sham. The story did its mischief whether it was allegory or not; it stood between man and God, and headed men on to wrong lines, turned men away from the moral standard. There was more. Every year, as we saw, men went to be initiated into the rites of Demeter at Eleusis, a few miles from Athens. And we read how one of the great Athenian orators, Lysias, went there and took with him to be initiated a harlot, with whom he was living, and the woman's proprietress--a squalid party; and they were initiated. Their morals made no difference; the priests and the goddesses offered no objection. In the temple of Aphrodite at Corinth there were women slaves dedicated to the goddess, who owned them, and who received the wages of their shame. With what voice could religion speak for morality in Corinth? At Comana in Syria (we read in Strabo the geographer, about the time of Christ) there was a temple where there were six thousand of these temple slaves. I say again, that is the unexamined life. God and goddess have nothing to say about some of the most sacred relations in life. God, goddess, priest, worshipper, never gave a thought to these poor creatures, dedicated, not by themselves, to this awful life--human natures with the craving of the real woman for husband and child, for the love of home, but never to know it. That was associated with religion; that was religion. There was always a minimum of protest from the Greek temples against wrong or for right. It is remarked, again and again, that all the great lessons came, not from the temples, not from the priests, but from the poets and philosophers, from the thinkers in revolt against the religion of their people. Curiously enough, even in Homer himself, it is plain that the heroes, the men, are on a higher moral plane than the gods; and all through Greek history the gods are a drag on morality. What a weakness in religion! The sense of wrong and right is innate in man; it may be undeveloped, or it may be deadened, but it is instinctive; and a religion which does not know it, or which finds the difference between right and wrong to lie in matters of taboo or ceremonial defilement, cannot speak to one of the deepest needs of the human heart, the need of forgiveness. There is no righteousness, in the long run, about these gods. In the third place, the religion has the common weakness of all polytheism. Men were afraid of the gods; there were thousands and thousands, hosts of them. At every turn you ran into one, a new one; you could never be certain that you would not offend some unknown god or goddess. Superstition was the curse of the day. You had to make peace with all these gods and goddesses--and not with them alone. For there was another class of supernatural beings, dangerous if unpropitiated, the daemons, the spirits that inhabited the air, that presided over life and its stages, that helped or hated the human soul, spiteful and evil half-divine beings, that sent illness, bad luck, madness, that stole the honours of the gods themselves and insisted on rituals and worship, often unclean, often cruel, but inevitable. A man must watch himself closely if he was to be safe from them all, if he was to keep wife and child and home safe. Superstition, men said, was the one curse of life that made no truce with sleep. A famous Christian writer of the second century, Tatian, speaks of the enormous relief that he found in getting away from the tyranny of ten thousand gods to be under a monarchy of One. A modern Japanese, Uchimura, said the same thing: "One God, not eight millions; that was joyful news to me." Fourthly, this religion took from the grave none of its terrors. There might be a world beyond, and there might not. At any rate, "be initiated," said the priests; "you will have to pay us something, but it is worth it." Prophets and quacks, said Plato, came to rich men's doors and made them believe that they could rid them of all alarm for the next world, by incantations and charms and other things, by a series of feasts and jollifications. So they said, and men did what they were told; but it did not take away the fear of death. From the first century onwards men began systematically to defend this old paganism. Plutarch wrote a series of books in its behalf. He brings in something like love of god for man. He speaks of "the friendly Apollo." But the weakness of Plutarch as an apologist is his weakness as biographer--he never really gets at the bottom of anything. In biography he gives us the characteristic rather than the character. Here he never faces the real issue. It is all defence, apology, ingenuity; but he defends far too much. He admits there are obscene rites; there had been human sacrifices; but the gods cannot have ordained them; daemons, who stole the names of gods, imposed these on men--not the gods; men practised them to avert the anger of daemons. The gods are good. Waiving the fact that he had not much evidence for this in the mythology, how was a man to distinguish god from daemon, to know which is which? He does not tell us. Again he speaks of the image of Osiris with three "lingams". He apologizes for it; he defends it; for the triplicity is a symbol of godhead, and it means that God is the origin of all life. Yes, but what that religion needed was a great reformer, who should have cut the religion clear adrift from idols of every kind, from the old mythology, from obscenity. It may very well be that such a reformer was unthinkable; even if he had appeared, he would have been foredoomed to fail, as the compromise of the Stoics shows. Plutarch and his kind did not attempt this. They loved the past and the old ways. At heart they were afraid of the gods and were afraid of tradition. Culture and charm will do a great deal, but they do not suffice for a religion--either to make one or to redeem it. The Stoics reached, I think, the highest moral level in that Roman world--great men, great teachers of morals, great characters; but as for the crowd, they said, let them go on in the religions of their own cities; what they had learnt from their fathers, let them do. So much for the ignorant; for us, of course, something else. That seems to be a fundamentally wrong defence of religion. It gets the proportions wrong. It means that we, who are people of culture, are a great deal nearer to God than the crowd. But if we realize God at all, we feel that we are none of us very far apart down here. The most brilliant men are amenable to the temptations of the savage and of the dock labourer. There was a further danger, little noticed at first, that life is apt to be overborne by the vulgar, the ignorant, if there is not a steady campaign to enlighten every man. The Roman house was full of slaves; they taught the children--taught them about gods and goddesses, from Syria, from Egypt, and kept thought and life and morals on a low plane. An ignorant public is, an unspeakable danger everywhere, but especially in religion. The last great system of defence was the New Platonism. It had not very much to do with Plato, except that it read him and quoted him as a great authority. The Neo-Platonists did not face facts as Plato did. They lived on quotations, on authority and fancy, great thinkers as some of them were. They pictured the universe as one vast unity. Far beyond all things is God. Of God man can form no conception. Think, they would say, of all the exalted and wonderful and beautiful concepts you can imagine; then deny them. God is beyond. God is beyond being; you can conceive of being, and therefore to predicate being of God is to limit him. You cannot think of God; for, if you could think of God, God would be in relation with you; God is insusceptible of relation with man. He neither wills, nor thinks of man, nor can man think of him. A modern philosopher has summed up their God as the deification of the word "not." This God, then, who is not, willed--no! not "willed"; he could not will; but whether he willed or did not will, in some way or other there was an emanation; not God, but very much of God; very divine, but not all God; from this another and another in a descending series, down to the daemons, and down to men. All that is, is God; evil is not-being. One of the great features of the system was that it guaranteed all the old religions--for the crowd; while for the initiated, for the esoteric, it had something more--it had mystic trance, mystic vision, mystic comprehension. Twice or three times, Plotinus, by a great leap away from all mortal things, saw God. In the meantime, the philosophy justified all the old rites. Side by side with this great defence were what are known as the Christian heresies. They are not exactly Christian. Groups of people endeavoured to combine Christianity with the old thought, with philosophy, theosophy, theurgy, and magic. They were eclectics; they compromised. The German thinker, Novalis, said very justly that all eclectics are sceptics, and the more eclectic the more sceptic. These mixtures could not prevail. But religions have, historically, a wonderful way of living in spite of their weaknesses--yes, and in spite of their apologetics. A religion may be stained with all sorts of evil, and may communicate it; and yet it will survive, until there is an alternative with more truth and more dynamic. The old paganism outlived Plato's criticisms and Plutarch's defences. For the great masses of people neither might have written. Into this world came the Christian Church. I have tried to draw the picture of the great pagan religion, with its enormous strength, its universal acceptance, its great traditions, its splendours of art and ceremony, its manifest proofs of its gods--everything that, to the ordinary mind, could make for reality and for power; to show how absolutely inconceivable it was that it could ever pass away. Then comes the Christian Church--a ludicrous collection of trivial people, very ignorant and very common; fishermen and publicans, as the Gospels show us, "the baker and the fuller," as Celsus said with a sneer. Yes, and every kind of unclean and disreputable person they urged to join them, quite unlike all decent and established religions. And they took the children and women of the family away into a corner, and whispered to them and misled them--"Only believe!" was their one great word. The whole thing was incredibly silly. Paul went to Athens, and they asked him there about his religion; and when he spoke to them about Jesus rising from the dead, they sniggered, and the more polite suggested "another day." Everybody knew that dead men do not rise. It was a silly religion. Celsus pictured the frogs in symposium round a swamp, croaking to one another how God forsakes the whole universe, the spheres of heaven, to dwell with us; we frogs are so like God; he never ceases to seek how we may dwell with him for ever; but some of us are sinners, so God will come--or send his son--and burn them up; and the rest of us will live with him for eternity. Is not that very like the Christian religion? Celsus asked. It has been replied that, if the frogs really could say this and did say this, then their statement might be quite reasonable. But our main purpose for the moment is to realize the utterly inconceivable absurdity of this bunch of Galilean fishermen--and fools and rascals and maniacs--setting out to capture the world. One of them wrote an Apocalypse. He was in a penal settlement on Patmos, when he wrote it. The sect was in a fair way of being stamped out in blood, as a matter of fact; but this dreamer saw a triumphant Church of ten thousand times ten thousand--and thousands of thousands--there were hardly as many people in the world at that time; the great Rome had fallen and the "Lamb" ruled. Imagine the amusement of a Roman pagan of 100 A.D. who read the absurd book. Yet the dream has come true; that Church has triumphed. Where is the old religion? Christ has conquered, and all the gods have gone, utterly gone--they are memories now, and nothing more. Why did they go? The Christian Church refused to compromise. A pagan could have seen no real reason why Jesus should not be a demi-god like Herakles or Dionysos; no reason, either, why a man should not worship Jesus as well as these. One of the Roman Emperors, a little after 200 A.D., had in his private sanctuary four or five statues of gods, and one of them was Jesus. Why not? The Roman world had open arms for Jesus as well as any other god or demi-god, if people would be sensible; but the Christian said, No. He would not allow Jesus to be put into that pantheon, nor would he worship the gods himself, not even the "genius" of the Emperor, his guardian spirit. The Christian proclaimed a war of religion in which there shall be no compromise and no peace, till Christ is lord of all; the thing shall be fought out to the bitter end. And it has been. He was resolved that the old gods should go; and they have gone. How was it done? Here we touch what I think one of the greatest wonders that history has to show. How did the Church do it? If I may invent or adapt three words, the Christian "out-lived" the pagan, "out-died" him, and "out-thought" him. He came into the world and lived a great deal better than the pagan; he beat him hollow in living. Paul's Epistles to the Corinthians do not indicate a high standard of life at Corinth. The Corinthians were a very poor sort of Christians. But another Epistle, written to the Corinthians a generation later, speaks of their passion for being kind to men, and of a broadened and deeper life, in spite of their weaknesses. Here and there one recognizes failure all along the line--yes, but the line advances. The old world had had morals, plenty of morals--the Stoics overflowed with morals. But the Christian came into the world, not with a system of morality--he had rules, indeed--"which," asks Tertullian, "is the ampler rule, Thou shalt not commit adultery, or the rule that forbids a single lustful look?"--but it was not rules so much that he brought into the world as a great passion. "The Son of God," he said, "loved me and gave himself for me. That man--Jesus Christ loved him, gave himself for him. He is the friend of my best Friend. My best Friend loves that man, gave himself for him, died for him." How it alters all the relations of life! Who can kill or rob another man, when he remembers whose hands were nailed to the Cross for that man? See how it bears on another side of morality. Tertullian strikes out a great phrase, a new idea altogether, when he speaks of "the victim of the common lust." Christ died for her--how it safeguards her and uplifts her! Men came into the world full of this passion for Jesus Christ. They went to the slave and to the temple-woman and told them: "The Son of God loved you and gave himself for you"; and they believed it, and rose into a new life. To be redeemed by the Son of God gave the slave a new self-respect, a new manhood. He astonished people by his truth, his honesty, his cleanness; and there was a new brightness and gaiety about him. So there was about the woman. They sang, they overflowed with good temper. It seemed as if they had been born again. As Clement of Rome wrote, the Holy Spirit was a glad spirit. The word used both by him and by St. Augustine is that which gives us the English word "hilarious." There was a new gladness and happiness about these people. "It befits Truth to laugh, because she is glad--to play with her rivals because she is free from fear," so said Tertullian. Of course, there were those who broke down, but Julian the Apostate, in his letters to his heathen priests, is a reluctant witness to the higher character of Christian life. And it was Jesus who was the secret of it. The pagan noticed the new fortitude in the face of death. Tertullian himself was immensely impressed with it. He had never troubled to look at the Gospels. Nobody bothered to read them unless they were converted already, he said. But he seems to have seen these Christian martyrs die. "Every man," he said, "who sees it, is moved with some misgiving, and is set on fire to learn the reason; he inquires and he is taught; and when he has learnt the truth, he instantly follows it himself as well." "No one would have wished to be killed, unless he was in possession of the truth." I think that is autobiography. The intellectual energy of the man is worth noting--his insistence on understanding, his instant resolution; such qualities, we saw, had won the admiration of Jesus. Here is a man who sacrifices a great career--his genius, his wit, his humour, fire, power, learning, philosophy, everything thrown at Christ's feet, and Christ uses them all. Then came a day when persecution was breaking out again. Some Christians were for "fleeing to the next city"--it was the one text in their Bible, he said. He said: "I stay here." Any day the mob might get excited and shout: "The Christians to the lions." They knew the street in which he lived, and they would drag him--the scholar, the man of letters and of imagination--naked through the streets; torn and bleeding, they would tie him to the stake in the middle of the amphitheatre and pile faggots round him, and there he would stand waiting to be burnt alive; or, it might be, to be killed by the beasts. Any hour, any day. "I stay here," he said. What does it cost a man to do that? People asked what was the magic of it. The magic of it was just this--on the other side of the fire was the same Friend; "if he wants me to be burnt alive, I am here." Jesus Christ was the secret of it. The Christians out-thought the pagan world. How could they fail to? "We have peace with God," said Paul. They moved about in a new world, which was their Father's world. They would go to the shrines and ask uncomfortable questions. Lucian, who was a pagan and a scoffer, said that on one side of the shrines the notice was posted: "Christians outside." The Christians saw too much. The living god in that shrine was a big snake with a mask tied on--good enough for the pagan; but the Christian would see the strings. Even the daemons they dismissed to irrelevance and non-entity. The essence of magic was to be able to link the name of a daemon with the name of one's enemy, to set the daemon on the man. "Very well," said the Christian, "link my name with your daemons. Use my name in any magic you like. There is a name that is above every name; I am not afraid." That put the daemons into their right place, and by and by they vanished, dropped out, died of sheer inanition and neglect. Wherever Jesus Christ has been, the daemons have gone. "There used to be fairies," said an old woman in the Highlands of Scotland to a friend of mine, "but the Gospel came and drove them away." I do not know what is going to keep them away yet but Jesus Christ. The Christian read the ancient literature with the same freedom of mind, and was not in bondage to it; he had a new outlook; he could criticize more freely. One great principle is given by Clement of Alexandria: "The beautiful, wherever it is, is ours, because it came from our God." The Christian read the best books, assimilated them, and lived the freest intellectual life that the world had. Jesus had set him to be true to fact. Why had Christian churches to be so much larger than pagan temples? Why are they so still? Because the sermon is in the very centre of all Christian worship--clear, definite Christian teaching about Jesus Christ. There is no place for an ignorant Christian. From the very start every Christian had to know and to understand, and he had to read the Gospels; he had to be able to give the reason for his faith. He was committed to a great propaganda, to the preaching of Jesus, and he had to preach with penetration and appeal. There they were loyal to the essential idea of Jesus--they were "sons of fact." They read about Jesus,[32] and they knew him, and they knew where they stood. This has been the essence of the Christian religion. Put that alongside of the pitiful defence which Plutarch makes of obscene rites, filthy images, foolish traditions. Who did the thinking in that ancient world? Again and again it was the Christian. He out-thought the world. The old religion crumbled and fell, beaten in thought, in morals, in life, in death. And by and by the only name for it was paganism, the religion of the back-country village, of the out-of-the-way places. Christ had conquered. "Dic tropoeum passionis, dic triumphalem Crucem", sang Prudentius--"Sing the trophy of the Passion; sing the all-triumphant Cross." The ancients thought that God repeated the whole history of the universe over and over again, like a cinema show. Some of them thought the kingdoms rise and fall by pure chance. No, said Prudentius, God planned; God developed the history of mankind; he made Rome for his own purposes, for Christ. What is the explanation of it? We who live in a rational universe, where real results come from real causes, must ask what is the power that has carried the Christian Church to victory over that great old religion. And there is another question: is this story going to be repeated? What is there about Shiva, Kali, or Shri Krishna that essentially differentiates them from the gods of Greece and Rome and Egypt? Tradition, legend, philosophy--point by point, we find the same thing; and we find the same Christian Church, with the same ideals, facing the same conflict. What will be the result? The result will be the same. We have seen in China, in the last two decades, how the Christian Church is true to its traditions; how men can die for Jesus Christ. In the Greek Church--a suffering Church--on the round sacramental wafer there is a cross, and in the four corners there are the eight letters, IE, XE, NI, KA, "Jesus Christ conquers." That is the story of the Christian Church in the Roman Empire. That is the story which, please God, we shall see again in India. "Jesus Christ conquers." CHAPTER X JESUS IN CHRISTIAN THOUGHT Jesus Christ came to men as a great new experience. He took them far outside all they had known of God and of man. He led them, historically, into what was, in truth, a new world, into a new understanding of life in all its relations. What they had never noticed before, he brought to their knowledge, he made interesting to them, and intelligible. In short, as Paul put it, "if any man be in Christ, it is a new creation" (2 Cor. 5:17). The aspects of things were different; the values were changed, and a new perspective made clear relations that were obscure and tangled before. Why should it have been so? Why should it be, that, when a man comes into contact, into some kind of sympathy with Jesus Christ, some living union with him, everything becomes new, and he by and by begins to feel with St. Paul: "To me to live is Christ" (Phil. 1:21)? Why has Jesus meant so much? Why should all this be associated with him? Plato, in the sentence already quoted, tells us that "the unexamined life is unliveable for a human being, for a real man." Here, then, came into man's life a new experience altogether, like nothing known before altering everything, giving new sympathies, new passions, new enthusiasms--a new attitude to God and a new attitude to men. It was inevitable that thought must work upon it. Who was this Jesus that he should produce this result? Men asked themselves that very early; and if they were slow to do so, the criticism of the outsider drove them into it. The result has been nineteen centuries of endless question and speculation as to Jesus Christ--the rise of dogma, creed, and formula, as slowly all the philosophy of mankind has been re-thought in the light of the central experience of Jesus Christ. In spite of all that we may regret in the war of creeds, it was inevitable--it was part of the disturbance that Jesus foresaw he must make (Luke 12:51). Men "could do no other"--they had to determine for themselves the significance of Jesus in the real world, in the whole cosmos of God; and it meant fruitful conflict of opinion, the growth of the human mind, and an ever-heightened emphasis on Jesus. An analogy may illustrate in some way the story before us. One of the most fascinating chapters of geography is the early exploration of America. Chesapeake Bay was missed by one explorer. Fog or darkness may have been the cause of his missing the place; but he missed it, and, though it is undoubtedly there, he made his map without it. Now let us suppose a similar case--for it must often have happened in early days--and this time we will say it was the Hudson, or some river of that magnitude. A later explorer came, and where the map showed a shore without a break, he found a huge inlet or outlet. Was it an arm of the sea, a vast bay, or was it a great river? A very great deal depended on which it was, and the first thing was to determine that. There were several ways of doing it. One was to sail up and map the course. A quicker way was to drop a bucket over the side of the ship. The bucket, we may be sure, went down; and it came up with fresh water; and the water was an instant revelation of several new and important facts. They had discovered, first of all, that where there was an unbroken coast-line on the map, there was nothing of the kind in reality; there was a broad waterway up into the country; and this was not a bay, but the mouth of a river, and a very great river indeed; and this implied yet another discovery--that men had to reckon with no mere island or narrow peninsula, but an immense continent, which it remained to explore. Jesus Christ was in himself a very great discovery for those to whom he gave himself, and the exploration of him shows a somewhat similar story. Men have often said that they see nothing in him very different from the rest of us; while others have found in him, in the phrase of the Apocalypse (Rev. 22:1), the "water of life"; and the positive announcement is here, as in the other case, the more important of the two. The discovery of the volume of life, which comes from Jesus Christ, is one of the greatest that men have made. Merely to have dipped his bucket, as it were, in that great stream of life has again and again meant everything to a man. Think of what the new-found river of the New World meant to some of those early explorers after weeks at sea-- Water, water everywhere, Nor any drop to drink-- and they reach an immense flood of river-water. It was new life at once; but it did not necessarily mean the immediate exploration of everything, the instant completion of geographical discovery. It was life and the promise of more to follow. The history of the Church is a record, we may put it, both of the discovery of the River of Life and of the exploration of its course and its sources, and of what lies behind it. But the discovery and the exploration are different things, and the first is quicker and more certain than the second. Most of us will admit that we have not gone very far up into that Continent. The object of this chapter is not to attempt to survey or compendiarise Christian exploration of Jesus, but to try to find for ourselves a new approach to an estimate of the historical figure who has been and remains the centre of everything. We may classify the records of the Christian exploration roughly in three groups. In the early Christian centuries, we find endless thought given to the philosophical study of the relation of Christ and God. It fills the library of the Early Church, and practically all the early controversies turn upon it. The weak spot in all this was the use of the "a priori" method. Men started with preconceptions about God--not unnaturally, for we all have some theories about God, which we are apt to regard as knowledge. But knowledge is a difficult thing to reach in any sphere of study; and men assumed too quickly that they had attained a sound philosophical account of God. They over-estimated their actual knowledge of God and did not recognize to the full the importance of their new experience. This may seem ungenerous to men, who gave life and everything for Jesus Christ, and to whose devotion, to whose love of Jesus, we owe it that we know him--an ungenerous criticism of their brave thinking, and their independence in a hundred ways of old tradition. Still it is true that the weakness of much of their Christology--and of ours--is that it starts with a borrowed notion of God, which really has very little to do with the Christian religion. To this we shall return; but in the meantime we may note that here as elsewhere preconceptions have to be lightly held by the serious student. Huxley once wrote to Charles Kingsley: "Science seems to me to teach in the highest and strongest manner the great truth that is embodied in the Christian conception of entire surrender to the will of God. Sit down before the fact as a little child, be prepared to give up every preconceived notion, follow humbly wherever and to whatever end Nature leads, or you shall learn nothing .... I have only begun to learn content and peace of mind since I have resolved at all risks to do this." So Huxley wrote about the study of natural science. In this great inquiry of ours we have to learn to be patient enough--we might say, ignorant enough--to do the same. The Early Church had a faith in Greek philosophy, which stood in its way, brave and splendid as its thinkers were. Our second group is represented roughly by the Hymn Book. The evidential value of a good hymn book will stand investigation. Of course a great many hymns are mere copies, and poor copies; but the Hymn Book at its best is a collection of first-hand records of experience.[33] In the story of the Christian Church doxology comes before dogma. When the writer of the Apocalypse breaks out at the very beginning: "Unto him that loved us and washed[34] us from our sins in his own blood . . . be glory and dominion for ever and ever" (Rev. 1:5), he is recording a great experience; and his doxology leads him on to an explanation of what he has felt and known--to an intellectual judgement and an appreciation of Christ. The order is experience,--happiness and song--and then reflection. The love and the cleansing, and the joy, supply the materials on which thought has to work. We have always to remember that thought does not strictly supply its own material, however much it may help us to find it. Philosophy and theology do not give us our facts. Their function is to group and interpret them. Our third group of records is given to us by the men of the Reformation. We have there two great movements side by side. There is Bible translation, which means, in plain language, a decision or conviction on the part of scholars and thinkers, that the knowledge of the historical Jesus, and of men's first experiences of him, is of the highest importance in the Christian life. The whole Reformation follows, or runs parallel with, that movement. It is essentially a new exploration of what Jesus Christ can do and of what he can be. In dealing with all these three groups of records, we have to note the seriousness of the men who made the experiments, their energy of mind, their determination to reach real facts and, in Cromwell's great phrase, to "speak things." They will have the truth of the matter. Intricate and entangled as is the history, for instance, of the Arian controversy--that controversy which "turned on a diphthong," as Carlyle said in his younger days--it represented far more than mere logomachy, as Carlyle saw later on. It followed from a determination to get at the real fact of who and what Jesus Christ is; and the two words, that differed by a diphthong, embodied diametrically opposite conceptions of him. With all the super-subtlety that sometimes characterizes theologians, these men had a passion for truth. It led them into paths where our minds find a difficulty in following; but the motive was the imperative sense that thinking men must examine and understand their supreme experience--a motive that must weigh with men who are in earnest about life. The great hymns of the Church--such as the "Dies Irae" of Thomas of Celano, or Bernard's "Jesu dulcis memoria", or Toplady's "Rock of Ages"--are transcripts from life, made by deep-going and serious minds. The writers are recording, with deep conviction of its worth, what they have discovered in experience. A man who takes Christ seriously and will "examine life," will often find in those great hymns, it may be with some surprise, an anticipation of his own experience as Bunyan did in Luther's Commentary on Galatians. Livingstone had "Jesu dulcis memoria"--the Latin of it--ringing in his head as he travelled in unexplored Africa. Men who did such work--work that lasts and is recognized again and again to be genuine by others busy in the same field--cannot have been random, light-hearted creatures. They were, in fact, men tested in life, men of experience of wide and deep experience--men with a gift for living, developed in heart as well as in brain. The finest of Greek critics, Longinus, said that, "The great style ("hupsos") is an echo of a great soul." Neander said--and it is again and again true--that "it is the heart that makes the theologian." Where we find a great hymn or a great theology, we may be sure of finding a great nature and a great experience behind it. Let us sum up our general results so far. First of all, whatever be the worth of the consensus of Christian opinion--and we have to decide how much it is worth, bearing in mind the type of man who has worked and suffered to make it in every age; and, I think, it runs high, as the work of serious and explorative minds--the consensus of Christian opinion gives the very highest name to Jesus Christ. Men, who did not begin with any preconception in his favour, and who have often had a great deal of difficulty in explaining to others--and perhaps to themselves--the course by which they have reached their conclusions, claim the utmost for Jesus--and this in spite of the most desperate philosophical difficulties about monotheism. With a strong sense of fact, with a deepening feeling for reality, with a growing value for experience, and with bolder ventures upon experience, men have found that their conception of Jesus deepens and grows; he means more to them the more they are. And, as was noted in the first chapter, in a rational universe, where truth counts and error fails, the Church has risen in power with every real emphasis laid on Jesus Christ. What does this involve? So far our records. To-day we are living in an era when great scientific discoveries are made, and more are promised. Geology once unsettled people about Genesis; but closer study of the Bible and of science has given truer views of both, and thinking people are as little troubled about geology now as about Copernican astronomy. At present heredity and psychology are dominating our minds--or, rather, theories as to both; for though beginnings have been made, the stage has not yet been reached of very wide or certain discovery. There is still a great deal of the soul unexplored and unmapped. No reasonable person would wish to belittle the study either of evolution or of psychology; but the real men of science would probably urge that lay people should take more pains to know the exact meaning and scope of scientific terms, and to have some more or less clear idea in their minds when they use them. However, all these modern discoveries and theories are, to many men's minds, a challenge to the right of Christians to speak of Jesus Christ as they have spoken of him, a challenge to our right to represent the facts of Christian life as we have represented them--in other words, they are a challenge to us to return to experience and to see what we really mean. If our study of Jesus in the preceding chapters has been on sound lines, we shall feel that the challenge to face facts is in his vein; it was what he urged upon men throughout. The old problem returns upon us: Who and what is this Jesus Christ? We are involved in the recurrent need to re-examine him and re-explore him. There are several ways of doing so. Like every other historical character Jesus is to be known by what he does rather than by "a priori" speculation as to what he might be. In the study of history, the first thing is to know our original documents. There are the Gospels, and, like other historical records, they must be studied in earnest on scientific lines without preconception. And there are later records, which tell us as plainly and as truthfully of what he has done in the world's history. We can begin, then, with the serious study of the actual historical Jesus, whom people met in the road and with whom they ate their meals, whom the soldiers nailed to the cross, whom his disciples took to worshipping, and who has, historically, re-created the world. The second line of approach is rather more difficult, but with care we can use Christological theories to recover the facts which those who framed the theories intended to explain. We must remember here once more the three historical canons laid down at the beginning. We must above all things give the man's term his meaning, and ask what was the experience behind his thought. When we come upon such descriptions of Jesus as "Christ our Passover" (1 Cor. 5:7), or find him called the Messiah, we must not let our own preconceptions as to the value of the theories implied by the use of such language, nor again our existing views of what is orthodox, determine our conclusions; but we must ask what those who so explained Jesus really meant to say, and what they had experienced which they thought worth expressing. These people, as we see, were face to face with a very great new experience, and they cast about for some means of describing and explaining it. A slight illustration may suggest the natural law in accordance with which they set about their task of explanation. A child, of between two and three years old, was watching his first snow-storm, gazing very intently at the flying snow-flake, and evidently trying to think out what they were. At last he hit it; they were "little birds." It is so that the mind, infant or adult, is apt to work--explaining the new and unknown by reference to the familiar. Snow-flakes are not little birds; they are something quite different; yet there is a common element--they both go flying through the air, and it was that fact which the child's brain noticed and used. To explain Jesus, his friends and contemporaries spoke of him as the Logos, the Sacrifice, "Christ our Passover," the Messiah, and so forth. Of those terms not one is intelligible to us to-day without a commentary. To ordinary people Jesus is at once intelligible--far more so than the explanations of him. Historically, it is he himself who has antiquated every one of those conceptions, and, so far as they have survived, it has been in virtue of association with him. They are the familiar language of another day. "No one," said Dr. Rendel Harris, "can sing, 'How sweet the name of Logos sounds.'" Synesius of Cyrene did try to sing it, but most human beings prefer St. Bernard or John Newton. The inner significance of each term will point to the real experience of the man using it. He employs a metaphor, a simile, or a technical term to explain something. Can we penetrate to the analogy which he finds between the Jesus of the new experience and the old term which he uses? Can we, when we see what he has experienced, grasp the substance and build on that to the neglect of the term? When we look at the terms, we find that the essence of sacrifice was reconciliation between God and man (we shall return to this a little later), and that the Messiah was understood to be destined to achieve God's purpose and God's meaning for mankind and for each man. We find, again, that the inner meaning of the Logos is that through it, and in it, God and man come in touch with each other and become mutually intelligible. Reconciliation, the victory of God, the mutual intelligibility of God and man--all three terms centre in one great thought, a new union between God and man. That, so far as I can see, is the common element; and that is, as men have conceived it, the very heart of the Christian experience. In the third place, we can utilize the new experiments made upon Jesus Christ in the Reformation and in other revivals. They come nearer to us; for the men who report are more practical and more scholarly in the modern way; they are more akin to us both in blood and in ideas. Luther, for example, is a great spirit of the explorer type. He went to scholarship and learnt the true meaning of "metanoia"--that it was "re-thinking" and not "penance"--and he grasped a new view of God there. From scholarship he gained a truer view of Church history than he had been taught; and this too helped to clear his mind. Above all, as "a great son of fact" (Carlyle's name for him), his chief interest was the exploration of Jesus Christ--would Christ stand all the weight that a man could throw upon him without assistance? And Luther found that Christ could; and he at once turned his knowledge into action, as the world knows. "Justification by faith" was his phrase, and he meant that we may trust Jesus Christ with all that we are, all that we have been, and all that we hope to be; that Jesus himself will carry all; that Jesus himself is all; that Jesus is at once Luther's eternal salvation, and his sure help in the next day's difficulty--his Saviour for ever from sin, and his great stand-by in translating the Bible for the German people and in writing hymns for boys and girls. "Nos nihil sumus", he wrote, "Christus solus est omnia".[35] In the case of every great revival--the Wesleyan revival, and the smaller ones in the United States, in the north of Ireland, in Wales--in every one we find that, where anything is really achieved, it is done by a new and thoroughgoing emphasis on Jesus Christ. It may be put in language which to some ears is repulsive, in metaphors strange or uncouth; but whatever the language, the fact that underlies it is this--men are brought back to the reality, the presence, the power, and the friendship of Jesus Christ; they are called to a fresh venture on Jesus Christ, a fresh exploration: and again and again the experience of a lifetime has justified the venture. This brings us to the most effective and fundamental method in the exploration of Jesus, in some ways the most difficult of all, or else the very simplest. The Church has been clear that there is nothing like personal experiment, the personal venture. It is the only clue to the experience. The saying of St Augustine (Sermon 43, 3), "Immo Credo ut intelligas," is to many of our minds offensive--I think, because we give not quite the right meaning to his "Credo". But, if the illustrations are not too simple, swimming and bicycling offer parallels. A man will never understand how water holds up a human body, as long as he stays on dry land. In practical things, the venture comes first; and it is hard to see how a man is to understand Christ without a personal experience of him. All parents know how much better bachelors and maiden sisters understand children than they do; but as soon as these great authorities have children of their own, the position is altered a little. The change that Jesus definitely operates in men, they have described in various ways--rebirth, salvation, a new heart, and so forth. What they have always emphasized in Jesus Christ, is that they find he changes their outlook and develops new instincts in them, and that in one way and another he saves from sin; and they have been men who have learnt and adopted Jesus' own estimate of sin. When, then, we remember that, with his serious view of sin, he undertook man's redemption from it; when we add to this some real reflection upon how much he has already done, as plain matter of history, to "take away the sin of the world," we surely have something to go upon in our attempt to determine who he is. The question will rise, Have Christians overstated their experience, or even misunderstood it? Has forgiveness been, in fact, achieved--or salvation from sin? Can sin be put away at all? What will the evidence for this be? I do not know what the evidence could be, except the new life of peace with God, and all the sunshine and blessing that go with it. This new life is at all events all the evidence available; and how much it means is very difficult to estimate without some personal experience. Here again the great theories of Redemption will help us to recover the experience they are to explain; and once more we may note that they are not the work of small minds or trivial natures, however badly they have been echoed. Substitution implies at any rate some serious confession of guilt before God, some strong sense of a great indebtedness to Christ. The theory of Sacrifice implies the need of reunion with God. Robertson Smith, in his "Early Religion of the Semites" brings out that the essence of ancient sacrifice was that the tribe, the sacrificial beast and the god were all of one blood; the god was supposed to be alienated; the sacrifice was offered by the party to the quarrel who was seeking reconciliation, namely, the tribe. When we look at the New Testament, we find that the emphasis always lies on God seeking reconciliation with man (cf. 2 Cor. 5:19). The theory of ransom--a most moving term in a world of slavery--implies the need of new freedom for the mind, for the heart and the whole nature, from the tyranny of sin. All these are similes; and tremendous structures of theory have been built on every one of them--and for some of these structures, simile, or, in plainer language, analogy, is not a sufficient foundation. It is probably true that all our current explanations of the work of Christ in Redemption have in them too large an element of metaphor and simile. Yet Christian people are reluctant to discard any one of them; and their reluctance is intelligible. There is a value in the old association, which is found by new experience. Every one of these old similes will contribute to our realization of the work of Christ, in so far as it is a record of experience of Christ, verified in one generation after another. We shall make the best use of them, when we are no longer intimidated by the terminology, but go at once to what is meant--to the facts. We come still closer to the facts in the less metaphorical terms of the New Testament. For example, there is the New Covenant. The writer of the Epistle to the Hebrews went back to a great phrase in Jeremiah, and by his emphasis on it he helped to give its name to the whole New Testament--"I will make a new covenant with the house of Israel and the house of Judah" (Heb. 8:8-12; Jer. 31:31-34). Using this passage, he brings out that there is a new relation, a new union, between God and man in Jesus. He speaks of Jesus as a mediator bringing man and God together (Heb. 8:6)--language far plainer to us than the terminology of sacrifice, which he employed rather to bring home the work of Jesus with feeling and passion to those who had no other vocabulary, than to impose upon Christian thinkers a scheme of things which he clearly saw to be exhausted. Then there is Paul's great conception of Reconciliation (2 Cor. 5:18-20). Half the difficulties connected with the word "Atonement" disappear, when we grasp that the word in Greek means primarily reconciliation. As Paul uses the noun and the verb, it is very plain what he means--God is in Christ trying to reconcile the world to himself. These attempts to express Christ's work in plain words take us back to the great central Christian experience--to the great initial discovery that the discord of man's making between God and man has been removed by God's overtures in Christ; that the obstacles which man has felt to his approach to God--in the unclean hands and the unclean lips--have been taken away; and that with a heart, such as the human heart is, a man may yet come to God in Jesus, because of Jesus, through Jesus. The historical character of Christian life and thought is surely evidence that Jesus Christ has accomplished something real; and when we get a better hold of that, the problem of his person should be more within our reach. The splendid phrase of Paul--"Therefore being justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ" (Rom. 5:1)--or that of 1 Peter: "In whom ye rejoice ... with joy unspeakable and full of glory" (1 Pet. 1:8)--gives us the keynote. The gaiety of the Early Church in its union with Jesus Christ rings through the New Testament and the Christian fathers from Hermas to Augustine. The Church has come singing down the ages.[36] The victory over sin--no easy thing at any time--is another permanent feature of Christian experience. The psychological value of what Dr. Chalmers called "the expulsive power of a new affection" is not enough studied by us. Look at the freedom, the growth, the power of the Christian life--where do they all come from? We cannot leave God out of this. At any rate, there they are in the Christian experience; and where does anything that matters flow from but from God? There is again the evidence of Christian achievement; and it should be remarked that the Christian always tells us that he himself has not the power, that it comes from God, that he asks for it and God gives it. As for the easy explanation of all religious life by "auto-suggestion," we may note that it involves a loose and unscientific use of a more or less scientific theory--never a very safe way to knowledge. In any case, it has been pointed out, the word adds nothing to the number of our facts; nor is it quite clear yet that it eliminates God from the story any more than the term "digestion" makes it inappropriate to say Grace before meat. All these things--peace, joy, victory, and the rest--follow from the taking away of sin, and imply that it no longer stands between God and man. All this is the work of the historical Jesus. It is he who has changed the attitude of man to God, and by changing it has made it possible for God to do what he has done. If God, in Paul's phrase, "hath shined in our hearts" (2 Cor. 4:6), it was Jesus who induced men to take down the shutters and to open the windows. It is all associated, historically, with the ever-living Jesus Christ, and with God in him. This brings us to the central question, the relation of Jesus with God--the problem of Incarnation. After all that has been said, we shall not approach it "a priori". We are too apt to put the Incarnation more or less in algebraic form: x+y=a, where a stands for the historical Jesus Christ, and x and y respectively for God and man. But what do we mean by x and y? Let us face our facts. What do we know of man apart from Jesus Christ? Surely it is only in him that we realize man--only in him that we grasp what human depravity really is, the real meaning and implications of human sin. It is those who have lived with Jesus Christ, who are most conscious of sin; and this is no mere morbid imagination or fancy, it rests on a much deeper exploration of human nature than men in general attempt. Not until we know what he is do we see how very little we are, and how far we have gone wrong. It is his power of help and sympathy that teaches us the hardness of our own hearts, our own fundamental want of sympathy. Again, until a man knows Jesus Christ, he has little chance of even guessing the grandeur of which he himself is capable. A man has, as he says, done his best--for years, it may be, of strenuous endeavour; and then comes the new experience of Jesus Christ, and he is lifted high above his record, he gains a new power, a new tenderness, and he does things incredible. We do not know the wrong or the right of which man is capable, till we know Jesus Christ. The y of our equation, then, does not tell us very much. When it comes to the x, is it not very often a mixture--an ill-adjusted mixture--of the Father of Jesus, with the rather negative "beyond all being" of later Greek speculation, and perhaps the Judge of Roman law? The exact proportions in the mixture will vary with the thinker. But, in fact, is it not true now that we really only know God through Jesus? For it is only in and through Jesus that we take the trouble, and have the faith, to explore and test God, to try experiments upon God, to know what he can do and what he will do. It is only in Jesus that the Love of God (in the New Testament sense), is tenable at all. It is evanescent apart from Jesus; it rests on the assurance of his words, his work, his personality. A vague diffused "love of God" for everything in general and nothing in particular, we saw to be a quite different thing from the personal attachment, with which, according to Jesus, God loves the individual man. That is the centre of the Gospel; it is belief in that, which has done everything in a rational world, as we saw at the beginning; and it is a most impossible belief, never long or very actively held apart from Jesus. Only in him can we believe it. Only in him, too, is the new experience of God's forgiveness and redemption possible, in all its fullness and sureness and power. "Dieu me pardonnera," said Heine, "c'est son métier";--but he had not the Christian sense of what it was that God was to forgive. It is only in Jesus that we can live the real life of prayer, in the intimate way of Jesus. All this means that we have to solve our x from Jesus--not to discover him through it. The plain fact is that we actually know Jesus a great deal better than we know our x and our y, the elements from which we hoped to reconstruct him. What does this mean? It means, bluntly, that we have to re-think our theories of Incarnation on "a posteriori" lines, to begin on facts that we know, and to base ourselves on a continuous exploration and experience of Jesus Christ first. The simple, homey rule of knowing things before we talk about them holds in every other sphere of study, and it is the rule which Jesus himself inculcated. We begin, then, with Jesus Christ, and set out to see how far he will take us. Experience comes first. "Follow me," he said. He chose the twelve men "that they might be with him," and he let them find out in that intercourse what he had for them; and from what he could give and did give they drew their conclusions as to who and what he is. There can be no other way of knowing him. "Luther's Reformation doctrines," says Hermann, in his fine book, "The Communion of the Christian with God" (p. 163), "only countenance such a confession of the Deity of Christ as springs naturally to the lips of the man whom Jesus has already made blessed." Melanchthon said the same: "This it is to know Christ--to receive his benefits--not to contemplate his natures, or the modes of his incarnation." "Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest." APPENDIX SUGGESTIONS FOR STUDY CIRCLE DISCUSSIONS 1. The book is obviously written for private reading, and these suggestions are added, at the author's request, for those who would like to study the book in groups. Circles on it, however, will not be very profitable unless members of them are also carefully reading the Gospels and come to the circles with copies of the New Testament. Some acquaintance with the main outlines of New Testament criticism will be a help. Readers who want to know how the New Testament was written are referred to Principal Selbie: "The Nature and Message of the Bible" (S.C.M., IS. 6d.), especially ch. iv. and v. 2. The questions suggested for discussion are only a selection of the many important questions which the book raises. Circles should not feel bound to follow them, or to try to cover them all at one meeting. There are many subsidiary questions, which some circles might pursue With profit. 3. The circle should try as far as possible to get away from the text of the book to the text of the Bible; to study and verify the author's method of exposition. The Leader should give much thought to this. 4. A Bible with the marginal references of the R.V. should be used--also a note-book. The author's clear preference for the A.V. may be remarked (cf. p. 224). 5. While the method of the book is historical, its object is practical. The circles should have the same objective. Experience comes before theology. Theology is worthless which cannot be verified in experience. "He that doeth His will, shall know of the doctrine." 6. One chapter a week will be as much as a circle can profitably manage. . QUESTIONS FOR DISCUSSION IN CIRCLES CHAPTER I I. Does the writer overdo the importance of history? Would not "spiritual religion" suffice without a "historical basis," as some Indians and others suggest? 2. What would our evidence be for" spiritual religion" if we had not the record of actual history to check fancy and support the ventures of faith? 3. Does the writer underestimate the actual impress made on his age by Jesus? Was he not probably more widely known? 4. How can ordinary people" make sure of the experience behind the thought of Jesus?" Does this belittle him? 5. What becomes of ordinary simple people untrained in historical research, who are not experts and merely want help in living and dying? Could not the whole presentation of Christ be much simpler? Where does "revelation to babes" come in? CHAPTER II 1. Look up and verify at the circle meeting the references to the Gospels in the chapter and see if they bear the interpretations put upon them. 2. Was Jesus fond of life and Nature? Give instances. 3. Does intercourse with Nature make communion with God more real? 4. "Jesus showed and taught men the beauty of humility, tenderness and charity, but not of manliness and courage." Is there any truth in this charge as regards (a) the portrait in the Gospels, or (b) the presentation of Jesus in the teaching of the Church? CHAPTER III 1. "One of Jesus' great lessons is to get men to look for God in the common-place things of which God makes so many." Discuss this. 2. Had Jesus a sense of humour? Give instances. 3. "The Son of Fact,"--do you think this a true epithet? 4. What characteristics of the mind of Jesus does this chapter emphasize as principal? Do you agree that they are the principal ones? (5. What do you imagine Jesus looked like? What do you think of the conventional figure of modern Art?) CHAPTER IV I. To what extent was the hardness of the world during the early Roman Empire due to current conceptions of God? 2. What was the secret of Jesus' attractiveness, and what kinds of men and women did he attract? 3. How do you picture the life he lived with his disciples? E.g. Can you reconstruct a typical day in the life of Jesus (cf. pp. 81, 82). 4. Had he a method of teaching: if so, what was it? Give illustrations. CHAPTER V 1. How would you state to a non-Christian the three principal elements in Jesus' teaching about the character of God? Illustrate fully from the three Gospels. 2. What elements in the teaching of Jesus and the relation of God to the individual would be new to a Jew who knew his Old Testament? 3. What did Jesus teach his disciples concerning prayer? 4. "If the friend in the house to your knowledge has the loaves, you will knock until you get them; and has not God the gifts for you that you need? Is he short of the power to help, or is it the will to help that is wanting in God?" Do we pray in order to change the will of God? Why did Jesus pray? CHAPTER VI 1. "There is little suggestion in the Gospels that Art meant anything to him." Would you admit this? Or has the writer too narrow a conception of the nature of Art? 2. "The appeal that lay in the sheer misery and helplessness of masses of men was one of the foundations of the Christian Church." Discuss this and illustrate from the ministry of our Lord. 3. "I have not been thinking about the community: I have been thinking about Christ," said a Bengali. Do you find this sort of antithesis in the Gospels? 4. "Jesus' new attitude to women." What is it? Was it continued in the Apostolic Church? Did it differ from St Paul's? Cf. St John 4:27. 5. What type of character does Jesus admire? Does your reading of the Gospels incline you to agree with the writer? Is it the same type of character which is exalted by Christian piety, stained-glass windows, and the calendars of Saints? CHAPTER VII 1. "There is no escaping the issue of moral choice." "One opinion is as good as another." Discuss these two contradictory statements. 2. "Jesus says there is all the difference in the world between his own Gospel and the teaching of the Baptist." What is John's teaching on sin and righteousness (in the Synoptic Gospels), and in what ways does it differ (a) from the Pharisaic, and (b) from our Lord's teaching? 3. What are the modern parallels to "the four outstanding classes whom Jesus warns of the danger of hell?" 4. Wherein does Jesus' standard of sin differ from the standard of sin current to-day? 5. "The Son of Man is come to seek and to save that which was lost" (Luke 19:10). What does "lost" mean? CHAPTER VIII 1. What is the connection between the Kingdom of Heaven and the Cross in the teaching of Jesus as recorded in the Gospels? 2. How does Jesus conceive of salvation? Illustrate from the Gospels. Do you agree with the writer's exposition? 3. Why should the salvation of the lost (i.e. redemption) mean the Cross for Jesus? 4. "In choosing the Cross, Christians have always felt, Jesus revealed God: and that is the centre of the great act of Redemption." In what way? 5. Do you think the paragraph on p. 179 beginning: "In the third place . . ." does justice to the apocalyptic passages in the Gospels (Mark 13ff, Matt. 24, etc.), or to the interpretation of this teaching by scholars of the apocalyptic school? (It is no use discussing this question unless members of the circle have made some study of apocalyptic thought.) CHAPTER IX 1. "Into this world came the Church!" With what aspects of the religion and life of the early Roman Empire, as outlined in the chapter, would the Church find itself in conflict? 2. How would you introduce the Christian faith to one who believed and took part in the Eleusinian cult of Demeter? (Cf. 1 Corinthians and St Paul's method of dealing with a similar situation, and notice the things he stresses--e.g. elementary morality.) 3. "Christ has conquered and all the gods are gone." Why did they go? 4. But have they gone? What resemblances are there between the world to-day (in the West and in the East) and the problem of the Church to-day and the Roman world and the problem of the Church then? 5. It was often remarked in India that, point by point, the writer's description of religion in the Roman world is true to the letter of Hinduism to-day. Work out this parallel. (See Dr J. N. Farquhar, Crown of Hinduism and Modern Religious Movements in India.) CHAPTER X 1. "It is the heart that makes the theologian." Where does your theology come from? 2. The doctrine of the Atonement has often been stated as an attempt to reconcile Jesus and an un-Christian conception of God. "God was in Christ reconciling the world unto Himself." "The Cross is the revelation in time of what God is always." Discuss. 3. What are the three ways of answering the question: "Who and what is this Jesus Christ?" Why must people make up their minds about him? 4. Does the writer make Jesus too human? Or has the reading of this book made you feel his divinity more strongly just because he was so perfectly human? FOOTNOTES [1] The Conflict of Religions in the Early Roman Empire, p. 157. [2] "We are nothing; Christ alone is all." [3] Canon Streeter in Foundations [4] Cf. the foreigner's touch at Athens (Acts 17:21). [5] because, later on, the Sabbath and Jewish ceremony were not among the most living issues, after the Church had come to be chiefly Gentile. [6] On this point see R. W. Dale, "The Living Christ and the Four Gospels"; and W. Sanday, "The Gospels in the Second Century." [7] The reader will see that I am referring to Bishop Lightfoot's article on "The Brethren of the Lord" in his commentary on "Galatians", but not accepting his conclusions. [8] That this is not quite fanciful is shown by the emphasis laid by more or less contemporary writers on the increased facilities for travel which the Roman Empire gave, and the use made of them. [9] Wordsworth, Prelude, i. 586. [10] Cf., F. G. Peabody, "Jesus Christ and Christian Character", pp. 57-60. [11] H. S. Coffin, Creed of Jesus. pp. 240-242. [12] "Prelude" xiii. 26 ff. [13] See further, on this, in Chapter VII., p.168 [14] E.g., in his essay on "Mirabeau": "The real quantity of our insight ... depends on our patience, our fairness, lovingness"; and in "Biography": "A loving heart is the beginning of all knowledge." [15] Cf. Deissmann, Light from the Ancient East, p. 154. I have omitted one or two less relevant clauses--e.g. greetings to friends. [16] Horace, "Epistles", i. 16, 48. [17] Homer, "Odyssey", xvii. 322. [18] It is only about four times that personal immortality comes with any clearness in the Old Testament: Psalms 72 and 139; Isaiah 26; and Job 16:26. [19] Cf. A. E. J. Rawlinson, Dogma, Fact and Experience, p. 16. "All the virtues in the Aristotelian canon are self-contained states of the virtuous man himself .... In the last resort they are entirely self-centred adornments or accomplishments of the good man; and it is significant of this self-centredness of the entire conception that the qualities of display (megaloprepeia) and highmindedness, or proper pride (megalopsychia), are insisted on as integral elements of the ideal character. On the other hand, the three characteristic Christian virtues--faith, hope and charity--all postulate Another." [20] Cf. Chapter II [21] A French mystic is quoted as saying, "Le Dieu défini est le Dieu fini." [22] Peabody, Jesus Christ and Christian Character, p. 97. [23] H. R. Mackintosh, "The Doctrine of the Person of Jesus Christ", p. 399. [24] Clement, "Protrepticus", 100, 3, 4 [25] The more or less contemporary Greek orator, Dio Chrysostom, refers to the old-fashioned ways of the Tarsiots, especially mentioning their insistence on women wearing veils. [26] Wernle, "Beginnings of Christianity", vol. i. p. 286, English translation. [27] So too says Josephus, who gives this as the reason of Herod's suspicion of him. [28] "Antiquities of the Jews", xviii. 5, 8, 117, cf. what Celsus says of righteousness as a condition of admission to certain mysteries that offer forgiveness of sins (Origen, c. "Celsum", iii. 59). The "purification of the body" has a ritual and ceremonial significance. [29] Lines Composed above Tintern, 34. [30] That he did so is emphasized again and again, in striking language, by St. Paul--e.g. Rom. 5:15-16, 20; 1 Tim. 1:14. [31] Horace, "Ars Poetica", 191, "Nec deus intersit nisi dignus vindice nodus inciderit". [32] Daily reading of the Scriptures is recommended by Clement of Alexandria ("Strom". vii. 49). [33] Perhaps one may quote here, not inappropriately, the famous saying of Aristotle in his "Poetics", that "poetry is a more philosophic thing than history, and of a higher seriousness." The latter term means that the poet is "more in earnest" about his work, and puts more energy of mind into it than the historian. If the reader hesitates about this, let him try to write a great hymn or poem. [34] Do not let us be misled by the thin pedantries of the Revised Version here, or in Romans 5:1 shortly to be cited. In both places literary and spiritual sense has bowed to the accidents of MSS. [35] If my readers do not know his Christmas hymn for children, they have missed one of the happiest hymns for Christmas. [36] What Carlyle says in "The Hero as a Poet" ("Heroes and Hero Worship") on the close relation of Song and Truth is worth remembering in this connexion. 
15011	----	THE SPIRIT AND THE WORD _A Treatise on the Holy Spirit in the Light of a Rational Interpretation of the Word of Truth_ _By Z. T. SWEENEY_ GOSPEL ADVOCATE COMPANY Nashville, Tennessee TABLE OF CONTENTS PAGE INTRODUCTION 5 I THE SPIRIT AND THE OLD TESTAMENT 9 II THE SPIRIT AND THE NEW TESTAMENT 15 III THE PERSONALITY AND DIVINITY OF THE SPIRIT 35 IV THE SPIRIT AND JOHN THE BAPTIST 43 V THE SPIRIT AND JESUS 53 VI THE SPIRIT AND THE APOSTLES 65 VII THE SPIRIT AND THE APOSTOLIC CHURCH 81 VIII THE SPIRIT AND THE WORLD 98 IX THE SPIRIT AND CHRISTIANS 117 X THE PARTING WORD 141 INTRODUCTION Christianity is differentiated from all the other religions by the fact that it offers its followers a spiritual dynamic in living up to its precepts. That dynamic is the Holy Spirit, that sets the word of God on fire, warms the church from coldness to enthusiasm, and strengthens the Christian with a power not his own in the great battle between the flesh and the spirit. Christianity is unique in making this offer. No other religion has any equivalent for it. The Holy Spirit is not obtained from the deductions of logic, the conclusions of philosophy nor from the investigations of science. All these are as silent as the grave regarding his presence and potency. It is solely and distinctly a matter of divine revelation. It is not my purpose, therefore, to view this subject in the light of philosophic induction, logical deduction nor scientific investigation, but solely in the light of God's revelation. I shall gather the teaching of God's word around several important phases of the nature, mission and work of the Spirit. I do not speculate upon what God may do through his Spirit; I put no limit upon the power of the Spirit. He may work in a thousand ways, for aught I know. I am treating solely of that work of the Spirit which God has made plain in his revealed word. For the sake of simplifying the treatment of the subject, I shall use the words "Spirit" and "Holy Spirit" instead of other terms used in the Scriptures. The Old Testament has eighty-eight distinct references to the Holy Spirit. In these references there are eighteen names applied. The New Testament refers to the Spirit two hundred and sixty-four times and uses thirty-nine names. Five names are common to both Testaments, which leaves fifty-two different appellatives for the Spirit. Seventeen appellatives express his relation to God, five his relation to the Son, five indicate his divine nature, seven describe his own character, while seventeen are used to indicate his relation to man. He is called the Holy Spirit, the Spirit of God, the Spirit of Christ, the Spirit of Jesus, the Spirit of his Son, of the Lord, of Truth, of Grace, of Holiness, of Glory, and of Adoption. He is called the Comforter, but this term never denotes his relation to man in general. It always describes a special relation to the apostles and their work. I wish my readers to bring to the perusal of this work the same spirit of earnestness that I shall put into the task of producing it. We read in the language of Jesus that "every sin and blasphemy shall be forgiven unto men; but the blasphemy against the Spirit shall not be forgiven" (Matt. 12:31). "And every one who shall speak a word against the Son of man, it shall be forgiven him: but unto him that blasphemeth against the Holy Spirit it shall not be forgiven" (Luke 12:10). Whatever else these terrible warnings may teach, they undoubtedly teach that the greatest care should be taken by those who venture to discuss this subject or investigate such discussion. Let both writer and reader therefore cast aside any flippancy of spirit, also any preconceptions or prejudices, and say like young Samuel of old: "Speak, Lord; thy servant heareth." The subject may be made plain or simple according to the manner we may treat it. If we view it in the light of psychological manifestation in our own hearts, or in the lives of those around us, which are ascribed to the Spirit, we shall find ourselves wandering in a maze of mystery. If we follow the word of God, which is the only source of knowledge, we shall find ourselves walking in a light that shall grow brighter as we proceed. It is impossible in a book the size of this to treat all the many passages that refer to the Holy Spirit, but we shall give those that have important bearing upon the subject. I THE SPIRIT AND THE OLD TESTAMENT The Old Testament does not give the same prominence to the Holy Spirit as does the New Testament. This is doubtless true because the Old Testament deals largely with material things, while the New Testament is primarily and essentially dealing with the spiritual nature and actions of man. It is, however, referred to in more than half of the books of the Old Testament, while in sixteen of them there is no specific mention of the Spirit. It is, however, mentioned specifically eighty-eight times in the Old Testament. It is generally spoken of as the Spirit of God. The New Testament refers to these passages in such a way as to identify the Holy Spirit of the New with the Spirit of God of the Old. In Luke 4:18 Jesus says: "The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, Because he anointed me to preach good tidings to the poor: He hath sent me to proclaim release to the captives, And recovering of sight to the blind. To set at liberty them that are bruised, To proclaim the acceptable year of the Lord." This is directly connected with the "Spirit of the Lord Jehovah" in Isa. 61: 1, 2. In the second chapter of Acts we have a direct connection with Joel 2. These are two of many such connections that bind together and identify the Spirit of the Lord of the Old Testament with the Holy Spirit of the New. In both Testaments we find God working by his Spirit. The Old Testament gives three lines of work performed by the Spirit: 1. HIS RELATION TO THE MATERIAL UNIVERSE. (1) In Gen. 1:2 we are told: "And the Spirit of God moved on the face of the waters." The word "moved" carries the sense of "hovered" or "brooded." The previous condition of the world was "waste and void," or a "formless waste." In some way the Spirit of God fashioned this formless waste into the multiplicity of contrasts that followed. It bound together those elements that were homogeneous, and separated the heterogeneous and so prepared the way for the dividing the light from the darkness that followed. The mode of the operation we do not know, but the fact of the operation is clearly revealed. (2) "By his Spirit the heavens are garnished" (Job 26:13). The expression could be better translated, "The heavens are made fair," or beautiful. That is, he set the constellations in their order. He gives one illustration when he says: "His hand hath pierced the swift serpent." Reference is here made to the beautiful constellation of "Serpens," or Draco, of graceful and striking appearance. (3) God's Spirit made me man; 'twas the Almighty's breath that gave me life. This higher life that was given to man by an inbreathing of the Spirit distinguishes man (_homo_) from all other animal species. 2. THE RELATION OF THE SPIRIT TO CREATED MAN. (1) Gen. 6:3. God tells Noah: "My Spirit shall not strive with man for ever, for that he also is flesh: yet shall his days be a hundred and twenty years." Here the work of the Spirit passes from the form of omnipotence to one of pleading or striving. The Spirit no more impresses his will upon the material universe, but expresses (rolls it out) to a rational creature. By the preaching of the faithful Noah the Spirit plead with the antediluvians to do right and escape the destruction that was coming upon a corrupt and wicked world. From this time onward the Spirit comes on men in various ways, qualifying them with supernatural power for the performance of special duties. (See Num. 11:25; Judg. 3:10; 1 Sam. 18:10; 10:11.) (2) But we find no case of the Spirit falling on man to cleanse him from sin, or to confer upon him a special blessing. Later on in the prophets the Spirit becomes a revealing and inspiring Spirit. (See Isa. 61:1; Ezek. 2:2; Zech. 7:12; 4:6.) As a result of this revealing power, we have the great facts of the New Testament set forth in detail. The life, nature, character and mission of the world's Redeemer stand forth in beauty and symmetry. 3. THE RELATION OF THE SPIRIT TO THE INDIVIDUAL MAN. The idea of holiness is not usually associated with the Spirit in the Old Testament. The term "Holy Spirit" occurs but three times in it. David prays (Ps. 51:11): "Take not thy holy Spirit from me." Isaiah says (63:10): "They rebelled and grieved his holy Spirit;" and again (63:11) he asks: "Where is he that put his holy Spirit in the midst of them?" It is, however, called "good Spirit" twice (Neh. 9:20; Ps. 143:10). It is mainly in reference to Messianic days that we find this ethical and personal relation to the Spirit of God. These three relations of the Spirit are in perfect harmony with God's law of progressive development in the world. We find him at first working upon a chaotic material universe; second, upon society, and, third, upon the individual character. The work of the Spirit upon the material universe makes it a fit dwelling-place for man. His work upon society makes man fit to dwell in the universe, and his work upon the individual character makes man fit for a righteous and holy fellowship with similar characters. II THE SPIRIT AND THE NEW TESTAMENT There are two hundred and sixty-four references to the Spirit in the New Testament. But in many of them there is no allusion to the Holy Spirit. In many places the expressions "the Spirit," and "the Holy Spirit," should be rendered "Spirit" and "holy Spirit," or frequently "a holy Spirit." The passages in this chapter are arranged in two columns: Column I contains the passages in which the definite article is to be found in the Greek. These should always be translated "the Holy Spirit." Column 2 contains the passages where the definite article is not found and which may be often--but not always--translated "a holy Spirit." The use of the article is often governed by other parts of speech. Where the Spirit sustains a universal relation to mankind, the word is italicized. MATTHEW 3:16. He saw the Spirit of God 1:18. She was found with child of descending as a dove, and coming the Holy Spirit. upon him. 1:20. That which is conceived in 4: 1. Then was Jesus led up of the her is of the Holy Spirit. Spirit into the wilderness to be tempted of the devil. 3:11. He shall baptize you in the Holy Spirit, and in fire. 10:20. For it is not ye that speak, but the Spirit of your 12:28. If I by the Spirit of God Father that speaketh in you. cast out demons. 12:18. I will put my Spirit upon 22:43. How then doth David in the him. Spirit call him Lord. 12:31. The blasphemy against the Spirit shall not be forgiven. 12:32. Whosoever shall speak against the Holy Spirit, it shall not be forgiven him. 28:19. Baptizing them into the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. MARK 1:10. Coming up out of the water, he saw ... the Spirit as a dove descending upon him. 1:8 He shall baptize you in the Holy Spirit dove descending upon him. 1:12. Straightway the Spirit driveth him forth into the wilderness. 3:29. Whosoever shall blaspheme against the Holy Spirit hath never forgiveness. 12:36. David himself said in the Holy Spirit. 13:11. It is not ye that speak, but the Holy Spirit. LUKE 2:26. It had been revealed unto 3:16. He shall baptize you in him by the Holy Spirit. [the] Holy Spirit and in fire. 2:27. He came in the Spirit into 4:18. The Spirit of the Lord is the temple. upon me. 3:22. The Holy Spirit descended in 10:21. He rejoiced in [the] Holy a bodily form, as a dove, upon _Spirit_. him. 11:13. How much more shall your 4:1. Jesus ... was led in the heavenly Father give [the] _Holy Spirit in the wilderness. Spirit_ to them that ask him? 4:14. Jesus returned in the power 1:15. He shall be filled with of the Spirit into Galilee. [the] Holy Spirit. 4:1. Jesus, full of the Holy 1:35. [The] Holy Spirit shall come Spirit, returned from the Jordan. upon thee. 12:10. Unto him that blasphemeth 1:41. Elisabeth was filled with against the Holy Spirit it shall [the] Holy Spirit. not be forgiven. 1:67. Zacharias was filled with 12:12. The Holy Spirit shall teach [the] Holy Spirit. you in that very hour what ye ought to say. 2:25. There was a man in Jerusalem, whose name was Simeon; 24:49. Behold, I send forth the ... [the] Holy Spirit was upon promise of my Father upon you. him. JOHN. 1:32. I have beheld the Spirit 1:33. The same is he that descending as a dove out of baptizeth in the Holy Spirit. heaven; and it abode upon him. 3:5. Except one be born of water 1:33. Upon whomsoever thou shalt and [the] _Spirit_. see the Spirit descending, and abiding upon him. 7:39. [The] Spirit was not yet given. 3:6. That which is born of the Spirit is spirit. 20:22. He breathed on them, and saith unto them, Receive ye [the] 3:8. So is every one that is born Holy Spirit. of the Spirit. 3:34. He giveth not the Spirit by measure. 6:63. It is the spirit that giveth life. 7: 39. This spake he of the Spirit, which they that believed on him were to receive. 14:16. He shall give you another Comforter. 14:17. Even the Spirit of truth. 14:26. The Comforter, even the Holy Spirit, ... he shall teach you. 15: 26. When the Comforter is come, ... even the Spirit of truth, ... he shall bear witness of me. 16:7. If I go not away, the Comforter will not come unto you. 16:8. He, when he is come, will convict the world in respect of sin, and of righteousness, and of judgment. 16:9. Of sin, because they believe not on me; 16:10. Of righteousness, because I go to the Father; 16:11. Of judgment, because the prince of this world hath been judged. 16:13. When he, the Spirit of truth, is come, he shall guide you into all the truth: for he shall not speak from himself; but what things soever he shall hear, these shall he speak: and he shall declare unto you the things that are to come. 16:14. He shall glorify me: for he shall take of mine, and shall declare it unto you. 16:15. He taketh of mine, and shall declare it unto you. ACTS 1:4. He charged them ... to wait 1:2. He had given commandment for the promise of the Father. through [the] Holy Spirit unto the apostles. 1:8. Ye shall receive power, when the Holy Spirit is come upon you. 1:5. John indeed baptized with water; but ye shall be baptized in 1:16. The scripture should be [the] Holy Spirit. fulfilled, which the Holy Spirit spake before by the mouth of David 2:4. They were all filled with the concerning Judas. Holy Spirit, and began to speak with other tongues, as [the] 2:17. I will pour forth of my Spirit gave them utterances. Spirit upon all flesh: 4:8. Peter, filled with [the] Holy 2:18. On my servants and on my Spirit, said unto them. handmaidens in those days will I pour forth my Spirit. 6: 3. Look ye out ... seven men ... full of [the] _Spirit_. 2:33. Having received of the Father the promise of the Holy 6:5. Stephen, a man full of ... Spirit, he hath poured forth this. the Holy _Spirit_. 2:38. Ye shall receive the gift of 7:55. He, being full of [the] Holy the Holy Spirit. _Spirit_. 4:25. Who by the Holy Spirit, by 8:15. Who ... prayed for them, the mouth of our father David, ... that they might receive [the] Holy didst say. Spirit. 4:31. They were all filled with 8:16. For as yet it was fallen the Holy Spirit, and they spake upon none of them. the word of God with boldness. 8:17. Then laid they their hands 5:3. Why hath Satan filled thy on them, and they received [the] heart to lie to the Holy Spirit. Holy Spirit. 5:9. How is it that ye have agreed 8:19. Give me also this power, together to try the Spirit of the that on whomsoever I lay my hands, Lord? he may receive [the] Holy Spirit. 5:32. We are witnesses of these 8:39. [The] Spirit of the Lord things; and so is the Holy Spirit. caught away Philip. 6:10. They were not able to 9:17. Jesus ... hath sent me, that withstand ... the Spirit by which thou mayest ... be filled with he spake. [the] Holy Spirit. 7:51. Ye do always resist the Holy 10: 38. God anointed him with Spirit. [the] Holy Spirit and with power. 8:18. When Simon saw that through 11:16. Ye shall be baptized in the laying on of the apostles' [the] Holy Spirit. hands the Holy Spirit was given, 11:24. He was a good man, and full 8:20. Thou hast thought to obtain of [the] Holy Spirit. the gift of God with money. 13:9. Paul, filled with [the] Holy 8:29. The Spirit said unto Philip, Spirit, fastened his eyes on him. Go near, and join thyself to this chariot. 13:52. The disciples were filled with joy and with [the] Holy 9:31. The church ... walking ... Spirit. in the comfort of the Holy Spirit, was multiplied. 19:2. Did ye receive [the] Holy Spirit when ye believed?... We 10:19. The Spirit said unto him, did not so much as hear whether Behold, three men seek thee. [the] Holy Spirit was given. 10: 20. Go with them.... I have sent them. 10: 44. The Holy Spirit fell on all them that heard the word. 10: 45. On the Gentiles also was poured out the gift of the Holy Spirit. 10:47. Who have received the Holy Spirit as well as we? 11:12. The Spirit bade me go with them. 11:25. As I began to speak, the Holy Spirit fell on them. 11:28. Agabus ... signified by the Spirit that there should be a great famine over all the world. 13:2. The Holy Spirit said, Separate me Barnabas and Saul. 13:4. They, being sent forth by the Holy Spirit. 15:8. God ... bare them witness, giving them the Holy Spirit. 15:28. It seemed good to the Holy Spirit, and to us. 16:6. Forbidden of the Holy Spirit, to speak the word in Asia. 16:7. The Spirit of Jesus suffered them not. 19:6. When Paul had laid his hands upon them, the Holy Spirit came on them. 20: 22. I go bound in the spirit unto Jerusalem. 20: 28. Take heed ... to all the flock, in which the Holy Spirit hath made you bishops. 21: 4. These said to Paul through the Spirit, that he should not set foot in Jerusalem. 21.11. Thus saith the Holy Spirit, So shall the Jews at Jerusalem bind the man that owneth this girdle. 28: 25. Well spake the Holy Spirit through Isaiah the prophet. ROMANS 8:2. The law of the _Spirit_ 1:4. Who was declared to be the of life in Christ Jesus made me Son of God with power, according free from the law of sin and of to [the] spirit of holiness. death. 5:5. The love of God hath been 8: 10. The spirit is life because shed abroad in our hearts through of righteousness. [the] Holy _Spirit_. 8: 11. If the Spirit of him that 8:4. The ordinance of the law raised up Jesus from the dead might be fulfilled in us, who walk dwelleth in you, he ... shall ... after [the] _Spirit_. give life also to your mortal bodies through his Spirit. 8:5. They that are after [the] _Spirit_ the things of [the] 8:16. The _Spirit_ himself _Spirit_. beareth witness with our spirit. 8:9. Ye are ... in the 8:23. Who have the first-fruits of _Spirit_, if ... [the] Spirit the Spirit. of God dwelleth in you. But if any man hath not the _Spirit_ 8:20. The Spirit also helpeth our of Christ, he is none of his. infirmity: ... the Spirit himself maketh intercession for us. 8:13. If by [the] _Spirit_ ye put to death the deeds of the 8:27. He ... knoweth what is the body, ye shall live. mind of the Spirit. 8:14. As many as are led by [the] 9:1. I say the truth ... my _Spirit_ of God, these are conscience bearing witness with me the sons of God. in the Holy Spirit. 8:15. Ye received [the] 15:30. I beseech you ... by the _spirit_ of adoption. love of the Spirit. 14:17. The kingdom of God is ... righteousness and peace and joy in [the] Holy _Spirit_. 15:13. That ye may abound in hope, in the power of [the] Holy _Spirit_. 15:16. The offering up of the Gentiles might be made acceptable, being sanctified by [the] Holy Spirit. 15:19. In the power of [the] Holy Spirit. 1 CORINTHIANS 2:10. God revealed them 2:4. My speech and my preaching through the Spirit; for the were ... in demonstration of Spirit searcheth all [the] Spirit. things. 2:13 In words ... which [the] 2:11. The things of God none Spirit teacheth. knoweth, save the Spirit of God. 7:40 I think that I also have [the] spirit of God. 2:12. But we received ... the spirit which is from God. 12:3 No man speaking in the Spirit of God saith, Jesus is anathema; 2:14. The natural man and no man can say, Jesus is Lord, receiveth not the things of but in [the] Holy Spirit. the Spirit of God. 14:2 In [the] Spirit he speaketh 3:16. Know ye not ... that mysteries. the Spirit of God dwelleth in you? 6:11. Ye were justified ... in the Spirit of our God. 6:19. Your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit. 12:4. There are diversities of gifts, but the same Spirit. 12:7. To each one is given the manifestation of the Spirit to profit withal. 12:8. To one is given through the Spirit the word of wisdom; and to another the word of knowledge, according to the same Spirit. 12:9. To another faith, in the same Spirit; and to another gifts of healings, in the one Spirit. 12:11. All these worketh the one and the same Spirit, dividing to each one severally even as he will. 2 CORINTHIANS 1:22. Who ... gave us the earnest 3:3. Ye are an epistle of Christ, of the Spirit in our hearts. ... written ... with [the] _Spirit_ of the living God. 3:6. The letter killeth, but the spirit giveth life. 3:18. We all ... are transformed into the same image from glory to 3:8. How shall not rather the glory, even us from the Lord [the] ministration of the spirit be with Spirit. glory? 6:6. In kindness, in [the] Holy 4:13. Having the same spirit of _Spirit_, in love unfeigned. faith. 11:4 If ye receive a different 5:5. Who gave unto us the earnest _spirit_, which ye did not of the Spirit. receive. 12:18. Walked we not in the same 6:6. In kindness, in [the] Holy Spirit? _Spirit_, in love unfeigned. If ye receive a different 13:14. The communion of the Holy _spirit_, which ye did not Spirit, be with you all, from receive. glory to glory, even as from the Lord [the] Spirit. GALATIANS. 3:2. Received ye the Spirit by the 3:3. Having begun in [the] works of the law, or by the _Spirit_, are ye now hearing of faith? perfected in the flesh? 3:5. He ... that supplieth to you 4:29. He that was born after the the Spirit. flesh persecuted him that was born after [the] _Spirit_. 3:14. That we might receive the promise of the _Spirit_ 5:5. We through [the] through faith. _Spirit_ by faith wait for the hope of righteousness. 4:6. God sent forth the _Spirit_ of his Son into our 5:16. Walk by [the] Spirit, and ye hearts. shall not fulfil the lust of the flesh. 5:17. The flesh lusteth against the _Spirit_, and the 5:18. If ye are led by [the] _Spirit_ against the flesh. _Spirit_, ye are not under the law. 5:22. The fruit of the _Spirit_ is love, joy, peace. 5:25. If we live by [the] _Spirit_, by the 6:8. He that soweth unto the _Spirit_ let us also walk. _Spirit_ shall of the _Spirit_ reap eternal life. EPHESIANS. 1:13. Ye were sealed with the Holy 1:17. That God ... may give unto Spirit of promise. you a spirit of wisdom and revelation in the knowledge of 2:18. Through him we both have our him. access in one Spirit unto the Father. 2:22. In whom ye also are builded together for a habitation of God 3:16. That ye may be strengthened in [the] _Spirit_. with power through his _Spirit_ in the inward man. 3:5. It hath now been revealed unto his holy apostles and 4:3. Keep the unity of the prophets in [the] Spirit. _Spirit_ in the bond of peace. 5:18. Be filled with [the] Spirit. 4:4. There is one body, and one 6:18. Praying at all seasons in _Spirit_. [the] _Spirit_. 4:30. Grieve not the Holy Spirit of God, in whom ye were sealed. 6:17. Take ... the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God. PHILLIPPIANS. 1:19. The supply of the 2:1. If there is ...any fellowship _Spirit_ of Jesus Christ. of [the] _Spirit_. 3:3. We are the circumcision, who worship by [the] _Spirit_ of God. COLOSSIANS. 1:8. Who also declared unto us your love in [the] _Spirit_. 1 THESSALONIANS. 4:8. God, who giveth his Holy 1:5. Our gospel came not unto you Spirit unto you. in word only, but ...in the Holy Spirit. 6:19. Quench not the _Spirit_. 1:6. Having received the word ...with joy of [the] Holy _Spirit_. 2 THESSALONIANS. 2:13. God chose you ...in sanctification of [the] _Spirit_. 1 TIMOTHY. 4:1. The Spirit saith expressly, 3:16. He who was ... justified in that ... some shall fall away from [the] spirit. the faith. 4:14. Neglect not the gift that is in thee. 2 TIMOTHY. 1:7. God gave us not a spirit of fearfulness; but of power and love and discipline. 1:14. That good thing ... guard through [the] Holy Spirit. TITUS. 3:5. He saved us through the ... renewing of [the] Holy _Spirit_. HEBREWS. 3:7. Wherefore, even as the Holy 2:4. God also bearing witness with Spirit saith, To-day if ye will them, ... by gifts of [the] Holy hear his voice. Spirit. 4:3. Even as he hath said. 6:4. Were made partakers of [the] Holy Spirit. 4:7. He again defineth a certain day. 9:14. Who through [the] eternal Spirit offered himself without 9:8. The Holy Spirit this blemish unto God. signifying. 10:15. The Holy Spirit also beareth witness to us. 10:29. Hath done despite unto the _Spirit_ of grace? JAMES. 4:5. Doth the _Spirit_ which he made to dwell in us long unto envying? 1 PETER 1:11. Searching what time ... the 1:2. In sanctification of [the] Spirit of Christ ... did point _Spirit_. unto. 1:12. Preached the gospel unto you 3:18. Put to death in the flesh, in [the] Holy Spirit. but made alive in the spirit. 4:6. Live according to God in 4:14. The Spirit of glory and the [the] spirit. Spirit of God resteth upon you. 2 PETER 1:21. Men spake from God, being moved by [the] Holy Spirit. 1 JOHN 2:20. Ye have an anointing from the Holy One. 2:27. The anointing which ye received of him abideth in you. 3:24. We know that he abideth in us by the Spirit which he gave us. 4:2. Hereby know ye the Spirit of God: Every spirit that confesseth that Jesus Christ is come in the flesh is of God. 4:6. By this we know the spirit of truth, and the spirit of error. 4:13. He hath given us of his Spirit. 5:7. It is the Spirit that beareth witness, because the Spirit is the truth. 5:8. There are three who bear witness, the Spirit, and the water, and the blood. JUDE 19. Having not [the] _Spirit_. 20. Praying in [the] Holy _Spirit_. REVELATION. 1:4. The seven Spirits that are 1:10. I was in [the] _Spirit_ before his throne. on the Lord's day. 2:7. Hear what the Spirit saith to 4:2. Straightway I was in [the] the churches. _Spirit._ 2:17. Hear what the Spirit saith 11:11. The breath of life from God to the churches. entered into them. 2:29. Hear what the Spirit saith 17:3. He carried me away in [the] to the churches. _Spirit_ into a wilderness. 3:1. He that hath the seven 21:10. He carried me away in [the] Spirits of God. _Spirit_ to a mountain. 3:6. Hear what the Spirit saith to the churches. 3:13. Hear what the Spirit saith to the churches. 4:5. Seven lamps of fire ... which are the seven Spirits of God. 5:6. Seven eyes, which are the seven Spirits of God. 14:13. Yea, saith the Spirit, that they may rest from their labors. 22:17. The Spirit and the bride say, Come, III THE PERSONALITY AND DIVINITY OF THE SPIRIT Two views have been entertained concerning the Holy Spirit: (1) That it is a divine influence proceeding from the Father, an emanation from or manifestation of the divine, or a mere impersonal force. (2) That he is a person and active in all the ways of a personality. That the latter view is the correct and Scriptural one is evident from the following considerations: 1. HIS WORKS PROCLAIM PERSONALITY. (1) _He speaks._ "But the Spirit saith expressly, that in later times some shall fall away from the faith" (1 Tim. 4:1). A speaker is a person; no influence or principle can speak. (2) _He testifies._ "But when the Comforter is come, whom I will send unto you from the Father, even the Spirit of truth, which proceedeth from the Father, he shall bear witness of me" (John 15: 26). (3) _He teaches and quickens the mind._ "But the Comforter, even the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in my name, he shall teach you all things, and bring to your remembrance all that I said unto you" (John 14:26). (4) _He guides._ "I have yet many things to say unto you, but ye can not bear them now. Howbeit when he, the Spirit of truth, is come, he shall guide you into all the truth" (John 16: 12, 13). (5) _He leads and forbids._ "And they went through the region of Phrygia and Galatia, having been forbidden of the Holy Spirit to speak the word in Asia; and when they were come over against Mysia, they assayed to go into Bithynia; and the Spirit of Jesus suffered them not" (Acts 16:6, 7). (6) _He searches._ "But unto us God revealed them through the Spirit: for the Spirit searcheth all things, yea, the deep things of God" (1 Cor. 2:10). In the above passages the Holy Spirit is said to speak, to testify, to quicken, to teach, to guide disciples, to lead, to forbid and to search. All these things unite in showing the Holy Spirit to be a person, for nothing but a person can do them. 2. HE HAS THE CHARACTERISTICS OF A PERSON. We will mention a few of them: (1) _Mind._ "And he that searcheth the hearts knoweth what is the _mind of the Spirit_" (Rom. 8:27). (2) _Knowledge._ "Even so the things of God none knoweth, save the Spirit of God" (1 Cor. 2:11). (3) _Affection._ "Now I beseech you, brethren, by our Lord Jesus Christ, and by the _love of the Spirit_, that ye strive together with me in your prayers to God for me" (Rom. 15:30). (4) _Will._ "But all these worketh the one and the same Spirit, dividing to each one severally even _as he will_" (1 Cor. 12:11). (5) _Goodness._ "Thou gavest also thy _good Spirit_ to instruct them" (Neh. 9:20). Goodness, will, affection, knowledge and mind are all characteristics of a person. By no stretch of the imagination can they be ascribed to a mere impersonal influence or principle. These five characteristics form the fingers in the hand of certainty by which we grasp the personality of the Holy Spirit. 3. HE SUFFERS SLIGHTS AND INJURIES THAT CAN ONLY BE ASCRIBED TO A PERSONALITY. (1) _He can be grieved and vexed._ "And grieve not the Holy Spirit of God, in whom ye were sealed unto the day of redemption" (Eph. 4:30). "But they rebelled, and grieved his holy Spirit: therefore he was turned to be their enemy, and himself fought against them" (Isa. 63:10). (2) _He can be despited._ "Of how much sorer punishment, think ye, shall he be judged worthy, who hath trodden under foot the Son of God, and hath counted the blood of the covenant where-with he was sanctified an unholy thing, and hath _done despite_ unto the Spirit of grace" (Heb. 10:29). (3) _He can be blasphemed_. "Therefore I say unto you, Every sin and blasphemy shall be forgiven unto men; but the blasphemy against the Spirit shall not be forgiven. And whosoever shall speak a word against the Son of man, it shall be forgiven him; but whosoever shall speak against the Holy Spirit, it shall not be forgiven him, neither in this world, nor in that which is to come" (Matt. 12:31, 32). (4) _He can be resisted_. "Ye stiff-necked and uncircumcised in heart and ears, ye do always resist the Holy Spirit" (Acts 7:51). (5) _He can be lied unto_. "But Peter said, Ananias, why hath Satan filled thy heart to lie to the Holy Spirit, and to keep back part of the price of the land?" (Acts 5:3). A mere principle can not sustain any of the above slights. Nothing but a personality can be blasphemed, lied to, resisted or grieved. 4. HE IS A DIVINE PERSONALITY. This will be seen from the following attributes, which are the attributes of God: (1) _Eternity_. "How much more shall the blood of Christ, who through the _eternal_ Spirit offered himself without blemish unto God, cleanse your conscience from dead works to serve the living God?" (Heb. 9:14). "Jehovah is great in Zion; And he is high above all the peoples" (Ps. 99:2). (2) _Omniscience_. "But unto us God revealed them through the Spirit: for the Spirit _searcheth all things_, yea, the deep things of God. For who among men knoweth the things of a man, save the spirit of the man, which is in him? even so the things of God none knoweth, save the Spirit of God" (1 Cor. 2:10, 11). (3) _Omnipotence_. "But as for me, I am full of power _by the Spirit_ of Jehovah, and of judgment, and of might, to declare unto Jacob his transgression, and to Israel his sin" (Mic. 3:8). (4) _Omnipresence_. "Whither shall I go from thy Spirit? Or whither shall I flee from thy presence?... Even there shall thy hand lead me, And thy right hand shall hold me" (Ps. 139:7, 10). "Can any hide himself in secret places so that I shall not see him? saith Jehovah. Do not I fill heaven and earth? saith Jehovah" (Jer. 23:24). 5. THE WORKS OF THE HOLY SPIRIT MANIFEST DIVINITY. (1) The work of _creation_. "And the earth was waste and void; and darkness was upon the face of the deep: and the Spirit of God moved upon the face of the waters" (Gen. 1:2). "By his Spirit the heavens are garnished; his hand hath pierced the swift serpent" (Job 26:13). "By the word of Jehovah were the heavens made, And all the host of them by the breath of his mouth" (Ps. 33:6). "The Spirit of God hath made me, And the breath of the Almighty giveth me life" (Job 33:4). (2) The work of _providence_. "Thou sendest forth thy Spirit, they are created; and thou renewest the face of the ground" (Ps. 104:30). (3) The work of _regeneration_ and resurrection. "Jesus answered, Verily, verily, I say unto thee, Except one be born of water and the Spirit, he cannot enter into the kingdom of God" (John 3:5). "But if the Spirit of him that raised up Jesus from the dead dwelleth in you, he that raised up Christ Jesus from the dead shall give life also to your mortal bodies through his Spirit that dwelleth in you" (Rom. 8:11). (4) He is the source of the _miraculous._ "But if I by the Spirit of God cast out demons, then is the kingdom of God come upon you" (Matt. 12:28). "To another faith, in the same Spirit; and to another gifts of healing, in the one Spirit; ... but all these worketh the one and the same Spirit, dividing to each one severally even as he will" (1 Cor. 12:9, 11). Thus in his works, his characteristics, the things he suffers, his attributes and his achievements, we have a fivefold cord of testimony that clearly demonstrates the Spirit's personality and divinity. IV THE SPIRIT AND JOHN THE BAPTIST The first mention of the Holy Spirit in the New Testament is in connection with John the Baptist: "There was in the days of Herod, king of Judæa, a certain priest named Zacharias, of the course of Abijah: and he had a wife of the daughters of Aaron, and her name was Elisabeth. And they were both righteous before God, walking in all the commandments and ordinances of the Lord blameless" (Luke 1:5, 6). This Zacharias was taking his turn in the temple service, and an angel appeared unto him and announced that in answer to his prayer his wife Elisabeth should bear a son whose name should be called John; that he should be great, and should drink no wine nor strong drink, and (Luke 1:15) "he shall be filled with the Holy Spirit, even from his mother's womb"; and "his father Zacharias was _filled with the Holy Spirit_, and prophesied, saying, Blessed be the Lord, the God of Israel; for he hath visited and wrought redemption for his people" (Luke 1:67, 68). And the child John grew and "waxed strong in spirit, and was in the deserts till the day of his showing unto Israel" (Luke 1:80). His private life was spent in the desert solitudes, where he was being strengthened in spirit for the great work God had prepared for him. This work had been foretold by the Holy Spirit. It spake through Isaiah the prophet (40:3), saying: "The voice of one that crieth, Prepare ye in the wilderness the way of Jehovah; make level in the desert a highway for our God. Every valley shall be exalted, and every mountain and hill shall be made low; and the rough places a plain: and the glory of Jehovah shall be revealed, and all flesh shall see it together." Again, Malachi (3:1) says: "Behold, I send my messenger, and he shall prepare the way before me." In fulfillment of these predictions of the Spirit came John the Baptist in the fifteenth year of the reign of Tiberius Caesar, preaching the baptism of repentance for the remission of sins. Great multitudes flocked to his preaching and baptism. Among others came Jesus of Nazareth, and "on the morrow he seeth Jesus coming unto him, and saith, Behold, the Lamb of God, that taketh away the sin of the world" (John 1:29). "This is he of whom I said, After me cometh a man who is become before me: for he was before me. And I knew him not; but that he should be made manifest to Israel, for this cause came I baptizing in water. And John bare witness, saying, I have beheld the Spirit descending as a dove out of heaven; and it abode upon him. And I knew him not: but he that sent me to baptize in water, he said unto me, Upon whomsoever thou shalt see the Spirit descending, and abiding upon him, the same is he that baptizeth in the Holy Spirit. And I have seen, and have borne witness that this is the Son of God" (John 1:30-34). The next mention of the Holy Spirit by John the Baptist is in reference to the baptism in the Holy Spirit and in fire. In order that the reader may have a clear understanding of this disputed and difficult subject, I shall present the testimonies of the four Evangelists in parallel columns [paragraphs]: MATT. 3:10-12. And even now the axe lieth at the root of the trees: every tree therefore that bringeth not forth good fruit is hewn down, and cast into the fire. I indeed baptize you in water unto repentance: but he that after me is mightier than I, whose shoes I am not worthy to bear: he shall baptize you in the Holy Spirit and in fire: whose fan is in his hand, and he will thoroughly cleanse his threshing-floor; and he will gather his wheat into the garner, but the chaff he will burn up with unquenchable fire. MARK 1:7, 8. And he preached, saying There cometh after me he that is mightier than I, the latchet of whose shoes I am not worthy to stoop down and unloose. I baptize you in water; but he shall baptize you in the Holy Spirit. LUKE 3:9, 16, 17. And even now the axe also lieth at the root of the trees: every tree therefore that bringeth not forth good fruit is hewn down, and cast into the fire.... John answered, saying unto them all, I indeed baptize you in water; but there cometh he that is mightier than I, the latchet of whose shoes I am not worthy to unloose; he shall baptize you in the Holy Spirit and in fire: whose fan is in his hand, thoroughly to cleanse his threshing-floor and to gather the wheat into his garner; but the chaff he will burn up with unquenchable fire. JOHN 1:33. And I knew him not: but he that sent me to baptize in water, he said unto me, Upon whomsoever thou shalt see the Spirit descending, and abiding upon him, the same is he that baptizeth in the Holy Spirit. John is preaching to a mixed multitude composed of those who would accept his teaching and baptism, and of those who would accept neither. Many the former would become disciples of Jesus and receive the baptism of the Holy Spirit to qualify them to take up the work of the Master and carry it on until the church would be established and the gospel fully revealed to men. The baptism of the Spirit, a purely supernatural thing, was necessary to qualify them for this work. Others would "reject for themselves the counsel of God, being not baptized of him." These should at last "have their part in the lake that burneth with fire and brimstone." That such a division was meant by John becomes evident if we examine the context carefully. In the above parallel columns the reader will observe that Matthew and Luke use the expression "in the Holy Spirit and in fire." They both use two illustrations to show what is meant by "in fire." One of the illustrations immediately precedes and the other immediately follows the expression "in the Holy Spirit and in fire," seemingly for the specific purpose of guarding against a failure to understand the expression "in fire." The illustration that precedes in both instances is: "Therefore every tree that bringeth not forth good fruit is hewn down and cast into the fire." The illustration that follows in each instance is: "He will burn up the chaff in unquenchable fire." With these forcible illustrations to guard the passage, can any one fail to understand what is meant by the baptism in fire? The reader will also observe that neither Mark nor John refers to the baptism in fire, and neither uses any illustration to explain it, because no illustration is necessary. Where the baptism of fire is used there was always something destroyed by fire. This interpretation harmonizes with the universal use of the word "fire" in the New Testament. (1) _In not a single instance is it used to denote a spiritual blessing conferred upon the good_. (2) _In not a single instance does it refer to the work of the Holy Spirit in purifying sinners_. It is connected with judgments, punishments, fiery indignation, devouring adversaries, consuming, and even with hell itself; but in no case does it refer to the power of God in the scheme of redemption to convert and save men. Neither does the baptism of the Holy Spirit refer to cleansing men from sin and saving them. _It was not given for that purpose_. This is a foolish dream born out of the castaway doctrine of the total depravity of man and his total disability to hear, believe and obey the truth. Those who claim the baptism of the Holy Spirit to-day claim that it is the regenerating, converting, purifying power of God. _But the Bible does not so teach_. In every instance in which the word "purify" is found in the New Testament it is an act of personal volition--_something a man must do for himself._ John 11:55: "Now the passover of the Jews was at hand: and many went up to Jerusalem out of the country before the passover, to purify themselves." Acts 21:24: "These take, and purify thyself with them, and be at charges for them, that they may shave their heads; and all shall know that there is no truth in the things whereof they have been informed concerning thee; but that thou thyself also walkest orderly, keeping the law." Acts 21:26: "Then Paul took the men, and the next day purifying himself with them went into the temple, declaring the fulfilment of the days of purification, until the offering was offered for every one of them." Jas. 4:8: "Draw nigh to God, and he will draw nigh to you. Cleanse your hands, ye sinners; and purify your hearts, ye doubleminded." 1 Pet. 1:22: "Seeing ye have purified your souls in your obedience to the truth unto unfeigned love of the brethren, love one another from the heart fervently." 1 John 3:3: "And every one that hath this hope set on him purifieth himself, even as he is pure." "Men must cleanse themselves from wrong in thought, word and deed, and purify their souls in obeying the truth. The Bible teaches that this is God's way of purifying sinners" (_H.R. Pritchard, "Addresses,"_ p. 323). From this chapter the reader will obtain the following Scripture facts: 1. The Holy Spirit rested on John the Baptist from his mother's womb. 2. The Holy Spirit filled his father Zacharias so that he prophesied. 3. The Holy Spirit bore witness to Jesus by descending and abiding upon him, enabling John to identify him. 4. John promised a baptism in the Holy Spirit to some of his auditors and threatened others with a baptism in fire. 1 Pet. 1:11, 12: "Searching what time or what manner of time the Spirit of Christ which was in them did point unto, when it testified beforehand the sufferings of Christ, and the glories that should follow them. To whom it was revealed, that not unto themselves, but unto you, did they minister these things, which now have been announced unto you through them that preached the gospel unto you by the Holy Spirit sent forth from heaven: which things angels desire to look into." V THE SPIRIT AND JESUS The relation sustained by the Holy Spirit to Jesus Christ is a twofold one. First: He predicted by the holy prophets the great facts in the life of the coming one. Second: He associated himself with that one after he came. 1. THE TIME OF HIS COMING WAS CLEARLY FORETOLD. He was to come "in the last days," or in the end of the Jewish Dispensation. "And it shall come to pass in the latter days, that the mountain of Jehovah's house shall be established on the top of the mountains, and shall be exalted above the hills; and all nations shall flow unto it" (Isa. 2:2). 2. HE WAS TO COME WHILE THE SECOND TEMPLE WAS IN EXISTENCE. "Behold, I send my messenger, and he shall prepare the way before me: and the Lord, whom ye seek, will suddenly come _to his temple_; and the messenger of the covenant, whom ye desire, behold, he cometh, saith Jehovah of hosts" (Mal. 3:1). 3. THE PLACE OF HIS NATIVITY WAS A MATTER OF PROPHECY. "But thou, Bethlehem Ephrathah, which art little to be among the thousands of Judah, out of thee shall one come forth unto me that is to be ruler in Israel; whose goings forth are from of old, from everlasting" (Mic. 5:2). 4. HIS LINEAGE WAS DECLARED IN THE JEWISH SCRIPTURES. (1) _He was to be a descendant of Abraham._ "In thee shall all the families of the earth be blessed" (Gen. 12:3). "For verily not of angels doth he take hold, but he taketh hold of the seed of Abraham" (Heb. 2:16). (2) _He was to be of the tribe of Judah._ "For it is evident that our Lord hath sprung out of Judah; as to which tribe Moses spake nothing concerning priests" (Heb. 7:14). (3) _He was to be of the house of David._ "And it shall come to pass in that day, that the root of Jesse, which standeth for an ensign of the peoples, unto him shall the nations seek; and his resting-place shall be glorious" (Isa. 11:10). 5. HIS CHARACTER WAS MINUTELY DESCRIBED BY THE PROPHETS. (1) _His wisdom_. "And the Spirit of Jehovah shall rest upon him, the spirit of wisdom and understanding, the spirit of counsel and might, the spirit of knowledge and of the fear of Jehovah" (Isa. 11:2). (2) _His obedience_. "For I am come down from heaven, not to do mine own will, but the will of him that sent me" (John 6:38). (3) _His love of righteousness_. "Thou hast loved righteousness, and hated wickedness: Therefore God, thy God, hath anointed thee with the oil of gladness above thy fellows" (Ps. 45:7). (4) _His gentleness and tenderness._ "He will not cry, nor lift up his voice, nor cause it to be heard in the street. A bruised reed will he not break, and a dimly burning wick will he not quench: he will bring forth justice in truth" (Isa. 42:2, 3). (5) _His compassion_. "The Spirit of the Lord Jehovah is upon me; because Jehovah hath anointed me to preach good tidings unto the meek; he hath sent me to bind up the broken-hearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives, and the opening of the prison to them that are bound" (Isa. 61:1). 6. HIS BETRAYAL AND TRIAL. As we approach the closing scenes of Christ's life the prophecies become more minute and remarkable. (1) _The betrayal_. "And I said unto them, If ye think good, give me my hire; and if not, forbear. So they weighed for my hire thirty pieces of silver. And Jehovah said unto me, Cast it unto the potter, the goodly price that I was prized at by them. And I took the thirty pieces of silver, and cast them unto the potter, in the house of Jehovah" (Zech. 11:12, 13). (2) _His demeanor when on trial_. "He was oppressed, yet when he was afflicted he opened not his mouth; as a lamb that is led to the slaughter, and as a sheep that before its shearers is dumb, so he opened not His mouth" (Isa. 53:7). (3) _When crucified, the soldiers were to part his garments among them and cast lots for his vesture_. "They part my garments among them, And upon my vesture do they cast lots" (Ps. 22:18). (4) _He was to be numbered with the transgressors._ "Therefore will I divide him a portion with the great, and he shall divide the spoil with the strong; because he poured out his soul unto death, and was numbered with the transgressors; yet he bare the sin of many, and made intercession for the transgressors" (Isa. 53:12). (5) _He was to perish amid cruel mockings._ "But I am a worm, and no man; a reproach of men, and despised of the people. All they that see me laugh me to scorn: they shoot out the lip, they shake the head, saying, Commit thyself unto Jehovah; let him deliver him: let him rescue him, seeing he delighted in him" (Ps. 22:6-8). 7. HIS RESURRECTION AND CORONATION. (1) _He was to rise from the dead_. "For thou wilt not leave my soul to Sheol; neither wilt thou suffer thy holy one to see corruption" (Ps. 16:10). (2) _His ascension was also a subject of prophecy_. "Thou hast ascended on high, thou hast led away captives; thou hast received gifts among men, yea, among the rebellious also, that Jehovah God might dwell with them" (Ps. 68:18). (3) _His coronation is foretold and described._ "I saw in the night visions, and, behold, there came with the clouds of heaven one like unto a son of man, and he came even to the ancient of days, and they brought him near before him. And there was given him dominion, and glory, and a kingdom, that all the peoples, nations, and languages should serve him: his dominion is an everlasting dominion, which shall not pass away, and his kingdom that which shall not be destroyed" (Dan. 7:13, 14). The above are only a few of the many predictions made by the Holy Spirit as to the character, life, sacrifice and dominion of our Lord. We notice now the work of the Spirit in, upon and through him. 1. HE WAS CONCEIVED BY THE HOLY SPIRIT. "Now the birth of Jesus Christ was on this wise: When his mother Mary had been betrothed to Joseph, before they came together she was found with child of the Holy Spirit" (Matt. 1: 18). "And the angel answered and said unto her, The Holy Spirit shall come upon thee, and the power of the Most High shall overshadow thee: wherefore also the holy thing which is begotten shall be called the Son of God" (Luke 1:35). 2. HE WAS ANOINTED BY THE HOLY SPIRIT. "And Jesus, when he was baptized, went up straightway from the water: and lo, the heavens were opened unto him and he saw the Spirit of God descending as a dove, and coming upon him; and lo, a voice out of the heavens, saying, This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased" (Matt. 3:16, 17). "And it came to pass in those days, that Jesus came from Nazareth of Galilee, and was baptized of John in the Jordan. And straightway coming up out of the water, he saw the heavens rent asunder, and the Spirit as a dove descending upon him: and a voice came out of the heavens, Thou art my beloved Son, in thee I am well pleased" (Mark 1:9-11). "Now it came to pass, when all the people were baptized, that, Jesus also having been baptized and praying, the heaven was opened, and the Holy Spirit descended in a bodily form, as a dove, upon him, and a voice came out of heaven, Thou art my beloved Son; in thee I am well pleased" (Luke 3:21, 22). "And John bare witness, saying, I have beheld the Spirit descending as a dove out of heaven; and it abode upon him, and I knew him not: but he that sent me to baptize in water, he said unto me, Upon whomsoever thou shalt see the Spirit descending, and abiding upon him, the same is he that baptizeth in the Holy Spirit" (John 1: 32, 33). 3. HE WAS LED BY THE HOLY SPIRIT. "Then was Jesus led up of the Spirit into the wilderness to be tempted of the devil" (Matt. 4:1). "And straightway the Spirit driveth him forth into the wilderness" (Mark 1:12). "And Jesus, full of the Holy Spirit, returned from the Jordan, and was led in the Spirit in the wilderness" (Luke 4:1). 4. HE WROUGHT MIRACLES BY THE HOLY SPIRIT. "But if I by the Spirit of God cast out demons, then is the kingdom of God come upon you" (Matt. 12:28). "But if I by the finger of God cast out demons, then is the kingdom of God come upon you" (Luke 11:20). 5. HE OFFERED HIMSELF UP THROUGH THE HOLY SPIRIT. "How much more shall the blood of Christ, who through the eternal Spirit offered himself without blemish unto God, cleanse your conscience from dead works to serve the living God?" (Heb. 9:14). 6. HE WAS RAISED BY THE HOLY SPIRIT. "But if the Spirit of him that raised up Jesus from the dead dwelleth in you, he that raised up Christ Jesus from the dead shall give life also to your mortal bodies through his Spirit that dwelleth in you" (Rom. 8:11). "Who was declared to be the Son of God with power, according to the spirit of holiness, by the resurrection from the dead" (Rom. 1:4). 7. HE GAVE THE COMMISSION BY THE HOLY SPIRIT. "The former treatise I made, O Theophilus, concerning all that Jesus began both to do and to teach, until the day in which he was received up, after that he had given commandment through the Holy Spirit unto the apostles whom he had chosen" (Acts 1:1, 2). 8. HIS ASCENSION AND CORONATION WERE ANNOUNCED BY THE HOLY SPIRIT. "Being therefore by the right hand of God exalted, and having received of the Father the promise of the Holy Spirit, he hath poured forth this, which you see and hear" (Acts 2:33). "Let all the house of Israel therefore know assuredly, that God hath made him both Lord and Christ, this Jesus whom ye crucified" (Acts 2:36). Thus the Spirit predicted the coming of Jesus and the great facts of his birth, baptism, anointing, miracles, death, burial and resurrection, ascension and coronation, and then came from the Father to carry on the work of extending his kingdom. In the light of this testimony we can truly say with Paul in 2 Cor. 12:3: "Wherefore I make known unto you, that no man speaking in the Spirit of God saith, Jesus is anathema: and no man can say, Jesus is Lord, _but in the Holy Spirit_." "I manifested thy name unto the men whom thou gavest me out of the world: thine they were, and thou gavest them to me; and they have kept thy word. Now they know that all things whatsoever thou hast given me are from thee: for the words which thou gavest me I have given unto them; and they received them, and know of a truth that I came forth from thee, and they believe that thou didst send me.... While I was with them, I kept them in thy name which thou hast given me: and I guarded them, and not one of them perished, but the son of perdition; that the scripture might be fulfilled.... I have given them thy word; and the world hated them, because they are not of the world, even as I am not of the world. I pray not that thou shouldst take them from the world, but that thou shouldst keep them from the evil one" (John 17:6-8, 12, 14, 15). VI THE SPIRIT AND THE APOSTLES In interpreting Scripture, attention should be paid not only to the speaker and his message, but also to the parties addressed. There are passages that are universal in their application, others that are national, and still others that are addressed to individuals only. Many promises are addressed to children of God only, and do not apply to those who are not citizens of Christ's kingdom. Again, there are commands that are addressed solely to men in a state of condemnation, and have no relevancy when applied to the children of God. Christ uttered many things to his chosen ambassadors, chosen to establish his kingdom on earth, which were never intended to be applied to any others. It is a mistake for the Christian of to-day to make _universal_, promises that were intended by our Lord for special individuals. It confuses the whole scheme of redemption and makes a mystery out of Scriptures that are perfectly clear when proper limitations are made. Things addressed to a chosen few have been wrongly applied to all and great confusion has resulted therefrom. It is my purpose in this chapter to notice some of these. The fourteenth, fifteenth and sixteenth chapters of John contain a record of a private talk by our Lord to the twelve, and to _them alone_. Jesus was approaching the close of his earthly ministry. He had chosen his apostles, and they had left all to follow him. He had eaten, slept and companied with them. He had taught them the great truths upon which his kingdom would be founded. They had learned to depend upon him for advice, instruction, comfort and guidance. They confessed this when they said, "Thou hast the words of eternal life." He was soon to leave them, and knew that they would feel that they were "as sheep without a shepherd." He wishes them to know that they should not be left orphaned. He tells them, "I will pray the Father, and he shall give you _another_ Comforter that he may abide with you for ever," or to the remotest age. That is, as long as you shall have need of him. The Greek word translated "for ever" does not necessarily mean unlimited duration. It is often applied to much shorter periods, even to a lifetime. The word "Comforter" is a translation from the Greek word _Paracletos_, and it is a very inadequate translation. There is no word within my knowledge that will fully express in English the Greek word. It is much better to Anglicize the word into the English "Paraclete." This word is used of the Holy Spirit only four times in the New Testament, and is only used by the Saviour in his private address to the twelve, found in the fourteenth, fifteenth and sixteenth chapters of John. It is never applied to the work of the Holy Spirit in relation to mankind in general. It is promised only to the chosen, and Jesus tells them that _the world_ can not receive "him." This Paraclete is a distinct gift to the twelve, to take the place of the personal presence and guidance of the leader who is preparing to leave them. What is the nature of this promised one? By examining the lexicons we find that Paraclete is: 1. One called or sent to assist another. 2. One who pleads the cause of another. 3. A monitor. 4. An instructor. 5. A guide. 6. A helper. 7. A supporter. 8. A comforter. Of this Paraclete Jesus says: 1. Whom the world _can not receive_. 2. He dwelleth with _you_ and shall be in _you_. 3. He shall teach _you_ all things. 4. He shall bring all things to _your_ remembrance whatsoever I have spoken unto _you_. 5. He shall testify of me. 6. He shall convict the world of sin. 7. He shall convict the world of righteousness. 8. He shall convict the world of judgment. 9. He shall guide _you_ into all truth. 10. He shall show _you_ things to come. 11. He shall receive of mine and show it _unto you_. Here we have eleven distinct things that the Paraclete is to do for the apostles. All these offices of the Paraclete were needed by the apostles in their work of proclaiming Christianity and establishing the church. They were ignorant and unlearned, humanly speaking, and could never have gone forth to success without this supernatural Paraclete. They took no thought what they should say, for it was given them at the proper time. Others have to take thought. Paul tells Timothy to "study to show thyself approved unto God, a workman that needeth not to be ashamed, rightly dividing the word of truth." Timothy had to study because he did not possess the Paraclete. Yet Timothy did possess the gift of the Spirit. "For which cause I put thee in remembrance that thou stir up the gift of God, which is in thee through the laying on of my hands" (2 Tim. 1:6). Men to-day are required to study that they may know what to say. A failure to observe this exhortation of the apostle is the reason why a great many do not know what to say. The Paraclete was not only an instructor, but he was an infallible guide. This is evident from the fact that no apostle ever contradicted another nor said anything foolish. I never heard a man of to-day lay claim to being guided "into all truth by the Spirit," who did not say something foolish in the next five minutes. If any man claims the direct guidance of the Spirit to-day, he can not consistently deny that same claim to others. But we have all sorts of men teaching all sorts of doctrines, often contradicting each other. Does the Spirit guide one man to preach up Universalism and another man to preach it down! The same is true of Calvinism, Mormonism or any other ism. This teaching places the Spirit in a very unenviable position, that of preaching four or five different teachings at the same time, each within a half-mile of the other. Suppose a preacher were to do that! What would the people think of him? It would ruin the reputation of any preacher in Christendom. There is something wrong, and that something is _to apply to the world_ the promise of the Paraclete, which was _only given to the apostles_. Paul tells Timothy: "The things thou hast heard of me among many witnesses, the same commit thou to faithful men who shall be able to teach others also." Was that not an impertinence in Paul if Timothy had the same divine leading as he? Was it not impertinence in Jude to say that the faith was "once for all delivered to the saints," if there were deliverances being constantly made? What need to preach the gospel to the heathen world if God is directly leading men into the truth? What need for a New Testament if all men possess this Paraclete? How can one man deny the claims of another whom he admits to be divinely guided into all truth? Some have thought that Christ bestowed the Paraclete upon the apostles when he breathed upon them and said: "Receive ye the Holy Spirit." At best that was a prophetic and not an actual bestowal, for after that onbreathing we find Peter (Acts I) calling upon the assembly of brethren to _take a vote_ as to who should succeed Judas in the apostolic college. If he had possessed the Paraclete at that time, he would not have been compelled to resort to the judgment of his brethren to determine such a question. Moreover, Christ indicated when the Paraclete would come, by stating the work that would follow his coming: "_When he is come_ he shall convict the world [age] of sin, of righteousness and of judgment." How did he do this? 1. His first act at his coming was to baptize the apostles in the Spirit and endow them with the Paraclete. "Ye shall be baptized in the Holy Spirit not many days hence" (Acts 1:5). 2. When the Spirit baptized these apostles with divine guidance he began his work of convicting the world through them. (1) _To convict the world of sin_. Not of sin in general. It is a mistaken idea that the Spirit is sent to personally convict a man of the sin of lying, stealing or defrauding his neighbor. When I was a boy in old Kentucky the colored people used to hold great revivals; they generally selected corn-planting-time or harvest-time for these meetings. Many of them would lie for days in a cataleptic condition, which, they said, was a "conviction of the Spirit." A man would go groaning and moping to his task because he was "under conviction of the Holy Ghost." The above passage teaches nothing of the kind, nor does any other passage in the New Testament teach it. There is not a case in the New Testament where the Holy Spirit ever made an issue with a man to personally convict him of sin. All men are convicted of sin by the Spirit, but it is the Spirit working through the preaching of Spirit-filled men. "And he, when he is come, will convict the world [the Jewish world or age] in respect of sin, because they _believe not on me_." They called him a blasphemer, they rejected him, they took him with wicked hands and crucified and slew him; and the first thrust of the Spirit on the day of Pentecost was at this sinful act of the world: "This same Jesus whom ye took with wicked hands and crucified and slew, God hath raised him up and made him both Lord and Christ." (2) "_Of righteousness, because I go to the Father, and ye behold me no more_." If this passage teaches that men are individually convicted of sin, it also teaches that they are individually convicted of righteousness, and this would be a most herculean task, even for the Spirit, to perform. It is a contradiction of terms to say that the Spirit convicts a man of sin, then, in the next breath, that he convicts the same man of righteousness. And yet, the Spirit was to convict men "of righteousness"; but whose righteousness? _The righteousness of Jesus Christ_. "Of righteousness, because I go to the Father, and ye behold me no more." When Jesus was on earth he claimed to be the Son of God; he claimed to come down from heaven; he claimed to be God manifest in the flesh; but, at the same time, he was a "man of sorrows and acquainted with grief." "There was no beauty that we should desire him." On this account the Jews refused to accept him as the Son of God; they denied his claim to divinity and called him a blasphemer for making himself equal with God; they believed that he was unrighteous in making that claim, and Jesus died because his claims were not accepted by his people; but after his death he was crowned with glory and honor at the right hand of the Majesty on high, and the Spirit came to demonstrate the righteous claims Jesus made while on earth. The Spirit came to convict men of the righteousness of Christ, and not their own righteousness. A simple illustration will probably throw light upon this thought. Forty years ago my father lived in a little village in the State of Illinois, midway between St. Louis and Indianapolis. One afternoon two young lads, covered with dust and toilworn, came to his house and told him they were sons of an elder of a Christian Church in Indiana; that they had been robbed in St. Louis, and were making their way home on foot; they asked for something to eat. My father doubted their claims; he felt that they were impostors; but my mother, who had boys of her own out in the world, and who always believed the best of everybody, said: "We will feed them and care for them during the night." Their wants were supplied, and they were given lodging for the night, and sent on their way the next morning with a good lunch for the day. Six months afterward, I preached in Monroe County, Indiana, and, stopping with one of the elders of the church, two young lads were introduced to me as his boys. They asked me if my father lived in Illinois. I told them he did. They then recounted their experience at my father's home, and said to me: "We would be glad when you return home if you will tell your father that you stopped at our house, and that you know we were what we claimed to be when we sought his aid." When I returned to my father's home I convicted him of the righteousness of those boys in the claim which they set forth, and which he had hitherto doubted. In a similar manner the Spirit of God came down to convict the world, that had rejected the claims of Jesus, of his righteousness in making those claims. (3) _He will convict the world of judgment, because the "prince of this world is judged_." This passage does not say, as many preachers quote it, "of judgment _to come_," but "of judgment, because the prince of this world is judged." This Scripture is often quoted to show that a judgment was pronounced upon Satan, who is often called the prince of this world. The word for prince in the original is used thirty-seven times--thirty-two times it clearly means an earthly ruler, and five times it may apply to Satan. There is no reason why the expression, "the prince of this world," may not mean an earthly ruler. It evidently refers to Pontius Pilate, in John 14:30, when Jesus says: "The prince of this world cometh, and he hath nothing in me." Pilate justifies that statement when he says: "I find no fault in this man." Nevertheless, as prince of this world, he pronounced the death-sentence and delivered him up to be crucified. This was the judgment of the prince of this world, but the descent of the Holy Spirit on the day of Pentecost reversed this judgment and pronounced a righteous judgment in its place, thus judging Pilate "the prince of this world." The above three things were accomplished on the day of Pentecost by the coming of the Spirit. The Jews were convicted of sin in rejecting and crucifying Christ; they were also convicted of the righteousness of Christ in claiming to be the Son of God, and likewise convinced that God had raised up Jesus and made him both Lord and Christ. In accomplishing this work the Spirit did it through the instrumentality of gospel preaching, and all subsequent convictions of sin, of righteousness and of judgment have been accomplished through the same agency, and will be till the end of time. This Paraclete continued with the apostles till the end of their ministry, guiding, leading, and showing them "things to come," bringing all things to their remembrance that Christ had spoken unto them. Under this direct and supernatural control they preached the gospel to all the nations of the earth, and established the church with all its officers, ordinances, privileges and duties. They wrote the epistles to the churches and gave to mankind the New Testament, "the perfect law of liberty." The work of the Paraclete being finished, and his mission ended, no man has been guided, shown and directed personally by him since. God does no unnecessary work, and the work of the Paraclete is not necessary now. His work remains in the teachings and lives of the apostles. There are many things in the above-mentioned chapters that rightfully have a universal application, but the special promises concerning the Paraclete are not included in those things. "Wherefore he saith, When he ascended on high, he led captivity captive, And gave gifts unto men.... And he gave some to be apostles; and some, prophets; and some, evangelists; and some, pastors and teachers; for the perfecting of the saints, unto the work of ministering, unto the building up of the body of Christ: till we all attain unto the unity of the faith, and of the knowledge of the Son of God, unto a fullgrown man, unto the measure of the stature of the fulness of Christ" (Eph. 4:8, 11-13). VII THE SPIRIT AND THE APOSTOLIC CHURCH That the Holy Spirit sustained a relation to the apostolic church that it does not sustain to the church of to-day is clearly evident to the student of the Divine Word. The church of the apostolic age had no New Testament as we have to-day. Hence the necessity of a more direct and immediate leading than is necessary to-day. The apostle Paul states the difference between the two when he says: "For we know in part, and we prophesy in part; but when that which is perfect is come, that which is in part shall be done away." This is not a contrast between the imperfections of our day and the perfection of heaven, but between the imperfection of the apostolic church and the perfection of the church of to-day. That which is perfect _has come_; a perfect revelation of Christian character, a perfect gospel, a perfect "law of liberty," a perfect New Testament. The apostolic church was limited to knowing _in part_ and prophesying _in part_. "But to each one is given the manifestation of the Spirit to profit withal. For to one is given through the Spirit the word of wisdom; and to another the word of knowledge, according to the same Spirit: to another faith, in the same Spirit; to another gifts of healings, in the one Spirit; and to another workings of miracles; and to another prophecy; and to another discernings of spirits: to another divers kinds of tongues; and to another the interpretation of tongues: but all these worketh the one and the same Spirit, dividing to each one severally even as he will" (1 Cor. 12:7-11). Now, here was manifestly a condition in the first churches that does not exist to-day. Here are various direct and supernatural workings that are manifestations of spiritual power resulting from a direct _gift of the Spirit_ to members of apostolic churches. Now, there was a purpose to be accomplished by this special gift of the Spirit. In the fourth chapter of Ephesians the apostle tells us the purpose of this gift. "And he gave some, apostles; and some, prophets; and some, evangelists; and some, pastors and teachers; _for_ the perfecting of the saints, _for_ the work of the ministry, _for_ the edifying of the body of Christ: _Till we all come to the unity of the faith, and of the knowledge of the Son of God_." This gift of the Spirit accompanied the baptism of the Spirit on the day of Pentecost. This brings us to a very-interesting question; viz., Was the promise of the "gift of the Holy Spirit," referred to by Peter on the day of Pentecost, a universal one to all who obey the gospel, or was it limited to those of the apostolic church who received it that they might manifest it in a supernatural way "to profit withal," or to the profit of all? There are some who claim that "the gift of the Spirit" is one that belongs to all who obey the gospel to-day, that it is independent of the instrumentality of the gospel, and is the peculiar heritage of those who repent and are baptized for the remission of sins; that it performs a work in them other than is performed by the Spirit operating through the truth. There are others who claim that the "gift of the Spirit" was a supernatural power and was conferred on persons to qualify them to do a work or works peculiar to the age of miracles which obtained in the apostolic church. The only way to settle this is by appealing to (1) the consciousness of individuals, (2) to the Divine Word. Before appealing to either of these tribunals, there are a few facts that we must consider. (1) _This is the only passage in the New Testament that connects "the gift of the Spirit" with obedience to the gospel in the preaching of the apostles_. We have remission of sins so connected on various occasions (see Acts 5:31; 10:43; 13:38; 26:18, etc., etc.), but nowhere else is this "gift of the Spirit" promised. If it is to be as universal as "remission of sins," ought it not to have the same prominence in apostolic preaching? This is an important factor in settling the matter. (2) In the only instance in which it is promised it is inexorably connected with _baptism for the remission of sins_. It is promised to no others, and all others are ruled out by the explicit terms of the promise. With these facts before us, let us now _appeal to the consciousness of the individual_. If we consider numbers, it is safe to say that ninety-five per cent. of those who to-day claim "the gift of the Spirit" have never been baptized for the remission of sins. _They have never performed the conditions upon which the gift was bestowed_. Are they competent to testify? Of the remaining five per cent., there is not one who can give any definite reason why he is _conscious_ of the personal indwelling of the Spirit within him. To demonstrate my statement I appeal to the consciousness of my readers. Are you _conscious_ of any influence within you except a holy joy that comes from obedience to the will of God? If you are not, what evidence have you that the Spirit personally dwells in you? So much for the argument from consciousness. _Now let us appeal to the Divine Word_. When the apostle Peter promised "the gift of the Spirit," he followed it with the words, "_For the promise_ is to you and to your children, and to all them that are afar off, even as many as the Lord our God shall call." He distinctly states that the gift of the Spirit is in fulfillment of "the promise." Now, is there in the Scripture any promise of a personal indwelling of the Holy Spirit as a _result of obedience_? Let us search the words of the Master. In Luke 11:13 our Lord says: "If ye then, being evil, know how to give good gifts unto your children, how much more shall your heavenly Father give the Holy Spirit to them that ask him?" This passage may be disposed of by saying that in the original it is _a holy spirit_ and does not refer to _the Holy Spirit_ at all. It represents God's willingness to give _a holy disposition_. Matthew explains it in the words "good gifts to them that ask him." In John 7:38, 39 we have recorded another promise: "He that believeth on me, as the scripture hath said, from within him shall flow rivers of living water. But this spake he of the Spirit, which they that believed on him were to receive: for the Spirit was not yet given; because Jesus was not yet glorified." This is evidently a supernatural gift, as he represents the recipient of it as a fountain from which flows rivers of living water. This is obviously not true of us to-day. Our Saviour also dates the bestowal as following his glorification, or on the day of Pentecost. In Mark 16:16-18: "He that believeth and is baptized shall be saved; but he that disbelieveth shall be condemned. And these signs shall accompany them that believe: in my name shall they cast out demons; they shall speak with new tongues; they shall take up serpents, and if they drink any deadly thing, it shall in no wise hurt them; they shall lay hands on the sick, and they shall recover." These five things that accompanied the believers are all supernatural. Of the three promises of Jesus--which are all that are recorded in the New Testament--only two refer to the Holy Spirit, and both of these to its _supernatural manifestation_. If we go back of the Saviour to the Old Testament, we find a distinct promise of the gift of the Spirit: "And it shall come to pass afterward, that I will pour out my Spirit upon all flesh; and your sons and your daughters shall prophesy, your old men shall dream dreams, your young men shall see visions: and also upon the servants and upon the hand-maids in those days will I pour out my Spirit" (Joel 2:28, 29). This promise is the one quoted by Peter to explain the manifestations on the day of Pentecost to the people drawn together by that wonderful event. From it he delivers by the Spirit a sermon on the claims of our Lord. He shows that they had taken the Lord by wicked hands and had crucified and slain him; that God had raised him from the dead and had exalted him to his right hand; had given him the _promise of the Holy Spirit_; that what they _saw_ and _heard_ was the fulfillment of Joel's promise. This promise was not simply to the apostles, for we read in the preceding chapter that the apostles, and the women and Mary the mother of Jesus, and his brethren to the number of one hundred and twenty all continued with one accord in prayer and supplication. "And when the day of Pentecost was now come, they were all together in one place. And suddenly there came from heaven a sound as of the rushing of a mighty wind, and it filled all the house where they were sitting. And there appeared unto them tongues parting asunder, like as of fire; and it sat upon _each of them_. And they _were all filled_ with the Holy Spirit, and began _to speak_ with other tongues, as the Spirit gave them utterance." This shows that the gift of the Spirit came upon all the followers Jesus left behind him. When the multitude were convicted by the apostle's discourse, they "said unto Peter and the rest of the apostles, Brethren, what shall we do? And Peter said unto them, Repent ye, and be baptized every one of you in the name of Jesus Christ unto the remission of your sins: and ye shall receive the gift of the Holy Spirit. _For to you is the promise_, and to your children, and to all that are afar off, even as many as the Lord our God shall call unto him." What promise! Evidently the promise of God, "I will pour out of my spirit upon all flesh." There is no other promise in the mind of Peter and his hearers, and I know of no other promise the reader can have in mind. This position is amply supported by after-developments. "While Peter yet spake these words, the Holy Spirit fell on all them that _heard the word_. And they of the circumcision that believed were amazed, as many as came with Peter, because that on the Gentiles also was poured out the gift of the Holy Spirit. For they heard them speak with tongues, and magnify God. Then answered Peter, Can any man forbid the water, that these should not be baptized, who have _received the Holy Spirit_ as well as we?" (Acts 10:44-47). This was in fulfillment of the promise not only to the Jews, but the Gentiles, whom the Jews regarded as "far off." Paul, speaking to Gentiles, says: "But now in Christ Jesus, ye that were once far off are made nigh in the blood of Christ" (Eph. 2:13). In this incident "the gift of the Holy Spirit" and "receiving the Spirit" are the same. And when Peter was taken to task for baptizing the Gentiles, he defends himself on the ground that God, who knows the heart, bore witness to them, _giving them the Holy Spirit, "the like gift as he did also unto us_." In the above instances, Pentecost and the house of Cornelius, the gift of the Spirit was the result of the baptism of the Spirit, the baptism of the Spirit was an outpouring or falling of the Spirit upon the Jews at Pentecost and the Gentiles at the house of Cornelius, to signify his acceptance of both Jew and Gentile into the kingdom of Christ. Paul undoubtedly refers to this when he says: "For in one Spirit were we all baptized into one body, whether _Jews_ or _Greeks"_ (1 Cor. 12:13). The baptism of the Spirit ceased when its object--the making of one body out of Jews and Gentiles--was accomplished, but "the gift of the Spirit" did not cease. It was conferred by the laying on of the hands of the apostles through all their lives. A few illustrations may be mentioned from the Scriptures. _The Samaritans_. When a bloody persecution arose at Jerusalem, following the death of Stephen, the disciples were scattered and went everywhere preaching the Word. Philip went to the city of Samaria and preached Christ to them. "But when they believed Philip preaching good tidings concerning the kingdom of God and the name of Jesus Christ, they were baptized, both men and women" (Acts 8:12). "For as yet _the Holy Spirit was fallen upon none of them_: only they had been baptized into the name of the Lord Jesus" (Acts 8:16). If the gift of the Spirit is to all baptized believers, why did not the Samaritans receive it? Philip was not an apostle and did not have the power to confer "the gift of the Spirit" by the imposition of hands, and, in order that they might receive this "gift," it was necessary that two apostles, Peter and John, should go to Samaria and lay hands on them, that they might receive the Spirit. Here is a clear case of baptized believers receiving the Holy Spirit by the imposition of hands. _Disciples at Ephesus_. In Acts 19 Paul met certain disciples that had received the baptism of John. He showed them that John did not preach a full gospel, which embraced a belief in Christ. "And when they heard this, they were baptized into the name of the Lord Jesus, and when Paul had _laid his hands upon them_, the Holy Spirit came on them." This is another clear case of the Spirit being given by the imposition of hands. _Timothy_. In 2 Tim. 1:6 Paul tells Timothy: "For which cause I put thee in remembrance that thou stir up the gift of God, which is in thee through the _laying on of my hands_." This is a third instance of the gift of the Spirit by the imposition of hands, and they form just _three more instances_ than can be found of the Spirit taking his personal "abode in men because they have believed and been baptized." That the Spirit was imparted to many Christians in a similar way is clear. Paul tells the brethren at Borne: "For I long to see you, that I may impart unto you some _spiritual gift_, to the end that ye may be established." It was not necessary that he see these brethren to the end that he might proclaim the gospel unto them; but it _was necessary_ that he see them that he might lay hands on them and _impart the gift_ of the Spirit. In Mark 16:17, 18 Jesus concludes the commission as follows: "And these signs shall accompany them that believe: in my name shall they cast out demons; they shall speak with new tongues; they shall take up serpents, and if they drink any deadly thing, it shall in no wise hurt them; they shall lay hands on the sick, and they shall recover." Here is clearly the promise of supernatural power which he calls "signs." Signs of what? There is but one answer that can be given: signs of the indwelling of God's Spirit by which alone they could work these signs. Are these signs in existence to-day? No thoughtful reader will so affirm. If the manifestations of the Spirit have ceased, is it not reasonable that the "gift" has also ceased? If not, we have the remarkable fact of the Spirit dwelling in man and not being able to _manifest any signs_ of his indwelling. We are now enabled to reach two conclusions of importance: First, the "gift of the Spirit" was a supernatural gift for the purpose of enabling the "believers" in apostolic days to work the "signs" which Christ said should accompany them that believe, and ceased when the signs ceased. Second, many of the exhortations of the New Testament writers were to a church whose members were filled with the supernatural power of the Spirit, and should be interpreted in the light of that fact. We give a few examples that fall under this head: "Declared to be the Son of God with power, according to the spirit of holiness" (Rom. 1:4). "But ye are ... in the Spirit, if so be that the Spirit of God dwelleth in you" (Rom. 8:9). "Ourselves also, who have the first-fruits of the Spirit" (Rom. 8:23). "My conscience bearing witness with me in the Holy Spirit" (Rom. 9:1). "Now I beseech you, brethren, by our Lord Jesus Christ, and by the love of the Spirit" (Rom. 15:30). "Now he that wrought us for this very thing is God, who gave unto us the earnest of the Spirit" (2 Cor. 5:5). "Ye were sealed with the Holy Spirit of promise, which is an earnest of our inheritance" (Eph. 1:13, 14). "Through him we both have our access in one Spirit unto the Father" (Eph. 2:18). "Be filled with the Spirit" (Eph. 5:18). "If there is therefore any ... fellowship of the Spirit" (Phil. 2:1). "Therefore he that rejecteth, rejecteth ... God, who giveth his Holy Spirit unto you" (1 Thess. 4:8). "For God gave us not a spirit, of fearfulness; but of power and love and discipline" (2 Tim. 1:7). "He saved us through the washing of regeneration and renewing of the Holy Spirit" (Tit. 3:5). "God also bearing witness with them, both by signs and wonders and by manifold powers, and by gifts of the Holy Spirit" (Heb. 2:4). "Doth the spirit which he made to dwell in us long unto envying?" (Jas. 4:5). "Ye have an anointing from the Holy One" (1 John 2: 20). "The anointing which ye received of him abideth in you" (1 John 2:27). "He hath given us of his Spirit" (1 John 4:13). All the above Scriptures become clear if we understand them to apply to a people through whom God was manifesting his presence by supernatural demonstrations, but many of them lack meaning when applied to people of God who no longer exhibit these supernatural powers. VIII THE SPIRIT AND THE WORLD Hitherto we have been treating the Holy Spirit in terms of the past, but now we come to the present tense. Is the Holy Spirit a power in the present age? If so, what kind of a power? Is he making an issue with men as a direct power and working upon them immediately, or is he working through an instrumentality, and, if so, what is the instrumentality? The Spirit is undoubtedly dealing with two classes of persons in his work to-day. First, those who are not believers, and therefore unconverted and "aliens from the commonwealth of Israel." Second, those who have believed and obeyed the gospel, and are therefore children of God. We shall devote this chapter to the influence of the Spirit upon the unbelieving world. In the very nature of things, the work of the Spirit is to make believers out of unbelievers, and convert the perverted. We all believe this. We believe that all believers are made by the power of the Spirit. We differ about whether he exercises that power directly from himself to the individual soul, or whether he exercises that power through the gospel, through the apostles and through Christ's word of truth. Reason, philosophy and experience exhausted themselves in discovering but two methods by which one spirit can exercise an influence over another. First, a direct mechanical, immediate influence taking possession of the will and influencing the mind of and controlling the speech and actions of the subject. This takes place in hypnotism and is supposed to take place in clairvoyance and clairaudience. Second, a rational moral influence exerted by ideas impressed upon the mind by teaching and words that represent ideas. There is, there can be, no third way by which one spirit can influence another. You may study till you are gray-headed or bald-headed, for that matter, and you will discover no other way. The Holy Spirit has used both of these methods in the past. 1. In the case of the apostles and prophets, he immediately, mechanically and directly controlled their actions and speech, so much so that Jesus told them that under the influence of the Spirit they should take no thought what they should say. "For it is not ye that speak, but the Holy Spirit" (Mark 13:11). "And they were all filled with the Holy Spirit, and began to speak with other tongues, as the Spirit gave them utterance" (Acts 2:4). 2. In the case of the men to whom the apostles preached on the day of Pentecost, the Spirit used a rational moral influence through the words of Peter's sermon, which conveyed ideas that swayed their minds and hearts. It is claimed by some that both of these methods are used by the Spirit to-day. The modern teaching concerning the first of these influences is well set forth in the following selection from a widely known book by L.B. Dunn, entitled "The Mission of the Spirit": "Even where the light of the gospel does not shine, and the institutions of the gospel are not enjoyed, there the Spirit acts directly upon man's heart and conscience, writes the law of God upon his mind, gives him the sense of sin and the need of forgiveness. Hence, wherever man is, there the Comforter is at work upon his heart and mind. The divine influence is imparted _unconditionally_ and _irresistibly_. The Holy Spirit is ever employed to bring man back to God; and _whether he desires it or not_, whether he is _willing_ or _unwilling_, still the Comforter comes to him with his heavenly illumination, his divine influence, convincing him of sin, and his consequent need of the mercy of God. May I not truly say that man really _has no choice_ in the matter as to whether he will or will not have this divine influence upon his soul? _He is, he must be_, enlightened and convinced, _whether he will hear or forbear_, whether he _will be saved or damned_. He _can not prevent_ the entrance of the Spirit into his heart." In connection with the above we quote also from a sermon in "The Baptist Pulpit," by Rev. J.W. Hayhurst: "God has given us no means by which the conversion of sinners, or the general revival of religion, can be effected, irrespective of the _direct_ agency of the Spirit. The gospel itself _will not do it_." These quotations give us a pretty clear and explicit statement of the theory of the direct mechanical and _immediate_ operation of the Holy Spirit upon the human spirit. The second method is aptly stated by an editorial which appeared in the _Sunday School Times_ during the year 1908: "It is a strange fact that, notwithstanding the _explicitness_ and _uniformity_ of the New Testament teachings on this subject, there is a widespread popular opinion that the Holy Spirit's work is directly and immediately on or in the heart of the unbeliever, without the intervention or agency of the Christian whatever. To hear what is said in the sermons, or sung in the hymns, or prayed in the prayers of many Christians, one might believe that the Holy Spirit is sent directly to the unbelieving sinner, to strive with him, to show him his sin, and to point him to, the Saviour; and that therefore the Christian preacher or teacher has rather to wait the results of this work of the Spirit, than to be the instrument or the avenue of this work. Many a Christian seems to think that the Holy Spirit's work is that of a _revival preacher_, in moving sinners to repentance by a _direct appeal_ to their consciences and understandings, instead of stirring up Christians to appeal, in the power of the Spirit, to unbelievers to believe and turn to God. It is true that, in this present dispensation of the Spirit, all power in the evangelizing of the world, and in the swaying of the hearts of men toward Christ and in the service of Christ, is primarily with the Holy Spirit. But it is also true that the Holy Spirit, according to the Bible teachings, works _in and by and through_ believers in Jesus. Hence if one who is not a believer in Jesus is to be won to discipleship, the question is not, 'Will the Holy Spirit work on his mind immediately, or will the Holy Spirit work through one who already believes?' for that question _the Bible has already answered_. The Holy Spirit can use the written words, like the spoken words, of a chosen messenger of God to an unbelieving soul. But in every case _the Spirit reaches the believer mediately, not immediately_." Now, these theories are directly contradictory. If one is true, the other can not be. The only question to decide is as to which one is true. Let us examine these theories in the light of reason, revelation and experience. If the Holy Spirit works directly and immediately on the heart of man, surely there should be some tangible evidence of it given in such a striking way as to demonstrate the truth of the theory. But the experience of Christendom for nineteen centuries fails to furnish a single unquestioned evidence of it. The proof of the theory is made to hinge upon far-fetched inferences drawn from Scripture statements, and even these fail to furnish the evidence sought. Let us notice some of the Scriptures that are relied upon to prove a direct operation of the Spirit in the conversion of sinners: 1. "A new heart also will I give you, and a new spirit will I put within you; and I will take away the stony heart out of your flesh, and I will give you a heart of flesh. And I will put my Spirit within you, and cause you to walk in my statutes, and ye shall keep mine ordinances, and do them" (Ezek. 36:26, 27). This passage has been much relied upon to prove the theory of an abstract operation of the Spirit upon the sinner in conversion. Its failure to support the theory is evidenced by the following facts: (1) The Lord was not talking about the conversion of a sinner, but the renewal of Israel as a people. (2) The passage says nothing about the work of the Holy Spirit. (3) There is nothing mentioned in the passage that could not have been accomplished by ordinary means. (4) The very point to be proven is assumed. 2. "But their minds were hardened: for until this very day at the reading of the old covenant the same veil remaineth, it not being revealed to them that it is done away in Christ. But unto this day, whensoever Moses is read, a veil lieth upon their heart. But whensoever _it shall turn to the Lord_, the veil is taken away" (2 Cor. 3:14-16). Just what is found here to prove a direct operation of the Spirit would be difficult to say. The apostle is speaking of the Jews reading the Scriptures with a veil which blinds them. The veil was undoubtedly a false interpretation, which prevented their _seeing Christ_ in their Scriptures. If they had not this wrong interpretation, they would see Christ and their Scriptures would _be plain._ As it was, they were dark and mysterious. The apostle tells what will remove the veil: "_When they shall turn to the Lord_," the veil shall be _taken away_. There is nothing in the whole passage that even hints at an immediate operation of the Spirit. 3. "For we are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God afore prepared that we should walk in them" (Eph. 2:10). There is nothing here to even hint at a direct operation. It says the Ephesians were created in Christ Jesus (not in the Holy Spirit) unto good works. If the reader wishes to learn by what means they were so created, let him turn to chapter 1, verse 13, and he will obtain the information: "In whom ye also, _having heard_ the word of the truth, _the gospel_ of your salvation,--in whom, _having also believed_, ye were sealed with the Holy Spirit of promise." That is something to the point. They "heard the word of truth," the gospel of their salvation. Then, _after they believed_, they "were sealed with the Holy Spirit of promise." There is nothing in the passage to warrant the teaching of a special operation to enable them to believe. 4. "And a certain woman named Lydia, a seller of purple, of the city of Thyatira, one that worshipped God, heard us: whose heart the Lord opened to give heed unto the things which were spoken by Paul" (Acts 16:14). This is relied upon to prove a direct work of the Spirit upon Lydia that she might _hear_ and _believe_. The very thing to be proved is again assumed. True, the Lord opened Lydia's heart, but he didn't do so that she might "receive the word," for Paul had already preached it to her. Her heart was opened that "she gave heed to the things spoken by Paul." Before she heard Paul she had a narrow, bigoted Jewish heart. After she heard the preaching, her heart was opened to attend to the things she had heard. That is, she obeyed the gospel. Nothing about the Holy Spirit in the entire history. 5. "And I will pray the Father, and he shall give you another Comforter, that he may be with you for ever, even the Spirit of truth: whom the world cannot receive; for it beholdeth him not, neither knoweth him: ye know him; for he abideth with you, and shall be in you" (John 14:16, 17). As I have elsewhere shown, this passage has a private and peculiar application to the apostles, and not to the world of mankind. It specifically states that "the world cannot receive" this Comforter. That kills it as a proof-text that the world "must receive it" before it can believe. Those who affirm a direct operation of the Spirit on "the world" make a clear-cut issue with the Saviour. 6. "I planted, Apollos watered; but God gave the increase" (1 Cor. 3:6). Those who use this to prove a special operation of the Spirit make it mean, "I have planted _the word_ and Apollos has watered it, but God by a special work of the Holy Spirit makes the increase of the word." This is a false interpretation, as the apostle was not speaking of "the word" at all. How could Apollos "_water the word_"? The apostle was speaking of the _congregation_ at Corinth, which he had planted and Apollos had tended, and which, under the care of God, had made increase. There is nothing in the passage about the Holy Spirit. 7. "While Peter yet spake these words, the Holy Spirit fell on all them that heard the word" (Acts 10:44). This has reference to God's signifying his acceptance of the Gentiles by an outpouring similar to the one on the day of Pentecost. It was purely a supernatural act, and has never been repeated since that day. But even then it would not prove the necessity of an operation of the Spirit, that men might _hear the gospel_ and believe it. The record says "it fell on all them that _heard the word."_ Cornelius was told by the angel to send for Peter, "who shall tell thee words whereby thou shalt be saved." 8. "Now the natural man receiveth not the things of the Spirit of God: for they are foolishness unto him; and he cannot know them, because they are spiritually judged. But he that is spiritual judgeth all things, and he himself is judged of no man" (1 Cor. 2:14, 15). This is held to be one of the strongest passages to confirm the teaching of the necessity of a direct operation of the Holy Spirit to enable a man to hear and to believe the gospel. A brief examination of the context will show that such an idea was not in the mind of the apostle at all. The apostle is not even speaking of _conversion_ when he uses the language. He is speaking of _inspiration_. The spiritual man in Paul's mind was a man inspired by the Spirit, and the natural man was an uninspired man. If the reader will turn to the ninth verse of the chapter and read to the conclusion of the chapter, and place "uninspired" where he finds "natural," and "inspired" where "spiritual" is found, the passage will be as clear as a sunbeam. "The things of the Spirit" are things produced by the Spirit, which needed an inspired man to explain. The day of Pentecost was a "thing of the Spirit," and there was not an uninspired man in all that great throng that could understand it. The best solution they could give was, "These men are drunk," but Peter, an inspired man, explained in inspired language that "this is that which was spoken by the prophet Joel: It shall come to pass in the last days, saith God, that I will pour out of my Spirit upon all flesh." When these natural (uninspired) men heard Peter's (inspired) spiritual explanation, they could understand it. They did understand it and obeyed it to the number of three thousand. Nebuchadnezzar's vision was a "thing of the Spirit," and there was not a natural (uninspired) man in all his realm that could interpret it. But Daniel, a spiritual (inspired) man, explained it in spiritual language and then all could understand it. There is nothing in the passage to support the theory of a direct operation to enable man to understand the gospel. 9. "Him did God exalt with his right hand to be a Prince and a Saviour, to give repentance to Israel, and remission of sins" (Acts 5:31). This passage is used because it speaks of Christ giving repentance. They infer that is done by a direct operation of the Spirit. But the passage says nothing as to _how_ he grants repentance. Christ gives many things that are not the result of a direct operation of the Spirit. The very next verse says God gives "the Holy Spirit to all them _that obey_ him." This directly contradicts the theory of the necessity of a direct operation of the Spirit to enable men to obey him. 10. "No man can come to me, except the Father that sent me draw him: and I will raise him up in the last day" (John 6:44). This is greatly relied upon to show the necessity of an irresistible drawing before men can come to Christ. The word "draw," in the Scriptures, is a translation of two words in the original. One means to draw by force, "to drag;" the other means to "entice, allure or persuade"--that men are drawn by moral arguments, or "allured." In the next verse Christ tells how men are drawn. "Every one that hath heard from the Father, and hath learned, cometh unto me." Christ draws men by "_teaching_," and they come as result of "_learning_." That is why he told his disciples to "go teach all nations." That is Christ's method of drawing. Now, I have selected ten of the strongest passages in the New Testament that support the theory of a direct operation of the Spirit before men are qualified to hear and obey the gospel. If it is not taught in the above passages, it is not taught in the Bible. When rightly considered, not one of them even leans toward the theory. Are we not justified in saying that the theory is not supported by the Scriptures! Now, how are persons made believers? Hear the word of God: 1. "For I am not ashamed of the gospel: for it is the power of God unto salvation to every one that believeth; to the Jew first, and also to the Greek" (Rom. 1:16). Now, here is the unequivocal statement that God's power to save is lodged in the gospel. In all ages of Christianity there is not a record of a single soul ever being saved without the presence of this power. But this is not a magical power. It must be _heard_ in order that it produce faith. But how shall they _hear_ without a preacher and how shall he _preach_ except he be _sent_? The order is, then, (1) send, (2) preach, (3) hear, (4) believe, (5) obey, (6) saved. Now, this is the order of the Saviour's commission to his followers. "Go preach the gospel to every creature; he that believeth and is baptized shall be saved." That is our marching order to-day. 2. "Now these were more noble than those in Thessalonica, in that they received the word with all readiness of mind, _examining the scriptures_ daily, whether these things were so. _Many of them therefore believed_; also of the Greek women of honorable estate, and of men, not a few" (Acts 17:11, 12). Here were believers made by searching the Scriptures and by receiving the Word with all "readiness of mind." The same method will make believers of unbelievers to-day. 3. "For though ye have ten thousand tutors in Christ, yet have ye not many fathers; for in Christ Jesus I begat you through the gospel" (1 Cor. 4:15). No clearer statement could be made as to the power exercised in begetting men to a new life. They are begotten through the gospel. 4. "Of his own will he brought us forth by the word of truth, that we should be a kind of first-fruits of his creatures" (Jas. 1:18). This is as clear as the one above it. We are brought forth by the Word of truth. 5. "For this people's heart is waxed gross, And their ears are dull of hearing, And their eyes they have closed; Lest haply they should perceive with their eyes, And hear with their ears, And understand with their heart, And should turn again, And I should heal them" (Matt. 13:15). To be healed, one must be converted; to be converted, one must understand with the heart; to understand with the heart, one must perceive and hear. But the people the Lord mentions were not healed. Why? Because they were not converted. Why were they not converted? Because they had not perceived with their eyes and heard with their ears. Why had they not seen and heard! "Their ears are dull of hearing, And their eyes they have closed; Lest at any time they should see with their eyes, And hear with their ears." Men talk of the Bible being a sealed book. They would better talk of sealed _eyes, ears_ and _hearts_, as does the Saviour. IX THE SPIRIT AND CHRISTIANS It has been aptly and truthfully said that "no importance can be attached to a religion that is not begun, carried on and completed by the Spirit of God." That the Christian is led, guided and strengthened by the Spirit can not be denied by any Bible reader. To deny the fact that the Spirit dwells in us is to deny the Bible. But it is asserted with equal clearness in the Divine Word that _God dwells in us_. "And what agreement hath a temple of God with idols? for we are a temple of the living God; even as God said, I will _dwell in them_, and walk in them; and I will be their God, and they shall be my people" (2 Cor. 6:16). This not only says that God will dwell in us, but that he _walks in us_. It is also clearly taught that _Christ dwells in us_. "That Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith; to the end that ye, being rooted and grounded in love" (Eph. 3:17). Now, if God, Christ and the Spirit dwell in us, is there any teaching that the Spirit dwells in us in a different sense from that in which the Father and the Son dwell in us? How, then, does the Father dwell in us? By referring to Lev. 26:12, from which Paul quoted, we find that God promised to be in communion with Israel, but there is nothing in the passage to show his personal indwelling in any one person. How does Christ dwell in us? The passage above quoted says, "Christ shall dwell in your hearts by faith;" more correctly rendered, "the faith" or _the gospel_. How does the Spirit dwell in us? In Gal. 3:2, Paul asks the Galatians: "Received ye the Spirit by the works of the law, or by the _hearing of the faith_?"--or the gospel. The above Scriptures clearly teach that when the words, thoughts and Spirit of God are controlling in our lives, _God dwells in us_; that when the gospel controls us, _Christ dwells in us_; that when we receive the gospel by the hearing of faith, _the Spirit dwells in us_. Now, what reason has any man for declaring that the Spirit dwells in us in any other way, unless he can point to an explicit declaration of God's word defining and explaining that other way? This can not be done, for there is no such passage. "But," says one, "I do not have to depend upon the Word. I know it by my own consciousness." It is a principle as old as metaphysics that consciousness does not take cognizance of causes, but of effects. You may be conscious of an effect within you, but you can not be conscious of the cause that produced the effect. Suppose you are lying asleep on the ground; you are suddenly awakened by a severe pain in your lower limb; consciousness tells you that you are suffering pain, but it does not tell you what produced that pain. This must be decided by _reason_ or _faith_. If you find a thorn in the grass where your limb was resting, _reason_ says the thorn _stuck you_; if you find a bumblebee mashed in the grass, _reason_ will say the insect _stung you_; or, if some one near you says a boy with a pin in his hand ran away from you, _faith_ will say the boy _stuck you_. But in either case it was reason or faith that decided the cause of your pain. Now, when a man says, "I am conscious of the presence of the Holy Spirit within me," he simply means, "I am conscious of a _feeling_ within me which I _have been taught_ was caused by the Holy Spirit." If the man has been taught wrong, he assigns a _wrong cause_ for the feeling. What is the feeling usually assigned for the presence of the Holy Spirit's personal indwelling? It is a feeling of joy, peace and love. But can not such feeling be excited by other causes? We know there are dozens of causes that will produce such feelings. In the absence of clear testimony, what right has any one to attribute such feeling to the personal presence of the Holy Spirit? A man is found murdered. The testimony shows that any one of a dozen men could have killed him. Is there an intelligent jury in the land that would convict any one of the men of being the murderer? What would you think of a jury that would render such a verdict? "Well," says one, "what of the great numbers who pray for a 'Pentecostal revival'? Are they all wrong?" Not wrong in what they _want_, but wrong in _what they call it_. All that those people desire, is to be filled with a _genuine revival of religious enthusiasm_. Their mistake is in calling it a "Pentecostal shower." A Pentecostal shower would lead every preacher under its influence to say, with the apostle Peter, to inquiring sinners: "_Repent, and be baptised every one of you in the name of Jesus Christ for the remission of sins_." This is what they are careful _not to say_. It is a clear evidence that the Spirit which guided Peter is not guiding them. I assert it to be a fact that everything that is claimed to be effected by a personal indwelling of the Spirit is as clearly accomplished by the Spirit acting through the word of God. I do not wish to rest content with asserting that statement, but I wish to prove it. What are the things that might be accomplished by a direct personal indwelling of the Spirit in us? 1. He might give us faith. But through the Word he does that. "So belief cometh of hearing, and hearing by the _word of Christ_" (Rom. 10:17). 2. He might enable us to enjoy a new birth. But through the Word he does that. "Having been begotten again, not of corruptible seed, but of incorruptible, through the _word of God_, which liveth and abideth" (1 Pet. 1:23). 3. He might give us light. But through the Word he does that. "The entrance of thy word giveth light" (Ps. 119:130). 4. He might give us wisdom. But through the Word he does that. "But abide thou in the things which thou hast learned and hast been assured of, knowing of whom thou hast learned them; and that from a babe thou hast known the _sacred writings_ which are able to _make thee wise_ unto salvation through faith which is in Christ Jesus" (2 Tim. 3:14, 15). "The testimony of Jehovah is sure, making wise the simple" (Ps. 19:7). 5. He might convert us. But he does that through the Word. "The _law of Jehovah_ is perfect, converting the soul" (Ps. 19:7). 6. He might open our eyes. But he does that through the Word. "The precepts of Jehovah are right, rejoicing the heart; _The commandment_ of Jehovah is pure, enlightening the eyes" (Ps. 19:8). 7. He might give us understanding. But he does that through the Word. "Through _thy precepts_ I get understanding: Therefore I hate every false way" (Ps. 119:104). 8. He might quicken us. But he does that through the Word. "This is my comfort in my affliction; For _thy word_ hath quickened me" (Ps. 119: 50). 9. He might save us. But he does that through the Word. "Wherefore putting away all filthiness and overflowing of wickedness, receive with meekness the _implanted word_ which is able to save your souls" (Jas. 1:21). 10. He might sanctify us. But he does this through the Word. "Sanctify them in the truth: _thy word_ is truth" (John 17:17). 11. He might purify us. But he does that through the Word. "Seeing ye have purified your souls in your obedience to _the truth_ unto unfeigned love of the brethren, love one another from the heart fervently" (1 Pet. 1:22). 12. He might cleanse us. But he does that through the Word. "Already ye are clean because of _the word_ which I have spoken unto you" (John 15:3). 13. He might make us free from sin. But he does that through the Word. "But thanks be to God, that whereas ye were servants of sin, ye became obedient from the heart to that _form of teaching_ whereunto ye were delivered; and being made free from sin, ye became servants of righteousness" (Rom. 6:17, 18). 14. He might impart a divine nature. But he does that through the Word. "Whereby he hath granted unto us his precious and exceeding _great promises;_ that through these ye may become _partakers of the divine nature_, having escaped from the corruption that is in the world by lust" (2 Pet. 1:4). 15. He might fit us for glory. But he does that through the Word. "And now I commend you to God, and to _the word_ of his grace, _which is able to build you up_, and to give you the inheritance among all them that are sanctified" (Acts 20:32). 16. He might strengthen us. But he does that by his Word. "Strengthen me according to thy word" (Ps. 119:28). In the above cases we have covered all the conceivable things a direct indwelling Spirit could do for one, and have also shown that all these things the Spirit does through the word of God. It is not claimed that a direct indwelling of the Spirit makes any new revelations, adds any new reasons or offers any new motives than are found in the word of God. Of what use, then, would a direct indwelling Spirit be? God makes nothing in vain. We are necessarily, therefore, led to the conclusion that, in dealing with his children to-day, God deals with them in the same psychological way that he deals with men in inducing them to become children. This conclusion is strengthened by the utter absence of any test by which we could know the Spirit dwells in us, if such were the case. WHAT THE SPIRIT DOES FOR CHRISTIANS. 1. _He is active in our birth_. "Jesus answered, Verily, verily, I say unto thee, Except one be born of water and the Spirit, he cannot enter into the kingdom of God" (John 3:5). Here is a distinct statement of a radical change, so radical as to be likened to a new birth in order that we may enter the kingdom of God. What is it that is born? Christ says, "A man." But what is a man? We regard a man as having a mind, a heart and a body. There is no perfect man where any of these elements is lacking. If, therefore, a man is born again, he must be born in mind, in heart, in body. How is this birth accomplished? Let us see what the Word says. "But as many as received him, to them gave he the right to become children of God, even to them that believe on his name: who were born, not of blood, nor of the will of the flesh, nor of the will of man, _but of God"_ (John 1:12, 13). God gives all things--sometimes directly, sometimes through an agent. The Holy Spirit is the agent. "Born of water and the Spirit." But an agent often works through an instrument. What is the instrument? The word of God. "Seeing ye have purified your souls in your obedience to the truth unto unfeigned love of the brethren, love one another from the heart fervently; having been begotten again, not of corruptible seed, but of incorruptible, _through the word of God_, which liveth and abideth" (1 Pet. 1:22, 23). How can the word of God accomplish the new birth? By the only way that words can accomplish any change--by being heard, understood, and influencing the life. The Holy Spirit puts himself into the words that contain his motives, actions and promises. How can this be done! Just as man does it. Years ago the prophet Mohammed put his spirit into the words, "There is one God, and Mohammed is his prophet." When a man reads these words and believes and acts upon them, the spirit of Mohammed enters into that man and dwells there as long as the man continues true to those words. The only way to take the spirit of Mohammed out of those words is to transpose them so they will not say what he said. George Washington put his spirit into the sentence, "United we stand, divided we fall." As long as the American people are true to the above words, the spirit of George Washington will live in them. But make the same words read, "Divided we stand, united we fall," and the spirit of Washington is removed from them. The only way to take the Spirit of God from the word of God is to add to, take from or transpose the Word so it will not say what the Spirit _said in it_. "Well," says one, "if we are born of the Spirit operating through the Word, must we not understand all the Word in order that we may be born again?" No, the apostle limits the part of the Word we must understand in verse 25 of this same chapter: "This is the word which by _the gospel_ is preached unto you." Let us now endeavor to learn how the gospel produces this change. How is the mind born again! In order to learn this we must understand what is the normal condition of the mind of the unregenerate. In general we may say it is in a state of _unbelief_. Now, the proclamation of the great facts of the death, burial and resurrection of Christ according to the Scriptures will break up that condition of unbelief and produce a conviction of the truth of the gospel. When the mind is changed from a state of unbelief to one of hearty belief the birth of the mind is complete. But the mind is only a part of man. The heart must be born again. What is the normal state of the unregenerate heart? It is one of either _indifference_ or _hatred_. The latter is the former fully ripened. It is said that Voltaire carried a seal ring upon which were engraved the words, "Crush the wretch," and every time he sealed a letter he impressed his spirit of hatred upon that letter. Now, the gospel sets forth the love of God in Christ and the loveliness of Christ's sacrifice for us in such a manner as to change the indifferent or malignant heart into one of supreme love to Christ. When the heart has thus been changed from hatred to love it is born again. But man has also a body, and upon this spirit can not act. If the body is to be born again, some element must be used that can act upon the body. Hence our Saviour says, "born of water and the Spirit," because water can act upon the body. Now, the only use of water in the new birth is in the act of baptism. All scholars of note in the religious world agree that Christ's use of water in the new birth has reference to baptism. Paul also speaks of "having our hearts sprinkled from an evil conscience and our bodies washed in pure water." Thus, with mind and heart changed by the Spirit through the gospel, and the body solemnly consecrated to God in baptism, the entire man is born again. This is all accomplished by the Spirit of God working _in and through the gospel_. 2. Another work of the Spirit is to "_bear witness with our spirits that we are children of God, and if children, then heirs_" (Rom. 8:16). It does not say, "bear witness _to_ our spirits," but "_with_ our spirits." Many people gauge the witness of the Spirit by feelings within themselves. If they feel good, it is evidence to them of the Spirit's testimony, but they frequently feel bad also; whose testimony is that? The testimony of the Spirit should be clear testimony, and not fluctuating; it should be in words, and not in feelings. Feelings, impressions and emotions come and go like the waves of the sea, but words remain forever the same. "Heaven and earth shall pass away, but my word shall not pass away," saith the Lord. The idea of the conscious testimony of the Spirit is not sustained by either the word of God nor a correct psychology. It is the testimony of metaphysicians, from Sir William Hamilton down to the writer, that consciousness does not take cognizance of causes, but effects. Feelings are effects and not causes. Consciousness tells us when we feel good or bad, but it does not tell us what makes us feel good or bad. When a man has been taught that a certain feeling in the heart is produced by a certain agency, his faith and reason may decide that that agency produced the feeling, but consciousness has nothing whatever to do with _the cause_ of the feeling. Likewise, a certain feeling in the heart may be attributed to the Spirit because one has been taught that the Spirit will produce such a feeling, but consciousness can not trace that feeling to the Spirit himself. A man should feel right because he knows he is right, and not know he is right because he feels right. In deciding whether we be children of God, we have two witnesses: first, the Spirit himself, and, second, our spirit. The Spirit testifies as to who is a child of God; our spirits testify as to what we are. If our spirits testify that we are the character which the Spirit says belongs to a child of God, then we have the testimony of the Spirit himself bearing witness with our spirits that we are children of God. The testimony of the Spirit, in the nature of the case, must be general. He testifies that whosoever believes in Christ, repents of his sins, and is baptized into him, is a child of God. This is the whole of his testimony. Your spirit, likewise, must bear witness to your position on all of these points. No one but your own spirit can testify that you believe in Christ; you may profess to, and the whole world may believe that you do, but your own spirit knows that you are a hypocrite in making the profession. Likewise, no one can testify but your own spirit that you have repented; you may make professions of repentance, and the world may believe you thoroughly sincere, but your own spirit may tell you that your profession is false. In a similar manner, no one but your own spirit can testify that you have been baptized; your father and mother may say so, the church record may so testify, and yet it is possible for them to be mistaken. To be certain you are a child of God you must have the testimony of your own spirit that you believe, that you have repented and that you have been baptized. If, in the judgment day, God should ask such people, "Have you obeyed me in the act of Christian baptism?" they would not have the testimony of their spirit that they had so obeyed; they would have to fall back upon the church record or that of their father and mother. Others may be satisfied with such testimony, but, as for myself, if I did not have the testimony of my own spirit that I had obeyed the Lord in Christian baptism, I would obtain that testimony before the going down of the sun. "Well," says one, "is that all the witness of the Spirit mentioned by the apostle?" Yes, that is all; absolutely and unqualifiedly all. What more can you desire? "Well," says another, "I want something more than the mere word; I want to be saved like the thief on the cross." How do you know that the thief on the cross was saved? "Oh, the Bible says he was." True, but that is the testimony of the "mere word"; so you have as much testimony to your own salvation as you have for the salvation of the thief on the cross, and it would be impossible for you to have any more. Suppose the Lord were to come down and take you up bodily and set you down before his throne in heaven, and, in the presence of all the angels and archangels, say to you: "My child, your sins are all forgiven." "Now," says one, "that would be testimony indeed." Yes, it would be testimony, but no more testimony than you have in the word of God now; you would then have only the testimony of the "mere word" of God that you were forgiven. All such criticisms arise out of infidelity as to the truthfulness of God's word. 3. _The Spirit maketh intercession for us_. This is not a work done in us nor upon us, but is something done for us before the throne of God. We can not dogmatize as to _how_ the Spirit maketh intercession, but Paul says he does it "_according to the will of God_." This is a fact that appeals to _our faith_ and not to our Christian _experience_. It "can not be uttered." We can rest upon it and draw comfort from it as a child draws strength from its mother's breast. We can also draw comfort from the fact that Christ "ever liveth to make intercession for us," though we have no knowledge as to _how_ he does it. 4. Another work of the Spirit is to "_change us from glory to glory_." "But we all, with unveiled face, reflecting as a mirror the glory of the Lord, are transformed into the same image from glory to glory, even as from the Lord the Spirit" (2 Cor. 3:18). The figure used here by the apostle is taken from the process of mirror-making among the ancients. They hadn't the glass mirrors of our day, but a mirror of highly polished metal. A piece of coarse metal would be placed upon a stone and the workmen would begin to polish it; at first it made no reflection at all, but when polished for awhile would give a distorted and perverted reflection; but in the process of polishing, that reflection would grow clearer and clearer, when finally a man could behold his face in it perfectly reflected. And so with us. When taken into the great spiritual laboratory of Christianity we are blocks in the rough, but in the polishing process of the church and spiritual surroundings we begin to reflect the image of our Master, and when we have completed the work, we reflect him as perfectly as a human being can. Take, for illustration, the brothers Peter and John. At first they were called Boanerges, sons of thunder; they wanted to call down fire from heaven to destroy men who differed from them; but in the great laboratory of the Christian life they grew more and more Christlike, transformed by the Spirit of God, until at last we see the old apostle John at Ephesus, beautified and ennobled, sitting in his chair and lifting up trembling hands, and saying to the young disciples: "Little children, love one another, for love is of God." We see the transforming power of the spiritual atmosphere of the church and the Christian life upon human nature. Christian, with this illustration before you, how can you excuse yourself for keeping out of the spiritual atmosphere of God, for staying away from the communion and the spiritual convocation of God's people? Is it a burden and a duty to attend the house of God, or is it a pleasure gladly and joyfully anticipated? When you rise on the Lord's Day morning, do you say, "Must I go to church to-day?" or do you say: "You may sing of the beauty of mountain and dale, The water of streamlet and the flowers of the Vale, But the place most delightful this earth can afford, Is the place of devotion, the house of the Lord"? 5. The last work of the Spirit which the word of God mentions is the "_quickening of our mortal bodies_." "But if the Spirit of him that raised up Jesus from the dead dwell in you, he that raised up Christ Jesus from the dead shall quicken your mortal bodies through his Spirit that dwelleth in you" (Rom. 8:11). This Spirit which has ever been with us, watching over us, will never leave us until he raises our bodies from the dead and fashions our vile bodies like unto the glorious body of our Lord. It matters much where we now live; it matters little where and how we die. Our bodies may be buried in the unfathomed caves of ocean; they may lie upon some mountain-peak or be placed in a crowded cemetery of some great city. No stone may mark our resting-place, no friend may be able to find the spot and place a flower of love upon it; but that abiding-place is known to the infinite Spirit of God, and from our ashes he will quicken our bodies and present us faultless before the throne of God. "I know not where His isles may lift Their fronded palms in air: I only know I can not drift Beyond His love and care." We have not space in this chapter to notice other than the principal passages which refer to the work of the Spirit as it relates to Christians, but in the five above mentioned there is no hint that he does anything in us other than through the instrumentality of the gospel, and there are no other passages that teach a direct work upon us more clearly than those mentioned. There are many passages that trace the blessed and glorious work of the Spirit in us and through us, but they all confirm the clear statement quoted from the _Sunday School Times_ that he works _mediately_, and not _immediately_. X THE PARTING WORD _Blasphemy against the Spirit_. This is a subject that is intensely interesting to many people. They imagine that in some way unknown to themselves they _may_ have committed this act, and it causes them great concern. I will say that such people need have no alarm. The man who has actually committed this sin _never_ feels any alarm about it. He is the last man to feel concern over it. By reading the twelfth chapter of Matthew the reader can obtain a clear view of this sin. Jesus was being hounded by the Pharisees, who had determined to procure his death at all hazards. They were watching, exaggerating and criticizing everything he did. He went on a Sabbath day through the field of corn and his disciples plucked and ate some of the corn. There was an immediate outcry of "The Sabbath is violated." Again, Jesus healed the man with a withered hand and the Pharisees went out and held a council to plan his destruction. Again, there was brought to him a man possessed of a devil, rendering him blind and dumb. Jesus healed him by casting out the devil, so that he "both saw and heard." Casting out devils had always been regarded by the Jews as a direct work of the Spirit of God. The people are amazed, and proclaimed him the Son of David, or the Messiah. The Pharisees could not deny the fact, but they said: "He does it by Beelzebub, the prince of devils." These three incidents show a disposition on their part to deliberately reject all testimony contrary to their plan to compass his death. They had rendered their verdict in advance and were not open to conviction, no matter _what_ testimony might be offered. Jesus tells them that if he casts out devils by Beelzebub, then Satan is divided against himself. "But if I by the Spirit of God cast out devils, then is the kingdom of God come upon me" (Matt. 12:28). "_Therefore_ I say unto you, Every sin and blasphemy shall be forgiven unto men: but the blasphemy against the Spirit shall not be forgiven. And whosoever shall speak a word against the Son of man, it shall be forgiven him: but whosoever shall speak against the Holy Spirit, it shall not be forgiven him, neither in this world, nor in that which is to come" (Matt. 12:31, 32). That these men had committed, or were in great danger of committing, this blasphemy is evident from the caution uttered above. When a man to-day reaches the comprehensive state of mind that he is going to reject Jesus _over any and all evidence,_ he has gone into the house, shut and locked the door and thrown away the key. God can not reach him. Such a man will be let alone by the Spirit of God. That Paul understood this condition to be unpardonable, we read in Heb. 6:4-6: "But as touching those who were once enlightened, and tasted of the heavenly gift, and were made partakers of the Holy Spirit, and tasted the good word of God, and the powers of the age to come, and then fall away, it is impossible to renew them again unto repentance; seeing they _crucify to themselves the Son of God afresh_, and put him to an open shame." Paul says it is impossible to renew such a one to repentance. Why? "_Seeing they crucify to themselves the Son of God afresh_." That is, they have reached the same state of mind the Pharisees had who _crucified him the first time_. Men can commit that same act to-day, but when they do it they lose all concern regarding the consequences. As long as one has concern, he may rest assured that he has not blasphemed the Holy Spirit. _The Fruits of the Spirit_. I have not treated this passage hitherto, because I do not understand the apostle to be referring to the Holy Spirit, but to man's spirit. In this fifth chapter of Galatians the apostle divides man into two domains, one of the flesh and another of the spirit. He says: "The flesh lusteth against the Spirit, and the Spirit against the flesh: for these are contrary the one to the other: that ye _may not do the things that ye would_" (Gal. 5:17). It is impossible to imagine "the flesh" preventing the Holy Spirit from doing "the things he would." It is also impossible to conceive that the Holy Spirit is lusting against man's flesh. But we all recognize that there is a terrible conflict between man's flesh and _his spirit_. These are contrary the one to the other and lust against each other. When man's flesh triumphs over his spirit, certain works are inevitable which Paul enumerates. When the Spirit (in man) dominates the flesh, then certain "fruits of the Spirit" appear. They are the fruits of man's spiritual nature triumphing over his fleshly nature. The same contrast is set forth in Galatians, chapter 6, where it speaks of sowing to the flesh and to the Spirit. How can any man sow to the Holy Spirit? Paul describes the same conflict in the seventh chapter of Romans. I think that the spirit (of man) can be aided by the Holy Spirit in its battle against the flesh, but the "fruits" mentioned are of man's spirit and not the Holy Spirit. _The Spirit of God at Work To-Day_. Says one, "Is not the Spirit actively at work in the world to-day?" Of course he is. It is not a question of _what_ he is doing but _how_ he is doing it. The religious world is pretty generally agreed that the Spirit is pleading with the world of the unsaved through the motives and inducements of the gospel, the moral truth which appeals to the intellect and heart of the unconverted to turn to God and be saved; that all the saving power of God is found in Christ and the gospel which reveals him; that God will not go beyond the cross of Christ to save any man. It is Christ "who was made unto us wisdom from God, and righteousness and sanctification, and redemption: that, according as it is written, He that glorieth, let him glory in the Lord." All that is necessary for wisdom, righteousness, sanctification and redemption--and that is all we need--is found in Christ. This being so, we need no other power but gospel power in our attempts to become children of God or to live as children of God. We get into confusion when we try to obtain some other and more direct power. We are led into a dependence upon our feelings, which are unreliable. Bishop J.H. Vincent, than whom stands no higher in the Northern M.E. Church, aptly states the whole matter thus: "There are people who put stress on sentiment and emotion in religion. If they 'feel good,' they have no doubt as to their present security and their acceptance with God. These people covet moods and states of feeling. They revel in songs and prayers and hallelujahs. The thrill of sentiment and the warm currents of emotion are 'the all and in all' of religion. Such saints forget that mere mental exhilaration and good feeling may coexist with carnal hearts, selfish aims, and utter worldliness of temper." His brethren will scarcely accuse the Bishop of not believing in "heartfelt religion," and yet they used to strongly accuse us of denying it, because we plead for the testimony of the Book rather than the testimony of feelings. We get into the same confusion when we attempt to fall back upon some inward power, independent of God's word, in living the Christian life. The writer has known many good, honest people that claimed to have an inward monitor to lead them, who at the same time would reject the clear teaching of God's word. The Spirit of God never led any man to contradict _the Word_ which he has so clearly revealed. The whole Christian life is a life of faith. _It begins, continues and ends in faith._ "God is no respecter of persons, but in every nation he that _fears God and works righteousness_ is accepted of him." "The sword of the Spirit" is "the word of God." 
15412	----	THE VIRGIN-BIRTH OF OUR LORD A PAPER READ (IN SUBSTANCE) BEFORE THE CONFRATERNITY OF THE HOLY TRINITY AT CAMBRIDGE BY B. W. RANDOLPH, D.D. PRINCIPAL OF ELY THEOLOGICAL, COLLEGE HON, CANON OF ELY EXAMINING CHAPLAIN TO THE BISHOP OF LINCOLN Tu ad liberandum suscepturus hominem: non horruisti Virginis uterum. LONGMANS, GREEN, AND Co., 39 PATERNOSTER ROW, LONDON NEW YORK AND BOMBAY 1903 WITH RESPECT AND AFFECTION TO VINCENT HENRY STANTON, D.D. ELY PROFESSOR OF DIVINITY IN THE UNIVERSITY OF CAMBRIDGE Dedisti Jesum Christum, Filium tuum unicum, ut . . . pro nobis nasceretur qui, operante Spiritu Sancto, verus Homo factus est ex substantia Virginis Marie matris sue. Pref. in Die Nat. Dom. PREFACE This paper was read before the S. T. C. (Sanctae Trinitatis Confraternitas) on March 10th of this years at one of the ordinary meetings of the Brotherhood. It is published now in the hope that it may thus reach a wider circle. To suppose that any one can hold the Catholic doctrine of the Incarnation without believing the miraculous Conception and Birth, is, in the writer's opinion, a delusion. There is no trace in Church History, so far as he is aware, of any believers in the Incarnation who were not also believers in the Virgin-Birth. The modern endeavour to divorce the one from the other appears to be part of the attempt now being made to get rid of the miraculous altogether from Christianity. Professor Harnack appears to urge us to accept the "Easter message" while we need not, he thinks, believe the "Easter faith."* He means apparently by this that we can deny the literal fact of our Lord's Resurrection, while we may believe in a future life. What St. Paul would really have said to a Christianity such as this seems to be plain from his words to the Corinthian converts who were denying the Resurrection in his day: "If Christ be not risen, then is our preaching vain, and your faith is also vain." (I Cor. xv. 14.) -- * Harnack, What is Christianity? p. 160. -- Deny the Resurrection of our Lord, and you take away the key-stone from the Apostolic preaching, and the whole edifice falls to the ground. Any unprejudiced reader of the sermons and speeches of St. Peter and St. Paul in the Acts will surely recognize how true this is. Similarly in regard to the human Birth of our Lord. Once admit that He was born as other men, and the Incarnation fades away. A child born naturally of human parents can never be God Incarnate. There can be no new start given to humanity by such a birth. The entail of original sin would not be cut off nor could the Christ so born be described as the "Second Adam--the Lord from heaven." Christians could not look to such a one as their Redeemer or Saviour, still less as the Author to them of a new spiritual life. Another man would have appeared among men, giving mankind the example of a beautiful human life, but unable in any other way to benefit the race of men. Further, a Christ such as this would not be a perfect character, for if the Gospels are to be believed, He said things about Himself and made claims which no thoroughly good man could have a right to make unless he were immeasurably more than man. While these pages were passing through the press, the eye of the present writer was caught by the following words in a letter of Bishop Westcott, which seem to have a special significance at this time:--"I tried vainly to read----'s book .... He seems to me to deny the Virgin-Birth. In other words, he makes the Lord a man, one man in the race, and not the new Man--the Son of Man, in whom the race is gathered up. To put the thought in another and a technical form, he makes the Lord's personality human, which is, I think, a fatal error."* -- * Life of Bishop Westcott, vol. ii. p. 308. -- It is sometimes said, in opposition to the mystery of the Virgin-Birth, that there is a tendency in the human mind, not without its illustrations in history, to "decorate with legend" the early history of great men. In reply, it may be enough here to say that legends analogous to the pagan legends of the births of heroes, false and absurd legends, did gather round the infancy of Jesus Christ. The Apocryphal Gospels are full of such legends. They tell us how the idols of Egypt fell down before Him; how His swaddling-clothes worked miracles; and how He made clay birds and turned boys into kids, and worked other absurd miracles of various kinds. But there is a world of difference between these "silly tales" and the restraint, purity, dignity, and reserve which characterize the narratives of the first and third Evangelists. "The distinction between history and legend," says Dr. Fairbairn, "could not be better marked than by the reserve of the Canonical and the vulgar tattle of the Apocryphal Gospels."* -- * Quoted in Gore, Dissertations, p. 60. -- I wish to take this opportunity of thanking my colleague, the Rev. G. W. Douglas, and my friend the Rev. Canon Warner, Rector of Stoke-by-Grantham, for their kind help in revising the proof-sheets of this paper. B.W.R. THEOLOGICAL COLLEGE, ELY, Feast of St. Mark, 1903. [Note on transliteration of Greek quotations: o = omicron (short o); e = epsilon (short e); ô = omega (long o); ê = eta (long e)] THE VIRGIN-BIRTH OF OUR LORD There are two miracles confessed in every form of the Creed--the miracle of the Conception and Birth, by which the Incarnation was effected; and the miracle of the Resurrection. These are the fundamental miracles, and are the battle-ground upon which the defenders and assailants of Christianity more especially meet. The discussion of this most sacred subject of the Virgin-Birth of our Lord has been forced upon us at the present time. It is impossible to ignore it or set it aside. We must be prepared, each of us, however much we may shrink from treading on such sacred ground, to give a reason for the hope that is in us with reverence and fear. I will ask you here and now to consider the matter briefly under four heads. First, I will try to give the evidence for the belief in this article of the Creed during the second century; next, I will ask you to consider the evidence of St. Matthew and St. Luke; thirdly, we will consider the argument e silentio on the other side; and lastly, I will ask you to reflect on the theological aspect of the question. THE CHRISTIAN TRADITION I will therefore, without any further preface, plunge into the middle of the subject, and ask you, first of all, to consider afresh that 'throughout the Church the statement of the belief in the Virgin-Birth had its place from so early a date, and is traceable along so many different lines of evidence, as to force upon us the conclusion that, before the death of the last Apostle, the Virgin-Birth must have been among the rudiments of the Faith in which every Christian was initiated;' that if we believe the Divine guidance in the Church at all, we must needs believe that this mystery was part of "the Faith once for all delivered to the Saints." Bear with me, then, while I go over the evidence of the leading witnesses. 1. St. Ignatius. He must have become Bishop of Antioch quite early in the second century. As he passes through Asia about the year 110, he is on his way to martyrdom, and in his Epistles he speaks emphatically of the Virgin-Birth. In the Epistle to the Ephesians, he says: "Hidden from the prince of this world were the Virginity of Mary and her child-bearing, and likewise also the death of our Lord--three mysteries of open proclamation, the which were wrought in the silence of God."* -- * Eph., 19. "Kai elathen ton archonta tou aionos toutou he parthenia Marias kai ho toketos autês, homiôs kai ho thanatos tou Kuriou; tria mustêria kraugês, hatina en hêsuchia theou eprachthê." -- In the Epistle to the Symrnaeans, he says: "I give glory to Jesus Christ, the God who bestowed such wisdom upon you; for I have perceived that ye are established in faith immovable... firmly persuaded as touching our Lord, that He is truly of the race of David according to the flesh, but Son of God by the Divine will and power, truly born of a Virgin, and baptized by John... truly nailed up for our sakes in the flesh, under Pontius Pilate and Herod the tetrarch."+ -- + Smyrn., I. "Doxazô Iêsoun Christon ton theon ton houtôs humas sophisanta; enoêsa gar humas katêrtismenous en akinêtô pistei ..., peplêrophorêmenous eis ton kurion hêmôn alêthôs onta ek genous David kata sarka, huion theou kata thelêma kai dunamin theou, gegenêmenon alêthôs ek parthenou, bebaptismenon hupo Ioannou ... alêthôs epi Pontiou Pilatou kai Herôdou tetrarchou kathêlomenon huper hêmôn en sarki." -- In his Epistle to the Trallians, he writes: "Be ye deaf, therefore, when any man Speaketh to you apart from Jesus Christ, who was of the race of David, who was the Son of Mary, who was truly born."* -- * Trall., 9. "kôphôthête oun, hotan humin chôris Jesou Christou lalê tis, tou ek genous Daveid, tou ek Marias, hos alêthôs egennêthê." -- 2. Aristides of Athens. In his Apology, written about the year 130, mentioning the Virgin-Birth as an Integral portion of the Catholic Faith, he writes: "The Christians trace their descent from the Lord Jesus Christ; now He is confessed by the Holy Ghost to be the Son of the Most High God, having come down from heaven for the salvation of men, and having been born of a holy Virgin+ . . . He took flesh, and appeared to men."# -- + Another reading here is "a Hebrew Virgin," and the Armenian recension has the name "Mary." See Hahn, Bibliothek der Symbole, p. 4; and Harnack's Appendix to the same work, p. 376. # Apol., ch. xv. The quotation is from the Greek text preserved in the History of Barlaam and Josaphat. See The Remains of the Original Greek of the Apology of Aristides, by J. Armitage Robinson. Texts and Studies (Cambridge, 1891), vol. i. pp. 78, 79, 110. "hoi de Christianoi genealogountai apo tou Kuriou Jesou Christou, houtos de ho huios tou theou tou hupsistou homologeitai en Pneumati Hagio ap' ouranou katabas dia ten sôtêrian ton anthrôpôn; kai ek parthenou hagias gennêtheis ... sapka anelabe, kai anephanê anthpôpois." -- 3. Justin Martyr. In his Apologies and in his Dialogue with Trypho he has three summaries of the Christian Faith, in all of which the Virgin-Birth, the Crucifixion, the Death, the Resurrection, and the Ascension are the chief points of belief about Christ. In his First Apology (written between 140 and 150) he says: "We find it foretold in the Books of the Prophets that Jesus our Christ should come born of a Virgin . . . be crucified and should die and rise again, and go up to Heaven, and should both be and be called the 'Son of God.'" * And a little later in the same work he says: "He was born as man of a Virgin, and was called Jesus, and was crucified, and died, and rose again, and has gone up into heaven."+ -- * Apol., i. 31. "En dê tais tôn prophêtôn biblois heuromen prokêrussomenon paraginomenon gennômenon dia parthenou . . . stauroumenon Iesoun ton hemeteron Christon, kai apothnêskonta, kai anegeiromenon, kai eis ouranous anerchomenon, ai huion theou onta kai keklêmenon." + Apol., i. 46. "Dia parthenou anthrôpos apekuêthê, kai Iesous epônomasthê, kai staurôtheis kai apothanôn anestê, kai anelêluthen eis ouranon." -- In his Dialogue with Trypho the Jew (written after the First Apology) he says: "For through the name of this very Son of God, who is also the First-born of every creature, and who was born of a Virgin, and made a man subject to suffering, and was crucified by your nation in the time of Pontius Pilate, and died, and rose again from the dead, and ascended into heaven, every evil spirit is exorcised and overcome and subdued."# -- # Dial., 85. "kata gar tou omonatos autou toutou tou huiou tou theou, kai prôtotokou pases ktiseôs, kai dia parthenou gennêthentos kai pathêtou genomenou anthrôpou, kai staurôthentos epi Pontiou Pilatou hupo tou laou humôn kai apothanontos kai anastantos ek nekrôn, kai anabantos eis ton ouranon, pan daimonion exorkizomenon nikatai kai hupotassetai." -- 4. St. Irenaeus. Writing not later than 190, he makes constant reference to the Virgin-Birth as an integral portion of the Faith of Christendom. He says: "The Church, though scattered over the whole world to the ends of the earth, yet having received from the Apostles and their disciples the Faith-- In one God the Father Almighty... and in one Christ Jesus, the Son of God, who was incarnate for our salvation: and in the Holy Ghost, who by the Prophets announced His dispensations and His comings; and the birth of the Virgin (kai tên ek Parthenou gennêsin), and the Passion, and Resurrection from the dead, and the bodily assumption into heaven of the beloved Jesus Christ our Lord, and His appearance from heaven in the glory of the Father . . . having received, as we said, this preaching and this Faith, the Church, though scattered over the whole world, guards it diligently, as inhabiting one house, and believes in accordance with these words as having one soul and the same heart; and with one voice preaches and teaches and hands on these things, as if possessing one mouth. For the languages of the world are unlike, but the force of the tradition is one and the same."* -- * Contra Haeres., I. x. 1, 2. "Hê men gar Ekklêsia, kaiper kath' holês tês oikoumenês heôs peratôn tês gês diesparmenê, para de tôn Apostolôn kai tôn ekeivôn mathêtôn paralabousa tên eis hena theon Patera pantokratora . . . pistin; kai eis hena Christon Jêsoun, ton huion tou theou, ton sarkôthenta huper tês hêmteras sôtêrias; kai eis Pneuma Hagion, to dia tôn prophêtôn kekêruchos tas oikonomias, kai tas eleuseis, kai tên ek Parthenou gennêsin, kai to pathos, kai tên egersin ek vekrôn, kai tên ensarkon eis tous ournous analêpsin tou êgapêmenou Christou Iêsou tou Kuriou hêmôn, kai tên ouranôn en tê doxê tou Patros parousian. . . . Touto to kêrugma pareilêphuia kai tautên tên pistin, hôs proephamen, hê Ekklêsia, kaiper en holô tô kosmô diesparmenê, epimelôs phulassei, hôs hena oikon oikousa; kai homoiôs pisteuei toutois, hôs mian psuchên kai tên autên echousa kardian, kai sumphônôs tauta kêrusse kai didaskei, kai paradidôsin, hôs hen stoma kektêmenê, kai gar hai kata ton kosmon dialektoi anomoiai, all' hê dunamis tês paradoseôs mia kai hê autê." -- He goes on to say that in this Faith agree the Churches of Germany, Spain, Gaul, The East, Egypt, Libya, and Italy. His words are: "No otherwise have the Churches established in Germany believed and delivered, nor those in Spain, nor those among the Celts, nor those in the East, nor in Egypt, nor in Libya, nor those established in the central parts of the earth."+ -- + Contra Haeres., I. x. 2. "Kai oute hai en Germaniais hidrumenai Ekklêsiai allôs pepisteukasin, ê allôs paradidoasin, oute en tais Ibêriasis, oute en Keltois, oute kata tas anatolas, oute en Aiguptô, oute en Libuê, oute hai kata mesa tou kosmou hidrumenai." -- Again, in the same work we read of the many races of Barbarians "who believe in Christ . . . believe in one God, the Framer of heaven and earth and of all things that are in them, by Christ Jesus the Son of God, who for His surpassing love's sake towards His creatures, submitted to the birth which was of the Virgin, Himself by Himself uniting man to God."# -- # Contra Haeres., III. iv. x, 2. "Qui in Christum credunt... in unum Deum credentes, Factorem coeli et terrae, et omnium quae in eis sunt, per Iesum Christum Dei Filium; qui propter eminentissimam erga figmentum Suum dilectionem, eam quae esset ex Virgine generationem sustinuit, ipse per se hominem adunans Deo." -- 5. Tertullian. His writings represent the teaching of the Churches of Rome and Carthage, and, writing a little later than Irenaeus (c. 200), he assures us again and again that the Virgin-Birth is an integral portion of the Catholic Faith. "The rule of faith," he says, "is altogether one, alone firm and unalterable; the rule, that is, of believing in One God Almighty, the Maker of the world; and His Son Jesus Christ, born of the Virgin Mary, crucified under Pontius Pilate."* -- * De Virg. Veland., 1. "Regula quidem fidei una omnino est, sola immobilis et irreformabilis, credendi scilicet, in unicum Deum Omnipotentem, mundi Conditorem; et Filium ejus Jesum Christum, nature ex Virgine Maria, crucifixum sub Pontio Pilato." -- "Now the rule of faith . . . is that whereby it is believed that there is in any wise but one God, who by His own Word first of all sent forth, brought all things out of nothing; that this Word called His Son, was . . . brought down at last by the Spirit and the power of God the Father into the Virgin Mary, made flesh in her womb, and was born of her."+ -- + De Praescript. Haeret., cap. xiii. "Regula est autem fidei, . . . illa scilicet qua creditur: Unum omnino Deum esse qui universa de nihilo produxerit per Verbum suum primo omnium demissum; id Verbum, Filium ejus appellatum .... postremo delatum ex Spiritu Patris Dei et virtute, in Virginem Mariam, carnem factum in utero eius, et ex ea natum." -- Again, speaking of the Trinity, he writes that the Word, "by whom all things were made, and without whom nothing was made, was sent by the Father into a Virgin, was born of her--God and Man--Son of man, Son of God, and was called Jesus Christ."# -- # Adv, Prax., cap. ii. "Per quem omnia facta sunt, et sine quo factum est nihil. Hunc missum a Patre in Virginem, et ex ea natum, Hominem et Deum, Filium hominis et Filium Dei, et cognominatum Jesum Christum." -- 6. Clement. Clement about the year 190, and Origen about 230, represent the great Church of Alexandria. Their testimony to the place which the Virgin-Birth holds in the Church is clear and unhesitating. Clement speaks of the whole dispensation as consisting in this, "that the Son of God who made the universe took flesh and was conceived in the womb of a Virgin . . . and suffered and rose again."* -- * Strom. vi. 15. 127. "Hêdê de kai hê oikonomia pasa hê peri tou kuriou prophêteutheisa, parabolê hôs alêthôs phainetai tois mê tên alêtheian egnôkosian, hot' an tis ton huion tou theou, tou ta panta pepoiêkotos, sarka aneilêphota, kai en mêtra parthenou kuoporêthenta . . . teponthota kei anestramenon legei." -- 7. Origen. In the De Principiis, Origen writes: "The particular points clearly delivered in the teaching of the Apostles are as follows: First, that there is one God, . . . then that Jesus Christ Himself who came [into the world] was born of the Father before all creation; that after He had been the minister of the Father in the creation of all things--for by Him were all things made--in the last times, emptying Himself He became man and was incarnate, although He was God, and being made man He remained that which He was, God. He assumed a body like our own, differing in this respect only, that it was born of a Virgin and of the Holy Spirit."* -- * De Principiis, Lib. I., Pref., 4. "Species vero eorum quae per praedicationem apostolicam manifeste traduntur, istae sunt, Primo, quod unus Deus est . . . tum deinde quia Jesus Christus ipse qui venit, ante omnem creaturam natus ex Patre est. Qui cum in omnium conditione Patri ministrasset (per ipsum enim omnia facta sunt); novissimis temporibus se ipsum exinaniens, homo fictus incarnatus est, cum Deus esset, et homo, factus mansit quod erat, Deus. Corpus assumsit nostro corpori simile, eo solo differens, quod natum ex Virgine et Spiritu Sancto est." -- In his Treatise against Celsus he exclaims: "Who has not heard of the Virgin-Birth of Jesus, of the Crucified, of His Resurrection of which so many are convinced, and the announcement of the judgment to come?"+ -- + Contr. Celsum, i. 7. "Tini gar lanthanei hê ek parthenou gennêsis Iêsus kai ho estaurômenos kai hê papa pollois pepistreumenê anastasis autou, kai hê katangellomenê krisis." -- Think for a moment what all this agreement--this consensus of tradition implies. The testimony of these writers clearly shows that in the early part of the second century, and reaching back to its very beginning, the Virgin-Birth formed part of the tradition or doctrinal creed of the Church, and that this tradition was believed to be traced back to the Apostles. It has a place in the earliest forms of the Creed: it is insisted upon by the earliest Apologists. It is not merely in one Church or two Churches, in one district or in two, that this tradition is found. It is everywhere. In East and West alike. It is so in Rome and in Gaul (by the testimony of Irenaeus). It is in Greece (by the testimony of Aristides). It is in Africa (by the testimony of Tertullian); in Alexandria (by the testimony of Clement and Origen); in Asia (by the testimony of Justin Martyr, Irenaeus, and Ignatius); in Palestine and Syria (by the testimony of Ignatius and Justin Martyr). Irenaeus, if any one, should know what the Apostles taught, for before he came to Rome he had been the pupil of Polycarp in Asia, who had himself sat at the feet of St. John. "Everything that we know," says Mr. Rendel Harris, "of the Dogmatics of the early part of the second century agrees with the belief that at that period the Virginity of Mary was a part of the formulated Christian belief."* How could the belief in the Virgin-Birth have taken such undisputed possession of so many widely separated and independent Churches unless it had had Apostolic authority?+ What other explanation can be given for the fact? There is as complete a consensus of tradition as could reasonably be asked for. It is impossible to imagine that the doctrine of the Virgin-Birth can have been suddenly evolved in the early years of the second century. The only adequate explanation is that it was a substantial part of the Apostolic tradition. It may be worth while here to quote the words of so distinguished a scholar as Professor Zahn, of Erlangen. "This [the Virgin-Birth] has been an element of the Creed as far as we can trace it back; and if Ignatius can be taken as a witness of a Baptismal Creed springing from early Apostolic times, certainly in that Creed the name of the Virgin Mary already had its place .... We may further assert that during the first four centuries of the Church, no teacher and no religious community which can be considered with any appearance of right as an heir of original Christianity, had any other notion of the beginning of the [human] life of Jesus of Nazareth .... The theory of an original Christianity without the belief in Jesus the Son of God, born of the Virgin, is a fiction."# -- * See Texts and Studies (Cambridge, 1891), vol. i. No. I, p. 25. + "Ecquid verisimile est, ut tot ac tantae [ecclesiae] in unam fidem erraverint?"--Tertullian, De Praescript, cap. xxviii. # "Dies aber ist ein Element des Symbolum gewesen, so weit wir dasselbe zuruckverfolgen konnen; und wenn Ignatius als Zeuge fur ein noch ateres, aus fruher apostolischer Zeit stammendes Taufbekenntnis gelten darf, so hat auch in diesem bereits der Name der Jungfrau Maria seine Stelle gehabt . . . Man darf ferner behauften, dass wathrend der ersten vier Jahrhunderte der Kirche kein Lehrer und Keine religiose Genossenschaft, welche sich mit einigem Schein des Rechts als Erben des ursprfinglichen Christenthums betrachten konnten, eine andere Auschauung yon dem Lebensanfang Jesu yon Nazareth gehabt haben, als diese .... Dass die Annahme eines ursprunglichen Christenthums ohne den Glauben an den yon der Jungfrau geborenen Gottessohn Jesus eine Fiktion ist."--Zahn, Das Apostolische Symbolum, pp. 55-68. -- Opponents of the Virgin-Birth occur, indeed, in the person of Cerinthus, the contemporary of St. John, and later on among the Ebionites, mentioned by Justin Martyr.* But they reject the Virgin-Birth, because they reject the principle of the Incarnation. "There are no believers in the Incarnation discoverable who are not believers in the Virgin-Birth."+ The two truths have been held together as inseparable. There has never been any belief in the Incarnation without its carrying with it the belief in the Virgin-Birth. -- * Dial cum Tryph., 48, 49. + Gore, Dissertations, p. 48. -- II THE GOSPELS OF ST. MATTHEW AND ST. LUKE But if such was the belief of Christians everywhere in the early years of the second century, can we trace the evidence further back? In answering this question, we are brought face to face with the Gospels. But first it must be noted that the positive evidence for such a subject must, in the nature of the case, be much more limited than the evidence for the Resurrection. The Apostles were primarily witnesses of what they themselves had seen. There are two persons, and two only, from whom we could reasonably expect to hear the truth about the mystery of the miraculous Conception--Mary and Joseph; and when we open the Gospels we have, as everybody knows, two narratives of the Nativity--St. Luke's and St. Matthew's. (I) St. Luke, in describing the Nativity, is using an Aramaic document. There is a great difference in style between the preface, which is his own, and that of the narrative which follows. It was an Aramaic document (as Godet, Weiss, and Dr. Sanday agree); but more than this, as Bishop Gore has pointed out: "It breathes the spirit of the Messianic hope, before it had received the rude and crushing blow involved in the rejection of the Messiah."* The Christology of the passage is pre-Christian: "He shall be great, and shall be called the Son of the Highest: and the Lord God shall give unto Him the throne of His father David: and He shall reign over the house of Jacob for ever; and of His kingdom there shall be no end."+ -- * Gore, Dissertations, p. 16. + St. Luke i. 32, 33. -- "How can all this," Dr. Chase asks, "be the invention of a believer in the Messiahship of Jesus when the Jews had rejected Him, and when the Resurrection and Ascension had raised the conception of His Messiahship to the height of a spiritual and universal sovereignty? The Christology of these passages is a striking proof of their primitive character."# It is indeed difficult to see how men can read the Benedictus or Magnificat without realizing this. Every verse in them is full of Jewish thought and Jewish expressions, such as would have been impossible had they been the inventions of a later date. -- # Chase, Supernatural Elements in our Lord's Earthly Life. -- That is to say, these two chapters bear traces on the face of them of being what they profess to be--a true and genuine account of the human Birth of Jesus Christ, received ultimately from her who alone could be competent to give it--the Virgin-Mother herself. For it must be Mary's account if it is genuine. It is given to us by St. Luke, who tells us that he "had traced the course of all things accurately from the first," and who had gathered information concerning, be it observed, "those things which are most surely believed among the disciples."* "It is an account," says Bishop Gore, "which there is no evidence to show the imagination of an early Christian capable of producing; for its consummate fitness, reserve, sobriety, and loftiness are unquestionable. What solid reason is there for not accepting it?"+ It is extraordinarily difficult to imagine that St. Luke, whose accuracy and care have been, in recent years, so severely tested and found not wanting, should have been so careless as to append to his Gospel a spurious account of so momentous an occurrence as the human Birth of our Lord. "Historical accuracy is not a capricious and intermittent impulse," writes Bishop Alexander. "It is a fixed habit of mind, the result of a particular discipline. Historians of the school of the author of the Acts of the Apostles are not men to build a flamboyant portal of romance over the entrance to the austere temple of truth."# -- * St. Luke i. 1-4. + Gore, Dissertations, p. 18. # Bishop Alexander's Leading Ideas of the Gospels, pp. 154, 155. -- (2) The account in St. Matthew's Gospel, if genuine, must have come from Joseph. It is his perplexities which are in question, and Divine intimations are given to him, on three occasions, how to act for the safety of the mother and the Child. The facts which appear in the Third Gospel are clearly prior to those reported in the First: the Annunciation, Mary's visit to Judaea, her return to Nazareth, precede Joseph's discovery and dream, which follow appropriately upon the Virgin's return. How this account has been preserved in the First Gospel we do not know, for we know so very little about the authorship of that Gospel; but there is nothing at all unreasonable in Bishop Gore's conjecture* that St. Joseph (who must have died before the public ministry of our Lord began) left some document detailing the circumstances of the Birth of Jesus Christ; that this document would have been given to Mary (to vindicate, by means of it, when occasion demanded, her own virginity), and that after Pentecost she may have given it to the family of Joseph, the now believing "brethren of the Lord," and from their hands it passed into those of the author of the First Gospel. -- * Gore, Dissertations, pp. 28, 29. -- The Evangelist dwells, as is well known, on the fulfilment of prophecy; but in regard to the particular prophecy of Isaiah, "Behold, a virgin shall conceive, and bear a son, and shall call His name Immanuel,"* it cannot with any probability be said that the prophecy suggested the event; for it does not seem at all likely that there was any Jewish expectation that the Christ should be born of a Virgin. We can understand the prophecy being adduced in order to attest a story already current (this would be wholly after St. Matthew's method); but the prophecy itself, with one's eye on the Hebrew text of Isaiah,+ could scarcely have led to the fabrication of this particular story about the Messiah's birth. Probably the notion of a Virgin-born Messiah would have been alien to ordinary Jewish ideas.# In any case, the Jews did not so interpret the passage, and in fact, to quote Professor Stanton, "It is an instance in which the principle would hold that it is more easy to suppose the meaning of prophetic language to have been strained to fit facts, than that facts should have been invented to correspond with prophetic language."^ That is to say, it is wholly reasonable and entirely in keeping with the method of the first Evangelist, that when once he had come to know that the Messiah had been born in Bethlehem of a Virgin-Mother, he should have recognized in that wondrous birth the fulfilment of the ancient prophecy of Isaiah. He would then see that whatever primary and lesser fulfilment the words of Isaiah might have, they were only completely fulfilled in Him who is the end of all prophecy, who was conceived of the Holy Ghost, and born of the Virgin Mary.| -- * Isa. vii. 14. + See Note at the end. # So Dr. Chase. ^ Stanton, Jewish and Christian Messiah, p. 378. | See Eck, The Incarnation, p. 87. -- It is hard to bring one's self to speak of the theory put forward by Professor Usener, in which he says that the story of the Virgin-Birth is traceable "to a pagan substratum, and that it must have arisen in Gentile circles."* Surely this is wholly contrary to all probability. How can any serious student think that any but Jewish hands could have penned the first two chapters of St. Matthew's Gospel? "The story," says Professor Chase, "moves, like that of St. Luke, within the circle of Eastern conceptions; it is pre-eminently and essentially Jewish. Moreover, if time is to be found for the complicated interaction between paganism and Christianity which this theory involves, the First and Third Gospels must be placed at a date which I believe is quite untenable."+ -- * Encyc. Bibl., iii. 3352. + Chase, Supernatural Elements in our Lord's Earthly Life, p. 21. -- That there are differences and even discrepancies between the two accounts, which are manifestly independent of one another, serves surely to strengthen their witness to the great central fact in which they are at one--that Christ was born of a Virgin-Mother at Bethlehem, in the days of Herod the king. There appears, then, to be no reason for doubting that in St. Luke's Gospel we have a genuine account derived from Mary herself, and that in St. Matthew's Gospel we have an account left by St. Joseph, "worked over by the Evangelist in view of his predominant interest--that of calling attention to the fulfilments of prophecies."* Wherever, therefore, these two Gospels had reached in the second half of the first century, there the story of the Virgin-Birth was known. If the story thus attested by the first and third Evangelists were really a fiction, it is hard indeed to believe that it would not have been contradicted by some who were still living, and who knew that the story was different from that which the Mother herself had delivered them. "If," says Dean Alford, speaking of the Third Gospel, "not the mother of our Lord herself, yet His brethren were certainly living; and the universal reception of the Gospel in the very earliest ages sufficiently demonstrates that no objection to this part of the sacred narrative had been heard of as raised by them."+ -- * Gore, Dissertations, p. 29. + Greek Test., vol. i. Prolog. sect. viii. p. 48. -- There is no other alternative but to regard both stories as legends independently circulated in the ancient Church. "So artificial an explanation would probably have found little favour with scholars if there had been no miracle to suggest it. It is too commonly assumed that evidence which would be good under ordinary circumstances is bad where the supernatural is involved."* Certainly it would seem to be in a high degree improbable that two such accounts as those of the Birth of Jesus Christ which we have in these two Gospels should be the work of forgers; and this improbability is further heightened when we compare them with the legendary accounts of His infancy which were actually current in the early centuries.+ -- * Swete, Church Congress Report (1902), p. 163. + See Preface, p. xi. -- III THE SILENCE OF OTHER NEW TESTAMENT WRITERS What are the objections brought against all this evidence? The main objection is the silence of the other writers of the New Testament. To reply-- (I) First, we may surely ask--Why should they mention it? This sort of argument from silence is most precarious. Are we to infer that because there is no mention of the Cross or the Crucifixion in the Epistles of St. James or of St. Jude, that it was unknown to this group of writers, and that they were unaware of the manner of Christ's Death? "We might much more naturally infer it than we may infer that the Virgin-Birth was unknown because St. James speaks of Christ's Death, and it would therefore have been quite natural for him to speak of the exact mode of it, whereas our Lord's Birth is very seldom referred to in the New Testament, and when it is referred to it would not have aided the argument, or been at all to the point to mention how that Birth was brought about."* -- * A. J. Mason, in the Guardian, November 19, 1902. -- Or, because St. John omits all mention of the institution of the Holy Eucharist, are we to suppose that he knew nothing of that Sacrament? (2) The subject of the Virgin-Birth was not one which the Apostles would be likely to dwell on much. They were above all witnesses of what they had seen and heard. They come before us insisting, therefore, on what they could themselves personally attest--especially on the Resurrection. They had seen and heard the risen Christ, and the Resurrection was at once a vindication of His Messianic claims, and a manifestation of the dignity of His Person. "This praeternatural fact, the fulfilment of the 'sign'+ which He had Himself promised, a fact concerning the reality of which they offered themselves as witnesses, would carry with it a readiness to accept a fact like the Virgin-Birth, concerning which the same sort of evidence was not possible."^ -- + St. John ii. 18, 19; St. Matt. xii. 40. ^ Hall, The Virgin-Mother, p. 215. -- Belief in Jesus Christ as the Son of God, belief in His Life, in His Death, in His miracles, in His Resurrection,--these came first, and these were the subjects of Apostolic preaching,* and belief in His Virgin-Birth (ultimately attested by Mary and Joseph) easily followed. -- * Acts i. 22; ii. 32. -- It is instructive in this connection to draw attention to the Acts of the Apostles. As every one knows, it is St. Luke's second volume--the Third Gospel being his first. Now, the Gospel begins with the account of Christ's miraculous Conception and Birth, but there is no reference to these mysteries in the rest of the Gospel or in the Acts. "The reason for the silence in the Acts is the same as for the silence in the subsequent chapters of the Gospel. The Jews had to learn the meaning of the Person of Christ from His own revelation of Himself in His words and works. To have begun with proclaiming the story of His miraculous Birth would have created prejudice and hindered the reception of that revelation. "Similarly, in the Acts, both Jews and Gentiles had first to learn in the experience of the life of the Church what Jesus had done and said. Only when they had learned that, was it time to go on and ask who He was and whence He came."+ The same point is illustrated by St. Mark's silence. "Had he given any account of our Lord's early years, there would be some ground for pitting him (so to speak) against St. Matthew and St. Luke."^ But this Gospel begins, as every one knows, with the public ministry of our Lord. It is, in fact, the Gospel which reflects the oral teaching and preaching of St. Peter, and so it begins naturally enough at the point where that Apostle first came in contact with Christ. -- + Rackham, Acts of the Apostles, p. lxxiv. ^ Hall, The Virgin-Mother, p. 217. -- (3) If in these writers of the New Testament expressions had been used inconsistent with the Virgin-Birth, it would be a very serious matter: but what are the facts? In the few cases where the Birth is mentioned, there is nothing said which implies that His Birth in the flesh was analogous in all respects to ours. Consider St. John's Gospel. The silence on the Virgin-Birth can occasion, one would think, no real difficulty. His Gospel is a supplementary record, and he does not, for the most part, repeat historical statements already made by the other Evangelists. It seems altogether impossible to suppose that St. John was ignorant of the Virgin-Birth. Ignatius, who was Bishop of Antioch quite at the beginning of the second century, and therefore only a few years after the writing of this Gospel, calls it (the Virgin-Birth) a mystery of open proclamation in the Church. (Eph., 19.) Indeed, on any theory of the date or authorship of this Gospel, there is every reason for believing that the Virgin-Birth was, at the time it was compiled, part and parcel of the tradition of the Church. But when St. John does speak of the Incarnation, in the prologue to his Gospel, when he says, "The Word was made flesh, and dwelt among us," (St. John i. 14.) there is nothing in these words to suggest anything inconsistent with the miraculous story related by St. Matthew and St. Luke. In fact, we may say more than this. We may say that his teaching about the Pre-existent Divine Logos who "was made flesh, and dwelt among us," is felt to be a natural explanation of St. Matthew's narrative as well as of St. Luke's; for, as we shall see, it is the question of the Divine Pre-existence of the Logos on which the reasonableness of the doctrine of the Virgin-Birth really turns. St. John does, in fact, in connection with this mystery of the Virgin-Birth, what he does in the case of Baptism and the Holy Eucharist, "he supplies the justifying principle--in this case the principle of the Incarnation--without supplying what was already current and well known, the record of the fact."* -- * Gore, Dissertations, p. 8, seq. -- And it may be added, further, that Mary's word at Cana of Galilee: "They have no wine," and her subsequent order to the servants: "Whatsoever He saith unto you, do it," (St. John ii. 3, 5.) are a clear indication that in the view of St. John she regarded Him as a miraculous Person, and expected of Him miraculous action.+ I think that, in regard to the Gospels, their relationship to one another may be summed up in the words of Bishop Alexander: "The fact of the Incarnation is recorded by St. Matthew and St. Luke; it is assumed by St. Mark; the idea which vitalizes the fact is dominant in St. John."^ -- + Gore, loc. cit. ^ Bishop Alexander's Leading Ideas, Introd., p. xxiv. -- Consider next St. Paul's references to the Incarnation:-- "God sent forth His Son, born of a woman." (Gal. iv. 4) He does not say, "born of human parents." "His Son our Lord, who was born of the seed of David according to the flesh." (Rom. i. 3.) "Being in the form of God, thought it not robbery to be equal with God; but made Himself of no reputation, and took upon Him the form of a servant, and was made in the likeness of men." (Phil. ii. 6, 7.) These are the passages in which St. Paul refers to the Birth of Jesus Christ. Not one of them is inconsistent with the fact that He was born of a Virgin. But one can say more than this. Every one of these passages infers that He who was born in time had existed before. They either assert or imply a Divine pre-existence. He who was "made in the likeness of men" was already pre-existent in the "form of God," and was, in fact, "equal with God." This being the case, does it not prepare us for the further truth that, when He entered into the conditions of human life, He entered it not in all respects like us? I should mar if I ventured to abbreviate Dr. Mason's admirable words, in which he presses this argument-- "Like causes produce like effects. In similar circumstances, you may expect the same forces to operate in the same way. But when some new force is introduced, you cannot expect the same results. The Birth of Christ, if He is what all the writers of the New Testament believed Him to be, was necessarily unlike ours in that one great respect. We had no existence before we were born, however poets and poetical philosophers may play with the notion. But the New Testament writers believed that He whom we know as Jesus Christ was living with a full, vigorous, personal life for ages before He appeared in the world as man. They maintained that He was present and active in the making of the world, and immanent in the development of human history, which formed a new beginning at His Birth. They said He was God, the Only Begotten Son of the Eternal Father, who came down from heaven, and voluntarily entered into the conditions of human life. Admit the possibility that they were right, and you will no longer ask that His mode of entrance into our conditions should be in all things like our own. If you acknowledge that Jesus Christ was Divine first and became human afterwards, you cannot but say with St. Ambrose, when you hear that He was born of a Virgin: 'Talis decet partus Deum'--a birth of that kind is befitting to one who is God. We do not--no one ever did--believe Christ to be God because He was born of a Virgin; that is not the order of thought [and we have seen that it was certainly not the order of Apostolic preaching]; but we can recognize that if He was God, it was not unnatural for Him to be so born. No sound genuine historical criticism can deny that the Virgin-Birth was part of the Creed of Primitive Christianity, and that nothing that can be truly called science can object to that belief, unless it starts with the assumption, which, of course, it cannot even attempt to prove, that Christ was never more than man."* Similarly Professor Stanton: "The chief ground on which thoughtful Christian believers are ready to accept it [the miraculous Conception] is that, believing in the personal indissoluble union between God and man in Jesus Christ, the miraculous Birth of Jesus Christ is the only fitting accompaniment for this unions and, so to speak, the natural expression of it in the order of outward effects."+ -- * Guardian, November 19, 1902. + Stanton, Jewish and Christian Messiah p. 376. -- IV OUR LORD AS THE SECOND ADAM But we may surely go further than this, and say that, in regard to St. Paul, his language as to the Second Adam seems to necessitate the Virgin-Birth. In St. Paul's view there are, so to speak, only two men: "The first man is of the earth earthy; the second man is the Lord from heaven" (1 Cor. xx. 47.)--a new starting-point for humanity. This doctrine of the Second Adam, of this fresh start given to the human race by Jesus Christ, would seem to require His Birth of a Virgin, for the Virgin-Birth is bound up with any really Catholic notion of the Incarnation. For what is the Catholic doctrine of Incarnation? Do we mean by Incarnation that on an already existing human being there descended in an extraordinary measure the Divine Spirit, so that He was by moral association so closely allied to God that He might be called God? Do we mean that some preminent saint, called Jesus, responded with such "signal readiness" to the Divine Voice, "and realized more worthily than any other man 'the Divine idea' of human excellence, so that to Him, by a laxity of phrase not free from profaneness, men might thus ascribe a so-called 'moral Divinity'"? Then, I say quite freely, if that is what we mean, that the Virgin-Birth is, so far as we can see, an altogether gratuitous addition, an unnecessary miracle. That is, so far as I can understand it, the idea of Incarnation entertained by moderns who reject or question the Catholic Faith. But let me say as clearly as possible that this is not, and never has been, what the Christian Church means by Incarnation. The New Testament does not tell us of a deified man: no, we begin with a Divine Person. "The 'I' in Him, His very self, is Divine, not human; yet has He condescended to take our humanity into union with His Divine Person, to assume it as His own." He who was from all eternity a single Divine Person took upon Him our nature, and was "made man;" and if this be so, what other entrance into our condition is imaginable save that which we confess in the Creed--that He was "conceived by the Holy Ghost, born of the Virgin Mary"? "The Creeds pass immediately from confessing Jesus Christ to be 'the only Son of God' to the fact that He was 'born of the Virgin Mary,' and neither of those articles of the Catholic Faith can be abandoned without disturbing the foundations of the other."* -- * Swete, Church Congress Report (1901), p. 164. -- If Christ was born naturally of human parents, He must, one would think, have taken to Himself a human personality; He must have existed in two persons as well as in two natures. But what we are to insist on in thinking of and teaching this mystery is this truth of the single Divine Personality of our Lord. The old Nestorian heresy (with certain important modifications) is being resuscitated among us. Nestorianism, new and old, begins from below, and speaks of a man who by moral "association" became "Divine;" it speaks, that is to say, of a deified man. The Christian Faith begins from above-it speaks of Him who from all eternity was God, taking upon Him our flesh. He took upon Him our nature, but He did not assume a human personality. He wrapped our human nature round His own Divine Person. On the Nestorian theory, God did but benefit one man by raising him to a unique dignity; on the Catholic theory, He benefitted the race of men, by raising human nature into union with His Divine Person. Those who speak, somewhat incautiously surely, of Incarnation, while they deny or question the Virgin-Birth, should be asked to consider what they say and to reflect what their words imply. A man born naturally of human parents but taken up, on account of a wonderfully high moral character, into close union with God, can never differ in kind from any saint. He can never benefit the race of men save by way of example. His death can never effect our redemption, for it does not differ in kind from the death of a martyr. Being only a great saint himself, he cannot represent mankind either on the Cross or before the Throne. One man has been assumed into heaven. But this is wholly a different thing from the Faith of Christendom, which is that God has taken human nature into union with His Divine Person, in that nature God died upon the Cross, and in that nature He pleads before the Throne for the race of men. It is because Christ's Person is Divine, that His life means to us Christians what it does. "No person," says Hooker, "was born of the Virgin but the Son of God, no person but the Son of God baptized, the Son of God condemned, the Son of God and no other person crucified; which one only point of Christian belief, the infinite worth of the Son of God, is the very ground of all things believed concerning life and salvation by that which Christ either did or suffered as man in our behalf."* "That," says Bishop Andrewes, "which setteth the high price upon this sacrifice is this, that He which offereth it to God is God."+ -- * Eccl. Pol., v. 52. 3. + Second Sermon on the Passion. -- "Marvel not," says St. Cyril of Jerusalem, "if the whole world has been redeemed; for He who has died for us is no mere man, but the Only Begotten Son of God."^ "Christ," says St. Cyril of Alexandria, "would not have been equivalent [as a sacrifice] for the whole creation, nor would He have sufficed to redeem the world, nor have laid down His life by way of price for it, and poured forth for us His precious Blood, if He be not really the Son, and God of God." # -- ^ Catech., xiii. 2. # De Sancta Trinitate, dial. A. (quoted Liddon, B. L., p. 477). -- How different is all this from the language of those who would deny or question the Virgin-Birth! With them the Resurrection is denied as a literal fact; the whole meaning of the Atonement as being a real sacrifice for sin, a real propitiation, is eviscerated of its meaning, and is reduced to a moral appeal to man; and finally, we find that whereas Christians have been thinking and speaking of Christ as truly God, who in becoming man "did not abhor the Virgin's womb," modern writers really mean a very good man who does not, however, differ in kind but only in excellence of degree from any saint; and by Incarnation they mean that moral union which a good man has with God, only illustrated in the case of Christ in an altogether unique degree. If, however, the Incarnation be what Christendom believes it to have been; if the Son of God did really take flesh in the womb of Mary, and became man, not by assuming a human personality, but by assuming human nature, by entering into human conditions of life,--it is indeed difficult to imagine any other way of such an Incarnation save by way of the Virgin-Birth, by which the entail of original sin was cut off, and humanity made a fresh start in the Eternal Person of the Second Adam. And if He is indeed sinless, the sinless Example, the sinless Sacrifice, how could He be otherwise born? Adam, at his fall, passed on to the human race a vitiated nature, which we all share--a nature biassed in a wrong direction. It descended--this vitiated nature--from father to son to all generations of men. If this entail of original sin was to be cut off, if there was really to be a new Adam, a second start for the human race, how could it be contrived otherwise than by a Virgin-Birth? The Son of Mary was indeed wholly human--completely man--but "in Him humanity inherited no part of that bad legacy which came across the ages from the Fall."* When a modern writer says, "We should not now, h priori, expect that the Incarnate Logos would be born without a human father,"+ we may reply that we are hardly in a position to expect anything a priori in the matter; but when once we have learnt that this Incarnate Logos was to be the Second Head of the human race--the sinless Son of Man--and that in Him humanity was to make a fresh start, it is indeed difficult to see how this could be without the miracle of the Virgin-Birth. -- * Liddon, Christmas Sermons, p. 97. + See Contentio Veritatis, p. 88. -- I should like to say, in conclusion, that I cannot disguise my conviction that just as in the early days we find no denial of the Virgin-Birth except among those who denied and objected to the principle of the Incarnation (on the ground, apparently, of the essential evil of matter), so, conversely, that the attempt now being made (or the suggestion put forward) to separate the Incarnation and the Virgin-Birth will prove to be an impossibility. Once reject the tradition of the Virgin-Birth, and the Incarnation will go with it. For a few years, indeed, men will use the old language, the word "Incarnation" will be on their lips; but it will be found before long that by that term they do not mean God manifest in human flesh, but they mean a man born naturally of human parents, who most clearly manifested to men the Christian idea of a perfect human character. Such a conception as this brings no solace to human hearts. No saint, however great, could be our Saviour; no saint could have atoned for sin; and assuredly no saint could be to any of us the source of our new life--the well-spring and fountain of Divine grace. NOTE ON ISAIAH VII. 14 THE word for "the Virgin" in the Hebrew text is ha-almah. It is an ambiguous word, and does not necessarily imply, though it certainly does not necessarily exclude, the idea of virginity. Etymologically it means puella nubilis--a maiden of marriageable age. In four* out of six other places in the Old Testament where it is employed, it is used of virgins. Its use in the two other passages+ is doubtful, but does not with any certainty imply virginity. -- * Gen. xxiv. 43; Exod. ii. 8; Ps. lxviii. 25; Cant. i. 3. + Prov. xxx. x 9; Cant. vi. 8. -- The Septuagint translators, some two hundred years before Christ, translated the word hê parthenos. Aquila, Symmachus, and Theodotion, in the second century of our era (apparently in order to vitiate the Christian appeal to this passage), translated the word neanis. THE END 
15563	----	REASON AND FAITH; THEIR CLAIMS AND CONFLICTS. [by Henry Rogers] THE EDINBURGH REVIEW, OCTOBER, 1849. [Volume 90] No. CLXXXII. [Pages 293-356] Art.I--1. Historic Doubts relative to Napoleon Buonaparte Eighth edition, pp. 60. 8vo. London. 2. The Nemesis of Faith. By J. A. Froude, M. A., Fellow of Exeter College, Oxford. 12mo. London: pp. 227. 3. Popular Christianity, its Transition State and Probable Development. By F. J. Foxton, B. A.; formerly of Pembroke College, Oxford, and Perpetual Curate of Stoke Prior and Docklow, Herefordshire. 12mo. London: pp. 226. 'Reason and Faith,' says one of our old divines, with the quaintness characteristic of his day, 'resemble the two sons of the patriarch; Reason is the firstborn, but Faith inherits the blessing. The image is ingenious, and the antithesis striking; but nevertheless the sentiment is far from just. It is hardly right to represent Faith as younger than reason: the fact undoubtedly being, that human creatures trust and believe, long before they reason or know. But the truth is, that both reason and Faith are coeval with the nature of man, and were designed to dwell in his heart together. In truth they are, and were, and, in such creatures as ourselves, must be, reciprocally complementary--neither can exclude the other. It is as impossible to exercise an acceptable faith without reason for so exercising it,--that is, without exercising reason while we exercise faith*,--as it is to apprehend by our reason, exclusive of faith, all the truths on which we are daily compelled to act, whether in relation to this world or the next. Neither is it right to represent either of them as failing of the promised heritage, except as both may fail alike, by perversion from their true end, and depravation of their genuine nature; for it to the faith of which the New Testament speaks so much, a peculiar blessing is promised, it is evident from the same volume that it is not a 'faith without reason' any more than a 'faith without works,' which is approved by the Author of Christianity. And this is sufficiently proved by the injunction 'to be ready to give a reason for the hope,'--and therefore for the faith,--'which is in us.' ____ * Let it be said that we are here playing upon an ambiguity in the word Reason;--considered in the first clause as an argument; and in the second, as the characteristic endowment of our species. The distinction between Reason and Reasoning (though most important) does not affect our statement; for though Reason may be exercised where there is no giving of reasons, there can be no giving of reasons without the exercise of Reason. ____ If, therefore, we were to imitate the quaintness of the old divine, on whose dictum we have been commenting, we should rather compare Reason and Faith to the two trusty spies, 'faithful amongst the 'faithless,' who confirmed each other's report of 'that good land which flowed with milk and honey,' and to both of whom the promise of a rich inheritance there was given,--and, in due time, amply redeemed. Or, rather, if we might be permitted to pursue the same vein a little further, and throw over our shoulders for a moment that mantle of allegory which none but Bunyan could wear long and successfully, we should represent Reason and Faith as twin-born beings,--the one, in form and features the image of manly beauty,--the other, of feminine grace and gentleness; but to each of whom, alas! was allotted a sad privation. While the bright eyes of Reason are full of piercing and restless intelligence, his ear is closed to sound; and while Faith has an ear of exquisite delicacy, on her sightless orbs, as she lifts them towards heaven, the sunbeam plays in vain. Hand in hand the brother and sister, in all mutual love, pursue their way, through a world on which, like ours, day breaks and night falls alternate; by day the eyes of Reason are the guide of Faith, and by night the ear of Faith is the guide of Reason. As is wont with those who labour under these privations respectively Reason is apt to be eager, impetuous, impatient of that instruction which his infirmity will not permit him readily to apprehend; while Faith, gentle and docile, is ever willing to listen to the voice by which alone truth and wisdom can effectually reach her. It has been shown by Butler in the fourth and fifth chapters (Part I.) of his great work, that the entire constitution and condition of man, viewed in relation to the present world alone, and consequently all the analogies derived from that fact in relation to a future world, suggest the conclusion that we are here the subjects of a probation discipline, or in a course of education for another state of existence. But it has not, perhaps, been sufficiently insisted on, that if in the actual course of that education, of which enlightened obedience to the 'law of virtue,' as Butler expresses it, or, which is the same thing, to the dictates of supreme wisdom and goodness, is the great end, we give an unchecked ascendency to either Reason or Faith, we vitiate the whole process. The chief instrument by which that process is carried on is not Reason alone, or Faith alone, but their well-balanced and reciprocal interaction. It is a system of alternate checks and limitations, in which Reason does not supersede Faith, nor Faith encroach on Reason. But our meaning will be more evident when we have made one or two remarks on what are conceived to be their respective provinces. In the domain of Reason men generally include, 1st, what are called 'intuitions,' 2d, 'necessary deductions' from them; and 3d, deductions from their own direct 'experience; while in the domain of Faith are ranked all truths and propositions which are received, not without reasons indeed, but for reasons underived from the intrinsic evidence (whether intuitive or deductive, or from our own experience) of propositions themselves;--for reasons (such as credible testimony, for example,) extrinsic to the proper meaning and significance of such propositions: although such reasons, by accumulation and convergency, may be capable of subduing the force of any difficulties or improbabilities, which cannot be demonstrated to involve absolute contradictions.* ____ * Of the first kind of truths, or those received by intuition, we have examples in what are called 'self-evident axioms,' and 'fundamental laws' or 'conditions of thought,' which no wise man has ever attempted to prove. Of the second, we have examples in the whole fabric of mathematical science, reared from its basis of axioms and definitions, as well as in every other necessary deduction from admitted premises. The third virtually includes any conclusion in science based on direct experiment, or observation; though the belief of the truth even of Newton's system of the world, when received as Locke says he received and as the generality of men receive it,--without being able to follow the steps by which the great geometer proves his conclusions,--may be represented rather as an act of faith rather than an act of Reason; as much so as a belief in the truth of Christianity, founded on its historic and other evidences. The greater part of man's knowledge, indeed, even of science,--even the greater part of a scientific man's knowledge of science, based as it is on testimony alone (and which so often compels him to renounce to-day what he thought certain yesterday),--may be not unjustly considered as more allied to Faith than Reason. It may be said, perhaps, that the above classification of the truths received by Reason and Faith respectively is arbitrary; that even as to some of their alleged sources, they are not always clearly distinguishable; that the evidence of experience may in some sort be reduced to testimony,--that of sense, and testimony reduced to experience,--that of human veracity under given circumstances; both being founded upon the observed uniformity of certain phenomena under similar conditions. We admit the truth of this; and we admit it the more willingly, as it shows that so inextricably intertwined are the roots both of Reason and Faith in our nature, that no definitions that can be framed will completely separate them; none that will not involve many phenomena which may be said to fall under the dominion of one as much as the other. We have been content, for our practical purpose, without any too subtle refinement, to take the line of demarcation which is, perhaps, as obvious as any, and as generally recognised. Few would say that a generalised inference from direct experience was not matter of reason rather than of faith; though an act of faith is involved in the process; and few would not call confidence in testimony where probabilities were nearly balanced, by the name of faith rather than reason, though an act of reason is involved in that process. We are much more anxious to show their general involution with one another than the points of discrimination between them. ____ In receiving important doctrines on the strength of such evidence, and in holding to them against the perplexities they involve, or, what is harder still, against the prejudices they oppose, every exercise of an intelligent faith will, on analysis, be found to consist; its only necessary limit will be proven contradictions in the propositions submitted to it; for, then, no evidence can justify belief, or even render it possible. But no other difficulties, however, great, will justify unbelief, where man has all that he can justly demand,--evidence such in its nature as he can deal with, and on which he is accustomed to act in his most important affairs in this world (thus admitting its validity), and such in amount as to render it more likely that the doctrines it substantiates are true, than, from mere ignorance of the mode in which these difficulties can be solved, he can infer them to be false. 'Probabilities,' says Bishop Bulter, 'are to us the very guide to life; and when the probabilities arise out of evidence which we are competent to pronounce, and the improbabilities merely from our surmises, where we have no evidence to deal with, and perhaps, from the limitation of our capacities, could not deal with it, if we had it, it is not difficult to see what course practical wisdom tells man he ought to pursue; and which he always does pursue, whatever difficulties beset him,--in all cases except one! Such is the strict union--that mutual dependence of Reason and Faith--which would seem to be the great law under which the moral school in which we are being educated is conducted. This law is equally, or almost equally, its characteristic, Whether we regard man simply in his present condition, or in his present in relation to his future condition,--as an inhabitant only of this world, or a candidate for another; and to this law, by a series of analogies as striking as any of those which Butler has pointed out (and on which we heartily wish his comprehensive genius had expended a chapter or two), Christianity, in the demands it makes on both principles conjointly, is evidently adapted. Men often speak, indeed, as if the exercise of faith was excluded from their condition as inhabitants of the present world. But it requires but a very slight consideration to show that the boasted prerogative of reason is here also that of a limited monarch; and that its attempts to make itself absolute can only end in its own dethronement, and, after successive revolutions, in all the anarchy of absolute pyrrhonism. For in the intellectual and moral education of man, considered merely as a citizen of the present world, we see the constant and inseparable union of the two principles, and provision made for their perpetual exercise. He cannot advance a step, indeed without both. We see faith demanded not only amidst the dependence and ignorance in which childhood and youth are passed; not only in the whole process by which we acquire the imperfect knowledge which is to fit us for being men; but to the very last we may be truly said to believe far more than we know. 'Indeed,' said Butler, 'the unsatisfactory nature of the evidence with which we are obliged to take up in the daily course of life, is scarce to be expected.' Nay, in an intelligible sense, even the 'primary truths,' or 'first principles,' or 'fundamental laws of thought,' or 'self-evident maxims,' or 'intuitions,' or by whatever other names philosophers have been pleased to designate them, which, in a special sense, are the very province of reason, as contra-distinguished from 'reasoning' or logical deduction, may be said almost as truly to depend on faith as on reason for their reception.* For the only ground for believing them true is that man cannot help so believing them! The same may be said of that great fact, without which the whole world would be at a stand-still--a belief in the uniformity of the phenomena of external nature; that the same sun, for example, which rose yesterday and to-day, will rise again tomorrow. That this cannot be demonstrated, is admitted on all hands; and that it is not absolutely proved from experience is evident, both from the fact that the uniformity supposed is only accepted as partially and transiently true; the great bulk of mankind, even while they so confidently act upon that uniformity, rejecting the idea of its being an eternal uniformity. Every theist believes that the order of the universe once began to be; and every Christian and most other men, believe that it will also one day cease to be. ____ * Common language seems to indicate this: Since we call that disposition of mind which leads some men to deny the above fundamental truths (or affect to deny them), not by a word which indicates the opposite of reason, but the opposite of faith,--Scepticism, Unbelief, Incredulity. ____ But perhaps the most striking example of the helplessness to which man is soon reduced if he relies upon his reason alone, is The spectacle of the issue of his investigations into that which one would imagine he must know most intimately, if he knows anything; and that is, his own nature--his own mind. There is something, to one who reflects long enough upon it, inexpressibly whimsical in the questions which the mind is for ever putting to itself respecting itself; and to which the said mind returns from its dark caverns only an echo. We are apt, when we speculate about the mind, to forget for the moment, that it is at once the querist and the oracle: and to regard it as something out of itself, like a mineral in the hands of the analytic chemist. We cannot fully enter into the absurdities of its condition, except by remembering that it is our own wise selves who so grotesquely bewilder us. The mind, on such occasions, takes itself (if we may so speak) into its own hands, turns itself about itself, listens to the echo of its own voice, and is obliged, after all, to lay itself down again with a very puzzled expression--and acknowledge that of its very self, itself knows little or nothing! 'I am material,' exclaims one of those whimsical beings, to whom the heaven-descended 'Know thyself' would seem to have been ironically addressed. 'No!--immaterial,' says another. 'I am both material and immaterial,' exclaims, perhaps, the very same mind at different times. 'Thought itself may be matter modified,' says one. 'Rather,' says another of the same perplexed species, 'matter is thought modified; for what you call matter is but a phenomenon.' But are independent and totally distinct substances, mysteriously, inexplicably conjoined,' says a third. 'How they are conjoined we know no more than the dead. Not so much, perhaps.' 'Do I ever cease to think,' says the mind to itself, 'even in sleep? Is not my essence thought?' 'You ought to know your own essence best,' all creation will reply. 'I am confident,' says one, 'that I never do cease to think,--not even in the soundest sleep.' 'You do, for a long time, every night of your life,' exclaims another, equally confident and equally ignorant. 'Where do I exist?' it goes on. 'Am I in the brain? Am I in the whole body? 'Am I anywhere? Am I nowhere?' 'I cannot have any local existence, for I know I am immaterial,' says one. 'I have a local existence, because I am material,' says another. 'I have a local existence, though I am not material,' says a third. 'Are my habitual actions voluntary,' it exclaims, 'however rapid they become; though I am unconscious of these volitions when they have attained a certain rapidity; or do I become a mere automaton as respects such actions? and therefore an automaton nine times out of ten, when I act at all?' To this query two opposite answers are given by different minds; and by others, perhaps wiser, none at all; while, often, opposite answers are given by the same mind at different times. In like manner has every action, every operation, every emotion of the mind been made the subject of endless doubt and disputation. Surely if, as Soame Jenyns imagined, the infirmities of man, and even graver evils, were permitted in order to afford amusement to superior intelligences, and make the angels laugh, few things could afford them better sport than the perplexities of this child of clay engaged in the study of himself. 'Alas,' exclaims at last the baffled spirit of this babe in intellect, as he surveys his shattered toys--his broken theories of metaphysics, 'I know that I am; but what I am--where I am--even how I act--not only what is my essence, but what even my mode of operation,--of all this I know nothing; and, boast of reason as I may, all that I think on these points is matter of opinion--or is matter of faith!' He resembles, in fact, nothing so much as a kitten first introduced to its own image in a mirror: she runs to the back of it, she leaps over it, she turns and twists, and jumps and frisks, in all directions, in the vain attempt to reach the fair illusion; and, at length, turns away in weariness from that incomprehensible enigma--the image of herself. One would imagine--perhaps not untruly--that the Divine Creator had subjected us to these difficulties--and especially that incomprehensible trilemma,--that there is an union and interaction of two totally distinct substances, or that matter is but thought, or that thought is but matter,--one of which must be true, and all of which approach as near to the mutual contradictions as can well be conceived,--for the very purpose of rebuking the presumption of man, and of teaching him humility; that He had left these obscurities at the very threshold--nay, within the very mansion of the mind itself,--for the express purpose of deterring man from playing the dogmatising fool when he looked abroad. Yet, in spite of his raggedness and poverty at home, no sooner does man look out of his dusky dwelling, than, like Goldsmith's little Beau, who, in his garret up five pair of stairs, boasts of his friendship with lords, he is apt to assume airs of magnificence, and, glancing at the infinite through his little eye-glass, to affect an intimate acquaintance with the most respectable secrets of the universe! It is undeniable, then, that the perplexities which uniformly puzzle man in the physical world, and even in the little world of his own mind, when he passes a certain limit, are just as unmanageable as those found in the moral constitution and government of the universe, or in the disclosures of the volume Revelation. In both we find abundance of inexplicable difficulties sometimes arising from our absolute ignorance, and perhaps quite as often from our partial knowledge. These difficulties are probably left on the pages of both volumes for some of the same reasons; many of them, it may be, because even the commentary of the Creator himself could not render them plain to finite understanding, though a necessary and salutary exercise of our humility may be involved in their reception; others, if not purely (which seems not probable) yet partly for the sake of exercising and training that humility, as an essential part of the education of a child; others, surmountable, indeed, in the progress of knowledge and by prolonged effort of the human intellect, may be designed to stimulate that intellect to strenuous action and healthy effort--as well as to supply, in their solution, as time rolls on, an ever-accumulating mass of proofs of the profundity of the wisdom which has so far anticipated all the wisdom of man; and of the divine origin of both the great books which he is privileged to study as a pupil, and even to illustrate as a commentator,--but the text of which he cannot alter. But, for submitting to us many profound and insoluble problems, the second of the above reasons--the training of the intellect and heart of man to submission to the Supreme Intelligence alone be sufficient. For it; as is indicated by every thing in human nature, and by the representations of Scripture, which are in analogy with both, the present world is but the school of man in this the childhood of his being, to prepare him for the enjoyment of an immortal manhood in another, everything might be expected to be subordinated to this great end; and as the end of that education, can be no other than an enlightened obedience to God, the harmonious and concurrent exercise of reason and faith becomes absolutely necessary--not of reason to the exclusion of faith, for otherwise there would be no adequate test of man's docility and submission; nor of a faith that would assert itself, not only independent of reason, but in contradiction to it,--which would not be what God requires, and what alone can quadrate with that intelligent nature He has impressed on His offspring--a reasonable obedience. Implicit obedience, then, to the dictates of an all-perfect wisdom, exercised amidst many difficulties and perplexities, as so many tests of sincerity, and yet sustained by evidences which justify the conclusions which involve them, would seem to be the great object of man's moral education here; and to justify both the partial evidence addressed to his reason, and the abundant difficulties which it leaves to his faith. 'The evidence of religion,' says Butler, 'is fully sufficient for all the purposes of probation, how far soever it is from being satisfactory as to the purposes of curiosity, or any other: and, indeed, it answers the purposes of the former in several respects which it would not do if it were as over-bearing as is required.'* Or as Pascal beautifully puts it:--'There is light enough for those whose sincere wish is to see,--and darkness enough to confound those of an opposite disposition.'+ ____ * Analogy, part 2. chap. viii. + Pensees. Faugere's edition, tom. ii. p. 151. The views here developed will be found an expansion of some brief hints at the close of the article on Pascal's 'Life and Genius' (Ed. Review, Jan. 1847), though our space then prevented us from more than touching these topics. We may add that we gladly take this opportunity of pointing the attention of our readers to a tract of Archbishop Whately's, entitled 'The example of children as proposed to Christians,' which his Grace, having been struck with a coincidence between some of the thoughts in the tract and those expressed in the 'Review,' did us the favour to transmit to us. Had we seen the tract before, we should have been glad to illustrate and confirm our own views by those of this highly gifted prelate. We earnestly recommend the tract in question (as well as the whole of the remarkable volume in which it is now incorporated, 'Essays on some of the Peculiarities of the Christian Religion') to the perusal of our readers, and at the same time venture to express our conviction (having been led by the circumstances above mentioned to a fuller acquaintance with his Grace's theological writings than we had previously possessed) that, though this lucid and eloquent writer may, for obvious reasons, be most widely known by his 'Logic and 'Rhetoric,' the time will come when his Theological works will be, if not more widely read, still more highly prized. To great powers of argument and illustration, and delightful transparency of diction and style, he adds a higher quality still--and a very rare quality it is--an evident and intense honesty of purpose, an absorbing desire to arrive at the exact truth, and to state it with perfect fairness and with the just limitations. Without pretending to agree with all that Archbishop Whately has written on the subject of theology (though be carries his readers with him as frequently as any writer with whom we are acquainted) we may remark that in relation to that whole class of subjects, to which the present essay has reference, we know of no writer of the present day whose contributions are more numerous or more valuable. The highly ingenious ironical brochure, entitled 'Historic Doubts relative to Napoleon Buonaparte;' the Essays above mentioned, 'On some of the Peculiarities of the Christian Religion;' those 'On some of the Dangers to Christian Faith,' and on the 'Errors of Romanism;' the work on the 'Kingdom of Christ,' not to mention others, are well worthy of universal perusal. They abound in views both original and just, stated with all the author's aptness of illustration and transparency of language. We may remark, too, that in many of his occasional sermons, he has incidentally added many most beautiful fragments to that ever accumulating mass of internal evidence which the Scriptures themselves supply in their very structure, and which is evolved by diligent investigation of the relation and coherence of one part of them with another. We are also rejoiced to see that a small and unpretending, but very powerful, little tract, by the same writer, entitled 'Introductory Lessons on Christian Evidences.' has passed through many editions, has been translated into most of the European languages, and, amongst the rest, very recently into German, with an appropriate preface, by professor Abeltzhauser, of the University of Dublin. It shows to demonstration that as much of the evidence of Christianity as is necessary for conviction may be made perfectly clear to the meanest capacity' and that, in spite of the assertions of Rome and of Oxford to the contrary, the apostolic injunction to every Christian to be ready to render a reason 'for the hope that is in him,'--somewhat better than that no reason of the Hindoo or the Hottentot, that he believes what he is told, without any reason except that he is told it,--is an injunction possible to obey. ____ As He 'who spake as never man spake' is pleased often to illustrate the conduct of the Father of Spirits to his intelligent offspring by a reference to the conduct which flows from the relations of the human parent to his children, so the present subject admits of similar illustration. What God does with us in that process of moral education to which we have just adverted, is exactly what every wise parent endeavours to do with his children,--though by methods, as we may well judge, proportionably less perfect. Man too instinctively, or by reflection, adapts himself to the nature of his children; and seeing that only so far as it is justly trained can they be happy, makes the harmonious and concurrent development of their reason and their faith his object; he too endeavours to teach them that without which they cannot be happy,--obedience, but a reasonable obedience He gives them, in his general procedure and conduct, sufficient proof of his superior knowledge, superior wisdom, and unchanging love; and secure in the general effect of this, he leaves them to receive by faith many things which he cannot explain to them if he would, till they get older; many things which he can only partially explain; and others which he might more perfectly explain, but will not, partly as a test of their docility and partly to invite and necessitate the healthy and energetic exercise of their reason in finding out the explanation for themselves. Confiding in the same general effect of his procedure and conduct, he does not hesitate, when the foresight of their ultimate welfare justifies it, to draw still more largely on their faith, in acts of apparent harshness and severity. Time, he knows, will show, though perhaps not till his yearning heart has ceased to beat for their welfare, that all that all he did, he did in love. He knows, too, that if his lessons are taken aright, and his children become the good and happy men he wishes them to be, they will say, as they visit his sepulchre, and recall with sorrow the once unappreciated love which animated him,--and perhaps with a sorrow, deeper still, remember the transient resentments caused by a solitary severity: 'He was indeed a friend; he corrected us not for his pleasure, but for our profit; and what we once thought was caprice or passion, we now know was love.' These analogies afford a true, though most imperfect, representation of the moral discipline to which Supreme Wisdom is subjecting us; and as we are accustomed to despair of any child with whom parental experience and authority go for nothing, unless he can fully understand the intrinsic reasons for every special act of duty which that experience and authority dictate; as we are sure that he who has not learned to obey when young will never, when of age, know how to govern either himself or others: so a singular conduct in all the children of dust towards the Father of Spirits justifies a still more gloomy augury; inasmuch as the difference between the knowledge of man and the ignorance of a child, absolutely vanishes, in comparison with that interval which must ever subsist between the knowledge of the Eternal and the ignorance of man. The remarks that have been made are not uncalled for in the present day. For unfortunately, it is now easy to detect in many classes of minds a tendency to divorce Reason from Faith, or Faith from reason; and to proclaim that 'what God hath joined together' shall henceforth exist in alienation. We see this tendency manifested in relation both to Natural Theology, and to Revealed Religion. The old conflict between the claims of these two guiding principles of man (in no age wholly suppressed) is visibly renewed in our day. In relation to Christianity especially, there are large classes amongst us who press the claims of faith so far, that it would become, if they had their will, an utterly unreasonable faith; some of whom do not scruple to speak slightingly of the evidences which substantiate Christianity; to decry and depreciate the study of them; to pronounce that study unnecessary; and even in many cases to insinuate their insufficiency. They are loud in the mean time in extolling a faith which, as Whately truly observes, is no whit better than the faith of a heathen; who has no other or better reason to offer for his religion than that his father told him it was true! But this plainly is not the intelligent faith which, as we have seen, is everywhere inculcated and applauded in the Scriptures; it is not 'that faith by which Christianity, appealing In the midst of a multitude of such traditional religions, to palpable evidence addressed to man's senses and understandings (in a way no other religion ever did) everywhere destroyed the systems for which their votaries could only say that their fathers told them they were true. And yet this blind belief in such tradition, many advocates of Christianity would now enjoin us to imitate! It might have occurred to them, one would think, that, on their principles, Christianity never could have succeeded; for every mind must have been hopelessly pre-occupied against all examination of its claims. It is, indeed, incomparably better that a man should be a sincere Christian even by an utterly unreasoning and passive faith (if that be possible), than no Christian at all; but at the best, such a man is a possessor of the truth only by accident: he ought to have, and, if he be a sincere disciple of truth, will seek, some more solid grounds for holding it. But it is but too obvious, we fear, that the disposition to enjoin this obsequious mood of mind is prompted by a strong desire to revive the ancient empire of priestcraft and the pretensions of ecclesiastical despotism; to secure readmission to the human mind of extravagant and preposterous claims, which their advocates are sadly conscious rest on no solid foundation. They feel that reason is not with them, it must be against them: and reason therefore they are determined to exclude. But the experience of the present 'developments' of Oxford teaching may serve to show us how infinitely perilous is this course; and how fearfully, both outraged reason and outraged faith will avenge the wrongs done them by their alienation and disjunction. Those results, indeed, we predicted in 1843; before a single leader of the Oxford school had gone over to Rome, and before any tendencies to the opposite extreme of Scepticism had manifested themselves. We then affirmed that, on the one hand, those who were contending for the corruptions of the fourth century could not possibly find footing there, but must inevitably seek their ultimate resting place in Rome--a prediction which has been too amply fulfilled; and that, on the other, the extravagant pretensions put forth on behalf of an uninquiring faith, and the desperate assertion that the 'evidence for Christianity' was no stronger than that for 'Church Principles,' must, by reaction, lead on to an outbreak of infidelity. That prophecy, too, has been to the letter accomplished. We then said,-- "We have seen it recently asserted by some of the Oxford school that there is as much reason for rejecting the most essential doctrines of Christianity--nay Christianity itself--as for rejecting their "church principles." That, in short, we have as much reason for being infidels as for rejecting the doctrine of Apostolical succession! What other effect such reasoning can have than that of compelling men to believe that there is nothing between infidelity and popery, and of urging them to make a selection between the two, we know not .... Indeed, we fully expect that, as a reaction of the present extravagancies, of the revival of obsolete superstition, we shall have ere long to fight over again the battle with a modified form of infidelity, as now with a modified form of popery. Thus, probably, for some time to come, will the human mind continue to oscillate between the extremes of error; but with a diminished are at each vibration; until truth shall at last prevail, and compel it to repose in the centre."* ____ * Oxford Tract School, Ed. Rev., April, 1843. ____ The offensive displays of self-sufficiency and flippancy, of ignorance and presumption, found in the productions of the apostles of the new infidelity of Oxford, (of which we shall have a few words to say by-and-by) are the natural and instructive, though most painful, result of attempting to give predominance to one principle of our nature, where two or more are designed reciprocally to guard and check each other; and such results must ever follow such attempts. The excellence of man--so complexly constituted is his nature--must consist in the harmonious action and proper balance of all the constituents of that nature; the equilibrium he sighs for must be the result of the combined action of forces operating in different directions; of his reason, his faith, his appetites, his affections, his emotions; when these operate each in due proportion, then, and then only, can he be at rest. It may, indeed, transcend any calculus of man to estimate exactly the several elements in this complicated polygon of forces; but we are at least sure that, if any one principle be so developed as to supersede another, no safe equipoise will be attained. We all know familiarly enough that this is the case when the affections or the appetites are more powerful than the reason and the conscience, instead of being in subjection to them: but it is not less the case, though the result is not so palpable, when reason and faith either exclude one another, or trench on each other's domain; when one is pampered and the other starved.* Hence the perils attendant upon their attempted separation, and the ruin which results from their actual alienation and hostility. There is no depth of dreary superstition into which men may not sink in the one case, and no extravagance of ignorant presumption to which they may not soar in the other. It is only by the mutual and alternate action of these different forces that man can safely navigate his little bark through the narrow straits and by the dangerous rocks which impede his course; and if Faith spread not the sail to the breeze, or if Reason desert the helm, we are in equal peril. ____ * It has been our lot to meet with disciples of the Oxford Tract School, who have, by a fatal indulgence of an appetite of belief; brought themselves to believe any mediaeval miracle, nay, any ghost story, without examination, saying, with a solemn face, 'It is better to believe that to reason.' They believe as they will to believe; and thus is reason avenged. Reason, similarly indulged, believes, with Mr. Foxton and Mr. Froude, that a miracle is even an impossibility; and this is the 'Nemesis' of faith. ____ If it be said that this is a disconsolate and dreary doctrine; that man seeks and needs a simpler navigation than this troublesome and intricate course, by star and chart, compass and lead line; and that this responsibility, of ever 'Sounding on his dim and perilous way,' is too grave for so feeble a nature; we answer that such is his actual condition. This is a plain matter of fact which cannot be denied. The various principles of his constitution, and his position in relation to the external world, obviously and absolutely subject him to this very responsibility throughout his whole course in this life. It is never remitted or abated: resolves are necessitated upon imperfect evidence; and action imperatively demanded amidst doubts and difficulties in which reason is not satisfied, and faith is required. To argue therefore, that God cannot have left man to such uncertainty, is to argue, as the pertinacious lawyer did, who, on seeing a man in the stocks, asked him what he was there for; and on being told, said, 'They cannot put you there for that.' 'But I am here,' was the laconic answer. The analogy, then, of man's whole condition in this life might lead us to expect the same system of procedure throughout; that the evidence which substantiates religious truth, and claims religious action, would involve this responsibility as well as that which substantiates other kinds of truth, and demands other kinds of action. And after all, what else, in either case, could answer the purpose, if (as already said) this world be the school of training of man's moral nature? How else could the discipline of his faculties, the exercise of patience, humility, and fortitude, be secured? How, except amidst a state of things less than certainty--whether under the form of that passive faith which mimics the possession of absolute certainty, or absolute certainty itself--could man's nature be trained to combined self-reliance and self-distrust, circumspection and resolution, and, above all, to confidence in God? Man cannot be nursed and dandled into the manhood of his nature, by that unthinking faith which leaves no doubts to be felt, and no objections to be weighed; Nor can his docility ever be tested, if he is never called upon to believe any thing which it would not be an absurdity and contradiction to deny. This species of responsibility, then, not only cannot be dispensed with, but is absolutely necessary; and, consequently, however desirable it may appear that we should have furnished to us that short path to certainty which a pretended infallibility* promises to man, or that equally short path which leads to the same termination, by telling us that we are to believe nothing which we cannot demonstrate to be true, or which, a priori, we may presume to be false, must be a path which leads astray. In the one case, how can the 'reasonable service' which Scripture demands--the enlightened love and conscientious investigation of truth--its reception, not without doubts, but against doubts--how could all this co-exist with a faith which presents the whole sum of religion in the formulary, 'I am to believe without a doubt, and perform without hesitation. whatever my guide, Parson A. tells me?' Not that, even in that case (as has often been shown), the man would be relieved form the necessity of absolutely depending on the dreaded exercise of his private judgment; for he must at least have exercised it once for all (unless each man is to remit his religion wholly to the accident of his birth), and that on two of the most arduous of all questions: first, which of several churches, pretending to infallibility, is truly infallible? And next, whether the man may infallibly regard his worthy Parson A. as an infallible expounder of the infallibility. But, supposing this stupendous difficulty surmounted, though then, it is true, all may seem genuine faith, in reality there is none: where absolute infallibility is supposed to have been attained (even though erroneously), faith, in strict propriety--certainly that faith which is alone of any value as an instrument of man's moral training--which recognises and intelligently struggles with objections and difficulties--is impossible. Men may be said, in such case, to know, but can hardly be said to believe. Before Columbus had seen America, he believed in its existence; but when he had seen it, his faith became knowledge. Equally impossible, and for the same reason, is any place for faith on the opposite hypothesis; for if man is to believe nothing but what his reason can comprehend, and to act only upon evidence which amounts to certainly, the same paradox is true; for when there is no reason to doubt, there can be none to believe. Faith ever stands between conflicting probabilities; but her position is (if we may use the metaphor) the centre of gravity between them, and will be proportionally nearer the greater mass. ____ * See Archbishop Whately's admirable discourse, entitled 'The Search after Infallibility, considered in reference to the Danger of Religious Errors arising within the Church, in the primitive as well as in all later Ages.' He here makes excellent use of the fruitful principle of Butler's great work, by showing that, however desirable, a priori, an infallible guide would seem to fallible man, God in fact has every where denied it; and that, in denying it in relation to religion, he has acted only as he always acts. ____ In the mean time, that arduous responsibility which attaches to man, and which is obviated neither by an implicit faith in a human infallibility, nor an exclusive reference of that faith to cases in which reason is synonymous with demonstration, that is, to cases which leave no room for it, is at once relieved, and effectually relieved, by the maxim--the key-stone of all ethical truth--that only voluntary error condemns us;--that all we are really responsible for, is a faithful, honest, patient, investigation and weighing of evidence, as far as our abilities and opportunities admit, and a conscientious pursuit of what we honestly deem truth, wherever it may lead us. We concede that a really dispassionate and patient conduct in this respect is what man is too ready to assume he has practised,--and this fallacy cannot be too sedulously guarded against. But that guilty liability to selfdeception, does not militate against the truth of the representation now made. It is his duty to see that he does not abuse the maxim,--that he does not rashly acquiesce in any conclusion that he wishes to be true, or which he is too lazy to examine. If all possible diligence and honesty have been exerted in the search, the statement of Chillingworth, bold as it is, we should not hesitate to adopt, in all the rigour of his own language. It is to the effect, that if 'in him alone there were a confluence of all the errors which have befallen the sincere professors of Christianity, he should not be so much afraid of them, as to ask God's pardon for them;' absolutely involuntary error being justly regarded by him as blameless. On the other hand, we firmly believe, from the natural relations of truth with the constitution of the mind of man, that, with the exception of a very few cases of obliquity of intellect, which may safely be left to the merciful interpretations and apologies of Him who created such intellects, those who thus honestly and industriously 'seek' shall 'find;'--not all truth, indeed, but enough to secure their safety; and that whatever remaining errors may infest and disfigure the truth they have attained, they shall not be imputed to them for sin. According to the image which apostolic eloquence has employed, the Baser materials which unavoidable haste, prejudice, and ignorance may have incorporated with the gold of the edifice, will be consumed by the fire which 'will try every man's work of what sort it is,' but he himself will be saved amidst those purifying flames. Like the bark which contained the Apostle and the fortunes of the Gospel, the frail vessel may go to pieces on the rocks, 'but by boat or plank' the voyager himself shall 'get safe to shore.' It is amply sufficient, then, to lighten our responsibility, that we are answerable only for our honest endeavours to discover and to practise the truth; and, in fact, the responsibility is principally felt to be irksome, and man is so prompt by devices of his own, to release himself from it, not on account of any intrinsic difficulty which remains after the above limitations are admitted, but because he wishes to be exempt from that very necessity of patient and honest investigation. It is not so much the difficulty of finding, as the trouble of seeking the truth, from which he shrinks; a necessity, however, from which, as it is an essential instrument of his moral education and discipline, he can never be released. If the previous representations be true, the conditions of that intelligent faith which God requires from his intelligent offspring, may be fairly inferred to be such as we have already stated;--that the evidence for the truths we are to believe shall be, first, such as our faculties are competent to appreciate, and against which, therefore, the mere negative argument arising from our ignorance of the true solution of such difficulties, as are, perhaps, insoluble because we are finite, can be no reply; and, secondly, such an amount of this evidence as shall fairly overbalance all the objections which we can appreciate. This is the condition to which God has obviously subjected us as inhabitants of this world; and it is on such evidence we are here perpetually acting. We now believe a thousand things we cannot fully comprehend. We may not see the intrinsic evidence of their truth, but their extrinsic evidence is sufficient to induce us unhesitatingly to believe, and to act upon them. When that evidence is sufficient in amount, we allow it to overbear all the individual difficulties and perplexities which hang round the truths to which it is applied, unless, indeed, such difficulties can be proved to involve absolute contradictions; for these, of course, no evidence can substantiate. For example, in a thousand cases, a certain combination of merely circumstantial evidence in favour of a certain judicial decision, is familiarly allowed to vanquish all apparent discrepancy on particular and subordinate points;--the want of concurrence in the evidence of the witnesses on such points shall not cause a shadow of a doubt as to the conclusion. For we feel that it is far more improbable that the conclusion should be untrue, than that the difficulty we cannot solve is truly incapable of a solution; and when the evidence reaches this point the objection no longer troubles us. It is the same with historic investigations. There are ten thousand facts in history which no one doubts, though the narrators of them may materially vary in their version, and though some of the circumstances alleged may be in appearance inexplicable, but the last thing a man would think of doing, in such cases, would be to neglect the preponderant evidence on account of the residuum of insoluble objections. He does not, in short, allow his ignorance to control his knowledge, nor the evidence which he has not got to destroy what he has; and the less so, that experience has taught him that in many cases such apparent difficulties have been cleared up, in the course of time, and by the progress of knowledge, and proved to be contradictions in appearance only. It is the same with the conclusions of natural philosophy, when well proved by experiment, however unaccountable for awhile may be the discrepancy with apparently opposing phenomena. No one disbelieves the Copernican theory now; though thousands did for awhile, on what they believed the irrefragable evidence of their senses. Now, let us only suppose the Copernican theory not to have been discovered by human reason, but made known by revelation, and its reception enjoined on faith, leaving the apparent inconsistency with the evidence of the senses just as it was. Thousands, no doubt, would have said, that no such evidence could justify them in disbelieving their own eyes, and that such an insoluble objection was sufficient to overturn the evidence. Yet we now see, in point of fact, that it is not only possible, but true, that the objection was apparent only, and admits of a complete solution. Thousands accordingly receive philosophy--this very philosophy--on testimony which apparently contradicts their senses, without even yet knowing more of it than if it were revealed from heaven. This gives too much reason to suspect, that in other and higher cases, the will has much to do with human scepticism. Nor do we well know what thousands who neglect religion on account of the alleged uncertainty of its evidence could reply, if God were to say to them, 'And yet on such evidence, and that far inferior in degree, you have never hesitated to act, when your own temporal interests were concerned. You never feared to commit the bark of your worldly fortunes to that fluctuating element. In many cases you believed on the testimony of others what seemed even to contradict your own senses. Why were you so much more scrupulous in relation to ME?' The above examples are fair illustrations, we venture to think, of the conditions under which we are required to believe the far higher truths, attended no doubt with great difficulties, which are authenticated in the pages of the two volumes (Nature and Scripture) which God has put into our hands to study; of the conditions to which He subjects us in training us for a future state, and developing in us the twofold perfection involved in the words 'a reasonable faith.' If the considerations just urged were duly borne in mind, we cannot help thinking that they would afford (where any modesty remained) all answer to most of those forms of unbelief which, from time to time, rise up in the world, and not least in our own day. These are usually founded on one or more supposed insoluble objections, arising out of our ignorance. The probability that they are incapable of solution is rashly assumed, and made to overbear the far stronger probability arising from the positive and appreciable evidence which substantiates the truths involved in those difficulties: a course the more unreasonable inasmuch as--first, many such difficulties might be expected; and, secondly, in analogous cases, we see that many such difficulties have in time disappeared. On the other hand, it is, no doubt much more easy to insist on individual objections, which no man can effectually answer, than it is to appreciate at once the total effect of many lines of argument, and many sources of evidence, all bearing on one point. That difficulty was long ago beautifully stated by Butler*, in a passage well worthy of the reader's perusal; and as Pascal had observed before him, not only is it difficult, but impossible, for the human mind to retain the impression of a large combination of evidence, even if it could for a moment fully realise the collective effect of the whole. But it cannot do even this, any more than the eye can take in at once, in mass and detail, the objects of an extensive landscape. ____ * 'The truth of our religion, like the truth of common matters, is to be judged of by all the evidence taken together. And, unless the whole series of things which may be alleged in this argument, and every particular thing in it, can reasonably be supposing to have been by accident (for here the stress of the argument of Christianity lies), then is the truth of it proved. . . . It is obvious how much advantage the nature of this evidence gives to those persons who attack Christianity, especially in conversation. For it is easy to show in a short and lively manner that such and such things are liable to objection, but impossible to show, in like manner, the united force of the whole argument in one view.'--Analogy, part II. chap. vii. ____ Let us now be permitted briefly to apply the preceding principles to two of the greatest controversies which have exercised the minds of men; that which relates to the existence of God, and that which relates to the truth of Christianity; in both of which, if we mistake not, man's position is precisely similar--placed, that is, amidst evidence abundantly sufficient to justify his reasonable faith, and yet attended with difficulties abundantly sufficient to baffle an indocile reason. Without entering into the many different sources of argument for the existence of a Supreme Intelligence, we shall only refer to that proof on which all theists, savage and civilised, in some form or other, rely--the traces of an 'eternal power and godhead' in the visible creation. The argument depends on a principle which, whatever may be its metaphysical history or origin, is one which man perpetually recognises, which every act of his own consciousness verifies, which he applies fearlessly to every phenomenon, known or unknown; and it is this,--That every effect has a cause (though he knows nothing of their connexion), and that effects which bear marks of design have a designing cause. This principle is so familiar that if he were to affect to doubt it in any practical case in human life, he would only be laughed at as a fool, or pitied as insane. The evidence, then, which substantiates the greatest and first of truths mainly depends on a principle perfectly familiar and perfectly recognised. Man can estimate the nature of that evidence; and the amount of it, in this instance, he sees to be as vast as the sum of created objects;--nay, far more, for it is as vast as the sum of their relations. So that if (as is apt to be the case) the difficulties of realising this tremendous truth are in proportion to the extent of knowledge and the powers of reflection, the evidence we can perfectly appreciate is cumulative in an equal or still higher proportion. Obvious as are the marks of design in each individual object, the sum of proof is not merely the sum of such indications, but that sum infinitely multiplied by the relations established and preserved amongst all these objects; by the adjustment which harmonises them all into one system, and impresses on all the parts of the universe a palpable order and subordination. While even in a single part of an organised being (as a hand or an eye) the traces of design are not to be mistaken, these are indefinitely multiplied by similar proofs of contrivance in the many individual organs of one such being--as of an entire animal or vegetable. These are yet to be multiplied by the harmonious relations which are established of mutual proportion and subserviency amongst all the organs of any one such being: And as many beings even of that one species or class as there are, so many multiples are there of the same proofs. Similar indications yield similar proofs of design in each individual part, and in the whole individual of all the individuals of every other class of beings; and this sum of proof is again to be multiplied by the proofs of design in the adjustment and mutual dependence and subordination of each of these classes of organised beings to every other, and to all; of the vegetable to the animal---of the lower animal to the higher. Their magnitudes, numbers, physical force, faculties, functions, duration of life, rates of multiplication and development, sources of subsistence, must all have been determined in exact ratios, and could not transgress certain limits without involving the whole universe in confusion. This amazing sum of probabilities is yet to be further augmented by the fact that all these classes of organised substances are intimately related to those great elements of the material world in which they live, to which they are adapted, and which are adapted to them; that all of them are subject to the influence of certain mighty and subtle agencies which pervade all nature,--and which are of such tremendous potency that any chance error in their proportions of activity would be sufficient to destroy all, and which yet axe exquisitely balanced and inscrutably harmonised. The proofs of design, arising from the relations thus maintained between all the parts, from the most minute to the most vast, of our own world, are still to be further multiplied by the inconceivably momentous relations subsisting between our own and other planets and their common centre; amidst whose sublime and solemn phenomena science has most clearly discovered that everything is accurately adjusted by geometrical precision of force and movement; where the chances of error are infinite, and the proofs of intelligence, therefore, equal. These proofs of design in each fragment of the universe, and in all combined, are continually further multiplied by every fresh discovery, whether in the minute or the vast--by the microscope or the telescope; for every fresh law that is discovered, being in harmony with all that has previously been discovered, not only yields its own proof of design, but infinitely more, by all the relations in which it stands to other laws: it yields, in fact, as many as there are adjustments which have been effected between itself and all besides. Each new proof of design, therefore, is not a solitary fact; but one which entering as another element into a most complex machinery, indefinitely multiplies the combinations, in any one of which chance might have gone astray. From this infinite array of proofs of design, it seems to man's reason, in ordinary moods, stark madness to account for the phenomena of the universe upon any other supposition than that which docs account, and can alone account, for them all,--the supposition of a Presiding Intelligence, illimitable alike in power and in wisdom. The only difficulty is justly to appreciate such an argument to obtain a sufficiently vivid impression of such an accumulation of probabilities. This very difficulty, indeed, in some moods, may minister to a temporary doubt. For let us catch man in those moods,--perhaps after long meditation on the metaphysical grounds of human belief,--and he begins to doubt, with unusual modesty, whether the child of dust is warranted to conclude anything on a subject which loses itself in the infinite, and which so far transcends all his powers of apprehension; he begins half to doubt, with Hume, whether he can reason analogically from the petty specimens of human ingenuity to phenomena so vast and so unique; a misgiving which is strengthened by reflecting on all those to him incomprehensible inferences to which the admission of the argument leads him, and which seem almost to involve contradictions. Let him ponder for awhile the ideas involved in the notion of Selfsubsistence, Eternity, Creation; Power, Wisdom, and Knowledge, so unlimited as to embrace at once all things, and all their relations, actual and possible,--this 'unlimited' expanding into a dim apprehension of the 'infinite';--of infinitude of attributes, omnipresent in every point of space, and yet but one and not many infinitudes;--let him once humbly ponder such incomprehensible difficulties as these, and he will soon feel that though in the argument from design, there seemed but one vast scene of triumph for his reason, there is as large a scene of exertion left for his faith. That faith he ordinarily yields; he sees it is justified by those proofs of the great truth he can appreciate, and which he will not allow to be controlled by the difficulties his conscious feebleness cannot solve; and the rather, that he sees that if he does not accept that evidence, he has equally incomprehensible difficulties to encounter, and two or three stark contradictions into the bargain. His reason, therefore, triumphs in the proofs, and his faith triumphs over the difficulties. It is the same with the doctrine of the Divine government of the world. In ordinary states of mind man counts it an absurdity to suppose that the Deity would have created a world to abandon it; that, having employed wisdom and power so vast in its construction, he would leave it to be the sport of chance. He feels that the intuitions of right and wrong; the voice of conscience; satisfaction in well-doing; remorse for crime; the present tendency, at least, of the laws of the universe,--all point to the same conclusion, while their imperfect fulfilment equally points to a future and more accurate adjustment. Yet let the man look exclusively for awhile on the opposite side of the tapestry; let him brood over any of the facts which seem at war with the above conclusion; on some signal triumph of baseness and malignity; on oppressed virtue, on triumphant vice; on 'the wicked spreading himself like a green bay tree;' and especially on the mournfull and inscrutable mystery of the 'Origin of Evil,' and he feels that 'clouds and darkness' envelope the administration of the Moral Governor, though 'justice and judgment are the habitation of his throne.' The evidences above mentioned for the last conclusion are direct and positive, and such as man can appreciate; the difficulties spring from his limited capacity, or imperfect glimpses of a very small segment of the universal plan. Nor are those difficulties less upon the opposite hypothesis: and they are there further burdened with two or three additional absurdities. The preponderant evidence, far from removing the difficulties, scarcely touches them,--yet it is felt to be sufficient to justify faith, though most abundant faith is required still. Are the evidences, then, in behalf of Christianity less of a nature which man can appreciate? or can the difficulties involved in its reception be greater than in the preceding cases? If not, and if, moreover, while the evidence turns as before on principles with which we are familiar, the more formidable objections, as before, are such that we are not competent to decide upon their absolute insolubility, we see how man ought to act; that is, not to let his ignorance control his knowledge, but to let his reason accept the proofs which justify his faith, in accepting the difficulties. In no case is he, it appears, warranted to look for the certainty which shall exclude (whatever the triumphs of his reason) a gigantic exercise of his faith. Let us briefly consider a few of the evidences. And in order to give the statement a little novelty, we shall indicate the principal topics of evidence, not by enumerating what the advocate of Christianity believes in believing it to be true, but what the infidel must believe in believing it to be false. The a priori objection to Miracles we shall briefly touch afterwards. First, then, in relation to the Miracles of the New Testament, whether they be supposed masterly frauds on men's senses committed at the time and by the parties supposed in the records, or fictions (designed or accidental) subsequently fabricated--but still, in either case, undeniably successful and triumphant beyond all else in the history whether of fraud or fiction--the infidel must believe as follows: On the first hypothesis, he must believe that a vast number of apparent miracles--involving the most astounding phenomena--such as the instant restoration of the sick, blind, deaf, and lame, and the resurrection of the dead--performed in open day, amidst multitudes of malignant enemies--imposed alike on all, and triumphed at once over the strongest prejudices and the deepest enmity:--those who received them and those who rejected them differing only in the certainly not very trifling particular--as to whether they came from heaven or from hell. He must believe that those who were thus successful in this extraordinary conspiracy against men's senses and against common sense, were Galilaean Jews, such as all history of the period represents them; ignorant, obscure, illiterate; and, above all, previously bigoted, like all their countrymen, to the very system, of which, together with all other religions on the earth, they modestly meditated the abrogation; he must believe that, appealing to these astounding frauds in the face both of Jews and Gentiles as an open evidence of the truth of a new revelation, and demanding on the strength of them that their countrymen should surrender a religion which they acknowledged to be divine, and that all other nations should abandon their scarcely less venerable systems of superstition, they rapidly succeeded in both these very probable adventures; and in a few years, though without arms, power, wealth, or science, were to an enormous extent victorious over all prejudice, philosophy, and persecution; and in three centuries took nearly undisputed possession, amongst many nations, of the temples of the ejected deities. He must farther believe that the original performers, in these prodigious frauds on the world, acted not only without any assignable motive, but against all assignable motive; that they maintained this uniform constancy in unprofitable falsehoods, not only together, but separately, in different countries, before different tribunals, under all sorts of examinations and cross-examinations, and in defiance of the gyves, the scourge, the axe, the cross, the stake; that these whom they persuaded to join their enterprise, persisted like themselves in the same obstinate belief of the same 'cunningly devised' frauds; and though they had many accomplices in their singular conspiracy, had the equally singular fortune to free themselves and their coadjutors flout all transient weakness towards their cause and treachery towards one another; and, lastly, that these men, having, amidst all their ignorance, originality enough to invent the most pure and sublime system of morality which the world has ever listened to, had, amidst all their conscious villany, the effrontery to preach it, and, which is more extraordinary, the inconsistency to practise it!* ____ * So far as we have any knowledge from history, this must have been the case; and Gibbon fully admits and insists upon it. Indeed, no infidel hypothesis can afford to do without the virtues of the early Christians in accounting for the success of the falsehoods of Christianity. Hard alternatives of a wayward hypothesis! ____ On the second of the above-mentioned hypothesis, that these miracles were either a congeries of deeply contrived fictions, or accidental myths, subsequently invented, the infidel must believe, on the former supposition, that, though even transient success in literary forgery, when there are any prejudices to resist, is among the rarest of occurrences; yet that these forgeries--the hazardous work of many minds, making the most outrageous pretensions, and necessarily challenging the opposition of Jew and Gentile were successful beyond all imagination, over the hearts of mankind; and have continued to impose, by an exquisite appearance of artless truth, and a most elaborate mosaic of feigned events artfully cemented into the ground of true history, on the acutest minds of different races and different ages; while, on the second supposition, he must believe that accident and chance have given to these legends their exquisite appearance of historic plausibility; and on either supposition, he must believe (what is still more wonderful) that the world, while the fictions were being published, and in the known absence of the facts they asserted to be true, suffered itself to be befooled into the belief of their truth, and out of its belief of all the systems it did previously believe to be true; and that it acted thus notwithstanding persecution from without, as well as prejudice front within; that strange to say the strictest historic investigation bring this compilation of fictions or myths-even by the admission of Strauss himself--within thirty or forty years of the very time in which all the alleged wonders they relate are said to have occurred; wonders which the perverse world knew it had not seen, but which it was determined to believe in spite of evidence, prejudice, and persecution! In addition to all this, the infidel must believe that the men who were engaged in the compilation of these monstrous fictions, chose them as the vehicle of the purest morality; and, though the most pernicious deceivers of mankind were yet the most scrupulous preachers of veracity and benevolence! Surely of him, who can receive all these paradoxes--and they form but a small part of what might be mentioned--we may say, 'O infidel, great is thy Faith!' On the supposition that neither of these theories, whether of fraud or fiction, will account, if taken by itself, for the whole of the supernatural phenomena, which strew the pages of the New Testament, then the objector, who relies on both, must believe, in turn, both sets of the above paradoxes; and then, with still more reason than before, may we exclaim, 'O infidel, great is thy Faith!' Again; he must believe that till those apparent coincidences, which seem to connect Prophecy with the facts of the origin and history of Christianity,--some, embracing events too vast for hazardous speculations and others, incidents too minute for it,--are purely fortuitous; that all the cases in which the event seems to tally with the prediction, are mere chance coincidences: and he must believe this, amongst other events, of two of the most unlikely to which human sagacity was likely to pledge itself, and yet which have as undeniably occurred, (and after the predictions) as they were a priori improbable and anomalous in the world's history; the one is that the Jews should exist as a distinct nation in the very bosom of all other nations, without extinction, and without amalgamation,--other nations and even races having so readily melted away under less than half the influence which have been at work upon them*; the other, and opposite paradox,--that a religion, propagated by ignorant, obscure, and penniless vagabonds, should diffuse itself amongst the most diverse nations in spite of all opposition,--it being the rarest of phenomena to find any religion which is capable of transcending the limits of race, clime, and the scene of its historic origin; a religion which, if transplanted, will not die, a religion which is more than a local or national growth of superstition! That such a religion as Christianity should so easily break these barriers, and though supposed to be cradled in ignorance, fanaticism, and fraud, should, without force of arms, and in the face of persecution, 'ride forth conquering and to conquer,' through a long career of victories, defying the power of kings and emptying the temples of deities,--who, but an infidel, has faith enough to believe?+ ____ * The case of the Gipsies, often alleged as a parallel, is a ludicrous evasion of the argument. These few and scattered vagabonds, whose very safety has been obscurity and contempt, have never attracted towards them a thousandth part of the attention, or the hundred thousandth part of the cruelties, which have been directed against the Jews. Had it been otherwise, they would long since have melted away from every country in Europe. We repeat that the existence of a nation for 1800 years in the bosom of all nations, conquered and persecuted, yet never extinguished, and the propagation of a religion amongst different races without force, and even against it,--are both, so far as known, paradoxes in history. + 'They may say,' says Butler, 'that the conformity between the prophecies and the event is by accident; but there are many instances in which such conformity itself cannot be denied.' His whole remarks on the subject, and especially those on the impression to be derived from the multitude of apparent coincidences, in a long series of prophecies, some vast, some minute; and the improbability of their all being accidental are worthy of his comprehensive genius. It is on the effect of the whole, not on single coincidences, that the argument depends. ____ Once more then; if, from the external evidences of this religion, we pass to those which the only records by which we know any thing of its nature and origin supplies, the infidel must believe, amongst other paradoxes, that it is probable that a knot of obscure and despised plebeians--regarded as the scum of a nation which was itself regarded as the scum of all other nations--originated the purest, most elevated, and most influential theory of ethics the world has ever seen; that a system of sublimest truth, expressed with unparalleled simplicity, sprang from ignorance; that precepts enjoining the most refined sanctity were inculcated by imposture; that the first injunctions to universal love broke from the lips of bigotry! He must further believe that these men exemplified the ideal perfection of that beautiful system in the most unique, original, and faultless picture of virtue ever conceived--a picture which has extorted the admiration even of those who could not believe it to be a portrait, and who have yet confessed themselves unable to account for it except as such.* He must believe, too, that these ignorant and fraudulent Galileans voluntarily aggravated the difficulty of their task, by exhibiting their proposed ideal, not by bare enumeration and description of qualities, but by the most arduous of all methods of representation--that of dramatic action; and, what is more, that they succeeded; that in that representation they undertook to make him act with sublime consistency in scenes of the most extraordinary character and the most touching pathos, and utter moral truth in the most exquisite fictions in which such truth was ever embodied; and that again they succeeded; that so ineffably rich in genius were these obscure wretches, that no less than four of them were found equal to this intellectual achievement; and while each has told many events, and given many traits which the others have omitted, that they have all performed their task in the same unique style of invention and the same unearthly tone of art; that one and all, while preserving each his own individuality, has, nevertheless, attained a certain majestic simplicity of style unlike any tiring else (not only in any writings of their own nation, their alleged sacred writings, and infinitely superior to any thing which their successors, Jews or Christians, though with the advantage of these models, could ever attain,) but, unlike any acknowledged human writings in the world, and possessing the singular property of being capable of ready transfusion, without the loss of a thought or a grace, into every language spoken by man: he must believe that these fabricators of fiction, in common with the many other contributors to the New Testament, most insanely added to the difficulty of their task by delivering the whole in fragments and in the most various kinds of composition,--in biography, history, travels, and familiar letters; incorporating and interfusing with the whole an amazing number of minute facts, historic allusions, and specific references to persons, places, and dates, as if for the very purpose of supplying posterity with the easy means of detecting their impositions: he must believe that, in spite of their thus encountering what Paley calls the 'danger of scattering names and circumstances in writings where nothing but truth can preserve consistency,' they so happy succeeded, that whole volumes have been employed pointing out their latent and often most recondite congruities; many of them lying so deep, and coming out after such comparison of various passages and collateral lights, that they could never have answered the purposes of fraud, even if the most prodigious genius for fraud had been equal to the fabrication; congruities which, in fact, were never suspected to exist till they were expressly elicited by the attacks of Infidelity, and were evidently never thought of by the writers; he must believe that they were profoundly sagacious enough to construct such a fabric of artful harmonies, and yet such simpletons as, by doing infinitely more than was necessary, to encounter infinite risks of detection, to no purpose; sagacious enough to out-do all that sagacity has ever done, as shown by the effects, and yet not sagacious enough to be merely specious: and finally, he must believe that these illiterate impostors had the art in all their various writings, which evidently proceed from different minds, to preserve the same inimitable marks of reality, truth, and nature in their narrations--the miraculous and the ordinary alike--and to assume and preserve, with infinite case, amidst their infinite impostures, the tone and air of undissembled earnestness.+ ____ * To Christ alone, of all the characters ever portrayed to man, belongs that assemblage of qualities which equally attract love and veneration; to him alone belong in perfection those rare traits which the Roman historian, with affectionate flattery, attributes too absolutely to the merely mortal object of his eulogy: 'Nec illi, quod est rarissimum aut facilitas auctoritatem, aut severitas amorem, deminuit.' Still more beautiful is the Apostles description of superiority to all Human failings, with ineffable pity for human sorrows: 'He can be touched with the feelings of our infirmities, though without sin.' + Was there ever in truth a man who could read the appeals of Paul to his converts, and doubt either that the letters were real or that the man was in earnest? We scarcely venture to think it. ____ If, on the other hand, he supposes that all the congruities of which we have spoken, were the effect not of fraudulent design, but of happy accident,--that they arranged themselves in spontaneous harmony--he must believe that chance has done what even the most prodigious powers of invention could not do. And lastly, he must believe that these same illiterate men, who were capable of so much, were also capable of projecting a system of doctrine singularly remote from all ordinary and previous speculation; of discerning the necessity of taking under their special patronage those passive virtues which man least loved, and found it must difficult to cultivate; and of exhibiting, in their preference of the spiritual to the ceremonial, and their treatment of many of the most delicate questions of practical ethics and casuistry, a justness and elevation of sentiment as alien as possible from the superstition and fanaticism of their predecessors who had corrupted the Law--and the superstition and fanaticism of their followers very soon corrupted the Gospel; and that they, and they alone, rose above the strong tendencies to the extravagances which had been so conspicuous during the past, and were soon to be as conspicuous in the future.--These and a thousand other paradoxes (arising out of the supposition that Christianity is the fraudulent or fictitious product of such an age, country, and, above all, such men as the problem limits us to), must the infidel receive, and receive all at once; and of him who can receive them we can but once more declare that so far 'from having no faith', he rather possesses the 'faith' which removes 'mountains!'--only it appears that his faith, like that of Rome or of Oxford, is a faith which excludes reason. On the other hand, to him who accepts Christianity, none of these paradoxes present themselves. On the supposition of the truth of the miracles and the prophecies, he does not wonder at its origin or success: and as little does he wonder at all the literary and intellectual achievements of its early chroniclers--if their elevation of sentiment was from a divine source, and if the artless harmony, and reality of their narratives was the simple effect of the consistency of truth, and of transcription from the life. Now, on the other hand, what are the chief objections which Reconcile the infidel to his enormous burden of paradoxes, and which appear to the Christian far less invincible than the paradoxes themselves? They are, especially with all modern infidelity, objections to the a priori improbability of the doctrines revealed, and of the miracles which sustain them. Now, here we come to the very distinction on which we have already insisted, and which is so much insisted on by Butler. The evidence which sustains Christianity is all such as man is competent to consider; and is precisely of the same nature as that which enters into his every-day calculations of probability; While the objections are founded entirely on our ignorance and presumption. They suppose that we know more of the modes of the divine administration--of what God may have permitted, of what is possible and impossible to the ultimate development of an imperfectly developed system, and its relations to the entire universe,--than we do or can know.* ___ * The possible implications of Christianity with distant regions of the universe, and the dim hints which hints which Scripture seems to throw out as to such implication, are beautifully treated in the 4th, 5th, and 6th of Chalmer's 'Astronomical Discourses;' and we need not tell the read of Butler how much he insists upon similar considerations. ____ Of these objections the most widely felt and the most specious, especially in our day, is the assumption that miracles are an impossibility+; and yet we will venture to say that there is none more truly unphilosophical. That miracles are improbable viewed in relation to the experience of the individual or of the mass of men, is granted; for if they were not, they would, as Paley says, be no miracles; an every-day miracle is none. But that they are either impossible or so improbable that, if they were wrought, no evidence could establish them, is another matter. The first allegation involves a curious limitation of omnipotence; and the second affirms in effect, that, if God were to work a miracle, it would be our duty to disbelieve him! ___ + It is, as we shall see, the avowed axiom of Strauss; he even acknowledges, that if it be not true, he would not think it worth while to discredit the history of the Evangelists; that is, the history must be discredited, because he has resolved that a miracle is an impossibility! ____ We repeat our firm conviction that this a priori assumption against miracles is but a vulgar illusion of one of Bacon's idola tribus. So far from being disposed to admit the principle that a 'miracle is an impossibility,' we shall venture on what may seem to some a paradox, but which we are convinced is a truth,--that time will come, and is coming, when even those who shall object to the evidence which sustains the Christian miracles will acknowledge that philosophy requires them to admit that men have no ground whatever to dogmatise on the antecedent impossibility of miracles in general; and that not merely because if theists at all, they will see the absurdity of the assertion, while they admit that the present order of things had a beginning; and, if Christians at all, the equal absurdity of the assertion, while they admit that it will have an end;--not only because the geologist will have familiarised the world with the idea of successive interventions, and, in fact, distinct creative acts, having all the nature of miracles;--not only, we say, for these special reasons, but for a more general one. The true philosopher will see that, with his limited experience and that of all his contemporaries, he has no right to dogmatise about all that may have been permitted or will be permitted in the Divine administration of the universe; he will see that those who with one voice denied, about half a century ago, the existence of aerolites, and summarily dismissed all the alleged facts as a silly fable, because it contradicted their experience,--that those who refused to admit the Copernican theory because, as they said, it manifestly contradicted their experience,--that the schoolboy who refuses to admit the first law of motion because, as he says, it gives the lie to all his experience,--that the Oriental prince (whose scepticism Hume vainly attempts, on his principle, to meet) who denied the possibility of ice because it contradicted his experience,--and, in the same manner, that the men who, with Dr. Strauss, lay down the dictum that a miracle is impossible and a contradiction because it contradicts their experience,--have all been alike contravening the first principles of the modest philosophy of Bacon, and have fallen into one of the most ordinary illusions against which he has warned us namely, that that cannot be true which seems in contradiction to our own experience. We confidently predict that the day will come when the favourite argument of many so called philosopher in this matter will be felt to be the philosophy of the vulgar only; and that though many may, even then, deny that the testimony which supports the Scripture miracles is equal to the task, they will all alike abandon the axiom which supersedes the necessity of at all examining such evidence, by asserting that no evidence can establish them. While on this subject, we may notice a certain fantastical tone of depreciation of miracles as an evidence of Christianity, which is occasionally adopted even by some who do not deny the possibility or probability, or even the fact, of their occurrence. They affirm them to be of little moment, and represent them--with an exquisite affectation of metaphysical propriety--as totally incapable of convincing men of any moral truth; upon the ground that there is no natural relation between any displays of physical power and any such truth. Now without denying that the nature of the doctrine is a criterion, and must be taken into account in judging of the reality of any alleged miracle, we have but two things to reply to this: first, that, as Paley says in relation to the question whether any accumulation of testimony can establish a miraculous fact, we are content 'to try the theorem upon a simple case,' and affirm that man is so constituted that if he himself sees the blind restored to sight and the dead raised, under such circumstances as exclude all doubt of fraud on the part of others and all mistake on his own, he will uniformly associate authority with such displays of superhuman power; and, secondly, that the notion in question is in direct contravention of the language and spirit of Christ himself, who expressly suspends his claims to men's belief and the authority of his doctrine on the fact of his miracles. 'The works that I do in my Father's name, they bear witness of me.' 'If ye believe not me, believe my works.' 'If I had not come among them, and done the works that none other man did, they had not had sin; but now they have no cloak for their sin.' We have enumerated some of the paradoxes which infidelity is required to believe; and the old-fashioned, open, intelligible infidelity of the last century accepted them, and rejected Christianity accordingly. That was a self-consistent, simple, Ingenuous thing, compared with those monstrous forms of credulous reason, incredulous faith, metaphysical mysticism, even Christian Pantheism--so many varieties of which have sprung out of the incubation of German rationalism and German philosophy upon the New Testament. The advocates of these systems, after adopting the most formidable of the above paradoxes of infidelity, and (notwithstanding the frequent boast of originality) depending mainly on the same objections, and defending them by the very same critical arguments*, delude themselves with the idea that they have but purified and embalmed Christianity; not aware that they have first made a mummy of it. They are so greedy of paradox, that they, in fact, aspire to be Christians and infidels at the same time. Proclaiming the miracles of Christianity to be illusions of imagination or mythical legends,--the inspiration of its records no other or greater than that of Homer's 'Iliad,' or even 'Aesop's Fables;'--rejecting the whole of that supernatural clement with which the only records which can tell us any thing about the matter are full; declaring its whole history so uncertain that the ratio of truth to error must be a vanishing fraction;--the advocates of these systems yet proceed to rant and rave--they are really the only words we know which can express our sense of their absurdity--in a most edifying vein about the divinity of Christianity, and to reveal to us its true glories. 'Christ,' says Strauss, 'is not an individual, but an idea; that is to say, humanity. In the human race behold the God-made-man! behold the child of the visible virgin and the invisible Father!--that is, of matter and of mind; behold the Saviour, the Redeemer, the Sinless One; behold him who dies, who is raised again, who mounts into the heavens I Believe in this Christ! In his death, his resurrection, man is justified before God!'+ ____ * The main objection, both with the old and the new forms of infidelity, is, that against the miracles; the main argument with both, those which attempt to show their antecedent impossibility; and criticism directed against the credulity of the records which contain them. The principal difference is, that modern infidelity shrinks from the coarse imputation of fraud and imposture on the founders of Christianity; and prefers the theory of illusion or myth to that of deliberate fraud. But with this exception, which touches only the personal character of the founders of Christianity, the case remains the same. The same postulates and the same arguments are made to yield substantially the same conclusion. For, all that is supernatural in Christianity and all credibility in its records, vanish equally on either assumption. Nor is even the modern mode of interpreting many of the miracles (as illusions or legends) unknown to the older infidelity; only it more consistently felt that neither the one theory nor the other, could be trusted to alone. Velis et remis was its motto. + Such is Quinet's brief statement of Strauss's mystico-mythical Christiantity, founded on the Hegelian philosophy. For a fuller, we dare not say a more intelligible, account of it in Strauss's own words, and the metaphysical mysteries on which it depends, the reader may consult Dr. Beard's translation;--pp. 44, 45. of his Essay entitled 'Strauss, Hegel, and their Opinions. ____ Whether it be the Rationalism of Paulus, or the Rationalism of Strauss--whether that which declares all that is supernatural in Christianity (forming the bulk of its history) to be illusion, or that which declares it myth,--the conclusions can be made out only by a system of interpretation which can be compared to nothing but the wildest dreams and allegorical systems of some of the early Fathers#; while the results themselves are either those elementary principles of ethics for which there was no need to invoke a revelation at all, or some mystico-metaphysical philosophy, expressed in language as unintelligible as the veriest gibberish of the Alexandrian Platonists. In fact, by such exegesis and by such philosophy, any thing may be made out of any thing; and the most fantastical data be compelled to yield equally fantastical conclusions. ____ # Of the mode of accounting for the supernatural occurrences in the Scriptures by the illusion produced by mistaken natural phenomena, (perhaps the most stupidly jejune of all the theories ever projected by man), Quinet eloquently says, 'The pen which wrote the Provincial Letters would be necessary to lay bare the strange consequences of this theology. According to its conclusion, the tree of good and evil was nothing but a venomous plant, probably a manchineal tree, under which our first parents fell asleep. The shining face of Moses on the heights of Mount Sinai was the natural result of electricity; the vision of Zachariah was effected by the smoke of the chandeliers in the temple; the Magian kings, with their offerings of myrrh, of gold, and of incense, were three wandering merchants, who brought some glittering tinsel to the Child of Bethlehem; the star which went before them a servant bearing a flambeau; the angels in the scene of the temptation, a caravan traversing the desert, laden with provisions; the two angels in the tomb, clothed in white linen, an illusion caused by a linen garment; the Transfiguration, a storm.' Who would not sooner be an old-fashioned infidel than such a doting and maundering rationalist? ____ But the first and most natural question to ask is obviously this: how any mortal can pretend to extract any thing certain, much more divine, from records, the great bulk of which he has reduced to pure frauds, illusions, or legends,--and the great bulk of the remainder to an absolute uncertainty of how little is true and how much false?* Surely it would need nothing less than a new revelation to reveal this sweeping restriction of the old; and we should then be left in an ecstasy of astonishment-first, that the whole significance of it should have been veiled in frauds, illusions, or fictions; secondly, that its true meaning should have been hidden from the world for eighteen hundred years after its divine promulgation; thirdly, that it should be revealed at last, either in results which needed no revelation to reveal them, or in the Egyptian darkness of the allegorieo-metaphysico-mystico-logico-transendental, 'formulae' of the most obscure and contentious philosophy ever devised by man; and lastly, that all this superfluous trouble is to give us, after all, only the mysteries of a most enigmatical philosophy: For of Hegel, in particular, we think it may with truth be said that the reader is seldom fortunate enough to know that he knows his meaning, or even to know that Hegel knew his own. ____ * Daub naively enough declares that, if you except all that relates to angels, demons, and miracle, there is scarcely any mythology in the Gospel.' An exception which reminds one of the Irish prelate who, on reading 'Gulliver's Travels,' remarked that there were some things in that book which he could not think true. ____ Whether, then, we regard the original compilers of the evangelic records as inventing all that Paulus or Strauss rejects, or sincerely believing their own delusions, or that their statements have been artfully corrupted or unconsciously disguised, till Christ and his Apostles are as effectually transformed and travestied as these dreamers are pleased to imagine, with what consistency can we believe any thing certain amidst so many acknowledged fictions inseparably incorporated with them? If A has told B truth once and falsehood fifty times, (wittingly or unwittingly,) what can induce B to believe that he has any reason to believe A in that only time in which he does believe him, unless he knows the same truth by evidence quite independent of A, and for which he is not indebted to him at all? Should we not, then, at once acknowledge the futility of attempting to educe any certain historic fact, however meagre, or any doctrine, whether intelligible or obscure, from documents nine tenths of which are to be rejected as a tissue of absurd fictions? Or why should we not fairly confess that, for aught we can tell, the whole is a fiction? For certainly, as to the amount of historic fact which these men affect to leave, it is obviously a matter of the most trivial importance whether we regard the whole Bible as absolute fiction or not. Whether an obscure Galilean teacher, who taught a moral system which may have been as good (we can never know from such corrupt documents that it was as good) as that of Confucius, or Zoroaster, ever lived or not; and whether we are to add another name to those who have enunciated the elementary truths of ethics, is really of very little moment. Upon their principles we can clearly know nothing about him except that he is the centre of a vast mass of fictions, the invisible nucleus of a huge conglomerate of myths. A thousand times more, therefore, do we respect those, as both more honest and more logical, who, on similar grounds, openly reject Christianity altogether; and regard the New Testament, and speak of it, exactly as they would of Homer's 'Iliad,' or Virgil's 'Aeneid.' Such men, consistently enough, trouble themselves not at all in ascertaining what residuum of truth, historical or critical, may remain in a book which certainly gives ten falsehoods for one truth, and welds both together in inextricable confusion. The German infidels, on the other hand, with infinite labour, and amidst infinite uncertainties, extract either truth 'as old as the creation,' and as universal as human reason,--or truth which, after being hidden from the world for eighteen hundred years in mythical obscurity, is unhappily lost again the moment it is discovered, in the infinitely deeper darkness of the philosophy of Hegel and Strauss; who in vain endeavour to gasp out, in articulate language, the still latent mystery of the Gospel! Hegel, in his last hours, is said to have said,--and if he did not say, he ought to have said,--'Alas! there is but one man in all Germany who understands my doctrine,--and he does not understand it!' And yet, by his account, Hegelianism and Christianity, 'in their highest results,' [language, as usual, felicitously obscure] 'are one.' Both, therefore, are, alas! now for ever lost. That great problem--to account for the origin and establishment Of Christianity in the world, with a denial at the same time of its miraculous pretensions--a problem, the fair solution of which is obviously incumbent on infidelity--has necessitated the most gratuitous and even contradictory hypotheses, and may safely be said still to present as hard a knot as ever. The favourite hypothesis, recently, has been that of Strauss--frequently re-modified and re-adjusted indeed by himself--that Christianity is a myth, or collection of myths--that is, a conglomerate (as geologists would say) of a very slender portion of facts and truth, with an enormous accretion of undesigned fiction, fable, and superstitions; gradually framed and insensibly received, like the mythologies of Greece and Rome, or the ancient systems of Hindoo theology. It is true, indeed, that the particular critical arguments, the alleged historic discrepancies and so forth, on which this author founds his conclusion--are for the most part, not original; most of them having been insisted on before, both in Germany, and especially in our own country during the Deistical controversies of the preceding century. His idea of myths, however, may be supposed original; and he is very welcome to it. For of all the attempted solutions of the great problem, this will be hereafter regarded as, perhaps, the most untenable. Gibbon, in solving the same problem, and starting in fact from the same axioms,--for he too endeavoured to account for the intractable phenomenon--on natural causes alone,--assigned, as one cause, the reputation of working miracles, the reality of which he denied; but he was far too cautious to decide whether the original thunders of Christianity had pretended to work miracles, and had been enabled to cheat the world into the belief of them, or whether the world had been pleased universally to cheat itself into that belief. He was far too wise to tie himself to the proof that in the most enlightened period of the world's history--amidst the strongest contrarieties of national and religious feeling--amidst the bitterest bigotry of millions in behalf of what was old, and the bitterest contempt of millions of all that was new--amidst the opposing forces of ignorance and prejudice on the one hand and philosophy and scepticism on the other--amidst all the persecutions which attested and proved those hostile feelings on the part of the bulk of mankind--and above all, in the short space of thirty years (which is all that Dr. Stauss allows himself),--Christianity could be thus deposited, like the mythology of Greece and Rome! These, he knew, were very gradual and silent formations; originating in the midst of a remote antiquity and an unhistoric age, during the very infancy and barbarism of the races which adopted them, confined, be it remembered, to those races alone; and displaying, instead of the exquisite and symmetrical beauty of Christianity, those manifest signs of gradual accretion which were fairly to be expected; in the varieties of the deposited or irrupted substances--in the diffracted appearance of various parts--in the very weather stains, so to speak, which mark the whole mass. That the prodigious aggregate of miracles which the New Testament asserts, would, if fabulous, pass unchallenged, elude all detection, and baffle all scepticism.--collect in the course of a few years energetic and zealous assertors of their reality, in the heart of every civilised and almost every barbarous community, and in the course of three centuries, change the face of the world and destroy every other myth which fairly came in contact with it,--who but Dr. Strauss can believe? Was there no Dr. Strauss in those days? None to question and detect, as the process went on, the utter baselessness of these legends? Was all the world doting--was even the persecuting world asleep? Were all mankind resolved on befooling themselves? Are men wont thus quietly to admit miraculous pretensions, whether they be prejudiced votaries of another system or sceptics as to all? No: whether we consider the age, the country, the men assigned for the origin of these myths, we see the futility of the theory. It does not account even for their invention, much less for their success. We see that if any mythology could in such an age have germinated at all, it must have been one very different from Christianity; whether we consider the sort of Messiah the Jews expected, or the hatred of all Jewish Messiahs, which the Gentiles could not but have felt. The Christ offered them so far from being welcome, was to the one a 'stumbling block' and to the other 'foolishness'; and yet he conquered the prejudices of both. Let us suppose a parallel myth--if we may abuse the name. Let us suppose the son of some Canadian carpenter aspiring to be a moral teacher, but neither working nor pretending to work miracles; as much hated by his countrymen as Jesus Christ was hated by his, and both he and his countrymen as much hated by all the civilised world beside, as were Jesus Christ and the Jews: let us further suppose him forbidding his followers the use of all force in propagating his doctrine's, and then let us calculate the probability of an unnoticed and accidental deposit, in thirty short years, of a prodigious accumulation about these simple facts. of supernatural but universally accredited fables, these legends escaping detection or suspicion as they accumulated, and suddenly laying hold in a few years of myriads of votaries in all parts of both worlds, and in three centuries uprooting and destroying Christianity and all opposing systems! How long will it be before the Swedenborgian, or the Mormonite, or any such pretenders, will have similar success? Have there not been a thousand such, and has any one of them had the slightest chance against systems in possession,--against the strongly rooted prejudices of ignorance and the Argus-eyed investigations of scepticism? But all these were opposed to the pretensions of Christianity; nor can any one example of at all similar sudden success be alleged, except in the case of Mahomet; and to that the answer is brief. The history of Mahomet is the history of a conqueror--and his logic was the logic of the sword. In spite of the theory of Strauss, therefore, not less than that of Gibbon, the old and ever recurring difficulty of giving a rational account of the origin and establishment of Christianity still presents itself for solution to the infidel, as it always has done, and, we venture to say, always will do. It is an insoluble phenomenon, except by the admission of the facts of the--New Testament. 'The miracles,' says Butler, 'are a satisfactory account of the events, of which no other satisfactory account can be given; nor any account at all, but what is imaginary merely and invented.' In the meantime, the different theories of unbelief mutually refute one another; and we may plead the authority of one against the authority of another. Those who believe Strauss believe both the theory of imposture and the theory of illusion improbable; and those who believe in the theory of imposture believe the theory of myths improbable. And both parties, we are glad to think, are quite right in the judgment they form of one another. But what must strike every one who reflects as the most surprising thing in Dr. Strauss, is, that with the postulatum with which he sets out, and which he modestly takes for granted as too evident to need proof, he should have thought it worth while to write two bulky volumes of minute criticism on the subject. A miracle he declares to be an absurdity, an contradiction, an impossibility. If we believed this, we should deem a very concise enthymene (after having proved that postulatum though) all that it was necessary to construct on the subject. A miracle cannot be true; ergo, Christianity, which in the only records by which we know anything about it, avows its absolute dependence upon miracles, must be false. It is a modification of one or other of these monstrous forms of unbelieving belief and Christian infidelity, that Mr. Foxton, late of Oxford, has adopted in his 'Popular Christianity;' as perhaps also Mr. Froude in his 'Nemesis.' It is not very easy, indeed, to say what Mr. Foxton positively believes; having, like his German prototypes, a greater facility of telling what he does believe, and of wrapping up what he does believe in a most impregnable mysticism. He certainly rejects, however, all that which, when rejected a century ago, left, in the estimate of every one, an infidel in puris naturalibus. Like his German acquaintances, he accepts the infidel paradoxes--only, like them, he will still be a Christian. He believes, with Strauss, that a miracle is an impossibility and contradiction--'incredible per se.' As to the inspiration of Christ--he regards it as, in its nature, the same as that of Zoraster, Confucius, Mahomet, Plato, Luther, and Wickliffe--a curious assortment of 'heroic souls.'(Pp. 62, 63.) With a happy art of confusing the 'gifts of genius' no matter whether displayed in intellectual or moral power, and of forgetting that other men are not likely to overlook the difference, he complacently declares 'the wisdom of Solomon and the poetry of Isaiah the fruit of the same inspiration which is popularly attributed to Milton or Shakspeare, or even to the homely wisdom of Benjamin Franklin' (P. 72.) in the same pleasant confusion of mind, he thinks that the 'pens of Plato, of Paul and of Dante, the pencils of Raphael and of Claude, the Chisels of Canova and of Chantrey, no less than the voices of Knox of Wickliffe, and of Luther are ministering instruments, in different degrees, of the same spirit.' (P. 77.) He thinks that 'we find, both in the writers and the records of Scripture, every evidence of human infirmity that can possibly be conceived; and yet we are to believe that God himself specially inspired them with false philosophy, vicious logic, and bad grammar.'(P. 74.) He denies the originality both of the Christian ethic (which he says are a gross plagiarism from Plato) as also in great part of the system of Christian doctrine.* Nevertheless, it would be quite a mistake, it seems, to suppose that Mr. Foxton is no Christian! He is, on the contrary, of the very few who can tell us what Christianity really is; and who can separate the falsehoods and the myths which have so long disguised it. He even talks most spiritually and with an edifying onction. He tells us "God was," indeed, "in Christ, reconciling the world unto himself." And but little deduction need be made from the rapturous language of Paul, who tells us that "in him dwelt all the fullness of the Godhead bodily" (P. 65); I concede to Christ' (generous admission!) 'the highest inspiration hitherto granted to the prophets of God' (P. 143),--Mahomet, it appears, and Zoroaster and Confucius, having also statues in his truly Catholic Pantheon. 'The position of Christ,' he tells us in another place, is 'simply that of the foremost man in all the world,' though he 'soars far above "all principalities and powers"--above all philosophies hitherto known--above all creeds hitherto propagated in his name'--the true Christian doctrine, after having been hid from ages and generations, being reserved to be disclosed, we presume, by Mr. Foxton. His spiritualism, as usual with the whole school of our new Christian infidels, is, of course, exquisitely refined,--but, unhappily, very vague. He is full of talk of 'a deeep insight,'--of a 'faith not in dead histories, but living realities--a revelation to our innermost nature.' 'The true seer,' he says, 'looking deep into causes, carries in his heart the simple wisdom of God. The secret harmonies of Nature vibrate on his ear, and her fair proportions reveal themselves to his eye. He has a deep faith in the truth of God.' (P. 146.) 'The inspired man is one whose outward life derives all its radiance from the light within him. He walks through stony places by the light of his own soul, and stumbles not. No human motive is present to such a mind in its highest exultation--no love of praise--no desire of fame--no affection, no passion mingles with the divine afflatus, which passes over without ruffling the soul.' (P. 44.) And a great many fine phrases of the same kind, equally innocent of all meaning. ____ * (Pp. 51--60.) We are hardly likely to yield to Mr. Foxton in our love of Plato, for whom we have expressed, and that very recently, (April, 1848,) no stinted admiration: and what we have there affirmed we are by no means disposed to retract,--that no ancient author has approached, in the expression of ethical truth, so near to the maxims and sometimes the very expressions, of the Gospel. Nevertheless, we as strongly affirm, that he who contrasts (whatever the occasional sublimity of expression) the faltering and often sceptical tone of Plato on religious subjects, with the uniformity and decision of the Evangelical system,--his dark notions in relation to God (candidly confessed) with the glorious recognition of Him in the Gospel as 'our Father,'--his utterly absurd application of his general principles of morals, in his most Utopian of all Republics, with the broad, plain social ethics of Christianity,--the tone of mournful familiarity (whatever his personal immunity) in which he too often speaks of the saddest pollutions that ever degraded humanity, with the spotless purity of the Christian rule of life,--the hesitating, speculative tone of the Master of the Academy with the decision and majesty of Him who 'spake with authority, and not as the Scribes,' whether Greek or Jewish.--the metaphysical and abstract character of Plato's reasonings with the severely practical character of Christ's,--the feebleness of the motives supplied by the abstractions of the one, and the intensity of those supplied by the other,--the adaptation of the one to the intelligent only, and the adaptation of the other to universal humanity,--the very manner of Plato, his gorgeous style, with the still more impressive simplicity of the Great Teacher,--must surely see in the contrast every indication, to say nothing of the utter gratuitousness (historically) of the contrary hypothesis, that the sublime ethics of the Gospel, whether we regard substance, or manner, or, tone, or style, are no plagiarism from Plato. As for the man who can hold such a notion, he must certainly be very ignorant either of Plate or of Christ. As the best apology for Mr. Foxton's offensive folly we may, perhaps, charitably hope that he is nearly ignorant of both.--Equally absurd is the attempt to identify the metaphysical dreams of Plato with the doctrinal system of the Gospel, though it is quite true, that long subsequent to Christ the Platonising Christians tried to accommodate the speculations of the sage they loved, to the doctrines of a still greater master. But Plato never extorted from his friends stronger eulogies than Christ has often extorted from his enemies. ____ It is amazing and amusing to see with what case Mr. Foxton decides points which have filled folios of controversy. 'In the teaching of Christ himself, there is not the slightest allusion to the modern evangelical notion of an atonement.' 'The diversities of "gifts" to which Paul alludes, Cor. i. 12. are nothing more than those different "gifts" which, in common parlance, we attribute to the various tempers and talents of men.' (P. 67.) 'It is, however, after all, absurd to suppose that the miracles of the Scriptures are subjects of actual belief; either to the vulgar or the learned.' (P. 104.) What an easy time of it must such an all-sufficient controvertist have! He thinks it possible; too, that Christ, though nothing more than an ordinary man, may really have 'thought himself Divine,' without being liable to the charge of a visionary self-idolatry or of blasphemy,--as supposed by every body, Trinitarian or Unitarian, except Mr. Foxton. He accounts for it by the 'wild sublimity of human emotion, when the rapt spirit first feels the throbbings of the divine afflatus,' &c. &c. A singular afflatus which teaches a man to usurp the name and prerogatives of Deity, and a strange 'inspiration' which inspires him with so profound an ignorance of his own nature! This interpretation, we believe, is peculiarly Mr. Foxton's owe. The way in which he disposes of the miracles, is essentially that of a vulgar, undiscriminating, unphilosophic mind. There have been, he tells us in effect, so many false miracles, superstitious stories of witches, conjurors, ghosts, hobgoblins, of cures by royal touch, and the like,--and therefore the Scripture miracles are false! Why, who denies that there have been plenty of false miracles? And there have been as many false religions. Is there, therefore, none true? The proper business in every such case is to examine fairly the evidence, and not to generalise after this absurd fashion. Otherwise we shall never believe any thing; for there is hardly one truth that has not its half score of audacious counterfeits. Still he is amusingly perplexed, like all the rest of the infidel world, how to get rid of the miracles--whether on the principle of fraud, or fiction, or illusion. He thinks there would be 'a great accession to the ranks of reason and common sense by disproving the reality of the miracles, without damaging the veracity or honestly of the simple, earnest, and enthusiastic writers by whom they are recorded;' and complains of the coarse and undiscriminating criticism of most of the French and English Deists, who explain the miracles 'on the supposition of the grossest fraud acting on the grossest credulity.' But he soon finds that the materials for such a compromise are utterly intractable. He thinks that the German Rationalists have depended too much on some 'single hypothesis, which often proves to be insufficient to meet the great variety of conditions and circumstances with which the miracles have been handed down to us.' Very true; but what remedy? 'We find one German writer endeavouring to explain away the miracles on the mystical (mythical) theory; and another riding into the arena of controversy on the miserable hobby-horse of "clairvoyance" or "mesmerism"; each of these, and a host of others of the same class, rejecting whatever light is thrown on the question by all the theories together.' He therefore proposes, with great and gratuitous liberality, to heap all these theories together, and to take them as they are wanted; not withholding any of the wonders of modern science--even, as would seem, the possible knowledge of 'chloroform' (PP. 104.. 86, 87.)--from the propagators of Christianity! But, alas! the phenomena are still intractable. The stubborn 'Book' will still baffle all such efforts to explain it away; it is willing to be rejected, if it so pleases men, but it guards itself from being thus made a fool of. For who can fail to see that neither all or any considerable part of the multifarious miracles of the New Testament can be explained by any such gratuitous extension of ingenious fancies; and that if they could be so explained, it would be still impossible to exculpate the men who need such explanations from the charge of perpetuating the grossest frauds! Yet this logical ostrich, who am digest all these stones, presumptuously declares a miracle an impossibility and the very notion of it a contradiction.* But enough of Mr. Foxton. ____ * Mr. Foxton denies that men, in Paley's 'single case in which he tries the general theorem,' would believe the miracle; but he finds it convenient to leave out the most significant circumstances on which Paley makes the validity of the testimony to depend, instead of stating them fairly in Paley's own words. Yet that the sceptics (if such there could be) must be the merest fraction of the species, Mr. Foxton himself immediately proceeds to prove by showing what is undeniably the case) that almost all mankind readily receive miraculous occurrences on far lower evidence than Paley's common sense would require them to demand. Surely he must be related to the Irishman who placed his ladder against the bough he was cutting off. I ____ There are no doubt some minds amongst us, whose power we admit, and whose perversion of power we lament, who have bewildered themselves by really deep meditation on inexplicable mysteries; who demand certainty where certainty is not given to man, or demand for truths which are established by sufficient evidence, other evidence than those truths will admit. We can even painfully sympathise in that ordeal of doubt which such powerful minds are peculiarly exposed--with their Titanic struggles against the still mightier power of Him who has said to the turbulent intellect of man, as well as to the stormy ocean 'Hitherto shalt thou come, but no farther,--and here shall thy proud waves be staid.' We cannot wish better to any such agitated mind than that it may listen to those potent and majestic words: 'Peace--be still!' uttered by the voice of Him who so suddenly hushed the billows of the Galilean lake. But we are at the same time fully convinced that in our day there are thousands of youths who are falling into the same errors and perils from sheer vanity and affectation; who admire most what they least understand, and adopt all the obscurities and paradoxes they stumble upon, as a cheap path to a reputation for profundity; who awkwardly imitate the manner and retail the phrases of the writers they study; and, as usual, exaggerate to caricature their least agreeable eccentricities. We should think that some of these more powerful minds must be by this time ashamed of that ragged regiment of shallow thinkers, and obscure writers and talkers who at present infest our literature, and whose parrot-like repetition of their own stereotyped phraseology, mingled with some barbarous infusion of half Anglicised German, threatens to form as odious a cant as ever polluted the stream of thought or disfigured the purity of language. Happily it is not likely to be more than a passing fashion; but still it is a very unpleasant fashion while it lasts. As in Johnson's day, every young writer imitated as well as he could the ponderous diction and everlasting antitheses of the great dictator as in Byron's day, there were thousands to whom the world 'was a blank' at twenty or thereabouts, and of whose dark imaginings,' as Macaulay says, the waste was prodigious; so now there are hundreds of dilettanti pantheists', mystics and sceptics to whom everything is a 'sham,' an 'unreality'; Who tell us that the world stands in need of a great 'prophet,' a seer,' a 'true prophet', a large soul,' a god-like soul,'*--who shall dive into 'the depths of the human consciousness,' and whose 'utterances' shall rouse the human mind from the 'cheats and frauds' which have hitherto everywhere practised on its simplicity. The tell us, in relation to philosophy, religion, and especially in relation to Christianity, that all that has been believed by mankind has been believed only on 'empirical' grounds; and that the old answers to difficulties will do no longer. They shake their sage heads at such men as Clarke, Paley, Butler, and declare that such arguments as theirs will not satisfy them.,--We are glad to admit that all this vague pretension is now but rarely displayed with the scurrilous spirit of that elder unbelief against which the long series of British apologists for Christianity arose between 1700 and 1750; But there is often in it an arrogance as real, though not in so offensive a form. Sometimes the spirit of unbelief even assumes an air of sentimental regret at its own inconvenient profundity. Many a worthy youth tells us he almost wishes he could believe. He admires, of all things, the 'moral grandeur'--the 'ethical beauty' of many parts of Christianity; he condescends to patronize Jesus Christ, though he believes that the great mass of words and actions by which alone we know anything about him, are sheer fictions or legends; he believes--gratuitously enough in this instance, for he has no ground for it--that Jesus Christ was a very 'great man' worthy of comparison at least with Mahomet, Luther, Napoleon, and 'other heroes'; he even admits that happiness of a simple, child-like faith, in the puerilities of Christianity--it produces such content of mind! But alas! he cannot believe--his intellect is not satisfied--he has revolved the matter too profoundly to be thus taken in; he must, he supposes, (and our beardless philosopher sighs as he says it) bear the penalty of a too restless intellect, and a too speculative genius; he knows all the usual arguments which satisfied Pascal, Butler, Bacon, Leibnitz; but they will do no longer: more radical, more tremendous difficulties have suggested themselves, 'from the 'depths of philosophy,' and far different answers are required now!+ ____ * Foxton's last chapter, passim, from some expressions one would almost imagine that our author himself aspired to be, if not the Messiah, at least the Elias, of this new dispensation. We fear, however, that this 'vox clamantis' would reverse the Baptist's proclamation, and would cry, 'The straight shall be made crooked. and the plain places rough.' + We fear that many young minds in our day are exposed to the danger of falling into one or other of the prevailing forms of unbelief, and especially into that of pantheistic mysticism--from rashly meditating in the cloudy regions of German philosophy--on difficulties which would seem beyond the limits of human reason, but which that philosophy too often promises to solve--with what success we may see from the rapid succession and impenetrable obscurities of its various systems. Alas! when will men learn that one of the highest achievements of philosophy is to know when it is vain to philosophise. When the obscure principles of these most uncouth philosophies, expressed, we verily believe, in the darkest language ever used by civilised man, are applied to the solution of the problems of theology and ethics, no wonder that the natural consequence, as well as just retribution, of such temerity is a plunge into tenfold night. Systems of German philosophy may perhaps be advantageously studied by those who are mature enough to study them; but that they have an incomparable power of intoxicating the intellect of the young aspirant to their mysteries, is, we think, undeniable. They are producing the effect just now in a multitude of our juveniles, who are beclouding themselves in the vain attempt to comprehend ill-translated fragments of ill-understood philosophies, (executed in a sort of Anglicised-German, or Germanised-English, we know not which to call it, but certainly neither German nor English,) from the perusal of which they carry away nothing but some very obscure terms, on which they themselves have superinduced a very vague meaning. These terms you in vain implore them to define; or, if they define them, they define them in terms which as much need definition. Heartily do we wish that Socrates would reappear amongst us, to exercise his accoucheur's art on these hapless Theaetetuses and Menos of our day! Many such youths might no doubt reply at first to the sarcastic Querist, (who might gently complain of a slight cloudiness in their speculations.) that the truths they uttered were too profound for ordinary reasoners. We may easily imagine how Socrates would have dealt with such assumptions. His reply would be rather more severe than that of Mackintosh to Coleridge in a somewhat similar case; namely, that if a notion cannot be made clear to persons who have spent the better part of their days in resolving the difficulties of metaphysics and philosophy, and who are conscious that they are not destitute of patience for the effort requisite to understand them, it may suggest a doubt whether the truth be not in the medium of communication rather than elsewhere; and, indeed, whether the philosopher be not aiming to communicate thoughts on subjects on which man can have no thoughts to communicate. Socrates would add, perhaps, that language was given us to express, not to conceal our thoughts; and that, if they cannot be communicated, invaluable as they doubtless are, we had better keep them to ourselves; one thing it is clear he would do,--he would insist on precise defintions. But in truth it may be more than surmised that the obscurities of which all complain, except those (and in our day they are not a few) to whom obscurity is a recommendation, result from suffering the intellect to speculate in realms forbidden to its access; into caverns of tremendous depth and darkness, with nothing better than our own rushlight. Surely we have reason to suspect as much when some learned professor, after muttering his logical incantations, and conjuring with his logical formulae, surprises you by saying, that he has disposed of the great mysteries of existence and the universe, and solved to your entire satisfaction, in his own curt way, the problems of the ABSOLUTE and the INFINITE! If the cardinal truths of philosophy and religion hitherto received are doomed to be imperilled by such speculations, one feels strongly inclined to pray with the old Homeric hero,--'that if they must perish, it may be at least in daylight.' We earnestly counsel the youthful reader to defer the study of German philosophy, at least till he has matured and disciplined his mind, and familiarised himself with the best models of what used to be our boast--English clearness of thought and expression. He will then learn to ask rigidly for definitions, and not rest satisfied with half-meanings--or no meaning. To the naturally venturous pertinacity of young metaphysicians, few would be disposed to be more indulgent than ourselves. From the time of Plato downwards--who tells us that no sooner do they 'taste' of dialectics than they are ready to dispute with every body--'sparing neither father nor mother, scarcely even the lower animals,' if they had but a voice to reply. They have always expected more from metaphysics than (except as a discipline) they will ever yield. He elsewhere, still more humorously describes the same trait. He compares then, to young dogs who are perpetually snapping at every thing about them:--Hoimai gar se ou lelêthenai, hoti hoi meirakiskoi, hotan to prôton logôn geuôntai, ôs paidia autois katachrôntai, aei eis antilogian chrômenoi kai mimoumenoi tous exelenchontas autoi allous elenchousi, chairontes ôsper skulakia te kai sparattein tous plêsion aei. But we hope we shall not see our metaphysical 'puppies' amusing themselves--as so many 'old dogs' amongst neighbours (who ought to have known better) have done,--by tearing into tatters the sacred leaves of that volume, which contains what is better than all their philosophy. ____ This is easily said, and we know is often said, and loudly. But the justice with which it is said is another matter; for when we can get these cloudy objectors to put down, not their vague assertions of profound difficulties, uttered in the obscure language they love, but a precise statement of their objections, we find them either the very same with those which were quite as powerfully urged in the course of the deistical controversies of the last century (the case with far the greater part), or else such as are of similar character, and susceptible of similar answers. We say not that the answers were always satisfactory, nor are now inquiring whether any of them were so; we merely maintain that the objections in question are not the novelties they affect to be. We say this to obviate an advantage which the very vagueness of much modern opposition to Christianity would obtain, from the notion that some prodigious arguments have been discovered which the intellect of a Pascal or a Butler was not comprehensive enough to anticipate, and which no Clarke or Paley would have been logician enough to refute. We affirm, without hesitation, that when the new advocates of infidelity descend from their airy elevation, and state their objections in intelligible terms, they are found, for the most part, what we have represented them. When we read many of the speculations of German infidelity, we seem to be re-perusing many of our own authors of the last century. It is as if our neighbours had imported our manufactures; and, after re-packing them, in new forms and with some additions, had re-shipped and sent them back to us as new commodities. Hardly an instance of discrepancy is mentioned in the 'Wolfenbutted Fragments,' which will not be found in the pages of our own deists a century ago; and, as already hinted, of Dr. Strauss's elaborate strictures, the vast majority will be found in the same sources. In fact, though far from thinking it to our national credit, none but those who will dive a little deeper than most do into a happily forgotten portion of our literature, (which made noise enough in its day, and created very superfluous terrors for the fate of Christianity,) can have any idea of the extent to which the modern forms of unbelief in Germany--so far as founded on any positive grounds, whether of reason or of criticism,--are indebted to our English Deists. Tholuck, however, and others of his countrymen, seem thoroughly aware of it. The objections to the truth of Christianity are directed either against the evidence itself; or that which it substantiates. Against the latter, as Bishop Butler says, unless the objections be truly such as prove contradictions in it, they are 'perfectly frivolous;' since we cannot be competent judges either as to what it is worthy of the Supreme Mind to reveal, or how far a portion of an imperfectly-developed system may harmonise with the whole; and, perhaps, on many points, we never can be competent judges, unless we can cease to be finite. The objections to the evidence itself are, as the same great author observes, 'well worthy of the fullest attention.' The a priori objection to miracles we have already briefly touched. If that objection be valid, it is vain to argue further; but if not, the remaining objections must be powerful enough to neutralise the entire mass of the evidence, and, in fact, to mount to a proof of contradictions; 'not on this or that minute point of historic detail,--but on such as shake the foundations of the whole edifice of evidence. It will not do to say, 'Here is a minute discrepancy in the history of Matthew or Luke as compared with that of 'Mark or John;' for, first, such discrepancies are often found, in other authors, to be apparent, and not real,--founded on our taking for granted that there is no circumstance unmentioned by two writers which, if known, would have been seen to harmonise their statements. We admit this possible reconciliation readily enough in the case of many seeming discrepancies of other historians; but it is a benefit which men are slow to admit in the case of the sacred narratives. There the objector is always apt to take it for granted that the discrepancy is real; though it may be easy to suppose a case (a possible case is quite sufficient for the purpose) which would neutralise the objection. Of this perverseness (we can call it by no other name) the examples are perpetual in the critical tortures which Strauss has subjected the sacred historians.*"-- It may be objected, perhaps, that the gratuitous supposition of some unmentioned fact--which, if mentioned, would harmonise the apparently counter-statements of two historians--cannot be admitted, and is, in fact, a surrender of the argument. But to say so, is only to betray an utter ignorance of what the argument is. If an objection be founded on the alleged absolute contradiction of two statements, it is quite sufficient to show any (not the real, but only a hypothetical and possible) medium of reconciling them; and the objection is, in all fairness, dissolved. And this would be felt by the honest logician, even if we did not know of any such instances in point of fact. We do know however, of many. Nothing is more common than to find, in the narration of two perfectly honest historians,--referring to the same events from different points of view, or for a different purpose,--the omission a fact which gives a seeming contrariety to their statements; a contrariety which the mention of the omitted fact by a third writer instantly clears up.+ ___ * The reader may see some striking instances of his disposition to take the worse sense, in Beard's 'Voices of the Church.' Tholuck truly observes, too, in his strictures on Strauss, 'We know how frequently the loss of a few words in one ancient author would be sufficient to cast an inexplicable obscurity over another.' The same writer well observes, that there never was a historian who, if treated on the principles of criticism which his countryman has applied to the Evangelists, might not be proved a mere mytholographer ... 'It is plain', he says, 'that if absolute among historians'--and still more absolute apparent agreement--is necessary to assure us that we possess in their writings credible history, we must renounce all pretence to any such possession.' The translations from Quinet, Coquerel, and Tholuck are all, in different ways, well worth reading. The last truly says, 'Strauss came to the study of the Evangelical history with the forgone conclusion that "miracles are impossible;" and where an investigator brings with him an absolute conviction of the guilt of the accused to the examination of his case, we know how even the most innocent may be implicated and condemned out of his own mouth.' In fact, so strong and various are the proofs of truth and reality in the history of the New Testament, that none would ever have suspected the veracity of the writers, or tried to disprove it, except for the above forgone conclusion--'that miracles are impossible.' We also recommend to the reader an ingenious brochure included in the 'Voices of the Church, in reply to Strauss,' constructed on the same principle with Whately's admirable 'Historic Doubts,' namely; 'The Fallacy of the Mythical Theory of Dr. Strauss, illustrated from the History of Martin Luther, and from the actual Mohammedan Myths of the Life of Jesus.' What a subject for the same play of ingenuity would be Dean Swift! The date, and place of his birth disputed--whether he was an Englishman or an Irishman--his incomprehensible relations to Stella and Vanessa, utterly incomprehensible on any hypothesis--his alleged seduction of one of one, of both, of neither--his marriage with Stella affirmed, disputed, and still wholly unsettled--the numberless other incidents in his life full of contradiction and mystery--and, not least, the eccentricities and inconsistencies of his whole character and conduct! Why, with a thousandth part of Dr. Strauss's assumptions, it would be easy to reduce Swift to as fabulous a personage as his own Lemuel Gulliver. +Any apparent discrepancy with either themselves or profane historians is usually sufficient to satisfy Dr. Strauss. He is ever ready to conclude that the discrepancy is real, and that the profane historians are right. In adducing some striking instances of the minute accuracy of Luke, only revealed by obscure collateral evidence (historic or numismatic) discovered since, Tholuck remarks, 'What an outcry would have been made had not the specious appearance of error been thus obviated. Luke calls Gallio proconsul of Achaia: we should not have expected it, since though Achaia was originally to senatorial province. Tiberius had changed it into an imperial one, and the title of its governor, therefore, was procurator; now a passage in Suetonius informs us, that Claudius had restored the province to the senate.' The same Evangelist calls Sergius Paulus governor of Cyprus; yet we might have expected to find only a praetor, since Cyprus was an imperial province. In this case, again: says Tholuck, the correctness of the historian has been remarkable attested. Coins and later still a passage in Dion Cassius, have been found, giving proof that Augustus restored the province to the senate; and thus, as if to vindicate the Evangelist, the Roman historian adds, 'Thus, proconsuls began to be sent into that island also.' Trans. From Tholuck, pp. 21, 22. In the same manner coins have been found proving he is correct in some other once disputed instances. Is it not fair to suppose that many apparent discrepancies of the same order may be eventually removed by similar evidence? ____ Very forgetful of this have the advocates of infidelity usually been: nay, (as if they would make up in the number of objections what they want in weight,) they have frequently availed themselves not only of apparent contrarieties, but of mere incompleteness in the statements of two different writers, on which to found a charge of contradiction. Thus, if one writer says that a certain person was present at a given time or place, when another says that he and two more were there; or that one man was cured of blindness, when another says that two were,-- such a thing is often alleged as a contradiction; whereas, in truth, it resents not even a difficulty--unless one historian be bound to say not only all that another says but just so much, and no more. Let such objections be what they will, unless they prove absolute contradictions in the narrative, they are as mere dust in the balance, compared with the stupendous mass and variety of that evidence which confirms the substantial truth of Christianity. And even if they establish real contradictions, they still amount, for reasons we are about to state, to dust in the balance, unless they establish contradictions not in immaterial but in vital points. The objections must be such as, if proved, leave the whole fabric of evidence in ruins. For, secondly, we are fully disposed to concede to the objector that there are, in the books of Scripture, not only apparent but real discrepancies,--a point which many of the advocates of Christianity are, indeed, reluctant to admit but which we think, no candid advocate will feel to be the less true. Nevertheless, even such an advocate of the Scriptures may justly contend that the very reasons which necessitate this admission of discrepancies also reduce them to such a limit that they do not affect, in the slightest degree, the substantial credibility of the sacred records; and, in our judgment, Christians have unwisely damaged their cause, and given a needless advantage to the infidel, by denying that any discrepancies exist, or by endeavouring to prove that they do not. The discrepancies to which we refer are just those which, in the course of the transcription of ancient books, divine or human, through many ages,--their constant transcription by different hands,--their translation into various languages,--may not only be expected to occur, but which must occur, unless there be a perpetual series of most minute and ludicrous miracles--certainly never promised, and as certainly never performed--to counteract all the effects of negligence and inadvertence, to guide the pen of every transcriber to infallible accuracy, and to prevent his ever deviating into any casual error! Such miraculous intervention, we need not say, has never been pleaded for by any apologist of Christianity; has certainly never been promised; and, if it had,--since we see, as a matter of fact, that the promise has never been fulfilled,--the whole of Christianity would fall to the ground. But then, from a large induction, we know that the limits within which discrepancies and errors from such causes will occur, must be very moderate; we know, from numberless examples of other writings, what the maximum is,--and that it leaves their substantial authenticity untouched and unimpeached. No one supposes the writings of Plato and Cicero, of Thucydides and Tacitus, of Bacon or Shakspeare, fundamentally vitiated by the like discrepancies, errors, and absurdities which time and inadvertence have occasioned. The corruptions in the Scriptures from these causes are likely to be even less than in the case of any other writings; from their very structure,--the varied and reiterated forms in which all the great truths are expressed; from the greater veneration they inspired; the greater care with which they would be transcribed; the greater number of copies which would be diffused through the world,--and which, though that very circumstance would multiply the number of variations, would also afford, in their collation, the means of reciprocal correction;--a correction which we have seen applied in our day, with admirable success, to so many ancient writers, under a system of canons which have now raised this species of criticism to the rank of an inductive science. This criticism, applied to the Scriptures, has in many instances restored the true rending, and dissolved the objections which might have been founded on the uncorrected variations; and, as time rolls on, may lead, by yet fresh discoveries and more comprehensive recensions, to a yet further clarifying of the stream of Divine truth, till 'the river of the water of life' shall flow nearly in its original limpid purity. Within such limits as these, the most consistent advocate of Christianity not only must admit--not only may safely admit--the existence of discrepancies, but may do so even with advantage to his cause. he must admit them, since such variations must be the result of the manner in which the records have been transmitted, unless we suppose a supernatural intervention, neither promised by God nor pleaded for by man: he may safely admit them, because--from a general induction from the history of all literature--we see that, where copies of writings have been sufficiently multiplied, and sufficient motives for care have existed in the transcription, the limits of error are very narrow, and leave the substantial identity untouched: and he may admit them with advantage; for the admission is a reply to many objections rounded on the assumption that he must contend that there are no variations, when he need only contend that there are none that can be material. But it may be said, 'May not we be permitted, while conceding the miraculous and other evidences of Christianity, and the general authority of the records which contain it, to go a step further, and to reject some things which seem palpably ill-reasoned, distasteful, inconsistent, or immoral?' 'Let every man be fully persuaded in his own mind.' For ourselves, we honestly confess we cannot see the logical consistency of such a position; any more than the reasonableness, after having admitted the preponderant evidence for the great truth of Theism, of excepting some phenomena as apparently at variance with the Divine perfections; and thus virtually adopting a Manichaean hypothesis. We must recollect that we know nothing of Christianity except from its records; and as these, once fairly ascertained to be authentic and genuine, are all, as regards their contents, supported precisely by the same miraculous and other evidence; as they bear upon them precisely the same internal marks of artlessness, truth, and sincerity; and, historically and in other respects, are inextricably interwoven with one another; we see not on what principles we can safely reject portions as improbable, distasteful, not quadrating with the dictates of reason;' our 'intuitional consciousness,' and what not. This assumed liberty, however is, as we apprehend, of the very essence of Rationalism; and it may be called the Manichaeism of interpretation. So long as the canonicity of any of the records, or any portion of them, or their true interpretation, is in dispute, we may fairly doubt; but that point once decided by honest criticism, to say we receive such and such portions, on account of the weight of the general evidence, and yet reject other portions, though sustained by the same evidence, because we think there is something unreasonable or revolting in their substance, is plainly to accept evidence only where it pleases us, and to reject it where it pleases us not. The only question fairly at issue must ever be whether the general evidence for Christianity will overbear the difficulty which we cannot separate from the truths. If it will not, we must reject it wholly; and if it will, we must receive it wholly. There is plainly no tenable position between absolute infidelity and absolute belief. And this is proved by the infinitely various and Protean character of Rationalism, and the perfectly indeterminate, but always arbitrary, limits it imposes on itself. It exists in all forms and degrees, from a moderation which accepts nearly the entire system of Christianity, and which certainly rejects nothing that can be said to constitute its distinctive truth, to an audacity of unbelief, which, professing still vaguely to reverence Christianity as 'something divine,' sponges out nine tenths of the whole; or, after reducing the mass of it to a caput mortuum of lies, fiction, and superstitions, retains only a few drops of fact and doctrine,--so few as certainly not to pay for the expenses of the critical distillation.* ____ * It may be as well to remark, that we have frequently observed a disposition to represent the very general abandonment of the theory of 'verbal inspiration' as a concession to Rationalism; as if it necessarily followed from admitting that inspiration is not verbal, that therefore an indeterminate portion of the substance or doctrine is purely human. It is plain, however, that this is no necessary consequence: an advocate of plenary inspiration may contend, that, though he does not believe that the very words of Scripture were dictated, yet that the thoughts were either so suggested, (if the matter was such as could be known only by revelation,) or so controlled, (if the matter were such as was previously known,) that (excluding errors introduced into the text since) the Scriptures as first composed were--what no book of man ever was, or can be, even in the plainest narrative of the simplest events--a perfectly accurate expression of truth. We enter not here, however, into the question whether such a view of inspiration is better or worse than another. We are simply anxious to correct a fallacy which has, judging from what we have recently read, operated rather extensively. Inspiration may be verbal, or the contrary; but, whether one or the other, he who takes the affirmative or negative of that question may still consistently contend that it may still be plenary. The question of the inspiration of the whole or the inspiration of a part, is widely different from that as to the suggestion of the words or the suggestion of the thoughts. But these questions we leave to professed theologians. We merely enter our protest against a prevailing fallacy. ____ Nor will the theory of what some call the 'intuitional consciousness avail us here. It is true, as they assert, that the constitution of human nature is such that, before its actual development, it has a capacity of developing to certain effects only,--just as the flower in the germ, as it expands to the sun, will have certain colours and a certain fragrance, and no other;--all which, indeed, though not very new or profound, is very important. But it is not so dear that it will give us any help on the present occasion. We have an original susceptibility of music, of beauty, of religion, it is said. Granted; but as the actual development of this susceptibility exhibits all the diversities between Handel's notions of harmony and those of an American Indian--between Raphael's notions of beauty and those of a Hottentot--between St. Paul's notions of a God and those of a New Zealander--it would appear that the education of this susceptibility is at least as important as the susceptibility itself, if not more so; for without the susceptibility itself, we should simply have no notion of music, beauty, or religion; and between such negation and that notion of all these which New Zealanders and Hottentots possess, not a few of our species would probably prefer the former. It is in vain then to tell us to look into the 'depths of our own nature' (as some vaguely say), and to judge thence what, in a professed revelation, is suitable to us, or worthy of our acceptance and rejection respectively. This criterion is, as we see by the utterly different judgments formed by different classes of Rationalists as to the how much they shall receive of the revelation they might generally admit, a very shifting one--a measure which has no linear unit; it is to employ, as mathematicians say, a variable as if it were a constant quantity; or, rather, it is to attempt to find the value of an unknown quantity by another equally unknown. We cannot but judge, then, the principles of Rationalism to be logically untenable. And we do so, not merely or principally on account of the absurdity it involves,--that God has expressly supplemented human reason by a revelation containing an indeterminate but large portion of falsities, errors, and absurdities and which we are to commit to our little alembic, and distil as we may; not only from the absurdity of supposing that God has demanded our faith, for statements which are to be received only as they appear perfectly comprehensible by our reason;--or, in other words, only for what it is impossible that we should doubt or deny; not merely because the principle inevitably leaves man to construct the so-called revelation entirely for himself; so that what one man receives as genuine communication from heaven, another, from having a different development of 'his intuitional consciousness,' rejects as an absurdity too gross for human belief:--Not wholly, we say, nor even principally, for these reasons; but for the still stronger reason, that such a system of objections is an egregious trifling with that great complex mass of evidence which, as we have said, applies to the whole of Christianity or to none of it. As if to baffle the efforts of man consistently to disengage these elements of our belief, the whole are inextricably blended together. The supernatural element, especially, is so diffused through all the records, that it is more and more felt, at every step, to be impossible to obliterate it without obliterating the entire system in which it circulates. The stain, if stain it be, is far too deep for any scouring fluids of Rationalism to wash it out, without destroying the whole texture of our creed: and, in our judgment, the only consistent Rationalism is the Rationalism which rejects it all. At whatever point the Rationalist we have attempted to describe may take his stand, we do not think it difficult to prove that his conduct is eminently irrational. If, for example, he be one of those moderate Rationalists who admit (as thousands do) the miraculous and other evidence of the supernatural origin of the Gospel, and therefore also admit such and such doctrines to be true,--what can he reply, if further asked what reason he can have for accepting these truths and rejecting others which are supported by the very same evidence? How can he be sure that the truths he receives are established by evidence which, to all appearance, equally authenticates the falsehoods he rejects? Surely, as already said, this is to reject and accept evidence as he pleases. If, on the other hand, he says that he receives the miracles only to authenticate what he knows very well without them, and believes true on the information of reason alone, why trouble miracles and revelation at all? Is not this, according to the old proverb to 'take a hatchet to break an egg'?* ____ * If such a man says that he rejects certain doctrines, not on rationalistic grounds, but because he denies the canonical authority, or the interpretation of portions of the records in which they are found, and is willing to abide by the issue if the evidence on those points--evidence with which the human mind is quite competent to deal,--we answer, that he is not the man with whom we are now arguing. The points in dispute will be determined by the honest use of history, criticism, and philology. But between such a man and one who rejects Christianity altogether, we can imagine no consistent position. ____ Nor can we disguise from ourselves, indeed, that consistency in the application of the essential principle of Rationalism would compel us to go a few steps further; for since, as Bishop Butler has shown, no greater difficulties (if so great) attach to the page of Revelation than to the volume of Nature itself,--especially those which are involved in that dread enigma, 'the origin of evil,' compared with which all other enigmas are trifles,--that abyss into which so many of the difficulties of all theology, natural and revealed, at last disembogue themselves,--we feel that the admission of the principle of Rationalism would ultimately drive us, not only to reject Christianity, but to reject Theism in all its forms, whether Monotheism, or Pantheism, and even positive or dogmatic Atheism itself. Nor could we stop, indeed, till we had arrived at that absolute pyrrhonism which consists, if such a thing be possible, in the negation of all belief,--even to the belief that we do not believe! But though the objections to the reception of Christianity are numerous, and some insoluble, the question always returns, whether they over balance the mass of the evidence in its favour? nor is it to be forgotten that they are susceptible of indefinite alleviation as time rolls on; and with a few observations on this point we will close the present article. A refinement of modern philosophy often leads our rationalist to speak depreciatingly, if not contemptuously, of what he calls a stereotyped revelation--revelation in a book. It ties down, he is fond of saying, the spirit to the letter; and limits the 'progress' and 'development' of the human mind in its 'free' pursuit of truth. The answer we should be disposed to make is, first, that if a book does contain truth, the sooner that truth is stereotyped the better; secondly, that if such book, like the book of Nature, or, as we deem, the book of Revelation, really contains truth, its study, so far from being incompatible with the spirit of free inquiry, will invite and repay continual efforts more completely to understand it. Though the great and fundamental truths contained in either volume will be obvious in proportion to their importance and necessity, there is no limit to be placed on the degree of accuracy with which the truths they severally contain may be deciphered, stated, adjusted--or even on the period in which fragments of new truth shall cease to be elicited. It is true indeed that theology cannot be said to admit of unlimited progress, in the same sense as chemistry--which may, for aught we know, treble or quadruple its present accumulations, vast as they are, both in bulk and importance. But, even in theology as deduced from the Scripture, minute fragments of new truth, or more exact adjustments of old truth, may be perpetually expected. Lastly, we shall reply, that the objection to a revelation's being consigned to a 'book' is singularly inapposite, considering that by the constitution of the world and of human nature, man, without books,--without the power of recording, transmitting, and perpetuating thought, of rendering it permanent and diffusive, ever is, ever has been, and ever must be little better than a savage; and therefore, if there was to be a revelation at all, it might fairly be expected that it would be communicated in this form; thus affording us one more analogy, in addition to the many which Butler has stated, and which may in time be multiplied without end, between 'Revealed Religion and the Constitution and Course of Nature.' And this leads us to notice a saying of that comprehensive genius, which we do not recollect having seen quoted in connexion with recent controversies, but which is well worthy of being borne in mind, as teaching us to beware of hastily assuming that objections to Revelation, whether suggested by the progress of science, or from the supposed incongruity of its own contents, are unanswerable. We are not, he says, rashly to suppose that we have arrived at the true meaning of the whole of that book. 'It is not at all incredible that a book which has been so long in the possession of mankind, should contain many truths as yet undiscerned. For all the same phenomena and the same faculties of investigation, from which such great discoveries in natural knowledge have been made in the present and last age, were equally in the possession of mankind several thousand year's before.' These words are worthy of Butler: and as many illustrations of their truth have been supplied since his day, so many others may fairly be anticipated in the course of time. Several distinct species of argument for the truth of Christianity from the very structure and contents of the books containing it have been invented--of which Paley's 'Horae Paulinae' is a memorable example. The diligent collation of the text, too, has removed many difficulties; the diligent study of the original languages of ancient history, manners and customs, has cleared up many more; and by supplying proof of accuracy where error of falsehood had been charged, has supplied important additions to the evidence which substantiates the truth of Revelation. Against the alleged absurdity of the laws of Moses, again, such works as that of Micholis have disclosed much of that relative wisdom which aims not at the abstractedly best, but the best which a given condition of humanity, a given period of the world's history, and a given purpose could dictate. In pondering such difficulties as still remain in those laws, we may remember the answer of Solon to the question, whether he had given the Athenians the best laws; viz. that he had given them the best of which they were capable: or the judgment of the illustrious Montesquieu, who remarks, 'When Divine Wisdom said to the Jews, "I have given you precepts which are not good," this signifies that they had only a relative goodness: and this is the sponge which wipes out all the difficulties which are to be found in the laws of Moses.' This is a truth which we are persuaded a profound philosophy will understand the better the more deeply it is revolved; and only those legislative pedants will refuse weight to it, who would venturously propose to give New Zealanders and Hottentots, in the starkness of their savage ignorance, the complex forms of the British constitution. In similar manner, many of the old objections of our deistical writers have ceased to be heard of in our day, unless it be from the lips of the veriest sciolism; the objections, for instance, of that truly pedantic philosophy which once argued that ethical and religious truth are not given in the Scripture in a system such as a schoolman might have digested it into; as if the brief iteration and varied illustration of pregnant truth, intermingled with narrative, parable, and example, were not infinitely better adapted to the condition of the human intellect in general! For similar reasons, the old objection, that statements of Christian morality are given without the requisite limitations, and cannot be literally acted upon, has been long since abandoned as an absurdity. It is granted that a hundred folios could not contain the hundredth part of all the limitations of human actions, and all the possible cases of a contentious casuistry; and it is also granted that human nature is not so inept as to be incapable of interpreting and limiting for itself such rules as 'Whatsoever ye would that men should do to you, do ye even so to them.' In the same manner have many of the objections suggested at different periods by the progress of science been dissolved; and, amongst the rest, those alleged from the remote historic antiquity of certain nations on which infidels, like Volney and Voltaire, once so confidently relied. And it is worthy of remark, that some of the old objections of philosophers have disappeared by the aid of that very science--geology--which has led, as every new branch of science probably will, to new ones. Geology has, however, in our judgment, done at least as much already to remove difficulties as to occasion them; and it is not illogical, or perhaps unfair, to surmise that, we will only have patience, its own difficulties, as those of so many other branches of science, will be eventually solved. One thing is clear,--that, if the Bible be true and geology be true, that cannot be geologically true which is scripturally false, or vice versa; and we may therefore laugh at the polite compromise which is sometimes affected by learned professors of theology and geology respectively. All we demand of either--all that is needed--is, that they refrain from a too hasty conclusion of absolute contradictions between their respective sciences, and retain quiet remembrance of the imperfection of our present knowledge both of geology and, as Butler says, of the Bible. The recent interpretation of the commencement of Genesis--by which the first verse is simply supposed to affirm the original creation of all things, while the second immediately refers to the commencement of the human economy; passing by those prodigious cycles which geology demands, with a silence worthy of a true revelation, which does not pretend to gratify our curiosity as to the previous condition of our globe any more than our curiosity as to the history of other worlds--was first suggested by geology, though suspected and indeed anticipated by some of the early church Fathers. But it is now felt by multitudes to be the more reasonable interpretation,--the second verse certainly more naturally suggesting previous revolutions in the history of the earth than its then instant creation: and though we frankly concede that we have not yet seen any account of the whole first chapter of Genesis which quadrates with the doctrines of geology, it does not become us hastily to conclude that there can be none. If a further adjustment of those doctrines, and a more diligent investigation of the Scripture together, should hereafter suggest any possible harmony,--though not the true one but one ever so gratuitously assumed,--it will be sufficient to neutralise the objection. This, it will be observed, is in accordance with what has been already shown,--that wherever an objection is founded on an apparent contradiction between two statements, it is sufficient to show any possible way in which the statements may be reconciled, whether the true one or not. The objection, in that case, to the supposition that the facts are gratuitously assumed, though often urged, is, in reality, nothing to the purpose.* If it should ever be shown, for example, that supposing as many geological eras as the philosopher requires to have passed in the chasm between the first verse, which asserts the original dependence of all things on the fiat of the Creator, and the second, which is supposed to commence the human era, any imaginable condition of our system--at the close, so to speak, of a given geological period--would harmonise with a fair interpretation of the first chapter or Genesis, the objection will be neutralised. ____ * Some admirable remarks in relation to the answers we are bound to give to objections to revealed religion have been made by Leibnitz (in reply to Bayle) in the little tract prefixed to his Theodicee, entitled 'De la Conformite de la Foi avec la Raison.' He there shows that the utmost that can fairly be asked is, to prove that the affirmed truths involve no necessary contradiction. ____ We have little doubt in our own minds that the ultimately converging though, it may be, transiently discrepant conclusions of the sciences of philology, ethnology, and geology (in all of which we may rest assured great discoveries are yet to be made) will tend to harmonise with the ultimate results of a more thorough study of the records of the race as contained in the book of Revelation. Let us be permitted to imagine one example of such possible harmony. We think that the philologist may engage to make out, on the strictest principles of induction, from the tenacity with which all communities cling to their language, and the slow observed rate of change by which they alter; by which Anglo-Saxon, for example has become English*, Latin Italian, and ancient Greek modern (though these languages have been affected by every conceivable cause of variation and depravation); that it would require hundreds of thousands, nay millions, of years to account for the production, by known natural causes, of the vast multitude of totally distinct languages, and tens of thousands of dialects, which man now utters. On the other hand, the geologist is more and more persuaded of comparatively recent origin of the human race. What, then, is to harmonise these conflicting statements? Will it not be curious if it should turn out that nothing can possibly harmonise them but the statement of Genesis, that in order to prevent the natural tendency of the race to accumulate on one spot and facilitate their dispersion and destined occupancy of the globe, a preternatural intervention expedited the operation of the causes which would gradually have given birth to distinct languages? Of the probability of this intervention, some profound philologist have, on scientific grounds alone, expressed their conviction. But in all such matters, what we plead for is only--patience; we wish not to dogmatise; all we ask is, a philosophic abstinence from dogmatism. In relation to many difficulties, what is now a reasonable exercise of faith may one day be rewarded by a knowledge which on those particular points may terminate it. And, in such ways, it is surely conceivable that a great part of the objections against Revelation may, in time, disappear; and, though other objections may be the result of the progress of the other sciences or the origination of new, the solution of previous objections, together with the additions to the evidences of Christianity, external and internal, which the study of history and of the Scriptures may supply, and the still brighter light cast by the progress of Christianity and the fulfilment of its prophecies, may inspire increasing confidence that the new objections are also destined to yield to similar solvents. Meanwhile, such new difficulties, and those more awful and gigantic shadows which we have no reason to believe will ever be chased from the sacred page,--mysteries which probably could not be explained from the necessary limitation of our faculties, and are, at all events, submitted to us as a salutary discipline of our humility,--will continue to form that exercise of faith which is probably nearly equal in every age--and necessary in all ages, if we would be made 'little children,' qualified 'to enter the kingdom of God.' ____ + It contains, let us recollect, (after all causes of changes, including a conquest, have been at work upon it,) a vast majority of the Saxon words spoken in the time of Alfred--nearly a thousand years ago! ____ In conclusion we may remark, that while many are proclaiming that Christianity is effete, and that, in the language of Mr. Proudhon (who complacently says it amidst the ignominious failure of a thousand social panaceas or his own age and country), it will certainly 'die out in about three hundred years;' and while many more proclaim that, as a religion of supernatural origin and supernatural evidence, it is already dying, if not dead; we must beg leave to remind them that, even if 'Christianity be false, as they allege, they are utterly forgetting the maxims of a cautious induction in saying that it will therefore cease to exert dominion over mankind. What proof is there of this? Whether true or false, it has already survived numberless revolutions of human opinions, and all sorts of changes and assaults. It is not confined, like other religions, to any one race--to any one clime--or any one form of political constitution. While it transmigrates freely from race to race, and clime to clime, its chief home; too, is still in the bosom of enterprise, wealth, science, and civilisation; and it is at this moment most powerful amongst the nations that have most of these. If not true, it has such an appearance of truth as to have satisfied many of the acutest and most powerful intellects of the species;--a Bacon, a Pascal, a Leibnitz, a Locke, a Newton, a Butler;--such an appearance of truth as to have enlisted in its support an immense army of genius and learning: genius and learning, not only in some sense professional, and often wrongfully represented as therefore interested, but much of both, strictly extra-professional; animated to its defence by nothing but a conviction of the force of the arguments by which its truth is sustained, and that 'hope full of immortality' which its promises have inspired. Under such circumstances it must appear equally rash and gratuitous to suppose, even if it be a delusion, that an institute, which has thus enlisted the sympathies of so many of the greatest minds of all races and of all ages--which is alone stable and progressive amidst instability and fluctuation,--will soon come to an end. Still more absurdly premature is it to raise a paean over its fall, upon every new attack upon it, when it has already survived so many. This, in fact, is a tone which, though every age renews it, should long since have been rebuked by the constant falsification of similar prophecies, from the time of Julian to the time of Bolingbroke, and from the time of Bolingbroke to the time of Strauss. As Addison, we think, humorously tells the Atheist, that he is hasty in his logic when he infers that if there be no God, immortality must be a delusion, since, if chance has actually found him a place in this bad world, it may, perchance, hereafter find him another place in a worse,---so we say, that if Christianity be a delusion, since it is a delusion which has been proof against so much of bitter opposition, and has imposed upon such hosts of mighty intellects, these is nothing to show that it will not do so still, in spite of the efforts either of Proudhon or a Strauss. Such a tone was, perhaps, never so triumphant as during the heat of the Deistical controversy in our own country, and to which Butler alludes with so much characteristic but deeply satirical simplicity, in the preface to his great work:--'It is come,' says he, 'I know not how, to be taken for granted by many persons that Christianity is not so much a subject of inquiry, but that it is now at length discovered to be fictitious .... On the contrary, thus much at least will here be found, not taken for granted, but proved, that any reasonable man, who will thoroughly consider the matter, may be as much assured as he is of his own being, that it is not, however, so clear that there is nothing in it.' The Christian, we conceive, may now say the same to the Froudes, and Foxtons, and to much more formidable adversaries of the present day. Christianity, we doubt not, will still live, when they and their works, and the refutations of their works, are alike forgotten; and a new series of attacks and defences shall have occupied for a while (as so many others have done) the attention of the world. Christianity, like Rome, has had both the Gaul and Hannibal at her gates: But as the 'Eternal City' in the latter case calmly offered for sale, and sold, at an undepreciated price, the very ground on which the Carthaginian had fixed his camp, with equal calmness may Christianity imitate her example of magnanimity. She may feel assured that, as in so many past instances of premature triumph on the part of her enemies, the ground they occupy will one day be its own; that the very discoveries, apparently hostile, of science and philosophy, will be a great extent with the discoveries in chronology and history; and thus will it be, we are confident, (and to a certain extent has been already), with those in geology. That science has done much, not only to render the old theories of Atheism untenable and to familiarise the minds of men to the idea of miracles, by that of successive creations, but to confirm the Scriptural statement of the comparatively recent origin of our Race. Only the men of science and the men of theology must alike Guard against the besetting fallacy of their kind,--that of too hastily taking for granted that they already know the whole of their respective sciences, and of forgetting the declaration of the Apostle, equally true of all man's attainments, whether in one department of science or another,--'We know but in part, and we prophesy in part.' Though Socrates perhaps expressed himself too absolutely when he said that 'he only knew nothing,' yet a tinge of the same spirit,--a deep conviction of the profound ignorance of the human mind, even at its best--has ever been a characteristic of the most comprehensive genius. It has been a topic on which it has been fond of mournfully dilating. It is thus with Socrates, with Plato, with Bacon (even amidst all his magnificent aspirations and bold predictions), with Newton, with Pascal, and especially with Butler, in whom, if in any, the sentiment is carried to excess. We need not say that it is seldom found in the writings of those modern speculators who rush, in the hardihood of their adventurous logic, on a solution of the problems of the Absolute and the Infinite, and resolve in delightfully brief demonstrations the mightiest problems of the universe--those great enigmas, from which true philosophy shrinks, not because it has never ventured to think of them, but because it has thought of them enough to know that it is in vain to attempt their solution. To know the limits of human philosophy is the 'better part' of all philosophy; and though the conviction of our ignorance is humiliating, it is, like every true conviction, salutary. Amidst this night of the soul, bright stars--far distant fountains of illumination--are wont to steal out, which shine not while the imagined Sun of reason is above the horizon! and it is in that night, as in the darkness of outward nature, that we gain our only true ideas of the illimitable dimensions of the universe, and of our true position in it. Meanwhile we conclude that God has created 'two great lights,'--the greater light to rule man's busy day--and that is Reason, and the lesser to rule his contemplative night--and that is Faith. But faith itself shines only so long as she reflects some faint Illumination from the brighter orb. 
15861	----	Proofreading Team. The Things Which Remain _An Address To Young Ministers_ By DANIEL A. GOODSELL A Bishop of the Methodist Episcopal Church _CINCINNATI: JENNINGS & PYE_ _NEW YORK: EATON & MAINS_ _Copyright, 1904, by_ JENNINGS AND PYE PREFACE This little book contains the larger part of an address I have delivered at several Annual Conferences on the occasion of the admission of probationary ministers into full membership. At the suggestion of some who have heard it when delivered and whose assurance that it would be useful in print I am bound to respect, I have consented to its publication. Matter not directly relating to the theme, but of sufficient importance to accompany it in addressing an Annual Conference, is here omitted, that all possible space might be given to the discussion of the question, "How much Christian doctrine will still remain, though much of the most radical criticism be accepted?" Preface It will be understood that concessions made for the sake of the argument by no means represent my own views of that which must be ultimately yielded to the critical spirit. Already some opinions which threatened the authority of Gospels and Epistles, and which have had wide acceptance, have been modified or withdrawn. My aim in this address was not to scout criticism, from which much of the highest value to faith is to come, but to steady the wavering young minister; to sustain his preaching power by helping him to a definite message, and to encourage him to a slow and guarded acceptance of critical opinions destructive of "the faith once delivered to the saints." CHATTANOOGA, TENN., December, 1903. The Things Which Remain The followers of Him who said "I am the Truth" can never afford to hold or propagate that which is false. No man can preach with power unless he strongly believes. Teaching force depends on Faith. [Sidenote: Doing and Knowing.] [Sidenote: The Divine Call.] [Sidenote: Conditions of the Call.] Thus far our ministry has had teaching power because it has been founded on and inspired by a Christian experience. Our Church has always emphasized that essential Christian statement, "If ye do ye shall know." At every ordination we have demanded of every candidate a declaration of his persuasion that he was "called according to the will of our Lord Jesus Christ" to the particular office to which he was then to be advanced. By this we do not mean a mediate call through the order of the Church or the judgment of the Bishop, but an immediate call by the Holy Spirit from Christ Himself. This call is antedated by that personal surrender to Jesus Christ; that blessed acceptance by Him of the self-surrendered; that witnessing Spirit as to sonship which brings the consciousness of pardon, renewal, and justification known as "a religious experience." [Sidenote: Evidence of the Call.] Those who possess this know something. Whereas they were "once blind, now they see." They know they have "passed from darkness to light" through the changed love which now controls. However the persuasion reached them, it is a persuasion; not merely a hope. It is a conclusion borne in upon them by satisfactory evidence, and is a lasting certainty while the faith which brought it abides in its original measure. Thus to-day we have a pulpit substantially in doctrine and force what our pulpit always has been. Even in some cases where doubt has entered, it would appear that this Christian experience has steadied the wavering head by the full and regular impulses of the believing heart. [Sidenote: New Problems in Theology.] [Sidenote: The Modern Skeptical Temper.] It is, however, to be admitted that the years to which we have come bring with them problems which our fathers did not have to solve. Doubts of which they knew nothing throng our atmosphere and crowd upon our consciousness. The attacks on Christianity are no longer the ribald jeers of the unlovely and the vile. They come in the name of honest investigation, historical veracity, and scientific accuracy; and are projected by characters apparently truth-loving, reverent, and candid. [Sidenote: The Sources of Advanced Criticism.] This may be said for most of them, but on occasion it is hard to believe that all the German critics are wholly and exclusively truth-loving and candid. So extreme are the positions of some, so evidently tinctured with overreadiness for criticism and unbelief, that they must be excluded from the "most" above described. I speak of the Germans because they, chiefly, are those capable and active in original research. Most of our American "advanced critics" are merely translators and adapters of German work. Their volumes add nothing to the controversy to those who know the German originals. Not a few Americans have obtained reputation by the expansion of the note books they made at the feet of German professors. [Sidenote: The English Disciples of the German School.] [Sidenote: Love of Novelty.] This also is largely true of the English critics. Many of them are well furnished for Greek criticism. The number of Greek Englishmen is still very large. But these seem also to fortify, at least, their own conclusions by the opinions of the original German investigators. It is hard to believe that, in the contests for German professorial position, as well as in the justification of the incumbent when the position is gained, the desire to attract attention by some critical novelty of method or result has not been in some cases, at least, as influential as a simple love of truth. [Sidenote: Some Questions as to Style.] There is always the question also, which I profess seems to be one not easy of answer, whether the literary judgments as to style when men are dealing with another language than their own, and especially with Greek and Hebrew, can be as worthy of acceptance as their authors and many others hold them to be; whether, in short, their opinions may not, like those of experts in handwriting, come to be so colored by their personality, or their interests, as to be of little evidential value. On this point it seems to me that not enough allowance has been made by these critics for the difference in style when men write familiarly or didactically, or when they are engaged in narration or exhortation. [Sidenote: Foundation of Belief Unsettled.] Whatever may be the truth as to these matters, the present state of faith is due to the unsettlement of the foundation of belief by scientific and critical scholarship. [Sidenote: A New Foundation to Emerge.] This unsettlement, admitted on every hand with difference of opinion as to extent, is either to increase until faith in Christianity, except as an ethical and humanitarian system, is dead, or abide until faith revives by a perception that the Church has maintained an erroneous basis for faith and that a new and stronger one is emerging from the sea of discussion. This last I believe to be the truth in the matter. I hold, therefore, that faith is not dying, but suffering in some minds from a kind of lunar eclipse, where a shadow diminishes, temporarily, the radiance, but does not extinguish the planet itself. [Sidenote: The Authority of the Scriptures Weakened.] When we ask what foundation is weakened, the answer is: The authority of the Scriptures as the sole rule of faith and practice. Some claim that only a few of the books are genuine and almost none authentic. If this is to be the final judgment of the learned and the sincere, it is plain that we must seek another foundation for faith than the word of Scripture. It is no more a "Thus saith the Lord" for us. [Sidenote: Critics not yet Agreed.] [Sidenote: Archæology and the Bible.] [Sidenote: Personal Standpoints.] But we are very far from seeing that final agreement among the critics which warrants us in discarding a single book. If any one has been fought about, and fought over, it is the Gospel of John. "It used to be said that this was not a history at all, but an idealizing of tradition in the interest of a speculative idea;[1] now theologians are mostly agreed that if John is the most speculative, he is, at the same time, the most personal of New Testament writers." No other book has been finally overthrown. Archæology has confirmed Paul, and also some Old Testament writers, especially those who speak of widely separated settlements of the Hittites. I get a strong impression that the New Testament writers are sometimes attacked because they teach what the critics do not wish to believe. Thus it would appear that Harnack scouts the early chapters of Matthew and Luke because he doubts the virgin birth, and would hold that belief therein is no part in authority or value of the Christian religion. [Footnote 1: Denney. Studies in Theology.] [Sidenote: Bible Appeal for Verification.] [Sidenote: Gracious Ability.] [Sidenote: Huxley's Passionless Impersonality.] [Sidenote: Gracious Conditions for Belief.] [Sidenote: Ethical Conditions for Faith.] I now wish to declare my own confidence that the verification of the truths contained in the New Testament was never intended to rest upon an absolutely inerrant record or on an inspiration which dictated to a personality rather than expressed itself through a personality. The Bible presupposes a power in man to test and verify its statements and doctrines. It makes its appeal to this steadily from the earlier books to the later; the appeal growing in content as the soul has developed its power of recognition. This is the familiar law of knowing and doing, of proving by practice, of perceiving the leadership of Jesus Christ through the leading of the Holy Ghost. As to doctrine, there is left in man the power to make the beginning of a faith. On this beginning devotion builds a belief in the greater mysteries. Thus reason deduces a First Cause, then the unity of the First Cause. This is as far as reason can go. Huxley, looking out on the universe with this power, said: "There is an impassable gulf between anthropomorphism, however refined and the passionless impersonality underlying the thin veil of phenomena. I can not see one tittle of evidence that the great unknown stands to us in the light of a Father." Nor could he. Religious truth is conditioned in a way in which the apprehension of physical truth is not. There must be a certain condition of the heart, conscience, and will to see the truth of the Godhead of Christ. One may resist this evidence.[2] Only a living Christian is competent to look at the subject--"unto you it is given to know the mysteries of the kingdom of God." In physics "nothing is needed but open eyes and a sound understanding."[3] Moral character has nothing to do with it, except as vice may affect vision and deteriorate the judgment. But in a soul's relation to the Christian religion, the ethical element is that which is fundamental. "The pure in heart shall see God." The foul soul has no vision for the eternal purities. In the days of idolatry "there was no open vision." So in the heart of sin there is no light of spiritual truth. The higher verities appear fully founded to the Christian consciousness only. [Footnote 2: Cf. Denney.] [Footnote 3: Cf. Denney.] [Sidenote: Natural Ethical Canon.] Yet, let us remember that below this Christian consciousness lie the substrata of reason and ethical canon common to all men. Religious truth rests on these in its first revelations. Above the first and simplest revelation, truth rests on Christian experience as to those matters for which reason and natural ethical canon are insufficient. [Sidenote: General Calm of Methodist Episcopal Church.] [Sidenote: Wesley's Advanced Views.] This having been the teaching of the Methodist Episcopal Church from the beginning, she has been little disturbed by the critical school. While holding that the Bible is the sole rule of faith, she has not committed herself to any one theory of inspiration. She has not believed the Scriptures because they are written, but, being written, she has found them true. She has believed in the supernatural power of the Gospel because in her sight its leaven has wrought in the individual and in society what it claims for itself. John Wesley believed that there were God-breathed teachings outside of the Bible. He believed this because of his feeling that the Divine Fatherhood must have spoken to other than His Jewish children. Inheriting from our founder these thoughts, we have kept a high degree of calm in these later days of inquiry and doubt. [Sidenote: Wide Range of Unbelief.] [Sidenote: Natural Immortality.] [Sidenote: Reward and Punishments.] We have already admitted that the present tendency to unbelief has wider range and fresher foundations than our fathers knew. The belief in the natural immortality of the human soul whether of Platonic or Christian origin is shaken to an extent not known in a century. The doubts of Huxley, the denials of Hæckel had a purely scientific basis. The suspension of consciousness by sleep, by accident, by drugs, the decay of mind by old age and by disease are freely put forth as proofs that mind can not exist without the mechanism which supports and manifests it. If this last be true a doctrine fundamental to Christianity must be abandoned. The doctrine of immortality through Christ does not meet the new objections. The scheme of redemption and the doctrine of future rewards and punishments are involved in the fate of the doctrine of natural immortality. We have thus shadows of doubt thrown upon two great doctrines, the virgin birth of Christ and natural immortality. The miracles, Resurrection, and Ascension must be added to the shadowed list. [Sidenote: Some Influential Facts.] [Sidenote: A Great Mistake.] [Sidenote: Doctored Heathenism.] Whatever relation the fact may have as a cause, it is noteworthy that as to time, this new era of doubt largely coincides as to its beginning with the movement to revise the New Testament. The variations of the manuscripts, the interpretations, the comparatively late date of the oldest manuscripts were before this in possession of scholars only. The daily press have made them the possession of the Christian world. The shock to traditional confidence through this was very great. The Congress of Religions at Chicago had a similar effect. The mistaken liberality which permitted Christianity to appear on the same platform with the ethnic and imperfect religions contributed largely to doctrinal indifference. The taking and uncandid misrepresentations of these religions convinced many that there was at least no better foundation for Christianity and no better content therein than for and in the false and imperfect faiths. Many of these were defended by men who had had an English education and had come into contact with Christian vocabulary and civilization. They did not hesitate to read into these religions ideas wholly Christian and wholly foreign to the original teachings. [Sidenote: What Remains?] These and other considerations lead me to ask what remains that we may and do believe? While far from admitting as finally proved the radical conclusions reached by some as to authorship and inspiration of the Bible and Divine authority for doctrines deduced therefrom, it must be profitable for us to ask, "What remains if some of these conclusions stand?" Recall that I do not admit all these for a moment, or any of them as final. Some are probably true. But taking the worst and most iconoclastic as true, are we compelled even then to surrender our Christian faith? [Sidenote: The Apostles' Creed.] Let us take the separate articles of the Apostles' Creed and see how they stand affected: [Sidenote: The Fatherhood of God.] "I believe in God the Father Almighty, Maker of heaven and earth." [Sidenote: A Christian God.] Surely this remains untouched and in full force. Huxley, to requote what has before been quoted, says: "I can not see one tittle of evidence that the great unknown stands to us in the light of a Father." What a contradiction is here! He knows that the great unknown can not be proved to be our Father. Then he must know of the great unknown the negative aspects so minutely as to be sure that no Fatherhood is in the great unknown. Then he knows the great unknown much better than he is willing to admit, better than an agnostic ought. [Sidenote: An All Pervasive Spirit.] [Sidenote: His Commandments.] [Sidenote: The Divine Ideal.] Yet that the idea of God may remain in power and not as a "passionless impersonality," it must be less interpreted by the teachings of Moses and more by the teachings of Christ. Human tempers and passions must be eliminated from our Divine Ideal. He must not be made an angry and jealous God as men count these. He must not be thought of as a vindictive personality, never so well pleased as when scaring His children into panic. In the thought of the Church He will be an all-pervasive Spirit whose nature is unfolded by the universe He has made. In that universe He will be felt to be immanent as the power of development, order, and destiny. All ages show Him to be "the power which makes for righteousness." The commandments are not only His because they are found in the Bible, but because they are perceived to be necessary laws of conduct proceeding from such a Being as we know God to be for such beings as we know men to be. Thus we perceive them to be the Divinely authorized bond of society and the guarantee and obligation of the Divine Ideal of humanity. All nature and all history are scrutinized for traces of the Supreme. These being found to coincide with the Christian Revelation of Him, men will read with new reverence those wonderful books which make up the Book, and which beyond all others anticipate the latest results of scientific inquiry and natural ethical canon. [Sidenote: Advantage of Newer View.] Out of this will come such a sense of the Divine Presence as the Church and the individual Christian have not hitherto known. Moral distance from God will be the only distance. "In Him we live and move and have our being" comes to full interpretation through this thought of God. Humanity is immersed in Him. [Sidenote: Transcendent.] [Sidenote: Huxley Against Hume.] But this immanent God is also seen to be transcendent. He is in nature and far beyond it. Vast as nature is, it is limited. God is the unlimited. Within this region of transcendence is room for all His gracious activities as distinguished from His natural activities; room for marvel and miracle if He will and we need. When Huxley abandons Hume's _a priori_ argument against miracles it is not worth while for others to use it. Fewer doubt the existence of a God, I believe, than at any time since men sought to prove that He does not exist. The Fatherly in God is proved both by His work in nature and by those works of grace which the student of nature alone can not see. God is a spirit. The human spirit refined, purified, sees Him in proportion to its purification. [Sidenote: Modern Christology.] [Sidenote: Former Limitations.] [Sidenote: Ritual Statement.] [Sidenote: Aim of Christianity.] [Sidenote: Likeness to God.] In respect of "Jesus Christ, His only Son our Lord," it may, it must, be said He remains in full and glorious vigor as the Redeemer of mankind. The marked difference between our time and a half-century ago with respect to Christ is in the extension, rather than the diminution of His relation to salvation and the extension of the idea of salvation itself. In the former days men's eyes were almost wholly fixed on His death and its relation to salvation in the future life. Seldom indeed was the value of the following text taken into consideration: "For if when we were enemies we were reconciled to God by the death of His Son, much more being reconciled we shall be saved by His life." There is less disposition to dogmatize as to theories of the atonement. Most, I think, come to feel that no one view contains the full significance of Christ's death. Have you noticed how the Ritual puts it in the order of the Lord's Supper? "Didst give Thine only Son Jesus Christ to suffer death upon the cross for our Redemption; who made there [on the cross] by His oblation of Himself once offered a full, perfect, and sufficient sacrifice, oblation, and satisfaction for the sins of the whole world." The men who wrote that struggled to interpret His death by every possible phase of its meaning. In our time we have come to see that the aim of Christ and Christianity is to develop character and that this must be gained in time that we may be ready for eternity. Thus the death of Christ as the ultimate of self-sacrifice persuades us to the death of sin in us that we may live renewed in God; "rise from our dead selves to higher things." His life persuades us as the condition and example of growth to move on from the first self-surrender into the habit and fact of constant obedience and therefore "into the likeness of God's dear Son." The consciousness, well-nigh universal, of the nobility of self-sacrifice is that which gives vitality and vogue among the masses to the doctrine of the atonement. Self-sacrifice becomes more rare as wealth and refinement modify men and women. He that has much is loath to lose or leave it. Hence the rich generally fight in security. The poor meet the bullets first. Bad as is the conduct of some trades-unionists, it is among these toilers that great deeds of sympathy and generosity are done. How they tax themselves to help each other! How their women work for each other when one is unable to care for herself or her children! Their doctrine that "an injury to one is a wrong to all" has much that is Christlike in it. Let us who believe in an atoning Christ rejoice that as long as men honor bravery--self-sacrifice unto death for country, home, or the life of dear ones; as long as they build monuments to generals, soldiers, firemen, physicians who die for others, so will the world be slow to disbelieve the doctrine that "Jesus Christ tasted death for every man." [Sidenote: John's Logos.] [Sidenote: An Anthropomorphic God.] More, too, is made of His life before the Incarnation. The pre-existence of Christ is an essential element in Christianity. "His eternal relation to God is the only way of conceiving Him which answers to His real greatness."[4] The Christ was present and active in the creation. John's use of the word "Logos" is right. "Logos" is not merely a result but a Force. It is not only the speech, but the speaker. Let us admit once for all that the fact, much belabored of the critics, is a fact. Let us not be afraid of the word which expresses it. God must be anthropomorphic if He exists. We can come nowhere near to thinking out any other kind of God. Christ has the value of God to devout Christians because in the fullness of His moral perfections He expresses God so far as we can know Him and man so far as man can hope and grow. [Footnote 4: Denney. Studies in Theology.] [Sidenote: How Son of God.] Is His Sonship different from ours, or only an expansion of the fullness and perfection of our sonship? This last seems to me a most important question. If He was born as we were born--that is, as to the beginning of His earthly life, there can be no pre-eminent sense in which He was the Son of God. He was either a happy accident of natural birth or a "sport" in evolution. [Sidenote: The Virgin Birth.] This brings us to that doctrine which is the greatest challenge to the doubter: "Conceived by the Holy Ghost; born of the Virgin Mary,"--a doctrine fiercely fought by Harnack and yet by no means to be dismissed as he dismisses it. His teaching on this point seems to me the result of his theory of Christianity. If one seeks to rid Christianity of the supernatural, here is the place to begin. [Sidenote: Dignity of the Story.] [Sidenote: A Greater Puzzle.] But who will not feel the force of the position that, granted God was to be incarnate, the story of Christ's incarnation is the noblest and most probable? He is not born of a man's lust nor of a woman's desire--but of the submission of untainted womanhood to the direct creative power of God. The alternative to this is the Divinest man in all the world born of sinning and not yet married parents. If the new doctrine of heredity be true that men may inherit good as well as evil, we still have an astounding fact to account for; namely, the birth of such a child from such conditions, that is, with all the good kept in and all the bad left out. [Sidenote: Parthenogenesis a Fact.] When men speak of a virgin birth as incredible and impossible and as the weakest of all Christian doctrine, do they know or have they forgotten that parthenogenesis (virgin birth) is a fact in nature; existing, for example, in as highly organized insects as the honey bee? There are other insects which are parthenogenetic at one time and sexually productive at another. There are also hints of it in human life known to anatomists which can not be fully discussed here. [Sidenote: Among the Bees.] [Sidenote: A Small Departure from Nature.] The virgin queen bee produces males in abundance, but can not produce females until she has made her nuptial flight and met her mate in an embrace invariably fatal to him. Nor does she ever need to meet another. From that time on, she is the fruitful mother of every kind of bee life the hive needs; the undeveloped females called neuters and those who become queens by being fed on royal food. Virgin birth is therefore imbedded in nature's order. To occur in the human species nature need call in no novelty. Christ, if born of a virgin, was born with the smallest possible departure from the order of nature. A process known in a lower form of life was carried into the higher to produce the unique being called for by the spiritual needs of mankind. * * * * * [Sidenote: The Historical Statement.] Passing over the historical assertions which follow the doctrine of the virgin birth, "suffered under Pontius Pilate, was crucified, dead, and buried," because there is nothing in these statements difficult or incredible, we reach the doctrine of His resurrection, "the third day He rose from the dead," a doctrine next to that of the virgin birth in natural difficulty of acceptance. [Sidenote: Christ's Resurrection.] [Sidenote: Surprise of Disciples.] [Sidenote: The Fact Accounts for History.] Faith in this seems to me to depend on how far we have accepted Christ's Deity and His incarnation. If by the Holy Ghost we have been able "to say that Jesus is the Lord;" if by that blessed energy we perceive His Divine mastership; if by the same energy we feel that He has transformed us into the image of His dear Son; raising us "from the death of sin into the life of righteousness" it is not difficult to believe that Jesus "the power of the Resurrection" rose from the dead. "The fact of the Resurrection and belief in the fact is not explicable by any antecedent conditions apart from its truth."[5] The disciples did not expect what they saw. His death was for them so far as we can see, without hope. They were not able yet to interpret His prophecy that He would build again His temple, nor understand the spirituality of His kingdom. These facts seem to me utterly to demolish the theory of a vision called up by eager, yea, agonizing, expectation. The idea of the Resurrection justifies His prophecies as to Himself and the fact accounts, better than any theory which denies the fact, for the faith and founding of the early Church as well as for the course of subsequent history and of the believer's experience. [Footnote 5: Westcott. The Revelation of the Risen Lord.] * * * * * [Sidenote: Slow Belief in Resurrection.] It is much to see that belief became belief only with great difficulty. The idea of the Resurrection was strange and alarming to the disciples. "They were terrified and affrighted and supposed they beheld a spirit." Slowly by tests of sense as well as by persuasions of teaching did the disciples come to believe that the Christ of the Resurrection was the same Christ who suffered on the cross. [Sidenote: Not an Invention.] [Sidenote: An Eye-witness Story.] It seems impossible that the Resurrection could have been an invention or that the account of it could be a work of the imagination. The last is almost as great a miracle as the Resurrection itself. In detail, in naturalness, even in the presence of difficulties and hindrances to easy belief of the story, the narrative seems that of an eye-witness. No reasoning can bring faith, however, to one who denies the miraculous. As a fact, the Resurrection is incapable of naturalistic explanation. To those who deny the miraculous I can only again point out how Huxley cuts out the _a priori_ argument from Hume as worthless. As quoted in his biography, Huxley says: "We are not justified in the _a priori_ assertion that the order of nature, as experience has revealed it to us, can not change. The assumption is illegitimate because it involves the whole point in dispute." * * * * * [Sidenote: Ascent into Heaven.] [Sidenote: The Ascension.] [Sidenote: Nature not Wholly Love.] [Sidenote: Evil and Good.] Necessarily miraculous also is the doctrine, "He ascended into heaven." In this He passed from the visible into the invisible; from the conditions of human life to those of the life of a spirit; from the work of redemption to that of intercession. If His resurrection be accepted, His ascension presents no difficulties to faith. This, with His incarnation, and the facts of His earthly life are the manifestation of the tender side of God to the senses even as His wisdom and power are shown to the senses by the facts and laws of nature. As to the doctrine, "God is love," nature's word can never be conclusive. In the natural kingdom joy and sorrow, ease and pain, love and hate, kindness and cruelty, trust and terror exist side by side, as do life and death. No man concludes, from nature alone, that God is ruled by love. Because man can not conclude this, Ormuzd and Ahriman are found substantially in all religions, as in that of the Parsees, except in the Christian. Here the warfare is not to be eternal. The victory of good is to come. Divine help is promised, that it may be secured in every soul. The conquest of evil by good is within that Christian omnipotence which Paul knew. "I can do all things through Christ who strengtheneth me." It requires a Christ to show that the path to rest is through toil; that the way to ease is through suffering; that the highway to life passes through death. Only thus can "mortality be swallowed up of life." [Sidenote: The Meaning of Jesus.] [Sidenote: Christ as Revealer.] In the unity of the Godhead, Christ is God in manifestation, redemption, intercession, judgment. In the Trinity, in which we must believe God exists, Jesus Christ is the personality expressive, at first visibly and now invisibly, of the tender qualities of the Divine nature which, manifested in part in the world of nature, are there so linked with severity as to require special and peculiar revelation in the person of Jesus Christ in order that God may be understood both as transcending nature and as eternal love. * * * * * Surely the doctrine, "I believe in the Holy Ghost," will remain. It is a misfortune that the word "ghost" has, in our English use, an unworthy and terrifying significance. On this account it were well if we could substitute for constant use the word "Spirit." [Sidenote: The Holy Ghost.] [Sidenote: The Energy of God.] [Sidenote: The Interpreter.] The Holy Spirit is the energy of God, whether working as Creator or in the processes of redemption. It stirs us to the depths when we consider that the Author of the worlds, the Source of the energies is He who transforms, renews, sanctifies, and witnesses in us. There is no question as to the pervasiveness and competence of the Power which "works in us to will and to do of His good pleasure." We are taught to trace all our religious uplift to the highest possible source. We gather a great sense of our worth by the dignity of this association as we do of the condescension of our Lord in making His home in our hearts. This Holy Spirit is in all Christians the energy of the entire spiritual life. By this we do the things which by nature we can not do. His is that Divine impulse which initiates, continues, matures, and satisfies the life of God in us. It is the indwelling, all-pervading Holy Spirit, which interprets that great word, "I in them and Thou in Me, that they may be one as We are." [Sidenote: The Doctrine of Energy.] And if the most advanced philosophy should yet be confirmed as true that there is nothing really but energy, none the less would the doctrine of the Holy Spirit abide. Back of all the individual energies of humanity; back of all the forces of nature is the supreme energy of God. If creation be our theory, it is the Spirit of God which broods on the face of the waters. If evolution be our creed, it is "in Him we live and move and have our being." All science is but the knowing of His way of working, and all theology is but the discovery of His mind. To know Him is to know all things. The latest Christian will be saying, "I believe in the Holy Ghost." * * * * * [Sidenote: The Forgiveness of Sin.] [Sidenote: Huxley on Depravity.] [Sidenote: Not All Born Good.] [Sidenote: Experience of Hell.] And what becomes of the doctrine of the "forgiveness of sins" in this outlook for "the things which remain?" Accepting Huxley as the incarnation of the skeptical spirit of our time, I quote from him his thought of sin, depravity, and punishment, as a hint of where the scientific spirit may yet aid us. "The doctrine of predestination, of original sin, of the innate depravity of man, the evil fate of the greater part of the race, of the primacy of Satan in this world, of the essential vileness of matter, of a malevolent Demiurgos subordinate to a benevolent Almighty who has only lately revealed Himself, faulty as they are, appear to me to be vastly nearer the truth than the liberal, popular illusions that babies are all born good, and that the example of corrupt society is responsible for their failure to remain so.... That it is given to everybody to reach the ethical ideal if they will only try; that all partial evil is universal good; and other optimistic figments." "I suppose that all men with a clear sense of right and wrong have descended into hell and stopped there quite long enough to know what infinite punishment means." [Sidenote: Transmission of Evil.] Surely, the established truths of heredity confirm the doctrine that man, if not born depraved, is born _deprived_ of tendencies toward good essential to his own welfare and that of the race. "Where sin has once taken hold of the race, the natural reproduction of life become reproduction of life morally injured and faulty. With evil once begun, the race is a succession of tainted individuals; an organism that works toward continuance of evil. Not but that good is transmitted at the same time, for it goes along with evil. Any virtue or value which is strong enough to live will pass from generation to generation even while evil is making the same journey."[6] [Footnote 6: Outline of Christian Theology. Clarke, p. 242.] [Sidenote: Depravation and Deprivation.] [Sidenote: Natural Standards.] [Sidenote: The Decalogue.] While we hold that this tendency, this natural sluggishness in laying hold of the things of the higher nature is not in itself guilt, it becomes so by the voluntary adoption of the lower forces as the guide of life. Nature has her own decalogue. There is a law written upon our hearts. The wasting of power by anger, jealousy, envy, covetousness and the like, and the degradation following their expression in acts of revenge, concupiscence, and mere rapacity, are known without revelation by all races which have not suffered the downward evolution. The literatures prove this back even to the days of Hamurabi. Thus natural standards of temper and conduct are seen to exist, below which men may not live without loss, and hence there are natural laws to disobey which is sin. The table given on Sinai, though given to Moses, was in the world long before Moses. But higher sanction was given it by the lawgiver, and the highest by the re-enactment of the Decalogue by Jesus Christ. [Sidenote: The Heart Law.] [Sidenote: Effects of Sin.] [Sidenote: Characteristics of Sin.] [Sidenote: Results of Sin.] Sin is blameworthy because it is born of the human preference and the human will. The nation which, knowing most of the Divine will, disobeys, is the most guilty because the most knowing. The proportion of guilt depends on the measure of knowledge and the measure of opportunity. Hence there is some guilt among those who know only a part of the truth, and if a man perceives, without the aid of revelation, a law in nature and a penalty, and breaks that law, then is he a sinner. Some of the physical consequences may apparently be avoided by future obedience. But the inner and spiritual consequences of sin are the worst--these things; namely: In the weakening of the will; in the hardening of the conscience; and, later, in the recklessness as to consequences, indicated by that terrible indictment by Paul, "Who, being past feeling, have given themselves over." The consciousness of sin is practically universal. It is no invention of Christianity, though brought to its greatest force by Christianity. Religions, governments, literatures,--all and everywhere,--treat of sin as a fact. It is more than dominion of body over spirit; more than an incident of growth; more than a result of undeveloped judgment, tinged with emotion, and applied to questions of motive and conduct. Sin is the abnormal; sin is a variant from standard; sin is self-will and selfishness throttling duty. Where men accept a God, it is opposition to His law and government.[7] If no personal God be believed in, then sin is willful opposition to the course of nature and to law, as proved by experience. So, in every case, it is unworthy, injurious, and guilty, and must be repented of and atoned for. The doctrine of sin will never be essentially disturbed. [Footnote 7: Cf. Clarke. Outline of Theology.] * * * * * [Sidenote: A Supernatural Event.] [Sidenote: Lacks Scientific Proof.] [Sidenote: An Old Fallacy.] [Sidenote: A Jewish Argument.] [Sidenote: Kant's Reasoning.] [Sidenote: Can Not Be Demonstrated.] The next clause in the creed, "The resurrection of the body," if it remains as a permanent article of faith, must rest on the declaration of Christ and on His resurrection. It is confessedly dependent, not on a natural, but a supernatural order. On this point it is again worth our while to note a concession by Huxley, as showing the consistency of one Christian truth with another. "If a genuine, and not merely subjective, immortality awaits us, I conceive that without some such change as that depicted in I Corinthians xv, immortality must be eternal misery."[8] Surely, this is a great testimony to that famous chapter on the resurrection. No scientific proof or probability can be adduced for the resurrection of the body. The older theologians used to point out that the caterpillar entombed itself that it might emerge to the higher life of the butterfly. But we must not take from such a fact what suits our purpose, and leave a fatal weakness in our argument. The butterfly does, indeed, emerge from the coffin of the cocoon and the seemingly dead pupa. But it is only for a brief day of life. Then it lays its eggs and dies forever. It is born to no immortality, but to the most ephemeral life. The early Church; yea, the Jewish Church, found rational warrant for belief in immortality and the resurrection of the body, first in the thought that it was unjust for those who fought for and brought in the kingdom of God, to enjoy nothing of what they secured. So the doctrine of the first resurrection appears as a contribution of justice to holy life. Later on, similar reasoning demanded the resurrection of all. A judgment is necessary, not to acquaint God with the merits of men, but to acquaint men with the righteousness of God. This would be impossible without the resurrection of all. Very close to this is the reasoning of Kant, summarized as follows: "Every moral act must have as an end the highest good. This good consists of two elements, virtue and felicity, or happiness. The two are inseparable. But these can not be realized under the limitations of this existence. Immortality follows as a deduction. The moral law demands perfect virtue or holiness; but a moral being can not realize absolute moral perfection or a holy completeness of nature in this present life." It is wholly of faith that men are immortal. It of necessity can not be demonstrated. The mass of mankind have believed it, and do believe it, and it is one of the most difficult of beliefs to escape from, returning to some skeptical scientists almost as an intuition, conquering the logic of death and decay. [Footnote 8: Biography, Vol. II. p. 322.] [Sidenote: How Faith Grows.] It is also true that faith in immortality grows with the fullness and intelligence of the spiritual life. It becomes a complete persuasion to the pure in heart. Yet some scientific facts, as related to man, make the idea of his extinction improbable, and separate him from the "beast which perisheth." [Sidenote: Men and Brutes.] [Sidenote: What Brutes Have.] It is true that much is common to men and brutes. They walk the same earth; breathe the same air; are nourished by the same food, which is digested by the same processes. Their life is transmitted by the same methods, and their embryonic life is strangely similar. It is also true that there are strong mental resemblances. Both love and hate; are jealous and indifferent; are courageous and cowardly; they perceive by similar organs; record by similar mnemonic ganglia; and are within certain limits impelled by the same motives. Nor can a measure of reason be denied to animals. While much of what appears to be mental life is automatic and unconscious response to an external stimulus reaching a nerve-center, yet within limits they deliberate; they exercise choice; and determine routes and methods. [Sidenote: Man Above Brutes.] [Sidenote: Habits of Animals.] [Sidenote: Limits of Brute Intelligence.] [Sidenote: Limits Continued.] But when all this is said, man rises almost infinitely beyond the highest brute. Man can stand outside of himself; contemplate the movements of his own mind; watch the play of motive upon energy and will, and know himself as no brute can ever be trained to do. Nor have brutes the ganglia, lobes, or convolutions which house and direct such powers; and no tribe of mankind has been found without them, however undeveloped. Very limited, indeed, is the use of natural forces or of supplied materials in the life of a brute. The birds pick up feathers, hair, twigs; but no bird provides such things by deliberate prevision and co-operation with nature. What animal sows that he may reap? The so-called agricultural ants gather what they have not sown, and reap what they have not planted. Man sows that he may gather; breeds that he may use; and accomplishes civilization by an ever-increasing mastery and adaptation of natural forces. An insect may float with the current on a chip; but what one ever put a chip into the water? A beaver may build a dam; but what beaver ever turned the heightened water on a wheel? The dog may lie in a sunny spot; but what dog ever created artificial heat or condensed by a lens the sun's heat on a particular point? The hen may lay and incubate an egg; but what hen ever invented an incubator to save her long sitting in one pose or place, or studied the development of life in and from the egg she produced? The ox may select the richest pasture; but never dreamed of creating a rich pasture by the culture and fertilization of which he is the chief source. The tiger chooses and slays his prey; but does not know how to propagate, develop, and safely mature the animals on which he feeds. All animal life below man must locate where its food abounds, or follow that food in its migrations or seasonal changes. Man alone stores and transports his food, creating commerce by his mastery of climate. [Sidenote: Man Parts Company.] [Sidenote: Man and Brute Compared.] [Sidenote: How Man Can Live.] [Sidenote: How Man Can Decay.] [Sidenote: Incidental as to Body.] The brute obeys law unwittingly in the sustenance and transmission of life. Man alone perceives and deduces law from a thousand facts, and concludes a lawgiver from the law, and one Lord and Giver of Life "from the unity and universality of force." The brute turns its eye skyward to detect danger; but never measures or counts the stars, discerns the movements of the planets, nor extends vision and hearing by telescope, microscope, and megaphone, nor proves by the spectroscope the sameness of stellar elements with those of our own world. The brute neither makes history nor records it. He remembers, but does not recollect. His affections are evanescent as to his kind, and only approach permanence as they are fastened upon us. The brute cognizes external things, but does not perceive their being. Thus man can live in an intellectual or spiritual world as to his aims, motives, and occupations. He need touch matter only so far as it is necessary to support the bodily strength on which his spiritual and intellectual movement must depend for basis and manifestation. On the other hand he may reduce the intellectual and spiritual life to the lowest limit by giving the mastery to his physical appetites. We feel instinctively that to do this last is unworthy of manhood and destructive of the higher nature and intent. But who expects a brute to do anything else but minister to his appetites? If he delays a single second in doing it, it is only through fear of man or of some stronger animal. His intellectual movements have this as an end in complete reversal of the case with man. With the brute the intellect seems incidental to the body. With man the body is incidental to the intellect. One feels for this reason that man might live a purely spiritual and disembodied life. No one from this standpoint thinks so of a brute. [Sidenote: Immortality of Force.] [Sidenote: Christ's Light.] [Sidenote: The Christian's Eye.] Once more let Huxley speak as to the scientific possibility "with regard to the other great Christian dogmas, the immortality of the soul, and a future state of rewards and punishments, what possible objection can I, who am compelled, perforce, to believe in the immortality of what we call matter and force, and in a very unmistakable present state of rewards and punishments for all our deeds, have to these doctrines? Give me a scintilla of evidence, and I am ready to jump at them."[9] But when all conditions are considered, and just weight given to all the probabilities, the full persuasion of immortality comes through Him who has "brought life and immortality to light." These seem part of His communication to the souls in whom He dwells. To them He says, "Because I live, ye shall live also." Into their being He injects the power of an endless life. Their hopes, faith, affections center less and less on time. The truer, fuller, richer life is felt to be coming. It is to surpass the earthly life in quantity and in quality only because the soul, as it flutters Godward, must here feel the attrition of its fleshly tabernacle. This dissolved, the fullness and the freedom come. The house not made with hands henceforth enshrines the spirit. Christ's great Word is finally interpreted: "I am come, that they might have life, and have it more abundantly." [Footnote 9: Biography. Vol. I, p. 260.] * * * * * [Sidenote: The Life Everlasting.] [Sidenote: Literalism.] "The life everlasting!" This is the grand finale of the Creed as it is the end which all devout souls seek. It is made probable by what man is, which is the same as saying that there are, from considerations above mentioned, probabilities in its favor. It has been the habit of pious souls to attempt to understand and describe this life, and many are the volumes which proceed upon the literalness of the Bible descriptions. I suppose there are phases of faith which can not reach beyond literalness, and hence do not rightly interpret the splendid imagery of St. John. Such we must leave to the blessed surprise and ecstatic awakening of Paradise. [Sidenote: Great Figures.] [Sidenote: Locating Heaven.] [Sidenote: Eternal Punishment.] To other minds the life everlasting is unbelievable except as the great pictures of John are spiritualized. To such the place becomes a state or condition. It is of no interest to us to inquire, as did the Christian philosopher, Dick, into the locality of heaven and hell. Such ideas as those recently put forth by a preacher, not of our Church, thank God! that hell is in one of the spots on the sun, and heaven in the chromosphere are distasteful to the last degree to those who believe that "God is a Spirit," and that "flesh and blood can not inherit the kingdom of God." Such feel that heaven may be anywhere and everywhere; that the gulf which separates the rich man and Lazarus may be only a moral gulf, seeing that they talked across it. They see eternal punishment in the perception of the sinner that he has forever stunted his soul by his sinfullness and the grossness of his affections. Though he should begin a progressive life from his present status, he could never catch up with a soul which has a purer point of departure. There is an awful penalty in the fact that this sense of loss may be eternal. The consciousness of limited powers, the certainty that so much is lost, never to be regained, is surely a fire that is not quenched; a worm that dieth not! [Sidenote: Limitation by Sin.] [Sidenote: Illustrations.] [Sidenote: Strength and Disuse.] But how much more awful the thought that this limitation of the nature by sin, whether of body or soul, may affect the soul through unending life without fitness for any pleasure or delight possible to that state! The company of good and refined men and women is here little less than hell to a bad and coarse man, if he is compelled to stay in it. There is nothing in the spirit, aim, and employments of such that he can measure. He can understand the delights of eating and drinking. Even then it is the coarse foods and the drunk-bringing drink that he most enjoys. He can understand noise, coarse jokes, but not quiet conversation, nor the play of a delicate wit. When the pleasure of life is sensual, bodily, the capacity for mental and moral pleasure slowly diminishes, and at last dies. Project such a soul into the company of the redeemed; place it where the body has no existence, and therefore no pleasure to give; compel it to remain among those whose every thought is pure, and whose eyes are fixed on the "King in His beauty," and, like the rich man, it will lift its eyes in torment, and ask for "water to cool his parched tongue." * * * * * It is no part of my aim to say a final word on any of these great truths, even if I deemed myself capable thereof. [Sidenote: Aim and Intent.] [Sidenote: Confirmation by Experience.] [Sidenote: Effect on the Bible.] [Sidenote: The Coming of Revelation.] But it is my hope to point out the way in which we find our faith strengthened, and to show that the great truths of Christianity will survive the most radical criticism of the Scriptures. Every one of these truths has increasing confirmation as we accumulate the teachings of science, history, and religious experience. The Bible will never be superseded, because it contains the struggle of every type of soul Godward, and because its record of what the Lord said and did; of what He was, and of what the apostles thought Him to be, stands as the verification of what we know Him to be. The Bible and experience are mutually illuminating and corroborative. It is possible that the Church receiving the deposit of truth orally from the apostles, might have passed that truth down orally, and by her ordinances, illustratively as she did, until the Gospels were written; as she must do now in lands where the people can not read, having no written language. To avoid, however, the defects of human memory and to accumulate a standard by which teaching and experience should be verified, "God who at sundry times and in divers manners spake in times past unto the fathers, hath in these last days spoken unto us by His Son;" through His Son to the apostles; and by the apostles and their successors to us; those successors being not those made so by the touch of a human hand; but by God's transforming grace, giving to every believer power and privilege "to speak the things we do know." "We having the same spirit of faith; according as it is written, I believed, and therefore have I spoken, we also believe, and therefore speak; knowing that He which raised up the Lord Jesus, shall raise us up also by Jesus, and shall present us with you. For all things are for your sakes, that the abundant grace might, through the thanksgiving of many, redound to the glory of God." 
14780	----	EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY by WILLIAM PALEY, D.D. A New Edition London: Printed by W. Clowes and Sons, Stamford Street 1851 THE HONOURABLE AND RIGHT REVEREND JAMES YORK, D.D., LORD BISHOP OF ELY My LORD, When, five years ago, an important station in the University of Cambridge awaited your Lordship's disposal, you were pleased to offer it to me. The circumstances under which this offer was made demand a public acknowledgment. I had never seen your Lordship; I possessed no connection which could possibly recommend me to your favour; I was known to you only by my endeavour, in common with many others, to discharge my duty as a tutor in the University; and by some very imperfect, but certainly well-intended, and, as you thought, useful publications since. In an age by no means wanting in examples of honourable patronage, although this deserve not to be mentioned in respect of the object of your Lordship's choice, it is inferior to none in the purity and disinterestedness of the motives which suggested it. How the following work may be received, I pretend not to foretell. My first prayer concerning it is, that it may do good to any: my second hope, that it may assist, what it hath always been my earnest wish to promote, the religious part of an academical education. If in this latter view it might seem, in any degree, to excuse your Lordship's judgment of its author, I shall be gratified by the reflection that, to a kindness flowing from public principles, I have made the best public return in my power. In the mean time, and in every event, I rejoice in the opportunity here afforded me of testifying the sense I entertain of your Lordship's conduct, and of a notice which I regard as the most flattering distinction of my life. I am, MY LORD, With sentiments of gratitude and respect, Your Lordship's faithful And most obliged servant, WILLIAM PALEY. CONTENTS Preparatory Considerations--Of the antecedent Credibility of Miracles. PART 1. OF THE DIRECT HISTORICAL EVIDENCE OF CHRISTIANITY, AND WHEREIN IT IS DISTINGUISHED FROM THE EVIDENCE ALLEGED FOR OTHER MIRACLES. Proposition stated PROPOSITION I. That there is satisfactory Evidence, that many professing to be original Witnesses of the Christian Miracles passed their Lives in Labours, Dangers, and Sufferings, voluntarily undergone in Attestation of the Accounts which they delivered, and solely in consequence of their Belief of those Accounts; and that they submitted, from the same Motives, to new Rules of Conduct. CHAPTER I Evidence of the Suffering of the first Propagators of Christianity, from the Nature of the Case. CHAPTER II Evidence of the Sufferings of the first Propagators of Christianity, from Profane Testimony. CHAPTER III Indirect Evidence of the Sufferings of the first Propagators of Christianity, from the Scriptures and other ancient Christian Writings. CHAPTER IV Direct Evidence of the same. CHAPTER V Observations upon the preceding Evidence. CHAPTER VI That the Story for which the first Propagators of Christianity suffered was miraculous. CHAPTER VII That it was, in the main, the Story which we have now proved by indirect Considerations. CHAPTER VIII The same proved from the Authority of our Historical Scriptures. CHAPTER IX Of the Authenticity of the historical Scriptures, in eleven Sections SECT. 1 Quotations of the historical Scriptures by ancient Christian Writers. SECT. 2 Of the peculiar Respect with which they were quoted. SECT. 3 The Scriptures were in very early Times collected into a distinct Volume. SECT. 4 And distinguished by appropriate Names and Titles of Respect. SECT. 5 Were publicly read and expounded in the religious Assemblies of the early Christians. SECT. 6 Commentaries, &c., were anciently written upon the Scriptures. SECT. 7 They were received by ancient Christians of different Sects and persuasions. SECT. 8 The four Gospels, the Acts of the Apostles, thirteen Epistles of St. Paul, the first Epistle of John, and the first of Peter, were received without doubt by those who doubted concerning the other Books of our present Canon. SECT. 9 Our present Gospels were considered by the adversaries of Christianity as containing the Accounts upon which the Religion was founded. SECT. 10 Formal Catalogues of authentic Scriptures were published, in all which our present Gospels were included. SECT. 11 The above Propositions cannot be predicated of those Books which are commonly called Apocryphal Books of the New Testament. Recapitulation. CHAPTER X. OF THE DIRECT HISTORICAL EVIDENCE OF CHRISTIANITY, AND WHEREIN IT IS DISTINGUISHED FROM THE EVIDENCE ALLEGED FOR OTHER MIRACLES. PROPOSITION II. CHAPTER I That there is not satisfactory Evidence, that Persons pretending to be original Witnesses of any other similar Miracles have acted in the same Manner, in Attestation of the Accounts which they delivered, and solely in consequence of their Belief of the Truth of those Accounts. CHAPTER II Consideration of some specific Instances PART II. OF THE AUXILIARY EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY, CHAPTER I Prophecy CHAPTER II The Morality of the Gospel CHAPTER III The Candour of the Writers of the New Testament CHAPTER IV Identity of Christ's Character CHAPTER V Originality of our Saviour's Character CHAPTER VI Conformity of the Facts occasionally mentioned or referred to in Scripture with the State of things in these Times, as represented by foreign and independent Accounts. CHAPTER VII Undesigned Coincidences. CHAPTER VIII Of the History of the Resurrection. CHAPTER IX Of the Propagation of Christianity. SECT. 2 Reflections upon the preceding Account. SECT. 3 Of the Religion of Mahomet. PART III A BRIEF CONSIDERATION OF SOME POPULAR OBJECTIONS. CHAPTER I The Discrepancies between the several Gospels. CHAPTER II Erroneous Opinions imputed to the Apostles. CHAPTER III The Connection of Christianity with the Jewish History. CHAPTER IV Rejection of Christianity. CHAPTER V That the Christian Miracles are not recited, or appealed to, by early Christian Writers themselves, so fully or frequently as might have been expected. CHAPTER VI Want of Universality in the Knowledge and Reception of Christianity, and of greater Clearness in the Evidence. CHAPTER VII Supposed effects of Christianity. CHAPTER VIII Conclusion. PREPARATORY CONSIDERATIONS. I deem it unnecessary to prove that mankind stood in need of a revelation because I have met with no serious person who thinks that, even under the Christian revelation, we have too much light, or any degree of assurance which is superfluous. I desire, moreover, that in judging of Christianity, it may be remembered that the question lies between this religion and none: for, if the Christian religion be not credible, no one, with whom we have to do, will support the pretensions of any other. Suppose, then, the world we live in to have had a Creator; suppose it to appear, from the predominant aim and tendency of the provisions and contrivances observable in the universe, that the Deity, when he formed it, consulted for the happiness of his sensitive creation; suppose the disposition which dictated this counsel to continue; suppose a part of the creation to have received faculties from their Maker, by which they are capable of rendering a moral obedience to his will, and of voluntarily pursuing any end for which he has designed them; suppose the Creator to intend for these, his rational and accountable agents, a second state of existence, in which their situation will be by their behaviour in the first state, by which suppose (and by no other) the objection to the divine government in not putting a difference between the good and the bad, and the inconsistency of this confusion with the care and benevolence discoverable in the works of the Deity is done away; suppose it to be of the utmost importance to the subjects of this dispensation to know what is intended for them, that is, suppose the knowledge of it to be highly conducive to the happiness of the species, a purpose which so many provisions of nature are calculated to promote: Suppose, nevertheless, almost the whole race, either by the imperfection of their faculties, the misfortune of their situation, or by the loss of some prior revelation, to want this knowledge, and not to be likely, without the aid of a new revelation, to attain it; under these circumstances, is it improbable that a revelation should be made? Is it incredible that God should interpose for such a purpose? Suppose him to design for mankind a future state; is it unlikely that he should acquaint him with it? Now in what way can a revelation be made, but by miracles? In none which we are able to conceive. Consequently, in whatever degree it is probable, or not very improbable, that a revelation should be communicated to mankind at all: in the same degree is it probable, or not very improbable, that miracles should be wrought. Therefore, when miracles are related to have been wrought in the promulgating of a revelation manifestly wanted, and, if true, of inestimable value, the improbability which arises from the miraculous nature of the things related is not greater than the original improbability that such a revelation should be imparted by God. I wish it, however, to be correctly understood, in what manner, and to what extent, this argument is alleged. We do not assume the attributes of the Deity, or the existence of a future state, in order to prove the reality of miracles. That reality always must be proved by evidence. We assert only, that in miracles adduced in support of revelation there is not any such antecedent improbability as no testimony can surmount. And for the purpose of maintaining this assertion, we contend, that the incredibility of miracles related to have been wrought in attestation of a message from God, conveying intelligence of a future state of rewards and punishments, and teaching mankind how to prepare themselves for that state, is not in itself greater than the event, call it either probable or improbable, of the two following propositions being true: namely, first, that a future state of existence should be destined by God for his human creation; and, secondly, that, being so destined, he should acquaint them with it. It is not necessary for our purpose, that these propositions be capable of proof, or even that, by arguments drawn from the light of nature, they can be made out to be probable; it is enough that we are able to say concerning them, that they are not so violently improbable, so contradictory to what we already believe of the divine power and character, that either the propositions themselves, or facts strictly connected with the propositions (and therefore no further improbable than they are improbable), ought to be rejected at first sight, and to be rejected by whatever strength or complication of evidence they be attested. This is the prejudication we would resist. For to this length does a modern objection to miracles go, viz., that no human testimony can in any case render them credible. I think the reflection above stated, that, if there be a revelation, there must be miracles, and that, under the circumstances in which the human species are placed, a revelation is not improbable, or not to any great degree, to be a fair answer to the whole objection. But since it is an objection which stands in the very threshold our argument, and, if admitted, is a bar to every proof, and to all future reasoning upon the subject, it may be necessary, before we proceed further, to examine the principle upon which it professes to be founded; which principle is concisely this, That it is contrary to experience that a miracle should be true, but not contrary to experience that testimony should be false. Now there appears a small ambiguity in the term "experience," and in the phrases, "contrary to experience," or "contradicting experience," which it may be necessary to remove in the first place. Strictly speaking, the narrative of a fact is then only contrary to experience, when the fact is related to have existed at a time and place, at which time and place we being present did not perceive it to exist; as if it should be asserted, that in a particular room, and at a particular hour of a certain day, a man was raised from the dead, in which room, and at the time specified, we, being present and looking on, perceived no such event to have taken place. Here the assertion is contrary to experience properly so called; and this is a contrariety which no evidence can surmount. It matters nothing, whether the fact be of a miraculous nature, or not. But although this be the experience, and the contrariety, which Archbishop Tillotson alleged in the quotation with which Mr. Hume opens his Essay, it is certainly not that experience, nor that contrariety, which Mr. Hume himself intended to object. And short of this I know no intelligible signification which can be affixed to the term "contrary to experience," but one, viz., that of not having ourselves experienced anything similar to the thing related, or such things not being generally experienced by others. I say "not generally" for to state concerning the fact in question, that no such thing was ever experienced, or that universal experience is against it, is to assume the subject of the controversy. Now the improbability which arises from the want (for this properly is a want, not a contradiction) of experience, is only equal to the probability there is, that, if the thing were true, we should experience things similar to it, or that such things would be generally experienced. Suppose it then to be true that miracles were wrought on the first promulgation of Christianity, when nothing but miracles could decide its authority, is it certain that such miracles would be repeated so often, and in so many places, as to become objects of general experience? Is it a probability approaching to certainty? Is it a probability of any great strength or force? Is it such as no evidence can encounter? And yet this probability is the exact converse, and therefore the exact measure, of the improbability which arises from the want of experience, and which Mr. Hume represents as invincible by human testimony. It is not like alleging a new law of nature, or a new experiment in natural philosophy; because, when these are related, it is expected that, under the same circumstances, the same effect will follow universally; and in proportion as this expectation is justly entertained, the want of a corresponding experience negatives the history. But to expect concerning a miracle, that it should succeed upon a repetition, is to expect that which would make it cease to be a miracle, which is contrary to its nature as such, and would totally destroy the use and purpose for which it was wrought. The force of experience as an objection to miracles is founded in the presumption, either that the course of nature is invariable, or that, if it be ever varied, variations will be frequent and general. Has the necessity of this alternative been demonstrated? Permit us to call the course of nature the agency of an intelligent Being, and is there any good reason for judging this state of the case to be probable? Ought we not rather to expect that such a Being, on occasions of peculiar importance, may interrupt the order which he had appointed, yet, that such occasions should return seldom; that these interruptions consequently should be confined to the experience of a few; that the want of it, therefore, in many, should be matter neither of surprise nor objection? But, as a continuation of the argument from experience, it is said that, when we advance accounts of miracles, we assign effects without causes, or we attribute effects to causes inadequate to the purpose, or to causes of the operation of which we have no experience of what causes, we may ask, and of what effects, does the objection speak? If it be answered that, when we ascribe the cure of the palsy to a touch, of blindness to the anointing of the eyes with clay, or the raising of the dead to a word, we lay ourselves open to this imputation; we reply that we ascribe no such effects to such causes. We perceive no virtue or energy in these things more than in other things of the same kind. They are merely signs to connect the miracle with its end. The effect we ascribe simply to the volition of Deity; of whose existence and power, not to say of whose Presence and agency, we have previous and independent proof. We have, therefore, all we seek for in the works of rational agents--a sufficient power and an adequate motive. In a word, once believe that there is a God, and miracles are not incredible. Mr. Hume states the ease of miracles to be a contest of opposite improbabilities, that is to say, a question whether it be more improbable that the miracle should be true, or the testimony false: and this I think a fair account of the controversy. But herein I remark a want of argumentative justice, that, in describing the improbability of miracles, he suppresses all those circumstances of extenuation, which result from our knowledge of the existence, power, and disposition of the Deity; his concern in the creation, the end answered by the miracle, the importance of that end, and its subserviency to the plan pursued in the work of nature. As Mr. Hume has represented the question, miracles are alike incredible to him who is previously assured of the constant agency of a Divine Being, and to him who believes that no such Being exists in the universe. They are equally incredible, whether related to have been wrought upon occasion the most deserving, and for purposes the most beneficial, or for no assignable end whatever, or for an end confessedly trifling or pernicious. This surely cannot be a correct statement. In adjusting also the other side of the balance, the strength and weight of testimony, this author has provided an answer to every possible accumulation of historical proof by telling us that we are not obliged to explain how the story of the evidence arose. Now I think that we are obliged; not, perhaps, to show by positive accounts how it did, but by a probable hypothesis how it might so happen. The existence of the testimony is a phenomenon; the truth of the fact solves the phenomenon. If we reject this solution, we ought to have some other to rest in; and none, even by our adversaries, can be admired, which is not inconsistent with the principles that regulate human affairs and human conduct at present, or which makes men then to have been a different kind of beings from what they are now. But the short consideration which, independently of every other, convinces me that there is no solid foundation in Mr. Hume's conclusion, is the following. When a theorem is proposed to a mathematician, the first thing he does with it is to try it upon a simple case, and if it produce a false result, he is sure that there must be some mistake in the demonstration. Now to proceed in this way with what may be called Mr. Hume's theorem. If twelve men, whose probity and good sense I had long known, should seriously and circumstantially relate to me an account of a miracle wrought before their eyes, and in which it was impossible that they should be deceived: if the governor of the country, hearing a rumour of this account, should call these men into his presence, and offer them a short proposal, either to confess the imposture, or submit to be tied up to a gibbet; if they should refuse with one voice to acknowledge that there existed any falsehood or imposture in the case: if this threat were communicated to them separately, yet with no different effect; if it was at last executed; if I myself saw them, one after another, consenting to be racked, burnt, or strangled, rather than live up the truth of their account;--still if Mr. Hume's rule be my guide, I am not to believe them. Now I undertake to say that there exists not a sceptic in the world who would not believe them, or who would defend such incredulity. Instances of spurious miracles supported by strong apparent testimony undoubtedly demand examination; Mr. Hume has endeavoured to fortify his argument by some examples of this kind. I hope in a proper place to show that none of them reach the strength or circumstances of the Christian evidence. In these, however, consists the weight of his objection; in the principle itself, I am persuaded, there is none. PART I. OF THE DIRECT HISTORICAL EVIDENCE OF CHRISTIANITY, AND WHEREIN IT IS DISTINGUISHED FROM THE EVIDENCE ALLEGED FOR OTHER MIRACLES. The two propositions which I shall endeavour to establish are these: I. That there is satisfactory evidence that many professing to be original witnesses of the Christian miracles passed their lives in labours, dangers, and sufferings, voluntarily undergone in attestation of the accounts which they delivered, and solely in consequence of their belief of those accounts; and that they also submitted, from the same motives, to new rules of conduct. 2. That there is not satisfactory evidence that persons professing to be original witnesses of other miracles, in their nature as certain as these are, have ever acted in the same manner, in attestation of the accounts which they delivered, and properly in consequence of their belief of those accounts. The first of these prepositions, as it forms the argument will stand at the head of the following nine chapters. CHAPTER I There is satisfactory evidence that many, professing to be original witness of the Christian miracles, passed their lives in labours, dangers, and sufferings, voluntarily undergone in attestation of the accounts which they delivered, and solely in consequence of their of belief of those accounts; and that they also submitted, from the same motives, to new rules of conduct. To support this proposition, two points are necessary to be made out: first, that the Founder of the institution, his associates and immediate followers, acted the part which the proposition imputes to them: secondly, that they did so in attestation of the miraculous history recorded in our Scriptures, and solely in consequence of their belief of the truth of this history. Before we produce any particular testimony to the activity and sufferings which compose the subject of our first assertion, it will be proper to consider the degree of probability which the assertion derives from the nature of the case, that is, by inferences from those parts of the case which, in point of fact, are on all hands acknowledged. First, then, the Christian Religion exists, and, therefore, by some means or other, was established. Now it either owes the principle of its establishment, i. e. its first publication, to the activity of the Person who was the founder of the institution, and of those who were joined with him in the undertaking, or we are driven upon the strange supposition, that, although they might lie by, others would take it up; although they were quiet and silent, other persons busied themselves in the success and propagation of their story. This is perfectly incredible. To me it appears little less than certain, that, if the first announcing of the religion by the Founder had not been followed up by the zeal and industry of his immediate disciples, the attempt must have expired in its birth. Then as to the kind and degree of exertion which was employed, and the mode of life to which these persons submitted, we reasonably suppose it to be like that which we observe in all others who voluntarily become missionaries of a new faith. Frequent, earnest, and laborious preaching, constantly conversing with religious persons upon religion, a sequestration from the common pleasures, engagements, and varieties of life, and an addiction to one serious object, compose the habits of such men. I do not say that this mode of life is without enjoyment, but I say that the enjoyment springs from sincerity. With a consciousness at the bottom of hollowness and falsehood, the fatigue and restraint would become insupportable. I am apt to believe that very few hypocrites engage in these undertakings; or, however, persist in them long. Ordinarily speaking, nothing can overcome the indolence of mankind, the love which is natural to most tempers of cheerful society and cheerful scenes, or the desire, which is common to all, of personal ease and freedom, but conviction. Secondly, it is also highly probable, from the nature of the case, that the propagation of the new religion was attended with difficulty and danger. As addressed to the Jews, it was a system adverse, not only to their habitual opinions but to those opinions upon which their hopes, their partialities, their pride, their consolation, was founded. This people, with or without reason, had worked themselves into a persuasion, that some signal and greatly advantageous change was to be effected in the condition of their country, by the agency of a long-promised messenger from heaven.* The rulers of the Jews, their leading sect, their priesthood, had been the authors of this persuasion to the common people. So that it was not merely the conjecture of theoretical divines, or the secret expectation of a few recluse devotees, but it was become the popular hope and Passion, and, like all popular opinions, undoubting and impatient of contradiction. They clung to this hope under every misfortune of their country, and with more tenacity as their dangers and calamities increased. To find, therefore, that expectations so gratifying were to be worse than disappointed; that they were to end in the diffusion of a mild unambitious religion, which, instead of victories and triumphs, instead of exalting their nation and institution above the rest of the world, was to advance those whom they despised to an equality with themselves, in those very points of comparison in which they most valued their own distinction, could be no very pleasing discovery to a Jewish mind; nor could the messengers of such intelligence expect to be well received or easily credited. The doctrine was equally harsh and novel. The extending of the kingdom of God to those who did not conform to the law of Moses was a notion that had never before entered into the thoughts of a Jew. _________ * "Pererebuerat oriento toto vetus et contans opinio, esse in fatis, ut eo tempore Judaea profecti rerum potirsatur." Sueton. Vespasian. cap. 4--8. "Pluribus persuasio inerat, antiquis sacerdotum literis contineri, eo ipso tempore fore, ut valesecret oriens, profectique Judaea rerum potirentur." Tacit. Hist. lib. v. cap. 9--13. _________ The character of the new institution was, in other respects also, ungrateful to Jewish habits and principles. Their own religion was in a high degree technical. Even the enlightened Jew placed a great deal of stress upon the ceremonies of his law, saw in them a great deal of virtue and efficacy; the gross and vulgar had scarcely anything else; and the hypocritical and ostentatious magnified them above measure, as being the instruments of their own reputation and influence. The Christian scheme, without formally repealing the Levitical code, lowered its estimation extremely. In the place of strictness and zeal in performing the observances which that code prescribed, or which tradition had added to it, the new sect preached up faith, well-regulated affections, inward purity, and moral rectitude of disposition, as the true ground, on the part of the worshipper, of merit and acceptance with God. This, however rational it may appear, or recommending to us at present, did not by any means facilitate the plan then. On the contrary, to disparage those qualities which the highest characters in the country valued themselves most upon, was a sure way of making powerful enemies. As if the frustration of the national hope was not enough, the long-esteemed merit of ritual zeal and punctuality was to be decried, and that by Jews preaching to Jews. The ruling party at Jerusalem had just before crucified the Founder of the religion. That is a fact which will not be disputed. They, therefore, who stood forth to preach the religion must necessarily reproach these rulers with an execution which they could not but represent as an unjust and cruel murder. This would not render their office more easy, or their situation more safe. With regard to the interference of the Roman government which was then established in Judea, I should not expect, that, despising as it did the religion of the country, it would, if left to itself, animadvert, either with much vigilance or much severity, upon the schisms and controversies which arose within it. Yet there was that in Christianity which might easily afford a handle of accusation with a jealous government. The Christians avowed an unqualified obedience to a new master. They avowed also that he was the person who had been foretold to the Jews under the suspected title of King. The spiritual nature of this kingdom, the consistency of this obedience with civil subjection, were distinctions too refined to be entertained by a Roman president, who viewed the business at a great distance, or through the medium of very hostile representations. Our histories accordingly inform us, that this was the turn which the enemies of Jesus gave to his character and pretensions in their remonstrances with Pontius Pilate. And Justin Martyr, about a hundred years afterwards, complains that the same mistake prevailed in his time: "Ye, having heard that we are waiting for a kingdom, suppose without distinguishing that we mean a human kingdom, when in truth we speak of that which is with God."* And it was undoubtedly a natural source of calumny and misconstruction. _________ * Ap. Ima p. 16. Ed. Thirl. _________ The preachers of Christianity had, therefore, to contend with prejudice backed by power. They had to come forward to a disappointed people, to a priesthood possessing a considerable share of municipal authority, and actuated by strong motives of opposition and resentment; and they had to do this under a foreign government, to whose favour they made no pretensions, and which was constantly surrounded by their enemies. The well-known, because the experienced, fate of reformers, whenever the reformation subverts some reigning opinion, and does not proceed upon a change that has already taken place in the sentiments of a country, will not allow, much less lead us to suppose that the first propagators of Christianity at Jerusalem and in Judea, under the difficulties and the enemies they had to contend with, and entirely destitute as they were of force, authority, or protection, could execute their mission with personal ease and safety. Let us next inquire, what might reasonably be expected by the preachers of Christianity when they turned themselves to the heathen public. Now the first thing that strikes us is, that the religion they carried with them was exclusive. It denied without reserve the truth of every article of heathen mythology, the existence of every object of their worship. It accepted no compromise, it admitted no comprehension. It must prevail, if it prevailed at all, by the overthrow of every statue, altar, and temple in the world, It will not easily be credited, that a design, so bold as this was, could in any age be attempted to be carried into execution with impunity. For it ought to be considered, that this was not setting forth, or magnifying the character and worship of some new competitor for a place in the Pantheon, whose pretensions might he discussed or asserted without questioning the reality of any others: it was pronouncing all other gods to be false, and all other worship vain. From the facility with which the polytheism of ancient nations admitted new objects of worship into the number of their acknowledged divinities, or the patience with which they might entertain proposals of this kind, we can argue nothing as to their toleration of a system, or of the publishers and active propagators of a system, which swept away the very foundation of the existing establishment. The one was nothing more than what it would be, in popish countries, to add a saint to the calendar; the other was to abolish and tread under foot the calendar itself. Secondly, it ought also to be considered, that this was not the case of philosophers propounding in their books, or in their schools, doubts concerning the truth of the popular creed, or even avowing their disbelief of it. These philosophers did not go about from place to place to collect proselytes from amongst the common people; to form in the heart of the country societies professing their tenets; to provide for the order, instruction and permanency of these societies; nor did they enjoin their followers to withdraw themselves from the public worship of the temples, or refuse a compliance with rites instituted by the laws.* These things are what the Christians did, and what the philosophers did not; and in these consisted the activity and danger of the enterprise. _________ * The best of the ancient philosophers, Plato, Cicero, and Epictetus, allowed, or rather enjoined, men to worship the gods of the country, and in the established form. See passages to this purpose collected from their works by Dr. Clarke, Nat. and Rev. Rel. p. 180. ed. v--Except Socrates, they all thought it wiser to comply with the laws than to contend. _________ Thirdly, it ought also to be considered, that this danger proceeded not merely from solemn acts and public resolutions of the state, but from sudden bursts of violence at particular places, from the licence of the populace, the rashness of some magistrates and negligence of others; from the influence and instigation of interested adversaries, and, in general, from the variety and warmth of opinion which an errand so novel and extraordinary could not fail of exciting. I can conceive that the teachers of Christianity might both fear and suffer much from these causes, without any general persecution being denounced against them by imperial authority. Some length of time, I should suppose, might pass, before the vast machine of the Roman empire would be put in motion, or its attention be obtained to religious controversy: but, during that time, a great deal of ill usage might be endured, by a set of friendless, unprotected travellers, telling men, wherever they came, that the religion of their ancestors, the religion in which they had been brought up, the religion of the state, and of the magistrate, the rites which they frequented, the pomp which they admired, was throughout a system of folly and delusion. Nor do I think that the teachers of Christianity would find protection in that general disbelief of the popular theology, which is supposed to have prevailed amongst the intelligent part of the heathen public. It is by no means true that unbelievers are usually tolerant. They are not disposed (and why should they?) to endanger the present state of things, by suffering a religion of which they believe nothing to be disturbed by another of which they believe as little. They are ready themselves to conform to anything; and are, oftentimes, amongst the foremost to procure conformity from others, by any method which they think likely to be efficacious. When was ever a change of religion patronized by infidels? How little, not withstanding the reigning scepticism, and the magnified liberality of that age, the true principles of toleration were understood by the wisest men amongst them, may be gathered from two eminent and uncontested examples. The younger Pliny, polished as he was by all the literature of that soft and elegant period, could gravely pronounce this monstrous judgment:--"Those who persisted in declaring themselves Christians, I ordered to be led away to punishment, (i. e. to execution,) for I DID NOT DOUBT, whatever it was that they confessed, that contumacy and inflexible obstinacy ought to be punished." His master Trajan, a mild and accomplished prince, went, nevertheless, no further in his sentiments of moderation and equity than what appears in the following rescript:--"The Christians are not to be sought for; but if any are brought before you, and convicted, they are to be punished." And this direction he gives, after it had been reported to him by his own president, that, by the most strict examination, nothing could be discovered in the principles of these persons, but "a bad and excessive superstition," accompanied, it seems, with an oath or mutual federation, "to allow themselves in no crime or immoral conduct whatever." The truth is, the ancient heathens considered religion entirely as an affair of state, as much under the tuition of the magistrate as any other part of the police. The religion of that age was not merely allied to the state; it was incorporated into it. Many of its offices were administered by the magistrate. Its titles of pontiffs, augurs, and flamens, were borne by senators, consuls, and generals. Without discussing, therefore, the truth of the theology, they resented every affront put upon the established worship, as a direct opposition to the authority of government. Add to which, that the religious systems of those times, however ill supported by evidence, had been long established. The ancient religion of a country has always many votaries, and sometimes not the fewer, because its origin is hidden in remoteness and obscurity. Men have a natural veneration for antiquity, especially in matters of religion. What Tacitus says of the Jewish was more applicable to the heathen establishment: "Hi ritus, quoquo modo inducti, antiquitate defenduntur." It was also a splendid and sumptuous worship. It had its priesthood, its endowments, its temples. Statuary, painting, architecture, and music, contributed their effect to its ornament and magnificence. It abounded in festival shows and solemnities, to which the common people are greatly addicted, and which were of a nature to engage them much more than anything of that sort among us. These things would retain great numbers on its side by the fascination of spectacle and pomp, as well as interest many in its preservation by the advantage which they drew from it. "It was moreover interwoven," as Mr. Gibbon rightly represents it, "with every circumstance of business or pleasure, of public or private life, with all the offices and amusements of society." On the due celebration also of its rites, the people were taught to believe, and did believe, that the prosperity of their country in a great measure depended. I am willing to accept the account of the matter which is given by Mr. Gibbon: "The various modes of worship which prevailed in the Roman world were all considered by the people as equally true, by the philosopher as equally false, and by the magistrate as equally useful:" and I would ask from which of these three classes of men were the Christian missionaries to look for protection or impunity? Could they expect it from the people, "whose acknowledged confidence in the public religion" they subverted from its foundation? From the philosopher, who, "considering all religious as equally false," would of course rank theirs among the number, with the addition of regarding them as busy and troublesome zealots? Or from the magistrate, who, satisfied with the "utility" of the subsisting religion, would not be likely to countenance a spirit of proselytism and innovation:--a system which declared war against every other, and which, if it prevailed, must end in a total rupture of public opinion; an upstart religion, in a word, which was not content with its own authority, but must disgrace all the settled religions of the world? It was not to be imagined that he would endure with patience, that the religion of the emperor and of the state should be calumniated and borne down by a company of superstitious and despicable Jews. Lastly; the nature of the case affords a strong proof, that the original teachers of Christianity, in consequence of their new profession, entered upon a new and singular course of life. We may be allowed to presume, that the institution which they preached to others, they conformed to in their own persons; because this is no more than what every teacher of a new religion both does, and must do, in order to obtain either proselytes or hearers. The change which this would produce was very considerable. It is a change which we do not easily estimate, because, ourselves and all about us being habituated to the institutions from our infancy, it is what we neither experience nor observe. After men became Christians, much of their time was spent in prayer and devotion, in religious meetings, in celebrating the Eucharist, in conferences, in exhortations, in preaching, in an affectionate intercourse with one another, and correspondence with other societies. Perhaps their mode of life, in its form and habit, was not very unlike the Unitas Fratrum, or the modern methodists. Think then what it was to become such at Corinth, at Ephesus, at Antioch, or even at Jerusalem. How new! How alien from all their former habits and ideas, and from those of everybody about them! What a revolution there must have been of opinions and prejudices to bring the matter to this! We know what the precepts of the religion are; how pure, how benevolent, how disinterested a conduct they enjoin; and that this purity and benevolence are extended to the very thoughts and affections. We are not, perhaps, at liberty to take for granted that the lives of the preachers of Christianity were as perfect as their lessons; but we are entitled to contend, that the observable part of their behaviour must have agreed in a great measure with the duties which they taught. There was, therefore, (which is all that we assert,) a course of life pursued by them, different from that which they before led. And this is of great importance. Men are brought to anything almost sooner than to change their habit of life, especially when the change is either inconvenient, or made against the force of natural inclination, or with the loss of accustomed indulgences. It is the most difficult of all things to convert men from vicious habits to virtuous ones, as every one may judge from what he feels in himself, as well as from what he sees in others.* It is almost like making men over again. _________ * Hartley's Essays on Man, p. 190. _________ Left then to myself, and without any more information than a knowledge of the existence of the religion, of the general story upon which it is founded, and that no act of power, force, and authority was concerned in its first success, I should conclude, from the very nature and exigency of the case, that the Author of the religion, during his life, and his immediate disciples after his death, exerted themselves in spreading and publishing the institution throughout the country in which it began, and into which it was first carried; that, in the prosecution of this purpose, they underwent the labours and troubles which we observe the propagators of new sects to undergo; that the attempt must necessarily have also been in a high degree dangerous; that, from the subject of the mission, compared with the fixed opinions and prejudices of those to whom the missionaries were to address themselves, they could hardly fail of encountering strong and frequent opposition; that, by the hand of government, as well as from the sudden fury and unbridled licence of the people, they would oftentimes experience injurious and cruel treatment; that, at any rate, they must have always had so much to fear for their personal safety, as to have passed their lives in a state of constant peril and anxiety; and lastly, that their mode of life and conduct, visibly at least, corresponded with the institution which they delivered, and, so far, was both new, and required continual self-denial. CHAPTER II. There is satisfactory evidence that many, professing to be original witnesses of the Christian miracles, passed their lives in labours, dangers and sufferings, voluntarily undergone in attestation of the accounts which they delivered, and solely in consequence of their belief of those accounts; and that they also submitted, from the same motives, to new rules of conduct. After thus considering what was likely to happen, we are next to inquire how the transaction is represented in the several accounts that have come down to us. And this inquiry is properly preceded by the other, forasmuch as the reception of these accounts may depend in part on the credibility of what they contain. The obscure and distant view of Christianity, which some of the heathen writers of that age had gained, and which a few passage in their remaining works incidentally discover to us, offers itself to our notice in the first place: because, so far as this evidence goes, it is the concession of adversaries; the source from which it is drawn is unsuspected. Under this head, a quotation from Tacitus, well known to every scholar, must be inserted, as deserving particular attention. The reader will bear in mind that this passage was written about seventy years after Christ's death, and that it relates to transactions which took place about thirty years after that event--Speaking of the fire which happened at Rome in the time of Nero, and of the suspicions which were entertained that the emperor himself was concerned in causing it, the historian proceeds in his narrative and observations thus:-- "But neither these exertions, nor his largesses to the people, nor his offerings to the gods, did away the infamous imputation under which Nero lay, of having ordered the city to be set on fire. To put an end, therefore, to this report, he laid the guilt, and inflicted the most cruel punishments, upon a set of people, who were holden in abhorrence for their crimes, and called by the vulgar, Christians. The founder of that name was Christ, who suffered death in the reign of Tiberius, under his procurator, Pontius Pilate--This pernicious superstition, thus checked for a while, broke out again; and spread not only over Judea, where the evil originated, but through Rome also, whither everything bad upon the earth finds its way and is practised. Some who confessed their sect were first seized, and afterwards, by their information, a vast multitude were apprehended, who were convicted, not so much of the crime of burning Rome, as of hatred to mankind. Their sufferings at their execution were aggravated by insult and mockery; for some were disguised in the skins of wild beasts, and worried to death by dogs; some were crucified; and others were wrapped in pitched shirts,* and set on fire when the day closed, that they might serve as lights to illuminate the night. Nero lent his own gardens for these executions, and exhibited at the same time a mock Circensian entertainment; being a spectator of the whole, in the dress of a charioteer, sometimes mingling with the crowd on foot, and sometimes viewing the spectacle from his car. This conduct made the sufferers pitied; and though they were criminals, and deserving the severest punishments, yet they were considered as sacrificed, not so much out of a regard to the public good, as to gratify the cruelty of one man." _________ * This is rather a paraphrase, but is justified by what the Scholiast upon Juvenal says; "Nero maleficos homines taeda et papyro et cera supervestiebat, et sic ad ignem admoveri jubebat." Lard. Jewish and Heath. Test. vol. i. p. 359. _________ Our concern with this passage at present is only so far as it affords a presumption in support of the proposition which we maintain, concerning the activity and sufferings of the first teachers of Christianity. Now, considered in this view, it proves three things: 1st, that the Founder of the institution was put to death; 2dly, that in the same country in which he was put to death, the religion, after a short check, broke out again and spread; 3dly, that it so spread as that, within thirty-four years from the Author's death, a very great number of Christians (ingens eorum multitudo) were found at Rome. From which fact, the two following inferences may be fairly drawn: first, that if, in the space of thirty-four years from its commencement, the religion had spread throughout Judea, had extended itself to Rome, and there had numbered a great multitude of converts, the original teachers and missionaries of the institution could not have been idle; secondly, that when the Author of the undertaking was put to death as a malefactor for his attempt, the endeavours of his followers to establish his religion in the same country, amongst the same people, and in the same age, could not but be attended with danger. Suetonius, a writer contemporary with Tacitus, describing the transactions of the same reign, uses these words: "Affecti suppliciis Christiani genus hominum superstitionis novae et maleficae." (Suet. Nero. Cap. 16) "The Christians, a set of men of a new and mischievous (or magical) superstition, were punished." Since it is not mentioned here that the burning of the city was the pretence of the punishment of the Christians, or that they were the Christians of Rome who alone suffered, it is probable that Suetonius refers to some more general persecution than the short and occasional one which Tacitus describes. Juvenal, a writer of the same age with the two former, and intending, it should seem, to commemorate the cruelties exercised under Nero's government, has the following lines: (Sat. i. ver. 155) "Pone Tigellinum, taeda lucebis in illa, Qua stantes ardent, qui fixo gutture fumant, Et latum media sulcum deducit arena" (Forsan "deducis.") "Describe Tigellinus (a creature of Nero), and you shall suffer the same punishment with those who stand burning in their own flame and smoke, their head being held up by a stake fixed to their chin, till they make a long stream of blood and melted sulphur on the ground." If this passage were considered by itself, the subject of allusion might be doubtful; but, when connected with the testimony of Suetonius, as to the actual punishment of the Christians by Nero, and with the account given by Tacitus of the species of punishment which they were made to undergo, I think it sufficiently probable that these were the executions to which the poet refers. These things, as has already been observed, took place within thirty-one years after Christ's death, that is, according to the course of nature, in the life-time, probably, of some of the apostles, and certainly in the life-time of those who were converted by the apostles, or who were converted in their time. If then the Founder of the religion was put to death in the execution of his design; if the first race of converts to the religion, many of them, suffered the greatest extremities for their profession; it is hardly credible, that those who came between the two, who were companions of the Author of the institution during his life, and the teachers and propagators of the institution after his death, could go about their undertaking with ease and safety. The testimony of the younger Pliny belongs to a later period; for, although he was contemporary with Tacitus and Suetonius, yet his account does not, like theirs, go back to the transactions of Nero's reign, but is confined to the affairs of his own time. His celebrated letter to Trajan was written about seventy years after Christ's death; and the information to be drawn from it, so far as it is connected with our argument, relates principally to two points: first, to the number of Christians in Bithynia and Pontus, which was so considerable as to induce the governor of these provinces to speak of them in the following terms: "Multi, omnis aetatis, utriusque sexus etiam;--neque enim civitates tantum, sed vicos etiam et agros, superstitionis istius contagio pervagata est." "There are many of every age and of both sexes;--nor has the contagion of this superstition seized cities only, but smaller towns also, and the open country." Great exertions must have been used by the preachers of Christianity to produce this state of things within this time. Secondly, to a point which has been already noticed, and, which I think of importance to be observed, namely, the sufferings to which Christians were exposed, without any public persecution being denounced against them by sovereign authority. For, from Pliny's doubt how he was to act, his silence concerning any subsisting law on the subject, his requesting the emperor's rescript, and the emperor, agreeably to his request, propounding a rule for his direction without reference to any prior rule, it may be inferred that there was, at that time, no public edict in force against the Christians. Yet from this same epistle of Pliny it appears "that accusations, trials, and examinations, were, and had been, going on against them in the provinces over which he presided; that schedules were delivered by anonymous informers, containing the names of persons who were suspected of holding or of favouring the religion; that, in consequence of these informations, many had been apprehended, of whom some boldly avowed their profession, and died in the cause; others denied that they were Christians; others, acknowledging that they had once been Christians, declared that they had long ceased to be such." All which demonstrates that the profession of Christianity was at that time (in that country at least) attended with fear and danger: and yet this took place without any edict from the Roman sovereign, commanding or authorizing the persecution of Christians. This observation is further confirmed by a rescript of Adrian to Minucius Fundanus, the proconsul of Asia (Lard. Heath. Test. vol. ii. p. 110): from which rescript it appears that the custom of the people of Asia was to proceed against the Christians with tumult and uproar. This disorderly practice, I say, is recognised in the edict, because the emperor enjoins, that, for the future, if the Christians were guilty, they should be legally brought to trial, and not be pursued by importunity and clamour. Martial wrote a few years before the younger Pliny: and, as his manner was, made the suffering of the Christians the subject of his ridicule. In matutina nuper spectatus arena Mucius, imposuit qui sua membra focis, Si patiens fortisque tibi durusque videtur, Abderitanae pectora plebis habes; Nam cum dicatur, tunica praesente molesta, Ure* manum: plus est dicere, Non facio. *Forsan "thure manum." Nothing, however, could show the notoriety of the fact with more certainty than this does. Martial's testimony, as well indeed as Pliny's, goes also to another point, viz, that the deaths of these men were martyrdom in the strictest sense, that is to say, were so voluntary, that it was in their power, at the time of pronouncing the sentence, to have averted the execution, by consenting to join in heathen sacrifices. The constancy, and by consequence the sufferings, of the Christians of this period, is also referred to by Epictetus, who imputes their intrepidity to madness, or to a kind of fashion or habit; and about fifty years afterwards, by Marcus Aurelius, who ascribes it to obstinacy. "Is it possible (Epictetus asks) that a man may arrive at this temper, and become indifferent to those things from madness or from habit, as the Galileans?" "Let this preparation of the mind (to die) arise from its own judgment, and not from obstinacy like the Christians." (Epict. I. iv. C. 7.) (Marc. Aur. Med. 1. xi. c. 3.) CHAPTER III. There is satisfactory evidence that many, professing to be original witnesses of the Christian miracles, passed there lives in labours, dangers, and sufferings, voluntarily undergone in attestation of the accounts which they delivered, and solely in consequence of their belief of those accounts; and that they also submitted, from the same motives, to new rules of conduct. Of the primitive condition of Christianity, a distant only and general view can be acquired from heathen writers. It is in our own books that the detail and interior of the transaction must be sought for. And this is nothing different from what might be expected. Who would write a history of Christianity, but a Christian? Who was likely to record the travels, sufferings, labours, or successes of the apostles, but one of their own number, or of their followers? Now these books come up in their accounts to the full extent of the proposition which we maintain. We have four histories of Jesus Christ. We have a history taking up the narrative from his death, and carrying on an account of the propagation of the religion, and of some of the most eminent persons engaged in it, for a space of nearly thirty years. We have, what some may think still more original, a collection of letters, written by certain principal agents in the business upon the business, and in the midst of their concern and connection with it. And we have these writings severally attesting the point which we contend for, viz. the sufferings of the witnesses of the history, and attesting it in every variety of form in which it can be conceived to appear: directly and indirectly, expressly and incidentally, by assertion, recital, and allusion, by narratives of facts, and by arguments and discourses built upon these facts, either referring to them, or necessarily presupposing them. I remark this variety, because, in examining ancient records, or indeed any species of testimony, it is, in my opinion, of the greatest importance to attend to the information or grounds of argument which are casually and undesignedly disclosed; forasmuch as this species of proof is, of all others, the least liable to be corrupted by fraud or misrepresentation. I may be allowed therefore, in the inquiry which is now before us, to suggest some conclusions of this sort, as preparatory to more direct testimony. 1. Our books relate, that Jesus Christ, the founder of the religion, was, in consequence of his undertaking, put to death, as a malefactor, at Jerusalem. This point at least will be granted, because it is no more than what Tacitus has recorded. They then proceed to tell us that the religion was, notwithstanding, set forth at this same city of Jerusalem, propagated thence throughout Judea, and afterwards preached in other parts of the Roman Empire. These points also are fully confirmed by Tacitus, who informs us that the religion, after a short check, broke out again in the country where it took its rise; that it not only spread throughout Judea, but had reached Rome, and that it had there great multitudes of converts: and all this within thirty years after its commencement. Now these facts afford a strong inference in behalf of the proposition which we maintain. What could the disciples of Christ expect for themselves when they saw their master put to death? Could they hope to escape the dangers in which he had perished? If they had persecuted me, they will also persecute you, was the warning of common sense. With this example before their eyes, they could not be without a full sense of the peril of their future enterprise. 2. Secondly, all the histories agree in representing Christ as foretelling the persecution of his followers:-- "Then shall they deliver you up to be afflicted, and shall kill you, and ye shall be hated of all nations for my name's sake." (Matt. xxiv. 9.) "When affliction or persecution ariseth for the word's sake, immediately they are offended." (Mark iv. 17. See also chap. x. 30.) "They shall lay hands on you, and persecute you, delivering you up to the synagogues, and into prisons, being brought before kings and rulers for my name's sake:--and ye shall be betrayed both by parents and brethren, and kinsfolks and friends, and some of you shall they cause to be put to death." (Luke xxi. 12--16. See also chap. xi. 49.) "The time cometh, that he that killed you will think that he doeth God service. And these things will they do unto you, because they have not known the Father, nor me. But these things have I told you, that when the time shall come, ye may remember that I told you of them." (John xvi. 4. See also chap. xv. 20; xvi. 33.) I am not entitled to argue from these passages, that Christ actually did foretell these events, and that they did accordingly come to pass; because that would be at once to assume the truth of the religion: but I am entitled to contend that one side or other of the following disjunction is true; either that the Evangelists have delivered what Christ really spoke, and that the event corresponded with the prediction; or that they put the prediction into Christ's mouth, because at the time of writing the history, the event had turned out so to be: for, the only two remaining suppositions appear in the highest degree incredible; which are, either that Christ filled the minds of his followers with fears and apprehensions, without any reason or authority for what he said, and contrary to the truth of the case; or that, although Christ had never foretold any such thing, and the event would have contradicted him if he had, yet historians who lived in the age when the event was known, falsely, as well as officiously, ascribed these words to him. 3. Thirdly, these books abound with exhortations to patience, and with topics of comfort under distress. "Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword? Nay, in all these things we are more than conquerors through Him that loved us." (Rom. viii. 35-37.) "We are troubled on every side, yet not distressed; we are perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not forsaken; cast down, but not destroyed; always bearing about in the body the dying of the Lord Jesus, that the life also of Jesus might be made manifest in our body;--knowing that he which raised up the Lord Jesus shall raise us up also by Jesus, and shall present us with you---For which cause we faint not; but, though our outward man perish, yet the inward man is renewed day by day. For our light affliction, which is but for a moment, worketh for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory." (2 Cor. iv. 8, 9, 10, 14, 16, 17.) "Take, my brethren, the prophets, who have spoken in the name of the Lord, for an example of suffering affliction, and of patience. Behold, we count them happy which endure. Ye have heard of the patience of Job, and have seen the end of the Lord; that the Lord is very pitiful, and of tender mercy." (James v. 10, 11.) "Call to remembrance the former days, in which, after ye were illuminated, ye endured a great fight of afflictions partly whilst ye were made a gazing-stock both by reproaches and afflictions, and partly whilst ye became companions of them that were so used; for ye had compassion of me in my bonds, and took joyfully the spoiling of your goods, knowing in yourselves that ye have in heaven a better and an enduring substance. Cast not away, therefore, your confidence, which hath great recompense of reward; for ye have need of patience, that, after ye have done the will of God, ye might receive the promise." (Heb. x. 32-36.) "So that we ourselves glory in you in the churches of God, for your patience and faith in all your persecutions and tribulations that ye endure. Which is a manifest token of the righteous judgment of God, that ye may be counted worthy of the kingdom for which ye also suffer." (2 Thess. i. 4, 5.) "We rejoice in hope of the glory of God; and not only so, but we glory in tribulations also; knowing that tribulation worketh patience, and patience experience, and experience hope." (Rom. v. 3, 4.) "Beloved, think it not strange concerning the fiery trial which is to try you, as though some strange thing happened unto you; but rejoice, inasmuch as ye are partakers of Christ's sufferings.--Wherefore let them that suffer according to the will of God commit the keeping of their souls to him in well doing, as unto a faithful Creator." (1 Pet. iv. 12, 13, 19.) What could all these texts mean, if there was nothing in the circumstances of the times which required patience,--which called for the exercise of constancy and resolution? Or will it be pretended, that these exhortations (which, let it be observed, come not from one author, but from many) were put in merely to induce a belief in after-ages, that the Christians were exposed to dangers which they were not exposed to, or underwent sufferings which they did not undergo? If these books belong to the age to which they lay claim, and in which age, whether genuine or spurious, they certainly did appear, this supposition cannot be maintained for a moment; because I think it impossible to believe that passages, which must be deemed not only unintelligible, but false, by the persons into whose hands the books upon their publication were to come, should nevertheless be inserted, for the purpose of producing an effect upon remote generations. In forgeries which do not appear till many ages after that to which they pretend to belong, it is possible that some contrivance of that sort may take place; but in no others can it be attempted. CHAPTER IV. There is satisfactory evidence that many professing to be original witnesses of the Christian miracles, passed their lives in labours, dangers, and sufferings, voluntarily undergone in attestation of the accounts which they delivered, and solely in consequence of their belief of those accounts; and that they also submitted, from the same motives, to new rules of conduct. The account of the treatment of the religion, and of the exertions of its first preachers, as stated in our Scriptures (not in a professed history of persecutions, or in the connected manner in which I am about to recite it, but dispersedly and occasionally, in the course of a mixed general history, which circumstance, alone negatives the supposition of any fraudulent design), is the following: "That the Founder of Christianity, from the commencement of his ministry to the time of his violent death, employed himself wholly in publishing the institution in Judea and Galilee; that, in order to assist him in this purpose, he made choice, out of the number of his followers, of twelve persons, who might accompany him as he travelled from place to place; that, except a short absence upon a journey in which he sent them two by two to announce his mission, and one of a few days, when they went before him to Jerusalem, these persons were steadily and constantly attending upon him; that they were with him at Jerusalem when he was apprehended and put to death; and that they were commissioned by him, when his own ministry was concluded, to publish his Gospel, and collect disciples to it from all countries of the world." The account then proceeds to state, "that a few days after his departure, these persons, with some of his relations, and some who had regularly frequented their society, assembled at Jerusalem; that, considering the office of preaching the religion as now devolved upon them, and one of their number having deserted the cause, and, repenting of his perfidy, having destroyed himself, they proceeded to elect another into his place, and that they were careful to make their election out of the number of those who had accompanied their master from the first to the last, in order, as they alleged, that he might be a witness, together with themselves, of the principal facts which they were about to produce and relate concerning him; ( Acts i. 12, 22.) that they began their work at Jerusalem by publicly asserting that this Jesus, whom the rulers and inhabitants of that place had so lately crucified, was, in truth, the person in whom all their prophecies and long expectations terminated; that he had been sent amongst them by God; and that he was appointed by God the future judge of the human species; that all who were solicitous to secure to themselves happiness after death, ought to receive him as such, and to make profession of their belief, by being baptised in his name." (Acts xi.) The history goes on to relate, "that considerable numbers accepted this proposal, and that they who did so formed amongst themselves a strict union and society; (Acts iv. 32.) that the attention of the Jewish government being soon drawn upon them, two of the principal persons of the twelve, and who also had lived most intimately and constantly with the Founder of the religion, were seized as they were discoursing to the people in the temple; that after being kept all night in prison, they were brought the next day before an assembly composed of the chief persons of the Jewish magistracy and priesthood; that this assembly, after some consultation, found nothing, at that time, better to be done towards suppressing the growth of the sect, than to threaten their prisoners with punishment if they persisted; that these men, after expressing, in decent but firm language, the obligation under which they considered themselves to be, to declare what they knew, 'to speak the things which they had seen and heard,' returned from the council, and reported what had passed to their companions; that this report, whilst it apprized them of the danger of their situation and undertaking, had no other effect upon their conduct than to produce in them a general resolution to persevere, and an earnest prayer to God to furnish them with assistance, and to inspire them with fortitude, proportioned to the increasing exigency of the service." ( Acts iv.) A very short time after this, we read "that all the twelve apostles were seized and cast into prison; ( Acts v. 18.) that, being brought a second time before the Jewish Sanhedrim, they were upbraided with their disobedience to the injunction which had been laid upon them, and beaten for their contumacy; that, being charged once more to desist, they were suffered to depart; that however they neither quitted Jerusalem, nor ceased from preaching, both daily in the temple, and from house to house (Acts v. 42.) and that the twelve considered themselves as so entirely and exclusively devoted to this office, that they now transferred what may be called the temporal affairs of the society to other hands."* _________ * I do not know that it has ever been insinuated that the Christian mission, in the hands of the apostles, was a scheme for making a fortune, or for getting money. But it may nevertheless be fit to remark upon this passage of their history, how perfectly free they appear to have been from any pecuniary or interested views whatever. The most tempting opportunity which occurred of making gain of their converts, was by the custody and management of the public funds, when some of the richer members, intending to contribute their fortunes to the common support of the society, sold their possessions, and laid down the prices at the apostles' feet. Yet, so insensible or undesirous were they of the advantage which that confidence afforded, that we find they very soon disposed of the trust, by putting it into the hands, not of nominees of their own, but of stewards formally elected for the purpose by the society at large. We may add also, that this excess of generosity, which cast private property into the public stock, was so far from being required by the apostles, or imposed as a law of Christianity, that Peter reminds Ananias that he had been guilty, in his behaviour, of an officious and voluntary prevarication; "for whilst," says he, "thy estate remained unsold, was it not thine own? And after it was sold, was it not in thine own power?" _________ Hitherto the preachers of the new religion seem to have had the common people on their side; which is assigned as the reason why the Jewish rulers did not, at this time, think it prudent to proceed to greater extremities. It was not long, however, before the enemies of the institution found means to represent it to the people as tending to subvert their law, degrade their lawgiver, and dishonour their temple. (Acts vi. 12.) And these insinuations were dispersed with so much success as to induce the people to join with their superiors in the stoning of a very active member of the new community. The death of this man was the signal of a general persecution, the activity of which may be judged of from one anecdote of the time:--"As for Saul, he made havoc of the church, entering into every house, and taking men and women committed them to prison." (Acts viii. 3.) This persecution raged at Jerusalem with so much fury as to drive most of the new converts out of the place,* except the twelve apostles. The converts thus "scattered abroad," preached the religion wherever they came; and their preaching was, in effect, the preaching of the twelve; for it was so far carried on in concert and correspondence with them, that when they heard of the success of their emissaries in a particular country, they sent two of their number to the place, to complete and confirm the mission. _________ *Acts viii. I. "And they were all scattered abroad;" but the term "all" is not, I think, to be taken strictly as denoting more than the generality; in like manner as in Acts ix. 35: "And all that dwelt at Lydda and Saron saw him, and turned to the Lord." _________ An event now took place, of great importance in the future history of the religion. The persecution which had begun at Jerusalem followed the Christians to other cities, ( Acts ix.) in which the authority of the Jewish Sanhedrim over those of their own nation was allowed to be exercised. A young man, who had signalized himself by his hostility to the profession, and had procured a commission from the council at Jerusalem to seize any converted Jews whom he might find at Damascus, suddenly became a proselyte to the religion which he was going about to extirpate. The new convert not only shared, on this extraordinary change, the fate of his companions, but brought upon himself a double measure of enmity from the party which he had left. The Jews at Damascus, on his return to that city, watched the gates night and day, with so much diligence, that he escaped from their hands only by being let down in a basket by the wall. Nor did he find himself in greater safety at Jerusalem, whither he immediately repaired. Attempts were there also soon set on foot to destroy him; from the danger of which he was preserved by being sent away to Cilicia, his native country. For some reason not mentioned, perhaps not known, but probably connected with the civil history of the Jews, or with some danger* which engrossed the public attention, an intermission about this time took place in the sufferings of the Christians. This happened, at the most, only seven or eight, perhaps only three or four years after Christ's death, within which period, and notwithstanding that the late persecution occupied part of it, churches, or societies of believers, had been formed in all Judea, Galilee, and Samaria; for we read that the churches in these countries "had now rest and were edified, and, walking in the fear of the Lord, and in the comfort of the Holy Ghost, were multiplied." (Acts ix 31.) The original preachers of the religion did not remit their labours or activity during this season of quietness; for we find one, and he a very principal person among them, passing throughout all quarters. We find also those who had been before expelled from Jerusalem by the persecution which raged there, travelling as far as Poenice, Cyprus, and Antioch; (Acts xi. 19.) and lastly, we find Jerusalem again in the centre of the mission, the place whither the preachers returned from their several excursions, where they reported the conduct and effects of their ministry, where questions of public concern were canvassed and settled, whence directions were sought, and teachers sent forth. _________ * Dr. Lardner (in which he is followed also by Dr. Benson) ascribes the cessation of the persecution of the Christians to the attempt of Caligula to set up his own statue in the temple of Jerusalem, and to the consternation thereby excited in the minds of the Jewish people; which consternation for a season superseded every other contest. _________ The time of this tranquillity did not, however, continue long. Herod Agrippa, who had lately acceded to the government of Judea, "stretched forth his hand to vex certain of the church." (Acts xii. 1.) He began his cruelty by beheading one of the twelve original apostles, a kinsman and constant companion of the Founder of the religion. Perceiving that this execution gratified the Jews, he proceeded to seize, in order to put to death, another of the number,--and him, like the former, associated with Christ during his life, and eminently active in the service since his death. This man was, however, delivered from prison, as the account states miraculously, (Acts xii. 3--17.) and made his escape from Jerusalem. These things are related, not in the general terms under which, in giving the outlines of the history, we have here mentioned them, but with the utmost particularity of names, persons, places, and circumstances; and, what is deserving of notice, without the smallest discoverable propensity in the historian, to magnify the fortitude, or exaggerate the sufferings, of his party. When they fled for their lives, he tells us. When the churches had rest, he remarks it. When the people took their part, he does not leave it without notice. When the apostles were carried a second time before the Sanhedrim, he is careful to observe that they were brought without violence. When milder counsels were suggested, he gives us the author of the advice and the speech which contained it. When, in consequence of this advice, the rulers contented themselves with threatening the apostles, and commanding them to be beaten with stripes, without urging at that time the persecution further, the historian candidly and distinctly records their forbearance. When, therefore, in other instances, he states heavier persecutions, or actual martyrdoms, it is reasonable to believe that he states them because they were true, and not from any wish to aggravate, in his account, the sufferings which Christians sustained, or to extol, more than it deserved, their patience under them. Our history now pursues a narrower path. Leaving the rest of the apostles, and the original associates of Christ, engaged in the propagation of the new faith, (and who there is not the least reason to believe abated in their diligence or courage,) the narrative proceeds with the separate memoirs of that eminent teacher, whose extraordinary and sudden conversion to the religion, and corresponding change of conduct, had before been circumstantially described. This person, in conjunction with another, who appeared among the earlier members of the society at Jerusalem, and amongst the immediate adherents of the twelve apostles, (Acts iv. 36.) set out from Antioch upon the express business of carrying the new religion through the various provinces of the Lesser Asia. (Acts xiii. 2.) During this expedition, we find that in almost every place to which they came, their persons were insulted, and their lives endangered. After being expelled from Antioch in Pisidia, they repaired to Iconium. (Acts xiii. 51.) At Iconium, an attempt was made to stone them; at Lystra, whither they fled from Iconium, one of them actually was stoned and drawn out of the city for dead. (Acts xiv. 19.) These two men, though not themselves original apostles, were acting in connection and conjunction with the original apostles; for, after the completion of their journey, being sent on a particular commission to Jerusalem, they there related to the apostles (Acts xv. 12--26.) and elders the events and success of their ministry, and were in return recommended by them to the churches, "as men who had hazarded their lives in the cause." The treatment which they had experienced in the first progress did not deter them from preparing for a second. Upon a dispute, however, arising between them, but not connected with the common subject of their labours, they acted as wise and sincere men would act; they did not retire in disgust from the service in which they were engaged, but, each devoting his endeavours to the advancement of the religion, they parted from one another, and set forward upon separate routes. The history goes along with one of them; and the second enterprise to him was attended with the same dangers and persecutions as both had met with in the first. The apostle's travels hitherto had been confined to Asia. He now crosses for the first time the Aegean sea, and carries with him, amongst others, the person whose accounts supply the information we are stating. (Acts xvi. 11.) The first place in Greece at which he appears to have stopped, was Philippi in Macedonia. Here himself and one of his companions were cruelly whipped, cast into prison, and kept there under the most rigorous custody, being thrust, whilst yet smarting with their wounds, into the inner dungeon, and their feet made fast in the stocks. (Acts xvi. 23, 24, 33.) Notwithstanding this unequivocal specimen of the usage which they had to look for in that country, they went forward in the execution of their errand. After passing through Amphipolis and Apollonia, they came to Thessalonica; in which city the house in which they lodged was assailed by a party of their enemies, in order to bring them out to the populace. And when, fortunately for their preservation, they were not found at home, the master of the house was dragged before the magistrate for admitting them within his doors. (Acts xvii. 1--5.) Their reception at the next city was something better: but neither had they continued long before their turbulent adversaries the Jews, excited against them such commotions amongst the inhabitants as obliged the apostle to make his escape by a private journey to Athens. (Acts xvii. 13.) The extremity of the progress was Corinth. His abode in this city, for some time, seems to have been without molestation. At length, however, the Jews found means to stir up an insurrection against him, and to bring him before the tribunal of the Roman president. (Acts xviii. 12.) It was to the contempt which that magistrate entertained for the Jews and their controversies, of which he accounted Christianity to be one, that our apostle owed his deliverance. (Acts xviii. 15.) This indefatigable teacher, after leaving Corinth, returned by Ephesus into Syria; and again visited Jerusalem, and the society of Christians in that city, which, as hath been repeatedly observed, still continued the centre of the mission. (Acts xviii. 22.) It suited not, however, with the activity of his zeal to remain long at Jerusalem. We find him going thence to Antioch, and, after some stay there, traversing once more the northern provinces of Asia Minor. (Acts xviii. 23.) This progress ended at Ephesus: in which city, the apostle continued in the daily exercise of his ministry two years, and until his success, at length, excited the apprehensions of those who were interested in the support of the national worship. Their clamour produced a tumult, in which he had nearly lost his life. (Acts xix. 1, 9, 10.) Undismayed, however, by the dangers to which he saw himself exposed, he was driven from Ephesus only to renew his labours in Greece. After passing over Macedonia, he thence proceeded to his former station at Corinth. (Acts xx. 1, 2.) When he had formed his design of returning by a direct course from Corinth into Syria, he was compelled by a conspiracy of the Jews, who were prepared to intercept him on his way, to trace back his steps through Macedonia to Philippi, and thence to take shipping into Asia. Along the coast of Asia, he pursued his voyage with all the expedition he could command, in order to reach Jerusalem against the feast of Pentecost. (Acts xx. 16.) His reception at Jerusalem was of a piece with the usage he had experienced from the Jews in other places. He had been only a few days in that city, when the populace, instigated by some of his old opponents in Asia, who attended this feast, seized him in the temple, forced him out of it, and were ready immediately to have destroyed him, had not the sudden presence of the Roman guard rescued him out of their hands. (Acts xxi. 27--33.) The officer, however, who had thus seasonably interposed, acted from his care of the public peace, with the preservation of which he was charged, and not from any favour to the apostle, or indeed any disposition to exercise either justice or humanity towards him; for he had no sooner secured his person in the fortress, than he was proceeding to examine him by torture. (Acts xxii 24.) From this time to the conclusion of the history, the apostle remains in public custody of the Roman government. After escaping assassination by a fortunate discovery of the plot, and delivering himself from the influence of his enemies by an appeal to the audience of the emperor, (Acts xxv. 9, 11.) he was sent, but not until he had suffered two years' imprisonment, to Rome. (Acts xxiv. 27.) He reached Italy after a tedious voyage, and after encountering in his passage the perils of a desperate shipwreck. (Acts xxvii.) But although still a prisoner, and his fate still depending, neither the various and long-continued sufferings which he had undergone, nor the danger of his present situation, deterred him from persisting in preaching the religion: for the historian closes the account by telling us that, for two years, he received all that came unto him in his own hired house, where he was permitted to dwell with a soldier that guarded him, "preaching the kingdom of God, and teaching those things which concern the Lord Jesus Christ, with all confidence." Now the historian, from whom we have drawn this account, in the part of his narrative which relates to Saint Paul, is supported by the strongest corroborating testimony that a history can receive. We are in possession of letters written by Saint Paul himself upon the subject of his ministry, and either written during the period which the history comprises, or, if written afterwards, reciting and referring to the transactions of that period. These letters, without borrowing from the history, or the history from them, unintentionally confirm the account which the history delivers, in a great variety of particulars. What belongs to our present purpose is the description exhibited of the apostle's sufferings: and the representation, given in our history, of the dangers and distresses which he underwent not only agrees in general with the language which he himself uses whenever he speaks of his life or ministry, but is also, in many instances, attested by a specific correspondency of time, place, and order of events. If the historian put down in his narrative, that at Philippi the apostle "was beaten with many stripes, cast into prison, and there treated with rigour and indignity;" (Acts xvi. 23, 24.) we find him, in a letter to a neighbouring church, (I Thess. ii. 2.) reminding his converts that, "after he had suffered before, and was shamefully entreated at Philippi, he was bold, nevertheless, to speak unto them (to whose city he next came) the Gospel of God." If the history relates that, (Acts xvii. 5.) at Thessalonica, the house in which the apostle was lodged, when he first came to that place, was assaulted by the populace, and the master of it dragged before the magistrate for admitting such a guest within his doors; the apostle, in his letter to the Christians of Thessalonica, calls to their remembrance "how they had received the Gospel in much affliction." (1 Thess. i. 6.) If the history deliver an account of an insurrection at Ephesus, which had nearly cost the apostle his life, we have the apostle himself, in a letter written a short time after his departure from that city, describing his despair, and returning thanks for his deliverance. (Acts xix. 2 Cor. i. 8--10.) If the history inform us, that the apostle was expelled from Antioch in Pisidia, attempted to be stoned at Iconium, and actually stoned at Lystra; there is preserved a letter from him to a favourite convert, whom, as the same history tells us, he first met with in these parts; in which letter he appeals to that disciple's knowledge "of the persecutions which befell him at Antioch, at Iconium, at Lystra." (Acts xiii. 50; xiv. 5, 19. 2 Tim. 10, 11.) If the history make the apostle, in his speech to the Ephesian elders, remind them, as one proof of the disinterestedness of his views, that, to their knowledge, he had supplied his own and the necessities of his companions by personal labour; (Acts xx. 34.) we find the same apostle, in a letter written during his residence at Ephesus, asserting of himself, "that even to that hour he laboured, working with his own hands." (1 Cor. iv 11, 12.) These coincidences, together with many relative to other parts of the apostle's history, and all drawn from independent sources, not only confirm the truth of the account, in the particular points as to which they are observed, but add much to the credit of the narrative in all its parts; and support the author's profession of being a contemporary of the person whose history he writes, and, throughout a material portion of his narrative, a companion. What the epistles of the apostles declare of the suffering state of Christianity the writings which remain of their companions and immediate followers expressly confirm. Clement, who is honourably mentioned by Saint Paul in his epistle to the Philippians, (Philipp. iv. 3.) hath left us his attestation to this point, in the following words: "Let us take (says he) the examples of our own age. Through zeal and envy, the most faithful and righteous pillars of the church have been persecuted even to the most grievous deaths. Let us set before our eyes the holy apostles. Peter, by unjust envy, underwent not one or two, but many sufferings; till at last, being martyred, he went to the place of glory that was due unto him. For the same cause did Paul, in like manner, receive the reward of his patience. Seven times he was in bonds; he was whipped, was stoned; he preached both in the East and in the West, leaving behind him the glorious report of his faith; and so having taught the whole world righteousness, and for that end travelled even unto the utmost bounds of the West, he at last suffered martyrdom by the command of the governors, and departed out of the world, and went unto his holy place, being become a most eminent pattern of patience unto all ages. To these holy apostles were joined a very great number of others, who, having through envy undergone, in like manner, many pains and torments, have left a glorious example to us. For this, not only men, but women, have been persecuted; and, having suffered very grievous and cruel punishments, have finished the course of their faith with firmness." (Clem. ad Cor. c. v. vi. Abp. Wake's Trans.) Hermas, saluted by Saint Paul in his epistle to the Romans, in a piece very little connected with historical recitals, thus speaks: "Such as have believed and suffered death for the name of Christ, and have endured with a ready mind, and have given up their lives with all their hearts." (Shepherd of Hermas, c. xxviii.) Polycarp, the disciple of John (though all that remains of his works be a very short epistle), has not left this subject unnoticed. "I exhort (says he) all of you, that ye obey the word of righteousness, and exercise all patience, which ye have seen set forth before your eyes, not only in the blessed Ignatius, and Lorimus, and Rufus, but in others among yourselves, and in Paul himself and the rest of the apostles; being confident in this, that all these have not run in vain, but in faith and righteousness; and are gone to the place that was due to them from the Lord, with whom also they suffered. For they loved not this present world, but him who died, and was raised again by God for us." (Pol. ad Phil c. ix.) Ignatius, the contemporary of Polycarp, recognises the same topic, briefly indeed, but positively and precisely. "For this cause, (i. e. having felt and handled Christ's body at his resurrection, and being convinced, as Ignatius expresses it, both by his flesh and spirit,) they (i. e. Peter, and those who were present with Peter at Christ's appearance) despised death, and were found to be above it." (19. Ep. Smyr. c. iii.) Would the reader know what a persecution in those days was, I would refer him to a circular letter, written by the church of Smyrna soon after the death of Polycarp, who it will be remembered, had lived with Saint John; and which letter is entitled a relation of that bishop's martyrdom. "The sufferings (say they) of all the other martyrs were blessed and generous, which they underwent according to the will of God. For so it becomes us, who are more religious than others, to ascribe the power and ordering of all things unto Him. And, indeed, who can choose but admire the greatness of their minds, and that admirable patience and love of their Master, which then appeared in them? Who, when they were so flayed with whipping that the frame and structure of their bodies were laid open to their very inward veins and arteries, nevertheless endured it. In like manner, those who were condemned to the beasts, and kept a long time in prison, underwent many cruel torments, being forced to lie upon sharp spikes laid under their bodies, and tormented with divers other sorts of punishments; that so, if it were possible, the tyrant, by the length of their sufferings, might have brought them to deny Christ." (Rel. Mor. Pol. c. ii.) CHAPTER V. There is satisfactory evidence that many, professing to be original witnesses of the Christian miracles, passed their lives in labours, dangers, and sufferings, voluntarily undergone in attestation of the accounts which they delivered, and solely in consequence of their belief of those accounts; and that they also submitted, from the same motives, to new rules of conduct. On the history, of which the last chapter contains an abstract, there are a few observations which it may be proper to make, by way of applying its testimony to the particular propositions for which we contend. I. Although our Scripture history leaves the general account of the apostles in an early part of the narrative, and proceeds with the separate account of one particular apostle, yet the information which it delivers so far extends to the rest, as it shows the nature of the service. When we see one apostle suffering persecution in the discharge of this commission, we shall not believe, without evidence, that the same office could, at the same time, be attended with ease and safety to others. And this fair and reasonable inference is confirmed by the direct attestation of the letters, to which we have so often referred. The writer of these letters not only alludes, in numerous passages, to his own sufferings, but speaks of the rest of the apostles as enduring like sufferings with himself. "I think that God hath set forth us the apostles last, as it were, appointed to death; for we are made a spectacle unto the world, and to angels, and to men; even unto this present hour, we both hunger and thirst, and are naked, and are buffeted, and have no certain dwelling-place; and labour, working with our own hands: being reviled, we bless; being persecuted, we suffer it; being defamed, we entreat: we are made as the filth of the earth, and as the offscouring of all things unto this day." (I Cor. iv. 9, et seq.) Add to which, that in the short account that is given of the other apostles in the former part of the history, and within the short period which that account comprises, we find, first, two of them seized, imprisoned, brought before the Sanhedrim, and threatened with further punishment; (Acts iv. 3, 21.) then, the whole number imprisoned and beaten; (Acts v. 18, 40.) soon afterwards, one of their adherents stoned to death, and so hot a persecution raised against the sect as to drive most of them out of the place; a short time only succeeding, before one of the twelve was beheaded, and another sentenced to the same fate; and all this passing in the single city of Jerusalem, and within ten years after the Founder's death, and the commencement of the institution. II. We take no credit at present for the miraculous part of the narrative, nor do we insist upon the correctness of single passages of it. If the whole story be not a novel, a romance; the whole action a dream; if Peter, and James, and Paul, and the rest of the apostles mentioned in the account, be not all imaginary persons; if their letters be not all forgeries, and, what is more, forgeries of names and characters which never existed; then is there evidence in our hands sufficient to support the only fact we contend for (and which, I repeat again, is, in itself, highly probable), that the original followers of Jesus Christ exerted great endeavours to propagate his religion, and underwent great labours, dangers, and sufferings, in consequence of their undertaking. III. The general reality of the apostolic history is strongly confirmed by the consideration, that it, in truth, does no more than assign adequate causes for effects which certainly were produced; and describe consequences naturally resulting from situations which certainly existed. The effects were certainly there, of which this history sets forth the cause, and origin, and progress. It is acknowledged on all hands, because it is recorded by other testimony than that of the Christians themselves, that the religion began to prevail at that time, and in that country. It is very difficult to conceive how it could begin without the exertions of the Founder and his followers, in propagating the new persuasion. The history now in our hands describes these exertions, the persons employed, the means and endeavours made use of, and the labours undertaken in the prosecution of this purpose. Again, the treatment which the history represents the first propagators of the religion to have experienced was no other than what naturally resulted from the situation in which they were confessedly placed. It is admitted that the religion was adverse, in great degree, to the reigning opinions, and to the hopes and wishes of the nation to which it was first introduced; and that it overthrew, so far as it was received, the established theology and worship of every other country. We cannot feel much reluctance in believing that when the messengers of such a system went about not only publishing their opinions, but collecting proselytes, and forming regular societies of proselytes, they should meet with opposition in their attempts, or that this opposition should sometimes proceed to fatal extremities. Our history details examples of this opposition, and of the sufferings and dangers which the emissaries of the religion underwent, perfectly agreeable to what might reasonably be expected, from the nature of their undertaking, compared with the character of the age and country in which it was carried on. IV. The records before us supply evidence of what formed another member of our general proposition, and what, as hath already been observed, is highly probable, and almost a necessary consequence of their new profession, viz., that, together with activity and courage in propagating the religion, the primitive followers of Jesus assumed, upon their conversion, a new and peculiar course of private life. Immediately after their Master was withdrawn from them, we hear of their "continuing with one accord in prayer and supplication;" (Acts i. 14.) of their "continuing daily with one accord in the temple" (Acts ii. 46.) Of "many being gathered together praying." (Acts xii. 12.) We know that strict instructions were laid upon the converts by their teachers. Wherever they came, the first word of their preaching was, "Repent!" We know that these injunctions obliged them to refrain from many species of licentiousness, which were not, at that time, reputed criminal. We know the rules of purity, and the maxims of benevolence, which Christians read in their books; concerning which rules it is enough to observe, that, if they were, I will not say completely obeyed, but in any degree regarded, they could produce a system of conduct, and, what is more difficult to preserve, a disposition of mind, and a regulation of affections, different from anything to which they had hitherto been accustomed, and different from what they would see in others. The change and distinction of manners, which resulted from their new character, is perpetually referred to in the letters of their teachers. "And you hath he quickened, who were dead in trespasses and sins, wherein in times past ye walked, according to the course of this world, according to the prince of the power of the air, the Spirit that now worketh in the children of disobedience; among whom also we all had our conversation in times past, in the lusts of our flesh, fulfilling the desires of the flesh, and of the mind, and were by nature the children of wrath, even as others." (Eph. ii 1-3. See also Tit. iii. 3.)--"For the time past of our life may suffice us to have wrought the will of the Gentiles, when we walked in lasciviousness, lusts, excess of wine, revellings, banquetings, and abominable idolatries; wherein they think it strange that ye run not with them to the same excess of riot." (1 Pet. iv. 3, 4.) Saint Paul, in his first letter to the Corinthians, after enumerating, as his manner was, a catalogue of vicious characters, adds, "Such were some of you; but ye are washed, but ye are sanctified." (1 Cor. vi. 11.) In like manner, and alluding to the same change of practices and sentiments, he asked the Roman Christians, "what fruit they had in those things, whereof they are now ashamed?" (Rom. vi. 21.) The phrases which the same writer employs to describe the moral condition of Christians, compared with their condition before they became Christians, such as "newness of life," being "freed from sin," being "dead to sin;" "the destruction of the body of sin, that, for the future, they should not serve sin;" "children of light and of the day," as opposed to "children of darkness and of the night;" "not sleeping as others;" imply, at least, a new system of obligation, and, probably, a new series of conduct, commencing with their conversion. The testimony which Pliny bears to the behaviour of the new sect in his time, and which testimony comes not more than fifty years after that of St. Paul, is very applicable to the subject under consideration. The character which this writer gives of the Christians of that age, and which was drawn from a pretty accurate inquiry, because he considered their moral principles as the point in which the magistrate was interested, is as follows:--He tells the emperor, "that some of those who had relinquished the society, or who, to save themselves, pretended that they had relinquished it, affirmed that they were wont to meet together on a stated day, before it was light, and sang among themselves alternately a hymn to Christ as a God; and to bind themselves by an oath, not to the commission of any wickedness, but that they would not be guilty of theft, or robbery, or adultery; that they would never falsify their word, or deny a pledge committed to them, when called upon to return it." This proves that a morality, more pure and strict than was ordinary, prevailed at that time in Christian societies. And to me it appears, that we are authorised to carry his testimony back to the age of the apostles; because it is not probable that the immediate hearers and disciples of Christ were more relaxed than their successors in Pliny's time, or the missionaries of the religion than those whom they taught. CHAPTER VI. There is satisfactory evidence that many professing to be original witnesses of the Christian miracles, passed their lives in labours, dangers, and sufferings, voluntarily undergone in attestation of the accounts which they delivered, and solely in consequence of their belief of those accounts; and that they also submitted, from the same motives, to new rules of conduct. When we consider, first, the prevalency of the religion at this hour; secondly, the only credible account which can be given of its origin, viz. the activity of the Founder and his associates; thirdly, the opposition which that activity must naturally have excited; fourthly, the fate of the Founder of the religion, attested by heathen writers, as well as our own; fifthly, the testimony of the same writers to the sufferings of Christians, either contemporary with, or immediately succeeding, the original settlers of the institution; sixthly, predictions of the suffering of his followers ascribed to the Founder of the religion, which ascription alone proves, either that such predictions were delivered and fulfilled, or that the writers of Christ's life were induced by the event to attribute such predictions to him; seventhly, letters now in our possession, written by some of the principal agents in the transaction, referring expressly to extreme labours, dangers, and sufferings, sustained by themselves and their companions; lastly, a history purporting to be written by a fellow-traveller of one of the new teachers, and, by its unsophisticated correspondency with letters of that person still extant, proving itself to be written by some one well acquainted with the subject of the narrative, which history contains accounts of travels, persecutions, and martyrdoms, answering to what the former reasons lead us to expect: when we lay together these considerations, which taken separately are, I think correctly such as I have stated them in the preceding chapters, there cannot much doubt remain upon our minds but that a number of persons at that time appeared in the world, publicly advancing an extraordinary story, and for the sake of propagating the belief of that story, voluntarily incurring great personal dangers, traversing seas and kingdoms, exerting great industry, and sustaining great extremities of ill usage and persecution. It is also proved that the same persons, in consequence of their persuasion, or pretended persuasion, of the truth of what they asserted, entered upon a course of life in many respects new and singular. From the clear and acknowledged parts of the case, I think it to be likewise in the highest degree probable, that the story for which these persons voluntarily exposed themselves to the fatigues and hardships which they endured was a miraculous story; I mean, that they pretended to miraculous evidence of some kind or other. They had nothing else to stand upon. The designation of the person, that is to say, that Jesus of Nazareth, rather than any other person, was the Messiah, and as such the subject of their ministry, could only be founded upon supernatural tokens attributed to him. Here were no victories, no conquests, no revolutions, no surprising elevation of fortune, no achievements of valour, of strength, or of policy, to appeal to; no discoveries in any art or science, no great efforts of genius or learning to produce. A Galilean peasant was announced to the world as a divine lawgiver. A young man of mean condition, of a private and simple life, and who had wrought no deliverance for the Jewish nation, was declared to be their Messiah. This, without ascribing to him at the same time some proofs of his mission, (and what other but supernatural proofs could there be?) was too absurd a claim to be either imagined, or attempted, or credited. In whatever degree, or in whatever part, the religion was argumentative, when it came to the question, "Is the carpenter's son of Nazareth the person whom we are to receive and obey?" there was nothing but the miracles attributed to him by which his pretensions could be maintained for a moment. Every controversy and every question must presuppose these: for, however such controversies, when they did arise, might and naturally would, be discussed upon their own grounds of argumentation, without citing the miraculous evidence which had been asserted to attend the Founder of the religion (which would have been to enter upon another, and a more general question), yet we are to bear in mind, that without previously supposing the existence or the pretence of such evidence, there could have been no place for the discussion of the argument at all. Thus, for example, whether the prophecies, which the Jews interpreted to belong to the Messiah, were or were not applicable to the history of Jesus of Nazareth, was a natural subject of debate in those times; and the debate would proceed without recurring at every turn to his miracles, because it set out with supposing these; inasmuch as without miraculous marks and tokens (real or pretended), or without some such great change effected by his means in the public condition of the country, as might have satisfied the then received interpretation of these prophecies, I do not see how the question could ever have been entertained. Apollos, we read, "mightily convinced the Jews, showing by the Scriptures that Jesus was Christ;" (Acts xviii. 28.) but unless Jesus had exhibited some distinction of his person, some proof of supernatural power, the argument from the old Scriptures could have had no place. It had nothing to attach upon. A young man calling himself the Son of God, gathering a crowd about him, and delivering to them lectures of morality, could not have excited so much as a doubt among the Jews, whether he was the object in whom a long series of ancient prophecies terminated, from the completion of which they had formed such magnificent expectations, and expectations of a nature so opposite to what appeared; I mean no such doubt could exist when they had the whole case before them, when they saw him put to death for his officiousness, and when by his death the evidence concerning him was closed. Again, the effect of the Messiah's coming, supposing Jesus to have been he, upon Jews, upon Gentiles, upon their relation to each other, upon their acceptance with God, upon their duties and their expectations; his nature, authority, office, and agency; were likely to become subjects of much consideration with the early votaries of the religion, and to occupy their attention and writings. I should not however expect, that in these disquisitions, whether preserved in the form of letters, speeches, or set treatises, frequent or very direct mention of his miracles would occur. Still, miraculous evidence lay at the bottom of the argument. In the primary question, miraculous pretensions and miraculous pretensions alone, were what they had to rely upon. That the original story was miraculous, is very fairly also inferred from the miraculous powers which were laid claim to by the Christians of succeeding ages. If the accounts of these miracles be true, it was a continuation of the same powers; if they be false, it was an imitation, I will not say of what had been wrought, but of what had been reported to have been wrought, by those who preceded them. That imitation should follow reality, fiction should be grafted upon truth; that, if miracles were performed at first, miracles should be pretended afterwards; agrees so well with the ordinary course of human affairs, that we can have no great difficulty in believing it. The contrary supposition is very improbable, namely, that miracles should be pretended to by the followers of the apostles and first emissaries of the religion, when none were pretended to, either in their own persons or that of their Master, by these apostles and emissaries themselves. CHAPTER VII. There is satisfactory evidence that many, professing to be original witnesses of the Christian miracles, passed their lives in labours, dangers, and sufferings, voluntarily undergone in attestation of the accounts which they delivered, and solely in consequence of their belief of those accounts; and that they also submitted, from the same motives, to new rules of conduct. It being then once proved, that the first propagators of the Christian institution did exert activity, and subject themselves to great dangers and sufferings, in consequence and for the sake of an extraordinary and, I think, we may say, of a miraculous story of some kind or other; the next great question is, whether the account, which our Scriptures contain, be that story; that which these men delivered, and for which they acted and suffered as they did? This question is, in effect, no other than whether the story which Christians have now be the story which Christians had then? And of this the following proofs may be deduced from general considerations, and from considerations prior to any inquiry into the particular reasons and testimonies by which the authority of our histories is supported. In the first place, there exists no trace or vestige of any other story. It is not, like the death of Cyrus the Great, a competition between opposite accounts, or between the credit of different historians. There is not a document, or scrap of account, either contemporary with the commencement of Christianity, or extant within many ages afar that commencement, which assigns a history substantially different from ours. The remote, brief, and incidental notices of the affair which are found in heathen writers, so far as they do go, go along with us. They bear testimony to these facts--that the institution originated from Jesus; that the Founder was put to death, as a malefactor, at Jerusalem, by the authority of the Roman governor, Pontius Pilate; that the religion nevertheless spread in that city, and throughout Judea; and that it was propagated thence to distant countries; that the converts were numerous; that they suffered great hardships and injuries for their profession; and that all this took place in the age of the world which our books have assigned. They go on, further, to describe the manners of Christians in terms perfectly conformable to the accounts extant in our books; that they were wont to assemble on a certain day; that they sang hymns to Christ as to a God; that they bound themselves by an oath not to commit any crime, but to abstain from theft and adultery, to adhere strictly to their promises, and not to deny money deposited in their hands;* that they worshipped him who was crucified in Palestine; that this their first lawgiver had taught them that they were all brethren; that they had a great contempt for the things of this world, and looked upon them as common; that they flew to one another's relief; that they cherished strong hopes of immortality; that they despised death, and surrendered themselves to sufferings.+ _________ * See Pliny's Letter--Bonnet, in his lively way of expressing himself, says,--"Comparing Pliny's Letter with the account of the Acts, it seems to me that I had not taken up another author, but that I was still reading the historian of that extraordinary society." This is strong; but there is undoubtedly an affinity, and all the affinity that could be expected. + "It is incredible, what expedition they use when any of their friends are known to be in trouble. In a word, they spare nothing upon such an occasion;--for these miserable men have no doubt they shall be immortal and live for ever; therefore they contemn death, and many surrender themselves to sufferings. Moreover, their first lawgiver has taught them that they are all brethren, when once they have turned and renounced the gods of the Greeks, and worship this Master of theirs who was crucified, and engage to live according to his laws. They have also a sovereign contempt for all the things of this world, and look upon them as common." Lucian, de Morte Peregrini, t. i. p. 565, ed. Graev. _________ This is the account of writers who viewed the subject at a great distance; who were uninformed and uninterested about it. It bears the characters of such an account upon the face of it, because it describes effects, namely the appearance in the world of a new religion, and the conversion of great multitudes to it, without descending, in the smallest degree, to the detail of the transaction upon which it was founded, the interior of the institution, the evidence or arguments offered by those who drew over others to it. Yet still here is no contradiction of our story; no other or different story set up against it: but so far a confirmation of it as that, in the general points on which the heathen account touches, it agrees with that which we find in our own books. The same may be observed of the very few Jewish writers of that and the adjoining period, which have come down to us. Whatever they omit, or whatever difficulties we may find in explaining the omission, they advance no other history of the transaction than that which we acknowledge. Josephus, who wrote his Antiquities, or History of the Jews, about sixty years after the commencement of Christianity, in a passage generally admitted as genuine, makes mention of John under the name of John the Baptist; that he was a preacher of virtue; that he baptized his proselytes; that he was well received by the people; that he was imprisoned and put to death by Herod; and that Herod lived in a criminal cohabitation with Herodias, his brother's wife. (Antiq. I. xviii. cap. v. sect. 1, 2.) In another passage allowed by many, although not without considerable question being moved about it, we hear of "James, the brother of him who was called Jesus, and of his being put to death." (Antiq. I. xx. cap. ix. sect. 1.) In a third passage, extant in every copy that remains of Josephus's history, but the authenticity of which has nevertheless been long disputed, we have an explicit testimony to the substance of our history in these words:--"At that time lived Jesus, a wise man, if he may be called a man, for he performed many wonderful works. He was a teacher of such men as received the truth with pleasure. He drew over to him many Jews and Gentiles. This was the Christ; and when Pilate, at the instigation of the chief men among us had condemned him to the cross, they who before had conceived an affection for him did not cease to adhere to him; for, on the third day, he appeared to them alive again, the divine prophets having foretold these and many wonderful things concerning him. And the sect of the Christians, so called from him, subsists to this time." (Antiq. I. xviii. cap. iii. sect 3.) Whatever become of the controversy concerning the genuineness of this passage; whether Josephus go the whole length of our history, which, if the passage be sincere, he does; or whether he proceed only a very little way with us, which, if the passage be rejected, we confess to be the case; still what we asserted is true, that he gives no other or different history of the subject from ours, no other or different account of the origin of the institution. And I think also that it may with great reason be contended, either that the passage is genuine, or that the silence of Josephus was designed. For, although we should lay aside the authority of our own books entirely, yet when Tacitus, who wrote not twenty, perhaps not ten, years after Josephus, in his account of a period in which Josephus was nearly thirty years of age, tells us, that a vast multitude of Christians were condemned at Rome; that they derived their denomination from Christ, who, in the reign of Tiberius, was put to death, as a criminal, by the procurator, Pontius Pilate; that the superstition had spread not only over Judea, the source of the evil but it had reached Rome also:--when Suetonius, an historian contemporary with Tacitus, relates that, in the time of Claudius, the Jews were making disturbances at Rome, Christus being their leader: and that, during the reign of Nero, the Christians were punished; under both which emperors Josephus lived: when Pliny, who wrote his celebrated epistle not more than thirty years after the publication of Josephus's history, found the Christians in such numbers in the province of Bithynia as to draw from him a complaint that the contagion had seized cities, towns, and villages, and had so seized them as to produce a general desertion of the public rites; and when, as has already been observed, there is no reason for imagining that the Christians were more numerous in Bithynia than in many other parts of the Roman empire; it cannot, I should suppose, after this, be believed, that the religion, and the transaction upon which it was founded, were too obscure to engage the attention of Josephus, or to obtain a place in his history. Perhaps he did not know how to represent the business, and disposed of his difficulties by passing it over in silence. Eusebius wrote the life of Constantine, yet omits entirely the most remarkable circumstance in that life, the death of his son Crispus; undoubtedly for the reason here given. The reserve of Josephus upon the subject of Christianity appears also in his passing over the banishment of the Jews by Claudius, which Suetonius, we have seen, has recorded with an express reference to Christ. This is at least as remarkable as his silence about the infants of Bethlehem.* Be, however, the fact, or the cause of the omission in Josephus,+ what it may, no other or different history on the subject has been given by him, or is pretended to have been given. _________ * Michaelis has computed, and, as it should seem, fairly enough; that probably not more than twenty children perished by this cruel precaution. Michaelis's Introduction to the New Testament, translated by Marsh; vol. i. c. ii. sect. 11. + There is no notice taken of Christianity in the Mishna, a collection of Jewish traditions compiled about the year 180; although it contains a Tract "De cultu peregrino," of strange or idolatrous worship; yet it cannot be disputed but that Christianity was perfectly well known in the world at this time. There is extremely little notice of the subject in the Jerusalem Talmud, compiled about the year 300, and not much more in the Babylonish Talmud, of the year 500; although both these works are of a religions nature, and although, when the first was compiled, Christianity was on the point of becoming the religion of the state, and, when the latter was published, had been so for 200 years. _________ But further; the whole series of Christian writers, from the first age of the institution down to the present, in their discussions, apologies, arguments, and controversies, proceed upon the general story which our Scriptures contain, and upon no other. The main facts, the principal agents, are alike in all. This argument will appear to be of great force, when it is known that we are able to trace back the series of writers to a contact with the historical books of the New Testament, and to the age of the first emissaries of the religion, and to deduce it, by an unbroken continuation, from that end of the train to the present. The remaining letters of the apostles, (and what more original than their letters can we have?) though written without the remotest design of transmitting the history of Christ, or of Christianity, to future ages, or even of making it known to their contemporaries, incidentally disclose to us the following circumstances:--Christ's descent and family; his innocence; the meekness and gentleness of his character (a recognition which goes to the whole Gospel history); his exalted nature; his circumcision; his transfiguration; his life of opposition and suffering; his patience and resignation; the appointment of the Eucharist, and the manner of it; his agony; his confession before Pontius Pilate; his stripes, crucifixion, and burial; his resurrection; his appearance after it, first to Peter, then to the rest of the apostles; his ascension into heaven; and his designation to be the future judge of mankind; the stated residence of the apostles at Jerusalem; the working of miracles by the first preachers of the Gospel, who were also the hearers of Christ;* the successful propagation of the religion; the persecution of its followers; the miraculous conversion of Paul; miracles wrought by himself, and alleged in his controversies with his adversaries, and in letters to the persons amongst whom they were wrought; finally, that MIRACLES were the signs of an apostle.+ _________ * Heb. ii. 3. "How shall we escape, if we neglect so great salvation, which, at the first, began to be spoken by the Lord, and was confirmed unto us by them that heard him, God also be bearing them witness, both with signs and wonders, and with divers miracles, and gifts of the Holy Ghost?" I allege this epistle without hesitation; for, whatever doubts may have been raised about its author, there can be none concerning the age in which it was written. No epistle in the collection carries about it more indubitable marks of antiquity than this does. It speaks for instance, throughout, of the temple as then standing and of the worship of the temple as then subsisting.--Heb. viii. 4: "For, if he were on earth, he should not be a priest, seeing there are priests that offer according to the law."--Again, Heb. xiii. 10: "We have an altar whereof they have no right to eat which serve the tabernacle." + Truly the signs of as apostle were wraught among you in all patience, in signs, and wonders, and mighty deeds.' 2 Cor. xii. 12. _________ In an epistle bearing the name of Barnabas, the companion of Paul, probably genuine, certainly belonging to that age, we have the sufferings of Christ, his choice of apostles and their number, his passion, the scarlet robe, the vinegar and gall, the mocking and piercing, the casting lots for his coat, (Ep. Bar. c. vii.) his resurrection on the eighth, (i. e. the first day of the week,[Ep. Bar. c. vi.]) and the commemorative distinction of that day, his manifestation after his resurrection, and, lastly, his ascension. We have also his miracles generally but positively referred to in the following words:--"Finally, teaching the people of Israel, and doing many wonders and signs among them, he preached to them, and showed the exceeding great love which he bare towards them." (Ep. Bar. c. v.) In an epistle of Clement, a hearer of St. Paul, although written for a purpose remotely connected with the Christian history, we have the resurrection of Christ, and the subsequent mission of the apostles, recorded in these satisfactory terms: "The apostles have preached to us from our Lord Jesus Christ from God:--For, having received their command, and being thoroughly assured by the resurrection of our Lord Jesus Christ, they went abroad, publishing that the kingdom of God was at hand." (Ep. Clem. Rom. c. xlii.) We find noticed, also, the humility, yet the power of Christ, (Ep. Clem. Rom. c. xvi.) his descent from Abraham--his crucifixion. We have Peter and Paul represented as faithful and righteous pillars of the church; the numerous sufferings of Peter; the bonds, stripes, and stoning of Paul, and more particularly his extensive and unwearied travels. In an epistle of Polycarp, a disciple of St. John, though only a brief hortatory letter, we have the humility, patience, sufferings, resurrection, and ascension of Christ, together with the apostolic character of St. Paul, distinctly recognised. (Pol. Ep. Ad Phil. C. v. viii. ii. iii.) Of this same father we are also assured, by Irenaeus, that he (Irenaeus) had heard him relate, "what he had received from eye-witnesses concerning the Lord, both concerning his miracles and his doctrine." (Ir. ad Flor. 1 ap. Euseb. l. v. c. 20.) In the remaining works of Ignatius, the contemporary of Polycarp, larger than those of Polycarp, (yet, like those of Polycarp, treating of subjects in nowise leading to any recital of the Christian history,) the occasional allusions are proportionably more numerous. The descent of Christ from David, his mother Mary, his miraculous conception, the star at his birth, his baptism by John, the reason assigned for it, his appeal to the prophets, the ointment poured on his head, his sufferings under Pontius Pilate and Herod the tetrarch, his resurrection, the Lord's day called and kept in commemoration of it, and the Eucharist, in both its Parts,--are unequivocally referred to. Upon the resurrection, this writer is even circumstantial. He mentions the apostles' eating and drinking with Christ after he had risen, their feeling and their handling him; from which last circumstance Ignatius raises this just reflection;--"They believed, being convinced both by his flesh and spirit; for this cause, they despised death, and were found to be above it." (Ad Smyr. c. iii.) Quadratus, of the same age with Ignatius, has left us the following noble testimony:--"The works of our Saviour were always conspicuous, for they were real; both those that were healed, and those that were raised from the dead; who were seen not only when they were healed or raised, but for a long time afterwards; not only whilst he dwelled on this earth, but also after his departure, and for a good while after it, insomuch that some of them have reached to our times." (Ap. Euseb. H. E. l. iv. c. 3.) Justin Martyr came little more than thirty years after Quadratus. From Justin's works, which are still extant, might be collected a tolerably complete account of Christ's life, in all points agreeing with that which is delivered in our Scriptures; taken indeed, in a great measure, from those Scriptures, but still proving that this account, and no other, was the account known and extant in that age. The miracles in particular, which form the part of Christ's history most material to be traced, stand fully and distinctly recognised in the following passage:--"He healed those who had been blind, and deaf, and lame from their birth; causing, by his word, one to leap, another to hear, and a third to see: and, by raising the dead, and making them to live, he induced, by his works, the men of that age to know him." (Just. Dial. cum Tryph. p. 288, ed. Thirl.) It is unnecessary to carry these citations lower, because the history, after this time, occurs in ancient Christian writings as familiarly as it is wont to do in modern sermons;--occurs always the same in substance, and always that which our evangelists represent. This is not only true of those writings of Christians which are genuine, and of acknowledged authority; but it is, in a great measure, true of all their ancient writings which remain; although some of these may have been erroneously ascribed to authors to whom they did not belong, or may contain false accounts, or may appear to be undeserving of credit, or never indeed to have obtained any. Whatever fables they have mixed with the narrative, they preserve the material parts, the leading facts, as we have them; and, so far as they do this, although they be evidence of nothing else, they are evidence that these points were fixed, were received and acknowledged by all Christians in the ages in which the books were written. At least, it may be asserted, that, in the places where we were most likely to meet with such things, if such things had existed, no reliques appear of any story substantially different from the present, as the cause, or as the pretence, of the institution. Now that the original story, the story delivered by the first preachers of the institution, should have died away so entirely as to have left no record or memorial of its existence, although so many records and memorials of the time and transaction remain; and that another story should have stepped into its place, and gained exclusive possession of the belief of all who professed, themselves disciples of the institution, is beyond any example of the corruption of even oral tradition, and still less consistent with the experience of written history: and this improbability, which is very great, is rendered still greater by the reflection, that no such change as the oblivion of one story, and the substitution of another, took place in any future period of the Christian aera. Christianity hath travelled through dark and turbulent ages; nevertheless it came out of the cloud and the storm, such, in substance, as it entered in. Many additions were made to the primitive history, and these entitled to different degrees of credit; many doctrinal errors also were from time to time grafted into the public creed; but still the original story remained, and remained the same. In all its principal parts, it has been fixed from the beginning. Thirdly: The religious rites and usages that prevailed amongst the early disciples of Christianity were such as belonged to, and sprung out of, the narrative now in our hands; which accordancy shows, that it was the narrative upon which these persons acted, and which they had received from their teachers. Our account makes the Founder of the religion direct that his disciples should be baptized: we know that the first Christians were baptized, Our account makes him direct that they should hold religious assemblies: we find that they did hold religious assemblies. Our accounts make the apostles assemble upon a stated day of the week: we find, and that from information perfectly independent of our accounts, that the Christians of the first century did observe stated days of assembling. Our histories record the institution of the rite which we call the Lord's Supper, and a command to repeat it in perpetual succession: we find, amongst the early Christians, the celebration of this rite universal. And, indeed, we find concurring in all the above-mentioned observances, Christian societies of many different nations and languages, removed from one another by a great distance of place and dissimilitude of situation. It is also extremely material to remark, that there is no room for insinuating that our books were fabricated with a studious accommodation to the usages which obtained at the time they were written; that the authors of the books found the usages established, and framed the story to account for their original. The Scripture accounts, especially of the Lord's Supper, are too short and cursory, not to say too obscure, and in this view, deficient, to allow a place for any such suspicion.* _________ * The reader who is conversant in these researches, by comparing the short Scripture accounts of the Christian rites above-mentioned with the minute and circumstantial directions contained in the pretended apostolical constitutions, will see the force of this observation; the difference between truth and forgery. _________ Amongst the proofs of the truth of our proposition, viz. That the story which we have now is, in substance, the story which the Christians had then, or, in other words, that the accounts in our Gospels are, as to their principal parts, at least, the accounts which the apostles and original teachers of the religion delivered, one arises from observing, that it appears by the Gospels themselves that the story was public at the time; that the Christian community was already in possession of the substance and principal parts of the narrative. The Gospels were not the original cause of the Christian history being believed, but were themselves among the consequences of that belief. This is expressly affirmed by Saint Luke, in his brief, but, as I think, very important and instructive preface:--"Forasmuch (says the evangelist) as many have taken in hand to set forth in order a declaration of those things which are most surely believed amongst us, even as they delivered them unto us, which, from the beginning, were eye-witnesses and ministers of the word; it seemed good to me also, having had perfect understanding of all things from the very first, to write unto thee in order, most excellent Theophilus, that thou mightest know the certainty of those things wherein thou hast been instructed."--This short introduction testifies, that the substance of the history which the evangelist was about to write was already believed by Christians; that it was believed upon the declarations of eye-witnesses and ministers of the word; that it formed the account of their religion in which Christians were instructed; that the office which the historian proposed to himself was to trace each particular to its origin, and to fix the certainty of many things which the reader had before heard of. In Saint John's Gospel the same point appears hence, that there are some principal facts to which the historian refers, but which he does not relate. A remarkable instance of this kind is the ascension, which is not mentioned by St. John in its place, at the conclusion of his history, but which is plainly referred to in the following words of the sixth chapter; "What and if ye shall see the Son of man ascend up where he was before?" (Also John iii. 31; and xvi. 28.) And still more positively in the words which Christ, according to our evangelist, spoke to Mary after his resurrection, "Touch me not, for I am not yet ascended to my Father: but go unto my brethren, and say unto them, I ascend unto my Father and your Father, unto my God and your God." (John xx. 17.) This can only be accounted for by the supposition that St. John wrote under a sense of the notoriety of Christ's ascension, among those by whom his book was likely to be read. The same account must also be given of Saint Matthew's omission of the same important fact. The thing was very well known, and it did not occur to the historian that it was necessary to add any particulars concerning it. It agrees also with this solution, and with no other, that neither Matthew nor John disposes of the person of our Lord in any manner whatever. Other intimations in St. John's Gospel of the then general notoriety of the story are the following: His manner of introducing his narrative (ch. i. ver. 15.)--"John bare witness of him, and cried, saying" evidently presupposes that his readers knew who John was. His rapid parenthetical reference to John's imprisonment, "for John was not yet cast into prison," (John iii, 24.) could only come from a writer whose mind was in the habit of considering John's imprisonment as perfectly notorious. The description of Andrew by the addition "Simon Peter's brother," (John i. 40.) takes it for granted, that Simon Peter was well known. His name had not been mentioned before. The evangelist's noticing the prevailing misconstruction of a discourse, (John xxi. 24.) which Christ held with the beloved disciple, proves that the characters and the discourse were already public. And the observation which these instances afford is of equal validity for the purpose of the present argument, whoever were the authors of the histories. These four circumstances:--first, the recognition of the account in its principal parts by a series of succeeding writers; secondly, the total absence of any account of the origin of the religion substantially different from ours; thirdly, the early and extensive prevalence of rites and institutions, which resulted from our account; fourthly, our account bearing in its construction proof that it is an account of facts which were known and believed at the time, are sufficient, I conceive, to support an assurance, that the story which we have now is, in general, the story which Christians had at the beginning. I say in general; by which term I mean, that it is the same in its texture, and in its principal facts. For instance, I make no doubt, for the reasons above stated, but that the resurrection of the Founder of the religion was always a part of the Christian story. Nor can a doubt of this remain upon the mind of any one who reflects that the resurrection is, in some form or other, asserted, referred to, or assumed, in every Christian writing, of every description which hath come down to us. And if our evidence stopped here, we should have a strong case to offer: for we should have to allege, that in the reign of Tiberius Caesar, a certain number of persons set about an attempt of establishing a new religion in the world: in the prosecution of which purpose, they voluntarily encountered great dangers, undertook great labours, sustained great sufferings, all for a miraculous story, which they published wherever they came; and that the resurrection of a dead man, whom during his life they had followed and accompanied, was a constant part of this story. I know nothing in the above statement which can, with any appearance of reason, be disputed; and I know nothing, in the history of the human species, similar to it. CHAPTER VIII. There is satisfactory evidence that many, professing to be original witnesses of the Christian miracles, passed their lives in labours, dangers, and sufferings, voluntarily undergone in attestation of the accounts which they delivered, and solely in consequence of their belief of those accounts; and that they also submitted, from the same motives, to new rules of conduct. That the story which we have now is, in the main, the story which the apostles published, is, I think, nearly certain, from the considerations which have been proposed. But whether, when we come to the particulars, and the detail of the narrative, the historical books of the New Testament be deserving of credit as histories, so that a fact ought to be accounted true, because it is found in them; or whether they are entitled to be considered as representing the accounts which, true or false, the apostles published; whether their authority, in either of these views, can be trusted to, is a point which necessarily depends upon what we know of the books, and of their authors. Now, in treating of this part of our argument, the first and most material observation upon the subject is, that such was the situation of the authors to whom the four Gospels are ascribed, that, if any one of the four be genuine, it is sufficient for our purpose. The received author of the first was an original apostle and emissary of the religion. The received author of the second was an inhabitant of Jerusalem, at the time, to whose house the apostles were wont to resort, and himself an attendant upon one of the most eminent of that number. The received author of the third was a stated companion and fellow-traveller of the most active of all the teachers of the religion, and, in the course of his travels, frequently in the society of the original apostles. The received author of the fourth, as well as of the first, was one of these apostles. No stronger evidence of the truth of a history can arise from the situation of the historian than what is here offered. The authors of all the histories lived at the time and upon the spot. The authors of two of the histories were present at many of the scenes which they describe; eye-witnesses of the facts, ear-witnesses of the discourses; writing from personal knowledge and recollection; and, what strengthens their testimony, writing upon a subject in which their minds were deeply engaged, and in which, as they must have been very frequently repeating the accounts to others, the passages of the history would be kept continually alive in their memory. Whoever reads the Gospels (and they ought to be read for this particular purpose) will find in them not merely a general affirmation of miraculous powers, but detailed circumstantial accounts of miracles, with specifications of time, place, and persons; and these accounts many and various. In the Gospels, therefore, which bear the names of Matthew and John, these narratives, if they really proceeded from these men, must either be true as far as the fidelity of human recollection is usually to be depended upon, that is, must be true in substance and in their principal parts, (which is sufficient for the purpose of proving a supernatural agency,) or they must be wilful and mediated falsehoods. Yet the writers who fabricated and uttered these falsehoods, if they be such, are of the number of those who, unless the whole contexture of the Christian story be a dream, sacrificed their ease and safety in the cause, and for a purpose the most inconsistent that is possible with dishonest intentions. They were villains for no end but to teach honesty, and martyrs without the least prospect of honour or advantage. The Gospels which bear the names of Mark and Luke, although not the narratives of eye-witnesses, are, if genuine, removed from that only by one degree. They are the narratives of contemporary writers, or writers themselves mixing with the business; one of the two probably living in the place which was the principal scene of action; both living in habits of society and correspondence with those who had been present at the transactions which they relate. The latter of them accordingly tells us (and with apparent sincerity, because he tells it without pretending to personal knowledge, and without claiming for his work greater authority than belonged to it) that the things which were believed amount Christians came from those who from the beginning were eye-witnesses and ministers of the word; that he had traced accounts up to their source; and that he was prepared to instruct his reader in the certainty of the things which he related.* Very few histories lie so close to their facts; very few historians are so nearly connected with the subject of their narrative, or possess such means of authentic information, as these. _________ * Why should not the candid and modest preface of this historian be believed, as well as that which Dion Cassius prefixes to his Life of Commodus? "These things and the following I write, not from the report of others, but from my own knowledge and observation." I see no reason to doubt but that both passages describe truly enough the situation of the authors. _________ The situation of the writers applies to the truth of the facts which they record. But at present we use their testimony to a point somewhat short of this, namely, that the facts recorded in the Gospels, whether true or false, are the facts, and the sort of facts which the original preachers of the religion allege. Strictly speaking, I am concerned only to show, that what the Gospels contain is the same as what the apostles preached. Now, how stands the proof of this point? A set of men went about the world, publishing a story composed of miraculous accounts, (for miraculous from the very nature and exigency of the case they must have been,) and upon the strength of these accounts called upon mankind to quit the religions in which they had been educated, and to take up, thenceforth, a new system of opinions, and new rules of action. What is more in attestation of these accounts, that is, in support of an institution of which these accounts were the foundation, is, that the same men voluntarily exposed themselves to harassing and perpetual labours, dangers, and sufferings. We want to know what these accounts were. We have the particulars, i. e. many particulars, from two of their own number. We have them from an attendant of one of the number, and who, there is reason to believe, was an inhabitant of Jerusalem at the time. We have them from a fourth writer, who accompanied the most laborious missionary of the institution in his travels; who, in the course of these travels, was frequently brought into the society of the rest; and who, let it be observed, begins his narrative by telling us that he is about to relate the things which had been delivered by those who were ministers of the word, and eye-witnesses of the facts. I do not know what information can be more satisfactory than this. We may, perhaps, perceive the force and value of it more sensibly if we reflect how requiring we should have been if we had wanted it. Supposing it to be sufficiently proved, that the religion now professed among us owed its original to the preaching and ministry of a number of men, who, about eighteen centuries ago, set forth in the world a new system of religious opinions, founded upon certain extraordinary things which they related of a wonderful person who had appeared in Judea; suppose it to be also sufficiently proved, that, in the course and prosecution of their ministry, these men had subjected themselves to extreme hardships, fatigue, and peril; but suppose the accounts which they published had not been committed to writing till some ages after their times, or at least that no histories but what had been composed some ages afterwards had reached our hands; we should have said, and with reason, that we were willing to believe these under the circumstances in which they delivered their testimony, but that we did not, at this day, know with sufficient evidence what their testimony was. Had we received the particulars of it from any of their own number, from any of those who lived and conversed with them, from any of their hearers, or even from any of their contemporaries, we should have had something to rely upon. Now, if our books be genuine, we have all these. We have the very species of information which, as it appears to me, our imagination would have carved out for us, if it had been wanting. But I have said that if any one of the four Gospels be genuine, we have not only direct historical testimony to the point we contend for, but testimony which, so far as that point is concerned, cannot reasonably be rejected. If the first Gospel was really written by Matthew, we have the narrative of one of the number, from which to judge what were the miracles, and the kind of miracles, which the apostles attributed to Jesus. Although, for argument's sake, and only for argument's sake, we should allow that this Gospel had been erroneously ascribed to Matthew; yet, if the Gospel of St. John be genuine, the observation holds with no less strength. Again, although the Gospels both of Matthew and John could be supposed to be spurious, yet, if the Gospel of Saint Luke were truly the composition of that person, or of any person, be his name what it might, who was actually in the situation in which the author of that Gospel professes himself to have been, or if the Gospel which bear the name of Mark really proceeded from him; we still, even upon the lowest supposition, possess the accounts of one writer at least, who was not only contemporary with the apostles, but associated with them in their ministry; which authority seems sufficient, when the question is simply what it was which these apostles advanced. I think it material to have this well noticed. The New Testament contains a great number of distinct writings, the genuineness of any one of which is almost sufficient to prove the truth of the religion: it contains, however, four distinct histories, the genuineness of any one of which is perfectly sufficient. If, therefore, we must be considered as encountering the risk of error in assigning the authors of our books, we are entitled to the advantage of so many separate probabilities. And although it should appear that some of the evangelists had seen and used each other's works, this discovery, whist it subtracts indeed from their characters as testimonies strictly independent, diminishes, I conceive, little either their separate authority, (by which I mean the authority of any one that is genuine,) or their mutual confirmation. For, let the most disadvantageous supposition possible be made concerning them; let it be allowed, what I should have no great difficulty in admitting, that Mark compiled his history almost entirely from those of Matthew and Luke; and let it also for a moment be supposed that were not, in fact, written by Matthew and Luke; yet, if it be true that Mark, a contemporary of the apostles, living, in habits of society with the apostles, a fellow-traveller and fellow-labourer with some of them; if, I say, it be true, that this person made the compilation, it follows, that the writings from which he made it existed in the time of the apostles, and not only so, but that they were then in such esteem and credit, that a companion of the apostles formed a history out of them. Let the Gospel of Mark be called an epitome of that of Matthew; if a person in the situation in which Mark is described to have been actually made the epitome, it affords the strongest possible attestation to the character of the original. Again, parallelisms in sentences, in word, and in the order of words, have been traced out between the Gospel of Matthew and that of Luke; which concurrence cannot easily be explained, otherwise than by supposing, either that Luke had consulted Matthew's history, or, what appears to me in nowise incredible, that minutes of some of Christ's discourses, as well as brief memoirs of some passages of his life, had been committed to writing at the time; and that such written accounts had by both authors been occasionally admitted into their histories. Either supposition is perfectly consistent with the acknowledged formation of St. Luke's narrative, who professes not to write as an eye-witness, but to have investigated the original of every account which he delivers: in other words, to have collected them from such documents and testimonies as he, who had the best opportunities of making inquiries, judged to be authentic. Therefore, allowing that this writer also, in some instances, borrowed from the Gospel which we call Matthew's and once more allowing for the sake of stating the argument, that that Gospel was not the production of the author to whom we ascribe it; yet still we have in St. Luke's Gospel a history given by a writer immediately connected with the transaction with the witnesses of it with the persons engaged in it, and composed from materials which that person, thus situated, deemed to be safe source of intelligence; in other words, whatever supposition be made concerning any or all the other Gospels, if Saint Luke's Gospel be genuine, we have in it a credible evidence of the point which we maintain. The Gospel according to Saint John appears to be, and is on all hands allowed to be, an independent testimony, strictly and properly so called. Notwithstanding therefore, any connexion or supposed connexion, between one of the Gospels, I again repeat what I before said, that if any one of the four be genuine, we have, in that one, strong reason, from the character and situation of the writer, to believe that we possess the accounts which the original emissaries of the religion delivered. Secondly: In treating of the written evidences of Christianity, next to their separate, we are to consider their aggregate authority. Now, there is in the evangelic history a cumulation of testimony which belongs hardly to any other history, but which our habitual mode of reading the Scriptures sometimes causes us to overlook. When a passage, in any wise relating to the history of Christ is read to us out of the epistle of Clemens Romanus, the epistles of Ignatius, of Polycap, or from any other writing of that age, we are immediately sensible of the confirmation which it affords to the Scripture account. Here is a new witness. Now, if we had been accustomed to read the Gospel of Matthew alone, and had known that of Luke only as the generality of Christians know the writings of the apostolical fathers, that is, had known that such a writing was extant and acknowledged; when we came, for the first time, to look into what it contained, and found many of the facts which Matthew recorded, recorded also there, many other facts of a similar nature added, and throughout the whole work the same general series of transactions stated, and the same general character of the person who was the subject of the history preserved, I apprehend that we should feel our minds strongly impressed by this discovery of fresh evidence. We should feel a renewal of the same sentiment in first reading the Gospel of Saint John. That of Saint Mark perhaps would strike us as an abridgment of the history with which we were already acquainted; but we should naturally reflect, that if that history was abridged by such a person as Mark, or by any person of so early an age, it afforded one of the highest possible attestations to the value of the work. This successive disclosure of proof would leave us assured, that there must have been at least some reality in a story which not one, but many, had taken in hand to commit to writing. The very existence of four separate histories would satisfy us that the subject had a foundation; and when, amidst the variety which the different information of the different writers had supplied to their accounts, or which their different choice and judgment in selecting their materials had produced, we observed many facts to stand the same in all; of these facts, at least, we should conclude, that they were fixed in their credit and publicity. If, after this, we should come to the knowledge of a distinct history, and that also of the same age with the rest, taking up the subject where the others had left it, and carrying on a narrative of the effects produced in the world by the extraordinary causes of which we had already been informed, and which effects subsist at this day, we should think the reality of the original story in no little degree established by this supplement. If subsequent inquiries should bring to our knowledge, one after another, letters written by some of the principal agents in the business, upon the business, and during the time of their activity and concern in it, assuming all along and recognising the original story, agitating the questions that arose out of it, pressing the obligations which resulted from it, giving advice and directions to these who acted upon it; I conceive that we should find, in every one of these, a still further support to the conclusion we had formed. At present, the weight of this successive confirmation is, in a great measure; unperceived by us. The evidence does not appear to us what it is; for, being from our infancy accustomed to regard the New Testament as one book, we see in it only one testimony. The whole occurs to us as a single evidence; and its different parts not as distinct attestations, but as different portions only of the same. Yet in this conception of the subject we are certainly mistaken; for the very discrepancies among the several documents which form our volume prove, if all other proof were wanting, that in their original composition they were separate, and most of them independent productions. If we dispose our ideas in a different order, the matter stands thus:--Whilst the transaction was recent, and the original witnesses were at hand to relate it; and whilst the apostles were busied in preaching and travelling, in collecting disciples, in forming and regulating societies of converts, in supporting themselves against opposition; whilst they exercised their ministry under the harassings of frequent persecutions, and in a state of almost continual alarm, it is not probable that, in this engaged, anxious, and unsettled condition of life, they would think immediately of writing histories for the information of the public or of posterity.* But it is very probable, that emergencies might draw from some of them occasional letters upon the subject of their mission, to converts, or to societies of converts, with which they were connected; or that they might address written discourses and exhortations to the disciples of the institution at large, which would be received and read with a respect proportioned to the character of the writer. Accounts in the mean time would get abroad of the extraordinary things that had been passing, written with different degrees of information and correctness. The extension of the Christian society, which could no longer be instructed: by a personal intercourse with the apostles, and the possible circulation of imperfect or erroneous narratives, would soon teach some amongst them the expediency of sending forth authentic memoirs of the life and doctrine of their Master. When accounts appeared authorised by the name, and credit, and situation of the writers, recommended or recognised by the apostles and first preachers of the religion, or found to coincide with what the apostles and first preachers of the religion had taught, other accounts would fall into disuse and neglect; whilst these, maintaining their reputation (as, if genuine and well founded, they would do) under the test of time, inquiry, and contradiction, might be expected to make their way into the hands of Christians of all countries of the world. ________ * This thought occurred to Eusebius: "Nor were the apostles of Christ greatly concerned about the writing of books, being engaged in a more excellent ministry which is above all human power." Eccles. Hist. 1. iii. c. 24.--The same consideration accounts also for the paucity of Christian writings in the first century of its aera. _________ This seems the natural progress of the business; and with this the records in our possession, and the evidence concerning them correspond. We have remaining, in the first place, many letters of the kind above described, which have been preserved with a care and fidelity answering to the respect with which we may suppose that such letters would be received. But as these letters were not written to prove the truth of the Christian religion, in the sense in which we regard that question; nor to convey information of facts, of which those to whom the letters were written had been previously informed; we are not to look in them for anything more than incidental allusions to the Christian history. We are able, however, to gather from these documents various particular attestations which have been already enumerated; and this is a species of written evidence, as far as it goes, in the highest degree satisfactory, and in point of time perhaps the first. But for our more circumstantial information, we have, in the next place, five direct histories, bearing the names of persons acquainted, by their situation, with the truth of what they relate, and three of them purporting, in the very body of the narrative, to be written by such persons; of which books we know, that some were in the hands of those who were contemporaries of the apostles, and that, in the age immediately posterior to that, they were in the hands, we may say, of every one, and received by Christians with so much respect and deference, as to be constantly quoted and referred to by them, without any doubt of the truth of their accounts. They were treated as such histories, proceeding from such authorities, might expect to be treated. In the preface to one of our histories, we have intimations left us of the existence of some ancient accounts which are now lost. There is nothing in this circumstance that can surprise us. It was to be expected, from the magnitude and novelty of the occasion, that such accounts would swarm. When better accounts came forth, these died away. Our present histories superseded others. They soon acquired a character and established a reputation which does not appear to have belonged to any other: that, at least, can be proved concerning them which cannot be proved concerning any other. But to return to the point which led to these reflections. By considering our records in either of the two views in which we have represented them, we shall perceive that we possess a connection of proofs, and not a naked or solitary testimony; and that the written evidence is of such a kind, and comes to us in such a state, as the natural order and progress of things, in the infancy of the institution, might be expected to produce. Thirdly: The genuineness of the historical books of the New Testament is undoubtedly a point of importance, because the strength of their evidence is augmented by our knowledge of the situation of their authors, their relation to the subject, and the part which they sustained in the transaction; and the testimonies which we are able to produce compose a firm ground of persuasion, that the Gospels were written by the persons whose names they bear. Nevertheless, I must be allowed to state, that to the argument which I am endeavouring to maintain, this point is not essential; I mean, so essential as that the fate of the argument depends upon it. The question before us is, whether the Gospels exhibit the story which the apostles and first emissaries of the religion published, and for which they acted and suffered in the manner in which, for some miraculous story or other, they did act and suffer. Now let us suppose that we possess no other information concerning these books than that they were written by early disciples of Christianity; that they were known and read during the time, or near the time, of the original apostles of the religion; that by Christians whom the apostles instructed, by societies of Christians which the apostles founded, these books were received, (by which term "received" I mean that they were believed to contain authentic accounts of the transactions upon which the religion rested, and accounts which were accordingly used, repeated, and relied upon,) this reception would be a valid proof that these books, whoever were the authors of them, must have accorded with what the apostles taught. A reception by the first race of Christians, is evidence that they agreed with what the first teachers of the religion delivered. In particular, if they had not agreed with what the apostles themselves preached, how could they have gained credit in churches and societies which the apostles established? Now the fact of their early existence, and not only of their existence, but their reputation, is made out by some ancient testimonies which do not happen to specify the names of the writers: add to which, what hath been already hinted, that two out of the four Gospels contain averments in the body of the history, which, though they do not disclose the names, fix the time and situation of the authors, viz., that one was written by an eye-witness of the sufferings of Christ, the other by a contemporary of the apostles. In the Gospel of St. John (xix. 35), describing the crucifixion, with the particular circumstance of piercing Christ's side with a spear, the historian adds, as for himself, "and he that saw it bare record, and his record is true, and he knoweth that he saith true, that ye might believe." Again (xxi. 24), after relating a conversation which passed between Peter and "the disciple," as it is there expressed, "whom Jesus loved," it is added, "this is the disciple which testifieth of these things, and wrote these things." This testimony, let it be remarked, is not the less worthy of regard, because it is, in one view, imperfect. The name is not mentioned; which, if a fraudulent purpose had been intended, would have been done. The third of our present Gospels purports to have been written by the person who wrote the Acts of the Apostles; in which latter history, or rather latter part of the same history, the author, by using in various places the first person plural, declares himself to have been a contemporary of all, and a companion of one, of the original preachers of the religion. CHAPTER IX. There is satisfactory evidence that many, professing to be original witnesses of the Christian miracles, passed their lives in labours, dangers, and sufferings, voluntarily undergone in attestation of the accounts which they delivered, and solely in consequence of their belief of those accounts; and that they also submitted, from the same motives, to new rules of conduct. OF THE AUTHENTICITY OF THE SCRIPTURES. Not forgetting, therefore, what credit is due to the evangelical history, supposing even any one of the four Gospels to be genuine; what credit is due to the Gospels, even supposing nothing to be known concerning them but that they were written by early disciples of the religion, and received with deference by early Christian churches; more especially not forgetting what credit is due to the New Testament in its capacity of cumulative evidence; we now proceed to state the proper and distinct proofs, which show not only the general value of these records, but their specific authority, and the high probability there is that they actually came from the persons whose names they bear. There are, however, a few preliminary reflections, by which we may draw up with more regularity to the propositions upon which the close and particular discussion of the subject depends. Of which nature are the following: I. We are able to produce a great number of ancient manuscripts, found in many different countries, and in countries widely distant from each other, all of them anterior to the art of printing, some Certainly seven or eight hundred years old, and some which have been preserved probably above a thousand years.* We have also many ancient versions of these books, and some of them into languages which are not at present, nor for many ages have been, spoken in any part of the world. The existence of these manuscripts and versions proves that the Scriptures were not the production of any modern contrivance. It does away also the uncertainty which hangs over such publications as the works, real or pretended, of Ossian and Rowley, in which the editors are challenged to produce their manuscripts and to show where they obtained their copies. The number of manuscripts, far exceeding those of any other book, and their wide dispersion, afford an argument, in some measure to the senses, that the Scriptures anciently, in like manner as at this day, were more read and sought after than any other books, and that also in many different countries. The greatest part of spurious Christian writings are utterly lost, the rest preserved by some single manuscript. There is weight also in Dr. Bentley's observation, that the New Testament has suffered less injury by the errors of transcribers than the works of any profane author of the same size and antiquity; that is, there never was any writing, in the preservation and purity of which the world was so interested or so careful. _________ * The Alexandrian manuscript, now in the British Museum, was written probably in the fourth or fifth century. _________ II. An argument of great weight with those who are judges of the proofs upon which it is founded, and capable, through their testimony, of being addressed to every understanding, is that which arises from the style and language of the New Testament. It is just such a language as might be expected from the apostles, from persons of their age and in their situation, and from no other persons. It is the style neither of classic authors, nor of the ancient Christian fathers, but Greek coming from men of Hebrew origin; abounding, that is, with Hebraic and Syriac idioms, such as would naturally be found in the writings of men who used a language spoken indeed where they lived, but not the common dialect of the country. This happy peculiarity is a strong proof of the genuineness of these writings: for who should forge them? The Christian fathers were for the most part totally ignorant of Hebrew, and therefore were not likely to insert Hebraisms and Syriasms into their writings. The few who had a knowledge of the Hebrew, as Justin Martyr, Origen, and Epiphanius, wrote in a language which hears no resemblance to that of the New Testament. The Nazarenes, who understood Hebrew, used chiefly, perhaps almost entirely, the Gospel of Saint Matthew, and therefore cannot be suspected of forging the rest of the sacred writings. The argument, at any rate, proves the antiquity of these books; that they belonged to the age of the apostles; that they could be composed, indeed, in no other.* _________ * See this argument stated more at large in Michaelis's Introduction, (Marsh's translation,) vol. i. c. ii. sect. 10, from which these observations are taken. _________ III. Why should we question the genuineness of these books? Is it for that they contain accounts of supernatural events? I apprehend that this, at the bottom, is the real, though secret, cause of our hesitation about them: for had the writings inscribed with the names of Matthew and John related nothing but ordinary history, there would have been no more doubt whether these writings were theirs than there is concerning the acknowledged works of Josephus or Philo; that is, there would have been no doubt at all. Now it ought to be considered that this reason, however it may apply to the credit which is given to a writer's judgment or veracity, affects the question of genuineness very indirectly. The works of Bede exhibit many wonderful relations: but who, for that reason, doubts that they were written by Bede? The same of a multitude of other authors. To which may be added that we ask no more for our books than what we allow to other books in some sort similar to ours: we do not deny the genuineness of the Koran; we admit that the history of Apollonius Tyanaeus, purporting to be written by Philostratus, was really written by Philostratus. IV. If it had been an easy thing in the early times of the institution to have forged Christian writings, and to have obtained currency and reception to the forgeries, we should have had many appearing in the name of Christ himself. No writings would have been received with so much avidity and respect as these: consequently none afforded so great a temptation to forgery. Yet have we heard but of one attempt of this sort, deserving of the smallest notice, that in a piece of a very few lines, and so far from succeeding, I mean, from obtaining acceptance and reputation, or an acceptance an reputation in anywise similar to that which can be proved to have attended the books of the New Testament, that it is not so much as mentioned by any writer of the first three centuries. The learned reader need not be informed that I mean the epistle of Christ to Abgarus, king of Edessa, found at present in the work of Eusebius,* as a piece acknowledged by him, though not without considerable doubt whether the whole passage be not an interpolation, as it is most certain, that, after the publication of Eusebius's work, this epistle was universally rejected.+ _________ * Hist. Eccl. lib. i. c. 15. + Augustin, A.D. 895 (De Consens. Evan. c. 34), had heard that the Pagans pretended to be possessed of an epistle of Christ to Peter and Paul; but he had never seen it, and appears to doubt of the existence of any such piece either genuine or spurious. No other ancient writer mentions it. He also, and he alone, notices, and that in order to condemn it, an epistle ascribed to Christ by the Manichees, A.D. 270, and a short hymn attributed to him by the Priscillianists, A.D. 378 (cont. Faust. Man. Lib xxviii, c,4). The lateness of the writer who notices these things, the manner in which he notices them, and above all, the silence of every preceding writer, render them unworthy on of consideration. _________ V. If the ascription of the Gospels to their respective authors had been arbitrary or conjectural, they would have been ascribed to more eminent men. This observation holds concerning the first three Gospels, the reputed authors of which were enabled, by their situation, to obtain true intelligence, and were likely to deliver an honest account of what they knew, but were persons not distinguished in the history by extraordinary marks of notice or commendation. Of the apostles, I hardly know any one of whom less is said than of Matthew, or of whom the little that is said is less calculated to magnify his character. Of Mark, nothing is said in the Gospels; and what is said of any person of that name in the Acts, and in the epistles, in no part bestows praise or eminence upon him. The name of Luke is mentioned only in St Paul's epistles,* and that very transiently. The judgment, therefore, which assigned these writings to these authors proceeded, it may be presumed, upon proper knowledge and evidence, and not upon a voluntary choice of names. VI. Christian writers and Christian churches appear to have soon arrived at a very general agreement upon the subject, and that without the interposition of any public authority. When the diversity of opinion which prevailed, and prevails among Christians in other points, is considered, their concurrence in the canon of Scripture is remarkable, and of great weight, especially as it seems to have been the result of private and free inquiry. We have no knowledge of any interference of authority in the question before the council of Laodicea in the year 363. Probably the decree of this council rather declared than regulated the public judgment, or, more properly speaking, the judgment of some neighbouring churches; the council itself consisting of no more than thirty or forty bishops of Lydia and the adjoining countries.+ Nor does its authority seem to have extended further; for we find numerous Christian writers, after this time, discussing the question, "What books were entitled to be received as Scripture," with great freedom, upon proper grounds of evidence, and without any reference to the decision at Laodicea. _________ * Col. iv. 14. 2Tim. iv. 11. Philem. 24. + Lardner, Cred. vol. viii. P.291, et seq. _________ These considerations are not to be neglected: but of an argument concerning the genuineness of ancient writings, the substance, undoubtedly, and strength, is ancient testimony. This testimony it is necessary to exhibit somewhat in detail; for when Christian advocates merely tell us that we have the same reason for believing the Gospels to be written by the evangelists whose names they bear as we have for believing the Commentaries to be Caesar's, the Aeneid Virgil's, or the Orations Cicero's, they content themselves with an imperfect representation. They state nothing more than what is true, but they do not state the truth correctly. In the number, variety, and early date of our testimonies, we far exceed all other ancient books. For one which the most celebrated work of the most celebrated Greek or Roman writer can allege, we produce many. But then it is more requisite in our books than in theirs to separate and distinguish them from spurious competitors. The result, I am convinced, will be satisfactory to every fair inquirer: but this circumstance renders an inquiry necessary. In a work, however, like the present, there is a difficulty in finding a place for evidence of this kind. To pursue the details of proof throughout, would be to transcribe a great part of Dr. Lardner's eleven octavo volumes: to leave the argument without proofs is to leave it without effect; for the persuasion produced by this species of evidence depends upon a view and induction of the particulars which compose it. The method which I propose to myself is, first, to place before the reader, in one view, the propositions which comprise the several heads of our testimony, and afterwards to repeat the same propositions in so many distinct sections, with the necessary authorities subjoined to each.* _________ * The reader, when he has the propositions before him, will observe that the argument, if he should omit the sections, proceeds connectedly from this point. _________ The following, then, are the allegations upon the subject which are capable of being established by proof:-- I. That the historical books of the New Testament, meaning thereby the four Gospels and the Acts of the Apostles, are quoted, or alluded to, by a series of Christian writers, beginning with those who were contemporary with the apostles, or who immediately followed them, and proceeding in close and regular succession from their time to the present. II. That when they are quoted, or alluded to, they are quoted or alluded to with peculiar respect, as books 'sui generis'; as possessing an authority which belonged to no other books, and as conclusive in all questions and controversies amongst Christians. III. That they were, in very early times, collected into a distinct volume. IV. That they were distinguished by appropriate names and titles of respect. V. That they were publicly read and expounded in the religious assemblies of the early Christians. VI. That commentaries were written upon them, harmonies formed out of them, different copies carefully collated, and versions of them made into different languages. VII. That they were received by Christians of different sects, by many heretics as well as Catholics, and usually appealed to by both sides in the controversies which arose in those days. VIII. That the four Gospels, the Acts of the Apostles, thirteen Epistles of Saint Paul, the first epistle of John, and the first of-Peter, were received without doubt by those who doubted concerning the other books which are included in our present canon. IX. That the Gospels were attacked by the early adversaries of Christianity, as books containing the accounts upon which the religion was founded. X. That formal catalogues of authentic Scriptures were published; in all which our present sacred histories were included. XI. That these propositions cannot be affirmed of any other books claiming to be books of Scripture; by which are meant those books which are commonly called apocryphal books of the New Testament. SECTION I. The historical books of the New Testament, meaning thereby the four Gospels and the Acts of the Apostles, are quoted, or alluded to, by a series of Christian writers, beginning with those who were contemporary with the apostles, or who immediately followed them, and proceeding in close and regular succession from their time to the present. The medium of proof stated in this proposition is, of all others, the most unquestionable, the least liable to any practices of fraud, and is not diminished by the lapse of ages. Bishop Burnet, in the History of his Own Times, inserts various extracts from Lord Clarendon's History. One such insertion is a proof that Lord Clarendon's History was extant at the time when Bishop Burnet wrote, that it had been read by Bishop Burnet, that it was received by Bishop Burnet as a work of Lord Clarendon, and also regarded by him as an authentic account of the transactions which it relates; and it will be a proof of these points a thousand years hence, or as long as the books exist. Quintilian having quoted as Cicero's, (Quint, lib. xl. c. l.) that well known trait of dissembled vanity:--"Si quid est in me ingenii, Judices, quod sentio quam sit exiguum;"--the quotation would be strong evidence, were there any doubt, that the oration, which opens with this address, actually came from Cicero's pen. These instances, however simple, may serve to point out to a reader who is little accustomed to such researches the nature and value of the argument. The testimonies which we have to bring forward under this proposition are the following:-- I. There is extant an epistle ascribed to Barnabas,* the companion of Paul. It is quoted as the epistle of Barnabas, by Clement of Alexandria, A.D. CXCIV; by Origen, A.D. CCXXX. It is mentioned by Eusebius, A.D. CCCXV, and by Jerome, A.D. CCCXCII, as an ancient work in their time, bearing the name of Barnabas, and as well known and read amongst Christians, though not accounted a part of Scripture. It purports to have been written soon after the destruction of Jerusalem, during the calamities which followed that disaster; and it bears the character of the age to which it professes to belong. _________ * Lardner, Cred. edit. 1755, vol. i. p. 23, et seq. The reader will observe from the references, that the materials of these sections are almost entirely extracted from Dr. Lardner's work; my office consisted in arrangement and selection. _________ In this epistle appears the following remarkable passage:--"Let us, therefore, beware lest it come upon us, as it is written; There are many called, few chosen." From the expression, "as it is written," we infer with certainty, that at the time when the author of this epistle lived, there was a book extant, well known to Christians, and of authority amongst them, containing these words:--"Many are called, few chosen." Such a book is our present Gospel of Saint Matthew, in which this text is twice found, (Matt xx. 16; xxii. 14.) and is found in no other book now known. There is a further observation to be made upon the terms of the quotation. The writer of the epistle was a Jew. The phrase "it is written" was the very form in which the Jews quoted their Scriptures. It is not probable, therefore, that he would have used this phrase, and without qualification, of any book but what had acquired a kind of Scriptural authority. If the passage remarked in this ancient writing had been found in one of Saint Paul's Epistles, it would have been esteemed by every one a high testimony to Saint Matthew's Gospel. It ought, therefore, to be remembered, that the writing in which it is found was probably by very few years posterior to those of Saint Paul. Beside this passage, there are also in the epistle before us several others, in which the sentiment is the same with what we meet with in Saint Matthew's Gospel, and two or three in which we recognize the same words. In particular, the author of the epistle repeats the precept, "Give to every one that asketh thee;" (Matt. v. 42.) and saith that Christ chose as his apostles, who were to preach the Gospel, men who were great sinners, that he might show that he came "not to call the righteous, but sinners to repentance." (Matt. Ix. 13.) II. We are in possession of an epistle written by Clement, bishop of Rome, (Lardner, Cred. vol. p. 62, et seq.) whom ancient writers, without any doubt or scruple, assert to have been the Clement whom Saint Paul mentions, Phil. iv. 3; "with Clement also, and other my fellow-labourers, whose names are in the book of life." This epistle is spoken of by the ancients as an epistle acknowledged by all; and, as Irenaeus well represents its value, "written by Clement, who had seen the blessed apostles, and conversed with them; who had the preaching of the apostles still sounding in his ears, and their traditions before his eyes." It is addressed to the church of Corinth; and what alone may seem almost decisive of its authenticity, Dionysius, bishop of Corinth, about the year 170, i. e. about eighty or ninety years after the epistle was written, bears witness, "that it had been wont to be read in that church from ancient times." This epistle affords, amongst others, the following valuable passages:--"Especially remembering the words of the Lord Jesus, which he spake teaching gentleness and long-suffering: for thus he said:* Be ye merciful, that ye may obtain mercy; forgive, that it my be forgiven unto you; as you do, so shall it be done unto you; as you give, so shall it be given unto you; as ye judge, so shall ye be judged; as ye show kindness, so shall kindness be shown unto you; with what measure ye mete, with the same shall it be measured to you. By this command, and by these rules, let us establish ourselves, that we may always walk obediently to his holy words." _________ * "Blessed are the merciful, for they shall obtain mercy." Matt. v. 7.--"Forgive, and ye shall be forgiven; give, and it shall be given unto you." Luke vi. 37, 38.--"Judge not, that ye be not judged; for with what judgment ye judge, ye shall be judged; and with what measure ye mete, it shall be measured to you again." Matt. vii. 1, 2. _________ Again; "Remember the words of the Lord Jesus, for he said, Woe to that man by whom offences come; it were better for him that he had not been born, than that he should offend one of my elect; it were better for him that a millstone should be tied about his neck, and that he should be drowned in the sea, than that he should offend one of my little ones."* _________ * Matt. xviii. 6. "But whoso shall offend one of these little ones which believe in me, it were better for him that a mill-stone were hanged about his neck, and that he were cast into the sea." The latter part of the passage in Clement agrees exactly with Luke xvii. 2; "It were better for him that a mill-stone were hanged about his neck, and he cast into the sea, than that he should offend one of these little ones." _________ In both these passages we perceive the high respect paid to the words of Christ as recorded by the evangelists; "Remember the words of the Lord Jesus;--by this command, and by these rules, let us establish ourselves, that we may always walk obediently to his holy words." We perceive also in Clement a total unconsciousness of doubt whether these were the real words of Christ, which are read as such in the Gospels. This observation indeed belongs to the whole series of testimony, and especially to the most ancient part of it. Whenever anything now read in the Gospels is met with in an early Christian writing, it is always observed to stand there as acknowledged truth, i. e. to be introduced without hesitation, doubt, or apology. It is to be observed also, that, as this epistle was written in the name of the church of Rome, and addressed to the church of Corinth, it ought to be taken as exhibiting the judgment not only of Clement, who drew up the letter, but of these churches themselves, at least as to the authority of the books referred to. It may be said that, as Clement has not used words of quotation, it is not certain that he refers to any book whatever. The words of Christ which he has put down, he might himself have heard from the apostles, or might have received through the ordinary medium of oral tradition. This has been said: but that no such inference can be drawn from the absence of words of quotation, is proved by the three following considerations:--First, that Clement, in the very same manner, namely, without any mark of reference, uses a passage now found in the epistle to the Romans; (Rom. i. 29.) which passage, from the peculiarity of the words which compose it, and from their order, it is manifest that he must have taken from the book. The same remark may be repeated of some very singular sentiments in the Epistle to the Hebrews. Secondly, that there are many sentences of Saint Paul's First Epistle to the Corinthians standing in Clement's epistle without any sign of quotation, which yet certainly are quotations; because it appears that Clement had Saint Paul's epistle before him, inasmuch as in one place he mentions it in terms too express to leave us in any doubt:--"Take into your hands the epistle of the blessed apostle Paul." Thirdly, that this method of adopting words of Scripture without reference or acknowledgment was, as will appear in the sequel, a method in general use amongst the most ancient Christian writers.--These analogies not only repel the objection, but cast the presumption on the other side, and afford a considerable degree of positive proof, that the words in question have been borrowed from the places of Scripture in which we now find them. But take it if you will the other way, that Clement had heard these words from the apostles or first teachers of Christianity; with respect to the precise point of our argument, viz. that the Scriptures contain what the apostles taught, this supposition may serve almost as well. III. Near the conclusion of the epistle to the Romans, Saint Paul, amongst others, sends the following salutation: "Salute Asyncritus, Phlegon, Hermas, Patrobas, Hermes, and the brethren which are with them." Of Hermas, who appears in this catalogue of Roman Christians as contemporary with Saint Paul, a book bearing the name, and it is most probably rightly, is still remaining. It is called the Shepherd, (Lardner, Cred. vol. i. p. 111.) or pastor of Hermas. Its antiquity is incontestable, from the quotations of it in Irenaeus, A.D. 178; Clement of Alexandria, A.D. 194; Tertullian, A.D. 200; Origen, A.D. 230. The notes of time extant in the epistle itself agree with its title, and with the testimonies concerning it, for it purports to have been written during the life-time of Clement. In this place are tacit allusions to Saint Matthew's, Saint Luke's, and Saint John's Gospels; that is to say, there are applications of thoughts and expressions found in these Gospels, without citing the place or writer from which they were taken. In this form appear in Hermas the confessing and denying of Christ; (Matt. x. :i2, 33, or, Luke xli. 8, 9.) the parable of the seed sown (Matt. xiii. 3, or, Luke viii. 5); the comparison of Christ's disciples to little children; the saying "he that putteth away his wife, and marrieth another, committeth adultery" (Luke xvi. 18.); The singular expression, "having received all power from his Father," in probable allusion to Matt. xxviii. 18; and Christ being the "gate," or only way of coming "to God," in plain allusion to John xiv. 6; x. 7, 9. There is also a probable allusion to Acts v. 32. This piece is the representation of a vision, and has by many been accounted a weak and fanciful performance. I therefore observe, that the character of the writing has little to do with the purpose for which we adduce it. It is the age in which it was composed that gives the value to its testimony. IV. Ignatius, as it is testified by ancient Christian writers, became bishop of Antioch about thirty-seven years after Christ's ascension; and, therefore, from his time, and place, and station, it is probable that he had known and conversed with many of the apostles. Epistles of Ignatius are referred to by Polycarp, his contemporary. Passages found in the epistles now extant under his name are quoted by Irenaeus, A.D. 178; by Origen, A.D. 230; and the occasion of writing the epistles is given at large by Eusebius and Jerome. What are called the smaller epistles of Ignatius are generally deemed to be those which were read by Irenaeus, Origen, and Eusebius (Lardner, Cred. vol. i. p. 147.). In these epistles are various undoubted allusions to the Gospels of Saint Matthew and Saint John; yet so far of the same form with those in the preceding articles, that, like them, they are not accompanied with marks of quotation. Of these allusions the following are clear specimens: Matt.*: "Christ was baptized of John, that all righteousness might be fulfilled by him." "Be ye wise as serpents in all things, and harmless as a dove." John+: "Yet the Spirit is not deceived, being from God: for it knows whence it comes and whither it goes." "He (Christ) is the door of the Father, by which enter in Abraham and Isaac, and Jacob, and the apostles, and the church." _________ * Chap. iii. 15. "For thus it becometh us to fulfil all righteousness." Chap. x. 16. "Be ye therefore wise as serpents, and harmless as doves." + Chap. iii. 8. "The wind bloweth where it listeth and thou hearest the sound thereof, but canst not tell whence it cometh, and whither it goeth; so is everyone that is born of the Spirit." Chap. x. 9. "I am the door; by me if any man enter in he shall be saved." _________ As to the manner of quotation, this is observable;--Ignatius, in one place, speaks of St. Paul in terms of high respect, and quotes his Epistle to the Ephesians by name; yet, in several other places, he borrows words and sentiments from the same epistle without mentioning it; which shows that this was his general manner of using and applying writings then extant, and then of high authority. V. Polycarp (Lardner, Cred. vol. i. 192.) had been taught by the apostles; had conversed with many who had seen Christ; was also by the apostles appointed bishop of Smyrna. This testimony concerning Polycarp is given by Irenaeus, who in his youth had seen him:--"I can tell the place," saith Irenaeus, "in which the blessed Polycarp sat and taught, and his going out and coming in, and the manner of his life, and the form of his person, and the discourses he made to the people, and how he related his conversation with John, and others who had seen the Lord, and how he related their sayings, and what he had heard concerning the Lord, both concerning his miracles and his doctrine, as he had received them from the eyewitnesses of the word of life: all which Polycarp related agreeable to the Scriptures." Of Polycarp, whose proximity to the age and country and persons of the apostles is thus attested, we have one undoubted epistle remaining. And this, though a short letter, contains nearly forty clear allusions to books of the New Testament; which is strong evidence of the respect which Christians of that age bore for these books. Amongst these, although the writings of St. Paul are more frequently used by Polycarp than any other parts of Scripture, there are copious allusions to the Gospel of St. Matthew, some to passages found in the Gospels both of Matthew and Luke, and some which more nearly resemble the words in Luke. I select the following as fixing the authority of the Lord's prayer, and the use of it amongst the primitive Christians: "If therefore we pray the Lord, that he will forgive us, we ought also to forgive." "With supplication beseeching the all-seeing God not to lead us into temptation." And the following, for the sake of repeating an observation already made, that words of our Lord found in our Gospels were at this early day quoted as spoken by him; and not only so, but quoted with so little question or consciousness of doubt about their being really his words, as not even to mention, much less to canvass, the authority from which they were taken: "But remembering what the Lord said, teaching, Judge not, that ye be not judged; forgive, and ye shall be forgiven; be ye merciful, that ye may obtain mercy; with what measure ye mete, it shall be measured to you again." (Matt. vii. 1, 2; v. 7; Luke vi. 37, 38.) Supposing Polycarp to have had these words from the books in which we now find them, it is manifest that these books were considered by him, and, as he thought, considered by his readers, us authentic accounts of Christ's discourses; and that that point was incontestible [sic]. The following is a decisive, though what we call a tacit reference to St. Peter's speech in the Acts of the Apostles:--"whom God hath raised, having loosed the pains of death." (Acts ii. 24.) VI. Papias, (Lardner, Cred. vol. i. p. 239.) a hearer of John, and companion of Polycarp, as Irenaeus attests, and of that age, as all agree, in a passage quoted by Eusebius, from a work now lost, expressly ascribes the respective Gospels to Matthew and Mark; and in a manner which proves that these Gospels must have publicly borne the names of these authors at that time, and probably long before; for Papias does not say that one Gospel was written by Matthew, and another by Mark; but, assuming this as perfectly well known, he tells us from what materials Mark collected his account, viz. from Peter's preaching, and in what language Matthew wrote, viz. in Hebrew. Whether Papias was well informed in this statement, or not; to the point for which I produce this testimony, namely, that these books bore these names at this time, his authority is complete. The writers hitherto alleged had all lived and conversed with some of the apostles. The works of theirs which remain are in general very short pieces, yet rendered extremely valuable by their antiquity; and none, short as they are, but what contain some important testimony to our historical Scriptures.* _________ * That the quotations are more thinly strewn in these than in the writings of the next and of succeeding ages, is in a good measure accounted for by the observation, that the Scriptures of the New Testament had not yet, nor by their recency hardly could have, become a general part of Christian education; read as the Old Testament was by Jews and Christians from their childhood, and thereby intimately mixing, as that had long done, with all their religious ideas, and with their language upon religious subjects. In process of time, and as soon perhaps as could be expected, this came to be the case. And then we perceive the effect, in a proportionably greater frequency, as well as copiousness of allusion.--Mich. Introd. c. ii. sect. vi. _________ VII. Not long after these, that is, not much more than twenty years after the last, follows Justin Martyr (Lardner, Cred. vol. i. p. 258.). His remaining works are much larger than any that have yet been noticed. Although the nature of his two principal writings, one of which was addressed to heathens, and the other was a conference with a Jew, did not lead him to such frequent appeals to Christian books as would have appeared in a discourse intended for Christian readers; we nevertheless reckon up in them between twenty and thirty quotations of the Gospels and Acts of the Apostles, certain, distinct, and copious: if each verse be counted separately, a much greater number; if each expression, a very great one.* _________ * "He cites our present canon, and particularly our four Gospels, continually, I dare say, above two hundred times." Jones's New and Full Method. Append. vol. i. p. 589, ed. 1726. _________ We meet with quotations of three of the Gospels within the compass of half a page: "And in other words he says, Depart from me into outer darkness, which the Father hath prepared for Satan and his angels," (which is from Matthew xxv. 41.) "And again he said, in other words, I give unto you power to tread upon serpents and scorpions, and venomous beasts, and upon all the power of the enemy." (This from Luke x. 19.) "And before he was crucified, he said, The Son of Man must suffer many things, and be rejected of the Scribes and Pharisees, and be crucified, and rise again the third day." (This from Mark viii. 31.) In another place Justin quotes a passage in the history of Christ's birth, as delivered by Matthew and John, and fortifies his quotation by this remarkable testimony: "As they have taught, who have written the history of all things concerning our Saviour Jesus Christ; and we believe them." Quotations are also found from the Gospel of Saint John. What moreover seems extremely material to be observed is, that in all Justin's works, from which might be extracted almost a complete life of Christ, there are but two instances in which he refers to anything as said or done by Christ, which is not related concerning him in our present Gospels: which shows, that these Gospels, and these, we may say, alone, were the authorities from which the Christians of that day drew the information upon which they depended. One of these instances is of a saying of Christ, not met with in any book now extant.+ _________ + "Wherefore also our Lord Jesus Christ has said, In whatsoever I shall find you, in the same I will also judge you." Possibly Justin designed not to quote any text, but to represent the sense of many of our Lord's sayings. Fabrieius has observed, that this saying has been quoted by many writers, and that Justin is the only one who ascribes it to our Lord, and that perhaps by a slip of his memory. Words resembling these are read repeatedly in Ezekiel; "I will judge them according to their ways;" (chap. vii. 3; xxxiii. 20.) It is remarkable that Justin had just before expressly quoted Ezekiel. Mr. Jones upon this circumstance founded a conjecture, that Justin wrote only "the Lord hath said," intending to quote the words of God, or rather the sense of those words in Ezekiel; and that some transcriber, imagining these to be the words of Christ, inserted in his copy the addition "Jesus Christ." Vol. 1. p. 539. _________ The other of a circumstance in Christ's baptism, namely, a fiery or luminous appearance upon the water, which, according to Epiphanius, is noticed in the Gospel of the Hebrews: and which might be true: but which, whether true or false, is mentioned by Justin, with a plain mark of diminution when compared with what he quotes as resting upon Scripture authority. The reader will advert to this distinction: "and then, when Jesus came to the river Jordan, where John was baptizing, as Jesus descended into the water, a fire also was kindled in Jordan: and when he came up out of the water, (the apostles of this our Christ have written), that the Holy Ghost lighted upon him as a dove." All the references in Justin are made without mentioning the author; which proves that these books were perfectly notorious, and that there were no other accounts of Christ then extant, or, at least, no other so received and credited as to make it necessary to distinguish these from the rest. But although Justin mentions not the author's name, he calls the books, "Memoirs composed by the Apostles;" "Memoirs composed by the Apostles and their Companions;" which descriptions, the latter especially, exactly suit with the titles which the Gospels and Acts of the Apostles now bear. VIII. Hegesippus (Lardner, Cred. vol. i. p. 314.) came about thirty years after Justin. His testimony is remarkable only for this particular; that he relates of himself that, travelling from Palestine to Rome, he visited, on his journey, many bishops; and that, "in every succession, and in every city, the same doctrine is taught, which the Law and the Prophets, and the Lord teacheth." This is an important attestation, from good authority, and of high antiquity. It is generally understood that by the word "Lord," Hegesippus intended some writing or writings, containing the teaching of Christ; in which sense alone the term combines with the other term "Law and Prophets," which denote writings; and together with them admit of the verb "teacheth" in the present tense. Then, that these writings were some or all of the books of the New Testament, is rendered probable from hence, that in the fragments of his works, which are preserved in Eusebius, and in a writer of the ninth century, enough, though it be little, is left to show, that Hegesippus expressed divers thing in the style of the Gospels, and of the Acts of the Apostles; that he referred to the history in the second chapter of Matthew, and recited a text of that Gospel as spoken by our Lord. IX. At this time, viz. about the year 170, the churches of Lyons and Vienne, in France, sent a relation of the sufferings of their martyrs to the churches of Asia and Phrygia. (Lardner, Cred. vol. i. p. 332.) The epistle is preserved entire by Eusebius. And what carries in some measure the testimony of these churches to a higher age, is, that they had now for their bishop, Pothinus, who was ninety years old, and whose early life consequently must have immediately joined on with the times of the apostles. In this epistle are exact references to the Gospels of Luke and John, and to the Acts of the Apostles; the form of reference the same as in all the preceding articles. That from Saint John is in these words: "Then was fulfilled that which was spoken by the Lord, that whosoever killeth you, will think that he doeth God service." (John xvi. 2.) X. The evidence now opens upon us full and clear. Irenaeus (Lardner, vol. i. p. 344.) succeeded Pothinus as bishop of Lyons. In his youth he had been a disciple of Polycarp, who was a disciple of John. In the time in which he lived, he was distant not much more than a century from the publication of the Gospels; in his instruction only by one step separated from the persons of the apostles. He asserts of himself and his contemporaries, that they were able to reckon up, in all the principal churches, the succession of bishops from the first. (Adv. Haeres. 1. iii. c. 3.) I remark these particulars concerning Irenaeus with more formality than usual, because the testimony which this writer affords to the historical books of the New Testament, to their authority, and to the titles which they bear, is express, positive, and exclusive. One principal passage, in which this testimony is contained, opens with a precise assertion of the point which we have laid down as the foundation of our argument, viz., that the story which the Gospels exhibit is the story which the apostles told. "We have not received," saith Irenaeus, "the knowledge of the way of our salvation by any others than those by whom the Gospel has been brought to us. Which Gospel they first preached, and afterwards, by the will of God, committed to writing, that it might be for time to come the foundation and pillar of our faith.--For after that our Lord arose from the dead, and they (the apostles) were endowed from above with the power of the Holy Ghost coming down upon them, they received a perfect knowledge of all things. They then went forth to all the ends of the earth, declaring to men the Message of heavenly peace, having all of them, and every one, alike the Gospel of God. Matthew then, among the Jews, wrote a Gospel in their own language, while Peter and Paul were preaching the Gospel at Rome, and founding a church there: and after their exit, Mark also, the disciple and interpreter of Peter, delivered to us in writing the things that had been preached by Peter and Luke, the companion of Paul, put down in a book the Gospel preached by him (Paul). Afterwards John, the disciple of the Lord, who also leaned upon his breast, he likewise published a Gospel while he dwelt at Ephesus in Asia." If any modern divine should write a book upon the genuineness of the Gospels, he could not assert it more expressly, or state their original more distinctly, than Irenaeus hath done within little more than a hundred years after they were published. The correspondency, in the days of Irenaeus, of the oral and written tradition, and the deduction of the oral tradition through various channels from the age of the apostles, which was then lately passed, and, by consequence, the probability that the books truly delivered what the apostles taught, is inferred also with strict regularity from another passage of his works. "The tradition of the apostles," this father saith, "hath spread itself over the whole universe; and all they who search after the sources of truth will find this tradition to be held sacred in every church, We might enumerate all those who have been appointed bishops to these churches by the apostles, and all their successors, up to our days. It is by this uninterrupted succession that we have received the tradition which actually exists in the church, as also the doctrines of truth, as it was preached by the apostles." (Iren. in Haer. I. iii. c. 3.) The reader will observe upon this, that the same Irenaeus, who is now stating the strength and uniformity of the tradition, we have before seen recognizing, in the fullest manner, the authority of the written records; from which we are entitled to conclude, that they were then conformable to each other. I have said that the testimony of Irenaeus in favour of our Gospels is exclusive of all others. I allude to a remarkable passage in his works, in which, for some reasons sufficiently fanciful, he endeavours to show that there could he neither more nor fewer Gospels than four. With his argument we have no concern. The position itself proves that four, and only four, Gospels were at that time publicly read and acknowledged. That these were our Gospels, and in the state in which we now have them, is shown from many other places of this writer beside that which we have already alleged. He mentions how Matthew begins his Gospel, bow Mark begins and ends his, and their supposed reasons for so doing. He enumerates at length the several passages of Christ's history in Luke, which are not found in any of the other evangelists. He states the particular design with which Saint John composed his Gospel, and accounts for the doctrinal declarations which precede the narrative. To the book of the Acts of the Apostles, its author, and credit, the testimony of Irenaeus is no less explicit. Referring to the account of Saint Paul's conversion and vocation, in the ninth chapter of that book, "Nor can they," says he, meaning the parties with whom he argues, "show that he is not to be credited, who has related to us the truth with the greatest exactness." In another place, he has actually collected the several texts, in which the writer of the history is represented as accompanying Saint Paul; which leads him to deliver a summary of almost the whole of the last twelve chapters of the book. In an author thus abounding with references and allusions to the Scriptures, there is not one to any apocryphal Christian writing whatever. This is a broad line of distinction between our sacred books and the pretensions of all others. The force of the testimony of the period which we have considered is greatly strengthened by the observation, that it is the testimony, and the concurring testimony, of writers who lived in countries remote from one another. Clement flourished at Rome, Ignatius at Antioch, Polycarp at Smyrna, Justin Martyr in Syria, and Irenaeus in France. XI. Omitting Athenagoras and Theophilus, who lived about this time; (Lardner, vol. i. p. 400 & 422.) in the remaining works of the former of whom are clear references to Mark and Luke; and in the works of the latter, who was bishop of Antioch, the sixth in succession from the apostles, evident allusions to Matthew and John, and probable allusions to Luke (which, considering the nature of the compositions, that they were addressed to heathen readers, is as much as could be expected); observing also, that the works of two learned Christian writers of the same age, Miltiades and Pantaenus, (Lardner, vol. i. p.413, 450.) are now lost: of which Miltiades Eusebius records, that his writings "were monuments of zeal for the Divine Oracles;" and which Pantaenus, as Jerome testifies, was a man of prudence and learning, both in the Divine Scriptures and secular literature, and had left many commentaries upon the Holy Scriptures then extant. Passing by these without further remark, we come to one of the most voluminous of ancient Christian writers, Clement of Alexandria (Lardner, vol. ii. p. 469.). Clement followed Irenaeus at the distance of only sixteen years, and therefore may be said to maintain the series of testimony in an uninterrupted continuation. In certain of Clement's works, now lost, but of which various parts are recited by Eusebius, there is given a distinct account of the order in which the four Gospels were written. The Gospels which contain the genealogies were (he says) written first; Mark's next, at the instance of Peter's followers; and John's the last; and this account he tells us that he had received from presbyters of more ancient times. This testimony proves the following points; that these Gospels were the histories of Christ then publicly received and relied upon; and that the dates, occasions, and circumstances, of their publication were at that time subjects of attention and inquiry amongst Christians. In the works of Clement which remain, the four Gospels are repeatedly quoted by the names of their authors, and the Acts of the Apostles is expressly ascribed to Luke. In one place, after mentioning a particular circumstance, he adds these remarkable words: "We have not this passage in the four Gospels delivered to us, but in that according to the Egyptians;" which puts a marked distinction between the four Gospels and all other histories, or pretended histories, of Christ. In another part of his works, the perfect confidence with which he received the Gospels is signified by him in these words: "That this is true appears from hence, that it is written in the Gospel according to Saint Luke;" and again, "I need not use many words, but only to allege the evangelic voice of the Lord." His quotations are numerous. The sayings of Christ, of which he alleges many, are all taken from our Gospels; the single exception to this observation appearing to be a loose quotation of a passage in Saint Matthew's Gospel.* _________ * "Ask great things and the small shall be added unto you." Clement rather chose to expound the words of Matthew (chap. vi. 33), than literally to cite them; and this is most undeniably proved by another place in the same Clement, where he both produces the text and these words am an exposition:--"Seek ye first the kingdom of heaven and its righteousness, for these are the great things; but the small things, and things relating to this life, shall be added unto you." Jones's New and Full Method, vol. i. p. 553. _________ XII. In the age in which they lived, (Lardner, vol. ii. p. 561.) Tertullian joins on with Clement. The number of the Gospels then received, the names of the evangelists, and their proper descriptions, are exhibited by this writer in one short sentence:--"Among the apostles John and Matthew teach us the faith; among apostolical men, Luke and Mark refresh it." The next passage to be taken from Tertullian affords as complete an attestation to the authenticity of our books as can be well imagined. After enumerating the churches which had been founded by Paul at Corinth, in Galatia, at Philippi, Thessalonica, and Ephesus; the church of Rome established by Peter and Paul, and other churches derived from John; he proceeds thus:--"I say, then, that with them, but not with them only which are apostolical, but with all who have fellowship with them in the same faith, is that Gospel of Luke received from its first publication, which we so zealously maintain:" and presently afterwards adds, "The same authority of the apostolical churches will support the other Gospels which we have from them and according to them, I mean John's and Matthew's; although that likewise which Mark published may be said to be Peter's, whose interpreter Mark was." In another place Tertullian affirms, that the three other Gospels were in the hands of the churches from the beginning, as well as Luke's. This noble testimony fixes the universality with which the Gospels were received and their antiquity; that they were in the hands of all, and had been so from the first. And this evidence appears not more than one hundred and fifty years after the publication of the books. The reader must be given to understand that, when Tertullian speaks of maintaining or defending (tuendi) the Gospel of Saint Luke, he only means maintaining or defending the integrity of the copies of Luke received by Christian churches, in opposition to certain curtailed copies used by Marcion, against whom he writes. This author frequently cites the Acts of the Apostles under that title, once calls it Luke's Commentary, and observes how Saint Paul's epistles confirm it. After this general evidence, it is unnecessary to add particular quotations. These, however, are so numerous and ample as to have led Dr. Lardner to observe, "that there are more and larger quotations of the small volume of the New Testament in this one Christian author, than there are of all the works of Cicero in writers of all characters for several ages." (Lardner, vol ii. p. 647.) Tertullian quotes no Christian writing as of equal authority with the Scriptures, and no spurious books at all; a broad line of distinction, we may once more observe, between our sacred books and all others. We may again likewise remark the wide extent through which the reputation of the Gospels, and of the Acts of the Apostles had spread, and the perfect consent, in this point, of distant and independent societies. It is now only about one hundred and fifty years since Christ was crucified; and within this period, to say nothing of the apostolical fathers who have been noticed already, we have Justin Martyr at Neapolis, Theophilus at Antioch, Irenaeus in France, Clement at Alexandria, Tertullian at Carthage, quoting the same books of historical Scriptures, and I may say, quoting these alone. XIII. An interval of only thirty years, and that occupied by no small number of Christian writers, (Minucius Felix, Apollonius, Caius, Asterius Urbanus Alexander bishop of Jerusalem, Hippolytus, Ammonius Julius Africanus) whose works only remain in fragments and quotations, and in every one of which is some reference or other to the Gospels (and in one of them, Hippolytus, as preserved in Theodoret, is an abstract of the whole Gospel history), brings us to a name of great celebrity in Christian antiquity, Origen (Lardner, vol. iii. p. 234.) of Alexandria, who in the quantity of his writings exceeded the most laborious of the Greek and Latin authors. Nothing can be more peremptory upon the subject now under consideration, and, from a writer of his learning and information, more satisfactory, than the declaration of Origen, preserved, in an extract from his works, by Eusebius; "That the four Gospels alone are received without dispute by the whole church of God under heaven:" to which declaration is immediately subjoined a brief history of the respective authors to whom they were then, as they are now, ascribed. The language holden concerning the Gospels, throughout the works of Origen which remain, entirely corresponds with the testimony here cited. His attestation to the Acts of the Apostles is no less Positive: "And Luke also once more sounds the trumpet, relating the acts of the apostles." The universality with which the Scriptures were then read is well signified by this writer in a passage in which he has occasion to observe against Celsus, "That it is not in any private books, or such as are read by a few only, and those studious persons, but in books read by everybody, That it is written, The invisible things of God from the creation of the world are clearly seen, being understood by things that are made." It is to no purpose to single out quotations of Scripture from such a writer as this. We might as well make a selection of the quotations of Scripture in Dr. Clarke's Sermons. They are so thickly sown in the works of Origen, that Dr. Mill says, "If we had all his works remaining, we should have before us almost the whole text of the Bible." (Mill, Proleg. esp. vi. p. 66.) Origen notices, in order to censure, certain apocryphal Gospels. He also uses four writings of this sort; that is, throughout his large works he once or twice, at the most, quotes each of the four; but always with some mark, either of direct reprobation or of caution to his readers, manifestly esteeming them of little or no authority. XIV. Gregory, bishop of Neocaesaea, and Dionysius of Alexandria, were scholars of Origen. Their testimony, therefore, though full and particular, may be reckoned a repetition only of his. The series, however, of evidence is continued by Cyprian, bishop of Carthage, who flourished within twenty years after Origen. "The church," said this father, "is watered, like Paradise, by four rivers, that is, by four Gospels." The Acts of the Apostles is also frequently quoted by Cyprian under that name, and under the name of the "Divine Scriptures." In his various writings are such constant and copious citations of Scripture, as to place this part of the testimony beyond controversy. Nor is there, in the works of this eminent African bishop, one quotation of a spurious or apocryphal Christian writing. XV. Passing over a crowd* of writers following Cyprian at different distances, but all within forty years of his time; and who all, in the perfect remains of their works, either cite the historical Scriptures of the New Testament, or speak of them in terms of profound respect: I single out Victorin, bishop of Pettaw, in Germany, merely on account of the remoteness of his situation from that of Origen and Cyprian, who were Africans; by which circumstance his testimony, taken in conjunction with theirs, proves that the Scripture histories, and the same histories, were known and received from one side of the Christian world to the other. This bishop (Lardner, vol. v. p. 214.) lived about the year 290: and in a commentary upon this text of the Revelation, "The first was like a lion, the second was like a calf, the third like a man, and the fourth like a flying eagle," he makes out that by the four creatures are intended the four Gospels; and, to show the propriety of the symbols, he recites the subject with which each evangelist opens his history. The explication is fanciful, but the testimony positive. He also expressly cites the Acts of the Apostles. _________ * Novatus, Rome, A.D. 251; Dionysius, Rome, A.D. 259; Commodian, A.D. 270; Anatolius, Laodicea, A.D. 270; Theognostus A.D. 282; Methodius Lycia, A.D. 290; Phileas, Egypt, A.D. 296. _________ XVI. Arnobius and Lactantius (Lardner, vol. viii. p. 43, 201.), about the year 300, composed formal arguments upon the credibility of the Christian religion. As these arguments were addressed to Gentiles, the authors abstain from quoting Christian books by name, one of them giving this very reason for his reserve; but when they came to state, for the information of their readers, the outlines of Christ's history, it is apparent that they draw their accounts from our Gospels, and from no other sources; for these statements exhibit a summary of almost everything which is related of Christ's actions and miracles by the four evangelists. Arnobius vindicates, without mentioning their names, the credit of these historians; observing that they were eye-witnesses of the facts which they relate, and that their ignorance of the arts of composition was rather a confirmation of their testimony, than an objection to it. Lactantius also argues in defence of the religion, from the consistency, simplicity, disinterestedness, and sufferings of the Christian historians, meaning by that term our evangelists. XVII. We close the series of testimonies with that of Eusebius, (Lardner, vol. viii. p. 33.) bishop of Caesarea who flourished in the year 315, contemporary with, or posterior only by fifteen years to, the authors last cited. This voluminous writer, and most diligent collector of the writings of others, beside a variety of large works, composed a history of the affairs of Christianity from its origin to his own time. His testimony to the Scriptures is the testimony of a man much conversant in the works of Christian authors, written during the first three centuries of its era, and who had read many which are now lost. In a passage of his Evangelical Demonstration, Eusebius remarks, with great nicety, the delicacy of two of the evangelists, in their manner of noticing any circumstance which regarded themselves; and of Mark, as writing under Peter's direction, in the circumstances which regarded him. The illustration of this remark leads him to bring together long quotations from each of the evangelists: and the whole passage is a proof that Eusebius, and the Christians of those days, not only read the Gospels, but studied them with attention and exactness. In a passage of his ecclesiastical History, he treats, in form, and at large, of the occasions of writing the four Gospels, and of the order in which they were written. The title of the chapter is, "Of the Order of the Gospels;" and it begins thus: "Let us observe the writings of this apostle John, which are not contradicted by any: and, first of all, must be mentioned, as acknowledged by all, the Gospel according to him, well-known to all the churches under heaven; and that it has been justly placed by the ancients the fourth in order, and after the other three, may be made evident in this manner."--Eusebius then proceeds to show that John wrote the last of the four, and that his Gospel was intended to supply the omissions of the others; especially in the part of our Lord's ministry which took place before the imprisonment of John the Baptist. He observes, "that the apostles of Christ were not studious of the ornaments of composition, nor indeed forward to write at all, being wholly occupied with their ministry." This learned author makes no use at all of Christian writings, forged with the names of Christ's apostle, or their companions. We close this branch of our evidence here, because, after Eusebius, there is no room for any question upon the subject; the works of Christian writers being as full of texts of Scripture, and of references to Scripture, as the discourses of modern divines. Future testimonies to the books of Scripture could only prove that they never lost their character or authority. SECTION II. When the Scriptures are quoted, or alluded to, they are quoted with peculiar respect, as books sui generis; as possessing an authority which belonged to no other books, and as conclusive in all questions and controversies amongst Christians. Beside the general strain of reference and quotation, which uniformly and strongly indicates this distinction, the following may be regarded as specific testimonies: I. Theophilus, (Lardner, Cred. part ii. vol. i. p. 429.) bishop of Antioch, the sixth in succession from the apostles, and who flourished little more than a century after the books of the New Testament were written, having occasion to quote one of our Gospels, writes thus: "These things the Holy Scriptures teach us, and all who were moved by the Holy Spirit, among whom John says, In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God." Again: "Concerning the righteousness which the law teaches, the like things are to be found in the prophets and the Gospels, because that all, being inspired, spoke by one and the same Spirit of God." (Lardner, Cred. part ii. vol. i. p. 448.) No words can testify more strongly than these do, the high and peculiar respect in which these books were holden. II. A writer against Artemon, (Lardner, Cred. part ii. vol. iii. p. 40.) who may be supposed to come about one hundred and fifty-eight years after the publication of the Scripture, in a passage quoted by Eusebius, uses these expressions: "Possibly what they (our adversaries) say, might have been credited, if first of all the Divine Scriptures did not contradict them; and then the writings of certain brethren more ancient than the times of Victor." The brethren mentioned by name are Justin, Miltiades, Tatian, Clement, Irenaeus, Melito, with a general appeal to many more not named. This passage proves, first, that there was at that time a collection called Divine Scriptures; secondly, that these Scriptures were esteemed of higher authority than the writings of the most early and celebrated Christians. III. In a piece ascribed to Hippolytus, (Lardner, Cred. vol. iii. p. 112.) who lived near the same time, the author professes, in giving his correspondent instruction in the things about which he inquires, "to draw out of the sacred-fountain, and to set before him from the Sacred Scriptures what may afford him satisfaction." He then quotes immediately Paul's epistles to Timothy, and afterwards many books of the New Testament. This preface to the quotations carries in it a marked distinction between the Scriptures and other books. IV. "Our assertions and discourses," saith Origen, (Lardner, Cred. vol. iii. pp. 287-289.) "are unworthy of credit; we must receive the Scriptures as witnesses." After treating of the duty of prayer, he proceeds with his argument thus: "What we have said, may be proved from the Divine Scriptures." In his books against Celsus we find this passage: "That our religion teaches us to seek after wisdom, shall be shown, both out of the ancient Jewish Scriptures which we also use, and out of those written since Jesus, which are believed in the churches to be divine." These expressions afford abundant evidence of the peculiar and exclusive authority which the Scriptures possessed. V. Cyprian, bishop of Carthage, (Lardner, Cred. vol. vi. p. 840.) whose age lies close to that of Origen, earnestly exhorts Christian teachers, in all doubtful cases, "to go back to the fountain; and, if the truth has in any case been shaken, to recur to the Gospels and apostolic writings."--"The precepts of the Gospel," says he in another place, "are nothing less than authoritative divine lessons, the foundations of our hope, the supports of our faith, the guides of our way, the safeguards of our course to heaven." VI. Novatus, (Lardner, Cred. vol. v. p. 102.) a Roman contemporary with Cyprian, appeals to the Scriptures, as the authority by which all errors were to be repelled, and disputes decided. "That Christ is not only man, but God also, is proved by the sacred authority of the Divine Writings."--"The Divine Scripture easily detects and confutes the frauds of heretics."--"It is not by the fault of the heavenly Scriptures, which never deceive." Stronger assertions than these could not be used. VII. At the distance of twenty years from the writer last cited, Anatolius (Lardner, Cred. vol. v. p. 146.), a learned Alexandrian, and bishop of Laedicea, speaking of the rule for keeping Easter, a question at that day agitated with much earnestness, says of those whom he opposed, "They can by no means prove their point by the authority of the Divine Scripture." VIII. The Arians, who sprung up about fifty years after this, argued strenuously against the use of the words consubstantial, and essence, and like phrases; "because they were not in Scripture." (Lardner, Cred. vol. vii. pp. 283-284.) And in the same strain one of their advocates opens a conference with Augustine, after the following manner: "If you say what is reasonable, I must submit. If you allege anything from the Divine Scriptures which are common to both, I must hear. But unscriptural expressions (quae extra Scripturam sunt) deserve no regard." Athanasius, the great antagonist of Arianism, after having enumerated the books of the Old and New Testament, adds, "These are the fountain of salvation, that he who thirsts may be satisfied with the oracles contained in them. In these alone the doctrine of salvation is proclaimed. Let no man add to them, or take anything from them." (Lardner, Cred. vol. xii. p. 182.) IX. Cyril, bishop of Jerusalem (Lardner, Cred. vol. viii. p. 276.), who wrote about twenty years after the appearance of Arianism, uses these remarkable words: "Concerning the divine and holy mysteries of faith, not the least article ought to be delivered without the Divine Scriptures." We are assured that Cyril's Scriptures were the same as ours, for he has left us a catalogue of the books included under that name. X. Epiphanius, (Lardner, Cred. vol. viii. p. 314.) twenty years after Cyril, challenges the Arians, and the followers of Origen, "to produce any passage of the Old and New Testament favouring their sentiments." XI. Poebadius, a Gallic bishop, who lived about thirty years after the council of Nice, testifies, that "the bishops of that council first consulted the sacred volumes, and then declared their faith." (Lardner, Cred. vol. ix. p. 52.) XII. Basil, bishop of Caesarea, in Cappadocia, contemporary with Epiphanius, says, that "hearers instructed in the Scriptures ought to examine what is said by their teachers, and to embrace what is agreeable to the Scriptures, and to reject what is otherwise." (Lardner, Cred. vol. ix. p. 124.) XIII. Ephraim, the Syrian, a celebrated writer of the same times, bears this conclusive testimony to the proposition which forms the subject of our present chapter: "the truth written in the Sacred Volume of the Gospel is a perfect rule. Nothing can be taken from it nor added to it, without great guilt." (Lardner, Cred. vol. ix. p. 202.) XIV. If we add Jerome to these, it is only for the evidence which he affords of the judgment of preceding ages. Jerome observes, concerning the quotations of ancient Christian writers, that is, of writers who were ancient in the year 400, that they made a distinction between books; some they quoted as of authority, and others not: which observation relates to the books of Scripture, compared with other writings, apocryphal or heathen. (Lardner, Cred. vol. x. pp. 123-124.) SECTION III. The Scriptures were in very early times collected into a distinct volume. Ignatius, who was bishop of Antioch within forty years after the Ascension, and who had lived and conversed with the apostles, speaks of the Gospel and of the apostles in terms which render it very probable that he meant by the Gospel the book or volume of the Gospels, and by the apostles the book or volume of their Epistles. His words in one place are, (Lardner, Cred. part ii. vol. i. p. 180.) "Fleeing to the Gospel as the flesh of Jesus, and to the apostles as the presbytery of the church;" that is, as Le Clere interprets them, "in order to understand the will of God, he fled to the Gospels, which he believed no less than if Christ in the flesh had been speaking to him; and to the writings of the apostles, whom he esteemed as the presbytery of the whole Christian church." It must be observed, that about eighty years after this we have direct proof, in the writings of Clement of Alexandria, (Lardner, Cred. part ii. vol. ii. p. 516.) that these two names, "Gospel," and "Apostles," were the names by which the writings of the New Testament, and the division of these writings, were usually expressed. Another passage from Ignatius is the following:--"But the Gospel has somewhat in it more excellent, the appearance of our Lord Jesus Christ, his passion and resurrection." (Lardner, Cred. part ii. vol. ii. p. 182.) And a third: "Ye ought to hearken to the Prophets, but especially to the gospel, in which the passion has been manifested to us, and the resurrection perfected." In this last passage, the Prophets and the Gospel are put in conjunction; and as Ignatius undoubtedly meant by the prophets a collection of writings, it is probable that he meant the same by the Gospel, the two terms standing in evident parallelism with each other. This interpretation of the word "Gospel," in the passages above quoted from Ignatius, is confirmed by a piece of nearly equal antiquity, the relation of the martyrdom of Polycarp by the church of Smyrna. "All things," say they, "that went before, were done, that the Lord might show us a martyrdom according to the Gospel, for he expected to be delivered up as the Lord also did." (Ignat. Ep. c.i.) And in another place, "We do not commend those who offer themselves, forasmuch as the Gospel, teaches us no such thing." (Ignat. Ep. c. iv.) In both these places, what is called the Gospel seems to be the history of Jesus Christ, and of his doctrine. If this be the true sense of the passages, they are not only evidences of our proposition, by strong and very ancient proofs of the high esteem in which the books of the New Testament were holden. II. Eusebius relates, that Quadratus and some others, who were the immediate successors of the apostles, travelling abroad to preach Christ, carried the Gospels with them, and delivered them to their converts. The words of Eusebius are: "Then travelling abroad, they performed the work of evangelists, being ambitious to preach Christ, and deliver the Scripture of the divine Gospels." (Lardner, Cred. part ii. vol. i. p. 236.) Eusebius had before him the writings both of Quadratus himself, and of many others of that age, which are now lost. It is reasonable, therefore to believe that he had good grounds for his assertion. What is thus recorded of the Gospels took place within sixty, or at the most seventy, years after they were published: and it is evident that they must, before this time (and, it is probable, long before this time), have been in general use and in high esteem in the churches planted by the apostles, inasmuch as they were now, we find, collected into a volume: and the immediate successors of the apostles, they who preached the religion of Christ to those who had not already heard it, carried the volume with them, and delivered it to their converts. III. Irenaeus, in the year 178, (Lardner, Cred. part ii. vol. i. p. 383.) puts the evangelic and apostolic writings in connexion with the Law and the Prophets, manifestly intending by the one a code or collection of Christian sacred writings, as the other expressed the code or collection of Jewish sacred writings. And, IV. Melito, at this time bishop of Sardis, writing to one Onesimus, tells his correspondent, (Lardner, Cred. vol. i. p. 331.) that he had procured an accurate account of the books of the Old Testament. The occurrence in this message of the term Old Testament has been brought to prove, and it certainly does prove, that there was then a volume or collection of writings called the New Testament. V. In the time of Clement of Alexandria, about fifteen years after the last quoted testimony, it is apparent that the Christian Scriptures were divided into two parts, under the general titles of the Gospels and Apostles; and that both these were regarded as of the highest authority. One out of many expressions of Clement, alluding to this distribution, is the following: "There is a consent and harmony between the Law and the Prophets, the Apostles and the Gospel." (Lardner, Cred. vol. ii. p. 516.) VI. The same division, "Prophets, Gospels, and Apostles," appears in Tertullian, the contemporary of Clement. The collection of the Gospels is likewise called by this writer the "Evangelic Instrument;" the whole volume the "New Testament;" and the two parts, the "Gospels and Apostles." (Lardner, Cred. vol. ii. pp. 631,574 & 632.) VII. From many writers also of the third century, and especially from Cyprian, who lived in the middle of it, it is collected that the Christian Scriptures were divided into two cedes or volumes, one called the "Gospels or Scriptures of the Lord," the other the "Apostles, or Epistles of the Apostles" (Lardner, Cred. vol. iv. p. 846.) VIII. Eusebius, as we have already seen, takes some pains to show that the Gospel of Saint John had been justly placed by the ancients, "the fourth in order, and after the other three." (Lardner, Cred. vol. viii. p. 90.) These are the terms of his proposition: and the very introduction of such an argument proves incontestably, that the four Gospels had been collected into a volume, to the exclusion of every other: that their order in the volume had been adjusted with much consideration; and that this had been done by those who were called ancients in the time of Eusebius. In the Diocletian persecution, in the year 303, the Scriptures were sought out and burnt:(Lardner, Cred. vol. vii. pp. 214 et seq.) many suffered death rather than deliver them up; and those who betrayed them to the persecutors were accounted as lapsed and apostate. On the other hand, Constantine, after his conversion, gave directions for multiplying copies of the Divine Oracles, and for magnificently adorning them at the expense of the imperial treasury. (Lardner, Cred. vol. vii. p. 432.) What the Christians of that age so richly embellished in their prosperity, and, which is more, so tenaciously preserved under persecution, was the very volume of the New Testament which we now read. SECTION IV. Our present Sacred Writings were soon distinguished by appropriate names and titles of respect. Polycarp. "I trust that ye are well exercised in the Holy Scriptures;--as in these Scriptures it is said, Be ye angry and sin not, and let not the sun go down upon your wrath." (Lardner, Cred. vol. i. p. 203.) This passage is extremely important; because it proves that, in the time of Polycarp, who had lived with the apostles, there were Christian writings distinguished by the name of "Holy Scriptures," or Sacred Writings. Moreover, the text quoted by Polycarp is a text found in the collection at this day. What also the same Polycarp hath elsewhere quoted in the same manner, may be considered as proved to belong to the collection; and this comprehends Saint Matthew's and, probably, Saint Luke's Gospel, the Acts of the Apostles, ten epistles of Paul, the First Epistle of Peter, and the First of John. (Lardner, Cred. vol. i. p. 223.) In another place, Polycarp has these words: "Whoever perverts the Oracles of the Lord to his own lusts, and says there is neither resurrection nor judgment, he is the first born of Satan." (Lardner, Cred. vol. i. p. 223.)--It does not appear what else Polycarp could mean by the "Oracles of the Lord," but those same "Holy Scriptures," or Sacred Writings, of which he had spoken before. II. Justin Martyr, whose apology was written about thirty years after Polycarp's epistle, expressly cites some of our present histories under the title of Gospel, and that not as a name by him first ascribed to them, but as the name by which they were generally known in his time. His words are these:--"For the apostles in the memoirs composed by them, which are called Gospels, have thus delivered it, that Jesus commanded them to take bread, and give thanks." (Lardner, Cred. vol. i. p. 271.) There exists no doubt, but that, by the memoirs above-mentioned, Justin meant our present historical Scriptures; for throughout his works he quotes these and no others. III. Dionysius, bishop of Corinth, who came thirty years after Justin, in a passage preserved in Eusebius (for his works are lost), speaks "of the Scriptures of the Lord." (Lardner, Cred. vol. i. p. 298.) IV. And at the same time, or very nearly so, by Irenaeus, bishop of Lyons in France, (The reader will observe the remoteness of these two writers in country and situation) they are called "Divine Scriptures,"--"Divine Oracles,"--"Scriptures of the Lord,"--"Evangelic and Apostolic writings." (Lardner, Cred. vol. i. p. 343, et seq.) The quotations of Irenaeus prove decidedly, that our present Gospels, and these alone, together with the Acts of the Apostles, were the historical books comprehended by him under these appellations. V. Saint Matthew's Gospel is quoted by Theophilus, bishop of Antioch, contemporary with Irenaeus, under the title of the "Evangelic voice;" (Lardner, Cred. vol. i. p. 427.) and the copious works of Clement of Alexandria, published within fifteen years of the same time, ascribe to the books of the New Testament the various titles of "Sacred Books,"--"Divine Scriptures,"--"Divinely inspired Scriptures,"-- "Scriptures of the Lord,"--"the true Evangelical Canon." (Lardner, Cred. vol. ii. p. 515.) VI. Tertullian, who joins on with Clement, beside adopting most of the names and epithets above noticed, calls the Gospels "our Digesta," in allusion, as it should seem, to some collection of Roman laws then extant. (Lardner, Cred. vol. ii. p. 630.) VII. By Origen, who came thirty years after Tertullian, the same, and other no less strong titles, are applied to the Christian Scriptures: and, in addition thereunto, this writer frequently speaks of the "Old and New Testament,"--"the Ancient and New Scriptures,"--"the Ancient and New Oracles." (Lardner, Cred. vol. iii. p. 230.) VIII. In Cyprian, who was not twenty years later, they are "Books of the Spirit,"--"Divine Fountains,"--"Fountains of the Divine Fulness." (Lardner, Cred. vol. iv. p. 844.) The expressions we have thus quoted are evidences of high and peculiar respect. They all occur within two centuries from the publication of the books. Some of them commence with the companions of the apostles; and they increase in number and variety, through a series of writers touching upon one another, and deduced from the first age of the religion. SECTION V. Our Scriptures were publicly read and expounded in the religious assemblies of the early Christians. Justin MARTYR, who wrote in the year 140, which was seventy or eighty years after some, and less, probably, after others of the Gospels were published, giving, in his first apology an account, to the Emperor, of the Christian worship has this remarkable passage: "The Memoirs of the Apostles, or the Writings of the Prophets, are read according as the time allows: and, when the reader has ended, the president makes a discourse, exhorting to the imitation of so excellent things." (Lardner, Cred. vol. i. p. 273.) A few short observations will show the value of this testimony. 1. The "Memoirs of the Apostles," Justin in another place expressly tells us, are what are called "Gospels:" and that they were the Gospels which we now use, is made certain by Justin's numerous quotations of them, and his silence about any others. 2. Justin describes the general usage of the Christian church. 3. Justin does not speak of it as recent or newly instituted, but in the terms in which men speak of established customs. II. Tertullian, who followed Justin at the distance of about fifty years, in his account of the religious assemblies of Christians as they were conducted in his time, says, "We come together to recollect the Divine Scriptures; we nourish our faith, raise our hope, confirm our trust, by the Sacred Word." (Lardner, Cred. vol. ii. p. 628.) III. Eusebius records of Origen, and cites for his authority the letters of bishops contemporary with Origen, that when he went into Palestine about the year 216, which was only sixteen years after the date of Tertullian's testimony, he was desired by the bishops of that country to discourse and expound the Scriptures publicly in the church, though he was not yet ordained a presbyter. (Lardner, Cred. vol. iii. p. 68.) This anecdote recognises the usage, not only of reading, but of expounding the Scriptures; and both as subsisting in full force. Origen also himself bears witness to the same practice: "This," says he, "we do, when the Scriptures are read in the church, and when the discourse for explication is delivered to the people." (Lardner, Cred. vol. iii. p. 302.) And what is a still more ample testimony, many homilies of his upon the Scriptures of the New Testament, delivered by him in the assemblies of the church, are still extant. IV. Cyprian, whose age was not twenty years lower than that of Origen, gives his people an account of having ordained two persons, who were before confessors, to be readers; and what they were to read appears by the reason which he gives for his choice; "Nothing," says Cyprian, "can be more fit than that he who has made a glorious confession of the Lord should read publicly in the church; that he who has shown himself willing to die a martyr should read the Gospel of Christ by which martyrs are made." (Lardner, Cred. vol. iv. p. 842.) V. Intimations of the same custom may be traced in a great number of writers in the beginning and throughout the whole of the fourth century. Of these testimonies I will only use one, as being, of itself, express and full. Augustine, who appeared near the conclusion of the century, displays the benefit of the Christian religion on this very account, the public reading of the Scriptures in the churches, "where," says he, "is a consequence of all sorts of people of both sexes; and where they hear how they ought to live well in this world, that they may deserve to live happily and eternally in another." And this custom he declares to be universal: "The canonical books of Scripture being read every where, the miracles therein recorded are well known to all people." (Lardner, Cred. vol. x. p. 276, et seq.) It does not appear that any books, other than our present Scriptures were thus publicly read, except that the epistle of Clement was read in the church of Corinth, to which it had been addressed, and in some others; and that the Shepherd of Hennas was read in many churches. Nor does it subtract much from the value of the argument, that these two writings partly come within it, because we allow them to be the genuine writings of apostolical men. There is not the least evidence, that any other Gospel than the four which we receive was ever admitted to this distinction. SECTION VI. Commentaries were anciently written upon the Scriptures; harmonies formed out of them; different copies carefully collated; and versions made of them into different languages. No greater proof can be given of the esteem in which these books were holden by the ancient Christians, or of the sense then entertained of their value and importance, than the industry bestowed upon them. And it ought to be observed that the value and importance of these books consisted entirely in their genuineness and truth. There was nothing in them, as works of taste or as compositions, which could have induced any one to have written a note upon them. Moreover, it shows that they were even then considered as ancient books. Men do not write comments upon publications of their own times: therefore the testimonies cited under this head afford an evidence which carries up the evangelic writings much beyond the age of the testimonies themselves, and to that of their reputed authors. I. Tatian, a follower of Justin Martyr, and who flourished about the year 170, composed a harmony, or collation of the Gospels, which he called Diatessaron, of the four. The title, as well as the work, is remarkable; because it shows that then, as now, there were four, and only four, Gospels in general use with Christians. And this was little more than a hundred years after the publication of some of them. (Lardner, Cred. vol. i. p. 307.) II. Pantaenus, of the Alexandrian school, a man of great reputation and learning, who came twenty years after Tatian, wrote many commentaries upon the Holy Scriptures, which, as Jerome testifies, were extant in his time. (Lardner, Cred. vol. i. p. 455.) III. Clement of Alexandria wrote short explications of many books of the Old and New Testament. (Lardner, Cred. vol. ii. p. 462.) IV. Tertullian appeals from the authority of a later version, then in use, to the authentic Greek. (Lardner, Cred. vol. ii. p. 638.) V. An anonymous author, quoted by Eusebius, and who appears to have written about the year 212, appeals to the ancient copies of the Scriptures, in refutation of some corrupt readings alleged by the followers of Artemon. (Lardner, Cred. vol. iii. p. 46.) VI. The same Eusebius, mentioning by name several writers of the church who lived at this time, and concerning whom he says, "There still remain divers monuments of the laudable industry of those ancient and ecclesiastical men," (i. e. of Christian writers who were considered as ancient in the year 300,) adds, "There are, besides, treatises of many others, whose names we have not been able to learn, orthodox and ecclesiastical men, as the interpretations of the Divine Scriptures given by each of them show." (Lardner, Cred. vol. ii. p. 551.) VII. The last five testimonies may be referred to the year 200; immediately after which, a period of thirty years gives us Julius Africanus, who wrote an epistle upon the apparent difference in the genealogies in Matthew and Luke, which he endeavours to reconcile by the distinction of natural and legal descent, and conducts his hypothesis with great industry through the whole series of generations. (Lardner, Cred. vol. iii. p. 170.) Ammonius, a learned Alexandrian, who composed, as Tatian had done, a harmony of the four Gospels, which proves, as Tatian's work did, that there were four Gospels, and no more, at this time in use in the church. It affords also on instance of the zeal of Christians for those writings, and of their solicitude about them. (Lardner, Cred. vol. iii. p. 122.) And, above both these, Origen, who wrote commentaries, or homilies, upon most of the books included in the New Testament, and upon no other books but these. In particular, he wrote upon Saint John's Gospel, very largely upon Saint Matthew's, and commentaries, or homilies, upon the Acts of the Apostles. (Lardner, Cred. vol. iii. pp. 352, 192, 202 & 245.) VIII. In addition to these, the third century likewise contains--Dionysius of Alexandria, a very learned man, who compared, with great accuracy, the accounts in the four Gospels of the time of Christ's resurrection, adding a reflection which showed his opinion of their authority: "Let us not think that the evangelists disagree or contradict each other, although there be some small difference; but let us honestly and faithfully endeavour to reconcile what we read." (Lardner, Cred. vol. iv. p. 166.) Victorin, bishop of Pettaw, in Germany, who wrote comments upon Saint Matthew's Gospel. (Lardner, Cred. vol. iv. p. 195.) Lucian, a presbyter of Antioch; and Hesychius, an Egyptian bishop, who put forth editions of the New Testament. IX. The fourth century supplies a catalogue* of fourteen writers, who expended their labours upon the books of the New Testament, and whose works or names are come down to our times; amongst which number it may be sufficient, for the purpose of showing the sentiments and studies of learned Christians of that age, to notice the following: _________ * Eusebius ...... A.D. 315 Juvencus, Spain ..... 330 Theodore, Thrace .... 334 Hilary, Poletiers .... 340 Fortunatus ..... 354 Apollinarius of Loadicea 362 Damasus, Rome ..... 366 Gregory, Nyssen .... 371 Didimus of Alex, . . . . 370 Ambrose of Milan ..... 374 Diodore of Tarsus ..... 378 Gaudent of Brescia .... 387 Theodore of Cilicia .... 395 Jerome ........ 392 Chrysostom ...... 398 _________ Eusebius, in the very beginning of the century, wrote expressly upon the discrepancies observable in the Gospels, and likewise a treatise, in which he pointed out what things are related by four, what by three, what by two, and what by one evangelist. (Lardner, Cred. vol. viii. p. 46.) This author also testifies what is certainly a material piece of evidence, "that the writings of the apostles had obtained such an esteem as to be translated into every language both of Greeks and Barbarians, and to be diligently studied by all nations." (Lardner, Cred. vol. viii. p. 201.) This testimony was given about the year 300; how long before that date these translations were made does not appear. Damasus, bishop of Rome, corresponded with Saint Jerome upon the exposition of difficult texts of Scripture; and, in a letter still remaining, desires Jerome to give him a clear explanation of the word Hosanna, found in the New Testament; "He (Damasus) having met with very different interpretations of it in the Greek and Latin commentaries of Catholic writers which he had read." (Lardner, Cred. vol. ix. P. 108) This last clause shows the number and variety of commentaries then extant. Gregory of Nyssen, at one time, appeals to the most exact copies of Saint Mark's Gospel; at another time, compares together, and proposes to reconcile, the several accounts of the Resurrection given by the four Evangelists; which limitation proves that there were no other histories of Christ deemed authentic beside these, or included in the same character with these. This writer observes, acutely enough, that "the disposition of the clothes in the sepulchre, the napkin that was about our Saviour's head, not lying with the linen clothes, but wrapped together in a place by itself, did not bespeak the terror and hurry of thieves, and therefore refutes the story of the body being stolen." (Lardner, Cred. vol. ix. p. 163.) Ambrose, bishop of Milan, remarked various readings in the Latin copies of the New Testament, and appeals to the original Greek; And Jerome, towards the conclusion of this century, put forth an edition of the New Testament in Latin, corrected, at least as to the Gospels, by Greek copies, and "those (he says) ancient." Lastly, Chrysostom, it is well known, delivered and published a great many homilies, or sermons, upon the Gospels and the Acts of the Apostles. It is needless to bring down this article lower, but it is of importance to add, that there is no example of Christian writers of the first three centuries composing comments upon any other books than those which are found in the New Testament, except the single one of Clement of Alexandria commenting upon a book called the Revelation of Peter. Of the ancient versions of the New Testament, one of the most valuable is the Syriac. Syriac was the language of Palestine when Christianity was there first established. And although the books of Scripture were written in Greek, for the purpose of a more extended circulation than within the precincts of Judea, yet it is probable that they would soon be translated into the vulgar language of the country where the religion first prevailed. Accordingly, a Syriac translation is now extant, all along, so far as it appears, used by the inhabitants of Syria, bearing many internal marks of high antiquity, supported in its pretensions by the uniform tradition of the East, and confirmed by the discovery of many very ancient manuscripts in the libraries of Europe, It is about 200 years since a bishop of Antioch sent a copy of this translation into Europe to be printed; and this seems to be the first time that the translation became generally known to these parts of the world. The bishop of Antioch's Testament was found to contain all our books, except the second epistle of Peter, the second and third of John, and the Revelation; which books, however, have since been discovered in that language in some ancient manuscripts of Europe. But in this collection, no other book, besides what is in ours, appears ever to have had a place. And, which is very worthy of observation, the text, though preserved in a remote country, and without communication with ours, differs from ours very little, and in nothing that is important (Jones on the Canon, vol. i. e. 14.). SECTION VII. Our Scriptures were received by ancient Christians of different sects and persuasions, but many Heretics as well as Catholics, and were usually appealed to by both sides in the controversies which arose in those days. The three most ancient topics of controversy amongst Christians were, the authority of the Jewish constitution, the origin of evil, and the nature of Christ. Upon the first of these we find, in very early times, one class of heretics rejecting the Old Testament entirely; another contending for the obligation of its law, in all its parts, throughout its whole extent, and over every one who sought acceptance with God. Upon the two latter subjects, a natural, perhaps, and venial, but a fruitless, eager, and impatient curiosity, prompted by the philosophy and by the scholastic habits of the age, which carried men much into bold hypotheses and conjectural solutions, raised, amongst some who professed Christianity, very wild and unfounded opinions. I think there is no reason to believe that the number of these bore any considerable proportion to the body of the Christian church; and, amidst the disputes which such opinions necessarily occasioned, it is a great satisfaction to perceive what, in a vast plurality of instances, we do perceive, all sides recurring to the same Scriptures. *I. Basilides lived near the age of the apostles, about the year 120, or, perhaps, sooner. (Lardner, vol. ix. p. 271.) He rejected the Jewish institution, not as spurious, but as proceeding from a being inferior to the true God; and in other respects advanced a scheme of theology widely different from the general doctrine of the Christian church, and which, as it gained over some disciples, was warmly opposed by Christian writers of the second and third century. In these writings there is positive evidence that Basilides received the Gospel of Matthew; and there is no sufficient proof that he rejected any of the other three: on the contrary, it appears that he wrote a commentary upon the Gospel, so copious as to be divided into twenty-four books. (Lardner, vol. ix. ed. 1788, p. 305, 306.) _________ * The materials of the former part of this section are taken from Dr. Lardner's History of the Heretics of the first two centuries, published since his death, with additions, by the Rev. Mr. Hogg, of Exeter, and inserted into the ninth volume of his works, of the edition of 1778. _________ II. The Valentinians appeared about the same time. Their heresy consisted in certain notions concerning angelic natures, which can hardly be rendered intelligible to a modern reader. They seem, however, to have acquired as much importance as any of the separatists of that early age. Of this sect, Irenaeus, who wrote A.D. 172, expressly records that they endeavoured to fetch arguments for their opinions from the evangelic and apostolic writings. Heracleon, one of the most celebrated of the sect, and who lived probably so early as the year 125, wrote commentaries upon Luke and John. Some observations also of his upon Matthew are preserved by Origen. Nor is there any reason to doubt that he received the whole New Testament. (Lardner, vol. ix. ed. 1788, pp. 350-351; vol. i. p. 383; vol. ix. ed. 1788, p. 352-353.) III. The Carpocratians were also an early heresy, little, if at all, later than the two preceding. Some of their opinions resembled what we at this day mean by Socinianism. With respect to the Scriptures, they are specifically charged, by Irenaeus and by Epiphanius, with endeavouring to pervert a passage in Matthew, which amounts to a positive proof that they received that Gospel. Negatively, they are not accused, by their adversaries, of rejecting any part of the New Testament. (Lardner, vol. ix. ed. 1788, pp. 309 & 318.) IV. The Sethians, A.D. 150; the Montanists, A.D. 156; the Marcosigns, A.D. 160; Hermogenes, A.D. 180; Praxias, A.D. 196; Artemon, A.D. 200; Theodotus, A.D. 200; all included under the denomination of heretics, and all engaged in controversies with Catholic Christians, received the Scriptures of the New Testament. (Lardner, vol. ix. ed. 1788, pp. 455, 482, 348, 473, 433, 466.) V. Tatian, who lived in the year 172, went into many extravagant opinions, was the founder of a sect called Encratites, and was deeply involved in disputes with the Christians of that age; yet Tatian so received the four Gospels as to compose a harmony from them. VI. From a writer quoted by Eusebius, of about the year 200, it is apparent that they who at that time contended for the mere humanity of Christ, argued from the Scriptures; for they are accused by this writer of making alterations in their copies in order to favour their opinions. (Lardner, vol. iii. P. 46.) VII. Origen's sentiments excited great controversies,--the bishops of Rome and Alexandria, and many others, condemning, the bishops of the east espousing them; yet there is not the smallest question but that both the advocates and adversaries of these opinions acknowledged the same authority of Scripture. In his time, which the reader will remember was about one hundred and fifty years after the Scriptures were published, many dissensions subsisted amongst Christians, with which they were reproached by Celsus; yet Origen, who has recorded this accusation without contradicting it, nevertheless testifies, that the four Gospels were received without dispute, by the whole church of God under heaven. (Lardner, vol. iv. ed. 1788, p. 642.) VIII. Paul of Samosata, about thirty years after Origen, so distinguished himself in the controversy concerning the nature of Christ as to be the subject of two councils or synods, assembled at Antioch, upon his opinions. Yet he is not charged by his adversaries with rejecting any book of the New Testament. On the contrary, Epiphanius, who wrote a history of heretics a hundred years afterwards, says, that Paul endeavoured to support his doctrine by texts of Scripture. And Vincentius Lirinensis, A.D. 434, speaking of Paul and other heretics of the same age, has these words: "Here, perhaps, some one may ask whether heretics also urge the testimony of Scripture. They urge it, indeed, explicitly and vehemently; for you may see them flying through every book of the sacred law." (Lardner, vol. ix. p. 158.) IX. A controversy at the same time existed with the Noetians or Sabellians, who seem to have gone into the opposite extreme from that of Paul of Samosata and his followers. Yet according to the express testimony of Epiphanius, Sabellius received all the Scriptures. And with both sects Catholic writers constantly allege the Scriptures, and reply to the arguments which their opponents drew from particular texts. We have here, therefore, a proof, that parties who were the most opposite and irreconcilable to one another acknowledged the authority of Scripture with equal deference. X. And as a general testimony to the same point, may be produced what was said by one of the bishops of the council of Carthage, which was holden a little before this time:--"I am of opinion that blasphemous and wicked heretics, who pervert the sacred and adorable words of the Scripture, should be execrated." Undoubtedly, what they perverted they received. (Lardner, vol. ix. p. 839.) XI. The Millennium, Novatianism, the baptism of heretics, the keeping of Easter, engaged also the attention and divided the opinions of Christians, at and before that time (and, by the way, it may be observed, that such disputes, though on some accounts to be blamed, showed how much men were in earnest upon the subject.); yet every one appealed for the grounds of his opinion to Scripture authority. Dionysius of Alexandria, who flourished A.D. 247, describing a conference or public disputation, with the Millennarians of Egypt, confesses of them, though their adversary, "that they embrace whatever could be made out by good arguments, from the Holy Scriptures." (Lardner, vol. iv. p. 666.) Novatus, A.D. 251, distinguished by some rigid sentiments concerning the reception of those who had lapsed, and the founder of a numerous sect, in his few remaining works quotes the Gospel with the same respect as other Christians did; and concerning his followers, the testimony of Socrates, who wrote about the year 440, is positive, viz. "That in the disputes between the Catholics and them, each side endeavoured to support itself by the authority of the Divine Scriptures" (Lardner, vol. v. p. 105.) XII. The Donatists, who sprung up in the year 328, used the same Scriptures as we do. "Produce," saith Augustine, "some proof from the Scriptures, whose authority is common to us both" (Lardner, vol. vii. p. 243.) XIII. It is perfectly notorious, that in the Arian controversy, which arose soon after the year 300, both sides appealed to the same Scriptures, and with equal professions of deference and regard. The Arians, in their council of Antioch, A.D. 341, pronounce that "if any one, contrary to the sound doctrine of the Scriptures, say, that the Son is a creature, as one of the creatures, let him be an anathema." (Lardner, vol. vii. p. 277.) They and the Athanasians mutually accuse each other of using unscriptural phrases; which was a mutual acknowledgment of the conclusive authority of Scripture. XIV. The Priscillianists, A.D. 378, the Pelagians, A.D. 405 received the same Scriptures as we do. (Lardner, vol. ix. p. 325; vol. xi p. 52.) XV. The testimony of Chrysostom, who lived near the year 400, is so positive in affirmation of the proposition which we maintain, that it may form a proper conclusion of the argument. "The general reception of the Gospels is a proof that their history is true and consistent; for, since the writing of the Gospels, many heresies have arisen, holding opinions contrary to what is contained in them, who yet receive the Gospels either entire or in part." (Lardner, vol. x. p. 316.) I am not moved by what may seem a deduction from Chrysostom's testimony, the words, "entire or in part;" for if all the parts which were ever questioned in our Gospels were given up, it would not affect the miraculous origin of the religion in the smallest degree: e.g. Cerinthus is said by Epiphanius to have received the Gospel of Matthew, but not entire. What the omissions were does not appear. The common opinion, that he rejected the first two chapters, seems to have been a mistake. (Lardner, vol. ix. ed. 1788, p. 322.) It is agreed, however, by all who have given any account of Cerinthus, that he taught that the Holy Ghost (whether he meant by that name a person or a power) descended upon Jesus at his baptism; that Jesus from this time performed many miracles, and that he appeared after his death. He must have retained therefore the essential parts of the history. Of all the ancient heretics, the most extraordinary was Marcion. (Lardner, vol. ix. sect. ii. c. x. Also Michael vol. i. c. i. sect. xviii.) One of his tenets was the rejection of the Old Testament, as proceeding from an inferior and imperfect Deity; and in pursuance of this hypothesis, he erased from the New, and that, as it should seem, without entering into any critical reasons, every passage which recognised the Jewish Scriptures. He spared not a text which contradicted his opinion. It is reasonable to believe that Marcion treated books as he treated texts: yet this rash and wild controversialist published a recension, or chastised edition of Saint Luke's Gospel, containing the leading facts, and all which is necessary to authenticate the religion. This example affords proof that there were always some points, and those the main points, which neither wildness nor rashness, neither the fury of opposition nor the intemperance of controversy, would venture to call in question. There is no reason to believe that Marcion, though full of resentment against the Catholic Christians, ever charged them with forging their books. "The Gospel of Saint Matthew, the Epistle to the Hebrews, with those of Saint Peter and Saint James, as well as the Old Testament in general" he said, "were writings not for Christians but for Jews." This declaration shows the ground upon which Marcion proceeded in his mutilation of the Scriptures, viz., his dislike of the passages or the books. Marcion flourished about the year 130.* _________ * I have transcribed this sentence from Michaelis (p. 38), who has not, however, referred to the authority upon which he attributes these words to Marcion. _________ Dr. Lardner, in his General Review, sums up this head of evidence in the following words:--"Noitus, Paul of Samosata, Sabellius, Marcelins, Photinus, the Novatiana, Donatists, Manicheans (This must be with an exception, however, of Faustus, who lived so late us the year 354), Priscillianists, beside Artemon, the Audians, the Arians, and divers others, all received most of all the same books of the New Testament which the Catholics received; and agreed in a like respect for them as written by apostles, or their disciples and companions." (Lardner, vol. iii. p. 12.--Dr. Lardner's future inquiries supplied him with many other instances.) SECTION VIII. The four Gospels, the Acts of the Apostles, thirteen Epistles of Saint Paul the First Epistle of John, and the First of Peter, were received without doubt by those who doubted concerning the other books which are included in our present Canon. I state this proposition, because, if made out, it shows that the authenticity of their books was a subject amongst the early Christians of consideration and inquiry; and that, where there was cause of doubt, they did doubt; a circumstance which strengthens very much their testimony to such books as were received by them with full acquiescence. I. Jerome, in his account of Caius, who was probably a presbyter of Rome, and who flourished near the year 200, records of him, that, reckoning up only thirteen epistles of Paul, he says the fourteenth, which is inscribed to the Hebrews, is not his: and then Jerome adds, "With the Romans to this day it is not looked upon as Paul's." This agrees in the main with the account given by Eusebius of the same ancient author and his work; except that Eusebius delivers his own remark in more guarded terms: "And indeed to this very time, by some of the Romans, this epistle is not thought to be the apostle's." (Lardner, vol. iii. p. 240.) II. Origen, about twenty years after Caius, quoting the Epistle to the Hebrews, observes that some might dispute the authority of that epistle; and therefore proceeds to quote to the same point, as undoubted books of Scripture, the Gospel of Saint Matthew, the Acts of the Apostles, and Paul's First Epistle to the Thessalonians. (Lardner, vol. iii. p. 246.) and in another place, this author speaks of the Epistle to the Hebrews thus: "The account come down to us is various; some saying that Clement who was bishop of Rome, wrote this epistle; others, that it was Luke, the same who wrote the Gospel and the Acts." Speaking also, in the same paragraph, of Peter, "Peter," says he, "has left one epistle, acknowledged; let it be granted likewise that he wrote a second, for it is doubted of." And of John, "He has also left one epistle, of a very few lines; grant also a second and a third, for all do not allow them to be genuine." Now let it be noted, that Origen, who thus discriminates, and thus confesses his own doubts and the doubts which subsisted in his time, expressly witnesses concerning the four Gospels, "that they alone are received without dispute by the whole church of God under heaven." (Lardner, vol. iii. p. 234.) III. Dionysius of Alexandria, in the year 247, doubts concerning the Book of Revelation, whether it was written by Saint John; states the grounds of his doubt, represents the diversity of opinion concerning it, in his own time, and before his time. (Lardner, vol. iv. p. 670.) Yet the same Dionysius uses and collates the four Gospels in a manner which shows that he entertained not the smallest suspicion of their authority, and in a manner also which shows that they, and they alone, were received as authentic histories of Christ. (Lardner, vol. iv. p. 661.) IV. But this section may be said to have been framed on purpose to introduce to the reader two remarkable passages extant in Eusebius's Ecclesiastical History. The first passage opens with these words:--"Let us observe the writings of the apostle John which are uncontradicted: and first of all must be mentioned, as acknowledged of all, the Gospel according to him, well known to all the churches under heaven." The author then proceeds to relate the occasions of writing the Gospels, and the reasons for placing Saint John's the last, manifestly speaking of all the four as parallel in their authority, and in the certainty of their original. (Lardner, vol. viii. p. 90.) The second passage is taken from a chapter, the title of which is, "Of the Scriptures universally acknowledged, and of those that are not such." Eusebius begins his enumeration in the following manner:--"In the first place are to be ranked the sacred four Gospels; then the book of the Acts of the Apostles; after that are to be reckoned the Epistles of Paul. In the next place, that called the First Epistle of John, and the Epistle of Peter, are to be esteemed authentic. After this is to be placed, if it be thought fit, the Revelation of John, about which we shall observe the different opinions at proper seasons. Of the controverted, but yet well known or approved by the most, are, that called the Epistle of James, and that of Jude, and the Second of Peter, and the Second and Third of John, whether they are written by the evangelist, or another of the same name." (Lardner, vol. viii. p. 39.) He then proceeds to reckon up five others, not in our canon, which he calls in one place spurious, in another controverted, meaning, as appears to me, nearly the same thing by these two words.* _________ * That Eusebius could not intend, by the word rendered 'spurious' what we at present mean by it, is evident from a clause in this very chapter where, speaking of the Gospels of Peter, and Thomas and Matthias, and some others, he says, "They the are not so much as to be reckoned among the spurious, but are altogether absurd and impious." (Lardner, vol. viii. p. 99.) _________ It is manifest from this passage, that the four Gospels, and the Acts of the Apostles (the parts of Scripture with which our concern principally lies), were acknowledged without dispute, even by those who raised objections, or entertained doubts, about some other parts of the same collection. But the passage proves something more than this. The author was extremely conversant in the writings of Christians which had been published from the commencement of the institution to his own time: and it was from these writings that he drew his knowledge of the character and reception of the books in question. That Eusebius recurred to this medium of information, and that he had examined with attention this species of proof, is shown, first, by a passage in the very chapter we are quoting, in which, speaking of the books which he calls spurious, "None," he says, "of the ecclesiastical writers, in the succession of the apostles, have vouchsafed to make any mention of them in their writings;" and, secondly, by another passage of the same work, wherein, speaking of the First Epistle of Peter, "This," he says, "the presbyters of ancient times have quoted in their writings as undoubtedly genuine;" (Lardner, vol. viii. p. 99.) and then, speaking of some other writings bearing the name of Peter, "We know," he says, "that they have not been delivered down to us in the number of Catholic writings, forasmuch as no ecclesiastical writer of the ancients, or of our times, has made use of testimonies out of them." "But in the progress of this history," the author proceeds, "we shall make it our business to show, together with the successions from the apostles, what ecclesiastical writers, in every age, have used such writings as these which are contradicted, and what they have said with regard to the Scriptures received in the New Testament, and acknowledged by all, and with regard to those which are not such." (Lardner, vol. viii. p. 111) After this it is reasonable to believe that when Eusebius states the four Gospels, and the Acts of the Apostles, as uncontradicted, uncontested, and acknowledged by all; and when he places them in opposition, not only to those which were spurious, in our sense of that term, but to those which were controverted, and even to those which were well known and approved by many, yet doubted of by some; he represents not only the sense of his own age, but the result of the evidence which the writings of prior ages, from the apostles' time to his own, had furnished to his inquiries. The opinion of Eusebius and his contemporaries appears to have been founded upon the testimony of writers whom they then called ancient: and we may observe, that such of the works of these writers as have come down to our times entirely confirm the judgment, and support the distinction which Eusebius proposes. The books which he calls "books universally acknowledged" are in fact used and quoted in time remaining works of Christian writers, during the 250 years between the apostles' time and that of Eusebius, much more frequently than, and in a different manner from, those the authority of which, he tells us, was disputed. SECTION IX. Our historical Scriptures were attacked by the early adversaries of Christianity, as containing the accounts upon which the Religion was founded. Near the middle of the second century, Celsus, a heathen philosopher, wrote a professed treatise against Christianity. To this treatise Origen, who came about fifty years after him, published an answer, in which he frequently recites his adversary's words and arguments. The work of Celsus is lost; but that of Origen remains. Origen appears to have given us the words of Celsus, where he professes to give them, very faithfully; and amongst other reasons for thinking so, this is one, that the objection, as stated by him from Celsus, is sometimes stronger than his own answer. I think it also probable that Origen, in his answer, has retailed a large portion of the work of Celsus: "That it may not be suspected," he says, "that we pass by any chapters because we have no answers at hand, I have thought it best, according to my ability, to confute everything proposed by him, not so much observing the natural order of things, as the order which he has taken himself." (Orig. cont. Cels. I. i. sect. 41.) Celsus wrote about one hundred years after the Gospels were published; and therefore any notices of these books from him are extremely important for their antiquity. They are, however, rendered more so by the character of the author; for the reception, credit, and notoriety of these books must have been well established amongst Christians, to have made them subjects of animadversion and opposition by strangers and by enemies. It evinces the truth of what Chrysostom, two centuries afterwards, observed, that "the Gospels, when written, were not hidden in a corner or buried in obscurity, but they were made known to all the world, before enemies as well as others, even as they are now." (In Matt. Hom. I. 7.) 1. Celsus, or the Jew whom he personates, uses these words:--"I could say many things concerning the affairs of Jesus, and those, too, different from those written by the disciples of Jesus; but I purposely omit them." (Lardner, Jewish and Heathen Test. vol. ii. p. 274.) Upon this passage it has been rightly observed, that it is not easy to believe, that if Celsus could have contradicted the disciples upon good evidence in any material point, he would have omitted to do so, and that the assertion is, what Origen calls it, a mere oratorical flourish. It is sufficient, however, to prove that, in the time of Celsus, there were books well known, and allowed to be written by the disciples of Jesus, which books contained a history of him. By the term disciples, Celsus does not mean the followers of Jesus in general; for them he calls Christians, or believers, or the like; but those who had been taught by Jesus himself, i.e. his apostles and companions. 2. In another passage, Celsus accuses the Christians of altering the Gospel. (Lardner, Jewish and Heathen Test. Vol. ii. p. 275.) The accusation refers to some variations in the readings of particular passages: for Celsus goes on to object, that when they are pressed hard, and one reading has been confuted, they disown that, and fly to another. We cannot perceive from Origen, that Celsus specified any particular instances, and without such specification the charge is of no value. But the true conclusion to be drawn from it is, that there were in the hands of the Christians histories which were even then of some standing: for various readings and corruptions do not take place in recent productions. The former quotation, the reader will remember, proves that these books were composed by the disciples of Jesus, strictly so called; the present quotation shows, that though objections were taken by the adversaries of the religion to the integrity of these books, none were made to their genuineness. 3. In a third passage, the Jew whom Celsus introduces shuts up an argument in this manner:--"these things then we have alleged to you out of your own writings, not needing any other weapons." (Lardner, vol. ii. p. 276.) It is manifest that this boast proceeds upon the supposition that the books over which the writer affects to triumph possessed an authority by which Christians confessed themselves to be bound. 4. That the books to which Celsus refers were no other than our present Gospels, is made out by his allusions to various passages still found in these Gospels. Celsus takes notice of the genealogies, which fixes two of these Gospels; of the precepts, Resist not him that injures you, and if a man strike thee on the one cheek, offer to him the other also; of the woes denounced by Christ; of his predictions; of his saying, That it is impossible to serve two masters; ( Lardner, vol. ii. pp. 276-277.) Of the purple robe, the crown of thorns, and the reed in his hand; of the blood that flowed from the body of Jesus upon the cross, which circumstance is recorded by John alone; and (what is instar omnium for the purpose for which we produce it) of the difference in the accounts given of the resurrection by the evangelists, some mentioning two angels at the sepulchre, ethers only one. (Lardner, vol. ii. pp. 280, 281, & 283.) It is extremely material to remark, that Celsus not only perpetually referred to the accounts of Christ contained in the four Gospels, but that he referred to no other accounts; that he founded none of his objections to Christianity upon any thing delivered in spurious Gospels. (The particulars, of which the above are only a few, are well collected by Mr. Bryant, p. 140.) II. What Celsus was in the second century, Porphyry became in the third. His work, which was a large and formal treatise against the Christian religion, is not extant. We must be content, therefore, to gather his objections from Christian writers, who have noticed in order to answer them; and enough remains of this species of information to prove completely, that Porphyry's animadversions were directed against the contents of our present Gospels, and of the Acts of the Apostles; Porphyry considering that to overthrow them was to overthrow the religion. Thus he objects to the repetition of a generation in Saint Matthew's genealogy; to Matthew's call; to the quotation of a text from Isaiah, which is found in a psalm ascribed to Asaph; to the calling of the lake of Tiberius a sea; to the expression of Saint Matthew, "the abomination of desolation;" to the variation in Matthew and Mark upon the text, "the voice of one crying in the wilderness," Matthew citing it from Isaias, Mark from the Prophets; to John's application of the term "Word;" to Christ's change of intention about going up to the feast of Tabernacles (John vii. 8); to the judgment denounced by Saint Peter upon Ananias and Sapphira, which he calls an "imprecation of death." (Jewish and Heathen Test. Vol. iii. p. 166, et seq.) The instances here alleged serve, in some measure, to show the nature of Porphyry's objections, and prove that Porphyry had read the Gospels with that sort of attention which a writer would employ who regarded them as the depositaries of the religion which he attacked. Besides these specifications, there exists, in the writings of ancient Christians, general evidence that the places of Scripture upon which Porphyry had remarked were very numerous. In some of the above-cited examples, Porphyry, speaking of Saint Matthew, calls him your Evangelist; he also uses the term evangelists in the plural number. What was said of Celsus is true likewise of Porphyry, that it does not appear that he considered any history of Christ except these as having authority with Christians. III. A third great writer against the Christian religion was the emperor Julian, whose work was composed about a century after that of Porphyry. In various long extracts, transcribed from this work by Cyril and Jerome, it appears, (Jewish and Heathen Test. vol. iv. p. 77, et seq.) that Julian noticed by name Matthew and Luke, in the difference between their genealogies of Christ that he objected to Matthew's application of the prophecy, "Out of Egypt have I called my son" (ii. 15), and to that of "A virgin shall conceive" (i. 23); that he recited sayings of Christ, and various passages of his history, in the very words of the evangelists; in particular, that Jesus healed lame and blind people, and exorcised demoniacs in the villages of Bethsaida and Bethany; that he alleged that none of Christ's disciples ascribed to him the creation of the world, except John; that neither Paul, nor Matthew, nor Luke, nor Mark, have dared to call Jesus God; that John wrote later than the other evangelists, and at a time when a great number of men in the cities of Greece and Italy were converted; that he alludes to the conversion of Cornelius and of Sergius Paulus, to Peter's vision, to the circular letter sent by the apostles and elders at Jerusalem, which are all recorded in the Acts of the Apostles: by which quoting of the four Gospels and the Acts of the Apostles, and by quoting no other, Julian shows that these were the historical books, and the only historical books, received by Christians as of authority, and as the authentic memoirs of Jesus Christ, of his apostles, and of the doctrines taught by them. But Julian's testimony does something more than represent the judgment of the Christian church in his time. It discovers also his own. He himself expressly states the early date of these records; he calls them by the names which they now bear. He all along supposes, he nowhere attempts to question, their genuineness. The argument in favour of the books of the New Testament, drawn from the notice taken of their contents by the early writers against the religion, is very considerable. It proves that the accounts which Christians had then were the accounts which we have now; that our present Scriptures were theirs. It proves, moreover, that neither Celsus in the second, Porphyry in the third, nor Julian in the fourth century, suspected the authenticity of these books, or ever insinuated that Christians were mistaken in the authors to whom they ascribed them. Not one of them expressed an opinion upon this subject different from that which was holden by Christians. And when we consider how much it would have availed them to have cast a doubt upon this point, if they could; and how ready they showed themselves to be to take every advantage in their power; and that they were all men of learning and inquiry: their concession, or rather their suffrage, upon the subject is extremely valuable. In the case of Porphyry, it is made still stronger, by the consideration that he did in fact support himself by this species of objection when he saw any room for it, or when his acuteness could supply any pretence for alleging it. The prophecy of Daniel he attacked upon this very ground of spuriousness, insisting that it was written after the time of Antiochus Epiphanes, and maintains his charge of forgery by some far-fetched indeed, but very subtle criticisms. Concerning the writings of the New Testament, no trace of this suspicion is anywhere to be found in him. (Michaelis's Introduction to the New Testament, vol. i. p. 43. Marsh's Translation.) SECTION X. Formal catalogues of authentic Scriptures were published, in all which our present sacred histories were included. This species of evidence comes later than the rest; as it was not natural that catalogues of any particular class of books should be put forth until Christian writings became numerous; or until some writings showed themselves, claiming titles which did not belong to them, and thereby rendering it necessary to separate books of authority from others. But, when it does appear, it is extremely satisfactory; the catalogues, though numerous, and made in countries at a wide distance from one another, differing very little, differing in nothing which is material, and all containing the four Gospels. To this last article there is no exception. I. In the writings of Origen which remain, and in some extracts preserved by Eusebius, from works of his which are now lost, there are enumerations of the books of Scriptures, in which the Four Gospels and the Acts of the Apostles are distinctly and honourably specified, and in which no books appear beside what are now received. The reader, by this time, will easily recollect that the date of Origen's works is A.D. 230. (Lardner, Cred. vol. iii. p. 234, et seq.; vol. viii. p. 196.) II. Athanasias, about a century afterwards, delivered a catalogue of the books of the New Testament in form, containing our Scriptures and no others; of which he says, "In these alone the doctrine of Religion is taught; let no man add to them, or take anything from them." (Lardner, Cred. vol. ii. p. 223.) III. About twenty years after Athanasius, Cyril, bishop of Jerusalem, set forth a catalogue of the books of Scripture, publicly read at that time in the church of Jerusalem, exactly the same as ours, except that the "Revelation" is omitted. (Lardner, Cred. vol. ii. p. 270.) IV. And fifteen years after Cyril, the council of Laodicea delivered an authoritative catalogue of canonical Scripture, like Cyril's, the same as ours with the omission of the "Revelation." V. Catalogues now became frequent. Within thirty years after the last date, that is, from the year 363 to near the conclusion of the fourth century, we have catalogues by Epiphanius, (Lardner, Cred. vol. ii. p. 368.) by Gregory Nazianzen, by Philaster, bishop of Breseia in Italy, (Lardner, Cred. vol. ix. p. 132 & 373.) by Amphilochius, bishop of Iconium; all, as they are sometimes called, clean catalogues (that is, they admit no books into the number beside what we now receive); and all, for every purpose of historic evidence, the same as ours. (Epiphanius omits the Acts of the Apostles. This must have been an accidental mistake, either in him or in some copyist of his work; for he elsewhere expressly refers to this book, and ascribes it to Luke.) VI. Within the same period Jerome, the most learned Christian writer of his age, delivered a catalogue of the hooks of the New Testament, recognising every book now received, with the intimation of a doubt concerning the Epistle to the Hebrews alone, and taking not the least notice of any book which is not now received. (Lardner, Cred. vol. x. p. 77.) VII. Contemporary with Jerome, who lived in Palestine, was St. Augustine, in Africa, who published likewise a catalogue, without joining to the Scriptures, as books of authority, any other ecclesiastical writing whatever, and without omitting one which we at this day acknowledge. (Lardner, Cred. vol. x. p. 213.) VIII. And with these concurs another contemporary writer, Rufen, presbyter of Aquileia, whose catalogue, like theirs, is perfect and unmixed, and concludes with these remarkable words: "These are the volumes which the fathers have included in the canon, and out of which they would have us prove the doctrine of our faith." (Lardner, Cred. vol. x. p. 187.) SECTION XI. These propositions cannot be predicated of any of those books which are commonly called Apocryphal Books of the New Testament. I do not know that the objection taken from apocryphal writings is at present much relied upon by scholars. But there are many, who, hearing that various Gospels existed in ancient times under the names of the apostles, may have taken up a notion, that the selection of our present Gospels from the rest was rather an arbitrary or accidental choice, than founded in any clear and certain cause of preference. To these it may be very useful to know the truth of the case. I observe, therefore:-- I. That, beside our Gospels and the Acts of the Apostles, no Christian history, claiming to be written by an apostle or apostolical man, is quoted within three hundred years after the birth of Christ, by any writer now extant or known; or, if quoted, is not quoted but with marks of censure and rejection. I have not advanced this assertion without inquiry; and I doubt not but that the passages cited by Mr. Jones and Dr. Lardner, under the several titles which the apocryphal books bear; or a reference to the places where they are mentioned as collected in a very accurate table, published in the year 1773, by the Rev. J. Atkinson, will make out the truth of the proposition to the satisfaction of every fair and competent judgment. If there be any book which may seem to form an exception to the observation, it is a Hebrew Gospel, which was circulated under the various titles of, the Gospel according to the Hebrews, the Gospel of the Nazarenes, of the Ebionites, sometimes called of the Twelve, by some ascribed to St Matthew. This Gospel is once, and only once, cited by Clemeus Alexandrinus, who lived, the reader will remember, in the latter part of the second century, and which same Clement quotes one or other of our four Gospels in almost every page of his work. It is also twice mentioned by Origen, A.D. 230; and both times with marks of diminution and discredit. And this is the ground upon which the exception stands. But what is still more material to observe is, that this Gospel, in the main, agreed with our present Gospel of Saint Matthew. (In applying to this Gospel what Jerome in the latter end of the fourth century has mentioned of a Hebrew Gospel, I think it probable that we sometimes confound it with a Hebrew copy of St. Matthew's Gospel, whether an original or version, which was then extant.) Now if, with this account of the apocryphal Gospels, we compare what we have read concerning the canonical Scriptures in the preceding sections; or even recollect that general but well-founded assertion of Dr. Lardner, "That in the remaining works of Irenaeus, Clement of Alexandria, and Tertullian, who all lived in the first two centuries, there are more and larger quotations of the small volume of the New Testament than of all the works of Cicero, by writers of all characters, for several ages;" (Lardner, Cred. vol. xii. p. 53.) and if to this we add that, notwithstanding the loss of many works of the primitive times of Christianity, we have, within the above-mentioned period, the remains of Christian writers who lived in Palestine, Syria, Asia Minor, Egypt, the part of Africa that used the Latin tongue, in Crete, Greece, Italy, and Gaul, in all which remains references are found to our evangelists; I apprehend that we shall perceive a clear and broad line of division between those writings and all others pretending to similar authority. II. But beside certain histories which assumed the names of apostles, and which were forgeries properly so called, there were some other Christian writings, in the whole or in part of an historical nature, which, though not forgeries, are denominated apocryphal, as being of uncertain or of no authority. Of this second class of writings, I have found only two which are noticed by any author of the first three centuries without express terms of condemnation: and these are, the one a book entitled the Preaching of Peter, quoted repeatedly by Clemens Alexandrinus, A.D. 196; the other a book entitled the Revelation of Peter, upon which the above-mentioned Clemens Alexandrinus is said by Eusebius to have written notes; and which is twice cited in a work still extant, ascribed to the same author. I conceive, therefore, that the proposition we have before advanced, even after it hath been subjected to every exception of every kind that can be alleged, separates, by a wide interval, our historical Scriptures from all other writings which profess to give an account of the same subject. We may be permitted however to add,-- 1. That there is no evidence that any spurious or apocryphal books whatever existed in the first century of the Christian era, in which century all our historical books are proved to have been extant. "There are no quotations of any such books in the apostolical fathers, by whom I mean Barnabas, Clement of Rome, Hermas, Ignatius, and Polycarp, whose writings reach from about the year of our Lord 70 to the year 108 (and some of whom have quoted each and every one of our historical Scriptures): I say this," adds Dr. Lardner, "because I think it has been proved." (Lardner, Cred. vol. xii. p. 158.) 2. These apocryphal writings were not read in the churches of Christians; 3. Were not admitted into their volume; 4. Do not appear in their catalogues; 5. Were not noticed by their adversaries; 6. Were not alleged by different parties, as of authority in their controversies; 7. Were not the subjects, amongst them, of commentaries, versions, collections, expositions. Finally; beside the silence of three centuries, or evidence within that time of their rejection, they were, with a consent nearly universal, reprobated by Christian writers of succeeding ages. Although it be made out by these observations that the books in question never obtained any degree of credit and notoriety which can place them in competition with our Scriptures; yet it appears from the writings of the fourth century, that many such existed in that century, and in the century preceding it. It may be difficult at this distance of time to account for their origin. Perhaps the most probable explication is, that they were in general composed with a design of making a profit by the sale. Whatever treated of the subject would find purchasers. It was an advantage taken of the pious curiosity of unlearned Christians. With a view to the same purpose, there were many of them adapted to the particular opinions of particular sects, which would naturally promote their circulation amongst the favourers of those opinions. After all, they were probably much more obscure than we imagine. Except the Gospel according to the Hebrews, there is none of which we hear more than the Gospel of the Egyptians; yet there is good reason to believe that Clement, a presbyter of Alexandria in Egypt, A.D. 184, and a man of almost universal reading, had never seen it. (Jones, vol. i. p. 243.) A Gospel according to Peter was another of the most ancient books of this kind; yet Serapion, bishop of Antioch, A.D. 200, had not read it, when he heard of such a book being in the hands of the Christians of Rhossus in Cillcia; and speaks of obtaining a sight of this Gospel from some sectaries who used it. (Lardner, Cred. vol. ii. p. 557.) Even of the Gospel of the Hebrews, which confessedly stands at the head of the catalogue, Jerome, at the end of the fourth century, was glad to procure a copy by the favour of the Nazarenes of Berea. Nothing of this sort ever happened, or could have happened, concerning our Gospels. One thing is observable of all the apocryphal Christian writings, viz. that they proceed upon the same fundamental history of Christ and his apostles as that which is disclosed in our Scriptures. The mission of Christ, his power of working miracles, his communication of that power to the apostles, his passion, death, and resurrection, are assumed or asserted by every one of them. The names under which some of them came forth are the names of men of eminence in our histories. What these books give are not contradictions, but unauthorised additions. The principal facts are supposed, the principal agents the same; which shows that these points were too much fixed to be altered or disputed. If there be any book of this description which appears to have imposed upon some considerable number of learned Christians, it is the Sibylline oracles; but when we reflect upon the circumstances which facilitated that imposture, we shall cease to wonder either at the attempt or its success. It was at that time universally understood that such a prophetic writing existed. Its contents were kept secret. This situation afforded to some one a hint, as well as an opportunity, to give out a writing under this name, favourable to the already established persuasion of Christians, and which writing, by the aid and recommendation of these circumstances, would in some degree, it is probable, be received. Of the ancient forgery we know but little; what is now produced could not, in my opinion, have imposed upon any one. It is nothing else than the Gospel history woven into verse; perhaps was at first rather a fiction than a forgery; an exercise of ingenuity, more than an attempt to deceive. CHAPTER X. RECAPITULATION. The reader will now be pleased to recollect, that the two points which form the subject of our present discussion are, first, that the Founder of Christianity, his associates, and immediate followers, passed their lives in labours, dangers, and sufferings; secondly, that they did so in attestation of the miraculous history recorded in our Scriptures, and solely in consequence of their belief of the truth of that history. The argument, by which these two propositions have been maintained by us, stands thus: No historical fact, I apprehend, is more certain, than that the original propagators of Christianity voluntarily subjected themselves to lives of fatigue, danger, and suffering, in the prosecution of their undertaking. The nature of the undertaking; the character of the persons employed in it; the opposition of their tenets to the fixed opinions and expectations of the country in which they first advanced them; their undissembled condemnation of the religion of all other countries; their total want of power, authority, or force--render it in the highest degree probable that this must have been the case. The probability is increased by what we know of the fate of the Founder of the institution, who was put to death for his attempt; and by what we also know of the cruel treatment of the converts to the institution, within thirty years after its commencement: both which points are attested by heathen writers, and, being once admitted, leave it very incredible that the primitive emissaries of the religion, who exercised their ministry, first, amongst the people who had destroyed their Master, and, afterwards, amongst those who persecuted their converts, should themselves escape with impunity, or pursue their purpose in ease and safety. This probability, thus sustained by foreign testimony, is advanced, I think, to historical certainty, by the evidence of our own books; by the accounts of a writer who was the companion of the persons whose sufferings he relates; by the letters of the persons themselves by predictions of persecutions ascribed to the Founder of the religion, which predictions would not have been inserted in his history, much less have been studiously dwelt upon, if they had not accorded with the event, and which, even if falsely ascribed to him, could only have been so ascribed, because the event suggested them; lastly, by incessant exhortations to fortitude and patience, and by an earnestness, repetition, and urgency upon the subject, which were unlikely to have appeared if there had not been, at the time, some extraordinary call for the exercise of these virtues. It is made out also, I think, with sufficient evidence, that both the teachers and converts of the religion, in consequence of their new profession, took up a new course of life and behaviour. The next great question is, what they did this FOR. That it was for a miraculous story of some kind or other, is to my apprehension extremely manifest; because, as to the fundamental article, the designation of the person, viz. that this particular person, Jesus of Nazareth, ought to be received as the Messiah, or as a messenger from God, they neither had, nor could have, anything but miracles to stand upon. That the exertions and sufferings of the apostles were for the story which we have now, is proved by the consideration that this story is transmitted to us by two of their own number, and by two others personally connected with them; that the particularity of the narrative proves that the writers claimed to possess circumstantial information, that from their situation they had full opportunity of acquiring such information, that they certainly, at least, knew what their colleagues, their companions, their masters taught; that each of these books contains enough to prove the truth of the religion; that if any one of them therefore be genuine, it is sufficient; that the genuineness, however, of all of them is made out, as well by the general arguments which evince the genuineness of the most undisputed remains of antiquity, as also by peculiar and specific proofs, viz. by citations from them in writings belonging to a period immediately contiguous to that in which they were published; by the distinguished regard paid by early Christians to the authority of these books; (which regard was manifested by their collecting of them into a volume, appropriating to that volume titles of peculiar respect, translating them into various languages, digesting them into harmonies, writing commentaries upon them, and, still more conspicuously, by the reading of them in their public assemblies in all parts of the world) by an universal agreement with respect to these books, whilst doubts were entertained concerning some others; by contending sects appealing to them; by the early adversaries of the religion not disputing their genuineness, but, on the contrary, treating them as the depositaries of the history upon which the religion was founded; by many formal catalogues of these, as of certain and authoritative writings, published in different and distant parts of the Christian world; lastly, by the absence or defect of the above-cited topics of evidence, when applied to any other histories of the same subject. These are strong arguments to prove that the books actually proceeded from the authors whose names they bear (and have always borne, for there is not a particle of evidence to show that they ever went under any other); but the strict genuineness of the books is perhaps more than is necessary to the support of our proposition. For even supposing that, by reason of the silence of antiquity, or the loss of records, we knew not who were the writers of the four Gospels, yet the fact that they were received as authentic accounts of the transaction upon which the religion rested, and were received as such by Christians at or near the age of the apostles, by those whom the apostles had taught, and by societies which the apostles had founded; this fact, I say, connected with the consideration that they are corroborative of each other's testimony, and that they are further corroborated by another contemporary history taking up the story where they had left it, and, in a narrative built upon that story, accounting for the rise and production of changes in the world, the effects of which subsist at this day; connected, moreover, with the confirmation which they receive from letters written by the apostles themselves, which both assume the same general story, and, as often as occasions lead them to do so, allude to particular parts of it; and connected also with the reflection, that if the apostles delivered any different story it is lost; (the present and no other being referred to by a series of Christian writers, down from their age to our own; being like-wise recognised in a variety of institutions, which prevailed early and universally, amongst the disciples of the religion;) and that so great a change as the oblivion of one story and the substitution of another, under such circumstances, could not have taken place: this evidence would be deemed, I apprehend, sufficient to prove concerning these books, that, whoever were the authors of them, they exhibit the story which the apostles told, and for which, consequently, they acted and they suffered. If it be so, the religion must be true. These men could not be deceivers. By only not bearing testimony, they might have avoided all these sufferings, and have lived quietly. Would men in such circumstances pretend to have seen what they never saw; assert facts which they had no knowledge of; go about lying to teach virtue; and, though not only convinced of Christ's being an impostor, but having seen the success of his imposture in his crucifixion, yet persist in carrying it on; and so persist, as to bring upon themselves for nothing, and with a full knowledge of the consequence, enmity and hatred, danger and death? ========================================= OF THE DIRECT HISTORICAL EVIDENCE OF CHRISTIANITY. PROPOSITION II. CHAPTER I. Our first proposition was, That there is satisfactory evidence that many pretending to be original witnesses of the Christian miracles, passed their lives in labours, dangers, and sufferings, voluntarily undertaken and undergone in attestation of the accounts which they delivered, and solely in consequence of their belief of the truth of those accounts; and that they also submitted, from the same motives, to new rules of conduct. Our second proposition, and which now remains to be treated of, is, That there is NOT satisfactory evidence, that persons pretending to be original witnesses of any other similar miracles have acted in the same manner, in attestation of the accounts which they delivered, and solely in consequence of their belief of the truth of those accounts. I enter upon this part of my argument, by declaring how far my belief in miraculous accounts goes. If the reformers in the time of Wickliffe, or of Luther; or those of England in the time of Henry the Eighth, or of Queen Mary; or the founders of our religious sects since, such as were Mr. Whitfield and Mr. Wesley in our times--had undergone the life of toil and exertion, of danger and sufferings, which we know that many of them did undergo, for a miraculous story; that is to say, if they had founded their public ministry upon the allegation of miracles wrought within their own knowledge, and upon narratives which could not be resolved into delusion or mistake; and if it had appeared that their conduct really had its origin in these accounts, I should have believed them. Or, to borrow an instance which will be familiar to every one of my readers, if the late Mr. Howard had undertaken his labours and journeys in attestation, and in consequence of a clear and sensible miracle, I should have believed him also. Or, to represent the same thing under a third supposition; if Socrates had professed to perform public miracles at Athens; if the friends of Socrates, Phaedo, Cebes, Crito, and Simmias, together with Plato, and many of his followers, relying upon the attestations which these miracles afforded to his pretensions, had, at the hazard of their lives, and the certain expense of their ease and tranquillity, gone about Greece, after his death, to publish and propagate his doctrines: and if these things had come to our knowledge, in the same way as that in which the life of Socrates is now transmitted to us through the hands of his companions and disciples, that is, by writings received without doubt as theirs, from the age in which they were published to the present, I should have believed this likewise. And my belief would, in each case, be much strengthened, if the subject of the mission were of importance to the conduct and happiness of human life; if it testified anything which it behoved mankind to know from such authority; if the nature of what it delivered required the sort of proof which it alleged; if the occasion was adequate to the interposition, the end worthy of the means. In the last ease, my faith would be much confirmed if the effects of the transaction remained; more especially if a change had been wrought, at the time, in the opinion and conduct of such numbers as to lay the foundation of an institution, and of a system of doctrines, which had since overspread the greatest part of the civilized world. I should have believed, I say, the testimony in these cases; yet none of them do more than come up to the apostolic history. If any one choose to call assent to its evidence credulity, it is at least incumbent upon him to produce examples in which the same evidence hath turned out to be fallacious. And this contains the precise question which we are now to agitate. In stating the comparison between our evidence, and what our adversaries may bring into competition with ours, we will divide the distinctions which we wish to propose into two kinds,--those which relate to the proof, and those which relate to the miracles. Under the former head we may lay out of the case:-- I. Such accounts of supernatural events as are found only in histories by some ages posterior to the transaction; and of which it is evident that the historian could know little more than his reader. Ours is contemporary history. This difference alone removes out of our way the miraculous history of Pythagoras, who lived five hundred years before the Christian era, written by Porphyry and Jamblicus, who lived three hundred years after that era; the prodigies of Livy's history; the fables of the heroic ages; the whole of the Greek and Roman, as well as of the Gothic mythology; a great part of the legendary history of Popish saints, the very best attested of which is extracted from the certificates that are exhibited during the process of their canonization, a ceremony which seldom takes place till a century after their deaths. It applies also with considerable force to the miracles of Apollonius Tyaneus, which are contained in a solitary history of his life, published by Philostratus above a hundred years after his death; and in which, whether Philostratus had any prior account to guide him, depends upon his single unsupported assertion. Also to some of the miracles of the third century, especially to one extraordinary instance, the account of Gregory, bishop of Neocesarea, called Thaumaturgus, delivered in the writings of Gregory of Nyssen, who lived one hundred and thirty years after the subject of his panegyric. The value of this circumstance is shown to have been accurately exemplified in the history of Ignatius Loyola, founder of the order of Jesuits. (Douglas's Criterion of Miracles, p. 74.) His life, written by a companion of his, and by one of the order, was published about fifteen years after his death. In which life, the author, so far from ascribing any miracles to Ignatius, industriously states the reasons why he was not invested with any such power. The life was republished fifteen years afterwards, with the addition of many circumstances which were the fruit, the author says, of further inquiry, and of diligent examination; but still with a total silence about miracles. When Ignatius had been dead nearly sixty years, the Jesuits, conceiving a wish to have the founder of their order placed in the Roman calendar, began, as it should seem, for the first time, to attribute to him a catalogue of miracles which could not then be distinctly disproved; and which there was, in those who governed the church, a strong disposition to admit upon the slenderest proofs. II. We may lay out of the case accounts published in one country, of what passed in a distant country, without any proof that such accounts were known or received at home. In the case of Christianity, Judea, which was the scene of the transaction, was the centre of the mission. The story was published in the place in which it was acted. The church of Christ was first planted at Jerusalem itself. With that church others corresponded. From thence the primitive teachers of the institution went forth; thither they assembled. The church of Jerusalem, and the several churches of Judea, subsisted from the beginning, and for many ages; received also the same books and the same accounts as other churches did. (The succession of many eminent bishops of Jerusalem in the first three centuries is distinctly preserved; as Alexander, A.D. 212, who succeeded Narcissus, then 116 years old.) This distinction disposes, amongst others, of the above-mentioned miracles of Apollonius Tyaneus, most of which are related to have been performed in India; no evidence remaining that either the miracles ascribed to him, or the history of those miracles, were ever heard of in India. Those of Francis Xavier, the Indian missionary, with many others of the Romish breviary, are liable to the same objection, viz. that the accounts of them were published at a vast distance from the supposed scene of the wonders. (Douglas's Crit. p. 84.) III. We lay out of the case transient rumours. Upon the first publication of an extraordinary account, or even of an article of ordinary intelligence, no one who is not personally acquainted with the transaction can know whether it be true or false, because any man may publish any story. It is in the future confirmation, or contradiction, of the account; in its permanency, or its disappearance; its dying away into silence, or its increasing in notoriety; its being followed up by subsequent accounts, and being repeated in different and independent accounts--that solid truth is distinguished from fugitive lies. This distinction is altogether on the side of Christianity. The story did not drop. On the contrary, it was succeeded by a train of action and events dependent upon it. The accounts which we have in our hands were composed after the first reports must have subsided. They were followed by a train of writings upon the subject. The historical testimonies of the transaction were many and various, and connected with letters, discourses, controversies, apologies, successively produced by the same transaction. IV. We may lay out of the case what I call naked history. It has been said, that if the prodigies of the Jewish history had been found only in fragments of Manetho, or Berosus, we should have paid no regard to them: and I am willing to admit this. If we knew nothing of the fact, but from the fragment; if we possessed no proof that these accounts had been credited and acted upon, from times, probably, as ancient as the accounts themselves; if we had no visible effects connected with the history, no subsequent or collateral testimony to confirm it; under these circumstances I think that it would be undeserving of credit. But this certainly is not our case. In appreciating the evidence of Christianity, the books are to be combined with the institution; with the prevalency of the religion at this day; with the time and place of its origin, which are acknowledged points; with the circumstances of its rise and progress, as collected from external history; with the fact of our present books being received by the votaries of the institution from the beginning; with that of other books coming after these, filled with accounts of effects and consequences resulting from the transaction, or referring to the transaction, or built upon it; lastly, with the consideration of the number and variety of the books themselves, the different writers from which they proceed, the different views with which they were written, so disagreeing as to repel the suspicion of confederacy, so agreeing as to show that they were founded in a common original, i. e. in a story substantially the same. Whether this proof be satisfactory or not, it is properly a cumulation of evidence, by no means a naked or solitary record. V. A mark of historical truth, although only a certain way, and to a certain degree, is particularity in names, dates, places, circumstances, and in the order of events preceding or following the transaction: of which kind, for instance, is the particularity in the description of St. Paul's voyage and shipwreck, in the 27th chapter of the Acts, which no man, I think, can read without being convinced that the writer was there; and also in the account of the cure and examination of the blind man in the 9th chapter of St. John's Gospel, which bears every mark of personal knowledge on the part of the historian. (Both these chapters ought to be read for the sake of this very observation.) I do not deny that fiction has often the particularity of truth; but then it is of studied and elaborate fiction, or of a formal attempt to deceive, that we observe this. Since, however, experience proves that particularity is not confined to truth, I have stated that it is a proof of truth only to a certain extent, i. e. it reduces the question to this, whether we can depend or not upon the probity of the relater? which is a considerable advance in our present argument; for an express attempt to deceive, in which case alone particularity can appear without truth, is charged upon the evangelists by few. If the historian acknowledge himself to have received his intelligence from others, the particularity of the narrative shows, prima facie, the accuracy of his inquiries, and the fulness of his information. This remark belongs to St. Luke's history. Of the particularity which we allege, many examples may be found in all the Gospels. And it is very difficult to conceive that such numerous particularities as are almost everywhere to be met with in the Scriptures should be raised out of nothing, or be spun out of the imagination without any fact to go upon.* _________ * "There is always some truth where there are considerable particularities related, and they always seem to bear some proportion to one another. Thus, there is a great want of the particulars of time, place, and persons in Manetho's account of the Egyptian Dynasties, Etesias's of the Assyrian Kings, and those which the technical chronologers have given of the ancient kingdoms of Greece; and, agreeably thereto, the accounts have much fiction and falsehood, with some truth: whereas Thucydides's History of the Peloponnesian War, and Caesar's of the War in Gaul, in both which the particulars of time, place, and persons are mentioned, are universally esteemed true to a great degree of exactness." Hartley, vol. ii. p. 109. _________ It is to be remarked, however, that this particularity is only to be looked for in direct history. It is not natural in references or allusions, which yet, in other respects, often afford, as far as they go, the most unsuspicious evidence. VI. We lay out of the case such stories of supernatural events as require, on the part of the hearer, nothing more than an otiose assent; stories upon which nothing depends, in which no interest is involved, nothing is to be done or changed in consequence of believing them. Such stories are credited, if the careless assent that is given to them deserve that name, more by the indolence of the hearer, than by his judgment: or, though not much credited, are passed from one to another without inquiry or resistance. To this case, and to this case alone, belongs what is called the love of the marvellous. I have never known it carry men further. Men do not suffer persecution from the love of the marvellous. Of the indifferent nature we are speaking of are most vulgar errors and popular superstition: most, for instance, of the current reports of apparitions. Nothing depends upon their being true or false. But not, surely, of this kind were the alleged miracles of Christ and his apostles. They decided, if true, the most important question upon which the human mind can fix its anxiety. They claimed to regulate the opinions of mankind upon subjects in which they are not only deeply concerned, but usually refractory and obstinate. Men could not be utterly careless in such a case as this. If a Jew took up the story, he found his darling partiality to his own nation and law wounded; if a Gentile, he found his idolatry and polytheism reprobated and condemned. Whoever entertained the account, whether Jew or Gentile, could not avoid the following reflection:--"If these things be true, I must give up the opinions and principles in which I have been brought up, the religion in which my fathers lived and died." It is not conceivable that a man should do this upon any idle report or frivolous account, or, indeed, without being fully satisfied and convinced of the truth and credibility of the narrative to which he trusted. But it did not stop at opinions. They who believed Christianity acted upon it. Many made it the express business of their lives to publish the intelligence. It was required of those who admitted that intelligence to change forthwith their conduct and their principles, to take up a different course of life, to part with their habits and gratifications, and begin a new set of rules and system of behaviour. The apostles, at least, were interested not to sacrifice their ease, their fortunes, and their lives for an idle tale; multitudes beside them were induced, by the same tale, to encounter opposition, danger, and sufferings. If it be said, that the mere promise of a future state would do all this; I answer, that the mere promise of a future state, without any evidence to give credit or assurance to it, would do nothing. A few wandering fishermen talking of a resurrection of the dead could produce no effect. If it be further said that men easily believe what they anxiously desire; I again answer that in my opinion, the very contrary of this is nearer to the truth. Anxiety of desire, earnestness of expectation, the vastness of an event, rather causes men to disbelieve, to doubt, to dread a fallacy, to distrust, and to examine. When our Lord's resurrection was first reported to the apostles, they did not believe, we are told, for joy. This was natural, and is agreeable to experience. VII. We have laid out of the case those accounts which require no more than a simple assent; and we now also lay out of the case those which come merely in affirmance of opinions already formed. This last circumstance is of the utmost importance to notice well. It has long been observed, that Popish miracles happen in Popish countries; that they make no converts; which proves that stories are accepted when they fall in with principles already fixed, with the public sentiments, or with the sentiments of a party already engaged on the side the miracle supports, which would not be attempted to be produced in the face of enemies, in opposition to reigning tenets or favourite prejudices, or when, if they be believed, the belief must draw men away from their preconceived and habitual opinions, from their modes of life and rules of action. In the former case, men may not only receive a miraculous account, but may both act and suffer on the side, and, in the cause, which the miracle supports, yet not act or suffer for the miracle, but in pursuance of a prior persuasion. The miracle, like any other argument which only confirms what was before believed, is admitted with little examination. In the moral, as in the natural world, it is change which requires a cause. Men are easily fortified in their old opinions, driven from them with great difficulty. Now how does this apply to the Christian history? The miracles there recorded were wrought in the midst of enemies, under a government, a priesthood, and a magistracy decidedly and vehemently adverse to them, and to the pretensions which they supported. They were Protestant miracles in a Popish country; they were Popish miracles in the midst of Protestants. They produced a change; they established a society upon the spot, adhering to the belief of them; they made converts; and those who were converted gave up to the testimony their most fixed opinions and most favourite prejudices. They who acted and suffered in the cause acted and suffered for the miracles: for there was no anterior persuasion to induce them, no prior reverence, prejudice, or partiality to take hold of Jesus had not one follower when he set up his claim. His miracles gave birth to his sect. No part of this description belongs to the ordinary evidence of Heathen or Popish miracles. Even most of the miracles alleged to have been performed by Christians, in the second and third century of its era, want this confirmation. It constitutes indeed a line of partition between the origin and the progress of Christianity. Frauds and fallacies might mix themselves with the progress, which could not possibly take place in the commencement of the religion; at least, according to any laws of human conduct that we are acquainted with. What should suggest to the first propagators of Christianity, especially to fishermen, tax-gatherers, and husbandmen, such a thought as that of changing the religion of the world; what could bear them through the difficulties in which the attempt engaged them; what could procure any degree of success to the attempt? are questions which apply, with great force, to the setting out of the institution--with less, to every future stage of it. To hear some men talk, one would suppose the setting up a religion by miracles to be a thing of every day's experience: whereas the whole current of history is against it. Hath any founder of a new sect amongst Christians pretended to miraculous powers, and succeeded by his pretensions? "Were these powers claimed or exercised by the founders of the sects of the Waldenses and Albigenses? Did Wickliffe in England pretend to it? Did Huss or Jerome in Bohemia? Did Luther in Germany, Zuinglius in Switzerland, Calvin in France, or any of the reformers advance this plea?" (Campbell on Miracles, p. 120, ed. 1766.) The French prophets, in the beginning of the present century, (the eighteenth) ventured to allege miraculous evidence, and immediately ruined their cause by their temerity. "Concerning the religion of ancient Rome, of Turkey, of Siam, of China, a single miracle cannot be named that was ever offered as a test of any of those religions before their establishment." (Adams on Mir. p. 75.) We may add to what has been observed of the distinction which we are considering, that, where miracles are alleged merely in affirmance of a prior opinion, they who believe the doctrine may sometimes propagate a belief of the miracles which they do not themselves entertain. This is the case of what are called pious frauds; but it is a case, I apprehend, which takes place solely in support of a persuasion already established. At least it does not hold of the apostolical history. If the apostles did not believe the miracles, they did not believe the religion; and without this belief, where was the piety, what place was there for anything which could bear the name or colour of piety, in publishing and attesting miracles in its behalf? If it be said that many promote the belief of revelation, and of any accounts which favour that belief, because they think them, whether well or ill founded, of public and political utility; I answer, that if a character exist which can with less justice than another be ascribed to the founders of the Christian religion, it is that of politicians, or of men capable of entertaining political views. The truth is, that there is no assignable character which will account for the conduct of the apostles, supposing their story to be false. If bad men, what could have induced them to take such pains to promote virtue? If good men, they would not have gone about the country with a string of lies in their mouths. In appreciating the credit of any miraculous story, these are distinctions which relate to the evidence. There are other distinctions, of great moment in the question, which relate to the miracles themselves. Of which latter kind the following ought carefully to be retained. I. It is not necessary to admit as a miracle what can be resolved into a false perception. Of this nature was the demon of Socrates; the visions of Saint Anthony, and of many others; the vision which Lord Herbert of Cherbury describes himself to have seen; Colonel Gardiner's vision, as related in his life, written by Dr. Doddridge. All these may be accounted for by a momentary insanity; for the characteristic symptom of human madness is the rising up in the mind of images not distinguishable by the patient from impressions upon the senses. (Batty on Lunacy.) The cases, however, in which the possibility of this delusion exists are divided from the cases in which it does not exist by many, and those not obscure marks. They are, for the most part, cases of visions or voices. The object is hardly ever touched. The vision submits not to be handled. One sense does not confirm another. They are likewise almost always cases of a solitary witness. It is in the highest degree improbable, and I know not, indeed, whether it hath ever been the fact, that the same derangement of the mental organs should seize different persons at the same time; a derangement, I mean, so much the same, as to represent to their imagination the same objects. Lastly, these are always cases of momentary miracles; by which term I mean to denote miracles of which the whole existence is of short duration, in contradistinction to miracles which are attended with permanent effects. The appearance of a spectre, the hearing of a supernatural sound, is a momentary miracle. The sensible proof is gone when the apparition or sound is over. But if a person born blind be restored to sight, a notorious cripple to the use of his limbs, or a dead man to life, here is a permanent effect produced by supernatural means. The change indeed was instantaneous, but the proof continues. The subject of the miracle remains. The man cured or restored is there: his former condition was known, and his present condition may be examined. This can by no possibility be resolved into false perception: and of this kind are by far the greater part of the miracles recorded in the New Testament. When Lazarus was raised from the dead, he did not merely move, and speak, and die again; or come out of the grave, and vanish away. He returned to his home and family, and there continued; for we find him some time afterwards in the same town, sitting at table with Jesus and his sisters; visited by great multitudes of the Jews as a subject of curiosity; giving, by his presence, so much uneasiness to the Jewish rulers as to beget in them a design of destroying him. (John xii. 1, 2, 9, 10.) No delusion can account for this. The French prophets in England, some time since, gave out that one of their teachers would come to life again; but their enthusiasm never made them believe that they actually saw him alive. The blind man whose restoration to sight at Jerusalem is recorded in the ninth chapter of Saint John's Gospel did not quit the place or conceal himself from inquiry. On the contrary, he was forthcoming, to answer the call, to satisfy the scrutiny, and to sustain the browbeating of Christ's angry and powerful enemies. When the cripple at the gate of the temple was suddenly cured by Peter, (Acts iii. 2.) he did not immediately relapse into his former lameness, or disappear out of the city; but boldly and honestly produced himself along with the apostles, when they were brought the next day before the Jewish council. (Acts iv. 14.) Here, though the miracle was sudden, the proof was permanent. The lameness had been notorious, the cure continued. This, therefore, could not be the effect of any momentary delirium, either in the subject or in the witnesses of the transaction. It is the same with the greatest number of the Scripture miracles. There are other cases of a mixed nature, in which, although the principal miracle be momentary, some circumstance combined with it is permanent. Of this kind is the history of Saint Paul's conversion. (Acts ix.) The sudden light and sound, the vision and the voice upon the road to Damascus, were momentary: but Paul's blindness for three days in consequence of what had happened; the communication made to Ananias in another place, and by a vision independent of the former; Ananias finding out Paul in consequence of intelligence so received, and finding him in the condition described, and Paul's recovery of his sight upon Ananias laying his hands upon him; are circumstances which take the transaction, and the principal miracle as included in it, entirely out of the case of momentary miracles, or of such as may be accounted for by false perceptions. Exactly the same thing may be observed of Peter's vision preparatory to the call of Cornelius, and of its connexion with what was imparted in a distant place to Cornelius himself, and with the message despatched by Cornelius to Peter. The vision might be a dream; the message could not. Either communication taken separately, might be a delusion; the concurrence of the two was impossible to happen without a supernatural cause. Beside the risk of delusion which attaches upon momentary miracles, there is also much more room for imposture. The account cannot be examined at the moment: and when that is also a moment of hurry and confusion, it may not be difficult for men of influence to gain credit to any story which they may wish to have believed. This is precisely the case of one of the best attested of the miracles of Old Rome, the appearance of Castor and Pollux in the battle fought by Posthumius with the Latins at the lake Regillus. There is no doubt but that Posthumius, after the battle, spread the report of such an appearance. No person could deny it whilst it was said to last. No person, perhaps, had any inclination to dispute it afterwards; or, if they had, could say with positiveness what was or what was not seen by some or other of the army, in the dismay and amidst the tumult of a battle. In assigning false perceptions as the origin to which some miraculous accounts may be referred, I have not mentioned claims to inspiration, illuminations, secret notices or directions, internal sensations, or consciousnesses of being acted upon by spiritual influences, good or bad, because these, appealing to no external proof, however convincing they may be to the persons themselves, form no part of what can be accounted miraculous evidence. Their own credibility stands upon their alliance with other miracles. The discussion, therefore, of all such pretensions may be omitted. II. It is not necessary to bring into the comparison what may be called tentative miracles; that is, where, out of a great number of trials, some succeed; and in the accounts of which, although the narrative of the successful cases be alone preserved, and that of the unsuccessful cases sunk, yet enough is stated to show that the cases produced are only a few out of many in which the same means have been employed. This observation bears with considerable force upon the ancient oracles and auguries, in which a single coincidence of the event with the prediction is talked of and magnified, whilst failures are forgotten, or suppressed, or accounted for. It is also applicable to the cures wrought by relics, and at the tombs of saints. The boasted efficacy of the king's touch, upon which Mr. Hume lays some stress, falls under the same description. Nothing is alleged concerning it which is not alleged of various nostrums, namely, out of many thousands who have used them, certified proofs of a few who have recovered after them. No solution of this sort is applicable to the miracles of the Gospel. There is nothing in the narrative which can induce, or even allow, us to believe, that Christ attempted cures in many instances, and succeeded in a few; or that he ever made the attempt in vain. He did not profess to heal everywhere all that were sick; on the contrary, he told the Jews, evidently meaning to represent his own case, that, "although many widows were in Israel in the days of Elias, when the heaven was shut up three years and six months, when great famine was throughout all the land, yet unto none of them was Elias sent, save unto Sarepta, a city of Sidon, unto a woman that was a widow:" and that "many lepers were in Israel in the time of Eliseus the prophet, and none of them was cleansed saving Naaman the Syrian." (Luke iv. 25.) By which examples he gave them to understand, that it was not the nature of a Divine interposition, or necessary to its purpose, to be general; still less to answer every challenge that might be made, which would teach men to put their faith upon these experiments. Christ never pronounced the word, but the effect followed.* _________ *One, and only one, instance may be produced in which the disciples of Christ do seem to have attempted a cure, and not to have been able to perform it. The story is very ingenuously related by three of the evangelists. (Matt. xvii. 14. Mark ix. 14. Luke ix. 33.) The patient was afterwards healed by Christ himself; and the whole transaction seems to have been intended, as it was well suited, to display the superiority of Christ above all who performed miracles in his name, a distinction which, during his presence in the world, it might be necessary to inculcate by some such proof as this. _________ It was not a thousand sick that received his benediction, and a few that were benefited; a single paralytic is let down in his bed at Jesus's feet, in the midst of a surrounding multitude; Jesus bid him walk, and he did so. (Mark ii. 3.) A man with a withered hand is in the synagogue; Jesus bid him stretch forth his hand in the presence of the assembly, and it was "restored whole like the other." (Matt. xii. 10.) There was nothing tentative in these cures; nothing that can be explained by the power of accident. We may observe, also, that many of the cures which Christ wrought, such as that of a person blind from his birth; also many miracles besides cures, as raising the dead, walking upon the sea, feeding a great multitude with a few loaves and fishes, are of a nature which does not in anywise admit of the supposition of a fortunate experiment. III. We may dismiss from the question all accounts in which, allowing the phenomenon to be real, the fact to be true, it still remains doubtful whether a miracle were wrought. This is the case with the ancient history of what is called the thundering legion, of the extraordinary circumstances which obstructed the rebuilding of the temple at Jerusalem by Julian; the circling of the flames and fragrant smell at the martyrdom of Polycarp; the sudden shower that extinguished the fire into which the Scriptures were thrown in the Diocletian persecution; Constantine's dream; his inscribing in consequence of it the cross upon his standard and the shields of his soldiers; his victory, and the escape of the standard-bearer; perhaps, also, the imagined appearance of the cross in the heavens, though this last circumstance is very deficient in historical evidence. It is also the case with the modern annual exhibition of the liquefaction of the blood of Saint Januarius at Naples. It is a doubt, likewise, which ought to be excluded by very special circumstances from those narratives which relate to the supernatural cure of hypochondriacal and nervous complaints, and of all diseases which are much affected by the imagination. The miracles of the second and third century are, usually, healing the sick and casting out evil spirits, miracles in which there is room for some error and deception. We hear nothing of causing the blind to see, the lame to walk, the deaf to hear, the lepers to be cleansed. (Jortin's Remarks, vol. ii. p. 51.) There are also instances in Christian writers of reputed miracles, which were natural operations, though not known to be such at the time; as that of articulate speech after the loss of a great part of the tongue. IV. To the same head of objection, nearly, may also be referred accounts in which the variation of a small circumstance may have transformed some extraordinary appearance, or some critical coincidence of events, into a miracle; stories, in a word, which may be resolved into exaggeration. The miracles of the Gospel can by no possibility be explained away in this manner. Total fiction will account for anything; but no stretch of exaggeration that has any parallel in other histories, no force of fancy upon real circumstances, could produce the narratives which we now have. The feeding of the five thousand with a few loaves and fishes surpasses all bounds of exaggeration. The raising of Lazarus, of the widow's son at Nain, as well as many of the cures which Christ wrought, come not within the compass of misrepresentation. I mean that it is impossible to assign any position of circumstances however peculiar, any accidental effects however extraordinary, any natural singularity, which could supply an origin or foundation to these accounts. Having thus enumerated several exceptions which may justly be taken to relations of miracles, it is necessary, when we read the Scriptures, to bear in our minds this general remark; that although there be miracles recorded in the New Testament, which fall within some or other of the exceptions here assigned, yet that they are united with others, to which none of the same exceptions extend, and that their credibility stands upon this union. Thus the visions and revelations which Saint Paul asserts to have been imparted to him may not, in their separate evidence, be distinguishable from the visions and revelations which many others have alleged. But here is the difference. Saint Paul's pretensions were attested by external miracles wrought by himself, and by miracles wrought in the cause to which these visions relate; or, to speak more properly, the same historical authority which informs us of one informs us of the other. This is not ordinarily true of the visions of enthusiasts, or even of the accounts in which they are contained. Again, some of Christ's own miracles were momentary; as the transfiguration, the appearance and voice from Heaven at his baptism, a voice from the clouds on one occasion afterwards (John xii. 28), and some others. It is not denied, that the distinction which we have proposed concerning miracles of this species applies, in diminution of the force of the evidence, as much to these instances as to others. But this is the case not with all the miracles ascribed to Christ, nor with the greatest part, nor with many. Whatever force therefore there may be in the objection, we have numerous miracles which are free from it; and even those to which it is applicable are little affected by it in their credit, because there are few who, admitting the rest, will reject them. If there be miracles of the New Testament which come within any of the other heads into which we have distributed the objections, the same remark must be repeated. And this is one way in which the unexampled number and variety of the miracles ascribed to Christ strengthen the credibility of Christianity. For it precludes any solution, or conjecture about a solution, which imagination, or even which experience might suggest, concerning some particular miracles, if considered independently of others. The miracles of Christ were of various kinds,* and performed in great varieties of situation, form, and manner; at Jerusalem, the metropolis of the Jewish nation and religion; in different parts of Judea and Galilee; in cities and villages; in synagogues, in private houses; in the street, in highways; with preparation, as in the case of Lazarus; by accident, as in the case of the widow's son of Nain; when attended by multitudes, and when alone with the patient; in the midst of his disciples, and in the presence of his enemies; with the common people around him, and before Scribes and Pharisees, and rulers of the synagogues. _________ * Not only healing every species of disease, but turning water into wine (John ii.); feeding multitudes with a few loaves and fishes (Matt. xiv. 15; Mark vi. 35; Luke ix. 12; John vi. 5); walking on the sea (Matt. xiv. 25); calming a storm (Matt. viii. 26; Luke viii. 24); a celestial voice at his baptism, and miraculous appearance (Matt. iii. 16; afterwards John xii. 28); his transfiguration (Matt. xvii. 18; Mark ix. 2; Luke ix. 28; 2 Peter i. 16, 17); raising the dead in three distinct instances (Matt. ix. 18; Mark v. 22; Luke vii. 14; viii. 41; John xi.). _________ I apprehend that, when we remove from the comparison the cases which are fairly disposed of by the observations that have been stated, many cases will not remain. To those which do remain, we apply this final distinction; "that there is not satisfactory evidence that persons pretending to be original witnesses of the miracles passed their lives in labours, dangers, and sufferings, voluntarily undertaken and undergone in attestation of the accounts which they delivered, and properly in consequence of their belief of the truth of those accounts." CHAPTER II. But they with whom we argue have undoubtedly a right to select their own examples. The instances with which Mr. Hume has chosen to confront the miracles of the New Testament, and which, therefore, we are entitled to regard as the strongest which the history of the world could supply to the inquiries of a very acute and learned adversary, are the three following: I. The cure of a blind and of a lame man of Alexandria, by the emperor Vespasian, as related by Tacitus; II. The restoration of the limb of an attendant in a Spanish church, as told by Cardinal de Retz; and, III. The cures said to be performed at the tomb of the abbe Paris in the early part of the eighteenth century. I. The narrative of Tacitus is delivered in these terms: "One of the common people of Alexandria, known to be diseased in his eyes, by the admonition of the god Serapis, whom that superstitious nation worship above all other gods, prostrated himself before the emperor, earnestly imploring from him a remedy for his blindness, and entreating that he would deign to anoint with his spittle his cheeks and the balls of his eyes. Another, diseased in his hand, requested, by the admonition of the same god, that he might be touched by the foot of the emperor. Vespasian at first derided and despised their application; afterwards, when they continued to urge their petitions, he sometimes appeared to dread the imputation of vanity; at other times, by the earnest supplication of the patients, and the persuasion of his flatterers, to be induced to hope for success. At length he commanded an inquiry to be made by the physicians, whether such a blindness and debility were vincible by human aid. The report of the physicians contained various points: that in the one, the power of vision was not destroyed, but would return if the obstacles were removed; that in the other, the diseased joints might be restored, if a healing power were applied; that it was, perhaps, agreeable to the gods to do this; that the emperor was elected by divine assistance; lastly, that the credit of the success would be the emperor's, the ridicule of the disappointment would fall upon the patients. Vespasian believing that everything was in the power of his fortune, and that nothing was any longer incredible, whilst the multitude which stood by eagerly expected the event, with a countenance expressive of joy, executed what he was desired to do. Immediately the hand was restored to its use, and light returned to the blind man. They who were present relate both these cures, even at this time, when there is nothing to be gained by lying." (Tacit. Hist. lib. iv.) Now, though Tacitus wrote this account twenty-seven years after the miracle is said to have been performed, and wrote at Rome of what passed at Alexandria, and wrote also from report; and although it does not appear that he had examined the story or that he believed it, (but rather the contrary,) yet I think his testimony sufficient to prove that such a transaction took place: by which I mean, that the two men in question did apply to Vespasian; that Vespasian did touch the diseased in the manner related; and that a cure was reported to have followed the operation. But the affair labours under a strong and just suspicion, that the whole of it was a concerted imposture brought about by collusion between the patients, the physician, and the emperor. This solution is probable, because there was everything to suggest, and everything to facilitate such a scheme. The miracle was calculated to confer honour upon the emperor, and upon the god Serapis. It was achieved in the midst of the emperor's flatterers and followers; in a city and amongst a populace before-hand devoted to his interest, and to the worship of the god: where it would have been treason and blasphemy together to have contradicted the fame of the cure, or even to have questioned it. And what is very observable in the account is, that the report of the physicians is just such a report as would have been made of a case in which no external marks of the disease existed, and which, consequently, was capable of being easily counterfeited; viz. that in the first of the patients the organs of vision were not destroyed, that the weakness of the second was in his joints. The strongest circumstance in Tacitus's narration is, that the first patient was "notus tabe oculorum," remarked or notorious for the disease in his eyes. But this was a circumstance which might have found its way into the story in its progress from a distant country, and during an interval of thirty years; or it might be true that the malady of the eyes was notorious, yet that the nature and degree of the disease had never been ascertained; a case by no means uncommon. The emperor's reserve was easily affected: or it is possible he might not be in the secret. There does not seem to be much weight in the observation of Tacitus, that they who were present continued even then to relate the story when there was nothing to be gained by the lie. It only proves that those who had told the story for many years persisted in it. The state of mind of the witnesses and spectators at the time is the point to be attended to. Still less is there of pertinency in Mr. Hume's eulogium on the cautious and penetrating genius of the historian; for it does not appear that the historian believed it. The terms in which he speaks of Serapis, the deity to whose interposition the miracle was attributed, scarcely suffer us to suppose that Tacitus thought the miracle to be real: "by the admonition of the god Serapis, whom that superstitious nation (dedita superstitionibus gens) worship above all other gods." To have brought this supposed miracle within the limits of comparison with the miracles of Christ, it ought to have appeared that a person of a low and private station, in the midst of enemies, with the whole power of the country opposing him, with every one around him prejudiced or interested against his claims and character, pretended to perform these cures, and required the spectators, upon the strength of what they saw, to give up their firmest hopes and opinions, and follow him through a life of trial and danger; that many were so moved as to obey his call, at the expense both of every notion in which they had been brought up, and of their ease, safety, and reputation; and that by these beginnings a change was produced in the world, the effects of which remain to this day: a case, both in its circumstances and consequences, very unlike anything we find in Tacitus's relation. II. The story taken from the Memoirs of Cardinal de Retz, which is the second example alleged by Mr. Hume, is this: "In the church of Saragossa in Spain, the canons showed me a man whose business it was to light the lamps; telling me, that he had been several years at the gate with one leg only. I saw him with two." (Liv. iv. A.D. 1654.) It is stated by Mr. Hume, that the cardinal who relates this story did not believe it; and it nowhere appears that he either examined the limb, or asked the patient, or indeed any one, a single question about the matter. An artificial leg, wrought with art, would be sufficient, in a place where no such contrivance had ever before been heard of, to give origin and currency to the report. The ecclesiastics of the place would, it is probable, favour the story, inasmuch as it advanced the honour of their image and church. And if they patronized it, no other person at Saragossa, in the middle of the last century, would care to dispute it. The story likewise coincided not less with the wishes and preconceptions of the people than with the interests of their ecclesiastical rulers: so that there was prejudice backed by authority, and both operating upon extreme ignorance, to account for the success of the imposture. If, as I have suggested, the contrivance of an artificial limb was then new, it would not occur to the cardinal himself to suspect it; especially under the carelessness of mind with which he heard the tale, and the little inclination he felt to scrutinize or expose its fallacy. III. The miracles related to have been wrought at the tomb of the abbe Paris admit in general of this solution. The patients who frequented the tomb were so affected by their devotion, their expectation, the place, the solemnity, and, above all, by the sympathy of the surrounding multitude, that many of them were thrown into violent convulsions, which convulsions, in certain instances, produced a removal of disorder, depending upon obstruction. We shall, at this day, have the less difficulty in admitting the above account, because it is the very same thing as hath lately been experienced in the operations of animal magnetism: and the report of the French physicians upon that mysterious remedy is very applicable to the present consideration, viz. that the pretenders to the art, by working upon the imaginations of their patients, were frequently able to produce convulsions; that convulsions so produced are amongst the most powerful, but, at the same time, most uncertain and unmanageable applications to the human frame which can be employed. Circumstances which indicate this explication, in the case of the Parisian miracles, are the following: 1. They were tentative. Out of many thousand sick, infirm, and diseased persons who resorted to the tomb, the professed history of the miracles contains only nine cures. 2. The convulsions at the tomb are admitted. 3. The diseases were, for the most part, of that sort which depends upon inaction and obstruction, as dropsies, palsies, and some tumours. 4. The cures were gradual; some patients attending many days, some several weeks, and some several months. 5. The cures were many of them incomplete. 6. Others were temporary. (The reader will find these particulars verified in the detail, by the accurate inquiries of the present bishop of Sarum, in his Criterion of Miracles, p. 132, et seq.) So that all the wonder we are called upon to account for is, that out of an almost innumerable multitude which resorted to the tomb for the cure of their complaints, and many of whom were there agitated by strong convulsions, a very small proportion experienced a beneficial change in their constitution, especially in the action of the nerves and glands. Some of the cases alleged do not require that we should have recourse to this solution. The first case in the catalogue is scarcely distinguishable from the progress of a natural recovery. It was that of a young man who laboured under an inflammation of one eye, and had lost the sight of the other. The inflamed eye was relieved, but the blindness of the other remained. The inflammation had before been abated by medicine; and the young man, at the time of his attendance at the tomb, was using a lotion of laudanum. And, what is a still more material part of the case, the inflammation, after some interval, returned. Another case was that of a young man who had lost his sight by the puncture of an awl, and the discharge of the aqueous humour through the wound. The sight, which had been gradually returning, was much improved during his visit to the tomb, that is, probably in the same degree in which the discharged humour was replaced by fresh secretions. And it is observable, that these two are the only cases which, from their nature, should seem unlikely to be affected by convulsions. In one material respect I allow that the Parisian miracles were different from those related by Tacitus, and from the Spanish miracle of the cardinal de Retz. They had not, like them, all the power and all the prejudice of the country on their side to begin with. They were alleged by one party against another, by the Jansenists against the Jesuits. These were of course opposed and examined by their adversaries. The consequence of which examination was that many falsehoods were detected, that with something really extraordinary much fraud appeared to be mixed. And if some of the cases upon which designed misrepresentation could not be charged were not at the time satisfactorily accounted for, it was because the efficacy of strong spasmodic affections was not then sufficiently known. Finally, the cause of Jansenism did not rise by the miracles, but sunk, although the miracles had the anterior persuasion of all the numerous adherents of that cause to set out with. These, let us remember, are the strongest examples which the history of ages supplies. In none of them was the miracle unequivocal; by none of them were established prejudices and persuasions overthrown; of none of them did the credit make its way, in opposition to authority and power; by none of them were many induced to commit themselves, and that in contradiction to prior opinions, to a life of mortification, danger, and sufferings; none were called upon to attest them at the expense of their fortunes and safety.* _________ * It may be thought that the historian of the Parisian miracles, M. Montgeron, forms an exception to this last assertion. He presented his book (with a suspicion, as it should seem, of the danger of what he was doing) to the king; and was shortly afterwards committed to prison; from which he never came out. Had the miracles been unequivocal, and had M. Montgeron been originally convinced by them, I should have allowed this exception. It would have stood, I think, alone in the argument of our adversaries. But, beside what has been observed of the dubious nature of the miracles, the account which M. Montgeron has himself left of his conversion shows both the state of his mind and that his persuasion was not built upon external miracles.--"Scarcely had he entered the churchyard when he was struck," he tells us, "with awe and reverence, having never before heard prayers pronounced with so much ardour and transport as he observed amongst the supplicants at the tomb. Upon this, throwing himself on his knees, resting his elbows on the tombstone and covering his face with his hands, he spake the following prayer. O thou, by whose intercession so many miracles are said to be performed, if it be true that a part of thee surviveth the grave, and that thou hast influence with the Almighty, have pity on the darkness of my understanding, and through his mercy obtain the removal of it." Having prayed thus, "many thoughts," as he sayeth, "began to open themselves to his mind; and so profound was his attention that he continued on his knees four hours, not in the least disturbed by the vast crowd of surrounding supplicants. During this time, all the arguments which he ever heard or read in favour of Christianity occurred to him with so much force, and seemed so strong and convincing, that he went home fully satisfied of the truth of religion in general, and of the holiness and power of that person who," as he supposed, "had engaged the Divine Goodness to enlighten his understanding so suddenly." (Douglas's Crit of Mir. p. 214.) _________ PART II. OF THE AUXILIARY EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY CHAPTER I. PROPHECY. Isaiah iii. 13; liii. "Behold, my servant shall deal prudently; he shall be exalted and extolled, and be very high. As many were astonished at thee; his visage was so marred more than any man, and his form more than the sons of men: so shall he sprinkle many nations; the kings shall shut their mouths at him: for that which had not been told them shall they see; and that which they had not heard shall they consider. Who hath believed our report? and to whom is the arm of the Lord revealed? For he shall grow up before him as a tender plant, and as a root out of a dry ground: he hath no form nor comeliness; and when we shall see him, there is no beauty that we should desire him. He is despised and rejected of men, a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief: and we hid, as it were, our faces from him: he was despised, and we esteemed him not. Surely he hath borne our griefs, and carried our sorrows: yet we did esteem him stricken, smitten of God, and afflicted. But he was wounded for our transgressions, he was bruised for our iniquities, the chastisement of our peace was upon him; and with his stripes we are healed. All we like sheep have gone astray; we have turned every one to his own way; and the Lord hath laid on him the iniquity of us all. He was oppressed, and he was afflicted, yet he opened not his mouth: he is brought as a lamb to the slaughter, and as a sheep before her shearers is dumb, so he opened not his mouth. He was taken from prison and from judgment; and who shall declare his generation? for he was cut off out of the land of the living: for the transgression of my people was he stricken. And he made his grave with the wicked, and with the rich in his death; because he had done no violence, neither was any deceit in his mouth. Yet it pleased the Lord to bruise him; he hath put him to grief. When thou shalt make his soul an offering for sin, he shall see his seed, he shall prolong his days, and the pleasure of the Lord shall prosper in his hand. He shall see of the travail of his soul, and shall be satisfied: by his knowledge shall my righteous servant justify many; for he shall bear their iniquities. Therefore will I divide him a portion with the great, and he shall divide the spoil with the strong; because he hath poured out his soul unto death; and he was numbered with the transgressors, and he bare the sin of many, and made intercession for the transgressors." These words are extant in a book purporting to contain the predictions of a writer who lived seven centuries before the Christian era. That material part of every argument from prophecy, namely, that the words alleged were actually spoken or written before the fact to which they are applied took place, or could by any natural means be foreseen, is, in the present instance, incontestable. The record comes out of the custody of adversaries. The Jews, as an ancient father well observed, are our librarians. The passage is in their copies as well as in ours. With many attempts to explain it away, none has ever been made by them to discredit its authenticity. And what adds to the force of the quotation is, that it is taken from a writing declaredly prophetic; a writing professing to describe such future transactions and changes in the world as were connected with the fate and interests of the Jewish nation. It is not a passage in an historical or devotional composition, which, because it turns out to be applicable to some future events, or to some future situation of affairs, is presumed to have been oracular. The words of Isaiah were delivered by him in a prophetic character, with the solemnity belonging to that character: and what he so delivered was all along understood by the Jewish reader to refer to something that was to take place after the time of the author. The public sentiments of the Jews concerning the design of Isaiah's writings are set forth in the book of Ecclesiasticus:* "He saw by an excellent spirit what should come to pass at the last, and he comforted them that mourned in Sion. He showed what should come to pass for ever, and secret things or ever they came." _________ * Chap. xlviii. ver. 24. _________ It is also an advantage which this prophecy possesses, that it is intermixed with no other subject. It is entire, separate, and uninterruptedly directed to one scene of things. The application of the prophecy to the evangelic history is plain and appropriate. Here is no double sense; no figurative language but what is sufficiently intelligible to every reader of every country. The obscurities (by which I mean the expressions that require a knowledge of local diction, and of local allusion) are few, and not of great importance. Nor have I found that varieties of reading, or a different construing of the original, produce any material alteration in the sense of the prophecy. Compare the common translation with that of Bishop Lowth, and the difference is not considerable. So far as they do differ, Bishop Lowth's corrections, which are the faithful result of an accurate examination, bring the description nearer to the New Testament history than it was before. In the fourth verse of the fifty-third chapter, what our bible renders "stricken" he translates "judicially stricken:" and in the eighth verse, the clause "he was taken from prison and from judgment," the bishop gives "by an oppressive judgment he was taken off." The next words to these, "who shall declare his generation?" are much cleared up in their meaning by the bishop's version; "his manner of life who would declare?" i. e. who would stand forth in his defence? The former part of the ninth verse, "and he made his grave with the wicked, and with the rich in his death," which inverts the circumstances of Christ's passion, the bishop brings out in an order perfectly agreeable to the event; "and his grave was appointed with the wicked, but with the rich man was his tomb." The words in the eleventh verse, "by his knowledge shall my righteous servant justify many," are, in the bishop's version, "by the knowledge of him shall my righteous servant justify many." It is natural to inquire what turn the Jews themselves give to this prophecy.* There is good proof that the ancient Rabbins explained it of their expected Messiah:+ but their modern expositors concur, I think, in representing it as a description of the calamitous state, and intended restoration, of the Jewish people, who are here, as they say, exhibited under the character of a single person. I have not discovered that their exposition rests upon any critical arguments, or upon these in any other than in a very minute degree. _________ * "Vaticinium hoc Esaiae est carnificina Rabbinorum, de quo aliqui Judaei mihi confessi sunt, Rabbinos suos ex propheticis scripturis facile se extricare potuisse, modo; Esaias tacuisset." Hulse, Theol. Jud. P. 318, quoted by Poole, in loc. + Hulse, Theol. Jud. p. 430. _________ The clause in the ninth verse, which we render "for the transgression of my people was he stricken," and in the margin, "was the stroke upon him," the Jews read "for the transgression of my people was the stroke upon them." And what they allege in support of the alteration amounts only to this, that the Hebrew pronoun is capable of a plural as well as of a singular signification; that is to say, is capable of their construction as well as ours.* And this is all the variation contended for; the rest of the prophecy they read as we do. The probability, therefore, of their exposition is a subject of which we are as capable of judging as themselves. This judgment is open indeed to the good sense of every attentive reader. The application which the Jews contend for appears to me to labour under insuperable difficulties; in particular, it may be demanded of them to explain in whose name or person, if the Jewish people he the sufferer, does the prophet speak, when he says, "He hath borne our griefs, and carried our sorrows, yet we did esteem him stricken, smitten of God, and afflicted; but he was wounded for our transgressions, he was bruised for our iniquities, the chastisement of our peace was upon him, and with his stripes we are healed." Again, the description in the seventh verse, "he was oppressed and he was afflicted, yet he opened not his mouth; he is brought as a lamb to the slaughter, and as a sheep before her shearers is dumb, so he opened not his mouth," quadrates with no part of the Jewish history with which we are acquainted. The mention of the "grave" and the "tomb," in the ninth verse, is not very applicable to the fortunes of a nation; and still less so is the conclusion of the prophecy in the twelfth verse, which expressly represents the sufferings as voluntary, and the sufferer as interceding for the offenders; "because he hath poured out his soul unto death, and he was numbered with the transgressors, and he bare the sin of many, and made intercession for the transgressors." _________ * Bishop Lowth adopts in this place the reading of the seventy, which gives smitten to death, "for the transgression of my people was he smitten to death." The addition of the words "to death" makes an end of the Jewish interpretation of the clause. And the authority upon which this reading (though not given by the present Hebrew text) is adopted, Dr. Kennicot has set forth by an argument not only so cogent, but so clear and popular, that I beg leave to transcribe the substance of it into this note:--"Origen, after having quoted at large this prophecy concerning the Messiah, tells us that, having once made use of this passage, in a dispute against some that were accounted wise amongst the Jews, one of them replied that the words did not mean one man, but one people, the Jews, who were smitten of God, and dispersed among the Gentiles for their conversion; that he then urged many parts of this prophecy to show the absurdity of this interpretation, and that he seemed to press them the hardest by this sentence,--'for the transgression of my people was he smitten to death.'" Now as Origen, the author of the Hexapla, must have understood Hebrew, we cannot suppose that he would have urged this last text as so decisive, if the Greek version had not agreed here with the Hebrew text; nor that these wise Jews would have been at all distressed by this quotation, unless the Hebrew text had read agreeably to the words "to death," on which the argument principally depended; for by quoting it immediately, they would have triumphed over him, and reprobated his Greek version. This, whenever they could do it was their constant practice in their disputes with the Christians. Origen himself, who laboriously compared the Hebrew text with the Septuagint, has recorded the necessity of arguing with the Jews from such passages only as were in the Septuagint agreeable to the Hebrew. Wherefore, as Origen had carefully compared the Greek version of the Septuagint with the Hebrew text; and as he puzzled and confounded the learned Jews, by urging upon them the reading "to death" in this place; it seems almost impossible not to conclude, both from Origen's argument and the silence of his Jewish adversaries, that the Hebrew text at that time actually had the word agreeably to the version of the seventy. Lowth's Isaiah, p. 242. _________ There are other prophecies of the Old Testament, interpreted by Christians to relate to the Gospel history, which are deserving both of great regard and of a very attentive consideration: but I content myself with stating the above, as well because I think it the clearest and the strongest of all, as because most of the rest, in order that their value might be represented with any tolerable degree of fidelity, require a discussion unsuitable to the limits and nature of this work. The reader will find them disposed in order, and distinctly explained, in Bishop Chandler's treatise on the subject; and he will bear in mind, what has been often, and, I think, truly, urged by the advocates of Christianity, that there is no other eminent person to the history of whose life so many circumstances can be made to apply. They who object that much has been done by the power of chance, the ingenuity of accommodation, and the industry of research, ought to try whether the same, or anything like it, could be done, if Mahomet, or any other person, were proposed as the subject of Jewish prophecy. II. A second head of argument from prophecy is founded upon our Lord's predictions concerning the destruction of Jerusalem, recorded by three out of the four evangelists. Luke xxi. 5-25. "And as some spake of the temple, how it was adorned with goodly stones and gifts, he said, As for these things which ye behold, the days will come in which there shall not be left one stone upon another, that shall not be thrown down. And they asked him, saying, Master, but when shall these things be? and what sign will there be when these things shall come to pass? And he said, Take heed that ye be not deceived; for many shall come in my name, saying, I am Christ; and the time draweth near; go ye not therefore after them. But when ye shall hear of wars and commotions, be not terrified: for these things must first come to pass; but the end is not by-and-by. Then said he unto them, Nation shall rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom; and great earth-quakes shall be in divers places, and famines and pestilences; and fearful sights, and great signs shall there be from heaven. But before all these, they shall lay their hands on you, and persecute you, delivering you up to the synagogues, and into prisons, being brought before kings and rulers for my name's sake. And it shall turn to you for a testimony. Settle it therefore in your hearts not to meditate before what ye shall answer: for I will give you a mouth and wisdom, which all your adversaries shall not be able to gainsay nor resist. And ye shall be betrayed both by parents, and brethren, and kinsfolk, and friends; and some of you shall they cause to be put to death. And ye shall be hated of all men for my name's sake. But there shall not an hair of your head perish. In your patience possess ye your souls. And when ye shall see Jerusalem compassed with armies, then know that the desolation thereof is nigh. Then let them which are in Judea flee to the mountains; and let them which are in the midst of it depart out; and let not them that are in the countries enter thereinto. For these be the days of vengeance, that all things which are written may be fulfilled. But woe unto them that are with child and to them that give suck in those days: for there shall be great distress in the land, and wrath upon this people. And they shall fall by the edge of the sword, and shall be led away captive into all nations: and Jerusalem shall be trodden down by the Gentiles, until the times of the Gentiles be fulfilled." In terms nearly similar, this discourse is related in the twenty-fourth chapter of Matthew and the thirteenth of Mark. The prospect of the same evils drew from our Saviour, on another occasion, the following affecting expressions of concern, which are preserved by St. Luke (xix. 41--44): "And when he was come near, he beheld the city and wept over it, saying, If thou hadst known, even thou, at least in this thy day, the things which belong unto thy peace! but now they are hid from thine eyes. For the day shall come upon thee, that thine enemies shall cast a trench about thee, and compass thee round and keep thee in on every side, and shall lay thee even with the ground, and thy children within thee; and they shall not leave in thee one stone upon another; because thou knowest not the time of thy visitation"--These passages are direct and explicit predictions. References to the same event, some plain, some parabolical, or otherwise figurative, are found in divers other discourses of our Lord. (Matt. xxi. 33-46; xxii. 1-7. Mark xii. 1-12. Luke xiii. 1-9; xx. 9-20; xxi. 5-13.) The general agreement of the description with the event, viz. with the ruin of the Jewish nation, and the capture of Jerusalem under Vespasian, thirty-six years after Christ's death, is most evident; and the accordancy in various articles of detail and circumstances has been shown by many learned writers. It is also an advantage to the inquiry, and to the argument built upon it, that we have received a copious account of the transaction from Josephus, a Jewish and contemporary historian. This part of the case is perfectly free from doubt. The only question which, in my opinion, can be raised upon the subject is, whether the prophecy was really delivered before the event? I shall apply, therefore, my observations to this point solely. 1. The judgment of antiquity, though varying in the precise year of the publication of the three Gospels, concurs in assigning them a date prior to the destruction of Jerusalem. (Lardner, vol. xiii.) 2. This judgment is confirmed by a strong probability arising from the course of human life. The destruction of Jerusalem took place in the seventieth year after the birth of Christ. The three evangelists, one of whom was his immediate companion, and the other two associated with his companions, were, it is probable, not much younger than he was. They must, consequently, have been far advanced in life when Jerusalem was taken; and no reason has been given why they should defer writing their histories so long. 3. (Le Clerc, Diss. III. de Quat. Evang. num. vii. p. 541.) If the evangelists, at the time of writing the Gospels, had known of the destruction of Jerusalem, by which catastrophe the prophecies were plainly fulfilled, it is most probable that, in recording the predictions, they would have dropped some word or other about the completion; in like manner as Luke, after relating the denunciation of a dearth by Agabus, adds, "which came to pass in the days of Claudius Caesar;" (Acts xi. 28.) whereas the prophecies are given distinctly in one chapter of each of the first three Gospels, and referred to in several different passages of each, and in none of all these places does there appear the smallest intimation that the things spoken of had come to pass. I do admit that it would have been the part of an impostor, who wished his readers to believe that this book was written before the event, when in truth it was written after it, to have suppressed any such intimation carefully. But this was not the character of the authors of the Gospel. Cunning was no quality of theirs. Of all writers in the world, they thought the least of providing against objections. Moreover, there is no clause in any one of them that makes a profession of their having written prior to the Jewish wars, which a fraudulent purpose would have led them to pretend. They have done neither one thing nor the other; they have neither inserted any words which might signify to the reader that their accounts were written before the destruction of Jerusalem, which a sophist would have done; nor have they dropped a hint of the completion of the prophecies recorded by them, which an undesigning writer, writing after the event, could hardly, on some or other of the many occasions that presented themselves, have missed of doing. 4. The admonitions* which Christ is represented to have given to his followers to save themselves by flight are not easily accounted for on the supposition of the prophecy being fabricated after the event. Either the Christians, when the siege approached, did make their escape from Jerusalem, or they did not: if they did, they must have had the prophecy amongst them: if they did not know of any such prediction at the time of the siege, if they did not take notice of any such warning, it was an improbable fiction, in a writer publishing his work near to that time (which, on any, even the lowest and most disadvantageous supposition, was the case with the gospels now in our hands), and addressing his work to Jews and to Jewish converts (which Matthew certainly did), to state that the followers of Christ had received admonition of which they made no use when the occasion arrived, and of which experience then recent proved that those who were most concerned to know and regard them were ignorant or negligent. Even if the prophecies came to the hands of the evangelists through no better vehicle than tradition, it must have been by a tradition which subsisted prior to the event. And to suppose that without any authority whatever, without so much as even any tradition to guide them, they had forged these passages, is to impute to them a degree of fraud and imposture from every appearance of which their compositions are as far removed as possible. _________ * "When ye shall see Jerusalem compassed with armies, then know that the desolation thereof is nigh; then let them which are in Judea flee to the mountains; then let them which are in the midst of it depart out, and let not them that are in the countries enter thereinto."--Luke xxi. 20, 21. "When ye shall see Jerusalem compassed with armies, then let them which be in Judea flee unto the mountains; let him which is on the house-top not come down to take anything out of his house; neither let him which is in the field return back to take his clothes."--Matt. xiv. 18. _________ 5. I think that, if the prophecies had been composed after the event, there would have been more specification. The names or descriptions of the enemy, the general, the emperor, would have been found in them. The designation of the time would have been more determinate. And I am fortified in this opinion by observing that the counterfeited prophecies of the Sibylline oracles, of the twelve patriarchs, and, I am inclined to believe, most others of the kind, are mere transcripts of the history, moulded into a prophetic form. It is objected that the prophecy of the destruction of Jerusalem is mixed or connected with expressions which relate to the final judgment of the world; and so connected as to lead an ordinary reader to expect that these two events would not be far distant from each other. To which I answer, that the objection does not concern our present argument. If our Saviour actually foretold the destruction of Jerusalem, it is sufficient; even although we should allow that the narration of the prophecy had combined what had been said by him on kindred subjects, without accurately preserving the order, or always noticing the transition of the discourse. CHAPTER II. THE MORALITY OF THE GOSPEL. Is stating the morality of the Gospel as an argument of its truth, I am willing to admit two points; first, that the teaching of morality was not the primary design of the mission; secondly, that morality, neither in the Gospel, nor in any other book, can be a subject, properly speaking, of discovery. If I were to describe in a very few words the scope of Christianity as a revelation,* I should say that it was to influence the conduct of human life, by establishing the proof of a future state of reward and punishment,--"to bring life and immortality to light." The direct object, therefore, of the design is, to supply motives, and not rules; sanctions, and not precepts. And these were what mankind stood most in need of. The members of civilised society can, in all ordinary cases, judge tolerably well how they ought to act: but without a future state, or, which is the same thing, without credited evidence of that state, they want a motive to their duty; they want at least strength of motive sufficient to bear up against the force of passion, and the temptation of present advantage. Their rules want authority. The most important service that can be rendered to human life, and that consequently which one might expect beforehand would be the great end and office of a revelation from God, is to convey to the world authorised assurances of the reality of a future existence. And although in doing this, or by the ministry of the same person by whom this is done, moral precepts or examples, or illustrations of moral precepts, may be occasionally given and be highly valuable, yet still they do not form the original purpose of the mission. _________ * Great and inestimably beneficial effects may accrue from the mission of Christ, and especially from his death, which do not belong to Christianity as a revelation: that is, they might have existed, and they might have been accomplished, though we had never, in this life, been made acquainted with them. These effects may be very extensive; they may be interesting even to other orders of intelligent beings. I think it is a general opinion, and one to which I have long come, that the beneficial effects of Christ's death extend to the whole human species. It was the redemption of the world. "He is the propitiation for our sins, and not for ours only, but for the whole world;" 1 John ii. 2. Probably the future happiness, perhaps the future existence of the species, and more gracious terms of acceptance extended to all, might depend upon it or be procured by it. Now these effects, whatever they be, do not belong to Christianity as a revelation; because they exist with respect to those to whom it is not revealed. _________ Secondly; morality, neither in the Gospel nor in any other book, can be a subject of discovery, properly so called. By which proposition I mean that there cannot, in morality, be anything similar to what are called discoveries in natural philosophy, in the arts of life, and in some sciences; as the system of the universe, the circulation of the blood, the polarity of the magnet, the laws of gravitation, alphabetical writing, decimal arithmetic, and some other things of the same sort; facts, or proofs, or contrivances, before totally unknown and unthought of. Whoever, therefore, expects in reading the New Testament to be struck with discoveries in morals in the manner in which his mind was affected when he first came to the knowledge of the discoveries above mentioned: or rather in the manner in which the world was affected by them, when they were first published; expects what, as I apprehend, the nature of the subject renders it impossible that he should meet with. And the foundation of my opinion is this, that the qualities of actions depend entirely upon their effects, which effects must all along have been the subject of human experience. When it is once settled, no matter upon what principle, that to do good is virtue, the rest is calculation. But since the calculation cannot be instituted concerning each particular action, we establish intermediate rules; by which proceeding, the business of morality is much facilitated, for then it is concerning our rules alone that we need inquire, whether in their tendency they be beneficial; concerning our actions, we have only to ask whether they be agreeable to the rules. We refer actions to rules, and rules to public happiness. Now, in the formation of these rules, there is no place for discovery, properly so called, but there is ample room for the exercise of wisdom, judgment, and prudence. As I wish to deliver argument rather than panegyric, I shall treat of the morality of the Gospel in subjection to these observations. And after all, I think it such a morality as, considering from whom it came, is most extraordinary; and such as, without allowing some degree of reality to the character and pretensions of the religion, it is difficult to account for: or, to place the argument a little lower in the scale, it is such a morality as completely repels the supposition of its being the tradition of a barbarous age or of a barbarous people, of the religion being founded in folly, or of its being the production of craft; and it repels also, in a great degree, the supposition of its having been the effusion of an enthusiastic mind. The division under which the subject may be most conveniently treated is that of the things taught, and the manner of teaching. Under the first head, I should willingly, if the limits and nature of my work admitted of it, transcribe into this chapter the whole of what has been said upon the morality of the Gospel by the author of The Internal Evidence of Christianity; because it perfectly agrees with my own opinion, and because it is impossible to say the same things so well. This acute observer of human nature, and, as I believe, sincere convert to Christianity, appears to me to have made out satisfactorily the two following positions, viz.-- I. That the Gospel omits some qualifies which have usually engaged the praises and admiration of mankind, but which, in reality, and in their general effects, have been Prejudicial to human happiness. II. That the Gospel has brought forward some virtues which possess the highest intrinsic value, but which have commonly been overlooked and contemned. The first of these propositions he exemplifies in the instances of friendship, patriotism, active courage; in the sense in which these qualities are usually understood, and in the conduct which they often produce. The second, in the instances of passive courage or endurance of sufferings, patience under affronts and injuries, humility, irresistance, placability. The truth is, there are two opposite descriptions of character under which mankind may generally be classed. The one possesses rigour, firmness, resolution; is daring and active, quick in its sensibilities, jealous of its fame, eager in its attachments, inflexible in its purpose, violent in its resentments. The other meek, yielding, complying, forgiving; not prompt to act, but willing to suffer; silent and gentle under rudeness and insult, suing for reconciliation where others would demand satisfaction, giving way to the pushes of impudence, conceding and indulgent to the prejudices, the wrong-headedness, the intractability of those with whom it has to deal. The former of these characters is, and ever hath been, the favourite of the world. It is the character of great men. There is a dignity in it which universally commands respect. The latter is poor-spirited, tame, and abject. Yet so it hath happened, that with the Founder of Christianity this latter is the subject of his commendation, his precepts, his example; and that the former is so in no part of its composition. This, and nothing else, is the character designed in the following remarkable passages: "Resist not evil: but whosoever shall smite thee on the right cheek, turn to him the other also; and if any man will sue thee at the law, and take away thy coat, let him have thy cloak also: and whosoever shall compel thee to go a mile, go with him twain: love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you, and pray for them which despitefully use you and persecute you." This certainly is not commonplace morality. It is very original. It shows at least (and it is for this purpose we produce it) that no two things can be more different than the Heroic and the Christian characters. Now the author to whom I refer has not only marked this difference more strongly than any preceding writer, but has proved, in contradiction to first impressions, to popular opinion, to the encomiums of orators and poets, and even to the suffrages of historians and moralists, that the latter character possesses the most of true worth, both as being most difficult either to be acquired or sustained, and as contributing most to the happiness and tranquillity of social life. The state of his argument is as follows: I. If this disposition were universal, the case is clear; the world would be a society of friends. Whereas, if the other disposition were universal, it would produce a scene of universal contention. The world could not hold a generation of such men. II. If, what is the fact, the disposition be partial; if a few be actuated by it, amongst a multitude who are not; in whatever degree it does prevail, in the same proportion it prevents, allays, and terminates quarrels, the great disturbers of human happiness, and the great sources of human misery, so far as man's happiness and misery depend upon man. Without this disposition enmities must not only be frequent, but, once begun, must be eternal: for, each retaliation being a fresh injury, and consequently requiring a fresh satisfaction, no period can be assigned to the reciprocation of affronts, and to the progress of hatred, but that which closes the lives, or at least the intercourse, of the parties. I would only add to these observations, that although the former of the two characters above described may be occasionally useful; although, perhaps, a great general, or a great statesman, may be formed by it, and these may be instruments of important benefits to mankind, yet is this nothing more than what is true of many qualities which are acknowledged to be vicious. Envy is a quality of this sort: I know not a stronger stimulus to exertion; many a scholar, many an artist, many a soldier, has been produced by it; nevertheless, since in its general effects it is noxious, it is properly condemned, certainly is not praised, by sober moralists. It was a portion of the same character as that we are defending, or rather of his love of the same character, which our Saviour displayed in his repeated correction of the ambition of his disciples; his frequent admonitions that greatness with them was to consist in humility; his censure of that love of distinction and greediness of superiority which the chief persons amongst his countrymen were wont, on all occasions, great and little, to betray. "They (the Scribes and Pharisees) love the uppermost rooms at feasts, and the chief seats in the synagogues, and greetings in the markets, and to be called of men Rabbi, Rabbi. But be not ye called Rabbi, for one is your Master, even Christ, and all ye are brethren: and call no man your father upon the earth, for one is your father, which is in heaven; neither be ye called master, for one is your Master, even Christ; but he that is greatest among you shall be your servant; and whosoever shall exalt himself shall be abased, and he that shall humble himself shall be exalted." (Matt. xxiii. 6. See also Mark xii. 39; Luke xx. 46; xiv. 7.) I make no further remark upon these passages (because they are, in truth, only a repetition of the doctrine, different expressions of the principle, which we have already stated), except that some of the passages, especially our Lord's advice to the guests at an entertainment, (Luke iv. 7.) seem to extend the rule to what we call manners; which was both regular in point of consistency, and not so much beneath the dignity of our Lord's mission as may at first sight be supposed, for bad manners are bad morals. It is sufficiently apparent that the precepts we have tired, or rather the disposition which these precepts inculcate, relate to personal conduct from personal motives; to cases in which men act from impulse, for themselves and from themselves. When it comes to be considered what is necessary to be done for the sake of the public, and out of a regard to the general welfare (which consideration, for the most part, ought exclusively to govern the duties of men in public stations), it comes to a case to which the rules do not belong. This distinction is plain; and if it were less so the consequence would not be much felt: for it is very seldom that in time intercourse of private life men act with public views. The personal motives from which they do act the rule regulates. The preference of time patient to the heroic cheer, which we have here noticed, and which the reader will find explained at large in the work to which we have referred him, is a peculiarity in the Christian institution, which I propose as an argument of wisdom, very much beyond the situation and natural character of the person who delivered it. II. A second argument, drawn from the morality of the New Testament, is the stress which is laid by our Saviour upon the regulation of the thoughts; and I place this consideration next to the other because they are connected. The other related to the malicious passions; this to the voluptuous. Together, they comprehend the whole character. "Out of the heart proceed evil thoughts, murders, adulteries, fornications," &c. "These are the things which defile a man." (Matt. xv. 19.) "Wo unto you, Scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! for ye make clean the outside of the cup and of the platter, but within they are full of extortion and excess.--Ye are like unto whited sepulchres, which indeed appear beautiful outward, but are within full of dead men's bones, and of all uncleanness; even so ye also outwardly appear righteous unto men, but within ye are full of hypocrisy and iniquity" (Matt. xxiii. 25, 27) And more particularly that strong expression, (Matt. v. 28.) "Whosoever looketh on a woman to lust after her, hath committed adultery with her already in his heart." There can be no doubt with any reflecting mind but that the propensities of our nature must be subject to regulation; but the question is, where the check ought to be placed, upon the thought, or only upon the action? In this question our Saviour, in the texts here quoted, has pronounced a decisive judgment. He makes the control of thought essential. Internal purity with him is everything. Now I contend that this is the only discipline which can succeed; in other words, that a moral system which prohibits actions, but leaves the thoughts at liberty, will be ineffectual, and is therefore unwise. I know not how to go about the proof of a point which depends upon experience, and upon a knowledge of the human constitution, better than by citing the judgment of persons who appear to have given great attention to the subject, and to be well qualified to form a true opinion about it. Boerhaave, speaking of this very declaration of our Saviour, "Whosoever looketh on a woman to lust after her, hath already committed adultery with her in his heart," and understanding it, as we do, to contain an injunction to lay the check upon the thoughts, was wont to say that "our Saviour knew mankind better than Socrates." Hailer, who has recorded this saying of Boerhaave, adds to it the following remarks of his own:--(Letters to his Daughter.) "It did not escape the observation of our Saviour that the rejection of any evil thoughts was the best defence against vice: for when a debauched person fills his imagination with impure pictures, the licentious ideas which he recalls fail not to stimulate his desires with a degree of violence which he cannot resist. This will be followed by gratification, unless some external obstacle should prevent him from the commission of a sin which he had internally resolved on." "Every moment of time," says our author, "that is spent in meditations upon sin increases the power of the dangerous object which has possessed our imagination." I suppose these reflections will be generally assented to. III. Thirdly, had a teacher of morality been asked concerning a general principle of conduct, and for a short rule of life; and had he instructed the person who consulted him, "constantly to refer his actions to what he believed to be the will of his Creator, and constantly to have in view not his own interest and gratification alone, but the happiness and comfort of those about him," he would have been thought, I doubt not, in any age of the world, and in any, even the most improved state of morals, to have delivered a judicious answer; because, by the first direction, he suggested the only motive which acts steadily and uniformly, in sight and out of sight, in familiar occurrences and under pressing temptations; and in the second he corrected what of all tendencies in the human character stands most in need of correction, selfishness, or a contempt of other men's conveniency and satisfaction. In estimating the value of a moral rule, we are to have regard not only to the particular duty, but the general spirit; not only to what it directs us to do, but to the character which a compliance with its direction is likely to form in us. So, in the present instance, the rule here recited will never fail to make him who obeys it considerate not only of the rights, but of the feelings of other men, bodily and mental, in great matters and in small; of the ease, the accommodation, the self-complacency of all with whom he has any concern, especially of all who are in his power, or dependent upon his will. Now what, in the most applauded philosopher of the most enlightened age of the world, would have been deemed worthy of his wisdom, and of his character, to say, our Saviour hath said, and upon just such an occasion as that which we have feigned. "Then one of them, which was a lawyer, asked him a question, tempting him, and saying, Master, which is the great commandment in the law? Jesus said unto him, Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy mind; this is the first and great commandment: and the second is like unto it, Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself: on these two commandments hang all the law and the prophets." (Matt. xxii. 35-40.) The second precept occurs in St. Matthew (xix. 16), on another occasion similar to this; and both of them, on a third similar occasion, in Luke (x. 27). In these two latter instances the question proposed was, "What shall I do to inherit eternal life?" Upon all these occasions I consider the words of our Saviour as expressing precisely the same thing as what I have put into the mouth of the moral philosopher. Nor do I think that it detracts much from the merit of the answer, that these precepts are extant in the Mosaic code: for his laying his finger, if I may so say, upon these precepts; his drawing them out from the rest of that voluminous institution; his stating of them, not simply amongst the number, but as the greatest and the sum of all the others; in a word, his proposing of them to his hearers for their rule and principle, was our Saviour's own. And what our Saviour had said upon the subject appears to me to have fixed the sentiment amongst his followers. Saint Paul has it expressly, "If there be any other commandment, it is briefly comprehended in this saying, Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself;" (Rom. xiii. 9.) and again, "For all the law is fulfilled in one word, even in this, Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself." (Gal. v. 14.) Saint John, in like manner, "This commandment have we from him, that he who loveth God love his brother also." (1 John iv. 21.) Saint Peter, not very differently: "Seeing that ye have purified your souls in obeying the truth through the Spirit, unto unfeigned love of the brethren, see that ye love one another with a pure heart fervently." (I Peter i, 22.) And it is so well known as to require no citations to verify it, that this love, or charity, or, in other words, regard to the welfare of others, runs in various forms through all the preceptive parts of the apostolic writings. It is the theme of all their exhortations, that with which their morality begins and ends, from which all their details and enumerations set out, and into which they return. And that this temper, for some time at least, descended in its purity to succeeding Christians, is attested by one of the earliest and best of the remaining writings of the apostolical fathers, the epistle of the Roman Clement. The meekness of the Christian character reigns throughout the whole of that excellent piece. The occasion called for it. It was to compose the dissensions of the church of Corinth. And the venerable hearer of the apostles does not fall short, in the display of this principle, of the finest passages of their writings. He calls to the remembrance of the Corinthian church its former character in which "ye were all of you," he tells them, "humble-minded, not boasting of anything, desiring rather to be subject than to govern, to give than to receive, being content with the portion God had dispensed to you and hearkening diligently to his word; ye were enlarged in your bowels, having his sufferings always before your eyes. Ye contended day and night for the whole brotherhood, that with compassion and a good conscience the number of his elect might be saved. Ye were sincere, and without offence towards each other. Ye bewailed every one his neighbour's sins, esteeming their defects your own." His prayer for them was for the "return of peace, long-suffering, and patience." (Ep. Clem. Rom. c. 2 & 53; Abp. Wake's Translation.) And his advice to those who might have been the occasion of difference in the society is conceived in the true spirit, and with a perfect knowledge of the Christian character: "Who is there among you that is generous? who that is compassionate? Who that has any charity? Let him say, If this sedition, this contention, and these schisms be upon my account, I am ready to depart, to go away whithersoever ye please, and do whatsoever ye shall command me; only let the flock of Christ be in peace with the elders who are set over it. He that shall do this shall get to himself a very great honour in the Lord; and there is no place but what will he ready to receive him; for the earth is the Lord's and the fullness thereof. These things they who have their conversation towards God, not to be repented of, both have done, and will always be ready to do." (Ep. Clem. Rom. c. 54; Abp. Wake's Translation.) This sacred principle, this earnest recommendation of forbearance, lenity, and forgiveness, mixes with all the writings of that age. There are more quotations in the apostolical fathers of texts which relate to these points than of any other. Christ's sayings had struck them. "Not rendering," said Polycarp, the disciple of John, "evil for evil, or railing for railing, or striking for striking, or cursing for cursing." Again, speaking of some whose behaviour had given great offence, "Be ye moderate," says he, "on this occasion, and look not upon such as enemies, but call them back as suffering and erring members, that ye save your whole body." (Pol. Ep. ad Phil. c. 2 & 11.) "Be ye mild at their anger," saith Ignatius, the companion of Polycarp, "humble at their boastings, to their blasphemies return your prayers, to their error your firmness in the faith; when they are cruel, be ye gentle; not endeavouring to imitate their ways, let us be their brethren in all kindness and moderation: but let us be followers of the Lord; for who was ever more unjustly used, more destitute, more despised?" IV. A fourth quality by which the morality of the Gospel is distinguished is the exclusion of regard to fame and reputation. "Take heed that ye do not your alms before men, to be seen of them, otherwise ye have no reward of your father which is in heaven." "When thou prayest, enter into thy closet, and when thou hast shut the door, pray to thy father which is in secret; and thy Father which seeth in secret shall reward thee openly." (Matt. vi. 1 & 6.) And the rule, by parity of reason, is extended to all other virtues. I do not think that either in these or in any other passage of the New Testament, the pursuit of fame is stated as a vice; it is only said that an action, to be virtuous, must be independent of it. I would also observe that it is not publicity, but ostentation, which is prohibited; not the mode, but the motive of the action, which is regulated. A good man will prefer that mode, as well as those objects of his beneficence, by which he can produce the greatest effect; and the view of this purpose may dictate sometimes publication, and sometimes concealment. Either the one or the other may be the mode of the action, according as the end to be promoted by it appears to require. But from the motive, the reputation of the deed, and the fruits and advantage of that reputation to ourselves, must be shut out, or, in whatever proportion they are not so, the action in that proportion fails of being virtuous. This exclusion of regard to human opinion is a difference not so much in the duties to which the teachers of virtue would persuade mankind, as in the manner and topics of persuasion. And in this view the difference is great. When we set about to give advice, our lectures are full of the advantages of character, of the regard that is due to appearances and to opinion; of what the world, especially of what the good or great, will think and say; of the value of public esteem, and of the qualities by which men acquire it. Widely different from this was our Saviour's instruction; and the difference was founded upon the best reasons. For, however the care of reputation, the authority of public opinion, or even of the opinion of good men, the satisfaction of being well received and well thought of, the benefit of being known and distinguished, are topics to which we are fain to have recourse in our exhortations; the true virtue is that which discards these considerations absolutely, and which retires from them all to the single internal purpose of pleasing God. This at least was the virtue which our Saviour taught. And in teaching this, he not only confined the views of his followers to the proper measure and principle of human duty, but acted in consistency with his office as a monitor from heaven. Next to what our Saviour taught, may be considered the manner of his teaching; which was extremely peculiar, yet, I think, precisely adapted to the peculiarity of his character and situation. His lessons did not consist of disquisitions; of anything like moral essays, or like sermons, or like set treatises upon the several points which he mentioned. When he delivered a precept, it was seldom that he added any proof or argument; still more seldom that he accompanied it with what all precepts require, limitations and distinctions. His instructions were conceived in short, emphatic, sententious rules, in occasional reflections, or in round maxims. I do not think that this was a natural, or would have been a proper method for a philosopher or a moralist; or that it is a method which can be successfully imitated by us. But I contend that it was suitable to the character which Christ assumed, and to the situation in which, as a teacher, he was placed. He produced himself as a messenger from God. He put the truth of what he taught upon authority. (I say unto you, Swear not at all; I say auto you, Resist not evil; I say unto you, Love your enemies.--Matt. v. 34, 39, 44.) In the choice, therefore, of his mode of teaching, the purpose by him to be consulted was impression: because conviction, which forms the principal end of our discourses, was to arise in the minds of his followers from a different source, from their respect to his person and authority. Now, for the purpose of impression singly and exclusively, (I repeat again, that we are not here to consider the convincing of the understanding,) I know nothing which would have so great force as strong ponderous maxims, frequently urged and frequently brought back to the thoughts of the hearers. I know nothing that could in this view be said better, than "Do unto others as ye would that others should do unto you:" "The first and great commandment is, Thou shalt love the Lord thy God: and the second is like unto it, Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself." It must also be remembered, that our Lord's ministry, upon the supposition either of one year or three, compared with his work, was of short duration; that, within this time, he had many places to visit, various audiences to address; that his person was generally besieged by crowds of followers; that he was, sometimes, driven away from the place where he was teaching by persecution, and at other times thought fit to withdraw himself from the commotions of the populace. Under these circumstances, nothing appears to have been so practicable, or likely to be so efficacious, as leaving, wherever he came, concise lessons of duty. These circumstances at least show the necessity he was under of comprising what he delivered within a small compass. In particular, his sermon upon the mount ought always to be considered with a view to these observations. The question is not, whether a fuller, a more accurate, a more systematic, or a more argumentative discourse upon morals might not have been pronounced; but whether more could have been said in the same room better adapted to the exigencies of the hearers, or better calculated for the purpose of impression? Seen in this light, it has always appeared to me to be admirable. Dr. Lardner thought that this discourse was made up of what Christ had said at different times, and on different occasions, several of which occasions are noticed in St Luke's narrative. I can perceive no reason for this opinion. I believe that our Lord delivered this discourse at one time and place, in the manner related by Saint Matthew, and that he repeated the same rules and maxims at different times, as opportunity or occasion suggested; that they were often in his mouth, and were repeated to different audiences, and in various conversations. It is incidental to this mode of moral instruction, which proceeds not by proof but upon authority, not by disquisition but by precept, that the rules will be conceived in absolute terms, leaving the application and the distinctions that attend it to the reason of the hearer. It is likewise to be expected that they will be delivered in terms by so much the more forcible and energetic, as they have to encounter natural or general propensities. It is further also to be remarked, that many of those strong instances which appear in our Lord's sermon, such as, "If any man will smite thee on the right cheek, turn to him the other also:" "If any man will sue thee at the law, and take away thy coat, let him have thy cloak also:" "Whosoever shall compel thee to go a mile, go with him twain:" though they appear in the form of specific precepts, are intended as descriptive of disposition and character. A specific compliance with the precepts would be of little value, but the disposition which they inculcate is of the highest. He who should content himself with waiting for the occasion, and with literally observing the rule when the occasion offered, would do nothing, or worse than nothing: but he who considers the character and disposition which is hereby inculcated, and places that disposition before him as the model to which he should bring his own, takes, perhaps, the best possible method of improving the benevolence, and of calming and rectifying the vices of his temper. If it be said that this disposition is unattainable, I answer, so is all perfection: ought therefore a moralist to recommend imperfections? One excellency, however, of our Saviour's rules is, that they are either never mistaken, or never so mistaken as to do harm. I could feign a hundred cases in which the literal application of the rule, "of doing to others as we would that others should do unto us," might mislead us; but I never yet met with the man who was actually misled by it. Notwithstanding that our Lord bade his followers, "not to resist evil," and to "forgive the enemy who should trespass against them, not till seven times, but till seventy times seven," the Christian world has hitherto suffered little by too much placability or forbearance. I would repeat once more, what has already been twice remarked, that these rules were designed to regulate personal conduct from personal motives, and for this purpose alone. I think that these observations will assist us greatly in placing our Saviour's conduct as a moral teacher in a proper point of view; especially when it is considered, that to deliver moral disquisitions was no part of his design,--to teach morality at all was only a subordinate part of it; his great business being to supply what was much more wanting than lessons of morality, stronger moral sanctions, and clearer assurances of a future judgment.* _________ * Some appear to require in a religious system, or in the books which profess to deliver that system, minute directions for every case and occurrence that may arise. This, say they, is necessary to render a revelation perfect, especially one which has for its object the regulation of human conduct. Now, how prolix, and yet how incomplete and unavailing, such an attempt must have been, is proved by one notable example: "The Indoo and Mussulman religions are institutes of civil law, regulating the minutest questions, both of property and of all questions which come under the cognizance of the magistrate. And to what length details of this kind are necessarily carried when once begun, may be understood from an anecdote of the Mussulman code, which we have received from the most respectable authority, that not less than seventy-five thousand traditional precepts have been promulgated." (Hamilton's translation of Hedays, or Guide.) _________ The parables of the New Testament are, many of them, such as would have done honour to any book in the world: I do not mean in style and diction, but in the choice of the subjects, in the structure of the narratives, in the aptness, propriety, and force of the circumstances woven into them; and in some, as that of the Good Samaritan, the Prodigal Son, the Pharisee and the Publican, in an union of pathos and simplicity, which in the best productions of human genius is the fruit only of a much exercised and well cultivated judgment. The Lord's Prayer, for a succession of solemn thoughts, for fixing the attention upon a few great points, for suitableness to every condition, for sufficiency, for conciseness without obscurity, for the weight and real importance of its petitions, is without an equal or a rival. From whence did these come? Whence had this man his wisdom? Was our Saviour, in fact, a well instructed philosopher, whilst he is represented to us as an illiterate peasant? Or shall we say that some early Christians of taste and education composed these pieces and ascribed them to Christ? Beside all other incredibilities in this account, I answer, with Dr. Jortin, that they could not do it. No specimens of composition which the Christians of the first century have left us authorise us to believe that they were equal to the task. And how little qualified the Jews, the countrymen and companions of Christ, were to assist him in the undertaking, may be judged of from the traditions and writings of theirs which were the nearest to that age. The whole collection of the Talmud is one continued proof into what follies they fell whenever they left their Bible; and how little capable they were of furnishing out such lessons as Christ delivered. But there is still another view in which our Lord's discourses deserve to be considered; and that is, in their negative character,--not in what they did, but in what they did not, contain. Under this head the following reflections appear to me to possess some weight. I. They exhibit no particular description of the invisible world. The future happiness of the good, and the misery of the bad, which is all we want to be assured of, is directly and positively affirmed, and is represented by metaphors and comparisons, which were plainly intended as metaphors and comparisons, and as nothing more. As to the rest, a solemn reserve is maintained. The question concerning the woman who had been married to seven brothers, "Whose shall she be on the resurrection?" was of a nature calculated to have drawn from Christ a more circumstantial account of the state of the human species in their future existence. He cuts short, however, the inquiry by an answer, which at once rebuked intruding curiosity, and was agreeable to the best apprehensions we are able to form upon the subject, viz. "That they who are accounted worthy of that resurrection, shall be as the angels of God in heaven." I lay a stress upon this reserve, because it repels the suspicion of enthusiasm: for enthusiasm is wont to expatiate upon the condition of the departed, above all other subjects, and with a wild particularity. It is moreover a topic which is always listened to with greediness. The teacher, therefore, whose principal purpose is to draw upon himself attention, is sure to be full of it. The Koran of Mahomet is half made up of it. II. Our Lord enjoined no austerities. He not only enjoined none as absolute duties, but he recommended none as carrying men to a higher degree of Divine favour. Place Christianity, in this respect, by the side of all institutions which have been founded in the fanaticism either of their author or of his first followers: or, rather, compare in this respect Christianity, as it came from Christ, with the same religion after it fell into other hands--with the extravagant merit very soon ascribed to celibacy, solitude, voluntary poverty; with the rigours of an ascetic, and the vows of a monastic life; the hair-shirt, the watchings, the midnight prayers, the obmutescence, the gloom and mortification of religious orders, and of those who aspired to religious perfection. III. Our Saviour uttered no impassioned devotion. There was no heat in his piety, or in the language in which he expressed it; no vehement or rapturous ejaculations, no violent urgency, in his prayers. The Lord's Prayer is a model of calm devotion. His words in the garden are unaffected expressions of a deep, indeed, but sober piety. He never appears to have been worked up into anything like that elation, or that emotion of spirits which is occasionally observed in most of those to whom the name of enthusiast can in any degree be applied. I feel a respect for Methodists, because I believe that there is to be found amongst them much sincere piety, and availing though not always well-informed Christianity: yet I never attended a meeting of theirs but I came away with the reflection, how different what I heard was from what I read! I do not mean in doctrine, with which at present I have no concern, but in manner how different from the calmness, the sobriety, the good sense, and I may add, the strength and authority of our Lord's discourses! IV. It is very usual with the human mind to substitute forwardness and fervency in a particular cause for the merit of general and regular morality; and it is natural, and politic also, in the leader of a sect or party, to encourage such a disposition in his followers. Christ did not overlook this turn of thought; yet, though avowedly placing himself at the head of a new institution, he notices it only to condemn it. "Not every one that saith unto me, Lord, Lord, shall enter into the kingdom of heaven; but he that doeth the will of my Father which is in heaven. Many will say unto me in that day, Lord, Lord, have we not prophesied in thy name? and in thy name have cast out devils? and in thy name done many wonderful works? And then will I profess unto you, I never knew you: depart from me, ye that work iniquity." (Matt. vii. 21, 22.) So far was the Author of Christianity from courting the attachment of his followers by any sacrifice of principle, or by a condescension to the errors which even zeal in his service might have inspired. This was a proof both of sincerity and judgment. V. Nor, fifthly, did he fall in with any of the depraved fashions of his country, or with the natural bias of his own education. Bred up a Jew, under a religion extremely technical, in an age and amongst a people more tenacious of the ceremonies than of any other part of that religion, he delivered an institution containing less of ritual, and that more simple, than is to be found in any religion which ever prevailed amongst mankind. We have known, I do allow, examples of an enthusiasm which has swept away all external ordinances before it. But this spirit certainly did not dictate our Saviour's conduct, either in his treatment of the religion of his country, or in the formation of his own institution. In both he displayed the soundness and moderation of his judgment. He censured an overstrained scrupulousness, or perhaps an affectation of scrupulousness, about the Sabbath: but how did he censure it? not by contemning or decrying the institution itself, but by declaring that "the Sabbath was made for man, not man for the Sabbath;" that is to say, that the Sabbath was to be subordinate to its purpose, and that that purpose was the real good of those who were the subjects of the law. The same concerning the nicety of some of the Pharisees, in paying tithes of the most trifling articles, accompanied with a neglect of justice, fidelity, and mercy. He finds fault with them for misplacing their anxiety. He does not speak disrespectfully of the law of tithes, nor of their observance of it; but he assigns to each class of duties its proper station in the scale of moral importance. All this might be expected perhaps from a well-instructed, cool, and judicious philosopher, but was not to be looked for from an illiterate Jew; certainly not from an impetuous enthusiast. VI. Nothing could be more quibbling than were the comments and expositions of the Jewish doctors at that time; nothing so puerile as their distinctions. Their evasion of the fifth commandment, their exposition of the law of oaths, are specimens of the bad taste in morals which then prevailed. Whereas, in a numerous collection of our Saviour's apophthegms, many of them referring to sundry precepts of the Jewish law, there is not to be found one example of sophistry, or of false subtlety, or of anything approaching thereunto. VII. The national temper of the Jews was intolerant, narrow-minded, and excluding. In Jesus, on the contrary, whether we regard his lessons or his example, we see not only benevolence, but benevolence the most enlarged and comprehensive. In the parable of the Good Samaritan, the very point of the story is, that the person relieved by him was the national and religious enemy of his benefactor. Our Lord declared the equity of the Divine administration, when he told the Jews, (what, probably, they were surprised to hear,) "That many should come from the east and west, and should sit down with Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, in the kingdom of heaven; but that the children of the kingdom should be cast into outer darkness." (Matt. viii. 11.) His reproof of the hasty zeal of his disciples, who would needs call down fire from heaven to revenge an affront put upon their Master, shows the lenity of his character, and of his religion: and his opinion of the manner in which the most unreasonable opponents ought to be treated, or at least of the manner in which they ought not to be treated. The terms in which his rebuke was conveyed deserve to be noticed:--"Ye know not what manner of spirit ye are of." (Luke ix. 55.) VIII. Lastly, amongst the negative qualities of our religion, as it came out of the hands of its Founder and his apostles, we may reckon its complete abstraction from all views either of ecclesiastical or civil policy; or, to meet a language much in fashion with some men, from the politics either of priests or statesmen. Christ's declaration, that "his kingdom was not of this world," recorded by Saint John; his evasion of the question, whether it was lawful or not to give tribute unto Caesar, mentioned by the three other evangelists; his reply to an application that was made to him, to interpose his authority in a question of property; "Man, who made me a ruler or a judge over you?" ascribed to him by St. Luke; his declining to exercise the office of a criminal judge in the case of the woman taken in adultery, as related by John, are all intelligible significations of our Saviour's sentiments upon this head. And with respect to politics, in the usual sense of that word, or discussions concerning different forms of government, Christianity declines every question upon the subject. Whilst politicians are disputing about monarchies, aristocracies, and republics, the Gospel is alike applicable, useful, and friendly to them all; inasmuch, as, 1stly, it tends to make men virtuous, and as it is easier to govern good men than bad men under any constitution; as, 2ndly, it states obedience to government, in ordinary cases, to be not merely a submission to force, but a duty of conscience; as, 3rdly, it induces dispositions favourable to public tranquillity, a Christian's chief care being to pass quietly through this world to a better; as, 4thly, it prays for communities, and, for the governors of communities, of whatever description or denomination they be, with a solicitude and fervency proportioned to the influence which they possess upon human happiness. All which, in my opinion, is just as it should be. Had there been more to be found in Scripture of a political nature, or convertible to political purposes, the worst use would have been made of it, on whichever side it seemed to lie. When, therefore, we consider Christ as a moral teacher (remembering that this was only a secondary part of his office; and that morality, by the nature of the subject, does not admit of discovery, properly so called)--when we consider either what he taught, or what he did not teach, either the substance or the manner of his instruction; his preference of solid to popular virtues, of a character which is commonly despised to a character which is universally extolled; his placing, in our licentious vices, the check in the right place, viz. upon the thoughts; his collecting of human duty into two well-devised rules, his repetition of these rules, the stress he laid upon them, especially in comparison with positive duties, and his fixing thereby the sentiments of his followers; his exclusion of all regard to reputation in our devotion and alms, and by parity of reason in our other virtues;--when we consider that his instructions were delivered in a form calculated for impression, the precise purpose in his situation to be consulted; and that they were illustrated by parables, the choice and structure of which would have been admired in any composition whatever;--when we observe him free from the usual symptoms of enthusiasm, heat and vehemence in devotion, austerity in institutions, and a wild particularity in the description of a future state; free also from the depravities of his age and country; without superstition amongst the most superstitious of men, yet not decrying positive distinctions or external observances, but soberly calling them to the principle of their establishment, and to their place in the scale of human duties; without sophistry or trifling, amidst teachers remarkable for nothing so much as frivolous subtleties and quibbling expositions; candid and liberal in his judgment of the rest of mankind, although belonging to a people who affected a separate claim to Divine favour, and in consequence of that opinion prone to uncharitableness, partiality, and restriction;--when we find in his religion no scheme of building up a hierarchy, or of ministering to the views of human governments;--in a word, when we compare Christianity, as it came from its Author, either with other religions, or with itself in other hands, the most reluctant understanding will be induced to acknowledge the probity, I think also the good sense, of those to whom it owes its origin; and that some regard is due to the testimony of such men, when they declare their knowledge that the religion proceeded from God; and when they appeal for the truth of their assertion, to miracles which they wrought, or which they saw. Perhaps the qualities which we observe in the religion may be thought to prove something more. They would have been extraordinary had the religion come from any person; from the person from whom it did come, they are exceedingly so. What was Jesus in external appearance? A Jewish peasant, the son of a carpenter, living with his father and mother in a remote province of Palestine, until the time that he produced himself in his public character. He had no master to instruct or prompt him; he had read no books but the works of Moses and the prophets; he had visited no polished cities; he had received no lessons from Socrates or Plato,--nothing to form in him a taste or judgment different from that of the rest of his countrymen, and of persons of the same rank of life with himself. Supposing it to be true, which it is not, that all his points of morality might be picked out of Greek and Roman writings, they were writings which he had never seen. Supposing them to be no more than what some or other had taught in various times and places, he could not collect them together. Who were his coadjutors in the undertaking,--the persons into whose hands the religion came after his death? A few fishermen upon the lake of Tiberias, persons just as uneducated, and, for the purpose of framing rules of morality, as unpromising as himself. Suppose the mission to be real, all this is accounted for; the unsuitableness of the authors to the production, of the characters to the undertaking, no longer surprises us: but without reality, it is very difficult to explain how such a system should proceed from such persons. Christ was not like any other carpenter; the apostles were not like any other fishermen. But the subject is not exhausted by these observations. That portion of it which is most reducible to points of argument has been stated, and, I trust, truly. There are, however, some topics of a more diffuse nature, which yet deserve to be proposed to the reader's attention. The character of Christ is a part of the morality of the Gospel: one strong observation upon which is, that, neither as represented by his followers, nor as attacked by his enemies, is he charged with any personal vice. This remark is as old as Origen: "Though innumerable lies and calumnies had been forged against the venerable Jesus, none had dared to charge him with an intemperance." (Or. Ep. Cels. 1. 3, num. 36, ed. Bened.) Not a reflection upon his moral character, not an imputation or suspicion of any offence against purity and chastity, appears for five hundred years after his birth. This faultlessness is more peculiar than we are apt to imagine. Some stain pollutes the morals or the morality of almost every other teacher, and of every other lawgiver.* Zeno the stoic, and Diogenes the cynic, fell into the foulest impurities; of which also Socrates himself was more than suspected. Solon forbade unnatural crimes to slaves. Lycurgus tolerated theft as a part of education. Plato recommended a community of women. Aristotle maintained the general right of making war upon barbarians. The elder Cato was remarkable for the ill usage of his slaves; the younger gave up the person of his wife. One loose principle is found in almost all the Pagan moralists; is distinctly, however, perceived in the writings of Plato, Xenophon, Cicero, Seneca, Epictetus; and that is, the allowing, and even the recommending to their disciples, a compliance with the religion, and with the religious rites, of every country into which they came. In speaking of the founders of new institutions we cannot forget Mahomet. His licentious transgressions of his own licentious rules; his abuse of the character which he assumed, and of the power which he had acquired, for the purposes of personal and privileged indulgence; his avowed claim of a special permission from heaven of unlimited sensuality, is known to every reader, as it is confessed by every writer of the Moslem story. _________ * See many instances collected by Grotius, de Veritate Christianae Religionis, in the notes to his second book, p. 116. Pocock's edition. _________ Secondly, in the histories which are left us of Jesus Christ, although very short, and although dealing in narrative, and not in observation or panegyric, we perceive, beside the absence of every appearance of vice, traces of devotion, humility, benignity, mildness, patience, prudence. I speak of traces of these qualities, because the qualities themselves are to be collected from incidents; inasmuch as the terms are never used of Christ in the Gospels, nor is any formal character of him drawn in any part of the New Testament. Thus we see the devoutness of his mind in his frequent retirement to solitary prayer; (Matt. xiv. 23. Luke ix. 28. Matt. xxvi. 36.) in his habitual giving of thanks; (Matt. xi. 25. Mark viii. 6. John vi. 23. Luke xxii. 17.) in his reference of the beauties and operations of nature to the bounty of Providence; (Matt. vi, 26--28.) in his earnest addresses to his Father, more particularly that short but solemn one before the raising of Lazarus from the dead; (John xi. 41.) and in the deep piety of his behaviour in the garden on the last evening of his life:(Matt. xxvi. 86--47.) his humility in his constant reproof of contentions for superiority:(Mark ix. 33.) the benignity and affectionateness of his temper in his kindness to children; (Mark x. 16.) in the tears which he shed over his falling country, (Luke xix. 41.) and upon the death of his friend; (John xi. 35.) in his noticing of the widow's mite; (Mark xii. 42.) in his parables of the good Samaritan, of the ungrateful servant, and of the Pharisee and publican, of which parables no one but a man of humanity could have been the author: the mildness and lenity of his character is discovered in his rebuke of the forward zeal of his disciples at the Samaritan village; (Luke ix. 55.) in his expostulation with Pilate; (John xix. 11.) in his prayer for his enemies at the moment of his suffering, (Luke xxiii. 34.) which, though it has been since very properly and frequently imitated, was then, I apprehend, new. His prudence is discerned, where prudence is most wanted, in his conduct on trying occasions, and in answers to artful questions. Of these the following are examples:--His withdrawing in various instances from the first symptoms of tumult, (Matt. xiv. 22. Luke v. 15, 16. John v. 13; vi. 15.) and with the express care, as appears from Saint Matthew, (Chap. xii. 19.) of carrying on his ministry in quietness; his declining of every species of interference with the civil affairs of the country, which disposition is manifested by his behaviour in the case of the woman caught in adultery, (John viii. 1.) and in his repulse of the application which was made to him to interpose his decision about a disputed inheritance:(Luke xii. 14.) his judicious, yet, as it should seem, unprepared answers, will be confessed in the case of the Roman tribute (Matt. xxii. 19.) in the difficulty concerning the interfering relations of a future state, as proposed to him in the instance of a woman who had married seven brethren; (Matt. xxii. 28.) and more especially in his reply to those who demanded from him an explanation of the authority by which he acted, which reply consisted in propounding a question to them, situated between the very difficulties into which they were insidiously endeavouring to draw him. (Matt. xxi. 23, et seq.) Our Saviour's lessons, beside what has already been remarked in them, touch, and that oftentimes by very affecting representations, upon some of the most interesting topics of human duty, and of human meditation; upon the principles by which the decisions of the last day will be regulated; (Matt. xxv. 31, et seq.) upon the superior, or rather the supreme importance of religion; ( Mark viii. 35. Matt. vi. 31--33. Luke xii. 4, 5, 16--21.) upon penitence, by the most pressing calls, and the most encouraging invitations; (Luke xv.) upon self-denial, (Matt. v. 29.) watchfulhess, (Mark xiii. 37. Matt. xxiv. 42; xxv. 13.) placability, (Luke xvii. 4. Matt. xviii. 33, et seq.) confidence in God, (Matt. vi. 25--30.) the value of spiritual, that is, of mental worship, (John iv. 23, 24.) the necessity of moral obedience, and the directing of that obedience to the spirit and principle of the law, instead of seeking for evasions in a technical construction of its terms. (Matt. v. 21.) If we extend our argument to other parts of the New Testament, we may offer, as amongst the best and shortest rules of life, or, which is the same thing, descriptions of virtue, that have ever been delivered, the following passages:-- "Pure religion, and undefiled, before God and the Father, is this; to visit the fatherless and widows in their affliction, and to keep himself unspotted from the world." (James i. 27.) "Now the end of the commandment is charity, out of a pure heart and a good conscience, and faith unfeigned." (I Tim. i. 5.) "For the grace of God that bringeth salvation hath appeared to all men, teaching us that, denying ungodliness and worldly lusts, we should live soberly, righteously, and godly, in this present world." (Tit. ii. 11, 12.) Enumerations of virtues and vices, and those sufficiently accurate and unquestionably just, are given by St. Paul to his converts in three several epistles. (Gal. v. 19. Col. iii. 12. 1 Cor. xiii.) The relative duties of husbands and wives, of parents and children, of masters and servants, of Christian teachers and their flocks, of governors and their subjects, are set forth by the same writer, (Eph. v. 33; vi. 1--5. 2 Cor. vi. 6, 7. Rom. xiii.) not indeed with the copiousness, the detail, or the distinctness of a moralist who should in these days sit down to write chapters upon the subject, but with the leading rules and principles in each; and, above all, with truth and with authority. Lastly, the whole volume of the New Testament is replete with piety; with what were almost unknown to heathen moralists, devotional virtues, the most profound veneration of the Deity, an habitual sense of his bounty and protection, a firm confidence in the final result of his counsels and dispensations, a disposition to resort upon all occasions to his mercy for the supply of human wants, for assistance in danger, for relief from pain, for the pardon of sin. CHAPTER III. THE CANDOUR OF THE WRITERS OF THE NEW TESTAMENT. I make this candour to consist in their putting down many passages, and noticing many circumstances, which no writer whatever was likely to have forged; and which no writer would have chosen to appear in his book who had been careful to present the story in the most unexceptionable form, or who had thought himself at liberty to carve and mould the particulars of that story according to his choice, or according to his judgment of the effect. A strong and well-known example of the fairness of the evangelists offers itself in their account of Christ's resurrection, namely, in their unanimously stating that after he was risen he appeared to his disciples alone. I do not mean that they have used the exclusive word alone; but that all the instances which they have recorded of his appearance are instances of appearance to his disciples; that their reasonings upon it, and allusions to it, are confined to this supposition; and that by one of them Peter is made to say, "Him God raised up the third day, and showed him openly, not to all the people, but to witnesses chosen before of God, even to us who did eat and drink with him after he rose from the dead." (Acts x. 40, 41.) The most common understanding must have perceived that the history of the resurrection would have come with more advantage if they had related that Jesus appeared, after he was risen, to his foes as well as his friends, to the scribes and Pharisees, the Jewish council, and the Roman governor: or even if they had asserted the public appearance of Christ in general unqualified terms, without noticing, as they have done, the presence of his disciples on each occasion, and noticing it in such a manner as to lead their readers to suppose that none but disciples were present. They could have represented in one way as well as the other. And if their point had been to have their religion believed, whether true or false; if they had fabricated the story ab initio; or if they had been disposed either to have delivered their testimony as witnesses, or to have worked up their materials and information as historians, in such a manner as to render their narrative as specious and unobjectionable as they could; in a word, if they had thought of anything but of the truth of the case, as they understood and believed it; they would in their account of Christ's several appearances after his resurrection, at least have omitted this restriction. At this distance of time, the account as we have it is perhaps more credible than it would have been the other way; because this manifestation of the historians' candour is of more advantage to their testimony than the difference in the circumstances of the account would have been to the nature of the evidence. But this is an effect which the evangelists would not foresee: and I think that it was by no means the case at the time when the books were composed. Mr. Gibbon has argued for the genuineness of the Koran, from the confessions which it contains, to the apparent disadvantage of the Mahometan cause. (Vol. ix. c. 50, note 96.) The same defence vindicates the genuineness of our Gospels, and without prejudice to the cause at all. There are some other instances in which the evangelists honestly relate what they must have perceived would make against them. Of this kind is John the Baptist's message preserved by Saint Matthew (xi. 2) and Saint Luke (vii. 18): "Now when John had heard in the prison the works of Christ, he sent two of his disciples, and said unto him, Art thou he that should come, or look we for another?" To confess, still more to state, that John the Baptist had his doubts concerning the character of Jesus, could not but afford a handle to cavil and objection. But truth, like honesty, neglects appearances. The same observation, perhaps, holds concerning the apostacy of Judas.* _________ * I had once placed amongst these examples of fair concession the remarkable words of Saint Matthew in his account of Christ's appearance upon the Galilean mountain: "And when they saw him they worshipped him; but some doubted." (Chap. xxviii. 17.) I have since, however, been convinced, by what is observed concerning this passage in Dr. Townshend's Discourse (Page 177.) upon the Resurrection, that the transaction, as related by Saint Matthew, was really this: "Christ appeared first at a distance; the greater part of the company, the moment they saw him, worshipped, but some as yet, i.e. upon this first distant view of his person, doubted; whereupon Christ came up to them, and spake to them,"+ &c.: that the doubt, therefore, was a doubt only at first for a moment, and upon his being seen at a distance, and was afterwards dispelled by his nearer approach, and by his entering into conversation with them. + Saint Matthew's words are: kai proselthon o Iesous elalesen autois [and having come toward them, Jesus spoke]. This intimates that when he first appeared it was at a distance, at least from many of the spectators. Ib. p. 197. _________ John vi. 66. "From that time, many of his disciples went back, and walked no more with him." Was it the part of a writer who dealt in suppression and disguise to put down this anecdote? Or this, which Matthew has preserved (xii. 58)? "He did not many mighty works there, because of their unbelief." Again, in the same evangelist (v. 17, 18): "Think not that I am come to destroy the law or the prophets: I am not come to destroy, but to fulfil; for, verily, I say unto you, till heaven and earth pass, one jot, or one tittle, shall in no wise pass from the law, till all be fulfilled." At the time the Gospels were written, the apparent tendency of Christ's mission was to diminish the authority of the Mosaic code, and it was so considered by the Jews themselves. It is very improbable, therefore, that, without the constraint of truth, Matthew should have ascribed a saying to Christ, which, primo intuitu, militated with the judgment of the age in which his Gospel was written. Marcion thought this text so objectionable, that he altered the words, so as to invert the sense. (Lardner, Cred., vol. xv. p. 422.) Once more (Acts xxv. 18): "They brought none accusation against him of such things as I supposed; but had certain questions against him of their own superstition, and of one Jesus which was dead, whom Paul affirmed to be alive." Nothing could be more in the character of a Roman governor than these words. But that is not precisely the point I am concerned with. A mere panegyrist, or a dishonest narrator, would not have represented his cause, or have made a great magistrate represent it, in this manner, i.e. in terms not a little disparaging, and bespeaking, on his part, much unconcern and indifference about the matter. The same observation may be repeated of the speech which is ascribed to Gallio (Acts xviii. 15): "If it be a question of words and names, and of your law, look ye to it; for I will be no judge of such matters." Lastly, where do we discern a stronger mark of candour, or less disposition to extol and magnify, than in the conclusion of the same history? in which the evangelist, after relating that Paul, on his first arrival at Rome, preached to the Jews from morning until evening, adds, "And some believed the things which were spoken, and some believed not." The following, I think, are passages which were very unlikely to have presented themselves to the mind of a forger or a fabulist. Matt. xxi. 21. "Jesus answered and said unto them, Verily I say unto you, If ye have faith, and doubt not, ye shall not only do this which is done unto the fig-tree, but also, if ye shall say unto this mountain, Be thou removed, and be thou east into the sea, it shall be done; all things whatsoever ye shall ask in prayer, believing, it shall be done." (See also chap. xvii. 20. Luke xvii. 6.) It appears to me very improbable that these words should have been put into Christ's mouth, if he had not actually spoken them. The term "faith," as here used, is perhaps rightly interpreted of confidence in that internal notice by which the apostles were admonished of their power to perform any particular miracle. And this exposition renders the sense of the text more easy. But the words undoubtedly, in their obvious construction, carry with them a difficulty which no writer would have brought upon himself officiously. Luke ix. 59. "And he said unto another, Follow me: but he said, Lord, suffer me first to go and bury my father. Jesus said unto him, Let the dead bury their dead, but go thou and preach the kingdom of God." (See also Matt. viii. 21.) This answer, though very expressive of the transcendent importance of religious concerns, was apparently harsh and repulsive; and such as would not have been made for Christ if he had not really used it. At least some other instance would bare been chosen. The following passage, I, for the same reason, think impossible to have been the production of artifice, or of a cold forgery:--"But I say unto you, that whosoever is angry with his brother without a cause shall be in danger of the judgment; and whosoever shall say to his brother, Raca, shall be in danger of the council; but whosoever shall say, Thou fool, shall be in danger of hell-fire (Gehennae)." Matt. v. 22. It is emphatic, cogent, and well calculated for the purpose of impression; but is inconsistent with the supposition of art or wariness on the part of the relator. The short reply of our Lord to Mary Magdalen, after his resurrection (John xx. 16, 17), "Touch me not, for I am not yet ascended unto my Father," in my opinion must have been founded in a reference or allusion to some prior conversation, for the want of knowing which his meaning is hidden from us. This very obscurity, however, is a proof of genuineness. No one would have forged such an answer. John vi. The whole of the conversation recorded in this chapter is in the highest degree unlikely to be fabricated, especially the part of our Saviour's reply between the fiftieth and the fifty-eighth verse. I need only put down the first sentence: "I am the living bread which came down from heaven: if any man eat of this bread he shall live for ever: and the bread that I will give him is my flesh, which I will give for the life of the world." Without calling in question the expositions that have been given of this passage, we may be permitted to say, that it labours under an obscurity, in which it is impossible to believe that any one, who made speeches for the persons of his narrative, would have voluntarily involved them. That this discourse was obscure, even at the time, is confessed by the writer who had preserved it, when he tells us, at the conclusion, that many of our Lord's disciples, when they had heard this, said, "This is a hard saying; who can hear it?" Christ's taking of a young child, and placing it in the midst of his contentious disciples (Matt. xviii. 2), though as decisive a proof as any could be of the benignity of his temper, and very expressive of the character of the religion which he wished to inculcate, was not by any means an obvious thought. Nor am I acquainted with anything in any ancient writing which resembles it. The account of the institution of the eucharist bears strong internal marks of genuineness. If it had been feigned, it would have been more full; it would have come nearer to the actual mode of celebrating the rite as that mode obtained very early in the Christian churches; and it would have been more formal than it is. In the forged piece called the Apostolic Constitutions, the apostles are made to enjoin many parts of the ritual which was in use in the second and third centuries, with as much particularity as a modern rubric could have done. Whereas, in the history of the Lord's Supper, as we read it in Saint Matthew's Gospel, there is not so much as the command to repeat it. This, surely, looks like undesignedness. I think also that the difficulty arising from the conciseness of Christ's expression, "This is my body," would have been avoided in a made-up story. I allow that the explication of these words given by Protestants is satisfactory; but it is deduced from a diligent comparison of the words in question with forms of expression used in Scripture, and especially by Christ upon other occasions. No writer would arbitrarily and unnecessarily have thus cast in his reader's way a difficulty which, to say the least, it required research and erudition to clear up. Now it ought to be observed that the argument which is built upon these examples extends both to the authenticity of the books, and to the truth of the narrative; for it is improbable that the forger of a history in the name of another should have inserted such passages into it: and it is improbable, also, that the persons whose names the books hear should have fabricated such passages; or even have allowed them a place in their work, if they had not believed them to express the truth. The following observation, therefore, of Dr. Lardner, the most candid of all advocates, and the most cautious of all inquirers, seems to be well founded:--"Christians are induced to believe the writers of the Gospel by observing the evidences of piety and probity that appear in their writings, in which there is no deceit, or artifice, or cunning, or design." "No remarks," as Dr. Beattie hath properly said, "are thrown in to anticipate objections; nothing of that caution which never fails to distinguish the testimony of those who are conscious of imposture; no endeavour to reconcile the reader's mind to what may be extraordinary in the narrative." I beg leave to cite also another author, (Duchal, pp. 97, 98.) who has well expressed the reflection which the examples now brought forward were intended to suggest. "It doth not appear that ever it came into the mind of these writers to consider how this or the other action would appear to mankind, or what objections might be raised upon them. But without at all attending to this, they lay the facts before you, at no pains to think whether they would appear credible or not. If the reader will not believe their testimony, there is no help for it: they tell the truth and attend to nothing else. Surely this looks like sincerity, and that they published nothing to the world but that they believed themselves." As no improper supplement to this chapter, I crave a place here for observing the extreme naturalness of some of the things related in the New Testament. Mark ix. 23. "Jesus said unto him, If thou canst believe, all things are possible to him that believeth. And straightway the father of the child cried out, and said with tears, Lord, I believe; help thou mine unbelief." This struggle in the father's heart, between solicitude for the preservation of his child, and a kind of involuntary distrust of Christ's power to heal him, is here expressed with an air of reality which could hardly be counterfeited. Again (Matt. xxi. 9), the eagerness of the people to introduce Christ into Jerusalem, and their demand, a short time afterwards, of his crucifixion, when he did not turn out what they expected him to be, so far from affording matter of objection, represents popular favour in exact agreement with nature and with experience, as the flux and reflux of a wave. The rulers and Pharisees rejecting Christ, whilst many of the common people received him, was the effect which, in the then state of Jewish prejudices, I should have expected. And the reason with which they who rejected Christ's mission kept themselves in countenance, and with which also they answered the arguments of those who favoured it, is precisely the reason which such men usually give:--"Have any of the Scribes or Pharisees believed on him?" (John vii. 48.) In our Lord's conversation at the well (John iv. 29), Christ had surprised the Samaritan woman with an allusion to a single particular in her domestic situation, "Thou hast had five husbands; and he whom thou now hast is not thy husband." The woman, soon after this, ran back to the city, and called out to her neighbours, "Come, see a man which told me all things that ever I did." This exaggeration appears to me very natural; especially in the hurried state of spirits into which the woman may be supposed to have been thrown. The lawyer's subtilty in running a distinction upon the word neighbour, in the precept, "Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself," was no less natural than our Saviour's answer was decisive and satisfactory. (Luke x. 20.) The lawyer of the New Testament, it must be observed, was a Jewish divine. The behaviour of Gallio (Acts xviii. 12-17), and of Festus (xxv. 18, 19), have been observed upon already. The consistency of Saint Paul's character throughout the whole of his history (viz. the warmth and activity of his zeal, first against, and then for, Christianity) carries with it very much of the appearance of truth. There are also some properties, as they may be called, observable in the Gospels; that is, circumstances separately suiting with the situation, character, and intention of their respective authors. Saint Matthew, who was an inhabitant of Galilee, and did not join Christ's society until some time after Christ had come into Galilee to preach, has given us very little of his history prior to that period. Saint John, who had been converted before, and who wrote to supply omissions in the other Gospels, relates some remarkable particulars which had taken place before Christ left Judea, to go into Galilee. (Hartley's Observations, vol. ii. p. 103.) Saint Matthew (xv. 1) has recorded the cavil of the Pharisees against the disciples of Jesus, for eating "with unclean hands." Saint Mark has also (vii. 1) recorded the same transaction (taken probably from Saint Matthew), but with this addition: "For the Pharisees, and all the Jews, except they wash their hands often, eat not, holding the tradition of the elders: and when they come from the market, except they wash, they eat not: and many other things there be which they have received to hold, as the washing of cups and pots, brazen vessels, and of tables." Now Saint Matthew was not only a Jew himself, but it is evident, from the whole structure of his Gospel, especially from his numerous references to the Old Testament, that he wrote for Jewish readers. The above explanation, therefore, in him, would have been unnatural, as not being wanted by the readers whom he addressed. But in Mark, who, whatever use he might make of Matthew's Gospel, intended his own narrative for a general circulation, and who himself travelled to distant countries in the service of the religion, it was properly added. CHAPTER IV. IDENTITY OF CHRIST'S CHARACTER. THE argument expressed by this title I apply principally to the comparison of the first three Gospels with that of Saint John. It is known to every reader of Scripture that the passages of Christ's history preserved by Saint John are, except his passion and resurrection, for the most part different from those which are delivered by the other evangelists. And I think the ancient account of this difference to be the true one, viz., that Saint John wrote after the rest, and to supply what he thought omissions in their narratives, of which the principal were our Saviour's conferences with the Jews of Jerusalem, and his discourses to his apostles at his last supper. But what I observe in the comparison of these several accounts is, that, although actions and discourses are ascribed to Christ by Saint John in general different from what are given to him by the other evangelists, yet, under this diversity, there is a similitude of manner, which indicates that the actions and discourses proceeded from the same person. I should have laid little stress upon the repetition of actions substantially alike, or of discourses containing many of the same expressions, because that is a species of resemblance which would either belong to a true history, or might easily be imitate in a false one. Nor do I deny that a dramatic writer is able to sustain propriety and distinction of character through a great variety of separate incidents and situations. But the evangelists were not dramatic writers; nor possessed the talents of dramatic writers; nor will it, I believe, be suspected that they studied uniformity of character, or ever thought of any such thing in the person who was the subject of their histories. Such uniformity, if it exist, is on their part casual; and if there be, as I contend there is, a perceptible resemblance of manner, in passages, and between discourses, which are in themselves extremely distinct, and are delivered by historians writing without any imitation of, or reference to, one another, it affords a just presumption that these are what they profess to be, the actions and the discourses of the same real person; that the evangelists wrote from fact, and not from imagination. The article in which I find this agreement most strong is in our Saviour's mode of teaching, and in that particular property of it which consists in his drawing of his doctrine from the occasion; or, which is nearly the same thing, raising reflections from the objects and incidents before him, or turning a particular discourse then passing into an opportunity of general instruction. It will be my business to point out this manner in the first three evangelists; and then to inquire whether it do not appear also in several examples of Christ's discourses preserved by Saint John. The reader will observe in the following quotations that the Italic letter contains the reflection; the common letter the incident or occasion from which it springs. Matt. xii. 47--50. "Then they said unto him, Behold, thy mother and thy brethren stand without, desiring to speak with thee. But he answered and said unto him that told him, Who is my mother; and who are my brethren? And he stretched forth his hand towards his disciples, and said, Behold my mother and my brethren: for whosoever shall do the will of my Father which is in heaven, the same is my brother, and sister, and mother." Matt. xvi. 5. "And when his disciples were come to the other side, they had forgotten to take bread; then Jesus said unto them, Take heed, and beware of the leaven of the Pharisees and of the Sadducees. And they reasoned among themselves, saying, It is because we have taken no bread.--How is it that ye do not understand, that I speak it not to you concerning bread, that ye shall beware of the leaven of the Pharisees and of the Sadducees? Then understood they how that he bade them not beware of the leaven of bread, but of the DOCTRINE of the Pharisees and of the Sadducees." Matt. xv. 1, 2; 10, 11; 15--20. "Then came to Jesus scribes and Pharisees, which were of Jerusalem, saying, Why do thy disciples transgress the traditions of the elders? for they wash not their hands when they eat bread.--And he called the multitude, and said unto them, Hear and understand: Not that which goeth into the mouth defileth a man, but that which cometh out of the mouth, this defileth the man.--Then answered Peter, and said unto him, Declare unto us this parable. And Jesus said, Are ye also yet without understanding? Do ye not understand that whatsoever entereth in at the mouth goeth into the belly, and is cast out into the draught? but those things which proceed out of the mouth come forth from the heart, and they defile the man: for out of the heart proceed evil thoughts, murders, adulteries, fornications, thefts, false witness, blasphemies; these are the things which defile a man: BUT TO EAT WITH UNWASHEN HANDS DEFILETH NOT A MAN." Our Saviour, on this occasion, expatiates rather more at large than usual, and his discourse also is more divided; but the concluding sentence brings back the whole train of thought to the incident in the first verse, viz. the objurgatory question of the Pharisees, and renders it evident that the whole sprang from that circumstance. Mark x. 13, 14, 15. "And they brought young children to him, that he should touch them; and his disciples rebuked those that brought them: but when Jesus saw it, he was much displeased, and said unto them, Suffer the little children to come unto me, and forbid them not; for of such is the kingdom of God: verily I say unto you, whosoever shall not receive the kingdom of God as a little child, he shall not enter therein." Mark i. 16, 17. "Now as he walked by the sea of Galilee, he saw Simon and Andrew his brother casting a net into the sea, for they were fishers: and Jesus said unto them, Come ye after me, and I will make you fishers of men." Luke xi. 27. "And it came to pass as he spake these things, a certain woman of the company lifted up her voice, and said unto him, Blessed is the womb that bare thee, and the paps which thou hast sucked: but he said, Yea, rather, blessed are they that hear the word of God and keep it." Luke xiii. 1--3. "There were present at that season some that told him of the Galileans, whose blood Pilate had mingled with their sacrifices; and Jesus answering said unto them, Suppose ye, that these Galileans were sinners above all the Galileans, because they suffered such things? I tell you, Nay: but, except ye repent, ye shall all likewise perish." Luke xiv. 15. "And when one of them that sat at meat with him heard these things, he said unto him, Blessed is he that shall eat bread in the kingdom of God. Then said he unto him, A certain man made a great supper, and bade many," &c. The parable is rather too long for insertion, but affords a striking instance of Christ's manner of raising a discourse from the occasion. Observe also in the same chapter two other examples of advice, drawn from the circumstances of the entertainment and the behaviour of the guests. We will now see how this manner discovers itself in Saint John's history of Christ. John vi. 25. "And when they had found him on the other side of the sea, they said unto him, Rabbi, when camest thou hither? Jesus answered them and said, Verily I say unto you, ye seek me not because ye saw the miracles, but because ye did eat of the loaves and were filled. Labour not for the meat which perisheth, but for that meat which endureth unto everlasting life, which the Son of man shall give unto you." John iv. 12. "Art thou greater than our father Abraham, who gave us the well, and drank thereof himself, and his children, and his cattle? Jesus answered, and said unto her (the woman of Samaria), Whosoever drinketh of this water shall thirst again; but whosoever drinketh of the water that I shall give him, shall never thirst; but the water that I shall give him shall be in him a well of water, springing up into everlasting life." John iv. 31. "In the mean while, his disciples prayed him, saying, Master, eat; but he said unto them, I have meat to eat that ye know not of. Therefore said the disciples one to another, Hath any man brought him aught to eat? Jesus saith unto them, My meat is to do the will of Him that sent me, and to finish his work." John ix. 1--5. "And as Jesus passed by, he saw a man which was blind from his birth: and his disciples asked him, saying, Who did sin, this man or his parents, that he was born blind? Jesus answered, Neither hath this man sinned, nor his parents, but that the works of God should be made manifest in him. I must work the works of Him that sent me while it is day; the night cometh when no man can work. As long as I am in the world, I am the light of the world." John ix. 35--40. "Jesus heard that they had cast him (the blind man above mentioned) out: and when he had found him, he said unto him, Dost thou believe on the Son of God? And he answered and said, Who is he, Lord, that I might believe on him? And Jesus said unto him, Thou hast both seen him, and it is he that talketh with thee. And he said, Lord, I believe; and he worshipped him. And Jesus said. For judgment I am come into this world, that they which see not might see; and that they which see might be made blind." All that the reader has now to do, is to compare the series of examples taken from Saint John with the series of examples taken from the other evangelists, and to judge whether there be not a visible agreement of manner between them. In the above-quoted passages, the occasion is stated, as well as the reflection. They seem, therefore, the most proper for the purpose of our argument. A large, however, and curious collection has been made by different writers, (Newton on Daniel, p. 148, note a. Jottin, Dis., p. 218. Bishop Law's Life of Christ.) of instances in which it is extremely probable that Christ spoke in allusion to some object, or some occasion then before him, though the mention of the occasion, or of the object, be omitted in the history. I only observe that these instances are common to Saint John's Gospel with the other three. I conclude this article by remarking, that nothing of this manner is perceptible in the speeches recorded in the Acts, or in any other but those which are attributed to Christ, and that, in truth, it was a very unlikely manner for a forger or fabulist to attempt; and a manner very difficult for any writer to execute, if he had to supply all the materials, both the incidents and the observations upon them, out of his own head. A forger or a fabulist would have made for Christ, discourses exhorting to virtue and dissuading from vice in general terms. It would never have entered into the thoughts of either, to have crowded together such a number of allusions to time, place, and other little circumstances, as occur, for instance, in the sermon on the mount, and which nothing but the actual presence of the objects could have suggested (See Bishop Law's Life of Christ). II. There appears to me to exist an affinity between the history of Christ's placing a little child in the midst of his disciples, as related by the first three evangelists, (Matt. xviii. 1. Mark ix. 33. Luke ix. 46.) and the history of Christ's washing his disciples' feet, as given by Saint John. (Chap. xiii. 3.) In the stories themselves there is no resemblance. But the affinity which I would point out consists in these two articles: First, that both stories denote the emulation which prevailed amongst Christ's disciples, and his own care and desire to correct it; the moral of both is the same. Secondly, that both stories are specimens of the same manner of teaching, viz., by action; a mode of emblematic instruction extremely peculiar, and, in these passages, ascribed, we see, to our Saviour by the first three evangelists, and by Saint John, in instances totally unlike, and without the smallest suspicion of their borrowing from each other. III. A singularity in Christ's language which runs through all the evangelists, and which is found in those discourses of Saint John that have nothing similar to them in the other Gospels, is the appellation of "the Son of man;" and it is in all the evangelists found under the peculiar circumstance of being applied by Christ to himself, but of never being used of him, or towards him, by any other person. It occurs seventeen times in Matthew's Gospel, twenty times in Mark's, twenty-one times in Luke's and eleven times in John's, and always with this restriction. IV. A point of agreement in the conduct of Christ, as represented by his different historians, is that of his withdrawing himself out of the way whenever the behaviour of the multitude indicated a disposition to tumult. Matt. xiv. 22. "And straightway Jesus constrained his disciples to get into a ship, and to go before him unto the other side, while he sent the multitude away. And when he had sent the multitude away, he went up into a mountain apart to pray." Luke v. 15, 16. "But so much the more went there a fame abroad of him, and great multitudes came together to hear, and to be healed by him of their infirmities; and he withdrew himself into the wilderness and prayed." With these quotations compare the following from Saint John: Chap. v. 13. "And he that was healed wist not who it was, for Jesus had conveyed himself away, a multitude being in that place." Chap. vi. 15. "When Jesus therefore perceived that they would come and take him by force, to make him a king, he departed again into a mountain himself alone." In this last instance, Saint John gives the motive of Christ's conduct, which is left unexplained by the other evangelists, who have related the conduct itself. V. Another, and a more singular circumstance in Christ's ministry, was the reserve which, for some time, and upon some occasions at least, he used in declaring his own character, and his leaving it to be collected from his works rather than his professions. Just reasons for this reserve have been assigned. (See Locke's Reasonableness of Christianity.) But it is not what one would have expected. We meet with it in Saint Matthew's Gospel (chap. xvi. 20): "Then charged he his disciples that they should tell no man that he was Jesus the Christ." Again, and upon a different occasion, in Saint Mark's (chap. iii. 11): "And unclean spirits, when they saw him, fell down before him, and cried, saying, Thou art the Son of God: and he straitly charged them that they should not make him known." Another instance similar to this last is recorded by Saint Luke (chap. iv. 41). What we thus find in the three evangelists, appears also in a passage of Saint John (chap. x. 24, 25): "Then came the Jews round about him, and said unto him, How long dost thou make us to doubt: If thou be the Christ, tell us plainly." The occasion here was different from any of the rest; and it was indirect. We only discover Christ's conduct through the upbraidings of his adversaries. But all this strengthens the argument. I had rather at any time surprise a coincidence in some oblique allusion than read it in broad assertions. VI. In our Lord's commerce with his disciples, one very observable particular is the difficulty which they found in understanding him when he spoke to them of the future part of his history, especially of what related to his passion or resurrection. This difficulty produced, as was natural, a wish in them to ask for further explanation: from which, however, they appear to have been sometimes kept back by the fear of giving offence. All these circumstances are distinctly noticed by Mark and Luke, upon the occasion of his informing them (probably for the first time) that the Son of man should be delivered into the hands of men. "They understood not," the evangelists tell us, "this saying, and it was hid from them, that they perceived it not; and they feared to ask him of that saying." Luke ix. 45; Mark ix. 32. In Saint John's Gospel we have, on a different occasion, and in a different instance, the same difficulty of apprehension, the same curiosity, and the same restraint:--"A little while and ye shall not see me; and again, a little while and ye shall see me, because I go to the Father. Then said some of his disciples among themselves, What is this that he saith unto us? A little while and ye shall not see me: and again, a little while and ye shall see me: and, Because I go to the Father? They said, therefore, What is this that he saith? A little while? We cannot tell what he saith. Now Jesus knew that they were desirous to ask him, and said unto them,--" &c. John xvi. 16, et seq. VII. The meekness of Christ during his last sufferings, which is conspicuous in the narratives of the first three evangelists, is preserved in that of Saint John under separate examples. The answer given by him, in Saint John, (Chap. xviii. 20, 21.) when the high priest asked him of his disciples and his doctrine; "I spake openly to the world: I ever taught in the synagogue, and in the temple, whither the Jews always resort; and in secret have I said nothing. Why askest thou me? ask them which heard me what I have said unto them," is very much of a piece with his reply to the armed party which seized him, as we read it in Saint Mark's Gospel, and in Saint Luke's:(Mark xiv. 48. Luke xxii. 52.) "Are you come out as against a thief, with swords and with staves to take me? I was daily with you in the temple teaching, and ye took me not." In both answers we discern the same tranquillity, the same reference to his public teaching. His mild expostulation with Pilate, on two several occasions, as related by Saint John, (Chap. xviii. 34; xix. 11.) is delivered with the same unruffled temper as that which conducted him through the last scene of his life, as described by his other evangelists. His answer, in Saint John's Gospel, to the officer who struck him with the palm of his hand, "If I have spoken evil, bear witness of the evil; but if well, why smitest thou me?" (Chap. xviii. 23.) was such an answer as might have been looked for from the person who, as he proceeded to the place of execution, bid his companions (as we are told by Saint Luke; Chap. xxiii. 28.) weep not for him, but for themselves, their posterity, and their country; and who, whilst he was suspended upon the cross, prayed for his murderers, "for they know not," said he, "what they do." The urgency also of his judges and his prosecutors to extort from him a defence to the accusation, and his unwillingness to make any (which was a peculiar circumstance), appears in Saint John's account, as well as in that of the other evangelists. (See John xix. 9. Matt. xxvii. 14. Luke xxiii. 9.) There are, moreover, two other correspondencies between Saint John's history of the transaction and theirs, of a kind somewhat different from those which we have been now mentioning. The first three evangelists record what is called our Saviour's agony, i.e. his devotion in the garden immediately before he was apprehended; in which narrative they all make him pray "that the cup might pass from him." This is the particular metaphor which they all ascribe to him. Saint Matthew adds, "O, my Father, if this cup may not pass away from me, except I drink it, thy will be done." (Chap, xxvi. 42.) Now Saint John does not give the scene in the garden: but when Jesus was seized, and some resistance was attempted to be made by Peter, Jesus, according to his account, checked the attempt, with this reply: "Put up thy sword into the sheath; the cup which my Father hath given me, shall I not drink it?" (Chap. xviii. 11.) This is something more than consistency---it is coincidence; because it is extremely natural that Jesus, who, before he was apprehended, had been praying his Father that "that cup might pass from him," yet with such a pious retraction of his request as to have added, "If this cup may not pass from me, thy will be done;" it was natural, I say, for the same person, when he actually was apprehended, to express the resignation to which he had already made up his thoughts, and to express it in the form of speech which he had before used, "The cup which my Father hath given me, shall I not drink it?" This is a coincidence between writers in whose narratives there is no imitation, but great diversity. A second similar correspondency is the following: Matthew and Mark make the charge upon which our Lord was condemned to be a threat of destroying the temple; "We heard him say, I will destroy this temple made with hands, and within three days I will build another made without hands:" (Mark xiv. 58.) but they neither of them inform us upon what circumstance this calumny was founded. Saint John, in the early part of the history, (Chap. ii. 19.) supplies us with this information; for he relates, that on our Lord's first journey to Jerusalem, when the Jews asked him "What sign showest thou unto us, seeing that thou doest these things? He answered, Destroy this temple, and in three days I will raise it up." This agreement could hardly arise from anything but the truth of the case. From any care or design in Saint John to make his narrative tally with the narratives of other evangelists, it certainly did not arise, for no such design appears, but the absence of it. A strong and more general instance of agreement is the following.--The first three evangelists have related the appointment of the twelve apostles; (Matt. x. 1. Mark iii. 14. Luke vi. 12.) and have given a catalogue of their names in form. John, without ever mentioning the appointment, or giving the catalogue, supposes, throughout his whole narrative, Christ to be accompanied by a select party of disciples; the number of these to be twelve; (Chap. vi. 70.) and whenever he happens to notice any one as of that number, (Chap. xx, 24; vi. 71.) it is one included in the catalogue of the other evangelists: and the names principally occurring in the course of his history of Christ are the names extant in their list. This last agreement, which is of considerable moment, runs through every Gospel, and through every chapter of each. All this bespeaks reality. CHAPTER V. ORIGINALITY OF OUR SAVIOUR'S CHARACTER. The Jews, whether right or wrong, had understood their prophecies to foretell the advent of a person who by some supernatural assistance should advance their nation to independence, and to a supreme degree of splendour and prosperity. This was the reigning opinion and expectation of the times. Now, had Jesus been an enthusiast, it is probable that his enthusiasm would have fallen in with the popular delusion, and that, while he gave himself out to be the person intended by these predictions, he would have assumed the character to which they were universally supposed to relate. Had he been an impostor, it was his business to have flattered the prevailing hopes, because these hopes were to be the instruments of his attraction and success. But what is better than conjectures is the fact, that all the pretended Messiahs actually did so. We learn from Josephus that there were many of these. Some of them, it is probable, might be impostors, who thought that an advantage was to be taken of the state of public opinion. Others, perhaps, were enthusiasts, whose imagination had been drawn to this particular object by the language and sentiments which prevailed around them. But whether impostors or enthusiasts, they concurred in producing themselves in the character which their countrymen looked for, that is to say, as the restorers and deliverers of the nation, in that sense in which restoration and deliverance were expected by the Jews. Why therefore Jesus, if he was, like them, either an enthusiast or impostor, did not pursue the same conduct as they did, in framing his character and pretensions, it will be found difficult to explain. A mission, the operation and benefit of which was to take place in another life, was a thing unthought of as the subject of these prophecies. That Jesus, coming to them as their Messiah, should come under a character totally different from that in which they expected him; should deviate from the general persuasion, and deviate into pretensions absolutely singular and original--appears to be inconsistent with the imputation of enthusiasm or imposture, both which by their nature I should expect would, and both which, throughout the experience which this very subject furnishes, in fact, have followed the opinions that obtained at the time. If it be said that Jesus, having tried the other plan, turned at length to this; I answer, that the thing is said without evidence; against evidence; that it was competent to the rest to have done the same, yet that nothing of this sort was thought of by any. CHAPTER VI. One argument which has been much relied upon (but not more than its just weight deserves) is the conformity of the facts occasionally mentioned or referred to in Scripture with the state of things in those times, as represented by foreign and independent accounts; which conformity proves, that the writers of the New Testament possessed a species of local knowledge which could belong only to an inhabitant of that country and to one living in that age. This argument, if well made out by examples, is very little short of proving the absolute genuineness of the writings. It carries them up to the age of the reputed authors, to an age in which it must have been difficult to impose upon the Christian public forgeries in the names of those authors, and in which there is no evidence that any forgeries were attempted. It proves, at least, that the books, whoever were the authors of them, were composed by persons living in the time and country in which these things were transacted; and consequently capable, by their situation, of being well informed of the facts which they relate. And the argument is stronger when applied to the New Testament, than it is in the case of almost any other writings, by reason of the mixed nature of the allusions which this book contains. The scene of action is not confined to a single country, but displayed in the greatest cities of the Roman empire. Allusions are made to the manners and principles of the Greeks, the Romans, and the Jews. This variety renders a forgery proportionably more difficult, especially to writers of a posterior age. A Greek or Roman Christian who lived in the second or third century would have been wanting in Jewish literature; a Jewish convert in those ages would have been equally deficient in the knowledge of Greece and Rome. (Michaelis's Introduction to the New Testament [Marsh's translation], c. ii. sect. xi.) This, however, is an argument which depends entirely upon an induction of particulars; and as, consequently, it carries with it little force without a view of the instances upon which it is built, I have to request the reader's attention to a detail of examples, distinctly and articulately proposed. In collecting these examples I have done no more than epitomise the first volume of the first part of Dr. Lardner's Credibility of the Gospel History. And I have brought the argument within its present compass, first, by passing over some of his sections in which the accordancy appeared to me less certain, or upon subjects not sufficiently appropriate or circumstantial; secondly, by contracting every section into the fewest words possible, contenting myself for the most part with a mere apposition of passages; and, thirdly, by omitting many disquisitions, which, though learned and accurate, are not absolutely necessary to the understanding or verification of the argument. The writer principally made use of in the inquiry is Josephus. Josephus was born at Jerusalem four years after Christ's ascension. He wrote his history of the Jewish war some time after the destruction of Jerusalem, which happened in the year of our Lord LXX, that is, thirty-seven years after the ascension; and his history of the Jews he finished in the year xciii, that is, sixty years after the ascension. At the head of each article I have referred, by figures included in brackets, to the page of Dr. Lardner's volume where the section from which the abridgment is made begins. The edition used is that of 1741. I. [p. 14.] Matt. ii. 22. "When he (Joseph) heard that Archclaus did reign in Judea in the room of his father Herod, he was afraid to go thither: notwithstanding, being warned of God in a dream, he turned aside into the parts of Galilee." II. In this passage it is asserted that Archclaus succeeded Herod in Judea; and it is implied that his power did not extend to Galilee. Now we learn from Josephus that Herod the Great, whose dominion included all the land of Israel, appointed Archelaus his successor in Judea, and assigned the rest of his dominions to other sons; and that this disposition was ratified, as to the main parts of it, by the Roman emperor (Ant. lib. xvi. c. 8, sect. 1.). Saint Matthew says that Archclaus reigned, was king, in Judea. Agreeably to this, we are informed by Josephus, not only that Herod appointed Archclaus his successor in Judea, but that he also appointed him with the title of King; and the Greek verb basileuei, which the evangelist uses to denote the government and rank of Archclaus, is used likewise by Josephus (De Bell. lib. i. c. 3,3, sect. 7.). The cruelty of Archelaus's character, which is not obscurely intimated by the evangelist, agrees with divers particulars in his history preserved by Josephus:--"In the tenth year of his government, the chief of the Jews and Samaritans, not being able to endure his cruelty and tyranny, presented complaints against him to Caesar." (Ant, lib. xii. 13, sect. 1.) II. [p. 19.] Luke iii. 1. "In the fifteenth year of the reign of Tiberius Caesar--Herod being tetrarch of Galilee, and his brother Philip tetrarch of Iturea, and of the region of Trachonitis--the word of God came unto John." By the will of Herod the Great, and the decree of Augustus thereupon, his two sons were appointed, one (Herod Antipus) tetrarch of Galilee and Peraea, and the other (Philip) tetrarch of Trachonitis and the neighbouring countries. (Ant. lib. xvii. c. 8, sect. 1.) We have, therefore, these two persons in the situations in which Saint Luke places them; and also, that they were in these situations in the fifteenth year of Tiberius; in other words, that they continued in possession of their territories and titles until that time, and afterwards, appears from a passage of Josephus, which relates of Herod, "that he was removed by Caligula, the successor of Tiberius;" (Ant. lib. xviii. c. 8, sect. 2.) and of Philip, that he died in the twentieth year of Tiberius, when he had governed Trachonitis and Batanea and Gaulanitis thirty-seven years. (Ant. lib. xviii. c. 5, sect. 6.) III. [p. 20.] Mark vi. 17. "Herod had sent forth, and laid hold upon John, and bound him in prison, for Heredias' sake, his brother Philip's wife: for he had married her." (See also Matt. xiv. 1--13; Luke iii. 19.) With this compare Joseph. Antiq. 1. xviii. c. 6, sect. 1:--"He (Herod the tetrareh) made a visit to Herod his brother.--Here, failing in love with Herodias, the wife of the said Herod, he ventured to make her proposals of marriage."* _________ * The affinity of the two accounts is unquestionable; but there is a difference in the name of Herodias's first husband, which in the evangelist is Philip; in Josephus, Herod. The difficulty, however, will not appear considerable when we recollect how common it was in those times for the same persons to bear two names. "Simon, which is called Peter; Lebbeus, whose surname is Thaddeus; Thomas, which is called Didymus; Simeon, who was called Niger; Saul, who was also called Paul." The solution is rendered likewise easier in the present case by the consideration that Herod the Great had children by seven or eight wives; that Josephus mentions three of his sons under the name of Herod; that it is nevertheless highly probable that the brothers bore some additional name by which they were distinguished from one another. Lardner, vol. ii. p. 897. _________ Again, Mark vi. 22. "And when the daughter of the said Herodias came in and danced." With this also compare Joseph. Antiq. 1. xviii. c. 6, sect. 4. "Herodias was married to Herod, son of Herod the Great. They had a daughter, whose name was Salome; after whose birth Herodias, in utter violation of the laws of her country, left her husband, then living, and married Herod the tetrarch of Galilee, her husband's brother by the father's side." IV. [p. 29.] Acts xii. 1. "Now, about that time, Herod the king stretched forth his hands, to vex certain of the church." In the conclusion of the same chapter, Herod's death is represented to have taken place soon after this persecution. The accuracy of our historian, or, rather, the unmeditated coincidence which truth of its own accord produces, is in this instance remarkable. There was no portion of time for thirty years before, nor ever afterwards, in which there was a king at Jerusalem, a person exercising that authority in Judea, or to whom that title could be applied, except the last three years of this Herod's life, within which period the transaction recorded in the Acts is stated to have taken place. This prince was the grandson of Herod the Great. In the Acts he appears under his family-name of Herod; by Josephus he was called Agrippa. For proof that he was a king, properly so called, we have the testimony of Josephus, in full and direct terms:--"Sending for him to his palace, Caligula put a crown upon his head, and appointed him king of the tetrarchie of Philip, intending also to give him the tetrarchie of Lysanias." (Antiq. xviii. c. 7, sect. 10.) And that Judea was at last, but not until the last, included in his dominions, appears by a subsequent passage of the same Josephus, wherein he tells us that Claudius, by a decree, confirmed to Agrippa the dominion which Caligula had given him; adding also Judea and Samaria, in the utmost extent, as possessed by his grandfather Herod (Antiq. xix. c. 5, sect. 1.). V. [p. 32.] Acts xii. 19--23. "And he (Herod) went down from Judea to Cesarea, and there abode. And on a set day Herod, arrayed in royal apparel, sat upon his throne, and made an oration unto them: and the people gave a shout, saying, It is the voice of a god, and not of a man; and immediately the angel of the Lord smote him, because he gave not God the glory: and he was eaten of worms, and gave up the ghost." Joseph. Antiq. lib. xix. c. 8, sect. 2. "He went to the city of Cesarea. Here he celebrated shows in honour of Caesar. On the second day of the shows, early in the morning, he came into the theatre, dressed in a robe of silver, of most curious workmanship. The rays of the rising sun, reflected from such a splendid garb, gave him a majestic and awful appearance. They called him a god; and intreated him to be propitious to them, saying, Hitherto we have respected you as a man; but now we acknowledge you to be more than mortal. The king neither reproved these persons, nor rejected the impious flattery. Immediately after this he was seized with pains in his bowels, extremely violent at the very first. He was carried therefore with all haste to his palace. These pains continually tormenting him, he expired in five days' time." The reader will perceive the accordancy of these accounts in various particulars. The place (Cesarea), the set day, the gorgeous dress, the acclamations of the assembly, the peculiar turn of the flattery, the reception of it, the sudden and critical incursion of the disease, are circumstances noticed in both narratives. The worms mentioned by Saint Luke are not remarked by Josephus; but the appearance of these is a symptom not unusually, I believe, attending the disease which Josephus describes, viz., violent affections of the bowels. VI. [p. 41.] Acts xxiv. 24. "And after certain days, when Felix came with his wife Drusilla, which was a Jewess, he sent for Paul." Joseph. Antiq. lib. xx. c. 6, sect. 1, 2. "Agrippa gave his sister Drusilla in marriage to Azizus, king of the Emesenes, when he had consented to be circumcised.--But this marriage of Drusilla with Azizus was dissolved in a short time after, in this manner:--When Felix was procurator of Judea, having had a sight of her, he was mightily taken with her.--She was induced to transgress the laws of her country, and marry Felix." Here the public station of Felix, the name of his wife, and the singular circumstance of her religion, all appear in perfect conformity with the evangelist. VII. [p. 46.] Acts xxv. 13. "And after certain days king Agrippa and Berenice came to Cesarea to salute Festus." By this passage we are in effect told that Agrippa was a king, but not of Judea; for he came to salute Festus, who at this time administered the government of that country at Cesarea. Now, how does the history of the age correspond with this account? The Agrippa here spoken of was the son of Herod Agrippa, mentioned in the last article; but that he did not succeed to his father's kingdom, nor ever recovered Judea, which had been a part of it, we learn by the information of Josephus, who relates of him that when his father was dead Claudius intended at first to have put him immediately in possession of his father's dominions; but that, Agrippa being then but seventeen years of age, the emperor was persuaded to alter his mind, and appointed Cuspius Fadus prefect of Judea and the whole kingdom; (Antiq. xi. c. 9 ad fin.) which Fadus was succeeded by Tiberius Alexander, Cumanus, Felix, Festus. (Antiq. xx. de Bell. lib. ii.) But that, though disappointed of his father's kingdom, in which was included Judea, he was, nevertheless, rightly styled King Agrippa, and that he was in possession of considerable territories, bordering upon Judea, we gather from the same authority: for, after several successive donations of country, "Claudius, at the same time that he sent Felix to be procurator of Judea, promoted Agrippa from Chalcis to a greater kingdom, giving to him the tetrarchie which had been Philip's; and he added, moreover, the kingdom of Lysanias, and the province that had belonged to Varus." (De Bell. lib. li. c. 12 ad fin.) Saint Paul addresses this person as a Jew: "King Agrippa, believest thou the prophets? I know that thou believest." As the son of Herod Agrippa, who is described by Josephus to have been a zealous Jew, it is reasonable to suppose that he maintained the same profession. But what is more material to remark, because it is more close and circumstantial, is, that Saint Luke, speaking of the father (Acts xii. 1--3), calls him Herod the, king, and gives an example of the exercise of his authority at Jerusalem: speaking of the son (xxv. 13), he calls him king, but not of Judea; which distinction agrees correctly with the history. VIII. [p. 51.] Acts xiii. 6. "And when they had gone through the isle (Cyprus) to Paphos, they found a certain sorcerer, a false prophet, a Jew, whose name was Bar-jesus, which was with the deputy of the country, Sergius Paulus, a prudent man." The word which is here translated deputy, signifies and upon this word our observation is founded. The provinces of the Roman empire were of two kinds; those belonging the emperor, in which the governor was called proprietor; those belonging to the senate, in which the governor was proconsul. And this was a regular distinction. Now it appears from Dio Cassius, (Lib. liv. ad A. U. 732.) that the province of Cyprus, which, in original distribution, was assigned to the emperor, had transferred to the senate, in exchange for some others; and after this exchange, the appropriate title of the Roman was proconsul. Ib. xviii. 12. [p. 55.] "And when Gallio was deputy (proconsul) of Achaia." The propriety of the title "proconsul" is in this still more critical. For the province of Achaia, after passing from the senate to the emperor, had been restored again by the emperor Claudius to the senate (and consequently its government had become proconsular) only six or seven years before the time in which this transaction is said to have taken place. (Suet. in Claud. c. xxv. Dio, lib. lxi.) And what confines with strictness the appellation to the time is, that Achaia under the following reign ceased to be a Roman province at all. IX. [p. 152.] It appears, as well from the general constitution of a Roman province, as from what Josephus delivers concerning the state of Judea in particular, (Antiq. lib. xx. c. 8, sect. 5; c. 1, sect. 2.) that the power of life and death resided exclusively in the Roman governor; but that the Jews, nevertheless, had magistrates and a council, invested with a subordinate and municipal authority. This economy is discerned in every part of the Gospel narrative of our Saviour's crucifixion. X. [p. 203.] Acts ix. 31. "Then had the churches rest throughout all Judea and Galilee and Samaria." This rest synchronises with the attempt of Caligula to place his statue in the temple of Jerusalem; the threat of which outrage produced amongst the Jews a consternation that, for a season, diverted their attention from every other object. (Joseph. de Bell lib. Xi. c. 13, sect. 1, 3, 4.) XI. [p. 218.] Acts xxi. 30. "And they took Paul, and drew him out of the temple; and forthwith the doors were shut. And as they went about to kill him, tidings came to the chief captain of the band that all Jerusalem was in an uproar. Then the chief captain came near, and took him and commanded him to be bound with two chains, and demanded who he was, and what he had done; and some cried one thing, and some another, among the multitude: and, when he could not know the certainty for the tumult, he commanded him to be carried into the castle. And when he came upon the stairs, so it was, that he was borne of the soldiers for the violence of the people." In this quotation we have the band of Roman soldiers at Jerusalem, their office (to suppress tumults), the castle, the stairs, both, as it should seem, adjoining to the temple. Let us inquire whether we can find these particulars in any other record of that age and place. Joseph. de. Ball. lib. v. e. 5, sect. 8. "Antonia was situated at the angle of the western and northern porticoes of the outer temple. It was built upon a rock fifty cubits high, steep on all sides.--On that side where it joined to the porticoes of the temple, there were stairs reaching to each portico, by which the guard descended; for there was always lodged here a Roman legion; and posting themselves in their armour in several places in the porticoes, they kept a watch on the people on the feast-days to prevent all disorders; for as the temple was a guard to the city, so was Antonia to the temple." XII. [p. 224.] Acts iv. 1. "And as they spake unto the people, the priests, and the captain of the temple, and the Sadducees, came upon them." Here we have a public officer, under the title of captain of the temple, and he probably a Jew, as he accompanied the priests and Sadducees in apprehending the apostles. Joseph. de Bell. lib. ii. c. 17, sect. 2. "And at the temple, Eleazer, the son of Ananias the high priest, a young man of a bold and resolute disposition, then captain, persuaded those who performed the sacred ministrations not to receive the gift or sacrifice of any stranger." XIII. [p. 225.] Acts xxv. 12. "Then Festus, when he had conferred with the council, answered, Hast thou appealed unto Caesar? unto Caesar shalt thou go." That it was usual for the Roman presidents to have a council consisting of their friends, and other chief Romans in the province, appears expressly in the following passage of Cicero's oration against Verres:--"Illud negare posses, aut nunc negabis, te, concilio tuo dimisso, viris primariis, qui in consilio C. Sacerdotis fuerant, tibique esse volebant, remotis, de re judicata judicasse?" XIV. [p. 235.] Acts xvi. 13. "And (at Philippi) on the Sabbath we went out of the city by a river-side, where prayer was wont to be made," or where a proseuche, oratory, or place of prayer was allowed. The particularity to be remarked is, the situation of the place where prayer was wont to be made, viz. by a river-side. Philo, describing the conduct of the Jews of Alexandria, on a certain public occasion, relates of them, that, "early in the morning, flocking out of the gates of the city, they go to the neighbouring shores, (for the proseuchai were destroyed,) and, standing in a most pure place, they lift up their voices with one accord." (Philo in Flacc. p. 382.) Josephus gives us a decree of the city of Halicarnassus, permitting the Jews to build oratories; a part of which decree runs thus:--"We ordain that the Jews, who are willing, men and women, do observe the Sabbaths, and perform sacred rites, according to the Jewish laws, and build oratories by the sea-side." (Joseph. Antiq. lib. xiv. c. 10, sect, 24.) Tertullian, among other Jewish rites and customs, such as feasts, sabbaths, fasts, and unleavened bread, mentions "orationes literales," that is, prayers by the river-side. (Tertull. ad Nat, lib. i. c. 13.) XV. [p. 255.] Acts xxvi. 5. "After the most straitest sect of our religion, I lived a Pharisee." Joseph. de Bell. lib. i. c. 5, sect. 2. "The Pharisees were reckoned the most religious of any of the Jews, and to be the most exact and skilful in explaining the laws." In the original, there is an agreement not only in the sense but in the expression, it being the same Greek adjective which is rendered "strait" in the Acts, and "exact" in Josephus. XVI. [p. 255.] Mark vii. 3,4. "The Pharisees and all the Jews, except they wash, eat not, holding the tradition of the elders; and many other things there be which they have received to hold." Joseph. Antiq. lib. xiii. c. 10, sect. 6. "The Pharisees have delivered up to the people many institutions, as received from the fathers, which are not written in the law of Moses." XVII. [p. 259.] Acts xxiii. 8. "For the Sadducees say, that there is no resurrection, neither angel, nor spirit; but the Pharisees confess both." Joseph. de Bell. lib. ii. c. 8, sect. 14. "They (the Pharisees) believe every soul to be immortal, but that the soul of the good only passes into another body, and that the soul of the wicked is punished with eternal punishment." On the other hand (Antiq. lib. xviii. e. 1, sect. 4), "It is the opinion of the Sadducees that souls perish with the bodies." XVIII. [p. 268.] Acts v. 17. "Then the high priest rose up, and all they that were with him (which is the sect of the Sadducees), and were filled with indignation." Saint Luke here intimates that the high priest was a Sadducee; which is a character one would not have expected to meet with in that station. This circumstance, remarkable as it is, was not however without examples. Joseph. Antiq. lib. xiii. c. 10, sect. 6, 7. "John Hyreanus, high priest of the Jews, forsook the Pharisees upon a disgust, and joined himself to the party of the Sadducees." This high priest died one hundred and seven years before the Christian era. Again (Antiq. lib. xx. e. 8, sect. 1), "This Ananus the younger, who, as we have said just now, had received the high priesthood, was fierce and haughty in his behaviour, and, above all men, hold and daring, and, moreover, was of the sect of the Sadducees." This high priest lived little more than twenty years after the transaction in the Acts. XIX. [p. 282.] Luke ix. 51. "And it came to pass, when the time was come that he should be received up, he steadfastly set his face to go to Jerusalem, and sent messengers before his face. And they went, and entered into a village of the Samaritans, to make ready for him. And they did not receive him, because his face was as though he would go to Jerusalem." Joseph. Antiq. lib. xx. c. 5, sect. 1. "It was the custom of the Galileans, who went up to the holy city at the feasts, to travel through the country of Samaria. As they were in their journey, some inhabitants of the village called Ginaea, which lies on the borders of Samaria and the great plain, falling upon them, killed a great many of them." XX. [p. 278.] John iv. 20. "Our fathers," said the Samaritan woman, "worshipped in this mountain; and ye say, that Jerusalem is the place where men ought to worship." Joseph. Antiq. lib. xviii. c. 5, sect. 1. "Commanding them to meet him at mount Gerizzim, which is by them (the Samaritans) esteemed the most sacred of all mountains." XXI. [p. 312.] Matt. xxvi. 3. "Then assembled together the chief priests, and the elders of the people, unto the palace of the high priest, who was called Caiaphas." That Caiaphas was high priest, and high priest throughout the presidentship of Pontius Pilate, and consequently at this time, appears from the following account:--He was made high priest by Valerius Gratus, predecessor of Pontius Pilate, and was removed from his office by Vitellius, president of Syria, after Pilate was sent away out of the province of Judea. Josephus relates the advancement of Caiaphas to the high priesthood in this manner: "Gratus gave the high priesthood to Simon, the son of Camithus. He, having enjoyed this honour not above a year, was succeeded by Joseph, who is also called Caiaphas." (Antiq. lib. xviii. c. 2, sect. 2.) After this, Gratus went away for Rome, having been eleven years in Judea; and Pontius Pilate came thither as his successor. Of the removal of Caiaphas from his office, Josephus likewise afterwards informs us: and connects it with a circumstance which fixes the time to a date subsequent to the determination of Pilate's government--"Vitellius," he tells us; "ordered Pilate to repair to Rome: and after that, went up himself to Jerusalem, and then gave directions concerning several matters. And having done these things he took away the priesthood from the high priest Joseph, who is called Caiaphas." (Antiq. lib. xvii. c. 5, sect 3.) XXII. (Michaelis, c. xi. sect. 11.) Acts xxiii. 4. "And they that stood by said, Revilest thou God's high priest? Then said Paul, I wist not, brethren, that he was the high priest?" Now, upon inquiry into the history of the age, it turns out that Ananias, of whom this is spoken, was, in truth, not the high priest, though he was sitting in judgment in that assumed capacity. The case was, that he had formerly holden the office, and had been deposed; that the person who succeeded him had been murdered; that another was not yet appointed to the station; and that during the vacancy, he had, of his own authority, taken upon himself the discharge of the office. (Joseph. Antiq. 1. xx. c. 5, sect. 2; c. 6, sect. 2; c. 9, sect. 2.) This singular situation of the high priesthood took place during the interval between the death of Jonathan, who was murdered by order of Felix, and the accession of Ismael, who was invested with the high priesthood by Agrippa; and precisely in this interval it happened that Saint Paul was apprehended, and brought before the Jewish council. XXIII. [p. 323.] Matt. xxvi. 59. "Now the chief priests and elders, and all the council, sought false witness against him." Joseph. Antiq. lib. xviii. e. 15, sect. 3, 4. "Then might be seen the high priests themselves with ashes on their heads and their breasts naked." The agreement here consists in speaking of the high priests or chief priests (for the name in the original is the same) in the plural number, when in strictness there was only one high priest: which may be considered as a proof that the evangelists were habituated to the manner of speaking then in use, because they retain it when it is neither accurate nor just. For the sake of brevity, I have put down from Josephus only a single example of the application of this title in the plural number; but it is his usual style. Ib. [p. 871.] Luke ill. 1. "Now in the fifteenth year of the reign of Tiberius Caesar, Pontius Pilate being governor of Juries, and Herod being tetrarch of Galilee, Annas and Caiaphas being the high priests, the word of God came unto John." There is a passage in Josephus very nearly parallel to this, and which may at least serve to vindicate the evangelist from objection, with respect to his giving the title of high priest specifically to two persons at the same time: "Quadratus sent two others of the most powerful men of the Jews, as also the high priests Jonathan and Ananias." (De Bell. lib. ix. c. 12, sect. 6.) That Annas was a person in an eminent station, and possessed an authority coordinate with, or next to, that of the high print properly so called, may he inferred from Saint John's Gospel, which in the history of Christ's crucifixion relates that "the soldiers led him away to Annas first." (xviii.13.) And this might be noticed as an example of undesigned coincidence in the two evangelists. Again, [p. 870.] Acts iv. 6. Annas is called the high priest, though Caiaphas was in the office of the high priesthood. In like manner in Josephus, (Lib. ii. c. 20, sect. 3.) "Joseph the son of Gorion, and the high priest Ananus, were chosen to be supreme governors of all things in the city." Yet Ananus, though here called the high priest Ananus, was not then in the office of the high priesthood. The truth is, there is an indeterminateness in the use of this title in the Gospel:(Mark xiv. 53.) sometimes it is applied exclusively to the person who held the office at the time; sometimes to one or two more, who probably shared with him some of the powers or functions of the office; and sometimes to such of the priests as were eminent by their station or character; and there is the very same indeterminateness in Josephus. XXIV. [p. 347.] John xix. 19, 20. "And Pilate wrote a title, and put it on the cross." That such was the custom of the Romans on these occasions appears from passages of Suetonius and Dio Cassius: "Pattrem familias--canibus objecit, cure hoc titulo, Impie locutus parmularius." Suet. Domit. cap. x. And in Dio Cassius we have the following: "Having led him through the midst of the court or assembly, with a writing signifying the cause of his death, and afterwards crucifying him." Book liv. Ib. "And it was written in Hebrew, Greek, and Latin." That it was also usual about this time in Jerusalem to set up advertisements in different languages, is gathered from the account which Josephus gives of an expostulatory message from Titus to the Jews when the city was almost in his hands; in which he says, Did ye not erect pillars with inscriptions on them, in the Greek and in our language, "Let no one pass beyond these bounds"? XXV. [p. 352.] Matt. xxvii. 26. "When he had scourged Jesus, he delivered him to be crucified." The following passages occur in Josephus: "Being beaten, they were crucified opposite to the citadel." (P. 1247, edit. 24 Huds.) "Whom, having first scourged with whips, he crucified." (P. 1080, edit. 45.) "He was burnt alive, having been first beaten." (P. 1327, edit. 43.) To which may he added one from Livy, lib. xi. c. 5. "Pro ductique omnes, virgisqus caesi, ac securi percussi." A modern example may illustrate the use we make of this instance. The preceding of a capital execution by the corporal punishment of the sufferer is a practice unknown in England, but retained, in some instances at least, as appears by the late execution of a regicide in Sweden. This circumstance, therefore, in the account of an English execution, purporting to come from an English writer, would not only bring a suspicion upon the truth of the account, but would in a considerable degree impeach its pretensions of having been written by the author whose name it bore. Whereas, the same circumstance in the account of a Swedish execution would verify the account, and support the authenticity of the book in which it was found, or, at least, would prove that the author, whoever he was, possessed the information and the knowledge which he ought to possess. XXVI. [p. 353.] John xix. 16. "And they took Jesus, and led him away; and he bearing his cross went forth." Plutarch, De iis qui sero puniuntur, p. 554; a Paris, 1624. "Every kind of wickedness produces its own particular torment; just as every malefactor, when he is brought forth to execution, carries his own cross." XXVII. John xix. 32. "Then came the soldiers and brake the legs of the first, and of the other which was crucified with him." Constantine abolished the punishment of the cross: in commending which edict, a heathen writer notices this very circumstance of breaking the legs: "Eo pius, ut etiam vetus veterrimumque supplicium, patibulum, et cruribus suffringendis, primus removerit." Aur. Vict Ces. cap. xli. XXVIII. [p. 457.] Acts iii. 1. "Now Peter and John went up together into the temple, at the hour of prayer, being the ninth hour." Joseph. Antiq. lib xv. e. 7, sect. 8. "Twice every day, in the morning and at the ninth hour, the priests perform their, duty at the altar." XXIX. [p. 462.] Acts xv. 21. "For Moses of old time hath, in every city, them that preach him, being read in the synagogues every Sabbath-day." Joseph. contra Ap. 1. ii. "He (Moses) gave us the law, the most excellent of all institutions; nor did he appoint that it should be heard once only, or twice, or often, but that, laying aside all other works, we should meet together every week to hear it read, and gain a perfect understanding of it." XXX. [p. 465.] Acts xxi. 23. "We have four men which have a vow on them; them take, and purify thyself with them that they may shave their heads." Joseph. de Bell. 1. xi. c. 15. "It is customary for those who have been afflicted with some distemper, or have laboured under any other difficulties, to make a vow thirty days before they offer sacrifices, to abstain from wine, and shave the hair of their heads." Ib. v. 24. "Them take, and purify thyself with them, and be at charges with them, that they may shave their heads." Joseph. Antiq. 1. xix. c. 6. "He (Herod Agrippa) coming to Jerusalem, offered up sacrifices of thanksgiving, and omitted nothing that was prescribed by the law. For which reason he also ordered a good number of Nazarites to be shaved." We here find that it was an act of piety amongst the Jews to defray for those who were under the Nazaritic vow the expenses which attended its completion; and that the phrase was, "that they might be saved." The custom and the expression are both remarkable, and both in close conformity with the Scripture account. XXXI. [p. 474.] 2 Cor. xi. 24. "Of the Jews, five times received I forty stripes save one." Joseph. Antiq. iv. c. 8, sect. 21. "He that acts contrary hereto let him receive forty stripes, wanting one, from the officer." The coincidence here is singular, because the law allowed forty stripes:--"Forty stripes he may give him and not exceed." Deut. xxv. 3. It proves that the author of the Epistle to the Corinthians was guided not by books, but by facts; because his statement agrees with the actual custom, even when that custom deviated from the written law, and from what he must have learnt by consulting the Jewish code, as set forth in the Old Testament. XXXII. [p. 490.] Luke iii. 12. "Then came also publicans to be baptized." From this quotation, as well as from the history of Levi or Matthew (Luke v. 29), and of Zaccheus (Luke xix. 2), it appears that the publicans or tax-gatherers were, frequently at least, if not always, Jews: which, as the country was then under a Roman government, and the taxes were paid to the Romans, was a circumstance not to be expected. That it was the truth, however, of the case appears from a short passage of Josephus. De Bell. lib. ii. c. 14, sect. 45. "But Florus not restraining these practices by his authority, the chief men of the Jews, among whom was John the publican, not knowing well what course to take, wait upon Florus and give him eight talents of silver to stop the building." XXXIII. [p. 496.] Acts xxii. 25. "And as they bound him with thongs, Paul said unto the centurion that stood by, Is it lawful for you to scourge a man that is a Roman and uncondemned?" "Facinus est vinciri civem Romanum; scelus verberari." Cic. in Verr. "Caedebatur virgis, in medio foro Messanae, civis Romanus, Judices: cum interea nullus gemitus, nulla vox alia, istius miseri inter dolorem crepitumque plagarum audiebatur, nisi haec, Civis Romanus sum." XXXIV. [p. 513] Acts xxii. 27. "Then the chief captain came, and said unto him (Paul), Tell me, Art thou a Roman? He said Yea." The circumstance to be here noticed is, that a Jew was a Roman citizen. Joseph. Antiq. lib. xiv. c. 10, sect. 13. "Lucius Lentulna, the consul, declared, I have dismissed from the service the Jewish Roman citizens, who observe the rites of the Jewish religion at Ephesus." Ib. ver. 28. "And the chief captain answered, with a great sum obtained I this freedom." Dio Cassius, lib. lx. "This privilege, which had been bought formerly at a great price, became so cheap, that it was commonly said a man might be made a Roman citizen for a few pieces of broken glass." XXXV. [p. 521.] Acts xxviii. 16. "And when we came to Rome the centurion delivered the prisoners to the captain of the guard; but Paul was suffered to dwell by himself, with a soldier that kept him." With which join vet. 20. "For the hope of Israel, I am bound with this chain." "Quemadmedum cadem catean et custodiam et militem copulat; sic ista, quae tam dissimilia sunt, pariter incedunt." Seneca, Ep. v. "Proconsul estimare solet, utrum in carcerera recipienda sit persona, an militi tradenda." Ulpian. l. i. sect. De Custod. et Exhib. Reor. In the confinement of Agrippa by the order of Tiberius, Antonia managed that the centurion who presided over the guards, and the soldier to whom Agrippa was to be bound, might be men of mild character. (Joseph. Antiq. lib. xviii. c. 7, sect. 5.) After the accession of Caligula, Agrippa also, like Paul, was suffered to dwell, yet as a prisoner, in his own house. XXXVI. [p. 531.] Acts xxvii. 1. "And when it was determined that we should sail into Italy, they delivered Paul, and certain other prisoners, unto one named Julius." Since not only Paul, but certain other prisoners were sent by the same ship into Italy, the text must be considered as carrying with it an intimation that the sending of persons from Judea to be tried at Rome was an ordinary practice. That in truth it was so, is made out by a variety of examples which the writings of Josephus furnish: and, amongst others, by the following, which comes near both to the time and the subject of the instance in the Acts. "Felix, for some slight offence, bound and sent to Rome several priests of his acquaintance, and very good and honest men, to answer for themselves to Caesar." Joseph. in Vit. sect. 3. XXXVII. [p. 539.] Acts xi. 27. "And in these days came prophets from Jerusalem unto Antioch; and there stood up one of them, named Agabus, and signified by the Spirit that there should be a great dearth throughout all the world (or all the country); which came to pass in the days of Claudius Caesar." Joseph. Antiq. 1. xx. c. 4, sect. 2. "In their time (i. e. about the fifth or sixth year of Claudius) a great dearth happened in Judea." XXXVIII. [p. 555.] Acts xviii. 1, 2. "Because that Claudius had commanded all Jews to depart from Rome." Suet. Gland. c. xxv. "Judeos, impulsero Chresto assidue tumultuantes, Roma expulit." XXXIX. [p. 664.] Acts v. 37. "After this man, rose up Judas of Galilee, in the days of the taxing, and drew away much people after him." Joseph. de Bell. 1. vii. "He (viz. the person who in another place is called, by Josephus, Judas the Galilean, or Judas of Galilee) persuaded not a few to enrol themselves when Cyrenius the censor was sent into Judea." XL. [p. 942.] Acts xxi. 38. "Art not thou that Egyptian which, before these days, madest an uproar, and leddest out into the wilderness four thousand men that were murderers?" Joseph. de Bell. 1. ii. c. 13, sect. 5. "But the Egyptian false prophet brought a yet heavier disaster upon the Jews; for this impostor, coming into the country, and gaining the reputation of a prophet, gathered together thirty thousand men, who were deceived by him. Having brought them round out of the wilderness, up to the mount of Olives, he intended from thence to make his attack upon Jerusalem; but Felix, coming suddenly upon him with the Roman soldiers, prevented the attack.--A great number, or (as it should rather be rendered) the greatest part, of those that were with him were either slain or taken prisoners." In these two passages, the designation of this impostor, an "Egyptian," without the proper name, "the wilderness ;" his escape, though his followers were destroyed; the time of the transaction, in the presidentship of Felix, which could not be any long time before the words in Luke are supposed to have been spoken; are circumstances of close correspondency. There is one, and only one, point of disagreement, and that is, in the number of his followers, which in the Acts are called four thousand, and by Josephus thirty thousand: but, beside that the names of numbers, more than any other words, are liable to the errors of transcribers, we are in the present instance under the less concern to reconcile the evangelist with Josephus, as Josephus is not, in this point, consistent with himself. For whereas, in the passage here quoted, he calls the number thirty thousand, and tells us that the greatest part, or a great number (according as his words are rendered) of those that were with him were destroyed; in his Antiquities he represents four hundred to have been killed upon this occasion, and two hundred taken prisoners:(Lib. xx. c. 7, sect. 6.) which certainly was not the "greatest part," nor "a great part," nor "a great number," out of thirty thousand. It is probable, also, that Lysias and Josephus spoke of the expedition in its different stages: Lysias, of those who followed the Egyptian out of Jerusalem; Josephus, of all who were collected about him afterwards, from different quarters. XLI. (Lardner's Jewish and Heathen Testimonies, vol. iii p. 21.) Acts xvii. 22. "Then Paul stood in the midst of Marshill, and said, Ye men of Athens, I perceive that in all things ye are too superstitious; for, as I passed by and beheld your devotions, I found an altar with this inscription, TO THE UNKNOWN GOD. Whom therefore ye ignorantly worship, him declare I unto you." Diogenes Laertius, who wrote about the year 210, in his history of Epimenides, who is supposed to have flourished nearly six hundred years before Christ, relates of him the following story: that, being invited to Athens for the purpose, he delivered the city from a pestilence in this manner;--"Taking several sheep, some black, others white, he had them up to the Areopagus, and then let them go where they would, and gave orders to those who followed them, wherever any of them should lie down, to sacrifice it to the god to whom it belonged; and so the plague ceased.--Hence," says the historian, "it has come to pass, that to this present time may be found in the boroughs of the Athenians ANONYMOUS altars: a memorial of the expiation then made." (In Epimenide, l. i. segm. 110.) These altars, it may be presumed, were called anonymous because there was not the name of any particular deity inscribed upon them. Pausanias, who wrote before the end of the second century, in his description of Athens, having mentioned an altar of Jupiter Olympius, adds, "And nigh unto it is an altar of unknown gods." (Paus. l. v. p. 412.) And in another place, he speaks "of altars of gods called unknown." (Paus. l. i. p. 4.) Philostratus, who wrote in the beginning of the third century; records it as an observation of Apollonius Tyanseus, "That it was wise to speak well of all the gods, especially at Athens, where altars of unknown demons were erected." (Philos. Apoll. Tyan. l. vi. c. 3.) The author of the dialogue Philoparis by many supposed to have been Lucian, who wrote about the year 170, by others some anonymous Heathen writer of the fourth century, makes Critias swear by the unknown god of Athens; and, near time end of the dialogue, has these words, "But let us find out the unknown god at Athens, and, stretching our hands to heaven, offer to him our praises and thanksgivings." (Lucian. in Philop. tom. ii. Graev. pp. 767, 780.) This is a very curious and a very important coincidence. It appears beyond controversy, that altars with this inscription were existing at Athens at the time when Saint Paul is alleged to have been there. It seems also (which is very worthy of observation) that this inscription was peculiar to the Athenians. There is no evidence that there were altars inscribed "to the unknown god" in any other country. Supposing the history of Saint Paul to have been a fable, how is it possible that such a writer as the author of the Acts of the Apostles was should hit upon a circumstance so extraordinary, and introduce it by an allusion so suitable to Saint Paul's office and character? The examples here collected will be sufficient, I hope, to satisfy us that the writers of the Christian history knew something of what they were writing about. The argument is also strengthened by the following considerations: I. That these agreements appear not only in articles of public history, but sometimes in minute, recondite, and very peculiar circumstances, in which, of all others, a forger is most likely to have been found tripping. II. That the destruction of Jerusalem, which took place forty years after the commencement of the Christian institution, produced such a change in the state of the country, and the condition of the Jews, that a writer who was unacquainted with the circumstances of the nation before that event would find it difficult to avoid mistakes, in endeavouring to give detailed accounts of transactions connected with those circumstances, forasmuch as he could no longer have a living exemplar to copy from. III. That there appears, in the writers of the New Testament, a knowledge of the affairs of those times which we do not find in authors of later ages. In particular, "many of the Christian writers of the second and third centuries, and of the following ages, had false notions concerning the state of Judea between the nativity of Jesus and the destruction of Jerusalem." (Lardner, part i. vol. ii. p. 960.) Therefore they could not have composed our histories. Amidst so many conformities we are not to wonder that we meet with some difficulties. The principal of these I will put down, together with the solutions which they have received. But in doing this I must be contented with a brevity better suited to the limits of my volume than to the nature of a controversial argument. For the historical proofs of my assertions, and for the Greek criticisms upon which some of them are founded, I refer the reader to the second volume of the first part of Dr. Lardner's large work. I. The taxing during which Jesus was born was "first made," as we read, according to our translation, in Saint Luke, "whilst Cyrenius was governor of Syria." (Chap. ii. ver. 2.) Now it turns out that Cyrenius was not governor of Syria until twelve, or at the soonest, ten years after the birth of Christ; and that a taxing census, or assessment, was made in Judea, in the beginning of his government, The charge, therefore, brought against the evangelist is, that, intending to refer to this taxing, he has misplaced the date of it by an error of ten or twelve years. The answer to the accusation is founded in his using the word "first:"--"And this taxing was first made:" for, according to the mistake imputed to the evangelist, this word could have no signification whatever; it could have had no place in his narrative; because, let it relate to what it will, taxing, census, enrolment, or assessment, it imports that the writer had more than one of those in contemplation. It acquits him therefore of the charge: it is inconsistent with the supposition of his knowing only of the taxing in the beginning of Cyrenius's government. And if the evangelist knew (which this word proves that he did) of some other taxing beside that, it is too much, for the sake of convicting him of a mistake, to lay it down as certain that he intended to refer to that. The sentence in Saint Luke may be construed thus: "This was the first assessment (or enrolment) of Cyrenius, governor of Syria;"* the words "governor of Syria" being used after the name of Cyrenius as his addition or title. And this title, belonging to him at the time of writing the account, was naturally enough subjoined to his name, though acquired after the transaction which the account describes. A modern writer who was not very exact in the choice of his expressions, in relating the affairs of the East Indies, might easily say that such a thing was done by Governor Hastings; though, in truth, the thing had been done by him before his advancement to the station from which he received the name of governor. And this, as we contend, is precisely the inaccuracy which has produced the difficulty in Saint Luke. _________ * If the word which we render "first" be rendered "before," which it has been strongly contended that the Greek idiom shows of, the whole difficulty vanishes: for then the passage would be,--"Now this taxing was made before Cyreulus was governor of Syria;" which corresponds with the chronology. But I rather choose to argue, that however the word "first" be rendered, to give it a meaning at all, it militates with the objection. In this I think there can be no mistake. _________ At any rate it appears from the form of the expression that he had two taxings or enrolments in contemplation. And if Cyrenius had been sent upon this business into Judea before he became governor of Syria (against which supposition there is no proof, but rather external evidence of an enrolment going on about this time under some person or other +), then the census on all hands acknowledged to have been made by him in the beginning of his government would form a second, so as to occasion the other to be called the first. _________ + Josephus (Antiq. xvii. c. 2, sect. 6.) has this remarkable message: "When therefore the whole Jewish nation took an oath to be faithful to Caesar, and the interests of the king." This transaction corresponds in the course of the history with the time of Christ's birth. What is called a census, and which we render taxing, was delivering upon oath an account of their property. This might be accompanied with an oath of fidelity, or might be mistaken by Josephus for it. _________ II. Another chronological objection arises upon a date assigned in the beginning of the third chapter of Saint Luke. (Lardner, part i. vol. ii. p. 768.) "Now in the fifteenth year of the reign of Tiberius Caesar,--Jesus began to be about thirty years of age:" for, supposing Jesus to have been born as Saint Matthew and Saint Luke also himself relate, in the time of Herod, he must, according to the dates given in Josephus and by the Roman historians, have been at least thirty-one years of age in the fifteenth year of Tiberius. If he was born, as Saint Matthew's narrative intimates, one or two years before Herod's death, he would have been thirty-two or thirty-three years old at that time. This is the difficulty: the solution turns upon an alteration in the construction of the Greek. Saint Luke's words in the original are allowed, by the general opinion of learned men, to signify, not "that Jesus began to be about thirty years of age," but "that he was about thirty years of age when he began his ministry." This construction being admitted, the adverb "about" gives us all the latitude we want, and more especially when applied, as it is in the present instance, to a decimal number; for such numbers, even without this qualifying addition, are often used in a laxer sense than is here contended for.* _________ * Livy, speaking of the peace which the conduct of Romulus had procured to the state, during the whole reign of his successor (Numa), has these words: "Ab illo enim profectis viribus datis tautum valuit, ut, in quaaraginta deiade annos, tutam proem haberet:" yet afterwards in the same chapter, "Romulus," he says, "septera et triginta regnavit annos. Numa tres et quadraginta." (Liv. Hist. c. i. sect. 16.) _________ III. Acts v. 36. "For before these days rose up Theudas, boasting himself to be somebody; to whom a number of men, about four hundred, joined themselves: who were slain; and all, as many as obeyed him, were scattered and brought to nought." Josephus has preserved the account of an impostor of the name of Theudas, who created some disturbances, and was slain; but according to the date assigned to this man's appearance (in which, however, it is very possible that Josephus may have been mistaken), (Michaelis's Introduction to the New Testament [Marsh's translation], vol. i. p. 61.) it must have been, at the least, seven years after Gamaliel's speech, of which this text is a part, was delivered. It has been replied to the objection, (Lardner, part i. vol. ii. p. 92.) that there might be two impostors of this name: and it has been observed, in order to give a general probability to the solution, that the same thing appears to have happened in other instances of the same kind. It is proved from Josephus, that there were not fewer than four persons of the name of Simon within forty years, and not fewer than three of the name of Judas within ten years, who were all leaders of insurrections: and it is likewise recorded by this historian, that upon the death of Herod the Great (which agrees very well with the time of the commotion referred to by Gamaliel, and with his manner of stating that time, "before these days") there were innumerable disturbances in Judea. (Antiq. 1. 17, c. 12. sect. 4.) Archbishop Usher was of opinion, that one of the three Judases above mentioned was Gamaliel's Theudas; (Annals, p. 797.) and that with a less variation of the name than we actually find in the Gospel, where one of the twelve apostles is called, by Luke, Judas; and by Mark, Thaddeus. (Luke vi. 16. Mark iii. 18.) Origen, however he came at his information, appears to have believed that there was an impostor of the name of Theudas before the nativity of Christ. (Orig. cont Cels. p. 44.) IV. Matt. xxiii. 34. "Wherefore, behold I send unto you prophets, and wise men, and scribes, and some of them ye shall kill and crucify; and some of them shall ye scourge in your synagogues, and persecute them from city to city; that upon you may come all the righteous blood shed upon the earth, from the blood of righteous Abel unto the blood of Zacharias, son of Barachias, whom ye slew between the temple and the altar." There is a Zacharias whose death is related in the second book of Chronicles,* in a manner which perfectly supports our Saviour's allusion. But this Zacharias was the son of Jehoiada. _________ * "And the Spirit of God came upon Zacharias, the son of Jehoiada the priest, which stood above the people, and mid unto them, Thus saith God, Why transgress ye the commandments of the Lord that ye cannot prosper? Because ye hive forsaken the Lord, he hath also forsaken you. And they conspired against him, and stoned him with stones, at the commandment of the king, in the court of the house of the Lord." 2 Chron. xxiv. 20, 21. _________ There is also Zacharias the prophet; who was the son of Barachiah, and is so described in the superscription of his prophecy, but of whose death we have no account. I have little doubt but that the first Zacharias was the person spoken of by our Saviour; and that the name of the father has been since added or changed, by some one who took it from the title of the prophecy, which happened to be better known to him than the history in the Chronicles. There is likewise a Zacharias, the son of Baruch, related by Josephus to have been slain in the temple a few years before the destruction of Jerusalem. It has been insinuated that the words put into our Saviour's mouth contain a reference to this transaction, and were composed by some writer who either confounded the time of the transaction with our Saviour's age, or inadvertently overlooked the anachronism. Now, suppose it to have been so; suppose these words to have been suggested by the transaction related in Josephus, and to have been falsely ascribed to Christ; and observe what extraordinary coincidences (accidentally as it must in that case have been) attend the forger's mistake. First, that we have a Zacharias in the book of Chronicles, whose death, and the manner of it, corresponds with the allusion. Secondly, that although the name of this person's father be erroneously put down in the Gospel, yet we have a way of accounting for the error by showing another Zacharias in the Jewish Scriptures much better known than the former, whose patronymic was actually that which appears in the text. Every one who thinks upon the subject will find these to be circumstances which could not have met together in a mistake which did not proceed from the circumstances themselves. I have noticed, I think, all the difficulties of this kind. They are few: some of them admit of a clear, others of a probable solution. The reader will compare them with the number, the variety, the closeness, and the satisfactoriness, of the instances which are to be set against them; and he will remember the scantiness, in many cases, of our intelligence, and that difficulties always attend imperfect information. CHAPTER VII. UNDESIGNED COINCIDENCES. Between the letters which bear the name of Saint Paul in our collection and his history in the Acts of the Apostles there exist many notes of correspondency. The simple perusal of the writings is sufficient to prove that neither the history was taken from the letters, nor the letters from the history. And the undesignedness of the agreements (which undesignedness is gathered from their latency, their minuteness, their obliquity, the suitableness of the circumstances in which they consist to the places in which those circumstances occur, and the circuitous references by which they are traced out) demonstrates that they have not been produced by meditation, or by any fraudulent contrivance. But coincidences, from which these causes are excluded, and which are too close and numerous to be accounted for by accidental concurrences of fiction, must necessarily have truth for their foundation. This argument appeared to my mind of so much value (especially for its assuming nothing beside the existence of the books), that I have pursued it through Saint Paul's thirteen epistles, in a work published by me four years ago, under the title of Horae Paulinae. I am sensible how feebly any argument which depends upon an induction of particulars is represented without examples. On which account I wished to have abridged my own volume, in the manner in which I have treated Dr. Lardner's in the preceding chapter. But, upon making the attempt, I did not find it in my power to render the articles intelligible by fewer words than I have there used. I must be content, therefore, to refer the reader to the work itself. And I would particularly invite his attention to the observations which are made in it upon the first three epistles. I persuade myself that he will find the proofs, both of agreement, and undesignedness, supplied by these epistles, sufficient to support the conclusion which is there maintained, in favour both of the genuineness of the writings and the truth of the narrative. It remains only, in this place, to point out how the argument bears upon the general question of the Christian history. First, Saint Paul in these letters affirms, in unequivocal terms, his own performance of miracles, and, what ought particularly to be remembered, "That miracles were the signs of an Apostle." (Rom. xv. 18, 19. 2 Cor. xii. 12.) If this testimony come from Saint Paul's own hand, it is invaluable. And that it does so, the argument before us fixes in my mind a firm assurance. Secondly, it shows that the series of action represented in the epistles of Saint Paul was real; which alone lays a foundation for the proposition which forms the subject of the first part of our present work, viz. that the original witnesses of the Christian history devoted themselves to lives of toil, suffering, and danger, in consequence of their belief of the truth of that history, and for the sake of communicating the knowledge of it to others. Thirdly, it proves that Luke, or whoever was the author of the Acts of the Apostles (for the argument does not depend upon the name of the author, though I know no reason for questioning it), was well acquainted with Saint Paul's history; and that he probably was, what he professes himself to be, a companion of Saint Paul's travels; which, if true, establishes, in a considerable degree, the credit even of his Gospel, because it shows that the writer, from his time, situation, and connexions, possessed opportunities of informing himself truly concerning the transactions which he relates. I have little difficulty in applying to the Gospel of Saint Luke what is proved concerning the Acts of the Apostles, considering them as two parts of the same history; for though there are instances of second parts being forgeries, I know none where the second part is genuine, and the first not so. I will only observe, as a sequel of the argument, though not noticed in my work, the remarkable similitude between the style of Saint John's Gospel and of Saint John's Epistle. The style of Saint John's is not at all the style of Saint Paul's Epistles, though both are very singular; nor is it the style of Saint James's or of Saint Peter's Epistles: but it bears a resemblance to the style of the Gospel inscribed with Saint John's name, so far as that resemblance can be expected to appear, which is not in simple narrative, so much as in reflections, and in the representation of discourses. Writings so circumstanced prove themselves, and one another, to be genuine. This correspondency is the more valuable, as the epistle itself asserts, in Saint John's manner, indeed, but in terms sufficiently explicit, the writer's personal knowledge of Christ's history: "That which was from the beginning, which we have heard, which we have seen with our eyes, which we have looked upon, and our hands have handled, of the word of life; that which we have seen and heard, declare we unto you." (Ch. i. ver. 1--3.)Who would not desire, who perceives not the value of an account delivered by a writer so well informed as this? CHAPTER VIII. OF THE HISTORY OF THE RESURRECTION. The history of the resurrection of Christ is a part of the evidence of Christianity: but I do not know whether the proper strength of this passage of the Christian history, or wherein its peculiar value, as a head of evidence, consists, be generally understood. It is not that, as a miracle, the resurrection ought to be accounted a more decisive proof of supernatural agency than other miracles are; it is not that, as it stands in the Gospels, it is better attested than some others; it is not, for either of these reasons, that more weight belongs to it than to other miracles, but for the following, viz., That it is completely certain that the apostles of Christ, and the first teachers of Christianity, asserted the fact. And this would have been certain, if the four Gospels had been lost, or never written. Every piece of Scripture recognizes the resurrection. Every epistle of every apostle, every author contemporary with the apostles, of the age immediately succeeding the apostles, every writing from that age to the present genuine or spurious, on the side of Christianity or against it, concur in representing the resurrection of Christ as an article of his history, received without doubt or disagreement by all who called themselves Christians, as alleged from the beginning by the propagators of the institution, and alleged as the centre of their testimony. Nothing, I apprehend, which a man does not himself see or hear can be more certain to him than this point. I do not mean that nothing can be more certain than that Christ rose from the dead; but that nothing can be more certain than that his apostles, and the first teachers of Christianity, gave out that he did so. In the other parts of the Gospel narrative, a question may be made, whether the things related of Christ be the very things which the apostles and first teachers of the religion delivered concerning him? And this question depends a good deal upon the evidence we possess of the genuineness, or rather perhaps of the antiquity, credit, and reception of the books. On the subject of the resurrection, no such discussion is necessary, because no such doubt can be entertained. The only points which can enter into our consideration are, whether the apostles knowingly published a falsehood, or whether they were themselves deceived; whether either of these suppositions be possible. The first, I think, is pretty generally given up. The nature of the undertaking, and of the men; the extreme unlikelihood that such men should engage in such a measure as a scheme; their personal toils, and dangers and sufferings in the cause; their appropriation of their whole time to the object; the warm and seemingly unaffected zeal and earnestness with which they profess their sincerity exempt their memory from the suspicion of imposture. The solution more deserving of notice is that which would resolve the conduct of the apostles into enthusiasm; which would class the evidence of Christ's resurrection with the numerous stories that are extant of the apparitions of dead men. There are circumstances in the narrative, as it is preserved in our histories, which destroy this comparison entirely. It was not one person but many, who saw him; they saw him not only separately but together, not only by night but by day, not at a distance but near, not once but several times; they not only saw him, but touched him, conversed with him, ate with him, examined his person to satisfy their doubts. These particulars are decisive: but they stand, I do admit, upon the credit of our records. I would answer, therefore, the insinuation of enthusiasm, by a circumstance which arises out of the nature of the thing; and the reality of which must be confessed by all who allow, what I believe is not denied, that the resurrection of Christ, whether true or false, was asserted by his disciples from the beginning; and that circumstance is, the non-production of the dead body. It is related in the history, what indeed the story of the resurrection necessarily implies, that the corpse was missing out of the sepulchre: it is related also in the history, that the Jews reported that the followers of Christ had stolen it away.* And this account, though loaded with great improbabilities, such as the situation of the disciples, their fears for their own safety at the time, the unlikelihood of their expecting to succeed, the difficulty of actual success,+ and the inevitable consequence of detection and failure, was, nevertheless, the most credible account that could be given of the matter. But it proceeds entirely upon the supposition of fraud, as all the old objections did. What account can be given of the body, upon the supposition of enthusiasm? It is impossible our Lord's followers could believe that he was risen from the dead, if his corpse was lying before them. No enthusiasm ever reached to such a pitch of extravagancy as that: a spirit may be an illusion; a body is a real thing, an object of sense, in which there can be no mistake. All accounts of spectres leave the body in the grave. And although the body of Christ might be removed by fraud, and for the purposes of fraud, yet without any such intention, and by sincere but deluded men (which is the representation of the apostolic character we are now examining), no such attempt could be made. The presence and the absence of the dead body are alike inconsistent with the hypothesis of enthusiasm: for if present, it must have cured their enthusiasm at once; if absent, fraud, not enthusiasm, must have carried it away. _________ * "And this saying," Saint Matthew writes, "is commonly reported amongst the Jews until this day" (chap. xxviii. 15). The evangelist may be thought good authority as to this point, even by those who do not admit his evidence in every other point: and this point is sufficient to prove that the body was missing. It has been rightly, I think, observed by Dr. Townshend (Dis. upon the Res. p. 126), that the story of the guards carried collusion upon the face of it:--"His disciples came by night, and stole him away while we slept." Men in their circumstances would not have made such an acknowledgment of their negligence without previous assurances of protection and impunity. + "Especially at the full moon, the city full of people, many probably passing the whole night, as Jesus and his disciples had done, in the open air, the sepulchre so near the city as to be now enclosed within the walls." Priestley on the Resurr. p. 24. _________ But further, if we admit, upon the concurrent testimony of all the histories, so much of the account as states that the religion of Jesus was set up at Jerusalem, and set up with asserting, in the very place in which he had been buried, and a few days after he had been buried, his resurrection out of the grave, it is evident that, if his body could have been found, the Jews would have produced it, as the shortest and completest answer possible to the whole story. The attempt of the apostles could not have survived this refutation a moment. If we also admit, upon the authority of Saint Matthew, that the Jews were advertised of the expectation of Christ's followers, and that they had taken due precaution in consequence of this notice, and that the body was in marked and public custody, the observation receives more force still. For notwithstanding their precaution and although thus prepared and forewarned; when the story of the resurrection of Christ came forth, as it immediately did; when it was publicly asserted by his disciples, and made the ground and basis of their preaching in his name, and collecting followers to his religion, the Jews had not the body to produce; but were obliged to meet the testimony of the apostles by an answer not containing indeed any impossibility in itself, but absolutely inconsistent with the supposition of their integrity; that is, in other words, inconsistent with the supposition which would resolve their conduct into enthusiasm. CHAPTER IX. THE PROPAGATION OF CHRISTIANITY. In this argument, the first consideration is the fact--in what degree, within what time, and to what extent, Christianity actually was propagated. The accounts of the matter which can be collected from our books are as follow: A few days after Christ's disappearance out of the world, we find an assembly of disciples at Jerusalem, to the number of "about one hundred and twenty;" (Acts i. 15.) which hundred and twenty were probably a little association of believers, met together not merely as believers in Christ, but as personally connected with the apostles, and with one another. Whatever was the number of believers then in Jerusalem, we have no reason to be surprised that so small a company should assemble: for there is no proof that the followers of Christ were yet formed into a society; that the society was reduced into any order; that it was at this time even understood that a new religion (in the sense which that term conveys to us) was to be set up in the world, or how the professors of that religion were to be distinguished from the rest of mankind. The death of Christ had left, we may suppose, the generality of his disciples in great doubt, both as to what they were to do, and concerning what was to follow. This meeting was holden, as we have already said, a few days after Christ's ascension: for ten days after that event was the day of Pentecost, when, as our history relates, (Acts ii. 1.) upon a signal display of divine agency attending the persons of the apostles, there were added to the society "about three thousand souls." (Acts ii. 41.) But here, it is not, I think, to be taken, that these three thousand were all converted by this single miracle; but rather that many who before were believers in Christ became now professors of Christianity; that is to say, when they found that a religion was to be established, a society formed and set up in the name of Christ, governed by his laws, avowing their belief in his mission, united amongst themselves, and separated from the rest of the world by visible distinctions; in pursuance of their former conviction, and by virtue of what they had heard and seen, and known of Christ's history, they publicly became members of it. We read in the fourth chapter (verse 4) of the Acts, that soon after this, "the number of the men," i. e. the society openly professing their belief in Christ, "was about five thousand." So that here is an increase of two thousand within a very short time. And it is probable that there were many, both now and afterwards, who, although they believed in Christ, did not think it necessary to join themselves to this society; or who waited to see what was likely to become of it. Gamaliel, whose advice to the Jewish council is recorded Acts v. 34, appears to have been of this description; perhaps Nicodemus, and perhaps also Joseph of Arimathea. This class of men, their character and their rank, are likewise pointed out by Saint John, in the twelfth chapter of his Gospel: "Nevertheless, among the chief rulers also many believed on him, but because of the Pharisees they did not confess him, lest they should be put out of the synagogue, for they loved the praise of men more than the praise of God." Persons such as these might admit the miracles of Christ, without being immediately convinced that they were under obligation to make a public profession of Christianity at the risk of all that was dear to them in life, and even of life itself.* _________ * "Beside those who professed, and those who rejected and opposed, Christianity, there were in all probability multitudes between both, neither perfect Christians nor yet unbelievers. They had a favourable opinion of the Gospel, but worldly considerations made them unwilling to own it. There were many circumstances which inclined them to think that Christianity was a divine revelation, but there were many inconveniences which attended the open profession of it; and they could not find in themselves courage enough to bear them to disoblige their friends and family, to ruin their fortunes, to lose their reputation, their liberty, and their life, for the sake of the new religion. Therefore they were willing to hope, that if they endeavoured to observe the great principles of morality which Christ had represented as the principal part, the sum and substance of religion; if they thought honourably of the Gospel; if they offered no injury to the Christians; if they did them all the services that they could safely perform, they were willing to hope that God would accept this, and that He would excuse and forgive the rest." Jortin's Dis. on the Christ. Rel. p. 91, ed. 4. _________ Christianity, however, proceeded to increase in Jerusalem by a progress equally rapid with its first success; for in the next chapter of our history, we read that "believers were the more added to the Lord, multitudes both of men and women." And this enlargement of the new society appears in the first verse of the succeeding chapter, wherein we are told, that "when the number of the disciples was multiplied, there arose a murmuring of the Grecians against the Hebrews because their widows were neglected;" (Acts v. 14; vi. 1) and afterwards, in the same chapter, it is declared expressly, that "the number of the disciples multiplied in Jerusalem greatly, and that a great company of the priests were obedient to the faith." This I call the first period in the propagation of Christianity. It commences with the ascension of Christ, and extends, as may be collected from incidental notes of time, (Vide Pearson's Antiq. 1. xviii. c. 7. Benson's History of Christ, b. i. p. 148.) to something more than one year after that event. During which term, the preaching of Christianity, so far as our documents inform us, was confined to the single city of Jerusalem. And how did it succeed there? The first assembly which we meet with of Christ's disciples, and that a few days after his removal from the world, consisted of "one hundred and twenty." About a week after this, "three thousand were added in one day;" and the number of Christians publicly baptized, and publicly associating together, was very soon increased to "five thousand." "Multitudes both of men and women continued to be added;" "disciples multiplied greatly," and "many of the Jewish priesthood as well as others, became obedient to the faith;" and this within a space of less than two years from the commencement of the institution. By reason of a persecution raised against the church at Jerusalem, the converts were driven from that city, and dispersed throughout the regions of Judea and Samaria. (Acts viii. l.) Wherever they came, they brought their religion with them: for our historian informs us, (Acts viii. 4.) that "they that were scattered abroad went everywhere preaching the word." The effect of this preaching comes afterwards to be noticed, where the historian is led, in the course of his narrative, to observe that then (i. e. about three years posterior to this, [Benson, b. i. p. 207.]) the churches had rest throughout all Judea and Galilee and Samaria, and were edified, and walking in the fear of the Lord, and in the comfort of the Holy Ghost, were multiplied. This was the work of the second period, which comprises about four years. Hitherto the preaching of the Gospel had been confined to Jews, to Jewish proselytes, and to Samaritans. And I cannot forbear from setting down in this place an observation of Mr. Bryant, which appears to me to be perfectly well founded;--"The Jews still remain: but how seldom is it that we can make a single proselyte! There is reason to think, that there were more converted by the apostles in one day than have since been won over in the last thousand years." (Bryant on the Truth of the Christian Religion, p. 112.) It was not yet known to the apostles that they were at liberty to propose the religion to mankind at large. That "mystery," as Saint Paul calls it, (Eph. iii. 3--6.) and as it then was, was revealed to Peter by an especial miracle. It appears to have been (Benson, book ii. p. 236.) about seven years after Christ's ascension that the Gospel was preached to the Gentiles of Cesarea. A year after this a great multitude of Gentiles were converted at Antioch in Syria. The expressions employed by the historian are these:--"A great number believed, and turned to the Lord;" "much people was added unto the Lord;" "the apostles Barnabas and Paul taught much people." (Acts xi. 21, 24, 26.) Upon Herod's death, which happened in the next year, (Benson, book ii, p. 289.) it is observed, that "the word of God grew and multiplied." (Acts xii. 24.) Three years from this time, upon the preaching of Paul at Iconium, the metropolis of Lycaonia, "a great multitude both of Jews and Greeks believed:" (Acts xiv. 1.) and afterwards, in the course of this very progress, he is represented as "making many disciples" at Derbe, a principal city in the same district. Three years (Benson's History of Christ, book iii. p. 50.) after this, which brings us to sixteen after the ascension, the apostles wrote a public letter from Jerusalem to the Gentile converts in Antioch, Syria, and Cilicia, with which letter Paul travelled through these countries, and found the churches "established in the faith, and increasing in number daily." (Acts xvi. 5.) From Asia the apostle proceeded into Greece, where, soon after his arrival in Macedonia, we find him at Thessalonica: in which city, "some of the Jews believed, and of the devout Greeks a great multitude." (Acts xvii. 4.) We meet also here with an accidental hint of the general progress of the Christian mission, in the exclamation of the tumultuous Jews of Thessalonica, "that they who had turned the world upside down were come thither also." (Acts xvii. 6.) At Berea, the next city at which Saint Paul arrives, the historian, who was present, inform us that "many of the Jews believed." (Acts xvii. 12.) The next year and a half of Saint Paul's ministry was spent at Corinth. Of his success in that city we receive the following intimations; "that many of the Corinthians believed and were baptized;" and "that it was revealed to the Apostle by Christ, that be had much people in that city." (Acts xviii, 8--10.) Within less than a year after his departure from Corinth, and twenty-five (Benson, book iii. p, 160.) years after the ascension, Saint Paul fixed his station at Ephesus for the space of two years (Acts xix. 10.) and something more. The effect of his ministry in that city and neighbourhood drew from the historian a reflection how "mightily grew the word of God and prevailed." (Acts xix. 20.) And at the conclusion of this period we find Demetrius at the head of a party, who were alarmed by the progress of the religion, complaining, that "not only at Ephesus, but also throughout all Asia (i. e. the province of Lydia, and the country adjoining to Ephesus), this Paul hath persuaded and turned away much people." (Acts xix. 26.) Beside these accounts, there occurs, incidentally, mention of converts at Rome, Alexandria, Athens, Cyprus, Cyrene, Macedonia, Philippi. This is the third period in the propagation of Christianity, setting off in the seventh year after the ascension, and ending at the twenty-eighth. Now, lay these three periods together, and observe how the progress of the religion by these accounts is represented. The institution, which properly began only after its Author's removal from the world, before the end of thirty years, had spread itself through Judea, Galilee, and Samaria, almost all the numerous districts of the Lesser Asia, through Greece, and the islands of the Aegean Sea, the seacoast of Africa, and had extended itself to Rome, and into Italy. At Antioch, in Syria, at Joppa, Ephesus, Corinth, Thessalonica, Berea, Iconium, Derbe, Antioch in Pisidia, at Lydda, Saron, the number of converts is intimated by the expressions, "a great number," "great multitudes," "much people." Converts are mentioned, without any designation of their number,* at Tyre, Cesarea, Troas, Athens, Philippi, Lystra, Damascus. During all this time Jerusalem continued not only the centre of the mission, but a principal seat of the religion; for when Saint Paul returned thither at the conclusion of the period of which we are now considering the accounts, the other apostles pointed out to him, as a reason for his compliance with their advice, "how many thousands (myriads, ten thousands) there were in that city who believed."+ _________ * Considering the extreme conciseness of many parts of the history, the silence about the number of converts is no proof of their paucity; for at Philippi, no mention whatever is made of the number, yet Saint Paul addressed an epistle to that church. The churches of Galatia, and the affairs of those churches, were considerable enough to be the subject of another letter, and of much of Saint Paul's solicitude; yet no account is preserved in the history of his success, or even of his preaching in that country, except the slight notice which these words convey:--"When they had gone throughout Phrygia, and the region of Galatia, they assayed to go into Bithynia." Acts xvi. 6. + Acts xxi. 20. _________ Upon this abstract, and the writing from which it is drawn, the following observations seem material to be made: I. That the account comes from a person who was himself concerned in a portion of what he relates, and was contemporary with the whole of it; who visited Jerusalem, and frequented the society of those who had acted, and were acting the chief parts in the transaction. I lay down this point positively; for had the ancient attestations to this valuable record been less satisfactory than they are, the unaffectedness and simplicity with which the author notes his presence upon certain occasions, and the entire absence of art and design from these notices, would have been sufficient to persuade my mind that, whoever he was, he actually lived in the times, and occupied the situation, in which he represents himself to be. When I say, "whoever he was," I do not mean to cast a doubt upon the name to which antiquity hath ascribed the Acts of the Apostles (for there is no cause, that I am acquainted with, for questioning it), but to observe that, in such a case as this, the time and situation of the author are of more importance than his name; and that these appear from the work itself, and in the most unsuspicious form. II. That this account is a very incomplete account of the preaching and propagation of Christianity; I mean, that if what we read in the history be true, much more than what the history contains must be true also. For, although the narrative from which our information is derived has been entitled the Acts of the Apostles, it is, in fact, a history of the twelve apostles only during a short time of their continuing together at Jerusalem; and even of this period the account is very concise. The work afterwards consists of a few important passages of Peter's ministry, of the speech and death of Stephen, of the preaching of Philip the deacon; and the sequel of the volume, that is, two thirds of the whole, is taken up with the conversion, the travels, the discourses, and history of the new apostle, Paul; in which history, also, large portions of time are often passed over with very scanty notice. III. That the account, so far as it goes, is for this very reason more credible. Had it been the author's design to have displayed the early progress of Christianity, he would undoubtedly have collected, or at least have set forth, accounts of the preaching of the rest of the apostles, who cannot without extreme improbability be supposed to have remained silent and inactive, or not to have met with a share of that success which attended their colleagues. To which may be added, as an observation of the same kind, IV. That the intimations of the number of converts, and of the success of the preaching of the apostles, come out for the most part incidentally: are drawn from the historian by the occasion, such as the murmuring of the Grecian converts; the rest from persecution; Herod's death; the sending of Barnabas to Antioch, and Barnabas calling Paul to his assistance; Paul coming to a place and finding there disciples; the clamour of the Jews; the complaint of artificers interested in the support of the popular religion; the reason assigned to induce Paul to give satisfaction to the Christians of Jerusalem. Had it not been for these occasions it is probable that no notice whatever would have been taken of the number of converts in several of the passages in which that notice now appears. All this tends to remove the suspicion of a design to exaggerate or deceive. PARALLEL TESTIMONIES with the history are the letters of Saint Paul, and of the other apostles, which have come down to us. Those of Saint Paul are addressed to the churches of Corinth, Philippi, Thessalonica, the church of Galatia, and, if the inscription be right, of Ephesus; his ministry at all which places is recorded in the history: to the church of Colosse, or rather to the churches of Colosse and Laodicea jointly, which he had not then visited. They recognise by reference the churches of Judea, the churches of Asia, and "all the churches of the Gentiles." (Thess ii. 14.) In the Epistle to the Romans (Rom. xv. 18, 19.) the author is led to deliver a remarkable declaration concerning the extent of his preaching, its efficacy, and the cause to which he ascribes it,--"to make the Gentiles obedient by word and deed, through mighty signs and wonders, by the power of the Spirit of God; so that from Jerusalem, and round about unto Illyricum, I have fully preached the Gospel of Christ." In the epistle to the Colossians, (Col. i. 23.) we find an oblique but very strong signification of the then general state of the Christian mission, at least as it appeared to Saint Paul:--"If ye continue in the faith, grounded and settled, and be not moved away from the hope of the Gospel, which ye have heard, and which was preached to every creature which is under heaven;" which Gospel, he had reminded them near the beginning of his letter (Col. i. 6.), "was present with them, as it was in all the world." The expressions are hyperbolical; but they are hyperboles which could only be used by a writer who entertained a strong sense of the subject. The first epistle of Peter accosts the Christians dispersed throughout Pontus, Galatia, Cappadocia, Asia, and Bithynia. It comes next to be considered how far these accounts are confirmed or followed up by other evidence. Tacitus, in delivering a relation, which has already been laid before the reader, of the fire which happened at Rome in the tenth year of Nero (which coincides with the thirtieth year after Christ's ascension), asserts that the emperor, in order to suppress the rumours of having been himself the author of the mischief, procured the Christians to be accused. Of which Christians, thus brought into his narrative, the following is so much of the historian's account as belongs to our present purpose: "They had their denomination from Christus, who, in the reign of Tiberius, was put to death as a criminal by the procurator Pontius Pilate. This pernicious superstition, though checked for a while, broke out again, and spread not only over Judea, but reached the city also. At first they only were apprehended who confessed themselves of that sect; afterwards vast multitude were discovered by them." This testimony to the early propagation of Christianity is extremely material. It is from an historian of great reputation, living near the time; from a stranger and an enemy to the religion; and it joins immediately with the period through which the Scripture accounts extend. It establishes these points: that the religion began at Jerusalem; that it spread throughout Judea; that it had reached Rome, and not only so, but that it had there obtained a great number of converts. This was about six years after the time that Saint Paul wrote his Epistle to the Romans, and something more than two years after he arrived there himself. The converts to the religion were then so numerous at Rome, that of those who were betrayed by the information of the persons first persecuted, a great multitude (multitudo ingens) were discovered and seized. It seems probable, that the temporary check which Tacitus represents Christianity to have received (repressa in praesens) referred to the persecution of Jerusalem which followed the death of Stephen (Acts viii.); and which, by dispersing the converts, caused the institution, in some measure, to disappear. Its second eruption at the same place, and within a short time, has much in it of the character of truth. It was the firmness and perseverance of men who knew what they relied upon. Next in order of time, and perhaps superior in importance is the testimony of Pliny the Younger. Pliny was the Roman governor of Pontus and Bithynia, two considerable districts in the northern part of Asia Minor. The situation in which he found his province led him to apply to the emperor (Trajan) for his direction as to the conduct he was to hold towards the Christians. The letter in which this application is contained was written not quite eighty years after Christ's ascension. The president, in this letter, states the measures he had already pursued, and then adds, as his reason for resorting to the emperor's counsel and authority, the following words:--"Suspending all judicial proceedings, I have recourse to you for advice; for it has appeared to me a matter highly deserving consideration, especially on account of the great number of persons who are in danger of suffering: for many of all ages, and of every rank, of both sexes likewise, are accused, and will be accused. Nor has the contagion of this superstition seized cities only, but the lesser towns also, and the open country. Nevertheless it seemed to me that it may be restrained and corrected. It is certain that the temples, which were almost forsaken, begin to be more frequented; and the sacred solemnities, after a long intermission, are revived. Victims, likewise, are everywhere (passim) bought up; whereas, for some time, there were few to purchase them. Whence it is easy to imagine that numbers of men might be reclaimed if pardon were granted to those that shall repent." (C. Plin. Trajano Imp. lib. x. ep. xcvii.) It is obvious to observe, that the passage of Pliny's letter here quoted, proves, not only that the Christians in Pontus and Bithynia were now numerous, but that they had subsisted there for some considerable time. "It is certain," he says, "that the temples, which were almost forsaken (plainly ascribing this desertion of the popular worship to the prevalency of Christianity), begin to be more frequented; and the sacred solemnities, after a long intermission, are revived." There are also two clauses in the former part of the letter which indicate the same thing; one, in which he declares that he had "never been present at any trials of Christians, and therefore knew not what was the usual subject of inquiry and punishment, or how far either was wont to be urged." The second clause is the following: "Others were named by an informer, who, at first, confessed themselves Christians, and afterwards denied it; the rest said they had been Christians some three years ago, some longer, and some about twenty years." It is also apparent, that Pliny speaks of the Christians as a description of men well known to the person to whom he writes. His first sentence concerning them is, "I have never been present at the trials of Christians." This mention of the name of Christians, without any preparatory explanation, shows that it was a term familiar both to the writer of the letter and the person to whom it was addressed. Had it not been so, Pliny would naturally have begun his letter by informing the emperor that he had met with a certain set of men in the province called Christians. Here then is a very singular evidence of the progress of the Christian religion in a short space. It was not fourscore years after the crucifixion of Jesus when Pliny wrote this letter; nor seventy years since the apostles of Jesus began to mention his name to the Gentile world. Bithynia and Pontus were at a great distance from Judea, the centre from which the religion spread; yet in these provinces Christianity had long subsisted, and Christians were now in such numbers as to lead the Roman governor to report to the emperor that they were found not only in cities, but in villages and in open countries; of all ages, of every rank and condition; that they abounded so much as to have produced a visible desertion of the temples; that beasts brought to market for victims had few purchasers; that the sacred solemnities were much neglected:--circumstances noted by Pliny for the express purpose of showing to the emperor the effect and prevalency of the new institution. No evidence remains by which it can be proved that the Christians were more numerous in Pontus and Bithynia than in other parts of the Roman empire; nor has any reason been offered to show why they should be so. Christianity did not begin in these countries, nor near them. I do not know, therefore, that we ought to confine the description in Pliny's letter to the state of Christianity in these provinces, even if no other account of the same subject had come down to us; but, certainly, this letter may fairly be applied in aid and confirmation of the representations given of the general state of Christianity in the world, by Christian writers of that and the next succeeding age. Justin Martyr, who wrote about thirty years after Pliny, and one hundred and six after the ascension, has these remarkable words: "There is not a nation, either of Greek or barbarian, or of any other name, even of those who wander in tribes, and live in tents, amongst whom prayers and thanksgivings are not offered to the Father and Creator of the universe by the name of the crucified Jesus." (Dial cum Tryph.) Tertullian, who comes about fifty years after Justin, appeals to the governors of the Roman empire in these terms: "We were but of yesterday, and we have filled your cities, islands, towns, and boroughs, the camp, the senate, and the forum. They (the heathen adversaries of Christianity) lament that every sex, age, and condition, and persons of every rank also, are converts to that name." (Tertull. Apol. c. 37.) I do allow that these expressions are loose, and may be called declamatory. But even declamation hath its bounds; this public boasting upon a subject which must be known to every reader was not only useless but unnatural, unless the truth of the case, in a considerable degree, corresponded with the description; at least, unless it had been both true and notorious, that great multitudes of Christians, of all ranks and orders, were to be found in most parts of the Roman empire. The same Tertullian, in another passage, by way of setting forth the extensive diffusion of Christianity, enumerates as belonging to Christ, beside many other countries, the "Moors and Gaetulians of Africa, the borders of Spain, several nations of France, and parts of Britain inaccessible to the Romans, the Sarmatians, Daci, Germans, and Scythians;" (Ad Jud. c. 7.) and, which is more material than the extent of the institution, the number of Christians in the several countries in which it prevailed is thus expressed by him: "Although so great a multitude, that in almost every city we form the greater part, we pass our time modestly and in silence." (Ad Scap. c. iii.) A Clemens Alexandrinus, who preceded Tertullian by a few years, introduced a comparison between the success of Christianity and that of the most celebrated philosophical institutions: "The philosophers were confined to Greece, and to their particular retainers; but the doctrine of the Master of Christianity not remain in Judea, as philosophy did in Greece, but is throughout the whole world, in every nation, and village, and city, both of Greeks and barbarians, converting both whole houses and separate individuals, having already brought over to the truth not a few of the philosophers themselves. If the Greek philosophy he prohibited, it immediately vanishes; whereas, from the first preaching of our doctrine, kings and tyrants, governors and presidents, with their whole train, and with the populace on their side, have endeavoured with their whole might to exterminate it, yet doth it flourish more and more." (Clem. AI. Strora. lib. vi. ad fin.) Origen, who follows Tertullian at the distance of only thirty years, delivers nearly the same account: "In every part of the world," says he, "throughout all Greece, and in all other nations, there are innumerable and immense multitudes, who, having left the laws of their country, and those whom they esteemed gods, have given themselves up to the law of Moses, and the religion of Christ: and this not without the bitterest resentment from the idolaters, by whom they were frequently put to torture, and sometimes to death: and it is wonderful to observe how, in so short a time, the religion has increased, amidst punishment and death, and every kind of torture." (Orig. in Cels. lib. i.) In another passage, Origen draws the following candid comparison between the state of Christianity in his time and the condition of its more primitive ages: "By the good providence of God, the Christian religion has so flourished and increased continually that it is now preached freely without molestation, although there were a thousand obstacles to the spreading of the doctrine of Jesus in the world. But as it was the will of God that the Gentiles should have the benefit of it, all the counsels of men against the Christians were defeated: and by how much the more emperors and governors of provinces, and the people everywhere strove to depress them, so much the more have they increased and prevailed exceedingly." (Orig. cont. Cels. lib vii.) It is well known that, within less than eighty years after this, the Roman empire became Christian under Constantine: and it is probable that Constantine declared himself on the side of the Christians because they were the powerful party: for Arnobius, who wrote immediately before Constantine's accession, speaks of "the whole world as filled with Christ's doctrine, of its diffusion throughout all countries, of an innumerable body of Christians in distant provinces, of the strange revolution of opinion of men of the greatest genius,--orators, grammarians, rhetoricians, lawyers, physicians having come over to the institution, and that also in the face of threats, executions and tortures." (Arnob. in Genres, 1. i. pp. 27, 9, 24, 42, 41. edit. Lug. Bat. 1650.) And not more than twenty years after Constantine's entire possession of the empire, Julius Firmiens Maternus calls upon the emperors Constantius and Constans to extirpate the relics of the ancient religion; the reduced and fallen condition of which is described by our author in the following words: "Licet adhue in quibusdam regionibus idololatriae morientia palpitont membra; tamen in eo res est, ut a Christianis omnibus terris pestiferum hoc malum funditus amputetur:" and in another place, "Modicum tautum superest, ut legibus vestris--extincta idololatriae pereat funesta contagio." (De Error. Profan. Relig. c. xxi. p. 172, quoted by Lardner, vol. viii. p. 262.) It will not be thought that we quote this writer in order to recommend his temper or his judgment, but to show the comparative state of Christianity and of Heathenism at this period. Fifty years afterwards, Jerome represents the decline of Paganism, in language which conveys the same idea of its approaching extinction: "Solitudinem patitur et in urbe gentilitas. Dii quondam nationum, cum bubonibus et noctuis, in solis culminibus remanserunt." (Jer. ad Lect. ep. 5, 7.) Jerome here indulges a triumph, natural and allowable in a zealous friend of the cause, but which could only be suggested to his mind by the consent and universality with which he saw; the religion received. "But now," says he, "the passion and resurrection of Christ are celebrated in the discourses and writings of all nations. I need not mention Jews, Greeks, and Latins. The Indians, Persians, Goths, and Egyptians philosophise, and firmly believe the immortality of the soul, and future recompenses, which, before, the greatest philosophers had denied, or doubted of, or perplexed with their disputes. The fierceness of Thracians and Scythians is now softened by the gentle sound of the Gospel; and everywhere Christ is all in all." (Jer. ad Lect. ep. 8, ad Heliod.) Were, therefore, the motives of Constantine's conversion ever so problematical, the easy establishment of Christianity, and the ruin of Heathenism, under him and his immediate successors, is of itself a proof of the progress which had made in the preceding period. It may be added also, "that Maxentius, the rival of Constantine, had shown himself friendly to the Christians. Therefore of those who were contending for worldly power and empire, one actually favoured and flattered them, and another may be suspected to have joined himself to them partly from consideration of interest: so considerable were they become, under external disadvantages of all sorts." (Lardner, vol. vii. p. 380.) This at least is certain, that, throughout the whole transaction hitherto, the great seemed to follow, not to lead, the public opinion. It may help to convey to us some notion of the extent and progress of Christianity, or rather of the character and quality of many early Christians, of their learning and their labours, to notice the number of Christian writers who flourished in these ages. Saint Jerome's catalogue contains sixty-six writers within the first three centuries, and the first six years of the fourth; and fifty-four between that time and his own, viz. A. D. 392. Jerome introduces his catalogue with the following just remonstrance:--"Let those who say the church has had no philosophers, nor eloquent and learned men, observe who and what they were who founded, established, and adorned it; let them cease to accuse our faith of rusticity, and confess their mistake." (Jer. Prol. in Lib. de Ser. Eccl.) Of these writers, several, as Justin, Irenaeus, Clement of Alexandria, Tertullian, Origen, Bardesanes, Hippolitus, Eusebius, were voluminous writers. Christian writers abounded particularly about the year 178. Alexander, bishop of Jerusalem, founded a library in that city, A.D. 212. Pamphilus, the friend of Origen, founded a library at Cesarea, A.D. 294. Public defences were also set forth, by various advocates of the religion, in the course of its first three centuries. Within one hundred years after Christ's ascension, Quadratus and Aristides, whose works, except some few fragments of the first, are lost; and, about twenty years afterwards, Justin Martyr, whose works remain, presented apologies for the Christian religion to the Roman emperors; Quadratus and Aristides to Adrian, Justin to Antoninus Pins, and a second to Marcus Antoninus. Melito, bishop of Sardis, and Apollinaris, bishop of Hierapolis, and Miltiades, men of great reputation, did the same to Marcus Antoninus, twenty years afterwards; (Euseb. Hist. lib. iv. c. 26. See also Lardner, vol. ii. p. 666.) and ten years after this, Apollonius, who suffered martyrdom under the emperor Commodus, composed an apology for his faith which he read in the senate, and which was afterwards published. (Lardner, vol. ii. p. 687.) Fourteen years after the apology of Apollonius, Tertullian addressed the work which now remains under that name to the governors of provinces in the Roman empire; and, about the same time, Minucius Felix composed a defence of the Christian religion, which is still extant; and, shortly after the conclusion of this century, copious defences of Christianity were published by Arnobius and Lactantius. SECTION II. REFLECTIONS UPON THE PRECEDING ACCOUNT. In viewing the progress of Christianity, our first attention is due to the number of converts at Jerusalem, immediately after its Founder's death; because this success was a success at the time, and upon the spot, when and where the chief part of the history had been transacted. We are, in the next place, called upon to attend to the early establishment of numerous Christian societies in Judea and Galilee; which countries had been the scene of Christ's miracles and ministry, and where the memory of what had passed, and the knowledge of what was alleged, must have yet been fresh and certain. We are, thirdly, invited to recollect the success of the apostles and of their companions, at the several places to which they came, both within and without Judea; because it was the credit given to original witnesses, appealing for the truth of their accounts to what themselves had seen and heard. The effect also of their preaching strongly confirms the truth of what our history positively and circumstantially relates, that they were able to exhibit to their hearers supernatural attestations of their mission. We are, lastly, to consider the subsequent growth and spread of the religion, of which we receive successive intimations, and satisfactory, though general and occasional, accounts, until its full and final establishment. In all these several stages, the history is without a parallel for it must be observed, that we have not now been tracing the progress, and describing the prevalency, of an opinion founded upon philosophical or critical arguments, upon mere of reason, or the construction of ancient writing; (of which are the several theories which have, at different times, possession of the public mind in various departments of science and literature; and of one or other of which kind are the tenets also which divide the various sects of Christianity;) but that we speak of a system, the very basis and postulatum of which was a supernatural character ascribed to a particular person; of a doctrine, the truth whereof depends entirely upon the truth of a matter of fact then recent. "To establish a new religion, even amongst a few people, or in one single nation, is a thing in itself exceedingly difficult. To reform some corruptions which may have spread in a religion, or to make new regulations in it, is not perhaps so hard, when the main and principal part of that religion is preserved entire and unshaken; and yet this very often cannot be accomplished without an extraordinary concurrence of circumstances, and may be attempted a thousand times without success. But to introduce a new faith, a new way of thinking and acting, and to persuade many nations to quit the religion in which their ancestors have lived and died, which had been delivered down to them from time immemorial; to make them forsake and despise the deities which they had been accustomed to reverence and worship; this is a work of still greater difficulty." (Jortin's Dis. on the Christ. Rel. p. 107, 4th edit.) The resistance of education, worldly policy, and superstition, is almost invincible. If men, in these days, be Christians in consequence of their education, in submission to authority, or in compliance with fashion, let us recollect that the very contrary of this, at the beginning, was the case. The first race of Christians, as wall as millions who succeeded them, became such in formal opposition to all these motives, to the whole power and strength of this influence. Every argument, therefore, and every instance, which sets forth the prejudice of education, and the almost irresistible effects of that prejudice (and no persons are more fond of expatiating upon this subject than deistical writers), in fact confirms the evidence of Christianity. But, in order to judge of the argument which is drawn from the early propagation of Christianity, I know no fairer way of proceeding than to compare what we have seen on the subject with the success of Christian missions in modern ages. In the East India mission, supported by the Society for Promoting Christian Knowledge, we hear sometimes of thirty, sometimes of forty, being baptized in the course of a year, and these principally children. Of converts properly so called, that is, of adults voluntarily embracing Christianity, the number is extremely small. "Notwithstanding the labour of missionaries for upwards of two hundred years, and the establishments of different Christian nations who support them, there are not twelve thousand Indian Christians, and those almost entirely outcasts." (Sketches relating to the history, learning, and manners of the Hindoos, p. 48; quoted by Dr. Robertson, Hist. Dis. concerning Ancient India, p. 236.) I lament as much as any man the little progress which Christianity has made in these countries, and the inconsiderable effect that has followed the labours of its missionaries; but I see in it a strong proof of the Divine origin of the religion. What had the apostles to assist them in propagating Christianity which the missionaries have not? If piety and zeal had been sufficient, I doubt not but that our missionaries possess these qualities in a high degree: for nothing except piety and zeal could engage them in the undertaking. If sanctity of life and manners was the allurement, the conduct of these men is unblameable. If the advantage of education and learning be looked to, there is not one of the modern missionaries who is not, in this respect, superior to all the apostles; and that not only absolutely, but, what is of more importance, relatively, in comparison, that is, with those amongst whom they exercise their office. If the intrinsic excellency of the religion, the perfection of its morality, the purity of its precepts, the eloquence, or tenderness, or sublimity, of various parts of its writings, were the recommendations by which it made its way, these remain the same. If the character and circumstances under which the preachers were introduced to the countries in which they taught be accounted of importance, this advantage is all on the side of the modern missionaries. They come from a country and a people to which the Indian world look up with sentiments of deference. The apostles came forth amongst the Gentiles under no other name than that of Jews, which was precisely the character they despised and derided. If it be disgraceful in India to become a Christian, it could not be much less so to be enrolled amongst those "quos, per flagitia invisos, vulgus Christianos appellabat." If the religion which they had to encounter be considered, the difference, I apprehend, will not be great. The theology of both was nearly the same: "what is supposed to be performed by the power of Jupiter, Neptune, of Aeolus, of Mars, of Venus, according to the mythology of the West, is ascribed, in the East, to the agency Agrio the god of fire, Varoon the god of oceans, Vayoo god of wind, Cama the god of love." (Baghvat Gets, p. 94, quoted by Dr. Robertson, Ind. Dis. p. 306.) The sacred rites of the Western Polytheism were gay, festive, and licentious; the rites of the public religion in the East partake of the same character, with a more avowed indecency. "In every function performed in the pagodas, as well as in every public procession, it is the office of these women (i. e. of women prepared by the Brahmins for the purpose) to dance before the idol, and to sing hymns in his praise; and it is difficult to say whether they trespass most against decency by the gestures they exhibit, or by the verses which they recite. The walls of the pagodas were covered with paintings in a style no less indelicate." (Others of the deities of the East are of an austere and gloomy character, to be propitiated by victims, sometimes by human sacrifices, and by voluntary torments of the most excruciating kind. Voyage de Gentil. vol. i. p. 244--260. Preface to the Code of Gentoo Laws, p. 57; quoted by Dr. Robertson, p. 320.) On both sides of the comparison, the popular religion had a strong establishment. In ancient Greece and Rome it was strictly incorporated with the state. The magistrate was the priest. The highest officers of government bore the most distinguished part in the celebration of the public rites. In India, a powerful and numerous caste possesses exclusively the administration of the established worship; and are, of consequence, devoted to its service, and attached to its interest. In both, the prevailing mythology was destitute of any proper evidence: or rather, in both, the origin of the tradition is run up into ages long anterior to the existence of credible history, or of written language. The Indian chronology computes eras by millions of years, and the life of man by thousands "The Suffec Jogue, or age of purity, is said to have lasted three million two hundred thousand years; and they hold that the life of man was extended in that age to one hundred thousand years; but there is a difference amongst the Indian writers of six millions of years in the computation of this era." (Voyage de Gentil. vol. i. p. 244--260. Preface to the Code of Gentoo Laws, p. 57; quoted by Dr. Robertson, p. 320.) and in these, or prior to these, is placed the history of their divinities. In both, the established superstition held the same place in the public opinion; that is to say, in both it was credited by the bulk of the people, but by the learned and philosophical part of the community either derided, or regarded by them as only fit to be upholden for the sake of its political uses.* _________ * "How absurd soever the articles of faith may be which superstition has adopted, or how unhallowed the rites which it prescribes, the former are received, in every age and country with unhesitating assent, by the great body of the people, and the latter observed with scrupulous exactness. In our reasonings concerning opinions and practices which differ widely from our own, we are extremely apt to err. Having been instructed ourselves in the principles of a religion worthy in every respect of that Divine wisdom by which they were dictated, we frequently express wonder at the credulity of nations, in embracing systems of belief which appear to us so directly repugnant to right reason; and sometimes suspect that tenets so wild and extravagant do not really gain credit with them. But experience may satisfy us, that neither our wonder nor suspicions are well founded. No article of the public religion was called in question by those people of ancient Europe with whose history we are best acquainted; and no practice which it enjoined appeared improper to them. On the other hand, every opinion that tended to diminish the reverence of men for the gods of their country, or to alienate them from their worship, excited, among the Greeks and Romans, that indignant zeal which is natural to every people attached to their religion by a firm persuasion of its truth." Ind. Dis. p. 321. That the learned Brahmins of the East are rational Theists, and secretly reject the established theory, and contemn the rites that were founded upon them, or rather consider them as contrivances to be supported for their political uses, see Dr. Robertson's Ind. Dis. p. 324-334. _________ Or if it should be allowed, that the ancient heathens believed in their religion less generally than the present Indians do, I am far from thinking that this circumstance would afford any facility to the work of the apostles, above that of the modern missionaries. To me it appears, and I think it material to be remarked, that a disbelief of the established religion of their country has no tendency to dispose men for the reception of another; but that, on the contrary, it generates a settled contempt of all religious pretensions whatever. General infidelity is the hardest soil which the propagators of a new religion can have to work upon. Could a Methodist or Moravian promise himself a better chance of success with a French esprit fort, who had been accustomed to laugh at the popery of his country, than with a believing Mahometan or Hindoo? Or are our modern unbelievers in Christianity, for that reason, in danger of becoming Mahometans or Hindoos? It does not appear that the Jews, who had a body of historical evidence to offer for their religion, and who at that time undoubtedly entertained and held forth the expectation of a future state, derived any great advantage, as to the extension of their system, from the discredit into which the popular religion had fallen with many of their heathen neighbours. We have particularly directed our observations to the state and progress of Christianity amongst the inhabitants of India: but the history of the Christian mission in other countries, where the efficacy of the mission is left solely to the conviction wrought by the preaching of strangers, presents the same idea as the Indian mission does of the feebleness and inadequacy of human means. About twenty-five years ago was published, in England, a translation from the Dutch of a History of Greenland and a relation of the mission for above thirty years carried on in that country by the Unitas Fratrum, or Moravians. Every part of that relation confirms the opinion we have stated. Nothing could surpass, or hardly equal, the zeal and patience of the missionaries. Yet their historian, in the conclusion of his narrative, could find place for no reflections more encouraging than the following:--"A person that had known the heathen, that had seen the little benefit from the great pains hitherto taken with them, and considered that one after another had abandoned all hopes of the conversion of these infidels (and some thought they would never be converted, till they saw miracles wrought as in the apostles' days, and this the Greenlanders expected and demanded of their instructors); one that considered this, I say, would not so much wonder at the past unfruitfulness of these young beginners, as at their steadfast perseverance in the midst of nothing but distress, difficulties, and impediments, internally and externally: and that they never desponded of the conversion of those poor creatures amidst all seeming impossibilities." (History of Greenland, vol. ii. p. 376.) From the widely disproportionate effects which attend the preaching of modern missionaries of Christianity, compared with what followed the ministry of Christ and his apostles under circumstances either alike, or not so unlike as to account for the difference, a conclusion is fairly drawn in support of what our histories deliver concerning them, viz. that they possessed means of conviction which we have not; that they had proofs to appeal to which we want. SECTION III. OF THE RELIGION OF MAHOMET. The only event in the history of the human species which admits of comparison with the propagation of Christianity is the success of Mahometanism. The Mahometan institution was rapid in its progress, was recent in its history, and was founded upon a supernatural or prophetic character assumed by its author. In these articles, the resemblance with Christianity is confessed. But there are points of difference which separate, we apprehend, the two cases entirely. I. Mahomet did not found his pretensions upon miracles, properly so called; that is, upon proofs of supernatural agency capable of being known and attested by others. Christians are warranted in this. assertion by the evidence of the Koran, in which Mahomet not only does not affect the power of working miracles, but expressly disclaims it. The following passages of that book furnish direct proofs of the truth of what we allege:--"The infidels say, Unless a sign be sent down unto him from his lord, we will not believe; thou art a preacher only." (Sale's Koran, c. xiii. p. 201, ed. quarto.) Again; "Nothing hindered us from sending thee with miracles, except that the former nations have charged them with imposture." (C. xvii. p. 232.) And lastly; "They say, Unless a sign be sent down unto him from his lord, we will not believe: Answer; Signs are in the power of God alone, and I am no more than a public preacher. Is it not sufficient for them, that we have sent down unto them the book of the Koran to be read unto them?" (C. xxix. p. 328.) Beside these acknowledgments, I have observed thirteen distinct places in which Mahomet puts the objection (unless a sign, &c.) into the mouth of the unbeliever, in not one of which does he allege a miracle in reply. His answer is, "that God giveth the power of working miracles when and to whom he pleaseth;" (C. v. x. xiii. twice.) "that if he should work miracles, they would not believe;" (C. vi.) "that they had before rejected Moses, and Jesus and the Prophets, who wrought miracles;" (C. iii. xxi. xxviii.) "that the Koran itself was a miracle." (C. xvi.) The only place in the Koran in which it can be pretended that a sensible miracle is referred to (for I do not allow the secret visitations of Gabriel, the night-journey of Mahomet to heaven, or the presence in battle of invisible hosts of angels, to deserve the name of sensible miracles) is the beginning of the fifty-fourth chapter. The words are these:--"The hour of judgment approacheth, and the moon hath been split in sunder: but if the unbelievers see a sign, they turn aside, saying, This is a powerful charm." The Mahometan expositors disagree in their interpretation of this passage; some explaining it to be mention of the splitting of the moon as one of the future signs of the approach of the day of judgment: others referring it to a miraculous appearance which had then taken place. (Vide Sale, in loc.) It seems to me not improbable, that Mahomet might have taken advantage of some extraordinary halo, or other unusual appearance of the moon, which had happened about this time; and which supplied a foundation both for this passage, and for the story which in after times had been raised out of it. After this more than silence, after these authentic confessions of the Koran, we are not to be moved with miraculous stories related of Mahomet by Abulfeda, who wrote his life about six hundred years after his death; or which are found in the legend of Al-Jannabi, who came two hundred years later.* On the contrary, from comparing what Mahomet himself wrote and said with what was afterwards reported of him by his followers, the plain and fair conclusion is, that when the religion was established by conquest, then, and not till then, came out the stories of his miracles. _________ * It does not, I think, appear, that these historians had any written accounts to appeal to more ancient than the Sonnah; which was a collection of traditions made by order of the Caliphs two hundred years after Mahomet's death. Mahomet died A.D. 632; Al-Bochari, one of the six doctors who compiled the Sonnah, was born A.D. 809; died 869. Prideaux's Life of Mahomet, p. 192, ed. 7th. _________ Now this difference alone constitutes, in my opinion, a bar to all reasoning from one case to the other. The success of a religion founded upon a miraculous history shows the credit which was given to the history; and this credit, under the circumstances in which it was given, i. e. by persons capable of knowing the truth, and interested to inquire after it, is evidence of the reality of the history, and, by consequence, of the truth of the religion. Where a miraculous history is not alleged, no part of this argument can be applied. We admit that multitudes acknowledged the pretensions of Mahomet: but, these pretensions being destitute of miraculous evidence, we know that the grounds upon which they were acknowledged could not be secure grounds of persuasion to his followers, nor their example any authority to us. Admit the whole of Mahomet's authentic history, so far as it was of a nature capable of being known or witnessed by others, to be true (which is certainly to admit all that the reception of the religion can be brought to prove), and Mahomet might still be an impostor, or enthusiast, or a union of both. Admit to be true almost any part of Christ's history, of that, I mean, which was public, and within the cognizance of his followers, and he must have come from God. Where matter of fact is not in question, where miracles are not alleged, I do not see that the progress of a religion is a better argument of its truth than the prevalency of any system of opinions in natural religion, morality, or physics, is a proof of the truth of those opinions. And we know that this sort of argument is inadmissible in any branch of philosophy what ever. But it will be said, if one religion could make its way without miracles, why might not another? To which I reply, first, that this is not the question; the proper question is not, whether a religious institution could be set up without miracles, but whether a religion, or a change of religion, founding itself in miracles, could succeed without any reality to rest upon? I apprehend these two cases to be very different: and I apprehend Mahomet's not taking this course, to be one proof, amongst others, that the thing is difficult, if not impossible, to be accomplished: certainly it was not from an unconsciousness of the value and importance of miraculous evidence; for it is very observable, that in the same volume, and sometimes in the same chapters, in which Mahomet so repeatedly disclaims the power of working miracles himself, he is incessantly referring to the miracles of preceding prophets. One would imagine, to hear some men talk, or to read some books, that the setting up of a religion by dint of miraculous pretences was a thing of every day's experience: whereas, I believe that, except the Jewish and Christian religion, there is no tolerably well authenticated account of any such thing having been accomplished. II. The establishment of Mahomet's religion was affected by causes which in no degree appertained to the origin of Christianity. During the first twelve years of his mission, Mahomet had recourse only to persuasion. This is allowed. And there is sufficient reason from the effect to believe that, if he had confined himself to this mode of propagating his religion, we of the present day should never have heard either of him or it. "Three years were silently employed in the conversion of fourteen proselytes. For ten years, the religion advanced with a slow and painful progress, within the walls of Mecca. The number of proselytes in the seventh year of his mission may be estimated by the absence of eighty-three men and eighteen women, who retired to Aethiopia." (Gibbon's Hist. vol. ix. p. 244, et seq. ed. Dub.) Yet this progress, such as it was, appears to have been aided by some very important advantages which Mahomet found in his situation, in his mode of conducting his design, and in his doctrine. 1. Mahomet was the grandson of the most powerful and honourable family in Mecca; and although the early death of his father had not left him a patrimony suitable to his birth, he had, long before the commencement of his mission, repaired this deficiency by an opulent marriage. A person considerable by his wealth, of high descent, and nearly allied to the chiefs of his country, taking upon himself the character of a religious teacher, would not fail of attracting attention and followers. 2. Mahomet conducted his design, in the outset especially, with great art and prudence. He conducted it as a politician would conduct a plot. His first application was to his own family. This gained him his wife's uncle, a considerable person in Mecca, together with his cousin Ali, afterwards the celebrated Caliph, then a youth of great expectation, and even already distinguished by his attachment, impetuosity, and courage.* He next expressed himself to Abu Beer, a man amongst the first of the Koreish in wealth and influence. The interest and example of Abu Beer drew in five other principal persons in Mecca, whose solicitations prevailed upon five more of the same rank. This was the work of three years; during which time everything was transacted in secret. Upon the strength of these allies, and under the powerful protection of his family, who, however some of them might disapprove his enterprise, or deride his pretensions, would not suffer the orphan of their house, the relict of their favourite brother, to be insulted, Mahomet now commenced his public preaching. And the advance which he made during the nine or ten remaining years of his peaceable ministry was by no means greater than what, with these advantages, and with the additional and singular circumstance of there being no established religion at Mecca at that time to contend with, might reasonably have been expected. How soon his primitive adherents were let into the secret of his views of empire, or in what stage of his undertaking these views first opened themselves to his own mind, it is not now easy to determine. The event however was, that these, his first proselytes, all ultimately attained to riches and honours, to the command of armies, and the government of kingdoms. (Gibbon, vol. ix. p 244.) _________ * Of which Mr. Gibbon has preserved the following specimen: "When Mahomet called out in an assembly of his family, Who among you will be my companion, and my vizir? Ali, then only in the fourteenth year of his age, suddenly replied, O prophet I am the man;--whosoever rises against thee, I will dash out his teeth, tear out his eyes, break his legs, rip up his belly. O prophet! I will be thy vizir over them." Vol. ix. p. 215. _________ 3. The Arabs deduced their descent from Abraham through the line of Ishmael. The inhabitants of Mecca, in common probably with the other Arabian tribes, acknowledged, as I think may clearly be collected from the Koran, one supreme Deity, but had associated with him many objects of idolatrous worship. The great doctrine with which Mahomet set out was the strict and exclusive unity of God. Abraham, he told them, their illustrous ancestor; Ishmael, the father of their nation; Moses, the lawgiver of the Jews; and Jesus, the author of Christianity--had all asserted the same thing; that their followers had universally corrupted the truth, and that he was now commissioned to restore it to the world. Was it to be wondered at, that a doctrine so specious, and authorized by names, some or other of which were holden in the highest veneration by every description of his hearers, should, in the hands of a popular missionary, prevail to the extent in which Mahomet succeeded by his pacific ministry? 4. Of the institution which Mahomet joined with this fundamental doctrine, and of the Koran in which that institution is delivered, we discover, I think, two purposes that pervade the whole, viz., to make converts, and to make his converts soldiers. The following particulars, amongst others, may be considered as pretty evident indications of these designs: 1. When Mahomet began to preach, his address to the Jews, to the Christians, and to the Pagan Arabs, was, that the religion which he taught was no other than what had been originally their own.--"We believe in God, and that which hath been sent down unto us, and that which hath been sent down unto Abraham, and Ishmael, and Isaac, and Jacob, and the Tribes, and that which was delivered unto Moses and Jesus, and that which was delivered unto the prophets from their Lord: we make no distinction between any of them." (Sale's Koran, c. ii. p. 17.) "He hath ordained you the religion which he commanded Noah, and which we have revealed unto thee, O Mohammed, and which we commanded Abraham, and Moses, and Jesus, saying, Observe this religion, and be not divided therein." (Sale's Koran, c. xlii. p. 393.) "He hath chosen you, and hath not imposed on you any difficulty in the religion which he hath given you, the religion of your father Abraham." (Sale's Koran, c. xxii. p. 281.) 2. The author of the Koran never ceases from describing the future anguish of unbelievers, their despair, regret, penitence, and torment. It is the point which he labours above all others. And these descriptions are conceived in terms which will appear in no small degree impressive, even to the modern reader of an English translation. Doubtless they would operate with much greater force upon the minds of those to whom they were immediately directed. The terror which they seem well calculated to inspire would be to many tempers a powerful application. 3. On the other hand: his voluptuous paradise; his robes of silk, his palaces of marble, his riven, and shades, his groves and couches, his wines, his dainties; and, above all, his seventy-two virgins assigned to each of the faithful, of resplendent beauty and eternal youth--intoxicated the imaginations, and seized the passions of his Eastern followers. 4. But Mahomet's highest heaven was reserved for those who fought his battles or expended their fortunes in his cause: "Those believers who sit still at home, not having any hurt, and those who employ their fortunes and their persons for the religion of God, shall not be held equal. God hath preferred those who employ their fortunes and their persons in that cause to a degree above those who sit at home. God had indeed promised every one Paradise; but God had preferred those who fight for the faith before those who sit still, by adding unto them a great reward; by degrees of honour conferred upon them from him, and by granting them forgiveness and mercy." (Sale's Koran, c. iv. p. 73.) Again; "Do ye reckon the giving drink to the pilgrims, and the visiting of the holy temple, to be actions as meritorious as those performed by him who believeth in God and the last day, and fighteth for the religion of God? They shall not be held equal with God.--They who have believed and fled their country, and employed their substance and their persons in the defence of God's true religion, shall be in the highest degree of honour with God; and these are they who shall be happy. The Lord sendeth them good tidings of mercy from him, and good will, and of gardens wherein they shall enjoy lasting pleasures. They shall continue therein for ever; for with God is a great reward." (Sale's Koran, c. ix. p. 151.) And, once more; "Verily God hath purchased of the true believers their souls and their substance, promising them the enjoyment of Paradise on condition that they fight for the cause of God: whether they slay or be slain, the promise for the same is assuredly due by the Law and the Gospel and the Koran." (Sale's Koran, c. ix. p. 164.)* _________ * "The sword," saith Mahomet, "is the key of heaven and of hell; a drop of blood shed in the cause of God, a night spent in arms, is of more avail than two months' fasting or prayer. Whosoever falls in battle, his sins are forgiven at the day of judgment; his wounds shall be resplendent as vermilion, and odoriferous as musk; and the loss of his limbs shall be supplied by the wings of angels and cherubim." Gibbon, vol. ix. p. 256. _________ 5. His doctrine of predestination was applicable, and was applied by him, to the same purpose of fortifying and of exalting the courage of his adherents.--"If anything of the matter had happened unto us, we had not been slain here. Answer; If ye had been in your houses, verily they would have gone forth to fight, whose slaughter was decreed, to the places where they died." (Sale's Koran, c. iii. p. 54.) 6. In warm regions, the appetite of the sexes is ardent, the passion for inebriating liquors moderate. In compliance with this distinction, although Mahomet laid a restraint upon the drinking of wine, in the use of women he allowed an almost unbounded indulgence. Four wives, with the liberty of changing them at pleasure, (Sale's Koran, c. iv. p. 63.) together with the persons of all his captives, (Gibbon, vol. ix. p. 225.) was an irresistible bribe to an Arabian warrior. "God is minded," says he, speaking of this very subject, "to make his religion light unto you; for man was created weak." How different this from the unaccommodating purity of the Gospel! How would Mahomet have succeeded with the Christian lesson in his mouth.--"Whosoever looketh upon a woman to lust after her, hath committed adultery with her already in his heart"? It must be added, that Mahomet did not venture upon the prohibition of wine till the fourth year of the Hegira, or the seventeenth of his mission, when his military successes had completely established his authority. The same observation holds of the fast of the Ramadan, (Mod. Univ. Hist. Vol. i. pp. 126 & 112.) and of the most laborious part of his institution, the pilgrimage to Mecca. (This latter, however, already prevailed amongst the Arabs, and had grown out of their excessive veneration for the Caaba. Mahomot's law, in this respect, was rather a compliance than an innovation. Sale's Prelim. Disc. p. 122.) What has hitherto been collected from the records of the Musselman history relates to the twelve or thirteen years of Mahomet's peaceable preaching, which part alone of his life and enterprise admits of the smallest comparison with the origin of Christianity. A new scene is now unfolded. The city of Medina, distant about ten days' journey from Mecca, was at that time distracted by the hereditary contentions of two hostile tribes. These feuds were exasperated by the mutual persecutions of the Jews and Christians, and of the different Christian sects by which the city was inhabited. (Mod. Univ. Hist. Vol. i. p. 100.) The religion of Mahomet presented, in some measure, a point of union or compromise to these divided opinions. It embraced the principles which were common to them all. Each party saw in it an honourable acknowledgment of the fundamental truth of their own system. To the Pagan Arab, somewhat imbued with the sentiments and knowledge of his Jewish or Christian fellow-citizen, it offered no defensive or very improbable theology. This recommendation procured to Mahometanism a more favourable reception at Medina than its author had been able, by twelve years' painful endeavours, to obtain for it at Mecca. Yet, after all, the progress of the religion was inconsiderable. His missionary could only collect a congregation of forty persons. It was not a religious, but a political association, which ultimately introduced Mahomet into Medina. Harassed, as it should seem, and disgusted by the long continuance of factions and disputes, the inhabitants of that city saw in the admission of the prophet's authority a rest from the miseries which they had suffered, and a suppression of the violence and fury which they had learned to condemn. After an embassy, therefore, composed of believers and unbelievers, (Mod. Univ. Hist. Vol. i. p. 85.) and of persons of both tribes, with whom a treaty was concluded of strict alliance and support, Mahomet made his public entry, and was received as the sovereign of Medina. From this time, or soon after this time, the impostor changed his language and his conduct. Having now a town at his command, where to arm his party, and to head them with security, he enters upon new counsels. He now pretends that a divine commission is given him to attack the infidels, to destroy idolatry, and to set up the true faith by the sword. (Mod. Univ. Hist. Vol. i. p. 88.) An early victory over a very superior force, achieved by conduct and bravery, established the renown of his arms, and of his personal character. (Victory of Bedr, Mod. Univ. Hist. Vol. i. p. 106.) Every year after this was marked by battles or assassinations. The nature and activity of Mahomet's future exertions may be estimated from the computation, that in the nine following years of his life he commanded his army in person in eight general engagements, (Mod. Univ. Hist. vol. i. p. 255.) and undertook, by himself or his lieutenants, fifty military enterprises. From this time we have nothing left to account for, but that Mahomet should collect an army, that his army should conquer, and that his religion should proceed together with his conquests. The ordinary experience of human affairs leaves us little to wonder at in any of these effects: and they were likewise each assisted by peculiar facilities. From all sides, the roving Arabs crowded round the standard of religion and plunder, of freedom and victory, of arms and rapine. Beside the highly painted joys of a carnal paradise, Mahomet rewarded his followers in this world with a liberal division of the spoils, and with the persons of their female captives. (Gibbon, vol. ix. p. 255.) The condition of Arabia, occupied by small independent tribes, exposed it to the impression, and yielded to the progress of a firm and resolute army. After the reduction of his native peninsula, the weakness also of the Roman provinces on the north and the west, as well as the distracted state of the Persian empire on the east, facilitated the successful invasion of neighbouring countries. That Mahomet's conquests should carry his religion along with them will excite little surprise, when we know the conditions which he proposed to the vanquished. Death or conversion was the only choice offered to idolaters. "Strike off their heads! strike off all the ends of their fingers!(Sale's Koran, c. viii. p. 140.) kill the idolaters, wheresoever ye shall find them!" (Sale's Koran, c. ix. p. 149.) To the Jews and Christians was left the somewhat milder alternative of subjection and tribute, if they persisted in their own religion, or of an equal participation in the rights and liberties, the honours and privileges, of the faithful, if they embraced the religion of their conquerors. "Ye Christian dogs, you know your option; the Koran, the tribute, or the sword." (Gibbon, vol. ix. p. 337.) The corrupted state of Christianity in the seventh century, and the contentions of its sects, unhappily so fell in with men's care of their safety or their fortunes, as to induce many to forsake its profession. Add to all which, that Mahomet's victories not only operated by the natural effect of conquest, but that they were constantly represented, both to his friends and enemies, as divine declarations in his favour. Success was evidence. Prosperity carried with it, not only influence, but proof. "Ye have already," says he, after the battle of Bedr, "had a miracle shown you, in two armies which attacked each other; one army fought for God's true religion, but the other were infidels." (Sale's Koran, c. iii. p. 36.) Again; "Ye slew not those who were slain at Bedr, but God slew them.--If ye desire a decision of the matter between us, now hath a decision come unto you." (Sale's Koran, c. viii. p. 141.) Many more passages might be collected out of the Koran to the same effect; but they are unnecessary. The success of Mahometanism during this, and indeed every future period of its history, bears so little resemblance to the early propagation of Christianity, that no inference whatever can justly be drawn from it to the prejudice of the Christian argument. For what are we comparing? A Galilean peasant accompanied by a few fishermen with a conqueror at the head of his army. We compare Jesus, without force, without power, without support, without One external circumstance of attraction or influence, prevailing against the prejudices, the learning, the hierarchy, of his country; against the ancient religious opinions, the pompous religious rites, the philosophy, the wisdom, the authority, of the Roman empire, in the most polished and enlightened period of its existence,--with Mahomet making his way amongst Arabs; collecting followers in the midst of conquests and triumphs, in the darkest ages and countries of the world, and when success in arms not only operated by that command of men's wills and persons which attend prosperous undertakings, but was considered as a sure testimony of Divine approbation. That multitudes, persuaded by this argument, should join the train of a victorious chief; that still greater multitudes should, without any argument, bow down before irresistible power--is a conduct in which we cannot see much to surprise us; in which we can see nothing that resembles the causes by which the establishment of Christianity was effected. The success, therefore, of Mahometanism stands not in the way of this important conclusion; that the propagation of Christianity, in the manner and under the circumstances in which it was propagated, is an unique in the history of the species. A Jewish peasant overthrew the religion of the world. I have, nevertheless, placed the prevalency of the religion amongst the auxiliary arguments of its truth; because, whether it had prevailed or not, or whether its prevalency can or cannot be accounted for, the direct argument remains still. It is still true that a great number of men upon the spot, personally connected with the history and with the Author of the religion, were induced by what they heard and saw, and knew, not only to change their former opinions, but to give up their time, and sacrifice their ease, to traverse seas and kingdoms without rest and without weariness, to commit themselves to extreme dangers, to undertake incessant toils, to undergo grievous sufferings, and all this solely in consequence, and in support, of their belief of facts, which, if true, establish the truth of the religion, which, if false, they must have known to be so. PART III. A BRIEF CONSIDERATION OF SOME POPULAR OBJECTIONS. CHAPTER I. THE DISCREPANCIES BETWEEN THE SEVERAL GOSPELS. I know not a more rash or unphilosophical conduct of the understanding, than to reject the substance of a story by reason of some diversity in the circumstances with which it is related. The usual character of human testimony is substantial truth under circumstantial variety. This is what the daily experience of courts of justice teaches. When accounts of a transaction come from the mouths of different witnesses, it is seldom that it is not possible to pick out apparent or real inconsistencies between them. These inconsistencies are studiously displayed by an adverse pleader, but oftentimes with little impression upon the minds of the judges. On the contrary, a close and minute agreement induces the suspicion of confederacy and fraud. When written histories touch upon the same scenes of action; the comparison almost always affords ground for a like reflection. Numerous, and sometimes important, variations present themselves; not seldom, also, absolute and final contradictions; yet neither one nor the other are deemed sufficient to shake the credibility of the main fact. The embassy of the Jews to deprecate the execution of Claudian's order to place his statute, in their temple, Philo places in harvest, Josephus in seed time; both contemporary writers. No reader is led by this inconsistency to doubt whether such an embassy was sent, or whether such an order was given. Our own history supplies examples of the same kind. In the account of the Marquis of Argyle's death, in the reign of Charles the Second, we have a very remarkable contradiction. Lord Clarendon relates that he was condemned to be hanged, which was performed the same day; on the contrary, Burnet, Woodrew, Heath, Echard, concur in stating that he was beheaded; and that he was condemned upon the Saturday, and executed upon the Monday. (See Biog. Britann.) Was any reader of English history ever sceptic enough to raise from hence a question whether the Marquis of Argyle was executed or not? Yet this ought to be left in uncertainty, according to the principles upon which the Christian history has sometimes been attacked. Dr. Middleton contended, that the different hours of the day assigned to the crucifixion of Christ, by John and by the other Evangelists, did not admit of the reconcilement which learned men had proposed: and then concludes the discussion with this hard remark; "We must be forced, with several of the critics, to leave the difficulty just as we found it, chargeable with all the consequences of manifest inconsistency." (Middleton's Reflections answered by Benson, Hist. Christ. vol. iii. p. 50.) But what are these consequences? By no means the discrediting of the history as to the principal fact, by a repugnancy (even supposing that repugnancy not to be resolvable into different modes of computation) in the time of the day in which it is said to have taken place. A great deal of the discrepancy observable in the Gospels arises from omission; from a fact or a passage of Christ's life being noticed by one writer which is unnoticed by another. Now, omission is at all times a very uncertain ground of objection. We perceive it, not only in the comparison of different writers, but even in the same writer when compared with himself. There are a great many particulars, and some of them of importance, mentioned by Josephus in his Antiquities, which, as we should have supposed, ought to have been put down by him in their place in the Jewish Wars. (Lardner, part i. vol. ii. p. 735, et seq.) Suetonius, Tacitus, Dio Cassius, have, all three, written of the reign of Tiberius. Each has mentioned many things omitted by the rest, (Lardner, part i. vol. ii. p. 743.) yet no objection is from thence taken to the respective credit of their histories. We have in our own times, if there were not something indecorous in the comparison, the life of an eminent person written by three of his friends, in which there is very great variety in the incidents selected by them; some apparent, and perhaps some real contradictions; yet without any impeachment of the substantial truth of their accounts, of the authenticity of the books, of the competent information or general fidelity of the writers. But these discrepancies will be still more numerous, when men do not write histories, but memoirs: which is, perhaps, the true name and proper description of our Gospels: that is, when they do not undertake, nor ever meant to deliver, in order of time, a regular and complete account of all the things of importance which the person who is the subject of their history did or said; but only, out of many similar ones, to give such passages, or such actions and discourses, as offered themselves more immediately to their attention, came in the way of their inquiries, occurred to their recollection, or were suggested by their particular design at the time of writing. This particular design may appear sometimes, but not always, nor often. Thus I think that the particular design which Saint Matthew had in view whilst he was writing the history of the resurrection was to attest the faithful performance of Christ's promise to his disciples to go before them into Galilee; because he alone, except Mark, who seems to have taken it from him, has recorded this promise, and he alone has confined his narrative to that single appearance to the disciples which fulfilled it. It was the preconcerted, the great and most public manifestation of our Lord's person. It was the thing which dwelt upon Saint Matthew's mind, and he adapted his narrative to it. But, that there is nothing in Saint Matthew's language which negatives other appearances, or which imports that this his appearance to his disciples in Galilee, in pursuance of his promise, was his first or only appearance, is made pretty evident by Saint Mark's Gospel, which uses the same terms concerning the appearance in Galilee as Saint Matthew uses, yet itself records two other appearances prior to this: "Go your way, tell his disciples and Peter, that he goeth before you into Galilee: there shall ye see him as he said unto you" (xvi. 7). We might be apt to infer from these words, that this was the first time they were to see him; at least, we might infer it, with as much reason as we draw the inference from the same words in Matthew: the historian himself did not perceive that he was leading his readers to any such conclusion; for, in the twelfth and following verses of this chapter, he informs us of two appearances, which, by comparing the order of events, are shown to have been prior to the appearance in Galilee. "He appeared in another form unto two of them, as they walked, and went into the country; and they went and told it unto the residue, neither believed they them: afterwards he appeared unto the eleven, as they sat at meat, and upbraided them with their unbelief, because they believed not them that had seen him after he was risen." Probably the same observation, concerning the particular design which guided the historian, may be of use in comparing many other passages of the Gospels. CHAPTER II. ERRONEOUS OPINIONS IMPUTED TO THE APOSTLES. A species of candour which is shown towards every other book is sometimes refused to the Scriptures: and that is, the placing of a distinction between judgment and testimony. We do not usually question the credit of a writer, by reason of an opinion he may have delivered upon subjects unconnected with his evidence: and even upon subjects connected with his account, or mixed with it in the same discourse or writing, we naturally separate facts from opinions, testimony from observation, narrative from argument. To apply this equitable consideration to the Christian records, much controversy and much objection has been raised concerning the quotations of the Old Testament found in the New; some of which quotations, it is said, are applied in a sense and to events apparently different from that which they bear, and from those to which they belong in the original. It is probable, to my apprehension, that many of those quotations were intended by the writers of the New Testament as nothing more than accommodations. They quoted passages of their Scripture which suited, and fell in with, the occasion before them, without always undertaking to assert that the occasion was in the view of the author of the words. Such accommodations of passages from old authors, from books especially which are in every one's hands, are common with writers of all countries; but in none, perhaps, were more to be expected than in the writings of the Jews, whose literature was almost entirely confined to their Scriptures. Those prophecies which are alleged with more solemnity, and which are accompanied with a precise declaration that they originally respected the event then related, are, I think, truly alleged. But were it otherwise; is the judgment of the writers of the New Testament, in interpreting passages of the Old, or sometimes, perhaps, in receiving established interpretations, so connected either with their veracity, or with their means of information concerning what was passing in their own times, as that a critical mistake, even were it clearly made out, should overthrow their historical credit?--Does it diminish it? Has it anything to do with it? Another error imputed to the first Christians was the expected approach of the day of judgment. I would introduce this objection by a remark upon what appears to me a somewhat similar example. Our Saviour, speaking to Peter of John, said, "If I will that he tarry till I come, what is that to thee?"' (John xxi. 22.) These words we find had been so misconstrued, as that a report from thence "went abroad among the brethren, that that disciple should not die." Suppose that this had come down to us amongst the prevailing opinions of the early Christians, and that the particular circumstance from which the mistake sprang had been lost (which, humanly speaking, was most likely to have been the case), some, at this day, would have been ready to regard and quote the error as an impeachment of the whole Christian system. Yet with how little justice such a conclusion would have been drawn, or rather such a presumption taken up, the information which we happen to possess enables us now to perceive. To those who think that the Scriptures lead us to believe that the early Christians, and even the apostles, expected the approach of the day of judgment in their own times, the same reflection will occur as that which we have made with respect to the more partial, perhaps, and temporary, but still no less ancient, error concerning the duration of Saint John's life. It was an error, it may be likewise said, which would effectually hinder those who entertained it from acting the part of impostors. The difficulty which attends the subject of the present chapter is contained in this question; If we once admit the fallibility of the apostolic judgment, where are we to stop, or in what can we rely upon it? To which question, as arguing with unbelievers, and as arguing for the substantial truth of the Christian history, and for that alone, it is competent to the advocate of Christianity to reply, Give me the apostles' testimony, and I do not stand in need of their judgment; give me the facts, and I have complete security for every conclusion I want. But, although I think that it is competent to the Christian apologist to return this answer, I do not think that it is the only answer which the objection is capable of receiving. The two following cautions, founded, I apprehend, in the most reasonable distinctions, will exclude all uncertainty upon this head which can be attended with danger. First, to separate what was the object of the apostolic mission, and declared by them to be so, from what was extraneous to it, or only incidentally connected with it. Of points clearly extraneous to the religion nothing need be said. Of points incidentally connected with it something may be added. Demoniacal possession is one of these points: concerning the reality of which, as this place will not admit the examination, nor even the production of the argument on either side of the question, it would be arrogance in me to deliver any judgment. And it is unnecessary. For what I am concerned to observe is, that even they who think it was a general, but erroneous opinion of those times; and that the writers of the New Testament, in common with other Jewish writers of that age, fell into the manner of speaking and of thinking upon the subject which then universally prevailed, need not be alarmed by the concession, as though they had anything to fear from it for the truth of Christianity. The doctrine was not what Christ brought into the world. It appears in the Christian records, incidentally and accidentally, as being the subsisting opinion of the age and country in which his ministry was exercised. It was no part of the object of his revelation, to regulate men's opinions concerning the action of spiritual substances upon animal bodies. At any rate it is unconnected with testimony. If a dumb person was by a word restored to the use of his speech, it signifies little to what cause the dumbness was ascribed; and the like of every other cure wrought upon these who are said to have been possessed. The malady was real, the cure was real, whether the popular explication of the cause was well founded or not. The matter of fact, the change, so far as it was an object of sense, or of testimony, was in either case the same. Secondly, that, in reading the apostolic writings, we distinguish between their doctrines and their arguments. Their doctrines came to them by revelation properly so called; yet in propounding these doctrines in their writings or discourses they were wont to illustrate, support, and enforce them by such analogies, arguments, and considerations as their own thoughts suggested. Thus the call of the gentiles, that is, the admission of the Gentiles to the Christian profession without a previous subjection to the law of Moses, was imported to the apostles by revelation, and was attested by the miracles which attended the Christian ministry among them. The apostles' own assurance of the matter rested upon this foundation. Nevertheless, Saint Paul, when treating of the subject, often a great variety of topics in its proof and vindication. The doctrine itself must be received: but it is not necessary, in order to defend Christianity, to defend the propriety of every comparison, or the validity of every argument, which the apostle has brought into the discussion. The same observation applies to some other instances, and is, in my opinion, very well founded; "When divine writers argue upon any point, we are always bound to believe the conclusions that their reasonings end in, as parts of divine revelation: but we are not bound to be able to make out, or even to assent to all the premises made use of by them, in their whole extent, unless it appear plainly, that they affirm the premises as expressly as they do the conclusions proved by them." (Burnets Expos. art. 6.) CHAPTER III. THE CONNEXION OF CHRISTIANITY WITH THE JEWISH HISTORY. Undoubtedly our Saviour assumes the divine origin of the Mosaic institution: and, independently of his authority, I conceive it to be very difficult to assign any other cause for the commencement or existence of that institution; especially for the singular circumstance of the Jews adhering to the unity when every other people slid into polytheism; for their being men in religion, children in everything else; behind other nations in the arts of peace and war, superior to the most improved in their sentiments and doctrines relating to the Deity.* _________ * "In the doctrine, for example, of the unity, the eternity, the omnipotence, the omniscience, the omnipresence, the wisdom, and the goodness of God; in their opinions concerning providence, and the creation, preservation, and government of the world." Campbell on Mir. p. 207. To which we may add, in the acts of their religion not being accompanied either with cruelties or impurities: in the religion itself being free from a species of superstition which prevailed universally in the popular religions of the ancient world, and which is to be found perhaps in all religions that have their origin in human artifice and credulity, viz. fanciful connexions between certain appearances and actions, and the destiny of nations or individuals. Upon these conceits rested the whole train of auguries and auspices, which formed so much even of the serious part of the religions of Greece and Rome, and of the charms and incantations which were practised in those countries by the common people. From everything of this sort the religion of the Jews, and of the Jews alone, was free. Vide. Priestley's Lectures on the Truth of the Jewish and Christian Revelation; 1794. _________ Undoubtedly, also, our Saviour recognises the prophetic character of many of their ancient writers. So far, therefore, we are bound as Christians to go. But to make Christianity answerable, with its life, for the circumstantial truth of each separate passage of the Old Testament, the genuineness of every book, the information, fidelity, and judgment of every writer in it, is to bring, I will not say great, but unnecessary difficulties into the whole system. These books were universally read and received by the Jews of our Saviour's time. He and his apostles, in common with all other Jews, referred to them, alluded to them, used them. Yet, except where he expressly ascribes a divine authority to particular predictions, I do not know that we can strictly draw any conclusion from the books being so used and applied, beside the proof, which it unquestionably is, of their notoriety and reception at that time. In this view, our Scriptures afford a valuable testimony to those of the Jews. But the nature of this testimony ought to be understood. It is surely very different from what it is sometimes represented to be, a specific ratification of each particular fact and opinion; and not only of each particular fact, but of the motives assigned for every action, together with the judgment of praise or dispraise bestowed upon them. Saint James, in his Epistle, says, "Ye have heard of the patience of Job, and have seen the end of the Lord." Notwithstanding this text, the reality of Job's history, and even the existence of such a person, have been always deemed a fair subject of inquiry and discussion amongst Christian divines. Saint James's authority is considered as good evidence of the existence of the book of Job at that time, and of its reception by the Jews; and of nothing more. Saint Paul, in his Second Epistle to Timothy, has this similitude: "Now, as Jannes and Jambres withstood Moses, so do these also resist the truth." These names are not found in the Old Testament. And it is uncertain whether Saint Paul took them from some apocryphal writing then extant, or from tradition. But no one ever imagined that Saint Paul is here asserting the authority of the writing, if it was a written account which he quoted, or making himself answerable for the authenticity of the tradition; much less that he so involves himself with either of these questions as that the credit of his own history and mission should depend upon the fact whether Jannes and Jambres withstood Moses or not. For what reason a more rigorous interpretation should be put upon other references it is difficult to know. I do not mean, that other passages of the Jewish history stand upon no better evidence than the history of Job, or of Jannes and Jambres (I think much otherwise); but I mean, that a reference in the New Testament to a passage in the Old does not so fix its authority as to exclude all inquiry into its credibility, or into the separate reasons upon which that credibility is founded; and that it is an unwarrantable as well as unsafe rule to lay down concerning the Jewish history, what was never laid down concerning any other, that either every particular of it must be true, or the whole false. I have thought it necessary to state this point explicitly, because a fashion, revived by Voltaire, and pursued by the disciples of his school, seems to have much prevailed of late, of attacking Christianity through the sides of Judaism. Some objections of this class are founded in misconstruction, some in exaggeration; but all proceed upon a supposition, which has not been made out by argument, viz. that the attestation which the Author and first teachers of Christianity gave to the divine mission of Moses and the prophets extends to every point and portion of the Jewish history; and so extends as to make Christianity responsible, in its own credibility, for the circumstantial truth (I had almost said for the critical exactness) of every narrative contained in the Old Testament. CHAPTER IV. REJECTION OF CHRISTIANITY. We acknowledge that the Christian religion, although it converted great numbers, did not produce an universal, or even a general conviction in the minds of men of the age and countries in which it appeared. And this want of a more complete and extensive success is called the rejection of the Christian history and miracles; and has been thought by some to form a strong objection to the reality of the facts which the history contains. The matter of the objection divides itself into two parts; as it relates to the Jews, and as it relates to Heathen nations: because the minds of these two descriptions of men may have been, with respect to Christianity, under the influence of very different causes. The case of the Jews, inasmuch as our Saviour's ministry was originally addressed to them, offers itself first to our consideration. Now upon the subject of the truth of the Christian religion; with us there is but one question, viz., whether the miracles were actually wrought? From acknowledging the miracles, we pass instantaneously to the acknowledgment of the whole. No doubt lies between the premises and the conclusion. If we believe the works of any one of them, we believe in Jesus. And this order of reasoning has become so universal and familiar that we do not readily apprehend how it could ever have been otherwise. Yet it appears to me perfectly certain, that the state of thought in the mind of a Jew of our Saviour's age was totally different from this. After allowing the reality of the miracle, he had a great deal to do to persuade himself that Jesus was the Messiah. This is clearly intimated by various passages of the Gospel history. It appears that, in the apprehension of the writers of the New Testament, the miracles did not irresistibly carry even those who saw them to the conclusion intended to be drawn from them; or so compel assent, as to leave no room for suspense, for the exercise of candour, or the effects of prejudice. And to this point, at least, the evangelists may he allowed to be good witnesses; because it is a point in which exaggeration or disguise would have been the other way. Their accounts, if they could he suspected of falsehood, would rather have magnified than diminished the effects of the miracles. John vii. 21--31. "Jesus answered and said unto them, I have done one work, and ye all marvel.--If a man on the Sabbath-day receive circumcision, that the law of Moses should not be broken; are ye angry at me, because I have made a man every whit whole on the Sabbath-day? Judge not according to the appearance, but judge righteous judgment. Then said some of them of Jerusalem, Is not this he whom they seek to kill? But lo, he speaketh boldly, and they say nothing to him: do the rulers know indeed that this is the very Christ? Howbeit we know this man, whence he is: but when Christ cometh, no man knoweth whence he is. Then cried Jesus in the temple as he taught, saying, Ye both know me, and ye know whence I am: and I am not come of myself, but He that sent me is true, whom ye know not. But I know Him, for I am from Him, and He hath sent me. Then they sought to take him: but no man laid hands on him, because his hour was not yet come. And many of the people believed on him and said, When Christ cometh, will he do more miracles than those which this man hath done?" This passage is very observable. It exhibits the reasoning of different sorts of persons upon the occasion of a miracle which persons of all sorts are represented to have acknowledged as real. One sort of men thought that there was something very extraordinary in all this; but that still Jesus could not be the Christ, because there was a circumstance in his appearance which militated with an opinion concerning Christ in which they had been brought up, and of the truth of which, it is probable, they had never entertained a particle of doubt, viz. That "when Christ cometh, no man knoweth whence he is." Another sort were inclined to believe him to be the Messiah. But even these did not argue as we should; did not consider the miracle as of itself decisive of the question; as what, if once allowed, excluded all further debate upon the subject; but founded their opinion upon a kind of comparative reasoning, "When Christ cometh, will he do more miracles than those which this man hath done?" Another passage in the same evangelist, and observable for the same purpose, is that in which he relates the resurrection of Lazarus; "Jesus," he tells us (xi. 43, 44), "when he had thus spoken, cried with a loud voice, Lazarus, come forth: and he that was dead came forth, bound hand and foot with graveclothes, and his face was bound about with a napkin. Jesus saith unto them, Loose him, and let him go." One might have suspected, that at least all those who stood by the sepulchre, when Lazarus was raised, would have believed in Jesus. Yet the evangelist does not so represent it:--"Then many of the Jews which came to Mary, and had seen the things which Jesus did, believed on him; but some of them went their ways to the Pharisees, and told them what things Jesus had done." We cannot suppose that the evangelist meant by this account to leave his readers to imagine, that any of the spectators doubted about the truth of the miracle. Far from it. Unquestionably, he states the miracle to have been fully allowed; yet the persons who allowed it were, according to his representation, capable of retaining hostile sentiments towards Jesus. "Believing in Jesus" was not only to believe that he wrought miracles, but that he was the Messiah. With us there is no difference between these two things; with them there was the greatest; and the difference is apparent in this transaction. If Saint John has represented the conduct of the Jews upon this occasion truly (and why he should not I cannot tell, for it rather makes against him than for him), it shows clearly the principles upon which their judgment proceeded. Whether he has related the matter truly or not, the relation itself discovers the writer's own opinion of those principles: and that alone possesses considerable authority. In the next chapter, we have a reflection of the evangelist entirely suited to this state of the case: "But though he had done so many miracles before them, yet believed they not on him." (Chap. xii. 37.) The evangelist does not mean to impute the defect of their belief to any doubt about the miracles, but to their not perceiving, what all now sufficiently perceive, and what they would have perceived had not their understandings been governed by strong prejudices, the infallible attestation which the works of Jesus bore to the truth of his pretensions. The ninth chapter of Saint John's Gospel contains a very circumstantial account of the cure of a blind man; a miracle submitted to all the scrutiny and examination which a sceptic could propose. If a modern unbeliever had drawn up the interrogatories, they could hardly have been more critical or searching. The account contains also a very curious conference between the Jewish rulers and the patient, in which the point for our present notice is, their resistance of the force of the miracle, and of the conclusion to which it led, after they had failed in discrediting its evidence. "We know that God spake unto Moses, but as for this fellow, we know not whence he is." That was the answer which set their minds at rest. And by the help of much prejudice, and great unwillingness to yield, it might do so. In the mind of the poor man restored to sight, which was under no such bias, and felt no such reluctance, the miracle had its natural operation. "Herein," says he, "is a marvellous thing, that ye know not from whence he is, yet he hath opened mine eyes. Now we know that God heareth not sinners: but if any man be a worshipper of God, and doeth his will, him he heareth. Since the world began, was it not heard, that any man opened the eyes of one that was born blind. If this man were not of God, he could do nothing." We do not find that the Jewish rulers had any other reply to make to this defence, than that which authority is sometimes apt to make to argument, "Dost thou teach us?" If it shall be inquired how a turn of thought, so different from what prevails at present, should obtain currency with the ancient Jews; the answer is found in two opinions which are proved to have subsisted in that age and country. The one was their expectation of a Messiah of a kind totally contrary to what the appearance of Jesus bespoke him to be; the other, their persuasion of the agency of demons in the production of supernatural effects. These opinions are not supposed by us for the purpose of argument, but are evidently recognised in the Jewish writings as well as in ours. And it ought moreover to be considered, that in these opinions the Jews of that age had been from their infancy brought up; that they were opinions, the grounds of which they had probably few of them inquired into, and of the truth of which they entertained no doubt. And I think that these two opinions conjointly afford an explanation of their conduct. The first put them upon seeking out some excuse to themselves for not receiving Jesus in the character in which he claimed to be received; and the second supplied them with just such an excuse as they wanted. Let Jesus work what miracles he would, still the answer was in readiness, "that he wrought them by the assistance of Beelzebub." And to this answer no reply could be made, but that which our Saviour did make, by showing that the tendency of his mission was so adverse to the views with which this being was, by the objectors themselves, supposed to act, that it could not reasonably be supposed that he would assist in carrying it on. The power displayed in the miracles did not alone refute the Jewish solution, because the interposition of invisible agents being once admitted, it is impossible to ascertain the limits by which their efficiency is circumscribed. We of this day may be disposed possibly to think such opinions too absurd to have been ever seriously entertained. I am not bound to contend for the credibility of the opinions. They were at least as reasonable as the belief in witchcraft. They were opinions in which the Jews of that age had from their infancy been instructed; and those who cannot see enough in the force of this reason to account for their conduct towards our Saviour, do not sufficiently consider how such opinions may sometimes become very general in a country, and with what pertinacity, when once become so, they are for that reason alone adhered to. In the suspense which these notions and the prejudices resulting from them might occasion, the candid and docile and humble-minded would probably decide in Christ's favour; the proud and obstinate, together with the giddy and the thoughtless, almost universally against him. This state of opinion discovers to us also the reason of what some choose to wonder at, why the Jews should reject miracles when they saw them, yet rely so much upon the tradition of them in their own history. It does not appear that it had ever entered into the minds of those who lived in the time of Moses and the prophets to ascribe their miracles to the supernatural agency of evil being. The solution was not then invented. The authority of Moses and the prophets being established, and become the foundation of the national polity and religion, it was not probable that the later Jews, brought up in a reverence for that religion, and the subjects of that polity, should apply to their history a reasoning which tended to overthrow the foundation of both. II. The infidelity of the Gentile world, and that more especially of men of rank and learning in it, is resolvable into a principle which, in my judgment, will account for the inefficacy of any argument or any evidence whatever, viz. contempt prior to examination. The state of religion amongst the Greeks and Romans had a natural tendency to induce this disposition. Dionysius Halicarnassensis remarks, that there were six hundred different kinds of religions or sacred rites exercised at Rome. (Jortin's Remarks on Eccl. Hist. Vol. i. p. 371.) The superior classes of the community treated them all as fables. Can we wonder, then, that Christianity was included in the number, without inquiry into its separate merits, or the particular grounds of its pretensions? It might be either true or false for anything they knew about it. The religion had nothing in its character which immediately engaged their notice. It mixed with no politics. It produced no fine writers. It contained no curious speculations. When it did reach their knowledge, I doubt not but that it appeared to them a very strange system,--so unphilosophical,--dealing so little in argument and discussion, in such arguments however and discussions as they were accustomed to entertain. What is said of Jesus Christ, of his nature, office, and ministry, would be in the highest degree alien from the conceptions of their theology. The Redeemer and the destined Judge of the human race a poor young man, executed at Jerusalem with two thieves upon a cross! Still more would the language in which the Christian doctrine was delivered be dissonant and barbarous to their ears. What knew they of grace, of redemption, of justification, of the blood of Christ shed for the sins of men, of reconcilement, of mediation? Christianity was made up of points they had never thought of; of terms which they had never heard. It was presented also to the imagination of the learned Heathen under additional disadvantage, by reason of its real, and still more of its nominal, connexion with Judaism. It shared in the obloquy and ridicule with which that people and their religion were treated by the Greeks and Romans. They regarded Jehovah himself only as the idol of the Jewish nation, and what was related of him as of a piece with what was told of the tutelar deities of other countries; nay, the Jews were in a particular manner ridiculed for being a credulous race; so that whatever reports of a miraculous nature came out of that country were looked upon by the Heathen world as false and frivolous. When they heard of Christianity, they heard of it as a quarrel amongst this people about some articles of their own superstition. Despising, therefore, as they did, the whole system, it was not probable that they would enter, with any degree of seriousness or attention, into the detail of its disputes or the merits of either side. How little they knew, and with what carelessness they judged of these matters, appears, I think, pretty plainly from an example of no less weight than that of Tacitus, who, in a grave and professed discourse upon the history of the Jews, states that they worshipped the effigy of an ass. (Tacit. Hist. lib. v. c. 2.) The passage is a proof how prone the learned men of those times were, and upon how little evidence, to heap together stories which might increase the contempt and odium in which that people was holden. The same foolish charge is also confidently repeated by Plutarch. (Sympos. lib. iv. quaest. 5.) It is observable that all these considerations are of a nature to operate with the greatest force upon the highest ranks; upon men of education, and that order of the public from which writers are principally taken: I may add also upon the philosophical as well as the libertine character; upon the Antonines or Julian, not less than upon Nero or Domitian; and, more particularly, upon that large and polished class of men who acquiesced in the general persuasion, that all they had to do was to practise the duties of morality, and to worship the Deity more patrio; a habit of thinking, liberal as it may appear, which shuts the door against every argument for a new religion. The considerations above mentioned would acquire also strength from the prejudices which men of rank and learning universally entertain against anything that originates with the vulgar and illiterate; which prejudice is known to be as obstinate as any prejudice whatever. Yet Christianity was still making its way: and, amidst so many impediments to its progress, so much difficulty in procuring audience and attention, its actual success is more to be wondered at, than that it should not have universally conquered scorn and indifference, fixed the levity of a voluptuous age, or, through a cloud of adverse prejudications, opened for itself a passage to the hearts and understandings of the scholars of the age. And the cause which is here assigned for the rejection of Christianity by men of rank and learning among the Heathens, namely, a strong antecedent contempt, accounts also for their silence concerning it. If they had rejected it upon examination, they would have written about it; they would have given their reasons. Whereas, what men repudiate upon the strength of some prefixed persuasion, or from a settled contempt of the subject, of the persons who propose it, or of the manner in which it is proposed, they do not naturally write books about, or notice much in what they write upon other subjects. The letters of the younger Pliny furnish an example of this silence, and let us, in some measure, into the cause of it. From his celebrated correspondence with Trajan, we know that the Christian religion prevailed in a very considerable degree in the province over which he presided; that it had excited his attention; that he had inquired into the matter just so much as a Roman magistrate might be expected to inquire, viz., whether the religion contained any opinions dangerous to government; but that of its doctrines, its evidences, or its books, he had not taken the trouble to inform himself with any degree of care or correctness. But although Pliny had viewed Christianity in a nearer position than most of his learned countrymen saw it in, yet he had regarded the whole with such negligence and disdain (further than as it seemed to concern his administration), that, in more than two hundred and forty letters of his which have come down to us, the subject is never once again mentioned. If, out of this number, the two letters between him and Trajan had been lost, with what confidence would the obscurity of the Christian religion have been argued from Pliny's silence about it, and with how little truth! The name and character which Tacitus has given to Christianity, "exitiabilis superstitio" (a pernicious superstition), and by which two words he disposes of the whole question of the merits or demerits of the religion, afford a strong proof how little he knew, or concerned himself to know, about the matter. I apprehend that I shall not be contradicted, when I take upon me to assert, that no unbeliever of the present age would apply this epithet to the Christianity of the New Testament, or not allow that it was entirely unmerited. Read the instructions given by a great teacher of the religion to those very Roman converts of whom Tacitus speaks; and given also a very few years before the time of which he is speaking; and which are not, let it be observed, a collection of fine sayings brought together from different parts of a large work, but stand in one entire passage of a public letter, without the intermixture of a single thought which is frivolous or exceptionable:--"Abhor that which is evil, cleave to that which is good. Be kindly affectioned one to another, with brotherly love; in honour preferring one another; not slothful in business; fervent in spirit; serving the Lord; rejoicing in hope; patient in tribulation; continuing instant in prayer; distributing to the necessity of saints; given to hospitality. Bless them which persecute you; bless, and curse not. Rejoice with them that do rejoice, and weep with them that weep. Be of the same mind one towards another. Mind not high things, but condescend to men of low estate. Be not wise in your own conceits. Recompense to no man evil for evil. Provide things honest in the sight of all men. If it be possible, as much as lieth in you, live peaceably with all men. Avenge not yourselves, but rather give place unto wrath: for it is written, Vengeance is mine; I will repay, saith the Lord: therefore, if thine enemy hunger, feed him; if he thirst, give him drink: for, in so doing, thou shalt heap coals of fire on his head. Be not overcome of evil, but overcome evil with good. "Let every soul be subject unto the higher powers. For there is no power but of God: the powers that be are ordained of God. Whosoever, therefore, resisteth the power, resisteth the ordinance of God: and they that resist shall receive to themselves damnation. For rulers are not a terror to good works, but to the evil. Wilt thou then not be afraid of the power? Do that which is good, and thou shalt have praise of the same: for he is the minister of God to thee for good. But if thou do that which is evil, be afraid; for he beareth not the sword in vain: for he is the minister of God, a revenger to execute wrath upon him that doeth evil. Wherefore ye must needs be subject, not only for wrath, but also for conscience' sake. For, for this cause pay ye tribute also: for they are God's ministers, attending continually upon this very thing. Render therefore to all their dues; tribute to whom tribute is due; custom to whom custom; fear to whom fear; honour to whom honour. "Owe no man anything, but to love one another; for he that loveth another, hath fulfilled the law. For this, Thou shalt not commit adultery, Thou shalt not kill, Thou shalt not steal, Thou shalt not bear false witness, Thou shalt not covet; and if there be any other commandment, it is briefly comprehended in this saying, Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself. Love worketh no ill to his neighbour; therefore love is the fulfilling of the law. "And that, knowing the time, that now it is high time to awake out of sleep; for now is our salvation nearer than when we believed. The night is far spent, the day is at hand; let us therefore cast off the works of darkness, and let us put on the armour of light. Let us walk honestly as in the day; not in rioting and drunkenness, not in chambering and wantonness, not in strife and envying." (Romans, xii. 9--xiii. 13.) Read this, and then think of "exitiabilis superstitio!" Or, if we be not allowed, in contending with Heathen authorities, to produce our books against theirs, we may at least be permitted to confront theirs with one another. Of this "pernicious superstition" what could Pliny find to blame, when he was led, by his office, to institute something like an examination into the conduct and principles of the sect? He discovered nothing but that they were went to meet together on a stated day before it was light, and sing among themselves a hymn to Christ as a God, and to bind themselves by an oath, not to the commission of any wickedness, but, not to be guilty of theft, robbery, or adultery; never to falsify their word, nor to deny a pledge committed to them, when called upon to return it. Upon the words of Tacitus we may build the following observations: First; That we are well warranted in calling the view under which the learned men of that age beheld Christianity an obscure and distant view. Had Tacitus known more of Christianity, of its precepts, duties, constitution, or design, however he had discredited the story, he would have respected the principle. He would have described the religion differently, though he had rejected it. It has been very satisfactorily shown, that the "superstition" of the Christians consisted in worshipping a person unknown to the Roman calendar; and that the "perniciousness" with which they were reproached was nothing else but their opposition to the established polytheism; and this view of the matter was just such an one as might be expected to occur to a mind which held the sect in too much contempt to concern itself about the grounds and reasons of their conduct. Secondly; We may from hence remark how little reliance can be placed upon the most acute judgments in subjects which they are pleased to despise; and which, of course, they from the first consider as unworthy to be inquired into. Had not Christianity survived to tell its own story, it must have gone down to posterity as a "pernicious superstition;" and that upon the credit of Tacitus's account, much, I doubt not, strengthened by the name of the writer, and the reputation of his sagacity. Thirdly; That this contempt, prior to examination, is an intellectual vice, from which the greatest faculties of mind are not free. I know not, indeed, whether men of the greatest faculties of mind are not the most subject to it. Such men feel themselves seated upon an eminence. Looking down from their height upon the follies of mankind, they behold contending tenets wasting their idle strength upon one another with the common disdain of the absurdity of them all. This habit of thought, however comfortable to the mind which entertain it, or however natural to great parts, is extremely dangerous; and more apt than almost any other disposition to produce hasty and contemptuous, and, by consequence, erroneous judgments, both of persons and opinions. Fourthly; We need not be surprised at many writers of that age not mentioning Christianity at all, when they who did mention it appear to have entirely misconceived its nature and character; and, in consequence of this misconception, to have regarded it with negligence and contempt. To the knowledge of the greatest part of the learned heathens, the facts of the Christian history could only come by report. The books, probably, they had never looked into. The settled habit of their minds was, and long had been, an indiscriminate rejection of all reports of the kind. With these sweeping conclusions truth hath no chance. It depends upon distinction. If they would not inquire, how should they be convinced? It might be founded in truth, though they, who made no search, might not discover it. "Men of rank and fortune, of wit and abilities, are often found, even in Christian countries, to be surprisingly ignorant of religion, and of everything that relates to it. Such were many of the heathens. Their thoughts were all fixed upon other things; upon reputation and glory, upon wealth and power, upon luxury and pleasure, upon business or learning. They thought, and they had reason to think, that the religion of their country was fable and forgery, a heap of inconsistent lies; which inclined them to suppose that other religions were no better. Hence it came to pass, that when the apostles preached the Gospel, and wrought miracles in confirmation of a doctrine every way worthy of God, many Gentiles knew little or nothing of it, and would not take the least pains to inform themselves about it. This appears plainly from ancient history." (Jortin's Disc. on the Christ. Rel. p. 66, ed. 4th.) I think it by no means unreasonable to suppose that the heathen public, especially that part which is made up of men of rank and education, were divided into two classes; these who despised Christianity beforehand, and those who received it. In correspondency with which division of character the writers of that age would also be of two classes; those who were silent about Christianity, and those who were Christians. "A good man, who attended sufficiently to the Christian affairs, would become a Christian; after which his testimony ceased to be pagan and became Christian." (Hartley, Obs. p. 119.) I must also add, that I think it sufficiently proved, that the notion of magic was resorted to by the heathen adversaries of Christianity, in like manner as that of diabolical agency had before been by the Jews. Justin Martyr alleges this as his reason for arguing from prophecy rather than from miracles. Origen imputes this evasion to Celsus; Jerome to Porphyry; and Lactantius to the heathen in general. The several passages which contain these testimonies will be produced in the next chapter. It being difficult, however, to ascertain in what degree this notion prevailed, especially the superior ranks of the heathen communities, another, and think an adequate, cause has been assigned for their infidelity. It is probable that in many cases the two causes would together. CHAPTER V. THAT THE CHRISTIAN MIRACLES ARE NOT RECITED, OR APPEALED TO, BY EARLY CHRISTIAN WRITERS THEMSELVES SO FULLY OR FREQUENTLY AS MIGHT HAVE BEEN EXPECTED. I shall consider this objection, first, as it applies to the letters of the apostles preserved in the New Testament; and secondly, as it applies to the remaining writings of other early Christians. The epistles of the apostles are either hortatory or argumentative. So far as they were occupied in delivering lessons of duty, rules of public order, admonitions against certain prevailing corruptions, against vice, or any particular species of it, or in fortifying and encouraging the constancy of the disciples under the trials to which they were exposed, there appears to be no place or occasion for more of these references than we actually find. So far as these epistles are argumentative, the nature of the argument which they handle accounts for the infrequency of these allusions. These epistles were not written to prove the truth of Christianity. The subject under consideration was not that which the miracles decided, the reality of our Lord's mission; but it was that which the miracles did not decide, the nature of his person or power, the design of his advent, its effects, and of those effects the value, kind, and extent. Still I maintain that miraculous evidence lies at the bottom of the argument. For nothing could be so preposterous as for the disciples of Jesus to dispute amongst themselves, or with others, concerning his office or character; unless they believed that he had shown, by supernatural proofs, that there was something extraordinary in both. Miraculous evidence, therefore, forming not the texture of these arguments, but the ground and substratum, if it be occasionally discerned, if it be incidentally appealed to, it is exactly so much as ought take place, supposing the history to be true. As a further answer to the objection, that the apostolic epistles do not contain so frequent, or such direct and circumstantial recitals of miracles as might be expected, I would add, that the apostolic epistles resemble in this respect the apostolic speeches, which speeches are given by a writer who distinctly records numerous miracles wrought by these apostles themselves, and by the Founder of the institution in their presence; that it is unwarrantable to contend that the omission, or infrequency, of such recitals in the speeches of the apostles negatives the existence of the miracles, when the speeches are given in immediate conjunction with the history of those miracles: and that a conclusion which cannot be inferred from the speeches without contradicting the whole tenour of the book which contains them cannot be inferred from letters, which in this respect are similar only to the speeches. To prove the similitude which we allege, it may be remarked, that although in Saint Luke's Gospel the apostle Peter is represented to have been present at many decisive miracles wrought by Christ; and although the second part of the same history ascribes other decisive miracles to Peter himself, particularly the cure of the lame man at the gate of the temple (Acts iii. 1), the death of Ananias and Sapphira (Acts v. 1), the cure of Aeneas (Acts ix. 34), the resurrection of Dorcas (Acts ix. 40); yet out of six speeches of Peter, preserved in the Acts, I know but two in which reference is made to the miracles wrought by Christ, and only one in which he refers to miraculous powers possessed by himself. In his speech upon the day of Pentecost, Peter addresses his audience with great solemnity thus: "Ye men of Israel, hear these words: Jesus of Nazareth, a man approved of God among you, by miracles, and wonders, and signs, which God did by him in the midst of you, as ye yourselves also know:" (Acts ii. 22.) &c. In his speech upon the conversion of Cornelius, he delivers his testimony to the miracles performed by Christ in these words: "We are witnesses of all things which he did, both in the land of the Jews and in Jerusalem." (Acts x. 39.) But in this latter speech no allusion appears to the miracles wrought by himself notwithstanding that the miracles above enumerated all preceded the time in which it was delivered. In his speech upon the election of Matthias, (Acts i. 15.) no distinct reference is made to any of the miracles of Christ's history except his resurrection. The same also may be observed of his speech upon the cure of the lame man at the of the temple; (Acts iii. 12.) the same in his speech before the Sanhedrim; (Acts iv. 8.) the same in his second apology in the presence of that assembly Stephen's long speech contains no reference whatever to miracles, though it be expressly related of him, in the book which preserves the speech, and almost immediately before the speech, "that he did great wonders and miracles among the people." (Acts vi. 8.) Again, although miracles be expressly attributed to Saint Paul in the Acts of the Apostles, first generally, as at Iconium (Acts xiv. 3), during the whole tour through the Upper Asia (xiv. 27; xv. 12), at Ephesus (xix. 11, 12); secondly, in specific instances, as the blindness of Elymas at Paphos, (Acts xiii. 11.) the cure of the cripple at Lystra, (Acts xiv. 8.) of the pythoness at Philippi, (Acts xvi. 16.) the miraculous liberation from prison in the same city, (Acts xvi. 26.) the restoration of Eutychus, (Acts xx. 10.) the predictions of his shipwreck, (Acts xxvii. 1.) the viper at Melita, the cure of Publius's father; (Acts xxvii. 8.) at all which miracles, except the first two, the historian himself was present: notwithstanding, I say, this positive ascription of miracles to St. Paul, yet in the speeches delivered by him, and given as delivered by him, in the same book in which the miracles are related, and the miraculous powers asserted, the appeals to his own miracles, or indeed to any miracles at all, are rare and incidental. In his speech at Antioch in Pisidia, (Acts xiii. 16.) there is no allusion but to the resurrection. In his discourse at Miletus, (Acts xx. 17.) none to any miracle: none in his speech before Felix; (Acts xxiv. 10.) none in his speech before Festus; (Acts xxv. 8.) except to Christ's resurrection and his own conversion. Agreeably hereunto, in thirteen letters ascribed to Saint Paul, we have incessant references to Christ's resurrection, frequent references to his own conversion, three indubitable references to the miracles which he wrought; (Gal. iii. 5; Rom. xv. 18, 19; 2 Cor. xii. 12.) four other references to the same, less direct, yet highly probable; (1 Cor. ii. 4,5; Eph. iii. 7; Gal. ii. 8; 1 Thess. i. 8.) but more copious or circumstantial recitals we have not. The consent, therefore, between Saint Paul's speeches and letters is in this respect sufficiently exact; and the reason in both is the same, namely, that the miraculous history was all along presupposed, and that the question which occupied the speaker's and the writer's thoughts was this: whether, allowing the history of Jesus to be true, he was, upon the strength of it, to be received as the promised Messiah; and, if he was, what were the consequences, what was the object and benefit of his mission? The general observation which has been made upon the apostolic writings, namely, that the subject of which they treated did not lead them to any direct recital of the Christian history, belongs to the writings of the apostolic fathers. The epistle of Barnabas is, in its subject and general composition, much like the epistle to the Hebrews; an allegorical application of divers passages of the Jewish history, of their law and ritual, to those parts of the Christian dispensation in which the author perceived a resemblance. The epistle of Clement was written for the sole purpose of quieting certain dissensions that had arisen amongst the members of the church of Corinth, and of reviving in their minds that temper and spirit of which their predecessors in the Gospel had left them an example. The work of Hermas is a vision; quotes neither the Old Testament nor the New, and merely falls now and then into the language and the mode of speech which the author had read in our Gospels. The epistles of Polycarp and Ignatius had for their principal object the order and discipline of the churches which they addressed. Yet, under all these circumstances of disadvantage, the great points of the Christian history are fully recognised. This hath been shown in its proper place. (Vide supra, pp. 48-51. [Part 1, Chapter 8]) There is, however, another class of writers to whom the answer above given, viz. the unsuitableness of any such appeals or references as the objection demands to the subjects of which the writings treated, does not apply; and that is the class of ancient apologists, whose declared design it was to defend Christianity, and to give the reasons of their adherence to it. It is necessary, therefore, to inquire how the matter of the objection stands in these. The most ancient apologist of whose works we have the smallest knowledge is Quadratus. Quadratus lived about seventy years after the ascension, and presented his apology to the Emperor Adrian. From a passage of this work, preserved in Eusebius, it appears that the author did directly and formally appeal to the miracles of Christ, and in terms as express and confident as we could desire. The passage (which has been once already stated) is as follows: "The works of our Saviour were always conspicuous, for they were real: both they that were healed, and they that were raised from the dead, were seen, not only when they were healed or raised, but for a long time afterwards; not only whilst he dwelled on this earth, but also after his departure, and for a good while after it; insomuch as that some of them have reached to our times," (Euseb. Hist. I. iv. c. 3.) Nothing can be more rational or satisfactory than this. Justin Martyr, the next of the Christian apologists, whose work is not lost, and who followed Quadratus at the distance of about thirty years, has touched upon passages of Christ's history in so many places, that a tolerably complete account of Christ's life might be collected out of his works. In the following quotation he asserts the performance of miracles by Christ, in words as strong and positive as the language possesses: "Christ healed those who from their birth were blind, and deaf, and lame; causing, by his word, one to leap, another to hear, and a third to see; and having raised the dead, and caused them to live, he, by his works, excited attention, and induced the men of that age to know him: who, however, seeing these things done, said that it was a magical appearance, and dared to call him a magician, and a deceiver of the people." (Just. Dial. p. 258, ed. Thirlby.) In his first apology, (Apolog. prim. p. 48, ib.) Justin expressly assigns the reason for his having recourse to the argument from prophecy, rather than alleging the miracles of the Christian history; which reason was, that the persons with whom he contended would ascribe these miracles to magic; "lest any of our opponents should say, What hinders, but that he who is called Christ by us, being a man sprung from men, performed the miracles which we attribute to him by magical art?" The suggestion of this reason meets, as I apprehend, the very point of the present objection; more especially when we find Justin followed in it by other writers of that age. Irenaeus, who came about forty years after him, notices the same evasion in the adversaries of Christianity, and replies to it by the same argument: "But if they shall say, that the Lord performed these things by an illusory appearance (phantasiodos), leading these objectors to the prophecies, we will show from them, that all things were thus predicted concerning him, and Strictly came to pass." (Iren. I. ii. c. 57.) Lactantius, who lived a century lower, delivers the same sentiment upon the same occasion: "He performed miracles;--we might have supposed him to have been a magician, as ye say, and as the Jews then supposed, if all the prophets had not with one spirit foretold that Christ should perform these very things." (Lactant. v. 3.) But to return to the Christian apologists in their order. Tertullian:--"That person whom the Jews had vainly imagined, from the meanness of his appearance, to be a mere man, they afterwards, in consequence of the power he exerted, considered as a magician, when he, with one word, ejected devils out of the bodies of men, gave sight to the blind, cleansed the leprous, strengthened the nerves of those that had the palsy, and lastly, with one command, restored the dead to life; when he, I say, made the very elements obey him, assuaged the storms, walked upon the seas, demonstrating himself to be the Word of God." (Tertul. Apolos. p. 20; ed. Priorii, Par. 1675.) Next in the catalogue of professed apologists we may place Origen, who, it is well known, published a formal defence of Christianity, in answer to Celsus, a heathen, who had written a discourse against it. I know no expressions by which a plainer or more positive appeal to the Christian miracles can be made, than the expressions used by Origen; "Undoubtedly we do think him to be the Christ, and the Son of God, because he healed the lame and the blind; and we are the more confirmed in this persuasion by what is written in the prophecies: 'Then shall the eyes of the blind be opened, and the ears of the deaf shall hear, and the lame man shall leap as a hart.' But that he also raised the dead, and that it is not a fiction of those who wrote the Gospels, is evident from hence, that if it had been a fiction, there would have been many recorded to be raised up, and such as had been a long time in their graves. But, it not being a fiction, few have been recorded: for instance, the daughter of the ruler of a synagogue, of whom I do not know why he said, She is not dead, but sleepeth, expressing something peculiar to her, not common to all dead persons: and the only son of a widow, on whom he had compassion, and raised him to life, after he had bid the bearers of the corpse to stop; and the third, Lazarus, who had been buried four days." This is positively to assert the miracles of Christ, and it is also to comment upon them, and that with a considerable degree of accuracy and candour. In another passage of the same author, we meet with the old solution of magic applied to the miracles of Christ by the adversaries of the religion. "Celsus," saith Origen, "well knowing what great works may be alleged to have been done by Jesus, pretends to grant that the things related of him are true; such as healing diseases, raising the dead, feeding multitudes with a few leaves, of which large fragments were left." (Orig. cont. Cels. lib. ii. sect. 48.) And then Celsus gives, it seems, an answer to these proofs of our Lord's mission, which, as Origen understood it, resolved the phenomena into magic; for Origen begins his reply by observing, "You see that Celsus in a manner allows that there is such a thing as magic." (Lardner's Jewish and Heath. Test, vol. ii. p. 294, ed. 4to.) It appears also from the testimony of St. Jerome, that Porphyry, the most learned and able of the heathen writers against Christianity, resorted to the same solution: "Unless," says he, speaking to Vigilantius, "according to the manner of the Gentiles and the profane, of Porphyry and Eunomius, you pretend that these are the tricks of demons." (Jerome cont. Vigil.) This magic, these demons, this illusory appearance, this comparison with the tricks of jugglers, by which many of that age accounted so easily for the Christian miracles, and which answers the advocates of Christianity often thought it necessary to refute by arguments drawn from other topics, and particularly from prophecy (to which, it seems, these solutions did not apply), we now perceive to be gross subterfuges. That such reasons were ever seriously urged and seriously received, is only a proof what a gloss and varnish fashion can give to any opinion. It appears, therefore, that the miracles of Christ, understood as we understand them in their literal and historical sense, were positively and precisely asserted and appealed to by the apologists for Christianity; which answers the allegation of the objection. I am ready, however, to admit, that the ancient Christian advocates did not insist upon the miracles in argument so frequently as I should have done. It was their lot to contend with notions of magical agency, against which the mere production of the facts was not sufficient for the convincing of their adversaries: I do not know whether they themselves thought it quite decisive of the controversy. But since it is proved, I conceive with certainty, that the sparingness with which they appealed to miracles was owing neither to their ignorance nor their doubt of the facts, it is, at any rate, an objection not to the truth of the history, but to the judgment of its defenders. CHAPTER VI. WANT OF UNIVERSALITY IN THE KNOWLEDGE AND RECEPTION OF CHRISTIANITY, AND OF GREATER CLEARNESS IN THE EVIDENCE. Or, a Revelation which really came from God, the proof, it has been said, would in all ages be so public and manifest, that no part of the human species would remain ignorant of it, no understanding could fail of being convinced by it. The advocates of Christianity do not pretend that the evidence of their religion possesses these qualities. They do not deny that we can conceive it to be within the compass of divine power to have communicated to the world a higher degree of assurance, and to have given to his communication a stronger and more extensive influence. For anything we are able to discern, God could have so formed men, as to have perceived the truths of religion intuitively; or to have carried on a communication with the other world whilst they lived in this; or to have seen the individuals of the species, instead of dying, pass to heaven by a sensible translation. He could have presented a separate miracle to each man's senses. He could have established a standing miracle. He could have caused miracles to be wrought in every different age and country. These and many more methods, which we may imagine if we once give loose to our imaginations, are, so far as we can judge, all practicable. The question therefore is, not whether Christianity possesses the highest possible degree of evidence, but whether the not having more evidence be a sufficient reason for rejecting that which we have. Now there appears to be no fairer method of judging concerning any dispensation which is alleged to come from God, when question is made whether such a dispensation could come from God or not, than by comparing it with other things which are acknowledged to proceed from the same counsel, and to be produced by the same agency. If the dispensation in question labour under no defects but what apparently belong to other dispensations, these seeming defects do not justify us in setting aside the proofs which are offered of its authenticity, if they be otherwise entitled to credit. Throughout that order then of nature, of which God is the author, what we find is a system of beneficence: we are seldom or never able to make out a system of optimism. I mean, that there are few cases in which, if we permit ourselves to range in possibilities, we cannot suppose something more perfect, and, more unobjectionable, than what we see. The rain which descends from heaven is confessedly amongst the contrivances of the Creator for the sustentation of the animals and vegetables which subsist upon the surface of the earth. Yet how partially: and irregularly is it supplied! How much of it falls upon sea, where it can be of no use! how often is it wanted where it would be of the greatest! What tracts of continent are rendered deserts by the scarcity of it! Or, not to speak of extreme cases, how much sometimes do inhabited countries suffer by its deficiency or delay!--We could imagine, if to imagine were our business, the matter to be otherwise regulated. We could imagine showers to fall just where and when they would do good; always seasonable, everywhere sufficient; so distributed as not to leave a field upon the face of the globe scorched by drought or even a plant withering for the lack of moisture. Yet, does the difference between the real case and the imagined case, or the seeming inferiority of the one to the other, authorise us to say, that the present disposition of the atmosphere is not amongst the productions or the designs of the Deity? Does it check the inference which we draw from the confessed beneficence of the provision? or does it make us cease to admire the contrivance? The observation which we have exemplified in the single instance of the rain of heaven may be repeated concerning most of the phenomena of nature; and the true conclusion to which it leads is this--that to inquire what the Deity might have done, could have done, or, as we even sometimes presume to speak, ought to have done, or, in hypothetical cases, would have done; and to build any propositions upon such inquiries against evidence of facts, is wholly unwarrantable. It is a mode of reasoning which will not do in natural history, which will not do in natural religion, which cannot therefore be applied with safety to revelation. It may have same foundation in certain speculative a priori ideas of the divine attributes, but it has none in experience or in analogy. The general character of the works of nature is, on the one hand, goodness both in design and effect; and, on the other hand, a liability to difficulty and to objections, if such objections be allowed, by reason of seeming incompleteness or uncertainty in attaining their end. Christianity participates of this character. The true similitude between nature and revelation consists in this--that they each bear strong marks of their original, that they each also bear appearances of irregularity and defect. A system of strict optimism may, nevertheless, be the real system in both cases. But what I contend is, that the proof is hidden from us; that we ought not to expect to perceive that in revelation which we hardly perceive in anything; that beneficence, of which, we can judge, ought to satisfy us that optimism, of which we cannot judge, ought not to be sought after. We can judge of beneficence, because it depends upon effects which we experience, and upon the relation between the means which we see acting and the ends which we see produced. We cannot judge of optimism because it necessarily implies a comparison of that which is tried with that which is not tried; of consequences which we see with others which we imagine, and concerning many of which, it is more than probable, we know nothing; concerning some that we have no notion. If Christianity be compared with the state and progress of natural religion, the argument of the objector will gain nothing by the comparison. I remember hearing an unbeliever say that, if God had given a revelation, he would have written it in the skies. Are the truths of natural religion written in the skies, or in a language which every one reads? or is this the case with the most useful arts, or the most necessary sciences of human life? An Otaheitean or an Esquimaux knows nothing of Christianity; does he know more of the principles of deism or morality? which, notwithstanding his ignorance, are neither untrue, nor unimportant, nor uncertain. The existence of Deity is left to be collected from observations, which every man does not make, which every man, perhaps, is not capable of making. Can it be argued that God does not exist because if he did, he would let us see him, or discover himself to man kind by proofs (such as, we may think, the nature of the subject merited) which no inadvertency could miss, no prejudice withstand? If Christianity be regarded as a providential instrument the melioration of mankind, its progress and diffusion that of other causes by which human life is improved diversity is not greater, nor the advance more slow, in than we find it to be in learning, liberty, government, laws. The Deity hath not touched the order of nature in vain. The Jewish religion produced great and permanent effects; the Christian religion hath done the same. It hath disposed the world to amendment: it hath put things in a train. It is by no means improbable that it may become universal; and that the world may continue in that stage so long as that the duration of its reign may bear a vast proportion to the time of its partial influence. When we argue concerning Christianity, that it must necessarily be true because it is beneficial, we go, perhaps, too far on one side; and we certainly go too far on the other when we conclude that it must be false because it is not so efficacious as we could have supposed. The question of its truth is to be tried upon its proper evidence, without deferring much to this sort of argument on either side. "The evidence," as Bishop Butler hath rightly observed, "depends upon the judgment we form of human conduct, under given circumstances, of which it may be presumed that we know something; the objection stands upon the supposed conduct of the Deity, under relations with which we are not acquainted." What would be the real effect of that overpowering evidence which our adversaries require in a revelation it is difficult foretell; at least we must speak of it as of a dispensation which we have no experience. Some consequences, however, would, it is probable, attend this economy, which do not seem to befit a revelation that proceeded from God. One is, that irresistible proof would restrain the voluntary powers too much; would not answer the purpose of trial and probation; would call for no exercise of candour, seriousness, humility, inquiry, no submission of passion, interests, and prejudices, to moral evidence and to probable truth; no habits of reflection; none of that previous desire to learn and to obey the will of God, which forms perhaps the test of the virtuous principle, and which induces men to attend, with care and reverence, to every credible intimation of that will, and to resign present advantages and present pleasures to every reasonable expectation of propitiating his favour. "Men's moral probation may be, whether they will take due care to inform themselves by impartial consideration; and, afterwards, whether they will act, as the case requires, upon the evidence which they have. And this we find by experience is often our probation in our temporal capacity." (Butler's Analogy, part ii. c. 6.) II. These modes of communication would leave no place for the admission of internal evidence; which ought, perhaps, to bear a considerable part in the proof of every revelation, because it is a species of evidence which applies itself to the knowledge, love, and practice, of virtue, and which operates in proportion to the degree of those qualities which it finds in the person whom it addresses. Men of good dispositions, amongst Christians, are greatly affected by the impression which the Scriptures themselves make upon their minds. Their conviction is much strengthened by these impressions. And this perhaps was intended to be one effect to be produced by the religion. It is likewise true, to whatever cause we ascribe it (for I am not in this work at liberty to introduce the Christian doctrine of grace or assistance, or the Christian promise that, "if any man will do his will, he shall know of the doctrine, whether it be of God" John vii. 17.),--it is true, I say, that they who sincerely act, or sincerely endeavour to act, according to what they believe, that is, according to the just result of the probabilities, or, if you please, the possibilities in natural and revealed religion, which they themselves perceive, and according to a rational estimate of consequences, and, above all, according to the just effect of those principles of gratitude and devotion which even the view of nature generates in a well-ordered mind, seldom fail of proceeding farther. This also may have been exactly what was designed. Whereas, may it not be said that irresistible evidence would confound all characters and all dispositions? would subvert rather than promote the true purpose of the Divine counsels; which is, not to produce obedience by a force little short of mechanical constraint, (which obedience would be regularity, not virtue, and would hardly perhaps differ from that which inanimate bodies pay to the laws impressed upon their nature), but to treat moral agents agreeably to what they are; which is done, when light and motives are of such kinds, and are imparted in such measures, that the influence of them depends upon the recipients themselves? "It is not meet to govern rational free agents in via by sight and sense. It would be no trial or thanks to the most sensual wretch to forbear sinning, if heaven and hell were open to his sight. That spiritual vision and fruition is our state in patria." (Baxter's Reasons, p. 357.) There may be truth in this thought, though roughly expressed. Few things are more improbable than that we (the human species) should be the highest order of beings in the universe: that animated nature should ascend from the lowest reptile to us, and all at once stop there. If there be classes above us of rational intelligences, clearer manifestations may belong to them. This may be one of the distinctions. And it may be one to which we ourselves hereafter shall attain. III. But may it not also be asked, whether the perfect display of a future state of existence would be compatible with the activity of civil life, and with the success of human affairs? I can easily conceive that this impression may be overdone; that it may so seize and fill the thoughts as to leave no place for the cares and offices of men's several stations, no anxiety for worldly prosperity, or even for a worldly provision, and, by consequence, no sufficient stimulus to secular industry. Of the first Christians we read, "that all that believed were together, and had all things common; and sold their possessions and goods, and parted them to all men, as every man had need; and continuing daily with one accord in the temple, and breaking bread from house to house, did eat their meat with gladness and singleness of heart" (Acts ii. 44-46.) This was extremely natural, and just what might be expected from miraculous evidence coming with full force upon the senses of mankind: but I much doubt whether, if this state of mind had been universal, or long-continued, the business of the world could have gone on. The necessary art of social life would have been little cultivated. The plough and the loom would have stood still. Agriculture, manufactures, trade, and navigation, would not, I think, have flourished, if they could have been exercised at all. Men would have addicted themselves to contemplative and ascetic lives, instead of lives of business and of useful industry. We observe that St. Paul found it necessary frequently to recall his converts to the ordinary labours and domestic duties of their condition; and to give them, in his own example, a lesson of contented application to their worldly employments. By the manner in which the religion is now proposed, a great portion of the human species is enabled and of these multitudes of every generation are induced, to seek and effectuate their salvation through the medium of Christianity, without interruption of the prosperity or of the regular course of human affairs. CHAPTER VII. THE SUPPOSED EFFECTS OF CHRISTIANITY. That a religion which under every form in which it is taught holds forth the final reward of virtue and punishment of vice, and proposes those distinctions of virtue and vice which the wisest and most cultivated part of mankind confess to be just, should not be believed, is very possible; but that, so far as it is believed, it should not produce any good, but rather a bad effect upon public happiness, is a proposition which it requires very strong evidence to render credible. Yet many have been found to contend for this paradox, and very confident appeals have been made to history and to observation for the truth of it. In the conclusions, however, which these writers draw from what they call experience, two sources, I think, of mistake may be perceived. One is, that they look for the influence of religion in the wrong place. The other, that they charge Christianity with many consequences for which it is not responsible. I. The influence of religion is not to be sought for in the councils of princes, in the debates or resolutions of popular assemblies, in the conduct of governments towards their subjects, of states and sovereigns towards one another; of conquerors at the head of their armies, or of parties intriguing for power at home (topics which alone almost occupy the attention, and fill the pages of history); but must be perceived, if perceived at all, in the silent course of private and domestic life. Nay, even there its influence may not be very obvious to observation. If it check, in some degree, personal dissoluteness, if it beget general probity in the transaction of business, if it produce soft and humane manners in the mass of the community, and occasional exertions of laborious or expensive benevolence in a individuals, it is all the effect which can offer itself to external notice. The kingdom of heaven is within us. That which the substance of the religion, its hopes and consolation, its intermixture with the thoughts by day and by night, the devotion of the heart, the control of appetite, the steady direction of will to the commands of God, is necessarily invisible. Yet these depend the virtue and the happiness of millions. This cause renders the representations of history, with respect to religion, defect and fallacious in a greater degree than they are upon any other subject. Religion operates most upon those of whom history knows the least; upon fathers and mothers their families, upon men-servants and maid-servants, upon orderly tradesman, the quiet villager, the manufacturer at his loom, the husbandman in his fields. Amongst such, its collectively may be of inestimable value, yet its effects, in mean time, little upon those who figure upon the stage of world. They may know nothing of it; they may believe nothing of it; they may be actuated by motives more impetuous than those which religion is able to excite. It cannot, be thought strange that this influence should elude the grasp and touch of public history; for what is public history but register of the successes and disappointments, the vices, the follies, and the quarrels, of those who engage in contentions power? I will add, that much of this influence may be felt in times of public distress, and little of it in times of public wealth and security. This also increases the uncertainty of any opinions that we draw from historical representations. The influence of Christianity is commensurate with no effects which history states. We do not pretend that it has any such necessary and irresistible power over the affairs of nations as to surmount the force of other causes. The Christian religion also acts upon public usages and institutions, by an operation which is only secondary and indirect. Christianity is not a code of civil law. It can only reach public institutions through private character. Now its influence upon private character may be considerable, yet many public usages and institutions repugnant to its principles may remain. To get rid of these, the reigning part of the community must act, and act together. But it may be long before the persons who compose this body be sufficiently touched with the Christian character to join in the suppression of practices to which they and the public have been reconciled by causes which will reconcile the human mind to anything, by habit and interest. Nevertheless, the effects of Christianity, even in this view, have been important. It has mitigated the conduct of war, and the treatment of captives. It has softened the administration of despotic, or of nominally despotic governments. It has abolished polygamy. It has restrained the licentiousness of divorces. It has put an end to the exposure of children and the immolation of slaves. It has suppressed the combats of gladiators,* and the impurities of religions rites. It has banished, if not unnatural vices, at least the toleration of them. It has greatly meliorated the condition of the laborious part, that is to say, of the mass of every community, by procuring for them a day of weekly rest. In all countries in which it is professed it has produced numerous establishments for the relief of sickness and poverty; and in some, a regular and general provision by law. It has triumphed over the slavery established in the Roman empire: it is contending, and I trust will one day prevail, against the worse slavery of the West Indies. _________ * Lipsius affirms (Sat. b. i. c. 12) that the gladiatorial shows sometimes cost Europe twenty or thirty thousand lives in a month; and that not only the men, but even the women of all ranks were passionately fond of these shows. See Bishop Porteus, Sermon XIII. _________ A Christian writer, (Bardesanes, ap. Euseb. Praep. Evang. vi. 10.) so early as in the second century, has testified the resistance which Christianity made to wicked and licentious practices though established by law and by public usage:--"Neither in Parthia do the Christians, though Parthians, use polygamy; nor in Persia, though Persians, do they marry their own daughters; nor among the Bactri, or Galli, do they violate the sanctity of marriage; nor wherever they are, do they suffer themselves to be overcome by ill-constituted laws and manners." Socrates did not destroy the idolatry of Athens, or produce the slighter revolution in the manners of his country. But the argument to which I recur is, that the benefit of religion, being felt chiefly in the obscurity of private stations, necessarily escapes the observation of history. From the first general notification of Christianity to the present day, there have been in every age many millions, whose names were never heard of, made better by it, not only in their conduct, but in their disposition; and happier, not so much in their external circumstances, as in that which is inter praecordia, in that which alone deserves the name of happiness, the tranquillity and consolation of their thoughts. It has been since its commencement the author of happiness and virtue to millions and millions of the human race. Who is there that would not wish his son to be a Christian? Christianity also, in every country in which it is professed, hath obtained a sensible, although not a complete influence upon the public judgment of morals. And this is very important. For without the occasional correction which public opinion receives, by referring to some fixed standard of morality, no man can foretel into what extravagances it might wander. Assassination might become as honourable as duelling: unnatural crimes be accounted as venal as fornication is wont to be accounted. In this way it is possible that many may be kept in order by Christianity who are not themselves Christians. They may be guided by the rectitude which it communicates to public opinion. Their consciences may suggest their duty truly, and they may ascribe these suggestions to a moral sense, or to the native capacity of the human intellect, when in fact they are nothing more than the public opinion, reflected from their own minds; and opinion, in a considerable degree, modified by the lessons of Christianity. "Certain it is, and this is a great deal to say, that the generality, even of the meanest and most vulgar and ignorant people, have truer and worthier notions of God more just and right apprehensions concerning his attributes and perfections, a deeper sense of the difference of good and evil, a greater regard to moral obligations, and to the plain and most necessary duties of life, and a more firm and universal expectation of a future state of rewards and punishments, than in any heathen country any considerable number of men were found to have had." (Clarke, Ev. Nat. Rel. p. 208. ed. v.) After all, the value of Christianity is not to be appreciated by its temporal effects. The object of revelation is to influence human conduct in this life; but what is gained to happiness by that influence can only be estimated by taking in the whole of human existence. Then, as hath already been observed, there may be also great consequences of Christianity which do not belong to it as a revelation. The effects upon human salvation of the mission, of the death, of the present, of the future agency of Christ, may be universal, though the religion be not universally known. Secondly, I assert that Christianity is charged with many consequences for which it is not responsible. I believe that religious motives have had no more to do in the formation of nine tenths of the intolerant and persecuting laws which in different countries have been established upon the subject of religion, than they have had to do in England with the making of the game-laws. These measures, although they have the Christian religion for their subject, are resolvable into a principle which Christianity certainly did not plant (and which Christianity could not universally condemn, because it is not universally wrong), which principle is no other than this, that they who are in possession of power do what they can to keep it. Christianity is answerable for no part of the mischief which has been brought upon the world by persecution, except that which has arisen from conscientious persecutors. Now these perhaps have never been either numerous or powerful. Nor is it to Christianity that even their mistake can fairly be imputed. They have been misled by an error not properly Christian or religious, but by an error in their moral philosophy. They pursued the particular, without adverting to the general consequence. Believing certain articles of faith, or a certain mode of worship, to be highly conducive, or perhaps essential, to salvation, they thought themselves bound to bring all they could, by every means, into them, and this they thought, without considering what would be the effect of such a conclusion when adopted amongst mankind as a general rule of conduct. Had there been in the New Testament, what there are in the Koran, precepts authorising coercion in the propagation of the religion, and the use of violence towards unbelievers, the case would have been different. This distinction could not have been taken, nor this defence made. I apologise for no species nor degree of persecution, but I think that even the fact has been exaggerated. The slave-trade destroys more in a year than the Inquisition does in a hundred or perhaps hath done since its foundation. If it be objected, as I apprehend it will be, that Christianity is chargeable with every mischief of which it has been the occasion, though not the motive; I answer that, if the malevolent passions be there, the world will never want occasions. The noxious element will always find a conductor. Any point will produce an explosion. Did the applauded intercommunity of the pagan theology preserve the peace of the Roman world? did it prevent oppressions, proscriptions, massacres, devastation? Was it bigotry that carried Alexander into the East, or brought Caesar into Gaul? Are the nations of the world into which Christianity hath not found its way, or from which it hath been banished, free from contentions? Are their contentions less ruinous and sanguinary? Is it owing to Christianity, or to the want of it, that the regions of the East, the countries inter quatuor maria, peninsula of Greece, together with a great part of the Mediterranean coast, are at this day a desert? or that the banks of the Nile, whose constantly renewed fertility is not to be impaired by neglect, or destroyed by the ravages of war, serve only for the scene of a ferocious anarchy, or the supply of unceasing hostilities? Europe itself has known no religious wars for some centuries, yet has hardly ever been without war. Are the calamities which at this day afflict it to be imputed to Christianity? Hath Poland fallen by a Christian crusade? Hath the overthrow in France of civil order and security been effected by the votaries of our religion, or by the foes? Amongst the awful lessons which the crimes and the miseries of that country afford to mankind this is one; that in order to be a persecutor it is not necessary to be a bigot: that in rage and cruelty, in mischief and destruction, fanaticism itself can be outdone by infidelity. Finally, if war, as it is now carried on between nations produce less misery and ruin than formerly, we are indebted perhaps to Christianity for the change more than to any other cause. Viewed therefore even in its relation to this subject, it appears to have been of advantage to the world. It hath humanised the conduct of wars; it hath ceased to excite them. The differences of opinion that have in all ages prevailed amongst Christians fall very much within the alternative which has been stated. If we possessed the disposition which Christianity labours, above all other qualities, to inculcate, these differences would do little harm. If that disposition be wanting, other causes, even were these absent, would continually rise up to call forth the malevolent passions into action. Differences of opinion, when accompanied with mutual charity, which Christianity forbids them to violate, are for the most part innocent, and for some purposes useful. They promote inquiry, discussion, and knowledge. They help to keep up an attention to religious subjects, and a concern about them, which might be apt to die away in the calm and silence of universal agreement. I do not know that it is in any degree true that the influence of religion is the greatest where there are the fewest dissenters. CHAPTER VIII. THE CONCLUSION, In religion, as in every other subject of human reasoning, much depends upon the order in which we dispose our inquiries. A man who takes up a system of divinity with a previous opinion that either every part must be true or the whole false, approaches the discussion with great disadvantage. No other system, which is founded upon moral evidence, would bear to be treated in the same manner. Nevertheless, in a certain degree, we are all introduced to our religious studies under this prejudication. And it cannot be avoided. The weakness of the human judgment in the early part of youth, yet its extreme susceptibility of impression, renders it necessary to furnish it with some opinions, and with some principles or other. Or indeed, without much express care, or much endeavour for this purpose, the tendency of the mind of man to assimilate itself to the habits of thinking and speaking which prevail around him, produces the same effect. That indifferency and suspense, that waiting and equilibrium of the judgment, which some require in religious matters, and which some would wish to be aimed at in the conduct of education, are impossible to be preserved. They are not given to the condition of human life. It is a consequence of this institution that the doctrines of religion come to us before the proofs; and come to us with that mixture of explications and inferences from which no public creed is, or can be, free. And the effect which too frequently follows, from Christianity being presented to the understanding in this form, is, that when any articles, which appear as parts of it, contradict the apprehension of the persons to whom it is proposed, men of rash and confident tempers hastily and indiscriminately reject the whole. But is this to do justice, either to themselves or to the religion? The rational way of treating a subject of such acknowledged importance is, to attend, in the first place, to the general and substantial truth of its principles, and to that alone. When we once feel a foundation; when we once perceive a ground of credibility in its history; we shall proceed with safety to inquire into the interpretation of its records, and into the doctrines which have been deduced from them. Nor will it either endanger our faith, or diminish or alter our motives for obedience, if we should discover that these conclusions are formed with very different degrees of probability, and possess very different degrees of importance. This conduct of the understanding, dictated by every rule of right reasoning, will uphold personal Christianity, even in those countries in which it is established under forms the most liable to difficulty and objection. It will also have the further effect of guarding us against the prejudices which are wont to arise in our minds to the disadvantage of religion, from observing the numerous controversies which are carried on amongst its professors; and likewise of inducing a spirit of lenity and moderation in our judgment, as well as in our treatment of those who stand, in such controversies, upon sides opposite to ours. What is clear in Christianity we shall find to be sufficient, and to be infinitely valuable; what is dubious, unnecessary to be decided, or of very subordinate importance, and what is most obscure, will teach us to bear with the opinions which others may have formed upon the same subject. We shall say to those who the most widely dissent from us, what Augustine said to the worst heretics of his age; "Illi in vos saeviant, qui nasciunt, cum quo labore verum inveniatur, et quam difficile caveantur errores;---qui nesciunt, cure quanta difficultate sanetur oculus interioris hominis;--qui nesciunt, quibus suspiriis et gemitibus fiat ut ex quantulacumque parte possit intelligi Deus.". (Aug. contra. Ep. Fund. Cap. ii. n. 2,3.) A judgment, moreover, which is once pretty well satisfied of the general truth of the religion will not only thus discriminate in its doctrines, but will possess sufficient strength to overcome the reluctance of the imagination to admit articles of faith which are attended with difficulty of apprehension, if such articles of faith appear to be truly parts of the revelation. It was to be expected beforehand, that what related to the economy and to the persons of the invisible world, which revelation profess to do, and which, if true, it actually does, should contain some points remote from our analogies, and from the comprehension of a mind which hath acquired all its ideas from sense and from experience. It hath been my care in the preceding work to preserve the separation between evidences and doctrines as inviolable as I could; to remove from the primary question all considerations which have been unnecessarily joined with it; and to offer a defence to Christianity which every Christian might read without seeing the tenets in which he had been brought up attacked or decried: and it always afforded a satisfaction to my mind to observe that this was practicable; that few or none of our many controversies with one another affect or relate to the proofs of our religion; that the rent never descends to the foundation. The truth of Christianity depends upon its leading facts, and upon them alone. Now of these we have evidence which ought to satisfy us, at least until it appear that mankind have ever been deceived by the same. We have some uncontested and incontestable points, to which the history of the human species hath nothing similar to offer. A Jewish peasant changed the religion of the world, and that without force, without power, without support; without one natural source or circumstance of attraction, influence, or success. Such a thing hath not happened in any other instance. The companions of this Person, after he himself had been put to death for his attempt, asserted his supernatural character, founded upon his supernatural operations: and, in testimony of the truth of their assertions, i.e. in consequence of their own belief of that truth, and in order to communicate the knowledge of it to others, voluntarily entered upon lives of toil and hardship, and, with a full experience of their danger, committed themselves to the last extremities of persecution. This hath not a parallel. More particularly, a very few days after this Person had been publicly executed, and in the very city in which he was buried, these his companions declared with one voice that his body was restored to life: that they had seen him, handled him, ate with him, conversed with him; and, in pursuance of their persuasion of the truth of what they told, preached his religion, with this strange fact as the foundation of it, in the face of those who had killed him, who were armed with the power of the country, and necessarily and naturally disposed to treat his followers as they had treated himself; and having done this upon the spot where the event took place, carried the intelligence of it abroad, in despite of difficulties and opposition, and where the nature of their errand gave them nothing to expect but derision, insult, and outrage.--This is without example. These three facts, I think, are certain, and would have been nearly so, if the Gospels had never been written. The Christian story, as to these points, hath never varied. No other hath been set up against it. Every letter, every discourse, every controversy, amongst the followers of the religion; every book written by them from the age of its commencement to the present time, in every part of the world in which it hath been professed, and with every sect into which it hath been divided (and we have letters and discourses written by contemporaries, by witnesses of the transaction, by persons themselves bearing a share in it, and other writings following that again regular succession), concur in representing these facts in this manner. A religion which now possesses the greatest part of the civilised world unquestionably sprang up at Jerusalem at this time. Some account must be given of its origin; some cause assigned for its rise. All the accounts of this origin, all the explications of this cause, whether taken from the writings of the early followers of the religion (in which, and in which perhaps alone, it could he expected that they should he distinctly unfolded), or from occasional notices in other writings of that or the adjoining age, either expressly allege the facts above stated as the means by which the religion was set up, or advert to its commencement in a manner which agrees with the supposition of these facts being true, and which testifies their operation and effects. These prepositions alone lay a foundation for our faith; for they prove the existence of a transaction which cannot even, in its most general parts, be accounted for upon any reasonable supposition, except that of the truth of the mission. But the particulars, the detail of the miracles or miraculous pretences (for such there necessarily must have been) upon which this unexampled transaction rested, and for which these men acted and suffered as they did act and suffer, it is undoubtedly of great importance to us to know. We have this detail from the fountain-head, from the persons themselves; in accounts written by eye-witnesses of the scene, by contemporaries and companions of those who were so; not in one book but four, each containing enough for the verification of the religion, all agreeing in the fundamental parts of the history. We have the authenticity of these books established by more and stronger proofs than belong to almost any other ancient book whatever, and by proofs which widely distinguish them from any others claiming a similar authority to theirs. If there were any good reason for doubt concerning the names to which these books are ascribed (which there is not, for they were never ascribed to any other, and we have evidence not long after their publication of their bearing the names which they now bear); their antiquity, of which there is no question, their reputation and authority amongst the early disciples of the religion, of which there is as little, form a valid proof that they must, in the main at least, have agreed with what the first teachers of the religion delivered. When we open these ancient volumes, we discover in them marks of truth, whether we consider each in itself, or collate them with one another. The writers certainly knew something of what they were writing about, for they manifest an acquaintance with local circumstances, with the history and usages of the times, which could belong only to an inhabitant of that country, living in that age. In every narrative we perceive simplicity and undesignedness; the air and the language of reality. When we compare the different narratives together, we find them so varying as to repel all suspicion of confederacy; so agreeing under this variety as to show that the accounts had one real transaction for their common foundation; often attributing different actions and discourses to the Person whose history, or rather memoirs of whose history, they profess to relate, yet actions and discourses so similar as very much to bespeak the same character: which is a coincidence that, in such writers as they were, could only be the consequence of their writing from fact, and not from imagination. These four narratives are confined to the history of the Founder of the religion, and end with his ministry. Since, however, it is certain that the affair went on, we cannot help being anxious to know how it proceeded. This intelligence hath come down to us in a work purporting to be written by a person, himself connected with the business during the first stages of its progress, taking up the story where the former histories had left it, carrying on the narrative, oftentimes with great particularity, and throughout with the appearance of good sense,* information and candour; stating all along the origin, and the only probable origin, of effects which unquestionably were produced, together with the natural consequences of situations which unquestionably did exist; and confirmed, in the substance at least of the account, by the strongest possible accession of testimony which a history can receive, original letters, written by the person who is the principal subject of the history, written upon the business to which the history relates, and during the period, or soon after the period, which the history comprises. No man can say that this all together is not a body of strong historical evidence. _________ * See Peter's speech upon curing the cripple (Acts iii. 18), the council of the apostles (xv.), Paul's discourse at Athens (xvii. 22), before Agrippa (xxvi.). I notice these passages, both as fraught with good sense and as free from the smallest tincture of enthusiasm. _________ When we reflect that some of those from whom the books proceeded are related to have themselves wrought miracles, to have been the subject of miracles, or of supernatural assistance in propagating the religion, we may perhaps be led to think that more credit, or a different kind of credit, is due to these accounts, than what can be claimed by merely human testimony. But this is an argument which cannot be addressed to sceptics or unbelievers. A man must be a Christian before he can receive it. The inspiration of the historical Scriptures, the nature, degree, and extent of that inspiration, are questions undoubtedly of serious discussion; but they are questions amongst Christians themselves, and not between them and others. The doctrine itself is by no means necessary to the belief of Christianity, which must, in the first instance at least, depend upon the ordinary maxim of historical credibility. (See Powell's Discourse, disc. xv. P. 245.) In viewing the detail of miracles recorded in these books, we find every supposition negatived by which they can be resolved into fraud or delusion. They were not secret, nor momentary, nor tentative, nor ambiguous; nor performed under the sanction of authority, with the spectators on their side, or in affirmance of tenets and practices already established. We find also the evidence alleged for them, and which evidence was by great numbers received, different from that upon which other miraculous accounts rest. It was contemporary, it was published upon the spot, it continued; it involved interests and questions of the greatest magnitude; it contradicted the most fixed persuasions and prejudices of the persons to whom it was addressed; it required from those who accepted it, not a simple, indolent assent, but a change, from thenceforward, of principles and conduct, a submission to consequences the most serious and the most deterring, to loss and danger, to insult, outrage, and persecution. How such a story should be false, or, if false, how under such circumstances it should make its way, I think impossible to be explained; yet such the Christian story was, such were the circumstances under which it came forth, and in opposition to such difficulties did it prevail. An event so connected with the religion, and with the fortunes, of the Jewish people, as one of their race, one born amongst them, establishing his authority and his law throughout a great portion of the civilised world, it was perhaps to be expected should be noticed in the prophetic writings of that nation; especially when this Person, together with his own mission, caused also to be acknowledged the Divine original of their institution, and by those who before had altogether rejected it. Accordingly, we perceive in these writings various intimations concurring in the person and history of Jesus, in a manner and in a degree in which passages taken from these books could not be made to concur in any person arbitrarily assumed, or in any person except him who has been the author of great changes in the affairs and opinions of mankind. Of some of these predictions the weight depends a good deal upon the concurrence. Others possess great separate strength: one in particular does this in an eminent degree. It is an entire description, manifestly directed to one character and to one scene of things; it is extant in a writing, or collection of writings, declaredly prophetic; and it applies to Christ's character, and to the circumstances of his life and death, with considerable precision, and in a way which no diversity of interpretation hath, in my opinion, been able to confound. That the advent of Christ, and the consequences of it, should not have been more distinctly revealed in the Jewish sacred books, is I think in some measure accounted for by the consideration, that for the Jews to have foreseen the fall of their institution, and that it was to merge at length into a more perfect and comprehensive dispensation, would have cooled too much, and relaxed, their zeal for it, and their adherence to it, upon which zeal and adherence the preservation in the world of any remains, for many ages, of religious truth might in a great measure depend. Of what a revelation discloses to mankind, one, and only one, question can properly be asked--Was it of importance to mankind to know, or to be better assured of? In this question, when we turn our thoughts to the great Christian doctrine of the resurrection of the dead, and of a future judgment, no doubt can possibly be entertained. He who gives me riches or honours, does nothing; he who even gives me health, does little, in comparison with that which lays before me just grounds for expecting a restoration to life, and a day of account and retribution; which thing Christianity hath done for millions. Other articles of the Christian faith, although of infinite importance when placed beside any other topic of human inquiry, are only the adjuncts and circumstances of this. They are, however, such as appear worthy of the original to which we ascribe them. The morality of the religion, whether taken from the precepts or the example of its Founder, or from the lessons of its primitive teachers, derived, as it should seem, from what had been inculcated by their Master, is, in all its parts, wise and pure; neither adapted to vulgar prejudices, nor flattering popular notions, nor excusing established practices, but calculated, in the matter of its instruction, truly to promote human happiness; and in the form in which it was conveyed, to produce impression and effect: a morality which, let it have proceeded from any person whatever, would have been satisfactory evidence of his good sense and integrity, of the soundness of his understanding and the probity of his designs: a morality, in every view of it, much more perfect than could have been expected from the natural circumstances and character of the person who delivered it; a morality, in a word, which is, and hath been, most beneficial to mankind. Upon the greatest, therefore, of all possible occasions, and for a purpose of inestimable value, it pleased the Deity to vouchsafe a miraculous attestation. Having done this for the institution, when this alone could fix its authority, or give to it a beginning, he committed its future progress to the natural means of human communication, and to the influence of those causes by which human conduct and human affairs are governed. The seed, being sown, was left to vegetate; the leaven, being inserted, was left to ferment; and both according to the laws of nature: laws, nevertheless, disposed and controlled by that Providence which conducts the affairs of the universe, though by an influence inscrutable, and generally undistinguishable by us. And in this, Christianity is analogous to most other provisions for happiness. The provision is made; and; being made, is left to act according to laws which, forming a part of a more general system, regulate this particular subject in common with many others. Let the constant recurrence to our observation of contrivance, design, and wisdom, in the works of nature, once fix upon our minds the belief of a God, and after that all is easy. In the counsels of a being possessed of the power and disposition which the Creator of the universe must possess, it is not improbable that there should be a future state; it is not improbable that we should be acquainted with it. A future state rectifies everything; because, if moral agents be made, in the last event, happy or miserable, according to their conduct in the station and under the circumstances in which they are placed, it seems not very material by the operation of what causes, according to what rules, or even, if you please to call it so, by what chance or caprice these stations are assigned, or these circumstances determined. This hypothesis, therefore, solves all that objection to the divine care and goodness which the promiscuous distribution of good and evil (I do not mean in the doubtful advantages of riches and grandeur, but in the unquestionably important distinctions of health and sickness, strength and infirmity, bodily ease and pain, mental alacrity and depression) is apt on so many occasions to create. This one truth changes the nature of things; gives order to confusion; makes the moral world of a piece with the natural. Nevertheless, a higher degree of assurance than that to which it is possible to advance this, or any argument drawn from the light of nature, was necessary, especially to overcome the shock which the imagination and the senses received from the effects and the appearances of death, and the obstruction which thence arises to the expectation of either a continued or a future existence. This difficulty, although of a nature no doubt to act very forcibly, will be found, I think, upon reflection to reside more in our habits of apprehension than in the subject: and that the giving way to it, when we have any reasonable grounds or the contrary, is rather an indulging of the imagination than anything else. Abstractedly considered, that is, considered without relation to the difference which habit, and merely habit, produces in our faculties and modes of apprehension, I do not see anything more in the resurrection of a dead man than in the conception of a child; except it be this, that the one comes into his world with a system of prior consciousness about him, which the other does not: and no person will say that he knows enough of either subject to perceive that this circumstance makes such a difference in the two cases that the one should be easy, and the other impossible; the one natural, the other not so. To the first man the succession of the species would be as incomprehensible as the resurrection of the dead is to us. Thought is different from motion, perception from impact: the individuality of a mind is hardly consistent with the divisibility of an extended substance; or its volition, that is, its power of originating motion, with the inertness which cleaves to every portion of matter which our observation or our experiments can reach. These distinctions lead us to an immaterial principle: at least, they do this: they so negative the mechanical properties of matter, in the constitution of a sentient, still more of a rational, being, that no argument drawn from the properties can be of any great weight in opposition to other reasons, when the question respects the changes of which such: a nature is capable, or the manner in which these changes am effected. Whatever thought be, or whatever it depend upon the regular experience of sleep makes one thing concerning it certain, that it can be completely suspended, and completely restored. If any one find it too great a strain upon his thoughts to admit the notion of a substance strictly immaterial, that is, from which extension and solidity are excluded, he can find no difficulty in allowing, that a particle as small as a particle of light, minuter than all conceivable dimensions, may just as easily be the depositary, the organ, and the vehicle of consciousness as the congeries of animal substance which forms a human body, or the human brain; that, being so, it may transfer a proper identity to whatever shall hereafter be united to it; may be safe amidst the destruction of its integuments; may connect the natural with the spiritual, the corruptible with the glorified body. If it be said that the mode and means of all this is imperceptible by our senses, it is only what is true of the most important agencies and operations. The great powers of nature are all invisible. Gravitation, electricity, magnetism, though constantly present, and constantly exerting their influence; though within us, near us, and about us; though diffused throughout all space, overspreading the surface, or penetrating the contexture, of all bodies with which we are acquainted, depend upon substances and actions which are totally concealed from our senses. The Supreme Intelligence is so himself. But whether these or any other attempts to satisfy the imagination bear any resemblance to the truth; or whether the imagination, which, as I have said before, is the mere slave of habit, can be satisfied or not; when a future state, and the revelation of a future state is not only perfectly consistent with the attributes of the Being who governs the universe; but when it is more; when it alone removes the appearance of contrariety which attends the operations of his will towards creatures capable of comparative merit and demerit, of reward and punishment; when a strong body of historical evidence, confirmed by many internal tokens of truth and authenticity, gives us just reason to believe that such a revelation hath actually been made; we ought to set our minds at rest with the assurance, that in the resources of Creative Wisdom expedients cannot be wanted to carry into effect what the Deity hath purposed: that either a new and mighty influence will descend upon the human world to resuscitate extinguished consciousness; or that, amidst the other wonderful contrivances with which the universe abounds, and by some of which we see animal life, in many instances, assuming improved forms of existence, acquiring new organs, new perceptions, and new sources of enjoyment, provision is also made, though by methods secret to us (as all the great processes of nature are), for conducting the objects of God's moral government, through the necessary changes of their frame, to those final distinctions of happiness and misery which he hath declared to be reserved for obedience and transgression, for virtue and vice, for the use and the neglect, the right and the wrong employment of the faculties and opportunities with which he hath been pleased, severally, to intrust and to try us. 
16184	----	=His Life= A COMPLETE STORY IN THE WORDS OF THE FOUR GOSPELS PREPARED BY WILLIAM E. BARTON, THEODORE G. SOARES SYDNEY STRONG USING THE TEXT OF THE AMERICAN STANDARD REVISED BIBLE HOPE PUBLISHING COMPANY 150 MICHIGAN AVENUE CHICAGO 27 EAST 22ND STREET NEW YORK. HIS LIFE THE STORY OF JESUS IN THE WORDS OF THE FOUR GOSPELS Paper covers, single copy 15 cents. 10 copies 12-1/2 cents. 25 to 250 copies 10 cents, postage prepaid. Cloth covers, single copy 25 cents. 10 to 24 copies 22-1/2 cents, postage prepaid. 25 to 250 copies or more, by express, not prepaid, $20.00 per 100 net. Presentation Edition De Luxe, on heavier paper in full leather binding, with gilt edges and title stamp in gold leaf, 70 cents, net; postpaid, 75 cents. HIS FRIENDS THE STORY OF THE IMMEDIATE DISCIPLES OF JESUS AFTER HIS ASCENSION; AND THEIR LETTERS Styles and prices uniform with "His Life." HIS GREAT APOSTLE THE LIFE AND LETTERS OF PAUL IN THE WORDS OF SCRIPTURE AND IN CHRONOLOGICAL ORDER Styles and prices uniform with "His Life." HIS LAST WEEK THE GOSPEL STORY OF THE PASSION AND RESURRECTION OF JESUS Paper covers, single copy 7 cents. 10 to 49 copies 6 cents. 50 to 500 copies 5 cents, postage prepaid. HOPE PUBLISHING COMPANY CHICAGO AND NEW YORK Copyright, 1906, by the Pastors' Publishing Union. The Text of the American Standard Revised Bible, copyright 1901, by Thomas Nelson & Sons, is used by special arrangement and with their permission. PREFACE. The four Gospels, each telling in its own way the story of the Life of Jesus, are the rich heritage of Christians. No one of the Gospels could be spared. But in reading any one of the four we miss some of the familiar words and incidents we love. Almost from the days of the Apostles there have been attempts to unite the Gospels in a single narrative. The first of these efforts, so far as we know, was undertaken by the devout scholar Tatian, soon after 173 A.D. His book served a useful purpose in his own and later generations, and is now a valuable witness to the antiquity and early acceptance of our four Gospels. There have been many harmonies of the Gospel from the second century to the present; and they are all but indispensable to the scholar. Almost every minister keeps one at his elbow. But these, for the most part, are made for purposes of scholarly comparison, and not for general reading. Moreover, they are expensive. The editors of this little book have undertaken to prepare an interwoven story of the Life of Jesus from the four Gospels for popular reading. A booklet that may be carried in the pocket, and may be sold, in paper binding, for ten cents, has been their ambition. They have been led to this undertaking by the large demand for copies of their booklet, "HIS LAST WEEK," which comprises the last third of this volume, whose use at Easter time has brought them many requests for the complete Gospel story, interwoven in the same manner. The work of preparation has been done by three ministers of Oak Park, in suburban Chicago, who have shared equally the labor, but the undertaking has the support and co-operation of the entire group of fifteen local pastors, representing six different denominations. To this larger group of brethren is due a grateful acknowledgment of sympathy and assistance. The book has at least the value of an illustration in practical interdenominational co-operation. In the spirit of this fine fellowship it is commended to Christians of every name. THE EDITORS =His Life= =I. His Birth and Boyhood= 1. THE DIVINE ANNOUNCINGS The Word made Flesh. 13 The Promised Birth of John the Baptist. 14 The Angel's Visit to Mary. 15 Mary's Visit to Her Cousin. 16 Mary's Song. 17 The Birth of John the Baptist. 17 The Song of Zacharias. 18 2. THE BIRTH AND INFANCY OF JESUS Joseph and Mary. 20 The Birth of Jesus. 20 The Angels and the Shepherds. 21 The Circumcision. 22 The Presentation in the Temple. 22 The Visit of the Wise Men. 23 The Flight into Egypt. 24 3. THE LIFE IN NAZARETH The Return to Nazareth. 26 The Boyhood Visit to Jerusalem. 26 The Eighteen Silent Years. 27 =II. The Beginnings of His Ministry= 1. JESUS AND JOHN THE BAPTIST The Voice in the Wilderness. 28 The Baptism of Jesus. 30 The Temptation in the Wilderness. 30 John's Testimony to Jesus. 31 2. THE BEGINNINGS OF FAITH The First Disciples by the Jordan. 33 The First Miracle. 34 3. JESUS IN JERUSALEM. Cleansing His Father's House. 36 The Visit of Nicodemus. 36 4. PREPARATORY PREACHING Jesus Baptizing and Preaching. 39 John's Tribute to Jesus. 39 At Jacob's Well. 40 Preaching to the Samaritans. 41 =III. His Year of Popularity= 1. JESUS IN GALILEE John the Baptist Imprisoned. 43 Reception of Jesus by the Galilæans. 43 Healing the Nobleman's Son. 43 The Recall of the Fishermen. 44 A Day of Good Deeds in Capernaum. 45 The First Leper Healed. 47 2. BEGINNINGS OF CONTROVERSY The Healing of a Paralytic. 48 The Publican Disciple. 49 The Old and the New. 49 A Sabbath Healing in Jerusalem. 50 Plucking Grain on the Sabbath. 53 3. MANY CALLED AND FEW CHOSEN A Multitude of Disciples. 54 The Selection of the Twelve. 55 4. THE TEACHING OF THE KINGDOM The Citizens of the Kingdom. 56 The Righteousness of the Kingdom. 57 The Danger of Hypocrisy. 59 Simple Trust in God. 61 Charitable Judgment. 62 Prayer. 63 Sincerity. 64 5. A TOUR IN GALILEE The Worthy Centurion. 66 Raising the Widow's Son. 67 A Question from John the Baptist. 67 Jesus' Estimate of John the Baptist. 68 The Death of John the Baptist. 69 Forgiveness of the Repentant Woman. 70 The Ministering Women. 71 6. GROWING POPULARITY AND RISING OPPOSITION The Concern of Jesus' Friends. 72 Warning of Eternal Sin. 72 The Demand for a Sign. 74 7. THE PARABLES OF THE KINGDOM The Sower. 75 The Tares. 77 The Growing Grain. 77 The Mustard Seed. 77 The Leaven. 78 The Understanding of Parables. 78 The Hid Treasure. 79 The Pearl of Great Price. 79 The Drag Net. 79 8. A DAY OF MIRACLES BY THE LAKE Jesus Stills the Storm. 80 The Legion of Demons. 80 The Dying Child and the Suffering Woman. 82 Healings by the Way. 84 9. WIDER EVANGELIZATION OF GALILEE A Visit to His Home. 85 Preaching in the Villages. 86 The Twelve Sent Forth. 87 10. THE CRISIS IN CAPERNAUM The Five Thousand Fed. 91 Jesus Walking on the Water. 92 The Disappointment of the People. 93 Rejection of the Tradition of the Elders. 97 The Plot of the Pharisees. 99 =IV. His Withdrawal with the Twelve= 1. THE MINISTRY BEYOND GALILEE The Phoenician Retirement and the Gentile Cure. 100 Miracles and Multitudes Again. 101 The Four Thousand Fed. 101 The Pharisees and Sadducees Demand a Sign. 102 The Blind Man Healed. 103 2. JESUS THE MESSIAH Peter's Confession. 105 The Passion and Resurrection Foretold. 105 The Transfiguration. 106 The Epileptic Boy. 108 3. THE TRAINING OF THE TWELVE The Passion and Resurrection Again Foretold. 110 The Greatest Disciple. 110 Forgiveness. 112 The Shekel for the Temple. 113 =V. His Face Toward Jerusalem= 1. THE FINAL DEPARTURE FROM GALILEE The Beginning of the End. 114 The Grateful Samaritan Leper. 114 New Disciples. 115 2. IN JERUSALEM--THE ATTEMPT TO STONE HIM Jesus at the Feast of Tabernacles. 116 Jesus and the Accused Woman. 118 The Light of the World. 119 The Freedom of the Soul. 121 3. THE MINISTRY IN PEREA The Mission of the Seventy. 123 The Return of the Seventy. 124 The Meek and Lowly. 124 The Unrepentant Cities. 125 The Good Samaritan. 125 4. IN JERUSALEM--THE ATTEMPT TO ARREST HIM The Friends at Bethany. 127 A Miracle in Jerusalem. 127 The Good Shepherd. 130 Jesus at the Feast of Dedication. 131 5. RENEWED MINISTRY IN PEREA Jesus and the Pharisees. 133 Warning Against Covetousness. 134 The Fall of the Tower. 134 The Uses of the Sabbath. 135 A Question of Salvation. 136 A Message to Herod. 136 The Ox in the Pit. 137 The Chief Places at the Feast. 137 The Slighted Invitation. 138 Counting the Cost. 139 The Ninety and Nine. 139 The Lost Coin. 140 The Prodigal Son. 140 The Unjust Steward. 142 A Parable to the Lovers of Money. 143 "Increase Our Faith." 144 6. NEAR JERUSALEM--THE PLOT TO KILL HIM The Raising of Lazarus. 145 The Decision of the Council. 148 7. HIS WITHDRAWAL TO EPHRAIM The Coming of the Kingdom. 149 The Unjust Judge. 149 The Pharisee and the Publican. 150 Concerning Divorce. 150 Jesus and the Children. 151 The Rich Young Ruler. 151 The Parable of the Vineyard. 153 8. THE LAST JOURNEY TO JERUSALEM The Shadow of the Cross. 155 The Sons of Thunder. 155 The Blind Man of Jericho. 156 The Visit to Zacchæus. 157 The Parable of the Pounds. 157 Going up to Jerusalem. 159 The Feast at Bethany. 159 =VI. His Last Week= 1. PALM SUNDAY--THE DAY OF TRIUMPH The Triumphal Entry. 161 2. MONDAY--THE DAY OF AUTHORITY The Cursing of the Fig Tree. 163 The Cleansing of the Temple. 163 3. TUESDAY--THE DAY OF CONTROVERSY The Lesson from the Withered Fig Tree. 164 The Challenge of Christ's Authority. 164 Three Warning Parables. 165 (a) the two sons. 165 (b) the wicked husbandmen. 165 (c) the marriage of the king's son. 167 Three Hostile Questions asked of Jesus. 167 (a) tribute to Cæsar. 167 (b) the question of the resurrection. 168 (c) the greatest commandment. 169 The Unanswerable Question of Jesus. 170 Discourse of Jesus Against the Scribes and Pharisees. 170 The Widow's Two Mites. 173 The Gentiles Seek Jesus. 173 The Jews Reject Jesus. 174 Discourse Concerning the Future. 175 Three Lessons to the Disciples. 179 (a) the parable of the ten virgins. 179 (b) the parable of the talents. 180 (c) the judgment scene. 181 The Conspiracy Against Jesus. 183 4. WEDNESDAY--THE DAY OF RETIREMENT 184 5. THURSDAY--THE DAY OF FELLOWSHIP Preparation for the Passover. 185 Strife among the Disciples. 185 Jesus Washing the Disciples' Feet. 186 The Betrayer Pointed Out. 187 The Lord's Supper. 188 The Farewell Conversation. 189 The Intercessory Prayer. 196 6. FRIDAY--THE DAY OF SUFFERING The Agony in Gethsemane. 199 The Betrayal and Arrest. 200 The Trial before the Jewish Authorities. 201 The Denial of Peter. 203 The Remorse of Judas. 204 The Trial before Pilate. 205 Jesus before Herod. 206 The Trial before Pilate Resumed. 207 The Sorrowful Way. 210 The Crucifixion. 210 The Burial. 214 7. SATURDAY--THE DAY OF SILENCE AND SORROW The Watch at the Tomb. 215 =VII. His Resurrection= 1. SUNDAY--THE DAY OF RESURRECTION The Earthquake. 216 The Empty Tomb. 216 The Appearance to Mary. 217 The Appearance to the Women. 217 Report of the Watch. 218 The Appearance at Emmaus. 218 The Appearance to the Disciples. 220 2. AFTER THE RESURRECTION DAY The Appearance to the Disciples and to Thomas. 222 The Appearance to the Seven by the Sea. 222 The Appearance to the Eleven on the Mountain. 225 The Last Appearance and Ascension. 225 =His Life= * * * * * =HIS BIRTH AND BOYHOOD= * * * * * THE DIVINE ANNOUNCINGS THE WORD MADE FLESH. In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. The same was in the beginning with God. All things were made through him; and without him was not anything made that hath been made. In him was life; and the life was the light of men. And the light shineth in the darkness; and the darkness apprehended it not. There came a man, sent from God, whose name was John. The same came for witness, that he might bear witness of the light, that all might believe through him. He was not the light, but came that he might bear witness of the light. There was the true light, even the light which lighteth every man, coming into the world. He was in the world, and the world was made through him, and the world knew him not. He came unto his own, and they that were his own received him not. But as many as received him, to them gave he the right to become children of God, even to them that believe on his name: who were born, not of blood, nor of the will of the flesh, nor of the will of man, but of God. And the Word became flesh, and dwelt among us (and we beheld his glory, glory as of the only begotten from the Father), full of grace and truth. John beareth witness of him, and crieth, saying, "This was he of whom I said, He that cometh after me is become before me: for he was before me." For of his fulness we all received, and grace for grace. For the law was given through Moses; grace and truth came through Jesus Christ. No man hath seen God at any time; the only begotten Son, who is in the bosom of the Father, he hath declared him. THE PROMISED BIRTH OF JOHN THE BAPTIST. There was in the days of Herod, king of Judæa, a certain priest named Zacharias, of the course of Abijah: and he had a wife of the daughters of Aaron, and her name was Elisabeth. And they were both righteous before God, walking in all the commandments and ordinances of the Lord blameless. And they had no child, because that Elisabeth was barren, and they both were now well stricken in years. Now it came to pass, while he executed the priest's office before God in the order of his course, according to the custom of the priest's office, his lot was to enter into the temple of the Lord and burn incense. And the whole multitude of the people were praying without at the hour of incense. And there appeared unto him an angel of the Lord standing on the right side of the altar of incense. And Zacharias was troubled when he saw him, and fear fell upon him. But the angel said unto him, "Fear not, Zacharias: because thy supplication is heard, and thy wife Elisabeth shall bear thee a son, and thou shalt call his name John. And thou shalt have joy and gladness; and many shall rejoice at his birth. For he shall be great in the sight of the Lord, and he shall drink no wine nor strong drink; and he shall be filled with the Holy Spirit, even from his mother's womb. And many of the children of Israel shall he turn unto the Lord their God. And he shall go before his face in the spirit and power of Elijah, to turn the hearts of the fathers to the children, and the disobedient to walk in the wisdom of the just; to make ready for the Lord a people prepared for him." And Zacharias said unto the angel, "Whereby shall I know this? for I am an old man, and my wife well stricken in years." And the angel answering said unto him, "I am Gabriel, that stand in the presence of God; and I was sent to speak unto thee, and to bring thee these good tidings. And behold, thou shalt be silent and not able to speak, until the day that these things shall come to pass, because thou believedst not my words, which shall be fulfilled in their season." And the people were waiting for Zacharias, and they marvelled while he tarried in the temple. And when he came out, he could not speak unto them: and they perceived that he had seen a vision in the temple: and he continued making signs unto them, and remained dumb. And it came to pass, when the days of his ministration were fulfilled, he departed unto his house. And after these days Elisabeth his wife conceived; and she hid herself five months, saying, "Thus hath the Lord done unto me in the days wherein he looked upon me, to take away my reproach among men." THE ANGEL'S VISIT TO MARY. Now in the sixth month the angel Gabriel was sent from God unto a city of Galilee, named Nazareth, to a virgin betrothed to a man whose name was Joseph, of the house of David; and the virgin's name was Mary. And he came in unto her, and said, "Hail, thou that art highly favored, the Lord is with thee." But she was greatly troubled at the saying, and cast in her mind what manner of salutation this might be. And the angel said unto her, "Fear not, Mary: for thou hast found favor with God And behold, thou shalt conceive in thy womb, and bring forth a son, and shalt call his name JESUS. He shall be great, and shall be called the Son of the Most High: and the Lord God shall give unto him the throne of his father David: and he shall reign over the house of Jacob forever; and of his kingdom there shall be no end." And Mary said unto the angel, "How shall this be, seeing I know not a man?" And the angel answered and said unto her, "The Holy Spirit shall come upon thee, and the power of the Most High shall overshadow thee: wherefore also the holy thing which is begotten shall be called the Son of God. And behold, Elisabeth thy kinswoman, she also hath conceived a son in her old age; and this is the sixth month with her that was called barren. For no word from God shall be void of power." And Mary said, "Behold, the handmaid of the Lord; be it unto me according to thy word" And the angel departed from her. MARY'S VISIT TO HER COUSIN. And Mary arose in these days and went into the hill country with haste, into a city of Judah; and entered into the house of Zacharias and saluted Elisabeth. And it came to pass, when Elisabeth heard the salutation of Mary, the babe leaped in her womb; and Elisabeth was filled with the Holy Spirit; and she lifted up her voice with a loud cry, and said, "Blessed art thou among women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb. And whence is this to me, that the mother of my Lord should come unto me? For behold, when the voice of thy salutation came into mine ears, the babe leaped in my womb for joy. And blessed is she that believed; for there shall be a fulfilment of the things which have been spoken to her from the Lord." MARY'S SONG. And Mary said, "My soul doth magnify the Lord. And my spirit hath rejoiced in God my Saviour. For he hath looked upon the low estate of his handmaid: For behold, from henceforth all generations shall call me blessed. For he that is mighty hath done to me great things; And holy is his name. And his mercy is unto generations and generations On them that fear him. He hath showed strength with his arm: He hath scattered the proud in the imagination of their heart. He hath put down princes from their thrones, And hath exalted them of low degree. The hungry he hath filled with good things; And the rich he hath sent empty away. He hath given help to Israel his servant, That he might remember mercy (As he spake unto our fathers) Toward Abraham and his seed for ever." And Mary abode with her about three months, and returned unto her house. THE BIRTH OF JOHN THE BAPTIST. Now Elisabeth's time was fulfilled that she should be delivered; and she brought forth a son. And her neighbors and her kinsfolk heard that the Lord had magnified his mercy towards her; and they rejoiced with her. And it came to pass on the eighth day, that they came to circumcise the child; and they would have called him Zacharias, after the name of his father. And his mother answered and said, "Not so; but he shall be called John." And they said unto her, "There is none of thy kindred that is called by this name." And they made signs to his father, what he would have him called. And he asked for a writing tablet, and wrote, saying, "His name is John." And they marvelled all. And his mouth was opened immediately, and his tongue loosed, and he spake, blessing God. And fear came on all that dwelt round about them: and all these sayings were noised abroad throughout all the hill country of Judæa. And all that heard them laid them up in their heart, saying, "What then shall this child be?" For the hand of the Lord was with him. THE SONG OF ZACHARIAS. And his father Zacharias was filled with the Holy Spirit, and prophesied, saying, "Blessed be the Lord the God of Israel; For he hath visited and wrought redemption for his people, And hath raised up a horn of salvation for us In the house of his servant David (As he spake by the mouth of his holy prophets that have been from of old), Salvation from our enemies and from the hand of all that hate us; To show mercy towards our fathers. And to remember his holy covenant; The oath which he sware unto Abraham our father, To grant unto us that we being delivered out of the hand of our enemies Should serve him without fear, In holiness and righteousness before him all our days. Yea and thou, child, shalt be called the prophet of the Most High: For thou shalt go before the face of the Lord to make ready his ways; To give knowledge of salvation unto his people In the remission of their sins, Because of the tender mercy of our God, Whereby the dayspring from on high shall visit us, To shine upon them that sit in darkness and the shadow of death; To guide our feet into the way of peace." And the child grew, and waxed strong in spirit, and was in the deserts till the day of his showing unto Israel. THE BIRTH AND INFANCY OF JESUS JOSEPH AND MARY. Now the birth of Jesus Christ was on this wise: When his mother Mary had been betrothed to Joseph, before they came together she was found with child of the Holy Spirit. And Joseph her husband, being a righteous man, and not willing to make her a public example, was minded to put her away privily. But when he thought on these things, behold, an angel of the Lord appeared unto him in a dream, saying, "Joseph, thou son of David, fear not to take unto thee Mary thy wife: for that which is conceived in her is of the Holy Spirit. And she shall bring forth a son; and thou shalt call his name JESUS; for it is he that shall save his people from their sins." Now all this is come to pass, that it might be fulfilled which was spoken by the Lord through the prophet, saying, "Behold, the virgin shall be with child, and shall bring forth a son, And they shall call his name Immanuel;" which is, being interpreted, "God with us." And Joseph arose from his sleep, and did as the angel of the Lord commanded him, and took unto him his wife; and knew her not till she had brought forth a son. THE BIRTH OF JESUS. Now it came to pass in those days, there went out a decree from Cæsar Augustus, that all the world should be enrolled. This was the first enrolment made when Quirinius was governor of Syria. And all went to enrol themselves, every one to his own city. And Joseph also went up from Galilee, out of the city of Nazareth, into Judæa, to the city of David, which is called Bethlehem, because he was of the house and family of David; to enrol himself with Mary, who was betrothed to him, being great with child. And it came to pass, while they were there, the days were fulfilled that she should be delivered. And she brought forth her firstborn son; and she wrapped him in swaddling clothes, and laid him in a manger, because there was no room for them in the inn. THE ANGELS AND THE SHEPHERDS. And there were shepherds in the same country abiding in the field, and keeping watch by night over their flock. And an angel of the Lord stood by them, and the glory of the Lord shone round about them: and they were sore afraid. And the angel said unto them, "Be not afraid; for behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy which shall be to all the people: for there is born to you this day in the city of David a Saviour, who is Christ the Lord. And this is the sign unto you: Ye shall find a babe wrapped in swaddling clothes, and lying in a manger." And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God, and saying, "Glory to God in the highest, And on earth peace among men in whom he is well pleased." And it came to pass, when the angels went away from them into heaven, the shepherds said one to another, "Let us now go even unto Bethlehem, and see this thing that is come to pass, which the Lord hath made known unto us." And they came with haste, and found both Mary and Joseph, and the babe lying in the manger. And when they saw it, they made known concerning the saying which was spoken to them about this child. And all that heard it wondered at the things which were spoken unto them by the shepherds. But Mary kept all these sayings, pondering them in her heart. And the shepherds returned, glorifying and praising God for all the things that they had heard and seen, even as it was spoken unto them. THE CIRCUMCISION. And when eight days were fulfilled for circumcising him, his name was called JESUS, which was so called by the angel before he was conceived in the womb. THE PRESENTATION IN THE TEMPLE. And when the days of their purification according to the law of Moses were fulfilled, they brought him up to Jerusalem, to present him to the Lord (as it is written in the law of the Lord, Every male that openeth the womb shall be called holy to the Lord), and to offer a sacrifice according to that which is said in the law of the Lord, "A pair of turtledoves, or two young pigeons." And behold, there was a man in Jerusalem, whose name was Simeon: and this man was righteous and devout, looking for the consolation of Israel: and the Holy Spirit was upon him. And it had been revealed unto him by the Holy Spirit, that he should not see death, before he had seen the Lord's Christ. And he came in the Spirit into the temple: and when the parents brought in the child Jesus, that they might do concerning him after the custom of the law, then he received him into his arms, and blessed God, and said, "Now, lettest thou thy servant depart, Lord, According to thy word, in peace; For mine eyes have seen thy salvation, Which thou hast prepared before the face of all peoples; A light for revelation to the Gentiles, And the glory of thy people Israel." And his father and his mother were marvelling at the things which were spoken concerning him; and Simeon blessed them, and said unto Mary his mother, "Behold, this child is set for the falling and the rising of many in Israel; And for a sign which is spoken against; Yea and a sword shall pierce through thine own soul; That thoughts out of many hearts may be revealed." And there was one Anna, a prophetess, the daughter of Phanuel, of the tribe of Asher (she was of a great age, having lived with a husband seven years from her virginity, and she had been a widow even unto fourscore and four years), who departed not from the temple, worshipping with fastings and supplications night and day. And coming up at that very hour she gave thanks unto God, and spake of him to all them that were looking for the redemption of Jerusalem. THE VISIT OF THE WISE MEN. Now when Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judæa in the days of Herod the king, behold, Wise-men from the east came to Jerusalem, saying, "Where is he that is born King of the Jews? for we saw his star in the east, and are come to worship him." And when Herod the king heard it, he was troubled, and all Jerusalem with him. And gathering together all the chief priests and scribes of the people, he inquired of them where the Christ should be born. And they said unto him, "In Bethlehem of Judæa: for thus it is written through the prophet, "'And thou Bethlehem, land of Judah, Art in no wise least among the princes of Judah: For out of thee shall come forth a governor, Who shall be shepherd of my people Israel.'" Then Herod privily called the Wise-men, and learned of them exactly what time the star appeared. And he sent them to Bethlehem, and said, "Go and search out exactly concerning the young child; and when ye have found him, bring me word, that I also may come and worship him." And they, having heard the king, went their way; and lo, the star, which they saw in the east, went before them, till it came and stood over where the young child was. And when they saw the star, they rejoiced with exceeding great joy. And they came into the house and saw the young child with Mary his mother; and they fell down and worshipped him; and opening their treasures they offered unto him gifts, gold and frankincense and myrrh. And being warned of God in a dream that they should not return to Herod, they departed into their own country another way. THE FLIGHT INTO EGYPT. Now when they were departed, behold, an angel of the Lord appeareth to Joseph in a dream, saying, "Arise and take the young child and his mother, and flee into Egypt, and be thou there until I tell thee: for Herod will seek the young child to destroy him." He arose and took the young child and his mother by night, and departed into Egypt; and was there until the death of Herod: that it might be fulfilled which was spoken by the Lord through the prophet, saying, "Out of Egypt did I call my son." Then Herod, when he saw that he was mocked of the Wise-men, was exceeding wroth, and sent forth, and slew all the male children that were in Bethlehem, and in all the borders thereof, from two years old and under, according to the time which he had exactly learned of the Wise-men. Then was fulfilled that which was spoken through Jeremiah the prophet, saying, "A voice was heard in Ramah, Weeping and great mourning, Rachel weeping for her children; And she would not be comforted, because they are not." THE LIFE IN NAZARETH THE RETURN TO NAZARETH. But when Herod was dead, behold, an angel of the Lord appeareth in a dream to Joseph in Egypt, saying, "Arise and take the young child and his mother, and go into the land of Israel: for they are dead that sought the young child's life." And he arose and took the young child and his mother, and came into the land of Israel. But when he heard that Archelaus was reigning over Judæa in the room of his father Herod, he was afraid to go thither: and being warned of God in a dream, he withdrew into the parts of Galilee, and came and dwelt in their own city Nazareth; that it might be fulfilled which was spoken through the prophets, that he should be called a Nazarene. And the child grew, and waxed strong, filled with wisdom: and the grace of God was upon him. THE BOYHOOD VISIT TO JERUSALEM. And his parents went every year to Jerusalem at the feast of the passover. And when he was twelve years old, they went up after the custom of the feast; and when they had fulfilled the days, as they were returning, the boy Jesus tarried behind in Jerusalem; and his parents knew it not; but supposing him to be in the company, they went a day's journey: and they sought for him among their kinsfolk and acquaintance: and when they found him not, they returned to Jerusalem, seeking for him. And it came to pass, after three days they found him in the temple, sitting in the midst of the teachers, both hearing them, and asking them questions: and all that heard him were amazed at his understanding and his answers. And when they saw him, they were astonished; and his mother said unto him, "Son, why hast thou thus dealt with us? behold, thy father and I sought thee sorrowing." And he said unto them, "How is it that ye sought me? knew ye not that I must be in my Father's house?" And they understood not the saying which he spake unto them. THE EIGHTEEN SILENT YEARS. And he went down with them, and came to Nazareth; and he was subject unto them: and his mother kept all these sayings in her heart. And Jesus advanced in wisdom and stature, and in favor with God and men. =THE BEGINNINGS OF HIS MINISTRY= * * * * * JESUS AND JOHN THE BAPTIST THE VOICE IN THE WILDERNESS. Now in the fifteenth year of the reign of Tiberius Cæsar, Pontius Pilate being governor of Judæa, and Herod being tetrarch of Galilee, and his brother Philip tetrarch of the region of Ituræa and Trachonitis, and Lysanias tetrarch of Abilene, in the high-priesthood of Annas and Caiaphas, the word of God came unto John the son of Zacharias in the wilderness. And John was clothed with camel's hair, and had a leathern girdle about his loins, and did eat locusts and wild honey. And he came into all the region round about the Jordan, preaching the baptism of repentance unto remission of sins; and saying, "Repent ye; for the kingdom of heaven is at hand." For this is he that was spoken of by Isaiah the prophet, saying, "The voice of one crying in the wilderness, Make ye ready the way of the Lord, Make his paths straight. Every valley shall be filled, And every mountain and hill shall be brought low; And the crooked shall become straight, And the rough ways smooth; And all flesh shall see the salvation of God." And there went out to him all the country of Judæa, and all they of Jerusalem, and they were baptized of him in the river Jordan, confessing their sins. But when he saw many of the Pharisees and Sadducees coming to his baptism he said unto them, "Ye offspring of vipers, who warned you to flee from the wrath to come? Bring forth therefore fruits worthy of repentance, and begin not to say within yourselves, 'We have Abraham to our father': for I say unto you, that God is able of these stones to raise up children unto Abraham. And even now the axe also lieth at the root of the trees: every tree therefore that bringeth not forth good fruit is hewn down, and cast into the fire." And the multitudes asked him, saying, "What then must we do?" And he answered and said unto them, "He that hath two coats, let him impart to him that hath none; and he that hath food, let him do likewise." And there came also publicans to be baptized, and they said unto him, "Teacher, what must we do?" And he said unto them, "Extort no more than that which is appointed you." And soldiers also asked him, saying, "And we, what must we do?" And he said unto them, "Extort from no man by violence, neither accuse any one wrongfully; and be content with your wages." And as the people were in expectation, and all men reasoned in their hearts concerning John, whether haply he were the Christ; John answered, saying unto them all, "I indeed baptize you with water; but there cometh he that is mightier than I, the latchet of whose shoes I am not worthy to unloose: he shall baptize you in the Holy Spirit and in fire: whose fan is in his hand, thoroughly to cleanse his threshing-floor, and to gather the wheat into his garner; but the chaff he will burn up with unquenchable fire." With many other exhortations therefore preached he good tidings unto the people. THE BAPTISM OF JESUS. And it came to pass in those days, when all the people were baptized, that Jesus came from Nazareth of Galilee to the Jordan unto John, to be baptized of him. But John would have hindered him, saying, "I have need to be baptized of thee, and comest thou to me?" But Jesus answering said unto him, "Suffer it now: for thus it becometh us to fulfil all righteousness." Then he suffereth him. And Jesus, when he was baptized, went up straightway from the water; and lo, the heavens were opened unto him, and he saw the Spirit of God descending as a dove, and coming upon him; and lo, a voice out of the heavens, saying, "This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased." THE TEMPTATION IN THE WILDERNESS. Then straightway was Jesus led up of the Spirit into the wilderness to be tempted of the devil, and he was with the wild beasts, and did eat nothing in those days. And when he had fasted forty days and forty nights, he afterward hungered. And the tempter came and said unto him, "If thou art the Son of God, command that these stones become bread." But he answered and said, "It is written, 'Man shall not live by bread alone, but by every word that proceedeth out of the mouth of God.'" Then the devil taketh him into the holy city; and he set him on the pinnacle of the temple, and saith unto him, "If thou art the Son of God, cast thyself down: for it is written, "'He shall give his angels charge concerning thee, to guard thee.' and, "'On their hands they shall bear thee up, Lest haply thou dash thy foot against a stone.'" Jesus said unto him, "Again it is written, 'Thou shalt not make trial of the Lord thy God.'" Again, the devil taketh him unto an exceeding high mountain, and showeth him all the kingdoms of the world in a moment of time, and the glory of them. And the devil said unto him, "To thee will I give all this authority, and the glory of them: for it hath been delivered unto me; and to whomsoever I will I give it. If thou therefore wilt worship before me, it shall all be thine." Then saith Jesus unto him, "Get thee hence, Satan: for it is written. 'Thou shalt worship the Lord thy God, and him only shalt thou serve.'" And when the devil had completed every temptation, he departed from him for a season; and behold, angels came and ministered unto him. JOHN'S TESTIMONY TO JESUS. And this is the witness of John, when the Jews sent unto him from Jerusalem priests and Levites to ask him, "Who art thou?" And he confessed and denied not; and he confessed, "I am not the Christ." And they asked him, "What then? Art thou Elijah?" And he saith, "I am not." "Art thou the prophet?" And he answered "No." They said therefore unto him, "Who art thou? that we may give an answer to them that sent us? What sayest thou of thyself?" He said, "I am the voice of one crying in the wilderness, 'Make straight the way of the Lord,' as said Isaiah the prophet." And they had been sent from the Pharisees. And they asked him, and said unto him, "Why then baptizest thou, if thou art not the Christ, neither Elijah, neither the prophet." John answered them, saying, "I baptize in water: in the midst of you standeth one whom ye know not, even he that cometh after me, the latchet of whose shoe I am not worthy to unloose." These things were done in Bethany beyond the Jordan, where John was baptizing. On the morrow he seeth Jesus coming unto him, and saith, "Behold, the Lamb of God, that taketh away the sin of the world! This is he of whom I said, 'After me cometh a man who is become before me: for he was before me.' And I knew him not; but that he should be made manifest to Israel, for this cause came I baptizing in water." And John bare witness, saying, "I have beheld the Spirit descending as a dove out of heaven; and it abode upon him. And I knew him not: but he that sent me to baptize in water, he said unto me, 'Upon whomsoever thou shalt see the Spirit descending, and abiding upon him, the same is he that baptizeth in the Holy Spirit.' And I have seen, and have borne witness that this is the Son of God." THE BEGINNINGS OF FAITH THE FIRST DISCIPLES BY THE JORDAN. Again on the morrow John was standing, and two of his disciples; and he looked upon Jesus as he walked and saith, "Behold, the Lamb of God!" And the two disciples heard him speak, and they followed Jesus. And Jesus turned, and beheld them following, and saith unto them, "What seek ye?" And they said unto him, "Rabbi" (which is to say, being interpreted, Teacher), "where abidest thou?" He saith unto them, "Come, and ye shall see." They came therefore and saw where he abode; and they abode with him that day: it was about the tenth hour. One of the two that heard John speak, and followed him, was Andrew, Simon Peter's brother. He findeth first his own brother Simon, and saith unto him, "We have found the Messiah" (which is, being interpreted, Christ). He brought him unto Jesus. Jesus looked upon him, and said, "Thou art Simon the son of John: thou shalt be called Cephas" (which is by interpretation, Peter). On the morrow he was minded to go forth into Galilee, and he findeth Philip: and Jesus saith unto him, "Follow me." Now Philip was from Bethsaida, of the city of Andrew and Peter. Philip findeth Nathanael, and saith unto him, "We have found him, of whom Moses in the law and the prophets, wrote, Jesus of Nazareth, the son of Joseph." And Nathanael said unto him. "Can any good thing come out of Nazareth?" Philip saith unto him, "Come and see." Jesus saw Nathanael coming to him, and saith of him, "Behold, an Israelite indeed, in whom is no guile!" Nathanael saith unto him, "Whence knowest thou me?" Jesus answered and said unto him, "Before Philip called thee, when thou wast under the fig tree, I saw thee." Nathanael answered him, "Rabbi, thou art the Son of God; thou art King of Israel." Jesus answered and said unto him, "Because I said unto thee, 'I saw thee underneath the fig tree,' believest thou? thou shalt see greater things than these." And he saith unto him, "Verily, verily, I say unto you, Ye shall see the heaven opened, and the angels of God ascending and descending upon the Son of man." THE FIRST MIRACLE. And the third day there was a marriage in Cana of Galilee; and the mother of Jesus was there: and Jesus also was bidden, and his disciples, to the marriage. And when the wine failed, the mother of Jesus saith unto him, "They have no wine." And Jesus saith unto her, "Woman, what have I to do with thee? mine hour is not yet come." His mother saith unto the servants, "Whatsoever he saith unto you, do it." Now there were six waterpots of stone set there after the Jews' manner of purifying, containing two or three firkins apiece. Jesus saith unto them, "Fill the waterpots with water." And they filled them up to the brim. And he saith unto them, "Draw out now, and bear unto the ruler of the feast." And they bare it. And when the ruler of the feast tasted the water now become wine, and knew not whence it was (but the servants that had drawn the water knew), the ruler of the feast calleth the bridegroom, and saith unto him, "Every man setteth on first the good wine; and when men have drunk freely, then that which is worse: thou hast kept the good wine until now." This beginning of his signs did Jesus in Cana of Galilee, and manifested his glory; and his disciples believed on him. After this he went down to Capernaum, he, and his mother, and his brethren, and his disciples; and there they abode not many days. JESUS IN JERUSALEM CLEANSING HIS FATHER'S HOUSE. And the passover of the Jews was at hand, and Jesus went up to Jerusalem. And he found in the temple those that sold oxen and sheep and doves, and the changers of money sitting: and he made a scourge of cords, and cast all out of the temple, both the sheep and the oxen; and he poured out the changers' money, and overthrew their tables; and to them that sold the doves he said, "Take these things hence; make not my Father's house a house of merchandise." His disciples remembered that it was written, "Zeal for thy house shall eat me up." The Jews therefore answered and said unto him, "What sign showest thou unto us, seeing that thou doest these things?" Jesus answered and said unto them, "Destroy this temple, and in three days I will raise it up." The Jews therefore said, "Forty and six years was this temple in building, and wilt thou raise it up in three days?" But he spake of the temple of his body. When therefore he was raised from the dead, his disciples remembered that he spake thus; and they believed the scripture, and the word which Jesus had said. THE VISIT OF NICODEMUS. Now when he was in Jerusalem at the passover, during the feast, many believed on his name, beholding his signs which he did. But Jesus did not trust himself unto them, for that he knew all men, and because he needed not that any one should bear witness concerning man; for he himself knew what was in man. Now there was a man of the Pharisees, named Nicodemus, ruler of the Jews; the same came unto him by night, and said to him, "Rabbi, we know that thou art a teacher come from God; for no one can do these signs that thou doest, except God be with him." Jesus answered and said unto him, "Verily, verily, I say unto thee, Except one be born anew, he cannot see the kingdom of God." Nicodemus saith unto him, "How can a man be born when he is old? can he enter a second time into his mother's womb, and be born?" Jesus answered, "Verily, verily, I say unto thee, Except one be born of water and the Spirit, he cannot enter into the kingdom of God. That which is born of the flesh is flesh: and that which is born of the Spirit is spirit. Marvel not that I said unto thee, 'Ye must be born anew.' The wind bloweth where it will, and thou hearest the voice thereof, but knowest not whence it cometh, and whither it goeth; so is every one that is born of the Spirit." Nicodemus answered and said unto him, "How can these things be?" Jesus answered and said unto him, "Art thou the teacher of Israel, and understandest not these things? Verily, verily, I say unto thee, We speak that which we know, and bear witness of that which we have seen; and ye receive not our witness. If I told you earthly things and ye believe not, how shall ye believe if I tell you heavenly things? And no one hath ascended into heaven but he that descended out of heaven, even the Son of man, who is in heaven. And as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness even so must the Son of man be lifted up; that whosoever believeth may in him have eternal life. "For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth on him should not perish, but have eternal life. For God sent not the Son into the world to judge the world; but that the world should be saved through him. He that believeth on him is not judged: he that believeth not hath been judged already, because he hath not believed on the name of the only begotten Son of God. And this is the judgment, that the light is come into the world, and men loved the darkness rather than the light; for their works were evil. For every one that doeth evil hateth the light, and cometh not to the light, lest his works should be reproved. But he that doeth the truth cometh to the light, that his works may be made manifest, that they have been wrought in God." PREPARATORY PREACHING JESUS BAPTIZING AND PREACHING. After these things came Jesus and his disciples into the land of Judæa; and there he tarried with them, and baptized (although Jesus himself baptized not, but his disciples). And John also was baptizing in Ænon near to Salim, because there was much water there: and they came, and were baptized. For John was not yet cast into prison. And Jesus himself, when he began to teach, was about thirty years of age. JOHN'S TRIBUTE TO JESUS. There arose therefore a questioning on the part of John's disciples with a Jew about purifying. And they came unto John, and said to him, "Rabbi, he that was with thee beyond the Jordan, to whom thou hast borne witness, behold, the same baptizeth, and all men come to him." John answered and said, "A man can receive nothing, except it have been given him from heaven. Ye yourselves bear me witness, that I said, I am not the Christ, but, that I am sent before him. He that hath the bride is the bridegroom: but the friend of the bridegroom, that standeth and heareth him, rejoiceth greatly because of the bridegroom's voice: this my joy therefore is made full. He must increase, but I must decrease." He that cometh from above is above all: he that is of the earth is of the earth, and of the earth he speaketh: he that cometh from heaven is above all. What he hath seen and heard, of that he beareth witness; and no man receiveth his witness. He that hath received his witness hath set his seal to this, that God is true. For he whom God hath sent speaketh the words of God: for he giveth not the Spirit by measure. The Father loveth the Son, and hath given all things into his hand. He that believeth on the Son hath eternal life; but he that obeyeth not the Son shall not see life, but the wrath of God abideth on him. AT JACOB'S WELL. When therefore the Lord knew that the Pharisees had heard that Jesus was making and baptizing more disciples than John, he left Judæa, and departed again into Galilee. And he must needs pass through Samaria. So he cometh to a city of Samaria, called Sychar, near to the parcel of ground that Jacob gave to his son Joseph: and Jacob's well was there. Jesus therefore, being wearied with his journey, sat thus by the well. It was about the sixth hour. There cometh a woman of Samaria to draw water: Jesus saith unto her, "Give me to drink." For his disciples were gone away into the city to buy food. The Samaritan woman therefore saith unto him, "How is it that thou, being a Jew, askest drink of me, who am a Samaritan woman?" (for Jews have no dealings with Samaritans). Jesus answered and said unto her, "If thou knewest the gift of God, and who it is that saith to thee, 'Give me to drink' thou wouldest have asked of him, and he would have given thee living water." The woman saith unto him, "Sir, thou hast nothing to draw with, and the well is deep; whence then hast thou that living water? Art thou greater than our father Jacob, who gave us the well, and drank thereof himself, and his sons, and his cattle?" Jesus answered and said unto her, "Every one that drinketh of this water shall thirst again; but whosoever drinketh of the water that I shall give him shall never thirst; but the water that I shall give him shall become in him a well of water, springing up unto eternal life." The woman saith unto him, "Sir, give me this water, that I thirst not, neither come all the way hither to draw." Jesus saith unto her, "Go, call thy husband, and come hither." The woman answered and said unto him, "I have no husband." Jesus saith unto her, "Thou saidst well, I have no husband: for thou hast had five husbands; and he whom thou now hast is not thy husband: this hast thou said truly." The woman saith unto him, "Sir, I perceive that thou art a prophet. Our fathers worshipped in this mountain; and ye say, that in Jerusalem is the place where men ought to worship." Jesus saith unto her, "Woman, believe me, the hour cometh, when neither in this mountain, nor in Jerusalem, shall ye worship the Father. Ye worship that which ye know not: we worship that which we know; for salvation is from the Jews. But the hour cometh, and now is, when the true worshippers shall worship the Father in spirit and truth: for such doth the Father seek to be his worshippers. God is a Spirit: and they that worship him must worship in spirit and truth." The woman saith unto him, "I know that Messiah cometh (he that is called Christ): when he is come, he will declare unto us all things." Jesus saith unto her, "I that speak unto thee am he." PREACHING TO THE SAMARITANS. And upon this came his disciples; and they marvelled that he was speaking with a woman; yet no man said, "What seekest thou?" or, "Why speakest thou with her?" So the woman left her waterpot, and went away into the city, and saith to the people, "Come, see a man, who told me all things that ever I did: can this be the Christ?" They went out of the city, and were coming to him. In the mean while the disciples prayed him, saying, "Rabbi, eat." But he said unto them, "I have meat to eat that ye know not." The disciples therefore said one to another, "Hath any man brought him aught to eat?" Jesus saith unto them, "My meat is to do the will of him that sent me, and to accomplish his work. Say not ye, 'There are yet four months, and then cometh the harvest'? behold, I say unto you, Lift up your eyes and look on the fields, that they are white already unto harvest. He that reapeth receiveth wages, and gathereth fruit unto life eternal; that he that soweth and he that reapeth may rejoice together. For herein is the saying true, One soweth, and another reapeth. I sent you to reap that whereon ye have not labored: others have labored and ye are entered into their labor." And from that city many of the Samaritans believed on him because of the word of the woman, who testified, "He told me all things that ever I did." So when the Samaritans came unto him, they besought him to abide with them: and he abode there two days. And many more believed because of his word; and they said to the woman, "Now we believe, not because of thy speaking: for we have heard for ourselves, and know that this is indeed the Saviour of the world." =HIS YEAR OF POPULARITY= * * * * * JESUS IN GALILEE JOHN THE BAPTIST IMPRISONED. Herod the tetrarch sent forth and laid hold upon John, and bound him in prison for the sake of Herodias, his brother Philip's wife; for he had married her. For John said unto Herod, "It is not lawful for thee to have thy brother's wife." And Herodias set herself against him, and desired to kill him: and she could not; for Herod feared John, knowing that he was a righteous and holy man, and kept him safe. And when he would have put him to death, he feared the multitude, because they counted him as a prophet. RECEPTION OF JESUS BY THE GALILÆANS. Now when Jesus heard that John was delivered up, he returned in the power of the Spirit into Galilee, and the Galilæans received him, having seen all the things that he did in Jerusalem at the feast: for they also went unto the feast. And a fame went out concerning him through all the region round about. And he taught in their synagogues, preaching the gospel of God, and saying, "The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God is at hand: repent ye, and believe in the gospel." HEALING THE NOBLEMAN'S SON. He came therefore again unto Cana of Galilee, where he made the water wine. And there was a certain nobleman, whose son was sick at Capernaum. When he heard that Jesus was come out of Judæa into Galilee, he went unto him, and besought him that he would come down, and heal his son; for he was at the point of death. Jesus therefore said unto him, "Except ye see signs and wonders, ye will in no wise believe." The nobleman saith unto him, "Sir, come down ere my child die." Jesus saith unto him, "Go thy way; thy son liveth." The man believed the word that Jesus spake unto him, and he went his way. And as he was now going down, his servants met him, saying that his son lived. So he inquired of them the hour when he began to amend. They said therefore unto him, "Yesterday at the seventh hour the fever left him." So the father knew that it was at that hour in which Jesus said unto him, "Thy son liveth": and himself believed, and his whole house. This is again the second sign that Jesus did, having come out of Judæa into Galilee. THE RECALL OF THE FISHERMEN. And he came down to Capernaum, a city of Galilee, which is by the sea, in the borders of Zebulun and Naphtali: that it might be fulfilled which was spoken through Isaiah the prophet, saying, "The land of Zebulun and the land of Naphtali, Toward the sea, beyond the Jordan, Galilee of the Gentiles, The people that sat in darkness Saw a great light, And to them that sat in the region and shadow of death, To them did light spring up." Now it came to pass, while the multitude pressed upon him and heard the word of God, that he was standing by the lake of Gennesaret; and he saw two boats standing by the lake: but the fishermen had gone out of them, and were washing their nets. And he entered into one of the boats, which was Simon's, and asked him to put out a little from the land. And he sat down and taught the multitudes out of the boat. And when he had left speaking, he said unto Simon, "Put out into the deep, and let down your nets for a draught." And Simon answered and said, "Master, we toiled all night, and took nothing: but at thy word I will let down the nets." And when they had done this, they inclosed a great multitude of fishes; and their nets were breaking; and they beckoned unto their partners in the other boat, that they should come and help them. And they came, and filled both the boats, so that they began to sink. But Simon Peter, when he saw it, fell down at Jesus' knees, saying, "Depart from me; for I am a sinful man, O Lord!" For he was amazed, and all that were with him, at the draught of the fishes which they had taken; and so were also James and John, sons of Zebedee, who were partners with Simon. And Jesus said unto Simon, "Fear not; from henceforth thou shalt catch men." And when they had brought their boats to land, they left all, and followed him. A DAY OF GOOD DEEDS IN CAPERNAUM. And straightway on the sabbath day he entered into the synagogue and taught. And they were astonished at his teaching: for his word was with authority. And in the synagogue there was a man, that had a spirit of an unclean demon; and he cried out with a loud voice, "Ah! what have we to do with thee, Jesus thou Nazarene? art thou come to destroy us? I know thee who thou art, the Holy One of God!" And Jesus rebuked him, saying, "Hold thy peace, and come out of him." And when the demon had thrown him down in the midst, tearing him and crying out with a loud voice, he came out of him, having done him no hurt. And amazement came upon all, and they spake together, one with another, saying, "What is this word? for with authority and power he commandeth the unclean spirits, and they come out." And there went forth a rumor concerning him into every place of the region of Galilee round about. And he rose up from the synagogue, and entered into the house of Simon. And Simon's wife's mother was holden with a great fever; and they besought him for her. And he stood over her, and rebuked the fever; and it left her: and immediately she rose up and ministered unto them. And at even, when the sun did set, they brought unto him all that were sick, and them that were possessed with demons. And all the city was gathered together at the door. And he cast out many demons with a word, and he suffered not the demons to speak, because they knew that he was the Christ. And he laid his hands on every one of them, and healed all that were sick of divers diseases; that it might be fulfilled which was spoken through Isaiah the prophet, saying, "Himself took our infirmities, and bare our diseases." THE FIRST LEPER HEALED. And in the morning, a great while before day, he rose up and went out, and departed into a desert place, and there prayed. And Simon and they that were with him followed after him; and they found him, and say unto him, "All are seeking thee." And he saith unto them, "Let us go elsewhere into the next towns, that I may preach there also; for to this end came I forth." And he went into their synagogues throughout all Galilee, preaching and casting out demons. And it came to pass, while he was in one of the cities, there cometh to him a man full of leprosy, beseeching him, and kneeling down to him, and saying unto him, "Lord, if thou wilt, thou canst make me clean." And being moved with compassion, he stretched forth his hand, and touched him, and saith unto him, "I will; be thou made clean." And straightway the leprosy departed from him, and he was made clean. And he strictly charged him, and straightway sent him out, and saith unto him, "See thou say nothing to any man: but go show thyself to the priest, and offer for thy cleansing the things which Moses commanded, for a testimony unto them." But he went out, and began to publish it much, and to spread abroad the matter, insomuch that Jesus could no more openly enter into a city, but withdrew himself to desert places and prayed: and they came to him from every quarter to hear and to be healed of their infirmities. And the power of the Lord was with him to heal. BEGINNINGS OF CONTROVERSY THE HEALING OF A PARALYTIC. And when he entered again into Capernaum after some days, it was noised that he was in the house. And many were gathered together, so that there was no longer room for them, no, not even about the door; and he spake the word unto them. And they come, bringing unto him a man sick of the palsy, borne of four. And when they could not come nigh unto him for the crowd, they went up to the housetop, and uncovered the roof where he was: and when they had broken it up, they let down the bed whereon the sick of the palsy lay. And Jesus seeing their faith saith unto the sick of the palsy, "Son, thy sins are forgiven." But there were certain of the scribes sitting there, and reasoning in their hearts, "Why doth this man thus speak? he blasphemeth: who can forgive sins but one, even God?" And straightway Jesus, perceiving in his spirit that they so reasoned within themselves, saith unto them, "Why reason ye these things in your hearts? Which is easier, to say to the sick of the palsy, 'Thy sins are forgiven,' or to say, 'Arise, and take up thy bed, and walk?' But that ye may know that the Son of man hath authority on earth to forgive sins (he saith to the sick of the palsy), 'I say unto thee, Arise, take up thy bed, and go unto thy house.'" And he arose, and straightway took up the bed, and went forth before them all; insomuch that they were all amazed, and were filled with fear, and glorified God, saying, "We never saw it on this fashion: we have seen strange things to-day." THE PUBLICAN DISCIPLE. And Jesus went forth again by the sea side; and all the multitude resorted unto him, and he taught them. And as he passed by, he saw a man, called Levi Matthew, the son of Alphæus, sitting at the place of toll, and he saith unto him, "Follow me." And he forsook all, and arose and followed him. And Levi made him a great feast in his house. And there was a great multitude of publicans and sinners that were sitting at meat with Jesus and his disciples. And when the Pharisees saw it, they said unto his disciples, "Why eateth your Teacher with the publicans and sinners?" But when he heard it, he said, "They that are whole have no need of a physician, but they that are sick. But go ye and learn what this meaneth, 'I desire mercy, and not sacrifice': for I came not to call the righteous, but sinners." THE OLD AND THE NEW. And John's disciples and the Pharisees were fasting, and they come and say unto him, "The disciples of John fast often, and make supplications; likewise also the disciples of the Pharisees; but thine eat and drink." And Jesus said unto them, "Can ye make the sons of the bride-chamber fast, while the bridegroom is with them? But the days will come; and when the bridegroom shall be taken away from them, then will they fast in those days." And he spake also a parable unto them: "No man rendeth a piece from a new garment and putteth it upon an old garment; else he will rend the new, and also the piece from the new will not agree with the old. And no man putteth new wine into old wine-skins; else the new wine will burst the skins, and itself will be spilled, and the skins will perish. But new wine must be put into fresh wine-skins. And no man having drunk old wine desireth new; for he saith, The old is good." A SABBATH HEALING IN JERUSALEM. After these things there was a feast of the Jews; and Jesus went up to Jerusalem. Now there is in Jerusalem by the sheep gate a pool, which is called in Hebrew Bethesda, having five porches. In these lay a multitude of them that were sick, blind, halt, withered. And a certain man was there, who had been thirty and eight years in his infirmity. When Jesus saw him lying, and knew that he had been now a long time in that case, he saith unto him, "Wouldest thou be made whole?" The sick man answered him, "Sir, I have no man, when the water is troubled, to put me into the pool: but while I am coming, another steppeth down before me." Jesus saith unto him, "Arise, take up thy bed, and walk." And straightway the man was made whole, and took up his bed and walked. Now it was the sabbath on that day. So the Jews said unto him that was cured, "It is the sabbath, and it is not lawful for thee to take up thy bed." But he answered them, "He that made me whole, the same said unto me, 'Take up thy bed, and walk.'" They asked him, "Who is the man that said unto thee, 'Take up thy bed, and walk'?" But he that was healed knew not who it was; for Jesus had conveyed himself away, a multitude being in the place. Afterward Jesus findeth him in the temple, and said unto him, "Behold, thou art made whole: sin no more, lest a worse thing befall thee." The man went away, and told the Jews that it was Jesus who had made him whole. And for this cause the Jews persecuted Jesus, because he did these things on the sabbath. But Jesus answered them, "My Father worketh even until now, and I work." For this cause therefore the Jews sought the more to kill him, because he not only brake the sabbath, but also called God his own Father, making himself equal with God. Jesus therefore answered and said unto them, "Verily, verily, I say unto you, The Son can do nothing of himself, but what he seeth the Father doing: for what things soever he doeth, these the Son also doeth in like manner. For the Father loveth the Son, and showeth him all things that himself doeth: and greater works than these will he show him, that ye may marvel. For as the Father raiseth the dead and giveth them life, even so the Son also giveth life to whom he will. For neither doth the Father judge any man, but he hath given all judgment unto the Son; that all may honor the Son, even as they honor the Father. He that honoreth not the Son honoreth not the Father that sent him. Verily, verily, I say unto you, He that heareth my word, and believeth him that sent me, hath eternal life, and cometh not into judgment, but hath passed out of death into life. Verily, verily, I say unto you, The hour cometh, and now is, when the dead shall hear the voice of the Son of God; and they that hear shall live. For as the Father hath life in himself, even so gave he to the Son also to have life in himself: and he gave him authority to execute judgment, because he is a son of man. Marvel not at this: for the hour cometh, in which all that are in the tombs shall hear his voice, and shall come forth; they that have done good, unto the resurrection of life; and they that have done evil, unto the resurrection of judgment. "I can of myself do nothing: as I hear, I judge: and my judgment is righteous; because I seek not mine own will, but the will of him that sent me. If I bear witness of myself, my witness is not true. It is another that beareth witness of me; and I know that the witness which he witnesseth of me is true. Ye have sent unto John, and he hath borne witness unto the truth. But the witness which I receive is not from man: howbeit I say these things, that ye may be saved. He was the lamp that burneth and shineth; and ye were willing to rejoice for a season in his light. But the witness which I have is greater than that of John; for the works which the Father hath given me to accomplish, the very works that I do, bear witness of me, that the Father hath sent me. And the Father that sent me, he hath borne witness of me. Ye have neither heard his voice at any time, nor seen his form. And ye have not his word abiding in you: for whom he sent, him ye believe not. "Ye search the scriptures, because ye think that in them ye have eternal life; and these are they which bear witness of me; and ye will not come to me, that ye may have life. I receive not glory from men. But I know you, that ye have not the love of God in yourselves. I am come in my Father's name, and ye receive me not: if another shall come in his own name, him ye will receive. How can ye believe, who receive glory one of another, and the glory that cometh from the only God ye seek not? Think not that I will accuse you to the Father: there is one that accuseth you, even Moses, on whom ye have set your hope. For if ye believed Moses, ye would believe me; for he wrote of me. But if ye believe not his writings, how shall ye believe my words?" PLUCKING GRAIN ON THE SABBATH. At that season Jesus went on the sabbath day through the grainfields; and his disciples were hungry and began to pluck ears and to eat, rubbing them in their hands. But the Pharisees, when they saw it, said unto him, "Behold, thy disciples do that which it is not lawful to do upon the sabbath." But he said unto them, "Have ye not read what David did, when he had need and was hungry, and they that were with him: how he entered into the house of God, and ate the showbread, which it was not lawful for him to eat, neither for them that were with him, but only for the priests? Or have ye not read in the law, that on the sabbath day the priests in the temple profane the sabbath, and are guiltless? But I say unto you, that one greater than the temple is here. But if ye had known what this meaneth, 'I desire mercy, and not sacrifice,' ye would not have condemned the guiltless." And he said unto them, "The sabbath was made for man, and not man for the sabbath: so that the Son of man is lord even of the sabbath." MANY CALLED AND FEW CHOSEN A MULTITUDE OF DISCIPLES. And the report of him went forth into all Syria: and they brought unto him all that were sick, holden with divers diseases and torments, possessed with demons, and epileptic, and palsied; and he healed them. And Jesus with his disciples withdrew to the sea: and a great multitude from Galilee followed; and from Judæa, and from Jerusalem, and from Idumæa, and beyond the Jordan, and about Tyre and Sidon, a great multitude, hearing what great things he did, came unto him. And he spake to his disciples, that a little boat should wait on him because of the crowd, lest they should throng him: for he had healed many; insomuch that as many as had plagues pressed upon him that they might touch him: for power came forth from him, and healed them all. And the unclean spirits, whensoever they beheld him, fell down before him, and cried, saying, "Thou art the Son of God." And he charged them much that they should not make him known: that it might be fulfilled which was spoken through Isaiah the prophet, saying, "Behold my servant whom I have chosen; My beloved in whom my soul is well pleased; I will put my Spirit upon him, And he shall declare judgment to the Gentiles. He shall not strive, nor cry aloud; Neither shall any one hear his voice in the streets. A bruised reed shall he not break. And smoking flax shall he not quench. Till he send forth judgment unto victory. And in his name shall the nations hope." SELECTION OF THE TWELVE. And it came to pass in these days, that he went out into the mountain to pray; and he continued all night in prayer to God. And when it was day, he called his disciples; and he chose from them twelve, that they might be with him, and that he might send them forth to preach, and to have authority to cast out demons. Now the names of the twelve apostles are these: Simon, whom he surnamed Peter, and Andrew, his brother; James, the son of Zebedee, and John his brother, and them he surnamed Boanerges, which is sons of thunder; Philip and Bartholomew; Thomas and Matthew the publican; James the son of Alphæus, and Thaddæus; Simon, who was called the Zealot, and Judas Iscariot, who became a traitor. THE TEACHING OF THE KINGDOM THE CITIZENS OF THE KINGDOM. And he lifted up his eyes on his disciples, and said: "Blessed are the poor in spirit: for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. "Blessed are they that mourn: for they shall be comforted. "Blessed are the meek: for they shall inherit the earth. "Blessed are they that hunger and thirst after righteousness: for they shall be filled. "Blessed are the merciful: for they shall obtain mercy. "Blessed are the pure in heart: for they shall see God. "Blessed are the peacemakers: for they shall be called sons of God. "Blessed are they that have been persecuted for righteousness' sake: for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Blessed are ye when men shall reproach you, and persecute you, and say all manner of evil against you falsely, for my sake. Rejoice, and be exceeding glad: for great is your reward in heaven: for so persecuted they the prophets that were before you. "Ye are the salt of the earth: but if the salt have lost its savor, wherewith shall it be salted? it is thenceforth good for nothing, but to be cast out and trodden under foot of men. "Ye are the light of the world. A city set on a hill cannot be hid. Neither do men light a lamp, and put it under the bushel, but on the stand; and it shineth unto all that are in the house. Even so let your light shine before men; that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father who is in heaven. THE RIGHTEOUSNESS OF THE KINGDOM. "Think not that I came to destroy the law or the prophets: I came not to destroy, but to fulfil. For verily I say unto you, Till heaven and earth pass away, one jot or one tittle shall in no wise pass away from the law, till all things be accomplished. Whosoever therefore shall break one of these least commandments, and shall teach men so, shall be called least in the kingdom of heaven: but whosoever shall do and teach them, he shall be called great in the kingdom of heaven. For I say unto you, that except your righteousness shall exceed the righteousness of the scribes and Pharisees, ye shall in no wise enter into the kingdom of heaven. "Ye have heard that it was said to them of old time, 'Thou shalt not kill; and whosoever shall kill shall be in danger of the judgment:' but I say unto you, that every one who is angry with his brother shall be in danger of the judgment; and whosoever shall say to his brother, 'Raca,' shall be in danger of the council; and whosoever shall say, 'Thou fool,' shall be in danger of the hell of fire. "If therefore thou art offering thy gift at the altar, and there rememberest that thy brother hath aught against thee, leave there thy gift before the altar, and go thy way, first be reconciled to thy brother, and then come and offer thy gift. Agree with thine adversary quickly, while thou art with him in the way; lest haply the adversary deliver thee to the judge, and the judge deliver thee to the officer, and thou be cast into prison. Verily I say unto thee, Thou shalt by no means come out thence, till thou have paid the last farthing. "Ye have heard that it was said, 'Thou shalt not commit adultery:' but I say unto you, that every one that looketh on a woman to lust after her hath committed adultery with her already in his heart. And if thy right eye causeth thee to stumble, pluck it out, and cast it from thee: for it is profitable for thee that one of thy members should perish, and not thy whole body be cast into hell. And if thy right hand causeth thee to stumble, cut it off, and cast it from thee: for it is profitable for thee that one of thy members should perish, and not thy whole body go into hell. "It was said also, 'Whosoever shall put away his wife, let him give her a writing of divorcement:' but I say unto you, that every one that putteth away his wife, saving for the cause of fornication, maketh her an adulteress: and whosoever shall marry her when she is put away committeth adultery. "Again, ye have heard that it was said to them of old time, 'Thou shalt not forswear thyself, but shalt perform unto the Lord thine oaths:' but I say unto you, Swear not at all; neither by the heaven, for it is the throne of God; nor by the earth, for it is the footstool of his feet; nor by Jerusalem, for it is the city of the great King. Neither shalt thou swear by thy head, for thou canst not make one hair white or black. But let your speech be, 'Yea, yea; Nay, nay:' and whatsoever is more than these is of the evil one. "Ye have heard that it was said, 'An eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth:' but I say unto you, Resist not him that is evil: but whosoever smiteth thee on thy right cheek, turn to him the other also. And if any man would go to law with thee, and take away thy coat, let him have thy cloak also. And whosoever shall compel thee to go one mile, go with him two. Give to every one that asketh thee; and of him that taketh away thy goods ask them not again, and from him that would borrow of thee turn not thou away. All things therefore whatsoever ye would that men should do unto you, even so do ye also unto them: for this is the law and the prophets. "Ye have heard that it was said, 'Thou shalt love thy neighbor, and hate thine enemy:' but I say unto you, Love your enemies, do good to them that hate you, bless them that curse you, pray for them that despitefully use you, that ye may be sons of your Father who is in heaven: for he maketh his sun to rise on the evil and the good, and sendeth rain on the just and the unjust. For if ye love them that love you, what reward have ye? do not even the publicans the same? And if ye salute your brethren only, what do ye more than others? do not even the Gentiles the same? And if ye do good to them that do good to you, what thank have ye? for even sinners do the same. And if ye lend to them of whom ye hope to receive, what thank have ye? even sinners lend to sinners, to receive again as much. But love your enemies, and do them good, and lend, never despairing; and your reward shall be great, and ye shall be sons of the Most High: for he is kind toward the unthankful and evil. Ye therefore shall be perfect, as your heavenly Father is perfect. THE DANGER OF HYPOCRISY. "Take heed that ye do not your righteousness before men, to be seen of them: else ye have no reward with your Father who is in heaven. "When therefore thou doest alms, sound not a trumpet before thee, as the hypocrites do in the synagogues and in the streets, that they may have glory of men. Verily I say unto you, They have received their reward. But when thou doest alms, let not thy left hand know what thy right hand doeth: that thine alms may be in secret: and thy Father who seeth in secret shall recompense thee. "And when ye pray, ye shall not be as the hypocrites: for they love to stand and pray in the synagogues and in the corners of the streets, that they may be seen of men. Verily I say unto you, They have received their reward. But thou, when thou prayest, enter into thine inner chamber, and having shut thy door, pray to thy Father who is in secret, and thy Father who seeth in secret shall recompense thee. And in praying use not vain repetitions, as the Gentiles do: for they think that they shall be heard for their much speaking. Be not therefore like unto them: for your Father knoweth what things ye have need of before ye ask him. After this manner therefore pray ye: Our Father who art in heaven, Hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come. Thy will be done, as in heaven, so on earth. Give us this day our daily bread. And forgive us our debts, as we also have forgiven our debtors. And bring us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil. "For if ye forgive men their trespasses, your heavenly Father will also forgive you. But if ye forgive not men their trespasses, neither will your Father forgive your trespasses. "Moreover when ye fast, be not, as the hypocrites, of a sad countenance: for they disfigure their faces, that they may be seen of men to fast. Verily I say unto you, They have received their reward. But thou, when thou fastest, anoint thy head, and wash thy face; that thou be not seen of men to fast, but of thy Father who is in secret: and thy Father, who seeth in secret, shall recompense thee. SIMPLE TRUST IN GOD. "Lay not up for yourselves treasures upon the earth, where moth and rust consume, and where thieves break through and steal: but lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust doth consume, and where thieves do not break through nor steal: for where thy treasure is, there will thy heart be also. "The lamp of the body is the eye: if therefore thine eye be single, thy whole body shall be full of light. But if thine eye be evil, thy whole body shall be full of darkness. If therefore the light that is in thee be darkness, how great is the darkness! "No man can serve two masters: for either he will hate the one, and love the other; or else he will hold to one, and despise the other. Ye cannot serve God and mammon. "Therefore I say unto you, Be not anxious for your life, what ye shall eat, or what ye shall drink; nor yet for your body, what ye shall put on. Is not the life more than the food, and the body than the raiment? Behold the birds of the heaven, that they sow not, neither do they reap, nor gather into barns; and your heavenly Father feedeth them. Are not ye of much more value than they? And which of you by being anxious can add one cubit unto the measure of his life? "And why are ye anxious concerning raiment? Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow; they toil not, neither do they spin: yet I say unto you, that even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these. But if God doth so clothe the grass of the field, which to-day is, and to-morrow is cast into the oven, shall he not much more clothe you, O ye of little faith? Be not therefore anxious, saying, 'What shall we eat?' or, 'What shall we drink?' or, 'Wherewithal shall we be clothed?' For after all these things do the Gentiles seek; for your heavenly Father knoweth that ye have need of all these things. But seek ye first his kingdom, and his righteousness; and all these things shall be added unto you. Fear not, little flock; for it is your Father's good pleasure to give you the kingdom. "Be not therefore anxious for the morrow: for the morrow will be anxious for itself. Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof. CHARITABLE JUDGMENT. "Be ye merciful, even as your Father is merciful. And judge not, and ye shall not be judged: and condemn not, and ye shall not be condemned: release, and ye shall be released: give, and it shall be given unto you; good measure, pressed down, shaken together, running over, shall they give into your bosom. For with what measure ye mete it shall be measured to you again." And he spake also a parable unto them, "Can the blind guide the blind? shall they not both fall into a pit? The disciple is not above his teacher: but every one when he is perfected shall be as his teacher. And why beholdest thou the mote that is in thy brother's eye, but considerest not the beam that is in thine own eye? Or how canst thou say to thy brother, 'Brother, let me cast out the mote that is in thine eye,' when thou thyself beholdest not the beam that is in thine own eye? Thou hypocrite, cast out first the beam out of thine own eye, and then shalt thou see clearly to cast out the mote that is in thy brother's eye. "Give not that which is holy unto the dogs, neither cast your pearls before the swine, lest haply they trample them under their feet, and turn and rend you." PRAYER. And he said unto them, "Which of you shall have a friend, and shall go unto him at midnight, and say to him, 'Friend, lend me three loaves; for a friend of mine is come to me from a journey, and I have nothing to set before him;' and he from within shall answer and say, 'Trouble me not: the door is now shut, and my children are with me in bed; I cannot rise and give thee?' I say unto you, Though he will not rise and give him because he is his friend, yet because of his importunity he will arise and give him as many as he needeth. "And I say unto you, Ask, and it shall be given you; seek, and ye shall find; knock, and it shall be opened unto you: for every one that asketh receiveth; and he that seeketh findeth; and to him that knocketh it shall be opened. Or what man is there of you that is a father, who, if his son shall ask him for a loaf, will give him a stone; or if he shall ask for a fish, will give him a serpent; or if he shall ask an egg, will give him a scorpion? If ye then, being evil, know how to give good gifts unto your children, how much more shall your Father who is in heaven give good things to them that ask him? SINCERITY. "Enter ye in by the narrow gate: for wide is the gate, and broad is the way, that leadeth to destruction, and many are they that enter in thereby. For narrow is the gate, and straitened the way, that leadeth unto life, and few are they that find it. "Beware of false prophets, who come to you in sheep's clothing, but inwardly are ravening wolves. By their fruits ye shall know them. Do men gather grapes of thorns, or figs of thistles? Even so every good tree bringeth forth good fruit; but the corrupt tree bringeth forth evil fruit. A good tree cannot bring forth evil fruit, neither can a corrupt tree bring forth good fruit. Every tree that bringeth not forth good fruit is hewn down, and cast into the fire. Therefore by their fruits ye shall know them. "The good man out of the good treasure of his heart bringeth forth that which is good; and the evil man out of the evil treasure bringeth forth that which is evil: for out of the abundance of the heart his mouth speaketh. "Not every one that saith unto me, 'Lord, Lord,' shall enter into the kingdom of heaven; but he that doeth the will of my Father who is in heaven. Many will say to me in that day, 'Lord, Lord, did we not prophesy by thy name, and by thy name cast out demons, and by thy name do many mighty works?' And then will I profess unto them, I never knew you: depart from me, ye that work iniquity. "Every one therefore that heareth these words of mine, and doeth them, shall be likened unto a wise man, who built his house upon the rock: and the rain descended, and the floods came, and the winds blew, and beat upon that house; and it fell not: for it was founded upon the rock. And every one that heareth these words of mine, and doeth them not, shall be likened unto a foolish man, who built his house upon the sand: and the rain descended, and the floods came, and the winds blew, and smote upon that house; and it fell: and great was the fall thereof." And it came to pass, when Jesus had finished these words, the multitudes were astonished at his teaching: for he taught them as one having authority, and not as their scribes. A TOUR IN GALILEE THE WORTHY CENTURION. After he had ended all his sayings in the ears of the people, he entered into Capernaum. And a certain centurion's servant, who was dear unto him, was sick and at the point of death. And when he heard concerning Jesus, he sent unto him elders of the Jews, asking him that he would come and save his servant. And they, when they came to Jesus, besought him earnestly, saying, "He is worthy that thou shouldest do this for him; for he loveth our nation, and himself built us our synagogue." And Jesus went with them. And when he was now not far from the house, the centurion sent friends to him, saying unto him, "Lord, trouble not thyself; for I am not worthy that thou shouldest come under my roof: wherefore neither thought I myself worthy to come unto thee: but say the word, and my servant shall be healed. For I also am a man set under authority, having under myself soldiers: and I say to this one, 'Go,' and he goeth; and to another, 'Come,' and he cometh; and to my servant, 'Do this,' and he doeth it." And when Jesus heard these things, he marvelled at him, and turned and said unto the multitude that followed him, "Verily I say unto you, I have not found so great faith, no, not in Israel. And I say unto you, that many shall come from the east and the west, and shall sit down with Abraham, and Isaac, and Jacob, in the kingdom of heaven: but the sons of the kingdom shall be cast forth into the outer darkness: there shall be the weeping and the gnashing of teeth." And they that were sent, returning to the house, found the servant whole. RAISING THE WIDOW'S SON. And it came to pass soon afterwards, that he went to a city called Nain; and his disciples went with him, and a great multitude. Now when he drew near to the gate of the city, behold, there was carried out one that was dead, the only son of his mother, and she was a widow: and much people of the city was with her. And when the Lord saw her, he had compassion on her, and said unto her, "Weep not." And he came nigh and touched the bier: and the bearers stood still. And he said, "Young man, I say unto thee, Arise." And he that was dead sat up, and began to speak. And he gave him to his mother. And fear took hold on all: and they glorified God, saying, "A great prophet is arisen among us: and, God hath visited his people." And this report went forth concerning him in the whole of Judæa, and all the region round about. A QUESTION FROM JOHN THE BAPTIST. And the disciples of John told him in the prison of all these things. And John calling unto him two of his disciples sent them to the Lord, saying, "Art thou he that cometh, or look we for another?" And when the men were come unto him, they said, "John the Baptist hath sent us unto thee, saying, 'Art thou he that cometh, or look we for another?'" In that hour he cured many of diseases and plagues and evil spirits; and on many that were blind he bestowed sight. And he answered and said unto them, "Go and tell John the things which ye have seen and heard; the blind receive their sight, the lame walk, the lepers are cleansed, and the deaf hear, the dead are raised up, the poor have good tidings preached to them. And blessed is he, whosoever shall find no occasion of stumbling in me." JESUS' ESTIMATE OF JOHN THE BAPTIST. And when the messengers of John were departed, he began to say unto the multitudes concerning John, "What went ye out into the wilderness to behold? a reed shaken with the wind? But what went ye out to see? a man clothed in soft raiment? Behold, they that are gorgeously apparelled, and live delicately, are in kings' courts. But what went ye out to see? a prophet? Yea, I say unto you, and much more than a prophet. This is he of whom it is written. "'Behold, I send my messenger before thy face, Who shall prepare thy way before thee.' "Verily I say unto you, Among them that are born of women there hath not arisen a greater than John the Baptist: yet he that is but little in the kingdom of heaven is greater than he. And all the people when they heard, and the publicans, justified God, being baptized with the baptism of John. But the Pharisees and the lawyers rejected for themselves the counsel of God, being not baptized of him. "And from the days of John the Baptist until now the kingdom of heaven suffereth violence, and men of violence take it by force. For all the prophets and the law prophesied until John. And if ye are willing to receive it, this is Elijah that is to come. He that hath ears to hear, let him hear. "But whereunto shall I liken this generation? It is like unto children sitting in the marketplaces, who call unto their fellows and say, 'We piped unto you, and ye did not dance; we wailed, and ye did not mourn.' For John came neither eating nor drinking, and they say, 'He hath a demon.' The Son of man came eating and drinking, and they say, 'Behold, a gluttonous man and a winebibber, a friend of publicans and sinners!' And wisdom is justified of all her children." THE DEATH OF JOHN THE BAPTIST. And Herod on his birthday made a supper to his lords, and the high captains, and the chief men of Galilee. And the daughter of Herodias danced in the midst, and pleased Herod, and them that sat at meat with him; and the king said unto the damsel, "Ask of me whatsoever thou wilt, and I will give it thee." And he sware unto her, "Whatsoever thou shalt ask of me, I will give it to thee, unto the half of my kingdom." And she went out, and said unto her mother, "What shall I ask?" And she said, "The head of John the Baptist." And she came in straightway with haste unto the king, and asked, saying, "I will that thou forthwith give me on a platter the head of John the Baptist." And the king was exceeding sorry; but for the sake of his oaths, and of them that sat at meat, he would not reject her. And straightway the king sent forth a soldier of his guard, and commanded to bring his head: and he went and beheaded him in the prison, and brought his head on a platter, and gave it to the damsel; and the damsel gave it to her mother. And when his disciples heard thereof, they came and took up his corpse, and laid it in a tomb; and they went and told Jesus. FORGIVENESS OF THE REPENTANT WOMAN. And one of the Pharisees desired him that he would eat with him. And he entered into the Pharisee's house, and sat down to meat. And behold, a woman who was in the city, a sinner; and when she knew that he was sitting at meat in the Pharisee's house, she brought an alabaster cruse of ointment, and standing behind at his feet, weeping, she began to wet his feet with her tears, and wiped them with the hair of her head, and kissed his feet, and anointed them with the ointment. Now when the Pharisee that had bidden him saw it, he spake within himself, saying, "This man, if he were a prophet, would have perceived who and what manner of woman this is that toucheth him, that she is a sinner." And Jesus answering said unto him, "Simon, I have somewhat to say unto thee." And he saith, "Teacher, say on." "A certain lender had two debtors: the one owed five hundred shillings, and the other fifty. When they had not wherewith to pay, he forgave them both. Which of them therefore will love him most?" Simon answered and said, "He, I suppose, to whom he forgave the most." And he said unto him, "Thou hast rightly judged." And turning to the woman, he said unto Simon, "Seest thou this woman? I entered into thy house, thou gavest me no water for my feet: but she hath wetted my feet with her tears, and wiped them with her hair. Thou gavest me no kiss: but she, since the time I came in, hath not ceased to kiss my feet. My head with oil thou didst not anoint: but she hath anointed my feet with ointment. Wherefore I say unto thee, Her sins, which are many, are forgiven; for she loved much: but to whom little is forgiven, the same loveth little." And he said unto her, "Thy sins are forgiven." And they that sat at meat with him began to say within themselves, "Who is this that even forgiveth sins?" And he said unto the woman, "Thy faith hath saved thee; go in peace." THE MINISTERING WOMEN. And it came to pass soon afterwards, that he went about through cities and villages, preaching and bringing the good tidings of the kingdom of God, and with him the twelve, and certain women who had been healed of evil spirits and infirmities: Mary that was called Magdalene, from whom seven demons had gone out, and Joanna the wife of Chuzas Herod's steward, and Susanna, and many others, who ministered unto them of their substance. GROWING POPULARITY AND RISING OPPOSITION THE CONCERN OF JESUS' FRIENDS. And he cometh into a house. And the multitude cometh together again, so that they could not so much as eat bread. And when his friends heard it, they went out to lay hold on him: for they said, "He is beside himself." And there came to him his mother and brethren, and they could not come at him for the crowd. And it was told him, "Thy mother and thy brethren stand without, desiring to see thee." But he answered and said unto him that told him, "Who is my mother? and who are my brethren?" And he stretched forth his hand towards his disciples, and said, "Behold, my mother and my brethren! For whosoever shall do the will of my Father who is in heaven, he is my brother, and sister, and mother." WARNING OF ETERNAL SIN. Then was brought unto him one possessed with a demon, blind and dumb: and he healed him, insomuch that the dumb man spake and saw. And all the multitudes were amazed, and said, "Can this be the son of David?" But when the Pharisees heard it, and the scribes that came down from Jerusalem, they said, "This man doth not cast out demons, but by Beelzebub the prince of the demons." And knowing their thoughts he said unto them, "Every kingdom divided against itself is brought to desolation; and every city or house divided against itself shall not stand: and if Satan casteth out Satan, he is divided against himself; how then shall his kingdom stand? And if I by Beelzebub cast out demons, by whom do your sons cast them out? therefore shall they be your judges. But if I by the Spirit of God cast out demons, then is the kingdom of God come upon you. "When the strong man fully armed guardeth his own court, his goods are in peace: but when a stronger than he shall come upon him, and overcome him, he taketh from him his whole armor wherein he trusted, and divideth his spoils. He that is not with me is against me; and he that gathereth not with me scattereth. "Verily I say unto you, All their sins shall be forgiven unto the sons of men, and their blasphemies wherewith soever they shall blaspheme: but whosoever shall blaspheme against the Holy Spirit hath never forgiveness, but is guilty of an eternal sin:" because they said, "He hath an unclean spirit." "Either make the tree good, and its fruit good; or make the tree corrupt, and its fruit corrupt: for the tree is known by its fruit. Ye offspring of vipers, how can ye, being evil, speak good things? for out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaketh. The good man out of his good treasure bringeth forth good things: and the evil man out of his evil treasure bringeth forth evil things. And I say unto you, that every idle word that men shall speak, they shall give account thereof in the day of judgment. For by thy words thou shalt be justified, and by thy words thou shalt be condemned." THE DEMAND FOR A SIGN. Then certain of the scribes and Pharisees answered him, saying, "Teacher, we would see a sign from thee." But he answered and said unto them, "An evil and adulterous generation seeketh after a sign; and there shall no sign be given to it but the sign of Jonah the prophet; for even as Jonah became a sign unto the Ninevites, so shall also the Son of man be to this generation. The queen of the south shall rise up in the judgment with the men of this generation, and shall condemn them: for she came from the ends of the earth to hear the wisdom of Solomon; and behold, a greater than Solomon is here. The men of Nineveh shall stand up in the judgment with this generation, and shall condemn it: for they repented at the preaching of Jonah; and behold, a greater than Jonah is here. "But the unclean spirit, when he is gone out of the man, passeth through waterless places, seeking rest, and findeth it not. Then he saith, 'I will return into my house whence I came out;' and when he is come, he findeth it empty, swept, and garnished. Then goeth he, and taketh with himself seven other spirits more evil than himself, and they enter in and dwell there: and the last state of that man becometh worse than the first. Even so shall it be also unto this evil generation." And it came to pass, as he said these things, a certain woman out of the multitude lifted up her voice, and said unto him, "Blessed is the womb that bare thee, and the breasts which thou didst suck." But he said, "Yea rather, blessed are they that hear the word of God and keep it." THE PARABLES OF THE KINGDOM THE SOWER. On that day went Jesus out of the house, and sat by the sea side. And there were gathered unto him great multitudes, so that he entered into a boat, and sat; and all the multitude stood on the beach. And he spake to them many things in parables, saying, "Hearken: Behold, the sower went forth to sow: and it came to pass, as he sowed, some seed fell by the wayside, and the birds came and devoured it. And other fell on the rocky ground, where it had not much earth; and straightway it sprang up, because it had no deepness of earth: and when the sun was risen, it was scorched; and because it had no root, it withered away. And other fell among the thorns, and the thorns grew up, and choked it, and it yielded no fruit. And others fell into the good ground, and yielded fruit, growing up and increasing; and brought forth, thirtyfold, and sixtyfold, and a hundredfold." And he said, "Who hath ears to hear, let him hear." And when he was alone, they that were about him with the twelve came, and said unto him, "Why speakest thou unto them in parables?" And he answered and said unto them, "Unto you it is given to know the mysteries of the kingdom of heaven, but to them it is not given. For whosoever hath, to him shall be given, and he shall have abundance: but whosoever hath not, from him shall be taken away even that which he hath. Therefore speak I to them in parables; because seeing they see not, and hearing they hear not, neither do they understand. And unto them is fulfilled the prophecy of Isaiah, which saith, "'By hearing ye shall hear, and shall in no wise understand; And seeing ye shall see, and shall in no wise perceive; For this people's heart is waxed gross, And their ears are dull of hearing, And their eyes they have closed; Lest haply they should perceive with their eyes. And hear with their ears, And understand with their heart, And should turn again, And I should heal them.' "But blessed are your eyes, for they see; and your ears, for they hear. For verily I say unto you, that many prophets and righteous men desired to see the things which ye see, and saw them not; and to hear the things which ye hear, and heard them not." And he saith unto them, "Know ye not this parable? and how, shall ye know all the parables? The sower soweth the word. The seed is the word of God. When any one heareth the word of the kingdom, and understandeth it not, then cometh the evil one, and snatcheth away that which hath been sown in his heart. This is he that was sown by the way side. And he that was sown upon the rocky places, this is he that heareth the word, and straightway with joy receiveth it; yet hath he not root in himself, but endureth for a while; and when tribulation or persecution ariseth because of the word, straightway he stumbleth. And he that was sown among the thorns, this is he that heareth the word; and the care of the world, and the deceitfulness of riches, and the pleasures of this life, choke the word, and he becometh unfruitful. And he that was sown upon the good ground, this is he that heareth the word in an honest and good heart, and understandeth it, who verily beareth fruit, and bringeth forth, some a hundredfold, some sixty, some thirty." THE TARES. Another parable set he before them, saying, "The kingdom of heaven is likened unto a man that sowed good seed in his field: but while men slept, his enemy came and sowed tares also among the wheat, and went away. But when the blade sprang up and brought forth fruit, then appeared the tares also. And the servants of the householder came and said unto him, 'Sir, didst thou not sow good seed in thy field? whence then hath it tares?' And he said unto them, 'An enemy hath done this.' And the servants say unto him, 'Wilt thou then that we go and gather them up?' But he saith, 'Nay; lest haply while ye gather up the tares, ye root up the wheat with them. Let both grow together until the harvest: and in the time of the harvest I will say to the reapers, Gather up first the tares, and bind them in bundles to burn them; but gather the wheat into my barn.'" THE GROWING GRAIN. And he said, "So is the kingdom of God, as if a man should cast seed upon the earth; and should sleep and rise night and day, and the seed should spring up and grow, he knoweth not how. The earth beareth fruit of herself; first the blade, then the ear, then the full grain in the ear. But when the fruit is ripe, straightway he putteth forth the sickle, because the harvest is come." THE MUSTARD SEED. And he said, "How shall we liken the kingdom of God? or in what parable shall we set it forth? It is like a grain of mustard seed, which, when it is sown upon the earth, though it be less than all the seeds that are upon the earth, yet when it is sown, groweth up, and becometh greater than all the herbs, and putteth out great branches; so that the birds of the heaven can lodge under the shadow thereof." THE LEAVEN. Another parable spake he unto them: "The kingdom of heaven is like unto leaven, which a woman took, and hid in three measures of meal, till it was all leavened." THE UNDERSTANDING OF PARABLES. All these things spake Jesus in parables unto the multitudes; and without a parable spake he nothing unto them: that it might be fulfilled which was spoken through the prophet, saying, "I will open my mouth in parables; I will utter things hidden from the foundation of the world." Then he left the multitudes, and went into the house: and his disciples came unto him, saying, "Explain unto us the parable of the tares of the field." And he answered and said, "He that soweth the good seed is the Son of man; and the field is the world; and the good seed, these are the sons of the kingdom; and the tares are the sons of the evil one; and the enemy that sowed them is the devil: and the harvest is the end of the world; and the reapers are angels. As therefore the tares are gathered up and burned with fire; so shall it be in the end of the world. The Son of man shall send forth his angels and they shall gather out of his kingdom all things that cause stumbling and them that do iniquity and shall cast them into the furnace of fire: there shall be the weeping and the gnashing of teeth. Then shall the righteous shine forth as the sun in the kingdom of their Father. He that hath ears let him hear." THE HID TREASURE. "The kingdom of heaven is like unto a treasure hidden in the field; which a man found, and hid; and in his joy he goeth and selleth all that he hath, and buyeth that field." THE PEARL OF GREAT PRICE. "Again, the kingdom of heaven is like unto a man that is a merchant seeking goodly pearls: and having found one pearl of great price, he went and sold all that he had, and bought it." THE DRAG NET. "Again, the kingdom of heaven is like unto a net, that was cast into the sea, and gathered of every kind: which, when it was filled, they drew up on the beach; and they sat down, and gathered the good into vessels, but the bad they cast away. So shall it be in the end of the world: the angels shall come forth, and sever the wicked from among the righteous, and shall cast them into the furnace of fire: there shall be the weeping and the gnashing of teeth. "Have ye understood all these things?" They say unto him, "Yea." And he said unto them, "Therefore every scribe who hath been made a disciple to the kingdom of heaven is like unto a man that is a householder, who bringeth forth out of his treasure things new and old." A DAY OF MIRACLES BY THE LAKE JESUS STILLS THE STORM. And on that day, when even was come, he saith unto them, "Let us go over unto the other side." And leaving the multitude, they take him with them, even as he was, in the boat. And other boats were with him. And there ariseth a great storm of wind, and the waves beat into the boat, insomuch that the boat was now filling. And he himself was in the stern, asleep on the cushion: and they awake him, and say unto him, "Save, Lord; we perish." And he awoke, and rebuked the wind, and said unto the sea, "Peace, be still." And the wind ceased, and there was a great calm. And he said unto them, "Why are ye fearful? have ye not yet faith?" And they feared exceedingly, and said one to another, "Who then is this, that even the wind and the sea obey him?" THE LEGION OF DEMONS. And they arrived at the country of the Gerasenes, which is over against Galilee. And when he was come forth upon the land, there met him a certain man out of the city, who had demons; and for a long time he had worn no clothes, and abode not in any house, but in the tombs. And when he saw Jesus, he cried out, and fell down before him, and with a loud voice said, "What have I to do with thee, Jesus, thou Son of the Most High God? I beseech thee, torment me not." For he was commanding the unclean spirit to come out from the man. For oftentimes it had seized him; and he was kept under guard, and bound with chains and fetters; and breaking the bands asunder, he was driven of the demon into the deserts. And Jesus asked him, "What is thy name?" And he said, "Legion;" for many demons were entered into him. And they entreated him that he would not command them to depart into the abyss. Now there was there a herd of many swine feeding on the mountain. And the demons besought him, saying, "If thou cast us out, send us away into the herd of swine." And he said unto them, "Go." And they came out, and went into the swine: and behold, the whole herd rushed down the steep into the sea, in number about two thousand; and they were drowned in the sea. And they that fed them fled, and told it in the city, and in the country. And they came to see what it was that had come to pass. And they come to Jesus, and behold him that was possessed with demons sitting, clothed and in his right mind, even him that had the legion: and they were afraid. And they that saw it declared unto them how it befell him that was possessed with demons, and concerning the swine. And they began to beseech him to depart from them; for they were holden with great fear. And as he was entering into the boat, he that had been possessed with demons besought him that he might be with him. And he suffered him not, but saith unto him, "Go to thy house unto thy friends, and tell them how great things the Lord hath done for thee, and how he had mercy on thee." And he went his way, and began to publish in Decapolis how great things Jesus had done for him: and all men marvelled. THE DYING CHILD AND THE SUFFERING WOMAN. And when Jesus had crossed over again in the boat unto the other side, the multitude welcomed him; for they were all waiting for him; and he was by the sea. And there cometh one of the rulers of the synagogue, Jairus by name; and seeing him, he falleth at his feet, and beseecheth him much, saying, "My little daughter is at the point of death: I pray thee, that thou come and lay thy hands on her, that she may be made whole, and live." And he went with him; and a great multitude followed him, and they thronged him. And a woman, who had an issue of blood twelve years, and had suffered many things of many physicians, and had spent all that she had, and was nothing bettered, but rather grew worse, having heard the things concerning Jesus, came in the crowd behind, and touched the border of his garment. For she said, "If I touch but his garments, I shall be made whole." And straightway the fountain of her blood was dried up; and she felt in her body that she was healed of her plague. And straightway Jesus, perceiving in himself that the power proceeding from him had gone forth, turned him about in the crowd, and said, "Who touched my garments?" And when all denied, Peter said, and they that were with him, "Master, the multitudes press thee and crush thee, and sayest thou, 'Who touched me?'" But Jesus said, "Some one did touch me; for I perceived that power had gone forth from me." And he looked round about to see her that had done this thing. And when the woman saw that she was not hid, she came trembling, and falling down before him declared in the presence of all the people for what cause she touched him, and how she was healed immediately. And he said unto her, "Daughter, thy faith hath made thee whole; go in peace, and be whole of thy plague." While he yet spake, they come from the ruler of the synagogue's house, saying, "Thy daughter is dead: why troublest thou the Teacher any further?" But Jesus, not heeding the word spoken, saith unto the ruler of the synagogue, "Fear not: only believe, and she shall be made whole." And he suffered no man to follow with him, save Peter, and James, and John the brother of James. And when Jesus came into the ruler's house, and saw the flute-players, and the crowd making a tumult, and many weeping and wailing greatly, he said, "Give place: why make ye a tumult and weep? the child is not dead, but sleepeth." And they laughed him to scorn, knowing that she was dead. But he, having put them all forth, taketh the father of the child and her mother and them that were with him, and goeth in where the child was. And taking the child by the hand, he saith unto her. "Talitha cumi;" which is, being interpreted, "Damsel, I say unto thee, Arise." And her spirit returned. And straightway the damsel rose up, and walked: for she was twelve years old. And they were amazed straightway with a great amazement. And he charged them much that no man should know this: and he commanded that something should be given her to eat. And the fame hereof went forth into all that land. HEALINGS BY THE WAY. And as Jesus passed by from thence, two blind men followed him, crying out, and saying, "Have mercy on us, thou son of David." And when he was come into the house, the blind men came to him: and Jesus saith unto them, "Believe ye that I am able to do this?" They say unto him, "Yea, Lord." Then touched he their eyes, saying, "According to your faith be it done unto you." And their eyes were opened. And Jesus strictly charged them, saying, "See that no man know it." But they went forth, and spread abroad his fame in all that land. And as they went forth, behold, there was brought to him a dumb man possessed with a demon. And when the demon was cast out, the dumb man spake: and the multitudes marvelled, saying, "It was never so seen in Israel." But the Pharisees said, "By the prince of the demons casteth he out demons." WIDER EVANGELIZATION OF GALILEE A VISIT TO HIS HOME. And he went out from thence; and he cometh into his own country to Nazareth, where he had been brought up; and his disciples follow him. And when the sabbath was come, he entered, as his custom was, into the synagogue, and stood up to read. And there was delivered unto him the book of the prophet Isaiah. And he opened the book, and found the place where it was written, "The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, Because he anointed me to preach good tidings to the poor; He hath sent me to proclaim release to the captives, And recovering of sight to the blind, To set at liberty them that are bruised, To proclaim the acceptable year of the Lord." And he closed the book, and gave it back to the attendant, and sat down: and the eyes of all in the synagogue were fastened on him. And he began to say unto them, "To-day hath this scripture been fulfilled in your ears." And all bare him witness, and wondered at the words of grace which proceeded out of his mouth: and they said, "Whence hath this man these things?" and, "What is the wisdom that is given unto this man, and what mean such mighty works wrought by his hands? Is not this the carpenter, the son of Mary, and brother of James, and Joses, and Judas, and Simon? and are not his sisters here with us?" And they were offended in him. And he said unto them, "Doubtless ye will say unto me this parable, Physician, heal thyself: whatsoever we have heard done at Capernaum, do also here in thine own country." And he said, "Verily I say unto you, A prophet is not without honor, save in his own country, and among his own kin, and in his own house. But of a truth I say unto you, There were many widows in Israel in the days of Elijah, when the heaven was shut up three years and six months, when there came a great famine over all the land; and unto none of them was Elijah sent, but only to Zarephath, in the land of Sidon, unto a woman that was a widow. And there were many lepers in Israel in the time of Elisha the prophet; and none of them was cleansed, but only Naaman the Syrian." And they were all filled with wrath in the synagogue, as they heard these things; and they rose up, and cast him forth out of the city, and led him unto the brow of the hill whereon their city was built, that they might throw him down headlong. But he passing through the midst of them went his way. And he could there do no mighty work, save that he laid his hands upon a few sick folk, and healed them. PREACHING IN THE VILLAGES. And Jesus went about all the cities and the villages, teaching in their synagogues, and preaching the gospel of the kingdom, and healing all manner of disease and all manner of sickness. But when he saw the multitudes, he was moved with compassion for them, because they were distressed and scattered, as sheep not having a shepherd. Then saith he unto his disciples, "The harvest indeed is plenteous, but the laborers are few. Pray ye therefore the Lord of the harvest, that he send forth laborers into his harvest." THE TWELVE SENT FORTH. And he calleth unto him his twelve disciples, and began to send them forth by two and two; and he gave them power and authority over unclean spirits, to cast them out, and to heal all manner of disease and all manner of sickness. And he charged them, saying, "Go not into any way of the Gentiles, and enter not into any city of the Samaritans: but go rather to the lost sheep of the house of Israel. And as ye go, preach, saying, 'The kingdom of heaven is at hand.' Heal the sick, raise the dead, cleanse the lepers, cast out demons: freely ye received, freely give. "Get you no gold, nor silver, nor brass in your purses. Take nothing for your journey, save a staff only; no bread, no wallet; neither have two coats, nor shoes, but go shod with sandals: for the laborer is worthy of his food. And into whatsoever city or village ye shall enter, search out who in it is worthy; and there abide till ye go forth. And as ye enter into the house, salute it. And if the house be worthy, let your peace come upon it: but if it be not worthy, let your peace return to you. And whosoever shall not receive you, nor hear your words, as ye go forth out of that house or that city, shake off the dust from your feet for a testimony against them. Verily I say unto you, It shall be more tolerable for the land of Sodom and Gomorrah in the day of judgment, than for that city. "Behold, I send you forth as sheep in the midst of wolves: be ye therefore wise as serpents, and harmless as doves. But beware of men: for they will deliver you up to councils, and in their synagogues they will scourge you; yea and before governors and kings shall ye be brought for my sake, for a testimony to them and to the Gentiles. But when they deliver you up, be not anxious how or what ye shall speak: for it shall be given you in that hour what ye shall speak. For it is not ye that speak, but the Spirit of your Father that speaketh in you. And brother shall deliver up brother to death, and the father his child: and children shall rise up against parents, and cause them to be put to death. And ye shall be hated of all men, for my name's sake: but he that endureth to the end, the same shall be saved. But when they persecute you in this city, flee into the next: for verily I say unto you, Ye shall not have gone through the cities of Israel, till the Son of man be come. "A disciple is not above his teacher, nor a servant above his lord. It is enough for the disciple that he be as his teacher, and the servant as his lord. If they have called the master of the house Beelzebub, how much more them of his household? Fear them not therefore: for there is nothing covered, that shall not be revealed; and hid, that shall not be known. What I tell you in the darkness, speak ye in the light; and what ye hear in the ear, proclaim upon the house-tops. And be not afraid of them that kill the body, but are not able to kill the soul: but rather fear him who is able to destroy both soul and body in hell. Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? and not one of them shall fall on the ground without your Father: but the very hairs of your head are all numbered. Fear not therefore: ye are of more value than many sparrows. Every one therefore who shall confess me before men, him will I also confess before my Father who is in heaven. But whosoever shall deny me before men, him will I also deny before my Father who is in heaven. "I came to cast fire upon the earth; and what do I desire, if it is already kindled? But I have a baptism to be baptized with; and how am I straitened till it be accomplished! "Think not that I came to send peace on the earth: I came not to send peace, but a sword. For there shall be from henceforth five in one house divided, three against two, and two against three. For I came to set a man at variance against his father, and the daughter against her mother, and the daughter in law against her mother in law: and a man's foes shall be they of his own household. He that loveth father or mother more than me is not worthy of me; and he that loveth son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me. And he that doth not take his cross and follow after me, is not worthy of me. He that findeth his life shall lose it; and he that loseth his life for my sake shall find it. "He that receiveth you receiveth me, and he that receiveth me receiveth him that sent me. He that receiveth a prophet in the name of a prophet shall receive a prophet's reward: and he that receiveth a righteous man in the name of a righteous man shall receive a righteous man's reward. And whosoever shall give to drink unto one of these little ones a cup of cold water only, in the name of a disciple, verily I say unto you he shall in no wise lose his reward." And they departed, and went throughout the villages, preaching the gospel, and healing everywhere. And they cast out many demons, and anointed with oil many that were sick, and healed them. And Jesus departed thence to teach and preach. And wheresoever he entered, into villages, or into cities, or into the country, they laid the sick in the marketplaces, and besought him that they might touch if it were but the border of his garment: and as many as touched him were made whole. At that season Herod the tetrarch heard the report concerning Jesus, and said unto his servants, "This is John the Baptist; he is risen from the dead; and therefore do these powers work in him." But others said, "It is Elijah." And others said, "It is a prophet, even as one of the prophets." But Herod, when he heard thereof, said, "John, whom I beheaded, he is risen." And he sought to see him. THE CRISIS IN CAPERNAUM THE FIVE THOUSAND FED. And the apostles, when they were returned unto Jesus, told him all things, whatsoever they had done, and whatsoever they had taught. Now the passover, the feast of the Jews, was at hand. And he saith unto them, "Come ye yourselves apart into a desert place, and rest a while." For there were many coming and going, and they had no leisure so much as to eat. And they went away in the boat to a desert place apart. And the people saw them going, and many knew them, and they ran together there on foot from all the cities, and outwent them. And he came forth and saw a great multitude. And he welcomed them, and spake to them of the kingdom of God, and them that had need of healing he cured. And he had compassion on them, because they were as sheep not having a shepherd. And the day began to wear away; and the twelve came, and said unto him, "Send the multitude away, that they may go into the villages and country round about, and lodge, and get provisions: for we are here in a desert place." But Jesus said unto them, "They have no need to go away: give ye them to eat." Philip answered him, "Two hundred shillings' worth of bread is not sufficient for them, that every one may take a little." Jesus saith unto them, "How many loaves have ye? go and see." One of his disciples, Andrew, Simon Peter's brother, saith unto him, "There is a lad here, who hath five barley loaves, and two fishes: but what are these among so many?" And Jesus said, "Bring them hither to me." And he commanded them that all should sit down by companies upon the green grass. Now there was much grass in the place. And they sat down in ranks, by hundreds, and by fifties. And he took the five loaves and the two fishes, and looking up to heaven, he blessed, and brake the loaves; and he gave to the disciples to set before them; and the two fishes divided he among them all. And they all ate, and were filled. And they took up broken pieces, twelve basketfuls, and also of the fishes. And they that ate the loaves were five thousand men. When therefore the people saw the sign which he did, they said, "This is of a truth the prophet that cometh into the world." Jesus therefore perceiving that they were about to come and take him by force, to make him king, constrained the disciples to enter into the boat, and to go before him unto the other side, till he should send the multitudes away. And after he had sent the multitudes away, he went up into the mountain apart to pray: and when even was come, he was there alone. JESUS WALKING ON THE WATER. And his disciples were going over the sea unto Capernaum. And it was now dark, and Jesus had not yet come to them. And the sea was rising by reason of a great wind that blew. And in the fourth watch of the night, when they had rowed about five and twenty or thirty furlongs, they behold Jesus walking on the sea, and drawing nigh unto the boat. And when the disciples saw him walking on the sea, they were troubled, saying, "It is a ghost;" and they cried out for fear. But straightway Jesus spake unto them, saying, "Be of good cheer; it is I; be not afraid." And Peter answered him and said, "Lord, if it be thou, bid me come unto thee upon the waters." And he said, "Come." And Peter went down from the boat, and walked upon the waters, to come to Jesus. But when he saw the wind, he was afraid; and beginning to sink, he cried out, saying, "Lord, save me." And immediately Jesus stretched forth his hand, and took hold of him, and saith unto him, "O thou of little faith, wherefore didst thou doubt?" And when they were gone up into the boat, the wind ceased: and they were sore amazed in themselves; for they understood not concerning the loaves, but their heart was hardened. And when they had crossed over, they came to the land unto Gennesaret, and moored to the shore. And when they were come out of the boat, straightway the people knew him, and ran round about that whole region, and began to carry about on their beds those that were sick, where they heard he was. THE DISAPPOINTMENT OF THE PEOPLE. On the morrow the multitude that stood on the other side of the sea saw that there was no other boat there, save one, and that Jesus entered not with his disciples into the boat, but that his disciples went away alone (howbeit there came boats from Tiberias nigh unto the place where they ate the bread after the Lord had given thanks): when the multitude therefore saw that Jesus was not there, neither his disciples, they themselves got into the boats, and came to Capernaum, seeking Jesus. And when they found him on the other side of the sea, they said unto him, "Rabbi, when camest thou hither?" Jesus answered them and said, "Verily, verily, I say unto you, Ye seek me, not because ye saw signs, but because ye ate of the loaves, and were filled. Work not for the food which perisheth, but for the food which abideth unto eternal life, which the Son of man shall give unto you; for him the Father, even God, hath sealed." They said therefore unto him, "What must we do, that we may work the works of God?" Jesus answered and said unto them, "This is the work of God, that ye believe on him whom he hath sent." They said therefore unto him, "What then doest thou for a sign, that we may see, and believe thee? what workest thou? Our fathers ate the manna in the wilderness; as it is written, 'He gave them bread out of heaven to eat.'" Jesus therefore said unto them, "Verily, verily, I say unto you, It was not Moses that gave you the bread out of heaven; but my Father giveth you the true bread out of heaven. For the bread of God is that which cometh down out of heaven, and giveth life unto the world." They said therefore unto him, "Lord, evermore give us this bread." Jesus said unto them, "I am the bread of life: he that cometh to me shall not hunger, and he that believeth on me shall never thirst. But I said unto you, that ye have seen me, and yet believe not. All that which the Father giveth me shall come unto me; and him that cometh to me I will in no wise cast out. For I am come down from heaven, not to do mine own will, but the will of him that sent me. And this is the will of him that sent me, that of all that which he hath given me I should lose nothing, but should raise it up at the last day. For this is the will of my Father, that every one that beholdeth the Son, and believeth on him, should have eternal life; and I will raise him up at the last day." The Jews therefore murmured concerning him, because he said, "I am the bread which came down out of heaven." And they said, "Is not this Jesus, the son of Joseph, whose father and mother we know? how doth he now say 'I am come down out of heaven'?" Jesus answered and said unto them, "Murmur not among yourselves. No man can come to me, except the Father that sent me draw him: and I will raise him up in the last day. It is written in the prophets, 'And they shall all be taught of God.' Every one that hath heard from the Father, and hath learned, cometh unto me. Not that any man hath seen the Father, save he that is from God, he hath seen the Father. Verily, verily, I say unto you, He that believeth hath eternal life. I am the bread of life. Your fathers ate the manna in the wilderness, and they died. This is the bread which cometh down out of heaven, that a man may eat thereof, and not die. I am the living bread which came down out of heaven: if any man eat of this bread, he shall live for ever: yea and the bread which I will give is my flesh, for the life of the world." The Jews therefore strove one with another, saying, "How can this man give us his flesh to eat?" Jesus therefore said unto them, "Verily, verily, I say unto you, Except ye eat the flesh of the Son of man and drink his blood, ye have not life in yourselves. He that eateth my flesh and drinketh my blood hath eternal life; and I will raise him up at the last day. For my flesh is meat indeed, and my blood is drink indeed. He that eateth my flesh and drinketh my blood abideth in me, and I in him. As the living Father sent me, and I live because of the Father; so he that eateth me, he also shall live because of me. This is the bread which came down out of heaven: not as the fathers ate, and died; he that eateth this bread shall live for ever." These things said he in the synagogue, as he taught in Capernaum. Many therefore of his disciples, when they heard this, said, "This is a hard saying; who can hear it?" But Jesus knowing in himself that his disciples murmured at this, said unto them, "Doth this cause you to stumble? What then if ye should behold the Son of man ascending where he was before? It is the spirit that giveth life; the flesh profiteth nothing: the words that I have spoken unto you are spirit, and are life. But there are some of you that believe not." For Jesus knew from the beginning who they were that believed not, and who it was that should betray him. And he said, "For this cause have I said unto you, that no man can come unto me, except it be given unto him of the Father." Upon this many of his disciples went back, and walked no more with him. Jesus said therefore unto the twelve, "Would ye also go away?" Simon Peter answered him, "Lord, to whom shall we go? thou hast the words of eternal life. And we have believed and know that thou art the Holy One of God." Jesus answered them, "Did not I choose you the twelve, and one of you is a devil?" Now he spake of Judas, the son of Simon Iscariot, for he it was that should betray him, being one of the twelve. REJECTION OF THE TRADITION OF THE ELDERS. And there are gathered together unto him the Pharisees, and certain of the scribes, who had come from Jerusalem, and had seen that some of his disciples ate their bread with defiled, that is, unwashen, hands. (For the Pharisees, and all the Jews, except they wash their hands diligently, eat not, holding the tradition of the elders; and when they come from the market-place, except they bathe themselves, they eat not; and many other things there are, which they have received to hold, washings of cups, and pots, and brasen vessels.) And the Pharisees and the scribes ask him, "Why walk not thy disciples according to the tradition of the elders, but eat their bread with defiled hands?" And he said unto them, "Well did Isaiah prophesy of you hypocrites, as it is written, 'This people honoreth me with their lips, But their heart is far from me. But in vain do they worship me, Teaching as their doctrines the precepts of men.' "Ye leave the commandment of God, and hold fast the tradition of men." And he said unto them, "Full well do ye reject the commandment of God, that ye may keep your tradition. For Moses said, 'Honor thy father and thy mother;' and, 'He that speaketh evil of father or mother, let him die the death;' but ye say, 'If a man shall say to his father or his mother, That wherewith thou mightest have been profited by me is Corban,' that is to say, Given to God; ye no longer suffer him to do aught for his father or his mother; making void the word of God by your tradition, which ye have delivered: and many such like things ye do." And he called to him the multitude again, and said unto them, "Hear me all of you, and understand: there is nothing from without the man, that going into him can defile him; but the things which proceed out of the man are those that defile the man." Then came the disciples, and said unto him, "Knowest thou that the Pharisees were offended, when they heard this saying?" But he answered and said, "Every plant which my heavenly Father planted not, shall be rooted up. Let them alone: they are blind guides. And if the blind guide the blind, both shall fall into a pit." And when he was entered into the house from the multitude, his disciples asked of him the parable. And he saith unto them, "Are ye also even yet without understanding? Perceive ye not, that whatsoever from without goeth into the man, it cannot defile him; because it goeth not into his heart, but into his belly, and goeth out into the draught?" This he said, making all meats clean. And he said, "That which proceedeth out of the man, that defileth the man. For from within, out of the heart of men, evil thoughts proceed, fornications, thefts, murders, adulteries, covetings, wickedness, deceit, false witness, lasciviousness, an evil eye, railing, pride, foolishness: all these evil things proceed from within, and defile the man; but to eat with unwashen hands defileth not the man." THE PLOT OF THE PHARISEES. And it came to pass on a sabbath, that he entered into the synagogue and taught: and there was a man there, and his right hand was withered. And the scribes and the Pharisees watched him, whether he would heal on the sabbath; that they might find how to accuse him. But he knew their thoughts; and he said to the man that had his hand withered, "Rise up, and stand forth in the midst." And he arose and stood forth. And Jesus said unto them, "I ask you, Is it lawful on the sabbath to do good, or to do harm? to save a life or to destroy it? What man shall there be of you, that shall have one sheep, and if this fall into a pit on the sabbath day, will he not lay hold on it, and lift it out? How much then is a man of more value than a sheep! Wherefore it is lawful to do good on the sabbath day." But they held their peace. And when he had looked round about on them with anger, being grieved at the hardening of their heart, he saith unto the man, "Stretch forth thy hand." And he stretched it forth; and his hand was restored whole, as the other. But they were filled with madness; and communed one with another what they might do to Jesus. And the Pharisees went out, and straightway with the Herodians took counsel against him, how they might destroy him. =HIS WITHDRAWAL WITH THE TWELVE= * * * * * THE MINISTRY BEYOND GALILEE THE PHOENICIAN RETIREMENT AND THE GENTILE CURE. And Jesus went out thence, and withdrew into the parts of Tyre and Sidon. And he entered into a house, and would have no man know it; and he could not be hid. But straightway a woman, whose little daughter had an unclean spirit, having heard of him, came and fell down at his feet. Now the woman was a Greek, a Syrophoenician by race. And she cried, saying, "Have mercy on me, O Lord, thou son of David; my daughter is grievously vexed with a demon." But he answered her not a word. And his disciples came and besought him, saying, "Send her away, for she crieth after us." But he answered and said, "I was not sent but unto the lost sheep of the house of Israel." But she came and worshipped him, saying, "Lord help me." And he said unto her, "Let the children first be filled: for it is not meet to take the children's bread and cast it to the dogs." But she answered and saith unto him, "Yea, Lord; even the dogs under the table eat of the children's crumbs." Then Jesus answered and said unto her, "O woman, great is thy faith: be it done unto thee as thou wilt. Go thy way; the demon is gone out of thy daughter." And she went away unto her house, and found the child laid upon the bed, and the demon gone out. MIRACLES AND MULTITUDES AGAIN. And again he went out from the borders of Tyre, and came through Sidon unto the sea of Galilee, through the midst of the borders of Decapolis. And he went up into the mountain, and sat there. And there came unto him great multitudes, having with them the lame, blind, dumb, maimed, and many others, and they cast them down at his feet; and he healed them; insomuch that the multitude wondered, when they saw the dumb speaking, the maimed whole, and the lame walking, and the blind seeing; and they glorified the God of Israel. And they bring unto him one that was deaf, and had an impediment in his speech; and they beseech him to lay his hand upon him. And he took him aside from the multitude privately, and put his fingers into his ears, and he spat, and touched his tongue; and looking up to heaven, he sighed, and saith unto him, "Ephphatha," that is, "Be opened." And his ears were opened, and the bond of his tongue was loosed, and he spake plain. And he charged them that they should tell no man; but the more he charged them, so much the more a great deal they published it. And they were beyond measure astonished, saying, "He hath done all things well; he maketh even the deaf to hear, and the dumb to speak." THE FOUR THOUSAND FED. In those days, when there was again a great multitude, and they had nothing to eat, he called unto him his disciples, and saith unto them, "I have compassion on the multitude, because they continue with me now three days, and have nothing to eat; and if I send them away fasting to their home, they will faint on the way; and some of them are come from far." And his disciples answered him, "Whence shall one be able to fill these men with bread here in a desert place?" And he asked them, "How many loaves have ye?" And they said, "Seven." And he commandeth the multitude to sit down on the ground: and he took the seven loaves, and having given thanks, he brake, and gave to his disciples, to set before them; and they set them before the multitude. And they had a few small fishes: and having blessed them, he commanded to set these also before them. And they ate and were filled: and they took up, of broken pieces that remained over, seven baskets. And they were about four thousand men, besides women and children. And he sent away the multitudes, and entered into the boat, and came into the borders of Magadan. THE PHARISEES AND SADUCCEES DEMAND A SIGN. And the Pharisees and Sadducees came forth, and began to question with him, seeking of him a sign from heaven, trying him. But he answered and said unto them, "When it is evening, ye say, 'It will be fair weather,' for the heaven is red. And in the morning, 'It will be foul weather to-day,' for the heaven is red and lowering. Ye know how to discern the face of the heaven; but ye cannot discern the signs of the times." And he sighed deeply in his spirit, and saith. "Why doth this generation seek a sign? verily I say unto you, There shall no sign be given unto this generation." And he left them, and again entering into the boat departed to the other side. And they forgot to take bread; and they had not in the boat with them more than one loaf. And he charged them, saying, "Take heed, beware of the leaven of the Pharisees and the leaven of Herod." And they reasoned one with another, saying, "We have no bread." And Jesus perceiving it saith unto them, "O ye of little faith, why reason ye among yourselves, because ye have no bread? Do ye not yet perceive, neither understand? have ye your heart hardened? Having eyes, see ye not? and having ears, hear ye not? and do ye not remember? When I brake the five loaves among the five thousand, how many baskets full of broken pieces took ye up?" They say unto him, "Twelve." "And when the seven among the four thousand, how many basketfuls of broken pieces took ye up?" And they say unto him, "Seven." And he said unto them, "How is it that ye do not perceive that I spake not to you concerning bread? But beware of the leaven of the Pharisees and Sadducees." Then understood they that he bade them not beware of the leaven of bread, but of the teaching of the Pharisees and Sadducees. THE BLIND MAN HEALED. And they come unto Bethsaida. And they bring to him a blind man, and beseech him to touch him. And he took hold of the blind man by the hand, and brought him out of the village; and when he had spit on his eyes, and laid his hands upon him, he asked him, "Seest thou aught?" And he looked up, and said, "I see men; for I behold them as trees, walking." Then again he laid his hands upon his eyes; and he looked stedfastly, and was restored, and saw all things clearly. And he sent him away to his home, saying, "Do not even enter into the village." JESUS THE MESSIAH PETER'S CONFESSION. And Jesus went forth, and his disciples, into the villages of Cæsarea Philippi. And it came to pass, as he was praying apart, the disciples were with him: and he asked them, saying, "Who do the multitudes say that I am?" And they answering, said, "Some say John the Baptist; some Elijah; and others, Jeremiah; and others, that one of the old prophets is risen again." And he said unto them, "But who say ye that I am?" And Simon Peter answered and said, "Thou art the Christ, the Son of the living God." And Jesus answered and said unto him, "Blessed art thou, Simon Bar-Jonah: for flesh and blood hath not revealed it unto thee, but my Father who is in heaven. And I also say unto thee, that thou art Peter, and upon this rock I will build my church; and the gates of Hades shall not prevail against it. I will give unto thee the keys of the kingdom of heaven: and whatsoever thou shalt bind on earth shall be bound in heaven; and whatsoever thou shalt loose on earth shall be loosed in heaven." Then charged he the disciples that they should tell no man that he was the Christ. THE PASSION AND RESURRECTION FORETOLD. From that time began Jesus to show unto his disciples, that he must go unto Jerusalem, and suffer many things and be rejected by the elders, and the chief priests, and the scribes, and be killed, and after three days rise again. And he spake the saying openly. And Peter took him, and began to rebuke him, saying, "Be it far from thee, Lord: this shall never be unto thee." But he turning about, and seeing his disciples, rebuked Peter, and saith, "Get thee behind me, Satan: thou art a stumbling-block unto me: for thou mindest not the things of God, but the things of men." And he called unto him the multitude with his disciples, and said unto them, "If any man would come after me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross daily, and follow me. For whosoever would save his life shall lose it; and whosoever shall lose his life for my sake and the gospel's shall save it. For what doth it profit a man to gain the whole world, and forfeit his life? For what should a man give in exchange for his life? For whosoever shall be ashamed of me and of my words in this adulterous and sinful generation, the Son of man also shall be ashamed of him, when he cometh in his own glory, and the glory of the Father, and of the holy angels. But I tell you of a truth, There are some of them that stand here, who shall in no wise taste of death, till they see the kingdom of God come with power." THE TRANSFIGURATION. And it came to pass about eight days after these sayings, that he took with him Peter and John and James, and went up into the mountain to pray. And as he was praying he was transfigured before them; and his face did shine as the sun, and his garments became glistering, white as the light, so as no fuller on earth can whiten them. And behold, there talked with him two men, who were Moses and Elijah; who appeared in glory, and spake of his decease which he was about to accomplish at Jerusalem. Now Peter and they that were with him were heavy with sleep; but when they were fully awake, they saw his glory, and the two men that stood with him. And it came to pass, as they were parting from him, Peter said unto Jesus, "Master, it is good for us to be here: and let us make three tabernacles; one for thee, and one for Moses, and one for Elijah:" not knowing what he said. While he was yet speaking, behold, a bright cloud overshadowed them: and they feared as they entered into the cloud. And behold, a voice out of the cloud, saying, "This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased; hear ye him." And when the disciples heard it, they fell on their face, and were sore afraid. And Jesus came and touched them and said, "Arise, and be not afraid." And suddenly looking round about, they saw no one any more, save Jesus only with themselves. And as they were coming down from the mountain, he charged them that they should tell no man what things they had seen, save when the Son of man should have risen again from the dead. And they kept the saying, questioning among themselves what the rising again from the dead should mean. And they asked him, saying, "How is it that the scribes say that Elijah must first come?" And he said unto them, "Elijah indeed cometh first, and restoreth all things: and how is it written of the Son of man, that he should suffer many things and be set at nought? But I say unto you, that Elijah is come, and they have also done unto him whatsoever they would even as it is written of them." Then understood the disciples that he spake unto them of John the Baptist. THE EPILEPTIC BOY. And when they came to the disciples, they saw a great multitude about them, and scribes questioning with them. And straightway all the multitude, when they saw him, were greatly amazed, and running to him saluted him. And he asked them, "What question ye with them?" And one of the multitude came to him kneeling, and saying, "Teacher, I beseech thee to look upon my son: for he is mine only child: and behold, he hath a dumb spirit; and wheresoever it taketh him, it dasheth him down: and he foameth, and grindeth his teeth, and pineth away: for he is epileptic, and suffereth grievously; for oft-times he falleth into the fire, and oft-times into the water. And I brought him to thy disciples, and they could not cure him." And Jesus answered and said, "O faithless and perverse generation, how long shall I be with you? how long shall I bear with you? Bring hither thy son." And they brought him unto him: and when he saw him, straightway the spirit tare him grievously; and he fell on the ground, and wallowed foaming. And he asked his father, "How long time is it since this hath come unto him?" And he said, "From a child. And oft-times it hath cast him both into the fire and into the waters, to destroy him: but if thou canst do anything, have compassion on us, and help us." And Jesus said unto him, "If thou canst! All things are possible to him that believeth." Straightway the father of the child cried out and said, "I believe; help thou mine unbelief." And when Jesus saw that a multitude came running together, he rebuked the unclean spirit, saying unto him, "Thou dumb and deaf spirit, I command thee, come out of him, and enter no more into him." And having cried out, and torn him much, he came out: and the boy became as one dead; insomuch that the more part said, "He is dead." But Jesus took him by the hand, and raised him up; and he arose, and Jesus gave him back to his father. And they were all astonished at the majesty of God. And when he was come into the house, his disciples asked him privately, "How is it that we could not cast it out?" And he said unto them, "This kind can come out by nothing, save by prayer. Verily I say unto you, If ye have faith as a grain of mustard seed, ye shall say unto this mountain, 'Remove hence to yonder place,' and it shall remove; and nothing shall be impossible unto you." THE TRAINING OF THE TWELVE THE PASSION AND RESURRECTION AGAIN FORETOLD. And they went forth from thence, and passed through Galilee; and he would not that any man should know it. For he taught his disciples, and said unto them, "Let these words sink into your ears: for the Son of man shall be delivered up into the hands of men, and they shall kill him; and when he is killed, after three days he shall rise again." But they understood not the saying, and were afraid to ask him. THE GREATEST DISCIPLE. And they came to Capernaum: and when he was in the house he asked them, "What were ye reasoning on the way?" But they held their peace: for they had disputed one with another on the way, who was the greatest. And he sat down, and called the twelve; and he said unto them, "If any man would be first, he shall be last of all, and servant of all." And he took a little child, and set him in the midst of them: and taking him in his arms, he said unto them, "Verily I say unto you, Except ye turn, and become as little children, ye shall in no wise enter into the kingdom of heaven. Whosoever therefore shall humble himself as this little child, the same is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven. And whoso shall receive one such little child in my name receiveth me: and whosoever receiveth me, receiveth not me, but him that sent me." John said unto him, "Teacher, we saw one casting out demons in thy name; and we forbade him, because he followed not us." But Jesus said, "Forbid him not: for there is no man who shall do a mighty work in my name, and be able quickly to speak evil of me. For he that is not against us is for us. For whosoever shall give you a cup of water to drink, because ye are Christ's, verily I say unto you, he shall in no wise lose his reward. But whoso shall cause one of these little ones that believe on me to stumble, it is profitable for him that a great mill-stone should be hanged about his neck, and that he should be sunk in the depth of the sea. "Woe unto the world because of occasions of stumbling! for it must needs be that the occasions come; but woe to that man through whom the occasion cometh! And if thy hand or thy foot causeth thee to stumble, cut it off, and cast it from thee: it is good for thee to enter into life maimed or halt, rather than having two hands or two feet to be cast into the eternal fire. And if thine eye causeth thee to stumble, pluck it out, and cast it from thee: it is good for thee to enter into life with one eye, rather than having two eyes to be cast into the hell of fire, where their worm dieth not, and the fire is not quenched. For every one shall be salted with fire. Salt is good; but if the salt have lost its saltness, wherewith will ye season it? Have salt in yourselves, and be at peace one with another. "See that ye despise not one of these little ones: for I say unto you, that in heaven their angels do always behold the face of my Father who is in heaven. How think ye? if any man have a hundred sheep, and one of them be gone astray, doth he not leave the ninety and nine, and go unto the mountains, and seek that which goeth astray? And if so be that he find it, verily I say unto you, he rejoiceth over it more than over the ninety and nine which have not gone astray. Even so it is not the will of your Father who is in heaven, that one of these little ones should perish. FORGIVENESS. "And if thy brother sin against thee, go, show him his fault between thee and him alone: if he hear thee, thou hast gained thy brother. But if he hear thee not, take with thee one or two more, that at the mouth of two witnesses or three every word may be established. And if he refuse to hear them, tell it unto the church: and if he refuse to hear the church also, let him be unto thee as the Gentile and the publican. Verily I say unto you, What things soever ye shall bind on earth shall be bound in heaven; and what things soever ye shall loose on earth shall be loosed in heaven. Again I say unto you, that if two of you shall agree on earth as touching anything that they shall ask, it shall be done for them of my Father who is in heaven. For where two or three are gathered together in my name, there am I, in the midst of them." Then came Peter and said to him, "Lord, how oft shall my brother sin against me, and I forgive him? until seven times?" Jesus saith unto him, "I say not unto thee, Until seven times; but, Until seventy times seven. Therefore is the kingdom of heaven likened unto a certain king, who would make a reckoning with his servants. And when he had begun to reckon, one was brought unto him, that owed him ten thousand talents. But forasmuch as he had not wherewith to pay, his lord commanded him to be sold, and his wife, and children, and all that he had, and payment to be made. The servant therefore fell down and worshipped him, saying, 'Lord, have patience with me, and I will pay thee all.' And the lord of that servant, being moved with compassion, released him, and forgave him the debt. But that servant went out, and found one of his fellow-servants, who owed him a hundred shillings: and he laid hold on him, and took him by the throat, saying, 'Pay what thou owest.' So his fellow-servant fell down and besought him, saying, 'Have patience with me, and I will pay thee.' And he would not: but went and cast him into prison, till he should pay that which was due. So when his fellow-servants saw what was done, they were exceeding sorry, and came and told unto their lord all that was done. Then his lord called him unto him, and saith to him, 'Thou wicked servant, I forgave thee all that debt, because thou besoughtest me: shouldst not thou also have had mercy on thy fellow-servant, even as I had mercy on thee?' And his lord was wroth, and delivered him to the tormentors, till he should pay all that was due. So shall also my heavenly Father do unto you, if ye forgive not every one his brother from your hearts." THE SHEKEL FOR THE TEMPLE. And they that received the half-shekel came to Peter, and said "Doth not your teacher pay the half-shekel?" He saith, "Yea." And when he came into the house, Jesus spake first to him, saying, "What thinkest thou, Simon? the kings of the earth, from whom do they receive toll or tribute? from their sons, or from strangers?" And when he said, "From strangers," Jesus said unto him, "Therefore, the sons are free. But, lest we cause them to stumble, go thou to the sea, and cast a hook, and take up the fish that first cometh up; and when thou hast opened his mouth, thou shalt find a shekel: that take, and give unto them for me and thee." =HIS FACE TOWARD JERUSALEM= * * * * * THE FINAL DEPARTURE FROM GALILEE THE BEGINNING OF THE END. Now the feast of the Jews, the feast of tabernacles, was at hand. His brethren therefore said unto him, "Depart hence, and go into Judæa, that thy disciples also may behold thy works which thou doest. For no man doeth anything in secret, and himself seeketh to be known openly. If thou doest these things, manifest thyself to the world." For even his brethren did not believe on him. Jesus therefore saith unto them, "My time is not yet come; but your time is always ready. The world cannot hate you; but me it hateth, because I testify of it, that its works are evil. Go ye up unto the feast; I go not up yet unto this feast; because my time is not yet fulfilled." And having said these things unto them, he abode still in Galilee. And it came to pass, when the days were well-nigh come that he should be received up, he stedfastly set his face to go to Jerusalem, and sent messengers before his face: and they went, and entered into a village of the Samaritans, to make ready for him. And they did not receive him, because his face was as though he were going to Jerusalem. And when his disciples James and John saw this, they said, "Lord, wilt thou that we bid fire to come down from heaven, and consume them?" But he turned, and rebuked them. And they went to another village. THE GRATEFUL SAMARITAN LEPER. And it came to pass, as they were on the way to Jerusalem, that he was passing along the borders of Samaria and Galilee. And as he entered into a certain village, there met him ten men that were lepers, who stood afar off: and they lifted up their voices, saying, "Jesus, Master, have mercy on us." And when he saw them, he said unto them, "Go and show yourselves unto the priests." And it came to pass, as they went, they were cleansed. And one of them, when he saw that he was healed, turned back, with a loud voice glorifying God; and he fell upon his face at his feet, giving him thanks: and he was a Samaritan. And Jesus answering said, "Were not the ten cleansed? but where are the nine? Were there none found that returned to give glory to God, save this stranger?" And he said unto him, "Arise, and go thy way: thy faith hath made thee whole." NEW DISCIPLES. And as they went on the way, a certain scribe said unto him, "I will follow thee whithersoever thou goest." And Jesus said unto him, "The foxes have holes, and the birds of the heaven have nests; but the Son of man hath not where to lay his head." And he said unto another, "Follow me." But he said, "Lord, suffer me first to go and bury my father." But he said unto him, "Leave the dead to bury their own dead; but go thou and publish abroad the kingdom of God." And another also said, "I will follow thee, Lord; but first suffer me to bid farewell to them that are at my house." But Jesus said unto him, "No man, having put his hand to the plow, and looking back, is fit for the kingdom of God." IN JERUSALEM--THE ATTEMPT TO STONE HIM JESUS AT THE FEAST OF TABERNACLES. Then went he up unto the feast, not publicly, but as it were in secret. The Jews therefore sought him at the feast, and said, "Where is he?" And there was much murmuring among the multitudes concerning him: some said, "He is a good man;" others said, "Not so, but he leadeth the multitude astray." Yet no man spake openly of him for fear of the Jews. But when it was now the midst of the feast Jesus went up into the temple, and taught. The Jews therefore marvelled, saying, "How knoweth this man letters, having never learned?" Jesus therefore answered them, and said, "My teaching is not mine, but his that sent me. If any man willeth to do his will, he shall know of the teaching, whether it is of God, or whether I speak from myself. He that speaketh from himself seeketh his own glory: but he that seeketh the glory of him that sent him, the same is true, and no unrighteousness is in him. Did not Moses give you the law, and yet none of you doeth the law? Why seek ye to kill me?" The multitude answered, "Thou hast a demon: who seeketh to kill thee?" Jesus answered and said unto them, "I did one work, and ye all marvel because thereof. Moses hath given you circumcision (not that it is of Moses, but of the fathers); and on the sabbath ye circumcise a man. If a man receiveth circumcision on the sabbath, that the law of Moses may not be broken; are ye wroth with me, because I made a man every whit whole on the sabbath? Judge not according to appearance, but judge righteous judgment." Some therefore of them of Jerusalem said, "Is not this he whom they seek to kill? And lo, he speaketh openly, and they say nothing unto him. Can it be that the rulers indeed know that this is the Christ? Howbeit we know this man whence he is; but when the Christ cometh, no one knoweth whence he is." Jesus therefore cried in the temple, teaching and saying, "Ye both know me, and know whence I am; and I am not come of myself, but he that sent me is true, whom ye know not. I know him: because I am from him, and he sent me." They sought therefore to take him: and no man laid his hand on him, because his hour was not yet come. But of the multitude many believed on him; and they said, "When the Christ shall come, will he do more signs than those which this man hath done?" The Pharisees heard the multitude murmuring these things concerning him; and the chief priests and the Pharisees sent officers to take him. Jesus therefore said, "Yet a little while am I with you, and I go unto him that sent me. Ye shall seek me, and shall not find me: and where I am, ye can not come." The Jews therefore said among themselves, "Whither will this man go that we shall not find him? will he go unto the Dispersion among the Greeks, and teach the Greeks? What is this word that he said, 'Ye shall seek me, and shall not find me; and where I am, ye cannot come'?" Now on the last day, the great day of the feast, Jesus stood and cried, saying, "If any man thirst, let him come unto me and drink. He that believeth on me, as the scripture hath said, from within him shall flow rivers of living water." But this spake he of the Spirit, which they that believed on him were to receive: for the Spirit was not yet given; because Jesus was not yet glorified. Some of the multitude therefore, when they heard these words, said, "This is of a truth the prophet." Others said, "This is the Christ." But some said, "What, doth the Christ come out of Galilee? Hath not the scripture said that the Christ cometh of the seed of David, and from Bethlehem, the village where David was?" So there arose a division in the multitude because of him. And some of them would have taken him; but no man laid hands on him. The officers therefore came to the chief priests and Pharisees; and they said unto them, "Why did ye not bring him?" The officers answered, "Never man so spake." The Pharisees therefore answered them, "Are ye also led astray? Hath any of the rulers believed on him, or of the Pharisees? But this multitude that knoweth not the law are accursed." Nicodemus saith unto them (he that came to him before, being one of them), "Doth our law judge a man, except it first hear from himself and know what he doeth?" They answered and said unto him, "Art thou also of Galilee? Search, and see that out of Galilee ariseth no prophet." JESUS AND THE ACCUSED WOMAN. And they went every man unto his own house: but Jesus went unto the mount of Olives. And early in the morning he came again into the temple, and all the people came unto him; and he sat down, and taught them. And the scribes and the Pharisees bring a woman taken in adultery; and having set her in the midst, they say unto him, "Teacher, this woman hath been taken in adultery, in the very act. Now in the law Moses commanded us to stone such: what then sayest thou of her?" And this they said, trying him, that they might have whereof to accuse him. But Jesus stooped down, and with his finger wrote on the ground. But when they continued asking him, he lifted up himself and said unto them, "He that is without sin among you, let him first cast a stone at her." And again he stooped down, and with his finger wrote on the ground. And they, when they heard it, went out one by one, beginning from the eldest, even unto the last: and Jesus was left alone, and the woman, where she was, in the midst. And Jesus lifted up himself, and said unto her, "Woman, where are they? did no man condemn thee?" And she said, "No man, Lord." And Jesus said, "Neither do I condemn thee: go thy way; from henceforth sin no more." THE LIGHT OF THE WORLD. Again therefore Jesus spake unto them, saying, "I am the light of the world: he that followeth me shall not walk in the darkness, but shall have the light of life." The Pharisees therefore said unto him, "Thou bearest witness of thyself; thy witness is not true." Jesus answered and said unto them, "Even if I bear witness of myself, my witness is true; for I know whence I came, and whither I go; but ye know not whence I come, or whither I go. Ye judge after the flesh; I judge no man. Yea and if I judge, my judgment is true; for I am not alone, but I and the Father that sent me. Yea and in your law it is written, that the witness of two men is true. I am he that beareth witness of myself, and the Father that sent me beareth witness of me." They said therefore unto him, "Where is thy Father?" Jesus answered, "Ye know neither me, nor my Father: if ye knew me, ye would know my Father also." These words spake he in the treasury, as he taught in the temple: and no man took him; because his hour was not yet come. He said therefore again unto them, "I go away, and ye shall seek me, and shall die in your sin: whither I go, ye cannot come." The Jews therefore said, "Will he kill himself, that he saith, 'Whither I go, ye cannot come?'" And he said unto them, "Ye are from beneath; I am from above: ye are of this world; I am not of this world. I said therefore unto you, that ye shall die in your sins: for except ye believe that I am he, ye shall die in your sins." They said therefore unto him, "Who art thou?" Jesus said unto them, "Even that which I have also spoken unto you from the beginning I have many things to speak and to judge concerning you; howbeit he that sent me is true; and the things which I heard from him, these speak I unto the world." They perceived not that he spake to them of the Father. Jesus therefore said, "When ye have lifted up the Son of man, then shall ye know that I am he, and that I do nothing of myself, but as the Father taught me, I speak these things. And he that sent me is with me; he hath not left me alone; for I do always the things that are pleasing to him." As he spake these things, many believed on him. THE FREEDOM OF THE SOUL. Jesus therefore said to those Jews that had believed him, "If ye abide in my word, then are ye truly my disciples; and ye shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you free." They answered unto him, "We are Abraham's seed, and have never yet been in bondage to any man; how sayest thou, 'Ye shall be made free'?" Jesus answered them, "Verily, verily, I say unto you, Every one that committeth sin is the bondservant of sin. And the bondservant abideth not in the house for ever: the son abideth for ever. If therefore the Son shall make you free, ye shall be free indeed. I know that ye are Abraham's seed; yet ye seek to kill me, because my word hath not free course in you. I speak the things which I have seen with my Father: and ye also do the things which ye heard from your father." They answered and said unto him, "Our father is Abraham." Jesus saith unto them, "If ye were Abraham's children, ye would do the works of Abraham. But now ye seek to kill me, a man that hath told you the truth, which I heard from God: this did not Abraham. Ye do the works of your father." They said unto him, "We were not born of fornication; we have one Father, even God." Jesus said unto them, "If God were your Father, ye would love me: for I came forth and am come from God; for neither have I come of myself, but he sent me. Why do ye not understand my speech? Even because ye cannot hear my word. Ye are of your father the devil, and the lusts of your father it is your will to do. He was a murderer from the beginning, and standeth not in the truth, because there is no truth in him. When he speaketh a lie, he speaketh of his own: for he is a liar, and the father thereof. But because I say the truth, ye believe me not. Which of you convicteth me of sin? If I say truth, why do ye not believe me? He that is of God heareth the words of God: for this cause ye hear them not, because ye are not of God." The Jews answered and said unto him, "Say we not well that thou art a Samaritan, and hast a demon?" Jesus answered, "I have not a demon: but I honor my Father, and ye dishonor me. But I seek not mine own glory: there is one that seeketh and judgeth. Verily, verily, I say unto you, If a man keep my word, he shall never see death." The Jews said unto him, "Now we know that thou hast a demon. Abraham died, and the prophets; and thou sayest, 'If a man keep my word, he shall never taste of death.' Art thou greater than our father Abraham, who died? and the prophets died: whom makest thou thyself?" Jesus answered, "If I glorify myself, my glory is nothing: it is my Father that glorifieth me; of whom ye say, that he is your God; and ye have not known him: but I know him; and if I should say, 'I know him not,' I shall be like unto you, a liar; but I know him, and keep his word. Your father Abraham rejoiced to see my day; and he saw it, and was glad." The Jews therefore said unto him, "Thou art not yet fifty years old, and hast thou seen Abraham?" Jesus said unto them, "Verily, verily, I say unto you. Before Abraham was born, I am." They took up stones therefore to cast at him; but Jesus hid himself, and went out of the temple. THE MINISTRY IN PEREA THE MISSION OF THE SEVENTY. And he arose and cometh into the borders of Judæa and beyond the Jordan; and great multitudes followed him; and he healed them there. And the Lord appointed seventy others, and sent them two and two before his face into every city and place, whither he himself was about to come. And he said unto them, "The harvest indeed is plenteous, but the laborers are few; pray ye therefore the Lord of the harvest, that he send forth laborers into his harvest. Go your ways; behold, I send you forth as lambs into the midst of wolves. Carry no purse, no wallet, no shoes; and salute no man on the way. And into whatsoever house ye shall enter, first say, 'Peace be to this house.' And if a son of peace be there, your peace shall rest upon him; but if not, it shall turn to you again. And in that same house remain, eating and drinking such things as they give: for the laborer is worthy of his hire. Go not from house to house. And into whatsoever city ye enter, and they receive you, eat such things as are set before you: and heal the sick that are therein, and say unto them, 'The kingdom of God is come nigh unto you.' But into whatsoever city ye shall enter, and they receive you not, go out into the streets thereof and say, 'Even the dust from your city, that cleaveth to our feet, we wipe off against you: nevertheless know this, that the kingdom of God is come nigh.' I say unto you, It shall be more tolerable in that day for Sodom, than for that city. He that heareth you heareth me; and he that rejecteth you rejecteth me; and he that rejecteth me rejecteth him that sent me." THE RETURN OF THE SEVENTY. And the seventy returned with joy, saying, "Lord, even the demons are subject unto us in thy name." And he said unto them, "I beheld Satan fallen as lightning from heaven. Behold, I have given you authority to tread upon serpents and scorpions, and over all the power of the enemy: and nothing shall in any wise hurt you. Nevertheless in this rejoice not, that the spirits are subject unto you: but rejoice that your names are written in heaven." THE MEEK AND LOWLY. In that same hour he rejoiced in the Holy Spirit, and said, "I thank thee, O Father, Lord of heaven and earth, that thou didst hide these things from the wise and understanding, and didst reveal them unto babes; yea, Father; for so it was well-pleasing in thy sight. All things have been delivered unto me of my Father: and no one knoweth who the Son is, save the Father; and who the Father is, save the Son, and he to whomsoever the Son willeth to reveal him." And turning to the disciples, he said privately, "Blessed are the eyes which see the things that ye see: for I say unto you, that many prophets and kings desired to see the things which ye see, and saw them not; and to hear the things which ye hear, and heard them not. "Come unto me, all ye that labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me; for I am meek and lowly in heart: and ye shall find rest unto your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light." THE UNREPENTANT CITIES. Then began he to upbraid the cities wherein most of his mighty works were done, because they repented not. "Woe unto thee, Chorazin! woe unto thee, Bethsaida! for if the mighty works had been done in Tyre and Sidon which were done in you, they would have repented long ago in sackcloth and ashes. But I say unto you, it shall be more tolerable for Tyre and Sidon in the day of judgment, than for you. And thou, Capernaum, shalt thou be exalted unto heaven? thou shalt go down unto Hades: for if the mighty works had been done in Sodom which were done in thee, it would have remained until this day. But I say unto you that it shall be more tolerable for the land of Sodom in the day of judgment, than for thee." THE GOOD SAMARITAN. And behold, a certain lawyer stood up and made trial of him, saying, "Teacher, what shall I do to inherit eternal life?" And he said unto him, "What is written in the law? how readest thou?" And he answering said, "Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy strength, and with all thy mind; and thy neighbor as thyself." And he said unto him, "Thou hast answered right: this do and thou shalt live." But he, desiring to justify himself, said unto Jesus, "And who is my neighbor?" Jesus made answer and said, "A certain man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho; and he fell among robbers, who both stripped him and beat him, and departed, leaving him half dead. And by chance a certain priest was going down that way: and when he saw him, he passed by on the other side. And in like manner a Levite also, when he came to the place, and saw him, passed by on the other side. But a certain Samaritan, as he journeyed, came where he was: and when he saw him, he was moved with compassion, and came to him, and bound up his wounds, pouring on them oil and wine; and he set him on his own beast, and brought him to an inn, and took care of him. And on the morrow he took out two shillings, and gave them to the host, and said, 'Take care of him: and whatsoever thou spendest more, I, when I come back again, will repay thee.' Which of these three, thinkest thou, proved neighbor unto him that fell among the robbers?" And he said, "He that showed mercy on him." And Jesus said unto him, "Go, and do thou likewise." IN JERUSALEM--THE ATTEMPT TO ARREST HIM. THE FRIENDS AT BETHANY. Now as they went on their way, he entered into a certain village: and a certain woman named Martha received him into her house. And she had a sister called Mary, who also sat at the Lord's feet and heard his word. But Martha was cumbered about much serving; and she came up to him, and said, "Lord, dost thou not care that my sister did leave me to serve alone? bid her therefore that she help me." But the Lord answered and said unto her, "Martha, Martha, thou art anxious and troubled about many things: but one thing is needful: for Mary hath chosen the good part, which shall not be taken away from her." A MIRACLE IN JERUSALEM. And as he passed by, he saw a man blind from his birth. And his disciples asked him, saying, "Rabbi, who sinned, this man, or his parents, that he should be born blind?" Jesus answered, "Neither did this man sin, nor his parents: but that the works of God should be made manifest in him. We must work the works of him that sent me, while it is day: the night cometh, when no man can work. When I am in the world, I am the light of the world." When he had thus spoken he spat on the ground, and made clay of the spittle, and anointed his eyes with the clay, and said unto him, "Go, wash in the pool of Siloam" (which is by interpretation, Sent). He went away therefore, and washed, and came seeing. The neighbors therefore, and they that saw him aforetime, that he was a beggar, said, "Is not this he that sat and begged?" Others said, "It is he:" others said, "No, but he is like him." He said, "I am he." They said therefore unto him, "How then were thine eyes opened?" He answered, "The man that is called Jesus made clay and anointed mine eyes, and said unto me, 'Go to Siloam, and wash:' so I went away and washed, and I received sight." And they said unto him, "Where is he?" He saith, "I know not." They bring to the Pharisees him that aforetime was blind. Now it was the sabbath on the day when Jesus made the clay, and opened his eyes. Again therefore the Pharisees also asked him how he received his sight. And he said unto them, "He put clay upon mine eyes, and I washed, and I see." Some therefore of the Pharisees said. "This man is not from God, because he keepeth not the sabbath." But others said, "How can a man that is a sinner do such signs?" And there was a division among them. They say therefore unto the blind man again, "What sayest thou of him, in that he opened thine eyes?" And he said, "He is a prophet." The Jews therefore did not believe concerning him, that he had been blind, and had received his sight, until they called the parents of him that had received his sight, and asked them, saying, "Is this your son, who ye say was born blind? how then doth he now see?" His parents answered and said, "We know that this is our son, and that he was born blind: but how he now seeth, we know not; or who opened his eyes, we know not: ask him; he is of age; he shall speak for himself." These things said his parents, because they feared the Jews; for the Jews had agreed already, that if any man should confess him to be Christ, he should be put out of the synagogue. Therefore said his parents, "He is of age; ask him." So they called a second time the man that was blind, and said unto him, "Give glory to God: we know that this man is a sinner." He therefore answered, "Whether he is a sinner, I know not: one thing I know, that, whereas I was blind, now I see." They said therefore unto him, "What did he to thee? how opened he thine eyes." He answered them, "I told you even now, and ye did not hear; wherefore would ye hear it again? would ye also become his disciples?" And they reviled him, and said, "Thou art his disciple; but we are disciples of Moses. We know that God hath spoken unto Moses: but as for this man, we know not whence he is." The man answered and said unto them. "Why, herein is the marvel, that ye know not whence he is, and yet he opened mine eyes. We know that God heareth not sinners: but if any man be a worshipper of God, and do his will, him he heareth. Since the world began it was never heard that any one opened the eyes of a man born blind. If this man were not from God, he could do nothing." They answered and said unto him, "Thou wast altogether born in sins, and dost thou teach us?" And they cast him out. Jesus heard that they had cast him out: and finding him, he said, "Dost thou believe on the Son of God?" He answered and said, "And who is he, Lord, that I may believe on him?" Jesus said unto him, "Thou hast both seen him, and he it is that speaketh with thee." And he said, "Lord, I believe." And he worshipped him. And Jesus said, "For judgment came I into this world, that they that see not may see; and that they that see may become blind." Those of the Pharisees who were with him heard these things, and said unto him, "Are we also blind?" Jesus said unto them, "If ye were blind, ye would have no sin: but now ye say, 'We see:' your sin remaineth." THE GOOD SHEPHERD. "Verily, verily, I say unto you, He that entereth not by the door into the fold of the sheep, but climbeth up some other way, the same is a thief and a robber. But he that entereth in by the door is the shepherd of the sheep. To him the porter openeth; and the sheep hear his voice: and he calleth his own sheep by name, and leadeth them out. When he hath put forth all his own, he goeth before them, and the sheep follow him: for they know his voice. And a stranger will they not follow, but will flee from him: for they know not the voice of strangers." This parable spake Jesus unto them: but they understood not what things they were which he spake unto them. Jesus therefore said unto them again, "Verily, verily, I say unto you, I am the door of the sheep. All that came before me are thieves and robbers: but the sheep did not hear them. I am the door; by me if any man enter in, he shall be saved, and shall go in and go out, and shall find pasture. The thief cometh not, but that he may steal, and kill, and destroy: I came that they may have life, and may have it abundantly. I am the good shepherd: the good shepherd layeth down his life for the sheep. He that is a hireling, and not a shepherd, whose own the sheep are not, beholdeth the wolf coming, and leaveth the sheep, and fleeth, and the wolf snatcheth them, and scattereth them; he fleeth because he is a hireling, and careth not for the sheep. I am the good shepherd; and I know mine own, and mine own know me, even as the Father knoweth me, and I know the Father; and I lay down my life for the sheep. And other sheep I have, which are not of this fold: them also I must bring, and they shall hear my voice: and they shall become one flock, one shepherd. Therefore doth the Father love me, because I lay down my life, that I may take it again. No one taketh it away from me, but I lay it down of myself. I have power to lay it down, and I have power to take it again. This commandment received I from my Father." There arose a division again among the Jews because of these words. And many of them said, "He hath a demon, and is mad; why hear ye him?" Others said, "These are not the sayings of one possessed with a demon. Can a demon open the eyes of the blind?" JESUS AT THE FEAST OF DEDICATION. And it was the feast of the dedication at Jerusalem; it was winter; and Jesus was walking in the temple, in Solomon's porch. The Jews therefore came round about him, and said unto him, "How long dost thou hold us in suspense? If thou art the Christ, tell us plainly." Jesus answered them, "I told you, and ye believe not; the works that I do in my Father's name, these bear witness of me. But ye believe not, because ye are not of my sheep. My sheep hear my voice, and I know them, and they follow me: and I give unto them eternal life; and they shall never perish, and no one shall snatch them out of my hand. My Father, who hath given them unto me, is greater than all; and no one is able to snatch them out of the Father's hand. I and the Father are one." The Jews took up stones again to stone him. Jesus answered them, "Many good works have I showed you from the Father; for which of those works do ye stone me?" The Jews answered him, "For a good work we stone thee not, but for blasphemy; and because that thou, being a man, makest thyself God." Jesus answered them, "Is it not written in your law, 'I said, Ye are gods?' If he called them gods, unto whom the word of God came (and the scripture cannot be broken), say ye of him, whom the Father sanctified and sent into the world, 'Thou blasphemest;' because I said, 'I am the Son of God?' If I do not the works of my Father, believe me not. But if I do them, though ye believe not me, believe the works: that ye may know and understand that the Father is in me, and I in the Father." They sought again to take him: and he went forth out of their hand. RENEWED MINISTRY IN PEREA JESUS AND THE PHARISEES. And he went away again beyond the Jordan into the place where John was at the first baptizing; and there he abode. And many came unto him; and they said, "John indeed did no sign: but all things whatsoever John spake of this man were true." And many believed on him there. Now a Pharisee asketh him to dine with him: and he went in, and sat down to meat. And when the Pharisee saw it, he marvelled that he had not first bathed himself before dinner. And the Lord said unto him, "Now ye the Pharisees cleanse the outside of the cup and of the platter; but your inward part is full of extortion and wickedness. Ye foolish ones, did not he that made the outside make the inside also? But give for alms those things which are within; and behold, all things are clean unto you." And when he was come out from thence, the scribes and the Pharisees began to press upon him vehemently, and to provoke him to speak of many things; laying wait for him, to catch something out of his mouth. In the meantime, when the many thousands of the multitude were gathered together, insomuch that they trod one upon another, he began to say unto his disciples first of all, "Beware ye of the leaven of the Pharisees, which is hypocrisy. But there is nothing covered up, that shall not be revealed; and hid, that shall not be known." WARNING AGAINST COVETOUSNESS. And one out of the multitude said unto him, "Teacher, bid my brother divide the inheritance with me." But he said unto him, "Man, who made me a judge or a divider over you?" And he said unto them, "Take heed and keep yourselves from all covetousness: for a man's life consisteth not in the abundance of the things which he possesseth." And he spake a parable unto them, saying, "The ground of a certain rich man brought forth plentifully; and he reasoned within himself, saying, 'What shall I do, because I have not where to bestow my fruits?' And he said, 'This will I do: I will pull down my barns, and build greater; and there will I bestow all my grain and my goods. And I will say to my soul, "Soul, thou hast much goods laid up for many years; take thine ease, eat, drink, be merry."' But God said unto him, 'Thou foolish one, this night is thy soul required of thee: and the things which thou hast prepared, whose shall they be?' So is he that layeth up treasure for himself, and is not rich toward God." THE FALL OF THE TOWER. Now there were some present at that very season who told him of the Galilæans, whose blood Pilate had mingled with their sacrifices. And he answered and said unto them, "Think ye that these Galilæans were sinners above all the Galilæans, because they have suffered these things? I tell you, Nay: but, except ye repent, ye shall all in like manner perish. Or those eighteen, upon whom the tower in Siloam fell, and killed them, think ye that they were offenders above all the men that dwell in Jerusalem? I tell you, Nay: but, except ye repent, ye shall all likewise perish." And he spake this parable: "A certain man had a fig tree planted in his vineyard; and he came seeking fruit thereon, and found none. And he said unto the vinedresser, 'Behold, these three years I come seeking fruit on this fig tree, and find none: cut it down; why doth it also cumber the ground.' And he answering saith unto him, 'Lord, let it alone this year also, till I shall dig about it, and dung it: and if it bear fruit thenceforth, well; but if not, thou shalt cut it down.'" THE USES OF THE SABBATH. And he was teaching in one of the synagogues on the sabbath day. And behold, a woman that had a spirit of infirmity eighteen years; and she was bowed together, and could in no wise lift herself up. And when Jesus saw her, he called her, and said to her, "Woman, thou art loosed from thine infirmity." And he laid his hands upon her: and immediately she was made straight, and glorified God. And the ruler of the synagogue, being moved with indignation because Jesus had healed on the sabbath, answered and said to the multitude, "There are six days in which men ought to work: in them therefore come and be healed, and not on the day of the sabbath." But the Lord answered him and said, "Ye hypocrites, doth not each one of you on the sabbath loose his ox or his ass from the stall, and lead him away to watering? And ought not this woman, being a daughter of Abraham, whom Satan had bound, lo, these eighteen years, to have been loosed from this bond on the day of the sabbath?" And as he said these things, all his adversaries were put to shame: and all the multitude rejoiced for all the glorious things that were done by him. A QUESTION OF SALVATION. And he went on his way through cities and villages, teaching, and journeying on unto Jerusalem. And one said unto him, "Lord, are they few that are saved?" And he said unto them, "Strive to enter in by the narrow door: for many, I say unto you, shall seek to enter in, and shall not be able. When once the master of the house is risen up, and hath shut to the door, and ye begin to stand without and to knock at the door, saying, 'Lord, open to us,' and he shall answer and say to you, 'I know you not whence ye are'; then shall ye begin to say, 'We did eat and drink in thy presence, and thou didst teach in our streets'; and he shall say, 'I tell you, I know not whence ye are; depart from me, all ye workers of iniquity.' There shall be the weeping and the gnashing of teeth, when ye shall see Abraham, and Isaac, and Jacob, and all the prophets, in the kingdom of God, and yourselves cast forth without. And they shall come from the east and west, and from the north and south, and shall sit down in the kingdom of God. And behold, there are last who shall be first, and there are first who shall be last." A MESSAGE TO HEROD. In that very hour there came certain Pharisees, saying to him, "Get thee out, and go hence: for Herod would fain kill thee." And he said unto them, "Go and say to that fox, 'Behold, I cast out demons and perform cures to-day and to-morrow, and the third day I am perfected.' Nevertheless I must go on my way to-day and to-morrow and the day following: for it cannot be that a prophet perish out of Jerusalem." THE OX IN THE PIT. And it came to pass, when he went into the house of one of the rulers of the Pharisees on a sabbath to eat bread, that they were watching him. And behold, there was before him a certain man that had the dropsy. And Jesus answering spake unto the lawyers and Pharisees, saying, "Is it lawful to heal on the sabbath, or not?" But they held their peace. And he took him, and healed him, and let him go. And he said unto them, "Which of you shall have an ass or an ox fallen into a well, and will not straightway draw him up on a sabbath day?" And they could not answer again unto these things. THE CHIEF PLACES AT THE FEAST. And he spake a parable unto those that were bidden, when he marked how they chose out the chief seats; saying unto them, "When thou art bidden of any man to a marriage feast, sit not down in the chief seat; lest haply a more honorable man than thou be bidden of him, and he that bade thee and him shall come and say to thee, 'Give this man place'; and then thou shalt begin with shame to take the lowest place. But when thou art bidden, go and sit down in the lowest place; that when he that hath bidden thee cometh, he may say to thee, 'Friend, go up higher'; then shalt thou have glory in the presence of all that sit at meat with thee. For every one that exalteth himself shall be humbled: and he that humbleth himself shall be exalted." And he said to him also that had bidden him, "When thou makest a dinner or a supper, call not thy friends, nor thy brethren, nor thy kinsmen, nor rich neighbors; lest haply they also bid thee again, and a recompense be made thee. But when thou makest a feast, bid the poor, the maimed, the lame, the blind: and thou shalt be blessed; because they have not wherewith to recompense thee: for thou shalt be recompensed in the resurrection of the just. THE SLIGHTED INVITATION. And when one of them that sat at meat with him heard these things, he said unto him, "Blessed is he that shall eat bread in the kingdom of God." But he said unto him, "A certain man made a great supper; and he bade many: and he sent forth his servant at supper time to say to them that were bidden, 'Come; for all things are now ready.' And they all with one consent began to make excuse. The first said unto him, 'I have bought a field, and I must needs go out and see it; I pray thee have me excused.' And another said, 'I have bought five yoke of oxen, and I go to prove them; I pray thee have me excused.' And another said, 'I have married a wife, and therefore I cannot come.' And the servant came, and told his lord these things. Then the master of the house, being angry, said to his servant, 'Go out quickly into the streets and lanes of the city, and bring in hither the poor and maimed and blind and lame.' And the servant said, 'Lord, what thou didst command is done, and yet there is room.' And the lord said unto the servant, 'Go out into the highways and hedges, and constrain them to come in, that my house may be filled. For I say unto you, that none of those men that were bidden shall taste of my supper.'" COUNTING THE COST. Now there went with him great multitudes: and he turned, and said unto them, "If any man cometh unto me, and hateth not his own father, and mother, and wife, and children, and brethren, and sisters, yea, and his own life also, he cannot be my disciple. Whosoever doth not bear his own cross, and come after me, cannot be my disciple. For which of you, desiring to build a tower, doth not first sit down and count the cost, whether he have wherewith to complete it? Lest haply, when he hath laid a foundation, and is not able to finish, all that behold begin to mock him, saying, 'This man began to build, and was not able to finish.' Or what king, as he goeth to encounter another king in war, will not sit down first and take counsel whether he is able with ten thousand to meet him that cometh against him with twenty thousand? Or else, while the other is yet a great way off, he sendeth an ambassage, and asketh conditions of peace. So therefore whosoever he be of you that renounceth not all that he hath, he cannot be my disciple. Salt therefore is good: but if even the salt have lost its savor, wherewith shall it be seasoned? It is fit neither for the land nor for the dunghill: men cast it out. He that hath ears to hear, let him hear." THE NINETY AND NINE. Now all the publicans and sinners were drawing near unto him to hear him. And both the Pharisees and the scribes murmured, saying, "This man receiveth sinners, and eateth with them." And he spake unto them this parable, saying, "What man of you, having a hundred sheep, and having lost one of them, doth not leave the ninety and nine in the wilderness, and go after that which is lost, until he find it? And when he hath found it, he layeth it on his shoulders, rejoicing. And when he cometh home, he calleth together his friends and his neighbors, saying unto them, 'Rejoice with me, for I have found my sheep which was lost.' I say unto you, that even so there shall be joy in heaven over one sinner that repenteth, more than over ninety and nine righteous persons, who need no repentance. THE LOST COIN. "Or what woman having ten pieces of silver, if she lose one piece, doth not light a lamp, and sweep the house, and seek diligently until she find it? And when she hath found it, she calleth together her friends and neighbors, saying, 'Rejoice with me, for I have found the piece which I had lost.' Even so, I say unto you, there is joy in the presence of the angels of God over one sinner that repenteth." THE PRODIGAL SON. And he said, "A certain man had two sons: and the younger of them said to his father, 'Father, give me the portion of thy substance that falleth to me.' And he divided unto them his living. And not many days after, the younger son gathered all together and took his journey into a far country; and there he wasted his substance with riotous living. And when he had spent all, there arose a mighty famine in that country; and he began to be in want. And he went and joined himself to one of the citizens of that country; and he sent him into his fields to feed swine. And he would fain have filled his belly with the husks that the swine did eat: and no man gave unto him. But when he came to himself he said, 'How many hired servants of my father's have bread enough and to spare, and I perish here with hunger! I will arise and go to my father, and will say unto him, Father, I have sinned against heaven, and in thy sight: I am no more worthy to be called thy son: make me as one of thy hired servants.' And he arose, and came to his father. But while he was yet afar off, his father saw him, and was moved with compassion, and ran, and fell on his neck, and kissed him. And the son said unto him, 'Father, I have sinned against heaven, and in thy sight: I am no more worthy to be called thy son.' But the father said to his servants, 'Bring forth quickly the best robe, and put it on him; and put a ring on his hand, and shoes on his feet: and bring the fatted calf, and kill it, and let us eat, and make merry: for this my son was dead, and is alive again; he was lost, and is found.' And they began to be merry. Now his elder son was in the field: and as he came and drew nigh to the house, he heard music and dancing. And he called to him one of the servants, and inquired what these things might be. And he said unto him, 'Thy brother is come; and thy father hath killed the fatted calf, because he hath received him safe and sound.' But he was angry, and would not go in: and his father came out, and entreated him. But he answered and said to his father, 'Lo, these many years do I serve thee, and I never transgressed a commandment of thine; and yet thou never gavest me a kid, that I might make merry with my friends; but when this thy son came, who hath devoured thy living with harlots, thou killedst for him the fatted calf.' And he said unto him, 'Son, thou art ever with me, and all that is mine is thine. But it was meet to make merry and be glad: for this thy brother was dead, and is alive again; and was lost, and is found.'" THE UNJUST STEWARD. And he said also unto the disciples, "There was a certain rich man, who had a steward; and the same was accused unto him that he was wasting his goods. And he called him, and said unto him, 'What is this that I hear of thee? render the account of thy stewardship; for thou canst be no longer steward' And the steward said within himself, 'What shall I do, seeing that my lord taketh away the stewardship from me? I have not strength to dig; to beg I am ashamed. I am resolved what to do, that, when I am put out of the stewardship, they may receive me into their houses.' And calling to him each one of his lord's debtors, he said to the first, 'How much owest thou unto my lord?' And he said, 'A hundred measures of oil.' And he said unto him, 'Take thy bond, and sit down quickly and write fifty.' Then said he to another, 'And how much owest thou?' And he said, 'A hundred measures of wheat.' He saith unto him, 'Take thy bond, and write fourscore.' And his lord commended the unrighteous steward because he had done wisely: for the sons of this world are for their own generation wiser than the sons of the light. And I say unto you, Make to yourselves friends by means of the mammon of unrighteousness; that, when it shall fail, they may receive you into the eternal tabernacles. He that is faithful in a very little is faithful also in much: and he that is unrighteous in a very little is unrighteous also in much. If therefore ye have not been faithful in the unrighteous mammon, who will commit to your trust the true riches? And if ye have not been faithful in that which is another's, who will give you that which is your own? No servant can serve two masters: for either he will hate the one, and love the other; or else he will hold to one, and despise the other. Ye cannot serve God and mammon." A PARABLE TO THE LOVERS OF MONEY. And the Pharisees, who were lovers of money, heard all these things; and they scoffed at him. And he said unto them, "Ye are they that justify yourselves in the sight of men; but God knoweth your hearts: for that which is exalted among men is an abomination in the sight of God. "Now there was a certain rich man, and he was clothed in purple and fine linen, faring sumptuously every day: and a certain beggar named Lazarus was laid at his gate, full of sores, and desiring to be fed with the crumbs that fell from the rich man's table; yea, even the dogs came and licked his sores. And it came to pass, that the beggar died, and that he was carried away by the angels into Abraham's bosom: and the rich man also died, and was buried. And in Hades he lifted up his eyes, being in torments, and seeth Abraham afar off, and Lazarus in his bosom. And he cried and said, 'Father Abraham, have mercy on me, and send Lazarus, that he may dip the tip of his finger in water, and cool my tongue; for I am in anguish in this flame.' But Abraham said, 'Son, remember that thou in thy lifetime receivedst thy good things, and Lazarus in like manner evil things; but now he is comforted, and thou art in anguish. And besides all this, between us and you there is a great gulf fixed, that they that would pass from hence to you may not be able, and that none may cross over from thence to us.' And he said, 'I pray thee therefore, father, that thou wouldest send him to my father's house; for I have five brethren; that he may testify unto them, lest they also come into this place of torment.' But Abraham saith, 'They have Moses and the prophets; let them hear them.' And he said, 'Nay, father Abraham: but if one go to them from the dead, they will repent.' And he said unto him, 'If they hear not Moses and the prophets, neither will they be persuaded, if one rise from the dead.'" "INCREASE OUR FAITH." And the apostles said unto the Lord, "Increase our faith." And the Lord said. "If ye had faith as a grain of mustard seed, ye would say unto this sycamine tree, 'Be thou rooted up, and be thou planted in the sea'; and it would obey you. But who is there of you, having a servant plowing or keeping sheep, that will say unto him, when he is come in from the field. 'Come straightway and sit down to meat'; and will not rather say unto him, 'Make ready wherewith I may sup, and gird thyself, and serve me, till I have eaten and drunken; and afterward thou shalt eat and drink?' Doth he thank the servant because he did the things that were commanded? Even so ye also, when ye shall have done all the things that are commanded you, say, 'We are unprofitable servants; we have done that which it was our duty to do.'" NEAR JERUSALEM--THE PLOT TO KILL HIM. THE RAISING OF LAZARUS. Now a certain man was sick, Lazarus of Bethany, of the village of Mary and her sister Martha. And it was that Mary who anointed the Lord with ointment, and wiped his feet with her hair, whose brother Lazarus was sick. The sisters therefore sent unto him, saying, "Lord, behold, he whom thou lovest is sick." But when Jesus heard it, he said, "This sickness is not unto death, but for the glory of God, that the son of God may be glorified thereby." Now Jesus loved Martha, and her sister, and Lazarus. When therefore he heard that he was sick, he abode at that time two days in the place where he was. Then after this he saith to the disciples, "Let us go into Judæa again." The disciples say unto him, "Rabbi, the Jews were but now seeking to stone thee: and goest thou thither again?" Jesus answered, "Are there not twelve hours in the day? If a man walk in the day, he stumbleth not, because he seeth the light of this world. But if a man walk in the night, he stumbleth, because the light is not in him." These things spake he: and after this he saith unto them. "Our friend Lazarus is fallen asleep; but I go, that I may awake him out of sleep." The disciples therefore said unto him, "Lord, if he is fallen asleep, he will recover." Now Jesus had spoken of his death: but they thought that he spake of taking rest in sleep. Then Jesus therefore said unto them plainly, "Lazarus is dead. And I am glad for your sakes that I was not there, to the intent ye may believe; nevertheless let us go unto him." Thomas therefore, who is called Didymus, said unto his fellow-disciples, "Let us also go, that we may die with him." So when Jesus came, he found that he had been in the tomb four days already. Now Bethany was nigh unto Jerusalem, about fifteen furlongs off; and many of the Jews had come to Martha and Mary, to console them concerning their brother. Martha therefore, when she heard that Jesus was coming, went and met him: but Mary still sat in the house. Martha therefore said unto Jesus, "Lord, if thou hadst been here, my brother had not died. And even now I know that, whatsoever thou shalt ask of God, God will give thee." Jesus saith unto her, "Thy brother shall rise again." Martha saith unto him, "I know that he shall rise again in the resurrection at the last day." Jesus said unto her, "I am the resurrection, and the life: he that believeth on me, though he die, yet shall he live; and whosoever liveth and believeth on me shall never die. Believest thou this?" She saith unto him, "Yea, Lord. I have believed that thou art the Christ, the Son of God, even he that cometh into the world." And when she had said this, she went away, and called Mary her sister secretly, saying, "The Teacher is here, and calleth thee." And she, when she heard it, arose quickly, and went unto him. (Now Jesus was not yet come into the village, but was still in the place where Martha met him.) The Jews then who were with her in the house, and were consoling her, when they saw Mary, that she rose up quickly and went out, followed her, supposing that she was going unto the tomb to weep there. Mary therefore, when she came where Jesus was, and saw him, fell down at his feet, saying unto him. "Lord, if thou hadst been here, my brother had not died." When Jesus therefore saw her weeping, and the Jews also weeping who came with her, he groaned in the spirit, and was troubled, and said, "Where have ye laid him?" They say unto him, "Lord, come and see." Jesus wept. The Jews therefore said, "Behold how he loved him!" But some of them said, "Could not this man, who has opened the eyes of him that was blind, have caused that this man also should not die?" Jesus therefore again groaning in himself cometh to the tomb. Now it was a cave, and a stone lay against it. Jesus saith, "Take ye away the stone." Martha, the sister of him that was dead, saith unto him, "Lord, by this time the body decayeth; for he hath been dead four days." Jesus saith unto her, "Said I not unto thee, that, if thou believedst, thou shouldest see the glory of God?" So they took away the stone. And Jesus lifted up his eyes, and said, "Father, I thank thee that thou heardest me. And I knew that thou hearest me always: but because of the multitude that standeth around I said it, that they may believe that thou didst send me." And when he had thus spoken, he cried with a loud voice, "Lazarus, come forth." He that was dead came forth, bound hand and foot with grave-clothes; and his face was bound about with a napkin. Jesus saith unto them, "Loose him, and let him go." Many therefore of the Jews, who came to Mary and beheld that which he did, believed on him. But some of them went away to the Pharisees, and told them the things which Jesus had done. THE DECISION OF THE COUNCIL. The chief priests therefore and the Pharisees gathered a council, and said, "What do we? for this man doeth many signs. If we let him thus alone, all men will believe on him: and the Romans will come and take away both our place and our nation." But a certain one of them, Caiaphas, being high priest that year, said unto them, "Ye know nothing at all, nor do ye take account that it is expedient for you that one man should die for the people, and that the whole nation perish not." Now this he said not of himself: but being high priest that year, he prophesied that Jesus should die for the nation; and not for the nation only, but that he might also gather together into one the children of God that are scattered abroad. So from that day forth they took counsel that they might put him to death. HIS WITHDRAWAL TO EPHRAIM THE COMING OF THE KINGDOM. Jesus therefore walked no more openly among the Jews, but departed thence into the country near to the wilderness, into a city called Ephraim; and there he tarried with the disciples. And being asked by the Pharisees, when the kingdom of God cometh, he answered them and said, "The kingdom of God cometh not with observation: neither shall they say, 'Lo, here!' or, 'There!' for lo, the kingdom of God is within you." And he said unto the disciples, "The days will come, when ye shall desire to see one of the days of the Son of man, and ye shall not see it. And they shall say to you, 'Lo, there!' 'Lo, here!' go not away, nor follow after them; for as the lightning, when it lighteneth out of the one part under the heaven, shineth unto the other part under heaven; so shall the Son of man be in his day. But first must he suffer many things and be rejected of this generation. "And as it came to pass in the days of Noah, even so shall it be also in the days of the Son of man. They ate, they drank, they married, they were given in marriage, until the day that Noah entered into the ark, and the flood came, and destroyed them all. Likewise even as it came to pass in the days of Lot; they ate, they drank, they bought, they sold, they planted, they builded; but in the day that Lot went out from Sodom it rained fire and brimstone from heaven, and destroyed them all: after the same manner shall it be in the day that the Son of man is revealed. In that day, he that shall be on the housetop, and his goods in the house, let him not go down to take them away; and let him that is in the field likewise not return back. Remember Lot's wife. Whosoever shall seek to gain his life shall lose it; but whosoever shall lose his life shall preserve it." THE UNJUST JUDGE. And he spake a parable unto them to the end that they ought always to pray, and not to faint; saying, "There was in a city a judge, who feared not God, and regarded not man: and there was a widow in that city: and she came oft unto him, saying, 'Avenge me of mine adversary.' And he would not for a while: but afterward he said within himself, 'Though I fear not God, nor regard man; yet because this widow troubleth me, I will avenge her, lest she wear me out by her continual coming.'" And the Lord said, "Hear what the unrighteous judge saith. And shall not God avenge his elect, that cry to him day and night, and yet he is longsuffering over them? I say unto you, that he will avenge them speedily. Nevertheless, when the Son of man cometh, shall he find faith on the earth?" THE PHARISEE AND THE PUBLICAN. And he spake also this parable unto certain who trusted in themselves that they were righteous, and set all others at nought: "Two men went up into the temple to pray; the one a Pharisee, and the other a publican. The Pharisee stood and prayed thus with himself, 'God, I thank thee, that I am not as the rest of men, extortioners, unjust, adulterers, or even as this publican. I fast twice in the week; I give tithes of all that I get.' But the publican, standing afar off, would not lift up so much as his eyes unto heaven, but smote his breast, saying, 'God, be thou merciful to me a sinner.' I say unto you, This man went down to his house justified rather than the other: for every one that exalteth himself shall be humbled; but he that humbleth himself shall be exalted." CONCERNING DIVORCE. And there came unto him Pharisees, trying him, and saying, "Is it lawful for a man to put away his wife for every cause?" And he answered and said, "Have ye not read, that he who made them from the beginning made them, male and female, and said, 'For this cause shall a man leave his father and mother, and shall cleave to his wife; and the two shall become one flesh?' So that they are no more two, but one flesh. What therefore God hath joined together, let not man put asunder." They say unto him, "Why then did Moses command to give a bill of divorcement, and to put her away?" He saith unto them, "Moses for your hardness of heart suffered you to put away your wives: but from the beginning it hath not been so. And I say unto you, Whosoever shall put away his wife, except for fornication, and shall marry another, committeth adultery: and he that marrieth her when she is put away committeth adultery." The disciples say unto him, "If the case of the man is so with his wife, it is not expedient to marry." But he said unto them, "Not all men can receive this saying, but they to whom it is given. For there are eunuchs, that were so born from their mother's womb: and there are eunuchs, that were made eunuchs by men: and there are eunuchs, that made themselves eunuchs for the kingdom of heaven's sake. He that is able to receive it, let him receive it." JESUS AND THE CHILDREN. And they were bringing unto him little children, that he should touch them: and the disciples rebuked them. But when Jesus saw it, he was moved with indignation, and said unto them, "Suffer the little children to come unto me; forbid them not: for to such belongeth the kingdom of God. Verily I say unto you, Whosoever shall not receive the kingdom of God as a little child, he shall in no wise enter therein." And he took them in his arms, and blessed them, laying his hands upon them. THE RICH YOUNG RULER. And behold, as he was going forth into the way, a certain ruler ran to him, and kneeled to him, and asked him, "Good Teacher, what good thing shall I do that I may have eternal life?" And he said unto him, "Why askest thou me concerning that which is good? None is good, save one, even God: but if thou wouldest enter into life, keep the commandments." He saith unto him, "Which?" And Jesus said, "Thou shalt not kill, Thou shalt not commit adultery, Thou shalt not steal, Thou shalt not bear false witness, Honor thy father and thy mother; and, Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself." The young ruler saith unto him, "All these things have I observed from my youth up; what lack I yet?" And Jesus, looking upon him, loved him, and said unto him, "One thing thou lackest yet: if thou wouldest be perfect, go, sell that which thou hast, and give to the poor, and thou shalt have treasure in heaven: and come, follow me." But when the young man heard the saying, his countenance fell, and he went away sorrowful; for he was one that had great possessions. And Jesus said unto his disciples, "Verily I say unto you, It is hard for a rich man to enter into the kingdom of heaven." And the disciples were amazed at his words. But Jesus answered again and said unto them, "Children, how hard it is for them that trust in riches to enter into the kingdom of God! It is easier for a camel to go through a needle's eye, than for a rich man to enter into the kingdom of God." And when the disciples heard it, they were astonished exceedingly, saying, "Who then can be saved?" And Jesus looking upon them said to them, "With men this is impossible: but with God all things are possible." Then answered Peter and said unto him, "Lo, we have left all, and followed thee; what then shall we have?" And Jesus said unto them, "Verily I say unto you, that ye who have followed me, in the regeneration when the Son of man shall sit on the throne of his glory, ye also shall sit upon twelve thrones, judging the twelve tribes of Israel. And every one that hath left houses, or brethren, or sisters, or father, or mother, or children, or lands, for my name's sake, shall receive a hundredfold now in this time, houses, and brethren, and sisters, and mothers, and children, and lands, with persecutions, and in the world to come shall inherit eternal life. But many shall be last that are first; and first that are last. THE PARABLE OF THE VINEYARD. "For the kingdom of heaven is like unto a man that was a householder, who went out early in the morning to hire laborers into his vineyard. And when he had agreed with the laborers for a shilling a day, he sent them into his vineyard. And he went out about the third hour, and saw others standing in the market-place idle; and to them he said, 'Go ye also into the vineyard, and whatsoever is right I will give you.' And they went their way. Again he went out about the sixth and the ninth hour, and did likewise. And about the eleventh hour he went out, and found others standing; and he saith unto them, 'Why stand ye here all the day idle?' They say unto him, 'Because no man hath hired us.' He saith unto them, 'Go ye also into the vineyard.' And when even was come, the lord of the vineyard saith unto his steward, 'Call the laborers and pay them their hire, beginning from the last unto the first.' And when they came that were hired about the eleventh hour, they received every man a shilling. And when the first came, they supposed that they would receive more; and they likewise received every man a shilling. And when they received it, they murmured against the householder, saying, 'These last have spent but one hour, and thou hast made them equal unto us, who have borne the burden of the day and the scorching heat.' But he answered and said to one of them, 'Friend, I do thee no wrong: didst not thou agree with me for a shilling? Take up that which is thine, and go thy way; it is my will to give unto this last, even as unto thee. Is it not lawful for me to do what I will with mine own? or is thine eye evil, because I am good?' So the last shall be first, and the first last." THE LAST JOURNEY TO JERUSALEM THE SHADOW OF THE CROSS. And they were on the way, going up to Jerusalem; and Jesus was going before them: and they were amazed; and they that followed were afraid. And he took again the twelve, and began to tell them the things that were to happen unto him, saying, "Behold, we go up to Jerusalem; and all the things that are written by the prophets shall be accomplished unto the Son of man; and he shall be delivered unto the chief priests and the scribes; and they shall condemn him to death, and shall deliver him unto the Gentiles: and they shall mock him, and shall spit upon him, and shall scourge him, and shall kill him; and after three days he shall rise again." And they understood none of these things: and this saying was hid from them: and they perceived not the things that were said. THE SONS OF THUNDER. Then came to him the mother of the sons of Zebedee with her sons James and John, worshipping him, and asking a certain thing of him. And he said unto her, "What wouldest thou?" She saith unto him, "Command that these my two sons may sit, one on thy right hand, and one on thy left hand, in thy kingdom." But Jesus answered and said, "Ye know not what ye ask. Are ye able to drink the cup that I am about to drink? or to be baptized with the baptism that I am baptized with?" And they said unto him, "We are able." And Jesus said unto them, "The cup that I drink ye shall drink; and with the baptism that I am baptized withal shall ye be baptized: but to sit on my right hand or on my left hand is not mine to give; but it is for them for whom it hath been prepared of my Father." And when the ten heard it, they began to be moved with indignation concerning James and John. And Jesus called them to him, and saith unto them, "Ye know that they who are accounted to rule over the Gentiles lord it over them; and their great ones exercise authority over them. But it is not so among you: but whosoever would become great among you, shall be your minister; and whosoever would be first among you, shall be servant of all. Even as the Son of man also came not to be ministered unto, but to minister, and to give his life a ransom for many." THE BLIND MAN OF JERICHO. And they come to Jericho: and as they went out from Jericho, with his disciples and a great multitude, the son of Timæus, Bartimæus, a blind beggar, was sitting by the wayside, begging. And hearing the multitude going by, he inquired what this meant, and they told him that Jesus of Nazareth passeth by. And when he heard that it was Jesus the Nazarene, he began to cry out and say, "Jesus, thou son of David, have mercy on me." And Jesus stood still, and said, "Call ye him." And they call the blind man, saying unto him, "Be of good cheer: rise, he calleth thee." And he, casting away his garment, sprang up, and came to Jesus. And Jesus answered him, and said, "What wilt thou that I should do unto thee?" And the blind man said unto him, "Rabboni, that I may receive my sight." And Jesus said unto him, "Go thy way; thy faith hath made thee whole." And straightway he received his sight, and followed him in the way, glorifying God. And all the people, when they saw it, gave praise unto God. THE VISIT TO ZACCHÆUS. And he entered and was passing through Jericho. And behold, a man called by name Zacchæus; and he was a chief publican, and he was rich. And he sought to see Jesus who he was; and could not for the crowd, because he was little of stature. And he ran on before, and climbed up into a sycamore tree to see him: for he was to pass that way. And when Jesus came to the place, he looked up, and said unto him, "Zacchæus, make haste, and come down; for to-day I must abide at thy house." And he made haste, and came down, and received him joyfully. And when they saw it, they all murmured, saying, "He is gone in to lodge with a man that is a sinner." And Zacchæus stood, and said unto the Lord, "Behold, Lord, the half of my goods I give to the poor; and if I have wrongfully exacted aught of any man, I restore fourfold." And Jesus said unto him, "To-day is salvation come to this house, forasmuch as he also is a son of Abraham. For the Son of man came to seek and to save that which was lost." THE PARABLE OF THE POUNDS. And as they heard these things, he added and spake a parable, because he was nigh to Jerusalem, and because they supposed that the kingdom of God was immediately to appear. He said therefore, "A certain nobleman went into a far country, to receive for himself a kingdom, and to return. And he called ten servants of his, and gave them ten pounds, and said unto them, 'Trade ye herewith till I come.' But his citizens hated him, and sent an ambassage after him, saying, 'We will not that this man reign over us.' "And it came to pass, when he was come back again, having received the kingdom, that he commanded these servants, unto whom he had given the money, to be called to him, that he might know what they had gained by trading. And the first came before him, saying, 'Lord, thy pound hath made ten pounds more.' And he said unto him, 'Well done, thou good servant: because thou wast found faithful in a very little, have thou authority over ten cities.' And the second came, saying, 'Thy pound, Lord, hath made five pounds.' And he said unto him also, 'Be thou also over five cities.' And another came, saying, 'Lord, behold, here is thy pound, which I kept laid up in a napkin: for I feared thee, because thou art an austere man: thou takest up that which thou layedst not down, and reapest that which thou didst not sow.' He saith unto him, 'Out of thine own mouth will I judge thee, thou wicked servant. Thou knewest that I am an austere man, taking up that which I laid not down, and reaping that which I did not sow; then wherefore gavest thou not my money into the bank, and I at my coming should have required it with interest?' And he said unto them that stood by, 'Take away from him the pound, and give it unto him that hath the ten pounds.' And they said unto him, 'Lord, he hath ten pounds.' 'I say unto you, that unto every one that hath shall be given; but from him that hath not, even that which he hath shall be taken away from him. But these mine enemies, that would not that I should reign over them, bring hither, and slay them before me.'" And when he had thus spoken, he went on before, going up to Jerusalem. GOING UP TO JERUSALEM. Now the passover of the Jews was at hand: and many went up to Jerusalem out of the country before the passover, to purify themselves. They sought therefore for Jesus, and spake one with another, as they stood in the temple, "What think ye? That he will not come to the feast?" Now the chief priests and the Pharisees had given commandment, that, if any man knew where he was, he should show it, that they might take him. THE FEAST AT BETHANY. Jesus therefore six days before the passover came to Bethany, where Lazarus was, whom Jesus raised from the dead. So they made him a supper there in the house of Simon the leper; and Martha served: but Lazarus was one of them that sat at meat with him. Mary therefore took a pound of ointment of pure nard, very precious, and anointed the feet of Jesus, and wiped his feet with her hair; and the house was filled with the odor of the ointment. But Judas Iscariot, one of his disciples, that should betray him, saith, "Why was not this ointment sold for three hundred shillings, and given to the poor?" Now this he said, not because he cared for the poor; but because he was a thief, and having the bag took away what was put therein. Jesus therefore said, "Suffer her to keep it against the day of my burying. For the poor ye have always with you; but me ye have not always. She hath done what she could; she hath anointed my body beforehand for the burying. And verily I say unto you, Wheresoever the gospel shall be preached throughout the whole world, that also which this woman hath done shall be spoken of for a memorial of her." The common people therefore of the Jews learned that he was there: and they came, not for Jesus' sake only, but that they might see Lazarus also, whom he had raised from the dead. But the chief priests took counsel that they might put Lazarus also to death; because that by reason of him many of the Jews went away, and believed on Jesus. =HIS LAST WEEK= * * * * * PALM SUNDAY--THE DAY OF TRIUMPH THE TRIUMPHAL ENTRY. On the morrow when they drew nigh unto Jerusalem, unto Bethphage and Bethany, at the mount of Olives, he sendeth two of his disciples, and saith unto them, "Go your way into the village that is over against you: and straightway as ye enter into it, ye shall find a colt tied, whereon no man ever yet sat; loose him, and bring him. And if any one say unto you, 'Why do ye this?' say ye, 'The Lord hath need of him'; and straightway he will send him back hither." Now this is come to pass, that it might be fulfilled, which was spoken through the prophet, saying, "Tell ye the daughter of Zion, Behold, thy King cometh unto thee, Meek, and riding upon an ass, And upon a colt the foal of an ass." And they went away, and found a colt tied at the door without in the open street: and they loose him. And certain of them that stood there said unto them, "What do ye, loosing the colt?" And they said unto them even as Jesus had said: and they let them go. And they bring the colt unto Jesus, and cast on him their garments; and he sat upon him. And the most part of the multitude spread their garments upon the way; and others branches, which they had cut from the fields. And as he was drawing nigh, even at the descent of the Mount of Olives, the whole multitude of the disciples began to rejoice and praise God with a loud voice for all the mighty works which they had seen. And they that went before, and they that followed, cried, "Hosanna to the Son of David; Blessed is he that cometh in the name of the Lord; Blessed is the kingdom that cometh, the kingdom of our father David: Hosanna in the highest." These things understood not his disciples at the first: but when Jesus was glorified, then remembered they that these things were written of him, and that they had done these things unto him. The multitude, therefore, that was with him when he called Lazarus out of the tomb, and raised him from the dead, bare witness. For this cause also the multitude went and met him, for that they heard that he had done this sign. And some of the Pharisees from the multitude said unto him, "Teacher, rebuke thy disciples." And he answered and said, "I tell you that, if these shall hold their peace, the stones will cry out." And when he drew nigh, he saw the city and wept over it, saying, "If thou hadst known in this day, even thou, the things which belong unto peace! but now they are hid from thine eyes. For the days shall come upon thee, when thine enemies shall cast up a bank about thee, and compass thee round, and keep thee in on every side, and shall dash thee to the ground, and thy children within thee: and they shall not leave in thee one stone upon another; because thou knewest not the time of thy visitation." And when he was come into Jerusalem, all the city was stirred, saying, "Who is this?" And the multitudes said, "This is the prophet, Jesus, from Nazareth of Galilee." The Pharisees therefore said among themselves, "Behold, how ye prevail nothing; lo, the world is gone after him." And he entered into Jerusalem, into the temple; and when he had looked round about upon all things, it being now eventide, he went out unto Bethany with the twelve. MONDAY--THE DAY OF AUTHORITY THE CURSING OF THE FIG TREE. And on the morrow, when they were come out from Bethany, he hungered. And seeing a fig tree afar off having leaves, he came, if haply he might find anything thereon: and when he came to it, he found nothing but leaves; for it was not the season of figs. And he answered and said unto it, "No man eat fruit from thee henceforward for ever." And his disciples heard it. THE CLEANSING OF THE TEMPLE. And they come to Jerusalem: and he entered into the temple, and began to cast out them that sold and them that bought in the temple, and overthrew the tables of the money-changers, and the seats of them that sold the doves: and he would not suffer that any man should carry a vessel through the temple. And he taught, and said unto them, "Is it not written, 'My house shall be called a house of prayer for all the nations?' but ye have made it a den of robbers?" And the blind and the lame came to him in the temple; and he healed them. But when the chief priests and the scribes saw the wonderful things that he did, and the children that were crying in the temple and saying, "Hosanna to the son of David": they were moved with indignation, and said unto him, "Hearest thou what these are saying?" And Jesus saith unto them, "Yea: did ye never read, 'Out of the mouth of babes and sucklings thou hast perfected praise'?" And the chief priests and the scribes and the principal men of the people sought to destroy him: and they could not find what they might do; for the people all hung upon him, listening. And he left them, and went forth out of the city to Bethany, and lodged there. TUESDAY--THE DAY OF CONTROVERSY THE LESSON FROM THE WITHERED FIG TREE. And as they passed by in the morning, they saw the fig tree withered away from the roots. And Peter calling to remembrance saith unto him, "Rabbi, behold the fig tree which thou cursedst is withered away." And Jesus answering saith unto them, "Have faith in God. Verily I say unto you, Whosoever shall say unto this mountain, 'Be thou taken up and cast into the sea'; and shall not doubt in his heart, but shall believe that what he saith cometh to pass; he shall have it. Therefore I say unto you, All things whatsoever ye pray and ask for, believe that ye receive them, and ye shall have them. And whensoever ye stand praying, forgive, if ye have aught against any one; that your Father also who is in heaven may forgive you your trespasses." THE CHALLENGE OF CHRIST'S AUTHORITY. And they came again to Jerusalem. And all the people came early in the morning to him in the temple to hear him. And as he was teaching the people in the temple, and preaching the gospel, there came upon him the chief priests and the scribes with the elders; and they spake, saying unto him, "Tell us: By what authority doest thou these things? or who is he that gave thee this authority?" And Jesus answered, and said unto them, "I also will ask you one question, which if ye tell me, I likewise will tell you by what authority I do these things. The baptism of John, whence was it? from heaven or from men?" And they reasoned with themselves, saying, "If we shall say, 'From heaven'; he will say unto us, 'Why did ye not believe him?' But if we shall say, 'From men'; all the people will stone us: for they are persuaded that John was a prophet." And they answered Jesus, and said, "We know not." And Jesus said unto them, "Neither tell I you by what authority I do these things." THREE WARNING PARABLES. THE TWO SONS. "But what think ye? A man had two sons; and he came to the first, and said, 'Son, go work to-day in the vineyard.' And he answered and said, 'I will not': but afterward he repented himself, and went. And he came to the second, and said likewise. And he answered and said, 'I go, sir': and went not. Which of the two did the will of his father?" They say, "The first." Jesus saith unto them, "Verily I say unto you, that the publicans and the harlots go into the kingdom of God before you. For John came unto you in the way of righteousness, and ye believed him not; but the publicans and the harlots believed him: and ye, when ye saw it, did not even repent yourselves afterward that ye might believe him." THE WICKED HUSBANDMEN. "Hear another parable: There was a man who was a householder, who planted a vineyard, and set a hedge about it, and digged a winepress in it, and built a tower, and let it out to husbandmen, and went into another country. And when the season of the fruits drew near, he sent his servants to the husbandmen, to receive his fruits. And the husbandmen took his servants, and beat one, and killed another, and stoned another. Again, he sent other servants more than the first: and they did unto them in like manner. But afterward he sent unto them his son, saying, 'They will reverence my son.' But the husbandmen, when they saw the son, said among themselves, 'This is the heir; come, let us kill him, and take his inheritance.' And they took him, and cast him forth out of the vineyard, and killed him. When therefore the lord of the vineyard shall come, what will he do unto those husbandmen?" They say unto him, "He will miserably destroy those miserable men, and will let out the vineyard unto other husbandmen, who shall render him the fruits in their seasons." Jesus saith unto them, "Did ye never read in the scriptures, 'The stone which the builders rejected, The same was made the head of the corner; This was from the Lord, And it is marvellous in our eyes'? "Therefore say I unto you, The kingdom of God shall be taken away from you, and shall be given to a nation bringing forth the fruits thereof. And he that falleth on this stone shall be broken to pieces; but on whomsoever it shall fall, it will scatter him as dust." And when the chief priests and the Pharisees heard his parables, they perceived that he spake of them. And when they sought to lay hold on him, they feared the multitudes, because they took him for a prophet. THE MARRIAGE OF THE KING'S SON. And Jesus answered and spake again in parables unto them, saying, "The kingdom of heaven is likened unto a certain king, who made a marriage feast for his son, and sent forth his servants to call them that were bidden to the marriage feast: and they would not come. Again he sent forth other servants, saying, Tell them that are bidden, 'Behold, I have made ready my dinner; my oxen and my fatlings are killed, and all things are ready; come to the marriage feast.' But they made light of it, and went their ways, one to his own farm, another to his merchandise; and the rest laid hold on his servants, and treated them shamefully, and killed them. But the king was wroth; and he sent his armies, and destroyed those murderers, and burned their city. Then saith he to his servants, 'The wedding is ready, but they that were bidden were not worthy. Go ye therefore unto the partings of the highways, and as many as ye shall find, bid to the marriage feast.' And those servants went out into the highways, and gathered together all as many as they found, both bad and good; and the wedding was filled with guests. But when the king came in to behold the guests, he saw there a man who had not on a wedding-garment: and he saith unto him, 'Friend, how earnest thou in hither not having a wedding-garment?' And he was speechless. Then the king said to the servants, 'Bind him hand and foot and cast him out into the outer darkness'; there shall be the weeping and the gnashing of teeth. For many are called, but few chosen." THREE HOSTILE QUESTIONS ASKED OF JESUS. TRIBUTE TO CÆSAR. Then went the Pharisees, and took counsel how they might ensnare him in his talk so as to deliver him up to the rule and to the authority of the governor. And they send to him their disciples, with the Herodians, saying, "Teacher, we know that thou art true, and teachest the way of God in truth, and carest not for any one: for thou regardest not the person of men. Tell us therefore, What thinkest thou? Is it lawful to give tribute unto Cæsar, or not?" But Jesus perceived their craftiness, and said, "Why make ye trial of me, ye hypocrites? Show me the tribute money." And they brought unto him a denarius. And he saith unto them, "Whose is this image and superscription?" They say unto him, "Cæsar's." Then he saith unto them, "Render therefore unto Cæsar the things that are Cæsar's; and unto God the things that are God's." And when they heard it, they marvelled, and left him, and went away. THE QUESTION OF THE RESURRECTION. And there came to him certain of the Sadducees, they that say that there is no resurrection; and they asked him, saying, "Teacher, Moses wrote unto us, that if a man's brother die, having a wife, and he be childless, his brother should take the wife, and raise up seed unto his brother. There were therefore seven brethren: and the first took a wife, and died childless; and the second; and the third took her; and likewise the seven also left no children, and died. Afterward the woman also died. In the resurrection therefore whose wife of them shall she be? for the seven had her to wife." And Jesus said unto them, "Ye do err, not knowing the scriptures, nor the power of God. The sons of this world marry, and are given in marriage: but they that are accounted worthy to attain to that world, and the resurrection from the dead, neither marry, nor are given in marriage: for neither can they die any more: for they are equal unto the angels; and are sons of God, being sons of the resurrection. But that the dead are raised, even Moses showed, in the place concerning the Bush, when he calleth the Lord the God of Abraham, and the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob. Now he is not the God of the dead, but of the living: for all live unto him." And when the multitudes heard it, they were astonished at his teaching. THE GREATEST COMMANDMENT. And one of the scribes came, and heard them questioning together, and knowing that he had answered them well, asked him, "What commandment is the first of all?" Jesus answered, "The first is, 'Hear, O Israel: The Lord our God, the Lord is one: and thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy mind, and with all thy strength.' The second is this, 'Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself.' There is none other commandment greater than these." And the scribe said unto him, "Of a truth, Teacher, thou hast well said that he is one: and there is none other but he: and to love him with all the heart, and with all the understanding and with all the strength, and to love his neighbor as himself, is much more than all whole burnt-offerings and sacrifices." And when Jesus saw that he answered discreetly, he said unto him, "Thou art not far from the kingdom of God." THE UNANSWERABLE QUESTION OF JESUS. Now while the Pharisees were gathered together Jesus asked them a question, saying, "What think ye of the Christ? whose son is he?" They say unto him, "The son of David." He saith unto them, "How then doth David in the Spirit call him Lord, saying, 'The Lord said unto my Lord, Sit thou on my right hand, Till I put thine enemies underneath thy feet'? If David then calleth him Lord, how is he his son?" And no one was able to answer him a word, neither durst any man from that day forth ask him any more questions. And the common people heard him gladly. DISCOURSE OF JESUS AGAINST THE SCRIBES AND PHARISEES. Then spake Jesus to the multitudes and to his disciples, saying, "The scribes and the Pharisees sit on Moses' seat: all things therefore whatsoever they bid you, these do and observe: but do not ye after their works; for they say, and do not. Yea, they bind heavy burdens and grievous to be borne, and lay them on men's shoulders; but they themselves will not move them with their finger. But all their works they do to be seen of men: for they make broad their phylacteries, and enlarge the borders of their garments, and love the chief place at feasts, and the chief seats in the synagogues, and the salutations in the marketplaces, and to be called of men, 'Rabbi.' But be not ye called 'Rabbi,' for one is your teacher, and all ye are brethren. And call no man your father on the earth: for one is your Father, even he who is in heaven. Neither be ye called masters: for one is your master, even the Christ. But he that is greatest among you shall be your servant. And whosoever shall exalt himself shall be humbled: and whosoever shall humble himself shall be exalted. "But woe unto you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! because ye shut the kingdom of heaven against men: for ye enter not in yourselves, neither suffer ye them that are entering in to enter. "Woe unto you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! for ye compass sea and land to make one proselyte; and when he is become so, ye make him twofold more a son of hell than yourselves. "Woe unto you, ye blind guides, that say, 'Whosoever shall swear by the temple, it is nothing; but whosoever shall swear by the gold of the temple, he is a debtor.' Ye fools and blind: for which is greater, the gold, or the temple that hath sanctified the gold? And, 'Whosoever shall swear by the altar, it is nothing; but whosoever shall swear by the gift that is upon it, he is a debtor.' Ye blind: for which is greater, the gift, or the altar that sanctifieth the gift? He therefore that sweareth by the altar, sweareth by it, and by all things thereon. And he that sweareth by the temple, sweareth by it, and by him that dwelleth therein. And he that sweareth by the heaven, sweareth by the throne of God, and by him that sitteth thereon. "Woe unto you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! for ye tithe mint and anise and cummin, and have left undone the weightier matters of the law, justice, and mercy, and faith: but these ye ought to have done, and not to have left the other undone. Ye blind guides that strain out the gnat, and swallow the camel! "Woe unto you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! for ye cleanse the outside of the cup and of the platter, but within they are full from extortion and excess. Thou blind Pharisee, cleanse first the inside of the cup and of the platter, that the outside thereof may become clean also. "Woe unto you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! for ye are like unto whited sepulchres, which outwardly appear beautiful, but inwardly are full of dead men's bones, and of all uncleanness. Even so ye also outwardly appear righteous unto men, but inwardly ye are full of hypocrisy and iniquity. "Woe unto you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! for ye build the sepulchres of the prophets, and garnish the tombs of the righteous, and say, 'If we had been in the days of our fathers, we should not have been partakers with them in the blood of the prophets.' Wherefore ye witness to yourselves, that ye are sons of them that slew the prophets. Fill ye up then the measure of your fathers. Ye serpents, ye offspring of vipers, how shall ye escape the judgment of hell? Therefore, behold, I send unto you prophets, and wise men, and scribes: some of them shall ye kill and crucify; and some of them shall ye scourge in your synagogues, and persecute from city to city: that upon you may come all the righteous blood shed on the earth, from the blood of Abel the righteous unto the blood of Zachariah son of Barachiah, whom ye slew between the sanctuary and the altar. Verily I say unto you, All these things shall come upon this generation. "O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, that killeth the prophets, and stoneth them that are sent unto her! how often would I have gathered thy children together, even as a hen gathereth her chickens under her wings, and ye would not! Behold, your house is left unto you desolate. For I say unto you, Ye shall not see me henceforth, till ye shall say, 'Blessed is he that cometh in the name of the Lord.'" THE WIDOW'S TWO MITES. And he sat down over against the treasury, and beheld how the multitude cast money into the treasury: and many that were rich cast in much. And there came a poor widow, and she cast in two mites, which make a farthing. And he called unto him his disciples, and said unto them, "Verily, I say unto you, This poor widow cast in more than all they that are casting into the treasury: for they all did cast in of their superfluity; but she of her want did cast in all that she had, even all her living." THE GENTILES SEEK JESUS. Now there were certain Greeks among those that went up to worship at the feast: these therefore came to Philip, who was of Bethsaida of Galilee, and asked him, saying, "Sir, we would see Jesus." Philip cometh and telleth Andrew: Andrew cometh, and Philip, and they tell Jesus. And Jesus answereth them, saying, "The hour is come, that the Son of man should be glorified. Verily, verily, I say unto you, Except a grain of wheat fall into the earth and die, it abideth by itself alone; but if it die, it beareth much fruit. He that loveth his life loseth it: and he that hateth his life in this world shall keep it unto life eternal. If any man serve me, let him follow me: and where I am, there shall also my servant be: if any man serve me, him will the Father honor. Now is my soul troubled; and what shall I say? Father, save me from this hour. But for this cause came I unto this hour. Father, glorify thy name." There came therefore a voice out of heaven, saying, "I have both glorified it, and will glorify it again." The multitude, therefore, that stood by, and heard it, said that it had thundered: others said, "An angel hath spoken to him." Jesus answered and said, "This voice hath not come for my sake, but for your sakes. Now is the judgment of this world: now shall the prince of this world be cast out. And I, if I be lifted up from the earth, will draw all men unto myself." But this he said, signifying by what manner of death he should die. The multitude therefore answered him, "We have heard out of the law that the Christ abideth forever; and how sayest thou, 'The Son of man must be lifted up'? who is this Son of man?" Jesus therefore said unto them, "Yet a little while is the light among you. Walk while ye have the light, that darkness overtake you not; and he that walketh in the darkness knoweth not whither he goeth. While ye have the light, believe on the light, that ye may become sons of light." These things spake Jesus, and he departed and hid himself from them. THE JEWS REJECT JESUS. But though he had done so many signs before them, yet they believed not on him: that the word of Isaiah the prophet might be fulfilled, which he spake, "Lord, who hath believed our report? And to whom hath the arm of the Lord been revealed?" For this cause they could not believe, for that Isaiah said again. "He hath blinded their eyes, and he hardened their heart; Lest they should see with their eyes, and perceive with their heart, And should turn, And I should heal them." These things said Isaiah, because he saw his glory; and he spake of him. Nevertheless even of the rulers many believed on him; but because of the Pharisees they did not confess it, lest they should be put out of the synagogue; for they loved the glory that is of men more than the glory that is of God. And Jesus cried and said, "He that believeth on me, believeth not on me, but on him that sent me. And he that beholdeth me beholdeth him that sent me. I am come a light into the world, that whosoever believeth on me may not abide in the darkness. And if any man hear my sayings, and keep them not, I judge him not: for I came not to judge the world, but to save the world. He that rejecteth me, and receiveth not my sayings, hath one that judgeth him: the word that I spake, the same shall judge him in the last day. For I spake not from myself; but the Father that sent me, he hath given me a commandment, what I should say, and what I should speak. And I know that his commandment is life eternal; the things therefore which I speak, even as the Father hath said unto me, so I speak." DISCOURSE CONCERNING THE FUTURE. And Jesus went out from the temple, and was going on his way; and his disciples came to him to show him the buildings of the temple. But he answered and said unto them, "See ye not all these things? Verily I say unto you, There shall not be left here one stone upon another, that shall not be thrown down." And as he sat on the mount of Olives over against the temple, Peter and James and John and Andrew asked him privately, "Tell us, when shall these things be? and what shall be the sign when these things are all about to be accomplished?" And Jesus began to say unto them, "Take heed that no man lead you astray. Many shall come in my name, saying, 'I am he,' and shall lead many astray. And when ye shall hear of wars and rumors of wars, be not troubled: these things must needs come to pass; but the end is not yet. For nation shall rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom; there shall be earthquakes in divers places; there shall be famines: these things are the beginning of the travail. "But take ye heed to yourselves: for they shall deliver you up to councils; and in synagogues shall ye be beaten; and before governors and kings shall ye stand for my sake, for a testimony unto them. And the gospel must first be preached unto all the nations. And when they lead you to judgment, and deliver you up, be not anxious beforehand what ye shall speak; but whatsoever shall be given you in that hour, that speak ye; for it is not ye that speak, but the Holy Spirit. But ye shall be delivered up even by parents, and brethren, and kinsfolk, and friends: and some of you shall they cause to be put to death. And ye shall be hated of all men for my name's sake. "And then shall many stumble, and shall deliver up one another, and shall hate one another. And many false prophets shall arise, and shall lead many astray. And because iniquity shall be multiplied, the love of the many shall wax cold. But he that endureth to the end, the same shall be saved. "But when ye see Jerusalem compassed with armies, then know that her desolation is at hand. Then let them that are in Judæa flee unto the mountains: let him that is on the housetop not go down to take out the things that are in his house: and let him that is in the field not return back to take his cloak. For these are days of vengeance, that all things which are written may be fulfilled. "But woe unto them that are with child and to them that give suck in those days! And pray ye that your flight be not in the winter, neither on a Sabbath: for then shall be great tribulation, such as hath not been from the beginning of the world until now, no, nor ever shall be. And except those days had been shortened, no flesh would have been saved: but for the elect's sake those days shall be shortened. Then if any man shall say unto you, 'Lo, here is the Christ,' or, 'Here,' believe it not. For there shall arise false Christs, and false prophets, and shall show great signs and wonders; so as to lead astray, if possible, even the elect. But take ye heed: behold, I have told you all things beforehand. If, therefore, they shall say unto you, 'Behold, he is in the wilderness,' go not forth: 'Behold, he is in the inner chambers,' believe it not. For as the lightning cometh forth from the east and is seen even unto the west, so shall be the coming of the Son of man. Wheresoever the carcase is, there will the eagles be gathered together. "But immediately after the tribulation of those days the sun shall be darkened, and the moon shall not give her light, and the stars shall fall from heaven, and the powers of the heavens shall be shaken: and then shall appear the sign of the Son of man in heaven: and then shall all the tribes of the earth mourn, and they shall see the Son of man coming on the clouds of heaven with power and great glory. And he shall send forth his angels with a great sound of a trumpet, and shall gather together his elect from the four winds, from the uttermost part of the earth to the uttermost part of heaven. "Now from the fig tree learn her parable: when her branch is now become tender, and putteth forth its leaves, ye know that the summer is nigh; even so ye also, when ye see all these things, know ye that he is nigh, even at the doors. Verily I say unto you, This generation shall not pass away till all these things be accomplished. Heaven and earth shall pass away, but my words shall not pass away. But of that day and hour knoweth no one, not even the angels of heaven, neither the Son, but the Father only. "But take heed to yourselves, lest haply your hearts be overcharged with surfeiting, and drunkenness, and cares of this life, and that day come on you suddenly as a snare; for so shall it come upon all them that dwell on the face of all the earth. But watch ye at every season, making supplication, that ye may prevail to escape all these things that shall come to pass, and to stand before the Son of man. "And as were the days of Noah, so shall be the coming of the Son of man. For as in those days which were before the flood they were eating and drinking, marrying and giving in marriage, until the day that Noah entered into the ark, and they knew not until the flood came, and took them all away; so shall be the coming of the Son of man. Then shall two men be in the field; one is taken, and one is left; two women shall be grinding at the mill: one is taken, and one is left. Watch therefore: for ye know not on what day your Lord cometh. "But know this, that if the master of the house had known in what watch the thief was coming, he would have watched, and would not have suffered his house to be broken through. Therefore be ye also ready; for in an hour that ye think not the Son of man cometh. "Take ye heed, watch and pray: for ye know not when the time is. It is as when a man, sojourning in another country, having left his house, and given authority to his servants, to each one his work, commanded also the porter to watch. Watch therefore: for ye know not when the lord of the house cometh, whether at even, or at midnight, or at cockcrowing, or in the morning; lest coming suddenly he find you sleeping. And what I say unto you I say unto all, Watch. "Who then is the faithful and wise servant, whom the lord hath set over his household, to give them their food in due season? Blessed is that servant, whom his lord when he cometh shall find so doing. Verily I say unto you, that he will set him over all that he hath. But if that evil servant shall say in his heart, 'My lord tarrieth;' and shall begin to beat his fellow-servants, and shall eat and drink with the drunken; the lord of that servant shall come in a day when he expecteth not, and in an hour when he knoweth not, and shall cut him asunder, and appoint his portion with the hypocrites: there shall be the weeping and the gnashing of teeth." THREE LESSONS TO THE DISCIPLES. THE PARABLE OF THE TEN VIRGINS. "Then shall the kingdom of heaven be likened unto ten virgins, who took their lamps and went forth to meet the bridegroom. And five of them were foolish, and five were wise. For the foolish, when they took their lamps, took no oil with them: but the wise took oil in their vessels with their lamps. Now while the bridegroom tarried, they all slumbered and slept. But at midnight there is a cry, 'Behold, the bridegroom! Come ye forth to meet him.' Then all those virgins arose, and trimmed their lamps. And the foolish said unto the wise, 'Give us of your oil; for our lamps are going out.' But the wise answered, saying, 'Peradventure there will not be enough for us and you: go ye rather to them that sell, and buy for yourselves.' "And while they went away to buy, the bridegroom came; and they that were ready went in with him to the marriage feast: and the door was shut. Afterward came also the other virgins, saying, 'Lord, Lord, open to us.' But he answered and said, 'Verily I say unto you, I know you not.' "Watch therefore, for ye know not the day nor the hour. THE PARABLE OF THE TALENTS. "For it is as when a man, going into another country, called his own servants, and delivered unto them his goods. And unto one he gave five talents, to another two, to another one; to each according to his several ability; and he went on his journey. Straightway he that received the five talents went and traded with them, and made other five talents. In like manner he also that received the two gained other two. But he that received the one went away and digged in the earth, and hid his lord's money. "Now after a long time the lord of these servants cometh, and maketh a reckoning with them. And he that received the five talents came and brought other five talents, saying, 'Lord, thou deliveredst unto me five talents: lo, I have gained other five talents.' His lord said unto him, 'Well done, good and faithful servant: thou hast been faithful over a few things, I will set thee over many things; enter thou into the joy of thy lord.' "And he also that received the two talents came and said, 'Lord, thou deliveredst unto me two talents: lo, I have gained other two talents.' "His lord said unto him, 'Well done, good and faithful servant: thou hast been faithful over a few things, I will set thee over many things; enter thou into the joy of thy lord.' "And he also that had received the one talent came and said, 'Lord, I knew thee that thou art a hard man, reaping where thou didst not sow, and gathering where thou didst not scatter; and I was afraid, and went away and hid thy talent in the earth: lo, thou hast thine own.' "But his lord answered and said unto him, 'Thou wicked and slothful servant, thou knewest that I reap where I sowed not, and gather where I did not scatter; thou oughtest therefore to have put my money to the bankers, and at my coming I should have received back mine own with interest. Take ye away therefore the talent from him, and give it unto him that hath the ten talents. For unto every one that hath shall be given, and he shall have abundance; but from him that hath not, even that which he hath shall be taken away. And cast ye out the unprofitable servant into the outer darkness: there shall be the weeping and the gnashing of teeth.' THE JUDGMENT SCENE. "But when the Son of man shall come in his glory, and all the angels with him, then shall he sit on the throne of his glory: and before him shall be gathered all the nations: and he shall separate them one from another, as the shepherd separateth the sheep from the goats; and he shall set the sheep on his right hand, but the goats on the left. Then shall the King say unto them on his right hand, 'Come, ye blessed of my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world: for I was hungry, and ye gave me to eat; I was thirsty, and ye gave me drink; I was a stranger, and ye took me in; naked, and ye clothed me; I was sick, and ye visited me; I was in prison, and ye came unto me.' "Then shall the righteous answer him, saying, 'Lord, when saw we thee hungry, and fed thee? or athirst, and gave thee drink? And when saw we thee a stranger, and took thee in? or naked, and clothed thee? And when saw we thee sick, or in prison, and came unto thee?' And the King shall answer and say unto them, 'Verily I say unto you, Inasmuch as ye did it unto one of these my children, even these least, ye did it unto me.' "Then shall he say also unto them on the left hand, 'Depart from me, ye cursed, into the eternal fire which is prepared for the devil and his angels: for I was hungry, and ye did not give me to eat; I was thirsty, and ye gave me no drink; I was a stranger, and ye took me not in; naked, and ye clothed me not; sick, and in prison, and ye visited me not.' Then shall they also answer, saying, 'Lord, when saw we thee hungry, or athirst, or a stranger, or naked, or sick, or in prison, and did not minister unto thee?' Then shall he answer them, saying, 'Verily I say unto you, Inasmuch as ye did it not unto one of these least, ye did it not unto me.' And these shall go away into eternal punishment: but the righteous into eternal life." THE CONSPIRACY AGAINST JESUS. And it came to pass, when Jesus had finished all these words, he said unto his disciples, "Ye know that after two days the passover cometh, and the Son of man is delivered up to be crucified." Then were gathered together the chief priests, the elders of the people, unto the court of the high priest, who was called Caiaphas; and they took counsel together that they might take Jesus by subtlety, and kill him. But they said, "Not during the feast, lest a tumult arise among the people." And Satan entered into Judas, who was called Iscariot, being of the number of the twelve. And he went away and communed with the chief priests and captains, how he might deliver him unto them. And they were glad, and they weighed unto him thirty pieces of silver. And from that time he sought opportunity to deliver him unto them in the absence of the multitude. WEDNESDAY--THE DAY OF RETIREMENT [There is no record of the events of this day. Jesus spent it in retirement, almost certainly in the home of his friends at Bethany.] THURSDAY--THE DAY OF FELLOWSHIP PREPARATION FOR THE PASSOVER. And on the first day of unleavened bread, when they sacrificed the passover, his disciples say unto him, "Where wilt thou that we go and make ready that thou mayest eat the passover?" And he sendeth two of his disciples, and saith unto them, "Go into the city, and there shall meet you a man bearing a pitcher of water; follow him; and wheresoever he shall enter in, say to the master of the house, 'The Teacher saith, My time is at hand. Where is my guest-chamber, where I shall eat the passover with my disciples?' And he will himself show you a large upper room furnished and ready: and there make ready for us." And the disciples went forth, and came into the city, and found as he had said unto them: and they made ready the passover. STRIFE AMONG THE DISCIPLES. And when it was evening he cometh with the twelve. And there arose also a contention among them, which of them was accounted to be greatest. And he said unto them, "The kings of the Gentiles have lordship over them; and they that have authority over them are called Benefactors. But ye shall not be so: but he that is the greater among you, let him become as the younger: and he that is chief, as he that doth serve. For which is greater, he that sitteth at meat, or he that serveth? Is not he that sitteth at meat? But I am in the midst of you as he that serveth. But ye are they that have continued with me in my temptations; and I appoint unto you a kingdom, even as my Father appointed unto me, that ye may eat and drink at my table in my kingdom; and ye shall sit on thrones judging the twelve tribes of Israel." JESUS WASHING THE DISCIPLES' FEET. Now before the feast of the passover, Jesus knowing that his hour was come that he should depart out of this world unto the Father, having loved his own that were in the world, he loved them unto the end. And during supper, the devil having already put into the heart of Judas Iscariot, Simon's son, to betray him, Jesus, knowing that the Father had given all things into his hands, and that he came forth from God, and goeth unto God, riseth from supper, and layeth aside his garments; and he took a towel, and girded himself. Then he poureth water into the basin, and began to wash the disciples' feet, and to wipe them with the towel wherewith he was girded. So he cometh to Simon Peter. He saith unto him, "Lord, dost thou wash my feet?" Jesus answered and said unto him, "What I do thou knowest not now; but thou shall understand hereafter." Peter saith unto him, "Thou shalt never wash my feet." Jesus answered him, "If I wash thee not, thou hast no part with me." Simon Peter saith unto him, "Lord, not my feet only, but also my hands and my head." Jesus saith to him, "He that is bathed needeth not save to wash his feet, but is clean every whit: and ye are clean, but not all." For he knew him that should betray him; therefore said he, "Ye are not all clean." So when he had washed their feet, and taken his garments, and sat down again, he said unto them, "Know ye what I have done to you? Ye call me Teacher, and Lord: and ye say well; for so I am. If I then, the Lord and the Teacher, have washed your feet, ye also ought to wash one another's feet. For I have given you an example, that ye also should do as I have done to you. Verily, verily, I say unto you, A servant is not greater than his lord; neither one that is sent greater than he that sent him. If ye know these things, blessed are ye if ye do them. "I speak not of you all: I know whom I have chosen: but that the scripture may be fulfilled, He that eateth my bread lifted up his heel against me. From henceforth I tell you before it come to pass, that, when it is come to pass, ye may believe that I am he. Verily, verily, I say unto you, He that receiveth whomsoever I send receiveth me; and he that receiveth me receiveth him that sent me." THE BETRAYER POINTED OUT. When Jesus had thus said, he was troubled in the spirit, and testified, and said, "Verily, verily, I say unto you, that one of you shall betray me." The disciples looked one on another, doubting of whom he spake. And they were exceeding sorrowful, and began to say unto him every one, "Is it I, Lord?" And he answered and said, "He that dipped his hand with me in the dish, the same shall betray me. The Son of man goeth, even as it is written of him: but woe unto that man through whom the Son of man is betrayed! Good were it for that man if he had not been born." And Judas, who betrayed him, answered and said, "Is it I, Rabbi?" He saith unto him, "Thou hast said." There was at the table reclining in Jesus' bosom one of his disciples, whom Jesus loved. Simon Peter therefore beckoneth to him, and saith unto him, "Tell us who it is of whom he speaketh." He leaning back, as he was, on Jesus' breast, saith unto him, "Lord, who is it?" Jesus therefore answereth, "He it is, for whom I shall dip the sop, and give it him." So when he had dipped the sop, he taketh and giveth it to Judas, the son of Simon Iscariot. And after the sop, then entered Satan into him. Jesus therefore saith unto him, "What thou doest, do quickly." Now no man at the table knew for what intent he spake this unto him. For some thought because Judas had the bag, that Jesus said unto him, "Buy what things we have need of for the feast," or that he should give something to the poor. He then having received the sop went out straightway: and it was night. When therefore he was gone out, Jesus saith, "Now is the Son of man glorified, and God is glorified in him; and God shall glorify him in himself, and straightway shall he glorify him." THE LORD'S SUPPER. And he said unto them, "With desire I have desired to eat this passover with you before I suffer: for I say unto you, I shall not eat it until it be fulfilled in the Kingdom of God." And he took bread, and when he had given thanks, he brake it, and gave to them, saying, "This is my body; which is given for you; this do in remembrance of me." And he took a cup, in like manner after supper, and gave thanks, and gave to them, saying, "Drink ye all of it; for this is my blood of the new covenant, which is poured out for you, for many, unto remission of sins. Take this and divide it among yourselves; for I say unto you, I shall not drink from henceforth of the fruit of the vine, until the Kingdom of God shall come." THE FAREWELL CONVERSATION. "Little children, yet a little while I am with you. Ye shall seek me: and as I said unto the Jews, 'Whither I go, ye cannot come,' so now I say unto you. A new commandment I give unto you, that ye love one another; even as I have loved you, that ye also love one another. By this shall all men know that ye are my disciples, if ye have love one to another." Simon Peter saith unto him, "Lord, whither goest thou?" Jesus answered, "Whither I go, thou canst not follow me now; but thou shalt follow afterwards." And Jesus saith unto them, "All ye shall be offended: for it is written, I will smite the shepherd, and the sheep shall be scattered abroad. Howbeit, after I am raised up, I will go before you into Galilee." But Peter said unto him, "Although all shall be offended, yet will not I." And Jesus saith unto him, "Verily I say unto thee, that thou to-day, even this night, before the cock crow twice, shalt deny me thrice. Simon, Simon, behold Satan asked to have you, that he might sift you as wheat: but I make supplication for thee, that thy faith fail not: and do thou, when once thou hast turned again, establish thy brethren." But he spake vehemently, "If I must die with thee, I will not deny thee." And in like manner also said they all. * * * * * And he said unto them, "When I sent you forth without purse, and wallet, and shoes, lacked ye anything?" And they said, "Nothing." And he said unto them, "But now, he that hath a purse, let him take it, and likewise a wallet; and he that hath none, let him sell his cloak, and buy a sword. For I say unto you, that this which is written must be fulfilled in me, 'And he was reckoned with transgressors': for that which concerneth me hath fulfillment." And they said, "Lord, behold, here are two swords." And he said unto them, "It is enough." * * * * * "Let not your heart be troubled; believe in God, believe also in me. In my Father's house are many mansions; if it were not so, I would have told you; for I go to prepare a place for you. And if I go and prepare a place for you, I come again, and will receive you unto myself; that where I am, there ye may be also. And whither I go, ye know the way." Thomas saith unto him, "Lord, we know not whither thou goest; how know we the way?" Jesus saith unto him, "I am the way, and the truth, and the life: no one cometh unto the Father, but by me. If ye had known me, ye would have known my Father also: from henceforth ye know him, and have seen him." Philip saith unto him, "Lord, show us the Father, and it sufficeth us." Jesus saith unto him, "Have I been so long time with you, and dost thou not know me, Philip? He that hath seen me hath seen the Father: how sayest thou, 'Show us the Father?' Believest thou not that I am in the Father, and the Father in me? The words that I say unto you I speak not from myself: but the Father abiding in me doeth his works. Believe me that I am in the Father, and the Father in me: or else believe me for the very works' sake. Verily, verily, I say unto you, He that believeth on me, the works that I do shall he do also: and greater works than these shall he do; because I go unto the Father. And whatsoever ye shall ask in my name, that will I do, that the Father may be glorified in the Son. If ye shall ask anything in my name, that will I do. If ye love me, ye will keep my commandments. And I will pray the Father, and he shall give you another Comforter, that he may be with you for ever, even the Spirit of truth: whom the world cannot receive; for it beholdeth him not, neither knoweth him: ye know him, for he abideth with you, and shall be in you. I will not leave you desolate: I come unto you. "Yet a little while, and the world beholdeth me no more; but ye behold me: because I live, ye shall live also. In that day ye shall know that I am in my Father, and ye in me, and I in you. He that hath my commandments, and keepeth them, he it is that loveth me: and he that loveth me shall be loved of my Father, and I will love him, and will manifest myself unto him." Judas (not Iscariot) saith unto him, "Lord, what is come to pass that thou wilt manifest thyself unto us, and not unto the world?" Jesus answered and said unto him, "If a man love me, he will keep my word: and my Father will love him, and we will come unto him, and make our abode with him. He that loveth me not keepeth not my words: and the word which ye hear is not mine, but the Father's who sent me. "These things have I spoken unto you, while yet abiding with you. But the Comforter, even the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in my name, he shall teach you all things, and bring to your remembrance all that I said unto you. Peace I leave with you; my peace I give unto you: not as the world giveth, give I unto you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be fearful. Ye heard how I said to you, I go away, and I come unto you. If ye loved me, ye would have rejoiced, because I go unto the Father: for the Father is greater than I. "And now I have told you before it come to pass, that, when it is come to pass, ye may believe. I will no more speak much with you, for the prince of the world cometh: and he hath nothing in me; but that the world may know that I love the Father, and as the Father gave me commandment, even so I do." * * * * * "I am the true vine, and my Father is the husbandman. Every branch in me that beareth not fruit, he taketh it away: and every branch that beareth fruit, he cleanseth it, that it may bear more fruit. Already ye are clean because of the word which I have spoken unto you. Abide in me, and I in you. As the branch cannot bear fruit of itself, except it abide in the vine; so neither can ye, except ye abide in me. I am the vine, ye are the branches: He that abideth in me, and I in him, the same beareth much fruit: for apart from me ye can do nothing. If a man abide not in me, he is cast forth as a branch, and is withered; and they gather them, and cast them into the fire, and they are burned. If ye abide in me, and my words abide in you, ask whatsoever ye will, and it shall be done unto you. Herein is my Father glorified, that ye bear much fruit: and so shall ye be my disciples. Even as the Father hath loved me, I also have loved you: abide ye in my love. If ye keep my commandments, ye shall abide in my love; even as I have kept my Father's commandments, and abide in his love. "These things have I spoken unto you, that my joy may be in you, and that your joy may be made full. This is my commandment, that ye love one another, even as I have loved you. Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends. Ye are my friends, if ye do the things which I command you. No longer do I call you servants; for the servant knoweth not what his lord doeth: but I have called you friends; for all things that I heard from my Father I have made known unto you. Ye did not choose me, but I chose you, and appointed you, that ye should go and bear fruit, and that your fruit should abide: that whatsoever ye shall ask of the Father in my name, he may give it you. These things I command you, that ye may love one another. If the world hated you, ye know that it hath hated me before it hated you. If ye were of the world, the world would love its own: but because ye are not of the world, but I chose you out of the world, therefore the world hateth you. Remember the word that I said unto you, A servant is not greater than his lord. If they persecuted me, they will also persecute you; if they kept my word, they will keep yours also. But all these things will they do unto you for my name's sake, because they know not him that sent me. If I had not come and spoken unto them, they had not had sin: but now they have no excuse for their sin. He that hateth me hateth my Father also. If I had not done among them the works which none other did, they had not had sin: but now have they both seen and hated me and my Father. But this cometh to pass, that the word may be fulfilled that is written in their law, 'They hated me without a cause.' But when the Comforter is come, whom I will send unto you from the Father, even the Spirit of truth, which proceedeth from the Father, he shall bear witness of me: and ye also bear witness, because ye have been with me from the beginning. "These things have I spoken unto you, that ye should not be caused to stumble. They shall put you out of the synagogues: yea, the hour cometh, that whosoever killeth you shall think that he offereth service unto God. And these things will they do, because they have not known the Father, nor me. But these things have I spoken unto you, that when their hour is come, ye may remember them, how that I told you. And these things I said not unto you from the beginning, because I was with you. But now I go unto him that sent me; and none of you asketh me, 'Whither goest thou?' But because I have spoken these things unto you, sorrow hath filled your heart. Nevertheless I tell you the truth: It is expedient for you that I go away; for if I go not away, the Comforter will not come unto you; but if I go, I will send him unto you. And he, when he is come, will convict the world in respect of sin, and of righteousness, and of judgment: of sin, because they believe not on me; of righteousness, because I go to the Father, and ye behold me no more; of judgment, because the prince of this world hath been judged. I have yet many things to say unto you, but ye cannot bear them now. Howbeit when he, the Spirit of truth, is come, he shall guide you into all the truth: for he shall not speak from himself; but what things soever he shall hear, these shall he speak: and he shall declare unto you the things that are to come. He shall glorify me: for he shall take of mine, and shall declare it unto you. All things whatsoever the Father hath are mine: therefore said I, that he taketh; of mine, and shall declare it unto you. A little while, and ye behold me no more; and again a little while, and ye shall see me." Some of his disciples therefore said one to another. "What is this that he saith unto us, 'A little while, and ye behold me not; and again a little while, and ye shall see me': and 'Because I go to the Father'?" They said therefore, "What is this that he saith, 'A little while'? We know not what he saith." Jesus perceived that they were desirous to ask him, and he said unto them, "Do ye inquire among yourselves concerning this, that I said, 'A little while, and ye behold me not, and again a little while, and ye shall see me?' Verily, verily, I say unto you, that ye shall weep and lament, but the world shall rejoice: ye shall be sorrowful, but your sorrow shall be turned into joy. A woman when she is in travail hath sorrow, because her hour is come: but when she is delivered of the child she remembereth no more the anguish, for the joy that a man is born into the world. And ye therefore now have sorrow: but I will see you again, and your heart shall rejoice, and your joy no one taketh away from you. And in that day ye shall ask me no question. Verily, verily, I say unto you, If ye shall ask anything of the Father, he will give it you in my name. Hitherto have ye asked nothing in my name: ask, and ye shall receive, that your joy may be made full. "These things have I spoken unto you in dark sayings: the hour cometh, when I shall no more speak unto you in dark sayings, but shall tell you plainly of the Father. In that day ye shall ask in my name: and I say not unto you, that I will pray the Father for you; for the Father himself loveth you, because ye have loved me, and have believed that I came forth from the Father. I came out from the Father, and am come into the world; again, I leave the world, and go unto the Father." His disciples say, "Lo, now speakest thou plainly, and speakest no dark saying. Now know we that thou knowest all things, and needest not that any man should ask thee: by this we believe that thou camest forth from God." Jesus answered them, "Do ye now believe? Behold, the hour cometh, yea, is come, that ye shall be scattered, every man to his own, and shall leave me alone: and yet I am not alone, because the Father is with me. These things have I spoken unto you, that in me ye may have peace. In the world ye have tribulation: but be of good cheer: I have overcome the world." THE INTERCESSORY PRAYER. These things spake Jesus; and lifting up his eyes to heaven, he said, "Father, the hour is come; glorify thy Son, that the Son may glorify thee: even as thou gavest him authority over all flesh, that to all whom thou hast given him, he should give eternal life. And this is life eternal, that they should know thee the only true God, and him whom thou didst send, even Jesus Christ. I glorified thee on the earth, having accomplished the work which thou hast given me to do. And now, Father, glorify thou me with thine own self with the glory which I had with thee before the world was. I manifested thy name unto the men whom thou gavest me out of the world: thine they were, and thou gavest them to me; and they have kept thy word. Now they know that all things whatsoever thou hast given me are from thee: for the words which thou gavest me I have given unto them; and they received them, and knew of a truth that I came forth from thee, and they believed that thou didst send me. I pray for them: I pray not for the world, but for those whom thou hast given me; for they are thine: and all things that are mine are thine, and thine are mine; and I am glorified in them. And I am no more in the world, and these are in the world, and I come to thee. Holy Father, keep them in thy name which thou hast given me, that they may be one, even as we are. While I was with them, I kept them in thy name which thou hast given me; and I guarded them, and not one of them perished, but the son of perdition; that the scripture might be fulfilled. But now I come to thee; and these things I speak in the world, that they may have my joy made full in themselves. I have given them thy word, and the world hated them, because they are not of the world, even as I am not of the world. I pray not that thou shouldest take them from the world, but that thou shouldst keep them from the evil one. They are not of the world, even as I am not of the world. Sanctify them in the truth: thy word is truth. As thou didst send me into the world, even so sent I them into the world. And for their sakes I sanctify myself, that they themselves also may be sanctified in truth. Neither for these only do I pray, but for them also that believe on me through their word; that they may all be one; even as thou, Father, art in me, and I in thee, that they also may be in us: that the world may believe that thou didst send me. And the glory which thou hast given me I have given unto them; that they may be one, even as we are one; I in them, and thou in me, that they may be perfected into one; that the world may know that thou didst send me, and lovedst them, even as thou lovedst me. Father, I desire that they also whom thou hast given me be with me where I am, that they may behold my glory, which thou hast given me: for thou lovedst me before the foundation of the world. O righteous Father, the world knew thee not, but I knew thee; and these knew that thou didst send me; and I made known unto them thy name, and will make it known; that the love wherewith thou lovedst me may be in them, and I in them." And when they had sung a hymn, they went out into the mount of Olives. FRIDAY--THE DAY OF SUFFERING THE AGONY IN GETHSEMANE. And they come unto a place which was named Gethsemane: and he saith unto his disciples, "Sit ye here, while I pray." And he taketh with him Peter and James and John, and began to be greatly amazed, and sore troubled. And he saith unto them, "My soul is exceeding sorrowful, even unto death: abide ye here, and watch." And he went forward a little, and fell on the ground, and prayed that, if it were possible, the hour might pass away from him. And he said, "Abba, Father, all things are possible unto thee; remove this cup from me: howbeit not what I will, but what thou wilt." And there appeared unto him an angel from heaven, strengthening him. And being in an agony, he prayed more earnestly; and his sweat became as it were great drops of blood falling down upon the ground. And when he rose up from his prayer, he came unto the disciples, and found them sleeping for sorrow, and said unto Peter, "Simon, sleepest thou? Couldest thou not watch one hour? Watch and pray, that ye enter not into temptation: the spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak." Again a second time he went away, and prayed, saying, "My Father, if this cannot pass away, except I drink it, thy will be done." And he came again and found them sleeping, for their eyes were heavy. And he left them again, and went away, and prayed a third time, saying the same words. Then cometh he to the disciples, and saith unto them, "Sleep on now, and take your rest: behold, the hour is at hand, and the Son of man is betrayed into the hands of sinners. "Arise, let us be going: behold, he is at hand that betrayeth me." THE BETRAYAL AND ARREST. And straightway, while he yet spake, cometh Judas, one of the twelve, and with him a multitude with swords and staves, from the chief priests and the scribes and the elders. Now he that betrayed him had given them a token, saying, "Whomsoever I shall kiss, that is he; take him, and lead him away safely." And when he was come, straightway he came to him, and saith, "Rabbi," and kissed him. But Jesus said unto him, "Judas, betrayest thou the Son of man with a kiss?" Jesus, therefore, knowing all the things that were coming upon him, went forth, and saith unto them. "Whom seek ye?" They answered him, "Jesus of Nazareth." Jesus saith unto them. "I am he." And Judas also, who betrayed him, was standing with them. When therefore he said unto them, "I am he," they went backward, and fell to the ground. Again therefore he asked them, "Whom seek ye?" And they said, "Jesus of Nazareth." Jesus answered, "I told you that I am he; if therefore ye seek me, let these go their way": that the word might be fulfilled which he spake, "Of those whom thou hast given me I lost not one." And when they that were about him saw what would follow, they said, "Lord, shall we smite with the sword?" Simon Peter therefore having a sword drew it, and struck the high priest's servant, and cut off his right ear. Now the servant's name was Malchus. But Jesus answered and said, "Suffer ye them thus far." And he touched his ear, and healed him. Then saith Jesus unto Peter, "Put up again thy sword into its place: for all they that take the sword shall perish with the sword. Or thinkest thou that I cannot beseech my Father and he shall even now send me more than twelve legions of angels? How then should the scriptures be fulfilled, that thus it must be? The cup which the Father hath given me, shall I not drink it?" And Jesus said unto the chief priest's and captains of the temple, and elders, that were come against him, "Are ye come out, as against a robber, with swords and staves? When I was daily with you in the temple, ye stretched not forth your hands against me: but this is your hour, and the power of darkness." Then all the disciples left him, and fled. And a certain young man followed with him, having a linen cloth cast about him, over his naked body; and they lay hold on him; but he left the linen cloth, and fled naked. THE TRIAL BEFORE THE JEWISH AUTHORITIES. So the band and the chief captain, and the officers of the Jews, seized Jesus and bound him, and led him to Annas first; for he was father in law to Caiaphas, who was high priest that year. Now Caiaphas was he that gave counsel to the Jews, that it was expedient that one man should die for the people. And Simon Peter followed Jesus, and so did another disciple. Now that disciple was known unto the high priest, and entered in with Jesus into the court of the high priest; but Peter was standing at the door without. So the other disciple, who was known unto the high priest, went out and spake unto her that kept the door, and brought in Peter. The maid therefore that kept the door saith unto Peter, "Art thou also one of this man's disciples?" He saith, "I am not." Now the servants and the officers were standing there, having made a fire of coals; for it was cold; and they were warming themselves; and Peter also was with them standing and warming himself. The high priest therefore asked Jesus of his disciples, and of his teaching. Jesus answered him, "I have spoken openly to the world; I ever taught in synagogues, and in the temple, where all the Jews come together; and in secret spake I nothing. Why askest thou me? Ask them that have heard me, what I spake unto them: behold, these know the things which I said." And when he had said this, one of the officers standing by struck Jesus with his hand, saying, "Answerest thou the high priest so?" Jesus answered him, "If I have spoken evil, bear witness of the evil; but if well, why smitest thou me?" Annas therefore sent him bound unto Caiaphas the high priest. Now the chief priests and the whole council sought witness against Jesus to put him to death; and found it not. For many bare false witness against him, and their witness agreed not together. And there stood up certain, and bare false witness against him, saying, "We heard him say, I will destroy this temple that is made with hands, and in three days I will build another made without hands." And not even so did their witness agree together. And the high priest stood up in the midst, and asked Jesus, saying, "Answerest thou nothing? What is it which these witness against thee?" But he held his peace, and answered nothing. And the high priest said unto him, "I adjure thee by the living God, that thou tell us whether thou art the Christ, the Son of God." And Jesus said, "I am: and ye shall see the Son of man sitting at the right hand of Power, and coming with the clouds of heaven." And the high priest rent his clothes, and saith, "What further need have we of witnesses? Ye have heard the blasphemy: what think ye?" And they all condemned him to be worthy of death. Then did they spit in his face and buffet him. And they blindfolded him and smote him with the palms of their hands, saying, "Prophesy unto us, thou Christ: who is he that struck thee?" THE DENIAL OF PETER. And as Peter was beneath in the court, there cometh one of the maids of the high priest; and seeing Peter warming himself, she looked upon him, and saith, "Thou also wast with the Nazarene, even Jesus." But he denied, saying, "I neither know nor understand what thou sayest," and he went out into the porch; and the cock crew. And after a little while they that stood by came and said to Peter, "Of a truth thou also art one of them; for thy speech maketh thee known." Then began he to curse and to swear, "I know not the man." And straightway the cock crew. And the Lord turned, and looked upon Peter. And Peter remembered the word of the Lord, how that he said unto him, "Before the cock crow twice thou shalt deny me thrice." And he went out, and wept bitterly. * * * * * And straightway in the morning the chief priests with the elders and scribes, and the whole council, held a consultation, and bound Jesus, and carried him away, and delivered him up to Pilate, the governor. THE REMORSE OF JUDAS. Then Judas, who betrayed him, when he saw that he was condemned, repented himself, and brought back the thirty pieces of silver to the chief priests and elders, saying, "I have sinned in that I betrayed innocent blood." But they said, "What is that to us? See thou to it." And he cast down the pieces of silver into the sanctuary, and departed; and he went away and hanged himself. And the chief priests took the pieces of silver, and said, "It is not lawful to put them into the treasury, since it is the price of blood." And they took counsel, and bought with them the potter's field, to bury strangers in. Wherefore that field was called, "The field of blood," unto this day. Then was fulfilled that which was spoken through Jeremiah the prophet, saying, "And they took the thirty pieces of silver, the price of him that was priced, whom certain of the children of Israel did price; and they gave them for the potter's field, as the Lord appointed me." THE TRIAL BEFORE PILATE. They lead Jesus therefore from Caiaphas into the Prætorium: and it was early; and they themselves entered not into the Prætorium, that they might not be defiled, but might eat the passover. Pilate therefore went out unto them, and saith, "What accusation bring ye against this man?" They answered and said unto him, "If this man were not an evil-doer, we should not have delivered him up unto thee." Pilate therefore said unto them, "Take him yourselves, and judge him according to your law." The Jews said unto him, "It is not lawful for us to put any man to death": that the word of Jesus might be fulfilled, which he spake, signifying by what manner of death he should die. And they began to accuse him, saying, "We found this man perverting our nation, and forbidding to give tribute to Cæsar, and saying that he himself is Christ a king." And when he was accused by the chief priests and elders, he answered nothing. Then saith Pilate unto him, "Hearest thou not how many things they witness against thee?" And he gave him no answer, not even to one word: insomuch that the governor marvelled greatly. Pilate therefore entered again into the Prætorium, and called Jesus, and said unto him, "Art thou the King of the Jews?" Jesus answered, "Sayest thou this of thyself, or did others tell it thee concerning me?" Pilate answered, "Am I a Jew? Thine own nation and the chief priests delivered thee unto me: what hast thou done?" Jesus answered, "My kingdom is not of this world: if my kingdom were of this world, then would my servants fight, that I should not be delivered to the Jews; but now is my kingdom not from hence." Pilate therefore said unto him, "Art thou a king then?" Jesus answered, "Thou sayest that I am a king. To this end have I been born, and to this end am I come into the world, that I should bear witness unto the truth. Every one that is of the truth heareth my voice." Pilate saith unto him, "What is truth?" And when he had said this, he went out again unto the Jews, and saith unto them, "I find no crime in him." But they were the more urgent, saying, "He stirreth up the people, teaching throughout all Judæa, and beginning from Galilee, even unto this place." But when Pilate heard it, he asked whether the man were a Galilæan. And when he knew that he was of Herod's jurisdiction, he sent him unto Herod, who himself also was at Jerusalem in these days. JESUS BEFORE HEROD. Now when Herod saw Jesus, he was exceeding glad; for he was of a long time desirous to see him, because he had heard concerning him; and he hoped to see some miracle done by him. And he questioned him in many words; but he answered him nothing. And the chief priests and the scribes stood, vehemently accusing him. And Herod with his soldiers set him at nought, and mocked him, and arraying him in gorgeous apparel sent him back to Pilate. And Herod and Pilate became friends with each other that very day: for before they were at enmity between themselves. THE TRIAL BEFORE PILATE RESUMED. And Pilate called together the chief priests and the rulers and the people, and said unto them, "Ye brought unto me this man, as one that perverteth the people: and behold, I, having examined him before you, found no fault in this man touching those things whereof ye accuse him: no, nor yet Herod: for he sent him back unto us; and behold, nothing worthy of death hath been done by him. I will therefore chastise him, and release him." Now at the feast the governor was wont to release unto the multitude one prisoner, whom they would. And they had then a notable prisoner, called Barabbas, lying bound with them that had made insurrection, men who in the insurrection had committed murder. And the multitude went up and began to ask him to do as he was wont to do unto them. And Pilate answered them, saying, "Will ye that I release unto you the King of the Jews?" For he perceived that for envy the chief priests had delivered him up. Now the chief priests and the elders persuaded the multitudes that they should ask for Barabbas, and destroy Jesus. But the governor answered and said unto them, "Which of the two will ye that I release unto you?" And they said, "Barabbas." Pilate saith unto them, "What then shall I do unto Jesus who is called Christ?" They all say, "Let him be crucified." And he said unto them a third time, "Why, what evil hath this man done? I have found no cause of death in him: I will therefore chastise and release him." Then Pilate therefore took Jesus, and scourged him. And the soldiers led him away within the court, which is the Prætorium; and they call together the whole band. And they stripped him, and arrayed him in a purple garment. And they platted a crown of thorns and put it upon his head, and a reed in his right hand; and they kneeled down before him, and mocked him, saying: "Hail, King of the Jews!" and they struck him with their hands. And they spat upon him, and took the reed and smote him upon the head. And Pilate went out again, and saith unto them, "Behold, I bring him out to you, that ye may know that I find no crime in him." Jesus therefore came out, wearing the crown of thorns and the purple garment. And Pilate saith unto them, "Behold, the man!" When therefore the chief priests and the officers saw him, they cried out, saying, "Crucify him, crucify him!" Pilate saith unto them, "Take him yourselves, and crucify him: for I find no crime in him." The Jews answered him, "We have a law, and by that law he ought to die, because he made himself the Son of God." When Pilate therefore heard this saying, he was the more afraid; and he entered into the Prætorium again, and saith unto Jesus, "Whence art thou?" But Jesus gave him no answer. Pilate therefore saith unto him, "Speakest thou not unto me? Knowest thou not that I have power to release thee, and have power to crucify thee?" Jesus answered him, "Thou wouldest have no power against me, except it were given thee from above: therefore he that delivered me unto thee hath greater sin." Upon this Pilate sought to release him: but the Jews cried out, saying, "If thou release this man, thou art not Cæsar's friend: every one that maketh himself a king speaketh against Cæsar." When Pilate therefore heard these words, he brought Jesus out, and sat down on the judgment-seat at a place called The Pavement, but in Hebrew, Gabbatha. And while he was sitting on the judgment-seat, his wife sent unto him, saying, "Have thou nothing to do with that righteous man; for I have suffered many things this day in a dream because of him." Now it was the Preparation of the passover: it was about the sixth hour. And he saith unto the Jews, "Behold, your King." They therefore cried out, "Away with him, away with him, crucify him!" Pilate saith unto them, "Shall I crucify your King?" The chief priests answered, "We have no king but Cæsar." So when Pilate saw that he prevailed nothing, but rather that a tumult was arising, he took water, and washed his hands before the multitude, saying, "I am innocent of the blood of this righteous man; see ye to it." And all the people answered and said, "His blood be on us, and on our children." And they were urgent with loud voices asking that he might be crucified. And their voices prevailed. And Pilate, wishing to content the multitude, gave sentence that what they asked for should be done. And he released unto them Barabbas, him that for insurrection and murder had been cast into prison, whom they asked for; but Jesus he delivered up to their will. And when they had mocked him, they took off from him the robe, and put on him his garments, and led him away to crucify him. THE SORROWFUL WAY. They took Jesus therefore: and he went out, bearing the cross for himself. And as they came out, they laid hold upon one Simon of Cyrene, the father of Alexander and Rufus, who was passing by, coming from the country; him they compelled to go with them, and laid on him the cross, that he might bear it after Jesus. And there followed him a great multitude of the people, and of women who bewailed and lamented him. But Jesus turning unto them said, "Daughters of Jerusalem, weep not for me, but weep for yourselves, and for your children. For behold, the days are coming, in which they shall say, 'Blessed are the barren, and the wombs that never bare, and the breasts that never gave suck.' Then shall they begin to say to the mountains, 'Fall on us;' and to the hills, 'Cover us.' For if they do these things in the green tree, what shall be done in the dry?" And there were also two others, malefactors, led with him to be put to death. THE CRUCIFIXION. And when they were come unto a place called Golgotha, that is to say, The place of a skull, they gave him wine to drink mingled with gall: and when he had tasted it, he would not drink. There they crucified him, and the malefactors, one on the right hand and the other on the left. And Jesus said, "Father, forgive them; for they know not what they do." And Pilate wrote a title also, and put it on the cross. And there was written: JESUS OF NAZARETH, THE KING OF THE JEWS. This title therefore read many of the Jews, for the place where Jesus was crucified was nigh to the city; and it was written in Hebrew, and in Latin, and in Greek. The chief priests of the Jews therefore said to Pilate, "Write not, 'The King of the Jews,' but that he said, 'I am King of the Jews.'" Pilate answered, "What I have written I have written." The soldiers therefore, when they had crucified Jesus, took his garments and made four parts, to every soldier a part; and also the coat: now the coat was without seam, woven from the top throughout. They said therefore one to another, "Let us not rend it, but cast lots for it, whose it shall be": that the scripture might be fulfilled, which saith, "They parted my garments among them, And upon my vesture did they cast lots." These things therefore the soldiers did; and they sat and watched him there. And the people stood beholding. And they that passed by railed on him, wagging their heads, and saying, "Thou that destroyest the temple, and buildest it in three days, save thyself: if thou art the Son of God, come down from the cross." In like manner also, the chief priests mocking him, with the scribes and elders, said, "He saved others; himself he cannot save. Let the Christ, the King of Israel, now come down from the cross, that we may see and believe. He trusteth on God; let him deliver him now, if he desireth him: for he said, I am the Son of God." And one of the malefactors that were hanged railed on him, saying, "Art not thou the Christ? Save thyself and us." But the other answered, and rebuking him said, "Dost thou not even fear God, seeing thou art in the same condemnation? And we indeed justly; for we receive the due reward of our deeds: but this man hath done nothing amiss." And he said, "Jesus, remember me when thou comest in thy kingdom." And he said unto him, "Verily I say unto thee, To-day shalt thou be with me in Paradise." But there were standing by the cross of Jesus his mother, and his mother's sister, Mary the wife of Clopas, and Mary Magdalene. When Jesus therefore saw his mother, and the disciple standing by whom he loved, he saith unto his mother, "Woman, behold thy son!" Then saith he to the disciple, "Behold, thy mother!" And from that hour the disciple took her unto his own home. And when the sixth hour was come, there was darkness over the whole land until the ninth hour. And at the ninth hour Jesus cried with a loud voice, "Eloi, Eloi, lama sabachthani?" which is, being interpreted. "My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me." And some of them that stood by, when they heard it, said, "Behold, he calleth Elijah." After this, Jesus, knowing that all things are now finished, that the scripture might be accomplished, saith, "I thirst." There was set there a vessel full of vinegar: so they put a sponge full of the vinegar upon hyssop, and brought it to his mouth. When Jesus therefore had received the vinegar, he said, "It is finished." And Jesus, crying with a loud voice, said, "Father, into thy hands I commend my spirit," and having said this, he gave up the ghost. And behold, the veil of the temple was rent in two from the top to the bottom; and the earth did quake; and the rocks were rent; and the tombs were opened; and many bodies of the saints that had fallen asleep were raised; and coming forth out of the tombs after his resurrection they entered into the holy city and appeared unto many. Now the centurion, and they that were with him watching Jesus, when they saw the earthquake, and the things that were done, feared exceedingly, saying, "Truly this was the Son of God." And all the multitudes that came together to this sight, when they beheld the things that were done, returned smiting their breasts. And many women were there beholding from afar, who had followed Jesus from Galilee, ministering unto him; among whom was Mary Magdalene, and Mary the mother of James and Joses, and the mother of the sons of Zebedee. The Jews therefore, because it was the Preparation, that the bodies should not remain on the cross upon the sabbath (for the day of that sabbath was a high day), asked of Pilate that their legs might be broken and that they might be taken away. The soldiers therefore came, and brake the legs of the first, and of the other that was crucified with him: but when they came to Jesus, and saw that he was dead already, they brake not his legs: howbeit one of the soldiers with a spear pierced his side, and straightway there came out blood and water. And he that hath seen hath borne witness, and his witness is true: and he knoweth that he saith true, that ye also may believe. For these things came to pass, that the scripture might be fulfilled, "A bone of him shall not be broken." And again another scripture saith, "They shall look on him whom they pierced." THE BURIAL. And after these things, when even was come, there came a rich man from Arimathæa, named Joseph, a councillor of honorable estate, a disciple of Jesus, but secretly for fear of the Jews; and he boldly went in unto Pilate and asked for the body of Jesus. And Pilate marvelled if he were already dead: and calling unto him the centurion, he asked him whether he had been any while dead. And when he learned it of the centurion, he granted the corpse to Joseph. He came therefore, and took away his body. And there came also Nicodemus, he who at the first came to him by night, bringing a mixture of myrrh and aloes, about a hundred pounds. So they took the body of Jesus, and bound it in linen cloths with the spices, as the custom of the Jews is to bury. Now in the place where he was crucified there was a garden: and in the garden a new tomb wherein was never man yet laid. There then because of the Jews' Preparation (for the tomb was nigh at hand), they laid Jesus; and rolled a stone against the door of the tomb. And Mary Magdalene and Mary the mother of Jesus beheld the tomb, and how his body was laid. And they returned, and prepared spices and ointments. SATURDAY--THE DAY OF SILENCE AND SORROW THE WATCH AT THE TOMB. Now on the morrow, which is the day after the Preparation, the chief priests and the Pharisees were gathered together unto Pilate, saying, "Sir, we remember that that deceiver said while he was yet alive, 'After three days I rise again.' Command therefore that the sepulchre be made sure until the third day, lest haply his disciples come and steal him away, and say unto the people, 'He is risen from the dead,' and the last error will be worse than the first." Pilate said unto them, "Ye have a guard: go, make it as sure as ye can." So they went, and made the sepulchre sure, sealing the stone, the guard being with them. =HIS RESURRECTION= * * * * * SUNDAY--THE DAY OF RESURRECTION THE EARTHQUAKE. And behold, there was a great earthquake; for an angel of the Lord descended from heaven, and came and rolled away the stone, and sat upon it. His appearance was as lightning, and his raiment white as snow: and for fear of him the watchers did quake, and became as dead men. THE EMPTY TOMB. Now on the first day of the week cometh Mary Magdalene early, while it was yet dark, unto the tomb, and seeth the stone taken away from the tomb. She runneth therefore, and cometh to Simon Peter, and to the other disciple whom Jesus loved, and saith unto them, "They have taken away the Lord out of the tomb, and we know not where they have laid him." Peter therefore went forth, and the other disciple, and they went toward the tomb. And they ran both together: and the other disciple outran Peter, and came first to the tomb; and stooping and looking in, he seeth the linen cloths lying; yet entered he not in. Simon Peter therefore also cometh, following him, and entered into the tomb; and he beholdeth the linen cloths lying, and the napkin, that was upon his head, not lying with the linen cloths, but rolled up in a place by itself. Then entered in therefore the other disciple also, who came first to the tomb, and he saw, and believed. For as yet they knew not the scripture, that he must rise again from the dead. So the disciples went away again unto their own home. THE APPEARANCE TO MARY. But Mary was standing without at the tomb weeping: so, as she wept, she stooped and looked into the tomb; and she beholdeth two angels in white sitting, one at the head, and one at the feet, where the body of Jesus had lain. And they say unto her, "Woman, why weepest thou?" She saith unto them, "Because they have taken away my Lord, and I know not where they have laid him." When she had thus said, she turned herself back, and beholdeth Jesus standing, and knew not that it was Jesus. Jesus saith unto her, "Woman, why weepest thou? Whom seekest thou?" She, supposing him to be the gardener, saith unto him, "Sir, if thou hast borne him hence, tell me where thou hast laid him, and I will take him away." Jesus saith unto her, "Mary." She turneth herself, and saith unto him in Hebrew, "Rabboni"; which is to say, "Teacher." Jesus saith to her, "Touch me not; for I am not yet ascended unto the Father: but go unto my brethren, and say to them, 'I ascend unto my Father, and your Father, and my God and your God.'" Mary Magdalene cometh and telleth the disciples, "I have seen the Lord"; and that he had said these things unto her. THE APPEARANCE TO THE WOMEN. And the women which had come with him out of Galilee came unto the tomb, bringing the spices which they had prepared. And they were saying among themselves, "Who shall roll us away the stone from the door of the tomb?" and looking up, they see that the stone is rolled back: for it was exceeding great. And entering into the tomb, they saw a young man sitting on the right side arrayed in a white robe; and they were amazed. And he saith unto them, "Be not amazed: ye seek Jesus, the Nazarene, who hath been crucified: he is risen; he is not here: behold, the place where they laid him! But go, tell his disciples and Peter, 'He goeth before you into Galilee: there shall ye see him, as he said unto you.'" And they departed quickly from the tomb with fear and great joy, and ran to bring his disciples word. And behold, Jesus met them, saying, "All hail." And they came and took hold of his feet, and worshipped him. Then saith Jesus unto them, "Fear not: go tell my brethren that they depart into Galilee, and there shall they see me." REPORT OF THE WATCH. Now while they were going, behold, some of the guard came into the city, and told unto the chief priests all the things that were come to pass. And when they were assembled with the elders, and had taken counsel, they gave much money unto the soldiers, saying, "Say ye, 'His disciples came by night, and stole him away while we slept.' And if this come to the governor's ears, we will persuade him, and rid you of care." So they took the money and did as they were taught: and this saying was spread abroad among the Jews, and continueth until this day. THE APPEARANCE AT EMMAUS. And behold, two of them were going that very day to a village named Emmaus, which was three-score furlongs from Jerusalem. And they communed with each other of all these things which had happened. And it came to pass, while they communed and questioned together, that Jesus himself drew near, and went with them. But their eyes were holden that they should not know him. And he said unto them, "What communications are these that ye have one with another, as ye walk?" And they stood still, looking sad. And one of them, named Cleopas, answering, said unto him, "Dost thou alone sojourn in Jerusalem and not know the things which are come to pass there in these days?" And he said unto them, "What things?" And they said unto him, "The things concerning Jesus the Nazarene, who was a prophet mighty in deed and word before God, and all the people: and how the chief priests and our rulers delivered him up to be condemned to death, and crucified him. But we hoped that it was he who should redeem Israel. Yea, and besides all this, it is now the third day since these things came to pass. Moreover, certain women of our company amazed us, having been early at the tomb; and when they found not his body, they came, saying, that they had also seen a vision of angels, who said that he was alive. And certain of them that were with us went to the tomb, and found it even so as the women had said: but him they saw not." And he said unto them, "O foolish men, and slow of heart to believe in all that the prophets have spoken! Behooved it not the Christ to suffer these things, and to enter into his glory?" And beginning from Moses and from all the prophets, he interpreted to them in all the scriptures the things concerning himself. And they drew nigh unto the village, whither they were going: and he made as though he would go further. And they constrained him, saying, "Abide with us; for it is toward evening, and the day is now far spent." And he went in to abide with them. And it came to pass, when he had sat down with them to meat, he took the bread and blessed; and breaking it, he gave to them. And their eyes were opened, and they knew him; and he vanished out of their sight. And they said one to another, "Was not our heart burning within us, while he spake to us in the way, while he opened to us the scriptures?" And they rose up that very hour, and returned to Jerusalem, and found the eleven gathered together, and them that were with them, saying, "The Lord is risen indeed, and hath appeared to Simon." And they rehearsed the things that happened in the way, and how he was known of them in the breaking of the bread. THE APPEARANCE TO THE DISCIPLES. When therefore it was evening, on that day, the first day of the week, and when the doors were shut where the disciples were, for fear of the Jews, Jesus came and stood in the midst and saith unto them, "Peace be unto you." But they were terrified and affrighted, and supposed that they beheld a spirit. And he said unto them, "Why are ye troubled? and wherefore do questionings arise in your heart? See my hands and my feet, that it is I myself: handle me, and see; for a spirit hath not flesh and bones, as ye behold me having." And when he had said this, he showed them his hands and his feet. And while they still disbelieved for joy, and wondered, he said unto them, "Have ye here anything to eat?" And they gave him a piece of a broiled fish. And he took it, and ate before them. Jesus therefore said to them again, "Peace be unto you: as the Father hath sent me, even so send I you." And when he had said this, he breathed on them, and saith unto them, "Receive ye the Holy Spirit: whose soever sins ye forgive, they are forgiven unto them; whose soever sins ye retain, they are retained." AFTER THE RESURRECTION DAY THE APPEARANCE TO THE DISCIPLES AND TO THOMAS. But Thomas, one of the twelve, called Didymus, was not with them when Jesus came. The other disciples therefore said unto him, "We have seen the Lord." But he said unto them, "Except I shall see in his hands the print of the nails, and put my finger into the print of the nails, and put my hand into his side, I will not believe." And after eight days again his disciples were within, and Thomas with them. Jesus cometh, the doors being shut, and stood in the midst, and said, "Peace be unto you." Then saith he to Thomas, "Reach hither thy finger, and see my hands; and reach hither thy hand, and put it into my side: and be not faithless, but believing." Thomas answered and said unto him, "My Lord and my God." Jesus saith unto him, "Because thou hast seen me, thou hast believed: blessed are they that have not seen, and yet have believed." THE APPEARANCE TO THE SEVEN BY THE SEA. After these things Jesus manifested himself again to the disciples at the sea of Tiberias; and he manifested himself on this wise. There were together Simon Peter, and Thomas called Didymus and Nathanael of Cana in Galilee, and the sons of Zebedee, and two other of his disciples. Simon Peter saith unto them, "I go a fishing." They say unto him, "We also come with thee." They went forth, and entered into the boat; and that night they took nothing. But when day was now breaking, Jesus stood on the beach: yet the disciples knew not that it was Jesus. Jesus therefore saith unto them, "Children, have ye aught to eat?" They answered him, "No." And he said unto them, "Cast the net on the right side of the boat, and ye shall find." They cast therefore, and now they were not able to draw it for the multitude of fishes. That disciple therefore whom Jesus loved saith unto Peter, "It is the Lord". So when Simon Peter heard that it was the Lord, he girt his coat about him (for he was naked), and cast himself into the sea. But the other disciples came in the little boat (for they were not far from the land, but about two hundred cubits off), dragging the net full of fishes. So when they got out upon the land, they see a fire of coals there, and fish laid thereon, and bread. Jesus saith unto them, "Bring of the fish which ye have now taken." Simon Peter therefore went up, and drew the net to land, full of great fishes, a hundred and fifty and three; and for all there were so many, the net was not rent. Jesus saith unto them, "Come and break your fast." And none of the disciples durst inquire of him, "Who art thou?" knowing that it was the Lord. Jesus cometh, and taketh the bread, and giveth them, and the fish likewise. This is now the third time that Jesus was manifested to the disciples, after that he was risen from the dead. So when they had broken their fast, Jesus saith to Simon Peter, "Simon, son of John, lovest thou me more than these?" He saith unto him, "Yea, Lord; thou knowest that I love thee." He saith unto him, "Feed my lambs." He saith unto him again a second time, "Simon, son of John, lovest thou me?" He saith unto him, "Yea, Lord, thou knowest that I love thee." He saith unto him, "Tend my sheep." He saith unto him the third time, "Simon, son of John, lovest thou me?" Peter was grieved because he said unto him the third time, "Lovest thou me?" And he said unto him, "Lord, thou knowest all things; thou knowest that I love thee." Jesus saith unto him, "Feed my sheep. Verily, verily, I say unto thee, When thou wast young, thou girdedst thyself, and walkedst whither thou wouldest; but when thou shalt be old, thou shalt stretch forth thy hands, and another shall gird thee, and carry thee whither thou wouldest not." Now this he spake, signifying by what manner of death he should glorify God. And when he had spoken this, he saith unto him, "Follow me." Peter, turning about, seeth the disciple whom Jesus loved following; who also leaned back on his breast at the supper, and said, "Lord, who is he that betrayeth thee?" Peter therefore seeing him saith to Jesus, "Lord, and what shall this man do?" Jesus saith unto him, "If I will that he tarry till I come, what is that to thee? Follow thou me." This saying therefore went forth among the brethren, that that disciple should not die: yet Jesus said not unto him, that he should not die, but, "If I will that he tarry till I come, what is that to thee?" THE APPEARANCE TO THE ELEVEN ON THE MOUNTAIN. The eleven disciples went into Galilee, unto the mountain where Jesus had appointed them. And when they saw him, they worshipped him; but some doubted. And Jesus came to them and spake unto them, saying, "All authority hath been given unto me in heaven and on earth. Go ye therefore, and make disciples of all the nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit: teaching them to observe all things whatsoever I commanded you: and lo, I am with you always, even unto the end of the world." THE LAST APPEARANCE AND ASCENSION. And he said unto them, "These are my words which I spake unto you, while I was yet with you, that all things must needs be fulfilled, which are written in the law of Moses, and the prophets, and the psalms, concerning me." Then opened he their mind, that they might understand the scriptures; and he said unto them, "Thus it is written, that the Christ should suffer, and rise again from the dead the third day; and that repentance and remission of sins should be preached in his name unto all the nations, beginning from Jerusalem. Ye are witnesses of these things. And behold, I send forth the promise of my Father upon you: but tarry ye in the city, until ye be clothed with power from on high." And he led them out until they were over against Bethany: and he lifted up his hands, and blessed them. And it came to pass, while he blessed them, he parted from them, and was carried up into heaven. And they worshipped him, and returned to Jerusalem with great joy: and were continually in the temple, blessing God. * * * * * MANY OTHER SIGNS THEREFORE DID JESUS IN THE PRESENCE OF THE DISCIPLES WHICH ARE NOT WRITTEN IN THIS BOOK, BUT THESE ARE WRITTEN, THAT YE MAY BELIEVE THAT JESUS IS THE CHRIST, THE SON OF GOD; AND THAT BELIEVING YE MAY HAVE LIFE IN HIS NAME. 
16307	----	THE ASCENT OF THE SOUL BY AMORY H. BRADFORD, D.D. AUTHOR OF "SPIRIT AND LIFE," "HEREDITY AND CHRISTIAN PROBLEMS" "THE GROWING REVELATION," "THE AGE OF FAITH" "MESSAGES OF THE MASTERS," ETC. NEW YORK THE OUTLOOK COMPANY 1902 Copyright, 1902 By The Outlook Company Mount Pleasant Press J. Horace McFarland Company Harrisburg, Pennsylvania To The Memory of My Father _That each, who seems a separate whole, Should move his rounds, and fusing all The skirts of self again, should fall Remerging in the general Soul, Is faith as vague as all unsweet: Eternal form shall still divide The eternal soul from all beside; And I shall know him when we meet._ --_In Memoriam._ INTRODUCTION The purpose of the following chapters will be evident to all who may care to peruse them. I have endeavored simply to read the soul of man with something of the care that one reads a book containing a message which he believes to be of importance. While one class of scientists are seeking to explore the physical universe, another class, with equal care, are studying the human spirit, and, already, startling discoveries have been made. My work is in no sense new in kind, but it is such as one whose whole time is devoted to dealing with the inner life would naturally give to such a subject. It hardly needs to be added that my method is practical rather than speculative. I am more interested in helping the ascent of the soul than in accounting for its origin. In carrying out my plan I have considered the following subjects: The nature and genesis of the soul, its awakening to a consciousness of responsibility, the steps which it first takes on its upward pathway, the experience of moral failure, its second awakening, which is to an appreciation that the universe is on its side, the part of Christ in promoting its awakening, the sense of spiritual companionship by which it is ever attended, the discipline of struggle, and the nurture and culture best fitted to promote its growth. I have also sought to read some of the prophecies of the soul, and have found them all pointing toward a continuance of its being beyond the event called death, and toward the fullness of Christ as the goal of humanity. I have found a place for prayers for the departed even among Protestants of the strictest sects. A study of the soul, like a study of history, inspires optimism. It is hard to believe that it could have been intended first for perfection and then for extinction. It is equally difficult to believe that any soul will, in the end, be "cast as rubbish to the void." In these studies I have tried ever to be mindful of my own limitations, and not to forget that a fraction of humanity can never hope to comprehend the fullness of truth. Of that side of the spiritual sphere which has been turned toward me, and of that alone, have I presumed to write. All that I claim for this book is that it is the contribution of one, anxious to know what is true, toward a better understanding of a subject which is daily receiving wider recognition and more thorough consideration. AMORY H. BRADFORD. MONTCLAIR, NEW JERSEY, _August 30, 1902._ CONTENTS Page The Soul 1 The Awakening of the Soul 25 The First Steps 47 Hindrances 71 The Austere 97 Re-Awakening 125 The Place of Jesus Christ 151 The Inseparable Companion 181 Nurture and Culture 209 Is Death the End? 237 Prayers for the Dead 265 The Goal 289 THE SOUL It is no spirit who from heaven hath flown And is descending on his embassy; Nor traveler gone from earth the heaven t'espy! 'Tis Hesperus--there he stands with glittering crown, First admonition that the sun is down,-- For yet it is broad daylight!--clouds pass by; A few are near him still--and now the sky, He hath it to himself--'tis all his own. O most ambitious star! an inquest wrought Within me when I recognized thy light; A moment I was startled at the sight; And, while I gazed, there came to me a thought That even I beyond my natural race Might step as thou dost now:--might one day trace Some ground not mine; and, strong her strength above, My soul, an apparition in the place, Tread there, with steps that no one shall reprove! --Wordsworth. I _THE SOUL_ Subjects which a few years ago were regarded as the exclusive property of cultured thinkers, are now common themes of thought and conversation. Psychology has been popularized. Materialistic doctrines are at a discount even in this age of physical science. It is difficult to explain the somewhat sudden appearance of intense interest in questions which have to do with the life of the spirit; but, whatever the theory of its genesis, there is no doubt of its presence. This, therefore, is a favorable time for a somewhat extended study of the stages through which we pass in our spiritual growth. I shall endeavor to use the inductive method in this inquiry, and trust that I am not presumptuous in giving to these essays the title, THE ASCENT OF THE SOUL. The phrases, "The Ascent of Man" and "The Descent of Man" are familiar to all readers of the literature of modern science. One of the most eminent of American writers on science and philosophy too soon taken from his work, if any act of Providence is ever too soon, has made a clear distinction between evolution as applied to the body and as applied to the spirit. In lucid and luminous pages he has taught us that evolution, as a physical process, having culminated in man can go no further along those lines; that henceforward "the Cosmic force" will be expended in the perfection of the spirit, and that that process will require eternity to complete. More perspicuously than any other author, John Fiske has introduced to modern English thought the conception of the ascent of the soul, considered in its relation to the individual and to the race. This subject naturally divides itself into two departments, viz.--the ascent of each individual soul and, then, the far-off perfecting of humanity. I shall make suggestions along both lines of inquiry. I do not know of any writer who has, in a compact form, presented the results of such studies, although there have been illustrations, especially in literature, which indicate that many thinkers have had in mind the attempt to trace and describe the progress of the soul from its bondage to animalism toward its perfection and glory in the freedom of the spirit. Goethe, in "Faust," has made an effort to follow the process by which a weak woman and a weaker man, ignorant of the forces struggling within them and susceptible to malign influences from without, through terrible mistakes and bitter failure, at length reach the heights of character. The Trilogy of Dante is a study of the soul in its slow and painful passage from hell, through purgatory, to heaven. Perhaps, however, the noblest and truest effort in this direction to be found in the world's literature is "The Pilgrim's Progress," in which a man of glorious genius and vision, but without academic culture, reflecting too much the crude and materialistic theology of his time and condition, follows the progress of a soul in its movement from the City of Destruction to the City Celestial. The City of Destruction is the state of animalism and selfishness from which the race has slowly emerged; and the City Celestial is not only the Christian's heaven, but also the state of those who, having escaped from earthliness, having conquered animalism and risen into the freedom of the spirit, breathe the air and enjoy the companionship of the sons of God. It is my purpose in a different way to attempt to trace some of the steps of what may be called the evolution of the spirit, or, in the light of modern knowledge, the growth of the soul as it moves upward. At the outset I must make it plain that I am speaking of evolution since the time when man as a spirit appeared. Given the spiritual being, what are the stages through which he will pass on his way to the goal toward which he is surely pressing? Just here we should ask, What do we mean by the soul? The word is used in its popular sense, as synonymous with spirit or personality. Man has a dual nature; one part of his being is of the dust and to the dust it returns; the other part is a mystery; it is known only by what it does. Man thinks, loves, chooses, and is conscious of himself as thinking, loving, choosing. The unity of this being who thinks, loves, chooses in a single self-consciousness constitutes him a spirit, or personality; and that is what the word soul signifies in its popular usage. There is another technical definition which may be true or false but which is of no importance in our study. The problem of life is the right adjustment of spirit and body, so that the former shall never be the servant but always the master of the latter. We are on this earth, in the midst of darkness, with nothing absolutely sure except that in a little while we must die. We are two-fold beings in which there is war almost from the cradle to the grave, and that war is caused by the effort of the body to rule the soul and of the soul to conquer the body. At the gates of this mystery we continually do cry, and little light comes from any quarter; indeed, it may be said no light except that of the Christian revelation, and the, as yet, not very pronounced prophecies of evolution. One of the questions, which in all ages has been most persistently asked, concerns the origin of the soul. Perhaps, in reality, that is no more mysterious than the genesis of the body; but the body is material and we live in a world of matter, and it is comparatively easy to see that our bodies are from the earth which they inhabit. Our souls, however, are invisible, immaterial, ethereal. There is no evident kinship between a thought and a stone, between love and the soil which produces vegetables, between a heroic choice and the stuff of the earth, between spirit and matter. Well, then, whence does the soul come? It will be interesting at least to recall a few of the many answers which have been given to this inquiry. One theory of the genesis of the soul is called Emanation. That means that in the universe there is really but one source of spiritual being, one Infinite Spirit, and that all other spiritual beings have proceeded from Him as the rays of light are flashed from the sun; and that, in time, all will return to Him again and be absorbed in the being from which they have come. Thus all spirits are supposed to have proceeded from one source--God. As all natural life in the end is but a manifestation of solar energy, so all human beings are supposed to be only bits of God, for a time imprisoned in bodies, and some time to return to the Deity and be absorbed in Him, or in it. Another answer to the question as to the soul's origin is that of Preëxistence. This may be called the Oriental theory, for almost the whole Orient holds this view. The substance of the teaching is suggested by Wordsworth, in his "Ode to Immortality," in the following lines: "Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting; The soul that rises with us, our life's star, Hath had elsewhere its setting, And cometh from afar." Many Occidentals have believed in preëxistence. One of the most intelligent persons whom I have ever known once affirmed that she had had thoughts which she was sure were memories of events which had occurred in a previous life. This answer only pushes the question one stage further back, and leaves us still inquiring, Where do the souls of men originally come from? Another answer to our question affirms that every individual soul is created by God whenever a body is in readiness to receive it--that when a body is born a soul is made to order for it. An old poet wrote as follows: "Then God smites His hands together And strikes out a soul as a spark, Into the organized glory of things, From the deeps of the dark."[1] [Footnote 1: W.R. Alger, "History of the Doctrine of a Future Life," page 10.] The Greek myth of Prometheus is an illustration of this teaching, for "Prometheus is said to have made a human image from the dust of the ground, and then, by fire stolen from heaven, to have animated it with a living soul."[2] [Footnote 2: W.R. Alger, "History of the Doctrine of a Future Life," page 10.] Another answer teaches that all human souls have been derived by heredity from that of Adam. This is a speculation found in medieval theology, and in the Koran. A fanciful theory suggests that all souls have been in existence since the universe was formed; that they are floating in space like rays of light; and that when a body comes into being a soul is drawn into it with its first breath, or first nourishment. This is pure imagination, but intelligent and earnest men have believed it to be the true solution of the problem. One other answer to this question of origin teaches that souls are propagated in the same way and at the same time as bodies; that when a human being appears he is body and spirit; that both are born together, both grow together; and then, some add, both die together, while others believe that the spirit enters at death on a larger and freer stage of existence. I have recalled these speculations concerning the soul in order to show that in all ages this question has been eagerly put and reverently pressed. How could it have been otherwise? And what more convincing evidence of the spiritual nature of man could be desired than that he asks such questions? Would a figure of clay ask whether it were the abode of a higher order of being? Dust asks no questions concerning personality; but intelligence can never be satisfied until it knows the causes of things. What is the teaching of the New Testament concerning this subject? The attitude of Jesus toward all the great problems was the practical one. He attempted to shed no light on causes, but ever endeavored to show how to make the best of things as they are. Whence came the soul? we may ask of Him, but He will tell us that a far more important inquiry is, How may the soul be delivered from imperfection, suffering, and sin, and saved to its noblest uses and loftiest possibilities? The reality of spirit is everywhere assumed in the teaching of Jesus, but nowhere does there appear any effort to throw light on the mystery of its genesis. The distinction between spirit and body is indicated by the Transfiguration, the Resurrection, the narratives of the continued existence of Jesus after His Crucifixion, by many references to the heavenly life, and by the appeals and invitations of the Gospel which are all addressed to intelligence and will. The presence of Jesus in history is an assertion of the spiritual nature of man. Various philosophers have tried to satisfy the desire for light on the question of the origin of personality; but Jesus has told us how, being here, we may break our prison-houses and rise into the full freedom and glory of the children of God. While inquirers have been seeking light, Jesus has brought to them salvation; while they have fruitlessly asked whence they came, Jesus has told them whither they are going. The real problem of human life is not one which has to do with our birth, but with our destiny. We know that we think, choose, love; we know that we are self-conscious; we feel that we have kinship with something higher than the ground on which we walk. The stars attract us because they are above and have motion, but the earth we tread upon has few fascinations. Jesus has responded to the essential questions: For what have we been created? What is our true home? What is the goal of personality? By what path does man move from the bondage of his will, and the limitation of his animalism toward the glorious liberty of the children of God, and toward the fullness of his possible being? We are thus brought face to face with other questions of deep importance What part do weakness, limitation, suffering, sorrow, and even sin, play in the development of souls? Is it necessary that any should fall in order that they may rise? Did John Bunyan truly picture the ascent of the soul? Does its path, of necessity, lead through the Slough of Despond, through Vanity Fair, by Castle Dangerous, and into the realm of Giant Despair? Must one pass through hell and purgatory before he may enjoy the "beatific vision?" Are temptation, sin, sorrow, and even death, angels of God sent forth to minister to the perfection of man? or are they fiends which, in some foul way, have invaded the otherwise fair regions in which we dwell? These are some of the questions to which we are to seek answers in the pages which are to follow. I am persuaded that, as the result of our studies, we shall find that the same beneficent hand which led the "Cosmic process" for unnumbered ages, until the appearance of man, is leading it still, that far more wonderful disclosures are waiting for the children of men as they shall be prepared to receive them, and that the glory of the "Spiritual Universe," as it approaches its consummation, when compared with the finest growths of character yet seen, will transcend them as the ordered creation, with its countless stars, transcends the primeval chaos. In the meantime it is well to remember a few very simple and self-evident facts. One of these is that human souls must vary, at least as much as the bodies in which they dwell. Individuality has to do with spirits. We think, love, and choose in ways that differ quite as much as our bodily appearance. There is no uniformity in the spiritual sphere;--this we know from its manifestations in conduct and history. One man is heroic and another tender, one a reformer and another a recluse, one conservative and another radical. The same Bible has passages as widely contrasted as the twenty-third and the fifty-eighth Psalms, and characters as unlike as Jacob and Jesus. Indeed, may it not be assumed that physical differences are but expressions of still more clearly marked differences in spirits? If this is true it will follow that, as we move toward the goal of our being, while all will be under the same good care, we will move along different, though converging, paths. There are many roads to the "Celestial City" and, possibly, some of them do not lead through the Slough of Despond, or go very near to the realms of Giant Despair. I cannot leave this part of my subject without dwelling for a moment upon two thoughts which to me seem to be full of significance. This wonderfully complex nature of ours,--this power of thinking, choosing, loving, these mysterious inner depths out of which come strange suggestions, and within which, all the time, processes are carried on which may rise into consciousness and startle with their beauty or shame with their ugliness--does no suggestion come from it concerning its origin and destiny? Until they pass mid-life few men realize the terrible significance of the command of the oracle at Delphi, "Know Thyself." Who is not surprised every day at what he finds within himself? It sometimes seems as if two beings dwelt in every body, one in the region of consciousness, and one down below consciousness steadily forging the material which, sooner or later, must be forced up for the conscious man to think about. In proportion as we know ourselves more accurately it becomes increasingly evident that as spirits we are allied to the great Spirit. Few who earnestly think can believe that their power of thought could have grown out of the earth; few when they love can believe that there is no fountain of love, unlimited and free; and few, when they choose one course and refuse another, would be willing to affirm that they are without the power of choice, and have no destiny but the grave. In other words, is not the fact that we are spirits all the proof that we need to have of the Father of Spirits? Is not a single ray of light all the evidence which any one needs of the reality of the sun? Is not the presence of one spiritual being a demonstration of a greater Spirit somewhere? Every soul indicates that, whatever the process by which it has reached its present development, it came originally from God. "In the beginning God" is a phrase which applies to the spiritual as well as to the material universe. The soul is not only a witness concerning its own origin, but it is also a prophecy concerning its destiny. The more thoroughly it is studied the more convincing becomes the evidence that it must some time reach its perfected state. The perfection of intelligence, love, and will require endless growth. The great words of Pascal can hardly be recalled too frequently: "Man is but a reed, the weakest in nature, but he is a thinking reed. It is not necessary that the entire universe arm itself to crush him. A breath of air, a drop of water suffices to kill him. But were the universe to crush him, man would still be more noble than that which kills him, because he knows that he dies; and the universe knows nothing of the advantage it has over him." We can as yet hardly begin to comprehend that for which we were created;--now we see through a glass darkly. A caterpillar on the earth cannot appreciate a butterfly in the air. Jesus was the typical man, as well as the revelation of God. St. Paul has set our thoughts moving toward the "fullness of Christ" as the final goal of humanity. We may not, for many milleniums, know all that is contained in that phrase "the fullness of Christ;" but no one ever attentively listened to the voices which speak in his own soul, no one has even asked himself the meaning of the fact that nothing earthly ever completely satisfies, no one ever saw another in the ripeness of splendid powers growing more intelligent, loving, and spiritually beautiful, without feeling that if death were really the end no being is so much to be pitied as man, and no fate so much to be coveted as a short life in which the mockery may go on. Our souls themselves assure us that they have come from a fountain of spiritual being--that is, from God; and they are also prophecies of a perfection which has never yet been realized on the earth and which will require eternity to complete. But all are not conscious of themselves as spiritual beings and children of eternity, and many come slowly to that consciousness. Our next inquiry, therefore, will concern the Soul's Awakening. THE AWAKENING OF THE SOUL There's a palace in Florence, the world knows well, And a statue watches it from the square, And this story of both do our townsmen tell. Ages ago, a lady there, At the farthest window facing the East Asked, Who rides by with the royal air? * * * * * That selfsame instant, underneath, The Duke rode past in his idle way Empty and fine like a swordless sheath. * * * * * He looked at her, as a lover can; She looked at him as one who awakes: The past was a sleep, and her life began. --_The Statue and the Bust._ Browning II _THE AWAKENING OF THE SOUL_ The process of physical awakening is not always sudden or swift. The passage from sleep to consciousness is sometimes slow and difficult. The soul's realization of itself is often equally long delayed. The effect of eloquence on an audience has often been observed when one by one the dormant souls wake up and begin to look out of their windows, the eyes, at the speaker who is addressing them. In something the same way the souls of men come to a consciousness of their powers and, with clearness, begin to look out on their possibilities and their destiny. The prodigal son in the parable of Jesus lived his earlier years without an appreciation either of his powers or possibilities. When he came to himself this appreciation flashed upon his will and he turned toward his father. Two chapters of this book will have to do with thoughts suggested by this "pearl of parables," viz., the Soul's Awakening and its Re-awakening. Before this young man decided to return to his father he knew himself as an intelligent and as a responsible being; the power of choice was not given him then for the first time. Long ere this he had decided how he would use his wealth. He knew the difference between right and wrong. He was intellectually and morally awake before he saw things in their true relations. "The wine of the senses" intoxicated him; the delights of the flesh seemed the only pleasures to be desired. At first he did not discover the essential excellence of virtue or the sure results of vice. Later, when he saw things in a clearer light, their proper proportions and relations appeared, and he came to himself and made the wise choice. In this chapter we are to study the process of the soul's awakening to a consciousness of its powers, and in a subsequent chapter that re-awakening which is so radical as to merit the name it has usually received, viz., the new birth. There is a time when the soul first realizes itself as a personality with definite responsibilities and relations. This experience comes to some earlier, and to some with greater vividness, than to others. So long as we are blind to our powers, responsibilities, relations, we can hardly be said to be spiritually awake. He only is awake who knows himself as a personality; who has heard the voice of duty; who, to some extent, appreciates the fact that he is dependent on a higher personality or power; and who recognizes that he is surrounded by other personalities who also have their rights, responsibilities, and relations. I think, I choose, I love, I know that I am dependent upon a Being higher than myself. I see that I am related to other personalities with rights as sacred as my own, and, therefore, that I must choose, think, love so as to be acceptable to the One to whom I am responsible, and harmonious with those by whom I am surrounded. The soul's awakening is primarily a recognition and an appreciation of its responsibility. It may think, choose, love, without realizing responsibility, and, therefore, live as if it were the only being in the universe; but the moment it recognizes responsibility it also discerns a higher Person, and other persons, since responsibility to no one, and for nothing, is inconceivable. The soul's awakening, therefore, carries with it the idea of obligation, and that includes the recognition of God, of duty, of right and wrong, in short, of a moral ideal. I do not mean to insist that every one appreciates all that is implied in consciousness of responsibility. There are degrees of alertness, and some men are wide awake and others half asleep. However it may have come to its self-realization, that is a solemn and sublime moment when a human soul understands, ever so dimly, that it is facing in the unseen Being one on whom it knows itself to be dependent; and when it discerns the hitherto invisible lines which bind it to other personalities, in all space and time. At that moment life really begins. Henceforward, by various ways, over undreamed-of obstacles, assisted by invisible hands, hindered by unseen forces, in spite of foes within and enemies without, the course of that soul must ever be toward its true home and goal, in the bosom of God. The difficulties in the way of such a faith for the thoughtful and sensitive are many and serious. Not all blossoms come to fruitage; not all human beings are fit to live; processes of degeneration seem to be at work in nature, in society, and in the individual life. Apparently true and time-honored interpretations of Scripture are quoted against the faith that in some way, and by some kind of discipline, the souls of men will forever approach God; while the belief of the church, so far as it has found expression in the creeds is urged in opposition. But when I see how timidly the creeds of the church have been held by many in all ages, how large a number of the most spiritual and morally earnest have questioned them at this point, and how often they have been rejected in whole, or in part, by those who have dared to trust their hearts; when I remember that the Scripture quoted as opposing is susceptible of another interpretation, when I remember that blossoms are not men, and, most of all when I see the God-like possibilities in every human being, I cannot resist the conviction that every soul of man is from God, and that, sometime and somehow, it may be by the hard path of retribution, possibly through great agonies and by means of austere chastisements and severe discipline as well as by loving entreaty, after suffering shall have accomplished all its ministries it will reach a blissful goal and the "beatific vision." The awakening of the soul is its entrance upon an appreciation of its powers, relations, possibilities, and responsibilities. What awakens the soul? The answer to that question is hidden. The wind bloweth where it listeth. Elemental processes and forces are all silent and viewless. The stillness of the sunrise is like that of the deeps of the sea. No eye ever traced the birth of life, and no sound ever attended the awakening of the soul; and yet this subject is not altogether mysterious. A few rays of light have fallen upon it. I venture suggestions which may help a little toward a rational answer to this question. The soul awakens because it grows, and its growth is sure. Everything that is alive must grow; only death is stationary. It is as natural for us sometime to know ourselves as having relations both to the seen and the unseen as for our bodies to increase in stature. The Confession of Augustine[3] is true of all, "Thou madest us for Thyself, and our heart is restless until it repose in Thee." [Footnote 3: Confessions. Book I, 1.] The soul turns toward God as naturally as children turn toward their parents. I know no other way of explaining the fact that in all ages the majority of the people have had faith in some kind of a deity; and that, widely as they differ as to what is right, all feel that they should follow their convictions of duty. The various ethnic religions, however repulsive, cruel, and vile some of their teachings may be, all indicate a realization of dependence, and all, in some way, bear witness to man's longing for God. Augustine was right--"The heart is restless until it repose in Thee." The healthful soul will always move along the pathway of growth. The next stage in its evolution after its birth is its awakening. Its progress may be hindered, but it cannot be prevented, and it may be hastened. The means by which a soul comes to its self-realization has been a favorite study with poets, dramatists, and novelists. Marguerite, in "Faust," was a simple, sweet, sensuous, traditionally religious girl until she was rudely startled by the knowledge that she was a great sinner; that moment the scales began to fall from her eyes. In her, Goethe has shown how one class of persons, and that a large class, come to self-realization. Victor Hugo, in a passage of almost unparalleled pathos, has pictured in Jean Valjean a kind of big human beast who, when half awake, steals a loaf of bread to save others from starving, but who is startled into fullness of manhood by the sympathy and consideration of the good Bishop whose silver he had also stolen. Hawthorne, in Donatello, has pictured a beautiful creature fully equipped with affections, emotions, passions, but with little consciousness of responsibility, until the fatal moment in which a crime illuminates his soul like a flash of lightning. Such experiences are not to be compared with those of the prodigal son or of Saul. Before the one was reduced to husks, or the light blazed upon the other, they felt the obligation to do right. The prodigal chose pleasure with his eyes wide open and Saul was, mistakenly but truly, trying to do God's will even when he assisted in the stoning of Stephen. Hugo, Goethe, and Hawthorne have accurately delineated single steps in the growth of the soul. They have shown how the process of the soul's awakening may be, and often has been, hastened. It may be hindered by false ideals and a vicious environment, and it may be hastened by lofty ideals and a holy environment. Dr. Bushnell, in his lectures on Christian Nurture, has said that the formative years of every man's life are the first three. Is he correct? I am not sure, but there can be no doubt but what with a good environment the consciousness of moral obligation will be very early developed. The soul cannot long be imprisoned. The consciousness of "ought" and "ought not" will break all barriers as a growing seed will split a rock; and, when that stage of growth appears, the soul knows itself. When the soul is finally awakened, when it realizes that it is indissolubly bound to a larger personality in the unseen sphere; when it finds that it is tied to other souls, and that it cannot escape from its responsibility for itself and them,--what then? Then the struggle of life begins. The awakening is to a realization of conflict with the seen and unseen environment, with forces within and fascinations without. When Paul speaks of the law as the minister of death, he simply means that law introduces an ideal, and ideals always start struggles. Law is something to be obeyed. It is sure to antagonize the animal in man. When our possibilities dawn upon us, in that moment there comes the feeling that they should be our masters. Then the lower nature resists and becomes clamorous. Duty calls in one direction and inclination impels in another. The period of ignorance has passed. Weakness and imperfection remain, but not ignorance. There is a conflict in the soul. The law in the members wars against the law in the mind. We feel that we ought to move upward, but unseen weights press heavily upon us, and to rise seems impossible. Between God calling from above and animalism from below the poor soul has a hard time of it. The morally great in all ages have become strong by overcoming their fleshly natures. They have risen on their dead selves to higher things. The vision of God has reached them even in their prison-houses; and it has broken their chains and they have begun to move toward Him. To the end of the chapter they have had a long fight, and not seldom have been sadly worsted. Goethe and Augustine, Pascal and Coleridge, DeQuincey and Webster--how the list of those who have had to fight bitter battles for spiritual liberty might be extended I and many have not been victorious before the shadows have lengthened and the day closed. Should they be blamed or pitied? Pitied, surely, and for the rest let us leave them to Him who knoweth all things. "Vengeance is mine; I will repay, saith the Lord." Men have nothing to do with judgment; the final word concerning any soul will be spoken only by Him whose vision is perfect. "Steep and craggy is the pathway of the gods," and steep and craggy is the path by which men rise to spiritual heights. He who is sensitive to life can hardly survey this universal human struggle with undimmed eye or with unquestioning faith. The young are driven here and there by heartless and, sometimes, almost furious passions; some are weak and fall because they are blind, and others because they love and trust; and many who desire to do good mistake and choose evil. The strong often try to run away from themselves but can find no solitude in which to hide; and all the time right and truth shine in the darkness like stars. What shall we say of these confusing conditions? To ignore them is foolish; to insist that the struggle is but a delusion is nonsense. The only sane course is to face facts and adjust our theories to them. The battle between duty and inclination, between the ideal and the actual, will continue as long as life in the body endures. It is not an unmixed evil. In the end right is never worsted. The way that leads to holiness is long and sometimes bloody; but it always develops strength and courage. The fight, for each individual, will be ended only by the full and perfect choice of truth and virtue, which are always the will of God. The victory will be secure long before it is fully won. Enough for us to know that conformity to the will of God at last will be the end of strife. It is not well to be overmuch troubled when we see those whom we love fighting a hard battle against inherited tendencies and an evil environment, for the fight, however fierce, is a good sign. Those alone are to be pitied who are drifting, and not resisting. Progress is ever by a steep and spiral pathway. Sometimes the face of the ascending soul is toward the sun and sometimes it is toward the darkness. No man can deliver his friend from the forces which oppose him. Each must conquer for himself and none can evade the conflict. From the hour when the soul awakens to a consciousness of its powers and possibilities, its movement, in spite of all hindrances and difficulties, must be to the heights. Those only need cause anxiety who are not yet awake; or who, having been awake, have turned backward instead of pressing onward. We are now face to face with a momentous inquiry. When the soul is awake, when it realizes something of its descent from God and of its relation to Him and to other souls, what should be its environment? Intelligent and otherwise sane people at this point have been strangely insane and blind. We are always affected by influence more than by teaching. Education by atmosphere is quite as effective as education by study. Involuntarily all become like their ideals. Personalities absorb characteristics from surroundings as flowers absorb colors from the light. The awakened soul, therefore, from the first should have a spiritual environment. Parents and friends should be helps, not hindrances, to its progress. I once read a letter from one who had changed an old for a new home. The letter was full of aspiration for the best things, of thoughts about God and the spiritual verities. It was not difficult to see that the new home in its reverence for truth, its loyalty to right, its reaching for reality, was providing the same good influence as the old one. If, in the environment, truth and duty are honored, virtue reverenced, God worshipped sincerely and devoutly, manhood held to be as sacred as deity, the unseen and spiritual never spoken of unadvisedly or lightly, courage always found hand in hand with character, the soul will never long fight a losing battle. The home should be organized to promote, as swiftly as possible, the awakening of the souls of the children; and, from the moment of this awakening, everything should be planned to help their growth. The books on the tables should tell the life-stories of those who have bravely fought and never faltered. Biographies of men like Wilberforce and Howard who have lived to help their fellow-men; and of women like Florence Nightingale and Lady Stanley, who have regarded their social gifts and ample wealth as calls to service; histories of charities, intellectual development and noble achievement, pictures like Sir Galahad and The Light of the World are potent forces in the formation of character. The ideal side of life should ever be presented in its most attractive form to the awakened soul in its near environment. Because the ideal culminates in the religious, and the feeling of moral obligation rests at last upon the conviction that God is, and that He is not far from any one, Jesus, in all the beauty and pathos of His earthly career, in all the tragic grandeur of His death and glory of His Resurrection, in all the nearness and helpfulness of His continuing ministry, should be the subject of frequent, earnest, honest, sane, and sympathetic conversation. The awakened soul needs first of all an environment which will be favorable to its growth. Its development then will usually be steadily and swiftly toward God and conformity to His will. There ought to be no need of any re-awakening. If the soul opens its eyes among those who reverence truth and righteousness, who guard virtue and revere love, to whom God is the nearest and most blessed of realities, and Jesus is Master, Saviour, and daily Friend, its growth toward the spiritual goal will be as natural and beautiful as it will also be swift and sure. THE FIRST STEPS No mortal object did these eyes behold When first they met the placid light of thine, And my soul felt her destiny divine, And hope of endless peace in me grew bold: Heaven-born, the soul a heav'nward course must hold; Beyond the visible world she soars to seek (For what delights the sense is false and weak) Ideal form, the universal mould. The wise man, I affirm, can find no rest In that which perishes: nor will he lend His heart to aught which doth on time depend. 'Tis sense, unbridled will, and not true love, Which kills the soul: Love betters what is best, Even here below, but more in heaven above. --_Sonnet from Michael Angelo._ Wordsworth III _THE FIRST STEPS_ The first movements of the awakened soul are difficult to trace. Observation, painstaking and long-continued, alone can furnish the desired information. In the attempt to recall our own experiences there is always a possibility of inaccuracy. Bias counts for more in self-examination than in an examination of others. There is also danger of confusing religious preconceptions with what actually transpires. What we have been led to imagine should be experienced we are very likely to insist has taken place. The truth concerning the Ascent of the Soul will be found in the conclusions of many observers in widely different conditions. The soul awakens to a consciousness of its responsibilities and to a knowledge that it is in a moral order from which escape is forever impossible. This is our point of departure in this chapter. The new-born child has to become adjusted to its physical environment, to learn to use its powers, to breathe, to eat, to allow the various senses to do their work. In like manner the newly awakened soul has to become adjusted to the moral order. The moral order is the rule of right in the sphere of thought, emotion, and choice. It is the government of the soul as the physical order is the government of the body. It may be best explained by analogy. There is a physical order ruled by physical laws. If those laws are obeyed, strength, health, sanity result; but if they are disobeyed, the consequences, which are inevitable and self-perpetuating, are weakness, disease, insanity. If one violates gravitation he is dashed in pieces; if he trifles with microbes their infinitesimal grasp will be like a shackle of steel. No one can get outside the physical universe and the sweep of its laws. There is also a right and a wrong way to use thought, emotion, will. The mind which has hospitality only for holy thoughts will become clearer, and its vision more distinct; but the mind which harbors impure thoughts, gradually, but surely, confuses evil with good, obscures its vision, and becomes a fountain of moral miasm. If we choose to recall and to retain feelings that are animal, and are the relics of animalism, the natural tendency toward bestiality will gather momentum; but if emotion is turned toward higher objects, and we are thrilled from above rather than lulled from below, the sensibilities become sources of enduring joy. The moral order is like the physical order in its universality and in the remorselessness of the consequences which follow choices. How does the soul become adjusted to the moral order? This question is difficult to answer. At the first there is sight enough to see that one course is right and another wrong, but the vision is indistinct. Gradually the ability to make accurate discriminations increases, and, with time and other growth, the faculty of vision is enlarged and clarified. The first step in the Ascent of the Soul is the development of ability to discriminate between right and wrong. The powers of the soul are enlarged and vivified with the bodily growth, but whether there is any necessary connection between the growth of the one and that of the other, we know not. This alone is sure--clearer vision, with ever-increasing distinctness, reveals the certainty that moral laws are universal and unchangeable. The process of adjustment to the moral order is partly voluntary and partly involuntary. It is hastened by the hidden forces of vitality, and it may be hindered by its own choices. As a human being who refuses to eat will starve, so a soul which turns away from truth will starve. The law in one case is as inexorable as in the other. This consciousness of the moral order is sometimes dim even in mature years because neglect always deadens appreciation. Paul said that the law is a schoolmaster leading to Christ. By that he intended to teach that we must realize that we are under moral law before we can know that its violation will result in a state of ruin needing salvation. First that which is natural, then that which is spiritual. The phrase "natural law in the spiritual world" means that the consequences following right and wrong are as inevitable and essential in the realm of spirit as in that of matter. The progress of the soul is dependent on the realization that there is a moral quality in thoughts, emotions, choices; that the consequences following them grow out of them as flowers from seed, and that they determine not only the character but the happiness and welfare of the one exercising them. The next step in the upward movement of the soul is the realization of its freedom. It is possible for one to know that he is under law, without at the same time appreciating that he is free to choose whether he will obey. I may see a storm sweeping toward me and know that behind it is resistless force, and know, also, that to step outside the track of that storm is impossible; and it is conceivable that a soul may know itself as able to think, feel, act, and, at the same time, be under the dominion of forces before which it is powerless. The practical question, therefore, for all in this human world is not, are there spiritual laws? but, may we choose for ourselves whether we will obey or disobey them? Until the soul knows itself to be free to choose, there will be no deep feeling of obligation, without which there can be no motive impelling toward the heights. Here also we walk in the dark. The genesis of the consciousness of freedom has never been observed. DuBois-Reymond has called it one of "the seven riddles of science." We are no nearer the solution of the problem than were our fathers a thousand years ago. But one thing at least we do know: He who believes himself to be a puppet in the hands of unseen forces will never fight them. If freedom is a fiction the universe is not only unmoral, but immoral. The final argument for freedom is consciousness. I know I could have chosen differently from what I did. But how do I know? The process cannot be pushed farther back. Consciousness is ultimate and authoritative. But what then shall be said of heredity? A child when first born is little but a bundle of sensibilities. Its growth seems to be but the unfolding of inherited tendencies. Every man is what his ancestors have made him plus what he has absorbed from his environment. How can we say then that any are free? That man who is surly, uncomfortable, ugly, as hard to endure as a March wind, is but the extension of his father. When one knows the elder it is difficult to do otherwise than pity the younger. He is but living the tendencies which were born in him and which are an inseparable part of his nature. He cannot be genial and urbane. Are not some born moral cripples as others are born with physical deformities? Are not some spiritually deaf, dumb, and blind from birth? It cannot be doubted. We are all more or less what our fathers were, but our surroundings do much to modify us. Many men seem to be driven on wings of passion, as leaves by tornadoes; and yet we know that we are free, and that all life and conduct, individual and social, must be ordered on that hypothesis. Teach men that they are not free, and anarchy and chaos will quickly follow. No freedom? Then there is no obligation. No one feels that he ought to do what he cannot do, and no one will try to do what he does not feel that he ought to do. If men are but machines, moving only as the power is turned on, there is no moral quality in any action. If we live in a moral world, whether we can understand it or not, we must be free to choose for ourselves. The possibility of the soul's expansion depends on its freedom. There is no right and no wrong, no truth and no error, if it is a slave to the inheritance with which it was born. What gives to the invitations of Jesus a quality so serious and so solemn is the fact that they may be rejected. The power of choice is the most sublime endowment which man possesses. When we have learned to know ourselves as free a long step forward has been taken. The soul grows by a right use of the power of choice. How may it be adjusted to this knowledge? It will undoubtedly grow to it, but the process will be slow. It may, however, be hastened by a use of the experience of others. No man should be allowed to begin the battle of life as ignorant as his father was. Each new soul should have the benefit of the experience of all who have lived before. Children should be taught by example and conversation, in the home and the school, that the beginning of wisdom is a right use of the experience of others. However this lesson may be learned, and however swift may be the process of growth, the next step in the soul's progress, after its realization that it is in a moral order, must be its adjustment to the fact that it is a free agent and sovereign over its own choices. No man is ever forced into any course of conduct. Character is the resultant of many choices rather than of necessity. The moral law may be obeyed or it may be violated. Its seat is, indeed, in the bosom of God. It is the only guarantee of individual progress and social harmony. Its sway is without bound and without end. To know how to live in a moral world, and how best to use the gifts of liberty, is a subject for an eternity of study. That this consciousness of freedom comes slowly is an immense blessing; otherwise the soul would be dazed as, for the first time, it looked around on the solemnities and splendors of the spiritual universe; and be overwhelmed as it realized, at the very beginning of its career, that it was endowed with a sovereignty as mysterious and potent as that of God. The next step in the upward movement of the soul is appreciation of a moral ideal. That is a solemn and sublime moment when the newly awakened soul realizes that it dwells in a moral order and is free to make its own choices. But another moment is equally thrilling--that in which, in faint and scarcely audible accents, it catches the far call of the goal toward which, henceforward and forever, it must move. It now knows not only that there is a difference between right and wrong, but that there are mysterious affinities between itself and truth and right. Later the sound of that far-away voice will become more distinct. But in its infancy the soul is more or less confused. It hears many sounds and does not always know how to distinguish between siren voices and those which prophesy its destiny. It also has to learn to distinguish truth and right. The task of making moral discriminations is not easy at any time. Amid a babel of noises to detect the one clear call which alone can satisfy is almost impossible. The mistakes, therefore, are many, but even by mistakes the soul learns to distinguish the true from the false. But how is it to be taught to appreciate that one voice only in all that confusion of strange sounds should be heeded, and all the rest disregarded? The same answer as before must be given. This knowledge, also, will come in large part with the years. It seems to be the cosmic purpose to provide fresh light with every new step of progress. No one is ever left in total darkness. As the soul advances it learns to distinguish between the voices which speak to it. The necessity of growth is the angel of the Lord whose ministries and prophecies are the hope and glory of the race. Growth may be hindered, but it can never be banished from the universe. It moved in chaos, and never faltered in its march, until under its beneficent leading all things were seen to be good. It led the cosmic movement until man appeared; and now it has taken man in hand, with all the vestiges of animalism clinging to him, and it will never leave him as he rises toward the perfection and glory of God. The law of growth answers most if not all of our questions. The soul of man must grow. With its growth will come vision, strength, and progress toward its goal. But growth is not all. The voices to which we choose to give heed will sound most distinctly in our ears. Here we face a fact which is often in evidence. The earth and animalism will never cease to make appeal to our senses, while at the same time voices from above will call from their heights to our spirits. To distinguish between desire and duty, between truth and tradition, between the spiritual and the animal, is a step which has to be taken, and which is taken whether we appreciate how or not. By the pain which follows wrong choices, or by the intuitions of the spirit, the soul comes to realize that its obligation is always in one direction; that its choice ought to be in favor of the morally excellent. But how shall it discern the morally excellent? The process of learning will be a long one, and never fully completed on the earth. This is a realm that poets and dramatists, who are usually the profoundest and most accurate students of life, have not often tried to enter. Such questions can be answered only after careful and long-continued inductive study. Moralists are usually content to stop short of this inquiry. How the soul comes to learn that it is obligated to truth and right we may not fully know; but that it does learn, and that no step in all its development is more important, there is no doubt. In His dealing with this question Jesus preserves the same attitude as toward all subjects of speculation. I came not to explain how life adjusts itself to its environment, He seems to say, but to give life a richness and a beauty which it never had before; I came not to answer questions, but to save to the best uses that which already exists. Nevertheless, the question as to how the soul is taught to distinguish the morally excellent is of serious importance. If we do not recognize the sanctity of truth and right we may not give them hospitality; and we may not appreciate their sanctity if we are ignorant of what gives them their authority. How, then, does it learn what truth and right are? Are there any clearly defined paths by which this knowledge may be reached? Is not truth a matter of education? And is there any absolute right? A Hindoo Swami, of the school of the Vedanta, lecturing in this country, solemnly assured an intelligent audience that there is no sin; that what is called sin is only the result of education; that what is vice in one place may be virtue in another; and that in the sphere of morals all is relative and nothing absolute. Then there is no wrong, for wrong and sin are closely related; and no right because if right is not a dream it implies the possibility of an opposite. There is little permanent danger from such shallow theories. The peril from confusion is greater than from denial. But even confusion at this point is not long necessary because in every soul there is a voice which men call conscience, which never fails to impel toward the true and the good. Conscience may be likened to a compass whose needle always points toward the north. When it is uninfluenced by distracting causes conscience always shows the way toward truth and right. The Spartans believed that lying was a virtue if it was sufficiently obscure; and a Hindoo woman who throws her child to the god of the Ganges does so because she is deeply religious. Are not such persons conscientious? Yet they perform acts which are in themselves wrong? Of what value, then, is conscience? That they are both conscientious and religious I have no doubt. It is their misfortune to be ignorant. The light appears to be colored by the medium through which it passes, and yet it is not colored; and conscience seems to approve what is wrong, and yet it never does. It always impels toward the right, but men often make serious mistakes because of their ignorance. The needle in the moral compass is deflected by selfishness or false teaching. The Hindoo mother might hear and, if she dared to listen to it, would hear a deeper voice than the one calling her to sacrifice her child--even one telling her to spare her child. She has not yet learned that it is always safe to trust the moral sense. Superstitions are not conscience; they are ignorance obscuring and deadening conscience. Every man is born with a guide within to point him to paths of virtue and truth, and one of the most important lessons which the growing soul has to learn is that when it is true to itself it may always trust that guide. The call of his destiny finds every man, and, when he hears it, he asks: How may I reach that goal? It is far away and the path is confused. Then a voice within makes answer, and, if he heeds that, he will make no mistake. That voice, I believe, is the result of no evolutionary process, but is the holy God immanent in every soul, making His will known. Evolution gradually gives to conscience a larger place, but there is no evidence that it is produced by any physical process. It may be hindered by physical limitations, but it can be destroyed by none. Why are we so slow in learning that conscience, being divine, is authoritative and may be trusted? I know no answer except this: We so often confuse ignorance with conscience that at last we conclude that the latter is not trustworthy. But there we mistake. It is trustworthy. It never fails those who heed its message. That realization may now and then come early, but it seldom comes all at once. Nevertheless it is a step to be taken before the progress of the soul can be either swift or sure. The moment that the soul realizes that God is not far away, but within; that all the divine voices did not speak in the past, but that many are speaking now; that whosoever will listen may hear within his own being a message as clear and sacred as any that ever came to prophet or teacher in other times, it will begin to realize the luxury of its liberty, and something of the grandeur of its destiny. Truth and right are not fictions of the imagination, they are realities opening before the growing soul like continents before explorers. They always invite entrance and possession. They have horizons full of splendor and beauty and music. They alone can satisfy. But the soul has not yet fully escaped from the mists and fogs and glooms of the earth. It is surrounded by those who still wallow in animalism, and the sounds of the lower world are yet echoing in its ears. But at last its face is toward the light; the far call of its destiny has been heard; it knows itself to be in a moral order; it is assured that, however closely the body may be imprisoned, no bolts and no bars can shut in a spirit; that before it is a fair and favored land, far off but ever open; and, best of all, that within its own being, impervious to all influences from without, is a guide which may be implicitly trusted and which will never betray. Why not follow its suggestions at once and press on toward that fair land of truth and beauty which so earnestly invites? Ah! why not? Here we are face to face with other facts. There are hindrances, many and serious, in the pathway of the soul, and they must be met and forced before that land can be entered. This is the time for us to consider them. HINDRANCES And many, many are the souls Life's movement fascinates, controls; It draws them on, they cannot save Their feet from its alluring wave; They cannot leave it, they must go With its unconquerable flow; * * * * * They faint, they stagger to and fro, And wandering from the stream they go; In pain, in terror, in distress, They see all round a wilderness. --_Epilogue to Lessing's "Laocoon"._ Matthew Arnold IV _HINDRANCES_ When the soul has heard the far call of its destiny and realizes that it may respond to that call, and that it has, in conscience, a guide which will not fail even in the deepest darkness, it turns in the direction from which the appeal comes and begins to move toward its goal. Almost simultaneously it realizes that it has to meet and to overcome numerous and serious obstacles. To the hindrances in the way of the spirit our thought is to be turned in this chapter. The moral failure of many men and women of superb intellectual and physical equipment is one of the sad and serious marvels of human history. What a pathetic and significant roll might be made of those who have been great intellectually and pitiful failures morally! It has often been affirmed that Hannibal might have conquered Rome, and been the master of the world except for the fatal winter at Capua. Antony, possibly, would have been victor at Actium if it had not been for something in himself that made him susceptible to the fascination of the fair but treacherous Egyptian queen. Achilles was a symbolical as well as an historical character. There was one place--with him in the heel--where he was vulnerable, and through that he fell. Socrates was like a tornado when inflamed by anger. Napoleon laid Europe waste and desolated more distant lands, but he was an enormous egotist and morally a blot on civilization. The life-history of many of the poets is inexpressibly sad. Chatterton, Shelley, Byron, Poe--their very names call up facts which those who admire their genius would gladly conceal. Many artists are in the same category. It explains nothing to ascribe their moral pollution to their finer sensibilities, for finer sensibilities ought to be attended by untarnished characters. It is, perhaps, best not even to mention their names lest, thereby, we dull the appreciation of noble masterpieces which represent the better moods of the men. One of imperial genius was a slave to wine, another to lust, another was too envious to detect any merit in the work of others of his craft. There are statesmen of whose achievements we speak, but never of the men themselves; and there have been ministers of the Gospel, unhappily not a few, who have suddenly disappeared and been heard of no more. Into a kindly oblivion they have gone, and that is all that any one needs to know. What do such facts signify? That many, or most, of these men have been essentially and totally bad? Or that they are moral failures? They signify only that they have not yet risen above the hindrances which they have found in their pathways. The world knows of the temporary obscuration of a fair fame; it does not see the grief, the tears, the gradual gathering of the energies for a new assault upon the obstacles in the road; and it does not see how tenderly, but faithfully, Providence, through nature, is dealing with them. Some time they will be brought to themselves--The Eternal Goodness is the pledge of that. It is not with this unseen and beneficent ministry of restoration, however, that I am now dealing, but with the awful wrecks and failures which are so common in human history, and concerning which most men know something in their own experiences. How shall they be explained?--since to evade them is impossible. In other words when a man is awake, when he feels that he is in a moral order, is free, and hears the call of his destiny, why is his progress so slow and difficult? No one has ever delineated this period in the soul's growth with greater vividness than Bunyan. The Valley of Humiliation, the Slough of Despond, Giant Despair, Doubting Castle are all pictures of human life taken with photographic accuracy. What are some of these hindrances? The soul is free, but its abode is in a limited body. The movement of the soul is swift and unconstrained as thought. It is not limited by time. It may project itself a thousand years into the future or travel a thousand years into the past; but it dwells in the body and is more or less restrained by it. Bodily limitation narrows experience and compels ignorance. It makes large acquaintance impossible. The flowers beneath the ice on the Alps are small; the flowers of the tropics have the proportions of trees. Thus environment modifies growth. The body cannot put fetters on the will, but it may hold in captivity the powers which acquire knowledge, withhold from the emotions persons worthy of affection, and make the range of objects of choice poor and pitiful. The soul has often been compared to a bird in a cage,--fitted for broad horizons but confined within narrow spaces. This hindrance is a very real one. The man who grows swiftly must be in the open world with beings to love and to serve ever within his reach. Hence the life beyond death is often called the unhindered life because of its freedom from the body. The old story of "Rasselas" is symbolical. In the Happy Valley a man might be as good, but he could not be as great and wise, as in the larger world. The soul will meet fewer temptations there, but those it does encounter will be more insistent and harder to escape. He who would respond to a call to service must needs have about him those whom he may serve. Large views are for those who are able to rise to the heights. He who lives in a cave may be true to his little light, and surely is responsible for no more, but he will see far less than the one whose home is on the mountaintop. Thus even bodily limitations, to which are attached no moral qualities, are hindrances to the growth of the being, whose destiny is not only purification but expansion:--its movement is not only toward goodness but also toward greatness; not only toward virtue but also toward power. The animal entail is one of the greatest mysteries of our mortal life. The soul in its moments of illumination feels that it is related to some person like itself, but far higher, and aspires to it. Sir Joshua Reynolds' figure of "Faith" in the famous window in the chapel of New College, Oxford, suggests the attitude of the newly awakened soul. In freshness and beauty it is turning toward the light. But in human experience something occurs which Sir Joshua has not tried to depict. A clammy hand reaches up from the deeps out of which rise suffocating clouds, and that pure spirit finds itself enveloped in darkness and fastened to the earth. The humiliation is complete. What has occurred? Only what has happened again and again; and what will continue to happen for no one knows how long. The animal has gotten the better of the spirit. The soul has sinned--for sin is little, if anything, but a spirit allowing itself to return to the fascinations of the animal conditions out of which it has been evolved, and from which it ought to have escaped forever. The animal entail is the chief hindrance to the aspiring spirit. The animal lives by his senses. He is content when they are satisfied. It can hardly be said that animals are ever happy. Happiness is a state higher than contentment. Paul said he had learned in whatsoever state he was to be content, but even he never said that in all states he had learned to be happy. Animals are contented when their senses are gratified and they are savage when their senses are clamorous. Lions and bears are dangerous when they are hungry, and cruel when other desires are obstructed. Whatever the theory of evolution, from the beginning of its upward movement, the nearest, most potent, and most dangerous hindrance to the soul is this entail of animalism, which it can never escape but which it must some time conquer. The spirit and the body seem to be in endless antagonism, and yet the body itself will become the fair servant of the soul when once the question of its supremacy has been determined. The tendency to revert to animalism has been vividly depicted by the poets, and the clamorous and insistent nature of the passions portrayed by the artists. The liquor in the enchanted cup of Comus may be called "the wine of the senses." Its effect is thus described by Milton. Comus offers ... "To every weary traveler His orient liquor in a crystal glass, To quench the drought of Phoebus; which, as they taste (For most do taste through fond, intemperate thirst) Soon as the potion works, their human countenance, The express resemblance of the gods, is changed Into some brutish form of wolf or bear, Or ounce or tiger, hog or bearded goat." A famous passage from Ovid's "Metamorphoses"[4] represents Actæon as changed into a stag; but, if I read the fable aright, the glimpse of Diana in her bath, while not an intelligent choice, was more than a mere accident--it was the uprising of innate sensuality; for even the Greek gods were supposed to have had senses. [Footnote 4: Addison's translation, Book III, pages 188-198.] "Actæon was the first of all his race, Who grieved his grandsire in his borrowed face; Condemned by stern Diana to bemoan The branching horns and visage not his own; To shun his once-loved dogs, to bound away And from their huntsman to become their prey; And yet consider why the change was wrought; You'll find it his misfortune, not his fault; Or, if a fault it was the fault of chance; For how can guilt proceed from ignorance?" The story of Circe is the common story of those who have yielded to the flesh. The companions of Ulysses visited the palace of Circe, were allured by her charms, and the result is read in these words: "Before the spacious front, a herd we find Of beasts, the fiercest of the savage kind. Our trembling steps with blandishments they meet And fawn, unlike their species, at our feet." The strong words of Milton are none too strong: "Their human countenance The express resemblance of the gods, is changed Into some brutish form." A common subject with artists has been the temptations of the saints. They have fled from luxury, and what they supposed to be moral peril, but have found no solitude to which they could go and leave their bodies behind. In the silences faces have appeared to them full of alluring entreaty, and more than one anchorite has found to his sorrow that he carried within himself the cause of his danger. A singularly vivid painting represents one of the saints in the desert, and clinging to him, with their arms around his neck, are two figures of exquisite physical beauty. Their charms are so near and perilous that the pale and haggard man in desperation has shut his eyes, and in this extremity, with his one free hand, is frantically clinging to a cross. The artist has accurately depicted the condition in which the soul finds itself as it begins its growth;--its chief enemies are those of its own household. Happy indeed is it for all that none see at the first the obstacles in their way. Faint and far shines the splendor of the goal; the hindrances are reached one by one, and each one, for the moment, seems to be the last. But close and persistent as is the animal entail, it is not unconquerable. Many a Sir Galahad, and many a woman fair and holy as his pure sister, have lived on this earth of ours. They were not always so; and their beauty and holiness are but the outshining of spiritual victory. Is this environment of evil necessary to the development of the soul? We may not know; but we do know that it can be conquered, and some time and somehow will be conquered; and that then men, like ourselves, grown from the same stock, evolved from the lower levels, will constitute "the crowning race." "No longer half akin to brute, For all we thought and loved and did, And hoped, and suffered, is but seed Of what in them is flower and fruit." These are a few samples of the hindrances which the soul must face in its progress through "the thicket of this world." But these are not all. Hardly less serious is the ignorance which clothes it like a garment. It comes it knows not whence; it journeys it knows not whither, and apparently is attended by no one wiser than itself. Hugo's awful picture of a man in the ocean with the vast and silent heavens above, the desolate waves around, the birds like dwellers from another world circling in the evening light, and the poor fellow trying to swim, he knows not where, is not so wide of the mark as some thoughtless readers might suppose. The soul is ignorant and timid, in the vast and void night, with its environment of ignorance and of other souls also blindly struggling. At the same time there is the consciousness of a duty to do something, of a voice calling it somewhere which ought to be heeded, and of having bitterly failed. The solitariness of the soul is also one of the most mysterious and solemn of its characteristics. The prophecy which is applied to Jesus might equally be applied to every human being: He trod the wine-press alone. In all its deepest experiences the soul is solitary. Craving companionship, in the very times when it seeks it most it finds it denied. Every crucial choice must at last be individual. When sorrows are multiplied there are in them deeps into which no friendly eye can look. When the hour of death comes, even though friends crowd the rooms, not one of them can accompany the soul on its journey. It seems as if this solitariness must hinder its growth. Perhaps were our eyes clearer we should see that what seems to retard in reality hastens progress. But to our human sight it seems as if every soul needed companionship and coöperation in all its deep experiences; and that the ancients were not altogether wrong in their belief in the presence and protection of Guardian Angels. But something more vital and assuring than that faith is desired. It is rather the inseparable fellowship of those who are facing the same mysteries and fighting the same battles as ourselves; but even that not infrequently is denied. Is this all? There is another possibility which observation has never detected and which science is powerless to disprove. Can we be sure that no malign spiritual influences hinder and bewilder? We cannot be sure. The common belief of nearly all peoples ought not to be rudely brushed aside. No one willingly believes in lies nor clings to them when he knows that they are lies. Superstitions always have some element of truth in them, and the truth, not the error, wins adherents. The most that we can say, at this point, is that we do not know. It is possible that the common beliefs of many widely separated people have no basis in fact, that they are born of dreams and delusions; and, on the other hand, it is equally possible that the spaces which we inhabit, but which we cannot fully explore, have other inhabitants than our vision discerns, and that those beings may help and may hinder us in our progress. It is not wise to dogmatize where we are ignorant. While the scales balance we must wait. Are the hindrances in the path of the soul without any ministry? That cannot be; for then they are exceptions to the universal law, that nothing which exists is without a purpose of benefit. All the analogies of nature indicate that human limitations are intended to serve some good end, since, so far as observation has yet extended, it has found nothing which is caused by chance. Emerson says, "As the Sandwich Islander believes that the strength and valor of the enemy he kills passes into himself, so we gain the strength of the temptations we resist;"[5] and St. Bernard says, "Nothing can work me damage except myself; the harm that I sustain I carry about with me, and never am a real sufferer but by my own fault."[6] [Footnote 5: Essay on Compensation.] [Footnote 6: Quoted by Emerson in Essay on Compensation.] And St. John says, "To him that overcometh will I give to eat of the tree of life."[7] [Footnote 7: Revelation 2:7.] The mission of the austere is the development of strength. Concerning this suggestion we shall inquire later. The souls which have reached the serene summits have ever been those which have most resolutely faced the obstacles in their pathways. Even apparent hindrances always exercise a beneficent ministry. As Jesus was made perfect by the things which He suffered, so, in the Cosmic plan, all souls must come to strength and perfection by the difficulties which they overcome and the enemies which they subdue. What should be the attitude of the soul in view of the hindrances by which it is environed? It should be taught to fight them at every point. Nowhere is the kindness of nature more evident than in the patience and persistence with which this instruction is conveyed. Nature withholds her favors until they are earned. New light comes only to those who have used-the light they had. Strength is developed by resistance. Growth is for those who place themselves where growth is possible. Nature gives the soul nothing, but she always waits to coöperate with it. This lesson was impressed long ago. It ought never to require new emphasis. Let the younger study the experiences of their elders. They will be saved many failures and much pain. The soul can never be coerced, but it may be taught. Milton has enforced this great lesson in Comus: "Against the threats Of malice or of sorcery, of that power Which erring men call Chance, this I hold firm-- Virtue may be assailed, but never hurt, Surprised by unjust force, but not enthralled; Yet, even that which mischief meant most harm, Shall in the happy trial prove most glory; But evil on itself shall back recoil, And mix no more with goodness, when at last Gathered like a scum, and settled to itself, It shall be in eternal restless change Self-fed, and self-consumed; if this fail The pillar'd firmament is rottenness And earth's base built on stubble." No one should believe, after all the growth of the ages, that the soul was made to be imprisoned in a fleshly prison. It was intended that it should burst its barriers and press toward the light. There is an eternal enmity between the serpent and the soul, and the serpent's head must be bruised, but the soul resisting all the forces and fascinations of the flesh, rising on that which has been cast down to higher things, slowly but surely, painfully but with ever added strength moves toward the ideal humanity which has never been better defined than as "the fullness of Christ." Meanwhile it is well to reinforce our faith by remembering that it is written in the nature of things that truth and goodness must prevail. This is a moral universe. Error never can be victorious. It may be exalted for a time, but that will be only in order that it may be sunk to deeper depths. Evil and error are doomed and always have been. Evil is moral disease, and disease always tends toward death, while life always and of necessity presses toward larger, more beautiful, and more beneficent being. Here let us rest. Many things are dark and impossible of explanation, but we have already been taught a few lessons of superlative importance. We have learned that the soul is made for the light; that it can be satisfied only with love and truth; that every hindrance may be overcome; that the animal was made to be the servant of the spirit; that the body makes a good servant but a poor master; that strength comes to those who refuse to submit to the clamors of appetite: thus we have been led to see something of the way along which the soul has moved from animalism toward freedom and victory. And we have learned one thing more, viz., that the Over-soul is not a dream, but a reality; that the individual may be in correspondence with the Over-soul and from it be continually reinforced. Or, to put our faith in sweeter and simpler form, we have learned by experience which cannot be gainsaid that God is a personal spirit, interested in all that concerns His children, and anxious for their growth; and that He can no more allow His love for them to be defeated than He could allow the suns and planets to break from their orbits. How much more is a man than a sun! Therefore, since God is in His heaven, all must be right with the world and with man, and some time all the hindrances will be changed into helps, all obstacles be converted into strength, and "all hells into benefit." THE AUSTERE We cannot kindle when we will The fire which in the heart resides; The Spirit bloweth and is still, In mystery our soul abides. But tasks in hours of insight will'd Can be through hours of gloom fulfill'd. With aching hands and bleeding feet We dig and heap, lay stone on stone; We bear the burden and the heat Of the long day, and wish 'twere done. Not till the hours of light return, All we have built do we discern. --_Morality._ Matthew Arnold. V _THE AUSTERE_ The soul has discovered that it is in a moral order, that it is a free agent, and that it has mysterious affinities with truth and right. It has taken a few steps, and with them has learned that its upward movement will not be easy. It next discovers that it has no isolated existence, but that it is surrounded by countless other similar beings all indissolubly bound together and having mutual relations. With the dawn of intelligence comes the realization of relations. This realization is dim at the first, but it is very real. Soon the soul learns that the relations between it and other souls are so intimate that the interest of one is the interest of all. Appreciation of relations is a long advance in the movement upward, and it necessitates other knowledge. The realization of relations leads, necessarily and swiftly, to the consciousness of responsibility. The process of this growth cannot be described in detail, but the path is clearly marked and its milestones may be numbered. Each soul is always in a society of souls. Each one, therefore, affects others, and is affected by them. It is free and, therefore, responsible for the influence which it exerts. Moreover, it is bound to other souls by love, and love always carries with it the possibility of sorrow; for sorrow is usually only love thwarted. It is not far from the truth to say that when there is no love there is no sorrow, and that the possibilities of sorrow are always increased in proportion to the perfection of being. In time the soul finds itself not only one among myriads of souls, but it realizes that its relations to some are more intimate than to others. It needs not to seek the causes of this fact, since it cannot escape from the reality. Thus it finds itself in families, in tribes, in nations, in social groups where the bonds are strong and enduring. Some souls, more capacious than others, have a richer and more varied experience, and thus inevitably become teachers. The process goes on, and, with both teachers and scholars, the horizon expands and the strength increases with each new day. The soul has found that it is not a solitary being dazed and saddened by the consciousness of its powers, but that it is in a society in which all are similarly endowed, and that all are pressing toward the same goal. It has discovered that its growth is hastened, or hindered, by its environment; and that the spiritual environment is ever the nearest and most potent. Each new step in this pilgrim's progress reveals something more wonderful than the opening of a continent. It is an entrance into a larger and more complex world. A strange fact now emerges. Every enlargement of being, either of faculty or capacity, is attended by pain either physical or mental. "Whom the Lord loveth He chasteneth," seems to be a universal law rather than an isolated text. All life is strenuous because it is always attended by growth. The soul moves not only onward but upward, and climbing is always a difficult process. Before a second step is taken the soul begins to experience suffering and sorrow; and as its growth advances it never afterward, so far as human sight has penetrated, escapes from them. Why are they allowed? and what purpose do they serve? The soul exists in a body, and the body is the seat of sensations. Those sensations, whether pleasing or painful, belong to the physical organs, but they affect the spirit, and escape from them is impossible. Pain has a perceptible effect on the soul, even though the latter has no other relation to the body than that of tenant to a house. It suffers because of the intimate relations which it sustains to the organs through which it works. The individual soul is related to other souls. Therefore it has plans and purposes concerning them, and it has affinities which are inseparable from existence in society. Those purposes and affinities may be gratified or thwarted. The soul sometimes finds a response from the one whom it seeks and sometimes it does not. Pain belongs to the body, and sorrow is an experience of the soul. The body is in constant limitations, subject to diseases and accidents, and the soul is affected by all that the body feels. Because of these intimate relationships the soul is limited by ignorance, and defeated in its purposes. It becomes attached to other souls, and those attachments are either rudely shattered or roughly repulsed, and, consequently, the life of the soul is as full of sorrow as is a summer day of clouds. It faces its hindrances and rises by overcoming them. It finds pain besetting nearly every step of its advance, and the constant shadow of its existence is sorrow. Along such a pathway it moves in its ascent and, in spite of all opposition, it is never permanently hindered; while sorrow and suffering continually add to its strength. The austere experiences through which all pass hasten their spiritual growth. They are ever ministers of blessing; they pay no visits without leaving some fair gifts behind. Questions arise here which it is difficult to answer. Why are such ministries needed? Why could not the ascent of the spirit be along an easier pathway? Why should it be necessary to write its history in tears and blood? Inquiries like these are insistent. Optimism assumes that the end always justifies the means, even when we are in the dark as to why other means were not used; and that it is better to comfort ourselves with the beneficent fact than to refuse to be comforted because we may not penetrate the depths of the Cosmic process. The emphasis of thought may well rest here. The austere is never merely the severe. What seems to human sight to be evil and only evil, always has a side of benefit. The soul is purified and strengthened as it rises above animalism; it is made courageous by bodily pain; tears clarify its vision. Even Jesus is said to have been made perfect by the things which He suffered. The universal characteristic of life is growth, and growth ever reaches out of old and narrow toward new, larger and better environment. The soul needs strength, vision, sympathy, faith. These qualities are the fruit of experience. Muscle is converted into strength by use; and its use is possible only as it finds something to overcome. Vision is largely the fruit of training. The man on the lookout discovers a ship ahead long before the passenger on the deck. That fine accuracy of sight has come to him as he has battled with the tempests, and learned to distinguish between the whiteness of flying foam and the sunlight on a sail. Clearness of spiritual vision is acquired in the same way. He who can see even to "the far-off interest of tears" has been taught his discernment by reading the meaning of nearer events. Sympathy is the art of suffering with another without the definite choice to do so. One soul spontaneously enters into the condition of another and bears his pains and griefs as though they were his own; that is sympathy. But who ever bore the griefs of another before he himself had felt sadness? Sympathy is a fruit that grows on the tree of sorrow. So intensely is this felt that even kindly words in hours of deep trial are ungrateful if they come from one who had had no hard experience of his own. In proportion as one has borne his own griefs he is presumed to be able to bear the griefs of others. He who has passed through the valley of the shadow, and who knows the way, is the only one whose hand is sought by another approaching the same valley. No human characteristic is more beautiful, or more appreciated, than sympathy; but its genuineness is seldom trusted unless the one offering it is known to have suffered himself. Jesus is said to have been a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief, and, therefore, has led the long procession of the broken-hearted toward hope and peace. There is no other place known among men for the cultivation of sympathy except the school of suffering. If possible, faith even more than sympathy is dependent on struggle. There is no other conceivable means by which it can be acquired. It cannot be imparted. No multiplying of words increases faith. If one has been in the blackest darkness and some way, he knows not how, has been led out into light, it will be easier for him to think that the same experience may be realized again. If every sorrow has had in it some hidden seed of blessing; if the overcoming of hindrances has ever increased strength; if at the very moment that calamity seemed ready to destroy the storm has blown around, and this has occurred again and again, it is impossible to refrain from expecting, or at least hoping, that behind the darkness an unseen hand is making things to work for good. Faith is essential to courage. He never cares to struggle who knows that failure is just ahead. Courage is required as the soul progresses, and becomes more deeply conscious of the mysteries and enemies by which it is surrounded. Faith results from the experience of beneficent leading. If one has been guided by love through many periods, and if that love has always been found waiting for its object on every corner of life, it will, ere long, be expected, watched for, and trusted. Strength, vision, sympathy, courage, the fair attributes of the soul, all appear as it overcomes difficulties, fights doubts, goes deep into sorrow, and thus learns to realize that it is being led. It is easy to see how sorrow, pain, and death in the older legends and poetry were so often spoken of as beneficent angels. They are like those Sisters of Charity who hide beneath their long black bonnets serene and angelic faces. The austere in human life has never yet been explained, but it has been justified millions of times, and will be justified every time a human soul rises toward the goal for which all were created and toward which all, slowly or swiftly, are moving. These conclusions have many confirmations, and with some of them it will be worth while to spend a little time. Every thinking man's experience assures him that he grows by overcoming. Emerson has finely said that we have occasion to thank our faults, by which he means limitations; and he has also reminded us that the oyster mends its broken shell with pearl. We do not like overmuch to read with care our own experiences; but, when we are honest, we see that every struggle has left a residuum of added strength, that every loss has been a gain, that every calamity has opened doors into a larger world, and that what has been dreaded most has really most enriched us. Experience is a wise teacher. History confirms the witness of experience. The strong man has always gained strength by struggle. The story of a few of the preëminent teachers is impressive reading. Mahomet knew the bitter pangs of poverty; Epictetus was a slave; Socrates was regarded as a fanatic, if not a lunatic, by most of the people of Athens; Siddhartha is said to have been a useless and luxurious young man until, wearied with the monotony of his father's palace, he ventured into the larger world and saw wherever he went poverty, sickness, death. He was startled into activity by the want, woe, and misery through which his pathway led. Nearly all moral and spiritual leaders have had to suffer and thus grow strong. Mere genius has done little for human progress. It has made physical discoveries, but seldom touched the sphere of the soul. Elijah heard the voice of God in the midst of the terrors of the wilderness in which he was ready to die; Isaiah shared the usual fate of reformers and spoke his message into the ears of those who returned insult for warning. The story of Job is a long tragedy,--the world's tragedy, the tragedy of the soul in all ages. What deeps of anguish Dante fathomed before he could begin to write! Who can read the story of "Faust," as Goethe has interpreted it, without feeling that in it he has given the world in thin disguise much of his own life-story? Shakespeare alone, of men of genius of the first rank, seems to have learned comparatively few of his lessons in the school of suffering. But, possibly, if more were known of Shakespeare, it would be found that Lear, Macbeth, and Hamlet are but the expressions of lessons learned as he fought life's battle. The "In Memoriam" of Tennyson, the "De Profundis" of Mrs. Browning, and the rich and glorious music of Robert Browning could have come only from souls which had been profoundly moved by grief and pain. All men listen most attentively to those who have gone farthest into the dark shadows. The austere in human experience always accomplishes a purpose of blessing; and the soul comes into such an environment, not for the purpose of being humiliated, but in order that its strength may be developed, its sight clarified, and its powers perfected. Thus we reach a rational basis for optimism. It has been said that optimism must not only show that beneficent results are being accomplished in human life, but it must also justify the means by which such results are achieved. It is not enough to show that all will be well in the end; it must be shown that even grief, pain, loss, and death are ordained to be the servants of man. This is evident to all who allow themselves to reach to the deeper meanings of their limitations and sufferings. Opposite conclusions have been reached by some of those who have studied the hard and harsh phenomena of human life. The dreamy Hindu mind at first seemed to discern the truth that suffering is but the under side of blessing, and the hymns of the Vedas are full of hope and anticipation of better times; but, under the stress of prolonged disappointment and measureless calamities, bewildered in his attempt to explain the mystery of suffering, the Hindu at last came to deny its reality. But no bitter trials can be escaped by denial, and in India, to-day, disappointment and calamity are no less frequent than in elder ages. Refusal to believe in darkness effects no change in a midnight. The negation of precipices makes the ascent of a mountain no easier, and the denial of sickness, sorrow, and death deliver none from their presence. On the other hand, the very rocks that are the most difficult to scale will lift the climber toward an ampler horizon; and he who places his feet upon his temptations and sorrows will see in his own life the increasing purpose that widens with the suns. Slowly, and over many obstacles, the soul rises from its humiliation and presses toward the heights, and every forest passed and every mountain scaled adds to its stature, to the swiftness of its advance, and to the glory of its vision. The teaching of Jesus concerning the ministry of the austere has greatly changed the popular estimate of the value of many of the experiences through which men pass. Sorrow, pain, and death were formerly regarded as enemies, and only enemies, and they are still so regarded where the full force of His message is either not welcomed or not understood. The common opinion in many quarters, even to this day, is that suffering is either a hideous mistake in the universe, an awful nightmare, or a cruel mockery. Paul, using language as men used it in his time, spoke of death as an enemy. That he was speaking popularly, rather than technically, is evident because he also said that the sting of death--that which made it dreaded--is sin. Jesus, however, justified the method by which men are perfected; and His teaching harmonizes with what may be learned by a reverent scrutiny of the nature of things. The more carefully "the Cosmic process" is studied, the clearer it becomes that events are so ordered that, sooner or later, everything helps toward richer and better conditions. A tidal wave or a pestilence may seem to be inexplicable, but even pestilence teaches men habits of thrift and cleanliness, and tidal waves warn them of their points of danger. What has made the average of human life so much longer than it was formerly? That very mysterious pestilence has turned attention toward its causes, and thus the race has been made cleaner, purer, more fit to endure. Why do men live in houses with scientific plumbing, fresh air, and have well-cooked food? Because that fierce teacher, pestilence, has taught them that any other course means weakness and death. Whom nature loveth she chasteneth is a truth as clearly written in human history as "Whom the Lord loveth He chasteneth" is written in the Bible. The true attitude toward the austere, for a philosophic as for a Christian mind, is one of complacency. Every severity is intended for benefit. By wars the enormity of war is made evident. By disease the necessity for observation of the laws of health is emphasized. Even death, in the order of things, at last is a blessing, for one generation must give place to another, or the evils that Malthus feared would be quickly reached. Moreover death, in its proper time, is only nature's way of giving the soul its freedom. Hindrances in its path do not indicate the presence of an enemy but of a friend who discovers the only sure way of securing its finest development. The cultivation of the philosophic and Christian temper, which are practically the same, would make this a happier world. We could endure trials with more courage if we would but remember that they are as necessary to our growth as the cutting of a diamond is necessary to the revelation of the treasury of light which it holds. The heights of character are slowly reached, and, usually, only by the ministry of the austere; but once they are reached the horizon expands, and the soul finds in the clearer light peace if not joy. This course of reasoning does not make the mistake of regarding sin as less than dreadful. Every sin has hidden in its heart a blessing; but sin as such is never a blessing. It may be necessary for Providence to allow a spirit to sink again into animalism in order that it may be taught its danger, and made to realize that only through struggle can its goal be reached--but the animalism in itself is never beneficent. When we say that the process by which a man rises may be justified, we do not mean that all his choices are justifiable. The process of his growth provides for his fall, if he will learn in no other way, but it does not necessitate his fall; that is ever because of his own choice. A spirit may choose to return to the slime from which it has emerged. That choice is sin, but it can never be made without the protests of conscience which will not be silenced, and it is by those protests that a man is impelled upward again, and never by the sin in itself. No one was ever helped by his sin, but millions, when they have sinned, have found that the misery was greater than the joy, and this perpetual connection of sin and suffering is the blessed fact. Sin is never anything but hideous. The more unique the genius the more awful and inexcusable his fall. Even out of their sins men do rise, but that is because there sounds in the deeps of the soul a voice which becomes more pathetic in its warning and entreaty, the more it is disregarded. Those who desire to justify sin say that it is the cause of the rising. It may be the occasion, but it is never the cause. The occasion includes the time, place, environment,--but the cause is the impelling force; and sin never impels toward virtue. Satan has not yet turned evangelist. Because in the past the soul has risen, one need not be unduly optimistic to presume that, in spite of opposition, it will meet no enemies which it will not conquer, and find no heights which it will not be able to scale. Prophecy is the art of reading history forward. The spirit having come thus far, it is not possible to believe that it can ever permanently revert to the conditions from which it has emerged; neither can we believe that it will fail of reaching that development of which its every power and faculty is so distinct a prophecy. No light has ever yet penetrated far into the mystery of human suffering, sorrow, and sin. Why they need to be at all, has been often asked, but no one has furnished a reply which satisfies many people. With the old insistent and pathetic earnestness millions are still "knocking at nature's door" and asking wherefore they were born. Hosts of others are looking out on desolation and grief, thinking of the tears which have fallen and the sobs which are sure to sound in the future, and asking with eager and pleading intensity, why such things need be. Out of the heavens above, or out of the earth beneath, no clear answer has come. As we wonder and study, still deeper grows the mystery. Three courses are open to those who are sensitive to the hard, sad facts of the human condition. One is to say that all things in their essence are just as they seem; that sorrow, sin, death none can escape, that they are evils, and that a world in which they exist is the worst of possible worlds, and that there is neither God nor good anywhere. Then let us eat and drink, for to-morrow we die, and the quicker the end the sweeter the doom. Another way is simply to confess ignorance. Out of the darkness no voice has come. The veil over the statue of the god of the future has never been lifted, and inquiry concerning such subjects is folly. To this I reply agnosticism is consistent, but it is not wise. Because it cannot explain all things it turns from the clues which may yet lead out of the labyrinth. The other course, and the wiser, is to use all the light that has yet been given and from what is known to draw rational conclusions concerning what has not yet been fully revealed. Deep in the heart of things is a beneficent and universal law. In accordance with that law hindrances are made to minister to the soul's growth, the opposition of enemies is transmuted into strength, and moral evil resisted becomes a means of spiritual expansion and enlightenment. THE RE-AWAKENING I, Galahad, saw the Grail, The Holy Grail, descend upon the Shrine: I saw the fiery face as of a child That smote itself into the bread, and went; And hither am I come; and never yet Hath what my sister taught me first to see, This Holy Thing, fail'd from my side, nor come Cover'd, but moving with me night and day, Fainter by day, but always in the night.... * * * * * And in the strength of this I rode, Shattering all evil customs everywhere, And past thro' Pagan realms, and made them mine, And clash'd with Pagan hordes, and bore them down, And broke thro' all, and in the strength of this Come victor. --_The Holy Grail._ Tennyson. VI _THE RE-AWAKENING_ As despondency and a feeling of failure comes to every soul with the realization of its mistakes and sins, so there will some time come to all a period of Re-awakening. This statement is the expression of a hope which is cherished in the face of much opposing evidence. Nevertheless, that this hope is cherished by so many persons of all classes is a credit to humanity. It is difficult to believe that in the end an infinitely wise and good God will fail of the achievement of His purpose in regard to a single one of His creatures. The saddest fact in the ascent of the soul is sin. However it may be accounted for, it cannot be evaded, but must be honestly and resolutely faced. Sin is the deliberate choice to return to animalism, for a longer or shorter time, by a being who realizes that he is in a moral order, that he is free, and who has heard the far-off call of a spiritual destiny. It is the choice, by a spirit, of the condition from which it ought to have forever escaped. Imperfection and ignorance are not, in themselves, blameworthy and should never be classified as sins. Weakness always palliates a wrong choice. An evil condition is a misfortune; it does not justify condemnation. Sin always implies a voluntary act. That all men have sinned is a contention not without abundant justification. The better the man the more intensely he is humiliated by the consciousness of moral failure. After long-continued discipline, after much progress has been made, the soul again and again chooses evil; and, after it ought to have moved far on its upward career, it is found to be a bond-slave of tendencies which should have been forever left behind. This is the solemn fact which faces every student of human life. It is not a doctrine of an effete theology but a continuous human experience. The consciousness of moral failure is terrible and universal. This consciousness requires neither definition nor illustration. Experience is a sufficient witness. Who has been able exhaustively to delineate the soul's humiliation? Æschylus and Sophocles, Shakespeare and Goethe, Shelley, Tennyson, and Browning have but skimmed the surface of the great tragedy of human life. Hamlet, Lear, Macbeth, Faust, and Wilhelm Meister, Beatrice Cenci, the sad, sad story of Guinevere, and the awful shadows of the Ring and the Book--how luridly realistic are all these studies of the downfall of souls and the desolation of character! If they had expressed all there is of life it would be only a long, repulsive tragedy; but happily there is another side. To that brighter phase of the growth of the soul we turn in this chapter. What is the difference between the awakening of the soul and its re-awakening? Are they two experiences? or different phases of the same experience? The awakening is nearly simultaneous with the dawn of consciousness. It is the adjustment of the soul to its environment--the realization of its self-consciousness as free, as in a moral order, and as possessing mysterious affinities with truth and right. This realization is followed by a period of growth, during which many hindrances are overcome, and in which the ministries of environment, both kindly and austere, help to free it from its limitations and to promote its advance along the spiritual pathway. But while the soul dimly hears voices from above it has not yet, altogether, escaped from the influence of animalism. It dwells in a body whose desires clamor to be gratified. It is like a bird trying to rise into the air when it has not yet acquired the use of its wings. Malign influences are still about it, and earthly attractions are ever drawing it downward. It falls many times. I do not mean that it is compelled to fall, but that, as a matter of fact, its lapses are frequent and discouraging. In the midst of this painful movement upward, there sometime comes to the soul a realization of a presence of which it has scarcely dreamed before. It begins to understand that it is never alone, that its struggle is never hopeless because God and the universe, equally with itself, are concerned for its progress. It is humiliated by its failures, but it has learned that, however many times it may fail and however bitter its disappointment, in the end it must be victorious because neither principalities nor powers, neither things on the earth nor beyond the earth, can forever resist God. Thus hope is born, and he who one moment cries, Who shall deliver from this body of death? the next moment with exultation exclaims, I thank God through Jesus Christ, our Lord. The light which shines into the soul from Jesus Christ is the revelation of the coöperation of the Deity, and of the forces of the universe, with every man who is moving upward. The realization that, however deep the darkness, humiliating the moral failure, constant and imperious the solicitations of animalism, "the nature of things" and the everlasting love are on the side of the soul is its re-awakening. It now not only knows that it is free, in a moral order, and that voices from a far-off goal are calling it, but also that those who are with it are more than those who can be against it. Thus hope, confidence, power to resist, and faith even in the midst of failure dawn, and will never be permanently eclipsed. The re-awakening of the soul is now complete. This experience is traditionally called conversion. It is usually associated with an appropriation of the teaching of Jesus Christ, and inevitably follows an appreciation of His words and His work. But all the revelations of the Christ have not been through the historic Jesus. In every land, and in every age, souls have come to this new consciousness. It was said of Isaiah that he saw the Lord; and of Melchizedek that he was the priest of the most high God. The former was a Hebrew, but the latter was not in what was to be the chosen line of succession. The assurance that they are never alone has found many in what has seemed impenetrable darkness, and they have risen and moved upward. Instances of this kind are not limited to Christian lands, although they are most common where the Christian revelation is known. I cannot doubt that those who have not had this vision on the earth will have it some time and somewhere. The Divine power and purpose to save, and to save to the utter-most, are revealed with perfect clearness in the teachings of Jesus Christ. Nothing could be more explicit than His message that God loves all men, and that it is His will that all should repent and come to the knowledge of the truth. This stage of advance may be called the crisis in the ascent of the soul. Before this it has moved slowly and with faltering steps. Henceforth it will move more confidently and swiftly. But that does not mean that it will find that hindrances are all removed, or that no unseen hand will draw it downward. Some of the bitterest hours are to follow--days and, possibly, longer periods of spiritual obscuration; darkness like that of Jesus in which He cried, "My God, my God, why hast Thou forsaken me." Who can explain the appalling humiliation of a man when, as if a star had fallen from heaven, he sinks into awful and inexplicable selfishness or sensuality? It is not necessary that we explain, but we should remember that the goodness of God has so ordered things that even disgrace may lead to stronger faith, clearer vision, and tenderer sympathy. Austere ministries are still needed; only fire will consume the dross. The re-awakening of a soul is not its perfecting; but it is its realization that the process of perfecting must go on, and will go on, if need be along a pathway of shame and agony, until all that attracts to the earth and sensuality has disappeared, and the spirit, like a bird released, rises toward the heavens. The law that whatsoever a man soweth that shall he reap will never be transcended, and if an enlightened spirit ever chooses to sink once more into the slime it may do so; but it will at the same time be taught with terrible intensity the moral bearing of the physical law that what falls from the loftiest height will sink to the deepest depth. At last the soul realizes that it is in the hands of a sympathetic, holy, and loving Person, a Being who cannot be defeated, and who, in His own time and way, will accomplish His own purposes. That vision of God is the re-awakening, an inevitable and glorious reality in spiritual progress. What are the causes of this re-awakening? The causes are many and can be stated only in a general way. Moreover, spiritual experiences are individual, and the answer which would apply to one might not to another. The shock which attends some terrible moral failure, not infrequently, is the proximate cause of the re-awakening of the soul. There is a deep psychological truth in the old phrase, "conviction of sin." Men are thus convicted. Some act of appalling wrong-doing reveals to them the depths of their hearts and forces them in their extremity to look upward. Hawthorne, in his story, "The Scarlet Letter," has depicted the agony of a soul, in the consciousness of its guilt, finding no peace until it dared to do right and to trust God. In the "Marble Faun," in the character of Donatello, the same author has furnished an illustration of one who was startled into a consciousness of manhood and responsibility by his crime. It is the revelation of a soul to itself, not of God to the soul. In Donatello we see a soul awakened to self-consciousness and responsibility, but in "The Scarlet Letter" we have the example of a man inspired to do his duty by the revelation of God. Adoniram Judson was brought to himself by hearing the groans of a dying man in a room adjoining his own in a New England hotel. Luther was forced to serious thought by a flash of lightning which blinded and came near killing him. Pascal was returning to his home at midnight when his carriage halted on the brink of a precipice, and the narrowness of his escape aroused him to a realization of his dependence upon God. The sense of mortality, and the wonder as to what the consequences of wrong-doing in "the dim unknown" may be, have been potent forces in the re-awakening of souls. Still others have been given new and gracious visions of "the beauty of holiness." They have seen the excellence of virtue, and in its light have learned to hate the causes of their humiliation, and to press forward with courage and hope. Speculations concerning the causes of this spiritual change are easy, but they are of little value. Observation has never yet collected facts enough to adequately account for the phenomena. Probably the most complete and satisfactory answer that was ever given to such questions was that of Jesus when He was treating of this very subject: "The wind bloweth where it listeth, thou hearest the sound thereof, but canst not tell whence it cometh, and whither it goeth." The mystery of the soul's re-awakening has never been fathomed. Sometimes there has been flashed upon conscience, apparently without a cause, a deep and awful sense of guilt. Whence did it come? What caused it? Calamities many times sweep through a life as a tornado sweeps over a field of wheat, and when they have passed there is more than an appreciation of loss; there is a vision of the soul's unworthiness and humiliation. Again death comes exceedingly near, and, in a single hour, the solemnities of eternity become vivid, and the soul sees itself in the light of God. And again, the essential glory of goodness is so vividly manifest that the soul instinctively rises out of its sin, and presses upward, as a man wakens from a hideous nightmare. The more such phenomena are studied, the more distinct and significant do they appear and the more impossible becomes the effort to explain them. They may be verified, but they can never be explained. They are the results of the action of the Spirit of God on the spirit of man. Is this answer rejected as fanciful or superstitious? Then some of the most brilliant and significant events in the history of humanity are inexplicable. What caused the revolution in the character of Augustine by which the sensualist became a saint? Was it the study of Plato? or the prayers of Monica? or the preaching of Ambrose? We know not; rather let us say it was the Spirit of God. Who can define the process by which Wilberforce was changed from the pet of fashionable society to one of the heroes in the world's great crusade against injustice and oppression? Such inquiries are more easily started than settled. I repeat, the only rational and convincing word that was ever spoken on this subject is that of Jesus. The Spirit of God, whose ministry is as still as the sunlight, as mysterious as the wind, and as potent as gravitation, was the One to whom He pointed. How has this epoch in the ascent of the soul been treated in literature? I refer with frequency to the literary treatment of spiritual subjects because poets, dramatists, and writers of fiction, more than any other class of authors, have studied the soul in its depths, in its inspirations, and in the process by which it rises and presses toward its goal. The illustrations of this subject in the Scriptures are almost idyllic in their simplicity and beauty. There is more than flippancy in the remark that Adam's fall was a fall upward. The statement is literally true. The fall was no fiction, but a condition of enlightenment and growth. The exit from Eden was the beginning of the long, hard climb toward the City of God. The very moment when Isaiah saw Uzziah, the king, stricken with leprosy, he saw the Lord. The classical delineation of a soul attaining the higher knowledge is that of the prodigal son, who, when he came to himself, saw clearly that his father was waiting to welcome him. The "Idylls of the King" are a kind of "Pilgrim's Progress." In various ways they trace, and with matchless music rehearse, the growth of souls and their victories over spiritual enemies. One of the most pathetic stories ever told is that of the beautiful Queen Guinevere, who by shame and agony learned that "we needs must love the highest when we see it;" and who never appreciated the great love in which she was enfolded until Arthur, "moving ghost-like to his doom," had gone to fight his last great battle in the west. The world owes George MacDonald gratitude it will never repay;--such spiritual souls are never paid in the coin of this world. In "Robert Falconer," he taught his time with a lucidity and sweetness that none but Tennyson and Browning have equaled, and that not even they have surpassed, that a "loving worm within its clod were lovelier than a loveless God upon his Throne," and in "Thomas Wingfold" he has traced with epic fidelity the growth of a soul from moral insensibility to manly strength and vision. The description of the process by which Wingfold is brought to see that he, a teacher in the church, is a fraud and a hypocrite, and by which he is then lifted up and made worthy of his vocation as a minister of the glorious Gospel of the blessed God is a wonderful piece of spiritual delineation. With Guinevere the external humiliation was an essential stage in her soul's development; but with Wingfold there was no public disgrace,--only the not less poignant shame of a man who, looking into his own heart, finds nothing but selfishness and duplicity. His condition was a matter between himself, his friend, and his God; but none the less the humiliation was the means by which his soul's eyes were opened and his heart fired with a passion for reality. One result of the soul's re-awakening is the realization that it has relations to God and that they are at once the nearest, the most vital, and the most enduring of all its relations. Before, it had felt the call of duty and had recognized that it had affinities with truth and right; but now it has come into the consciousness of sonship. God is not distant and unrelated, but near and personally helpful. In a very real sense He is Father. He is interested in the welfare of His children; and His will has now become the law of their lives. The first awakening is to the consciousness of a moral order and of freedom; the second awakening is to the consciousness of God and of a near and vital relation with Him. The path of progress is still full of obstacles; there are still attractions for the senses in animalism and solicitations from something malign outside; but never again will the soul be without the realization that it is in the hands of a compassionate, as well as a just, God. I am inclined to think that the elder Calvinists were right in their contention that when the soul has once come to this saving knowledge of God it can never again "fall from grace," or from the consciousness of its relation to the One mighty to save. This does not mean that there may not be repeated and awful moral lapses. The soul's realization of God does not imply that it has become perfected. It has taken a long step in its ascent; it is now conscious of its destiny, and of the power which is working in its behalf; but far away stretch the spiritual heights and, before they can be reached, many a cliff must be scaled and many a glacier passed; and few reach those altitudes without many a savage fall, and without frequent hours of weariness, doubt, and despair. The sufferings and the chastisements of those who have come to this altitude often increase as the vision becomes clearer. The difference between the former condition and the present is this: in the former there was growth toward God without the conscious choice of God; but in the latter the soul sees and chooses for itself that toward which it has, heretofore, been impelled by the "cosmic process." That is a solemn and glad moment when, in the midst of the confusion, the soul hears faint and far the call of its destiny; but the one in which it realizes that it is related to God, and chooses His will for its law, is far more glad and solemn. That consciousness may be obscured, but never again will it utterly fail. The soul that knows that it came from God, and is moving toward God, never can lose that knowledge, nor long cease to feel the power of that divine attraction. A practical question at this stage of our inquiry concerns the relation of one soul to another. May those who have realized this experience help others to attain to it so that the process may be hastened and made easier? Must those who have been enlightened wait for those who are dear to them to be awfully humiliated by sin, or terribly crushed by sorrow, before the light can fall upon their pathway? Is there no way by which a soul may be brought to the knowledge of God except by bitter trials? One individual may help another to acquire other knowledge,--must it make an exception of things spiritual? That cannot be. What one has learned, in part at least, it may communicate to another, and the constant and growing passion with those who know God is to tell others of Him. All plans of education should include the communication of the highest knowledge. He who seeks the physical or mental development of his boy and cares not to crown his work by helping him to a realization that he is a child of God, and a subject of His love, has sadly misconceived the privilege of education. All curricula should move toward this consciousness as their consummation and culmination. Geology, biology, physiology, the languages, philosophy, the science of society should be so studied as to lead directly to Him in whom all live and move and have their being. The home, the school, the church should be organized so as to obviate, in great measure, the necessity of learning the deepest truths in the school of suffering. No holier privilege is given to one human soul than that of whispering its secret into the ears of another who has not yet attained the wisdom which comes only by living. God be merciful to the parent who is anxious about the mental culture of his child and never tells him of the deeper possibilities of his life, or never repeats to him the messages which he has heard in silent and lonely hours. The growth of a soul in the knowledge of God may be measured by the intensity of its desire to help other souls to the same knowledge. What will the re-awakened soul do? It will be as individual and distinctive in its action as before. The divine life in the souls of men manifests itself in ways as various and numerous as solar energy is manifested in nature. Variety in unity is the law of the spirit. Every person will be led to do those things, to hold those beliefs, and to minister in the ways for which he has been prepared. The experience of one can never be made the model for another, and the message which the Spirit speaks in the ears of one may never be spoken in the ears of another. Uniformity is neither to be expected nor to be desired. The soul which realizes that it belongs to God will choose to live for Him, and in its own way will forever move toward Him. Henceforward His will will be its law. This is all we know and all we need to know. THE PLACE OF JESUS CHRIST I say, the acknowledgment of God in Christ Accepted by thy reason, solves for thee All questions in the earth and out of it, And has so far advanced thee to be wise. --_A Death in the Desert._ Browning. 'Tis the weakness in strength that I cry for! my flesh that I seek In the God-head! I seek and I find it. O Saul, it shall be A Face like my face that receives thee; a Man like to me, Thou shalt love and be loved by, for ever: a Hand like this hand Shall throw open the gates of new life to thee! See the Christ stand! --_Saul._ Browning. VII _THE PLACE OF JESUS CHRIST_ In the ascent of the soul do light and power come to its assistance from outside and from above? Is evolution alone a sufficient guarantee that it will some time reach its goal? These are not so much questions of theory as of fact, and as such will be treated in this chapter. Light and power have come to the race in its struggles upward from one source as from no other. In history one figure appears colossal and unique. Whether we classify Jesus Christ with men, or regard Him as a special divine manifestation is of little consequence in our inquiry. If He is the consummate flower of the evolutionary process, then, because of some unexplained influence, that process reached a degree of perfection in Him that it has reached in no other. If it pleased God in a single instance to hasten the process, the result is not less inspiring and illuminating than it would have been if the divine purpose had been directly and instantly accomplished. The teachers and leaders have ever been helpers of their fellow-men. In evolution, as in the race of life, some always move more swiftly than others; and those who are far in advance may, if they choose, become the servants of those who move more slowly. One Being has appeared in the midst of the ages who is so far superior to all others that He may be regarded as the revelation of the soul's true goal, but who is, at the same time, so unlike others as to convince many, at least, that He is also the revelation in humanity of a higher power which is cooperating with the soul in its ascent. In this chapter no attempt will be made to meet the various questions that the formal theologians have raised. I cannot feel that such subjects as "satisfaction," "expiation," "plan of salvation" are of any practical importance, and I leave them to those who care for them. In the meantime let us ask, What aid does the soul need in its passage through its life on the earth? It needs light and power. We do not meditate long on the soul's advance without realizing that it has been constantly reinforced from outside itself. This phase of our subject will be considered in the chapter on "The Inseparable Companion." It may, I think, be said that what the soul needs more than anything else is light, and that all necessary light has been furnished. Jesus said, "I am the Light of the World." That statement is literally true. There may be room for perplexity as to the credibility of parts of the New Testament, and as to what is called the miraculous element in history. There is also room for difference of opinion as to the nature of the person of Jesus, and as to His supernatural mission; but few would deny that, if they could feel sure that He was actually from above, they would accept His message because it contains all the ethical and spiritual knowledge that men need in their earthly lives. A single assumption is made at the beginning of our study. It is as follows: What satisfies our minds and hearts, in their hours of deepest need and brightest illumination, should always be accepted as true until it is proven to be false. The profoundest subjects of thought and life are illuminated by the ministry and the teaching of Jesus Christ. The last word concerning these subjects has not yet been spoken. Even our Bible is but a collection of scattered rays of the true light. What vaster revelations may come to men in future ages no one can predict. As growth goes on, the soul will be fitted to receive messages which it could not now understand; but all that men need to know in their present stage of development is clearly revealed in the teaching, and the example, of the Man of Nazareth and Calvary. He is the brightest light on the deepest and darkest problems. Let us try to understand and define the place of Jesus Christ in the ascent of the soul. Jesus Christ has given the world a rational and satisfying doctrine of God. Other teachers have tried to answer the inquiry, Does God exist? Jesus treated that question as an astronomer treats the sun. No sane scientist would fill his pages with speculations as to the reality of the sun. It moves and shines in the heavens; beginning with that fact, the astronomer asks concerning the function which the sun performs in the solar system and in the universe. Jesus discarded speculation and found the key to the doctrine of God in the family, the simplest and most elemental of human institutions. There may be wide differences concerning the nature of government, the sanctions of law, etc., but there is no room for debate concerning the meaning of the parental relation. It interprets itself. Tell a child that a man is his father, and he can be told no more. The name interprets the relation. In earlier times the vastness of the creation was but dimly appreciated, and then the idea of God was equally contracted. Jesus taught that the Deity, whether the conception of Him was small or large, was to be interpreted in terms of fatherhood. What an ideal father is to his family God is to the race and to the universe. That meant one thing when the father was little more than the protector of a tribe; it means something greater, but not essentially different now. The conception of the universe is one of the most revolutionary that ever entered the human mind. The conception of a tribe is larger than that of a family; of a nation larger than that of a tribe; of the race larger than that of the nation; but the conception of the universe, with its myriads of worlds and possible multiplicity of races, is the amazing contribution which science has made to the thought of to-day. While the conception of the Deity has been enlarged the principle of interpretation remains unchanged. Are we thinking of Jehovah the God of Israel? He is the Father of the tribe. Has our idea expanded so as to include all the nations? God is the Father not of a limited number but of all that dwell upon the earth. Has the horizon been lifted to take in heavenly heights? Are we now thinking of immensities, eternities, and the cosmic process? The teaching of Jesus is not transcended; we still continue to interpret in terms of fatherhood, and say all time, all space, all men, all purposes and processes in the infinities and eternities are in the hands of the Father. But when we have ascended to such a height what does the word Father mean? Exactly the same in essence that it meant in the humblest of Judean households among which Jesus moved. The father there was the one who made the home, sustained it, defended it, watched over it by day and by night; in exactly the same way the followers of Jesus think of the Spirit who pervades all things. He creates, He cares for, He defends, He provides, He loves, He causes all processes to work for blessing to the intelligent beings who are His children. Jesus in a peculiar way identified himself with the Deity. That does not mean that all the divine omnipotence and glory were in that Man of Nazareth, but it does mean that all of the Deity that could be expressed in terms of humanity were visible in Him, so that those who saw Jesus saw God as far as He could be manifested in the flesh. Beyond that veil were abysses and heights of being which could not be expressed in human terms; but in all the spaces we may dare to believe that there is nothing essentially different from what was revealed in that unique Man. A bay makes a curve in the Atlantic seaboard; its shallow waters are all from the deeps of the sea. Tides that move along all the seas, and forces which reach to the stars, fill that basin among the hills. The bay is the ocean, but not all of it; for if we were to sail around the earth we should find the same body of water reaching out to vaster spaces. Even so the person of Jesus included all of God that humanity can contain, but Bethlehem and Jerusalem, Gethsemane and Calvary were to the Deity as some land-locked harbor to the immensities of the universe. In Him love reached to enemies, to the outcast, to those who had been called refuse and rubbish, to men of all classes in all the ages, to lepers, beggars, criminals, lunatics, harlots, thieves, little children; those who appreciated and those who hated alike were all included in the infinite purpose of blessing. Those who have seen the love of Jesus, and its ministries, have seen the Father; but beyond the love of Galilee and Calvary reach depths of love which even the cross is powerless to express. Divine sympathy and divine affection bind all men in a universal family; this we know, and this is all we know. That teaching is so simple that a child can understand it; so profound that no philosopher has ever transcended it; and so satisfying that neither child nor philosopher would have it changed either as to its simplicity or its fullness. Jesus furnishes the light which the soul needs on the nature of man. Wonderfully has Holman Hunt elaborated this truth in his picture "The Light of the World." The ideal humanity never had more beautiful expression than in that great sermon in color. The poise of the figure of Jesus indicates strength and self-control; the thorns on the brow tell their story of sorrow and pain; the hand at the door shows that one man at least is mindful of the welfare of His brother; the radiance on the face and the inspiration in the eyes are the outshining of the goodness which dwells within; while the light from the whole person, which reaches far into the gloom, shows that the more nearly perfect the being the more beneficent and beautiful his influence must be. Is Jesus Christ the brightness of the Father's glory? He reveals also the beauty and helpfulness, the love and the service of the ideal man. He is the pattern of our common humanity. Are we in the midst of a process of evolution? And is the man that is to be still far in the distance? When he shall walk this earth he will be the spiritual reproduction of Jesus, changed only to meet the requirements of other times and new conditions. The revelation of the ideal humanity was hardly less revolutionary than that of the enlarged universe. Formerly men were regarded as things, commodities to be bought and sold, creatures without souls, objects to be used. But Jesus taught that all men are children of God; therefore that they have the very life of God; therefore that they are created for His eternity, and will forever approach His perfection. This vision of the perfected race has been at work changing national boundaries, destroying hoary institutions, undermining thrones, and making a new world. A glance shows the revolutionary quality of His teaching. Slavery was the curse of every land. With force on the one side and weakness on the other oppression was inevitable. Jesus taught that even weakness may be divine, and lo! from every civilized land slavery has already gone, and from the world it is fast disappearing. According to the orthodox economic doctrine, supply and demand was the law that should govern the relation between employer and employee. The largest profit and the smallest wages was the watchword. As the teaching of Jesus has penetrated further into the dealings of man with man employers are beginning to realize that labor has to do with human beings; that manhood is enduring and that conditions are ephemeral; and that whosoever oppresses his brother, even in the name of economic law, at last will have to reckon with the Almighty. Thus a new and more beneficent social order is slowly but surely emerging. The doctrine of the survival of the fittest is, even now, applied to men where the teaching of Jesus that Providence has made a way for the survival of the unfit is unknown or ignored. In all lands the revelation in Jesus of the ideal manhood, and of the destiny toward which all men are moving is changing and glorifying human society. He is the one whom "the low-browed beggar," and the criminal with a vicious heredity, are some time to approach. Is it difficult to select the one phrase of all human utterances which has exerted the largest influence in ameliorating the human condition? Would it not be,--"Inasmuch as ye did it unto one of the least of these, ye did it unto Me." The identification of humanity with Deity, the revelation of the divine in the human, the solemn truth that no one can injure or neglect his brother without, at the same time, violating all that is sacred and holy in the universe is the culminating point in the revelation of man to himself. In the light which Jesus sheds on humanity all men appear in their enduring rather than their transitory relations. The life and teaching of Jesus make the awful and insoluble mystery of suffering endurable. He satisfies no curiosity on this subject. Why suffering is permitted He does not tell us. He never allowed himself to be diverted from His one purpose, which was not to solve problems but to improve conditions. If any one approaches the New Testament expecting to find an answer to his speculative questions he will be disappointed; but if he asks, How may I so use the conditions in which I am placed that they will minister to my spiritual purification and power? he will receive a definite and satisfying reply. Why need sorrow, suffering, sin, and death invade the fair realm into which man has been born? Other teachers seek to answer this question but Jesus is silent. How may sorrow, suffering, and even moral evil be made ministers of an upward movement? On this subject Jesus speaks with a tone of authority. Among the world's teachers He was the first to declare that while austere experiences are not good in themselves they may, uniformly, become means of moral and spiritual progress. The sweet may always be found in the bitter. Sorrow may always be made a blessing. Tears never need be wasted. Struggle always adds to strength; and sympathy is multiplied when one bears the grief and carries the burden of another. Do not brood over what you are called to endure, but seek for the secret of spiritual help which is hidden within, and you will find that on every grief and every pain you may rise, as on stepping-stones, to higher things. Jesus was the supreme optimist. Those who study life and history in the light which shines from Him see that no human being walks with aimless feet. They do not think of men as unrelated units, but as bound by love to one another, and as living under the eye and in the strength of God. In that light sorrow and pain may be justified, even though in themselves they are hateful. The poison which destroys life, if rightly used, will save life. Apart from God and His purpose of love, nothing is more to be dreaded than pain; but in His hands pain becomes the servant and not the master of men. I can think of nothing more dreary than the study of human life and history apart from the interpretations put upon them by Jesus. Then one generation seems to follow another, and the long procession, even though the character of those composing it steadily improves, always ends at the same goal,--the grave. Millions live and die like the beasts that perish. They aspire, struggle, and are determined to rise, but just when they are fitted to endure, and to enter upon ampler spheres of service, the curtain falls on the tragedy, the stage scenery is changed, a new company of players takes their places, and the farce, for it is a farce as well as a tragedy, goes on from century to century, and there is no meaning in anything. If that were the true interpretation of life, on earth's loftiest mountain there might well be raised a temple in honor of death; and around it all the races of men be invited to join in the chorus, "Happy is the next one who dies!" But a better interpretation of human life's mystery has been given. Jesus looked over its apparent desolation and confusion and poured upon it divine light. He taught that it is not the Father's will that even one should perish. Men are not being ground in an infinite mill, but they are being refined and purified by the only processes which will develop in them both strength and beauty. Out of confusion harmony will come, and out of the battle of the elements peace will dawn at last. To those who know that pain and sorrow are ministers of strength and sympathy, that by them narrow horizons are widened and deserts made to blossom, human life does not seem so confused and terrible as it has sometimes been pictured. Jesus makes evident the upward movement of the race, and shows, let me repeat, that it is "under the eye and in the strength of God." He was made perfect through suffering. The thorns on His brow tell their own pathetic story. The passion vine above His head, and beneath His feet, indicate that even His sufferings are not without a purpose of blessing, and therefore are fully justified. And now we approach the saddest of all the dark experiences through which the soul passes,--the mystery of sin. Of its enormity I have already spoken; but what about its origin, its uses, and its continuance? The question of its origin Jesus does not even mention. It is not recognized as having any uses. It may be made an occasion of good, but it is never ordained in order that good may come. Hardly any other subject occupies so large a place in the teachings of Jesus. It was said of Him, "His name shall be called Jesus, for He shall save His people from their sins;" and of Him Paul wrote, "God commendeth His love toward us in that when we were yet sinners Christ died for us." The terrible blight of moral evil, whatever its genesis, cannot be explained away. Jesus passed by all other questions and devoted the largest part of His ministry, as a teacher, to showing how the soul may escape from the power, and be delivered from the bondage, of sin. This is the practical problem. As one surveys the race the imperative inquiry concerns deliverance. What light does Jesus shed upon this mystery? He shows that sin is an incident in the ascent of the soul, and not an end; that it is hateful and unnatural; and that all the strength and goodness of God are pledged to its removal. The soul will be allowed to be in bondage only so long as is necessary for its complete emancipation. Moral evil is tolerated at all not because it is a good in itself, but in order that the soul may learn that its safety and strength are to be found only in conformity to the will of God. Jesus reveals the way of escape and thus confers upon the race the greatest of possible blessings. This he does by the revelation of the Fatherhood of God, which is not only compassionate but also holy. Because God is the Father of all souls, when any one ceases to do evil and begins to do well, or in other words repents, he finds a welcome and help waiting for him. And Jesus clearly indicates, also, that in the constitution of the soul, and in the inexorableness of moral law, there is a deep remedial agency which is ever active, giving no individual rest until it finds it in God. The tragedy of the cross was preeminently a revelation. The cross is the manifestation, in terms of human life, of the passion of the universe and of God. There must be suffering in all who are good, until sin disappears. The cross is the revelation of the Eternal God in sacrifice for the redemption of souls in bondage to selfishness and animalism. Jesus taught that sin is to be abolished. By means of the revelations of holiness, the sacrifices of love, the remedial agency in the universe, and by His own new life the forces of evil are to be broken, and the soul allowed to enter into its freedom as a child of God. This is not a subject for definition and dogmatism. The greatest things cannot be defined, but they may be appropriated. The light, the air, gravitation and all elemental forces transcend definition. The love of God revealed on the cross is too holy and too transcendent for "scheme and plan." It may be accepted in a spirit of worship, but it can be comprehended no more than the process by which rain and soil are transmuted into nourishment, and light into physical strength and beauty. The cross is the pledge of the redemption of the soul through the love and power of God; and beyond that we have no knowledge except that wherever that cross has been lifted up men have been drawn unto truth and virtue, love and brotherhood. More than poetry and sentiment has found expression in a popular hymn which thrills with a power which has been verified again and again in human history: "In the cross of Christ I glory, Towering o'er the wrecks of time All the light of sacred story Gathers round its head sublime." Jesus has furnished no clew to the origin of moral evil, but He has given to the hope that it is to be overcome in the individual, the race, and the universe, the testimony of His teaching and the emphasis of His death. Which is the greater mystery, life or death? A satisfying answer is impossible, since we cannot think of one without thinking of its opposite. What is life? Whence is it? Why is it? Such are some of the questions which arise and elicit no response when one meditates upon the mystery of living. What is death? What purpose does it serve? Is it an end or a beginning? Such are some of the inquiries which cannot be escaped when one, for even a few moments, looks, as all some time must look, on the still and peaceful face of one who has ceased to breathe. Who shall answer our questions? Of all who have attempted to fathom these depths One alone has brought a message which is satisfying both to the minds and hearts of those who think. Does any light from Jesus penetrate the mystery of death? What others have groped after he has declared. He taught that the universe is like a house of many rooms, and that dying is but passing from one room to another. In His own experience He illustrated His teachings. He ministered to His disciples; He communed with those whom He loved until their hearts burned within them. Then He disappeared and has been seen no more. But why did He appear at all after death? Was it not to confirm the message of the Transfiguration that those who seem to die only change the mode of their existence, and continue their companionships and ministries even after they have laid aside their bodies? In the passage in the Gospel of Matthew, which may be called the parable of the judgment, Jesus taught that the moral order is not changed by the transition from bodily to disembodied existence. The thoughts which men think, and the actions which they perform, affect the substance of the soul. Evil works misery and virtue leads to happiness beyond the grave as well as here. Seed sown on the earth may grow to its harvest in the ages that lie beyond. This is all the light on this subject that we need now. Death removes no one beyond the watch and care of the infinite love. In the home of the Heavenly Father His children pass from place to place, as He calls. Jesus appeared to those who loved Him, and was recognized by them, and that indicates that, whatever the changes of the future, the spiritual body will be recognized by all who love. The moral order is universal, and no change will touch the everlasting distinctions between right and wrong, or diminish the obligation to choose the right and refuse the wrong. These are some of the lessons which are impressed upon us as we meditate upon the life and teachings of Jesus and their relation to the ascent of the soul. He is the light of all souls. Into the darkness His glory has been extending and expanding from His own time until now. If we may judge the future from the past, it is easy to believe that this radiance will not fail from among men until all realize that life and death, time and eternity, humanity and history, are beset behind and before by the Divine Fatherhood; that the goal of the race is the fullness of Christ; that the severest experiences sometimes achieve the best results; that sin will not forever darken the history of humanity; that death is a passage not an abyss; an opening not a closing; a beginning not an ending; and that beyond stretch opportunities of limitless life and immortal growth. THE INSEPARABLE COMPANION The prayers I make will then be sweet indeed, If Thou the Spirit give by which I pray: My unassisted heart is barren clay, Which of its native self can nothing feed: Of good and pious works Thou art the seed, Which quickens only where Thou say'st it may Unless Thou show to us Thine own true way, No man can find it: Father! Thou must lead. Do Thou, then, breathe those thoughts into my mind By which such virtue may in me be bred That in Thy holy footsteps I may tread; The fetters of my tongue do Thou unbind, That I may have the power to sing of Thee, And sound Thy praises everlastingly. --_Sonnet from Michael Angelo._ Wordsworth. VIII _THE INSEPARABLE COMPANION_ As the soul moves along its upward pathway it gradually becomes conscious of many inspiring truths. Among the most delightful and helpful of these is the fact that it is never alone, but is one of a great company all pressing toward the same goal and all passing through substantially the same experiences. In the midst of these companionships, which are variable, and of these experiences which can seldom be predicted, it slowly becomes aware that there is one companionship which is constant, beneficent, and singularly illuminating. The realization of this fellowship is intensely individual. Of it others may speak, but concerning it they can give little information. The full consciousness is always a personal one. Having once enjoyed communion with the Over-soul it is difficult to imagine that any are ever without this supreme spiritual privilege. Sometimes the sense of spiritual coöperation is so vivid and continuous, so compassionate and helpful, as to be almost startling--in those moments when it seems to beset us behind and before. The process by which a soul becomes conscious that it is forever attended by a companion, whose one object seems to be to help it toward the spiritual heights, will repay the most careful examination. To that delightful and difficult study we will now turn. Before it has advanced far on its pathway the soul becomes painfully aware of the dangers by which it is surrounded and of the obstacles which it must overcome. The road before it seems to be infested with enemies. Its defeats are frequent and humiliating. It learns much by experience; but the more it learns the clearer it seems to discern the difficulties which it must meet. In the midst of the confusion and failure it slowly becomes aware that warning voices are speaking, and that they are loudest when moral peril is near. This is one of those simple facts which may be verified by every thoughtful man, but which no thoughtful man would ever dream of trying to explain. So simple and elemental is this truth that it may best be enforced by commonplace illustrations, and by something like a personal appeal. A very distinguished man was one day walking with a friend along a street in Edinburgh, when they came to one of the numerous wynds which lead from the main thoroughfare into the midst of huge and gloomy buildings. There the man stopped and asked to be excused while he entered the wynd. Returning, after a moment, he explained his act by saying that, in his young manhood, he had been tempted to do something which would have wrecked his life. Just as he came to the place that he had visited there sounded in his ears such a vivid warning as made it morally impossible for him to proceed on his course of wrong-doing. He felt sure that that voice was from above, for his whole nature, until that instant, seemed to have been set on what would have led to moral ruin. Another person testified that he was once on the verge of doing what would have brought him undying disgrace when, as if she had been drawn out of the air, his mother stood before him, looking reproachfully at him. Thus the fascination of temptation was broken by what he always believed to have been a veritable spiritual presence. Another experience is perfectly attested. A man in a distinguished position did wrong, and was in peril of still greater wrong when something, he could not have explained what, not only warned him but kept warning him and following him so that he could not escape. If he closed his eyes his danger became more vivid; if he stopped his ears voices of reproach found their way in. He loved his wrong and would move toward it, but then invisible hands seemed to hold him back until the time of danger was past, and he was confirmed in right ways. Such experiences are too numerous and varied to be doubted. No facts are better attested. It may be said that they are only the usual warnings of conscience. Be it so. Then what is conscience? The factors in the problem are not materially changed, for the phenomena of conscience are as remarkable, constant, and verifiable as light and heat. Most men who have recorded their experiences, and who have observed with care the workings of their own faculties, have been conscious of being attended by some invisible presence warning them against evil. The explanation of this phenomenon may be left for later consideration. Closely allied to warnings against moral danger, which are so vivid as sometimes to be almost audible, are the evidences of what may be called spiritual protection. The idea of guardian angels and tutelary deities arose naturally and inevitably. Many who have been astonishingly delivered from spiritual peril have been able to find no other explanation of their escape. Those who receive the confidences of their fellow-men have little difficulty in believing such a story as was once confided to me. An able and prominent man who had, resolutely as he thought, turned from a course of conduct which threatened disaster, found himself drawn toward the evil from which he supposed that he had been forever delivered. The attraction seemed to be resistless. Again and again he was on the verge of falling when the fall would have been ruin. Then something made it morally impossible for him to enter upon the path which he had determined to follow. The means used to dissuade him were various. Sometimes a friend would call, then a duty would intervene, then some obligation would press until, to use his own way of phrasing it,--"it seemed as if some unseen person who could read my thoughts and desires was walking by my side and, as fast as I was in danger of yielding to evil, ordering events so as to prevent me from doing what I wanted to do." Few men who are trying to live on spiritual levels would hesitate to acknowledge that they have been the subjects of similar protection. The peculiar feature about it all is that the agents used are so often entirely unconscious of the influence which they are exerting. An unseen hand seems to be guiding our moves on the chess-board of life, so as to check us every time that we are inclined to play falsely. I do not mean that all are persuaded toward virtue, but I do mean that enough are protected from moral evil and spiritual peril to justify the belief that such ministries are around all; and that those who choose to do wrong do so in the face of spiritual appeals which, if they would but give them heed, would make resistance of evil easy and successful. If any one who reads these words doubts my conclusions, let him study his own life, with a little care, and learn for himself whether there are not many hours in which he is almost persuaded to accept the ancient doctrine of guardian angels. This phase of the spiritual experience is rendered still more vivid when we remember that the souls of men are perpetually dissatisfied with present attainments, and ever eager in their efforts to explore the unseen. The history of human thought, if it could be written, would show that the mind has never been satisfied with what it has possessed, and that each new glimpse of truth has stimulated still more ardent inquiry. The more it is pondered the more impressive this fact becomes. The soul seems to have had just before it, in all the stages of its development, a spiritual forerunner opening a way into larger and fairer realms. This consciousness is not akin to a passion for wealth. A man with enormous riches often ceases to acquire, and devotes himself to the enjoyment of what he possesses; but who ever heard of a thoughtful man who felt that he might cease investigating and devote himself to the pleasures of knowledge? Such instances there may have been, but they are not numerous and have never been recorded. Of course there are many, who in no true sense can be called seekers after truth, who do not trouble themselves with questions about the Unseen. They chew the cud of custom with all the placidity of good-natured oxen. They do not live,--they simply exist. It is possible for any man to shut his eyes to the light, but that does not banish the light. It envelops him, and pours its splendors around him, regardless of his wilful blindness. Millions are so engrossed with selfishness, or animalism, that they catch the accents of no spiritual message, but those appeals are never hushed. The deafness of the multitudes who will not hear does not prove that no voices are calling. In some way men have been kept dissatisfied with their ignorance and persistent in their search for truth. I make no distinction between sacred and secular here because all truth is sacred. Scientist and theologian alike have to do with reality. Whether we examine the tracks of an extinct animal on ancient rocks, or bow our heads in prayer, we are facing a real world which is steadily enlarging. For centuries men have sought the causes of things; they have been made to feel that they ought to do right, and then have been inspired with a passion to discover the right. This is very wonderful. The being who has almost limitless powers of physical enjoyment, whose senses are exquisitely fitted for pleasure, is not satisfied with pleasure, but, in obedience to unseen attractions, ever seeks for higher things. Whence does this eagerness come? Is it from man himself? Then our problem is great indeed, for, at one and the same time, something within himself impels him upward, and another something drags him downward. But the point for special consideration now is that the soul is never satisfied with anything but truth, that the history of thought is the record of the search for truth, that every new discovery has acted as a stimulus to still more ardent exploration, and that the search is always for elemental realities, the causes of phenomena, for "things as they are." The promise of Jesus was fulfilled long before it was spoken. Some one, in all the ages, has been leading into truth and showing things to come; and the process was never more evident than after all these years of intellectual and spiritual progress. I say some one has led. By that I mean a personal spirit, unseen, but ever present; for how could he whose home is in the mire be supposed, steadily and unwaveringly, to reach toward the skies unless there was some attraction in the skies? The only attraction for one spirit is another spirit. This age-long, unwavering passion for truth and progress, the wisest of men have believed to have been inspired by Providence or God or by guardian angels--which after all are only other ways of stating the doctrine of Jesus concerning the Holy Spirit. Another phase of this subject is the power, which has seemed to come from outside the soul, to sustain and help those who have been called to endure bitter and long-continued sorrow and pain. Those who feel themselves to be weak as water under the stress of severe trial, almost without previous suggestion, assume the proportions of heroes. They endure and suffer with patience what would crush those who are only physically brave and strong. A woman who seemed to have few resources in herself, suddenly lost four children. In speaking of it, she very simply but forcefully, said: "I could never have endured it myself." She believed that her fragility had been reinforced by one stronger than herself. Exceptional physical courage will account for deeds of amazing heroism like that displayed at the sinking of the Merrimac in the harbor of Santiago. Some persons are thus gifted by nature, as others have a poetic temperament. But exhibitions of physical valor, stimulated by the consciousness of world-wide applause, are very different from the patience with which weak persons accept heavy burdens without a murmur, and carry them apparently without assistance, sustained only by the consciousness of being right. How shall we explain the singular devotion of Monica to Augustine? By mother-love? But mother-love might have been content with the greatness of her son, and his regard for her. She bore on her heart "the salvation of his soul," and would not cease in her quest for his spiritual welfare. A profligate father, the degraded ideals which justified vice, distances which seemed to be almost world-wide, did not daunt her. Without haste and without rest she sought to bring her gifted son to his Saviour. He had fame, and at least all the wealth that he needed, but Monica never faltered in her prayers, or in her service, until her son bowed before the cross, albeit for years she carried a heavy heart. The age of martyrdom has passed but not the age in which men of vision and strength have to serve their fellow-men with neither pecuniary compensation nor expressed approval. And yet the number is steadily increasing who quietly undertake herculean tasks for their fellow-men, knowing that they will be neither appreciated nor understood, but, instead, will have to suffer social ostracism, which is sometimes quite as hard to endure as physical martyrdom. When a strong and earnest man undertakes a service in which he must be misunderstood, and seldom if ever applauded, when he chooses suffering with joy in order that he may serve others, when he is willing to accept discomfort, social hunger, physical pain, and without complaint continue in such a path, although opportunities of worldly emolument and honor make their appeals to him, it is difficult to explain the phenomena by simply saying that he is finding strength in some hitherto unknown chamber of his own personality. It would be easy to make a list of illustrations, long and pathetic, of those who have patiently endured tribulation, who have accepted heavy burdens and carried them without flinching that others might be relieved, who have had physical deformity, depression of mind, and pain of body, and yet who have never faltered as to their duty even when the way was dark. The world's noblest heroes are to be found among those who suffer but still endure and aspire in the night and silence, clinging to duty when no one understands, and much less approves. Such heroisms need explanation, and they have it in the inspiration and the regeneration which are mediated by the Inseparable Spiritual Companion. Phenomena like those of which I have thus far been speaking have been observed in every age and every land. Some like Socrates have felt themselves warned against evil courses; others like Augustine have been protected from moral and spiritual death; others like Sakya-Muni have been led to give up wealth and power for truth and service; others, who could draw upon no hidden source of strength, have been sustained in the midst of trials which have seemed heavy enough to crush; and, most wonderful of all, in spite of all vices and crimes, all darkness and ignorance, all bondage to ignoble ideals and slavery to commercialism and pleasure, the race of man has never been content with things as they have been. As the moon draws the tides by unseen attractions, so by unseen attractions the souls of men have been made dissatisfied, and drawn toward truth and beauty, love and holiness; and this desire for some better country has never been absent. The passage from Egypt to the promised land is the eternal parable of humanity, which is always getting out of some Egypt, with its slavery and tyranny, and pressing toward some intellectual and spiritual Canaan. This is one of the most marvelous facts in the history of our race--its discontent with things as they are, its faith in something better, and the perfect confidence with which it embarks on unknown seas in its search for ampler and fairer worlds. The history of the past is the record of the weak receiving strength, of the wicked being made uncomfortable in their wickedness, of limited and provincial creatures reaching out to broad and high horizons, of weakness, suffering, agony, willingly endured in the confidence that relief and blessing will come at last, though far off, to all. Moreover, there is no indication of any cessation of such phenomena. In these days, when we say that no man should be asked to affirm anything which he cannot verify, voices of warning and entreaty are vivid, the consciousness of protection is distinct, support in trial is frequent, and the evidence that some force, or some person, is steadily leading humanity toward truth and righteousness is as convincing and constant as ever. What shall be said of these facts which are so numerous and so evident as to make an effort at classification and explanation imperative? Four answers to this inquiry are possible. Is the old doctrine of Guardian Angels true? Possibly we may be, individually, under the care of spiritual beings who are appointed for that service. That conviction often prevails, although so far as I have observed, not usually in association with perfect sanity. A man of noble bearing and grave and solemn manner who was talking about using the telephone for trans-Atlantic communication, once declared that all men living now are under the leadership of those who have gone, and that the great of other times are continuing their work through those now on earth. He added: "I am confident of my success for I am the representative in these days of Sir Isaac Newton." Subsequent events proved that Sir Isaac Newton must have lost most of his common sense since his departure from the earth, or he would have chosen a more rational representative. This theory in no way solves the problem before us, but rather complicates it, because it does not explain how the relation of souls is adjusted. That there may be some truth in this speculation may be freely granted. One text at least appears to give it a little confirmation: "Are not their angels ministering spirits sent forth to minister to such as shall be the heirs of salvation." That seems to teach that some who have never dwelt in earthly bodies are the appointed ministers of those who live on the earth. Many other persons dismiss this subject by saying that all souls, like all objects in nature and events in history, are parts of an everlasting and universal process, and that speculation is useless and a weariness to the flesh. That is the easiest way out of the difficulty, but it can be taken only by ignoring the facts. Are all ideas concerning spiritual ministry delusions? Then how shall we account for the imagination which is capable of giving birth to such magnificent dreams? And we may venture to ask also--Who started this movement in which we are all involved? How comes it that in this cosmic loom such a wondrous fabric is being woven, if there is no pattern, and no weaver, and will be no one to enjoy the work when it is finished? Possibly no one is warned against sin, impelled toward virtue, supported in sorrow, led into larger visions of truth; and, possibly, truth and right are also dreams, and the mind itself a delusion; and, possibly, there is nothing but delusion. Then all study and struggle are useless; let us go to sleep. But, some one else says, perhaps the phenomena of which you speak are, in one sense, realities but caused by reactions of the soul on itself. First it imagines that some spiritual leadership is desirable, and then it concludes that that leadership is discernible. In other words, sorrow, sin, relief, joy, truth, right, are only imaginations born of other imaginations. If any are satisfied with such reasoning the task of enlightening them is hopeless. There is another explanation of the sublime, ancient, and world-wide facts which are before us. It is the answer of Jesus, which is simple, profound, rational, and satisfying. He told His disciples, when they were grieving that they should see Him no more, that they would always have with them the Spirit of Truth who would convict of sin, show things to come, and lead into all truth. That Spirit in the Scriptures is called by one of the sweetest and dearest names in the languages of men--the Comforter. Some have wrongly imagined that the New Testament teaches that the presence of the Comforter is a new event in human history. Not so. The Spirit of Truth inspired and sustained the Apostles and Martyrs as He had sustained the Patriarchs and Prophets and the same Spirit which is represented as descending upon Jesus at His baptism brooded upon the face of the waters when the earth was without form and void. Jesus teaches that God, as a Spirit, has never been absent from His creation and never out of touch with the spirits of men. In the beginning He created; later He inspired, supported, taught, comforted; and always and everywhere He is present to sustain, to lead, to comfort, to help, to save, and to bless. How simple, rational, and satisfying is this interpretation of the phenomena of human history! We study our own spiritual experiences and discover that when we have been in danger of being contented with moral failure we have been made ashamed and disgusted by it; that when we have been on the verge of yielding to temptation we have been strangely and almost preternaturally protected; that when sorrows have come which would have crushed our unaided strength we have experienced strange peace and have had undreamed-of strength; and that never for a moment have we found rest or peace except as they have come to us in hand with truth and right. A wider study shows us that our experiences are in harmony with the common human experience. All forces and all events, in all ages, have been working for the welfare of individuals, society, the whole world. A steady, unfailing, universal attraction has been drawing the human race away from animalism, error, sorrow, war, separation and division, toward righteousness, truth, love, brotherhood, the life of the Spirit, and the unity and happiness of the children of God. That attraction is interpreted by Jesus in a simple and beautiful way. He has taught us that the same Being who created the universe, and who has revealed and is revealing Himself in creation, in history, and in the earthly ministry of the Christ, is now, always has been, and always will be in the most intimate, personal, and loving relations with men. He warns them against evil, protects them in danger, comforts them in sorrow, lifts their thoughts and desires toward the true, the beautiful, and the good; and what He is doing for individuals He is also doing for humanity and the universe. This is the culmination of the Christian Revelation. This is to be the consummation and splendor of the Kingdom of God. All the disciples of Jesus are followers of the Spirit of Truth. The Spirit of Truth is the inspiration of all that is vital and enduring in literature, art, government, society; and each individual, and "the whole cosmic process" are being led by Him toward the beatitude of the Children of God. NURTURE AND CULTURE O happy house! whose little ones are given Early to Thee, in faith and prayer,-- To Thee, their Friend, who from the heights of heaven Guards them with more than mother's care. O happy house! where little voices Their glad hosannas love to raise, And childhood's lisping tongue rejoices To bring new songs of love and praise. O happy house! and happy servitude! Where all alike one Master own; Where daily duty, in Thy strength pursued, Is never hard nor toilsome known; Where each one serves Thee, meek and lowly, Whatever thine appointments be, Till common tasks seem great and holy, When they are done as unto Thee. --_O Happy House._ Karl J.P. Spitta. IX _NURTURE AND CULTURE_ In the ascent of the soul two forces are ever at work: one is internal and the other external. The internal is that which promotes growth; it is resident within the soul, and, while it may be modified by conditions, it is in no sense dependent on them. But environment is a potent factor in all progress. Life necessitates growth, but environment determines the end toward which it will move. Environment in large part is composed of the circumstances into which we are born, of the spiritual companionship from which none can escape, and of the training which is provided by parents and friends. So much of the environment as is furnished by others we will call nurture, and those influences and instruments of advancement which the soul chooses for itself we will call culture. This discrimination is not entirely accurate, but it is sufficiently so for our present purpose. It at least indicates the lines along which our thought will move. According to this definition nurture has to do with that period of our existence when we are not able wisely to make choices for ourselves. It is for those persons who are in infancy and early youth, and also for those whose normal development has been thwarted or hindered. The influences of the home, and of the church so far as they are related to its younger members, are in the line of nurture rather than of culture. Culture, on the other hand, is something which a responsible being seeks for himself, to the end that his power may be increased and his faculties have harmonious development. The soul grows according to its innate tendencies; it is also subject to attractions from without. All souls are bound together; and all, whether they wish or not, vitally and permanently affect those by whom they are surrounded. Hence nurture and culture alike are both conscious and unconscious. The growth of the soul is largely affected by the nurture which it receives. This is usually provided for it by parents, or by those who take the places of the parents; and, where possible, their unwearying efforts should be to remove all obstacles from the pathway of their children, to surround them with a pure and helpful environment, and to provide them with such training as will make their progress inevitable and easy. The importance of wholesome domestic influences cannot be exaggerated. Their part in the formation of character is greater than that of all others, because they touch the powers and faculties of the child during those years in which it is most plastic. Neither the school nor the university can ever entirely counteract the effect of the home. The whole period of childhood is one in which the soul is under tutelage, and in which more is done for it by others than by itself. It can no more select its own environment than it could have chosen its parents, or the time and place of its birth. For a few years it is utterly dependent. The question as to how its growth may most wisely be promoted is, therefore, one of surpassing importance. The object of nurture is to provide an unhindered path along which the soul may move, to bring into full and free exercise all the powers which it possesses, and to secure for them development and harmony. To insure for each individual soul in the struggle of life a fair opportunity to be itself is the end of nurture. Emerson has said that at birth every child is loaded with bias, and that the purpose of culture is to remove all impediment and bias, and to secure a balance among the faculties so as to leave nothing but pure power. The same may be said as to the object of nurture. Since impediment and bias are never a part of the essence of the soul, the statement that the aim of nurture is to furnish a full and free opportunity for each individual to secure a normal development is, practically, identical with what Emerson has said of culture. What are the agencies which have most to do with promoting the ascent of the soul? The first is atmosphere. In a bright, clear, sunshiny atmosphere the body attains its most healthful growth. So with the soul. Atmosphere is one of those intangible things that every one understands and no one can easily define. It is composed of a thousand different elements. The atmosphere of a household is the spirit by which it is pervaded. Are all reverent, earnest, cheerful, optimistic? Do love and mutual helpfulness prevail? Do the members of the family live as if God were a near and blessed reality, and right and duty were more sacred than life? Then there will be an atmosphere of hopefulness, devotion, service, reverence, pure religion, which will affect all as sunlight and air, unconsciously but evidently, grow into the beauty and fruitfulness of meadows and gardens. The rare spirituality, the urbane manner, the exquisite regard for others, the dignity and deference which are found in some persons have no explanation except that they have been absorbed from the households in which their early lives were passed. Nurture is chiefly a matter of mental and spiritual atmosphere. Attraction is always stronger than compulsion. A child born into conditions in which love prevails, where truth, duty, honor, are reverenced, and where all dwelling together seek the highest things, will need neither instruction in morals nor motives in religion. It will naturally turn toward truth and righteousness. It will revere virtue and worship God as inevitably and spontaneously as it breathes. We are all influenced more by the words which we hear and the examples which we see than by the lessons given us to learn, by the spirit of a man, or an institution, rather than by rules. Persons show the conditions in which they have been reared by their choice of words, their bearing, the subjects of their conversation, by their mental and spiritual attitude. Reverence is seldom found except in an atmosphere of reverence, and sincerity grows among those who are sincere. It is a moral necessity that some men should be earnest and enthusiastic, and impossible for their neighbors to be other than cringing and mean. The largest element in environment is atmosphere, and in the development of character environment is quite as potent as heredity. Indeed, in the sphere of the spirit, as in that of the body, heredity is always modified by environment. The chief factor in nurture, therefore, is atmosphere. If that is healthful, growth will be toward beauty and strength; if that is malarial, no antiseptic force but the grace of God will be able to counteract its influence. Next to atmosphere as an element in nurture I place ideals. For these children are usually dependent on their elders. They reverence what they are taught to revere. Ideals are placed before them by example and by precept. Children grow like those whose deeds attract them, and they seek those ideals toward which they are most wisely directed. Laws are never as potent in the formation of character as examples. Men are made brave by the sight of bravery, and honorable by contact with those who will swear to their own hurt and change not. There is deep philosophy in the saying that the songs of a people influence their institutions and history more than legal enactments, for songs are usually of bravery, of love, of victory. They create ideals; they excite enthusiasm. The Marseillaise and The Watch on the Rhine send thrills through the blood of those who hear them because in the most vivid way they suggest patriotism and heroism. A good man inspires goodness. Philanthropy makes others philanthropic. One courageous act sometimes makes heroes of a hundred common men. If a father would have his son physically brave, and he is a wise parent, he will not waste time in urging him to undertake some forlorn hope, but he will read to him the story of the Greeks at Thermopylæ, of Marshal Ney at Waterloo, of Nathan Hale and his holy martyrdom, of Nelson at Trafalgar. If he would have that son a helper and servant of his fellow-men he will tell him the story of Pastor Fliedner and his work at Kaiserwerth, of Florence Nightingale at the Crimea, of Wilberforce and Buxton, Whittier and Garrison in their efforts to awaken their fellow-men to the enormity of human slavery. The strongest force for making a young man brave and generous, honorable and Christian, is the example of a father possessing such qualities. Men are usually like their ideals, and their ideals in large part are created by the examples of those who are most admired and loved. But example is not all. Training also does much. Conduct is but the expression of thought. If one can determine what shall be the subject of another's thinking, he will have gone a long way toward fixing his character. This is a fact which deserves more attention than it has yet received in plans for the education of the people. Parents have no holier privilege than that of directing the thought of their children. By their own conversation, by the friends whom they invite to their homes, by the books which are given a place on their tables, by the amusements to which they take their families, they determine for them the channels in which their minds shall run. As a man thinketh in his heart so is he. Boys usually dwell upon the same subjects as their fathers, unless the fathers by skilful conversation are able to hide the subjects to which they give most time. Children usually admire what their parents admire, and shun what they shun. The organic unity of the household is a large factor in individual and social progress. Both by direct effort, and by the indirect operation of example, it furnishes subjects for the youthful mind. The personality, whose seat is in the will, is never determined, but it is very largely influenced both by the example of those who are admired and by the thoughts which they suggest. Environment in large part is composed of atmosphere, example, and ideals. All these are provided for the growing child by others. He has little or no voice in saying what they shall be. And environment has more to do with the progress of the soul toward full and free self-expression even than what is called education. Education is more by atmosphere, example, and mental suggestion than by teachers and text-books. When we speak of nurture we usually think of the period of discipline in school and church; but we often make the mistake of not taking into account the fact that the most effective training is seldom that which comes directly from teachers. It is rather that which is derived indirectly from the atmosphere, example, and ideals by which the child is surrounded in his home. If I could determine those for a child I should dread very little any malign force in the shape of an incompetent teacher. Schools, in reality, are only for the unfinished work of the homes. They may make the child better than his home, and they may undo the good work which it has done; but, usually, what the home is the child will be some time. The agencies of nurture, by which a soul is helped on its upward pathway, are atmosphere, example, ideals, and direct training. Of these the least important is the last, although the value of that is self-evident. By the intellectual and spiritual air that we breathe, by the sight of heroic and consecrated service, by the possibilities of noble achievement the best that is in a man or a boy is usually drawn out. Afterward the teacher may take him in hand and, by training, remove the impediment and bias and thus make a balance in the faculties, or take out of his way the obstacles which oppose his progress; but he seldom does very much toward determining the direction in which the child will move. That is decided by others in the years which are most plastic. The soul naturally, and inevitably, grows toward truth and God. How could it be otherwise, since its being is derived from Him? But a part of the mystery of growth is the influence of environment, and early environment is almost altogether composed of the circumstances and influences into which one is born. The question of nurture, therefore, is of vital importance. What shall one generation do for those which are to come after it? Each soul may hinder or help the growth of countless other souls. The influence of those nearest is always most potent for good or ill. Impediment is increased, and bias exaggerated, by evil example. The effort to rise becomes easy when the way is seen to be full of those whom we love and honor going before us toward the heights, and it is difficult when no familiar face is seen. Nurture is not so much a matter of teacher and text-book, of church and catechism, as of atmosphere, example, and inspiration. It is the effect of the contact of one pure and noble soul upon another; it is something which father, mother, and friends give to the child; it is the result of the spirit in which they impart instruction and of the reverence and consecration which shine from their lives. The best and only enduring nurture is that of a sweet, serene, optimistic, and thoroughly Christian environment. With that, inherited tendencies toward weakness and evil will go of themselves,--indeed will seem never to have had existence. But all too soon the time comes in which the soul faces its own responsibility, and realizes that it must choose for itself what its course shall be. It has learned, if it has observed, that there is ever with it an unseen leadership, and it has heard, faint and far, the call of a noble destiny. What shall it now do for itself? Shall it choose simply to exist? Shall it yield to the limitations and solicitations of the body? or, shall it seek to prepare itself by discipline, and the cultivation of right choices, for the goal whose intimations it has heard? Nurture, if it has been wise, has been the forerunner of culture. Atmosphere and example have inspired lofty ideals, but those ideals, if they are to be realized, will require training. Matthew Arnold, quoting Bishop Wilson, has said that culture "is a study of perfection." In other words, it is the means which are used for the perfection of the soul. Shall we choose to leave ourselves to grow like trees in a forest, however they may, or shall we seek those conditions which will make progress sure and swift? Culture is always a matter of choice; and it is vastly more than anything which can be taught in the college or university. The cultured man is he who has learned so to use the forces and conditions of life as to make them minister to his perfection. The one most cultured may come out of a factory, and the man of least culture may be found in a university. Indeed colleges and universities, not infrequently, are haunts of provincialism and of dread of enthusiasm. The object of culture is the perfection of the spirit to the end that all that hinders, or limits, may disappear and only pure power, clear vision, and full self-realization remain. Those whose growth is most evident are ever eager to use all experiences as means of progress. They study books in order that they may better understand what others have thought concerning the mystery of existence; they discipline their minds in order that they may the better serve their fellow-men; they seek fineness of manner and beauty of expression to the end that their utterance of truth may be more persuasive and convincing. Culture and the discipline of life are identical. Consequently, the wise man chooses to put himself where he will best be taught by the events through which he passes, by what he sees, and by what he may learn from others. It matters little who have been the teachers, or what have been the schools,--the real teacher is always life, and the real university is the human experience. I do not make light of the benefit which may be derived from books and institutions of learning, but I do insist on the recognition of the deeper fact that the lessons which no one can afford to neglect are those which can be taught only by overcoming obstacles. We can learn how to live only in the school of life. The most vital books are always those which tell us what others have done, and of the paths by which they have been led to power. What shall the soul do for itself in order that it may promote its own growth? It must first recognize where the sources of knowledge and strength are to be found, and then put itself where it will feel the touch of the vitality which can come only from other souls. Quickly enough every man reaches the time in which he may determine his own environment. When we are young others choose our circumstances for us, but when we become older we select them for ourselves. That means much. No monarch is mighty enough to compel me to associate with those who will hinder my progress. He only is a slave whose mind and will are in bondage. My body may be with boors but, at the same time, my spirit may be holding companionship with seers and sages. I may be compelled to work in a mine like John the Apostle, but I, too, like him may hear One speaking whose voice is as the sound of many waters, and whose eyes are like a flame of fire. Our real associates are ever our spiritual companions; and no one can force another to hold fellowship with those who are either intellectually or spiritually uncongenial. And we also select our own subjects of thought. Who can govern the thinking of another? At the very moment when one, who is stronger, is rejoicing in what seems his supremacy, our thoughts may be ranging through the spaces, and finding companionships among the stars. And we choose our own examples. In youth they were put before us according to the will of others, but later our heroes come to us at our bidding, and no one can shut the gates against them. Whom shall we admire? Let them be men of the spirit, who have sought truth and hated lies, "who have fought their doubts and gathered strength," who would rather suffer wrong than do wrong. The perfection of being is the end of effort, therefore we will read what will best help our growth in vision, in moral earnestness, in spiritual sensibility; therefore our books shall treat of subjects which will ennoble; our amusements shall be pure and clean; and our chief companionships shall be with the prophets and masters, the noble and the good, because by associating with them we shall become like them. Intellectual acuteness, mastery of faculty, elegance of expression, are something very different from insight into the meaning of life. The cultured man is he who has learned his relations to his fellow-men, who recognizes his obligations toward them; and his relations to the unseen and his duty toward it. Discipline which will produce such results will ever be sought by the awakened soul. It will be satisfied with nothing less. The relation of nurture and culture to the ascent of the soul is now evident. Both are the agencies by which all impediment and bias are to be removed, and by which the soul is to come to the realization of pure power. They are the means by which complete self-realization is to be attained; they are the study of perfection. Nurture is what is done for the soul by parents and friends in its plastic years; culture is the means which the soul chooses in order that its growth may be hastened. Nurture is chiefly promoted by lofty examples, noble ideals,--in short, by beneficent environment; but culture is attained by the conscious effort of the individual, by his own choice of healthful environment, worthy example, inspiring companionships, and, perhaps still more, by long and patient study of the facts of our mortal life, of the revelations which have come from the unseen, and of the prophecies of the future which are within the soul. There is a deep and almost terrible significance in the text, "No man liveth to himself." Every person is independent and free and yet is bound to every other. Most delicate and vital of all human relations is that of parent and child. How far one may be responsible for the other may be difficult to decide, but that the one influences the other, inevitably and forever, is beyond question. In many ways the child is what he is made by the parent. Therefore the welfare of the child as a spirit, and not merely as a body, should be a continual study. He who has dared to become a parent can never honorably shirk the duty of nurture. The connection between souls is a great mystery, but the mystery does not lessen the obligation. We are responsible not only for the existence of our children, but equally for their growth. It is the parent's privilege to make sure that they start on the journey of life properly equipped, and with no undue obstacles in their pathway--to make them realize that they are not only his children but also children of God; and that they are to live not only in time but in eternity. The training of the body is needful, and that of the mind still more so, but that of the spirit is absolutely essential to its welfare. Therefore plans and provisions for nurture first, last, and always should be to the end that the soul may realize that it is from God, and that its goal and glory are union with Him. And those who realize that they are free, that they are in a moral order, that a noble destiny awaits them, should make everything in thought, in study, in association, in companionship, bend toward the perfection of being, the development of power, and the realization of the life of the spirit. Nurture does much for every man, his parents and friends also do much but, at last, when all mysteries are disclosed and self-revelation is complete, it may be found that each one does quite as much for himself as any one else, or every one else, does for him. IS DEATH THE END? It's wiser being good than bad; It's safer being meek than fierce; It's fitter being sane than mad. My own hope is, a sun will pierce The thickest cloud earth ever stretched; That after Last, returns the First, Though a wide compass round be fetched; That what began best, can't end worst, Nor what God blessed once, prove accurst. --_Apparent Failure._ Browning. X _IS DEATH THE END?_ We have been studying the ascent of the soul in the successive stages of its development, from the dawn of consciousness to the measure of progress which our race has now attained. But a dark shadow falls across that history. No one has yet lived who has reached what all have believed to be the fullness of his possible development. At a certain period in physical history what we call death intervenes, and we are left wondering as to whether that is the end of all, or whether the soul persists and continues its advance unhindered by bodily limitations. That death is the end of the body, in its present form, no one doubts; but whether the relations of the soul to the body are so intimate and enduring that what vitally affects one affects the other is a subject concerning which there has been eager and constant inquiry, and but little real knowledge. Job's question, "If a man die shall he live again?" is the common question of humanity. The importance of the subject is attested by the prominence which it has always had in human thought. Philosophers have given it foremost place in their speculations. Science, while seeking to explore every part of the physical universe, never escapes from the fascination of this question. Is the death of the body the end of the spirit? Or, if we have not sufficient material for a positive statement, is there enough to make a strong affirmation of probability? We are facing the deepest mystery which is ever presented to thinking men. Heretofore we have been trying to follow a history clearly marked in the progress of humanity; now we can only balance probabilities. But all that has been learned concerning the nature and development of the spirit of man not only warrants, but compels, the belief that death is not the end of the soul; and that to assert that it is, is to deny the revelations of the universe, and to insist that there is nothing but irony and mockery where there ought to be reason and wisdom. In treating this subject I can but repeat thoughts which have been emphasized again and again; but it is so vital, and so near to the welfare of all, that old arguments become new, and interest in them increases, the more frequently they are emphasized. On what do we base our faith that the soul exists after death? That it does is clearly the faith not only of religious teachers but of many of the latest and most eminent scientists. Many expounders of evolutionary philosophy unite in telling us that "the cosmic process" having reached man, a spiritual being, can go no further in the physical order; that evolution will never produce a higher being than a spirit, but that the "cosmic" force will still persist and be utilized in the expansion and perfection of spirits. In treating this subject little attention will be given to the scriptural argument, for there is little if any difference of opinion concerning the teaching of Jesus and that of the writers of the New Testament. They are united and consistent in assuming the persistence of being. That belief underlies all their appeals to the solemn sanctions of the moral law which they derived from the future life. Jesus himself said, "If it were not so, I would have told you;" and nearly, if not quite all the Apostles base their warnings and their invitations on motives which reach beyond the death of the body. The masters of other religions have been equally positive. In some form or other they have asserted the continued existence of the spiritual nature in man. But we turn, for the moment, from these and consider such evidence as may be derived from the soul itself, and from what is known of its progress. There is no evidence that when the body dies the soul dies with it. It may not be possible to prove the reverse; all that we know is that the vital functions cease, and that the body decays. No eye ever saw the soul, and no dissection ever discovered the place of its dwelling. Is that ethereal something which we call soul simply the result of the organization of atoms? Or is the body like a house in which a spiritual tenant dwells? At least this may be affirmed: No one has yet been able to prove that the soul and body die together. Then there is no reasonable presumption against the continuance of being. No spirit, so far as we know, has returned to the earth in visible form, and spoken its message; and yet, for aught we know, we may be surrounded every day by spiritual beings, moving unseen along the avenues upon which we walk, and entering without invitation the houses which we inhabit. At this point it is enough simply to grant that presumptions are, perhaps, evenly balanced. If one asks for proof that the spirit persists, the only reply must be a Socratic one--Can you prove that it is vitally connected with the body? Belief in the existence of the soul after death seems to be an innate belief. It has been ascribed to the influence of the superstition about ghosts; but that superstition is only an unscientific form of the larger faith in the persistence of being. Where did this conviction originate? We think only of such things as have been experienced. No thought is ever entirely original. Even imagination cannot create anything absolutely unlike anything which ever existed. All the fabled beings who, according to the ancient mythology, filled the spaces and waters, were but human creatures adapted to imaginary environments. Faith in the existence of the soul after death could not have originated in the soul itself; to believe that would be to contradict the laws of thought. It seems to have been born with the soul, and yet not to be a part of it. The common conviction of continuance of being can be explained only on the assumption that it is an innate idea. That this assumption starts, perhaps, quite as many questions as it settles may be granted. Nevertheless, it is the only way in which this fact in mental and spiritual history can be accounted for. Not only is belief in persistence of being innate, but it is also universal. It has been found in every land, in every time, in every religion. Dr. Matthewson has finely argued that the savage worships a fetish because he is seeking something which does not change[8]. He knows that he dies; he worships that which he thinks does not die. A piece of wood or a stone, at first, seems to him more enduring than a man; therefore he worships the fetish. Gradually his eyes are opened and he realizes that the man is more enduring than the thing. Then the object of his worship is lifted from something material to a spiritual being. The belief in immortality is coterminous with belief in the Deity; the two forms of faith are always found together. The cultured Greek, the mystic Egyptian, the idealistic Indian, the savage who inhabits the forests of Africa, or who formerly dwelt in the forests of America, alike have believed in some land of spirits to which their loved ones have gone and to which they themselves, in turn, will also go. Every age and every time, alike, have borne witness to the strength and vitality of this faith. [Footnote 8: Distinctive Messages of the Old Religions, p. 9.] But still more convincing to me than any of the suggestions which have gone before, is the fact that it is irrational to suppose that the soul dies with the body. If that were true, how could we account for the enormous waste in discipline and culture, in education and affection? What is the meaning of the love that binds human beings together, if after a short "three-score-and-ten career" it utterly ceases to be, and being and affection alike go into oblivion? How can our systems of education be justified, if the soul is perfected only to be destroyed? On everything else man spends time, labor, affection in proportion to the possibility of its endurance. He never seeks that which he knows will be taken from him and destroyed as soon as it is perfected. An artist would not spend a lifetime on a picture, or a sculptor in finishing a statue, if he knew that when his work was completed it would be instantly sunk in the depths of the sea. We devote a large part of our lives to education; we cultivate our minds; our affections are disciplined; we spend time, money, labor for years for the culture of our children; can it be that all this preparation is for something which never can be realized? In the midst of the loftiest manifestations of the soul's power the body ceases to be. With indescribable bravery a warrior lays down his life, a fireman rescues a child from a burning building, a life-boatman goes through the surf to a sinking ship, and, at that very moment when he proves himself best fitted to live, death comes and he is seen no more. It cannot be proven that this is not the end, but it is not reasonable to believe that this is the end. If it is, human life is utterly without significance, and he is most to be commended who quickest escapes from its misery and mockery. Moreover the inequalities of the human condition are strangely prophetic. Much has been made of this argument in the past,--Job and Socrates both felt its force. The value of it has often been discredited, but without reason. How shall the bitter injustice which is frequently found on the earth be explained? Some have an abundance of wealth, some have literally nothing. Some enjoy the best of health and strength all their days, while others pass their years in suffering and trial. Some are surrounded by families and fairly revel in love and friendship, and others lead lonely lives toward a welcome end. Some are strong and brave, and able to act a part in the drama of life; others are weak, obscure, unknown, and, for aught that they or we can see, might as well have never been. The law of heredity sweeps down from the past and brings a terrible legacy to many who spend all their days in trying to escape from what has been forced upon them. What shall we say concerning those who are born in lust and must live in the midst of the vice of a great city, and who, in turn, give birth to a lustful and vicious brood? Have they had a fair chance? Will their children have? Such questions have puzzled the most earnest thinkers of all time, and there has seemed to be but one explanation. Job seemed to be in darkness, until at last there flashed upon his mind this question, which is also a modified affirmation, "If a man die shall he live again?" If he live again, then it is possible that what seems to be unjust may be righted; and those who have known only suffering and pain during their dwelling in the flesh, may some time enter into the fruition of their discipline in the joy and victory of the endless life. The more this argument is pondered the stronger its force becomes. It carries conviction to all who are deeply sensitive to the common human experience, and who at all understand the misery and the suffering of human existence. One in the fullness of his physical strength may think little about it, but that deformed girl who asked her mother after service one Easter Day, "Mother, is it true that in heaven I shall be as straight as you and father?" is a type of millions of others. Some suffer in body and some in mind; some have a heredity of insanity or vice--they are born with shackles on their faculties. If they ever have a fair chance to grow noble and beautiful, morally and spiritually, it must be after their bodies have been laid aside. It cannot be said that they do not now desire benefit and blessing, but it is evident that it is impossible for their longing to be gratified. The conviction that this is a moral and rational universe compels us to believe that some time and somewhere those who suffer will escape from their pain, that those who are burdened with the evil that has been inherited from past generations will rise above it, and that the soul will be given an unhindered opportunity for growth and advancement. The inequalities in the human condition almost compel us to believe that the death of the body cannot be the end of the spirit. A little light on this subject comes from the faith of the world's greatest teachers. As there are, now and then, those who see farther than others with the physical eye, so there have been a few teachers who have been rightly called seers, because their eyes have penetrated farther into the mysteries of the universe than have those of their fellow-men. Among the seers of the ages, I think that the two whom all would recognize as being preëminent are Socrates and Jesus--the one the finest flower of the intellectual development of Greece, and the other the consummation of the hopes and visions of the most spiritual people that the world has ever known. Both Socrates and Jesus believed in God, and both have taught the world, with no uncertain sound, of their faith in immortal life. The latter was clearly an axiom with Jesus, for He said to His disciples in effect, "If there had been any question about it I would have told you;" and almost with his last breath Socrates compelled his disciples to think of him as immortal, for he told them that, though his body might be buried anywhere, he defied both friend and foe to catch his soul. Socrates and Jesus represent the belief of the world's greatest seers. The deep and abiding confidence of the teachers, who increasingly command our admiration as the years go by, is not to be entirely disregarded. We may care little what those tell us who walk by our sides in the dark valleys or on the dusty plains; but there are others who have climbed to the crests of the loftiest mountains, and who have looked into a world of which we have only dreamed. When they come down we listen because we know that they have had visions. Even so it is in our intellectual life. A few men have risen above the common levels of humanity, as the Alps above the plains of Lombardy. They have spoken concerning what they have seen. They have had glimpses of God--the soul of the universe, and of the persistence of individuals in the realm that lies beyond the grave. I might not let my faith be determined by their testimony alone, but when what they say is confirmed by many other voices speaking in the soul, and sounding through the history of the world, it is easy to believe that they have spoken of things which have been revealed to them. Another confirmation of our conviction of the reality of life after death may be stated as follows: It is not possible for us to think of the heroes and singers of the ages as having less endurance than the words which they have uttered and the deeds which they have performed. Milton's and Shakespeare's bodies have long been dead. The great dramatist has recorded a dire curse on any one who should move his bones. In the chancel of the Church of the Holy Trinity at Stratford-on-Avon those bones are supposed to rest. But the plays that Shakespeare wrote are still the wonder of the world, and the glory of the English race. Is it possible to believe that the man was less enduring than his work? Is it possible to believe that Shakespeare's plays and Milton's epic will exist, perhaps, for a thousand years, while the dramatist himself has utterly ceased to be? You open a neglected drawer of your desk and come suddenly upon a letter written by a friend of half a century ago; the paper is a little soiled, but as firm as ever; the ink is hardly faded; the words are all clearly formed and full of inspiration; and you hold that letter in your hand and ask yourself, "Was the man who penned these lines less enduring than the paper on which he wrote, or than the ink with which he wrote?" Such questions are not arguments, and yet they have the force of arguments. It is not possible in our better moments to feel that the great and good, by whom this world has been lifted to its present condition, have gone entirely into nothingness. It was said of our Lord, "It was not possible that such a man should be holden of death." And it is not possible for us to believe, in our inmost souls, that those who become a part of our being, whose love is of more value to us than our own lives, whose memory is the dearest treasure that we possess, by some accident, a taint in the food or the water, can utterly pass from existence. If it were possible to believe that, then the most miserable creature on the earth would be man, for he would know of his greatness, and know also that his greatness is a mockery and a sham. In hours of doubt, let us lean hard upon the question, "Is it possible that those with whom we have walked and worked, conversed and communed, and by whom we have been helped and blessed, should forever cease to be, while the houses in which they live, and the tools with which they labor, will endure for generations?" The soul is full of prophecies. Only as there may be continuance of being can these prophecies have fulfillment. The feeling of dependence, the desires for friendship which are never satisfied, the powers of body and of mind which are capable of a development which they never receive on earth, are prophecies of a life beyond death. Not the least among the reasons for our belief that death is not the end of the soul is the fact that the soul itself is a prophecy of its own immortality. It is always best to believe the best. This world and human life may be interpreted on the materialistic hypothesis; then matter is all and death is the gloomy _finale_ to the tragedy of existence. Or they may be interpreted according to the spiritual hypothesis; then within the body dwells the spirit; then the latter is but a tenant of the former. If the house is destroyed the tenant goes elsewhere. If we interpret the world, and human life, according to the materialistic theory all the beauty and joy of existence on the earth will disappear. We will then live for a little time; and our loves, our disciplines, and our victories alike will be only delusions soon to be mercifully ended by death. Possibly that is true; but, if it is true, then this universe is the embodiment of the most dismal, desolate, and diabolical thought that it is possible for a human being to conceive. On the spiritual hypothesis all experiences are intended for the perfection of the soul. Bodily limitations, physical sufferings, animal solicitations, may all be used so as to promote the development and perfection of the spirit. When the body can do no more the soul will emerge purified and strengthened by contact with that which is physical. It will then move from the narrow quarters in which it has dwelt into some larger and fairer room in the great palace of God. Once more, I confess, we cannot demonstrate the truth of this faith, but it is always best for ourselves and for the world to believe the best. With this faith human life is nobler, and human effort more persistent and enduring than it would be without it. At the end "the finished product" will be larger, and more perfect, if there is something to strive for than if hope is destroyed the moment that aspiration is born. I should be willing to rest my faith in immortality upon this one argument. A rational being should be satisfied only with a rational answer to his questions; a moral being should be satisfied only with a moral solution of his problems. This universe is neither rational nor moral if the soul ceases to be at the death of the body. On the other hand, if the soul passes into another and ampler sphere all the mysteries are explained, and there is meaning even in the darkest passages of human experience. All things work together for good to those who are willing to be led toward the higher things. These are some of the reasons, with which all thinking persons are familiar, for believing that the soul continues its growth after the body has been laid aside. Evolution has opened a new vista in human thought. There had been vague suggestions of it before, but evolution has done much to confirm faith by its clear and strong testimony. It prophesies the eternal growth of the spirit. These prophecies are harmonious with those of the soul, and with the positive teachings of the Christian revelation. This then is our conclusion:--in the process of time, in accordance with natural law, our bodies will be laid aside, some in one way and some in another, but the soul that has dwelt in these bodies will become free. In ways of which we know not, and of which it would be presumption to speak, its perfecting will be continued. What teachers will take it in hand then is beyond our knowledge; but we are confident that its individual existence will continue, that its perfection will be along moral and spiritual lines, that it will grow forever and forever in intelligence, in love, in the power of rational choice, and into harmony with Him from whom it has come and whose glory will be its perfection. To believe less would be to refuse to listen to the voices which speak within and the voices which speak without,--it would be to believe in an irrational and immoral universe rather than a rational and moral one. Our souls have a right to be heard, and their prophecies have in them an element of certainty. He who listens to the voices which speak within will never believe that the death of the body is the end of his personal being. The suggestion of a state of existence from which sin, sorrow, and death shall be forever absent, into which there shall enter nothing that maketh a lie, and where sacrificial love is the everlasting light, is the highest and most satisfying ideal for human life that has ever been spoken or imagined; and that which completely satisfies the heart cannot at the same time be repudiated by the intellect. Let us, therefore, reverently confess that we believe in "the life everlasting." PRAYERS FOR THE DEAD Thy voice is on the rolling air; I hear thee where the waters run; Thou standest in the rising sun, And in the setting thou art fair. What art thou then? I cannot guess; But tho' I seem in star and flower To feel thee some diffusive power, I do not therefore love thee less: My love involves the love before; My love is vaster passion now; Tho' mixed with God and Nature thou, I seem to love thee more and more. Far off thou art, but ever nigh; I have thee still, and I rejoice; I prosper, circled with thy voice; I shall not lose thee tho' I die. --_In Memoriam._ Tennyson. XI _PRAYERS FOR THE DEAD_ The wisest of men have little to guide them when they approach that mysterious realm from which no traveler has ever returned. With humility and the consciousness that we must, at the best, walk in the twilight, I take up one of the most mysterious and fascinating of themes. No one has any right to speak positively on such a subject, and I shall not do so. Those who have the assurance of sight when they write about what lies beyond the grave are both to be envied and to be pitied,--envied because of their confidence, pitied because they may be self-deceived. Let me make my exact purpose as plain as I can by an illustration. A dear friend, one with whom you have associated for years, enters the silent life. The morning following, as has long been your custom, you offer your prayers to the Heavenly Father, and, as usual, mention that friend by name. Suddenly you stop and say to yourself, "I can no more offer that petition, for my friend is now beyond the need of my poor prayers." Then, suddenly and swiftly, come the questions, Although my friend is called dead is he any less alive than when he was in the body? Will not all that constituted his personality continue to grow in the future as in the past? Does the death of the body do anything more than change the mode of the spirit's existence? And the result is that you say to yourself, "I will continue to pray for my friend, for, if he is alive now, every reason which led to prayers before his death justifies their continuance." From more than one person I have heard words similar to these which I have put into this hypothetical form; and because of these expressions of sane and sacred experience I am led to ask my readers to follow me in the consideration of a subject which is seldom mentioned, except with incredulity, by most Protestants. No one who may not appreciate the importance of this subject should be either troubled or heedless. We learn our lessons concerning the profounder mysteries simply by living. No one can be blamed for not appreciating what he is not yet, either intellectually or spiritually, ready to receive. Providence takes good care of us. When we are prepared for the reception of any truth it usually finds us. This subject has been regarded with suspicion by two classes of thinkers: Protestants who have revolted from the extent to which praying for the dead has been carried in the Roman Catholic Church, and the much smaller number who hold what they delight in affirming is "the true theology," and who have insisted that when men die their state is irrevocably and forever fixed, the good going at once into the perfect bliss of heaven and the wicked into the suffering of hell. It will be more profitable for us to deal with the positive side of our subject than to attempt to clear away misconceptions and half truths. What is meant by prayers for the dead? Exactly the same as prayers for those in the body. When the body dies the soul, or the essential man, is not touched by death. The personality is that which thinks, chooses, lives. Your mother is not the form on which your eyes rested, or the arms which encircled you, but the thought, the devotion, the affection concealed, yet revealed, by the body, and which use it for their instrument. In reality we never saw our dearest friends; what we saw was color, form, but never the spirit. That is disclosed through the body, but is not identified with it. Now just as we have prayed for a mother, or a child, or a friend whose physical form is familiar, but whose personality we have seen only in its revelations, so we continue to pray for that loved one which we do not see any more, or any less, after what is called death. In other words, instead of thinking of any as dead, we think of all as alive, although many of them are in the unseen sphere. Love and sympathy have never been dependent on the body except for expression, and there is no evidence that they ever will be. Sympathy and affection, thought and will, are matters of spirit; and why may not spirit feel for spirit and minister to spirit, when the body is laid aside? Your hands, your feet, your lips did not pray for your child; your spirit prayed for his spirit, and now that his body is laid aside, like a worn-out garment, you may keep on doing just what you did before. This is what is meant by prayers for the dead. I am well aware that it may seem to some that these statements rest largely on assumptions, but they are not baseless assumptions. One other assumption must be made before we can proceed in our study, and that one is the truthfulness of the Christian teaching that death is not cessation of being, but only the decay of the bodily organism. How may prayers for the dead be justified? Are they taught as a duty in the Scriptures? The privilege rests not so much on particular exhortations as upon the whole Christian teaching concerning immortality. God is the God of the living. Bishop Pearson in his exposition of the Apostles' Creed has an impressive passage, which I quote: "The communion of saints in the Church of Christ with those who are departed is demonstrated by their communion with the saints alive. For if I have a communion with a saint of God, as such, while he liveth here, I must still have communion with him when he is departed hence; because the foundation of that communion cannot be removed by death. The mystical union between Christ and His Church ... is the true foundation of that communion.... But death, which is nothing else but the separation of the soul from the body, maketh no separation in the mystical union, no breach of the spiritual conjunction, and consequently there must be the same communion, because there remaineth the same foundation."[9] [Footnote 9: Quoted in Welldon's "Hope of Immortality," page 332.] Jesus taught that death is but a change of the form of existence. On the Mount of Transfiguration Moses and Elijah appeared alive, and as interested in human affairs. If death is not cessation of being, but only a change in the form of its manifestation, why should we think that human sympathy ends when breathing ceases, and why should we conclude that mutual service may be rendered impossible by "a snake's bite or a falling tile." Tennyson in "In Memoriam" gives the Christian doctrine exquisite expression, "Eternal form shall still divide The eternal soul from all beside; And I shall know him when we meet." Jesus teaches the reality of immortality He represents those gone from us as not dead but as still living and still interested in human affairs. If His teaching is true, is it not as reasonable to try to serve those of our loved ones who are out of the body as those who are in the body? So far as we can see, the only way in which we can serve them is by prayer, although they may, possibly, minister to us in other ways. If immortal existence means the possibility of unceasing growth, then every reason which prompts prayer for those who are bodily present remains a motive when they have entered the state which is purely spiritual. But what efficacy will prayers for the dead have? My answer is two-fold. All the efficacy that prayer ever has. If death is relative only to a single state of existence, and if those whom we call dead are living, and still free agents, then they may still choose good and evil, and they may still grow toward virtue. Choice always implies a possibility of freedom; and freedom is a necessity when there is moral responsibility. If prayer helps any one, why not those who have passed from our sight? Surely we must believe them still to possess the power of choice and, therefore, that of choosing evil as well as good. You ask why pray at all. My answer is simple and free from all attempts at casuistry: simply because we must. Prayer is not so much a Christian doctrine as a human necessity. It is as natural as breathing. By prayer I mean not only spoken petitions but, equally, the longing and pleading of the soul, either blindly or intelligently, for things which are beyond our reach, and which only a higher Power can provide. Those longings may have formal expression, and they may not. Prayer so far as it is petition is the soul pleading with the Unseen for what it deeply desires. I do not suppose that God needs light from any mortal man, but all men do need many things from Him, and, as naturally as children present their desires to earthly parents, even though they know them to be already favorable, we go with our deeper needs to our Heavenly Father. Much time has been wasted in trying to formulate a rational basis for prayer. When a child in the smaller family no longer asks his father to accede to his wishes, when he no more pleads with his father for his brother or his sister, then it will be time enough to inquire if, in the larger family which we call humanity, we may do without prayer. Until then let us believe, "More things are wrought by prayer Than this world dreams of." Leaving now the apologetic side of the subject, which is alluring, we observe one evident blessing which always attends praying for the dead. It keeps ever before our minds the thought that they are actually alive. It makes the doctrine of the communion of saints a sacred reality. If I may in this essay be allowed to assume a hortatory tone I will say, if you have been in the habit of praying for your friend, do not give it up simply because he has ceased to breathe. As regularly as ever continue to pray for him, and he will be to you more than a memory. What would have been but an occasional remembrance will then be a daily communion; and what would have been only formal praying to God will be an hour, or a moment, of association with those who will grow nearer and dearer, and not farther and vaguer, with the passing years. The hour of devotion will thus be hallowed, because it will be a holy tryst with absent friends, as well as a time for making our requests known to our Heavenly Father. Who can exaggerate the delight and benefit of such an exercise? What sources of strength are to be found in spiritual association with our beloved! If we are thus helped why should we presume that they may not also, by such sweet hours, be strengthened for their duties? I know this may seem fanciful. I ask no one to follow me who is not ready to do so. I do not speak dogmatically, but with great earnestness, when I say that prayer for our beloved after they are gone is a privilege and a help--I would fain believe both to them and to us. But it may be objected that the moral state of men is fixed at death, and that nothing that we or they can do can influence it by a hair's breadth. That this has been a popular opinion is true; and it is equally true that many have supposed that all who have had faith on the earth are in bliss; and that all who have been without faith are in misery; and that the beatitude of all the good is equal and alike, and that the misery of all unbelievers is the same. Such inferences, though held by many for whose scholarship and character I have profound reverence, seem to me to be contrary to Scripture, to the analogies of nature, and to the moral sense. Such a theory is contrary to Christian Scriptures; for the parable of the talents shows that some will have greater and some lesser reward; and the parable of Dives and Lazarus has relation only to Hades, or to the state which in the thought of that time intervened between death and the judgment. This theory is contrary to the analogies of life on earth. Here change indicates not a finality but a new opportunity. Every crisis of life is an opening into a newer and larger world. Why should we say that what we call death, alone of all the changes through which we pass, leads to that which is unchangeable? The theory is contrary to the moral sense of all earnest souls. Who does not have to compel himself to believe, and that with difficulty, that death determines forever the fate of all, and that there is neither possibility of progress nor of going backward after the body is laid aside? Let me quote a noble passage from Bishop Welldon: "But if a variety of destinies in the unseen world, whether of happiness or of suffering, is reserved for mankind, and yet more, if the principle of that world is not inactivity but energy or character or life, it is reasonable to believe that the souls which enter upon the future state with the taint of sin clinging to them, in whatever form or degree, will be slowly cleansed by a disciplinary or purifactory process from whatever it is that, being evil in itself, necessarily obstructs or obscures the vision of God." He continues, "And this is the benediction of human nature, to feel that, as souls upon earth are fortified and elevated by the prayers offered for them in the unseen world, so too by our prayers may the souls which have passed behind the veil be lifted higher and higher into the knowledge and contemplation and fruition of God."[10] [Footnote 10: The Hope of Immortality, page 337.] We do not know that death forever determines the condition of the soul. On the other hand, as I grow older, the idea seems to me to be opposed to Scripture, to the analogies of nature and history, to reason, and to the universal moral sense. If any one should object to prayers for the dead because the privilege and duty seem so distinctively a doctrine of the Roman Catholic Church, my only reply is that we should never ask who are the advocates of any teaching, but, only, is it true? Each branch of the church emphasizes some phase of truth. The Roman Church has given more prominence to prayers for the dead than Protestants, and because of that it will have the gratitude of many honest souls who cannot believe that they are entirely and forever severed from those whom they have loved and still love. I am well aware that there are many difficult questions concerning this subject which it is impossible for me to answer. Some truths are clearly revealed and of others we have only glimpses. Concerning some we feel more than we know, and feelings which are not selfish are prophetic. What an earnest and inquiring spirit feels must be true is quite as likely to be found true as conclusions which seem to have been reached by a process of faultless logic. I fully believe that we are justified in praying for those who have departed this life, that the good may grow better, that the clouds which obscure the vision of the unbelieving may be removed, that all taints of animalism may be washed away; and that we should pray even for the wicked, that the disciplinary processes through which they are passing may some time and somehow lead them to submit their wills to the love and truth of God. We may pray for our loved ones, not simply by way of asking something for them, but in order that there may be a meeting place,--a time for communion and fellowship between those here and those beyond the veil. That meeting place must be found in our common approach to God. Does this teaching seem mystical and fanciful? What if it does? It is in line with the human heart's deepest desires, and with the soul's immortal aspirations. What they most earnestly affirm in their hours of deepest need, and highest illumination, cannot be altogether without foundation in reason and in the Scriptures. The unity of life cannot be too strongly emphasized. Life is one. It is all under the eye and in the strength of God. It has to do with spirit; death, if there is any such thing, has to do with matter. Spirits always grow because they always live. The universe is not composed of two hemispheres, in the upper one of which are to be gathered all the good and in the lower all the evil. It is saner and better to believe that the universe is a sphere in which, in their own places, are all the spirits of men, some beautiful with the holiness of God; some only beginning to rise toward Him, like seed that has broken the soil and begun to move toward the light; and still others like seed whose possibilities are all hidden, but which are not destroyed and which some day also will hear the divine call, feel the touch of God's light, and begin to move toward Him. We live in the midst of mystery. In the future we shall probably find that our best attempts at rational answers to many questions have gone wide of the mark. The most that any of us can do is to be true to ourselves, and to respond to every call from above. In the midst of the gloom of mortal existence it is safe to follow our hearts. We long to commune with those who have gone, to help them and to be helped by them. This longing is natural and rational. That it is not without reason is proved by the example of our Master, who, after His death, is represented as ministering to those whom He loved, and who, we are told, ever liveth to make intercession for us. What our hearts desire, what harmonizes with reason, what is confirmed by the revelations and example of our divine Teacher, will persuade none far from the path which leads to light and felicity. Those whom men call dead, it is best to believe, have but entered upon another phase of the eternal life of the spirit. The Roman Church has an act or service called "The Culture of the Dead." It means the "practice of the presence" of those who, though gone from us, in spirit are with us. The Creed has an article which reads, "I believe in the communion of saints." The Christian year has one day called "All Saints' Day." We shall not be far from the traditions of the church when we pray for our beloved, whether they be in the body or out of the body. Those who would realize the beatitude of this privilege should remember the truth in this stanza from "In Memoriam:" "How pure at heart and sound in head, With what Divine affections bold, Should be the man whose thought would hold An hour's communion with the dead." THE GOAL But Thee, but Thee, O Sovereign Seer of time, But Thee, O poet's Poet, Wisdom's Tongue, But Thee, O man's best Man, O love's best Love, O perfect life in perfect labor writ, O all men's Comrade, Servant, King, or Priest,-- What _if_ or _yet_, what mole, what flaw, what lapse, What least defect or shadow of defect, What rumor, tattled by an enemy, Of inference loose, what lack of grace Even in torture's grasp, or sleep's, or death's,-- Oh, what amiss may I forgive in Thee, Jesus, good Paragon, thou Crystal Christ? --_The Crystal._ Sidney Lanier. XII _THE GOAL_ If the cosmic process in the physical sphere culminated with the appearance of man, and if, since that culmination, its movement has been toward the perfection of the soul, it is fit and proper that this book should end with a study of the goal toward which the human spirit is pressing. Is it possible for us, with our limitations, to have an adequate conception of the man that is to be "when the times are ripe" and the "crowning race" walks this earth of ours?--or, if not this earth, at least, dwells in the spiritual city? The fascination of this subject has been widely recognized. The answer must be secured from many sources. Only in imagination can we follow the lines along which the spirit will move in the far-off ages, and yet our conclusions will not be wholly imaginative, for the direction in which those lines are tending is clearly perceived. Under the circumstances, therefore, imagination may not be an untrustworthy guide. We are now to deal with prophecies, some of them easy and some of them difficult to read. But reading prophecies is not prophesying. I shall not prophesy, but rather endeavor to understand and to interpret a few of the many voices which have spoken, and are speaking, on this subject. The soul is itself a prediction of what it is to be. It utters a various language. The growth of intelligence is prophetic. Savage tribes suggest the original condition of primitive man. The pigmies in Africa afford hints of Adam and Eve, Cain and Abel. From such as they, and from lower types still, the race has slowly and painfully risen. In them a certain rude intelligence appears. They have cunning rather than reason. They are half akin to brute and half akin to man. A kind of selfish intelligence characterizes their thinking. They lack a sense of proportion and relation. Before the ant a man looms as large as a mountain before us. An insect does not see things as they are but as they seem to it. Growth in intelligence necessitates a truer appreciation of proportions and relations. The pigmy also sees little but himself, but years and experience leave behind them wisdom. The civilized races have all risen from barbarism and savagery--that is, from a state of imperfect thinking as well as of imperfect loving and choosing. Experience and culture bring larger knowledge and a more equable balance of the faculties. No man should be measured by his achievement in any one field of endeavor. He may paint like Titian and be as voluptuous; he may write tragedies like Shakespeare and have no logic; he may be a gatherer of facts like Darwin and have no power of philosophic analysis. The intellect grows steadily toward perfection of vision and logical strength, and also and quite as significantly, toward harmony in the development of all the powers of thought. The contrast between the selfish cunning of an African pigmy and the large and noble minds which are steadily multiplying, is a prophecy of the man who will dwell on this earth when the vision is clear and the power of rational judgment is perfected. The prophecy of the soul is not less evident in the emotional nature. At first the soul is either so imperfect, or so limited by the body, that it seems to be nothing but a creature of emotions. It loves, but its affections are selfish and egotistic. What may be called the epochs in its growth are finely treated by Coleridge in "The Ancient Mariner" and by Tennyson in "In Memoriam." The Ancient Mariner felt only selfish affection. He had no love for "being as being." He killed the albatross with as little heed as he disregarded his fellow-men; but the ministries of his misery were multiplied until, at length, he was able to see something beautiful even in the writhing green sea-serpents that followed the ship of death on which he sailed. That was the first sign of the larger interest which had long been growing within him, and which was to continue to grow until he could say, "He prayeth best who loveth best All things both great and small." "In Memoriam" is the record of the expansion of a soul through its increase in love. At the beginning of his grief the poet sings, dolefully and hopelessly, through his tears, "He is not here; but far away The noise of life begins again, And ghastly thro' the drizzling rain On the bald street breaks the blank day." But the soul is growing secretly and surely as wheat grows in winter. The Christmas bells ring out their music and at first are almost hated, but they break through the shell of sorrow and let in a faint echo of the world's great suffering and the world's great joy. Thus human sympathy is enlarged just a bit. In successive years the music of the Christmas bells is heard more distinctly, the sorrow of the world becomes more audible, sympathy reaches farther. At last the poem which began with a _miserere_ ends with a marriage, and he who could at first write that dreary line, "On the bald street breaks the blank day" testifies to the beneficence of the path in which he had been led in this wise and beautiful stanza, "Regret is dead, but love is more Than in the summers that have flown, For I myself with these have grown To something greater than before." From dwelling in a prison with grief as a jailer he has caught a vision of the, "One far off divine event To which the whole creation moves." This expansion of the soul is not difficult to follow. Traces of it may be seen in the enlarged sympathy, the growing brotherhood, and in the rapidly increasing conviction that even nationalities are only temporary expedients for bringing the day when love shall be the universal law. The charities and philanthropies which are blossoming in every city and country district, the consciousness of responsibility for the poor and weak, the angel songs which are heard in the midst of battle, and the gradual disappearance of war, are all vague but true prophecies of what the soul will be when love is perfected. The knowledge of past progress is an inspiration, and the imagination of what will be a glorious hope. A single clause in the Apocalypse has long seemed to me as fine a statement of the condition which will prevail, when this prophecy is a reality, as could be phrased,--"The Lamb is the light thereof." Light is the medium in which objects are visible, and the Lamb is the symbol of sacrificial love. The great dreamer, in his vision, beheld a time when spirits would see in sacrificial love as now we see physical objects in the medium of light. To those who have studied the expansion of individual souls, and who then have contrasted the selfishness of earlier social conditions with the love of men as it is revealed in the laws, institutions, ministries of to-day, this dream of the Apostle rises in the distance as a new continent to a voyager over the wide and desolate ocean. Equally prophetic is the advance which has been made from the passion of savage barbarism, or infantile wilfulness, to the moral reason of the present day as seen in the highest types of humanity in civilized lands. Wilfulness characterizes the childish nature and passion the savage nature. But with the growth of the soul choices are differentiated from impulses, and more and more regularly are inspired by intelligence and unselfish affection. This progress toward intelligent and unselfish choice distinguishes the movement toward civilization. Here, again, the advance made by the individual soul and by the race are equally prophetic. With the years the choices become more rational and loving. Time mellows all men somewhat, and forces a little wisdom into the hardest heads. Even slight growth prophesies that which shall be swifter when conditions are more favorable. The soul is a prediction of clearer vision, truer thought, more unselfish love and wiser choices. It is a prophecy of the perfect man. History is also prophetic of larger souls. The stream of human history, after it has been followed backward a few thousand years, leads into the region of legend and myth--that is, to a time when history could not be written because there was no writing, and when all truth was conveyed in symbolical forms. That means toward a time of narrow experience, and of knowledge far more limited than the present. Memory, in those days, was enormously and abnormally capacious and retentive, but there was no appreciation of humanity. Few lessons from the experiences of others were possible, because the mind was filled with merely tribal legends. What was called early civilization was only relatively splendid. There was unsurpassed poetry but no science, ample brawn but diminutive brain, much passion but little love. Out of the darkness of the past the stream of history, very narrow and shallow at first, has emerged and steadily expanded and deepened. Men are now equally intense but far clearer in vision, nobler in purpose, and purer in character. Their laws year by year have become more humane, their sympathies less contracted, their institutions more civilized. Nature's secret drawers have been unlocked. We are sometimes told that science has added much to the store of man's knowledge but nothing to the strength of his mind or the nobility of his character. That is a serious mistake. With the enlarged visions of the universe, with clearer conceptions of our cosmic relations, with the national neighborliness which is now a necessity, the capacity and the quality of the soul must change. Nay, it has already changed, for we inhabit the same lands over which savages formerly roamed, and we find in the earth and air what they never found; and when we look up into the great wide sky and say, "The Heavens declare the glory of God," we are not thinking of a tribal Deity, or a partial, and more or less passionate, monarch enthroned in the midst of his splendors, but of the King Eternal, immortal, invisible. Knowledge tends to enlarge the mind by which it is acquired. All faculties are strengthened by use. History has moved along a bloody pathway, or, to revert to the figure of a stream, is indeed a river of "tears and blood." The horrors of the process by which the race has been lifted can hardly be exaggerated. I do not forget them while I put stronger emphasis on the fact that the outcome of all the struggle of individuals, the conflict of classes, and the wars of nations has been a nobler and purer quality of soul,--not less heroic but more sacrificial, not less strong but far more virtuous. The growth of the individual soul is mirrored in the progress of the race. When we have learned to read aright the history of the world, we are informed as to the interior forces which have made civilization. Events are expressions of thoughts; institutions are manifestations of soul. If there has been progress in institutions there must have been an equal progress in the souls which are the real forces by which progress is always won. As history has been the evolution of humanity toward finer forms, so it is the assurance that the forces which have been at work in the past will not cease, but steadily continue until "the pile is complete." The perfect society will be composed of perfected individuals. History as prophecy is harmonious with soul as prophecy. The future state of the soul has been the subject of rare fascination for the world's great thinkers. Nearly all religions have a forward look. "The Golden Age" lies far in the distance, but it has commanded the faith of all the seers. It has sometimes been a dream concerning individuals, and again a vision of the perfected society, but in reality the two are one, for the social organism is but a congeries of individuals. Bacon dreamed of New Atlantis, Sir Thomas More saw the fair walls of Utopia rising in the future, Plato defined the boundaries of the ideal Republic, Augustine wrote of the glories of the _Civitate Dei_, and Tennyson with matchless music has sung of the crowning race:-- "Ring out old shapes of foul disease; Ring out the narrowing lust of gold; Ring out the thousand wars of old, Ring in the thousand years of peace. Ring in the valiant man and free, The larger heart, the kindlier hand; Ring out the darkness of the land, Ring in the Christ that is to be." The common characteristic of these social ideals is their dependence on the culture of individuals. With the incoming of "the valiant man and free," the man of "larger heart and kindlier hand," there is a reasonable hope that the darkness of the land will disappear. With that deep look into the inmost secrets of human experience which sounds strangely autobiographical, Browning wrote in "Rabbi Ben Ezra," "Praise be thine! I see the whole design, I, who saw power, see love now perfect too; Perfect I call thy plan; Thanks that I was a man! Maker, remake, complete,--I trust what Thou shalt do!" "Therefore I summon age To grant youth's heritage, Life's struggle having so far reached its term; Thence shall I pass, approved A man, for aye removed From the developed brute; a god though in the germ." Those last lines condense Browning's creed concerning man. He is "for aye removed from the developed brute," and is "a god in the germ." Browning holds that while in the future there will surely be expansion of soul, evolution as a physical process is at an end. Henceforward there will be no passing from one species to another. Species have to do with physical organisms, not with spirits. Soul in man is but God "in the germ." Emerson and Matthew Arnold have written much about education. The one foretells a day when the soul, after mounting and meliorating, finds that even the hells are turned into benefit; and the other makes his own the thought of Bishop Wilson that culture is a study of perfection, and that the soul must ever seek increased life, increased light, and increased power. Education is the word of the hour and of the century. It is believed to be the panacea for all ills, individual and social. But, precisely, what does this passion for education signify if not that, either intelligently or otherwise, all believe in the perfectibility of the soul, and that it will have all the time that it needs for the process. The absorbing devotion to intellectual training suggests the inquiry as to whether many who affirm that they are agnostic concerning immortality are not in reality earnest in their faith; for why should they seek the culture of that which fades, as the flowers fade; when it approaches life's winter? But, whether faith in continuance of being is firm or frail, few doubt the perfectibility of spirit, because, beyond almost all things, they are seeking its perfection. Literature, which is but the thoughts of the great souls of successive periods recorded, prophesies a day when all that hinders or taints shall be done away, and when the divine in the germ shall have grown to large and fair proportions. If there were no other light the outlook would still be inspiring. It is well sometimes to ask ourselves what we were made to be--not these bodies which are clearly decaying--but these spirits which seem to grow younger with the passage of time. I have sometimes thought that the very idea of second childhood is itself a prophecy of the soul's eternal youth. Certain it is that we are the masters of the years. The oldest persons that we know are usually the youngest in their sympathies and ideals. Sorrow and opposition should not destroy, but only strengthen the spiritual powers. Intelligence grows from more to more. The sure reward of love is the capacity and opportunity for larger love. Virtuous choices gradually become the law of liberty. These facts are index fingers pointing toward large and loving, strenuous and sympathetic manhood. And toward such human types, as a matter of fact, the race has been moving. The expectation of the seers and prophets, also, has been of a golden age in which all souls will have had time, and opportunity, of reaching the far-off but splendid goal. Believing, as we do, that death is never a finality, but that it is only an incident in progress; that instead of being an end it is only freedom from limitation, we find ourselves often vaguely, but ever eagerly, asking, To what are all these souls tending? Toward a state glorious beyond language to utter we deeply feel. But has no clearer voice spoken? At last we have reached the end of our inquiry. If any other voices speak they must sound from above. We stand by the unseen like children by the ocean's shore. They know that beyond the storms and waves lie fair and wealthy lands, but the waters separate and their eyes are weak. So we stand before the future, and ask, Toward what goal are all this education, experience and discipline tending? Are they perfecting souls which at last are to be laid away with the bodies which were fortunate enough to win an earlier death? It would be impiety to believe that. Then indeed should we be put to "permanent intellectual confusion." If all the voices of the soul are mockeries, then life is worse than a mistake--it is a crime. The solution of the mystery is now before us. The man that is to be has walked this earth, and wrought with human hands, and lived and labored and loved, and passed into the silent land. Is Jesus the unique revelation of the divine? There may be many to question that, but there are few, indeed, who doubt that He embodied all of the perfect humanity which could be expressed within the limitations of the body. He represented Himself as essential truth and very life. He condensed duty into such love as He manifested toward men. He embodied the heroism of meekness, the courage of self-sacrifice, the vision of goodness. He was an example of all that is strong, serene, sacrificial, in the midst of the lowest and most unresponsive conditions. So much we see, and the rest we dimly, but surely, feel. It was reserved for Paul, in a moment of inspiration, to put into a single phrase a description of the goal of the human spirit, as something which may be forever approached but never reached, in these words, "Till we all attain unto the measure of the stature of the fullness of Christ." The fullness of Christ! That is the soul's final destiny. It was the far call of that goal which it faintly heard at its first awakening and which has never entirely ceased to sound in his ears. Who shall explore the contents of that great phrase? It is a subject for meditation, for prayer, but never for discussion. He who approaches it in a controversial spirit never understands it. What are the qualities of the character of Christ? Some of them lie on the surface of the story. He never doubted God, or, if so, but for a single moment; He was unselfish; He lived to love and to express love; He had some mysterious preternatural power over nature--such, perhaps, as science is approaching in later times; kindness, sympathy, helpfulness, purity, shone from His words and actions. He declared that the privilege of dying to save those who despised Him was a joy. He lived in the limitations of the human condition and, therefore, on the earth only hints of "His fullness" are discernible. The full revelation is to be the endless study of those who are able to see and to appreciate things as they are. But we may ask ourselves whither these lines tend. When the intelligence, the love, the compassion, the mercy, the purity, the moral power and spiritual grandeur which only in dim outline are revealed in the Christ, have perfect manifestations, what will the vision be? The very thought transcends the farthest flights of the poet's imagination and the most daring speculations of philosophers. In "the fullness of Christ" is the soul's true goal. For that all men, and not the elect few, were created. That is the revelation of the divine plan for humanity. Toward that evolution has been slowly, and often painfully, pressing from those dim æons when the earth was without form and void. When man appeared as the flower of all the cosmic process he started at once toward this goal. And with great modesty, and simply because I believe in God and that His love cannot be defeated, I dare to hope that, sometime and somehow, after all the pains of retribution and moral discipline have done their inevitable work, after all the fires of Gehenna have consumed the desire to sin, after Hades and Purgatory have been passed, the souls which, for a time, have dwelt in these mortal bodies, purified and without spot or wrinkle or any such thing, will be given the beatific vision and permitted to realize the height and depth, the length and breadth of "the fullness of Christ." "That one Face, far from vanish, rather grows, Or decomposes but to recompose, Become my universe that feels and knows." INDEX Achilles, 74. Actæon, 82. Adam's fall, 142. Adjustment to environment, 50, 52. Adjustment to knowledge of freedom, 58. Æschylus, 129. Ambrose, 140. Ancient Mariner, 295. Angelo, Michael, 48, 182. Animal entail, 79. Arnold, Matthew, 72, 98, 226, 306. Atmosphere in nurture, 215. Attraction vs. Compulsion, 216. Augustine, 34, 35, 140, 196, 199, 304. Austere experiences, 97. Awakening vs. Re-awakening, 147. Bacon, Lord, 304. Bernard, St., 90. Books, The most vital, 229. Browning, Robert, 26, 113, 129, 152, 238, 305, 314. Browning, Mrs. E.B., 113. Byron, Lord, 74. Bunyan, John, 16. Bushnell, Horace, 37. Buxton, Sir Thomas Fowell, 220. Cenci, Beatrice, 129. Chatterton, 74. Circe, 83. Comforter, The, 205. Companionship, Spiritual, 183. Comus, 81, 92. Conscience, 67, 187. Conversion, 133. Creationism, 11. Crisis in Ascent of the Soul, 134. Cross, The revelation of divine sacrifice, 175. Culture, 212. Culture, a study of perfection, 226. Culture and life, 227. Cultured man, The, 231. Dante, 6. Death, Light on, 176. Death of the body, 239. Diana, 82. Donatello, 137. DuBois-Reymond, 55. Edinburgh, Incident in, 186. Education, prophecy of soul's growth, 306. Emerson, 214, 215, 306. Emanation, 10. Environment, Influence of, 218. Environment, of what composed, 222. Epictetus, 111. Evolution and Immortality, 241. Experience, Individual, 150. Expiation, 155. Falconer, Robert, 143. Faust, 5, 35, 129. Fetish worship, 245. Fiske, John, 5. Fliedner, Pastor, 220. Freedom, Realization of, 54. Galahad, Sir, 85. Garrison, William Lloyd, 220. God, Rational doctrine of, 157. God revealed in Christ, 161. God cannot be defeated, 136. Goethe, 5. Golden Age, 303. Grace, Falling from, impossible, 145. Grail, The Holy, 126. Growth a means of knowledge, 61. Guardian angels, 88, 201. Guinevere, 129, 143, 144. Hale, Nathan, 219. Hamlet, 129. Hannibal, 74. Hawthorne, Nathaniel, 36, 137. Helps in trial, 195. Heredity, 56. Heroism in silence, 198. Hesperus, 2. Hindu Swami, 64. Hindu mother, 66. Hindrances, Ministry of, 89. History, Prophetic, 300. Hope for all, 32. Hugo, Victor, 36, 86. Hunt, Holman, Light of the World, 163. Ideals, Influence of, 218. Ideal Man seen in Jesus Christ, 164. Idylls of the King, 142. Immortality, Ode to, Wordsworth, 10. Immortality in the New Testament, 242. Immortality in the ethnic religions, 242. Immortality, belief in, innate, 244. Immortality, belief in, universal, 245. Immortality, unbelief in, irrational, 247. Immortality and the great teachers, 252. Inequalities in human condition, 249. In Memoriam and Growth of the Soul, 295. Intelligence, Growth in, prophetic, 292. Isaiah, 142. Jesus the Soul's goal, 310. Jesus the Supreme Optimist, 169. Judson, Adoniram, 137. Kaiserwerth, 220. Lanier, Sidney, 290. Learning by experience should be unnecessary, 148. Life the best teacher, 228. Life, Unity of, 284. Life's mystery illumined, 171. Light of the World, Hunt's, 163. Luther, Martin, 138. Macbeth, 129. Macdonald, George, 143. Mahomet, 111. Malthus, 118. Man, light on his nature, 163. Manhood, The ideal, 166. Marble Faun, 137. Marseillaise, The, 219. Matthewson, Dr. Geo., 245. Marguerite, 35. Melchizedek, 133. Milton, John, 82, 83, 92, 255. Moral order, 51. Morally excellent, the, how discern, 63. Moral failure, 73, 129. Moral evil inexplicable, 173. More, Sir Thomas, 304. Napoleon, 74. Nelson, Lord, 220. New College, Oxford, 70. Newton, Sir Isaac, 202. Ney, Marshal, 219. Nightingale, Florence, 220. Nurture, 211. Nurture, part of parents in, 214. Nurture, vitally important, 224, 225. Optimism, 105. Optimism, Rational basis of, 113. Over-soul, 94, 184. Ovid, Metamorphoses, 82. Parents' duty to children, 149. Pascal, 21. Paul, 80. Pearson, Bishop, 272. Personality, 29, 270. Pigmies, 293. Pilgrim's Progress, 6. Plato, 140. Plan of salvation, 155. Poe, Edgar A., 74. Prayer, 276. Prayers for the dead, objections, 269. Prayers for the dead, definition, 270. Prayers for the dead, how justified, 272. Preëxistence, 10. Prodigal Son, 27, 28. Prometheus, 12. Prophecy, 121. Protestants and doctrine of prayers for the dead, 269. Rabbi Ben Ezra, 305. Re-awakening of the Soul, 130. Re-awakening vs. Awakening, 147. Responsibility, 30. Resurrection of Christ, 14. Reynolds, Sir Joshua, 79. Ring and the Book, 129. Roman Church and prayers for the dead, 282. Sakya Muni, 199. Santiago, 196. Satisfaction, 155. Saul, Browning's, 152. Scarlet Letter, The, 137. Self-realization, 31. Shakespeare, 112, 129, 255. Shelley, 74, 129. Siddhartha, 111. Sin always evil, 119. Sin a reality, 127. Sin, Mystery of, 172. Socrates, 74, 111, 199, 253. Sophocles, 129. Soul, Solitary, 87. Souls in society, 103. Soul, what awakens, 34. Soul, definition, 7. Soul, origin, 9. Soul, limited by body, 77. Soul, full of prophecies, 257. Spartans, 65. Spirit evidence of being of God, 20. Spiritual protection, 188. Spirits attract spirits, 194. Spirit, The Eternal, 206. Spitta, Karl J.P., 210. Subconscious action, 20. Sympathy, definition, 106. Sympathy, results from severe experience, 109. Suffering no mistake, 116. Suffering made endurable, 167. Temptations of saints, 84. Tennyson, 85, 113, 126, 129, 274. Thoughts important in character, 230. Training an element in nurture, 220. Transfiguration of Christ, 14. Truth, Search for, 191. Truth finds those prepared for it, 269. Ulysses, 83. Universe, Moral, 93. Universe, The idea of, 159. Utopia, 304. Vedas, Hymns of, 114. Warning voices, 187. Watch on the Rhine, 219. Welldon, 273, 280, 281. Whittier, John G., 220. Wilberforce, William, 140, 220. Wilson, Bishop, 226, 306. Wingfold, Thomas, 143. Wordsworth, 2, 10, 48, 182. 
16581	----	a perfectly spontaneous movement of souls, freed at its birth from all dogmatic restraint, having struggled three hundred years for liberty of conscience, Christianity, in spite of its failures, still reaps the results of its glorious origin. To renew itself, it has but to return to the Gospel. The kingdom of God, as we conceive it, differs notably from the supernatural apparition which the first Christians hoped to see appear in the clouds. But the sentiment introduced by Jesus into the world is indeed ours. His perfect idealism is the highest rule of the unblemished and virtuous life. He has created the heaven of pure souls, where is found what we ask for in vain on earth, the perfect nobility of the children of God, absolute purity, the total removal of the stains of the world; in fine, liberty, which society excludes as an impossibility, and which exists in all its amplitude only in the domain of thought. The great Master of those who take refuge in this ideal kingdom of God is still Jesus. He was the first to proclaim the royalty of the mind; the first to say, at least by his actions, "My kingdom is not of this world." The foundation of true religion is indeed his work: after him, all that remains is to develop it and render it fruitful. "Christianity" has thus become almost a synonym of "religion." All that is done outside of this great and good Christian tradition is barren. Jesus gave religion to humanity, as Socrates gave it philosophy, and Aristotle science. There was philosophy before Socrates and science before Aristotle. Since Socrates and since Aristotle, philosophy and science have made immense progress; but all has been built upon the foundation which they laid. In the same way, before Jesus, religious thought had passed through many revolutions; since Jesus, it has made great conquests: but no one has improved, and no one will improve upon the essential principle Jesus has created; he has fixed forever the idea of pure worship. The religion of Jesus in this sense is not limited. The Church has had its epochs and its phases; it has shut itself up in creeds which are, or will be but temporary: but Jesus has founded the absolute religion, excluding nothing, and determining nothing unless it be the spirit. His creeds are not fixed dogmas, but images susceptible of indefinite interpretations. We should seek in vain for a theological proposition in the Gospel. All confessions of faith are travesties of the idea of Jesus, just as the scholasticism of the Middle Ages, in proclaiming Aristotle the sole master of a completed science, perverted the thought of Aristotle. Aristotle, if he had been present in the debates of the schools, would have repudiated this narrow doctrine; he would have been of the party of progressive science against the routine which shielded itself under his authority; he would have applauded his opponents. In the same way, if Jesus were to return among us, he would recognize as disciples, not those who pretend to enclose him entirely in a few catechismal phrases, but those who labor to carry on his work. The eternal glory, in all great things, is to have laid the first stone. It may be that in the "Physics," and in the "Meteorology" of modern times, we may not discover a word of the treatises of Aristotle which bear these titles; but Aristotle remains no less the founder of natural science. Whatever may be the transformations of dogma, Jesus will ever be the creator of the pure spirit of religion; the Sermon on the Mount will never be surpassed. Whatever revolution takes place will not prevent us attaching ourselves in religion to the grand intellectual and moral line at the head of which shines the name of Jesus. In this sense we are Christians, even when we separate ourselves on almost all points from the Christian tradition which has preceded us. And this great foundation was indeed the personal work of Jesus. In order to make himself adored to this degree, he must have been adorable. Love is not enkindled except by an object worthy of it, and we should know nothing of Jesus, if it were not for the passion he inspired in those about him, which compels us still to affirm that he was great and pure. The faith, the enthusiasm, the constancy of the first Christian generation is not explicable, except by supposing at the origin of the whole movement, a man of surpassing greatness. At the sight of the marvellous creations of the ages of faith, two impressions equally fatal to good historical criticism arise in the mind. On the one hand we are led to think these creations too impersonal; we attribute to a collective action, that which has often been the work of one powerful will, and of one superior mind. On the other hand, we refuse to see men like ourselves in the authors of those extraordinary movements which have decided the fate of humanity. Let us have a larger idea of the powers which Nature conceals in her bosom. Our civilizations, governed by minute restrictions, cannot give us any idea of the power of man at periods in which the originality of each one had a freer field wherein to develop itself. Let us imagine a recluse dwelling in the mountains near our capitals, coming out from time to time in order to present himself at the palaces of sovereigns, compelling the sentinels to stand aside, and, with an imperious tone, announcing to kings the approach of revolutions of which he had been the promoter. The very idea provokes a smile. Such, however, was Elias; but Elias the Tishbite, in our days, would not be able to pass the gate of the Tuileries. The preaching of Jesus, and his free activity in Galilee, do not deviate less completely from the social conditions to which we are accustomed. Free from our polished conventionalities, exempt from the uniform education which refines us, but which so greatly dwarfs our individuality, these mighty souls carried a surprising energy into action. They appear to us like the giants of an heroic age, which could not have been real. Profound error! Those men were our brothers; they were of our stature, felt and thought as we do. But the breath of God was free in them; with us, it is restrained by the iron bonds of a mean society, and condemned to an irremediable mediocrity. Let us place, then, the person of Jesus at the highest summit of human greatness. Let us not be misled by exaggerated doubts in the presence of a legend which keeps us always in a superhuman world. The life of Francis d'Assisi is also but a tissue of miracles. Has any one, however, doubted of the existence of Francis d'Assisi, and of the part played by him? Let us say no more that the glory of the foundation of Christianity belongs to the multitude of the first Christians, and not to him whom legend has deified. The inequality of men is much more marked in the East than with us. It is not rare to see arise there, in the midst of a general atmosphere of wickedness, characters whose greatness astonishes us. So far from Jesus having been created by his disciples, he appeared in everything as superior to his disciples. The latter, with the exception of St. Paul and St. John, were men without either invention or genius. St. Paul himself bears no comparison with Jesus, and as to St. John, I shall show hereafter, that the part he played, though very elevated in one sense, was far from being in all respects irreproachable. Hence the immense superiority of the Gospels among the writings of the New Testament. Hence the painful fall we experience in passing from the history of Jesus to that of the apostles. The evangelists themselves, who have bequeathed us the image of Jesus, are so much beneath him of whom they speak, that they constantly disfigure him, from their inability to attain to his height. Their writings are full of errors and misconceptions. We feel in each line a discourse of divine beauty, transcribed by narrators who do not understand it, and who substitute their own ideas for those which they have only half understood. On the whole, the character of Jesus, far from having been embellished by his biographers, has been lowered by them. Criticism, in order to find what he was, needs to discard a series of misconceptions, arising from the inferiority of the disciples. These painted him as they understood him, and often in thinking to raise him, they have in reality lowered him. I know that our modern ideas have been offended more than once in this legend, conceived by another race, under another sky, and in the midst of other social wants. There are virtues which, in some respects, are more conformable to our taste. The virtuous and gentle Marcus Aurelius, the humble and gentle Spinoza, not having believed in miracles, have been free from some errors that Jesus shared. Spinoza, in his profound obscurity, had an advantage which Jesus did not seek. By our extreme delicacy in the use of means of conviction, by our absolute sincerity and our disinterested love of the pure idea, we have founded--all we who have devoted our lives to science--a new ideal of morality. But the judgment of general history ought not to be restricted to considerations of personal merit. Marcus Aurelius and his noble teachers have had no permanent influence on the world. Marcus Aurelius left behind him delightful books, an execrable son, and a decaying nation. Jesus remains an inexhaustible principle of moral regeneration for humanity. Philosophy does not suffice for the multitude. They must have sanctity. An Apollonius of Tyana, with his miraculous legend, is necessarily more successful than a Socrates with his cold reason. "Socrates," it was said, "leaves men on the earth, Apollonius transports them to heaven; Socrates is but a sage, Apollonius is a god."[1] Religion, so far, has not existed without a share of asceticism, of piety, and of the marvellous. When it was wished, after the Antonines, to make a religion of philosophy, it was requisite to transform the philosophers into saints, to write the "Edifying Life" of Pythagoras or Plotinus, to attribute to them a legend, virtues of abstinence, contemplation, and supernatural powers, without which neither credence nor authority were found in that age. [Footnote 1: Philostratus, _Life of Apollonius_, i. 2, vii. 11, viii. 7; Unapius, _Lives of the Sophists_, pages 454, 500 (edition Didot).] Preserve us, then, from mutilating history in order to satisfy our petty susceptibilities! Which of us, pigmies as we are, could do what the extravagant Francis d'Assisi, or the hysterical saint Theresa, has done? Let medicine have names to express these grand errors of human nature; let it maintain that genius is a disease of the brain; let it see, in a certain delicacy of morality, the commencement of consumption; let it class enthusiasm and love as nervous accidents--it matters little. The terms healthy and diseased are entirely relative. Who would not prefer to be diseased like Pascal, rather than healthy like the common herd? The narrow ideas which are spread in our times respecting madness, mislead our historical judgments in the most serious manner, in questions of this kind. A state in which a man says things of which he is not conscious, in which thought is produced without the summons and control of the will, exposes him to being confined as a lunatic. Formerly this was called prophecy and inspiration. The most beautiful things in the world are done in a state of fever; every great creation involves a breach of equilibrium, a violent state of the being which draws it forth. We acknowledge, indeed, that Christianity is too complex to have been the work of a single man. In one sense, entire humanity has co-operated therein. There is no one so shut in, as not to receive some influence from without. The history of the human mind is full of strange coincidences, which cause very remote portions of the human species, without any communication with each other, to arrive at the same time at almost identical ideas and imaginations. In the thirteenth century, the Latins, the Greeks, the Syrians, the Jews, and the Mussulmans, adopted scholasticism, and very nearly the same scholasticism from York to Samarcand; in the fourteenth century every one in Italy, Persia, and India, yielded to the taste for mystical allegory; in the sixteenth, art was developed in a very similar manner in Italy, at Mount Athos, and at the court of the Great Moguls, without St. Thomas, Barhebræus, the Rabbis of Narbonne, or the _Motécallémin_ of Bagdad, having known each other, without Dante and Petrarch having seen any _sofi_, without any pupil of the schools of Perouse or of Florence having been at Delhi. We should say there are great moral influences running through the world like epidemics, without distinction of frontier and of race. The interchange of ideas in the human species does not take place only by books or by direct instruction. Jesus was ignorant of the very name of Buddha, of Zoroaster, and of Plato; he had read no Greek book, no Buddhist Sudra; nevertheless, there was in him more than one element, which, without his suspecting it, came from Buddhism, Parseeism, or from the Greek wisdom. All this was done through secret channels and by that kind of sympathy which exists among the various portions of humanity. The great man, on the one hand, receives everything from his age; on the other, he governs his age. To show that the religion founded by Jesus was the natural consequence of that which had gone before, does not diminish its excellence; but only proves that it had a reason for its existence that it was legitimate, that is to say, conformable to the instinct and wants of the heart in a given age. Is it more just to say that Jesus owes all to Judaism, and that his greatness is only that of the Jewish people? No one is more disposed than myself to place high this unique people, whose particular gift seems to have been to contain in its midst the extremes of good and evil. No doubt, Jesus proceeded from Judaism; but he proceeded from it as Socrates proceeded from the schools of the Sophists, as Luther proceeded from the Middle Ages, as Lamennais from Catholicism, as Rousseau from the eighteenth century. A man is of his age and his race even when he reacts against his age and his race. Far from Jesus having continued Judaism, he represents the rupture with the Jewish spirit. The general direction of Christianity after him does not permit the supposition that his idea in this respect could lead to any misunderstanding. The general march of Christianity has been to remove itself more and more from Judaism. It will become perfect in returning to Jesus, but certainly not in returning to Judaism. The great originality of the founder remains then undiminished; his glory admits no legitimate sharer. Doubtless, circumstances much aided the success of this marvellous revolution; but circumstances only second that which is just and true. Each branch of the development of humanity has its privileged epoch, in which it attains perfection by a sort of spontaneous instinct, and without effort. No labor of reflection would succeed in producing afterward the masterpieces which Nature creates at those moments by inspired geniuses. That which the golden age of Greece was for arts and literature, the age of Jesus was for religion. Jewish society exhibited the most extraordinary moral and intellectual state which the human species has ever passed through. It was truly one of those divine hours in which the sublime is produced by combinations of a thousand hidden forces, in which great souls find a flood of admiration and sympathy to sustain them. The world, delivered from the very narrow tyranny of small municipal republics, enjoyed great liberty. Roman despotism did not make itself felt in a disastrous manner until much later, and it was, moreover, always less oppressive in those distant provinces than in the centre of the empire. Our petty preventive interferences (far more destructive than death to things of the spirit) did not exist. Jesus, during three years, could lead a life which, in our societies, would have brought him twenty times before the magistrates. Our laws upon the illegal exercise of medicine would alone have sufficed to cut short his career. The unbelieving dynasty of the Herods, on the other hand, occupied itself little with religious movements; under the Asmoneans, Jesus would probably have been arrested at his first step. An innovator, in such a state of society, only risked death, and death is a gain to those who labor for the future. Imagine Jesus reduced to bear the burden of his divinity until his sixtieth or seventieth year, losing his celestial fire, wearing out little by little under the burden of an unparalleled mission! Everything favors those who have a special destiny; they become glorious by a sort of invincible impulse and command of fate. This sublime person, who each day still presides over the destiny of the world, we may call divine, not in the sense that Jesus has absorbed all the divine, or has been adequate to it (to employ an expression of the schoolmen), but in the sense that Jesus is the one who has caused his fellow-men to make the greatest step toward the divine. Mankind in its totality offers an assemblage of low beings, selfish, and superior to the animal only in that its selfishness is more reflective. From the midst of this uniform mediocrity, there are pillars that rise toward the sky, and bear witness to a nobler destiny. Jesus is the highest of these pillars which show to man whence he comes, and whither he ought to tend. In him was condensed all that is good and elevated in our nature. He was not sinless; he has conquered the same passions that we combat; no angel of God comforted him, except his good conscience; no Satan tempted him, except that which each one bears in his heart. In the same way that many of his great qualities are lost to us, through the fault of his disciples, it is also probable that many of his faults have been concealed. But never has any one so much as he made the interests of humanity predominate in his life over the littlenesses of self-love. Unreservedly devoted to his mission, he subordinated everything to it to such a degree that, toward the end of his life, the universe no longer existed for him. It was by this access of heroic will that he conquered heaven. There never was a man, Cakya-Mouni perhaps excepted, who has to this degree trampled under foot, family, the joys of this world, and all temporal care. Jesus only lived for his Father and the divine mission which he believed himself destined to fulfill. As to us, eternal children, powerless as we are, we who labor without reaping, and who will never see the fruit of that which we have sown, let us bow before these demi-gods. They were able to do that which we cannot do: to create, to affirm, to act. Will great originality be born again, or will the world content itself henceforth by following the ways opened by the bold creators of the ancient ages? We know not. But whatever may be the unexpected phenomena of the future, Jesus will not be surpassed. His worship will constantly renew its youth, the tale of his life will cause ceaseless tears, his sufferings will soften the best hearts; all the ages will proclaim that among the sons of men, there is none born who is greater than Jesus. [THE END.] _Modern Library of the World's Best Books_ COMPLETE LIST OF TITLES IN THE MODERN LIBRARY For convenience in ordering use number at right of title * * * * * ADAMS, HENRY The Education of Henry Adams 76 AIKEN, CONRAD A Comprehensive Anthology of American Poetry 101 AIKEN, CONRAD 20th-Century American Poetry 127 ANDERSON, SHERWOOD Winesburg, Ohio 104 AQUINAS, ST. THOMAS Introduction to St. Thomas Aquinas 259 ARISTOTLE Introduction to Aristotle 248 ARISTOTLE Politics 228 BALZAC Droll Stories 193 BALZAC Père Goriot and Eugénie Grandet 245 BEERBOHM, MAX Zuleika Dobson 116 BELLAMY, EDWARD Looking Backward 22 BENNETT, ARNOLD The Old Wives' Tale 184 BERGSON, HENRI Creative Evolution 231 BIERCE, AMBROSE In the Midst of Life 133 BOCCACCIO The Decameron 71 BRONTË, CHARLOTTE Jane Eyre 64 BRONTË, EMILY Wuthering Heights 106 BUCK, PEARL The Good Earth 15 BURK, JOHN N. The Life and Works of Beethoven 241 BURTON, RICHARD The Arabian Nights 201 BUTLER, SAMUEL Erewhon and Erewhon Revisited 136 BUTLER, SAMUEL The Way of All Flesh 13 BYRNE, DONN Messer Marco Polo 43 CALDWELL, ERSKINE God's Little Acre 51 CALDWELL, ERSKINE Tobacco Road 249 CANFIELD, DOROTHY The Deepening Stream 200 CARROLL, LEWIS Alice in Wonderland, etc. 79 CASANOVA, JACQUES Memoirs of Casanova 165 CELLINI, BENVENUTO Autobiography of Cellini 150 CERVANTES Don Quixote 174 CHAUCER The Canterbury Tales 161 COMMAGER, HENRY STEELE A Short History of the United States 235 CONFUCIUS The Wisdom of Confucius 7 CONRAD, JOSEPH Heart of Darkness (In Great Modern Short Stories 168) CONRAD, JOSEPH Lord Jim 186 CONRAD, JOSEPH Victory 186 CORNEILLE and RACINE Six Plays of Corneille and Racine 194 CORVO, FREDERICK BARON A History of the Borgias 192 CRANE, STEPHEN The Red Badge of Courage 130 CUMMINGS, E.E. The Enormous Room 214 DANA, RICHARD HENRY Two Years Before the Mast 236 DANTE The Divine Comedy 208 DAY, CLARENCE Life with Father 230 DEFOE, DANIEL Robinson Crusoe and A Journal of the Plague Year 92 DEFOE, DANIEL Moll Flanders 122 DEWEY, JOHN Human Nature and Conduct 173 DICKENS, CHARLES A Tale of Two Cities 189 DICKENS, CHARLES David Copperfield 110 DICKENS, CHARLES Pickwick Papers 204 DICKINSON, EMILY Selected Poems of 25 DINESEN, ISAK Seven Gothic Tales 54 DOS PASSOS, JOHN Three Soldiers 205 DOSTOYEVSKY, FYODOR Crime and Punishment 199 DOSTOYEVSKY, FYODOR The Brothers Karamazov 151 DOSTOYEVSKY, FYODOR The Possessed 55 DOUGLAS, NORMAN South Wind 5 DOYLE, SIR ARTHUR CONAN The Adventures and Memoirs of Sherlock Holmes 206 DREISER, THEODORE Sister Carrie 8 DUMAS, ALEXANDRE Camille 69 DUMAS, ALEXANDRE The Three Musketeers 143 DU MAURIER, DAPHNE Rebecca 227 DU MAURIER, GEORGE Peter Ibbetson 207 EDMAN, IRWIN The Philosophy of Plato 181 EDMAN, IRWIN The Philosophy of Santayana 224 ELLIS, HAVELOCK The Dance of Life 160 EMERSON, RALPH WALDO Essays and Other Writings 91 FAST, HOWARD The Unvanquished 239 FAULKNER, WILLIAM Sanctuary 61 FAULKNER, WILLIAM The Sound and the Fury and As I Lay Dying 187 FIELDING, HENRY Joseph Andrews 117 FIELDING, HENRY Tom Jones 185 FLAUBERT, GUSTAVE Madame Bovary 28 FORESTER, C.S. The African Queen 102 FORSTER, E.M. A Passage to India 218 FRANCE, ANATOLE Penguin Island 210 FRANKLIN, BENJAMIN Autobiography, etc. 39 FROST, ROBERT The Poems of 242 GALSWORTHY, JOHN The Apple Tree (In Great Modern Short Stories 168) GAUTIER, THEOPHILE Mlle. De Maupin and One of Cleopatra's Nights 53 GEORGE, HENRY Progress and Poverty 36 GODDEN, RUMER Black Narcissus 256 GOETHE Faust 177 GOETHE The Sorrows of Werther (In Collected German Stories 108) GOGOL, NIKOLAI Dead Souls 40 GRAVES, ROBERT I, Claudius 20 HAMMETT, DASHIELL The Maltese Falcon 45 HAMSUN, KNUT Growth of the Soil 12 HARDY, THOMAS Jude the Obscure 135 HARDY, THOMAS The Mayor of Casterbridge 17 HARDY, THOMAS The Return of the Native 121 HARDY, THOMAS Tess of the D'Urbervilles 72 HART AND KAUFMAN Six Plays by 233 HARTE, BRET The Best Stories of 250 HAWTHORNE, NATHANIEL The Scarlet Letter 93 HELLMAN, LILLIAN Four Plays by 223 HEMINGWAY, ERNEST A Farewell to Arms 19 HEMINGWAY, ERNEST The Sun Also Rises 170 HEMON, LOUIS Maria Chapdelaine 10 HENRY, O. Best Short Stones of 4 HERODOTUS The Complete Works of 255 HERSEY, JOHN A Bell for Adano 16 HOMER The Iliad 166 HOMER The Odyssey 167 HORACE The Complete Works of 141 HUDSON, W.H. Green Mansions 89 HUDSON, W.H. The Purple Land 24 HUGHES, RICHARD A High Wind in Jamaica 112 HUGO, VICTOR The Hunchback of Notre Dame 35 HUXLEY, ALDOUS Antic Hay 209 HUXLEY, ALDOUS Point Counter Point 180 IBSEN, HENRIK A Doll's House, Ghosts, etc. 6 IRVING, WASHINGTON Selected Writings of Washington Irving 240 JACKSON, CHARLES The Lost Weekend 258 JAMES, HENRY The Portrait of a Lady 107 JAMES, HENRY The Turn of the Screw 169 JAMES, HENRY The Wings of the Dove 244 JAMES, WILLIAM The Philosophy of William James 114 JAMES, WILLIAM The Varieties of Religious Experience 70 JEFFERS, WILLIAM Roan Stallion; Tamar and Other Poems 118 JEFFERSON, THOMAS The Life and Selected Writings of 234 JOYCE, JAMES Dubliners 124 JOYCE, JAMES A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man 145 KAUFMAN AND HART Six Plays by 233 KOESTLER, ARTHUR Darkness at Noon 74 KUPRIN, ALEXANDRE Yama 203 LAOTSE The Wisdom of 262 LARDNER, RING The Collected Short Stories of 211 LAWRENCE, D.H. The Rainbow 128 LAWRENCE, D.H. Sons and Lovers 109 LAWRENCE, D.H. Women in Love 68 LEWIS, SINCLAIR Arrowsmith 42 LEWIS, SINCLAIR Babbitt 162 LEWIS, SINCLAIR Dodsworth 252 LONGFELLOW, HENRY W. Poems 56 LOUYS, PIERRE Aphrodite 77 LUDWIG, EMIL Napoleon 95 MACHIAVELLI The Prince and The Discourses of Machiavelli 65 MALRAUX, ANDRÉ Man's Fate 33 MANN, THOMAS Death in Venice (In Collected German Stories 108) MANSFIELD, KATHERINE The Garden Party 129 MARQUAND, JOHN P. The Late George Apley 182 MARX, KARL Capital and Other Writings 202 MAUGHAM, W. SOMERSET Of Human Bondage 176 MAUGHAM, W. SOMERSET The Moon and Sixpence 27 MAUPASSANT, GUY DE Best Short Stories 98 MAUROIS, ANDRÉ Disraeli 46 McFEE, WILLIAM Casuals of the Sea 195 MELVILLE, HERMAN Moby Dick 119 MEREDITH, GEORGE Diana of the Crossways 14 MEREDITH, GEORGE The Ordeal of Richard Feverel 134 MEREDITH, GEORGE The Egoist 253 MEREJKOWSKI, DMITRI The Romance of Leonardo da Vinci 138 MILTON, JOHN The Complete Poetry and Selected Prose of John Milton 132 MISCELLANEOUS An Anthology of American Negro Literature 163 An Anthology of Light Verse 48 Best Amer. Humorous Short Stories 87 Best Russian Short Stories, including Bunin's The Gentleman from San Francisco 18 Eight Famous Elizabethan Plays 94 Famous Ghost Stories 73 Five Great Modern Irish Plays 30 Four Famous Greek Plays 158 Fourteen Great Detective Stories 144 Great German Short Novels and Stories 108 Great Modern Short Stories 168 Great Tales of the American West 238 Outline of Abnormal Psychology 152 Outline of Psychoanalysis 66 The Consolation of Philosophy 226 The Federalist 139 The Making of Man: An Outline of Anthropology 149 The Making of Society: An Outline of Sociology 183 The Poetry of Freedom 175 The Sex Problem in Modern Society 198 The Short Bible 57 Three Famous French Romances 85 Sapho, by Alphonse Daudet Manon Lescaut, by Antoine Prevost Carmen, by Prosper Merimee MOLIERE Plays 78 MORLEY, CHRISTOPHER Parnassus on Wheels 190 NASH, OGDEN The Selected Verse of Ogden Nash 191 NEVINS, ALLAN A Short History of the United States 235 NIETZSCHE, FRIEDRICH Thus Spake Zarathustra 9 NOSTRADAMUS Oracles of 81 ODETS, CLIFFORD Six Plays of 67 O'NEILL, EUGENE The Emperor Jones, Anna Christie and The Hairy Ape 146 O'NEILL, EUGENE The Long Voyage Home and Seven Plays of the Sea 111 PALGRAVE, FRANCIS The Golden Treasury 232 PARKER, DOROTHY The Collected Short Stories of 123 PARKER, DOROTHY The Collected Poetry of 237 PASCAL, BLAISE Pensées and The Provincial Letters 164 PATER, WALTER Marius the Epicurean 90 PATER, WALTER The Renaissance 86 PAUL, ELLIOT The Life and Death of a Spanish Town 225 PEARSON, EDMUND Studies in Murder 113 PEPYS, SAMUEL Samuel Pepys' Diary 103 PERELMAN, S.J. The Best of 247 PETRONIUS ARBITER The Satyricon 156 PLATO The Philosophy of Plato 181 PLATO The Republic 153 POE, EDGAR ALLAN Best Tales 82 POLO, MARCO The Travels of Marco Polo 196 POPE, ALEXANDER Selected Works of 257 PORTER, KATHERINE ANNE Flowering Judas 88 PROUST, MARCEL Swann's Way 59 PROUST, MARCEL Within a Budding Grove 172 PROUST, MARCEL The Guermantes Way 213 PROUST, MARCEL Cities of the Plain 220 PROUST, MARCEL The Captive 120 PROUST, MARCEL The Sweet Cheat Gone 260 RAWLINGS, MARJORIE KINNAN The Yearling 246 READE, CHARLES The Cloister and the Hearth 62 REED, JOHN Ten Days that Shook the World 215 RENAN, ERNEST The Life of Jesus 140 ROSTAND, EDMOND Cyrano de Bergerac 154 ROUSSEAU, JEAN JACQUES The Confessions of Jean Jacques Rousseau 243 RUSSELL, BERTRAND Selected Papers of Bertrand Russell 137 SCHOPENHAUER The Philosophy of Schopenhauer 52 SHAKESPEARE, WILLIAM Tragedies, 1, 1A--complete, 2 vols. SHAKESPEARE, WILLIAM Comedies, 2, 2A--complete, 2 vols. SHAKESPEARE, WILLIAM Histories, 3 } Histories, Poems, 3A } complete, 2 vols. SHEEAN, VINCENT Personal History 32 SMOLLETT, TOBIAS Humphry Clinker 159 SNOW, EDGAR Red Star Over China 126 SPINOZA The Philosophy of Spinoza 60 STEINBECK, JOHN In Dubious Battle 115 STEINBECK, JOHN Of Mice and Men 29 STEINBECK, JOHN The Grapes of Wrath 148 STEINBECK, JOHN Tortilla Flat 216 STENDHAL The Red and the Black 157 STERNE, LAURENCE Tristram Shandy 147 STEWART, GEORGE R. Storm 254 STOKER, BRAM Dracula 31 STONE, IRVING Lust for Life 11 STOWE, HARRIET BEECHER Uncle Tom's Cabin 261 STRACHEY, LYTTON Eminent Victorians 212 SUETONIUS Lives of the Twelve Caesars 188 SWIFT, JONATHAN Gulliver's Travels, A Tale of a Tub, The Battle of the Books 100 SWINBURNE, CHARLES Poems 23 SYMONDS, JOHN A. The Life of Michelangelo 49 TACITUS The Complete Works of 222 TCHEKOV, ANTON Short Stories 50 TCHEKOV, ANTON Sea Gull, Cherry Orchard, Three Sisters, etc. 171 THACKERAY, WILLIAM Henry Esmond 80 THACKERAY, WILLIAM Vanity Fair 131 THOMPSON, FRANCIS Complete Poems 38 THOREAU, HENRY DAVID Walden and Other Writings 155 THUCYDIDES The Complete Writings of 58 TOLSTOY, LEO Anna Karenina 37 TOMLINSON, H.M. The Sea and the Jungle 99 TROLLOPE, ANTHONY Barchester Towers and The Warden 41 TROLLOPE, ANTHONY The Eustace Diamonds 251 TURGENEV, IVAN Fathers and Sons 21 VAN LOON, HENDRIK W. Ancient Man 105 VEBLEN, THORSTEIN The Theory of the Leisure Class 63 VIRGIL'S WORKS Including The Aeneid, Eclogues, and Georgics 75 VOLTAIRE Candide 47 WALPOLE, HUGH Fortitude 178 WALTON, IZAAK The Compleat Angler 26 WEBB, MARY Precious Bane 219 WELLS, H.G. Tono Bungay 197 WHARTON, EDITH The Age of Innocence 229 WHITMAN, WALT Leaves of Grass 97 WILDE, OSCAR Dorian Gray, De Profundis 125 WILDE, OSCAR Poems and Fairy Tales 84 WILDE, OSCAR The Plays of Oscar Wilde 83 WOOLF, VIRGINIA Mrs. Dalloway 96 WOOLF, VIRGINIA To the Lighthouse 217 WRIGHT, RICHARD Native Son 221 YEATS, W.B. Irish Fairy and Folk Tales 44 YOUNG, G.F. The Medici 179 ZOLA, EMILE Nana 142 ZWEIG, STEFAN Amok (In Collected German Stories 108) MODERN LIBRARY GIANTS _A series of full-sized library editions of books that formerly were available only in cumbersome and expensive sets._ THE MODERN LIBRARY GIANTS REPRESENT A SELECTION OF THE WORLD'S GREATEST BOOKS _Many are illustrated and some of them are over 1200 pages long._ * * * * * G1. TOLSTOY, LEO. War and Peace. G2. BOSWELL, JAMES. Life of Samuel Johnson. G3. HUGO, VICTOR. Les Miserables. G4. THE COMPLETE POEMS OF KEATS AND SHELLEY. G5. PLUTARCH'S LIVES (The Dryden Translation). G6.} GIBBON, EDWARD. 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16866	----	THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH; OR A VISIT TO A RELIGIOUS SCEPTIC. FIFTH EDITION. BOSTON: CROSBY, NICHOLS AND COMPANY, 111 WASHINGTON STREET. 1854. AMERICAN PREFACE. The effect of the perusal of this book, and the estimate put upon it by a reader, will depend upon his taking with him a right view of its design. That design seems in the mind of the writer to have been very definite and very restricted. If he should be thought to have intended an answer to all the elaborate objections from criticism and philosophy recently or renewedly urged against faith in the Christian revelation, and, still more, if the reader should suppose that the author had aimed to remove all the difficulties in the way of such a faith, he would equally insure his own disappointment, and wrong the writer. The book comes forth anonymously, but it is ascribed to Mr. Henry Rogers, some of whose very able papers in the Edinburgh Review have been republished in two octavo volumes in England, and one of whose articles, that on "Reason and Faith," dealt with some of the topics which form the subject-matter of this volume. The author seems to have viewed with a keenly attentive and anxious mind the generally unsettled state of opinion, equally among the literary and some of the humbler classes in England, concerning the terms and the sanction of a religious faith, especially as the issue bears upon the contents and the authority of the Bible. That he understands the state of things in which he proposes himself as one who has a word to utter, will be allowed by all candid judges, whatever criticism they may pass upon the effectiveness of his own argument. There is abundant evidence in this book of his large intimacy with the freshest forms of speculation, as developed by the free thought of our age. While he identifies these speculations with the recent writers who have adopted them, he is not to be understood as allowing that these writers have originated any novel speculations, or excelled the sceptics of former times in acuteness, or plausibility, or success in urging their cause. He adopts the method of the Platonic dialogue, and exhibits a dialectic skill in confounding by objections when objections can be made to do service as arguments. His frank admission that he leaves insurmountable objections and unfathomable mysteries still involved in the theme, a portion of whose range alone he traverses, should secure him from the imputation of having attempted too much, or of boastfulness for what he considers that he has accomplished. The truculent notice of this book in the Westminster Review for July is wholly unworthy of the reputation and the claims of that journal. Probably a careful perusal of the book is an essential condition for enlightening the mind of the writer, and for rectifying his judgment, so far as information has power to promote candor. The Prospective Review for August, in an article on the work, for the most part commendatory, though certainly without any warmth of praise, makes the prominent stricture upon it to be, a charge against the author of having evaded "the gravest, and in one sense the only serious difficulty, with which the evidences he supports have to contend." This difficulty is defined to be in the question as to whether our four Gospels are essentially and substantially documents from the pens of Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John, actual companions and contemporaries of Him whose life and lessons are therein recorded. The Reviewer professes to have satisfied his own mind by an affirmative conclusion on this point. But regarding the question as the very turning-point, the paramount and vital element of the existing issue between faith and unbelief, and not finding it to be dealt with in this volume, the Reviewer considers that it is evaded. It might be urged in reply, that this question is not to other minds of such paramount importance, and that its affirmative answer would not be conclusive, as it would still leave open other questions; such, for instance, as those which enter into the theories of Paulus and other Rationalists, and such as are not even excluded from the incidental adjuncts of Strauss's mythical theory. It might also be urged, that, allowing the question to be paramount in its relation to the whole issue, it is one which is not so judiciously dealt with in the discursiveness of dialogues after dinner, as in the solitary study, with piles of huge tomes, lexicons, and manuscripts that require a most deliberate examination. But to leave the merits and the relative importance of this question undebated, it might have been more generous in the Reviewer to have confined his criticisms to a decision upon what the author has endeavored to accomplish, instead of impugning his judgment in the selection of the points on which to employ his pen. How ever desirable it may be that we should have in another form what Mr. Norton has presented so thoroughly in his work on the Genuineness of the Gospels, it is enough to answer to the Reviewer in the Prospective, that the writer of this volume addressed himself to a different course of argument, starting from other divergences of opinion, philosophical rather than critical in their relations. He certainly was free to select the method and the direction of his argument, if he candidly represented the answering point of view of those to whom he opposed himself. Amid many episodes and interludes of fancy and narrative, it will be found that the volume arrays its force of argument against two of the assumptions alike of modern and of ancient scepticism; namely, that a revelation from God to men through the agency of a book is an unreasonable tenet of belief; and that it is impossible that a miracle should occur, and impossible that its occurrence should be authenticated. There is a vigorous and logical power displayed in the discussion of these two points. The discomfiture of those who urge these assumptions does not of course convince all scepticism, or substitute faith for it, but it is something to discomfit such pleas, and to expose the fallacies which confuse the minds of their advocates. The matters of debate are lofty, and there is no levity in their treatment. ADVERTISEMENT. He who reads this book only superficially will at once see that it is not all fiction; and he who reads it more than superficially will as easily see that it is not all fact. In what proportions it is composed of either would probably require a very acute critic accurately to determine. As the Editor makes no pretensions to such acumen,--as he can lay claim to only an imperfect knowledge of the principal personage in the volume, and never had any personal acquaintance with the singular youth, some traits of whose character and some glimpses of whose history are here given, --he leaves the above question to the decision of the reader. At the same time, it is of no consequence in the world. The character and purport of the volume are sufficiently disclosed in the parting words of the Journalist. "It aspires," as is justly said, "to none of the appropriate interest either of a novel or a biography." It might have been very properly entitled "Theological Fragments." March 31, 1852. INTRODUCTION A GENUINE SCEPTIC A VERSATILE BELIEVER PURITAN INFIDELITY LORD HERBERT AND MODERN DEISM SOME CURIOUS PARADOXES PROBLEMS A DIALOGUE SHOWING THAT "THAT MAY BE POSSIBLE WITH MAN WHICH IS IMPOSSIBLE WITH GOD" SCEPTIC'S FAVORITE TOPICS UNSTABLE EQUILIBRIUM A SCEPTICS FIRST CATECHISM SOME LIGHT ON THE MYSTERY BELIEF AND FAITH THE "VIA MEDIA" OF DEISM A SCEPTIC'S SELECT PARTY HOW IT WAS THAT INFIDELITY PREVENTED MY BECOMING AN INFIDEL SKIRMISHES CHRISTIAN ETHICS THE BLANK BIBLE A DIALOGUE IN WHICH IT IS CONTENDED "THAT MIRACLES ARE IMPOSSIBLE, BUT THAT IT IS IMPOSSIBLE TO PROVE IT" THE ANALOGIES OF AN EXTERNAL REVELATION WITH THE LAWS AND CONDITIONS OF HUMAN DEVELOPMENT ON A PREVAILING FALLACY HISTORIC CREDIBILITY A KNOTTY POINT MEDICAL ANALOGIES HISTORIC CRITICISM THE "PAPAL AGGRESSION" PROVED TO BE IMPOSSIBLE THE PARADISE OF FOOLS A FUTURE LIFE A VARIABLE QUANTITY DISCUSSION OF THREE POINTS THE LAST EVENING THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. To E. B*****, Missionary in ------, South Pacific. Wednesday, June 18, 1851. My Dear Edward:-- You have more than once asked me to send you, in your distant solitude, my impressions respecting the religious distractions in which your native country has been of late years involved. I have refused, partly, because it would take a volume to give you any just notions on the subject; and partly, because I am not quite sure that you would not be happier in ignorance. Think, if you can, of your native land as in this respect what it was when you left it, on your exile of Christian love, some fifteen years ago. I little thought I should ever have so mournful a motive to depart in some degree from my resolution. I intended to leave you to glean what you could of our religious condition from such publications as might reach you. But I am now constrained to write something about it. My dear brother, you will hear it with a sad heart;--your nephew and mine, our only sister's only child, has, in relation to religion at least, become an absolute sceptic! I well recollect the tenderness you felt for him, doubly endeared by his own amiable dispositions and the remembrance of her whom in so many points he resembled. What must be mine, who so long stood to the orphan in the relations which his mother's love and my own affection imposed upon me! It is hardly a figure to say I felt for him as for a son. "Ah!" you will say as you glance at your own children, "my bachelor brother cannot understand that even such an affection is still a faint resemblance of parental love." It may be so. I know that that love is sui generis; and as I have often heard from those who are fathers, its depth and purity were never realized till they became such. But neither, perhaps, can you know how nearly such a love as I have felt for Harrington, committed to me in death by one I loved so well,--beloved alike for her sake and for his own,--the object of so much solicitude during his childhood and youth,--I say you can hardly, perhaps, conceive how near such an affection may approach that of a parent; how closely such a graft upon a childless stock may resemble the incorporate life of father and son. You remember what hopes we both formed of his youth, from the promise alike of his heart and of his intellect, How fondly we predicted a career of future usefulness to others, and honor and happiness to himself! You know how often I used to compare him, for the silent ease with which he mastered difficult subjects, and the versatility with which he turned his mind to the most opposite pursuits, to the youthful Theaetetus, as described in Plato's dialogue the movements of whose mind Theodorus compares to the "noiseless flow of oil" from the flask. He was just fourteen and a half when you left England; he is now, therefore, nearly twenty-nine. He left me four years ago, when he was just twenty-five,--about a year after the termination of his college course, which you know was honorable to him, and gratifying to me. He then went to spend a year, or a year and a half, as he supposed, in Germany. His stay (he was not all the time in Germany, however) was prolonged for more than three years. In the letters which I received from him, and which gradually became more rare and more brief, there was (without one symptom of decay of personal affection) a certain air of gradually increasing constraint, in relation to the subject which I knew and felt to be all-important. Alas! my prophetic soul took it aright; this constraint was the faint penumbra of a disastrous eclipse indeed! He was not, as so many profess to be, convinced by any particular book (as that of Strauss, for example) that the history of Christianity is false; nay, he declares that he is not convinced of that even now; he is a genuine sceptic, and is the subject, he says, of invincible doubts. Those doubts have extended at length to the whole field of theology, and are due principally, as he himself has owned, to the spectacle of the interminable controversies which (turn where he would) occupied the mind of Germany. Even when he returned home he does not appear to have finally abandoned the notion of the possibility of constructing some religious system in the place of Christianity;-- this, as he affirms, is a later conviction formed upon him by examining the systems of such men as have attempted the solution of the problem. He declares the result wholly unsatisfactory; that, sceptical as he was and is with regard to the truth of Christianity, he is not even sceptical with regard to these theories; and he declares that if 'the undoubtedly powerful minds which have framed them have so signally failed in removing his doubts, and affording him a rock to stand upon, he cannot prevail upon himself to struggle further. And so, instead of stopping at any of those miserable road-side inns between Christianity and scepticism, through whose ragged windows all the winds of heaven are blowing, and whose gaudy "signs" assure us there is "good entertainment within for man and beast,"-- whereas it is only for the latter,--Harrington still travelled on in hopes of finding some better shelter, and now, in the dark night, and a night of tempest too, finds himself on the open heath. To employ his own words, "he could not rest contented with one-sided theories or inconsequential reasonings, and has pursued the argument to its logical termination." He is ill at ease in mind, I hear, and not in robust health; and I am just going to visit him. I shall have some melancholy scenes with him; I feel that. Do you remember, when we were in Switzerland together, how, as we wound down the Susten and the Grimsel passes, with the perpendicular cliffs some thousand feet above us, and a torrent as many feet below, we used to shudder at the thought of two men, wrestling upon that dizzy verge, and striving to throw each other over! I almost imagine that I am about to engage in such a strife now, with the additional horror that the contest is (as one may say) between father and son. Nay, it is yet more terrible; for in such a contest there, I almost feel as if I could be contented to employ only a passive resistance. But I must here learn to school my heart and mind to an active and desperate conflict. I fear lest I should do more harm than good; and I am sure I shall if I suffer impatience and irascibility to prevail. I shall, perhaps, also hear from those lips which once addressed me only in the accents of respect and kindness, language indicative of that alienation which is the inevitable result of marked dissimilarity of sentiment and character, and which, according to Aristotle's most just description, will often dissolve the truest friendship, at all events, extinguish (just as prolonged absence will) all its vividness. So impossible is it for the full sympathies of the heart to coexist with absolute antipathy of the intellect! Nay, I shall, perhaps, have to listen to the language which I cannot but consider as "impiety" and "blasphemy," and yet keep my temper. I half feel, however, that I am doing him injustice in much of this; and I will not "judge before the time." It cannot be that he will ever cease to regard me with affection, though, perhaps, no longer with reverence; and I am confident that not even scepticism can chill the natural kindness of his disposition. I am persuaded that, even as a sceptic, he is very different from most sceptics. They cherish doubts; he will be impatient of them. Scepticism is, with them, a welcome guest, and has entered their hearts by an open door; I am sure that it must have stormed his, and entered it by a breach. "No," my heart whispers, "I shall still find you sincere, Harrington; scorning to take any unfair advantage in argument, and impatient of all sophistry, as I have ever found you. You will be fully aware of the moral significance of the conclusion at which you have arrived, --even that there is no conclusion to be arrived at; and you will be miserable,--as all must be who have your power to comprehend it." Accept this, my dear brother, as a truer delineation of my wanderer than my first thoughts prompted. But then all this will only make it the more sad to see him. Still it is a duty, and it must be done. I have not the heart at present to give more than the briefest answers to the queries which you so earnestly put to me. No doubt you were startled to find, from the French papers that reached you from Tahiti, and on no less authority than that of the "Apostolic Letter of the Pope," and Cardinal Wiseman's "Pastoral," that this enlightened country was once more, or was on the eve of becoming, a "satellite" of Rome. Subsequent information, touching the course of the almost unprecedented agitation which England has just passed through, will serve to convince you, either that Pio Nono's supplications to the Virgin and all the English saints, from St. Dunstan downwards, have not been so successful as he flattered himself that they would have been, or that the nation, if it be about to embrace Romanism, has the oddest way of showing it. It has acquired most completely the Jesuitical art of disguising its real feelings; or, as the Anglicans would say, of practising the doctrine of "reserve." To all appearance the country is more indomitably Protestant than before. Nor need you alarm yourself--as in truth you seem too much inclined to do--about the machinations and triumphs of the Tractarian party. Their insidious attempts are no doubt a graver evil than the preposterous pretensions of Rome, to which indeed they gave their only chance of success. The evil has been much abated, however by those very assumptions; for it is no longer disguised. Tractarianism is seen to be what many had proclaimed it,--the strict ally of Rome. The hopes it inspired were the causes of the Pope's presumption and of Wiseman's folly; and, by misleading them, it has, to a large extent, undone the projects both of Rome and itself. But even before the recent attempts, its successes were very partial. The degree to which the infection tainted the clergy was no criterion at all of the sympathy of the people. Too many of the former were easily converted to a system which confirmed all their ecclesiastical prejudices, and favored their sacerdotal pretensions; which endowed every youngster upon whom the bishop laid hands with "preternatural graces," and with the power of working "spiritual miracles." But the people generally were in little danger of being misled by these absurdities; and facts, even before the recent outbreak, ought to have convinced the clergy, that, if they thought proper to go to Rome, their flocks were by no means prepared to follow them. Except among some fashionable folks here and there,--young ladies to whom ennui, susceptible nerves, and a sentimental imagination made any sort of excitement acceptable; who turned their arks of embroidery and painting, and their love of music, to "spiritual" uses, and displayed their piety and their accomplishments at the same time,--except among these, I say, and those amongst the more ignorant of our rural population whom such people influenced, the Anglican movement could not boast of any signal success. In the more densely peopled districts, and amongst the middle classes especially, the failure of the thing was often most ignominious. No sooner were the candles placed upon the "altar" than the congregation began to thin; and by the time the "obsolete" rubrics were all admirably observed, the priest faultlessly arrayed, the service properly intoned, and the entire "spiritual" machine set in motion, the people were apt to desert the sacred edifice altogether. It was a pity, doubtless, that, when such admirable completeness in the ecclesiastical, equipments had been attained, it should be found that the machine would not work; that just when the Church became perfect, it should fail for so insignificant an accident as the want of a congregation. Yet so it often was. The ecclesiastical play was an admirable rehearsal, and nothing more. Not but what there are many priests who would prefer a "full service," and an ample ceremonial in an empty church, to the simple Gospel in a crowded one; like Handel, who consoled himself with the vacant benches at one of his oratorios by saying that "dey made de music sound de ner." And, in truth, if we adopt to the full the "High Church" theory, perhaps it cannot much matter whether the people be present or not; the opus operatum of magic rites and spiritual conjuration may be equally effectual. The Oxford tracts said ten years ago, "Before the Reformation, the Church recognized the seven hours of prayer; however these may have been practically neglected, or hidden in an unknown tongue, there is no estimating what influence this may have had on common people's minds secretly." Surely you must agree that there is no estimating the efficacy of nobody's hearing services which, if heard by any body, would have been in an unknown tongue. I repeat, that the people of England will never yield to Romanism, --unless, indeed, it shall hereafter be as a reaction from infidelity; just as infidelity is now spreading as a reaction from the attempted restoration of Romanism. That England is not prepared at present is sufficiently shown by the result of the recent agitation. Could it terminate otherwise? Was it possible that England, in the nineteenth century, could be brought to adopt the superstitions of the Middle Age? If she could, she would have deserved to be left to the consequences of her besotted folly. We may say, as Milton said, in his day, to the attempted restoration of superstitions which the Reformers had already cast off; "O, if we freeze at noon, after their easy thaw, let us fear lest the sun for ever hide himself, and turn his orient steps from our ungrateful horizon justly condemned to be eternally benighted." No, it is not from this quarter that England must look for the chief dangers which menace religion, except, indeed, as these dangers are the inevitable, the uniform result of every attempt to revive the obsolete past. The principal peril is from a subtle unbelief, which, in various forms, is sapping the religion of our people, and which, if not checked, will by and by give the Romish bishops a better title to be called bishops in partibus infidelium than has always been the case. The attempt to make men believe too much naturally provokes them to believe too little; and such has been and will be the recoil from the movement towards Rome. It is only one, however, of the causes of that widely diffused infidelity which is perhaps the most remarkable phenomenon of our day. Other and more potent causes are to be sought in the philosophic tendencies of the age, and especially a sympathy, in very many minds, with the worst features of Continental speculation. "Infidelity!" you will say. "Do you mean such infidelity as that of Collins and Bolingbroke, Chubb and Tindal?" Why, we have plenty of those sorts too, and--worse; but the most charming infidelity of the day, a bastard deism in fact, often assumes a different form,--a form, you will be surprised to hear it, which embodies (as many say) the essence of genuine Christianity! Yes; be it known to you, that when you have ceased to believe all that is specially characteristic of the New Testament,--its history, its miracles, its peculiar doctrine--you may still be a genuine Christian. Christianity is sublimed into an exquisite thing called modern "spiritualism." The amount and quality of "faith" are, indeed, pleasingly diversified when come to examine individual professors thereof; but it always based upon the principle that man is a light to himself; that his oracle is within; so clear either to supersede the necessity--some say even possibility--of all external revelation in any sense of that term; or, when such revelation is in some sense allowed, to constitute man the absolute arbiter how much or how little of it is worthy to be received. This theory we all perceive, of course, cannot fail to recommend itself by the well-known uniformity and distinctness of man's religious notions and the reasonableness of his religious practices! We all know there has never been any want of a revelation;--of which have doubtless had full proof among the idolatrous barbarians you foolishly went to enlighten and reclaim. I wish, however, you had known it fifteen years ago; I might have had my brother with me still. It is a pity that this internal revelation--the "absolute religion," hidden, as Mr. Theodore Parker felicitously phrases it, in all religions of all ages and nations, so strikingly avouched by the entire history of world--should render itself suspicions by little discrepancies in its own utterances among those who believe in it. Yet so it is. Compared with the rest of the world, few at the best can be got to believe in the sufficiency of the internal light and the superfluity all external revelation; and yet hardly two of the flock agree. It is the rarest little oracle! Apollo himself might envy its adroitness in the utterance ambiguities. One man says that the doctrine of "future life" is undoubtedly a dictate of the "religious sentiment,"--one of the few universal characteristics of all religion; another declares his "insight" tells him nothing of the matter; one affirms that the supposed chief "intuitions" of the "religious faculty"--belief in the efficacy of prayer, the free will of man, and the immortality of the soul--are at hopeless variance with intellect and logic; others exclaim, and surely not without reason, that this casts upon our faculties the opprobrium of irretrievable contradictions! As for those "spiritualists"--and they are, perhaps, at present the greater part--who profess, in some sense, to pay homage to the New Testament, they are at infinite variance as to how much--whether 7 1/2, 30, or 50 per cent of its records--is to be received. Very few get so far as the last. One man is resolved to be a Christian,--none more so,--only he will reject all the peculiar doctrines and all the supernatural narratives of the New Testament; another declares that miracles are impossible and "incredible, per se"; a third thinks they are neither the one nor the other, though it is true that probably a comparatively small portion of those narrated in the "book" are established by such evidence as to be worthy of credit. Pray use your pleasure in the selection; and the more freely, as a fourth is of opinion that, however true, they are really of little consequence. While many extol in vague terms of admiration the deep "spiritual insight" of the founders of Christianity, they do not trouble themselves to explain how it is that this exquisite illumination left them to concoct that huge mass of legendary follies and mystical doctrines which constitute, according to the modern "spiritualism," the bulk of the records of the New Testament, and by which its authors have managed to mislead the world; nor how we are to avoid regarding them either as superstitious and fanatical fools or artful and designing knaves, if nine tenths, or seven tenths, of what they record is all to be rejected; nor, if it be affirmed that they never did record it, but that somebody else has put these matters into their mouths, how we can be sure that any thing whatever of the small remainder ever came out of their mouths. All this, ever, is of the less consequence, as these gentlemen descend to tell us how we are to separate the "spiritual" gold which faintly streaks the huge mass of impure ore of fable, legend, and mysticism. Each man, it seems has his own particular spade and mattock in his "spiritual faculty"; so off with you to the diggings in these spiritual mines of Ophir. You will say, Why not stay at home, and be content at once, with the advocates of the absolute sufficiency of the internal oracle, listen to its responses exclusively? Ask these men--for I am sure I do not know; I only know that the results are very different--whether the possessor of "insight" listens to its own rare voice, or puts on spectacles and reads aloud from the New Testament. Generally, as I say, these good folks are resolved that all that is supernatural and specially inspired in sacred volume is to be rejected; and as to the rest, which by the way might be conveniently published as the "Spiritualists' Bible" (in two or three sheets, 48mo, say), that would still require a careful winnowing; for, while one man tells us that the Apostle Paul, in his intense appreciation of the "spiritual element," made light even of the "resurrection of Christ," and everywhere shows his superiority to the beggarly elements of history, dogma, and ritual, another declares that he was so enslaved by his Jewish prejudices and the trumpery he had picked up at the feet of Gamaliel, that he knew but little or next to nothing of the real mystery of the very Gospel he preached; that while he proclaims that it is "revealed, after having been hidden from ages generations," he himself manages to hide it afresh. This you will be told is a perpetual process, going on even now; that as all the "earlier prophets" were unconscious instruments of a purpose beyond their immediate range of thought, so the Apostles themselves similarly illustrated the shallowness of their range of thought; that, in fact, the true significance of the Gospel lay beyond them, and doubtless also, for the very same reasons, lies beyond us. In other words, this class of spiritualists tell us that Christianity is a "development," as the Papists also assert, and the New Testament its first imperfect and rudimentary product; only, unhappily, as the development, it seems, may be things so very different as Popery and Infidelity, we are as far as ever from any criterion as to which, out of the ten thousand possible developments, is the true; but it is a matter of the less consequence, since it will, on such reasoning, be always something future. "Unhappy Paul!" you will say. Yes, it is no better with him than it was in our youth some five-and-twenty years ago. Do you not remember the astute old German Professor in his lecture-room introducing the Apostle as examining with ever-increasing wonder the various contradictory systems which the perverseness of exegesis had extracted from his Epistles, and at length, as he saw one from which every feature of Christianity had been erased, exclaiming in a fright, "Was ist das?" But I will not detain you on the vagaries of the new school of spiritualists. I shall hear enough of them, I have no doubt, from Harrington; he will riot in their extravagances and contradictions as a justification of his own scepticism. In very truth their authors are fit for nothing else than to be recruiting officers for undisguised infidelity; and this has been the consistent termination with very many of their converts. Yet, many of them tell us, after putting men on this inclined plane of smooth ice, that it is the only place where they can be secure against tumbling into infidelity, Atheism, Pantheism, Scepticism. Some of Oxford Tractarians informed us, a little before Crossing the border, that their system was the surest bulwark against Romanism; and in the same way is this site "spiritualism", a safeguard against infidelity. Between many of our modern "spiritualists" and Romanists there is a parallelism of movement absolutely ludicrous. You may chance to hear both claiming, with equal fervor, against "intellect" and "logic" as totally incompetent to decide on "religion" or "spiritual" truth, and in favor of a "faith" which disclaims all alliance with them. You may chance hear them both insisting on an absolute submission to an "infallible authority" other than the Bible; the one external,--that is, the Pope; the other internal,--that is, "Spiritual Insight"; both exacting absolute submission, the one to the outward oracle, the Church, the other to the inward oracle, himself; both insisting that the Bible is but the first imperfect product of genuine Christianity, which is perfected by a "development," though as to the direction of that development they certainly do not agree. Both, if I may judge by some recent speculations, recoil from the Bible even more than they do from one another; and both would get rid of it,--one by locking it up, and the other tearing it to tatters. Thus receding in opposite directions round the circle, they are found placed side by side at the same extremity of a diameter, at the other extremity of which is the--Bible. The resemblances, in some instances, are so striking, that one is reminded of that little animal, the fresh-water polype, whose external structure is so absolutely a mere prolongation of the internal, that you may turn him inside out, and all the functions of life go on just as well as before. It is impossible to convey to you an adequate idea of the bouleversement which has taken place in our religious relations, --even in each man's little sphere. It is as if the religious world were a masquerade, where you cease to feel surprise at finding some familiar acquaintance disguised in the most fantastical costume. There is our old friend W----, rigorously, as you know, educated in his old father's Evangelical notions, ready to be a confessor for the two wax candies, even though unlighted, and to be a martyr for them if but lighted. His cousin in the opposite direction has found even the most meagre naturalism too much for him, and avows himself a Pantheist. L----, the son, you remember, of an independent minister, is ready to go nobly to death in defence of the prerogatives of his "apostolic succession"; and has not the slightest doubts that he can make out his spiritual genealogy, without a broken link, from the first Bishop of Rome, downwards!--though, poor fellow, it would puzzle him to say who was his great-grandfather. E----, you are aware, has long since joined the Church of Rome, and has disclosed such a bottomless abyss of "faith," that whole cart-loads of mediaeval fables, abandoned even by Romanists (who, by the way, stand fairly aghast at his insatiable appetite), have not been able to fill it. All the saints in the Roman Hagiography cannot work miracles as fast as he can credit them. On the other hand, his brother has signalized himself by an equal facility of stripping himself, fragment by fragment, of his early creed, till at last he walks through this bleak world in such a gossamer gauze of transparent "spiritualism," that it makes you both shiver and blush to look at him. Your old acquaintance P----, true to his youthful qualities (which now have most abundant exercise), who has the "charity which believeth all, things," though certainly not that which "bareth all things," goes about apologizing for all religious systems, and finding truth in every thing;--our beloved Harrington, on the other hand, bewildered by all this confusion, finds truth--in nothing. Yet you must not imagine that our religious maladies are at present more than sporadic; or that the great bulk of our population are at present affected by them: they still believe the Bible to be the revealed Word God. Should these diseases ever become epidemic, they will soon degenerate into a still worse type. Many apostles of Atheism and Pantheism amongst our classes say (and perhaps truly), that this modern "spiritualism" is but a transition state. In that case, you will have to recall, with a deeper meaning, the song of Byron, which you told me gave you such anguish, as you paced the deck on the evening in which lost sight of Old England,--"My native land, night!" I have sometimes mournfully asked myself, whether the world may not yet want a few experiments as to whether it cannot get on better without Christianity and the Bible; but I hope England is not destined be the laboratory. I almost envy your happier lot I picture to myself your unsophisticated folks, just reclaimed from the grossest barbarism and idolatry, receiving the simple Gospel (as it ought to be received) with grateful wonder, as Heaven's own method of making man wise and happy; reverencing the Bible as what it is,--an infallible guide through this world to a better; "a light shining in a dark place." They listen with unquestioning simplicity to its disclosures, which find an echo in their own hearts, and with a reverence which is due to a volume which has transformed them from savages into men, and from idolaters into Christians. They are not troubled with doubts of its authenticity or its divinity; with talk of various readings and discordant manuscripts; with subtle theories for proving that its miracles are legends, or its history myths, or with any other of the infinite vagaries of perverted learning. Neither are they perplexed with the assurances of those who tell them that, though divine, the Bible is, in fact, a most dangerous book, and who would request them, in their new-born enlightenment, to be pleased to shut their eyes, and to return to a religion of ceremony quite as absurd and almost as cruel as the polytheism they have renounced. I imagine you and your little flock in the Sabbath stillness of those mountains and green valleys, of which you give me such pleasant descriptions, exhibiting a specimen of a truly primitive Christianity; I imagine that the peace within is as deep as the tranquillity without. Yet I know it cannot be; for you and your flock are men,--and that one word alone suffices to dissolve the charm. You and they have cares, and worse than cares, which make you like all the rest of the world; for guilt and sorrow are of no clime, and the "happy valley" never existed except in the pages of Rasselas. You are, doubtless, plagued by every now and then finding that some half-reclaimed cannibal confesses that he has not quite got over his gloating recollections of the delicacies of his diabolical cuisine; or that fashionable converts turn with a yearning heart, not to theatres and balls, but to the "dear remembrance" of the splendors 'of tattoo and amocos; or that some unlucky wretch who has not mastered the hideous passions of his old paganism has almost battered out the brains of a fellow disciple in a sudden paroxysm of anger; or that some timid soul is haunted with half-subdued suspicions that some great goggle-eyed idol, with whose worship his whole existence has been associated, is not, what St Paul declares it is, absolutely "nothing in world." And then you vex your soul about these things, and worry yourself with apprehensions lest "you should have labored in vain and spent your strength for naught"; and lastly, trouble yourself still more lest you should lose your temper and your patience into the bargain. Yes, your scenery is doubtless beautiful, as the sketches you have sent me sufficiently show; especially that scene at the foot of the mountain Moraii or Mauroi, for I cannot quite make out the pencil-marks. But, beautiful as they are, they are not more so than those which greet my eye even now from my study window. No, there is no fault to be found with external nature; it is man only who spoils it all. I see nothing in sun, moon, or stars, in mountain, forest, or stream, that needs to be altered; we are the blot on this fair world, "O man," I am sometimes ready to exclaim, "what a--"; but I check myself, for as Correggio whispered to himself exultingly, "I also am a painter," so I, though with very different feelings, say, "I also am a man." Johnson said, that every man probably worse of himself than he certainly knows of most other men; and so I am determined that misanthropy, if is to be indulged at all, shall, like its opposite charity, "begin at home." Yet, now I think better of it, it shall not begin at all; for I recollect that HE also was a "man," who was infinitely more; who has penetrated even this cloudy shrine of clay with the effulgence of His glory and so let me resolve that our common humanity shall be held sacred for His sake, and pitied for its own. Thus ends my little, transient fit of spleen, and may it ever end. May we feel more and more, my dearest brother, the interior presence of that "guest of guests," that Divine Impersonation of Truth, Rectitude, and Love, whose image has had more power to soothe and tranquillize, stimulate and fortify, the human heart, than all the philosophies ever devised by man; who has not merely left us rules of conduct, expressed with incomparable force and comprehensiveness, and illustrated by images of unequalled pathos and beauty; who was not merely (and yet, herein alone, how superior to all other masters) the living type of His own glorious doctrine, and affects us as we gaze upon Him with that transforming influence which the studious contemplation of all excellence exerts by a necessary law of our nature; but whose Life and Death include all motives which can enforce His lessons on humanity;--motives all intensely animated by the conviction that He is a Living Personality, in communion with our own spirits, and attracted towards us by all the sympathies of a friendship truly Divine; "who can be touched with the feelings of our infirmities, though Himself without sin." May He become so familiar to our souls, that no suggestions of evil from within, no incursion of evil from without, shall be so swift and sudden that the thought of Him shall not be at least as near to our spirits, intercept the treachery of our infirm nature, and guard that throne which He alone deserves to fill; till, at every turn and every posture of our earthly life, we may realize a mental image of that countenance of divine compassion bent upon us, and that voice of gentle instruction murmuring in our ears its words of heavenly wisdom; till, whenever tempted to deviate from the "narrow path," we may hear Him whispering, "Will ye also go away?" when hated by the world,--"Ye know that it hated me before it hated you"; when called to perform some difficult duty,--"If ye love me, keep my commandments"; when disposed to make an idol of any thing on earth,--"He that loveth father or mother more than me is not worthy of me"; when in suffering and trial,--"Whom I love I rebuke and chasten"; when our way is dark,--"What I do thou knowest not now, but thou shalt know hereafter"; till, a word, as we hear His faintest footsteps approaching our hearts, and His gentle signal there according to His own beautiful image, "Behold, I stand at the door and knock," our souls may hasten to welcome the heavenly guest. So may it ever be with you and me! And now I find the very thought of these things has cured all my dark and turbulent feelings, as indeed it ever does; and I can say before I go to rest, "O man, my brother, I am at peace with thee!" Ah! what an empire is His! How, even at the antipodes, will these lines touch in your heart a chord responsive to that which vibrates in mine! .... I go to Harrington in a few days, and as our conversation (perhaps, alas! our controversies) will turn upon some of the most momentous religious topics of the day, I shall keep an exact journal--Boswellize, in fact--for you, as well as I can; and how well some of my earlier days have practised my memory for this humble office you know. I shall have a pleasure in this, not only because you will be glad to hear all I can communicate respecting one you love so well, but also because in this way, perhaps, I shall in part fulfil your earnest request to let you know the state of religion amongst us. You will expect, of course, to find only that portion of our conversations reported which relates to these subjects; but I anticipate, in discussing others, some compensation for the misery which will, I fear, attend the discussion of these. Thank your convert Outai for his present of his grim idol. It is certainly "brass for gold," considering what I sent him; but do not tell him so. If a man gives us his gods, what more can he do? And yet, it seems, he may be the richer for the loss. Never was a question more senseless than that of the idolatrous fool,--"Ye have taken away my gods, and what else have I left?" His godship was a little injured in his transit; but he was very perfect in deformity before, and his ugliness could not, by any accident, be improved. I have put him into a glass case with some stuffed birds, at which he ogles, with his great eyes, in a manner not altogether divine. His condition, therefore, is pretty nearly that to which prophecy has doomed all his tribe; if not cast to the "moles and the bats," it is to the owls and parrots. I cannot help looking at him sometimes with a sort of respect as contrasted with his worshippers; for though they have been fools enough to worship him, he has, at least, not been fool enough to worship them. Yet even they are better than the Pantheist, who must regard it and every thing else, himself included, as a fragment of divinity. I fear that, if I could regard either the Pantheist or myself as divine, nothing in the world could keep me from blasphemy every day and all day long. "Again!" you will say, "my brother; is not that old vein of bitterness yet exhausted?" But be it known to you that that last sarcasm was especially for my own behoof. She is a sly jade,--conscience; like many other folks, she has a trick of expressing her rebukes in general language; as thus: "What a contemptible set of creatures the race of men are!"--hoping that some folks will practically take it to heart. Sometimes I do; and sometimes, I suppose, like my fellows, I look very grave, and approvingly say, "It is but too true," with the air of one who philosophically assents to a proposition in which he is totally uninterested; whereupon conscience becomes outrageous and--personal. I can easily imagine what you tell me, that you hardly know the difference between the missionaries of different denominations, and are very much troubled to remember, at times, which is which. It is a natural consequence of the relations in which you stand to heathenism. I fancy the sight of men worshipping an idol with four heads and twice as many hands must considerably abate impressions of the importance some of the controversies nearer home. Do you remember the passage in "Woodstock," in which our old favorite represents the Episcopalian Rochecliffe and the Presbyterian Holdenough meeting unexpectedly in prison, after many years of separation, during which one had thought the other dead? How sincerely glad they were, and how pleasantly they talked; when lo! an unhappy reference to the "bishopric of Titus" gradually abated the fervor of their charity, and inflamed that of their zeal, even till they at last separated in mutual dudgeon, and sat glowering at each other in their distant corners with looks in which the "Episcopalian" and "Presbyterian" were much more evident than the "Christian";--and so they persevered till the sudden summons to them and their fellow-prisoners, to prepare for instant execution, dissolved as with a charm the anger they had felt, and "Forgive me, O my brother," and "I have sinned against thee, my brother," broke from their lips as they took what they thought would be a last farewell. I imagine that a feeling a little resembling this, though from a different cause, makes it impossible for you to remember, in the presence of such spiritual horrors as heathenism presents, the immense importance of many of the controversies so hotly waged at home, I can conceive (as some of our zealots would say) that you are tempted to a certain degree of insensibility and defection of heart; that you no longer discern the momentous superiority of "sprinkling" over "immersion," or of "immersion" over "sprinkling"; that the "wax candles," "lighted" and "unlighted," appear to you alike insignificant; that even the jus divinum of any system of ecclesiastical government is sometimes not discerned with absolute precision; and, in short, that you look with contemptuous wonder on half our "great controversies." If I mistake not, things are coming to that pass amongst us, that we shall soon think of them almost with contemptuous wonder too. Vale,--et ora pro me,--as old Luther used to say at the end of his letters. I will write again soon. Your affectionate Brother, F.B. ---- Grange, July 7, 1851. My Dear Brother:-- I have been with Harrington a week: I am glad to say that I was under some erroneous impressions when I wrote my letter. He is not a universal sceptic,--he is only a sceptic in relation to theological and ethical truth. "Alas!" you will say, "it is an exception which embraces more than the general rule; it little matters what else he believes." True; and yet there is consolation in it; for otherwise it would have been impossible to hold intercourse with him at all. If he had reasoned in order to prove to me that human reason cannot be trusted, or I to convince one who affirmed its universal falsity, it were hard to say whether he or I had been the greater fool. Your universal sceptic--if he choose to affect that character,--no man is it--is impregnable; his true emblem is the hedgehog ensphered in his prickles; that is, as long as you are observing him. For if you do not thus irritate his amour propre, and put him on the defensive, he will unroll himself. Speaking, reasoning, acting, like the rest of the world, on the implied truthfulness of the faculties whose falsity he affirms, he will save you the trouble of confuting him, by confuting himself. And I am glad, for another reason, that Harrington does not affect this universal scepticism: for whereas, by the confession of its greatest masters, it is at best but the play of a subtle intellect, so it does not afford a very flattering picture of an intellect that affects it. I should have been mortified, I confess, had Harrington been chargeable with such a foible. It is true that, in another aspect, all this makes the case more desperate; for his scepticism, so far as it extends, is deep and genuine; it is no play of an ingenious subtilty, nor the affectation of singularity with him;--and my prognostications of the misery which such a mind must feel from driving over the tempestuous ocean of life under bare poles, without chart or compass, are, I can see, verified. One fact, I confess, gives me hopes, and often affords me pleasure in listening to him. He is an impartial doubter; he doubts whether Christianity be true; but he also doubts whether it be false; and, either from his impatience of the theories which infidelity proposes in its place, as inspiring yet stronger doubts, or in revenge for the peace of which he has been robbed, he never seems more at home than in ridiculing the confidence and conceit of that internal oracle, which professes to solve the problems which, it seems, Christianity leaves in darkness; and in pushing the principles on which infidelity rejects the New Testament to their legitimate conclusion. I told you, in general, the origin and the progress of his scepticism. I suspect there are causes (perhaps not distinctly felt by him) which have contributed to the result These, it may be, I shall never know; but it is hardly possible not to suppose that some bitter experience has contributed to cloud, thus portentously, the brightness of his youth. Something, I am confident, in connection with his long residence abroad, has tended to warp his young intellect from its straight growth. The heart, as usual, has had to do with the logic; and "has been whispering reasons which the reason cannot comprehend." I suspect that passionate hopes have been buried,--whether in the grave, I know not. I must add, that an indirect and most potential cause, not indeed of the origination, yet of the continuance, of his state of mind, must be sought in what the world would call his good fortune. His maiden aunt by the father's side left her favorite nephew her pleasant, old-fashioned, somewhat gloomy, but picturesque and comfortable house in ---shire, about fifty or sixty acres in land, and three or four hundred a year into the bargain. Poor old lady! I heartily wish she had kept him out of possession by living to a hundred; or, dying, had left every farthing to "endow a college or a--cat." To Harrington she has left a very equivocal heritage. For with this and his little patrimony he is entirely placed above the necessity of professional life and fully qualified to live (Heaven help him!) as a gentleman;--but, unhappily, as a gentleman whose nature is deeply speculative,--whose life has been one of study,--and who has no active tastes or habits to correct the morbid portions of his character, and the dangers of his position. With his views already unsettled, he retired a few months ago to this comparative solitude; (for such it is, though the place is not many miles from the learned city of-----;) and partly from the tendencies of his own mind, partly from want of some powerful stimulus from without, he soon acquired the pernicious habit of almost constant seclusion in his library, where he revolves, as if fascinated, the philosophy of doubt, or some equally distressing themes; all which has now issued as you see. The contemplative and the active life are both necessary to man, no doubt; but in how different proportions! To live as Harrington has lived of late, is to breathe little but azote. I believe that all these ill effects would have been, though not obviated, at least early cured, had he been compelled to mingle in active life,--to make his livelihood by a profession. The bracing air of the world would have dissipated these vapors which have gathered over his soul. In very truth, I half wish that he could now be stripped of his all, and compelled to become hedger and ditcher. It would almost be a kindness to ruin him by engaging him in some of the worst railway speculations! I found him all that I had promised to find him; unchanged towards myself; sometimes cheerful, though oftener melancholy, or, at least, to all appearances ennuye; with more causticity and sarcasm in his humor, but without misanthropy; and I must add, with the same logical fairness, the same abhorrence of sophistry, which, were his early characteristics. But the journal of my visit, which I am most diligently keeping, will more fully inform you of his state of mind. F.B. JOURNAL OF A VISIT, ETC. July 1, 1851. I arrived at ----Grange this day. In the evening, as Harrington and myself were conversing in the library, I availed myself of a pause in the conversation to break the ice in relation to the topic which lay nearest my heart, by saying:-- "And so you have become, they tell me, a universal sceptic?" "Not quite," he replied, throwing one of his feet over the edge of the sofa on which he was reclining and speaking rather dogmatically (I thought) for a sceptic. "Not quite: but in relation to religion I certainly become convinced that certainty, like pride, was not made for man, and that it is in vain for man to seek it." I was amused at the contradiction of a certainty of universal uncertainty, as well as at the discovery there was nothing to be discovered. He noticed my smile, and divined its cause. "Forgive me," he said, "that, like you Christians and believers of all sorts, I sometimes find theory discordant with practice. The generality of people are, you know, a little inconsistent with their creed; suffer me to be so with mine." "I have no objection, Harrington, in the world; the more inconsistent you are, the better I shall like you; you have my free leave to be, in relation to scepticism, just what the Antinomian is in relation to Christianity or as true a sceptic as he was a true Churchman who showed his good principles, according to Dr. Johnston, by never passing a church without taking off his hat, though he never went into it; or even as Falstaff, who had forgotten 'what the inside of a church was made of.' I shall be contented indeed to see you as little attached to your no-truth, as the generality of Christians are to their truth." "I thank you," said he, a little sarcastically, "I doubt if I shall ever be able to reach so perfect a pitch of inconsistency. But are you wise, my dear uncle, in this taunt? What an argument have you suggested to me, if I thought it worth while to make use of it! How have you surrendered, without once thinking of the consequences, the practical power of Christianity!" I began to fear that there would be a good deal of sharp-shooting between us. "I have surrendered nothing," I replied. "If every thing is to be abandoned, which, though professedly the subject of man's conviction, he fails to reduce to practice, his creed will be short enough. Christianity, however, will be in no worse condition than morals, the theory of which has ever been in lamentable advance of the practice. And least of all can scepticism stand such it test, of which you have just given a passing illustration. Of this system, or rather no-system, there has never been a consistent votary, if we except Pyrrho himself; and whether he were not an insincere sceptic, the world will always be most sincerely sceptical. But forgive me my passing gibe. In wishing you to be as inconsistent as nine tenths of Christians are, I did not mean to prejudice your arguments, such as they are. I know it is not in your power to be otherwise than inconsistent; and I shall always have that argument against you, so far as it is one." "And so far as it is one," he replied, "I shall always have the same argument against you." "Be it so," I replied, "for the present: I am unwilling to engage in polemical strife with you, the very first evening on which I have seen you for so long a time. I would much rather hear a chapter of your past travels and adventures, which you know your few and brief letters--but I will not reproach you--left me in such ignorance of." He complied with my request; and in the course of conversation informed me of many circumstances which had formed steps in that slow gradation by which he had reached his present state of mind; a state which he did not affect to conceal. But still I felt sure there were other causes which he did not mention. At length I said, "You must give me the title of an old friend, --a father, Harrington, I might almost say,"--and the tears came into my eyes,--"to talk hereafter fully with you of your so certain uncertainty about the only topics which supremely affect the happiness of man." I told him, and I spoke it in no idle compliment, that I was convinced he was far enough from being one of those shallow fools who are inclined to scepticism because they shrink from the trouble of investigating the evidence; who find so much to be said for this, and much for that, that they conclude that there is no truth, simply because they are too indolent to seek it. "This," said I, "is the plea of intellectual Sybarites with whom you have nothing in common. And as little do you sympathize with those dishonest, though not always shallow thinkers, who take refuge in alleged uncertainty of evidence, because they are afraid of pursuing it to unwelcome conclusions; who are sceptics on the most singular and inconsistent of all grounds, presumption. I know you are none of these." "I am, I think, none of these," said he quietly. "You are not: and your manner and countenance proclaim it yet more strongly than your words. The only genuine effect of a sincere scepticism is and must be, not the complacent and frivolous humor which too often attaches to it, but a mournful confession of the melancholy condition to which, if true, the theory reduces the sceptic himself and all mankind." Of all the paradoxes humanity exhibits, surely there are none more wonderful than the complacency with which scepticism often utters its doubts, and the tranquillity which it boasts as the perfection of its system! Such a state of mind is utterly inconsistent with the genuine realization and true-hearted reception of the theory. On such subjects such a creature as man cannot be in doubt, and really feel his doubts, without being anxious and miserable. When I hear some youth telling me, with a simpering face, that he does not know, or pretend to say, whether there be a God, or not, or whether, if there be, He takes any interest in human affairs; or whether, if He does, it much imports us to know; or whether, if He has revealed that knowledge, it is possible or impossible for us to ascertain it; when I hear him further saying, that meantime he is disposed to make himself very easy in the midst of these uncertainties, and to await the great revelation of the future with philosophical, that is, being interpreted, with idiotic tranquillity, I see that, in point of fact, he has never entered into the question at all; that he has failed to realize the terrible moment of the questions (however they may be decided) of which he speaks with such amazing flippancy. It is too often the result of thoughtlessness; of a wish to get rid of truths unwelcome to the heart; of a vain love of paradox, or perhaps, in many cases, (as a friend of mine said,) of an amiable wish to frighten "mammas and maiden aunts." But let us be assured that a frivolous sceptic,--a sceptic indeed,--after duly pondering and feeling the doubts he professes to embrace, is an impossibility. What may be expected in the genuine sceptic is a modest hope that he may be mistaken, a desire to be confuted; a retention of his convictions as if they were a guilty secret; or the promulgation of them only as the utterance of an agonized heart, unable to suppress the language of its misery; a dread of making proselytes,--even as men refrain from exposing their sores or plague-infected garments in the eyes of the world. The least we can expect from him is that mood of mind which Pascal so sublimely says becomes the Atheist ... "Is this, then, a thing to be said with gayety? Is it not rather a thing to be said with tears as the saddest thing in the world?" The current of conversation after a while, somehow swept us round again to the point I had resolved to quit for this evening. "But since we are there," said I, "I wish you would in brief tell me why, when you doubted of Christianity, you did not stop at any of those harbours of refuge which, in our time especially, have been so plentifully provided for those who reject the New Testament? You are not ignorant, I know, of the writings of Mr. Theodore Parker, and other modern Deists. How is it that none of them even transiently satisfied you? An ingenious eclecticism founded on them has satisfied, you see, your old college friend, George Fellowes, of whom I hear rare things. He is far enough from being a sceptic," "Why," said he, laughing, "it is quite true that George is not a sceptic, He has believed more and disbelieved more, and both one and the other for less reason, than any other man I know. He used to send me the strangest letters when I was abroad, and almost every one presented him under some new phase. No, he is no sceptic. If he has rejected almost every thing, he has also embraced almost every thing; at each point in his career, his versatile faith has found him some system to replace that he had abandoned; and he is now a dogmatist par excellence, for he has adopted a theory of religion which formally abjures intellect and logic, and is as sincerely abjured by them. If the difficulties he has successively encountered had been seen all at once, I fancy he would have been much where I am. Poor George! 'Sufficient unto the day,' with him, is the theology 'thereof'! I picture him to myself going out of a morning, with his new theological dress upon him, and, chancing to meet with some friend, who protests there is some thing or other not quite 'comme il faut,' he proceeds with infinite complacency to alter that portion of his attire; the new costume is found equally obnoxious to the criticism of somebody else, and off it goes like the rest." This was a ludicrous, but not untrue, representation of George Fellows's mind; only the "friend" in the image must be supposed to mean his own wayward fancy; for he is not particularly amenable (though very amiable) to external influences. So dominant, however, is present feeling and impulse, or so deficient is he in comprehensiveness, that he often takes up with the most trumpery arguments; that is, for a few days at a time. Yet he does not want acuteness. I have known him shine strongly (as has been said of some one else) upon an angle of a subject; but he never sheds over its whole surface equable illumination. Where evidence is complicated and various, and consists of many opposing or modifying elements, he never troubles himself to compute the sum total, and strike a fair balance. He stands aghast in the presence of an objection which he cannot solve, and loses all presence of mind in its contemplation. He seldom considers whether there are not still greater objections on the other side, nor how much farther, if a principle be just, it ought to carry him. The mode in which he looks at a subject often reminds me of the way in which the eye, according to metaphysicians, surveys an extensive landscape. It sees, they say, only a point at a time, punctum visibile, which is perpetually shifting; and the impression of the whole is in fact a rapid combination, by means of memory, of perceptions all but coexistent; if the attention be strongly fixed upon some one object, the rest of the landscape comparatively fades from the view. Now George Fellowes seemed to me, in a survey of a large subject, to have an incomparable faculty of seeing the minimum visibile, and that so ardently, that all the rest of the landscape vanished at the moment from his perceptions. "Well," said I, smiling, "you must not blame him for his not reaching at once and per saltum your position. He has been more deliberate in stripping himself. Yet he has come on pretty well. You ought not to despair of him. I wonder at what point he is now." "You may ask him to-morrow," said he, "for I am expecting him here to spend a few weeks with me. At whatever point he may be in these days of 'progress,' as they are called, he does not know that I am already arrived at the ne plus ultra; for my letters to him were yet briefer and rarer than to you: and I never touched on these topics. Where would have been the use of asking counsel of such an oracle?" I said I should be glad to see him. "But I shall be still better pleased to hear from you, why you are dissatisfied with any such system as his; and especially why you say he ought in consistency to go much farther." "I am far from saying that my reasons will be satisfactory, but I will endeavor, if you wish it, to justify my opinion." "I shall certainly expect no less," replied I. "You are strangely altered, if you are willing to assert without attempting to prove; and if you were altered, I am not. When will you let me hear you?" "O, in a day or two, when I have had time to put my thoughts on paper; but, if I mistake not, some of the most important points will be discussed before that, for Fellowes, I hear, is a very knight-errant of 'spiritualism,' and it is a thousand to one but he attempts to convert me. I intend to let him have full opportunity." "I hardly know," said I. "Harrington, whether I wish him success or not. But one thing, surely, all must admire in him: I mean his candor. What less than this can prompt him, after abandoning with such extraordinary facility so many creeds and fragments of creeds, after travelling round the whole circle of theology, to confess with such charming simplicity the whole history of his mental revolutions, and expose himself to the charge of unimaginable caprice,--of theological coquetry? I protest to you that, a priori, I should have thought it impossible that any man could have made so many and such violent turns in so short a time without a dislocation of all the joints of his soul.--without incurring the danger of a 'universal anchylosis.'" "One would imagine," said Harrington, with a laugh, "that, in your estimate, his mind resembles that ingenious toy by which the union of the various colored rays of light is illustrated: the red, the yellow, the blue, the green, and so forth, are distinctly painted on the compartments of a card: but no sooner are they put into a state of rapid revolution than the whole appears white. Such, it seems, is the appearance of George Fellowes in that rapid gyration to which he been subjected: the part-colored rays of his various creeds are lost sight of and the pure white of his 'candor' is alone visible!" "For myself," said I, "I feel in some measure incompetent to pronounce on his present system. When I saw him for a short time a few months ago, he told that, though his versatility of faith had certainly been great, he must remind me (as Mr. Newman had said) that he had seen both sides; that persons like myself, for example, have had but one experience; whereas he has had two." "If he were to urge me with such an argument," replied Harrington, "I should say we are even then. But I think even you could reply: 'You yourself injustice, Mr. Fellowes, in saying you have had two experiences. You have had two dozen, at least; but whether that can qualify you for speaking with any authority on these subjects I much doubt; to give any weight to the opinions of any man some stability at least is necessary.'" This I could not gainsay. Slow revolutions on momentous subjects, when there has been much sobriety as well as diligence of investigation, are, perhaps, not despised as authority. Some superior weight may even be attached to the later and maturer views. But man changes them every other day; if they rise and fall with the barometer; if his whole life has been one rapid pirouette, it is impossible with gravity to discuss the question, whether at some point he may not have been right. Whoever be in the right, he cannot well be who has never long been any thing; and to take such a man for a guide would be almost as absurd as to mistake a weathercock for a signpost. "In seeking religious counsel of George Fellows," said Harrington. "I should feel much as Jeannie Deans, when she went to the Interpreter's House.' as Madge Wildfire calls it, in company with that fantastical personage. But he is a kind-hearted, amiable fellow, and, in short, I cannot help liking him." ____ July 2. Mr. Fellowes arrived this day about noon. He is about a year younger than Harrington. The afternoon was spent very pleasantly in general conversation. In the evening, after tea, we went into the library. I told the two friends that, as they had doubtless much to talk of, and as I had plenty of occupation for my pen, I would sit down at an adjoining table with my desk, and they might go on with their chat. They did so, and for some time talked of old college days and on indifferent subjects; but my attention was soon irresistibly attracted by finding them getting into conversation in which, on Harrington's account, I felt a deeper interest. I found my employment impossible, and yet, desiring to hear them discuss their theological differences without constraint, I did not venture to interrupt them. At last the distraction became intolerable; and, looking up, I said, "Gentlemen, I believe you might talk on the most private matters without my attending to one syllable you said; but if you get upon these theological subjects, such is my present interest in them," glancing at Harrington, "that I shall be perpetually making blunders in my manuscript. Let me beg of you to avoid them when I am with you, or let me go into another room." Harrington would not hear of the last; and as to the first he said, and said truly, that it would impede the free current of conversation, "which," said he, "to be pleasurable at all, must wind hither and thither as the fit takes us. It is like a many-stringed lyre, and to break any one of the chords is to mar the music. And so, my good uncle, if you find us getting upon these topics, join us; we shall seldom be long at a time upon them. I will answer for it; or if you will not do that, and yet, though disturbed by our chatter, are too polite to show it, why, amuse yourself (I know your old tachygraphic skill, which used to move my wonder in childhood), I say, amuse yourself, or rather avenge yourself, by jotting down some fragments of our absurdities, and afterwards showing us what a couple of fools we have been." I was secretly delighted with the suggestion; and, when the subjects of dispute were very interesting, threw aside my work, whatever it was, and reported them pretty copiously. Hence the completeness and accuracy of this admirable journal. I cannot of course always, or even often, vouch for the ipsissima verba; and some few explanatory sentences I have been obliged to add. But the substance of the dialogues is faithfully given. I need not say, that they refer only to subjects of a theological and polemical nature. I hardly know how the conversation took the turn it did on the present occasion; but I think it was from Mr. Fellowes's noticing Harrington's pale looks, and conjecturing all sorts of reasons for his occasional lapses into melancholy. His friend hoped this and hoped that, as usual. Harrington at last, seeing his curiosity awakened, and that he would go on conjecturing all sorts of things, said, "To terminate your suspense, be it known to that I am a bankrupt!" "A bankrupt!" said the other, with evident alarm; "you surely have not been so unwise as to risk recently acquired property, or to speculate in----" "You have hit it," said Harrington; "I have speculated far more deeply than you suppose." The countenance of his friend lengthened visibly. "Be not alarmed." resumed Harrington, with a smile; "I mean that I have speculated a good deal in--philosophy, and when I said I was a bankrupt, I meant only that I was a bankrupt--in faith; having become in fact, since I saw you last, thoroughly sceptical." The countenance of Fellowes contracted to its proper dimensions. He looked even cheerful to find that his friend had merely lost his faith, and not his fortune. "Is that all?" said he, "I am heartily glad to hear it. Sceptic! No, no; you must not be a sceptic either, except for a time," continued he, musing very sagely. "It is no bad thing for a while: for it at least leaves the house 'empty, swept and garnished.'" "Rather an unhappy application of your remnant of Biblical knowledge," said Harrington; "I hope you do not intend to go on with the text." "No, no, my dear friend; I warrant you we shall find you worthier guests than any such fragments of supposed revelation. If you are in 'search of a religion,' how happy should I be to aid you!" "I shall be infinitely obliged to you," said Harrington, gravely; "for at present I do not know that I possess a farthing's worth of solid gold in the world. Ah! that it were but in your power to lend me some: but I fear" (he added half sarcastically) "that you have not got more than enough for yourself. I assure you that I am far from happy." He spoke with so much gravity, that I hardly knew whether to attribute it to some intention of dissembling a little with his friend, or to an involuntary expression of the experience of a mind that felt the sorrows of a genuine scepticism. It might be both. However, it brought things to a crisis at once. His college friend looked equally surprised and pleased at his appeal. "I trust," said he, with becoming solemnity, "that all this is merely a temporary reaction from having believed too much; the languor and dejection which attend the morrow after a night's debauch. I assure you that I rejoice rather than grieve to hear that you have curtailed your orthodoxy. It has been just my own case, as you know: only I flatter myself, that, perhaps having less subtilty than you, I have not passed the 'golden mean' between superstition and scepticism,--between believing too much and believing too little." I looked up for a moment. I saw a laugh in Harrington's eyes, but not a feature moved. It passed away immediately. "I tell you," said he, "that I believe absolutely no one religious dogma whatever; while yet I would give worlds, if I had them, to set my foot upon a rock. I should even be grateful to any one, who, if he did not give me truth, gave me a phantom of it, which I could mistake for reality." He again spoke with an earnestness of tone and manner, which convinced me that, if there were any dissimulation, it cost him little trouble. "If you merely meant," said Fellowes, "that you do not retain any vestige of your early 'historical' and 'dogmatical' Christianity, why, I retain just as little of it. Indeed, I doubt," he continued, with perhaps superfluous candor, "whether I ever was a Christian"; and he seemed rather anxious to show that his creed had been nominal. "If it will save you the trouble of proving it." said Harrington, "I will liberally grant you both your premises and your conclusion, without asking you to state the one or prove the other." "Well, then, Christian or no Christian. there was a time, at all events, when I was orthodox, you will grant that; when I should hate been willing to sign the Thirty-nine Articles: or three hundred and thirty-nine; or the Confession of Faith: or any other compilation, or all others; though perhaps, if strictly examined, I might have been found in the condition of the infidel Scotch professor, who, being asked on his appointment to his Chair, whether the 'Confession of Faith' contained all that he believed, replied, 'Yes, Gentlemen, and a great deal more.' I have rejected all 'creeds'; and I have now found what the Scripture calls that 'peace which passeth all understanding.'" "I am sure it passes mine," said Harrington, "if you really have found it, and I should be much obliged to you if you would let me participate in the discovery." "Yes," said Fellowes, "I have been delivered from the intolerable burden of all discussions as to dogma, and all examinations of evidence. I have escaped from the 'bondage of the letter,' and have been Introduced into the 'liberty of the spirit.'" "Your language, at all events, is richly Scriptural," said Harrington; "it is as though you were determined not to leave the 'letter' of the Scripture, even if you renounce the 'spirit' of it." "Renounce the spirit of it! say rather, that in fact I have only now discovered it. Though no Christian in the ordinary sense, I am, I hope, something better; and a truer Christian in the spirit than thousands of those in the letter." "Letter and spirit! my friend," said Harrington, "you puzzle me exceedingly; you tell me one moment that you do not believe in historical Christianity at all, either its miracles or dogmas,--these are fables; but in the next, why, no old Puritan could garnish such discourse with a more edifying use of the language of Scripture. I suppose you will next tell me that you understand the 'spirit' of Christianity better even than Paul." "So I do," said our visitor complacently, "'Paulo majora canamus'; for after all he was but half delivered from his Jewish prejudices; and when he quitted nonsense of the Old Testament,--though in fact he never did thoroughly,--he evidently believed the fables of the New just as much as the pure truths which lie at the basis of 'spiritual' Christianity. We separate the dross of Christianity from its fine gold. 'The letter killeth, but the spirit giveth life,'--'the fruit of the spirit is joy, peace,' not---" "Upon my word," said Harrington, laughing, "I shall begin to fancy presently that Douce Davie Deans has turned infidel, and shall expect to hear of 'right-hand failings off and left-hand defections.' But tell me, if you would have me think you rational, is not your meaning this:--that the New Testament contains, amidst an infinity of rubbish, the statement of certain 'spiritual' truths which, and which alone, you recognize." "Certainly." "But you do not acknowledge that these are derived from the New Testament." "Heaven forbid; they are indigenous to the heart of man, and are anterior to all Testaments, old or new." "Very well; then speak of them as your heart dictates, and do not, unless you would have the world think you a hypocrite, willing to cajole it with the idea that you are a believer in the New Testament, while you in fact reject it, or one of the most barren uninventive of all human beings, or fanatically fond of mystical language,--do not, I say, affect this very unctuous way of talking. And, for another reason, do not. I beseech you, adopt the phraseology of men who, according to your view, must surely have been either the most miserable fanatics or the most abominable impostors; for if they believed all that system of miracle and doctrine they professed, and this were not true, they were certainly the first; and if they did not believe it. They were as certainly the second." "Pardon me; I believe them to have been eminently holy men,--full of spiritual wisdom and of a truly sublime faith, though conjoined with much ignorance and credulity, which it is unworthy of us to tolerate." "Whether it could be ignorance and credulity on your theory," retorted Harrington, "is to my mind very doubtful. Whether any men can untruly affirm that they saw and did the things the Apostles say they saw and did, and yet be sincere fanatics, I know not; but even were it so, since it shows (as do also the mystical doctrines you reject as false) that they could be little less than out of their senses; and as you further say that the spiritual sentiments you retain in common with them were no gift of theirs, but are yours and all mankind's, by original inheritance, uttered by the oracle of the human heart before any Testaments were written,--why, speak your thoughts in your own language." "Ay, but how do we know that these original Christians said that they had seen and done the things you refer to? which of course they never did see and do, because they were miraculous. How do we know what additions and corruptions as to fact, and what disguises of mystical doctrine, 'the idealizing biographers and historians' (as Strauss truly calls them) may have accumulated upon their simple utterances?" "And how do you know, then, whether they ever uttered these simple 'utterances'? or whether they are not part of the corruptions? or how can you separate the one from the other? or how can you ascertain these men meant what you mean, when you thus vilely copy their language?" "Because I know these truths independently of Bible, to be sure." "Then speak of them independently of the Bible. If you profess to have broken the stereotype-plates of the 'old revelation' and delivered mankind from their bondage, do not proceed to express yourself only in fragments from them; if you profess freedom of soul, and the possession of the pure truth, do not appear to be so poverty-stricken as to array your thoughts in the tatters of the cast-off Bible." "Ay, but the 'saints' of the Bible," replied Fellows, "are, even by Mr. Frank Newman's own confession, those who have entered, after all, most profoundly the truths of spiritual religion, and stand almost alone in the history of the world in that respect." "If it be so, it is certainly very odd, considering the mountain-loads of folly, error, fable, fiction, from which their spiritual religion did not in your esteem defend them, and which you say you are obliged to reject. It is a phenomenon of which, I think, you are bound to give some account." "But what is there so wonderful in supposing them in possession of superior 'spiritual' advantages, with mistaken history and fallacious logic, and so forth?" "Why" answered Harrington, "one wonder is, that they alone, and amidst such gross errors, should possess these spiritual advantages. But it also appears to me that your notions of the 'spiritual' are not the same theirs, for you reject the New Testament dogmas as well as its history; if so, it is another reason for not misleading us by using language in deceptive senses. But, at all events, I cannot help pitying your poverty of thought, or poverty of expression,--one or both; and I beg you, for my sake, if not for your own, to express your thoughts as much as possible in your own terms, and avail yourself less liberally of those of David and Paul, whose language ordinary Christians will always associate with another meaning, and can never believe you sincere in supposing that it rightfully expresses the doctrines of your most; spiritual' infidelity. They will certainly hear your Scriptural and devout language with the same feelings with which they would nauseate that most oppressive of all odors, --the faint scent of lavender in the chamber of death. My good uncle here, who cannot be prevailed upon to reject the Bible will not, I am sure, hear you, without supposing that you resemble those Rationalists of whom Menzel says, 'These gentlemen smilingly taught their theological pupils that unbelief was the true apostolic, primitive Christian belief; they put all their insipidities into Christ's month, and made him, by means of their exegetical jugglery, sometimes a Kantian, sometimes a Hegelian, sometimes one ian and sometimes another, 'wie es dem Herrn Professor beliebt': neither will he be able to imagine that you are not resorting to this artifice for the same purpose. 'The Bible,' says Menzel, 'and their Reason being incompatible, why do they not let them remain separate? Why insist on harmonizing things which do not, and never can harmonize? It is because they are aware that the Bible has authority with the people; otherwise they would never trouble themselves about so troublesome a book.' I cannot suspect you of such hypocrisy; but I must confess I regard your language as cant. As I listen to you I seem to see a hybrid between Prynne and Voltaire. So far from its being true that you have renounced the 'letter' of the Bible and retained its 'spirit,' I think it would be much more correct to say, comparing your infidel hypothesis with your most spiritual dialect, that you have renounced the 'spirit' of the Bible and retained its 'letter.'" "But are you in a condition to give an opinion?" said Fellowes, with a serious air. "Mr. Newman says in a like case, 'The natural man discerneth not things of the spirit of God, because they are foolishness unto him'; it is the 'spiritual man only who search the deep things of God.' At the same time I freely acknowledge that I never could see my way clear to employ an argument which looks so arrogant; and the less, as I believe, with Mr. Parker, that the only revelation is in all men alike. Yet, on the other hand, I cannot doubt my own consciousness." "Why, no man doubts his own consciousness," said Harrington, laughing. "The question is, What is its value? What is the criterion of universal 'spiritual truth,' if there be any? Those words in Paul's mouth were well, and had a meaning. In yours, I suspect they would have none, or a very different one. He dreamt that he was giving to mankind (vainly, as seems) a system of doctrines and truths which were, many of them, transcendental to the human intellect and conscience, and which when revealed were very distasteful (and not least to you); but the assertion of a spiritual monopoly would assuredly sound rather odd in one who professes, if I understand you, that has given to man (for it is no discovery of any individual) an internal and universal revelation! But of your possible limitations of your universal spiritual revelation,--which all men 'naturally' possess, but which the 'natural man' receiveth not,--we will talk after. Sceptic as I am, I am not a sceptic who is reconciled to scepticism. Meantime, you reject the Bible in toto, as an external revelation of God, if I understand you." "In toto; and I believe that it has received in this age its death-blow." "Ay, that is what the infidel has been always promising us; meantime, they somehow perish, and it laughs at them. You remember, perhaps, the words of old Woolston, so many fragments of whose criticism, as those of many others, have been incorporated by Strauss. He had, as he elegantly expresses it, 'cut out such a piece of work for the Boylean lectures as should hold them tug as long as the ministry of the letter should last'; for he too, you see, masked his infidelity by a distinction between the 'letter' and the 'spirit,' though he applied the convenient terms in a totally different sense. Poor soul! The fundamental principles of his infidelity are surrendered by Strauss himself. Similarly, a score of assailants of the Bible have appeared and vanished since his day; each proclaiming, just as he himself went to the bottom, that he had given the Bible its death-blow! Somehow, however, that singular book continues to flourish, to Propagate itself, to speak all languages, to intermingle more and more with the literature of all civilized nations; while mankind will not accept, slaves as they are, the intellectual freedom you offer them. It is really very provoking; of what use is it to destroy the Bible so often, when it lives the next minute? I have little doubt your new attempts will end just like the labors of the Rationalists of the Paulus school, so graphically described by the German writer whom I have already referred to. 'It is sad, no doubt,' says he, or something to the same effect, 'that, after fifty years' exegetical grubbing, weeding, and pruning at 'the mighty primitive forest of the Bible, the next generation should persist in saying that the Rationalist had destroyed the forest only in his own addled imagination, and that it is just as it was.'" "Yes; but the new weapons will not be so easily evaded as those of a past age." "Will they not? We shall see. You must not prophesy; in that, you know, you do not believe." "No; but nevertheless we shall see so-called sacred dogma and history exploded, for Mr. Newman--" "Thinks so, of course; and he must be right, because he has never been known to be wrong in any of his judgments, or even to vary in them. But we have had enough, I think, of these subjects this evening, and it is too bad to give you only a controversial welcome. I want to have some conversation with you about very different things, and more pleasant just now. We shall have plenty of opportunity to discuss theological points." To this Fellowes assented: they resumed general conversation, and I finished my letters. ---- July 3. We were all sitting, as on the previous day, in the library. "Book-faith!" I heard Harrington say, laughing; "why, as to that I must needs acknowledge that the whole school of Deism, 'rational' or 'spiritual,' have the least reason in the world to indulge in sneers at book-faith; for, upon my word, their faith has consisted in little else. Their systems are parchment religions, my friend, all of them;--books, books, for ever, from Lord Herbert's time downwards, are all they have yet given to the world. They have ever been boastful and loud-tongued, but have done nothing; there are no great social efforts, no organizations, no practical projects, whether successful or futile, to which they can point. The old 'book-faiths' which you venture to ridicule have been something at all events; and, in truth, I can find no other 'faith' than what is somehow or other attached to a 'book,' which has been any thing influential. The Vedas, the Koran, the Old Testament Scriptures,-- those of the New,--over how many millions have these all reigned! Whether their supremacy be right or wrong, their doctrine true or false, is another question; but your faith, which has been book-faith and lip-service par excellence, has done nothing that I can discover. One after another of your infidel Reformers passes away, and leaves no trace behind, except a quantity of crumbling 'book-faith.' You have always been just on the eve of extinguishing supernatural fables, dogmas, and superstitions,--and then regenerating the world! Alas! the meanest superstition that crawls laughs at you; and, false as it may be, is still stronger than you." "And your sect," retorted Fellowes, rather warmly, "if you come to that, is it not the smallest of all? Is that likely to find favor in the eyes of mankind?" "Why, no," said Harrington, with provoking coolness; "but then it makes no pretensions to any thing of the kind. It were strange if it did; for as the sceptic doubts if any truth can be certainly attained by man on those subjects on which the 'rational' or the 'spiritual' deist dogmatizes, it of course professes to be incapable of constructing any thing." "And does construct nothing," retorted Fellowes. "Very true," said Harrington, "and therein keeps its word; which is more, I fear, than can be said with your more ambitious spiritualists, who profess to construct, and do not." "But you must give the school of spiritualism time: it is only just born. You seem to me to be confounding the school of the old, dry, logical deism with the young, fresh, vigorous, earnest school' which appeals to 'insight' and 'intuition.'" "No," said Harrington, "I think I do not confound. The first and the best of our English deists derived his system as immediately from intuitions as Mr. Parker or you. You know how it sped--or, if you do not, you may easily discover--with his successors: they continually disputed about it, curtailed it, added to it, altered it, agreed in nothing but the author's rejection of Christianity, and forgot more and more the decency of his style. So will it be with your Mr. Newman and his successors. They will acquiesce in his rejection Christianity; depend upon it, in nothing more. He may get his admirers to abandon the Bible, but they will have naught to do with the 'loves, and joys, and sorrows, and raptures, which he describes in the 'Soul'; they would just as soon read the 'Canticles.'" "I really cannot admit," said Fellowes, "that we modern spiritualists are to be confounded with Lord Herbert." "Not confounded with him, certainly," replied Harrington, "but identified with him you may be; except to be sure, that he was convinced of the immortality of man as one of the few articles of all religion; while many of you deny, or doubt it. The doctrines--" "Call them sentiments, rather; I like that term better." "O, certainly, if you prefer it; only be pleased to observe that a sentiment felt is a fact, and a fact is a truth, and a truth may surely be expressed in a proposition. That is all I am anxious about at present. If so far, at least, we may not patch up the divorce which Mr. Newman has pronounced between the 'intellect and the 'soul,' it is of no use for us to talk about the matter. I say that Lord Herbert's articles--" "There again, 'articles,'" said Fellowes; "I hate the word; I could almost imagine that you were going to recite the formidable Thirty-nine." "Rather, from your outcry, one would suppose I was about to inflict the forty save one: but do not be alarmed. The articles neither of Lord Herbert's creed nor of your own, I suspect, are thirty-nine, or any thing like it. The catalogue will be soon exhausted." "Here again, 'creed': I detest the word. We have no creed. Your very language chills me. It reminds me of the dry orthodoxy of the 'letter,' 'logical processes,' 'intellectual propositions,' and so forth. Speak of 'spiritual truths' and 'sentiments,' which are the product of immediate 'insight,' of 'an insight into God,' a 'spontaneous impression on the gazing soul,' to adopt Mr. Newman's beautiful expressions, and I shall understand you." "I am afraid I shall hardly understand myself then," cried Harrington. "But let us not be scared by mere words, nor go into hysterics at the sound of 'logic' and 'creed,' lest 'sentimental spirituality' be found, like some other 'sentimental' things, a bundle of senseless affectations." "But you forget that there is all the difference in the world between Herbert and his deistical successors. They connected religion with the 'intellectual and sensational,' and we with the 'instinctive and emotional' sides of human nature." "If you think," said the other, "(the substance of your religious system being, as I believe, precisely the same as that of Lord Herbert and the better deists,) that you can make it more effective than it has been in the past, by conjuring with the words 'sensational and intellectual,' 'instinctive and emotional,' or that the mixture of chalk and water will be more potent with one label than with the other, I fancy you will find yourself deceived. The distinctions you refer to have to do with the theory of the subject, and will make din enough, no doubt, among such as Mr. Newman and yourself; but mankind at large will be unable even to enter into the meaning of your refinements. They will say briefly and bluntly, 'What are the truths, whether, as Lord Herbert says, they are "innate," or, as you say, "spiritual intuitions," (we care nothing for the phraseology of either or both of you,) which are to be admitted by universal humanity, and to be influential over the heart and conscience?' Now, I suspect that, when you come to the enumeration of these truths, your system and that of Lord Herbert will be found the same; only as regards the immortality of the soul his tone is firmer than perhaps I shall find yours. But I admit the policy of a change of name: 'Rationalist' and 'Deist' have a bad sound; 'Spiritualist' is a better nom de guerre for the present." "We shall never understand one another," said Fellowes: "the spiritual man--" "Pshaw!" said Harrington; "you can immediately bring the matter to the test by telling me what you maintain, and then I shall know whether your system is or is not identical with Lord Herbert's; or rather tell me what you do not believe, and let us come to it that way. Do you believe a single shred of any of the supernatural narratives of the Old and New Testament?" "No," said Fellowes; "a thousand times no." "Very well, that gets rid of at least four sevenths of the Bible. Do you believe in the Trinity, the Atonement, the Resurrection of Christ, in a general Resurrection, in the Day of Judgment?" "No, not in one of them," said Fellowes; "not in a particle of one of them." "Pretty well again. You reject, then, the characteristic doctrines of Christianity?" "Not one of them," was the answer. "We are indeed in danger of misunderstanding one another," said Harrington. "But tell me, is it not your boast, as of Mr. Parker, that the truths which are essential to religion are not peculiar to Christianity, but are involved in all religions?" "Assuredly." "If I were to ask you what were the essential attributes of a man, would you assign those which he had in common with a pig?" "Certainly not." "But if I asked you what were those of an animal, I presume you would give those which both species possessed, and none that either possessed exclusively." "I should." "Need I add, then, that you are deceiving yourself when you say that you believe all the characteristic doctrines of Christianity, since you say that you believe only those which it has in common with every religion? If I were to ask you what doctrines are essential to constitute any religion, then you would do well to enumerate those which belong to Christianity and every other. But when we talk of the doctrines peculiar to Christianity, we mean those which discriminate it from every other, and not those which are common to it with them." "But however," said Fellowes, "none of the doctrines you have enumerated are a part of Christianity, but are mere additions of imposture or fanaticism." "Then what are the doctrines which, though common to every other religion, are characteristic of it? What is left that is essential or peculiar to Christianity, when you have denuded it of all that you reject? Is it not then assimilated, by your own confession, to every other religion? How shall we discriminate them?" "By this, perhaps," said Fellowes, "(for I acknowledge some difficulty here,) that Christianity contains these truths of absolute religion alone and pure. As Mr. Parker says, This is the glory of genuine Christianity." "Do you not see that this is the very question,--you yourself being obliged to reject nine tenths of the statements in the only records in which we know anything about it? Might not an ancient priest of Jupiter say the same of his religion, by first divesting it of all but that which you say it had in common with every other? However, let us now look at the positive side. What is the residuum which you condescend to leave to your genuine Christianity?" "Christianity," said Fellowes, rather pompously, "is not so much a system as a discipline,--not a creed, but a life: in short, a divine philosophy." "All which I have heard from all sorts of Christianity a thousand times," cried Harrington; "and it is delightfully vague; it may mean any thing or nothing. But the truths, the truths, what are they, my friend? I see I must get them from you by fragments. Your faith includes, I presume, a belief in one Supreme God, who is a Divine Personality; in the duty of reverencing, loving, and obeying him,--whether you know how that is to be done or not; that we must repent of our sins,--if indeed we duly know what things are sins in his sight; that he will certainly forgive to any extent on such repentance, without any mediation; that perhaps there is a heaven hereafter; but that it is very doubtful if there are any punishments." "I do believe," said Fellowes, "these are the cardinal doctrines of the 'Absolute Religion,' as Mr. Parker calls it. Nor can I conceive that any others are necessary." "Well," said Harrington, "with the exception of the immortality of the soul, on which Lord Herbert has the advantage of speaking a little more firmly, the Deists and such 'spiritualists' as you are assuredly identical. I have simply abridged his articles. The same project as yours spiritualism' or 'naturalism,' in all its essential features, has been often tried before, and found wanting; that is, of guaranteeing to man a sufficient and infallible internal oracle, independent of all aid from external revelation, and of proving that he has, in effect, possessed and enjoyed it always; only that, by a slight inadvertence (I suppose), he did not know it. The theory, indeed, is rather suspiciously confined to those who have previously had the Bible. No such plenary confidence is found in the ancient heathen philosophers, who, in many not obscure places, acknowledge that the path of mortal man, by his internal light, is a little dim. Many, therefore, say, that the 'Naturalists' and 'Spiritualists' are but plagiarists from the Bible, and of course, like other plagiarists, depreciate the sources from which they have stolen their treasures. I think unjustly; for, whatever their obligations to that mutilated volume, I acknowledge they have transformed Christianity quite sufficiently to entitle themselves to the praise of originality; and if the Battle of the Books were to be fought over again, I doubt whether Moses or Paul would think it worth while to make any other answer than that of Plato in that witty piece, to the Grub Street author, who boasted that he had not been in the slighest deuce indebted to the classics: Plato declared that, upon his honor, he believed him! Whether the successors of the Herberts and Tindals of a former day are not plagiarists from them, is another question, and depends entirely upon whether the writings of their predecessors are sufficiently known to them. Probably, the hopeless oblivion which, for the most part, covers them (for the perverse world has been again and again assured of its infallible internal light, and has persisted in denying that it has it) will protect our modern authors from the imputation of plagiarism; but that the systems in question are essentially identical can hardly admit of doubt. The principal difference is as to the organon by which the revelation affirmed to be internal and universal is apprehended; it affects the metaphysics of the question, and, like all metaphysics, is characteristically dark. But about this you will not get the mass of mankind to, any more than you can get yourselves to agree; no, nor will you agree even about the system itself. Nay, you modern spiritualists, just as the elder deists, are already quarrelling about it. In short, the universal light in man's soul flickers and wavers most abominably." "I see," said Fellowes, "you are profoundly prejudiced against the spiritualists." "I believe not," said Harrington; "the worst I wish them is that they may be honest men, and appear what they really are." "I suppose next," exclaimed the other, "you will attribute to the modern spiritualists the scurrility of the elder deists,--of Woolston, Tindal, and Collins?" "No," said Harrington, "I answer no; nor do I (remember) compare Lord Herbert in these respects with his successors. He was an amiable enthusiast; in many respects resembling Mr. Newman himself. Do you remember, by the way, how that most reasonable rejecter of all 'external' revelation prayed that he might be directed by Heaven whether he should publish or not publish his 'book'? about which, if Heaven was very solicitous, this world has since been very indifferent. Having distinctly heard 'a sound as of thunder,' on a very 'calm and serene day,' he immediately received it as a preternatural answer to prayer, and an indubitable sign of Heaven's concurrence'." "No such taint of superstition, however, will be found clinging to Mr. Newman. He has most thoroughly abjured all notion of an external revelation; nay, he denies the possibility of a 'book-revelation of spiritual and moral truth'; and I am confident that his dilemma on that point is unassailable." "Be it so," answered Harrington; "you will readily suppose I am not inclined to contest that point very vigorously; yet I confess that, as usual, my inveterate scepticism leaves me in some doubts. Will you assist me in resolving them?--but not to-night; let us have a little more talk about old college days,--or what say you to a game at chess?" ____ July 4. I thought this day would have passed off entirely without polemics; but I was mistaken. In the evening Harrington, after a very cheerful morning, relapsed into one of his pensive moods. Conversation flagged; at last I heard Fellowes say, "I have this advantage of you, my friend, that my sentiments have, at all events, produced that peace of which you are in quest, and which your countenance at times too plainly declares you not to possess. If you had it, you would not take so gloomy a view of things. Like him from whom I have derived some of my sentiments, I have found that they tend to make me a happier man. The Christian, like yourself, looks upon every thing with a jaundiced or distorted eye, and is apt to underrate the claims and pleasures of this present scene of our existence. I can truly say that I now enter into them much more keenly than I could when I was an orthodox Christian. I can say with Mr. Newman, I now, with deliberate approval, 'love the world and the things of the world.' The New Testament, as Mr. Newman says, bids us watch perpetually, not knowing whether the Lord will return at cock-crowing or midday; 'that the only thing worth spending one's energies on, is the forwarding of men's salvation.' Now I must say with him, that, while I believed this, I acted an eccentric and unprofitable part." "Only then?" said Harrington. "You were fortunate." "He says, that to teach the certain speedy destruction of earthly things, as the New Testament does, is to cut the sinews of all earthly progress; to declare against intellect and imagination, against industrial and social advancement." My gravity was hardly equal to the task of listening to the first part of Mr. Fellowes's speech. To hear that the common and just reproach against all mankind, but especially against all Christians, of taking too keen an interest in the present, was in a large measure at least founded upon a mistake; to find, in fact, that there was some danger of an excessive exaggeration of the claims of the future, which required a corrective; that the Christian world, owing to the above pernicious doctrine, might possibly evince too faint a relish for the pleasures or too diminished an estimate for the advantages of the present life; that, their "treasure being in heaven," it was not impossible but "their heart" might be too much there also,--there, perhaps, when it was imperatively demanded in the counting-house, on the hustings, at the mart or the theatre; all this, being, as I say, so notoriously contrary to ordinary opinion and experience, seemed to me so exquisitely ludicrous that I could hardly help bursting into laughter, especially as I imagined one of our new "spiritual" doctors ascending the pulpit under the new dispensation, to indulge in exhortations to a keener chase, of this world, and "the things of this world." I found afterwards similar thoughts were passing through Harrington's mind, rendered more whimsical by the recollection that, during college life, his friend (though very far from vicious) had certainly never seemed to take any deficient interest in the affairs of this world, nor to exhibit any predilection for an ascetic life. Indeed, he acknowledged that, after all, he could not sympathize with Mr. Newman's extreme sensitiveness in relation to this matter. (See Phases, p. 205.) Harrington answered, with proper gravity, "I am glad to find that any undue austerity of character--of which, however, I assure you, upon my honor, I never suspected you--has received so invaluable a corrective. Still, it is obvious to remark, that, if the chief effect of this new style of religion is to abate any excessive antipathy which the New Testament has fostered, or was likely to foster, to the attractions of this life, it has, I conceive, an easy task. I never remarked in Christians any superfluous contempt of the present world or its pleasures; any indication of an extravagant admiration of any sublimer objects of pursuit. In truth, the tendencies of human nature, as it appears to me, are so strong the other way, that the strongest language of a hundred New Testaments would be little heeded. Your corrective is something like that of a moralist who should seriously prove that man was to take care that his appetites and passions are duly indulged, of which ethical writers have, alas! condescended to say but little, supposing that every body would feel that there was no need of solemn counsels on such a subject. It reminds one of the Christmas sermon mentioned in the 'Sketch Book,' preached by the good little antiquarian who elaborately proved, and pathetically enforced on reluctant auditors, the duty of a proper devotion to the festivities of the season. However, every one must like the complexion of your theology, though its counsels on this subject do not seem to me of urgent necessity." "Perhaps," said Fellowes, "I ought rather to have said that Christians inculcate, theoretically, a contempt of the present life, while, practically, they enter as keenly into its pleasures as the 'worldling,'"--uttering the last word with an approach to a sneer. "You may be sure," said Harrington, "I shall leave the Christian to defend himself; but if the case be as you now represent it, your new religious system seems to be superfluous as a corrective of any tendencies to Christian asceticism, and can do nothing for us. It appears that your Reformation was begun and ended before your 'spiritual' Luthers appeared." "Not so," said Fellowes, "for the eagerness with which the Christian pursues the world, while he condemns it, is, as Mr. Greg has recently insisted, gigantic hypocrisy': it is founded on a lie. They say this world is not to be the great object for which we are to live and in which we are to find our happiness; we say it is: they say it is not our 'country' or our 'home'; we say it is: they say that we are to live supremely for the future, and in it; we say, for and in the present; that if there be a future world (of which many doubt, and I, for one, have not been able to make up my mind), we are to hope to be happy there, but that the main business is to secure our happiness here,--to embellish, adorn, and enjoy this our only certain dwelling-place,--and, in fact, to live supremely for the present. Such is the constitution of human nature." "I shall not be at the trouble," replied Harrington, "to defend the inconsistencies of the Christian; but your system, I fear, is essentially a brutal theology, and, I am certain, a false philosophy. All the analogies of our nature cry out against it. All, even with regard to the 'present,' as you call this life, man is perpetually living for and in the future. This 'present' (minute as it is) is itself broken up into many futures, and it is these which man truly lives for, when he is not a beast; and not for the passing hour. It is not to-day, it is always to-morrow, on which his eye is fixed; and his ever-repining nature perpetually confesses its impatient want of something (it knows not what) to come. The child lives for his youth, and the youth is discontented till he is a man; every attainment and every possession pails as soon as it is reached, and we still sigh for something that we have not. It is simply in analogy with all this that the Christian and every other religion says (absurdly, if you will, but certainly with a deeper knowledge of human nature than you), that, as every little present has its little future for which we live, so the whole present of this life has its great future, which must, all the way through, be made the supreme object of forethought and solicitude; just as we should despise any man who, for a moment's gratification to-day, perilled the happiness of the whole of to-morrow. If Christians are inconsistent in this respect, that is their affair; but I am sure their theory is more in accordance with the constitution of human nature than yours." He might have added, that there is nothing in the New Testament which forbids to Christians any of the innocent pleasures of this life: the Christian may lawfully appropriate them. His system does not constrain him to hermit-like austerity or Puritanic grimace. He may enjoy them, just as a wise man, who will not sacrifice any of the interests of next year for a transient gratification of the passing hour, does not deny himself any legitimate pleasure which is not inconsistent with the more momentous interest. The pilgrim drinks and rests at the fountain though he does not dream of setting up his tent there. "Nay," said Fellowes, "but think again of the 'gigantic lie' of making the future world the supreme object, and yet living wholly for this." "If that be the case," said I, joining in their talk, "there is no doubt a 'gigantic lie' somewhere; but the question is, Who tells it? It does not follow that it is Christianity. You may see every day men nay, losing, some important advantages by loitering away the very hour which is to secure them,--in reading a novel, enjoying a social hour, lying in bed, and what not. You do not conclude that the man's estimate of the future--his philosophy of that--is any the more questionable for this folly? The ruthless future comes and makes his heart ache; and so may it be with Christianity for aught any such considerations imply. Your argument only proves that, if Christianity be true, man is an inconsistent fool; and, in my judgment, that was proved long before Christianity was born or thought of." "Your theology," cried Harrington, "fairly carried out, would lead most men to the 'Epicurean sty' which, sceptic as I am, I loathe the thought of; it deserves the rebuke which Johnson gave the man who pleaded for a 'natural and savage condition,' as he called it. 'Sir,' said the Doctor, 'it is a brutal doctrine; a bull might as well say, I have this grass and this cow,--and what can a creature want more?' No, I am sure that the Christian or any other religionist--inconsistent though he is--appeals in this point deeper analogies of our nature than you." "But the fact is," said Fellowes, "that the Christian depreciates the innocent pleasures of this life." And my uncle would say it is his own fault then." "Nay, but hear me. I conceive that nothing could be more natural, as several of our writers have remarked, than the injunctions of the Apostles to the primitive Christians to despise the world, and so forth, under the impression of that great mistake they had fallen into, that the world was about to tumble to pieces, and----" "I am not sure," said Harrington, who seemed resolved to evince a scepticism provoking enough, "that they did make the mistake, on your principles. For I know not, nor you either, whether the expressions on which you found the supposition be not amongst the voluminous additions with which you are pleased to suppose their simple and genuine 'utterances' have been corrupted. But, leaving you to discuss that point, if you like, with my uncle here, I must deny that the mistake, supposing it one, makes any thing in relation to our present discussion. You say that the Apostles did well and naturally to inculcate a light grasp on the world, on the supposition that it was about to pass away; and therefore, I suppose, you (under a similar impression) would do the same; if so, ought you not still to do it? for can it make any conceivable difference to the wisdom or the folly of such exhortations, whether the world passes away from us, or we pass away from the world?-- whether it 'tumbles to pieces,' as you express it, or (which is too certain) we tumble to pieces? I think, therefore, your same comfortable theology cannot be justified, if you justify the conduct of the Apostles under their impression, let it be ever so erroneous. You ought to feel the same sentiments; you being, to all practical purposes, under a precisely similar impression." Fellowes looked as if he were a little vexed at having thus hypothetically justified the conduct of the Apostles. But he was not without his answer, adopted from Mr. Newman. "Yes," said he, "practically, no doubt, death is the end of the world to us; but to urge this,--what is it, as Mr. Newman says, but abominable selfishness preached as religion'? If we are to labor for posterity, will not our work remain, though we die? But if the world is to perish in fifty years, or a century, what then?" "Far be it from me," said Harrington, "to compete with your spiritual philanthropy, which, doubtless, will not be content to work unless under a lease of a million of years. I suppose even if you thought the would come to an end in a hundred years, (and really I have no proof that the Apostles thought it would end sooner,--they spoke of their death as coming first,) you would not think it worth while to do any thing; the welfare of your children and grandchildren would appear far too paltry for so ambitious a benevolence as yours! Most people--Christians, sceptics, or otherwise--are contented to aim at the welfare of his generation and the next, and think as little of their great-great-grandchildren as of their great-great-grandfathers. That little vista terminates the projects of their philanthropy, just as their own death is to them the end of the world. Meantime, it appears, you would be tempted to neglect the practical little you could do, because you could not do more than for a century or so! Pray, which is really the more benevolent? Moreover, as not one man in a million can or does think of benefiting any but his immediate generation, you ought, upon your principles, still to sit down inactive; for they for whom alone you can work will soon pass away too. But the whole argument is too refined. No mortal-- except you or Mr. Newman--would be wrought upon by it." "Well, but," said Fellowes, "as to the mistake of the Apostles, there can be no doubt of that; it really appears to me grossly disingenuous"--looking towards me--"to deny it. What do you say, Mr. B.?" repeating his assertion that the Apostles clearly thought that the end of the world was close at hand,--in fact, that it would happen in their generation. I told him I was afraid I must run the risk of appearing in his eyes "grossly disingenuous"; not that I deemed it necessary to maintain that the Apostles had any idea of the period of time which was to intervene between the first promulgation of the Gospel and the consummation of all things; for when I found our Lord himself acknowledging, "Of that day and that hour knoweth no man, not even the angels, nor even the Son, but the Father only," I could not wonder that the Apostles were left to mere conjectures on a subject which was then veiled even from his humanity. I said I even thought it probable that their vivid feeling anticipated the day,--that the interval between, so to speak, was "foreshortened" to them; but that I could not see how the question of their inspiration, or the truth of Christianity, was at all involved in their ignorance on that point; unless, indeed, it could be proved that they had positively stated that the predicted event would take place in their own time. This, I acknowledged, I could not find,--but much to the contrary; that the charge, indeed, had been so often repeated by the infidel school, that they had persuaded themselves of it, and spoke of it as if it were a decided point; but that as long as the second Epistle of St. Paul to the Thessalonians remained, in which the Apostle expressly corrected misapprehensions similar to those which infidelity still professes to found on the first Epistle, I should continue to doubt whether Paul did not know his own mind better than his modern commentators. I told him that we do not hear that the Thessalonians persisted in believing that they had rightly interpreted Paul's words after he had himself disowned the meaning they had put upon them; that this was a degree of assurance only possible to modern critics; and that I was surprised that Mr. Newman should have quietly assumed the alleged "mistake" in his "Phases of Faith," without thinking it worth while even to state the opposing argument from the Second Epistle. I added, that the repeated references which both Paul and Peter make to their own deaths, as certain to take place before the dissolution of all things, sufficiently prove that, however their view of the future might be contracted, they did not expect the world to end in their day, and ought to have silenced the perverse criticism on the popular expression, "Then we which are alive and remain," &c. Having briefly stated my opinion, Fellowes said he saw that he and I were as little likely to agree as Harrington and he. "However," he continued, turning to his friend, "to go back to the point from which we digressed. My new faith, at all events, makes me happy, which it is plain--too plain--that your want of all faith does not make you." "Whether it is your new faith," said the other, "makes you happy, --whether you were not as happy in your old faith--whether there are not thousands of Christians who are as happy with their faith (they would say much happier, and I should say so too, if they not only say they believe it, but believe it and practise it.), I will not inquire; that my want of faith does not make me happy is a sad truth, which I do not think it worth while to deny; though I must confess that there have been many who have shared in my scepticism who have not shared in my misery. It is just because they have not realized what they did not believe; even as there are thousands of soi-disant Christians who do not realize what they say they do believe; neither the one nor the other are the happier or the more sorrowful for their pretended tenets. This is simply because they stand in no need of the admirable correctives supplied by your new theology; the present engrosses their solicitudes and affections; and the mere talk of the belief or the no-belief suffices to hush and tranquillize the heart in relation to those most momentous subjects, on which if man has not thought at all, he is a fool indeed. In either case the 'future' and the 'eternal' seem so far removed that they seem to be an 'eternal futurity.' Such parties look at that distant future much as children at the stars; it is a point, an invisible speck, in the firmament. A sixpence held near the eye appears larger; and brought sufficiently close shuts out the universe altogether. But let us also forget the future, and have a little talk of the past." They resumed their conversation on subjects indifferent as far as this journal is concerned, and I bade them good night. --- July 5. We were sitting in the library after breakfast. The two college friends soon fell into chat, while I sat writing at my separate table, but ready to resume my capacity of reporter, should any polemical discussion take place. I soon had plenty of employment. After about an hour I heard Harrington say:-- "But I shall be happy, I assure you, to fill the void whenever you will give me something solid wherewith to fill it." It was impossible that even a believer in the doctrine that no "creed" can be taught, and that an "external revelation" is an impossibility, could be insensible to the charm of making a proselyte. "What is it," said Fellowes, "that you want?" "What do I want? I want certainty, or quasi-certainty, on those points on which if a man is content to remain uncertain, he is a fool or a brute; points respecting which it is no more possible for a genuine sceptic--for I speak not of the thoughtless lover paradox, or the queer dogmatist who resolves that nothing is true--to still the soul, than nakedness can render us insensible to cold; or hunger cure its own pangs by saying, 'Go to, now; I have nothing to eat.' The generality of mankind are insensible to these questions only because they imagine, even though it may be falsely, that they possess certainty. They are problems which, whenever there is elevation of mind enough to appreciate their importance, engage the real doubter in a life-long conflict; and to attempt to appease restlessness of such a mind by the old prescriptions,--the old quackish Epicurean nostrum of 'Carpe diem,'--'Let us eat, drink, and be merry, for to-morrow die,'--'We do not know what the morrow may bring--is like attempting to call back the soul from a moral syncope by applying to the nostrils a drop of eau de Cologne. 'Enjoy to-day, we do not know what the morrow will bring!' Why, that is the very thought which poisons to-day. No, a soul of any worth cannot but feel an intense wish for the solution of its doubts, even while it doubts whether they can be solved." "'Carpe diem' certainly would not be my sole prescription," said Fellowes; "you have not told me yet what you want." "No, but I will. The questions on which I want certainty are indeed questions about which philosophers will often argue just to display their vanity, as human vanity will argue about any thing; but they are no sooner felt in their true grandeur, than they absorb the soul." "Still, what is it you want?" "I want to know---whence I came; whither I am going. Whether there be, in truth, as so many say there is, a God,--a tremendous personality, to whose infinite faculties the 'great' and the 'little' (as we call them) equally vanish,--whose universal presence fills all space, in any point of which he exists entire in the amplitude of all his infinite attributes,--whose universal government extends even to me, and my fellow-atoms, called men,--within whose sheltering embrace even I am not too mean for protection;--whether, if there be such a being, he is truly infinite; or whether this vast machine of the universe may not have developed tendencies or involved consequences which eluded his forethought, and are now beyond even his control; --whether, for this reason, or for some other necessity, such infinite sorrows have been permitted to invade it;--whether, above all, He be propitious or offended with a world in which I feel too surely, in the profound and various misery of man, that his aspects are not all benignant;--how, if he be offended, he is to be reconciled;--whether he is at all accessible, or one to whom the pleasures and the sufferings of the poor child of dust are equally subjects of horrible indifference;--whether, if such Omnipotent Being created the world, he has now abandoned it to be the sport of chance, and I am thus an orphan in the universe;--whether this 'universal frame' be indeed without a mind, and we are, in fact, the only forms of conscious existence; --whether, as the Pantheist declares, the universe itself be God,-- ever making, never made,--the product of an evolution of an infinite series of 'antecedents' and 'consequents'; a God of which--for I cannot say of whom--you and I are bits; perishable fragments of a Divinity, itself imperishable only because there will always be bits of it to perish;--whether, even upon some such supposition, this conscious existence of ours is to be renewed; and, if under what conditions; or whether, when we have finished our little day, no other dawn is to break upon our night;--whether the vale, vale in eternum vale, is really the proper utterance of a breaking heart as it closes the sepulchre on the object of its love." His voice faltered; and I was confirmed in my suspicions, that some deep, secret sorrow had had to do with his morbid state of mind. In a moment, he resumed:-- "These are the questions, and others like the them, which I have vainly toiled to solve. I, like you, have been rudely driven out of my old beliefs; my early Christian faith has given way to doubt; the little hut on the mountain-side, in which I thought to dwell in pastoral simplicity, has been scattered to the tempest, and I am turned out to the blast without a shelter. I have wandered long and far, but have not found that rest which you tell me is to be obtained. As I examine all other theories, they seem, to me, pressed by at least equal difficulties with that I have abandoned. I cannot make myself contented, as others do, with believing nothing, and yet I have nothing to believe; I have wrestled long and hard with my Titan foes,--but not successfully. I have turned to every quarter of the universe in vain; I have interrogated my own soul, but it answers not; I have gazed upon nature, but its many voices speak no articulate language to me; and, more especially, when I gaze upon the bright page of the midnight heavens, those orbs gleam upon me with so cold a light, and amidst so portentous a silence, that I am, with Pascal, terrified at the spectacle of the infinite solitudes,--'de ces espaces infinis.' I declare to you that I know nothing in nature so beautiful or so terrible as those mute oracles." "They are indeed mute," said Fellowes; "but not so that still voice which whispers its oracles within. You have but to look inwards, and you may see, by the direct gaze of 'the spiritual faculty,' bright and clear, those great 'intuitions' of spiritual truth which the gauds and splendors of the external universe can no more illustrate than can the illuminated characters of an old missal;--just as little can any book teach these truths. You have truly said, the stars will shed no light upon them; they, on the contrary, must illumine the stars; I mean, they must themselves be seen before the outward universe can assume intelligible meaning; must utter their voices before any of the phenomena of the external world can have any real significance!" "How different," said Harrington, "are the experiences of mankind! You well described those internal oracles, if there are indeed such, as whispering their responses; if they utter them at all, it is to me in a whisper so low that I cannot distinctly catch them. Strange paradoxes! the soul speaks, and the soul listens, and the soul cannot tell what the soul says. That is, the soul speaks to itself, and says, 'What have I said?' I assure you that the ear of my soul (if I may so speak) has often ached with intense effort to listen to what the tongue of the soul mutters, and yet I cannot catch it. You tell me I have only to look down into the depths within. Well, I have. I assure you that I have endeavoured to do so, as far as I know, honestly; and, so far from seeing clear and bright those splendors which you speak of, I can only see as in the depths of a cavern occasional gleams of a tremulous flickering light, which distinctly shows me nothing, and which, I half suspect, comes from without into these recesses: or I feel as if gazing down an abyss, the bottom of which is filled with water; the light--and that, too, for aught I know, reflected from without--only throws a transient glimpse of my own image on the surface of the dark water; that image itself broken and renewed as the water boils up from its hidden fountain. Or, if I may recur to your own metaphor, instead of hearing in those deep caverns the clear oracles of which you boast, I can distinguish nothing but a scarcely audible murmur; I know not whether it be any thing more than the lingering echoes of what I heard in my childhood: or, rather, my soul speaks to me on all these momentous subjects much as one in sleep often does; the lips move, but no sound issues from them. I retire from these attempts, as those of old from the cave of Trophonius, pale, terrified, and dejected. In short," he continued, "I feel much as Descartes says he did when he had denuded himself of all his traditional opinions,--a condition so graphically described in the beginning of the second of his Meditations. There is this difference, however, and in his favor: that he imposed upon himself only a self-inflicted doubt, which he could terminate at any time. His opinions had been but temporarily laid aside. They were on the shelf, close at hand, ready to be taken down again when wanted. But enough of this. You will, I know, aid me, if you can. And, now I think of it, do so on one point, by justifying your assertion, made the other evening, as to Mr. Newman's dilemma of the 'impossibility of a book-revelation.'" "I said, I think, that Mr. Newman has satisfactorily proved to me that a book-revelation of moral and spiritual truth is impossible; that God reveals himself to us within, and not from without." "As to what is impossible," said the other, "I fancy it would be difficult to get one thoroughly convinced of his ignorance and feebleness to be other than very cautious how he used the word. Perhaps, however, Mr. Newman may be more readily excused than most men for the strength with which he pronounces his opinions; for, as he has passed through an infinity of experiences, it may have given him 'insight' into many absurdities which, to the generality of mankind, do not appear such. I think if I had believed half so many things, I should have lost all confidence in myself. What a strong mind, or what buoyant faith, he must have!" "Both,--both," said Fellowes. "Well, be it so. But let us, as you promised yesterday, examine this very point." This led on to a dialogue in which it was distinctly proved that THAT MAY BE POSSIBLE WITH MAN, WHICH IS IMPOSSIBLE WITH GOD. "Mr. Newman affirms, you say," said Harrington, "that in his judgment every book-'revelation' is an absurdity and a contradiction; or, in the words quoted by you, 'impossible.'" "Yes,--of 'moral and spiritual truth.'" "And of any other truth--as of historical truth--you say such revelation is unnecessary?" "Yes." "Moreover, as you and Mr. Newman affirm, the bulk of mankind are not competent to investigate the claims of such an historic revelation?" "Certainly." "And, therefore, it is impossible in fact, if not per se, unless God is to be supposed doing something both unnecessary and futile." "I think so, of course," said Fellowes. "So that all book-revelation is impossible." "I affirm it." "Very well,--I do not dispute it. There still remain one or two difficulties on which I should like to have your judgment towards forming an opinion: and they are on the very threshold of the subject. And, first, I suppose you do not mean to restrict your term of a 'book-revelation' to that only which is literally consigned to a book in our modern sense. You mean an external revelation?" "Certainly." "If, for example, you could recover a genuine manuscript of Isaiah or Paul, you would not think it entitled to any more respect, as authority, than a modern translation in a printed book,--though it might be free from some errors?" "I should not." "You would not allow that parchment, however ancient, has any advantage in this respect over paper, however modern?" "Certainly not." "Nor Hebrew or Greek over English or German? "No." "All such matters are in very deed but 'leather and prunella'?" "Nothing more." "And for a similar reason, surely, you would reject at once the oral teaching of any such man as Paul or Matthew, or any body else, if he professed that what he said was dictated by divine inspiration, concurrently or not with the use of his own faculties? You would repudiate at once his claims, however authenticated, to be your infallible guide; to tell you what you are to believe, and how you are to act? For surely you will not pretend that there is any difference between statements which are merely expressed by the living voice, and those same statements as consigned to a book; except that, if any difference be supposed at all, one would, for some reasons, rather have their in the last shape than in the first." "Of course there is no difference: to object to a book-revelation and grant a 'lip-revelation' from God, or to deny that lip-revelation (when it is made permanent and diffusible) the authority it had when first given, would be a childish hatred of a book indeed," answered Fellowes. "I perfectly agree with you," replied Harrington. "I understand you, then, to deny that any revelation professedly given to you or to me does, or ever can, come to us through any external channel, printed or on parchment, ancient or modern, by the living voice or in a written character; and that this is a proper translation, in a generalized form, of the phrase 'a book-revelation'?" "I admit it. For surely, as already said, it would be truly ridiculous to allow that Paul, if we could but hear his living voice, was to be listened to with implicit reverence as an authorized teacher of divine truth; but that his deliberate utterances, recorded in a permanent form, were to be regarded not merely as less authoritative, but of no authority at all." "So that if you saw Peter or Paul to-morrow, you would tell him the same story?" "Of course I should," replied Mr. Fellowes. "And you would of course also reject any such revelation, coming from any external source, even though the party proclaiming it confirmed it by miracles? For I cannot see how, if it be true that an external revelation is impossible, and that God always reveals himself 'within us' and never 'out of us,' (which is the principle affirmed,)--I say I cannot see how miracles can make any difference in the case." "No, certainly not. But surely you forget that miracles are impossible on my notion: for, as Mr. Newman says---" "Whatever he says, I suppose you will not deny that they are conceivable; and that is all I am thinking of at present. Their impossibility or possibility I will not dispute with you just now. I am disposed to with you; only, as usual, I have some doubts, which I wish you would endeavor to solve; but of that another time. Meantime, my good friend, be so obliging as to give me an answer to my question,--whether you would deem it to be your duty to reject any such claims to authoritative teaching, even if backed by the performance of miracles? for, admitting miracles never to have occurred, and even that they never will, you, I think, would hesitate to affirm that you clearly perceive that the very notion involves a contradiction. They are, at least, imaginable, and that is sufficient to supply you with an answer to my question. I once more ask you, therefore, whether, if such a teacher of a book-revelation, in the comprehensive sense of these words already defined, were to authenticate (as he affirmed) his claims to reverence by any number, variety, or splendor of miracles,--undoubted miracles,--you would any the more feel bound to believe him?" "What! upon the supposition that there was any thing morally objectionable in his doctrine?" "I will release you on that score too." said Harrington, in a most accommodating manner. "Morally, I will assume there is nothing in his doctrine but what you approve; and as for the rest,--to confirm which I will suppose the revelation given,--I will assume nothing in it which you could demonstrate to be false or contradictory; in fact, nothing more difficult to be believed than many undeniable phenomena of the external universe,--matters, for example, which you acknowledge you do not comprehend, but which may possibly be true for aught you can tell to the contrary." "But if the supposed revelation contain nothing but what, appealing thus to my judgment, I can approve, where is the necessity of a revelation at all?" "Did I say, my friend, that it was to contain nothing but what is referred to your judgment? nothing but what you would know and approve just as well without it? or even did I concede that you could have known and approved without it that which, when it is proposed, you do approve? I simply wish an answer to the question, whether, if a teacher of an ethical system such as you entirely approved, with some doctrines attached, incomprehensible it may be, but not demonstratively false or immoral, were to substantiate (as he affirmed) his claims to your belief by the performance of miracles, you would or would not feel constrained any the more to believe him?" "But I do not see the use of discussing a question under circumstances which it is admitted never did nor ever can occur?" "You 'fight hard,' as Socrates says to one of his antagonists on a similar occasion; but I really must request an answer to the question. The case is an imaginable one; and you may surely say how, upon the principles you have laid down, you think those principles would compel you to act in the hypothetical case." "Well, then, if I must give all answer, I should say that upon the principles on which Mr. Newman has argued the question,--that all revelation, except which is internal, is impossible,--I should not believe the supposed envoy's claims." "Whatever the number or the splendor of his miracles?" "Certainly," said Fellowes, with some hesitation however, and speaking slowly. "For that does not affect the principles we are agreed upon?" "No,"--not seeming, however, perfectly satisfied. "Very well," resumed Harrington, "that is what I call a plain answer to a plain question. I fancy (waverer that I am!) that I should believe the man's claims. I should be even greatly tempted to think that those things which I could not entirely see ought to be contained in the said revelation, were to be believed. But all that is doubtless only because I am much weaker in mind and will than either Mr. Newman or yourself. You must pardon me; it will in no degree practically affect the question, except on the supposition that the same infirmity is also a characteristic of man in general; that not I, from my weakness, am an exception to rule; but you, in your strength. But to dismiss that. You have agreed that a book-revelation is impossible, and not to be believed, even if avouched by miracles. Have men in general been disposed to believe a book-revelation impossible? for if not, I am afraid they would be very liable to run into error, if they share in my weaknesses." "Liable to run into error!" said Fellowes. "Man has been perpetually running into this very error, always and everywhere." "If it be true, as you say, that man has always and everywhere manifested a remarkable facility of falling into this error, many will be tempted to think that the thing is not so plainly impossible. It seems so strange that men in general should believe things to be possible when they are impossible. However, you admit it as a too certain fact." "I do, for I can not honestly deny it; but it has been because they have confounded what is historical or intellectual with moral and spiritual truth." "I am afraid that will not excuse their absurdity, because, as you admit, all book-revelation is impossible.--But further, supposing men to have made this strange blunder, it only shows that the 'moral and spiritual' could not be very clearly revealed within; and no wonder men began to think that perhaps it might come to them from without! When men begin to mistake blue for red, and square for round, and chaff for wheat, I think it is high time that they repair to a doctor outside them to tell them what is the matter with their poor brains. Meantime an external revelation is impossible?" "Certainly." "But men, however, have somehow perversely believed it very possible, and that, in some shape or other, it has been given?" "They have, I must admit." "Unhappy race! thus led on by some fatality, though not by the constitution of their nature (rather by some inevitable perversion of it), to believe as possible that which is so plainly impossible. O that it did not involve a contradiction to wish that God would relieve them from such universal and pernicious delusions, by giving them a book-revelation to show them that all book-revelations are impossible!" "That," said Fellowes, laughing, "would indeed be a novelty. Miracles would hardly prove that." "I think not," said Harrington. "But, as the poet says, 'some god or friendly man' may show the way. Pray, permit me to ask, did you always believe that a book-revelation was impossible?" "How can you ask the question?--you know that I was brought up, like yourself, in the reception of the Bible as the only and infallible revelation of God to mankind." "To what do you owe your emancipation from this grievous and universal error, which still infects, in this or some other shape, the myriads of the human race?" "I think principally to the work of Mr. Newman on the 'Soul,' and his 'Phases of Faith.'" "These have been to you, then, at least, a book-revelation that a 'divine book-revelation is impossible'; a truth which I acknowledge you could not have received by divine book-revelation, without a contradiction. You ought, indeed, to think very highly of Mr. Newman. It is well, when God cannot do a this that man can; though I confess, considering the wide prevalence of this pernicious error, it would have been better, had it been possible, that man should have had a divine book-revelation to tell him that a divine book-revelation was impossible. Great as is my admiration of Mr. Newman, I should, myself, have preferred having God's word for it. However, let us lay it down as an axiom that a human book-revelation, showing you that 'a divine book-revelation is impossible,' is not impossible; and really, considering the almost universal error of man on this subject,--now happily exploded,--the book-revelation which convinces man of this great truth ought to be reverenced as of the highest value; it is such that it might not appear unworthy of celestial origin, if it did not imply a contradiction that God should reveal to us in a book that a revelation in a book is impossible." Fellowes looked very grave, but said nothing. "But yet," continued Harrington, very seriously, "I know not whether I ought not, upon your principles, to consider this book-revelation with which you have been favored, about the impossibility of such a thing, as itself a divine revelation; in which case I am afraid we shall be constrained to admit, in form, that contradiction which we have been so anxious to avoid, by making 'possible with man what is impossible with God.'" "I know not what you mean," said Fellowes, rather offended. "Why," said Harrington, quite unmoved, "I have heard you say you do not deny, in some sense, inspiration, but only that inspiration is preternatural; that every 'holy thought,' every 'lofty and sublime conception,' all 'truth and excellence,' in any man, come from the 'Father of lights,' and are to be ascribed to him; that, as Mr. Parker and Mr. Foxton affirm on this point, the inspiration of Paul or Milton, or even of Christ and of Benjamin Franklin, is of the same nature, and in an intelligible sense from the same source,--differing only in degree. Can you deem less, then, of that great conception by which Mr. Newman has released you, and possibly many more, from that bondage to a 'book-revelation' in which you were brought up, and in which, by your own confession, you might have been still enthralled? Can you think less of this than that it is an 'inspired' voice which has proclaimed 'liberty to the captive,' and made known to you 'spiritual freedom'? If any thing be divine about Mr. Newman's system, surely it must be this. Ought you not to thank God that he has been thus pleased to 'open your eyes,' and to turn you from 'darkness to light,'--to raise up in these last days such an apostle of the truth which had lain so long 'hidden from ages and generations'? Can you do less than admire the divine artifice by when it was impossible for God directly to tell man that he could directly tell him nothing, He raised up his servant Newman to perform the office?" "For my part," said Fellowes, "I am not ashamed to say, that I think I ought to thank God for such a boon as Mr. Newman has, in this instance at least, been the instrument of conveying to me: I acknowledge it most momentous truth, without which I should still have been in thraldom to the 'letter.'" "Very well; then the book-revelation of Mr. Newman is, as I say, in some sort to you, perhaps to a divine 'book-revelation.'" "Well, in some sense, it is so." "So that now we have, in some sense, a divine book-revelation to prove that a divine book-revelation is impossible." "You are pleased to jest on the subject," said Fellowes. "I never was more serious in my life. However, I will not press this point any further. You shall be permitted to say (what I will not contradict) that, though Mr. Newman may be inspired, for aught I know, in that modified sense in which you believe in any phenomenon,--inspired as much (say) as the inventor of Lucifer matches,--yet that his book is not divine,--that it is purely human; and even, if you please, that God has had nothing to do with it. But even then I must be allowed to repeat, that at least you have derived from a 'book-revelation' what it would not have been a unworthy of a divine book-revelation to impart, if it could have been imparted without contradiction. Such book-revelation, in this case, must be of inestimable value to man, because, without it, he must have persisted in that ancient and all but inveterate and universal delusion of which we have so often spoken. There is only one little inconvenience, I apprehend, from it in relation to the argument of such a book; and that is, that I am afraid that men, so far from being convinced thereby that a divine revelation is impossible, will rather argue the contrary way, and say, 'If Mr. Newman can do so much, what might not God do by the very same method?' If he can thus break the spiritual yoke of his fellow-men by only teaching them negative truth, surely it may be possible for God to be as useful in teaching positive truth. I almost tremble, I assure you, lest, by his most conspicuous success in imparting to you such important truth, and reclaiming you from such a fundamental error, which lay at the very threshold of your 'spiritual' progress, he may, so far from convincing mankind of the truth of his principle, lead them rather to believe that a 'book-revelation' may have been very possible, and of singular advantage. But, to speak the truth, I am by no means sure that Mr. Newman has not done something more than what we have attributed to him, and whether his book-revelation be not a true divine revelation to you also." Fellowes looked rather curious, and I thought a little angry. "My good friend," said Harrington, "I am sure you will not refuse me every satisfaction you can, in my present state of doubt and perplexity; that you will render me (as indeed you have promised) all the assistance in your power, by kindly telling me what you know of your own religious development and history. I cannot sufficiently admire your candor and frankness hitherto." "You may depend upon it," said Fellowes, "I will not hesitate to answer any questions you choose to put. I am not ashamed of the system I have adopted,--or rather selected, for I do not agree with any one writer--although I confess I wish I were a better advocate of it." "O, rest assured that 'spiritualism' can lose nothing by your advocacy. As to your independence of mind, you act, I am sure, upon the maxim in verba nullius jurare. Your system seems to me quite a spices of eclecticism. There is no fear of my confounding you with the good old lady who, after having heard the sermon of some favorite divine, was asked if she understood him. 'Understand him!' said she; 'do you think I would presume?--blessed man! Nor with the Scotchwoman who required, as a condition of her admiration, that a sermon should contain some things at least which transcended her comprehension. 'Eh. it is a' vara weel,' said she, on hearing one which did not fulfil this reasonable condition; 'but do ye call that fine preaching?--there was na ae word that I could na explain mysel.'" Fellowes smiled good-naturedly, and then said, "I was going to observe, in relation to the present subject, that it is 'moral and spiritual' truth which Mr. Newman says it is impossible should be the subject of a book-revelation." Harrington, apparently without listening to him, suddenly said, "By the by, you agree with Mr. Newman, I am sure, that God is to be approached by the individual soul without any of the nonsense of mediation, which has found so general--all but universal--sanction in the religious systems of the world?" "Certainly," said Fellowes, "nor is there probably any 'spiritualist' (in whatever we may be divided) who would deny that." "Supposing it true, does it not seem to you the must delightful and stupendous of all spiritual truths?" "It does, indeed," said Fellowes. "Could you always realize it, my friend?" said Harrington. "Nay, I was once a firm believer in the current orthodoxy, as you well know." "Now you see with very different eyes. You can say, with the man in the Gospel, 'This I know, that, whereas I was blind, now I see." "I can." "And you attribute this happy change of sentiment to the perusal of those writings of Mr. Newman from which you think that I also might derive similar benefits?" "I do." "It appears, then, that to you, at least, my friend, it is possible that there may be a book-revelation of 'moral and spiritual truth' of the highest possible significance and value, although you do not consider the book to be divine; now, if so, I fancy many will be again inclined to say, that what Mr. Newman has done in your case, God might easily do, if he pleased, for mankind in general; and with this advantage, that He would not include in the same book which revealed truth to the mind, and rectified its errors, an assurance that any such book-revelation was impossible." "But, my ingenious friend." cried Fellowes, with some warmth, "you are inferring a little too fast for the premises. I do not admit that Mr. Newman or any other spiritualist has revealed to me any truth, but only that he has been the instrument of giving shape and distinct consciousness to what was, in fact, uttered in the secret oracles of my own bosom before; and, as I believe, is uttered also in the hearts of all other men." "I fear your distinction is practically without a difference. It will certainly not avail us. You say you were once in no distinct conscious possession of that system of spiritual truth which you now hold; on the contrary, that you believed a very different system; that the change by which you were brought into your present condition of mind --out of darkness into light--out of error into truth--has been produced chiefly by Mr. Newman's deeply instructive volumes. If so, one will be apt to argue that a book-revelation may be of the very utmost use and benefit to mankind in general,--if only by making that which would else be inarticulate mutter of the internal oracle distinct and clear; and that if God would but give such a book, the same value at least might attach to it as to a book of Mr. Newman's. It little matters to this argument, the question of the possibility, value, or utility of an external revelation,--whether the truths it is to communicate be absolutely unknown till it reveals them only not known, which you confess was your own case. If your natural taper of illumination is stuck into a dark lantern, and its light only can flash upon the soul when some Mr. Newman kindly lifts up the slide for you; or if your internal oracle, like a ghost, will not speak till it is spoken to; or, like a dumb demon, awaits to find a voice, and confess itself to be what it is at the summons of an exorcist;--the same argument precisely will apply for the possibility and utility of a revelation from God to men in general. What has been done for you by man, even though no more were done, might, one would imagine, be done for the rest of mankind, and in a much better manner, by God. If that internal and native revelation which both you and Mr. Newman say has its seat in the human soul, be clear without his aid, why did he write a syllable about it? If, as you say, its utterances were not recognized, and that his statements have first made them familiar to you, the same argument (the Christian will say) will do for the Bible. It is of little use that nature teaches you, if Mr. Newman is to teach nature." Fellowes was silent; and, after a pause, Harrington resumed; he could not resist the temptation of saying, with playful malice,-- "Perhaps you are in doubt whether to say that the internal revelation which you possess does teach you dearly or darkly. It is a pity that nature so teaches as to leave you in doubt till some one else teaches you what she does teach you. She must be like some ladies, who keep school indeed, but have accomplished masters to teach every thing. Shall we call Mr. Newman the Professor of 'Spiritual Insight'? Would it not be advisable, if you are in any uncertainty, to write to him to ask whether the internal truths which no external revelation can impart be articulate or not; or whether, though a book from God could not make them plainer, you are at liberty to say that a book of Mr. Newman's will? It is undoubtedly a subtile question for him to decide for you; namely, what is the condition of your own consciousness? But I really see no help for it, after what you have granted; nor, without his aid, do I see whether you can truly affirm that you have an internal revelation, independently of him or not. And whichever way he decides, I am afraid lest he should prove both himself and you very much in the wrong. If he decides for you, that your internal revelation must and did anticipate any thing he might write, and that it was perfectly articulate, as well as inarticulately present to your 'insight' before, it will be difficult to determine why he should have written at all; he would also prove, not only how superfluous is your gratitude, but that he understands your own consciousness better than you do. If he decides it the other way, and says you had a 'revelation' before he revealed it, yet that he made it utter articulate language, and interpreted its hieroglyphics,-- then it more seems very strange that either you or he should contend that a 'book-revelation' is impossible, since Mr. Newman has produced it. If, however, he should in the first of these two ways, I fear, my good friend, that we shall fall into another paradox worse than all for it will prove that the 'internal revelation' which you possess is better known to Mr. Newman than to yourself, which will be a perfectly worthy conclusion of all this embarrass. It would be surely droll for you to affirm that you possess an internal revelation which renders all 'external revelation' impossible, but yet that its distinctness is unperceived by yourself, and awaits the assurance of an external authority, which at same time declares all 'external revelation' impossible!" "There is still another word," said Fellowes, "which you forget that Mr. Newman employs; he says that an authoritative book-revelation of moral and spiritual truth is impossible." "Why" said Harrington, laughing, "while you were without the truth, as you say you were, it was not likely to be authoritative: if, when you have it, it is recognized as authoritative, which you say is the case with the truth you have got from Mr. Newman,--if you acknowledge that it ought to have authority as soon as known, --that is all (so far as I know) that is contended for in the case of the Bible. If you mean by 'authoritative' a revelation which not only ought to be, but which is so, I think mankind make it pretty plain that neither the 'external' nor the 'internal' revelation is particularly authoritative. In short," he concluded "I do not see how we can doubt, on the principles on which Mr. Newman acts and yet denies, that a book-revelation of moral and spiritual truth is very possible; and if given, would be signally useful to mankind in general. If Mr. Newman, as you admit, has written a book which has put you in possession of moral and spiritual truth, surely it may be modestly contended that God might dictate a better. Either you were in possession of the truths in question before he announced them, or you were not; if not, Mr. Newman is your infinite benefactor, and God may be at least as great a one; if you were, then Mr. Newman, like Job's comforters, 'has plentifully declared the thing as it is.' If you say, that you were in possession of them, but only by implication; that you did not see them dearly or vividly till they were propounded, --that is, that you saw them, only practically you were blind, and knew them, only you were virtually ignorant; still, whatever Mr. Newman does (and it amounts, in fact, to revelation), that may the Bible also do. If even that be not possible, and man naturally possesses these truths explicitly, as well as implicitly, then, indeed, the Bible is an impertinence,--and so is Mr. Newman." After a pause, Harrington suddenly asked,-- "Do you not think there is some difference between yourself and a Hottentot?" "I should hope so," said Fellowes, with a laugh. "But still the Hottentot has all the 'spiritual faculties' of which you speak so much?" "Certainly." "What makes this prodigious difference?--for of that, as a fact, we cannot dispute." "Different culture and education, I suppose." "This culture and education is a thing external?" "It is." "This culture and education, however, must be of immense importance indeed, since it makes all the difference between the having or the not having, practically, any just religious notions, or sentiments, or practices, (even in your estimation,) whatever our eternal revelation." "But still I hold, with Mr. Parker, that the 'absolute religion' is the same in all men. The difference is in circumstantials only, as Mr. Parker says." "Then it serves his turn," said Harrington; "and he says the contrary, when it serves his turn; then the depraved forms of religion are hideous enough: when he wishes to commend his 'absolute religion,' they differ in circumstantials. Circumstantials! I have hardly patience to hear these degrading apologies for all that is most degrading in humanity. If the 'absolute religion,' as he vaguely calls it, be present in these of gross ignorance and unspeakable pollution, it is so incrusted and buried that it is indiscernible and worthless. Rightly, therefore, have you expressed a hope that there is a 'prodigious difference' between you a Hottentot. You adhere to that, I presume." "Of course I shall," said Fellowes. "Well, let us see. Would you think, if you were turned into a Hottentot to-morrow, you had a religion worthy of the name, or not?" "I am afraid I should not." "You hope it, you mean. Well, then, it appears that culture and education do somehow make all difference between a man's having a religion worthy of the name, and the contrary?" "I must admit it, for I cannot deny it in point of fact." "And you also admit that, in nine hundred and ninety-nine cases out of a thousand, or in a much larger proportion, taking all the nations of the world since time began, the said culture and education have been wanting, or ineffably bad?" "Yes." "So that there have been very few, in point of fact, who have attained that 'spiritual' religion for which you and our spiritualists contend; and those few chiefly, as Mr. Newman admits, amongst Jews and Christians, though they too have had their most grievous errors, which have deplorably obscured it?" "Yes" "It appears, then, I think, that if we allow that the internal revelation without a most happy external culture and development will not form any religion at all worthy of the name, and that that happy culture and development (from whatsoever cause) are not the condition of our race,--it appears, I say, rather odd to affirm that any divine aid in this absolutely necessary external education of humanity is not only superfluous, but impossible." Another pause ensued, when Harrington again said, "You will think me very pertinacious, perhaps, but I must say that, in my judgment, Mr. Newman's theory of progressive religion (for he also admits a doctrine of progress) favors the same sceptical doubts as to the impossibility of a book-revelation. You do not deny, I suppose, that he does think the world needs enlightening?" "Had he not believed that, he would not have written.' "I suppose not. However, how the world should need it, if your principles be true, and every man brings into the world his own particular lantern,--'Enter Moonshine,'--I do not quite understand; or, if it is in need of such illumination not withstanding, why it should not be possible for an external revelation to supply it still better than your illuminati, I am equally unable to understand. But let that pass. Mr. Newman concludes that the world does stand in need of this illumination, and that it has had it at various times. In is his opinion, is it not, that men began by being polytheists and idolaters?" "It is so; and surely all history bears out the theory." "Many doubt it. I will not venture to give any opinion, except that there are inexplicable difficulties, as usual, on both sides. Just now I am quite willing to take his statement for granted, and suppose that man in the infancy of his race was, in spite of the aid of his very peculiar illumination,--which seems to have 'rayed out darkness,' --as very a Troglodyte in civilization and religion as you (for the special glory of his Creator, I suppose, and the honor of your species) can wish him to have been. Well, man began by being a polytheist, and very gradually emerged out of that pleasant condition --or rather an infinitesimal portion of the race has emerged out of it, into the better forms of idolatry--(poor wretch!), and from thence to monotheism; that, in short, his polytheism is not the corruption of his monotheism, but his monotheism an elevation of his polytheism. Yet it is, after all, a cheerless 'progress,' which often 'advances backward.' Mr. Newman says that 'the law of God's moral universe, as known to us, is that of progress; that we trace it from old barbarism to the methodized Egyptian idolatry, to the more flexible polytheism of Syria and Greece,' and so forth; and so in Palestine, from the 'image-worship in Jacob's family to the rise of spiritual sentiment under David, and Hezekiah's prophets.' (Phases, p. 223) Yet he also tells us, 'Ceremonialism more and more incrusted the restored nation, and Jesus was needed to spur and stab the consciences of his contemporaries, and recall them to more spiritual perceptions.' Well, thus came Christ to 'stab and spur'; and faith, I think 'stab and spur' were again needed by the end of the third century. Successive reformers are needed to 'stab and spur' the thick hide of humanity, without which it will not, it seems, go forward, but perversely go backward; and even with this perpetual application of the goad of some spiritual mohoul, man crawls on at an intolerably slow pace. However, 'stab' and 'spur' are needed which is all I am now intent upon." "Yes; but each of those great souls who have stimulated the dull mind of ordinary humanity derived from its own internal illumination that spiritual light which they have communicated to the rest of mankind!" "For themselves, perhaps, my friend," said Harrington, "and if they had kept it to themselves in many instances, probably the world would have been no loser. That they had it from within, is true,--if your theory is true. But to others, to the bulk of mankind, they have imparted this light; it has been to mankind an 'external revelation'; it is from without, not from within, that this light has been received, and that the boasted 'progress' of the race has been secured. It remains, therefore, only for your Christian opponent to ask, how it should be impossible that mankind should be indebted to an external revelation by God, when it is plain that they are indebted for the like from man! And whether it is not conceivable that, if Moses and Socrates and Paul could do so much for them, God could do a trifle more? You will say, perhaps, on the old plea, that these profounder spirits only made articulate that which already existed inarticulately in the hearts of those whom they addressed; that they only chafed into life the marble statue of Pygmalion,--the dormant principles and sentiments which had a home in the human heart before, only they were unluckily treated as strangers. Well; the same thing may the apologist for the Bible say,--merely adding, that it does more effectually the business of thus awakening 'dormant' powers, and giving a substantive form to the shadowy conceptions of mankind. But it is still, in either case, to the bulk of the world an external revelation, an outward aid which gives them the actual conscious possession of spiritual light, and secures the vaunted progress of humanity. Such are some of my difficulties respecting your theory of the impossibility and inutility of any and all external revelations. I must, in candor, say that our discussion has left them where they were." "There is one thing," he added, "about your system which I acknowledge would be consolatory to me if it were but true. If man be really in possession of an internal and universal revelation of moral and spiritual truth, you neither can nor need take any trouble to enlighten and convert him. It relieves one of all superfluous anxiety on that score." "Pardon me," said Fellowes, "it is Mr. Newman's spiritual theory alone which does allow the prospect of success to any such efforts. As he truly says, when the spiritual champion has thrown off the burden of an historical Christianity, he advances, as lightly equipped as Priestley himself. I should say much more lightly. 'What,' says he, 'may we now expect from the true theologian when he attacks sin, and vice, and gross spirituality?' 'The weapon he uses,' to employ Mr. Newman's own language, 'is as lightning from God, kindled from the spirit within him, and piercing through the unbeliever's soul, convincing his conscience of sin, and striking him to the ground before God; until those who believe receive it not as the word of man but as what it is, in truth, the word of God. Its action is directly upon the conscience and upon the soul, and hence its wonderful results; not on the critical faculties, upon which the spirit is powerless.'(Soul, p. 244) Again, he says that such a preacher 'will have plenty to say, alike to the vulgar and to the philosophers, appreciable by the soul.' Hear him again: 'Then he may speak with confidence of what he knows and feels; and call on his hearers of themselves to try and prove his words. Then the conversion of men to the love of God may take place by hundreds and thousands, as in some former instances. Then, at length, some hope may dawn that Mohammedans and Hindoos may be joined in one fold with us, under one Shepherd, who will only have regained his older name of the Lord God.'" (Soul, p. 258) "By all the gods and goddesses of all the nations," said Harrington, "I cannot understand it. How mankind should need such teaching, if your theory be true; how, if they need it, it is possible that you should give it if all external revelation of moral and spiritual truth be impossible; how, if it is impossible, it should be impossible for a God, by a Bible, to give the like; how you can get at the souls of people at all except through the intervention of the senses and the intellect,--the latter of which you say has nothing to do with the 'soul,' and surely the former can have as little; or how, if you can get at them by this intervention, it is impossible that a Bible should,--is all to me a mystery. But let that pass. If your last account be true, one thing is clear; that a splendid career is open to you and your friends. You can immediately employ this irresistible 'weapon' for the verification of your views and the conversion of the human race. You can renew, or rather realize, the triumphs of early Christianity;--I say realize, for you and Mr. Newman believe them to be, for the most part, fabulous, and that it was the army of Constantine that conquered the Empire for Christianity; but you can turn such fables into truths. Surely the least you can do is to be off as a missionary to China or India. Go to Constantinople, my dear fellow, and take the Great Turk by the beard. Nor can Mr. Newman do less than repair to Bagdad, upon a second and more hopeful mission. You will know when you have demolished Mohammedanism, and got fairly into Thibet. Alexander's career will be nothing to it. But alas! I fear it will be only another variety of that impossible thing,--a book-revelation!" "Nay," said Fellowes, "we must first finish our mission at home, and try our weapons upon you and such as you. We must subdue such as you first." "Then you will never go," said Harrington. "Never mind," I said, "Mr. Fellowes; Harrington is very mischievous to-day. But, as he said he would not contest the ground of your dictum, that a book-revelation of moral and spiritual truth is impossible, so he has not entered into it. Will you let me, on a future day, read to you a brief paper upon it? I have no skill--or but little--in that erotetic method of which Harrington is so fond." He assented, and here this long conversation ended. ____ July 7. Harrington and I spent a portion of this morning alone (Fellowes was gone out for a day or two), conversing on various subjects. I hardly know how it was, but I felt a strong reluctance to enter with formality on that one which yet lay nearest my heart, --whether from the fear lest I should do more harm than good; lest controversy should, as so often happens, indurate rather than soften the heart: or perhaps I had some secret distrust of my own temper or his. Yet, if I felt any thing of the last, I am sure I did him injustice; and (I hope) myself. Be it as it may, I thought it better just to exchange a shot now and then,--sometimes it was a red-hot shot too on both sides,--as we passed and repassed, in the current of conversation, than come to a regular set-to, yard-arm to yard-arm. From whatever cause, he gave me abundant opportunity of recurring to the subject, for he was perpetually, and I believe unconsciously, leading the conversation towards it; not, I think, from confidence in his logical prowess, but from the restlessness in which (he did not pretend to disguise it) his state of scepticism had plunged him. It was curious, indeed, to see how every thing, sooner or later, fell into one channel. For example, I happened to remark, that a cottage in the valley which we saw from his library window would make a pretty object in a picture,--it was the only sign of life in the little valley. "I should like the view itself all the better without it," said he. I observed that a painter would feel very differently; and if there were no such object, he would be sure to put one in. "O, certainly," he replied, "a painter would, and justly; there is no doubt that the shadow of animated existence is very admirable; a picture, I admit, is wonderfully more picturesque with such a picture of life; especially as the painter can and does remove every thing offensive to his fastidious art. He is very apt to regard the objects in his landscapes much as a poet does a cottage, according to Cowper's confession. 'By a cottage,' says he to Lady Hesketh, 'you must always understand, my dear, that a poet means a house with six sashes in front, comfortable parlors, a smart staircase, and three rooms of convenient dimensions.' As I have looked sometimes down a mountain glen, and seen the most picturesque huts upon its sides, I have thought how little the painter could dispense with them. But, then, how easily the philosopher can: for, alas! I have taken wing from my station, and looked in through the miserable easement, and seen, not only what is disgusting to the senses,--which is a small matter,--but ignorance and disease, and fear, and guilt, and racking pain, and doubt, and death; and I have not been able to help saying, in pity, 'O for absolute solitude!--how much nature would be improved if the human race were annihilated!'" "The human race," said I, laughing, "is very much obliged to the pity which would thus exterminate them; but as one of them, I should decidedly object to so sweeping a mode of improving the picturesque. Besides, I suppose you make an exception in favor, yourself, otherwise the picturesque would vanish just when it was brought to perfection. I am often inclined to say with Paley, though I remember well having sometimes felt as you do, 'It is a happy world after all.' I admit, however, that a buoyant, cheerful, habitual conviction of this will depend on the constitution of the mind, and even vary with the same in its different moods. But I am sure it may be a really happy world, whatever its sorrows, to any one who will view it as he ought." "I wish you could teach me the art." "It is," said I, "to exercise the faith and the hope of a Christian, humbly to regard this life as what it is,--a scene of discipline and schooling, a pilgrimage to a better. It is an old remedy, but it has been often tried; and to millions of our race has made this world more than tolerable, and death tranquil, nay, triumphant. Do you remember Schiller's 'Walk among the Linden-Trees'?" "Perfectly well." "Do you not remember how the two youths differ in their estimate of the beautiful in nature? 'Is it possible,' says Edwin, 'you can thus turn from the cup of joy, sparkling and overflowing as it is?'--'Yes,' said Wollmar, 'when one finds a spider in it; and why not? In your eyes, to be sure, Nature decks herself out like a rosy-checked maiden on her bridal day. To me she appears an old, withered beldame, with sunken eyes, furrowed cheeks, and artificial ornaments in her hair. How she seems to admire herself in this her Sunday finery! But it is the same worn and ancient garment, put off and on some hundreds of thousands of times.' But how natural is the explanation of all given at the beautiful close of the dialogue! 'Here,' said the jocund Edwin, 'I first met my Juliet.'--'And it was under these linden-trees,' says Wollmar, 'that I lost my Laura' It was their mood of mind, and not the outward world, that made all the difference. All nature, innocent thing! must consent to take her hue from it. You have, I fear, lost your Laura,"--simply alluding to his early faith; "or shall I suppose, from your present mood, that you have just met with your Juliet?" I spoke, of course, of his philosophy. He was looking out of the window; but on my turning my gaze towards him, I saw such a look of peculiar anguish, that I felt I had inadvertently touched a terrible chord indeed. I turned the conversation hastily, by remarking (almost without thinking of what I said) on the beautiful contrast between the light blue of the sky and the green of the lawn and trees; and proceeded to remark on the degree in which the mere organic or sensational pleasures of vision formed an ingredient in the pleasurable associations of the complex "beautiful." He gradually resumed conversation; and we discussed the subject of the "beautiful" for some time. Yet I know not how it was, nor can I trace the steps by which we deviated,--only that Rousseau's summer -day dreams on the Lake of Bienne was a link in the chain,--we somehow soon found ourselves on the brink of the great controversy respecting the "origin of Evil." "I have read many books on that subject," said I; "but I intend to read no more; and I should think you have had enough of them." "Why, yes," said he, laughing; "whatever philosophers may have thought of the origin of evil, it is a great aggravation of it to read their speculations. The best thing I know on the subject--and it exhausts it--is half a dozen lines in 'Robinson Crusoe.'" "Robinson Crusoe!" said I. "Certainly," he replied; "do you not remember that when he caught his man Friday, the 'intuitional consciousness'--the 'insight'--the 'inward revelation' of that worthy savage not being found quite so perfect as Mr. Parker would fancy, Robinson proceeds to indoctrinate him in the mysteries of theology? Friday is much puzzled, as many more learned savages have been before him, to find that the infinite power, wisdom, and goodness of God had made every thing good, and that good it would have continued had not been for the opposition of the Devil. 'Why God not kill Debbil?' asks poor Friday. On which says Robinson, 'Though I was a very old man, I found that I was but a young doctor in divinity.' Ah! if all doctors in divinity had been equally candid, the treatises on that dread subject would not have been quite so voluminous; for we close them all alike with the unavailing question, 'Why God not kill Debbil?'" Observing this tendency to gravitate towards the abyss, I at last said to him, 'I think, if I were you, having decided that there is no religious truth to be found, I should dismiss the subject from my thoughts altogether. Do as the Indian did, who struggled as long as he could to right his canoe when he found he was in the stream of Niagara; but, finding his efforts unavailing, sat himself down with his arms folded, and went down the falls without stirring a muscle. Let us talk no more on the subject. Why should you perplex yourself, as you apparently do, about a thing so hopeless to be found out as truth? 'What is truth?' said Pilate; and, as Bacon says, 'he would not wait for an answer.' It was a question to which, most probably, he, like you, thought no answer could be given. If I were you, I should do the same. Why perplex yourself to no purpose?" "I should answer," said he, "as Solon did when asked why he grieved for his son, seeing all grief was unavailing.' It is for that very reason that I grieve,' was the reply. And in like manner I dwell on the impossibility of discovering truth because it is impossible." I acknowledged that it was a sufficient reason, and that it went to account in some degree for a fact I had remarked in the few sceptics I had come across,--genuine or otherwise,--that they seemed less capable of reposing in their professed convictions than any one else: it is of no avail, they say, to reason on such subjects; and yet they are perpetually reasoning! They will neither rest themselves nor let any one else rest. He confessed it, and said, "The state of mind is very much as you have described it; and you have described it so exactly, that I almost think you, my dear uncle, must know the heart of a sceptic, and have been one yourself some time or other!" We wound up the morning, which was beautiful, by taking a ride, in the course of which I was amused with an instance of the sensitiveness with which Harrington's cultivated mind recoiled from the grossness of vulgar and ignorant infidelity. We called at the cottage of a little farmer, a tenant of his, somewhat notorious both for profanity and sensuality. Presuming, I suppose, on his young landlord's suspected heterodoxy, and thinking, perhaps, to curry favor with him, he ventured (I know not what led to it) to indulge in some stupid joke about the legion and the herd of swine. "Sir," said he, scratching his head, "the Devil, I reckon, must have been a more clever fellow than I thought, to make two thousand hogs go down a steep place into the sea; it is hard enough even to make them go where they will, and almost impossible make them go where they won't." "The Devil, my good friend," said Harrington, very gravely, "is a very clever fellow; and I hope you do not for a moment intend to compare yourself with him. As to the supposed miracle, it would, no doubt, be hard to say which were most to be pitied, the devils in the swine, or the swine with the devils in them; but has it never struck you that the whole may be an allegorical representation of the miserable and destructive effects of the union of the two vices of sensuality and profanity? They also (if all tales be true) lead to a steep place, but I have never heard that it ends in the water. Now," he continued, "I dare say you would laugh at that story which the Roman Catholics tell of St. Antony; namely, that he preached to the pigs'! --yet it has had a very sound allegorical interpretation; we are told that it meant merely that he preached to country farmers; which, you see, is more than I have been doing." It was one of the many things which made me a sceptic as to whether he was one. "Harrington," said I, "at times I find it impossible to believe that you doubt the truth of Christianity." "Suppose I were to answer, that at times I doubt whether I doubt it or not, would not that be a thorough sceptic's answer?" I admitted that it would be indeed. ____ July 8. I was already in the library, writing, when Harrington came in to breakfast. "You seem busy early," said he. I told him I was merely endeavoring to manifest my love for his future children. "You know," said I, "what Isocrates says, that it is right that children, as they inherit the other possessions, should also inherit the friendships of their fathers." "My children!" said he, very gravely; "I shall never have any." "O, yes, you will, and then these sullen vapors of doubt will roll off before the sunlight of domestic happiness. It will allure you to love Him who has given you so much to love. Yes," said I, gayly, "I shall visit you one day in happier moods; when you will wonder how you could have indulged all your present thoughts of God and the universe. As you gaze into the face of innocent childhood, which shows you what faith in God is by trust in you, you will say, 'Heaven shield the boy from being what his father has been?'--you will feel that such thoughts as yours will not do, as the world says; and we shall all go together, you with your wife on your arm, to church there in the in the bright sun and deep quiet of a Sabbath morning, and amidst the music of the Sabbath bells; and as the tranquil scene steals into your very soul, you will say, 'No, scepticism was not made for man.'" "It is a pleasant romance," he replied, gloomily, "and nothing more. I shall never love, and shall therefore never wed; though, I suppose, that does not logically follow. However, it does with me; and, consequently, I presume the children are also only in posse. However, what is this instance of your kindness to my possible children?" he added, more cheerfully. "I was endeavoring," said I, "on the bare possibility of your retaining as a father all the feelings you seem to entertain at present, to compile for your children (as they must be taught something, and you would wish them, as you say, to know the truth) a short catechism. I think the questions in Watts's First Catechism might do for the poor little souls. The answers (as usual) might not be wholly intelligible till they got older, but still might awaken some notion which in time might ripen into confirmed scepticism." "Well," said he, laughing, "let me hear what sort of 'religious' instruction you have provided." "I had only finished one question," I replied, "when you came in: but I almost think it may be considered a 'Summa Theologiae' of itself. It is this:-- "'Can you tell me, child, who made you?' "'I cannot, certainly, tell who made me; neither can my father; but from the continual misery, confusion, and doubt which I feel in myself and see around me'--here the little pupil is to be cautioned not to laugh; the mirth in the eye, perhaps, cannot be extinguished,--I am led to doubt whether I was made by one who cares for me or takes any interest in me.'(Good child.)" "As I looked up, after reading this first truth of sceptical theology, I observed in Harrington's face something of the same look of sorrow which I had noted the day before. Suddenly be said, as if to prevent any chance recurrence to painful topics:-- "I very gradually became a doubter. I was perhaps becoming so when, two years ago, I became an idolater, and my idol crumbled to pieces at my feet. That transient vision of the beautiful half reclaimed me from my doubts; the darkness of the succeeding night taught me juster views of the miseries of man and the incomprehensible riddle of his existence; and I half blushed at my glimpse of selfish happiness." So saying, he suddenly left the room. Some part of the mystery I felt was unravelled. Alas! the logic of the head,--how fatally fortified by the logic of the heart! And so, thought I to myself, even Harrington too is in part the dupe of that cunning spirit of delusion which in various forms is resolved to cast God and a Redeemer and Immortality out of the universe, in compliment to man's wonderful elevation, purity, unselfishness, and philanthropy! One man tells me, with Shaftesbury, that he does not want any "immortal hopes," or any such "bribes" of "prudence" to make him virtuous or religious,--delicate, noble-minded creature!--that he can serve and love God equally well, though he were sure of being annihilated to-morrow morning! Another declares that he would not accept heaven itself if purchased by a single pang, voluntary or involuntary, endured by any other being in God's universe? Another swears that such is his sympathetic benevolence, that he "would not accept that same heaven if he thought any other being was to be shut out of it"; I wonder whether he condescends to accept any blessing now, while a single fallow-creature remains destitute of it? A fourth (a lady too) declares "there is no theory God, of an author of nature, of an origin of the universe which is not utterly repugnant to her faculties, which is not (to her feelings) so irreverent as to make her blush, so misleading as to make her mourn"; and now Harrington, instead of being thankful for his glimpse of happiness, and yielding to the better instincts and convictions it partly awakened, and learning patience, submission, and faith under his shattered hopes, is taken captive on the same weak side; and (all unconscious that he shares in the prophet's feeling, "I do well to be angry") fancies that his present gloom is more truly in unison with the condition of the universe, and that he is bound to be most philanthropically misanthropical. O, well does the Book say of this heart of ours, "DECEITFUL ABOVE ALL THINGS"! Such are our mingled follies and wickedness, so ludicrous, so sorrowful, are the features presented in this great tragi-comedy,--THE LIFE OF MAN, --that it is impossible to play consistently either Democritus or Heraclitus. ____ July 9. Mr. Fellowes returned this morning. We had a very pleasant day,--theology being excluded. In the evening my companions were again pleased to disturb my occupations; but it was only a short skirmish. Fellowes was endeavoring to enlighten his friend respecting the mysteries of "belief" and "faith," as expounded by some of his favorite writers: he contended, (making that sheer separation between "the intellectual" and "spiritual," which so many of the spiritual school affect.) not only that there may be correct belief without true faith, which, in an intelligible sense, few will deny; but that there may be a true faith with a false belief', or even with none, in the strict sense of the word. Referring to a recent acute writer in one of our religious periodicals, he argued that belief is properly an intellectual process, founded on a presumed preponderance of reasons or supposed reasons, for it; and that whether those reasons amount to demonstration, or whether the scale be turned by a grain, matters not; the product is purely logical, and has no more to do with "faith" than a "belief" in any proposition of Euclid. "But, at all events," he proceeded, "whether you choose to call some of these acts of reason by the name of belief or not, faith is something quite independent of it. As Mr. Newman says, in his 'Phases,' 'Belief is one thing and faith another': 'belief is purely intellectual; faith is properly spiritual.' 'Nowhere from any body of priests, clergy, or ministers, as an order, is religious progress to be anticipated till intellectual creeds are destroyed.' See, too, how tenderly he speaks even of atheism. 'I do not know,' he says, 'how to avoid calling this a moral error; but I must carefully guard against seeming to overlook that it may still be a merely speculative error, which ought not to separate our hearts from any man.' Similarly he charitably restricts 'idolatry' in any 'bad sense' to a voluntary worshipping of what the worshipper feels not to deserve his adoration; and as I, for one, doubt whether this is ever the case, this delightful charity is comprehensive indeed. Mr. Parker's discourse is full of the same beautiful and tolerant maxims. 'Each religious doctrine,' he says, 'has some time stood for a truth ...... Each of these forms of religion (polytheism and fetichism, to wit) did the world service in its day.' No one form of religion is absolutely true; faith may be compatible with them all." "Let me understand you, if possible," said Harrington; "for at present I fear I do not. That there may be belief without faith in a very Intelligible sense, I can understand. You say there can be faith without belief, and a true faith that is connected with any belief, however erroneous, do you not?" "Provided it contains the absolute religion." "Well, and even the lowest fetichism does that, according to Mr. Parker, whom you defend. Now this Protean faith is what I do not understand." "That," said Fellowes, "I can easily conceive; and, let me add, no sceptic can understand it." "I see no reason why he should not," said Harrington, laughing, "if, as you and Mr. Newman suppose, the 'spiritual' can be so perfectly divorced from the 'intellectual.' According to your reasoning, the and the idolater cannot be incapable of exercising this mysterious 'faith,'--when their errors are supposed purely speculative,--since faith has nothing to do with the intellect; neither therefore ought the sceptic to be quite beyond the pale of your charity. Nay, his intellect being a rasa tabula in these matters, I should think he is in more favorable circumstances than they can be. But, seriously, let me try, if possible, to fathom this curious dogma,--I beg your pardon,--sentiment, I mean. Belief without faith in an intelligible sense (if by this last we mean a condition of the emotions or affections), I can understand; though if the truth believed be of a nature to excite to emotion and to dictate action, and fail to do so, I doubt whether men in general would not call that belief spurious. For example, if a man, on being told that his house was on fire, sat still in his neighbor's chimney-corner, and took no notice of the matter, most persons would say that his assent was no true belief; for it did not produce its effects, did not produce faith. But whether faith can ever exist independently of belief,--whether it is not always involved with it,--and whether there can be a faith worth a farthing that is not based on a true belief,--that is the point on which I want light. If I understand you, an acceptable faith may or may not coexist with a true belief; and men who believe in Jupiter or Jehovah, in one God or a thousand, who worship the sun, or an idol, or a cat, or a monkey, all may have an equally acceptable faith." "I affirm it." "That as there may be belief in a truth without faith, so there may be faith, though the intellect believes in a falsehood;--that faith, in fact, is independent of knowledge, or of any particular condition of the intellect?" "I do not like the terms in which you express the sentiment, but I, for one, believe it substantially correct." "Never mind the form; I am quite willing to employ other terms, if you will supply them" "Well, then," said Fellowes, "I should say, with Mr. Parker, that the principle of true faith may be found to coexist with the grossest and most hideous misconceptions of God, while the absence of it may coexist with the truest and most elevated belief." "That, I think, comes to much the same as I said. Now about the latter we have no dispute. It is the former that I want light upon: the latter only shows that a belief, which ought to be practical, and if not practical is nothing, is but a species of hypocrisy; and, of course, I have nothing to say for it. My uncle here, who is still one of the orthodox, who believes that an 'acceptable faith' and a belief in the divinity of a monkey or a cat are somehow quite incompatible, would be among the first to acknowledge the latter position. He would say, 'No doubt there has often been such a thing as "dead orthodoxy,"--a creed of the "letter,"--a religion exclusively dependent on logic, and nothing to do with the feeling's; --belief that is not sublimated into faith;--a system of arteries and veins infiltrated with some colored substance, like the specimens in an anatomical museum, but in which none of the lifeblood of religion circulates. But surely,' he would say, 'it does not follow, that, because there has been belief without faith, there is or can be any independent of some belief, or an acceptable faith without a true belief.'" "I affirm," said Fellowes, "that 'faith' has nothing to do with the intellect, but is a state of the affections exclusively. I affirm, with a recent acute writer, that there is, properly speaking, no belief at all that is distinguishable from reason. For what is meant by belief of a proposition, but the receiving that proposition true upon evidence, from a supposed preponderance of reasons in its favor? Now, whether that preponderance be a ton weight or a single grain, down goes the balance, and reason as strictly decides that it is to be received as if it were a mathematical demonstration. If the arguments, whether abstract or otherwise, absolutely demonstrative or only probable, are supposed to be exactly balanced, there is no reason for deciding in favor of one side more than the other; and there is, therefore, no belief, for the very reason that reason cannot be exercised." "Very well indeed," said Harrington, "so far as it goes; but I forthwith see, that, so far from deriving any benefit from this ingenious reasoning, there is no such thing as either faith or belief: belief and faith have both vanished at the same time; the first is resolved into reason, and the second becomes impossible." "Belief may," said Fellowes, "but faith never. Its divine beauty is all the brighter, when happily divorced from logic and syllogisms, its misalliance with which can only be compared to that cruel punishment by which the living was chained to the dead. Say what you will, it still reigns and triumphs in the soul in spite of all." "I am perfectly convinced," said Harrington, "that the modern spiritualist will not bring his 'faith' into any ignominious slavery to intellect or syllogism. But clear up my doubts if you can. I know that the writers you are fond of quoting very generally give an illustration of the nature of faith by pointing to the ingenuous trust of a child in the wisdom and kindness of a parent." "They do; and is it not a beautiful illustration? That is genuine faith indeed!" "I am willing to take the illustration. The child has faith, we see, in his father's superior wisdom and experienced kindness." "Yes." "He believes them, therefore." "Certainly." "But belief is reason." "Certainly; but faith is more than that." "No doubt; but he does believe these things." "Yes, certainly." "And if he did not believe them, he would cease to have faith. If, for instance, he be convinced that his father is mad, or cruel, or unjust, the state of affections which you call faith will diminish, and at last cease." "Perhaps so," said Fellowes. "Perhaps so, my friend! I really cannot receive your answer, because I am convinced that it does not express your sentiments." "Well, I believe that the state of affection which call 'faith' would be impossible under such circumstances." "But belief is reason." "Yes." "Must we not say, then, that the child's faith depends on the condition of his belief, that is, on his reason, so that the 'faith' is possible when he believes and so long as he believes, that his father is wise and kind, but is impossible when he believes, and as soon as he believes, the contrary?" "Yes, I admit that." "It appears, then, that faith in this,--perhaps the best illustration that could be selected,--so far from being a state of the affections exclusive of the intellect, is not exclusive of it, but absolutely dependent on it, inasmuch as it is absolutely dependent on belief, and that is dependent on reason. It exists in connection with it, and is never independent of it. If the contrary be affirmed, I doubt whether there can be any such thing as 'faith' in the world. Belief becomes reason, and faith, having nothing, you say, to do with the intellect, becomes impossible. But now let it be supposed (as, indeed, I cannot but suppose) that some belief, that is, reason, enlightened or not (generally the last), is involved in every act of faith; you yet affirm most distinctly that it is a state of the affections quite unconnected with the truth or falsehood of any intellectual propositions." "I do." "It ought to follow, then, that it matters not what is the object of belief, provided there is 'faith'; and this, if you observe: is very much what the language of Mr. Newman would imply, while it is the very essence of Mr. Parker's teaching." "You mean Father Newman, perhaps?" "Why no, I did not; but, to tell you the truth. I now mean either; there not appearing to me much difference between them in this respect. Whether you worship an image of a 'winking virgin,' or, according to the other Dromio, the 'ideal' of an idolater,--whether (provided always it be with sincerity and trust!) you adore the Jehovah of the Hebrews, or 'the image which fell down from Jupiter,' ought to make, upon this theory, no great difference." "Well, in whatever difficulty the controversy may involve us, can we deny this conclusion?" "Truly," replied Harrington, "I think it does not involve me in any difficulty; it shows me that, if this be the 'faith' to which you attach so much importance, it really is not worth the powder and shot that must be expended in the controversy. For my own part, I do not hesitate to say that I would rather be absolutely destitute of 'faith' altogether, than exercise the most absolute faith ever bestowed upon a tawdry image of the Virgin, or some misshapen beast of an idol of Hindoo or Hottentot workmanship." "Ah! my friend," cried Fellowes, "do not thus blaspheme the most holy feelings of humanity, however misapplied!" "I do not conceive that I do, in declaring abhorrence and contempt of such perversions of 'sentiment,' however 'holy' you may call them. Hideous as they are, however, they are less hideous than the half-length apologies for them on the part of cultivated and civilized human beings, like our 'spiritual' infidels. Your tenderness is ludicrously misplaced. I wonder whether the same apology would extend to those exercises of simple-minded 'faith' in which it is said that the Spanish and Portuguese pirates sometimes indulged, when they implored the benediction of their saints on their predatory expeditions! And yet I see not how it could be avoided; for the exorbitancies of these pirates were not more hateful to humanity than are the rites practices, and the duties enjoined, by many forms of religion. What delightful, ingenuous 'faith' and genuine 'simplicity' of mind did these pirates manifest!" "How can you talk so, when we make it a mark of a false revelation, that it contradicts any intuition of our moral nature?" "Then cease to talk of your 'absolute religion,' as capable in any way of consecrating the hateful forms of false and cruel superstition for which you and Mr. Parker condescend to be the apologists. The fanaticism of such pious and devout beasts as those saint-loving pirates is not a more flagrant violation of the principle of morality, than the acts which flow directly as the immediate and natural expression of the infinitely varied but all-polluting forms of idolatry with which you are pleased to identify your 'absolute religion,' and in all of which you suppose an acceptable 'faith' to be very possible. You see how Mr. Parker extends the apology to the foulest sets of his Tartar and Calmuck scoundrels; acts called murders in the codes of Christendom and civilization, but varnished over by the beautiful 'faith' which somehow still lurks under the most frightful practices of a simple-minded barbarian. If this faith will shelter the abominations of a gross idolatry, I see not what else it may not sanctify.--But, in fact, neither in the case of idolaters, nor any other religionists, is it true that 'faith' is independent of 'belief'; in the case of your Calmuck, for example, the 'belief' is vile, and therefore the 'faith' vile too; faith practical enough, certainly, but one that as certainly does not 'work by love'; and which, I think, would be well exchanged for a dead orthodoxy, or any thing else." It is not difficult to see the source of the fallacy into which Mr. Fellowes had fallen. It lies in the attempt to make a distinction in fact, as well as in theory, between the "intellectual" and "emotional" parts of our nature. It is very well for the spiritual and mental analyst to consider separately the several principles which constitute humanity, and which act, and react, and interact, in endless involution. That there may be acts of belief that terminate chiefly in the intellect, and may be wholly worthless, who denies? The drunkard, for example, may admit that sobriety is a duty; but yet, if he gets drunk every night of his life, we shall, of course, think little of that act of belief,--of his daily repetition of moral orthodoxy. In the same manner, a man may admit that it is his duty to exercise implicit love, gratitude, and obedience towards the great object of worship; but if his habitual conduct shows that he has no thought of acting in accordance with this maxim, he must be regarded, in spite of the orthodoxy of his speculative creed, as no better than a heathen; or worse. But though it is very possible that a true belief may not involve true faith, does the converse follow,--that therefore true faith is essentially different from it, and independent of it? All history shows, that when religion is practical at all,--that is, issues in faith,--such faith is as the truth or falsehood believed; the emotional and active conditions of the soul are colored, as usual, by knowledge and intellect. These, again, are not independent of the will and the affections, as we all familiarly know. And hence the fallacy of supposing that no man is to be thought better or worse for his "intellectual creed." His "creed" may be his "crime"; and surely none ought to see this more clearly than the writers who deny it; for why their eternal invectives against "dogmas,"--and especially the tolerably universal dogmas that men are responsible for the formation of their opinions,--except upon the supposition that men are responsible for framing and maintaining them? If they are not, men should be left alone; if they are, they are to be thought of as "worse and better" for their "intellectual creed." Before the conclusion of the conversation, Mr. Fellowes asked me for my opinion. "If," said I, "faith be defined independent of an act of intellect, then I think, with our sceptical friend here, there can be no such thing at all. For I neither know nor can conceive of any such unreasonable exercise of the emotions or affections. If it be meant, on the other hand, that, though some act of the intellect be indeed uniformly involved, yet that it matters not what it is, and that faith does not take its complexion, as of moral value, from it, then I also think, with Harrington, that it is impossible to deny that such a doctrine will sanctify any sort of worship, and any sort of deity, provided men be sincere; are you prepared to contend for much?" Mr. Fellowes put an adroit objection here. "Why," said he, "you will not deny, surely, that even Scripture often commends, as good, a faith which is founded on a very imperfect conception of the spiritual realities to which it is directed?" "It is ingeniously put, I admit. I grant that there are here, as in so many other cases, limits which, though it may not be very easy to assign them, as plainly exist. But that does not answer my question. I want to know whether the principle is to be applied without limits at all, as your speculative theory demands? In other words, will it or not sanctify acts of the most degrading and pernicious idolatry, of the most debasing superstition, because allied to that state of the affections in which you make the essence of faith consist? If it will not, then your objection to me is nothing; it merely asks me to assign limits within which the exercise of the affection in question may be acceptable, or almost equally acceptable, in cases of a partially enlightened understanding. If it will, then it leaves you open, as I conceive, and fairly open, to all the objections which have been so brusquely urged against you by your friend, in whose indignant protest against the detestable apologies for the lowest forms of religious degradation, in which so many 'spiritual' writers indulge, I for one heartily sympathize." I ventured to add, that the account of "faith" as a state of the emotions exclusively, given by some of his favorite writers, is perfectly arbitrary. "Belief," say they, "is wholly intellectual: faith is wholly moral." Now it would be of very little consequence, if the terms be generally so understood, whether they be so used or not; men would, in that case, suppose that faith, thus restricted, implies a previous process of mind which is to be called exclusively belief. I added, however, that I did not believe that the word faith was ever thus understood in popular use; but that, on the contrary, it was employed to imply belief founded on knowledge, or supposed knowledge, and, where the belief was, in its very nature, practical, or involved emotion, a conduct and a state of the affections corresponding thereto. "But this," said I, "merely respects the Popular use of the words, and if is hardly worth while to prolong discussion on it. As to the reasoning which would show that belief does not properly exist at all, because it may be all resolved into reason, founded on the preponderance of evidence, where it does not matter whether that preponderance be a ton or a scruple,--surely it is over-refined. Men will always feel that there is a marked difference between the states of mind in which they assent to a proposition of which they have no more doubt than they have of their own existence, or to a proposition in the mathematics, and to one in which they feel that only a few grains turn the scale. To this conscious difference in the condition of mind, they have given (and I suppose will not give) very different names; and though they will continue to say that they believe that two and two make four, but that they know it, they will say that they believe that they will die before the end of the century, though they will not say that they know that. The distinction between the certain and the probable is felt to be far too important not to be marked by corresponding varieties of speech; and speech has made them according." ____ July 10. This morning Harrington fulfilled his promise of acquainting me with a few of the reasons which prevented his taking refuge in the "half-way houses" between the Bible and Religious Scepticism. Mr. Fellowes was an attentive listener. Harrington had entitled his paper,-- REASONS FOR DECLINING THE VIA MEDIA BETWEEN REVEALED RELIGION AND ATHEISM--OR SCEPTICISM WITH SPECIAL REFERENCE TO THE THEORIES OF MR. THEODORE PARKER AND MR. FRANCIS NEWMAN. I shall be brief; not being solicitous to suggest doubts to others, but merely to justify my own. Both Mr. Parker and Mr. Newman make themselves very merry with a "book-revelation," as they call it; and if they had given any thing better,--more rational or more certain than the Bible,--how gladly could I have joined in the ridicule! As it is, I doubt the solidity of the theories they support, and hardly doubt that, if the principles on which they reject the Bible be sound, they ought to go much farther. Both affirm the absurdity of a special external revelation to man; both, that the fountain of spiritual illumination is exclusively from within, and not from without. A few brief citations will set this point in a clear light. "Religion itself." says Mr. Parker, "must be the same thing in each man; not a similar thing, but just the same; differing only in degree."* "The Idea of God, as a fact given in man's nature, is permanent and alike in all; while the sentiment of God, though vague and mysterious, is always the same in itself." (ibid. p. 21)--"Of course, then, there is no difference but of words between revealed Religion and natural Religion; for all actual Religion is revealed in us, or it could not be felt." (ibid. p. 33). The Absolute Religion, which he affirms to be universally known, he defines as "Voluntary Obedience to the Law of God,--inward and outward Obedience to that law he has written on our nature, revealed in various ways through Instinct, Reason, Conscience, and the Religious Sentiment." (ibid. p. 34). Similarly, Mr. Newman says, "What God reveals to us he reveals within, through the medium of our moral and spiritual senses." (Soul, p. 59) "Christianity itself has practically confessed, what is theoretically clear,"--you must take his word for both,--"that an authoritative external revelation of moral and spiritual truth is essentially impossible to man." (Soul, p. 59) "No book-revelation can (without sapping its own pedestal) authoritatively dictate laws of human virtue, or alter our a priori view of the Divine character." (Ibid. p. 58) ---- * Discourses of Matters pertaining to Religion, p. 36. ---- "Happy race of men," one is ready to exclaim, with this Idea of God, one and the same in all; this "Absolute Religion," which is also "universal"; this internal revelation, which supersedes, by anticipating, all possible disclosures of an external revelation, and renders it an "impertinence." Men in all ages and nations must exhibit a delightful unanimity in their religious notions, sentiments, and practices! "They would do so," cries Mr. Parker; but unhappily, though the "idea" of God is "one and the same, and perfect" in all "when the proper conditions" are complied with, yet practically, if, in the majority of these proper "conditions are not observed"; (Discourses, p. 19) "the conception, which men universally form of God is always imperfect, sometimes self-contradictory and impossible"; "the primitive simplicity and beauty" of the "idea" are lost. And thus it is, he tells us, that, owing to this awkward "conceptions" the vast majority of the human race have been, and are, and for ages will be, sunk in the grossest Fetichism,--Polytheism,--and every form of absurd and misshapen Monotheism;--the horrors of all which he proceeds faithfully, but not too faithfully, to describe, and sometimes, when he is in the mood, to soften and extenuate; in order that he may find that the "grim Calmuck," and even the savage, "whose hands are smeared over with the blood of human sacrifices," are yet in possession of the "absolute Idea" and the "absolute religion." And what must we infer from Mr. Newman? The unanimity anticipated would, doubtless, be obtained, only that, unfortunately, there are various principles of man's nature which traverse the legitimate action and impede the due development of the "spiritual faculty"; and so man is apt to wander into a variety of those "degraded types" of religious development, which the dark panorama of this world's religions has ever presented to us, and presents still. "Awe," "wonder," "admiration," "sense of order," "sense of design," may all mislead the unhappy "spiritual faculty" into quagmires; and, in point of fact, have wheedled and corrupted it ten thousand times more frequently than it has hallowed them. This all history, past and present, shows. It is certainly unfortunate, and as mysterious, that those unlucky "conceptions" of God should have the best of it,--or rather, that the "idea" of God should have the worst of it; nor less so that Awe, Reverence, and so forth, should thus put the "spiritual faculty" so hopelessly hors de combat. Nevertheless, two questions naturally suggest themselves. Since the destructive "conceptions" have almost everywhere impaired the "Idea," and the "degraded types" seduced the "spiritual faculty,"--1st. What proof have we that man has an original and universal fountain of spiritual illumination in himself? and 2dly. If he have, but under such circumstances, is its utility so unquestionable that no space is left for the offices of an external revelation? First. What is the evidence of the uniform existence in man of any such definite faculty? When we say that any principle or faculty is common to the whole species, do we not make the proof of this depend upon the uniformity of the phenomena which exhibit it? When we say, for example, that hunger and thirst are universal appetites, is it not because we find them universal? or if we say that the senses of sight and hearing are characteristic of the race, do we not contend that these are so, because we find them uniform in such an immense variety of instances, that the exceptions are not worth reckoning? If men sometimes saw black where others saw white, some objects rectilinear which others saw curved, objects small which others saw large,--nay, the very same men at different times seeing the same objects differently colored, and of varying forms and attitudes, and every second man almost stone-blind into the bargain,--I rather think that, instead of saying men were endowed with one and the same power of vision, we should say that our nature exhibited only an imperfect and rudimentary tendency towards so desirable a faculty; but that a clear, uniform, faculty of vision there certainly was not. As I gaze upon the spectacle of the infinite diversities of religion, which variegate, but, alas! do not beautify the what is there to remind me of every uniformity of which I do see the indelible traces in every faculty really characteristic of our nature; as, for example, our senses and our appetites? Powerfully does Hume urge this argument in his--"Natural History of Religions." (Introduction) I have my doubts--admire the modesty of a sceptic--whether the entire phenomena of religion do not favor the conclusion, that man, in this respect, only the traces of an imperfect, truncated creature; that, he is in the predicament of the half-created lion so graphically described by Milton:-- "Now half appeared The tawny lion, pawings to get free His hinder parts"; only, unfortunately, man's "hinder parts"--his lower nature--have come up first, and appear, unhappily, prominent; while his nobler "moral and spiritual faculties" still seem stuck in the dust! There is, indeed, another hypothesis, which squares, perhaps, equally well with the phenomena,--I mean that of the Bible:--that man is not in his original state; that the religions constitution of his nature, in some way or other, has received a shock. But either this, or the supposition that man has been insufficiently equipped for the uniform elimination of religious truth, is, I think, alone in harmony with the facts; and to those facts, patent on the page of the whole world's history, I appeal for proof that man has not on these highest subjects, the certitude of any internal revelation, marked by the remotest analogy to those other undoubted principles and faculties which exhibit themselves with undeniable uniformity. It will perhaps be said, that the spiritual phenomena are not so uniform as those of sense,--as Mr. Parker and Mr. Newman both abundantly admit,--but that there is an approximate uniformity. And you must seek it, says Mr. Parker, in the "Absolute Religion" which animates every form of religion, and is equally found in all. I know the chatters about this incessantly; but when I attempt thus to "hunt the one in the many," as Plato would call it.--to seek the elusive unity in the infinite multiform,--to discover what it is which equally embalms all forms, from the Christianity of Paul to the religion of the "grim Calmuck," I acknowledge myself as much at loss as Martinus in endeavoring to catch the abstraction of a Lord Mayor; Mr. Parker, on the other hand, is like Crambe, "Who, to show his acuteness, swore that he could form an abstraction of a Lord Mayor, not only without his horse, gown, and gold chain, but even without stature, feature, color, hands, head, feet, or any body, which he supposed was the abstract of a Lord Mayor." Or if it be vain to attempt to abstract this Absolute Religion from all religions, as Mr. Parker indeed admits,--though it is truly in them,--and I take his definition from his "direct consciousness," --which direct consciousness we can see has been directly affected by his abjured Bible,--namely, "that it is voluntary obedience to will of God, outward and inward,"--why, what on earth does this vague generality do for us? What of God? Is he or it one or many? of infinite attributes or finite? of goodness and mercy equal to his power, or not? What is his will? How is he to be worshipped? Have we offended him? Is he placable or not? Is he to be approached only through a mediator of some kind, as nearly all mankind have believe but which Mr. Parker denies,--a queer proof, by the way, of the clearness of the internal oracle, if he be right,--or is he to be approached, as Mr. Parker believes, and Mr. Newman with him, without any mediator at all? Is it true that man is immortal, and knows it by immediate "insight," as Mr. Parker contends, or does the said "insight," as Mr. Newman believes, tell us nothing about the matter? Surely the "Absolute Religion," after having removed from it all in which different religions differ, is in danger of vanishing that imperfect susceptibility of some religion, which I have already conceded, and which is certainly not such a thing as to render an external revelation very obviously superfluous. It may be summed up in one imperfect article. All men and each may say, "I believe there is some being, superior in some respects to man, whom it is my duty or my interest to"--caelera desunt. To affirm that every man has this "Absolute Religion" without external revelation is much as if a man were to say that we have an "Absolute Philosophy" on the same terms, in virtue of man's having faculties which prompt him to philosophize in some way. All religions contain the Absolute Religion, says Mr. Parker: Just, I reply, as all philosophies contain the absolute philosophy. The philosophy of Plato, of Aristotle of Bacon, of Locke, of Leibnitz, of Reid, are all philosophies, no doubt; but that is all that is to be said. Even contraries must resemble one another in one point, or they could not be contrasted. In truth, there is, I think, a striking analogy between man's spiritual and intellectual condition; only his intellect is a little less variable than his "spiritual faculty"; far more so, however, than his senses. His animal nature is more defined than his intellectual, his intellectual than his spiritual and moral. All the phenomena point either to an imperfect organization of his nobler faculties, or to the doctrine of the "Fall." But further, surely if this internal oracle exists in man, every sincere and earnest soul, on interrogating his consciousness, would hear the indubitable response,--would enjoy the beatific vision of "spiritual insight." If this be asserted, I for one have to say to this representation, that, so far as my own consciousness informs me, I have honestly, sincerely, and with utmost diligence, interrogated my spirit; and I solemnly protest, that, apart from those external influences and that external instruction which the revelation from within is supposed to anticipate and supersede, I am not conscious that I should have any of the sentiments which either of these writers make the sum of religion. Even as to that fundamental position,--the existence of a Being of unlimited power and wisdom, (as to his unlimited goodness, I believe nothing but an external revelation can absolutely certify us,) I feel that I am much more indebted to those influences from design, which these writers made so light of, than to any clearness in the imperfect intuition: for if I found--and surely this is the true test--the traces of design less conspicuous in the external world, confusion there, as in the moral and in both greater than is now found in either; I extremely doubt whether the faintest surmise of such a Being would have suggested itself to me. But be that as it may; as to their other cardinal sentiments,--the nature of my relations to this Being,--his placability; if offended, --the terms of forgiveness, if any,--whether, as these gentlemen affirm, he is accessible to all, without any atonement or mediator;--as to all this, I solemnly declare, that, apart from external instruction; I cannot by interrogating my racked spirit, catch even a murmur. That it must be faint, indeed, in other men, so faint as to render the pretensions of the certitude of the internal revelation, and its independence of all external revelation, perfectly preposterous, I infer from this,--that they have, for the most part, arrived at diametrically opposite conclusions from those of these interpreters of the spiritual revelation. As to the articles, indeed; of man's immortality and a future state, it would be truly difficult for my "spiritual insight" to verify theirs; for, according to Mr. Parker, his "insight" affirms that man is immortal, and Mr. Newman's "insight" declares nothing about the matter! Nor is my consciousness, so far as I can trace it, mine only. This painful uncertainty has been the confession of multitudes of far greater minds; they have been so far from contending that we have naturally a clear utterance on these great questions, that they have acknowledged the necessity of an external revelation; and mankind in general, so far from thinking or feeling such light superfluous, have been constantly gasping after it, and adopted almost any thing that but bore the name. What, then, am I to think of this all-sufficient revelation from within? There is, indeed, an amusing answer of Mr. Newman's to the difficulty: but then it formally surrenders the whole argument. He says to those who say they are unconscious of those facts of spiritual pathology which he describes in his work on the "Soul," that the consciousness of the spiritual man is not the less true, that the unspiritual man is not privy to it; and this most devout gentleman somewhere quotes, with much unction, the words, "For the spiritual man judgeth all things, but himself is judged of no man." "I shall be curious to know," said I, interrupting him, "what you will reply to that argument?" Reply to it, said he, eagerly; does it require any reply?--However, I will read what I have written. Is it not plain, that while Mr. Newman is professedly anatomizing the spiritual nature of man, as man,--the functions and revelations of that inward oracle which supersedes and anticipates all external revelations--he is, in fact, anatomizing his own? What title has he, when avowedly explaining the phenomena of the religious faculty which he asserts to be inherent in humanity,--though how they should need explaining, if his theory be true, I know not,--what title has he, when men deny that they are conscious of the facts he describes, to raise refuge in his own private revelations, and that of the few whose privilege it is to be "born again" by a mysterious law which he says it is impossible for us to investigate? "We cannot pretend," he says, "to sound the mystery whence comes the new birth, in certain souls. To reply, 'The Spirit bloweth where He listeth,' confesses the mystery, and declines to explain it. But it is evident that individuals in Greece, in the third century before the Christian era, were already moving towards an intelligent heart-worship or had even begun to practise it!" (Soul, p.64) High time, I think, that after some thousands of years some few individuals should begin to manifest the phenomena of the universal revelation from within, if such a thing be! This is not to delineate the religions nature of humanity, but to reveal--yes, and to reveal externally--the religious nature of the elect few,--and few they are indeed,--who, by a mysterious infidel Calvinism, are permitted to attain, by direct intuition, and independent of all external revelation, the true sentiments and experiences of "spiritual insight." It this be Mr. Newman's solution of our difficulties, it is utterly nugatory. It is not to dissect the soul, "its sorrows and aspirations"; it is merely to give us the pathology--perhaps the morbid pathology--of Mr. Newman's soul; its sorrows and its aspirations. If the answer merely respected the practical value of a theory of spiritual sentiments, which all acknowledged, then Mr. Newman's answer might have some force; for certainly, only he who reduced that theory to practice, or attempted to do so, would have a right to conclude against the experience of him who did. But it is obvious that the question affects the theory itself, and especially the consciousness of those terms of possible communion with God, those relations of the soul to him, on the reception of which all the said spiritual experience must depend. How, then, stands the argument? I ask how I shall know the intimation of the spiritual faculty, which renders all "external revelation" an impertinence? I am told, with delicious vagueness, that I must gaze on the phenomena of spiritual consciousness; I say I exercise earnest and sincere self-scrutiny, and that I can discern nothing but shadowy forms, most of which do not answer to those which these new spiritualists describe; and then Mr. Newman turns round and says, that the unspiritual nature cannot discern them! What is this but to give up the only question of any importance to humanity,--which is not what are Mr. Newman's spiritual phenomena; if they are known to himself, it is well; he has been very long in discovering them, in spite of the clearness of the internal revelation;--but what are those of man? In the former be all, Mr. Newman is safe indeed; he is intrenched in his own peculiar consciousness, of which I am quite willing to admit that all other men (as well as I) are inadequate judges. But the monograph of a solitary enthusiast is of the least possible consequence to humanity. For reasons similar to those which render us incompetent to pronounce on his experience, he is incapable of judging of ours. There is only one other answer that I know of, and that is the answer which Fellowes made to me the other day, when you were not by:--"O, but you have the same spiritual consciousness as I have, only you are not aware of it?" I contented myself with saying, that I was just as able to comprehend a perception which is not perceived, as a consciousness which when sought was not to be found. The question is one of consciousness; you say you have it, I do not deny it; I have it not. Now, if we are not disputing as to whether it be a characteristic of humanity, it little matters: if we are, I plainly have the best of it, because want of uniformity in the phenomenon is destructive of the hypothesis. But I proceed to ask my second question. Is the "absolute religion" of Mr. Parker, or the "spiritual faculty" of Mr. Newman, of such singular use as to supersede all external revelation, since by the unfortunate "conceptions" of the one, and the "degraded types" of the other, it has for ages left man, and does, in fact, now leave him, to wallow in the lowest depths of the most debasing idolatry and superstition; since, by the confession of these very writers, the great bulk of mankind have been and are hideously mal-formed, in fact, spiritual cripples, and have been left to wander in infinitely varied paths of error, but always paths of error?--for Judaism and Christianity, though better forms, are, as well as other forms, --according to these writers,--full of fables and fancies, of lying legends and fantastical doctrines. Think for a moment of a "spiritual faculty," so bright as to anticipate all essential spiritual verities, --the universal possession of humanity,--which yet terminates in leaving the said humanity to grovel in every form of error, between the extremes of Fetichism, which consecrates a bit of stone, and Pantheism, which consecrates all the bits of stone in the universe, in fact, a sort of comprehensive Fetichism;--which leaves man to erect every thing into a God, provided it is none,--sun, moon, stars, a cat, a monkey, an onion, uncouth idols, sculptured marble; nay, a shapeless trunk,--which the devout impatience of the idolater does not stay to fashion into the likeness of a man, but gives it its apotheosis at once! Think of the venerable, wide-spread empire of the infinite forms of polytheism, the ancient Egyptian, Greek, Roman, Chinese, and Hindoo mythologies; and then acknowledge, that, if man has this faculty, it is either the most idle prerogative ever bestowed on a rational creature, or that, somehow or other, as the Bible affirms, it has been denaturalized and disabled. If, on the other hand, man has this faculty, and yet has never fallen, it can only be because he never stood; and then, no doubt, as John Bunyan hath it, "He that is down need fear no fall!" There is an answer, indeed, but it is one which, in my judgment, covers those who resort to it with the deepest shame. It is that which apologizes for all these abominations,--so humiliating and odious, by representing them as less humiliating and odious than they are. It is true that Mr. Parker, when it is his cue, is most eloquent in his denunciations of the infinite miseries and degradation which have followed the exorbitancies of the religious principle. Thus he says of superstition (and there are other innumerable passages to a similar effect), "To dismember the soul, the very image of God,--to lop off the most sacred affections,--to call Reason a liar, Conscience a devil's oracle, and cast Love clean out from the heart,--this is the last triumph of superstition, but one often witnessed in all the three forms of Religion, Fetichism, Polytheism, Monotheism; in all ages before Christ, in all ages after Christ." Far be it from me to deny it, or the similar horrors which he liberally shows flow from fanaticism. But then, at other times, that quintessence of all abstractions which all religions alike contain--the "absolute religion"--imparts such perfume and appetizing relish to the whole composition, that, like Dominie Sampson in Meg Merrilies's cuisine, Mr. P. finds the Devil's cookery-book not despicable. The things he so fearfully describes are but perversions of what is essentially good. The "forms," the "accidentals," of different religions become of little consequence; whether it be Jehovah or Jupiter, the infinite Creator or a divine cat, a holy and gracious God that is loved, or an impure demon that is feared,--all this is secondary, provided the principles of faith, simplicity, and earnestness--that is, blind credulity and idiotic stupidity--inspire the wretched votary; as if the perversions he deplores and condemns were not the necessary consequences of such religions themselves, or, rather, as if they were aught but the religions! In virtue of the "absolute religion," "many a savage smeared with human sacrifice," and the Christian martyr perishing with a prayer for his persecutors, are hastening together to the celestial banquet. I hope the "savage" will not go with "unwashen hands," I trust he may be Pharisee enough for that; I also hope the two will not sit next one another; otherwise the savage may be tempted to offer up a second sacrifice, and the Christian martyr be a martyr a second time. Hear him:--"He that worships truly, by whatever form,"--that is, who is sincere in his Fetichism, his idolatry, his sacrifices, though they may be human, --"worships the only God; he hears the prayer, whether called Brahma, Pan, or Lord, or called by no name at all. Each people has its prophets and its saints; and many a swarthy Indian who bowed down to wood and stone,--many a grim-faced Calmuck, who worshipped the great God of Storms,--many a Grecian peasant who did homage to Phoebus Apollo when the sun rose or went down,--yes, many a savage, his hands smeared all over with human sacrifice,--shall come from the East and the West, and sit down in the kingdom of God, with Moses and Zoroaster, with Socrates and Jesus." (Discourses, p. 83) The charity which hopes that men may be forgiven the crime of "religions" which, if there be a God at all, must be "abominations," one can understand; but these maudlin apologies for the religions themselves, --as if they were not themselves crimes, and involved crimes in their very practice,--I do not understand. According to this, all that man has to do is to be sincere in any thing, however diabolical, and it is at once transmuted into a virtue which nothing less than heaven can reward! Mr. Newman sometimes follows closely in Mr. Parker's steps in the exercise of this bastard toleration, this spurious charity; though, in justice, I must say, he does not go his length. Yet who can read without laughter that definition of idolatry, made apparently for the same preposterous purpose,--to sanctify the hideous absurdities of the "religious sentiment," and to save the credit of the "internal oracle"? He says,--"To worship as perfect and infinite one whom we know to be imperfect and finite, this is idolatry, and (in any bad sense) this alone ...... A man can but adore his own highest ideal; to forbid this is to forbid all religion to him. If, therefore, idolatry is to mean any thing wrong and bad, the word must be reserved for the cases in which a man degrades his ideal by worshipping something that falls short of it." (Soul, pp. 55, 56) So that the most degraded idolater, if he but come up to his own ideal of the Divinity, is none at all, but a respectable worshipper! It may be; but the idolater's ideal of God is, generally, the reality of what others call the Devil!--Only think of the divine ideal of a man who worships an image of his own making, with ten heads and twenty hands! The definition reminds me of that passage in which Pascal's Jesuit Father defines the moral sin of "idleness":--"It is," says he, "a grief that spiritual things should be spiritual, as if it should be regretted that the sacraments are the source of grace; and it is a mortal sin." "O Father!" said I, "I cannot imagine that any one can be idle in such a sense." "So Escobar says, 'I confess it is very seldom that any person fails into the sin of idleness.' Now, surely, you must see the necessity of a good definition!" No, no; few but Mr. Parker will affirm that the various religions which have overshadowed the world are essentially more one in virtue of the "absolute religion," than they are different in virtue of their principles, tendencies, practices, and forms; while in none --if we except Judaism and Christianity--is there enough of the "absolute religion" to keep them sweet. These apologies, odious as they are, are necessary if the credit of the "spiritual faculty" and the "absolute religion" is to be at all preserved. But, unhappily, it is not a tone which can be consistently preserved. Sometimes the religions of mankind are all tolerable enough, from the presence of the all-consecrating element; and sometimes, in spite of this great antiseptic, they are represented as the rotten, putrid things they are! And then another answer, equally empty with the former, is hinted to save the credit of the darling oracle. Its due influence has been perverted, its just expansion prevented, by the influence of national religions, by the intervention of the "historical" and "traditional," by false and pernicious education;--these things, it seems, have poisoned the waters of spiritual life in their source, else they had gushed out of the hidden fountains of the heart pure as crystal! Yes, it is too plain; "Bibliolatry" and "Historical Religion," in some shape,--Vedas, Koran, or Bible,--have been the world's bane. Had it not been for these, I suppose, we should everywhere have heard the invariable utterance of "spiritual religion" in the one dialect of the heart. It is too certain that the world has found its spiritual "Babel": the one dialect of the heart is yet to be heard. But I am not sure that the apologetic vein would not be wiser. For what is this plea, but to acknowledge that man is so constituted that the boasted "religious sentiment," the "spiritual faculty,"--if it exist at all, and is any thing more than an ill-defined tendency, --instead of being a glorious light which anticipates all external revelation, and renders it superfluous, is, in fact, about the feeblest in our nature; which everywhere and always is seduced and debauched by the most trumpery pretensions of the "historical" and "traditional"! It is not so with people's eyes; it is not so with people's appetites; no parental influence or early instruction can make men think that green is blue, or stones and chalk good for food. Yet this glorious faculty uniformly yields,--goes into shivers in the encounter! I, at least, will grant to Mr. Parker all he says of the pernicious and detestable character of the infinite variety of "false conceptions of God," and to Mr. Newman all he says of the "degraded types" of religion; but then it was Man himself that framed all those "false conceptions," and all those "degraded types." How came he thus universally to triumph over that divinely implanted faculty of spiritual discernment, which, if it exist, must be the most admirable feature of humanity; which these writers tell us anticipates all external truth, but which, it seems, greedily swallows all external error? It almost universally submits to the most contemptible pretensions of a revelation, and acknowledges that it dares not to pronounce on that, even when false, of which, even when true, it is to be the sole source! There never was an "historical" religion, however contemptible, that did not make its thousands of proselytes. Man has been easily led to embrace the most absurd systems of mythology and superstition, and is willing even to go to death for them. So far from venturing to set up the claims of the internal oracle in competition, man all but uniformly takes his religion from his fathers (no matter what), just as he takes his property; only the former, however worthless, he holds as infinitely the more precious. Even when he surrenders it, he still surrenders it to some other "historical" religion: it is to that he turns. Such men as Mr. Newman and Mr. Parker--though every one can see that their system too has been derived from without, that it is, in fact, nothing but a distorted Christianity--may be numbered by units. The vast bulk of mankind are unresisting victims of the "traditional" and "historical"; nay, rather eagerly ask for it, and willingly submit to it. What, then, can I infer, but either, 1st, that this vaunted internal faculty which supersedes all necessity of an external revelation is a delusion, and exists only as a vague and imperfect tendency; or, 2dly, that, as Christians say, it lies in ruins, and needs that external revelation, the possibility of which is denied; or, 3dly, that God has somehow made a great mistake in mingling the various elements of man's composition, and miscalculating the overmastering power of the "historical" and "traditional "; or, 4thly, that man, having the original faculty still bright and strong, and that brightness and strength sufficient for his guidance and support, is more hopelessly, deliberately, and diabolically wicked, in thus everywhere and always substituting error for truth, and superstition for religion,--in thus giving the historical and traditional the uniform ascendency over the moral and spiritual,--than even the most desperate Calvinist ever ventured to represent him! Surely he is the most detestable beast that ever crawled on the face of the earth, and, in a new and more portentous sense, "loves darkness rather than light." The fact is, that--so far from having even a suspicion that an external revelation is useless or impossible--he, as already said, greedily seeks for it, and devours it. Nay, so far from its being authenticated by the history, or vouched by the consciousness of the race, this very proposition--that man stands in no need of an external revelation--first comes to him, and rather late too, by an external revelation; even the revelation of such writers as Mr. Parker and Mr. Newman. The last has been a student of theology for twenty years, and has only just arrived at this conviction, that he needed no light, inasmuch as he had plenty of light "within." Brilliant, surely, it must have been! I can only say for myself, that I do not, even with such aid, find myself in any superfluous illumination, and would gladly accept, with Plato, some divine communication, of which, heathen as he was, he acknowledged the necessity. The mode of accounting for man's universal aberrations, from the tyranny of "Bibliolatry" and superstitious and pernicious "education," --seeing that it is a tyranny of man's own imposing,--is exactly like that by which some theologians seek to elude the argument of man's depravity; it is owing, they say, to the influence of a universally depraved education! But whence that universally depraved education they forget to tell us. Meantime, the inquirer is apt to put that universal proclivity in the matter of education to that very depravity for which it is to account. Similarly, one is apt to infer, from man's tendency to deviate into any path of religious superstition and folly, that the spiritual lantern he carries within casts but a feeble light upon hit path. This plea, therefore, is utterly worthless; for if it were true, that the influence of tradition and historic association, when once set up, could thus darken and debauch the natural faculty, whose specific office it was to convey, like the eye, specific intelligence, it would not account for the first tendencies of man to disown its authority in favor of an absurd and uniform submission to the usurpations of tradition and priestcraft. The faculty is universally feeble against this influence; it staggers; whether from weakness or drunkenness little matters, except that the last is the viler infirmity of the two. If we find a river turbid, it is of no consequence whether it was so as it issued from its fountain, or from pollutions which have been infused into its current lower down,--it is a turbid river still. On the whole, so far from admitting the principle of Mr. Newman, that a "book-revelation" of moral and spiritual truth is unnecessary, I should rather be disposed to infer the very contrary, from the uncertainty, vacillation, and feebleness of man's spiritual nature. I should be disposed to infer it, whether I look at the lessons which experience and history teach, or those taught by my own anxious and sincere scrutiny of my own consciousness. If it be, on the other hand, as he says, "impossible," mankind are in a very hopeless predicament, since it only proves that, the "spiritual insight" of man having unhappily failed the great majority of our race, it cannot be supplied by any external aid; that the malady, which is but too apparent, is also as apparently without a remedy. For myself, I must say that I find myself hopelessly at issue with him in virtue of the above axiom, whether I receive or reject his theory of religious truth; for, if that axiom be true, I must reject his theory of religion,--since it is nothing but a book-revelation to me,--issued by Mr. Newman, instead of the Bible or the Koran. On the other hand, if that theory be true, and I accept it, his maxim must be false, for the very same reason; since he himself will have given me a double book-revelation,--a revelation at once of the theory and of the genesis of religion, both of which are in many respects absolute novelties to my consciousness. But further; if we take the genesis of religion as described by either of these writers, and consider the infinite corruptions to which they both acknowledge a perverted, imperfect "development" of the "religious sentiment" and the "spiritual faculty" has led, one would imagine that an external communication from Heaven might be both very possible and very useful; useful, if only by cautioning men against those "false conceptions" which have so uniformly swamped the "idea," and those "degraded types," into which all the various principles of our nature have wheedled the "spiritual faculty." Only listen to a brief specimen of the "by-path meadows" which entice the poor soul from the direct course of its development, and judge whether a communication from Heaven, if it were only to the extent of a sign-post by the way-side, might not be of use! First comes "awe." "But even in this early stage," says Mr. Newman, "numberless deviations take place, and mark especially the rudest Paganism. We may embrace them under the general name of Fetichism, which here claims attention ...... But even in the midst of enlightened science, and highly literate ages, errors fundamentally identical with those of Fetichism may and do exist, and with the very same results." (Soul, pp. 7, 10.) Then comes wonder: "But of this likewise we find numerous degraded types in which the rising religion is marred ...... Of this we have eminent instances in the gods of Greece, and in the fairies of the German and Persian tribes ...... Under the same head will be included the grotesque devil-stories and other legends of the Middle Ages ...... Yet the dreadful alternative of gross superstition is this, that the graver view tends to cruel and horrible rites, while the fanciful and sportive sucks out the life-blood of devout feeling." (Ibid. pp. 14-16.) Then comes the sense of beauty: "This was strikingly illustrated in Greek sculpture. A statue of exquisite beauty, representing some hero, or an Apollo, because of its beauty, seemed to the Greeks a fit object of worship ...... An opposite danger is often remarked to accompany the use of all the fine arts as handmaids to religion; namely, that the would-be worshipper is so absorbed in mere beauty as never to rise into devotion." (Ibid. pp. 21, 23.) Then comes the sense of order; but, alas! Atheism and Pantheism, and other "degrading types," may be begotten of it! As I look at men thus tumbling into error along this wretched causeway to heaven, I seem to be viewing Addison's bridge of human life, with its broken arches, at each of which thousands are falling through. This way to the "celestial city" ought to be called the "Northwest Passage"; it has one, and only one, trait of your Christian path: "there will be few that find it." If, then, by the confession of these writers, the "false conceptions" and the "degraded types"--the result of what are as truly "principles" of man's nature as the supposed "spiritual faculty," only that this last always has the worst in the conflict--have universally, and for unknown ages, involved man in the darkest abysses of superstition, crime, and misery, surely external revelation is any thing but superfluous; and if impossible, so much the worse. The same truth is even formally evinced by the self-destructive course which both writers employ; for as the conditions of the development of our "spiritual nature," when not complied with, lead to all the deplorable consequences which they acknowledge, how do they propose to rectify them? Why, by "external" culture, proper discipline and training, judicious instruction, by enlightening mankind,--as we may suppose they are doing by these hopeful books of theirs! If man can do so much by his books, is it impossible that a book from God might do something more? But on this I will say nothing, since you tell me that you have heard attentively the conversation I had with my friend Fellowes the other day. I will therefore omit what I had written on this point ...... But I proceed to another, maintained by these writers, on which I confess I am equally sceptical. If they concede (as how can they help it?) that the "religious sentiment" and the "spiritual faculty" have somehow left humanity involved in the most deplorable perplexities and the most humiliating errors, they yet assure us that there is "a good time coming,"--an auspicious "progress" in virtue and religion, very gradual indeed, but sure and illimitable for the race collectively! Yes, "progress," that is 'the word; and a "progress" for the world at large, of which they speak as certainly as if they had received, at least on that point, that external revelation, the possibility of which they deny. A matter of spiritual "insight" I presume none will declare it to be, and the data are certainly far too meagre and unsatisfactory to make it calculation. Is Saul among the prophets? Yes; but, as usual, the truth (if it be a truth) for which they contend is, as with other parts of their system, a plagiarism from the abjured Bible. Now, if I must believe prophecy, I prefer the magnificent strains of Isaiah to the sentimental prose either of Mr. Parker or of Mr. Newman. I must modestly doubt whether, apart from the representations of the "books" they abjure as special "revelations," there is any thing in the history of the world which will justly a sober-minded man in coming to any positive conclusion as to this promised "progress" this infidel millennium, either the one way or the other. The chief facts, apart from such special information, would certainly point the other way. Look at the condition of the immense majority of the race in every age,--so far as we can gather any thing from history,--compare it with that of the immense majority at the present moment;--what does it tell us? Why, surely, that, if there be a destiny of indefinite "progress" in religion and virtue for the race collectively, the hand of the great clock moves so immeasurably slow that it is impossible to note it. The experience of the individual, nay, of recorded history,--if we can say there is any such thing,--fails to trace the movement of the index on the huge dial. If there be this progress for the race collectively, it must be accomplished in a cycle vast as those of the geological eras;--a deposit of a millionth of an inch of knowledge and virtue over the whole race in fifty million years or so! Mr. Newman is pleased to say, "Some nations sink, while others rise; but the lower and higher levels are both generally ascending." Has this level for the whole race been raised perceptibly within the memory of so-called history? Observe; I am not denying that the notion may be true: I am literally the sceptic I profess to be: I know not--apart from special information from a superhuman source--whether it be true or false. I am only venturing to laugh at men, who, denying any such information, affect to speak with any confidence on the solution of this prodigious problem, the data for solving which I contend we have not: while those we have, apart from the direct assurance of supposed inspiration, more plausibly point to an opposite conclusion. The conclusion which would more naturally suggest itself from the history of the past would be that of perpetual advance and perpetual retrogression, contemporaneously going on in different portions of the race,-- perpetual flux and reflux of the waves of knowledge and science an different shores; though, alas! as to "religion and virtue;" I fear that these, like the Mediterranean, are almost without their tides. For a "progress" in the former,--in the race collectively.--far more plausible arguments can be adduced than for a progress in the latter; yet how much might be said that appears to militate even against that. Think of the frequent and signal checks to civilization; its transference from seat to seat; the decay of races once celebrated for knowledge and art; the inundations of barbarism from time to time;--these things alone might make a sober mind pause before he predicted for the entire race a certain progress even in art and science. Experience would at most justify a philosopher in saying. "Perhaps, yes; perhaps no." But the argument becomes incomparably more doubtful when we come to "religion," and especially that particular form of it which such writers as Messrs. Parker and Newman believe will be preeminent and universal; towards which consummation it does not appear at present that the smallest conceivable advance has been made; since, with the exception of that infinitesimal party, of which they are among the chief, the immense majority of mankind persist in rejecting the sufficiency of the "internal" oracle, and are still found as strongly convinced as ever both of the possibility and necessity of an "external" revelation, and that, in some shape or other, it has been given! Nay, the facts, so far as we have any, seem all the other way; for no sooner had men been put approximately in possession of the pure "spiritual truth," which both Mr. Newman and Mr. Parker suppose to be characteristic in larger measure of Judaism and Christianity than of any other religion, than they busily began the work, not of improvement, but of corruption. The Jews corrupted their pure monotheistic truths into what these writers believe the fables, legends, miracles, and absurd dogmas of the Old Testament: and, as if that were not enough, proceeded to bury them in the huge absurdities of the Rabbinical traditions; the Christians, in like manner, corrupted the yet purer truths, which these writers affirm Christianity teaches, with what they also affirm to be the load of myth, fiction, false history, and monstrous doctrine, which make up nine tenths of the New Testament: and, as if that were not enough, proceeded, just as did the Jews, to "expand" the New Testament itself into the worse than Rabbinical traditions of the Papacy! From approximate "spiritual truth" to the supposed legends and false dogmas of the Pentateuch, from the supposed legends and dogmas of the Pentateuch to the absurdities of the Talmud;--again, from the approximate "spiritual truth" of Christianity to the supposed legends and fanciful doctrines of the New Testament, and from the legends and doctrines of the New Testament to the corruptions the Papacy;--surely these are queer proofs of a tendency to progress! A tendency to retrogradation is rather indicated. No sooner, it appears, does man proceed to obtain "spiritual truth" tolerably pure, as tested by such writers, than he proceeds incontinently to adulterate it! This unhappy and uniform tendency is also a curious comment on the impotence of the internal spiritual oracle, as against the ascendency of the "historical" and "traditional." Similar arguments of doubt may be derived from other facts. Over how many countries did primitive Christianity soon degenerate into such odious idolatry, that even the delusions of the "false prophet" have been considered (like the doom to "labor") as a sort of beneficent curse in comparison! What, again, for ages, was the history of those "Shemitic races," in which, of all "races," was found, according to Mr. Parker, the happiest "religious organization," by which they discovered, earlier than other "races," the great truths of Monotheism? One incessant bulimia for idolatry was their master-passion for ages; while for many ages past, as has been remarked by a countryman of Mr. Parker, their "happy religious organization" has been in deplorable ruins. I humbly venture, then, once again, to doubt whether any sober-minded man, apart from "special inspiration," can affirm that he has any grounds to utter a word about a "progress" in religion or virtue for the race collectively. But it is easy to see where these writers obtained the notion; they have stolen it from that Bible which as a special revelation they have abjured. I cannot help remarking here, that it is a most suspicious circumstance, if there be, indeed, any universal and sufficient "internal revelation," that these writers find every memorable advance of what they deem religious truth in unaccountable connection either with the happy "religious organization of one race," according to Mr. Parker, or in equally strange connection with the records of "two books" originating among that race; according to Mr. Newman. "The Bible," says the latter, "is pervaded by a sentiment which is implied everywhere, namely, the intimate sympathy of the Pure and Perfect God with the heart of each faithful worshipper. This is that which is wanting in Greek philosophers, English Deists, German Pantheists, and all formalists. This is that which so often edifies me in Christian writers and speakers, when I ever so much disbelieve the letter of their sentences." (Phases, p. 188.) It is unaccountably odd that the universal spiritual faculty should act thus capriciously, and equally odd that Mr. Newman does not perceive, that, if it were not for the "Bible," his religion would no more have assumed the peculiar task it has, than that of Aristotle or Cicero. Sentiments due to the still active influences of his Christian education he imputes to the direct intuitions of spiritual vision, just as we are apt to confound the original and acquired perceptions of our eyesight. He is in the condition of one who mistakes a reflected image for the object itself, or a forgotten suggestion of another for an original idea. In the camera obscura of his mind, he flatters himself that the colored forms there traced are the original inscriptions on the walls, forgetful of the little aperture which has let in the light; and not even disturbed by the untoward phenomenon, that the ideas thus contemplated are all upside down. But, surely, it is natural to ask,--How is it that Greek philosophers, Hindoo sages, Egyptian priests, English Deists,--that men of all other religions,--having always had access to the fountain of natural illumination within, have not also had their "Baxters, Leightons, Watts, Doddridges"? that the whole style of thought on this subject is so totally different in them all, by his own confession? If man possess the "spiritual faculty" attributed to him,--if it be a characteristic of humanity,--it will be surely generally manifested; and even if those disturbing causes, which he and Mr. Parker so plentifully provide, by which the genesis of religion is so unhappily marred, but which, alas! no revelation from without can ever counteract--prevent its uniform, or nearly uniform display, still its principal indications (partial though they may be everywhere) ought, at least, to be everywhere indifferently diffused throughout the race. Its manifestation may be sporadic, but it will be in one race as in another; it will not be suspiciously confined to one race with a peculiarly felicitous "religious organization," or to "two books" exclusively originating with that favored race. For his "spiritual" illumination, it is easy to see Mr. Newman's exclusive dependence on that Bible which he abjures as a special revelation. If it has not been so to mankind, it has, at least, been so to Mr. Newman. To it he perpetually runs for argument and illustration. Among those who will accept his infidelity I apprehend there will be few who will not recoil from his representations of spiritual experience, so obviously nothing more than a disguised and mutilated Christianity. They will say, that they do not wish the "new cloth sewed on to the old garment"; scarcely a soul amongst them will sympathize with his soul's "sorrows," or share his soul's "aspirations"! But, however these things may be, I now proceed to what I acknowledge is the most weighty topic of my argument; which is to prove that, if I acquiesce, on Mr. Newman's grounds, in the rejection of the Bible as a special revelation of God, I am compelled on the very same principles to go a few steps further, and to express doubts of the absolutely divine original of the World, and the administration thereof, just as he does of the divine original of the Bible. If I concede to Mr. Newman, however we may differ as to the moral and spiritual faculties of man, that these are yet the sole and ultimate court of appeal to us; that from our "intuitions" of right and wrong, of "moral and spiritual, truth," be they more perfect according to him, or more rudimentary and imperfect according to me, we must form a judgment of the moral bearings of every presumed external revelation of God,--I cannot do otherwise than reject much of the revelation of God in his presumed Works as unworthy of him, just as Mr. Newman does very much in his supposed Word as equally unworthy of him. Mr. Newman says, "Only by discerning that God has Virtues, similar in kind to human Virtues, do we know of his truthfulness and his goodness...... The nature of the case implies, that the human mind is competent to sit in moral and spiritual judgment on a professed revelation, and to decide (if the case seem to require it) in the following tone:--'This doctrine attributes to God that which we should all call harsh, cruel, or unjust in man: it is therefore intrinsically inadmissible; for if God may be (what we should call) cruel, he may equally well be (what we should call) a liar; and, if so, of what use is his word to us?'" (Soul, p. 58) Similarly Mr. Newman continually affirms that God reveals himself, when he reveals himself at all, within, and not without; as he says in his "Phases,"--"Of our moral and spiritual God we know nothing without,--every thing within. It is in the spirit that we meet him not in the communications of sense." (p. 52.) If I acquiesce in this judgment, I must apply the reasoning of the above passage to the "external revelation" of God in his Works, as well as to that in his Word; and the above reasoning will be equally valid, merely substituting one word for the other. We are to decide, if the case seem to require it, in the following tone:--"These phenomena--this conduct--implies what we should call in man harsh, or cruel, or unjust; it is, therefore, intrinsically inadmissible as God's work or God's conduct." Acting on his principles, Mr. Newman refuses to "depress" his conscience (as he says) to the Bible standard. He affirms, that in many cases the Bible sanctions, and even enjoins, things which shock his moral sense as flagrantly immoral, and he must therefore reject them as supposed to be sanctioned by God. He in different places gives instances;--as the supposed approbation of the assassination of Sisera by the wife of Heber, the command to Abraham to sacrifice his son, and the extermination of the Canaanites. Now, whether the Bible represents God, or not, in all these cases, as sanctioning the things in question, I shall not be at the pains to inquire, because I am willing to take it for granted that Mr. Newman's representation is perfectly correct. I only think that he ought, in consistency, to have gone a little further. Let him defend, as in perfect harmony with his "intuitions" of right and wrong, the undeniably similar instances which occur in the administration of the universe; or, if it be found impossible to solve those difficulties, let him acknowledge, either that our supposed essential "intuitions" of moral rectitude are not to be trusted, as applicable to the Supreme Being, and that therefore the argument from them against the Bible is inconclusive; or, that no such being exists; or, lastly, that he has conferred upon man an intuitive conception of moral equity and rectitude,--of the just and the unjust,--in most edifying contradiction to his own character and proceedings! Here Fellowes broke in:-- "If indeed there be any such instances; but I think Mr. Newman would reply, that they will be sought for in vain in the 'world,' however plentiful, as I admit they are, in the Bible." "I know not whether he would deny them or not," said Harrington; "but they are found in great abundance in the world notwithstanding, and this is my difficulty. If Mr. Newman were the creator of the universe, no question, none of these contradictions between 'intuitions' within, and stubborn 'facts' without, would be found. He has created a God after his own mind; if he could but have created a universe also after his own mind, we should doubtless have been relieved from all our perplexities. But, unhappily, we find in it, as I imagine, the very things which so startle Mr. Newman in the Scriptural representations of the divine character and proceedings. Is he not, like all other infidels, peculiarly scandalized, that God should have enjoined the extermination of the Canaanites? and yet does not God do still more startling things every day of our lives, and which appear less startling only because we are familiar with them,--at least, if we believe that the elements, pestilence, famine, in a word, destruction in all its forms, really fulfil his bidding? Is there any difference in the world between the cases, except that the terrible phenomena which we find it impossible to account for are on an infinitely larger scale, and in duration as ancient as the world? that they have, in fact, been going on for thousands of weary years, and for aught you or I can tell, and as Mr. Newman seems to think probable, for millions of years? Does not a pestilence or a famine send thousands of the guilty and the innocent alike--nay, thousands of those who know not their right hand from their left--to one common destruction? Does not God (if you suppose it his doing) swallow up whole cities by earthquake, or overwhelm them with volcanic fires? I say, is there any difference between the cases, except that the victims are very rarely so wicked as the Canaanites are said to have been, and that God in the one case himself does the very things which he commissions men to do in the other? Now, if the thing be wrong, I, for one, shall never think it less wrong to do it one's self than to do it by proxy." "But," said Fellowes, rather warmly, for he felt rather restive at this part of Harrington's discourse, "it is absurd to compare such sovereign acts of inexplicable will on the part of God with his command to a being so constituted as man to perform them." "Absurd be it," said Harrington, "only be so kind as to show it to be so, instead of saying so. I maintain that the one class of facts are just as 'inexplicable,' as you call it, as the other, and only appear otherwise because, in the one case, we daily see them, have become accustomed to them and, what is more than all, cannot deny them,--which last we can so promptly do in the other case; for Moses is not here to contradict us. But I rather think, that a being constituted morally and intellectually like us, who had never known any but a world of happiness, would just as promptly deny that God could ever perform such feats as are daily performed in this world! I repeat, that, if for some reasons ('inexplicable,' I grant you) God does not mind doing such things, he is not likely to hesitate to enjoin them; for reasons perhaps equally inexplicable. I say perhaps; for, as I compare such an event as the earthquake in Lisbon, or the plague in London, with the extermination of the Canaanites, I solemnly assure you that I find a greater difficulty, as far as my 'intuitions' go, in supposing the former event to have been effected by a divine agency than the latter. If we take the Scripture history, we must at least allow that the race thus doomed had long tried the patience of Heaven by their flagrant impiety and unnatural vices; that they had become a centre and a source (as we sometimes see collections of men to be) of moral pestilence, in the vicinage of which it was unsafe for men to dwell; that, as the Scriptures say (whether truly or falsely, I do not inquire), they had, filled up the measure of their iniquities.' Let this be supposed as fictitious as you please, still the whole proceeding is represented as a solemn judicial one; and supposing the events to have occurred just as they are narrated, it positively seems to me much less difficult to suppose them to harmonize with the character of a just and even beneficent being, than those wholesale butcheries which have desolated the world, in every hour of its long history, without any discrimination whatever of innocence or guilty; which, if they have inflicted unspeakable miseries on the immediate victims, have produced probably as much or more in the agony of the myriad myriads of hearts which have bled or broken in unavailing sorrow over the sufferings they could not relieve. Such things (I speak now only of what man has not in any sense inflicted) are, in your view, as undeniably the work of God as is the extermination of the Canaanites according to the Bible. Why, if God does not mind doing such things, are we to suppose that he minds on some occasions ordering them to be done; unless we suppose that man--delicate creature!--has more refined intuitions of right and wrong, and knows better what they are, than God himself? Now, Mr. Newman and you affirm, that to suppose God should have enjoined the destruction of the Canaanites is a contradiction of our moral intuitions; and that for this and similar reasons you cannot believe the Bible to be the word of God. I answer, that the things I have mentioned are in still more glaring contradiction to such 'intuitions'; than which none appears to me more clear than this,--that the morally innocent ought not to suffer; and I therefore doubt whether the above phenomena are the work of God. I must refuse, on the very same principle on which Mr. Newman disallows the Bible to be a true revelation of such a Being, to allow this universe to be so. In equally glaring inconsistency is the entire administration of this lower world with what appears to me a first principle of moral rectitude,--namely, that he who suffers a wrong to be inflicted on another, when he can prevent it, is responsible for the wrong itself. The whole world is full of such instances." "Ay," said Fellowes, eagerly, "we ought to prevent a wrong, provided we have the right as well as the power to interfere." "I am supposing that we have the right as well as the power; as, for example, to prevent a man from murdering his neighbor, or a thief from entering his dwelling. There are, no doubt, many acts which, from our very limited right, we should have no business to prevent; as, for example, to prevent a man from getting tipsy at his own table with his own wine. But no such limitation can apply to Him who is supposed to be the Absolute Monarch of the universe; and yet He (according to your view) notoriously does not interpose to prevent the daily commission of the most heinous wrongs and cruelties under which the earth has groaned, and hearts have been breaking, for thousands of years. You will say, perhaps, that in all such instances we must believe that there are some reasons for His conduct, though we cannot guess what they are. Ah! my friend, if you come to believing, you may believe also that the difficulties involved in the Scriptural representations of the Divine character and proceedings are susceptible of a similar solution. If you come to believing, I think the Christian can believe as well as you, and rather more consistently. But let me proceed." He then read on. It is plain, that, in accordance with our primitive "moral intuitions" (if we have any), we should hold him who had the power to prevent a wrong, and did not use it, as a participator and accomplice in the crime he did not prevent. Applying, therefore, the principles of Mr. Newman, I must refuse to acknowledge such conduct on the part of the Divine Being, and to say, that such things are not done by him. If I may trust my whisper of him, derived from analogous moral qualities in myself, I must believe that an administration which so ruthlessly permits these things is not his work; but that his power, wisdom, and goodness have been thwarted, baffled, and overmastered by some "omnipotent devil," to use Mr. Newman's expression; if it be, then that whisper of him cannot be trusted: the heathen was right, "Sunt superis sua jura." In other words, I feel that I must become an Atheist, a Pantheist, a Manichaean, or--what I am--a sceptic. All these perplexities are increased when I trace them up to that profound mystery in which they all originate,--I mean the permission of physical and moral evil. Either evil could have been prevented or not; if it could, its immense and horrible prevalence is at war with the intuition already referred to; if it could not, who shall prove it? I am no more able to contradict the intuitions of the intellect than those of the conscience; and if any thing can be called a contradiction of the former, it is to be told that a Being of infinite power, wisdom, and beneficence could not construct a world without an immensity of evil in it; no reason being assignable or even imaginable for such a proposition, except the fact that such a world has not been created! I am therefore compelled to doubt, whether such a universe be really the fabrication of such a Being. It is impossible to express my astonishment at the ease with which Mr. Newman disposes of the difficulties connected with the origin and perpetuation of physical and moral evil. His arguments are just two of the most hackneyed commonplaces with which metaphysicians have attempted to evade these stupendous difficulties; and it is not too much to say, that there never was a man who was not resolved that his theory must stand, who pretended to attach any importance to them. They are most gratuitously assumed, and even then are most trivial alleviations; a mere plaster of brown paper for a deep-seated cancer. I certainly know of no other man who has stood so unabashed in front of these awful forms. One almost envies him the truly childlike faith with which he waves his hand to these Alps, and says, "Be ye removed, and east into the sea"; but the feeling is exchanged for another, when he seems to rub his eyes, and exclaim, "Presto, they are gone sure enough!" while you still feel that you stand far within the circumference of their awful shadows. As to physical evil, Mr. Newman tells us, "Here may be sufficient to remark, that the difficulty on the Epicurean assumption, that physical case and comfort is the most valuable thing in the universe: but that is not true even with brutes. There is a certain perfection in the nature of each, consisting in the full development of all their powers, to which the existing order manifestly tends ...... As for susceptibility to pain, it is obviously essential to every part of corporeal life, and to discuss the question of degree is absurd. On the other hand, human capacity for sorrow is equally necessary to our whole moral nature, and sorrow itself is a most essential process for the perfecting of the soul." (Soul, pp. 43, 44.) This, then, is the fine balm for all the anguish under which the world has been groaning for these thousands of years! But, first, how does suffering tend to the perfection of the whole lower creation? It enfeebles, and at last destroys them, I know; but I am yet to Learn that it is essential to the perfection of animal life. Again, how does it minister to that of man, except he be more than the insect of the day, of which Mr. Newman's theology leaves him in utter doubt? And if he be immortal, how does it operate beneficially except as an instrument of moral improvement? And how rarely (comparatively) do we see that it has that effect! How often is it most prolonged and torturing in those who seem least to need it, and in those who are absolutely as yet incapable of learning from it; or, alas! are too evidently past learning from it! How often do we see, slowly sinking under the protracted agonies of consumption, cancer, or stone, all these various classes of mortals, without our being able to assign, or even conjecture, the slightest reason for such experiments! I acknowledge freely, all, at we can give no reasons for them; but it is to mock miserable humanity to give such reasons as these; doubly to mock it, if men be the ephemeral creatures which Mr. Newman's theology leaves in such doubt: since in that case we see not only (what we see at any rate) that physical evil does not always, nor even in many instances, produce a salutary moral effect, but that it hardly matters whether it does or not; for just as the poor patient may be beginning to be benefited by his discipline, and generally in consequence of it, he is unluckily annihilated; he dies of his medicine! Surely, if physical evil be this grand elixir, never was such a precious balm so improvidently expended. We may well say, only with much more reason, what the Jews said of Mary's box of ointment,--"Why was all this waste?" To be sure it is "given" in abundance "to the poor." And, at the best, this exquisite reasoning gives no account whatever of that suffering which falls upon innocent infancy and childhood. It destroys them, however, and effectually prevents their attaining the "perfection" which it is so admirable an instrument of developing, and that too before they can be morally benefited by the "salutary" sorrow it brings! "Susceptibility to pain," says Mr. Newman, "is essential to corporeal being." Yes, susceptibility to pain; just as a created being must be liable to annihilation. Must he be annihilated? Just as a hungry stomach must be liable to starvation. Must it be starved? The primary office of susceptibilities to pain would seem to be to forewarn us to provide against it. They certainly have that effect. Does it necessarily follow that they must involve anguish and death? Unless it be supposed, indeed, that nature, having provided such an admirable apparatus of "susceptibilities" of pain, thought it a thousand pities that they should not be employed. But when it comes to "moral evil," which Mr. Newman acknowledges cannot be so lightly disposed of, what then? Why, then he says, "Let the Gordian knot be cut." Well, what then? Why, then Mr. Newman frankly "assumes" that it is "transitory and finite," (Soul, p. 45.) and will one day vanish from the universe, a supposition for which he condescends to give no reason whatever. Stat pro ratione voluntas. That this "moral evil" should have existed at all, much more to so immense an extent, under the administration of supposed infinite power, wisdom, and benevolence, is the great difficulty; that it will ever cease to be, is a pure assumption for the nonce; but if it will one day entirely vanish, it is gratuitous to suppose it might not have been prevented. I, of course, acknowledge that we can give no answer to the questions involved in this transcendent mystery,--that our ignorance is absolute; but I do say, that, if I am to trust to those "intuitions" of the Divine Goodness, on whose warranty Mr. Newman and Mr. Parker reject the Bible, as containing what is unworthy of their conceptions of God, I am compelled to proceed further in the same direction; and repudiate, as unworthy of Him, not merely some of the phenomena of the Book which men profess to be His word, but also some of the phenomena of that universe which men profess to be His work. If I can only judge, as these gentlemen urge, of such a Being by the analogies of my own nature, no "intuition" of theirs can possibly seem stronger than do mine, that beings absolutely innocent ought not to suffer; that to inflict suffering upon them is injustice; that to permit any evils which we can prevent is in like manner to be accomplices in the crime. On those very principles of all moral judgment which Mr. Newman says are innate and our only rule, I say I am compelled to these conclusions; for if God does those things which are ordinarily attributed to Him, He acts as much in contravention of these intuitions as in any acts attributed to Him in the Bible. If it be said, that there may be reasons for such apparent violations of rectitude, which we cannot fathom, I deny it not: but that is to acknowledge that the supposed maxims derived from the analogies of our own being are most deceptive as applied to the Supreme; it is to remit us to an act of absolute faith, by which, with no greater effort, nor so great, we may be reconciled to similar mysteries of the Bible. But above all is it to do this, to say that the origin and permission of physical and moral evil are inexplicable; and it is to double this demand on faith, to declare that it was all necessary, and could not be evaded in the construction of the universe even by infinite power, directed by infinite wisdom, and both animated by an infinite benevolence! As far as I can trust my reason at all, nothing seems more improbable; and if I receive it by a transcendent exercise of faith, I may, as before, give the Bible the benefit of a like act. I am compelled, therefore, on such principles, either to adopt a Manichaean hypothesis of the universe, or do what I have done,--adopt none at all. I was talking to a friend on these subjects the other day: "Ah! but," said he, "many of those difficulties you mention oppress every hypothesis,--Christianity just as much as the rest." This, I replied, is no answer to me nor to you, if you have a particle of candor; still less is it one to the Christian, who consistently applies the same principle of absolute faith to things apparently a priori incredible, whether found in the works or in the word of God. But if you think the argument of any force, apply it to the next Christian you meet, and see what answer he will make to you; it will not trouble him. But it is far more ridiculous addressed to me. I ask for something in the place of that Bible of which the faithful application of your own principles deprives me; and when I affirm that the difficulties of the universe are no less than those of the Bible I have surrendered, you tell me that the perplexities of my new position are no greater than those of the old! That clearly will not do. I must go further. If I am to yield to pretensions of any kind, I would infinitely prefer the yoke of the Bible to that of Messrs. Parker and Newman; for it is to nothing else than their dogmatism I must yield, if I admit that the difficulties which compel me to doubt in the one case are less than those which compel me to doubt in the other. But it is not even true that the difficulties in question are left where they were by the adoption of any such theory as that of either Mr. Parker or Mr. Newman. I contend that they are all indefinitely increased. The Bible does at least give me a plausible account of some of the mysteries which baffle me: it tells me that man was created holy and happy; that he has fallen from his "excellent estate"; and hence the misery, ignorance, and guilt in which he is involved, and which have rendered revelation necessary. But--and it brings me to the last step of my argument--if I accept the theory of the universe propounded by these writers, not only am I left without any such approximate solutions, or, if that be thought too strong a term, without any such alleviations, but all the difficulties as regards the character, attributes, and administration of God, are increased a thousand-fold. The Scripture account of the "fall,"--however inexplicable it may be that God should have permitted it,--yet does expressly assert that, somehow or other, it is man's fault, not God's; that man is not in his normal condition, nor in the condition for which he was created. Dark as are the clouds which envelop the Divine Ruler, "their skirts are tinged with gold,"--pervaded and penetrated throughout their dusky depths by that mercy which assures us that, in some intelligible sense, this condition of man is contrary to the Divine Will, which, from the first, resolved to remedy it; and that a day is coming when what is mysterious shall be explained,--so far, at least, that what has been "wrong" shall be "righted." But what is the theory of the universe propounded by these writers? So hideous (I solemnly declare it) that I feel ten times more compelled to reject the universe as a work of an infinitely gracious, wise, and powerful Creator, than if the difficulties had been simply left where the Bible leaves them. According to their theory, man is now, just what he was at first,--as he came from his Creator's hand; or rather in some parts of the world (thanks to himself though) a little better than he was originally; that God cast man forth, so constituted by the unhappy mal-admixture of the elements of his nature,--with such an inevitable subjection of the "idea" to the "conception," of the "spiritual faculty" to "the degraded types,"--that for unnumbered ages--for aught we know, myriads of ages--man has been slowly crawling up, a very sloth in "progress" (poor beast!), from the lowest Fetichism to Polytheism,--from Polytheism, in all its infinitude of degrading forms, to imperfect forms of Monotheism; and how small a portion of the race have even imperfectly reached this last term, let the spectacle of the world's religions at the present moment proclaim! From the more imperfect forms of Monotheism, the race is gradually to make "progress" to something else,--Heaven knows what! but certainly something still far below the horizon,--still concealed in the illimitable future. For this gradual transformation from the veriest religions grub into the spiritual Psyche, man was expressly equipped by the constitution of his nature,--he was created this grub. For all this truly geological spiritualism, and for all the infinitude of hideous superstitions and cruel wrongs involved in the course of this precious development, Mr. Parker tells us there was a necessity,--nothing less! It was necessary, no doubt for his logic, that he should say so; but, apart from his own argumentative exigencies, it is impossible even to imagine any necessity whatever. It was an "ordeal," it seems, through which man was obliged to pass. What is all this, but to acknowledge the unaccountable nature of the problem? With this "religious" theory admirably coincides the hypothesis of man's having been originally created a savage, from which he was gradually exalted to the lowest stages of civilization,--a theory which I thought had (in mere shame) been abandoned to some few Deists of the last century, or the commencement of this. It is true that these writers do not expressly indorse it; but it is easy to see that they favor it; and it is most certain that it alone is consistent with their parallel theory of man's "religious development" from the vilest Fetichism to (shall we say?) a mythical Christianity; though even to that very few have yet arrived. According to this theory, the Great Father--supposed a being of infinite power, wisdom, and Goodness--threw his miserable offering on the face of the earth, with an admirable "absolute religion," no doubt, and an "admirable spiritual faculty," but the "idea" so inevitably subject to thwarting "conceptions," and the "spiritual faculty" so perpetually debauched by "awe and reverence," and the whole rabble of emotions and affections with which it was to keep company,--in fact, with the elements of his nature originally so ill poised and compounded, --that everywhere and for unnumbered ages man has been doomed and necessitated, and for unnumbered ages will be doomed and necessitated, to wallow in the most hideous, degrading, cruel forms of superstition, --inflicting and suffering reciprocally all the dreadful evils and wrongs which are entailed by them. For this man was created; such a thing he was,--through this "ordeal" he passes,--by original destination. If this be the picture of the Father of All, he is less kind to his off-spring than the most intimate "intuitions" teach them to be to theirs. The voice of nature teaches them not to expose their children; the Universal Father, according to this theory, remorselessly exposed his! Such a God, projected by the "spiritual faculties" of Mr. Newman and Mr. Parker, may be imagined to be a more worthy object of worship than the "God of the Bible": he shall never receive mine. If I am to abjure the Bible because it gives me unworthy conceptions of the Deity, I must, with more reason, abjure, on similar grounds, such a detestable theory of man's creation, destination, and history. As to that "progress" which is promised for the future, it is like the necessity for the past, purely an invention of Mr. Parker; if I receive it, I must receive it simply as matter of prophecy. If the necessity has continued so long, then, for aught I know, it may continue for ever; the evil is all too certain,--the bright futurity is still a futurity. But if it ever became a reality, it would not neutralize one of the dark imputations which such a theory of the original destination and creation of man casts on the Divine character; not to say, that, if Mr. Newman's doubts of man's immortality be well founded, that better future will be of no more avail to the myriads of our race who have suffered under the long iron regime of necessity, than a reprieve to the wretch who was executed yesterday! I told Harrington I must have a copy of the paper he had just read. I should like, with his leave, to publish it. "O, and welcome," said he. "Only remember that its tendency is to show that there is no tenable resting place between a revealed religion and none at all; between the Bible and scepticism. If you make men sceptics,--mind, it is not my fault." "I will take the risk," said I. "I wish the controversy to be brought to the issue you have mentioned. I know there will never be many sceptics, any more than there will be many atheists; and if men are convinced that the Via Media is as hard to find as you suppose,--or as that between Romanism and Protestantism,--they will take refuge in the BIBLE. And if it be the BOOK OF GOD indeed, this is the issue to which the great controversy will and ought to come. But how is it you were not tempted to become an atheist rather than a sceptic?" "Why," said he, with a smile, "the great master of the Modern Academy had fortified me against that. Hume, you know, confesses that, if men be discovered without any impression of a Deity,--genuine atheists,--we may assume that they will be found the most degraded of the species, and only one remove above the brutes. Now I have no wish to be set down in that category." "Very different." said I, "is the account our modern atheists give of themselves: they are contending that the banishment of God from the universe, by one or other of the various theories of Atheism or Pantheism (which I take to be the same thing, with different names), is the tendency of all modern science? and that when that science is perfect, God will be no more." "My dear uncle," replied Harrington, "you are insufficiently informed in the mystery of modern theology. There are no atheists, properly speaking; they who are so called merely deny any personal, conscious, intelligent sovereign of the universe. Even those who call themselves so, and will have it that they are so, are told that they are none. I myself have perused statements of some of our modern 'spiritualists,' who know every thing, even other people's consciousness quite as well as their own (and perhaps better), that the said atheists are mistaken in thinking themselves such; that such genuine love of the spirit of universal nature is something truly divine, and that they are animated by 'a deeply religious spirit,' though they never suspected it!" "Well," said I. "if you had too much reason, as you flattered yourself (adopting Hume's criterion), to become an atheist, could you not have adopted such views as those of Mr. G. Atkinson and Miss Martineau, who both possess surely (as they claim to possess) that 'religious reverence' of nature of which you have just spoken?" "Why," he replied, "I am afraid that, if I had too much reason for the one, I have not faith enough for the other. That the miracles and prophecies of the Bible may possibly have been true,--only the effect of mesmerism;--that things quite as wonderful, or more so, happen every day by this wonderful agent;--that every phenomenon that takes place does so in virtue a perfectly wise LAW, without any wise LAWGIVER;--that this wise law has, it seems, prearranged that man should generally exhibit an inveterate tendency to religious systems of some kind, though all religions are absurd, and persist in believing in his free will, though free from a downright impossibility;--that these contradictions and absurdities of man are the result of an irreversible necessity, and yet that Mr. Atkinson may hope to correct them;--that, by the same necessity, man is in no degree culpable or responsible, and yet that Mr. Atkinson may perpetually blame him; --that no man can do any thing 'wrong,' and yet that till he believes that, man will never cease to do it;--that people may read without their eyes, and distinguish colors as colors though they are born blind;--that Bacon was an atheist, and that this may be proved by induction from his own writings;--these and other paradoxes, which I must believe, if I believe Mr. Atkinson, require a faith which it would really be unreasonable to expect from such a sceptic as I am." ____ July 18. Till three days ago, nothing since my last date has occurred having any special relation to the sole object of this journal. I was glad to escape on the 13th to a quiet church some miles off; and, after a plain and simple, but earnest, sermon from a venerable clergyman (of whom I should like to know a little more), I further refreshed my spirit by a long and solitary ramble of some hours through the beautiful scenery in the midst of which Harrington's dwelling is situated. In the course of it, I reviewed my own early conflicts, and augured from them happier days for my beloved nephew. I went carefully over all the main points of the argument for and against the truth of Christianity, which in youth had so often occupied me, and resolved that on some fair opportunity I would recount my story to him and Mr. Fellowes. I little thought then that I should have a larger and very miscellaneous audience to listen to me. But this will account for my not being to seek (as they say) when the occasion presented itself. Three days ago (the 16th) a queer company assembled in Harrington's quiet house. The conversations and incidents connected with that day have led me to take refuge for the last two mornings in the solitude of my own chamber, that I might, undisturbed, recall and record them with as much accuracy and fulness as possible. Very much, indeed, that I wished to remember has vanished; but the substance of what too many said, as well as what I said myself made too deep an impression to be easily obliterated. Be it known to you, my dear brother, that I have been not a little amused, I may even say instructed, by a trick played by your madcap nephew, for the honor and glory, I suppose, of his scepticism, or for some other motive, not easily divined. He promised me significantly an entertainment, in which I should enjoy the "feast of reason and the flow of soul," by which I little thought that he was going to collect a rare party of "Rationalists" and "Spiritualists," in fact, representatives of all the more prominent forms, whether of belief or unbelief. I may as well call it the SCEPTIC'S SELECT PARTY. You remember, I doubt not, the humorous paper in the Spectator, in which Addison introduces the whimsical nobleman who used to invite to his table parties of men (strangers to one another) all characterized by some similar personal defect or infirmity. On one occasion, twelve wooden-legged men found stumping into his dining-room, one after another, making, of course, a terrible clatter; on another, twelve guests, who all had the misfortune to squint, amused their host with their ludicrous cross lights; and on a third, the same number of stutterers entertained him still more, not only by their uncouth impediment, but by the anger with which they began to sputter at one another, on the supposition that each was mocking his neighbor. A short-hand writer, behind the scenes, was employed to take down the conversation, which, says the witty essayist, was easily done, inasmuch as one of the gentlemen was a quarter of an hour in saying "that the ducks and green peas were very good," and another almost an equal time in assenting to it. At the conclusion, however, the derided guests became aware of the trick their entertainer had played upon them; and from their hands, quicker than their tongues, he was obliged to make a precipitate retreat. Our dinner-party of yesterday did not break up in any such fracas, nor was the conversation so unhappily restricted. Yet the company was hardly better assorted. To bring it together, Harrington ransacked his immediate circle, and Fellowes unconsciously recruited for him in the university town. Our host had provided for our mutual edification an Italian gentleman, with whom he had had some pleasant intercourse on the Continent, (by the way he spoke English uncommonly well,) and now staying with a Roman Catholic in the neighborhood: this gentleman himself, with whom Harrington, by means of his former friend, has knocked up an acquaintance (he is a liberal Catholic of the true British species); our acquaintance, Fellowes, with his love of "insight" and "spiritualism"! a young surgeon from ----., a rare, perhaps unique, specimen of conversion to certain crude atheistical speculations of Mr. Atkinson and Miss Martineau; a young Englishman (an acquaintance of Harrington's) just fresh from Germany, after sundry semesters at Bonn and Tubingen, five hundred fathoms deep in German philosophy, and who hardly came once to the surface during the whole entertainment; three Rationalists (acquaintances of Fellowes), standing at somewhat different points in the spiritual thermometer, one a devoted advocate of Strauss: add to these a Deist, no unworthy representative of the old English school; one or two others further gone still; a Roman Catholic priest, an admirer of Father Newman, who therefore believes every thing; our sceptical friend Harrington, who believes nothing; and myself, still fool enough to believe the Bible to be "divine," --and you will acknowledge that a more curious party never sat down to edify one another with their absurdities and contradictions. Questionable as was the entertainment for the mind, that for the body was unexceptionable. The dinner was excellent; our host performed his duties with admirable tact and grace; and somehow speedily put every body at his ease. Relieved, according to the judicious modern mode, of the care of supplying the plates of his guests, he had eye, ear, and tongue for every one, and leisure to direct the conversation into what channel he pleased. He took care to turn it for some time on indifferent topics; and each man lost his reserve and his frigidity almost before he was aware; so that, by the time dinner was fairly over, every one was ready for animated conversation. If any one began to have queer suspicions of his neighbors, he felt, as on board ship, that he was in for it, and bound, by common politeness, to make the best of it. The Deist, addressing himself to the Italian gentleman, asked him if he had heard lately from Italy. He replied in the negative. "I can tell you some news, then," said he. "They say that the head of the illustrious Guicciardini family has been just imprisoned at Florence, having been detected reading in Diodati's Bible a chapter in the Gospel of St. John. Supposing the fact true, for a moment, may I ask if it would be the wish of the Roman Catholic Church, were she to regain her power in England, to imprison every one who was found reading a chapter in John? If so, England would have to enlarge her prisons." "Not much," said one of the Rationalist gentlemen, laughing; "for if things go on as they have done, there will not, in a few years, be many who will be found reading a chapter in John." "Perhaps so," said Harrington, smiling, "but, if for the reason you would assign, few will be found in church either; and the ecclesiastical authorities might perhaps put you in prison for that instead." "O, I will answer for him!" said the Deist, who knew something of his plasticity; "our friend is very accommodating, and though he would not like to go to go to church, he would still less like to go to prison. And to church he would go; and look very devout into the bargain. But, however, I should like to hear what your Italian guest has to say to my question." The impatience of the English Catholic could not be repressed. "If," said he, "the Roman Catholic religion were to regain its ascendency to-morrow, it would leave our entire code of laws, liberties, and privileges just as it found them; it is one of the many calumnies with which our Church is continually treated, to say that she would act otherwise: and were it not so, I would immediately desert her." The Catholic priest did not look well pleased with this frank avowal. "I quite believe you," said our host. "I believe you are too much of an Englishman to say or to act otherwise." "So do I," said the Deist; "I moreover agree with you, that, if the Roman Catholic religion were to regain her ascendency to-morrow, she would leave all our privileges intact; but would she the next day, and the day after that? In other words, is it an essential principle with her to persecute,--as in this instance, to imprison for peeping between the leaves of the Bible,--or is it not? Do you think, Signor, that in such acts the principles of your Church are complied with or violated?" The Italian gentleman looked perplexed; he presumed that the Catholic Church complied with the actual laws of every country; and if such Country chose to deny religious liberty, the Church did not deem it requisite to declare opposition. "I fear that is no answer to my question," cried the other, a little cavalierly. "It cannot serve you, Signor. It would not, indeed, serve you anywhere for we know the anxiety with which Rome has expressly secured, in her recent concordat with Spain, the recognition of the most intolerant maxims. But least can it serve you in the Papal States, where, unluckily for your observation, the Pope is monarch. Your remark would imply that your Church favored the principles of religious liberty rather than otherwise, but did not deem it right to oppose the will of civil governments. Are we to understand by that, that the chief of the Papal States abhors as a Pope what he does as a sovereign? that in the one capacity he protests against what he allows in the other? No, no," continued this brusque assailant, "It is too late to talk in that way. If the Church of Rome really approve of religious liberty,--of such principles as those which govern England,--where are her protests and her efforts against intolerance and persecution where she still retains power? It is the least that humanity can expect of her. If not, let her plainly say that, when she regains power in England, she will reform us to the condition of Spain and Italy in this matter. For my part, I frankly acknowledge, that I have more respect for a Roman Catholic who proclaims that it is inconsistent for his Church to tolerate where it has the power to repress, because I see that that is her uniform practice, and therefore ought to be her avowed maxim." The Roman Catholic priest, who is a devoted admirer of Father Newman, said that he thought so too; and quoted some candid recent admissions to that effect from certain English Roman Catholic periodicals. "To employ," said he, "the very words of a recent convert to us from the Anglican Church, 'The Church of Rome may say, I cannot tolerate you; it is inconsistent with my principles; but you can tolerate me, for it is not inconsistent with yours." The Deist remarked that it was straightforward; that he admired it. "Though as an argument," said he, "it is much as if a robber should say to an honest man on the king's highway, 'How advantageously I am situated! You cannot rob me, for it is inconsistent with your principles; but I can rob you, for I have none.'" Another of the company observed that he feared it was in vain for the Church of Rome to contend that she was favorable to freedom of opinion, in any degree or form, so long as the "Index Expurgatorius" was in existence, or such stringent means adopted to repress the circulation and perusal of the Scriptures. The liberal English Catholic again chafed at this last indictment. "It was," he said, "another of the calumnies with which his Church was treated." "Hardly a calumny, my good sir," replied the other, "in the face of such facts as that which gave rise to the present conversation, of the encyclical letters of Pius VII., Leo XII., Gregory XVI., and many other Popes, and the well-known fact that it is impossible to obtain in Rome itself a copy of the Scriptures, except at an enormous price, and even then it must be read by special license. Pardon me," he continued, still addressing the English Catholic, "I mean nothing offensive to you; but neither I nor any other English Protestant can consent to admit you sincerely liberal English Roman Catholics to be in a condition to give us the requisite information touching the maxims and principles of your Church. You have been too long accustomed to enjoy and revere religious liberty, not to imagine your Church sympathizes with it; you do not realize what she is abroad; and if you be sincere in condemning such acts as that which led to this conversation, as inconsistent with her genuine principles, why the ominous silence of you and your co-religionists in all such cases? Where are your protests and efforts? How is it you do not denounce maxims and practices so rife throughout Papal Christendom, since you say you would denounce them, if it were attempted to realize them here? When you protest with one voice against these things as inconsistent (so you say) with the principles of your Church, and as therefore deeply dishonoring her,--whether your views on this point be right or wrong,--we shall at least admit you to have a title to give us an opinion on the subject." "Even then, though," said the Deist, "we may think it safer to consult the opinions, and, what is the practices, of the vast majority of the Roman Catholic Church, and her conduct in the countries in which she holds undisputed sway, and therefore I am anxious to hear whether the Signor would justify imprisonment for reading the Bible." Our host seemed to think that the conversation proceeded in this direction quite far enough; and his foreign guest should be made uncomfortable by these close inquiries, observed, sarcastically, that he was glad to find that the querists were so anxious to secure the inestimable privilege of freely reading Scriptures. "It is the more admirable," said he to last speaker, "as I am aware it is most disinterested; you having too little value for the Scriptures to read them yourself. Sic vos non vobis: you labor for others. You remind me of the colloquy in the 'Citizen of the World,' between the debtor in jail and the soldier outside his prison window. They were discussing, you recollect, the chances of a French invasion. 'For my part,' cries the prisoner, 'the greatest of my apprehensions is for our freedom; if the French should conquer, what would become of English liberty? 'It is not so much our liberties,' says the soldier, with a profane oath, 'as our religion, that would suffer by such a change; ay, our religion, my lads!'" The company laughed, and the assailants forgot the former topics. Our host went on further to encourage his foreign guest, though in a left-handed way, with a gravity which, if I had not known him, would not only have staggered, but even imposed upon me. "For my part," said he, "my good Sir, if I were you, I should not hesitate to acknowledge at once that it is not only the true policy, but the solemn duty, of the Church of Rome to seclude as much as possible the Scriptures from the people." The gentleman looked gratified, and the guests were all attention. "In my judgment much more can be said on behalf of the practice than at first appears; and if I sincerely believed all you do, I should certainly advocate the most stringent measures of repression." The foreigner began to look quite at his ease. "For example," continued Harrington, in a very quiet tone, "supposing I believed, as you do, that the Holy Virgin is entitled to all the honors which you pay her, so that, as is well known, in Italy and other countries, she even eclipses her Son, and is more eagerly and fondly worshipped,--it would be impossible for me to peruse the meagre accounts given in the New Testament of this so prominent an object of Catholic reverence and worship,--to read the brief, frigid, not to say harsh speeches of Christ,--to contemplate the stolidity of the Apostles with regard to her, throughout their Epistles,--never even mentioning her name,--I say it would be impossible for me to read all this without having the idea suggested that it was never intended that I should pay her such homage as you demand for her, or without feeling suspicious that the New Testament disowned it and knew nothing of it." "Very true," said the Italian: "I must say that I have often felt that there is such a danger to myself." "Similarly, what a shock would it perpetually be to my deep reverence for the spiritual head of the Church, and my conviction of his undoubted inheritance, from the Prince of the Apostles, of his august prerogatives, to find no trace of such a personage as the Pope in the sacred page,--the title of 'Bishop of Rome' never whispered,--no hint given that Peter was ever even there! I really think it would be impossible to read the book without feeling my flesh creep and my heart full of doubt. Similarly, take that single mystery of 'transubstantiation'; though it seems sufficiently asserted in one text, which therefore it well (as is, indeed, the practice with every pious Catholic) continually to quote alone, yet, when I look into other portions of the New Testament, I see how perpetually Christ is employing metaphors equally strong, without any such mystery being attached to them. I cannot but feel that I and every other vulgar reader would be sure to be exposed to the peril of suspecting that in that single case a metaphorical meaning much more probable than so great a mystery." "You reason fairly, my dear Sir," said the Italian. "Again," continued Harrington, blandly bowing to the compliment, "believing, as I should, in the efficacy of the intercessions of the saints, in the worship of images, in seven sacraments, in indulgences, and necessity of observing a ritual incomparably more elaborate than an undeveloped Christianity admitted, how very, very apt I should be to misinterpret many passages, both in the Old Testament and the New! How is it possible that the vulgar reader should be able to limit the command not to bow down 'to any graven image' to its true meaning,--that is, 'to any image' except those of the Virgin and all the saints; to interpret aright the passages which speak so absolutely about the one Mediator and Intercessor, when there are thousands! How will he be necessarily startled to find 'seven' sacraments grown out of 'two'! How will he be shocked at the apparent--of course only apparent--contempt with which St. Paul speaks of ritual and ceremonial matters, of the futility of 'fasts' and distinctions of 'meats and drinks,' of observing 'days and months and years.' and so on. His whole language, I contend, would necessarily mislead the simple into heresies innumerable. Of numberless texts, again, even if the meaning were not mistaken, the true meaning would never be discovered unless the Church had declared it. Who, for example, would have supposed that the doctrine of the Pope's supremacy and universal jurisdiction lay hid under expressions such as 'I say unto thee that thou art Peter,' and 'Feed my sheep'; or that the two swords of the Prince of the Apostles meant the temporal and spiritual authority with which he was invested? Under such circumstances, I must say, that, if I were a devout Catholic, I should plead for the absolute suppression of a book so infinitely likely--nay, so necessarily certain--to mislead." "It is precisely on that ground," said the Italian, "and on that ground only, the welfare of the Church, that our Holy Mother does not approve of the Bible being read generally. The true theory of the Roman Catholic Church would never be elicited from it." "Precisely so," said our host, gravely; "I am sure it could not." "But then," remarked our friend, the Deist, "since the Church of Rome holds this book to be the inspired revelation of God to mankind, is it not singular to say that this 'revelation' requires to be carefully concealed from mankind; that the Bible is invaluable, indeed, but only while it is unread; and that, in fact, the Church knows herself better than Jesus Christ himself did? for in that book we are supposed to have the words of Him and her founders, and yet it seems they could only mislead! 'Never man spake like this man,' may well be said of Christ, if this were true." "Never mind him, Signor," said our host. "He secretly cannot but approve of your end, though he disapproves the means." The Deist looked surprised. "Why, have you not sometimes said that you believe the Bible to be, in many respects, a most pernicious book? that many of the most obstinate and dangerous prejudices of mankind are principally due to it? and that you wish it were in your power to destroy it?" "Well, I certainly have thought so, if not said so." "Then you approve of the end, though you disapprove of the means. You ought to thank our friend here, and regret that his work is not done more effectually. But enough of this. I must not have my respected Roman Catholic guests alone put on the defensive. The Signor fairly tells us what his system is in relation to the Bible and why he would place it under lock and key; he tells you also what better thing he substitutes when he removes the Bible. I really think it is but fair and candid in you to do as much. I know you all believe that you are not only in quest of religious truth, but have found it to some extent or other:--for my own part I am exempted from speaking; for I have given over the search in despair." This frank acknowledgment was followed by some highly curious conversation, of which I regret my inability to recall all the particulars. Suffice it to say, that there were not two who were agreed either as to the grounds on which Christianity was deemed a thing of naught, or on what was to be substituted in its place; one even had his doubts whether any thing need be substituted, and another thought that any thing might be. One of the Rationalists was a little offended at being supposed willing to "abandon" the Bible at all: he declared, on the contrary, his unfeigned reverence for the New Testament at least, as containing, in larger mass and purer ore than any other book in the world, the principles of ethical truth; that he was willing even to admit--with exquisite naivete--that it was inspired in the same sense in which Plato's Dialogues and the Koran were inspired; he merely dispensed with all that was supernatural and miraculous and mystical! The Deist laughed, and told him that he believed just as much, if that constituted a Christian. "I believe," said he, "that the New Testament is quite as much inspired as the Koran of Mahomet; and that it contains more of ethical truth (however it came there) than is to be found in any other book of equal bulk. But," he proceeded, "if you dispense with all that is miraculous in the facts, and all that is peculiar and characteristic in the doctrines,--that is, all which discriminates Christianity from any other religion,--I am afraid that your Christianity is own born brother to my Infidelity. As for your reverence for this inspired book, since you must reject ninety per cent. of the whole, it seems to me very gratuitous; equally so, whether you suppose the compilers believed or disbelieved the facts and doctrines you reject; if the former, and they were deceived, they must have been inspired idiots; if the latter, and were deceiving others, they were surely inspired knaves. For my part," he continued, "while I hold that the book somehow does unaccountably contain more of the morally true and beautiful than any book of equal extent, I also hold that Christianity itself is a pure imposture from beginning to end." This coarse avowal of adherence to the elder, and, after all, more intelligible deism, brought down upon him at once two of the company. One was the disciple of Strauss (I mean as regards his theory of the origin of Christianity, not as regards his Pantheism); the other a Rationalist, with about the same small tatters of Christianity fluttering about him, but who was a little disposed, like so many German theologians, to consider Strauss as somewhat passe. Unhappily, got athwart each other's bows shortly after they into action. They both enlarged--really in a edifying manner, I could have listened to them an hour--on the absurdity of the Deist's argument! "What!" cried one; "the purest system of ethics from the most shameless impostors!" "And what do you make of the infinitely varied and inimitable marks of simplicity and honesty in the writers?" cried the other. "And who does not see the impossibility of getting up the miracles so as to impose upon a world of bitter and prejudiced enemies in open day?" exclaimed the Rationalist. "They were obviously mere myths," cried the Straussian. "That I must beg to doubt," said the other. And now, as they proceeded to give each his own solution of the difficulty, the scene became comic in the extreme. The Rationalist ridiculed the notion that nations and races, all of whom, in the nature of things, must have been prejudiced against such myths as those of Christianity, could originate or would believe them; and still more, the notion that in so short a space of time these wildest of wild legends (if legends at all) could induce the world to acquiesce in them as historic realities! In his zeal he even said, that, though not altogether satisfied with it, he would sooner believe all the frigid glosses by which the school of Paulus had endeavored to resolve the miracles into misunderstood "natural phenomena." As the dispute became more animated between these three champions, they exhibited a delicate trait of human nature, which I saw our sceptical host most maliciously enjoyed. Each became more anxious to prove that his mode of proving Christianity false was the true mode, than to prove the falsehood of Christianity itself. "I tell you what," said the Straussian, with some warmth, "sooner than believe all the absurdities of such an hypothesis as that of Paulus, I could believe Christianity to be what it professes to be." "I may say the same of that of Strauss," said the other, with equal asperity; "if I had no better escape than his, I could say to him, as Agippa to Paul, 'Almost thou persuadest me to be a Christian.'" "For my part," exclaimed the Deist, who was perfectly contented with his brief solution,--the difficulties of the problem he had never had the patience to master, --"I should rather say, as Festus to Paul, 'Much learning has made you both mad': and sooner than believe the impossibilities of the theory of either,--sooner than suppose men honestly and guilelessly to have misled the world by a book which you and I admit to be a tissue of fables, legends, and mystical non-sense,--I could almost find it in my heart to go over to the Pope himself." "Good," whispered our host to me, who sat at his left hand; "we shall have them all becoming Christians, by and by, just to spite one another." The admirer of Mr. Atkinson and Miss Martineau here reminded the company that the miracles of the New Testament might be true,--only the result of mesmerism. "Christ," said he, "to employ the words of Mr. Atkinson, was constitutionally a clairvoyant ..... Prophecy and miracle and inspiration are the effects of abnormal conditions of man ..... Prophecy, clairvoyance, healing by touch, visions, dreams, revelations, .... are now known to be simple matters in nature, which may be induced at will, and experimented upon at our firesides, here in England (climate and other circumstances permitting), as well as in the Holy Land."* But no one seemed prepared to receive this hypothesis. At last, our host, addressing the Deist, said, "But you forget, Mr. M., that, though you find it insurmountably difficult to conceive a book full of lies (as you express it) to have been, consciously or unconsciously, the product of honest and guileless minds, you ought to find it a little difficult to conceive a book (as you admit the New Testament to be) of profound moral worth produced by shameless impostors. But let that pass. Let us assume that Christianity, as a supernaturally revealed and miraculously authenticated system, is false, though you are dolefully at variance as to how it is to be proved so; let us assume, I say, that this system is false, and dismiss it. I am much more anxious to hear what is the positive system of religious truth, which you are of course each persuaded is the true one. I have left off to seek,' but if any one will find the truth for me without my 'seeking' it, how rejoiced shall I be!" --- * He cited the substance of these sentiments. I have since referred to, and here quote, the ipsissima verba. See "Letters," &c., pp. 175, 212. --- Painful as were the "revelations" which ensued, I would not have missed them on any account. "In vino veritas," says the proverb which on this occasion lied most vilely; yet it was true in the only sense in which "veritas" is there used; for there was unbounded candor and frankness, under the inspiring hospitality of our host, aided by his skilful management of the conversation. Nor was there, I am bound to say, much of coarse ribaldry, even from the free-spoken representative of the Tindals and Woolstons of other days. But the varieties of judgment and opinion in that small company were almost numberless. Fellowes, and two of the Rationalists, were firm believers in the theory of "insight"; that the human spirit derives, by immediate intuition from the "depths" of its consciousness, a "revelation of religious and spiritual truth." They differed, however, as to several articles; but especially as to the little point, whether the fact of man's future existence was amongst the intimations of man's religious nature; one contending that it was, another that it was not, and Fellowes, as usual, with several more of the company, declaring that their consciousness told them nothing about the matter either way. But when some one further declared, amidst these very disputes, that this internal revelation was so clear and plain as not only to anticipate and supersede any "external" revelation, but to render it "impossible" to be given, our host suddenly broke out into a fit of laughter. The disputants were silent, and every one looked to him for an explanation. He seemed to feel that it was due, and, after apologizing for his rudeness, said, that, while some of them were asserting man's clear internal revelation, he could not help thinking of the whimsical contrast presented by the diversified speculations and opinions of even this little party, and the infinitely more whimsical contrast presented by the gross delusions of polytheism and superstition, which in such endless variations of form and unchanging identity of folly had misled the nations of the earth for so many thousands of years: "And just then," said he, "it occurred to me what a curious commentary it would be on the asserted unity and sufficiency of 'internal revelation,' if the 'Great Exhibition of the Industry of all Nations' were followed up by a 'Great Exhibition of the Idolatry of all Nations' under the same roof. Thither night be brought specimens of the ingenious handicraft of men in the manufacture of deities; we might have the whole process, in all its varieties, complete; the raw material of a God in a block of stone or wood, and the most finished specimen in the shape of a Phidian Jupiter; the countless bits of trumpery which Fetichism has ever consecrated; the divine monsters of ancient Egypt, and the equally divine monsters of modern India; the infinite array of grim deformities hallowed by American, Asiatic, and African superstition. I imagined, notwithstanding the vastness of that Crystal Pantheon, there would still be crowds of their godships who would be obliged to wait outside, having come too late to exhibit their perfections to advantage. However, as I went in fancy up the long aisles, and saw, to the right and the left, the admiring crowds of worshippers, grimacing, and mowing, and prostrating themselves, with a folly which might lead one reasonably to suppose, that, miserable as were the gods, they were gods indeed compared with such worshippers, I imagined my worthy friend Fellowes in the corner where the Bible, in its 120 languages, is now kept, employed in delivering a lecture on the admirable clearness of those intuitions of spiritual truth which constitute each man's particular oracle, and the superfluity of all 'external' revelation. This was, I confess, a little too much for my gravity, and I was involuntarily guilty of the rudeness for which I now apologize." It was certainly a ridiculous vision enough; and we made ourselves very merry by pursuing it for a little while. Presently the company resumed their solutions off the great problem. The Deist remarked, "that one and only one thing was plain, and indubitable,"--for he was a dogmatist in his way;--it was, "that intellect and power to an indefinite extent had been at work in the universe, but whether the Being to whom these attributes belonged took any cognizance of man, or his actions, he had never been able to make up his mind." "Yet surely it does make a slight difference," said Harrington, "since if God takes no cognizance of man, then, as Cicero long ago remarked of the idle dogs of Epicurus, --I mean gods of Epicurus, I beg their pardon, but really it does not matter which consonant comes first,--atheism and deism are much the same thing." "Why," said the Deist, "there is as much difference as in the theories of our 'intuitional' friends here, one of whom admits, and another denies, the future existence of man; for if we be the ephemeral insects the latter supposes, it little matters what system of religion we espouse or abjure. However, I am clear that, if God require any duty of us, it is that we should reverence him as the Creator of all things,--prayer to him is an absurdity,--and perform those offices of honest men which are so clearly the dictates of conscience,--the reward and punishment being exclusively the result of present laws." "Which laws," said his next neighbor, "often secure no reward or punishment at all,--or rather, often give the reward to the vice of man, and the punishment to his virtue." "Very true," rejoined the Deist, "and I must say,"--sagely shaking his head,--"that such things make me often suspect the whole of that slippery, uncertain thing called 'natural religion,' whether as taught by the elder deists or modified by our modern spiritualists. Surely they may be abundantly charged with the same faults with which they tax the Christian; for they are full of interminable disputes about the 'truths' or 'sentiments' of their theology." One of those who had gone further than our Deists felt disposed to question all "immutable morality" original "dictates of conscience." "I doubt," said he, "whether those dictates are any clearer than those dogmas of 'natural religion' which have been so oppugned; and I judge so for the same reason,--the endless disputes of men with regard to the source, the rule, the obligation of what they call duty; which are exactly similar to the disputes which we charge upon the Natural Religionist and the Christian." And here he ran through half a dozen of the two score theories which the history of ethics presents, rare work with Plato and Aristotle, Hobbes, Cudworth, Mandeville, and Bentham. "Meantime," he concluded, "we do see, in point of fact, that the moral rule is most flexible, and to an indeterminate degree the creature of association, custom, and education, so that I am inclined to think that that alone is obligatory which the positive laws and institutions of any society render binding." "So that" cried Harrington, "a man both may and ought to thieve in ancient Sparta, may expose his parents in Hindostan, and commit infanticide in China!" "It is a pity," archly whispered the Italian guest, "that this gentleman was not born in China." "It is a respectable, but very old speculation," said Harrington, "of which many ancient moralists avowed themselves the advocates, but of which it is only fair to admit that Plato and many other heathens were heartily ashamed." It seemed as if the bathos of theological and ethical absurdity could not lie deeper; but I was mistaken. The admirer of Mr. Atkinson declared with great modesty that he thought, as did his favorite author, that the whole world had been mad on the subject of theology and morality;--that the prime error consisted in the superficial notion of a Personal Deity, and the foolish attribution of the notion of "sin" and "crime" to human motives and conduct, instead of regarding the former as a name of an absolutely unknown cause of the entire phenomena of the universe, and the latter as part of a series of rigidly necessary antecedents and consequents, for which man is no more to be either blamed or praised than the sun for shining or the avalanche for falling; he added, that only in this way could man attain peace. "As Mr. Atkinson beautifully says, 'What a hopeful and calming influence has such a contemplation of nature! At this moment it is not I, but the nature within me, that dictates my speech and guides my pen. I am what I am. I cannot alter my will, or be other than what I am, and cannot deserve either reward or punishment.' But I feel with him, 'We may preach these things, and men may think us mad or something worse.'" (Pp. 190, 191.) "And perhaps justly," said Harrington, with a laugh, "for nature has surely, after so many thousands of years, let you know what her law is, and you say that that law is necessary and irreversible, and yet you strive to alter it! You had better leave men to their necessary absurdities." "Nay," said the other, "as Mr. Atkinson says, from the recognition of a universal law we shall develop a universal love; the disposition and ability to love without offence or ill-feeling towards any; or, as Miss Martineau represents it,--When the mind has completely surmounted every idea of a personal God, of a supreme will, 'what repose begins to pervade the mind! What clearness of moral purpose naturally ensues! and what healthful activity of the moral faculties!' (p. 219) .... What a new perception we obtain of the "beauty of holiness,"--the loveliness of a healthful moral condition,--accordant with the laws of natures, and not with the requisitions of theology!'" (p. 219.) I got him afterwards to show me these passages, for I could hardly believe that he had quoted them right. "And as for morality," continued he, "the knowledge which mesmerism gives of the influence of body on body, and consequently of mind on mind, will bring about a morality we have not yet dreamed of. And who shall disguise his nature and his acts when we cannot be sure at any moment that we are free from the clairvoyant eye of some one who is observing our actions and most secret thoughts; and our whole character and history may be read off at any moment!" (H. G. A. to H. M., p. 280.) What an admirable substitute, thought I, for the idea of an omnipresent and omniscient Deity! Who will not abstain from lying and stealing when he thinks, there is possibly some clairvoyant at the antipodes in mesmeric rapport with his own spirit, and perhaps, by the way, in very sympathizing rapport, if the clairvoyant happen to be in Australia? It was at this point that our young friend from Germany broke in. "I hold that you are right, Sir," he said to the last speaker, "in saying that God is not a person; but then it is because, as Hegel says, he is personality itself--the universal personality which realizes itself in each human consciousness, as a separate thought of the one eternal mind. Our idea of the absolute is the absolute itself; apart from and out of the universe, therefore, there is no God." "I think we may grant you that," said Harrington, laughing. "Nor," continued the other, "is there any God apart from the universal consciousness of man. He--" "Ought you not to say it?" said Harrington. "It, then," said our student, "is the entire process of thought combining in itself the objective movement in nature with the logical subjective, and realizing itself in the spiritual totality of humanity. He (or it, if you will) is the eternal movement of the universal, ever raising itself to a subject, which first of all in the subject comes to objectivity and a real consistence, and accordingly absorbs the subject in its abstract individuality. God is, therefore, not a person, but personality itself." Nobody answered, for nobody understood. "Q. E. D.," said Harrington, with the utmost gravity. Thus encouraged, our student was going on to show how much more clear Hegel's views are than those of Schelling. "The only real existence," he said, "is the relation; subject and object, which seem contradictory, are really one,--not one in the sense of Schelling, as opposite poles of the same absolute existence, but one as the relation itself forms the very idea. Not but what in the threefold rhythm of universal existence there are affinities with the three potencies of Schelling; but----" "Take a glass of wine." said Harrington to his young acquaintance, "take a glass of wine, as the Antiquary said to Sir Arthur Wardour, when he was trying to cough up the barbarous names of his Pictish ancestors, 'and wash down that bead-roll of unbaptized jargon which would choke a dog.'" We laughed, for we could not help it. Our young student looked offended, and muttered something about the inaptitude of the English for a deep theosophy and philosophy. "It is all very well." said he, "Mr. Harrington; but it is not in this way that the profound questions which, under some aspects, have divided such minds as Fichte, Schelling, and Hegel; and under others, Gosehel, Hinrichs, Erdmann, Marheineke, Schaller, Gabler -----" Harrington burst out laughing. "They divide a good many philosophers of that last name in England also," said he. "Why, what have I said?" replied the other, looking surprised and vexed. "Nothing at all," said Harrington, still laughing. "Nothing that I know of; I am sure I may with truth affirm it. But I beg your pardon for laughing; only I could not help it, at finding you like so many other young philosophers born of German theology and philosophy, attempting to frighten me by a mere roll-call of formidable names. Why, my friend, it is because these things have, as you say, divided these great minds so hopelessly, that I am in difficulty; if the philosophers had agreed about them, it would have been another story. One would think, to hear them invoked by many a youth here, that these powerful minds had convinced one another; instead of that, they have simply confounded one another. It was the very spectacle of their interminable disputes and distractions in philosophy and theology,--ever darker and darker, deeper and deeper, as system after system chased each other away, like the clouds they resemble through a winter sky;--I say it was the very spectacle of their distractions which first made me a sceptic; and I think I am hardly likely to be reconvinced by the mere sound of their names, ushered in by vague professions of profound admiration of their profundity! The praise is often oddly justified by citing something or other, which, obscure enough in the original, is absolute darkness when translated into English; and must, like some versions I have seen of the classics, be examined in the original, in order to gain a glimpse of its meaning." The student acknowledged that there was certainly much vague admiration and pretension amongst young Englishmen in this matter; but thought that profounder views were to be gathered from these sources than was generally acknowledged. "Very well," replied Harrington; "I do not deny it, perhaps it is so; and whenever you choose to justify that opinion by expressing in intelligible English the special views of the special author you think thus worthy of attention, whether he be from Germany or Timbuctoo, I humbly venture to say that I will (so far from laughing) examine them with as much patience as yourself. But if you wish to cure me of laughing, I beseech you to refrain from all vague appeals to wholesale authority. "The most ludicrous circumstance, however," he continued, "connected with this German mania is, that in many cases our admiring countrymen are too late in changing their metaphysical fashions; so that they sometimes take up with rapture a man whom the Germans are just beginning to cast aside. Our servile imitators live on the crumbs that fall from the German table, or run off with the well-picked bone to their kennel, as if it were a treasure, and growl and show their teeth to any one that approaches them, in very superfluous terror of being deprived of it. It would be well if they were to imitate the importers of Parisian fashions, and let us know what is the philosophy or theology a la mode, that we may not run a chance of appearing perfect frights in the estimate even of the Germans themselves." Coffee was here brought in: and Harrington said, "Thank you, gentlemen, for your candor, though your unanimity does not seem very admirable. In one sentiment, indeed, you are pretty well agreed,--that the Bible is to be discarded; though you are infinitely at variance, as to the grounds on which you think so; Catholic friends deeming it too precious to be intrusted to every body's hands, and the rest of you, as a gift not worth receiving. But as to the systems you would substitute in its place, they are so portentously various that they are hardly likely to cure me of my scepticism; nor even my worthy relative here"--pointing to me--"of his old-fashioned orthodoxy. He will say, 'Much as we theologians differ as to the interpretation of Scripture, our differences are neither so great nor so formidable as those of these gentlemen. I had better remain where I am.'" Several of the guests stared at me as they would at the remains of a megatherium. "Is it possible," said one at last, "that you, Sir, can retain a belief in the divine inspiration of the Bible,--excluding incidental errors of transcription and so on?" "It is not only possible," said I, "but certain." "Do you mean," said the other, "that you can give satisfactory answers to the objections which can be brought against various parts of it?" "By no means," said I; "while I think that many may be wholly solved, and more, partially, I admit there are some which are altogether insoluble.' "Then why, in the name of wonder, do you retain your belief?" "Because I think that the evidence for retaining it is, on the whole, stronger than the evidence for relinquishing it; that is, that the objections to admitting the objections are stronger than the objections themselves." "But how do you manage in a controversy with an opponent as to those insoluble objections?" "I admit them." "Then you allow his position to be more tenable and reasonable than yours?" "No," said I, "I take care of that." "How so?" "I transfer the war, My good Sir: a practice which I would recommend to most Christians in these days. When I meet with an opponent of the stamp you refer to, who thinks insoluble objections alone are sufficient reasons for rejecting any thing. I say to him, 'My friend, this Christianity, if so clearly false, is not worth talking about: let us quit it. But as you admit, with me, that religious truth is of great moment, and as you think you have it, pray oblige me by your system.' To tell you the truth, I never found any difficulty in propounding plenty of insoluble objections; but if you think differently, you or any gentleman present can make experiment of the matter now." "Nay, my dear uncle," said Harrington, "you are invading my province. It is I only who can consistently challenge all comers; like the ancient Scythians, I have every thing to gain and nothing to lose." Whether it was out of respect for the host, or that each felt, after the recent disclosures, that he would not only have Harrington and myself, but every body else, down upon him, nobody accepted this challenge. At last one of them said he could not even yet comprehend how it was that I could remain an old-fashioned believer in these days of "progress." "It was infidelity itself," I replied, "that early robbed me of the advantages of being an infidel." Several expressed their surprise, and I told them that, after we had taken tea in the drawing-room (to which we were then summoned), I would, if they felt any curiosity upon the matter, and would allow a little scope to the garrulity of an old man, tell them HOW IT WAS THAT INFIDELITY PREVENTED MY BECOMING AN INFIDEL. AFTER tea I gave my story, as nearly as I can recollect, in the following way. Of course I cannot recall the precise words; but the order of the thoughts--how often have they been pondered!--I cannot be mistaken about. ____ It is now thirty years ago or more since I was passing through many of the mental conflicts in which I see so many of the young in the present day involved. I have no doubt that the majority of them will come out, probably after an eclipse more or less partial, very orthodox Christians,--so great are the revolutions of opinion which an experience of human life and the necessities of the human heart work upon us! As I look around me, I see few of my youthful contemporaries who have not survived their infidelity. Far be it from me--(I spoke in a tone which, I imagine, they hardly knew whether to take as compliment or irony)--to affirm that the infidels of this day are like those I knew in my youth. I have no hesitation in saying of us, that a perfectly natural recoil--partly intellectual and partly moral--from the supernatural history, the peculiar doctrines, but, above all, the severe morality of the New Testament, was at the bottom of our unbelief. I have long felt that the reception of that book on the part of any human being is not the least of its proofs that it is divine, for I am persuaded there never was a book naturally more repulsive either to the human head or heart. All the prejudices of man are necessarily arrayed against it. I felt these prejudice, I am now distinctly conscious; nor was I insensible to the palpable advantages of infidelity;--its accommodating morality; its Large margin for the passions and appetites; its doubts of any future world, or its certainty that, if there were one, it would prove a universal paradise (for doubts and certainties are equally within the compass of human wishes); the absolute abolition of hell and every thing like in. I say I saw clearly enough the advantages which infidelity promised, and I acknowledge I was not insensible to them. I think no young men are likely to be. I do not insinuate that similar advantages have any thing to do with those many peculiar revelations of religion which different oracles have in our day substituted for the New Testament. The arguments against Christianity, indeed, I do not find much altered; the substitutions for it, though distractingly various, are, I confess, in some respects different. Nay, we see that many of our "spiritualists" complain chiefly of the moral and spiritual deficiencies of Christianity; they are afraid, with Mr. Newman, of the conscience of man being DEPRESSED to the Bible standard! So that we must suppose that the aim of some, at least, of our infidel reformers, are prompted by a loftier ideal of "spiritual" purity than Christianity presents! It certainly was not so then. I felicitate some of you, gentlemen, on being so much holier and wiser, nor only than we were, but even than Christ and his Apostles. I have said I was not insensible to the advantages of infidelity; but nature had endowed me with prudence as well as passions; and I wanted evidence for what appeared to me its most gratuitous philosophy of the future,--for its too uncertain doubts of all futurity, and its too doubtful certainty of none but a happy one! I also wanted evidence of the falsehood of Christianity itself. As to the former, I shall not trouble you with my difficulties; there were indeed then, as now, an admirable variety of theories; but if I could have been convinced of the futility of the claims of Christianity, I believe I should have been easily satisfied as to a substitute; or rather, unable to decide between Chubb and Bolingbroke, Voltaire and Rousseau, I should most likely have tossed up for my religion. It was the distractions with regard to the evidences of Christianity that ruined me; and at last condemned me to be a Christian. I was first troubled, like so many in our day, about the miracles. I could hardly bring my mind to believe them. One day, talking with a jovial fellow whom I casually met (not of very strong mind indeed, but who made up for it by very strong passions) over the improbability of such occurrences, he exclaimed, as he mixed his third glass of brandy and water, "I only wonder how any one can be such a fool as to believe in any stuff of that sort? Do you think that, if the miracles had been really wrought, there could have been any doubters of Christianity?" He tossed off the brandy and water with a triumphant air; and I quite forgot his argument in compassion for his bestiality. I expostulated with him. "You may spare your breath, Mr. Solomon," said he. "May this be my poison (as it will be my poison)," mixing a fourth glass, "if I need any sermons on the subject. Hark ye,--I am perfectly convinced that the habit I am chained to will be the destruction of health, of reputation, of my slender means,--will reduce to beggary and starvation my wife and children,--and yet," drinking again, "I know I shall never leave it off." "Good heavens!" said I. "Why, you seem as plainly convinced of the infatuation of your conduct as if miracle had been wrought to convince you of it. "I am." he said, unthinkingly; "ten thousand miracles could not make it plainer; so you may 'spare your breath to cool your porridge,' and preach to one who is not already in the condemned cell." I was exceedingly shocked; but I thought within myself,--It appears, then, that man may act against convictions, as strong as any that a miracle could produce. It is clear there are no LIMITS to the perversity with which a depraved will and passions can overrule evidence, even where it is admitted by the reason to be invincible. It does not follow, then, that a miracle (which cannot present conclusions more clear) must triumph over them. If the passions can defy the understanding, where it coolly acknowledges they cannot pervert the evidence, how much more easily may they cajole it to suggest doubts of the evidence itself! And what more easy than in relation to miracles? Such a phenomenon might from novelty produce a transient impression; but that would pass away, just as the vivid feelings sometimes excited by a sudden escape from death pass away; the half-roused debauchee resumes his old career, just as if he had never looked over the brink of eternity and shuddered with horror as he gazed. He who had seen a miracle might very soon, and probably would, if he did not like the doctrine it was to confirm, persuade himself that it was an illusion of his senses, for they have deceived him; unless, indeed, he saw a new miracle every day, and then he would be certain to get used to it. How much more easily could the Jews do this, who both hated the doctrine of Him who taught, and, not thinking miracles impossible, could conveniently refer them to Beelzebub! I felt, therefore, that the brandy and water logic had perfectly convinced me that this was far too precarious ground on which to conclude that the miracles of the New Testament had been wrought. I was further confirmed in my convictions of the illogical nature of all a priori views on the subject, by the whimsical differences of opinion among my infidel friends. One told me that it was plain that miracles were "incredible," and "impossible," per se; but he was immediately contradicted by a second, who said that he really could not see any thing incredible or impossible about them; that all that was wanting to make them credible was sufficient evidence, which perhaps had in no case been given. A third said, that it was of little consequence; that no miracle could prove a moral truth; and; taking a view just the opposite to that of my first acquaintance, swore that, if he saw a score of miracles, he should not be a bit the more inclined to believe in the authority of a religion authenticated by them. Here was a fine beginning for an ingenuous neophyte, who was eager to be fully initiated in infidel theology! It set me to examine the miracles themselves, and the evidence for them. "They were the simple result of fraud practising upon simplicity," said one of the genuine descendants of Bolingbroke and Tindal. I pondered over it a good deal. At last I said one day to another infidel acquaintance, "You ask me to believe that the miraculous events of the New Testament were contrivances of fraud; which, though ventured upon in the very eyes of those who were interested in detecting them, who must have been prejudiced against them, nay, the majority of whom (as the events show) were determined, whether they detected them or not, not to believe those who wrought them, were yet successfully practised, not only on the deluded disciples of the impostors, but on their unbelieving persecutors, who admitted them to be miracles, only of Beelzebub's performing. I really know not how to believe it. As I look at the general history of religion, I see that this open-day appeal to miracles--especially such as raising the dead--among prejudiced spectators interested in unmasking them is, if unsupported by truth, just the thing under which a religious enterprise inevitably fails." I reminded him that the French prophets in England got on pretty well till their unlucky attempt to raise the dead, when the bubble burst instantly; that for this reason the more astute impostors have refrained from any pretensions of the kind, from Mahomet downwards; (How discreetly cautious, again, have the Mormonites been on this point!) that the miracles they professed to have wrought were conveniently wrought in secret, on the safe theatre of their mental consciousness; or that they were reserved for times when their disciples were predetermined to believe them, because they were cordial believers already in the religion which appealed to them! I said nothing of the unlikelihood of the instruments--Galilean Jews--whom the theory invests with such superhuman powers of deception; or of the prodigious intellect and lofty ambition with which it also so liberally endows these obscure vagabonds, who not only conceived, in spite of their narrow-hearted Jewish bigotry, such a system as Christianity, but proclaimed their audacious resolve of establishing it on the ruins of every other religion,--Jewish or Heathen. I said nothing of the still stranger moral attributes with which it invests them, (in spite of their being such odious tricksters, in spite of all their grovelling notions and exclusive prejudices,) as the teachers of a singularly elevated and catholic morality; what is still stranger as suffering for it,--strangest of all, as apparently practising it. I said nothing of what is still more wonderful, their acting this inconsistent part from motives we cannot assign or even imagine; their encountering obloquy, persecution, death, in the prosecution of their object, whatever it was. I said nothing of the innumerable and one would think inimitable, traits of nature and sincerity in the narrative of those who record these miracles, and which, if simulated by such liars, would be almost a miracle itself; a narrative, in which majestic indifference to human criticism is everywhere exhibited; in which are no apologies for the extraordinary stories told, no attempt to conciliate prejudice, no embellishment, no invectives (as Pascal says) against the persecutors of Christ himself;--they are simple witnesses, and nothing more, and are seemingly indifferent whether men despise them or not. I repeat, I said nothing of all these paradoxes; I insisted that the mere fact of the successful machination of false miracles, of such a nature, at so many points, in open day, in defiance of every motive and prejudice which must have prompted the world to unmask the cheat,--of a conspiracy successfully prosecuted, not by one, but by many conspirators, whose fortitude, obstinacy, and circumspection, both when acting together and acting alone, never allowed them to betray themselves,--was, per se, incredible; "and yet," said I to my friend, "you ask me to believe it?" "I ask you to believe it?" cried he, in surprise which equalled my own. "I am not fool enough ask you to believe any thing of the kind: and they are fools who do. The miracles fraudulent machinations! no, no, it was, as you say, evidently impossible. And where shall we look for marks of simplicity and truthfulness, if not in the records which contain them. The fact is." said he (I should mention that it was just about the time that the system of "naturalism" was culminating under the auspices of Paulus of Heidelberg, from whom, at second hand, my infidel friend borrowed as much as he wanted),--"the fact is, that the compilers of the New Testament were pious, simple-minded, excellent enthusiasts, who sincerely, but not the less falsely, mistook natural phenomena for supernatural miracles. What more easy than to suppose people dead when they were not, and who were merely recovered from a swoon or trance? than to imagine the blind, deaf, or dumb to be miraculously healed, when in fact they were cured by medical skill? than to fancy the blaze of a flambeau to be a star, and to shape thunder into articulate speech, and so on? Christ was no miracle-worker, but he was a capital doctor." I pondered over this "natural" explanation for a long time. At last I ventured to express to a third infidel friend my dissatisfaction with it. "Not only," said I, "is such a perpetual and felicitous genius for gross blundering, such absolute craziness of credulity, in strange contrast with the intellectual and moral elevation which the New Testament writers everywhere evince, and especially in the conception of that Ideal of Excellence which even those who reject all that is supernatural in Christianity acknowledge to be so sublime a masterpiece,--in whose discourses the most admirable ethics are illustrated, and in whose life they are still more divinely dramatized,--not only is such ludicrous madness of fanaticism at variance with the tone of sobriety and simplicity everywhere traceable; but,--what is more,--when I reflect on the number and grossness of these supposed illusions, I find it hard to imagine how to image how even individual could have been honestly stupid enough to be beguiled by them, and utterly impossible to suppose that a number of men should on many occasions have been simultaneously thus befooled! But, what is much more, how can those who must often have managed the phenomena which were thus misinterpreted into miracles,--how, especially, can the great Physician himself, who knew that he was only playing the doctor, be supposed honestly to have allowed the simple-minded followers to persist in so strange an error? Either he, or they, or both, must, one would think, have been guilty of the grossest frauds. But the mere number and simultaneity of such strange illusions, under such a variety of circumstances, render it impossible to receive this hypothesis. I cannot see, I said, that it is so very easy for a number of men to have been continually mistaking 'flambeaux' for 'stars,' 'thunder' for 'human speech,' and 'Roman soldiers' for 'angels.'" My friend laughed outright. "I should think it is not easy, indeed!" he exclaimed, "especially that last. For my part, I see clearly, on this theory, that either the Apostles or their commentators were the most crazy, addle-headed wretches in the world. Either Paulus of Tarsus or Paulus of Heidelberg was certainly cracked: I believe the last. No, my friend; depend upon it that the Gospels consist of a number of fictions,--many of them very beautiful,--invented, I am inclined to believe, for a very pious purpose, by highly imaginative minds." This sat me thinking again. And, in time, my doubts, as usual, assumed a determinate shape, and I hastened to another oracle of infidelity in hopes of a solution. If the New Testament be supposed a series of fictions, I argued,--the work of highly imaginative minds for a pious purposes--there is perhaps a slight moral anomaly in the case (but I do not insist upon it): I mean that of supposing pious men writing fictions which they evidently wish to impose on the world as simple history, and which they must have known would, if received at all, be actually regarded as such; as, in fact, they have been. I do not quite understand how pious men should thus endeavor to cheat men into virtue, nor inculcate sanctity and truth through the medium of deliberate fraud and falsehood. But let that pass; perhaps one could forgive it. Other anomalies, far more inexplicable, strike me. That Galilean Jews (such as the history of the time represents them), with all their national and inveterate prejudices,--wedded not more to the law of Moses than to their own corruptions of it, bigoted and exclusive beyond all the nations that ever existed, eaten up with the most beggarly superstitions,--should rise to the moral grandeur, the nobility of sentiment, the catholicity of spirit, which characterize the Gospel, and, above all, to such an ideal as Jesus Christ,--this is a moral anomaly, which is to me incomprehensible: the improbability of Christianity having its natural origin in such a source is properly measured by the hatred of the Jews against it, both then and through all time. I said I could as little understand the intellectual anomalies of such a theory. Could men, among the most ignorant of a nation sunk in that gross and puerile superstition of which the New Testament itself presents a true picture, and which is reflected in the Jewish literature of that age, and ever since,--a nation whose master minds then and ever since (think of that!) have given us only such stuff as fills the Talmud, --could such men, I said, have created such fictions as those of the New Testament,--reached such elevated sentiments, or conveyed them in perfectly original forms, embodied truth so sublime in a style so simple? Throughout those writings is a peculiar tone which belongs to no other compositions of man. While the individuality of the writers not lost, there are still peculiarities which pervade the whole, and have, as I think, justly been called a Scripture style. One of their most striking characteristics, by the way, is a severely simple taste; a uniform freedom from the vulgarities of conception, the exaggerated sentiment, the mawkish nonsense and twaddle, which disfigure such an infinitude of volumes of religious biography and fiction which have been written since. Could such men attain this uniform elevation? Could such men have invented those extraordinary fictions,--the miracles and the parables? Could they, in spite of their gross ignorance, have so interwoven the fictitious and the historical as to make the fiction let into the history seem a natural part of it? Could they, above all, have conceived the daring, but glorious, project of embodying and dramatizing the ideal of the system they inculcated in the person of Christ? And yet they have succeeded, though choosing to attempt the wonderful task in a life full of unearthly incidents, which they have somehow wrought into an exquisite harmony! But even if one such man in such an age and nation could have been found equal to all this, could we, I argued, believe that several (with undeniable individual varieties of manner) were capable of working into the picture similarly unique, but different materials, with similar success, and of reproducing the same portrait, in varying posture and attitude, of the great Moral Idea? Could we believe that, in achieving this task, not one, but several, were intellectual magicians enough to solve that great problem of producing compositions in a form independent of language,--of laying on colors which do not fade by time; so that while Homer, Shakspeare, Milton, suffer grievous wrong the moment their thoughts are transferred into another tongue, these men should have written so that their wonderful narrative naturally adapts itself to every dialect under heaven? These intellectual anomalies, I confessed,--if these had been all,-- staggered me. As Lord Bacon said that he would sooner believe "all the fables of the Talmud, than that this universal frame was without a mind," so I could sooner believe all those fables, than that minds that can only produce Talmuds should have conceived such fictions as the Gospel. I could as soon believe that some dull chronicler of the Middle Ages composed Shakspeare's plays, or a ploughman had written Paradise Lost; only that, to parallel the present case, we ought to believe that four ploughmen wrote four Paradise Losts! Nay, I said, I would as soon believe that most laughable theory of learned folly, that the monks of the Middle Ages compiled all the classics! Nor could it help me to say that it was Christians, not Jews, who compiled the New Testament; for they must have been Jews before they were Christians: and the twofold moral and intellectual problem comes back upon our hands,--to imagine how the Jewish mind could have given birth to the ideas of Christianity, or have embodied them in such a surpassing form. And as to the intellectual part of the difficulty,--unhappily abundant proof exists in Christian literature that the early Christians could as little have manufactured such fictions as the Jews themselves! The New Testament is not more different from the writings of Jews, or superior to them, than it is different from the writings of the Fathers, and superior to them. It stands alone, like the Peak of Teneriffe. The Alps amidst the flats of Holland would not present a greater contrast than the New Testament and the Fathers. And the further we come down, the less capable morally, and nearly as incapable intellectually, do the rapidly degenerating Christians appear, of producing such a fiction as the New Testament; so that, if it be asked whether it was not possible that some Christians of after times might have forged these books, one must say with Paley, that they could not. And by the by, gentlemen, said I, (interrupting my narrative, and addressing the present company,) I may remind some of you who are great admirers of Professor Newman, that he admits (as indeed all must, who have had an opportunity of comparing them) the infinite inferiority of the Fathers, though he does not attempt to account, as surely he ought, for so singular a circumstance. He says in his Phases: "On the whole, this reading [of the Apostolical Fathers] greatly exalted my sense of the unapproachable greatness of the New Testament. The moral chasm between it and the very earliest Christian writers seemed to me so vast, as only to be accounted for by the doctrine ..... that the New Testament was dictated by the immediate action of the Holy Spirit." (Phases, p. 25.) But to resume the statement of my early difficulties. I felt that the anomalies involved in the theory of the fictitious origin of the New Testament were almost endless; I said that, however hard to believe that any men, much less such men as Jews of that age, were capable of such achievements as I had already specified, I must believe much more still; for the men, with all their wisdom, were fools enough to make their enterprise infinitely more hazardous,--by intrusting the execution of it to a league of many minds, thus multiplying indefinitely their chances of contradiction; by adopting every kind and style of composition, full of reciprocal allusions; and, above all, by dovetailing their fabrications into true history, thus encountering a perpetual danger of collision between the two; all as if to accumulate upon their task every difficulty which ingenuity could devise! Could I believe that such men as those to whom history restricts the problem had been able, while thus giving every advantage to the detection of imposture, to invent a narrative so infinitely varied in form and style, composed by so many different hands, traversing, in such diversified ways, contemporary characters and events, involving names of places, dates, and numberless specialities of circumstance, and yet maintain a general harmony of so peculiar a kind, such a callida junctura of these most heterogeneous materials, as to have imposed on the bulk of readers in all ages an impression of their artless truth and innocence, and that they were writing facts, and not fictions? Above all, could they be capable of fabricating those deeply-latent coincidences, which, if fraud employed them, overreached fraud itself; lying so deep as to be undiscovered for nearly eighteen centuries, and only recently attracting the attention of the world in consequence of the objections of infidels themselves? We know familiarly enough, that to sustain any verisimilitude in a fictitious history (even though only one man has the manufacture of it) is almost impossible, because the relations of fact that must be anticipated and provided against are so infinitely various, that the writer is certain to betray himself. The constant detection of very limited fabrications of a similar nature, when evidence is sifted in a court of justice, shows us the impossibility of weaving a plausible texture of this kind. Many things are sure to have been forgotten which ought to have been remembered. If this be the case, even where one mind has the fabrication of the whole, how much more would it be the case if many minds were engaged in the conspiracy? Should we not expect, at the very least, the hesitating, suspicious, self-betraying tone usual in all such cases? Could we expect that general air of truth which so undeniably prevails throughout the New Testament,--the inimitable tone of nature, earnestness, and frank sincerity, which, in the case of such extravagant forgeries, would alone be marvellous traits? But, at all events, could we expect those minute coincidences, which lay too deep for the eye of all ordinary readers, and would never have been discovered had not infidelity provoked Paley and others to excavate those subterranean galleries in which they are found? And here again I interrupted my narrative to remark, that Professor Newman acknowledges the force of these coincidences, and, as usual, gives no account of them. He says of the Horae Paulinae, in his "Phases": "This book greatly enlarged my mind as to the resources of historical criticism. Previously my sole idea of criticism was that of the discreet discernment of style; but I now began to understand what powerful argument rose out of combinations; and the very complete establishment which this work gives to the narrative concerning Paul in the latter half of the Acts appeared to me to reflect critical honor on the whole New Testament." (Phases, p. 23.) But once more to resume my statement. Upon mentioning these and such like considerations to my infidel friend, who pleaded, that the New Testament was fiction, he replied. "As to the harmony in these fictions, --if they be such,--you acknowledge that it is not absolute: that are discrepancies." Yes, I said, there are discrepancies, I admit; and I was about to mention that as another difficulty in the way of my reception of his theory: I refer to the nature and the limits of those discrepancies. If there had been an absolute harmony, even to the mildest point, I am persuaded that, on the principle of evidence in all such cases, many would have charged collusion on the writers, and have felt that it was a corroboration of the theory of the fictitious origin of these compositions. But as the case stands, the discrepancies, if the compositions be fictitious indeed, are only a proof that these men attained a still more wonderful skill in aping verisimilitude than if there had been no discrepancies at all. They have left in the historic portions of their narrative an air of general harmony, with an exquisite congruity in points which lie deep below the surface,--a congruity which they must be supposed to have known would astonish the world when once discovered; and have at the same time left certain discrepancies on the surface (which criticism would be sure to point out), as if for the very purpose of affording guaranties and vouchers against the suspicion of collusion. The discords increase the harmony. Once more, I asked, could I believe Jews, Jews in the reign of Tiberius or Nero, equal to all these wonders? But all this, even all this, I said, was as nothing compared with another difficulty involved in this theory. How came these fictions, containing such monstrous romance, if romance at all, and equally monstrous doctrines, to be believed; to be believed by multitudes of Jews and Gentiles, both opposed and equally opposed to them by previous inveterate superstition and prejudice? How came so many men of such different races and nations of mankind to hasten to unclothe themselves of all their previous beliefs in order to adopt these fantastical fables? How came they to persist in regarding them as authoritative truth? How came so many in so many different countries to do this at once? Nay, I added with a laugh, I think there are distinct traces, as far as we have any evidence, that these very peculiar fictions must have been believed by many before they were even compiled and published. My infidel friend mused, and at last said, "I agree with you that these compositions could not have been fictions in the ordinary sense, that is, deliberately composed by a conspiracy of highly imaginative minds. That last argument alone, of their success, is conclusive against that; but may they not have been legends which gradually assumed this form out of floating traditions and previous popular and national prepossessions?" In short, he faintly sketched a notion somewhat similar to that mythic theory, since so elaborately wrought out by Strauss. I answered somewhat as follows:--If the first place, on this hypothesis, all the intellectual and moral anomalies of the last theory reappear. That such legends should have been the product of the Jewish mind (whether designedly or undesignedly, consciously or unconsciously, makes no difference), is one of the principal difficulties. If it had been objected to Pere Hardouin, that Virgil's "Aeneid" could nor have been composed by one of the monks of the Middle Ages. I suppose that it would have been no relief from the difficulties of his hypothesis to say that it was a gradual, unconsciously formed deposit of the monkish mind! But besides all this, I said, the theory was loaded with other absurdities specially its own: for we must then believe all the indications of historic plausibility to which I had adverted in speaking of the previous theory to be the work of accident; a supposition, if possible, still more inconceivable than that some superhuman genius for fiction had been employed on their elaboration. Things moulder into rubbish, but they do not moulder into fabrics. And then (I continued) the greatest difficulty, as before, reappears, how came these queer legends, the product whether of design or accident, to be believed? Jews and Gentiles were and must have been thoroughly opposed to them. To this he replied, "I suppose the belief, as you also do, anterior to the books, which express that belief, but did not cause it. I suppose the Christian system already existing as a floating vapor and merely condensed into the written form. It was a gradual formation, like the Greek and Indian mythologies." I thought on this for some time, and then said something like this:-- Worse and worse: for I fear that the age of Augustus was no age in which the world was likely to frame a mythology at all:--if it had been such an age, the problem does not allow sufficient time for it;--if there had been sufficient time, it would not have been such a mythology; --and if there had been any formed, it would not have been rapidly embraced, any more than other mythologies, by men of different races, but would have been confined to that which gave it birth. As to the first point, you ask me to believe that something like the mythology of the Hindoos or Egyptians could spring up and diffuse itself in such an age of civilization and philosophy, books and history; whereas all experience shows us that only a time of barbarism, before authentic history has commenced, is proper to the birth of such monstrosities; that this congelation of tradition and legend takes place only during the long frosts and the deep night of ages, and is impossible in the bright sun of history;--in whose very beams, nevertheless, these prodigious icicles are supposed to have been formed! As to the second point, you ask me to believe that the thing should be done almost instantly; for in A.D. 1, we find, by all remains of antiquity, that both Jews and Gentiles were reposing in the shadow of their ancient superstitions; and in A. D. 60. multitudes among different races had become the bigoted adherents of this novel mythology! As to the third point, you ask me to believe that such a mythology as Christianity could have sprung up when those amongst whom it is supposed to have originated, and those amongst whom it is supposed to have been propagated, must have equally loathed it. National prepossessions of the Jews. Why, the kind of Messiah on which the national heart was set, the inveteracy with which they persecuted to the death the one that offered himself, and the hatred with which for eighteen hundred years they have recoiled from him, sufficiently show how preposterous this notion is! As a nation, they were, ever have been, and are now, more opposed to Christianity than any other nation on earth. Prepossessions of the Gentiles! There was not a Messiah that a Jew could frame a notion of, but would have been an object of intense loathing and detestation to them all! Yet you ask me to believe that a mythology originated in the prejudices of a nation the vast bulk of whom from its commencement have most resolutely rejected it, and was rapidly propagated among other nations and races, who must have been prejudiced against it; who even in its favor those venerable superstitions which were consecrated by the most powerful associations of antiquity! As to the fourth point, you ask me to believe that, at a juncture when all the world was divided between deep-rooted superstition and incredulous scepticism,--divided, as regards the into Pharisees and Sadducees, and, as regards the Gentiles, into their Pharisees and Sadducees, that is, into the vulgar who believed, or at least practised, all popular religions, and the philosophers who laughed at them all, and whose combined hostility was directed against the supposed new mythology,--it nevertheless found favor with multitudes in almost all lands! You ask me to believe that a mythology was rapidly received by thousands of different races and nations, when all history proclaims, that it is with the utmost difficulty that any such system ever passes the limits of the race which has originated it; and that you can hardly get another race even to look at it as a matter of philosophic curiosity! You ask me to believe that this system was received by multitudes among many different races, both of Asia and Europe, without force, when a similar phenomenon has never been witnessed in relation to any mythology whatever! Thus, after asking me to burden myself with a thousand perplexities to account for the origin of these fables, you afterwards burden me with a thousand more, to account for their success! Lastly, you ask me to believe, not only that men of different races and countries became bigotedly attached to legends which none were likely to originate, which all were likely to hate, and, most of all, those who are supposed to have originated them; but that they received them as historic facts, when the known recency of their origin must have shown the world that they were the legendary birth of yesterday; and that they acted thus, though those who propagated these legends had no military power no civil authority, no philosophy, no science, no one instrument of human success to aid them, while the opposing prejudices which everywhere encountered them had! I really know not how to believe all this. "There are certainly many difficulties in the matter" candidly replied my infidel friend. But, as if wishing to effect a diversion,--"Have you ever read Gibbon's celebrated chapter?" Why, yes, I told him, two or three years before; but he does not say a syllable in solution of my chief difficulties; he does not tell me any thing as to the origin of the ideas of Christianity, nor who could have written the wonderful books in which they are embodied; besides, said I, in my simplicity, he yields the point, by allowing miracles to be the most potent cause of the success of Christianity. "Ah" he replied, "but every one can see that he is there speaking ironically." Why, then, said I, laughing, I fear he is telling us how the success of Christianity cannot be accounted for, rather than how it can. "O, but he gives you the secondary causes; which it is easy to see he considers the principal; and also sufficient." I will read him again, I said, and with deep attention. Some time after, in meeting with the same friend, I began upon Gibbon's secondary causes. "They have given you satisfaction, I hope." Any thing but that, I replied; they do not, as I said before, touch my principal difficulties: and even as to the success of the system when once elaborated,--his reasons are either a mere restatement of the difficulty to be solved, or aggravate it indefinitely. "You are hard to please," he replied. I said I was, except by solid arguments. But does Gibbon offer them? I asked. He tells us, for example, that the virtues, energy, and zeal of the early Church was a main instrument of the success of Christianity; whereas it is the very origination of the early Church, with all these efficacious endowments, that we want to account for: it is as though he had told me that we might account for the success of Christianity from the fact that it had succeed to such an extent as to render its further success very probable! As for the rest of his secondary causes, they are difficulties in its way rather than auxiliaries. He asks me to believe that the intolerance of Christianity--by which it refused all alliance with other religions, and insisted in reigning alone or not at all, by which it spat contempt on the whole rabble of the Pantheon--was likely to facilitate its reception among nations, whose pride and whose pleasure alike it was to encourage civilities and compliments between their Gods, each of whom was on gracious visiting terms with its neighbors! He asks me, in effect, to believe that the austerity of the Christians tended to give them favor in the eves of an accommodating and jovial Heathenism; that the severity of manners by which they reproved it, and which to their contemporaries must have appeared (as we know from the Apologists it did) much as Puritan grimace to the court of Charles II., was somehow attractive! That the scruples with which they recoiled from all usages and customs which could be associated with the elegant pomp of Pagan worship, and the suspicion with which, as having been linked with idolatry, they looked on every emanation of that spirit of beauty which reigned over the exterior life of Paganism, would operate as a charm in their favor! That their studied absence from all scenes social hilarity, their grave looks on festal days, their garlanded heads, their simple attire, their utter estrangement from the Graces, which in truth were the legitimate Gods in Greece, and the true mothers of whole family of Olympus, would be likely to conciliate towards the Gospel the favorable dispositions classic antiquity! I have not so read history, nor learnt human nature. Again, he asks me to believe that the immortality which Christianity promised Heathen--such an immortality --was another of things which tended to give it success;--on the one hand, a menace of retribution, not for flagrant crimes only, which Heathenism itself punished, nor for the lax manners which the easy spirit of Paganism had made venial but for spiritual vices, of which it took account, some of which it had even consecrated virtues; and, on the other hand, an other of a which promised nothing but delights of a spiritual order; a paradise which, whatever material or imaginative adjuncts it might have, certainly disclosed none; which presented no one thing to gratify the prurient curiosity of man's fancy, or the eager passions of his sensual nature; which must, in fact, have been about as inviting to the soul of a Heathen as the promise of an eternal Lent to an epicure! Surely these were resistless seductions. Yet it is to such things as auxiliaries that Gibbon refers me for the success of Christianity. Verily it is not without reason that he is called a master of irony! My friend fairly acknowledged the difficulties of the subject, but said he could not believe in the truth of Christianity. I repaired to another infidel acquaintance. "It is a perplexing, a very perplexing controversy, no doubts," was his reply; "but every thing tends to show that Christianity resembles in its principal features all those other religions which you admit to be false. All have their prodigies and miracles,--their revelations and Inspirations,--their fragments of truth and their masses of nonsense. They are all to be rejected together." I again puzzled for a long time over this aspect of the case. At last I said to him,--This seems a curious way of disposing of the evidence for Christianity; for if there be any true religion, it is likely, as in all other cases, that the counterfeits will have some features in common with it. It would follow, also, that there can be no true philosophy; since, while there are scores of philosophies, only one can be true. But I have another difficulty: on comparing Christianity with other systems, I find vital differences, both as regards theory and fact. As regards theory, I find an insuperable difficulty, not merely in imagining how Jews, Greeks, or Romans, any or all of them, should have been the originators of Christianity, but how human nature should have been fool enough to originate it at all! For I am asked to believe that man, such as I know him through all history, such as he appears in so many forms of religion which have been his undoubted and most worthy fabrication, did, whether fraudulently or not, whether designedly or unconsciously, frame a religion which is in striking contrast with all his ordinary handiwork of this sort! This religion enjoins the austerest morality; human religions generally enjoin a very lax one:--this demands the most refined purity, even of the thoughts and desires; other religions usually attach to external and ceremonial observances greater weight than to morality itself;--this is singularly simple in its rites; they for the most part consist of little else;--this exhibits a singular silence and abstinence in relation to the future and invisible; they amply indulge the imagination and fancy, and are full of delineations calculated to gratify man's most natural curiosity;--this takes under its special patronage those virtues which man is least likely to love or cultivate, and which men in general regard as pusillanimous infirmities, if not vices; they patronize the must energetic passions,--the passions which made the demigods and heroes of antiquity. I am not saying which is the belief in these respects; I am only saying that human nature appears more true to itself in the last. And so notorious is all this, that the corruptions of Christianity, as years rolled on, have ever been to assimilate it to the other religions of the earth; to abate its spirituality; to relax its austere code of morals; to commute its proper claims for external observances; to encumber its ritual with an infinity of ceremonies; and, above all, to uncover the future and invisible, on which it left a veil, and add a purgatory into the bargain! Thus, whether contrasted with other religions or with its corrupted self, Christianity does not seem a religion which human nature would be pleased to invent. Again, is it like the other religious products of human nature, in daring to aspire to universal dominion, and that too founded on moral power alone? Never, till Christianity appeared, had such an imagination ever entered the mind of man! Other religions were national affairs; their gods never dreamed of such an enterprise as that of subduing all nations. They were naturally contented with the country that gave them birth, and the homage of the race that worshipped them. They were, when not themselves assailed, very tolerant, and did the civil thing by all other gods of all other nations, and were even content to expire with great propriety (they usually did so) with the political extinction of the race of their votaries! Christianity alone adopts a different tone,--"Go ye, and preach the Gospel to all nations."--and declares, not only that it will reign, but that none other shall. It will not endure a rival; it will not consent to have a statue with the mob of the Pantheon. Whether this ambition--call it pride and folly, if you will, as you well may if the thing be merely human--was likely to suggest itself to man, considering the local and national character of other religions, and the apparent hopelessness of any such enterprise, I have my doubts. Arrogance it may be; but it is not such arrogance as is very natural to man. These, I said, were amongst a few of the things in which I must say I thought the theory of Christianity very unlike that of any religion human nature was likely to invent. If, I continued, I examine the past history and present position of Christianity, with an impartial eye, I see that it presents in several most important respects a contrast with other religions in point office. I shall content myself with enumerating a few. Look, then, at the perpetual spirit of aggression which characterizes this religion; its undeniable power (in whatever it consists, and from whatever it springs) to prompt those who hold it to render it victorious,--a spirit which has more or less characterized its whole history: which still lives, even in its most corrupt forms, and which has not been least active in our own time. I do not see any thing like it in other religions. Till I see Mollahs from Ispahan, Brahmins from Benares, Bonzes from China, preaching their systems of religion in London, Paris, and Berlin, supported year after year by an enormous expenditure on the part of their zealous compatriots, and the nations who support them taking the liveliest interest in their success or failure, till I see this (call it fanatical if you will, the money thus expended wasted, the men who give it fools), I shall not be able to pronounce Christianity simply on a par with other religions. Till the sacred books of other religions can boast of at least a hundredth part of the same efforts to translate and diffuse them as have been concentrated on the Bible; till we find them in at least half as many languages; till they can render those who possess them at least a tenth part as willing to make costly efforts to insure to them a circulation coextensive with the family of man; till they occupy an equal space in the literature of the world, and are equally bound up with the philosophy, history, poetry, of the community of civilized nations; till they have given an equal number of human communities a written language, and may thus boast of having imparted to large sections of the human family the germ of all art, science, and civilization; till they can cite an equal amount of testimonies to their beauty and sublimity from those who reject their divine original,--I shall scarcely think Christianity can be put simply on a par with other religions. Till it can be said that the sacred books of other religions are equally unique in relation to all the literature in which they are imbedded; similar neither to what precedes nor what comes after them, --their enemies themselves being judges; till they can be shown to be as superior to all that is found in contemporaneous authors as the New Testament is to the writings of Christian Fathers or the Jewish Rabbis,--I cannot say that Christianity is just like any other religion. Till we can find a religion that has stood as many different assaults from infidelity in the midst of it,--educated infidelity, infidelity aided by learning, genius, philosophy, freely employing all the power of argument and all the power of ridicule to disabuse its votaries; till we can find a religion which can point to an equal array of educated men, philosophic in spirit, in learning, and genius, deeply skilled in the investigation of evidence, deliberately declaring that its claims are well sustained.--we cannot say that Christianity is just like any other religion. Till it can be shown that another religion to an equal extent, has propagated itself without force amongst totally different races, and in the most distant countries, and has survived equal revolutions of thought and opinion, manners and laws, amongst those who have embraced it, it cannot be said that Christianity is simply like any other religion. Till it can be shown that the sacred books of other religions have contained predictions as definite and as unlikely to be fulfilled as the success of early Christianity against all the opposition of prejudice and persecution,--its voluntary reception amongst different races, contrary to all the analogies of religious history,--and the continued preservation of the Jews among all nations without forming a part of any,--I cannot think that Christianity is precisely in the condition of any other religion. Such, gentlemen, were some few of the differences in fact which seemed to me, not less than its theory, to discriminate Christianity from other religions. Had I in those days of my youth, been favored with the views of modern "spiritualism," I should have added, that till it is shown that some other religion has possessed an equal power of moulding those characters whom Mr. Newman points out as the best examples of "spiritual" religion, and can point to oracles equally pervaded by that "sentiment" which he declares is wanting in Greek philosophers, English Deists, and German Pantheists, but which, he admits, pervades the Bible; till I see the devout men whom he extols produced by other religions, or rather. I ought to say, produced without them (where Christianity however is unknown) by the unaided "spiritual faculty,"--I cannot but think that the position of Christianity is somewhat discriminated both from other religions and from "Naturalism." Such, I said, to conclude, was an imperfect outline of some of my early conflicts, and such the cruel mode in which my unbelieving friends laughed at each other's hypotheses, and left me destitute of any. Finding that they conclusively confuted one another, and perceiving at last that the idea of the superhuman origin of Christianity did, and, as Bishop Butler says, alone can resolve all the difficulties of the subject, I was compelled to forego all the advantages of infidelity, and condescended to "depress" my conscience to the "Biblical standard"! Would to Heaven that it had never been depressed below it! I am bound to say my auditors listened with courtesy. The conversation was now carried on in little knots: I, who was glad of a rest, was occupied in listening to a conversation between Harrington and his Italian friend, who was urging him to take refuge from such a Babel of discords as his company had uttered, in the only secure asylum. Harrington told him, with the utmost gravity, that one great objection to the Church of Rome was the unseemly liberty she allowed to the right of private judgment; that he found in her communion distractions the most perplexing, especially as between English and foreign Romanists! ____ After the party had broken up, and we were left alone, Mr. Fellows, turning to me, said, "You lay great stress on the origination of such a character as Christ. But can we make its reality a literary problem? May it not have been imaginary? As Mr. Newman says, Human nature is often portrayed in superhuman dignity; Why not in superhuman goodness? "That the origination;" said I, "of such a Moral Ideal, in so peculiar a form, by such men as Galilean Jews, is unaccountable enough, I fancy all will admit; but it is, you observe, only one of the numberless points which are unaccountable; neither do I make this one feature, or any of the other singular characteristics of the New Testament, merely a literary problem. The whole, you see, is a vast literary, moral, intellectual, spiritual, and historical problem. But it is too much the way with you objectors to say, 'This may, perhaps, be got over,' and 'That may be got over'; the question is, as Bishop Butler says, whether all can be got over; for if all the arguments for it be not false, Christianity is true. "You charge us with the very conduct," retorted Fellowes, "which Mr. Newman objects to Christians. They, says he, affirm that this objection is of little weight, and that is of little weight; whereas altogether they amount to considerable weight." "I admit it," said I; "and those are very unfair who deny it. But still, since there are these things of weight on both sides, the argument returns, on which side does the balance on the sum-total of evidence lie?" "But," said Fellowes, "how few are competent to compute that!" "You are really pleasant, Mr. Fellowes," I replied; "I thought the question we were arguing was as to the truth or the falsehood of Christianity, not whether the bulk of mankind are fully competent to form an independent and profound judgment on its evidences: very few are competent to do so either on this or any other complex subject; certainly not (as our differences show) on the subject of your 'spiritualism.' But the incompetency of the great bulk of mankind to deal with complicated evidence makes a thing neither true nor false; perhaps on this, as on so many other subjects, the few must thoroughly sift the matter for the many. If your present objection were of force, what would become of truth in politics, law, medicine, in all which the great majority must trust much to the conclusions of their wiser fellow-creatures? Your observation is no confutation of the evidences for Christianity: it is simply a satire upon God and the condition of the human creatures he has made!" "Well, let that pass," said Fellowes; "I was going to say further, that it is not so clear to every one that Christ is so very wonderful an ideal of humanity. Do you remember that Mr. Newman says in his 'Phases,' that, when he was a boy, he read Benson's Life of Fletcher of Madely, and thought Fletcher a more perfect man than Jesus Christ? and he also says that he imagines, if he were to read the book again, he would think the same. Have you nothing to say to that?" "NOTHING," said I, "except to point you to the infinitely different estimates of Christ formed by other men who yet think of historical Christianity much as you do. How differently do such writers as Mr. Greg and Mr. Parker speak! How do they almost exhaust the resources of language to express their sentiments of this wonderful character! As to Mr. Newman's impression, I do not think it worth an answer. When a man so far forgets himself as to say what he can hardly help knowing will be unspeakably painful to multitudes of his fellow-creatures, on the strength of boyish impressions,--not even thinking it worth while to verify those impressions, and see whether, after thirty or forty years, he is not something more than a boy,--I think it is scarcely worth while to reply. Christianity is willing to consider the arguments of men, but not the impressions of boys." "But we must not be too hard." said Harrington, "upon Mr. Newman; it is evident, from his Hebrew Monarchy, that, as he takes a benevolent pleasure in defending those whom nobody else will defend,--in petting Ahab, whom he pronounces rather weak than wicked, and palliating Jezebel, whose character was, it seems, grievously deteriorated by contact with the 'prophets of Jehovah,'--so he has a chivalrous habit of depressing those who have been particularly the objects of veneration. Elisha, Samuel, and David are all brought down a great many degrees in the moral scale. He has simply done the same with Christ." "Well," said Fellowes, "I cannot help agreeing with Mr. Newman in thinking that, when one hears men made the objects of extravagant eulogy, it almost 'tempts one, even though a stranger to their very name, to "pick holes," as the saying is.'" "It may be so," said I; "but it is a tendency against which we should guard. It would lead us, like him of Athens, to ostracize Aristides: we should be weary of hearing him continually called 'The Just.'" "However." rejoined Fellowes, "I am weary of hearing Christ so perpetually called our example. As Mr. Newman says, he cannot, except in a very modified sense, be such. 'His garments will not fit us.'" "Did you ever hear," said I. "that fathers and mothers ought to set an example to their children?" "Certainly." "Yet surely not in all things can they be such. Their garments surely will not fit their children." "No." said Harrington; "those of the father at all events will not, if they are girls, nor of the mother, if they are boys. Fellowes, I think you had better say nothing on this subject. If men of fifty can, in all essential points, be beautiful examples to girls of ten,--in gentleness, in patience, in humility, in kindness, and so forth,--and all the more impressively for the wide interval between them, why, I suppose Jesus Christ may be as much to his disciples." "But, again," urged Fellowes to me, "you, like so many men, seem to lay such stress on the superiority of the morality of the New Testament. I cannot see it. I confess, with Mr. Foxton and many more, that it seems to me that it has not such a very great advantage over that of many heathen moralists who have said the same things,--Plato, for example." I replied, that, of course, it would be of no avail to affirm in general (what I was yet convinced was true), that the New Testament inculcated a system of ethics much more just and comprehensive than any other volume in the world. I told him, however, that I thought he would not deny that its manner of conveying ethical truth was unique; that it not only contained more admirable and varied summaries of duty than any other book whatever, but that we should seek in vain in any other for such a profusion of just maxims and weighty sentiments, expressed with such comprehensive brevity, or illustrated with so much beauty and pathos. I remarked that, if he would be pleased to do as I had once done,--compile a selection of the principal precepts and maxims from the most admirable ethical works of antiquity (those of Aristotle, for example), and compare them with two or three of the summaries of similar precepts in the New Testament,--he would at once feel how much more vivid, touching, animated, and even comprehensive, was the Scriptural expression of the same truths. But I further observed, that, even to obtain the means of such comparison, he must reject from Plato or the Stagyrite twenty times the bulk of questionable speculations, and dreary subtilties, which separate by long intervals those gems of moral truth, which everywhere sparkle on the pages of the New Testament. I told him I could not help laying great stress on the degree and manner in which this element enters into the composition of the New Testament; that ethical truths are there expressed in every variety of form which can fix them upon the imagination and the heart, with an entire absence of those prolix discussions and metaphysical refinements which form so large a portion of Aristotle and Plato. If we find in these writers a moral truth expressed with something approaching the comprehensive beauty and simplicity of the Gospels, we are filled with surprise and rapture, and dig out with joy the glittering fragment from the mass of earthy matter,--oppressive disquisitions about "ideas" and "essences," "energies" and "entelechies," and so forth, in which it is sure to be imbedded. I promised, if health and life were given, to exhibit some day these gems, with a sufficient portion of the surrounding earth still attached to them, and to contrast them with those of the New Testament. "In this strange volume," I continued, "the most beautiful ethical maxims exist in unexampled profusion. After reading Aristotle's ethics, I feel, when I turn to the New Testament, as Linnaeus is said to have felt when he first saw growing wild the masses of blooming gorse, which he had never seen in his cold North, except as a sheltered exotic. Whether it was likely that contemporaries of the Pharisees, who were sunk in formalism, and who had glossed away every moral and spiritual the Law, could reach and maintain such elevation of tone, I leave you to judge." But though I felt this, I acknowledged that it was difficult to express it; and said that perhaps the best way to compare the morality of the New Testament with the ethical system of any philosopher, or the code of any legislator, would be to imagine them all universally adopted, and see how much would have to be objected to,--how much "brick" was mingled with the "porphyry." "If, for example," said I, "Plato, who, I admit, so flashes upon us the sublimest and most comprehensive principles of morals, and whose ethical system you say is identical with that of Christianity, had the forming of a republic, you would have community of women property, --women trained to war,---infanticide certain circumstances,--young children led to battle (though at a safe distance), that 'the young might early scent carnage, and be inured to slaughter! Both with him and Aristotle slavery would be a regularly sanctioned and perfectly natural institution. Not only did they entertain very lax notions of the relation of the sexes, but the tone in which they speak of most abominable corruptions--I do not except cannibalism--to which humanity has ever degraded implied that they regarded such things as comparatively venial. I know no greater single names than these, and I presume that these points you would find so, difficulty in digesting." He admitted it. I told him I supposed he would take equal objections to the Gentoo, or the Roman, or the Spartan code, as also to the Koran. He admitted all this too. "But now, if we take the Christian code, and suppose the New Testament made the literal guide of in every man, tell me, Mr. Fellowes, what would the consequence? What would you wish otherwise?" "Why," said Harrington, smiling, "he would, perhaps, object that there would be no more war, and that retaliation would be impossible." "The former," said I, "we could all endure, I suppose; nor be unwilling to give up the latter, seeing that there would, in that case, be no wrongs to avenge. It would not matter that you would be compelled to turn your right cheek to him who smote you on the left (let the interpretation be as literal as you will), since no one would strike you on the left; nor that you must surrender your cloak to him who took away your coat, since no one would take your coat. But tell me, is there any thing more serious that would follow from the literal and universal adoption of the ethics of the New Testament?" Fellowes acknowledged that he knew of nothing, unless it was a sanction of slavery. "I do not admit that the New Testament sanctions it," I replied; "and I will, if you like, give my reasons in full, another time. But is there any thing else?" He said he did not recollect any thing. "But you would recoil from the literal realization of the systems and codes we have mentioned." He confessed this also. "The superiority of the Christian code, then," said I, "is practically acknowledged. And it is further often confessed, in a most significant way, by the mode in which the enemies of Christianity taunt its disciples. When they speak of the vices and corruptions of the heathen, they blame, and justly blame, the principles of their vicious systems; and ask how it could be otherwise? When they blame the Christian, the first and the last thing they usually do, is to point in triumph to the contrast between his principles and practice. 'How much better,' say they, 'is his code than conduct!' It is as a hypocrite that they censure him. It is sad for him that it should be so; but it is a glorious compliment to the morality of the New Testament. Its enemies know not how to attack its disciples, except by endeavoring to show that they do not act as it bids them. Surely," said I, in conclusion "this uniform excellence of the Christian ethics, as compared with other systems, is a peculiarity worth noting, and utterly incomprehensible upon the hypothesis that it was the unaided work of man. That there are points on which the moral systems of men and nations osculate, is most true; that there should have been certain approximations on many most important subjects was to be expected from the essential identity of human nature, in all ages and countries; but their deviations in some point or other--usually in several--from what we acknowledge to be both right and expedient, is equally undeniable. That, when such men as Plato and Aristotle tried their hands upon the problem, they should err, while the writers of the New Testament should have succeeded,--that these last should do what all mankind besides had in some points or other failed to do,--is sufficiently wonderful; that Galilean Jews should have solved the problem is, whether we consider their age, their ignorance, or their prepossessions, to me utterly incredible." It was now very late; and we rose to retire. Mr. Fellowes said, "I should be glad to know what answer you would make to Mr. Newman's observations on three points,--one of them just alluded to,--on which he affirms that undue credit has been given to Christianity; I mean its supposed elevating influence in relation to women, its supposed mitigation of slavery, and its supposed triumphs before Constantine." I said I would scribble a few remarks on the subject, and would give them to him in a day or two. I remarked that Mr. Newman had treated these great subjects very briefly, but that I could not be quite so concise as he had been. ____ The discussions of the preceding day had made so deep an impression upon me, that when I went to bed I found it very difficult to sleep; and when I did get off at last, my thoughts shaped themselves into a singular dream, which, though only a dream, is not, I think, without instruction. I shall entitle it THE BLANK BIBLE. Etlen gegonein vuktiphoit' oneirata. AEschyl. Prom. Vinct. 657. [I take courage to proclaim night-roaming dreams] I thought I was at home, and that on taking up my Greek Testament one morning to read (as is my wont) a chapter, I found, to my surprise, that what seemed to be the old, familiar book was a total blank; not a character was inscribed in it or upon it. I supposed that some book like it had, by some accident, got into its place; and, without stopping to hunt for it, took down a large quarto volume which contained both the Old and New Testaments. To my surprise, however, this also was a blank from beginning to end. With that facility of accommodation to any absurdities which is proper to dreams, I did not think very much of the coincidence of two blank volumes having been substituted for two copies of the Scriptures in two different places, and therefore quietly reached down a copy of the Hebrew Bible, in which I could just manage to make out a chapter. To my increased surprise, and even something like terror, I found that this also was a perfect blank. While I was musing on this unaccountable phenomenon, my servant entered the room, and said that thieves had been in the house during the night, for that her large Bible, which she had left on the kitchen table, had been removed, and another volume left by mistake in its place, of just the same size, but made of nothing but white paper. She added, with a laugh, that it must have been a very queer kind of thief to steal a Bible at all; and that he should have left another book instead, made it the more odd. I asked her if any thing else had been missed, and if there were any signs of people having entered the house. She answered in the negative to both these questions; and I began to be strangely perplexed. On going out into the street, I met a friend, who, almost before we had exchanged greetings, told me that a most unaccountable robbery had been committed at his house during the night, for that every copy of the Bible had been removed, and a volume of exactly the same size, but of pure white paper, left in its stead. Upon telling him that the same accident had happened to myself, we began to think that there was more in it than we had at first surmised. On proceeding further, we found every one complaining, in similar perplexity, of the same loss; and before night it became evident that a great and terrible "miracle" had been wrought in the world; that in one night, silently, but effectually, that hand which had written its terrible menace on the walls of Belshazzar's palace had reversed the miracle; had sponged out of our Bibles every syllable they contained, and thus reclaimed the most precious gift which Heaven had bestowed, and ungrateful man had abused. I was curious to watch the effects of this calamity on the varied characters of mankind. There was universally, however, an interest in the Bible now it was lost, such as had never attached to it while it was possessed; and he who had been but happy enough to possess fifty copies might have made his fortune. One keen speculator, as soon as the first whispers of the miracle began to spread, hastened to the depositories of the Bible Society and the great book-stocks in Paternoster Row, and offered to buy up at a high premium any copies of the Bible that might be on hand; but the worthy merchant was informed that there was not a single copy remaining. Some, to whom their Bible had been a "blank" book for twenty years, and who would never have known whether it was full or empty had not the lamentations of their neighbors impelled them to look into it, were not the least loud in their expressions of sorrow at this calamity. One old gentleman, who had never troubled the book in his life, said it was "confounded hard to be deprived of his religion in his old age"; and another, who seemed to have lived as though he had always been of Mandeville's opinion, that "private vices were public benefits," was all at once alarmed for the morals of mankind. He feared, he said, that the loss of the Bible would have "a cursed bad effect on the public virtue of the country." As the fact was universal and palpable, it was impossible that, like other miracles, it should leave the usual loopholes for scepticism. Miracles in general, in order to be miracles at all, have been singular or very rare violations of a general law, witnessed by a few, on whose testimony they are received, and in the reception of whose testimony consists the exercise of that faith to which they appeal. It was evident, that, whatever the reason of this miracle, it was not an exercise of docile and humble faith founded on evidence no more than just sufficient to operate as a moral test. This was a miracle which, it could not be denied, looked marvellously like a "judgment." However, there were, in some cases, indications enough to show how difficult it is to give such evidence as will satisfy the obstinacy of mankind. One old sceptical fellow, who had been for years bedridden, was long in being convinced (if indeed, he ever was) that any thing extraordinary had occurred in the world; he at first attributed the reports of what he heard to the "impudence" of his servants and dependents, and wondered that they should dare to venture upon such a joke. On finding these assertions backed by those of his acquaintance, he pished and pshawed, and looked very wise, and ironically congratulated them on this creditable conspiracy with the insolent rascals, his servants. On being shown the old Bible, of which he recognized the binding, though he had never seen the inside, and finding it a very fair book of blank paper, he quietly observed that it was very easy to substitute the one book for the other, though he did not pretend to divine the motives which induced people to attempt such a clumsy piece of imposition; and, on their persisting that they were not deceiving him, swore at them as a set of knaves, who would fain persuade him out of his senses. On their bringing him a pile of blank Bibles backed by the asseverations of other neighbors, he was ready to burst with indignation. "As to the volumes," he said, "it was not difficult to procure a score or two 'of commonplace books,' and they had doubtless done so to carry on the cheat; for himself he would sooner believe that the whole world was leagued against him than credit any such nonsense." They were angry, in their turn, at his incredulity, and told him that he was very much mistaken if he thought himself of so much importance that they would all perjure themselves to delude him, since they saw plainly enough that he could do that very easily for himself, without any help of theirs. They really did not care one farthing whether he believed them or not: if he did not choose to believe the story, he might leave it alone. "Well, well," said he, "it is all very fine: but unless you show me, not one of these blank books, which could not impose upon an owl, but one of the very blank Bibles themselves, I will not believe." At this curious demand, one of his nephews who stood by (a lively young fellow) was so exceedingly tickled, that, though he had some expectations from the sceptic, he could not help bursting out into laughter; but he became grave enough when his angry uncle told him that he would leave him in his will nothing but the family Bible, which he might make a ledger if he pleased. Whether this resolute old sceptic ever vanquished his incredulity, I do not remember. Very different from the case of this sceptic was that of a most excellent female relative, who had been equally long a prisoner to her chamber, and to whom the Bible had been, as to so many thousands more, her faithful companion in solitude, and the all-sufficient solace of her sorrows. I found her gazing intently on the blank Bible, which had been so recently bright to her with the lustre of immortal hopes. She burst into tears as she saw me. "And has your faith left you too, my gentle friend?" said I. "No," she answered, "and I trust it never will. He who has taken away the Bible has not taken away my memory, and I now recall all that is most precious in that book which has so long been my meditation. It is a heavy judgment upon the land; and surely," added this true Christian, never thinking of the faults of others, "I, at least, cannot complain, for I have not prized as I ought that book, which yet, of late years, I think I can say, I loved more than any other possession on earth. But I know," she continued, smiling through her tears, "that the sun shines, though clouds may veil him for the moment; and I am unshaken in my faith in those truths which have transcribed on my memory, though they are blotted from my book. In these hopes I have lived, and in these hopes I will die." "I have no consolation to offer to you," said I, "for you need none." She quoted many of the passages which have been, through all ages, the chief stay of sorrowing humanity; and I thought the words of Scripture had never sounded so solemn or so sweet before. "I shall often come to see you," I said, "to hear a chapter in the Bible, for you know it far better than I." No sooner had I taken my leave, than I was informed that an old lady of my acquaintance had summoned me in haste. She said she was much impressed by this extraordinary calamity. As, to my certain knowledge, she had never troubled the contents of the book, I was surprised that she had so taken to heart the loss of that which had, practically, been lost to her all her days. "Sir" said she, the moment I entered, "the Bible, the Bible." "Yes, madam," said I, "this is a very grievous and terrible visitation. I hope we may learn the lessons which it is calculated to teach us." "I am sure," answered she, "I am not likely to forget it for a while, for it has been a grievous loss to me." "I told her I was very glad." "Glad!" she rejoined. "Yes," I said, "I am glad to find that you think it so great a loss, for that loss may then be a gain indeed. There is, thanks be to God, enough left in our memories to carry us to heaven." "Ah! but," said she, "the hundred pounds and the villany of my maid-servant. Have you not heard?" This gave me some glimpse as to the secret of her sorrow. She told me that she had deposited several bank-notes in the leaves of her family Bible, thinking that, to be sure, nobody was likely to look there for them. "No sooner," said she, "were the Bibles made useless by this strange event, than my servant peeped into every copy in the house, and she now denies that she found any thing in my old family Bible, except two or three blank leaves of thin paper, which, she says, she destroyed; that, if any characters were ever on them, they must have been erased when those of the Bible were obliterated. But I am sure she lies; for who would believe that Heaven took the trouble to blot out my precious bank-notes. They were not God's word, I trow." It was clear that she considered the "promise to pay" better by far than any "promises" which the book contained. "I should not have cared so much about the Bible," she whined, hypocritically, "because, as you truly observe, our memories may retain enough to carry us to heaven,"--a little in that case would certainly go a great way, I thought to myself,--"and if not, there are those who can supply the loss. But who is to get my bank-notes back again? Other people have only lost their Bibles." It was, indeed, a case beyond my power of consolation. The calamity not only strongly stirred the feelings of men, and upon the whole, I think, beneficially, but it immediately stimulated their ingenuity. It was wonderful to see the energy with which men discussed the subject, and the zeal, too, with which they ultimately exerted themselves to repair the loss. I could even hardly regret it, when I considered what a spectacle of intense activity, intellectual and moral, the visitation had occasioned. It was very early suggested, that the whole Bible had again and again been quoted piecemeal in one book or other; that it had impressed its own image on the surface of human literature, and had been reflected on its course as the stars on a steam. But, alas! on investigation, it was found as vain to expect that the gleam of starlight would still remain mirrored in the water when the clouds had veiled the stars themselves, as that the bright characters of the Bible would remain reflected in the books of man when had been erased from the Book of God. On inspection it was found that every text, every phrase which had been quoted, not only in the books of devotion and theology, but in those of poetry and fiction, had been remorselessly expunged. Never before had I had any adequate idea of the extent to which the Bible had moulded the intellectual and moral life of the last eighteen centuries, nor how intimately it had interfused itself with habits of thought and modes of expression; nor how naturally and extensively its comprehensive imagery and language had been introduced into human writings, and most of all where there had been most of genius. A vast portion of literature became instantly worthless, and was transformed into so much waste-paper. It was almost impossible to look into any book of any merit, and read ten pages together, without coming to some provoking erasures and mutilations, some "hiatus valde deflendi," which made whole passages perfectly unintelligible. Many of the sweetest passages of Shakspeare were converted into unmeaning nonsense, from the absence of those words which his own all but divine genius had appropriated from a still diviner source. As to Milton, he was nearly ruined, as might naturally be supposed. Walter Scott's novels were filled with perpetual lacunae. I hoped it might be otherwise with the philosophers, and so it was; but even here it was curious to see what strange ravages the visitation had wrought. Some of the most beautiful and comprehensive of Bacon's Aphorisms were reduced to enigmatical nonsense. Those who held large stocks of books knew not what to do. Ruin stared them in the face; their value fell seventy or eighty per cent. All branches of theology, in particular, were a drug. One fellow said, that he should not so much have minded if the miracle had sponged out what was human as well as what was divine, for in that case he would at least have had so many thousand volumes of fair blank paper, which was as much as many of them were worth before. A wag answered, that it was not usual, in despoiling a house, to carry away any thing except the valuables. Meantime, millions of blank Bibles filled the shelves of stationers, to be sold for day-books and ledgers, so that there seemed to be no more employment for the paper-makers in that direction for many years to come. A friend, who used to mourn over the thought of palimpsest manuscripts,--of portions of Livy and Cicero erased to make way for the nonsense of some old monkish chronicler, --exclaimed, as he saw a tradesman trudging off with a handsome morocco-bound quarto for a day-book, "Only think of the pages once filled with the poetry of Isaiah, and the parables of Christ, sponged clean to make way for orders for silks and satins, muslins, cheese, and bacon!" The old authors, of course, were left to their mutilations; there was no way in which the confusion could be remedied. But the living began to prepare new editions of their works, in which they endeavored to give a new turn to the thoughts which had been mutilated by erasure, and I was nor a little amused to see that many, having stolen from writers whose compositions were as much mutilated as their own, could not tell the meaning of their own pages. It seemed at first to be a not unnatural impression, that even those who could recall the erased texts as they perused the injured books, --who could mentally full up the imperfect clauses,--were not at liberty to inscribe them; they seemed to fear that, if they did so, the characters would be as if written in invisible ink, or would surely fade away. It was with trembling that some at length made the attempt, and to their unspeakable joy found the impression durable. Day after day passed; still the characters remained; and the people length came to the conclusion, that God left them at liberty, if they could, to reconstruct the Bible for themselves out of their collective remembrances of its divine contents. This led again to some curious results, all of them singularly indicative of the good and ill that is in human nature. It was with incredible joy that men came to the conclusion that the book might be thus recovered nearly entire, and nearly in the very words of the original, by the combined effort of human memories. Some of the obscurest of the species, who had studied nothing else but the Bible, but who had well studied that, came to be objects of reverence among Christians and booksellers; and the various texts they quoted were taken down with the utmost care. He who could fill up a chasm by the restoration of words which were only partially remembered, or could contribute the least text that had been forgotten, was regarded as a sort of public benefactor. At length, a great public movement amongst the divines of all denominations was projected, to collate the results of these partial recoveries of the sacred text. It was curious, again, to see in how various ways human passions and prejudices came into play. It was found that the several parties who had furnished from memory the same portions of the sacred texts had fallen into a great variety of different readings; and though most of them were of as little importance in themselves as the bulk of those which are paraded in the critical recensions of Mill, Griesbach, or Tischendorf, they became, from the obstinacy and folly of the men who contended about them, important differences, merely because they were differences. Two reverend men of the synod, I remember, had a rather tough dispute as to whether it was twelve baskets full of fragments of the five loaves which the five thousand left, and seven baskets full of the seven loaves which the four thousand had left, or vice versa: as also whether the words in John vi. 19 were "about twenty or five and twenty," or "about thirty or five and thirty furlongs." To do the assembly justice, however, there was found an intense general earnestness and sincerity befitting the occasion, and an equally intense desire to obtain, as nearly as possible, the very words of the lost volume; only (as was also, alas! natural) vanity in some; in others, confidence in their strong impressions and in the accuracy of their memory; obstinacy and pertinacity in many more (all aggravated as usual by controversy),--caused many odd embarrassments before the final adjustment was effected. I was particularly struck with the varieties of reading which mere prejudices in favor of certain systems of theology occasioned in the several partisans of each. No doubt the worthy men were generally unconscious of the influence of these prejudices; yet, somehow, the memory was seldom so dear in relation to those texts which told against them as in relation to those which told for them. A certain Quaker had an impression that the words instituting the Eucharist were preceded by a qualifying expression, "And Jesus said to the twelve, Do this in remembrance of me"; while he could not exactly recollect whether or not the formula of "baptism" was expressed in the general terms some maintained it was. Several Unitarians had a clear recollection, that in several places the authority of manuscripts, as estimated in Griesbaeh's recension, was decidedly against the common reading; while the Trinitarians maintained that Griesbaeb's recension in those instances had left that reading undisturbed. An Episcopalian began to bare his doubts whether the usage in favor of the interchange of the words "bishop" and "presbyter" was so uniform as the Presbyterian and Independent maintained, and whether there was not a passage in which Timothy and Titus were expressly called "bishops." The Presbyterian and Independent had similar biases; and one gentleman, who was a strenuous advocate of the system of the latter, enforced one equivocal remembrance by saying, he could, as it were, distinctly see the very spot on the page before his mind's eye. Such tricks will imagination play with the memory, when preconception plays tricks with the imagination! In like manner; it was seen that, while the Calvinist was very distinct in his recollection of the ninth chapter of Romans, his memory was very faint as respects the exact wording of some of the verses in the Epistle of James; and though the Arminian had a most vivacious impression of all those passages which spoke of the claims of the law, he was in some doubt whether the Apostle Paul's sentiments respecting human depravity, and justification by faith alone, had not been a little exaggerated. In short, it very dearly appeared that tradition was no safe guide; that if, even while she was hardly a month old; she could play such freaks with the memories of honest people, there was but a sorry prospect of the secure transmission of truth for eighteen hundred years. From each man's memory seemed to glide something or other which he was not inclined to retain there, and each seemed to substitute in its stead something that he liked better. Though the assembly was in the main most anxious to come to a right decision, and really advanced an immense way towards completing a true and faithful copy of the lost original, the disputes which arose, on almost every point of theology, promised the world an abundant crop of new sects and schisms. Already there had sprung up several whose names had never been heard of in the world, but for this calamity. Amongst them were two who were called the "Long Memories" and the "Short Memories." Their general tendencies coincided pretty much with those of the orthodox and the rationalists. It was curious to see by what odd associations, sometimes of contrast, sometimes of resemblance, obscure texts were recovered, though they were verified, when once mentioned, by the consciousness of hundreds. One old gentleman, a miser, contributed (and it was all he did contribute) a maxim of prudence, which he recollected, principally from having systematically abused it. All the ethical maxims, indeed, were soon collected; for though, as usual, no one recollected his own peculiar duties or infirmities, every one, as usual, kindly remembered those of his neighbors. Husbands remembered what was due from their wives, and wives what was due from their husbands. The unpleasant sayings about "better to dwell on the house-top" and "the perpetual dropping on a very rainy day" were called to mind by thousands. Almost the whole of Proverbs and Ecclesiastes were contributed, in the merest fragments, in this way. As for Solomon's "times for every thing," few could remember them all, but every body remembered some. Undertakers said there was a "time to mourn," and comedians that there was a "time to laugh"; young ladies innumerable remembered that there was a "time to love," and people of all kinds that there was a "time to hate"; every body knew there was a "time to speak," but a worthy Quaker reminded them that there was also a "time to keep silence." Some dry parts of the laws of Moses were recovered by the memory of jurists, who seemed to have no knowledge whatever of any other parts of the sacred volume; while in like manner one or two antiquarians supplied some very difficult genealogical and chronological matters, in equal ignorance of the moral and spiritual contents of the Scriptures. As people became accustomed to the phenomenon, the perverse humors of mankind displayed themselves in a variety of ways. The efforts of the pious assembly were abundantly laughed at; but I must, in justice, add, without driving them from their purpose. Some profane wags suggested there was now a good opportunity of realizing the scheme taking "not" out of the Commandments and inserting it in the Creed. But they were sarcastically told, that the old objection to the plan would still apply; that they would not sin with equal relish if they were expressly commanded to do so, nor take such pleasure in infidelity if infidelity became a duty. Others said that, if the world must wait till the synod had concluded its labors, the prophecies of the New Testament would not be written till some time after their fulfilment; and that, if all the conjectures of the learned divines were inserted in the new edition of the Bible, the declaration in John would be literally verified, and that "the world itself would not contain all the books which would be written." But the most amusing thing of all was to see, as time made man more familiar with this strange event, the variety of speculations which were entertained respecting its object and design. Many began gravely to question whether it was the duty of the synod to attempt the reconstruction of a book of which God himself had so manifestly deprived the world, and whether it was not a profane, nay, an atheistical, attempt to frustrate his will. Some, who were secretly glad to be released from so troublesome a book, were particularly pious on this head, and exclaimed bitterly against this rash attempt to counteract and cancel the decrees of Heaven. The Papists, on their part, were confident that the design was to correct the exorbitancies of a rabid Protestantism, and show the world, by direct miracle, the necessity of submitting to the decision of their Church and the infallibility of the supreme Pontiff; who, as they truly alleged, could decide all knotty points quite as well without the Word of God as with it. On being reminded that the writings of the Fathers, on which they laid so much stress as the vouchers of their traditions, were mutilated by the same stroke which had demolished the Bible (all their quotations from the sacred volume being erased), some of the Jesuits affirmed that many of the Fathers were rather improved than otherwise by the omission, and that they found these writings quite as intelligible and not less edifying than before. In this, many Protestants very cordially agreed. On the other hand, many of our modern infidels gave an entirely new turn to the whole affair, by saying that the visitation was evidently not in judgment, but in mercy; that God in compassion, and not in indignation, had taken away a book which man had regarded with an extravagant admiration and idolatry, and which they had exalted to the place of that clear internal oracle which He had planted in the human breast; in a word, that, if it was a rebuke at all, it was a rebuke to a rampant "Bibliolatry." As I heard all these different versions of so simple a matter, and found that not a few were inclined to each, I could, not help exclaiming, "In truth the Devil is a very clever fellow, and man even a greater blockhead than I had taken him for." But in spite of the surprise with which I had listened to these various explanations of an event which seemed to me clear as if written with a sunbeam, this last reason, which assigned as the cause of God's resumption of his own gift, an extravagant admiration and veneration of it on the part of mankind,--it being so notorious that those who professed belief in its divine origin and authority had (even the best of them) so grievously neglected both the study and the practice of it,--struck me as so exquisitely ludicrous, that I broke into a fit of laughter, which awoke me. I found that it was broad daylight, and the morning sun was streaming in at the window, and shining in quiet radiance upon the open Bible which lay on my table. So strongly had my dream impressed me, that I almost felt as though, on inspection, I should find the sacred leaves a blank, and it was therefore with joy that my eyes rested on those words, which I read through grateful tears: "The gifts of God are without repentance." ____ July 19. This morning my friends treated me to a long dialogue in which it was contended THAT MIRACLES ARE IMPOSSIBLE, BUT THAT IT IS IMPOSSIBLE TO PROVE IT. "I think, Fellowes," Harrington began, "if there be any point in which you and I are likely to agree, it is in that dogma that miracles are impossible. And yet here, as usual, my sceptical doubts pursue and baffle me. I wish you would try with me whether there be not an escape from them." Fellowes assented. "As I have to propose and explain my doubts," said Harrington, "perhaps you will excuse my taking the 'lion's share' of the conversation. But now, by way of beginning in some way,--what, my dear friend, is a miracle?" "What is a miracle? Ay, that is the question; but though it may be difficult to find an exact definition of it, it is easily understood by every body." "Very likely; then you can with more ease give me your notion of it." "If, for example," said Fellowes, "the sun which has risen so long, every morning, were to rise no more; or if a man, whom we knew to be dead and buried, were to come to life again; or if what we know to be water were at once to become wine, none would hesitate to call that a miracle." "You remember, perhaps," said Harrington, "an amusing little play of Socratic humor in the dialogue of Theaetetus, somewhere in the introduction, when the ironical querist has asked that intelligent youth what science is? "I cannot say that I do; for though I have read that dialogue, it is some years ago." "Let me read you the passage then. Here it is," said Harrington, reaching down the dialogue and turning to the place. "'Tell me frankly,' says Socrates, 'what do you think science is?' 'It appears to me,' says Theaetetus, 'that such things as one may learn from Theodorus here, --namely, geometry, as well as other things which you have just enumerated; and again, that the shoemaker's art, and those of other artisans,--all and each of them are nothing else but science.' 'You are munificent indeed,' said Socrates; 'for when asked for one thing, you have given many.' I almost think," continued Harrington, "that, if Socrates were here, he would do what I should not presume to do,--banter you in a somewhat similar way. He would say, that, having asked what a miracle was, Mr. Fellowes told him that half a dozen things were miracles, but did not tell him what every miracle was; that is, never told him what made all miracles such. Suffer me again to ask you what a miracle is?" "I recollect now enough of the charming dialogue from which you have taken occasion to twit me, to answer you in the same vein. As it turns out, Socrates, appears to be at least equally ignorant with Theaetetus as to the definition of which he is in search. I think it may be as well for me to do at once what certainly Theaetetus would have done, had he known that his reprover was as much in the dark as himself." "What is that?" said Harrington. "He would have cut short a good deal of banter by at once turning the tables upon his ironical tormentor; acknowledging his impotence, and making him give the required definition. Come, let me take that course." "I have no objection, my friend, if you will first, as you say, acknowledge your impotence; only I would not advise you, for in that case you would be obliged to confess that you have resolved with me that a miracle is impossible, and yet that you are not quite sure that you can tell, or rather own that you cannot, what a miracle is. Let me entreat you to essay some definition; and if you break down, I have no objection to take my chance of the honor of success or the ignominy of failure." "The fact is," answered Fellowes, "that, like many other things, it is better understood--" "Than described, as the novelists say, when they feel that their powers of description fail them. But this will hardly do for us; we are philosophers, you know (save the mark!) in search of truth.--A thing that is well known by every body, and is capable of being described by nobody, would be almost a miracle of itself; and I think it imports us to give some better account of the matter. I can see that my orthodox uncle there is already secretly amusing himself at the anticipation of our perplexities." I took no notice of the remark, but went on writing. "Well, then, if I must give you some definition," said Fellowes, "I know not if I can do better than avail myself of the usual one, that it is a suspension or violation of a law of nature. Is not that the account which Hume gives of the matter?" "I think it is. I am afraid, however, that at the very outset we should have some difficulty in determining one of the phrases used in this very definition,--namely, how we are to understand a law of nature. I do not ask whether law implies a lawgiver; you will assert it, and I shall not gainsay it: it is at present immaterial. But do you not mean by a law of nature (I am asking the question merely to ascertain whether or not we are thinking of the same thing) just this;--the fact that similar phenomena uniformly reappear in an observed series of antecedents and consequents, which series is invariable so far as we know, and so far as others know, whose experience we can test? Is not that what you mean? You do not, I presume, suppose you know any thing of the connection which binds together causes and effects, or the manner in which the secret bond (if there be any) which unites antecedents and consequents, in any natural phenomena, is maintained?" "I certainly make no such pretensions; all that I mean by a law of nature is just what you have mentioned. I shall be well content to adhere to your explanation," answered Fellowes. "So that when we observe similar phenomena reproduced in the aforesaid series of antecedents and consequents, we call that a law of nature, and affirm that violation of that law would be a miracle, and impossible?" "Certainly." "And further, do you not agree with me that such invariable series is sufficiently certified to us by our own uniform experience,--that of all our neighbors and friends,--and, in a word, that of all whose experience we can test?" "I agree with you." "I am content," replied Harrington; "but at the outset it seems to me that the expression I have used requires a little expansion to meet the sophistry of our opponents. I will either explain myself now, and then leave you to judge; or I will say no more of the matter here, but pursue our discussion, and let the difficulty (if there be one) disclose itself in the course of it, and be provided for as may be in our power." "What is it?" "It is this;--that it cannot, with truth, be said, in relation to many phenomena, that (so far as our experience informs us) they do follow each other in an absolutely invariable order; which phenomena, nevertheless, we believe to be as much under the dominion of law as the rest; and any violation of this law, I presume, you would think as much a miracle as any other. For example, we do not find the same remedies or the same regimen will produce the same effects upon different individuals at different times; again, the varieties of the weather, in every climate, are dependent upon so many causes, that it transcends all human skill to calculate them. Yet I dare say you can easily imagine certain degrees and continuity of change in these variable phenomena which you would not hesitate to call as much miracle as if the dead were raised, or the sun stayed in mid-heaven." "Yes, unquestionably," replied Fellowes; "if I found, for instance that a dozen men could take an ounce of arsenic or half a pound of opium with impunity, I should not hesitate to regard it as a miracle, although the precise amount sufficient to kill in any particular case might not be capable of being ascertained. In the same manner, if I found that though the amount of heat and cold in summer and winter in our climate is subject to marked variations, yet that suddenly for several consecutive years we had more frost in July than in December; that gooseberries and currants were getting ripe on Christmas day, and men were skating on the Serpentine on the 10th of August, I should certainly argue that a change tantamount to a miracle had been wrought in nature." "You have just expressed my own feelings on that point," said Harrington; "and it was this very consideration which made me say, that, in order to render my expression perfectly clear, and to obviate misconception and misrepresentation, we must endeavor to include this very frequent case of a certain limited variation from the order of nature as consistent with the absence of miracle, and a certain degree of that variation as inconsistent with it." "Will you just state our criterion once more, with the limitation attached; and then I shall know better whether we are certainly agreed in the criterion we ought to employ?" "I say, then," resumed Harrington, "that our uniform experience, that of our friends and neighbors, and of all whose experience we have the opportunity of testing, as to the order of nature,--meaning by that either an order absolutely invariable, or varying only limits which are themselves absolutely invariable,--justifies us in pronouncing an event contradicting such experience to be all impossibility. If the principle is worth any thing, let us embrace it, and inflexibly apply it." "And I, for one," replied Fellowes, "am quite satisfied with the principle and the limitations you have laid down; and am so confident of its correctness, that I do not hesitate to say that all the miraculous histories on record are to be summarily rejected." "For example," said Harrington, "we have seen the sun rise every morning and set every evening all our lives; and every one whose experience we can test has seen the same. Every man who has come into the world has come into it but one way, and has as certainly gone out of it, and has not returned; and every one whose experience we can test affirms the same. We therefore conclude on this uniform and invariable experience, that the same sequences took place yesterday and the day before, and will take place tomorrow and the day after; and we may fearlessly apply this principle both to the past and the future. I know of no other reason for rejecting a miracle; and if I am to apply the principle at all to phenomena which have not fallen under my own observation, I must apply it without restriction." "I am quite of your mind." "You think, with me, that our experience,--the experience of those about us,--the experience of all whose experience we have the means of testing,--is sufficient to settle the question as to the experience of those whose experience we have not the means of testing; who lived, for example, a thousand years before we were born; or in a distant part of the world, where we have never been?" "Certainly: why should we hesitate so to apply it?" "I am sure I know not; and you see I am not unwilling so to apply it. Only I asked the question, because we must not forget that many say it is begging the question; for, as a 'miracle' has not been exerted on us to give us a vision of the past experience of man, or his present experience in any part of the world we never visited, our opponents affirm, that to say that the experience we trust to has been and is the universal experience of man, is a clear petitio principii." "Surely," said Fellowes, "it may be said that the general experience of mankind has been of such a character." "Exactly so, as a postulate from our experience, as a generalized assumption that our experience may be taken as a specimen and criterion of all experience. We assume that,--we do not prove it. It is just as in any other case of induction; we say, 'Because this is true in twenty or thirty or a hundred instances (as the case may be), which we can test, --therefore it is generally or universally true'; we do not say, because this is true in these instances, and because it is also generally or universally true, therefore it is so! No; our true premise is restricted to what alone we know from our experience and the experience of all whose experience we can test if we please. This is our real ground on which we are to justify our rejection of all miracles, and let us adhere to it. As to your general experience, you see, the advocate of miracles easily gets over that. He says, 'Why, no one pretends that miracles are as "plenty as blackberries"; otherwise they would no longer be miracles; these are comparatively rare events, of course; and, being rare, are necessarily at variance with general experience'; and, for my part, I should not know how to answer the objection." "Well, then," said Fellowes. "let us adhere to that which is our real ground of objection, and let us consistently apply it." "With all my heart," said Harrington; "we agree then, that our own uniform experience,--that of all our neighbors and friends,--in fact, of all whose experience we can test, is a sufficient criterion of a law of nature, and justifies us in at once rejecting as possible any alleged fact which violates it." "Certainly." "For example, if it were asserted that last year that the sun never rose on a certain day, or, rather, for twenty-four hours the rotation of the earth ceased, we should instantly reject the story, without examination of witnesses, or any such thing." "No doubt of that." "And just so in other cases. This, then, is our ground. You would not (if I may advise) lay much stress on the fact that there have been so many stories of a supernatural kind false." "Why, I do not know whether it would not be wise to insist upon that argument. It seems to be not without weight," urged Fellowes. "Perhaps so," replied Harrington; "but it has, you see, this inconvenience, of proving more than you want. The greater part by far of all religions have been false. But you affirm that there is one little system absolutely true. The greater part of the theories of science and philosophy, which men, from time to time, have framed, have also been false; and yet you believe that there is such a thing as true philosophy and true science. Similarly, the generality of political governments have been founded on vicious principles, yet you hope for a political millennium at last. In short, the argument would go to prove, that, as there can never have been any true miracles because there have been so many false ones, so, for similar reasons, it is mere 'vanity and vexation of spirit' to search after truth in religion, or science, or politics; and though a sceptic, like myself, might not much mind it, perhaps it would trammel such a positive philosopher as you. Nay, a pertinacious opponent might even say, that, as you believe that in all these last cases there is a substance, else there would not have been the shadows, so, with reference to miracles, the very general belief of them rather argues that there have been miracles, than that there have been none. My advice is, that we adhere to these reasons we have assigned, for they are our real reasons." "Be it so; I hate miracles so much, that I care not by what means the doltish delusion is dissipated." "Only that the weapons should be fair?" "O, of course." "To resume, then. I say, that, if we were told that last year an event of such a miraculous nature occurred as that the earth did not revolve for twenty-four hours together, we should at once reject it, without any examination of witnesses, or troubling ourselves with any thing of the kind." "Unquestionably." "And if it were said to have occurred twenty years ago we should take the same course." "Certainly." "And so if any such event were said to have occurred eighteen hundred years ago?" "Agreed." "And if such events were said at that day to have occurred eighteen hundred years previously, we believe, of course, the men of that time would have been equally entitled to reason in the same way about them as ourselves; and, in short, that we may fearlessly apply the same principle to the same epoch." "Of course" "And so for two thousand years before that; and, in fact, we must believe that every thing has always been going on in the same manner, --the sun always rising and setting, men dying and never rising and so forth." "Exactly so, even from the beginning of the creation," said Fellowes. "The beginning of the creation! My good fellow, I do not understand you. As we have been going back, we have seen that there is no period at which the same principle of judgment will not apply, and, following it fearlessly, I say that we are in all fairness bound to believe that there never has been a period when the present order has been different from what it is; in other words, that the progression has been an eternal one." "I cannot admit that argument," said Fellowes. "Then be pleased to provide me with a good answer to it, which will still leave us at liberty to say, that a miracle (that is, a variation from the order of nature as determined by our uniform experience, and by that of the whole circle of our contemporaries) is impossible, and that we may reject at once any pretension of the kind." "But I do not admit that the creation of any thing or of all things is of the nature of a miracle." Harrington smiled. "I am afraid," said he, "that to common sense, to fair reasoning, to any philosopher worthy of the name there would be no difference except in magnitude, between such an event as the sudden appearance of an animal (say man) for the first time in our world, or the first appearance of a tree (such a thing never having been before), and the restoration to life of a dead man. Each is, to all intents and purposes, a violation of the previous established series of antecedents and consequents, and comes strictly within the limits of our definition of a miracle; and a miracle, you know is impossible. The only difference will be, that the miracle in the one case will be greater and more astonishing than that in the other." "But it is impossible, in the face of geologists, to contend that there have not been many such revolutions in the history of the world as these. Man himself is of comparatively recent introduction into our system." "I cannot help what the geologists affirm. If we are to abide by our principle, we have no warrant to believe that there have been any such violations, or infractions, or revolutions of nature's laws in the world's history. If they contend for the interpolation of events in the history of the universe, which, by our criterion, are of the nature of miracles, and we are convinced that miracles are impossible, we must reject the conclusions of geologists." "But may we not say, that the great epochs in the history of the universe are themselves but the manifestation of law?" "In no other sense, I think, than the advocate of miracles is entitled to say that the intercalation of miracles in the world's history is also according to law,--parts, though minute parts, of a universal plan, and permitted for reasons worthy of the Creator. To both, or neither, is the same answer open. Your objection is, I think, a mere sophistical evasion of the difficulty. There is no difference whatever in the nature of the events, except that the variation from the 'established series of sequences' is infinitely greater in those portentous revolutions of the universe to which the geologist points your attention. The application of our principle (as you affirm with me) will justify us in at once pronouncing any variation from the 'established series' whether occurring yesterday, a year ago, a thousand years ago, or a million of years ago, incredible; it will, in the same manner, justify the men of any age in saying the same of all previous ages; and I, therefore, while contending for your principle with you, carry it consistently out, and affirm that the series of antecedents and consequents (as we now find it) must be regarded as eternal, because creation would do what a miracle is supposed to do, and a miracle, you know, is impossible. You are silent." "I am not able to retract acquiescence in the principle, and I am as little inclined to concede the conclusions you would draw from it." "As you please; only, in the latter case, provide me with an answer. If you saw now introduced on the earth for the first time a being as unlike than as man is unlike the other animals,--say with seven senses, wings on his shoulders, a pair of eyes behind his head as well as in front of it, and the tail of a peacock, by way of finishing him off handsomely,--would you not call such a phenomenon a miracle?" "I think I should," said Fellowes, laughing. "And if the creature died, leaving no issue, would you continue to call it so?" "Yes." "But if you found that he was the head of a race, as man was, and a whole nation of such monsters springing from him, then would you say that this wonderful intrusion into the sphere of our experience was no miracle, but that it was merely according to law?" "I should." "Verily, my dear friend, I am afraid the world will laugh at us for making such fantastical distinctions. This infraction of 'established sequences' ceases to be miraculous, if the wonder is perpetuated and sufficiently multiplied! Meantime, what becomes of the prodigy during the time in which it is uncertain whether any thing will come of it or not? You will say, I suppose, (the interpolation in the 'series' of phenomena being just what I have supposed,) that it is uncertain whether it is to be regarded as miraculous or not, till we know whether it is to be repealed or not." "I think I must, if I adhere to the principle I am now defending." "Very well; only in the mean time you are in the ludicrous position of facing a phenomenon of which you do not know whether you will call it a miracle or not,--the contingency, meantime, on which it is to be decided, not at all, as I contend, affecting the matter; since you allow that it is the infraction of the previously established order of sequences, as known to uniform experience, which constitutes a miracle! If so, I must maintain that the creation of man was, for the same reasons, of the essence of a miracle. You seem to think there is no objection to the admission of miracles, provided they are astounding and numerous enough; or provided they are a long time about, instead of being instantaneously wrought. I must remind you, that to the principle of our argument these things are quite immaterial. Whether the revolution by which the established order of sequences is absolutely infringed,--the face of the universe or of our globe transformed, or an entirely new race (as, for example, man) originated,--I say, whether such change be produced slowly or quickly is of no consequence in the world to our argument. It is whether or not a series of phenomena be produced as absolutely transcending the sphere of all experience, as those events we admit to be impossible, called 'miracles.' That the introduction of man upon the earth for the first time (for you will not allow his race eternal), or the origination of a sun, is not at all to be reckoned as transcending that experience, I cannot understand. Nor can I understand it a bit better by your saying that it, is in conformity with the vague something you are pleased to call a law. It is a safe phrase, however; for as neither you nor any one else can interpret it, no one can refute you. This law is a most convenient thing! It repeals, it appears to me, all other laws,--even those of logic. Perhaps would be better to say that miracles are no miracles when they are 'lawful' miracles. No! let us keep our principle intact from all such dangerous admissions as these. In that way only are we safe." "Safe do you call it? I see not how, if we carry out this principle in the way and to the extent you propose, we can reply to the atheist or to the pantheist, who tells us that the universe is but an eternal evolution of phenomena in one infinite series, or in an eternal recurrence of finite cycles." "And what is that to you or me? How can we help our principle (if we are to hold it at all) leading to some such conclusion? We are, I presume, anxious to know the truth. You see that Strauss, who is the most strenuous assertor of the impossibility of miracles, is also a pantheist. I know not whether you may not become one yourself." "Never," said Fellowes, vehemently; "never, I trust, shall I yield to that 'desolating pantheism' (as worthy Mr. Newman calls it) which is now so rife." "I think Mr. Newman's principles ought to guide you thither. You seem to hold fast by his skirts at present; but I very much doubt whether you have yet reached the termination of your career. You have, you must admit, made advances quite as extraordinary before. "We shall see.--But I suppose you have reached the end of the objections which your wayward scepticism suggests against a conclusion which we both admit; or have you any more?" "O, plenty; and amongst the rest, I am afraid we must admit--whether we admit or not your expedient of law--a miracle, or something indistinguishable from it, as involved in the creation and preservation of the first man,--since you will have a first man." "What do you mean?" "I mean, that supposing the creation of man to be no miracle, because he entered by law; or that that first fact (which would otherwise be miraculous) is not such, simply because it is the first of a series of such facts,--I should like to see whether we have not even then to deal with a miracle, or a fact as absolutely unique; and which was not connected with any series of similar facts." "I think you would find it very hard to prove it." "Nous verrons. I am sure we shall not disagree as to the fact that man, however he came into the world, sooner or later, by ordinary or extraordinary methods, by some lawful wedlock of nature, or by some miracle which is not 'lawful,' is endowed by nature with various faculties and susceptibilities." "Certainly," said Fellowes, laughing; "if you demand my assent to nothing more than that, I shall easily admit your premises and deny your conclusion." "You will also admit, I think, that the process by which man comes to the use of these faculties, and powers, and so forth, is very gradual?" "Assuredly." "And will you not also admit that the development and command of these is something very different from the, potentialities themselves, as my uncle here would call them?--that, for example, we have the faculty of vision; but that the art of seeing involves a slow laborious process, acquired not without the concurrent exercise of other senses: and that the apparatus for walking is perfect even in an infant; but that the art of walking is, in fact, a wonderful acquisition: further, that the command given us by these faculties, as actually exercised, is immensely greater than would be conferred by each alone. In one word, you will allow that man, when he comes to the use of his faculties, is, as has been well said, a bundle of habits, or, as Burke puts it, is a creature who, to a great extent, has the making of himself." "I am much at my ease," said Fellowes; "I shall not dispute any of these premises either." "And will you not also admit that, as man comes into the world now, a long time is required for this development; and that during that time he is absolutely dependent on the care of those who have already in their turn required similar care?" "Seeing that we have had fathers and mothers,--as I suppose our grandfathers and grandmothers also had,--there can be as little doubt of this as of the preceding points," said Fellowes, rather condescendingly. "And that many of the functions which thus task their care are necessary for our existence, and for any chance of our being able to develop into men." "I think so, of course." "So that, if an infant were exposed on a mountain-side or forest, you would have no doubt he would perish (unless it pleased some kind-hearted wolf to suckle him) before he could come to the use of his faculties, and develop them by exercise." "I think," said the other, "your premises perfectly innocent; I shall not contest them." "A little further." said Harrington, "we may go together; and then, if I mistake not, you will pause before you go one step further. This, then, is the normal condition of humanity?" "Yes." "Do you think the first man was like us in these respects?" "I cannot tell." "I dare engage you cannot,--it is a very natural answer. But he either was, I suppose, or was not. That, I think, you will grant me." He assented, though rather reluctantly. "Pray please yourself," said Harrington; "for it is quite immaterial to me which alternative you take. If man was in our condition, then, though the 'lawful miracle' by which he was brought into the world might have made him a baby of six feet high, he would have been no more than a baby still. All that was to constitute him a man,--all those habits by which alone his existence was capable of being preserved,--and without which he must have perished immediately after his creation, in which case you and I should have been spared the necessity of all this discussion on the subject, would have to be learned; and his existence during that time--and a long time it must have been, having no teachers and aids, as we have--must have been preserved by a--miracle. If he were taught by the Creator himself, then we have the miracle in that direction. If he were not brought into the world under the same conditions of development as we are, but with habits ready made,--if, indeed, that be not a contradiction, --then we have a miracle in that direction; if he had his faculties preternaturally quickened and expanded, so as to acquire instantaneously, or possess by instinct, what we acquire by a long and slow process, and not for many years,--then we have a miracle in that direction. If you do not like these suppositions, I see but one other; and that is that; being a baby,--though, as I said, a baby six feet high,--he had an angel nurse sent down expressly to attend him, and to push or wheel him about the walls of paradise in a celestial go-cart. But then I think that in this last particular we shall hardly say that we have got rid of a miracle, though it would doubtless be a miracle of a very ludicrous kind. If you can imagine any other supposition, I shall be glad to hear it." "I acknowledge I can form no supposition on the subject." "Only remember that, if you could, the theory would still suppose man's actual preservation and development effected under totally different conditions from those which have formed the uniform experience of all his posterity; and so far from any subterfuge of a law stepping in, it is a single expedient provided for our first parent alone." "I do not think we are at all in a condition to consider any such case, about which we cannot know any thing," replied Fellowes. "Neither do I; but pardon me,--the question I asked does not depend upon any such knowledge; it is a question which is wholly independent whether of our ignorance or our knowledge. Granting, as you do, that man was created, but that it was no miracle, nor any thing analogous to one (as you say), still either he was created subject to our conditions of development and preservation, or he was not; if he was not, then I fear we have in form the miracle we wish to evade; if he was, then I fear also that there are but the three imaginable modes of obviating the difficulty which I have so liberally provided; and supposing there were a thousand. I fear still that they all involve a departure from the 'uniform course of Nature.'" "But I do not see," replied Fellowes, "that it is absolutely necessary, supposing that the first man was thrown upon the green of paradise." "Or in a forest, or on a moor," said Harrington, "for you know nothing of paradise." "Well, then, in a forest, or on a moor;--I say if man were cast out there, the same helpless being which all his posterity are,--unfortified, as the lower animals are, by feathers or hair, or by instincts equal to theirs,--who can affirm that it was beyond the possibilities of his nature, that he might survive this cruel experiment? crawl, perhaps, for an indefinite period on all fours, live on berries, and at last--by very slow degrees doubtless, but still at last--emerge into---" "The dignity of a savage," cried Harrington, "as the first step towards something better,--his Creator having beneficently created him something infinitely worse! Surely, you must be returning to a savage yourself, even to hint at such a pedigree. But I have done: till those cases of which certain philosophers have said so much have been authenticated; till you can produce an instance of a new-born babe, exposed on a mountain-side, in all the helplessness of his natal hour, and self-preserved,--nay, two of them,--for you must at least have a pair of these 'babes in the wood'; and till, moreover, it can be shown that they would have survived this experiment so as to preserve the characteristics of humanity a little better than the 'wild boy of Germany,' and were fit to be the heads of the human family,--I shall at times be strangely tempted to embrace any theory as infinitely more probable. I cannot think it was in this way that our first parents made their entree into the world. I hope not, for the credit of the Creator, as well as for the happiness of his offspring. Of the moral bearings of such a brutal theory, I say nothing; but if it can be true, all I can say is, that I am glad that you and I, my dear Fellowes, are not the immediate children but so fortunate as to be only the great-great --great-great-grandchildren of God! You have well called it a 'cruel experiment'; according to this, the first Father of all thrust forth his children into the world to be for an indefinite time worse than the beasts, who were carefully provided against miserable man's inconveniences! Certainly, I think you may alter the account of man's creation given in Genesis, to great advantage. Instead of God's saying, 'Let us create man in our image, he must be supposed to have said, 'Let us create man in the image of a BEAST: and in the image of a BEAST created he him, male and female created he them'; and very imperfect beasts they must have been, after all. This is that old savage theory which I had supposed was pretty well abandoned. If the necessity of denying miracles imposes any necessity of believing that, I fear that I shall sooner be got to believe a thousand." "Well," said Fellowes, who seemed ashamed of this theory, but knew not how to abandon it; "I cannot believe there have been any miracles, and, what is more, I will not." "That is perhaps the best reason you have given yet," said Harrington. "The Will is indeed your only irresistible logician. You are one degree, at all events, better off than I, for I can hardly say either that I believe, or that I do not believe, in miracles." "And yet," continued Harrington, after a pause, "two or three other strange consequences seem to follow from that seemingly undeniable principle on which we base the conclusion that there neither has been nor can be any such thing as a miracle: in other words, a departure from the established series of sequences which, as tested by our own experience and by that of other men, we are convinced is stable. Will you see with me whether there is any fair mode of escaping from them? I should be very glad if I could do so." "What are they?" "Why, first, I am afraid it must be said, that we must entirely justify a man in the condition of the Eastern prince mentioned by Hume, who could not be induced to believe that there was such a thing as ice. I am afraid that he was quite in the right; and yet we know that in fact he was wrong." "You are not, then, satisfied with Hume's own solution?" "So far from it, that I cannot see, upon the principles on which we refuse to believe miracles, that it is even intelligible. We agree, do we not, that, from the experience we have (and, so far as we can ascertain, from every body else's) of the uniform course of events, of the established order of sequences, we are to reject any assertion of a violation of those sequences; as, for example, of a man's coming into the world in any preternatural manner, or, when he has once gone out of it, coming into it again; and that we are entitled to do this without any examination of the witnesses to any such fact, merely on the strength of the principles aforesaid?" "I admit that we have agreed to this." "Now was not the assertion that in a certain quarter of the world water became solid as stone, could be cut into pieces, and be put into one's pockets, contrary, in a similar manner, to all the phenomena which the said prince had witnessed, and also to the uniform experience of all about him from his earliest years?" "It certainly was." "He was right, then, in rejecting the fact; that is, he was right in rejecting the possibility of such an occurrence," said Harrington. "But did we not ourselves say, with Hume, that, as we see that there is not an absolute uniformity in the phenomena of nature, but that they are varied within certain limits in different climates and countries, so it does not become us to say that a phenomenon, though somewhat variable, is a violation of the usual order of sequences?" "We did; but we also agreed, I think, that those variations were to be within invariable limits, as tested by the whole of our experience; we did not include within those variations what is diametrically contrary (as in the present case) to all our own experience and that of every body about us. If it is to extend to such variations, what do we say but this,--that the order of nature is uniform and invariable, except where--it is the reverse? and, as it seems it sometimes is so, see what comes of the admission. A man asserts the reality of a miracle which you reject at once as simply impossible, as contrary to your experience and that of every one whose experience you can test. It will be easy for him to say, and upon Hume's evasion he will say, that it was performed, for aught you know, under conditions so totally different from those which ordinarily obtain in relation to the same order of events, that you are no adequate judge as to whether it was possible or not. He acknowledges that a miracle is a very rare occurrence; that it is performed for special ends; is strictly limited to time and place, like those phenomena the Indian prince was asked to believe; and that your experience cannot embrace it, nor is warranted in pronouncing upon it. I really fear that, if our incredulous prince is to be condemned, our principle will be ruined. I am anxious for his safe deliverance, I assure you." "Still I cannot see that we can deny that phenomena may be manifested, in virtue of the laws of nature, totally different from those which we have ever seen or heard of." "What! so different that the phenomena in question shall be a total departure from that order of nature of which alone we and all about us are cognizant; in fact, all but the one man, who tells us the strange thing, we being at the same time totally incapable of testing his experience?" "Yes," said Fellowes; "I must grant it." "I see," said Harrington, "you are bent on the destruction of our criterion. Do you not perceive that, if our experience and that of the immense majority, or of all about us, be not a sufficient criterion of the laws of nature, our argument falls to the ground? 'Your principle,' our adversaries will say, 'is a fallacious one; Nature has her laws, no doubt, which apply to miracles as to every other phenomenon; but in assuming your experience to be a sufficient criterion of these laws, you have been, not interpreting her laws, but imposing upon her your own.' If unknown powers of nature may thus reverse our experience and the experience of all those whose experience, under the given conditions, we have opportunities of testing, we ought to abstain from saying that some unknown powers may not also have wrought miracles. Let us then affirm consistently the sufficiency of our criterion; and the prince aforesaid must do the same; and it warranted him, I say, in believing that there neither was nor could be such a thing as ice." "But this seems ridiculous," said Fellowes; "for according to this, different and opposite experiences may, in different places give different or opposite measures of the laws of nature; which nevertheless are supposed to be invariably the same, or invariably the limits certified by that experience." "I cannot help it; upon that same experience we must believe it true that there are no miracles, and our unbelieving prince, that there could be no such thing as ice; for to him it was a miracle. If we do not reason thus, may we not be compelled to admit that our uniform experience, with its limited variations, is no rule at all, and that there are cases for which it makes no provision? and may not the advocate for miracles say that miracles are amongst them? No, let us adhere to our principle, and adhering to it, I wish to know whether the prince in question was not quite right in saying that there neither was nor could be such a thing as ice; for the assertion that there was, was contrary to all his experience and to that of every soul about him." "I must say, that, if we look only to the principle of this uniform experience, he was right." "But he rejected the truth." "He certainly did." "And he was right in rejecting the truth?" "Certainly, upon your principle." "Upon my principle! Do not say upon my principle, unless you mean to deny that you too embrace it; if you give up that principle, you lay yourself open at once to the retort that your position is insecure; that you have taken your experience as a sufficient criterion of the possibilities of events, when it is in fact merely a measure of such as have fallen under your own observation." "Perhaps," said Fellowes, "I should say that the prince in question was justified at first in rejecting the fact, but that when he found other men, whose veracity he could not suspect, coming from the same regions of the world, and affirming the same phenomenon, it was his business to correct his experience, and to admit that the fact was so." "I am surprised to hear you say so; you are again ruining our principle. Do you admit that the assertion that there was a place on earth at which water in large quantities became solid, was apparently as great a violation of all the experience of this man, as what is ordinarily called a miracle is of ours?" "I cannot deny that it was so." "But yet you think, that, though justified in disbelieving it at first, he would not be so when others, whose veracity and motives he had no reason to suspect, told him the same tale?" "Yes." "Why, then, is not this plainly to make a belief of such events depend upon testimony, and do we not give up altogether our sufficient principle of rejection of all such testimony? You are yielding, without doubt, the principle of our opponents, who affirm that there is no event so improbable that a certain combination of testimony would not be sufficient to warrant your reception of it; because, as they say, that testimony might be given under such circumstances,--so variously certified, and so above suspicion,--that it would be more improbable that the statement to which it applied (however strange) should be false, than that the testimony should not be true; in other words, that the falsehood of the testimony would be the greater miracle of the two. And they say this, because (as they assert) the uniform experience on which we found our objection to any miraculous narrative is no less applicable to the world of mind than to the world of matter; that there is not indeed an absolute uniformity of experience in the former, as neither is there in the latter; but neither in one nor in the other is there any absolute bouleversement of the principles and constitution of nature; which, they say, would be implied, if under all conceivable circumstances testimony might prove false. And yet now you seem to admit the very thing for which they contend; and in contending for it, you give up your case. Doing so, you certainly get rid of the paradoxical conclusions which my wretched scepticism sometimes suggests to me, as throwing a doubt on the integrity of our principle. I say your admission gets rid of it; but then it is with the ruin of the principle itself." "What was that paradox?" "It is this; that, if we adhere to our principle, we must deny that any amount of testimony is sufficient to warrant the belief of a miracle." "That is what we do maintain." "I thought so; but you seem to me to have hastily given it up. Let us then again maintain that our prince, in denying what was a miracle to him, was not only consistent in saying that it could not be, when first asserted to him, but also when last asserted; and died an orthodox infidel in the possibility of ice, or an orthodox believer in the eternal fluidity of water, whichever you prefer to consider it." "Well, and what then?" "Why, then, let us act upon our principle with equal consistency in other cases; for you say that there is no amount or complexity of evidence which would induce you to believe in a miracle." "I do." "Let us suppose it was asserted that a man known to have been dead and buried had risen again, and, after having been seen by many, had at last, in presence of a multitude, on a clear day, ascended to heaven through the calm sky, without artificial wings or balloon, or any such thing; that he was seen to pass out of sight of the gazing crowd, who watched and watched in vain for his return; and that he had never more been seen. Let us suppose that the witnesses who saw this constantly affirmed it; that amongst them were many known to you, whose veracity you had no reason to suspect, and who had no imaginable motive to deceive you; let us suppose further, that they persisted in affirming this, in spite of all contumely and contempt, insult and wrong, amidst threats of persecution, and persecution itself; lastly, let there be amongst them many, who before this event had been as strenuous assertors of the impossibility of a miracle as yourself. I want to know whether you would believe this story, thus authenticated, or not?" "But it is, I think, unfair to put any such case; for there never was such an event so authenticated." "It is quite sufficient to test our principle, that you can imagine such testimony. If that principle is sound, it is plain that it will apply to all imaginable degrees of testimony, as well as to all actual. No testimony, you say, can establish a miracle. This is true or not. If you admit that there are any degrees in this matter, you come at last to the old argument, which you abjure; namely, that whether a miraculous event has taken place or not depends on the degree of evidence with which it is substantiated, and that must be the result of a certain investigation of it in the particular alleged case. You remember the story of the ring of Gyges, which made the wearer invisible. Plato tells us how a man ought to act, and how a good man would act, if he had such a ring. Cicero tells us how absurd it would be to reply to his reasoning (as one did), by saying that there never was such a ring. It was not necessary to the force of the illustration that there should be such a ring. So neither is it necessary to my argument there should be such testimony as I have supposed, to enable us to see whether we are prepared to admit the truth of your principle that no evidence can establish a miracle. Once more, then, I ask you whether, on supposition of such testimony, you would reject the supposed fact or not?" "Well, then, I should say, that, since no testimony can establish a miracle, I should reject it." "Bravo, Fellowes! I do of all things like to see an unflinching regard to a principle, when once laid down." "But would not you also reject it, upon the same principle?" "Of course I should, if the principle be true; but ah! my friend, pardon me for acknowledging my infirmities; my miserable scepticism tosses me to and fro. I have not your strength of will; and I fear that the rejection in such a case would cost me many qualms and doubts. Such is the infirmity of our nature, and so much may be said on all sides! And I fear that I should be more likely to have these uneasy thoughts, inasmuch as I fancy I see a difficult dilemma (I but now referred to it), which would be proposed to us by some keen-sighted opponent,--I say not with justice,--who would endeavor to show that we had abandoned our principle in the very attempt to maintain it; that the bow from which we were about to launch so fatal an arrow at the enemy had broken in our hands, and left us defenceless." "What dilemma do you refer to?" said Fellowes. "I think such an adversary might perhaps say: 'That same uniform experience on which you justify the rejection of all miracles,--does it extend only to one part of nature, to the physical and material only, or to the mental and spiritual also?' In other words, if there were such things as miracles at all, might there be miracles in connection with mind as well as in connection with matter? What would you say?" "What can I say, but what Hume himself says, so truly and so beautifully, in his essay on 'Necessary Connection,' and 'On Liberty and Necessity'; namely, that there is a uniformity in both the moral and physical world, and that nature does not transgress certain limits in either the one or the other'? You must remember that he says so?" "I do," said Harrington. "Now, I am afraid our astute adversary would say that such a complication of false testimony as we have supposed would itself be a flagrant violation of the established series of sequences, on which, as applied to the physical world, we justify the rejection of all miracles; that we have got rid of a miracle by admitting a miracle; and that our uniform experience has broken down with us." "But again I say, there never was such a case of testimony," urged Fellowes. "I wish this could help us; but it plainly will not; because we have concluded that, if there were such testimony, we must believe it false, and therefore should admit that the miracle of its falsehood was, in that case, necessary to be believed; not to say that there has been, in the opinion of millions, testimony often given to miracles, which, if false, does imply that the laws of human nature must have been turned topsy-turvy,--and I, for my part, know not how to disprove it. If, in such cases, the testimony, the falsity of which would be a miracle, is not to be rejected, then we must admit that the miracle which it supports is true. I must leave it there." said Harrington, with an air of comic resignation; "I cannot answer for any thing except that you may reject both miracles alternatively, if that will be any comfort to you, without being able to disbelieve simultaneously. If you believe the testimony false, you must believe the alleged miracle false; but you will have then the moral miracle to believe. If you believe the testimony true, you will then believe the physical miracle true. Perhaps the best way will be to believe both alternately in rapid succession; and you will then hardly perceive the difficulty at all!" There was here a brief pause. Harrington suddenly resumed. "These are very perplexing considerations. One thing, I confess, has often puzzled me much; and that is,--what should we do, in what state of mind should we be, if we did see a miracle?" "Of what use is the discussion of such a particular case, when you know it is impossible that we should ever see it realized?" replied Fellowes. "Of course it is; just as it is impossible that we should ever see levers perfectly inflexible, or cords perfectly flexible. Nevertheless, it is perfectly possible to entertain such a hypothetical case, and to reason with great conclusiveness on the consequences of such a supposition; and in the same way we can imagine that we have seen a miracle; and what then?" "Why, if we were to see one, of course seeing is believing. We must give up our principle," said Fellowes, laughing. "Do you think so? I think we should be very foolish then. How can we be sure that we have seen it? Can it appeal to any thing stronger than senses, and have not our senses often beguiled us?" Must we not rather abide by that general induction from the evidence to which our ordinary experience points us? In other words, ought we not to adhere to the great principle we have already laid down, that a miracle is impossible?" "But, according to this, if we err in that principle, and God were to work a miracle for the very purpose of convincing us, it would be impossible for him to attain his purpose." "I think it would, my friend, I confess; just for the reason that, since we believe a miracle to be impossible, we must believe it impossible for even God to work one; and therefore, if we are mistaken, and it is possible for him to work one, it is still impossible that he should convince us of it." "I really know not how to go that length." "Why not? You acknowledge that your senses have deceived you; you know that they have deceived others; and it is on that very ground that you dispose of very many cases of supposed miracles which you are not willing, or are not able, to resolve otherwise. If I believe, then, that a miracle is impossible, I must admit that, if I err in that, it is still impossible for God himself to convince me of it." Fellowes looked grave, but said nothing. "And do you know," said Harrington, "I have sometimes thought that Hume, so far from representing his argument from 'Transubstantiation' fairly, (there is an obvious fallacy on the very face of it, to which I do not now allude,) is himself precisely in the condition in which he represents the believer in miracles?" Fellowes smiled incredulously. "First, however," said he, "what is the more notorious fallacy to which you allude?" "It is so barefaced an assumption, that I am surprised that his acuteness did not see it; or that, if he saw it, he could have descended to make a point by appearing not to see it. It has been often pointed out, and you will recollect it the moment I name it. You know he commences with the well-known argument of Tillotson against Transubstantiation and flatters himself that he sees a similar argument in relation to miracles. Now it certainly requires but a moderate degree of sagacity to see that the very point in which Tillotson's argument tells, is that very one in which Hume's is totally unlike it. Tillotson says, that when it is pretended that the bread and wine which are submitted to his own senses have been 'transubstantiated into flesh and blood,' the alleged phenomena contradict his senses; and that as the information of his senses as much comes from God as the doctrines of Scripture (and even the miracles of Scripture appeal to nothing stronger), he must believe his senses in this case in preference to the assertions of the priest. Hume then goes on quietly to take it for granted that the miracles to which consent is asked in like manner contradict the testimony of the senses of him to whom they appeal is made; whereas, in fact, the assertor of the miracles does not pretend that he who denies them has ever seen them, or had the opportunity of seeing them. To make the argument analogous, it ought to be shown that the objector, having been a spectator of the pretended miracles, when and where they were affirmed to have been wrought, had then and there the testimony of his senses that no such events had taken place. It is mere juggling with words to say that never to have seen a like event is the same argument of an event's never having occurred, as never to have seen that event when it was alleged to have taken place under our very eyes!" "I give up the reasoning on this point," said Fellowes, "but how, I should like to know, do you retort the argument upon him?" "Thus; you see that we maintain that a miracle is incredible per se, because impossible; not to be believed, therefore, on any evidence." "Certainly." "If, then, we saw what seemed a miracle, we should distrust our senses; we should say that it was most likely that they deceived us. Hear what Voltaire says in one of his letters to D'Alembert: 'Je persiste a penser que cent mille hommes qui ont vu ressusciter un mort, pourraient bien etre cent mille hommes qui auraient la berlue.' And what he says of their bad eyes, there is no doubt he would say of his own, if he had been one of the hundred thousand." "I think so, certainly." "And Strauss, and Hume, and Voltaire, and you and I, and all who hold a miracle impossible, would distrust our senses, and fall back upon that testimony from the general experience of others, which alone could correct our own halting and ambiguous experience." "Certainly." "It appears, then, my good fellow, that the position of those who deny and those who assert miracles is exactly the reverse of Hume's statement. The man who believes 'Transubstantiation' distrusts his senses, and rather believes testimony: and even so would he who has fully made up his mind, on our sublime principle as to the impossibility of miracles, when any thing which has that appearance crosses his path; he is prepared to deny his senses and to trust to testimony,--to that general experience of others which comes to him, and can come to him, only in that shape. It is we, therefore, and not our adversaries, who are liable to be reached by this unlucky illustration." Fellowes himself seemed much amused by finding the tables thus turned. For my part, I had difficulty in repressing a chuckle over this display of sceptical candor and subtilty. "There is perhaps another paradox which may be as well mentioned," resumed Harrington. "It is a little trying to my scepticism, but perhaps will not be to your faith. I mean this. We are constrained to believe from our 'uniform-experience' criterion that no miracle has ever occurred, or ever will; in short, it is, as we say, impossible. Now the principle which undoubtedly leads us to the conclusion we may regard as a principle of our nature, if ever there was one; that is, we are so constituted as to infer the perpetual uniformity of certain sequences of phenomena from our observation of that uniformity." "Assuredly." "And as all mankind obviously act upon that same principle in most cases, and we believe that it is part of the very uniformity in question that human nature is radically the same in all ages and in all countries, I think we ought to conclude that it is not you and I only, but at all events the vast majority of mankind, who have maintained the impossibility of miracles." "We ought to be able to conclude so," said Fellowes, "but it is very far from being the case. So far from it, that nothing can be plainer than that miraculous legends have been most greedily taken up by the vast majority of mankind, and have made a very common part of almost every form of religion." "Men do not then, it appears, in this instance, at all regard the uniform tenor of their experience; so that it is a part of our uniform experience, that mankind disregard and disbelieve the lessons of their uniform experience. This is almost a miracle of itself; at all events, a curious paradox; but one which we must not stay to examine: though I confess it leads to one other humiliating conclusion,--a little corollary, which I think it is not unimportant to mark; and that is, that we can never expect these enlightened views of ours to spread amongst the mass of mankind." "Nay, I cannot agree with you. I hope far other wise, and far better for the human race." "But will the result not contradict your uniform experience, if your hopes be realized? Is not your experience sufficiently long and sufficiently varied to show that the belief of miracles and all sorts of prodigies is the normal condition of mankind, and that it is only a comparatively few who can discern that uniform experience justifies man in believing that no miracle is possible? While it teaches us that a miracle is impossible does it not also teach us that, though none is possible, it is nevertheless impossible that they should not be generally believed? Is not this taught us as plainly by our uniform experience as any thing else? See how fairly Hume admits this at the commencement of his Essay on Miracles. He says, 'I flatter myself that I have discovered an argument which, if just, will, with the wise and learned, be an everlasting check to all kinds of superstitious delusion, and consequently will be useful as long as the world endures. For so long, I presume, will the accounts of miracles and prodigies be found in all histories, sacred and profane.' Thus are we led to the conclusion, that, though miracles never can be real, they will nevertheless be always believed; and that, though the truth is with us, it never can be established in the minds of men in general. And, my dear friend, let us be thankful that it never can; for if it could, that fact would have proved the possibility of miracles by contradicting one of those very deductions from uniform experience on the validity of which their impossibility is demonstrated. "These are some of the perplexities," continued Harrington, "which, as Theaetetus says, sometimes make 'My head dizzy,' when I revolve the subject. Meantime, surely a nobler spectacle can hardly present itself than our fairly abiding by our principle, amidst so many plausible difficulties as assail it. I know no one principle in theology or philosophy which has been so battered as that of Hume. Not only Campbell, Paley, and so many more, confidently affirm errors in it,--such as his assuming individual or general experience to be universal; his quietly attributing to individual experience a belief of facts which are believed by the vast mass of mankind on testimony, and nothing else; his representing the experience of a man who says he has seen a certain event as 'contrary' to the experience of him who says he has not seen a similar one; his implying that no amount of testimony can establish a miracle, which might compel us to believe moral miracles to get rid of physical miracles; I say not only so, but the most recent investigators of the theory of evidence cruelly abandon him. The argument of Hume and Paley, says De Morgan, in his treatise on Probabilities, (Encyclopaedia Metropolitana: Theory of Probabilities, 182.) is a 'fallacy answered by fallacies,'--meaning by this last that Paley had conceded to his opponent more than he ought to have done. With similar vexatious opposition, Mr. J. S. Mill says, that, to make any alleged fact contradictory to a law of causation, 'the allegation must be that this happened in the absence of any adequate counteracting cause. Now, in the case of an alleged miracle, the assertion is the exact opposite of this.' He says, 'that all which Hume has made out is, that no evidence can prove a miracle to any one who did not previously believe the existence of a being or beings with supernatural power; or who believed himself to have full proof that the character'(System of Logic, Vol. II. pp. 186, 187.) of such being or beings is inconsistent with such an interference; that is, the argument could have no force unless either a man believed there were no God at all, or the objector happened to be something like a God himself! And now, lastly, I have shown that the predicament of Hume, and Voltaire, and Strauss, and you and myself (if consistent), is just the reverse of that in which the argument from Transubstantiation represents it. But never mind; so much more glory is due to us for abiding by our principle. I begin almost to think that I am arriving at that transcendental 'faith' which you admire so much, and which is totally independent of logic and argument, and all 'intellectual processes whatever.'" ____ July 23. I this day read to Mr. Fellowes the paper I had promised a week or two before, and which I had entitled, AN EXTERNAL REVELATION, EVEN OF ELEMENTARY "SPIRITUAL AND MORAL TRUTHS" VERY POSSIBLE, AND VERY USEFUL; AND IN ANALOGY WITH THE CONDITIONS OF HUMAN DEVELOPMENT, WHETHER IN THE INDIVIDUAL OR THE SPECIES. It is Necessary to observe in the outset, that, even if I were to grant your proposition, "that a revelation of moral and spiritual truth is impossible,"--understanding by such "truth" what you seem to mean, the truth which "Natural Religion," as it is called, has recognized in some shape or other (for it has varied not a little),--it would leave the chief reasons for imparting an external revelation just where they were. I, at least, should never contend that the sole or even chief object of an external revelation is to impart elementary moral or spiritual truth, however possible I may deem it. On the contrary, I am fully persuaded that the great purpose for which such a revelation has been given is to communicate facts and truths many of which were quite transcendental to the human faculties; which man would never have discovered, and most of which he would never have surmised. All this your favorite Mr. Newman perceived in his earlier days clearly enough, and has recorded his sentiments held at that period in his "Phases."(p.42) If I were to grant you, therefore, your proposition, it would leave the question of an external revelation untouched; your hasty inference from it, that every book-revelation is to be rejected, is perfectly gratuitous. But I am thoroughly persuaded that the notion of the impossibility of all external revelation of moral and spiritual truth, even of the elementary form already referred to, is a fallacy. Whether the religious faculty in men be a simple faculty, or (as Sir James Mackintosh seemed to think might possibly be the case with conscience) a complex one, constituted by means of several different powers and principles of our nature, is a question not essential to the argument; for I frankly admit at once, with Mr. Newman and Mr. Parker, that there is such a susceptibility (simple or complex), and not a mere abortive tendency, as Harrington seems to suppose possible. Otherwise I cannot, I confess, account for the fact (so largely insisted upon by Mr. Parker) of the very general, the all but universal, adoption by man of some religion, and the power, the prodigious power, which, even when false, hideously false, it exerts over him. But then I must as frankly confess, that I can as little account for all the (not only terrible but) uniform aberrations of this susceptibility, on which Harrington has insisted, and which, I do think, prove (if ever truth was proved by induction) one of two things; either that, as he says, this susceptibility in man was originally defective and rudimentary, or that man is no longer in his normal state; in other words, that he is, as the Scriptures declare, depraved. I acknowledge I accept this last solution; and firmly believe with Pascal, that without it moral and religious philosophy must toil over the problem of humanity in vain. If this be so, we have, of course, no difficulty in believing that there may be, in spite of the existence of the religious faculty in man, ample scope for an external revelation, to correct its aberrations and remedy its maladies. But you will say that this fact is not to be taken for granted. I admit it; and therefore lay no further stress upon it. I go one step further; and shall endeavor, at least, to prove, that, supposing man is just as he was created, yet also supposing, what neither Mr. Parker nor Mr. Newman will deny, (and if they did, the whole history of the world would confute them,) that man's religious faculty is not uniform or determinate in its action, but is dependent on external development and culture for assuming the form it does, ample scope is still left for an external revelation. I contend that the entire condition of this susceptibility (as shown by experience) proves that, if in truth an external revelation be impossible, it is not because it has superseded the necessity for one; and that the declaration of the elder deists and modern "spiritualists" on this in the face of what all history proves man to be, is the most preposterous in the world. Further; I contend that all the analogies from the fundamental laws of the development of man's nature,--from a consideration of the relations in which that nature stands to the external world,--from the absolute dependence of the individual on external culture, and that of the whole species on its historic development,--are all in favor of the notion both of the possibility and utility of an external revelation, and even in favor of that particular form of it which Mr. Newman and you so contemptuously call a "book" revelation. I. I argue from all the analogies of the fundamental laws of the development of the human mind. Nor do I fear to apply the reasoning even to the cases in which it has been so confidently asserted that there can be no revelation, on the fallacious ground that a revelation "of spiritual and moral truth" presupposes in man certain principles to which it appeals. To possess certain faculties for the appreciation of spiritual and moral truth is one thing; to acquire the conscious possession of that truth is another; the former fact would not make an external revelation superfluous, or an empty name. Every thing in the process of the mind's development goes to show, that, whatever its capacities, tendencies, faculties, "potentialities," (call them what you will,) a certain external influence is necessary to awaken its dormant life; to turn a "potentiality" into an "energy "; to transform a dim inkling of a truth into an intelligent, vital, conscious recognition of it. Nor is this law confined to mind alone; all nature attests its presence. All effects are the result of properties or susceptibilities in one thing, solicited by external contact with those of others. The fire no doubt may smoulder in the dull and languid embers; it is when the external breeze sweeps over them, that they begin to sparkle and glow, and vindicate the vital element they contain. The diamond in the mine has the same internal properties in the darkness as in the light; it is not till the sun shines upon it, that it flashes on the eye its splendor. Look at a flower of any particular species; we see that, as it is developed in connection with a variety of external influences,--as it comes successively under the action of the sun, rain, dew, soil,--it expands in a particular manner, and in that only. It exhibits a certain configuration of parts, a certain form of leaf, a certain color, fragrance, and no other. We do not doubt, on the one hand, that without the "skyey influences" these things would never have been; nor, on the other; that the flower assumes this form of development, and this alone, in virtue of its internal structure and organization. But both sets of conditions must conspire in the result. It is much the same with the mind. That it possesses certain tendencies and faculties, which, as it develops itself, will terminate in certain ideas and sentiments, is admitted; but apart from certain external conditions of development, those sentiments and ideas will, in effect, never be formed,--the mind will be in perpetual slumber. Thus, in point of fact, this controversy is connected ultimately with that ancient dispute as to the origin, sources, and genesis of human knowledge and sentiments. I shall simply take for granted that you are (as most philosophers are) an advocate of innate capacities, but not of "innate ideas"; of "innate susceptibilities," but not of "innate sentiments"; that is, I presume you do not contend that the mind possesses more than the faculties--the laws of thought and feeling--which, under conditions of development, actually give birth to thoughts and feelings. These faculties and susceptibilities are, no doubt, congenital with the mind, --or, rather, are the mind itself. But its actually manifested phenomena wait the of the external; and they will be modified accordingly. It is absolutely dependent on experience in this sense, that it is only as it is operated upon by the outward world that the dormant faculties, whatever they are, and whatever their nature, be they few or many,-- intellectual, moral, or spiritual,--are first awakened. If a mind were created (it is, at least, a conceivable case) with all the avenues to the external world closed,--in fact, we sometimes see approximations to such a condition in certain unhappy individuals,--we do not doubt such a mind, by the present laws of the human constitution, could not possess any thoughts, feelings, emotions; in fact, could exhibit none of the phenomena, spiritual, intellectual, moral, or sensational, which diversify it. In proportion as we see human beings approach this condition,--in fact, we sometimes see them approach it very nearly,--we see the "potentialities" of the soul (I do not like the word, but it expresses my meaning better than any other I know) held in abeyance, and such an imperfectly awakened man does not, in some cases, manifest the degree of sensibility or intelligence manifested in many animals. If the seclusion from sense and experience be quite complete, the life of such a soul would be wrapped up in the germ, and possess no more consciousness than a vegetable. It appears, then, that universally, however true it may be, and doubtless is, that the laws of thought and feeling enable us to derive from external influence what it alone would never give, yet that influences an indispensable condition, as we are at present constituted, of the development of any and of all our faculties. As this seems the law of development universally, it is so of the spiritual and religious part of our nature as well as the rest; and in this very fact we have abundant scope for the possibility and utility of a revelation,--if God be pleased to give one,--even of elementary moral and spiritual truth; since, though conceding the perfect congruity between that truth and the structure of the soul, it is only as it is in some way actually presented to it from without, that it arrives at the conscious possession of it. And what, after all, but such an external source of revelation is that Volume of Nature, which, operating in perfect analogy with the aforesaid conditions of the soul's development, awakens, though imperfectly, the dormant elements of religious and spiritual life? So far from its being true in any intelligible sense that an external revelation of moral and spiritual truth is impossible, it is absolutely necessary, in some form, as a condition of its evolution; so far from its being true that such revelation is an absurdity, it is in strict analogy with the fundamental laws of our being. Whether, if this be so, the express external presentation of such truth in a book constructed by divine wisdom and expressed in human language,--this last being the most universal and most appropriate instrument by which man's dormant powers are actually awakened,--may not be a more effective method of attaining the end than any of man's devising, whether instinctive or artificial; or than the casual influences of external nature, well or ill deciphered;--all this is another question. But some such external apparatus--applied to the faculties of men--is essential, whether it be in the Volume of Nature, or in the "Bible" or in a book of Mr. Newman or Mr. Parker. All that makes the difference between you and a Hottentot (to recur to that illustration which Harrington, I really think, fairly employed) depends on external influences, and the consequent development of the spiritual and religious faculties. And this very fact--the unspeakable differences between man and man, nation and nation, as regards recognition the conscious possession of even elementary "moral and spiritual truth" (varying, as it perpetually does, as those external influences vary, and more or less perfect, according as that external "revelation," which, in some degree, and of some species, is indispensable, more or less perfect)--affords another indication of the ample utility of an external divine revelation, as well as of its possibility; and a proof that, if there be one, it is in harmony, again, with the conditions of human nature. And here I may employ, in further illustration, one of the analogies I adverted to a little time ago. Not only is the flower never independent of external influences for its actual development,--not only would it remain in the germ without them,--but we see that within certain limits, often very wide, the kind of external influence operates powerfully on the species, and on the individual itself;--according as it is in one climate or another,--in this soil or that,--submitted to culture or suffered to grow wild. It is needless to apply the analogy. While we see that the moral spiritual faculties of man no more than his other faculties can attain their development except in cooperation with some external influences, we also see that they exhibit every degree and variety of development according to the quality of those external influences. Is there then not even a possibility left for an external revelation? If the actual exhibition of any spiritual and religious phenomena in man not only depends on some external influences and culture, but perpetually varies with them, what would such a revelation be but a provision in analogy with these facts? But it is sufficient to rebut this gratuitous dictum, of an external revelation of "spiritual and moral truth being impossible," that some external influence is necessary for any development of the religious faculty at all. If the last be necessary, I cannot conceive how the other should be impossible. Nor is it any reply to say,--as I think has been abundantly shown in your debates with Harrington,--that any such external influences only make articulate that which already existed inarticulately in the heart; that they only chafe and stimulate into life "the ivory of Pygmalion's statue," to use his expression,--the dormant principles and sentiments which somehow existed, but were in deep slumber. That which makes them vital, active, the objects of consciousness and the sources of power, may well be called a "revelation." Nay, since it seems that, in some way, this outward voice must be heard first, I think it is more properly so called than the internal response of the heart. That is rather the echo. It may be admitted that the elementary truths of religion, once propounded, are promptly admitted, but still in some external shape they require to be propounded. There is such a thing in the human mind as unrealized truth, both intellectual and spiritual; the inarticulate muttering of an obscurely felt sentiment; a vague appetency for something we are not distinctly conscious of. The clear utterance of it, its distinct proposition to us, is the very thing that is often wanted to convert this dim feeling into distinct vision. This is the electric spark which transforms two invisible gases into a visible and transparent fluid; this is the influence which evolves the latent caloric, and makes it a powerful and active element. I cannot help thinking that the great source of fallacy on this subject arises from confounding the idea of certain characteristic tendencies and potentialities of our nature with the supposition,-- contradicted by the whole religious history of man in all ages,--that they must be everywhere efficaciously active, and spontaneously exhibit a moral manifestation; than which there cannot, I conceive, be a greater error. I must entreat you to recollect Harrington's dilemma. Either the supposed truths of your spiritual theory, or that of Mr. Newman or Mr. Parker, are known to all mankind, or not; if they are, surely their books, and every such book is the most important in the world; if not, these authors did well to write, supposing them to have truth on their side; but then that vindicates the possibility and utility of a "book-revelation." II. But I go a step further, and not only contend that, from the very law of the soul's development, there is ample scope for a revelation, even of elementary "moral and spiritual truth," but that even if we supposed all men in actual possession of that truth, in some shape or other, there would still be abundant scope for a divinely constructed external instrument for giving it efficacy; and that this, again, is in perfect analogy with the fundamental condition of the soul's action. The principles of spiritual and religious life are capable in an infinite variety of ways, of being modified, intensified, vivified, by the external influences brought to bear upon them from time to time. Not only must that external influence be exerted for the first awakening of the soul, but it must be continued all our life long, in order to maintain the principles thus elicited in a state of activity. Sometimes they seem for a while to have been half obliterated,--to fade away from the consciousness; they are reillumined, made to blaze out again in brilliant light on the "walls of the chambers of imagery," by some outward stimulus; by a "word spoken in season"; by the recollection of some weighty apothegm which embodies truth,--some ennobling image which illustrates it; by the utterance of certain "charmed words," hallowed by association as they fall on the external sense, or are recalled by memory. How familiar to us all is this dependence on the external! How dull, how sluggish, has often been the soul! A single word, the sight of an object surrounded with vivid associations, the sudden suggestion of a half-forgotten strain of poetry or song,--what power have these to stir its stagnant depths, and awaken "spiritual" and every other species of emotion, as well as intellectual activity! The lightning does not more suddenly cleave the cloud in which it slumbered, the sleeping ocean is not more suddenly ruffled by the descending tempest, than the soul of man is thus capable of being vivified and animated by the presentation of appropriate objects,--nay, often by even the most casual external impulse. If this be so, is it not possible that an external instrument for thus stimulating and vivifying spiritual life might be given us by God; which, if not, in literal strictness, a "revelation," would virtually have all the effect of one, as rekindling the dying light, reillumining the fading characters, of spiritual truth? Nor, surely, is there much presumption in supposing that the appropriate influences of such an instrumentality may be brought to bear upon us with infinite advantage by Him who alone possesses perfect access to all the avenues of our spirits; a perfect mastery of our whole nature; of intellect, imagination, and conscience of those laws of association and emotion which He himself has framed. If Shakspeare and Milton can daily exercise over myriads of minds an ascendency which makes their admirers speak of them almost with the "Bibliolatry" with which Mr. Newman makes Christian speak of the Bible, I apprehend God could construct a "book," even though it told man nothing which was strictly a revelation, which might be of infinite value to him; simply from the fact that the modes in which truths operate upon us, and by which our faculties are educated to their perfection, are scarcely less important than either the truths or the faculties themselves. But I need say the less upon this point, inasmuch as Mr. Newman has spoken of the New Testament, and its influence over his mental history, in terms which conclusively show that, if it be not a "revelation," ample space is left for such a divinely constructed book, if God were pleased to give one. "There is no book in all the world," says he, "which I love and esteem so much as the New Testament, with the devotional parts of the Old. There is none which I know so intimately, the very words of which dwell close to me in my most sacred thoughts, none for which I so thank God, none on which my soul and heart have been to so great an extent moulded. In my early boyhood, it was my private delight and daily companion; and to it I owe the best part of whatever wisdom there is in my manhood." (Soul, pp. 241, 242.) I only doubt whether even this testimony, strong as it is, fully represents the power which the Book has had in modifying his interior life, though he would now fain renounce its proper authority; whether it has not had more to do than he thinks in originating his conception of such "moral and spiritual" truth as he still recognizes. Its very language comes so spontaneously to his lips, that his dialect of "spiritualism" is one continued plagiarism from David and Isaiah, Paul and Christ. Nay, I may well be doubted whether the entire substance of his spiritual theory be any thing else than a distorted and mutilated Christianity. Some of the previous observations apply to the possibility and utility of a divinely originated statement of "ethical truth"; nor will they be neutralized by an objection which Mr. Newman is fond of urging, --namely, that a book cannot express (as it is freely acknowledged no book can) the limitations with which maxims of critical truth are to be received and applied; that all it can do is to give general principles, and leave them to be applied by the individual reason and conscience. Such reasoning is refuted by fact. The same thing precisely is done, and necessarily done, in every department in which men attempt to convey instruction in any particular art or method. It is thus with the general principles of mechanics, of law, of medicine. Yet men never entertain a notion that the collection and inculcation of such maxims are of no use, or of little, merely because they must be intelligently modified and not blindly applied in action. If indeed there were any force in the objection, it would put an end to all instruction,--that of Mr. Newman's "spiritual faculty" amongst the rest, for that too can only prompt us by general impulses, and leaves us in the same ignorance and perplexity how far we are to obey them. That is still to be otherwise determined. The genuine result of such reasoning, if it were acted upon, would be that we need never, in any science or art whatever, trouble ourselves to enunciate any general principle or maxim, because perfectly useless! Similarly, we need never inculcate on children the duty of obeying their honoring their superiors, of being frugal or diligent, humble or aspiring, the particular circumstances and limitations in which they are to be applied being indeterminate! But is not the experience of every day and of all the world against it? Is not the early and sedulous inculcation of just maxims of duty fell to be a great auxiliary to its performance in the circumstances in which it is necessary to apply them? Is not the possession of a general rule, with the advantages of a clear and concise expression,--in the form of familiar proverbs, or embodied in powerful imagery,--a potent suggestive to the mind; not only whispering of duty, but, by perpetual recurrence, aiding the habit of attending to it? Is not the early and earnest iteration of such sententious wisdom in the ears of the young, --the honor which has been paid to sages who have elicited it, or felicitously expressed it,--the care with which these treasures of moral wisdom have been garnered up,--the perpetual efforts to conjoin elementary moral truth with the fancy and association,--is not all this a standing testimony to a consciousness of the value of such auxiliaries of virtue and duty? Is it not felt, that, however general such truths may be, the very forms of expression,--the portable shape in which the truth is presented,--have an immense value in relation to practice? Admitting, therefore, as before,--but, as before, only conceding it for argument's sake (for the limits of variation, even as regards the elementary truths of morals, are, as experience shows, very wide),--that each man in some shape could anticipate for himself the more important ethical truth, there would be yet ample scope left for the utility of a divinely constructed instrument for its exhibition and enforcement, in perfect harmony with the modes in which it is actually exhibited and enforced by man, in close analogy with the form in which he attempts the same task, whenever he teaches any practical art or method whatever. Only may it not be again presumed here, that He who knows perfectly "what is in man" would be able to perform the work with correspondent perfection? Whether He has performed it in the Bible or not, that book does, at all events, contain not merely a larger portion of pure ethical truth than any other in the world, but ethical truth expressed and exhibited (as Mr. Newman himself, and most other persons, would admit) in modes incomparably better adapted than in any other book to lay hold of the memory, the imagination, the conscience, and the heart. Even then, if we conceded that elementary "spiritual and moral truth" is not only congruous to man's faculties, but in some shape universally recognized and possessed, it might yet be contended, from the manner in which such truth is dependent for its power and vitality on the forms in which it comes in contact with the human spirit and stimulates it, that ample space is left for such a divine instrument as the Bible; and that it would be in perfect conformity with the laws of our nature, --in analogy with the known modes in which external aids give efficacy to such truth. At the same time, be pleased once more to remember, that I concede so much only for argument's sake; I contend that in the stricter sense, without some external aid,--and the Bible may be at least as effectual,--the religious faculty will not expand at all; and that, even where there are these indispensable external influences, the recognition of the truth is obscure or bright, as those influences vary in their degrees of appropriateness. Where they are rude and imperfect, (as amongst barbarous nations) we have the spectacle of a soul which struggles towards the light, like a plant to which but small portion of the sun's rays is admitted; it depends on the free admission of the light whether or not it shall arrive at its full development,--its beauty, its fragrance, and its color. The most that merely human culture can promise, even under the most favorable circumstances, (witness ancient Greece!) is that men, in some few favored instances, may possibly attain those truths which it may be admitted are congenital to the soul, and easily recognized when once propounded but which, in fact, few men, by nature's sole teaching, ever do clearly attain. It is infinitely important that the path, dimly explored by sages alone, should be thrown open to mankind. Is it not even possible, then, that this task should be performed by a book like the Bible? and if such a book were given, would it not be, I once more ask, in analogy with the fundamental laws of the soul's development,--its uniform dependence on external influences for any result, and the variable nature of that result, as the influence itself is more or less appropriate? To affirm that each man at once, by in internal illumination alone, attains a clear recognition of even elementary "moral and spiritual truth" is to ignore the laws according to which the soul's activity is developed, and to contradict universal experience, which tells us that the great majority of mankind are but in partial possession of this "spiritual and moral truth," and hold it for the most part in connection with the most prodigious and pernicious errors. You will perceive that I have here chosen to argue the question of the possibility and utility of a "revelation" on your own grounds; but recollect what I have said, that, in fact, the principal reasons for a revelation would still remain in force, even if all you demand were conceded. It is a point which I do not find that Mr. Newman's dictum affects. There may obviously be other facts and other truths as intimately connected with man's destinies and happiness as the elementary truths of religious and moral science; facts and truths which may be necessary to give efficacy to mere elementary principles, and to supply motives to the performance of moral precepts. And how ample in this respect are man's necessities, and how large the field for a "divine revelation," if we content ourselves with such a meagre theology as that of Mr. Parker and Mr. Newman, you see plainly enough in the questions asked by Harrington! How many of Mr. Newman's and Mr. Parker's assumptions--the moment they step beyond such "spiritual and moral truth" as is "elementary" indeed--does Harrington declare that he finds unverified by his own consciousness, and needing, if true, an authority to confirm them far more weighty than theirs! As to the terms of access to the Supreme Being,--his aspects towards man,--man's duties towards him,--the future destinies, even the future existence, of the soul (a point on which these writers are themselves divided),--the boasted "progress" of the race, which they "prophesy," indeed, but without any credentials of their mission,--you see how on all these points Harrington maintains--and oh! how many, if the Bible be untrue, must maintain with him--that he is in total darkness! III. But I must proceed to show yet further, if you will have patience with me, that, supposing a divine external revelation to be given, it is in striking analogy, not only with the primary laws of development of our whole intellectual and spiritual being, but with the fact-- undeniable, however unaccountable--that our subjection to external influence does, in truth, not only mould and modify, but usually determine, our intellectual and religious position. We see not only some external influence is necessary to awaken activity at all, but that it is actually so powerful and so inevitable from the manner in which man enters the world, and is brought up in it,--his long years of dependence, absolute dependence, on the education which is given him (and what an education it has ever been for the mass of the race!),--that it makes all the difference, intellectually and morally, between a New Zealand savage and an Englishman,--between the grossest idolater and the most enlightened Christian. This fact affects alike our intellectual and spiritual condition. The savage can use his senses better than the civilized; but the interval is trifling compared with that between the intellectual condition of a man can appreciate Milton and Newman, and that of our Teutonic ancestors. Its the sentiments of a nature there is the same wide gulf--or rather wider--between a Hottentot and a Paul. Yet the same "susceptibilities" and "potentialities" are in each human mind. The same remark applies to the sense of the beautiful and sublime; the characteristic faculties are in all mankind; it is education which elicits them. Nay, would you not stare at a man who should affirm that education was not itself a species of "revelation," simply because the truths thus communicated were all "potentially" in the mind before? The fact is, that education is of coordinate importance with the very faculties without which it cannot be imparted. Now we cannot break away from that law of development with which our individual existence is involved, and which necessarily (as far as any will of ours is concerned) is a most important, nay, the most important, element in that tertium quid which man becomes in virtue of the threefold elements which constitute him:--1st, a given internal constitution of mind; 2d. the modifying effects of the actual exercise of his faculties and their interaction with one another, resulting in habits; and, 3d, that external world of influences which supplies the materiel from which this strange plant extracts its aliment, and ultimately derives its fair fruits or its poisonous berries. All this is inevitable, upon the supposition that man was to be a social, not a solitary being,--linked by an indissoluble chain to those who came before and to those who come after him,--dependent, absolutely dependent, upon others for his being, his training, his whole condition, civil, social, intellectual, moral, and religious. If, then, an external instrument of moral and religious culture were Given by God to man, would it not be in strict analogy with this tremendous and mysterious law of human development? IV. I must be permitted to proceed yet one step further, and affirm that the very form in which this presumed revelation has (as we say) been given--that of a Book--is also in strict analogy with the law by which God himself has made this an indispensable instrument of all human progress. We have just seen that man is what he is, as much (to say the least) by the influence of external influence as by the influence of the internal principles of his constitution; it must be added, that to make that external influence of much efficiency at all, still more to render it either universally or progressively beneficial, the world waits for a--BOOK. Among the varied external influences amidst which the human race is developed, this is incomparably the most important, and the only one that is absolutely essential. Upon it the collective education of the race depends. It is the sole instrument of registering, perpetuating, transmitting thought. Yes, whatever trivial and vulgar associations may impair our due conceptions of this grandeur of this material and artificial organon of man's development, as compared with the intellectual and moral energies, which have recourse to it, but which are almost impotent without it. God has made man's whole career of triumphs dependent upon this same art of writing! The whole progress of the world he has created, he has made dependent upon the Alphabet! Without this the progress of the individual is inconceivably slow, and with him, for the most part, progress terminates. By this alone can we garner the fruits of experience,--become wise by the wisdom of others, and strong by their strength. Without this man everywhere remains, age after age, immovably a savage; and, if he were to lose it when he has once gained it, would, after a little ineffectual flutter by the aid of tradition, sink into barbarism again. Till this cardinal want is supplied, all considerable "progress" is impossible. It may look odd to say that the whole world is dependent on any thing so purely artificial; but, in point of fact, it is only another way of stating the truth that God has constituted the race a series of mutually dependent beings; and as each term of this series is perishable and evanescent, the development and improvement of the race must depend on an instrument by which an inter-connection can be maintained between its parts; till then, progress must not only be most precarious, but virtually impossible. To the truth of this all history testifies. I say, then, not only that, if God has given man a revelation at all, he has but acted in analogy with that law by which he has made man so absolutely dependent upon external culture, but that if he has given it in the very shape of a book, he has acted also in strict analogy with the very form in which he has imposed that law on the world. He has simply made use of that instrument, which, by the very constitution of our nature and of the world, he has made absolutely essential to the progress and advancement of humanity. May we not conclude from analogy, that if God has indeed thus constituted the world, and if he busies himself at all in the fortunes of miserable humanity, he has not disdained to take part in its education, by condescendingly using that very instrument which himself has made the condition of all human progress? I think, even if you hesitate to admit that God has given us a "book-revelation," you must admit it would be at least in manifest coincidence with the laws of human development and the "constitution and course of nature." To conclude; I must say that Mr. Newman, in his account of the genesis of religion, does himself in effect admit (as Harrington has remarked) an "external revelation," though not in a book. For what else is that apparatus of external influences by which the several preparatory or auxiliary emotions are awakened, and the development of your "spiritual faculty" effected?--contact with the outward world,--with visible and material nature,--the instruction of the living voice! You acknowledge all this without derogation, as you imagine, to the sublime and divine functions of the indwelling "spiritual" power, why this rabid, this, I might almost say, puerile (if I ought not rather to say fanatical), hatred of the very notion of a "book-revelation"? Let us confess that, if a revelation be possible at all, it cannot be more worthy of God to give one even from "within" than in such a shape as a "book"; since without a "BOOK" man remains an idolater, in spite of his fine "spiritual faculties," and a barbarian, in spite of his sublime intellect; in fact, not much better than the beasts, in spite of all those noble capacities which, although they are in him, are as it were hopelessly locked up till he has obtained this key to their treasures. Nor do I think that the invectives of the modern spiritualists on this point are particularly becoming, when we reflect not only that they freely give mankind what Harrington declares to be to him, and I must say are equally to me, their "book-revelations," but in very deed, as he truly affirms, have given us nothing else. It has been much the same with all who have rejected historical Christianity, from Lord Herbert's time downwards. I paused, and Fellowes mused. At last he said, "I cannot feel convinced that the 'absolute religion' is (as Mr. Parker says) essentially the same in all men, and internally revealed. The want exists in all, and there must, according to the arrangements of universal nature, be the supply; just as the eye is for the light, and the light is for the eye. As he says, 'we feel instinctively it must be so.'" "Unhappily," said Harrington, "Mr. Parker says that many things must be which we find are not, and this among the number. At least I, for one, shall not grant that the sort of spiritual 'supply' which is to the Calmuck, or the savage 'besmeared with the blood of human sacrifices,' at all resembles that uniform light which is made for all people's eyes." Fellowes seemed still perplexed with his old difficulty. "I cannot help thinking," he began again, "that the 'spiritual faculty' acts by immediate 'insight,' and has nothing to do with 'logical processes' or 'intellectual propositions,' or the sensational or the imaginative parts of our nature; that it 'gazes immediately upon spiritual truth.' Now in the argument you have constructed, you have expressly implied the contrary. You have said, you know, that, even if you granted men to be in possession of 'spiritual and moral truth,' there might still be large space for a divinely constructed book from the reflex operation of the intellect, the imagination, and so forth, upon the products of the spiritual faculty; both directly, and also indirectly, inasmuch as external influences modify or stimulate them." "But," said I, "does not Mr. Newman himself, in the first part of his Treatise on the Soul, admit the reciprocal action of all these on the too plastic spiritual products; and as to 'logical and intellectual processes,' does he not continually employ them--for his system of opinions, though he will not allow them to be employed against it? And by what other means than through the intervention of your senses, by which you read his pages,--your imagination, by which you seize his illustrations,--your intellect, by which you comprehend his arguments, did he reclaim you, as you say he has done, from many of your ancient errors? How else, in the name of common sense, did he get access to your soul at all?" "I cannot pretend to defend Mr. Newman's consistency," said he, "in his various statements on this subject. I acknowledge I am even puzzled to find out how he did convince me, upon his hypothesis." "Are you sure," said I, laughing, "that he ever convinced you at all? However, all your perplexity seems to me to arise from supposing the spiritual powers of man to act in greater isolation from his other powers than is conceivable or even possible. Not apart from these, but in intimate conjunction with them, are the functions of the soul performed. The divorce between the 'spiritual faculties' and the intellect, which your favorite, Mr. Newman, has attempted to effect, is impossible. It is an attempt to sever phenomena which coexist in the unity of our own consciousness. I am bound in justice to admit, that there are others of our 'modern spiritualists' who condemn this attempt to separate what God hath joined so inseparably. Even Mr. Newman does practically contradict his own assertions; and outraged reason and intellect have avenged his wrongs upon them by deserting him when he has invoked them, and left him to express his paradoxes in endless perplexity and confusion. But this conversation is no bad preface to some observations on this important fallacy, (as I conceive,) which I have appended to the paper I have read, and, with your leave, I will finish with them." They assented, and I proceeded. It is very common for philosophers, spiritual and otherwise, to be guilty of two opposite errors, both exposed in the first book of the Novum Organum. One is, that of supposing the phenomena which they have to analyze more simple, more capable of being reduced to some one principle, than is really the case; the other, that of introducing a cumbrous complexity of operations unknown to nature. It is unnecessary here to adduce examples of the last; quite as frequently, at least, man apt to be guilty of the first. He imagines that complex and generally deeply convoluted phenomena he is called to investigate are capable of being more summarily analyzed than they can be. The ends to be answered in nature by the same set of instruments are in many cases so various, and in some respects so limit and traverse one another, that though the same multiplicity of ends is attained more completely, and in higher aggregate perfection, than by any device which man's ingenuity could substitute for them, yet those instruments are necessarily very complex at the best. Look, for example, at the system of organs by which, variously employed, we utter the infinite variety of articulate sounds, perform the most necessary of all vital functions (that of respiration), masticate solid food, and swallow fluids. The miracle is, that any one set of organs in any conceivable juxtaposition should suffice to discharge with such amazing facility and rapidity these different and rapidly alternated functions; yet I suppose few who have studied anatomy will deny, that, though relatively to the variety of purposes it has to perform the apparatus is very simple, it is absolutely very complex; and that its parts play into one another with great facility indeed, but with endless intricacy. To apply these observations to my special object. To one who attentively studies man's immaterial anatomy, much the same complexity is, I think, apparent; the philosopher is too apt to assume it to be much more simple than it is. It is the very error, as I conceive, into which some of you modern "spiritualists" fall when considering the phenomena of our religious nature. You do not sufficiently regard man as a complicated unity; you represent, if you do not suppose, the several capacities of his nature,--the different parts of it, sensational, emotional, intellectual, moral, spiritual,--as set off from one another by a sharper boundary line than nature acknowledges. They all work for immediate ends, indeed; but they all also work for, with, and upon each other, for other ends than their own. Yet, as they all exist in one indivisible mind, or rather constitute it, they form one most intricate machine: and it can rarely happen that the particular phenomena of our interior nature we happen to be investigating do not involve many others. Throughout his book on the "Soul," we find Mr. Newman employing expressions (though I admit there are others which contradict them) which imply that the phenomena of religion, of what he calls "spiritual insight," may be viewed in clearer distinction from those of the intellect, than, as I conceive, they ever can be; and that a much clearer separation can be effected between them than nature has made possible. To hear him sometimes speak, one would imagine that the logical, the moral, and the spiritual are held together by no vital bond of connection; nay, from some expressions, one would think that the "logical" faculty had nothing to do with religion, if it is not to be supposed rather to stand in the way of it; that the "intellect" and the "spiritual faculty" may each retire to its "vacant interlunar cave," and never trouble its head about what the other is doing. Thus he says in one place, "All the grounds of Belief proposed to the mere understanding have nothing to do with Faith at all." (Soul, p. 223.) In another, "The processes of thought have nothing to quicken the conscience or affect the soul." (ibid. p. 245) "How, then, can the state of the soul be tested by the conclusion to which the intellect is led?" (ibid. p. 245.) And accordingly you see he everywhere affirms that we ought not to have any better or worse opinion of any man for his "intellectual creed"; and that "religious progress" cannot be "anticipated" till intellectual "creeds are destroyed." (Phases, p. 222.) Here one would imagine that the intellectual, moral, and spiritual had even less to do with the production of each other's results than matter and mind reciprocally have with theirs. These last, we see, in a thousand cases act and react upon one another; and modify each other's peculiar products and operations in a most important manner. How much more reasonably may we infer that the elementary faculties of the same indivisible mind will not discharge their functions without important reciprocal action; that in no case can we have the process pure and simple as the result of the operation of a single faculty! If it were not so, I see not how we are to perform any of the functions of a spiritual nature, even as defined by you and your favorite writers; unless, indeed, you would equip the soul with an entire Sunday suit of separate capacities of reasoning, remembering, imagining, hoping, rejoicing, and so on, to be expressly used by the "soul" alone when engaged in her spiritual functions; quite different from that old, threadbare, much-worn suit of faculties, having similar functions indeed, but exercised on other objects. What can be more obvious (and it must be admitted that the most fanatical "spiritualist" employs expressions, and, what is more, uses methods, which imply it) than that, whether we have a distinct religious faculty or whether it be the result of the action of many faculties, the functions of our "spiritual" nature are performed by the instrumentality, and involve the intervention, of the very same much-abused faculties which enable us to perform any other function. It is one and the same indivisible mind which is the subject of religious thought and emotion, and of any other thought and emotion. Religious truth, like any other truth, is embraced by the understanding--as indeed it would be a queer kind of truth that is not is stated in propositions, yields inferences, is adorned by eloquence is illustrated by the imagination, and is thus, as well from its intrinsic claims, rendered powerful over the emotions, the affections, and the will. In brief, when the soul apprehends, reasons, remembers, rejoices, hopes, fears, spiritually, it surely does not perform these functions by totally different faculties from these by which similar things are done on other occasions. All experience and consciousness are against the supposition. In religion, men's minds are employed on more sublime and elevated themes indeed, but the operations themselves are essentially of the same nature as in other cases. Hence we see the dependence of the true development of religion on the just and harmonious action of all our faculties. They march together; and it is the glorious prerogative of true religion that it makes them do so; that all the elements of our nature, being indissolubly connected, and perpetually acting and reacting on one another, should aid one another and attain a more just conjoint action. If there be acceptable faith, it presupposes belief of the truth, as well as love of it in the heart; if there be holy habit, it implies just knowledge of duty; if there be spiritual emotion awakened, it will still be in accordance with the laws which ordinarily produce it; that is, because that which should produce it is perceived by the senses or the intellect, is recalled by the memory, is vivified by the imagination. If faith and hope and love often kindle into activity, and hallow these instruments by which and through which they act, it is not the less true, that, apart from these,--as constituting the same indivisible mind--faith and hope and love cannot exist: and not only so; but when faith is languid, and hope faint, and love expiring, these faculties themselves shall often in their turn initiate the process which shall revive them all; some outward object, some incident of life, some "magic word," some glorious image, some stalwart truth, suddenly and energetically stated, shall, through the medium of the senses, the imagination, or the intellect, set the soul once more in a blaze, and revive the emotions which it is at other times only their office to express. A sanctified intellect, a hallowed imagination, devout affections, have a reciprocal tendency to stimulate each other. In whatever faculty of our nature the stimulus may be felt,--in the intellect or the imagination,--it is thence propagated through the mysterious net-work of the soul to the emotions, the affections, the conscience, the will: or, conversely, these last may commence the movement and propagate it in reverse order. Each may become in turn a centre of influence; but so indivisible is the soul and mind of man, so indissolubly bound together the elements which constitute them, that the influence once commenced never stops where it began, but acts upon them all. The ripple, as that of a stone dropped into still water, no matter where, may be fainter and fainter the farther from the spot where the commotion began, but it will stop only with the bank. Ordinarily many functions of the mind are involved in each, and sometimes all in one. ____ July 24. Yesterday, a somewhat interesting conversation took place between Harrington and Edward Robinson, a youth at college, a friend of George Fellowes's family. He is a devout admirer of Strauss, and thinks that writer has completely destroyed the historical character of the Gospels. I was, as usual, struck with the candor and logical consistency with which our sceptic was disposed to regard the subject. "You have Lingard and Macaulay here, I see," said young Robinson. "I need hardly ask, I think, which you find the most pleasant reading?" "You need not, indeed," cried Harrington. "Mr. Macaulay is so superior to the Roman Catholic historian (though his merits are great too) in genius, in consequence, in variety and amplitude of knowledge, in imagination, in style, that there is no comparison between them." "And do you think Mr. Macaulay as accurate as he is full of genius and eloquence?" "If he be not," said Harrington, laughing, "I am afraid there are very few of us deeply versed enough in history to detect his delinquencies, or even to say whether they have been committed. There may be, for aught I know, some cases (of infinite importance of course) in which he has represented an event as having taken place on the 20th of Dec. 1693; whereas it took place on the 3d Jan. 1694; or he may have said that Sir Thomas Nobody was the son of another Sir Thomas Nobody, whereas two or three antiquarians can incontestably prove that he was the son of Sir John Nobody, and nephew of the above. To me, I confess, he appears distinguished scarcely more by the splendor of his imagination than by the opulence of his knowledge, and the imperial command which he possesses over it. But, in truth, the accuracy or otherwise of history, when it is at all remote, is a matter in which I feel less interest than I once did. I read, indeed, Mr. Macaulay with perpetual renewal of wonder and delight. But though I believe that his vivid pictures are the result, of a faithful use of his materials, yet, if I must confess the full extent of my scepticism, his work, and every other work which involves a reference to events which transpired only a century or two ago, is poisoned as history by the suspicion that to ascertain the truth is impossible. I know it must be so, if the principles of your favorite Strauss are to be received; and yet it seems so absurd, that I am sometimes inclined, on that account alone, to laugh at Strauss's criticisms, just as David Hume did at his own speculative doubts when he got into society and sat down to backgammon with a friend. At other times, as I say, the whole field of historic investigation seems more or less the territory of scepticism." "I know not," said the other, "how you can justify any such general scepticism from any thing that Strauss has written." "Do you not? and yet I think it is a perfectly legitimate inference. Does not Strauss argue that certain discrepancies are to be observed, certain apparent contradictions and inconsistencies detected, in the New Testament narratives; and that therefore we are to reckon, if not the whole, yet by far the larger part, as utterly fabulous or doubtful, mythic or legendary? Now, I cannot but feel, on the other hand, that these narratives are as strikingly marked by all the usual indications of historic truthfulness as any historic writings in the world. The artlessness, simplicity, and speciality of the narrative,--a certain inimitable tone and air of reality, earnestness, and candor,--the general harmony of these so-called sacred writers with themselves and with profane authors (quite as general, to say the least, as usually distinguishes other narratives by different hands),--above all, the long-concealed, and yet most numerous 'coincidences' which lie deep beneath the surface and which only a very industrious mind brings to light; coincidences which, if ingenuity had been subtle enough to fabricate, that same ingenuity would have been too sagacious to conceal so deep, and which are too numerous and striking (one would imagine) to be the effect of accident;--all these things, I say, would seem to argue (if any thing can) the integrity of the narrative. Yet all these things must necessarily, of course, go for nothing, on Strauss's hypothesis. There are, you say, certain discrepancies, and from them you proceed to conclude that the narrative is uncertain, and unworthy of credit; that, if there be a residuum of truth at all, no man can know with any certainty what or how much it is. We must there-fore leave the whole problematical. Now the question comes, whether we must not in consistency apply the same principle further; and, if so, whether we can find in any history whatever stronger marks of credibility; whether any was ever submitted to an examination more severe, or so severe; whether any can boast of a larger number of minds, of the first order, giving their assent to it." "Let me stop you there," said the other; "you must consider that those minds were prejudiced in favor of the conclusion. They were inclined to believe the supernatural wonders which these pretended historians retail." "How differently men may argue with the same premises! I was about to mention the suspicion attaching to miraculous narratives, as attesting (I still think so, notwithstanding your observation) that stress and pressure of supposed historic credibility under which so many powerful minds--minds many of them of the first order--have felt themselves compelled to receive these histories as true, in spite of such obstacles. Surely, you do not think that a miracle is in our age, or has been for many ages, an antecedent ground of credibility; or that if a history does not contain enough of them, as this assuredly does, it is certain to be believed. No; do not you with Strauss contend that a miracle is not to be believed at all, because it contradicts uniform experience? And yet thousands of powerful minds have believed the truth of these historic records against all this uniform experience! Their prejudices against it must surely have been stronger than those for it.--But to resume the statement of my difficulties. I say the question returns whether there is any history in the world which either presents in inexplicable marks of historic credibility, or in which as numerous and equally inexplicable discrepancies cannot be discovered. If there be none, then how far shall we adopt and carry out the principles of Strauss? for if we carry them out with rigid equity, the whole field of history is abandoned to scepticism: it is henceforth the domain of doubt and contention; as, in truth, a very large part of it in Germany has already become, in virtue of these very principles. Much of profane history is abandoned, as well as the sacred; and Homer becomes as much a shadow as Christ." "You seem," said Robinson, "to be almost in the condition to entertain Dr. Whately's ingenious 'Historic Doubts' touching the existence of Napoleon Bonaparte!" * ____ * Are the ingenious "Historic Certainties," by "Aristar hus Newlight," from the same admirable mint?--ED. ____ "I believe that it is simply our proximity to the events which renders it difficult to entertain them. If the injuries of time and the caprice of fortune should in the remote future leave as large gaps in the evidence, and as large scope for ingenious plausibilities, as in relation to the remote past, I believe multitudes would find no difficulty in entertaining those 'doubts.' They seem to me perfectly well argued, and absolutely conclusive on the historic canons on which Strauss's work is constructed,--namely, that if you find what seem discrepancies and improbabilities in a reputed history, the mass of that historic texture in which they are found may be regarded as mythical or fabulous, doubtful or false. If you say the principles of Strauss are false, that is another matter. I shall not think it worth while to contest their truth or their falsehood with you. But if you adhere to them, I will take the liberty of showing you that you do not hold them consistently, if you think any remote history is to be regarded as absolutely placed beyond doubt." "Well, if you will be grave," said Robinson, "though, upon my word. I thought you in jest,--is it possible that you do not see that there is a vast difference between rejecting, on the same ground of discrepancies, the credibility of the narratives of the Gospel, and that of any common history?" "I must honestly confess, then, that I do not, if the discrepancies, as Strauss alleges, and not something else, is to be assigned as the cause of their rejection. If indeed, like some criminals under despotic governments, they are apprehended and convicted on a certain charge, but really hanged for an entirely different reason, I can understand that there may be policy in the proceeding; but I do not comprehend its argumentative honesty. Be pleased, therefore, (that I may form some conclusion,) to tell me what are those circumstances which so wonderfully discriminate the discrepancies in the New Testament histories from those in other histories, as that the inevitable consequence of finding a certain amount of discrepancies in the former leads to the rejection of the entire, or nearly entire, documents in which they are found, while their presence in other histories even to a far greater extent shall not authorize their rejection at all, or the rejection only of the parts in which the discrepancies are found. And yet I think I can guess." "Well, what do you guess?" "That you think that the miraculous nature of the events which form a portion of the New Testament history makes a great difference in the case." "And do not you?" "I cannot say I do: for though it is doubtless Strauss's principal object to get rid of these miracles, it is not as miracles, but as history, that his canons of historic criticism are applied to them. It is as history that he attacks the books in which they are contained. His weapons are directed against the miracles, indeed; but it is only by piercing the history, with which alone the supposed discrepancies had ally thing to do." "But I cannot conceive that the historic discrepancies occurring in connection with such topics must not have more weight attached to them than if they occurred in any other history." "This is because you have already resolved that miracles are impossible on totally different grounds. But you may see the fallacy in a moment. Talk with a man who does not believe miracles a priori impossible, and that, though of course improbable (otherwise they would be none, I suppose), the authentication of a divine revelation is a sufficient reason for their being wrought, and he evades your argument. You are then compelled, you see, to throw yourself exclusively upon the alleged historic discrepancies; they become your sole weapon; and if it pierces the New Testament history, I want to know whether it does not equally pierce all other remote history too? In truth, if, as you and Mr. Fellowes agree,--I only doubt,--a miracle is impossible, nothing can (as I think) be more strange, than that, instead of reposing in that simple fact, which you say is demonstrable, you should fly to historic proofs." "And do you not think that miracles are impossible and absurd?" "I think nothing, because, as I told Fellowes the other day, I am half inclined to doubt whether I doubt whether a miracle is possible or not, like a genuine sceptic as I am. And this doubt, you see, even of a doubt, makes me cautious. But to resume. If that principle be sound, it seems much more natural to adhere to it than to attack the Gospels as history. Strauss, however, has thought otherwise; and while he has left this main dictum unproved,--nay, has not even attempted a proof of it,--he has endeavored to shake the historic character of these records, treating them like any other records. I say, therefore, that to adduce the circumstance that the narrative is miraculous, is nothing to the purpose, until the impossibility of miracles is proved; and then, when this is proved, it is unnecessary to adduce the discrepancies. If on the other hand, a man has no difficulty (as the Christian, for example) in believing miracles to be possible, and that they have really occurred, Strauss's argument, as I have said, is evaded; and the seeming discrepancies can do no more against the credibility of the New Testament history, than equal discrepancies can prove against any other document. I will, if possible, make my meaning plain by yet another example. Let us suppose some Walter Scott had compiled some purely fictitious history, professedly laid in the Middle Ages (and surely even miraculous occurrences cannot be more unreal than these products of sheer imagination); and suppose some critic had engaged to prove it fiction from internal evidence supplied by contradictions and discrepancies, and so on, would you not think it strange if he were to enforce that argument by saying, 'And besides all this, what is more suspicious is, that they occur in a work of imagination!' Would you not say, 'Learned sir, we humbly thought this was the point you were engaged in making out? Is it not to assume the very point in debate? And if it be true, would it not be better to stop there at once, instead of taking us so circuitous a road to the same result, which we perceive you had already reached beforehand? Are you not a little like that worthy Mayor who told Henri Quatre that he had nineteen good reasons for omitting to fire a salute on his Majesty's arrival; the first of which was, that he had no artillery; whereupon his Majesty graciously told him that he might spare the remaining eighteen?' So I should say in the supposed case.--To return, then: you must, if you would consider the validity of Strauss's argument, lay aside the miraculous objection, which must be decided on quite different grounds, and which, in fact, if valid, settles the controversy without his critical aid. All who read Strauss's book either believe that miracles are impossible, or not; the former need not his criticisms,--they have already arrived at the result by a shorter road; the latter can only reject the history by supposing the discrepancies in it, as history, justify them. I ask you, then, supposing you one who, like the Christian, believes miracles possible, whether these historic discrepancies would justify you in saying that the New Testament records, considered simply as history, no longer deserve credit, and that you are left in absolute ignorance how much of them, or whether any part, is to be received,--ay or no?" "Well, then, I should say that Strauss has shown that the history, as history, is to be rejected." "Very well; only then do not be surprised that, in virtue of such conclusions, I doubt whether you ought not to push the principle a little further, and contend that, as there are no writings in the world which to bear more marks of historic sincerity and trustworthiness, and certainly none of any magnitude or variety in which far greater discrepancies are not to be founds, it is doubtful whether we can receive any thing as absolutely veritable history; and that the Book of Genesis, and Gospel of Luke, and History of Lingard, and History of Hume, are alike covered with a mist of sceptical obscurity." "But really, Mr. Harrington, this is absurd and preposterous!" "It may be so; but you must prove it, and not simply content yourself with affirming it. I am, at all events, more consistent than you, who tell the man who does not see your a priori objection to the belief of miracles, that a history which certainly contains as many marks of historic veracity as any history in the world, and discrepancies neither greater nor more numerous, must be reduced (ninety-nine hundredths of it) to myth on account of those discrepancies, while the others may still legitimate their claims to be considered as genuine history! Your only escape, as I conceive, from this dilemma, is, by saying that the marks of historic truth in the New Testament, looked at as mere history, are not so great as those of other histories, or that the discrepancies are greater; and I think even you will not venture to assert that. But if you do, and choose to put it on that issue, I shall be most happy to try the criterion by examining Luke and Paul, Matthew and Mark, on the one side; and Clarendon and May, or Hume, Lingard, and Macaulay, on the other; or, if you prefer them, Livy and Polybius, or Tacitus and Josephus." "But I have bethought me of another answer," said Robinson. "Suppose the sacred writers affirm that every syllable they utter is infallibly true, being inspired?" "Why, then," said Harrington, "first, you must find such a passage, which many say you cannot; secondly, you must find one which says that every syllable would remain always infallibly true, in spite of all errors of transcription and corruptions of time, otherwise your discrepancies will not touch the writers; and lastly, it does not affect my argument whether you find any such absurdities or not, since you and I would know what to say, though the Christian would not like to say it; namely, that these writers were mistaken in the notion of their plenary inspiration. It would still leave the mass of their history to be dealt with like any other history. Now I want to know why, if I reject the mass of that on the ground of certain discrepancies, I must not reject the mass of this on the score of equal or greater." After a few minutes Harrington turned to Fellowes and said,--"That in relation to the bulk of mankind there can be no authentic history of remote events plainly appears from a statement of Mr. Newman. He says, you know, after having relinquished the investigation of the evidences of Christianity, that he might have spared much weary thought and useless labor, if, at an earlier time, this simple truth had been pressed upon him, that since the 'poor and half-educated cannot investigate historical and literary questions, therefore these questions cannot constitute an essential part of religion.' You, if you recollect, mentioned it to my uncle the other night; and, in spite of what he replied, it does appear a weighty objection; on the other hand, if I admit it to be conclusive, I seem to be driven to the most paradoxical conclusions, at direct variance with the experience of all mankind,--at least so they say. For why cannot an historical fact constitute part of a religion?" "Because, as Mr. Newman says, it is impossible that the bulk of people call have any 'certainty in relation to such remote facts of history," said Fellowes. "And, therefore, in relation to any other remote history; for if the bulk of men cannot obtain certainty on, such historical questions, neither can they obtain certainty on other historical questions." "Perhaps not; but then what does it matter, in that case, whether they can obtain certainty or not?" "I am not talking--I am not thinking--as to whether it would matter or not. I merely remark that, in relation to the generality of people, at all events, they cannot obtain certainty on any remote historical questions. Of course, with regard to ordinary history, it is neither a man's duty, strictly speaking, to believe or disbelieve; and therefore I said nothing about duty. But in neither the one case nor the other is it possible for the bulk of mankind to obtain satisfaction, from a personal investigation, as to the facts of remote history, or indeed any history at all, except of a man's own life and that perhaps of his own family, up to his father and down to his son! What do you say to this,--yes or no?" "I do not know that I should object to say that the great bulk of mankind never can obtain a sufficiently certain knowledge of any fact of history to warrant their belief of it." "Very consistent, I think; for you doubtless perceive that if we say they can obtain a reasonable ground of assurance of the facts of remote history,--so that, if any thing did or does depend on their believing it, they are truly in possession of a warrant for acting on that belief,--I say you then see whither our argument, Mr. Newman's and yours and mine, is going; it vanishes,--oichetai, as Socrates would say. If, for example, men can attain reasonable certainty in relation to Alfred and Cromwell, alas! they may do the like in reference to Christ; and many persons will say much more easily. Now, with my too habitual scepticism, I confess to a feeling of difficulty here. You know there are thousands and tens of thousands amongst us, who, if you asked respecting the history of Alfred the Great or Oliver Cromwell, would glibly repeat to you all the principal facts of the story,--as they suppose; and if you ask them whether they have ever investigated critically the sources whence they had obtained their knowledge, they will say, No; but that they have read the things in Hume's History; or, perhaps, (save the mark!) in Goldsmith's Abridgment! But they are profoundly ignorant of even the names of the principal authorities, and have never investigated one of the many doubtful points which have perplexed historians; nay, as to most of them, are not even aware that they exist. Yet nothing can be more certain, than that their supposed knowledge would embrace by far the most important conclusions at which the most accurate historians have arrived. It would be principally in a supposed juster comprehension of minor points--of details--that the latter would have an advantage over them; compensated, however, by a 'plentiful assortment' of doubts on other points, from which these simple souls are free; doubts which are the direct result of more extensive investigation, but which can scarcely be thought additions to our knowledge;--they are rather additions to our ignorance. The impressions of the mass of readers on all the main facts of the two memorable periods respectively would be the same as those of more accurate critics. Now what I want to know is, whether you would admit that these superficial inquirers--the bulk of your decent countrymen, recollect--can be said to have an intelligent belief in any such history; whether you think them justified in saying that they are certain of the substantial accuracy of their impressions, and that they may laugh in your face (which they assuredly would do) if you told them that it is possible that Alfred may have existed, and been a wise and patriotic prince; and that probably Oliver Cromwell was Protector of England, and died in 1658; but that really they know nothing about the matter." "Of course they would affirm that they are as assured of the substantial accuracy of their impressions as of their own existence," replied Fellowes. "But what answer do you think they ought to give, my friend? Do you think that they can affirm a reasonable ground of belief in these things?" "I confess I think they can." "Ah! then I fear you are grossly inconsistent with Mr. Newman's principles, and must so far distrust his argument against historic religion. If you think that this ready assent to remote historic events may pass for a reasonable conviction and an intelligent belief, I cannot see why it should be more difficult to attain a similar confidence in the general results of a religious history; and in that case it may also become men's duty to act upon that belief. On the other hand, if it be not possible to obtain this degree of satisfaction in the latter case, neither for similar reasons will it be in the former. If you hold Mr. Newman's principles consistently, seeing that neither in the one case nor the other can the bulk of mankind attain that sort of critical knowledge which he supposes necessary to certainty, you ought to deny that any common man has any business to say that he believes that he is certain of the main facts in the history either of Alfred or Cromwell." "You do not surely mean to compare the importance of a belief in the one case with the importance of a belief in the other?" rejoined Fellowes. "I do not; and can as little disguise from myself that such a question has nothing to do with the matter. The duty in the one case depends entirely on the question whether such a conviction of the accuracy of the main facts and more memorable events, as may pass for moral certainty, and justify its language and acts, be possible or not. If, from a want of capacity and opportunity for a thorough investigation of all the conditions of the problem, it be not in the one case, neither will it be in the other. If this be a fallacy, be pleased to prove it such,--I shall not be sorry to have it so proved. But at present you seem to me grossly inconsistent in this matter. I have also my doubts (to speak frankly) whether we must not apply Mr. Newman's principle (to the great relief of mankind) in other most momentous questions, in which the notion of duty cannot be excluded, but enters as an essential element. I cannot help fancying, that, if his principle be true, mankind ought to be much obliged to him; for he has exempted them from the necessity of acting in all the most important affairs of life. For example, you are, I know, a great political philanthropist; you plead for the duty of enlightening the masses of the people on political questions, --of making them intelligently acquainted with the main points of political and economical science. You do not despair of all this?" "I certainly do not," said Fellowes. "A most hopeless task," said Harrington, "on Mr. Newman's principle. The questions on which you seek to enlighten them are, many of them, of the most intricate and difficult character,--are, all of them, dependent on principles, and involve controversies, with which the great bulk of mankind are no more competent to deal than with Newton's 'Principia.' An easy, and often erroneous assent, on ill-comprehended data, is all that you can expect of the mass; and how can it be their duty, when it may often be their ruin, to act upon this? A superficial knowledge is all that you can give them; thorough investigation is out of the question. Most men, I fear, will continue to believe it at least as possible for the common people to form a judgment on the validity of Paley's 'Evidences,' as on the reasonings of Smith's 'Political Economy.' They will say, if the common people can be sufficiently sure of their conclusions in the latter case to take action upon them,--that is, to render action a duty,--the like is possible in the former. Should you not hold by your principle, and say, that, as from the difficulty of the investigation it is not possible for the bulk of mankind to attain such a degree of certainty as to make belief in an 'historical religion' a duty, so neither, for the like reason, can it be their duty to come to any definite conclusion, or to take any definite action, in relation to the equally difficult questions of politics, legislation, political economy, and a variety of other sciences? I will take another case. I believe you will not deny that you are profoundly ignorant of medicine, nor that, though the most necessary, it is at the same time the most difficult and uncertain of all the sciences. You know that the great bulk of mankind are as ignorant as yourself; nay, some affirm that physicians themselves are about as ignorant as their patients; it is certain that, in reference to many classes of disease, doctors take the most opposite views of the appropriate treatment, and even treat disease in general on principles diametrically opposed! A more miserable condition for an unhappy patient can hardly be imagined. "Though our own life, or that of our dearest friend in the world, hangs in the balance, it is impossible for us to tell whether the art of the doctor will save or kill. I doubt, therefore, whether you ought not to conclude, from the principle on which we have already said so much, that God cannot have made it a poor wretch's duty to take any step whatever; nay, since even the medical man himself often confesses that he does not know whether the remedies he uses will do harm or good, it may be a question whether he himself ought not to relinquish his profession, at least if it be a duty in man to act only in cases in which he can form something better than conjectures." "Well," said Fellowes, laughing; "and some even in the profession itself say, that perhaps it might not be amiss if the patient never called in such equivocal aid, and allowed himself to die, not secundum artem, but secundum naturam." "And yet I fancy that, in the sudden illness of a wife or child, you would send to the first medical man in your street, or the next, though you might be ignorant of his name, and he might be almost as ignorant of his profession; at least, that is what the generality of mankind would do." "They certainly would." "But yet, upon your principles, how can it be their duty to act on such slender probabilities, or, rather, mere conjectures, in cases so infinitely important?" "I know not how that may be, but it is assuredly necessary." "Well, then, shall we say it is only necessary, but not a duty? But then, if in a case of such importance God has made it thus necessary for man to act in such ignorance, people will say he may possibly have left them in something less than absolute certainty in the matter of an 'historical religion.'--Ah! it is impossible to unravel these difficulties. I only know, that, if the principle be true, then as men in general cannot form any reasonable judgment, not only on the principles of medical science, but even on the knowledge and skill of any particular professor of it, (by their ludicrous mis-estimate of which they are daily duped both of money and life to an enormous extent,) it cannot be their duty to take any steps in this matter at all. The fair application, therefore, of the principle in question would, as I say, save mankind a great deal of trouble;--but, alas! it involves us philosophers in a great deal." "I cannot help thinking," said Fellowes, "that you have caricatured the principle." And he appealed to me. "However ludicrous the results," said I, "of Harrington's argument, I do not think that his representation, if the principle is to be fairly carried out, is any caricature at all. The absurdity, if anywhere, is in the principle aimed; viz. that God cannot have constituted it man's duty to act, in cases of very imperfect knowledge, and yet we see that he has perpetually compelled him to do so; nay, often in a condition next door to stark ignorance. To vindicate the wisdom of such a constitution may be impossible; but the fact cannot be denied. The Christian admits the difficulty alike in relation to religion and to the affairs of this world. He believes, with Butler, that 'probability is the guide of life';--that man may have sufficient evidence, in a thousand cases,--varying, however, in different individuals,--to warrant his action, and a reasonable confidence in the results, though that evidence is very far removed from certitude;--that similarly the mass of men are justified in saying that they know a thousand facts of history to be true, though they never had the opportunity, or capacitor, of thoroughly investigating them, and that the great facts of science are true, though they may know no more of science than of the geology of the moon;--that the statesman, the lawyer, and the physician are justified in acting, where they yet are compelled to acknowledge that they act only on most unsatisfactory calculations of probabilities, and amidst a thousand doubts and difficulties;--that you, Mr. Fellowes, are justified in endeavoring to enlighten the common people on many important subjects connected with political and social science, in which it is yet quite certain that not one in a hundred thousand can ever go to the bottom of them; of which very few can do more than attain a rough and crude notion, and in which the bulk must act solely because they are persuaded that other men know more about the matters in question than themselves;--all which, say we Christians, is true in relation to the Christian religion, the evidence for which is plainer, after all, than that on which man in ten thousand cases is necessitated to hazard his fortune or his life. If you follow out Mr. Newman's principle, I think you must with Harrington liberate mankind from the necessity of acting altogether in all the most important relations of human life. If it be thought not only hard that men should be called perpetually to act on defective, grossly defective evidence, but still harder that they should possess varying degrees even of that evidence, it may be said that the difference perhaps is rather apparent than real. Those whom we call profoundly versed in the more difficult matters which depend on moral evidence, are virtually in the same condition as their humbler neighbors; they are profound only by comparison with the superficiality of these last. Where men must act, the decisive facts, as was said in relation to history, may be pretty equally grasped by all; and as for the rest, the enlargement of the circle of a man's knowledge is, in a still greater proportion, the enlargement of the circle of his ignorance; for the circumscribing periphery lies in darkness. Doubts, in proportion to the advance of knowledge, spring up where they were before unknown; and though the previous ignorance of these was not knowledge, the knowledge of them (as Harrington has said) is little better than an increase of our ignorance." "If, as you suppose, it cannot be our duty to act in reference to any 'historical religion' because a satisfactory investigation is impossible to the mass of mankind, the argument may be retorted on your own theory. You assert, indeed, that in relation to religion we have an internal 'spiritual faculty' which evades this difficulty; yet men persist in saying, in spite of you, that it is doubtful,--1st, whether they have any such; 2d, whether, if there be one, it be not so debauched and sophisticated by other faculties, that they can no longer trust it implicitly; 3d, what is the amount of its genuine utterances; 4th, what that of its aberrations; 5th, whether it is not so dependent on development, education, and association, as to leave room enough for an auxiliary external revelation;--on all which questions the generality of mankind are just as incapable of deciding, as about any historical question whatever." Here Fellowes was called out of the room. Harrington, who had been glancing at the newspaper, exclaimed,--"Talk about the conditions on which man is left to act indeed! Only think of his gross ignorance and folly being left a prey to such quack advertisements as half fill this column. Here empirics every day almost invite men to be immortal for the small charge of half a crown. Here is a panacea for nearly every disease under heaven in the shape of some divine elixir, and, what is more, we know that thousands are gulled by it. How satisfactory is that condition of the human intellect in which quack promises can be proffered with any plausible chance of success!" I told him I thought the science of medicine would yield an argument against religious sceptics which they would find it very difficult to reply to. "How so?" "Ah! it is well masked; but I know you too well to allow me to doubt that you suspect what I am referring to." "Upon my word, I am all in the dark." "Is there not," said I, "a close analogy between the condition of men in reference to the health of their bodies and the science by which they hope to conserve or restore it, and the health of their souls and the science by which they hope to conserve or restore that? Has not God placed them in precisely the same difficulty and perplexity in both cases,--nay, as I think, in greater in relation to medicine,--and yet is not man most willing and eager to apply to its most problematic aid, imparted even by the most ignorant practitioners, rather than be without it altogether? The possession which man holds most valuable in this world, and most men, alas! more valuable than aught in any other world,--LIFE itself,--is at stake; it is subjected to a science, or rather an art, proverbially difficult in theory and uncertain in practice, about which there have been ten thousand varieties of opinion, --whimsically corresponding to the diversity of sect, creed, and priesthood, on which sceptics like you lay so much stress; in which even the wisest and most cautious practitioners confess that their art is at best only a species of guessing; while the patient can no more judge of the remedies he consents, with so much faith, to swallow on the knowledge of him who prescribes them, than he can of the perturbations of Jupiter's satellites. Yet the moment he is sick, away he goes to this dubious oracle, and trusts it with a most instructive faith and docility, as if it were infallible. All his doubts are mastered in an instant. I strongly suspect yours would be. Ought you not in consistency to refuse to act at all in such deplorable deficiency of evidence?" "Well," said he, "consistent or inconsistent, it must be admitted that the parallel is very complete,--and amusing." And he then went on, as he was apt to do, when an analogy struck his fancy. "Let me see,--yes, our unlucky race is condemned to put its most valued possession on the hazard of a wise choice, without any of the essential qualifications for wisely making it; a man cannot at all tell whether his particular priest in medicine understands and can skilfully apply even his own theory. Yes," he went on, "and I think (as you say) we might find, not only in the partisans of different systems of physic, the representatives of the various priesthoods, but in their too credulous--or shall we say, too faithful patients? --the representatives of all sects. There is, for example, the superstitious vulgar in medicine,--the gross worshipper of the Fetish, who believes in the efficacy of charm, and spell, and incantation, of mere ceremonial and opus operatum; then there is the polytheist, who will adore any thing in the shape of a drug, and who is continually quacking himself with some nostrum or other from morning to night; who not only takes his regular physician's prescriptions, but has his household gods of empirical remedies, to which he applies with equal devotion. Then there is the Romanist in medicine, who swears by the infallibility of some papal Abernethy, and the unfailing efficacy of some viaticum of a blue pill." "And who," said I, "would represent our friend who has just left the room, and who has tried every thing?" "Why," he replied, "I think he is in the condition of a little boy of whom I heard a little while ago, whose mother was a homoeopathist, and kept a little chest, from which she dispensed to her family and friends, perhaps as skilfully as the doctor himself could have done. The little fellow, going into her dressing-room, opened this box, and, thinking that he had fallen on a score of 'millions' (as children call them), swallowed up his mother's whole doctor's shop before he could be stopped. It was happy, said the doctor, when called in, that the little patient had swallowed so many, or he would have been infallibly killed. Or perhaps we may liken our friend to that humorous traveller, Mr. Stephens, who tells us, that, having been provided at Cairo, by a skilful physician there, with a number of remedies for some serious complaint to which he was subject, found, to his dismay, when suffering under a severe paroxysm in the fortress of Akaba, that he had lost the directions which told him in what order the medicines were to be taken. Whether pill, powder, or draught was to come first, he knew not: 'on which,' says he, 'in a fit of desperation, I placed them all in a row before me, and resolved to swallow them all serialim till I obtained relief.' George has equal faith." "You have omitted," said I, "one character,--that of the sceptic, who believes in no medicine at all; who sturdily dies with his doubts unresolved, and unattended by any physician. But it must be confessed that he is a still rarer character than the sceptic in religion. Nature, my dear Harrington, everywhere decides against you." "I acknowledge," he said, "that we are but a scanty flock in any department of life; but, upon my word, the parallel you have suggested is so striking, that I think I must in consistency, extend my scepticism to physic at least, and, if I am ill, refrain from availing myself of so uncertain an art, practised by such uncertain hands and which are to be selected by one who cannot even guess whether they are ignorant or skilful;--doctors, who may perhaps, as Voltaire said, put drugs of which they know nothing into bodies of which they know still less." "Act upon that resolution, Harrington," said I, "and you will at least be consistent: but, depend upon it, nature will confute you." "Why," said he, jestingly, "perhaps in the case of medicine, at all events, I might face the consequences of scepticism'. I remember reading, in some account of Madagascar, that the natives are absolutely without the healing art; 'and yet,' says the author, with grave surprise, 'it is not observed that the number of deaths is increased.' Perhaps, thought I, that is the cause of it." "The statistics," I replied, "of more civilized countries amply refute you, and show you that, uncertain as is the evidence on which God has destined and compelled men to act in this, the most important affair of the present life, and absolute as is the faith they are summoned to exercise, neither is the study of the art (uncertain as it is in itself), nor the dependence of patients upon it (still more precarious as that is), unjustified on the whole by the result; and as to the abuses of downright quackery, a little prudence and common sense are required, and are sufficient to preserve men from them." He mused, and, I thought, seemed struck by this analogy between man's temporal and spiritual condition I said no more, hoping that he would ponder it. ____ July 25. I had been so much interested in the discussion between Harrington and young Robinson on the fair application of the principle of Strauss to history in general, that I could not resist the temptation to tell the youth, in secret, that I thought the matter would admit of further discussion, and that he would do well to challenge Harrington plausibly to show that some undoubted modern event might, when it became remote history, be rendered dubious to posterity. He willingly acted on the hint the next morning. To some remark of his, Harrington replied thus:-- "Assuming with you, that Strauss has really cast suspicion on the historic character of the bulk of the transactions recorded in the New Testament, I must suspect that there is not an event in history, if at all remote, which, arguing exactly on the same principles, may not be made doubtful; and that is--" "Why, now," replied the other, "do you think it possible that the events of the present year" (referring to the Papal Aggression), "which are making such a prodigious noise in England, will ever stand a chance of being similarly treated some centuries hence?" "If they are ever treated at all," said Harrington; "but you must have observed that it is the tendency of man to make ridiculous miss-estimates of the importance of the transactions of his own age, and to imagine that posterity will have nothing to do but to recount them. He is much mistaken; they forget or care not a doit for nine tenths of what he does; and misrepresent the tenth," continued he, laughing. "Well, then, upon the supposition that Pio Nono and Cardinal Wiseman are of sufficient importance to be remembered at all eighteen hundred and fifty years hence, that is, in the year 3700 of the Christian era, --though in all probability some new and more rational epoch will have jostled out both the Christian era the Mahometan hegira by that time--" "Pray be sure," interrupted I, "before you predict a new epoch, that it will be wanted; that Christianity is really dead before you bury her. You will please remember that the experiment was tried in France with much formality, but somehow came to a speedy ignominious conclusion; the new era did not survive infancy. As Paulus thinks that Christ was only in a trance when he seemed to be dead, so it certainly often is (figuratively speaking) with his religion: it seems to be dead when it is only in a trance. It is apt to rise again, and be more active than ever; and never more so than when, as in the middle of the last century, our infidel undertakers were providing for its funeral. But I beg your pardon for interrupting your conversation; you were saying--" "I was saying," said Robinson, "that I doubt whether Cardinal Wiseman and his doings, eighteen hundred and fifty years hence, could be as much the subject of doubt and controversy (if remembered at all) as the events which Strauss has shown to be unhistorical. I think the press alone, with its diffusion and multiplication 'of the sources of knowledge, will alone prevent in the future the doubts which gather over the past. There will never again be the same dearth of historic materials." "In spite of all that," replied Harrington, "I suspect it will be very possible for men to entertain the same doubts about many events of our time, eighteen hundred and fifty years hence, as they entertain of many which happened eighteen hundred and fifty years ago." "I can hardly imagine this to be possible." "Because, I apprehend, first, that you are laboring under the delusion already mentioned, by which men ever magnify the importance of the events of their own age, and forget how readily future generations will let them slip from their memory, and let documents which contain the record of them slip out of existence; and, secondly, because you do not give yourself time to realize all that is implied in supposing eighteen hundred years to have elapsed, nor to transport yourself fairly into that distant age. As to the first;--let us recollect that the importance of historical events is by no means in proportion to the excitement they produce at the time of their occurrence. We have many exemplifications of this even in our own time; see the rapidity with which every trace of a political storm, which for a moment may have lashed the whole nation into fury, is appeased again: the surface is as smooth after a few short years as if it had never been ruffled at all! In all such cases, the constant tendency is to let the events which have been thus transient in their effects sink into oblivion. But even of those which have been far more significant, (since each future age will teem with fresh events equally significant, all claiming a part in the page of general history,) the importance will be perpetually diminishing in estimate, and still more in interest, from the intenser feeling with which each age will in turn regard the events which stand in immediate proximity to its own. As time rolls on, all of the past that can be spared will be gradually jostled out. Details will be lost; and then, when remote ages turn to reinvestigate the half-forgotten past, the want of those details will issue in the customary problems and 'historic doubts.' In the page of general history, events of a remote age, except those of a surpassing interest, will be reduced to more and more meagre outlines, till abridgments are abridged, and even these compendiums thought tedious. The interval between decade and decade now will be as much as that between century and century then. History will have to employ a sort of Bramah press in her compositions, and its application will compress into mere films the loose and pulpy textures submitted to it by each age. Let human vanity think what it will, many events and many names which seem imperishable will speedily die out of remembrance; many lights in the firmament, destined (as we deem) to shine 'like the stars for ever and ever,' will hereafter be missing from the catalogue of the historic astronomer." "But, at all events," said the other, "though there are thousands of facts which will be virtually forgotten, it will be at all times easy to ascertain (if a sufficiently strong motive exist) the real character of past, events by a reference to the documents preserved by the press. The press,--the press it is which will preserve us from the doubts of the past." "I doubt that. Has there been any lack of historic controversy respecting a thousand facts which have transpired since the press was in full activity? You forget, that, in the first place, neither the press, nor any thing else, can preserve any original documents. Time will not be inactive in the future more than in the past; it will have no more respect for printed books than for manuscripts. An immense mass of print is every year silently perishing by mere decay. The original documents to which you refer will, eighteen hundred years hence, have almost all perished; few will be preserved except in copies, and how many disputes that alone will cause, it is hard to say; but we may form some guess from the experience of the past. Of thousands of these documents, again, no importance having been attached to them, and no one having imagined that any importance would ever be attached to them, no copies will have been taken, and there will be here again the usual field for conjectures. This is a common trick of time;--silently destroying what a present age thinks may as well be left to his maw. It is not even discovered that valuable documents are lost, till something turns up to make mankind wish they may be found. But neither is this the sole nor the chief source of future historic doubts. Do not flatter yourself too much on the wonders which the press can work, amongst which one unquestionably is, that it will bury at least as much as it will preserve. Several considerations will suffice to show that here, too, we labor under a delusion. Oblivion will practically cover many events, owing to the mere accumulations of the press itself. You talk of the ease of consulting 'original documents'; but when they lie buried in the depths of national museums, amidst mountain loads of forgotten and decaying literature, it will not be so easy, even supposing the present activity of the press only maintained for eighteen hundred and fifty years (although, in all probability, it will proceed at a rapidly increased ratio),--I say it will not be so easy to lay your hands on what you want. The materials, again, will often exist by that time in dead or half-obsolete languages, or at least in languages full of archaic forms. It will be almost as difficult to unearth and collate the documents which bear upon any events less than the most momentous, as to recover the memorials of Egypt from the pyramids, or of ancient Assyria from the mounds of Nineveh. The historian of a remote period must be a sort of Belzoni or Layard. If we can suppose any thing so extravagant as that the British Museum will be in existence then, having preserved during these centuries (as it does now) all new hooks, and accumulated ancient and foreign literature only at the rate it has during these few years past, the library alone will extend over hundreds of acres at least. This, unless our posterity are fools, can hardly be the case; and therefore much will be rejected and left to the mercy of the great destroyer. But the very existence of any such repository is itself a very doubtful supposition. Comprehensive, indeed, may be the destruction of many large portions of our archives, essentially necessary to minute accuracy at so distant a date; nay, England herself may have ceased to exist. If her subterranean fuel be not exhausted, a cheaper and equally abundant supply of it may have been found elsewhere, and transfer for ever the chief elements of her manufacturing or commercial prosperity; or entirely new and more transcendent sources of science may have done the same thing, and our country may be left, like a stranded vessel, to rot upon the beach! Her furnaces extinguished, her manufactories deserted, her cities decayed, the hum of her busy population silenced, she may present a spectacle of desolation like that of so many other famous nations which have risen, culminated, and set for ever." "Or," interrupted I, "(and may God avert the omen!) the same ruin may be accomplished still earlier, and by more potent causes. Her nobles enervated by luxury, her lower classes sunk in vice and ignorance, and both the one and the other decaying in piety and religion (a sure result of neglecting that Bible which has directly and indirectly formed her strength), she may have fallen a victim to the consequences of her own degeneracy, or to an irresistible combination of the enemies who envy and hate her. That picture of the splendid imagination of the great historian of our day may be realized, 'when some traveller from New Zealand shall, in the midst of a vast solitude, take his stand on a broken arch of London Bridge to sketch the ruins of St. Paul's.'" "In short," resumed Harrington, "in several ways that appalling catastrophe may have taken place; and, should this be the case, how many questions will be asked of history, but asked in vain! As for Rome,--what other great name in the present strife pitted against England,--for aught we can tell, she may by that time be in desolation far more remediless than when the grim Attilas and Alarics stormed her walls. For aught we know, the agency of those terrible elements which more or less mine the soil of Italy may have made her 'like unto' Herculaneum or Pompeii; or that silent desolater, the malaria, which Dr. Arnold thinks will be perpetual and will increase, may long before that period have reduced, not only the Campagna of Rome, but the whole region of the 'seven hills,' to a pestilential solitude." "But all this is mere vision?" said Robinson. "Certainly; but it is the vision of the possible. Similarly wonderful and equally unexpected revolutions have taken place in the history of past nations and empires in a less space of time; and some enormous changes, we know, must happen during the next eighteen hundred and fifty years; and they will tend both to jostle out thousands of events of meaner moment, and to effect a comparative destruction of the memorials of the past. You do not suppose, I presume, that London and Rome are absolutely privileged from the fate which has overtaken Babylon and Memphis. I, for one, therefore, do not expect that the time will arrive when, in the historic investigations of the past, our Strausses will not find abundant scope for ingenious theories; nay, many real sources of perplexity even in reference to events which, at the time of their occurrence, seemed written as 'with a pen of iron on the rock for ever.' But even supposing no other difficulty, I cannot lay small stress upon the mere accumulation of materials on which the historian, two thousand years hence, will have to operate, if he would recover an exact account of the events of our time. It is much the same whether you have to dig into the pyramids of Egypt, or into the catacombs of the buried literature of two thousand years, for the memorials which are to enable you to arrive at the exact truth, at least as to any events of transient interest, however important at the time of their occurrence. It will be like 'hunting for a needle in a bundle of hay,' as the proverb says." "Still, I cannot imagine that facts like those with which our ears have been ringing during the last eight months, can ever be contested." "Can you not?" said Harrington. "I cannot imagine any thing more likely than that, eighteen hundred and fifty years hence, such an event, on Strauss's principles, may be shown to be very problematical." "Will you endeavor to show how it may probably be?" rejoined Robinson. "Well, I have no objection, if you will give me till this evening to prepare so important a document." In the evening, after supper, he amused us by reading us a brief paper, entitled THE PAPAL AGGRESSION SHOWN TO BE IMPOSSIBLE. "I shall proceed on the supposition that some Dr. Dickkopf or Dr. Scharfsinn, for either name will do, has to deal (as my uncle here believes our modern critics have to deal in the Gospels) with an account literally true. This learned man I shall imagine as existing in some nation at the antipodes eighteen hundred and fifty years hence, and intellectually, if not literally, descended from some erudite critics of our age. Let me further suppose that the principal memorials of the current events are found in the page of some continuator of Macaulay (may the Fates have pity on him! I am afraid he will be far worse than even Smollett after Hume), who publishes his work only sixty years hence. Let us suppose him (as surely we well may) proceeding thus: 'During the year 1850-51, our countrymen are represented to us, by the accounts of those who lived at the time (some few still survive), as having been in a condition of political and religious excitement almost unprecedented in their history. It was occasioned by the attempt of the Pope to reestablish the Roman Catholic hierarchy, which had been extinct since the Reformation. As these events, though all-absorbing to the actors in them, (as are so many others of very secondary importance,) have now shrunk to their true dimensions, and are, in fact, infinitely less momentous than others which were silently transpiring at the time almost without notice, I shall content myself with simply condensing a brief contemporaneous document which gives the chief points, without passion or prejudice, in a narrative so simple that it vouches for its own veracity:-- "Without permission of the Crown, or any negotiations with the Government whatever, Pope Plus the Ninth divided the whole of England into twelve sees, and assigned these to as many Roman Catholic bishops with local titles and territorial jurisdiction. The chief of them was one Nicholas Wiseman (by birth, it is said, a Spaniard), who was created Archbishop of Westminster and Cardinal. "'The said Wiseman issued a pastoral letter, which was read on the 27th day of October, 1850, in all the churches and chapels of the Romanists, congratulating Catholic England on the reestablishment of the Roman hierarchy. In it he used the startling expression, "Our beloved country has been restored to its orbit in the ecclesiastical firmament, from which its light had long vanished." "'The nation was the more surprised at all this, inasmuch as the position of Pio Nono was not such as to warrant any expectation of a step so audacious. Little more than a year had elapsed since his own subjects in Rome itself rebelled against him, murdered his Prime Minister, and compelled him, in the disguise of a menial, to fly from Rome; nor was he restored except by the arms of the French, who besieged and took Rome in 1849. "'That the Pope, while holding his own little dominions on so precarious a tenure, should venture to assume such an exercise of supremacy over the most powerful nation in the world,--a nation so jealous of its independence, which had so long been, and which still was, most averse to his claims,--seemed almost incredible to the people of England; and they were proportionably indignant. "'Some affirmed that the aforesaid Cardinal Wiseman was the chief cause of it all,--the spectacle of many conversions from the Church of England to that of Rome having deceived him into a notion that the national mind was far more generally disposed to receive Romanism; and to make up the long-standing breach with the Papacy, than was really the case. The principal cause of the conversions above mentioned was what was called the "Oxford Movement." In the University of Oxford had sprung up a body of men who had consecrated their lives to the diffusion of doctrines indefinitely near those of Rome. They spoke of the Reformation contemptuously; advocated very many, obsolete rites and usages; magnified the power of the church and the prerogatives of the priesthood. Many of them, at length, finding that they could not, with any shadow of consistency, remain in the English church, abandoned it; but many others remained, and propagated the same opinions with impunity. They were regarded as traitors by their brethren, though no steps were taken to prevent them from teaching their notions, nor to deprive them of their benefices and emoluments. Among those who gave up their livings, of their own accord, from the feeling that they could not hold them with a safe conscience, the principal was one afterwards called Father Newman. "'Now this Newman must by no means be confounded with another of the same name, Professor Newman,--in fact his own brother,--who was also educated at Oxford, but whose history was in most singular contrast with his. While the one brother went over to Rome, exceeded in zeal and credulity even the Romanists themselves, and sighed for a restoration of mediaeval puerilities, the other lapsed into downright infidelity, and denied even the possibility of an external revelation. "'Very many thought, that, if the Oxford party had been wise enough to proceed more gently in the propagation of their notions, they would have accomplished much greater things, and perhaps eventually brought the popular mind to embrace the Romish Church. But their later publications (and especially No. 90) opened the eyes of many, and the frequent defections from the English Church, which were almost daily announced in the papers, opened the eyes of many more. "'But whether or not Wiseman and other principal persons were misled by erroneous representations of the state of the English mind, certain it is that he advised the Pope to take this perilous step. The Pope was persuaded; he assured the people of England, that he should not cease to supplicate the Virgin Mary and all the saints whose virtues had made this country illustrious, that they would deign to obtain, by their intercessions with God, a happy issue to his enterprise. "'The excitement produced by the publication of the Pope's proceedings throughout England was prodigious, and can hardly be conceived by us at this day. Every county, city, and almost every town, held meetings in the utmost alarm and indignation; and resolved on petitioning the Queen and Parliament to do something or other to prevent the Pope's measures from taking effect; and especially to annul all claims to local and territorial jurisdiction in this country. The universities; the clergy in their dioceses; the Bishops collectively,--even Philpotts of Exeter, though intoxicated with zeal for those Oxford notions which had done all the mischief; the municipalities; almost all organized bodies, whether of Churchmen or Dissenters;--discussed and resolved. Amongst these meetings one was held at the Guildhall of London, which was crowded with the merchant princes of that great city, and all that could represent its wealth, intelligence, and energy. One Masterman opened the proceedings, made a vehement speech against the Bishop of Rome and his pretensions, and proposed a stringent resolution, which was carried by acclamation. "'At a dinner given by the Lord Mayor, at which were present many of the Ministers of the Crown, the Lord Chancellor Wilde spoke very boldly, and, as some thought, unadvisedly, on his possible future relations to the Cardinal. "'Cardinal Wiseman published a subtle defence of himself and the Popish measure, which he addressed to the people of England; and, whether consistently or inconsistently, pleaded in the most strenuous manner for the inviolable observance of the principles of "religious liberty." "'A singular and indeed inexplicable circumstance occurred in the course of this controversy. In a lecture, delivered at the Hanover Square Rooms, a certain Presbyterian clergyman had asserted that the oath prescribed in the Pontificale Romanum, which the Cardinal Wiseman must have taken to the Pope when he received the Pallium as Archbishop of Westminster, notoriously contained a clause enjoining the duty of persecution. This clause, a facetious Englishman said, ought to be translated, "I will persecute and pitch into all heretics to the utmost of my power"; and every one knew that the Pope of Rome looked upon the English as the greatest heretics in the world. "'When Wiseman heard of the representations thus made, he caused his secretary to write to the Protestant lecturer, to say that the clause in the oath to which he had referred was not insisted upon, in his (the Cardinal's) case, by the Pope, and that, if his calumniator chose to go to the Cardinal's library, he would see that it was cancelled in his copy of the Pontifical. The Protestant accepted his challenge and went to the said library. He was then shown the oath, and found the clause in question, totidem verbis; not cancelled, however, but marked off by a line in black ink drawn over it, and (as it seemed) very recently. "'Pamphlets were published on this curious circumstance on both sides; the Roman Catholics contended that the mere fact of Wiseman's challenge was a sufficient proof of his consciousness of rectitude. "'On the whole, after half a year of perpetual agitation, both in and out of Parliament, a measure was passed which was notoriously inadequate to suppress the offence, and which was broken with impunity. "'It is gratifying to add, that, notwithstanding the dangerous and vehement excitement which so long inflamed the minds of the people, no life was lost except on one occasion. The sufferer--contrary to what might have been expected--was of the dominant party a policeman, who was endeavoring to repress the party violence of some Irish Catholics in the North of England.'" ____ "Now it need not be said," proceeded Harrington, "that these sentences contain what is perfectly well known by you--for myself I say nothing--to be the merest matter of fact, narrated in the simplest language, without any art or embellishment. Would you like to hear how Dr. Dickkopf, of New Zealand, or Kamtschatka, or Caffre-land, might treat such a document eighteen hundred and fifty years hence, amidst that imperfect light which we well know rests upon so many portions of the past, and which may, very possibly, be felt in the future? I think it would not be difficult for him to show that the 'Papal Aggression' was impossible." "We will, at least, listen to you," said Robinson. "Let us suppose, then, some learned Theban stumbling upon this brief record of an obscure event, and, as usual, making (if only because he had discovered what nobody in the world either knew or cared about) a huge commentary upon it; concluding from the internal evidence, the simplicity of the style, the absence of all imaginable motives for misrepresentation, and some external corroborative fragments painfully gleaned from the history of the period, that these sentences formed a genuine, literal, historic account of certain events which transpired in England in the year 1850. This, of course, would of itself be sufficient to make ten Dr. Dickkopfs turn to and prove the contrary; and any one of them, I imagine, might, and probably would, thus reply. Excuse his clumsy style. He would say:-- "'That there may have been, and very probably was, some nucleus of fact which may have served as a groundwork for these pseudo-historical memorials, is not denied: but to regard that document of which it is professedly a condensation as a genuine record of the period in question, can only, we conceive, be the infelicity of an essentially uncritical mind. Most evidently, whether we regard the known events and relations of that age (as far as they have come down to us) or the internal characteristics of the document itself, we discover unequivocal traces of an unhistoric origin. Let us look at both these sources of evidence in order. If we mistake not, the document, even as it now stands, bears on its very front, that the original document, so far from being a literal description of the events of the time to which it professedly related, was allegorical, or at most historico- allegorical, and most likely designed broadly to caricature and satirize some perceived tendencies or conditions of the English religious development in certain parties of that age. But whether it be, or be not, reducible to the class of allegorieo-ecclesiastico- political satire, certainly no person of critical discernment can for a moment allow it to be a literal statement of historic events. And first to look at the internal evidence. "'Is it possible to overlook the singular character of the names which everywhere meet us? They, in fact, tell their own tale, and almost, as it were, proclaim of themselves that they are allegorical. Wiseman, Newman (two of them, be it observed), Masterman, Philpotts, Wilde. Who, that has been gifted with even a moderate share of critical acumen, can fail to see that these are all fictitious names, invented by the allegorist either to set forth certain qualities or attributes of certain persons whose true names are concealed, or, as I rather think, to embody certain tendencies of the times, or represent certain party characteristics. Thus the name "Wiseman" is evidently chosen to represent the proverbial craft which was attributed to the Church of Rome; and Nicholas has also been chosen (as I apprehend) for the purpose of indicating the sources whence that craft was derived. In all probability the name was selected just in the same manner as Bunyan in his immortal Pilgrim's Progress (which still delights the world) has chosen "Worldly Wiseman" for one of his characters. It is said that he was a Spaniard: but who so fit as a Spaniard to be represented as the agent of the Holy See? while, as there never was a Spaniard of that name, every one can see that historic probability has not been regarded. The word "Newman" again (and observe the significant fact that there were two of them) was, in all probability, I may say certainly, designed to embody two opposite tendencies, both of which, perhaps, claimed, in impatience of the effete humanity of that age (a dead and stereotyped Protestantism), to introduce a new order of things. These parties (if I may form a conjecture from the document itself) were essaying to extricate the mind of the age from the difficulties of its intellectual position; an age, asserting inconsistently, on the one hand, the freedom of spiritual life, and, on the other, claiming for the Bible an authorized supremacy over all the phenomena of that spiritual life. One of these parties sought to solve this difficulty by endeavoring to resuscitate the spirit of the past; the other, by attempting to set human intellect and consciousness free from the yoke of all external authority. In all probability the names were suggested to the somewhat profane allegorico-satitical writer by that text in the English version, "Put on the Newman," the new man of the spirit. We are almost driven to this interpretation, indeed, by the extreme and ludicrous improbability of two men--brothers, brought up at the same university--gradually receding, pari passu, from the same point in opposite directions, to the uttermost extreme; one till he had embraced the most puerile legends of the Middle Ages, the other, till he had proceeded to open infidelity. Probably such a curious coincidence of events was never heard of since the world began; and this must, at all events, be rejected. "'Similar observations apply to the name Masterman, which, in ancient English, was applied to him who was not a "servant" or "journeyman," and is not unfitly used to indicate collectively the assemblage of wealthy merchants who, like those of Tyre, were "princes"; as well as to imply that the powerful class to which they belonged were the "Mastermen" in the country, and, in fact, spoke in a potential voice in all such crises as that supposed. It might also, perhaps, be designed obliquely to intimate, that, 'whatever the clergy and the theologians of different parties might wish to realize, it was, after all, the powerful and independent class of the laity who were the "mastermen," and would not succumb to any spiritual guides whatever, even though called by the specious names of Wisemen and Newmen. The mere singularity of the names alone ought to decide the point. And what further confirms our view is, that it is impossible to point out any Englishmen of any distinction who ever had any of these names. Here we do not argue from conjecture, after merely looking into the most recent biographical repertories (as, for example, the "Bibliotheca Clarisimorum Virorum," in three hundred and fifty volumes folio); for it is no argument that this meagre collection makes no mention of any such names; since, in the successive compilations of such works, (as the world grows older,) it has been found necessary to extrude from time to time thousands of lesser names, which had twinkled in preceding ages. But, deeply anxious to establish truth, we have at infinite pains caused to be fished up, from the depths of the archives of our national museums, very rare reprints of some of the works of the age nearest that in which these events are said to have occurred, and in none of these works is there an individual mentioned of the name of Newman or Masterman, and only one comparatively obscure person of the name of Wiseman,--a presumptive proof that they were fictitious names. Is it possible that these curious and varied coincidences can be the mere effect of chance?' "I shall spare you," said Harrington, "Dr. Dickkopf's learned etymological disquisitions on the names Wilde and Philpotts, which, aided by the imputed 'rashness' of the one, and the 'intoxicated zeal' of the other, he clearly demonstrated to be fictitious. "After which, I will suppose him to proceed thus:-- 'We presume we have said enough to convince any acute and candid mind of the extreme improbability of the document being designed to convey to posterity a literal statement of facts; not that we for a moment think it necessary to suppose that any evil design actuated the writer, whoever he might be. It was most likely intended, as we have already said, to be an allegorico-political caricature of certain events which did undeniably occur, and which formed a slender basis of historic fact on which to found it. "'Nor is the particularity of some of the dates and alleged circumstances of much weight in our judgment. He must be a miserable inventor of fiction indeed, who cannot clothe a narrative in some verisimilitude of this kind. It is said, that the historian makes a seeming reference to those who were living at the very time. "Some," he says, "still survive." But who does not see that the word "survive" may refer to the accounts (which he, it appears, knew little how to interpret), not the persons; though, be it observed, that on such a supposition he does not vouch for having seen them, and may have spoken merely from report. This very clause, too, has undeniably much the appearance of an interpolation. There are many other little circumstances, which, to those who have been accustomed to detect unhistoric characteristics in ancient documents, and to draw a sharp line between the mythic or allegoric and the historic, sufficiently proclaim the origin of this supposed narrative of facts. "'But the internal evidence, conclusive as it is, is as nothing to the external. If we examine the document by the light of the facts which contemporary history supplies, nay, even by the probability or otherwise of its own contents, we shah see the extreme absurdity of supposing that the account from which it was borrowed was ever meant to be a record of facts. We hesitate not to say, that the political facts of which it makes mention are many of them in the highest degree incredible. That there may have been a rebellion at Rome is very possible; but assuredly the only nation in Europe, (if we except England,) that was not likely to take the Pope's part against a republican movement, or resent him on his throne, was the French. To suppose them thus acting is contrary to all that we know of the history of that nation, and of human nature. The traces of the terrible revolutions which in that century, and at the close of the preceding one, shook France again and again to her centre, and the outlines of which still live in authentic history, all show the extent to which infidelity and democratic violence prevailed in France; nay, we know that during the dominion of the Emperor Napoleon, if we are to regard his history as literally true, and not a collection of fables and legends,* as some even of that age maintained, that great conqueror arrested and imprisoned the Pope. That France should have undertaken the task of subduing a republican movement, just when she had come out of a similar revolution, or rather many such,--and of reseating the Pope on his throne, when she had been more impatient of the restraints of all religion than any other nation in Europe,--is perfectly incredible! Not less improbable is it that, supposing (as may perhaps be true) that there was a basis of fact in the asserted rebellion of the Romans, and Pio Nono's restoration to his dominions (though not by France, that the intelligent reader will on politico-logical grounds pronounce impossible, but more probably by the Spaniards),--yet can we suppose that a power which was always celebrated for its astuteness and subtlety would choose that very moment of humiliation and ignominy to rush into an act so audacious as that of reestablishing the Romish hierarchy in England,--in a nation by far the most powerful in the world at that time,--a nation which, if it had pleased, could have blown Rome into the air in three months? It must needs have strengthened a thousand-fold the strong antipathies of the English to the See of Rome. It would, indeed, have justified that storm of indignation with which it is said to have been met. ____ * Dr. Dickkopf may be here supposed to refer to the "Historic Doubts" of Archbishop Whately, which may well deceive even more astute critics.--Ed. ____ "'There is much that is palpably improbable in many other parts of the statement (simple as it seems to be) when submitted to the searching spirit of modern criticism. How ridiculous is the story of Cardinal Wiseman's pretending that the oath in receiving the Pallium had been modified for his convenience; little less so, indeed, than his challenge to his Presbyterian antagonist to examine it, and that, too, in the very book in which the contested clause was not cancelled! All this is such a maze of absurdity, that it is impossible to believe it. In the first place, do we not know that, throughout the whole history of the Papal power, the inflexible character, not only of its doctrines, but of its official forms and solemnities, was always maintained, and that this pertinacity was continually placing it at a disadvantage in the contest with the more flexible spirit of Protestantism? It would not renounce, in terms or words, the very things which it did renounce in deeds, and never could prevail upon itself to get over this unaccommodating spirit! Yet here we are to believe that, at the Cardinal's request a certain part of a most solemn ceremonial--that of receiving the Pallium was remitted by the Pope! If it were so, the Cardinal would certainly have desired to conceal it. If he could not have done that, he would, at least, never have given so easy a triumph to his adversary as to challenge him to inspect the very copy of the Pontifical, in which, after all, the oath was not cancelled, in order that he might be satisfied that it was! Who can believe that a Cardinal of the Romish Church, Wiseman or fool, would have been simple enough for such a step as this? It is plain that the historian himself was not unaware that such an objection would immediately suggest itself, and endeavors to guard against it,--a suspicious circumstance in itself--which may serve to warn us how little we can depend on the historic character of the document. "'Again; what can be more improbable, than that, when a great nation was convulsed from one end to the other, as the English are said to have been, there should have been no violence, not even accidentally, attending those huge and excited assemblages; a thing so natural, nay, so certain! Who can believe that only one man was sacrificed, and he on the predominant side? I have discovered in my laborious researches on this important subject, that only seventy years before, when a cry of the same nature, but much less potent, was raised, London was filled with conflagration and blood-shed. Who ever heard, indeed, of commotion such as this is pretended to have been, and its ending in vox et praeterea nihil? "'It is superfluous to point out the absurdity of supposing a Cardinal of the Romish Church lecturing the people of England on "the claims of religious liberty"; or so great a nation, in such a paroxysm, spending many months in the concoction of a measure confessed to be a feeble one, and suffered to be broken with impunity! "'But, lastly, my laborious researches have led to the important discovery, that, in this very year of pretended hot commotion, England--in peace with all the world, profound peace within and profound peace without--celebrated a sort of jubilee of the nations, in a vast building of glass (wonderful for those times), called the Great Exhibition, to which every country had contributed specimens of the comparatively rude manufacture--of that rude age! London was filled with foreigners from all parts of the earth; the whole kingdom was in a commotion, indeed, but a commotion of hospitable festivity, in which it shook hands with all the world! This is a piece of positive evidence which ought to settle the whole matter. In short, the external and internal evidence alike warrants us in rejecting this absurd story as utterly incredible.'" "Upon my word," said young Robinson, "you have said more than I thought you could have said on such a theme. I really almost doubt whether Dr. Dickkopf has not the best of it, and whether we ought not to agree that the 'Papal Aggression' is a sheer delusion." "O," said Harrington, "I have mot given you half the arguments by which an historian, eighteen hundred years hence, might prove that what has actually occurred never could have occurred, and that what has not occurred must, in the very nature of things, have occurred, by a necessity alike political, historical, ethical, logical, and psychological. And no doubt Dr. Dickkopf is right on the principles on which acute critics may argue; that is, the assumption that certain probabilities will justify conclusions on such subjects. One might naturally have supposed the Pope to have been more politic than to take this step,--the French more consistent than to suppress the Republican movement of Italy,--the English less moderate in expressing their indignation,--and certainly that there would never have been such an array of odd names to garnish one brief document. And now, I bethink me, it is far from impossible that some Dr. Dickkopf may even apply to Strauss's Leben Jesu, and Dr. Whately's 'Historic Doubts' similar reasoning, to prove that the first was elaborate irony, and the second a sincere expression of scepticism." "How can that be?" "Thus: he will prove that the age was remarkably fond of such species of ironical literature. As Strauss, in his preface, has expressly admitted (though we all know what he means) that Christianity is true, and has suggested an unimaginably absurd hypothesis as to its true import, founded on the principles of the Hegelian philosophy, the learned Dr. Dickkopf will say, that no one who so spoke of Christianity could have intended seriously to discredit it, and yet certainly could not possibly believe the absurd theory of it concocted out of German philosophy; ergo, that we must regard the whole book as a piece of prolonged irony,--a little too characteristic of German pedantry, it is true, but sincerely designed to expose that extravagance of historic criticism and Biblical exegesis which had so distinguished the author's countrymen, by which Homer had been annihilated, a great part of ancient history rendered doubtful, and the Bible turned into a riddle-book; that this hypothesis is confirmed by the space which Strauss gives to the exposure of the absurdities of the Rationalists, which, in fact, occupies at least half his work. Dr. D. will even very likely prove that Strauss himself is a fictitious name; Strauss, in the German, meaning an ostrich, which, according to the proverb, can digest any thing. On the other hand, as he will be able to show that Strauss's work is a piece of prolonged irony, he will very likely show that Whately's 'Historic Doubts' may be a sincere expression of opinion (which, in fact, many have even in our day wisely believed it to be), and he will argue it with a gravity worthy of one of the commentators who interpret the irony of Socrates literally; he will prove it from the air of sobriety and sincerity which pervades the pamphlet. Nay, for aught I know, he may show that there was an 'historic place' for such a piece in the undoubted myths to which the wondrous achievements of Napoleon had given rise; he will say that these had produced a natural feeling of scepticism as to the greater part of the facts, though he will think Dr. Whately has gone a little too far in doubting his very existence; there being sufficient evidence that such a man as Napoleon existed, though the world really knows little more about him than about Semitamis or Genghis Khan!" "Well," said I, "having proved that Dr. Strauss's work is irony, and Whately's brochure a sincere expression of opinion, it would be hard for even Dr. Dickkopf to go further. But, seriously, it is no laughing matter. This is a strange power the future historian has over us." "O, be assured," said Harrington, "he can make of us just what he pleases. Never was a question more unreasonable than that of the Irishman, who, being conjured, on some occasion, to think of posterity, said, 'I should like to know what posterity has done for us.' It will do something for us, depend upon it. A future historian will not only make us confess, with the Prayer-Book, 'that we have done the things we ought not to have done, and have left undone the things we ought to have done,' but 'that we have done the things that we have not done, and have left undone the things that we have done.'" "I wonder," said I, "that some of Dr. Strauss's countrymen have not proved him to be an imaginary being,--a myth. It were very easy to do it on such principles." "It has been done long since," said Harrington, "by Wolfgang Menzel." "Thank you," said I, in conclusion, "you have clearly proved that a true history may plausibly be shown to be false." "And therefore, my dear uncle, you will, I hope, justify my scepticism in all such matters," said he archly. I acknowledge, as Socrates says, that I felt for a moment as if I had received a sudden blow, and hardly knew what to say. "No," said I at last, "unless you can justify Dr. Strauss's theory of historical criticism, of which you yourself acknowledge you have doubts. With that any thing may be proved false; meantime it appears that the facts to which it is applied may be undoubtedly true." ____ On retiring to my chamber, I mused for some time on the facility with which man's ingenuity or inclinations can pervert any facts which he resolves shall be otherwise than they are. "Dubious as is the EVIDENCE," Harrington was fond of saying, "I distrust the Judas still more"; an admission, I told him, of which I should one day remind him. Tired at last of this unpleasant theme, I took up a volume of Leibnitz's Theodicee, which happened to lie on the table, and read those striking passages towards the conclusion in which he represents Theodore (reluctant to accept the iron theory of necessity) as privileged with a peep into a number of the infinite possible worlds; from which he has the satisfaction of seeing that, bad as is the lot of Sextus in the best of all possible worlds, that lot, Sextus being what he is, could not possibly be any better; a queer consolation, by the way, till we know why Sextus must be what he is, or why Sextus must be at all. I sank off to slumber in my chair, no doubt under the soporific effects of this metaphysical morphine. While I slept, the previous discussions of the day and the dose of Theodicee operating together suggested a very strange dream, which I shall here record. It shall be entitled THE PARADISE OF FOOLS. Methought I saw a grave and very venerable old man with a long white beard enter my chamber, and quietly seat himself opposite to me. Instead of asking who he was and how he came there, nothing seemed more natural and proper. We all know how easily in dreams the mind dispenses with all ceremony; little or no introduction is required; every one is at once on a most delightful footing of familiarity with all the world; and the greatest possible incongruities appear just comme il faut. He told me that he had come from a very curious part of the "best of all possible worlds,"--the "Paradise of Fools"; and on my looking surprised, said,-- "Are you ignorant, then, that there is a spot in the universe where a vicegerent of the Deity has at his disposal unlimited power and wisdom to enable him to comply with the somewhat whimsical conditions of the theories of those wonderful philosophers who have taken upon them to say how the universe might have been constructed without any supreme or presiding intelligence at all; or have modestly suggested, that, had they been consulted, certain notable improvements might have been effected in its fabrication or government; or, lastly, who have complained of the revelation which God has vouchsafed to man, or contended, that, if true, it might have been more unexceptionably framed, and more skilfully promulgated?" "And what is the result?" I asked. "The result is a part of 'the everlasting shame and contempt' which are the heritage of impiety." "There must have been enough for the said vicegerent to do," I remarked. "Not so much as you imagine," said he, smiling. "The conditions of their theories, so far as even omniscience can comprehend or omnipotence realize them, are indeed exactly complied with; but nevertheless, they often baffle both. Sometimes the reproof, thus implied, obliquely strikes more than its immediate objects; it alights even on some of the profoundest philosophers, who never had it in their thoughts to call in question the infinite superiority of Divine Power and Wisdom, but who have delivered themselves a little too positively about 'monads' and 'atoms,' and ultimate constituents of the universe. They have sometimes been not a little scandalized, as well as laughed at, when some half-witted, muddle-headed followers, glad to escape their trial, pretended to have founded systems of Pantheism, or what is just the same thing, Atheism, on some of their too obscure definitions. One man declared that he could do nothing without the Monads of Leibnitz, each of which, says that philosopher, 'is a mirror representing the universe, though obscurely, and knows every thing, but confusedly,' which last clause is unexceptionable enough. Another rogue asked for the archetypes of Plato,--he had had a notion, he said, that a good deal might be made out of them without Plato's Demiurgus; another, for the constituents of the vital automata of Descartes: he had been misled to believe, that, if animals could be mechanically produced, the whole universe might have been so produced also. The Archangel assured them and others, with much politeness, that, if the philosophers in question could in any way make their meaning intelligible, Heaven would do its poor best to realize their conceptions; but that it was impossible for even omnipotence to execute commands which even omniscience could not comprehend. "Similarly, one man requested that he might be provided with a little of Aristotle's 'Eternal Matter,' but he was told that there was no such thing in rerum natura, and that it was unfortunately too late to make it. He seemed to think himself very unjustly treated. Another demanded some of the Atoms of Epicurus, to make a slight experiment with; unexceptionably spherical, invisible, and so forth. These, he was told, he might be accommodated with; and that all he had to do was to shake them long enough, and doubtless the fortuitous jumble would come out at last a miniature world. "Above all, there were several German philosophers, who, having founded various physical theories, more or less extensive, on the perspicuous metaphysics of their countrymen, were confident that, if they had not hit on the modes which Supreme Wisdom had adopted, their modes were yet very excellent modes; and they were absolutely clamorous that their experiments should begin. But, alas! many of them stood but little chance of being ever tried, for the very same reason which prevented the disciple of Leibnitz from obtaining his 'Monads'; their authors could not make their meaning intelligible to the delegated omniscience. As to some of the metaphysicians, since their theories embraced nothing less than the evolution of the 'totality' of the universe, the 'infinite' and the 'absolute' included, it was of course impossible that they could be tried. But it was thought an appropriate punishment for them to be condemned to write on till they had made their meaning intelligible. Some have labored with incredible industry to comply with this very reasonable request, but their notions seem to grow darker and darker at every step; and one in particular has written a huge folio, in which, by universal consent of men and angels, there is not the smallest glimmer of meaning from one end to the other. Another even complains in private of the want of philosophical genius in the court of celestial criticism, and declares that in Germany they could have constructed ten theories of the universe and given twenty solutions of the 'infinite' and the 'absolute' in the time he has been vainly endeavoring to explain his meaning to personages so deplorably deficient in metaphysical acumen." He was going on with some other details of the hapless philosophers. "I would much rather hear from you," said I, "for it is a subject in which I take a far deeper interest, how those have sped who have objected to the Revelation with which God has favored man, on the ground that it cannot be true, else it would have been more unexceptionably framed or more wisely promulgated. I take it for granted that these have not been destitute of opportunities of trying their experiment." "Surely not," replied my new acquaintance. "'The Paradise of Fools' is well stocked with creatures of this description. Many of the experiments which required time to test them were commenced hundreds of years ago, and are completed. Others are still unfinished while there have been many which required only to be commenced and they were completed instantly, to the confusion of their authors." "I should much like," said I, "to hear an account of some of these experiments." "Willingly," answered he; "only you must bear in mind that they were all to be performed under certain limitations, without which no revelation which God can give to man would be of the slightest value." He then informed me, that the evidence afforded must not be such as to annihilate the conditions on which man is to be made virtuous and happy, if he is to be made so at all. It must not be inconsistent with the exercise of either his reason or his faith, nor prevent the play of his moral dispositions, nor triumph by mere violence over his prejudices; it must not operate purely upon the passions or the senses, nor overhear all possibility of offering resistance,--as would be the case, for example, if a man were placed on the edge of a precipice, and told that he would immediately be thrown over it if he transgressed the rules of temperance or chastity. The happiness, he said, which God originally designed for his intelligent and moral creatures was a voluntary happiness, springing out of the well-balanced and well-directed activity of all the principles of their nature. Any revelation, therefore, must proceed on the same basis, both as regards itself and the mode in which it is given. Arguments and motives morally sufficient, but not more than sufficient, must be addressed to the intellect and the conscience. All this is necessary to render the felicity and perfection of man stable and permanent; for without such a trial, triumphantly sustained, he would have no security that, in the presence of objects which tend to exert an overpowering influence on his senses or his feelings, he might not at some period of the unknown future be impelled to take a wrong path, and err and be miserable. This ordeal, originally designed for man and not superseded by revelation, must be continued long enough to render the principles on which he ought to act practical habits; after which he may go forth (sublime and glorious privilege!) to any part of this world, or of any world to which God may call him, master of himself and his destiny; not afraid lest temptations should warp him from a steadfastness that is founded on the decisions of an inflexible will, itself directed by enlightened intelligence and moral rectitude; in a word, in possession of the appropriate and alone appropriate happiness of an intellectual and moral agent; an image of the felicity of the great Creator himself. This condition, he said, of giving a revelation, so far from being a hardship, is not only in harmony with the nature of things, but is itself an expression of the Divine Beneficence; which designed for man no casual, precarious safety, as the result of transient external violence to the principles of his nature, but a permanent and inviolable equilibrium of the powers within him. "Heaven itself," he concluded, "can be heaven only to those who are internally prepared for it." "Were there many," I cried, "who were willing to make the experiment of giving a revelation more unexceptionably than it has been given, on the proposed conditions?" "Not very many, as you may well suppose," said he; "but if objectors had been unwilling, they would have been compelled to make it." "But upon whom were the experiments to be made?" said I; "for unless they were beings of the same intellectual and moral condition as themselves, I see not how aught could come of it." "O, be satisfied," he replied; "the beings who are provided for these Projectors are as like the inhabitant of your world as one egg is like another. They are men themselves; communities made up of those who have lived in your world, and who have gone out of it with the same thoughts, passions, and emotions as they had on earth; many of them having rejected or disregarded the true revelation, and others never having had that revelation to reject. Of course they are ignorant, in this intermediate state, of the tricks which these experimenters play with them, till they are concluded; but in rejecting the new revelations, many of them reject the very conditions of belief which when on earth they said would have been sufficient, while the result in those who make the experiment and in those on whom the experiment is made is to 'vindicate the ways of God to man.'" There is a wonderful power in getting over trifling difficulties in our dreams, or I should certainly have demurred to some parts of this statement. Instead of that, I let my mind, as usual in such cases, dwell on a point which was no difficulty at all. "If," said I, "they are dead, they are probably very different beings from what they were when alive." "And do you think," said he, with an unpleasant half-sneer, "that mere change of place makes any difference in man, or that the merely physical effects of death operate a magical change on his intellect, affections, emotions, and volitions, or can render him a more reasonable creature than he was before?" "I did not mean exactly that," said I; "but surely it is not possible that the soul without the body can be exactly like the soul with it." "Have not your philosophers," said he, "often founded, or pretended to found, scepticism on the argument that it is difficult to tell whether life itself may not be a series of illusions like those in dreams? Have they not even declared, that, as in dreams all seems to be real, so in their waking moments all may be no more than a dream? nay, have not some said that it is impossible to tell which is the real and which the dreaming part of their existence?" "There have been such," said I, "but I never knew any one convinced by their reasoning." "Perhaps not," he answered, "but it may be of use to show you, that in that intermediate state men may, as in dreams, be capable of a series of thoughts and emotions exactly similar to what they experienced in this world; quite as vivid, and," he added with a quiet smile, "perhaps as rational." "But they must be more coherent than those which now visit our slumbers," said I. "It is hardly worth while to contend about the difference," he replied, with a sarcastic expression which I did not much like. "It is sufficient to say, however, that these projectors have no reason to complain; for with whatever show of reason men think or act here, so under exactly the same laws of thought and emotion do those shadows act there." "But I, who am now awake and perfectly sensible--" He laughed outright. "Are you so sure," said he, "that you are awake. How do you know it?" "Because I am conscious of it," said I. "And this too, I suppose, is a philosopher," he muttered to himself. "Well," he continued aloud, "we must not discuss these matters just now; you must believe me when I say that the communities to which our experimenters go to work, on their own hypotheses, are just as capable of ingenious reasoning and impartial and candid deliberation, as you are now in your present waking moments. You wish to hear a few of these experiments?" I nodded. "Well, then, first, there was one worthy philosopher, who, having seen the advantages which infidelity has gained from the discrepancies and other difficulties occasioned by the varied testimonies which the evangelical historians have left behind them, resolved, after having wrought a number of splendid miracles (uniformly affirmed and never denied by the parties in whose presence they were performed), that they should all be consigned to one single history., so admirably constructed that there was not a single discrepancy from beginning to end." "And what was the effect?" "Why, in the first place, you must recollect that, according to that or any other mode of authenticating a divine communication by miracles, there were a great many more of those who never saw the miracles than of those who did; for if miracles had been common, they would have ceased to be miracles. There were vast numbers, therefore, who, even in the age in which they were performed, never believed them; but, what is more, in four generations there was not a soul that did not treat them as old wives' fables." "Surely they were very unreasonable," I said. "Not at all; it was inevitable; for it was asked (and every one assented to it), whether it was reasonable that a story so marvellous, and so contrary to experience, should be believed on any single testimony, however unexceptionable? There were also keen critics who said, that, as there was proof that in the very age in which the miracles were wrought there were many who did not believe the message which they professedly confirmed, it was a strong indication that the whole was a fiction; while some others of still greater acumen discovered that the very freedom from all discrepancies and contradictions in the account itself smelt very strongly of art and design; that this perfection of consistency was not the characteristic of any history ever written by an honest man, and that no doubt it had been elaborately contrived by a single highly inventive mind." "The idiots!" I exclaimed. "Why, this very circumstance ought surely to have led them to argue the other way." "They thought otherwise; and I must say I think they argued very plausibly, and that very much is to be said for them. They thought that perfect self-consistency might possibly be obtained by a single mind of highly inventive power, and they preferred believing that, to receiving such wonderful things supported by any single testimony." "But did none attempt to remedy this defect of the unhappy speculator?" "O, yes; another attempted to establish in a second community of our reasonable shadows a revelation on the same basis of miracles; but instead of trusting to one witness, he recorded the results by ten; and with such perfection of art, that all the ingenuity of all the critics of succeeding ages could not detect a single variation other than in language; the records themselves and their contents were precisely the same. "And what was the result." "Much the same as before; for this identity of substance and almost of manner showed most evidently, said the critics, that there had been collusion between the several parties who had framed the revelation:--and in the course of three or four generations it was universally rejected, as totally unworthy of belief." "I see not, then, how a revelation by any such means could be authenticated at all?" "Why, our reasonable creatures require a great deal of management, --that is the truth. There is no way in which you cannot prove to your own satisfaction, that no one of any divine communications (given under the conditions aforesaid) is to be believed; but perhaps after all, the method would have been more sure, had these sages confined these communications to different testimonies, in which the general harmony and undesigned coincidences should be manifest, but which should contain slight discrepancies, and even some apparent contradictions, which the parties, if there had been collusion, would certainly have obviated. This would, perhaps, have been the best guaranty that there could not be any fraud in the case." "But this," I remarked, "was just the mode in which the Gospels of Christ were consigned to mankind." "And you see with what mixed result. It was sufficient, indeed, to justify the method, if it was attended with less disastrous effects than any other mode. For it is a problem of limits even at the very best." Prompted, I suppose, by some recollection of Woolston's opinion, that the miracles of Jesus Christ would have been better worthy of attention, and more likely to be credited by posterity, if they had been performed on royal or notable public characters, or in their presence, I felt curious to know if any one had been determined to guard against a similar error. I was told that there had been; and for a time every thing went on well. This sage's doctrine and pretensions were rapidly propagated within certain limits of space and time. But alas! while even in his lifetime the zeal of some of the royal or noble converts caused the doctrine to be regarded with considerable suspicion among the rival great, to whom the fame of the miracles was known only by hearsay, its early success proved an insurmountable objection in a few generations; for several learned infidels showed to the satisfaction of the entire community, that the pretended revelation could have been nothing else than a conspiracy of crafty statesmen for political purposes. It was sagely remarked, that it was not wonderful that a doctrine had been believed, and had rapidly diffused itself, which had all the prestige of rank, and power, and statesmanship in its favor; that if, indeed, it had appeared amongst the poor and ignorant portion of mankind, and the had been witnessed by such as from their situation were rather likely to be persecuted by the great and powerful than to be favored by them; and lastly, if the pretended revelation had vanquished such resistance instead of being suspiciously allied with it, something more might be said in its behalf; but as it was, the whole thing was evidently--a lie. "Really," said I, "it seems a more difficult thing for God to make known his will to mankind than I had supposed." "It is," said he, "on those conditions to which his wisdom for man's own sake has restricted him, and apart from which condition I have already stated that a revelation would be worthless. It is a far more difficult matter than those who have not reflected upon the subject would suppose, and you would have more reason to say so still, if you knew, as I do, how ludicrously, as well as how utterly, many other attempts have failed." He then amused me with an account of a sage, who, seeing the ill consequences which had followed from the very local or limited character of miracles (when a few generations had passed by), resolved to remedy this by a series of wonders so stupendous and magnificent, that the very echo of them, as it were, should reverberate through the hollow of future ages, and so impress all tradition as to render them independent of the voice of individual historians. He accordingly passed to the very extreme limit (if he did not go beyond it) by which a miracle is necessarily restricted,-- that of not disturbing general laws. He succeeded perfectly in the place in which these phenomena were witnessed; though, as there were multitudes who knew nothing of the operator, but were only conscious that nature was playing some strange pranks, no connection was established in their minds between the doctrine and the miracles. But the consequences in the future were the direct contrary of what the sanguine philosopher had contemplated. If the impression of those who saw these splendid wonders could have been prolonged, all had been well; but so far from the report of them conciliating the regard of posterity, their very grandeur and vastness were the principal arguments against them, and condemned them to universal rejection. Who could believe, men said, that phenomena so strange and so portentous--not only so different from, and so contrary to, the uniform course of nature, but so much beyond the limited purpose which must have been contemplated by a truly miraculous interposition--had ever happened? If they had been single events, very transient and local disturbances of the laws of nature for a high object, the case, they candidly avowed, would have been wholly different; but such wholesale infractions of the fixed laws of the universe were at once to be summarily rejected. They were unquestionably the offspring of an age of fable and superstition. It did not fare much better with another miracle-monger of the same species. In one community, which he had engaged to instruct in the mysteries of his revelation, the wonders he wrought extended to such large classes of phenomena, and for a time were so constant, that they ceased to be miracles at all. As he could not add ubiquity to his other attributes, few attached any importance to his declaration that he was the author of such vast and distant operations, and fewer absolutely believed him. Moreover, men became accustomed to phenomena which they daily witnessed; for such, it seems, is the constitution of human nature in any world, that things cease to be wonderful when they cease to be novel. Were it otherwise, men would be always wondering; for no miracles are more wonderful than the phenomena of every day in every part of the universe. Not a few wise men, therefore, in this community, succeeded in giving a perfectly plausible account of these wholesale infractions of the uniformity of nature. Nature, it was said, was unquestionably uniform, but only in the several larger portions of her operations; that within certain cycles she varied her operations, as was clearly seen in the introduction of new races, and so forth; that the generation which had just witnessed such departures from what seemed the established order of things were doubtless living at an epoch in which the huge evolution of the universe was about to exhibit one of these new phases, and that the series of sequences to which they were just becoming accustomed would afterwards continue uniform for a number of ages; that such things were no miracles, but merely indicated that nature was, within certain limits, only variably uniform, though she was also, within certain limits, uniformly invariable. After this very clear deliverance of philosophy, few people troubled themselves about the claims of this seer, and were so fast getting accustomed to the new uniformity, that it seemed highly probable that the very next generation, or at most the second, would begin to prate in the old style about the invariable uniformity of nature, and to treat all the ancient order of things which their progenitors had seen changed as a lying fable of those remote ages. Enraged at such an unexpected result of his operations, the projector changed his plan, and broke in upon nature with such a startling explosion of single miracles, that there could be no longer any doubt that nature was neither 'variably uniform' nor 'uniformly invariable': the only question was, whether nature was not 'uniformly variable.' He set the sun spinning through the heavens at such a rate, or rather at such a jaunty pace, that no one knew when to expect either light or darkness; men now froze with cold, and now melted with heat; the seasons seemed playing one grand masquerade; the longest day and the shortest day, and no day at all, succeeded one another in rapid succession, and the whole universe seemed threatened with ruin and desolation. Now, he thought, was the time to put an end to all this strange disorder, and avow himself the great agent in all these marvels! But he found, to his chagrin, that, so far from having convinced men of the being and attributes of God, and of the truth of the revelation which he had brought them, they were never less disposed to listen to any such story; and, in fact, that the very few whose terror had left them at all in possession of their senses, had become perfectly convinced that the universe was under the dominion of Chance; and that the only orthodox belief in such a world was stark Atheism. As there will always be men who will speculate upon chance itself, there were not wanting philosophers who concocted admirable theories of all this disorder, but not one of them dreamed of the true. They all agreed, however, that the state of things admitted of no remedy from any gods, celestial or infernal; for if a divine artificer had existed, they said, it could not have occurred. And thus the miracles which were designed by this great man to convince the world of a God, served for a demonstration that there was and could be none! They equally served also to stifle the sage's claims to be considered God's messenger, for, unhappily exhorting a large crowd to believe that he was the cause of all the misery and terror which they had suffered, they were so exasperated that they took summary vengeance on him: upon which the sun resumed his wonted quiet pace again through the heavens, and every thing fell into the old harmonious jogtrot of uniformity. Philosophers who lived at a distance from the scene of the prophet's exit quietly adjusted their old theory to the new phenomena, and showed most conclusively that the whole train of things had been just what must necessarily have been, and could not but have happened, without the most serious consequences; while those who lived near to the scene aforesaid, and were privy to the circumstances, speculated upon the curious coincidence between the impostor's death and the return of nature to her order. It was well, they said, that such things did not happen often, or they could not fail to give rise to some superstitious notions as to some law of causation between ignorant fanaticism and the sublimest phenomena of the universe. I asked my visitor how it fared with the many who have objected to the clearness and force of prophecy, and who have not scrupled to assert, that, if prophecies had been given, they would have been given in such a shape as would have made their claims more plain, and their fulfilment more incontrovertible. "Were there none who relied on this mode of demonstrating the reality of a divine revelation, and manifesting their claims to be regarded as an embassy from heaven?" "Many," he replied, "so many that it were tedious to detail them. But you are quite mistaken if you suppose it possible that even God can employ any moral methods which man cannot evade; how much less the fools who think they can improve upon his! The wisdom of God," said he, with a melancholy smile, "is no match for the ingenuity of man. As to your present question, you know there have been persons who have continually complained in your world that prophecy is so obscure that the event cannot be certainly known to have been referred to by it, or else so plain that, ipso facto, it proves that the prediction must have been composed after the event. Now it was precisely in attempting the juste milieu between these extremes that our prophetical speculators wrecked themselves. Men always had it to say that their prophecies had been either too plain or too obscure; or, if very plain, and yet as plainly written before the event, that their very plainness had insured their own accomplishment by prompting to the very actions and conduct they so clearly indicated!" "I can easily conceive that," I answered. "But now for another problem. Not a few of our older infidels complained of the revelation in the Bible on the score that the maxims of conduct which it delivers are too general to be of any use, because the application of them is still left to be adjusted by a reference to particular circumstances; and that, if a revelation were framed, it ought to take in all the limitations of action, and furnish, in fact, a complete system of casuistry; otherwise it would be of no avail. Were there none who attempted this task?" "Five-and-twenty men," he answered, "who were destined to be a torment to one another, were instructed to compile such a system of rules, and publish them for the benefit of a certain community as an infallible rule of life." "And have they completed it?" "Completed it! They have been sitting now for two hundred years, and have not yet exhausted the infinitude of cases to be digested under their very first capitulary." He said that being all of them ingenious men, all anxious to show their ingenuity, and knowing that their credit was staked upon the completeness of their system, it was incredible what strange and ridiculous contingencies and combinations of circumstance they had suggested as modifying the application of their general rules. The books of law, voluminous as they are in most civilized countries, were conciseness itself compared with this new code of morals. It was thought by many, that the labors of the commissioners would not come to an end till long after the race for whose benefit it was designed had ceased to exist. Afraid, apparently, of such a direful contingency, they had published, about three years before, the first part, in seventy-five folio volumes, containing limitations, illustrative cases, exceptions, and modifications, in relation to that very obscure general maxim, 'Do unto others as ye would that others should do unto you.' All questions appertaining to this point were from that time to be decided by the precise statements contained in these statutes at large. But their mere publication sufficed to make an incredible number of infidels in the authority of the commission. Such a voluminous rule, they truly said, could be no rule at all, and could be fruitful of nothing but everlasting litigation. If (they admitted) general maxims had been as briefly as possible laid down, and men's common sense had been left to interpret and apply them with the requisite restrictions, there would be much more to be said for their divine origin. But on such a system, no man, if he lived for a thousand years, could tell what his duty was. Many complained that, before they found the rule for which they were in search, the time for its application had passed away. Many excused themselves from complying with the dictates of justice and charity, because they could not discover the cases that related to their special circumstances; some even denied that the rules could have been devised by heavenly wisdom, because, having carefully studied the whole of the seventy-five volumes, they did not hesitate to say, that there were many cases which had not been provided for at all! I was so amused with this last disastrous attempt to construct a revelation, that I laughed outright, and in so doing awoke. I found that my lamp was fast going out; so, dismissing the innocent volume of Leibnitz which had suggested all these incongruities, I went to bed; firmly convinced that the shadows of men in the "Paradise of Fools" are about as wise and ingenious as are men themselves. ____ July 28. I had this morning some curious, and, if it had not been for the grave importance of the subject, amusing conversation with Mr. Fellowes on his views, or rather his no views, respecting a "future life." He said he wished he could make up his mind whether the doctrine was true; also whether, as some of his favorite writers supposed, it was of no "spiritual" importance to decide it. I said it certainly did seem of some importance. I reminded him of Pascal's saying, that he could excuse men's contented ignorance with any thing rather than that. "They are not obliged," says he, "to examine the Copernican system; but it is vital to the whole of existence to ascertain whether the soul is mortal or not." "Mr. Newman," said Fellowes, "thinks very differently: but then his whole mind is differently constituted from Pascal's." I admitted it, of course. "Mr. Newman's views," he continued, "on the subject, certainly do not quite satisfy me; and yet they are very sublime. If he has any hope in this matter, (of which he appears not absolutely destitute,) it is from the sheer strength of a 'faith' which triumphs over all obstacles, or rather hangs upon nothing. He ridicules all intellectual proofs, and at the same time declares that his 'spiritual insight' deserts him. It is a faith pure from all reason, and from all 'insight' too. As to insight in this matter, I must agree with him, that, to ascertain the fact of a future life by 'direct vision,' is 'to me hitherto impossible.'" Harrington, who was sitting by, smiled: "You speak of your 'insight' and 'direct vision' much as a Highlander might talk of his 'second sight.' As to your present difficulty, do you remember the advice of Ranald of the Mist to Allan M'Aulay, when the 'vision' obstinately averted its face from him? 'Have you reversed your own plaid,' said Ranald, 'according to the rule of the experienced seers in such cases?' You do not wear a plaid, George, but suppose you try the experiment of turning your coat inside out." "Really, Harrington," said Fellowes, with becoming solemnity, "'insight' is far too serious a subject to joke upon." "Why, my dear fellow," said the other, "you do not think I am going to treat your 'insight' with more respect than we treat the Bible." "Odi profanum," said Fellowes, almost angrily. "No man hateth his own flesh," said Harrington, with provoking quiet; "and that, I am sure, is from no profane writer. As to the 'odi profanum,' why, I shall simply say, that 'You can quote it, With as much truth as he who wrote it.'" So saying, he left the room. I was not sorry that he was gone, as I thought perhaps Fellowes might be more communicative. I asked him why he felt Mr. Newman's arguments on this subject unsatisfactory; why he could not acquiesce in them. "In the first place, then," said he, "I was struck with the fact, that, while admitting that he had no 'spiritual insight' on the subject of a future life, he yet admits that others may have enjoyed what is impossible to him; that there may be souls favored with this 'vision,' though clouds obscure his own. It is true he has admitted (and indeed who can deny it?) that the spiritual faculty is not equally developed in all men;--though, as it is not, I feel some difficulty in rejecting the arguments hence arising for the possibility and utility of an external revelation;--yet at the best, if the faculty may be so uncertain in reference to so important a question, when consulted by so diligent and deep a student of its oracles as Mr. Newman, if even his soul may be dubious on such a point,--why, upon my soul, I sometimes hardly know what to think. Again, Mr. Newman says, that some may have, as by special privilege from God, what is denied to him. Now really this looks a little too much like favoring the vulgar view of inspiration, nay, a sort of Calvinistic 'election' in this matter; it seems to me to cast doubts both on the competency and the uniformity of the sublime 'spiritual faculty,' even when most sedulously consulted." "It does look a little like it," said I; "and what next?" "In the next place, I am free to confess, that, if I may be allowed to argue against such an authority--" "O, remember, I pray, that you are of the school of free thought: do not Bibliolatrize." "To state my views freely then: I must say, that, if this suspected doctrine be not one of the unsophisticated utterances of the spiritual nature of man, I am almost led to doubt whether the clearness with which the spiritualist 'gazes' on the rest may not possibly be an illusion. For if any truth would seem to be a dictate of nature, it is a sort of dim conviction or impression of a future state. We see it, in some shape or other, extensively believed by all nations, and forming a feature of all systems of religion, however degraded they may be. Mr. W. J. Fox mentions it as one of those things which are certainly characteristic of the absolute religion; so does Mr. Parker. Mr. Fox expressly affirms that the approximate universality of the belief justifies the application of his criterion for detecting the eternally 'true' under the Protean shapes of the 'false' in religion; it is one of the points, he says, in which they are all agreed." "Which," said I, "if true, is perhaps the only point in which all religions are agreed, unless we affirm that they have all recognized a Deity, because most of them have recognized thousands. Yet as men's Gods have varied between the Infinite Creator and a monkey, so in relation to this article of a 'future life,' it must be confessed that there is a little difference between the Heaven of a Christian, the Paradise of a Mahometan, and the Valhalla of an ancient Goth. Still, as you say, it is true that, in some shape or other, nations have more distinctly recognized the idea of an after existence, than any other assignable religious tenet." "You know," resumed Fellowes, "that in the draught of 'natural religion' given us by Lord Herbert, that writer particularly insists on this as one of the articles which nature itself teaches us, as amongst the 'common notions,' a sentiment innate to the human mind. Now if such masters as Mr. Newman may be in doubt about our innate sentiments, truly I scarcely know what to think." "You can easily decide," said I, gravely, "and decide infallibly." "How so?" "Consult that spiritual faculty which Mr. Newman says you have as well as he or Lord Herbert. If your theory be true, how can there be any doubt as to your 'innate' sentiments? If you say they are written in very small characters, and require to be magnified by somebody's microscope, that, recollect, is tantamount to acknowledging the possible utility of an external revelation. But what next?" "Well, then, if I must confess all the truth, I thought Mr. Newman hardly fair in his exhibition of Paul's reasoning on this matter. He, if you recollect, says that Paul seems to have rested the belief of Christ's resurrection very little upon evidence, which he received very credulously, upon very insufficient proof, and in a manner which would have moved the laughter of Paley; that, in short, he cared very little about the evidence, and arrived mainly at his convictions in virtue of his 'spiritual aspirations'; that it was rather his strong aspirations after immortality which made Paul believe the supposed fact, than the supposed fact which gave strength to his aspirations after immortality. Now it is very clear (from texts which, for whatsoever reasons, are not quoted by Mr. Newman), that the Apostle Paul made his whole argument depend on the alleged fact of Christ's resurrection, whether carelessly received or not: 'If Christ be not risen, then is your faith vain, and our preaching is also vain .... Then are we of all men most miserable.'" "But you recollect that Mr. Newman alleges that Paul deals very superficially with the evidence,--with that of the 'five hundred,' for example. He observes that Paley would have made a widely different matter of it." "See how variously men may argue," replied Fellowes, candidly. "I was talking on that very point with one of the orthodox the other day, and he reasoned in some such way as this:-- "On the supposition, he said, that the possession of miraculous powers was notorious in the Church,--that many of those whom Paul addressed had actually witnessed them,--that the Gospel, when preached by him and by the other Apostles, was confirmed by 'signs and wonders,'--nothing could be more natural than the very tone which the Apostles employed: that, so far from its being suspicious, it was one of the truest touches of nature and verisimilitude in their compositions; so much so, that, supposing there were no miracles, that very tone required itself to be accounted for as unnatural; he said that it is, in fact, just the way in which men talk and write of any other extraordinary events which notoriously happened in their time. They never think of posterity, and what it may think; of anticipating either future doubts or charges of fraud. It is natural that men should speak in this, as we should call it, loose way, of what is transpiring under their very noses. If, on the other hand, there had been no miracles to appeal to, so as to render this style as natural as, on the contrary supposition, it was the reverse, he could not, he said, imagine, that, in that or any other age, any men, especially men opposed to such pretensions, would so easily have been satisfied, even had the Apostles confined themselves to rumors of alleged distant miracles; but much less where similar wonders were said to have been brought under the eyes of the very parties to whom the appeal was made! He said he would even go a step further, and affirm that, under the circumstances of the professed notoriety of the miraculous occurrences to which Paul and the other Apostles appealed, any declaration that they had instituted that careful scrutiny of evidence, that minute circumstantial cross-examination of the witnesses,--which would be a course all very well in the days of Paley, eighteen hundred years after, but absolutely preposterous then,--would have appeared to our age a much more suspicious thing than the tone actually adopted; that the scrupulous deposition of technical proof would have been finessing too much, and would have been the strongest proof of collusion. The very tone objected to, he said, supposing there were no miracles, is one of the most striking proofs of the astonishing sagacity of these men; for it is just the tone they would have used if there had been. So differently may men reason from the same data! Whether (he concluded) Mr. Newman's view of the facts, or his, was founded on a deeper and more comprehensive knowledge of human nature, he must leave to my judgment." "I protest," said I, "I think the orthodox had the best of it. But what struck you next as unaccountable in Mr. Newman's view of this subject of a future life?" "I confess, then, that the reasoning by which he endeavors to show that, even admitting the fact of Christ's resurrection, there could be nothing in it to warrant the expectation of the resurrection of any other human beings, simply because he must have differed so stupendously from all the rest of mankind, appears to me very damaging to us. Of what use is it, to argue upon such an hypothesis?" "Of none in the world, certainly," said I, laughing. "Surely not," he replied; "for if Christ's resurrection be admitted, we know very well it will carry with it, in the estimation of the bulk of mankind, all the other great facts implicated with the Christian system. They will concede, at once, the supernatural character, the divine origin, of the New Testament. I suppose them scarcely ever was a man who admitted these premises who would trouble himself to contest the conclusion." "But seriously," continued this half-repentant admirer, almost frightened at the extent of his own freedom of thought, "though I cannot say I am satisfied with Mr. Newman's notions on this subject, --and, in fact, cannot make up my mind upon it,--can there be any thing morally more sublime than the view, that the doctrine of immortality, which has been superficially supposed, if not necessary, yet so conducive to sincere and elevated piety, may be readily dispensed with, as no way necessary (as Mr. Newman feels) for the spiritual nourishment of the soul? 'Confidence,' he says, 'there is none; and hopeful aspiration is the soul's highest state. But, then, there is herein nothing what ever to distress her; no cloud of grief crosses the area of her vision, as she gazes upwards.' He even intimates that, from the stress laid upon immortality by 'modern divines,' they might seem to be 'incarnations of selfishness.' He says it tends to 'degrade religion into a prudential regard for our interests after death'; that 'conscience, the love of virtue, for its own sake, and much more the love of God, are ignored.' Many of the 'spiritual' school agree with him in this; and some even affirm that the hope of immortal felicity is but a bribe to selfishness. Can any thing be more elevated or original than this view?" "As to the elevation," said I, "I confess I prefer the spectacle of Socrates, relying even on feeble arguments rather than sink to this tame acquiescence in a notion so degrading to the Deity, as that man was created for a dog's life with the tormenting aspiration for something better. The spectacle of the heathen sage, who, amidst the thick gloom, the 'palpable obscure,' which involved this subject, gazed intently into the darkness, and 'longed for the day,'--who strained every nerve of an insufficient logic, and was willing to take even the whispers of hope for the oracles of truth, rather than part with the prospect of immortality,--is, to my mind, much more attractive. As to the originality of the view you just expressed, why, it is merely a resurrection of one of the theories of some of our very 'spiritual deists' a century ago. Collins and Shaftesbury were, in like manner, apprehensive lest an elevated 'virtue' should suffer at all from this bribery of a hope of a 'blessed immortality'; as you may see in the Characteristics. For my own part, I certainly have my doubts whether virtue will be the less virtuous, or spirituality the less spiritual, for such a doctrine; and I must believe it even on the hypothesis of you spiritual folks; for you generally affirm that the Belief of a Future Life does not really exercise any thing more than an insignificant influence on human nature; the hopes and the fears of that so distant a morrow are too vague to be operative. Now, if it be so, immortality can be no more a bribe than a menace." "Yet," said Fellowes, "in justice to Mr. Newman, it must not be forgotten, that he thinks that 'a firm belief of immortality must have very energetic force,' provided it 'rises out of insight'; it is as 'an external dogma' that he thinks it of little efficacy. He says, you know, that, supposing Paul to have had this insight, 'his light can do us no good, while it is a light outside of us. If he in any way confused the conclusions of his logic (which is often extremely inconsequent and mistaken) with the perceptions of his divinely illuminated soul, our belief might prove baseless.' (Soul, pp. 226. 227.) These are his very words." "Very well, then; say that Mr. Newman thinks the notions of a future hell of little efficacy; and of a future heaven of as little, except when it rises from 'insight';--he confessing that he has not that 'insight,' and; from the necessity of the case, not knowing whether any body else has, it being a 'light outside him.' If so, I think he is much like the rest of you, and cannot in fact suppose the thought of a future life to operate strongly either as a bribe or a menace." "But, surely, whatever his views, or those of any individual, you must admit that a piety which is sustained without any hopes of immortality is less selfish than that which is." "Why," replied I, laughing; "I cannot conceive how the hope of a virtuous immortality can produce a vicious self-love. But if the hope and the consciousness of happiness now exercise any influence at all, your argument proves too much; and there is a simple impossibility of being unselfishly religious at all." "How so?" "Do you think that, admitting not only the uncertainty of any future life, but the certainty that there is none, and that nevertheless (as you affirm) man, under that conviction, is just as capable of manifesting a true devotion and piety towards God, any felicity flows from his so doing?" "The highest, of course," said he. "Do you think that the happiness so derived and expected from day to day has any sinister influence on the spiritual life of him who feels it?" "Of course, none." "The contrary, perhaps?" "I think so." "Then neither need the expectation of an eternity of such blessedness be any impediment. Again; let us come to facts; are not the declarations of those whom Mr. Newman, however oddly, is willing to admit have been the best specimens yet afforded of his true 'spiritual' man,--the Doddridges, the Fletchers, the Baxters, and Paul especially,--full of this sentiment? 'I desire to depart,' says Paul, 'and to be with Christ, which is far better'; and similar selfish hopes inspired those excellent men whose names still rise spontaneously to Mr. Newman's memory when he would remind us of examples of his 'spiritual religion! Tell me, do you not think Paul a 'spiritual' man?" "Yes; with all his blunders," said Fellowes, "I do; and Mr. Newman's writings are full of that admission." "Very true. But then Paul is so selfish, you know, as to say, not merely that the immortality of man is true, and that the 'light afflictions which are but for a moment' are to be despised, because unworthy 'to be compared with the glory to be revealed'; but that, if immortality be not true, Christians, as deluded in such hopes, are of all men most miserable. All this shows how powerfully the 'spiritual' Paul thought that the doctrine of a future state operated and ought to operate on the mind of a Christian; he never supposed that it could possibly have a negative, still less a sinister influence.' "But then, surely, what Mr. Newman says is true, that many of the saints of the Old Testament exemplified all the heroism of a true faith, and kindled with the ardors of a true devotion, in an ignorance of any such state, and the absence of all such expectations." "I answer, that Mr. Newman too often speaks as if his individual impressions were to be taken for demonstration. That the Old Testament is unpervaded by any distinct traces of expectations of a future life is, at all events, not the opinion of the majority of men, many of them at least as capable of judging as Mr. Newman. It is not the opinion of the writers of the New Testament, that the Old Testament worthies were in this deplorable darkness; nor of the majority of the Jewish interpreters of their ancestors' writings; nor is it the impression of the great majority of those who now read them. How it can be the opinion of any one who has not some hypothesis to serve, is to me a mystery. Meanwhile Mr. Newman himself at least gives some notable passages to the contrary, though he chooses to call them only personal aspirations. Think of the absurdity, my good friend, of supposing that Job, David, Isaiah, failed to realize a doctrine (imperfectly it may be) which, as you truly affirm, has, in some shape or other, animated all forms of religion! that these brightest specimens of 'spiritual religion' in the ancient world somehow missed what many of the lowest savages have managed to stumble upon!" "Well," he replied, "but, after all, he who loves God without any thought of heaven must surely be more unselfish than he who hopes for it." I laughed,--for I could not help it. "Unhappy Paul!" interjected Harrington, who had again entered the library; "unhappy Paul! Burdened with the hopes of immortality; what an impediment he must have found it in his Christian course! I wonder he did not throw aside 'this weight, which so easily beset him.' Pity that when he became a Christian, and ceased to be a Pharisee, he did not, like so many 'spiritual' Christians of our day, know that, when he became a Christian, he might still remain in one of the Jewish sects, and turn Sadducee." "Be it so," said Fellowes, "a Christian Sadducee, caeteris partibus, might perhaps be a more virtuous man having no hopes of heaven by which he can possibly be bribed." "Religious love and hope," said I, "will with difficulty exist in such an atmosphere as you create. It is a sublime altitude, doubtless, but no ordinary 'spiritual' beings can breathe that rarefied air. It is for the honor of Shaftesbury and some few other Deists, that they aspired to this transcendental virtue! You are imitating them. I fear you will not be more successful. Once leave a man to conclude, or even to suspect, that he and his cat end together, and, if a bad man, he will gladly accept a release from every claim but that of his passions and appetites (the effects being more or less philosophically calculated according to his intellectual power); while the best man would be liable to contemplate God and religion with a depressed and faltering heart. He would be apt to lose all energy; he would feel it impossible to repress doubts of the infinite wisdom and benignity of Him (whatever he might think of His power) who had given him the soul of a man and the life of a butterfly; conceptions and aspirations so totally disproportioned to the evanescence of his being! If, however, you really think that the hopes of an immortality of virtuous happiness will stand in the way of a sublime disinterestedness of spirituality, you ought to recollect that any expectation of happiness, even for a day, will, in its measure, have the same effect. So that the only way in which you can accommodate so 'spiritual a piety,' and absolutely insure yourself against 'spiritual bribery,' is to deprive yourself of all possibility of being so misled. If your piety would be absolutely sure that it loves God on these sublime terms, it should take care to neutralize the happiness which that love brings with it; so that, if God has not made you miserable, you should never fail, like the ascetics, to make yourself so. I fear you never can be perfectly 'spiritual' till you have made yourself supremely wretched. But to quit this point," I continued; "if immortality be a delusion, I fear we say that it covers the divine administration with an penetrable cloud,--one which we cannot hope will removed. The inequalities of that administration not be redressed." "But do you not recollect," replied Fellowes, reason Mr. Newman gives for despising any such mitigation? Does he not say, that it is a strange argument for a day of recompense, that man has unsatisfied claims upon God? He says, 'Christians have added an argument of their own for a future state, but, unfortunately, one that cannot bring personal comfort or assurance. A future state (it seems) is requisite to redress the inequalities of this life. And can I go to the Supreme Judge, and tell Him that I deserve more happiness than He has granted me in this life?' Do you not recollect this?--or has this sarcasm escaped you?" "It has not escaped me,--I remember it well; but it seems to have escaped you, that it is a very transparent sophism. For what is it but a pretence that the Christian in general is confident enough of his virtue to think that he has not been sufficiently well treated, and that his Creator and Judge cannot do less than make amends for his injustice, by giving him compensation in another world?" "And is not that the true statement of the case?" "I imagine not; whether men be Christians or otherwise. The generality, when they reason upon this subject, (you and I, for example, at this very moment,) not at all considering the aspect of such a day upon themselves; how much they will lose if there be none; perhaps the bulk would wish that it could be proved that it would never come! It has been from a wish to escape great speculative perplexities, connected with the divine administration, and not in relation to man's deserts, that the question has been argued. When dictated by other feelings, the conviction of a future state has been quite as generally the utterance of remorse and fear, the response of an accusing conscience, as of hope and aspiration; and derives, perhaps, a terrible significance from that circumstance. But it has certainly not been, in the Christian, the result of any absurd expectation of virtues to be rewarded, or rights to be redressed. As to the Christian, though he feels that he would not, and dare not, go to the divine tribunal with any such absurd plea as Mr. Newman is pleased to put into his mouth,--though he cannot impeach the divine goodness,--he none the less feels that that goodness, if this scene be all, is open to very grievous impeachment in relation to millions who have suffered much, and done no wrong, and to multitudes more who have inflicted infinite wrong, and suffered next to nothing; and they would fain, if they could, get over difficulties which Mr. Newman chooses, from the mere exigencies of his theology, to represent as no difficulties at all. To escape them or to solve them is the thing principally in the minds of those who contend for a day of recompense; not the imaginary compensation of individual wrongs. I do contend that, if this world be all, the divine administration in many points is more hopelessly opposed to our moral instincts, and to all our notions of equity and benevolence, than any thing on which you spiritualists are accustomed to justify your censure of Scripture. You ought, as Harrington says, to go further." ____ July 30. I was much interested yesterday morning by a conversation between Harrington and two pleasant youths, acquaintances of Mr. Fellowes, both younger by three or four years than either he or Harrington. They are now at college, and have imbibed in different degrees that curious theory which, professedly recognizing Christianity (as consigned to the New Testament) as a truly divine revelation, yet asserts that it is intermingled with a large amount of error and absurdity, and tells each man to eliminate the divine element for himself. According to this theory, the problem of eliciting revealed truth may be said to be indeterminate; of the unknown x varies through all degrees of magnitude; it is equal to any thing, equal to every thing, equal to nothing, equal to infinity. The whole party thought, with the exception of Harrington, who knew not what to think, that the "religious faculty or faculties" (one or many,--no man seems to know exactly) are quite sufficient to decide all doubts and difficulties in religious matters. Harrington knew not whether to say there was any truth in Christianity or not; Fellowes knew that there was none, except in that "religious element," Which is found alike essentially in all religions; that its miracles, its inspiration, its peculiar doctrines, are totally false. The young gentlemen just referred to believed "that it might be admitted that an external revelation was possible," and "that the condition of man, considering the aspects of his history, has not been altogether felicitous as to show that he never needed, and might not be benefited, by such light." I could cordially agree with them so far; superabundance of religious illumination not being amongst the things of which humanity can legitimately complain. But then, as they both believed that each man was to distil the "elixir Vitrae" for himself from the crude mass of truth and falsehood which the New Testament presents, Harrington, with his interrogations, soon compelled them to see how inconsistent they were both with themselves and with one another. One of them believed, he said, that the Apostles might have been favored by a true revelation; but not in such a sense "as to prevent their often falling into serious errors," whenever the distinctly "religious element" was not concerned; this was the only truly "divine" thing about it; but he saw no particular objection to receiving the miracles; at least some of them,--the best authenticated and most reasonable; perhaps they were of value as part of the complex evidence needful to establish doctrines which, if not absolutely transcendental to the human faculties,--as the doctrine of a future life, for example,--yet, apart from revelation, are but matter of conjecture. The other was also not unwilling to admit the miraculous and inspired character of the revelation, but contended, further, that the "religious element" was to be submitted to human judgment as well as the rest; and that, if apparently absurd, contradictory, or pernicious, as judged by that infallible and ultimate standard, it was to be rejected. It was amusing to think that, in this little company of three devout believers in the "internal oracle," no two thought alike! After the two youths had frankly stated their opinions, Harrington quietly said, "I should much like to ask each of you a few questions. There are certain difficulties connected with each hypothesis just stated, on which I should be glad to receive some light. I frankly confess beforehand, however, that I fear that that curiously constructed book, which gives us all so much trouble,--which will not allow me to say positively either that it is true or false,--will still less permit you to reject a part or parts at your pleasure. It is, I must admit, a most independent book in that respect, and treats your spiritual illumination most cavalierly. It says to you, "Receive me altogether, or reject me altogether, just as you please"; and when men have rejected it altogether, it leaves them certain literary and historical, and moral problems, in all fairness demanding solution, which I doubt whether it is in our power to solve, or to give any decent account of." "What do you mean," said the younger of the two youths, "by affirming that we are compelled to receive the whole book, or to reject it all?" "Let us see," said Harrington, "whether there is any consistent stopping-place between. It appears to me, that, whether by the most singular series of 'coincidences,' or by immense subtlety of design, this book, evidently composed by different hands, has yet its materials so interwoven, and its parts so reciprocally dependent, that it is impossible to separate them,--to set some aside, and say, 'We will accept these, and reject those': just as, in certain textures, no sooner do we begin to take out a particular thread, than we find it is inextricably entangled with others, and those again with others; so that there immediately takes place a prodigious 'gathering' at that point, and if we persevere, a rent; but the obstinate part at which we tug will not come away alone. Whether it is so or not, we shall soon see, by examining the results of the application of your theories. I will begin with you," (addressing the younger,) "because you believe least; you say, I think, that you admit the records of the New Testament contain a real revelation,--a religious element,--and that it has been authenticated to you by miracles and other evidence; but that the human mind is still the judge of how much of that revelation is to be received, 'and sit in judgment' on the 'religious element as well as the rest.'" The other assented. "You admit, probably, the doctrine of the soul's immortality as a part of that revelation,--perhaps even the doctrine of a resurrection?" "I do,--both these doctrines." "But perhaps you reject the idea of an 'atonement,' though you admit it to be in the Book?" "Yes. At the same time it is contended by many (as you are aware) that such a doctrine is not there." "I am aware of it, of course; but with them we have no controversy here. They are consistent, so far as the present argument goes; as consistent as the orthodox themselves. They do not allege a liberty of rejecting what they admit the book does contain, but only deny that it does contain some things which they reject. They would admit that, if those doctrines be there, then either they must concede them because authenticated by the miracles and other evidence, which proves what else they concede, or they must reject the said evidence altogether, because it authenticated what they found it impossible to concede. The controversy between them and the orthodox is one of interpretation, and is quite different from that in which we are now engaged." "I must admit it." "They may go, then?" said Harrington. "They may." "You admit, then, the miraculous authentication of such an event as the resurrection of man, but deny the doctrine of the atonement, though equally found in the said records?" "I do." "May I ask why?" "Because the one doctrine does not seem to me to contradict my 'spiritual consciousness,' and the other does." "You receive the one, I suppose you will say, on account of the miracles, and so on; since, while not contradicting your impressions of spiritual truth, it could not be authenticated without external evidence?" "Exactly so." "But is not the other doctrine as much authenticated by the miracles and so forth? or have you any thing to show that, while all those passages which relate to the former are true assertions, as well as truly the assertions of those who published the revelation, those which relate to the latter are not?" "I acknowledge I have not," replied the youth. "Or supposing they are not their sayings at all, have you any evidence by which you can show that they are not, so as to separate them from those that are?" "I must admit that I have no criterion of this kind." "For aught you know, then, since you know nothing of Christianity except from those documents in which the miracles and the doctrines are alike consigned to you, the said miracles, together with the other evidence, do equally establish the truths which you say are a part of divine revelation, and the errors which you say your 'spiritual faculty,' 'moral intuitions,' or what you will, tells you that you are to reject. You believe, then, in the force of evidence, which equally establishes truth and falsehood?" "You can hardly expect me to admit that." "But I expect you to answer a plain question?" "Why," said the youth, with a little flippancy, but with a good-humored laugh too, "the proverb says 'Even a fool may ask questions which a wise man cannot answer.'" "I acknowledge myself to be a fool" said Harrington, with a half serious, half comic air; "and you shall be the wise man who does not --for I will not say cannot--answer the fool's question." "I beg your pardon," said the other. "I acknowledge that it was an uncourteous expression." "Enough said," replied Harrington; "and now, since you are not pleased to answer my question, I will answer it myself; and I say, it is plain that the evidence to which you refer does affirm equally the truths you declare thus revealed to you, and the errors you declare you must reject. Now either the evidence is not sufficient to prove the one, or it is sufficient to prove both. So far, then, I think we may say, and say justly, that the supposed revelation is so constructed that you cannot accept a part and reject a part, on such a theory. But to make the case a little plainer still, if possible. There have been men, you know, who have taken precisely opposite views of the two doctrines you have mentioned; who have declared that the doctrine, not of man's immortality, but of the resurrection, so far from being conceivable, is, in their judgment, a physical contradiction; but who have also declared that the doctrine of atonement, in some shape, is instinctively taught by human nature, and has consequently formed a part of almost every religion; that it is in analogy with many singular facts of this world's constitution, and is not absolutely contradicted by any principle of our nature, intellectual or moral. Such a man, therefore, might take the very opposite of the course you have taken. He would proceed upon your common basis of a miraculously confirmed revelation, grossly infested with errors and falsehoods; he might say that he believed the authentication of the doctrine of 'atonement' in virtue of the evidence, because, though transcendental to his reason, it was not repugnant to it; but that he rejected the doctrine of the 'resurrection,' though equally established by the evidence, because contrary to the plainest conclusions of his reason." "I cannot in candor deny," said the other, "the possibility of such a case." "And in such a case, we might say, he does the very opposite of what you do." "Neither can I help admitting that." "The miracles, then, and other evidence, not only play the part of equally supporting truth and falsehood, but, what is still more wonderful, convert the same things, in different men, into truth and falsehood alternately. Miracles they must verily be if they can do that! A wonderful revelation it certainly is, which thus accommodates itself to the varying conditions of the human intellect and conscience, and demonstrates just so much as each of you is pleased to accept, and no more. No doubt the whole 'corpus dogmatum,' so supported, will, by the entire body of such believers, be eaten up; just as was the Mahometan hog, so humorously referred to by Cowper; but even that had not all its 'forbidden parts' miraculously shown to be 'unforbidden' to different minds! I do not wonder that such a revelation should need miracles; that any should be sufficient, is the greatest wonder of all; if indeed we except two;--the first, that Supreme Wisdom should have constructed such a curious revelation, in which he has revealed alternately, to different people, truth and falsehood, and has established each on the very same evidence; and the second (almost as great), that any rational creature should be got to receive such a revelation on such evidence as equally applies to which he says it does not prove, and to points which he says it does; these points, however, being, it appears, totally different in different men! But I will now go to your friend, who has got a point further in his belief, and graciously accepts all the 'religious elements' in this revelation." "Excuse me," said the last; "before you go to him, permit me to mention a difficulty which occurred to me while we were speaking." "By all means; but I do not promise to solve it. Perhaps I on this occasion shall prove the 'wise man,' though I am sure you will not be the fool." "You recollect," said the other, blushing, "our dismissing those who, while contending, like myself, that such and such doctrines are to be rejected, differ from me in this, that they contend that the said doctrines are not contained in the records of the supposed revelation at all; while others contend that they are. Now, if, while the two parties admit the general evidence which is to substantiate all that is in the records, they arrive by different interpretation at such very different results as to the supposed truth which it supports, are they in any better condition than I? There is the same difference, though arrived at in different ways; and the revelation still remains indeterminate." "Your objection is ingenious," replied Harrington. "First, however, it is rather hard to ask me to solve a difficulty with which I am in no way concerned, who profess to be altogether sceptical on the subject. Secondly, it certainly does not at all mend your case to prove that there are other men who possibly are as inconsistent as yourself. It makes your theory neither better nor worse. But, thirdly, if I were a Christian, I should not hesitate to contend that there was an obvious and vital difference in the two cases." "Indeed! If you can show that." "I should attempt it, at all events I should say that in the latter case the evidence to which the appeal was made did not equally serve to establish truth and falsehood, or, what is still worse, alternately to make falsehood truth, and truth falsehood, to different minds; that it was designed to establish all that was really in the records, though what that all was might give rise to different views, from the prejudices and the ignorance, the different degrees of intelligence and candor, on part of those who interpreted the records; that they made the falsehoods, and not the records or the evidence. I should, therefore, have no difficulty in relation to what, on your theory, is so incomprehensible; namely, that God should have given man so peculiarly constructed a revelation. That men should differ or err in its interpretation is not, I presume, very wonderful, because man, they say, is a creature of prejudice and passion as well as reason." "But God would still have given the revelation, and yet it is capable, it appears, of being variously interpreted!" said the other. "Very true, and it is very plain to me that, supposing him to have given any, he could have given no other, unless his omnipotence had been immediately exerted separately upon each individual of the human race, and then in such a way as to supersede all the moral discipline which Christians affirm is involved in its reception. Supposing this discipline (as those who believe in a revelation contend) to be an essential condition, I cannot conceive God himself to give a document which man's ingenuity cannot easily misinterpret. You see man plays the same trick equally well with that faculty of 'spiritual insight,' which some say is the sole source of religious truth, and which you say is the sole arbiter of an external revelation! We cannot find two of you who think alike, or who will give us the same transcript of religious truth. Similarly, we see the same ingenuity manifested by man whenever it is his interest to find in a document a different meaning from that which it apparently carries on its face. Does not the endless controversy, the perpetual litigation of men, respecting the meaning of seemingly the plainest documents, assure us that, if a revelation were really given, the like would be possible with that? It is doubtful with me, therefore, whether God himself could give a revelation, such that men could not misrepresent and pervert it; that is, as long as they were rational creatures," he continued bitterly. "But the mischief of your theory is, that it charges the inevitable result of man's perverseness or ignorance on God, and the revelation he has been supposed to construct, and that is to me an absurdity." "I do not see that these answers are satisfactory," said the other. "I must leave you to judge of that," said Harrington, "or to contest it with my uncle here. I am keeping my next friend waiting, who, I can see, is impatient to run a course in favor of his view of revelation. He tells us, too, that a divine revelation, as conveyed in the New Testament, is to be admitted, but he cannot away with the notion that its certainty extends to any thing more than to what he calls the 'religious element.' Is not that your notion?" "It is." "You think, for example, that it is possible that the Apostles and writers of the New Testament (in fact, whoever had the charge of recording and transmitting to posterity the doctrines of this revelation) were left liable, just as any other men, to all sorts of errors, geographical, chronological, logical, historical, political, moral--" "No, no, not moral," said the other; "I did not say moral: their morality is implied in their theology." "O, very well! we shall better see that presently; only I have to remind you, for the glory of your Rationalism, that other Rationalists make the errors extend even to the 'moral element'; but it is all one to me. You say, that, as far as regards every thing else, it is very possible that these 'inspired' men might err to any amount?" "Yes; I believe it." "You have, doubtless, some reason for saying that they were made infallible in religion and morality, but liable to all sorts of errors on other subjects?" "Nothing but this; that, if to give us 'spiritual truth' (as is supposed) was their proper function (and we cannot but suppose that it was), they must have been invested (we must suppose) with all the necessary qualities for this end, since I am supposing that even miracles were thought worth working in order to confirm their doctrine." "You use the word suppose rather frequently, my friend; however, I will not quarrel with you for that; only you ought not to be surprised if, adopting your last supposition,--that, when miracles and inspiration have been supposed to be vouchsafed to authenticate a particular revelation, all such endowments, at least, will be granted as shall secure that object from defeat,--other Christians further suppose that the documents in which the revelation was to be consigned to all future ages would not be disfigured (and in many respects obscured) by the liability of their authors to all sorts of errors on an infinity of points, hopelessly entangled, as we shall soon see, with this one! that when heaven was at the trouble to embark its cargo of diamonds and pearls for this world, it would not send them in a vessel with a great hole in the bottom! If the Apostles were plenarily inspired with regard to this one subject, men will think it strange, perhaps, that divine aid should not have gone a little further, and since the destined revelation was to be recorded or rather imbedded, in history, illustrated by imagination, enforced by argument, and expressed in human language,--its authors should have been left liable to destroy the substance by egregious and perpetual blunders as to the form; to run the chance of knocking out the brains of the unfortunate revelation by upsetting the vehicle in which it was to be conveyed!" "But, then, these supposed endowments are purely a supposition on the part of Christians in general." "Just as yours, we may say, of an indefectible wisdom on one point is a supposition on your part. I think in that respect that you are both well matched. But I freely confess that I think their supposition more plausible than yours; and, if I were an advocate for Christianity, I should certainly rather suppose with them than suppose with you; that is, I should think it more credible, if God interposed with such stupendous instruments as miracles, inspiration, and prophecy at all, he would endow the men thus favored (not with all knowledge, indeed, but) with whatever was necessary to prevent their encountering a certainty of vitiating their testimony." "But how would their testimony be liable to be vitiated? I am supposing them to be absolutely free from error as regards the religious clement, which they deliver pure." 'We shall see in a minute whether their testimony was liable to be vitiated or not, and whether the separation for which you contend be conceivable, or even possible. I fear that you have no winnowing-fan which will separate the chaff from the wheat." "To me, nothing seems more easy than the supposition I have made." "Few things are more easy than to make suppositions; but let us see. I am sure you will answer as fairly as I shall ask questions. To do otherwise would be to separate the 'moral element' from the 'logical,' whatever the New Testament writers may have done. You believe, you say, in the resurrection of Christ?" "I do." "As a fact or doctrine?" "Both as a fact and doctrine." "For it is both, if true," said Harrington; "and so, I apprehend, it will be found with the other doctrines of Christianity. Whether, in your particular latitude of Rationalism, you believe many or few of them, still, if true at all (which we at present take for granted), they are both facts and doctrines, from the Incarnation to the Resurrection. But to confine ourselves to one,--that of the Resurrection,--for one will answer my purpose as well as a thousand; --that, you say, is a fact,--a fact of history?" "It is." "It is, then, conveyed to us as such?" "Certainly." "Were the recorders of that fact liable to error in conveying it to us? In other words, might they so blunder in conveying that fact (as we know the unaided historian may, and often does) as to leave us in doubt whether it ever took place or not?" "Well," said the youth, "and you know they have exhibited it in such a way as to suggest many apparent discrepancies, and those very difficult to be reconciled." "I am aware of it, and for that very reason selected this particular fact. In my judgment, there are no passages which more exercise the ingenuity of the harmonists than those which record the transactions connected with the resurrection. But still, in spite of them all, I presume that you do not think that those discrepancies really call the fact in question, else you would not continue to believe it. I should then suddenly find myself arguing with a very different person." "Certainly, you are quite right. I agree that the substantial facts are as the writers have delivered them; although they may, from their liability to error, have delivered some of the details erroneously." "But might this liability to error have led them a little further in their discrepancies, so as to involve the fact itself in just doubt, and so of other great facts which constitute the doctrines as well as the facts of Scripture?" "Of course, I think it might, since I suppose them unaided by any supernatural wisdom in this respect." "The answer is honest. I thought, perhaps, you would have answered differently, in which case you would have given me the trouble of pursuing the argument one step further. It appears, then, that, though inspired to give mankind a true statement of doctrines, yet that, when these doctrines assume the form of facts (which, unhappily, they do perpetually), this hazardous liability to error as historians may counteract their inspiration, and they may give them in such a form as to throw upon them all manner of doubts and suspicions; possibly they have done so, for aught you can tell.--But, again, you also affirm that these so-called inspired men were liable to make all sorts of logical blunders, just as the uninspired." "Certainly; and I must confess I think the logic of the Apostle Paul, in particular, often exceedingly absurd." "Very fair and candid. For example, I dare say that you do not think much of his arguments or inferences from certain doctrines; or his proofs of those doctrines from the Old Testament or--" "They are not, indeed, worth much in my estimation." "Candid again; but then it is plain, first, that you will have to distinguish between the pure doctrines which Paul derived from a celestial source, and his erroneous proofs or inferences, which are delivered in precisely the same manner and with the same assumption of authority. And this, I think, would be an insuperable task; at least, it seems so, for you Rationalists decide this matter very differently. When any of you favor me with your sketches of the true heaven-descended Pauline theology, I find them widely different from each other. Your 'religious element' is of the most variable volume. Some of you include nearly the whole creed of ordinary orthodoxy; others, fifty or even eighty per cent. less, both in bulk and weight." "Perhaps so." "Perhaps so! But then, what becomes of your principle, that you may separate the pure 'religion element,' as conveyed to the minds of the sacred writers by direct illumination, from the errors of vicious logic which have been permitted to mingle with it? To me it appears any thing but easy to separate the functions of a revealer of truly inspired truth from the vitiating influences of a fallacious logic. The 'heavenly vision,' however 'obedient' a Paul may be to it, will be but obscurely represented, and suffer egregiously from that distorted image which the ill-constructed mirror will convey to us. --But once more, I think you do not hold Paul's rhetoric to be always of the first excellence?" "Certainly not; I think his representations are often as faulty as his logic is vicious; especially when, under the influence of his Jewish education, he throws old Gamaliel's mantle over his shoulders, and dotes about 'allegories' founded on the Old Testament." "Fair and candid once more; but then, I suppose you will admit that the divine truths which he was, nevertheless, commissioned to teach mankind, will, like any other truths, be much affected by the mode in which they are represented to the imagination; will become brighter or more obscure, more animated or more feeble, and even more just or distorted, as this task is wisely and judiciously, or preposterously performed?" "No doubt." "Then it appears, I think, that, if there were nothing to control the Apostle Paul's manner of exhibiting divine verities, even in relation only to the imagination, there might be all the difference between sober truth and fanatical perversions of it. I might, in the same manner, proceed to show that the feelings, uncontrolled by a superior influence, would be also likely to give distortion or exaggeration to the doctrines. But it is enough. It appears very plain, that, according to your hypothesis, even though the Apostles were commissioned to teach by supernatural illumination certain truths, yet that, being liable to be infected with all the faults of false history, bad logic, vicious rhetoric, fanatical feeling, these divine truths might, possibly, be most falsely presented to us. We have, really, no guaranty but your gratuitous 'supposition' that they have been taught at all. We have no criterion for separating what is thus divine from what is merely human. I fear, therefore, your distinction will not hold. The stream, whatever the crystal purity of its fountain, could not fail to be horribly impure by the time it had flowed through such foul conduits." "In short," continued Harrington, with a bitter smile at the same time, "there are but three consistent characters in the world; the Bible Christian, and the genuine Atheist,--or the absolute Sceptic." "No,--no,--no," exclaimed the whole trio at once; "and you yourself must be true to your principles, and therefore sceptical as to this." "It is" he replied, "one of the very few things which I am not sceptical about. At all events, right or wrong, I am, as usual, willing to give you my reasons for my belief." "Rather say your doubts," said Fellowes. "Well, for my doubts, then. You see, my friends, the matter is as follows. The Christian speaks on this wise:-- "'I find, in reference to Christianity as in references to Theism, what appears to me an immense preponderance of evidence of various kinds in favor of its truth; but both alike I find involved in many difficulties which I acknowledge to be insurmountable, and in many mysteries which I cannot fathom. I believe the conclusions in spite of them. As to the revelation, I see some of its discrepancies are the effect of transcription and corruption; others are the result of omissions of one or more of the writers, which, if supplied, would show that they are apparent only; of others, I can suggest no explanations at all; and, over and above these, I see difficulties of doctrine which I can no more profess to solve than I can the parallel perplexities in Nature and Providence, and especially those involved in the permitted phenomenon of an infinity of physical and moral evil. As to these difficulties, I simply submit to them, because I think the rejection of the evidence for the truths which they embarrass would involve me in a much greater difficulty. With regard to many of the difficulties, in both cases, I set that the progress of knowledge and science is continually tending to dissipate some, and to diminish, if not remove, the weight of others: I see that a dawning light now glimmers on many portions of the void where continuous darkness once reigned; though that very light has also a tendency to disclose other difficulties; for, as the sphere of knowledge increases, the outline of darkness beyond also increases, and increases even in a greater ratio. But I also find, I frankly admit, that on many of my difficulties, and especially that connected with the origin of evil, and other precisely analogous difficulties of Scripture, no light whatever is cast: to the solution of them, man has not made the slightest conceivable approximation. These things I submit to, as an exercise of my faith and a test of my docility, and that is all I have to say about them; you will not alter my views by dwelling on them, for your sense of them cannot be stronger than mine.' Thus speaks the Christian; and the Atheist and the Sceptic occupy ground as consistent. They say, 'We agree with you Christians, that the Bible contains no greater difficulties than those involved in the inscrutable "constitution and course of nature"; but on the very principles on which the Rationalist, or Spiritualist, or Deist, or whatever he pleases to call himself, rejects the divine origin of the former, we are compelled to go a few steps farther, and deny--or doubt the divine origin of the latter. It is true that the Bible presents no greater difficulties than the external universe and its administration; (it cannot involve greater;) but if those difficulties are sufficient to justify the denial or doubt of the divine authorship of the one, they are sufficient to justify denial or doubt about the divine origin of the other.'--But as to you, what consistent position can you take, so long as you affirm and deny so capriciously? Who 'strain at the gnats' of the Bible, and 'swallow the camels' of your Natural Religion? You ought, on the principle on which you reject so much of the Bible,--namely, that it does not harmonize with the deductions of your intellect, the instincts of conscience, the intuitions of the 'spiritual faculty,' and Heaven knows what,--to become Manichaeans at the least." "But these very arguments," said one of the youths, "are just the old-fashioned arguments of BUTLER, Which it is surely droll of all things to find a sceptic making use of." "I admit they are his, my friend; but not that there is any inconsistency in my employing them. I affirm that Butler is quite right in his premises, though I may reject the conclusion to which he would bring me. He leaves two alternatives, and only two, in my judgment, open; leaves two parties untouched; one is the Christian, and the other is the Atheist or the Sceptic, which-ever you please; but I am profoundly convinced he does not leave a consistent footing for any thing between. His fire does not injure the Christian, for-comes out of his own camp; nor me, for it falls short of my lines; but for you, who have pitched your tent between, take heed to yourselves. He proves clearly enough, that the very difficulties for which you reject Christianity exist equally, sometimes to a still amount, in the domain of nature." "Oh!" said the youngest, "we do not think that Butler's argument is sound." "Then," said Harrington, "the sooner you refute it the better. All you have to do is, just to show that this world does not exhibit the inequalities, the miseries,--the apparent caprice in its administration, --the involuntary ignorance,--the enormous wrongs,--the wide-spread sorrows and death,--it does. You will do greater service to the Deist than the whole of the have ever done him yet. I am convinced that Butler is not to be refuted." "But do you not recollect what no less a man than Pitt said,--'Analogy is an argument so easily retorted!'" replied the same youth. "Then you will have the less difficulty in retorting it," said Harrington, coolly. "Pitt's observation only shows that he had forgotten the true object of the work, or never understood it. For the purposes of refutation, it does not follow that an analogy may be easily retorted; it may be, and often is, irresistible. It is when employed to establish a truth, not to expose an error, that it is often feeble. If Butler had attempted to prove that the inhabitants of Jupiter must be miserable, nothing could have been more ridiculous than to adduce the analogy of our planet. But if he merely wished to show that it did not follow that that beautiful orb, being created by infinite power, wisdom, and goodness, must be an abode of happiness, (just the Rationalist style of reasoning,) it would be quite sufficient to introduce the speculator to this ill-starred planet of ours." There are few who will not acquiesce in this remark of Harrington's, however they may lament the alternative he seemed disposed to take. Assuredly, for the specific object in view, no book written by man was ever more conclusive than that of Butler. For if you can show to an unbeliever in Christianity, who is yet (as most are) a Theists, that any objection derived from its apparent repugnance to wisdom or goodness applies equally to the "constitution and course of nature," you do fairly compel him (as long as he remains a Theist) to admit that that objection ought not to have weight with him. He has indeed an alternative; that of Atheism or Scepticism; but it is clear he must give up either his argument or his--Theism. It may be called, indeed, an argument ad hominem; but as almost every unbeliever in Christianity is a man of the above stamp, it is of wide application. This is the fair issue to which Butler brings the argument; and the conclusiveness of his logic has been shown in this, that, however easily "analogies" may be "retorted," the parties affected by it have never answered it. I was amused with the criticism with which Harrington wound up. "Butler," said he, "wrote but little; but when reading him, I have often thought of Walter Scott's wolf-dog Maida, who seldom was tempted to join in the bark of his lesser canine associates. 'He seldom opens his mouth,' said his master; 'but when he does, he shakes the Eildon Hills. Maida is like the great gun at Constantinople,--it takes a long time to load it; but when it does go off, it goes off for something!'" ____ Aug. 1. I this day put into Mr. Fellowes's hands the brief notes on the three questions on which he had solicited my opinion. They were as follows:-- I. Mr. Newman says that it is an idle boast that the elevation of woman is in any high degree attributable to the Gospel. "In point of fact," says he, "Christian doctrine, as propounded by Paul, is not at all so honorable to woman as that which German soundness of heart has established. With Paul the sole reason for marriage is that a man may without sin vent his sensual desires." If, indeed, there were no other passage in the New Testament than that to which Mr. Newman refers, there might be something to be said for him. But it is only one of many, and the question really at issue is consequently blinked, namely, what is the aspect of the entire New Testament institute upon the relations of woman? It is true, indeed, that the reason for marriage which Mr. Newman contends is the only thing Paul thought about, is very properly urged; for from the constitution of human nature, (as every comprehensive philosopher and legislator would admits) as well as from the horrible condition of things where marriage is neglected, prominence is very justly given to the preservation of chastity as one of the primary objects of the institution. But the question as between Mr. Newman and Christianity is this: Is this the only aspect under which the relations of man and woman are represented to us? That every thing is not said in one passage is true enough. From the desultory manner in which the ethics as well as doctrines of the New Testament are expounded to us, and especially from the casual form which they assume in the Apostolic Epistles, where the particular circumstances of the parties addressed naturally suggested the degree of prominence given to each topic, we must fairly examine the whole volume in order to comprehend the spirit of the whole, and not take up a solitary passage as though it were the only one. Now, if we examine other passages, we cannot fail to see that the New Testament consecrates married life by enjoining the utmost purity, devotion, and tenderness of affection. Look at only one or two of the passages in which the New Testament enjoins the reciprocal duties of husbands and wives; what sort of model it proposes for their love. "Husbands, love your wives, even as Christ also loved the Church and gave himself for it ..... Let every one in particular so love his wife even as himself; and the wife see that she reverence her husband. So ought men to love their wives as their own bodies, .... giving honor unto the wife as unto the weaker vessel, and as being heirs together of the grace of life." Is this like condemning women to be "elegant toys and voluptuous appendages"? Admitting, for the sake of argument, that the whole of Christianity is a delusion; that Christ never lived, and therefore never died; that he is a more palpable myth than even Dr. Strauss contends for; still it is impossible not to see that the writers of the New Testament represent his love for man as the ideal of pure, disinterested, self-sacrificing affection; this appears whether we listen to the words which the Evangelists have put into his mouth, or those in which they have spoken of him. "Greater love hath non man than this that a man lay down his life for his friends." Now, let there be as much or as little historic truth in such statements, in the doings and sufferings of Christ on behalf of humanity, as you will, the conclusion is irresistible that his conduct (real or imaginary) is set forth as the exhibition of unequalled patience, gentleness, meekness, and forbearance; of a love anxious to purchase, at the dearest cost, the purest and highest happiness of its objects. Now such is the pattern of affection which the Apostles commend to the imitation of "husbands and wives" in their conduct towards one another. Such is to be the lofty standard which their love is to emulate. Is it possible to go further? Does not the fantastical observance, or rather the absolute idolatry of women cherished by chivalry,--itself, however, rooted in the influences of a corrupt Christianity,--look like a caricature beside the picture? And who are the "poets of Germanic culture" who have risen to an equal ideal of the reciprocal duties and sentiments of wedded life? I must contend that so beautiful a picture of a real equality between man and woman,--founded on the love of the common Lord of both,--such a picture of woman's true elevation, was never realized in the ancient world, nor would have been to this day had not Christianity been promulgated; nor is now, except where Christianity is known, though, alas! not always where it is. But if you think otherwise, beg Mr. Newman to give you a catena of passages from the "poets of Germanic culture" (he has not adduced a syllable in proof); and recollect it ought to be from Germanic poets who lived before the Germans were Christians! Or perhaps you would wish to seek the Germanic "sentiment" towards woman pure in its source, as given in the certainly not unfavorable estimate of Tacitus. In their respect for woman and the stress they laid on chastity, the ancient Germans transcended without doubt many savages. Still, few readers will suppose there was much reason to boast of the elevation of women, or the presence of much refined "sentiment" between the sexes! As long as women do all the drudgery of house and field work, while their lazy husbands drink and gamble; as long as they are liable (and their children too) to be sold or put on the hazard of a cast of the dice; as long as they are themselves ferocious enough to go out to battle with their husbands; I presume you will think the "Germanic culture" very far short of the "culture" likely to be produced by the New Testament! Well says Gibbon, "Heroines of such a cast may claim admiration; but they were most assuredly neither lovely nor very susceptible of love." II. Mr. Newman says, that undue credit has been claimed for Christianity as the foe and extirpator of slavery. He says that, at this day, the "New Testament is the argumentative stronghold of those who are trying to keep up the accursed system." Would it not have been candid to add, that the New Testament has ever been also the stronghold of those who oppose it, as well in this country as in America? It is on the express ground to its supposed inconsistency with the maxims and spirit of Christianity, that the great mass of Abolitionists hate and loathe it. A public clamor against it was never raised in the days of ancient slavery, nor is now in any country where Christianity is unknown. The opposition to it in our own country was a religious one; that we know full well; and so is the opposition of the American Abolitionists at the present day. If selfish cupidity, on the one hand, appeals to the New Testament for its continuance, so does philanthropy, on the other, for its abolition; and though in my judgment the inferences of the latter are far more reasonable, the mere fact that both parties appeal to the book shows that the New Testament neither sanctions it--rather the contrary by implication--nor expressly denounces it;--Mr. Newman doubtless can do it safely. This very moderation of language, however, has to many minds, and those of no mean capacity, (the late Dr. Chalmers for example,) been regarded as an indication of the wisdom which has presided over the construction of the New Testament; it was not only a tone peremptorily demanded by the necessary conditions of publishing Christianity at all, but was best adapted,--nay, alone adapted,--in the actual condition of the world in relation to slavery, to make any salutary impression. Admitting that the great, the primary end of the Gospel was spiritual; that it was the object of the Apostles to obtain for it a dispassionate hearing among all nations; and that, however they might hope indirectly to affect the temporal prosperity and political welfare of mankind, all good of this kind was in their view subordinate to that spiritual amelioration, which, if affected, would necessarily involve all inferior social and political improvements;--I say, admitting this, it is really difficult to imagine any other course open to a wise choice than that which was actually adopted. I contend, that in not passionately denouncing slavery, and in contenting themselves with quietly depositing those principles and sentiments which, while achieving objects infinitely more important, would infallibly abolish it, the Apostles took the wisest course, even with relation to this latter object,--though it was doubtless not the course into which a blind fanaticism would have plunged. To enter upon an open crusade against slavery in that age would have been to render the preaching of the Gospel a simple impossibility, and to convert a professedly moral and spiritual institute into an engine of political agitation; it would have afforded the indignant governments of the world--quite prompt enough to charge it with seditious tendencies--a plausible pretext for its suppression. Both the primary and the secondary objects would have been sacrificed; and the chains of slavery riveted, not relaxed. Slavery, in that age, we must recollect, was interwoven with the entire fabric of society in almost all nations. To denounce it would have been a provocation, nay, a challenge, to a servile war in every country to which the zeal of the Christian emissaries might carry the Gospel. Contenting themselves, therefore, with the enunciation of those principles which, where they are truly embraced, are inconsistent with the permanent existence of slavery, and, if triumphant, insure its downfall, the Apostles pursued that which was their great object; and for those of an inferior order, patiently waited for the time when the seed they had sown broadcast in the earth should yield its harvest. And surely the event has justified their sagacity. For to what, after all, have just notions on this most important subject been owing, except to this said Christianity? Though it is true that, owing to the imperfect exemplification of its principles by men who profess it, it has not yet done its work, it is doing it; though some Christian nations--more shame for them--have slaves, none but Christian nations are without them. Not only is the sincere admission of the maxims and principles of the New Testament inconsistent with the permanent existence of slavery, but the history of Christianity affords perpetual illustrations of its tendency to destroy it. Even during the Dark Ages, even in its most corrupted form, Christianity wrought for the practical extinction of serfdom. Mr. Newman says that it was Christians, not men, that the church sought to enfranchise; it little matters; she sought to abolish all villanage. He says that even Mahometans do not like to enslave Mahometans; I ask, can he find immense bodies of Mahometans who contend that it is Contrary to the spirit, tendencies, and maxims, if not precise letter, of their religion, to enslave any body? For it was such a principle which expressly called forth the abhorrence and condemnation of slavery in our own age and nation. It cannot be denied that the movement by which this accursed system was, after so long a struggle, exterminated amongst us, was an eminently religious one, as regards its main supporters, the ground they took, and the sacrifices they made. "But Christian nations have defended and practised slavery!" you will say. They have; and Christian nations have often practised the vices which the "Book" expressly condemns,--just as all nations have practised many things which their codes of morals or laws condemn. The question is whether in the one case the Book, or in the other case the codes, approve them; not, I presume, whether man is a very inconsistent animal. But no system is made answerable for the violations of its spirit--except Christianity. Mr. Newman says that slaveholders make the "New Testament the stronghold of the accursed system." It had been more to the purpose if he had pointed out a passage or two which recommend it. He knows that it is simply because it does not (for reasons already stated) denounce it, that they say it approves it. Are you satisfied with this reasoning? Then try it on another case,--for despotism is exactly parallel. The New Testament does not expressly denounce that, and for the same reasons; and the arguments for passive obedience have been with equal plausibility drawn from its pages. Will the Transatlantic republicans approve despotism on the same authority? --Despotism has wrought at least as much misery to mankind as slavery, and probably much more. Was it a duty of the Apostles, instead of laying down principles which, though having another object, would infallibly undermine it, to denounce despotism everywhere, and invite all people to an insurrection against their rulers? If they had, the spiritual objects of the Gospel would have been easily understood, and very properly treated. Let me apply the argumentum ad hominem. Mr. Newman has favored the world with his views of religious truth, and the "spiritual" weapons by which its "champion" is to make it victorious over mankind; he has also recorded his hatred of slavery and despotism, where such magnanimity is perfectly safe, and perfectly superfluous. Let me now suppose you, not only partly, but wholly of his mind, and animated (if "spiritualism" will ever prompt men to do any thing, except, as Harrington says, to write books against book-revelation), --let me suppose you animated to go as missionary to the East to preach this spiritual system: would you, in addition to all the rest, publicly denounce the social and political evils under which the nations groan? If so, your spiritual projects would soon be perfectly understood, and summarily dealt with. It is in vain to say that, if commissioned by Heaven, and endowed with power of working miracles, you would do so; for you cannot tell under what limitations your commission would be given; it is pretty certain that it would leave you to work a moral and spiritual system by moral and spiritual means, and not allow you to turn the world upside down, nor mendaciously tell it that you came only to "preach peace," while every syllable you uttered would be an incentive to sedition. III. The last point on which you ask a few remarks is in relation to the early spread of Christianity. Mr. Newman makes easy work of this great problem. He says, "Before Constantine, Christians were but a small fraction of the empire ..... In fact, it was the Christian soldiers in Constanline's army who conquered the empire for Christianity." (Phases, p. 162.) In the first place, supposing the facts just as stated.--namely, that it was the Christian soldiers of Constantine who conquered the empire for Christianity,--who was it that conquered the army for Christianity? When I find Mahometanism the prevalent religion through the English regiments, I shall shrewdly suspect that the conquest of England for Mahometanism will have been made an easy task, by its having already made equal progress amongst the people generally! I suppose it will not be denied that the soldiers, by whose aid Constantine achieved this great victory, were themselves professedly converts to Christianity; and Christianity as it had existed in the times of the recent persecutions was not likely to allure men to the profession of arms. I think, therefore, we may fairly assume, that, if the imperial armies were to any considerable extent--and it must have been ex hypothesi to a prevailing extent--composed of Christians, Christianity had made at least equal progress in the ranks of civil life. The one may be taken as the measure of the other; though we might fairly suppose, both from the principles and habits of the Christians, that they would be found in civil life in a larger ratio. The camp was not precisely the place for them; the Gospel might find them there, it rarely sent them. So that the question returns, How came it to pass that the bulk of the armies which "conquered the empire for Christianity" came to be Christians,--at least in name and profession? "Ah!" you will say, "in name,--but they were strange Christians who became soldiers." Very true; and it makes my argument the stronger. Mere professors of a religious system only follow in the wake of its triumphs. When those who do not care much for a system profess and embrace it, depend upon it, it has largely triumphed. To suppose, therefore, that Constantine conquered the empire for Christianity, while we admit that the army was already Christian, is very like getting rid of the objection in the way the Irishman proposed to get rid of some superfluous cart-loads of earth. "Let us dig a hole," said he, "and put it in." It is much the same here. Constantine became a convert, perhaps from conviction, but certainly rather late. Supposing him a political convert, as many have done, it could only be because he saw that Christianity had done its work to such an extent as to render it more probable that it would assist him than that he could assist it. This induced him to take it under the wing of his patronage. And on such a theory, what but such a conviction could have justified him in the attempt for a moment? How could he be fool enough to add to the difficulties of his position--a candidate for empire--the stupendous difficulty of forcing upon his unwilling or indifferent subjects a religion which by supposition they were any thing but prepared to receive? If the prospects of Christianity had not already decided the question for him, so far from receiving credit for political sagacity, as he ever has done, he would deserve rather to be considered an absolute idiot! Again; is it not plain from history in general, and must we not infer it from the nature of the case a priori, that Christianity must in some fashion have conquered its millions before Constantine or any other man was likely to attempt to conquer the empire for Christianity, or to succeed in so doing if he had? Is there an instance on record of a people suddenly, at a moment's notice, changing its religion, or rather--for this is the true representation--of many different nations changing their many different religions at the simple command of their sovereign, and he too an upstart? In two cases, and in only two, it may be done; first, by an unsparing use of the sword, the brief, simple alternative of Mahomet, Death or the Koran; the other, when the new form of belief has converted the bulk or a large portion of the nation; of which, in this case, the conversion of the army is a tolerably significant indication. But again; if it be said that the people, or rather the many different nations, abandoned their religions out of complaisance to their sovereign, I answer, Why do we not see the same thing repeated when Julian wished to reverse the experiment? They were not so pliant then; then was it seen very dearly that the people were, as in every other case, unwilling, as regards their religion, to be mere puppets in the hands of their governors. He was animated by at least as strong a hatred of Christianity as Constantine by a love of it. Yet we see all the way through, that there was not a chance of success for him. "But there were some persecutions," you will say, "by Constantine." True, but they were so trifling compared with what would have been required had the conversion of an unbelieving and refractory empire depended on such means, that few who read the history of religious revolutions will believe that they were the cause of the change. Every thing shows that a vast preceding moral revolution in the empire is the only sufficient explanation of so sudden an event. Gibbon himself admits Constantine's tolerant disposition. "But," it may be said, "the old heathenism was worn out and effete; no one thought it worth his while to stand up in its defence." I answer, first, it seems to have been sufficiently loved, or at least Christianity was sufficiently hated, to insure frequent and sanguinary persecutions of the latter, almost up to the eve of Constantine's accession. Secondly, you are to consider that, though in the schools of philosophers, in the Epicurean or sceptical atmosphere of the luxurious capital and other great cities, there was unquestionably a numerous party to whom the old superstition was a laughing-stock, there were vast multitudes to whom it was still, in its various forms, a thing of power. You are to recollect that the Roman empire was made up of many nations, each with a different mode of religion, and to suppose that these different religions had ceased to exercise the usual influence on vast multitudes of the people would be mere delusion. If they were surrendered at last so easily, it could only be because a great party--antagonistic to each--had been silently forming in each nation, and undermining the power of the popular superstitions. But, thirdly, if the representation were true, to what can so singular a phenomenon--this simultaneous decay of different religions, this epidemic pestilence amongst the gods of the Pantheon --be ascribed, but to the previous influence of Christianity, and its extensive conquests? And, fourthly, supposing this not the case, and yet that the indifference in question existed, this indifference to the old systems of religion would not presuppose equal indifference to new, or induce the people to embrace them at the mere bidding of their new master. If this were so, we ought to see the same phenomenon repeated in the case of Julian. If, in their presumed indifference to the old and the new, they listened to Constantine when he commanded them to become Christians, why did not they manifest an equally compliant temper when the Apostate enjoined them to become heathens, and like Constantine, gave them both precept and example? But look at the historic evidence on the subject long before the establishment of Christianity. Is it possible for any candid person to read the Epistle of Pliny to Trajan, and not see in that alone, after making every deduction for any supposed bias under which the letter may have been written (though, in fact, it is difficult to suppose any bias that would not rather lead the writer to diminish the number of the Christians than to exaggerate it),--is it possible, I say, to read that singular state paper, and not feel that the new religion had made prodigious progress in that remote province? and that, a fortiori, if in Bithynia it had conquered its thousands of proselytes, in other and more favored provinces it must have gained its tens of thousands? To me the letter of Pliny speaks volumes; and if so much could be said at so early a period as A. D. 107, what was the state of things two centuries later? Precisely the same conclusion must be arrived at if we consult the uniform tone of the Christian apologists, from Justin Martyr to Minucius Felix. Making here, again, what deductions you please for the fervid eloquence and rhetorical exaggerations of such a man as Tertullian, it is too much to suppose even his "African" impetuosity would have ventured, not merely on the virulent invective, the bold taunts, with which he everywhere assails the popular superstitions, but on such strong assertions of the triumphant progress of the upstart religion, unless there had been obvious approximation to truth in his statements. "We were but of yesterday," says he, "and we have filled your cities, islands, towns, and assemblies; the camp, the senate, the palace, and the forum swarm with converts to Christianity." Apologist for Christianity! Unless these words had been enforced by very much of truth, he would have made Christianity simply ridiculous; and Christians would have been necessitated to apologize for their mad apologist. The same conclusion equally follows from the consideration of those very corruptions of Christianity, which no candid student of ecclesiastical history will be slow to admit had already infected it, many years before Constantine ventured to aid it by his equivocal patronage. It was obviously its triumphant progress,--its attraction to itself of much wealth,--the accession, to a considerable extent, of fashion, rank, and power,--that chiefly caused those corruptions. So long as the Christian Church was poor and despised, such scenes as often attended the election of bishops in the great cities of the empire would be quite impossible. Under such circumstances the argument of Mr. Newman--judiciously compressed into a few sentences--appears to me even ludicrous. How different the course which Gibbon pursues! What a pity that the great historian did not perceive that this statement would have led him equally well to his desired end; that so brief a demonstration would suffice to account for that unmanageable phenomenon, the rapid progress and ultimate triumph of Christianity! He, on the contrary, seems to have read history with very different eyes; and yet I suppose no man will question either his learning or his sagacity. He finds himself obliged to admit the conspicuous advance which the Gospel had made before Constantine's accession, and employs every nerve to invent sufficient natural causes to account for it. What a facile task would he have had of it, if he had but bethought him that Christianity, instead of having been to an enormous extent successful was, in fact, waiting, in comparative failure, the triumphant aid of a military conqueror! He might then have dispensed with the celebrated chapter, and substituted for it the two pregnant sentences by which Mr. Newmen has, in effect, declared it superfluous. ____ August 7. Three days ago (the evening before my return home) I managed to prevail upon myself to have a close and formal discussion with Harrington on the subject of his scepticism. We had a regular fight, which lasted till midnight, and beyond. A good deal of it was (in a double sense, perhaps) a nuktomachia. As I had no one to jot down short-hand notes of our controversy,--perhaps it is as well for me and for truth that there was none,--it is impossible that I should do more than give you a succinct summary of its course. But its principal topics are too indelibly impressed on my memory to leave me in doubt about general accuracy. I hardly know what led to it; I believe, however, it was an observation he made on the different fates of metaphysical and physical science,--the last all progress, and the first perpetual uncertainty. He had been reading a remark of some philosopher who attributed this difference to the more substantial incentives offered to the cultivation of the physical sciences. "So that," said he, "they are, it seems, what our German friends would call 'Brodwissenschaften'! Not the brain, as some idly suppose, but the stomach, is the true organon of discovery, and if the metaphysician could but be punctually assured of his dinner (which has not always been the case), or at all events of a fortune, we should soon have the true theories of the Sublime and Beautiful,--of Ethics,--of the Infinite,--of the Absolute,--of Mind and Matter,--of Liberty and Necessity; whereas I think we should only have a multiplication of doubtful theories." He remarked that he doubted the truth of the hypothesis in both its parts; that not the want of adequate motives, but the intrinsic difficulty of the subjects, had kept metaphysics back (on what subjects had men expended more gigantic toil?); nor, on the other hand, was it necessity that chiefly impelled man to cultivate physical science; it was the desire of knowledge,--or rather, he added, the love of truth; for what else was his admitted curiosity, in the last resort, unless man is equally curious about falsehood and truth; "that is," said he, laughing, "as curious after ignorance as after knowledge! No," he continued, "the sciences are made arts for utilitarian purposes; but the sciences themselves have a very different origin. For my own part, I would as soon believe that Sir Isaac Newton excogitated his system of the universe in hopes of being made one day Master of the Mint." I assented, and, smiling, told him I was glad to find him admit that there was in man a love of knowledge, identical with the love of truth. He said he admitted the appetite, but denied that there was always an adequate supply of food. He admitted that in physical science man seemed capable of unlimited progress; but it seemed doubtful whether this was the case in other directions. "What was there inconsistent with scepticism in that?" he asked. I answered, that it was not for me to say at what point of the scale a man might become an orthodox doubter; but I was, at all events, glad that he had not gone all the lengths which some had gone, or professed to have gone; who, if they had not reached that climax of Pyrrhonism, to doubt even if they doubt, yet had declared the attainment of all truth impossible. I then bantered him a little on the advantages of "absolute scepticism"; told him I wondered that he should throw them away; and reminded him of the success with which the sceptic might train on his adversary into the "bosky depths" of German metaphysics,--the theories of Schelling, Fichte, Hegel. "If truth be in any of those dusky labyrinths," said I, "you are not compelled to find her; the more unintelligible the discussion becomes, the better for the sceptic; you may not only doubt, but doubt whether you even understand your doubts. You may play 'hide and seek' there for ten thousand years." "For all eternity," was his reply. But he said he had no wish to seek any such covert, nor to play the sceptic. I told him I was glad to find that his scepticism did not--to use Burke's expression on another subject--"go down to the foundations." He answered that he was afraid it did on all subjects really of any significance to man. "As to the present life," he continued, "I am quite willing to accept Bayle's dictum: 'Les Sceptiques ne nioient pas qu'il ne se fallut conformer aux coutumes de son pays, et pratiquer des devoirs de la morale, et prendre parti en ces choses la sur des probabilites, sans attendre la certitude.'" I was not sorry that he took Bayle's limits of scepticism rather than Hume's: I told him so. Hume, he said, was evidently playing with scepticism; for himself, he had no heart to jest upon the subject. The Scotch sceptic acknowledged that the metaphysical riddles of his "absolute scepticism" exercised, and ought to exercise, no practical influence on himself or any man; that the moment he quitted them, and entered into society, "they appeared to him so frigid and unnatural" that he could not get himself to interest himself about them any further; that a dinner with a friend, or a game at backgammon, put them all to flight, and restored him to the undoubting belief of all the maxims which his meditative hours had stripped him of. It was natural, Harrington said; for such scepticism was impossible. He added, however, that, had Hume been honest, he would never have employed his subtilty in the one-sided way he did; "for," said he, "if his principles be true, they tell just as much against those who deny any religious dogmas as against those who maintain them. Yet everywhere in relation to religion--take the question of miracles, for example--he argues not as a sceptic at all, but as a dogmatist, only on the negative side. If his doctrine of 'Ideas' and of 'Causation' be true, he ought to have maintained that; for any thing we know, miracles may have occurred a thousand times, and may as often occur again. Hume," he said, "was amusing himself; but I am not: nor can any one really feel--many pretend to do so without feeling at all--the pressure of such doubts as envelop me, and be content to amuse themselves with them." I found it very difficult to attack him in the intrenchments he had thrown up. I thought I would just try for a moment to act on the Spiritualist's advice, and, throwing aside all "intellectual and logical processes," all appeals to the "critical faculties," advance "lightly equipped as Priestley himself," making my appeal to the "spiritual faculty." I cannot say that the result was at all what "spiritualism" promises. On the contrary, Harrington parried all such appeals in a twinkling. He said he did not admit that he had any "spiritual faculty" which acted in isolation from the intellect; that religious faith must be founded on religious truth, and even quasi-religious faith on quasi-religious truth. That the intellect and the moral and spiritual faculties (if he had any) acted together, since he felt that he was indivisible, and that the former man be satisfied as well as the latter; that it was so with all his faculties, none of which acted in isolation; that however hunger might prompt to food, he never took what his senses of sight and touch told him was sand or gravel; that if he indulged love, or pity, or anger, it was only as the senses and the imagination and the understanding were busied with objects adequate to elicit them; that if beautiful poetry excited emotion, it was only as he understood the meaning and connection of the words. "And what else are you doing now, while urging me to realize by direct 'insight,' by 'gazing' on 'spiritual truth,' and so forth, the things you wish me to realize, --I say what are you doing but appealing to me, through these same media of the senses and the imagination, by rhetoric and logic? How else can you gain any access to my supposed 'spiritual faculties'?" I replied, that even the spiritualist did that,--he endeavored to convince men, I supposed. "Yes," he replied, laughing, "because he is privileged doubly to abuse logic at one and the same time; to abuse it in one sense as a fallacious instrument of religious conviction in the hands of others, and to abuse it in another sense, as an instrument of fallacious conviction in his own. But you are not so privileged." Harrington insisted on the fact, that the whole thing was a delusion; I might appeal, he said, if I thought proper, to any faculties, or rudiments of faculties, he possessed, spiritual or otherwise; but he really could not pretend even to comprehend one syllable I said, if I denied him the use of his understanding. I might as well, and for the same reasons, appeal to him without the intervention of his senses, --for his "soul" could not be more different from his "intellect" than from them. "Besides," he continued, "I know you do not imagine that any spiritual faculty acts thus independently of the intellect; and therefore you are only mocking me." I thought it best to cut my cable and leave this unsafe anchorage. I told him that, as he doubted whether man had any distinctly marked religious and spiritual faculties, while I affirmed that he had, --although he was quite right in supposing that I did not believe that they acted except in close conjunction with the intellect,--it made it difficult to hold any discourse with him. Doubting the Bible, he had also learned to doubt that doctrine of human depravity, which he once thought harmonized--and I still thought did alone harmonize--the great facts of man's essentially religious constitution and his eternally varied and most egregiously corrupt religious development. However, I told him that, even in the concession of the probable as a sufficient rule of conduct in this life, he had granted enough to condemn utterly his sceptical position. He now looked sincerely interested. "Let me," said I, "ask you a few questions." He glanced towards me an arch look. "What!" he said, "you wish to get the Socratic weather-gage of me, do you? You forget, my dear uncle, that you introduced me to the Platonic dialectics." "Heaven forgive you," said I, "for the thought. You know I make little pretension to your favorite erotetic method: and if I did, oh! do you not know, Harrington, my son, that, if I could but convince you on this one subject, I would consent to be confuted by you on every other every day in the year?--nay, to be trampled under your feet?" I added, with a faltering voice. "And, besides that, do you not know that there can be no rivalry between father and son; that it is the only human affection which forbids it; that pride, and not envy, swells a father's heart, when he finds himself outdone?" He was not unmoved; told me he knew that I loved him well, and desired me to ask any questions I pleased. He saw how gratified his affection made me feel. I said, gayly, "Well, then, let me ask (as our old friend with the queer face might have said), Do you not grant there is such a thing as prudence?" "I do," he said. "But to be prudent is, I think, to do that which is most likely to promote our happiness." "That which seems most likely, for I do not admit that we know what will." "That which seems, then, for it is of no consequence." "Of no consequence! surely there is a little difference between being and seeming to be." "All the difference in the world," I replied, "but not in relation to our choice of conduct, We choose, if prudent, that conduct which, on the whole, deliberately seems most likely to promote our happiness, and, as far as that goes, what seems is." "I grant it; and that probabilities are the measure of it," said Harrington. "You are of Bayle's opinion, that there is in relation to the present life a probable prudent, and that it would be gross folly to neglect it?" "Certainly." "And in proportion as the interest was greater, and extended over a longer time, you would be content with less and less probabilities to justify action?" "I freely grant I should." "If now a servant came into the room to say that he feared your farm-house at King's O--- was on fire, though you might think it but faintly probable, you would not think it prudent to neglect the information?" "I certainly should not." "And if you were immortal here on earth, and the neglect of some probably, or (we will say) only possibly, true information in relation to some vital interest might affect it through that whole immortality, you would consider it prudent to act on almost no probability at all, on the very faintest presumption of the truth?" "I must in honesty agree with you so far." "What does your scepticism promise you, if it be well founded? Much happiness?" "To me none; rather the contrary; and to none, I think, can it promise much." "And if Christianity be true,--for I speak only of that,--I know there is not in your estimate any other religion that comes into competition with it--immortal felicity, immortal misery, depends on it?" "Yes; it cannot be denied." "You admit that scepticism may be false, even though it has a thousand to one in its favor; for by its very principles you know nothing, and can know nothing, on the subjects to which its doubts extend?" "I acknowledge it." "And Christianity may be true by the very same reasoning, though the chances be only as one to a thousand?" "It is so." "Then by your own confession you are not prudent, for you do not act in relation to Christianity on the principles on which you say you act in the affairs of the present life; where you acknowledge that the least presumption will move you, when the interests are sufficiently permanent and great." He told me, with a smile, I might have arrived at the same conclusion without any argument; for he was willing to acknowledge in general that he was not prudent, and in relation to this very subject should always admit, with Byron, that the sincere Christian had an undeniable advantage over both the infidel and the sceptic; "since," he added, putting the admission into a very concise form, "their best is his worst." "Very well," said I, "Harrington, only remember that your imprudence is none the less for your admission of it." "None in the world," he admitted; but be contended there was a flaw in the argument; for that it was impossible to accept any religion on merely prudential grounds. And he then went on, in his curious way, to lament that an unreasonable candor prevented him from here taking advantage of an ingenious argument adopted by some of the modern "spiritualists" in reasoning on the probabilities of a "future life." They contend that it is necessary to insulate the soul (if it would discover "spiritual truth") from all bias of self- interest,--from all oblique glances at prospective advantage; in fact, that only he is fully equipped for discovering "spiritual truth" who is disinterestedly indifferent as to whether it be discovered or not. Harrington said he could not pretend that even the sceptic was so favorably circumstanced as that. "For my part," he said, "I cannot honestly adopt this view, and always think it prudent to accept as large an armful of happiness as I can grasp, when truth and duty do not come in the way." "And in the name of common sense," I said, "what truth and duty are to stand in your way? Is not your truth, that there is none?" "Yes," he replied, smiling; "but is not the truth the truth, as Falstaff said? though to be sure it was when he was manufacturing his eleven men in buckram out of two. However, as Mr. Newman, when some one foretold that he would be some day a Socinian or an infidel, replied, 'Well, if Socinianism or any thing else be the truth, Socinians or any thing else let us be'; so I must say, if no truth be the truth, no-truth men let us be." "Very well," I replied. "Then, it seems, truth stands in the way of acting prudently; and, instead of remedying our first paradox, we have started on another, that truth and prudence are here opposed: for in no other cases (I think) in which you apply your own rule of the probable to the present life will a mind of your comprehensiveness say they are opposed; I am sure you will admit the general maxims, that to lie is inexpedient, and that honesty is the best policy, and so on." He granted it. "But further," said I, "what sort of truth is this, which involves duty, and yet is opposed to prudence? It is, that there is no truth, it seems, and this completes the paradox. This strange truth--the Alpha Omega of the sceptic, his first and his last--is to involve duty; he is to be a confessor and martyr for it! Nothing less than happiness and prudence are to be sacrificed to conscience in the matter. Truly, if the truth that there is no truth involves any duty, it ought to be the duty of believing that there is no duty to be performed; and you might as well call yourself a no-duty man as a no-truth man." He smiled, but replied, that, seriously, it was impossible to adopt any religious opinions, or to change them, at the bidding of the will. I admitted, of course, that the will had no direct power in the matter; but reminded him that, if he meant it had no influence, or even a little, on the formation or retention of opinions, no one could be a more strenuous assertor of the contrary than he had often been. I reminded him it was so notorious that man usually managed to believe as he wished, that was no one maxim more frequently on the lips of the greatest philosophers, orators, and poets. But I added that there is also a legitimate way of influencing will, and that is through the understanding; and was with the hope of inducing him to reconsider the paradoxes of scepticism, and not with any expectation of instant or violent change, that I was anxious to enumerate them on the present occasion. It is impossible for me to recollect exactly the course of the long conversation that ensued; suffice it to say, that he willingly granted many other paradoxes, some of them so readily, as to confirm the suspicion I had sometimes felt, that he must often have doubted the validity of his doubts. He admitted, for example, that since men in general (whether from the possession of a distinct religious faculty, though it might be corrupt and depraved, or a mere rudimentary tendency to religion) had adapted some religion, religious scepticism, in an intelligible sense, was opposed to nature; --that it was equally opposed to nature, inasmuch as the general constitution of man sought and loved certainty, or supposed certainty, and found a state of perpetual doubt intolerable; and that if this be attributed to a tendency to dogmatism, that is the very tendency of nature which is affirmed;--that it is opposed to nature again in this way, that whereas restlessness and agitation of mind are usually, at all events, warnings to seek relief, scepticism produces these as its pure and proper result;--that since, by the confession of every mind worthy of respect, the great doctrines of religion, if not true, are such that we cannot but wish they were; since, by his own confession, scepticism has nothing to allure in it, and rather causes misery than happiness; and since, by his confession and that of every one else, men in general easily believe as they wish, it is an unaccountable paradox, that any one should remain a sceptic for a day, except, indeed, from a guilty fear of the truth;--that, since scepticism tends to misery, it is better not to know its truth, and that therefore ignorance is better than knowledge;--that, if Christianity be an illusion, it, at all events, tends to make men happier than the truth of scepticism, and that therefore error is better than truth;--that religious scepticism is open to the same objection as scepticism absolute; for whereas the last is taunted with trusting to reason to prove that reason can in nothing be trusted, religious scepticism is chargeable with declaring the certainty of all uncertainty, and, while proclaiming: that there is nothing true, avowing that that is truth and lastly, that if, in consistency, it leaves even that uncertainty uncertain, it arrives at a conclusion which everlastingly remits us to renewed investigation! "But," said he, "the sceptic does affirm the certainty of all uncertainty. That is precisely my state of mind, even in relation to Christianity. Both its truth and falsehood are--uncertain." "Then," said I, "I must not say you reject Christianity, but only that you do not receive it? "Precisely so," said he, with a smile and a blush at the same time. I was much amused with this logical ceremoniousness, by which a man is not to say that he rejects any thing so conditioned, but only that he does not receive it. I told him I imagined they came to much the same thing. "It is impossible," said he, after a pause, "to affirm any thing on these subjects." "It is equally impossible?" said I, "to affirm nothing; on the contrary, you sceptics have two conclusions, though in a negative form, for every body else's one,--together with the pleasant addition, that they are contraries to one another; and as Pascal said that the man who attempted to be neuter between the sceptic and dogmatist was a sceptic par excellence, so the genuine sceptic may be called a dogmatist par excellence." "For my part," said he, smiling sadly, "I hardly think it is very difficult either to believe nothing or every thing. Fellowes, you see, has believed everything, and now he is in a fair way to believe nothing. However, all I mean is, that the evidence on these subjects reduces one to a state of complete mental suspense, in which it is equally unreasonable to say that we believe, as to say that we believe not. However, I grant you most of the paradoxes you mention; but a sceptic is not to be startled by paradoxes, I trow; alas! they prove nothing." "Prove nothing! nay, I think you do your system injustice; I think it is entitled to the distinction of making great discoveries. You confess that the only truth on these subjects is, that there is no truth; that to act on this truth necessitates a conduct opposed to nature, to prudence, to happiness; that it is a knowledge worse than ignorance; that it is a truth that is worse than error; that it never did, will, or can be embraced by many, and that it makes the few who embrace it miserable; you admit further, with me, that men generally believe as they wish. Why, then, do you not fly from so hideous a monster, on the very ground (only in this case it is stronger) on which you doubt all religious systems,--that is, on account of the supposed paradoxes they involve? It may be but a little argument with you, who seem to demand demonstration of religious truth; but for myself, I feel that, whatever be the truth, such a chimera as scepticism, bristling all over with paradoxes, must be--a lie." "Well," he replied, "but then which religion is the true?" "Nay," I said, "that is an after consideration; if you can but be brought to believe that any is true, I know you will believe but one." "You touched just now," he replied, "on the very difficulty. I shall believe as soon as any one gives me what you truly say I ask,-- demonstration of the truth of some one of the thousand and one religious systems which men have believed." "And that, demonstration," said I, "you cannot have; for God has not granted demonstration to man on that or any other subject in which duty is involved." "But why might I not have had it? and should I not have had it, if it had been incumbent on me to believe it?" We had now come to the very knot of the whole argument. "Incumbent on you to believe! I suppose you mean, if there had been any system which you could not but believe; which you must believe whether you would or not. No doubt, in that case, the requisite evidence would have been such that scepticism would have been impossible; that word 'incumbent' implies duty; and that word duty is the key to the whole mystery, for it implies the possibility of resisting its claims. We do not speak of its being incumbent on a man to run out of a burning house, or to swim, if he can, when thrown into deep water. He cannot help it. If there be a Supreme Ruler of the universe, and if the posture of his intelligent creatures be that of submissive obedience to him, it is inconceivable that a man can ever have experience of his being willing to perform that duty with the sort of demonstration which you demand; and, for aught we know, it may be impossible, constituted as we are, that we should ever be actually trained to that duty, except in the midst of very much less than certainty. Now, if this be so,--and I defy you or any man to prove that it may not be so,--then we are asking a simple impossibility when we ask that we may be freed from these conditions; for it is asking that we may perform our duty, under circumstances which shall render all duty impossible." I pursued this subject at some length, and reminded him that the supposed law of our religious condition was throughout in analogy with that of the entire condition of our present life, and in conformity with his own rule of the probable; that it is probable evidence only that is given to man in either case, and "probable evidence," as Bishop Butler says, "often of even wretchedly insufficient character." Nature, or rather God himself, everywhere cries aloud to us, "O mortals! certainty, demonstration, infallibility, are not for you, and shall not be given to you; for there must be a sphere for faith, hope, sincerity, diligence, patience." And as if to prove to us, not only that this evidence is what we must trust to, but that we safely may, He impels us by strong necessities of our lower nature operating on the higher (which would otherwise, perhaps, plead for the sceptic's inaction in relation to this as well as to another world) to play our part; if we stand shivering on the brink of action, necessity plunges us headlong in; if we fear to hoist the sail, the strength of the current of life snaps our moorings, and compels us to drive. I reminded him, that the general result also shows that, as man must, so he may, can, will, shall, (and so through all the moods and tenses of contingency,) do well; that faith in that same sort of evidence which the sceptic rejects when urged in behalf of religion, prompts the farmer to cast in his seed, though he can command no blink of sunshine, nor a drop of rain; the merchant to commit his treasures to the deep, though they may all go to the bottom, and sometimes do; the physician to essay the cure of his patient, though often half in doubt whether his remedy will kill or save. "It is," said I, "in that same faith that we build, and plant, and lay our little plans each day; sometimes coming to nothing, but generally, and according to the fidelity and manliness with which we have conducted ourselves, securing more than a return for the moral capital embarked; and even where this is not the case, issuing, when there have been the qualities which would naturally secure success, a vigor and robustness of character, which, like the rude health glowing in the weather-beaten mariner, who has buffeted with wind and wave, are a more precious recompense than success itself. In these examples God says to us in effect, 'On such evidence you must and shall act,' and shows us that we safely may. Without promising us absolute success in all our plans, or absolute truth in the investigation of evidence, he says, in either case, 'Do your best; be faithful to the light you have, diligent and conscientious in your investigations of available evidence, great or little,--act fearlessly on what appears the truth, and leave the rest to me.'" Harrington here asked the question I expected:--"But suppose different men coming (as they do) on religious subjects to different conclusions, after the diligence and fidelity of which you speak, what then?" "Then, if the fidelity and diligence have been absolute,--if all has been done which, under the circumstances, could be done,--I doubt not they are blameless. But I fear there are very few who can absolutely say this; and for those who cannot say it at all, their guilt is proportionate to the demands which the momentous nature of the subject made on diligence and fidelity." "I suppose" said he, with some hesitation, "you will not allow that I have exercised this impartial search; and yet, supposing that I have, will you not hold me blameless on the very principles now laid down?" It was a painful question; but I was resolved I would have nothing to reproach myself with; and therefore answered steadily, that it was not for me to judge the degree of blame which attached to his present state of mind, which I trusted was only transient; that the argument from sincerity was itself only one of the probable things of which we had been speaking; that, so subtle are the operations of the human mind, so mysterious the play of the passions and affections, the reason and conscience, so intimate the connection amongst all our powers and faculties, that it is one of the most difficult things to be able to say, with truth, that we are perfectly sincere; that I did not see any difficulty in believing that there is many a man who, without hesitation and without any conscious hypocrisy, would avow his sincerity, who, upon being suffered to look into his own mind through a moral solar microscope, would see there all sorts of misshapen monsters, and turn away from the spectacle with disgust and horror; that such a microscope (to speak in figure) might one day be applied by that Power to whom only the human heart is fully known. I added, however, that, if I knew more of his mental history for some years past, (into which my affection-should never induce me impertinently to pry,) I might, perhaps, in some measure, account for his scepticism; that I could even conceive cases of minds so "encompassed with infirmity," or so dependent on states of health, as to render such a state involuntary, and therefore to take them out of the sphere of our argument. But, apart from some such causes, I plainly told him I could not permit myself to believe that religious scepticism could be free from heavy blame, if only on the ground that such as feel it do not act consistently with its maxims in other cases, where the evidence is of the same dubious nature, or rather is much more dubious. The parallel case would be, (if we could find it,) of a man whose interest urgently required him to act one way or the other, and who, instead of acting accordingly, sat down in absolute inaction, on the score that he did not know what course to pursue. That indecision would be always blamable. "Ah!" said I, "those cool heads and skilful hands which pilot the little bark of their worldly fortunes amidst such dangerous rocks and breakers, under such dark and stormy skies, what can they say, if asked why they gave up all thought of religion on the score of doubt, when its hopes are at least as high as those of the schemes of earthly success, and its claims at least as strong as those of present duty? What will they be able to say? "O Harrington!" I continued, in some such words as these, "supposing the draught of our present condition not to be such as I have sketched; that the sceptical view of the gloom in which we are placed is the true one, and that the Christian's is false; which, nevertheless, is likely to be not merely the happier, but the nobler being,--he who sits down in querulous repining or slothful inactivity, as the result of doubt, or he who, buoyant with faith and hope, encounters the gloom, and, while longing for the dawn, is confident that it will come? But if that sketch be a true one,--if the trial of which I have spoken be necessary for you and for all, to develop and discipline those qualities which alone will elicit and mature an Immortal Virtue, and secure to us at last the privilege of indefectible 'children of God,'--then with what feelings will you hear the Great Master say, 'In every other case but this, you acted on the principles and maxims by which I taught you (not obscurely) that I summoned you to act in this case also: doubts and difficulties were necessary to you as to all, and I exacted of you no more than were necessary ultimately to secure for you an eternal exemption from them. But because you could not have that certainty which the very necessity of the case excluded, you declined the trial, and have accounted yourself unworthy of eternal life!' Ah! how different if you could hear him say, 'It was indeed a temptation; amidst numberless blessings denied to others, I yet gave you, too, your trial;--the questionable talent of an inquisitive intellect, and leisure to use or abuse it. Tempted to absolute doubt, you would not succumb to it; you would not be so inconsistent here as to relinquish those maxims on which I compelled you to act in every other case in life, nor deny to ME the confidence which you granted to every common friend! Warned by the very misery which was sent to caution you that in that direction lay death, you struggled against the incursions of your subtle foes, and you overcame. Welcome, child of clay! welcome to that world in which there is no more NIGHT!'" We had been talking on till long past midnight; and the lamp suddenly warned us that its light was just expiring. Harrington took off the shade, and was about to light a candle by the dying flame, when it went out. "It matters not," he said, "I have the means of kindling a light close at hand." "Let it alone," said I, rising, and gently laying my hand on his arm, and speaking in a low voice, but with much earnestness; "this darkness is an emblem of our present life. You cannot see me, but you hear my voice and feel the touch of my hand. For any thing you know, I may be seized with a sudden fit of insanity. I may be about to stab you in this darkness; such things have been. You have lost, with the light, more than half the indications of affection which that would disclose. But you trust to the probable; your pulse does not beat any the quicker, nor do your nerves tremble. You may have similar, nay, how much stronger proofs (if you will) of the confidence with which you may trust God, and Him, the compassionate One, "whom he hath sent," in spite of all the gloom in which this life is involved. That certainty for which you have just now asked will only be granted when the darkness is passed away; and then you will 'rejoice in the light of his countenance.' And, further," I continued, "there is yet one thing which I wish to say to you; and I feel as if I could say it better in this darkness; for I will not venture to say that I should not manifest more feeling than is consistent in a hard-hearted metaphysician. Yes! it is on the side of feeling that I would also address you. You will say, feeling is not argument? No; but is man all reason? I firmly believe, indeed, that man is not called upon to do any thing for which his reason does not tell him that he has sufficient evidence; but a part of that very evidence is often the dictate of feeling; and genuine reason will listen to the heart, as not always, nor perhaps more frequently than otherwise, a suspicious pleader. If, as Pascal says so truly, it sometimes has its reasons which the reason cannot comprehend, it has also its reasons which the reason thoroughly understands. "You were early an orphan; you do not remember your mother; but I do; ah, how well! I saw her the last time she ever saw you. You were brought to her bedside when she was in the full possession of all her faculties, and deeply conscious that she had not many hours to live. She looked at you as you were held in your nurse's arms, smiling upon her with to me an agonizing unconsciousness of your approaching orphanage. She gazed upon you with that intense look of inexpressible affection which only maternal love, sharpened by death, can give; she looked long and earnestly, but spoke not one syllable. As you were at length taken from the room, she followed you with her eyes till the door closed, and then it seemed as if the light of this world had been quenched in them for ever. 'I charge you,' she said at length, 'let me see him again.' I made a motion as if to recall the attendant 'Not here,' she added, laying her hand gently on my arm, and I understood her but too well. You know whether I have in any degree fulfilled my trust. But is it possible that I can think of an utter failure, and not be more than troubled? And if Christianity be true, and if I am so happy as to obtain admission to that 'blessed country into which an enemy never entered, and from which a friend never went away,' and she whom I loved so well should ask me why you come not,--that she had tarried for you long,--must I say that you will never come? that her child had wandered from the fold of the Good Shepherd, and had gone I knew not whither? that I sought him in the lonely glens and mountains, but found him not? I hardly know, but I almost think--such was the love she had for you--that such reply would shade that radiant face even amidst the glories of Paradise. And now--let all this be a dream--suppose that not simply by your own fault you will never see that mother more, but that from the sad truth of your no truth--you never can; that the 'Vale, vale, in aeternum, vale,' is all that you can say to her: yet I say this,--that to live only in the hope of the possibility of fulfilling the better wishes of such a friend, and rejoining her for ever in (if you will) the fabulous 'islands of the blest,' would not only make you a happier, but even a nobler, being than your present mood can ever make you. My FABULOUS is better than your TRUE." I felt that he was not unmoved. I was myself moved too much to allow me to stay any longer, and saying that I could find my way very well to my chamber in the dark, where I had the means of kindling a light, I softly closed the door and left him. ____ As I was to leave very early in the morning, I had told Harrington that I should depart for the neighboring town (whither his servant was to drive me) without disturbing him. But I could not tear myself away, after the singular close of our interview on the last evening, without a more express farewell. I tapped at his chamber door, but, receiving no reply, gently entered. He was resting in unquiet slumber. A table, lamp, and books, by his bedside, bore witness to his perseverance in that pernicious habit which he had early formed! I gently drew back one of the curtains, and let in the light of the summer morning on his pallid, but most speaking features, and gazed on them with a sad and foreboding feeling. I recalled those days when I used nightly to visit the slumbers of the little orphan, and trace in his features the image of his mother. He was not aroused by my entrance; most likely he had sunk to slumber at a late hour. Presently he began to talk in his sleep, which was almost a constant habit in his younger days, and which I used to consider one of the symptoms of that intense cerebral activity by which he was distinguished. On the present occasion I thought I could interpret the fitful and fleeting images which were chasing each other by the laws of association through his mind. "But how shall I know that these thing which I call real, are different from the phenomena of sleep which I call real?" Alas! thought I, the ruling passion is strong in sleep, as in waking moments! How I dread lest it should be strong "in death" itself, of which this sleep is the image! After a pause, an expression of deepest sadness crept over the features, and he murmured, with a slight alteration, two lines from Coleridge's translation of that glorious scene in which Wallenstein looks forth into the windy night in search of his "star," and thinks of that brighter light of his life which had been just extinguished. Harrington used to say, that he preferred the translation of that scene even to the magnificent original itself. These lines, (now a little varied,) I had often heard him quote with delight:-- "Methinks If I but saw her, 't would be well with me; She was the star of my nativity." Was he, by the magic of dream-land, transported back to childhood? Was he as an orphan child thinking of his mother, the image of whose dying hours I had so recently called up before him? Or was it the recollection of a still brighter and more recently extinguished "star," which thus troubled his wandering fancy?--There was another pause, and again the fitful breeze of association awakened the sad and plaintive melody of the AEolian lyre; but I could not distinguish the words. Presently the scene again changed; and he suddenly said, "Beautiful shadow! if thou art a shadow,--thou hast said, Come to me all ye that are weary,--and surely if ever man was weary--To whom can I go--" It was with intense feeling that I watched for something more; but to my disappointment, (I may almost call it anguish,) he continued silent. I could not find it in my heart to rouse him, and, softly leaving the chamber, departed for home. ____ October 31. The young Sceptic has since gone where doubts are solved for ever; but I am not without hope, that in his last hours he was able to finish the sentence which his dream-left incomplete. "To whom can I go, but unto Thee? THOU ONLY HAST THE WORDS OF ETERNAL LIFE." For me, I have nothing more to live for here. In a few weeks I gladly go to join my brother in his distant exile;--and for Thee, my Country, "Peace be within thy dwellings, and prosperity within thy palaces!" And that it may be so, may that Christianity, which, all imperfectly as it has been exemplified, has yet been thy Palladium and thy Glory, be ever and increasingly dear to thee! ____ December 27. I have resolved that the fragments which originally constituted this journal shall not be destroyed. I have employed the interval since the last date in adapting and disguising them for publication. How far an embroidery of fiction has been necessary in attaining this object, is a matter of no consequence to any one; since the book aspires to none of the appropriate attractions of either a novel or a history. No doubt a much stronger interest, of a certain kind, might have been secured by a free employment of fictitious embellishment, or even by a more liberal indulgence in biographical details. But I have been content, for a special object, to do what some tell us is to be done with the Bible,--to separate, from the mass of incident which might have varied or adorned the narrative the exclusively "Religious Element." If the discussions in the preceding pages shall in any instance convince the youthful reader of the precarious nature of those modern book-revelations which are somewhat inconsistently given us in books which tell us that all book-revelations of religious truth are superfluous or even impossible; if they shall convince him how easily an impartial doubter can retort with interest the deistical arguments against Christianity, or how little merely insoluble objections can avail against any thing; if they shall convince him that the differences with which the assailants of the Bible taunt its advocates are neither so numerous nor half so appalling as those which divide its enemies; or, lastly, if they shall, par avarice, in any degree protect those who, like Harrington D----, are being made, or are in danger of being made, sceptical as to all religious truth, by the religious distractions of the present day,--I shall be well content to bear the charge of having spoiled a Fiction, or even of having mutilated a Biography. F.B. THE END. 
18168	----	THE HEAVENLY FATHER. Lectures on Modern Atheism. BY ERNEST NAVILLE, CORRESPONDING MEMBER OF THE INSTITUTE OF FRANCE (ACADEMY OF THE MORAL AND POLITICAL SCIENCES), LATE PROFESSOR OF PHILOSOPHY IN THE UNIVERSITY OF GENEVA. TRANSLATED FROM THE FRENCH BY HENRY DOWNTON, M.A., ENGLISH CHAPLAIN AT GENEVA. --"To this deplorable error I desire to oppose faith in GOD as it has been given to the world by the Gospel--faith in the HEAVENLY FATHER." _Author's Letter to Professor Faraday_ (v. p. 193). BOSTON: WILLIAM V. SPENCER 1867. CAMBRIDGE: PRESS OF JOHN WILSON AND SON. PREFACE. These Lectures, in their original form, were delivered at Geneva, and afterwards at Lausanne, before two auditories which together numbered about two thousand five hundred men. A Swiss Review published considerable portions of them, which had been taken down in short-hand, and on reading these portions, several persons, belonging to different countries, conceived the idea of translating the work when completed by the Author, and corrected for publication. Proof-sheets were accordingly sent to the translators as they came from the press: and thus this volume will appear pretty nearly at the same time in several of the languages of Europe. The hearty kindness with which my fellow-countrymen received my words has been to me both a delight and an encouragement. The expressions of sympathy which have reached me from abroad allow me to hope that these pages, notwithstanding the deficiencies and imperfections of which I am keenly sensible, reflect some few of the rays of the truth which God has deposited on the earth, thereby to unite in the same faith and hope men of every tongue and every nation. ERNEST NAVILLE. GENEVA, _May, 1865_. NOTE BY THE TRANSLATOR. The appearance of this translation so long after that of the original work is in contradiction to the foregoing statement of the Author, that it would appear at nearly the same time with it. The delay has been due to causes beyond the translator's control--in part to the difficulty of revising the press at so great a distance from the place of publication, the translator being resident at Geneva. This latter circumstance causes an exception in another particular as regards this translation, the proposal to translate the Lectures having been made to the Author, and kindly accepted by him, during the course of their delivery at Geneva. The mere statement by the Author of the numbers, large as they were, of those who formed the auditories, can give but a small idea of the enthusiasm with which they were received by the crowds which thronged to hear them, and which were composed of all classes of persons, from the most distinguished savant to the intelligent artisan. It is not to be expected that the Lectures when read, even in the original, and still less in a translation, can produce the vivid impression which they made on those, who, with the translator, had the privilege of hearing them delivered,--the Author having few rivals, on the Continent or elsewhere, in the graces of polished eloquence; but the subjects treated are, it is to be feared, of increasing importance, not abroad only, but in England; and in fact one Lecture, the fourth, is in a large measure occupied with forms of atheism which owe their chief support to English authors. In that Lecture the Author shows that the spiritual origin of man cannot "be put out of sight beneath details of physiology and researches of natural history," and that these not only "cannot settle," but "cannot so much as touch the question." The same Lecture is occupied in part by a practical refutation of the prejudice against religion drawn from the irreligious character of many men of science. The Author's subject has led him in the present work to confine his illustrations on this head to the question of natural religion: but the translator will avow that a main motive with him to undertake the labor of this translation has been the wish to prove, in the instance of the distinguished Author himself, that men of incontestable eminence as metaphysical philosophers may hold and profess boldly their faith in doctrines, which many who affect to guide the religious opinions of our youth would teach them to despise as the heritage of narrow minds, and to cast away as incompatible with the highest intellectual cultivation. Such doctrines are those of the fall and ruin of man by nature, the necessity for Divine agency in his recovery, his need of propitiation by the sacrifice of the God-Man--_l'Homme-Dieu_. These truths are explicitly stated by the Author in his former course of lectures--_La Vie Eternelle_,[1] in which, while discoursing eloquently on that eternal life which is the portion of the righteous, he does not shrink from declaring his belief in its awful counterpart, the eternal condemnation of the wicked. "The offence of the Cross" has not "ceased," and many finding that these are the opinions of this Author, will perhaps lay down his book as unworthy of their attention: yet the editor, biographer, and expositor of the great French thinker, Maine de Biran, will not need introduction to the intellectual magnates of our own or of any country. The translator will be thankful, if some of those,--the youth more especially,--of his own country, who have been dazzled by the glare of false science, shall find in this work a help to the reassuring of their faith, while they learn in a fresh example that there are men quite competent to deal with the profoundest problems which can exercise our thoughts, who at the same time have come to a conviction,--compatible as they believe with principles of the clearest reason,--of the truth of those very doctrines which form the substance of evangelical Christianity. In saying this, the translator is far from claiming the Author as belonging to the same school of theology with himself: but differing with him on some important points, he has yet believed that this volume is calculated to be of much use in the present condition of religious thought in England, and in this hope and prayer he commends it to the blessing of Him, whose being and attributes, as our God and Father in Jesus Christ, are therein asserted and defended. GENEVA, _November, 1865_. FOOTNOTE: [1] A translation of this work, by an English lady, has been published by Mr. Dalton, 28, Cockspur street. CONTENTS. LECTURE I. PAGE OUR IDEA OF GOD 1 LECTURE II. LIFE WITHOUT GOD 43 PART I.--THE INDIVIDUAL 45 PART II.--SOCIETY 72 LECTURE III. THE REVIVAL OF ATHEISM 117 LECTURE IV. NATURE 175 LECTURE V. HUMANITY 245 LECTURE VI. THE CREATOR 297 LECTURE VII. THE FATHER 340 LECTURE I. _OUR IDEA OF GOD._ (At Geneva, 17th Nov. 1863.--At Lausanne, 11th Jan. 1864.) GENTLEMEN, Some five-and-twenty or thirty years ago, a German writer published a piece of verse which began in this way: "Our hearts are oppressed with the emotions of a pious sadness, at the thought of the ancient Jehovah who is preparing to die." The verses were a dirge upon the death of the living God; and the author, like a well educated son of the nineteenth century, bestowed a few poetic tears upon the obsequies of the Eternal. I was young when these strange words met my eyes, and they produced in me a kind of painful bewilderment, which has, I think, for ever engraven them in my memory. Since then, I have had occasion to learn by many tokens that this fact was not at all an exceptional one, but that men of influence, famous schools, important tendencies of the modern mind, are agreed in proclaiming that the time of religion is over, of religion in all its forms, of religion in the largest sense of the word. Beneath the social disturbances of the day, beneath the discussions of science, beneath the anxiety of some and the sadness of others, beneath the ironical and more or less insulting joy of a few, we read at the foundation of many intellectual manifestations of our time these gloomy words: "Henceforth no more God for humanity!" What may well send a shudder of fright through society--more than threatening war, more than possible revolution, more than the plots which may be hatching in the dark against the security of persons or of property--is, the number, the importance, and the extent of the efforts which are making in our days to extinguish in men's souls their faith in the living God. This fear, Gentlemen, I should wish to communicate to you, but I should wish also to confine it within its just limits. Religion (I take this term in its most general acceptation) is not, as many say that it is, either dead or dying. I want no other proof of this than the pains which so many people are taking to kill it. It is often those who say that it is dead, or falling rapidly into dissolution, who apply themselves to this work. They are too generous, no doubt, to make a violent attack upon a corpse; and it is easy to understand, judging by the intensity of their exertions, that in their own opinion they have something else to do than to give a finishing stroke to the dying. Present circumstances are serious, not for religion itself, which cannot be imperilled, but for minds which run the risk of losing their balance and their support. Let it be observed, however, that when it is said that we are living in extraordinary times, that we are passing through an unequalled crisis, that the like of what we see was never seen before, and so on, we must always regard conclusions of this nature with distrust. Our personal interest in the circumstances which immediately surround us produces on them for us the magnifying effect of a microscope: and our principal reason for thinking that our epoch is more extraordinary than others, is for the most part that we are living in our own epoch, and have not lived in others. A mind attentive to this fact, and so placed upon its guard against all tendency to exaggeration, will easily perceive that religious thought has in former times passed through shocks as profound and as dangerous as those of which we are witnesses. Still the crisis is a real one. Taking into account its extent in our days, we may say that it is new for the generation to which we belong; and it is worthy of close consideration. To-day, as an introduction to this grave subject, I should wish first to determine as precisely as possible what is our idea of God; to inquire next from what sources we derive it; and lastly to point out, as clearly as I may, the limits and the nature of the discussion to which I invite you. In asking what sense we must give to the word "God," I am not going to propose to you a metaphysical definition, or any system of my own: I am inquiring what is in fact the idea of God in the bosom of modern society, in the souls which live by this idea, in the hearts of which it constitutes the joy, in the consciences of which it is the support. When our thoughts rise above nature and humanity to that invisible Being whom we speak of as God, what is it which passes in our souls? They fear, they hope, they pray, they offer thanksgiving. If a man finds himself in one of those desperate positions in which all human help fails, he turns towards Heaven, and says, My God! If we are witnesses of one of those instances of revolting injustice which stir the conscience in its profoundest depths, and which could not on earth meet with adequate punishment, we think within ourselves,--There is a Judge on high! If we are reproved by our own conscience, the voice of that conscience, which disturbs and sometimes torments us, reminds us that though we may be shut out from all human view, there is no less an Eye which sees us, and a just award awaiting us. Thus it is (I am seeking to establish facts) that the thought of God operates, so to speak, in the souls of those who believe in Him. If you look for the meaning common to all these manifestations of man's heart, what do you find? Fear, hope, thanksgiving, prayer. To whom is all this addressed? To a Power intelligent and free, which knows us, and is able to act upon our destinies. This is the idea which is found at the basis of all religions; not only of the religion of the only God, but of the most degraded forms of idolatrous worship. All religion rests upon the sentiment of one or more invisible Powers, superior to nature and to humanity. When philosophical curiosity is awakened, it disengages from the general sentiment of power the definite idea of the cause which becomes the explanation of the phenomena. The reason of man, by virtue of its very constitution, finds a need of conceiving of an absolute cause which escapes by its eternity the lapse of time, and by its infinite character the bounds of limited existences; a principle, the necessary being of which depends on no other; in a word a unique cause, establishing by its unity the universal harmony. So, when reason meets with the idea of the sole and Almighty Creator, it attaches itself to it as the only thought which accounts to it for the world and for itself. The Creator is, first of all, He whose glory the heavens declare, while the earth makes known the work of His hands. He is the Mighty One and the Wise, whose will has given being to nature, and who directs at once the chorus of stars in the depths of the heavens, and the drop of vital moisture in the herb which we tread under foot. If, after having looked around, we turn our regard in upon ourselves, we then discover other heavens, spiritual heavens, in which shine, like stars of the first magnitude, those objects which cause the heart of man to beat, so long as he is not self-degraded: truth, goodness, beauty. Now we feel that we are made for this higher world. Material enjoyments may enchain our will; we may, in the indulgence of unworthy passions, pursue what in its essence is only evil, error, and deformity; but, if all the rays of our true nature are not extinguished, a voice issues from the depth of our souls and protests against our debasement. Our aspirations toward these spiritual excellences are unlimited. Our thought sets out on its course: have we solved one question? immediately new questions arise, which press, no less than the former, for an answer. Our conscience speaks: have we come in a certain degree to realize what is right and good? immediately conscience demands of us still more. Is our feeling for beauty awakened? Well, sirs, when an artist is satisfied with the work of his hands, do you not know at once what to think of him? Do you not know that that man will never do any thing great, who does not see shining in his horizon an ideal which stamps as imperfect all that he has been able to realize? The voice which urges us on through life from the cradle to the grave, and which, without allowing us a moment's pause, is ever crying--Forward! forward! this voice is not more imperious than the noble instinct which, in the view of beauty, of truth, of good, is also saying to us--Forward! forward! and, with the American poet, _Excelsior!_ higher, ever higher! Many of you know that instinct familiar to the _climbers of the Alps_,[2] as they are called, who, arrived at one summit, have no rest so long as there remains a loftier height in view. Such is our destiny; but the last peak is veiled in shining clouds which conceal it from our sight. Perfection,--this is the point to which our nature aspires; but it is the ladder of Jacob: we see the foot which rests upon the earth; the summit hides itself from our feeble view amidst the splendors of the infinite. These objects of our highest desires--beauty in its supreme manifestation, absolute holiness, infinite truth--are united in one and the same thought--God! The attributes of the spiritual are never in us but as borrowed attributes; they dwell naturally in Him who is their source. God is the truth, not only because He knows all things, but because He is the very object of our thoughts; because, when we study the universe, we do but spell out some few of the laws which He has imposed on things; because, to know truth is never any thing else than to know the creation or the Creator, the world or its eternal Cause. God it is who must be Himself the satisfaction of that craving of the conscience which urges us towards holiness. If we had arrived at the highest degree of virtue, what should we have done? We should have realized the plan which He has proposed to spiritual creatures in their freedom, at the same time that He is directing the stars in their courses by that other word which they accomplish without having heard it. God is the eternal source of beauty. He it is who has shed grace upon our valleys, and majesty upon our mountains; and He, again, it is (I quote St. Augustine) who acts within the souls of artists, those great artists, who, urged unceasingly towards the regions of the ideal, feel themselves drawn onwards towards a divine world. God then above all is He who _is_,--the Absolute, the Infinite, the Eternal,--in the ever mysterious depths of His own essence. In His relation to the world, He is the cause; in His relation to the lofty aspirations of the soul, He is the ideal. He is the ideal, because being the absolute cause, He is the unique source, at the same time that He is the object, of our aspirations: He is the absolute cause, because being He who _is_, in His supreme unity, nothing could have existence except by the act of His power. We are able already to recognize here, in passing, the source at which are fed the most serious aberrations of religious thought. Are truth, holiness, beauty considered separately from the real and infinite Spirit in which is found their reason for existing? We see thus appear philosophies noble in their commencement, but which soon descend a fatal slope. The divine, so-called, is spoken of still; but the divine is an abstraction, and apart from God has no real existence. If truth, beauty, holiness are not the attributes of an eternal mind, but the simple expression of the tendencies of our soul, man may render at first a sort of worship to these lofty manifestations of his own nature; but logic, inexorable logic, forces him soon to dismiss the divine to the region of chimeras. These rays are extinguished together with their luminous centre; the soul loses the secret of its destinies, and, in the measureless grief which possesses it, it proclaims at length that all is vanity. We shall have, in the sequel, to be witnesses together of this sorrowful spectacle. Such is the basis of our idea of God: we must now discover its summit. Before the thought of this Sovereign Being, by whose Will are all things, and who is without cause and without beginning, our soul is overwhelmed. We are so feeble! the thought of absolute power crushes us. Creatures of a day, how should we understand the Eternal? Frail as we are, and evil, we tremble at the idea of holiness. But milder accents, as you know, have been heard upon the earth: This Sovereign God--He loves us. In proportion as this idea gains possession of our understanding, in the same proportion our soul has glimpses of the paths of peace. He loves us, and we take courage. He hears us, and prayer rises to Him with the hope of being heard. He governs all, and we confide in His Providence. When your gaze is directed towards the depths of the sky, does it never happen to you to remain in a manner terrified, as you contemplate those worlds which without end are added to other worlds? As you fix your thoughts upon the immeasurable abysses of the firmament,--as you say to yourselves that how far soever you put back the boundary of the skies, if the universe ended there, then the universe, with its suns and its groups of stars, would still be but a solitary lamp, shining as a point in the midst of the limitless darkness,--have you never experienced a sort of mysterious fright and giddiness? At such a time turn your eyes upon nearer objects. He who has made the heavens with their immensity, is He who makes the corn to spring forth for your sustenance, who clothes the fields with the flowers which rejoice your sight, who gives you the fresh breath of morning, and the calm of a lovely evening: it is He, without whose permission nothing occurs, who watches over you and over those you love. Possess yourselves thoroughly with this thought of love, then lift once more your eyes to the sky, and from every star, and from the worlds which are lost in the furthest depths of space, shall fall upon your brow, no longer clouded, a ray of love and of peace. Then with a feeling of sweet affiance you will adopt as your own those words of an ancient prophet: "Whither shall I go from Thy Spirit, or whither shall I flee from Thy Presence? If I ascend up into heaven, Thou art there: if I make my bed in hell, behold, Thou art there. If I take the wings of the morning, and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea; even there shall Thy hand lead me, and Thy right hand shall hold me:"[3] then you will understand those grand and sweet words of Saint Augustine, some of the most beautiful that ever fell from the lips of a man: "Are you afraid of God? Run to His arms!" Thus our idea of God is completed,--the idea of Him whom, in a feeling of filial confidence, we name the Father, and whom we call the _Heavenly_ Father, while we adore that absolute holiness, of which the pure brightness of the firmament is for us the visible and magnificent symbol. Goodness is the secret of the universe; goodness it is which has directed power, and placed wisdom at its service. My object is not to teach this idea, but to defend it: it is not, I say, to teach it, for we all possess it. There is no one here who has not received his portion of the sacred deposit. This sacred idea may be veiled by our sorrows, perverted by our errors, obscured by our faults; but, however thick be the layer of ashes heaped together in the depth of our souls--look closely: the sacred spark is not extinguished, and a favorable breath may still rekindle the flame. We have considered the essential elements of which our idea of God is composed. And whence comes this idea? What is its historical origin? I do not ask what is the historical origin of religion, for religion does not take its rise in history; it is met with everywhere and always in humanity. Those who deny this are compelled to "search in the darkness for some obscure example known only to themselves, as if all natural inclinations were destroyed by the corruption of a people, and as if, as soon as there are any monsters, the species were no longer any thing."[4] The consciousness of a world superior to the domain of experience is one of the attributes characteristic of our nature. "If there had ever been, or if there still anywhere existed, a people entirely destitute of religion, it would be in consequence of an exceptional downfall which would be tantamount to a lapse into animality."[5] I am not therefore inquiring after the origin of the idea and sentiment of the Deity, in a general sense, but after the origin of the idea of the only and Almighty Creator as we possess it. In fact, if religion is universal, distinct knowledge of the Creator is not so. Our own past strikes its roots into the historic soil which, in the matter of creeds, is known by the name of paganism or idolatry. At first sight what do we find in the opinions of that ancient world? No trace of the divine unity. Adoration is dispersed over a thousand different beings. Not only are the heavenly bodies adored and the powers of nature, but men, animals, and inanimate objects. The feeling of the holiness of God is not less wanting, it would seem, than the idea of His unity. Religion serves as a pretext for the unchaining of human passions. This is the case unfortunately with religion in general, and the true religion is no exception to the rule: but what characterizes paganism is that in its case religion, by its own proper nature, favors the development of immorality. Celebrated shrines become the dens of a prostitution which forms part of the homage rendered to the gods; the religious rites of ancient Asia, and those of Greece which fell under their influence, are notorious for their lewdness. The temples of false deities, too often defiled by debauchery, are too often also dishonored by frightful sacrifices. The ancient civilization of Mexico was elegant and even refined in some respects; but the altars were stained, every year, with the blood of thousands of human beings; and the votaries of this sanguinary worship devoured, in solemn banquets, the quivering limbs of the victims. Let us not look for examples too far removed from the civilization which has produced our own. In the Greek and Roman world, the stories of the gods were not very edifying, as every one knows: the worship of Bacchus gave no encouragement to temperance, and the festivals of Venus were not a school of chastity. It would be easy, by bringing together facts of this sort, to form a picture full of sombre coloring, and to conclude that our idea of God, the idea of the only and holy God, does not proceed from the impure sources of idolatry. The proceeding would be brief and convenient; but such an estimation of the facts, false because incomplete, would destroy the value of the conclusion. In pagan antiquity, in fact, the abominations of which I have just reminded you did not by themselves make up religious tradition. Side by side with a current of darkness and impurity, we meet with a current of pure ideas and of strong gleams of the day. Almost all the pagans seem to have had a glimpse of the Divine unity over the multiplicity of their idols, and of the rays of the Divine holiness across the saturnalia of their Olympi. It was a Greek who wrote these words: "Nothing is accomplished on the earth without Thee, O God, save the deeds which the wicked perpetrate in their folly."[6] It was in a theatre at Athens that the chorus of a tragedy sang, more than two thousand years ago: "May destiny aid me to preserve unsullied the purity of my words and of all my actions, according to those sublime laws which, brought forth in the celestial heights, have Heaven alone for their father, to which the race of mortal men did not give birth, and which oblivion shall never entomb. In them is a supreme God, and one who waxes not old."[7] It would be easy to multiply quotations of this order, and to show you in the documents of Grecian and Roman civilization numerous traces of the knowledge of the only and holy God. Listen now to a voice which has come forth actually from the recesses of the sepulchre: it reaches us from ancient Egypt. In Egypt, as you know, the degradation of the religious idea was in popular practice complete. But, under the confused accents of superstition, the science of our age is succeeding in catching from afar the vibrations of a sublime utterance. In the coffins of a large number of mummies have been discovered rolls of papyrus containing a sacred text which is called the _Book of the Dead_. Here is the translation of some fragments which appear to date from a very remote epoch. It is God who speaks: "I am the Most Holy, the Creator of all that replenishes the earth, and of the earth itself, the habitation of mortals. I am the Prince of the infinite ages. I am the great and mighty God, the Most High, shining in the midst of the careering stars and of the armies which praise me above thy head.... It is I who chastise and who judge the evil-doers, and the persecutors of godly men. I discover and confound the liars.... I am the all-seeing Judge and Avenger ... the guardian of my laws in the land of righteousness."[8] These words are found mingled, in the text from which I extract them, with allusions to inferior deities; and it must be acknowledged that the translation of the ancient documents of Egypt is still uncertain enough. Still this uncertainty does not appear to extend to the general sense and bearing of the recent discoveries of our savants. Myself a simple learner from the masters of the science, I can only point out to you the result of their studies. Now, this is what the masters tell us as to the actual state of mythological studies. Traces are found almost everywhere, in the midst of idolatrous superstitions, of a religion comparatively pure, and often stamped with a lofty morality. Paganism is not a simple fact: it offers to view in the same bed two currents, the one pure and the other impure. What is the relation between these two currents? A passage in a writer of the Latin Church throws a vivid light upon their actual relation in practical life. It is thus that Lactantius expresses himself: "When man (the pagan) finds himself in adversity, then it is that he has recourse to God (to the only God). If the horrors of war threaten him, if there appear a contagious disease, a drought, a tempest, then he has recourse to God.... If he is overtaken by a storm at sea, and is in danger of perishing, immediately he calls upon God; if he finds himself in any urgent peril, he has recourse to God.... Thus men bethink themselves of God when they are in trouble; but as soon as the danger is past, and they are no longer in any fear, we see them return with joy to the temples of the false gods, make to them libations, and offer sacrifices to them."[9] This is a striking picture of the workings of man's heart in all ages; for, as our author observes, "God is never so much forgotten of men as when they are quietly enjoying the favors and blessings which He sends them."[10] As regards our special object, this page reveals in a very instructive manner the religious condition of heathen antiquity. The thought of the sovereign God was stifled without being extinguished; it awoke beneath the pressure of anguish; but ordinary life, the life of every day, belonged to the easy worship of idols. It may now be asked what is the historical relation between the two currents of paganism of which we have just established the actual relation in practical life. Did humanity begin with a coarse fetichism, and thence rise by slow degrees to higher conceptions? Do the traces of a comparatively pure monotheism first show themselves in the most recent periods of idolatry? Contemporary science inclines more and more to answer in the negative. It is in the most ancient historical ground (allow me these geological terms) that the laborious investigators of the past meet with the most elevated ideas of religion. Cut to the ground a young and vigorous beech-tree, and come back a few years afterwards: in place of the tree cut down you will find coppice-wood; the sap which nourished a single trunk has been divided amongst a multitude of shoots. This comparison expresses well enough the opinion which tends to prevail amongst our savants on the subject of the historical development of religions. The idea of the only God is at the root,--it is primitive; polytheism is derivative. A forgotten, and as it were slumbering, monotheism exists beneath the worship of idols; it is the concealed trunk which supports them, but the idols have absorbed all the sap. The ancient God (allow me once more a comparison) is like a sovereign confined in the interior of his palace: he is but seldom thought of, and only on great occasions; his ministers alone act, entertain requests, and receive the real homage. The proposition of the historical priority of monotheism is very important, and is not universally admitted. It will therefore be necessary to show you, by a few quotations at least, that I am not speaking rashly. One of the most accredited mythologists of our time, Professor Grimm, of Berlin, writes as follows: "The monotheistic form appears to be the more ancient, and that out of which antiquity in its infancy formed polytheism.... All mythologies lead us to this conclusion."[11] Among the French savants devoted to the study of ancient Egypt, the Vicomte de Rongé stands in the foremost rank. This is what he tells us: "In Egypt the supreme God was called the one God, living indeed, He who made all that exists, who created other beings. He is the Generator existing alone who made the heaven and created the earth." The writer informs us that these ideas are often found reproduced "in writings the date of which is anterior to Moses, and many of which formed part of the most ancient sacred hymns;" then he comes to this conclusion: "Egypt, in possession of an admirable fund of doctrines respecting the essence of God, and the immortality of the soul, did not for all that defile herself the less by the most degrading superstitions; we have in her, sufficiently summed up, the religious history of all antiquity."[12] As regards the civilization which flourished in India, M. Adolphe Pictet, in his learned researches on the subject of the primitive Aryas, arrives, in what concerns the religious idea, at the following conclusion: "To sum up: primitive monotheism of a character more or less vague, passing gradually into a polytheism still simple, such appears to have been the religion of the ancient Aryas."[13] One of our fellow-countrymen, who cultivates with equal modesty and perseverance the study of religious antiquities, has procured the greater part of the recent works published on these subjects in France, Germany, and England. He has read them, pen in hand, and, at my urgent request, he has kindly allowed me to look over his notes which have been long accumulating. I find the following sentence in the manuscripts which he has shown me: "The general impression of all the most distinguished mythologists of the present day is, that monotheism is at the foundation of all pagan mythology." The savants, I repeat, do not unanimously accept these conclusions: savants, like other men, are rarely unanimous. It is enough for my purpose to have shown that it is not merely the grand tradition guaranteed by the Christian faith, but also the most distinctly marked current of contemporary science, which tells us that God shone upon the cradle of our species. The august Form was veiled, and idolatry with its train of shameful rites shows itself in history as the result of a fall which calls for a restoration, rather than as the point of departure of a continued progress. The august Form was veiled. Who has lifted the veil? Not the priests of the idols. We meet in the history of paganism with movements of reformation, or, at the very least, of religious transformation: Buddhism is a memorable example of this; but it is not a return towards the pure traditions of India or of Egypt which has caused us to know the God whom we adore. Has the veil been lifted by reflection, that is to say by the labors of philosophers? Philosophy has rendered splendid services to the world. It has combated the abominations of idolatry; it has recognized in nature the proofs of an intelligent design; it has discerned in the reason the deeply felt need of unity; it has indicated in the conscience the sense of good, and shown its characteristics; it has contemplated the radiant image of the supreme beauty--still it is not philosophy which has restored for humanity the idea of God. Its lights mingled with darkness remained widely scattered, and without any focus powerful enough to give them strength for enlightening the world. To seek God, and consequently to know Him already in a certain measure; but to remain always before the altar of a God glimpsed only by an _élite_ of sages, and continuing for the multitudes the unknown God: such was the wisdom of the ancients. It prepared the soil; but it did not deposit in it the germ from which the idea of the Creator was to spring forth living and strong, to overshadow with its branches all the nations of the earth. And when this idea appeared in all its splendor, and began the conquest of the universe, the ancient philosophy, which had separated itself from heathen forms of worship, and had covered them with its contempt, contracted an alliance with its old adversaries. It accepted the wildest interpretations of the common superstitions, in order to be able to league itself with the crowd in one and the same conflict with the new power which had just appeared in the world. And this sums up in brief compass the whole history of philosophy in the first period of our era. The monotheism of the moderns does not proceed historically from paganism; it was prepared by the ancient philosophy, without being produced by it. Whence comes it then? On this head there exists no serious difference of opinion. Our knowledge of God is the result of a traditional idea, handed down from generation to generation in a well-defined current of history. Much obscurity still rests upon man's earliest religious history, but the truth which I am pointing out to you is solidly and clearly established. Pass, in thought, over the terrestrial globe. All the superstitions of which history preserves the remembrance are practised at this day, either in Asia or in Africa, or in the isles of the Ocean. The most ridiculous and ferocious rites are practised still in the light of the same sun which gilds, as he sets, the spires and domes of our churches. At this very day, there are nations upon the earth which prostrate themselves before animals, or which adore sacred trees. At this very day, perhaps at this hour in which I am addressing you, human victims are bound by the priests of idols; before you have left this room, their blood will have defiled the altars of false deities. At this very day, numerous nations, which have neither wanted time for self-development, nor any of the resources of civilization, nor clever poets, nor profound philosophers, belong to the religion of the Brahmins, or are instructed in the legends which serve as a mask to the pernicious doctrines of Buddha. Where do we meet with the clear idea of the Creator? In a unique tradition which proceeds from the Jews, which Christians have diffused, and which Mahomet corrupted. God is known, with that solid and general knowledge which founds a settled doctrine and a form of worship, under the influence of this tradition and nowhere else. We assert this as a simple fact of contemporary history; and there is scarcely any fact in history better established. The light comes to us from the Gospel. This light did not appear as a sudden and absolutely new illumination. It had cast pale gleams on the soul of the heathen in their search after the unknown God; it had shone apart upon that strange and glorious people which bears the name of Israel. Israel had preserved the primitive light encompassed by temporary safe-guards. It was the flame of a lamp, too feeble to live in the open air, and which remained shut up in a vase, until the moment when it should have become strong enough to shine forth from its shattered envelope upon the world. The worship of Jehovah is a local worship; but this worship, localized for a time, is addressed to the only and sovereign God. To every nation which says to Israel as Athaliah to Joash: I have my God to serve--serve thou thine own,[14] Israel replies with Joash: Nay, Madam, but my God is God alone; Him must thou fear: thy God is nought--a dream![15] Israel does not affirm merely that the God of Israel is the only true God, but affirms moreover that the time will come when all the earth will acknowledge Him for the only and universal Lord. A grand thought, a grand hope, is in the soul of this people, and assures it that all nations shall one day look to Jerusalem. Its prophets threaten, warn, denounce chastisements, predict terrible catastrophes; but in the midst of their severer utterances breaks forth ever and again the song of future triumph: Uplift, Jerusalem, thy queenly brow: Light of the nations, and their glory, thou![16] Thus is preserved in the ancient world the knowledge of God amongst an exceptional people, amidst the darkness of idolatry and the glimmerings of an imperfect wisdom. And not only is it preserved, but it shines with a brightness more and more vivid and pure. The conception of sovereignty which constitutes its foundation, is crowned as it advances by the conception of love. At length He appears by whom the universal Father was to be known of all. Have you not remarked the surprising simplicity with which Jesus speaks of His work? He speaks of the universe and of the future as a lawful proprietor speaks of his property. The field in which the Word shall be sown is the world. He introduces that worship in spirit and in truth before which all barriers shall fall. He knows that humanity belongs to Him; and when He foretells His peaceful conquest, one knows not which predominates in His words, simplicity or grandeur. Now this predicted work has been done, is being done, and will be done. No one entertains any serious doubt of this. The idea of God, as it exists amongst Christian peoples, bears on its brow the certain sign of victory. In many respects, we are passing through the world in times which are not extraordinary, and among things little worthy of lasting record. Still great events are being accomplished before our eyes. The ancient East is shaken to its foundations. The work of foreign missions is taken up again with fresh energy. Ships, as they leave the shores of Europe, carry with them,--together with those who travel for purposes of commerce, or from curiosity, or as soldiers,--those new crusaders who exclaim: God wills it! and are ready to march to their death in order to proclaim the God of life to nations plunged in darkness. The advances of industry, the developments of commerce, the calculations of ambition, all conspire to diffuse spiritual light over the globe. These are noble spectacles, revealing clearly the traces of a superior design, which the mighty of this world are accomplishing, even by the craft and violence of their policy: they are the manifest instruments of a Will to which oftentimes they are insensible. The knowledge of God is extending; and while it is extending, it is enriching itself with its own conquests. Just as it absorbed the living sap of the doctrines of the Greeks, so it is strengthening itself with the doctrines of the ancient East and of old Egypt, which an indefatigable science is bringing again to light. Christian thought is growing, not by receiving any foreign impulse from without, but like a vigorous tree, whose roots traverse new layers of a fertile soil. All truth comes naturally to the centre of truth as to its rallying-point; and to the universal prayer must be gathered all the pure accents gone astray in the superstitious invocations which rise from the banks of the Ganges or from the burning regions of Africa. The day will come, when our planet, in its revolutions about the sun, shall receive on no point of its surface the rays of the orb of day, without sending back, over the ruins of idol-temples for ever overthrown, a song of thanksgiving to the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, become through Jesus Christ the God of all mankind. We know now whence comes our idea of God: it is Christian in its origin. It proceeds from this source, not only for those who call themselves Christians, but for all those who, in the bosom of modern society, believe sincerely and seriously in God. But little study and reflection is required for the acknowledgment that the doctrines of our deists are the product of a reason which has been _evangelized_ without their own knowledge. They have not invented, but have received the thought, which constitutes the support of their life. A mind of ordinary cultivation is free henceforward from all danger of falling into the artless error of J.J. Rousseau, when he pretended that even though he had been born in a desert island and had never known a human being, he would have been able to draw up the confession of faith of the _Vicaire Savoyard_. The habit of historical research has dispelled these illusions. A French writer, distinguished for solid erudition, wrote not long ago: "The civilized world has received from Judea the foundations of its faith. It has learned of it these two things which pagan antiquity never knew--holiness and charity; for all holiness is derived from belief in a personal, spiritual God, Creator of the universe; and all charity from the doctrine of human brotherhood!"[17] Religion, in its most general sense, is found wherever there are men; but distinct knowledge of the Heavenly Father is the fruit of that word which comes to us from the borders of the Jordan,--a word in which all the true elements of ancient wisdom are found to have mutually drawn together, and strengthened each other. In the very heart of our civilization, those men of mind who succeed in freeing themselves in good earnest from the influence of this word come, oftener than not, to throw off all belief in the real and true God, if they have strength of mind enough properly to understand themselves. How is it that the full idea of the Creator,--an idea which true philosophers have sought after in all periods of history, and of which they have had, so to speak, glimpses and presentiments,--how is it that this idea is a living one only under the influence of the tradition which, proceeding originally from Abraham and Moses, has been continued by Jesus Christ? It is not impossible to point out the spiritual causes of this great historical phenomenon. Faith in God, in order to maintain itself in presence of the difficulties which rise in our minds, and--to come at once to the core of the question--the idea of the love of God, in order to maintain itself in presence of evil and of the power of evil on the earth, has need of resources which the Christian belief alone possesses. The knowledge of the Heavenly Father is essentially connected with the Gospel: this is the historical fact. This fact is accounted for by the existence of an organic bond between all the great Christian doctrines: this is my deliberate conviction. I frankly declare here my own opinions: to do so is for me a matter almost of honor and good faith; but I declare them, without desiring to lay any stress upon them in these lectures. My present object is to consider the idea of God by itself. I isolate it for my own purposes from Christian truth taken as a whole, but without making the separation in my thoughts. The thesis which I propose to maintain is common to all Christians, that is quite clear; but further; in a perfectly general sense, and in a merely abstract point of view, it is a proposition maintained equally by the disciples of Mahomet; it is maintained by J.J. Rousseau and the spiritualist philosophers who reproduce his thoughts. It is clear in fact that just as Jesus Christ is the corner-stone of all Christian doctrine, so God is the foundation common to all religions. Before concluding this lecture I desire to answer a question which may have suggested itself to some amongst you. What are we about when we take up a Christian idea in order to defend it by reasoning? Are we occupied about religion or philosophy? Are we treading upon the ground of faith, or on the ground of reason? Are we in the domain of tradition, or in that of free inquiry? I have no great love, Gentlemen, for hedges and enclosures. I know very well, better, perhaps, than many amongst you, because I have longer reflected on the subject, what are the differences which separate studies specially religious, from philosophical inquiries. But when the question relates to God, to the universal cause, we find ourselves at the common root of religion and philosophy, and distinctions, which exist elsewhere, disappear. Besides, these distinctions are never so absolute as they are thought to be. You will understand this if you pay attention to these two considerations: there is no such thing as pure thought disengaged from every traditional element: there is no such thing as tradition received in a manner purely passive, and disengaged from all exercise of the reflective faculties. You think you are employed about philosophy when you shut yourself up in your own individual thoughts. A mistake! The most powerful genius of modern times failed in this enterprise. Descartes conceived the project of forgetting all that he had known, and of producing a system of doctrine which should come forth from his brain as Minerva sprang all armed from the brain of Jupiter. Now-a-days a mere schoolboy, if he has been well taught, ought to be able to prove that Descartes was mistaken, because the current of tradition entered his mind together with the words of the language. It is not so easy as we may suppose to break the ties by which God has bound us all together in mutual dependence. Man speaks, he only thinks by means of speech, and speech is a river which takes its rise in the very beginnings of history, and brings down to the existing generation the tribute of all the waters of the past. No one can isolate himself from the current, and place himself outside the intellectual society of his fellows. We have more light than we had on this subject, and the attempt of Descartes, which was of old the happy audacity of genius, could in our days be nothing but the foolish presumption of ignorance. As for the purely passive reception of tradition, this may be conceived when only unimportant legends are in question, or doctrines which occupy the mind only as matters of curiosity; but when life is at stake, and the interests of our whole existence, the mind labors upon the ideas which it receives. Religion is only living in any soul when all the faculties have come into exercise; and faith, by its own proper nature, seeks to understand. The distinction between traditional data therefore and pure philosophy is far from being so real or so extensive as it is commonly thought to be. But for lack of time, I might undertake to prove to you more at length that the labor of individual thought upon the common tradition is the absolute and permanent law of development for the human mind. We have to steer between two extreme and contrary pretensions. What shall we say to those theologians who deny all power to man's reason, and consider the understanding as a receiver which does nothing but receive the liquid which is poured into it? to those theologians who, not content with despising Aristotle and Plato, think themselves obliged to vilify Socrates and calumniate Regulus? We will tell them that they depart from the grand Christian tradition, of which they believe themselves _par excellence_ the representatives. We will add that they outrage their Master by seeming to believe that in order to exalt Him it is necessary to calumniate humanity. Again, what shall we say to those philosophers, who do not wish for truth except when they have succeeded in educing it by themselves? to those philosophers who draw a little circle about their own personal thought, and say: If truth discovers itself outside this circle we have no wish to see it; and who boast that they only are free, because they have abandoned the common beliefs? We will tell them that they are deceiving themselves by taking for their own personal thought the _débris_ of the tradition of the human race. We will add that their pretended independence is a veritable slavery. A strange sort of liberty that, which should forbid those who affect it to accept a faith which appeared to them to be true, because they were not the inventors of it. Listen to this wise reflection of a contemporary writer: "Philosophy allows us to range ourselves on the side of Platonism: why should it not also allow us to range ourselves on the side of the Christian faith, if there it is that we find wisdom and immutable truth? The choice ought to seem as free and as worthy of respect on the one side as on the other; and philosophy which claims liberty for itself, is least of all warranted in refusing it to others."[18] To be free, is to look for truth wherever it may be found, and it is to obey truth wherever we meet with it. When the question therefore relates to God, or to the soul and its eternal destinies,--to the man who asks me, Are you occupied with religion or philosophy? I have only one answer to give: I am a man, and I am seeking truth. A final consideration will perhaps put these thoughts in a more striking light. If you think the most important of the discussions of our day to be that between natural and revealed religion, between deism and the Gospel, you have not well discerned the signs of the times. The fundamental discussion is now between men who believe in God, in the soul, and in truth, and men, who, denying truth, deny at the same time the soul and God. When these high problems are in question, periodicals and other publications, which have the widest circulation, and which gain admission into every household, bring us too often the works of writers without convictions, eager to spread amongst others the doubt which has devoured their own beliefs. They have received entire, and without losing an obole of it, the heritage of the Greek Sophists. They involve in fact in the same proscription Socrates and Jesus Christ, Paul of Tarsus and Plato of Athens: they have no more respect for the opinions of Descartes and Leibnitz than for those of Pascal and Bossuet. The great question of the day is to know whether our desire of truth is a chimæra; whether our effort to reach the divine world is a spring into the empty void. When the question relates to God, inasmuch as He is the basis of reason no less than the object of faith, all the barriers which exist elsewhere disappear: to defend faith is to defend reason; to defend reason is to defend faith. The unbridled audacity of those who deny fundamental truths is bringing ancient adversaries, for a moment at least, to fight beneath the same flag. What they would rob us of, is not merely this or that article of a definite creed, but all faith whatever in Divine Providence, every hope which goes beyond the tomb, every look directed towards a world superior to our present destinies. But take courage. This flame lighted on the earth, and which is evermore directed towards heaven, has passed safely through rougher storms than those which now threaten it; it has shone brightly in thicker darkness than that in which men are laboring so hard to enshroud it. It is not going to be extinguished, be very sure, before the affected indifference of a few wits of our day, and the haughty disdain of a few contemporary journalists. In a word, Gentlemen,--to take the idea of God as it has been handed down to us, and to study its relation to the reason, the heart, and the conscience of man,--this is my proposed method of proceeding. To show you that this idea is truth, because it satisfies the conscience, the heart, and the reason--this is the object I have in view. Of this object I am sure you feel the importance: nevertheless, and that we may be more alive to it still, I propose to you to sound with me the abysses of sorrow and darkness which are involved in those terrible words--"without God in the world." FOOTNOTES: [2] Aux _grimpeurs des Alpes_. [3] Psalm cxxxix. 7-10. [4] J.J. Rousseau. [5] _Les Origines Indo-Européennes_, by Adolphe Pictet, ii. 651. [6] Cleanthes, _Hymn to Jupiter_. [7] Sophocles, _OEdipus R._ [8] _Handbuch der gesammten ägyptischen Alterthumskunde_, von Dr. Max Uhlemann. Leipzig, 1857. [9] _Institutions divines_, ii. 1. [10] Id. [11] _Deutsche Mythol._ Third edition, page lxiv. [12] _Annales de philosophie chrétienne_, t. 59, p. 228._r_. [13] _Les Origines Indo-Européennes_, ii. 720. [14] J'ai mon Dieu que je sers, vous servirez le vôtre. [15] Il faut craindre le mien; Lui seul est Dieu, Madame, et le vôtre n'est rien. [16] Lève, Jérusalem, lève ta tête altière! Les peuples à l'envi marchent à ta lumière. [17] _Etudes Orientales_, par Adolphe Franck, p. 427. [18] Barthélemy St. Hilaire, in the _Séances et travaux de l'Académie des sciences morales et politiques_, LXX., p. 134. LECTURE II. _LIFE WITHOUT GOD._ (At Geneva, 20th Nov. 1863.--At Lausanne, 13th Jan. 1864.) GENTLEMEN, I propose to examine to-day what are the consequences for human life of the total suppression of the idea of God. This suppression is the result of atheism properly so called: it is also the result of scepticism raised into a system. The soul which doubts, but which seeks, regrets, hopes, is not wholly separated from God. It gives Him a large share in its life, inasmuch as the desire which it feels to meet with Him, and the sadness which it experiences at not contemplating Him in a full light, become the principal facts of its existence. But doubt adopted as a doctrine realizes in its own way, equally with atheism properly so called, life without God, the mournful subject of our present study. Having God, the spiritual life has a firm base and an invincible hope. The vapors of earth may indeed for a moment obscure the sky. One while fogs hang about the ground; another while clouds send forth the thunder-bolt; but, above the regions of darkness and of tempest, the eye of faith contemplates the eternal azure in its unchanging calm. Life has its sorrows for all; but it is not only endurable, it is blessed, when in view of the instability of all things, in view of evil, of injustice, and of suffering, there can breathe from the depths of the soul to the eternal, the Holy One, the Comforter, those words of patience in life and of joy in death: _My God!_ Take God away, and life is decapitated. Even this comparison is not sufficient; life, rather, becomes like to a man who should have lost at once both his head and his heart. The immense subject which opens before us falls into an easy and natural division: we will fix our attention successively upon the individual and upon society. PART I. _THE INDIVIDUAL._ Man thinks, he feels, and he wills: these are the three great functions of the spiritual life. Let us inquire what, without God, would become, first, of thought, which is the instrument of all knowledge; next; of the conscience, which is the law of the will; then of the heart, which is the organ of the feelings. We will begin with thought. Let us go back to the origin of modern philosophy. The labors of Descartes will make us acquainted, under the form clearest for us, with a current of lofty thoughts which does honor to ancient civilization, and which has come down to us through the writings of Plato and St. Augustine. We have seen that Descartes deceived himself, when he thought to separate himself altogether from tradition, and forgot the while how intimately men's minds are bound together in a common possession of truth. He was mistaken, because he confounded the idea, natural to the human mind, of an infinite reason, with the full idea of the Creator; so attributing to the efforts of his own philosophy that gift of truth which he had received from the Christian tradition. But, having so far recognized his error, listen now to this great man, and judge if he were again mistaken in those thoughts of his which I am about to reproduce to you. Descartes strives hard to doubt of all things, persuaded that truth will resist his efforts, and come forth triumphant from the trial. He doubts of what he has heard in the schools: his masters may have led him into error. He doubts of the evidence of his senses: his senses deceive him in the visions of the night; what if he were always dreaming, and if his waking hours were but another sleep with other dreams! He will doubt even of the certainty of reason: what if the reason were a warped and broken instrument? Reason is only worth what its cause may be worth. If man is the child of chance, his thoughts may be vain. If man is the creature of a wicked and cunning being, the light of reason may be only an _ignis fatuus_ kindled by a malicious and mocking spirit. Here is a soul plunged in the lowest abysses of doubt; but it is a manly soul which seeks in doubt a trial for truth, and not a comfortable pillow on which slothfully to repose. How does Descartes upraise himself? By a thought known to every one, and which was already found in St. Augustine: "_Cogito, ergo sum_. I think, therefore I am." Deceive me who will; if I am deceived, I exist. Here is a certainty protected from all assault: I am. But what a poor certainty is this! What does it avail me to have rescued my existence from the abysses of universal doubt, if above the deep waters which have swallowed up all belief floats only this naked and mortifying truth: I am; but I exist only perhaps to be the sport of errors without end. The first step therefore taken by the philosopher would be a fruitless one if it were not followed by a second. An eye is open, and says: I see; but it must have a warrant that the light by which it sees is not a fantastic brightness. No, replies Descartes; reason sees a true light; and this is how he proves it: I am, I know myself; that is certain. I know myself as a limited and imperfect being; that again is certain. I conceive then infinity and perfection; that is not less certain; for I should not have the idea of a limit if I did not conceive of infinity, and the word _imperfect_ would have no meaning for me, if I could not imagine perfection, of which imperfection is but the negation. Starting from this point, the philosopher proves by a series of reasonings that the conception of perfection by our minds demonstrates the real existence of that perfection: God is. He adds, that the existence of God is more certain than the most certain of all the theorems of geometry. You will observe, Gentlemen, that the man who speaks in this way is one of the greatest geometricians that ever lived. He has found God, he has found the light. Reason does not deceive, when it is faithful to its own laws: the senses do not deceive, when they are exercised according to the rules of the understanding. Error is a malady; it is not the radical condition of our nature; it is not without limits and without remedy, for the final cause of our being is God, that is to say truth and goodness. From everlasting God was true, For ever good and just will be, says one of our old psalms. Faith in the veracity of God--such is the ground of the assurance of believers; such is also the foundation on which has been raised the greatest of modern philosophies. Without the knowledge of God and faith in his goodness, man remains plunged in irremediable doubt, possessing only this single, poor, and frightful certainty: I am; and I exist perhaps only to be eternally deceived. But, it has been said, and it needed no great cleverness to say it--What a strange way is this of reasoning! Here is a man who first proves that God is, by means of his reason; and then proves that his reason is good because God is. His reason demonstrates God to him, and God demonstrates his reason to him: it is an argument of which any schoolboy can at once see the fallacy; it is manifestly a vicious circle. This has been said again and again by persons who have neglected a sufficiently simple consideration. The error is apparently a gross one; is it not likely that the argument has been misunderstood? Ought we not to look very closely at it, before declaring that one of the most lucid minds that have ever appeared in the world left at the basis of his doctrine a fault of logic which any schoolboy can discover? Self-sufficient levity of spirit is not the best means of penetrating the thought of leading minds; and it very often happens to us to fail of understanding because we have failed in respect. Let us examine with serious attention, not the very words of Descartes, as an historian might do, but the course of thought of which Descartes is one of the most illustrious representatives. To recognize in the reason traces of God, and to show that in faith in God consists the only warrant of the reason, is not to argue in a vicious circle, because, in this way of proceeding, what we are employed in is not reasoning, but analysis; we are establishing a fact in order to ascertain what that fact implies and supposes. This fact is the natural faith which man has in his own reason, when his reason reveals to him the immediate light of evidence, or the mediate light of certainty. Now, when man confides in his reason, it is not in his individual reason that he confides, for he has no doubt that what is evident for him is so also for others. If, tossed by a tempest, he were thrown upon an island of savages, he would not think that those savages, when they came to reflect, would be able to discover that the axioms of our geometry are false, or to make elements of logic which would contradict our own. We believe in a general reason, everywhere and always the same, and in which the reason of each individual participates. We believe therefore that there is a principle of truth which exists in itself, a reason which is eternal and everywhere present; in other words, we believe in God considered as the source of the universal intelligence. To believe in one's reason, is to believe in God, in this sense: the fact of the confidence which we place in our own faculty of thought, supposes a concealed faith in eternal truth. This is the analysis of which I was speaking. It is a circle if you please, but it is a circle of light, outside of which there is, as we shall see by and by, nothing but darkness and hard contradictions. You deny the existence of God. On what ground do you rest this denial? On the ground of your reason. You believe then that your reason is good, you believe it very good, since you do not hesitate to trust it, while you undertake to prove false the fundamental instincts of human nature. But you would not venture to say that this reason which you believe in with a faith so firm is your own separate reason merely, your personal and exclusive property. You believe in the universal reason; you believe in God, considered at least as the source of the understanding. The man therefore who denies God, affirms Him in a certain sense at the same time that he denies Him. He denies Him in his words, in the external form of his thought; he affirms Him in reality, as the Supreme Intelligence, by the very trust which he places in his own thought. Our understanding is only the reflected ray of the Divine verity. Therefore it is that Descartes, as soon as he has laid the first foundations of his system, interrupts the chain of his reasonings to trace these lines: "Here I think it highly meet to pause for a while in contemplation of this all-perfect God, to ponder deliberately his marvellous attributes, to consider, admire, and adore the incomparable beauty of that immense light, at least so far as the strength of my mind, which remains in a manner dazzled by it, shall allow me to do so."[19] Thus it is that while descending into the depths of the understanding, the philosopher who is supposed to be absorbed in pure abstractions, discovers all at once a sublime brightness, and exclaims with the ancient patriarch: "The LORD is in this place, and I knew it not!"[20] God is everywhere; He is in the heights of heaven, He is in the depths of thought. Remember those celebrated words of Lord Chancellor Bacon: "A little knowledge inclineth the mind to atheism, but a further acquaintance therewith bringeth it back to religion." God is not demonstrated, in the ordinary sense which we attach to the word demonstrate;[21] He is pointed out[22] as the source of all light. The attempt to demonstrate God as anything else is demonstrated, by descending, that is, from higher principles until the object in view is arrived at--this attempt implies a contradiction. God is in fact the first principle, the foundation of all principles, the principle beyond which there is nothing. We may describe the process by which the human mind rises to this supreme idea; but to wish to demonstrate God by mounting higher than Himself in order to look for a point of departure--this is literally to wish to light up the sun. If the sun of intelligences is extinguished, reason sets out on its way vaguely enlightened still with the remains of the light which it has reflected; but it is not long ere it is stumbling in darkness. Then it is that--be not deceived about it!--the doubts which Descartes called up by an act of his own will do in good earnest invade the soul. We possess a natural certainty, which does not suppose a clear view of God; we reason without thinking distinctly of the principles on which we reason, just as, when we are in a hurry, we take the shortest cut without thinking of the axiom of geometry which prescribes the straight line. But if we pass from the natural order of our thoughts into the domain of science, if we ask--what is it which guarantees to me the value of my reason? then the question is put, and many perish in the passage which separates natural faith from the domain of science,--that dangerous passage where doubt spreads out its perfidious fogs and its deceitful marshes. The moment the question is started of the worth of reason, and all the schools of scepticism do start it, our answer must be--_God_; and we must find light in this answer, or see thought invaded in its totality by an irremediable doubt. Then men come to ask themselves if all be not a lie; and they speak of the universal vanity, without making the reserve of Ecclesiastes.[23] There are more souls ill of this malady than are supposed to be so. Many begin by setting up proudly against God what they call the rights of reason, and by and by we see this reason, which has revolted against its Principle, vacillate, doubt of itself, and at last, losing itself in a bitter irony, wrap itself, with all beside, in the shroud of a universal scorn. Without God reason is extinguished. What, in like case, will happen to the conscience? The conscience is a reality. I will say willingly in the style of the prophets: Let my tongue cleave to the roof of my mouth, ere I deny conscience, and disparage the sacred name of duty! Yes, conscience is a reality; but God is in it: He it is who gives to it its necessary basis and its indispensable support. The conscience is the august voice of the Master of the universe. God has given us the light of the understanding that we may see and comprehend some portions of the works which He has created without us: a work there is for which He would have us to be fellow-workers with Him. The heaven of stars is a spectacle for the eyes of the body, a grander spectacle still for the contemplation of the mind which has understood their wondrous mechanism. We admire them; but if the stars failed to attract our admiration, no one of them on that account would cease to trace its orbit. There is another heaven, a heaven of loving stars and free, the sight of which is one day to fill us with rapture, and the realization of which is to be the work of our love and of our will. Before we contemplate it we must make it; this is our high and awful privilege. The plan of the spiritual heavens is deposited in the soul, and the utterances of the conscience reveal it to the will. It is a law of justice and of love. This law is evermore violated, because it is proposed to liberty, and liberty rebels: it subsists evermore, because it is the work of the Almighty. Humanity, in its strange destiny, has never ceased to outrage the rule which it acknowledges, and to pronounce upon its own acts a ceaseless condemnation. The laws which are investigated by the physical sciences are the plan of the Creator realized in nature: the law proposed to liberty is the plan of the Creator to be realized by the community of minds. Such is the explanation of the conscience: God is its solid foundation. Duty and God, morality and religion, are inseparable principles; all the efforts of a false philosophy have never succeeded, and never will succeed, in disjoining them. Men will never be prevented from believing that God is holy, and that His will is binding upon them: they will never be prevented from believing that holiness is divine, and that the will of God reveals itself in the admonitions of the conscience. Therefore the progress of religion and the progress of morality are closely united; the morality of a people depends above all on the idea which it forms to itself of God. The conscience, in fact, at the same time that it is real and permanent in its bases, is variable in the degrees of its light. It is enlightened or obscured, according as the man's religious conceptions are pure or corrupted; and, on the other hand, when the religious worship is degraded beyond a certain limit by error and the passions, the conscience protests, and by its protest purifies the religious conceptions. It has often been said, that in the onward march of humanity, morality is separated from faith, and comes at last to rest upon its own bases. It is a notion of the eighteenth century, which, although its root has been cut, is still throwing out shoots in our time. The attempt has been made to support this theory by the great name of Socrates. It is affirmed that the sage of Athens, breaking the bond which connects the earth with heaven, separated duty from its primitive source. Listen: Placed in the alternative of either renouncing his mission or dying, it is thus that Socrates addresses his judges: "Athenians, I honor you and I love you, but I will obey the Deity rather than you. My whole occupation is to persuade you, young and old, that before the care of the body and of riches, before every other care, is that of the soul and of its improvement. Know that this it is which the Deity prescribes to me, and I am persuaded that there can be nothing more advantageous to the republic than my zeal to fulfil the behest of the Deity."[24] Does the man who speaks in this way appear to you to have wished to break the link which connects morality with religion? He separates himself from the established religion; he pursues with his biting raillery shameful objects of worship; his conscience protests. But, while it protests, it attaches itself immediately to a higher and holier idea of that God, of whose perfections the sage of Athens had succeeded in obtaining a glimpse. God then is the explanation of the conscience: He is moreover its support. It has need in sooth to be supported,--that voice which speaks within us; because it is unceasingly contradicted and denied. The spectacle which the world presents is not an edifying one; the facts which are taking place on the earth are not all of a nature to maintain the steadfastness of the moral feeling. Let us imagine an example, a striking example, such as it would be easy to find realized on a small scale in more commonplace events. A peaceable population, menaced in its most sacred rights, has taken up arms in the simplest and most legitimate self-defence. I do not allow my thoughts to rest upon the soldiers who are advancing to oppress it--mere instruments as they are in the hands of their leaders--but upon the leaders themselves. One of these, without the least necessity, with a calculating coolness, to which he sacrifices all the feelings of a man, or under the sway of one of those ferocious instincts which at times gain the mastery over the soul, gives up a town, a village, to all the horrors of slaughter, pillage, and fire. The blood of the victims will scarcely, perhaps, have grown cold, the last gleams of the fire will not yet be extinct, when this man shall be receiving the praises of his superiors. Men will laud the bravery and daring of his exploit; his sovereign will place upon his breast a brilliant cross, the august sign of the world's redemption; he will return to his country amidst the acclamations of the multitude, and drink in with delight the shouts of triumph which greet him as he moves on his way. For such things as these, is there to be no penalty but troublesome recollections which may sometimes be banished, and a few timid protests soon hushed by the loud voice of success? Verily there are perpetrated beneath the sun acts which cry aloud for vengeance. Have you never felt it--that mighty cry--rising from your own bosom, at the sight of some odious crime, or on reading such and such a page of history? And it must be so; it must be that the cry for vengeance will rise, until the soul has learnt to transform imprecation into prayer, and the desire for justice into supplication for the guilty. But if, in the presence of crime, we were forced to believe that there will never be either vengeance or pardon, the mainspring of the moral life would be broken, and humanity would at length exclaim, like Brutus in the plains of Philippi:--"Virtue! thou art but a name!" The conscience is a reality; but its voice is troublesome, and the captious arguments which go to deny its value find support in the evil tendencies of our nature. If it has no faith in eternal justice it runs the risk of being blunted by contact with the world. So doubt takes place, doubt still deeper and more agonizing than that which bears upon the processes of the understanding. The questions which arise are such as these:--"This voice of duty--whence comes it? and what would it have? May not conscience be a prejudice, the result of education and of habit? It has little power, it seems, for it is braved with impunity. Many say that it is a factitious power from which one comes at last to deliver one's self by resisting it. Am I not the dupe of an illusion? I am losing joys which others allow themselves. Barriers encompass me on every hand, for there are for me prohibited actions, unwholesome beauties, culpable feelings. Others are free, and make a larger use of life in all directions. What if I too made trial of liberty!" Here lies the temptation. When the soul aspires to become larger than conscience and more tolerant than duty, it is not far from a fall. The honest woman will be tempted to repine at the liberty of the courtesan, and the man who is bound by his word will become capable of looking with envy on the liberty of the liar. Then come terrible experiences which teach at length that the unbinding of the passions is the hardest of slaveries, and that, in the struggle between inclination and duty, it is liberty which oppresses and law which sets free. Happy then is he who, feeling himself to be sinking in gloomy waters, cries to that God who is able to rescue him from the abyss, and strengthens his shaken conscience by replacing it on its solid foundation. "God speaks and reigns. All rebellion is transient in its nature; justice will at length be done. Justice may be slow in the eyes of the creature of a day, seeing that He who shall dispense it has eternity at his disposal." But if God be not a refuge for us from men and from the world, if, when we see all that is passing around us, we cannot cast a look beyond and above the earth, men may lose their faith in duty. And this faith is lost in fact. If there are not dead consciences, there are consciences at any rate singularly sunk in sleep. There are men for whom goodness, truth, justice, honor, seem to be a coinage of which they make use because it is current, but without for themselves attaching to it any value. These pieces of money have no longer in their eyes any visible impression, because the conception of the almighty and just God is the impression which determines duty and guarantees its value. When the necessary alliance of moral order with religious thought is denied, the reality of conscience is opposed to what are called theological hypotheses always open to discussion. It is seen well enough that men may doubt of God, but it is supposed to be impossible to doubt of conscience. This is an illusion of generous minds. Those who would keep this illusion must not open the pages of the history of philosophy where the negation of duty does not occupy less space than the negation of God; they must not cast their eyes too much about them; they must also take care not to open the most widely circulated books, and the most fashionable periodicals: otherwise, as we shall see, they would not be long in finding out that this morality which they would fain have superior to all attacks, is perhaps what of all things is most attacked now-a-days, and that that conscience which it is impossible to deny is in fact the object of denials the most audacious on the part of a few of the present favorites of fame. The voice of duty is heard no doubt even when God does not come distinctly into mind; but when the questions are clearly put, if God is denied, conscience grows dim, and comes at last to be extinguished. This obscuration does not take place all at once: the potter's wheel goes on turning for a while, says an old Hindoo poem, after that the foot of the artisan is withdrawn from it. But the darkening takes place gradually with time: such at least is the general rule. There are exceptional men who seem to escape this law, and to bear in their bosom a God veiled from their own consciousness. Such men may be found, and even in considerable numbers, in a time like ours, when doubt is, in many cases, a prejudice which current opinion deposits on the surface of minds without penetrating them deeply. There are men all whose convictions have fallen into ruins, while their conscience continues standing like an isolated column, sole remaining witness of a demolished building. The meeting with these heroes of virtue inspires a mingled feeling of astonishment and respect. They are verily miracles of that divine goodness of which they are unable to pronounce the name. If there is a man on earth who ought to fall on both knees and shed burning tears of gratitude, it is the man who believes himself an atheist, and who has received from Providence so keen a taste for what is noble and pure, so strong an aversion for evil, that his sense of duty remains firm even when it has lost all its supports. But the exception does not make the rule; and that which is realized in the case of a few is not realized long, and for all. You know those crusts of snow which are formed over the _crevasses_ of our glaciers. These slight bridges are able to bear one person who remains suspended over the abyss, but let several attempt to pass together,--the frail support gives way, and the rash adventurers fall together into the gulf. Such is the destiny of those schools of philosophy in which the notion of God disappears, and of those civilizations in which the sense of God is extinguished; they fall into dark regions where the light of goodness shines no longer. After the mind and conscience, it remains for us to speak of the heart. Man, an intelligent and free being, has in his reason an instrument of knowledge, and in his conscience a rule for his will. But man is not sufficient for himself, and cannot live upon his own resources. If you inquire what the word heart expresses, in its most general acceptation, you will find that it always expresses a tendency of the soul to look, out of itself, in things or persons, for the support and nourishment of its individual life. Does the question concern the relations of man with his fellows? The heart is the organ of communication of one soul with another, for receiving, or for giving, or for giving and receiving at the same time, in the enjoyment of the blessing of a mutual affection. The heart is in each of us what those marks are upon the scattered stones of a building in course of construction which indicate that they are to be united one to another. The philosopher suffices for himself, the stoics used to say; the heart is the negation of this haughty maxim. From the heart proceeds love, that son of abundance and of poverty, to speak with Plato, that needy one ever on the search for his lost heritage. Love has wings, said again the wisdom of the Greeks, wings which essay to carry him ever higher. Let us extricate the thought which is involved in these graceful figures: Our desires have no limits, and indefinite desires can be satisfied only by meeting with an infinite Being who can be an inexhaustible source of happiness, an eternal object of love. "Our heart is made for love," said Saint Augustine, the great Christian disciple of Plato: "therefore it is unquiet till it finds repose in God." From this unrest proceed all our miseries. Men do not always succeed in contenting themselves with a petty prosaic happiness, a dull and paltry well-being, and in stifling the while the grand instincts of our nature. If then the heart lives, and fails of its due object; if it does not meet with the supreme term of its repose, its indefinite aspirations attach themselves to objects which cannot satisfy them, and thence arise stupendous aberrations. With some, it is the pursuit of sensual gratifications; they rush with a kind of fury into the passions of their lower nature. With others it is the ardent pursuit of riches, power, fame,--feelings which are always crying more: More! and never: Enough. And the after-taste from the fruitless search after happiness in the paths of ambition and vanity is not less bitter perhaps than the after-taste from sensual enjoyments. Listen to the confession of a man whose works, full as they are of beauties, are disfigured by so many impure allusions, that the author appears to have indulged, more than most others, in the giddy follies and culpable pleasures of life: If, tired of mocking dreams, my restless heart Returns to take its fill of waking joy, Full soon I loathe the pleasures which impart No true delight, but kill me, while they cloy.[25] Here are the accents of a true confession. These are moreover truths of daily experience. I have seen--and which of you could not render similar testimony?--I have seen the sick man, deprived of all the ordinary avocations and amusements of life, and with pain for his constant companion, I have seen him find joy in the thought of his God, and feeding, without satiety, on this bread of contentment. I have seen the face of the blind lighted up by a living faith, and radiant with a light of peace, for him sweeter and brighter than the rays of the sun. But where God is wanting, and all connection is broken with the source of joy, there you shall see the richest of the rich, the most prosperous among the ambitious, the man of fame whose renown is most widely extended,--you shall see these men carrying the heavy burden of discontent. Their brow, unillumined by the celestial ray, is furrowed by the lines of sadness. If you meet them in a moment of candor, these rich, ambitious, and famous men will tell you with a sigh: "All this does not satisfy; we are but pursuing chimeras." Still they continue to run after these chimeras. They cry Vanity! Vanity! and they do not cease to pursue vanity. They flee from themselves: if they retired within themselves, they would find there ennui, inexorable ennui, which is but the sense of that place which God should fill left void in the depth of the soul. For the deceived heart, life becomes a bitter comedy. Those who do not succeed in blinding themselves by the dust of thoughtless folly, end oftentimes by wrapping themselves in disdain as with a cloak; they seek a sad and solitary satisfaction in the greatness of their contempt for life. But neither does this satisfy: disdain is not a beverage, and contempt is not food. Such are the destinies of the heart, to which God is wanting. But I hope, Gentlemen, that you have here some remonstrances to offer. I have just spoken of the pleasures of sense, of pride, of vanity, and I have made no allusion to those affections in which the heart manifests its highest qualities. Shall we forget the joys of pure love? the domestic hearth? friendship? country? Do not fear that, having given myself up to a fit of misanthropy, I am come hither to blaspheme the true happinesses of life. But do the affections of earth offer us sufficient guarantees? We have need of the infinite to answer to the immensity of our desires; in the presence of those we love, have we no need of the Eternal that we may lean our hearts on Him? Will not all human love become a source of torment, if we have no faith in the love of Him who will stamp holy affections with the seal of His own eternity? A single question will suffice to enlighten us on this head. Do you know the feeling of anxiety? We all know it, though in different degrees. Epidemical disease may appear. The cholera has started on its course; it has left the interior of Asia, and is approaching. The report is current that neighboring cities have begun to feel its ravages. Those we love--in a month, in a week, where will they be? War is declared. We hear of preparations for death; the sovereigns of Europe apply themselves to calculations which seem to portend torrents of blood. If war breaks out, that brother, that son, who will have to take up arms, that daughter who will one day perhaps find herself at the mercy of an unbridled soldiery----. But let us not look for examples so far away. Have you no dear one in a distant land of whom you are expecting tidings? And those who are near you! To-morrow, to-day, now perhaps, while you are listening to me, a fatal malady is discovering its first symptoms----. Have you received the hard lessons of death? If you see children playing, full of ruddy and joyous health, does it happen to none of you to think of another child, once the joy of your fireside, now lying beneath the sod? Does it never happen to you, by a sinister presentiment, to see features you love to gaze on convulsed with agony or pale in death? And yet you must either see the death of your beloved ones, or they must lay you in the earth; for every life ends with the tomb, and we do but walk over graves. When the soul has been thus wounded by anxiety, for this poisoned wound there is one remedy, but only one: "God reigns!" Nothing happens without the permission of His goodness. And of all those who are dear to us, we can say: "Father, to Thy hands I commit them." If we are without this trust, we shall only escape torment by levity. Without God our mind is sick; our conscience and our heart are sick also, and in a way more grievous still. FOOTNOTES: [19] _Méditation troisième_, at the end. [20] Gen. xxviii. 16. [21] _Démontrer_. [22] "_On le montre_." [23] "Vanity of vanities; all is vanity.... Let us hear the conclusion of the whole matter: Fear God, and keep his commandments: for this is the whole duty of man." (Eccles. i. and xii.) [24] Apology. [25] Si mon coeur, fatigué du rêve qui l'obsède, A la réalité revient pour s'assouvir, Au fond des vains plaisirs que j'appelle à mon aide, Je trouve un tel dégoût que je me sens mourir. PART II. _SOCIETY._ We have just studied what life without God would be for the individual. Let us now direct our attention to those collections of human beings which form societies. We shall not speak here of the relations of civil with ecclesiastical authorities,--a complex question, the solution of which must vary with times, places, and circumstances. Let us only remark that the distinction between the temporal and spiritual order of things is one of the foundations of modern civilization. This distinction is based upon those great words which, eighteen hundred years ago, separated the domain of God from the domain of Cæsar. Religion considered as a function of civil life; dogma supported by the word of a monarch or the vote of a body politic; the formula of that dogma imposed forcibly by a government on the lips of the governed--these are _débris_ of paganism which have been struggling for centuries against the restraints of Christian thought.[26] The religious convictions of individuals do not belong to the State; religious sentiments are not amenable to human tribunals; and it would be hard to say whether it is the spiritual or the temporal order of things which suffers most from the confusion of these distinct domains. Religion should have its own proper life, and its special representatives; civil life ought to be set free from all tyranny exercised in the name of dogma; but religion is not the less on that account, by the influence which it exerts over the consciences of men, the necessary bond and strength of human society. "You would sooner build a city in the air," said Plutarch, "than cause a State to subsist without religion." Some have contested in modern times this opinion of ancient wisdom. The philosophy of the last century, as we have said already, wished to separate duty from the idea of God. It pretended to give as the only foundation for society a civil morality, the rules and sanction of which were to be found upon earth. The men of blood who for a short time governed France, gave once as the order of the day--_Terror and all the virtues_: this was a terrible application of this theory. Virtue rested on a decree of political power, and, for want of the judgment of God, the guillotine was the sanction of its precepts. Healthier views begin now to prevail in the schools of philosophy. One of the members of the _Institut de France_, M. Franck, has lately published a volume on the history of ancient civilization,[27] with the express intention of showing that the conception which a people has of God is the true root of its social organization. According to the worth of the religious idea is that of the civil constitution. Before M. Franck, twenty years ago, a man of the very highest distinction as a public lecturer, indicated this movement of modern thought. M. Edgard Quinet, in his Lyons course, taught that the religious idea is the very substance of civilization, and the generating principle of political constitutions. He announced "a history of civilization by the monuments of human thought," and added: "Religion above all is the pillar of fire which goes before the nations in their march across the ages; it shall serve us as a guide."[28] Benjamin Constant exhibits in the variation of his opinions the transition from the stand-point of the last century to that of the present. He had at first conceived of his work upon religion as a monument raised to atheism, he ends by seeking in religious sentiments the condition necessary to the existence of civilized societies.[29] Here is a real progress; and this progress brings us back to the thought above quoted from Plutarch. In fact, take away the idea of God, and the first consequence will be that you will sacrifice all the conquests of modern civilization; the next, that you will soon have rendered impossible the existence of any society whatever. I am going to ask your close attention to these two points successively. History does not offer to our view an uninterrupted progress, as certain optimists suppose; still less does it present the spectacle of an ever-increasing deterioration, as misanthropes affirm; and lastly, it is not true, as we hear it said sometimes, that all epochs are alike, as good one as another. There are times better than those which follow them; and there are epochs less degraded than those which precede them. Human societies fall and rise again; their march exhibits windings and retrograde steps, because that march is under the influence of created liberty; but when their destinies are regarded at one view, it is clearly seen that they are advancing to a determined end, because while man is in restless agitation, God is leading him on. The conquests of modern civilization are great and sacred realities. What are these conquests? Let us not stay at the surface of things, but go to the foundation. Societies fallen into a condition of barbarism have for their motto the famous saying of a Gallic chief: Woe to the vanquished! In institutions, as in manners, the triumph of force characterizes barbarous times. The right of the strongest is the twofold negation of justice and of love; and what characterizes civilization, issuing from the barbarous condition, the fragments of which it so long trails after it, is the establishment of that justice which founds States, and, upon the basis of justice, the development of the benevolence which renders communities happy. These are the two essential conditions of social progress. These conditions are necessary even to the progress of industry and of material welfare. Modern civilization,--that, namely, which we so designate, while we relegate, so to speak, into the past the contemporaneous societies of the vast East,--modern civilization possesses a power unknown to antiquity. Justice has a foundation in the conscience, benevolence has natural roots in the heart; but a moment has been when justice and love appeared in the world with new brightness, like rays disengaged from clouds. Modern civilization was then deposited on the earth in a powerful germ, of which nothing was any more to arrest the growth. That moment was when the idea of God appeared in its fulness: modern civilization was born of the Gospel. The knowledge of God strengthens justice, and the thought of the common Father develops benevolence. These theses are well known; let us confine ourselves to a few rapid illustrations. There exists an institution in which has been embodied the negation of social justice--Slavery. Slavery is at length disappearing before our eyes from the bosom of Christendom; and its final retreat is doing honor to Russia, and bathing America in blood. This is perhaps the greatest of the events which the annals of history will inscribe on the page of the nineteenth century. Now slavery was, in the past, an almost universal institution. The finest intellects of Greece devoted a portion of their labors to its justification. Rome, at the most brilliant period of its civilization, caused slaves to kill one another, in savage spectacles intended to delight the populace, or during sumptuous banquets for the amusement of wealthy debauchees![30] How has slavery disappeared little by little! How has man been rediscovered beneath that living _thing_ of which was made, one while an instrument of labor, and another while the sport of execrable passions? Inquire into this history. You will find the reason and the heart making their protests heard in antiquity, but without becoming efficacious. One day all is changed, and the foundations of slavery begin to shake. At that memorable epoch you will meet with a written document, the first in which is shown in its germ the great social fact which was about to have birth. It is not an emperor's decree, it is not the vote of a body politic, it is a letter a few lines long written by a prisoner to one of his friends. The substance of this letter was: "I send thee back thy slave; but in the name of God I beg of thee to receive him as thy brother; think of the common Master who is in heaven." This letter was addressed--"To Philemon;" the name of the writer was Paul. It is the first charter of slave emancipation. Ponder this fact, Gentlemen: contemplate the ancient institution of slavery shaken to its foundations, without being the object of any direct attack, by the breath of a new spirit. You will then understand how historians can tell us that the relations of states, belligerent rights, civil laws, political institutions, all these things of which the Gospel has never spoken, have been, and are being still, every day transformed by the slow action of the Gospel. God has appeared; justice is marching in His train. Justice is the foundation of society; but without the spirit of love, justice remains crippled, and never reaches its perfection. Justice maintains the rights of each; love seeks to realize the communication of advantages among all. Justice overthrows the artificial barriers raised between men by force and guile; love softens natural inequalities and causes them to turn to the general good. Need I tell you that the knowledge of God is a light of which the brightest ray is love to men? Benevolence, that feeling natural to our hearts, is strengthened, extended, transfigured, by becoming charity;--charity, that union of the soul with the Heavenly Father, which descends again to earth in loving communion between all His children. The soul separated from God may be conscious of strong affections: but study well the character of a virtue which is nourished from purely human sources; you will see that it may for the most part be expressed in these terms--"To love one's friends heartily, and to hate one's enemies with a generous hatred; to esteem the honest and to despise the vicious." But that virtue which loves the vicious while it hates the vice, that virtue which will avenge itself only by overcoming evil with good, that virtue which, while it draws closer the bonds of private affections, makes a friend of every man, that virtue which we call divine, by a natural impulse of our heart--what is the source from which it flows? The following fact will sufficiently answer the question. On the façade of one the hospitals of the Christian world, are read these Latin words, the brief energy of which our language cannot render: _Deo in pauperibus_, "This edifice is consecrated to God in the person of the poor." Here is the secret of charity: it discerns the Divine image deposited in every human soul. But do not mistake here: we cannot love, with a love natural and direct, the rags of squalid poverty, the brands of vice, the languors and sores of sickness; but let God manifest Himself, and our eyes are opened. The beauty of souls breaks forth to our view beneath the wasting of the haggard frame, and from under the filth of vice. We love those immortal creatures fallen and degraded; a sacred desire possesses us to restore them to their true destination. Has an artist discovered in a mass of rubbish, under vulgar appearances, a product of the marvellous chisel of the Greeks? He sets himself, with a zeal full of respect, to free the noble statue from the impurities which defile it. Every soul of man is the work of art Divine, and every charitable heart is an artist who desires to labor at its restoration. Henceforward we can understand that love of suffering and of poverty, that passion for the galleys and the hospital, which have at times thrown Christians into extravagances which our age has no reason to dread. God in the poor man, God in the sick man, God in the vicious man and the criminal; this, I repeat, is the grand secret of charity. Charity passes from the heart of men and from individual practice into social customs and institutions. Charity it is which, by degrees, takes from law its needless rigors, and from justice its useless tortures; which substitutes the prison in which it is sought to reform the guilty for the galley, which completes the corruption of the criminal; it is charity that opens public asylums for all forms of suffering; and that will realize, up to the limits of what is possible, all the hopes of philanthropy. If God ceases to be present to the mind and conscience of men, justice and love lose their power. Without the powerful action of justice and of love, society would descend again, by the ways of corruption, towards the struggles of barbarism. Observe, study well, all that is going on around us. Does our civilization appear to you sufficiently solid to give you the idea that it can henceforth dispense with the foundations on which it has reposed hitherto? The sentiments of justice and of benevolence which form the double basis of the progress of society, suppose a more general sentiment which is their common support--the sentiment of humanity. The idea that man has a value in himself, that he is, in virtue of his quality as man, independently of the places which he inhabits and of the position which he occupies in the world, an object of justice and of love;--this idea includes in itself all the moral part of civilization. Social progress is only the recognition, ever more and more explicit, of the value of one soul, of the rights of one conscience. Now, the idea of humanity has the closest possible connection with the knowledge of God, considered as the Father of the human race. Ancient wisdom, superior to the worship of idols, had gained a glimpse of the fact that the philosopher is a citizen of the universe; and that famous line of Terence: "I am a man, and I reckon nothing human foreign to me," excited, it is said, the applause of the Roman spectators. But these were mere gleams, extinguished soon by the general current of thought. It was the pale dawn of the idea of humanity. Whence came the day? I will limit the question by defining it. The idea of humanity is the idea of the worth and consequently of the rights of each individual man. It is the idea of liberty; not of liberty interpreted by passion and selfishness as the inauguration of the license which violates right, but of liberty interpreted by reason and conscience as the limit which the action of each man encounters in the right of his neighbor. We are not speaking here of the equality of political rights, which is not always a guarantee of veritable liberty. We are speaking of a social condition such that man, in the exercise of his faculties, in the manifestation of his thoughts, in his efforts for the causes which he loves, so long as he does not violate the rights of others, does not meet with an arbitrary power to arrest him. Still farther to limit our subject, we shall speak of the most important manifestation of that liberty--liberty of conscience, of which religious liberty is the most ordinary and most complete manifestation. This is only one of the points of the subject, but it is a point which in reality supposes and includes all the rest. This liberty--whence does it come? It does not come from paganism. Paganism, with its national religions, could only produce fanaticism or doubt. Each people having its own particular religion, to exterminate the foreigner was to serve the cause of the gods of the country. A war-cry descended from the Olympus of each several nation--that Olympus which the gods quitted, in case of need, to take part in the quarrels of men. Did reason perceive the nothingness of these national divinities? Then scepticism appeared. The idea of the supreme God being unsettled with all, and wholly obscured for the crowd, when men ceased to believe in the gods of the nation, they lost all belief whatsoever. For this cause doubt prevailed so widely at the decline of the ancient world. Those pantheons in which all religions were received, welcomed, protected, are the ever-memorable temples of scepticism. Now you know what voice made itself heard, when the ancient civilization was enfeebled by the spirit of doubt: "Henceforth there is neither Greek nor barbarian, bond nor free. Ye are all brethren, and for all there is one God, and one truth:" here behold the root of scepticism severed. And the same voice added: "This only God is the lawful Owner of His creatures; and when you presume to do violence to the consciences which belong to Him, you know not by what spirit you are animated:" here behold the fountain of fanaticism dried up. God is acknowledged; He is the Master of souls: faith founds liberty. The Witness to universal truth appears before Rome as represented by a deputy of Cæsar. He is a fanatic, says the Roman; then he goes his way, and leaves Him to be put to death. But ere long, a dull hoarse murmur of the nations, extending through all the length and breadth of the mighty empire, gives token that He who was dead is alive again, and is speaking to the general conscience. Then Rome starts from her sleep; Rome; the politic tolerant Rome, sheds rivers of blood. Her tolerance allowed men to believe everything, but on condition that they believed seriously in nothing. Rome was directed by the sure instinct of despotism. She did not fear the gods of the Pantheon, because she could always place above them the statue of the Emperor: whereas what was now in question was, while leaving to Cæsar the things which were Cæsar's, to place a Sovereign above the Emperor, and to raise a legislation above the legislation of the empire. Therefore the Roman city determined to give a death-blow to Christianity,--to the idea of universal truth, because if that idea gained entrance into the understanding, the cause of the liberty of souls was gained. So it was that indifference became ferocious, and that doubt led back to fanaticism. I have told you whence liberty does not come; but whence comes it? Whence comes liberty? Ask any scholar of the Lyceums of France; he will answer you, without hesitation: Liberty comes from the French revolution!--No doubt, whispers an older comrade in his ear; but do not forget the philosophy of the eighteenth century which developed the principles which the revolution put in practice.--That is all very well, a Protestant will say; but let us consider the grand fact of the Reformation: it is from the sixteenth century that liberty has its date.--Well and good, adds an historian; but do you not know that the Germans were they who poured a generous and free blood into the impoverished blood of the men who had been fashioned by the slavery of the empire? I contest nothing, and I am not sufficiently well-informed to pronounce with confidence upon the action of all these historic causes. But this I venture to affirm,--that if any one thinks to fix definitely the hour when liberty was born in history, he is mistaken: for it has no other date than that of the human conscience, and I will say with M. Lamartine: Give me the freedom which that hour had birth, With the free soul, when first in conscious worth The just man braved the stronger![31] Liberty had birth the first time that, urged by his fellow men to acts which wounded his conscience, a man, relying upon God, felt himself stronger than the world. That Socrates had not studied, I fancy, in the school of the Encyclopedists, and was no German either, that I know of, who said to the judges of Athens, with death in prospect: "It is better to obey God than men." And when those words were repeated by the Apostles of the universal truth, the death of Socrates, that noble death which has justly gained for him the admiration of the universe, was reproduced in thousands and thousands of instances. Children, women, young girls, old men, perished in tortures to attest the rights of conscience; and the blood of martyrs, that seed of Christians, as a father of the Church called it,[32] was not less a seed of liberty. Liberty was not born in history; but if you wish to fix a date to its grandest outburst, you have it here; there is no other which can be compared with it. Some of you are thinking perhaps, without saying so, that I am maintaining a hard paradox. To look for the source of liberty of conscience in religion, is not this to forget that the Christian Church has often marked its passage in history by a long track of blood rendered visible by the funereal light of the stake? I forget nothing, Sirs, and I beg of you not to forget anything either. There are three remarks which I commend to your attention. It must not be forgotten that the Gospel first obtained extensive success when Roman society was in the lowest state of corruption, and that its representatives were but too much affected by the evils which it was their mission to combat. It must not be forgotten that there came afterwards hordes of barbarians who in a certain sense renovated the worn-out society, but who poured over the new leaven a coarse paste hard to penetrate. It must not be forgotten, lastly, that if a cause might legitimately be condemned for the faults of its defenders, there are none, no, not a single one, which could remain erect before the tribunal which so should give judgment. Every cause in this world is more or less compromised by its representatives; but there are bad principles, which produce evil by their own development, and there are good principles which man abuses, but which by their very nature always end by raising a protest against the abuse. It is in the light of this indisputable truth that we are about to enter upon a discussion of which you will appreciate the full importance. Sceptical writers affirm that toleration has its origin in the weakening of faith; and, drawing the consequence of their affirmation, they recommend the diffusion of the spirit of doubt as the best means of promoting liberty of conscience. We have here the old argument which would suppress the use to get rid of the abuse. Persecutions are made in the name of religion; let us get rid of faith, and we shall have peace. Prisons have been built and the stake has been set up in the name of God: let us get rid of God, and we shall have toleration. Observe well the bearing of this mode of argument. Let us get rid of fire, and we shall have no more conflagrations; let us get rid of water, and no more people will be drowned. No doubt,--but humanity will perish of drought and of cold. Let us examine this subject seriously: it is well worth our while. If toleration proceeds from the enfeebling of religious belief, we ought among various nations to meet with toleration in an inverse proportion to the degree of their faith. This is a question then of history. Let us study facts. Recollecting first of all that ancient Rome did not draw forth a germ of liberty from its scepticism, let us throw a glance over existing communities. Sweden is far behind England in regard to liberty of conscience. Is it that religious convictions are weaker in England than in Sweden? Has the religious liberty which Great Britain practises sprung from indifference? Is it not rather that that land produces an energetic race, and that it has been so often drenched with the blood of the followers of different forms of worship, that that blood cried at length to heaven, and that the conscience of the people heard it? There is more religious liberty in France than in Spain. Is it the case that the true cause of the intolerance of the Spanish people is a more lively and more general faith than that of the French? That is not so certain. Switzerland is one of the countries in which is enjoyed the greatest liberty of opinion. Is Switzerland a land of indifference? Was not the comparative firmness of its citizens' convictions remarked during the conflicts of the last century? Do not the United States bear in large characters upon their banner this inscription: LIBERTY OF CONSCIENCE? America is not distinguished as a country without religion; on the contrary, it is blamed for the excursiveness of its faith, for the multiplicity and sometimes for the extravagance of its sects. Was it a sceptic that taught the inhabitants of the New World to respect religious convictions? Assuredly not! William Penn was shut up in the Tower of London for the crime of free thought. Set free from prison, he crossed the ocean. While intolerance was reigning still on both shores of the Atlantic, he founded in Pennsylvania a place of refuge for all proscribed opinions; and the germ has been fruitful. In vain I pass from old Europe to young America; I look, I observe, and I do not see that liberty is developed in proportion to the scepticism and the incredulity of nations. I seem, on the contrary, to see that there is perhaps most liberty where there is most real faith. Some may dispute the validity of these conclusions by remarking that the condition of communities is a complex phenomenon depending upon divers causes. Let us simplify the question. Is it not, it will be said, the literary representatives of the spirit of doubt who have demanded and founded toleration? Is it not.... But it is not necessary for my supposed questioner to go on. If he is a Frenchman, he will name Voltaire. No doubt, freedom of opinion has been claimed by sceptics. They have served a good cause; let us know how to rejoice in the fact, and not to be unmindful of what there may have been in their work of noble impulses and generous inspirations. Let us remark however that every proscribed opinion puts forth a natural claim to the liberty of which it is deprived. But it is one thing to claim for one's-self a liberty one would gladly make use of to oppress others, and it is another thing to demand liberty seriously and for all. There was, as I am glad to believe, a certain natural generosity in the motives which led Voltaire to consecrate to noble causes a pen so often sold to evil. Still it is impossible not to suspect that if that apostle of toleration had had a principality under his own sway, the fact of thinking differently from the master would very soon have figured among the number of delinquencies. The patriarch of Ferney wrote in favor of toleration; some friends of religious indifference have pleaded the cause of liberty of conscience: the fact is certain. But other writers, animated by a living faith, have also demanded liberty for all: the fact is not less certain. Some years ago, at nearly the same epoch, the Père Lacordaire and our own Alexander Vinet consecrated to this noble cause, the former the attractive brilliancy of his eloquence, the latter all the fineness of his delicate analyses. The friends of Lacordaire are gathering up the vibrations of that striking utterance which proclaimed: "Liberty slays not God."[33] Let us gather up also the good words, which, uttered on the borders of our lake, have gained entrance far and near into many hearts. I should like to take such and such a Parisian journalist, bring him into our midst, and get him to acquaint himself thoroughly with the results of our experience; I should like to conduct him to the cemetery of Clarens, place him by the tomb of Vinet, and tell him what that man was.--If, as he returned to his home, my journalist did not leave behind him at the French frontier, as contraband merchandise, all that he would have seen and learnt in our country, he would perhaps understand that the surest road by which to arrive at respect for the consciences of others is not indifference, but firmness of faith, in humility of heart, and largeness of thought. All the writers who have devoted their pen to the defence of the rights of the human soul have not therefore been sceptics. Without continuing this discussion of proper names, let us settle what is here the true place of writers. Before there are men who demand liberty and digest the theory of it, there must be other men who take it, and who suffer for having taken it. If liberty is consolidated with speech and pen, it is founded with tears and blood; and the sceptical apostles of toleration conveniently usurp the place of the martyrs of conviction. "What we want," rightly observes a revolutionary writer, "is free men, rather than liberators of humanity."[34] In fact, liberty comes to us above all from those who have suffered for it. Its living springs are in the spirit of faith, and not, as they teach us, in the spirit of indifference. It is easy to understand, that where no one believes, the liberty to believe would not be claimed by any one. Let us now endeavor to penetrate below facts, in order to bring back the discussion to sure principles. Let us ask what, in regard to liberty of conscience, are the natural consequences of faith, and the natural consequences of scepticism. Faith does appear, at first sight, a source of intolerance. The man who believes, reckons himself in possession of the right in regard to truth, and to God; he has nothing to respect in error. Thus it is that belief naturally engenders persecution. This reasoning is specious, all the more as it is supported by numerous and terrible examples; but let us look at things more closely. Place yourselves face to face with any one of your convictions, no matter which; I hope there is no one of you so unfortunate as not to have any. Suppose that it were desired to impose upon you by force even the conviction which you have. Suppose that an officer of police came to say to you, pronouncing at the same time the words which best expressed your own thoughts: "you are commanded so to believe." What would happen? If you had never had a doubt of your faith, you would be tempted to doubt it, the moment any human power presumed to impose it upon you. The feeling of oppression would produce in your conscience a strong inclination to revolt. Let us analyze this feeling. You feel that it is words, not convictions, which are imposed by force; you feel that declarations extorted by fear from lying lips are an outrage to truth. You feel, in a word, that your belief is the right of God over you, and not the right of your neighbor. Men respect God's right over the souls of their fellow-men, in proportion as they are intelligent in their own faith. The fanaticism which would impose words by force is not an ardent but a blind faith. In order to bring it back into the paths of liberty, it is enough to restore to it its sight. The establishment of the Christian religion furnishes a great example in support of our thesis. The Christians, when persecuted by the empire, had never allowed themselves to reply to the violence of power by the violence of rebellion. There came, however, and soon enough, a time when they were sufficiently numerous to defend themselves, and had withal the consciousness of their strength; but they had no will to conquer the world, except by the arms of martyrdom, and heroism, and obedience. This was not the case during a few years only, it is the history of three centuries, an ever-memorable page of human annals, in which all ages will be able to learn what are the true weapons of truth. Christendom, too often forgetful of its origin, has in later times allowed the fury of persecution to cloak itself under a pretended regard for sacred interests; but the remedy has proceeded from the very evil. The Christian conscience has protested, in the name of the Gospel, against the crimes of which the Gospel was the pretext, and the passions of men the cause. "We must bewail the misery and error of our time," already St. Hilary was exclaiming, in the fourth century. "Men are thinking that God has need of the protection of men.... The Church is uttering threats of banishment and imprisonment, and desiring to compel belief by force,--the Church, which itself acquired strength in exile and in prisons!" True faith, then, possesses a principle by which it protests against abuses which it is sought to cloak under its name, and this protest comes at last to make itself heard. Faith suppressed, the passions will remain, for in order to be a saint, it is not enough to be a sceptic. The passions will look for other pretexts. Will not the spirit of doubt offer them such pretexts? It seems at first sight that doubt must promote toleration, since it does not allow any importance to be attached to opinions. This is a specious conclusion, similar to that which placed in belief the source of intolerant passions. Let us once more reflect a little. The first effect of doubt is certainly to dispose the mind to leave a free course to all opinions; but disdain is not the way to respect, and only respect can give solid bases to the spirit of liberty. Believers are in the eyes of the sceptic weak-minded persons, whom he treats at first with a gentle and patronizing compassion. But these weak minds grow obstinate; the sceptic perceives that they do not bend before his superiority, and dare perhaps to consider themselves as his equals. Then irritation arises, and, beneath the velvet paw, one feels the piercing of the claw. The sceptic has in fact a dogma; he has but one, but one he has after all--the negation of truth. The faith of others is a protest against that single dogma on which he has concentrated all the powers of his conviction. He is passionately in earnest for this negation; he feels himself the representative of an idea, of which he must secure the triumph. Now come such surmisings as these: "Here are men who think themselves the depositaries of truth! These pretended believers--may they not be hypocrites?" Place men so disposed in positions of power; let them be the masters of society; what will follow? Beliefs are a cause of disturbances: what seemed at first an innocent weakness, takes then the character of a dangerous madness. For the politician, the temptation to extirpate this madness is not far off. "What if we were to get rid of this troublesome source of agitation! If we declared that the conscience of individuals belongs to the sovereign, what repose we should have in the State! If we proclaimed the true modern dogma, namely, that there is no dogma; if silencing, in short, fanatics who are behind their age, we decreed that every belief is a crime and every manifestation of faith a revolt, what quiet in society!" The incline is slippery, and what shall hold back the sceptic who is descending it? Faith carries with it the remedy for fanaticism, but where shall be found the remedy for the fanaticism of doubt? In the claims of God? God is but a word, or a worthless hypothesis. In respect for the convictions of others? All conviction is but weakness and folly. All this, be well assured, gives much matter for reflection. When I hear some men who call themselves liberal, tracing the ideal of the society which they desire, the bare imagination of their triumph frightens me, for I can understand that that society would enjoy the liberty of the Roman empire, and the toleration of the Cæsars. Such are the consequences of scepticism for the leaders of a people. What will those consequences be for the people themselves? The spirit of indifference paralyzes the sources of generous sentiments, and ends in the same results as the spirit of cowardice. And do you not know the part which cowardice has played in history? If I may venture to call up here the most mournful recollections of modern times, do you not know that during the Reign of Terror, two or three hundred scoundrels instituted public massacres in the Capital of France, in the midst of a population shuddering with fright, but who let things go? Now the characteristic of indifference is the letting things go. If fanaticism has something to do with persecution, indifference has a great deal to do with it. The crimes which minds paralyzed by doubt allow to be perpetrated have besides a sadder character than those which are perpetrated by passions, which, wild and erring though they be, have a certain nobleness in their origin. If I must be bound to the stake, I had rather burn with the blind assent of a fanatical crowd, than in the presence of an indifferent populace who came to look on. For just as sceptics find all doctrines equally good, so they find all spectacles equally instructive and curious.[35] I have felt it necessary to insist on these considerations. Direct attacks upon religious truth are perhaps less dangerous than the efforts by which modern infidelity endeavors to estrange us from God, by persuading us that doubt is the guarantee of liberty, and that belief rivets the chains of bondage. Many consciences are disturbed by these affirmations. It concerns us therefore to know that God is the great Liberator of souls, and that forgetfulness of God is the road to slavery. The faith which seeks to propagate itself by force inflicts upon itself the harshest of contradictions. The spirit of doubt, in order to become the spirit of violence, has only to transform itself according to the laws of its proper nature. And now to sum up. One of the noblest spectacles that earth can show, is that of a community animated with a true and profound faith, in which each man, using his best efforts to communicate his convictions to his brethren, respects the while that which belongs to God in the inviolable asylum of the conscience of others. But woe to the society formed by sophists, in which opinion, benumbed by doubt and indifference, arouses itself only to devote to hatred or to contempt every firm and noble conviction! To unsettle the idea of God, is to dry up its source the stream of the veritable progress of modern society; it is to attack the foundations of liberty, justice, and love. The material conquests of civilization would serve thenceforward only to hasten the decomposition of the social body. The pure idea of God is the true cause of the great progress of the modern era; religion, in its generality, is, as Plutarch has told us, the necessary condition to the very existence of society. This is what remains for us to prove. "How sacred is the society of citizens," said Cicero, "when the immortal gods are interposed between them as judges and as witnesses."[36] Let us raise still higher this lofty thought, and say: "How sacred is human society, when, beneath the eye of the common Father, the inequalities of life are accepted with patience and softened by love; when the poor and the rich, as they meet together, remember that the Lord is the Maker of them both; when a hope of immortality alleviates present evils, and when the consciousness of a common dignity reduces to their true value the passing differences of life!" Take away from human society God as mediator, and the hopes founded in God as a source of consolation, and what would you have remaining? The struggle of the poor against the rich, the envy of the ignorant directed against the man who has knowledge, the dullard's low jealousy of superior intelligence, hatred of all superiority, and, by an almost inevitable reaction, the obstinate defence of all abuses,--in one word, war--war admitting neither of remedy nor truce. Such is the most apparent danger which now threatens society. When I consider these facts with attention, I am astonished every day that society subsists at all, that the burning lava of unruly passions does not oftener make large fissures in the social soil, and overflow in devastating torrents, bearing away at once palace and cottage, field and workshop. This standing danger is drawing anxious attention, and we hear the old adage repeated: "There must be a religion for the people." There are men who wish to give the people a religion which they themselves do not possess, acting like a man who, at once poor and ostentatious, should give alms with counterfeit money. And what result do they attain? We must have a religion for the people, say the politicians, that they may secure the ends they have in view, and conduct at their own pleasure the herds at their disposal. We must have a religion for the people, say the rich, in order to keep peaceably their property and their incomes. We must have a religion for the people, say the _savants_, in order to remain quiet in their studies, or in their academic chairs. What are they doing--these men without God, who wish to preserve a faith for the use of the people? These _savants_,--they say, and print it, that religion is an error necessary for the multitudes who are incapable of rising to philosophy. Where is it that they say it, and print it? Is it in drawing-rooms with closed doors? Is it within the walls of Universities, or in scientific publications which are out of the reach of the masses? No. They say it in political journals, in reviews read by all the world; they print it at full in books which are sold by thousands of copies. Their words are spreading like a deleterious miasma through all classes of society. Thoughtless men! (I am unwilling to suppose a cool calculation on their part of money or of fame which should oblige me to say--heartless men), thoughtless men! they do not see the inevitable consequences of their own proceeding. The people hear and understand. The intellectual barriers between the different classes of society are gradually becoming lower: this is one of the clearest of the ways of Providence in our time. Do you believe that the people will long consent to hear it said that they only live on errors, but that those errors are necessary for them? Do you not see that they are about to rise, and answer, in the sentiment of their own dignity, that they will no longer be deceived, and that they intend to deliver themselves also from superstition? Then, all restraining barriers removed, passions will have free course; and believe me, the rising floods will not respect those quiet haunts of study in which they will have had one of their springs. The proof of this has been seen before. Some men of the last century wished to destroy religion amongst decent folk, but not for the rabble: they are Voltaire's words, who had too much good sense to be an atheist, but whose pale deism is sometimes scarcely distinguishable from the negation of God. "Your Majesty," thus he wrote to his friend the King of Prussia, in January, 1757, "will render an eternal service to the human race, by destroying that infamous superstition, I do not say amongst the rabble, which is not worthy to be enlightened, and to which all yokes are suitable, but amongst honest people." A religion was necessary for the people; but Voltaire and the King of Prussia, the German barons, the French marquises, and the ladies who received their homage, could do without it. Voltaire died before eating of the fruit of his works; and Alfred de Musset could only address to him his vengeful apostrophe at his tomb: Sleep'st thou content, and does thy hideous smile Still flit, Voltaire, above thy fleshless bones?[37] Voltaire was dead; but many of his friends and disciples were able to meditate, in the prisons of the Terror and as they mounted the steps of the scaffold, on the nature of the terrible game which they had played--and lost. So it fares with men of letters who have no God, but who would have a religion for the people. Other men there are who would have a religion for the people, being themselves the while without restraint, because they are without religious convictions. They abandon themselves to the ardent pursuit of riches, excitements, worldly pleasures. These are they who have made a fortune by disgraceful means, perhaps the public sale of their consciences, and who by their luxurious extravagance overwhelm the honest and economical working-man. These are the courtesans who parade in broad daylight the splendid rewards of their own infamy. Let not such deceive themselves! The people see these things; they form their judgment of them, and if they give way to the bad instincts which are in us all, where God is not in the heart to restrain them, to their hatred is added contempt. If they are forcibly kept back from realizing their cherished hopes, they adjourn them, but without renouncing them. Put away all belief in God, and you will see the action and reaction of human passions forming, as it were, a mass of opposite electricities, and preparing the thunder-peal and the furies of the tempest. Then appear those disorganized societies which are terrified at their own dissolution, until a strong man comes, and, taking advantage of this very terror, takes and chastises these societies, as one chastises an unruly child. It is a story at once old and new, because, in proportion as God withdraws from human society, in that same proportion the power of the sword replaces the empire of the conscience. There must be a religion for the people! Yes, Sirs, but for that people, wide as humanity, which includes us all. If the existence of God is denied, man falls into despair, and society into dissolution. What then is my inference? That atheism is false. Such a mode of arguing produces an outcry. "A matter of sentiment!" men exclaim. "You would build up a doctrine according to your own fancy! You do not discuss the question calmly, but appeal to interests and prejudices: you quit the domain of science, which takes cognizance only of facts and reasoning." Such expressions are common enough to make it worth while to study their value. Of course, science must not be an instrument of our caprice. We are bound to search for truth; and we are unfaithful to our obligations if we try to establish doctrines which serve our passions, or favor our interests, or flatter our tastes and our prejudices. But the conscience, the heart, the conditions of the existence of human society, are neither prejudices nor personal interests; they are eternal and living realities. We speak of the conscience, of the heart, of society, and they answer us: "We do not believe that there are true sciences in that domain; we only wish for facts." Occasionally we hear naturalists speak in this way. We only wish for facts! Then our thoughts, our feelings, our conscience are not facts! The man who will give the closest observation to the steps of a fly, or to a caterpillar's method of crawling, has not a moment's attention to give to the impulses of the heart, to the rules of duty, to the struggles of the will; and when addressed on the subject of these realities of the soul, the most certain of all realities, he will reply: "That is no business of mine, I want nothing but facts." Let us pass from this aberration, and listen for a moment to other objectors. We do not deny, it is often said, the reality of our feelings. Man desires happiness, and seeks it in religious belief; but this is an order of things which science cannot take account of. Science has only truth for its object, and owes its own existence wholly to the reason. If it happens to science to give pain to the heart or to the conscience, no conclusion can thence be drawn against the certainty of its results. "There is no commoner, and at the same time faultier, way of reasoning, than that of objecting to a philosophical hypothesis the injury it may do to morals and to religion. When an opinion leads to absurdity, it is certainly false; but it is not certain that it is false because it entails dangerous consequences."[38] So wrote the patriarch of modern sceptics, the Scotchman Hume. The lesson has been well learnt; it is repeated to us, without end, in the columns of the leading journals of France, and in the pages of the _Revue des deux Mondes_. The adversaries of spiritual beliefs have changed their tactics. In the last century, they replied to minds alarmed for the consequences of their work: "Truth can never do harm."--"Truth can never do harm," retorted J.J. Rousseau: "I believe it as you do, and this it is that proves to me that your doctrines are not truth." The argument is conclusive. So the adversary has taken up another position; and he says at this day:--"Our doctrines do perhaps pain the heart, and wound the conscience, but this is no reason why they should be false: moral goodness, utility, happiness, are not signs by which we may know what is true." Philosophy, Gentlemen, has always assumed to be the universal explanation of things, and you will agree that it is on her part a humiliating avowal, that she is enclosed, namely, in a circle of pure reason, and leaves out of view, as being unable to give any account of them, the great realities which are called moral goodness and happiness. One might ask what are the bases of that science which disavows, without emotion, the most active powers of human nature. One might ask whether those who so speak, understand well the meaning of their own words; and inquire also what is the method which they employ, and the result at which they aim. One might ask whether these philosophers are not like astronomers who should say: "Here are our calculations. It matters nothing to us whether the stars in their observed course do or do not agree with them. Science is sovereign; it is amenable only to its own laws, and visible realities cannot be objections in the way of its calculations." Let us leave these preliminary remarks, and let us come to the core of the controversy. They set the reason on one side, the conscience and heart upon the other, as an anatomist separates the organic portions of a corpse, and they say: Truth belongs only to the reason; the conscience and the heart have no admission into science. Listen to the following express declaration of the weightiest, perhaps, of French contemporary philosophers: "The God of the pure reason is the only true God; the God of the imagination, the God of the feelings, the God of the conscience, are only idols!"[39] It is impossible to accept this arbitrary division of the divine attributes. There is but one and the same God, the Substance of truth, the inexhaustible Source of beauty, the supreme Law of the wills created to accomplish the designs of His mercy. The conscience, the heart, the reason rise equally towards Him, following the triple ray which descends from His eternity upon our transitory existence. We cannot therefore seriously admit that God of the pure reason, separated from the God of the conscience and of the heart. Still let us endeavor to make this concession, for argument's sake, to our philosopher. Let us suppose that the reason has a God to itself, a God for the metaphysicians who is not the God of the vulgar. Before we immolate upon His altar the conscience and the heart, it is worth our while to examine whether the statue of the God of the reason rests upon a solid pedestal. Here are the theses which are proposed to us: "It is impossible for our feelings to supply any light for science. Truth may be gloomy, and despair may gain its cause. Virtue may be wrong, and immorality may be the true. Reason alone judges of that which is." I answer: Human nature has always eagerly followed after happiness. Human nature has always acknowledged, even while violating it, a rule of duty. The heart is not an accident, the conscience is not a prejudice: they are, and by the same right as the reason, constituent elements of our spiritual existence. If there exist an irreconcilable antagonism between science and life; if the heart, in its fundamental and universal aspirations, is the victim of an illusion, if the conscience in its clearest admonitions is only a teacher of error, what is our position? In what I am now saying, Gentlemen, I am not appealing to your feelings; the business is to follow, with calm attention, a piece of exact reasoning. If the heart deceives us, if the voice of duty leads us astray, the disorder is at the very core of our being; our nature is ill constructed. If our nature is ill constructed, what warrants to us our reason? Nothing. What assures us that our axioms are good, and that our reasonings have any value? Nothing. The life of the soul cannot be arbitrarily cloven in twain; it must be held for good in all its constituent elements, or enveloped wholly and entirely in the shades of doubt. If the heart and conscience deceive us, then reason may lead us astray, and the very idea of truth disappears. God is the light of the spiritual world. We prove His existence by showing that without Him all returns to darkness. This demonstration is as good as another. FOOTNOTES: [26] Christian States have given the force of law to institutions, such, for instance, as monogamy, which date their origin from the Gospel records. Here we have the normal development of civilization: religious faith enlightens the general conscience, and reveals to it the true conditions of social progress. In this order of things, it is not a question of _beliefs_, but of _acts_ imposed in the name of the interests of society. The state may take account of the religious beliefs of its subjects, and enter into such relations as may seem to it convenient with the ecclesiastical authorities: this is the basis of the system of concordats, a system which has nothing in it contrary to first principles, so long as liberty is maintained. But the establishment of _national_ religions, decreed by the temporal power and varying in different states, manifestly supposes a foundation of scepticism. For the idea of truth, one and universal in itself, is substituted the idea of decisions obligatory for those only who are under the jurisdiction of a definite political body. If the State, without pretending to decree dogma, receives it from the hands of the Church, and imposes it upon its subjects, it seems at first that the temporal power has placed itself at the service of the Church, but that the idea of truth is preserved. But when the question is studied more closely, it is seen that this is not the case, and that the state usurps in fact, in this combination, the attributes of the spiritual power. In fact, before protecting _the true religion_, it is necessary to ascertain which it is; and in order to ascertain the true religion, the political power must constitute itself judge of religious truth. So we come back, by a _détour_, to the conception of national religions. The Emperor of Russia and the Emperor of Austria will inquire respectively which is the only true religion, to the exclusive maintenance of which they are to consecrate their temporal power. To the same question they will give two different replies; and each nation will have its own form of worship, just as each nation has its own ruler. [27] _Etudes orientales_, 1861. [28] _Unité morale des peuples modernes_,--a lecture delivered at Lyons, 10 April, 1839. This lecture is inserted after the _Génie des Religions_ in the complete works of the author. [29] Franck, _Philosophie du droit ecclésiastique_, pages 117 and 118. [30] Schmidt, _Essai historique sur la Société civile dans le monde romain_. Bk. 1. ch. 3. [31] La liberté que j'aime est née avec notre âme Le jour où le plus juste a bravé le plus fort. [32] Tertullian. [33] _Le Père Lacordaire_, by the Comte de Montalembert, p. 25. [34] _De l'autre rive_, by Iscander (in Russian). Iscander is the pseudonyme of M. Herzen. [35] "The man of thought knows that the world only belongs to him as a subject of study, and, even if he could reform it, perhaps he would find it so curious as it is that he would not have the courage to do so."--Ernest Renan, preface to _Etudes d'histoire religieuse_, 1857. The author has manifested better sentiments in 1859, in the preface to his _Essais de morale et de critique._ [36] _De Legibus_, ii. 7. [37] Dors-tu content, Voltaire, et ton hideux sourire Voltige-t-il encor sur tes os décharnés? [38] Hume, Essay VIII. On liberty and necessity. [Not having access to the original, I re-translate the French translation.--TR.] [39] Vacherot, _La metaphysique et la science_. Preface, p. xxix. LECTURE III. _THE REVIVAL OF ATHEISM._ (At Geneva, 24th Nov. 1863.--At Lausanne, 18th Jan. 1864.) GENTLEMEN, The subject of the present Lecture will be--The revival of Atheism. And I do not employ the word 'atheism'--a term which has been so greatly abused--without mature reflection. When Socrates opposed the idea of the holy God to the impure idols of paganism; when he dethroned Jupiter and his train in order to celebrate "the supreme God, who made and who guides the world, who maintains the works of creation in the flower of youth, and in a vigor always new,"[40] they accused Socrates of being an atheist. Descartes, the great geometrician who proclaimed the existence of God more certain than any theorem of geometry, has been denounced as an atheist. When men began to forsake the temples of idols in order to worship the unknown God who had just manifested Himself to the world, the Christians were accused of atheism because they refused to bow down to wood and stone. Such abuses might dispose one to renounce the use of the word. Besides, when a word has been for a long time the signal of persecution and the forerunner of death, one hesitates to employ it. In an age when atheists were burned, generous minds would use their best efforts to prove that men suspected of atheism had not denied God, because they would not have been understood had they attempted to say--"They have denied God perhaps, but that is no reason for killing them." Thence arose the sophistical apologies for certain doctrines, apologies made with a good intention, but which trouble the sincerity of history. These are the brands of servitude, which must disappear where liberty prevails. We are able now to call things by their proper names, for there exist no longer for atheism either stakes or prisons. In affirming that certain writers, some of whom are just now the favorites of fame, are shaking the foundations of all religion, one exposes no one to severities which have disappeared from our manners, one only exposes oneself to the being taxed with intolerance and fanaticism. But candor is here a duty. If this duty were not fulfilled, liberty of thought would no longer be anything else than liberty of negation; and, while truth was oppressed, error alone would be set free. Let us settle clearly the terms of this discussion. It is often asserted that an atheist does not exist. Does this mean that the lips which deny God, always in some way contradict themselves? Does it mean that every soul bears witness to God, perhaps unconsciously to itself, either by a secret hope, or by a secret dread? This is true, as I think; but we are speaking here of doctrines and not of men. It is true again that the negation of the Creator allows of the existence, in certain philosophies, of generous ideas and elevated conceptions. Such men, while they put God out of existence, desire to keep the true, the beautiful, the good; they hope to preserve the rays, while they extinguish the luminous centre from which they proceed. Such systems always tend to produce the deadly fruits pointed out in my last lecture; but men devoted to the severe labors of the intellect often escape, by a noble inconsistency, the natural results of their theories. Therefore, in the inquiry on which we are about to enter, the term 'atheism' implies, with regard to persons, neither reproach nor contempt. It simply indicates a doctrine, the doctrine which denies God. This denial takes place in two ways: It is affirmed that nature, that is to say matter, force devoid of intelligence and of will, is the sole origin of things; or, the reality is acknowledged of those marks which raise mind above nature, but it is affirmed that humanity is the highest point of the universe, and that above it there is nothing. Such are the two forms of atheism. Perhaps you expect here the explanation of a doctrine which is often described as holding a sort of middle place between the negation and the affirmation of God, namely, pantheism. Pantheism, in the true sense of that word, is a system according to which God is all, and the universe nothing. This extraordinary thesis is met with in India. A Greek, Parmenides, has vigorously sustained it. We have in it a kind of sublime infatuation. In presence of the one and eternal Being thought collapses in bewilderment; and thenceforward it experiences for all that is manifold and transitory a disdain which passes into negation. In the domain of experience, all is limited, temporary, imperfect; and reason seeks the perfect, the eternal, the infinite. The doctrine of creation alone explains how the universe subsists in presence of its first cause. In ignorance of this doctrine, some bold thinkers have cut the knot which they could not untie. They have declared that reason alone is right, and that experience is wrong: the world does not exist, it is but an illusion of the mind. Whence proceeds this illusion? If perfection alone exists, how comes that imperfect mind to exist which deceives itself in believing in the reality of the world? To this question the system has no answer. Such is true pantheism; but it is not to dangers so noble that most minds run the risk of succumbing. What is commonly understood by pantheism is the deification of the universe. The idea of God is not directly denied, but it undergoes a transformation which destroys it. God is no longer the eternal and Almighty Spirit, the Creator; but the unconscious principle, the substance of things, the whole. The universe alone exists; above it there is nothing; but the universe is infinite, eternal, divine. The higher wants of the reason, mingling with the data derived from experience, form an imposing and confused image, which, while it beguiles the imagination, perverts the understanding, deceives the heart, and places the conscience in peril. In a philosophical point of view, it is a contradiction of thought, which seeks the Infinite Being, and, being unable to discover Him, gives the character of infinity to realities bounded by experience. In a religious point of view, it is an aberration of the heart, which preserves the sentiment of adoration, but perverts it by dispersing it over the universe. "Pantheism," says M. Jules Simon, "is only the learned form of atheism; the universe deified is a universe without God."[41] From the moment that the reason endeavors to see distinctly, pantheism vanishes like a deceitful glare. Atheism disengages itself from the cloak which was concealing its true nature, and the mind remains in presence of nature only, or of humanity only. We will proceed to take a rapid glance at some few of the countries of Europe, in order to discover and point out in them the traces of this melancholy doctrine. Let us begin with France. In the year 1844, just twenty years ago, some French writers, representing the philosophy, in some measure official, of the time, united to publish a _Dictionnaire des sciences philosophiques_. M. Franck, the director of this useful and laborious enterprise, said in the preface to the work: "Atheism has well nigh completely disappeared from philosophy; the progress of a sound psychology will render its return for ever impossible." In speaking thus, he expressed the thoughts and hopes of the school of which he remains one of the most estimable representatives. A generous impulse was animating a group of intelligent and learned young men. Their hope was to translate Christianity into a purely rational doctrine, to purify religious notions without destroying them, and, while endowing humanity with a vigorous scientific culture, to leave to it its lofty hopes. The object in view was to establish a philosophy founded upon a serious faith in God; and to this philosophy was promised the progressive and pacific conquest of the human race.[42] Twenty years have passed, and things bear quite another aspect. To language expressive of security have succeeded the accents of anxiety and words of alarm. The cause which was proclaimed victorious is defended at this day like a besieged city. You will remark however,--that I may not leave you beyond measure discouraged by the facts of which I have to tell you,--you will remark, I say, that it is the efforts attempted in the cause of good which have helped to set me on the track of evil; it has often been the defence which has fixed my attention upon the attack. The materialism of the last century seems to have maintained a strong hold upon one part of the Paris school of medicine. We do find in France a good many physicians who, like Boerhave, render homage to religion, and a good many physiologists who, like the great Haller, are ready to defend beliefs of the spiritual order;[43] but, among men specially devoted to the study of matter, many succumb to the temptation of refusing to recognize anything as real which does not come under the experience of the senses. This however is not one of the points which offer themselves most strikingly for our examination. The atheistic manifestations of the socialist schools have more novelty, and perhaps more importance. Man is naturally a social being. Good and evil have their primitive seat in the heart of individuals, but good and evil are transferred into institutions of which the influence is morally beneficial or pernicious. If socialism consists in recognizing the importance of social institutions, in cherishing ideas of progress and hopes of reform, I trust that we are all socialists. Do we desire progress by the ever wider diffusion of justice and love? From the moment that, across the conscience whereon divine rays are falling, we have descried the eternal centre of light, we understand that God is the most implacable enemy of abuses. How is it then that atheism sometimes manifests itself in attempts at social reform? We may explain it, without so much as pointing out the influence, but too real, of the faults committed by the representatives of religion. Faith is a principle of action; it is, as history testifies, the grand source of the progress of human society; but faith is also a principle of patience. The brow of every believer is more or less illumined by the rays of His peace who is patient because He is eternal. Eager to effect good to the utmost extent of his ability, he accomplishes his work with that calm activity to which are reserved durable victories. In the impossible (for if the word impossible is not French, it is human) the believer recognizes one of the manifestations of the supreme Will, and immortal hope enables him to support the evils which he does not succeed in destroying. But this is not enough for impatient reformers. Ignorant of the profound sources of evil, they think that institutions can do everything, and that a change of laws would suffice to reform men's hearts; they believe that the organization of society alone hinders the realization of good and of happiness. The resignation of believers appears to them a stupid lethargy, and in their patient expectation of a judgment to come they see only an obstacle to the immediate triumph of justice on the earth. What if the nations were persuaded that there is nothing to be looked for beyond the present life, so that all that is to be done is to make to ourselves a paradise as soon as may be here below! If they were persuaded that all appeal to the Judge in heaven is a chimerical hope, with what ardor would they throw themselves into schemes of revolution! Thus it is that certain political innovators are led to seek in the negation of God one of their means of action. Two views, therefore, essentially diverse, govern the labors of the renovators of society. The one class desire to realize, in an ever larger measure, justice and love; religious convictions are the strongest support of their work. The other class would uproot from men's minds every principle of faith, in order the more readily to obtain the realization of their theories. These two classes of men seem at times to be fighting all together in the _mêlée_ of opinions. They meet, as, in the doubtful glimmer of the dawn, might meet together laborious workmen who are anticipating the daylight, and evil-doers who are fleeing from the sun. In order to form a just estimate of the labors of the socialist schools, it would be necessary to make a bold and straightforward inquiry into the object of their studies, and to discern, in the midst of mad-brained and guilty dreams, whatever flashes of light might disclose some prophetic vision of the future. This is no task of ours. It is enough for us to remark that in France, as also in the other countries of Europe, the negation of God discovers itself in this order of ideas. It discovers itself at one time by an idolatry of humanity, at another by a materialistic enthusiasm for corporeal indulgences. Disregarding the sensual imaginations which disgrace the works of Fourrier, let us turn our attention elsewhere. M. Vacherot, a sober philosopher, of high intellectual power and elevated sentiment, has lately published, unhappily, twelve hundred pages destined to maintain the thesis that God does not exist.[44] Man conceives the idea of perfection, and not finding that perfection realized either in the world or in himself, he rises to the conception of a real and perfect being: such is the usual process of metaphysical reasoning. For M. Vacherot, reality and perfection mutually exclude one another; this is one of his fundamental theses. This thesis does but interpret the result of our experience, by refusing us the right to raise ourselves higher. The world with which we are acquainted is imperfect; therefore--say Plato, Saint Augustine, and Descartes--the perfection of which we have the idea is realized in a Being superior to the world. The world with which we are acquainted is imperfect, therefore there is a contradiction between the ideal and the real, says M. Vacherot, who makes thus of the general result of experience the absolute rule of truth. To say therefore of God that He is perfect, is to affirm that He does not exist, inasmuch as the ideal is never realized. Thought thus finds itself placed in a situation at once odd and violent. If God is perfect, He does not exist. If God exists, He is not perfect. The respect which we owe to the Being of beings forbids us to believe in Him; to affirm His existence would be to do outrage to His perfection. The author of this theory renders a worship to that ideal which does not exist, and towards which he affirms nevertheless that the world is gravitating by the law of progress. This worship is of too abstract a nature to secure many adherents; it can only become popular by taking another shape, and it does so in this way: We conceive of that perfection which in itself does not exist; it exists therefore in our thought. Since the world, by the law of progress, is tending towards perfection, the world has for its end and law a thought of the human mind. The human mind therefore is the summit of the universe, and it is it that we must adore. We are here out of the region of pure abstraction, and arrive at the doctrines of the Positivist school. The Positive philosophy, so called because it wishes to have done with chimeras, was founded in France, a few years ago, by Auguste Comte. M. Littré is at present one of its principal representatives. This writer, says M. Sainte-Beuve, is one of those who are endeavoring "to set humanity free from illusions, from vague disputes, from vain solutions, from deceitful idols and powers."[45] Let us say the same thing in simpler terms: M. Littré professes the doctrines of a school which ignores the Creator in nature, and Providence in history. To ascertain phenomena, and acquaint ourselves with the law which governs them, such, say the positivists, is the limit of all our knowledge. As for the origin of things and their destination, that is an affair of individual fancy. "Each one may be allowed to represent such matters to himself as he likes; there is nothing to hinder the man who finds a pleasure in doing so from dreaming upon that past and that future."[46] "In spite of some appearances to the contrary," says M. Littré, "the positive philosophy does not accept atheism."[47] Why? Because atheism pretends to give an explanation of the universe, and that after a fashion is still theology. Minds "veritably emancipated" profess to know nothing whatever on questions which go beyond actual experience. They do not deny God, they eliminate Him from the thoughts. The attempt is a bold one, but it fails; men do not succeed in emancipating themselves from the laws of reason. The very writer whom I have just quoted is himself a proof of this, for he absolutely proscribes every statement of a metaphysical nature, and then, three pages farther on, in the very treatise in which he makes this proscription, he speaks of the "_eternal_ motive powers of a _boundless_ universe."[48] Boundless! eternal! What thoughts are these? Behold the instincts of the reason coming to light! behold all the divine attributes appearing! Adoration is withdrawn from God, and it is given to the universe at large. What is it which, in the universe regarded as a whole, will become the direct object of worship? Another positivist, M. de Lombrail, will tell us, in a work reviewed by Auguste Comte: "Man," he says, "has always adored humanity." Here, we learn, is the true foundation of all religions, and the brief summary of their history. This humanity-god has been long adored under a veil which disguised it from the eyes of its worshippers; but the time is come when the sage ought to recognize the object of his worship and give it its true name.[49] The positivist school, then, professes a complete scepticism with regard to whatever is not included in the domain of experience. But its foot slips, and it falls into the negation of God, from which it rises again by means of a humanitarian atheism. All these marks are met with again in the works of the critical school. The critics group themselves about M. Renan. The praises which they lavished a while ago on a bad book by that author seem at least to allow us to point him out as their chief. They derive their name from studies in history and archæology, with which we here have nothing to do. They are regarded as forming a philosophical and religious school, and it is in that connection that they claim our attention. Their influence is incontestable, and still, notwithstanding, their doctrinal value is nothing. They form merely a literary branch of the positivist school engrafted upon the eclecticism of M. Cousin. We find in their writings the pretension to limit science to the experimental study of nature and to humanity. We afterwards find there the pretension to understand and to accept all doctrines alike. Beyond this, nothing. The critics bestow particular attention on the phenomena of religion, of art, and of philosophy; but this interest is purely historical. Nothing is more curious than the successive forms of human beliefs; but the period of beliefs is over. Religious faith no longer subsists except in minds which are behind the age; and philosophy, upheld in a final swoon by Hegel and Hamilton, has just yielded its last breath in the arms of M. Cousin: so M. Renan informs us.[50] To choose a side between the defenders of the idea of God and its opponents; to choose between Plato and Epicurus, between Origen and Celsus, between Descartes and Hobbes, between Leibnitz and Spinoza, would be to make one's self the Don Quixote of thought. An honest man may find amusement in reading the Amadis of Gaul; the Knight of _la Manche_ went mad through putting faith in the adventures of that hero. A like fate befalls those minds which are simple enough to believe still, in the midst of the nineteenth century, in the brave chimeras of former days. Let us study history, let us study nature; beyond that we do not know, and we never shall know, anything. Our fashionable men of letters develop their thesis with so much assurance; they lavish upon believers so many expressions of amiable disdain; they appear so sure of being the interpreters of the mind of the age, that they seem ready to repeat to young people dazzled by their success, the lesson which Gilbert had expressed in these terms: Between ourselves--you own a God, I fear! Beware lest in your verse the fact appear: Dread the wits' laughter, friend, and know your betters: Our grandsires might have worn those old-world fetters; But in our days! Come, you must learn respect,-- Content _your age to follow_, not direct.[51] To believe in God would be vulgar; to deny the existence of God would be a want of taste; the divine world must remain as a subject for poetry. So our critics speak. Their direct affirmation is scepticism. But they follow the destinies of the positivist school; they do not succeed in maintaining their balance between the affirmation and negation of God. Alfred de Musset has described this position of the soul, and its inevitable issue. Must I hope in God? Must I reject all faith and all hope? Between these paths how difficult the choice! Ah! might I find some smoother, easier way. "None such exists," whispers a secret voice, "God _is_, or _is not_--own, or slight, His sway." In sooth, I think so: troubled souls in turn By each extreme are tossed and harassed sore: They are but atheists, who feel no concern; If once they doubted they would sleep no more.[52] The indifference of the critical philosophers is in fact only a transparent veil to atheistical doctrines. Faith in God the Creator is in their eyes a superstition; this is their only settled dogma. In other respects they indulge in theses the most contradictory. Most generally they deify man, declaring that there is no other God than the idea of humanity, no other infinite than the indefinite character of the aspirations of our own soul. At other times they proclaim an undisguised materialism, and look for the explanation of all things in atoms and in the law which governs them. They make to themselves a two-faced idol, one of these faces being called nature, and the other humanity. What strangely increases the confusion is that all the terms of language change meaning as employed by their pen. They speak of God, of duty, of religion, of immortality; their pages seem sometimes to be extracted from mystical writings; but these sacred words have for them a totally different meaning than for the ordinary run of their readers. Their God is not a Being, their religion is not a worship, their duty is not a law, their immortality is not the hope of a world to come. Amidst these equivocations and contradictions thought is blunted, and the sinews of the intellect are unstrung. The public, bewitched by talent and captivated by success, is deluged with writings which have the same effect as the talk of a frivolous man, or the showy tattle of a woman of the world. They give an agreeable exercise to the mind, without ever allowing it to form either a precise idea or a settled judgment. Many are the clouds then on the intellectual horizon of France. Glance over the recent productions of French philosophy, and you will have no difficulty in recognizing the gravity of the situation. Works are multiplying with the object of defending the existence of God, Providence, the immortality of the soul: dams are being raised against the rising flood of atheism.[53] And here is a fact still more significant, namely, that the historians of ideas, whether they are recurring to the most remote antiquity, or are passing in review the worst errors of modern days, cannot meet with the negation of God, without having their eyes thus turned to Paris, and their attention directed to contemporary productions.[54] I hence infer, that atheism is raising its head in France, and there presenting itself under two forms. Materialism is appearing principally as an heritage from the last century. The new, or rather renewed, doctrine is the adoration of man by man. We are now going to cross the Rhine. A powerful thinker, Hegel, had supreme sway in the last movement of speculative thought in Germany. Hegel's system of doctrine is enveloped in clouds. It is so ambiguous in regard to the questions which most directly concern the conscience and human interests, that it has been pretended to deduce from it, on the one hand a Christian theology, and on the other a sheer atheism. There is a story, whether a true one or not I cannot say, that this philosopher when near his end uttered the following words: "I have only had one disciple who has understood me--and he has misunderstood me." A man distinguished in metaphysical research by taste, genius, and science, and who has, in that respect, devoted particular attention to Germany, M. Charles Secrétan, writes with reference to the fundamental principle of the entire Hegelian system: "If you ask me how I understand the matter, I will give you no answer; I do not understand it at all, and I do not believe that any one has ever understood it."[55] You will excuse me, Gentlemen, from here undertaking the scientific study of so difficult a system. It will be enough for us to render the darkness visible, that is to say, to understand well what it is which the doctrine of the Berlin Professor, in a certain sense, renders incomprehensible. The foundation of his theory is that the universe is explained by an eternal idea, an idea which exists by itself, without appertaining to any mind. The Hegelians say that the existence of an infinite Mind is an inadmissible conception. They reject this mystery, and prefer to it the palpable absurdity of an idea which exists in itself, without being the act of an intelligence. This idea-God we have already encountered in the writings of M. Vacherot. We shall find it again more than once as we go on. In Germany, as in France, the theory only becomes popular by undergoing a transformation. The eternal idea manifests itself in the mind of man, and exists nowhere else. Above this idea there is nothing. Man is therefore the summit of things; it is he who must be adored. And thus it is in fact that Hegel has been understood. In the spring of 1850, Henri Heine wrote as follows in the _Gazette d'Augsbourg_: "I begin to feel that I am not precisely a biped deity, as Professor Hegel declared to me that I was twenty-five years ago." The deification of man: such is the popular translation of the philosophy of the idea. Would you have a further proof of this? The following anecdote was current in my youth, when German idealism was at the height of its popularity. A student going to call on one of his fellow-students, found him stretched on his bed, or his sofa, and exhibiting all the signs of an ecstatic contemplation. "Why, what are you doing there?" inquired the visitor. "I am adoring myself," replied the young adept in philosophy. I am not examining the doctrines of Hegel with reference to the history of metaphysics, and within the precincts of the school in which it occupies a large place and demands the most serious attention; I am tracing the influence of those doctrines on the public mind at large. This influence is visible in the most disastrous consequences of atheism. "It certainly is not the Hegelian school alone," says M. Saint-Réné Taillandier, "which has produced all the moral miseries of the nineteenth century, all those unbridled desires, all those revolts of matter in a fury;[56] but it sums them all up in its formulæ, it gives them, by its scientific way of representing them, a pernicious authority, it multiplies them by an execrable propaganda."[57] It was through Feuerbach principally that the evolution was to be brought about which has led the Hegelian system, severely idealistic in its commencement, to favor at length _the revolts of matter run mad_. And this evolution is only natural after all. If the universe is the development of an idea, and not the work of an intelligent Will, all is necessary in the world, for the development of an idea is a matter of destiny. Where all is necessary, all is legitimate: the desires of the flesh as well as the laws of thought and of conscience. But, from the moment that the flesh is emancipated, it aims at absolute empire, and ends by obtaining it: this is matter of fact. Feuerbach has put atheism into a definite shape, and disengaged it from all obscurity. There exists no other infinite than the infinite in our thoughts; above us there exists nothing; no law which binds us, no power which governs us: the work of modern science is to set man free from God, for God is an idol. But man thus set free from all bonds and from all duty is not, for Feuerbach, the individual, but humanity. The individual owes himself to his species; "the true sage will make no more silly and fantastic sacrifices, but he will never refuse sacrifices which are really serviceable to humanity."[58] Here then is still a bond, a religion, and sacrifices; the emancipation is incomplete. What is this humanity to which man owes himself? An abstraction, an idol still, an idol to be overthrown if he would obtain perfect independence. Listen to the German Stirmer, deducing from the doctrine its extreme consequences: "Perish the people," he exclaims, "perish Germany, perish all the nations of Europe; and let man, rid of all bonds, delivered from the last phantoms of religion, recover at length his full independence!"[59] All the mists of abstraction have now disappeared: here we are on ground which is hideously clear. Humanity is no longer in question, but the worship of _self_; it is the complete enfranchisement of selfishness. While the proud idealism of the Germans was thus, by its own weight, descending into the level flats of thought, a political movement was agitating Germany. Simple-minded poets were celebrating atheism with an enthusiasm which seemed sincere; and, at the same time, men who are not simple-minded, journalists and demagogues, were laying hold of the irreligion as a lever with which to make a breach in the social edifice. In the year 1845, the attention of the Swiss authorities was drawn to certain secret societies, composed of Germans, and having for their object a revolution in Germany, but which had established their basis of operations on the Swiss territory. The inquiries of the police issued in the discovery of twenty-seven clubs bound together by secret correspondence. Working-men were induced on various pretexts to attend meetings, of which the real object was only gradually disclosed to them. If they were reckoned worthy, they were initiated into the plan of a social reform, the basis of which was atheism.[60] One of the principal agents in this work of proselytism, Guillaume Marr, exclaimed: "Faith in a personal and living God is the origin and the fundamental cause of our miserable social condition." And he deduced as follows the practical consequence of his theory: "The idea of God is the key-stone of the arch of a tottering civilization; let us destroy it. The true road to liberty, to equality, and to happiness, is atheism. No safety on earth, so long as man holds on by a thread to heaven.--Let nothing henceforward shackle the spontaneity of the human mind. Let us teach man that there is no other God than himself, that he is the Alpha and the Omega of all things, the superior being, and the most real reality." We have still to explain the nature of this spontaneity, free from every shackle. One of the editors of the journal conducted by Marr discloses it by quoting some verses in which Henri Heine expresses the wish to see _great vices, bloody and colossal crimes_, provided he may be delivered from a _worthy-citizen virtue_, and an _honest-merchant morality_![61] A little later, a journal of German Switzerland asserted, that in order to set free man's natural instincts and propensities, it is indispensable to destroy the idea of God.[62] These, I am well aware, are the screams of a savage madness. But after all, and be this as it may, Marr was publishing his journal at Lausanne in 1845, and in 1848 he was named representative of the people, by a considerable majority, in one of the largest cities of Germany. And this was by no means an isolated fact. Atheism showed itself in the ephemeral parliament of Frankfort as a sort of party, of which M. Vogt, says the _Revue des Deux Mondes_, was the great orator.[63] The German revolution was put down by the bayonet, but the doctrines of which it had revealed the existence, left vestiges for a long time in the country of the terror which they had inspired. Alarm was felt for the various interests threatened, and noble souls were stirred with compassion by the conviction forced upon them of the spiritual miseries of their brethren. A powerful reaction took place, as well in the religious as the philosophical world. This reaction has produced salutary results; but the object is not fully attained. Open the journals and the reviews, and you will learn that Germany is, in these days, the principal centre of materialism. It is unhappily so rich in this respect, that it can afford to engage in exportation, and to furnish professors of the school to other countries of Europe. Doctor Büchner has published, under the title of _Force and Matter_, a small volume which has rapidly reached a seventh edition, and has lately been translated into French.[64] Materialism is there set forth with perfect arrogance, or, to speak more moderately, with perfect audacity. The author pretends to confine himself strictly within the domain of experience, and it is wonderful with what haughtiness he proscribes the researches of philosophy. It would seem therefore that the question of the nature of things ought to remain outside the circle of his studies. Nevertheless, he declares matter to be eternal and the universe infinite. I ask you how long it would be necessary to have lived in order to pronounce matter eternal in the name of experience; and what journeys it would have been necessary to make, before ascertaining by means of observation that the universe is infinite. We shall have occasion to recur to this subject. Meanwhile we may be very sure that experience supplies no system of metaphysics, and that materialism is a metaphysical system as strongly marked as any. When its adepts cry out, Away with philosophy! they mean by that simply: We will have no good philosophy, that we may be free to make bad philosophy of our own without rivalry. A proceeding which reminds one of certain demagogues who cry with all their might, Down with tyrants! and who thus succeed in making out of the fear of the tyranny of others the solid foundation of their own despotism. We find then in Germany, first of all the doctrine of the idea set forth with _éclat_ by Hegel, then atheism mixed up with political notions and projects, and lastly materialism. The elements are the same as in France, but exhibit themselves in a different order. This diversity suggests some observations worth your attention. France, setting out with the materialism of the eighteenth century, rose to that adoration of man which characterizes at the present day the greater part of its atheistical manifestations. German atheism, having as its starting-point an abstract idealism of which the adoration of man was the result, has descended to the levels of materialism.[65] We may inquire into the theory of these facts, and say why materialism rises to the adoration of man by a natural movement; and why, also by a natural movement, the adoration of man descends again to materialism. Materialism infers from its principles the denial of any future to man, and not only any future, but any true value, any real existence. We are nothing but an agglomeration of molecules, ready to separate without leaving any trace of ever having been together. Is not this a thing to be said sadly, as the saddest thing in the world? Why then are the apostles of matter nearly always assuming the loftiest tone, and uttering shouts of triumph? It is that they feel themselves free, emancipated from that terror which has made the gods, ... that brood of idle fear Fine nothings worshipped,--_why_, doth not appear; The gods--whom man made, and who made not man.[66] Emancipation! Such is the watchword of materialism. Listen, for example, to the conclusion of Baron d'Holbach's _System of Nature_: "Break the chains," says he, "which are binding men. Send back those gods who are afflicting them to those imaginary regions from whence fear first drew them forth. Inspire with courage the intelligent being; give him energy; let him dare at length to love himself, to esteem himself, to feel his own dignity; let him dare to emancipate himself, let him be happy and free." Strange accents these, at the close of a large philosophical treatise intended to prove that there is nothing in the universe but matter. Whence proceeds the dignity of that fragment of matter which calls itself man? Understand well what passes in the mind of these philosophers. In proportion as man lowers his own origin, in the same proportion,--if he does not wish to make himself a brute, in order to live as do the animals,--he exalts himself in an inevitable sentiment of pride. In vain does he give out that the material frame is everything; he feels that thought is more than the material frame; and he accords to himself the first place in the universe. The materialist ignores the Eternal Mind in order to emancipate himself; and whatever he may say, his real deity is not the atom, but himself. The encyclopedists, sons of an age which yielded at once to noble influences and to guilty seductions, united the worship of progress to a degrading philosophy. Consider with what a feeling of pride they lowered man, and you will understand why eternal nature gave place to sacred humanity. When France had fallen into the delirium of irreligion, it was not a little dust in an earthen vase which was offered for public adoration, but they led in procession through the streets of Paris a woman who was called the goddess Reason. So it was that materialism ended in the adoration of man. Let us endeavor to understand how the adoration of man turns again to materialism. The mind endowed with intelligence and will is more elevated in the scale of being than inert bodies. This is for us an evident truth. Could one demonstrate it by reasoning? I do not know; but in contesting it, we should contradict the plainest evidence. Reason is superior to matter. If, with the school which extends from Pythagoras to Saint Augustine, and from Saint Augustine to Descartes, we connect reason with God as its principle, the grand science of metaphysics is founded. But if reason does not rise to God, what will happen? This reason, which proclaims itself superior to matter, is not, as we have said already, the individual thought of Francis, Peter, or John. If an individual presented himself as being reason itself, the absolute reason, and said, "I am the truth," it would be necessary to take one of three courses. If we thought that he spoke truly, and if we received his testimony, it would be necessary to worship him, for he would be God. If it were feared that he spoke truly, and those who so feared were unwilling to acknowledge his rule, it would be necessary for them to kill him in order to endeavor to kill the truth. If it were thought that he spoke falsely, it would be necessary to watch him, and the moment he committed an act dangerous for society, to shut him up, for he would be a madman. But the philosophers make no such pretension. The reason of which they speak is the reason common to all, a reason which is not that of an individual, but that of which all rational individuals partake. This common, universal, eternal reason,--where and how does it exist? Reason manifests itself by ideas, and ideas are the acts of minds. To imagine an idea without a mind of which it is the act, is the same thing as to imagine a movement without a body of which it is also the act, in a different sense. Take away bodies, and there is no more movement. Take away intelligences, and there are no more ideas. The philosopher who speaks of an idea which is not the idea of an intelligence, utters words which have no meaning. The reason which is not that of any created individual remains therefore absolutely inconceivable without the eternal Spirit, or God. Idealism is based upon this impossible conception. Thus it is that thought, trying in vain to maintain itself in this abstract domain, ends by holding as chimerical the world of ideas in which it has met with nothing to which to cling. It is seized with giddiness and falls. Whither does it fall? To the ground. It is always thither one falls. Wearied with its efforts to find footing on shifting clouds, the human mind comes back to the _positive_ by a violent reaction. Here is the secret of that haughty and derisive materialism of certain modern Germans, who jeer and scoff at the lofty pretensions of philosophy. So it was that Hegel brought upon the scene Doctor Büchner and his fellows. The great conflict of the spiritual world is not, as it is often said to be, the combat of idealism against materialism. Idealism begins well, and we must not refuse to acknowledge the services which it has rendered to the cause of truth. But philosophy must follow the road traced out in an ancient adage: _Ab exterioribus ad interiora, ab interioribus ad superiora_.[67] If the mind does not go to the end of this royal road; if idealism, having surmounted the fascinations of the senses, remains in ideas, without ascending to the supreme Mind, the worship of matter and the worship of the idea call mutually one to another, and revolve in a fatal circle. The struggle between these two forms of atheism reminds one of those duels, in which, after having satisfied honor, the adversaries breakfast together, and gather strength to combat, in case of need, a common enemy. The great combat which forms the main subject of the history of ideas is the combat between belief in God and an atheistical philosophy. Whether atheism admits for its first principle an atom without a Creator, or a reason without an Eternal Mind, is a fact very important for the history of philosophy, but the importance of which is small enough in regard to the interests of humanity. We passed the Rhine in order to penetrate into Germany, let us now cross the British Channel, and observe what is going on in England. England, at the close of the seventeenth and the beginning of the eighteenth century, was the principal centre of irreligion. France gave the patent of European circulation to ideas which proceeded in part from this foreign source. An active propaganda for the diffusion of impious and immoral writings had been established in Great Britain. A strong reaction set in, and, dating from the year 1698, we see formed various societies having for their object the diffusion of good books and respectable journals.[68] These efforts were crowned with success. England, by its zeal in the work of Missions, by its sacrifices for the diffusion of the Holy Scriptures, and by its respect for the Lord's-day,[69] assumed[70] the characteristic marks of a Christian nation. Grand measures adopted in the interests of liberty and humanity, placed it at the same time at the head of a seriously philanthropic civilization; but as Père Gratry has remarked, "more than in any other people, there are in the English people the old man and the new."[71] The strange contrasts which are presented by the political action of this double-people are found also in the productions of its thought, in which, while the spirit of piety is displayed full of life, the spirit of irreligion is also manifested with terrible energy. A book is instanced, of materialistic tendency,[72] published in 1828, of which a popular edition was printed with a view to extend the opinions which it advocated. There was sold of this edition, in a short time, more than eighty thousand copies. A thoughtful writer, Mr. Pearson, mentions a statistical statement, according to which English publications, openly atheistical, reached, in the year 1851, a total of six hundred and forty thousand copies.[73] If we pass from the current literature to scientific publications, we shall meet with facts of the same order. The Hegelianism and the scepticism of the critical school are creeping into the works of some theologians. The theories of positivism, reduced to shape in France, have passed the channel, and have obtained in England more attention perhaps than in the country of their origin. They have been adopted by a distinguished author, Mr. Stuart Mill; and a female writer, Miss Martineau, has set them forth, in her mother-tongue, for the use of her fellow-countrymen.[74] Positivism is even in vogue, and has become "_fashionable_" amongst certain literary and intellectual circles in Great Britain.[75] In less elevated regions of the intellectual world of England, an organized sect commends itself to our attention. This sect has given to its system of doctrine the name of _Secularism_. It has a social object--the destruction of the Established Church and the existing political order. It has a philosophy, the purport and bearing of which we will inquire of Mr. Holyoake. The following is the answer of the chief of the secularists:--"All that concerns the origin and end of things, God and the immortal soul, is absolutely impenetrable for the human mind. The existence of God, in particular, must be referred to the number of abstract questions, with the ticket _not determined_. It is probable, however, that the nature which we know, must be the God whom we inquire after. What is called atheism is found _in suspension_ in our theory."[76] The practical consequence of these views is, that all day-dreams relating to another world must be put aside, and we must manage so as to live to the best advantage possible in the present life.[77] Hence the name of the system. _Secularism_ teaches its disciples to have nothing to do with religion in any shape, that they may confine themselves strictly to the present life. It is an attempt of which the express object is to realize life without God. These doctrines formed the subject of public discussions, in London in 1853, and at Glasgow in 1854. The meeting at Glasgow numbered, it is said, more than three thousand persons.[78] The sect employs as its means of action open-air speeches, the publication of books and journals,[79] and assemblies for giving information and holding debates in lecture-rooms. There are five of these lecture-rooms in London. I have seen the programme, for 1864, of the meetings held at No. 12, Cleveland Street, under the direction of Messrs. Holyoake and J. Clark. There are, every Sunday,--a discourse at eleven o'clock, a discussion at three o'clock, a lecture at seven o'clock. The programme invites all free-thinkers to attend these meetings. Some of the assemblies are public; for others a small entrance fee is demanded. London is the principal centre of the association; but it has branches all over the country, and it numbers in Great Britain twenty-one lecture-rooms, particularly at Liverpool, Manchester, Birmingham, Glasgow, and Edinburgh.[80] Secularism naturally seeks to magnify, as much as may be, its own importance; and it is not to the declarations of its apostles that we must refer in order to estimate the extent and influence of its action. At the same time the existence of a society, the avowed object of which is the diffusion of practical atheism, cannot be regarded with indifference. At the present moment the affairs of the sect would not appear to be flourishing. A year ago a secularist orator had delivered a vehement speech in favor of virtue. Just as he had resumed his seat, a policeman entered the room and took him into custody. A few days afterwards the _Times_ informed its readers that the orator of virtue had just been condemned for theft to twelve months' hard labor.[81] In the _Secular World_ of the 1st January, 1864, Mr. Holyoake complains that a great many _mauvais sujets_ seem to seek in secularism a kind of cheap religion. He declares that he is going to use energetic efforts to purify the sect, and seems to intimate that he shall retire if his efforts fail. Let us leave him to wrestle against the invasion of the orators of virtue, and let us pass from England into Italy. While Italy is seeking to deliver itself from the bayonets of Austria, it is threatened with subjection to the influence of the most pernicious German doctrines. After having bent, like nearly all Europe, in the eighteenth century, beneath the blast of sensualism, Italy made a noble effort to renew more generous traditions. Two eminent men, Rosmini and Gioberti, the second especially, succeeded in exciting in the youth of Italy a passionate interest in doctrines in which liberty and vigor of thought were united with the confidence of faith. This intellectual movement preceded and prepared a national movement, the course of which has been precipitated by the intrigues of politics and the intervention of the arms of the foreigner. At the present time the influence of Rosmini and of Gioberti is on the decline. Hegelianism is being installed with a certain _éclat_ in the university of Naples. Nothing warrants us in hoping that this system will not produce upon the shores of the Mediterranean the same depravation of philosophic thought which it has produced in Germany. In the ancient university of Pisa, M. Auguste Conti, a brave defender of Christian philosophy, steadfastly maintains the union of religion and of speculative inquiry,[82] and the centre of Italy is less affected perhaps than the extremities of the Peninsula by the spirit of infidelity. But as we go further north, we encounter in the writings of Ferrari the utterance of a gloomy scepticism, and in those of Ausonio Franchi, formerly a journalist at Turin, and now a Professor at Milan, the manifestations of an almost undisguised atheism. Ausonio Franchi, or rather the man who assumes that pseudonyme, is an ex-priest, who, "while maintaining severely the rule of good morals and the dignity of life,"[83] has turned with violent animosity against his former faith. He exerts some influence over the youth of Italy, and has met with warm admirers in England and Germany. Franchi's profession of faith reduces itself to these very simple terms:--"The world is what it is, and it is _because it is_; any other reason whatever of its essence and of its existence can be nothing but a sophism or an illusion."[84] All inquiry into the origin of things is a pure chimera, and we must therefore limit ourselves to the experience of the present life, and look for nothing beyond it. The author treats with sufficient disdain arguments which satisfied Descartes, Newton, and Leibnitz. It has seemed to me that his understanding, a little obscured by passion, misconceives the true purport of the reasonings which it rejects, and by thus impairing their force, assumes to itself the right to despise them. The religious negations of Ausonio Franchi do not stop at Christian dogma. He denies all value to those higher aspirations of the human soul which constitute _reason_, in the philosophical meaning of the term. Now, this radical negation of the reason is what those Italians who do not scruple to practise it denominate _Rationalism_. And this very unwarrantable use of a word is in fact only a particular case of a general phenomenon. To criticise, means to examine the thoughts which present themselves to the mind in order to distinguish error from truth. The Frenchmen, who call themselves the _critics_, are men who require that the intellect shall make itself the impartial mirror of ideas, but shall renounce the while all discrimination between truth and error. The term scepticism, in its primary signification, contains the idea of inquiring, of examining; and they give the name of _sceptics_ to the philosophers who declare that there is nothing to discover, and consequently nothing to examine, or to search for! One is a _free-thinker_ only on the express condition of renouncing all such free exercise of thought as might lead to the acceptance of beliefs generally received. This is verily the carnival of language, and the _bal masqué_ of words. These corruptions of the meaning of terms are highly instructive. Doctrines contrary to the laws of human nature bear witness in this way to a secret shame in producing themselves under their true colors. Just as hypocrisy is an homage which vice pays to virtue, so these barbarisms are an homage which error pays to truth. To return to Italy: that beautiful and noble country has not escaped the revival of atheism. The intoxication of a new liberty, and the political struggles in which the Papacy is at present engaged, will favor for a time, it may be feared, the development of evil doctrines.[85] But the lively genius of the Italians will not be long in attaching itself again to the grand traditions of its past history; and the inhabitants of the land, whose soil was trodden by Pythagoras and Saint Augustine, will not link themselves with doctrines which always run those who hold them aground sooner or later upon the sad and gloomy shores of a vulgar empiricism. We have not leisure, Gentlemen, to extend our study to all parts of the globe, and besides, there are countries with regard to which information would fail me. Therefore I say nothing of Holland, where we should have, as I know, distressing facts to record. The silence imposed on Spain upon the subjects which we are discussing would render the study of that country a difficult one. I am wanting in data regarding America. Let us conclude our survey by a few words about Russia. If we are warranted in making general assertions in speaking of that immense empire, we may say that the Russian people, taken as a whole, is good and pious, badly instructed, and often the victim of ignorance or of superstition, but disposed to open its heart to elevated and pure influences. The clergy is ignorant, though with honorable and even brilliant exceptions. It is too much cut off from general society, and consigned to a sort of caste, of which it would be most desirable to break down the barriers, in order to allow the influence of the representatives of religion to extend itself more freely. The young nobles, and the university students in general, are, in too large a proportion, imbued with irreligious principles. Various atheistical writings, those of Feuerbach amongst others, have been translated into Russian, printed abroad, and furtively introduced into the empire. M. Herzen, a well-known writer, has published, under the pseudonyme of Iscander, a work full of talent, but in which come plainly into view the worst tendencies of our time.[86] In his eyes, life is itself its own end and cause. Faith in God is the portion of the ignorant crowd, and atheism, like all the high truths of science, like the differential calculus and the laws of physics, is the exclusive possession of the philosophical few. When Robespierre declared atheism aristocratic, he was right in this sense, for atheism is above the reach of the vulgar; but when he concluded that atheism was false, he made a great mistake. This error, which led him to establish the worship of the Supreme Being, was one of the causes of his fall. When he began to follow in the wake of the _conservatives_, as a necessary consequence he would lose his power.[87] The writings of Iscander have exerted a veritable influence in Russia. M. Herzen appears to have lost much of his repute, by the exaggerated and outrageous course he has taken in politics; but it is to be feared that the traces of his action are not altogether effaced. The Russian Empire has been for a long time, in the eyes of the West, only an immense garrison; but now for some years past it has been taking rank among the number of intellectual powers, and nowhere in Europe is the ascending march of civilization displaying itself by signs so striking. The summons to liberty of so many millions of men, which has just been accomplished by the generous initiative of the ruling power, and with the consent of the nation, testifies that that vast social body is animated by the spirit of life and of progress. But in the solemn phase through which she is passing, Russia is exposed to a great danger. She is running the risk of substituting for a national development, drawn from the grand springs of human nature, a factitious civilization, in which would figure together the fashions of Paris, the morals of the _coulisses_ of the Opera, and the most irreligious doctrines of the West. May God preserve her! We have passed in review some of the symptoms of the revival of atheism, and it is impossible not to acknowledge the gravity of the facts which we have established. What must especially awaken solicitude is, that the irreligious manifestations of thought have assumed such a character of generality, that the sorrowful astonishment which they ought to produce in us is blunted by habit. Fashionable reviews, (I allude especially to the French-speaking public), widely-circulated journals which take good care not to violate propriety, and which could not with impunity offend the interests or prejudices of the social class from which their subscribers are recruited, are able to entertain without danger, and without exciting energetic protestations, the productions of an open, or scarcely disguised, atheism. Here are ample reasons for thoughtfulness; but this thoughtfulness must not be mingled with fear. We have to do with a challenge the very audacity of which inspires me with confidence, rather than with dread. In fact all the productions of irreligious philosophy rest on one and the same thought, the common watchword, of the secularism of the English, of the rationalism of the Italians, of the positivism of the French, and which may even be recognized, with a little attention, under the haughty formulas which bear the name of Hegel. And the thought is this: The earth is enough for us, away with heaven; man suffices for himself, away with God; reality suffices for us, away with chimeras! Wisdom consists in contenting ourselves with the world as it is. It is attempted ridiculously enough to place this wisdom under the patronage of the luminaries of our age. We are bidden, forsooth, to see in the negation of the real and living God, a conflict of progress with routine, of science with a blind tradition, of the modern mind with superannuated ideas.[88] We know of old this defiance hurled against the aspirations of the heart, the conscience, and the reason. We know the destined issue of this ancient revolt of the intellect against the laws of its own nature. There were atheists in Palestine in the days when the Psalmist exclaimed, "The fool hath said in his heart, There is no God."[89] There were atheists at Rome when Cicero wrote,[90] that the opinion which recognizes gods appeared to him to come nearest to the resemblance of truth. A poet of the thirteenth century has expressed in a Latin verse the thoughts which are in vogue among a great many of our contemporaries: "He dares nothing great, who believes that there are gods."[91] There were atheists in the seventeenth century, when Descartes exerted himself to confound them, and they reckoned themselves the fine spirits of their time.[92] And who, again, does not know that in the eighteenth century atheism marched with head aloft, and filled the world with its clamors. The attempt to do without God has nothing modern about it, it is met with at all epochs. The means employed now-a-days to attain this end have nothing new about them. Atheism exhibits itself in history with the characters of a chronic malady, the outbreaks of which are transient crises. The moment the negation is blazoned openly, humanity protests. Why? Because man will never be persuaded to content himself with the earth, and with what the earth can give him: his nature absolutely forbids it. When we compare the reality with the desires of our souls, we can all say with the aged patriarch Jacob: "Few and evil have been the days of my pilgrimage;"[93] we can all say with Lamartine: Though all the good desired of man In one sole heart should overflow, Death, bounding still his mortal span, Would turn the cup of joy to woe.[94] And it is not the heart only which is concerned here; without God man remains inexplicable to his own reason. The spiritual creature of the Almighty, free by the act of creation, and capable of falling into slavery by rebellion,--he understands his nature and his destiny; but it is in vain that the apostles of matter and the worshippers of humanity harangue him in turn to explain to him his own existence. Man is too great to be the child of the dust; man is too miserable to be the divine summit of the universe. "If he exalts himself, I abase him; if he abases himself, I exalt him; and I contradict him continually, until he understands at last that he is an incomprehensible monster."[95] "The proper study of mankind is man;" and man remains an enigma for man, if he do not rise to God. So it is that our very nature is a living protest against atheism, and never allows its triumphs to be either general, or of long duration. A solid limit is thus set to our wanderings; and, to the errors of the understanding, as to the tides of the ocean, the Master of things has said, "Ye shall go no further." Therefore atheists may become famous, but, destitute of the ray which renders truly illustrious, humanity refuses them the aureole with which it encircles the brows of its benefactors. This aureole it reserves for the sages which lead it to God, for the artists which reveal to it some of the rays of the immortal light, for all those who remind it of the titles of its dignity, the pledges of its future, the sacred laws of the realm of spirits. Humanity desires to live; and to live it must believe; for it must believe in order to love and to act. Atheism is a crisis in a disease, a passing swoon over which the vital forces of nature triumph. Now the vital forces of humanity are neither extinct nor stupefied in our time. The world of literature is sick, and grievously sick in some of its departments; but even there again are manifesting themselves noble and powerful reactions. Then look in other directions. Contemplate the religious movement of society at large, the wide efforts making in the domain of active beneficence, the progressive conquests of civilization, the awakening of conscience on many subjects:--I could easily instance numerous facts in proof of what I advance, and say to you: Know, by these speaking signs, a God to-day As yesterday the same--the same for aye: Veiling, revealing, at His sovereign will, His glory,--and His people guarding still.[96] Wrestle then against the invasion of deadly doctrines, wrestle and do not fear. If men rise against God in the name of the modern mind, of the science of the age, of the progress of civilization, do not suffer yourselves to be stunned by these clamors. Let the past be to you the pledge of the future! To make of atheism a novelty, is an error. To make of it, in a general way, the characteristic of our epoch, is a calumny. FOOTNOTES: [40] Xenophon, _Memorab. of Socrates_, Bk. iv. 10. [41] _La Religion naturelle_. Preface. [42] Emile Saisset, in the _Revue des Deux Mondes_, of March, 1845. [43] See the _Lettres sur les vérités, les plus importantes de la révélation_, by Albert de Haller, translated into French by one of his grandsons. Lausanne, Bridel, 1846. [44] _La Métaphysique et la Science_, 2 tom. Oct. 1858. [45] _Notice sur M. Littré_, page 57. [46] _Paroles de philosophie positive_, page 33. [47] _Idem_, page 30. [48] _Paroles de philosophie positive_, page 34. [49] _Aperçus généraux sur la doctrine positiviste_, par M. de Lombrail, ancien élève de l'école polytechnique. The author says in his preface: "Auguste Comte examined this work with the conscientious attention which he was accustomed to give to the simplest task. He desired by his useful counsels to render it worthy of publication." [50] _Revue des Deux Mondes_, of 15th Jan. 1860, page 367. [51] Je soupçonne entre nous que vous croyez en Dieu. N'allez pas dans vos vers en consigner l'aveu; Craignez le ridicule, et respectez vos maîtres. Croire en Dieu fut un tort permis à nos ancêtres. Mais dans notre âge! Allons, il faut vous corriger _Et suivre votre siècle_, au lieu de le juger. [52] Entre ces deux chemins j'hésite et je m'arrête. Je voudrais à l'écart suivre un plus doux sentier. Il n'en existe pas, dit une voix secrète: En présence du Ciel, il faut croire ou nier. Je le pense, en effet: les âmes tourmentées Vers l'un et l'autre excès se portent tour à tour; Mais les indifférents ne sont que des athées; Ils ne dormiraient plus, s'ils doutaient un seul jour. [53] See, for example, _La Religion naturelle_, by Jules Simon; _Essai de philosophie religieuse_, by Emile Saisset; _De la connaissance de Dieu_, by A. Gratry; _La raison et la christianisme, douze lectures sur l'existence de Dieu_, by Charles Secrétan; _Essai sur la Providence_, by Ernest Bersot; _De la Providence_, by M. Damiron; _L'Idée de Dieu_, by M. Caro; _Théodicée, Etudes sur Dieu, la Création et la Providence_, par Amédée de Magerie. [54] See, for example, the _Etudes orientales_ of M. Franck, the _Bouddha_ of M. Barthélemy Saint-Hilaire; _L'Histoire de la philosophie au XVIIIe siécle_, of M. Damiron. [55] _Philosophie de la liberté_, vol. i. p. 225. [56] _Toutes ces révoltes de la matière en furie._ [57] _Revue des Deux Mondes_, April, 1850. [58] _Qu'est-ce la religion?_ page 586 of the translation of Ewerbeck. [59] _Revue des Deux Mondes_ of 15th April, 1850, p. 288. [60] General Report addressed to the _Conseil d'Etat_ of Neuchâtel on the secret German propaganda, and on the clubs of Young Germany in Switzerland, by Lardy, Doctor of law. Neuchâtel, 1845. [61] _Pourvu qu'on le délivre d'une vertu bourgeoise et d'une morale d'honnêtes négociants_. Blätter der Gegenwart für sociales Leben. [62] See the _Chroniqueur Suisse_ of 19 Jan. 1865. [63] April, 1850, p. 292. [64] _Force et Matière_, by Louis Büchner, Doctor in medicine: translated into French from the seventh edition of the German work, by Gamper, Leipzig, 1863. [65] My object is to point out the atheistical systems which are being produced in various parts of Europe, and not to estimate, in a general way, the tendency of contemporary philosophies. The reader, who would understand the position occupied by materialism in relation to German thought in general, may consult with advantage, _Le Matérialisme contemporain_, by Paul Janet, Paris, 1864; and the review of this work by M. Reichlin-Meldegg (_Zeitschrift für Philosophie_, Sechsundvierzigster Band). A Swiss writer, M. Böhner, has lately published a learned work on the subject entitled: _Le Matérialisme au point de vue des sciences naturelles et des progrès de l'esprit humain_, by Nath. Böhner, member of the _Société helvétique des sciences naturelles_, translated from the German, by O. Bourrit, 1 vol. 8vo. (_Genève, imprimerie Fick_), 1861. [66] ... Ces enfants de l'effroi, Ces beaux riens qu'on adore, et sans savoir pourquoi, Ces dieux que l'homme a faits et qui n'ont pas fait l'homme. CYRANO DE BERGERAC. [67] From outer to inner things, and from inner to higher. [68] See the Report of Mr. H. Roberts, in the _Comptes rendus du Congrès international de bienfaisance de Londres_, vol. ii. page 95, and the 23rd _Bulletin de la Société genevoise d'utilité publique_, 1863. [69] Par son respect pour le jour du Dimanche. [70] revêtit. [71] _La Paix méditations historiques et religieuses_, par A. Gratry, prêtre de l'Oratoire.--Septième méditation: l'Angleterre. [72] _The Constitution of Man_, by G. Combe. The popular edition was printed at the expense of Mr. Henderson. [73] _Infidelity: its aspects, causes, and agencies_, by Thomas Pearson. People's edition, 1854, page 263. [74] _Auguste Comte et la Philosophie positive_, par E. Littré, page 276. [75] "Positivism, within the last quarter of a century, has become an active, and even fashionable mode of thought, and nowhere more so than amongst certain literary and intellectual circles in England." _The Christ of the Gospels and the Christ of modern Criticism, Lectures on M. Renan's 'Vie de Jésus,'_--by John Tulloch, D.D., Principal of the College of St. Mary in the University of St. Andrew. Macmillan and Co., 1864. [76] See Pearson: _Infidelity_, particularly page 316, and _Christianity and Secularism, the public discussion_--, particularly page 8. [77]--_dans le siècle_. [78] Vapereau's _Dictionnaire des contemporains_--Art. HOLYOAKE. [79] I have had in view here the first numbers of _The Secular World_, and of _The National Reformer, Secular Advocate_, for 1864. [80] _The National Reformer_ of 2nd Jan. 1864. [81] MS. information. [82] Readers unacquainted with the Italian language will find a compendious exposition of M. Conti's philosophy, in a small volume published, in 1863, under the title of _Le Camposanto de Pise ou le Scepticisme_. (Paris, librairies Joël Cherbuliez et Auguste Durand; I vol. in-18.) [83] Such is the testimony rendered to him by M. Aug. Conti in his work, _La Philosophie italienne_. (Paris, Joël Cherbuliez et Auguste Durand; one small vol. 18mo.) [84] _Le Rationalisme_ (in French), published with an introduction, by M. D. Bancel, Brussels, 1858, page 27. [85] The learned author appears to intimate that the distractions of the Papacy, consequent on its political struggles for temporal power, hinder the salutary influence which it might otherwise exercise in the suppression of evil doctrines. The Translator feels it due to himself to state here, once for all, that he has no sympathy whatever with such a view of the influence of the Papacy. On the contrary, he is disposed to attribute to the Church of Rome most of the evils which afflict, not Italy only, but all the countries over which she has any power. Perhaps, having "felt the weight of too much liberty" in his own Church, the excellent author, fundamentally sound in his own views of Christian doctrine, as is proved abundantly by his writings, has been led by a natural reaction to give too much weight to the opposite principle of authority. The concluding pages of his former work, _La Vie Eternelle_, indicate a mind too painfully and sensitively averse to all controversy with a corrupt Church, in consideration of the acknowledged excellences of many of her individual members,--her Pascals, Fénélons, Martin Boos, Girards, Gratrys, and Lacordaires.--_Translator_. [86] _De l'autre rive_ (in Russian). [87] _De l'autre rive_. v. Consolatio.--This chapter is a dialogue between a lady and a doctor. I have considered the doctor as expressing the thoughts of the writer. The form of dialogue, however, always allows an author to express his thoughts, while declining, if need be, the responsibility of them. [88] _Le Rationalisme_, par Ausonio Franchi, page 19.--_Force et matière_, par le docteur Büchner, page 262.--_Paroles de philosophie positive_, par Littré, page 36.--_La Métaphysique et la Science_, par Vacherot, page xiv. (Première edition.) [89] Ps. xiv. 1. [90] De Naturâ Deorum. [91] Nil audet magnum qui putat esse Deos. [92] See Bossuet: _Sermon sur la dignité de la religion_. [93] Gen. xlvii. 9. [94] Quand tous les biens que l'homme envie Déborderaient dans un seul coeur, La mort seule au bout de la vie Fait un supplice du bonheur. [95] Pascal. [96] Reconnaissez, _Messieurs_, à ces traits éclatants, Un Dieu tel aujourd'hui qu'il fut dans tous les temps. Il sait, quand il lui plaît, faire éclater sa gloire, Et son peuple est toujours présent à sa mémoire. LECTURE IV. _NATURE._ (At Geneva, 27th Nov. 1863.--At Lausanne, 25th Jan. 1864.) GENTLEMEN, The thoughts of man are numberless; and still, in their indefinite variety, they never relate but to one or another of these three objects: nature, or the world of material substances, which are revealed to our senses; created spirits, similar or superior to that spirit which is ourselves; and finally God, the Infinite Being, the universal Creator. Therefore there are two sorts of atheism, and there are only two. The mind stops at nature, and endeavors to find in material substances the universal principle of existence; or, rising above nature, the mind stops at humanity, without ascending to the Infinite Mind, to the Creator. We have seen how clearly these two doctrines appear in contemporary literature. We have now to enter upon the examination of them, and this will afford us matter for two lectures. The word nature has various meanings; we employ it here to designate matter, and the forces which set it in motion, those forces being conceived as blind and fatal, in opposition to the conscious and free force which constitutes mind. Matter and the laws of motion are the object of mechanics, of chemistry, and of physics. Do these sciences suffice for resolving the universal enigma? Such is precisely the question which offers itself to our examination. Let us first of all determine what, in presence of the spectacle of the universe, is the natural movement of human thought, when human thought possesses the idea of God. I open a book trivial enough in its form, but occasionally profound in its contents: the _Journey round my room_, of Xavier de Maistre. The author is relating how he had undertaken to make an artificial dove which was to sustain itself in the air by means of an ingenious mechanism. I read: "I had wrought unceasingly at its construction for more than three months. The day was come for the trial. I placed it on the edge of a table, after having carefully closed the door, in order to keep the discovery secret, and to give my friends a pleasing surprise. A thread held the mechanism motionless. Who can conceive the palpitations of my heart, and the agonies of my self-love, when I brought the scissors near to cut the fatal bond?--Zest!--the spring of the dove starts, and begins to unroll itself with a noise. I lift my eyes to see the bird pass; but, after making a few turns over and over, it falls, and goes off to hide itself under the table. Rosine (my dog), who was sleeping there, moves ruefully away. Rosine, who never sees a chicken, or a pigeon, or the smallest bird, without attacking and pursuing it, did not deign even to look at my dove which was floundering on the floor. This gave the finishing stroke to my self-esteem. I went to take an airing on the ramparts. "I was walking up and down, sad and out of spirits as one always is after a great hope disappointed, when, raising my eyes, I perceived a flight of cranes passing over my head. I stopped to have a good look at them. They were advancing in triangular order, like the English column at the battle of Fontenoy. I saw them traverse the sky from cloud to cloud.--Ah! how well they fly, said I to myself. With what assurance they seem to glide along the viewless path which they follow.--Shall I confess it? alas! may I be forgiven! the horrible feeling of envy for once, once only, entered my heart, and it was for the cranes. I pursued them, with jealous gaze, to the boundaries of the horizon. For a long while afterwards, motionless in the midst of the crowd which was moving about me, I kept observing the rapid movement of the swallows, and I was astonished to see them suspended in the air, just as if I had never before seen that phenomenon. A feeling of profound admiration, unknown to me till then, lighted up my soul. I seemed to myself to be looking upon nature for the first time. I heard with surprise the buzzing of the flies, the song of the birds, and that mysterious and confused noise of the living creation which involuntarily celebrates its Author. Ineffable concert, to which man alone has the sublime privilege of adding the accents of gratitude! Who is the author of this brilliant mechanism? I exclaimed in the transport which animated me. Who is He that, opening his creative hand, let fly the first swallow into the air? It is He who gave commandment to these trees to come forth from the ground, and to lift their branches toward the sky!" Here is a charming page, and containing, though apparently trivial in style, a good and sound philosophy. Let us translate this delightful description into the heavier language of science. The intellect is one of the things with which we are best acquainted; logic is the science of thought, and logic is perhaps, among all the sciences, the one best settled on its bases. The intellect discovers itself to us in the exercise of our activity. We pursue an object, we combine the means for attaining it, and it is the intellect which operates this combination. What happens if we compare the results of our activity with the results of the power manifested in the world? When we consider in their vast _ensemble_ the means of which nature disposes, when we remark the infinite number of the relations of things, the marvellous harmony of which universal life is the produce, we are dazzled by the splendor of a wisdom which surpasses our own as much as boundless space surpasses the imperceptible spot which we occupy upon the earth. Think of this: the science of nature is so vast that the least of its departments suffices to absorb one human lifetime. All our sciences are only in their very beginning; they are spelling out the first lines of an immense book. The elements of the universe are numberless; and yet, notwithstanding, all hangs together; all things are linked one to another in the closest connection. The _savants_ therefore find themselves in a strange embarrassment. They are obliged to circumscribe more and more the field of their researches, on pain of losing themselves in an endless study; and, on the other hand, in proportion as science advances, the mutual relation of all its branches becomes so manifest that it is ever more and more clearly seen that, in order to know any one thing thoroughly, it would be necessary to know all. It needs not that we seek very high or very far away for occasions of astonishment: the least of the objects which nature presents to our view contains abysses of wisdom. The acquired results of science appear simple through the effect of habit. The sun rises every day; who is still surprised at its rising? The solar system has been known a long while; it is taught in the humblest schools, and no longer surprises any one. But those who found out, after long efforts, what we learn without trouble, the discoverers, reckoned their discoveries very surprising. Kepler, one of the founders of modern astronomy, in the book to which he consigned his immortal discoveries, exclaims:[97] "The wisdom of the Lord is infinite, as are also His glory and His power. Ye heavens! sing His praises. Sun, moon, and planets, glorify Him in your ineffable language! Praise Him, celestial harmonies, and all ye who can comprehend them! And thou, my soul, praise thy Creator! It is by Him, and in Him, that all exists. What we know not is contained in Him as well as our vain science. To Him be praise, honor, and glory for ever and ever!" These words, Gentlemen, have not been copied from a book of the Church; they are read in a work which, as all allow, is one of the foundations of modern science. I pass on to another example, and I continue to keep you in good and high company. Newton set forth his discoveries in a large volume all bristling with figures and calculations.[98] The work of the mathematician ended, the author rises, by the consideration of the mutual interchange of the light of all the stars, to the idea of the unity of the creation; then he adds, and it is the conclusion of his entire work: "The Master of the heavens governs all things, not as being the soul of the world, but as being the Sovereign of the universe. It is on account of His sovereignty that we call Him the Sovereign God. He governs all things, those which are, and those which may be. He is the one God, and the same God, everywhere and always. We admire Him because of His perfections, we reverence and adore Him because of His sovereignty. A God without sovereignty, without providence, and without object in His works, would be only destiny or nature. Now, from a blind metaphysical necessity, everywhere and always the same, could arise no variety; all that diversity of created things according to places and times (which constitutes the order and life of the universe) could only have been produced by the thought and will of a Being who is _the Being_, existing by Himself, and necessarily." Here, Sirs, are noble thoughts, expressed in noble style. I recommend you to read throughout the pages from which I have quoted a few fragments. Let us now analyze the ideas of this great astronomer as thus expounded. We may note these three affirmations: 1. The universe displays an admirable order which reveals the wisdom of the Power which governs it. 2. The universe lives; it is not fixed, and its variations suppose an intelligent Power which directs it. 3. The variable existence of the universe shows that it is not necessary; it must have its cause in a Being who is _the_ Being, necessarily, by His proper nature. Such are the views of Newton. Examine this course of thought, and see if it is not natural. Observation reveals to us facts. Facts in themselves, isolated facts, are nothing for the mind; but in the facts of nature, human reason discovers an order, and in that order it recognizes its own proper laws. To keep within the domain of astronomy--there is harmony between our mind and the course of the stars. If you have any doubt about this, I appeal to the almanac. We there find it stated that in such a month, on such a day, at such an hour, there will be an eclipse of the sun or of the moon. How comes the editor of the almanac to know that? He has learnt it from the savants who have succeeded in explaining the phenomena of the skies. The savant therefore can in his study meet with the intelligence which directs the universe. If he makes no mistake in his calculations, the eclipse begins at the precise hour which he has indicated. If the eclipse did not take place at the instant foreseen, no one would suspect Nature of not following the course prescribed by the directing intelligence; the inference would be that there had been a fault in observation, or an error of figures on the part of the astronomer. When science, then, does its part well, the mind of man encounters another mind which is governing the world and maintaining it in order. The special science of nature stops there, as we shall explain further on; but this is not all that man requires, when he makes use of all his faculties. All is passing and changing in the domain of experience; and reason seeks instinctively the cause of changeable facts in an unchangeable Being, the cause of transient phenomena in an eternal Being. Nature, therefore, does not suffice to account to us for itself. It demands a power to direct it, an intelligence to regulate it; an absolute eternal Being as its cause. This is what reason imperatively requires; and when we possess the idea of God, nature reveals to us His power and His wisdom. This is an old argument, and they call it commonplace. It is commonplace, in fact; it has appeared over and over again in the discourses of Socrates, in the writings of Galen, of Kepler, of Newton, of Linnæus. Yes, this argument has fallen so low as to be public property, if we can say that truth falls when it shines with a splendor vivid enough to enlighten the masses. If I desired to bring together here the testimony of all the savants who have seen God in nature, the song of all the poets who have celebrated the glory of the Eternal as manifested by the creation, the enumeration would be long, and I should soon tire out your patience. You can understand therefore that if there are, as the misanthrope Rousseau says there are, philosophers who hold in such contempt vulgar opinions that they prefer error of their own discovery to truth found out by other people, then the ancient argument, which infers the wisdom of the Creator from the order of the creation, must be the object of but small esteem with them. Still I for my part take this old argument for a good one, and I mean to defend it. Nature is verily and indeed a marvel placed before the observation of our minds. The growth of a blade of grass, the habits of an ant, contain for an attentive observer prodigies of wisdom. A drop of dew reflecting the beams of morning, the play of light among the leaves of a tree, reveal to the poet and the artist treasures of poetry. But too often, blinded by habit, we are unable to see; and when our mind is asleep, it seems to us that the universe slumbers. A sudden flash of light can sometimes arouse us from this lethargy. If science all at once delivers up to us some one of those grand laws which reveal in thousands of phenomena the traces of one and the same mind, the astonishment of our intellect excites in our soul an emotion of adoration. When the first rays of morning light up with a pure brightness the lofty summits of our Alps; when the sun at his setting stretches a path of fire along the waters of our lake, who does not feel impelled to render glory to the supreme Artist? When dark cold fogs rest upon our valleys at the decline of autumn, it only needs sometimes to climb the mountain-side, in order to issue all at once from the gloomy region, and see the chain of high peaks, resplendent with light, mark themselves out upon a sky of incomparable blue. Often have I given myself the delight of this grand spectacle, and always at such a time my heart has uttered spontaneously from its depths that hymn of adoration: Tout l'univers est plein de sa magnificence. Qu'on l'adore, ce Dieu, qu'on l'invoque à jamais![99] Such is, in the presence of nature, the spontaneous movement of the heart and of the reason. But a false wisdom obscures these clear verities by clouds of sophisms. When your heart feels impelled to render glory to God, there is danger lest importunate thoughts rise in your mind and counteract the impulse of your adoration. Perhaps you have heard it said, perhaps you have read, that the accents of spiritual song, those echoes, growing ever weaker, of by-gone ages, are no longer heard by a mind enlightened by modern science. I should wish to deliver you from this painful doubt. I should wish to protect you from the fascinations of a false science. I should wish that in the view of nature, even those who have as yet no wish to adore, with St. Paul, Him whose invisible perfections are clearly seen when we contemplate His works, may at least feel themselves free to admire, with Socrates, "the supreme God who maintains the works of creation in the flower of youth and in a vigor ever new." Let us examine a few of the prejudices which it is sought to disseminate, in order to deprive of their force the reasonings of Newton, and to turn us from the opinions of Kepler. It is said that science leads away from God, and that faith continues to be the lot only of the ignorant. Listen on this head first of all to the Italian Franchi. "The class of society in which infidels and sceptics especially abound is that of savants and men of letters,--men, in short, who have gone through studies, in the course of which they have certainly become acquainted with the famous demonstrations of the existence of God. But no sooner have they examined them with their own eyes, and submitted them to the criterion of their own judgment, than these demonstrations no longer demonstrate anything; these reasonings turn out to be only paralogisms."[100] Here we have the thesis in its general form: to become an infidel or a sceptic, it is enough to be a well educated man. The German Büchner will now show us the application of this notion to the special study of nature. "At this day, our hardest laborers in the sciences, our most indefatigable students of nature, profess materialistic sentiments."[101] The same tendencies are often manifested among French writers. The author of a recent astronomical treatise, for example, draws a veil of deceitful words over the profound faith of Kepler, and takes evident pleasure in throwing into relief the tokens of sympathy bestowed unfortunately by the learned Laplace upon atheism.[102] Here then we have open attempts to found a prejudice against religion on the authority of science; and these attempts disturb the minds of not a few. I ask two questions on this head. Is it true, in fact, that modern naturalists are generally irreligious? Is it possible that the science of nature, rightly considered, should lead to atheism?[103] Let us begin with the question of fact; and first of all let us settle clearly the bearing and object of this discussion. I wish to destroy a prejudice, and not to create one. I am not proposing to you to take the votes of savants, in order to know whether God exists. No. Though all the universities in Europe should unite to vote it dark at mid-day, I should not cease on that account to believe in the sun, and that, Gentlemen, in common with you all, and with the mass of my fellow-men. I have instituted a sort of inquiry in order to ascertain whether modern naturalists have in general been led to atheistical sentiments, as some would have us believe. In appealing to the recollections of my own earlier studies and subsequent reading, I have marked the names of the men best known in the various sciences, and I have inquired what religious opinions they may have publicly manifested. I will now give you briefly the result of my labor. I have left astronomy out of the question, considering that, notwithstanding the great notoriety of Laplace, we have in Kepler and Newton a weight of authority sufficient to counterbalance that which it is desired to connect with his name. Descending to the earth, we encounter first of all the general science of our globe, or geography. In this order of studies a German, Ritter, enjoys an incontestable preeminence. He is called, even in France, the "creator of scientific geography." Scientific geography rests for support on nearly all the sciences: it proceeds from the general results of chemistry, physics, and geology. Had then the vast knowledge of Ritter turned him away from God? I had read somewhere[104] that he was one of those savants who have best realized the union of science and faith. One of my friends who was personally acquainted with him has described him to me, not only as a man who adored the Creator in the view of the creation, but as an amiable and zealous Christian, who exerted himself to communicate to others his own convictions. From the general study of the globe, let us pass to that of the organized beings which people its surface. Does botany teach the human mind to dispense with God? Let us listen to Linnæus. I open the _System of Nature_,[105] and on the reverse of the title-page I read: "O Lord, how manifold are Thy works! in wisdom hast Thou made them all: the earth is full of Thy riches."[106] I turn over a few leaves, and I meet with a table which comprises, under the title, _Empire of Nature_, the general classification of beings. The commencement is as follows: "Eternal God, all-wise and almighty! I have seen Him as it were pass before me, and I remained confounded. I have discovered some traces of His footsteps in the works of the creation; and in those works, even in the least, even in those which seem most insignificant, what might! what wisdom! what inexplicable perfection!--If thou call Him _Destiny_, thou art not mistaken, it is He upon whom all depends. If thou call Him _Nature_, thou art not mistaken, it is He from whom all takes its origin. If thou call Him _Providence_, thou speakest truly; it is by His counsel that the universe subsists." Another great naturalist, George Cuvier, takes care to point out that "Linnæus used to seize with marked pleasure the numerous occasions which natural history offered him of making known the wisdom of Providence."[107] Thus modern botany was founded in a spirit of piety. Has it, at a later period, made any discoveries calculated to efface from the life of vegetables the marks of Divine intelligence? Allow me to introduce here a personal _souvenir_. I received lessons in my youth from an old man, who, having once been the teacher of De Candolle, remained his friend.[108] By a rather strange academical arrangement, M. Vaucher found himself set to teach us--not botany, for which he possessed both taste and genius,[109] but a science of which he knew but little, and which he liked still less. So it came to pass that a good part of the hour of lecture was often filled up with familiar conversations. These conversations took us far away from church history, which we were supposed to be learning. The misplaced botanist reverted, by a natural impulse, to his much-loved science; and I have seen him shed tears of tender emotion, in his Professor's chair, as he spoke to us of the God who made the primrose of the spring, and concealed the violet under the hedge by the wayside. Therefore is the recollection of that old man not only living in my memory, but also dear to my heart. Still he was a savant, an enthusiastic naturalist; and, in the broad light of the nineteenth century, he felt and spoke like Linnæus. Let us pass to the study of animals. I had the wish, some years ago, to procure the best of modern treatises upon physiology. I was directed to the work of Professor Müller, of Berlin. This book has not lost its value,--for, this very morning, a student of our faculty of sciences came to me to borrow it, by the advice of his masters. Müller was a great physiologist, and he made an open profession of the Christian religion. Have we not the right to conclude that he believed in God? In France, I could cite more than one name in support of my thesis; I confine myself to a single fact. The attention of the scientific world has very recently been occupied with the discoveries of M. Pasteur. M. Pasteur has ascertained that the decomposition of organized bodies, after death, is effected by the action of small animals almost imperceptible, the germs of which the larger animals carry in themselves, as living preparatives for their interment. The design of Providence reveals itself to his understanding, and he writes: "The immediate elements of living bodies would be in a manner indestructible, if from the beings which God has created were taken away the smallest, and, in appearance, the most useless. Life would thus become impossible, because the return to the atmosphere and to the mineral kingdom of all that has ceased to live would be all at once suspended."[110] In other words: I have studied facts hitherto incompletely observed, and my study has revealed to me a new manifestation of that Divine wisdom of which the universe bears the impression. England possesses a naturalist of the first order, whom his fellow-countrymen take a pleasure in comparing to George Cuvier--Professor Owen. This savant lectured, a few months ago, before a numerous auditory, on the relations of religion and natural science.[111] He is fully possessed of all the information which the times afford,--is not ignorant of modern discoveries,--is, in fact, one of the princes of contemporary science. Well, Gentlemen, Mr. Owen repeats, with reference to animals, what Newton was led to say by his contemplation of the heavens, and Linnæus by his study of the plants. He is not afraid to admire with Galen the marvellous wisdom which presided over the organization of living bodies. His discourse is entitled, _The Power of God in His Animal Creation_. The more we understand, he says, the more we admire, the more we adore. He pauses in view of the marvellous productions of nature, beside which the most delicate works of human industry appear, beneath the microscope, but coarse, rough hewings; he compares our most highly finished machines to the living machines made by the hand of God, and infers that, not to discern intelligence in the relation of means to ends, necessarily implies in the mind a defect similar to that of eyes which are unable to distinguish colors. Mr. Owen declares that such a state of mind and feeling in a naturalist may provoke blame from some and pity from others, and remains for him, so far as he is concerned, absolutely incomprehensible. Again, do the most learned chemists find in the study of the elements of matter a revelation of atheism? M. Liebig, I have been told, is one of the first chemists of our epoch. He believed he had discovered an application of chemistry to agriculture, the effect of which would be to furnish a remedy to the exhaustion of the soil. His discovery turned out false, and a more attentive study of his subject led him to ascertain that the object which he was pursuing was actually realized by Divine Providence in a way of which he had had no suspicion. The following is his own account of this, published in 1862: "After having submitted all the facts to a new and very searching examination, I discovered the cause of my error. I had sinned against the wisdom of the Creator, and I had received my just punishment. I was wishing to perfect His work, and, in my blindness, I thought that in the admirable chain of laws which preside over life at the surface of the earth, and maintain it ever in freshness, there was wanting a link which I, feeble and impotent worm, was to supply. Provision had been made for this beforehand, but in a way so wonderful, that the possibility of such a law had not so much as dawned upon the human understanding."[112] Here is a confession very noble in its humility; and to this chemist, who thus renders glory to God, no one of his colleagues could say: "If you had as much science as we, you would say no more about the wisdom of the Creator." Let us pass on to natural philosophers. I have taken a special interest in this part of my inquiry, because I had read in the productions of a literary man of Paris, that modern physics have placed those at fault who defend the doctrine of the living and true God. I inquired accordingly of a man, very well able to give me the information, whether there exists in Europe a natural philosopher holding a position of quite exceptional distinction. I received for reply: "You may say boldly that, by the unanimous consent of men of science, Mr. Faraday, in regard both to the greatness and range of his discoveries, is the first natural philosopher living." After having thus made myself sure, therefore, on this point, I took the liberty of writing to Mr. Faraday the following letter: "GENEVA, 30th October, 1863. "SIR, "I have the intention of commencing shortly, at Geneva, and for an auditory of men, a course of lectures designed to combat the manifestations of contemporary atheism. To this deplorable error I desire to oppose faith in God, as it has been given to the world by the Gospel, faith in the Heavenly Father. "One of my lectures will be specially devoted to the removal of prejudices against religion which have their origin in natural science. It is said very often, and very boldly, that modern physics and modern chemistry demonstrate the unfounded character of religious beliefs. These theses are maintained at Geneva as elsewhere. I should wish to reply that natural science does not of itself turn men from God, and that without being able to give faith, it confirms the faith of those who believe: this I should wish to establish by citing names invested, in science, with an incontestable and solid renown. Will you, Sir, authorize me to make use of your name?" Mr. Faraday, in reply, sent me the following letter, dated 6th Nov. 1863. "SIR, ...."You have a full right to make use of my name: for although I generally avoid mixing up things sacred and things profane, I have, on one occasion, written and published a passage which accords to you this right, and which I maintain. I send you a copy of it. I hope you will find nothing in any other part of my researches, to contradict or weaken in any way whatever the sense of this passage. "I beg you to transmit my best remembrances to my friend M. de la Rive...." The passage thus indicated establishes a line of demarcation, very strongly (perhaps too strongly) drawn between researches of the reason and the domain of religious truth, and contains a profession of positive faith in Revelation. The author affirms that he has never recognized any incompatibility between science and faith, and makes the following declaration: "Even in earthly matters I reckon that 'the invisible things of God from the creation of the world are clearly seen, being understood by the things that are made, even his eternal power and Godhead.'" A literary man of Paris declares to us that natural science leads away from God: one of the first savants of our time informs us that the scientific contemplation of nature renders the wisdom of God manifest. The question is one of fact. To whom shall we give our confidence? For my part, since it is natural philosophy which is in question, I rank myself on the side of the Natural Philosopher. We will here terminate this review. It is time, however, which fails us, not subject-matter, for continuing it. You may have noticed that the name of no one of the savants of Switzerland figures in this inquiry. Nevertheless our country would have furnished a rich mine for my purpose. It contains (and it is one of its best privileges) a goodly number of savants, whom the observation of the facts of matter have not caused to forget the claims of mind, and who know how to raise their souls to the Author of the marvels which they study. You will understand therefore that it has not been from anxiety for my cause, but from a motive of discretion, that I have forborne to bring into this discussion the names of men in whom we have a near interest, and many of whom perhaps are present in this assembly. I will take advantage of Mr. Faraday's letter to make a single exception, by naming M. de la Rive. More than once, and in public, we have heard him distinctly point out the place occupied by the sciences of mind in relation to the natural sciences, and render glory to the Creator. And I do not think that any one, in Switzerland or elsewhere, can claim to speak with disdain, in the name of the physical sciences, of the religious convictions boldly professed by our learned fellow-countryman.[113] Recollect, Gentlemen, that I have not undertaken to prove the existence of God, by making appeal to the authority of men of science. All I have sought to do has been to destroy a prejudice. They tell us, and scream it at us, that the best naturalists become atheists. This is not true, as I think I have shown. There do exist atheists who cultivate the natural sciences,--no doubt of the fact. But even though half the whole number of naturalists were atheists, inasmuch as other naturalists, and those some of the greatest, find in their studies new motives to adoration, we are forced to the conclusion, that the true cause why these savants repudiate religion has nothing to do with their science. We shall come to be more strongly confirmed in this opinion, if we pass now from the question of fact to considerations of sound reason. The weakness of the human mind leads it to forget the facts with which it is not occupied. All special culture of the intellect risks consequently the paralyzing a part of our faculties. Hegel, lost in abstractions, persuades himself that he will be able to construct by pure reasoning the history of nature and that of the human race. A geometrician, who no longer saw in the world anything but theorems and demonstrations, asked, after the representation of a dramatic masterpiece, "And what does that prove?" A physiologist absorbed in the study of sensible phenomena says: "Where is that soul they talk of? I have never seen it." These are phenomena of the same order. This infirmity of the mind, which leads certain savants to think that the ordinary subject of their studies is everything, must not be imputed to science. A man accustomed to the exclusive observation of material phenomena, may become a materialist by the effect of his mental habits, and this really happens, in fact, in too many instances; but the study in itself is not responsible for this result. Let us endeavor to prove this, by clearly defining the object of the natural sciences. When the matter of a phenomenon is given to us, the understanding proposes to itself three questions: 1. How does the fact manifest itself? what is the mode of its existence? The answer gives us the law of the phenomenon. Bodies fall to the ground at a determined rate of speed: the determination of this rate is the law of their fall. 2. What is the real effective power which produces the phenomenon? This is the inquiry after the cause. 3. What is the intention which presided at the production of the phenomenon? This is the search after the object, which philosophers call the final cause. What we call understanding or explaining a fact, is answering these three questions; it is finding the law, the cause, the end. This analysis was made by Aristotle, and seems to have been well made. The science of nature, as it is conceived by the moderns, does not undertake to satisfy entirely the desires of the human mind. It confines itself to the first question; it classes phenomena; it then seeks their law; arrived at this, it stops. The cause and design of things remain out of the sphere of its investigations; the question of God therefore continues foreign to it. A story is told that when Buonaparte expressed his astonishment that the Marquis de la Place could have written a large book on the system of the universe, without making any mention of the Creator, the learned astronomer replied to his sovereign: "Sire, I had no need of that hypothesis." The answer is admissible if we regard only the science of nature. An astronomer has no need of God in order to follow out the series of his calculations, and compare their results with the course of the stars; a chemist has no need of God in order to ascertain the simple elements combined in composite bodies; a natural philosopher has no need of God in order to determine the laws of waves of sound or of electric currents. The science of nature does not demonstrate the existence of God; still less can it deny His existence. To deny God, it would be necessary for science to demonstrate that there is no order, and consequently no cause of the order to discover; for when we point out the harmony of the universe, we manifestly prepare a basis for the argument which, from the intelligence recognized in the phenomena, will infer the intelligence of the Power which governs them. To prove that there is no order would be to prove that there is no science. For any one who well understands the value of terms, the words _atheistical science_ contain a contradiction; they signify science which proves that there is no science. Such, Gentlemen, is the real state of the question. Our savants, when they remain faithful to their method, seek to determine the laws of phenomena, and do not occupy themselves either with the First Cause of nature, or with its general object; they leave the question of God on one side. Whence come then the negations of naturalists? They arise in this way: those savants who succeed in strictly confining themselves within the limits of their science are rare exceptions. Almost always the _man_ introduces his thoughts into the work of the savant, and the results of his study appear to him religious or irreligious, according to his views of religion. Newton ends his book with a hymn to the Creator; but it is not the _mathematical principles_ of nature which have revealed to him the Sovereign God. He perceives the rays of His glory because he believes in Him. In the same way, the atheist thinks that his researches disprove the existence of God, because God is veiled from his soul. In both cases it is a doctrine foreign to pure natural science which gives a color to its results. Self-deception is very common in this matter, and in both directions. The religious mind does not understand how it is possible to contemplate the universe, and not see inscribed upon it distinctly the name of its Author; and the intrusion of atheism into the sciences of observation is veiled beneath confusions of ideas which it is of importance for us to dissipate. Modern science, as we have said, stops at laws, without troubling itself with causes. The laws which determine the series of facts as they offer themselves to observation express the mode of the action of the causes. There are here two ideas absolutely distinct: the power which acts, and the manner in which it acts. If the naturalist thinks that his science is everything, he must conclude that we can know nothing beyond the laws, and that an insuperable ignorance hides from our view the power of which they express the action. But he rarely succeeds in keeping this position, and deceives his reason by confounding the laws which he discovers with the causes with which his mind is not able to dispense. He says first of all with Franchi, "the universe is what it is"; this is the general formula of all the truths of experience; then he adds with the same author, "it is because it is." This _because_ means nothing, or means that laws are their own causes. If it is asked, What is the cause of the motion of the stars? they will give for answer the astronomical formulæ which express this motion, and will think that they have explained the phenomena by stating in what way they present themselves to observation. This is a curious example of that confusion of ideas which opens the door to atheism. An English naturalist, Mr. Darwin, has shown that in the successive life of animal generations, the favorable variations which are produced in the organization of a being are transmitted to its descendants and insure the perpetuity of its race, while the unpropitious variations disappear because they entail the destruction of the races in which they are produced. He tells us: "This preservation of favorable variations and the rejection of injurious variations, I call Natural Selection."[114] What does the author understand by law? He answers: "the series of facts as it is known to us."[115] Here we have the true definition of law: it is the simple expression of the series of the facts; the cause remains to be sought for. I open the book in another part. The author is speaking of the eye; and his doctrine is that the eye of the eagle was formed by the slow transformations of an extremely simple visual apparatus. There will have been then, in the development of animal existence, first of all a rudimentary eye, then an eye moderately well formed, and then the eye of the eagle, because the favorable modifications of the organ of sight will have been preserved and increased in the course of ages. Such is the series of facts, such is the law; suppose we grant it. What is the cause? The optician makes our spectacles; who made the eye of the eagle, by directing the slow transformations which at length produced it? Let us listen to the author: "There exists an intelligent power, and that intelligent power is natural selection, constantly on the watch for every alteration accidentally produced in the transparent layers, in order carefully to choose such of those alterations as may tend to produce a more distinct image.... Natural selection will choose with infallible skill each new improvement effected."[116] Natural selection is a law; a law is the series of facts; it seems that we must seek for the power which directs this series of facts; but, lo, the series of facts itself is transformed into a power--into an intelligent power--into a power which chooses with infallible skill! The confusion of ideas is complete. The mind is on a wrong scent; it concludes that the law explains everything, and has itself no need of explanation. The idea of the cause disappears, and, as Auguste Comte expresses it, "science conducts God with honor to its frontiers, thanking Him for His provisional services."[117] This is not perhaps the idea of Mr. Darwin, but it is at any rate the idea of some of his disciples, as we shall see by-and-by. Thus the idea of the cause is kept out of sight. Let us now see the fate to which are consigned those other requirements of the reason--the eternal and the infinite. I take up Dr. Büchner's book, and I read: "We are incapable of forming an idea, even approximately, of the _eternal_ and the _infinite_, because our mind, shut up within the limits of the senses, in what regards space and time, is quite unable to pass these bounds so as to rise to the height of these ideas." I follow the text, and thirteen lines further on, in the same page, I read, "Therefore matter and space must be eternal."[118] Observe well the use which this writer makes of the great ideas of the reason. Is it desired to employ them to prove the existence of God? He will have nothing to do with them. Is the object in question to deny God's existence? He makes use of them; and all in the same page. This is coarse work, no doubt, and Dr. Büchner damages his cause; but, under forms, often more subtle and more intelligent, the same sophism turns up in all systems of materialism.[119] It is affirmed that we have no real idea of the infinite, and it is sought at the same time to beguile the need which reason feels of this idea by applying it to matter. Pray do not suppose that I am here attacking the natural sciences, in the interest of metaphysics. I am not attacking but defending them. I am endeavoring, as far as in me lies, to avenge them from the outrages which are offered to them by materialism, while it seeks to cover with their noble mantle its own shameful nakedness. Naturalists on the one hand, and theologians and philosophers on the other, are too often at war. They are men, and as nothing human is foreign to them, they are not unacquainted either with proud prepossessions, or with jealous rivalries, or with the miserable struggles of envy: with these things the passions are chargeable. But never render the sciences responsible for the errors of their representatives. Take away human frailties, and you shall see harmony established; the study of matter will thus agree with the study of mind, and the idea of nature with the idea of God. You will see all the sciences rise together in a majestic harmony. I say rise, and I say it advisedly; for the sciences also form a part of that golden chain which should unite the earth to heaven. The assertion that the science of nature leads away from God, expresses nothing but a prejudice. It is not true in fact, and on principles of right reason it is impossible: the demonstration is complete. Atheism is a philosophy for which the natural sciences are in no degree responsible. We shall not undertake here the general discussion of this philosophy. Let us confine ourselves to the examination of the pretence which it puts forward to find a new support in the results of modern science. The nineteenth century bestows particular attention upon history, and it is not only to the annals of the human race that it directs its investigations. Geology and palæontology dive into the bowels of the earth in order to ask of the ground which carries us testimony as to what it carried of old. Astronomy goes yet further. It endeavors to conjecture what was the condition of our planet before the appearance of the first living being. It remarks that the sun is not fixed in the heavens, and that our earth does not twice travel over the same line in its annual revolutions. It appears that stars are seen in course of formation; it is suspected that some have wholly disappeared. Nature is not fixed, but is undergoing modifications--lives, in fact. The actual state of the universe is but a momentary phase in a development which supposes thousands of ages in the past, and seems to presage thousands more in the future. These conceptions are the result of solid and incontestable discoveries. They have disturbed men's minds, but what is their legitimate import? Why, Newton's argument receives new force from them. From a blind metaphysical necessity, everywhere and always the same, said this great man, no variation could spring. The more it is demonstrated that the universe is in course of development and modification, the more clearly comes into view the necessity of the supreme Power which is the cause of its modifications, and of the Infinite intelligence which is directing them to their end. This appears to be solid reasoning, and nevertheless atheism has endeavored to strike its roots in the ground of modern discoveries. It does this in the following way. If the universe as it is, with the infinite variety of beings which people it and the marvellous relations which connect these beings mutually together, could be shown to have sprung all at once from nothing, or to have emerged from chaos at a given instant, in its full harmony, the boldest mind would not venture to regard this miracle of intelligence as the product of chance. But modern science, it is said, no longer admits of this simple explanation of things: "God created the heavens and the earth." This phrase is henceforward admissible only in the catechism. We know that all has been produced by slow degrees, starting from weak and shapeless rudiments. This grand marvel of the universe was not made all of one piece. Man is of recent date; quadrupeds at a certain epoch did not exist; animals had a beginning, and plants also. The earth was once bare. Formerly, it was perhaps only a gaseous mass revolving in space. In course of time, matter was condensed; in time it was organized in living cellules; in time these cellules became shapeless animals; in time these animals were perfected. Time appears therefore to be the "universal factor"; and for the ancient formula, "the universe is the creation of God," we are able to substitute this other formula, the result, most assuredly, of modern science, "the universe is the work of time." In all this, Gentlemen, I have invented nothing. All I have done has been to put into form the theory, the elements of which I have met with in various contemporary productions.[120] They bewilder us by heaping ages upon ages, and in order to explain nature they substitute the idea of time for the ideas of power and intelligence. They seem to suppose that what is produced little by little is sufficiently explained by the slowness of its formation. These aberrations of thought have recently been manifested in a striking manner on the occasion of the publication of Mr. Darwin's book. This naturalist has given his attention to the transformation of organized types. He has discovered that types vary more than is generally supposed; and that we probably take simple varieties for distinct species. His discoveries will, I suppose, leave traces strongly marked enough in the history of science. But Mr. Darwin is not merely an observer; he is a theorist, dominated evidently by a disposition to systematize. Now minds of this character, which render, no doubt, signal services to the sciences of observation, are all like Pyrrhus, who, gazing on Andromache as he walked by her side, Still quaffed bewildering pleasure from the view.[121] Their theory is their lady-love; they love it passionately, and passionate love always strongly excites the imagination. Mr. Darwin then has put forth the hypothesis, that not only all animals, but all vegetables too, might have come from one and the same primitive type, from one and the same living cellule. This supposes that there was at the beginning but one single species, an elementary and very slightly defined organization, from which all that lives descended in the way of regular generation. The oak and the wild boar which eats its acorn, the cat and the flea which lodges in its fur, have common ancestors. The family, originally one, has been divided under the influence of soil, climate, food, moisture, mode of life, and by virtue of the natural selection which has preserved and accumulated the favorable modifications which have occurred in the organism. Mr. Darwin, I repeat, appears to me a man strongly disposed to systematize, but I do not on this account conclude that he is mistaken. The question is, what opinion we must form of his doctrine on principles of experimental science? Professor Owen[122] does not appear to allow it any value; M. Agassiz does not admit it at all;[123] and, without crossing the ocean, we might consult M. Pictet,[124] who would reply, that judging by the experimental data which we have at present, this doctrine is an hypothesis not confirmed by the observation of facts. We will leave this controversy to naturalists. What will remain eventually in their science of the system under discussion? The answer belongs to the future enlightened by experience and by the employment of a sage induction. What is the relation existing between these systematic views and the question of the Creator? This is the sole object of our study. The opinions of the English naturalist are very dubious as to the vital questions of religious philosophy. I have pointed out to you the confusion of his ideas in the use which he makes of natural selection. In the text of his book, he admits, in the special case of life, the intervention of the Creator for the production of the first living being, and he does not speak of man, except in an incidental sentence, which only attentive readers will take any notice of. If we do not take the liberty to look a little below the surface, we must say that Mr. Darwin remains on the ground of natural history. Therefore I spoke to you of the aberrations of philosophic thought which have been produced _on the occasion_ of his book. These aberrations are the following: First of all, natural selection has been taken for a cause, or rather as dispensing with the necessity for a cause, by means of a confusion of ideas for which the author is responsible. The system has therefore been understood as implying, that organized beings were formed without plan, without design, by the mere action of material causes, and as the result of modifications casual at first, and slowly accumulated. Divine intelligence and creative power thus seemed to be disappearing from the organization of the universe, and to disappear especially before the lapse of time and the infinitely slow action of physical causes. But while the system was taking wing, and soaring aloft, lo! the Creator at the commencement of things, and man conceived as a distinct being at the highest point of nature, have risen up as two idols and paralyzed its flight. To Mr. Darwin, however, have speedily succeeded disciples compromising their master's authority, and addressing him in some such language as this: "You, our master, do not fully follow out your own opinions; you strain off gnats,[125] and swallow camels. It is not more difficult to see in the living cellule a transformation of matter, and in man a transformation of the monkey, than to point out in a sponge the ancestor of the horse. Cast down your idols, and confess that matter developed in course of time, under favorable circumstances, is the origin of all that is." Matter, time, circumstances--these things have taken the place of God. This, Gentlemen, is a philosophy, properly so called, which vainly pretends to find a support in the observation of facts. Geoffroy Saint-Hilaire, the rival of Cuvier, set forth views analogous to those which Mr. Darwin has lately reproduced. But in his replies to the attacks which were made upon his system, he affirmed that his theory offered "one of the most glorious manifestations of creative power, and an additional motive for admiration, gratitude, and love."[126] Two different interpretations may therefore be given to the system. I wish to show you that these interpretations proceed in all cases from considerations external to the system. The system in itself, as a theory of natural history, could not in any way affect injuriously the great interests of spiritual truth. In order solidly to establish this assertion, I will suppose the hypotheses of the most advanced disciples of Mr. Darwin to have been verified by experimental science. I take for granted that it has been proved that all plants and all animals have descended, by way of regular generation, from living cellules originally similar; and that the material particles of the globe, at a given moment, drew together to form these cellules. And now where do we stand? Will God henceforward be a superfluous hypothesis? Do the atheistical consequences which it is desired to draw from this doctrine proceed logically from it? Most certainly not! I observe first of all that there exists a great question relative to the beginning of things. Matter is perfected and organized in process of time--but whence comes matter itself? Is it also formed little by little in process of time? Does non-existence become existence little by little? So it is said in the preface to the French translation of Mr. Darwin's book. But this appertains to high metaphysics; and I pass on. If time is the factor of all progress by a necessary law, this necessity must be everywhere the same. Have the elements of matter all the same age? If so, why have some followed the law of progress, and others not? Why has this mud and this coal remained mud and coal, age after age, while these other molecules have risen, in the hierarchy of the universe, to the dignity of life? Why have these mollusks remained mollusks throughout the succession of their generations, while others, happily transformed, have gradually mounted the steps of the ladder up to man? Whence comes this aristocracy of nature? Are the beings which we call inferior only the cadets of the universe, and are they too in their turn to mount all the steps of the ladder? Must we admit that there is going on the continual production, not only of living cellules which are beginning new series of generations, but also of new matter, which, setting out from the most rudimentary condition, is beginning the evolution which is to raise it into life? They do not venture to put forth theses of this nature, and, in order to account for the diversity of things, recourse is had to circumstances. The diversity of circumstances explains the diversity of developments. But whence can come the variety of circumstances in a world where all is produced in the way of fatal necessity, and without the intervention of a will and an intelligence? This is the remark of Newton. Study carefully the systems of materialism: their authors declare that to have recourse to God in order to account for the universe is a puerile conception unworthy of science, because all explanation must be referred to fixed and immutable laws; and then you will be for ever surprising them in the very act of the adoration of _circumstances_. Convenient deities these, which they summon to their aid in cases which they find embarrassing. But we will not insist on these preliminary considerations. We have allowed, for argument's sake, that all organized beings have proceeded by means of generation from cellules presenting to sensible observation similar appearances. Natural history cannot prove, nor even attempt to prove, more. Let us transport ourselves, in thought, to the moment at which the highest points of the continents were for the first time emerging from the primitive ocean. We see, on the parts of the soil which are half-dried, and in certain conditions of heat and electricity, particles of matter draw together and form those rudiments of organism which are called living cellules. These cellules have the marvellous faculty of self-propagation, and the faculty, not less marvellous, of transmitting to their posterity the favorable modifications which they have undergone. Generations succeed one another; gradually they form separate branches. New characteristics show themselves; the organisms become complicated, and becoming complicated they separate. The vegetable is distinguished from the animal; the plant which will become the palm-tree is distinguished from the oak which is in course of formation, and the ancestor of the future bird is already different from that of the fish. We follow up this great spectacle. The ages pass, they pass by thousands and by millions, they pass by tens of millions. We need not be stinting in our allowance of time; our imagination will be tired of conceiving of it sooner than thought of supplying it. And at what shall we have arrived at last? At the universe as it has been for some few thousands of years past; at the world with its vegetables of a thousand forms, grouped by classes and series, with the families of animals, with the relations of animals to plants, with the unnumbered harmonies of nature. Let us choose out one particular, on which to fix our attention. Shall it be a she-goat-- Upstretched on fragrant cytisus to browse? This will suit our purpose, although the cytisus, unless I am mistaken, has no perfume except in M. de Lamartine's verses. Let us fix our attention on a cytisus with its yellow clusters hanging down, and the goat bending its pliant branches as it browses on the foliage. Here is a very small detail in the ample lap of nature. Let us come closer, and to help our ignorance, let us provide ourselves with a naturalist who will answer for us the questions suggested by this simple spectacle. And what have we now before us? The various relations of the animal's organization to the vegetables on which it feeds. In the organization and functions of these two living beings, in the equilibrium and movements of their frames, in the circulation of sap and of blood, we have the application of the most secret laws of mechanism, of physics, and of chemistry. Then again, in the relations which the animal and the plant sustain with the ground which bears them, with the air they breathe, with the sun which enlightens them, with heat and light, with the moisture of the air and its electricity--in all this we see the universal relations which connect all the various parts of the wide universe with each one of its minutest details. In this simple spectacle we have, in fact, reciprocal relations, the balance of things, the harmony which maintains the universal life--intelligence, in short, in the organization of beings, in the characteristics which divide them, in the classes which unite them, in the relations of these classes amongst themselves;--wonders of intelligent design, of which the sciences we are so proud of are spelling out, letter by letter, line after line, the inexhaustible abysses: this is what we find everywhere. Let us now come back to our primitive cellules. All the living beings which people the surface of the globe are composed materially of some of the elements of the earth's substance. The birth therefore of the first living beings could only offer to the view the bringing together of some of the elements of the soil; this is not the matter in question. The primitive cellules were to all appearance alike. Weighed in scales, opened by the scalpel, placed beneath the microscope, they would have offered no appreciable difference; I grant it: it is the supposition we have agreed to make. Therefore they were identical, say you. I deny it, and here is my proof: If the cellules had been identical, they would not have given, in the successive development of their generations, the diverse beings which people the world, and the relations which unite them. Alike to your eyes, the cellules differed therefore by a concealed property which their development brought to light. You have told me as a matter of history how the organization of the world was manifested by slow degrees; you have given me no account of the cause of that organization. It is said in reply: "We do know the origin of those developments which you refer to a supposed intelligence. The living beings are transformed by the action of food, climate, soil, mode of life. They experience slight variations in the first instance; but these variations are established, and increase; and where you see a plan, types, and species, there is really only the result of modifications slowly accumulated. Nature disposes of periods which have no limit, and everything has come at its proper time, in the course of ages." They are always proposing to us to accept of time as the substitute for intelligence. I am tempted to say with Alcestis: Time in this matter, Sirs, has nought to do.[127] You know what intelligence is; you know it by knowing yourself. Is there, or is there not, intelligence in the universe? Allow me to reproduce some old questions: If a machine implies intelligence, does the universe imply none? If a telescope implies intelligence in the optician, does the eye imply none in its author? The production of a variety of the camelia, or of a new breed of swine, demands of the gardener and the breeder the patient and prolonged employment of the understanding; and are our entire flora and fauna to be explained without any intervention of mind? And if there is intelligence in the universe, is this intelligence a chemical result of the combination of molecules? is it a physical result of caloric or of electricity? It is in vain that you give to material agents an unlimited time; what has time to do here? Whether the world as it now exists arose out of nothing, or whether it was slowly formed during thousands of ages, the question remains the same. With matter and time, you will not succeed in creating intelligence; this were an operation of transcendent alchemy utterly beyond our power. In the theory of _slow causes_, the adjective ends by devouring the substantive; it seems that by dint of becoming slow the causes become superfluous. A breath of reason upsets, like a house of cards, the structures of this erring and misnamed science. Time has a relative meaning and value. We reckon duration as long or short, by taking human life as our measure. But they tell of insects which are born in the morning, arrive at mature age at mid-day, and only reach the evening if they are patriarchs of their race. Is it not easy to conceive of beings organized for an existence such that our centuries would be moments with them, and centuries heaped together one of our hours? Suppose one of these beings to be contemplating our geological periods, and slow causes will to him appear rapid causes, and the question of intelligence will be the same for him as for us. It is manifest that the attempt is being made to restore the worship of the old _Chronos_, to whom the ancients had erected temples. Let us look the idol in the face. Time appears at first to our imagination as the great destroyer. He is armed with a scythe, and passes gaunt and bald over the ruins of all that has lived. When he lifts up his great voice and cries-- Mighty nations famed in story Into darkness I have hurled,-- Gone their myriads and their glory (Lo! ye follow) from the world: My dark shade for ever covers Stars I quenched as on they rolled:-- the beautiful, and frightened girl in the song is not singular as she exclaims in her terror: Ah! we're young, and we are lovers, Spare us, Reaper gaunt and old![128] Such is the first impression which time makes upon us. But birth succeeds to death. From an inexhaustible spring, nature sends gushing forth new products and new developments. Youth full of hope trips lightly over the ground, without a thought that the ground it treads on is the vast cemetery of all past generations. If we fix our thoughts on the permanence of life and the manifestations of progress, time appears to us as the great producer. Destroyer of all that is, producer of all that is to be, time has thus a double form. It is a mysterious tide, ever rising and ever receding; it is the power of death, and it is the power of life. All this, Gentlemen, is for the imagination. In the view of a calm reason, time is the simply negative condition of all development, as space is the negative condition of all motion. Just as without bodies and forces infinite space could not produce any motion; so, without the action of causes, ages heaped on ages could neither produce nor destroy a single atom of matter, or a single element of intelligence. Time is the scene of life and of death; it neither causes to be born, nor to die. The struggle which we are now maintaining against the philosophers of matter is as ancient as science, and was going on, nearly in the same terms, more than two thousand three hundred years ago. About five hundred years before the Christian era was born at Clazomenæ, a city of Ionia, the son of Eubulus, who was to become famous by the name of Anaxagoras. He fixed his abode at Athens, and the Athenian people gave him a glorious surname,--they called him _Intelligence_. On what account? There were taught at that time doctrines which explained the world by the transformations of matter rising progressively to life and thought, without the intervention of a mind. The philosopher Anaximander gave out that the first animals had their origin in the watery element, and became modified by living in drier regions, so that man was only a fish slowly transformed. "I am quite willing to grant it," replied Anaxagoras; "but for your transformations there must be a transforming principle. Matter is the material of the world, no doubt; but it could not produce universal order except as ruled by intelligence." The Athenians admired this discovery. For us, Gentlemen, the discovery has been made a long while. Let us not then be talking in this discussion about modern science and the lights of the age. Our natural history is much advanced as compared with that of the Greeks; but the vital question has not varied. Does nature manifest the intervention of a directing mind, or do we see in it only a fortuitous aggregation of atoms? Intelligence radiates from the face of nature, and it is in vain that men endeavor to veil its splendor. Nevertheless I consent to forget all that has just been said, in order to intrench myself in an argument, which of itself is sufficient for the object we have in view to-day. Our object is to prove that material science does not contain the explanation of all the realities of the universe. Even though they had succeeded in persuading us that there is no intelligence in nature, it would still be necessary to explain the origin of that intelligence which is in us, and the existence of which cannot be disputed. Whence proceeds the mind which is in ourselves? Let us first of all give our attention to a strange contradiction. Those savants who make of the human soul a simple manifestation of matter, are the same who wish to explain nature without the intervention of the Divine intelligence. In order to keep out of view the design which is displayed in the organization of the world, they take a pleasure in finding nature at fault, and in pointing out its imperfections. Still, they do not pretend to be able to do better than nature; they would not undertake the responsibility of correcting the laws of life, and regulating the course of the seasons. They do not say, "We could make a better world," but "We can imagine a world more perfect than our own." Now what is our answer? Simply this: "You are right." Nature is not the supreme perfection, and therefore we will not worship it. How admirable soever be the visible universe, we have the faculty of conceiving more and better. We understand that the atmosphere might be purified, so that the tempest should not engulf the ships, nor the thunderbolt produce the conflagration. We dream of mountain-heights more majestic than the loftiest summits of our Alps, of waters more transparent than the pure crystal of our lakes, of valleys fresher and more peaceful than the loveliest which hide among our hills. The spectacle of nature awakens in us the powers of thought, and the sentiment of beauty draws us on to the pursuit of an ideal which surpasses all realities. Nature is not perfect: let us be forward to acknowledge it, and let us draw from the fact its legitimate consequence. The stream cannot rise higher than its source. If man conceives an ideal superior to nature, he is not himself the mere product of nature. By what strange contradiction is it affirmed at once that our spirit overpasses the bounds of all the realities which encompass it, and that it has not a source more elevated than those realities? Listen to a thought of that weighty writer Montesquieu:[129] "Those who have said that a blind fatality has produced all the effects which we see in the world, have said a great absurdity; for what greater absurdity than a blind fatality which should have produced intelligent beings?" Without restricting ourselves to this simple and solid argument, let us see how they will explain man by nature. For this end, we must examine the theory of the perfected monkey, which, introduced to us by the lectures of Professor Vogt and the spirited rejoinders of M. de Rougemont, made a great noise as it descended a short time ago from the mountains of Neuchâtel.[130] A celebrated orator said one day to an assembly of Frenchmen: "I am long, Gentlemen; but it is your own fault: it is your glory that I am recounting." Have not I the right to say to you: "I am long, Gentlemen, but it is worth while to be so; it is our own dignity which is in question." Man is a perfected monkey! I have three preliminary observations to make before I proceed to the direct examination of this theory. In the first place, this definition transgresses the first and most essential rules of logic. We must always define what is unknown by what is known. This is an elementary principle. What a man is, I know. To think, to will, to enjoy, to hope, to fear, are functions of the mental life. These words answer to clear ideas, because those ideas result directly from our personal consciousness. But what is the soul of a monkey? The nature of animals is a mystery, one which is perhaps incapable of solution, and which, in all cases is wrapped in profound darkness, because the animal appears to us an intermediate link between the mechanism of nature and the functions of the spiritual life, which are the only two conceptions we have that are really clear and distinct. In taking the monkey therefore as our point of departure for the definition of man, we are defining what is clear by what is obscure. My second remark is this: If it is affirmed that there is but one species, including all the animals and man, so that man is only a monkey modified, and the monkey, in its turn, an inferior animal modified; when once we have established the reality of man we arrive at this result: all animals whatsoever are only inferior developments of humanity, living foetuses which, without having come to their full term, have nevertheless the faculty of living and reproducing themselves. The animal then is an incomplete man; a theory which raises great difficulties, but which is more serious and more easy to understand than the doctrine which would have man to be a consummation of the monkey. In fact,--and this is my third observation,--when the theory which I am examining is adopted, it must be carried out to its consequences, and the bearing of it clearly seen. Man, it is said, is the consummation of the monkey. The monkey is an improvement upon some quadruped or other, and this quadruped is an improvement upon another, and so on. We must descend, in an inevitable logical series, to the most elementary manifestations of life, and thence, finally, to matter. If it is not admitted that pure matter is a man in a state of torpor, it must be admitted that man is a _mélange_ of carbon, oxygen, hydrogen, azote, phosphorus--a _mélange_ which has been brought little by little to perfection. Such is the final inference from the doctrine which we are examining; and there are theorists who deduce it clearly. Now what is it that goes on in the minds of these savants? When the object is to banish God from nature, the creative Intelligence is resolved into thousands of ages. When it is desired to get rid in man of the reality of mind, they seek to resolve the human intelligence into a long series of modifications which have caused life to spring from matter, superior animals from simpler organisms, and man from the animal. Do not allow yourselves to be caught in this trap. Maintain firmly, that, whatever the degree of intelligence, of will, of spiritual essence, which may exist in animals, if that element is really found in them, it demands a cause, and cannot, without an enormous confusion of ideas, be regarded as a mere perfecting of matter. In fact, a thing in perfecting itself, realizes continually more fully its own proper idea, and does not become another thing. A perfect monkey would be of all monkeys the one which is most a monkey, and would not be a man. But let us leave the animals in the darkness in which they abide for our minds, and let us speak of what for us is less obscure. Our spiritual existence is a fact; it is of all facts the one which is best known to us; it is the fact without which no other fact would exist for us. And whence proceeds our spirit? To this question, natural history has no answer. It is easy to see this, though we grant once again to natural history, when made the most of by our adversaries, all that it can pretend to claim. Suppose it proved, that in the historical development of nature, man has a monkey for his mother. I will grant it, and grant it quite seriously in order to ascertain what will be the influence of this hypothesis upon the problem on which we are engaged. If all monkeys were fossils, and if we had a natural history, also fossil, setting forth to us the customs and habits of these animals; if the savages that are said to be the nearest neighbors to monkeys were all fossils; we should find ourselves in presence of a progressive and continued development of beings, and, for an inattentive mind, all would be easily explained by the slow and continued action of time. But this is not the case. All the elements of nature are before our eyes, from inorganic matter up to man. We do not see that time suffices for savages to become civilized, and still less for monkeys to become men. I was, in the spring of this year, in the _Jardin des plantes_ at Paris, musing on the question which we are discussing, and I took a good look at the monkeys. Come now, I said to myself, canst thou recognize them as thine ancestors? The question was badly put. The monkeys are not our ancestors, inasmuch as they are living at the same time with us; they can only be our cousins, and it would seem that they are the eldest branch, as they have best preserved the primitive type. But let us speak more seriously. The races of monkeys have lived as long or longer than we: it is neither time nor climate which has made men of them. Recollect, I pray you, that the words 'time' and 'progress' explain nothing. There must have occurred favorable circumstances to transform the earth's substance into living cellules, and the living cellules into plants clearly marked, and into animals properly so called; and in the same way there must have been a propitious circumstance to transform the monkey into man. I think so, in fact; and this propitious circumstance well deserves to be studied with attention. Man presents characteristics which distinguish him profoundly from the animal races: no one disputes it. He possesses speech; he is capable of religion; he exhibits the varied phenomena of civilization, while the animals succeed one another generations after generations in the unrecorded obscurity of a life for ever the same. Suppose we admit that human phenomena presented themselves at first in a very elementary form; in rudiments of language and rudiments of religion,--although the historical sciences do not quite give this result:--still suppose the case that at a given moment a branch of the monkey species presented the germ, as little developed as you please, but real, of new phenomena. One variety of the monkey species has been endowed with speech, has become religious, capable of civilization, and the other varieties of the species have not offered the same characteristics, although they have had the same number of ages in which to develop themselves. Observe well now my process of reasoning. Remark attentively whether I oppose theories to facts, whether I substitute oratorical declamations for arguments. I grant the hypotheses best calculated, as commonly thought, to contradict my theses. I assume that natural history demonstrates by solid proofs that the first man was carried in the bosom of a monkey; and I ask: What is the circumstance which set apart in the animal species a branch which presented new phenomena? What is the cause? That monkey-author of our race which one day began to speak in the midst of his brother-monkeys, amongst whom thenceforward he had no fellow; that monkey, that stood erect in the sense of his dignity; that, looking up to heaven, said, My God! and that, retiring into himself, said: I!--that monkey which, while the female monkeys continued to give birth to their young, had sons by the partner of his life and pressed them to his heart; that monkey--what shall we say of it? What climate, what soil, what regimen, what food, what heat, what moisture, what drought, what light, what combination of phosphorus, what disengagement of electricity, separated from the animal races, not only man, but human society? humanity with its combats, its falls, its risings again, its sorrows and its joys, its tears and its smiles; humanity with its arts, its sciences, its religion, its history in short, its history and its hopes of immortality? That monkey, what shall we say of it? Do you not see that the breath of the Spirit passed over it, and that God said unto it: Behold, thou art made in mine image: remember now thy Father who is in heaven? Do you not see that though we grant everything to the extreme pretensions of naturalists, the question comes up again whole and entire? When by dint of confusions and sophisms such theorists imagine that they have extinguished the intelligence which radiates from nature, that intelligence again confronts them in man, and there, as in an impregnable fortress, sets all attacks at defiance. Mark then where lies the real problem. Whether the eternal God formed the body of the first man directly from the dust of the earth; or whether, in the slow series of ages, He formed the body of the first man of the dust of the earth, by making it pass through the long series of animality--the question is a grave one, but it is of secondary importance. The first question is to know whether we are merely the ephemeral product of the encounter of atoms, or whether there is in us an essence, a nature, a soul, a reality in short, with which may connect itself another future than the dissolution of the sepulchre; whether there remains another hope than annihilation as the term of our latest sorrows, or, for the aspirants after fame, only that evanescent memory which time bears away with everything beside. This is the question. Do not allow it to be put out of sight beneath details of physiology and researches of natural history, which can neither settle, nor so much as touch the problem. If therefore you fall in with any one of these philosophers of matter, bid him take this for all your answer: "There is one fact which stands out against your theory and suffices to overthrow it: that fact is--myself!" And since, to have the better of materialism, it is sufficient to understand well what is one thought of the mind, one throb of the spiritual heart, one utterance of the conscience,--add boldly with Corneille's Medea: I,--I say,--and it is enough. In fact, nature does not explain man, and to this conclusion has tended all that I have said to you to-day. FOOTNOTES: [97] _Harmonices mundi, libri quinque._ [98] _Philosophiæ naturalis principia mathematica._ [99] The whole universe is full of His magnificence. May this God be adored and invoked for ever! [100] _Le Rationalisme_, page 19. [101] _Force et Matière_, page 262. [102] _Les Mondes Causeries astronomiques_ by Guillemin; see p. 122 (3rd edition), where Kepler is described as an intelligence "penetrated by a profound faith in nature and exalted by a noble pride." See also pages 327 and 336. [103] The question discussed in these pages must not be confounded with that of the relations between the science of nature and the documents of revelation. Whether nature can be explained without God is one question. Whether geology is in accordance with the language of the book of Genesis is another question, as regards both its nature and its importance. This latter subject does not come within the scope of these lectures. I will merely call attention to the fact, that if nature and the sacred text are fixed elements, this is not the case with the interpretations of theologians, and the results of geology. It is difficult to pronounce upon the exact relation of two quantities more or less indeterminate. [104] In the writings of M. de Rougemont, if I am not mistaken. [105] _Systema naturæ._ [106] Ps. civ. 24. [107] _Biographie universelle._ [108] _A. P. de Candolle_, by A. de la Rive, pp. 12 and 13. [109] M. Vaucher's principal title to scientific distinction is his _Histoire des conferves d'eau douce_, Genève, an XI (1803), 4°. [110] _Comptes rendus de l'Académie des Sciences_ of 20 April, 1863, page 738. [111] Exeter Hall Lectures--_The Power of God in His Animal Creation_, pamphlet in 12mo. This remarkable lecture contains a twofold protest--against the blindness of those savants who fail to recognize the presence of God in nature; and against the pretensions of those theologians who attack the certain results of the study of nature, relying upon texts more or less accurately interpreted. [112] _Chemistry applied to Agriculture and to Physiology_ (in German). Seventh edition. Introd. page 69. [113] Since these words were spoken, M. de la Rive has been named an associated member of the Institute of France (Academy of Sciences), and thus elevated to the first of scientific dignities. It might be shown, I believe, that the greater number of the eight associates of the Academy of Sciences to be found in the world, make profession of their faith in God the Creator, the Almighty and Holy One. The silence which others may have preserved on the subject would, moreover, be no authority for concluding that they do not share in beliefs and sentiments which they have not had the occasion perhaps of publicly expressing. [114] _On the Origin of Species_, page 81. Fifth edition. [115] _On the Origin of Species_. The text is--"the _necessary_ series of facts;" but it would be to do the writer wrong to impute to him the idea that observation reveals to us what is _necessary_, in the philosophical import of the word. [116] _On the Origin of Species._ [117] Caro, _L'Idée de Dieu_, page 47. [118] _Force et Matière_, page 181. [119] The Büchner proceeding is found again pretty exactly in _Les Mondes_ of M. Amédée Guillemin. This writer affirms (page 60 of the third edition) that science does not approach metaphysical questions; and asserts in the same page, ten lines further on, that astronomical experience leads our reason to the idea of _the eternity of the universe_. After that, he may laugh, if he will, at _lovers of the absolute_. [120] See in particular the _Revue des Deux Mondes_, passim. [121] S'enivrait en marchant du plaisir de la voir. [122] See the lecture above mentioned. [123] _Lettres sur les Etats-Unis d'Amérique_, by Lieutenant-Colonel Ferri Pisani, page 400.--Letter of 25 Sept. 1861. [124] On the origin of species, in the _Archives des sciences de la Bibliothèque universelle_, March, 1860. [125] Vous coulez des moucherons. [126] In his _Principes de philosophie zoologique_, a collection of answers made by Geoffroy, in the discussions of the _Académie des Sciences_, in 1830. [127] Voyons, Messieurs, le temps ne fait rien à l'affaire. [128] Sur cent premiers peuples célèbres, J'ai plongé cent peuples fameux, Dans un abîme de ténèbres Où vous disparaîtrez comme eux. J'ai couvert d'une ombre éternelle Des astres éteints dans leur cours. --Ah! par pitié, lui dit ma belle, Vieillard, épargnez nos amours! [129] _Esprit des Lois_, Bk. I. chap. 1. [130] _Leçons sur l'homme_, by Carl Vogt (lectures delivered during the winter of 1862-1863, at Neuchâtel and at Chaux-de-Fonds), 1 vol. 8vo. Paris, 1865.--_L'Homme et le Singe_, by Frédéric de Rougemont, pamphlet, 12mo. Neuchâtel, 1863. LECTURE V. _HUMANITY._ (At Geneva, 1st. Dec., 1863.) GENTLEMEN, Man has need of God. If he be not fallen into the most abject degradation, he does not succeed in extinguishing the instinct which leads him to inquire after his Creator. A false wisdom labors to still the cravings which the truth alone can satisfy; but false wisdom remains powerless, and betrays itself continually by some outrageous contradiction. Here is a curious example of this: In a book which was famous in the last century, and which was called the gospel of atheism,[131] the Baron d'Holbach explains as follows the existence of the universe: "The universe, that vast assemblage of all that exists, everywhere presents to our view only matter and motion.--Nature is the grand whole which results from the assemblage of different material substances, from their different combinations, and from the different motions which we see in the universe."[132] Here is a clear doctrine: all that exists, the soul included, is nothing but matter in motion. I pass from the beginning to the end of the work, and I arrive at this conclusion: "O nature! sovereign of all beings! and ye, her adorable daughters, virtue, reason, truth! be ye for ever our sole divinities; to you it is that the incense and the homage of the earth are due."[133] If we try to translate this sort of hymn in accordance with the express definitions of the author, we shall obtain the following result: "O matter in motion! sovereign of all material substances in motion! and ye, virtue, reason, truth, who are various names of matter which moves, be ye the only divinities of that moving matter which is ourselves." Yet this author was no blockhead. What then passed in his mind? He laid down the thesis of materialism: bodies in motion are the only reality. But he is all the while a man. The need for adoration is not destroyed in his soul, and he deceives himself. He defines nature as consisting wholly of matter, and when he sets himself to worship it, he entirely forgets his definition. This is not on his part a piece of philosophical jugglery, but the manifestation of the real condition of our nature, which is always giving the lie, in one direction or another, to erroneous systems. The power of wholly maintaining himself in error has not been granted to man. He who denies God is always deifying something; and all worship which is not that of the Eternal and Infinite Mind is stultified by glaring contradictions. Here is a recent example of this: We were not a little surprised a short time since to see M. Ernest Renan deny clearly enough the immortality of our persons, and, in the opening of the very book in which this negation appears, to find him invoking the soul of his sister at rest with God.[134] Elsewhere, the same writer says that the Infinite Being does not exist, that absolute reason and absolute justice exist only in humanity, and he concludes his exposition of these views by an invocation of the Heavenly Father.[135] The Baron d'Holbach had put eight hundred and thirty-nine pages between his materialistic definition of the universe and his invocation of nature. Now-a-days everything goes faster; and M. Renan places but a few pages of the _Revue des Deux Mondes_ between his denial of God and his prayer to the Heavenly Father. With this difference, which is to the advantage of the writer of the eighteenth century, the process is absolutely the same. The philosopher declares God to be an imaginary being, and the future life an illusion; but the man protests, and, by a touching illusion of the heart, the man who in his system of doctrine has neither God nor hope, finds that he has a sister in the realms eternal, and a Father in the heavens. It is impossible not to see, especially in literary works destined to a success of fashion, the seductive influence of art, the precautions of prudence, the concessions made to public opinion; but we cannot wholly explain the incredible contradictions of the Holbachs and Renans, without allowing full weight to that need for God which shows itself even in the farthest wanderings of human thought by sudden and abrupt returns. The illusion which deifies matter in motion is gross enough. It belongs only to minds which Cicero called, in the aristocratic pride of a Roman gentleman, the plebeians of philosophy.[136] It requires, in fact, no great reflection to understand that truth, beauty, and goodness are neither atoms nor a certain movement of atoms. The attempt, which is to form the subject of our study to-day, that of deifying man, is a far more subtle one. Let us first of all inquire into the origin of the strange worship which humanity accords to itself. Nature, considered separately from the beings which receive sensible impressions from it, has neither heat nor light. In a world peopled by the blind, light would have no name. If all men were entirely paralyzed as to their sensations, the idea of heat would not exist. Light and heat, regarded as existing in matter itself, without reference to sensitive organizations, are, in the opinion of our natural philosophers, only determinate movements. In the same way, if nature were without any spectator whatever, beauty would not exist; if there were nowhere any intelligence, truth would no longer be. In the same way again, if there were no wills, goodness, which is nothing else than the law of the will, would be a word deprived of all meaning. Beauty expresses the object of the perceptions of the soul. Truth denotes the quality of the judgments of intelligences. Goodness (I speak of moral goodness) expresses a certain direction of the free will. There exists no means of causing to proceed from nature, or from matter, the attributes of the spiritual being. This is only done by imaginary transformations, by a course of arrant juggling. The flame does not feel its own heat, light does not see itself, the planets know nothing of the laws of Kepler. Materialism is the result of a modesty wholly misplaced which leads man to forget himself, in order to attribute gratuitously to nature realities which exist only in spiritual beings connected with nature by a marvellous harmony. In order therefore to account for the universe, we must raise ourselves above the atom in motion, and penetrate into a higher world where truth, beauty, goodness become the objects of thought. Truth, beauty, goodness conduct the mind to God, their eternal source. But there is a philosophy which endeavors to stop midway in the ascent of the Divine ladder, and thinks to satisfy itself in the contemplation of the true, the beautiful, the good, without connecting them with their cause. This philosophy considers the true, the beautiful, the good, as ideas which exist by themselves, without a supreme Spirit of which they are the manifestation. It has received, in consequence, the name of idealism. To conceive of ideas without a mind, ideas having an existence by themselves, is a thing impossible; such a conception is expressed by words which give back a hollow sound, because they contain nothing. We have already stated this thesis; let us now confirm it by an example. A literary Frenchman, M. Taine, would make us understand in what manner the universe may be explained without reference to God, and by means of a pure idea. Listen well, not to understand, but to make sure that you do not understand: "The universe forms a unique being, indivisible, of which all the beings are members. At the supreme summit of things, at the highest point of the luminous and inaccessible ether, pronounces itself the eternal axiom; and the prolonged resounding of this creative formula composes, by its inexhaustible undulations, the immensity of the universe. Every form, every change, every movement, every idea is one of its acts."[137] M. Taine is a man of humor, and the burlesque has a place in his philosophical writings; but in the words which I have just read to you he seems to have intended seriously to expound the system which replaces God by an idea. Try now to form a definite conception of this universe composed of the undulations of an axiom. Do you understand how an axiom undulates, and how the heavens and the earth are only the undulations of an axiom? Making all allowance for rhetoric and figures, do you understand what can be the acts of an axiom, and how an axiom _pronounces itself_ without being pronounced? You do not understand it, as neither do I. Such doctrines, then, as we have said, can only be the portion of a small number of thinkers who have lost, by dint of abstraction, the sentiment of reality. The ideas--truth, beauty, good--will only exist for the common order of men, under such a system, in the human mind, where we have cognizance of them; and thenceforward, the ideal, or God, is nothing else than the image of humanity which contemplates itself in a sort of mirage. Thus it is that the adoration of man by man is disengaged from the high theories of idealism. Let us proceed to the examination of this worship, which is cried up now-a-days in divers parts of the intellectual globe. I open the _Revue des Deux Mondes_, of the 15th February, 1861. As the author of the article I refer to[138] appears to admit "that one assertion is not more true than another opposed to it,"[139] we will not be so simple as to ask whether he adopts the opinions which he propounds. He presents to us, in a rapid sketch, the principal tendencies of the modern mind. The modern mind is here characterized by one of its declared partisans; you will not take therefore for a wicked caricature the picture which he puts before us. Here then are the thoughts of the modern mind: "There is only one infinite, that of our desires and our aspirations, that of our needs and our efforts.[140] The true, the beautiful, the just are perpetually occurring; they are for ever in course of self-formation, because they are nothing else than the human mind, which, in unfolding itself, finds and knows itself again."[141] This is only the French translation of a saying celebrated in Germany: "God is not: He becomes." What we call God is the human mind. What was there at the beginning of things? The human mind, which did not know itself. What will there be in the end? The human mind, which, in unfolding itself, will have come to know itself, and will adore itself as the supreme God. If this be indeed the final object of the universe, it appears that, in the opinion of these philosophers, the consummation of all things must be near. Once that humanity, faithful to their doctrine, shall have pronounced the lofty utterance, "I am God, and there is none else," the world will no longer have any reason for existing. Such is the system of which we have to follow out the consequences. Let us take as our point of comparison the old ideas which we are urged to abandon. We usually explain human destinies by the concurrence of two causes, infinitely distinct, since the one is creative and the other created, but both of which we hold for real: man, and God. Humanity has received from its Author the free power which we call will, and the law of that will which we name conscience. The law proceeds from God, the liberty proceeds from God; but the acts of the created will, when it violates its law and revolts against its Author, are the creation of the creature. God is the eternal source of good, and liberty is a good; but God is not the source of evil, which is distinctly a revolt against Him, the abuse of the first of His gifts. Together with will, man has received understanding, and gives himself to the search after truth. Truth is the object of the understanding, its Divine law. Error is a deviation from the law of the understanding, as evil is a deviation from the law of the will. Lastly, with will and understanding, man has received the faculty of feeling. This faculty applies itself to the world of bodies, from which we receive pain or pleasure. But our faculty of feeling does not stop there. Above the animal life, the mind has enjoyments which are proper to it, and the object of which is beauty. Beauty is not only in nature and in works of art, it is everywhere, in whatever attracts our love. The sciences are beautiful, and the harmony of the truths which are discovered in their order and mutual dependence causes us to experience a feeling similar to that produced by the most delightful music. Virtue is beautiful; it shines in the view of the conscience with the purest brightness, and, as was said by one of the ancients, if it could reveal itself to our eyes in a sensible form, it would excite in our souls feelings of inexpressible love. Vice is ugly when once stripped of the delusive fascination of the passions; the vicious excesses of the lower nature are ugly and repulsive as soon as the intoxication is over. Error is ugly too; there are no beautiful errors but those which contain a larger portion of truth than the prosaic verities, which are nothing else than falsehoods put in a specious way. Beauty therefore is the law of our feelings, as truth is the law of our thought, and good the law of our will. We will not inquire now what secret relations shall one day bring together in an indissoluble unity of light, the good, the true, and the beautiful, and in a unity of darkness, evil, deformity, and falsehood. Let it suffice to have pointed out how a threefold aspiration leads man to God, under the guidance of the conscience, the understanding, and the feelings; and that a threefold rebellion estranges him from God, by sinking him into the dark regions of deformity, error, and evil. Humanity has therefore a law; it has been endowed with liberty, but that a liberty of which the legitimate end is determined. It advances towards this end, or it swerves from it. There is a rule above its acts. The thing as it is may not be the thing as it ought to be; rebellion is not obedience, and good is not evil. All these consequences are included in the idea of creation. The struggle between two opposite principles, a struggle which sums up human destiny, is a fact of which each one of us can easily assure himself in his own person. What will happen when man, sensible of the law of his nature, and conscious of this struggle, proceeds to encounter humanity? Each one of us carries humanity in his own bosom. But humanity, the character of man which is common to us, and which makes the spiritual unity of our species, is found to be altered by the influence of places, times, and circumstances. Our reason is encumbered by prejudices of birth and education, and by such as we have ourselves created in our minds in the exercise of our will. Our sense of beauty is vitiated and narrowed by local influences and habits. Our conscience is likewise subjected to influences which impair its free manifestation. Every one needs to enlarge his horizon. By seeking occasions of intercourse with our fellows, we shall learn to discriminate true and eternal beauty in the diversity of its manifestations; we shall distinguish the truth from the individual prepossessions of our own minds; good and evil, disengaged from the narrownesses of habit, will appear to us in their real and enduring nature. Our taste will be formed, our conscience purified, our mind enlarged; we shall more and more become men, in the high and full acceptation of the term. In order that the meeting together of the individual and of humanity may produce such fruits, God must dwell continually in the sanctuary of the conscience. The inner light is kindled in the intercourse of the soul with its Creator; it is afterwards brightened and nurtured by the soul's intercourse with the traces of God which humanity reveals. But this light makes manifest within us, and without us, great darkness. We have no right to abandon ourselves to every spectacle which strikes our view. If, in presence of what is passing in the world, we are tempted to regard the prosperity of the wicked with cowardly envy; if we would fill up, for the satisfaction of our evil desires, the abyss which separates the holy from the impure, the inner voice lifts itself up and cries to us: "Woe! woe to them who call evil good, and good evil."[142] God is our Master, even as He is our good and our hope. The fact of the revolts of humanity can have no effect against His sovereign will. Soldiers in the service of the Almighty, life is for us a conflict, and duty imposes on us a combat. Such, Sirs, is the explanation of our destinies, an old, and, if you like, a vulgar one. Let us now give our attention to the doctrine which deifies humanity, and follow out its consequences. Humanity carries within its bosom the idea of truth, the love of beauty, the sense of good. What does it need more? These noble aspirations mark for it the end of its efforts. What will be wanting to a life regulated by duty, enlightened by truth, ennobled by art? What will be wanting to such a life? Nothing, or everything. Nothing, if the search after good, truth, and beauty leads to God. Everything, if it be sought to carry it on without any reference to God, because from the moment that man desires to be the source of light to himself, the light will be changed into darkness, as we said at the beginning of this lecture. Put God out of view, and good, beauty, and truth will disappear; while you will see produced the decline of art, the dissolution of thought in scepticism, the absolute negation of morality. Let us consider with the attention it deserves, and in contemporary examples, this sad and curious spectacle. I open a treatise by M. Taine. The English historian Macaulay speaks of literary men who "have taken pains to strip vice of its odiousness, to render virtue ridiculous, to rank adultery among the elegant fashions and obligatory achievements of a man of taste." The honest Englishman takes the liberty to judge and to condemn men who have made so pernicious a use of their talents. This pretension to make the conscience speak is in the eyes of the French man of letters a gothic prejudice. Listen how he expresses himself on the subject: "Criticism in France has freer methods.--When we try to give an account of the life, or to describe the character, of a man, we are quite willing to consider him simply as an object of painting or of science.... We do not judge him, we only wish to represent him to the eyes and to set him intelligibly before the reason. We are curious inquirers and nothing more. That Peter or Paul was a knave matters little to us, that was the business of his contemporaries, who suffered from his vices--At this day we are out of his reach, and hatred has disappeared with the danger--I experience neither aversion nor disgust; I have left these feelings at the gate of history, and I taste the very deep and very pure pleasure of seeing a soul act according to a definite law--."[143] You understand, Gentlemen: the distinction between good and evil, as that between error and truth; these are old sandals which must be put off before entering into the temple of history; and the man of the nineteenth century, if he has taste and information, is merely an historian, and nothing more. The sacred emotion which generous actions produce in us, the indignation stirred in us by baseness and cruelty, are childish emotions which are to disappear in order that we may be free to contemplate vice and virtue with a pleasure always equal, very deep, and very pure. We have not here the aberration of a young and ill-regulated mind, but the doctrine of a school. I open again the _Revue des Deux Mondes_, and there I encounter the theory of which M. Taine has made the application: "We no longer know anything of morals, but of manners; of principles, but of facts. We explain everything, and, as has been said, the mind ends _by approving of all that it explains_. Modern virtue is summed up in toleration.[144]--Immense novelty! That which is, has for us the right to be.[145]--In the eyes of the modern savant, all is true, all is right in its own place. The place of each thing constitutes its truth."[146] I cut short the enumeration of these enormities. All rule has disappeared, all morality is destroyed; there is no longer any difference between right and fact, between what is and what ought to be. And what is the real account to give of all this? It is as follows: Humanity is the highest point of the universe; above it there is nothing; humanity is God, if we consent to take that sacred name in a new sense. How then is it to be judged? In the name of what rule? since there is no rule: in the name of what law? since there is no law. All judgment is a personal prejudice, the act of a narrow mind. We do not judge God, we simply recount His dealings; we accept all His acts, and record them with equal veneration. All science is only a history, and the first requisite in a historian is to reduce to silence his conscience and his reason, as sorry and deceitful exhibitions of his petty personality, in order to accept all the acts of the humanity-deity, and establish their mutual connection. The deification of the human mind is the justification of all its acts, and, by a direct consequence, the annihilation of all morality. Let us look more in detail at the origin and development of these notions. The individual placing himself before humanity is to accept everything: this is the disposition recommended to us, in the name of the modern mind. Good and evil are narrow measures which minds behind the age persist, ridiculously enough, in wishing to apply to things. "We no longer transform the world to our image by bringing it to our standard; _on the contrary, we allow ourselves to be modified and fashioned by it_."[147] The individual goes therefore to meet humanity without any inner rule: he gives himself up, he abandons himself to the spectacle of facts. But the world is large, and history is long. Even those who spend their whole life in nothing else than in satisfying their curiosity, cannot see and know everything. To what then shall be directed that vague look, equally attracted to all points for want of any fixed rule? At what shall it stop? It will rest on that which shines most brilliantly, like a moth attracted by light. Now, nothing shines more brightly than success; nothing more solicits the attention. The glorification of success is the first and most infallible consequence of moral indifference. In leaving ourselves to be fashioned by the world instead of bringing it to our standard, we shall begin by according our esteem to victory. This philosophy is come to us from Germany. It was set forth on one occasion, in France, with great _éclat_, by the brilliant eloquence of a man who has rendered signal services to philosophy, and whose entire works must not be judged of by the single particular which I am about to mention. In the year 1829, M. Cousin was developing at the Sorbonne the meaning of these verses of La Fontaine, which introduce the fable of the Wolf and the Lamb: La raison du plus fort est toujours la meilleure: Je vais le montrer tout à l'heure. He had written as the programme of one of his lectures: _Morality of Victory_. Now see how he justified this surprising title: "I have absolved victory as necessary and useful; I now undertake to absolve it as just in the strictest sense of the word. Men do not usually see in success anything else than the triumph of strength, and an honorable sympathy draws us to the side of the vanquished; I hope I have shown that since there must always be a vanquished side, and since the vanquished side is always that which ought to be so, to accuse the conqueror is to take part against humanity, and to complain of the progress of civilization. We must go farther; we must prove that the vanquished deserved to be so, that the conqueror not only serves the interests of civilization, but that he is better, more moral than the vanquished, and that it is on that account he is the conqueror.... It is time that the philosophy of history should place at its feet the declamations of philanthropy."[148] These words are worth considering. When Brennus the Gaul was having the gold weighed which he exacted from the vanquished Romans, he threw his heavy sword into the balance, exclaiming, _Væ Victis!_ Woe to the conquered! He simply meant to say that he was the stronger, and did not foresee that a Gaul of the nineteenth century, availing himself of the labors of learned Germany, would demonstrate that being the stronger he was on that very account the more just. But we must not wander too far from our subject. When the spectacle of the world is freely indulged in without any application to it of the measure of the conscience, what first strikes the view is success. It is necessary therefore to begin with rendering glory to success by declaring victory good. Now, mark well here the conflict of the old notions with the so-called modern mind. From the old point of view, victory in the issue belongs to good, because while man is tossed in strife and tumult, God is leading him on; but the success of good is realized by conflict, and the victory is often reached only after a long series of defeats. There are bad triumphs and impious successes. What is proposed to us is, to put aside the rule of our own judgments, and to declare that victory is good in itself. The old point of view, that of the conscience, does not surrender without an energetic resistance; and that resistance shows itself in the very words of M. Cousin. His thesis is, that all victory is just. His intention is therefore to _approve_ victory. Why does he say _absolve_? it is the term which he employs. Since the matter in question is to absolve victory, it is placed on trial. It is accused of being, like fortune and fame, at one time on the side of good and justice, at another on the side of injustice and evil. Which then is the party accused? Victory. Who is the advocate? An eloquent professor. Who finally is the accuser? Do you not see? It is the human conscience; the conscience which protests in the soul of the orator against the theory of which he is enamoured, and which forces him to say _absolve_ when he should say _glorify_. And in fact the choice must be made: either to glorify victory, by treading under foot that narrow conscience which sometimes ranks itself with Cato on the side of the vanquished; or to glorify conscience by impeaching the victories which outrage it. It is not sufficient, however, to sacrifice the conscience in order to rescue from embarrassment the philosophy of success. It strikes on other rocks also. The same causes are by turns victorious and vanquished, and it is hard to make men understand that, in conflicts in which their dearest affections are engaged, they must beforehand, and in all cases, take part with the strongest. It will be in vain for the philosopher to say that the Swiss of Morgarten were right, for that they beat the Austrians; but that the heroes of Rotenthurm were greatly in the wrong, because, crushed without being vanquished, they were obliged to yield to numbers, and leave at last their country's soil to be trodden by the stranger;--the children of old Switzerland will find it hard to admit this doctrine. Even in France, in that nation so accustomed to encircle its soldiers' brows with laurel, this difficulty has risen up in the way of M. Cousin. Béranger, when asked for a souvenir of Waterloo, Replied, with drooping eyelid, tear-bedewed: Never that name shall sadden verse of mine.[149] But philosophy would be worth little if it had not at its disposal more extensive resources than those of a song-writer. M. Cousin therefore looked the difficulty in the face. Victory is always good. But how shall young Frenchmen be made to hear this with regard to that signal defeat of the armies of France? Listen: "It is not populations which appear on battle-fields, but ideas and causes. So at Leipzig and at Waterloo two causes came to the encounter, the cause of paternal monarchy and that of military democracy. Which of them carried the day, Gentlemen? Neither the one nor the other. Who was the conqueror and who the conquered at Waterloo? Gentlemen, there were none conquered. (_Applause._) No, I protest that there were none: the only conquerors were European civilization and the map. (_Unanimous and prolonged applause._)"[150] To make the youth of Paris applaud at the remembrance of Waterloo is perhaps one of the most brilliant triumphs of eloquence which the annals of history record. But this rhetorical success is not a triumph of truth. There were those who were conquered at Waterloo; and, to judge by what has been going on for some time past in Europe, it would seem that those who were conquered are bent on taking their revenge. We may infer from these facts that all triumphs are not good, since truth may be for a moment overcome by a false philosophy tricked out in the deceitful adornments of eloquence. But let us admit, whatever our opinion on the subject, that the Waterloo rock has been passed successfully; we have not yet pointed out the main difficulty which rises up in the way of this system. If victory is good, it seems at first sight that defeat is bad. But defeat is the necessary condition of victory; and being the condition of good, it seems therefore that it also is good; and the mind comes logically to this conclusion: "Victory is good;--defeat is good, since it is the condition of victory;--all is good." We set out with the glorification of victory, and, lo! we are arrived at the glorification of fact. All that is, has the right to be; in the eyes of the modern savant whatever is, is right. M. Cousin laid down the principle; he laid it down in a general manner in his philosophical eclecticism, of which it was easy to make use, as has in fact been done, in a sense contrary to his real intentions. Our young critics, wasting an inheritance of which they do not appear always to recognize the origin, are doing nothing else, very often, than catching as they die away the last vibrations of that surpassing eloquence. In the eyes of the modern savant, everything is right and good: such is the axiom for which the labors of more than one modern historian had prepared us. We are to seek for the relation of facts one to another, that is to explain; and all that we explain, we must approve. Let us follow out this thought in a few examples. It was necessary that Louis XVI should be beheaded and the guillotine permanently set up, in order to manifest the result of the disorders of Louis XIV, of the shameful excesses of Louis XV, and of the licentious immorality of French society. It was necessary for Louis XIV to be an adulterer, Louis XV a debauchee, the clergy corrupt, and the nobility depraved, to bring about the shocks of the revolution. The facts mutually correspond; I explain, and I approve. In the eyes of the modern savant everything is right. It was necessary that Buonaparte should throw the _Corps législatif_ out of the window, that he should let loose his armies upon Europe, and leave thousands of dead bodies in the snows of Russia, in order to end the revolution, and extinguish the restless ardor of the French. It needed the massacres of September, the gloomy days of the Terror, the anarchy of the period of the Directory, to throw dismayed France into the arms of the crowned soldier who was to carry to so high a pitch her glory and her influence. The facts correspond; I explain, and I approve. In the eyes of the modern savant, everything is right. I consider the character of Nero. I take him at the commencement of his reign, when, being forced to sign the death-warrant of a criminal, he exclaimed--"Would I were unable to write!" And then again I regard him after he has perpetrated acts such that to apply his name in future ages to the cruellest of tyrants shall appear to them a cruel injury. What has taken place in the interval? The development of his natural character, Agrippina, Narcissus ... I understand the play of all the springs which have made a monster. As I am out of his clutches, my detestation vanishes with the danger. "I taste the very deep and very pure pleasure of seeing a mind act according to a definite law." I understand, I explain, I approve. In the eyes of the modern savant, everything is right. It would be impossible, Gentlemen, to pursue this reasoning to its extreme limits without offending against the commonest decency. We should have to descend into blood and mire, continuing to declare the while that everything is right. I pause therefore, and leave the rest to your imaginations. Open the most dismal pages of history. Choose out the acts which inspire the most vivid horror and disgust, the blackest examples of ingratitude, the meanest instances of cowardice, the cases of most refined cruelty, and the most hideous debaucheries: thence let your thoughts pass to facts which bedew the eyelid with the tear of tenderest emotion, to the cases of most heroic self-devotion, to sacrifices the most humble in their greatness; and then try to apply the rule of the modern savant, and to say that all this is equally right and good, and that whatever is has the right to be. Open the book of your own heart. Think of one of those base temptations which assault the best of us, one of those thoughts which raise a blush in solitude; then think of the best, the purest, the most disinterested of the feelings which have ever been given to your soul; and try again to apply the rule of the modern savant, and to affirm that all this is equally good, and that all that is has the right to be. I know very well that in general these doctrines are applied to things looked at in the mass, and to the far-off past of history; but this is a poor subterfuge for the defenders of these monstrous theses. Things viewed in the mass are only the assemblage of things viewed in detail. If the distinction of good and evil do not exist for general facts, how should it exist for particular facts? And how can we apply to the past a rule which we refuse to apply to the present, seeing that the present is nothing else than the past of the future, and that the facts of our own time are matter for history to our posterity? These, I repeat, are but vain subterfuges. If humanity is always adorable, it is so in the faults of the meanest of men as in the splendid sins of the magnates of the earth; it is so to-day as it was thirty centuries ago; the god in growing old does not cease to be the same. When the mind is engaged in these pernicious ways, the spring of the moral life is broken, and the practical consequence is not long in appearing. The philosophers of success, having become the philosophers of the _fait accompli_, accept all and endure all; but in another sense than that in which charity accepts all, that it may transform all by the power of love. It is the morality of Philinte: I take men quietly, and as they are: And what they do I train my soul to bear.[151] These instructions are not very necessary. There will always be people enough found ready to applaud victory, and to fall in with the _fait accompli_. But is it not sad to see men of mind, men of heart too, perhaps, making themselves the theorists of baseness, and the philosophers of cowardice? There is still more to be said. From the glorification of success the mind passes necessarily, as we have just seen, to the glorification alike of all that is. It would appear at first sight that the adept in the doctrine must find himself in a condition of indifference with regard to what prejudiced men continue to call good and evil. This indifference however is only apparent. When it is granted that nothing is evil, the part of good disappears in the end. There had been formed in ancient Rome, under pretence of religion, a secret society, which had as its fundamental dogma the aphorism that _nothing is evil_.[152] The members of the society did not practise good and evil, it appears, with equal indifference, for the magistrates of the republic took alarm, and smothered, by a free employment of death and imprisonment, a focus of murders, violations, false witness, and forged signatures. This fact reveals, with ominous clearness, a movement of thought on the nature of which it is easy to speculate. When man casts a vague glance over the world, extinguishing the while the inner light of conscience; when he resigns himself to the things he contemplates without applying to them any standard, what first strikes his attention, as we have said before, is success. And what next? Scandal. Nothing comes more into view than scandal. In a vast city, thousands of young men gain their livelihood laboriously, and devote themselves to the good of their families: no one speaks of them. A libertine loses other men's money at play, and blows out his brains: all the city knows it. Honest women live in retirement; the king's mistresses form the subject of general conversation. Crime and baseness hide themselves; but up to the limits of what the world calls infamy, evil delights in putting itself forward, because _éclat_ and noise supply the means of deadening the conscience; while, as regards the grand instincts of charity, it has been well said that--"the obscure acts of devotedness are the most magnificent." The poor and wretched shed tears in obscurity over benefits done secretly, while folly loves to display its glittering spangles, and shakes its bells in the public squares. There is in each one of us more evil than we think; but there is in the world more good than is commonly known. There are concealed virtues which only show themselves to the eye of the faith which looks for them, and of the attention which discovers them. Bethink you, especially, how the laws of morality set at defiance appear again triumphant in the sorrows of repentance; those laws have their hour, and that hour is usually a silent one. Let a poet of genius defile his works by the impure traces of a life spent in dissipation, and his brow shall shine in the sight of all with the twofold splendor of success and of scandal. But if, stretched on a bed of pain, he renders a tardy but sincere homage to the law which he has violated, to the truth which he has ignored, his voice will often be confined to the sick chamber; his companions in debauchery and infidelity will mount guard perhaps around his dwelling, in order to prevent the public from learning that their friend is a _defaulter_. The ball and the theatre make a noise and attract observation; but men turn their eyes from hospitals, those abodes in which, in the silence of sickness, or amidst the dull cries of pain, there germinate so many seeds of immortality. Yes, Sirs, evil is more apparent than good. The violations of the divine law have more _éclat_ than penitence. And what is the consequence? The man who abandons himself to the spectacle of the world, and who takes that spectacle for the rule of his thoughts, will see the world under a false aspect, and, in his estimation, evil will have more advantage over good than it has in reality. It will appear to him altogether dominant, and will thenceforward become his rule. From the glorification of success, we passed to the glorification of fact; from the glorification of fact, we arrive at last at the glorification of evil. We have seen how is illustrated the morality of victory. In the same current of ideas, a book famous now-a-days, and quite full of outrages to the conscience, supplies us with illustrations of the morality of falsehood. M. Ernest Renan, in his explanation of Christianity, has applied, point after point, the theory which I have just set forth to you. In order to estimate the grand movements of the human mind, he frees himself from the vulgar prejudices which make up the ordinary morals, and abandons himself to the impression of the spectacle which he contemplates. Jesus had a success without parallel. This success was based on charlatanism; and it is habitually so. To lead the nations by deceiving them is the lesson of history, and the good rule to follow. We find falsehood fortunate as matter of fact, we explain it, we approve it. Whither then are we bound, under the guidance of modern science? An irresistible current is drawing us on, and causing us to leave the morals of Philinthe in our rear. We are coming to those which Racine has engraven in immortal traits in the person of Mathan. When once conscience is put aside, all means are good in order to succeed; and the experience of the world teaches us that, to succeed, the worst means are often the best. It is not only at the theatre that such lessons are received; they come out but too commonly from the ordinary dealings of life. Set a young man face to face with the world as it exhibits itself, and tell him to give himself up to what he sees, to let himself be fashioned by life. He will soon come to know that strict probity is a virtue of the olden times, chastity a fantastic excellence, and conscientious scruples an honorable simplicity. Evil will become in his eyes the ordinary rule of life. When the socialist Proudhon wrote that celebrated sentence, "Property is robbery," there arose an immense outcry. Ought there not to arise a louder outcry around a theory which arrives by a fatal necessity at this consequence: "Evil is good"? But do these doctrines exercise any influence for the perversion of public morals? Much; their influence is disastrous. And do the men who profess them believe them, taking the word 'believe' in its real and deep meaning? No; they often do mischief which they do not mean to do, and do not see that they do. They are intoxicated with a bad philosophy, and intoxication renders blind. It is easy to prove that these optimists, who in theory find that everything is right, are perpetually contradicting themselves in practice. Address yourselves to one of them, and say to him: "Your doctrine is big with immorality. You do not yourself believe it; and when you pretend to believe it, you lie." This man who tolerates everything will not tolerate your freedom of speech. He will get angry, and, according to the old doctrines, he will have the right to be so, for insult is an evil. Then say to him: "Here you are, it seems to me, in contradiction with your system. Everything is right; the vivacity of my speech therefore is good. All that is has the right to be; my indignation is therefore a legitimate fact, and it appears to me that yours cannot be so unless you allow (an admission which would be contrary to your system) that mine is not so." If you have to do with a sensible man, he will begin to laugh. If you have met with a blockhead, he will be more angry than ever. This contradiction comes out in every page, and in a more serious manner, in the writings of our optimists. One cannot read them with attention, without meeting incessantly with the protest of their moral nature against the despotism of a false mode of reasoning. The man is at every moment making himself heard, the man who has a heart, a conscience, a reason, and who contradicts the philosopher without being aware of it. Contradictions these, honorable to the writer, but dangerous for the reader, because they serve to invest with brilliant colors doctrines which in themselves are hideous. No, Gentlemen, it is impossible to succeed in adoring humanity, preserving the while the least consistency of reasoning. In vain men wish to accept everything, to tolerate everything; in vain they wish to impose silence on the inner voice: that voice rebels against the outrage, and its revolt declares itself in the most manifest contradictions. The Humanity-God is divided, and the affirmation-- "Everything is right"--will continue false as long as there shall be upon the earth a single conscience unsilenced, as long as there shall be in a single heart . . . . . that mighty hate Which in pure souls vice ever must create;[153] that hatred which is nothing else than the indirect manifestation of the sacred love of goodness. The doctrine that all is equally good, equally divine, in the development of humanity, explains nothing, because humanity, torn by a profound struggle, condemns its own acts, and protests against its degradations. It cries aloud to itself that there are principles above facts, a moral law superior to the acts of the will; and all the petty clamors of a deceitful and deceived philosophy cannot stifle that clear voice. Not only do these doctrines explain nothing, they do not even succeed in expressing themselves; language fails them. "Everything is right and good." What will these words mean, from the time there is no longer any rule of right? How is it possible to approve, when we have no power to blame? The idea of good implies the idea of evil; the opposition of good and evil supposes a standard applied to things, a law superior to fact. He who approves of everything may just as well despise everything. But contempt itself has no longer any meaning, if esteem is a word void of signification. We must say simply that all is as it is, and abandon those terms of speech which conscience has stamped with its own superscription. We must purify the dictionary, and consign to the history of obsolete expressions such terms as good, evil, esteem, contempt, vice, virtue, honor, infamy, and the like. The doctrine which, to be consistent with itself, ought to reduce us to a kind of stupid indifference, does such violence to human nature that its advocates are incapable of enunciating it without contradicting themselves by the very words they make use of. All these extravagances are the inevitable consequence of the adoration of humanity. The Humanity-God has no rule superior to itself. Whatever it does must be put on record merely, and not judged: it is the immolation of the conscience. But on what altar shall we stretch this great victim? Shall we sacrifice it to pure reason, to reason disengaged from all prejudice? Allow me to claim your attention yet a few minutes longer. The Humanity-God in all its acts escapes the judgment of the conscience. What measure shall we be able to apply to its thoughts? None. The God which cannot do evil, cannot be mistaken either. For the modern savant all is true, for exactly the same reason that all is right. The human mind unfolds itself in all directions; all these unfoldings are legitimate; all are to be accepted equally by a mind truly emancipated. Furnished with this rule, I make progress in the history of philosophy. The Greek Democritus affirms that the universe is only an infinite number of atoms moving as chance directs in the immensity of space: I record with veneration this unfolding of the human mind. The Greek Plato affirms that truth, beauty, good, like three eternal rays, penetrate the universe and constitute the only veritable realities: I record with equal veneration this other unfolding of the human mind. I pass to modern times. Descartes tells me that thought is the essence of man, and that reason alone is the organ of truth. Helvetius tells me that man is a mass of organized matter which receives its ideas only from the senses. These two theses are equally legitimate, and I admit them both. I quit now philosophers by profession to address myself to those literary journalists who deal out philosophy in crumbs for the use of _feuilletons_ and reviews. There I find all possible notions in the most astounding of jumbles. "The villain has his apologist; the good man his calumniator.... Marriage is honorable, so is adultery. Order is preached up, so is riot, so is assassination, provided it be politic."[154] I contemplate with a calm satisfaction, with a very deep and very pure pleasure, these various unfoldings of the human mind; I place them all, with the same feelings of devotion, in the pantheon of the intelligence. I cannot do otherwise, inasmuch as there is no rule of truth superior to the thoughts of men, and because the human mind is the supreme, universal, and infallible intelligence. But will our mind be able to entertain together two directly opposite assertions? Will contradiction no longer be the sign of error? We must come to this; we must acknowledge that the modern mind, breaking with superannuated traditions, has proclaimed the principle "that one assertion is not more true than an opposite assertion." We must proclaim that the thinker has not to disquiet himself "about the _real_ contradictions into which he may fall; and that a true philosopher has absolutely nothing to do with consistency."[155] The fear of self-contradiction may be excused in Aristotle and Plato, in St. Anselm and St. Thomas, in Descartes and Leibnitz. These writers were still wrapped in the swaddling clothes of old errors; the light of the nineteenth century had not shone upon their cradles; but the epoch of enfranchisement is come. These things, Gentlemen, are printed now-a-days; they are printed at Paris, one of the metropolises of thought! Mark well whereabouts we are. We must admit--what? that all is true. But, if all is true, there is nothing true, just as if all is good, there is nothing good. There are thoughts in men's heads; to make history of them is an agreeable pastime; but there is no truth. We must not say that two contradictory propositions are equally true; that would be to make use of the old notion of truth; we must say that they are, and that is all about it. The night is approaching, the sun of intelligence is sinking towards the horizon, and thick vapors are obscuring its setting. But wait! If the Humanity-God is always right, it must be that two contradictory propositions can be true at the same time, since contradictions abound in the history of human thoughts. If two contradictory propositions can be true, there is no more truth. What then is our reason, of which truth is the object? We are seized with giddiness. Might not everything in the world be illusion? and myself--? Listen to a voice which reaches us, across the ages, from the countries crowned by the Himalayas. "Nothing exists.... By the study of first principles, one acquires this knowledge, absolute, incontestable, comprehensible to the intelligence alone: I neither am, nor does anything which is mine, nor do I myself, exist."[156] What is there beneath these strange lines? The feeling of giddiness, which seeks to steady itself by language. Here is now the modern echo of these ancient words. One of those writers who accept all, in the hope of understanding all, describes himself as having come at last to be aware that he is "only one of the most fugitive illusions in the bosom of the infinite illusion." One of his colleagues expresses himself on this subject as follows: "Is this the last word of all?--And why not?--The illusion which knows itself--is it in fact an illusion? Does it not in some sort triumph over itself? Does it not attain to _the sovereign reality_, that of the thought which thinks itself, that of the dream which knows itself a dream, that _of nothingness which ceases to be so_, in order to recognize itself and to assert itself?"[157] We are gone back to ancient India. You will remark here three stages of thought. The fugitive illusion is man. The infinite illusion is the universe. The universal principle of the appearances which compose the universe is nothingness. Here is the explanation of the universe! Nothingness takes life; nothingness takes life only to know itself to be nothingness; and the nothingness which says to itself, "I am nothingness," is the reason of existence of all that is. I said just now that the sun was declining to the horizon. Now the last glimmer of twilight has disappeared; night has closed in--a dark and starless night. Yes, Sirs, but there is never on the earth a night so dark as to warrant us in despairing of the return of the dawn. If the modern mind is such as it is described to us, it has lost all the rays of light; but the sun is not dead. The doctrine of non-existence and of illusion is entirely incomprehensible, in the sense in which to comprehend signifies to have a clear idea, and one capable of being directly apprehended. But, if one follows the chain of ideas as logically unrolled, in the way that a mathematician follows the transformations of an algebraical formula, without considering its real contents, it is easy to account for the origin of this theory. If the human mind has no rule superior to itself, if it is the absolute mind, God, all its thoughts are equally true, since we cannot point out error without having recourse to a rule of truth. If all doctrines are equally true, propositions directly and absolutely contradictory are equally true. If all is true, there is no truth; for truth is not conceived except in opposition to at least possible error. If there is no truth, the human reason, which seeks truth by a natural impulse belonging to its very essence, as the magnetized needle seeks the pole,--reason, I say, is a chimera. The truth which reason seeks is an exact relation of human thought to the reality of the world. If the search for this relation is chimerical, the two terms, mind, and the world, may be illusions. A fugitive illusion in presence of an infinite illusion: there is all. You see that these thoughts hang together with rigorous precision. The darkness is becoming visible to us, or, in other words, we are acquiring a perfect understanding of the origin and developments of the absurdity. Put God aside, the law of our will, the warrant of our thought; deify human nature; and a fatal current will run you aground twice over--on the shores of moral absurdity, and on those of intellectual absurdity. These sad shipwrecks are set before our eyes in striking examples; it has been easy to indicate their cause. The consideration of the beautiful would give occasion to analogous observations. The human mind becoming the object of our adoration, we must give up judging it in every particular, and suppress the rules of the ideal in art, as those of morals in the conduct, and truth in the intellect. We must form a system of æsthetics which accepts all, and finds equally legitimate whatever affords recreation to the Humanity-God, in the great variety of its tastes. Then high aspirations are extinguished, the beautiful gives place to the agreeable; and since the ugly and misshapen please a vicious taste, room must be made for the ugly in the Pantheon of beauty. Art despoiled of its crown becomes the sad, and often the ignoble slave of the tastes and caprices of the public. I do not insist further. The pretension of the worshippers of humanity is to make their conscience wide enough to accept all, and to have their intellect broad enough to understand all. They explain all, except these three small particulars--the conscience, the heart, and the reason. Goodness and truth avenge themselves in the end for the long contempt cast upon them; and the first punishment those suffer who accept all, in the hope of understanding all, is no longer to understand what constitutes the life of humanity. Let us not, Sirs, be setting up altars to the human mind; for an adulterous incense stupefies it, and ends by destroying it. Man is great, he is sublime, with immortal hope in his heart, and the divine aureole around his brow; but that he may preserve his greatness, let us leave him in his proper place. Let us leave to him the struggles which make his glory, that condemnation of his own miseries which does him honor, the tears shed over his faults which are the most unexceptionable testimony to his dignity. Let us leave him tears, repentance, conflict, and hope; but let us not deify him; for, no sooner shall he have said, "I am God," than, deprived that instant of all his blessings, he shall find himself naked and spoiled. Before they deified man, the pagans at least transfigured him by placing him in Olympus. At this day, it is humanity as it is upon earth that is proposed to our adoration, humanity with its profound miseries and its fearful defilements. They seek to throw a veil over the mad audacity of this attempt, by telling us of the progress which is to bring about, by little and little, the realization of our divinity. But, alas! our history is long already, and no reasonable induction justifies the vague hopes of heated imaginations. Great progress is being effected, but none which gives any promise that the profound needs of our nature can ever be satisfied in this life. Charity has appeared on the earth; but there are still poor amongst us, and it seems that there always will be. A breath of justice and humanity has penetrated social institutions; still politics have not become the domain of perfect truth and of absolute justice, and there seems small likelihood that they ever will. Industry has given birth to marvels; we devour space in these days, but we shall never go so fast that suffering and death will not succeed in overtaking us. The great sources of grief are not dried up; the song of our poets causes still the chords of sorrow to vibrate as in the days of yore. Progress is being accomplished, sure witness of a beneficent Hand which is guiding humanity in its destinies; but everything tells us that the soil of our planet will be always steeped in tears, that the atmosphere which envelops us will always resound with the vibrations of sorrow. Far as our view can stretch itself, we foresee a suffering humanity, which will not be able to find peace, joy, and hope, except in the expectation of new heavens and a new earth, wherein dwelleth righteousness. If there be no God above humanity, no eternity above time, no divine world higher than our present place of sojourn; if our profoundest desires are to be for ever deceived; if the cries we raise to heaven are never to be heard; if all our hope is a future in which we shall be no more; if humanity as we know it is the perfection of the universe; if all this is so, then indeed the answer to the universal enigma is illusion and falsehood. Then, before the monster of destiny which brings us into being only to destroy us, which creates in our breast the desire of happiness only to deride our miseries; in view of that starry vault which speaks to us of the infinite, while yet there is no infinite; in presence of that lying nature which adorns itself with a thousand symbols of immortality, while yet there is no immortality; in presence of all these deceptions, man may be allowed to curse the day of his birth, or to abandon himself to the intoxication of thoughtless pleasure. But, a secret instinct tells us that wretchedness is a disorder, and thoughtless pleasure a degradation. Let us have confidence in this deep utterance of our nature. Good, truth, beauty descend as rays of streaming light into the shadows of our existence; let us follow them with the eye of faith to the divine focus from whence they proceed. All is fleeting, all is disappearing incessantly beneath our steps; but our soul is not staggered at this swift lapse of all things, only because she carries in herself the pledges of a changeless eternity. "The ephemeral spectator of an eternal spectacle, man raises for a moment his eyes to heaven, and closes them again for ever; but during the fleeting instant which is granted to him, from all points of the sky and from the bounds of the universe, sets forth from every world a consoling ray and strikes his upward gaze, announcing to him that between that measureless space and himself there exists a close relation, and that he is allied to eternity."[158] And are these sublime _pressentiments_ only dreams after all? Dreams! Know you not that our dreams create nothing, and that they are never anything else than confused reminiscences and fantastic combinations of the realities of our waking consciousness? What then is that mysterious waking during which we have seen the eternal, the infinite, the perfection of goodness, the fulness of joy, all those sublime images which come to haunt our spirit during the dream of life? Recollections of our origin! foreshadowings of our destinies! While then all below is transitory, and is escaping from us in a ceaseless flight, let us abandon ourselves without fear to these instincts of the soul-- As a bird, if it light on a sprig too slight The feathery freight to bear, Yet, conscious of wings, tosses fearless, and sings, Then drops--on the buoyant air.[159] FOOTNOTES: [131] _Système de la Nature_, published under the pseudonyme of Mirabaud. [132] _Système de la Nature_, Part I. chap. 1. [133] _Ibid._ Part II. chap. 14. [134] _Vie de Jésus._ Dedication. [135] _Revue des Deux Mondes_ of 15 January, 1860. [136] Plebeii philosophi qui a Platone et Socrate et ab eâ familiâ dissident. [137] _Les philosophes français du XIXe siècle_, chap. XIV. [138] _Hégel et l'Hégélianisme_ par M. Ed. Schérer. [139] Page 854. [140] Page 852. [141] Page 856. [142] Isa. xx. 20. [143] _Essais de critique et d'histoire_, pp. 8 and 9. [144] _Revue des Deux Mondes_, 15 Feb. 1861, page 855. [145] Page 853. [146] Page 854. [147] _Revue des Deux Mondes_ of the 15th Feb. 1861, page 854. [148] _Introduction à l'histoire de la philosophie_. Neuvième leçon. [149] Il répondit, baissant un oeil humide: Jamais ce nom n'attristera mes vers. [150] _Introduction à l'histoire de la philosophie._ Treizième leçon. [151] Je prends tout doucement les hommes comme ils sont, J'accoutume mon âme à souffrir ce qu'ils font. [152] _Nihil nefas ducere, hanc summam inter eos religionem esse._ (Tit. Liv. lib. xxxix. c. 13.) [153] . . . . . . Ces haines vigoureuses Que doit donner le vice aux âmes vertueuses. [154] _Mélanges de Töpffer._ De la mauvaise presse considerée comme excellente. [155] _Revue des Deux Mondes_ of 15 Feb. 1861, page 854.--_Etudes critiques sur la littérature contemporaine_, par Edmond Scherer, page x. et xi. [156] Sa'nkya--ka'rika', 61 and 64. The text 61 in which occur the words "Nothing exists" is hard to understand, but there appears to be no doubt of the meaning of No. 64. _Non sum, non est meum, nec sum ego._ [157] _Etudes critiques sur la littérature contemporaine_, par Edmond Scherer.--M. Sainte-Beuve, p. 354. [158] Xavier de Maistre. [159] Soyons comme l'oiseau posé pour un instant Sur des rameaux trop frêles, Qui sent ployer la branche et qui chante pourtant, Sachant qu'il a des ailes.--VICTOR HUGO. LECTURE VI. _THE CREATOR._ (At Geneva, 4th Dec. 1863.--At Lausanne, 27th Jan. 1864.) GENTLEMEN, Man is not a simple product of nature; in vain does he labor to degrade himself by desiring to find the explanation of his spiritual being in matter brought gradually to perfection. Man is not the summit and principle of the universe; in vain does he labor to deify himself. He is great only by reason of the divine rays which inform his heart, his conscience, and his reason. From the moment that he believes himself to be the source of light, he passes into night. When thought has risen from nature up to man, it must needs fall again, if its impetus be not strong enough to carry it on to God. These assertions do but translate the great facts of man's intellectual history. "There is no nation so barbarous," said Cicero,[160] "there are no men so savage as not to have some tincture of religion. Many there are who form false notions of the gods; ... but all admit the existence of a divine power and nature.... Now, in any matter whatever, the consent of all nations is to be reckoned a law of nature." No discovery has diminished the value of these words of the Roman orator. In the most degraded portions of human society, there remains always some vestige of the religious sentiment. The knowledge of the Creator comes to us from the Christian tradition; but the idea, more or less vague, of a divine world is found wherever there are men. Cicero brings forward this universal consent as a very strong proof of the existence of the gods. The supporters of atheism dispute the value of this argument. They say: "General opinion proves nothing. How many fabulous legends have been set up by the common belief into historic verities! All mankind believed for a long time that the sun revolved about the earth. Truth makes way in the world only by contradicting opinions generally received. The faith of the greater number is rather a mark of error than a sign of truth." This objection rests upon a confusion of ideas. Humanity has no testimony to render upon scientific questions, the solution of which is reserved for patient study; but humanity bears witness to its own nature. The universality of religion proves that the search after the divine is, as said the Roman orator, a law of nature. When therefore we rise from matter to man, and from man to God, we are not going in an arbitrary road, but are advancing according to the law of nature ascertained by the testimony of humanity. It needs a mind at once very daring and very frivolous not to feel the importance of this consideration. In our days atheism is being revived. In going over in your memory the symptoms of this revival, as we have pointed them out to you, you will perceive that the direct and primitive negation of God is comparatively rare; but that what is frequently attempted is, if I may venture so to speak, to effect the subtraction of God. Any religious theory whatever is put aside as inadmissible, and with some such remarks as these: "How is it that real sciences are formed? By observation on the one hand, and by reasoning on the other. By observation, and reasoning applied to observation, we obtain the science of nature and the science of humanity. But do we wish to rise above nature and humanity? We fail of all basis of observation; and reason works in a vacuum. There is therefore no possible way of reaching to God. Is God an object of experience? No. Can God be demonstrated _à priori_ by syllogisms? No. The idea of God therefore cannot be established, as answering to a reality, either by the way of experience or by the way of reasoning; it is a mere hypothesis. We do not, however, it is added, in our view of the matter, pretend (Heaven forbid!) to exclude the sentiment of the Divine from the soul, nor the word _God_ from fine poetry. We accept religious thoughts as dreams full of charm. But is it a question of reality? then God is an hypothesis, and hypothesis has no admission into the science of realities." These ideas place those who accept them in a position which is not without its advantages. When a man of practical mind says with a smile, "Do you happen to believe in God?" one may reply to him, smiling in turn, "Have I said that God is a real Being?" And if a religious man asks, "Are you falling then into atheism?" one may assume an indignant tone, and say: "We have never denied God: whoever says we have is a slanderer!" So God remains, for the necessities of poetry and art. But as we cannot know either what He is, or whether He is, real life goes on in complete and entire independence of Him. The taking up of this position with regard to religion may, in certain cases, be a literary artifice. In other cases it is seriously done. There are certain natures of extreme delicacy, which, touched by the breath of modern scepticism, have lost all positive faith; but their better aspirations, and an instinctive love of purity, guard and direct them, in the absence of all belief, and they do not deny that which they believe no longer. Such a mind is in an exceptional position. Is it yours? and would you preserve it? Keep a solitary path, and do not seek to communicate your ideas to others. Contact with the public, and such an unfolding even of your own thoughts as would be required in carrying on a work of proselytism, would place you under the empire of those laws which govern the human mind in these matters. Now what are these laws? A poet has already answered for us this question: En présence du Ciel, il faut croire ou nier.[161] A famous writer expands the same thought as follows: "Doubt about things which it highly concerns us to know," says Jean-Jacques Rousseau, "is a condition which does too great violence to the human mind; nor does it long bear up against it, but in spite of itself comes to a decision one way or another, and likes better to be mistaken than to believe nothing."[162] Such is the law. We have met with the pretension to maintain the mind independent of God, without either denying or asserting His existence, and we have seen how completely this pretension fails in the presence of facts. The sceptic makes vain efforts to continue in a state of doubt, but the ground fails him, and he slips into negation: he affirms that humanity has been mistaken, and that God is not. But neither does this negation succeed any the more in keeping its ground; it strikes too violently against all the instincts of our nature. The human mind is under an imperious necessity to worship something; if God fails it, it sets itself to adore nature or humanity; atheism is transformed into idolatry. Recollect the destinies of the critical school and of the positive philosophy! Let us now examine, with serious attention, that attempt to _eliminate_ God which is the starting-point in this course along which the mind is hurried so fatally. God is not, I grant, an object of experience. I grant it at least in this sense, that God is not an object of sensible experience. The experience of God (if I may be allowed the expression), the feeling of His action upon the soul, is not a phenomenon open to the observation of all, and apart from determined spiritual conditions. In order to be sensible of the action of God, we must draw near to Him. In order to draw near to Him, we must, if not believe with firm faith in His existence, at least not deny Him. The captives of Plato's cavern can have no experience of light, so long as they heap their raillery on those who speak to them of the sun. I grant again that God cannot possibly be the object of a demonstration such as the science of geometry requires; I grant it fully, I have already said so. Every man who reasons, affirms God in one sense; and the foundation of all reasoning cannot be the conclusion of a demonstration. God therefore, in the view of science formed according to our ordinary methods, is, I grant, an hypothesis. And here, Gentlemen, allow me a passing word of explanation. When I say that God is an hypothesis, I run the risk of exciting, in many of you, feelings of astonishment not unmixed with pain. But I must beg you to remember the nature of these lectures. We are here far from the calm retirement of the sanctuary, and from such words of solemn exhortation as flow from the lips of the religious teacher. I have introduced you to the ardent conflicts of contemporary thought, and into the midst of the clamors of the schools. The soul which is seeking to hold communion with God, and so from their fountain-head to be filled with strength and joy, has something better to do than to be listening to such discourses as these. Solitude, prayer, a calm activity pursued under the guidance of the conscience,--these are the best paths for such a soul, and the discussions in which we are now engaged are not perhaps altogether free from danger for one who has remained hitherto undisturbed in the first simplicity of his faith. But we are not masters of our own ways, and the circumstances of the present times impose upon us special duties. The barriers which separate the school and the world are everywhere thrown down. Everywhere shreds of philosophy, and very often of bad philosophy,--scattered fragments of theological science, and very often of a deplorable theological science,--are insinuating themselves into the current literature. There is not a literary review, there is scarcely a political journal, which does not speak on occasion, or without occasion, of the problems relating to our eternal interests. The most sacred beliefs are attacked every day in the organs of public opinion. At such a juncture, can men who preserve faith in their own soul remain like dumb dogs, or keep themselves shut up in the narrow limits of the schools? Assuredly not. We must descend to the common ground, and fight with equal weapons the great battles of thought. For this purpose it is necessary to make use of terms which may alarm some consciences, and to state questions which run the risk of startling sincerely religious persons. But there is no help for it, if we are to combat the adversaries on their own ground; and because it is thus only that, while we startle a few, we can prove to all that the torrent of negations is but a passing rush of waters, which, fret as they may in their channel, shall be found to have left not so much as a trace of their passage upon the Rock of Ages. I now therefore resume my course of argument. God is neither an object of experience, nor yet of demonstration properly so called. In the view of science, as it is commonly understood, of science which follows out the chain of its deductions, without giving attention to the very foundations of all the work of the reason,--God, that chief of all realities for a believing heart, that experience of every hour, that evidence superior to all proof, God is an hypothesis. I grant it. Hence it is inferred that God has no place in science, for that hypothesis has no place in a science worthy of the name. But this I deny; and in support of this denial I proceed to show that the hypothesis which it is pretended to get quit of, is the generating principle of all human knowledge. Whence does science proceed? Does it result from mere experience? No. What does experience teach us when quite alone? Nothing. Experience, separated from all element of reason, only reveals to us our own sensations. This, a Scotch philosopher, Hume, has proved to demonstration,--a demonstration which constitutes his glory. It is easy, without having even a smattering of philosophy, to understand quite well that science is formed by thought. Now, if we did not possess the faculty of thinking, it would not be given to us by experience. Thought does not enter by the eye or the ear. Imagine a living body not possessed of reason: its eye will reflect objects like a mirror, its tympanum will vibrate to the undulations of the air; but it will have no thoughts, and will know nothing. Is science formed by pure reason? No. No one can say what pure reason is, for the exercise of our thought is connected indissolubly with experience. But, without pausing at this consideration, let us ask what pure reason can do, if deprived of all objects of experience? One thing only, namely, take cognizance of itself. Now the reason, in taking cognizance of itself, only creates logic, that is to say, the theory of the laws of knowledge. Some philosophers, to be sure, have undertaken to prove that reason, by dint of self-contemplation, might arrive at the knowledge of all things. They have maintained that all the secrets of the universe are contained in our thought, and that by just reasoning one may form the science of astronomy without looking at the stars, and write the history of the human race without taking the trouble to search laboriously into the annals of the past. But these attempts to _construct_ facts, instead of observing them, have succeeded too ill to merit very serious attention. Science does not proceed therefore either from pure experience or from pure reason; whence does it really come? From the encounter of experience and of reason. Man observes, and he ascertains that facts are governed according to intelligent design. He creates mathematics, and discovers that the phenomena of the heavens and the earth are ruled according to the laws of the calculus. His thought meets in the facts with traces of a thought similar to his own. If any one of you doubts this, I once more appeal to the almanac. Science, then, has birth only from a meeting of experience with reason; how is this meeting effected? The whole question of the origin of science is here. This encounter is not necessary; it does not result simply from perseverance in observation. The encounter of mind and of facts constitutes a discovery. The thought which has governed nature may remain long veiled from our mind. All at once perhaps the veil is lifted, and the thought of man meets and recognizes itself in the phenomena which it is contemplating. We encounter in this case the exercise of a special faculty, which is neither the faculty of observing nor the faculty of reasoning, but the faculty of discovering. When a man possesses it to a certain degree, we call him a man of genius. Genius, or the faculty of discovering, is the generating principle of science. Still, strange to say, this principle is scarcely pointed out by a great number of logicians. They develop at length the rules of observation and the rules of reasoning; and it seems that, in their idea, the conjunction of reason and experience is effected all alone and of necessity. I taught logic myself in this way for twenty years, until one day, thinking better upon the subject, I was obliged to say to myself (forgive me this rather trivial quotation): Tu n'avais oublié qu'un point: C'était d'éclairer ta lanterne.[163] The meeting together of the understanding and of facts is a discovery; and discovery depends upon a faculty sung by poets, admired by mankind, and too little noticed by logicians--genius. Genius has for its characteristic a sudden illumination of the mind, a gratuitous gift and one which cannot be purchased. But let us hasten to supply a necessary explanation. Genius is a primitive fact, a gift; but the work of genius has conditions, or rather a condition--labor. Labor does not replace genius, but genius does not dispense with labor; nature only delivers up her secrets to those who observe her with long patience. Newton was asked one day how he had found out the system of the universe. He replied with a sublime _naïveté_: "By thinking continually about it." He so pointed out the condition of every great discovery; but he forgot the cause--the peculiar nature of his own intellect. It was necessary to be always pondering the motions of the stars; but it was necessary moreover to be Isaac Newton. So many had thought on the subject, as long perhaps as he, and had not made the discovery. Labor, the condition of discoveries, should have as its effect to recognize the methods really appropriate to the nature of the inquiries, and to keep the mind well informed in existing science. In fact, every scientific discovery supposes a series of previous discoveries which have brought the mind to the point at which it is possible to see something new. For this reason it is that a discovery often presents itself to two or three minds at once, when there are found, at the same epoch, two or three minds endowed with the same power. They see all together because the onward progress of science has brought them to the same summit: this is the condition; and because they have the same power of vision: this is the cause. There is therefore a method for putting ourselves on the road to discovery, but no method for making the discovery itself. The man of genius sees where others do not see; and when he has seen, everybody sees after him. If, furnished with Gyges' ring, you could gain access to the studies of savants at the moment when a great discovery has just been made, you would see more than one of them striking his forehead and exclaiming: "Fool that I was! how could I help seeing it? it was so simple." Truth appears simple when it has been discovered. Discovery therefore, which has labor for its condition, is the principle of the progress of science. Under what form does a discovery present itself to the mind of its author? As a supposition, or, which is the same thing, as an hypothesis. Hypothesis is the sole process by which progress in science is effected. If we supposed nothing, we should know nothing. In vain should we look at the sky and the earth to all eternity, our eye would never read the laws of astronomy in the stars of heaven, nor the laws of life upon the bark of trees or in the entrails of animals. This is true even of mathematics. The contemplation, prolonged indefinitely, of the series of numbers, or of the forms of space, would produce neither arithmetic nor geometry, if the human mind did not suppose relations between the numbers and the lines, which it can only demonstrate after it has supposed them. The conditions are very clearly seen which have prepared and made possible a fruitful supposition, but the hypothesis does not itself follow of any necessity. It appears like a flash of light passing suddenly through the mind. The carpenter's saw opens a plank from end to end on the sole conditions of labor and time; but the discovery of truth preserves always a sudden and unforeseen character. Archimedes leaps from a bath and rushes through the streets of Syracuse, crying out, "I have found it!" Why? The flash of genius has visited him unexpectedly. Pythagoras discovers a geometrical theorem; and he offers, it is said, a sacrifice to the gods, in testimony of his gratitude. He thought therefore, according to the fine remark of Malebranche, that labor and attention are a silent prayer which we address to the Master of truth: the labor is a prayer, and the discovery is an answer granted to it. When this wholly spontaneous character of discovery is not recognized, and when it is thought that the observation of facts naturally produces their explanation, it must needs be granted that a discovery is confirmed by the very fact that it is made. But this is by no means the case. Hypothesis does not carry on its brow, at the moment of its birth, the certain sign of its truth. A flash of light crosses the mind of the savant; but he must enter on a course, often a long course, of study, in order to know whether it is a true light, or a momentary glare. Every supposition suggested by observation must be confirmed by its agreement with the data of experience. Let us listen to a great discoverer-- Kepler. He is giving an account of the discovery of one of the laws which have immortalized his name. "After I had found the real dimensions of the orbits, thanks to the observations of Brahe and the sustained effort of a long course of labor, I at length discovered the proportion of the periodic times to the extent of these orbits. And if you would like to know the precise date of the discovery,--it was on the eighth day of March in this year 1618 that,--first of all conceived in my mind, then awkwardly essayed by calculations, rejected in consequence as false, then reproduced on the fifteenth of May with fresh energy,--it rose at last above the darkness of my understanding, so fully confirmed by my labor of seventeen years upon Brahe's observations, and by my own meditations perfectly agreeing with them, that I thought at first I was dreaming, and making some _petitio principii_; but there is no more doubt about it: it is a very certain and very exact proposition."[164] All the logic of discoveries is laid down in these lines; and these lines are a testimony rendered by one of the most competent of witnesses. You see in them the conditions of a good hypothesis: Kepler has long studied the phenomena of which he wishes to find the law; he has studied them by himself, and by means of the discoveries of his predecessor Brahe. The law has presented itself to his mind at a given moment, on the eighth of March, 1618. But he does not yet know whether it is a true light, or a deceptive gleam. He seeks the confirmation of his hypothesis; he does not find it, because he makes a mistake, and he rejects his idea as useless. The idea returns; a new course of labor confirms it; and so the hypothesis becomes a law, a certain proposition. Such is the regular march of thought. An hypothesis has no right to be brought forward until it has passed into the condition of a law, by being duly confirmed. There are minds, however, endowed with a sort of divination, which feel as by instinct the truth of a discovery, even before it has been confirmed. It is told of Copernicus, that having discovered, or re-discovered, the true system of planetary motion, he encountered an opponent who said to him: "If your system were true, Venus would have phases like the moon; now she has none, and therefore your system is false. What have you to reply?"--"I have no reply to make," said Copernicus, (the objection was a serious one in fact); "but God will grant that the answer shall be found."[165] Galileo appeared, and by means of the telescope it was ascertained that Venus has phases like the moon;--the confidence of Copernicus was justified. The scientific career of M. Ampère, the illustrious natural philosopher, supplies an analogous fact. Trusting, like Copernicus, to a kind of intuition of truth, he read one day to the Academy of sciences the complete description of an experiment which he had never made. He made it subsequently, and the result answered completely to his anticipations. Genius is here raised to the second power, since it possesses at once the gift of discovery and the just presentiment of its confirmation; but these are exceptional cases, and in general we must say, with Mithridates, that-- .... To be approved as true Such projects must be proved, and carried through.[166] We would encourage no one to attempt adventures so perilous, but would call to mind in a great example what is the regular march of science. Newton, after he had discovered the law which regulates the motions of the heavens, sought the confirmation of it in an immense series of calculations. A true ascetic of science, he imposed on himself a regimen as severe as that of a Trappist monk, in order that his life might be wholly concentrated upon the operations of the understanding; and it was not until after fifteen months of persistent labor that he exclaimed: "I have discovered it! My calculations have really encountered the march of the stars. Glory to God! who has permitted us to catch a glimpse of the skirts of His ways!" And astronomy, placed upon a wider and firmer basis, went forward with new energy. It is thus that the human mind acquires knowledge. How then does hypothesis come to be made light of? How can it be seriously said that we have excluded hypothesis from the sphere of science, whereas the moment the faculty of supposing should cease to be in exercise, the march of science would be arrested; since, except a small number of principles the evidence of which is immediate, all the truths we possess are only suppositions confirmed by experiment? The reason is here: Our mind forms a thousand different suppositions at its own will and fancy; and it shrinks from that studious toil which alone puts it in a position to make fruitful suppositions. We are for ever tempted to be guessing, instead of setting ourselves, by patient observations, on the road to real discoveries. It is therefore with good reason that theories hastily built up have been condemned, and Lord Chancellor Bacon was right in thinking that the human mind requires lead to be attached to it, and not wings. Hence the inference has been drawn that the simplest plan would be to cut the wings of thought, without reflecting that thenceforward it would continue motionless. Because some had abused hypothesis, others must conclude that we could do without it altogether. Trivial and premature suppositions have therefore discredited hypothesis, by encumbering science with a crowd of vain imaginations; but this encumbrance would have been of small importance but for the obstinacy with which false theories have too often been maintained against the evidence of facts. If Ampère had found his experiment fail, and had still continued to maintain his statements, he would not have given proof of a happy audacity, but of a ridiculous obstinacy. Genius itself makes mistakes, and experience alone distinguishes real laws from mere freaks of our thought. We have maintained the rights of reason in the spontaneous exercise of the faculty of discovery; but let us beware how we ignore the rights of experience. It alone prepares discoveries; it alone can confirm them. A system, however well put together, is convicted of error by the least fact which really contradicts it. A Greek philosopher was demonstrating by specious arguments that motion is impossible. Diogenes was one of his auditory, and he got up and began to walk: the answer was conclusive. You remember, if you have read Walter Scott, the learned demonstration of the antiquary who is settling the date of a Roman or Celtic ruin, I forget which; and the intervention of the beggar, who has no archæological system, but who has seen the edifice in question both built and fall to decay. Reason as much as you like; if your reasonings do not accord with facts, you will have woven spider's webs, of admirable fineness perhaps, but wanting in solidity. It is time to sum up these lengthened considerations. Science does not originate solely from experiment, nor does it proceed solely from reason; it results from the meeting together of experience and reason. Experience prepares the discovery, genius makes it, experience confirms it. What distinguishes the sciences is not the process of invention, which is everywhere the same; but the process of control over supposed truths. A mathematical discovery is confirmed by pure reasoning. A physical discovery is confirmed by sensible observation joined with calculation. A discovery in the order of morals is confirmed by observation of the facts of consciousness. Therefore it is that between the physical and moral sciences there exists a broad line of demarcation. Moral facts have not less certainty than physical phenomena; but moral facts falling under the influence of liberty, all men cannot perceive them equally under all conditions. An optical experiment presents itself to the eyes, and all the spectators see it alike, if at least they have one and the same visual organization; but a case of moral experience has a personal character, and is only communicated to another person on condition that he puts faith in the testimony of his fellow. In this order of things a man can observe directly only what he concurs in producing. With this reservation, we may say that the control of moral truths is made by experience like that of physical truths. In all departments of knowledge, a thought may be held as true when it accounts for facts. And so, Gentlemen, we conclude that every scientific truth is, in its origin, a supposition of the mind, the result of which is to produce the meeting together of experience and reason, and so to permit the rational reconstruction of the facts. Every system is shown to be at fault by facts, if facts contradict it. When a system explains the facts, we hold it as proved just to the extent to which it explains them. This accordance of our thought with the nature of things is the mark of what we call truth. If you grant me these premises, my demonstration is completed, and it only remains for me to draw my conclusions. It is said that the idea of God can have no place in a serious science, because this idea comes neither from experience nor from reason; that it is only an hypothesis, and that hypothesis has no place in science. I reply, grounding my answer on the preceding reasonings: No science is formed otherwise than by means of hypothesis. For the solution of the universal problem there exists in the world an hypothesis, proposed to all by tradition, and which bears in particular the names of Moses and of Jesus Christ. This hypothesis has the right to be examined. If it explains the facts, it must be held for true. The idea of God comes therefore within the regular compass of science; the attempt to exclude it is sophistical. Let us separate the idea of God from the whole body of Christian doctrine of which it forms part, in order that we may give it particular consideration. What is this hypothesis which bears the names of Moses and Jesus Christ? It is that the principle of the universe is the Eternal and Infinite Being. His power is the cause of all that exists; the consciousness of His infinite power constitutes His infinite intelligence. In Himself, He is _He who is_; in His relation with the world, He is the absolute cause, the Creator. This explanation of the universe is not the privilege of a few savants; it is taught and proposed to all; and this is no reason why we should despise it. If we further observe that this thought has renovated the world, that it upholds all our civilization, that thousands of our fellow-creatures raise their voice to tell us that it is only from this source they have drawn peace, light, and happiness, we shall understand perhaps that contempt would be foolish, and that everything on the contrary invites us to examine with the most serious attention an hypothesis which offers itself to us under conditions so exceptional. The hypothesis is stated. We must now submit it to the test of facts. Where shall we find the elements of its confirmation? Everywhere, since it is the first cause of all things which is in question: we shall find them in nature and in humanity; in the motions of the stars as they sweep through the depths of space, and in the rising of the sap which nourishes a blade of grass; in the revolutions of empires, and in the simplest elements of the life of one individual. There is no science of God; but every science, every study must terminate at that sacred Name. I shall not undertake, therefore, to enumerate all the confirmations of the thought which makes of the Creator the principle of the universe: to recount all the proofs of the infinite Being would require an eternal discourse. We have stammered forth a few of the words of this endless discourse, by showing that, without God, the understanding, the conscience, and the heart lose their support and fall: this formed the subject of our second lecture. We saw further that reason makes fruitless attempts to find the universal principle in the objects of our experience--nature and humanity. Let us follow up, although we shall not be able to complete it, the study of this inexhaustible subject, by showing that the idea of the Creator alone answers to the demands of the philosophic reason. Philosophy, in the highest acceptation of the term, is the search after a solution for the universal problem the terms of which may be stated as follows: Experience reveals to us that the world is composed of manifold and diverse beings; and, to come at once to the great division, there are in the world bodies which we are forced to suppose inert, and minds which we feel to be intelligent and free. The universe is made up of manifold existences; this is quite evident, and a matter of experience. Reason on the other hand forces us to seek for unity. To comprehend, is to reduce phenomena to their laws, to connect effects with their causes, consequences with their principles; it is to be always introducing unity into the diversity. All development of science would be at once arrested, if the mind could content itself with merely taking account of facts in the state of dispersion in which they are presented by experience. Each particular science gathers up a multitude of facts into a small number of formulæ; and, above and beyond particular sciences, reason searches for the connection of all things with one single cause. To determine the relation of all particular existences with one existence which is their common cause; such is the universal problem. This problem has been very well expressed by Pythagoras in a celebrated formula, that of the _Uni-multiple_. In order to understand the universe, we must rise to a unity which may account for the multiplicity of things and for their harmony, which is unity itself maintained in diversity. If you well understand this thought, you will easily comprehend the source of the great errors which flow from too strong a disposition to systematize. Men of this mind attach themselves to inadequate conceptions, and look for unity where it does not exist. The barrier which we must oppose to this spirit of system is the careful enumeration of the facts which it forgets to notice. Materialism looks for unity in inert and unintelligent bodies; it suffices to oppose to it one fact--the reality of mind. Fatalism seeks unity in necessity. Point out to it that its destiny-god does not account for the fact of repentance, for example, which implies liberty, and it is enough. The worship of humanity forces you to exclaim with Pascal--A queer God, that! There is in the bitterness of this smile a sufficient condemnation of the doctrine. To seek for unity, is the foundation of all philosophy. To seek for unity too hastily and too low, is the source of the errors of absolute minds. Absolute minds, however great they may be in other respects, are weak minds, in that they do not succeed in preserving a clear view of the diversity of the facts to be explained. Take the problem of Pythagoras; keep hold of the two extremities of the chain; never allow yourselves to deny the diversity of things, for that diversity is plainly evidenced by human experience; beware of denying their unity, because it is the foundation of reason; then search and look through the histories of philosophy: you will find one hypothesis, and one only, which answers the requirements of the problem. It goes back, as I believe, to the origin of the world; it was glimpsed by Socrates, by Aristotle, and Plato; but, in its full light, it belongs only to men who have received the God of Moses, and who have studied in the school of Jesus Christ. If this hypothesis explains the facts, it is sound, for the property of truth is to explain, as the property of light is to enlighten. The doctrine of the Creator can alone account to us for the universe, by bringing us back to its first cause. The first cause of unity cannot be matter which could never produce mind; the first cause of unity cannot be the human mind, which, from the moment that it desires to take itself for the absolute being, is dissolved and annihilated. The unity which alone can have in itself the source of multiplicity, is neither matter nor idea, but power; power the essential characteristic of mind, and infinite, that is to say, creative power. The Creator alone could produce divers beings, because He is Almighty, and maintain harmony between those beings, because He is One. Thus is manifested an essential agreement between the requirements of philosophy and the religious sentiment; for religion, as we said at the beginning of these lectures, rests upon the idea of Divine power. Reason and faith meet together upon the lofty heights of truth. But let us not enter too far into the difficulties of philosophy. Let us confine ourselves to considerations of a less abstruse order. The Creator is the God of nature. All the visible universe is but the work of His power, the manifestation of His wisdom. The poet of the Hebrews invites to offer praise to the Most High, not only men of every age and of all nations, but the beasts of the field, the birds of the air, and the cedars of the forest, the rain and the wind, the hail and the tempest.[167] In the language of a modern poet: Thee, Lord, the wide world glorifies; The bird upon its nest replies; And for one little drop of rain Beings Thine eye doth not disdain Ten thousand more repeat the strain.[168] And such thoughts are not vain freaks of the imagination. Man, the conscious representative of nature, the high-priest of the universe, feels himself urged by an impulse of his heart to translate the confused murmur of the creation into a hymn of praise to the Infinite Being, the absolute Source of life,--to Him who _is_, One, Eternal,--the first and absolute Cause of all existence. The Creator is the God of spirits. He is not only the God of humankind; "the immense city of God contains, no doubt, nobler citizens than man, in reasoning power so weak, and in affections so poor."[169] But let us speak of what is known to us: He is the God of humankind. All nations shall one day render glory to Him. Mighty words have resounded through the world: "Henceforth there is no longer either Greek or barbarian or Jew; but one and the same God for all." The idols have begun to fall; the gods of the nations have been hurled from their pedestals; they have fallen, they are falling, they will fall, until the knowledge of the only and sovereign Creator shall cover the earth as the waters cover the sea. The Creator shall one day be known of all His creatures; and in each of His creatures He will be the centre and the object of the whole soul; all the functions of the spiritual life lead on to Him. What is truth, beauty, good? We have already replied to the question, but we will repeat our answer. To possess truth is to know God; it is to know Him in the work of His hands, and it is to know Him in His absolute power, as the eternal source of all that is, of all that can ever be, of all actual or possible truth in the mind of His creatures. Truth binds us to Him, "and all _science_ is a hymn to His glory."[170] He is the eternal source of beauty. He it is who gives to the bird its song, and to the brook its murmur. He it is who has established between nature and man those mysterious relations which give rise to noble joys. He it is who opens, above and beyond nature, the prolific sources of art; the ideal is a distant reflection of His splendor. And goodness, again, is none other than He; it is His plan; it is His will in regard of spirits; it is the word addressed to the free creature, which says to it: Behold thy place in the universal harmony. Thus a triple ray descends from the uncreated light, and before that insufferable brightness I am dazzled and bewildered. There is no longer any distinction for me between profane and sacred; I no longer understand the difference of these terms. Wheresoever I meet with good, truth, beauty, be the man who brings them to me who he may, and come he whence he may, I feel that to despise in him that gleam, would be not only to be wanting to humanity, it would be to be wanting to my faith. If my prejudices or habits tend to shut up my heart or to narrow my mind, I hear a voice exclaiming to me: "Enlarge thy tent; lengthen thy cords; enlarge thy tent without measure. Be ye lift up, eternal gates, gates of the conscience and the heart! Let in the King of glory!" All truth, all beauty, all good is He. Where my God is, nothing is profane for me. To ignore any one of those rays would be to steal somewhat from His glory. Oh! the happy liberty of the heart, when it rests on the Author of all good and of all truth. But if the heart is at liberty, how well is it guarded too! What is the most beautiful jewel (if we may venture to use such language) in the immortal crown of this King of glory? Powerful, He created power; free, He created liberty. And to the free creature, in the hour of its creation, He said: "Behold! thou art made in mine own image! my will is written in thy conscience; become a worker together with me, and realize the plans of my love." And that voice--I hear it within myself. Ah! I know that voice well, I know the secret attraction which, in spite of all my miseries, draws me towards that which is beautiful, pure, holy, and says to me: This is the will of thy Father. But I know other voices also which speak within me only too loudly: the voice of rebellion and of cowardice, the voice of baseness and ignominy. There is war in my soul. Enlightened by this inner spectacle, I cast my eyes once more over that world in which I have seen shining everywhere some divine rays; and I see that by a triple gate, lofty and wide, evil has entered thither, accompanied by error and deformity. Then I understand that all may become profane; I understand that there is an erring science, a corrupting art, a moral system full of immorality. But these words take for me a new meaning. There is no sacred evil, there is no profane good; there are no sacred errors and profane truths. Where God is, all is holy; where there is rebellion against God, all is evil. And so the God who is my light is my fortress also; my heart is strengthened while it is set at liberty, and I can join the ancient song of Israel: Jehovah is our strength and tower. Yes, Sirs, God is in all, because He is the universal principle of being; but He is not in all after the same manner. God is in the pure heart by the joy which He gives to it; He is in the frivolous heart by the void and the vexation which urge it to seek a better destiny; He is in the corrupt heart by that merciful remorse which does not permit it to wander, without warning, from the springs of life. God makes use of all for the good of His creatures. He is everywhere by the direct manifestation of His will, except in the acts of rebellious liberty, and in the shadow of pain which follows that evil light which leads astray from Him. Having said that the idea of God the Creator alone satisfies the reason, and raises up, upon the basis of reason, man's conscience and heart, I should wish to show you, in conclusion, that this idea renders an account of the great systems of error which divide the human mind between them. Truth bears this lofty mark, that it never overthrows a doctrine without causing any portion of truth which it may have contained to pass into its own bosom. What then,--apart from declared atheism, from the dualism which has almost disappeared, and from faith in God the Creator,--are the great systems which share the human mind between them? There are two: deism and pantheism. What is deism? It is a doctrine which acknowledges that there is one God, the cause of the universe; but a God who is in a manner withdrawn from His own work, and who leaves it to go on alone. God has regulated things in the mass, but not in detail, or, to employ an expression of Jean-Jacques Rousseau (who came at a later period to entertain better opinions), "God is like a king who governs his kingdom, but who does not trouble himself to ascertain whether all the taverns in it are good ones." The idea of a general government of God which does not descend to details--such is the essence of deism. What is pantheism, in the ordinary meaning of the word? We have already said: it is a doctrine which absorbs God in the universe, which confounds Him with nature, and makes of Him only the inert substance, the unconscious principle of the universe. These are the two great conceptions which wrestle, in the history of human thought, against the idea of the Creator. These two systems triumph easily one over the other, because each of them contains a portion of truth which is wanting to its antagonist. They cannot support themselves because each of them has in it a portion of error. This is what we must well understand. Deism contains a portion of truth; for it maintains a Creator essentially distinct from the Creation, or, according to an expression which I translate from an ancient Indian poem: "One single act of His created the Universe, and He remained Himself whole and entire." This thought is true. What is the error of deism? It is that it makes a God like to a man who works upon matter existing previously to his action, and who puts in operation forces independent of himself, and which he does nothing but employ. In this way a watchmaker makes a watch which goes afterwards without him, because the watchmaker only sets to work forces which have an independent existence, and which continue to act when he has ceased his labor. We work upon matter foreign to us. The workman did not make matter, but only disposes of it, and he can never do more than modify the action of forces which do not proceed from his will, and have not been regulated by his understanding. But the Being who is the cause of all cannot dispose of foreign forces which act afterwards by themselves, since there exists in His work no principle of action other than those which He has Himself placed in it. Deism results therefore from a confusion between the work of a creature placed in a preexisting world, and the work of the Supreme Will which is in itself the single and absolute cause of all. It contains an element of dualism: its God does not create; but organizes a world the being of which does not depend on him. Take what is true in deism--the existence of the only God; remember that the Creator is the absolute Cause of the universe; and the distinction between _ensemble_ and detail will vanish, and you will understand that God is too great that there should be anything small in His eyes: God measures not our lot by line and square: The grass-suspended drop of morning dew Reflects a firmament as vast and fair As Ocean from his boundless field of blue.[171] In other words, take what is true in deism, and accept all the consequences of it, and you will arrive at the full doctrine of the creation. Pantheism recognizes the omnipresence of God in the universe, or, if you like the terms of the school, the immanence of God; this is its portion of truth. When I open the Hindoos' songs of adoration, and find therein the unlimited enumeration of the manifestations of God in nature, I find nothing to complain of. But when, in those same hymns, I see liberty denied, the origin of evil attributed to the Holy One, and man cowering before Destiny, instead of turning his eyes freely towards the Heavenly Father, then I stand only more erect and say: You forget that if your God is the Cause of all, He is the Cause of liberty. If liberty exists, evil, the revolt of liberty, is not the work of the Creator. Your system contradicts itself. You make of God the universal Principle, and you are right; make of Him then the Author of free wills, so that He will be no longer the source of evil, and we shall be agreed. Deism and pantheism therefore, pushed to their legitimate consequences, are transformed and united in the truth. And you see plainly that I am not making, for my part, an arbitrary selection in these systems. I am walking by one sole light, the light which has been given to us, and which serves me everywhere as a guiding clue:--The Lord is God, and there is no other God but He. Such, Gentlemen, is the fundamental truth on which rests all religion, and all philosophy capable of accounting for facts. Such is the grand cause which claims all the efforts which we are wasting too often in barren conflicts--the cause of God. But do I say the truth? Is it the cause of God which is at stake? When a surgeon, by a successful operation, has restored sight to a blind man, we are not wont to say that he has rendered a service to the sun. This cause is our own; it is that of society at large, it is that of families, that of individuals; it is the cause which concerns our dignity, our happiness; it is the cause of all, even of those who attack it in words of which they do not calculate the import, and who, were they to succeed in banishing God from the public conscience, would, with us, recoil in terror at sight of the frightful abysses into which we all should fall together. It is time to sum up these considerations. Inert and unintelligent matter is not the cause of life and intelligence. Human consciences would be plunged in irremediable misery, if ever they could be persuaded that there is nothing superior to man. The universe is the work of wisdom and of power; it is the creation of the Infinite Mind. What can still be wanting to our hearts? The thought that God desires our good,--that He loves us. If it is so, we shall be able to understand that our cause is His, that He is not an impassible sun whose rays fall on us with indifference, but a Father who is moved at our sorrows, and who would have us find joy and peace in Him. This will be the subject of our next and concluding lecture. FOOTNOTES: [160] Firmissimum hoc afferri videtur, cur deos esse credamus, quod nulla gens tam fera, nemo omnium tam sit immanis, cujus mentem non imbuerit deorum opinio. Multi de diis prava sentiunt, id enim vitioso more effici solet; omnes tamen esse vim et naturam divinam arbitrantur.... Omni autem in re consentio omnium gentium, lex naturæ putanda est.--_Tuscul._ i. 13. [161] _In presence of Heaven, we must believe or deny._ See Lecture III. [162] _Profession de foi du vicaire Savoyard._ [163] Thou hadst only forgotten one point, And that was, to light thy lantern. [164] _Harmonices mundi libri quinque_. [165] The authenticity of this reply is disputed; M. Arago gives it in different terms; but the question is of small consequence here as one of historical criticism, my object being not to establish a fact, but to put an idea in a strong light by means of an example. [166] .... Pour être approuvés De semblables projets veulent être achevés. [167] Ps. cxlviii. [168] Le monde entier te glorifie, L'oiseau te chante sur son nid; Et pour une goutte de pluie Des milliers d'êtres t'ont beni. [169] Albert de Haller. _Lettres sur les vérités les plus importantes de la révélation_. Lettre 2. [170] Et toute la _science_ est un hymne à sa gloire. [171] Dieu ne mesure pas nos sorts à l'étendue. La goutte de rosée à l'herbe suspendue Y réfléchit un ciel aussi vaste, aussi pur Que l'immense Océan dans ses plaines d'azur. LAMARTINE. LECTURE VII. _THE FATHER._ (At Geneva, 8th Dec. 1863.--At Lausanne, 1st Feb. 1864.) GENTLEMEN, We have proposed for solution the problem which includes all others whatsoever--the problem of the universe. What are the laws which govern the universe? They are those which are the objects of science, taking that word in its largest and most general meaning. What is the cause of the universe? The eternal power of the Infinite Mind. These are the two answers which we have hitherto obtained, but, as we have explained, a study is not complete if it confine itself to these two answers. When we know the law and the cause of an object submitted to our study, we further look for the end designed. This is no freak of our fancy, but the direct result of the constitution of our understanding. The universe is the creation of God. What is the design of the creation? I answer: the design of the creation is the happiness of spirits. Nature is made for the spiritual beings to which it offers the condition of their life and development; spiritual beings are made for felicity. The moving spring of infinite power is goodness: this is my thesis. If I succeed in establishing it, it will follow that we shall in imagination see issuing from the supreme unity of the Infinite Being three rays: the power which creates the being of things; the intelligence which orders them; and the love which conducts them to their destination. It will also follow that I shall have justified the title under which these Lectures were announced: Power and wisdom are attributes of the Creator; the Father reveals Himself in goodness. What shall be our method? Can we enter into the counsels of God? By what means? To place our understanding in the midst of the Divine consciousness, there to behold the spring of the determinations of the Infinite Being, were an attempt so far exceeding our capacity, that it is impossible to point out any means whatever by which it could be made. This would be to conceive of God in His eternal essence, independently of His relation to the universe, to nature, and to our reason. I do not say merely that the attempt would be fruitless; I say that we have no means of attempting this metaphysical adventure. But might we not, in looking at the work of God, discern in it the evidence of its design? This is a process which we often follow in regard to our fellow-creatures. Do we wish to know the object which a man has in view in his labor? He may himself disclose that object to us directly in words, or we may endeavor to discover it. We watch him at work, and by observing the way in which he proceeds we sometimes come to know what his thoughts are, because we find ourselves in presence of the work of a mind, and we ourselves are mind. Can we in the same way, by looking at the universe, that grand work, succeed in discovering its end? The way on which we are entering raises two objections, which proceed from the difficulties felt by two classes of men of opposite views; and our first business will be to rid ourselves of these preliminary difficulties. You will never succeed, it has been said to me, in proving the goodness of God, because evil is in the world. I am not inventing, Gentlemen. A letter containing this challenge has been addressed to me by one of you. It is manifest, since we propose to ourselves to recognize in the work the intention of the Worker, and since our thesis is the goodness of the First Cause of the universe, that evil, in all its forms, sin, pain, imperfection, is the main objection which can be addressed to us. Evil is real; it is a sad and great reality; I am forward to acknowledge it. Any system which would prove that evil does not exist, or, which comes to the same thing, that evil is necessary, that good and evil in short are of the same nature, is an impossible, I had almost said a culpable, system. The strongest minds have worn themselves out in such attempts with no result whatever. The great Leibnitz attempted an enterprise of this nature. His system consisted in extenuating evil as far as possible, and in pronouncing that amount of evil, of which he could not dissemble the existence, to be necessary. He failed. The strong intellectual armor of one of the greatest geniuses the world has ever seen was completely transpierced by the sharp and brilliant shaft of Voltaire. Sad reckoners of the woes which men endure, Sharpening the pangs ye make pretence to cure, Poor comforters! in your attempts I see Nought but the pride which feigns unreal glee! O mortals, of such bliss how weak the spell! Ye cry in doleful accents--"All is well!"-- And all things at the great deceit rebel. Nay, if your minds to coin the flattery dare, Your hearts as often lay the falsehood bare. The gloomy truth admits of no disguise-- Evil is on the earth![172] For once, Gentlemen, we will not contradict our old neighbor of Ferney. Yes, evil is on the earth; and it constitutes, in the question which we are discussing, the greatest of problems, the most serious of difficulties. Let us listen to a modern poet: Why then so great, O Sovereign Lord, Came evil from thy forming hand, That Reason, yea, and Virtue stand Aghast before the sight abhorred? And how can deeds so hideous glare Beneath the beams of holy light, That on the lips of hapless wight Dies at their view the trembling prayer? Why do the many parts agree So scantly in thy work sublime? And what is pestilence, or crime, Or death, O righteous God, to Thee?[173] We have only to put this poetry into common prose to obtain this argument, namely,--The presence of evil in the world is not compatible with the idea of the goodness of God. Here is the objection in all its force. And what is the answer? Simply this, that God did not create evil. It was not He who brought crime into the world. He created liberty, which is a good, and evil is the produce of created liberty in rebellion against the law of its being. I borrow from Jean-Jacques Rousseau the development of this thought. "If man," says he, "is a free agent, then he acts of himself; whatever he does freely enters not into the ordained system of Providence, and cannot be imputed to it. The Creator does not will the evil which man does, in abusing the liberty which He gives him. He has made him free in order that he may do not evil but good by choice. To murmur because God does not hinder him from doing evil, is to murmur because He made him of an excellent nature, attached to his actions the moral character which ennobles them, and gave him a right to virtue. What! in order to prevent man from being wicked, must he needs be confined to instinct and made a mere brute? No; God of my soul, never will I reproach Thee with having made it in Thine image, in order that I might be free, good, and happy, like Thyself. "It is the abuse of our faculties which renders us unhappy and wicked. Our vexations and our cares come to us from ourselves." Such is Rousseau's answer to the objection drawn from the existence of evil. It is a good one. It is so good that it is impossible to find a better. If we are determined not to outrage the human conscience by denying the reality of evil; if God is the sovereign good, and if there is no other principle of things than He; evil cannot be accounted for otherwise than by the rebellion of the creature. But now, Rousseau's answer, excellent in itself and in the abstract, becomes profoundly inadequate, as the citizen of Geneva goes on to develop his theory. Evil comes from the creature; but each individual is not the exclusive source of the evils which he does and suffers. To attribute to each individual, not only the responsibility of his acts, but the origin of the evil germs which exist in his soul, is the untenable proposition of a desperate individualism. There is evidently among men a common property in evil; Rousseau sees it clearly enough, but he makes vain efforts to find in the organization of society and in the condition of civilization the causes of pain and of sin. When one has come to see clearly that the source of evil is in the creature, the close mutual connection of created wills and their relations with nature present a field for long and difficult study; and Rousseau has no sooner discerned the road to truth than he wanders away into byroads in which the solution of the problem escapes him. This problem, Gentlemen, I have the intention and desire of studying some day, if God permit, with those of you who may be willing to undertake it with me. We shall then have to deal with an objection, or rather with a difficulty. But this difficulty, which we cannot now dispose of, must not hinder us from stating our thesis. In every well-conducted study, the propositions to be maintained must be laid down and supported before dealing with objections. If it were maintained that evil is the principle of things, it would be necessary first of all to endeavor to establish the thesis, in which the existence of good would be brought forward, and would constitute the objection. The objection would have to be answered--Why has good appeared in the world? And I would just say in passing, that our libraries are full of treatises upon the origin of evil, and I have never met with one upon the origin of good. It appears therefore that reason has always admitted, by a sort of instinct, the identity of good, and of the principle of being. Our thesis is that the principle of the universe is good. We are going to try to demonstrate it. Afterwards the difficulty, evil, will present itself, of which it will be necessary to seek the explanation. This will be the natural sequel, and the necessary complement of the course of lectures which we are concluding to-day. I pass to another difficulty, another challenge which also has been addressed to me. Your object, Christians have said to me, is to establish that the principle and ground of all things is goodness. This you will not be able to do without departing from your prescribed plan, and entering upon the domain of Christian faith properly so called. In your examination of the universe will you leave out of view Jesus Christ and His work? Do you not know that it is by means of this work that the idea of the love of God has been implanted in the world, and that it is thence you have taken it? Do you think to climb to the loftiest heights of thought, and to make the ascent by some other road than over the mountain of Nazareth and the hill of Calvary? Gentlemen, I declared my whole mind on this subject at first starting. The complete idea of God demands, for its maintenance, the grand doctrinal foundations of our faith. Christian in its origin, firm faith in the love of God the Creator requires for its defence the armor of the Gospel. But before defending this belief, we must first establish it; we must show that it has natural roots in human nature. Christianity purifies and strengthens it, but it does not in an absolute sense create it. The mark of truth is that it does not strike us as something absolutely new, but that it finds an echo in the depths of our soul. When we meet with it, we seem to re-enter into the possession of our patrimony. The Cross of Jesus Christ is without all contradiction the most transcendent proof of the mercy of the Creator; but the Cross of Jesus Christ rather warrants the Christian in believing in the Divine love than gives him the idea of it. We must distinguish in the Gospel between the universal religion which it has restored, and the act itself of that restoration, which constitutes the Gospel in the special sense of the word. Now what I am here maintaining is the fact of the existence in modern society of the elements of the universal religion. I am far from sharing in the illusions of my fellow-countryman Rousseau, when he affirms that even if he had lived in a desert isle, and had never known a fellow-man, he would nevertheless have been able to write the _Profession de foi du Vicaire Savoyard_. I know very well that if I were a Brahmin, born at the foot of the Himalayas, or a Chinese mandarin, I should not be able to say all that I am saying respecting the goodness of God. The light which we have received--I know whence it radiates; but, by the help of that light, I seek its kindred rays everywhere, and everywhere I find them in humanity. Let us endeavor, then, according to our plan, to recognize in the universe the marks of the Divine goodness. Let us first of all interrogate the human soul, which is certainly one of the essential elements of the world; and let us interrogate it with regard to the great fact of religion. The universal religion presents to observation two principal forms of mental experience: the sense of the necessity for appeasing the Divine justice, and the sense of the necessity for obtaining the help of God. The sense of the necessity for appeasing justice reveals itself in sacrifices. There are sacrifices which are merely offerings of gratitude, and freewill gifts of love. But when you see the blood of animals flowing in the temples, and not seldom human blood gushing forth upon the altars, you will be unable to escape the conviction that man, in presenting himself before the Deity, feels constrained to appease a justice which threatens him. The sense of the need of help shows itself in prayer; and this must be the especial object of our study, because it is in the fact of religious invocation that we shall encounter the idea, obscure perhaps, but real, of the goodness of the First Cause of the universe. Prayer is a fact of the universal religion. Whence is it that we derive a large part of what knowledge we have of the ancient civilizations of India and Egypt? From ruins: and the chief of these ruins are the ruins of temples, that is to say, of houses of prayer. Would we go further back than these monuments of stone? I interrogate those pioneers of science who are searching for the traces of antiquity in old languages,--in the ruins of speech. I inquire, for example, of my learned fellow-countryman, M. Adolphe Pictet: "You who have studied, with patient care, the first origins of our race--what have you discovered in the way of religion?" He replies: "When I have gone as far back as historical speculations can carry us by the aid of language, it appears to me that I no longer see temples built by the hand of man, but, beneath the open vault of heaven, I see our earliest ancestors sending up together the chant of prayer and the flame of sacrifice."[174] And now, from this remote antiquity, I come down to the paganism, in which modern civilization had its beginning. Tertullian teaches us that the pagans, seeming to forget their idols, and to offer a spontaneous testimony to the truth, were often wont to exclaim--Great God! Good God! What in their mind was the order of these two thoughts, the thought of greatness and that of goodness? The pediment of a temple at Rome bore this famous inscription, _Deo optimo maximo_; and Cicero explains to us that the God of the Capitol was by the Roman people named "very good" on account of the benefits conferred by him, and "very great" on account of his power.[175] It is the idea of goodness which here appears to be first. But let us go more directly to the root of the question: What do we gather from the universality of prayer? What is it to pray? To pray is to ask. Prayer may be mingled with thanksgivings, and with expressions of adoration, but in itself prayer is a petition. This petition rises to God: and when does it so rise? In distress, in anguish. It is misery, weakness, the heart cast down, the failing will, which unite to raise from earth to heaven that long cry which resounds across all the pages of history: Help!--I analyze this fact, and inquire what it means. A request is made, and for what? For strength, for tranquillity, for peace; for happiness under all its forms. And of whom is happiness asked? Of goodness. Justice is appeased, power is dreaded, but it is goodness which is invoked. It is so in human relations. The man who supplicates the fiercest tyrant only does so because he supposes that a fibre of goodness may still vibrate in that savage heart. Take from him that thought; persuade him that the last gleam of pity is extinct in the heart to which he appeals, and you will arrest the prayer on the lips of the suppliant. There will remain for him only the silence of despair, or the heroism of resignation. To sum up:--Religion is a universal fact. "There is no religion without prayer," said Voltaire, and he never said better. There is no prayer without a confused, perhaps, but real, conviction of the goodness of the First Cause of the universe. If you could stifle in man's heart the feeling that the Principle of things is good, you would silence over the whole globe that voice of prayer which is ever rising to God. Thus humanity itself testifies to the truth for which I am contending. Humanity prays; it believes therefore in the goodness of God. This fact is an argument. The heart of man is organized to believe that God is good: it is the mark set by the Worker Himself upon His work. Let us study now another of the elements of the universe. We have heard the answer of man's heart; let us ask for the answer of reason. Has reason nothing to tell us respecting the intentions of the Creator? Let us place it in presence of the idea of God--of the Infinite Being, and see what it will be able to teach us. To attain my object, I must explain more particularly than as yet I have done, a word rendered frivolous by the levity of our heart, a word defiled by the disorder of our passions, and too often by the unworthiness, and worse, of poets and novelists, but which still, in its virgin purity, is ever protesting against the outrages to which it has been subjected: that word is _love_. This word has two principal meanings. In the Platonic sense of it, it is the search after what is beautiful, great, noble, pure,--after what, as being of the very real nature of the soul, attracts, fills, and delights it. But there is another sort of love, which does not pursue greatness and beauty, but which gives itself; a love which seeks the wretched to enrich him, the poor to make him happy, the fallen to raise him up. These two kinds of love seem to follow different and even contrary laws. Here, for instance, is a description of what often occurs in a large city.[176] A man leaves his house in the evening in order to be present at performances in which I am willing to believe that everything bears the stamp of nobleness and grandeur, or at least of a pure and wholesome taste. He experiences keen enjoyment, and that of an elevated kind. The spectacle over, he returns to his dwelling, and at a still later hour he retires at length to his repose. He has not long extinguished his luxurious tapers, perhaps, when other men, who have slept while others were seeking amusement, rise before daylight, and, lighting their small lanterns, go forth to succor the unfortunate, without witnesses and without ostentation. I have taken this example from Xavier de Maistre. Let me give you another from scenes more familiar to ourselves. You know those pure summer mornings, when one may truly say that the Alp smiles and that the mountain invites. A young man quits his dwelling at the first dawning of the day, in his hand the tourist's staff, and his countenance beaming with joy. He starts on a mountain excursion. All day long he quaffs the pure air with delight, revels in the freedom of the pasture-grounds, in the view of the lofty summits and of the distant horizons. He reposes in the shade of the forest, drinks at the spring from the rock, and when he has gazed on the Alpine chain resplendent in the radiance of the setting sun, he lingers still to see-- Twilight its farewell to the hills delaying.[177] Noble enjoyments! This young man enjoys because he loves. The spectacle of the creation speaks to his heart and elevates his thoughts. He loves that enchanting nature, which blends in a marvellous union the impressions which in human relations are produced by the strong man's majesty and the maiden's sweetest smile. On this same summer-day, another man has also risen before the sun. He is devoted to the assuaging of human miseries, and he has had much to do. He has mounted gloomy staircases; he has entered dark chambers; he has spent time in hospitals, in the midst of the pains of sickness; he has come, in prisons, to the relief of pains which are sadder still. Day, as it dawned, gilded the summits of the Alps, but he saw not that pure light of the morning. Day, as it advanced, penetrated into the valleys, but he did not notice its progress. The sun set in his glory, but he had no opportunity to admire either the bright reflection of the waters, or the rosy tint of the mountains. And yet he too is joyful because he loves. He loves the fulfilment of stern duty, he loves poverty solaced, and suffering alleviated. Here are the two kinds of love. The disciple of Plato rises, far from the vulgarities of life, into the lofty regions of the ideal, and feeds on beauty. Vincent de Paul takes the place of a convict at the galleys that he may restore a father to his children. These two kinds of love seem to us to be contrary one to the other: the one seeks itself, and the other gives itself. Still they are both necessary to life, for in order to give we must receive. In the accomplishment of the works of goodness, the soul would be impoverished and would end by drying up in a purely mechanical exercise of beneficence, had it no spring from which to draw forth the living waters. Man must himself find joy in order to diffuse it amongst his fellows. But mark the incomparable marvel of the spiritual order of things! The love which gives itself is able to find its worthiest object and its purest satisfaction in the very act of kindness. There is joy in self-devotion; there is happiness in self-sacrifice: the fountain furnishes its own supplies. Thus are harmonized the two contrary tendencies of the heart of man. "It is more blessed to give than to receive;" words these, of Jesus Christ, which, forgotten by the Evangelists, have been recorded by the Apostle St. Paul. And since the thought is a beautiful one, it has adorned the strains of the poets: says Lamartine-- Dost thou happiness resign To another? It is thine-- Larger for the largess--still![178] And Victor Hugo, personifying Charity, makes her speak as follows: Dear to every man that lives, Joy I bring to him who gives, Joy I leave with him who takes.[179] And because this thought is profound as well as beautiful, it has been taken up by the philosophers. "To love," said Leibnitz, "is to place one's happiness in the happiness of another." Here is the connecting link between Platonic love and the love which is charity. Hear how a Christian orator comments upon these words:--"This sublime definition has no need of explanations: it is either understood at once, or it is not understood. The man who has loved understands it; and he who has not loved will never understand it. He who has loved knows that a shadow in the heart of the beloved one would darken his own: he knows that he would reckon no means too costly--watchings, labors, privations--by which to create a smile on the lips of the sorrowful; he knows that he would die to redeem a forfeited life; he knows that he would be happy in another's welfare, happy in his graces, happy in his virtues, happy in his glory, happy in his happiness. The man who has loved knows all this; he who has not loved knows nothing of it:--I pity him!"[180] But the great mistake, which seems peculiar to our nature, is that we are ever connecting happiness with the idea of receiving, and are always thinking of giving as of a loss to ourselves. We do not understand that selfishly to keep is to be impoverished, while freely to relinquish is to be enriched. Yet here is the grand discovery of the spiritual life; and once this discovery made, in order that the spiritual life may attain its object, it only remains to find the strength to put it into practice. Selfishness is wrong, no doubt, but it is not only wrong, it is ignorant, for it looks for happiness where it is not; and it is unhappy, for it wanders from the paths of peace. Let us now apply these considerations to the Infinite Being, and to the problem of the end of the creation. Leaving ourselves to the guidance of the laws of our reason, let us ask what object we shall be able to attribute to the Creator in His work? Will creation be the effect of a necessity? No, Sirs, for in that case everything in the world would be a matter of fate, and liberty would remain inexplicable. If a blind power were directing the Almighty Will, we should return to the worship of destiny. Will creation, then, be the carrying out of a design of which the motive is interest? But what conceivable interest can influence Him who is the plentitude of being? Or will creation be a duty? But whence should come the obligation for the Being who is in Himself the absolute law? Creation can only be conceived of as a work of love. But of what love? Of that which is the manifestation of absolute disinterestedness, of supreme liberty. Allow me to introduce into this discussion some eloquent words, uttered in the year 1848, in the midst of the revolutionary agitations of Paris. The problem which we are debating was treated then, in the presence of an excited crowd, by Père Lacordaire.[181] He is entering upon this question: What can have been the motive of the creation? And he distinguishes between love in the Platonic sense of it, for which he retains the name of love, and the love which gives itself, which he designates by the term--goodness. "Was it then love," he asks, "which impelled the Divine Will, and said to it unceasingly: Go and create? Is it love which we must thus regard as our first father? But, alas! love itself has a cause in the beauty of its object; and what beauty could that dead and icy shade possess before God, which preceded the universe, and to which we cannot give a name without betraying the truth?... There remained something, Sirs, be very sure, more generous than self-interest, more elevated than duty, more powerful than love. Search your own hearts, and if you find it hard to understand me, if your own endowments are unknown to you, listen to Bossuet speaking of you:--'When God,' says he, 'made the heart of man, the first thing He planted there was goodness:' goodness; that is to say, that virtue which does not consult self-interest, which does not wait for the commands of duty, which needs not to be solicited by the attraction of the beautiful, but which stoops towards its object all the more, as it is poorer, more miserable, more abandoned, more worthy of contempt! It is true, Sirs, it is true: man possesses that adorable faculty. It is not genius, nor glory, nor love, which measures the elevation of his soul,--it is goodness. This it is which gives to the human countenance its principal and most powerful charm; this it is which draws us together; this it is which brings into communication the good and the evil, and which is everywhere, from heaven to earth, the great mediating principle. See, at the foot of the Alps, yon miserable _crétin_, which, eyeless, smileless, tearless, is not even conscious of its own degradation, and which looks like an effort of nature to insult itself in the dishonor of the greatest of its own productions: but beware how you imagine that that wretched object has not found the road to any heart, or that his debasement has deprived him of the love of all the world. No: he is beloved; he has a mother, he has brothers and sisters; he has a place at the cottage-hearth; he has the best place and the most sacred of all, just because of all he may seem to have the least claim to any. The bosom which nursed him supports him still, and the superstition of love never speaks of him but as of a blessing sent of God. Such is man! "But can I say, Such is man, without saying also, Such is God! From whom would man derive goodness, if God were not the primordial Ocean of goodness, and if, when He formed our heart, He had not first of all poured into it a drop from His own? Yes, God is good; yes, goodness is the attribute which includes in it all the rest; and it is not without reason that antiquity engraved on the pediment of its temples that famous inscription, in which goodness preceded greatness." Now, to say nothing of the sparkling beauty of these words, let us pause at this definite idea: The Eternal, the first universal Cause of all things, independently of which nothing exists, could only create under the impelling motive of the goodness which gives, and not of the love which seeks requital. This proposition is as clear in the abstract as any theorem of geometry. But we have touched the threshold of the infinite; and we never touch the threshold of the infinite without falling into some degree of bewilderment. Clear as this thought is in the abstract, if we wish to analyze it in its real substance, our view is confused. You understand well that goodness increases in the proportion in which its object is diminished. We are by so much more good as we stoop to that which is poorer and more miserable. What then shall be the infinite goodness? In order to find it, we must infinitely diminish its object: and here we encounter mystery. To diminish an object infinitely is an operation impossible to our thought. This mystery is encountered even in the mathematical sciences. We take a quantity, halve it, and again halve this half, and so on without end, but we shall never obtain the infinity of smallness; for the quantity indefinitely divided will always remain indefinitely divisible. At whatever degree of division we may have arrived, between what remains and nothingness there extends always the abyss of the infinite. So I seek for the object of infinite goodness: that object must be infinitely destitute. I diminish accordingly the existence of the universe: I extinguish all the rays of its beauty; I take from it order, life, measure, color, light; I reduce it until it is nothing but formless matter, a something--I know not what--which has no longer a name. Vain attempt! This nameless something, so long as it is anything, will not be _nothing_. Between it and nothing there will always be the infinite. If the goodness of God is applied to any object which was existing independently of Him, however poor and abject that object be conceived to have been, then God is no longer the unique, the absolute Creator. If imagination will cross the abyss, we shall come of necessity to say--what? that the object of infinite love must have been non-existence. This is what the orator already quoted has done:--"All perfection supposes an object to which to apply itself. The divine goodness therefore requires an object as vast and profound as itself. God discovered it. From the bosom of His own fulness He saw that being without beauty, without form, without life, without name, that being without being which we call non-existence: He heard the cry of worlds which were not, the cry of a measureless destitution calling to a measureless goodness. Eternity was troubled, she said to Time: Begin!" This, Gentlemen, is eloquence. The thought in itself does not bear a rigorous analysis; but do not think that the lustrous beauty of the language is only a brilliant veil to what in itself is absurd. We have arrived at darkness, but it is at darkness visible; the cloud is lighted up by the ray that issues from it. Our goodness, finite creatures as we are, is so much the greater as the object on which it is bestowed is less. Infinite goodness must create for itself an object. It does not love nothingness, but a creature which is nothing in itself, a creature simply possible, which, before owing to it the blessings of existence, shall owe to it that existence itself. The only being that we can represent to ourselves, by a sublime image, as stooping towards nothingness, is He whose look gives life. The creature is willed for itself, or,--to quote the words of Professor Secrétan, addressed to you last year,--the foundation of nature is grace.[182] We ask: What can have been the object of creation? Our reason answers: The Infinite Being can only act from goodness, He can have no other object than the happiness of His creatures. And now I recapitulate. We ask what is the object of creation; and whereas we cannot transport ourselves into the inaccessible light of the Divine consciousness, we question the work of God in order to discern the intentions of the Creator. From the fact that humanity prays, we gather the reply that man has a spontaneous belief in the goodness of the First Cause of the universe. We place reason in presence of the idea of the Infinite Being; reason declares to us that He who is the plenitude of Being could not have created except from the motive of love. We understand that God has made all for His own glory, and that His glory consists in the manifestation of His goodness. These thoughts, in their full light, belong to the Gospel revelation, but they appear, under a veil, in the conceptions which lie at the basis of pagan religions. Without entering the temple of idols, we may bow the knee before the pediment of the ancient sanctuary, and, beneath the open vault of heaven, adore, with the Roman people, that God whose goodness takes precedence of His greatness. The direct consequence of the principles which we have just laid down is that happiness is the object of our existence. Created by goodness, we can have no other end than blessedness. But beware of supposing that we can take for our guide our desire of happiness, and ourselves calculate its conditions. Happiness is our end; it is the will of our Father; but we must let ourselves be conducted into it. If, shutting our ears to the voice which lays upon us commands and obligations, we would take our destinies into our own hands; if we made the search after happiness our rule, understanding happiness in our own way, we should be taking for light fantastic gleams which would lead us into abysses of ruin. The unruly propensities of our heart would lead us to make ourselves the centre of the world. To "live for self" is the motto of selfishness, and the watchword of unhappiness. To live for God is the way to happiness. To live to God, that is to say, over the ruins of our shattered selfishness, to enter into order, to take our place in the spiritual edifice of charity, and to share in the joy which God allots to all His children--this is the end of our creation. Once lifted to the height of this thought, we are able to understand the great struggle which rent the conscience of the ancients, because in their times the light of truth illumined only at intervals the clouds of error which covered the world. There are in man two voices; the one leading him to happiness, the other calling him to holiness. The first impulse of his nature is to start in eager pursuit of mere enjoyment; but ere long the second voice is heard, the voice of conscience, striving to arrest him in his course. If man do not obey her call, conscience becomes his chastiser. Hence arises a painful struggle of conflicting feelings, and the human mind is the subject of a strong temptation to pacify itself by silencing one of the two voices. It is the history of antiquity. Socrates, the wise Socrates, had indeed cried aloud: Woe! woe to the man who separates the just from the useful; and had warned men that happiness may be found apart from what is right and good. Cicero put into beautiful Latin the lessons of the Grecian sage; but the torn heart of man was not long in tearing the mantle of the philosopher. From the thought, full and complete as it is, of Socrates issued two celebrated sects, one of which wished to establish man's life on the basis of duty without reference to happiness; and the other on the basis of happiness without reference to duty. The Stoics attached themselves to duty; but the need of happiness asserted itself in spite of them, and sought satisfaction in the gloomy pleasure of isolation, and in the savage joy of pride. The sage of these philosophers sets himself free, not only from all the cares of earth, but from all the bonds of the heart, from all natural affection. Finally, by a consequence, at once sad and odd, of the same doctrine, the highest point of self-possession is to prove that man is master of himself, by the emancipation of suicide and in the liberty of death. The Stoic philosopher declares himself insensible to the ills of life; he denies that pain is an evil; and, on the other hand, he claims the right to kill himself in order to escape from the ills of existence! So ended this famous school. At the same period, the herd of Epicurus' followers, giving themselves over to weak and shameful indulgences, were thus in fact laboring with all their might (this is Montesquieu's opinion) to prepare that enormous corruption under which were to sink together the glory of Rome and the civilization of the ancient world. This struggle which rent the ancient conscience, and which still rends the modern conscience wherever the goodness of God continues veiled--this great conflict is appeased when we have come to understand that goodness is the first principle of things, that happiness is our end, and that the stern voice of conscience is a friendly voice which warns us to shun those paths of error in which we should encounter wretchedness. The conscience is the voice of the Master; and the same authority which, speaking in the name of duty, bids us--"Be good," adds, in the gentle accents of hope--"and thou shalt be happy." Happiness, duty,--these are the two aspects of the Divine Will. Love is the solution of the universal enigma. Therefore, surprising as the thought may be, it is our duty to be happy. Our profession of faith, when we look above, must be: "I believe in goodness;" and when we enter again into ourselves, our profession of faith should be: "I believe in happiness." And we do not believe in it. Not to believe in happiness is the root of our ills; it is the original misery which includes all our miseries. Triflers that we are, we give ourselves up to pleasure because we do not believe in joy: frivolous, we run after giddy excitement because we do not believe in peace: with hearts corrupt, we abandon ourselves to the devouring flame of the passions, because we do not believe in the serene light of true felicity. But the more the thought of God's love enters our mind, the more will faith in happiness issue from our soul as a blessed flower. Happiness is the end of our being; it is the will of the Father. To each one of us are these words addressed: God loves thee; be happy! If therefore (and I address myself more particularly to the younger of my hearers), if in the depth of your soul you are conscious of a sudden aspiration after true felicity, ah! do not suffer the holy flame to be extinguished, do not talk of illusions; do not, I pray you, resign yourselves to the prose of life; to a dreary and gloomy contentedness with a destiny which has no ideal. Your nature does not deceive you; it is you who deceive yourselves, if you seek your own welfare in the world of foolish or guilty chimeras. Listen to all the voices which speak to you of comfort; be attentive to all the words of peace. Seek, labor, pray, till you are able to utter, in quiet confidence, those words of the Psalmist: In peace I lay me down to rest; No fears of evil haunt my breast: In peace I sleep till dawn of day, For God, my God, is near alway: On Him in faith my cares I roll; He never sleeps who guards my soul.[183] God in the heart--this it is which adds zest to our enjoyments, sanctifies our affections, calms our griefs, and which, amidst the struggles, the sorrows, and the harrowing afflictions of life, suffers to rise from the heart to the countenance that sublime smile which can shine brightly even through tears. FOOTNOTES: [172] Tristes calculateurs des misères humaines, Ne me consolez point, vous aigrissez mes peines; Et je ne vois en vous que l'effort impuissant D'un fier infortuné qui feint d'être content. Quel bonheur, O mortels, et faible et misérable. Vous criez: "Tout est bien" d'une voix lamentable; L'univers vous dément, et votre propre coeur Cent fois de votre esprit a réfuté l'erreur. Il le faut avouer, le mal est sur la terre. DESASTRE DE LISBONNE. [173] Pourquoi donc, O Maître suprême, As-tu créé le mal si grand Que la raison, la vertu même S'épouvantent en le voyant? Comment, sous la sainte lumière, Voit-on des actes si hideux, Qu'ils font expirer la prière Sur les lèvres du malheureux? Pourquoi, dans ton oeuvre céleste, Tant d'éléments si peu d'accord? A quoi bon le crime et la peste, O Dieu juste! pourquoi la mort? ALFRED DE MUSSET, _Espoir en Dieu_. [174] _Les origines indo-européennes, ou les Aryas primitifs._--The above is a _résumé_, not a verbatim quotation. [175] Quocirca te, Capitoline, quem propter beneficia populus Romanus OPTIMUM, propter vim MAXIMUM nominavit. (_Pro domo sua_, LVII.) [176] See the _Voyage autour de ma chambre_ of Xavier de Maistre. [177] _Le crépuscule aux monts prolonger ses adieux._ [178] Tout le bonheur tu cèdes Accroît ta félicité. [179] Chère à tout homme quel qu'il soit, J'apporte la joie à qui donne Et je la laisse à qui reçoit. And Shakspeare-- ".... Mercy ... is twice bless'd, It blesseth him that gives, and him that takes." _Merchant of Venice._--[TR.] [180] Lacordaire. _Conférences de 1848._ [181] _Conférences de 1848_, p. 78. [182] _La raison et le Christianisme_: twelve lectures on the existence of God, one vol. 12mo. In the _Philosophie de la liberté_ (2 vols. 8vo.) M. Secrétan has set forth, in a severely scientific form, the arguments of which the reader has just seen the oratorical expression from the pen of Père Lacordaire. This agreement is worth notice, the dates showing that no communication was possible. [183] Je me couche sans peur, Je m'endors sans frayeur, Sans crainte je m'éveille. Dieu qui soutient ma foi Est toujours près de moi, Et jamais ne sommeille. THE END. * * * * * Cambridge: Printed by John Wilson and Son. 
18377	----	Epochs of Church History EDITED BY THE RIGHT HON. AND RIGHT REV. MANDELL CREIGHTON, D.D. LATE LORD BISHOP OF LONDON THE ARIAN CONTROVERSY. BY H.M. GWATKIN, M.A. DIXIE PROFESSOR OF ECCLESIASTICAL HISTORY IN THE UNIVERSITY OF CAMBRIDGE _SIXTH IMPRESSION_ LONGMANS, GREEN, AND CO. 39 PATERNOSTER ROW, LONDON NEW YORK, BOMBAY, AND CALCUTTA 1908 All rights reserved CONTENTS. PAGE LIST OF WORKS ix CHAPTER I. THE BEGINNINGS OF ARIANISM 1 CHAPTER II. THE COUNCIL OF NICÆA 16 CHAPTER III. THE EUSEBIAN REACTION 41 CHAPTER IV. THE COUNCIL OF SARDICA 61 CHAPTER V. THE VICTORY OF ARIANISM 80 CHAPTER VI. THE REIGN OF JULIAN 105 CHAPTER VII. THE RESTORED HOMOEAN SUPREMACY 118 CHAPTER VIII. THE FALL OF ARIANISM 147 CHRONOLOGICAL TABLE 169 INDEX 173 LIST OF WORKS. The following works will be found useful by students who are willing to pursue the subject further. Some of special interest or importance are marked with an asterisk. (A.) ORIGINAL AUTHORITIES AND TRANSLATIONS. The Church Histories of *Socrates, Sozomen, Theodoret, and (for the Arian side) the fragments of Philostorgius [translations in Bohn's _Ecclesiastical Library_]. *Eusebius, _Vita Constantini_ and _Contra Marcellum Ancyranum_. *Athanasius, especially _De Incarnatione Verbi Dei_, _De Decretis Synodi Nicænæ_, _Orationes contra Arianos_, _De Synodis_, _Ad Antiochenos_, _Ad Afros_. Convenient editions of most of these by Professor Bright of Oxford. [Translations of *_De Incarnatione_ (Bindley in _Christian Classics_ Series) and of the _Orationes_ and most of the historical works, Newman in Oxford _Library of the Fathers_.] Hilary, especially _De Synodis_. Cyril's _Catecheses_ [translation in _Oxford Library of the Fathers_]. Basil, especially _Letters_. Gregory of Nazianzus, especially _Orationes_ iv. and v. (against Julian). Of minor writers, Phoebadius and Sulpicius Severus (for Council of Ariminum). Fragments of Marcellus, collected by Rettberg (Göttingen, 1794). [German translations of most of these in Thalhofer's _Bibliothek der Kirchenväter_. English may be hoped for in Schaff's _Select Library of the Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers_ (vol. i. Buffalo, 1886) in 25 vols.] Heathen writers:--Zosimus (bitterly prejudiced); Ammianus Marcellinus for 353-378 (cool and impartial); Julian, especially _Cæsares_, _Fragmentum Epistolæ_, and _Epp._ 7, 25, 26, 42, 43, 49, 52. (B.) MODERN WRITERS. 1. For general reference:-- Gibbon's _Decline and Fall_ (prejudiced against the Christian Empire, but narrative still unrivalled); Schiller _Geschichte der römischen Kaiserzeit_, Bd. ii. (church matters a weak point); Ranke, _Weltgeschichte_, Bd. iii. iv. General Church Histories of Neander [translation in Bohn's _Standard Library_]; Kurtz (zehnte Aufl., 1887); Fisher (New York, 1887); also Hefele, _History of the Church Councils_ [translation published by T. & T. Clark]. Articles in _Dictionary of Christian Biography_ (especially those by Lightfoot, Reynolds, and Wordsworth), and in Herzog's _Realencyclopädie_ (especially _Mönchtum_ by Weingarten). Weingarten's _Zeittafeln z. Kirchengeschichte_ (3 Aufl. 1888). (2.) For special use:-- The whole period is more or less covered by Kaye, _Some Account of the Nicene Council_, 1853; *Stanley, _Eastern Church_ (best account of the outside of the council); Broglie, _L'Église et l'Empire romain_; Gwatkin, _Studies of Arianism_, 1882. On Constantine, Burckhardt, _Die Zeit Constantins_, 1853; Keim, _Der Uebertritt Constantins_, 1862; Brieger, _Constantin der Grosse als Religionspolitiker_, 1880. On Julian, English account by *Rendall, 1879; German lives by Neander, 1813 [translated 1850]; Mücke, 1867-69, and Rode, 1877. The French books are mostly bad. For the decline of heathenism generally, Merivale, _Boyle Lectures_ for 1864-65; Chastel, _Destruction du Paganisme_, 1850; Lasaulx, _Untergang des Hellenismus_, 1854; Schultze, _Geschichte des Untergangs des griechisch-römischen Heidentums_, 1887; also Capes, _University Life in Ancient Athens_, 1877; Sievers, _Leben des Libanius_, 1868. Biographies:--Fialon, _Saint Athanase_, 1877 (slight, but suggestive); Zahn, _Marcellus von Ancyra_, 1867; Reinkens, _Hilarius von Poitiers_, 1864; Fialon, _Saint Basile_, 1868; Ullmann, _Gregorius von Nazianz_, 2 Aufl. 1867 [translated 1851]; Krüger, _Lucifer von Calaris_, 1886; Eichhorn, _Athanasii de vita ascetica Testimonia_, 1886 (in opposition to Weingarten and others); Guldenpenning u. Island, _Theodosius der Grosse_, 1878; various of unequal merit in _The Fathers for English Readers_. On Teutonic Arianism:--Scott, _Ulfilas, Apostle of the Goths_, 1885; Hodgkin, _Italy and her Invaders_, 1880-85; Revillout, _De l'Arianisme des Peuples germaniques_, 1850. For doctrine, the general histories in German of Baur, Nitzsch, 1870; Hagenbach [translated in Clark's _Foreign Theological Library_], and *Harnack, Bd. ii., 1887; Dorner's _Doctrine of the Person of Christ_ [translated in Clark's _Foreign Theological Library_]; *Hort, _Two Dissertations_, 1876 (on Nicene and Constantinopolitan Creeds); Caspari, _Quellen_, Bd. iii. (on Apostles' Creed). On Athanasius, also Voigt, _Die Lehre von Athanasius_, 1861; Atzberger, _Die Logoslehre des hl. Athanasius_, 1880; Wilde, _Athanasius als Bestrijder der Arianen_, 1868 (Dutch). For the Roman Catholic version of the history, Möhler, _Athanasius der Grosse_, 1844; Newman, _Arians of the Fourth Century_. For short sketches giving the relation of Arianism to Church history in general, *Allen, _Continuity of Christian Thought_, 1884 (contrast of Greek and Latin Churches); *Sohm, _Kirchengeschichte im Abriss_, 1888. NOTE. The present work is largely, though not entirely, an abridgement of my _Studies of Arianism_. The Conversion of the Goths, which gives the best side of Arianism, has been omitted as belonging more properly to another volume of the series. THE ARIAN CONTROVERSY. * * * * * CHAPTER I. _THE BEGINNINGS OF ARIANISM_. Arianism is extinct only in the sense that it has long ceased to furnish party names. It sprang from permanent tendencies of human nature, and raised questions whose interest can never perish. As long as the Agnostic and the Evolutionist are with us, the old battlefields of Athanasius will not be left to silence. Moreover, no writer more directly joins the new world of Teutonic Christianity with the old of Greek and Roman heathenism. Arianism began its career partly as a theory of Christianity, partly as an Eastern reaction of philosophy against a gospel of the Son of God. Through sixty years of ups and downs and stormy controversy it fought, and not without success, for the dominion of the world. When it was at last rejected by the Empire, it fell back upon its converts among the Northern nations, and renewed the contest as a Western reaction of Teutonic pride against a Roman gospel. The struggle went on for full three hundred years in all, and on a scale of vastness never seen again in history. Even the Reformation was limited to the West, whereas Arianism ranged at one time or another through the whole of Christendom. Nor was the battle merely for the wording of antiquated creeds or for the outworks of the faith, but for the very life of revelation. If the Reformation decided the supremacy of revelation over church authority, it was the contest with Arianism which cleared the way, by settling for ages the deeper and still more momentous question, which is once more coming to the surface as the gravest doubt of our time, whether a revelation is possible at all. [Sidenote: The doctrine of the Lord's person.] Unlike the founders of religions, Jesus of Nazareth made his own person the centre of his message. Through every act and utterance recorded of him there runs a clear undoubting self-assertion, utterly unknown to Moses or Mahomet. He never spoke but with authority. His first disciples told how he began his ministry by altering the word which was said to them of old time, and ended it by calmly claiming to be the future Judge of all men. And they told the story of their own life also; how they had seen his glory while he dwelt among them, and how their risen Lord had sent them forth to be his witnesses to all the nations. Whatever might be doubtful, their personal knowledge of the Lord was sure and certain, and of necessity became the base and starting-point of their teaching. In Christ all things were new. From him they learned the meaning of their ancient scriptures; through him they knew their heavenly Father; in him they saw their Saviour from this present world, and to him they looked for the crown of life in that to come. His word was law, his love was life, and in his name the world was overcome already. What mattered it to analyse the power of life they felt within them? It was enough to live and to rejoice; and their works are one long hymn of triumphant hope and overflowing thankfulness. [Sidenote: In contact (1) with the vulgar.] It was easier for the first disciples to declare what their own eyes had seen and their own hands had handled of the Word of Life, than for another generation to take up a record which to themselves was only history, and to pass from the traditional assertion of the Lord's divinity to its deliberate enunciation in clear consciousness of the difficulties which gathered round it when the gospel came under the keen scrutiny of thoughtful heathens. Whatever vice might be in heathenism, there was no want of interest in religion. If the doubts of some were real, the scoffs of many were only surface-deep. If the old legends of Olympus were outworn, philosophy was still a living faith, and every sort of superstition flourished luxuriantly. Old worships were revived, the ends of the earth were searched for new ones. Isis or Mithras might help where Jupiter was powerless, and uncouth lustrations of the blood of bulls and goats might peradventure cast a spell upon eternity. The age was too sad to be an irreligious one. Thus from whatever quarter a convert might approach the gospel, he brought earlier ideas to bear upon its central question of the person of the Lord. Who then was this man who was dead, whom all the churches affirmed to be alive and worshipped as the Son of God? If he was divine, there must be two Gods; if not, his worship was no better than the vulgar worships of the dead. In either case, there seemed to be no escape from the charge of polytheism. [Sidenote: (2) with the philosophers.] The key of the difficulty is on its other side, in the doctrine of the unity of God, which was not only taught by Jews and Christians, but generally admitted by serious heathens. The philosophers spoke of a dim Supreme far off from men, and even the polytheists were not unwilling to subordinate their motley crew of gods to some mysterious divinity beyond them all. So far there was a general agreement. But underneath this seeming harmony there was a deep divergence. Resting on a firm basis of historic revelation, Christianity could bear record of a God who loved the world and of a Redeemer who had come in human flesh. As this coming is enough to show that God is something more than abstract perfection and infinity, there is nothing incredible in a real incarnation, or in a real trinity inside the unity of God. But the heathen had no historic revelation of a living hope to sustain him in that age of failure and exhaustion. Nature was just as mighty, just as ruthless then as now, and the gospel was not yet the spring of hope it is in modern life. In our time the very enemies of the cross are living in its light, and drawing at their pleasure from the well of Christian hope. It was not yet so in that age. Brave men like Marcus Aurelius could only do their duty with hopeless courage, and worship as they might a God who seemed to refuse all answer to the great and bitter cry of mankind. If he cares for men, why does he let them perish? The less he has to do with us, the better we can understand our evil plight. Thus their Supreme was far beyond the weakness of human sympathy. They made him less a person than a thing or an idea, enveloped in clouds of mysticism and abolished from the world by his very exaltation over it. He must not touch it lest it perish. The Redeemer whom the Christians worship may be a hero or a prophet, an angel or a demi-god--anything except a Son of God in human form. We shall have to find some explanation for the scandal of the incarnation. [Sidenote: Arius himself.] Arianism is Christianity shaped by thoughts like these. Its author was no mere bustling schemer, but a grave and blameless presbyter of Alexandria. Arius was a disciple of the greatest critic of his time, the venerated martyr Lucian of Antioch. He had a name for learning, and his letters bear witness to his dialectical skill and mastery of subtle irony. At the outbreak of the controversy, about the year 318, we find him in charge of the church of Baucalis at Alexandria, and in high favour with his bishop, Alexander. It was no love of heathenism, but a real difficulty of the gospel which led him to form a new theory. His aim was not to lower the person of the Lord or to refuse him worship, but to defend that worship from the charge of polytheism. Starting from the Lord's humanity, he was ready to add to it everything short of the fullest deity. He could not get over the philosophical difficulty that one who is man cannot be also God, and therefore a second God. Let us see how high a creature can be raised without making hint essentially divine. [Sidenote: His doctrine; Its merits.] The Arian Christ is indeed a lofty creature. He claims our worship as the image of the Father, begotten before all worlds, as the Son of God, by whom all things were made, who for us men took flesh and suffered and rose again, and sat down at the right hand of the Father, and remains both King and God for ever. Is not this a good confession? What more can we want? Why should all this glorious language go for nothing? God forbid that it should go for nothing. Arianism was at least so far Christian that it held aloft the Lord's example as the Son of Man, and never wavered in its worship of him as the Son of God. Whatever be the errors of its creed, whatever the scandals of its history, it was a power of life among the Northern nations. Let us give Arianism full honour for its noble work of missions in that age of deep despair which saw the dissolution of the ancient world. [Sidenote: Its real meaning.] Nevertheless, this plausible Arian confession will not bear examination. It is only the philosophy of the day put into a Christian dress. It starts from the accepted belief that the unity of God excludes not only distinctions inside the divine nature, but also contact with the world. Thus the God of Arius is an unknown God, whose being is hidden in eternal mystery. No creature can reveal him, and he cannot reveal himself. But if he is not to touch the world, he needs a minister of creation. The Lord is rather such a minister than the conqueror of death and sin. No doubt he is the Son of God, and begotten before all worlds. Scripture is quite clear so far; but if he is distinct from the Father, he is not God; and if he is a Son, he is not co-eternal with the Father. And what is not God is creature, and what is not eternal is also creature. On both grounds, then, the Lord is only a creature; so that if he is called God, it is in a lower and improper sense; and if we speak of him as eternal, we mean no more than the eternity of all things in God's counsel. Far from sharing the essence of the Father, he does not even understand his own. Nay, more; he is not even a creature of the highest type. If he is not a sinner, (Scripture forbids at least _that_ theory, though some Arians came very near it), his virtue is, like our own, a constant struggle of free-will, not the fixed habit which is the perfection and annulment of free-will. And now that his human soul is useless, we may as well simplify the incarnation into an assumption of human flesh and nothing more. The Holy Spirit bears to the Son a relation not unlike that of the Son to the Father. Thus the Arian trinity of divine persons forms a descending series, separated by infinite degrees of honour and glory, resembling the philosophical triad of orders of spiritual existence, extending outwards in concentric circles. [Sidenote: Criticism of it.] Indeed the system is heathen to the core. The Arian Christ is nothing but a heathen idol invented to maintain a heathenish Supreme in heathen isolation from the world. Never was a more illogical theory devised by the wit of man. Arius proclaims a God of mystery, unfathomable to the Son of God himself, and goes on to argue as if the divine generation were no more mysterious than its human type. He forgets first that metaphor would cease to be metaphor if there were nothing beyond it; then that it would cease to be true if its main idea were misleading. He presses the metaphor of sonship as if mere human relations could exhaust the meaning of the divine; and soon works round to the conclusion that it is no proper sonship at all. In his irreverent hands the Lord's deity is but the common right of mankind, his eternity no more than the beasts themselves may claim. His clumsy logic overturns every doctrine he is endeavouring to establish. He upholds the Lord's divinity by making the Son of God a creature, and then worships him to escape the reproach of heathenism, although such worship, on his own showing, is mere idolatry. He makes the Lord's manhood his primary fact, and overthrows that too by refusing the Son of Man a human soul. The Lord is neither truly God nor truly man, and therefore is no true mediator. Heathenism may dream of a true communion with the Supreme, but for us there neither is nor ever can be any. Between our Father and ourselves there is a great gulf fixed, which neither he nor we can pass. Now that we have heard the message of the Lord, we know the final certainty that God is darkness, and in him is no light at all. If this be the sum of the whole matter, then revelation is a mockery, and Christ is dead in vain. [Sidenote: Athanasius _de Incarnatione_.] Arius was but one of many who were measuring the heights of heaven with their puny logic, and sounding the deeps of Wisdom with the plummet of the schools. Men who agreed in nothing else agreed in this practical subordination of revelation to philosophy. Sabellius, for example, had reduced the Trinity to three successive manifestations of the one God in the Law, the Gospel, and the Church; yet even he agreed with Arius in a philosophical doctrine of the unity of God which was inconsistent with a real incarnation. Even the noble work of Origen had helped to strengthen the philosophical influences which were threatening to overwhelm the definite historic revelation. Tertullian had long since warned the churches of the danger; but a greater than Tertullian was needed now to free them from their bondage to philosophy. Are we to worship the Father of our spirits or the Supreme of the philosophers? Arius put the question: the answer came from Athanasius. Though his _De Incarnatione Verbi Dei_ was written in early manhood, before the rise of Arianism, we can already see in it the firm grasp of fundamental principles which enabled him so thoroughly to master the controversy when it came before him. He starts from the beginning, with the doctrine that God is good and not envious, and that His goodness is shown in the creation, and more especially by the creation of man in the image of God, whereby he was to remain in bliss and live the true life, the life of the saints in Paradise. But when man sinned, he not only died, but fell into the entire corruption summed up in death; for this is the full meaning of the threat 'ye shall die with death.'[1] So things went on from bad to worse on earth. The image of God was disappearing, and the whole creation going to destruction. What then was God to do? He could not take back his sentence that death should follow sin, and yet he could not allow the creatures of his love to perish. Mere repentance on man's side could not touch the law of sin; a word from God forbidding the approach of death would not reach the inner corruption. Angels could not help, for it was not in the image of angels that man was made. Only he who is himself the Life could conquer death. Therefore the immortal Word took human flesh and gave his mortal body for us all. It was no necessity of his nature so to do, but a pure outcome of his love to men and of the Father's loving purpose of salvation. By receiving in himself the principle of death he overcame it, not in his own person only, but in all of us who are united with him. If we do not yet see death abolished, it is now no more than the passage to our joyful resurrection. Our mortal human nature is joined with life in him, and clothed in the asbestos robe of immortality. Thus, and only thus, in virtue of union with him, can man become a sharer of his victory. There is no limit to the sovereignty of Christ in heaven and earth and hell. Wherever the creation has gone before, the issues of the incarnation must follow after. See, too, what he has done among us, and judge if his works are not the works of sovereign power and goodness. The old fear of death is gone. Our children tread it underfoot, our women mock at it. Even the barbarians have laid aside their warfare and their murders, and live at his bidding a new life of peace and purity. Heathenism is fallen, the wisdom of the world is turned to folly, the oracles are dumb, the demons are confounded. The gods of all the nations are giving place to the one true God of mankind. The works of Christ are more in number than the sea, his victories are countless as the waves, his presence is brighter than the sunlight. 'He was made man that we might be made God.'[2] [Footnote 1: Gen. ii. 17, LXX.] [Footnote 2: Ath. _De Inc._ 44: [Greek: autos gar enênthrôpêsen hina hêmeis theopoiêthômen]. Bold as this phrase is, it is not too bold a paraphrase of Heb. ii. 5-18.] [Sidenote: Its significance.] The great persecution had been raging but a few years back, and the changes which had passed since then were enough to stir the enthusiasm of the dullest Christian. These splendid paragraphs are the song of victory over the defeat of the Pharaohs of heathenism and the deliverance of the churches from the house of bondage. 'Sing ye to the Lord, for he hath triumphed gloriously.' There is something in them higher than the fierce exultation of Lactantius over the sufferings of the dying persecutors, though that too is impressive. 'The Lord hath heard our prayers. The men who strove with God lie low; the men who overthrew his churches have themselves fallen with a mightier overthrow; the men who tortured the righteous have surrendered their guilty spirits under the blows of Heaven and in tortures well deserved though long delayed--yet delayed only that posterity might learn the full terrors of God's vengeance on his enemies.' There is none of this fierce joy in Athanasius, though he too had seen the horrors of the persecution, and some of his early teachers had perished in it. His eyes are fixed on the world-wide victory of the Eternal Word, and he never lowers them to resent the evil wrought by men of yesterday. Therefore neither lapse of time nor multiplicity of trials could ever quench in Athanasius the pure spirit of hope which glows in his youthful work. Slight as our sketch of it has been, it will be enough to show his combination of religious intensity with a speculative insight and a breadth of view reminding us of Origen. If he fails to reach the mystery of sinlessness in man, and is therefore not quite free from a Sabellianising view of the Lord's humanity as a mere vesture of his divinity, he at least rises far above the barren logic of the Arians. We shall presently have to compare him with the next great Eastern thinker, Apollinarius of Laodicea. [Sidenote: Attraction of Arianism: (1.) For superficial thinkers.] Yet there were many men whom Arianism suited by its shallowness. As soon as Christianity was established as a lawful worship by the edict of Milan in 312, the churches were crowded with converts and inquirers of all sorts. A church which claims to be universal cannot pick and choose like a petty sect, but must receive all comers. Now these were mostly heathens with the thinnest possible varnish of Christianity, and Arianism enabled them to use the language of Christians without giving up their heathen ways of thinking. In other words, the world was ready to accept the gospel as a sublime monotheism, and the Lord's divinity was the one great stumbling-block which seemed to hinder its conversion. Arianism was therefore a welcome explanation of the difficulty. Nor was the attraction only for nominal Christians like these. Careless thinkers--sometimes thinkers who were not careless--might easily suppose that Arianism had the best of such passages as 'The Lord created me,'[3] or 'The Father is greater than I.'[4] Athanasius constantly complains of the Arian habit of relying on isolated passages like these without regard to their context or to the general scope and drift of Scripture. [Footnote 3: Prov. viii. 22, LXX mistranslation.] [Footnote 4: John xiv. 28.] [Sidenote: (2.) To thoughtful men.] Nor was even this all. The Lord's divinity was a real difficulty to thoughtful men. They were still endeavouring to reconcile the philosophical idea of God with the fact of the incarnation. In point of fact, the two things are incompatible, and one or the other would have to be abandoned. The absolute simplicity of the divine nature is consistent with a merely external Trinity, or with a merely economic Trinity, with an Arian Trinity of one increate and two created beings, or with a Sabellian Trinity of three temporal aspects of the one God revealed in history; but not with a Christian Trinity of three eternal aspects of the divine nature, facing inward on each other as well as outward on the world. But this was not yet fully understood. The problem was to explain the Lord's distinction from the Father without destroying the unity of God. Sabellianism did it at the cost of his premundane and real personality, and therefore by common consent was out of the question. The Easterns were more inclined to theories of subordination, to distinctions of the derivatively from the absolutely divine, and to views of Christ as a sort of secondary God. Such theories do not really meet the difficulty. A secondary God is necessarily a second God. Thus heathenism still held the key of the position, and constantly threatened to convict them of polytheism. They could not sit still, yet they could not advance without remodelling their central doctrine of the divine nature to agree with revelation. Nothing could be done till the Trinity was placed inside the divine _nature_. But this is just what they could not for a long time see. These men were not Arians, for they recoiled in genuine horror from the polytheistic tendencies of Arianism; but they had no logical defence against Arianism, and were willing to see if some modification of it would not give them a foothold of some kind. To men who dreaded the return of Sabellian confusion, Arianism was at least an error in the right direction. It upheld the same truth as they--the separate personality of the Son of God--and if it went further than they could follow, it might still do service against the common enemy. [Sidenote: Arianism at Alexandria.] Thus the new theory made a great sensation at Alexandria, and it was not without much hesitation and delay that Alexander ventured to excommunicate his heterodox presbyter with his chief followers, like Pistus, Carpones, and the deacon Euzoius--all of whom we shall meet again. Arius was a dangerous enemy. His austere life and novel doctrines, his dignified character and championship of 'common sense in religion,' made him the idol of the ladies and the common people. He had plenty of telling arguments for them. 'Did the Son of God exist before his generation?' Or to the women, 'Were you a mother before you had a child?' He knew also how to cultivate his popularity by pastoral visiting--his enemies called it canvassing--and by issuing a multitude of theological songs 'for sailors and millers and wayfarers,' as one of his admirers says. So he set the bishop at defiance, and more than held his ground against him. The excitement spread to every village in Egypt, and Christian divisions became a pleasant subject for the laughter of the heathen theatres. [Sidenote: And elsewhere.] The next step was to secure outside support. Arius betook himself to Cæsarea in Palestine, and thence appealed to the Eastern churches generally. Nor did he look for help in vain. His doctrine fell in with the prevailing dread of Sabellianism, his personal misfortunes excited interest, his dignified bearing commanded respect, and his connection with the school of Lucian secured him learned and influential sympathy. Great Syrian bishops like those of Cæsarea, Tyre, and Laodicea gave him more or less encouragement; and when the old Lucianist Eusebius of Nicomedia held a council in Bithynia to demand his recall, it became clear that the controversy was more than a local dispute. Arius even boasted that the Eastern bishops agreed with him, 'except a few heretical and ill-taught men,' like those of Antioch and Jerusalem. [Sidenote: Constantine's interference.] The Eastern Emperor, Licinius, let the dispute take its course. He was a rude old heathen soldier, and could only let it alone. If Eusebius of Nicomedia tried to use his influence in favour of Arius, he had small success. But when the battle of Chrysopolis (323) laid the Empire at the feet of Constantine, it seemed time to get the question somehow settled. CHAPTER II. _THE COUNCIL OF NICÆA._ [Sidenote: State of the Empire.] For nearly twenty years after the middle of the third century, the Roman Empire seemed given over to destruction. It is hard to say whether the provinces suffered more from the inroads of barbarians who ravaged them almost at their will, or from the exactions of a mutinous soldiery who set up an emperor for almost every army; yet both calamities were surpassed by the horrors of a pestilence which swept away the larger part of mankind. There was little hope in an effete polytheism, still less in a corrupt and desponding society. The emperors could not even make head against their foreign enemies. Decius was killed in battle with the Goths, Valerian captured by the Persians. But the Teuton was not yet ready to be the heir of the world. Valerian left behind a school of generals who were able, even in those evil days, to restore the Empire to something like its former splendour. Claudius began by breaking the power of the Goths at Naissus in 269. Aurelian (270-275) made a firm peace with the Goths, and also recovered the provinces. Tetricus and Zenobia, the Gaulish Cæsar and the Syrian queen, adorned the triumph of their conqueror. The next step was for Diocletian (284-305) to reform the civil power and reduce the army to obedience. Unfortunately his division of the Empire into more manageable parts led to a series of civil wars, which lasted till its reunion by Constantine in 323. His religious policy was a still worse failure. Instead of seeing in Christianity the one remaining hope of mankind, he set himself at the end of his reign to stamp it out, and left his successors to finish the hopeless task. Here again Constantine repaired Diocletian's error. The edict of Milan in 312 put an end to the great persecution, and a policy of increasing favour soon removed all danger of Christian disaffection. [Sidenote: Constantine.] When Constantine stood out before the world as the patron of the gospel, he felt bound to settle the question of Arianism. In some ways he was well qualified for the task. There can be no doubt of his ability and earnestness, or of his genuine interest in Christianity. In political skill he was an overmatch for Diocletian, and his military successes were unequalled since the triumph of Aurelian. The heathens saw in him the restorer of the Empire, the Christians their deliverer from persecution. Even the feeling of a divine mission, which laid him so open to flattery, gave him also a keen desire to remedy the social misery around him; and in this he looked for help to Christianity. Amidst the horrors of Diocletian's persecution a conviction grew upon him that the power which fought the Empire with success must somehow come from the Supreme. Thus he slowly learned to recognise the God of the Christians in his father's God, and in the Sun-god's cross of light to see the cross of Christ. But in Christianity itself he found little more than a confirmation of natural religion. Therefore, with all his interest in the churches, he could not reach the secret of their inner life. Their imposing monotheism he fully appreciated, but the person of the Lord was surely a minor question. Constantine shared the heathen feelings of his time, so that the gospel to him was only a monotheistic heathenism. Thus Arianism came up to his idea of it, and the whole controversy seemed a mere affair of words. [Sidenote: His view of the controversy.] But if he had no theological interest in the question, he could not overlook its political importance. Egypt was always a difficult province to manage; and if these Arian songs caused a bloody tumult in Alexandria, he could not let the Christians fight out their quarrels in the streets, as the Jews were used to do. The Donatists had given him trouble enough over a disputed election in Africa, and he did not want a worse than Donatist quarrel in Egypt. Nor was the danger confined to Egypt; it had already spread through the East. The unity of Christendom was at peril, and with it the support which the shattered Empire looked for from an undivided church. The state could treat with a definite organisation of churches, but not with miscellaneous gatherings of sectaries. The question must therefore be settled one way or the other, and settled at once. Which way it was decided mattered little, so that an end was made of the disturbance. [Sidenote: His first attempt to settle it.] In this temper Constantine approached the difficulty. His first step was to send Hosius of Cordova to Alexandria with a letter to Alexander and Arius representing the question as a battle of words about mysteries beyond our reach. In the words of a modern writer, 'It was the excess of dogmatism founded upon the most abstract words in the most abstract region of human thought.' It had all arisen out of an over-curious question asked by Alexander, and a rash answer given by Arius. It was a childish quarrel and unworthy of sensible men like them, besides being very distressing to himself. Had the dispute been really trifling, such a letter might have had a chance of quieting it. Instead of this, the excitement grew worse. [Sidenote: Summons of the council.] Constantine enlarged his plans. If Arian doctrine disturbed Alexandria, Meletius of Lycopolis was giving quite as much trouble about discipline farther up the Nile, and the old disputes about the time of Easter had never been effectually settled. There were also minor questions about the validity of baptism administered by the followers of Novatian and Paul of Samosata, and about the treatment of those who had denied the faith during the persecution of Licinius. Constantine, therefore, invited all Christian bishops inside and outside the Empire to meet him at Nicæa in Bithynia during the summer of 325, in order to make a final end of all the disputes which endangered the unity of Christendom. The 'city of victory' bore an auspicious name, and the restoration of peace was a holy service, and would be a noble preparation for the solemnities of the great Emperor's twentieth year upon the throne. [Sidenote: The first oecumenical council.] The idea of a general or oecumenical council (the words mean the same thing) may well have been Constantine's own. It bears the mark of a statesman's mind, and is of a piece with the rest of his life. Constantine was not thinking only of the questions to be debated. However these might be settled, the meeting could not fail to draw nearer to the state and to each other the churches of that great confederation which later ages have so often mistaken for the church of Christ. As regards Arianism, smaller councils had been a frequent means of settling smaller questions. Though Constantine had not been able to quiet the Donatists by means of the Council of Arles, he might fairly hope that the authority of such a gathering as this would bear down all resistance. If he could only bring the bishops to some decision, the churches might be trusted to follow it. [Sidenote: Its members.] An imposing list of bishops answered Constantine's call. The signatures are 223, but they are not complete. The Emperor speaks of 300, and tradition gives 318, like the number of Abraham's servants, or like the mystic number[5] which stands for the cross of Christ. From the far west came his chief adviser for the Latin churches, the patriarch of councils, the old confessor Hosius of Cordova. Africa was represented by Cæcilian of Carthage, round whose election the whole Donatist controversy had arisen, and a couple of presbyters answered for the apostolic and imperial see of Rome. Of the thirteen great provinces of the Empire none was missing except distant Britain; but the Western bishops were almost lost in the crowd of Easterns. From Egypt came Alexander of Alexandria with his young deacon Athanasius, and the Coptic confessors Paphnutius and Potammon, each with an eye seared out, came from cities farther up the Nile. All these were resolute enemies of Arianism; its only Egyptian supporters were two bishops from the edge of the western desert. Syria was less unequally divided. If Eustathius of Antioch and Macarius of Ælia (we know that city better as Jerusalem) were on Alexander's side, the bishops of Tyre and Laodicea with the learned Eusebius of Cæsarea leaned the other way or took a middle course. Altogether there were about a dozen more or less decided Arianizers thinly scattered over the country from the slopes of Taurus to the Jordan valley. Of the Pontic bishops we need notice only Marcellus of Ancyra and the confessor Paul of Neocæsarea. Arianism had no friends in Pontus to our knowledge, and Marcellus was the busiest of its enemies. Among the Asiatics, however, there was a small but influential group of Arianizers, disciples of Lucian like Arius himself. Chief of these was Eusebius of Nicomedia, who was rather a court politician than a student like his namesake of Cæsarea, and might be expected to influence the Emperor as much as any one. With him went the bishops of Ephesus and Nicæa itself, and Maris of Chalcedon. The Greeks of Europe were few and unimportant, but on the outskirts of the Empire we find some names of great interest. James of Nisibis represented the old Syrian churches which spoke the Lord's own native language. Restaces the Armenian could remind the bishops that Armenia was in Christ before Rome, and had fought the persecutors in their cause. Theophilus the Goth might tell them the modest beginnings of Teutonic Christianity among his countrymen of the Crimean undercliff. John the Persian, who came from one or another of the many distant regions which bore the name of India, may dimly remind ourselves of the great Nestorian missions which one day were to make the Christian name a power in Northern China. Little as Eusebius of Cæsarea liked some issues of the council, he is full of genuine enthusiasm over his majestic roll of churches far and near, from the extremity of Europe to the farthest ends of Asia. Not without the Holy Spirit's guidance did that august assembly meet. Nor was its meeting a day of hope for the churches only, but also for the weary Empire. In that great crisis the deep despair of ages was forgotten. It might be that the power which had overcome the world could also cure its ancient sickness. Little as men could see into the issues of the future, the meaning of the present was beyond mistake. The new world faced the old, and all was ready for the league which joined the names of Rome and Christendom, and made the sway of Christ and Cæsar one. [Footnote 5: 318; in Greek [Greek: tiê].] [Sidenote: The idea of a test creed.] It seems to have been understood that the council was to settle the question by drawing up a creed as a test for bishops. Here was a twofold novelty. In the first place, Christendom as a whole had as yet no written creed at all. The so-called Apostles' Creed may be older than 340, but then it first appears, and only as a personal confession of the heretic Marcellus. Every church taught its catechumens the historic outlines of the faith, and referred to Scripture as the storehouse and final test of doctrine. But that doctrine was not embodied in forms of more than local currency. Thus different churches had varying creeds to form the basis of the catechumen's teaching, and placed varying professions in his mouth at baptism. Some of these were ancient, and some of widespread use, and all were much alike, for all were couched in Scripture language, variously modelled on the Lord's baptismal formula (Matt. xxviii. 19). At Jerusalem, for example, the candidate declared his faith: in the Father; in the Son; in the Holy Spirit; and in one Baptism of Repentance. The Roman form, as approximately given by Novatian in the middle of the third century, was, I believe in God the Father, the Lord Almighty; in Christ Jesus his Son, the Lord our God; and in the Holy Spirit. Though these local usages were not disturbed, it was none the less a momentous step to draw up a document for all the churches. Its use as a test for bishops was a further innovation. Purity of doctrine was for a long time guarded by Christian public opinion. If a bishop taught novelties, the neighbouring churches (not the clergy only) met in conference on them, and refused his communion if they proved unsound. Of late years these conferences had been growing into formal councils of bishops, and the legal recognition of the churches by Gallienus [Sidenote: c. 261.] had enabled them to take the further step of deposing false teachers. Aurelian had sanctioned this in the case of Paul of Samosata by requiring communion with the bishops of Rome and Italy as the legal test of Christian orthodoxy. [Sidenote: 272.] But there were practical difficulties in this plan of government by councils. A strong party might dispute the sentence, or even get up rival councils to reverse it. The African Donatists had given Constantine trouble enough of this sort some years before; and now that the Arians were following their example, it was evident that every local quarrel would have an excellent chance of becoming a general controversy. In the interest, therefore, of peace and unity, it seemed better to adopt a written test. If a bishop was willing to sign it when asked, his subscription should be taken as a full reply to every charge of heresy which might be made against him. On this plan, whatever was left out of the creed would be deliberately left an open question in the churches. Whatever a bishop might choose to teach (Arianism, for example), he would have full protection, unless some clause of the new creed expressly shut it out. This is a point which must be kept in view when we come to estimate the conduct of Athanasius. Thus however Constantine hoped to make the bishops keep the peace over such trumpery questions as this of Arianism seemed to him. Had it been a trumpery question, his policy might have had some chance of lasting success. For the moment, at any rate, all parties accepted it, so that the council had only to settle the wording of the new creed. [Sidenote: Arianism condemned.] The Arians must have come full of hope to the council. So far theirs was the winning side. They had a powerful friend at court in the Emperor's sister, Constantia, and an influential connection in the learned Lucianic circle. Reckoning also on the natural conservatism of Christian bishops, on the timidity of some, and on the simplicity or ignorance of others, they might fairly expect that if their doctrine was not accepted by the council, it would at least escape formal condemnation. They hoped, however, to carry all before them. An Arianizing creed was therefore presented by a score or so of bishops, headed by the courtier Eusebius of Nicomedia. They soon found their mistake. The Lord's divinity was not an open question in the churches. The bishops raised an angry clamour and tore the offensive creed in pieces. Arius was at once abandoned by nearly all his friends. [Sidenote: Eusebius proposes the creed of Cæsarea.] This was decisive. Arianism was condemned almost unanimously, and nothing remained but to put on record the decision. But here began the difficulty. Marcellus and Athanasius wanted it put into the creed, but the bishops in general saw no need of this. A heresy so easily overcome could not be very dangerous. There were only half a dozen Arians left in the council, and too precise a definition might lead to dangers on the Sabellian side. At this point the historian Eusebius came forward. Though neither a great man nor a clear thinker, he was the most learned student of the East. He had been a confessor in the persecution, and now occupied an important see, and stood high in the Emperor's favour. With regard to doctrine, he held a sort of intermediate position, regarding the Lord not indeed as a creature, but as a secondary God derived from the will of the Father. This, as we have seen, was the idea then current in the East, that it is possible to find some middle term between the creature and the highest deity. To a man of this sort it seemed natural to fall back on the authority of some older creed, such as all could sign. He therefore laid before the council that of his own church of Cæsarea, as follows:-- We believe in one God, the Father Almighty, maker of all things, both visible and invisible; And in one Lord Jesus Christ, the Word of God, God from God, light from light, life from life, the only-begotten Son, the first-born of all creation, begotten of the Father before all ages,-- by whom also all things were made; who for our salvation was made flesh, and lived among men, and suffered, and rose again the third day, and ascended to the Father, and shall come again in glory, to judge quick and dead; And in the Holy Spirit. Had the council been drawing up a creed for popular use, a short and simple document of this kind would have been suitable enough. The undecided bishops received it with delight. It contained none of the vexatious technical terms which had done all the mischief--nothing but familiar Scripture, which the least learned of them could understand. So far as Arianism might mean to deny the Lord's divinity, it was clearly condemned already, and the whole question might now be safely left at rest behind the ambiguities of the Cæsarean creed. So it was accepted at once. Marcellus himself could find no fault with its doctrine, and the Arians were glad now to escape a direct condemnation. But unanimity of this sort, which really decided nothing, was not what Athanasius and Marcellus wanted. They had not come to the council to haggle over compromises, but to cast out the blasphemer, and they were resolved to do it effectually. [Sidenote: Persistence of Athanasius.] Hardly a more momentous resolution can be found in history. The whole future of Christianity was determined by it; and we must fairly face the question whether Athanasius was right or not. Would it not have been every way better to rest satisfied with the great moral victory already gained? When heathens were pressing into the church in crowds, was that a suitable time to offend them with a solemn proclamation of the very doctrine which chiefly kept them back? It was, moreover, a dangerous policy to insist on measures for which even Christian opinion was not ripe, and it led directly to the gravest troubles in the churches--troubles of which no man then living was to see the end. The first half century of prelude was a war of giants; but the main contest opened at Nicæa is not ended yet, or like to end before the Lord himself shall come to end it. It was the decision of Athanasius which made half the bitterness between the Roman and the Teuton, between Christianity and Islam to this day. Even now it is the worst stumbling-block of Western unbelief. Many of our most earnest enemies would gladly forget their enmity if we would only drop our mysticism and admire with them a human Christ who never rose with power from the dead. But we may not do this thing. Christianity cannot make its peace with this world by dropping that message from the other which is its only reason for existence. Athanasius was clearly right. When Constantine had fairly put the question, they could not refuse to answer. Let the danger be what it might, they could not deliberately leave it open for Christian bishops (the creed was not for others) to dispute whether our Lord is truly God or not. Those may smile to whom all revelation is a vain thing; but it is our life, and we believe it is their own life too. If there is truth or even meaning in the gospel, this question of all others is most surely vital. Nor has history failed to justify Athanasius. That heathen age was no time to trifle with heathenism in the very citadel of Christian life. Fresh from the fiery trial of the last great persecution, whose scarred and mutilated veterans were sprinkled through the council-hall, the church of God was entering on a still mightier conflict with the spirit of the world. If their fathers had been faithful unto death or saved a people from the world, their sons would have to save the world itself and tame its Northern conquerors. Was that a time to say of Christ, 'But as for this man, we know not whence he is'? [Sidenote: Revision of the Cæsarean creed.] Athanasius and his friends made a virtue of necessity, and disconcerted the plans of Eusebius by promptly accepting his creed. They were now able to propose a few amendments in it, and in this way they meant to fight out the controversy. It was soon found impossible to avoid a searching revision. Ill-compacted clauses invited rearrangement, and older churches, like Jerusalem or Antioch, might claim to share with Cæsarea the honour of giving a creed to the whole of Christendom. Moreover, several of the Cæsarean phrases seemed to favour the opinions which the bishops had agreed to condemn. 'First-born of all creation' does not necessarily mean more than that he existed before other things were made. 'Begotten before all worlds' is just as ambiguous, or rather worse, for the Arians understood 'begotten' to mean 'created.' Again, 'was made flesh' left it unsettled whether the Lord took anything more than a human body. These were serious defects, and the bishops could not refuse to amend them. After much careful work, the following was the form adopted:-- [Sidenote: The Nicene Creed.] We believe in one God, the Father Almighty, maker of all things, both visible and invisible; And in one Lord Jesus Christ, the Son of God, begotten of the Father, an only-begotten-- that is, from the essence (_ousia_) of the Father God from God, light from light, true God from true God, begotten, not made, being of one essence (_homoousion_) with the Father, by whom all things were made, both things in heaven and things on earth: who for us men and for our salvation came down and was made flesh, was made man, suffered, and rose again the third day, ascended into heaven, cometh to judge quick and dead; And in the Holy Spirit. But those who say that 'there was once when he was not,' and 'before he was begotten he was not,' and 'he was made of things that were not,' or maintain that the Son of God is of a different essence (_hypostasis or ousia_[6]) or created or subject to moral change or alteration-- these doth the Catholic and Apostolic Church anathematize. [Footnote 6: The two words are used as synonyms.] [Sidenote: Its doctrine.] It will be seen that the genuine Nicene Creed here given differs in almost every clause from the so-called Nicene Creed of our Communion Service. Leaving, however, the spurious Nicene Creed till we come to it, let us see how the genuine Nicene Creed dealt with Arianism. Its central phrases are the two which refer to essence. Now the _essence_ of a thing is that by which it is what we suppose it to be. We look at it from various points of view, and ascribe to it first one quality and then another. Its _essence_ from any one of these successive points of view is that by which it possesses the corresponding quality. About this unknown something we make no assertion, so that we are committed to no theory whatever. Thus the _essence_ of the Father _as God_ (for this was the point of view) is that unknown and incommunicable something by which He is God. If therefore we explain St. John's 'an only-begotten who is God'[7] inserting 'that is, from the _essence_ of the Father,' we declare that the Divine Sonship is no accident of will, but belongs to the divine nature. It is not an outside matter of creation or adoption, but (so to speak) an organic relation inside that nature. The Father is no more God without the Son than the Son is God without the Father. Again, if we confess him to be _of one essence_ with the Father, we declare him the common possessor with the Father of the one essence which no creature can share, and thus ascribe to him the highest deity in words which allow no evasion or reserve. The two phrases, however, are complementary. _From the essence_ makes a clear distinction: _of one essence_ lays stress on the unity. The word had a Sabellian history, and was used by Marcellus in a Sabellian sense, so that it was justly discredited as Sabellian. Had it stood alone, the creed would have been Sabellian; but at Nicæa it was checked by _from the essence_. When the later Nicenes, under Semiarian influence, came to give the word another meaning, the check was wisely removed. [Footnote 7: John i. 18 (the best reading, and certainly familiar in the Nicene age).] [Sidenote: Its caution.] Upon the whole, the creed is a cautious document. Though Arianism is attacked again in the clause _was made man_, which states that the Lord took something more than a human body, there is no attempt to forestall later controversies by a further definition of the meaning of the incarnation. The abrupt pause after the mention of the Holy Spirit is equally significant, for the nature of his divinity was still an open question. Even the heretics are not cursed, for anathema in the Nicene age was no more than the penalty which to a layman was equivalent to the deposition of a cleric. It meant more when it was launched against the dead two hundred years later. [Sidenote: Arian objections.] Our accounts of the debate are very fragmentary. Eusebius passes over an unpleasant subject, and Athanasius up and down his writings only tells us what he wants for his immediate purpose. Thus we cannot trace many of the Arian objections to the creed. Knowing, however, as we do that they were carefully discussed, we may presume that they were the standing difficulties of the next generation. These were four in number:-- (1.) 'From the essence' and 'of one essence' are materialist expressions, implying either that the Son is a separate part of the essence of the Father, or that there is some third essence prior to both. This objection was a difficulty in the East, and still more in the West, where 'essence' was represented by the materializing word _substantia_, from which we get our unfortunate translation 'of one substance.' (2.) 'Of one essence' is Sabellian. This was true; and the defenders of the word did not seem to care if it was true. Marcellus almost certainly used incautious language, and it was many years before even Athanasius was fully awake to the danger from the Sabellian side. (3.) The words 'essence' and 'of one essence' are not found in Scripture. This is what seems to have influenced the bishops most of all. (4.) 'Of one essence' is contrary to church authority. This also was true, for the word had been rejected as materializing by a large council held at Antioch in 269 against Paul of Samosata. The point, however, at present raised was not that it had been rejected for a good reason, but simply that it had been rejected; and this is an appeal to church authority in the style of later times. The question was one of Scripture against church authority. Both parties indeed accepted Scripture as supreme, but when they differed in its interpretation, the Arians pleaded that a word not sanctioned by church authority could not be made a test of orthodoxy. If tradition gave them a foothold (and none could deny it), they thought themselves entitled to stay; if Scripture condemned them (and there could be no doubt of that), Athanasius thought himself bound to turn them out. It was on the ground of Scripture that the fathers of Nicæa took their stand, and the works of Athanasius, from first to last, are one continuous appeal to Scripture. In this case he argues that if the disputed word is not itself Scripture, its meaning is. This was quite enough; but if the Arians chose to drag in antiquarian questions, they might easily be met on that ground also, for the word had been used or recognised by Origen and others at Alexandria. With regard to its rejection by the Syrian churches, he refuses all mechanical comparisons of date or numbers between the councils of Antioch and Nicæa, and endeavours to show that while Paul of Samosata had used the word in one sense, Arius denied it in another. [Sidenote: Hesitation of the council.] The council paused. The confessors in particular were an immense conservative force. If Hosius and Eustathius had been forward in attacking Arianism, few of them can have greatly wished to re-state the faith which had sustained them in their trial. Now the creed involved something like a revolution. The idea of a universal test was in itself a great change, best softened as much as might be. The insertion of a direct condemnation of Arianism was a still more serious step, and though the bishops had consented to it, they had not consented without misgiving. But when it was proposed to use a word of doubtful tendency, neither found in Scripture nor sanctioned by church authority, it would have been strange if they had not looked round for some escape. [Sidenote: Arian evasions.] Yet what escape was possible? Scripture can be used as a test if its authority is called in question, but not when its meaning is disputed. If the Arians were to be excluded, it was useless to put into the creed the very words whose plain meaning they were charged with evading. Athanasius gives an interesting account of this stage of the debate. It appears that when the bishops collected phrases from Scripture and set down that the Son is 'of God,' those wicked Arians said to each other, 'We can sign that, for we ourselves also are of God. Is it not written, All things are of God?'[8] So when the bishops saw their impious ingenuity, they put it more clearly, that the Son is not only of God like the creatures, but of the essence of God. And this was the reason why the word 'essence' was put into the creed. Again, the Arians were asked if they would confess that the Son is not a creature, but the power and eternal image of the Father and true God. Instead of giving a straightforward answer, they were caught whispering to each other. 'This is true of ourselves, for we men are called the image and glory of God.[9] We too are eternal, for we who live are always.[10] And powers of God are many. Is He not the Lord of powers (hosts)? The locust and the caterpillar are actually "my great power which I sent among you."[11] He is true God also, for he became true God as soon as he was created.' These were the evasions which compelled the bishops to sum up the sense of Scripture in the statement that the Son is of one essence with the Father. [Footnote 8: 1 Cor. viii. 6.] [Footnote 9: 1 Cor. xi. 7.] [Footnote 10: 2 Cor. iv. 11; the impudence of the quotation is worth notice.] [Footnote 11: Joel ii. 25 (army).] [Sidenote: Acceptance of the creed.] So far Athanasius. The longer the debate went on, the clearer it became that the meaning of Scripture could not be defined without going outside Scripture for words to define it. In the end, they all signed except a few. Many, however, signed with misgivings, and some almost avowedly as a formality to please the Emperor. 'The soul is none the worse for a little ink.' It is not a pleasant scene for the historian. [Sidenote: The letter of Eusebius.] Eusebius of Cæsarea was sorely disappointed. Instead of giving a creed to Christendom, he received back his confession in a form which at first he could not sign at all. There was some ground for his complaint that, under pretence of inserting the single word of _one essence_, which our wise and godly Emperor so admirably explained, the bishops had in effect drawn up a composition of their own. It was a venerable document of stainless orthodoxy, and they had laid rude hands on almost every clause of it. Instead of a confession which secured the assent of all parties by deciding nothing, they forced on him a stringent condemnation, not indeed of his own belief, but of opinions held by many of his friends, and separated by no clear logical distinction from his own. But now was he to sign or not? Eusebius was not one of the hypocrites, and would not sign till his scruples were satisfied. He tells us them in a letter to the people of his diocese, which he wrote under the evident feeling that his signature needed some apology. First he gives their own Cæsarean creed, and protests his unchanged adherence to it. Then he relates its unanimous acceptance, subject to the insertion of the single word _of one essence_, which Constantine explained to be directed against materializing and unspiritual views of the divine generation. But it emerged from the debates in so altered a form that he could not sign it without careful examination. His first scruple was at _of the essence of the Father_, which was explained as not meant to imply any materializing separation. So, for the sake of peace, he was willing to accept it, as well as _of one essence_, now that he could do it with a good conscience. Similarly, _begotten, not made_, was explained to mean that the Son has nothing in common with the creatures made by him, but is of a higher essence, ineffably begotten of the Father. So also, on careful consideration, _of one essence with the Father_ implies no more than the uniqueness of the Son's generation, and his distinctness from the creatures. Other expressions prove equally innocent. [Sidenote: Constantine's interference.] Now that a general agreement had been reached, it was time for Constantine to interpose. He had summoned the council as a means of union, and enforced his exhortation to harmony by burning the letters of recrimination which the bishops had presented to him. To that text he still adhered. He knew too little of the controversy to have any very strong personal opinion, and the influences which might have guided him were divided. If Hosius of Cordova leaned to the Athanasian side, Eusebius of Nicomedia was almost Arian. If Constantine had any feeling in the matter--dislike, for example, of the popularity of Arius--he was shrewd enough not to declare it too hastily. If he tried to force a view of his own on the undecided bishops, he might offend half Christendom; but if he waited for the strongest force inside the council to assert itself, he might safely step in at the end to coerce the recusants. Therefore whatever pleased the council pleased the Emperor too. When they tore up the Arian creed, he approved. When they accepted the Cæsarean, he approved again. When the morally strong Athanasian minority urged the council to put in the disputed clauses, Constantine did his best to smooth the course of the debate. At last, always in the interest of unity, he proceeded to put pressure on the few who still held out. Satisfactory explanations were given to Eusebius of Cæsarea, and in the end they all signed but the two Egyptian Arians, Secundus of Ptolemais and Theonas of Marmarica. These were sent into exile, as well as Arius himself; and a qualified subscription from Eusebius of Nicomedia only saved him for the moment. An imperial rescript also branded the heretic's followers with the name of Porphyrians, and ordered his writings to be burnt. The concealment of a copy was to be a capital offence. [Sidenote: Close of the council.] Other subjects decided by the council will not detain us long, though some of its members may have thought one or two of them quite as important as Arianism. The old Easter question was settled in favour of the Roman custom of observing, not the day of the Jewish passover in memory of the crucifixion, but a later Sunday in memory of the resurrection. For how, explains Constantine--how could we who are Christians possibly keep the same day as those wicked Jews? The council, however, was right on the main point, that the feasts of Christian worship are not to be tied to those of Judaism. The third great subject for discussion was the Meletian schism in Egypt, and this was settled by a liberal compromise. The Meletian presbyter might act alone if there was no orthodox presbyter in the place, otherwise he was to be a coadjutor with a claim to succeed if found worthy. Athanasius (at least in later times) would have preferred severer measures, and more than once refers to these with unconcealed disgust. The rest of the business disposed of, Constantine dismissed the bishops with a splendid feast, which Eusebius enthusiastically likens to the kingdom of heaven. [Sidenote: Results of the council.] Let us now sum up the results of the council, so far as they concern Arianism. In one sense they were decisive. Arianism was so sharply condemned by the all but unanimous voice of Christendom, that nearly thirty years had to pass before it was openly avowed again. Conservative feeling in the West was engaged in steady defence of the great council; and even in the East its doctrine could be made to wear a conservative aspect as the actual faith of Christendom. On the other hand, were serious drawbacks. The triumph was rather a surprise than a solid victory. As it was a revolution which a minority had forced through by sheer strength of clearer thought, a reaction was inevitable when the half-convinced majority returned home. In other words, Athanasius had pushed the Easterns farther than they wished to go, and his victory recoiled on himself. But he could not retreat when once he had put the disputed words into the creed. Come what might, those words were irreversible. And if it was a dangerous policy which won the victory, the use made of it was deplorable. Though the exile of Arius and his friends was Constantine's work, much of the discredit must fall on the Athanasian leaders, for we cannot find that they objected to it either at the time or afterwards. It seriously embittered the controversy. If the Nicenes set the example of persecution, the other side improved on it till the whole contest threatened to degenerate into a series of personal quarrels and retaliations. The process was only checked by the common hatred of all parties to Julian, and by the growth of a better spirit among the Nicenes, as shown in the later writings of Athanasius. CHAPTER III. _THE EUSEBIAN REACTION._ [Sidenote: The problem stated.] At first sight the reaction which followed the Nicene council is one of the strangest scenes in history. The decision was clear and all but unanimous. Arianism seemed crushed for ever by the universal reprobation of the Christian world. Yet it instantly renewed the contest, and fought its conquerors on equal terms for more than half a century. A reaction like this is plainly more than a court intrigue. Imperial favour could do a good deal in the Nicene age, but no emperor could long oppose any clear and definite belief of Christendom. Nothing could be plainer than the issue of the council. How then could Arianism venture to renew the contest? [Sidenote: The reaction rather conservative than Arian.] The answer is, that though the belief of the churches was certainly not Arian, neither was it yet definitely Nicene. The dominant feeling both in East and West was one of dislike to change, which we may conveniently call conservatism. But here there was a difference. Heresies in the East had always gathered round the person of the Lord, and more than one had already partly occupied the ground of Arianism. Thus Eastern conservatism inherited a doctrine from the last generation, and was inclined to look on the Nicene decisions as questionable innovations. The Westerns thought otherwise. Leaning on authority as they habitually did, they cared little to discuss for themselves an unfamiliar question. They could not even translate its technical terms into Latin without many misunderstandings. Therefore Western conservatism simply fell back on the august decisions of Nicæa. No later meeting could presume to rival 'the great and holy council' where Christendom had once for all pronounced the condemnation of Arianism. In short, East and West were alike conservative; but while conservatism in the East went behind the council, in the West it was content to start from it. [Sidenote: Supported by influence of: (1.) Heathens.] The Eastern reaction was therefore in its essence not Arian but conservative. Its leaders might be conservatives like Eusebius of Cæsarea, or court politicians like his successor, Acacius. They were never open Arians till 357. The front and strength of the party was conservative, and the Arians at its tail were in themselves only a source of weakness. Yet they could enlist powerful allies in the cause of reaction. Heathenism was still a living power in the world. It was strong in numbers even in the East, and even stronger in the imposing memories of history. Christianity was still an upstart on Cæsar's throne. The favour of the gods had built up the Empire, and men's hearts misgave them that their wrath might overthrow it. Heathenism was still an established religion, the Emperor still its official head. Old Rome was still devoted to her ancient deities, her nobles still recorded their priesthoods and augurships among their proudest honours, and the Senate itself still opened every sitting with an offering of incense on the altar of Victory. The public service was largely heathen, and the army too, especially its growing cohorts of barbarian auxiliaries. Education also was mostly heathen, turning on heathen classics and taught by heathen rhetoricians. Libanius, the teacher of Chrysostom, was also the honoured friend of Julian. Philosophy too was a great influence, now that it had leagued together all the failing powers of the ancient world against a rival not of this world. Its weakness as a moral force must not blind us to its charm for the imagination. Neoplatonism brought Egypt to the aid of Greece, and drew on Christianity itself for help. The secrets of philosophy were set forth in the mysteries of Eastern superstition. From the dim background of a noble monotheism the ancient gods came forth to represent on earth a majesty above their own. No waverer could face the terrors of that mighty gathering of infernal powers. And the Nicene age was a time of unsettlement and change, of half-beliefs and wavering superstition, of weakness and unclean frivolity. Above all, society was heathen to an extent we can hardly realise. The two religions were strangely mixed. The heathens on their side never quite understood the idea of worshipping one God only; while crowds of nominal Christians never asked for baptism unless a dangerous illness or an earthquake scared them, and thought it quite enough to show their faces in church once or twice a year. Meanwhile, they lived just like the heathens round them, steeped in superstitions like their neighbours, attending freely their immoral games and dances, and sharing in the sins connected with them. Thus Arianism had many affinities with heathenism, in its philosophical idea of the Supreme, in its worship of a demigod of the vulgar type, in its rhetorical methods, and in its generally lower moral tone. Heathen influences therefore strongly supported Arianism. [Sidenote: (2.) Jews.] The Jews also usually took the Arian side. They were still a power in the world, though it was long since Israel had challenged Rome to seventy years of internecine contest for the dominion of the East. But they had never forgiven her the destruction of Jehovah's temple. [Sidenote: A.D. 66-135.] Half overcome themselves by the spell of the eternal Empire, they still looked vaguely for some Eastern deliverer to break her impious yoke. Still more fiercely they resented her adoption of the gospel, which indeed was no tidings of good-will or peace to them, but the opening of a thousand years of persecution. Thus they were a sort of caricature of the Christian churches. They made every land their own, yet were aliens in all. They lived subject to the laws of the Empire, yet gathered into corporations governed by their own. They were citizens of Rome, yet strangers to her imperial comprehensiveness. In a word, they were like a spirit in the body, but a spirit of uncleanness and of sordid gain. If they hated the Gentile, they could love his vices notwithstanding. If the old missionary zeal of Israel was extinct, they could still purvey impostures for the world. Jewish superstitions were the plague of distant Spain, the despair of Chrysostom at Antioch. Thus the lower moral tone of Arianism and especially its denial of the Lord's divinity were enough to secure it a fair amount of Jewish support as against the Nicenes. At Alexandria, for example, the Jews were always ready for lawless outrage at the call of every enemy of Athanasius. [Sidenote: (3.) The court.] The court also leaned to Arianism. The genuine Arians, to do them justice, were not more pliant to imperial dictation than the Nicenes, but the genuine Arians were only one section of a motley coalition. Their conservative patrons and allies were laid open to court influence by their dread of Sabellianism; for conservatism is the natural home of the impatient timidity which looks round at every difficulty for a saviour of society, and would fain turn the whole work of government into a crusade against a series of scarecrows. Thus when Constantius turned against them, their chiefs were found wanting in the self-respect which kept both Nicene and Arian leaders from condescending to a battle of intrigue with such masters of the art as flourished in the palace. But for thirty years the intriguers found it their interest to profess conservatism. The court was as full of selfish cabals as that of the old French monarchy. Behind the glittering ceremonial on which the treasures of the world were squandered fought armies of place-hunters great and small, cooks and barbers, women and eunuchs, courtiers and spies, adventurers of every sort, for ever wresting the majesty of law to private favour, for ever aiming new oppressions at the men on whom the exactions of the Empire already fell with crushing weight. The noblest bishops, the ablest generals, were their fairest prey; and we have no surer witness to the greatness of Athanasius or Julian than the pertinacious hatred of this odious horde. Intriguers of this kind found it better to unsettle the Nicene decisions, on behalf of conservatism forsooth, than to maintain them in the name of truth. There were many ways of upsetting them, and each might lead to gain; only one of defending them, and that was not attractive. [Sidenote: (4.) Asia.] Nor were Constantius and Valens without political reasons for their support of Arianism. We can see by the light of later history that the real centre of the Empire was the solid mass of Asia from the Bosphorus to Mount Taurus, and that Constantinople was its outwork on the side of Europe. In Rome on one side, Egypt and Syria on the other, we can already trace the tendencies which led to their separation from the orthodox Eastern Church and Empire. Now in the fourth century Asia was a stronghold of conservatism. There was a good deal of Arianism in Cappadocia, but we hear little of it in Asia. The group of Lucianists at Nicæa left neither Arian nor Nicene successors. The ten provinces of Asia 'verily knew not God' in Hilary's time; and even the later Nicene doctrine of Cappadocia was almost as much Semiarian as Athanasian. Thus Constantius and Valens pursued throughout an Asiatic policy, striking with one hand at Egypt, with the other at Rome. Every change in their action can be explained with reference to the changes of opinion in Asia. [Sidenote: Conclusion.] Upon the whole, we may say that Arian hatred of the council would have been powerless if it had not rested on a formidable mass of conservative discontent, while the conservative discontent might have died away if the court had not supplied it with the means of action. If the decision lay with the majority, every initiative had to come from the court. Hence the reaction went on as long as these were agreed against the Nicene party; it was suspended as soon as Julian's policy turned another way, became unreal when conservative alarm subsided, and finally collapsed when Asia went over to the Nicene side. [Sidenote: Sequel of the council.] We may now return to the sequel of the great council. If Constantine thought he had restored peace in the churches, he soon found out his mistake. The literary war began again almost where his summons had interrupted it. The creed was signed and done with and seemed forgotten. The conservatives hardly cared to be reminded of their half unwilling signatures. To Athanasius it may have been a watchword from the first, but it was not so to many others. In the West it was as yet almost unknown. Even Marcellus was more disposed to avoid all technical terms than to lay stress on those which the council sanctioned. Yet all parties had learned caution at Nicæa. Marcellus disavowed Sabellianism; Eusebius avoided Arianism, and nobody seems to have disowned the creed as long as Constantine lived. [Sidenote: Athanasius bishop of Alexandria, A.D. 328.] The next great change was at Alexandria. The bishop Alexander died in the spring of 328, and a stormy election followed. Its details are obscure, but the Nicene party put forward the deacon Athanasius, and consecrated him in spite of a determined opposition from Arians and Meletians. And now that we stand before the greatest of the Eastern fathers, let us see how his character and training fitted him to be the hero of the Arian controversy. [Sidenote: Character of Athanasius.] Athanasius was a Greek by birth and education, Greek also in subtle thought and philosophic insight, in oratorical power and supple statesmanship. Though born almost within the shadow of the mighty temple of Serapis at Alexandria, he shows few signs of Coptic influence. Deep as is his feeling of the mystery of revelation, he has no love of mystery for its own sake, nothing of the Egyptian passion for things awful and mysterious. Even his style is clear and simple, without a trace of Egyptian involution and obscurity. We know nothing of his family, and cannot even date his birth for certain, though it must have been very near the year 297. He was, therefore, old enough to remember the worst days of the great persecution, which Maximin Daza kept up in Egypt as late as 313. Legend has of course been busy with his early life. According to one story, Alexander found him with some other boys at play, imitating the ceremonies of baptism--not a likely game for a youth of sixteen. Another story makes him a disciple of the great hermit Antony, who never existed. He may have been a lawyer for a time, but in any case his training was neither Coptic nor monastic, but Greek and scriptural, as became a scholar of Alexandria. There may be traces of Latin in his writings, but his allusions to Greek literature are such as leave no doubt that he had a liberal education. In his earliest works he refers to Plato; in later years he quotes Homer, and models his notes on Aristotle, his _Apology_ to Constantius on Demosthenes. To Egyptian idolatry he seldom alludes. Scripture, however, is his chosen and familiar study, and few commentators have ever shown a firmer grasp of certain of its leading thoughts. He at least endeavoured (unlike the Arian text-mongers) to take in the context of his quotations and the general drift of Christian doctrine. Many errors of detail may be pardoned to a writer who so seldom fails in suggestiveness and width of view. In mere learning he was no match for Eusebius of Cæsarea, and even as a thinker he has a worthy rival in Hilary of Poitiers, while some of the Arian leaders were fully equal to him in political skill. But Eusebius was no great thinker, Hilary no statesman, and the Arian leaders were not men of truth. Athanasius, on the other hand, was philosopher, statesman, and saint in one. Few great men have ever been so free from littleness or weakness. At the age of twenty he had risen far above the level of Arianism and Sabellianism, and throughout his long career we catch glimpses of a spiritual depth which few of his contemporaries could reach. Above all things, his life was consecrated to a simple witness for truth. Athanasius is the hero of a mighty struggle, and the secret of his grandeur is his intense and vivid faith that the incarnation is a real revelation from the other world, and that its issues are for life and death supreme in heaven and earth and hell for evermore. [Sidenote: Early years of his rule at Alexandria.] Such a bishop was sure to meet a bitter opposition, and as sure to overcome it. Egypt soon became a stronghold of the Nicene faith, for Athanasius could sway the heart of Greek and Copt alike. The pertinacious hatred of a few was balanced by the enthusiastic admiration of the many. The Meletians dwindled fast, the Arians faster still. Nothing but outside persecution was needed now to make Nicene orthodoxy the national faith of Egypt. [Sidenote: Beginnings of the reaction.] It will be remembered that Eusebius of Nicomedia was exiled shortly after the council. His disgrace was not a long one. He had powerful friends at court, and it was not very hard for a man who had signed the creed to satisfy the Emperor of his substantial orthodoxy. Constantine was not unforgiving, and policy as well as easy temper forbade him to scrutinize too closely the professions of submission laid before him. Once restored to his former influence at court, Eusebius became the centre of intrigue against the council. Old Lucianic friendships may have led him on. Arius was a Lucianist like himself, and the Lucianists had in vain defended him before the council. Eusebius was the ablest of them, and had fared the worst. He had strained his conscience to sign the creed, and his compliance had not even saved him from exile. We cannot wonder if he brought back a firm determination to undo the council's hateful work. If it was too dangerous to attack the creed itself, its defenders might be got rid of one by one on various pretexts. Such was the plan of operations. [Sidenote: Formation of the Eusebian coalition.] A party was easily formed. The Lucianists were its nucleus, and all sorts of malcontents gathered round them. The Meletians of Egypt joined the coalition, and the unclean creatures of the palace rejoiced to hear of fresh intrigue. Above all, the conservatives gave extensive help. The charges against the Nicene leaders were often more than plausible, for men like the Cæsarean Eusebius dreaded Sabellianism, and Marcellus was practically Sabellian, and the others aiders and abettors of his misbelief. Some even of the darker charges may have had some ground, or at least have seemed truer than they were. Thus Eusebius had a very heterogeneous following, and it would be scant charity if we laid on all of them the burden of their leader's infamy. [Sidenote: Attacks on: (1.) Eustathius.] They began with Eustathius of Antioch, an old confessor and a man of eloquence, who enjoyed a great and lasting popularity in the city. He was one of the foremost enemies of Arianism at Nicæa, and had since waged an active literary war with the Arianizing clique in Syria. In one respect they found him a specially dangerous enemy, for he saw clearly the important consequences of the Arian denial of the Lord's true human soul. Eustathius was therefore deposed (on obscure grounds) in 330, and exiled with many of his clergy to Thrace. The vacant see was offered to Eusebius of Cæsarea, and finally accepted by the Cappadocian Euphronius. But party spirit ran high at Antioch. The removal of Eustathius nearly caused a bloody riot, and his departure was followed by an open schism. The Nicenes refused to recognise Euphronius, and held their meetings apart, under the presbyter Paulinus, remaining without a bishop for more than thirty years. [Sidenote: (2.) Marcellus.] The system was vigorously followed up. Ten of the Nicene leaders were exiled in the next year or two. But Alexandria and Ancyra were the great strongholds of the Nicene faith, and the Eusebians still had to expel Marcellus and Athanasius. As Athanasius might have met a charge of heresy with a dangerous retort, it was found necessary to take other methods with him. Marcellus, however, was so far the foremost champion of the council, and he had fairly exposed himself to a doctrinal attack. Let us therefore glance at his theory of the incarnation. [Sidenote: Character of Marcellus.] Marcellus of Ancyra was already in middle life when he came forward as a resolute enemy of Arianism at Nicæa. Nothing is known of his early years and education, but we can see some things which influenced him later on. Ancyra was a strange diocese, full of uncouth Gauls and chaffering Jews, and overrun with Montanists and Manichees, and votaries of endless fantastic heresies and superstitions. In the midst of this turmoil Marcellus spent his life; and if he learned too much of the Galatian party spirit, he learned also that the gospel is wider than the forms of Greek philosophy. The speculations of Alexandrian theology were as little appreciated by the Celts of Asia as is the stately churchmanship of England by the Celts of Wales. They were the foreigner's thoughts, too cold for Celtic zeal, too grand for Celtic narrowness. Fickleness is not inconsistent with a true and deep religious instinct, and we may find something austere and high behind the ever-changing phases of spiritual excitement. Thus the ideal holiness of the church, upheld by Montanists and Novatians, attracted kindred spirits at opposite ends of the Empire, among the Moors of the Atlas and the Gauls of Asia. Such a people will have sins and scandals like its neighbours, but very little indifference or cynicism. It will be more inclined to make of Christian liberty an excuse for strife and debate. The zeal which carries the gospel to the loneliest mountain villages will also fill them with the jealousies of endless quarrelling sects; and the Gaul of Asia clung to his separatism with all the more tenacity for the consciousness that his race was fast dissolving in the broader and better world of Greece. Thus Marcellus was essentially a stranger to the wider movements of his time. His system is an appeal from Origen to St. John, from philosophy to Scripture. Nor can we doubt the high character and earnest zeal of the man who for years stood side by side with Athanasius. The more significant therefore is the failure of his bold attempt to cut the knot of controversy. [Sidenote: Doctrine of Marcellus.] Marcellus then agreed with the Arians that the idea of sonship implies beginning and inferiority, so that a Son of God is neither eternal nor equal to the Father. When the Arians argued on both grounds that the Lord is a creature, the conservatives were content to reply that the idea of sonship excludes that of creation, and implies a peculiar relation to and origin from the Father. But their own position was weak. Whatever they might say, their secondary God was a second God, and their theory of the eternal generation only led them into further difficulties, for their concession of the Son's origin from the will of the Father made the Arian conclusion irresistible. Marcellus looked scornfully on a lame result like this. The conservatives had broken down because they had gone astray after vain philosophy. Turn we then to Scripture. 'In the beginning was,' not the Son, but the Word. It is no secondary or accidental title which St. John throws to the front of his Gospel, and repeats with deliberate emphasis three times over in the first verse. Thus the Lord is properly the Word of God, and this must govern the meaning of all such secondary names as the Son. Then he is not only the silent thinking principle which remains with God, but also the active creating power which comes forth too for the dispensation of the world. In this Sabellianizing sense Marcellus accepted the Nicene faith, holding that the Word is one with God as reason is one with man. Thus he explained the Divine Sonship and other difficulties by limiting them to the incarnation. The Word as such is pure spirit, and only became the Son of God by becoming the Son of Man. It was only in virtue of this humiliating separation from the Father that the Word acquired a sort of independent personality. Thus the Lord was human certainly on account of his descent into true created human flesh, and yet not merely human, for the Word remained unchanged. Not for its own sake was the Word incarnate, but merely for the conquest of Satan. 'The flesh profiteth nothing,' and even the gift of immortality cannot make it worthy of permanent union with the Word. God is higher than immortality itself, and even the immortal angels cannot pass the gulf which parts the creature from its Lord. That which is of the earth is useless for the age to come. Hence the human nature must be laid aside when its work is done and every hostile power overthrown. Then shall the Son of God deliver up the kingdom to the Father, that the kingdom of God may have no end; and then the Word shall return, and be for ever with the Father as before. [Sidenote: The conservative panic.] A universal cry of horror rose from the conservative ranks to greet the new Sabellius, the Jew and worse than Jew, the shameless miscreant who had forsworn the Son of God. Marcellus had confused together all the errors he could find. The faith itself was at peril if blasphemies like these were to be sheltered behind the rash decisions of Nicæa. So thought the conservatives, and not without a reason, though their panic was undignified from the first, and became a positive calamity when taken up by political adventurers for their own purposes. As far as doctrine went, there was little to choose between Marcellus and Arius. Each held firmly the central error of the conservatives, and rejected as illogical the modifications and side views by which they were finding their way to something better. Both parties, says Athanasius, are equally inconsistent. The conservatives, who refuse eternal being to the Son of God, will not endure to hear that his kingdom is other than eternal; while the Marcellians, who deny his personality outright, are equally shocked at the Arian limitation of it to the sphere of time. Nor had Marcellus escaped the difficulties of Arius. If, for example, the idea of an eternal Son is polytheistic, nothing is gained by transferring the eternity to an impersonal Word. If the generation of the Son is materializing, so also is the coming forth of the Word. If the work of creation is unworthy of God, it may as well be delegated to a created Son as to a transitory Word. So far Athanasius. Indeed, to Marcellus the Son of God is a mere phenomenon of time, and even the Word is as foreign to the divine essence as the Arian Son. If the one can only reveal in finite measure, the other gives but broken hints of an infinity beyond. Instead of destroying Arianism by the roots, Marcellus had fallen into something very like Sabellianism. He reaches no true mediation, no true union of God and man, for he makes the incarnation a mere theophany, the flesh a useless burden, to be one day laid aside. The Lord is our Redeemer and the conqueror of death and Satan, but there is no room for a second Adam, the organic head of regenerate mankind. The redemption becomes a mere intervention from without, not also the planting of a power of life within, which will one day quicken our mortal bodies too. [Sidenote: (3.) Athanasius.] Marcellus had fairly exposed himself to a doctrinal attack; other methods were used with Athanasius. They had material enough without touching doctrine. His election was disputed: Meletians and Arians complained of oppression: there were some useful charges of magic and political intrigue. At first, however, the Meletians could not even get a hearing from the Emperor. When Eusebius of Nicomedia took up their cause, they fared a little better. The attack had to be put off till the winter of 331, and was even then a failure. Their charges were partly answered by two presbyters of Athanasius who were on the spot; and when the bishop himself was summoned to court, he soon completed their discomfiture. As Constantine was now occupied with the Gothic war, nothing more could be done till 334. When, however, Athanasius was ordered to attend a council at Cæsarea, he treated it as a mere cabal of his enemies, and refused to appear. [Sidenote: The Council of Tyre (335).] Next year the Eastern bishops gathered to Jerusalem to keep the festival of the thirtieth year of Constantine's reign and to dedicate his splendid church on Golgotha. But first it was a work of charity to restore peace in Egypt. A synod of about 150 bishops was held at Tyre, and this time the appearance of Athanasius was secured by peremptory orders from the Emperor. The Eusebians had the upper hand, though there was a strong minority. Athanasius brought nearly fifty bishops from Egypt, and others, like Maximus of Jerusalem and Alexander of Thessalonica, were willing to do justice. Athanasius was not accused of heresy, but, with more plausibility, of episcopal tyranny. His friends replied with reckless violence. Potammon aimed a bitter and unrighteous taunt at Eusebius of Cæsarea. 'You and I were once in prison for the faith. I lost an eye: how did you escape?' Athanasius might perhaps have been crushed if his enemies had kept up a decent semblance of truth and fairness. But nothing was further from their thoughts than an impartial trial. Scandal succeeded scandal, till the iniquity culminated in the dispatch of an openly partizan commission to superintend the manufacture of evidence in Egypt. Maximus of Jerusalem and Paphnutius left the council, saying that it was not good that old confessors like them should share its evil deeds. The Egyptian bishops protested. Alexander of Thessalonica denounced the plot to the Emperor's representative. Athanasius himself took ship for Constantinople without waiting for the end of the farce, and the council condemned him by default. This done, the bishops went on to Jerusalem for the proper business of their meeting. [Sidenote: Assembly at Jerusalem.] The concourse on Golgotha was a brilliant spectacle. Ten years had passed since the still unrivalled assembly at Nicæa, and the veterans of the last great persecution must have been deeply moved at their meeting once again in this world. The stately ceremonial suited Maximus and Eusebius much better than the noisy scene at Tyre, and may for the moment have soothed the swelling indignation of Potammon and Paphnutius. Constantine had once more plastered over the divisions of the churches with a general reconciliation, but this time Athanasius was condemned and Arius received to communion. The heretic had long since left his exile in Illyricum, though we cannot fix the date of his recall. However, one winter the Emperor invited Arius and his friend Euzoius to Constantinople, where they laid before him a short and simple confession of their faith. It said nothing of the disputed points, but was not unorthodox as far as it went. Nor were they bishops, that the Nicene creed should be forced upon them. Constantine was therefore satisfied, and now directed them to lay it before the bishops at Jerusalem, who duly approved of it and received its authors to communion. In order to complete the work of peace, Athanasius was condemned afresh on the return of the commission from Egypt, and proceedings were begun against Marcellus of Ancyra. [Sidenote: First exile of Athanasius.] Meanwhile Constantine's dreams of peace were rudely dissipated by the sudden appearance of Athanasius before him in the streets of Constantinople. Whatever the bishops had done, they had plainly caused dissensions just when the Emperor was most anxious for harmony. An angry letter summoned the whole assembly straight to court. The meeting, however, was most likely dispersed before its arrival; at any rate, there came only a deputation of Eusebians. The result was unexpected. Instead of attempting to defend the council of Tyre, Eusebius of Nicomedia suddenly accused Athanasius of hindering the supply of corn for the capital. This was quite a new charge, and chosen with much skill. Athanasius was not allowed to defend himself, but summarily sent away to Trier in Gaul, where he was honourably received by the younger Constantine. On the other hand, the Emperor refused to let his place be filled up at Alexandria, and exiled the Meletian leader, John Archaph, 'for causing divisions.' To Constantinople came also Marcellus. He had kept away from the councils of Tyre and Jerusalem, and only came now to invite the Emperor's decision on his book. Constantine referred it as usual to the bishops, who promptly condemned it and deposed its author. [Sidenote: Death of Arius.] There remained only the formal restoration of Arius to communion at Constantinople. But the heretic was taken ill suddenly, and died in the midst of a procession the evening before the day appointed. His enemies saw in his death a judgment from heaven, and likened it to that of Judas. Only Athanasius relates it with reserve and dignity. [Sidenote: Policy of Constantine.] Upon the whole, Constantine had done his best for peace by leaving matters in an uneasy suspense which satisfied neither party. This seems the best explanation of his wavering. He had not turned Arian, for there is no sign that he ever allowed the decisions of Nicæa to be openly rejected inside the churches. Athanasius was not exiled for heresy, for there was no question of heresy in the case. The quarrel was ostensibly one of orthodox bishops, for Eusebius had signed the Nicene creed as well as Athanasius. Constantine's action seems to have been determined by Asiatic feeling. Had he believed the charge of delaying the corn-ships, he would have executed Athanasius at once. His conduct does not look like a real explosion of rage. The merits of the case were not easy to find out, but the quarrel between Athanasius and the Asiatic bishops was a nuisance, so he sent him out of the way as a troublesome person. The Asiatics were not all of them either Arians or intriguers. It was not always furtive sympathy with heresy which led them to regret the heresiarch's expulsion for doctrines which he disavowed; neither was it always partizanship which could not see the innocence of Athanasius. Constantine's vacillation is natural if his policy was to seek for unity by letting the bishops guide him. CHAPTER IV. _THE COUNCIL OF SARDICA._ [Sidenote: Death of Constantine, May 22, 337.] Constantine's work on earth was done. When the hand of death was on him, he laid aside the purple, and the ambiguous position of a Christian Cæsar with it, and passed away in the white robe of a simple convert. Long as he had been a friend to the churches, he had till now put off the elementary rite of baptism, in the hope one day to receive it in the waters of the Jordan, like the Lord himself. Darkly as his memory is stained with isolated crimes, Constantine must for ever rank among the greatest of the emperors; and as an actual benefactor of mankind, he stands alone among them. Besides his great services to the Empire in his own time, he gave the civilization of later days a new centre on the Bosphorus, beyond the reach of Goth or Vandal. Bulgarians and Saracens and Russians dashed themselves in pieces on the walls of Constantinople, and the [Sidenote: A.D. 1204.] strong arms of Western and crusading traitors were needed at last to overthrow the old bulwark which for so many centuries had guarded Christendom. Above all, it was Constantine who first essayed the problem of putting a Christian spirit into the statecraft of the world. Hard as the task is even now, it was harder still in times when the gospel had not yet had time to form, as it were, an outwork of common feeling against some of the grosser sins. Yet whatever might be his errors, his legislation was a landmark for ever, because no emperor before him had been guided by a Christian sense of duty. [Sidenote: Division of the Empire.] The sons of Constantine shared the Empire among them 'like an ancestral inheritance.' Thrace and Pontus had been assigned to their cousins, Dalmatius and Hannibalianus; but the army would have none but Constantine's own sons to reign over them. The whole house of Theodora perished in the tumult except two boys--Gallus and Julian, afterwards the apostate Emperor. Thus Constantine's sons were left in possession of the Empire. Constantine II. took Gaul and Britain, the legions of Syria secured the East for Constantius, and Italy and Illyricum were left for the share of the youngest, Constans. [Sidenote: Recall of Athanasius, 337.] One of the first acts of the new Emperors was to restore the exiled bishops. Athanasius was released by the younger Constantine as soon as his father's death was known at Trier, and reached Alexandria in November 337, to the joy of both Greeks and Copts. Marcellus and the rest were restored about the same time, though not without much disturbance at Ancyra, where the intruding bishop Basil was an able man, and had formed a party. [Sidenote: Character of Constantius.] Let us now take a glance at the new Emperor of the East. Constantius had something of his father's character. In temperance and chastity, in love of letters and in dignity of manner, in social charm and pleasantness of private life, he was no unworthy son of Constantine; and if he inherited no splendid genius for war, he had a full measure of soldierly courage and endurance. Nor was the statesmanship entirely bad which kept the East in tolerable peace for four-and-twenty years. But Constantius was essentially a little man, in whom his father's vices took a meaner form. Constantine committed some great crimes, but the whole spirit of Constantius was corroded with fear and jealousy of every man better than himself. Thus the easy trust in unworthy favourites, which marks even the ablest of his family, became in Constantius a public calamity. It was bad enough when the uprightness of Constantine or Julian was led astray, but it was far worse when the eunuchs found a master too weak to stand alone, too jealous to endure a faithful counsellor, too easy-tempered and too indolent to care what oppressions were committed in his name, and without the sense of duty which would have gone far to make up for all his shortcomings. The peculiar repulsiveness of Constantius is not due to any flagrant personal vice, but to the combination of cold-blooded treachery with the utter want of any inner nobleness of character. Yet he was a pious emperor, too, in his own way. He loved the ecclesiastical game, and was easily won over to the Eusebian side. The growing despotism of the Empire and the personal vanity of Constantius were equally suited by the episcopal timidity which cried for an arm of flesh to fight its battles. It is not easy to decide how far he acted on his own likings and superstitions, how far he merely let his flatterers lead him, or how far he saw political reasons for following them. In any case, he began with a thorough dislike of the Nicene council, continued for a long time to hold conservative language, and ended after some vacillation by adopting the vague Homoean compromise of 359. [Sidenote: Second exile of Athanasius, Lent, 339.] Eusebian intrigue was soon resumed. Now that Constantine was dead, a schism could be set on foot at Alexandria; so the Arians were encouraged to hold assemblies of their own, and provided with a bishop in the person of Pistus, one of the original heretics deposed by Alexander. No fitter consecrator could be found for him than Secundus of Ptolemais, one of the two bishops who held out to the last against the council. The next move was the formal deposition of Athanasius by a council held at Antioch in the winter of 338. But there was still no charge of heresy--only old and new ones of sedition and intrigue, and a new argument, that after his deposition at Tyre he had forfeited all right to further justice by accepting a restoration from the civil power. This last was quite a new claim on behalf of the church, first used against Athanasius, and next afterwards for the ruin of Chrysostom, though it has since been made a pillar of the faith. Pistus was not appointed to the vacant see. The council chose Gregory of Cappadocia as a better agent for the rough work to be done. Athanasius was expelled by the apostate prefect Philagrius, and Gregory installed by military violence in his place. Scenes of outrage were enacted all over Egypt. [Sidenote: Athanasius and Marcellus at Rome.] Athanasius fled to Rome. Thither also came Marcellus of Ancyra, and ejected clerics from all parts of the East. Under the rule of Constans they might meet with justice. Bishop Julius at once took the position of an arbiter of Christendom. He received the fugitives with a decent reserve, and invited the Eusebians to the council they had already asked him to hold. For a long time there came no answer from the East. The old heretic Carpones appeared at Rome on Gregory's behalf, but the envoys of Julius were detained at Antioch till January 340, and at last dismissed with an unmannerly reply. After some further delay, a synod of about fifty bishops met at Rome the following autumn. The cases were examined, Marcellus and Athanasius acquitted, and it remained for Julius to report their decision to the Easterns. [Sidenote: The letter of Julius.] His letter is one of the ablest documents of the entire controversy. Nothing can be better than the calm and high judicial tone in which he lays open every excuse of the Eusebians. He was surprised, he says, to receive so discourteous an answer to his letter. But what was their grievance? If it was his invitation to a synod, they could not have much confidence in their cause. Even the great council of Nicæa had decided (and not without the will of God) that the acts of one synod might be revised by another. Their own envoys had asked him to hold a council, and the men who set aside the decisions of Nicæa by using the services of heretics like Secundus, Pistus and Carpones could hardly claim finality for their own doings at Tyre. Their complaint that he had given them too short a notice would have been reasonable if the appointed day had found them on the road to Rome. 'But this also, beloved, is only an excuse.' They had detained his envoys for months at Antioch, and plainly did not mean to come. As for the reception of Athanasius, it was neither lightly nor unjustly done. The Eusebian letters against him were inconsistent, for no two of them ever told the same story; and they were, moreover, contradicted by letters in his favour from Egypt and elsewhere. The accused had come to Rome when summoned, and waited for them eighteen months in vain, whereas the Eusebians had uncanonically appointed an utter stranger in his place at Alexandria, and sent him with a guard of soldiers all the way from Antioch to disturb the peace of Egypt with horrible outrages. With regard to Marcellus, he had denied the charge of heresy and presented a very sound confession of his faith. The Roman legates at Nicæa had also borne witness to the honourable part he had taken in the council. Thus the Eusebians could not say that Athanasius and Marcellus had been too hastily received at Rome. Rather their own doings were the cause of all the troubles, for complaints of their violence came in from all parts of the East. The authors of these outrages were no lovers of peace, but of confusion. Whatever grievance they might have against Athanasius, they should not have neglected the old custom of writing first to Rome, that a legitimate decision might issue from the apostolic see. It was time to put an end to these scandals, as they would have to answer for them in the day of judgment. [Sidenote: Criticism of it.] Severe as the letter is, it contrasts well with the disingenuous querulousness of the Eusebians. Nor is Julius unmindful to press as far as possible the claims of the Roman see. His one serious mistake was in supporting Marcellus. No doubt old services at Nicæa counted heavily in the West. His confession too was innocent enough, being very nearly our so-called Apostles' Creed, here met for the first time in history.[12] Knowing, however, what his doctrine was, we must admit that the Easterns were right in resenting its deliberate approval at Rome. [Footnote 12: It has even been ascribed to Marcellus; but it seems a little older. Its apostolic origin is of course absurd. The legend cannot be traced beyond the last quarter of the fourth century.] [Sidenote: Council of the dedication at Antioch (341).] The Eusebians replied in the summer of 341, when ninety bishops met at Antioch to consecrate the Golden Church, begun by Constantine. The character of the council is an old question of dispute. Hilary calls it a meeting of saints, and its canons have found their way into the authoritative collections; yet its chief work was to confirm the deposition of Athanasius and to draw up creeds in opposition to the Nicene. Was it Nicene or Arian? Probably neither, but conservative. The Eusebians seem to have imitated Athanasius in pressing a creed (this time an Arianizing one) on unwilling conservatives, but only to have succeeded in making great confusion. This was a new turn of their policy, and not a hopeful one. Constantine's death indeed left them free to try if they could replace the Nicene creed by something else; but the friends of Athanasius could accept no substitute, and even the conservatives could hardly agree to make the Lord's divinity an open question. The result was twenty years of busy creed-making, and twenty more of confusion, before it was finally seen that there was no escape from the dilemma which had been decisive at Nicæa. [Sidenote: The Lucianic creed (second of Antioch).] The Eusebians began by offering a meagre and evasive creed, much like the confession of Arius and Euzoius, prefacing it with a declaration that they were not followers of Arius, but his independent adherents. They overshot their mark, for the conservatives were not willing to go so far as this, and, moreover, had older standards of their own. Instead, therefore, of drawing up a new creed, they put forward a work of the venerated martyr Lucian of Antioch. Such it was said to be, and such in the main it probably was, though the anathemas must have been added now. This Lucianic formula then is essentially conservative, but leans much more to the Nicene than to the Arian side. Its central clause declares the Son of God 'not subject to moral change or alteration, but the unvarying image of the deity and essence and power and counsel and glory of the Father,' while its anathemas condemn 'those who say that there was once _a time_ when the Son of God was not, or that he is a creature _as one of the creatures_.' These are strong words, but they do not in the least shut out Arianism. No doubt the phrase 'unvarying image of the essence' means that there is no change of essence in passing from the Father to the Son, and is therefore logically equivalent to 'of one essence' (_homoousion_); but the conservatives meant nothing more than 'of like essence' (_homoiousion_), which is consistent with great unlikeness in attributes. The anathemas also are the Nicene with insertions which might have been made for the very purpose of letting the Arians escape. However, the conservatives were well satisfied with the Lucianic creed, and frequently refer to it with a veneration akin to that of Athanasius for the Nicene. But the wire-pullers were determined to upset it. The confession next presented by Theophronius of Tyana was more to their mind, for it contained a direct anathema against "Marcellus and those who communicated with him." It secured a momentary approval, but the meeting broke up without adopting it. The Lucianic formula remained the creed of the council. [Sidenote: The fourth creed.] Defeated in a free council, the wire-pullers a few months later assembled a cabal of their own, and drew up a fourth creed, which a deputation of notorious Arianizers presented to Constans in Gaul as the genuine work of the council. It seems to have suited them better than the Lucianic, for they repeated it with increasing series of anathemas at Philippopolis in 343, at Antioch the next year, and at Sirmium in 351. We can see why it suited them. While in substance it is less opposed to Arianism than the Lucianic, its wording follows the Nicene, even to the adoption of the anathemas in a weakened form. Upon the whole, it is a colourless document, which left all questions open. [Sidenote: Constans demands a council.] The wording of the creed of Tyana was a direct blow at Julius of Rome, and is of itself enough to show that its authors were no lovers of peace. But Western suspicion was already roused by the issue of the Lucianic creed. There could no longer be any doubt that the Nicene faith was the real object of attack. Before the Eastern envoys reached Constans in Gaul, he had already written to his brother (Constantine II. was now dead) to demand a new general council. Constantius was busy with the Persian war, and could not refuse; so it was summoned to meet in the summer of 343. To the dismay of the Eusebians, the place chosen was Sardica in Dacia, just inside the dominions of Constans. After their failure with the Eastern bishops at Antioch, they could not hope to control the Westerns in a free council. [Sidenote: Council of Sardica (343).] To Sardica the bishops came. The Westerns were about ninety-six in number, 'with Hosius of Cordova for their father,' bringing with him Athanasius and Marcellus, and supported by the chief Westerns--Gratus of Carthage, Protasius of Milan, Maximus of Trier, Fortunatian of Aquileia, and Vincent of Capua, the old Roman legate at Nicæa. The Easterns, under Stephen of Antioch and Acacius of Cæsarea, the disciple and successor of Eusebius, were for once outnumbered. They therefore travelled in one body, more than seventy strong, and agreed to act together. They began by insisting that the deposition of Marcellus and Athanasius at Antioch should be accepted without discussion. Such a demand was absurd. There was no reason why the deposition at Antioch should be accepted blindly rather than the acquittal at Rome. At any rate, the council had an express commission to re-open the whole case, and indeed had met for no other purpose; so, if they were not to do it, they might as well go home. The Westerns were determined to sift the whole matter to the bottom, but the Eusebians refused to enter the council. It was in vain that Hosius asked them to give their proofs, if it were only to himself in private. In vain he promised that if Athanasius was acquitted, and they were still unwilling to receive him, he would take him back with him to Spain. The Westerns began the trial: the Easterns left Sardica by night in haste. They had heard, forsooth, of a victory on the Persian frontier, and must pay their respects to the Emperor without a moment's delay. [Sidenote: Acquittal of Marcellus and Athanasius.] Once more the charges were examined and the accused acquitted. In the case of Marcellus, it was found that the Eusebians had misquoted his book, setting down opinions as his own which he had only put forward for discussion. Thus it was not true that he had denied the eternity of the Word in the past or of his kingdom in the future. Quite so: but the eternity of the Sonship is another matter. This was the real charge against him, and he was allowed to evade it. Though doctrinal questions lay more in the background in the case of Athanasius, one party in the council was for issuing a new creed in explanation of the Nicene. The proposal was wisely rejected. It would have made the fatal admission that Arianism had not been clearly condemned at Nicæa, and thrown on the Westerns the odium of innovation. All that could be done was to pass a series of canons to check the worst scandals of late years. After this the council issued its encyclical and the bishops dispersed. [Sidenote: Rival council of Philippopolis.] Meanwhile the Easterns (such was their haste) halted for some weeks at Philippopolis to issue their own encyclical, falsely dating it from Sardica. They begin with their main argument, that the acts of councils are irreversible. Next they recite the charges against Athanasius and Marcellus, and the doings of the Westerns at Sardica. Hereupon they denounce Hosius, Julius, and others as associates of heretics and patrons of the detestable errors of Marcellus. A few random charges of gross immorality are added, after the Eusebian custom. They end with a new creed, the fourth of Antioch, with some verbal changes, and seven anathemas instead of two. [Sidenote: The fifth creed of Antioch (344).] The quarrel of East and West seemed worse than ever. The Eusebians had behaved discreditably enough, but they had at least frustrated the council, and secured a recognition of their creed from a large body of Eastern conservatives. So far they had been fairly successful, but the next move on their side was a blunder and worse. When the Sardican envoys, Vincent of Capua and Euphrates of Cologne, came eastward in the spring of 344, a harlot was brought one night into their lodgings. Great was the scandal when the plot was traced up to the Eusebian leader, Stephen of Antioch. A new council was held, by which Stephen was deposed and Leontius the Lucianist, himself the subject of an old scandal, was raised to the vacant see. The fourth creed of Antioch was also re-issued with a few changes, but followed by long paragraphs of explanation. The Easterns adhered to their condemnation of Marcellus, and joined with him his disciple Photinus of Sirmium, who had made the Lord a mere man like the Ebionites. On the other hand, they condemned several Arian phrases, and insisted in the strongest manner on the mutual, inseparable, and, as it were, organic union of the Son with the Father in a single deity. [Sidenote: Return of Athanasius (Oct. 346).] This conciliatory move cleared the way for a general suspension of hostilities. Stephen's crime had discredited the whole gang of Eastern court intriguers who had made the quarrel. Nor were the Westerns unreasonable. Though they still upheld Marcellus, they frankly gave up and condemned Photinus. Meanwhile Constans pressed the execution of the decrees of Sardica, and Constantius, with a Persian war on his hands, could not refuse. The last obstacle was removed by the death of Gregory of Cappadocia in 345. It was not till the third invitation that Athanasius returned. He had to take leave of his Italian friends, and the Emperor's letters were only too plainly insincere. However, Constantius received him graciously at Antioch, ordered all the charges against him to be destroyed, and gave him a solemn promise of full protection for the future. Athanasius went forward on his journey, and the old confessor Maximus assembled the bishops of Palestine to greet him at Jerusalem. But his entry into Alexandria (Oct. 346) was the crowning triumph of his life. For miles along the road the great city streamed out to meet him with enthusiastic welcome, and the jealous police of Constantius could raise no tumult to mar the universal harmony of that great day of national rejoicing. [Sidenote: Interval of rest (346-353.)] The next few years were an uneasy interval of suspense rather than of peace, for the long contest had so far decided nothing. If the Nicene exiles were restored, the Eusebian disturbers were not deposed. Thus while Nicene animosity was not satisfied, the standing grounds of conservative distrust were not removed. Above all, the return of Athanasius was a personal humiliation for Constantius, which he was not likely to accept without watching his opportunity for a final struggle to decide the mastery of Egypt. Still there was tolerable quiet for the present. The court intriguers could do nothing without the Emperor, and Constantius was occupied first with the Persian war, then with the civil war against Magnentius. If there was not peace, there was a fair amount of quiet till the Emperor's hands were freed by the death of Magnentius in 353. [Sidenote: Modification of Nicene position.] The truce was hollow and the rest precarious, but the mere cessation of hostilities was not without its influence. As Nicenes and conservatives were fundamentally agreed on the reality of the Lord's divinity, minor jealousies began to disappear when they were less busily encouraged. The Eusebian phase of conservatism, which emphasised the Lord's personal distinction from the Father, was giving way to the Semiarian, where stress was rather laid on his essential likeness to the Father. Thus 'of a like essence' (_homoiousion_) and 'like in all things' became more and more the watchwords of conservatism. The Nicenes, on the other side, were warned by the excesses of Marcellus that there was some reason for the conservative dread of the Nicene 'of one essence' (_homoousion_) as Sabellian. The word could not be withdrawn, but it might be put forward less conspicuously, and explained rather as a safe and emphatic form of the Semiarian 'of like essence' than as a rival doctrine. Henceforth it came to mean absolute likeness of attributes rather than common possession of the divine essence. Thus by the time the war is renewed, we can already foresee the possibility of a new alliance between Nicenes and conservatives. [Sidenote: Rise of Anomoeans.] We see also the rise of a new and more defiant Arian school, more in earnest than the older generation, impatient of their shuffling diplomacy and less pliant to court influences. Aetius was a man of learning and no small dialectic skill, who had passed through many troubles in his earlier life and been the disciple of several scholars, mostly of the Lucianic school, before he came to rest in a clear and simple form of Arianism. Christianity without mystery seems to have been his aim. The Anomoean leaders took their stand on the doctrine of Arius himself, and dwelt with most emphasis on its most offensive aspects. Arius had long ago laid down the absolute unlikeness of the Son to the Father, but for years past the Arianizers had prudently softened it down. Now, however, 'unlike' became the watchword of Aetius and Eunomius, and their followers delighted to shock all sober feeling by the harshest and profanest declarations of it. The scandalous jests of Eudoxius must have given deep offence to thousands; but the great novelty of the Anomoean doctrine was its audacious self-sufficiency. Seeing that Arius was illogical in regarding the divine nature as incomprehensible, and yet reasoning as if its relations were fully explained by human types, the Anomoeans boldly declared that it is no mystery at all. If the divine essence is simple, man can perfectly understand it. 'Canst thou by searching find out God?' Yes, and know him quite as well as he knows me. Such was the new school of Arianism--presumptuous and shallow, quarrelsome and heathenising, yet not without a directness and a firmness of conviction which gives it a certain dignity in spite of its wrangling and irreverence. Its conservative allies it despised for their wavering and insincerity; to its Nicene opponents it repaid hatred for hatred, and flung back with retorted scorn their denial of its right to bear the Christian name. [Sidenote: Illustration from the state of: (1.) Jerusalem.] We may now glance at the state of the churches at Jerusalem and Antioch during the years of rest. Jerusalem had been a resort of pilgrims since the days of Origen, and Helena's visit shortly after the Nicene council had fully restored it to the dignity of a holy place. We still have the itinerary of a nameless pilgrim who found his way from Bordeaux to Palestine in 333. The great church, however, of the Resurrection, which Constantine built on Golgotha, was only dedicated by the council of 335. The _Catecheses_ of Cyril are a series of sermons on the creed, delivered to the catechumens of that church in 348. If it is not a work of any great originality, it will show us all the better what was passing in the minds of men of practical and simple piety, who had no taste for the controversies of the day. All through it we see the earnest pastor who feels that his strength is needed to combat the practical immoralities of a holy city (Jerusalem was a scandal of the age), and never lifts his eyes to the wild scene of theological confusion round him but in fear and dread that Antichrist is near. 'I fear the wars of the nations; I fear the divisions of the churches; I fear the mutual hatred of the brethren. Enough concerning this. God forbid it come to pass in our days; yet let us be on our guard. Enough concerning Antichrist.' Jews, Samaritans, and Manichees are his chief opponents; yet he does not forget to warn his hearers against the teaching of Sabellius and Marcellus, 'the dragon's head of late arisen in Galatia.' Arius he sometimes contradicts in set terms, though without naming him. Of the Nicenes too, we hear nothing directly, but they seem glanced at in the complaint that whereas in former times heresy was open, the church is now full of secret heretics. The Nicene creed again he never mentions, but we cannot mistake the allusion when he tells his hearers that their own Jerusalem creed was not put together by the will of men, and impresses on them that every word of it can be proved by Scripture. But the most significant feature of his language is its close relation to that of the dated creed of Sirmium in 359. Nearly every point where the latter differs from the Lucianic is one specially emphasized by Cyril. If then the Lucianic creed represents the earlier conservatism, it follows that Cyril expresses the later views which had to be conciliated in 359. [Sidenote: (2.) Antioch.] The condition of Antioch under Leontius (344-357) is equally significant. The Nicene was quite as strong in the city as Arianism had ever been at Alexandria. The Eustathians formed a separate and strongly Nicene congregation under the presbyter Paulinus, and held their meetings outside the walls. Athanasius communicated with them on his return from exile, and agreed to give the Arians a church in Alexandria, as Constantius desired, if only the Eustathians were allowed one inside the walls of Antioch. His terms were prudently declined, for the Arians were a minority even in the congregation of Leontius. The old Arian needed all his caution to avoid offence. 'When this snow melts,' touching his white head, 'there will be much mud.' Nicenes and Arians made a slight difference in the doxology; and Leontius always dropped his voice at the critical point, so that nobody knew what he said. This policy was successful in keeping out of the Eustathian communion not only the indifferent multitude, but also many whose sympathies were clearly Nicene, like the future bishops Meletius and Flavian. But they always considered him an enemy, and the more dangerous for the contrast of his moderation with the reckless violence of Macedonius at Constantinople. His appointments were Arianizing, and he gave deep offence by the ordination of his old disciple, the detested Aetius. So great was the outcry that Leontius was forced to suspend him. The opposition was led by two ascetic laymen, Flavian and Diodorus, who both became distinguished bishops in later time. Orthodox feeling was nourished by a vigorous use of hymns and by all-night services at the tombs of the martyrs. As such practices often led to great abuses, Leontius may have had nothing more in view than good order when he directed the services to be transferred to the church. [Sidenote: State of parties.] The case of Antioch was not exceptional. Arians and Nicenes were still parties inside the church rather than distant sects. They still used the same prayers and the same hymns, still worshipped in the same buildings, still commemorated the same saints and martyrs, and still considered themselves members of the same church. The example of separation set by the Eustathians at Antioch and the Arians at Alexandria was not followed till a later stage of the controversy, when Diodorus and Flavian on one side, and the Anomoeans on the other, began to introduce their own peculiarities into the service. And if the bitterness of intestine strife was increased by a state of things which made every bishop a party nominee, there was some compensation in the free intercourse of parties afterwards separated by barriers of persecution. Nicenes and Arians in most places mingled freely long after Leontius was dead, and the Novatians of Constantinople threw open their churches to the victims of Macedonius in a way which drew his persecution on themselves, and was remembered in their favour even in the next century by liberal men like the historian Socrates. CHAPTER V. _THE VICTORY OF ARIANISM_. [Sidenote: The West (337-350).] Meanwhile new troubles were gathering in the West. While the Eastern churches were distracted with the crimes or wrongs of Marcellus and Athanasius, Europe remained at peace from the Atlantic to the frontier of Thrace. The western frontier of Constantius was also the western limit of the storm. Hitherto its distant echoes had been very faintly heard in Gaul and Spain; but now the time was come for Arianism to invade the tranquil obscurity of the West. [Sidenote: Magnentian war, 350-353.] Constans was not ill-disposed, and for some years ruled well and firmly. Afterwards--it may be that his health was bad--he lived in seclusion with his Frankish guards, and left his subjects to the oppression of unworthy favourites. Few regretted their weak master's fate when the army of Gaul proclaimed Magnentius Augustus (January 350). But the memory of Constantine was still a power which could set up emperors and pull them down. The old general Vetranio at Sirmium received the purple from Constantine's daughter, and Nepotianus claimed it at Rome as Constantine's nephew. The Magnentian generals scattered the gladiators of Nepotianus, and disgraced their easy victory with slaughter and proscription. The ancient mother of the nations never forgave the intruder who had disturbed her queenly rest with civil war and filled her streets with bloodshed. Meantime Constantius came up from Syria, won over the legions of Illyricum, reduced Vetranio to a peaceful abdication, and pushed on with augmented forces towards the Julian Alps, there to decide the strife between Magnentius and the house of Constantine. Both parties tried the resources of intrigue; but while Constantius won over the Frank Silvanus from the Western camp, the envoys of Magnentius, who sounded Athanasius, gained nothing from the wary Greek. The decisive battle was fought near Mursa, on the Save (September 28, 351). Both armies well sustained the honour of the Roman name, and it was only after a frightful slaughter that the usurper was thrown back on Aquileia. Next summer he was forced to evacuate Italy, and in 353 his destruction was completed by a defeat in the Cottian Alps. Magnentius fell upon his sword, and Constantius remained the master of the world. [Sidenote: Renewal of the contest.] The Eusebians were not slow to take advantage of the confusion. The fires of controversy in the East were smouldering through the years of rest, so that it was no hard task to make them blaze afresh. As the recall of the exiles was only due to Western pressure, the death of Constans cleared the way for further operations. Marcellus and Photinus were again deposed by a council held at Sirmium in 351. Ancyra was restored to Basil, Sirmium given to Germinius of Cyzicus. Other Eastern bishops were also expelled, but there was no thought of disturbing Athanasius for the present. Constantius more than once repeated to him his promise of protection. [Sidenote: The Western bishops.] Magnentius had not meddled with the controversy. He was more likely to see in it the chance of an ally at Alexandria than a matter of practical interest in the West. As soon, however, as Constantius was master of Gaul, he set himself to force on the Westerns an indirect condemnation of the Nicene faith in the person of Athanasius. Any direct approval of Arianism was out of the question, for Western feeling was firmly set against it by the council of Nicæa. Liberius of Rome followed the steps of his predecessor Julius. Hosius of Cordova was still the patriarch of Christendom, while Paulinus of Trier, Dionysius of Milan, and Hilary of Poitiers proved their faith in exile. Mere creatures of the palace were no match for men like these. Doctrine was therefore kept in the background. Constantius began by demanding from the Western bishops a summary and lawless condemnation of Athanasius. No evidence was offered; and when an accuser was asked for, the Emperor himself came forward, and this at a time when Athanasius was ruling Alexandria in peace on the faith of his solemn and repeated promises of protection. [Sidenote: Council of Arles (Oct. 353).] A synod was held at Arles as soon as Constantius was settled there for the winter. The bishops were not unwilling to take the Emperor's word for the crimes of Athanasius, if only the court party cleared itself from the suspicion of heresy by anathematizing Arianism. Much management and no little violence was needed to get rid of this condition; but in the end the council yielded. Even the Roman legate, Vincent of Capua, gave way with the rest, and Paulinus of Trier alone stood firm, and was sent away to die in exile. [Sidenote: Council of Milan (Oct. 355).] There was a sort of armed truce for the next two years. Liberius of Rome disowned the weakness of his legates and besought the Emperor to hold a new council. But Constantius was busy with the barbarians, and had to leave the matter till he came to Milan in the autumn of 355. There Julian was invested with the purple and sent as Cæsar to drive the Alemanni out of Gaul, or, as some hoped, to perish in the effort. The council, however, was for a long time quite unmanageable, and only yielded at last to open violence. Dionysius of Milan, Eusebius of Vercellæ, and Lucifer of Calaris in Sardinia were the only bishops who had to be exiled. [Sidenote: Lucifer of Calaris.] The appearance of Lucifer is enough to show that the contest had entered on a new stage. The lawless tyranny of Constantius had roused an aggressive fanaticism which went far beyond the claim of independence for the church. In dauntless courage and determined orthodoxy Lucifer may rival Athanasius himself, but any cause would have been disgraced by his narrow partisanship and outrageous violence. Not a bad name in Scripture but is turned to use. Indignation every now and then supplies the place of eloquence, but more often common sense itself is almost lost in the weary flow of vulgar scolding and interminable abuse. He scarcely condescends to reason, scarcely even to state his own belief, but revels in the more congenial occupation of denouncing the fires of damnation against the disobedient Emperor. [Sidenote: Hilary of Poitiers.] The victory was not to be won by an arm of flesh like this. Arianism had an enemy more dangerous than Lucifer. From the sunny land of Aquitaine, the firmest conquest of Roman civilization in Atlantic Europe, came Hilary of Poitiers, the noblest representative of Western literature in the Nicene age. Hilary was by birth a heathen, and only turned in ripe manhood from philosophy to Scripture, coming before us in 355 as an old convert and a bishop of some standing. He was by far the deepest thinker of the West, and a match for Athanasius himself in depth of earnestness and massive strength of intellect. But Hilary was a student rather than an orator, a thinker rather than a statesman like Athanasius. He had not touched the controversy till it was forced upon him, and would much have preferred to keep out of it. But when once he had studied the Nicene doctrine and found its agreement with his own conclusions from Scripture, a clear sense of duty forbade him to shrink from manfully defending it. Such was the man whom the brutal policy of Constantius forced to take his place at the head of the Nicene opposition. As he was not present at Milan, the courtiers had to silence him some other way. In the spring of 356 they exiled him to Asia, on some charge of conduct 'unworthy of a bishop, or even of a layman.' [Sidenote: Hosius and Liberius.] Meanwhile Hosius of Cordova was ordered to Sirmium and there detained. Constantius was not ashamed to send to the rack the old man who had been a confessor in his grandfather's days, more than fifty years before. He was brought at last to communicate with the Arianizers, but even in his last illness refused to condemn Athanasius. After this there was but one power in the West which could not be summarily dealt with. The grandeur of Hosius was merely personal, but Liberius claimed the universal reverence due to the apostolic and imperial See of Rome. It was a great and wealthy church, and during the last two hundred years had won a noble fame for world-wide charity. Its orthodoxy was without a stain; for whatever heresies might flow to the great city, no heresy had ever issued thence. The strangers of every land who found their way to Rome were welcomed from St. Peter's throne with the majestic blessing of a universal father. 'The church of God which sojourneth in Rome' was the immemorial counsellor of all the churches; and now that the voice of counsel was passing into that of command, Bishop Julius had made a worthy use of his authority as a judge of Christendom. Such a bishop was a power of the first importance now that Arianism was dividing the Empire round the hostile camps of Gaul and Asia. If the Roman church had partly ceased to be a Greek colony in the Latin capital, it was still the connecting link of East and West, the representative of Western Christianity to the Easterns, and the interpreter of Eastern to the Latin West. Liberius could therefore treat almost on the footing of an independent sovereign. He would not condemn Athanasius unheard, and after so many acquittals. If Constantius wanted to reopen the case, he must summon a free council, and begin by expelling the Arians. To this demand he firmly adhered. The Emperor's threats he disregarded, the Emperor's gifts he flung out of the church. It was not long before Constantius was obliged to risk the scandal of seizing and carrying off the bishop of Rome. [Sidenote: Third exile of Athanasius (356).] Athanasius was still at Alexandria. When the notaries tried to frighten him away, he refused to take their word against the repeated written promises of protection he had received from Constantius himself. Duty as well as policy forbade him to believe that the most pious Emperor could be guilty of any such treachery. So when Syrianus, the general in Egypt, brought up his troops, it was agreed to refer the whole question to Constantius. Syrianus broke the agreement. On a night of vigil (Feb. 8, 356) he surrounded the church of Theonas with a force of more than five thousand men. The whole congregation was caught as in a net. The doors were broken open, and the troops pressed up the church. Athanasius fainted in the tumult; yet before they reached the bishop's throne its occupant had somehow been safely conveyed away. [Sidenote: George of Cappadocia.] If the soldiers connived at the escape of Athanasius, they were all the less disposed to spare his flock. The outrages of Philagrius and Gregory were repeated by Syrianus and his successor, Sebastian the Manichee; and the evil work went on apace after the arrival of the new bishop in Lent 357. George of Cappadocia is said to have been before this a pork-contractor for the army, and is certainly no credit to Arianism. Though Athanasius does injustice to his learning, there can be no doubt that he was a thoroughly bad bishop. Indiscriminate oppression of Nicenes and heathens provoked resistance from the fierce populace of Alexandria. George escaped with difficulty from one riot in August 358, and was fairly driven from the city by another in October. [Sidenote: Athanasius in exile (356-362).] Meanwhile Athanasius had disappeared from the eyes of men. A full year after the raid of Syrianus, he was still unconvinced of the Emperor's treachery. Outrage after outrage might turn out to be the work of underlings. Constantine himself had not despised his cry for justice, and if he could but stand before the son of Constantine, his presence might even yet confound the gang of eunuchs. Even the weakness of Athanasius is full of nobleness. Not till the work of outrage had gone on for many months was he convinced. But then he threw off all restraint. Even George the pork-contractor is not assailed with such a storm of merciless invective as his holiness Constantius Augustus. George might sin 'like the beasts who know no better,' but no wickedness of common mortals could attain to that of the new Belshazzar, of the Lord's anointed 'self-abandoned to eternal fire.' [Sidenote: Political meaning of his exile.] The exile governed Egypt from his hiding in the desert. Alexandria was searched in vain; in vain the malice of Constantius pursued him to the court of Ethiopia. Letter after letter issued from his inaccessible retreat to keep alive the indignation of the faithful, and invisible hands conveyed them to the farthest corners of the land. Constantius had his revenge, but it shook the Empire to its base. It was the first time since the fall of Israel that a nation had defied the Empire in the name of God. It was a national rising, none the less real for not breaking out in formal war. This time Greeks and Copts were united in defence of the Nicene faith, so that the contest was at an end when the Empire gave up Arianism. But the next breach was never healed. Monophysite Egypt was a dead limb of the Empire, and the Roman power beyond Mount Taurus fell before the Saracens because the provincials would not lift a hand to fight for the heretics of Chalcedon. [Sidenote: The Sirmian manifesto (357).] The victory seemed won when the last great enemy was driven into the desert, and the intriguers hasted to the spoil. They forgot that the West was only overawed for the moment, that Egypt was devoted to its patriarch, that there was a strong opposition in the East, and that the conservatives, who had won the battle for them, were not likely to take up Arianism at the bidding of their unworthy leaders. Amongst the few prominent Eusebians of the West were two disciples of Arius who held the neighbouring bishoprics of Mursa and Singidunum, the modern Belgrade. Valens and Ursacius were young men in 335, but old enough to take a part in the infamous Egyptian commission of the council of Tyre. Since that time they had been well to the front in the Eusebian plots. In 347, however, they had found it prudent to make their peace with Julius of Rome by confessing the falsehood of their charges against Athanasius. Of late they had been active on the winning side, and enjoyed much influence with Constantius. Thinking it now safe to declare more openly for Arianism, they called a few bishops to Sirmium in the summer of 357, and issued a manifesto of their belief for the time being, to the following general effect. 'We acknowledge one God the Father, also His only Son, Jesus Christ our Lord. But two Gods must not be preached. The Father is without beginning, invisible, and in every respect greater than the Son, who is subject to Him together with the creatures. The Son is born of the Father, God of God, by an inscrutable generation, and took flesh or body, that is, man, through which he suffered. The words _essence_, _of the same essence_, _of like essence_, ought not to be used, because they are not found in Scripture, and because the divine generation is beyond our understanding.' Here is something to notice besides the repeated hints that the Son is no better than a creature. It was a new policy to make the mystery in the manner of the divine generation an excuse for ignoring the fact. In this case the plea of ignorance is simply impertinent. [Sidenote: Its results in general.] The Sirmian manifesto is the turning-point of the whole contest. Arianism had been so utterly crushed at Nicæa that it had never again till now appeared in a public document. Henceforth the conservatives were obliged in self-defence to look for a Nicene alliance against the Anomoeans. Suspicions and misunderstandings, and at last mere force, delayed its consolidation till the reign of Theodosius, but the Eusebian coalition fell to pieces the moment Arianism ventured to have a policy of its own. [Sidenote: (1.) In the West.] Ursacius and Valens had blown a trumpet which was heard from one end of the Empire to the other. Its avowal of Arianism caused a stir even in the West. Unlike the creeds of Antioch, it was a Western document, drawn up in Latin by Western bishops. The spirit of the West was fairly roused, now that the battle was clearly for the faith. The bishops of Rome, Cordova, Trier, Poitiers, Toulouse, Calaris, Milan, and Vercellæ were in exile, but Gaul was now partly shielded from persecution by the varying fortunes of Julian's Alemannic war. Thus everything increased the ferment. Phoebadius of Agen took the lead, and a Gaulish synod at once condemned the 'blasphemy.' [Sidenote: (2.) In the East.] If the Sirmian manifesto disturbed the West, it spread dismay through the ranks of the Eastern conservatives. Plain men were weary of the strife, and only the fishers in troubled waters wanted more of it. Now that Marcellus and Photinus had been expelled, the Easterns looked for rest. But the Sirmian manifesto opened an abyss at their feet. The fruits of their hard-won victories over Sabellianism were falling to the Anomoeans. They must even defend themselves, for Ursacius and Valens had the Emperor's ear. As if to bring the danger nearer home to them, Eudoxius the new bishop of Antioch, and Acacius of Cæsarea convened a Syrian synod, and sent a letter of thanks to the authors of the manifesto. [Sidenote: Synod of Ancyra (Lent, 358).] Next spring came the conservative reply from a knot of twelve bishops who had met to consecrate a new church for Basil of Ancyra. But its weight was far beyond its numbers. Basil's name stood high for learning, and he more than any man could sway the vacillating Emperor. Eustathius of Sebastia was another man of mark. His ascetic eccentricities, long ago condemned by the council of Gangra, were by this time forgotten or considered harmless. Above all, the synod represented most of the Eastern bishops. Pontus indeed was devoted to conservatism, and the decided Arianizers were hardly more than a busy clique even in Asia and Syria. Its decisions show the awkwardness to be expected from men who have had to make a sudden change of front, and exhibit well the transition from Eusebian to Semiarian conservatism. They seem to start from the declaration of the Lucianic creed, that the Lord's sonship is not an idle name. Now if we reject materialising views of the Divine Sonship, its primary meaning will be found to lie in similarity of essence. On this ground the Sirmian manifesto is condemned. Then follow eighteen anathemas, alternately aimed at Aetius and Marcellus. The last of these condemns the Nicene _of one essence_--clearly as Sabellian, though no reason is given. [Sidenote: Victory of the Semiarians.] The synod broke up. Basil and Eustathius went to lay its decisions before the court at Sirmium. To conciliate the Nicenes, they left out the last six anathemas of Ancyra. They were just in time to prevent Constantius from declaring for Eudoxius and the Anomoeans. Peace was made before long on Semiarian terms. A collection was made of the decisions against Photinus and Paul of Samosata, together with the Lucianic creed, and signed by Liberius of Rome, by Ursacius and Valens, and by all the Easterns present. Liberius had not borne exile well. He had already signed some still more compromising document, and is denounced for it as an apostate by Hilary and others. However, he was now allowed to return to his see. [Sidenote: The Semiarian failure.] The Semiarians had won a complete victory. Their next step was to throw it away. The Anomoean leaders were sent into exile. After all, these Easterns only wanted to replace one tyranny by another. The exiles were soon recalled, and the strife began again with more bitterness than ever. [Sidenote: Rise of the Homoeans.] Here was an opening for a new party. Semiarians, Nicenes, and Anomoeans were equally unable to settle this interminable controversy. The Anomoeans indeed almost deserved success for their boldness and activity, but pure Arianism was hopelessly discredited throughout the Empire. The Nicenes had Egypt and the West, but they could not at present overcome the court and Asia. The Semiarians might have mediated, but men who began with persecutions and wholesale exiles were not likely to end with peace. In this deadlock better men than Ursacius and Valens might have been tempted to try some scheme of compromise. But existing parties left no room for anything but vague and spacious charity. If we may say neither _of one essence_ nor _of like essence_, nor yet _unlike_, the only course open is to say _like_, and forbid nearer definition. This was the plan of the new Homoean party formed by Acacius in the East, Ursacius and Valens in the West. [Sidenote: New relations of parties.] Parties began to group themselves afresh. The Anomoeans leaned to the side of Acacius. They had no favour to expect from Nicenes or Semiarians, but to the Homoeans they could look for connivance at least. The Semiarians were therefore obliged to draw still closer to the Nicenes. Here came in Hilary of Poitiers. If he had seen in exile the worldliness of too many of the Asiatic bishops, he had also found among them men of a better sort who were in earnest against Arianism, and not so far from the Nicene faith as was supposed. To soften the mutual suspicions of East and West, he addressed his _De Synodis_ to his Gaulish friends about the end of 358. In it he reviews the Eusebian creeds to show that they are not indefensible. He also compares the rival phrases _of one essence_ and _of like essence_, to shew that either of them may be rightly or wrongly used. The two, however, are properly identical, for there is no likeness but that of unity, and no use in the idea of likeness but to exclude Sabellian confusion. Only the Nicene phrase guards against evasion, and the other does not. [Sidenote: Summons for a council.] Now that the Semiarians were forced to treat with their late victims on equal terms, they agreed to hold a general council. Both parties might hope for success. If the Homoean influence was increasing at court, the Semiarians were strong in the East, and could count on some help from the Western Nicenes. But the court was resolved to secure a decision to its own mind. As a council of the whole Empire might have been too independent, it was divided. The Westerns were to meet at Ariminum in Italy, the Easterns at Seleucia in Isauria; and in case of disagreement, ten deputies from each side were to hold a conference before the Emperor. A new creed was also to be drawn up before their meeting and laid before them for acceptance. [Sidenote: The 'Dated Creed' (May 22, 359).] The 'Dated Creed' was drawn up at Sirmium on Pentecost Eve 359, by a small meeting of Homoean and Semiarian leaders. Its prevailing character is conservative, as we see from its repeated appeals to Scripture, its solemn tone of reverence for the person of the Lord, its rejection of the word _essence_ for the old conservative reason that it is not found in Scripture, and above all, from its elaborate statement of the eternity and mysterious nature of the divine generation. The chief clause however is, 'But we say that the Son is _like_ the Father in all things, as the Scriptures say and teach.' Though the phrase here is Homoean, the doctrine seems at first sight Semiarian, not to say Nicene. In point of fact, the clause is quite ambiguous. First, if the comma is put before _in all things_, the next words will merely forbid any extension of the likeness beyond what Scripture allows; and the Anomoeans were quite entitled to sign it with the explanation that for their part they found very little likeness taught in Scripture. Again, likeness in all things cannot extend to essence, for all likeness which is not identity implies difference, if only the comparison is pushed far enough. So the Anomoeans argued, and Athanasius accepts their reasoning. The Semiarians had ruined their position by attempting to compromise a fundamental contradiction. The whole contest was lowered to a court intrigue. There is grandeur in the flight of Athanasius, dignity in the exile of Eunomius; but the conservatives fell ignobly and unregretted, victims of their own violence and unprincipled intrigue. [Sidenote: Western Council at Ariminum.] After signing the creed, Ursacius and Valens went on to Ariminum, with the Emperor's orders to the council to take doctrinal questions first, and not to meddle with Eastern affairs. They found the Westerns waiting for them, to the number of more than two hundred. The bishops were in no courtly temper, and the intimidation was not likely to be an easy task. They had even refused the usual imperial help for the expenses of the journey. Three British bishops only accepted it on the ground of poverty. The new creed was very ill received; and when the Homoean leaders refused to anathematize Arianism, they were deposed, 'not only for their present conspiracy to introduce heresy, but also for the confusion they had caused in all the churches by their repeated changes of faith.' The last clause was meant for Ursacius and Valens. The Nicene creed was next confirmed, and a statement added in defence of the word _essence_. This done, envoys were sent to report at court and ask the Emperor to dismiss them to their dioceses, from which they could ill be spared. Constantius was busy with his preparations for the Persian war, and refused to see them. They were sent to wait his leisure, first at Hadrianople, then at the neighbouring town of Nicé (chosen to cause confusion with Nicæa), where Ursacius and Valens induced them to sign a revision of the dated creed. The few changes made in it need not detain us. [Sidenote: Eastern Council at Seleucia.] Meanwhile the Easterns met at Seleucia near the Cilician coast. It was a fairly central spot, and easy of access from Egypt and Syria by sea, but otherwise most unsuitable. It was a mere fortress, lying in a rugged country, where the spurs of Mount Taurus reach the sea. Around it were the ever-restless marauders of Isauria. They had attacked the place that very spring, and it was still the headquarters of the army sent against them. The choice of such a place is as significant as if a Pan-Anglican synod were called to meet at the central and convenient port of Souakin. Naturally the council was a small one. Of the 150 bishops present, about 110 were Semiarians. The Acacians and Anomoeans were only forty, but they had a clear plan and the court in their favour. As the Semiarian leaders had put themselves in a false position by signing the dated creed, the conservative defence was taken up by men of the second rank, like Silvanus of Tarsus and the old soldier Eleusius of Cyzicus. With them, however, came Hilary of Poitiers, who, though still an exile, had been summoned with the rest. The Semiarians welcomed him, and received him to full communion. [Sidenote: Its proceedings.] Next morning the first sitting was held. The Homoeans began by proposing to abolish the Nicene creed in favour of one to be drawn up in scriptural language. Some of them argued in defiance of their own Sirmian creed, that 'generation is unworthy of God. The Lord is creature, not Son, and his generation is nothing but creation.' The Semiarians, however, had no objection to the Nicene creed beyond the obscurity of the word _of one essence_. The still more important _of the essence of the Father_ seems to have passed without remark. Towards evening Silvanus of Tarsus proposed to confirm the Lucianic creed, which was done next morning by the Semiarians only. On the third day the Count Leonas, who represented the Emperor, read a document given him by Acacius, which turned out to be the dated creed revised afresh and with a new preface. In this the Homoeans say that they are far from despising the Lucianic creed, though it was composed with reference to other controversies. The words _of one essence_ and _of like essence_ are next rejected because they are not found in Scripture, and the new Anomoean _unlike_ is anathematized--'but we clearly confess the likeness of the Son to the Father, according to the apostle's words, Who is the image of the invisible God.' There was a hot dispute on the fourth day, when Acacius explained the likeness as one of will only, not extending to essence, and refused to be bound by his own defence of the Lucianic creed against Marcellus. Semiarian horror was not diminished when an extract was read from an obscene sermon preached by Eudoxius at Antioch. At last Eleusius broke in upon Acacius--'Any hole-and-corner doings of yours at Sirmium are no concern of ours. Your creed is not the Lucianic, and that is quite enough to condemn it.' This was decisive. Next morning the Semiarians had the church to themselves, for the Homoeans, and even Leonas, refused to come. 'They might go and chatter in the church if they pleased.' So they deposed Acacius, Eudoxius, George of Alexandria, and six others. [Sidenote: Athanasius _de Synodis_.] The exiled patriarch of Alexandria was watching from his refuge in the desert, and this was the time he chose for an overture of friendship to his old conservative enemies. If he was slow to see his opportunity, at least he used it nobly. The Eastern church has no more honoured name than that of Athanasius, yet even Athanasius rises above himself in his _De Synodis_. He had been a champion of controversy since his youth, and spent his manhood in the forefront of its hottest battle. The care of many churches rested on him, the pertinacity of many enemies wore out his life. Twice he had been driven to the ends of the earth, and twice come back in triumph; and now, far on in life, he saw his work again destroyed, himself once more a fugitive. We do not look for calm impartiality in a Demosthenes, and cannot wonder if the bitterness of his long exile grows on even Athanasius. Yet no sooner is he cheered with the news of hope, than the jealousies which had grown for forty years are hushed in a moment, as though the Lord himself had spoken peace to the tumult of the grey old exile's troubled soul. To the impenitent Arians he is as severe as ever, but for old enemies returning to a better mind he has nothing but brotherly consideration and respectful sympathy. Men like Basil of Ancyra, says he, are not to be set down as Arians or treated as enemies, but to be reasoned with as brethren who differ from us only about the use of a word which sums up their own teaching as well as ours. When they confess that the Lord is a true Son of God and not a creature, they grant all that we care to contend for. Their own _of like essence_ without the addition of _from the essence_ does not exclude the idea of a creature, but the two together are precisely equivalent to _of one essence_. Our brethren accept the two separately: we join them in a single word. Their _of like essence_ is by itself misleading, for likeness is of properties and qualities, not of essence, which must be either the same or different. Thus the word rather suggests than excludes the limited idea of a sonship which means no more than a share of grace, whereas our _of one essence_ quite excludes it. Sooner or later they will see their way to accept a term which is a necessary safeguard for the belief they hold in common with ourselves. [Sidenote: End of the Council of Ariminum.] There could be no doubt of the opinion of the churches when the councils had both so decidedly refused the dated creed; but the court was not yet at the end of its resources. The Western deputies were sent back to Ariminum, and the bishops, already reduced to great distress by their long detention, were plied with threats and cajolery till most of them yielded. When Phoebadius and a score of others remained firm, their resistance was overcome by as shameless a piece of villany as can be found in history. Valens came forward and declared that he was not one of the Arians, but heartily detested their blasphemies. The creed would do very well as it stood, and the Easterns had accepted it already; but if Phoebadius was not satisfied, he was welcome to propose additions. A stringent series of anathemas was therefore drawn up against Arius and all his misbelief. Valens himself contributed one against 'those who say that the Son of God is a creature like other creatures.' The court party accepted everything, and the council met for a final reading of the amended creed. Shout after shout of joy rang through the church when Valens protested that the heresies were none of his, and with his own lips pronounced the whole series of anathemas; and when Claudius of Picenum produced a few more rumours of heresy, 'which my lord and brother Valens has forgotten,' they were disavowed with equal readiness. The hearts of all men melted towards the old dissembler, and the bishops dispersed from Ariminum in the full belief that the council would take its place in history among the bulwarks of the faith. [Sidenote: Conferences at Constantinople.] The Western council was dissolved in seeming harmony, but a strong minority disputed the conclusions of the Easterns at Seleucia. Both parties, therefore, hurried to Constantinople. But there Acacius was in his element. He held a splendid position as the bishop of a venerated church, the disciple and successor of Eusebius, and himself a patron of learning and a writer of high repute. His fine gifts of subtle thought and ready energy, his commanding influence and skilful policy, marked him out for a glorious work in history, and nothing but his own falseness degraded him to be the greatest living master of backstairs intrigue. If Athanasius is the Demosthenes of the Nicene age, Acacius will be its Æschines. He had found his account in abandoning conservatism for pure Arianism, and was now preparing to complete his victory by a new treachery to the Anomoeans. He had anathematized _unlike_ at Seleucia, and now sacrificed Aetius to the Emperor's dislike of him. After this it became possible to enforce the prohibition of the Nicene _of like essence_. Meanwhile the final report arrived from Ariminum. Valens at once gave an Arian meaning to the anathemas of Phoebadius. 'Not a creature like other creatures.' Then creature he is. 'Not from nothing.' Quite so: from the will of the Father. 'Eternal.' Of course, as regards the future. However, the Homoeans repeated the process of swearing that they were not Arians; the Emperor threatened; and at last the Seleucian deputies signed the decisions of Ariminum late on the last night of the year 359. [Sidenote: Deposition of the Semiarians]. Acacius had won his victory, and had now to pass sentence on his rivals. Next month a council was held at Constantinople. As the Semiarians of Asia were prudent enough to absent themselves, the Homoeans were dominant. Its first step was to re-issue the creed of Nicé with a number of verbal changes. The anathemas of Phoebadius having served their purpose, were of course omitted. Next Aetius was degraded and anathematized for his impious and heretical writings, and as 'the author of all the scandals, troubles, and divisions.' This was needed to satisfy Constantius; but as many as nine bishops were found to protest against it. They were given six months to reconsider the matter, and soon began to form communities of their own. Having cleared themselves from the charge of heresy by laying the foundation of a permanent schism, the Homoeans could proceed to the expulsion of the Semiarian leaders. As men who had signed the creed of Nicé could not well be accused of heresy, they were deposed for various irregularities. [Sidenote: The Homoean supremacy.] The Homoean supremacy established at Constantinople was limited to the East. Violence was its only resource beyond the Alps; and violence was out of the question after the mutiny at Paris (Jan. 360) had made Julian master of Gaul. Now that he could act for himself, common sense as well as inclination forbade him to go on with the mischievous policy of Constantius. So there was no further question of Arian domination. Few bishops were committed to the losing side, and those few soon disappeared in the course of nature. Auxentius the Cappadocian, who held the see of Milan till 374, must have been one of the last survivors of the victors of Ariminum. In the East, however, the Homoean supremacy lasted nearly twenty years. No doubt it was an artificial power, resting partly on court intrigue, partly on the divisions of its enemies; yet there was a reason for its long duration. Eusebian conservatism was fairly worn out, but the Nicene doctrine had not yet replaced it. Men were tired of these philosophical word-battles, and ready to ask whether the difference between Nicé and Nicæa was worth fighting about. The Homoean formula seemed reverent and safe, and its bitterest enemies could hardly call it false. When even the court preached peace and charity, the sermon was not likely to want an audience. [Sidenote: The Homoean policy.] The Homoeans were at first less hostile to the Nicene faith than the Eusebians had been. After sacrificing Aetius and exiling the Semiarians, they could hardly do without Nicene support. Thus their appointments were often made from the quieter men of Nicene leanings. If we have to set on the other side the enthronement of Eudoxius at Constantinople and the choice of Eunomius the Anomoean for the see of Cyzicus, we can only say that the Homoean party was composed of very discordant elements. [Sidenote: Appointment of Meletius.] The most important nomination ascribed to Acacius is that of Meletius at Antioch to replace Eudoxius. The new bishop was a man of distinguished eloquence and undoubted piety, and further suited for a dangerous elevation by his peaceful temper and winning manners. He was counted among the Homoeans, and they had placed him a year before in the room of Eustathius at Sebastia, so that his uncanonical translation to Antioch engaged him all the more to remain on friendly terms with them. Such a man--and of course Acacius was shrewd enough to see it--would have been a tower of strength to them. Unfortunately, for once Acacius was not all-powerful. Some evil-disposed person put Constantius on demanding from the new bishop a sermon on the crucial text 'The Lord created me.'[13] Acacius, who preached first, evaded the test, but Meletius, as a man of honour, could not refuse to declare himself. To the delight of the congregation, his doctrine proved decidedly Nicene. It was a test for his hearers as well as for himself. He carefully avoided technical terms, repudiated Marcellus, and repeatedly deprecated controversy on the ineffable mystery of the divine generation. In a word, he followed closely the lines of the Sirmian creed; and his treatment by the Homoeans is a decisive proof of their insincerity. The people applauded, but the courtiers were covered with shame. There was nothing for it but to exile Meletius at once and appoint a new bishop. This time they made sure of their man by choosing Euzoius, the old friend of Arius. But the mischief was already done. The old congregation of Leontius was broken up, and a new schism, more dangerous than the Eustathian, formed round Meletius. Many jealousies still divided him from the Nicenes, but his bold confession was the first effective blow at the Homoean supremacy. [Footnote 13: Prov. Viii. 21. LXX. translation.] [Sidenote: Affairs in 361.] The idea of conciliating Nicene support was not entirely given up. Acacius remained on friendly terms with Meletius, and was still able to name Pelagius for the see of Laodicea. But Euzoius was an avowed Arian; Eudoxius differed little from him, and only the remaining scruples of Constantius delayed the victory of the Anomoeans. CHAPTER VI. _THE REIGN OF JULIAN._ [Sidenote: Earlier life of Julian.] Flavius Claudius Julianus was the son of Constantine's half-brother, Julius Constantius, by his second wife, Basilina, a lady of the great Anician family. He was born in 331, and lost his mother a few months later, while his father and other relations perished in the massacre which followed Constantine's death. Julian and his half-brother Gallus escaped the slaughter to be kept almost as prisoners of state, surrounded through their youth with spies and taught by hypocrites a repulsive Christianity. Julian, however, had a literary education from his mother's old teacher, the eunuch Mardonius; and this was his happiness till he was old enough to attend the rhetoricians at Nicomedia and elsewhere. Gallus was for a while Cæsar in Syria (351-354), and after his execution, Julian's own life was only saved by the Empress Eusebia, who got permission for him to retire to the schools of Athens. In 355 he was made Cæsar in Gaul, and with much labour freed the province from the Germans. Early in 360 the soldiers mutinied at Paris and proclaimed Julian Augustus. Negotiations followed, and it was not till the summer of 361 that Julian pushed down the Danube. By the time he halted at Naissus, he was master of three-quarters of the Empire. There seemed no escape from civil war now that the main army of Constantius was coming up from Syria. But one day two barbarian counts rode into Julian's camp with the news that Constantius was dead. A sudden fever had carried him off in Cilicia (Nov. 3, 361), and the Eastern army presented its allegiance to Julian Augustus. [Sidenote: Julian's heathenism.] Before we can understand Julian's influence on the Arian controversy, we shall have to take a wider view of the Emperor himself and of his policy towards the Christians generally. The life of Julian is one of the noblest wrecks in history. The years of painful self-repression and forced dissimulation which turned his bright youth to bitterness and filled his mind with angry prejudice, had only consolidated his self-reliant pride and firm determination to walk worthily before the gods. In four years his splendid energy and unaffected kindliness had won all hearts in Gaul; and Julian related nothing of his sense of duty to the Empire when he found himself master of the world at the age of thirty. But here came in that fatal heathen prejudice, which put him in a false relation to all the living powers of his time, and led directly even to his military disaster in Assyria. Heathen pride came to him with Basilina's Roman blood, and the dream-world of his lonely youth was a world of heathen literature. Christianity was nothing to him but 'the slavery of a Persian prison.' Fine preachers of the kingdom of heaven were those fawning eunuchs and episcopal sycophants, with Constantius behind them, the murderer of all his family! Every force about him worked for heathenism. The teaching of Mardonius was practically heathen, and the rest were as heathen as utter worldliness could make them. He could see through men like George the pork-contractor or the shameless renegade Hecebolius. Full of thoughts like these, which corroded his mind the more for the danger of expressing them, Julian was easily won to heathenism by the fatherly welcome of the philosophers at Nicomedia (351). Like a voice of love from heaven came their teaching, and Julian gave himself heart and soul to the mysterious fascination of their lying theurgy. Henceforth King Sun was his guardian deity, and Greece his Holy Land, and the philosopher's mantle dearer to him than the diadem of empire. For ten more years of painful dissimulation Julian 'walked with the gods' in secret, before the young lion of heathenism could openly throw off the 'donkey's skin' of Christianity. [Sidenote: Julian's reorganisation of heathenism.] Once master of the world, Julian could see its needs without using the eyes of the Asiatic camarilla. First of all, Christian domination must be put down. Not that he wanted to raise a savage persecution. Cruelty had been well tried before, and it would be a poor success to stamp out the 'Galilean' imposture without putting something better in its place. As the Christians 'had filled the world with their tombs' (Julian's word for churches), so must it be filled with the knowledge of the living gods. Sacrifices were encouraged and a pagan hierarchy set up to oppose the Christian. Heathen schools were to confront the Christian, and heathen almshouses were to grow up round them. Above all, the priests were to cultivate temperance and hospitality, and to devote themselves to grave and pious studies. Julian himself was a model of heathen purity, and spared no pains to infect his wondering subjects with his own enthusiasm for the cause of the immortal gods. Not a temple missed its visit, not a high place near his line of march was left unclimbed. As for his sacrifices, they were by the hecatomb. The very abjects called him Slaughterer. [Sidenote: His failure.] Never was a completer failure. Crowds of course applauded Cæsar, but only with the empty cheers they gave the jockeys or the preachers. Multitudes came to see an Emperors devotions, but they only quizzed his shaggy beard or tittered at the antiquated ceremonies. Sacrificial dinners kept the soldiers devout, and lavish bribery secured a good number of renegades--mostly waverers, who really had not much to change. Of the bishops, Pegasius of Ilium alone laid down his office for a priesthood; but he had always been a heathen at heart, and worshipped the gods even while he held his bishopric. The Christians upon the whole stood firm. Even the heathens were little moved. Julian's own teachers held cautiously aloof from his reforms; and if meaner men paused in their giddy round of pleasure, it was only to amuse themselves with the strange spectacle of imperial earnestness. Neither friends nor enemies seemed able to take him quite seriously. [Sidenote: Julian's policy against Christianity.] Passing over scattered cases of persecution encouraged or allowed by Julian, we may state generally that he aimed at degrading Christianity into a vulgar superstition, by breaking its connections with civilized government on one side, with liberal education on the other. One part of it was to deprive the 'Galileans' of state support and weed them out as far as might be from the public service, while still leaving them full freedom to quarrel amongst themselves; the other was to cut them off from literature by forbidding them to teach the classics. Homer and Hesiod were prophets of the gods, and must not be expounded by unbelievers. Matthew and Luke were good enough for barbarian ears like theirs. We need not pause to note the impolicy of an edict which Julian's own admirer Ammianus wishes 'buried in eternal silence.' Its effect on the Christians was very marked. Marius Victorinus, the favoured teacher of the Roman nobles, at once resigned his chair of rhetoric. The studies of his old age had brought him to confess his faith in Christ, and he would not now deny his Lord. Julian's own teacher Proæresius gave up his chair at Athens, refusing the special exemption which was offered him. It was not all loss for the Christians to be reminded that the gospel is revelation, not philosophy--life and not discussion. But Greek literature was far too weak to bear the burden of a sinking world, and its guardians could not have devised a more fatal plan than this of setting it in direct antagonism to the living power of Christianity. In our regret for the feud between Hellenic culture and the mediæval churches, we must not forget that it was Julian who drove in the wedge of separation. [Sidenote: Julian's toleration.] We can now sum up in a sentence. Every blow struck at Christianity by Julian fell first on the Arianizers whom Constantius had left in power, and the reaction he provoked against heathen learning directly threatened the philosophical postulates of Arianism within the church. In both ways he powerfully helped the Nicene cause. The Homoeans could not stand without court support, and the Anomoeans threw away their rhetoric on men who were beginning to see how little ground is really common to the gospel and philosophy. Yet he cared little for the party quarrels of the Christians. Instead of condescending to take a side, he told them contemptuously to keep the peace. His first step was to proclaim full toleration for all sorts and sects of men. It was only too easy to strike at the church by doing common justice to the sects. A few days later came an edict recalling the exiled bishops. Their property was restored, but they were not replaced in their churches. Others were commonly in possession, and it was no business of Julian's to turn them out. The Galileans might look after their own squabbles. This sounds fairly well, and suits his professions of toleration; but Julian had a malicious hope of still further embroiling the ecclesiastical confusion. If the Christians were only left to themselves, they might be trusted 'to quarrel like beasts.' [Sidenote: Its results.] Julian was gratified with a few unseemly wrangles, but the general result of his policy was unexpected. It took the Christians by surprise, and fairly shamed them into a sort of truce. The very divisions of churches are in some sense a sign of life, for men who do not care about religion will usually find something else to quarrel over. If nations redeem each other, so do parties; and the dignified slumber of a catholic uniformity may be more fatal to spiritual life than the vulgar wranglings of a thousand sects. The Christians closed their ranks before the common enemy. Nicenes and Arians forgot their enmity in the pleasant task of reviling the gods and cursing Julian. A yell of execration ran all along the Christian line, from the extreme Apollinarian right to the furthest Anomoean left. Basil of Cæsarea renounced the apostate's friendship; the rabble of Antioch assailed him with scurrilous lampoons and anti-pagan riots. Nor were the Arians behind in hate. Blind old Maris of Chalcedon came and cursed him to his face. The heathens laughed, the Christians cursed, and Israel alone remembered Julian for good. 'Treasured in the house of Julianus Cæsar,' the vessels of the temple still await the day when Messiah-ben-Ephraim shall take them thence. [Sidenote: Return of Athanasius, Feb. 362.] Back to their dioceses came the survivors of the exiled bishops, no longer travelling in pomp and circumstance to their noisy councils, but bound on the nobler errand of seeking out their lost or scattered flocks. Eusebius of Vercellæ and Lucifer left Upper Egypt, Marcellus and Basil returned to Ancyra, while Athanasius reappeared at Alexandria. The unfortunate George had led a wandering life since his expulsion in 358, and did not venture to leave the shelter of the court till late in 361. It was a rash move, for his flock had not forgotten him. Three days he spent in safety, but on the fourth came news that Constantius was dead and Julian master of the Empire. The heathen populace was wild with delight, and threw George straight into prison. Three weeks later they dragged him out and lynched him. Thus when Julian's edict came for the return of the exiles, Athanasius was doubly prepared to take advantage of it. [Sidenote: Council of Alexandria discusses:] It was time to resume the interrupted work of the council of Seleucia. Semiarian violence frustrated Hilary's efforts, but Athanasius had things more in his favour, now that Julian had sobered Christian partizanship. If he wished the Galileans to quarrel, he also left them free to combine. So twenty-one bishops, mostly exiles, met at Alexandria in the summer of 362. Eusebius of Vercellæ was with Athanasius, but Lucifer had gone to Antioch, and only sent a couple of deacons to the meeting. [Sidenote: (1.) Returning Arians.] Four subjects claimed the council's attention. The first was the reception of Arians who came over to the Nicene side. The stricter party was for treating all opponents without distinction as apostates. Athanasius, however, urged a milder course. It was agreed that all comers were to be gladly received on the single condition of accepting the Nicene faith. None but the chiefs and active defenders of Arianism were even to be deprived of any ecclesiastical rank which they might be holding. [Sidenote: (2.) The Lord's human nature.] A second subject of debate was the Arian doctrine of the Lord's humanity, which limited it to a human body. In opposition to this, the council declared that the Lord assumed also a human soul. In this they may have had in view, besides Arianism, the new theory of Apollinarius of Laodicea, which we shall have to explain presently. [Sidenote: (3.) The words _person_ and _essence_.] The third subject before the council was an old misunderstanding about the term _hypostasis_. It had been used in the Nicene anathemas as equivalent to _ousia_ or _essence_; and so Athanasius used it still, to denote the common deity of all the persons of the Trinity. So also the Latins understood it, as the etymological representative of _substantia_, which was their translation (a very bad one by the way) of _ousia_ (_essence_). Thus Athanasius and the Latins spoke of one _hypostasis_ (_essence_) only. Meantime the Easterns in general had adopted Origen's limitation of it to the deity of the several _persons_ of the Trinity in contrast with each other. Thus they meant by it what the Latins called _persona_,[14] and rightly spoke of three _hypostases_ (_persons_). In this way East and West were at cross-purposes. The Latins, who spoke of one _hypostasis_ (_essence_), regarded the Eastern three _hypostases_ as tritheist; while the Greeks, who confessed three _hypostases_ (_persons_), looked on the Western one _hypostasis_ as Sabellian. As Athanasius had connections with both parties, he was a natural mediator. As soon as both views were stated before the council, both were seen to be orthodox. 'One _hypostasis_' (_essence_) was not Sabellian, neither was 'three _hypostases_' (_persons_) Arian. The decision was that each party might keep its own usage. [Footnote 14: _Persona_, again, was a legal term, not exactly corresponding to its Greek representative.] [Sidenote: (4.) The schism at Antioch.] Affairs at Antioch remained for discussion. Now that Meletius was free to return, some decision had to be made. The Eustathians had been faithful through thirty years of trouble, and Athanasius was specially bound to his old friends; yet, on the other hand, some recognition was due to the honourable confession of Meletius. As the Eustathians had no bishop, the simplest course was for them to accept Meletius. This was the desire of the council, and it might have been carried out if Lucifer had not taken advantage of his stay at Antioch to denounce Meletius as an associate of Arians. By way of making the division permanent, he consecrated the presbyter Paulinus as bishop for the Eustathians. When the mischief was done it could not be undone. Paulinus added his signature to the decisions of Alexandria, but Meletius was thrown back on his old connection with Acacius. Henceforth the rising Nicene party of Pontus and Asia was divided from the older Nicenes of Egypt and Rome by this unfortunate personal question. [Sidenote: Fourth exile of Athanasius.] Julian could not but see that Athanasius was master in Egypt. He may not have cared about the council, but the baptism of some heathen ladies at Alexandria roused his fiercest anger. He broke his rule of contemptuous toleration, and 'the detestable Athanasius' was an exile again before the summer was over. But his work remained. The leniency of the council was a great success, notwithstanding the calamity at Antioch. It gave offence, indeed, to zealots like Lucifer, and may have admitted more than one unworthy Arianizer. Yet its wisdom is evident. First one bishop, then another accepted the Nicene faith. Friendly Semiarians came in like Cyril of Jerusalem, old conservatives followed like Dianius of the Cappadocian Cæsarea, and at last the arch-heretic Acacius himself gave in his signature. Even the creeds of the churches were remodelled in a Nicene interest, as at Jerusalem and Antioch, in Cappadocia and Mesopotamia. [Sidenote: The Arians under Julian.] Nor were the other parties idle. The Homoean coalition was even more unstable than the Eusebian. Already before the death of Constantius there had been quarrels over the appointment of Meletius by one section of the party, of Eunomius by another. The deposition of Aetius was another bone of contention. Hence the coalition broke up of itself as soon as men were free to act. Acacius and his friends drew nearer to Meletius, while Eudoxius and Euzoius talked of annulling the condemnation of the Anomoean bishops at Constantinople. The Semiarians were busy too. Guided by Macedonius and Eleusius, the ejected bishops of Constantinople and Cyzicus, they gradually took up a middle position between Nicenes and Anomoeans, confessing the Lord's deity with the one, and denying that of the Holy Spirit with the other. Like true Legitimists, who had learned nothing and forgotten nothing, they were satisfied to confirm the Seleucian decisions and re-issue their old Lucianic creed. Had they ceased to care for the Nicene alliance, or did they fancy the world had stood still since the Council of the Dedication? [Sidenote: Julian's campaign in Persia (Mar. 5 to June 26, 363).] Meanwhile the Persian war demanded Julian's attention. An emperor so full of heathen enthusiasm was not likely to forego the dreams of conquest which had brought so many of his predecessors on the path of glory in the East. His own part of the campaign was a splendid success. But when he had fought his way through the desert to the Tigris, he looked in vain for succours from the north. The Christians of Armenia would not fight for the apostate Emperor. Julian was obliged to retreat on Nisibis through a wasted country, and with the Persian cavalry hovering round. The campaign would have been at best a brilliant failure, but it was only converted into absolute disaster by the chance arrow (June 26, 363) which cut short his busy life. After all, he was only in his thirty-second year. [Sidenote: Julian's character.] Christian charity will not delight in counting up the outbreaks of petty spite and childish vanity which disfigure a noble character of purity and self-devotion. Still less need we presume to speculate what Julian would have done if he had returned in triumph from the Persian war. His bitterness might have hardened into a renegade's malice, or it might have melted at our Master's touch. But apart from what he might have done, there is matter for the gravest blame in what he did. The scorner must not pass unchallenged to the banquet of the just. Yet when all is said against him, the clear fact remains that Julian lived a hero's life. Often as he was blinded by his impatience or hurried into injustice by his heathen prejudice, we cannot mistake a spirit of self-sacrifice and earnest piety as strange to worldling bishops as to the pleasure-loving heathen populace. Mysterious and full of tragic pathos is the irony of God in history, which allowed one of the very noblest of the emperors to act the part of Jeroboam, and brought the old intriguer Maris of Chalcedon to cry against the altar like the man of God from Judah. But Maris was right, for Julian was the blinder of the two. CHAPTER VII. _THE RESTORED HOMOEAN SUPREMACY._ [Sidenote: Effects of Julian's reign.] Julian's reign seems at first sight no more than a sudden storm which clears up and leaves everything much as it was before. Far from restoring heathenism, he could not even seriously shake the power of Christianity. No sooner was he dead than the philosophers disappeared, the renegades did penance, and even the reptiles of the palace came back to their accustomed haunts. Yet Julian's work was not in vain, for it tested both heathenism and Christianity. All that Constantine had given to the churches Julian could take away, but the living power of faith was not at Cæsar's beck and call. Heathenism was strong in its associations with Greek philosophy and culture, with Roman law and social life, but as a moral force among the common people, its weakness was contemptible. It could sway the wavering multitude with superstitious fancies, and cast a subtler spell upon the noblest Christian teachers, but its own adherents it could hardly lift above their petty quest of pleasure. Julian called aloud, and called in vain. A mocking echo was the only answer from that valley of dry bones. Christianity, on the other side, had won the victory almost without a blow. Instead of ever coming to grapple with its mighty rival, the great catholic church of heathenism hardly reached the stage of apish mimicry. When its great army turned out to be a crowd of camp-followers, the alarm of battle died away in peals of defiant laughter. Yet the alarm was real, and its teachings were not forgotten. It broke up the revels of party strife, and partly roused the churches to the dangers of a purely heathen education. Above all, the approach of danger was a sharp reminder that our life is not of this world. They stood the test fairly well. Renegades or fanatics were old scandals, and signs were not wanting that the touch of persecution would wake the old heroic spirit which had fought the Empire from the catacombs and overcome it. [Sidenote: Jovian Emperor (June 27, 363).] As Julian was the last survivor of the house of Constantine, his lieutenants were free to choose the worthiest of their comrades. But while his four barbarian generals were debating, one or two voices suddenly hailed Jovian as Emperor. The cry was taken up, and in a few moments the young officer found himself the successor of Augustus. [Sidenote: Jovian's toleration.] Jovian was a brilliant colonel of the guards. In all the army there was not a goodlier person than he. Julian's purple was too small for his gigantic limbs. But that stately form was animated by a spirit of cowardly selfishness. Instead of pushing on with Julian's brave retreat, he saved the relics of his army by a disgraceful peace. Jovian was also a decided Christian, though his morals suited neither the purity of the gospel nor the dignity of his imperial position. Even the heathen soldiers condemned his low amours and vulgar tippling. The faith he professed was the Nicene, but Constantine himself was less tolerant than Jovian. In this respect he is blameless. If Athanasius was graciously received at Antioch, even the Arians were told with scant ceremony that they might hold their assemblies as they pleased at Alexandria. [Sidenote: The Anomoeans form a sect.] About this time the Anomoeans organised their schism. Nearly four years had been spent in uncertain negotiations for the restoration of Aetius. The Anomoeans counted on Eudoxius, but did not find him very zealous in the matter. At last, in Jovian's time, they made up their minds to set him at defiance by consecrating Poemenius to the see of Constantinople. Other appointments were made at the same time, and Theophilus the Indian, who had a name for missionary work in the far East, was sent to Antioch to win over Euzoius. From this time the Anomoeans were an organized sect. [Sidenote: Nicene successes.] But the most important document of Jovian's reign is the acceptance of the Nicene creed by Acacius of Cæsarea, with Meletius of Antioch and more than twenty others of his friends. Acacius was only returning to his master's steps when he explained _one in essence_ by _like in essence_, and laid stress on the care with which 'the Fathers' had guarded its meaning. We may hope that Acacius had found out his belief at last. Still the connexion helped to widen the breach between Meletius and the older Nicenes. [Sidenote: Valentinian Emperor.] All these movements came to an end at the sudden death of Jovian (Feb. 16, 364.) The Pannonian Valentinian was chosen to succeed him, and a month later assigned the East to his brother Valens, reserving to himself the more important Western provinces. This was a lasting division of the Empire, for East and West were never again united for any length of time. Valentinian belongs to the better class of emperors. He was a soldier like Jovian, and held much the same rank at his election. He was a decided Christian like Jovian, and, like him, free from the stain of persecution. Jovian's rough good-humour was replaced in Valentinian by a violent and sometimes cruel temper, but he had a sense of duty and was free from Jovian's vices. His reign was a laborious and honourable struggle with the enemies of the republic on the Rhine and the Danube. An uncultivated man himself, he still could honour learning, and in religion his policy was one of comprehensive toleration. If he refused to displace the few Arians whom he found in possession of Western sees like Auxentius at Milan, he left the churches free to choose Nicene successors. Under his wise rule the West soon recovered from the strife Constantius had introduced. [Sidenote: Character of Valens.] Valens was a weaker character, timid, suspicious, and slow, yet not ungentle in private life. He was as uncultivated as his brother, but not inferior to him in scrupulous care for his subjects. Only as Valens was no soldier, he preferred remitting taxation to fighting at the head of the legions. In both ways he is entitled to head the series of financial rather than unwarlike sovereigns whose cautious policy brought the Eastern Empire safely through the great barbarian invasions of the fifth century. [Sidenote: Breach between church and state.] The contest entered on a new stage in the reign of Valens. The friendly league of church and state at Nicæa had become a struggle for supremacy. Constantius endeavoured to dictate the faith of Christendom according to the pleasure of his eunuchs, while Athanasius reigned in Egypt almost like a rival for the Empire. And if Julian's reign had sobered party spirit, it had also shown that an emperor could sit again in Satan's seat. Valens had an obedient Homoean clergy, but no trappings of official splendour could enable Eudoxius or Demophilus to rival the imposing personality of Athanasius or Basil. Thus the Empire lost the moral support it looked for, and the church became embittered with its wrongs. [Sidenote: Rise of monasticism.] The breach involved a deeper evil. The ancient world of heathenism was near its dissolution. Vice and war, and latterly taxation, had dried up the springs of prosperity, and even of population, till Rome was perishing for lack of men. Cities had dwindled into villages, and of villages the very names had often disappeared. The stout Italian yeomen had been replaced by gangs of slaves, and these again by thinly scattered barbarian serfs. And if Rome grew weaker every day, her power for oppression seemed only to increase. Her fiscal system filled the provinces with ruined men. The Alps, the Taurus, and the Balkan swarmed with outlaws. But in the East men looked for refuge to the desert, where many a legend told of a people of brethren dwelling together in unity and serving God in peace beyond the reach of the officials. This was the time when the ascetic spirit, which had long been hovering round the outskirts of Christianity, began to assume the form of monasticism. There were monks in Egypt--monks of Serapis--before Christianity existed, and there may have been Christian monks by the end of the third century. In any case, they make little show in history before the reign of Valens. Paul of Thebes, Hilarion of Gaza, and even the great Antony are only characters in the novels of the day. Now, however, there was in the East a real movement towards monasticism. All parties favoured it. The Semiarians were busy inside Mount Taurus; and though Acacians and Anomoeans held more aloof, they could not escape an influence which even Julian felt. But the Nicene party was the home of the ascetics. In an age of indecision and frivolity like the Nicene, the most earnest striving after Christian purity will often degenerate into its ascetic caricature. Through the selfish cowardice of the monastic life we often see the loving sympathy of Christian self-denial. Thus there was an element of true Christian zeal in the enthusiasm of the Eastern Churches; and thus it was that the rising spirit of asceticism naturally attached itself to the Nicene faith as the strongest moral power in Christendom. It was a protest against the whole framework of society in that age, and therefore the alliance was cemented by a common enmity to the Arian Empire. It helped much to conquer Arianism, but it left a lasting evil in the lowering of the Christian standard. Henceforth the victory of faith was not to overcome the world, but to flee from it. Even heathen immorality was hardly more ruinous than the unclean ascetic spirit which defames God's holy ordinance as a form of sin which a too indulgent Lord will overlook. [Sidenote: New questions in controversy.] Valens was only a catechumen, and had no policy to declare for the present. Events therefore continued to develop naturally. The Homoean bishops retained their sees, but their influence was fast declining. The Anomoeans were forming a schism on one side, the Nicenes recovering power on the other. Unwilling signatures to the Homoean creed were revoked in all directions. Some even of its authors declared for Arianism with Euzoius, while others drew nearer to the Nicene faith like Acacius. On all sides the simpler doctrines were driving out the compromises. It was time for the Semiarians to bestir themselves if they meant to remain a majority in the East. The Nicenes seemed daily to gain ground. Lucifer had compromised them in one direction, Apollinarius in another, and even Marcellus had never been frankly disavowed; yet the Nicene cause advanced. A new question, however, was beginning to come forward. Hitherto the dispute had been on the person of the Lord, while that of the Holy Spirit was quite in the background. Significant as is the tone of Scripture, the proof is not on the surface. The divinity of the Holy Spirit is shown by many convergent lines of evidence, but it was still an open question whether that divinity amounts to co-essential and co-equal deity. Thus Origen leans to some theory of subordination, while Hilary limits himself with the utmost caution to the words of Scripture. If neither of them lays down in so many words that the Holy Spirit is God, much less does either of them class him with the creatures, like Eunomius. The difficulty was the same as with the person of the Lord, that while the Scriptural data clearly pointed to his deity, its admission involved the dilemma of either Sabellian confusion or polytheistic separation. Now, however, it was beginning to be seen that the theory of hypostatic distinctions must either be extended to the Holy Spirit or entirely abandoned. Athanasius took one course, the Anomoeans the other, but the Semiarians endeavoured to draw a distinction between the Lord's deity and that of the Holy Spirit. In truth, the two are logically connected. Athanasius pointed this out in the letters of his exile to Serapion, and the council of Alexandria condemned 'those who say that the Holy Spirit is a creature and distinct from the essence of the Son.' But logical connection is one thing, formal enforcement another. Athanasius and Basil to the last refused to make it a condition of communion. If any one saw the error of his Arian ways, it was enough for him to confess the Nicene creed. Thus the question remained open for the present. [Sidenote: Council of Lampsacus (364).] Thus the Semiarians were free to do what they could against the Homoeans. Under the guidance of Eleusius of Cyzicus, they held a council at Lampsacus in the summer of 364. It sat two months, and reversed the acts of the Homoeans at Constantinople four years before. Eudoxius was deposed (in name) and the Semiarian exiles restored to their sees. With regard to doctrine, they adopted the formula _like according to essence_, on the ground that while likeness was needed to exclude a Sabellian (they mean Nicene) confusion, its express extension to essence was needed against the Arians. Nor did they forget to re-issue the Lucianic creed for the acceptance of the churches. They also discussed without result the deity of the Holy Spirit. Eustathius of Sebastia for one was not prepared to commit himself either way. The decisions were then laid before Valens. [Sidenote: The Homoean policy of Valens.] But Valens was already falling into bad hands. Now that Julian was dead, the courtiers were fast recovering their influence, and Eudoxius had already secured the Emperor's support. The deputies of Lampsacus were ordered to hold communion with the bishop of Constantinople, and exiled on their refusal. Looking back from our own time, we should say that it was not a promising course for Valens to support the Homoeans. They had been in power before, and if they had not then been able to establish peace in the churches, they were not likely to succeed any better after their heavy losses in Julian's time. It is therefore the more important to see the Emperor's motives. No doubt personal influences must count for a good deal with a man like Valens, whose private attachments were so steady. Eudoxius was, after all, a man of experience and learning, whose mild prudence was the very help which Valens needed. The Empress Dominica was also a zealous Arian, so that the courtiers were Arians too. No wonder if their master was sincerely attached to the doctrines of his friends. But Valens was not strong enough to impose his own likings on the Empire. No merit raised him to the throne; no education or experience prepared him for the august dignity he reached so suddenly in middle life. Conscientious and irresolute, he could not even firmly control the officials. He had not the magic of Constantine's name behind him, and was prevented by Valentinian's toleration from buying support with the spoils of the temples. Under these circumstances, he could hardly do otherwise than support the Homoeans. Heathenism had failed in Julian's hands, and an Anomoean course was out of the question. A Nicene policy might answer in the West, but it was not likely to find much support in the East outside Egypt. The only alternative was to favour the Semiarians; and even that was full of difficulties. After all, the Homoeans were still the strongest party in 365. They were in possession of the churches and commanded much of the Asiatic influence, and had no enmity to contend with which was not quite as bitter against the other parties. They also had astute leaders, and a doctrine which still presented attractions to the quiet men who were tired of controversy. Upon the whole, the Homoean policy was the easiest for the moment. [Sidenote: The exiles exiled again.] In the spring of 365 an imperial rescript commanded the municipalities, under a heavy penalty, to drive out the bishops who had been exiled by Constantius and restored by Julian. Thereupon the populace of Alexandria declared that the law did not apply to Athanasius, because he had not been restored by Julian. A series of dangerous riots followed, which obliged the prefect Flavianus to refer the question back to Valens. Other bishops were less fortunate. Meletius had to retire from Antioch, Eustathius from Sebastia. [Sidenote: Semiarian embassy to Liberius.] The Semiarians looked to Valentinian for help. He had received them favourably the year before, and his intercession was not likely to be disregarded now. Eustathius of Sebastia was therefore sent to lay their case before the court of Milan. As, however, Valentinian had already started for Gaul, the deputation turned aside to Rome and offered to Liberius an acceptance of the Nicene creed signed by fifty-nine Semiarians, and purporting to come from the council of Lampsacus and other Asiatic synods. The message was well received at Rome, and in due time the envoys returned to Asia to report their doings before a council at Tyana. [Sidenote: Revolt of Procopius, Sept. 365.] Meanwhile the plans of Valens were interrupted by the news that Constantinople had been seized by a pretender. Procopius was a relative of Julian who had retired into private life, but whom the jealousy of Valens had forced to become a pretender. For awhile the danger was pressing. Procopius had won over to his side some of the best legions of the Empire, while his connexion with the house of Constantine secured him the formidable services of the Goths. But the great generals kept their faith to Valens, and the usurper's power melted away before them. A decisive battle at Nacolia in Phrygia (May 366) once more seated Valens firmly on his throne. [Sidenote: Baptism of Valens by Eudoxius (367).] Events could scarcely have fallen out better for Eudoxius and his friends. Valens was already on their side, and now his zeal was quickened by the mortal terror he had undergone, perhaps also by shame at the unworthy panic in which he had already allowed the exiles to return. In an age when the larger number of professing Christians were content to spend most of their lives as catechumens, it was a decided step for an Emperor to come forward and ask for baptism. This, however, was the step taken by Valens in the spring of 367, which finally committed him to the Homoean side. By it he undertook to resume the policy of Constantius, and to drive out false teachers at the dictation of Eudoxius. [Sidenote: Interval in the controversy (366-371).] The Semiarians were in no condition to resist. Their district had been the seat of the revolt, and their disgrace at court was not lessened by the embassy to Rome. So divided also were they, that while one party assembled a synod at Tyana to welcome the return of the envoys, another met in Caria to ratify the Lucianic creed again. Unfortunately however for Eudoxius, Valens was entangled in a war with the Goths for three campaigns, and afterwards detained for another year in the Hellespontine district, so that he could not revisit the East till the summer of 371. Meanwhile there was not much to be done. Athanasius had been formally restored to his church during the Procopian panic by Brasidas the notary (February 366), and was too strong to be molested again. Meletius also and others had been allowed to return at the same time, and Valens was too busy to disturb them. Thus there was a sort of truce for the next few years. Of Syria we hear scarcely anything; and even in Pontus the strife must have been abated by the famine of 368. The little we find to record seems to belong to the year 367. On one side, Eunomius the Anomoean was sent into exile, but soon recalled on the intercession of the old Arian Valens of Mursa. On the other, the Semiarians were not allowed to hold the great synod at Tarsus, which was intended to complete their reconciliation with the Western Nicenes. These years form the third great break in the Arian controversy, and were hardly less fruitful of results than the two former breaks under Constantius and Julian. Let us therefore glance at the condition of the churches. [Sidenote: New Nicene party in Cappadocia] The Homoean party was the last hope of Arianism within the Empire. The original doctrine of Arius had been decisively rejected at Nicæa; the Eusebian coalition was broken up by the Sirmian manifesto; and if the Homoean union also failed, the fall of Arianism could not be long delayed. Its weakness is shown by the rise of a new Nicene party in the most Arian province of the Empire. Cappadocia is an exception to the general rule that Christianity flourished best where cities were most numerous. The polished vice of Antioch or Corinth presented fewer obstacles than the rude ignorance of _pagi_ or country villages. Now Cappadocia was chiefly a country district. The walls of Cæsarea lay in ruins since its capture by the Persians in the reign of Gallienus, and the other towns of the province were small and few. Yet Julian found it incorrigibly Christian, and we hear but little of heathenism from Basil. We cannot suppose that the Cappadocian boors were civilized enough to be out of the reach of heathen influence. It seems rather that the _paganismus_ of the West was partly represented by Arianism. In Cappadocia the heresy found its first great literary champion in the sophist Asterius. Gregory and George were brought to Alexandria from Cappadocia, and afterwards Auxentius to Milan and Eudoxius to Constantinople. Philagrius also, the prefect who drove out Athanasius in 339, was another of their countrymen. Above all, the heresiarch Eunomius came from Cappadocia, and had abundance of admirers in his native district. In this old Arian stronghold the league was formed which decided the fate of Arianism. Earnest men like Meletius had only been attracted to the Homoeans by their professions of reverence for the person of the Lord. When, therefore, it appeared that Eudoxius and his friends were no better than Arians after all, these men began to look back to the decisions of 'the great and holy council' of Nicæa. There, at any rate, they would find something independent of the eunuchs and cooks who ruled the palace. Of the old conservatives also, who were strong in Pontus, there were many who felt that the Semiarian position was unsound, and yet could find no satisfaction in the indefinite doctrine professed at court. Here then was one split in the Homoean, another in the conservative party. If only the two sets of malcontents could form a union with each other and with the older Nicenes of Egypt and the West, they would sooner or later be the arbiters of Christendom. If they could secure Valentinian's intercession, they might obtain religious freedom at once. [Sidenote: Basil of Cæsarea.] Such seems to have been the plan laid down by the man who was now succeeding Athanasius as leader of the Nicene party. Basil of Cæsarea was a disciple of the schools of Athens, and a master of heathen eloquence and learning. He was also man of the world enough to keep on friendly terms with men of all sorts. Amongst his friends we find Athanasius and Gregory of Nazianzus, Libanius the heathen rhetorician, the barbarian generals Arinthæus and Victor, the renegade Modestus, and the Arian bishop Euippius. He was a Christian also of a Christian family. His grandmother, Macrina, was one of those who fled to the woods in the time of Diocletian's persecution; and in after years young Basil learned from her the words of Gregory the Wonder worker. The connections of his early life were with the conservatives. He owed his baptism to Dianius of Cæsarea, and much encouragement in asceticism to Eustathius of Sebastia. In 359 he accompanied Basil of Ancyra from Seleucia to the conferences at Constantinople, and on his return home came forward as a resolute enemy of Arianism at Cæsarea. The young deacon was soon recognised as a power in Asia. He received the dying recantation of Dianius, and guided the choice of his successor Eusebius in 362. Yet he still acted with the Semiarians, and helped them with his counsel at Lampsacus. Indeed it was from the Semiarian side that he approached the Nicene faith. In his own city of Cæsarea Eusebius found him indispensable. When jealousies arose between them, and Basil withdrew to his rustic paradise in Pontus, he was recalled by the clamour of the people at the approach of Valens in 365. This time the danger was averted by the Procopian troubles, but henceforth Basil governed Eusebius, and the church of Cæsarea through him, till in the summer of 370 he succeeded to the bishopric himself. [Sidenote: Basil bishop of Cæsarea.] The election was a critical one, for every one knew that a bishop like Basil would be a pillar of the Nicene cause. On one side were the officials and the lukewarm bishops, on the other the people and the better class of Semiarians. They had to make great efforts. Eusebius of Samosata came to Cæsarea to urge the wavering bishops, and old Gregory[15] was carried from Nazianzus on his litter to perform the consecration. There was none but Basil who could meet the coming danger. By the spring of 371 Valens had fairly started on his progress to the East. He travelled slowly through the famine-wasted provinces, and only reached Cæsarea in time for the great winter festival of Epiphany 372. The Nicene faith in Cappadocia was not the least of the abuses he was putting down. The bishops yielded in all directions, but Basil was unshaken. The rough threats of Modestus succeeded no better than the fatherly counsel of Euippius; and when Valens himself and Basil met face to face, the Emperor was overawed. More than once the order was prepared for the obstinate prelate's exile, but for one reason or another it was never issued. Valens went forward on his journey, leaving behind a princely gift for Basil's poorhouse. He reached Antioch in April, and settled there for the rest of his reign, never again leaving Syria till the disasters of the Gothic war called him back to Europe. [Footnote 15: The father of Gregory of Nazianzus the Divine, who was bishop, as we shall see, of Sasima and Constantinople in succession, but never of Nazianzus.] [Sidenote: Basil's difficulties.] Armed with spiritual power which in some sort extended from the Bosphorus to Armenia, Basil could now endeavour to carry out his plan. Homoean malcontents formed the nucleus of the league, but conservatives began to join it, and Athanasius gave his patriarchal blessing to the scheme. The difficulties, however, were very great. The league was full of jealousies. Athanasius indeed might frankly recognise the soundness of Meletius, though he was committed to Paulinus, but others were less liberal, and Lucifer of Calaris was forming a schism on the question. Some, again, were lukewarm in the cause and many sunk in worldliness, while others were easily diverted from their purpose. The sorest trial of all was the selfish coldness of the West. Basil might find here and there a kindred spirit like Ambrose of Milan after 374; but the confessors of 355 were mostly gathered to their rest, and the church of Rome paid no regard to sufferings which were not likely to reach herself. Nor was Basil quite the man for such a task as this. His courage indeed was indomitable. He ruled Cappadocia from a sick-bed, and bore down opposition by sheer strength of his inflexible determination. The very pride with which his enemies reproached him was often no more than a strong man's consciousness of power; and to this unwearied energy he joined an ascetic fervour which secured the devotion of his friends, a knowledge of the world which often turned aside the fury of his enemies, and a flow of warm-hearted rhetoric which never failed to command the admiration of outsiders. Yet after all we miss the lofty self-respect which marks the later years of Athanasius. Basil was involved in constant difficulties by his own pride and suspicion. We cannot, for example, imagine Athanasius turning two presbyters out of doors as 'spies.' But the ascetic is usually too full of his own plans to feel sympathy with others, too much in earnest to feign it like a diplomatist. Basil had enough worldly prudence to keep in the background his belief in the Holy Spirit, but not enough to protect even his closest friends from the outbreaks of his imperious temper. Small wonder if the great scheme met with many difficulties. [Sidenote: Disputes with: (1.) Anthimus.] A specimen or two may be given, from which it will be seen that the difficulties were not all of Basil's making. When Valens divided Cappadocia in 372, the capital of the new province was fixed at Tyana. Thereupon Bishop Anthimus argued that ecclesiastical arrangements necessarily follow civil, and claimed the obedience of its bishops as due to him and not to Basil. Peace was patched up after an unseemly quarrel, and Basil disposed of any future claims from Anthimus by getting the new capital transferred to Podandus. [Sidenote: (2.) Eustathius.] The dispute with Anthimus was little more than a personal quarrel, so that it was soon forgotten. The old Semiarian Eustathius of Sebastia was able to give more serious annoyance. He was a man too active to be ignored, too unstable to be trusted, too famous for ascetic piety to be lightly made an open enemy. His friendship was compromising, his enmity dangerous. We left him professing the Nicene faith before the council of Tyana. For the next three years we lose sight of him. He reappears as a friend of Basil in 370, and heartily supported him in his strife with Valens. Eustathius was at any rate no time-server. He was drawn to Basil by old friendship and a common love of asceticism, but almost equally repelled by the imperious orthodoxy of a stronger will than his own. And Basil for a long time clung to his old teacher, though the increasing distrust of staunch Nicenes like Theodotus of Nicopolis was beginning to attack himself. His peacemaking was worse than a failure. First he offended Theodotus, then he alienated Eustathius. The suspicious zeal of Theodotus was quieted in course of time, but Eustathius never forgave the urgency which wrung from him his signature to a Nicene confession. He had long been leaning the other way, and now he turned on Basil with all the bitterness of broken friendship. To such a man the elastic faith of the Homoeans was a welcome refuge. If they wasted little courtesy on their convert, they did not press him to strain his conscience by signing what he ought not to have signed. [Sidenote: Apollinarius of Laodicea.] The Arian controversy was exhausted for the present, and new questions were already beginning to take its place. While Basil and Eustathius were preparing the victory of asceticism in the next generation, Apollinarius had already essayed the christological problem of Ephesus and Chalcedon; and Apollinarius was no common thinker. If his efforts were premature, he at least struck out the most suggestive of the ancient heresies. Both in what he saw and in what he failed to see, his work is full of meaning for our own time. Apollinarius and his father were Christian literary men of Laodicea in Syria, and stood well to the front of controversy in Julian's days. When the rescript came out which forbade the Galileans to teach the classics, they promptly undertook to form a Christian literature by throwing Scripture into classical forms. The Old Testament was turned into Homeric verse, the New into Platonic dialogues. Here again Apollinarius was premature. There was indeed no reason why Christianity should not have as good a literature as heathenism, but it would have to be a growth of many ages. In doctrine Apollinarius was a staunch Nicene, and one of the chief allies of Athanasius in Syria. But he was a Nicene of an unusual type, for the side of Arianism which specially attracted his attention was its denial of the Lord's true manhood. It will be remembered that according to Arius the created Word assumed human flesh and nothing more. Eustathius of Antioch had long ago pointed out the error, and the Nicene council shut it out by adding _was made man_ to the _was made flesh_ of the Cæsarean creed. It was thus agreed that the lower element in the incarnation was man, not mere flesh; in other words, the Lord was perfect man as well as perfect God. But in that case, how can God and man form one person? In particular, the freedom of his human will is inconsistent with the fixity of the divine. Without free-will he was not truly man; yet free-will always leads to sin. If all men are sinners, and the Lord was not a sinner, it seemed to follow that he was not true man like other men. Yet in that case the incarnation is a mere illusion. The difficulty was more than Athanasius himself could fully solve. All that he could do was to hold firmly the doctrine of the Lord's true manhood as declared by Scripture, and leave the question of his free-will for another age to answer. [Sidenote: The Apollinarian system.] The analysis of human nature which we find in Scripture is twofold. In many passages there is a moral division into the spirit and the flesh--all that draws us up towards heaven and all that draws us down to earth. It must be carefully noted (what ascetics of all ages have overlooked) that the flesh is not the body. Envy and hatred are just as much works of the flesh[16] as revelling and uncleanness. It is not the body which lusts against the soul, but the evil nature running through them both which refuses the leading of the Spirit of God. But these are practical statements: the proper psychology of Scripture is given in another series of passages. It comes out clearly in 1 Thess. v. 23--'your whole spirit, and soul, and body be preserved blameless unto the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ.' Here the division is threefold. The body we know pretty well, as far as concerns its material form. The soul however, is not the 'soul' of common language. It is only the seat of the animal life which we share with the beasts. Above the soul, beyond the ken of Aristotle, Scripture reveals the spirit as the seat of the immortal life which is to pass the gate of death unharmed. Now it is one chief merit of Apollinarius (and herein he has the advantage over Athanasius) that he based his system on the true psychology of Scripture. He argued that sin reaches man through the will, whose seat is in the spirit. Choice for good or for evil is in the will. Hence Adam fell through the weakness of the spirit. Had that been stronger, he would have been able to resist temptation. So it is with the rest of us: we all sin through the weakness of the spirit. If then the Lord was a man in whom the mutable human spirit was replaced by the immutable Divine Word, there will be no difficulty in understanding how he could be free from sin. Apollinarius, however, rightly chose to state his theory the other way--that the Divine Word assumed a human body and a human soul, and himself took the place of a human spirit. So far we see no great advance on the Arian theory of the incarnation. If the Lord had no true human spirit, he is no more true man than if he had nothing human but the body. We get a better explanation of his sinlessness, but we still get it at the expense of his humanity. In one respect the Arians had the advantage. Their created Word is easier joined with human flesh than the Divine Word with a human body and a human soul. At this point, however, Apollinarius introduced a thought of deep significance--that the spirit in Christ was human spirit, although divine. If man was made in the image of God, the Divine Word is not foreign to that human spirit which is in his likeness, but is rather the true perfection of its image. If, therefore, the Lord had the divine Word instead of the human spirit of other men, he is not the less human, but the more so for the difference. Furthermore, the Word which in Christ was human spirit was eternal. Apart then from the incarnation, the Word was archetypal man as well as God. Thus we reach the still more solemn thought that the incarnation is not a mere expedient to get rid of sin, but the historic revelation of what was latent in the Word from all eternity. Had man not sinned, the Word must still have come among us, albeit not through shame and death. It was his nature that he should come. If he was man from eternity, it was his nature to become in time like men on earth, and it is his nature to remain for ever man. And as the Word looked down on mankind, so mankind looked upward to the Word. The spirit in man is a frail and shadowy thing apart from Christ, and men are not true men till they have found in him their immutable and sovereign guide. Thus the Word and man do not confront each other as alien beings. They are joined together in their inmost nature, and (may we say it?) each receives completion from the other. [Footnote 16: Gal. v. 19-21.] [Sidenote: Criticism of Apollinarianism.] The system of Apollinarius is a mighty outline whose details we can hardly even now fill in; yet as a system it is certainly a failure. His own contemporaries may have done him something less than justice, but they could not follow his daring flights of thought when they saw plain errors in his teaching. After all, Apollinarius reaches no true incarnation. The Lord is something very like us, but he is not one of us. The spirit is surely an essential part of man, and without a true human spirit he could have no true human choice or growth or life; and indeed Apollinarius could not allow him any. His work is curtailed also like his manhood, for (so Gregory of Nyssa put it) the spirit which the Lord did not assume is not redeemed. Apollinarius understood even better than Athanasius the kinship of true human nature to its Lord, and applied it with admirable skill to explain the incarnation as the expression of the eternal divine nature. But he did not see so well as Athanasius that sin is a mere intruder among men. It was not a hopeful age in which he lived. The world had gone a long way downhill since young Athanasius had sung his song of triumph over fallen heathenism. Roman vice and Syrian frivolity, Eastern asceticism and Western legalism, combined to preach, in spite of Christianity, that the sinfulness of mankind is essential. So instead of following out the pregnant hint of Athanasius that sin is no true part of human nature (else were God the author of evil), Apollinarius cut the knot by refusing the Son of Man a human spirit as a thing of necessity sinful. Too thoughtful to slur over the difficulty like Pelagius, he was yet too timid to realize the possibility of a conquest of sin by man, even though that man were Christ himself. [Sidenote: The Apollinarians.] Apollinarius and his school contributed not a little to the doctrinal confusion of the East. His ideas were current for some time in various forms, and are attacked in some of the later works of Athanasius; but it was not till about 375 that they led to a definite schism, marked by the consecration of the presbyter Vitalis to the bishopric of Antioch. From this time, Apollinarian bishops disputed many of the Syrian sees with Nicenes and Anomoeans. Their adherents were also scattered over Asia, and supplied one more element of discord to the noisy populace of Constantinople. [Sidenote: Last years of Athanasius (366-373).] The declining years of Athanasius were spent in peace. Valens had restored him in good faith, and never afterwards molested him. If Lucius the Arian returned to Alexandria to try his chance as bishop, the officials gave him no connivance--nothing but sorely needed shelter from the fury of the mob. Arianism was nearly extinct in Egypt. [Sidenote: Athanasius and Marcellus (before 371).] One of his last public acts was to receive an embassy from Marcellus, who was still living in extreme old age at Ancyra. Some short time before 371, the deacon Eugenius presented to him a confession on behalf of the 'innumerable multitude' who still owned Marcellus for their father. 'We are not heretics, as we are slandered. We specially anathematize Arianism, confessing, like our fathers at Nicæa, that the Son is no creature, but of the essence of the Father and co-essential with the Father; and by the Son we mean no other than the Word. Next we anathematize Sabellius, for we confess the eternity and reality of the Son and the Holy Spirit. We anathematize also the Anomoeans, in spite of their pretence not to be Arians. We anathematize finally the Arianizers who separate the Word from the Son, giving the latter a beginning at the incarnation because they do not confess him to be very God. Our own doctrine of the incarnation is that the Word did not come down as on the prophets, but truly became flesh and took a servant's form, and as regards flesh was born as a man.' There is no departure here from the original doctrine of Marcellus, for the eternity of the Son means nothing more than the eternity of the Word. The memorial, however, was successful. Though Athanasius was no Marcellian, he was as determined as ever to leave all questions open which the great council had forborne to close. The new Nicenes of Pontus, on the other hand, inherited the conservative dread of Marcellus, so that it was a sore trial to Basil when Athanasius refused to sacrifice the old companion of his exile. Even the great Alexandrian's comprehensive charity is hardly nobler than his faithfulness to erring friends. Meaner men might cherish the petty jealousies of controversy, but the veterans of the great council once more recognised their fellowship in Christ. They were joined in life, and in death they were not divided. [Sidenote: Death of Athanasius (373).] Marcellus passed away in 371, and Athanasius two years later. The victory was not yet won, the goal of half a century was still beyond the sight of men; yet Athanasius had conquered Arianism. Of his greatness we need say no more. Some will murmur of 'fanaticism' before the only Christian whose grandeur awed the scoffer Gibbon. So be it that his greatness was not unmixed with human passion; but those of us who have seen the light of heaven shining from some saintly face, or watched with kindling hearts and solemn thankfulness some mighty victory of Christian faith, will surely know that it was the spirit of another world which dwelt in Athanasius. To him more than any one we owe it that the question of Arianism did not lose itself in personalities and quibbles, but took its proper place as a battle for the central message of the gospel, which is its chief distinction from philosophy and heathenism. [Sidenote: Extinction of the Marcellians (375).] Instantly Alexandria was given up to the Arians, and Lucius repeated the outrages of Gregory and George. The friends of Athanasius were exiled, and his successor Peter fled to Rome. Meanwhile the school of Marcellus died away. In 375 his surviving followers addressed a new memorial to the Egyptian exiles at Sepphoris, in which they plainly confessed the eternal Sonship so long evaded by their master. Basil took no small offence when the exiles accepted the memorial. 'They were not the only zealous defenders of the Nicene faith in the East, and should not have acted without the consent of the Westerns and of their own bishop, Peter. In their haste to heal one schism they might cause another if they did not make it clear that the heretics had come over to them, and not they to the heretics.' This, however, was mere grumbling. Now that the Marcellians had given up the point in dispute, there was no great difficulty about their formal reconciliation. The West held out for Marcellus after his own disciples had forsaken him, so that he was not condemned at Rome till 380, nor by name till 381. [Sidenote: Confusion of: (1) Churches.] Meanwhile the churches of Asia seemed in a state of universal dissolution. Disorder under Constantius had become confusion worse confounded under Valens. The exiled bishops were so many centres of disaffection, and personal quarrels had full scope everywhere. Thus when Basil's brother Gregory was expelled from Nyssa by a riot got up by Anthimus of Tyana, he took refuge under the eyes of Anthimus at Doara, where a similar riot had driven out the Arian bishop. Pastoral work was carried on under the greatest difficulties. The exiles could not attend to their churches, the schemers would not, and the fever of controversy was steadily demoralizing both flocks and pastors. [Sidenote: (2.) Creeds.] Creeds were in the same confusion. The Homoeans as a body had no consistent principle at all beyond the rejection of technical terms, so that their doctrinal statements are very miscellaneous. They began with the indefinite Sirmian creed, but the confession they imposed on Eustathius of Sebastia was purely Macedonian. Some of their bishops were Nicenes, others Anomoeans. There was room for all in the happy family presided over by Eudoxius and his successor Demophilus. In this anarchy of doctrine, the growth of irreligious carelessness kept pace with that of party bitterness. Ecclesiastical history records no clearer period of decline than this. There is a plain descent from Athanasius to Basil, a rapid one from Basil to Theophilus and Cyril. The victors of Constantinople are but the epigoni of a mighty contest. [Sidenote: Hopeful signs.] Hopeful signs indeed were not entirely wanting. If the Nicene cause did not seem to gain much ground in Pontus, it was at least not losing. While Basil held the court in check, the rising power of asceticism was declaring itself every day more plainly on his side. One schism was healed by the reception of the Marcellians; and if Apollinarius was forming another, he was at least a resolute enemy of Arianism. The submission of the Lycian bishops in 375 helped to isolate the Semiarian phalanx in Asia, and the Illyrian council held in the same year by Ambrose was the first effective help from the West. It secured a rescript of Valentinian in favour of the Nicenes; and if he did not long survive, his action was enough to show that Valens might not always be left to carry out his plans undisturbed. CHAPTER VIII. _THE FALL OF ARIANISM._ [Sidenote: Prospects in 375.] The fiftieth year from the great council came and went, and brought no relief to the calamities of the churches. Meletius and Cyril were still in exile, East and West were still divided over the consecration of Paulinus, and now even Alexandria had become the prey of Lucius. The leaden rule of Valens still weighed down the East, and Valens was scarcely yet past middle life, and might reign for many years longer. The deliverance came suddenly, and the Nicene faith won its victory in the confusion of the greatest disaster which had ever yet befallen Rome. [Sidenote: The Empire in 376.] In the year 376 the Empire still seemed to stand unshaken within the limits of Augustus. If the legions had retired from the outlying provinces of Dacia and Carduene, they more than held their ground on the great river frontiers of the Euphrates, the Danube, and the Rhine. If Julian's death had seemed to let loose all the enemies of Rome at once, they had all been repulsed. While the Persian advance was checked by the obstinate patriotism of Armenia, Valens reduced the Goths to submission, and his Western colleague drove the Germans out of Gaul and recovered Britain from the Picts. The Empire had fully held its own through twelve years of incessant warfare; and if there were serious indications of exhaustion in the dwindling of the legions and the increase of the barbarian auxiliaries, in the troops of brigands who infested every mountain district, in the alarming decrease of population, and above all in the ruin of the provinces by excessive taxation, it still seemed inconceivable that real danger could ever menace Rome's eternal throne. [Sidenote: The Gothic war (377-378).] But while the imperial statesmen were watching the Euphrates, the storm was gathering on the Danube. The Goths in Dacia had been learning husbandry and Christianity since Aurelian's time, and bade fair soon to become a civilized people. Heathenism was already half abandoned, and their nomad habits half laid aside. But when the Huns came up suddenly from the steppes of Asia, the stately Gothic warriors fled almost without a blow from the hordes of wild dwarfish horsemen. The Ostrogoths became the servants of their conquerors, and the heathens of Athanaric found a refuge in the recesses of the Transylvanian forests. But Fritigern was a Christian. Rome had helped him once before, and Rome might help him now. A whole nation of panic-stricken warriors crowded to the banks of the Danube. There was but one inviolable refuge in the world, and that was beneath the shelter of the Roman eagles. Only let them have some of the waste lands in Thrace, and they would be glad to do the Empire faithful service. When conditions had been settled, the Goths were brought across the river. Once on Roman ground, they were left to the mercy of officials whose only thought was to make the famished barbarians a prey to their own rapacity and lust. Before long the Goths broke loose and spread over the country, destroying whatever cultivation had survived the desolating misgovernment of the Empire. Outlaws and deserters were willing guides, and crowds of fresh barbarians came in to share the spoil. The Roman generals found it no easy task to keep the field. [Sidenote: Battle of Hadrianople (Aug. 9, 378).] First the victories of Claudius and Aurelian, and then the statesmanship of Constantine, had stayed for a century the tide of Northern war, but now the Empire was again reduced to fight for its existence. Its rulers seemed to understand the crisis. The East was drained of all available troops, and Sebastian the Manichee, the old enemy of Athanasius, was placed in command. Gratian hurried Thraceward with the Gaulish legions, and at last Valens thought it time to leave his pleasant home at Antioch for the field of war. Evil omens beset his march, but no omen could be worse than his own impulsive rashness. With a little prudence, such a force as he had gathered round the walls of Hadrianople was an overmatch for any hordes of barbarians. But Valens determined to storm the Gothic camp without waiting for his Western colleague. Rugged ground and tracts of burning grass delayed his march, so that it was long past noon before he neared the line of waggons, later still before the Gothic trumpet sounded. But the Roman army was in hopeless rout at sundown. The Goths came down 'like a thunderbolt on the mountain tops,' and all was lost. Far into the night the slaughtering went on. Sebastian fell, the Emperor was never heard of more, and full two-thirds of the Roman army perished in a scene of unequalled horror since the butchery of Cannæ. [Sidenote: Results of the battle.] Beneath that crushing blow the everlasting Empire shook from end to end. The whole power of the East had been mustered with a painful effort to the struggle, and the whole power of the East had been shattered in a summer's day. For the first time since the days of Gallienus, the Empire could place no army in the field. But Claudius and Aurelian had not fought in vain, nor were the hundred years of respite lost. If the dominion of Western Europe was transferred for ever to the Northern nations, the walls of Constantinople had risen to bar their eastward march, and Christianity had shown its power to awe their boldest spirits. The Empire of the Christian East withstood the shock of Hadrianople--only the heathen West sank under it. When once the old barriers of civilization on the Danube and the Rhine were broken through, the barbarians poured in for centuries like a flood of mighty waters overflowing. Not till the Northman and the Magyar had found their limit at the siege of Paris [Sidenote: 888.] and the battle of the Lechfeld [Sidenote: 955.] could Europe feel secure. The Roman Empire and the Christian Church alone rode out the storm which overthrew the ancient world. But the Christian Church was founded on the ever-living Rock, the Roman Empire rooted deep in history. Arianism was a thing of yesterday and had no principle of life, and therefore it vanished in the crash of Hadrianople. The Homoean supremacy had come to rest almost wholly on imperial misbelief. The mob of the capital might be in its favour, and the virtues of isolated bishops might secure it some support elsewhere; but serious men were mostly Nicenes or Anomoeans. Demophilus of Constantinople headed the party, and his blunders did it almost as much harm as the profane jests of Eudoxius. At Antioch Euzoius, the last of the early Arians, was replaced by Dorotheus. Milan under Ambrose was aggressively Nicene, and the Arian tyrants were very weak at Alexandria. On the other hand, the greatest of the Nicenes had passed away, and few were left who could remember the great council's meeting. Athanasius and Hilary were dead, and even Basil did not live to greet an orthodox Emperor. Meletius of Antioch was in exile, and Cyril of Jerusalem and the venerated Eusebius of Samosata, while Gregory of Nazianzus had found in the Isaurian mountains a welcome refuge from his hated diocese of Sasima. If none of the living Nicenes could pretend to rival Athanasius, they at least outmatched the Arians. [Sidenote: Gratian's toleration.] As Valens left no children, the Empire rested for the moment in the hands of his nephew, Gratian, a youth of not yet twenty. Gratian, however, was wise enough to see that it was no time to cultivate religious quarrels. He, therefore, began by proclaiming toleration to all but Anomoeans and Photinians. As toleration was still the theory of the Empire, and none but the Nicenes were practically molested, none but the Nicenes gained anything by the edict. But mere toleration was all they needed. The exiled bishops found little difficulty in resuming the government of their flocks, and even in sending missions to Arian strongholds. The Semiarians were divided. Numbers went over to the Nicenes, while others took up an independent or Macedonian position. The Homoean power in the provinces fell of itself before it was touched by persecution. It scarcely even struggled against its fate. At Jerusalem indeed party spirit ran as high as ever, but Alexandria was given up to Peter almost without resistance. We find one or two outrages like the murder of Eusebius of Samosata by an Arian woman in a country town, who threw down a tile on his head, but we hardly ever find a Homoean bishop heartily supported by his flock. [Sidenote: Gregory of Nazianzus.] Constantinople itself was now the chief stronghold of the Arians. They had held the churches since 340, and were steadily supported by the court. Thus the city populace was devoted to Arianism, and the Nicenes were a mere remnant, without either church or teacher. The time, however, was now come for a mission to the capital. Gregory of Nazianzus was the son of Bishop Gregory, born about the time of the Nicene council. His father was already presbyter of Nazianzus, and held the bishopric for nearly half a century. [Sidenote: 329-374.] Young Gregory was a student of many schools. From the Cappadocian Cæsarea he went on to the Palestinian, and thence to Alexandria; but Athens was the goal of his student-life. Gregory and Basil and Prince Julian met at the feet of Proæresius. They all did credit to his eloquence, but there the likeness ends. Gregory disliked Julian's strange, excited manner, and persuaded himself in later years that he had even then foreseen the evil of the apostate's reign. With Basil, on the other hand his friendship was for life. They were well-matched in eloquence, in ascetic zeal, and in opposition to Arianism, though Basil's imperious ways were a trial to Gregory's gentler and less active spirit. During the quarrel with Anthimus of Tyana, Basil thought fit to secure the disputed possession of Sasima by making it a bishopric. [Sidenote: 372.] It was a miserable post-station--'No water, no grass, nothing but dust and carts, and groans and howls, and small officials with their usual instruments of torture.' Gregory was made bishop of Sasima against his will, and never fairly entered on his repulsive duties. After a few years' retirement, he came forward to undertake the mission to Constantinople. [Sidenote: 379.] The great city was a city of triflers. They jested at the actors and the preachers without respect of persons, and followed with equal eagerness the races and the theological disputes. Anomoeans abounded in their noisy streets, and the graver Novatians and Macedonians were infected with the spirit of wrangling. Gregory's austere character and simple life were in themselves a severe rebuke to the lovers of pleasure round him. He began his work in a private house, and only built a church when the numbers of his flock increased. He called it his Anastasia,--the church of the resurrection of the faith. The mob was hostile--one night they broke into his church--but the fruit of his labours was a growing congregation of Nicenes in the capital. [Sidenote: Theodosius Emperor in the East (379).] Gratian's next step was to share his burden with a colleague. If the care of the whole Empire had been too much for Diocletian or Valentinian, Gratian's were not the Atlantean shoulders which could bear its undivided weight. In the far West, at Cauca near Segovia, there lived a son of Theodosius, the recoverer of Britain and Africa, whose execution had so foully stained the opening of Gratian's reign. That memory of blood was still fresh, yet in that hour of overwhelming danger Gratian called young Theodosius to be his honoured colleague and deliverer. Early in 379 he gave him the conduct of the Gothic war. With it went the Empire of the East. [Sidenote: End of the Gothic war.] Theodosius was neither Greek nor Asiatic, but a stranger from the Spanish West, endued with a full measure of Spanish courage and intolerance. As a general he was the most brilliant Rome had seen since Julian's death. Men compared him to Trajan, and in a happier age he might have rivalled Trajan's fame. But now the Empire was ready to perish. The beaten army was hopelessly demoralized, and Theodosius had to form a new army of barbarian legionaries before the old tradition of Roman superiority could resume its wonted sway. It soon appeared that the Goths could do nothing with their victory, and sooner or later would have to make their peace with Rome. Theodosius drove them inland in the first campaign; and while he lay sick at Thessalonica in the second, Gratian or his generals received the submission of the Ostrogoths. Fritigern died the same year, and his old rival Athanaric was a fugitive before it ended. When the returning Ostrogoths dislodged him from his Transylvanian forest, he was welcomed with honourable courtesy by Theodosius in person at Constantinople. But the old enemy of Rome and Christianity had only come to lay his bones on Roman soil. In another fortnight the barbarian chief was carried out with kingly splendour to his Roman funeral. Theodosius had nobly won Athanaric's inheritance. His wondering Goths at once took service with their conqueror: chief after chief submitted, and the work of peace was completed on the Danube in the autumn of 382. [Sidenote: Baptism of Theodosius.] We can now return to ecclesiastical affairs. The dangerous illness of Theodosius in 380 had important consequences, for his baptism by Ascholius of Thessalonica was the natural signal for a more decided policy. Ascholius was a zealous Nicene, so that Theodosius was committed to the Nicene side as effectually as Valens had been to the Homoean; and Theodosius was less afraid of strong measures than Valens. His first rescript (Feb. 27, 380) commands all men to follow the Nicene doctrine 'committed by the apostle Peter to the Romans, and now professed by Damasus of Rome and Peter of Alexandria,' and plainly threatens to impose temporal punishments on the heretics. Here it will be seen that Theodosius abandons Constantine's test of orthodoxy by subscription to a creed. It seemed easier now, and more in the spirit of Latin Christianity, to require communion with certain churches. The choice of Rome is natural, the addition of Alexandria shows that the Emperor was still a stranger to the mysteries of Eastern partizanship. [Sidenote: Suppression of Arian worship inside cities.] There was no reason for delay when the worst dangers of the Gothic war were over. Theodosius made his formal entry into Constantinople, November 24, 380, and at once required the bishop either to accept the Nicene faith or to leave the city. Demophilus honourably refused to give up his heresy, and adjourned his services to the suburbs. So ended the forty years of Arian domination in Constantinople. But the mob was still Arian, and their stormy demonstrations when the cathedral of the Twelve Apostles was given up to Gregory of Nazianzus were enough to make Theodosius waver. Arian influence was still strong at court, and Arian bishops came flocking to Constantinople. Low as they had fallen, they could still count among them the great name of Ulfilas. But he could give them little help, for though the Goths of Moesia were faithful to the Empire, Theodosius preferred the stalwart heathens of Athanaric to their Arian countrymen. Ulfilas died at Constantinople like Athanaric, but there was no royal funeral for the first apostle of the Northern nations. Theodosius hesitated, and even consented to see the heresiarch Eunomius, who was then living near Constantinople. The Nicenes took alarm, and the Empress Flaccilla urged her husband on the path of persecution. The next edict (Jan. 381) forbade heretical discussions and assemblies inside cities, and ordered the churches everywhere to be given up to the Nicenes. [Sidenote: Council of Constantinople (May 381).] Thus was Arianism put down, as it had been set up, by the civil power. Nothing now remained but to clear away the disorders which the strife had left behind. Once more an imperial summons went forth for a council to meet at Constantinople in May 381. It was a sombre gathering. The bright hope which lighted the Empire at Nicæa had long ago died out, and even the conquerors now had no more joyous feeling than that of thankfulness that the weary strife was coming to an end. Only a hundred and fifty bishops were present, all of them Easterns. The West was not represented even by a Roman legate. Amongst them were Meletius of Antioch, Gregory of Nyssa, Cyril of Jerusalem, Gregory of Nazianzus as elect of Constantinople, and Basil's unworthy successor, Helladius of Cæsarea. Timothy of Alexandria came later. The Semiarians mustered thirty-six under Eleusius of Cyzicus. [Sidenote: Appointments of Gregory, Flavian, and Nectarius.] The bishops were greeted with much splendour, and received a truly imperial welcome in the form of a new edict of persecution against the Manichees. Meletius of Antioch presided in the council, and Paulinus was ignored. Theodosius was no longer neutral between Constantinople and Alexandria. The Egyptians were not invited to the earlier sittings, or at least were not present. The first act of the assembly was to ratify the choice of Gregory of Nazianzus as bishop of Constantinople. Meletius died as they were coming to discuss the affairs of Antioch, and Gregory took his place as president. Here was an excellent chance of putting an end to the schism, for Paulinus and Meletius had agreed that on the death of either of them, the survivor should be recognised by both parties as bishop of Antioch. But the council was jealous of Paulinus and his Western friends, and broke the agreement by appointing Flavian, one of the presbyters who had sworn to refuse the office. Gregory's remonstrance against this breach of faith only drew upon him the hatred of the Eastern bishops. The Egyptians, on the other hand, were glad to join any attack on a nominee of Meletius, and found an obsolete Nicene canon to invalidate his translation from Sasima to Constantinople. Both parties were thus agreed for evil. Gregory cared not to dispute with them, but gave up his beloved Anastasia, and retired to end his days at Nazianzus. The council was not worthy of him. His successor was another sort of man. Nectarius, the prætor of Constantinople, was a man of the world of dignified presence, but neither saint nor student. Him, however, Theodosius chose to fill the vacant see, and under his guidance the council finished its sessions. [Sidenote: Retirement of the Semiarians.] The next move was to find out whether the Semiarians were willing to share the victory of the Nicenes. As they were still a strong party round the Hellespont, their friendship was important. Theodosius also was less of a zealot than some of his admirers imagine. The sincerity of his desire to conciliate Eleusius is fairly guaranteed by his effort two years later to find a scheme of comprehension even for the Anomoeans. But the old soldier was not to be tempted by hopes of imperial favour. However he might oppose the Anomoeans, he could not forgive the Nicenes their inclusion of the Holy Spirit in the sphere of co-essential deity. Those of the Semiarians who were willing to join the Nicenes had already done so, and the rest were obstinate. They withdrew from the council and gave up their churches like the Arians. They comforted themselves with those words of Scripture, 'The churchmen are many, but the elect are few.'[17] [Footnote 17: Matt. xx. 16.] [Sidenote: Close of the council.] Whatever jealousies might divide the conquerors, the Arian contest was now at an end. Pontus and Syria were still divided from Rome and Egypt on the question of Flavian's appointment, and there were the germs of many future troubles in the disposition of Alexandria to look for help to Rome against the upstart see of Constantinople; but against Arianism the council was united. Its first canon is a solemn ratification of the Nicene creed in its original shape, with a formal condemnation of all the heresies, 'and specially those of the Eunomians or Anomoeans, of the Arians or Eudoxians (_Homoeans_), of the Semiarians or Pneumatomachi; of the Sabellians, Marcellians, Photinians, and Apollinarians.' [Sidenote: The spurious Nicene creed.] The bishops issued no new creed. Tradition indeed ascribes to them the spurious Nicene creed of our Communion Service, with the exception of two later insertions--the clause 'God of God,' and the procession of the Holy Spirit 'from the Son' as well as 'from the Father.' The story is an old one, for it can be traced back to one of the speakers at the council of Chalcedon in 451. It caused some surprise at the time, but was afterwards accepted. Yet it is beyond all question false. This is shown by four convergent lines of argument. In the first place, (1.) it is _a priori_ unlikely. The Athanasian party had been contending all along, not vaguely for the Nicene doctrine, but for the Nicene creed, the whole Nicene creed, and nothing but the Nicene creed. Athanasius refused to touch it at Sardica in 343, refused again at Alexandria in 362, and to the end of his life refused to admit that it was in any way defective. Basil himself as late as 377 declined even to consider some additions to the incarnation proposed to him by Epiphanius of Salamis. Is it likely that their followers would straightway revise the creed the instant they got the upper hand in 381? And such a revision! The elaborate framework of Nicæa is completely shattered, and even the keystone clause 'of the essence of the Father' is left out. Moreover, (2.) there is no contemporary evidence that they did revise it. No historian mentions anything of the sort, and no single document connected with the council gives the slightest colour to the story. There is neither trace nor sign of it for nearly seventy years. The internal evidence (3.) points the same way. Deliberate revision implies a deliberate purpose to the alterations made. Now in this case, though we have serious variations enough, there is another class of differences so meaningless that they cannot even be represented in an English translation. There remains (4.) one more argument. The spurious Nicene creed cannot be the work of the fathers of Constantinople in 381, because it is given in the _Ancoratus_ of Epiphanius, which was certainly written in 374. But if the council did not draw up the creed, it is time to ask who did. Everything seems to show that it is not a revision of the Nicene creed at all, but of the local creed of Jerusalem, executed by Bishop Cyril on his return from exile in 362. This is only a theory, but it has all the evidence which a theory can have--it explains the whole matter. In the first place, the meaningless changes disappear if we compare the spurious Nicene creed with that of Jerusalem instead of the genuine Nicene. Every difference can be accounted for by reference to the known position and opinions of Cyril. Thus the old Jerusalem creed says that the Lord '_sat_ down at the right hand of the Father;' our 'Nicene,' that he '_sitteth_.' Now this is a favourite point of Cyril in his _Catecheses_--that the Lord did not sit down once for all, but that he sitteth so for ever. Similarly other points. We also know that other local creeds were revised about the same time and in the same way. In the next place, the occurrence of a revised Jerusalem creed in the _Ancoratus_ is natural. Epiphanius was past middle life when he left Palestine for Cyprus in 368, and never forgot the friends he left behind at Lydda. We are also in a position to account for its ascription to the council of Constantinople. Cyril's was a troubled life, and there are many indications that he was accused of heresy in 381, and triumphantly acquitted by the council. In such a case his creed would naturally be examined and approved. It was a sound confession, and in no way heretical. From this point its history is clearer. The authority of Jerusalem combined with its own intrinsic merits to recommend it, and the incidental approval of the bishops at Constantinople was gradually developed into the legend of their authorship. [Sidenote: The rest of the canons.] The remaining canons are mostly aimed at the disorders which had grown up during the reign of Valens. One of them checks the reckless accusations which were brought against the bishops by ordering that no charge of heresy should be received from heretics and such like. Such a disqualification of accusers was not unreasonable, as it did not apply to charges of private wrong; yet this clerical privilege grew into one of the worst scandals of the Middle Ages. The forged decretals of the ninth century not only order the strictest scrutiny of witnesses against a bishop, but require seventy-two of them to convict him of any crime _except_ heresy. Another canon forbids the intrusion of bishops into other dioceses. 'Nevertheless, the bishop of Constantinople shall hold the first rank after the bishop of Rome, because Constantinople is New Rome.' This is the famous third canon, which laid a foundation for the ecclesiastical authority of Constantinople. It was extended at Chalcedon [Sidenote: 451.] into a jurisdiction over the whole country from Mount Taurus to the Danube, and by Justinian into the supremacy of the East. The canon, therefore, marks a clear step in the concentration of the Eastern Church and Empire round Constantinople. The blow struck Rome on one side, Alexandria on the other. It was the reason why Rome withheld for centuries her full approval from the council of Constantinople. [Sidenote: 1215.] She could not safely give it till her Eastern rival was humiliated; and this was not till the time of the Latin Emperors in the thirteenth century. [Sidenote: Second edict defining orthodoxy.] The council having ratified the Emperor's work, it only remained for the Emperor to complete that of the council. A new edict in July forbade Arians of every sort to build churches. Even their old liberty to build outside the walls of cities was now taken from them. At the end of the month Theodosius issued an amended definition of orthodoxy. Henceforth sound belief was to be guaranteed by communion, no longer with Rome and Alexandria, but with Constantinople, Alexandria, and the chief bishoprics of the East. The choice of bishops was decided partly by their own importance, partly by that of their sees. Gregory of Nyssa may represent one class, Helladius of Cæsarea the other. The omissions, however, are significant. We miss not only Antioch and Jerusalem, but Ephesus and Hadrianople, and even Nicomedia. There is a broad space left clear around the Bosphorus. If we now take into account the third canon, we cannot mistake the Asiatic policy of endeavouring to replace the primacy of Rome or Alexandria by that of Constantinople. [Sidenote: The Novatians.] The tolerance of Theodosius was a little, though only a little, wider than it seems. Though the Novatians were not in communion with Nectarius, they were during the next half century a recognised exception to the persecuting laws. They had always been sound as against Arianism, and their bishop Agelius had suffered exile under Valens. His confession was approved by Theodosius, and several of his successors lived on friendly terms with liberal or worldly patriarchs like Nectarius and Atticus. They suffered something from the bigotry of Chrysostom, something also from the greed of Cyril, but for them the age of persecution only began with Nestorius in 428. [Sidenote: Decay of Arianism.] So far as numbers went, the cause of Arianism was not even yet hopeless. It was still fairly strong in Syria and Asia, and counted adherents as far west as the banks of the Danube. At Constantinople it could raise dangerous riots (in one of them Nectarius had his house burnt), and even at the court of Milan it had a powerful supporter in Valentinian's widow, the Empress Justina. Yet its fate was none the less a mere question of time. Its cold logic generated no such fiery enthusiasm as sustained the African Donatists; the newness of its origin allowed no venerable traditions to grow up round it like those of heathenism, while its imperial claims and past successes cut it off from the appeal of later heresies to provincial separatism. When, therefore, the last overtures of Theodosius fell through in 383, the heresy was quite unable to bear the strain of steady persecution. [Sidenote: Teutonic Arianism: (1.) In the East.] But if Arianism soon ceased to be a power inside the Empire, it remained the faith of the barbarian invaders. The work of Ulfilas was not in vain. Not the Goths only, but all the earlier Teutonic converts were Arians. And the Goths had a narrow miss of empire. The victories of Theodosius were won by Gothic strength. It was the Goths who scattered the mutineers of Britain, and triumphantly scaled the impregnable walls of Aquileia; [Sidenote: 388.] the Goths who won the hardest battle of the century, and saw the Franks themselves go down before them on the Frigidus. [Sidenote: 394.] The Goths of Alaric plundered Rome itself; the Goths of Gaïnas entered Constantinople, though only to be overwhelmed and slaughtered round the vain asylum of their burning church. [Sidenote: (2.) In the West.] In the next century the Teutonic conquest of the West gave Arianism another lease of power. Once more the heresy was supreme in Italy, and Spain, and Africa. Once more it held and lost the future of the world. To the barbarian as well as to the heathen it was a half-way halt upon the road to Christianity; and to the barbarian also it was nothing but a source of weakness. It lived on and in its turn perpetuated the feud between the Roman and the Teuton which caused the destruction of the earlier Teutonic kingdoms in Western Europe. The provincials or their children might forget the wrongs of conquest, but heresy was a standing insult to the Roman world. Theodoric the Ostrogoth may rank with the greatest statesmen of the Empire, yet even Theodoric found his Arianism a fatal disadvantage. And if the isolation of heresy fostered the beginnings of a native literature, it also blighted every hope of future growth. The Goths were not inferior to the English, but there is nothing in Gothic history like the wonderful burst of power which followed the conversion of the English. There is no Gothic writer to compare with Bede or Cædmon. Jordanis is not much to set against them, and even Jordanis was not an Arian. [Sidenote: Fall of Teutonic Arianism.] The sword of Belisarius did but lay open the internal disunion of Italy and Africa. A single blow destroyed the kingdom of the Vandals, and all the valour of the Ostrogoths could only win for theirs a downfall of heroic grandeur. Sooner or later every Arian nation had to purge itself of heresy or vanish from the earth. Even the distant Visigoths [Sidenote: 589.] were forced to see that Arians could not hold Spain. The Lombards in Italy were the last defenders of the hopeless cause, and they too yielded a few years later to the efforts of Pope Gregory and Queen Theudelinda. [Sidenote: 599.] Of Continental Teutons, the Franks alone escaped the divisions of Arianism. In the strength of orthodoxy they drove the Goths before them on the field of Vouglé, [Sidenote: 507.] and brought the green standard of the Prophet to a halt upon the Loire. [Sidenote: 732.] The Franks were no better than their neighbours--rather worse--so that it was nothing but their orthodoxy which won for them the prize which the Lombard and the Goth had missed, and brought them through a long career of victory to that proud day of universal reconciliation [Sidenote: 800.] when the strife of ages was forgotten, and Arianism with it--when, after more than three hundred years of desolating anarchy, the Latin and the Teuton joined to vindicate for Old Rome her just inheritance of empire, and to set its holy diadem upon the head of Karl the Frank. [Sidenote: Conclusion.] Now that we have traced the history of Arianism to its final overthrow, let us once more glance at the causes of its failure. Arianism, then, was an illogical compromise. It went too far for heathenism, not far enough for Christianity. It conceded Christian worship to the Lord, yet made him no better than a heathen demigod. It confessed a Heavenly Father, as in Christian duty bound, yet identified Him with the mysterious and inaccessible Supreme of the philosophers. As a scheme of Christianity, it was overmatched at every point by the Nicene doctrine; as a concession to heathenism, it was outbid by the growing worship of saints and relics. Debasing as was the error of turning saints into demigods, it seems to have shocked Christian feeling less than the Arian audacity which degraded the Lord of saints to the level of his creatures. But the crowning weakness of Arianism was the incurable badness of its method. Whatever were the errors of Athanasius--and in details they were not a few--his work was without doubt a faithful search for truth by every means attainable to him. He may be misled by his ignorance of Hebrew or by the defective exegesis of his time; but his eyes are always open to the truth, from whatever quarter it may come to him. In breadth of view as well as grasp of doctrine, he is beyond comparison with the rabble of controversialists who cursed or still invoke his name. The gospel was truth and life to him, not a mere subject for strife and debate. It was far otherwise with the Arians. On one side their doctrine was a mass of presumptuous theorizing, supported by alternate scraps of obsolete traditionalism and uncritical text-mongering; on the other it was a lifeless system of spiritual pride and hard unlovingness. Therefore Arianism perished. So too every system, whether of science or theology, must likewise perish which presumes like Arianism to discover in the feeble brain of man a law to circumscribe the revelation of our Father's love in Christ. CHRONOLOGICAL TABLE. 269. Claudius defeats the Goths at Naissus. 272. Aurelian defeats Zenobia. 284-305. Diocletian. Cir. 297. Birth of Athanasius. 303-313. The great persecution. 306-337. Constantine (in Gaul). 311. First edict of toleration (by Galerius). 312-337. Constantine (in Italy). 312. Second edict of toleration (from Milan). 314. Council of Arles, on the Donatists, &c. 315-337. Constantine (in Illyricum). Cir. 317. Athanasius _de Incarnatione Verbi Dei_. Cir. 318. Outbreak of Arian controversy. 323-337. Constantine (in the East). 325 (June). Council of Nicæa. 328-373. Athanasius bishop of Alexandria. 330. Foundation of Constantinople. Cir. 330. Deposition of Eustathius of Antioch. 335. Councils of Tyre and Jerusalem. 336 (Feb.)-337 (Nov.) First exile of Athanasius. 337 (May 22). Death of Constantine. 339 (Lent)-346 (Oct.) Second exile of Athanasius. 341. Council of the Dedication at Antioch. Consecration of Ulfilas. 343. Councils of Sardica and Philippopolis. 350. Death of Constans. 351. Battle of Mursa. 353. Death of Magnentius. 355. Julian Cæsar in Gaul. Council at Milan. 356 (Feb. 8)-362 (Feb. 22). Third exile of Athanasius. 357. Sirmian manifesto. 358. Council at Ancyra. Hilary _de Synodis_. 359 (May 22). Conference at Sirmium. The dated creed. Councils of Ariminum and Seleucia. Athanasius _de Synodis_. 360 (Jan.) Julian Augustus at Paris. Council at Constantinople. Exile of Semiarians. 361. Appointment and exile of Meletius. (Nov.) Death of Constantius. 362. Council at Alexandria. Fourth exile of Athanasius. 363 (June 26). Death of Julian. Jovian succeeds. 364 (Feb. 16). Death of Jovian. Valentinian succeeds. 365-366. Revolt of Procopius. Fifth exile and final restoration of Athanasius. 367-369. Gothic war. 370-379. Basil bishop of Cæsarea (in Cappadocia). 371. Death of Marcellus. 372. Meeting of Basil and Valens. 373 (May 2). Death of Athanasius. 374. Epiphanius _Ancoratus_. 374-397. Ambrose bishop of Milan. 375. Death of Valentinian. Gratian succeeds. 376. Goths pass the Danube. 378 (Aug. 9). Battle of Hadrianople. Death of Valens. 379-395. Theodosius Emperor. 381 (May.) Council of Constantinople. 383. Last overtures of Theodosius to the Arians. 397. Chrysostom bishop of Constantinople. 410. Sack of Rome by Alaric. 451. Council of Chalcedon. 487-526. Reign of Theodoric in Italy. 507. Battle of Vouglé. 589. Visigoths abandon Arianism. 599. Lombards abandon Arianism. 800. Coronation of Karl the Frank. INDEX. Acasius, Bishop of Cæsarea, 42, 49; at Sardica, 70, 90; forms Homoean party, 92; at Seleucia, 97; character, 100; at Constantinople, 101; and Meletius, 103, 104; accepts Nicene faith, 115, 120, 124. Aetius, Anomoean doctrine, 75; ordained by Leontius, 78; 100; degraded, 101. Agelius, Novatian bishop of Constantinople, 163. Alaric, 164. Alexander, Bishop of Alexandria, 5; excommunicates Arius, 14, 19; at Nicæa, 21; death of, 47; and Athanasius, 48. Alexander, Bishop of Thessalonica, at Tyre, 57, 58. Ambrose, Bishop of Milan, 122, 134; Illyrian council, 146, 151. Ammianus, historian, 109. Anastasia church, 153. Anthimus, Bishop of Tyana, quarrels with Basil, 135, 153; with Gregory of Nyssa, 145. Antony, legendary hermit, 48, 123. Apollinarius of Laodicea, 12, 113, 124; doctrine, 136-142, 145. Arinthæus the Goth, 132. Arius, early life and doctrine, 5; excommunicated, 14; flees to Cæsarea, 15, 19; exiled, 38; restored at Jerusalem, 58; death, 59; 68, 75, 77; and Apollinarius, 137. Ascholius, Bishop of Thessalonica, baptizes Theodosius, 155. Asterius, Cappadocian sophist, 131. Athanaric, Goth, 148; death, 155. Athanasius, _de Incarnatione_, 9-12; as a commentator, 13, 49, 167; at Nicæa, 21; persistence, 27; account of Nicene debates, 34; dislikes Meletian settlement, 38; policy at Nicæa, 39; 46, 47; Bishop of Alexandria, 48; character and early life, 48; power in Egypt, 50, 87, 114, 122; at Tyre, 57; flees to Constantinople, 58, 87; first exile, 59; return, 62; second exile, 64, 68; at Sardica, 70; second return, 73; overtures of Magnentius, 81; expelled by Syrianus, 86; third exile, 87; on Homoean reasoning, 94; _de Synodis_, 97, 98; third return, 111; at council of Alexandria, 112; fourth exile, 114; fourth return, 120, 122; on the Holy Spirit, 125; troubles with Valens, 127; final restoration, 129; and Basil, 132, 134; and Apollinarius, 137-141; last years, reception of Marcellus, 142; death, 143; 151; holds to Nicene creed, 160. Aurelian, Emperor (270-275), services, 16; test of Christian orthodoxy, 24. Auxentius, Arian bishop of Milan, 102, 121; Cappadocian, 131. Baptismal professions, 23. Basil, Bishop of Ancyra, expelled, 62; restored, 82; at synod of Ancyra, 90, 132; 98, returns, 111. Basil, Bishop of Cæsarea (Cappadocia), 109; on the Holy Spirit, 125; life and work, 132-136; on reception of Marcellians, 144, 145; death, 151; student life, 152; holds to Nicene creed, 160. Basilina, mother of Julian, 105, 106. Belisarius, 165. Cæcilian, Bishop of Carthage, at Nicæa, 20. Cappadocia, 130. Carpones, an early Arian, 14; at Rome, 65. Chrysostom (John), 43, 46, 163. Claudius, Bishop in Picenum, 100. Constans, Emperor (337-350), 62, 69, 73; death, 80. Constantia, sister of Constantine, 25. Constantine, Emperor (306-337), character, 17; dealings with Arianism, 18; summons Nicene council, 19; action there, 36, 37, 47; church on Golgotha, 57, 76; exiles Athanasius, 59; work and death, 61; church at Antioch, 67, 87; power of his name, 80, 127, 128; 148. Constantine II., Emperor (337-340), 62; death, 70. Constantius, Emperor (337-361), 45, 46; accession and character, 62; calls Sardican council, 70; recalls Athanasius, 73; defeats Magnentius, 81; pressure on the West, 82; exiles Liberius, 85; expels Athanasius, 86, 101, 103; death of, 106, 112. Councils: Alexandria (362), 112. Ancyra (358), 90. Antioch (269), 33. " (338), 64. " (341), 67. " (344), 72. Ariminum (359), 93. Arles (314), 20. " (353), 70. Constantinople (360), 101. " (381), 157. Lampsacus (364), 125. Jerusalem (335), 58. Milan (355), 83. Nicæa (325), 19-40. Sardica (343), 70. Seleucia (359), 93. Tyre (335), 57. Creeds: Antioch (first), 68. " (second = Lucianic), 68. " (third = Tyana), 69. " (fourth), 69. " (fifth), 72. Apostles' (Marcellus), 22, 67. Cæsarea, 26. Constantinople (360), 101. "Constantinople" (381), 159. Jerusalem, 77, 159. Nicæa (genuine) 29. " (spurious), 159. Nicé, 95. Sardica (Philippopolis), 72. Seleucia, 97. Sirmium (manifesto), 88. " (dated), 94. Cyril, Bishop of Alexandria, 163. Cyril, Bishop of Jerusalem, _Catecheses_, 76; accepts Nicene faith, 115; 147, 151; at Constantinople, 157; and "Nicene" creed, 160, 161. Dalmatius, 62. Damasus, Bishop of Rome, 155. Demophilus, Bishop of Constantinople, 122, 145, 151; gives up the churches, 156. Dianius, Bishop of Cæsarea (Cappadocia), 115; baptizes Basil, 132. Diocletian, Emperor (284-305), persecution, 9; reign, 17. Diodorus, Bishop of Tarsus, 78. Dionysius, Bishop of Milan, exiled, 82, 83, 90. Dominica, Empress, 126. Donatists, 18, 20. Dorotheus, Arian bishop of Antioch, 151. Eleusius, Bishop of Cyzicus, at Seleucia, 96, 97, 115; at Lampsacus, 125; at Constantinople, 157, 158. Epiphanius, Bishop of Salamis, 160, 161. Eudoxius, Bishop of Constantinople, 75; Bishop of Antioch, 90, 97; translated to Constantinople, 102; 104, 115, 120; 122; deposed at Lampsacus, 125; influence with Valens, 126, 129; Cappadocian, 131, 145. Eugenius, deacon, 142. Euippius, Arian bishop, 132, 133. Eunomius, Anomoean, 75, 95; Bishop of Cyzicus, 103, 115; on the Holy Spirit, 125; exiled, 130; Cappadocian, 131; 156. Euphrates, Bishop of Cologne, 72. Euphronius, Bishop of Antioch, 51. Eusebia, Empress, 105. Eusebius, Bishop of Cæsarea (Palestine), countenances Arius, 15, 21; action at Nicæa, 25; proposes Cæsarean creed, 35; signs Nicene, 36; 42; caution after Nicæa, 47; 49, 51; at Tyre, 57, 58; succeeded by Acacius, 70, 100. Eusebius, Bishop of Cæsarea (Cappadocia), 132. Eusebius, Bishop of Nicomedia, favours Arius, 15; at Nicæa, 21; presents Arianizing creed, 25; 37; exiled, 38; organizes new party, 50; attacks Athanasius, 56, 59. Eusebius, Bishop of Samosata, 133, 151; murder of, 152. Eusebius, Bishop of Vercellæ, exiled, 83, 90; restored, 111; at Alexandria, 112. Eustathius, Bishop of Antioch, at Nicæa, 21, 34; exiled, 51; and Apollinarius, 137. Eustathius, Bishop of Sebastia, at Ancyra, 91, 103; at Lampsacus, 126; exiled by Valens, goes to Liberius, 128, 132; quarrels with Basil, 135, 136, 145. Euzoius, an early Arian, 14, 58, 68; Bishop of Antioch, 104, 115, 120, 124; death, 151. Flavian, Bishop of Antioch, 78, 158. Flavianus, prefect of Egypt, 127. Fortunatian, Bishop of Aquileia, 70. Fritigern, Goth, 148; death, 154. Gaïnas, 164. Galatia, 52. Gallus, Cæsar, 62, 105. George of Cappodocia, Arian bishop of Alexandria, 86, 87; deposed at Seleucia, 97; and Julian, 107; lynched, 111, 112; 131. Germinius, Bishop of Cyzicus, translated to Sirmium, 82. Gothic wars, first, 129; second (Hadrianople), 149-155. Gratian, Emperor (375-383), 149; edict of toleration, 151; takes Theodosius for colleague, 154. Gratus of Carthage, 70 Gregory, Bishop of Nazianzus, consecrates Basil, 133; 152. Gregory of Nazianzus (son of the above), 151; life and work at Constantinople, 152, 156; Bishop of Constantinople, 157, 158. Gregory, Bishop of Nyssa, 141, 145; at Constantinople, 157, 163. Gregory, Bishop of Rome, 166. Gregory of Cappadocia; Arian bishop of Alexandria, 64; death of, 73; 86, 131. Gregory the Wonder-worker, 132. Hannibalianus, 62. Hecebolius, renegade, 107. Helladius, Bishop of Cæsarea (Cappadocia), 157, 163. Hilarion, legendary hermit, 123. Hilary, Bishop of Poitiers, 46, 67, 82; exile and character, 84, 90; denounces Liberius, 92; his _de Synodis_, 93; at Seleucia, 96; 112; on the Holy Spirit, 124. Hosius, Bishop of Cordova, at Nicæa, 20; 34, 37; at Sardica, 70, 72, 82; exile and death, 85, 90. James, Bishop of Nisibis, at Nicæa, 21. Jerusalem in 348, 76. John Archaph, Meletian, exiled, 59. John the Persian at Nicæa, 22. Jordanis, 165. Jovian, Emperor (363-364), 119, 120. Julian, Emperor (361-363), 40, 43, 46, 47, 62; made Cæsar, 83; Augustus, 102; his reign, 105-117; ascetic leanings, 108, 123; education edict, 109, 137; exiles Athanasius, 114, 127; results, 118, 122; and Cappadocia, 130; student life, 152. Julius, Bishop of Rome, receives Athanasius and Marcellus, 65; 70, 72, 85, 88. Julius Constantius, 105. Justina, Empress, 164. Karl the Great, coronation of, 166. Lactantius on the persecutors, 11. Leonas, 97. Leontius, Bishop of Antioch, appointed, 72; management, 78; 104. Libanius, heathen rhetorician, 43; friend of Basil, 132. Liberius, Bishop of Rome, 82; disavows Vincent, 83; exile of, 85, 90; signs Sirmian creed, 91; receives Semiarian deputation, 128. Licinius, Emperor (306-323), 15, 19. Lucian of Antioch, teacher of Arius, 5; of Eusebius of Nicomedia, 15; disciples at Nicæa, 21; left no successors, 46; disciples after Nicæa, 50; connection with Aetius, 75. Lucianic creed, at Antioch, 68; 77, 91; at Seleucia, 97, 115; at Lampsacus, 126. Lucifer, Bishop of Calaris, exile and writings, 83, 90; returns, 111; absent from Alexandria, 112; consecrates Paulinus, 114; forms schism, 124, 134. Lucius, Arian bishop of Alexandria, 142, 144, 147. Macarius, Bishop of Ælia (Jerusalem), 15; at Nicæa, 21. Macedonius, Bishop of Constantinople, 79, 115. Magnentius, Emperor (350-353), 74; 80, 82. Marcellus, Bishop of Ancyra, at Nicæa, 21; and Apostles' creed, 23, 67; persistence, 27; 31, 32; and Nicene creed, 47, 51; character and doctrine, 52-56; exiled, 59; restored, 62; flees to Rome, 65; at Sardica, 70, 72; attacked by Cyril, 77; deposed, 81; 90, 103; returns, 111; embassy to Athanasius, 142; death, 143; extinction of his school, 144. Mardonius, 105, 107. Maris, Bishop of Chalcedon, at Nicæa, 21; curses Julian, 111, 117. Maximin (Daza), Emperor (305-313), 48. Maximus, Bishop of Jerusalem, 57, 58; receives Athanasius, 73. Maximus, Bishop of Trier, 70. Meletius, Bishop of Antioch, 78; translated from Sebastia, 103; exiled, 104; return, 113, 115; accepts Nicene creed, 120; exiled by Valens, 128; restored, 129; 131, 134, 147, 151; death at Constantinople, 157. Meletius, Bishop of Lycopolis, 19; Nicene settlement, 38. Modestus, renegade, 132, 133. Nectarius, Bishop of Constantinople, 158, 163, 164. Nepotianus, Emperor (350), 80. Nestorius, Bishop of Constantinople, 163. Origen, 9, 33, 76, 113; on the Holy Spirit, 124. Paphnutius, confessor, at Nicæa, 21; at Tyre, 57, 58. Paul, Bishop of Neocæsarea, at Nicæa, 21. Paul of Samosata, 33, 91. Paul of Thebes, legendary hermit, 123. Paulinus, 51; consecrated by Lucifer, 114, 147; ignored at Constantinople, 157, 158. Paulinus, Bishop of Trier, 82, 83, 90. Pegasius, Bishop of Ilium, apostate, 108. Pelagius, Bishop of Laodicea, 104. Peter, Bishop of Alexandria, 144, 152, 155. Philagrius, expels Athanasius, 64, 86. Phoebadius, Bishop of Agen, condemns Sirmian manifesto, 90; at Ariminum, 99, 101. Photinus, Bishop of Sirmium, condemned, 73; deposed, 81; 90, 91. Pistus, an early Arian, 14; Arian bishop of Alexandria, 64, 65. Poemenius, Anomoean bishop of Constantinople, 120. Potammon, confessor, at Nicæa, 21; at Tyre, 57, 58. Proæresius, teacher of Julian, 109, 152. Procopius, revolt of, 128. Protasius, Bishop of Milan, 70. Restaces, Armenian bishop at Nicæa, 22. Sabellianism, its meaning, 9; relation of Athanasius to, 12, 32; general dislike of, 13; relation of Marcellus to, 32. Sasima, 153. Sebastian the Manichee, outrages in Egypt, 86; commands against Goths, 149. Secundus, Bishop of Ptolemais, at Nicæa, 21; refuses Nicene creed, 38; consecrates Pistus, 64, 65. Serapion, Bishop of Thmuis, 125. Silvanus the Frank, 81. Silvanus, Bishop of Tarsus, at Seleucia, 95, 97. Socrates, historian, 79. Stephen, Bishop of Antioch, at Sardica, 70; deposed, 72. Syrianus, _dux Ægypti_, expels Athanasius, 86. Tertullian, 9. Theodoric, 165. Theodosius, Emperor (379-395), choice of and character, 154; first rescript, 155; calls council of Constantinople, 157; second rescript, 163. Theodotus, Bishop of Nicopolis, 136. Theonas, Bishop of Marmarica, at Nicæa, 21; refuses Nicene creed, 38. Theophilus the Goth, at Nicæa, 22. Theophilus the Indian, 120. Theophronius, Bishop of Tyana, 69. Theudelinda, Lombard queen, 166. Timothy, Bishop of Alexandria, 157. Ulfilas, death, 156, 164. Ursacius, Bishop of Singidunum, and Sirmian manifesto, 88, 90, 91; forms Homoean party, 92; at Ariminum, 95. Valens, Emperor (364-378), 46; character, 121; church and state under, 122, 144, 161; 124; Homoean policy, 126; fresh exiles, 127; Procopian panic, 128; baptism and first Gothic war, 129; overawed by Basil, 133; second Gothic war, 149; death at Hadrianople, 150. Valens, Bishop of Mursa, and Sirmian manifesto, 88, 90, 91; forms Homoean party, 92; at Ariminum, 95, 99, 101, 130. Valentinian, Emperor (364-375), character and policy, 121; Semiarian deputation to, 128, 131; death, 146. Vetranio, Emperor (350), 80, 81. Victor, a Sarmatian, 132. Victorinus, Marius, 109. Vincent, Bishop of Capua, at Nicæa, 20; at Sardica, 70; at Antioch, 72; yields at Arles, 83. Vitalis, Apollinarian bishop of Antioch, 141. 
18513	----	[Frontispiece: Jesus of Nazareth] JESUS OF NAZARETH A BIOGRAPHY BY JOHN MARK D. APPLETON AND COMPANY NEW YORK : : LONDON : : MCMXXII COPYRIGHT 1922, BY D. APPLETON AND COMPANY FOREWORD "Jesus of Nazareth, a Biography, by John Mark," recognizes the author of the second Gospel as that "John, whose surname was Mark" (Acts 15:37), whom Barnabas chose as companion when he sailed for Cyprus on his second missionary journey. In making use of the new title, the plan of the Editor is to present "The Gospel: According to Mark" as it would be printed were it written in the twentieth rather than the first century. Mark's Gospel has been chosen for this purpose to make available in more readable form this timely portion of the Bible. In John Mark the missionary is revealed a man of action. This characteristic influences strongly the point of view and style of his writing. As John, the beloved disciple, in "The Revelation" beholds the victorious Christ as "the Lion of the tribe of Judah," foretold by the prophets, so Mark sees Jesus of Nazareth as the strong, vigorous man of action; he writes of His mighty works in swift narrative at times so vivid it flashes like a burst of flame, as though the facts presented must have been on fire in the heart of the author. Written for the practical, energetic Roman, the Editor feels that this biography of Jesus of Nazareth exactly fits the mood of our own time, with its emphasis upon the practical and its insistence that the man of action, the doer, is the man for the hour. Printed like a modern book, but in the fine old King James' version, it is believed that all Bible lovers will welcome their old friend, "The Gospel: According to Mark," in its new literary dress; it is hoped, too, that in this popular form book buyers and lovers of good literature may be led to purchase a book which needs only to be thoroughly and thoughtfully read to be greatly reverenced. CONTENTS CHAPTER I. HAIL, THE GALILEAN II. A TEACHER WITH AUTHORITY III. A BROTHER TO ALL WHO DO THE WILL OF GOD IV. THE WISDOM OF THE AGES V. LORD OF LIFE AND LOVE VI. IS NOT HE THE CARPENTER? VII. NEVER A MAN LIKE HIM VIII. "THOU ART THE CHRIST" IX. STRONG SON OF GOD X. MASTER OF MEN BUT SERVANT OF ALL XI. HE THAT COMETH IN THE NAME OF THE LORD XII. IN CONFLICT WITH SCRIBES AND PHARISEES XIII. JERUSALEM THAT KILLETH THE PROPHETS XIV. DESPISED AND REJECTED BY FRIEND AND FOE XV. CRUCIFIED, DEAD AND BURIED XVI. JESUS OF NAZARETH RISES FROM THE DEAD JESUS OF NAZARETH CHAPTER I HAIL, THE GALILEAN The beginning of the gospel of Jesus Christ, the Son of God; as it is written in the prophets, "Behold, I send my messenger before thy face, which shall prepare thy way before thee. The voice of one crying in the wilderness. Prepare ye the way of the Lord, make his paths straight." John did baptize in the wilderness, and preach the baptism of repentance for the remission of sins. And there went out unto him all the land of Judaea, and they of Jerusalem, and were all baptized of him in the river of Jordan, confessing their sins. And John was clothed with camel's hair, and with a girdle of a skin about his loins; and he did eat locusts and wild honey; and preached, saying: "There cometh one mightier than I after me, the latchet of whose shoes I am not worthy to stoop down and unloose. I indeed have baptized you with water: but he shall baptize you with the Holy Ghost." And it came to pass in those days, that Jesus came from Nazareth of Galilee, and was baptized of John in Jordan. And straightway coming up out of the water, he saw the heavens opened, and the Spirit like a dove descending upon him: and there came a voice from heaven, saying: "Thou art my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased." And immediately the spirit driveth him into the wilderness. And he was there in the wilderness forty days, tempted of Satan; and was with the wild beasts; and the angels ministered unto him. Now after that John was put in prison, Jesus came into Galilee, preaching the gospel of the kingdom of God, and saying: "The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God is at hand: repent ye, and believe the gospel." Now as he walked by the sea of Galilee, he saw Simon and Andrew his brother casting a net into the sea: for they were fishers. And Jesus said unto them: "Come ye after me, and I will make you to become fishers of men." And straightway they forsook their nets, and followed him. And when he had gone a little farther thence, he saw James the son of Zebedee, and John his brother, who also were in the ship mending their nets. And straightway he called them: and they left their father Zebedee in the ship with the hired servants, and went after him. And they went into Capernaum; and straightway on the sabbath day he entered into the synagogue, and taught. And they were astonished at his doctrine: for he taught them as one that had authority, and not as the scribes. And there was in their synagogue a man with an unclean spirit; and he cried out, saying: "Let us alone; what have we to do with thee, thou Jesus of Nazareth? Art thou come to destroy us? I know thee who thou art, the Holy One of God." And Jesus rebuked him, saying, "Hold thy peace, and come out of him." And when the unclean spirit had torn him, and cried with a loud voice, he came out of him. And they were all amazed, insomuch that they questioned among themselves, saying: "What thing is this? what new doctrine is this? for with authority commandeth he even the unclean spirits, and they do obey him." And immediately his fame spread abroad throughout all the region round about Galilee. And forthwith, when they were come out of the synagogue, they entered into the house of Simon and Andrew, with James and John. But Simon's wife's mother lay sick of a fever, and anon they tell him of her. And he came and took her by the hand, and lifted her up; and immediately the fever left her, and she ministered unto them. And at even, when the sun did set, they brought unto him all that were diseased, and them that were possessed with devils. And all the city was gathered together at the door. And he healed many that were sick of divers diseases, and cast out many devils; and suffered not the devils to speak, because they knew him. And in the morning, rising up a great while before day, he went out, and departed into a solitary place, and there prayed. And Simon and they that were with him followed after him. And when they had found him, they said unto him, "All men seek for thee." And he said unto them, "Let us go into the next towns, that I may preach there also; for therefore came I forth." And he preached in their synagogues throughout all Galilee, and cast out devils. And there came a leper to him, beseeching him, and kneeling down to him, and saying unto him, "If thou wilt, thou canst make me clean." And Jesus, moved with compassion, put forth his hand, and touched him, and saith unto him, "I will; be thou clean." And as soon as he had spoken, immediately the leprosy departed from him, and he was cleansed. And he straitly charged him, and forthwith sent him away; and saith unto him, "See thou say nothing to any man: but go thy way, shew thyself to the priest, and offer for thy cleansing those things which Moses commanded, for a testimony unto them." But he went out, and began to publish it much, and to blaze abroad the matter, insomuch that Jesus could no more openly enter into the city, but was without in desert places: and they came to him from every quarter. CHAPTER II A TEACHER WITH AUTHORITY And again he entered into Capernaum after some days; and it was noised that he was in the house. And straightway many were gathered together, insomuch that there was no room to receive them, no, not so much as about the door: and he preached the word unto them. And they come unto him, bringing one sick of the palsy, which was borne of four. And when they could not come nigh unto him for the press, they uncovered the roof where he was: and when they had broken it up, they let down the bed wherein the sick of the palsy lay. When Jesus saw their faith, he said unto the sick of the palsy: "Son, thy sins be forgiven thee." But there were certain of the scribes sitting there, and reasoning in their hearts: "Why doth this man thus speak blasphemies? Who can forgive sins but God only?" And immediately when Jesus perceived in his spirit that they so reasoned within themselves, he said unto them: "Why reason ye these things in your hearts? Whether is it easier to say to the sick of the palsy, 'Thy sins be forgiven thee;' or to say, 'Arise, and take up thy bed, and walk?' But that ye may know that the Son of man hath power on earth to forgive sins, (he saith to the sick of the palsy,) I say unto thee, 'Arise, and take up thy bed, and go thy way into thine house.'" And immediately he arose, took up the bed, and went forth before them all; insomuch that they were all amazed, and glorified God, saying: "We never saw it on this fashion." And he went forth again by the sea side; and all the multitude resorted unto him, and he taught them. And as he passed by, he saw Levi the son of Alphaeus sitting at the receipt of custom, and said unto him: "Follow me." And he arose and followed him. And it came to pass, that, as Jesus sat at meat in his house, many publicans and sinners sat also together with Jesus and his disciples: for there were many, and they followed him. And when the scribes and Pharisees saw him eat with publicans and sinners, they said unto his disciples: "How is it that he eateth and drinketh with publicans and sinners?" When Jesus heard it, he saith unto them; "They that are whole have no need of the physician, but they that are sick: I came not to call the righteous, but sinners to repentance." And the disciples of John and of the Pharisees used to fast: and they come and say unto him: "Why do the disciples of John and of the Pharisees fast, but thy disciples fast not?" And Jesus said unto them: "Can the children of the bridechamber fast, while the bridegroom is with them? As long as they have the bridegroom with them, they cannot fast. But the days will come, when the bridegroom shall be taken away from them, and then shall they fast in those days. No man also seweth a piece of new cloth on an old garment: else the new piece that filled it up taketh away from the old, and the rent is made worse. And no man putteth new wine into old bottles: else the new wine doth burst the bottles, and the wine is spilled, and the bottles will be marred: but new wine must be put into new bottles." And it came to pass, that he went through the corn fields on the sabbath day; and his disciples began, as they went, to pluck the ears of corn. And the Pharisees said unto him: "Behold, why do they on the sabbath day that which is not lawful?" And he said unto them: "Have ye never read what David did, when he had need, and was an hungered, he, and they that were with him? How he went into the house of God in the days of Abiathar the high priest, and did eat the shewbread, which is not lawful to eat but for the priests, and gave also to them which were with him?" And he said unto them: "The sabbath was made for man, and not man for the sabbath: therefore the Son of man is Lord also of the sabbath." CHAPTER III A BROTHER TO ALL WHO DO THE WILL OF GOD And he entered again into the synagogue; and there was a man there which had a withered hand. And they watched him, whether he would heal him on the sabbath day; that they might accuse him. And he saith unto the man which had the withered hand: "Stand forth." And he saith unto them: "Is it lawful to do good on the sabbath days, or to do evil? to save life, or to kill?" But they held their peace. And when he had looked round about on them with anger, being grieved for the hardness of their hearts, he saith unto the man: "Stretch forth thine hand." And he stretched it out: and his hand was restored whole as the other. And the Pharisees went forth, and straightway took counsel with the Herodians against him, how they might destroy him. But Jesus withdrew himself with his disciples to the sea: and a great multitude from Galilee followed him, and from Judaea, and from Jerusalem, and from Idumaea, and from beyond Jordan; and they about Tyre and Sidon, a great multitude, when they had heard what great things he did, came unto him. And he spake to his disciples, that a small ship should wait on him because of the multitude, lest they should throng him. For he had healed many; insomuch that they pressed upon him for to touch him, as many as had plagues. And unclean spirits, when they saw him, fell down before him, and cried, saying: "Thou art the Son of God." And he straitly charged them that they should not make him known. And he goeth up into a mountain, and calleth unto him whom he would: and they came unto him. And he ordained twelve, that they should be with him, and that he might send them forth to preach, and to have power to heal sicknesses, and to cast out devils: and Simon he surnamed Peter; and James the son of Zebedee, and John the brother of James; and he surnamed them Boanerges, which is. The sons of thunder: and Andrew, and Philip, and Bartholomew, and Matthew, and Thomas, and James the son of Alphaeus, and Thaddaeus, and Simon the Canaanite, and Judas Iscariot, which also betrayed him. And they went into an house. And the multitude cometh together again, so that they could not so much as eat bread. And when his friends heard of it, they went out to lay hold on him: for they said: "He is beside himself." And the scribes which came down from Jerusalem said: "He hath Beelzebub, and by the prince of the devils casteth he out devils." And he called them unto him, and said unto them in parables: "How can Satan cast out Satan? And if a kingdom be divided against itself, that kingdom cannot stand. And if a house be divided against itself, that house cannot stand. And if Satan rise up against himself, and be divided, he cannot stand, but hath an end. No man can enter into a strong man's house, and spoil his goods, except he will first bind the strong man; and then he will spoil his house. Verily I say unto you. All sins shall be forgiven unto the sons of men, and blasphemies wherewith soever they shall blaspheme: but he that shall blaspheme against the Holy Ghost hath never forgiveness, but is in danger of eternal damnation." Because they said, "He hath an unclean spirit." There came then his brethren and his mother, and, standing without, sent unto him, calling him. And the multitude sat about him, and they said unto him: "Behold, thy mother and thy brethren without seek for thee." And he answered them, saying: "Who is my mother, or my brethren?" And he looked round about on them which sat about him, and said: "Behold my mother and my brethren! For whosoever shall do the will of God, the same is my brother, and my sister, and mother." CHAPTER IV THE WISDOM OF THE AGES And he began again to teach by the sea side: and there was gathered unto him a great multitude, so that he entered into a ship, and sat in the sea; and the whole multitude was by the sea on the land. And he taught them many things by parables, and said unto them in his doctrine: "Hearken; Behold, there went out a sower to sow: and it came to pass, as he sowed, some fell by the way side, and the fowls of the air came and devoured it up. And some fell on stony ground, where it had not much earth; and immediately it sprang up, because it had no depth of earth: but when the sun was up, it was scorched; and because it had no root, it withered away. And some fell among thorns, and the thorns grew up, and choked it, and it yielded no fruit. And other fell on good ground, and did yield fruit that sprang up and increased; and brought forth, some thirty, and some sixty, and some an hundred." And he said unto them: "He that hath ears to hear, let him hear." And when he was alone, they that were about him with the twelve asked of him the parable. And he said unto them: "Unto you it is given to know the mystery of the kingdom of God: but unto them that are without, all these things are done in parables: that seeing they may see, and not perceive; and hearing they may hear, and not understand; lest at any time they should be converted, and their sins should be forgiven them." And he said unto them: "Know ye not this parable? And how then will ye know all parables? The sower soweth the word. And these are they by the way side, where the word is sown; but when they have heard, Satan cometh immediately, and taketh away the word that was sown in their hearts. And these are they likewise which are sown on stony ground; who, when they have heard the word, immediately receive it with gladness; and have no root in themselves, and so endure but for a time: afterward, when affliction or persecution ariseth for the word's sake, immediately they are offended. And these are they which are sown among thorns; such as hear the word, and the cares of this world, and the deceitfulness of riches, and the lusts of other things entering in, choke the word, and it becometh unfruitful. And these are they which are sown on good ground; such as hear the word, and receive it, and bring forth fruit, some thirtyfold, some sixty, and some an hundred." And he said unto them: "Is a candle brought to be put under a bushel, or under a bed? and not to be set on a candlestick? For there is nothing hid, which shall not be manifested; neither was anything kept secret, but that it should come abroad. If any man have ears to hear, let him hear." And he said unto them: "Take heed what ye hear: with what measure ye mete, it shall be measured to you; and unto you that hear shall more be given. For he that hath, to him shall be given: and he that hath not, from him shall be taken even that which he hath." And he said: "So is the kingdom of God, as if a man should cast seed into the ground; and should sleep, and rise night and day, and the seed should spring and grow up, he knoweth not how. For the earth bringeth forth fruit of herself; first the blade, then the ear, after that the full corn in the ear. But when the fruit is brought forth, immediately he putteth in the sickle, because the harvest is come." And he said: "Whereunto shall we liken the kingdom of God? or with what comparison shall we compare it? It is like a grain of mustard seed, which, when it is sown in the earth, is less than all the seeds that be in the earth: but when it is sown, it groweth up, and becometh greater than all herbs, and shooteth out great branches; so that the fowls of the air may lodge under the shadow of it." And with many such parables spake he the word unto them, as they were able to hear it. But without a parable spake he not unto them: and when they were alone, he expounded all things to his disciples. And the same day, when the even was come, he saith unto them: "Let us pass over unto the other side." And when they had sent away the multitude, they took him even as he was in the ship. And there were also with him other little ships. And there arose a great storm of wind, and the waves beat into the ship, so that it was now full. And he was in the hinder part of the ship, asleep on a pillow; and they awake him, and say unto him: "Master, carest thou not that we perish?" And he arose, and rebuked the wind, and said unto the sea: "Peace, be still." And the wind ceased, and there was a great calm. And he said unto them: "Why are ye so fearful? How is it that ye have no faith?" And they feared exceedingly, and said one to another: "What manner of man is this, that even the wind and the sea obey him?" CHAPTER V LORD OF LIFE AND LOVE And they came over unto the other side of the sea, into the country of the Gadarenes. And when he was come out of the ship, immediately there met him out of the tombs a man with an unclean spirit, who had his dwelling among the tombs; and no man could bind him, no, not with chains: because that he had been often bound with fetters and chains, and the chains had been plucked asunder by him, and the fetters broken in pieces: neither could any man tame him. And always, night and day, he was in the mountains, and in the tombs, crying, and cutting himself with stones. But when he saw Jesus afar off, he ran and worshipped him, and cried with a loud voice, and said: "What have I to do with thee, Jesus, thou Son of the most high God? I adjure thee by God, that thou torment me not." For he said unto him: "Come out of the man, thou unclean spirit," And he asked him: "What is thy name?" And he answered, saying: "My name is Legion: for we are many." And he besought him much that he would not send them away out of the country. Now there was there nigh unto the mountains a great herd of swine feeding. And all the devils besought him, saying: "Send us into the swine, that we may enter into them." And forthwith Jesus gave them leave. And the unclean spirits went out, and entered into the swine: and the herd ran violently down a steep place into the sea, (they were about two thousand;) and were choked in the sea. And they that fed the swine fled, and told it in the city, and in the country. And they went out to see what it was that was done. And they come to Jesus, and see him that was possessed with the devil, and had the legion, sitting, and clothed, and in his right mind: and they were afraid. And they that saw it told them how it befell to him that was possessed with the devil, and also concerning the swine. And they began to pray him to depart out of their coasts. And when he was come into the ship, he that had been possessed with the devil prayed him that he might be with him. Howbeit Jesus suffered him not, but saith unto him: "Go home to thy friends, and tell them how great things the Lord hath done for thee, and hath had compassion on thee." And he departed, and began to publish in Decapolis how great things Jesus had done for him: and all men did marvel. And when Jesus was passed over again by ship unto the other side, much people gathered unto him: and he was nigh unto the sea. And, behold, there cometh one of the rulers of the synagogue, Jairus by name; and when he saw him, he fell at his feet, and besought him greatly, saying: "My little daughter lieth at the point of death: I pray thee, come and lay thy hands on her, that she may be healed; and she shall live." And Jesus went with him; and much people followed him, and thronged him. And a certain woman, which had an issue of blood twelve years, and had suffered many things of many physicians, and had spent all that she had, and was nothing bettered, but rather grew worse, when she had heard of Jesus, came in the press behind, and touched his garment. For she said: "If I may touch but his clothes, I shall be whole." And straightway the fountain of her blood was dried up; and she felt in her body that she was healed of that plague. And Jesus, immediately knowing in himself that virtue had gone out of him, turned him about in the press, and said: "Who touched my clothes?" And his disciples said unto him: "Thou seest the multitude thronging thee, and sayest thou, 'Who touched me?'" And he looked round about to see her that had done this thing. But the woman fearing and trembling, knowing what was done in her, came and fell down before him, and told him all the truth. And he said unto her: "Daughter, thy faith hath made thee whole; go in peace, and be whole of thy plague." While he yet spake, there came from the ruler of the synagogue's house certain which said: "Thy daughter is dead: why troublest thou the Master any further?" As soon as Jesus heard the word that was spoken, he saith unto the ruler of the synagogue: "Be not afraid, only believe." And he suffered no man to follow him, save Peter, and James, and John the brother of James. And he cometh to the house of the ruler of the synagogue, and seeth the tumult, and them that wept and wailed greatly. And when he was come in, he saith unto them: "Why make ye this ado, and weep? The damsel is not dead, but sleepeth." And they laughed him to scorn. But when he had put them all out, he taketh the father and the mother of the damsel, and them that were with him, and entereth in where the damsel was lying. And he took the damsel by the hand, and said unto her: "_Talitha cumi_;" which is, being interpreted, "Damsel, I say unto thee, arise." And straightway the damsel arose, and walked; for she was of the age of twelve years. And they were astonished with a great astonishment. And he charged them straitly that no man should know it; and commanded that something should be given her to eat. CHAPTER VI IS NOT HE THE CARPENTER? And he went out from thence, and came into his own country; and his disciples follow him. And when the sabbath day was come, he began to teach in the synagogue: and many hearing him were astonished, saying: "From whence hath this man these things and what wisdom is this which is given unto him, that even such mighty works are wrought by his hands? Is not this the carpenter, the son of Mary, the brother of James, and Joses, and of Juda, and Simon? And are not his sisters here with us?" And they were offended at him. But Jesus said unto them: "A prophet is not without honour, but in his own country, and among his own kin, and in his own house." And he could there do no mighty work, save that he laid his hands upon a few sick folk, and healed them. And he marvelled because of their unbelief. And he went round about the villages, teaching. And he called unto him the twelve, and began to send them forth by two and two; and gave them power over unclean spirits; and commanded them that they should take nothing for their journey, save a staff only; no scrip, no bread, no money in their purse: but be shod with sandals; and not put on two coats. And he said unto them: "In what place soever ye enter into an house, there abide till ye depart from that place. And whosoever shall not receive you, nor hear you, when ye depart thence, shake off the dust under your feet for a testimony against them. Verily I say unto you, It shall be more tolerable for Sodom and Gomorrha in the day of judgment, than for that city." And they went out, and preached that men should repent. And they cast out many devils, and anointed with oil many that were sick, and healed them. And king Herod heard of him; (for his name was spread abroad;) and he said: "That John the Baptist was risen from the dead, and therefore mighty works do shew forth themselves in him." Others said: "That it is Elias." And others said: "That it is a prophet, or as one of the prophets." But when Herod heard thereof, he said: "It is John, whom I beheaded: he is risen from the dead." For Herod himself had sent forth and laid hold upon John, and bound him in prison for Herodias' sake, his brother Philip's wife: for he had married her. For John had said unto Herod: "It is not lawful for thee to have thy brother's wife." Therefore Herodias had a quarrel against him, and would have killed him; but she could not: for Herod feared John, knowing that he was a just man and an holy, and observed him; and when he heard him, he did many things, and heard him gladly. And when a convenient day was come that Herod on his birthday made a supper to his lords, high captains, and chief estates of Galilee; and when the daughter of the said Herodias came in, and danced, and pleased Herod and them that sat with him, the king said unto the damsel: "Ask of me whatsoever thou wilt and I will give it thee." And he sware unto her, "Whatsoever thou shalt ask of me, I will give it thee, unto the half of my kingdom." And she went forth, and said unto her mother, "What shall I ask?" And she said, "The head of John the Baptist." And she came in straightway with haste unto the king, and asked, saying, "I will that thou give me by and by in a charger the head of John the Baptist." And the king was exceeding sorry; yet for his oath's sake, and for their sakes which sat with him, he would not reject her. And immediately the king sent an executioner, and commanded his head to be brought: and he went and beheaded him in the prison, and brought his head in a charger, and gave it to the damsel: and the damsel gave it to her mother. And when his disciples heard of it, they came and took up his corpse, and laid it in a tomb. And the apostles gathered themselves together unto Jesus, and told him all things, both what they had done, and what they had taught. And he said unto them: "Come ye yourselves apart into a desert place, and rest awhile." For there were many coming and going, and they had no leisure so much as to eat. And they departed into a desert place by ship privately. And the people saw them departing, and many knew him, and ran afoot thither out of all cities, and outwent them, and came together unto him. And Jesus, when he came out, saw much people, and was moved with compassion toward them, because they were as sheep not having a shepherd: and he began to teach them many things. And when the day was now far spent, his disciples came unto him, and said: "This is a desert place, and now the time is far passed: send them away, that they may go into the country round about, and into the villages, and buy themselves bread: for they have nothing to eat." He answered and said unto them: "Give ye them to eat." And they say unto him: "Shall we go and buy two hundred pennyworth of bread, and give them to eat?" He saith unto them: "How many loaves have ye? Go and see." And when they know, they say, "Five, and two fishes." And he commanded them to make all sit down by companies upon the green grass. And they sat down in ranks, by hundreds, and by fifties. And when he had taken the five loaves and the two fishes, he looked up to heaven, and blessed, and brake the loaves, and gave them to his disciples to set before them; and the two fishes divided he among them all. And they did all eat, and were filled. And they took up twelve baskets full of the fragments, and of the fishes. And they that did eat of the loaves were about five thousand men. And straightway he constrained his disciples to get into the ship, and to go to the other side before unto Bethsaida, while he sent away the people. And when he had sent them away, he departed into a mountain to pray. And when even was come, the ship was in the midst of the sea, and he alone on the land. And he saw them toiling in rowing; for the wind was contrary unto them: and about the fourth watch of the night he cometh unto them, walking upon the sea, and would have passed by them. But when they saw him walking upon the sea, they supposed it had been a spirit, and cried out: for they all saw him, and were troubled. And immediately he talked with them, and saith unto them: "Be of good cheer: it is I; be not afraid." And he went up unto them into the ship; and the wind ceased: and they were sore amazed in themselves beyond measure, and wondered. For they considered not the miracle of the loaves: for their heart was hardened. And when they had passed over, they came into the land of Gennesaret, and drew to the shore. And when they were come out of the ship, straightway they knew him, and ran through that whole region round about, and began to carry about in beds those that were sick, where they heard he was. And whithersoever he entered, into villages, or cities, or country, they laid the sick in the streets, and besought him that they might touch if it were but the border of his garment: and as many as touched him were made whole. CHAPTER VII NEVER A MAN LIKE HIM Then came together unto him the Pharisees, and certain of the scribes, which came from Jerusalem. And when they saw some of his disciples eat bread with defiled, that is to say, with unwashen, hands, they found fault. (For the Pharisees, and all the Jews, except they wash their hands oft, eat not, holding the tradition of the elders. And when they come from the market, except they wash, they eat not, and many other things there be, which they have received to hold, as the washing of cups, and pots, brasen vessels, and of tables.) Then the Pharisees and scribes asked him: "Why walk not thy disciples according to the tradition of the elders, but eat bread with unwashen hands?" He answered and said unto them: "Well hath Esaias prophesied of you hypocrites, as it is written, 'This people honoureth me with their lips, but their heart is far from me. Howbeit in vain do they worship me, teaching for doctrines the commandments of men.' For laying aside the commandment of God, ye hold the tradition of men, as the washing of pots and cups; and many other such like things ye do." And he said unto them: "Full well ye reject the commandment of God, that ye may keep your own tradition. For Moses said: 'Honour thy father and thy mother'; and, 'Whoso curseth father or mother, let him die the death:' but ye say, 'If a man shall say to his father or mother, "It is Corban," (that is to say, a gift,) by whatsoever thou mightest be profited by me; he shall be free.' And ye suffer him no more to do ought for his father or his mother; making the word of God of none effect through your tradition, which ye have delivered: and many such like things do ye." And when he had called all the people unto him, he said unto them: "Hearken unto me every one of you, and understand: there is nothing from without a man, that entering into him can defile him: but the things which come out of him, those are they that defile the man. If any man have ears to hear, let him hear." And when he was entered into the house from the people, his disciples asked him concerning the parable. And he saith unto them: "Are ye so without understanding also? Do ye not perceive, that whatsoever thing from without entereth into the man, it cannot defile him; because it entereth not into his heart, but into the belly, and goeth out into the draught, purging all meats?" And he said, "That which cometh out of the man, that defileth the man. For from within, out of the heart of men, proceed evil thoughts, adulteries, fornications, murders, thefts, covetousness, wickedness, deceit, lasciviousness, an evil eye, blasphemy, pride, foolishness: all these evil things come from within, and defile the man." And from thence he arose, and went into the borders of Tyre and Sidon, and entered into an house, and would have no man know it: but he could not be hid. For a certain woman, whose young daughter had an unclean spirit, heard of him, and came and fell at his feet: the woman was a Greek, a Syrophenician by nation; and she besought him that he would cast forth the devil out of her daughter. But Jesus said unto her: "Let the children first be filled: for it is not meet to take the children's bread, and to cast it unto the dogs." And she answered and said unto him: "Yes, Lord: yet the dogs under the table eat of the children's crumbs." And he said unto her, "For this saying go thy way; the devil is gone out of thy daughter." And when she was come to her house, she found the devil gone out, and her daughter laid upon the bed. And again, departing from the coasts of Tyre and Sidon, he came unto the sea of Galilee, through the midst of the coasts of Decapolis. And they bring unto him one that was deaf, and had an impediment in his speech; and they beseech him to put his hand upon him. And he took him aside from the multitude, and put his fingers into his ears, and he spit, and touched his tongue; and looking up to heaven, he sighed, and saith unto him, "Ephphatha," that is, "Be opened." And straightway his ears were opened, and the string of his tongue was loosed, and he spake plain. And he charged them that they should tell no man: but the more he charged them, so much the more a great deal they published it; and were beyond measure astonished, saying: "He hath done all things well: he maketh both the deaf to hear, and the dumb to speak." CHAPTER VIII "THOU ART THE CHRIST" In those days the multitude being very great, and having nothing to eat, Jesus called his disciples unto him, and saith unto them: "I have compassion on the multitude, because they have now been with me three days, and have nothing to eat: and if I send them away fasting to their own houses, they will faint by the way: for divers of them came from far." And his disciples answered him: "From whence can a man satisfy these men with bread here in the wilderness?" And he asked them: "How many loaves have ye?" And they said: "Seven." And he commanded the people to sit down on the ground: and he took the seven loaves, and gave thanks, and brake, and gave to his disciples to set before them; and they did set them before the people. And they had a few small fishes: and he blessed, and commanded to set them also before them. So they did eat, and were filled: and they took up of the broken meat that was left seven baskets. And they that had eaten were about four thousand: and he sent them away. And straightway he entered into a ship with his disciples, and came into the parts of Dalmanutha. And the Pharisees came forth, and began to question with him, seeking of him a sign from heaven, tempting him. And he sighed deeply in his spirit, and saith: "Why doth this generation seek after a sign? Verily I say unto you. There shall no sign be given unto this generation." And he left them, and entering into the ship again departed to the other side. Now the disciples had forgotten to take bread, neither had they in the ship with them more than one loaf. And he charged them, saying: "Take heed, beware of the leaven of the Pharisees, and of the leaven of Herod." And they reasoned among themselves, saying, "It is because we have no bread." And when Jesus knew it, he saith unto them: "Why reason ye, because ye have no bread? Perceive ye not yet, neither understand? Have ye your heart yet hardened? Having eyes, see ye not, and having ears, hear ye not, and do ye not remember? When I brake the five loaves among five thousand, how many baskets full of fragments took ye up?" They say unto him, "Twelve." "And when the seven among four thousand, how many baskets full of fragments took ye up?" And they said, "Seven." And he said unto them, "How is it that ye do not understand?" And he cometh to Bethsaida; and they bring a blind man unto him, and besought him to touch him. And he took the blind man by the hand, and led him out of the town; and when he had spit on his eyes, and put his hands upon him, he asked him if he saw ought. And he looked up, and said: "I see men as trees, walking." After that he put his hands again upon his eyes, and made him look up: and he was restored, and saw every man clearly. And he sent him away to his house, saying: "Neither go into the town, nor tell it to any in the town." And Jesus went out, and his disciples, into the towns of Caesarea Philippi: and by the way he asked his disciples, saying unto them: "Whom do men say that I am?" And they answered, "John the Baptist: but some say, Elias; and others, One of the prophets." And he saith unto them, "But whom say ye that I am?" And Peter answereth and saith unto him, "Thou art the Christ." And he charged them that they should tell no man of him. And he began to teach them, that the Son of man must suffer many things, and be rejected of the elders, and of the chief priests, and scribes, and be killed, and after three days rise again. And he spake that saying openly. And Peter took him and began to rebuke him. But when he had turned about and looked on his disciples, he rebuked Peter, saying: "Get thee behind me, Satan: for thou savourest not the things that be of God, but the things that be of men." And when he had called the people unto him with his disciples also, he said unto them: "Whosoever will come after me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross, and follow me. For whosoever will save his life shall lose it; but whosoever shall lose his life for my sake and the gospel's, the same shall save it. For what shall it profit a man, if he shall gain the whole world, and lose his own soul? Or what shall a man give in exchange for his soul? Whosoever therefore shall be ashamed of me and of my words in this adulterous and sinful generation; of him also shall the Son of man be ashamed, when he cometh in the glory of his Father with the holy angels." And he said unto them: "Verily I say unto you. That there be some of them that stand here, which shall not taste of death, till they have seen the kingdom of God come with power." CHAPTER IX STRONG SON OF GOD And after six days, Jesus taketh with him Peter, and James, and John, and leadeth them up into an high mountain apart by themselves: and he was transfigured before them. And his raiment became shining, exceeding white as snow; so as no fuller on earth can white them. And there appeared unto them Elias with Moses: and they were talking with Jesus. And Peter answered and said to Jesus, "Master, it is good for us to be here: and let us make three tabernacles; one for thee, and one for Moses, and one for Elias." For he wist not what to say; for they were sore afraid. And there was a cloud that overshadowed them: and a voice came out of the cloud, saying: "This is my beloved Son: hear him." And suddenly, when they had looked round about, they saw no man any more, save Jesus only with themselves. And as they came down from the mountain, he charged them that they should tell no man what things they had seen, till the Son of man were risen from the dead. And they kept that saying with themselves, questioning one with another what the rising from the dead should mean. And they asked him, saying, "Why say the scribes that Elias must first come?" And he answered and told them, "Elias verily cometh first, and restoreth all things; and how it is written of the Son of man, that he must suffer many things, and be set at nought. But I say unto you, That Elias is indeed come, and they have done unto him whatsoever they listed, as it is written of him." And when he came to his disciples, he saw a great multitude about them, and the scribes questioning with them. And straightway all the people, when they beheld him, were greatly amazed, and running to him saluted him. And he asked the scribes, "What question ye with them?" And one of the multitude answered and said, "Master, I have brought unto thee my son, which hath a dumb spirit; and wheresoever he taketh him he teareth him: and he foameth, and gnasheth with his teeth, and pineth away: and I spake to thy disciples that they should cast him out; and they could not." He answereth him, and saith, "O faithless generation, how long shall I be with you? How long shall I suffer you? Bring him unto me." And they brought him unto him: and when he saw him, straightway the spirit tare him; and he fell on the ground, and wallowed foaming. And he asked his father, "How long is it ago since this came unto him?" And he said, "Of a child. And ofttimes it hath cast him into the fire, and into the waters, to destroy him: but if thou canst do any thing, have compassion on us, and help us." Jesus said unto him, "If thou canst believe, all things are possible to him that believeth." And straightway the father of the child cried out, and said with tears, "Lord, I believe; help thou mine unbelief." When Jesus saw that the people came running together, he rebuked the foul spirit, saying unto him: "Thou dumb and deaf spirit, I charge thee, come out of him, and enter no more into him." And the spirit cried, and rent him sore, and came out of him: and he was as one dead; insomuch that many said, "He is dead." But Jesus took him by the hand, and lifted him up; and he arose. And when he was come into the house, his disciples asked him privately: "Why could not we cast him out?" And he said unto them, "This kind can come forth by nothing, but by prayer and fasting." And they departed thence, and passed through Galilee; and he would not that any man should know it. For he taught his disciples, and said unto them: "The Son of man is delivered into the hands of men, and they shall kill him; and after that he is killed, he shall rise the third day." But they understood not that saying, and were afraid to ask him. And he came to Capernaum: and being in the house he asked them, "What was it that ye disputed among yourselves by the way?" But they held their peace: for by the way they had disputed among themselves, who should be the greatest. And he sat down, and called the twelve, and saith unto them: "If any man desire to be first, the same shall be last of all, and servant of all." And he took a child, and set him in the midst of them; and when he had taken him in his arms, he said unto them: "Whosoever shall receive one of such children in my name, receiveth me: and whosoever shall receive me, receiveth not me, but him that sent me." And John answered him, saying, "Master, we saw one casting out devils in thy name, and he followeth not us: and we forbade him, because he followeth not us." But Jesus said, "Forbid him not: for there is no man which shall do a miracle in my name, that can lightly speak evil of me. For he that is not against us is on our part. For whosoever shall give you a cup of water to drink in my name, because ye belong to Christ, verily I say unto you, he shall not lose his reward. And whosoever shall offend one of these little ones that believe in me, it is better for him that a millstone were hanged about his neck, and he were cast into the sea. And if thy hand offend thee, cut it off: it is better for thee to enter into life maimed, than having two hands to go into hell, into the fire that never shall be quenched: where their worm dieth not, and the fire is not quenched. And if thy foot offend thee, cut it off: it is better for thee to enter halt into life, than having two feet to be cast into hell, into the fire that never shall be quenched: where their worm dieth not, and the fire is not quenched. And if thine eye offend thee, pluck it out: it is better for thee to enter into the kingdom of God with one eye, than having two eyes to be cast into hell fire: where their worm dieth not, and the fire is not quenched. For every one shall be salted with fire, and every sacrifice shall be salted with salt. Salt is good: but if the salt have lost his saltness, wherewith will ye season it? Have salt in yourselves, and have peace one with another." CHAPTER X MASTER OF MEN BUT SERVANT OF ALL And he arose from thence, and cometh into the coasts of Judaea by the farther side of Jordan: and the people resort unto him again; and, as he was wont, he taught them again. And the Pharisees came to him, and asked him, "Is it lawful for a man to put away his wife?" tempting him. And he answered and said unto them: "What did Moses command you?" And they said, "Moses suffered to write a bill of divorcement, and to put her away." And Jesus answered and said unto them: "For the hardness of your heart he wrote you this precept. But from the beginning of the creation God made them male and female. For this cause shall a man leave his father and mother, and cleave to his wife; and they twain shall be one flesh: so then they are no more twain, but one flesh. What therefore God hath joined together, let not man put asunder." And in the house his disciples asked him again of the same matter. And he saith unto them: "Whosoever shall put away his wife, and marry another, committeth adultery against her. And if a woman shall put away her husband, and be married to another, she committeth adultery." And they brought young children to him, that he should touch them: and his disciples rebuked those that brought them. But when Jesus saw it, he was much displeased, and said unto them: "Suffer the little children to come unto me, and forbid them not: for of such is the kingdom of God. Verily I say unto you. Whosoever shall not receive the kingdom of God as a little child, he shall not enter therein." And he took them up in his arms, put his hands upon them, and blessed them. And when he was gone forth into the way, there came one running, and kneeled to him, and asked him, "Good Master, what shall I do that I may inherit eternal life?" And Jesus said unto him, "Why callest thou me good? There is none good but one, that is, God. Thou knowest the commandments, 'Do not commit adultery,' 'Do not kill,' 'Do not steal,' 'Do not bear false witness,' 'Defraud not,' 'Honour thy father and mother.'" And he answered and said unto him, "Master, all these have I observed from my youth." Then Jesus beholding him loved him, and said unto him, "One thing thou lackest: go thy way, sell whatsoever thou hast, and give to the poor, and thou shalt have treasure in heaven: and come, take up the cross, and follow me." And he was sad at that saying, and went away grieved: for he had great possessions. And Jesus looked round about, and saith unto his disciples: "How hardly shall they that have riches enter into the kingdom of God!" And the disciples were astonished at his words. But Jesus answereth again, and saith unto them: "Children, how hard is it for them that trust in riches to enter into the kingdom of God! It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle, than for a rich man to enter into the kingdom of God." And they were astonished out of measure, saying among themselves, "Who then can be saved?" And Jesus looking upon them saith, "With men it is impossible, but not with God: for with God all things are possible." Then Peter began to say unto him, "Lo, we have left all, and have followed thee." And Jesus answered and said: "Verily I say unto you. There is no man that hath left house, or brethren, or sisters, or father, or mother, or wife, or children, or lands, for my sake, and the gospel's, but he shall receive an hundredfold now in this time, houses, and brethren, and sisters, and mothers, and children, and lands, with persecutions; and in the world to come eternal life. But many that are first shall be last; and the last first." And they were in the way going up to Jerusalem; and Jesus went before them: and they were amazed; and as they followed, they were afraid. And he took again the twelve, and began to tell them what things should happen unto him, saying: "Behold, we go up to Jerusalem; and the Son of man shall be delivered unto the chief priests, and unto the scribes; and they shall condemn him to death, and shall deliver him to the Gentiles: and they shall mock him, and shall scourge him, and shall spit upon him, and shall kill him: and the third day he shall rise again." And James and John, the sons of Zebedee, come unto him, saying, "Master, we would that thou shouldest do for us whatsoever we shall desire." And he said unto them, "What would ye that I should do for you?" They said unto him, "Grant unto us that we may sit, one on thy right hand, and the other on thy left hand, in thy glory." But Jesus said unto them, "Ye know not what ye ask; can ye drink of the cup that I drink of, and be baptized with the baptism that I am baptized with?" And they said unto him, "We can." And Jesus said unto them, "Ye shall indeed drink of the cup that I drink of; and with the baptism that I am baptized withal shall ye be baptized: but to sit on my right hand and on my left hand is not mine to give; but it shall be given to them for whom it is prepared." And when the ten heard it, they began to be much displeased with James and John. But Jesus called them to him, and saith unto them: "Ye know that they which are accounted to rule over the Gentiles exercise lordship over them; and their great ones exercise authority upon them. But so shall it not be among you: but whosoever will be great among you, shall be your minister: and whosoever of you will be the chiefest, shall be servant of all. For even the Son of man came not to be ministered unto, but to minister, and to give his life a ransom for many." And they came to Jericho: and as he went out of Jericho with his disciples and a great number of people, blind Bartimaeus, the son of Timasus, sat by the highway side begging. And when he heard that it was Jesus of Nazareth, he began to cry out, and say, "Jesus, thou son of David, have mercy on me." And many charged him that he should hold his peace: but he cried the more a great deal, "Thou son of David, have mercy on me." And Jesus stood still, and commanded him to be called. And they call the blind man, saying unto him, "Be of good comfort, rise; he calleth thee." And he, casting away his garment, rose, and came to Jesus. And Jesus answered and said unto him, "What wilt thou that I should do unto thee?" The blind man said unto him, "Lord, that I might receive my sight." And Jesus said unto him, "Go thy way; thy faith hath made thee whole." And immediately he received his sight, and followed Jesus in the way. CHAPTER XI HE THAT COMETH IN THE NAME OF THE LORD And when they came nigh to Jerusalem, unto Bethphage and Bethany, at the mount of Olives, he sendeth forth two of his disciples, and saith unto them: "Go your way into the village over against you: and as soon as ye be entered into it, ye shall find a colt tied, whereon never man sat; loose him, and bring him. And if any man say unto you, 'Why do ye this?' say ye, 'The Lord hath need of him;' and straightway he will send him hither." And they went their way, and found the colt tied by the door without in a place where two ways met; and they loose him. And certain of them that stood there said unto them, "What do ye, loosing the colt?" And they said unto them even as Jesus had commanded: and they let them go. And they brought the colt to Jesus, and cast their garments on him; and he sat upon him. And many spread their garments in the way: and others cut down branches off the trees, and strawed [Transcriber's note: strewed?] them in the way. And they that went before and they that followed, cried, saying: "Hosanna; Blessed is he that cometh in the name of the Lord: blessed be the kingdom of our father David, that cometh in the name of the Lord: Hosanna in the highest." And Jesus entered into Jerusalem, and into the temple; and when he had looked round about upon all things, and now the eventide was come, he went out unto Bethany with the twelve. And on the morrow, when they were come from Bethany, he was hungry: and seeing a fig tree afar off having leaves, he came, if haply he might find any thing thereon: and when he came to it, he found nothing but leaves; for the time of figs was not yet. And Jesus answered and said unto it: "No man eat fruit of thee hereafter for ever." And his disciples heard it. And they come to Jerusalem: and Jesus went into the temple, and began to cast out them that sold and bought in the temple, and overthrew tables of the money changers, and the seats of them that sold doves; and would not suffer that any man should carry any vessel through the temple. And he taught, saying unto them: "Is it not written, 'My house shall be called of all nations the house of prayer?' but ye have made it a den of thieves." And the scribes and chief priests heard it, and sought how they might destroy him: for they feared him because all the people was astonished at his doctrine. And when even was come, he went out of the city. And in the morning, as they passed by, they saw the fig tree dried up from the roots. And Peter calling to remembrance saith unto him, "Master, behold, the fig tree which thou cursedst is withered away." And Jesus answering saith unto them, "Have faith in God. For verily I say unto you, that whosoever shall say unto this mountain, 'Be thou removed, and be thou cast into the sea;' and shall not doubt in his heart, but shall believe that those things which he saith shall come to pass; he shall have whatsoever he saith. Therefore I say unto you, what things soever ye desire, when ye pray, believe that ye receive them, and ye shall have them. And when ye stand praying, forgive, if ye have ought against any: that your Father also which is in heaven may forgive you your trespasses. But if ye do not forgive, neither will your Father which is in heaven forgive your trespasses." And they come again to Jerusalem: and as he was walking in the temple, there come to him the chief priests, and the scribes, and the elders, and say unto him: "By what authority doest thou these things and who gave thee this authority to do these things?" And Jesus answered and said unto them, "I will also ask of you one question, and answer me, and I will tell you by what authority I do these things. The baptism of John, was it from heaven, or of men? Answer me." And they reasoned with themselves, saying, "If we shall say, 'From heaven;' he will say, 'Why then did ye not believe him?' But if we shall say, 'Of men;' they feared the people: for all men counted John, that he was a prophet indeed." And they answered and said unto Jesus, "We cannot tell." And Jesus answering saith unto them, "Neither do I tell you by what authority I do these things." CHAPTER XII IN CONFLICT WITH SCRIBES AND PHARISEES And he began to speak unto them by parables. "A certain man planted a vineyard, and set an hedge about it, and digged a place for the winefat, and built a tower, and let it out to husbandmen, and went into a far country. And at the season he sent to the husbandmen a servant, that he might receive from the husbandman of the fruit of the vineyard. And they caught him, and beat him, and sent him away empty. And again he sent unto them another servant; and at him they cast stones, and wounded him in the head, and sent him away shamefully handled. And again he sent another; and him they killed, and many others; beating some, and killing some. Having yet therefore one son, his well beloved, he sent him also last unto them, saying, 'They will reverence my son.' But those husbandmen said among themselves, 'This is the heir; come, let us kill him, and the inheritance shall be ours.' And they took him, and killed him, and cast him out of the vineyard. What shall therefore the lord of the vineyard do? He will come and destroy the husbandmen, and will give the vineyard unto others. And have ye not read this scripture; 'The stone which the builders rejected is become the head of the corner: this was the Lord's doing, and it is marvellous in our eyes?'" And they sought to lay hold on him, but feared the people: for they knew that he had spoken the parable against them: and they left him, and went their way. And they send unto him certain of the Pharisees and of the Herodians, to catch him in his words. And when they were come, they say unto him: "Master, we know that thou art true, and carest for no man: for thou regardest not the person of men, but teachest the way of God in truth: is it lawful to give tribute to Caesar, or not? Shall we give, or shall we not give?" But he, knowing their hypocrisy, said unto them: "Why tempt ye me? Bring me a penny, that I may see it." And they brought it. And he saith unto them, "Whose is this image and superscription?" And they said unto him, "Caesar's." And Jesus answering said unto them: "Render to Caesar the things that are Caesar's, and to God the things that are God's." And they marvelled at him. Then come unto him the Sadducees, which say there is no resurrection; and they asked him, saying: "Master, Moses wrote unto us, 'If a man's brother die, and leave his wife behind him, and leave no children, that his brother should take his wife, and raise up seed unto his brother.' Now there were seven brethren: and the first took a wife, and dying left no seed. And the second took her, and died, neither left he any seed: and the third likewise. And the seven had her, and left no seed: last of all the woman died also. In the resurrection therefore, when they shall rise, whose wife shall she be of them, for the seven had her to wife?" And Jesus answering said unto them, "Do ye not therefore err, because ye know not the scriptures, neither the power of God? For when they shall rise from the dead, they neither marry, nor are given in marriage; but are as the angels which are in heaven. And as touching the dead, that they rise: have ye not read in the book of Moses, how in the bush God spake unto him, saying, 'I am the God of Abraham, and the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob?' He is not the God of the dead, but the God of the living: ye therefore do greatly err." And one of the scribes came, and having heard them reasoning together, and perceiving that he had answered them well, asked him, "Which is the first commandment of all?" And Jesus answered him, "The first of all the commandments is, 'Hear, O Israel; The Lord our God is one Lord:' and 'thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy mind, and with all thy strength:' this is the first commandment. "And the second is like, namely this, 'Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself.' There is none other commandment greater than these." And the scribe said unto him, "Well, Master, thou hast said the truth: for there is one God; and there is none other but he: and to love Him with all the heart, and with all the understanding, and with all the soul, and with all the strength, and to love his neighbour as himself, is more than all whole burnt offerings and sacrifices." And when Jesus saw that he answered discreetly, he said unto him, "Thou art not far from the kingdom of God." And no man after that durst ask him any question. And Jesus answered and said, while he taught in the temple: "How say the scribes that Christ is the son of David? For David himself said by the Holy Ghost, 'The Lord said to my Lord, "Sit thou on my right hand, till I make thine enemies thy footstool."' David therefore himself calleth him 'Lord'; and whence is he then his son?" And the common people heard him gladly. And he said unto them in his doctrine: "Beware of the scribes, which love to go in long clothing, and love salutations in the market places, and the chief seats in the synagogues, and the uppermost rooms at feasts: which devour widows' houses, and for a pretence make long prayers: these shall receive greater damnation." And Jesus sat over against the treasury, and beheld how the people cast money into the treasury: and many that were rich cast in much. And there came a certain poor widow, and she threw in two mites, which make a farthing. And he called unto him his disciples, and saith unto them: "Verily I say unto you, that this poor widow hath cast more in, than all they which have cast into the treasury: for all they did cast in of their abundance; but she of her want did cast in all that she had, even all her living." CHAPTER XIII JERUSALEM THAT KILLETH THE PROPHETS And as he went out of the temple, one of his disciples saith unto him, "Master, see what manner of stones and what buildings are here!" And Jesus answering said unto him, "Seest thou these great buildings? There shall not be left one stone upon another, that shall not be thrown down." And as he sat upon the mount of Olives over against the temple, Peter and James and John and Andrew asked him privately, "Tell us, when shall these things be, and what shall be the sign when all these things shall be fulfilled?" And Jesus answering them began to say: "Take heed lest any man deceive you: for many shall come in my name, saying, I am Christ; and shall deceive many. And when ye shall hear of wars and rumours of wars, be ye not troubled: for such things must needs be; but the end shall not be yet. For nation shall rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom: and there shall be earthquakes in divers places, and there shall be famines and troubles: these are the beginnings of sorrows. "But take heed to yourselves: for they shall deliver you up to councils; and in the synagogues ye shall be beaten: and ye shall be brought before rulers and kings for my sake, for a testimony against them. And the gospel must first be published among all nations. But when they shall lead you, and deliver you up, take no thought beforehand what ye shall speak, neither do ye premeditate: but whatsoever shall be given you in that hour, that speak ye: for it is not ye that speak, but the Holy Ghost. Now the brother shall betray the brother to death, and the father the son; and children shall rise up against their parents, and shall cause them to be put to death. And ye shall be hated of all men for my name's sake: but he that shall endure unto the end, the same shall be saved. "But when ye shall see the abomination of desolation, spoken of by Daniel the prophet, standing where it ought not, (let him that readeth understand,) then let them that be in Judaea flee to the mountains: and let him that is on the housetop not go down into the house, neither enter therein, to take any thing out of his house: and let him that is in the field not turn back again for to take up his garment. But woe to them that are with child, and to them that give suck in those days! And pray ye that your flight be not in the winter. For in those days shall be affliction, such as was not from the beginning of the creation which God created unto this time, neither shall be. And except that the Lord had shortened those days, no flesh should be saved: but for the elect's sake, whom he hath chosen, he hath shortened the days. And then if any man shall say to you, 'Lo, here is Christ;' or, 'lo, he is there;' believe him not: for false Christs and false prophets shall rise, and shall shew signs and wonders, to seduce, if it were possible, even the elect. But take ye heed: behold, I have foretold you all things. "But in those days, after that tribulation, the sun shall be darkened, and the moon shall not give her light, and the stars of heaven shall fall, and the powers that are in heaven shall be shaken. And then shall they see the Son of man coming in the clouds with great power and glory. And then shall he send his angels, and shall gather together his elect from the four winds, from the uttermost part of the earth to the uttermost part of heaven. "Now, learn a parable of the fig tree; when her branch is yet tender, and putteth forth leaves, ye know that summer is near: so ye in like manner, when ye shall see these things come to pass, know that it is nigh, even at the doors. Verily I say unto you, that this generation shall not pass, till all these things be done. Heaven and earth shall pass away: but my words shall not pass away. But of that day and that hour knoweth no man, no, not the angels which are in heaven, neither the Son, but the Father. Take ye heed, watch and pray: for ye know not when the time is. For the Son of man is as a man taking a far journey, who left his house, and gave authority to his servants, and to every man his work, and commanded the porter to watch. Watch ye therefore: for ye know not when the master of the house cometh, at even, or at midnight, or at the cock-crowing, or in the morning: lest coming suddenly he find you sleeping. And what I say unto you I say unto all, Watch." CHAPTER XIV DESPISED AND REJECTED BY FRIEND AND FOE After two days was the feast of the passover, and of unleavened bread: and the chief priests and the scribes sought how they might take him by craft, and put him to death. But they said, "Not on the feast day, lest there be an uproar of the people." And being in Bethany in the house of Simon the leper, as he sat at meat, there came a woman having an alabaster box of ointment of spikenard, very precious; and she brake the box, and poured it on his head. And there were some that had indignation within themselves, and said, "Why was this waste of the ointment made? For it might have been sold for more than three hundred pence, and have been given to the poor." And they murmured against her. And Jesus said, "Let her alone; why trouble ye her? She hath wrought a good work on me. For ye have the poor with you always, and whensoever ye will ye may do them good: but me ye have not always. She hath done what she could: she is come aforehand to anoint my body to the burying. Verily I say unto you, wheresoever this gospel shall be preached throughout the whole world, this also that she hath done shall be spoken of for a memorial of her." And Judas Iscariot, one of the twelve, went unto the chief priests, to betray him unto them. And when they heard it, they were glad, and promised to give him money. And he sought how he might conveniently betray him. And the first day of unleavened bread, when they killed the passover, his disciples said unto him, "Where wilt thou that we go and prepare that thou mayest eat the passover?" And he sendeth forth two of his disciples, and saith unto them: "Go ye into the city, and there shall meet you a man bearing a pitcher of water: follow him. And wheresoever he shall go in, say ye to the good man of the house, 'The Master saith, "Where is the guestchamber, where I shall eat the passover with my disciples?"' And he will shew you a large upper room furnished and prepared: there make ready for us." And his disciples went forth, and came into the city, and found as he had said unto them: and they made ready the passover. And in the evening he cometh with the twelve. And as they sat and did eat, Jesus said: "Verily I say unto you, one of you which eateth with me shall betray me." And they began to be sorrowful, and to say unto him one by one, "Is it I?" and another said, "Is it I?" And he answered and said unto them, "It is one of the twelve, that dippeth with me in the dish. The Son of man indeed goeth, as it is written of him; but woe to that man by whom the Son of man is betrayed! Good were it for that man if he had never been born." And as they did eat, Jesus took bread, and blessed, and brake it, and gave to them, and said: "Take, eat: this is my body." And he took the cup, and when he had given thanks, he gave it to them: and they all drank of it. And he said unto them: "This is my blood of the new testament, which is shed for many. Verily I say unto you, I will drink no more of the fruit of the vine, until that day that I drink it new in the kingdom of God." And when they had sung an hymn, they went out into the mount of Olives. And Jesus saith unto them, "All ye shall be offended because of me this night: for it is written, 'I will smite the shepherd, and the sheep shall be scattered.' But after that I am risen, I will go before you into Galilee." But Peter said unto him, "Although all shall be offended, yet will not I." And Jesus saith unto him, "Verily I say unto thee, that this day, even in this night, before the cock crow twice, thou shalt deny me thrice." But he spake the more vehemently, "If I should die with thee, I will not deny thee in any wise." Likewise also said they all. And they came to a place which was named Gethsemane: and he saith to his disciples, "Sit ye here, while I shall pray." And he taketh with him Peter and James and John, and began to be sore amazed, and to be very heavy; and saith unto them, "My soul is exceeding sorrowful unto death: tarry ye here, and watch." And he went forward a little, and fell on the ground, and prayed that if it were possible, the hour might pass from him. And he said: "Abba, Father, all things are possible unto thee; take away this cup from me: nevertheless not what I will, but what thou wilt." And he cometh, and findeth them sleeping, and saith unto Peter, "Simon, sleepest thou? Couldest not thou watch one hour? Watch ye and pray, lest ye enter into temptation. The spirit truly is ready, but the flesh is weak." And again he went away, and prayed, and spake the same words. And when he returned, he found them asleep again, (for their eyes were heavy,) neither wist they what to answer him. And he cometh the third time, and saith unto them: "Sleep on now, and take your rest: it is enough, the hour is come; behold, the Son of man is betrayed into the hands of sinners. Rise up, let us go; lo, he that betrayeth me is at hand." And immediately, while he yet spake, cometh Judas, one of the twelve, and with him a great multitude with swords and staves, from the chief priests and the scribes and the elders. And he that betrayed him had given them a token, saying, "Whomsoever I shall kiss, that same is he; take him, and lead him away safely." And as soon as he was come, he goeth straightway to him, and saith, "Master, master;" and kissed him. And they laid their hands on him, and took him. And one of them that stood by drew a sword, and smote a servant of the high priest, and cut off his ear. And Jesus answered and said unto them: "Are ye come out, as against a thief, with swords and with staves to take me? I was daily with you in the temple teaching, and ye took me not: but the scriptures must be fulfilled." And they all forsook him, and fled. And there followed him a certain young man, having a linen cloth cast about his naked body; and the young men laid hold on him: and he left the linen cloth, and fled from them naked. And they led Jesus away to the high priest: and with him were assembled all the chief priests and the elders and the scribes. And Peter followed him afar off, even into the palace of the high priest; and he sat with the servants, and warmed himself at the fire. And the chief priests and all the council sought for witness against Jesus to put him to death; and found none. For many bare false witness against him, but their witness agreed not together. And there arose certain, and bare false witness against him, saying: "We heard him say, 'I will destroy this temple that is made with hands, and within three days I will build another made without hands.'" But neither so did their witness agree together. And the high priest stood up in the midst, and asked Jesus, saying: "Answerest thou nothing? What is it which these witness against thee?" But he held his peace, and answered nothing. Again the high priest asked him, and said unto him: "Art thou the Christ, the Son of the Blessed?" And Jesus said, "I am: and ye shall see the Son of man sitting on the right hand of power, and coming in the clouds of heaven." Then the high priest rent his clothes, and saith, "What need we any further witnesses? Ye have heard the blasphemy: what think ye?" And they all condemned him to be guilty of death. And some began to spit on him, and to cover his face, and to buffet him, and to say unto him, "Prophesy:" and the servants did strike him with the palms of their hands. And as Peter was beneath in the palace, there cometh one of the maids of the high priest: and when she saw Peter warming himself, she looked upon him, and said, "And thou also wast with Jesus of Nazareth." But he denied, saying, "I know not, neither understand I what thou sayest." And he went out into the porch; and the cock crew. And a maid saw him again, and began to say to them that stood by, "This is one of them." And he denied it again. And a little after, they that stood by said again to Peter, "Surely thou art one of them: for thou art a Galilaean, and thy speech agreeth thereto." But he began to curse and to swear, saying, "I know not this man of whom ye speak." And the second time the cock crew. And Peter called to mind the word that Jesus said unto him, "Before the cock crow twice, thou shalt deny me thrice." And when he thought thereon, he wept. CHAPTER XV CRUCIFIED, DEAD AND BURIED And straightway in the morning the chief priests held a consultation with the elders and scribes and the whole council, and bound Jesus, and carried him away, and delivered him to Pilate. And Pilate asked him, "Art thou the King of the Jews?" And he answering said unto him, "Thou sayest it." And the chief priests accused him of many things: but he answered nothing. And Pilate asked him again, saying, "Answerest thou nothing? Behold how many things they witness against thee." But Jesus yet answered nothing; so that Pilate marvelled. Now at that feast he released unto them one prisoner, whomsoever they desired. And there was one named Barabbas, which lay bound with them that had made insurrection with him, who had committed murder in the insurrection. And the multitude crying aloud began to desire him to do as he had ever done unto them. But Pilate answered them, saying: "Will ye that I release unto you the King of the Jews?" For he knew that the chief priests had delivered him for envy. But the chief priests moved the people, that he should rather release Barabbas unto them. And Pilate answered and said again unto them: "What will ye then that I shall do unto him who ye call the King of the Jews?" And they cried out again, "Crucify him." Then Pilate said unto them, "Why, what evil hath he done?" And they cried out the more exceedingly, "Crucify him." And so Pilate, willing to content the people, released Barabbas unto them, and delivered Jesus, when he had scourged him, to be crucified. And the soldiers led him away into the hall, called Praetorium; and they call together the whole band. And they clothed him with purple, and platted a crown of thorns, and put it about his head, and began to salute him: "Hail, King of the Jews!" And they smote him on the head with a reed, and did spit upon him, and bowing their knees worshipped him. And when they had mocked him, they took off the purple from him, and put his own clothes on him, and led him out to crucify him. And they compel one Simon a Cyrenian, who passed by, coming out of the country, the father of Alexander and Rufus, to bear his cross. And they bring him unto the place Golgotha, which is, being interpreted, "The place of a skull." And they gave him to drink wine mingled with myrrh: but he received it not. And when they had crucified him, they parted his garments, casting lots upon them, what every man should take. And it was the third hour, and they crucified him. And the superscription of his accusation was written over: "THE KING OF THE JEWS." And with him they crucify two thieves; the one on his right hand, and the other on his left. And the scripture was fulfilled, which saith, "And he was numbered with the transgressors." And they that passed by railed on him, wagging their heads, and saying: "Ah, thou that destroyest the temple, and buildest it in three days, save thyself, and come down from the cross." Likewise also the chief priests mocking said among themselves with the scribes, "He saved others; himself he cannot save. Let Christ the King of Israel descend now from the cross, that we may see and believe." And they that were crucified with him reviled him. And when the sixth hour was come, there was darkness over the whole land until the ninth hour. And at the ninth hour, Jesus cried with a loud voice, saying: "Eloi, Eloi, lama sabachthani?" which is, being interpreted, "My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?" And some of them that stood by, when they heard it, said, "Behold, he calleth Elias." And one ran and filled a spunge full of vinegar, and put it on a reed, and gave him to drink, saying, "Let alone; let us see whether Elias will come to take him down." And Jesus cried with a loud voice, and gave up the ghost. And the veil of the temple was rent in twain from the top to the bottom. And when the centurion, which stood over against him, saw that he so cried out, and gave up the ghost, he said: "Truly this man was the Son of God." There were also women looking on afar off: among whom was Mary Magdalene, and Mary the mother of James the less and of Joses, and Salome; (who also, when he was in Galilee, followed him, and ministered unto him;) and many other women which came up with him unto Jerusalem. And now when the even was come, because it was the preparation, that is, the day before the sabbath, Joseph of Arimathaea, an honourable counsellor, which also waited for the kingdom of God, came, and went in boldly unto Pilate, and craved the body of Jesus. And Pilate marvelled if he were already dead: and calling unto him the centurion, he asked him whether he had been any while dead. And when he knew it of the centurion, he gave the body to Joseph. And he bought fine linen, and took him down, and wrapped him in the linen, and laid him in a sepulchre which was hewn out of a rock, and rolled a stone unto the door of the sepulchre. And Mary Magdalene and Mary the mother of Joses beheld where he was laid. CHAPTER XVI JESUS OF NAZARETH RISES FROM THE DEAD And when the sabbath was past, Mary Magdalene, and Mary the mother of James, and Salome, had bought sweet spices, that they might come and anoint him. And very early in the morning the first day of the week, they came unto the sepulchre at the rising of the sun. And they said among themselves: "Who shall roll us away the stone from the door of the sepulchre?" And when they looked, they saw that the stone was rolled away: for it was very great. And entering into the sepulchre, they saw a young man sitting on the right side, clothed in a long white garment; and they were affrighted. And he saith unto them: "Be not affrighted: Ye seek Jesus of Nazareth, which was crucified: he is risen; he is not here: behold the place where they laid him. But go your way, tell his disciples and Peter that he goeth before you into Galilee: there shall ye see him, as he said unto you." And they went out quickly, and fled from the sepulchre; for they trembled and were amazed: neither said they anything to any man; for they were afraid. Now when Jesus was risen early the first day of the week, he appeared first to Mary Magdalene, out of whom he had cast seven devils. And she went and told them that had been with him, as they mourned and wept. And they, when they had heard that he was alive, and had been seen of her, believed not. After that he appeared in another form unto two of them, as they walked, and went into the country. And they went and told it unto the residue: neither believed they them. Afterward he appeared unto the eleven as they sat at meat, and upbraided them with their unbelief and hardness of heart, because they believed not them which had seen him after he was risen. And he said unto them: "Go ye into all the world, and preach the gospel to every creature. He that believeth and is baptized shall be saved; but he that believeth not shall be damned. And these signs shall follow them that believe; in my name shall they cast out devils; they shall speak with new tongues; they shall take up serpents; and if they drink any deadly thing, it shall not hurt them; they shall lay hands on the sick, and they shall recover." So then after the Lord had spoken unto them, he was received up into heaven, and sat on the right hand of God. And they went forth, and preached every where, the Lord working with them, and confirming the word with signs following. Amen. 
18558	----	[Frontispiece: "I am the good shepherd. . ."] THE GOOD SHEPHERD A LIFE OF CHRIST FOR CHILDREN FLEMING H. REVELL COMPANY NEW YORK : : CHICAGO : : TORONTO Publishers of Evangelical Literature TABLE OF CONTENTS CHAPTER I. WHY JESUS CAME TO THIS WORLD II. JESUS IS BORN IN BETHLEHEM III. THE BOYHOOD OF JESUS IV. JOHN THE BAPTIST V. JESUS BEGINS HIS WORK VI. SOME WORDS AND WORKS OF JESUS VII. A FRIEND FOR THE SORROWFUL VIII. MORE WONDERFUL WORKS AND WORDS IX. THE MAN BORN BLIND, AND LAZARUS X. THE PRODIGAL SON, AND OTHER STORIES XI. THE LAST DAYS IN JERUSALEM XII. THE CRUCIFIXION AND THE RESURRECTION XX SELECTED SONGS, PSALMS, AND PRAYERS LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS "I am the good shepherd . . ." . . . . . . _Frontispiece_ Map of Palestine at the time of Christ The shepherd's care Bethlehem Nazareth, from hill above Jewish women grinding corn The River Jordan Jericho, from plains above A modern Jew's wedding party in Galilee Jacob's well Ruins of Capernaum The good Samaritan Bethany Child at prayer The shepherd's care (2nd version) The shepherd's care (3rd version) The Jordan near Bethabara Mount of Olives and Jerusalem Gethsemane Calvary The empty tomb The Sea of Galilee The Mount of Olives CHAPTER I WHY JESUS CAME TO THIS WORLD In the beginning, before the world was made, the Lord Jesus lived in heaven. He lived in that happy place with God. Then God made the world. He told the hills to come up out of the earth, and the seas to run down into the deep places which He had made for them. He made the grass, the trees, and all the pretty flowers. He put the sun, the moon, and the stars in the sky. He filled the water with swimming fish, the air with flying birds, and the dry land with walking and creeping animals. And then He said, 'Let _Us_ make man.' Who were meant by 'Us'? Who was with God when He made the world? It was Jesus. The Bible says: 'THE WORD (that means Jesus) WAS WITH GOD, AND THE WORD WAS GOD. THE SAME WAS IN THE BEGINNING WITH GOD. ALL THINGS WERE MADE BY HIM.' So after He had made everything else, God made a man, and named him Adam. God put Adam into the beautiful Garden of Eden, and at first he was good and very happy. God also made a woman, named Eve, to be his wife, and to help him to take care of the garden. All the fruit in the garden, except what grew on one tree, was given to Adam and Eve to eat; all the animals were their servants; and God was their Friend. A wicked angel, who had been turned out of heaven, saw how happy Adam and Eve were, and he was angry, and thought, 'I will make them as bad and unhappy as I am; I will make them do what God has told them not to do. Then he will turn them out of Eden, and they and their children will be my servants for ever, and I shall be king of the world.' So the wicked angel, whose name was Satan, came into Eden. He got Adam and Eve to take the fruit which God had told them not to eat, and God had to send them out of the beautiful garden; for God had said He would punish Adam and Eve if they took that fruit, and God always keeps His word. But God went on loving Adam and Eve even when He knew that He must punish them, and He tried to make them good in this way. He thought, 'I will send My dear Son down to the earth. He shall become a little child, and grow up to be a man, and shall die for the sins of the world.' Hundreds and hundreds of years passed away before Jesus came. But a great many of the people who lived in Palestine were expecting Him. God had said that when Jesus came, He would be a Jew. The Jews were very proud about that. They often talked about the coming of Jesus. When they talked about Him, they called Him the Messiah. Just before Jesus was born, the Jews were very unhappy. Roman soldiers had been fighting with them, and had conquered them, and made them servants of the great Roman king. He was called Augustus Caesar, and he gave the Jews another king called Herod. He was very wicked. [Illustration: Map of Palestine at the time of Christ.] The Jews longed to get rid of Herod, and many of them thought, 'It will be all right when the Messiah comes. The Messiah will fight against the Romans; He will drive them away from our land; and then He will be our King instead of that wicked Herod.' But only a few Jews remembered that Jesus was coming to fight against Satan and against sin. The place where the Jews lived had four or five names. It was called the Land of Canaan at the first, then the Land of Promise, and then the Land of Israel. But we call it the Holy Land, or Palestine. If you look at the map of Palestine, you will see a river running from the north of Palestine to the south. That river is called the Jordan. And Palestine is divided into four parts,--one at the top (we call that the north), one at the bottom (we call that the south), one in the middle, and one on the other or eastward side of the Jordan. The part in the North is called Galilee. The part in the south is called Judaea. The part in the middle is called Samaria. The part on the other side of the Jordan is called Perea. Palestine is full of hills, with great holes, called caves, in their sides. Palestine is not very big; England is about six times, and New York State about five times larger. Washington is called the capital of the United States. The capital of Palestine was Jerusalem. Jerusalem was a very beautiful city. It was built on four or five hills which were very close together. One of these hills was called Mount Moriah. On the top of Mount Moriah there was a great Temple where the Jews went to pray. Part of the Temple was called the Holy Place, the part at the very top of the mountain. It was splendid with its shining gold and white marble, but it was not very large, for the people were not allowed to go into it. When it was time for the Jews to go to the Temple, silver trumpets were blown once, twice, three times, and then the gates were thrown open, and the people crowded into the courts. CHAPTER II JESUS IS BORN IN BETHLEHEM Mary, the mother of Jesus, lived in the little town of Nazareth, among the hills of Galilee. She was going to be married to a carpenter called Joseph, who, like herself, lived in Nazareth. One day God sent the angel Gabriel to Mary with a message. Mary, when she saw and heard the angel, was a little frightened. But the angel told her he had some glad news for her. Jesus, the Son of God, the Messiah, was coming into the world very soon, and He was to come in the form of a baby, as Mary's little child. And Gabriel said that when He was born, Mary must call Him JESUS. Mary had a cousin named Elizabeth, who lived more than a hundred miles away from Nazareth, and Mary longed to talk with her about all these wonderful things. So she got ready for a long journey, and went off into the hill country of Judaea to see Elizabeth. And God had also promised to send Elizabeth a son. And soon after Mary's visit the baby was born, and all Elizabeth's friends were glad, and came to see her, and to thank God with her for His great kindness. The little Jew babies have a name given to them when they are eight days old. And Elizabeth's son was named John. One night, soon after Mary got back from her cousin Elizabeth's house, the angel of the Lord spoke to Joseph in a dream. The angel told Joseph to marry Mary, and he told him Mary's secret about the Son of God coming to earth as her little child, and he said to Joseph, 'THOU SHALT CALL HIS NAME JESUS, FOB HE SHALL SAVE HIS PEOPLE FROM THEIR SINS.' When Joseph woke up, his first thought was to do what the angel had told him, and he at once took Mary to his own home as his wife. About this time Caesar Augustus, the great Emperor at Rome, sent word to Herod that he was to take a census of the Jews. Everybody's name had to be written down and his age, and many other things about him. Every twenty years Augustus had a census taken, so that he might know how much money the Jews ought to pay him, and how many Jew soldiers he ought to have. In Palestine, at census time, people had to go to the towns where their fathers' fathers lived a long time ago, and had to have their names put down there instead of having them put down in their own homes. Now, both Joseph and Mary belonged to the family of the great king David, who was born in Bethlehem. So Mary had to prepare for a long journey, and go with her husband to Bethlehem. Bethlehem is six miles from Jerusalem. It is on the top of a hill, and people have to climb up a steep road to get into the town. An inn is a large house that people stay at when they are on a journey. The inns in Palestine have four walls, with a door in front, and with a great empty space for camels and horses inside. In the middle of the empty space is a fountain; and all round the walls, a little bit higher than the part where the animals are, there are a number of places like empty stone arbors. These empty places are called _leewans_, and they are open in front, so that everybody can see into them. Yet Mary and Joseph, after all their long journey from Nazareth, could not find even an empty _leewan_ to lie down in. [Illustration: The shepherd's care.] Near that inn there was a place in which asses and camels were kept. It was perhaps a cave in the side of the hill. And because there was no room for them in the inn, Mary and Joseph had to go into that stable to sleep, and in that stable Jesus Christ was born. Mary wrapped Him in swaddling clothes, and laid Him in the manger in the place where the animals' food was kept. On the hill where Bethlehem stands there are green places where shepherds feed their flocks. There are wild animals in Palestine; and all night long the shepherds of Bethlehem watched to see that no harm happened to their sheep. One night an angel of the Lord stood by them and a bright light shown round about them. The shepherds were afraid; but the angel said, 'FEAR NOT; FOR BEHOLD, I BRING YOU GOOD TIDINGS (OR NEWS) OF GREAT JOY, WHICH SHALL BE TO ALL PEOPLE. FOR UNTO YOU IS BORN THIS DAY IN THE CITY OF DAVID A SAVIOUR, WHICH is CHRIST THE LORD.' And suddenly there was seen with the angel a number of the angels of heaven. And they praised God, and said, 'GLORY TO GOD IN THE HIGHEST, AND ON EARTH PEACE, GOOD WILL TOWARD MEN.' When the light faded, and the song ended, and the angels had gone back into heaven, the shepherds climbed quickly over the hillside to Bethlehem. And there, in the stable near the inn, they found Mary and Joseph, and the Babe lying in the manger, as the angels had said. Jesus was the eldest son of His mother. And the eldest sons in Jewish houses, when they were forty days old, were taken to the Temple, and given to God. So now, when Jesus was nearly six weeks old, He was brought from Bethlehem by Mary and Joseph to the Temple at Jerusalem. The mothers used to take a lamb with them, or two pigeons, as a sacrifice to God. Mary took two pigeons. She was not rich enough to buy a lamb. A long way on the eastern side of the Jordan, there were countries where the people used to watch the sun and the moon and the stars very carefully. If they saw anything new and strange in the heavens, they thought it meant that something wonderful was going to happen. But some of them knew and had heard from the Jews about God, and about the Messiah who was coming; and they, like the Jews, were longing for Jesus. One day these wise men saw a bright star which they had never seen before. And as they looked at it they felt sure that a great King of the Jews had been born in Judaea. So they took camels and rich presents of gold and sweet-smelling stuff--such as people gave to kings in those days--and they loaded their camels, and left their homes, and rode for many weeks till they came to Jerusalem. And when they got there they said, 'Where is He that is born King of the Jews? for we have seen His star in the east, and are come to worship Him.' [Illustration: Bethlehem.] When Herod heard about these wise men he was troubled. He sent for the best priests, and other clever men, and asked them where Christ would be born. And they said to him, 'In Bethlehem of Judaea.' They had read that in the Bible. Then Herod said to the wise men, 'Go and search out carefully about the young Child; and when ye have found Him, bring me word, that I also may come and worship Him.' When the wise men had heard the king, they went away to Bethlehem, and lo, the star went before them, till it came and stood over where the young Child was. And they rejoiced with great joy. And when they were come into the house (there was room in the inn now) they saw the young Child with Mary, His mother, and they fell down and worshipped Him, and they gave Him their presents--gold, and frankincense, and myrrh. But the wise men did not go back to Herod. God told them in a dream not to go. So they went home by another way instead. After the wise men were gone, the angel of the Lord came to Joseph in his sleep, and said to him, 'Arise, and take the young Child and His mother, and flee into Egypt, and be thou there until I bring thee word: for Herod will seek the young Child to destroy Him.' That meant to kill Him. So Joseph at once got up, and took the young Child and His mother by night, and went away to Egypt. When Herod found that the wise men did not come back, he was very angry, and he sent his soldiers to Bethlehem, and had all the baby boys killed--all the children who were less than two years of age. And they killed all the baby boys in the places near Bethlehem as well. And the poor mothers cried, and nobody could comfort them. Joseph and Mary stayed in Egypt, waiting for the angel to bring them word that it was time to go back again to Palestine. And one night, when Jesus was about three years old, the message came. The angel of the Lord said to Joseph in a dream, 'Arise, and take the young Child and His mother, and go into the land of Israel: for they are dead which sought the young Child's life.' Joseph got up, and took the young Child and His mother, and went into the land of Israel. But when he came there, people said to him, 'Herod is dead, but his son Archelaus is king.' And when Joseph knew that Archelaus was king, he was afraid to stay in Judaea. And God spoke to him again in a dream, and told him to go back to Galilee. So Joseph and Mary went back to Galilee, and lived in Nazareth again. CHAPTER III THE BOYHOOD OF JESUS The Bible tells us only a few stories about the time when Jesus was a little boy. Nazareth is built up the side of a hill, and there are plenty of gardens and fields down below. Amongst these fields there is a fountain, where the women of Nazareth go to fetch water. Jesus must often have gone with His mother to that fountain; and sometimes, when she was tired, He may have fetched the water for her Himself. [Illustration: Nazareth, from hill above.] Mary wore a long blue dress, tied round the waist, and a cap with pieces of money sewn round it, and a white cloth over her head and shoulders, just as the women of Nazareth do now; and Jesus was very likely dressed in a red cap, a bright tunic, a sash of many colours, and a little jacket of white or blue, just as the boys of Nazareth are dressed now. The houses of Nazareth are white. Grape vines grow over their walls, and doves sit and coo on the flat roofs. There is not much inside the houses: sometimes they have only one room. There is a lamp in the middle of the room, and round the walls there are waterpots. There are bright-coloured quilts on a shelf. People unroll these quilts at night and lie down upon them. There are mats and carpets in the house, and a bright-coloured box with treasures in it, and a painted wooden stool; and that is nearly all. [Illustration: Jewish women grinding corn.] When the people of the house want to eat, they put a tray of food on the wooden stool, and they sit round the tray on the floor, and eat with their hands. People in Palestine would not know what to do with tables and chairs, and knives and forks, like ours. The streets of Nazareth are long and narrow, and they are full of chickens and dogs, of donkeys and camels, of blind beggars and children. There are little shops by the side of the streets, something like the _leewans_ in the inn which I told you about. But the tailors, the shoemakers, the carpenters, and the coffee-grinders do not always sit in their shops. They like to sit on the ground outside, and do their work in the street; and the sellers of dates and of figs, beans, barley, oranges, and other things, sit down in the street to sell their goods. Joseph, Mary's husband, was a carpenter, and Jesus became a carpenter, and often came out of the little shop and sat on the ground with plane, hammer, glue, and saw, and worked away in the narrow street, just as the carpenters of Nazareth do now. When the Jewish boys were twelve years old, they were called 'Sons of the Law,' and they were taken to Jerusalem for the Passover. When Jesus was twelve years old, Joseph and His mother took Him up with them to the Passover. When the week was over, Mary and Joseph started for the journey back to Nazareth. But Jesus stayed behind in Jerusalem. Thousands of people must have been leaving Jerusalem just at the very time that Mary and Joseph went away. So when Mary and Joseph did not see Jesus in the crush, they did not at first feel frightened. They thought, 'We shall find Him soon with some of our friends.' All day long they kept on looking for Him in the crowd, but they did not see Him. And at last they went back again to Jerusalem looking for Him. Next day they found Him in one of the courts of the Temple. Several Rabbis were there, and everyone who saw and heard Him was astonished. They asked Him questions too, and He answered them wisely and well. Nobody could understand how a young boy could be so wise. When Mary and Joseph saw Jesus sitting here, with Rabbis coming all around Him, they were greatly surprised. But His mother asked Him why He had stayed behind, and said, 'Thy father and I have sought Thee sorrowing.' Jesus said to His mother, 'HOW IS IT THAT YE HAVE SOUGHT ME? WIST YE NOT (DID YOU NOT KNOW) THAT I MUST BE ABOUT MY FATHER'S BUSINESS?' And now He went back with her and with Joseph to Nazareth, and obeyed them, exactly as He always had done. We do not know much more about Jesus when He was a boy. But we do know that as He grew taller, He 'increased in wisdom and stature, and in favour with God and man.' CHAPTER IV JOHN THE BAPTIST You remember about the child that was called John. Zacharias, his father, and Elisabeth gave John to God directly he was born. They never cut his hair, and they never let him drink wine, or eat grapes, or eat raisins. That was the way they did in those days to show that he belonged to God. When John was old enough to understand, he gave himself to God. And as he grew older, he made up his mind that he would leave his home and friends, and go and live in the wilderness; and his food there was locusts and wild honey. Locusts are like large grasshoppers, and poor people in the East often eat them. They taste like shrimps, but are not so nice. God had said that John should go before the Messiah to prepare the way for Him--to get people's hearts ready for the Saviour. And when John was in the wilderness, God told him to begin his work. So John went down from the wild hills of Judaea to the River Jordan, and he began to preach to everyone who passed by. There were many people passing by, for he went to the place where people crossed the Jordan. [Illustration: The River Jordan.] John said, REPENT!' (that means, 'Be really sorry for your sins'), 'FOR THE KINGDOM OF HEAVEN is AT HAND.' A very great many people went from Jerusalem, and out of all the land of Judaea, on purpose to hear John preaching. And when they had heard him, some of them said to him, 'What shall we do then?' And John told them that they were to be kind to one another; that they were to give food to the hungry and clothing to the naked. Some even of the proud Rabbis came down to the Jordan to John, and John told these Rabbis that they must not be proud because they were Jews, but must try to be good really and truly. A great many of the people who heard John preach felt sorry for the things they had done, and they told John how sorry they were, and John baptized them in the River Jordan. John told the people that he could only baptize their bodies with water, but that some one else was coming who would be able to baptize their hearts with the Holy Spirit. This was Jesus. [Illustration: Jericho, from plains above.] After John had baptized a great many persons, he saw coming to him, one day, for baptism, a Man about thirty years old; and when John looked at Him, he saw that He was quite different from all the people who had been to him before. It was Jesus who had come to be baptized before He began His work. He wanted to obey God in everything; and He wanted to show that He was the Brother and Friend of all the people whom John had been baptizing. And so, as Jesus wished it, John went into the River Jordan with Him and baptized Him. When Jesus had been baptized, and was full of the Holy Spirit, He went away into a wilderness. And there, when Jesus was tired and hungry, Satan came to Him--just as he came to Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden--to tempt Him. To tempt means to try. Mother tries you sometimes, to see whether you can be trusted; and God tries us all sometimes. But if God tries us, it is to make us better; and if Satan tries us, it is to make us worse. Every time that Jesus was tempted, He said, 'It is written,' and then He told Satan something 'which was written in the Bible. That is the very best way to fight Satan. The Bible is called 'the Sword of the Spirit,' and Satan is afraid when he sees us using that Sword. Let us ask God to fill us, like Jesus, with the Holy Spirit, and then we shall soon learn how to use the Sword of the Spirit, and we too shall be able to drive Satan away when he comes to tempt us. Only we must be sure to read the Bible, as Jesus used to do, or else we shall never be able to drive Satan away by telling him the things that God has written there. CHAPTER V JESUS BEGINS HIS WORK One day, when the fight of Jesus with the devil in the wilderness was over, He came to Bethabara, where John was baptizing, and when John saw Jesus coming towards him, he said: 'BEHOLD THE LAMB OF GOD, WHICH TAKETH AWAY THE SIN OF THE WORLD.' The next day John saw Jesus again, and again he said the same words: 'BEHOLD THE LAMB OF GOD!' John called Jesus the Lamb of God, because He had come to die for our sins. Two men were standing close to John when Jesus came by, and they heard what he said. The name of one of these men was Andrew, and of the other John. Jesus knew that they would like to speak to Him, so He turned round and asked them what they wanted. 'Master,' they said, 'where dwellest Thou?' (that means 'where are you living?') Jesus said, 'Come, and you shall see.' And He took the two disciples to His home, and He let them stay with Him the whole of the day. What a happy day that must have been! Andrew had a brother called Simon, and he went and found him, and told him that he had found the Messiah, and brought him to see his new Master. So now Jesus had three disciples--John, Andrew, and Simon; and next day He took them away with Him to Galilee. While they were going along, Jesus saw a man called Philip, who came from the place where Simon and Andrew lived when they were at home. Jesus told Philip to come with Him, and he came. But Philip went to a friend of his, a very good man called Nathanael, also called Bartholomew, and he told him that he had found Jesus of Nazareth, the Messiah, and begged him to come and see Him. How many disciples had Jesus now? Let us see. John, Andrew, Simon, Philip, and Nathanael--five. And very likely John had brought his brother James to Jesus. If so, that would make six. Directly Jesus came into Galilee He was invited to a wedding, at a place called Cana, and all of His disciples with Him. Jesus went to the wedding because He likes to see people happy, and loves to make them happy. In America, people often drink more wine at weddings and at other times than is good for them, and a great many people go without any wine at all, so as to set a good example. But in the East it is different. The people there hardly ever take too much wine. So Jesus allowed His disciples to use it, and He drank it Himself. There was some wine at the wedding party to which Jesus went; but presently it came to an end. Then Mary came to Jesus, and said, 'They have no wine.' Jesus knew what Mary was thinking about, but He had to tell her to wait; and He had to make Mary understand that He could not do everything now which she told Him to do, exactly as when He was a boy. He was God's Son as well as Mary's, and He had God's work to do, and He must do it at God's time. [Illustration: A modern Jew's wedding party in Galilee.] But when Mary went back, she told the servants to do whatever Jesus told them. Close to the house there were six great stone jars or waterpots, and Jesus said to the servants, 'Fill the waterpots with water. And they filled them up to the brim. And lo! when the water was taken out of the jars, it was water no longer, but wine. This was the very first miracle that Jesus did, and He did it to make people happy, and to make them believe that He was the Son of God. Dear children, Jesus wants you to be happy. And the best way to be happy is to ask Jesus to go with you everywhere and always, just as those wedding people asked Him to come to their party. He did not stay very many days in Capernaum. The lovely spring flowers told Him that the Passover time was coming, so He went up with His disciples, to Jerusalem. When Jesus had come to Jerusalem, you may be sure that His disciples and He soon went to the Temple, and when they got inside the great Court of the Gentiles they found a market was going on there. Men were selling oxen and sheep and doves for sacrifice. Others were sitting at little tables changing money. And there must have been plenty of noise, for people in the East shout and quarrel a great deal when they are buying or selling. When Jesus saw this, He was angry; and He made a whip with pieces of cord, and He drove away all the people who were selling in the Temple. And He turned out the sheep and the oxen; and he told the men who sold doves to take them away, and not turn His Father's House into a store. Jesus upset the tables of the money-changers too, and poured out their money. Jesus did a great many wonderful things when He was in Jerusalem that Passover time, and many persons saw His miracles, and thought, 'Yes, this is the Messiah.' But Jesus did not trust any of those people. He knew that they did not really love Him. But there was one man in Jerusalem who did want to be Jesus Christ's disciple. His name was Nicodemus. He was a great Rabbi, but not proud like the other Rabbis, and he wanted to ask Jesus a great many questions. But he did not want the other Rabbis and the priests to see him coming to Jesus. So he came to Jesus by night--in the dark. Did Jesus say, 'You are not brave, Nicodemus, I am ashamed of you; go away'? Ah no! He talked kindly to him, and He told him that he would have to be born again. He meant that Nicodemus must ask God to send him His Holy Spirit, and to give him a new heart. And then Jesus explained to Nicodemus why He had come down from heaven. He said: 'GOD SO LOVED THE WORLD, THAT HE GAVE HIS ONLY BEGOTTEN SON, THAT WHOSOEVER BELIEVETH IN HIM SHOULD NOT PERISH, BUT HAVE EVERLASTING LIFE.' CHAPTER VI SOME WORDS AND WORKS OF JESUS Jesus having to go to Galilee, made up His mind to pass through Samaria. It was a long, rough journey, and at last they came near a town called Sychar. Near by was the well dug by Jacob when he lived in Shechem. Jesus was so tired that He sat down to rest on the edge of the well, while His disciples went on to buy food. [Illustration: Jacob's well.] While Jesus was sitting by the well, a woman came there to draw water. Jesus asked her to do something kind for Him, He said 'Give Me to drink.' The woman was surprised, and said to Him, 'You are a Jew, and I am a Samaritan. Why then do you ask me for water?' Jesus said, 'IF YOU KNEW WHO I AM, YOU WOULD HAVE ASKED ME, AND I WOULD HAVE GIVEN YOU LIVING WATER.' Jesus meant the Holy Spirit. He gives the Holy Spirit to everyone who asks Him. Then Jesus spoke to the woman about the bad things she had done, and she tried to make Him talk about something else. But she could not stop His wonderful words. At last she said, 'I know that the Messiah is coming. He will tell us all things.' Then Jesus said to her, 'I THAT SPEAK UNTO THEE AM HE.' Just then His disciples came up to the well, and they were very much astonished to see Him talking to the woman. The Jew men were too proud to talk much to women, even if the women were Jews; and this was a Samaritan. But the disciples did not ask Jesus any questions about why He talked to the woman. They brought Him the things they had been buying, and said, 'Master, eat.' But Jesus was so happy that He had been able to speak good words to that poor woman that He did not feel hungry any more. He told His disciples that doing God's work was the food He liked best. After this Jesus lived for awhile first at Nazareth, and then at Capernaum. There was a boy ill in Capernaum just then with a fever. It is so hot near the Sea of Galilee that the people who live there often get fever. That sick boy's father was rich, but money could not make the dying boy well. His father had heard of Jesus, and when he knew that Jesus had come into Galilee, and that He was only a few miles away, he came to Him, and begged Him to come down to Capernaum and make his child well. At first Jesus said to him, 'You will not believe on Me unless you see Me do some wonderful thing.' But when He saw how eager the poor father was, He thought He would try him, and He said to him, 'Go thy way, thy son liveth.' Directly Jesus said that, the man felt sure in his heart that his boy was well. He did not ask Jesus any more to come with him, but he just went back home quietly by himself. Next day, as he was going down the long hilly road from Cana to Capernaum, some of the servants from his house came to meet him, and they said to him, 'Thy son liveth.' Then the father asked them what time it was when the boy began to get better, and said, 'Yesterday, at the seventh hour (that means at one o'clock) the fever left him.' Then the father knew that that was the very time when Jesus had said to him, 'Thy son liveth,' and he and all the people in the house believed in Jesus. The Jews could not bear paying taxes to the Romans, and they hated the publicans. They would not eat with them or talk with them. But Jesus did not hate the publicans. He only hated the wrong things they did. So one day, when He was outside the town of Capernaum, and saw Matthew sitting and taking the taxes, He said to him, 'Follow Me.' And Matthew got up from his work, and at once left all and followed Jesus. Jesus often told His disciples beautiful stories. One day He told them a story to teach them not to be proud like the Pharisees. 'Two men went up into the Temple to pray: the one a Pharisee, and the other a publican. The Pharisee stood and prayed thus with himself, God, I thank Thee that I am not as other men are; I thank Thee that I am not even as this publican. Twice a week I go without food, and I give away a great deal of money. But the publican, standing afar off, would not lift up so much as his eyes unto heaven, but smote upon his breast, saying, God be merciful to me, a sinner. When the publican went home that night he was better and happier than the Pharisee. The Pharisee _thought_ he was good; he did not want to be forgiven, and so God let him carry all his sins back home with him again. But the publican _knew_ he was a sinner, and was sorry, and so God forgave his sins.' While Jesus was in Capernaum, He went every Sabbath day to teach in the synagogue. One day a man shouted out-- 'What have we to do with Thee, Thou Jesus of Nazareth? I know Thee who Thou art, the Holy One of God.' Satan had put an unclean spirit, or devil, in that man. Jesus was not angry with the poor man, but He spoke to the unclean spirit, and said, 'Be silent, and come out of him.' He came out, and the man became well. The people in the synagogue were greatly surprised. They said, 'What thing is this? He commandeth even the unclean spirits and they obey Him.' When the service was over, the people who had seen the miracle went home, and talked to everybody about what they had seen. Some of them had sick friends, and some had friends with unclean spirits, and they longed to bring them to Jesus. But it was the Sabbath, and they would not bring them until the evening, at which time their Sabbath came to an end. So as soon as the sun set that Sabbath day, a great crowd was seen standing round Peter's house. It seemed as if all the people of Capernaum must be there! They had brought their sick friends, and laid them down at the door. And Jesus put His hands on the sick people, and healed them all. In the east there is a dreadful illness called leprosy, and the people who have it are called lepers. No doctor can cure it. At the time when Jesus lived on the earth, lepers were not allowed to come into cities. And they had to go about with nothing on their heads, and with their dresses torn, and with their mouths covered over; and when they saw anybody coming, they had to call out, 'Unclean! unclean!' One day when Jesus went into a town a leper saw Him. The poor man came to Jesus and knelt down before Him, and fell on his face. And he said, 'If Thou wilt, Thou canst make me clean.' And Jesus put out His hand, and touched him, and said to him, 'I will; be thou clean.' And as soon as Jesus had said that, the leper was well. Sin is just like leprosy. A baby's naughtiness does not look very bad; but that naughtiness spreads and gets stronger as baby gets older, and nobody but Jesus can take it away. Jesus Christ's body must often have felt very tired, for crowds followed Him about all the time. They came from Perea, and from Judaea, and from other places too, to see the wonderful new Teacher. And Jesus preached to them all, and healed their sicknesses. The most wonderful sermon that was ever preached in all the world is called the Sermon on the Mount, because Jesus sat down on a hill to preach it. After a time Jesus went up again to Jerusalem. In or near Jerusalem there was a spring of water which was as good as medicine, because it made sick people well if they bathed in it often enough. This spring ran into a bathing-place called the Pool of Bethesda. Numbers of sick persons came to bathe in that pool. One Sabbath day Jesus saw quite a crowd there. Some were blind, some were lame, some were sick of the palsy. They were sitting, or lying, by the side of the pool. Jesus was very sorry for one poor man there. He had been ill thirty-eight years. So Jesus said to the man, 'Arise, take up thy bed, and walk.' And at once the sick man was well, and took up his mattress and walked. Now the Rabbis had a number of very silly rules about the Sabbath day. Even if a man broke his arm or his leg on the Sabbath the Rabbis would not allow the doctor to put the bone right till the next day. So they were very angry when they found that Jesus had made that poor man well on the Sabbath day, and had told him to carry his mattress home. They told the man he was doing very wrong, and they tried to kill Jesus. But Jesus told them that His Heavenly Father was never idle, and that He must do the same works as God. That made the Rabbis more angry than ever. They said, 'He calls God His own Father, making Himself equal with God.' From that time the Jews in Jerusalem made up their minds more than ever to kill Jesus; and wherever He went they sent men to watch Him and listen to His words, so that they might make up some excuse for putting Him to death. What kind of work does God do on Sunday, dear children? Why, He does all sorts of kind and beautiful things. He makes the sun rise, and the flowers grow, and the birds sing; and He takes care of little children on Sunday exactly the same as he does on other days. And Jesus did the same kind of work, He made people happy and well on the Sabbath. And we may do _works of love_--kind, loving things for other people--on Sunday. Another Sabbath day, soon after that, the Lord Jesus and His disciples were walking through a cornfield. The disciples were hungry, so they rubbed some corn in their hands as they went along, and ate it. Some of the Pharisees saw the disciples, and they were shocked; and they spoke to Jesus about it. But Jesus told the Pharisees that the disciples were doing nothing wrong. He said, 'THE SABBATH WAS MADE FOR MAN, AND NOT MAN FOR THE SABBATH; THEREFORE THE SON OF MAN IS LORD ALSO OF THE SABBATH DAY.' Jesus meant that God gave the Sabbath day to Adam and his children as a beautiful present, to be the best and happiest day of all the seven. God meant it as a rest for our souls and bodies. CHAPTER VII A FRIEND FOR THE SORROWFUL One day Jesus went to a town called Nain (or Beautiful), about twenty-five miles from Capernaum. A great crowd of people followed Jesus and His disciples; and when they came near to the gate of the city of Nain, they saw a funeral coming out. The dead body of a young man was being carried out on a bier to be buried. When Jesus saw the poor mother crying and sobbing, He felt very sorry for her, and He said to her, 'Weep not.' And Jesus came and touched the bier, and the men who were carrying it stood still. And Jesus said, 'Young man, I say unto thee, Arise.' And life came back into that dead body again. He that was dead sat up and began to speak. And Jesus gave him back to his mother. A Pharisee, called Simon, once asked Jesus to come and have dinner with him. When anyone in that land went to a feast, the master of the house used to kiss him, and say, 'The Lord be with you,' and put some sweet smelling oil on his hair and beard, and the servants used to bring the visitor water to wash his feet. But none of those kind things were done to Jesus when He came to that Pharisee's house. Presently Jesus and Simon began to eat. In that country, people often _lay_ down to eat. Broad settees, or couches, were put round the table, and the visitors used to lie down in rows on these settees. Their heads were near the table, and their feet were the other way. They lay down on their left side, and they had cushions to put their elbows on, so that they could raise themselves up while they were eating. While Jesus and Simon were at dinner, a woman came in out of the street. In the East, people walk in and out of other people's houses just as they like. But that woman had been very wicked, and Simon was not pleased when he saw her come in. But nobody said anything to her. So she came to Jesus, and stood at His feet, behind the couch on which He w as lying, and cried till the tears ran down her face. Then as her tears dropped on to the feet of Jesus, she stooped down and wiped them away with her long hair. And then she kissed the feet of Jesus many times, and put precious sweet-smelling ointment upon them. Perhaps she had heard some beautiful words which Jesus had just been saying to the people out of doors-- 'COME UNTO ME, ALL YE THAT LABOUR AND ARE HEAVY LADEN, AND I WILL GIVE YOU BEST.' Her sins were like a heavy load, and so she had come to Jesus. But Simon thought to himself, 'If Jesus had really come from God, He would have known how wicked this woman is, and He would not have allowed her to touch Him.' Jesus knew what Simon was thinking, and He said that once upon a time there were two men who owed some money. One owed a great deal of money, and the other owed a little. But when the time came for them to pay the money they could not do it. And the kind man forgave them both. Jesus then asked Simon which of the two men would love that kind friend most. Simon said, 'I suppose he to whom he forgave most.' Jesus said that that was quite right. Then He turned to the woman, and said to Simon: 'Seest thou this woman? I came into thine house; thou gavest Me no water for My feet, but she has washed My feet with tears, and wiped them with the hairs of her head. Thou gavest Me no kiss, but this woman, since the time I came in, hath not ceased to kiss My feet: My head with oil thou didst not anoint, but she hath anointed My feet with ointment. I say unto thee, her sins, which are many, are forgiven, for she loved much; but to whom little is forgiven, the same loveth little.' And then Jesus said to the woman, 'THY SINS ARE FORGIVEN. THY FAITH HATH SAVED THEE. GO IN PEACE.' And she left her heavy load of sin with Jesus, and took away instead the rest and peace He gives. After Jesus had finished all the work He wanted to do in Nain, He went again into every part of Galilee to tell people the good news that a Saviour had come. Jesus preached to the crowds out of a boat. He told them most beautiful stories. They liked these stories so much that they did not care to go away--not even when it was evening. But Jesus and His disciples needed rest, so Jesus told the disciples to go over to the other side of the lake. When the boat started, Jesus was so tired that He lay down at the end, out of the way of the men who were rowing, and put His head upon a pillow, and fell fast asleep. Soon the wind began to blow, and it blew louder and louder. Then the waves curled over and dashed into the boat till the boat was nearly full. But still Jesus slept quietly on. The disciples were afraid that their boat would sink, and they came to Jesus, and woke Him, and said, 'Master! Master! we perish! Lord, save!' And Jesus arose, and told the wind to stop, and He said to the sea, 'Peace, be still.' And suddenly the wind stopped, and the sea was quite smooth. Then Jesus said gently to His disciples, 'Where is your faith?' Those disciples might have known that the boat could not sink when Jesus was in it. [Illustration: Ruins of Capernaum.] When Jesus came back to Capernaum, a man, called Jairus, fell down at His feet and begged Him to go to his house, where his little girl, about twelve years old, was dying. So Jesus and His disciples started to go to Jairus' house, and a great crowd of people went with Him. But while they were going, someone came to Jairus, and said, 'It is of no use to trouble the Master any more. The child is dead.' But Jesus said to him quickly, 'Do not be afraid. Only believe, and she shall be made well.' When Jesus came to the house of Jairus, He heard a great noise. As soon as anyone dies in the East, people come to the house, and cry and howl, and play wretched music. They are paid to do that. That was the noise which Jesus heard, and he asked, 'Why do you make this ado? The little maid is sleeping.' And those rude people laughed at Jesus, just as if He did not know what He was talking about. So Jesus turned them all out. Then Jesus took three of His disciples--Peter, and James and John--and Jairus and his wife; and they went together to look at the child. There she was, lying quite still. Life had flown away from her body. But Jesus took hold of the girl's hand, and said, 'My little lamb, I say unto thee, Arise.' And life flew back to her body again, and she opened her eyes and got up, and walked. And Jesus told her father and mother to give her something to eat. When Jesus came out of Jairus' house, two blind men followed Him, begging Him to make them well. Jesus waited till He had got back to the house where He was staying and then He touched their eyes, and made them see. Just about this time Jesus had some very sad news. Herod Antipas, the son of wicked King Herod, had shut up John the Baptist in a prison, called the Black Castle, by the side of the Dead Sea. Part of that castle was a beautiful palace, with lovely furniture and a coloured marble floor. One day Herod gave a grand birthday party. Herod had married a very wicked woman, who was at the party. Her name was Herodias. Herodias hated John the Baptist, because he had said that she ought not to be Herod's wife. So she made up her mind to have John the Baptist killed. Herodias had a daughter called Salome, who danced beautifully. And on that birthday Herod was so pleased with Salome's dancing that he said, 'I will give you anything you ask me for.' Salome went to her mother, and said, 'What shall I ask?' And Herodias said, 'Ask for the head of John the Baptist.' And Salome came back quickly and said, 'I want the head of John the Baptist.' Now, it is wrong to break a promise. But it is not wrong to break a _wicked_ promise. It is wrong ever to have made it. Herod was sorry, but he was afraid of what other people in the party would think if he did not do what he had said. So he sent his soldiers to the prison, and had John the Baptist's head cut off to give to that dancing-girl. Jesus had sent His twelve disciples out to preach to people He could not go and see Himself. When they came back they had a great deal to talk about, and they were very tired. But there were always so many people coming to see Jesus that they could get no quiet time at all, no time even to eat. They were all at the Lake of Galilee again, and Jesus told them to come away with Him into a desert place, and rest awhile. That desert place was near a town called Bethsaida, where Peter, and his brother Andrew, and Philip lived once upon a time. Jesus and His disciples got into a boat as quietly as they could, and went away. But some people near the lake caught sight of the boat, and they saw who was in it; and they ran so fast along the shore of the lake that they got to the desert before Jesus was there. Jesus felt very sorry for these people, and He began to teach them many things. By and by it got late, and Jesus said to the disciples, 'How many loaves have you? Go and see.' And Andrew said, 'There is a boy herewith five barley loaves and two fishes; but what are they among so many?' And Jesus told him to bring the loaves and fishes. Then Jesus said, 'Make the people sit down.' So the disciples arranged the crowds in rows on the grass. And when every one was ready, Jesus took the five loaves and the two fishes in His hands, and He blessed them, and divided them, and gave them to the disciples, and the disciples gave them to the people. And there was plenty for everybody. Jesus made those loaves and fishes last out till everybody had had enough. And then He said, 'Gather up the fragments (that means the little pieces) that are left, that nothing be lost.' And the disciples picked the little pieces up, and put them together in baskets. And there were twelve large baskets full--more than they had at first. There were five thousand men in that grassy place, and a great many women and children besides. And when the people saw the miracle that Jesus had done they said, 'THIS MUST BE THE MESSIAH;' and they wanted to make Him their king--the king of their country, but not the king of their hearts. Jesus did not wish to be made a king like Herod or Caesar. He was God, so He was King of kings already. He made His disciples go away at once in the boat to the other side of the lake, and He sent the crowds away Himself. When Jesus was alone, He went up into a mountain and prayed. But now a great wind began to blow, and the waves on the Sea of Galilee began to toss about. The disciples rowed hard, but they could not get on; the wind kept trying to blow them back. But Jesus saw them, and when the night was nearly over, He came to them walking on the sea. The disciples had never seen Him walking on the water before, and they could not understand who He was, and they cried out for fear. But Jesus was sorry for them, and He spoke kindly to them directly and said, 'BE OF GOOD CHEER (that means, 'Be glad'). IT IS I. BE NOT AFRAID.' And Peter said, 'Lord, if it be Thou, bid me come unto Thee on the water.' And Jesus said, 'Come.' And Peter jumped out of the boat, and walked on the water to go to Jesus. But soon Peter began to think of the rough wind and waves instead of thinking about Jesus, and then he could not get on at all, and he began to sink in the water, and called but, 'Lord, save me!' And Jesus put out His hand and caught him, and said, 'O thou of little faith, wherefore didst thou doubt?' Then they both came into the boat, and the wind stopped blowing. And the disciples fell down at the feet of Jesus, and said 'THOU ART THE SON OF GOD.' Then, all at once, they saw that their boat was close to the land. Jesus had brought it there. CHAPTER VIII MORE WONDERFUL WORKS AND WORDS And now Jesus went right away from the Sea of Galilee again to Caesarea Philippi. That place was called Caesarea after Augustus Caesar, Emperor of Rome, and Philippi after Herod Philip. When they were going to Caesarea Philippi, Jesus talked quietly to His disciples, and said, 'Whom do you say that I am?' Peter almost always spoke first, before the others had time to say anything, and he said quickly, 'THOU ART THE CHRIST, THE SON OF THE LIVING GOD.' Jesus was very much pleased with that answer. Then Jesus called the people who stood near, and His disciples too, and He told them that if they followed Him, they too might have to die for His sake. But He told them that they must not mind that, because heaven is better than this world. And He told them that if they were ashamed of Him, He should be ashamed of them before His Father and the holy angels. Dear children, I hope, when you go to school, or are with your little friends, that you will never be ashamed of Jesus. About a week after that talk with His disciples, Jesus took Peter, and James, and John into a high hill alone to pray. There is a splendid high mountain near Caesarea Philippi, called Hermon. All at once, as Jesus was praying, the disciples saw that His face shown like the sun, and His clothes were white and shining like the light. And as the disciples looked, they saw two men talking with Jesus, called Moses and Elijah, two holy men who went to heaven long, long ago. We do not know how long they talked. Peter, and James, and John were men, so they could not look very long at those heavenly visitors; soon their eyes closed, and they fell fast asleep. When they woke up, Moses and Elijah were still there, and when the disciples saw Jesus again, looking so bright and beautiful, they were very much afraid. When they came down from the mountain, they saw a crowd down below. Jesus had left nine of His disciples behind when He went up Mount Hermon; and now He saw a great number of persons all round them, and heard some Jews worrying them with questions. When Jesus came near enough to speak, He asked what was the matter. And a man came running to Him out of the crowd, and begged Him to look at his boy--his only child. And he said to Jesus, 'If Thou canst do anything, take pity on me, and help me.' And Jesus made the boy well from that very hour. The disciples had not had faith enough themselves to be able to do that sick boy any good. Every year the Jews had to pay half a shekel of money for the splendid Temple in Jerusalem; and when Jesus came back to Capernaum, the men who were collecting the money came to Peter, and said, 'Does not your Master pay the half-shekel?' And Peter said, 'Yes.' Now the Temple was God's house, and Jesus was God's Son. And Jesus explained to Peter when he came into the house that kings did not expect their own sons to pay them taxes. But it was not wrong to pay the half-shekel, and Jesus never vexed people if He could possibly help it, so He said to Peter, 'Go thou to the sea and cast a hook, and take up the fish that first cometh up, and when thou hast opened its mouth, thou shalt find a piece of money. That take, and give unto them for Me and thee.' And now, after a long time, Jesus and His disciples went up to Jerusalem again; and as they walked along, they saw ten lepers standing a long way off. As Jesus came near, they cried out, 'Jesus, Master, have mercy on us.' Nine of the lepers were Jews, and one was a Samaritan. And Jesus was sorry for them all, and said, 'Go, show yourselves to the priests.' So they turned straight round to go to the priests, and lo! as they were going along the road, they suddenly felt that they were strong and well again. When the Samaritan felt in himself that the leprosy had gone away, he turned back, and threw himself down at the feet of Jesus, and thanked Him, and thanked God too for all His goodness. But none of the nine Jews came back to thank Jesus. A few days after that a man came to Jesus, and asked how he could get to heaven. Jesus said that he must love God with all his heart, and his neighbor as himself. Then the man said, 'Who is my neighbor?' So Jesus told him this story, THE GOOD SAMARITAN: 'A certain man went down from Jerusalem to Jericho, and fell among thieves, which stripped him of his raiment, and wounded him, and departed, leaving him half dead. And by chance there came down a certain priest that way: and when he saw him, he passed by on the other side. And likewise a Levite, when he was at the place, came and looked on him, and passed by on the other side. But a certain Samaritan, as he journeyed, came where he was: and when he saw him, he had compassion on him. And went to him, and bound up his wounds, pouring in oil and wine, and set him on his own beast, and brought him to an inn, and took care of him. And on the morrow when he departed, he took out two pence, and gave them to the host, and said unto him, 'Take care of him: and whatsoever thou spendest more, when I come again, I will repay thee.' When Jesus had finished that story, He said, 'Which now of these three was neighbor unto him that fell among the thieves?' You can answer that question, and can go and do like that good Samaritan. [Illustration: The good Samaritan.] Just opposite the Temple hill, Mount Moriah, there was another hill, called the Mount of Olives. On the other side of the Mount of Olives was a village, called Bethany, and Jesus often walked over the hill to see some friends of His there, a brother and two sisters who lived in the village. Their names were Mary and Martha and Lazarus. Jesus loved them very much, and they loved Him. But Mary and Martha showed their love in very different ways. Mary sat as quiet and still as possible when Jesus came in, and listened to every word that He said; and Martha wanted so much to make Him happy and comfortable that she ran about the whole time doing things for Him, instead of listening to the beautiful words He was saying. [Illustration: Bethany.] Jesus likes you and me to work for Him; but He likes us to talk to Him in prayer too, and to listen to the things that He whispers in our hearts, and to the words that He says to us in the Bible. [Illustration: Child at prayer.] CHAPTER IX. THE MAN BORN BLIND, AND LAZARUS. One Sabbath day, most likely the next Sabbath day after the Feast of Tabernacles, Jesus saw a blind beggar out of doors. That poor man had always been blind. He had never been able to see at all. Jesus spat on the ground, and put the wet earth on the blind man's eyes, and said, 'Go, wash in the pool of Siloam.' And the man went and washed, and came back able to see. The people who met him began to ask him, 'How were thine eyes opened?' And the man told them. Then they wanted to know where Jesus was. But the man did not know that. Then the people brought him to the Pharisees to see what they would say. And the Pharisees said, 'How is it that you can see now?' And the man told them. Then the Pharisees turned him out of the synagogue. Jesus heard about that, and He came to the lonely man, and said, 'Dost thou believe on the Son of God?' And the man said, 'Who is He, Lord, that I might believe 'on Him?' And Jesus said to him, 'THOU HAST BOTH SEEN HIM, AND HE IT IS THAT TALKETH WITH THEE.' Then the man fell down at the feet of Jesus, saying, 'Lord, I believe.' And now Jesus turned to the Pharisees, and told them that _they_ were very blind. They could see things with their eyes, but they could not see that their hearts were full of sin. Then Jesus preached one of the most beautiful of all His sermons. In it He said, 'I am the Door of the sheep; by Me if any man enter in he shall be saved. I am the Good Shepherd; the Good Shepherd giveth His life for the sheep. I am the Good Shepherd, and know My sheep, and am known of Mine; and I lay down My life for the sheep, And other sheep I have which are not of this fold; them also I must bring, and they shall hear My voice, and there shall be one flock under one Shepherd.' [Illustration: The shepherd's care (2nd version).] The 'other sheep' Jesus spoke about meant the Gentiles, the people who are not Jews. It meant you and me, and it meant all the heathen. He has called us. He is calling the heathen. And many sheep, many quiet little lambs, have heard the voice of Jesus, and are following Him. Have you heard Him calling you? Have you followed Him? if not, oh, make haste to go after Him now. Soon after Jesus had gone away from Bethany, His friend Lazarus became very ill. Martha and Mary longed for Jesus now, and they thought, 'If Jesus were here, our brother would not die;' and they sent a messenger to Him to say 'Lord, he whom Thou lovest is sick.' When Jesus heard that, He stayed on quietly where He was for two days longer. Then He came to Bethany, and by this time Lazarus had been in the grave for four days. Presently somebody came to Martha, and said to her quietly, 'Jesus is coming.' When Martha heard that, she got up, and went out to meet Him. And when she saw Jesus, she said, 'Lord, if Thou hadst been here, my brother would not have died; but I know that even now whatever Thou wilt ask of God, God will give it Thee.' Jesus said to her, 'Thy brother shall rise again.' When Jesus saw how unhappy Mary and Martha were, He too felt very sad, and said, 'Where have ye laid him?' And they said, 'Lord, come and see.' And then----Jesus wept. 'See how He loved Lazarus,' said the Jews; and they wondered that Jesus had let His friend die. Now they had come to the grave. It was a hole in the side of a rock, and there was a heavy stone over it. Jesus said, 'Take ye away the stone;' and they rolled it away. Then Jesus lifted up His eyes, and thanked God that He had heard His prayer and given Him back the life of Lazarus. And then He cried with a loud voice, 'Lazarus, come forth.' And the man who had been dead came out of the cave alive. When the Jews saw what was done, some of them believed, but others hurried off to Jerusalem to make mischief as fast as they could. After a time Jesus crossed the Jordan and again came into Perea, and then He came slowly down through Perea to Jerusalem. [Illustration: The shepherd's care (3rd version).] CHAPTER X THE PRODIGAL SON, AND OTHER STORIES. One day, when the mothers of Perea brought their little ones to Jesus, the disciples found fault with them for coming, and tried to keep them away. But when Jesus saw what the disciples were doing He was much displeased, and said to them-- 'SUFFER LITTLE CHILDREN, AND FORBID THEM NOT, TO COME UNTO ME: FOR OF SUCH IS THE KINGDOM OF HEAVEN.' And He took them up in His arms, put His hands upon them, and blessed them. Jesus used to tell some very beautiful stories as He went slowly through the Holy Land. We have not room for all, but I must tell you two or three, and I will tell you them exactly as Jesus first told them. 'A certain man had two sons: and the younger of them said to his father, Father, give me the portion of goods that falleth to me. And he divided unto them his living. 'And not many days after the younger son gathered all together, and took his journey into a far country, and there wasted his substance with riotous living. 'And when he had spent all, there arose a mighty famine in that land; and he began to be in want. And he went and joined himself to a citizen of that country; and he sent him into his fields to feed swine. And he would fain have filled his belly with the husks that the swine did eat: and no man gave unto him. And when he came to himself, he said, How many hired servants of my father's have bread enough and to spare, and I perish with hunger! I will arise and go to my father, and will say unto him, Father, I have sinned against heaven and before thee, and am no more worthy to be called thy son: make me as one of thy hired servants. 'And he arose and came to his father. But when he was yet a great way off, his father saw him, and had compassion, and ran and fell on his neck, and kissed him. 'And the son said unto him, Father, I have sinned against heaven, and in thy sight, and am no more worthy to be called thy son. 'But the father said to his servants, Bring forth the best robe, and put it on him, and put a ring on his hand, and shoes on his feet: and bring hither the fatted calf, and kill it; and let us eat, and be merry: for this my son was dead, and is alive again; he was lost, and is found.' THE STORY OF THE UNMERCIFUL SERVANT. At another time Jesus said-- 'Therefore is the kingdom of heaven likened unto a certain king, which would take account of his servants. And when he had begun to reckon, one was brought unto him, which owed him ten thousand talents. But forasmuch as he had not to pay, his lord commanded him to be sold, and his wife, and children, and all that he had, and payment to be made. 'The servant therefore fell down, and worshipped him, saying, Lord, have patience with me, and I will pay thee all. 'Then the lord of that servant was moved with compassion, and loosed him, and forgave him the debt. 'But the same servant went out, and found one of his fellowservants, which owed him an hundred pence: and he laid hands on him, and took him by the throat, saying, Pay me that thou owest. 'And his fellowservant fell down at his feet, and besought him, saying, Have patience with me, and I will pay thee all. 'And he would not: but went and cast him into prison, till he should pay the debt. [Illustration: The Jordan near Bethabara.] 'So when his fellowservants saw what was done, they were very sorry, and came and told unto their lord all that was done. Then his lord, after that he had called him, said unto him, O thou wicked servant, I forgave thee all that debt, because thou desiredst me: shouldest not thou also have had compassion on thy fellowservant, even as I had pity on thee? And his lord was wroth, and delivered him to the tormentors, till he should pay all that was due unto him. 'So likewise shall my Heavenly Father do also unto you, if ye from your hearts forgive not every one his brother.' Jesus often told beautiful parables: here are two-- THE STORY OF THE TARES. 'The kingdom of Heaven is likened unto a man which sowed good seed in his field: but while men slept, his enemy came and sowed tares among the wheat, and went his way. 'But when the blade was sprung up, and brought forth fruit, then appeared the tares also. 'So the servants of the householder came and said unto him, Sir, didst not thou sow good seed in thy field? from whence then hath it tares? 'He said unto them, An enemy hath done this. 'The servants said unto him, Wilt thou then that we go and gather them up?' 'But he said, Nay; lest while ye gather up the tares, ye root up also the wheat with them. Let both grow together until the harvest: and in the time of harvest I will say to the reapers, Gather ye together first the tares, and bind them in bundles to burn them: but gather the wheat into my barn.' THE STORY OF THE TEN VIRGINS. 'Then shall the kingdom of heaven be likened unto ten virgins, which took their lamps, and went forth to meet the bride-groom. 'And five of them were wise, and five were foolish. They that were foolish took their lamps, and took no oil with them: but the wise took oil in their vessels with their lamps. 'While the bridegroom tarried, they all slumbered and slept. 'And at midnight there was a cry made, Behold, the bridegroom cometh; go ye out to meet him. 'Then all those virgins arose, and trimmed their lamps. And the foolish said unto the wise, Give us of your oil; for our lamps are gone out. 'But the wise answered, saying, Not so; lest there be not enough for us and you: but go ye rather to them that sell, and buy for yourselves. 'And while they went to buy, the bride-groom came; and they that were ready went in with him to the marriage: and the door was shut. 'Afterwards came also the other virgins, saying, Lord, Lord, open to us. 'But he answered and said, Verily I say unto you, I know you not. Watch therefore, for ye know neither the day nor the hour wherein the Son of Man cometh.' CHAPTER XI. THE LAST DAYS IN JERUSALEM. When it was time for Him to end His work on earth, Jesus started for Jerusalem. The people in Jerusalem heard that He was coming, and crowds of them poured out of Jerusalem to meet Him. They carried boughs of palm trees in their hands, and waved them, and cried, 'HOSANNA! BLESSED BE THE KING THAT COMETH IN THE NAME OF THE LORD! PEACE IN HEAVEN, AND GLORY IN THE HIGHEST.' Presently Jesus came to a part of the Mount of Olives where He could see Jerusalem and the Temple straight before Him; and as He looked at them, He wept aloud. He wept because they loved their sins, and hated their Saviour. He wept because He knew that God would have to punish them. He knew that in a very few years the Romans would come and fight against Jerusalem, and burn down that Temple, and kill thousands of the Jews, or carry them away as slaves. Were not these things enough to make the Lord Jesus weep? [Illustration: Mount of Olives and Jerusalem.] The blind and the lame came to Jesus in the Temple, and He made them well; and when the little children cried, 'HOSANNA TO THE SON OF DAVID,' He was pleased to hear their song. But the priests were very angry. 'Hosanna to the Son of David' means 'Save us, Jesus, our King.' The priests could not bear to hear the children call Jesus their King, and ask Him to save them. And Satan is very angry now when He hears a little child say, 'Save me, O Jesus, my King.' But Jesus is pleased. During these last days Jesus stayed quietly each night at Bethany; but the priests were very busy thinking how they could take Him prisoner, and they were very pleased when Judas came in secretly, and said, 'Give me money, and I will give you Jesus.' And the priests said they would give Judas thirty pieces of silver if he would give Jesus up to them. Thirty pieces of silver! Why, that was only about seventeen dollars ($17)--only as much as used to be paid for a slave. The next day while Jesus stayed quietly in Bethany, Peter and John were very busy, for Jesus had sent them to Jerusalem to get ready for the Passover. They had to take a lamb to the Temple to be killed by the priests, and they had to find a house in which to eat the Passover supper. Once every year the Jews used to kill a lamb, and pour out its blood before God, to show that they remembered God's goodness to them when they were in Egypt, in letting his angel pass over their houses. And then they roasted the lamb, and met together in their houses to eat it, and to thank God for all his love and kindness. When Peter and John had got the Passover supper quite ready, Jesus came from Bethany with the rest of His disciples, and they all sat down together at the table; and Jesus told the disciples that He was very glad to eat this Passover with them, because it was the very last time He would eat and drink at all before He died. Then Jesus took off His long, loose outside dress, and He wrapt a towel round Him, and poured water into a basin, and began to wash the disciples' feet, and to wipe them with the long towel which He had fastened round His waist. When Jesus had finished washing His disciples' feet, He put on His long coat again (it was called an _abba_), and sat down. And He told His disciples that He had given them an example, so that they might be kind to one another, and wait upon one another. Jesus said many beautiful words to His disciples that night at the supper; and when the supper was finished, they went out into the Mount of Olives, to a place called Gethsemane, a garden full of olive trees, where Jesus often went to pray. When Jesus came to Gethsemane with His disciples, He told them to sit down and wait for Him while He went on farther to pray. But He took with Him Peter and James and John. As they walked on, Jesus began to be so very sorrowful that He wanted to be quite alone with God. So He told Peter and James and John to stay behind and to watch. But they went to sleep. And then Jesus went a little way off, and fell down on His knees and prayed. And now His mind was in such pain that He suffered agony, and the sweat rolled down His face in drops of blood. Then Jesus came to Peter and James and John, and found them fast asleep. Twice Jesus went away and prayed the same prayer, and twice He came back to find His disciples asleep. [Illustration: Gethsemane.] And now a great crowd poured into the garden. Judas was walking first, to show the others the way, and he came up to Jesus and kissed Him again and again, and said, 'Master! Master! Peace!' And when the people saw Judas do that, they took hold of Jesus and held Him fast. They took Jesus first to the house of a priest called Annas, and then to the palace of Caiaphas the high priest; and John, who knew somebody in that house, was allowed to come in. Peter was left outside; but soon John asked the girl at the door to let Peter in too. Peter was glad to come in to see what was being done to his dear Master. The houses in the East are built round a great square court, like a big hall, only it has no roof. It was the middle of the night, and the cold air blew into that court. But the servants had made a great fire of coals in the middle of the court, and while Jesus was standing before Caiaphas and the other priests, the servants sat round that fire waiting, and warming themselves. Peter came and sat down with the servants, and warmed himself too. Presently the girl who attended to the door came up to the fire, and she had a good look at Peter, and said, 'And you were with Jesus of Nazareth. Are you not one of His disciples?' Then Peter told a lie before all the servants, and said, 'Woman, I am not. I do not know Him, and I do not know what you mean.' And he went on warming himself, and tried to look as though he knew nothing in the world about Jesus. But Peter loved Jesus too much to be able to do this well. He was unhappy, he could not sit still; he got up, and went away into a place near the door, called the porch, and when he was in the porch he heard a cock crow. Perhaps he went into the porch because he thought that it would be dark there and that nobody would see him. But the girl who kept the door told another woman to look at him, and that woman said to the people who stood by, 'This fellow was with Jesus of Nazareth, and is one of His disciples.' Then a man who stood there said to Peter, 'Are you not one of His disciples?' And again Peter told a lie, and said, 'Man, I am not. I do not know the Man.' An hour passed by, and then some of the people near said, 'You must be one of the disciples of Jesus. The way that you speak shows that you come from Galilee.' While Peter was again denying him, Jesus turned round, and looked upon Peter. And Peter remembered what Jesus had said to him, 'Before the cock crow twice, you will say three times you do not know Me.' And when he thought about what he had done, he was very, very sorry; and he went out of the high priest's palace, and wept bitterly. CHAPTER XII THE CRUCIFIXION AND THE RESURRECTION When the morning came, the priests met once more with all the chief Jews, and said Jesus must die. But the Jews could not put anyone to death. The Romans would not allow it. So they took Jesus to the Roman governor, whose name was Pontius Pilate. When Judas saw that the priests had made up their minds to kill Jesus, he began to feel very unhappy. He did not care for the money now. He came to the Temple, and brought it back to the priest, and said, 'It was very wrong of me to give Jesus up to you. He had done nothing wrong.' But their hearts were as hard as stone. They said to Judas, 'What is that to us? See thou to that.' Then Judas had no hope left. He flung the thirty pieces of silver down in the Court of the Priests, and went and hung himself. But oh! what a pity that he did not go to Jesus and ask Jesus to forgive him, instead of going to the priests! Jesus is a good, kind, loving Master. When we do wrong, if we are very sorry, like Peter, and will come and ask Jesus, He will forgive us. For 'THE BLOOD OF JESUS CHRIST, GOD'S SON, CLEANSETH US FROM ALL SIN.' Pilate took Jesus inside his splendid palace, away from the Jews, and asked Him, 'Art thou a King then?' 'Yes,' Jesus said, 'but My kingdom is not of this world. I came into this world to teach people the truth. That is the reason I was born.' 'What is truth?' said Pilate. But he did not wait for an answer. He went out again to the Jews. When the Jews saw Pilate again, they began to tell him lies which they had been making up about Jesus. And Jesus stood by and said nothing. Presently Pilate said to Jesus, 'See what a number of things they are saying against you. Have you nothing to say?' But Jesus did not answer one single word, and Pilate was greatly surprised. He felt sure that the quiet prisoner was right and that the Jews were wrong; and he said to the priests and to the people, 'I find in Him no fault at all.' It was the custom for Pilate at Passover time to set free from prison any one prisoner the people liked to ask for. So Pilate said to the crowd, 'Shall I let Jesus go?' Then the priests told the people what to say, and they shouted, 'Not this man, but Barabbas.' Pilate wanted very much to let Jesus go, and he said, 'What shall I do then with Jesus?' The crowd shouted, 'Let Him be crucified! Crucify Him! Crucify Him!' 'Why,' said Pilate, 'what has He done wrong? He does not deserve to die. I will scourge Him and let Him go.' Then the people cried out more loudly than ever, 'Let Him be crucified! Crucify Him!' But Pilate did not want to be shouted at for five or six days and nights again. And, besides, he rather wanted to please the Jews if he could, because he had done many things to vex them; so he thought, 'I will do what they wish.' But first he had a basin of water brought, and he washed his hands before all the people, and said, 'I have nothing to do with the blood of this good Man. See ye to it.' And all the people answered and said, 'His blood be on us, and on our children.' Sometimes now, when we don't want to have anything to do with a thing, we say, 'I wash my hands of it.' But Pilate did have something to do with the death of Jesus, and water would not wash away that sin. And at last, wishing to please them, Pilate had Barabbas brought out of prison, and gave Jesus up to be beaten. The Roman soldiers seized Jesus, and took off His clothes and put a scarlet dress on Him, to imitate the Emperor's purple robe; and they twisted pieces of a thorny plant which grows round Jerusalem into the shape of a crown, and put it on His head; and they put a reed in His hand for a sceptre. And then all the soldiers fell down before Jesus, and said, 'Hail, King of the Jews.' And then they spit at Jesus, and slapped Him; and they snatched the reed out of His hands and struck Him on the head, so as to drive in the thorns. Outside the city gate, on the north side of Jerusalem, there is a round hill, called the Place of Stoning. On one side of that hill there is a straight yellow cliff, and prisoners used sometimes to be thrown down from that cliff, and then stoned. And sometimes they were taken to the top of that round hill and crucified. It is very likely that this is where the soldiers took Jesus. That hill is often called Calvary. The soldiers made Jesus lie down on the cross, and they nailed Him to it--putting nails through His hands and His feet. Then they lifted up the cross with Jesus on it, and fixed it in a hole in the ground. And Jesus said, 'FATHER, FORGIVE THEM; FOR THEY KNOW NOT WHAT THEY DO.' Then the soldiers crucified two thieves, and put them near Jesus, one on each side; and they nailed up some white boards at the top of the crosses with black letters on them, to say what the prisoners had done. They put over Jesus Christ's head the words-- 'THIS IS JESUS OF NAZARETH, THE KING OF THE JEWS.' Three hours of fearful pain passed away. It was twelve o'clock. And now it became quite dark and it was dark till three o'clock in the afternoon. That was a dreadful three hours more for Jesus. It was a time of agony of mind, like the time He spent in the Garden of Gethsemane. He was having His last fight with Satan, and He felt quite alone. When it was about three o'clock, Jesus cried out with a loud voice, 'It is finished.' And He cried again with a loud voice, and said, 'Father, into Thy hands I commend My spirit.' And He bowed His head and died. [Illustration: Calvary.] And now wonderful things happened. The ground shook; the graves opened; dead people woke up to life again; and a great veil, or curtain, which hung before the most holy part of the Temple, was suddenly torn into two pieces. The high priest used to go once a year into that Most Holy Place to offer sacrifice for sin before God. But when the great purple and gold curtain was torn down without hands, it was just as if a voice from heaven had said, 'No more blood of lambs, no more high priest is wanted now. Jesus, the real Passover Lamb, has been sacrificed. Jesus has offered His own blood before God for sinners, and God will forgive every sinner who trusts in the blood of Jesus.' Then a rich man, called Joseph, came to Pilate and begged Pilate to let him have the body of Jesus to bury. Pilate said that Joseph might have the body of his Master. And Joseph came and took it down from the cross; and he and Nicodemus wrapped the body round with clean linen, with a very great quantity of sweet-smelling stuff inside the linen. There was a garden close to the place where Jesus was crucified, and in that garden there was a grave which Joseph had cut in a rock. The grave was not like those which we have. It was a little room in the rock, with a seat on the right hand, and a seat on the left, and with a place in the wall just opposite the door for the body. Joseph and Nicodemus laid the body of Jesus in this new grave. Then they came out, and rolled a great round stone over the door, and went away. Jesus was crucified on Friday, and now it was Sunday. It was very early in the morning. The soldiers were watching at the grave of Jesus, and all was still; when suddenly the earth began to tremble and shake. And behold, an angel came down from heaven, and rolled away the stone at the door of the tomb, and the Lord of Life came out. The soldiers did not see Jesus, but they did see the shining angel. The Roman soldiers shook with fright. They were so frightened that they had no strength left in them, and as soon as they could they ran away from the place. And now that the soldiers had gone, some women came near--Mary Magdalene, Mary the mother of James, Joanna, Salome, and at least one or two more women. They had brought with them some sweet-smelling spices, which they had made or bought, to put round the body of Jesus. The light was beginning to come in the sky, to show that the sun would be up soon, but it was still rather dark. As the women came along, they said one to the other, 'Who will roll away the stone for us from the door of the tomb?' For it was very great. Then they looked, and behold! the stone was gone. And Mary Magdalene ran back to the city, to tell Peter and John that the door of the tomb was open. But the other women went on, and went into the tomb where they had seen Jesus laid. He was not there now, but an angel in a long white robe was sitting on the right-hand side of the tomb. Then the women saw two angels standing by them in shining clothes, and they were afraid, and fell on their faces to the ground. Then one of the angels said to them, 'Fear not. He is not here; He is risen.' [Illustration: The empty tomb.] But Mary Magdalene after all had been the first to see Jesus. She had run off to tell Peter and John that the stone was rolled away. As soon as Peter and John knew that, they ran off to the grave as fast as they could, and Mary Magdalene went after them. John could run the fastest, so he got there first, and just peeped in through the little door in the rock. The angels had gone away, but he could see the linen bandages. They were not thrown about here and there, but they were lying neatly together. But when Peter came up he wanted to see more than that, and he went straight into the tomb, and John followed him. When Peter and John saw that the body of Jesus had really gone, they went away back to the city and told the other disciples. But Mary Magdalene did not go back. As she turned away from the grave she saw that somebody was standing near the grave. It was really Jesus, but she did not know that. She was too sad to look up. And Jesus said to her, 'Woman, why weepest thou? Whom seekest thou?' Mary thought, 'It is the gardener,' and she said, 'Sir, if you have carried Him away, tell me where you have laid Him, and I will take Him away.' Then Jesus said, 'Mary.' And Mary turned round quickly, and said, 'Master.' Then she saw that it was Jesus, and He sent her with a message to His disciples. So Mary hurried back again into the city with her good news. She found the disciples, and when she said, 'I have seen the Lord,' they would not believe it. And when some other women who had met Jesus a little later came in, and said, 'We have seen the Lord,' it was just the same. The disciples only thought, 'What nonsense these women talk!' Before the women came in, two of the disciples had gone for a very long walk. As they walked along, and talked, Jesus came near, and went with them. While Jesus talked and the disciples listened, they came to the village of Emmaus. That was the end of the disciples' journey, and now Jesus began to walk on by Himself. But the disciples begged Him to stay with them, 'Abide with us,' they said; 'it is getting late. It will soon be evening.' So Jesus went in, and sat down at table with them. And He took bread in His hands, and blessed it, and brake it, and gave it to them. Perhaps Jesus had some special way of saying grace which made the disciples know who He was. Anyway, they knew Him now. And then, suddenly, He was gone. Cleopas and his friend could not keep their good news to themselves. They got up at once, and went back, more than seven miles, to Jerusalem, and found a number of the Lord's friends and disciples sitting together at supper. Some of them were saying, 'THE LORD IS RISEN INDEED.' Then Jesus Himself came to them, and He told them that it was very wrong not to believe. Then, when He saw that they were frightened, He said, 'Peace be unto you,' and He showed them His hands and His feet, and ate some fried fish and honey which they had put on the table for supper. That was to make them understand that His body was really alive as well as His soul. And now the disciples were filled with gladness and Joy. Then Jesus told them the same things that He had been explaining to Cleopas and his friend, and He said to them-- 'AS MY FATHER HATH SENT ME, EVEN SO SEND I YOU. GO YE INTO ALL THE WORLD, AND PREACH THE GOSPEL TO EVERY CREATURE.' That is the great missionary text. A missionary means, you remember, 'one who is sent.' That text was meant for you and for me, as well as for the first disciples of Jesus. After these things, the eleven disciples went away to Galilee, and waited for Jesus to meet them there. One day Thomas and Nathanael, and James and John, and two other disciples, were together by the side of the Sea of Galilee. Peter was there too, and he always liked to be doing something, so he said to the others, 'I go a-fishing.' And they said, 'We will also go with you;' and at once they all jumped into a little ship, and pushed off into the lake. But that night they caught nothing. [Illustration: The Sea of Galilee.] Next morning Jesus came and stood on the shore. The disciples could see Him, because the little ship was now pretty near to the land, but they did not know Him. Jesus said to the men in the boat, 'Children, have you anything to eat?' They thought, I suppose, that this stranger wanted to buy some fish, and they said, 'No.' Then Jesus said, 'Cast the net on the right side of the ship, and you shall find.' And the disciples did what Jesus had said, and at once the net became so heavy with fish that the fishermen could not pull it into the boat. Then John said to Peter, 'It is the Lord.' When Peter heard that, he jumped into the water, so as to get quicker to land. The other disciples stayed in the boat, and dragged the fish along after them. When the boat got to land, Peter helped the other men to pull the net in. It was full of great fishes--a hundred and fifty and three. Jesus had got a fire of coals ready on the beach, and some bread; and some fish were broiling on the fire. And now Jesus said to the tired fishermen, 'Come and dine,' and He waited upon them Himself. After that day by the Sea of Galilee, the disciples went to a mountain which Jesus told them about. And Jesus met them there, and said to them, 'Go and teach all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. AND LO I AM WITH YOU ALWAY, EVEN UNTO THE END OF THE WORLD.' There is another splendid missionary text. [Illustration: The Mount of Olives.] Jesus stayed on earth for forty days, and when the forty days were over, He went for a last walk with His disciples. He took them the way they had so often gone together--over the Mount of Olives, and so far as Bethany. There He stopped, and lifted up His hands, and blessed them. And it came to pass, that while He blessed them, He was taken from them, and carried up into heaven, and sat down on the right hand of God. As the disciples looked up earnestly towards heaven after Jesus, two angels in white robes came and stood by them, and said, 'YE MEN OF GALILEE, WHY DO YOU STAND LOOKING INTO HEAVEN? THIS SAME JESUS WHICH IS TAKEN UP FROM YOU INTO HEAVEN SHALL COME AGAIN IN THE SAME WAY AS YOU HAVE SEEN HIM GO INTO HEAVEN.' Yes, dear children, Jesus is coming again some day. He will not come as a little baby next time. He will come as a King, to cast out Satan, to judge the world, and to take away all who love Him to be with Him forever. "SAVIOR, LIKE A SHEPHERD, LEAD US." Savior, like a shepherd, lead us, Much we need Thy tend'rest care, In Thy pleasant pastures feed us, For our use Thy folds prepare. Blessed Jesus, Blessed Jesus, Thou hast bought us, Thine we are. We are Thine, do Thou befriend us, Be the Guardian of our way; Keep Thy flock, from sin defend us, Seek us when we go astray. Blessed Jesus, Blessed Jesus, Hear, O hear us, when we pray. Thou hast promised to receive us, Poor and sinful though we be; Thou hast mercy to relieve us, Grace to cleanse, and power to free. Blessed Jesus, Blessed Jesus, We will early turn to Thee. "ONE THERE IS ABOVE ALL OTHERS." One there is, above all others, Well deserves the name of Friend; His is love beyond a brother's, Costly, free, and knows no end. Which of all our friends, to save us, Could or would have shed his blood? But our Jesus died to have us Reconciled in him to God. When he lived on earth abaséd, Friend of sinners was his name; Now above all glory raiséd, He rejoices in the same. Oh, for grace our hearts to soften! Teach us, Lord, at length, to love; We, alas! forget too often What a friend we have above. THE LORD'S PRAYER Our Father which art in heaven, Hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come. Thy will be done in earth, as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread. And forgive us our debts, as we forgive our debtors. And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil: For thine is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory, for ever. Amen. PSALM XXIII 1 The LORD is my shepherd; I shall not want. 2 He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters. 3 He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake. 4 Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me. 5 Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over. 6 Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the LORD for ever. 
19087	----	Transcriber's Note: Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the copyright on this publication was renewed. [Illustration] The King nobody wanted By NORMAN F. LANGFORD _Illustrated by John Lear_ THE WESTMINSTER PRESS PHILADELPHIA COPYRIGHT, MCMXLVIII, BY W. L. JENKINS * * * * * CONTENTS 1 Waiting 2 A King Is Born 3 Growing 4 Jesus Goes to Work 5 A Busy Time 6 Friends and Foes 7 Slow to Understand 8 Jesus Is Strong 9 Refusing a Crown 10 The Way to Jerusalem 11 Nearing the City 12 In Jerusalem 13 The Last Night 14 The Last Day 15 The Victorious King * * * * * ABOUT THIS BOOK _In a very real and interesting way_, THE KING NOBODY WANTED _tells the story of Jesus. Where the actual words of the Bible are used, they are from the King James Version. But the greater part of the story is told in the words of every day._ _Since you will certainly want to look up these stories in your own Bible, the references are given on pages 191 and 192. You will discover that often more than one Gospel tells the same story about Jesus, but in a slightly different way. In_ THE KING NOBODY WANTED, _the stories from the Gospels have been put together so that there is just one story for you to read and understand and enjoy._ [Illustration] 1. Waiting Two thousand years ago, in the land of Palestine, the Jewish people were waiting for something to happen--or, really, were waiting for someone to come. "When will he come?" was the question they were always asking one another. "Will he come in five years? next year? Or is he already on his way?" They were waiting for someone, and when he came they would call him "the Messiah." If they spoke the Greek language, they would call him "Christ." The people thought he would be a great king. They had one king already. His name was Herod the Great. But Herod was not the kind of king they wanted. Herod was hard and cruel. He poisoned and beheaded those who made him angry. He was not a Jew by birth. The Messiah, when _he_ came, would be a good king. He would be a Jew himself, and a friend to all the Jewish people. One of the prophets said he would be like the shepherds of Palestine, who watched their sheep night and day, and carried the small lambs in their arms. But the most important thing about the Messiah was that he would drive Caesar and his armies out of the country. Caesar! How they hated his very name! For Caesar was the emperor of the Romans. Some years before, the Romans had occupied the country and begun to rule it. Herod was still king of the Jews, but now he took his orders from Caesar. Everybody had to take orders from Caesar. The Jews were not a free people any more. "It used to be so different," the older people sighed, "before the Romans came." Everywhere in Palestine Roman armies went marching. Their shields flashed in the sunlight, and when they were on the march they carried golden eagles which stood for Caesar's power. The Romans tried to rule the country well. They said that everybody would get justice and fair play. But the Jews could not see the fairness in having to pay taxes to a foreign king who did not even worship God. They did not like to see Roman soldiers whipping people with long leather whips called scourges, into which bits of glass and lead and iron were fastened to make them bite more deeply into some poor Jew's back. They were sick at heart when the Romans began to punish criminals by nailing them up by their hands and feet to big wooden crosses, and leaving them to hang there until they died. [Illustration] Well, the Messiah would take care of the Romans. He would gather an army from east and west and north and south. Then there would be a great day for the Jewish people, a great day for the nation that was called by the glorious name of Israel! From all over the country the men of Israel would rise up. They would come when their king called them, and he would lead them to victory against Caesar. The Romans would go back where they came from, and Israel would be free and peaceful and rich and happy again. The Messiah would make Israel into a great kingdom, bigger and more powerful than the Roman Empire ever was. The Jews would rule the world. Everyone, everywhere, would worship the God of Israel, and the Messiah would be King of all the nations of the earth. If only he would come! [Illustration] It was hard to wait so long. They had waited for him a long time, and their fathers and grandfathers had waited for him too. Sometimes word would go around that he had finally arrived, and in great excitement some of the Jews would get ready to drive the Romans out of Palestine. But always it turned out to be a mistake, and the Jews would be disappointed, and shake their heads, and say, "Will he ever come?" But when they grew discouraged, they would remember what was written in their Holy Scriptures. For it was surely written there that the Messiah would come someday. There could be no mistake about it. Someday he would come! [Illustration] And so it went on, month after month, year after year. The people worked, and dreamed, and hoped, and prayed. The rains would fall in October and soften the hard, dry ground after the heat of summer, so that the farmer could do his plowing. And as he plowed the land, the farmer thought about the Messiah, and wondered if he would come before the harvest in the spring. Then spring would come, and the wheat and barley would be growing up in the smiling fields, and all down the hillside the grapevines and the olive trees would be full of fruit. The Romans were still marching through the country, and still there was no Messiah. But the farmer thought that maybe he would come before the next fall rains. The fisherman would go sailing across the deep-blue Sea of Galilee, and while he waited for the fish to come into his net, he thought of how long Israel had waited for the Messiah to come. The beggars in the city streets, who were deaf, or blind, or crippled, would sit at the corners and ask for money to buy food. They were wondering too if the Messiah would ever come and help the poor folk of Israel. The shepherds, out on the rocky hills where nothing would grow but grass for sheep and goats and cattle, were also thinking of the Messiah. In good weather and bad they were there, keeping an eye on their sheep, and they had plenty of time to think. When the rain and the snow were in their faces, the shepherds were thinking, _When will he come?_ And when the hot sun climbed overhead, and the heat was like a furnace, or when the east wind came and blew dust in their faces, then too the shepherds thought, _When will he come and save us?_ [Illustration] Farmers, fishermen, shepherds--these were not the only people who were thinking of the Messiah. Sometimes along the hot, lonely roads of Palestine, where robbers and wild animals were hiding, a traveler would have dreams. Or the dream might come to someone in sunny Galilee, where camel caravans crossed with their loads of spices and jewels and precious things from Far Eastern lands. But it was most likely to come to a man when he was standing in the great, white, gleaming Temple at Jerusalem, where all good Jews went to worship God. And the dream would be that the sky opened, and a great light blazed down from heaven. An army came marching down out of the sky, led by a shining warrior whose face was bright as lightning. From his eyes shot flames of fire. His arms and feet shone like polished brass or gold, and when he spoke his voice was like the shouting of ten thousand men. It was King Messiah! "Destroy the Romans!" he would cry. "Burn up their armies! Let not a single one escape!" Fire would pour down from the skies when he gave the order, and the Romans would melt away to nothing, as though they had never been. [Illustration] [Illustration] Then the dream would fade away. The dreamer would just be trudging along the dusty road, or watching the camel caravans go by, or standing in the Temple with the crowds of unhappy people pushing all around him. It was just a dream. The Romans were still there. There was no Messiah anywhere to be seen. If only the King would come! [Illustration] 2. A King Is Born Nobody saw the lions in the daytime, for they were sleeping in their caves. But at night they might come out to prowl around the rocky hills, looking for a fat sheep to eat. After dark the hyenas and jackals began to howl. Robbers might be somewhere in the darkness too. In the night, when other folk were fast asleep, a good shepherd needed to be awake and on the watch, to see that no harm came to his sheep and lambs. One night when winter was in the air, some shepherds were huddled together on a stony field not far from the town of Bethlehem. Not many miles to the north lay Jerusalem, the capital city of Palestine. But here in the fields it was quiet, and lonely, and cold. The shepherds sat upon the rocks, or stood leaning upon their staves. Now and again one of them would see something move, or hear a little rustling sound. He would raise his eyes and peer out anxiously into the darkness to make sure that all was well. Suddenly, without any warning, the sky was flooded with light from beyond the clouds. Everything had been dark a minute before, but now every stone and tree and hillock in the field showed up bright as day. The shepherds jumped to their feet. Some were too frightened to speak, and others cried out in terror. "What is it?" "What can it be?" "It's the glory of the Lord," one called out. "Lord, have mercy upon us!" Suddenly they heard a loud, clear voice. "Shepherds!" Silence fell upon the group. "Shepherds, do not be afraid. I bring you the good news which all the Jews have waited so long to hear. This very day, Christ your Saviour has been born in the city of David. And this is how you will know him: you will find him as a baby, wrapped in swaddling clothes, and lying in a manger." [Illustration] The voice broke off, and a great chorus began to sing. The sky rang with the music, and these were the words of the song: "Glory to God in the highest, And on earth peace, good will toward men." As quickly as they had come, the light and the singing were gone. There was just the darkness again, and the far-off howling of wild beasts. Everything was the same as before, except that the shepherds' eyes were still blinded by the light, and their ears were full of the music. [Illustration] Their excited voices broke the spell as they all talked at once. "He's come at last--the Messiah's come!" "Where did the angel say?" "The city of David--that means Bethlehem." "Why are we waiting here? Let's go to Bethlehem." "Yes, let's go to Bethlehem at once, and find out what has happened there." For the first time in their lives, the shepherds left their sheep to look after themselves. Across the hills and the stone fences and the rocky fields the shepherds scrambled, and hardly stopped for breath till they reached the edge of the town. Everything in Bethlehem was dark as night can be. But no--not everything. One tiny speck of light was flickering in the blackness. "He must be where the light is," said one of the shepherds. Down the street they ran, and in through a door. They were standing in a stable. There were no angels there. Instead of that, the shepherds saw cows and donkeys eating hay. A cold draft of air was blowing in around the cracks of the door and over the dirt floor. Beside one of the mangers they saw a man standing. A young woman was resting close by. She was watching a baby who lay in the straw. "We came to see the Messiah," one of the shepherds stammered. The baby cried. The animals munched their food. There was some explaining to do. The shepherds told the story of what had happened in the field. The young man beside the manger did not have anything very exciting to tell the shepherds. "My name," he said, "is Joseph. This is my wife Mary. We used to live here in Bethlehem, but no one remembers us now. I've been working in Galilee for years. I have a carpenter shop there. The only reason we came back to Bethlehem was to have our names entered in the government records. "We got here only yesterday. We tried to get a room in the inn, but there wasn't any room for us with all the important people here. They said we could sleep in the stable. The baby came tonight. Here he is, if you would like to see him." The shepherds looked at the baby. They hoped that they would see something unusual about him, but he looked just like any other baby. Then they remembered the angels' song. Outside again, the shepherds looked up and saw a faint gray light streaking the blackness in the east. Morning was coming. Soon the people of the countryside would be getting up. What a story the shepherds were going to tell them! Who would have thought of looking for the Messiah in a manger! The shepherds were the first to learn the secret. As they walked back to their flocks they prayed and gave thanks to God. [Illustration] Meanwhile, the little family in the stable were gathered in silence around the manger. Mary, the mother, said never a word, but her thoughts were busy with the tale the shepherds had told about her little child. * * * * * The shepherds were not the only people to see strange lights in the sky. Many miles away, three men saw a new star. They were Wise Men, and they knew all the stars, but this one they had never seen before. It was not only a new star, but a moving star. Like a bright fingertip in the heavens, it seemed to beckon them on. The Wise Men were rich and important, and thought nothing of a journey. At once they made ready and set out to see where the star would lead them. For many days they traveled across the desert, and at last they came to Jerusalem. Although they were not Jews, they had heard that a Messiah was expected someday in Palestine. When they saw that the star had brought them to Jerusalem, they decided that the Messiah must have come. "We are strangers here," they said to each other. "We had better ask our way." King Herod was in Jerusalem just then, and the Wise Men went to his palace. Since they were rich and famous, they had no trouble getting in to see the king. They bowed down respectfully before the king, and Herod received them with courtesy. Then the Wise Men asked: [Illustration] "Where is the newborn King of the Jews? We have seen his star in the east. We have come to worship him, but we do not know where he is." Herod was surprised, and then he was angry. A new king of the Jews? Why, Herod himself was the king of the Jews! However, he hid his feelings, and answered, "I will find out what you want to know." He left the Wise Men, and hurried off to consult with his advisers. "The Messiah!" he shouted. "Where do they say the Messiah will be born?" Solemnly he was told: "In Bethlehem. An ancient book of the Holy Scriptures tells us that out of Bethlehem shall come a governor to rule the people of Israel." Fear and jealousy boiled up in Herod. But a king must control his feelings, and Herod was old and wise. When he had called his three visitors to him, he was as smooth and polite as ever. He told them that they would find the child in Bethlehem. "Go there," Herod said, "and look for him carefully. And when you have found him come and tell me, for I too want to go and worship him." The Wise Men thanked the king, and set out for Bethlehem. Soon they arrived at the place where Joseph and Mary were staying with the baby. It was very different from Herod's palace. There the three Wise Men fell down on their knees as they would before a king. They opened their treasures and put their gifts in front of the baby. One brought gold. The others brought sweet-smelling ointments, frankincense and myrrh. "Hail, Messiah!" they murmured in adoration. "Hail, Christ! Hail, King of the Jews!" When they were once more outside on the road, one of them spoke: "I think," he said, "that it would be well for us not to see anything of Herod again. I had a dream...." The others agreed with him quickly. They had had a dream too. "God sent that dream to warn us that Herod is dangerous," they said. "Herod means to harm the child. Let us find some other road back home." [Illustration] [Illustration] [Illustration] The days went by, and soon the baby was given his name. He was to be called Jesus. One day, when Jesus was about six weeks old, Joseph said to Mary: "Now that we have a child, we must go up to the Temple in Jerusalem and give an offering to the Lord. We cannot afford a lamb. But we can at least take pigeons or a pair of turtledoves." So Joseph and Mary left Bethlehem, and carried Jesus with them to Jerusalem, five miles away. An old man came up to them in the Temple. "My name is Simeon," he said. "I have been waiting for you a long time. All my life I have been waiting to see the Messiah. And now the day has come." He took Jesus from his mother's arms, and as he held the baby he began to pray. "Lord, let me now die in peace," he prayed. "For I have seen the Messiah, the Saviour of all nations and the glory of the Jewish people." Simeon turned back to Joseph and Mary, who were looking at him in wonder. "Mary," he said, "this child of yours is going to break your heart. He will make enemies, and cause great trouble in this country. He will suffer, and others will suffer too, because of him. But also he will give joy, and bring many people to God. God bless you now." With these words the old man handed the baby back to Mary, and turned away. Joseph and Mary never saw him again, but they remembered his words forever after. They took Jesus, and started on their walk back to Bethlehem. There was so much for them to think about. First there was the story of the shepherds. Then the Wise Men had come with their wonderful gifts. And now there was this old man with his strange words of blessing and warning. Everything seemed to tell them that Jesus was the Messiah. They should be happier than anyone in the world. And yet they were not happy. There was trouble in the air. Their baby was going to be King of the Jews. Why should there be any trouble about it? They could not understand. Trouble was not long in coming. One night Joseph had a dream. When he awoke he called to his wife, and told her that they must leave Bethlehem at once. God had sent the dream as a warning for them to get out of the country. They did not dare to stay there any longer. So Joseph and Mary packed up their belongings, and set out for the far country of Egypt where they would be safe. They left Bethlehem none too soon. For Herod was exceedingly angry when the Wise Men did not come back. Now he was sure that the Messiah really had been born! He was afraid that soon there would be a new king in Palestine to take his throne away from him. When Herod was afraid, he never wasted any time. Somewhere in Bethlehem was a child whom he feared, and somehow that child must be killed. But he did not know which child it was. How could he be sure to find the right one? He thought of a simple plan. He called his army officers together, and gave them their orders. "Send your soldiers to Bethlehem," he told them, "and have them kill every boy in the place who is two years old or younger." The officers sent their men to Bethlehem, and all the little boys they could find there were put to death. No matter who they were they had to die. It did not take the soldiers very long. In a few hours they were back in Jerusalem. Herod breathed more easily. _That's a good thing_, he thought. _If every little boy in Bethlehem is dead, the Messiah must be dead along with the rest._ Herod did not know that the baby whom he feared was gone from Bethlehem before the soldiers got there. While the fathers and mothers of Bethlehem were crying because their little ones were dead, Joseph and Mary and Jesus were safely on their way to Egypt. Herod did not live long enough to find out his mistake. After he died, the little family in Egypt learned that it was safe to go home again. But this time they did not go back to Bethlehem. They went straight to the town of Nazareth in Galilee, where Joseph had worked before Jesus was born. There they settled down as though nothing unusual had happened. In Galilee nobody knew that anything strange had happened at all. Nobody there had heard of the shepherds and the Wise Men, and nobody knew what Simeon had said in the Temple. Nobody knew why it was that so many babies in Bethlehem had been murdered. Nobody in Nazareth thought that the Messiah had come. [Illustration] In Nazareth people only said, "I hear the carpenter has a son." When Jesus began to walk perhaps they said, "Joseph's son is strong for his age." And later they said, "The carpenter's lad is doing well at school." But there were more interesting things to talk about in Nazareth than the carpenter's family. There was the Messiah to talk about. "When will he come?" the people asked each other. Nobody in Nazareth had heard the angels sing. [Illustration] 3. Growing When boys in Nazareth were about six years old, it was time for them to go to school. No girls were there, for the girls stayed home with their mothers. But every day except the Sabbath, the boys went to the school and sat on the floor with their legs crossed, and there the teacher taught them many things that every Jewish boy would need to know. He taught them their A B C's in the Hebrew language. Instead of A, he showed them how to make a mark like this: [Hebrew: a]. Instead of B, they learned to make this letter: [Hebrew: b]; and so on, through all the alphabet. Then when they knew their letters, they could learn to read. And every Jewish boy had first of all to read the Scriptures. The teacher taught them what was in the Scriptures. Over and over they said their lessons aloud, talking all at once, until they knew everything they were supposed to know by heart. The teacher taught them psalms which had been sung for many years in the Temple of Jerusalem. He taught them also about the prophets. The prophets were preachers whose words had long ago been written down in the sacred Scriptures. These books were long pieces of skin, which were kept rolled up when no one was reading them. There were many prophets--Isaiah, Jeremiah, Ezekiel, Amos, Malachi, and many others. Little by little the boys began to discover what these preachers had said. [Illustration] The teacher also made sure that they knew about that part of the Scriptures called the Law. The Ten Commandments were in the Law, and many other sayings which told people what they must do and what they must not do in order to please God. The boys learned how God gave the Commandments to Moses, while lightning flashed and thunder crashed, at the far-off mountain of Sinai. The teacher told them stories of all that had happened to the Jewish people in the years gone by. But the most important was the story of the Passover. This story explained why their parents went to Jerusalem each spring. Now this was what every Jewish boy had to learn about the Passover, and remember always: Once there was a time, hundreds of years before, when the Jews did not live in Palestine. They lived in Egypt, where they were slaves. They wanted to escape, so that they might have a country of their own where they could be free. One spring night God sent a disease into Egypt, and thousands died of it. There was not an Egyptian home where the oldest child in the family did not die. But none of the Jews died. Therefore, they said that God _passed over_ their doors that night. Then there was a great uproar and clamor in Egypt, with the Egyptians weeping, and nursing their sick, and burying their dead. The time had come for the Jews to get away. Under their leader, Moses, they began their long journey toward Palestine. The Jewish people never forgot what God did for them in Egypt. So in the spring of each year was held the Feast of the Passover, to give thanks to God for the help he had given them long ago. They gathered together and sang: [Illustration] "O give thanks unto the Lord, for he is good: For his mercy endureth for ever." To the Passover feast every family brought a lamb to be killed as a sacrifice to God. Only the best could be given to God. They chose a lamb that was white, and pure, and fine, and precious. Then they roasted the lamb, and ate it. What a feast they had, so solemn and so joyful, as they remembered all that God had done! Everyone knew the best place to hold the Passover feast was at Jerusalem. Therefore, every year, when spring came round, the people said to one another, "It is Passover time," and as many as could leave their homes went up to the great city. When the boys heard the story, they understood why their parents went there in the spring. When Jewish boys were twelve years old, and could read the Hebrew language, and knew the psalms, and understood the prophets, and were learning to obey the Law--then they were practically grown up. At this age a boy could be called "a son of the Law." He could go along with his parents to Jerusalem when it was Passover time. Each year Joseph and Mary liked to be in Jerusalem for the Passover. When Jesus was twelve years old, he was "a son of the Law," like other boys his age, and for the first time he went with them. Many friends and relatives kept them company as they started on the road. Now from Nazareth it was more than eighty miles to Jerusalem, and eighty miles is a long way to walk. It would have been easier to ride in a cart; but nobody traveled that way in Palestine. The roads were too rough and narrow for anything but walking. Donkeys and horses might carry the heavy luggage, but the people went on foot. There were no bridges, and so the only way to get from one side of a river to the other was to find a shallow place and wade across. It would take two or three days to go from Nazareth to Jerusalem. When the travelers were tired at night, there was not likely to be any place to sleep along the road, except under the open sky and the stars. There were three stages to their journey. The first was the pleasant part, through Galilee. When the travelers left Nazareth that day, the sky was clear and the air was fresh. The fields lay lovely in the sunlight. The roads were full of people from many countries. There were always merchants on the road traveling from the East to Greece and Egypt, and back to the East again. Galilee was beautiful, and Galilee was busy. Sooner or later the time must come to leave pleasant Galilee behind. But which way would they go from there? Should they go straight south through Samaria? That would have been the shortest and the easiest way. The only thing against it was that the people of Samaria were not friendly to Jews. Long years before, Samaria had been the home of many of the Jewish people. But foreigners came and settled among them. Then their ways became so different that the people of Jerusalem said they were not Jewish any more. They were bitter rivals of the Jews, and it was hardly safe to go among them. So the travelers chose, for the second stage of their journey, the long road down the valley of the river Jordan. But they did not find this very pleasant, either. High above the river stood the banks, and it seemed as though the river itself were at the bottom of a great, deep ditch. And down there was the road they had to take. In some places they came to slime and mud, and dead trees and twisted roots. But sometimes there were farms and villages. It was hot at the north end of the Jordan, when first they came to it; and the farther south the travelers went, the hotter grew the weather. Very hot, very tired, and very thirsty, they finally reached the last stretch of the journey--across country from the Jordan to Jerusalem. They were nearly there. But the last part of the trip was the hardest of all. Around them stretched a dreary desert. There were bleak hills, and ugly rocks, and hardly a drop of water anywhere to drink. No wonder nobody went to Jerusalem, except Jews and Roman soldiers! There were no gay caravans of Eastern merchants here. Galilee seemed very far away. Up one side of a hill, and down another, and then another higher hill to climb! Up and up, over stones and bare earth and bushes and thorns, until they were high above the Jordan--that was the road to Jerusalem. Would they ever get there? What they would have given just to sit down and wash the sand off their hot, tired feet! Then all at once they saw it. From the top of the hill they saw it, walls and roofs and towers gleaming in the morning sun. A shout of joy went up. Every man and woman and child joined in the shouting. Jerusalem, the city of David! King David built that city, a thousand years ago. The enemies of God had come and burned it to the ground, but the Jews built it up again. They were sure that it could never be destroyed. It would always be there, for ever and ever. Someday the Messiah would come, and all the peoples and nations of the world would come to see Jerusalem, as these poor folk from Galilee were doing now. [Illustration] The travelers began to march again, but faster this time; forgotten were the weary miles behind. They marched, and as they marched they sang. They sang one of the psalms that the boys had learned at school. Everyone took up the song: "'I was glad when they said unto me, Let us go into the house of the Lord. Our feet shall stand within thy gates, O Jerusalem.... Pray for the peace of Jerusalem: They shall prosper that love thee.'" There were so many visitors in Jerusalem that they could not all find a place to stay in the city. Some of them stayed in the villages near by, and others slept in tents out in the open air. At an ordinary time of the year, there would be only about thirty thousand people living in Jerusalem. But at the Passover there might be twice that, or even more. Even the Roman governor was in Jerusalem at Passover time. He lived in another city, but he always came to Jerusalem for the great feast. It was not that he cared about the Passover. It was because he was afraid that with such great crowds in Jerusalem there might be trouble unless his Roman soldiers were on guard. It would be especially bad if anyone showed up claiming to be the Messiah. All the people might make him king, and rebel against Rome, and great numbers would be killed. With such crowds in the city, it was hard for the people from Nazareth to get through the narrow streets. All along the streets they saw shops. Some of the shopkeepers were selling goods that had been brought down from Galilee--fish and oil and wine and fruit. Besides the merchants there were shoemakers, butchers, carpenters, tailors. On the side streets gold-smiths and jewelers were making things for the rich people. Here and there was a merchant selling fine silks which had been brought from the Far East. A man could buy almost anything he wanted in Jerusalem, provided that he had the money. [Illustration] The travelers from Galilee pushed their way through the crowded streets, and on up to the Temple on the hill. Here was God's own house! How large it was! Herod the Great had built this Temple. Ten thousand men had worked many years to build it, and it was not quite finished yet. Eight gates led into the beautiful building with the white walls and the golden towers. Inside there was room for many thousands of people. What a clatter and a clamor and a tumult there was! It seemed as though all the world were there. Doves and cattle, as well as lambs, were offered in the Temple as a sacrifice to God. You could hear the poor creatures calling out--the cows lowing, the lambs bleating, the doves singing their sweet, sad song. Money was clinking on the tables. Only one kind of coin could be used as an offering, and travelers had to exchange those they were carrying for Jewish money. The men who made the exchange often cheated the visitors. The people from Galilee separated when they came to the Court of the Women. The women and girls could go no farther, but the men and boys went up some steps into the Court of Israel. There they watched the priests of the Temple taking the doves and lambs and cattle that the worshipers had brought, and offering them up as a sacrifice. The priests killed the animals, and let the blood drip on the altar where the sacrifices were given to God. The Court of Israel was as far as anyone could go, unless he were a priest. There was another room called the Holy Place, which only priests could enter. To the people it was a place of great mystery. Then farther on was a still more mysterious room called the Holy of Holies. Even a priest did not dare to step inside that door. That was the secret place of God. Only the high priest, who was head of all the priests, could enter there. And he could go in only once a year. The visitors from Nazareth saw a priest coming toward them. Anyone could tell from his clothes that he was wealthy. He came from one of the families that were known as the Sadducees. The Sadducees were the only people who were at all friendly with the Romans. The reason for this was that they were better off than most other people and well-satisfied with things as they were. They thought it wise to stay on good terms with Caesar. Nobody liked the Sadducees very well, but everyone had to admit that they were certainly very important. They sat in a high council and governed everything that went on around the Temple. And here was a Pharisee, looking very well pleased with himself! Jesus had seen Pharisees before, around Nazareth, and they always seemed to have that look. The word "Pharisee" meant "someone who is different." What made the Pharisees different was that they were always talking about the Law, and claiming that they obeyed it better than anyone else. They were kindly folk, on the whole, and very well respected, but they did not have any official position, like the Sadducees. All they did was study the Law and tell other people about it. The Pharisee whom the visitors were watching began to pray so that everyone could see him. It seemed as if he were saying, "O Lord, I thank thee that I am better than these other people here!" Most of the great throng crowding the Temple were not priests, or Sadducees, or Pharisees. They were plain people who had come to bring their sacrifices, or to talk about the Scriptures, or simply to be in the Temple because they loved God's house. Nobody was paying much attention to Jesus. He was just a young boy, lost in the crowd. * * * * * The days went by, and the lambs were killed and eaten. The prayers were said and the hymns were sung. It was all over at last, and the time had come to go home. Joseph and Mary did not see Jesus the morning they all were supposed to leave. They did not wait to find him, for the other travelers from Nazareth were anxious to get started on the long journey back to Galilee. Joseph and Mary said to each other: "Jesus is safe enough. There are so many of us from Nazareth that he can't get lost. No doubt he is somewhere in the party." The Nazareth people said good-by to the Temple for another year, and started off for home. Out through the city gates they went, and back into the desert through which they had come. They walked a whole day, and still Joseph and Mary saw no sign of Jesus. This was beginning to seem strange. Surely they would see him somewhere! At last it dawned upon them. He wasn't there at all! They were frightened now. What could have happened to Jesus? What would become of him in Jerusalem? There was nothing to do but to leave the party, and turn back alone to the city. But Jerusalem was a big place, and they hardly knew where to hunt for Jesus. How would they ever find one boy among all those thousands of people? [Illustration] They went to the Temple. But even if he were here, it would not be easy to find him quickly. Walking through one of the courts, they noticed a group of people gathered around a rabbi. There was nothing unusual about that. There were a great many teachers in the Temple, and a visitor often saw groups gathered around them to listen to their teaching. But there was something different about this group. Most of the men in it were Pharisees who were themselves rabbis. And the strange thing was that they were not doing all the talking as they usually did. They were listening too. And they were not listening to a rabbi, but to the voice of a boy. Joseph and Mary moved closer. There could be no mistake about it--it was Jesus who was talking! He was asking questions; he was answering questions. The long-bearded rabbis were standing there, their mouths open in astonishment. Jesus was not just a boy in the crowd any longer. Men old enough to be his grand-father were listening to what he had to say. Mary's surprise turned to anger. She pushed her way through the crowd and took Jesus by the arm. "Why did you do this?" she cried. "Your father and I have been looking for you everywhere." Jesus stood just where he was. It was as though he belonged there. He said: "Why did you come to look for me? Don't you know that I must be looking after my Father's business?" Joseph and Mary stood there too, not knowing what to make of their boy or of what he said. They waited to see what he would do. And then, in a minute, Jesus turned and went with them. They did not have to ask him again. The three of them went home to Nazareth. Jesus knew that someday he would go back to the Temple. But he was not ready for that yet. He must do his duty to his parents. He must obey God at home. Then he would always know how to obey God in the wide world beyond Nazareth. The lambs went quietly to the Temple when they were taken there to be offered to the God of Israel. Jesus must be obedient like a Lamb of God. 4. Jesus Goes to Work [Illustration] When Jesus was thirty years old, people began to talk about the great man who had come to Palestine. "This man is so great," they said, "that he may be the Messiah." But it was not Jesus they were talking about. It was his cousin, John. John was a preacher. He was afraid of no one, and as a result everyone was a bit afraid of him. John was a rough, strong man. Next to his skin he wore leather, and over that he wore a cloak of camel's hair. Honey and locusts were his food. Every day John preached down by the river Jordan. The people flocked out from Jerusalem and from all the countryside round about to hear him preach. It was a wild and dreary place to come to, but when John preached everybody wanted to be there. This was how he preached: "Give up your sins, and begin a new life at once, for God is coming to rule over men! I am a voice crying in the wilderness. I tell you--prepare for the Lord!" And when the people heard him, they were afraid. Many of them cried out, "We have sinned!" and came forward out of the crowd. John led them down the bank into the river and baptized them as a sign that they wanted to be cleansed of their sins and begin a new life. Thus John came to be known as "John the Baptist." But when John thought that a man was not in earnest, then he refused to baptize him. Some of the Pharisees and the Sadducees came to be baptized, and John would have nothing to do with them. They might be great men in Jerusalem, but John called them "snakes in the grass." He told them: "I've seen the snakes out here in the wilderness, wriggling for dear life to get out of the way when the grass catches fire. That's what you remind me of. You're scared. You think that something terrible is going to happen, and so you're pretending to be good people so that it won't go so hard with you. You will have to show me that you want to be something different from what you are! And don't think that you amount to anything just because you are Jews. God could make as good Jews as you are out of these stones." That is how John the Baptist talked to some of the great men of Jerusalem. It made people think more than ever that he might be the Messiah. Who except the Messiah would dare to talk that way to Pharisees and Sadducees? But others shook their heads and said, "No--this couldn't be the Messiah!" For they thought that when the Messiah came he would drive the Romans out of the country; and many people said that the only way to do that would be to get an army together. Some men were meantime killing all the Romans they could. They were called "Zealots," because they were so much filled with zeal about killing off the Romans. A few even carried daggers with them, and stuck the daggers into Romans whenever they got a chance. "The Romans will not be overthrown," they said, "just by preaching. You will have to get out and kill the Romans." John himself said that he was not the Messiah. [Illustration] [Illustration] "There is someone coming who is greater than I," he told the people. "Someone is coming whose shoe-laces I am not worthy to stoop down and untie. Compared to him, I am nobody. I am just preparing the way for the Messiah." One day there was a great crowd, as usual, down by the Jordan, and John was busy baptizing the people as fast as they came to the water. One after another they came. It went on for hours. [Illustration] John had just baptized one man and helped him to the bank. The next one was coming forward. John looked up to see who it was. He was looking into the face of Jesus of Nazareth. "You! Not you!" John spoke in a hoarse whisper. "No! I can't baptize you. You must baptize _me_ instead!" Before anyone could notice that anything was wrong, Jesus stepped to the water's edge. "Don't say anything about it, John," he said softly. "Treat me just like the rest of them. We shall all be baptized together into a new life." Jesus went forward into the river and John baptized him. In a moment Jesus was up the bank and lost in the crowd. The next man was coming forward. John stared after the vanishing figure of Jesus. The crowd made way for Jesus, thinking, _There goes another man who came to be cleansed of his sins._ But John said: "When I baptized _him_, I saw the Spirit of God come down out of heaven like a dove, and light upon him. Jesus is the Son of God. I am nothing. He is everything. He is the Messiah. He is the Lamb of God!" The next man was coming down the bank toward John. John stood peering into the crowd. Jesus was nowhere to be seen. Jesus had gone away to be alone, as God wanted him to do. He went into the loneliest part of the desert, where there were only the wild animals to keep him company. _I am the Messiah_, he thought. _There is no doubt that I am the Messiah. I must save my people. How should I begin?_ There was nothing to eat in the wilderness, and Jesus grew hungry. He looked around him, and saw that the stones were shaped like loaves of bread. There seemed to be a voice inside him which was not his own. The voice said: "_If you really are the Messiah, you oughtn't to be hungry. If you really are the Messiah, you would just have to say the word and these stones would be turned into bread. Then you would have plenty to eat for yourself, and, besides, you could go and give bread to all the hungry folk out there who are waiting for you to help them._" It was very quiet in the wilderness. The voice spoke up again. "_But maybe you are afraid to try. Suppose you said to the stones, 'Stones, become bread!' and then nothing happened! That would prove that you weren't the Messiah, wouldn't it?_" Jesus shook his head, to get rid of the thought. Some words from the Scriptures came into his mind. "_Man shall not live by bread alone, but by every word that proceedeth out of the mouth of God._" No, it would not do to try playing tricks with stones. It would not matter if he did turn them into bread. Bread was not the most important thing in the world. People might think that there was nothing so important as eating, but there were bigger things in life than that. People might think that what the Messiah ought to do was to make the country prosperous, but that would not help them so much as they thought. That was not the kind of Messiah he was going to be. But what was the best way to prove that he was the Messiah? The tempting voice inside tried again. "_Maybe the best idea_," it said, "_is to go to Jerusalem and climb up on the tower and jump down! Everyone says that the Messiah is going to come suddenly out of heaven. You would come down suddenly enough that way! And nothing would happen to you. It says in the Scriptures that God will send his angels to hold you up and keep you from being hurt. Surprise the whole city by jumping off the Temple, and everybody will worship you at once!_" Again Jesus shook the thought away, and again he thought of what the Scriptures said. "_Thou shalt not tempt the Lord thy God." I can't go and put God to the test, to see whether he will keep me from being hurt. And it won't make me the Messiah just to cause a big sensation in Jerusalem. That's what everyone is expecting, but that is not the right way at all. There must be some other way._ And the voice spoke up again. [Illustration] "_There is something else you could do. What the world needs is a ruler like you. Everybody says that the Messiah is going to be a world ruler, great and good. Don't let the people down! You are a great man. You could be anything you wanted to be--a general, a governor, a king._" Jesus thought, _That's Satan tempting me, that's the devil himself talking!_ He spoke out loud: "Go away from me, Satan! For the Scriptures say, 'Thou shall worship the Lord thy God, and him only shalt thou serve!'" The voice said no more. A great quietness came over Jesus. There was no great thing that he needed to do right away. He was the Messiah, but he did not need to make the country wealthy. He did not need to jump from the Temple, and he did not need to command an army or rule an empire. There was one thing that he would have to do, but he could not tell anybody about it yet. It was going to be his secret for a while. But someday everybody would see what he was doing. Someday it would be understood. And now it was time to be on his way. He had been in the wilderness forty days, and that was long enough. He found the trail back to the outside world, and soon he was on the road to Galilee. * * * * * When Jesus got home to Galilee, he began to preach to people in the streets. What he said at first was very much like what John the Baptist said: "Give up your sins, and begin to live a new life, for God has come to rule over you!" But the crowds that heard Jesus were not so large as those that went to the Jordan to hear John. Jesus needed some followers now who would be with him all the time, and learn everything he had to tell them. John the Baptist had his followers; "disciples" was what they were called. Jesus began to look for disciples of his own. One morning he went down to the shore of the Sea of Galilee. When he came back to the town, he had four disciples with him. Two of them were brothers named Simon and Andrew. Andrew remembered Jesus, for he had once been a disciple of John the Baptist. He had seen John point to Jesus, and heard him say, "He is the Lamb of God!" Andrew had told Simon all about it. When Jesus came to them along the shore of the Sea of Galilee, he found them putting a net into the water, for Andrew and Simon were fishermen. Jesus said to them, "Come and follow me, and I will make you fishers of men." Fishing was good business, but Simon and Andrew were ready to give it up to follow the man John had called "the Lamb of God." They came away with him at once. [Illustration] [Illustration] Farther along the shore was another pair of brothers. One of them had also been with John the Baptist. Their names were James and John, and they were with their father, Zebedee. They had done so well at fishing that they could afford to have servants to help them. But when Jesus called them they also came at once, and left their father and the servants behind. That was four to start with, and soon he had eight others. But no one of them was a very important person, and people said that one of them was wicked. That was Levi, who was also called Matthew. The trouble with Levi was that he was a taxgatherer. Everybody hated taxgatherers. They were called "publicans," and it was thought that no one could be much lower than a publican. The publicans worked for the Roman government. They were not Romans themselves, but Jews, which made it all the worse. They were looked upon as traitors, for they collected the taxes for the hated Romans, and made a fortune for themselves by cheating the people. Levi's job was to collect the fee for traveling along the road, and what he could collect over and above the amount he ought to have charged, he kept for himself. Then Levi heard Jesus preaching. He heard him say that he ought to give up his sins, and begin to live a new life. When Jesus came to Levi's table one day, and said, "Follow me," just as he had said it to the honest fishermen by the lake shore, Levi was ready to come away. Without a word Levi got up and left his taxgathering behind, and all his fortune. Levi became a disciple like the other eleven, and was treated like the rest. But other people were shocked when they saw a publican with Jesus, and tongues began to wag. No one seemed to notice that Levi had stopped collecting taxes. He had been a publican once, and no one except Jesus was ready to give him a second chance. Other publicans sometimes came to have dinner with Jesus and his disciples, along with many people who were looked down upon in the community. The Pharisees in particular were angry when they saw the company that Jesus kept. One day they came to one of these dinner parties, and told the disciples that they did not care for Jesus' choice of friends. "How is it," they asked, "that your master eats and drinks with publicans and sinners?" Jesus heard them, and replied: "It is not well people who need a doctor, but the sick. I didn't come here for the sake of the good people, such as you think that you are, but for the sake of sinners--to lead them into a new life." But the Pharisees still objected. They said: "Look at John the Baptist. John is a good man. His disciples are so religious that they sometimes go without their meals. Your disciples always seem to be eating!" "Why shouldn't they eat and feast and be merry?" Jesus answered. "They are like the friends of a man who is being married. When someone is to be married, his friends have a great feast. They are joyful because the bridegroom is with them. In the same way my disciples are joyful because they have me with them." Jesus meant that they were joyful because he was the Messiah, and his disciples were glad to be with him. But he did not say that he was the Messiah, and no one knew what he was talking about. The Pharisees would have had more respect for him if he had had a better class of friends. Fishermen might do, but not publicans and sinners of that sort! If only Jesus were more like John the Baptist! They never once thought that Jesus might be the Messiah. When they saw the kind of friends he had, they wondered if he was even a good man. [Illustration] [Illustration] 5. A Busy Time The Pharisees may not have liked Jesus, but no one could deny that he knew how to preach. The crowds that came to hear him were growing larger. Often Jesus stood at the foot of a hill and preached to the crowd that had gathered on the hillside. Now everyone who heard Jesus preach was likely to be surprised. For he did not say the things that people expected to hear. Often he said the very opposite of what they wanted him to say. He did not believe in giving people a good opinion of themselves. He told them what was wrong with them. He did not say that it was easy to be good. He said that it was much harder than anybody thought. He did not try to preach sermons that would make him popular, for he was not thinking of himself. He was thinking of what God had to say to the people, and so he told them plainly what they ought to know and what they ought to do. Jesus knew that his listeners found it easier to hate other people than to love them. And so he stood one day at the foot of the hill and said: "You have all heard the saying, Love your friend and hate your enemy. But that is not what I say. I say, Love your enemies, bless those who curse you, and pray for those who use you badly. That is what God does. He makes the sun rise on everybody, good or bad. He sends the rain to fall on everyone, no matter who he is. "If you love only those who love you, you don't deserve any credit for that. That's what everybody does. Be like God. He is merciful, and you ought to be merciful too. Forgive those who do you a wrong, or you cannot expect God to forgive you." [Illustration] All the people thought that they were at least doing the right thing in hating the Romans. How could anyone help hating those rough Roman soldiers, who often came along and made Jews carry their packs for them? But Jesus said, "If a Roman soldier makes you carry his pack for a mile, carry it another mile as well, to show that you love him." Another thing that Jesus knew about his listeners was that many of them were worried about money, and food and clothes. It was hard to blame them for that; for some of the people were very poor, and were never sure that they were going to get enough to eat. Jesus was poor enough himself. His disciples were also poor, and they got no richer by following him. Turning to the disciples, Jesus said to them, "Blessed are you who have nothing you can call your own." The disciples pricked up their ears. "Blessed"--that meant to be fortunate, or well off. What was good about having nothing? Jesus went on: "Blessed are you who have nothing, for yours is the kingdom of heaven. "Blessed are you who often go hungry, you shall be fed later on. "Blessed are you who are sad, the time will come when you will be joyful. "Blessed are you, when other people hate you, and will have nothing to do with you, because you are my disciples. Be glad when that happens, because that is what has happened to all God's servants. God will reward you for everything you suffer for my sake." There was silence. Jesus looked out over the crowd and spoke again, "Woe to you who are rich!" Again the disciples were amazed. The rich people would not like that! The disciples were poor themselves, but they wondered what was wrong with being rich. Jesus thought of a rich man whom he knew, who wore fine purple clothes and ate the best food in the land. And he thought of a poor beggar who sat all day long outside the rich man's house. His body was covered with sores, and he was so hungry that he would have been glad to get the crumbs that fell from the rich man's table. But the only friends he had were the dogs that came and licked his sores. Jesus continued, in a stern voice: "Woe to you who are rich! For you have already had everything you are ever going to have! Woe to you who are well-fed! The time is coming when you will go hungry. Woe to you who are enjoying yourselves all the time! Someday you will weep. Woe to you when everyone speaks well of you! It is easy to be popular if you aren't faithful to God. That's the way it has always been." Jesus knew that all of them were too much interested in the things that money could buy. They wanted the Messiah to come so that he would make them all rich. And so Jesus said, to show them where they were wrong: "Don't be always thinking about what you are going to eat and drink and wear. Why, that's the kind of thing the Romans worry about. There is more to life than food and clothing." He paused for a moment. It was a warm summer day. The birds were flying overhead, and singing; and up the hillside the wild flowers made patches of color in the grass. Jesus spoke again: [Illustration] [Illustration] "Look at the birds of the air. They never plant crops, or reap harvests, or gather the grain into barns. Yet your Heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not more important than birds? Think of the lilies of the field, how they grow. They never yet made any clothes for themselves, and yet the great King Solomon in all his glory was not so beautifully clothed as one of these little flowers. You people who have so little faith in God--think! If God clothes the flowers of the field, which are here today and gone tomorrow, will he not clothe you? Seek the Kingdom of God first of all, and you will be given all the food and clothes you need. Never worry about tomorrow. Tomorrow will look after itself when it comes. Think about how you ought to live today." There was another weakness that Jesus had seen in people, especially in the Pharisees. They loved to show off their good deeds. He had to speak about this too. "When you give something to the poor," he said, "don't make a great noise about it, like some people I could mention, who want to impress everybody with how generous they are. If you give anything, keep quiet about it. God will know what you have done, and that's enough. "It's the same with prayer," Jesus continued. "Don't stand praying on the street corners where everyone can see you. There are many people who do that. When you pray, go into your own room and pray with the door closed. God will hear you, and he is the only one who needs to hear." [Illustration] Jesus had his admirers. Some people admired him so much that they began to call him "Master" and "Lord." But Jesus did not think that they were all in earnest. He spoke plainly about this also. "It won't do you any good to come saying, 'Lord, Lord,'" he said, "unless you do the things God expects of you. Someday, I suppose you will come and tell me of all the wonderful things you have done in my name. And then I will have to say to you: 'I don't even know who you are. Go away!' "If anyone hears my teachings, and does what I tell him to do, he will be like a man who builds his house upon a rock. The rain comes down and the wind blows, and the house keeps on standing there, because it is built upon a rock. You will be strong like that house, if you do as I say. But anyone who hears my teachings and pays no attention to them is like a man who builds his house upon the sand. When the rains and the floods and the winds come, the house will fall down and that will be the end of it. You will be weak like that house, if you do not obey my words." [Illustration] [Illustration] Now when the people heard how Jesus preached, they were amazed. They wondered who this was who spoke to them as though he were God himself. That was not how other preachers taught. They were always quoting somebody else, as though they were afraid to speak for themselves. But Jesus simply said, "_I_ am telling you." He said, "Listen to _me_." * * * * * Every Friday evening at sunset the Sabbath began, and there could be no more work until sunset on the following day. Saturday morning all the Jewish people went to attend the service in the synagogue. The people would come in and take their places, with the most important people up in front. At the beginning of the service, everyone stood and faced in the direction of Jerusalem, and recited some verses from the Scriptures. These were always the same. They began: "Hear, O Israel: The Lord our God is one Lord: And thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thine heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy might." After this there was prayer. Then the minister opened a cabinet and brought out the Scriptures, which were written on long pieces of skin made into a kind of paper. The pieces were kept rolled up when they were not in use. The minister brought two of the rolls and laid them on the reading desk. Someone read the Scripture lessons then, and after that anyone in the congregation who wished could go up to the front and explain what the lesson meant. Like all the other Jews, Jesus went to the synagogue on Saturday mornings. One Saturday when he and his disciples were in the town of Capernaum they went to the service as usual. When the time came to explain the lesson, Jesus went up to the front. He surprised the people as he always did; but something else happened which surprised them even more. There was suddenly a great commotion at the back of the synagogue. A man began to cry out. There seemed to be some evil thing inside him, which made him hate the very sight of Jesus. The people said that he had "an unclean spirit." Strange, wild words came pouring out of the man's mouth. "Let me alone!" he cried. "What have I to do with you, Jesus of Nazareth? Have you come to destroy me? I know who you are. You are the Holy One of God!" Jesus stood his ground, and spoke to the evil thing in the man. [Illustration] "Be quiet," Jesus said, "and come out of that man." There was another wild shriek and then silence. The man looked around him as though he wondered where he was. He was in his right mind again. The people were amazed by what they had seen and heard. On the way home from the synagogue they asked each other, "What kind of preaching is this, which makes a madman well again?" Before the day was over, word of what Jesus had done had gone all over town. After the service, Jesus went to Simon's house, and there he found more trouble waiting for him. Simon's wife's mother was sick in bed. Jesus went to her bed-side, and took her hand, and helped her to her feet. All at once the sickness left her, and she was able to prepare the meal. Jesus could rest in the afternoon, but when the sun went down in the evening he had to go to work again. Everyone had heard of how he cured people who were out of their minds, and of how he was able to heal the sick. As long as the Sabbath lasted, the people had to stay quietly at home. But once the sun had set the Sabbath was over, and they could do as they pleased. It seemed as though the whole town wanted to do only one thing, and that was to go to see Jesus. A great throng of sick people were soon gathered outside the door of the house, with everyone else in Capernaum looking on. Jesus came out to heal the sick. Darkness fell, and night came on, and still the people pressed around Jesus to have him touch them and make them well. Hour after hour he worked with them, until it was too late to do anything more that night. Yet Jesus was out of bed in the morning before the sun was up. It had been a busy Sabbath, and he needed to go off by himself and rest. And what he needed more than anything else was to pray. He wanted to be alone for a while with his Father. So many people to preach to! So many men who had begun to hate him! Jesus needed strength for it all, and he knew that praying would make him strong. While everyone else was sleeping, and the darkness still lay upon the land, Jesus silently slipped away from the house. He found a lonely place, where no one would disturb him. But when Simon and the other disciples woke up, they could not wait for him to come back. They went at once to look for him. And when they had found him, they said, "Everyone is looking for you." It was quiet out there in the hills. Jesus would have liked to stay there for the whole day. All day long he could have rested and prayed. But then he thought of the people who were waiting for him. He thought of the people who needed him. He thought of the places he had not yet visited. There was so much to do, and there was so little time. [Illustration] He rose to his feet. "Let us go, then," he said. "Let us go to the next towns, so that I can preach in them too. After all, that is why I came into the world--to tell men the good news from God!" He left the quiet countryside, and went back to the towns. The people who loved him were there. The people who needed him were there. And the people who were afraid of him, and the people who had begun to hate him--they too were there. Jesus returned to the towns, where his friends and his foes were waiting. [Illustration] [Illustration] 6. Friends and Foes Jesus thought the time had come to visit Nazareth. Before he had gone away, there was nobody who thought that he was a person of any great importance. But he had become a famous man. The whole of Galilee was talking about him. And now he was at home with his friends and family again. On the Sabbath morning he went to the old familiar synagogue. There was a full congregation that day, for everyone supposed that Jesus would preach. He had never preached in Nazareth before. When the time came to read the Scripture lesson, Jesus walked up to the front. He took the roll from the minister, and found the place he wanted. It was in the book of the Prophet Isaiah. He began to read: "The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to preach good news to the poor; he has sent me to heal the broken-hearted, to preach liberty to the prisoners and recovering of sight to the blind, to set free those who suffer, and to say that God will be good to his people." Jesus stopped reading and handed the roll back to the minister. He sat down in the seat from which Jewish preachers always spoke to the people in the synagogue. The whole congregation was very still, waiting to hear what Jesus had to say. That was an exciting lesson he had read from the Scriptures. It made the people think of the Messiah. Someday a preacher would be able to say, "This has all come true!" And that would mean that the Messiah had come. Jesus looked around at the faces he knew so well. Thirty years he had lived among these people. Now he was back to tell them something that they had never known before. He began to speak. "Today," he said, "you are seeing this Scripture lesson come true." [Illustration] A thrill ran through the audience. The Scripture had come true? The Messiah was really here? Could he mean that _he_ was the Messiah? The people gasped. Some laughed. Others were angry. They started to talk among themselves. "The Messiah? Him? Why, that's only Jesus! The carpenter's son!" "Everybody knows who Jesus is! Lived down the street since I don't know when!" "Who does he think he is?" Jesus again raised his voice above the others': "I know what you are going to say. You are going to quote that old saying, 'Doctor, cure yourself.' You are going to tell me to start doing the things I am supposed to have done in Capernaum. I'm not surprised. A servant of God never gets any honor among his own people. The same thing happened to the prophets long ago. "Don't expect me to do anything wonderful here in Nazareth. You wouldn't believe it if you saw it. Why do you think you ought to get any special favors from God?" A great roar went up from the congregation. All his old friends got up from their seats and rushed to the front of the synagogue. They took hold of Jesus and dragged him out of the building. At the edge of the town there was a high cliff, and they took him there to throw him down on the rocks below. But Jesus slipped out of their hands, and turned around. Calmly he walked through the crowd. Nobody had the courage to touch him again. Jesus never went back to Nazareth any more. Once, when he was preaching in another town, someone came and told him that his mother and his brothers had come to take him home. They thought that he ought to stop this nonsense of pretending to be the Messiah. But Jesus would not go home with them, for they did not believe in him. It was better to stay with his disciples. He was at home with those who trusted him. "My mother?" he said. "My brothers?" He looked around at his disciples, and said: "These are my mother and brothers--my own disciples. Anybody who obeys the will of God is my brother and my sister and my mother, all in one. That's the kind of family I want!" * * * * * Back in Nazareth nobody thought that Jesus was of much account. But in other places he meant everything to people who needed help. The Pharisees were often glad to see him go away. But the poor and the sick could never see enough of him. Once there came to Jesus a man who was sick with the dreaded leprosy. A leper's skin was deathly white, and his flesh was rotting, and he was sure to die of the disease. Nobody needed help more than a leper did, but no one would even touch him. The people back in Nazareth were too proud to admit that the carpenter's son from down the street might be the Messiah. But a leper did not have any pride. This leper came to Jesus, and fell on his face before him, crying out, "Lord, if you will do it, you can make me clean from this disease!" [Illustration] Then Jesus did what everybody else was afraid to do. He reached down and put his hand on the sick man, and said: "I will. Be clean." At once the man was healed of his leprosy. Jesus told him to go and give thanks to God, and not to tell anyone what had happened. But the leper could not help telling. Jesus became still more famous as the man who healed the sick. Another time he made a blind man see again. The Pharisees tried to get this man to say that the person who cured him had not been sent from God. But the man who had been blind knew better. When the Pharisees tried to threaten him, he did not give an inch. He said: "Who ever heard of anyone opening the eyes of the blind since the world began? But this man did it. How could he have made me see, if he hadn't come from God?" When Jesus heard of this, he went and found the man who had been blind, and asked him, "Do you believe that I am the Son of God?" The man answered, "Yes, Lord, I believe." The blind man had found his Messiah. Then there was a man who was paralyzed so that he could not move. His friends wanted to bring him to Jesus, but there were so many people standing around the house where Jesus was teaching that they could not get near him. But somehow or other they must get the sick man there. Like many of the houses in Palestine, this house had a flat roof, with a stairway leading up to it. They placed their friend on a mat, carried him up the stairs, and cut a hole in the roof. After fastening a rope to each corner of the mat, they gently lowered it to the floor, right at Jesus' feet. Jesus was glad when he saw the faith they had in him. He looked at the helpless man, and said, "Man, your sins are forgiven you." There were scribes and Pharisees standing there, waiting, as usual, to find fault with Jesus. They began to talk among themselves. They said: "Who is this who is talking as if he were God? Such blasphemy! Who can forgive sins, except God himself?" But Jesus knew what they were saying, and he answered them: "Which do you think is easier--to say, 'Your sins are forgiven you,' or to say to this man, 'Pick up your mat and walk away'? I will show you that I can do one as well as the other!" He turned to the paralyzed man and said, "Pick up your mat, and go on back to your house." The sick man got up from the floor, rolled up the mat and put it under his arm, and went home. As he walked, there was a song of praise to God in his heart. And many of the people who saw what had happened were so surprised that they did not know whether to be glad or to be afraid. But they all agreed on one thing. They said, "We have seen strange things today!" [Illustration] Nothing that Jesus did seemed to please the Pharisees. But there was one thing that made them especially angry. He was not so careful as they thought he ought to be about keeping the Law. Now the Law meant everything to the Pharisees. They were so much in earnest about keeping God's Law that they were not satisfied with what was in the Scriptures. They followed many rules which had been made up since the Scriptures were written. Unless a man kept all these rules, it did not matter to the Pharisees how much good he did. Jesus was always getting into trouble with them about the Sabbath. The Pharisees had a list of thirty-nine different kinds of work that nobody was allowed to do on the Sabbath Day. This list included so much that unless a Jew was careful, he would be likely to break the Sabbath without even knowing it. If he tied a knot that could be untied with one hand, that was all right; but if he took two hands to untie it, then he had broken the Sabbath. He even had to be careful about sitting in a chair, for if he happened to drag his chair across the dirt floor the Pharisees said that he was plowing, which was a great sin on the Sabbath Day. It was forbidden to make a fire on the Sabbath. And so, if a woman wanted hot food, she had to cook it the day before, and keep it warm. But that did not mean that she could set it on a stove. For the stove might get hotter than it was, and make the food hotter, and that was just the same as making a fire. The only safe way to keep a meal hot was to wrap the dishes in cloth or pigeon feathers. Jesus did not think that rules like this were what the Scriptures meant when they said, "Remember the sabbath day, to keep it holy." He did not think that this was the way to honor God. And because Jesus did not agree with them about the Sabbath, the Pharisees were always watching for a chance to put him in the wrong. Once, when Jesus and his disciples were walking through a field of grain on the Sabbath Day, the Pharisees saw that the disciples were eating some of the grain. There was nothing wrong with eating it, if they were hungry. But the trouble was that in order to get the grain they had to pluck the ears. That, said the Pharisees, was harvesting! Moreover, they had to take the ripe ears and rub them in their hands to get rid of the chaff. The Pharisees thought that that was just the same as threshing! Such things to do on the Sabbath Day! The Pharisees stopped the disciples, and demanded to know why they were doing something that was against the Law. [Illustration] It was really Jesus with whom they wanted to pick a quarrel, and so Jesus answered for the disciples: "Why, you must have read in the Scriptures that King David and his soldiers once went into the Temple and ate some of the holy bread which only a priest is allowed to eat. Surely if David could do a thing like that, my disciples can pick a few ears of grain in a field! "You don't understand what the Sabbath is for," Jesus went on. "We aren't supposed to be slaves to the Sabbath; this day is meant to do us good. The Sabbath was made for man; man was not made for the Sabbath." Then he added something else, which took the Pharisees by surprise: "The Son of man is Lord also of the Sabbath." They were puzzled. Jesus was talking again as though he was the Messiah. So far as the Pharisees could see, Jesus was just a preacher who broke the Law. The Pharisees began to watch him still more carefully. They found another chance to get him into trouble soon after this. Jesus had gone into the synagogue to teach, and in the synagogue was a man whose hand was withered and useless. On any other day there was no doubt that Jesus would heal this man. But this was the Sabbath, and it was against the Law to heal anybody on that day unless he were in danger of dying. A man with a withered hand could wait another day. Surely even Jesus would not dare to break the rules again! Jesus knew that they were watching to see what he would do. They would never forgive him if he made a move to heal this man. He called out to the man, "Stand up--up here, in front of everybody!" When the man had come to the front, Jesus turned to the Pharisees. "I am going to ask you something," he said. "If any one of you owned a sheep, and it fell into a pit on the Sabbath, wouldn't you lift it out? And don't you think that a man is worth more than a sheep? You say that it is against the Law to heal a man on the Sabbath. _I_ say that it is _always_ right to do good to somebody, on the Sabbath just the same as any other day!" He looked around at the whole crowd. He was angry now. Would they actually let a man suffer one day more than was necessary? He turned back to the man with the useless hand. "Stretch out your hand!" he commanded. And when he spoke, the withered hand was healed, and made as good as the other one. The Pharisees went out of the synagogue, and their faces were hard with anger. "He has gone too far!" they said to one another. "He is breaking all our good rules. It is not safe for the country to have him around. He ought to die!" [Illustration] They really meant it. They thought they were doing the right thing. They were afraid of what Jesus would do. The Pharisees even called in some of their enemies to ask their advice about the best way to get rid of Jesus. Meanwhile Jesus had gone out of the city to be alone again. On a lonely mountain, under the moon-light, he prayed to his Father all night long. Back in the city men were planning to take his life. And out on the mountain Jesus prayed for power to do good to men. [Illustration] [Illustration] 7. Slow to Understand Not all the Pharisees treated Jesus as an enemy. There was one of them, named Simon, who decided to have Jesus come to his house for dinner. Perhaps Simon thought that the other Pharisees were too hard on Jesus. Perhaps he thought that he might show Jesus where he was wrong. Or perhaps he was just curious. Jesus had become very well known, and many people called him "Rabbi" or "Teacher." It would be interesting to talk with the famous rabbi all afternoon. Whatever the reason was, Simon asked Jesus to come and have a meal with him and his friends. While they were eating their dinner, a woman stole in quietly through the open door. She had not been invited. Simon would never have dreamed of inviting her into his house, for everyone in town gave her a bad name. "She's not a good woman--not a nice woman at all," people said. They turned their eyes away when they met her on the street. At any other time the woman would not have wanted to come to Simon's home, for no one likes to be stared at coldly and be put out of the house. But today was different. Jesus was there. She brought with her a box of ointment. Ointment was the gift that Jewish people brought, when they wanted to honor an important person or some dear friend. Clutching her box of ointment, the woman crept across the room to where Jesus was sitting. She began to cry. The tears rolled down her cheeks and dropped on Jesus' hot, dusty feet. Then she wiped his feet with her hair and kissed them. She opened her precious box and began to rub his feet with the soft white salve. No one spoke or moved. Simon was angry and disappointed with Jesus. The other Pharisees were right after all! _So this is the great new prophet, sent from God!_ he thought to himself. _If Jesus were a prophet, we shouldn't be looking at a scene like this. He would know what kind of woman that is who is touching him. Why, everybody knows how bad she is!_ Jesus did not need to be told what Simon was thinking. Still sitting there, while the woman clung to his feet, Jesus spoke. "Simon, I have something to say to you." "Yes, Rabbi?" Simon replied. "What is it?" "Let me tell you a story," Jesus said. "There was once a moneylender who had two men owing him money. One of them owed him five hundred dollars, the other owed him fifty. Neither of them had anything with which to pay him back, so the moneylender told them both to forget about the debt--that they didn't need to pay. Now tell me--which of those two men will love the moneylender most?" Simon answered, "Why, I suppose the man who owed him the most." "That's right," Jesus replied. "Now, Simon," he went on, "look at this woman. When I came to your house today, you didn't even give me any water to wash the sand off my feet, though that is what is done in friendly homes. But this woman has washed my feet with her own tears, and dried them with the hair of her head. You have scarcely been polite to me; but this woman has done nothing but kiss my feet. You never thought of putting ordinary olive oil on my head; but this woman has put precious ointment on my feet. "You think this woman is a great sinner," Jesus continued, "and so she is. She has done many things that are wrong. But her sins have been forgiven her. I have brought her to a new life, and she doesn't have to worry any more about the sins of the past. That is why she loves me so much. But, of course, a person who hasn't had his sins forgiven isn't going to know much about love." Jesus turned away from Simon. He might have added: "A cold Pharisee like you, so sure that nothing is wrong with you, is a great deal worse off than this poor, sinful woman. You have got all your sins still to worry about, and you don't even know it!" But Jesus did not say it. He left Simon to think that out for himself. Instead, he spoke to the woman, "Your sins are forgiven." The other people in the room began to mutter to themselves: "There he goes--forgiving sins again! What right has he to forgive anybody's sins?" But Jesus paid no attention. He spoke once more to the woman at his feet: "Your faith in me has saved you," he said. "Everything is all right now. Go in peace." That was the end of the dinner party at Simon's house. But it was not the end of the talk and gossip about the kind of friends that Jesus made. Some thought he must be bad himself because he had so much to do with people to whom the Pharisees would not even speak. Everywhere he went, there was the same complaint. Time and time again Jesus tried to explain why he was more interested in sinners than in anyone else. Why, the people that the Pharisees despised were the very people who needed his love the most! What could be better than to save somebody from an evil life? Jesus told story after story, to show the Pharisees what he meant. One time he said: "Suppose a shepherd had a hundred sheep, and one sheep strayed away from the others and got lost. Would he not leave the other ninety-nine, and go after the lost sheep until he found it? And when he did find it, he would pick it up and carry it joyfully home. Then he would go around and tell all his friends and neighbors. He would say: 'Rejoice with me! For I have found my sheep that was lost.' "Or suppose a woman had ten silver coins, and dropped one of them on the floor. Wouldn't she light a candle and sweep the floor and look everywhere until she found it? Then she would say to her friends and neighbors: 'Rejoice with me! For I have found the coin that I lost!' "In the same way," Jesus said, "God is more pleased over one sinful person who stops sinning than over all the others who think they have never sinned." The Pharisees still did not get the point. So Jesus tried again with another story. He said: "A certain man had two sons. One day the younger son said, 'Father, give me my share of the property which is coming to me,' So the father gave each of the sons his share. "Then the younger son packed up his belongings, and went away to a far country. There he spent all his money foolishly. After his money was gone, this young man had nothing left to live on. He went to work for a farmer, who sent him out to feed the pigs. He was so hungry that he would have been glad to eat the pigs' food, but no one gave him anything. "Then one day he said to himself: 'What a fool I am! Why am I staying here?' He thought of how even the servants at home had plenty to eat, while he was starving to death. He said: 'I will go back to my father, and tell him that I have sinned against him and against God. I will tell him that I am not worthy to be his son, and ask him to give me work as one of his servants.' "So he went home. But before he reached the house, his father saw him coming, and ran out to welcome him. The young man started to say, 'I have sinned, and I am not worthy to be your son.' But his father called out to a servant: 'Bring the best clothes in the house, and shoes for my boy's feet. Then kill the fattest calf we have, and get a feast ready. My son is back, and we are going to celebrate!' "Meanwhile, the older brother was out in the field. When he came home, he heard music and dancing in the house. He asked a servant why they were having a party. When he was told, he became very angry. He would not even go into the house. When his father came out to ask him to join the party, the older brother said: 'All these years I have stayed at home and helped you! I did everything you told me to. In all that time you never once gave me a party. But when my brother comes back from spending your money--why, nothing is too good for him!' "But the father answered him kindly. 'Son,' he said, 'you are always with me, and everything I have is yours. It is right that we should celebrate, and be happy. For it is as if your brother had been dead, and now he is alive again. He was lost, and now he is found.'" [Illustration] [Illustration] The days went by. Some days were good, and some were bad. Once in a while Jesus would find somebody who seemed to understand him and believe in him. Then again it would seem that he was failing in what he tried to do. The time he healed the Roman officer's servant was one of the good days. Jesus was just coming back to Capernaum after preaching out in the country, when this officer approached him. Although he was a Roman, and the captain of a company of Roman soldiers, this man was well liked in Capernaum. For he had built the Jews a synagogue, and everyone knew that he loved the Jewish people. He came to Jesus, and said, "Lord, my servant is lying at home, very sick and suffering greatly." Jesus replied at once, "I will come and heal him." But the officer shook his head. "Lord," he said, "I am not worthy that you should come into my house. Just speak a word, standing here, and that will heal my servant. You see, I have an army under me. I say to a soldier, 'Come here,' and he comes. I tell my servant to do something, and he does it right away. You have that kind of power too. You just have to say that my servant shall be healed, and he _will_ be healed." Jesus was joyful when he heard these words. To those who were standing around he said: "I tell you, I have not found among the Jewish people anyone who believes in me so much as this Roman does! And I tell you this too: When you talk about the Kingdom of God you shouldn't think that God has no place in it for anyone except Jews. God is going to bring together people from every country, everybody who has faith like this officer's faith. And some of the Jews may find themselves outside the Kingdom looking in!" Then he turned to the officer and said: "Go back to your house. You have had faith in me, and I will give you what you ask." When the officer went home, he found that his servant had recovered from his illness while Jesus was speaking. That was one of the good days, when Jesus found a new believer. But a bad day came, when Jesus found that his oldest friend had begun to lose faith in him. John the Baptist was not sure any longer that Jesus was the Messiah. And John was in trouble. He had preached against King Herod, the son of the king who had died when Jesus was a baby. Herod married another man's wife, and John the Baptist said that this was a sin. Herod threw John into jail. As John lay in his prison cell day after day, he began to wonder about Jesus. Had he been wrong in thinking that Jesus was the Messiah? Jesus did not seem to have done very much as yet. The Romans were still in the country. The rich people were as bad as they had always been, and the poor were just as poor. At last John could not stand it any longer. When two of his followers visited him in jail, he sent them to ask Jesus who he really was. "Ask him," said John, "'Are you or are you not the Messiah?'" John's followers found Jesus busy healing the sick. They drew him aside, and told him what John wanted to know. "Are you the One who was to come," they asked, "or must we look for somebody else?" So even John the Baptist had his doubts! John, the man who had said that he was not worthy to baptize Jesus; the same John who once called Jesus the Lamb of God! [Illustration] Jesus pointed to the crowd of people whom he had been healing, and he said to John's disciples: "Go back and tell John what you have seen and heard here. Tell him I am doing what I can. Tell him how the blind are getting back their sight. Tell him too, how the lame are learning to walk, and how the lepers are being cured. Tell him that I am preaching to the poor. Tell him all about what I am doing, and let him decide for himself whether or not I am the Messiah. And tell him this: Blessed is anyone who believes in me, and takes me just as I am!" Jesus never heard what John thought of this message. For John did not live much longer. One night King Herod gave a birthday party, and a pretty girl danced so well that the king offered to give her anything she asked. The girl went to her mother, to find out what she ought to say. Her mother hated John the Baptist because he had spoken the truth, and so she told her daughter: "Ask for the head of John the Baptist to be brought in here on a platter!" [Illustration] The girl went to the king, and asked for John's head. The king was sorry then that he had made that promise, for he was half afraid of John. However, he had to keep his word. And so he sent servants to the prison, and they cut off the head of John the Baptist with a sword, and brought it back to the palace on a platter. When Jesus heard what had happened, he felt very sad. He said, "Let us go out to some quiet place, and rest awhile." [Illustration] Things were not going very well. John the Baptist was dead, and Herod might be planning to kill Jesus next. Some men, in fact, came one day to warn him to get out of Herod's kingdom. "Go and tell that fox," he said, "that I am busy curing the sick and conquering evil, and neither Herod nor anybody else is going to stop me until I have finished my work!" But things were going badly, just the same. Jesus saw that there were not many of the people who understood his message or knew who he was. A few believed in him, but others soon lost interest in him, if they ever cared at all. Only once in a long while did he see any results from all his work. He explained this in one of his stories when he said: "A farmer went out to sow his seed. As he sowed, some of the seed fell in the pathway, and people walked on it, or the birds ate it up. Some fell on a rock, and this seed began to grow; but no sooner had it sprung up than it died, because it did not have deep roots. Some fell among thornbushes; and the thorns grew faster than the seed, and choked it. But some of the seed fell on good ground, and there it grew into a good harvest." When the disciples were alone with him, they asked Jesus to tell them what this story meant. He said that the seed stood for the words that he spoke to them. Some people heard him, but they soon forgot what he said. That was like seed falling on the pathway. Others were very excited about what he said when they first heard it, but when it was hard to do what he told them they soon gave up trying. That was like seed falling on a rock, where there was no soil or water to give it root. Then there were some who cared more about money and pleasure than they cared about God. That was like seed being choked by thorns. But some people heard Jesus preach; and they believed in him, with good and honest hearts, and they were faithful. That was when his preaching brought results, and it was like seed falling on good rich earth. "Unless people have faith in me," said Jesus, "they will never understand God. They will see the things I do, and never even know what they are looking at. They will listen to me, and never know what they are hearing. I can do nothing with them. But you--my disciples--you have faith in me. You will understand everything someday." The disciples were going to be good ground for the seed that Jesus sowed. [Illustration] [Illustration] [Illustration] 8. Jesus Is Strong That night Jesus said to the disciples, "Let us go across the lake." Simon and Andrew and James and John were fishermen. They knew where to get a boat, and they knew how to sail it too. All twelve disciples, along with Jesus, climbed into a boat and pushed away from shore. The Sea of Galilee was a lovely blue lake in the daytime, when the sunlight sparkled on the water. In the evening it was lovely too, when the waves were lapping peacefully against the side of a boat, and the stars came out twinkling overhead. But the Sea of Galilee was not always so lovely or so peaceful. Sometimes the wind came roaring down the steep banks around the lake, and the water grew white and angry. Then again everything might be calm and quiet when a boat left the land. But before it had gone very far a storm might be howling all around. It would toss the boat around like driftwood, and then it would be too late to turn back to shore. Some of the disciples were fishermen, and they had fished here all their lives. They knew what the sudden storms were like. It was no surprise to them when the stars disappeared as though the rising wind had blown them out. They knew what was coming now. The night would grow black as ink, and the great foaming waves would smash against the ship and fill it up with water. There was nothing anyone could do about it. Nobody could sail or row or steer the boat any longer. Only God himself could bring the poor sailors safe to shore. The sea was rough already, and getting rougher every minute. They were afraid. They were always afraid of the sea when storms began to blow. It was so big and dangerous and terrible, and men were so small and weak! It was like a frightful monster, tossing them up and down before it swallowed them alive. If only they had stayed on the good, safe land! They had been so worried and so tired that night; so discouraged about Jesus and his work. And now there was this storm on top of everything! It looked as if none of them would live to see another day. They had left their homes and families behind, to follow Jesus. What was the use of following Jesus if they were all to be drowned? Now the boat was full of water. They tried to bail it out, but the fishermen knew that nothing they could do would be of any use. In the dark they could hardly see one another's faces. Where was Jesus? No one had heard a word from him since the storm began to blow. They found him at the back of the boat, just where he was when they left the shore. He was stretched out on a seat, resting on a pillow. And he was fast asleep! The disciples were angry. Any minute now the boat was going to turn over, and there was Jesus sleeping as though nothing in the world were wrong! One of the men took Jesus by the shoulders, and shook him awake. They shouted at him, "Master, doesn't it matter to you if we are all drowned?" Jesus rose to his feet in the tossing boat. The wind blew in his face, and he seemed to be answering it. The sea smashed against the boat again, and Jesus cried out, "Peace, be still!" All at once the wind began to die away. The waves tossed for a minute or two longer, but not so strongly now. Everything was growing quiet. The stars began to shine again, and soon there was no sound but the water lapping gently against the boat. Jesus spoke to the disciples: "Why were you so frightened? How is it that you still haven't any faith in me?" But the disciples scarcely noticed what he was saying. They were more afraid than ever. This time it was not the sea that frightened them. They were afraid of Jesus. They said to one another: "What kind of man is this? When he speaks, even the wind and the sea obey him!" [Illustration] In the morning they brought their little boat to land on the other side of the lake. Over here in the country of the Gadarenes, Galilee seemed very far away. A high cliff rose above the sea. Jesus and the disciples climbed up and looked around. There was nothing much to see except some men feeding a herd of pigs. In the distance was a graveyard. Suddenly a man came running out of the graveyard. He was naked, and his body was covered with cuts and bruises. The man was out of his mind, and he lived by himself in the graveyard, and wandered through the mountains. Other people had often tried to chain him up, but he was so strong that he broke the chains as if they were made of string. He could be heard crying out, day and night, and he was always cutting himself with sharp stones. No one dared to go near him. The madman ran toward Jesus, shouting at him. His words were like those of the other madman who had interrupted Jesus in the synagogue service. "What have I to do with you, Jesus? What have I to do with the Son of the most high God? Don't torment me!" Jesus said to him, "What is your name?" The man answered: "My name is Legion. There's a whole legion of devils inside me!" The disciples were meanwhile listening in horror. There was something evil in this man, something as dreadful as the storm of the night before. They heard Jesus say: "Come out of the man!" Then they seemed to hear many Voices crying out, and calling to Jesus, and pleading with him. And they heard Jesus say, "Go!" The wild look left the man's eyes. And at that very moment the pigs went wild. The man was in his right mind now, but it seemed as though the pigs had gone crazy. With a great snorting and squealing they ran to the cliff and plunged into the sea. After that everything was quiet. It was as quiet as it had been when Jesus stilled the storm. The evil thing was gone. The morning sun was shining brightly on a peaceful countryside. There was nothing dreadful any more. But what they had seen was too much for the men who had been feeding the pigs. As fast as their legs would take them they ran to the nearest town and told everybody what had happened. The people came flocking out of the town to see for themselves. When they came they found the madman sitting there talking to Jesus. He had put on his clothes, and he was just as sensible as anybody else. The people had been terribly afraid of the madman, but now they were afraid of Jesus. They had tied this man up with chains, and still they could not hold him. Yet here was a stranger from Galilee who cured the madman with a few words. _What kind of man is this?_ they thought. _What kind of power does he have?_ [Illustration] They were so worried about what Jesus might do next that they asked him to leave the country. Without a word Jesus took his disciples back to the boat. The man who had been out of his mind followed him, and asked if he might go along. But Jesus told him: "No, you have work to do here. Go back home to your friends. Tell them what the Lord has done for you." The man went back to the city, and began to tell his story. The story went abroad through that whole country, and everyone who heard it was amazed. * * * * * For the disciples it had been a night and day of wonders. But as they sailed home across the lake they did not know that an even greater triumph was waiting for Jesus on the other side. As their boat drew near to land, they saw a crowd standing on the shore. Everyone had been watching anxiously, waiting for Jesus to come. When Jesus stepped ashore, the waiting crowd made way for a man who was well known in the town. His name was Jairus, and he was the chief officer of the synagogue. Jairus fell down at Jesus' feet and began to plead with him to come to his house at once: "My little girl is dying. Please come and put your hands on her, and heal her, and make her live!" [Illustration] Jesus went with Jairus, and the whole crowd followed to see what he was going to do. As they walked along the street, with people pressing in on them from every side, Jesus suddenly stopped and said, "Who touched my clothes?" The disciples could not imagine what he was talking about. They said to him: "Why, don't you see the crowd? Everybody is touching you! What do you mean by asking, 'Who touched my clothes?'" But Jesus answered: "There's someone in particular who touched me. I felt power going out of me." With that, a poor woman came out of the crowd and fell down in front of Jesus. She was trembling with fear. She told him her whole story. For twelve years she had been sick. She had spent all her money on doctors, and she never got any better. She thought that if only she could touch his clothes, without anyone seeing her, she would be made well. Jesus looked at her kindly, and said: "Your faith has made you well. Go in peace." Meanwhile Jairus was waiting impatiently for Jesus to come along. Soon it might be too late! At that very moment a message came from Jairus' house. The worst had happened. The little girl had died, and there was no use troubling Jesus. Already it was too late. But before Jairus could speak, Jesus took him by the arm and said: "Don't be afraid. Just keep on believing." He sent the crowd away, and told the disciples that none of them could come with him except Simon and James and John. Jairus led the way to his house. When they got there they found that the bad news was true. The little girl had really died. Already the flute players, who played at funerals in Palestine, had arrived. Everyone was mourning and weeping. Jesus spoke sharply to the mourners. "Why are you making all this fuss?" he asked. "The little girl isn't dead. She is only sleeping." Everyone laughed at him, as though he were a fool. "So he doesn't know the difference between being asleep and being dead," they said to themselves. But Jesus told them to get out of the house. When they were gone he took Jairus and his wife, and the three disciples, and went into the little girl's room. There could be no doubt about it--the girl was dead. She was lying white and cold and still. No doctor in the world could ever help her again. Jesus bent over the still body, and opened his mouth to speak. Simon and James and John held their breath. Not many hours before, they had heard him say to the sea, "Peace, be still." When he spoke, the sea obeyed him. They heard him speak to a madman, and after he spoke the man was in his right mind again. But what use would it be to speak to someone who was dead? The dead could not hear him! Or could they hear him? Had Jesus not once told them, "The dead hear my voice"? [Illustration] The little girl did not know anything. She did not hear anything. She could not know or hear anything, for she was dead. Then a voice came through the silence. The little girl began to hear someone talking. It was a man's voice, and it was saying the very words her mother used each morning to wake her up from sleep. "Little girl, get up!" she heard. She opened her eyes. She looked into the face of Jesus. He took her hand, and helped her to her feet. Her parents were there too. She went to them. "Give her something to eat," said Jesus. "And say nothing about what has happened." But no one could keep a secret like that. Soon everyone had heard the story. Everybody heard how Jesus spoke and brought the dead back to life. [Illustration] 9. Refusing a Crown Up until this time, Jesus had done all the preaching, and the disciples had listened. Jesus had healed the sick, and the disciples had watched. Now, however, Jesus told the disciples that it was time for them to work also. He called the twelve together, and said: "I am going to send you out in my place. You are to divide up into pairs. Each pair will go and preach in the towns and villages. You will tell the people what you have heard me say--that God has come to the earth to rule over men's hearts. When you see people who are sick or out of their minds, you are to make them well, just as you have seen me do." [Illustration] He told them plainly what they were to do. "Don't take any money with you," Jesus said, "and don't ask for money from anybody. Don't take many clothes, either; you are to travel quickly, and attend to your work, without worrying about money or clothes. You will be taken care of." "When you go into a city or a village, find some family that will welcome a preacher; and stay in that home until you go to the next place. If nobody will listen to you, go somewhere else. But before you go, warn the people in the place which you are leaving that they have sinned by not paying attention to God's message." So the disciples went out and preached as Jesus told them. They healed the sick, as Jesus did. [Illustration] The trip was a great success. After many days the disciples began to come back home, with many stories about their experiences. When they were all with Jesus again, they sat down and told him everything they had said and done. Jesus listened to their stories, and then he said: "It is time for you to take a rest. Come with me to some lonely place where nobody will disturb us for a while." They got into their boat, and sailed up to a quiet place they knew of, near the town of Bethsaida. But they got no chance to rest after all, for the people at Capernaum saw them leaving. "There go Jesus and his disciples!" somebody said. "They're heading for Bethsaida!" A crowd of people began to walk around the shore of the lake. As they went, others joined them from the towns and countryside round about. Jesus was the most popular man in Galilee just then. Wherever he went, he might be sure that a crowd would follow him. The people walked and ran, and by hurrying they reached the quiet spot near Bethsaida as soon as Jesus did. When he stepped out of the boat, thousands of people were waiting for him on the shore. Jesus had gone away for a rest, but when he saw the people he felt sorry for them. _They are like a flock of sheep_, he thought--_a flock of sheep with no shepherd to look after them._ They had spoiled his holiday, but Jesus spoke to the people and said that he was glad to see them. Then he began to teach, just as he did in the cities and towns. All day long he taught, and if there were any who were sick, he healed them. The day wore on, and evening was drawing near. One or two of the disciples pulled Jesus' sleeve, and said to him: "Master, it is getting late. Hadn't you better send them away to find something to eat in the towns near by? There is nothing for them out here in the country." Jesus answered: "There is no need for them to go away. Give them something to eat right here!" The disciples looked at him as if they did not know whether he was serious or not. They said: "Do you mean that you want us to go and buy food for all these people? Where would we get enough money for that?" Andrew said: "There's a boy here with five loaves of bread and a couple of fishes. But how far will that go among five thousand people?" Jesus only answered, "Tell them to sit down on the grass." The disciples went among the crowd, and had the people sit down in groups, fifty in each group. Jesus took the five loaves and the two fishes, and as he held them, he said a prayer of thanks to God. Then he broke the loaves, and gave the bread and the fish to the disciples and told them to pass the food around among the crowd. They passed it here and they passed it there, but they never ran out of food. Nobody could tell where it was coming from, but there was enough for everyone and some left over. The people were hungry after their long walk and the hours of standing in the sun. They ate heartily. As they finished their meal, they began to think about what had happened. "Where did all this food come from?" they began to ask themselves. "Where did Jesus get all that food?" "There were but five loaves and a couple of fishes and yet we have all had enough and to spare!" [Illustration] The crowd began to talk in excited voices. "Jesus gave us this food." "A wonderful thing! He gave us food to eat, when there wasn't anything here!" "Why, this is just the man we have been looking for!" "There's the man to make the Jews strong and rich--he makes food out of nothing!" The people were rising to their feet. "Make him a king!" they started to cry. "Jesus is the man to be king of the Jews!" they shouted. "We want our king!" But Jesus was not there any longer. Jesus had gone; he had slipped away through the crowd and disappeared. Even the disciples did not know where he was. He stayed alone in the mountains until long after dark. Those foolish people! That foolish, foolish crowd! They did not understand him at all. Did they never think of anything except their stomachs? Jesus remembered how the devil had once tempted him in the wilderness. What was it that the devil had said? "If you are the Messiah, make these stones into bread." Yes, all the people would be for him so long as he gave them something to eat. They would even make him a king, if they thought he was the man to get rid of the Romans and make the country free and rich and great. Why, they had offered to make Jesus a king that very day! They said that he was just the man they had been waiting for! But that was not what Jesus had come to do. He did not want to be that kind of king. It was soon to be Passover time. Many years ago, at Passover time, Jesus had been a boy at the Temple in Jerusalem, watching as the lambs were killed for a sacrifice. A year from now it would be Passover again. And then it would be time to go to Jerusalem once more. He would go to Jerusalem, and he would be the King of the Jews. Then he would do what he always knew that he would have to do someday. * * * * * When Jesus came back to Capernaum, he gathered his band of disciples together and took them away again. This time he took them so far away that no one would follow them. No one wanted very much to follow, anyway, for the people were hurt and angry because Jesus would not be their king. Jesus led the disciples away to the north, into the country near Caesarea Philippi. Here one of the rivers that flowed into the Jordan came springing out of a cave in a hill. Here too the Greek people round about had built temples for their heathen gods. Jesus wanted to be alone with his disciples, for the time had come to have an important talk. He said to them: "Who do people say that I am?" The disciples answered: "Some people say that you are John the Baptist, come back from the dead. Others say that you are Elijah, or Jeremiah, or one of the other prophets come back to earth. Everyone thinks that you are a great man." [Illustration] "But who do _you_ say that I am?" Jesus asked. There was silence. Then Simon spoke up: "You are the Messiah--the Christ--the Son of the living God!" That was it! That was what Jesus was waiting for! His face lighted up in joy. He turned to Simon, and exclaimed: "That is the best thing that could happen to you, Simon, to find out who I am! And no human being could have told you! Only God himself can have shown you that I really am the Messiah, when nobody else believes it. And now you are going to have a new name, Simon. I am going to call you 'Peter' from now on, for the name 'Peter' means 'The Rock.' You have faith in me, and your faith is like a rock. I am going to build my Church on faith like yours, and nothing shall ever conquer it. It will be the strongest thing in all the world. "And now"--Jesus began to speak more quietly--"and now that you know who I really am, I have many things to tell you. In the first place, you must not say anything about my being the Messiah--not just yet. And this is more important: I am not going to be very popular any more. I am going up to Jerusalem, and when I get there, my enemies will plot against me and put me to death." Peter thought that this was nonsense. Everyone knew that the Messiah would not be killed like that, but would instead be a great warrior and a triumphant king. In a bold voice Peter spoke up again: "Don't be foolish. Nothing of that sort is going to happen!" Jesus turned on Peter. This time he was not joyful; he was angry. He talked to Peter in the same way he had once talked to the devil in the wilderness. He said: "Get behind me, Satan! The devil has got into you, Peter! God didn't have anything to do with what you said to me just now. You're talking like everybody else. You're weak. A man who tries to save his own life is sure to lose it. But if a man gives up his life because of me--ah, that man will really know what it means to live!" But Jesus saw that the disciples did not understand. Even Peter was losing his faith again. Somehow he must make them believe in him and trust in him. So six days later he took Peter and James and John, to whom he showed the most secret things, up into a high mountain. And there the disciples saw a marvelous vision. Jesus' face became bright as the sun, and his clothes shone like the morning light. They said afterward that Moses and Elijah, who were great among the Jews in the days of long ago, came down and talked with Jesus. Peter spoke timidly this time, for he did not know what to say. "Lord," he said, "it is good for us to be here. Let us build three tabernacles here, one for you, and one for Moses, and one for Elijah." Then a great cloud came, like a shadow, over the mountain. They heard a voice from the cloud, like the voice of God, saying: "This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased. Hear him!" The disciples fell down to the ground, and there they lay until Jesus came and touched them. At his touch they looked up, and there was no one to be seen but Jesus standing there alone. "Come away," said Jesus, "and tell nobody what you have seen." They followed him down the mountain, back to where other people were. Long afterward, they spoke of what had happened. They told of the brightness, and the beauty, and the visitors from olden days, and the voice which said that Jesus was the Son of God. But in those days they never said a word. They knew that on the mountaintop they had been with God. 10. The Way to Jerusalem Jesus had made up his mind that he would go to Jerusalem for the Passover next year. He knew that if he did he would get into trouble. The disciples knew it too, for he had told them so. There was a hard time ahead for them all. There was hardly anyone whom Jesus could count on any more. Often even the disciples did not understand him. Once in a while other people would offer to come along and be disciples too. But few actually came, after Jesus explained how much he expected his disciples to give up for his sake. There was one man who came to Jesus, and said bravely, "Lord, I will follow you wherever you go!" Jesus replied: "Even the foxes have holes in the ground to sleep in at night. The birds of the air have their nests. But I travel across the country without a home that I can call my own." The man thought of his own comfortable house, and decided he did not want to follow Jesus after all. Another time Jesus invited a man to join him. This man said that he would be glad to come, but that his father had just died, and he must first look after the funeral. That would take a long time, for the Jews loved their customs, and when anybody died they held ceremonies which lasted for many days. Jesus could not wait for this man, so he answered: [Illustration] "Let people who don't believe in me look after things like that. You have something more important to do. Your job is to go out and preach, right away. That's what you would do if you really believed in me." Still another man was willing to come, if only he could first go home and say good-by to his family. Jesus saw that this man too had not really decided to give up everything for God. He told him: "You're like a farmer who starts to plow a field, and then turns around and wonders if he shouldn't be doing something back at the house. Unless you put your whole heart into following me, I'm afraid you will never be of much use." Even some of those who used to call themselves followers of Jesus were going away. Jesus said to the twelve, who had been with him from the beginning: "Are you going to leave me too?" Peter answered: "Lord, where would we go? We should die if we did not hear your words. We believe that you are the Christ." Jesus said, "Yes, you are the men I have chosen to be with me--though there is one of _you_ who will come to a bad end." He was speaking of a disciple named Judas Iscariot, though the others did not know it. Jesus knew that Judas was not to be trusted. In those difficult days Jesus spent much of his time in prayer. The disciples felt that they also needed strength and help from God. Once, when Jesus had finished praying, they said to him, "Lord, teach us to pray, just as John the Baptist used to teach his disciples." So Jesus taught them a prayer, and this is how it went: "Our Father, which art in heaven, hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come. Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread. And forgive us our debts, as we forgive our debtors. And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil; for thine is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory, for ever. Amen." Then Jesus looked at his disciples, and told them that they ought to pray more than they did. "Suppose," he said, "one of you went to a friend's house at midnight, and called through the window, 'Lend me some bread, for company has come unexpectedly and I haven't anything in my house.' Your friend might not want to get up out of bed, but if you kept on pleading with him, he would give you what you asked for. In the same way, keep on praying to God! Prayer is like knocking on a door. Knock, and the door will be opened." Jesus knew, better than the disciples did themselves, how much they were going to need God's help. * * * * * Jesus ran into a great many trying people in the next few months. One day there was a lawyer who thought that he knew more than Jesus did. He wanted an argument which would give him a chance to show how much he knew, so he came and asked Jesus, "What should I do to have eternal life?" Jesus answered, "What does it say in the Law?" The lawyer replied, "It says, 'Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy strength, and with all thy mind; and thy neighbor as thyself.'" Jesus said: "That is right. Those are the things you ought to do." It sounded to the lawyer as though Jesus were saying, "If you knew all along, why did you need to ask me in the first place?" The lawyer thought that he would get the better of Jesus, so he replied, "Well, just who is the neighbor that I am supposed to love?" [Illustration] Jesus answered with a story: "A man was traveling on the lonely road between Jerusalem and Jericho. As so often happens there, some thieves jumped out of a hiding place, and robbed him and beat him. He was lying there half dead, when a priest from the Temple in Jerusalem came along. He took one look at the wounded man, and kept on going along the other side of the road. Then somebody else from the Temple, who was supposed to be a very religious sort of person, passed by, and the same thing happened. "Finally a Samaritan came along. I don't need to tell you how Samaritans and Jews hate each other! But this Samaritan was sorry for the wounded man. He put bandages on his wounds, and took him to an inn. Before he left next morning, the Samaritan went to the innkeeper. He paid the bill for the man who had been robbed. Then he told the innkeeper to take care of the man, and the Samaritan said he would pay for anything more that was needed the next time he came. "Now, think of those three men who passed along the road. Which of them was a real neighbor to the man who was robbed?" The lawyer said, "Why, the one who helped him, of course." "Then," said Jesus, "go and do the same." What Jesus wanted the lawyer to understand was: "You really know what a good neighbor should be, because God has been good to you. But you are not much interested in being a neighbor to people who need your help." But if the lawyer did not see that for himself, there was no use telling him. He would be too proud to understand. Another day there was a man who came to Jesus and said: "Master, I wish you would speak to my brother. Our father died a little while ago, and my brother is keeping all the property for himself. Make him give me my share of it." Jesus would have nothing to do with the quarrel. He told this man: "You ought to think of something besides money and property. There is more to life than owning things. Let me tell you a story. "There was a farmer whose crops were so good that he had no place to put all the harvest. He said to himself: 'I will pull down my old barns, and build bigger ones, and put my crops in them. Then I will take life easy, for I have enough money to last me for many years.' "But do you know what happened? That very night God said to him, 'You fool, you are going to die tonight; and what good are your crops and your money going to be to you then?' That's what becomes of people who keep all their money for their own selfish use, and never think about God." There was another man who was a great disappointment to Jesus. He was a young man--rich, and a leader in the community. He came and kneeled before Jesus, and said, "Good Master, what should I do in order to have eternal life?" This was like the lawyer's question, but this man asked it in a different spirit. He really wanted to know. Jesus answered: "Do you know what you are saying when you call me 'Good Master'? No one is good except God." Jesus was wondering if the rich young man knew that he was talking to the Messiah, or if he thought that Jesus was just a man who was a little better than others. However, he went on: "If you want to have eternal life, keep God's commandments. You know what they are: Do not kill, do not steal, live a pure life, do not tell lies, honor your father and mother, and love your neighbor as yourself." [Illustration] The young man exclaimed: "But I have kept all those commandments ever since I was a boy! What is it that is wrong with me?" When Jesus saw that the young man was in earnest, he loved him. He replied: "There is indeed something wrong with you. It is the way you love your money. Give it away to the poor, and you will be rewarded in heaven. Give up everything you have, and come and follow me." The young man got slowly to his feet. No! That was asking too much! How could he live without his money? He needed his money. How did he know that God would look after him if he did not take care of himself? Without another word he went away. "How hard it is," Jesus said, "for rich people to obey God!" The disciples were amazed. They had always thought that the reason why some people were rich was that God was pleased with the good lives they had been living. They said, "If there isn't any hope even for rich people, is there any hope for _anybody_?" "No," Jesus replied, "there isn't any hope for anybody. No one is good enough. But God can help and save sinners, whether they are rich or poor. God is everybody's hope." Peter spoke for the rest of the disciples. He said, "Well, we have given up everything to follow you." Jesus answered, "If you have given up anything for my sake you will never have reason to be sorry for it, either in this life or after you die." * * * * * The months were going by, and it was time to be getting on toward Jerusalem. Jesus took his disciples and crossed to the east side of the river Jordan. They traveled south, and then crossed the Jordan once again and came to the city of Jericho. In the rich earth around Jericho beautiful gardens grew, and the palm trees stood tall. Travelers who came from the swamps of the Jordan loved to stop at Jericho before they took the hard and lonely road that led to Jerusalem. There were desert lands and hills ahead, but at Jericho there was water to drink, and good food to eat, and a place to stay in comfort. But Jesus could not stay long in Jericho. It was to Jerusalem that he was going, and nothing could hold him back. The people at Jericho heard that Jesus was passing through their city, and a crowd gathered in the streets to catch a glimpse of him as he went by. There was a man named Zacchaeus there. He was shorter than most other men, and he could not see Jesus because of the crowd around him. There was no use asking anyone to help him, for no one liked Zacchaeus. He was a taxgatherer, as Matthew once had been, and had grown rich collecting taxes. But he had grown unpopular too. The Jews thought him a traitor, for although he was a Jew he worked for the Romans, and made his fortune out of cheating his fellow Jews. But Zacchaeus was determined not to miss seeing Jesus. Running on ahead of the crowd, he climbed a sycamore tree. High above the street, he could look down at Jesus, but there was no reason to think that Jesus would look up at him. However, when Jesus reached the place where Zacchaeus was hiding in the branches, he stopped, looked up, and saw him. He knew who this man was. Jesus called out: "Hurry and come down out of that tree, Zacchaeus. I am coming to stay at your house today!" [Illustration] Surprised but happy, Zacchaeus scrambled down the tree and led Jesus to his house. The other people also were surprised, but not so happy. They muttered to themselves, as many people had done before. They said, "He's gone to be the guest of that miserable, cheating traitor of a taxgatherer!" But Zacchaeus became a changed man that day. He said to Jesus: "I am going to give half my money to the poor. And if I have cheated anybody I shall give back four times as much as I took." Then Jesus was glad that he had called Zacchaeus down from the tree. "You have been saved from your sins today, Zacchaeus," he said. Jesus was glad that he had found at least one rich man who did not love his money more than he loved God. Zacchaeus had not been a good man. He was not like the rich young man who had kept all God's commandments since he was a boy. But when he heard Jesus speak to him, he knew that he had been in the wrong. He was ready to do what he could to show that he knew how he had sinned. "This is what I came for," Jesus said, "to look for sinners like this man and to save them." When Jesus got to Jerusalem, it was going to cost him a great deal to help men find a new life. But whatever it might cost him, it would be worth the price. 11. Nearing the City [Illustration] Passover time had almost come, so Jesus had to be on his way. Jericho was left behind, and Jesus and the disciples pushed across the hills and desert land that lay east of Jerusalem. This was the country Jesus had crossed the first time he went to the Passover feast. That was twenty years ago, when he was a boy of twelve, and Joseph and Mary had taken him to the feast in the great city. The stones were just as hard now as they had been then. The land was as dreary to see as it had ever been, and the desert as dry. And yet there were just as many pilgrims from all parts of Palestine traveling up to Jerusalem, going, as their fathers did before them, to keep the Passover in the holy city of the Jews. In a little while a shout would go up, and many a party would burst into song. They would sing: [Illustration] "'I was glad when they said unto me, Let us go into the house of the Lord.... Pray for the peace of Jerusalem: They shall prosper that love thee.'" A few days more, and they would sacrifice their lambs in the Temple. They would pray God to be good to the Jews, and to save them from their enemies. A few nights more, and they would sit down to eat the roasted flesh of the lambs at the Passover feast; and when they had eaten they would sing: "'O give thanks unto the Lord, for he is good: For his mercy endureth for ever.'" Jesus and the disciples came out of the desert, and paused among the olive groves near the village of Bethany. Now only the Mount of Olives and the brook called Kidron stood between Jesus and Jerusalem. Already the Passover pilgrims were pouring through the gates of the city and up to the Temple. It was hard for all the pilgrims to find places to stay during the week of the Passover. Here at Bethany, Jesus had friends who loved him, and here he found a place in which to stay. A man named Simon, whom Jesus once cured of the dreaded leprosy, had a house in Bethany where Jesus was welcome. There also was a woman in Bethany whose name was Mary. She thought that nothing was too much to give to Jesus. Like another woman who once made the Pharisees angry, she came to Jesus when he sat at dinner in Simon's house and poured precious ointment on his head. But this time it was not the Pharisees who were angry, for there were no Pharisees in the house. It was Jesus' own disciples, especially Judas Iscariot, who said that it was wrong to waste anything that cost as much as the ointment. Judas spoke up and said, "Why was not this ointment sold, and the money given to the poor?" Judas did not really care about the poor. He looked after the money for Jesus and the disciples, and when he wanted any, he secretly helped himself out of what belonged to all of them. He thought that if the precious ointment had been sold, there would have been more money in the purse he carried. When Jesus heard the disciples complaining about Mary's gift, he said: "Let her alone. This is a good thing that she has done. There will always be poor people, and you can give them all you like after I am gone. But you will not have _me_ always. You know your custom is that when your loved ones die you put ointment on their bodies before you bury them. Well, Mary has come to get me ready to be buried, before I am even dead. I tell you, this woman's name will be remembered all over the world because of what she did for me today!" The disciples begrudged Jesus the ointment that a loving woman pured upon his head! That was a bad sign. Many times in these last few months Jesus had had to speak sharply to his disciples. The longer they were with him, the less they seemed to understand the things that he had taught them. Jesus was growing lonelier every day, and the hardest task was still ahead. One time, when they were on the road, John came to Jesus, feeling very proud of himself. "Master," he said, "we saw a man curing people who were out of their minds and he was using your name to do it! Naturally we told him he would have to stop. He didn't have any right to use your name, when he wasn't one of us!" Jesus answered: "You shouldn't have stopped him. If he wasn't doing us any harm, then he was on our side!" Then there was a terrible scene one day, when Jesus found the disciples quarreling about which of them would be the most important when Jesus became king. Each thought that he ought to have a higher position than the rest. "You aren't supposed to be looking out for yourselves," Jesus told them. "That's what the Romans do. They want to be kings, and order other people about. But the greatest one of you will be the one who does the most to help others, no matter what it costs him. Which would you rather do--sit down to a dinner and have your food brought to you, or bring the food for somebody else? You'd rather sit down and let a servant wait on you, of course. But I am content to be a servant among you, the servant of everyone." The disciples could not get over thinking that some people were more important than others, and that they themselves counted for more than anyone else. Once some mothers brought their little children to Jesus, hoping that he would put his hands on them and bless them. The disciples did not think that the children counted for anything, and they were going to send them away. They told the mothers that they ought not to come where they were not wanted. But Jesus called the little children to him, and said: "Let the little children come to me, and don't stand in their way. God's Kingdom is made up of people like these children. God hasn't any place for a person who thinks himself important. These children aren't pushing themselves forward. They are humble, and it would be better if you were more like them!" With these words Jesus laid his hands upon the children and gave them his blessing, as the mothers wanted him to do. Another thing that Jesus said, which the disciples could not understand, was that they ought to forgive anyone who did them an injury. One day Peter came to him and asked: "Lord, if somebody keeps on doing wrong to me, how many times should I forgive him? Seven times, perhaps?" Peter thought that seven times would be doing very well. But Jesus answered: "_Seven_ times! Multiply that by seventy! Forgive him until you have lost count of the times!" When the disciples heard that, they knew that Jesus meant they should never stop forgiving anyone who wronged them. This seemed to them to be more than they could do unless God helped them. They would need more faith in God. So they said, "Lord, give us more faith than we have." Then Jesus had to tell them that they really did not have any faith at all. He said: "If your faith were only as big as a mustard seed--the smallest seed there is--you could say to that tree over there, 'Be pulled up and be planted in the sea,' and it would be done." No, the disciples did not have much faith. They did not understand Jesus. They were jealous of one another. They thought that Jesus ought to be a king, and each of them thought that he ought to be the king's right-hand man. The disciples were afraid. If Jesus went up to Jerusalem, they could not tell what would happen. Sometimes they thought it would be best if Jesus would stay out of sight where his enemies could not find him. Worst of all, there was one of the disciples who was not loyal--Judas Iscariot. Judas was planning something so terrible that no one except Jesus knew what it was. Jesus could not wait until his disciples understood. He could not wait until they were brave enough, or strong enough or good enough. If he did, he would wait forever. And there was very little time. There was something that he had to do now--the thing he had planned to do all along. Back in the days when he was all alone in the wilderness, after John baptized him in the Jordan, he knew that this was what he would have to do someday. Now the time had come. He must go back to the Temple, where he had stood and watched the Passover lambs being killed when he was a boy of twelve. He must go and get ready for the Passover. [Illustration] Jerusalem was about two miles away. He could not stay on in Bethany. He must go to Jerusalem at once. He called two of his disciples and gave his orders. "Go into the village, and there you will find a young donkey tied. No one has ever ridden it. Untie it and bring it here. If the owner questions you, tell him, 'The Lord needs this donkey.' He will let you have it at once." The disciples went to do as they were told, and they did not need to be told twice. They knew what Jesus meant, for they knew the Scriptures. If this was the way Jesus was going to Jerusalem, there was nothing to be afraid of! For it said in the Scriptures that the Messiah would come into Jerusalem riding upon a donkey. How did the words go? "Rejoice greatly, O daughter of Zion; shout, O daughter of Jerusalem: behold, thy King cometh unto thee: he is just, and having salvation; lowly, and riding upon an ass, and upon a colt the foal of an ass." Jesus was going to do it! He was going to ride into Jerusalem as the Messiah! Everyone would know who he was at last, for it said in the Scriptures that this was how the Messiah would come to the city! Let the Jews get ready to receive the King they had waited for so long! They would have to wait no longer. Messiah--King Messiah--was marching toward his throne. 12. In Jerusalem [Illustration] The disciples went to the village, as Jesus told them, and there they found the donkey. They untied it, and led it away. Some of them put their clothes on the donkey's back, for a king must ride in comfort. Others spread their clothes out on the street, for a king should ride in state. Jesus got on the donkey, and started for Jerusalem. The disciples walked ahead. When they had almost reached the city, the disciples began to shout. Jesus used to say that they must not tell anyone that he was the Messiah. But now they could tell the whole world, for Jesus wanted everyone to know. They were glad that they did not have to be quiet any longer. They shouted, "Hosanna!" It meant, "Save us," and was a cry of welcome. They shouted the words of a psalm: "'Hosanna to the son of David: Blessed is he that cometh in the name of the Lord; Hosanna in the highest.'" The city was crowded with travelers from all over Palestine, and from foreign countries too. They were the pilgrims who had come for the Passover feast. The crowds saw the procession coming. They saw the donkey, and they remembered what the Scriptures said. They remembered that that was how the Messiah would come riding in. They heard the shouting, and they understood the words. They knew that that was what people would sing when the Messiah came. Some of the crowds began to shout with the disciples. A great cry of "Hosanna!" went ringing down the street. Everyone seemed to be saying it. "Blessed is he that cometh in the name of the Lord." Some cut branches from the trees, and waved them before the Messiah. It was a royal welcome. Only the priests and the rulers and the Pharisees were sorry to see Jesus come. "What is there we can do?" they said to one another. "Look, the whole world has gone after him!" [Illustration] [Illustration] The excitement spread through the city. There were strangers there who had never heard of Jesus. "Who is this?" they asked. Others who knew him answered, "Why, this is Jesus, the prophet from Nazareth in Galilee." Jesus went into the Temple and looked about at the crowds which thronged it. This was his Father's house and his house. These were his Father's people and his people. The king for whom the Jews had been waiting had come at last to reign. In the evening, Jesus and the disciples returned to Bethany to sleep. [Illustration] The next day Jesus returned to Jerusalem and again went to the Temple. This time he carried a whip. In the Court of the Gentiles the money was clinking as it had done when Jesus was a boy. At tables sat the men who grew rich by exchanging the money of visitors for coins used in Jerusalem. Others were selling doves for sacrifice. The poor had to pay heavily to worship God in his own house. Jesus strode down the room with the whip in his hand, and upset the tables where the money was. When the men jumped up from their chairs, he drove them out of the Temple. Then he drove the sheep and the cattle out after the men. "It is written in the Scriptures: God's house shall be a house of prayer. But you have made it into a den of thieves and robbers!" he cried. This was too much for the priests of the temple, and all the important men who ruled Jerusalem. The next day some of the rulers came to Jesus and said: "What right have you to do these things? Who told you that you could act like this?" So far, Jesus had never said that he was the Messiah. He had only acted as if he was the Messiah. The rulers hoped that he would say something they could punish him for. But Jesus was too quick for them. He said: "I'll answer your question if you answer a question of mine. When John the Baptist used to preach to you and baptize people, who gave him the right to do that?" Then the rulers did not know what to say. They thought to themselves: _Now if we say that John was sent by God to preach, he will say, "Why didn't you listen to him, then?_" _If we say that John didn't have any right to preach, the people will be angry and will likely kill us; for everyone still thinks that John the Baptist was a great prophet sent by God himself._ So all they said was, "We don't know--we can't tell." "Very well," Jesus retorted, "neither am I going to tell you what right I have to do these things!" Every day that week, Jesus came and taught in the Temple. Several times his enemies tried to trick him into saying something that would turn the people against him, but Jesus always had an answer which silenced them. Once they came and asked, "Should we pay taxes to the Romans?" That was a hard question. All the Jews hated the Romans, and if Jesus said that it was their duty to pay the taxes, everybody would hate him too. But if he said they should not pay the taxes--well, they could count on the Roman governor to settle with Jesus then. "Show me a penny," Jesus replied. [Illustration] Someone handed him a piece of Roman money. There was a man's picture stamped on one side of it. Jesus said, "Whose picture is that?" "Why," they answered, "that is a picture of Caesar, the emperor of Rome." "All right," said Jesus, "do whatever your duty is to Caesar and his government. You will have to decide about that for yourselves. And also do your duty to God!" It was such a clever answer that no one had a word to say. And Jesus still had not said anything that he could be punished for. But he said a great deal to make his enemies angry. About the Pharisees he spoke the hardest words he ever said. "Watch out for the scribes and the Pharisees," he told the people, "and don't be like them. They love to walk around in their long white robes, and to have everybody bow to them in the street, and to sit in the best seats in the synagogues and at dinners. All the time they are taking money from poor widows and they try to cover it up by making long prayers." Turning to the Pharisees themselves, he went on: "Woe to you Pharisees! You are like graves with rotting bodies in them, which people walk over without knowing what is underneath. Nobody knows how bad you are. You snakes! How can you escape the punishment which God is bringing upon you?" He left the Pharisees and went into the Temple, where people were making their gifts to God. Many rich men came in, and put large sums of money in the money box. Then came a poor widow who put two small coins into the box. Jesus called his disciples to him, and said: "I tell you, this poor widow has given more than all these rich people are giving. For the rich have plenty of money, and it doesn't cost them anything to give what they do. But this poor woman needs her money, and she has given all she has." With many words and stories he taught the people who thronged around him on the days of that week. And this was the last story he ever told: "Someday I shall sit upon my throne, and judge all the nations of the earth. To some people I will say: "'Come--my Heavenly Father loves you. Take the reward he has planned for you to have. For I was hungry, and you gave me food. I was thirsty, and you gave me something to drink. I was a stranger, and you took me into your homes. I had nothing to wear, and you gave me clothes. I was sick, and in prison, and you came to visit me!' "Then these people will be surprised, and say, 'Lord when did we ever do anything for you?' "And I will say: 'You were kind to the poor and the sick and the hungry, who did not count for anything on earth. You did not know it at the time, but when you did a kindness to them, it was to me you really did it.' "Then I will say to others: 'Go away. God wants nothing to do with you! For I was hungry, and thirsty, and naked, and sick, and in prison, and you did nothing at all for me.' "These people will also be surprised. They will say: 'Lord, when did we ever see you hungry, or thirsty, or naked, or sick, or in prison? If we had seen you needing anything, we would have helped you!' "And I will say: 'Many poor people needed your help, and you did not help them. When you failed them, you failed me. And now it is too late!'" * * * * * The priests and the rulers did not know what to do about Jesus. _The Messiah, indeed!_ they thought. They hated him, and they were afraid of him. They were afraid of the Romans too. What would the Roman governor say if he heard that there was someone in Jerusalem pretending to be King of the Jews? The priests and the rulers wanted to kill Jesus. That was all they talked about. But they did not know how it was to be done. For whenever Jesus came to Jerusalem, great crowds gathered around him. None of the priests dared to lay a finger on him in the open. The crowds would never let them. It seemed to the people as if the Messiah might have come at last. But something had to be done, the priests and the rulers said. The week was going by. The Feast of the Passover was nearly there. "We shall have to do away with Jesus quietly," someone said. "Yes," the others agreed, "we can't wait till the day of the Passover. If we should do anything to him on that day, there would be a riot." They were at their wits' end to know how to get rid of Jesus. The craftiest men in Jerusalem could not think what to do. There was a knock at the door. It was one of Jesus' twelve disciples, who had come to see the priests and rulers. His name? His name was Judas Iscariot. "What will you give me," Judas said, "if I turn Jesus over to you?" The priests and rulers could hardly believe their ears. "Thirty pieces of silver you shall have," they cried, "if you give us Jesus!" So for thirty pieces of silver Judas agreed to show them where Jesus was, at some time when there was no one around but the twelve disciples. "Send soldiers when I tell you," Judas said. "The other disciples will all be there, and the soldiers won't know which man to take. But I will go up to Jesus and kiss him. The man I kiss will be the one you want." Some dark night soon, a quiet place with no one around to see--and nobody would have to worry about Jesus of Nazareth any more! [Illustration] 13. The Last Night It was Thursday. On Friday afternoon the lambs would be killed for the Passover, and on Friday evening all good Jews would sit down to eat the lambs at the Passover feast. The disciples wondered where Jesus was planning to celebrate the feast with them. But Jesus did not wait until Friday to have a meal with all his disciples. On Thursday he sent two of them into Jerusalem from Bethany. He told them the name of the man to whom they were to go. "Go to this man," said Jesus, "and tell him that I said the time has come. He will show you where we are going to have supper tonight. Then you can get the supper ready." That evening Jesus and the twelve disciples met together at the house in Jerusalem. On the second floor there was a room, where food was spread upon the table. As they were eating supper, Jesus suddenly spoke. "One of you is a traitor!" [Illustration] Everyone stopped eating. And each one of the twelve disciples thought of his own sins. Each one wondered if he were loyal enough to Jesus. Each one cried out: "Master, is it I?" Jesus only answered: "It is one of you twelve men, eating with me now. It would have been better for that traitor if he had never been born!" A moment later Judas Iscariot slipped quietly out of the door. The other disciples did not know where he had gone. Jesus spoke again: "I wanted so much to eat the Passover feast with you this year, before I suffer. But I shall not eat it again with you until a better day, when we shall all be together once more." He took up a piece of bread, and said a prayer of thanks to God. Then he broke the bread, and passed the pieces among the disciples--only eleven of them now. He said words that they did not understand. "Take and eat this. This is my body." He took a cup of wine, and once more he gave thanks. Then he passed the cup among the disciples, saying: "Drink--all of you--drink of this wine. It is my blood, which I am going to shed so that the sins of many people may be forgiven. And in the days to come, do this same thing often, always remembering me." Then they sang a hymn together and walked out into the night air and went up the Mount of Olives. As they walked, Jesus said to the disciples: "You will all desert me tonight. For it is written in the Scriptures that when something happens to the shepherd the sheep will go away in all directions. However, I shall meet you again." Peter spoke up, and said bravely, "Even if everyone else deserts you, I will not!" Jesus answered: "Before the rooster crows at sunrise to tell you that morning has come, you will have said three times that you do not even know me." But Peter cried out that even if he died for it he would be true to Jesus. And all the other disciples said the same. Presently they came to a grove called Gethsemane. It was late. Jesus said to the disciples, "Sit here, while I go and pray." [Illustration] He took only Peter and James and John with him, and went a little way apart from the rest. To the three disciples he said: "I am greatly troubled. I do not know how I can bear it any longer. Wait here, and stay awake with me." Going a few steps farther on, Jesus fell on his knees and began to pray aloud: "O my Father, if it is possible, take this cup away; do not let these things happen to me! Yet not my will, but thine, be done." When he had prayed this way, he came back to Peter and James and John. All three were fast asleep. Jesus woke Peter up, and said: "What! Couldn't you stay with me for one short hour? Stay awake and pray. Pray for yourselves. You are going to need strength. You are not so strong as you want to be." He left them again, and once more he fell on his knees and prayed, "O my Father, if I must suffer these things, thy will be done." When he returned, the disciples again were sleeping. They were too tired to stay awake. A third time he went apart from them and prayed. He prayed in the same words he had used before. And suddenly he began to feel stronger. He rose from his knees at last, and came back to the disciples. His voice broke in upon their sleep: "Are you still sleeping? Well, you've slept long enough! My time is up. I am going to be turned over to sinners now! Get up! Look, the traitor is coming!" While he was still speaking, a crowd of soldiers carrying swords and clubs burst into the grove. Judas Iscariot was leading them. Judas ran to Jesus and kissed him, saying, "Hail, Master!" Jesus answered, "Well, friend--what have you come to do?" Then a band of men laid their hands on Jesus, and held him so that he could not escape. Peter was wide-awake by now. He had brought a sword with him. Pulling it out, he cut off the ear of a man in the crowd. Jesus said to Peter: "Put your sword away. My Father gave me these things to suffer. He would save me now if I asked him. But that is not the way it is to be." Then Jesus turned to the crowd of soldiers, and said: "Have you come to arrest me with swords and clubs, as though I were a robber? Every day I was in the Temple teaching, and you could have taken me then, but you never laid a hand on me. But this is what the Scriptures said would happen to the Messiah." The disciples could stand no more. They left Jesus standing there, and in terror they fled away. [Illustration] [Illustration] 14. The Last Day The soldiers bound Jesus and led him back to Jerusalem. They took him to the palace of the high priest. All the chief priests and rulers were gathered there in a council meeting. The council had already decided that Jesus would have to die, but it was hard to find a reason for killing him. They had to prove that Jesus had said or done something for which he could be put to death. They found a great many people who came and told lies about Jesus, but no two of them told the same story. At last the high priest, whose name was Caiaphas, stood up and said to Jesus: "You hear all the things that are being said about you. Aren't you going to defend yourself?" Jesus did not say a word. The high priest spoke again: "In the name of the living God I ask you: Are you the Christ--the Messiah--the Son of God?" Jesus answered: "You have said it." That was all the council wanted to hear. Caiaphas tore his own clothes in anger, and shouted: "Why do we need any more witnesses? You have heard him say it with his own mouth. He says he's God! What do you think about it?" And the whole council answered, "He ought to be put to death." Then some of them spat in his face. They covered his eyes, and slapped him, and shouted: "If you were the Messiah, you would know who hit you! Tell us, you Messiah you--tell us who hit you!" Meanwhile, in another room of the palace, there stood a disciple who was losing whatever faith he had once had. It was Peter. One of the other disciples, who knew the high priest, had gone ahead, and he had told the maid to let Peter in. The maid looked at Peter and said, "You were with Jesus, weren't you?" "I don't know what you're talking about," said Peter. The night was cool, and the servants of the high priest were standing around a fire they had made to keep themselves warm. Peter went over and began to warm himself too. Somebody else said to him, "You are one of Jesus' disciples." Peter's faith was all gone. "Man," he said, "I certainly am not!" But after a while another person spoke up and said: "Of course you are one of Jesus' disciples. You are from Galilee. We can tell from the way you talk." Peter began to curse and swear, saying, "I don't even know this Jesus that you are talking about!" At that moment the rooster began to crow. At the same time Jesus passed by the doorway, and looked at Peter. Peter remembered what Jesus had said, "Before the rooster crows, you will three times say that you do not know me." Peter went out of the palace, and wept bitterly. The great council of the Jews might say that a man deserved to die, but they could not put anyone to death. Only the Roman governor could do that. The Roman governor, whose name was Pontius Pilate, was in Jerusalem for the Passover. As soon as it was daylight, the council took Jesus over to Pilate's palace. When Judas Iscariot saw what was happening, he suddenly realized what he had done. He came to the chief priests, and brought them back the thirty pieces of silver they had given him for turning traitor. He cried out: "I have sinned! I betrayed a man who never did any wrong!" The chief priests shrugged their shoulders. "That's nothing to us," they said. "Take your money and go!" But Judas threw the money down on the floor and ran out. He took a rope, and found a tree, and hanged himself, for, after betraying Jesus, he could not bear to live. Meanwhile Jesus was standing before Pilate. The council had told Pilate that Jesus was claiming to be the King of the Jews. They said that he was stirring up the whole country against Caesar. They thought that Pilate would put him to death for that, because the Romans would be afraid that Jesus would lead a revolt against the Roman government. Pilate said to Jesus, "Well, are you the King of the Jews?" Jesus answered simply, "You have said it." Then the priests and rulers burst out with all kinds of evil stories about Jesus. Pilate spoke to Jesus again, and said: "Aren't you going to say anything? Listen to what they are saying about you!" But Jesus did not speak. Pilate was astonished. He could see that the only reason the council had brought Jesus to him was that they were jealous of Jesus and hated him. By now a large crowd had gathered to watch the trial. Many of the people in it had been Jesus' followers, but they followed him no longer. When they saw Jesus being tried like a criminal they decided that their priests and rulers had been right all along. They began to talk against Jesus, among themselves. Pilate wondered how he could let Jesus go. Suddenly he remembered a Jewish custom: every Passover a prisoner was set free. [Illustration] Pilate said: "Every year at this time I set a prisoner free. Now you can have your choice. You know we have a man named Barabbas in jail--he's the fellow that started a rebellion a little while ago. We were going to crucify him. And now here is Jesus. Which one shall I let go? Barabbas the murderer or Jesus who is called the Christ?" A great shout went up, "Barabbas!" Pilate did not know what to do now. He spoke again to the crowd, "Well, what shall I do to Jesus who is called the Christ?" Again there was a great shout: "Crucify him! Hang him up on a cross till he is dead!" Everyone seemed to be against Jesus now. However, Pilate tried once more. "But," he protested, "I can't find that he has been guilty of any crime!" The Jewish rulers replied, "We have a law which says he ought to die because he pretends to be the Son of God." Pilate was worried now. He spoke to Jesus again, and again Jesus did not answer. "Aren't you going to speak to me?" Pilate asked. "Don't you know that I can crucify you or let you go?" Jesus answered, "You wouldn't have any power over me unless God had given it to you." Pilate, when he heard this, tried once more to save Jesus. But the crowd was bigger, and louder, and more bloodthirsty than ever. Everyone was shouting: "Crucify! Crucify!" "Shall I crucify your king?" asked Pilate. The chief priests of the Jews, who hated Caesar, answered, "We have no king except Caesar!" Pilate was too weak to hold out any longer. He was beginning to wonder what Caesar would say if he heard that Pilate refused to crucify a man who claimed to be king of the Jews. "Take him," Pilate said. "Take him, and crucify him." But before the crucifixion came the scourging. Jesus was bound and beaten with long leather thongs which had cruel pieces of glass and lead fastened to them so that they would hurt all the more. When that was over, and his back was covered with cuts and bruises, the Roman soldiers who had scourged him wanted some more sport. They dressed Jesus in a purple robe. They made a wreath, like the one that the Roman emperor wore--only this one was made of thorns, which stuck into Jesus' head so that the blood ran down his face. Some of the soldiers spat on him; others made fun of him, bowing down and saying, "Hail, king of the Jews!" Then the soldiers stripped the purple clothes off Jesus, and put his own clothes back on him, and led him outside the city to be crucified. He was too worn out to carry his own cross, as those who were to be crucified usually did, so the soldiers forced a man of Cyrene named Simon to carry it for him. [Illustration] When they reached a hill called Calvary, they laid the cross down on the ground, and stripped Jesus of his clothes. They put Jesus on the cross, and stretched out his arms. They drove a nail through each hand, and one through his feet, fastening him to the cross. Then they stood the cross upright, and let Jesus hang there. On the top of it was written: "This is the King of the Jews." There was a cross on either side of him, with a thief hanging on each one. Jesus said, "Father, forgive them; for they know not what they do." The soldiers took his clothes, and divided them up among themselves. His coat was too good to tear up, so they threw dice to see which one of them would get it. Jesus was offered a drink which would have made the pain easier to bear, but he would not take it. People passed to and fro in front of the cross, shouting insults. "He saved others, but he can't save himself." One of the thieves turned his head and called out to him angrily, "If you are the Christ, save yourself and us too!" But the other thief spoke out of his pain: "Don't you fear God, seeing that we are all going to die? Aren't you afraid to talk that way? We deserve to die; but this man never did anything wrong." Then, turning to Jesus, he said, "Lord, remember me when you come to your Kingdom." Jesus said to him, "I tell you, today you will be with me in heaven." Near the cross stood Jesus' mother and other women who loved him. John the disciple was also there. Jesus called to his mother and John, and said: "Mother, from now on John will be your son. John, this is your mother." John took Jesus' mother to his own house. The hours passed by. It was about time for the Passover lambs to be killed in the city. Clouds were beginning to cover the sun, and it was growing dark although it was not yet night. Jesus cried out, "My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?" There was a stir of interest in the crowd. _Let's see what will happen now_, they thought. Jesus was becoming weaker. He said, "I am thirsty." A soldier dipped a sponge in vinegar, and held it up on a stick to Jesus' lips so that he could drink. Jesus cried out once more: "It is finished. Father, into thy hands I give my spirit." His head sank down upon his chest. There was a loud sound like a clap of thunder, and the earth shook. In the silence that followed, a Roman soldier spoke. "This man--" he said, "this man was indeed the Son of God." But Jesus did not hear him. For Jesus was dead. * * * * * When evening came, a man named Joseph of Arimathaea went to see Pilate. Joseph was a rich man, and much respected; and he had believed in Jesus. He went secretly to Pilate, for he was afraid of the Jews. He asked Pilate if he might have Jesus' body, and Pilate gave permission. Joseph came then to the cross, and took down Jesus' body. He wrapped it in a white linen cloth, and had it carried away to a tomb which had been dug out of the rock. Not until after the Sabbath could Jesus' family and friends come to put spices on the body of him whom they loved. Jesus' body was laid inside the tomb, and a great stone was rolled against the door. Standing there was a woman named Mary Magdalene with Mary the mother of Jesus. They watched while the body of Jesus, so dear to them, was laid away to rest. [Illustration] 15. The Victorious King At sunrise the day following the Sabbath, three women came to the garden where Jesus was buried. They came, as the custom was, to put ointments and spices on the body of Jesus. On the way they remembered that a great stone had been rolled against the door of the tomb. They wondered how they would get in. "Who will roll the stone away?" they asked each other. But when they reached the tomb, they found that the stone had been rolled back. Someone had been there before them; the door was open. The women went through the door of the tomb. A young man in white clothes was sitting on one side. Seeing their amazement, the young man spoke: "Do not be surprised. You are looking for Jesus of Nazareth, who was crucified. He is not here. He is risen from the dead. Look! There is the place where he was!" They looked, and they saw that his body was no longer there. The young man went on, "Go quickly, and tell this to his disciples: 'Jesus is alive.'" The women ran out of the tomb, trembling with fright and with surprise. One of the women was Mary Magdalene. As she ran, she saw two of the disciples coming, John and Peter. She cried out to them: "Someone has taken Jesus' body out of the tomb. We don't know where they have put it!" John and Peter began to run toward the tomb. John ran faster, and got there first. He looked through the door, and there he saw the white cloths that Jesus' body had been wrapped in, but there was no body in them any longer. Peter caught up to John, and ran right into the tomb. He too saw the folded cloths. John and Peter went away to their homes, not knowing what to think. Meanwhile Mary Magdalene had come back. She stood in the garden near the tomb, weeping as though her heart would break. She turned around, and saw that a man was standing near her. He spoke to her, and said: "Why are you crying? For whom are you looking?" Mary thought that the man must be the gardener. Through her tears she said: "Sir, if you have carried away the body of my Lord, tell me where you have laid him, and I will go and take him away." The man said softly, "Mary!" She looked again. She knew that voice. It was Jesus--Jesus calling her name! She cried out, "Master!" She moved as though to take hold of him. Jesus spoke again. It was really he. "Do not try to hold me here. I am going to my Father in heaven. But now go and tell that to the disciples. Tell them that I am going to my Father." And Mary went and told the disciples, "I have seen the Lord!" * * * * * Afterward, no one could ever remember clearly all that happened on that day. No one knew what to make of it all. No one knew whether to believe that Jesus was really alive. Late that afternoon, two disciples were walking along the road from Jerusalem to the village of Emmaus. They talked of what had happened on Friday, and now on Sunday. As they were talking, a stranger joined them. The stranger said, "What is it that you are talking about?" [Illustration] The disciples stopped. They were almost too sad to speak any more, but one of them answered, "Are you the only visitor to Jerusalem who doesn't know the things that have been happening there these last few days?" "What things?" the stranger asked. [Illustration] The disciples replied: "Why, all about Jesus of Nazareth. He was a great prophet and teacher. The chief priests and the rulers had him crucified. We had hoped that he was the Messiah, who was going to save the Jewish people. But now it is two days since he was put to death, and nothing has happened--though there were some women who went to the tomb and came away saying that he was risen from the dead." The stranger said: "O you foolish men--so slow to believe what it says in the Prophets! Don't you see that the Messiah had to suffer this way in order to be King?" Then he explained everything in the Scriptures about the Messiah. He spoke to them of how the Prophet Isaiah had said long ago: "He was despised and cast out by men; a man of sorrows and full of grief; and no one would look at him. He was hurt, because we were so sinful. He suffered for our sakes. He was killed like a lamb, and he did not try to defend himself." The stranger explained that Isaiah was talking about the Messiah. The Messiah was to be humble, and sacrifice himself, like one of the lambs at the Passover feast. Isaiah meant that the only one who could help others was the one who was willing to suffer for others. The Messiah never wanted to be a king like other kings. He did not want to lord it over others. He wanted to love them, and to give his life for them. "And so," the stranger went on, "you ought not to be sad, thinking that Jesus is not the Messiah after all. Jesus has lived and died as the Scriptures said the Messiah would. His love and his sufferings prove that he really is the Messiah. And if his believers love one another, as he has loved them, and sacrifice themselves as he has done, they will have peace and joy." As the three walked on, the stranger talked. When they reached Emmaus, they came to the home of one of the disciples. They said to the stranger: "Come in and stay with us. It is evening. The day is nearly over." They went into the house. Someone lighted the lamps, and food was placed before them. The stranger took some bread, and said a prayer of thanks, and broke the bread. The disciples had seen something like that before--breaking bread. They looked up quickly. Why! This man was not a stranger at all. It was Jesus. They knew him as they looked into his face. And as they looked, he vanished out of their sight, and they were alone again. They said to each other, "Didn't you have a strange feeling, as he talked to us along the road and explained the Scriptures?" Although it was now night, they returned to Jerusalem at once. They found the other disciples and told their story. "The Lord is indeed alive!" they said. "We knew him the moment he broke the bread!" [Illustration] While they were speaking, Jesus was suddenly among them once again. Jesus said, "Peace be with you." They were frightened then, but Jesus spoke again. "Do not be afraid," he said. "I am not a spirit." They still could hardly believe it. It seemed too good to be true. And while they stood there, not daring to believe that Jesus was alive, he said, "Have you anything here to eat?" They set a piece of broiled fish before him, and Jesus sat down to supper. [Illustration] [Illustration] One of the disciples was not there when Jesus appeared to the others. His name was Thomas. And no matter what the others said, Thomas could not believe that Jesus was alive again. "Unless," he said, "I see in his hands the marks that the nails made when they crucified him, and unless I put my finger into those marks, I will not believe." Eight days later the disciples were all together. This time Thomas was with the others. The doors were shut. Suddenly Jesus appeared again, and said as he had said before, "Peace be with you." Then Jesus turned to Thomas, and said, "Put your finger into the nail holes in my hand, and doubt no more, but believe in me!" Thomas fell down on his knees. He cried out, "My Lord and my God!" Jesus said to him: "You believe in me because you have seen me with your own eyes. It is still better when people believe even though they have not seen me." After this the disciples saw Jesus many times and at many places. But a day came at last after which they did not see him on earth again. On this day Jesus appeared to them outside Jerusalem, and said: "All power has been given to me in heaven and earth. I am Lord and King of all men. Go and tell people of every nation about me, so that they will believe in me. Baptize everybody in my name. Teach them everything that I have taught you. You will not be alone, for although you do not see me, I shall be with you always." Then Jesus said to them: "Wait a little while. Wait in Jerusalem, and someday soon you will know that the time has come to go out and preach. God will give you the power to make other people believe in me as their Saviour. You shall tell about me in Jerusalem, and in the country all around; in Samaria, and in the farthest parts of the earth." He lifted up his hands, and blessed them. And as he blessed them, a cloud covered him, and they did not see him any more. Jesus had gone home to his Father. [Illustration] [Illustration] They stared up into the sky, where he seemed to have gone. As they looked, they heard voices saying: "You men of Galilee, why do you stand looking up into the sky? The Lord Jesus will come again!" Then they remembered that they had work to do before they again would see Jesus. They had to go and preach, as Jesus had told them. They had to tell about him to all people everywhere. They walked back into Jerusalem. They had to wait; but now they were not waiting for Christ the Saviour to come. They were waiting only for the sign that would tell them it was time to go out and preach that Christ had already come. * * * * * The Passover was finished for another year, and the farmers of Palestine had work to do. The warm spring weather spread over the land, and the wheat was growing in the fields and on the hillsides. Farmers reaped their crops, and gathered in the grain, and got ready for another feast at Jerusalem. For when the wheat was gathered, it was time to go and give thanks to God for the harvest, at the Feast of Pentecost. The disciples waited while the weeks of spring went by. Every day they went to the Temple and praised God for his goodness, because they knew that Christ had come. Seven weeks passed by. The hot sun ripened the crops, and the farmers cut their grain. The Day of Pentecost came around, and the streets of Jerusalem were thronged again. There were men there from near and far, from every country of which anyone had ever heard. The harvest was over, and the feast was on! That morning the disciples were all together when they heard the sound. It was a sound like the rushing wind, bringing messages from God. They saw a vision too, and what they saw seemed like tongues of fire, coming down to each one of them so that all could speak what God wanted them to say. The disciples went out and began to speak. Everyone who heard them understood what they were saying. Excitement went through the city. "This is strange!" the people said. "We have come from near and far. We speak many different languages. Yet when these men tell us about the wonderful things that God has done, we understand what they are telling us. What is it that has happened?" Peter stood up beside the other disciples, and boldly raised his voice: "Listen to me, everyone who is here at Jerusalem! You have read in the Scriptures how God said that he would send his Holy Spirit to his people. That is what has happened! The time has come to preach to you! Therefore, listen to my words. "God sent Jesus of Nazareth to you, and he did many wonderful things among you, which you saw for yourselves. God let you take him and put him to death with your own wicked hands. But it was not possible for him to be held forever by death. God has raised him up from the dead, and we have seen it! He is King; and he has given us the power to tell you about him, and you can hear what we are telling you. Let everybody know this for a fact: this very Jesus whom you crucified is Lord and Christ!" And when the people heard these words, they were greatly troubled. "What shall we do?" they cried. Peter answered: "Repent! Give up your sins, and begin a new life! Believe in Jesus Christ, and let us baptize you in his name. Then your sins will be forgiven, and he will send his Holy Spirit to change you!" Many were glad when they heard this, and they were baptized in Jesus' name. That very day about three thousand people became believers and followers of Christ. They joined with those who had been disciples before, praying together, and sharing with each other everything they had. Jesus had a Church, which believed that he was Christ the Saviour. Every day many more were added to the Church. Every day the Church of Jesus Christ grew stronger. It grew like the grainfields in the spring. [Illustration] * * * * * SCRIPTURE REFERENCES Page CHAPTER 2 17 Luke 2:1-20 22 Matt. 2:1-12 26 Luke 2:21-35 28 Matt. 2:13-23 CHAPTER 3 34 Ex. 12:1-42 35 Ps. 118:29 35 Deut. 16:1-7 36 Luke 2:41, 42 39 Ps. 122:1, 2, 6 43 Luke 18:10, 11 44 Luke 2:41-52 CHAPTER 4 47 Matt. 3:1-9 49 John 1:19-27 51 Matt. 3:13-15 52 John 1:29-34 53 Matt. 4:1-11 56 Matt. 4:17 57 John 1:35-41 57 Matt. 4:18-22 59 Mark 2:13-17 59 Matt. 9:9-13 60 Mark 2:15-19 CHAPTER 5 62 Matt. 5:43-48 63 Matt. 6:15 63 Matt. 5:41 64 Luke 6:20-23 65 Matt. 5:11, 12 65 Luke 16:19-21 66 Luke 6:24-26 66 Matt. 6:24-34 68 Matt. 6:1-6 69 Matt. 7:21-23 69 Matt. 7:24-29 72 Mark 1:21-28 73 Mark 1:29-34 74 Mark 1:35-39 CHAPTER 6 77 Luke 4:16-30 81 Matt. 12:46-50 81 Mark 1:40-45 83 John 9:1-41 83 Mark 2:1-12 86 Mark 2:23-28 87 Matt. 12:9-14 87 Luke 6:6-12 CHAPTER 7 91 Luke 7:36-50 95 Luke 15:1-10 95 Luke 15:11-32 98 Matt. 8:5-13 98 Luke 7:2-10 100 Matt. 14:3, 4 100 Matt. 11:1-6 102 Mark 6:21-32 104 Luke 13:31, 32 104 Luke 8:4-15 CHAPTER 8 107 Mark 4:35-41 110 Mark 5:1-20 113 Mark 5:21-40 116 John 5:25 117 Mark 5:41-43 CHAPTER 9 118 Matt. 10:1-15 119 Luke 9:10-17 119 John 6:1-13 123 John 6:15-51 125 Matt. 16:13-19 127 Matt. 16:20-25 127 Mark 9:2-9 CHAPTER 10 129 Luke 9:57-62 130 John 6:66-71 131 Luke 11:1-4 131 Matt. 6:9-13 131 Luke 11:5-10 132 Luke 10:25-37 134 Luke 12:13-21 135 Matt. 19:16-22 135 Luke 18:18-23 137 Luke 18:24-30 137 Luke 19:1-10 CHAPTER 11 141 Ps. 122:1, 6 141 Ps. 106:1b 142 Matt. 26:6-13 142 John 12:1-8 143 Luke 9:49, 50 144 Mark 9:33-35 144 Luke 22: 24-27 144 Matt. 19:13-15 145 Matt. 18:21, 22 145 Luke 17:5, 6 147 Mark 11:1-3 147 Zech. 9:9 CHAPTER 12 148 Mark 11:4-11 148 Matt. 21:6-11 152 Mark 11:15-17 152 John 2:15 153 Mark 11:27-33 154 Mark 12:13-17 155 Mark 12:38-40 155 Matt. 23:27-33 155 Mark 12:41-44 156 Matt. 25:31-46 157 Matt. 26:3-5 159 Matt. 26:14-16 CHAPTER 13 160 Mark 14:12-15 160 John 13:1 160 Mark 14:17-21 161 Luke 22:15-20 161 Mark 14:22-26 161 I Cor. 11:23-25 162 Mark 14:27-31 162 Matt. 26:36-46 164 Matt. 26:47-56 CHAPTER 14 165 Matt. 26:57-68 166 Matt. 26:69-75 166 Luke 22:56-62 167 Matt. 27:1-5 168 Mark 15:1-13 168 Matt. 27:11-18, 20-22 170 John 19:4-16 171 Mark 15:15-21 172 Matt. 27:33-43 172 Luke 23:33-38 173 Luke 23:39-43 173 John 19:26, 27 173 Matt. 27:45-54 173 Luke 23:44-49 173 John 19:28-30 174 Mark 15:42-47 CHAPTER 15 175 Mark 16:1-7 175 Matt. 28:1-7 176 John 20:1-10 176 John 20:11-18 177 Luke 24:13-32 181 Luke 24:33-43 184 John 20:24-29 185 Matt. 28:16-20 185 Luke 24:49-51 185 Acts 1:8, 9 187 Acts 1:10-12 188 Acts 2:1-47 * * * * * 
19190	----	MEN CALLED HIM MASTER _By_ ELWYN ALLEN SMITH THE WESTMINSTER PRESS - PHILADELPHIA COPYRIGHT, MCMXLVIII, BY W. L. JENKINS +----------------------------------------------------------+ | Transcriber's Note | | | | There is no evidence that the U.S. copyright on this | | publication was renewed. | | | +----------------------------------------------------------+ _All rights reserved_--no part of this book may be reproduced in any form without permission in writing from the publisher, except by a reviewer who wishes to quote brief passages in connection with a review in magazine or newspaper. PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA CONTENTS _Have You Ever Wondered?_ 6 1 _A Voice in the Wilderness_ 7 2 _Fishers of Men_ 14 3 _A Man of Authority_ 25 4 _God Is Now King!_ 34 5 _Who Is This Carpenter?_ 45 6 _The Old and the New_ 54 7 _Missionaries of the Kingdom_ 64 8 _He Is More than a Teacher_ 74 9 _How Will You Know the Messiah?_ 80 10 _"You Are the Christ"_ 88 11 _A Secret Is Told_ 102 12 _The Greatest Among Us_ 113 13 _The Messiah Must Die_ 122 14 _A Day of Victory_ 131 15 _Dispute in the Temple_ 141 16 _The End of Hope_ 152 17 _The Darkest Hour of All_ 165 18 _The Rock of Faith_ 173 HAVE YOU EVER WONDERED? What kind of men were Jesus' disciples? What was it like to be with Jesus in Palestine? Why did some of the disciples find it so hard to understand Jesus? Who were the people who killed Jesus? Why did they do it? This book has been written to help you to answer these questions. It takes you right into Jesus' world so that you can hear his conversations with the disciples and watch the things they did. The stories of Jesus and the disciples in this book are told in different words from those you will find in your Bible, and background has been built in from other records of the time. For example, the Bible gives only the fact that one of the disciples was a Zealot; in this book the disciple is shown speaking and acting as we know Zealots spoke and acted. The story of the rich young ruler has been placed early in Jesus' ministry to show that he would not accept every man who wanted to be his disciple. The parable of the Good Samaritan has also been placed in the early period as an example of the informal way in which Jesus taught. That you may know what is from the Bible and what is added to make a complete story, Scripture references for each event are given in the back of the book. These references will help you to read and understand the Gospels. As you read what it meant to be a disciple of Jesus while he was on earth, you will see more clearly what it means to be one of his disciples today. [Illustration] 1. A VOICE IN THE WILDERNESS "Andrew! The baskets are slipping!" Two men on foot were driving heavily loaded donkeys ahead of them. Across the back of Andrew's tiny beast hung two huge baskets. One slanted crazily forward. "It ought to hold until we get to the top," answered Andrew. He looked critically at the load and then at the path ahead. They were climbing the bank of a wide gully cut by the floods that rushed down from the barren hills into the valley of the Jordan River every spring. Andrew shouted a command and the donkeys climbed slowly upward. At the top the men stopped to catch their breath. "John," exclaimed Andrew in disgust, "I have tightened this thing on every hill between Galilee and Judea!" He worked impatiently at the knotted ropes that bound the baskets on the donkey's back. John was not listening. He was gazing at the scene before them. Torrents of muddy water poured through the gully during the season of rains. Now the clay in the bottom was dry and cracked. Under the hoofs of the animals it was as hard as stone. John pushed his damp hair back from his forehead. His home province, with its green hillsides surrounding the cool Lake of Galilee, was very different from this burnt, rocky land of Judea, which lay southwest of where they stood. The gully carried a sluggish stream of heated air up from the valley; he could feel the damp warmth on his skin. Even on the hilltop there was no cooling breeze. Andrew wiped his face with a dusty sleeve and left a dirty streak above his brows. "There!" he exclaimed. "These baskets ought to stay on now." The rope was drawn tightly around the belly of the donkey. "We should be at Bethany soon," remarked John. Andrew struck the donkey with his whip and said gruffly, "Come on!" as though the animal had shaken its load loose on purpose. The little caravan started again, Andrew in the lead. The road was built on the slope of the hills which closed in the plain of the Jordan. Stretching far to the west the men could see fields of ripe grain. The heat of early summer had come quickly this year and now threatened to destroy the crop. Farmers were hard at work cutting the wheat and threshing out the grain on platforms of earth pressed smooth as stone. "Are you sure that John the Baptizer is still at Bethany?" called Andrew over his shoulder. John did not answer. After a moment, Andrew added, "Perhaps he has gone to some other place to preach." Still there was no reply. Irritated, Andrew turned. John had dropped behind and was walking with a stranger. Where had this traveler come from? He must have been moving fast to overtake them so swiftly. His robe was hitched high at the waist for easier walking. Andrew slowed and waited for the men. "Could you tell us, friend, where John the Prophet is baptizing?" John was saying. The traveler smiled. "I hear he is at Bethany on the Jordan, near Jericho. Do you want to hear him?" "We are his disciples," responded John proudly; then he bit his lip. Andrew was frowning at him. It was dangerous to say a thing like that! John looked at the stranger narrowly. He was from Galilee; his broad accent showed that. John glanced at Andrew. Surely a Galilean was safe! "The Prophet says that Israel will soon be free," ventured John. It was a test question. The stranger smiled as though he agreed, and Andrew asked enthusiastically: "Do you believe him? He says that God will overthrow the Romans soon!" "How does John the Baptizer think all this will happen?" asked the Galilean traveler. Andrew did not reply for a long while. Finally he said: "The Prophet tells us that we cannot set ourselves free without God's help. He says that if we had been willing to change our ways, God would have rescued us long ago. Therefore we must get rid of sin and pride and take our stand on God's side. When we do that, great things will happen!" He looked directly at his fellow traveler. "Do you believe this?" The stranger's answer was clear. "John speaks the truth." Suddenly they heard the thunder of galloping hoofs. A band of horsemen was bearing down on them. Helmets and spears glinted in the brilliant sunlight. Andrew and John shouted at the donkeys, but one of them moved slowly. Desperately John whipped the animal. The donkey leaped. A rope snapped and one of the heavy baskets dropped to the ground. The three men heard a soldier curse them. They could hardly see each other for the thick dust. The basket lay trampled in the dirt; salted fish were scattered all over the road. Andrew kicked the ruined basket into the ditch. "May God soon burn Rome and all her soldiers! This land belongs to us!" He ran a few steps as if to overtake the riders and shook his fist. "God will strike you!" he shouted. The stranger was helping John put what was left of the fish in the other three baskets. Andrew turned to them. "I have seen whole armies of Romans march through fields of ripe wheat! I have seen our towns burned by these destroyers! They have killed thousands of our people! We have seen even our own friends killed by these murderers!" The man answered quietly: "I know what they have done. But hating them will not help." Andrew was taken by surprise. "We have been oppressed before," continued the stranger. "God has sent John to us now, just as he has always sent prophets to tell us what we should do." "What should we do?" "Just as you said yourself, we must repent of our sin," replied the traveler. "God can do very little until he finds men who are willing to obey him." Andrew had nothing to say. "There is a well not far ahead," remarked John. "We must water the animals." Under a dusty palm over the next hill they found the well. The stranger drew water for the donkeys and they drank noisily. Then he drew water for the men. They had no sooner finished than Andrew urged: "Let's hurry. We are not far from the place where John is baptizing." The road led down the slope and across the plain toward the river, which had cut a deep gorge. At the edge the men paused to look. A hundred feet below flowed the Jordan. It seemed sluggish now; but in the rainy season it was swift and treacherous. The water was yellow and gray and only a few shrubs clung to the banks. A short distance away the river turned and disappeared behind the opposite cliff. "The crossing is below that bend," explained John to the stranger. "The Prophet should be there." He gave his donkey a cut with the whip, and the stolid animal moved faster. A few minutes later he cried out: "There! See down there?" People were gathered at the edge of the river. It did not take the men long to reach the gully through which the road descended to the river. The fishermen tied their donkeys with the other animals that stood tethered to bushes and small trees. In their haste they forgot their companion. "Do you see the Prophet?" inquired Andrew, looking eagerly about. John jerked at his sleeve. "There! By that rock on the bank!" They climbed up the slope where they could see. John could not tell why he felt the way he did. It might have been the appearance of John the Baptizer. He wore a rough camel-hair tunic and a leather belt. None of the people who were there for the first time had ever seen such a man before. He was very thin. His skin was tanned brown and his hair and beard were long. Like the poorest people in Palestine, he lived on grasshoppers and wild honey. Just then John the Baptizer spoke. He looked old, but his voice showed that he was young and strong. "It is time you begin to show some sign that you are God's chosen people," he cried out. "But you are just like your ancestors--you pay no attention to God. You don't listen to the prophets. God is not going to wait much longer. The time has come to repent! The Kingdom of Heaven is near!" The crowd stirred. What was this? Could it be true that the end of the world was coming soon? "Isaiah the Prophet said, 'Everyone shall see the saving power of God,'" continued the Baptizer. "God is getting ready to clean off his threshing platform. He will gather his wheat into his storehouse, but he will burn the straw in fire that never dies down! Let every one of you get ready for the coming of the Lord!" Near the front edge of the crowd a priest stood up. "How do you dare talk this way?" he demanded. "Who are you--the Messiah?" "No, I am not the Messiah," replied the Prophet. "Then who are you? The Prophet Elijah?" "I am not Elijah." "Are you Moses come back to us?" "No." "Then who are you? The rulers in Jerusalem have sent me to find out. What have you to say for yourself?" Andrew and John glanced at each other. The rulers! John the Baptizer called out boldly to the whole crowd, "I am a voice crying in the wilderness, 'Clear the way for the Lord!'" The priest from Jerusalem interrupted again. "If you are not the Christ, nor Elijah, nor Moses, what right have you to baptize people?" The people stirred; they did not like this man. "I baptize you with water for repentance, but he who is coming after me is mightier. I am not fit even to tie his sandal laces. He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire. You must repent!" A man broke away from the crowd and stepped uncertainly toward the Prophet. Words came from his lips as though it hurt him to speak. "I have forced money out of people. I am a tax-gatherer. What can I do?" Everyone there had been cheated by tax collectors. "Turn your whole life back toward God. Never again force people to pay more money than is just." Several other people had joined the tax collector. "What must I do?" asked a soldier. "Never take money from people by force. Never blackmail. Be content with your pay." He looked at the group before him and said: "Let every man of you who owns two garments share with the person who has none at all. If you have food, share it too!" A whisper ran over the crowd. John had turned to some religious officials, Sadducees and Pharisees, who stood watching. "You nest of snakes! Who told you to flee from God's day of judgment? It is time you repented!" "How can he talk that way to Pharisees?" said Andrew. He could tell even from where he stood that the Pharisees felt the charge was unjust. "Why should we repent?" asked one of them. "We are descended from Abraham himself. We were born to be God's chosen people!" "God can make children of Abraham out of these rocks if he wants!" burst out the Prophet. "Instead of saying over and over again, 'Abraham is our ancestor,' you ought to live so that people will know that you have repented! The wood chopper is ready to destroy every tree that is not producing good fruit. Every bad tree he will cut down and throw into the fire!" John turned his back on them. "Look!" whispered Andrew in excitement. "There is the stranger we met on the road!" The Prophet had walked down into the water to begin baptizing those who were waiting on the shore, but now he stopped and turned toward the place where the Galilean was standing. He completely forgot the crowd. In the silence Andrew could hear him protesting. "No! No! No!" The Prophet stepped back in awe. "I am not worthy to baptize you. You should baptize me!" The two fishermen could not hear the Galilean's reply, but they saw him walk down into the water, John the Baptizer leading. The people stood as though fascinated. Recalling the incident later on, Andrew and John realized that their tense concentration on the two men at the river had driven every other thought from their minds. John was baptizing the stranger. As he came up from the river, the Galilean's face bore an expression of joy and praise which the fishermen remembered as long as they lived. Some power had come upon him. "What happened, Andrew? What happened?" Andrew did not hear; he was staring at the Galilean. "Andrew!" John was insistent. "Something just happened. I don't understand. What was it?" Andrew murmured. "He must be a prophet too." The people were talking excitedly. Everyone felt as John and Andrew did. The Galilean had gone, and the Prophet was now baptizing the others who waited. Shadows were creeping into the gorge as evening approached. Groups started away toward the near-by towns. "Did you hear what the Galilean said to John the Baptizer?" asked John. Without answering, Andrew started toward the knot of people near the Prophet, and John followed. Andrew asked a man beside him, "Did you hear what the Galilean said to the Prophet?" "Yes," the man answered. "He said, 'Every man must take his stand on God's side.'" Before Andrew could say any more the Prophet spoke. He knew what the people were thinking. "Upon the head of this man of Galilee I saw the Spirit of God settle like a dove from the sky," he declared. "God has chosen him to do His work!" [Illustration] 2. FISHERS OF MEN The morning sun was breaking over the hills that closed in the Lake of Galilee on the east. Fog was thick over the water, but the fishermen in the two boats that lay a short distance from the shore knew the sun had risen, for the mist was full of white light. Between the boats was a great net, partly under water. The fishermen, two in each boat, were pulling the opposite edges over the side into the bottom of their boats. Their breath hung in the chilly air. Andrew had returned to Galilee after his trip to Judea and was working with his brother, Simon. "I wouldn't mind hard work if we could catch fish," remarked Simon, resting a moment. "We'll soon see what we've caught," replied Andrew. The net was almost gathered in. "It won't be much," grunted Simon, bending to his work again. After a few minutes the boats lay side by side, the nets heaped high in them. "I have fished in this lake all my life," remarked James, the brother of John, "and so has my father, Zebedee, but I have never seen so few fish for a night's work!" Andrew felt as disgusted as Simon and James, but all he said was, "Let's go ashore." James and Andrew guided the boats toward the spot where Zebedee had built a fire of thorn twigs. The men jumped out and crowded around the crackling flames. Zebedee had chosen several fish for their breakfast. He raked some hot coals from the fire and laid the fish among them. They smelled good to the hungry men. This was the best time of the fishermen's day. Hard work was done. The fire was warm. The thought of food gave them a good feeling. "Father, why is fishing so poor this year?" asked John. "I don't know, son," replied Zebedee. "Some years there are enough fish for all Galilee and Judea. But in years like this, the people of the five cities on our lake go hungry." He was thinking of times past. "If the wheat crop is poor in Galilee, there may be riots." "That would only make matters worse," commented Simon. "Yes, unless King Herod has improved lately." Zebedee smiled sourly. "I think that foreigner actually enjoys killing. How he loves our money! If riots come, we are sure to be taxed even more." He took two of the fish off the coals and laid them on a smooth rock. When they were cool enough, he picked them up. "Breakfast is ready," he said. The men rose and bowed their heads, while the older man prayed. "Praise ye the Lord. I will give thanks unto the Lord with my whole heart, In the council of the upright, and in the congregation. He hath given food unto them that fear him: He will ever be mindful of his promise. Holy and reverend is his name. Amen." While they ate, James asked, "Father, who is in the other boat this morning?" Zebedee hired men to work for him. "Old Gideon the farmer, with our new man, a gentile from Sidon." "Why in the world did you hire a gentile, father?" asked John sharply. "Well, son, he is young and strong. He is willing to work for us." He paused. "But I couldn't help wondering where he came from." "Did you ask him?" "No. He wouldn't answer questions about himself. But he knew fishing." John shook his head. "I don't like it, father. Jews have no business working with gentiles. And besides, if he is a runaway slave, we might get into trouble." "Now look, son. Half the people in Galilee are gentiles. Every day we see them. What harm is there in working with them?" "Here comes the other boat," said Simon. The sun was driving away the mist; Simon pointed to a fishing boat drawing closer to the shore. "Did you do any better than we did, Gideon?" called Zebedee. As the old farmer came toward them, the men could tell that his body was rugged in spite of stooped shoulders. "No better; maybe worse. It's getting as hard to make a living on the lake as by plowing the land." The newcomers sat down and hungrily ate the fish that Simon handed them. "Zebedee says there may be riots if the wheat is poor," said Simon. "What do you think of the crop, Gideon?" Gideon squinted toward the hills as though looking at the fields that lay beyond them. "My guess is that there will be enough." He frowned. "Enough, that is, if the landlords don't grab it all." James glanced at Simon, concealing a smile. Old Gideon never got tired of scolding the big landowners. "Before I was forced off my farm we had plenty to eat, even in dry weather." He shook his finger. "And mind you, I had only five acres! Now look what has happened!" He pounded his knee. "A man can hardly feed his family with ten acres. Why? Taxes and more taxes!" He counted on his fingers. "First, Herod takes one fourth of all our grain. That goes into the bellies of the Romans. Then there is the tithe. That takes enough to feed a hired man! Then we pay the Temple tax to feed the priests. They get the first-born of all the sheep too. When a man's first son is born, he must make a big gift to the synagogue. Farmers have to give part of the wool at sheep-shearing; part of the wood at woodcutting; and the best of the fruit at harvest." He looked around and spat on the ground. "On top of that we pay for the schools and synagogues! Is it any wonder we have hardly enough left to feed ourselves?" "But religious taxes are paid for the sake of God, Gideon!" protested James. "Yes, yes ... I know." Gideon couldn't argue the point; for a moment he was silent. Then he looked sharply at James and snapped: "Do the landlords pay religious taxes? No!" His voice was bitter. "That tax-gatherer who bought me out knew ways to get out of paying the Temple tax!" "Was it when you sold your farm that you became a fisherman, Gideon?" asked James. "Yes. I almost had to serve a term of bondage." The gentile jerked up his head and said, "Were you a slave?" "No, but my brother bound himself for twelve years," answered Gideon, looking at the gentile curiously. "Do the bondslaves make much trouble here?" he asked. Zebedee looked at him very closely. "In Galilee the slaves do not cause riots. The Jews do." James explained. "In Palestine there are more free men than slaves. Hunger causes most riots. But in a way, our whole nation is a slave to Rome." His eyes challenged the gentile and no one missed his meaning when he spoke again. "A nation can't run away from its master the way a slave can." The gentile started. He glanced swiftly around the group. The men were looking at him suspiciously. "Are you a runaway slave?" demanded Zebedee point-blank. The man flushed and spoke shamefacedly. "Yes," he admitted. After a moment's silence, Andrew said: "The Romans treat us all the same way. No one here will betray you." The man's face showed his relief. "Perhaps you will tell us where you are from," suggested Simon. "I am a Greek; a fisherman from Corinth. I was taken captive and made the slave of a Roman soldier. We were sent to Sidon." He waved his hand toward the west. "I watched my chance and ran away. Here I want to work and remain unknown." John said: "Will you come with us to the synagogue? If you are going to work with us, you should become one of us." "I will worship any god who will give me a happy life." "I can't promise that God will do that," answered John. "Our nation has always suffered greatly." He looked at Andrew. "But we believe what John the Baptizer tells us: God is soon coming to save us." The gentile shook his head. "I don't understand." "Perhaps he has not heard of the Prophet," Andrew said to Simon. He turned to the slave and said, "God has sent a Prophet to warn us to turn back to God." "What will your god do for you?" asked the other. Andrew spoke sternly to him. "God is not our servant! We are his servants! We obey him." "John the Baptizer says God will soon set up his Kingdom," added John. "I must say the Zealots make better sense to me," interrupted Simon. "After all, you have to make some effort yourself. You can't just sit and wait." "Who are the Zealots?" asked the gentile. "They are warlike patriots who are always staging riots against the Romans," explained Simon. "While I was at Sidon, the Romans were busy hunting down bands of these people," observed the gentile. "Many brave men have been killed by Rome. We seem to be defeated in every rebellion." Simon turned to his brother. "Do you remember Judah the Galilean?" Andrew nodded. "Judah was a Zealot," continued Simon. "He gathered a group of brave young Jews and raided one of Herod's forts. They took swords, spears, and money to buy food. At the Feast of the Passover, they came out of their hiding places in the northern hills." He pointed toward the mountains where the snowy crest of Mount Hermon shone in the morning light. "They hid swords under their robes and joined the crowds going to Jerusalem. I was only a child but my parents took me to Jerusalem that year. "The Zealots knew the Temple would be guarded by Roman soldiers, so they surrounded it. The Roman commander saw men with swords in the crowd of pilgrims filling the Temple and thought they were going to attack his men, so he ordered his soldiers to attack first. "The Zealots were taken by surprise and the Romans gained the upper hand. Then Judah saw his chance. He rallied his men, and they climbed on the roof of the wooden buildings which surround the Temple courtyard. From there they threw spears down on the Romans. It looked then as though they had a chance to win. "To drive the Jews off these buildings, the Romans set them afire. They were dry as tinder and burned fiercely. The Zealots had to get down. Some killed themselves rather than surrender. Others leaped among the Romans and died fighting. Those that escaped to the country hid in the hills around Jerusalem. There Judah gathered together as many of his men as were still alive. "The Roman general sent bands of his men into the hills to hunt down the survivors. One morning there was a blare of trumpets and a group of Roman soldiers came marching down the street. From the roof of the house where I stayed with my parents we saw Judah of Galilee being prodded along by guards in armor. He was hurt but he walked proudly. "I began to cry. Even my father had tears in his eyes. Although I was only a young boy, I knew that Judah would be killed for fighting the Romans. But I did not know how terrible it would be. "The Romans made all Jews who did not live in Jerusalem leave within two days. It was a sad time. We had come in joy, remembering how at the first Passover Feast God had protected us from the Egyptians. We left sorrowing. We saw a dreadful sight when we went out of the city gate." The fishermen had finished their food and sat with their eyes fixed on Simon. James and Andrew had heard bits of this story before, but listened eagerly for details as Simon talked. John's eyes seemed to be saying: "Go on! Go on!" Zebedee was older and knew the story well. Already his face showed pain and sorrow. "Judah had been condemned to die as a criminal. All criminals were crucified. He was thrown to the ground and his body was spread on a wooden cross. His hands were nailed to the crossbeam. His feet were nailed also. The cross was set upright beside the road from Jerusalem to Galilee. All the Zealots who had been hiding in the hills of Judea were crucified with him. "When my father and mother took me out through the city gate, I saw hundreds of crosses on both sides of the road. On each cross hung a brave Galilean. When I saw that Judah was dead, my boyhood dream crumbled. I have never forgotten." The fire had burned out while Simon talked. The morning sun glared on the gray ashes. Lost in thought, the men gazed at the dead fire. Finally Simon said: "It seems that every time we fight for the Kingdom of God we suffer all the more. How does John the Baptizer explain that, Andrew?" "He didn't say anything about it that I remember," Andrew admitted. People were hurrying along the road back of the beach. "Come along, men," said Zebedee briskly. "We must clean the nets." "I think I'll try my luck in the shallow water," said Andrew. He picked up a circular net with weights around the edges. He waded to his knees and threw the net. It fell flat on the water and sank, trapping a small fish under it. The others began to wash the nets, patiently picking out the seaweed and pebbles caught in them. "Say! What's going on?" John pointed to a knot of people following a man who was walking along the beach. "Probably some trader," remarked Simon. "He looks more like a teacher to me," said John. "Why not go over and see?" suggested Simon. In a moment John came running back. "It is Jesus, the Galilean whom Andrew and I saw with John the Baptizer! Andrew! Andrew!" he called. "Come and see him, Simon. Come on!" "I think I had better finish cleaning this net, John." "But this man is a Prophet!" "You go ahead if you want to." John gave Simon a disgusted look. When he turned toward the crowd of people, he noticed that they were moving toward him. _I wish they would come over here_, thought John. As if he had read John's mind, Jesus walked nearer the fisherman. Everyone was listening to a scribe who was asking questions. Scribes knew the religious laws and the sacred books thoroughly. "How can I get into this Kingdom you are telling us about, Rabbi?" "What is written in the Law? What do you read there?" asked Jesus. The scribe answered: "You must love the Lord your God with your whole heart, your whole soul, your whole strength, and your whole mind. Also, love your neighbor as yourself." "Correct," said Jesus. "Do that and you will live." Simon's hands were busy, but he smiled to hear Jesus answer the educated man so easily. The scribe felt foolish because Jesus had made him answer his own question. Hoping to escape embarrassment, he asked, "Just who is my neighbor, Master?" "There was once a man traveling from Jerusalem to Jericho," answered Jesus. "He was attacked by some robbers who took everything he had and left him badly hurt. After a while a priest came by, but when he caught sight of the man lying in the ditch bleeding, he went on without even looking a second time. A Levite came along a little later and he too passed by on the other side of the road. Then a Samaritan came along." Simon was listening intently. Like most of the people there, he looked down on Samaritans, and wondered why Jesus had brought this one into the story. "The two Jews had done nothing to help their fellow countryman, but the Samaritan stopped," continued Jesus. "He put salve on his wounds and tied them up. He put him on his own donkey and took him to an inn by the road. He paid his bill so that he could stay as long as it would take to get well. When the Samaritan left, he said to the manager: 'Take care of him. If you have to do more for him, I will pay you back when I come this way again.'" Jesus looked at the scribe. "Which of these three men was a true neighbor to the man who was beaten?" "The man who was kind to him," admitted the scribe grudgingly. "Then go and be like that yourself!" said Jesus. Simon looked at Jesus amazed, the net in his hand completely forgotten. _Not even John the Baptizer would say the Samaritan was better than the others_, he thought to himself. _No wonder Andrew and John had talked so much about this Rabbi whom they had first met in Judea!_ Attracted by the crowd, many more people had come down from the road. They were pressing in on Jesus so much that he turned to Simon and asked abruptly, "May I use your boat?" Simon was taken by surprise but he quickly recovered himself and said, "Certainly, Rabbi." Jesus asked him to push out a little way. Then he turned around and spoke to the people on the shore. "The Kingdom of God does not come like a flash of lightning so that you can say, 'Here it is!' The Kingdom of God is right now in your midst." "Does that mean that our enemies will be destroyed soon, Rabbi?" asked Simon eagerly. "The Kingdom of God does not come by violence and bloodshed," answered Jesus, "but by the power of God. It is not his will that you should kill persons whom you hate. You should love your enemies! Do good to those who hate you! Pray for those who abuse you. If a man slaps your cheek, let him slap the other one too. If he steals your coat, give him your shirt too. "If you love only people who love you, what does that amount to? Even bad men do that! It is your enemies that you must love and help. You must give without expecting to be paid back." "That is impossible!" exclaimed Simon in dismay. "God's Kingdom has power to change all kinds of men," said Jesus, looking straight at Simon. "His power is like a piece of yeast in a bowl of dough--the tiny bit of yeast quickly works its way through all the dough until every bit is changed. The Kingdom of God is also like a tiny mustard seed. It is so small that a farmer can hardly see it mixed with his wheat. But this tiny seed is so powerful that when it is planted it grows larger than most trees." Simon shook his head. He did not say anything, but he doubted if any such power existed. "Will you push the boat out into deep water?" asked Jesus. "I want you to lower the net for a catch of fish." "Rabbi, we fished all night and took nothing," protested Simon. "But if you wish, I will try again." Much puzzled by this sudden request, the two fishermen pulled toward deep water. The people on the shore watched them put up the oars; the boat drifted slowly in the wind. The two men lowered the net. It had hardly sunk below the surface of the water when the fishermen knew that they had dropped it directly in the path of a great school of fish. Startled into action, they pulled desperately at the net, but it was too heavy. The cords began to break. In great excitement Andrew stood up and shouted to James, "Come and help us!" With James and John drawing the opposite edge of the net into their boat, the four men succeeded in saving the huge catch. Jesus sat quietly watching from the back of the boat, which was now filled with fish to the point of sinking. Simon looked at Jesus and a strange fear took hold of him. There had been no fish all night--and now, at the bidding of this Rabbi, they had caught hundreds! Impulsively he fell on his knees at Jesus' feet and said: "Lord, I do need to be changed! I am a sinful man!" "The Kingdom of Heaven is like a net that catches all kinds of fish, Simon," replied Jesus. "You must follow me. From now on you shall fish for men." From the other boat, James and John had been listening to every word that Jesus had spoken. He now turned to Andrew and the two others. "If you will follow me, you too shall become fishers of men." When the boat came to shore, the people looked in amazement at the great haul of fish, but the catch meant nothing to the four fishermen. Without a single word they left Zebedee and followed Jesus back to Capernaum. [Illustration] 3. A MAN OF AUTHORITY It was not long before reports of the new Rabbi at Capernaum had traveled to all the cities around the Lake of Galilee. At Bethsaida, a little town three miles across the lake from Capernaum, farmers gossiped about the news as they worked in the green fields on the hills above their town. The name of Jesus was on the lips of everyone in the noisy market place; but the fishermen on the beaches knew most about the Teacher who said that the Kingdom of God was very near. One Friday afternoon, a fisherman from Bethsaida, named Philip, was netting fish from his small boat at the northern tip of the Lake of Galilee. The Jordan River emptied into the lake at this point, and there were often large fish to be caught. Spawned and fattened in the many tiny streams that flowed into the upper Jordan, they came down the river to feed on the weeds that grew thickly in the swamps at the river mouth. Philip glanced up at the sun. It was well past noon, time to be leaving. Philip drew his net into the boat, set the oars into their crude notches, and rowed steadily toward Bethsaida, about a mile distant. He would have just enough time, he reflected, to clean up, get back to the boat, and row across the lake before the Sabbath Day commenced at sunset. Philip landed and drew his boat a short distance up on the beach. "Say, Philip! Why don't you pull it up farther?" Philip looked around and saw a friend cleaning a net. Without pausing he replied, "I am going to use it again." "Are you going far?" But the question was not answered; Philip was already hastening up the narrow street toward his home. An hour later, he returned. Anxiously he glanced toward the sun, now nearing the horizon. "Where are you going?" asked the fisherman. Philip kept his back turned to the curious man. After he had launched the rowboat and was pulling away, he called out, "Across the lake." He knew the man had asked only to find out if he would be back before the Sabbath started. Nevertheless, Philip rowed hard for Capernaum; he was conscientious and did not want to break the Sabbath if he could help it. The white walls and small domed houses of Capernaum were only a quarter of a mile away when Philip heard a sound that told him he had left Bethsaida too late. The minister of the synagogue at Capernaum had blown his trumpet. Philip twisted around and saw that the mellow note had come just as the red sun sank behind the hills west of the lake. There were two more long blasts. From this moment, the Sabbath rest began. The minister laid the trumpet down on the flat roof of his house. No Jew worked after this signal. The women had already brought a full day's supply of water into their houses and were forbidden to carry any more. Fishermen were not supposed to clean nets or row. The market place was silent, for no buying or selling was permitted. The minister did not even carry his trumpet into the house. He would wait until sunset on Saturday when the Sabbath ended and then he would put it away. He lighted the great synagogue lamp. This was part of Sabbath worship and did not count as work. This shining light, hanging where Philip could plainly see it as he drew his boat up on the beach in front of Capernaum, made him feel a little guilty. Hurriedly he stored the oars under the seats and set out for the home of Simon, his friend in the city. Simon's house was in a high part of Capernaum, set back against the hills. It was not a long walk for Philip through the streets that led up from the lake front. Leaving the street of hard-packed dirt, Philip went under an arch into a square courtyard, open to the sky. The house was built on four sides, and doors led from a narrow porch into the rooms. Philip hesitated a moment and then knocked at one of the doors. "Philip!" Simon stood in the doorway, smiling at his friend. His broad shoulders and short neck made him seem burly. "Come in, my friend!" Simon called across the courtyard to his wife: "Bring some food! Philip has come." Inside, oil lamps were lighted and Simon's children were playing on the floor in a corner of the room. Philip was very fond of them. He ran his fingers through the hair of the oldest, a black-haired lad of seven. The child gave him a friendly smile. "What brings you to us on the Sabbath, Philip?" inquired Simon, half teasing, half reproving. "I did not leave the river mouth until about three o'clock," explained Philip, a bit ashamed. "I was very eager to come to Capernaum." Simon was immediately curious. "What made you come?" "Everyone in Bethsaida is talking about the new Rabbi who is teaching here," answered Philip. "They say that he talks of a new kingdom." Philip was a little surprised to see how intently Simon was listening to his words, but he did not pause. "I thought you could tell me more about him. I hear that he comes from Nazareth. When did you first find out about him?" "A couple of months ago John and Andrew went up to Jerusalem and when they came back they told us they had met this man," answered Simon. "They saw him baptized by John the Baptizer. The Prophet told them that Jesus was going to be a mighty servant of God. We didn't take it very seriously though--you know how enthusiastic Andrew gets. "We never realized what kind of person Jesus was until we saw him ourselves," continued Simon. "He isn't like an ordinary teacher. You feel that he is so sure of himself and yet he is so humble." Simon was deeply earnest. "Everything he says goes right to your heart, Philip. I can hardly understand what it is--there is some power in him!" Simon's wife entered. "Here is food for you," said Simon, as his wife set a bowl of boiled fish on the table. Hungry from his trip across the lake, Philip gratefully moved to the rough bench in front of the table and began to eat. After a while he asked, "Then you know this Rabbi well?" "Yes," answered Simon. "He has been down on the lake shore every day this week. I have been with him most of the time." "Doesn't that take a good deal of time away from fishing?" observed Philip. "Yes, some," replied Simon. "We do some fishing early in the mornings. But it is true that we don't do very much." Philip was thoroughly puzzled by now. Simon had always been a hard worker. But Philip could not think of a way to ask why his friend had changed. For a while Simon remained silent. Nervously his foot stirred the palm fronds that covered the floor. "You see, Philip," he finally said very hesitantly, "I have really stopped fishing. I am now a follower of Jesus." Philip was dumfounded. "You mean you aren't working with Andrew and James and John any more?" "They have left Zebedee too," answered Simon. "What in the world...." blurted Philip. He stopped short. "How are you going to feed your wife and children?" he asked. Simon looked at Philip frankly. "I do not know, Philip," he said, his voice firm. "But this one thing I am sure of: I cannot turn back from my decision to go with Jesus wherever he goes. I believe in him and am willing to do anything for him." Philip knew there was no use protesting further. Simon had told him what he intended to do. What could he say? Finally he asked, "When can I hear your Rabbi teach?" "He will be in the synagogue tomorrow," replied Simon. "I am sure you will understand why I feel this way," he added very earnestly. On Sabbath morning the streets which Philip had found so silent the evening before were filled with people. From every part of Capernaum they climbed to the place where the synagogue stood. It was on the highest hill in the city, because no building was more important to the people than their place of worship. Simon and Philip came hurrying with the crowd. At the door of the synagogue they stopped to catch their breath and looked at the lake below them. The water lay still and smooth in the morning light, but no one knew better than the fishermen how quickly a wind storm could sweep down the ravines between the hills around the lake and whip up dangerous waves. "Where is the Rabbi?" asked Philip. "He is probably inside," answered Simon, turning to enter the synagogue. From behind a row of pillars they looked for Jesus among the men who filled the room. In the middle of the room was a low platform with a desk on it. Seats were arranged on all sides. Over their heads was a balcony where the women sat. Simon pointed. "There is Jesus down near the front," he whispered to Philip. "We'll sit with him." Philip noticed the tone of reverence in Simon's voice. A row of dignified men sat in front of a heavy curtain at the end of the room. One of them came over to Jesus. Simon and Philip were too far away to hear what he whispered, but evidently he asked Jesus, as the visiting teacher, to take part in the service, because Jesus followed him and sat down with the elders. The synagogue filled quickly. Philip thought that many people must have heard about Jesus and come to Capernaum. Jesus walked to the desk on the platform. Philip was impressed by his strong voice repeating a prayer that was often used in the synagogue: "Blessed be Thou, O Lord, King of the world, Who formest the light and createst the darkness, Who in mercy givest light to the earth and to those who dwell upon it, And in Thy goodness, day by day and every day, renewest the works of creation. Blessed be the Lord our God for the glory of His handiworks, And for the light-giving lights which He has made for His praise. Selah." In the second prayer, Jesus asked God to forgive and help the people. "With great love hast Thou loved us, O Lord our God, And with much overflowing pity hast Thou pitied us, Our Father and our King. For the sake of our fathers who trusted in Thee, And Thou taughtest them the statutes of life, Have mercy upon us, and teach us. Enlighten our eyes in Thy law; Cause our hearts to cleave to Thy commandments: Unite our hearts to love and fear Thy Name, And we shall not be put to shame, world without end. Amen." Then all the congregation repeated their Creed in unison. "'Hear, O Israel: The Lord our God is one God.... Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, And with all thy soul, And with all thy might.' Remember all the commandments of the Lord and do them. 'I am the Lord your God, who brought you ... out of the land of Egypt' To be your God. I am the Lord your God." Philip leaned over and whispered to Simon, "Do you think he will dare say anything about founding a new kingdom?" "I have never heard him here before," answered Simon, "but he will say what he thinks." After Jesus had repeated two prayers of thanksgiving, the minister of the synagogue brought a heavy scroll to the desk. A man from the congregation read some verses from Leviticus; then several other men read short passages. The people stirred expectantly when Jesus stood up. Again Philip was impressed by the clear and convincing manner of his speech. "Listen to the words of the Prophet Isaiah," Jesus said. "The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, for he has consecrated me to preach the gospel to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim release for captives and recovery of sight for the blind. He has sent me to set free the oppressed and to proclaim the year of the Lord's blessing." Jesus rolled up the scroll. Every person in the synagogue waited to hear what he would say. "This very year," declared Jesus quietly but firmly, "is the year that Isaiah is talking about. You do not have to wait any longer for God to come to you. The words of Isaiah are true right now; God is here. The prophets tell you about a great day, but that day is not far in the future! God can be your King now! He can defeat every evil power. He will rule you if only you will open your hearts to him." Philip turned to Simon. He was disappointed. "What can he mean by that?" Simon did not answer. He was waiting attentively for Jesus to go on. "You think you are oppressed and poor," continued Jesus. "But I tell you that you will never win freedom by fighting and by shedding blood. Only the truth of God can make you free. Only his eternal treasures can make you rich! It is useless to depend on earthly things: moths destroy clothing; rust destroys iron; thieves steal money. Fire will burn down barns. Do not spend your lives getting things that pass away. Rather, store up treasures in the Kingdom of God. Only God's Kingdom is truly real. Only in his Kingdom are you truly free. Only his treasures make you really rich!" "But how shall we get this Kingdom? That is what I want to know!" whispered Philip hoarsely to Simon. "He will tell you," answered Simon. "You spend all your time getting ready for a Kingdom that is far away," cried Jesus. "You do not have to wait for God's Kingdom. God is here now, working among you." His voice became stern. "The trouble is that you do not really believe in God at all. You do not wish to give yourselves to him. You always want to live for yourselves a little longer. You are blind to the rule of God because you are stubborn and unwilling to obey his will. "The prophets tell you what God wants you to do! Have you obeyed them? No! Repent your sin! Give yourselves to God! On this very day you shall find his Kingdom!" The people were looking at Jesus blankly. They had never heard anyone speak like this before. But Philip was able to understand one thing: the Kingdom of which Jesus had been speaking was very different from anything he had expected. Behind them Simon and Philip heard a man say, "He doesn't speak as the scribes do!" Scribes always read or recited from memory the comments which the great Rabbis had written on the Law and the Prophets. Suddenly there was a fearful scream in the rear of the building. A man had jumped from his bench near the back of the synagogue and was rushing down the aisle. Insanely he yelled: "Ha! Jesus of Nazareth! What business have you with me?" "Let me out of here!" exclaimed a frightened man on the front benches. "He has a demon!" In his haste to get out of reach, the man tipped the bench over and it struck the stone floor with a bang. "Have you come to destroy us?" shrieked the madman. "I know who you are! You are the Holy One from God!" "Silence! Come out of him!" In an instant, Jesus had taken complete control of the man; as though all his strength suddenly melted away, he dropped to the floor and lay still. A single moan broke the tense silence of the synagogue. He seemed to be dying. Jesus motioned to the elders and they brought a cup of water. In a moment the man stood up. He was weak but in his right mind. Utter amazement filled the people. The elders were looking at one another, shaking their heads. "There is no doubt about it. He is free!" Others asked in wonder: "Who can this Rabbi be? He even has power over demons!" People pressed toward the front of the room to stare at the man whom Jesus had healed. After a while, they began to drift away, talking excitedly. Philip did not push forward with the curious crowd but stood staring at Jesus. Even after the people had all gone, he continued to gaze wonderingly at Jesus. He could hardly believe his eyes: The man who had been so violent now sat quietly listening to Jesus. Simon came over to where Philip was standing. "Do you now see how powerful his word is, Philip?" he asked. "Do you see why I follow him?" "Never in all my life have I known such a man," said Philip, almost speaking to himself. He could not understand what was happening within him. He did not feel excited; his mind was clear and cool--but Philip knew that some strange power was at work. Everything had somehow changed. Jesus turned to him. "Philip," asked the Master simply, "will you follow me?" Jesus' words were like the turning of a key. Philip wanted to speak only words of obedience: "Master! I will go with you anywhere!" [Illustration] 4. GOD IS NOW KING! Before nightfall, all Capernaum was talking about the Teacher from Nazareth who had power to overcome demons. What strange person had arrived in their midst? He had even dared to break the Sabbath law, for healing on the day of rest was strictly forbidden. Some believed he was planning to start a rebellion to set the nation free from Roman rule; but to the sick and lame of Capernaum, the news meant just one thing: someone had come to help them. Curious eyes had seen Jesus leave the synagogue with Simon. No sooner had the sun set, marking the end of the Sabbath, than hundreds of crippled and diseased persons crowded to the street where Simon lived. Jesus would not refuse them. In the cool twilight he taught and healed all who asked. As it grew darker, the disciples began to marvel that the people kept coming. They knew everyone was very superstitious and hardly anyone ever went out at night for fear of evil spirits. But as the hours passed, Simon noticed many people who were not sick or crippled. They came for another kind of help; they knew Jesus could give more than healing for the body. In the babble of voices Simon suddenly heard a man cry out sharply. The pain in the man's voice cut into Simon's heart like a knife. Simon scanned the crowd, but in the darkness could not see him. No one moved to let him through. Jesus looked toward the man. "Do you cry out to me?" he asked, raising his voice above the noisy crowd around him. "Come and I will help you." Unwillingly, the people made way and the man crawled toward Jesus. Something was wrong with his legs. A hush settled over the crowd when Jesus spoke. "Your greatest need is not to be free from pain--it is to be rid of sin. Repent and turn back to God. Believe my word and you shall enter the Kingdom of God!" Jesus stooped and laid his hand on the man lying before him. "O Father," he prayed, "heal this man of his suffering, in order that he may know thy truth and enter thy Kingdom." Jesus straightened up and held out his arms to all the people. "Come to me, all of you who labor and are heavy-laden, and I will give you rest!" The disciples felt the power of their Master as they heard him call on the people to repent. They had never known anyone like him; they had never heard a message like his. Again and again they heard Jesus say: "Do you understand why you have been healed? This is a sign that the power of God has come among you." It was after midnight when the last person left. Jesus was very tired. He looked at the black sky. There was no moon. The stars shed a faint light on the hills above Capernaum. Jesus turned to Simon. "It is time to rest." He went into the house. "The people had no fear of evil night spirits," remarked James. "They know he has power over them," commented Simon. In the morning, long before dawn, Jesus rose in order to pray outside the city. A few yards from Simon's home the street dwindled to a path, and Jesus had to push through the stiff, dry grass which grew knee-high all over the hillside. As he climbed, he walked around large rocks. When he reached the crest of the hill, Jesus stood for a long while gazing down at Capernaum, barely visible in the starlight. There was a little breeze from the east. It smelled of both lake and desert. The memory of the sick and lame people filled Jesus with sorrow. Some of these people really thought that everything would be all right if their bodies could be healed! What a terrible mistake! Had they understood what he had told them? Would they realize that they were thinking only of themselves? Perhaps their lives were too cluttered with little hopes and ambitions to see the will of God. How dearly they loved worthless things! Jesus found a hollow where the bushes sheltered him from the wind and knelt to pray. Dawn was turning the gray sky to blue when Simon was aroused from sleep by the noise of a crowd outside his house. He dressed hastily. "Where is the Healer?" shouted the people. Simon waved his hand for silence. "He is not here." His words were instantly drowned by a hundred voices. "Where is he?" everyone demanded at once. "I don't know where he is," answered Simon. "Will he be back? Where did he go?" Simon knew he would never succeed in sending them away. Andrew came out of the house. "Do you think we could find him?" asked Simon. "We can try," answered Andrew, smiling wryly. Without explaining their plan to the people, they set out toward the hills. Some of the people tried to follow, but Simon gruffly sent them back. The two men followed a faint path toward the top of the hill. For about a mile they walked, searching the slopes on both sides of them. "We may not find him at all," remarked Simon. At that moment Andrew caught sight of a patch of white ahead of them. "Is he up there?" Simon began to run. Jesus was kneeling in prayer. Andrew had seen a corner of his woolen robe against the dark bushes. "Rabbi!" panted Simon. "Everyone is looking for you!" He had interrupted Jesus' prayer, but Jesus was not offended. "I am not going back to Capernaum." "But, Rabbi," protested Simon, "hundreds of people need you. They are in pain. What will they do without you?" "I must go to the other villages of Galilee and preach the news of the Kingdom there too," replied Jesus. "But, Master, your word is the only help these people have ever had." He realized that Jesus had fully made up his mind to go. "Think of the blind and the crippled!" he cried desperately. "What will become of them?" Jesus answered with firm conviction. "Simon, they have heard the news that God has come to them. I have a greater work than healing the sick bodies--my work is to proclaim to everyone the message which gives them a whole new life! This is why God has sent me! I must go on to the cities of Galilee!" Simon and Andrew knew they could not change their Rabbi's mind, so at his command they returned to Capernaum and prepared for a trip through Galilee. At noon the disciples left Capernaum, carrying only a small amount of food, and met Jesus outside the city. Jesus knew it was hard for Simon to leave his wife and children. By late afternoon they had reached Tarichaea, a town smaller than Capernaum, about six miles south on the shore of the Lake of Galilee. Here lived many rich men who owned the fertile farms on which all Galilee depended for wheat. There was also a large fish business, because in Tarichaea fish were salted and sold to men who came to buy food for the Roman army. The market place was busy when Jesus arrived with the disciples, and a group of people quickly gathered to hear him teach. A young man in fine clothing joined the circle around Jesus. The disciples immediately recognized that he was a member of the party of the Pharisees because he wore large tassels on his robe. During a pause in the discussion he asked a question which Simon thought must have been troubling him for some time. "Good Teacher," he asked, "you have told these others how to enter the Kingdom of God. Now what must I do to inherit eternal life?" Jesus looked at the young man keenly. "Why do you call me 'good'?" he asked. "Only God is good." Then his tone softened. "You know the commandments--do not commit adultery; do not kill; do not steal; do not speak lies--if you obey the law of God you possess eternal life." The disciples looked at the young man with the greatest respect. Here was a really religious man! A Pharisee who kept all the Law--what more could God require? And he was rich. Did that not prove he had pleased God? "But, Teacher," replied the young man, "I have obeyed every one of these laws perfectly since I was a child. But somehow ... it is not enough. I am not satisfied." John was puzzled. _This man should be happy_, he thought. _I was just a poor fisherman, but this man seems to have everything._ The other disciples also wondered what Jesus could say to the young man. "You lack just one thing," said Jesus. "You must get rid of all your possessions. Sell your property. Go and give your money to the poor. Come and be my disciple." Shock and disappointment came over the young man's face. "I can't do a thing like that!" he exclaimed. "Why should I give my money away?" "You must sell all that you have and give to the poor," insisted Jesus. "If you want eternal life, you must put God first. If you go on clinging to the things you own, no matter how little you may keep back, you will never find the Kingdom of God." "But God gave me my money," protested the young Pharisee. "Is he not the one who gives all good things? Why should you ask me to get rid of things he himself has given me?" The disciples felt that his argument was logical. "I have kept every detail of the religious rules," continued the young man. "I even keep two fasts instead of one! I never break the Sabbath. Don't you think I have earned eternal life?" Jesus answered simply; he did not argue. "Any man who wishes to enter the Kingdom must seek the will of God above every other goal. Where a man's treasure is, there is his heart also. You have not given yourself to Him. You trust in your possessions and in your good deeds." _This is unreasonable!_ thought the young man. He turned and left. Yet the longing to be sure he had pleased God was strong still. "That is no solution!" he insisted, arguing within himself. "God cannot ask me to give up things he has given me. People turn from sins--not from their good deeds!" But he could not forget Jesus' demand: "Repent! You love your own riches more than you love God. Repent!" Jesus looked sorrowfully after the young man. "How difficult it is for a rich man to enter the Kingdom!" he exclaimed regretfully. "It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to give himself to God!" The disciples listened astonished. Finally Simon blurted out: "But, Master, if he cannot be saved, who can? He is a good man!" Jesus answered with the deepest feeling: "Simon, with man it is impossible. But with God--all things are possible!" "Well," said Simon, "if giving up things is the answer, we ought to have eternal life. We have given up everything!" There was bitterness in his voice, and everyone knew he was thinking of his children in Capernaum. Jesus felt great sympathy for Simon, and his answer was very gentle. "Yes, Simon, you have given up much. But you need not fear--a man who gives up his home and his property for my sake will never be sorry. He will receive back a hundred times over the eternal gifts which God gives those who love him. Many who now are rich will be the last in God's Kingdom; but those who are poor for my sake will be the very first in his Kingdom!" That night the disciples stayed in Tarichaea. They did not argue any more about what Jesus had told the rich Pharisee, but they were more troubled by these words than by anything else Jesus had said. His teachings seemed against everything they had ever learned! The next day, as the band of men walked with Jesus toward Nazareth, Simon brought up the question. "Teacher," he said earnestly, "I don't understand why you talked to that young Pharisee as you did. He was very sincere. The Pharisees do more to obey God than any others and this young man looked to me as though he tried even harder than most. God had even given him riches as a reward for his goodness! And yet you said he had to get rid of all his wealth in order to enter the Kingdom of Heaven!" Simon could hardly find words to express his strong feelings. "I needed to repent, but why should he? He was already a good man!" James summed up the thoughts of them all: "Rabbi, if a man as good as that can't enter the Kingdom, how can anyone?" Jesus said: "Simon, I want to tell you a story. Two men went up to the Temple to pray. One was a Pharisee--like the young man we talked with yesterday. The other was a tax collector, who had been dishonest. "The Pharisee stood by himself, a distance away from the ordinary folk who went in and out of the Temple, and prayed this way: 'God, I thank thee that I am not like other men--thieves, rogues, and immoral--like that taxgatherer over there. You know I am a good man. I fast twice a week and pay tithes of all my money.' "But the taxgatherer," continued Jesus, "went off in a corner where he could hide from people. He wouldn't even lift up his eyes as he prayed. Rather, he hung his head and beat his breast in the deepest shame and said, 'God, be merciful to me, a sinner!'" The disciples did not seem to understand, so Jesus said: "The taxgatherer left the Temple accepted by God. But not the Pharisee! He trusted in his own goodness rather than in God. If he had been humble, like the taxgatherer, God could have forgiven him." "But I don't see what that has to do with the young Pharisee," protested James. "He was not dishonest! Why should he be ashamed?" "This young ruler was like the Pharisee in the Temple," replied Jesus. "He was so confident of his own goodness that he could not see how far he was from what God wants him to be." "But, Master," urged Simon, "look at the things that the Pharisees do! They educate our children in religion in the synagogue schools. They never have anything to do with the Sadducees or priests who take money from the Romans. They study the Scriptures more than anyone else; don't these things count for anything?" "Men may do all these things and yet have no real faith in God," answered Jesus. "The Kingdom of Heaven comes to men who love God above everything else. There was something that meant more to that young man yesterday than God--and that was his money. Other men depend on other things; whatever they are, they must get rid of them. Even the most upright Pharisee must forget his pride in goodness and trust God as simply as a little child." John shook his head doubtfully. "The people will never understand that," he said. "Even though the Pharisees are often very snobbish, they are the best people in our nation." Jesus suddenly became grim. "The whole religion of the Pharisees sets them against the Kingdom of Heaven!" The men looked at him in surprise. "But Master," urged James, "we need them to help us set up the new Kingdom! They are more loyal to God than anyone else. Besides, we can do nothing without their friendship." "I know them, James," answered Jesus. "Men who are sure of themselves will never welcome what we have to tell them!" John shook his head but said no more. This was not his idea of the way the Kingdom would come. The disciples felt sure Jesus could not mean all he said. But two days later they realized they were wrong. Jesus had meant every word. After a short trip through lower Galilee, the men arrived in Nazareth where Jesus had lived until a few months before. His mother and brothers were still there, but Jesus stayed outside the town until Sabbath morning and then went with them to the synagogue. The rumors of Jesus' miracles had spread through all Galilee, and when Jesus entered the synagogue many people looked at him curiously. He saw many people he knew. There was the woman who had lived next to them for twenty years and who was a special friend of his mother's; there were several young men whom he knew well. He smiled across the congregation at one young man who had helped him in the carpenter shop after his father Joseph had died, when Jesus was forced to support the family. The minister of the synagogue, an old friend of Jesus', invited him to lead the service. After the prayers, he sat down at the desk in the center of the synagogue and opened the scroll to the Prophet Isaiah. Looking into the faces of many people who had known him from boyhood, Jesus knew it would not be easy to tell them about the Kingdom. He read the same passage he had read in Capernaum: "The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, for he has consecrated me to preach the gospel to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim release for captives and recovery of sight for the blind. He has sent me to set free the oppressed and to proclaim the year of the Lord's blessing." Jesus rolled up the scroll. Everyone waited for him to speak. "Today," he declared, "these words of the Prophet Isaiah have come true right here. God has sent his Holy Spirit upon me to tell you that he is now among you. If you truly know that you need God, your ears will be open to hear this word from him; but if you are proud, you will be deaf. Put your entire trust in God and seek his will! I declare to you that God's Kingdom is not far in the future; God has brought it to your door!" He paused and looked from person to person. "Who would have thought Joseph's son would turn out so well?" whispered one of the elders to a neighbor. "He does speak with ease," replied his friend, a grudging note in his voice. "If we could see him do a miracle, we should know for sure whether he is all he claims," said the elder. From the very first, Jesus had known that the people of Nazareth would find it hard to believe in him. Looking at the elders, he said: "No doubt you are ready to say to me, 'Do for us here in your own home town the things you have been doing in Capernaum.' But prophets are never accepted by the people of their own country. There were many Jewish widows who needed Elijah's help when the great famine came over all Israel, but God did not send him to any of them--they would not believe in him. He sent him to a widow in Sidon, a gentile! "Elisha could have found many Jewish lepers who needed to be healed, but not one of them was made clean. They would not believe in him! Rather, he healed Naaman, a Syrian and a gentile!" A deathly silence settled over the synagogue. They were not as good as gentiles! Gentiles, who were unclean outsiders! A carpenter's son telling them that God would pass them by for gentiles! The men began to murmur angrily. Jesus' voice rang out: "How can I do great deeds among you when you do not really believe God at all?" Open anger swept through the synagogue. "How dare he talk like this to us?" demanded one man, leaping to his feet. All over the room men began to crowd toward the front where Jesus stood. "Let us have order here!" The minister could hardly make his voice heard. A group of men rushed toward Jesus, who did not even step back. "Over the cliff with him!" shouted someone. In a moment they were shoving and hustling Jesus toward the door, yelling, "Over the cliff with him!" Carrying Jesus with them, the crowd moved swiftly toward a place outside the town where the hill dropped straight down. Then a peculiar thing happened. The men seemed suddenly to realize what they were doing. This was Mary's son! The son of Joseph, the carpenter who for many years had made yokes for their oxen. Wrath seemed to melt away. The men let go of Jesus' robe. They seemed almost afraid of him. None laid a hand on him as he walked through the mob which only a moment before had wanted to kill him. An instant after Jesus was gone, anger again came over the men like the backwash from an ocean wave. Some shook their fists in the direction Jesus had gone, but not one had the courage to follow. The disciples did not attempt to follow Jesus. They were glad that no one in the town knew them, and they wasted no time in leaving. They all realized that men who were afraid of Jesus might take out their anger on his followers. It was late that night before the disciples found one another and started to hunt for their Master. Jesus had left the city and climbed to a high ridge where he had loved to go as a boy. Now he looked down on the broad valley of Esdraelon, stretching south to the foothills of Samaria, where so many of the great battles of ancient Israel had been fought. Had he not always felt that someday he would be rejected by his own home town? Nevertheless, Jesus was not scorned by everyone in Nazareth. A few people remembered the place he loved and they came to him there. They were not rich people, and there were no elders from the synagogue among them. They were the sick and crippled; they were people for whom life was hard, and they believed the word which Jesus had spoken to them. The disciples found him teaching and healing these few. "These have heard my word," said Jesus to the followers. "To them the Kingdom is given." The disciples listened to Jesus telling the poorest folk of Nazareth the news of the Kingdom. When they left, Jesus spoke very plainly to the disciples. "Why are you so discouraged?" he asked. "Have we not preached the gospel of the Kingdom here?" "They turned us out!" burst out James. "They laughed at us! They tried to kill you!" Simon was bitter. "We should never come near this miserable village again. We might have been killed!" "If men are to enter the Kingdom of God, they must repent," answered Jesus. "It cuts them to the heart to confess that they have forgotten God and his righteousness. They hate us for teaching them the truth about themselves." The disciples sat in gloomy silence. Simon gazed out over the plains below. Here through many defeats in battle the Jews had paid the price of their sin--but Israel had not yet learned. Still the nation spurned the prophets whom God sent. Would the Kingdom never come? [Illustration] 5. WHO IS THIS CARPENTER? After their harsh experience at Nazareth, the disciples were prepared for other disappointments. Before they entered the next town on their journey through Galilee the men talked soberly, a little fearfully, about what might happen. But, one after another, the villages of Galilee welcomed Jesus. The common people listened eagerly to the news that he proclaimed, and many believed. The disciples began to forget that Jesus had been driven out of Nazareth. Late one Friday afternoon just before the Sabbath began, Jesus led the disciples into Chorazin, a town crowded in by the steep walls of a valley north of Capernaum. A full hour before sunset the hills to the west threw deep shadows over the village. It was cooler than Capernaum, thought Simon. Soon he would be home with his wife and children! But he was as glad as the others to rest in Chorazin over the Sabbath. They had traveled all week, pausing only to tell the good news in the towns they had passed through, and they were very tired. The men rose the next morning greatly refreshed, ready to worship at the synagogue. They were sure Jesus would be asked to teach. Most of the disciples expected the people to receive Jesus gladly, but Simon could not forget the last time they had been in a synagogue--at Nazareth. It was in the market places and on the streets, Simon remembered, not in the synagogues, that Jesus had been most gladly welcomed. As soon as they entered the synagogue, Simon decided that the whole town must have seen them arrive the night before; everyone was expecting them. Invited by the minister of the synagogue, Jesus took his place behind the desk on the low platform in the center of the room, and read from the Prophets. Then he told the people very plainly that God was among them in great power; that they must immediately give up everything that kept them from understanding God's purpose and devote their lives to him. Both the people and the elders listened closely, and Simon was not surprised when many people gathered around Jesus as soon as the service was over. The minister and the elders asked many serious questions, and Simon saw that they were very sincere. The things Jesus had said disturbed them deeply. No one noticed a very short woman quietly walking up behind the men who surrounded Jesus. When at last there were no more questions, Jesus turned to go. The men stepped back. For the first time, Jesus saw the woman. Shyly she moved away. Instantly he realized why she had come. Her back was terribly bent. "Do not be afraid," he said to her encouragingly; "come here!" She hesitated. _Does he realize that this is the Sabbath?_ Simon thought in alarm. As though he were alone with the woman, Jesus laid his hand on her twisted back and raised his eyes in prayer: "Father, I thank thee that thou hearest me when I pray. Set this woman free, I beseech thee, from the deformity which has bent her body these many years. This I ask in order that she may know that thou hast sent me with thy message of life." While Jesus was praying, Simon glanced at the elders of the synagogue. They were utterly amazed at what Jesus was doing. _Doesn't this Nazarene know this is the Sabbath?_ wondered the minister. Jesus had finished. He said, "You are freed from your infirmity." She stood up straight. "May God be praised!" she exclaimed. There were tears of joy in her eyes. "God's blessing on you. Rabbi!" The woman's friends had been watching from the balcony and now they ran down to the main floor of the synagogue and gathered around her. Amazed and outraged, the minister looked from the woman to Jesus and back again. Angrily he turned to the people. "The Law says there are six days in each week for work. That means there are six days for getting healed. What more do you need? Why do you come on the Sabbath?" Simon glanced at Jesus and almost shivered. Jesus had seen the distress and embarrassment of the woman. "You hypocrite!" The man cringed. He had not imagined Jesus would dare speak to him like this. "Do you scold this woman for coming to be healed on the Sabbath? Every single one of you will lead your ox to water as soon as you get home. If that isn't work, what is?" His scorn bit into the elders like a whiplash. "You say the Law allows you to give your cattle water. Hasn't this woman the right to be healed? For eighteen years her body has been twisted. She is a child of Abraham! Isn't she more important than any animal?" Jesus looked right through the men. They felt like fish wriggling on a spear. The friends of the woman stole triumphant glances at the elders. Simon knew Jesus was getting into trouble, but it made no difference: his Master was right! Without another word, Jesus strode out of the synagogue. The people left in the room felt suddenly cold, and all but the elders hastened away to their homes. Hardly wishing to look at one another, the elders sighed and sat down. It was not just that they were angry. They were baffled by what Jesus had said. Their respect for the Sabbath rule was sincere; they believed it was the most important regulation in the entire Jewish Law. No one who disobeyed it, they were certain, could possibly love God. "Never in my life have I seen such a fanatic!" exclaimed the minister finally. "He is dangerous," agreed another. "What will happen to our religion if the people begin to think that they don't need to keep the Sabbath?" "We must tell the people how serious a matter this is," said the minister. "I am going down to Capernaum tomorrow. I will stop and talk to our friend Symeon. He may know about this Jesus. Perhaps he can tell us what we ought to do." At the inn where they were staying, the disciples were gloomy and silent. They were worried about the dispute with the elders; but they were troubled also about the thing Jesus had done that morning. Jesus knew that he had perplexed them, and he was not surprised when the next day, on the road down to Capernaum, Simon spoke up. "Master, we would like to ask a question," said Simon. The others gathered closely around. "Moses told us at Mount Sinai, 'Remember the sabbath day, to keep it holy.' He told us never to work on the Sabbath. Yet, Rabbi, you healed the woman on the Sabbath. We _do_ believe she is more important than any animal--but still. Rabbi, you did break the Sabbath rule! Do you want the Sabbath forgotten? Do you intend to cast out all the laws and rules?" Simon's tense voice told Jesus he was deeply disturbed. The other disciples looked at Jesus gravely. "I have not come to destroy the Law," he answered. "Rather, I am showing you what it really means to obey the Law." "But you did heal the hunchbacked woman on the Sabbath, didn't you?" persisted Simon. "Unless you obey the Law better than these men who make the Sabbath so important, you can never enter the Kingdom of Heaven," replied Jesus. "We don't think they are right. Master," explained Simon. "We think that the woman was more important than the animals, which they feed and water on the Sabbath. But...." Jesus knew Simon was not satisfied. "Even though the Pharisees are very careful about little things," said Jesus, "that does not mean that they know what God asks of them. They obey the Sabbath rule--but inwardly they have forgotten justice and mercy. They all know that it is wrong to kill another Jew. But much more is required than that: if you even hold a grudge against another person, you have no right to pray to God. The Pharisees give much attention to small rules and forget the important things." "This seems so new," said Simon. "I don't understand very well." "I have only told you what Moses and the Prophets taught," replied Jesus. "The meaning of their words has been forgotten, even though the Pharisees talk about them a great deal." "But don't you think we are likely to get into trouble if we speak out like this in public?" urged Andrew. "We can teach the people, but I don't think we need to be so harsh with the Pharisees and the elders of the synagogues. We ought to be careful. The Pharisees are really good people and we must not offend them. How can we preach the good news to the people if we do? When we go to the synagogues, I think it is much safer to keep quiet." Jesus watched the men listening to Andrew and knew why they agreed. He knew the inward emptiness of fear--fear of a future they could not know. Andrew was right; their peril was increasing every day. But Jesus shook his head. "My followers," he said, "do not think that I was sent to bring peace to this nation. I came to bring strife. It cannot be any other way. Men enter the Kingdom of God only through conflict and pain." When the disciples arrived in Capernaum on the day after the Sabbath, they heard a report that dismayed them: John the Baptizer had been thrown into prison by King Herod. They found out about it through one of his followers who had come to Capernaum to find Jesus and was waiting for them at Simon's home. The man's name was Jacob. Andrew and John remembered him as one of the Baptizer's most loyal disciples. "What made the king do it?" asked Andrew. "John told the king he was doing wrong in the sight of God," replied Jacob. _John is no bolder than Jesus_, thought Andrew. Jacob added, "John himself told us just before he was taken prisoner that we should come to you." Andrew turned to Jesus. "What will Herod do to him?" "There is no way to tell. We must be prepared to hear the worst." "Why did John send you to us?" Simon asked Jacob. "Some of us went to him and told him that more people were following your Master than were following him," answered the man. "He just said to us: 'Didn't I tell you that I am not the Christ? I am glad that Jesus has many followers. He must grow even stronger, and I must decrease.' When he was thrown into prison, I came to you." Andrew looked at Jesus and spoke the thought in the minds of them all: "If we go on proclaiming the gospel, the same thing may happen to us." Jesus' answer was firm: "Nothing must stand in our way. We speak for God." Never before had the men felt the strength of Jesus as they did now. There was not a trace of fear in his actions. He knew that their danger was increasing every day! And he acted with such authority! Everything he said or did proved that he knew what he was about. It was his certainty that convinced the people! An event occurred on the second day of their return to Capernaum which showed the disciples that they might soon share the fate of John the Baptizer. It did not take many hours for the report to spread through all Capernaum that Jesus was back in the city. From every corner of the town came those needing help--not only the sick and lame, but people of all kinds who were restless and dissatisfied. So many people crowded into the courtyard of Simon's home that Jesus decided to stand in the doorway of his room where he could see them all. The porch roof shaded him. He was about to raise his hand to quiet the people when Andrew hurried to him. "Master," he whispered excitedly, "there are Pharisees and their scribes outside." "Well, bring them in." Andrew was amazed. "But, Master, some of them are from Jerusalem!" Jesus knew what that meant. Over the crowd he caught Simon's eye. The fisherman was worried. _From Jerusalem!_ Simon was thinking. _They have come to see if what we are teaching is against the Law of Moses._ Jesus realized that news of his preaching must have traveled to Jerusalem. He knew that officials of the Pharisees would come to hear him personally. He expected no friendliness from them; but he was ready. He glanced behind him. "There is room for them there. Bring them in." Andrew looked anxiously at Jesus. "O Master, don't...." Jesus looked at him. "Courage, Andrew! Make certain that they see and hear everything that happens." People stepped back respectfully as the scribes and Pharisees came in. Jesus paid no special attention. He had turned to the people who stood before him. "I have been sent by God with news," he began. "If you are poor, you can be rich if you will humble your heart and trust God." He saw a man covered with sores. "Are you unclean?" he said, looking at him. "God will accept you. You are clean in his sight if your heart is turned toward him. "Are you full of fears and worries? Come unto me, all of you that are burdened in spirit, and I will give you rest." There were many outside the house who could not get in because there was no room. Among them were four men carrying a stretcher. On it lay a man who was helpless from paralysis. His body had wasted away to skin and bone. His four friends had heard about Jesus' power, but now they stood in front of the house in dismay. "We can never get in," said one. "There's no use waiting until they leave," said another. "Let's take him back," said the first, discouraged. "No indeed!" The others were determined. "I am sure he will be healed if we can just find some way to get through," said one of them. The fourth man was gazing at a staircase that led up to the roof of the house next to Simon's home. "Look! Why can't we get in that way?" In a moment the men had climbed the stairs and stepped across the narrow space that separated them from the roof of Simon's house. On the porch under them, they could hear Jesus talking. It took about fifteen minutes to lift the tile from the porch roof, tie ropes to the stretcher, and lower the man toward Jesus. Everybody stared as the paralyzed man slowly came to rest at the feet of Jesus. "My son!" Jesus' voice could be clearly heard in the hush of the courtyard. "Your sins are forgiven." The statement took everyone by surprise. Andrew saw a scribe whisper to a friend. "Did you hear what he said?" remarked the scribe whom Andrew was watching. His friend nodded. A woman who knew the sick man said: "Is this man paralyzed because he sinned? He was born this way, wasn't he?" "He has been a very good man," answered her husband. Jesus turned to the scribes and Pharisees. "Why are you wondering about what I said? Tell me which is easier, to say to this man, 'Your sins are forgiven,' or to say, 'Rise, take up your pallet and walk'?" None tried to speak. Then Jesus said, "'But that you may know that the Son of man has authority on earth to forgive sins'"--he turned to the sick man--"Get up! Pick up your bed and carry it away!" Strength surged into the wasted frame of the paralytic. He rose and did as Jesus told him. A whisper ran over the crowd. The Pharisees and scribes sat silent. Watching them carefully, Simon saw that they were puzzled. An elderly man, who appeared to be a leader, whispered to a friend, "He actually claims to forgive sin! God alone can do that." The Pharisees and scribes rose to leave. They walked through the crowd without looking at the people. When they were outside, the elderly leader shook his head very gravely. "I had hoped this man would be a friend of the Law, but I am afraid he is not. 'Your sins are forgiven!' What a blasphemous thing for a man to dare to say!" [Illustration] 6. THE OLD AND THE NEW "Rabbi, it is a serious mistake for us to mix with outcasts!" Simon was disturbed. Jesus had summoned a tax collector named Levi to follow him. On this night the tax collector had asked Jesus and his disciples to come to his home for dinner. "I know that Levi is different now," protested Simon, "but we ought not to get mixed up with his old cronies. We should take him away from that class of people!" Jesus came straight to the point. "Don't you want to eat at Levi's home at all?" "No!" Simon answered bluntly. "After all, look who he is! A taxgatherer! A traitor to our nation! For my part, I want nothing to do with him." Simon realized that his tone was not respectful. "I am thinking of our work, Master. People will not listen to us if we eat with those men. The best people will look down on us!" "Levi has sinned," answered Jesus. "That is why we called him to join us. His friends have sinned. We are going to eat with them because they need help. And do not forget, Simon, you will be judged by the same measuring stick that you use on Levi's friends." "I am far from perfect. Rabbi," persisted Simon, "but I try to obey the Law." His tone became bitter. "Anyway, I never worked for King Herod! I cannot stand the idea of sitting down at the same table with tax collectors. It might as well be a gang of robbers!" "Simon," said Jesus sternly, "before you start looking for the sliver in Levi's eye you had better dig the tree trunk out of your own." Strongly rebuked, Simon consented to eat with Levi and his friends, but he was very unwilling. The next day two close friends of Symeon, the most respected citizen of Capernaum, stopped to visit him. The report of what Jesus had done came up. "What I cannot understand," remarked Symeon, a dignified man of about sixty, "is how a man who wants to teach religion can actually associate with such people." "For that matter," replied one of his friends, "look at the men who follow him. They are very common people--fishermen, this tax collector, and such like--not a Pharisee among them. Not one of them takes religion seriously." "And yet I have heard this Nazarene myself," continued Symeon. "He says many things that show he knows the Law very well. He knows he should not eat with people like that Levi!" "Did you hear about the healing at the fisherman's house the other day?" inquired the younger of the two visiting Pharisees. "Some men put a paralytic in front of the Nazarene while he was teaching. The first thing he said was, 'Your sins are forgiven.'" The others nodded. "The puzzling thing is that this young teacher seems very sincere," said Symeon. "He really knows a great deal--and no one can deny that he has great power. The people go out to hear him everywhere. I want to find out his purpose. I have a suggestion that may help us see what he is trying to do." The other men looked up. "You may think this is going a little too far, but I should like to ask him to come to my house." "But he is not a keeper of the Law!" protested the young Pharisee. "We should be as bad as he is, if we were to eat with him." Symeon nodded. "I realize that it will not be easy for you, but I think we should do it. If there is something good in this Nazarene, we should know it. If he is up to mischief.... Anyhow, I don't see how we can understand him unless we talk to him." The others said nothing, and Symeon took their silence for consent. "Of course," he added, "we will not invite the others--the fishermen and that tax collector. That would be too much! But I think it would be all right to have the Nazarene here just once." When Jesus told the disciples that he was going to the home of Symeon, Andrew was pleased. "I guess we have not offended the Pharisees too badly after all," he exclaimed enthusiastically. Simon too was relieved. "I hope. Master," he said, "that you will explain why we ate with Levi." Jesus said very little. It was natural for fishermen and workers to want the approval of the most respected citizens of Capernaum. Yet Jesus knew how little the Pharisees cared for people like his own disciples. There were many guests in Symeon's home, for this was the season of the New Year and every Jew left the door of his home open for any visitor who cared to enter. During the meal, both friends and strangers continued to come into the room, but Symeon was listening intently to Jesus as they conversed about religion. "The men who obeyed God in past times were not the rich and the powerful," Jesus was saying. "Very often our nation has listened to God's voice only after defeat in war. When men know they are weak, they turn to God." "Is this your purpose in going about and preaching to the people of Galilee?" asked Symeon. Everyone listened for the answer. "I am sent to tell our people that God is their rightful King. His power is present among us," answered Jesus plainly. "But most of you will not take my message seriously. You trust other gods, and your hearts are hard." The Pharisees looked at one another. Some were puzzled, others offended. "But surely you misunderstand us. We keep the Law very carefully," said Symeon. "If you are really a teacher sent from God, how can you mix with outcasts?" The young Pharisee's question was blunt. "I am not here to call the righteous to repent," answered Jesus, his eyes accusing the young man. "I am here to call sinners!" Irony came into his voice. "People who are healthy don't need a doctor. It is the sick who need help. It is to them that I am sent." The room was tense, but before anyone could ask another question, Symeon's attention was drawn away. He glanced around the room. It sounded as though someone were weeping! He examined the shadowy corners where the light of the candles did not reach. At that moment a woman stepped swiftly toward Jesus and dropped to her knees. Jesus turned and looked at her. He had not known she was hiding in the darkness behind him. Her tears fell on his feet. She loosed the cord that tied her hair. With its long waves she gently wiped Jesus' feet. Symeon, usually dignified, was irritated. "What kind of nonsense is this?" he asked as he rose from his couch. Jesus turned to him. "Do not rebuke her," he requested. _That is the trouble with leaving the door open_, thought Symeon. _Women like this are bound to get in_. Everyone there knew her. She had a bad reputation in the city. Symeon felt humiliated to have such a person in his house. _This Nazarene certainly knows all the worst people_, reflected the young Pharisee cynically. Suddenly a lovely fragrance filled the room. The woman had broken open a bottle of precious perfume and recklessly poured every drop on Jesus' feet. _Such waste!_ thought Symeon angrily, realizing what she had done. _I wonder if the Nazarene has any idea where she got the money to buy this oil!_ But he said nothing because he was very polite. Jesus turned to his host. "Symeon," he said, "I have something to say to you." "What is it, Teacher?" asked the Pharisee. "There was once a man who loaned money," said Jesus. "One of his debtors owed him two hundred and fifty dollars; another owed him twenty-five dollars." The guests were listening closely. "Neither of these men could pay back the money, so the lender said to both of them: 'I forgive you your debts. You don't need to pay me back at all.'" He paused and then asked, "Now which of these two men would be more grateful?" "Why, naturally, the man who owed more money would be more grateful," replied Symeon without hesitating. "Right!" said Jesus. "When I came into your house you didn't even offer to wash my feet--and everyone does that for his guest! But this woman has washed my feet with her tears and dried them with her hair! "You didn't welcome me with a kiss--and everyone greets his guest that way!" He pointed to the woman. "But she has been kissing my feet. "You didn't anoint my head with oil--and everyone does that for his guest! But this woman has poured precious perfume on my feet!" Jesus' voice was quiet, but all the Pharisees could sense the force of his words when he said: "She has committed many sins, but they are all forgiven and now her heart is full of love." Then Jesus spoke directly to Symeon and each word seemed to strike him like a blow. "But a man whose sins are not forgiven has no love in his heart." Then he said very gently to the woman, "Your sins are forgiven." Symeon's face burned hot. Never had anyone spoken like this to him! He was troubled by the suggestion that he was a sinner. All his life he had done his best to obey the Law. Had he not always prided himself on his good actions? Hurt and confused, Symeon heard a friend beside him whisper, "Did you hear him say that this woman's sins are forgiven?" Abruptly Symeon looked up at the man. He was right! It was an outrage for anyone to say such a thing as this! "You have no reason to be sorrowful," Jesus was saying to the woman. "Your faith has saved you." Symeon stood up, his shame forgotten. Why had he ever let this person disturb him? Anyone who talked this way was a heretic and a blasphemer, nothing better! Only God could forgive sin. They all knew the truth about this Jesus now: such a man was dangerous to all true religion. As a Pharisee who loved the Law, he would have to do all he could to keep him from deceiving the people. Jesus said nothing to the disciples about the events of the evening in Symeon's house. But two days later, while buying food, Andrew and John heard a rumor which they discovered later came from Symeon. "Should we tell the Master?" wondered John. "We must." Andrew was positive. They made a quick trip to Simon's home, left their food, and hurried out to the shore of the lake. As usual, a large group of listeners surrounded Jesus. "We shall have to wait until we can talk to him alone," said Andrew. A man whom the disciples had never seen before was questioning Jesus. "Rabbi, why do the Pharisees and the followers of John the Baptizer fast while your disciples pay no attention to the fasting rule?" Andrew and John exchanged startled glances; this was it! Jesus answered very clearly. "Tell me," he asked, "do the friends of people who are getting married fast on the wedding day?" "Of course not. That is a time for rejoicing, not fasting." "Right," answered Jesus. "While the bridegroom is with his friends they are not sorrowful. But a time comes when he leaves them. There is time enough then to fast." "But, Rabbi," protested the man, "the Pharisees say it is a serious sin not to fast." "Listen to what I say," said Jesus. "If you have an old coat with a hole in it, do you patch it with a brand-new piece of cloth?" "No, of course not." "Why not?" asked Jesus. "As soon as the new piece is wet by the rain," answered a woman very quickly, "it shrinks and tears the cloth of the old coat." Jesus said, "If you try to add something new to the old, the new destroys the old, doesn't it?" "What do you mean by that?" asked the first man after a moment's thought. "Listen again. When you make new wine, do you pour it right into a dry, stiff wineskin that has been used before?" The people stored wine in whole goatskins, tied up tightly at the legs and neck. "Of course not." "Why not?" "Because as soon as the wine begins to ferment it stretches the skin tight. New wine is powerful enough to rip an old bag to pieces!" "Do you understand now what I am telling you?" asked Jesus. "Never try to put new wine in old skins. The old cannot hold the new. The gospel of the Kingdom of God asks you to do much more than just keep the fasts." "The Pharisees don't say that," said the man doubtfully. "I don't know who is right. It is a serious thing not to keep the Law of Moses." "Do you know what you remind me of?" Jesus said. "I saw some children in the market this morning who couldn't decide what they wanted to do. Some wanted to play that they were at a wedding; others, that they were at a funeral. When they piped wedding music, the ones who wanted a funeral wouldn't dance. And when they piped funeral music, the others quit. It was impossible to please them all. "You and your teachers are like children who are never satisfied. John the Baptizer came and fasted often--and you said he had a demon. Now I come eating and drinking like other men and you call me a glutton and a drunkard. You accuse me of being friendly with tax collectors and other sinners. But what we do will prove to be right!" When the crowd broke up, Andrew and John walked back to Capernaum with Jesus. "Someone had been talking to the man who asked that question," declared Andrew. "Yes, I know," answered Jesus. "We must expect the Pharisees to criticize us. How careful they are to keep every little command of the rabbis--but justice, mercy, and kindness they forget. They would strain a gnat out of their soup and swallow a camel whole!" The disciples had to smile at the way Jesus put it. "They cannot understand what we are saying. We offend them--and when you offend men who take their religion very seriously, you must be ready for real trouble!" The next Sabbath Day the disciples realized that the Pharisees were not going to stand by while Jesus taught the people a new way of life. Jesus had traveled to a small town near Capernaum where he had not been before and so he was invited to speak in the synagogue. Several Pharisees were present and very much interested in what Jesus said. They seemed friendly, and after the service went walking with Jesus and a few other people who clustered around Jesus. The group passed through a field of grain outside the town. James and Levi were hungry, so they pulled the tops off some wheatstalks. They rubbed the heads of wheat in their hands and blew away the chaff. The Pharisees seemed offended by this, but at first they said nothing. Other people saw what the disciples were doing, and they plucked wheat too. The Pharisees became more and more disturbed and finally could keep back their protests no longer. They came to Jesus. "Rabbi, we noticed that some of the men here were pulling wheat," one of them said tactfully. Jesus said: "They are hungry. It is all right for them to pick wheat, isn't it?" "The scribes say it is all right to pick single grains. Rabbi," they replied, "but these men are rubbing out whole stalks, and that is against the Sabbath rule." They were sure that Jesus understood. "Have you not read in the Bible that David and his warriors took bread off the sacred table in the Tabernacle when they were hungry?" asked Jesus. "That was against the rule of Moses--but David did it!" The Pharisees were dumfounded. The first almost stammered as he asked, "What do you mean?" "I mean that if there was a higher law for David there may also be a higher law for me and my disciples," answered Jesus plainly. "But ... but we do not understand," faltered the Pharisee. "You cannot set aside a law. No one can. That is impossible. It is part of our religion. Whoever pays no attention to the Law is an outcast and a sinner." "The Sabbath was made for man, not man for the Sabbath," replied Jesus. "The Son of Man is lord of the Sabbath." The older Pharisee frowned and then flushed red. The muscles in his neck tightened as he looked at Jesus. "You dare to say such things!" he burst out. "You do not belong to us. You are an enemy of God!" All the way back to Capernaum the disciples talked about what had happened in the wheat field. "They just keep watching us to see if we do anything wrong!" protested James. "Personally, I don't think they even understand what we are doing," ventured Andrew. "They never listen to what we say. They act as though they knew everything about religion." "Yes, their kind of religion," remarked James indignantly. "They won't even speak to a leper! Who is going to go out among the people of our towns and let them know that God cares for them? Their religion is just for themselves!" "Jesus is the only one who cares about the outcasts," said Simon earnestly. "No one else does." Symeon hoped that Jesus would do something that would prove to everyone that he did not believe in God. The thought that Jesus might win the people over to himself struck panic into Symeon's heart. If that should happen, something desperate might have to be done. Meanwhile, however, he and a few others who knew how dangerous Jesus was had decided to wait. On the next Sabbath Day, the whole matter came out into the open. As usual, most of the Jews in Capernaum--common people and Pharisees, along with Jesus and the disciples--came to the synagogue at the hour of worship. The moment Simon and Andrew entered they saw that there would be trouble: there was a man present with an arm made lame from dropsy--and they knew Jesus would surely heal him if he asked. The synagogue was crowded. The people bowed respectfully as Symeon and the leading men of the town entered, but they smiled when they had passed: Jesus was there, and they too had seen the man with the lame arm. "Do you think he would dare to heal him?" one of the Pharisees whispered to Symeon. "I hardly believe he will," replied Symeon. "To break the Sabbath law right in the synagogue would be a direct attack on religion." At that moment the lame man went to where Jesus sat. Instantly the room was quiet. Everyone knew the charge against Jesus: that he broke the Law of God deliberately. Jesus looked at the man and said, "Will you come with me?" He led the man to the front of the synagogue where he could speak to the elders and Pharisees. "I ask you," demanded Jesus, "is it right to help or to hurt on the Sabbath Day? Should one save a life?" The men said nothing. "Is there a single one of you that would leave a sheep in a ditch all day long if it fell in on Sabbath morning?" Everyone knew the rule: A farmer was permitted to save a sheep on the Sabbath. "Well, isn't a man worth more than a sheep?" The question was clear to every listener: Which was more important, the Sabbath rule or this man's need? Simon smiled, but the Pharisees felt differently. Symeon could hardly contain himself. He wanted to rise up and cry out to everyone that these were trick questions; that this bold Nazarene was trying to tear down the sacred Law of God himself; that religion itself would be destroyed if he succeeded. But he sat still and said nothing. Jesus turned to the man. "Stretch out your arm," he said gently. The instant the man obeyed, his withered arm became as strong as the other. A murmur of awe went over the congregation. Symeon rose and strode out of the synagogue, followed by the religious officials of Capernaum. Outside, Symeon turned to the others and declared firmly: "We must save our holy religion at all costs. He has won over the people with his trickery, but God is on our side! We must go to King Herod and ask him to help us put this man out of the way!" [Illustration] 7. MISSIONARIES OF THE KINGDOM It took less than a week for the report that Jesus had defied the Pharisees to spread throughout all Galilee. Those who most welcomed the news were the Zealots. For a long time, they had been plotting to rebel against the Romans, but so far had found no plan that promised to be successful. They believed that Jesus was the leader for whom they had been waiting so long. He was brave. He stood up to the officials. He was popular with the common people. One of their leaders decided to find out what Jesus intended to do. His name was Simon. Well known in Galilee for his courage, everyone called him "the Zealot." He made a special trip to Capernaum that same week and came to Simon's home. Before the week was past he became a follower of Jesus. But there were many things he found it hard to understand. "Tell me," he asked Simon and James privately, "does the Rabbi intend to set up the new kingdom now?" Simon was cautious. "The Master has said nothing about that." The Zealot glanced about to make sure that the door and shutters were tightly closed. "Do you not know that he could easily persuade the people to revolt against Herod?" James was alarmed. "But we're not ready for that yet." Simon gave him a warning glance. He still mistrusted this man. "We plan to tell everyone in this country our message," he said guardedly. "If you are going to establish a free Jewish nation, you must do more than talk," declared the Zealot. "You should organize!" The fishermen looked at each other, doubting how much they should say. Finally James said vaguely, "We think it won't be much longer." "Why can't we do something definite about it?" said the Zealot. "Do you really think he could be king of the Jews?" asked James. "I'm certain of it!" replied the Zealot. "My people would follow him to a man!" James looked inquiringly at Simon. "I think most of the people would be favorable, don't you?" Simon shook his head doubtfully. "We ought to see what the Master thinks. King Herod has many Roman soldiers under his command!" "Listen, Simon," argued James. "The Master has spent plenty of time teaching already. Everyone in Galilee has heard about the kingdom." Simon didn't reply. "He intends to fight eventually," continued James. "Didn't he say he came to bring conflict and not peace? I think it is about time to stop talking and get to work!" Simon stared at the ground. "Well, one thing is sure," he admitted. "The Pharisees are all against us. They will keep us out of the synagogues." "That is exactly why I think Jesus should openly declare himself king," affirmed the Zealot strongly. "It is time to go forward!" Jesus had told the disciples to wait for him in Capernaum and had gone to the hills for prayer. He knew his work had reached a turning point. For several days he remained alone, praying and seeking wisdom from God. When he returned to Capernaum, he called the disciples together. "My followers," he said gravely, when they were gathered about him, "many times I have told you that the Kingdom of God cannot come without suffering. Men who hate truth hate anyone who speaks the truth." The men knew Jesus had made a decision. "The Kingdom of God has been proclaimed only in Galilee," he continued. "The time has now come to carry the news to all Palestine!" _That means Judea!_ thought James and John at the same time. In Jerusalem the priests and Pharisees were strongest. "Rulers will show us no mercy," said Jesus. "God is our only Source of strength. We must tell the gospel in every village and countryside. We must not miss a single Jew. You are to be my missionaries to this nation!" The men stirred and glanced at one another. The Zealot vigorously nodded his approval. No hiding in the hills for them; they were going forward! Fear mixed with eagerness sent chills through them. Jesus rose and stood facing Simon, who went to his knees before him. Jesus laid his hand on Simon's head and, lifting up his eyes, prayed for him. He asked the Heavenly Father to strengthen him and to give him the wisdom and courage he would need for the important task he was about to undertake. One by one, Jesus blessed each of the twelve men. He knew them better than they knew themselves and he prayed simply and frankly for each one. Awe filled them as they listened. The work was so great, and they were so weak! They were to teach and heal as Jesus himself had been doing! A new spirit gripped them. "Shall we too be able to drive out demons and raise the dead, Master?" asked Simon. "The power of the Kingdom is yours," declared Jesus. "You have both the right and the power to destroy evil wherever you find it--whether demons, sickness, or spiritual blindness." Then he gave them instructions for the journey that lay before them. "You are to travel two by two. Preach only to Jews, not to Samaritans or gentiles, for the time is short. Your work is to seek everywhere the lost sheep of the people of Israel. Return when this is done. "Take only a walking stick and one pair of sandals--neither food nor money nor extra clothes." "How shall we live, Master? Where shall we stay?" asked Simon. "When you come to a strange town, find someone who will open his home to you while you work there," answered Jesus. "Once you have decided with whom you will stay, do not change. Hold fast to your first friend." "What if no one will take us in?" asked Andrew. "If you find no one who will help you, leave that town immediately," answered Jesus. "God will judge any town that will not hear your message. "This is your gospel: Tell all Jews that God has come among us. Tell them that his power is right now at work. Tell them that he is the ruler of all who trust him. Warn them to repent and turn to him now." The disciples realized that they would have to face the people without Jesus. "I am sending you out like sheep among wolves," warned Jesus. "You will be persecuted. Never put your trust in persons in high positions, for they will betray you. "If you are put in prison and brought into court, do not be anxious about what you should say. The spirit of God your Father will help you, and everyone who hears you will learn the good news that God's Kingdom has come." "Master, how shall we ever have strength to do it?" burst out Andrew. "Do not be afraid!" Jesus was standing now, ready to bid them farewell. "God has given you his own power. You carry news of eternal life; you are doing the work of God's Kingdom!" A few days later, one of the Twelve visited Nazareth. He saw the mother and brothers of Jesus and told them how Jesus was sending missionaries of the Kingdom to every village in Palestine. Mary was at once fearful. "That will put him in great danger," she said nervously. "He has already made a big enough fool of himself," remarked one of her sons rudely. He was a strong young fellow about twenty-five. "The trouble with him is that people make too much of him." "Don't speak that way, Jude," protested Mary. She had spent many sleepless nights wondering if the rumor could be true that Jesus had become a fanatic and was not in his right mind. "Bah! The only trouble with him is that popularity has gone to his head!" "What should I do, Jude?" asked Mary. "He is bound to get into some kind of trouble if he goes on like this." "Oh, I don't know." Jude wished his mother would stop worrying. "Perhaps we can make him come home." Mary snatched at the suggestion. "Let us go to him right away." She prepared hastily for the trip, greatly relieved to be doing something about her strange son Jesus. Upon arriving at Capernaum, Mary and Jude went directly to the home of Simon where they knew Jesus stayed. They found the courtyard crowded. Mary was dismayed. "Don't worry," said Jude. "He will come when I tell him you are here waiting for him." He began to shove through the tightly packed people. There were angry murmurs, but Jude paid no attention. As he got farther into the courtyard he could hear a man shouting angrily. _That's not Jesus' voice_, he thought. Finally he reached a place where he could see his brother. Behind Jesus stood some of the disciples who had already returned from their mission. All around him were sick and lame people, but he was not healing them. He was standing silently before the man whose harsh voice Jude had heard. The man was completely out of control of himself. Jude couldn't see why he was so angry, but he thought this must have been going on for some time. "Who is the angry one?" he asked a bystander. "Some scribe." The scribe had almost run out of breath, but Jesus still said nothing. Irritated by Jesus' silence, he threw a final accusation at him. "You false prophet! You are a complete fake!" A man in the crowd suddenly cried out: "He is not false! He tells us the truth as no man ever did." "He has brought healing to many," added another. "How could he do that if he were not sent from God?" Others nodded. The angry scribe turned on the man. "Many magicians can heal and drive out demons! I can show you a hundred right here in Galilee who can do anything he can! Bah! This prophet of yours is a fake!" The man did not know what to answer. "I'll tell you why he can drive out demons," snapped the enraged scribe. "I'll tell you! The prince of all demons has got hold of him! That's why he can do it!" Scornfully he drove home his point. "Why shouldn't he be stronger than the demons? He is possessed by Satan himself." Simon flushed. The charge was crude and ridiculous. He opened his mouth to deny it, but he realized he could not. How could he prove the scribe wrong? Simon's anger turned to shame. Jesus' voice was calm and controlled, when at last he spoke. "Would Satan cast out his own helpers?" he asked the man, coolly. There was a touch of sarcasm in his voice. "A nation divided within itself will fall! Has Satan risen up against himself and given me power to destroy his own power over men?" Jude was amazed at the power of his brother's words. This did not sound as though he were out of his mind! Jesus did not give the scribe a chance to reply. "No!" he declared, speaking now to all the people. "I have no demon. No one can enter a man's house and take his property without first binding the owner with ropes. I have power to cast out demons because I have overcome the prince of all evil!" The answer could not be denied. Looking sternly at the scribe, Jesus said: "I tell you, men will be forgiven all their sins and blasphemies except one: If you harden yourself against the Holy Spirit, you commit eternal sin!" Jesus then raised his voice. "By the very finger of God I cast out demons--and because I have overcome the evil one himself, God is now ruling among you!" An excited woman cried out, "How fortunate your mother is to have such a son!" "The person who is truly fortunate is the one who hears and believes the Word of God," answered Jesus quickly. Jude looked at the woman startled. She had said his mother was fortunate--but to Mary Jesus was a great worry! Remembering why he had come, Jude began to push his way toward Jesus. When finally he could get no farther, he touched the shoulder of a man ahead of him. "Would you tell the Rabbi that his mother and brothers want to see him outside?" When the man delivered the message to Jesus, the disciples stepped forward and started to clear a path, but Jesus put out his hand and stopped them. He looked around at the faces of the loyal men who had left everything to follow him and at the sick and anxious people sitting on the hard-packed dirt of the courtyard. "Who is my mother, and who are my brothers?" The words were gentle, very different from his tone a moment before. "I tell you, you are my mother and my brothers! Anyone who does the will of God is my brother, my sister, my mother! "A true missionary of the Kingdom must be willing to give up his own family for my sake and take the people of God's Kingdom for his family. Anyone who thinks more of his own mother, wife, or child, than he does of the Kingdom cannot be my disciple." "Master, we have given up everything to follow you," said Simon. "You may have to give even your life, Simon," answered Jesus. "Yet great is your reward in heaven." Jude pushed his way out of the courtyard. The first thing he said to his mother was, "Jesus seems like another person." Despair darkened Mary's expression. "Do you mean that what the people are saying about him is true?" she asked. "No, no. I didn't mean that," Jude said quickly. "He is different in another way. He is ... he is not like us any more." He tried to describe Jesus but could not. "Well, what happened?" Mary was relieved but puzzled. "What did he do?" Jude then told her all that he had seen from the moment he had entered the courtyard. She listened, wondering at the son who had left her home only a few months before. When Jude finished she turned to leave. "Wait, mother!" said Jude. "Don't you want to see him?" "There is no reason for us to see him, my son," replied Mary quietly. "He doesn't need us to care for him. This is God's work that he is doing." That same day Mary returned to Nazareth, filled with wonder at the things that had happened. Not only Mary but the disciples too were amazed at Jesus' power. Even the Zealot, the most eager to start spreading the news of the Kingdom, saw how much he needed to learn before attempting to do Jesus' work. At the table that evening, Simon spoke the feeling of them all. "Master, how shall we ever be strong enough to be your missionaries?" "Whoever knows God, lives by his power, Simon," answered Jesus. "The evil one does not rule such men." "But I believe in God, Master," said Simon. "Yet I cannot heal anyone." He paused and then added in a tone of despair, "I could never have answered that scribe!" "Simon, if you had real faith in God--even a tiny grain--you would be able to do great things." "I have prayed many times and still I do not have the strength," said Simon humbly. "Listen to me," said Jesus. "Suppose you were to go to a friend's house late at night and say: 'Friend, will you lend me three loaves of bread? A visitor has arrived unexpectedly and I am out of food.' Suppose he were to answer: 'Don't bother me. I'm in bed and the door is locked. I can't get up.' What would you do?" After a pause, John answered, "Why, you just keep on knocking until he _does_ get up!" The disciples smiled. "True!" said Jesus. "He may not get up because of friendliness, but if you keep on knocking, he'll give you the bread just to get rid of you! But God is your friend! Will he not give you what you ask? But you must not grow weary in asking. "In a certain town," he continued, "there was a very unfair judge. He didn't care about anyone. There was a poor widow in that town who was being mistreated. Again and again she went to the judge and asked him to help her--but he never paid any attention. Finally he said to himself: 'I don't care about this woman, but she is becoming a nuisance. Perhaps if I give her what she wants she will stop pestering me.'" Jesus said very emphatically, "If this wicked man finally helped a widow because she kept on asking for justice, won't God, who is good and just, answer you if you pray sincerely?" Simon saw how little real faith he had in spite of all his praying. How often he had thought to himself. _Now I'll pray and see what happens._ He had been testing God, not trusting him! "O Master," he urged, "won't you teach us to pray as John the Baptizer taught his disciples?" "When you pray, say: 'Our Father in heaven, holy be thy name. Thy Kingdom come, thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven.'" Most of the time, the disciples had to admit, they thought only of persuading God to do what they wanted. "Ask your Heavenly Father, 'Give us today the food we will need to do our work tomorrow,'" said Jesus. "Anyone who serves God trusts him for all things he needs day by day. "Then you must ask God to forgive you your sins. But if you are not willing to forgive others, do not think for one moment that God will forgive you." "Master, how often shall someone sin against me and I go on forgiving him?" asked Peter. "Seven times?" "Not seven times, Peter, but seventy times seven." Jesus paused and then went on. "The Kingdom of Heaven is like a king who decided to settle his accounts with his servants. The king ordered one man, with his wife and children, to be sold into slavery, and all his possessions sold for cash so that the debt could be met. "The servant fell on his knees and begged, 'Master have patience with me and I will pay you every penny.' Out of pity, the king released him and forgave him the whole debt. "On his way home, the servant met a fellow servant who owed him a very small sum of money. He grabbed the poor fellow by the throat and demanded, 'You pay me what you owe me!' The man fell on his knees and begged, 'Have patience with me and I will pay you.' But he refused. Instead, he put him into prison until the debt should be paid. The other servants saw how unfair this was and they told the king what had happened. "The king called for the unjust servant and said: 'You wicked servant! When you asked, I forgave you all that you owed me--should you not have been merciful to your fellow servant, as I was merciful to you?' Very angry, the king threw the unjust man into jail to remain there until his whole debt was paid. "Neither can you be forgiven," concluded Jesus, "unless you forgive others from your heart." After a moment John said: "Do you really think God pays attention to us. Master? He seems so far away. Oh, I know he watches over the nation--but I am not sure he cares what happens to me!" Jesus nodded toward Simon. "Simon loves his children," he said. "Simon, if your little son should ask you for a piece of bread, would you give him a rock to eat? Or if he asked for a broiled fish, would you give him a poisonous snake instead? Or if he asked for an egg, would you give him a scorpion with a deadly stinger?" "No, of course not!" exclaimed Simon. "Well, then, if you can do that much for your children, do you not think that God will do far more for those who trust him?" Jesus lifted his arms to pray. It seemed to Simon that Jesus was praying specially for him when he asked the Heavenly Father to send the Holy Spirit upon them all. As they left the place of prayer, Simon and Andrew dropped behind the others. "What I cannot understand," said Andrew, "is how he knows all these things. Where did he learn it all?" "It is strange," agreed Simon. "You would almost think he came down from heaven, wouldn't you?" [Illustration] 8. HE IS MORE THAN A TEACHER Far away to the south, John the Baptizer was imprisoned in King Herod's fortress at Machaerus. Through the bars of his tiny window he could see the green waters of the Dead Sea far below and the rocky hills of Judea beyond. He did not expect to lie in this dungeon long. At any moment the Day of Judgment might come; God would send hosts of angels to punish wrongdoers and to reward his faithful servants. John listened intently to the news that his followers brought about Jesus. They told him all that Jesus did: his demand that all men should repent; the new teaching about the Kingdom of God which was the talk of men everywhere. John was amazed at the power Jesus had to heal many sick people; he was glad when he heard that Jesus was not afraid of the Pharisees. But as days passed, doubts began to creep into the Baptizer's mind. Could God have chosen this man to deliver His people? John could not understand why the deliverance did not come. Jesus was training only a handful of disciples to preach. It would take more than that to bring God's great day. At last the Prophet sent two messengers to Jesus. "Our Prophet, John the Baptizer, has sent us to ask a question," said the leader. "Are you the One whom God has sent to judge the wicked and justify the faithful?" This very question was stirring in the minds of the disciples. Why did Jesus not tell them plainly who he was? "Are you the Messiah of God?" repeated the man. "Or should we look for someone else?" "You know what I teach," answered Jesus. "You have heard about the things that I do. Go back to John and tell him that the eyes of the blind are opened; the lame walk; lepers are cleansed--the good news that God is present among men is declared to everyone who will listen." "But, Rabbi," said the puzzled leader, "what shall we tell the Prophet? Are you truly the Messiah?" "How do you expect to know the Messiah?" asked Jesus. "What will he do that you will recognize him?" The men did not answer. "Isaiah the Prophet said: 'Here is my servant, my Chosen One. He will not be loud and noisy: He will not raise a great shout in public. He will not break a bent sapling or even blow out the tiniest lamp flame!'" The followers of John murmured to themselves. "The Messiah--coming silently?... You say he won't even break a twig?" The ideas seemed to escape them, slipping away as soon as they were spoken. Andrew was distressed at Jesus' words. "Master, the Messiah is mighty! He will come from the sky in great glory. How can you say that the Messiah will come without people even knowing he is among us?" Jesus turned to the followers of John the Baptizer and said: "Go tell John what you have heard. He truly knows the will of God if he understands these things I have said." Impulsively Andrew reached out his hand to stop the men. But then he drew back: _Jesus had told them to go_. He turned to Jesus the instant they left and demanded, "How _does_ the Messiah come?" "Andrew," replied Jesus patiently, "don't you understand yet what I mean when I tell you that the Kingdom of God is at hand?" Andrew could not hide his disappointment. Jesus knew how hard it was for his disciple to grasp what he meant. Hopes that he had held for years were not easy to give up quickly. "Then John the Baptizer was wrong?" Andrew's voice was subdued. "The Messiah will not come with an army of angels to destroy the enemies of his people?" Jesus answered gently. "Among all men, none is greater than John. He was sent to prepare the way for me. Just the same, the very least person in the Kingdom is greater than John." Andrew sighed. He could not believe Jesus was wrong. And yet it was hard to be satisfied with a kingdom that did not set the people free from oppression, even if it was a kingdom of truth and help for the poor. "You will soon be sent out to spread the news of the true Kingdom through this land," said Jesus. "You must find out for yourselves how great is the power God has sent among you." During the week that followed, Jesus led the twelve men through the country on the other side of the Lake of Galilee. The power of his words and actions amazed his disciples. Not until the day they returned to Galilee, however, did the disciples begin to grasp for themselves the true meaning of what was happening. While Jesus was absent from Capernaum with the Twelve, disease struck down the daughter of a man named Jairus, an elder of the synagogue. Jairus had strongly disapproved when the high priest ordered the elders of his synagogue to forbid Jesus to preach there, but he had been unable to do anything about it. The doctors in Capernaum could not help the girl. Jairus was terribly worried. Then he thought of Jesus. Perhaps this great Teacher could heal his daughter! His heart sank when Simon's wife told him that Jesus and the others were in the country of Gadara, across the lake, and that she did not know when they would be back. Every minute that Jairus did not spend at the bedside of the sick child, he watched the lake for a sign of Jesus' return. Three nights he sat up with his little girl. As he hastened anxiously to the shore of the lake on the last morning, he said sadly to himself, "If the Rabbi does not come today, I shall never see my child alive again." Near the lake he caught sight of a crowd of people on the shore and broke into a run. Jesus had just stepped out of the boat. Jairus pushed into the crowd, thinking only of his dying daughter. He knelt imploringly at Jesus' feet. "O Rabbi! Help me! I am in great trouble!" The disciples looked at one another in mild surprise. Was not this one of the elders of the synagogue? "These fellows are much humbler when they want something," remarked Andrew to John. "I know what I'd do if I were in the Master's place," murmured John. Jesus instantly sensed the desperate worry that had driven every other thought from Jairus' mind. "What is it you need?" The disciples felt that the very tone of Jesus' voice was a rebuke to their vengeful feelings. "My little daughter," said Jairus, brokenly. "At this very moment she is dying. Please come and pray for her, that she may live, and not die!" "We must hurry," said Jesus and started swiftly toward Capernaum. The people followed closely. The disciples hurried to keep up with Jesus, but he paid no attention to them. The anxious father stayed close beside Jesus. Suddenly Jesus stopped. "Hurry, Rabbi," begged Jairus earnestly. "She may not live much longer." But Jesus seemed not to hear. He looked at the disciples, who were wondering why he had stopped. "Who touched me?" Jesus turned around where he stood. Simon laughed shortly and said: "What do you mean, Master? In a crowd like this, a dozen people could have touched you!" "Just the same, I felt someone." Jesus searched the crowd behind Simon. Most of the people looked at him blankly. Jesus continued to scan the crowd. Even Jairus held back his urgent protest to hasten. At that moment there was a disturbance in the crowd, and a trembling woman came up to Jesus. "I touched you, Rabbi," she confessed tearfully. Jesus said to her kindly, "Why did you do it?" "Rabbi, I have been sick for twelve years. I have spent all my money on doctors and I am worse than ever." "Why did you touch me?" asked Jesus. "I thought, _If I can touch only the edge of his robe, I shall be healed_." Then very simply she added. "So I did, Rabbi--and now I am well!" "It is your faith in God that has healed you," said Jesus to the kneeling woman. "Do not tremble and be afraid. It is faith like yours that God most desires." While Jesus was speaking, a man had hurried down the street toward them. Jairus recognized one of his own servants. "Hurry, Master! Oh, hurry!" he cried. But he knew it was too late. The servant came to him sadly. "She is dead. There is no use bothering the Rabbi any more." Jesus turned to Jairus. "Courage, sir! Do not be sorrowful." "What a shame!" Simon remembered his own children and knew how the man felt. "His little one is dead!" Jesus turned to the disciples and said, "You saw a woman healed through faith." They looked at him, wondering what he meant. To Jairus, Jesus said, "Come, take me to your home." All hope was gone for Jairus, but obediently he led the way. Already the hired wailers filled Jairus' house. Their loud cries of grief, the shrill sound of flutes playing funeral music, and the hysterical weeping of the friends of the child's mother made such noise that Jesus could hardly be heard. "Why all this wailing?" Jesus cried. The noise quieted a little. "The child is not dead! She is only asleep!" The wailers burst into derisive laughter. "She sleeps soundly!" "Clear this crowd out of here," Jesus commanded. Jairus was glad to be rid of them. Amid angry murmurs, he sent every single one of them out of the house. Several of the disciples were waiting outside; they watched the hired wailers leave. "What do you suppose is going on?" asked Andrew. They waited a little longer, but at last the suspense was too much. "Come on," said the Zealot, "let's go in." They pressed through the front door into an empty room. "Where have they gone?" The sound of soft weeping came from the next room. Hesitating now, they went nearer so that they could look through a doorway. The men never forgot what they saw. The little girl was standing beside the bed looking up at Jesus. He held her hand in his. Her mother had thrown her arms around Jairus and was weeping. Simon, James, and John stood speechless, staring at the child who a moment before had been lying dead. "She is alive!" gasped Andrew. The child turned toward them, but the disciples shrank back as though fearful of what they saw. "I'm hungry," she said. Jesus gripped Jairus' shoulder gently. "Give the child something to eat now." Neither of the parents replied; but they kneeled before Jesus. The awed disciples turned toward Jesus. Could this man who gave life to the dead be the Master they knew so well? "For your sakes," Jesus said, "I am glad I was not here when this child died." His words struck deep into the memories of the disciples. "I have come to tell you what life really is. This child was dead and lives again. But I warn you: there is a kind of death from which no one can return. And there is true life: whoever has this life can never die." _Who is he--who is this One who raises the dead?_ The minds of the disciples raced, trying to grasp the meaning of what had happened. "Fear not the death of the body; he who believes in God can never die. Just as I have given life to this little child I give eternal life to all who put their trust in God." _Who can he be--who can he be--to give eternal life?_ Jesus turned to the parents of the child. "Rise!" Then he warned them and the disciples, saying: "No one must hear about this. Only you understand its true meaning." Turning to the disciples, he said, "Let us go now." Seething with excitement they could not control, the disciples followed Jesus. [Illustration] 9. HOW WILL YOU KNOW THE MESSIAH? One week later a messenger arrived at the court of King Herod, in Tiberias, a city not far from Capernaum on the Lake of Galilee. He carried reports from local officials throughout the provinces that Herod ruled. As he read them, the king became more and more alarmed. Finally he turned to a slave. "Tell my officers to come immediately!" When the high officials of the court arrived, Herod waved the papers and said, "Every single governor reports that there are Jews going through our cities and towns talking about some new kingdom!" He looked at them sharply. "Do you know anything about this?" After a moment one of them answered, "There is a carpenter from Nazareth preaching something like that." "Do you think he has anything to do with this business?" "I am not sure," answered the man. "I know a Pharisee in Capernaum who says this fellow wants to do away with the Jewish religion." The man speaking was one of the Herodians whom Symeon had stirred up against Jesus. "What sort of man is he?" demanded Herod. "He has great influence with the people," he said. "This Pharisee admits that his miracles are not tricks." "Miracles!" Herod became very sober. "Who is this man?" he demanded. "Has John the Baptizer risen from the dead?" Against his better judgment he had executed the Prophet a few weeks before. "That is not possible," answered an officer. "We shall have a revolution on our hands if this really is John." Herod turned to the officer who had spoken last. "Who is he, if he isn't John?" "People say different things. Some say he is Elijah; others say someone else, but they all think he is a prophet." "That is exactly what they said about John the Baptizer," exclaimed Herod. "John never sent out missionaries!" objected the Herodian. "That only makes it worse!" The king pointed to the reports in front of him. "What if these Jews are working for him?" "They might be," admitted the man. If Herod could have heard the conversation of Simon and Andrew at that moment, he would have been even more anxious. They were in high spirits as they walked the last mile of their trip back to Capernaum. "How glad everyone has been to hear about the Kingdom!" remarked Simon. "Do you not think that these people are ready to make the Master their king?" "They are very discontented," agreed Andrew. "Herod has crushed them so that they are ready to do about anything." For a distance they walked in silence. Finally Simon said: "I cannot understand what it is about the Master. Even evil spirits seem to fear him!" "Do you suppose this trip has made the others feel the way we do?" wondered Andrew. When Simon and Andrew arrived in Capernaum, they found that James, John, and the Zealot had returned ahead of them. They were telling Jesus about their experiences. "The evil spirits themselves obeyed us in your name!" exclaimed John. "You have good reason to rejoice," answered Jesus. "Nevertheless, you should rejoice because you have done the will of God--not because you have conquered evil spirits." "Well, Master," remarked the Zealot practically, "not everyone was glad to see us. I had trouble with the Pharisees. They just argue and argue." "We talked to them too," said Andrew. He was troubled. "Many times we tried to tell them the news of the eternal Kingdom, but they would never receive what we said." "Do you remember the story of the Sower, Andrew?" asked Jesus. "I never understood what you meant. Master," answered Andrew. "Listen carefully. The farmer who went out to sow was planting the seed of eternal life. Some fell on the road at the edge of the field, and the birds ate it up. This is like the person who hears my word but immediately forgets because Satan robs him of it. "Some of the seed fell on stony soil. It grew fast, but when the hot sun shone it withered away because it had weak roots. This is like the person who is very enthusiastic at first, but as soon as he has to work or suffer, he gives up. "Other seed fell among weeds, which kept it from growing strong. This is like the person who hears the word but is so worried or busy trying to get ahead of other people that he forgets all about God. "But then there is the seed that fell on good soil; it grew deep roots and produced a fine harvest. This is like the person who hears and really understands my words. He knows what eternal life is, and helps other people to find it." "Do you know," the Zealot broke in, "I should not be surprised if some of the Pharisees would join us when we show our strength!" "My Kingdom is not of this world," answered Jesus. "No one who is seeking political power will join us. Only persons who want to do the will of God belong in my Kingdom." "But, Master," responded the Zealot, "almost everyone listened eagerly to us! It will not be difficult to start the Kingdom in Galilee!" "We probably could unite the Jews against Herod," replied Jesus, "but that is not our business. God sent me into the world to proclaim the news of an eternal Kingdom!" Simon turned to the Zealot. "You seem to think the people listened only because they hope we will free them from the Romans. I do not doubt that they would be glad to be rid of the Romans; but from what I saw, I think they listened because we told them about the rule of God!" "Isn't that the same thing?" retorted the Zealot. Jesus saw that most of the disciples still did not understand clearly what he was trying to do. But he had little opportunity to explain further, because the people of Capernaum were every day crowding to the home of Simon. When all of the Twelve had at last returned from their mission, he said to them, "Let us cross the lake and find a quiet place where we can rest and talk." They hoped to leave unseen, but many people followed them down to the lake where Simon's boat was. "Don't you see what I mean?" exclaimed the Zealot. "What a wonderful chance we have to lead them against Herod!" "Let us go over toward Bethsaida," replied Jesus. "I know a hill where very few people pass by." James and John turned the boat toward the hills nearly three miles across the lake. The disappointed people watched Jesus and the disciples push off. A few men left the group and began to walk along the shore. Soon the others realized that they were going to go on foot around the lake. Some walked, but others ran. "I believe the whole crowd is going to follow us," remarked Andrew, looking back. "They are like sheep without a shepherd," remarked Jesus. By the time the disciples had rowed across the lake, the people were beginning to arrive. "I think I know a place where we can get away from them," said Philip. He had lived in this part of the country. "We cannot send them away, Philip," answered Jesus. When the boat landed he led the crowd to a grassy spot on the hillside overlooking the lake below. All afternoon Jesus taught them. When at last the sun touched the hills of Galilee across the lake, the disciples interrupted. "Master," they said, "don't you think we had better send them away before it gets dark?" "It is late," added Philip, "and there is no place to buy food here. They will need to go to the villages." "That isn't necessary, is it?" said Jesus. "You give them something to eat." The disciples looked at him blankly. "We didn't bring any provisions with us. Master," said James. "And besides, even if we had, it would never be enough to feed this crowd!" Jesus turned to Philip. "What shall we do, Philip?" "Master, even if there were a town near here, it would take far more money than we have to buy enough food to give each person a tiny bit!" "How many loaves have we all together?" asked Jesus. The disciples found, as they expected, that the people had brought no food. "This seems foolish to me," remarked James. Finally Andrew found a boy with some loaves and fish. The boy let Andrew take the lunch to Jesus. "Tell the people to sit down in groups," said Jesus. Before them all he held one of the loaves in his hands and thanked God for it; then he broke it in pieces. "Distribute this among the people," he instructed the disciples. "This boy's loaves and fish will satisfy your hunger now," said Jesus to the eager crowd. "If you eat only this kind of food, you will eventually die. I have another kind to give you: if you will eat the Bread of eternal life, you will never die! "Come and eat this Bread--you will never hunger again. You must hear and believe my word, for the Father in heaven has sent me to you." While the people ate, they whispered among themselves in amazement. Where had this food come from? They could hardly believe what the people near Jesus said: that he had broken the loaves and fish again and again, until everyone had enough. The Zealot turned to James. "They will do anything for a person who gives them food," he said. Jesus knew the people were thinking how good it was to receive the food. "God sent manna to your ancestors while they were in the desert," he cried out, "but they died. The true Bread from heaven gives you eternal life. Eat this Bread and you shall never hunger again!" "Give us this Bread!" called out a man in the crowd. "We do not want to be hungry any more." "Do not follow me because I give you loaves and fish--that kind of food perishes," replied Jesus. "Rather, believe my word, in order that you may have eternal life!" But the people could think only of the free food Jesus had given them. They paid no attention to his words. "We will do anything for you!" they cried. Then another shout grew loud. "You shall be our king! You shall be our king!" "They are going to compel him to be king!" exclaimed the Zealot. Jesus turned his back and called his disciples about him. "What is he going to do?" The Zealot was alarmed. "Surely he won't miss this opportunity?" "Let us go," said Jesus to the Twelve, starting toward the lake shore. The Zealot caught Jesus' arm. "But, Master...." He let go as Simon gripped his shoulder. "He will be king all right," Simon told him. "But he is not the kind of king these people want. I am sure of that." The crowd were dumfounded to see Jesus leave them so quickly. A few attempted to follow, but they soon realized that twilight was swiftly fading into the darkness of night and they turned back. "You row across to Capernaum by yourselves," said Jesus to the disciples. "I will follow later." The wondering men got into the boat and rowed away. Jesus stood watching them as they disappeared in the deep twilight. Then he turned and walked alone into the shadowy hills. "Sometimes I wonder if he knows what he is doing!" burst out the Zealot, bitterly disappointed. "What an opportunity! He just turned his back on them!" "You know he has no desire for political power," said John. "How can we ever establish the government of God if we never do anything practical?" asked the Zealot. "What will his teachings ever amount to unless we put them in the place of the old laws?" Simon could not forget the words of Jesus. "He did not say, 'I am your King.' He said, 'I am the Bread of Life.'" "What do you mean?" asked the Zealot. "Are you sure he intends to start a rebellion?" asked Simon. "I don't know what else all this talk of a Kingdom could mean!" "If he were an ordinary political leader--or even a Rabbi--there would be no other way," said Simon, reflectively. "But there is something about him that makes me think he is not going to do what we expect at all!" A gust of cold wind struck them, and the men looked up. Even the western sky was black. The boat was in the middle of the lake. Out of the dark night the wind blew in ever stronger gusts. "We're in for a squall," said James, worried. The boat rolled. It was heavily loaded, and water splashed in. "Steer into the waves," called Simon. James and John tried to pull the boat around, but the wind had caught them. The boat swung broadside and lurched dangerously in the trough of the waves. Water poured in. Simon stepped swiftly to the center and sat down beside James. Together they pulled the heavy oar; after a tense moment the boat swung slowly around. "We've got to bail this water out," said Simon. More came over the side with each roll. "If we don't get this water out, we'll never get to shore," shouted Simon. "What can we do?" cried the Zealot. Waves continued to leap over the side into the boat. Desperately the men tried to bail out the water. "We'll never make it!" they cried, seized by panic. Andrew clutched John's shoulder. "Look! What's that?" He pointed out into the blackness. "It's a ghost!" screamed one of the Twelve. The men forgot the waves. Terror gripped them. "O Father in heaven," cried Simon, "save us!" "Do not be afraid! It is I!" Gradually it came to the men that it was the voice of Jesus they were hearing. "Oh, save us. Master!" Fear began to melt away. Jesus was in their midst. "Why are you terrified?" he asked. "Have you no faith, even after being with me all this time?" The white crest on the waves disappeared. The boat lay deep in the water, but danger was past. Almost afraid to look, the disciples turned to Jesus. Who could he be--that he had power to calm the storm? "Did I not give life to the little child in Capernaum?" said Jesus. "Did I not give bread to the hungry crowds? Do you not yet understand?" [Illustration] 10. "YOU ARE THE CHRIST" The household of Symeon the Pharisee was stirring with excitement. During the day the servants had put the house in perfect order, and now the cooks were preparing a banquet for the evening. Symeon himself was trying to make up his mind whether he should wear his highly ornamented robe. Finally he decided against it and chose another with fine cloth but very few trimmings. A sensible Pharisee did not try to dress too elegantly when an important official was to be his guest. The banquet table was beautiful. The servants had lighted candles to celebrate the victory of the great Jewish general, Judas Maccabaeus, who had driven foreign tyrants out of Palestine and purified the Temple two hundred years before. There was roast lamb, deliciously cooked, and all the best food which Symeon could afford to set before his guest of honor. Nothing could be too good for a scribe sent by the highest authority of the Jewish religion, the high priest himself! Not until late in the evening did Symeon's visitor arrive from his long journey. At dinner the men ate in dignified silence, but Symeon was burning with curiosity. The messenger who had brought news of the arrival of the scribe had told Symeon only that the high priest desired more information about certain things that were happening in Galilee. Symeon was sure that the matter concerned Jesus of Nazareth. Only when he had finished the dinner did the scribe speak to Symeon. "You are a generous host, my friend." Symeon smiled and bowed his head gratefully. The scribe settled himself comfortably. "I come on very delicate business. It must remain a secret." The servants came in to clear the table, and he stopped speaking. Then Symeon sent them out and closed the door. "The high priest tells me that you know this Jesus of Nazareth. Have you kept a close watch on him during the last few months?" "Yes," replied Symeon, complimented by this confidential question. "I know all that he has done." "As you remember, several months ago we ordered the elders of all the congregations to keep this Nazarene out of our synagogues," continued the scribe. "But of course that did not keep him from preaching to the people in public places." He looked keenly at Symeon. "Not a word of this must come to the common people!" "Naturally," agreed Symeon. "Very well, then," said the scribe. "Do you think that we can convince his followers that their Rabbi is not to be trusted?" "That will be hard," answered Symeon. "He is more popular than ever." Then he told the scribe in detail how Jesus had fed the crowd of five thousand people. "It sounds as though he might even have it in his power to persuade them to revolt," observed the scribe when Symeon had finished. "They actually did try to make him their king!" exclaimed Symeon. "Does Herod know about that?" asked the man. "We have told some of the people at his court about it," replied Symeon. "If you want to know what I think--Herod is afraid to do anything! He thinks the Nazarene is John the Baptizer risen from the dead!" "But this Jesus is as dangerous to Herod as he is to us!" exclaimed the scribe. "That may be true, but just the same Herod knows that the people like Jesus," said Symeon. "Still, I am sure the king would put a quick end to this small-town prophet if it could be done without stirring up the people." "Look, my friend," declared the scribe. "You know as well as I do that these common folk will not follow anyone who goes too far for them. From what you have told me, we ought not to have much trouble showing these simple Galileans that he is not a loyal Jew at all." Symeon laughed bitterly. "Every day he breaks the tradition a hundred times!" A frown came over his face. "The trouble is--the people like it!" "That may be partly true," admitted the scribe. "But I believe these country people are still real Jews at heart. They may be crude and uneducated, but they will never follow anyone who is trying to destroy the Law and break down our religion. The Nazarene can break a regulation here and there, and they like it--yes! But let him say anything against Moses, or Abraham, or the great Rabbis--they will desert him by the hundreds!" "If that happened, Herod would throw the whole band of them in prison without delay," replied Symeon enthusiastically. "I believe you have struck on the way to stop this false Rabbi!" The scribe lowered his voice. "When do you think we could find him with some of his followers?" "He is always at the lake in the morning," replied Symeon. About ten o'clock the next day, the men stepped into the sunlit street in front of Symeon's home. Over their shoulders each wore a short cape, beautifully decorated with four blue tassels, one at each corner. Many Jews wore this cape, but only the Pharisees added extra long blue tassels. They descended the cobblestone street from the high part of Capernaum where Symeon lived and went toward the lake below. People bowed and smiled, but the two men paid no attention. They were used to having people make way for them. They strode into the crowded market place, already hot under the rays of the morning sun. The hoofs of many animals had raised a cloud of dust. Everywhere farmers and fishermen were shouting, trying to catch the ear of persons who came to buy. Only the donkeys, laboring under huge baskets of food, refused to budge for the officials. After a short walk through the narrow streets of Capernaum, Symeon caught sight of the lake, blue and cool, dancing in the sunlight. He pointed ahead of them. "The Nazarene is usually on the shore a little way beyond those fishing boats." They were approaching a group of fishermen who had drawn up their boats and spread nets on the beach. "We must show these people that he is not merely meddling with parts of the Law," remarked the scribe. "The fact is that he is not a true Jew at all!" A group of people had gathered on the shore, just to the right of the road. "There they are!" exclaimed Symeon. The two men stopped briefly at the edge of the circle of people and then walked boldly up to Jesus. Seeing their robes, everyone made way. "It is widely reported, Rabbi," said the scribe, "that your disciples do not keep all the sacred customs of our religion." Jesus answered them the same way he spoke to the common people that sat around him. "Where do your customs come from?" he asked directly. Just the opening they wanted! The scribe did not miss his chance. "Moses himself gave us these commands," he declared. "Yet I heard that your disciples do not wash their hands before meals as Moses commanded us." Without a moment's hesitation Jesus retorted: "Have you forgotten that Moses also commanded you to honor your father and your mother? Yet you have made up a rule that allows a rich man to say to his aged parents, 'I can't support you--I have given all my money to God.' The fact is that he has not given it to God at all; he has only paid a fee to the priests!" Jesus was indignant. "You talk about Moses, but you yourselves break his commands!" The scribe had to defend himself. "This rule was made by one of our great rabbis," he said. "You have put human rules in the place of the commands of God," declared Jesus. "Isaiah was talking about you when he said, 'These people give me respect with their mouths, but their hearts are far away from me!'" "Do you dare attack the great Rabbis?" demanded the scribe angrily. "Every true Jew at least respects their words. Yet you say that a man need not purify his hands before he eats!" "It is not what goes into a man's mouth that hurts him," replied Jesus, quietly. "It is the things that come out of a man--his words and deeds--that harm him." "Are you saying that we should disobey this law?" retorted the scribe. "Moses himself gave us this command!" "You cannot find eternal life just by keeping rules," replied Jesus. The watching people wondered at his calmness. "If you are really in search of the Kingdom of God, repent!" Dramatically the scribe turned to the people. "Do you see?" he demanded. "This man is not one of us! He wants to change the laws that Moses has given us! He is dangerous--do not believe him!" He stalked through the awe-struck crowd and left, followed by Symeon. For a long time, Jesus sat silently before the people. By the time he finally spoke, they were all wondering what he could say. "The door of the Kingdom of Heaven is open to anyone who will put his trust in God," said Jesus quietly. "The scribes and Pharisees claim that they keep the Law of Moses. They say they speak with God's authority. Do what they tell you if you want to--but do not act the way they do! They have made so many rules for you that no one can obey them all! Do they help you enter the Kingdom? No! They make life easy for themselves and impossible for all others! They do all they can to attract attention. Every day their tassels get longer! They sit in the most important places at feasts! They love the front seats at the synagogue! How they enjoy having people step out of their way and say, 'Good morning, teacher'! Men who belong to God's Kingdom do not want to be called Rabbi; they are all brothers and have only one Father, God in heaven." He stood up. "Let us leave this place," he said. Simon fell in step with Jesus as they turned toward Capernaum. The sun was still as bright; the waves on the lake danced as merrily as before, but the disciples took no joy in the beauty of the day. "Master, those men are trying to set the people against us," said Simon, deeply concerned. "They can do nothing against God," replied Jesus. "But they are deceiving many people," warned Simon. "Anyone who will believe them is blind to my gospel," said Jesus sadly. "Let them follow these blind leaders, if they insist--they will come to the same bad end!" It soon became plain that Simon was right: the scribe's attack on Jesus was having a serious effect. The next day each of the twelve disciples went to a different place in Capernaum to preach the news of the Kingdom of God. At the end of the afternoon, Andrew stopped to visit a fisherman whom he had known since childhood. "The men ought to be coming in from the lake soon," observed the wife of Andrew's friend. The dogs outside began to bark. "There they are now!" "Andrew!" An older man entered. "I am glad to see you. What is this I hear about you these days?" He sat down for a moment before washing. "Have you been getting along all right since you left your fishing? What is your Master doing? I hear some very bad rumors!" Andrew was taken back. "Why, I don't know what you mean." "Well, perhaps I should not have mentioned it," the old fisherman said. "But I thought you could tell me the truth, if anyone could." "What have you heard?" asked Andrew, puzzled. "Everyone is talking about your Rabbi," answered the man. "Is it true, what they are saying?" "I know nothing about it," said Andrew. "I thought you would have heard," said the man, hesitating. "One of the fishermen who listens to Jesus told us today that he intends to destroy the Jewish religion!" "That is nonsense!" cried Andrew. "Where did he ever...." Suddenly it came to him: This was what the scribe was telling people! "Look here," said Andrew with great earnestness. "Do you really think that Jesus is trying to keep people from believing in God and serving him?" "Oh, I didn't say that!" laughed the old fisherman. "I was only telling you what I heard." A questioning tone came into his voice. "But he _does_ say that you do not have to obey Moses, doesn't he?" Andrew did not know what to answer. It was true that Jesus had said there were more important things than purifying the hands before eating! "There is something else I heard," continued the older man. "How could a really great Rabbi come from Nazareth? That town does not amount to anything." "What difference does it make where he comes from?" protested Andrew. The old man shrugged and stood up. "It is a serious matter for your Jesus to say all the great Rabbis are wrong. I always wondered if you knew what you were doing when you gave up fishing." He looked keenly at Andrew. "Today I took time off to go to listen to him myself. He talks as if he knew more about God's will than Moses did! He goes too far for me. After all, I am a Jew!" Abruptly he changed the subject. "Will you stay for supper, Andrew?" "No ... no. I think I had better be going," murmured Andrew. Hurriedly he left. He was much upset by the words of this trusted friend. Purple shadows filled the narrow streets. Most of the people were already indoors. Andrew felt terribly alone. In his haste he tripped over a broken cart wheel and he was startled by its loud clatter on the paving. He began to run. He was relieved to get to Simon's home. Jesus had not yet returned, but Andrew found the other disciples in the midst of a serious conversation. "Everything the Master does proves that God's power is in him," John was saying. "We need him! Everybody in this city needs him!" Andrew burst out: "Have you heard what people are saying? That scribe is telling everyone that we are trying to wipe out the whole Jewish religion!" "That is what we are talking about," said Simon. Andrew sat down as Simon turned to John. "Of course, it is true that the Master really does put his own teaching above the command of Moses." "I know he does," answered John passionately, "and he is right! What should we do without him? We have already given up everything to follow him!" He jumped to his feet and began to pace back and forth. "Many people are leaving us," said James, greatly worried. "We shall soon have nobody." "Can he really be right and all the Rabbis and Pharisees and scribes wrong?" exclaimed Andrew. "If he were the Messiah, I should feel different, but...." He stopped. The other men were staring at him. The Messiah! At that moment Jesus entered the room. He saw James's anxiety. John stopped walking. Andrew was flushed with excitement. His last remark had stamped an expression of amazement and doubt on the faces of all the men. "My followers," said Jesus, grasping their thoughts immediately, "do not be troubled. You believe in God, believe also in me." He sat in the midst of them. "God has sent me into the world with the light of his gospel. I have not come to condemn the world, but to save people from darkness. If they do not believe my word, that is because they love darkness better than the light." John went back to his place and slumped down. "Those who are truly seeking God know that our gospel is true and come to us," continued Jesus. "But those who turn away from us do it for just one reason: their lives are evil. It is true that they obey many laws and seem very religious, but their hearts are proud. They do not really depend on God. They do not live close to him. They cannot endure the truth which shows them that they are in darkness." After a long silence, Andrew rose and walked out into the cool night. He looked up at the clear stars and wondered how long it would be before they would look down on a happy nation, ruled by God's Messiah. The turmoil in his heart had quieted while Jesus spoke. The new moon, thin as a curved sword, gleamed high above. A faint wind rattled the palms on the street in front of the house. Simon came out. "What if everyone leaves us, Simon?" asked Andrew abruptly. Simon's answer was firm. "He is the only one who has a message of eternal life. If we leave him, to whom can we go?" Jesus had seen how terribly disturbed the disciples were by the criticisms against him. Therefore, very early the next morning before the people began to come to market, he took them to the lake. They had no idea where he was leading them as they stepped into Simon's boat. What a relief it was to be away from the crowds of Capernaum! They were glad for the silence of the lake, smooth as a mirror in the calm of the dawn, after the noise and bustle of street and market. Through the mist the men could see a few fishermen working hard to gather in their nets with the night's catch of fish. Simon and Andrew recognized them, but the men did not look up and the disciples passed unseen. In the days when they too had gathered nets in the morning the four fishermen had always been glad to feel the warming rays of the sun breaking through the blanket of fog. The mist began now to tear into ragged pieces, clinging here and there to the lake. The disciples caught sight of the stately crest of Mount Hermon to the north, white with summer snow, standing guard over all Galilee. A breeze sprang up and blew the remaining mist to tatters. Little wisps of fog chased each other over the surface of the water as though ashamed to be caught by the sun. Jesus turned his gaze from the noble mountain ahead of them and spoke to the disciples. "I must warn you against the tricks of the Pharisees and scribes. Their false arguments sometimes sound reasonable, but the evil purpose of these men grows like a nasty mold. It will creep into your very hearts and destroy the Bread of Life." James leaned over to Philip. "That reminds me--did you bring enough food for this trip?" "The provisions ought to be stored under the stern seat," answered Philip. James reached under the seat. "Nothing here," he said. "What! No food?" The other disciples had heard what he said. They were hungry. They forgot that Jesus was speaking. "Look under the front seat, Andrew," said Simon. The men searched everywhere; there was but one loaf in the boat. James turned to Philip in a temper. "What in the world are we going to eat?" Jesus had watched them without saying a word. Now he spoke. "My followers, what have you to worry about?" "This stupid Philip forgot to bring the food!" said James, irritated. "Have you ever gone hungry when you were with me?" asked Jesus patiently. "You have seen me feed crowds--and yet you do not trust me! Many times you have heard me say that I am the Bread of Life--and now you are worried about your stomachs!" Tempers cooled as quickly as they had risen. "Do you not understand the meaning of the things I do?" asked Jesus. "You are right. Master," said James, shamefaced. "We should not worry about food." "Is that all I mean to you?" asked Jesus. "You do not understand why I fed the people, do you?" * * * * * Simon and John brought the boat to land at a deserted spot near the fishing village of Bethsaida, and Jesus led the men north along the Jordan toward the Lebanon Mountains. For three days they traveled, finally reaching the narrow valleys of the foothills of the Lebanons. The land was hilly but very fertile. Many people lived here: a few Jews but many gentiles. The disciples had never traveled this far north before. As the mountains grew higher, they turned westward toward the Mediterranean Sea. Jesus chose this road because he believed he could find privacy in which to teach the disciples. However, things were not as Jesus hoped. About ten miles from Sidon, a gentile city on the seacoast, they passed through a small village. The disciples thought they had not been recognized, but a short distance beyond the town John said, "There is someone following us!" The others glanced around. A woman was coming after them. "Let us hurry on," said Simon. "Perhaps she will drop back." All of them quickened their pace. After a moment Simon glanced around again. "She is running after us!" The woman cried out: "O thou Son of David! Have pity on me!" Jesus paid no attention. "Have mercy on me, Son of David!" cried the woman desperately. "My daughter has an evil spirit!" Still Jesus walked on. "Send her away, Master," said Simon. "She is just going to keep on wailing behind us." Jesus stopped. "God has sent me only to the lost sheep of the flock of Israel." "And she is a gentile," said James with satisfaction. When the woman overtook them, he was sure Jesus would send her away. Kneeling, the woman said, "Do help me, Lord!" The disciples were taken back. How did she dare call him "Lord"! Who did she think he was? When Jesus spoke to the woman his voice was kindly, but the words seemed harsh: "Woman, it is not fair to take the children's food and throw it to the dogs under the table." _That will show her she has no right to bother us_, thought James. But James was mistaken. "No, Master," the woman answered smiling, "but the dogs can wait patiently for the crumbs to fall from the children's table, can't they?" Jesus' face lighted up. "O woman, you have great faith! You have found the Kingdom of God. Go back to your daughter; your prayer is granted." The disciples were aghast. James burst out, "Master, what can this mean?" "How can a gentile be included in our Kingdom?" demanded Simon. "Do you not yet understand why I have come?" answered Jesus. "My Father sent me to declare that all who are far away from him may come back if they will repent. The Kingdom of God belongs to anyone who will come." "But that cannot mean all the gentiles," protested Simon. "You have forgotten what the Prophet Hosea once said," replied Jesus. "To certain people it was said at one time, 'You do not belong to God'--but now these very people are the children of God!" There was finality in Jesus' voice, and the disciples could say nothing more as the woman went home to her daughter. Jesus knew from their sullen silence that the disciples resented his kindness to the gentile woman. He saw Simon, Andrew, and James drop behind the group. "How can he do a thing like that?" fumed Simon. "He came to help outcasts--but not gentiles!" "She had the impudence to call him 'Lord'!" remarked Andrew. Nevertheless, not one of them dared complain against Jesus even though they went on talking among themselves after they left the country around Sidon. Jesus made it so hard for them to follow him! Yet they were bound to him, and nothing could drive them away. Jesus did not enter Sidon, but turned back toward the mountain passes that led toward Caesarea Philippi, a city near the foot of Mount Hermon. The disciples had preached the good news of the Kingdom in the villages of upper Galilee, and every day they saw people that they recognized. But something seemed to be wrong. When they had preached before, the people had welcomed them with joy. But now people hardly even greeted them! What had happened? Had they forgotten the Rabbi from Nazareth who had healed their sick? Where were the people who had said that Jesus had changed their lives and given them new hope? "Have the rumors about us spread here too?" asked James in despair. "Do you wonder the people think he goes to extremes?" asked James bitterly. "If they knew he told a gentile woman she could share in our Kingdom, everyone would turn away from us!" "Sometimes it almost seems as though the scribes were right!" confessed Andrew. Simon caught him up instantly. "Do you think that Jesus is trying to destroy the faith of our nation?" he asked sharply. Andrew did not answer. "Why did we follow him in the first place, brother?" urged Simon. Still Andrew said nothing--but he knew what Simon meant. "Should we go back to our fishing, Andrew?" "Oh, no!" answered Andrew, thinking of the hopeless years before Jesus came. "That could never be." "God has sent him to open a new day for us!" declared Simon firmly. Jesus had been walking with Philip, but now he dropped back beside the other disciples. The road lay between high rock walls. Their footsteps rang with a hollow sound. The shadows were deep; no other travelers were in sight. James said quietly, "We were just talking about what people are saying, Master." "What do they say about me?" asked Jesus. Simon knew that he sensed the discouragement and doubt of his followers. "The Pharisees say that you are trying to break down the Law of Moses," replied John hesitantly. There was a long silence. "Some people think you are John the Baptizer risen from the dead," added Andrew. The Zealot said: "I hear some saying that you are Elijah come down from heaven to prepare the way of the Messiah. That is what I thought at first." A tiny stream of water, flowing over a rock, could be heard in the silence that followed the Zealot's remark. "What else do people say about me?" persisted Jesus. "Many people think that you are a prophet. Master," answered Simon. Jesus looked quietly at the men around him. When he spoke his words came deliberately. His voice was strong and deep. "But, Simon, who do you believe I am?" To Simon, Jesus' question was like a powerful beam of light shining into the darkest corners of his mind, driving away the last black shadows of doubt. With a sigh he raised his head and caught sight of the brilliant blue sky high above the dark valley that shut them in. The answer to his Master's question was as clear as that sunny sky--why had he not known it before? Simon's lips moved; then came his answer: "You are the Christ, the Son of the living God." [Illustration] 11. A SECRET IS TOLD "You are the Christ--the Son of the living God!" Against the high rock walls of the narrow ravine, the words echoed in the disciples' ears. For many months not one of them had dared to say that he believed this was true--but now Simon had confessed it plainly. "Simon," declared Jesus, "unless God had taught you this, you could never have known it. From this time on your name will be Peter, the Rock. On the solid rock of faith like yours, I will build my Church--and nothing shall ever destroy it! "Whoever puts his faith in God is a member of my Kingdom. To you"--he looked around at all the disciples now--"I have entrusted the keys to the door of my Kingdom. If you teach men to believe in me, they shall enter!" "We will tell every Jew that you are the Messiah!" burst out the Zealot enthusiastically. "No!" declared Jesus firmly. "This must remain a complete secret." The disciples were dumfounded. "But, Master," protested Andrew, "a Messiah whom nobody knows can never lead the people!" "Now is the time for action!" exclaimed the Zealot. "I have work to do which you do not understand," answered Jesus. "I have come to save the people--but in order to do it, I must first endure much suffering." "We are ready to fight for you," answered Judas. "It will cost more than that," replied Jesus. "I will be rejected by the high priest, the Pharisees, the scribes--and every authority in our nation." "We can overcome them if we have to," said the Zealot impatiently. The answer came like an exploding bomb. "They are going to kill me," declared Jesus plainly. The men looked at him speechless. "They may try to kill you," blurted Andrew, "but they can never do it!" "I must die," repeated Jesus. "There is no other way for me to finish the work that God sent me to do." A great force rose within Simon Peter; words flooded his lips. "No! This cannot be! God would never let it happen! He has sent you to lead us! You cannot die!" Jesus' stern voice cut him short, "Get behind me, Satan! You are not on the side of God when you talk like that. You make it harder for me to do what I was sent to do! If I were to do what you want, I could never do my Father's work!" "Master, how can you say such a thing!" protested Andrew, defending his brother. "You do not know God's purpose," answered Jesus, turning quickly. "You have your own idea about what I should do--but you do not know the will of God!" Then Jesus spoke with great force to all the disciples. "I am not going to lead you to the victory you expect. If you are determined to follow me, you will suffer. No one who seeks worldly gain is fit to be my disciple. But if you are willing to lose your life for my sake--then you will find eternal life!" Peter was humiliated. To think that the Master could accuse him of serving the evil one! "Peter," said Jesus, now gentle, "the people of Israel have many needs--but I am sent to bring them eternal life in his Kingdom." Peter sat with his eyes cast down. Jesus spoke to all the men. "There was once a time when I was tempted to preach some other message," continued Jesus. "Soon after I was baptized by John in the Jordan River, I went alone into the wilderness to pray and to seek the will of the Heavenly Father. For forty days I fasted. The Tempter came to me in a vision and said to me, 'If you are really the Son of God, turn this stone into bread!' I could have great power over men if I were willing to satisfy the desires of these hungry people!" The disciples remembered how Jesus had refused to listen to the five thousand people who tried to make him their king. "But I could not do that," continued Jesus. "I remembered what the Scriptures say: 'Man does not live only on bread--but on every word of truth which comes from God.'" Peter was looking at Jesus attentively. "Then in my vision Satan took me to the highest spire on the roof of the Temple in Jerusalem," continued Jesus. "'Leap down!' he said, 'you will not be hurt: Aren't you the Messiah? The angels will protect you! When these people see you do such a marvelous miracle they will all fall down and worship you!'" Jesus paused. "Do you see why this was wrong? The Father does not give me special protection. He did not send me into the world to astonish people with miracles so that they will accept me--he has sent me to tell them his message of life!" The disciples again remembered another thing Jesus had refused to do: he would not perform a miracle for the Pharisees! "No man submits to the rule of God just because you amaze him with miracles!" Jesus spoke now to Peter. "Finally Satan took me to the top of a great mountain where we could see every nation in the world. In my vision I saw all the people who were oppressed by unjust kings. I saw all the wealth and power of the earth. Then Satan whispered in my ear, 'I will give you power to do anything you wish--to help people all you want--if you will give up this plan to proclaim the rule of God and will worship me!'" Worship Satan! The idea sent a chill through the disciples. "I did not come to set up a new empire on earth," declared Jesus, turning to the Zealot. "That is not what God sent me to do! We must not do our own will, but the will of the Father in heaven! I am here to proclaim an eternal Kingdom!" There was a long silence. "So I answered Satan, 'You shall worship the Lord your God, and him only shall you serve.'" Peter now understood why Jesus had rebuked him. "But if you die?" he asked. "How can you give men eternal life if you die?" "The Kingdom of God will come in great power when the Son of Man has risen from the dead," declared Jesus. The disciples were not sure what the Master meant by his last remark. They had more than enough to think about. After a few minutes they climbed out of the deep valley. Before them lay rolling woodland cut into sections by deep ravines which carried swift streams to the Jordan. It was very different from the rocky hills the disciples had traveled since leaving the territory around Sidon. "The Jordan River lies over there," said Simon, pointing east. The men paused and looked while they caught their breath. Heavy trees hanging over the edge of the deep river gorge concealed the stream itself. "Do we have to go through there?" inquired John. He remembered stories that travelers told about this wild country: lions and wolves lurked in the heavy growth of trees that covered the cliffs and gullies. "If we go to Caesarea Philippi, we will," answered the Zealot. He was familiar with this part of the country, having traveled through it before as far east as Damascus. John looked inquiringly at Jesus. "We will travel back to Capernaum in a few days," said Jesus. "But first we will go over toward Caesarea Philippi." He led them down the slope. "I do not blame him for not wanting to go back to Galilee right away," remarked Andrew as they walked. "The people certainly do not follow him as they once did," agreed Simon. "Things are not as bad as he thinks," said Andrew. "There are many people who would go anywhere with us. These scribes have turned some people against us, but we can win them back!" Simon shook his head. "Perhaps. But the Master has usually known what to expect. He has not been wrong other times." "Oh, I am sure it is just discouragement!" insisted Andrew. "He will get over it." Peter, however, was not satisfied. All the way down through the deep ravines that descended to the Jordan he said nothing. The sun was behind the hills by the time the disciples entered the dense growth of trees. The road was narrow, and they had to pick their way with care because of roots and overhanging branches. John looked fearfully from left to right as they went farther and farther into the forest. "I don't think it is very safe in here at night," he whispered to James. Several of the men were keeping a sharp watch, peering into the trees and turning to look behind. They wondered if Jesus knew that the tangled undergrowth might conceal vicious animals. "He must want to cross the river before nightfall," answered James. Peter and Andrew took no notice of the blackness of the jungle. At last Peter said: "The Master does not get easily discouraged. He means more than we think when he says he is going to die. He will tell us plainly if we ask him." "Oh, let's not talk to him now!" replied Andrew quickly. "I think we understand." Peter looked at him narrowly. "We ought to ask him, Andrew," he insisted. "We must be sure!" "There is time enough later on." Andrew was evasive. "I believe you are afraid of what he might say!" Andrew would not meet his brother's eyes. "Come with me!" Almost by force, Peter pulled his brother along until they had overtaken Jesus. "Master," said Peter, "tell us plainly what you meant by saying that you must die." "If I go straight on with the task God has given me to do, I shall be killed. You know what the Prophet says about God's servant: 'He was despised, and rejected of men.'" "But, Master," interrupted Andrew, "what good can dying do? If you are killed, how can we ever save the Jews?" "Not even the Son knows the will of the Father in some matters," replied Jesus. "God's servants cannot always understand him. He asks us only to obey and trust him." "You take away every hope!" cried Andrew. "What is going to become of us?" Peter put his arm across his brother's shoulder to restrain him. "Anyone who wants to save his own life will surely lose it," said Jesus gently. "But if you are willing to lose your life for my sake, you will find true life." Andrew's mind was whirling. He could not grasp the meaning of Jesus' words. Only Peter's strong grip on his shoulder kept him from answering with senseless protests. They dropped behind the others and Andrew burst out: "We are wrong! All this time we have been wrong!" He looked desperately at Peter and whispered, "Let us go back to our fishing boats, brother!" They stood facing each other in a little clearing. Andrew's panic shook Peter deeply. "Then you do believe that the scribes and Pharisees are right, Andrew?" But his brother would not answer. "Do you think that the Master's power comes from Satan?" Peter asked again. Andrew sat down heavily on a rock at the side of the road and buried his face in his hands. Peter could hear him breathing hard as he murmured, "Oh, I cannot escape from him--but I cannot understand him!" The other disciples had disappeared into the woods on the opposite edge of the open glade. Their footsteps quickly died away. The silence of the murky forest settled around the two fishermen. Tears came through Andrew's fingers, but he made no sound. He did not observe that they were alone. "Come, brother," Peter urged anxiously, "we must hurry. The others are getting ahead of us. This forest is dangerous after dark." Peter was greatly relieved when he and Andrew finally caught up with the others. A half hour later the men emerged from the forest and climbed the slope that enclosed the basin of the Jordan on the eastern side of the river. Their sandals were wet from fording the river, but they hardly noticed it, so relieved were they to be once again in open country. It was almost totally dark now. Only dimly could they make out the bulk of Mount Hermon rising directly ahead of them, hiding the evening star. Jesus led the tired men to an inn. "He must have intended to lead us here," exclaimed John, catching sight of the faint glimmer of a lamp in the courtyard of the building. He, Peter, and James stayed in a single tiny room. "This has been a hard day," remarked James wearily, stretching out on the bed. "I do not believe we shall leave Galilee again until we go to Jerusalem," observed Peter. "I wish we knew what would happen there," remarked John. "Do you think he will really be killed?" "You know what Andrew says," replied Peter, avoiding a direct answer. "I cannot believe that the Master is just discouraged," stated James flatly. "That is not like him." Peter nodded his agreement. He thought of how Andrew was inwardly torn. "I cannot escape from him--but I cannot understand him!" he had said. James blew out the oil lamp. The men settled themselves for the night. Peter spoke. "If we follow him to Jerusalem, we must be ready to suffer with him. We must not doubt." "Tell me, Simon Peter, how can the Messiah of God die?" asked James. The fishermen heard Peter sigh. "How it can be ... I do not know. I know only that we must decide whether we shall go on. Now is the time to decide...." His voice trailed off. Far into the night the fishermen stared open-eyed into the darkness. When at last they fell into a troubled sleep, they were no nearer the answer. At dawn there was a knock at the door of their room. The men stirred, and Peter rose. Scarcely visible in the faint light stood Jesus. Peter stepped back, and Jesus entered. "Will you come to pray with me in the mountain?" Jesus asked. The men dressed and followed Jesus outside. The road on which the inn was built lay at the foot of Mount Hermon. Its snowy crest rose majestically above them, shining brilliantly in the morning sun. A few days before, the fishermen had seen this peak above the mist that lay over the Lake of Galilee. The beauty of the mountain would have lifted the spirits of men whose hearts were less heavy, but Peter, James, and John had awakened with the same anxiety that had troubled their rest. They did not talk, but climbed steadily toward the summit of the mountain. At last Jesus stopped. Below them lay the valleys of Galilee. Far to the south a blanket of fog covered the lake. As Peter looked, he could not keep back his homesickness; on the shore of that misty lake lived his wife and children. The flood of sunlight had gradually crept down the slope toward them, and now the four men felt its warmth. "Let us kneel here and pray," said Jesus. While Jesus and the three fishermen were away in the mountain, a strange scene occurred at the inn where the other nine disciples had just awakened. Early travelers were moving along the road in front of the inn. Among them came a man leading a donkey on which a boy was riding. He stopped at the inn. "Has Jesus of Nazareth passed this way?" he asked the innkeeper, who was standing there. "Haven't heard anything about him," answered the man curtly. Suddenly he shouted, "Watch out!" The boy was falling off the donkey. His father leaped to catch him, but the donkey shied away and the boy fell heavily to the ground and lay still. "Ah, my son!" cried the father. He lifted the child gently and carried him toward the inn. "Here, you!" shouted the owner roughly. "Get that boy out of here. He has a devil!" The father hesitated and then started toward a long bench. "Let me lay him here," he begged. "Well, all right," grumbled the innkeeper. "But don't take him inside." People had heard the noise and were looking out of the windows. Philip and the Zealot came through the doorway. "What is the matter with your son?" they asked sympathetically. "He has falling sickness," answered the man. "He often hurts himself this way." He was wiping blood from a cut on the boy's pale forehead. The lad opened his eyes and tried to rise. "Stay there, my son," urged the father. He turned to Philip and the Zealot. "Can you tell me where I can find Jesus of Nazareth? I have heard wonderful reports of his power to heal." The two disciples glanced at each other. At that moment Judas and Levi came out of the inn. "This man is looking for the Master," said Philip. "Are you his followers?" cried the man. "I have traveled for five days to find you! If only you will heal my son!" Travelers had stopped and clustered around the lad on the bench. Almost all the guests at the inn had come outside. The four disciples looked at one another; none offered to heal the boy. "Some of you visited my own village and healed many who had evil spirits," said the father hopefully. He could not understand why the men hesitated. They still made no move toward the boy. Andrew came out of the inn. "Can you heal my son?" the man asked Andrew. Andrew glanced at the others. He knew why they hung back. He looked at the boy. The father's voice was urgent. The people watched intently as Andrew stepped up to the boy, lying limp but conscious. "Be gone from him!" commanded Andrew, as though speaking to an evil spirit in the boy. A shiver ran through his body, but then he lay still again. Scornful smiles curled the lips of the people who watched. A great healer, this man! He tells the devil to leave and the boy is worse off than before! Andrew flamed scarlet--but he was not thinking of the bystanders. In his heart he knew he was powerless to help the boy. The father bent over his son and then suddenly stood up. "You cannot help him! You have no power!" Andrew was stunned. For a moment he stood stock-still. Then he turned and walked away. "A fine proof of the power of the Nazarene!" remarked a man sarcastically. The people recognized him as a priest who had stopped a few minutes before to watch. The father of the boy looked around at the people, desperately seeking someone else to help him. "Where is your Master?" cried the father desperately. "Yes, where is your Master?" echoed the priest in derision. "You had better go and find him!" "He left a couple hours ago with three others," said the innkeeper, in a very matter-of-fact way. "He went up there." He waved toward the great mountain. The people looked where he pointed. "There he is!" cried a man in the crowd. Distant figures were moving down the mountainside. "Now we shall see if this Nazarene can do better than his followers," remarked the priest bitingly. As Jesus approached, he took in the whole scene at a glance: the sick boy, the despairing father, the sneering official, and the beaten disciples. "O sir, my son has a terrible sickness!" said the father. "He even falls into the fire and hurts himself." He gave a pitiable little gesture toward his son, stretched on the bench. "Your disciples could not help him at all!" Jesus turned to his disciples. They looked at him dully. Andrew stood a distance away; his face clearly showed his humiliation. Jesus' voice had in it more of weariness and sorrow than sharpness. "How utterly faithless you are! You turn your backs on God himself! How long must I teach you? How much longer must I endure your cold hearts?" He turned to the man. "How long has your son been like this?" "From the time he was a little child," replied the father. "If you can do anything at all, help us! Do have pity on us!" "Why do you say, 'If you can'? Do you not believe that I can heal this boy? Anything can be done for one who has real faith!" The disciples knew that Jesus might as well have been speaking to them. "O Master," the man cried passionately, "I really do believe! Help me to be rid of my doubt and fear!" Andrew realized that the man was like himself: torn between faith and doubt. "Master, help me to believe too," murmured Andrew. Jesus turned to the boy and spoke to him. He gave a loud cry and then relaxed. "He is dead!" the father exclaimed. Jesus stooped and took the pale hand of the youth. Immediately he sat up; then to the astonishment of everyone he stood. Jesus did not wait for the father's thanks. He did not even glance at the crowd, but turned to his disciples. "You had no power because you had no faith," he said directly. "If you truly believe in God, evil cannot stand against you. Without faith, you are helpless. But even the tiniest bit of real trust is mighty enough to change the whole world!" [Illustration] 12. THE GREATEST AMONG US The next morning the disciples could not help noticing that Peter acted differently. He had been as downcast and silent yesterday as the rest--but now he was talking eagerly with James and John as they walked ahead of the other men. "If John the Baptizer really was Elijah," exclaimed Peter, "then the Kingdom ought to be very near!" "Will John be raised from the dead?" asked James. "Jesus said that the Messiah would rise," remarked Peter. James said, "I don't see what he could mean by that." "Do you remember the voice from the cloud?" interrupted John. "Those were the same words that he heard when he was baptized: 'You are my beloved Son!' Only this time we heard the voice too." "It said, 'Listen to him!'" Peter's voice showed the awe he felt. "I don't know what this vision means, but I am sure he is the Messiah himself!" James and John did not reply. They needed their breath because they were climbing a steep hill. When they reached the crest, all the Twelve stopped to rest. The road had gradually turned east, and now the green lowlands of the upper Jordan Valley lay behind them. But the men did not look back; they had eyes only for the gleaming city that lay in the shallow valley ahead of them, Caesarea Philippi. Beyond the domes and colonnades of the city rose more mountains, ridge after ridge, climbing finally to the snowy crest of the range, over nine thousand feet above. The level valley before them, however, was green and fertile. Groves of trees and neatly planted fields reached to the very edge of the foothills on all sides of the city. Caesarea Philippi seemed like a diamond set among green jewels. The columns of several pagan temples reminded the travelers that this lovely city was the home of Philip, the son of Herod the Great. He had spent much money to make it beautiful. But the disciples found little pleasure in the sight. "Heathen people building temples to worship idols!" murmured James. As the men descended the hill they walked along the foot of a high cliff, rising to their left. "We will not enter this city," said Jesus. The men knew that a road branched to the south toward Lake Huleh, which was not far from the Lake of Galilee. John happened to look up at the cliff. "Where does the water come from that runs down here?" he asked curiously. Shrubs of all kinds clung to crannies in the damp rock wall. "Perhaps there is an underground stream," replied James, hopefully. They were all thirsty. A moment later he saw a deep pool almost hidden at the very foot of the cliff. "There it is!" he exclaimed. Several of the men started toward the spring. "Wait!" called Peter sharply. He pointed up at the face of the cliff. James looked up and saw that a deep hole had been carved in the rock. It was framed by two stone columns and a stone arch. Under the arch stood a statue of Pan, the pagan god of nature. "Stop!" cried Peter. "That water is unholy!" The other disciples caught sight of the idol and shrank back. "This place is defiled!" exclaimed James in disgust. "We cannot drink this water!" The presence of the idol was an offense to the men and they deeply resented it. "Just wait until we get control of this land again!" burst out the Zealot. "We will break these filthy images to pieces!" "Just to think that the land of God's promise is filled with heathen idols!" Peter was seething. He turned to Jesus. "How much longer must we endure this?" James interrupted. "It will not be long, will it, Master?" "Can we start for Jerusalem soon?" urged the Zealot. "Surely the time has come for God to deliver his people!" Jesus said nothing, but led them over the crest of a ridge till Caesarea Philippi disappeared behind them. The road descended into a flat swamp land which reached as far south as Lake Huleh, which they could now see. The air was heavy with moist heat, and the people they passed looked unhealthy. The disciples scarcely noticed their discomfort, however, so eager was their conversation. Again they tried to make Jesus promise that he would use his power soon to conquer the Romans, but Jesus refused to join in their discussion of how they would rule the land when the Romans were beaten. Not one of them remembered his solemn warnings about the suffering which they faced. Not one mentioned that Jesus had said he would be killed in Jerusalem. Judas listened and said little. Finally he could stand their conversation no longer. "How many of you have ever lived in Jerusalem?" he asked, breaking in. "I stayed there a few weeks once," said James, puzzled by his question. "I used to go every year when I was a boy," said Levi. "Do you know any people who live in Jerusalem?" asked Judas. "John and I know some people we sold fish to," answered Andrew. Judas could hardly keep the scorn out of his voice. "You don't know the first thing about Jerusalem! You have no idea what you are getting into! You don't know anyone there except a few low-class people!" The Zealot interrupted. "You seem to forget that I have a large number of friends in Jerusalem," he said hotly. "The city is full of Zealots! They all know me." "Yes, and the police keep track of every one of them," retorted Judas. "Just as soon as the Romans see us with Zealots they will think that we are trying to start trouble. The best thing for us to do is to keep away from your friends!" "I suppose you think we will win the confidence of the Jews by mixing with Pharisees!" snapped the Zealot. "We will have to be careful, of course," said Judas. "But I know the right people. If we are clever, we will work from the inside." "Well, I think the Master knows what he is doing," cut in Andrew. Judas glanced ahead to where Jesus was walking alone and lowered his voice. "You know I am loyal to him, but he has been in Jerusalem only a few times in his life. He doesn't know any of the important people." "I can put him in touch with hundreds of men who will fight beside us," said the Zealot, frowning at Judas. As Andrew listened to the two men argue, he had to admit to himself that Jesus might need help when they came to Jerusalem. He did not say any more. The twelve men and their Master came to a ford where a sluggish stream flowed across the road toward the Jordan. Single file, the disciples waded through the shallowest place. Andrew was the last to cross, and he found himself with Peter, James, and John. The four fishermen let the others walk ahead. Keeping his voice low, James said to the others: "What is going to happen to the rest of us when we get to Jerusalem? Those two men have been there and they know everyone! We might even be pushed out completely!" The more they discussed it, the more worried they became. James and John wanted to be alone to talk about the schemes of Judas and the Zealot, so when the Twelve stopped for lunch, they went to a near-by farm to buy food. After lunch they again fell in step with Andrew and Peter. "You were absolutely right in what you said this morning," said Andrew emphatically. "Simon Peter and I have decided that we must settle right now before we get to Jerusalem who should have first place among us." "We should talk to the Master about it," said James. "No," answered John. "This is our affair. We must settle it among ourselves. Simon Peter was the first one Jesus asked to give up his fishing and follow him; he should be the leader." "I think so too," agreed Andrew heartily. Peter kept his thoughts to himself. After all, why should Judas be the chief person? He was not even a Galilean! "I am going to talk to the others," declared James, hastening ahead. Judas and the Zealot were walking ahead with Jesus. "Listen!" said James to the disciples. "Do you realize that those two men are going to try to push us out when we get to Jerusalem? We shall not have any place in the new Kingdom at all, unless we protect our rights!" "We think the best way is to decide now who should be first," said John, continuing. The others nodded vigorous agreement. "I think Simon Peter is the one who should be our leader! After all, the Master chose him first." Silence settled over the men. James could not understand what was the matter. Finally Philip said hesitantly, "We thought Levi might know how to deal with the Romans." "Oh, I don't think so!" exclaimed John. "He knows only the Romans in Galilee." "Besides, the best people in Jerusalem might hold it against him that he was a taxgatherer," added James, without thinking how his words sounded. Levi flared up. "Well, I am not so sure they will like a fish peddler any better," he remarked bitingly. "That is beside the point," snapped James. "Simon Peter was the first--and you have to admit it!" At that moment the Zealot and Judas joined the group. "What are you talking about?" demanded the Zealot. When no one replied, Judas laughed and remarked: "It's not hard to guess! Well, we shall see who is greatest when we get to Jerusalem!" It was a long and hot trip from Caesarea Philippi to Capernaum, and the men did not stop arguing until they came to the very door of Peter's house. Their home-coming was spoiled. Everyone was in bad humor. Peter remembered how he had longed to see his wife and children when he had looked down on the Lake of Galilee from Mount Hermon. Now this bitter dispute had completely taken away the pleasure of it. Peter's wife could not understand why all the men, even her husband, ate supper in silence. After they had finished eating, James rose and stood in the open doorway, blocking it. He glared angrily at Judas and the Zealot. He could hardly restrain his bitter resentment against these men, and he was determined to make the Master put them in their place. But it was Jesus who spoke first--before James could begin his angry accusations. "What were you wrangling about on the road?" James felt his anger turn against the Master, who was sitting near the door. He had not been wrangling! It was a matter of simple fairness! "Why were you wrangling on the road today?" Not one of the disciples ventured to answer--the question was put to them a second time. "An evil spirit of envy and dispute has come among us," said Jesus. The men sensed how deeply hurt he was. "If any of you wish to be first in the Kingdom of God, you must learn to serve rather than to rule." While he was speaking, Peter's little daughter peeked around the edge of the doorway. She drew back at the sight of the men, but she was so curious that soon she put her head around the corner again. Jesus saw the disciples smile and he turned. "Come here, little girl," he said gently and held out his hands, smiling. She came to him, and he lifted her to his lap. She leaned trustingly against his shoulder and looked shyly at the men. With his arms around her, Jesus said, "If you are willing to serve even this little child, then you have discovered what it means to be my disciples. But if you do anything to keep even the most despised person from believing in me, you would be better off in the bottom of the sea with a great stone tied around your neck!" When James finally spoke, his tone was controlled. "But, Master, who is to rule in the new Kingdom when we get to Jerusalem?" The disciples leaned forward. _Now we shall get this business settled!_ thought the Zealot. "Among the gentiles, a man is great if he rules over many people," answered Jesus. "But in the Kingdom of Heaven it is the other way around: you are great if you serve, not rule." "But when we get to Jerusalem, Master, who is going to run the new government?" insisted James boldly. "Do you think of nothing but ruling others? You do not understand my Kingdom at all." Then, slowly and emphatically, Jesus said: "James, if you want to be great in my Kingdom, you must be a servant! If you want to be the chief disciple, you must make yourself the slave of all the others! I myself did not come to rule over many nations--I came to serve the people--yes, even to give my life to buy them from slavery!" "Master, we know that the new Kingdom will be different," interrupted Peter. "But we shall rule the gentiles, shan't we?" He did not wait for an answer. "You ought to decide which one of us will have the main authority." The Zealot looked at Peter suspiciously. _So that's how he thinks he will get his way!_ he thought. "Now look," he said to Jesus in his most practical tone. "I know many people in Jerusalem who can help us...." James's anger boiled over. "Master, he is interested only in special privileges!" "That is a lie!" snapped the Zealot, looking fiercely at James. "I want only...." Peter's little girl was crying. Harsh voices and frowning faces had frightened her. She clutched Jesus' robe with both tiny hands and buried her head in his robe. "Here, let me take her," said Peter, starting to rise. But the little girl clung all the closer to Jesus. "Except you become as little children," said Jesus, "you cannot enter the Kingdom of Heaven." He stood up, holding the child in his arms; he did not intend to listen to the angry debate any longer. "I have appointed you to proclaim the news of the Kingdom of God," he declared. "You are the salt which must season the whole earth. Everything depends on you. But what if the salt loses its taste?" The men again felt in his voice the deep grief they had caused him. "It is fit only to be thrown out and trampled on! Let there be peace between you!" Jesus gently put Peter's daughter in her father's arms and left the room. He walked down to the shore of the lake. The trip from Caesarea Philippi had been tiring, and he longed to be alone. Under the tiny white stars he was far from the jealousies and selfishness of his followers. Sometimes they were truly noble and brave. They were loyal too, and yet ... they seemed never to understand! In the quiet night Jesus gave thanks to his Father in heaven for the men who had given up everything to follow him; he prayed that they might soon understand the true meaning of the Kingdom of God. Suddenly there were running footsteps behind him. Jesus stopped abruptly. Had Herod already discovered that he was back in Galilee? Had spies followed him here so that they could arrest him secretly? Two figures emerged from the darkness. "Master!" It was John. James was with him. Relief flooded through Jesus. "We wanted to tell you about something we did." There was a note of pride in John's voice. "Do you remember when James and I went to buy food today? We found a man casting out evil spirits in your name. We put a stop to it right away!" "We will never allow anyone to interfere with us," added James. "He might even persuade some people to follow him. We want nothing like that!" Jesus did not answer, but continued to look out over the dark lake. Why had these men followed him all the way out here to tell him this? Were they trying to convince him they were loyal in spite of the day's dispute? Or were they trying to persuade him to do what they wanted? Jesus turned to them. "What made you do a thing like that?" he demanded. "Don't you know that we are trying to give the power of God to everyone who will believe--we are not trying to keep it to ourselves!" "But he was not one of us," explained James, amazed. "That makes no difference," answered Jesus. "Are we jealous of his power? Do we think always of our own reputation?" "But doesn't it make any difference who has power in our Kingdom?" asked James, dumfounded. "We don't even know the man!" exclaimed John. "Do not forbid him," replied Jesus. "No one who does a mighty work in my name will be able soon after to speak evil of me. For he that is not against us is for us. If a person so much as gives you a cup of water in my name, God remembers him for it!" His voice was now calm, with the note of sorrow which the men had heard twice before on this day. "Do you still not understand what is going to happen in Jerusalem?" he said. "I have told you already that I shall be killed! I am not going to Jerusalem to seek the praise of men, but to give up my life for the sake of all men. I shall be betrayed into the power of the high priests. They will hand me over to the Romans to be killed!" "Master!" cried James desperately. "Do not say such a thing!" Fear chilled him, and the very night seemed to threaten. James had been fighting this thought ever since Jesus had first mentioned his death. "That can never, never happen!" "In spite of all I have said, you still understand little of my work," said Jesus and left the two men. They did not try to follow, but stood listening to the sound of his footsteps dying away. Then they turned back. There could be no mistaking his meaning this time: the Master knew he would die in Jerusalem. [Illustration] 13. THE MESSIAH MUST DIE The next day, Jesus left Capernaum with the Twelve, traveling swiftly on the main highway toward Tiberias, Jericho, and Jerusalem. Early in the afternoon, a wind rose from the south. The sky grew dark; clouds scudded overhead as the disciples plodded along the dusty road. The Lake of Galilee lay to their left. When the sun shone it was refreshing, blue and cool. Now the water was gray, whipped into angry waves by the wind. Only a few months before, the men had nearly drowned in a gale like this. To their right were bleak hills, bare of trees. An anxious shepherd was driving his sheep to shelter. The black, windy sky reminded the disciples of all the fears that filled them: fear of their own future and distrust of one another. "Where can we stay for the night. Master?" asked Andrew, raising his voice above a gust that snatched the words from his lips. Jesus glanced at the sky. "Perhaps we can find an inn at Tiberias." The wind was hot and laden with dust. Its choking heat kept their skin dry even though the men perspired freely. They covered their faces with their robes to avoid breathing dust. The air was thick; they could not see the sun, though it was fully four hours before sunset. They could not even see the crest of the ridge rising above them to the right. "If the wind changes to the southwest, this is sure to turn to rain," remarked James, almost shouting. John nodded. A moment later they heard Andrew call to them. "Look there!" he shouted. "Up the hill." He was pointing to a tumble-down shed a few yards from the road to their right. Greatly relieved, the whole group left the road and in a moment were inside the shelter. "We are lucky to find this," said James, throwing the cover off his face. "It is getting cooler, and the wind is changing." The disciples had hardly caught their breath when they heard a familiar sound. "Sheep!" exclaimed Philip. An instant later a tightly packed flock of frightened sheep crowded into the shed. It overflowed in a moment, but the bleating animals kept on pushing in. Suddenly their shepherd stood in the midst of the men. "Oh!" He was completely surprised at finding people in his shed. "We were looking for shelter from the wind and rain," explained Peter. "Oh ... why yes!" replied the man. He was embarrassed in the presence of all these strangers. "This is a very poor old shed," he said, smiling apologetically. Shyly he turned away from the disciples and began to count his sheep. The men watched. He was very slow and started over again three times. They smiled at each other as though to say, "A simple fellow, isn't he?" The flimsy little shelter rocked under the gusts of the gale, now at its height. The shepherd was too busy counting to notice. Suddenly he jerked up straight. "There is one missing!" Before the disciples could stop him, he plunged into the windy darkness. "Come back!" shouted James. "One is missing!" A heavy gust almost drowned the shepherd's reply. "You'll get hurt!" The man was gone. "How can he ever find his way?" protested James to the others. "There are gullies and high rocks! He will be killed in the dark!" "He has practically all the sheep in," declared John. "He could wait a little while till this lets up." "He would leave his flock here and search all night for a sheep," remarked Jesus. "He ought not to risk his life like that," answered James. "A good shepherd is ready to face death to find just one sheep," said Jesus. Death! The twelve men had been able to think of nothing but fear and death the whole day through. Why did the Master talk about it so much? At that instant the shepherd came back. Under his arm was a lamb, frightened but not harmed. "There," sighed the man, putting it gently down. "Now all are safe." "You are hurt!" exclaimed Peter. He knelt and gently touched the man's ankle. The shepherd flinched, but said, "Oh, it is nothing!" "Let me bandage it," insisted Peter. The man sat down; he was in pain. "How did this happen?" asked Peter, tearing a strip of cloth from the long loose shirt he wore. "I heard the little one crying and ran toward him," answered the man. "I must have stumbled on a sharp rock." Jesus was watching the man. "You are a faithful shepherd," he said. The shepherd looked up quickly and smiled. This man understood! But the disciples were quiet. They knew Jesus was thinking about his own work in Jerusalem. The wind had veered around and now blew from the southwest. Spattering drops turned into a steady, cold, driving rainstorm. "Perhaps it will settle the dust," said Andrew hopefully. He was thinking how dejected the sheep looked that had not found room in the shed when he felt cold water on his back. "This place leaks!" he exclaimed. Soon all the men were moving uncomfortably about, trying to find places to stand where they could keep dry. But it was hopeless. The rain poured through the cracks in the old roof. "We might as well be walking outside as standing here," declared the Zealot in disgust. The suggestion seemed sensible. "Thank you for the shelter," said Jesus to the shepherd. The rain had not let up at all, but the men plunged into the night. "Be careful of that ankle," said Peter, the last to go. The shepherd smiled in farewell. Two hours later the company of miserable disciples arrived in Tiberias. For an hour and a half they had been soaked to the skin. The wind had become quite cold, and they were chilled through. Only after they entered the city of Tiberias did they find an inn where there was room for them. "This city is crowded with people going to Jerusalem for the feast," observed James, as the disciples stripped off their wet clothing. "I wonder how Herod likes to have his home city full of loyal Jews," replied John. "I just hope he does not find out we are here." The disciples were alarmed when Jesus insisted on teaching the next day in the market place, where people gathered to gossip and buy food. "What if the tyrant discovers that we are here?" inquired Andrew fearfully. "He could throw us into prison before we could escape!" "This is an important city for us," replied Jesus. "We must tell the news of the Kingdom to all these pilgrims who are traveling to Jerusalem." Nervously the disciples kept watch for the Roman police while Jesus talked to the people. It was well that they did. "Here come some Pharisees," warned John. The men were stepping around carts piled with food, taking care to avoid the heavily burdened donkeys that crowded the street. The people dropped back to let them pass. The two Pharisees smiled as they came up to Jesus. "They seem friendly!" said John, astonished. "Don't let them deceive you," warned the Zealot. Jesus received the men graciously. The first said: "Rabbi, we have come to warn you. You had better get out of Tiberias as soon as possible. We have private information from Herod's court that he intends to kill you!" The disciples were alarmed. The Zealot was frowning and looking at the Pharisees very suspiciously. "Why do you tell us this?" he asked bluntly. They ignored his question, waiting to see what Jesus would say. Jesus' answer was stern: "Go tell that sly fox that he does not have the power to stop my work!" The people were startled. How did he dare speak like this about the king? "Now I am preaching the good news of the Kingdom of Heaven and helping people," continued Jesus. "When I finish this work I will leave--but I will go to Jerusalem only when the time comes for me to be delivered up to death!" "Unless you leave Tiberias at once, you will certainly die here," said the second Pharisee. "No." There was bitter humor in Jesus' tone. "It would hardly be right for a prophet to be killed anywhere but in Jerusalem. It is always our holy city that kills the messengers whom God sends!" The Pharisees turned and walked away. "Well!" exclaimed John. "For men who want to save us from Herod they certainly act oddly." "They care nothing about our lives," said the Zealot sourly. "They are just trying to scare us out of Galilee. Herod knows he cannot put us into prison--there would be a riot!" The people were indeed very loyal to Jesus. Many who had listened to him in their home villages greeted him with great joy when they found him teaching in Tiberias and refused to go on without him. "We want you to lead us to Jerusalem," declared one man from Capernaum who had often listened to Jesus at the lakeside. "I must stay here several days to teach others who travel through," answered Jesus. "Then we shall wait." More and more people joined this man in asking Jesus to lead them to Jerusalem. The disciples were greatly worried by this. "Herod is sure to hear of this!" exclaimed Andrew, anxiously watching the people crowd around Jesus. "He must know we are here by now," said John. Any moment the men expected the officers of King Herod to come to arrest them. They were greatly relieved when Jesus led a small group of especially loyal followers into the hills west of Tiberias. "At least we are safe out here," observed John as they climbed the brown hill above Herod's capital city. When Jesus stopped, they could see the whole Lake of Galilee spread below them. High above the city rose the towers of Herod's palace. Peter looked northward to where Capernaum lay. Beyond the city he could see Mount Hermon, majestic and cool. A few days before, he had stood on its slopes and gazed at Capernaum, where his wife and children lived. Then he had expected to see them soon. But now he knew he might never see them again. A ridge concealed the group with Jesus from the road which led west from Tiberias to the Mediterranean Sea. "Tonight we shall rest in the hills," said Jesus to them; there were about seventy beside the disciples. "Tomorrow I will send you to prepare my way to Jerusalem." The thought of leaving Herod's territory cheered the disciples, but they had not heard all that their Master had to say. "For a few more days I am going to remain here to summon these people to repent and confess that God is King," continued Jesus. "You are to stay with me. I am sending these others into the cities that I will visit." He turned to the Seventy: "Declare the good news of the rule of God. Tell them that the Kingdom is here. Return to me on the third day. Then we shall set out for Jerusalem!" The people began to talk excitedly with one another. "You must go two by two," continued Jesus, raising his voice. "You have a great work to do, and now is the time to do it! Pray, therefore, that you will find many who will believe your message of the Kingdom of God and help you. Do not let anyone stop you, but press on to tell the gospel in every city where Jews live. You will be in danger; I send you out like sheep among wolves. Just the same, have courage, for you carry good news. Preach this message: 'The rule of God is here; give yourselves to him'!" After the Seventy had gone, great crowds continued to throng Jesus as he preached in the market place of Tiberias. The anxiety that the disciples first felt when Jesus decided to await the return of the Seventy gradually gave way to optimism when they saw the great popularity of Jesus. "The king knows he cannot arrest us," said the Zealot. "Look at this crowd!" "It will not be long before we are in Jerusalem!" said John. Jerusalem! The disciples began to talk eagerly about the new kingdom. "Nothing must stop us!" declared James and John. When the Seventy returned, they were enthusiastic. "Everyone listened to us!" declared the first two men to return. "People brought their sick to us. They believed our teaching! Even the demons obeyed us!" "Here is a man who wants to become a follower," said his companion. A third person stepped up to Jesus and said very sincerely, "I will go with you anywhere." Jesus looked at him keenly and said: "My way is not easy. The foxes in the woods have holes to sleep in. Even the wild birds have nests--but I have no home and no place to give you." "I will follow you anywhere," said the man again. Through the day others returned. Every hour the disciples heard good reports of the success of the Seventy. At sunset all the followers whom Jesus had sent out gathered in the hills. The bright rays of the sinking sun lighted Jesus' face as he raised his hand to quiet the excited men. "Satan is utterly defeated!" he declared. "The power of God is yours! Nothing can stand in the way of God's rule!" The people could not restrain their excitement. They burst into a babble of conversation. One man cried out, "Master, we even have power over demons!" Jesus answered quickly. "You should rejoice because you know what it is to be a part of God's Kingdom--not because you can do miracles!" He raised his arms to pray. Like the silent shadow that had stolen over them as the sun sank from sight, a reverent hush settled over the crowd. "Father in heaven, I thank thee that thou hast concealed thyself from men who think they are wise. I praise thee that thou hast revealed all these things to the humble and the simple. I praise thee that it is thy purpose to rule over all who are willing to give their hearts to thee." While the group were returning to their lodging in Tiberias, James and John made a discovery that shocked and angered them. One of the Seventy had been turned roughly away from a town on the border of Samaria. Indignantly the two fishermen came with the man to Jesus. "This man was driven out of a village in Samaria," they said angrily. "Let us call down fire from the sky and burn up these people!" "No!" commanded Jesus. "We have not come to destroy men's lives but to save them." "Why should these worthless Samaritans be allowed to stand in the way of the Kingdom of God?" demanded James hotly. "We should destroy them. They are enemies of God!" "Our own towns in Galilee have rejected us as harshly as any town in Samaria," answered Jesus. He pointed northward toward the villages on the Lake of Galilee. His voice sent a chill through the fishermen: "O Bethsaida, you are doomed--you are doomed! If my miracles had been done in Tyre or Sidon, they would have repented long ago. But you have turned your back on me! And you, Capernaum! Will you become great? No! You shall be utterly destroyed for your sin!" These towns--the ones James and John knew and loved the best--Jesus condemned because they had not accepted his gospel! Did he believe Galilee had rejected him? Of what mighty destruction was he speaking? By morning the fishermen had forgotten Jesus' somber warning. The little waves on the lake sparkled in the brightness of the sun. As Jesus' followers walked briskly with him along the road toward Jerusalem, they could talk of nothing but their arrival in the holy city. "We shall be welcomed in Jerusalem," said Peter. "See how well liked the Master is by all the pilgrims!" "That is true," agreed a man from Capernaum. "But just the same, Pilate is a dangerous man. Did you hear what he did at the last festival?" "No," answered James. "What was that?" "Some Zealots from Galilee started a riot in the Temple. I did not see what happened myself, but they say that the Roman soldiers put a stop to the trouble and within a few hours Pilate crucified twelve of the Zealots." He looked at the others. "There were many Galileans in Jerusalem--but that did not stop Pilate!" "But we are not going to start a riot," James hastened to say. "As Judas says, we will work from the inside until the right time." Peter glanced curiously at the other men. No doubt of the future seemed to cross their minds. Peter restrained a desire to interrupt. Finally James turned to him and asked, "Do you think Jesus would let himself be trapped by the officials?" Very forcefully Peter answered: "I do not think he will be trapped. I do not know what will happen. But do not forget what he said; again and again he has told us that he will be killed in Jerusalem!" "Oh, I am sure he doesn't mean it the way it sounds," said James hastily. "He was discouraged when he said that." "Just the same, he definitely said his work in Jerusalem would cost his life!" "There will be no new kingdom for any of us if that happens!" replied James. [Illustration] 14. A DAY OF VICTORY Within two hours Jesus and his friends had reached the southern end of the Lake of Galilee. They knew that the heavy rain had made the lake rise almost to the point of flooding the water front at Tiberias. But they never expected the sight that lay before them. Usually the Jordan wound sluggishly between low banks. Now a huge overflow was pouring out of the lake, filling the wide river bed with muddy water. The disciples looked with dismay at the uprooted bushes and broken limbs swirling past them. They could hardly believe that this destructive flood had been the narrow Jordan they had forded so many times before. "Do you think that we can find a place to wade through?" James and John were walking down the bank. James shook his head. "It is not deep, but it is terribly swift. Look how wide it is!" A quarter mile of water lay between them and the other side. "I guess we shall have to travel down the road on this side." They turned back to the others. "I am not going through Samaria!" exclaimed James. "Perhaps we can find a shallow place to cross before we get that far," replied John. None of the other people were willing to risk their lives by attempting to ford the rushing river. "Come!" called Jesus to the ones who stood wondering what to do. He started down the road toward Samaria; some of the people looked doubtful, but no one objected. The road followed the high hills that shut in the Jordan Valley on the west, but it was well above the flood level of the river. Fully four miles to the east stretched the broad lowlands of the Jordan, small hills, an occasional steep bluff, and at the center, the flooded river. As the group traveled south, the flat valley narrowed and the hills came closer on both east and west. Some of the farms near the river were under water. "We may be able to cross near here," observed Andrew. They had walked about five miles. "Do you remember if there is a bridge on the road across to Gadara?" James pointed to a white strip below them. "The road is just ahead." Jesus walked past the crossroad without turning. "Surely he is not going through Samaria!" exclaimed James. "Has he forgotten how these people treated our messengers?" asked John. "Perhaps he does not want all the travelers on the other road to know he is going to the Passover," guessed one man. "He is a complete stranger to the people in this part of Samaria. We could go all the way through the province before anyone would discover we are on our way to Jerusalem." "Perhaps we shall find lodging more easily along this road," observed another. "I doubt if anyone will even sell us food," said James pessimistically. "Samaritans are mean." "We shall soon find out," remarked Andrew. "This road leads right to Scythopolis." This town was just over the border from Galilee. It was the largest of the ten cities which together were called "Decapolis"; it was part of ancient Samaria, and Jews usually avoided it. North of the city the Jordan Valley grew suddenly wide; here the range of high hills along which they were walking turned almost due west. "Perhaps there will be some here who know the Master is a great prophet," said one of the men hopefully as the city came into view. "Probably never even heard of him," replied another. At that moment a small group of men came out of a ramshackly house standing just outside the city gate. Some hobbled; one crawled on his knees. "Lepers!" exclaimed John. "Don't get near them!" The ten sick men came straight toward Jesus. Everyone sighed with relief when they stopped several paces from the band of Galileans. "Unclean! We are unclean!" they called. The law compelled them to warn everyone of their disease with this cry. "Master, have mercy upon us." They were indeed a pitiable sight. With inward pain, Jesus looked at their wasted bodies, mere skin and bone. Repulsive scars from the disease marked their faces. "These men seem to know the Master," murmured Andrew in surprise. "They might be Galileans," replied James. "Perhaps they live here because they were driven out of their homes." The people were afraid that the lepers might come near them, but the twelve disciples knew that Jesus intended to help them. "Make ready and go immediately to Jerusalem," commanded Jesus. "Go to the priest there and get a certificate showing that you are clean according to the Law of Moses." The ten men turned without a word and made for the leper house. In a moment they were out again, taking the road around the outside of the city. On the way to Jerusalem they would beg food. "Let us go into the city," said Jesus. He had hardly come into the shadow of the high wall when one of the lepers came running back. He threw himself down in front of Jesus and cried out: "Blessed art thou. Master! God is good! I am clean!" It was true. The men could see no sign of the terrible disease. "Where are the other nine?" asked Jesus. "Were they not healed also?" "This man is not from Galilee!" exclaimed Andrew under his breath. "Is this Samaritan the only one to come back and thank me?" Jesus asked the people. He turned to the man. "Get up and go back to your own home. Your faith has made you well." The gate into Scythopolis was like a dark tunnel because the wall was so thick. Roman guards stationed on the inside examined the travelers as they passed through. If they were surprised to find a large group of Galileans in a town on the border of Samaria, they said nothing. "This town seems different from the one that refused us," admitted James. Every one of the people who accompanied Jesus found a place to stay. They discovered that many of the townsmen knew about Jesus. Some even gathered curiously in the courtyard of the inn where Jesus rested. By the time they left Scythopolis the next morning everyone knew they were there. "The Master could make many disciples here," observed Andrew enthusiastically. All the followers of Jesus were in high spirits. Even though Jesus kept a fast pace, they did not fall behind. At noon they passed through a large town, but Jesus paused only long enough for them to draw water to drink. Farther south they entered the narrowest part of the Jordan Valley. The road followed the brink of low limestone cliffs which overhung the Jordan. The swift water was cutting into the banks; whirlpools and rapids swirled below them. Occasionally they had to walk around places where the river had undermined a section of the bank and caused a cave-in. Even though the river constantly washed away portions of their farms, the people raised heavy crops. The farmers lived in crowded villages along the road. Between the wheat from the rich soil and the sheep that grazed on the hills above, the people were quite prosperous. For two days Jesus pressed forward without a rest. As the group approached the borders of Judea, the valley gradually widened until the mountains across the river were blue in the haze that hung heavy in the air. The damp heat had nearly exhausted the travelers, but some inward force seemed to drive Jesus faster every hour. In the afternoon of the second day they crossed the first of the streams that flowed from the highlands behind Jericho. Ahead of the disciples, clear to the foot of the distant hills, lay green fields of wheat, fig orchards, and vineyards. Beside the road were rows of stately palms. "There is Jericho!" Everyone looked ahead. The city stood on a low, flat hill. Its walls rose high above the trees. The Galileans could see very clearly the beautiful theater built thirty years before by Herod the Great, father of Herod Antipas, ruler of Galilee. Beside it stood the massive fortress which he had built to defend Jericho. Dominating both city and plain stood the square stone tower of Cyprus; from this high lookout Herod's soldiers could easily see any enemy who might dare attack Jericho. Jewish pilgrims crowded the road. "They must have waded the Jordan at the ford where we first heard John the Baptizer," commented Andrew to John. "The way we came is shorter," answered John, thinking of the many loads of salted fish he and Andrew had brought to Jerusalem on the road east of the river. The disciples saw the Galilean pilgrims on the road staring at Jesus and murmuring to one another. At length one man came up to John. "Wasn't your Rabbi in Tiberias a few days ago?" he asked. John nodded. The man and his friends joined the group with Jesus. Others followed. "This is not good," observed Andrew. "It certainly would be better not to cause any disturbance in Jericho," agreed Peter. "We shall be in serious trouble if Pilate's local commander sends him word that we caused a riot here," added Judas. "I hope these people keep their heads." Outside the gate of Jericho sat the usual line of beggars, ragged, filthy, and diseased. Some were silent, but others called out, asking alms. Hardly anyone paid any attention. Suddenly there was a loud cry from the side of the road. "Jesus! Jesus! Thou Son of David! Messiah! Have mercy on me!" "Shut up!" snapped someone. Others looked harshly at the beggar who had shouted, but he could not see their hard faces. He was blind. "Jesus! Messiah! Have pity on me!" His voice was louder than before. "In the name of heaven, make that wretch be quiet!" burst out Judas. "We shall have the whole Roman army on us if anyone hears him talking as though Jesus were going to lead a revolution!" Jesus stopped. "Who is calling to me?" "Oh, just some beggar," answered James. "Bring him to me." The man who had scolded the beggar said to him: "Don't worry. The Master himself is calling you." The blind man leaped to his feet, threw off his tattered coat, and pushed his way through the crowd toward Jesus. "What do you want me to do for you?" asked Jesus. The beggar dropped to his knees. "O Master, that I might be able to see again!" A hush had fallen over the crowd. Jesus said: "Open your eyes. Your faith has made you well again." The man looked around him. He saw the people, the city wall above him, the palm trees at the side of the road. Jesus turned and led the crowd through the gate into Jericho. People clustered around the beggar as he walked after Jesus. He talked loudly and happily, hardly able to express his joy. Judas came up to Jesus. "Can't we send that man away? Think what will happen if the Romans hear him babbling like this!" "Let him tell what has happened to him," answered Jesus. "We have come to Judea to proclaim the gospel. That man has found the Kingdom of Heaven. Let him declare it to everyone!" "We are losing our chance to win over the high priests in Jerusalem!" burst out Judas. "Before tomorrow night word will reach them that the people are trying to make Jesus king! They will all be against us!" "Well, there is nothing to do about it now," said the Zealot. The man in front of Judas stopped in his tracks and Judas ran into him. "What is the matter now?" he demanded impatiently. The Zealot pointed to a tree over their heads. "Look!" A man was standing on a heavy lower limb of one of the sycamore trees that grew at the side of the street. The whole crowd gaped. Jesus spoke with someone in the crowd for a moment and then called to the man in the tree: "Zacchaeus, come down here! I want to visit your home." Judas turned to a man beside him. "Who is that fellow?" "He is the chief tax collector in Jericho. He is very rich." "A tax collector!" exploded Judas. He turned to the Zealot. "Did you hear that? He wants to stay with a tax collector! Why does he insist on mixing with such people? Everyone will say he is a lover of traitors and sinners!" If Judas had not known it was useless, he would have protested to Jesus then and there. Zacchaeus climbed out of the tree and stood in front of Jesus. "May I come to your home?" asked Jesus again. "Oh, yes, Master!" exclaimed Zacchaeus, and he turned to lead the way. The rumor spread fast. The Galilean Prophet was staying with Zacchaeus! The deliverer of Israel--staying with a tax collector? Impossible! Perhaps he was not Messiah at all! The publican knew that people considered him a traitor. He knew how much it meant that Jesus had chosen him for a friend. The next morning, just before Jesus left his home, Zacchaeus declared in the presence of all the disciples: "I am not the man I was yesterday. I intend to be a different person. If I have cheated anyone in collecting taxes, I will give half of all that I possess to the poor; and I will give every man whom I cheated four times what I took from him." Jesus smiled. "Zacchaeus, this day God has forgiven your sin and accepted you in his Kingdom. Because you believe, you are a true son of Abraham." After they had left, Judas could contain himself no longer. "Master, think of our task in Jerusalem!" he exclaimed. "What will the best people think of us? They will never believe we come to do God's will if we act as though we approved of lawbreakers!" "Judas," answered Jesus, "the Son of Man has come to seek and to save those who are lost. Zacchaeus was waiting for someone to summon him to repent and submit himself to God. My Father has sent me into the world to tell just such people--outcasts, beggars, sinners, even gentiles--that he is ready to receive anyone who will repent." Many people were waiting at the city gate for Jesus to lead them to Jerusalem. Going before them, he walked from the fertile lowlands around Jericho into the bleak hills of Judea. Above the city the travelers paused for a last look. Beyond the green plain lay the river, hidden in a tangle of trees, bushes, and high grass. Wise travelers crossed the river only at the regular fords because this jungle concealed wolves, jackals, bears, and lions even this far south. The Dead Sea lay perfectly still. Mud flats marked the place where the Jordan emptied into it. Andrew was glad that they traveled in a large group, for this steep road was a favorite of robbers. In Galilee they often heard reports of travelers being ambushed, beaten, and robbed in these lonely mountains. In small knots the disciples argued about the outcome of the things that had happened in Jericho. By the time they had covered the fifteen rough miles to the outskirts of Jerusalem, the men were more deeply excited than they themselves realized. All their hope and faith in the Master was to be put to the test! Drawing near the holy city, the road crossed the southern shoulder of the Hill of Olives and here the men first caught sight of the capital city of Palestine. There were many beautiful buildings; Pilate had just built a graceful new aqueduct through the mountains to Jerusalem. The little town of Bethphage lay outside the city wall. But the disciples had eyes only for Mount Zion and the Temple. They never saw Jerusalem without a thrill. The Temple was the symbol of their religious faith, the place where God had established his glory. Mount Zion held the eye of every traveler who ascended to the gates of the holy city. Jesus called two of the disciples. "We will wait here at the Hill of Olives," he said. "You go into Bethphage. Just after you enter the town you will see a colt which has never been ridden tied to a post beside the door of a house. Bring it to me. If anyone asks you what right you have to do it, tell him, 'The Lord needs it, and he will send it back immediately.'" On the way to Bethphage one of the men said, "Did you know the Master had planned to ride into Jerusalem on a donkey?" "No," answered his companion. Both men were surprised to find that Jesus had prepared for his visit. When they got back to the Hill of Olives, several men took off their cloaks and placed them on the back of the colt. Jesus seated himself on the animal, and the entire group moved toward the gate of Jerusalem. Pilgrims who crowded the roads stopped to watch, then recognized Jesus and joined the crowd. Excitement became intense. When the gate of the holy city came into view, several men ran ahead to clear the way. Snatches of song and psalms of praise could be heard on every side. The tremendous enthusiasm of the people did not break out, however, until the procession entered the city. For a moment all was quiet as they walked under the cool shadowed gate. Then the colt carried Jesus out of the gate into the city. It seemed to the amazed disciples that a thousand people filled the cobblestone street. "Hosanna! Save us now!" cried the crowd. "Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord God. Blessed is the messenger whom God has sent to deliver his people! Hosanna! Hosanna!" "Pilate will hear about this within an hour!" shouted Judas in the ear of the Zealot. "Nonsense! There is nothing to fear. Look at this crowd! Pilate would never dare arrest us!" Judas rushed up to Jesus and pulled at his robe. "Master, make them stop! Make them stop!" Jesus' answer cut through the tumult. "If these people did not proclaim the Kingdom, the very stones in the street would have to cry out!" Men were taking off their cloaks and throwing them in the street in front of Jesus. Palm branches which people had brought from Jericho were scattered before Jesus as though he were a king advancing to his throne on a royal carpet. "Blessed is the kingdom of our great King David!" shouted the people. "Blessed is his Son who comes to deliver us!" As Jesus rode by, everyone fell into step behind him, singing and shouting praises. Jesus led the crowd up the hill of Zion straight to the Temple. He got off the colt and entered. Hundreds pushed in after him, still shouting hosannas. What Jesus saw shocked him. It was early evening, and most of the people who came to sacrifice had left. But the courtyard of the house of God was neither empty nor quiet. A large number of young bulls and sheep were tethered there and made a great disturbance. Jesus had seen these animals here when he had visited Jerusalem before; indignation rose up inside him. Priests were carrying water to the bullocks. Others were putting away small tables where they counted money as they sold the animals. The whole scene reminded Jesus more of a barnyard or a market place than the Temple of God. With rising anger, Jesus walked slowly around the entire courtyard. He examined everything in it very closely. The people saw his frown, and their enthusiasm melted away. The shouting stopped. "What is he going to do?" murmured Andrew. Jesus turned his back on the whole disgusting scene and walked out of the Temple. "Why has he gone?" everyone asked. Only the disciples followed Jesus. The people scattered to the places where they lodged, wondering what would happen on the morrow. "Why was he angry?" asked Andrew. "I don't know," answered Peter. "There are many things I should like to know," observed Judas. There was deep feeling in Peter's voice when he spoke again. "There is one thing certain: very soon we shall know when he intends to bring in the new Kingdom. The people are for us. Perhaps tomorrow will tell!" [Illustration] 15. DISPUTE IN THE TEMPLE Dusk on the Hill of Olives was quiet and restful after the excitement of the day. The gentle wind in the olive trees, which grew thickly in the Garden of Gethsemane, was so different from the noise and smell of the Temple courtyard! While the disciples slept, Jesus went deeper into the Garden, where he could pray alone. When he knelt on the rocky ground, the moon, almost full, was just rising in the east. But when Jesus finally returned to the Twelve and wrapped his coat around him to sleep, the moon was high above, cold and white. The sound of travelers on the road through the olive orchard awakened Peter the next morning. The morning sunlight threw long shadows on the ground. Between the trees Peter could see pilgrims passing along the road. Jerusalem would be crowded this Passover season! For a moment Peter could not remember why he felt so excited when he awoke. Then the events of the day before flooded into his memory. He stood up stiffly. He had been cold all night; the hard ground was a poor bed for men who would soon be ruling the gentiles! Jesus stood up and stretched. "Come, my followers!" he called. "There is work to do in the Temple!" The men arose and walked down the slope to a small spring that trickled from under a rock. When they had washed, Jesus led them to the road that crossed the Kidron Valley toward the Golden Gate of the Temple. All the men were hungry. Along the road they found no food for sale. Everyone who lived outside the city walls bought food in the market of Jerusalem. Just above the Kidron, a leafy tree stood beside the road. "It is too early for figs," remarked Andrew. Jesus did not hear: he was gazing at the tree. He turned to the twelve men. "This tree is a good picture of the religion of the priests. It has many leaves and looks strong. But there is not one bit of fruit on it." He pointed to the Temple above them. The sun shone brilliantly on Mount Zion. It was a sight to inspire every pilgrim who climbed the Jericho road. "The Temple is beautiful. There are many priests. Our Law is righteous. Moses and the Prophets were great teachers. But our religion is all fine appearance! It is producing nothing! Our priests and rulers obey the Romans. The Temple is filled with people who spend their time selling bullocks and exchanging money!" The disciples realized that Jesus had been deeply offended by the things he had seen in the Temple the evening before. Jesus continued in a quieter tone: "There was once a man who had a fig tree like this one planted in his vineyard. He came to see if it was producing fruit, but there was none to be found. There were no figs the next year either. When he found none the third year, he said to his gardener: 'That tree has not given us any fruit in three years. Cut it down. It is just taking up valuable ground.' "But the gardener said: 'Let me give it one more chance. Let me dig round it and put manure on it. If it does not bear fruit next year, we will cut it down.'" With great force Jesus said: "Our nation has had more than enough time to show results! God will judge us for failing him! Let this fig tree teach you that God will condemn all religion that does not produce real fruit, no matter how fine it may look!" Jesus' voice struck dread into the disciples. He sounded like Jeremiah pronouncing doom on the city of Jerusalem. And he had said there was work for him at the Temple! What did he intend to do? As the disciples followed Jesus through the Valley of Kidron, they were uneasy. Jesus strode through the Golden Gate into the Temple without looking to the right or to the left. He walked through Solomon's Porch into the courtyard. Gentiles were allowed to come this far, but only Jews could go farther. Several gates led through a second wall into another court. Over each gate hung a great sign: NO FOREIGNER IS ALLOWED INSIDE THE WALL SURROUNDING THE SANCTUARY. WHOEVER IS CAUGHT WILL BE PUT TO DEATH! HE ALONE WILL BE RESPONSIBLE! One whole side of the outer yard was filled with stamping bulls and sheep. The bawling of the cattle, the stirring of the nervous sheep, and the fluttering of pigeons in cages piled high on the ground made great confusion. Even this early in the morning dust filled the air over the courtyard. High above the Temple area rose four stone towers. Andrew shaded his eyes and looked up. Steel armor glinted in the sunlight. From this lookout, called the Tower of Antonia, Pilate's Roman soldiers kept keen watch over everything that happened in the Temple. But it was not the tethered animals or the bustling crowds that caught Jesus' attention. Not even the Roman fort interested him after the first glance. What grated most disagreeably upon him was the bickering of the priests. Even above the noise the disciples could hear the priests arguing with pilgrims who needed an animal to sacrifice. Jesus and the Twelve stopped to watch one priest. As they listened, Peter saw his Master's anger rising. A Galilean had brought a young bull all the way from his home. To the disciples he looked like a farmer who did not have much to live on. Such men usually sacrificed a sheep or a pigeon. But this man must have wanted to give a better sacrifice. He was watching the priest examine the legs of his bullock. Finally the priest straightened up. "No! This beast will not do." "But I brought this bull all the way from Galilee," protested the farmer. "I can't help that," answered the priest. "He is not good enough." "Not good enough!" cried the man in dismay. "That is the best bull I ever raised!" "All right, then; look!" The priest pointed to a small cut on the rear leg of the bullock. "But that happened on the trip," explained the farmer. "There is nothing really wrong with him." "Do you want to offer a sacrifice to God which is not perfect?" The man did not answer. "I'll tell you what I will do," the disciples heard the priest say. "I will trade you a perfect sheep for this bull." The farmer's face reddened angrily. For an instant he seemed about to strike the priest; then he jerked at the tether and led his bullock out of the Temple court without replying. Jesus turned to the disciples, his voice indignant. "That man brought the best he had--and was turned away!" Jesus walked toward the Beautiful Gate, between the outer courtyard and the inner court where the Temple building stood. At the foot of the steps which led through the gate he stopped. On each side of the gate were money-changers. Everyone who wished to give money had to go to the tables where these men sat and buy Jewish coins with their Roman and Greek money. Because there was a profit on this exchange, the Temple treasury had grown rich. Pilate had forced the high priest to use some of this money to pay for the great aqueduct that brought water to Jerusalem. The men were weighing coins on their scales. Clinking money and noisy arguing made the scene all the more like a public market. Jesus stood before the row of tables, looking at the money-changers. Suddenly he spoke in a voice that was firm and clear. The arguing stopped; men forgot the money and looked up. Silence settled over that part of the Temple courtyard; Jesus had taken command. "It is written in the Scriptures, 'My house shall be called a house of prayer for all the nations!' But you have made it a den of robbers!" Jesus stepped swiftly toward the first table and with a sweep of his arm threw the table over into the dust. The scales crashed to the ground; money rolled everywhere. In an instant Jesus was striding down the whole row. The money-changers were terrified. Jesus did not leave a single table standing. Scales and coins, records on parchment, and chairs lay in confusion on the ground. The onlookers could hardly believe what they saw; who could this be, who dared clear this courtyard as though it were his own? Judas moved quickly toward Jesus. "Stop! Stop!" he cried out. But Jesus paid no attention. He turned to those who were selling animals and pigeons and cried out: "Take these things away! You shall not make my Father's house a house of trade!" He picked up a piece of rope and, knotting a whip of cords, began to drive the bullocks out of the Temple. People stood as though paralyzed. Heavy swirls of dust hung in the morning air. The empty cages from which the pigeons had escaped lay scattered. Judas stood stock-still behind Jesus, not daring to protest again. The Roman guards peered alertly from the Tower of Antonia, but now all had become quiet below them. "Come! Let us leave this place!" Jesus walked across the broad royal porch and down toward the market place of Jerusalem. The disciples finally started after him. "All Jerusalem saw him do it!" exclaimed Andrew. Judas could hold back no longer. "Why did he have to do a thing like this!" he cried passionately. "This will turn everyone against us!" The other eleven men knew that the Romans had seen it all; within a few minutes it would be reported to Pilate. "The priests will be against us!" burst out Judas again. "What can we do when every important person will say that we are wrong?" Not even the Zealot could find an answer. The disciples heard rushing footsteps behind them. Fear clutched them as they caught sight of a crowd pouring down the street from the Temple. They gathered around Jesus. "Hosanna! The Son of David has come to rule his eternal kingdom! Save us now!" Through the narrow streets on every side, people came running. "These people are not against us!" cried the Zealot. Peter caught sight of the man whose bullock had been rejected by the priest. Of course, this man would be on Jesus' side! Jesus waved his hand, and the crowd gradually became quiet. "The Kingdom of God is present among you!" he said to them. "God rules every man who trusts him. Nothing is impossible for a man who has faith!" For a moment an outburst of hosannas drowned his voice. "God does not desire more offerings and sacrifices! He wants you to trust him as your Father! He wants you to love his will above everything else and to obey him faithfully. Any man who hears and believes my word shall have eternal life in God's Kingdom!" Already the crippled, blind, and diseased were pressing forward to the place where Jesus stood. Looking at them with pity, Jesus repeated words now familiar to the disciples: "The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, for he has consecrated me to preach the gospel to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim release for captives and recovery of sight for the blind. He has sent me to set free the oppressed and to proclaim this is the year of the Lord's blessing!" It seemed a long time since Peter had heard Jesus read from Isaiah in the synagogue at Nazareth. "You are the One the Prophets tell about!" cried a beggar in the crowd. "You are the Son of David!" All day Jesus remained in Jerusalem, teaching and healing. Roman soldiers came to investigate, but they did not disturb him. "Look at all these people," the Zealot said enthusiastically. "He must be getting ready to declare himself king! He did just the right thing this morning!" Judas turned on him. "The people cannot make anyone king," he said bluntly. "The Romans and the priests are all that count!" The other disciples wavered between hope and discouragement. Later in the day Pharisees and priests joined the crowd. "See?" said Judas. "Already they are spying on us." The hearts of the Twelve sank. Judas must be right. They urged Jesus to leave Jerusalem immediately, but not until evening did Jesus lead them back to the Hill of Olives. "At least he is not going to risk being arrested by staying in the city at night," sighed Peter in relief. "The Roman soldiers will never find us here unless someone tells them where we are." None of the disciples slept soundly that night. Again Jesus spent most of the night in prayer. The men rose early, glad to be rid of the discomfort of the cold ground, but dreading to enter Jerusalem again. Jesus did not seek the crowds in the market place; he walked straight to the Temple. The money-changers had not come back; no animals stamped their hoofs in the courtyard. James glanced up at the Tower of Antonia. Did the guard know that Jesus was the man who had caused the riot yesterday? Jesus paid no attention to guards or priests. He sat down near the gate where the Jews entered the inner court to put gifts into the Temple offering box. Within an hour the rumor spread through Jerusalem that he was in the Temple. People began to come in great numbers. Scribes, Pharisees, and Roman soldiers were there too. After Jesus had been teaching awhile one of the scribes interrupted. He lived on the Temple grounds. "What I want to know," he demanded, "is what right you have to call the Temple of God your Father's house? How do you dare act as you do?" "I will ask you a question," replied Jesus. "If you answer it, I will tell you what right I have to act as I do. Where did John the Baptizer get his right to preach? From God in heaven, or was he given it by some man, perhaps a priest?" _From God, of course_, thought all the people instantly. The scribe knew what the people believed. He reflected, _If I say, "From heaven," then he will ask us why we did not believe John's word. But if I say, "From men"--no, that will never do! These people all think John came from God!_ After a long pause, the scribe said, "I do not know." "All right, then," said Jesus. "That is why you cannot understand where I get the right to act as I do! Listen to a story I shall tell you. A man planted a vineyard. He put a fence around it, dug a wine press, and built a guard tower to protect it. Then he leased his vineyard to some farmers and went away. At harvest-time he sent a servant to collect the rent, but the farmers beat the man and sent him away with nothing. The owner sent another servant, but the farmers clubbed him on the head and insulted him. The farmers abused every man the owner sent; they even killed some of them. Finally the owner thought, 'I am sure they will respect my son.' So he sent his only son to collect the rent. "When the wicked farmers saw the young man coming, they said to each other: 'This young fellow will inherit the vineyard. If we kill him, we will possess it!' So they beat the young man to death and threw his body over the fence of the vineyard. "What will the owner of the vineyard do?" demanded Jesus. "He will utterly destroy these evil farmers and will give the vineyard to other people whom the farmers hated!" The scribe backed away and went into the inner court. "Look at him!" whispered Judas to Peter. "Do you know what he is going to do? He is going to report to the others!" Judas began to move away. "Where are you going?" asked Peter. "I don't want to be seen around here." Peter followed him to the outer gate of the Temple. He was disturbed by what had happened the day before, but he put on a bold manner with Judas. "I don't think there is any reason to be afraid," remarked Peter. Judas looked at Peter as though he had no sense at all. "Anyone can see that we haven't a chance. The priests are plotting against us right this minute. Look at that guard," he pointed at the tower; "he sees everything we do!" Peter did not reply. "Anyhow, did you hear that story Jesus told? You heard him say that they killed the son too, didn't you?" Peter jerked up his head. "Do you mean...." Judas nodded. "All the way from Galilee he has told us that he would be killed here." Peter looked over at Jesus. "He acts very deliberately. He seems to know what he is doing." Judas laughed bitterly. "He knows what he is doing, all right!" He caught sight of some Pharisees coming down the steps of the Beautiful Gate. "There are some more!" He turned his face away from them. Peter started toward Jesus, but Judas hung back. "Don't you want to hear what they say?" asked Peter. "Come on." "I'm keeping out of sight from now on. And you had better look out for yourself too!" Peter did not wait to argue. "Rabbi," the Pharisee was saying, "we know you are a sincere and fearless man. You have a reputation for never playing politics. You always tell men to do what God wants." The people were surprised. This Pharisee did not speak in a superior tone like the others. "Tell me, Rabbi," asked the Pharisee, "is it right to pay taxes to the Romans or not?" Peter knew instantly that it was a trap. If Jesus answered that the Jews should pay the Roman tax, he would be called a traitor to his people. If he said the tax was wrong, he would be reported to Pilate and arrested. A clever trick! "Why do you try to trap me?" demanded Jesus. "Bring me a Roman coin." He held it up and asked the Pharisee, "Whose picture is stamped on this?" "Caesar's," he answered. "All right, then," said Jesus. "Give to the Romans what belongs to them--but be sure that you give to God what belongs to him!" Jesus had escaped the trap, but Peter was puzzled. What could he mean by saying, "Give to the Romans what belongs to them"? They were not going to live under the Romans much longer! The people were angry with this attempt to trick Jesus. They murmured threats when another scribe spoke up, "Rabbi, what is the most important command in the Law?" Jesus replied without hesitating. "The Lord your God is one God and you must love him with your whole heart, your whole soul; your whole mind, and your whole strength. And the second is this: You must love your neighbor as yourself. No commands are greater than these." "I think you are right, Rabbi," answered the scribe thoughtfully. "It is much more important to love God and one's neighbor sincerely than to make many sacrifices in the Temple." The disciples were suspicious; what new trick was this? But Jesus answered the scribe warmly. "You are not far from the Kingdom of God!" Andrew came through the crowd toward Peter. "Have you seen Judas?" "We were talking just a minute ago." Both the men searched among the people. "He must have gone!" The fishermen were puzzled. "He did not want the officials to see him with us," remarked Peter. Later in the afternoon the people began to leave the Temple court. The disciples became anxious. With hardly anyone around, the Romans could easily arrest Jesus! In a few more minutes there would be almost no one in the Temple. But still Jesus talked to a few persons who needed him. When they left the men sighed with relief. "Where is Judas?" asked Jesus. Not one of the disciples knew. * * * * * Judas had not left the Temple, as Peter supposed. At that very moment he was only a few yards away from them. After talking to Peter, he had walked through the inner court to the council chamber of the high priest. His knock interrupted a secret meeting. A priest opened the door. "What do you want here?" "I want to talk with the high priest." Inside he saw the rulers of the Temple. "Let him in," ordered Caiaphas, the high priest. "You are with the Galilean!" he said accusingly the instant he saw Judas. "I was, but I am no longer," replied Judas. "Now I know that he is really very dangerous!" The men looked at him suspiciously. Judas plunged ahead, trying to please the hard-faced men. "This Jesus does not really love the Law. He disobeys the great Rabbis! He cannot help us against the Romans. The Kingdom he talks about is a dream! All he does is arouse the people, and I am afraid he will bring Pilate's vengeance upon us all!" The priests were surprised. The high priest demanded, "Well, what do you want?" "I will help you take him for thirty silver coins." The dreadful offer was made. He was pale, and beads of sweat stood out on his forehead. "Will you help us arrest him secretly--so that the people will not find out?" Every eye was on Judas. "I will." "Very well, then. It is a bargain." [Illustration] 16. THE END OF HOPE Late that night Judas crept into the olive orchard. Silently he lay down among the disciples; but he did not close his eyes. He listened alertly to catch any sound that would tell him that the others were awake. There was only uneasy breathing and restless turning. He lifted his head and looked carefully among the sleepers. Where was Jesus? Stealthily Judas arose. He knew the ground well; many times he had strolled in this peaceful grove during visits to Jerusalem. He walked through the olive orchard to the road that led to Bethany. Across the Valley of Kidron the walls of Jerusalem gleamed white in the moonlight. Still he saw no sign of Jesus. Judas did not cross the deserted road, but walked carefully toward the section of the orchard that lay farthest from the sleeping disciples. A low wall loomed ahead; here the great press was built which crushed the oil from the olives. Silently Judas climbed over the wall and stood still for a moment, listening intently. But Judas heard nothing. He started across the enclosure around the olive press, but stopped suddenly. Only a few steps away from Judas knelt Jesus, his face bowed almost to the ground. The moonlight striking down through the trees shone around him. Judas was shivering in the frosty night; for an instant he wondered how Jesus could endure the cold. Judas breathed softly; he had not been heard! Then, so gently that Judas was not even startled, a voice sounded. Jesus was praying. "Heavenly Father, I have proclaimed thy gospel to the disciples whom thou hast given me. They have believed thy word. They know that my message comes from thee; they believe that thou didst send me. "Bless them. Heavenly Father. I am going to leave them; they must stay in the world. Keep them by thy power, holy Father. I have given them thy Word, and the world hates them because they belong to thee. I do not ask thee to take them out of the world; protect them from the evil one. Consecrate them by thy truth; thy Word is truth. As thou hast sent me into the world, so I have sent them into the world." Judas stood like a statue; the Master was praying for him! Jesus had not finished. "I do not pray only for my disciples. Heavenly Father. I pray for all who believe in me: make them all one together! Help them to be one as we are one--I in them and thou in me. O Father in heaven, just and merciful, the world has not known thee, but I have; and my followers know that I have come from thee. Give them the love which has bound thee to me and me to them." The prayer ended. How terribly calm Jesus was! He was so sure that God was right there! With an effort Judas controlled a mad desire to flee and instead walked quietly away. But when he was out of earshot he broke into a run. Not knowing where he was going, he ran until his breath came in gasps. He found himself among houses. It was Bethany, empty and bare in the night, but here where people lived he felt secure from the terror of the Garden where Jesus was talking with God. Dreading to go back to the Hill of Olives, Judas slumped down on a bench beside the town well. He remembered the day he had first heard Jesus preach in Jerusalem. What mysterious power had compelled him to follow this strange Rabbi? Since then he himself had often preached the gospel of the Kingdom which he had learned from Jesus. Judas pressed his fists against his temples. Never, never could he escape this man from Nazareth! God was in him! Every memory of his life with Jesus rose up and condemned Judas for his bargain with the priests. He could never keep it! He would go back to Jesus and confess his great sin! He stood up shivering. It was the cold of the night, he told himself. He took a few faltering steps toward Gethsemane and stopped. What could he be thinking of? Was he serious about giving up his plan to put Jesus in the power of the high priest? Judas dropped again to the bench. He had promised to help the high priest for good reasons. Jesus _was_ a very dangerous man! If he should confess his bargain to Jesus now, he might be helping to overthrow the sacred religion of his nation! No! He must go through with it! Jesus must be stopped! The moon was pale in the dawn when Judas finally forced himself to go back to the olive orchard. He could not put Jesus' prayer out of his mind. How could he ever face him? Yet Judas found courage and strength in the thought that God knew that he was doing this difficult thing for the sake of true religion. Comforted by this, he crept to the place where the men slept and lay down on the hard ground. Just the same, his heart was cold within him as he watched the dawn change the sky. A half hour later the sun was still hidden behind the hills of Judea; gray light filled the olive grove. The disciples slept, but Judas was wide-awake. Suddenly he heard a footfall. Among the trees he saw a figure moving toward them. For an instant panic gripped him. Was someone else guiding the priests to the place where Jesus stayed? Judas shook Peter by the shoulder. "Simon Peter! Peter!" The fisherman did not move. Judas shook him harder. "Eh? What is it?" Peter was heavy with sleep. "There is someone coming." Instantly Peter was awake. Judas pointed to the man, now very near them. Peter stood up, and Judas followed him. They recognized a young man whom they had seen often in the Temple. "I am glad to find you awake," he said to Peter. "I have come to warn you of danger." Judas' heart leaped. Had this fellow seen him going into the priests' council chamber? "I am a student in the Temple," explained the young man. "I have heard your Rabbi every day." Peter looked closely at the face of the youth. He seemed sincere. "Yesterday the priests had a meeting. They are going to stop your Rabbi!" Fear was like a heavy hand on Judas. This fellow was going to betray him to Peter! "What do you mean?" asked Peter. The other disciples were aroused by Peter's voice. Several sat up and stared at the three men. "I do not know just what they plan to do," continued the student. "But I know that they want to accuse him before Pilate." Relief flooded through Judas. The man did not know! Jesus still slept soundly, but the others gathered around. "This young man says that the priests are plotting to arrest us," Peter said to them. The dawn light, dimmed by the morning mist, threw an ashy gray color over the faces of the Twelve. Peter could see that they were afraid and very suspicious of the visitor. He turned sharply to him. "Why have you come out here?" The young man did not hesitate. "Your Rabbi knows the truth about us. We all know he is right; that is why the others hate him so!" He looked down at Jesus. "But I believe his word! God has sent him to call us back to Him!" Judas turned away. The courage of this young man made the disciples ashamed. After a moment James said, "We thank you for coming here." The young man smiled and answered: "I must go back to the Temple. Let no harm come to your Rabbi!" Without comment the twelve men watched him leave. The warm sunlight awakened Jesus when the mist began to drift away. He was surprised to find all the men up. A few were talking quietly; others sat alone. Judas' back was turned. Peter came over to Jesus. "A student from the Temple came here while you slept, Master. He told us that the priests are plotting against us." All but Judas were looking at Jesus. He stood up. His cloak was soiled from constant use. Small twigs and dirt clung to the coarse cloth. But tangled hair and rumpled clothes could not hide the Master's great dignity. His voice was untroubled when he answered. "Today is the Feast of the Passover. Today the lamb is killed so that the people may be saved. The Father in heaven has sent the Son of Man to be delivered up. In a little while you will see me no more; then after a short time you will see me again." "We do not understand what you are saying. Master," said Peter. "You will soon be full of sorrow--but the people who hate me will be glad that they have overcome me," answered Jesus. "But your sorrow will turn to joy. Right now you are full of fear--and you will be even more afraid! But do not lose heart: I will return and give you the kind of joy that no one can take away from you." The disciples could make nothing of Jesus' words. What could he mean by saying, "I will return"? Jesus prepared to go into Jerusalem. With growing dread, the disciples realized what he intended to do. Would he pay no attention to the warnings of the young man? As they came into the Temple, Jesus found a large crowd that had gathered early to meet him. The disciples felt like prisoners giving up all hope of freedom. At first not a priest or Pharisee was anywhere to be seen. So eagerly did the disciples keep watch that they hardly heard what Jesus was saying. "Do not let anyone deceive you," he warned the people. "In the last days many false prophets will come in the name of God--but do not follow them! If you are my true followers, men will hate you and try to kill you. But even when you are dragged before kings and priests and put on trial, tell everyone the gospel of God! Do not worry or try to prepare ahead of time--I will give you answers that your enemies cannot escape." "Look!" whispered Andrew. "There they come!" Judas saw a priest he had talked to the day before walking toward Jesus. But the Master paid no attention. "In those days," he continued, "your own friends will betray you. They will put you to death. Everyone will hate you for my sake--but do not be afraid! If you are willing to give your life for me, you shall have eternal life." Like darts his words struck into Judas. "The time will come when Jerusalem will be surrounded by enemy armies," declared Jesus. "Then she will soon be destroyed. Let everyone flee to the hills for his life, for in those days God will punish this wicked city for her sin. Every single building will be leveled to the ground!" "Our beautiful Temple!" cried a man in the crowd. "Look at these great stones! Will all this be destroyed?" "I tell you solemnly," declared Jesus, "the day is coming when not one stone in this Temple will be left standing!" The priest broke in. "How do you dare say that? This is the house of God. It took the finest workmen in Israel forty-six years to build it. God will not let his Temple be destroyed!" "You do not know how to save your Temple!" retorted Jesus. "You think it is holy because you make many sacrifices in it! But I tell you that your enemies will tear down your Temple and kill your children, all because you do not know that God has come to you!" "What do you mean?" exclaimed the priest. "Look at the monuments we have built in memory of the prophets!" "You decorate the tombs of the prophets and say to yourselves, 'If we had lived then, we would have treated them better!' But you kill the prophets that God sends you, just as your ancestors did! "Your religion is like a filthy cup: bright and shiny on the outside, but dirty inside! Your Temple is beautiful, but your religion is rotten!" The priests shrank back from the sheer force of Jesus' anger. "You are like whitewashed tombs: clean on the outside, but inside they stink with rotten bones! You put on a show of goodness--but your hearts are filled with hypocrisy and wickedness!" The disciples were horrified. Jesus was attacking the very priests themselves! Did he realize what would happen? "God will punish you for killing the prophets, just as he condemned your wicked fathers for their sins! You snakes! You nest of vipers! There is no way for you to escape eternal fire!" The priests flushed crimson. The people watched them stalk into the inner court. Judas saw the hatred on their faces and knew that they would never be satisfied until they had killed Jesus. He was glad now that he had gone over to their side. "We had better leave this place!" whispered Andrew to Peter. He looked toward the gate where the priests had gone. But Jesus was talking to the people again. "He will never leave!" answered Peter. Panic seized the Zealot. "Come on! We must get out of here!" He kept looking at the guards in the tower. "What are you thinking of?" demanded Peter, turning on him. "We can't leave the Master alone!" "I'm not going to be caught like a rat in a trap!" The Zealot looked at the high walls around them. "I will not leave this place until the Master does," declared James firmly. "You will never get out," warned the Zealot. "Just the same, I'm staying," repeated James stubbornly. All day the crowd listened eagerly to every word that Jesus spoke. Even in their despair the disciples knew that Jesus would consider the day well spent. "How I wish he would leave!" burst out John, late that afternoon. "Where will we eat the Passover meal tonight?" During a pause he asked Jesus the question. "You and Peter go into the city," answered Jesus. "You will meet a man carrying a water jar. Follow him to his house. Tell the owner that the Rabbi says, 'Where is the room in which I am to eat the Passover with my disciples?' This man will show you a large room upstairs, with table and couches arranged for us. Prepare the Passover meal there." The two disciples were amazed: Jesus had planned the meal ahead of time! Glad to get out of the Temple, they did as they were told. At twilight, Jesus and the others arrived. All except Jesus were completely worn out. They had given up all hope. Who could tell what might happen before this night was over? Like men in a daze, the disciples washed their hands in basins which Peter and John had filled with water. Then they lay down on the couches around the table. But Jesus did not immediately lie down with the others. Curiously the men watched him take off his robe and tie a towel around his waist. He began to pour water into a basin. Then Jesus carried the basin to where Andrew lay and knelt at his couch. The fisherman hardly knew what to say. Slaves and servants washed the feet of guests! Silently Jesus washed the feet of all the Twelve, coming last to Simon Peter. "Master! You shall not do this for me!" He drew away from Jesus, who was kneeling at the foot of his couch. "Peter, you do not understand why I am doing this--but very soon you will!" "I will never let you wash my feet!" protested Peter. "Unless I wash your feet," answered Jesus gravely, "you cannot share in my suffering and my glory." Peter realized how much this act meant to Jesus. "O Master, wash my head and my hands too!" "No," replied Jesus, drying Peter's feet with the towel, "since I have done this, you are clean all over. No more is needed." Reverence filled the disciples as they listened to his words; but not until he had put on his robe and taken his place at the table did they understand. "Do you know why I have done this?" he asked. "You call me your Rabbi and your Master--and that is right: I am your Master. If I am willing to wash your feet, should you not serve one another? No servant is greater than his Master. You must learn this: if any man wishes to be great in the Kingdom of Heaven, he must be the slave of all men for my sake." The disciples began to eat. The supper was simple. A piece of roast lamb in a shallow bowl was the chief dish. There was a plate of unleavened bread, a vegetable, and a bowl of sauce made of dates, raisins, and vinegar. There was nothing else except a single large cup of wine mixed with water. Each man took a piece of meat in his hand and ate it. Some first dipped it into the vinegar sauce. The men were glad for the food, but it did not drive away their discouragement. Everyone knew it could not be long until they were arrested. Amid these dark thoughts, Jesus spoke. "The hand of him who betrays me is with me on this table!" The disciples could hardly believe their ears. "One of us--betray you?" asked Peter. They looked at each other. "One of you at this table will betray me, but woe to him who does this deed!" declared Jesus. "Is it I?" asked James. He seemed to doubt even himself. John leaned back to Jesus. "Tell us who it is, Master." "It is not I, is it, Rabbi?" urged Judas. Jesus turned to him. "Are you sure it is not you?" He looked accusingly at Judas. Then Jesus said sternly, "Whatever you are planning to do--do it quickly!" Judas left the room immediately. "He must be going out to pay for the food," remarked Andrew. "Master, I don't care what the others may do; I will stay with you!" declared Peter. Jesus looked at him sadly: "Peter, you are going to face a terrible test, but I have asked God to help you. You must help the others." "Master," repeated Peter, eager to convince himself that he was not afraid, "I swear that I will do anything for you. I am ready even to die for you!" Jesus shook his head. "You have promised more than you can do. Before the cock crows at dawn you will deny three times that you ever knew me!" When the men had finished eating the meat, Jesus picked up a piece of the unleavened bread and held it in his hands. "I have looked forward to eating this Passover meal with you before my suffering begins." He raised his eyes. "Heavenly Father, I thank thee that thou hast shown mercy and love to thy children. I thank thee that thou hast hidden these things from the wise and revealed them to babes." Then Jesus broke the bread and gave the pieces to the disciples, saying: "Take this bread. It is my body; I am the Bread of Life. If you believe in me, you already have eternal life. Just as I have broken this bread, my body will be broken when I suffer for you. Every time you break bread, therefore, remember what I have done for you." The men were not sure that they understood all that Jesus meant, but they knew they were somehow sharing the life of their Master as they took the bread and ate it. Then Jesus took the large cup of wine and water in his hand. "This cup of wine stands for a promise of salvation: take it and drink the wine, every one of you. This wine is my lifeblood, which I give that you may have eternal life. Whenever you drink it, remember my promise to you." Jesus handed the cup to John, who was reclining next to him. John sipped from it and passed it on. Reverently each man drank from the cup. Jesus put it on the table and arose from his couch. The group stood and chanted together a psalm of thanksgiving: "I love the Lord, because he heareth My voice and my supplications. Because he hath inclined his ear unto me, Therefore will I call upon him as long as I live. The cords of death entangled me, And the pains of hell laid hold on me: I found trouble and sorrow. Then called I upon the name of the Lord: O Lord, I beseech thee, deliver my soul. Gracious is the Lord, and righteous; Yea, our God is merciful. The Lord saveth the simple; I was discouraged, and he saved me. Return unto thy rest, O my soul; For the Lord hath blessed thee greatly." "Come! Follow me!" Abruptly Jesus walked from the room, down the stairs, and into the dark street. The moon had just risen; it hung low over the Hill of Olives, blood-red in a black sky, giving almost no light. Jesus walked swiftly toward the city gate. The disciples glanced up and down each street they crossed, alert for any sign of soldiers. It did not take them long to reach the foot of the Hill of Olives. Jesus did not go to their usual resting place. Instead, he led the eleven men toward his place of prayer in the Garden of Gethsemane. They were panting for breath when Jesus entered a narrow gate through the stone wall that Judas had climbed over the night before. The Garden was dark. Among the dense trees the moon could not be seen at all. During the week, the men had slept under clear skies; but now there was a damp chill that threatened a storm on the morrow. When Jesus stopped, his followers sank wearily on the ground. "Wait here for me while I pray," said Jesus. A note of distress had crept into his voice. He turned to Peter, James, and John. "Come with me." They groped their way through the woods, their hands before them. Jesus stopped. "My soul is very sorrowful, even to death. Wait here and pray for me." The men had never known Jesus to be like this before; he was almost appealing to them for help. A short distance away Jesus knelt on the ground. The hard day, the meal, and the walk up the hill had made the fishermen drowsy, but they heard Jesus praying very earnestly. "O Father, thou canst do all things! If it be possible, spare me this suffering. Nevertheless not my will, but thine, be done." They heard his voice no more. Peter did not know how long he had slept when he was awakened by Jesus' shaking his shoulder. "Simon Peter! Are you sleeping? Couldn't you stay awake and pray with me even one hour?" James and John roused themselves. "Stay awake, all of you. Pray that you will not fail me now when I need you most! I know you want to be my true friends--but you have not the strength!" Hard as the three men tried, they could not stay awake. Twice more Jesus came and aroused them. The last time Peter awoke the moon was high, but was almost hidden behind a cloud. He could make out the faint outline of the figure of Jesus standing beside him. A chilly wind had sprung up and rattled the leaves. The night wind carried a warning Peter could not understand. James and John slept heavily. "Still resting?" said Jesus. The two men stirred and looked at Jesus, greatly ashamed. "Come! Get up! The hour has come when the Son of Man is to be betrayed into the hands of sinful men!" Through the black woods rang the sound of a sword clanging against a steel shin guard. Peter leaped to his feet. "James! John!" Through the gnarled trees the men saw a sight that struck terror into their hearts: led by Roman soldiers, a mob carrying torches was advancing toward them. The yellow flames whipped in the wind and cast hideous twisting shadows as they came nearer the Garden. "They must know we are here!" whispered James. "Come on! Let's get out of here!" The two fishermen fled into the darkness. Torchlight glinted on spears and helmets. There was no sign of the other eight disciples. Peter stood rooted to the spot from which he had risen. Jesus watched calmly. Some in the noisy crowd carried clubs. The light from the flares struck through the trees and fell full on Jesus' face. "There he is!" The cry echoed in the Garden. A wall of smoking torches and gleaming swords and shields closed around Peter and Jesus. There was no escape now. A Roman soldier stepped forward. "Hold up that torch!" he commanded his aide. In the wavering light he peered into the faces of Peter and Jesus. Another figure stepped from the group. "Judas!" Peter was stunned. "Hail, Master!" said Judas. Then very deliberately, as though forcing himself, he kissed Jesus. "Do you betray me with a kiss, Judas?" asked Jesus, sadly. The traitor could not bear the voice of the man he had once called his Master; he turned and rushed out of the circle of Jews and soldiers. Peter never saw him again. The captain gave a sharp command, and several soldiers stepped toward Jesus. The group of men broke into angry shouts. Jesus' stern voice rang through the clamor. "Why do you come to arrest me with swords and clubs as though I were a robber? Day after day I was in the Temple teaching--you never tried to arrest me there!" For an instant the torches ceased waving. Then the mob surged all the more angrily upon Peter and Jesus. Peter snatched his short sword from his belt and struck a wild blow. A man cried out sharply. The captain shouted a command: soldiers pushed through the rabble and seized Jesus. A burly soldier knocked Peter backward; he fell heavily and lay still. When Peter came to his senses, he was breathing hard. He had no idea how long he had been stretched on the ground half stunned. He lifted himself on one elbow. Torches were moving down the road. The sound of the mob was faint in his ears. For the first time Peter realized that he was alone. The Master was gone! What would he do without him? Loneliness swept over the fisherman. He leaped to his feet and dashed headlong through the trees where the soldiers had led Jesus. He tripped over a root and plunged to his knees; branches lashed his face when he arose, but in his panic he did not feel them. He burst out onto the road. In the distance the tiny lights were going out, one by one, as the procession entered the gate of Jerusalem. With a cry of helpless despair, Peter ran down the hill toward the city. [Illustration] 17. THE DARKEST HOUR OF ALL As Peter ran he realized that he did not know where the Roman soldiers were taking Jesus. What if he should lose sight of them? He was gasping for breath by the time he reached the city gate. The Temple was closed. Would they lead the Master to Pilate? In the darkness, Peter could barely make out the massive bulk of the fortress of Antonia, the Roman prison. No sound broke the silence within its walls. Peter ran a few steps and stood panting at the first street crossing. Desperately he glanced one way and the other. If only there were someone to tell him which way they had gone with Jesus! Would they go to the house of the high priest himself? Peter turned and ran toward the south side of Jerusalem, his sandals clattering on the stone paving. At every turn in the winding street Peter peered into the darkness, hoping to see the wavering light of torches ahead of him. He did not notice a dark figure standing against the wall of a house that closed in the narrow street until he ran into him. Startled but glad to see someone, Peter asked, "Sir, have you seen soldiers and men with clubs passing this way?" The question was out before he realized his danger. What if this stranger were an enemy? He could not even see his face. The man's answer was cautious. "Some men went by here a few minutes ago." The voice seemed familiar to Peter. "Did they have a prisoner?" he asked. "The torches were too dim for me to see." Peter forgot to thank the stranger in his haste to overtake Jesus. He rounded the next corner, running, then stopped short. Flickering straight ahead of him were torches. Soon he was close enough behind the men who carried them to see more clearly. The yellow flames threw weird patterns on the houses: shadows of men twisted and dodged on the walls as the torchbearers swung the lights to and fro. Peter followed cautiously, coming no closer than necessary. His heart leaped when he heard a step behind him. He jerked around and saw a young priest. Fear clutched at him. He was trapped! Before he could move, the man spoke. "There they are." Peter recognized the voice. It was the person he had run into a moment before! The priest looked at him curiously and exclaimed, "You were with the Galilean, weren't you?" A denial sprang to Peter's lips. Then he recognized the priest: it was the student who had come to the Hill of Olives that very morning! "What are they going to do?" Peter could keep back his anxiety no longer. The young priest shook his head gravely. "I fear the worst. Look! They have stopped!" He pointed. The torches shone on a heavy wooden gate. It swung open, and the group started to enter. "Let's follow them in," urged the priest. "Oh, no!" protested Peter. "They will recognize me. They wouldn't let me in anyway." But the priest was already hastening ahead. Peter followed. His friend entered with the last of the group, and the gates swung shut. A servant woman stood outside to question everyone who wanted to go into the house of the high priest. Torches fastened to the walls on each side of the gate threw a pool of yellow light on the street. Peter could hear many people inside; torchlight flickered on the high walls of the palace of the high priest, rising behind the gate. Driven by curiosity, Peter came closer and closer. The woman looked at him but said nothing. Peter hid his face; he was glad the torches were smoky and low. Suddenly the gate opened, and Peter saw his friend. "Let this man in," he ordered the servant woman. There was nothing for Peter to do but go in. As soon as he stepped into the light the woman said loudly: "Wait a minute! Aren't you one of this Galilean's followers?" Peter froze with fear. "No!" he snapped, and plunged through the gate to get away from her. Sweat stood out on his forehead. A narrow escape! Peter was relieved that the large courtyard of the high priest's palace was so crowded. He shrank into a shadowed corner and anxiously searched for Jesus. In this great house met the Sanhedrin, the great council of all the rulers of the Jews. Peter saw the rough soldier who had knocked him down standing outside the door. Jesus must be inside! There was nothing to do but wait. Peter began to feel cold. Near the center of the yard several men had built a charcoal fire. Peter was tempted to warm his hands, but immediately gave up the idea: these very men had seen him in the Garden! He walked back and forth in the shadows, but it did not help much: his feet were getting numb. He wished he had never come into the courtyard. If he tried to get out, the woman would see him. Fifteen minutes passed. What was happening in the priest's dark palace? Peter shivered and pulled his coat tight around him. How good that fire would feel! At last he could stand it no longer. Taking care to keep the firelight from shining on his face, he went nearer. "How long will it take to condemn him?" Peter heard one of the men ask impatiently. "It won't be long," answered another. He was in the uniform of the high priest's servants. "Too bad his disciples got away!" growled the first. "I would like to get hold of that one that struck Malchus with his sword!" A man came out of the palace and joined the others around the fire. "He's a stubborn fellow!" exclaimed the man. "He won't answer any questions!" "What about the witnesses?" inquired a man who had not spoken before. The other laughed. "They tell different stories! They can't agree on what the Galilean said!" "Don't worry," said the high priest's servant confidently. "No matter what happens, they won't let him get away now." The last spark of hope in Peter died. The priests were determined to kill Jesus. The end had come. Peter did not notice that the man in front of him had moved so that the firelight shone directly on his face. "Say! Weren't you with that Galilean?" Like a thunderbolt the question struck Peter. He stiffened with terror and cursed himself for having dared to come near the fire. "Of course not!" he answered gruffly, and backed away. The man who had seen him strike Malchus with his sword had not heard the question. Peter sighed. His luck could not last much longer. A group of people were going through the gate. Perhaps he could slip out without being noticed. The priest who had got him in here had disappeared. A cry went up at the door of the palace. Guards were coming out of the priests' council room! Suddenly Jesus stood in the doorway. Peter's throat went dry. What had they done to his Master? His face was swollen from many blows. It glistened wet in the firelight--they had spit on him! Jesus stumbled as he came down the short stone staircase. A rough fellow kicked him. "Get along there!" He laughed coarsely. Pity flooded through Peter, then rage at the man who had hurt Jesus. "What is the verdict?" A man was speaking to Peter. "The verdict?" Peter mumbled the words stupidly. Another man answered the question. "He is doomed to die." Peter looked from one to the other. "Die?" "Yes. They are going to ask Pilate to sentence him to death." The others looked at Peter curiously. Someone grabbed him roughly by the shoulder. "Say, you! Didn't I see you in the olive orchard?" A guard! He waved to the others. "Come over here! Here is one of the Galileans. Listen to his accent!" Like icy water, fear swept Peter's daze away. Faces full of scorn surrounded him. Panic-stricken, Peter wrenched loose. "In the name of God, I never even heard of this Jesus!" he swore. "What are you talking about?" Then a shrill sound caught Peter's ear. The words stopped in his throat. Outside the wall a rooster was crowing. Peter's lips were open, but no sound came from them. He was staring at the man who had accused him, but he didn't see him. The flush of anger and panic drained from his face. Jesus had heard. With terrible dread, Peter watched his Master turn. Their eyes met. Time stood still. Peter forgot everyone else: there were just the two of them. Master and cursing disciple. The sadness in Jesus' eyes burned through Peter. "Do you betray me too, Peter?" the Master seemed to say. "Come on! Get going!" A guard slapped Jesus heavily. Driven by the rough men, Jesus went out of the gate. Like a sleepwalker, Peter followed. The guards did not try to stop him. The servant woman at the gate did not notice him. For an instant he stood in the street watching the men take Jesus away. The gate closed behind him. Then the terrible dream broke; scalding tears flooded Peter's eyes. They came from his very heart. He walked a little way down the dark street and stopped, leaning against a stone wall. Desperately he pressed his face into his hands. How could he stand this bitter remorse? If only he had been faithful to his Master! Peter was certain that the end had come; he dreaded seeing his Master condemned to death by the Roman governor, Pilate. All night he walked the deserted streets of Jerusalem. But when morning came he could not stay away from the fortress of Antonia, where he knew that Jesus would soon be brought before Pilate. In the cold dawn it was a forbidding sight. Herod the Great, who had ruled before Pilate's time, had covered the massive rock on which the fortress stood with stones too steep and smooth for attackers to climb. The walls rose sixty feet above this and towers were built at each corner. The guards on the highest towers were one hundred and eighty feet above the pavement inside the fortress. From it they could see everything in the Temple below as well as the countryside north, east, and west of Jerusalem. A short stairway led from the Temple porch into the fort. A crowd of men were gathered in the Temple' courtyard, among them not one who had ever heard Jesus teach. Peter had lost all fear of being seen. As he waited, his mind was entirely taken up with thoughts of what might be happening to his Master behind the closed doors of Pilate's judgment hall. Peter was surprised to see Pilate come out of the fort down the steps into the Temple. Where was Jesus? Why did Pilate come here? Then Peter remembered: the priests would not enter the Roman building, for fear of making themselves impure for the Passover. After a delay Pilate came slowly out of the high priest's council chamber. He stopped and looked at the men crowded before him. A few cried out, "Where is the Galilean?" Pilate waved his hand for silence. "I have examined this Jesus. He has not committed any crime." A priest in the crowd cried out loudly: "He is stirring up the people! He has made trouble both in Galilee and in Judea." "I have examined him, and so has Herod," declared Pilate. "We agree that he does not deserve to die. I am going to order my soldiers to whip him and let him go." The crowd was still. Then a priest cried out: "No! Away with him! He is destroying our holy religion!" The rabble in the court burst out with angry shouts: "To the cross with him!" Pilate turned around and went into the fortress. The priests were worried lest Jesus be set free. They began to argue with the men in the courtyard. "Do not let him escape now!" they urged. "Make Pilate crucify him!" A shout arose when a group of Roman soldiers came out of the fort into the Temple; Jesus was with them. A cry broke from Peter's lips when he saw his Master before the crowd. Thorn branches had been twisted into a wreath and pressed on his head. He wore a purple robe. Peter could see he was in pain. "Behold! Here is the man!" cried Pilate. "Crucify him! Crucify him!" Pilate hesitated. "If you let him go, you are an enemy of the Roman emperor!" shouted a priest. Peter could tell that Pilate was afraid. He walked to the stone seat where he announced his decisions. Embedded in the pavement before him was the Roman seal and some Latin words. The Roman guards led Jesus to another seat. He was very weak from his beating. While the people were shouting, Pilate turned toward the priests gathered in a knot near his judgment seat and said bitterly: "You have wanted a Jewish king--well, here he is! Behold the king of the Jews!" The high priest looked coldly at Pilate and said, "We have only one king: Caesar." Pilate looked down at the ground. There was one more possibility. This innocent Galilean might yet go free. Pilate remembered that custom allowed him to set free one prisoner at Passover time--a prisoner whom the people chose. Amid the commotion in the courtyard, Pilate stared at the Latin words on the pavement before him. If only the people would ask that Jesus be released! "I shall let one prisoner go free," cried the governor. "Shall it be Bar-Abbas or the king of the Jews?" A priest called out, "Give us Bar-Abbas!" Then the crowd took up the cry, "We want Bar-Abbas!" Bar-Abbas! A murderer? Peter could hardly believe it! The cries grew louder. "Give us Bar-Abbas!" "What shall I do with Jesus, called 'the Christ'?" Pilate asked, cornered. The people saw that he feared them, and their hateful screams made Peter shiver. "Crucify him! Crucify him!" The crowd surged toward Jesus, and the Roman guards drew their swords to protect their prisoner. Pilate saw that only blood would satisfy the people. Amid the tumult he sat silent, his eyes once again on the Latin words before him. At last he stood up. He was beaten. The crowd was almost out of control. Several times he raised his hand and started to speak, but each time he could scarcely hear his own voice. The leader of the palace guard glanced anxiously at Pilate and waved to a group of soldiers waiting inside the fort. They made a tight circle around Jesus. Pilate dropped his hand limply and turned to the priest. "Do with him whatever you want." The bloodthirsty mob surged toward the guards, but could not break through the line of soldiers, which stood like a steel wall until the door of the fort had slammed shut behind Jesus. Peter made no attempt to follow. He took little notice of the men around him, who gave him curious stares. Peter walked to the place where Jesus had stood. He looked down and read the words which were written on the pavement in front of the judgment seat: JUSTICE AND MERCY. Pilate too had betrayed the Christ! [Illustration] 18. THE ROCK OF FAITH The Passover Feast was ended, and the pilgrims from Galilee were leaving Jerusalem. The friends of Jesus, and especially the eleven disciples, were dazed by the death of their Master. In the blackest discouragement, wondering what they should do, they gathered at the house where Jesus had eaten his last meal. They repeated over and over again the story of the things that had happened. Some talked about returning to Galilee. Two followers who lived in Emmaus, a town several miles west of Jerusalem, decided to go back to their homes. The two men took the road that led over the hill of Calvary where Jesus had died. The cross still stood. Moving in the breeze was the sign which Pilate had ordered tacked to the very top: THE KING OF THE JEWS. At the hour of Jesus' death this hill had trembled as a storm thundered through the sky. But now Calvary was quiet. In the bright morning the two men could hardly believe that here they had heard the death cry of their Master: "My God, why hast thou forsaken me?" When the men came near the cross, they stood silent for many minutes. Finally Cleopas, the older of the two remarked, "They haven't taken the sign down yet." "Do you think others will be crucified on his cross, Cleopas?" asked the other. "Perhaps." After a long silence, Cleopas added: "Do you remember the centurion who was in charge of the soldiers? Just after Jesus died, I heard him say, 'This man truly was a son of God!'" "Do you think any of the others believed?" mused the other man. "Most of them scoffed!" answered Cleopas bitterly. "One priest said over and over, 'You saved others--now save yourself!' and laughed." Tears of anger sprang into Cleopas' eyes. "That is where his mother stood when he told John to take care of her," remarked his companion. At that moment the wind tore loose the parchment nailed at the top of the cross. It drifted to the ground a few yards away. The younger man looked at Cleopas: "Shall I get it?" After a moment Cleopas replied: "No. Let it lie there. Why keep things that make us remember these days?" He turned his back on the cross and started down the hill toward Emmaus. His companion said nothing; he knew the bitterness that made Cleopas speak this way. The road down to Emmaus was rough but heavily traveled. From all Judea, camel caravans carried olive oil and wool to Joppa, the main seaport of southern Palestine. Up from the sea rode Roman soldiers to guard Jerusalem, Jericho, and the forts across the Jordan. Toward sunset the two travelers came in sight of the Valley of Aijalon, sloping down to the sea. Here King Saul had fought many bloody battles with the ancient Philistines. The low-hanging sun made a great golden blaze on the Mediterranean Sea, twenty miles away. "We are not far from Emmaus now," remarked Cleopas. A warning cry sounded behind them: "Caravan!" The two men moved to the side of the road, and found, when they turned, that another traveler had joined them. He had been very close behind, but the two men had been so deep in conversation that they had not noticed him. After the camels had passed, kicking up the dust with their wide, padded feet, the stranger walked on with them. "What is all this you are talking about?" he asked in a friendly way. Cleopas glanced at his companion. Was it dangerous to answer frankly? Certainly they were safe here! "You must not have stayed in Jerusalem very long if you have not heard about what happened," he replied. "What is that?" asked the man. "It is about Jesus of Nazareth," answered Cleopas. "He was a Galilean. The common people all thought he was a Prophet. God truly had given him a message for us! He warned us to repent and give our lives to God if we wish to have eternal life." Cleopas paused and his companion took up the story. "You see, the high priests hated Jesus because he called them hypocrites to their faces. He was right: they are cruel to the poor! They make many sacrifices, but just the same they do not really love God. Three days ago the priests took him prisoner and handed him over to Pilate to be crucified. We hoped that he would begin a great new day for our people--but now he is dead." The men had reached the foot of the hill. Green grass grew where a tiny brook trickled beside the road. "We did have a surprise though," added Cleopas. "Some women in our group went out to the tomb where we laid him but they could not find his body! They saw a vision of angels who told them he was alive. Some of us went and looked for ourselves. His body was gone--but no one saw Jesus." The stranger looked keenly at the two travelers. "You have read the Prophets, haven't you?" he asked. "They say that the Messiah must suffer before he can be victorious." Cleopas looked at the man curiously. "What do you mean?" he asked. "All the things happened just as the Prophets said," repeated the stranger. "The books of Moses say: 'The Lord thy God will raise up a Prophet among you, from among your very brethren, like me. You must listen to his word!' Is not your Rabbi that One? And Isaiah too. He said: 'Behold, my Servant, whom I have chosen! I will put my Spirit upon him and he shall declare judgment to gentiles. He shall not strive or cry out; no one shall hear his voice in the streets!' Your master is this Servant of God! Did he not die on a cross? Isaiah said that he would be treated like a criminal!" "But if he was the Messiah, why did the priests hate him?" cried Cleopas. "They always kill the messengers of God. Isaiah said, 'They hear, but do not understand; they see, but their minds are blind--their hearts are cold.' These priests will not let God give them eternal life!" All the rest of the way to Emmaus the two friends talked earnestly with this stranger who understood the Scriptures so well. They had never realized that the Prophets taught that the Messiah would die. They had always thought he would triumph over everybody! They remembered now that Jesus had said some of these very things. At last they came to the village. It was dusk. Cleopas stopped in front of a small house. "Come in with us and spend the night, for the day is almost over," he said. With a smile, the stranger accepted. It had been a long journey, and the three men were very hungry. After washing, Cleopas brought bread and fish to the table. They lay down on the hard couches. The guest picked up a small loaf and raised his eyes to bless it. He broke the bread and handed it to the men. They took it from him--and suddenly they knew who he was. There was only one who had ever given them bread like that! It must be the Master himself! They dropped to their knees. Joy, reverence, and fear filled them. When they looked up, Jesus was gone. "No wonder our hearts burned within us while he talked to us on the road!" exclaimed Cleopas. "We must tell the others!" answered his companion. "Let us hurry back to Jerusalem." By the time the moon rose, Cleopas and his companion were halfway to Jerusalem. It made the shadowed ravines between the mountains seem blacker than ever, but they were grateful for the faint light on the road. They knew that robbers could very easily hide among the rocks that lay along the highway. Yet fear was almost forgotten in their great eagerness to get to Jerusalem and tell the news: the Master was alive! The two travelers pressed forward at a pace swifter than they would have thought possible on this steep road. For lack of breath, they talked very little. Twenty miles was a full day's journey--but it was just midnight when the two men hastened past the guards at the Joppa Gate of Jerusalem and half ran to the house where they had left their friends that morning. The building was completely dark. Not a trace of light showed through the closed shutters. Cleopas knocked sharply on the wooden door. In the silence they heard only their own heavy breathing and realized that they were very tired. Cleopas knocked again. There was a muffled footstep inside; then the bolt scraped and the door opened a crack. "Open up!" whispered Cleopas impatiently. It seemed to take a long time for the man at the door to recognize them and open the door. Cleopas and his friend rushed up the stairs and burst into the upper room. Everyone was there. In the instant before he spoke, Cleopas realized that something had changed since he had left in the morning. The men were not dejected; they were talking excitedly. But Cleopas did not stop to find out why. "We have seen him! He is alive!" The disciples leaped to their feet. James stared as though he had not understood. "We saw him on the road to Emmaus!" "You too!" exclaimed Peter. "He ate with us in my home," declared Cleopas. He turned to Peter in amazement. "Did you say you have seen him?" "I saw him this morning. After the women told us they had seen a vision at the tomb, John and I went to look for ourselves. They were right! The Master's body was gone. I came back here and then set out alone for Galilee. I had traveled about an hour when the Master appeared to me, standing in the road. He commanded me to return here." "When we first saw him, we did not know who he was," said Cleopas. Then he told everything that had happened. At first many wondered if the story could be true, but as they listened, their joy and amazement grew. When Cleopas finished, they stirred and sighed. Here was one at least who certainly believed Jesus was alive! The air was heavy in the crowded room. An iron pan filled with burning charcoal stood near the wall. Several broiled fish, left over from supper, lay on the coals. Cleopas and his friend looked at them hungrily. Peter handed pieces to them. James rose from the rough wooden bench on which he sat and opened the shutters. Andrew poured oil from a large jar into the nearly empty lamps. The men breathed deeply of the cool air that swept through the window. The lamplight sprang up. Hope and wonder flickered through the disciples' minds, still dulled by the sorrow of the Master's violent death. "If I could just see him myself!" murmured John. Suddenly Jesus was there. He did not come in--he just appeared standing in the midst of them. John drew in his breath sharply. Was this a ghost? Did the others see? The men shrank from the place where Jesus stood. "Do not be afraid. It is I! Look at my hands and my feet. Do you not see the wounds of the cross?" The men stared. In the palms of his hands James could see the marks of nails. His voice was real too! The men did not trust their eyes. Several reached out timidly and touched the scars. They moved like men in a dream. "Have you any food?" asked Jesus. Peter took another piece of fish from the charcoal stove and handed it to Jesus. When the disciples saw their Master eat, their doubts vanished. They began to talk, trying to realize that the impossible had really happened; their Leader was really living! "Master," burst out James enthusiastically, "are you going to drive out the Romans now and give the Kingdom back to us?" The others suddenly became quiet, listening for his answer. "It is not for you to know when the Father in heaven will do that, James," replied Jesus. "In his own time he will destroy all evil. He has already come among you: all you must do is accept the power he gives you to obey his commands." "Master, what do you want us to do?" asked Peter. Hearing his brother's strong voice, Andrew could hardly believe that only that morning Peter had tried to leave Jerusalem because everything reminded him that he had denied his Lord. Jesus looked around at the circle of his disciples and raised his hands over them. "Just as the Father sent me into the world," he said, "I am sending you. May the Holy Spirit fill you with power. Go into every part of the world and tell all men that the Christ has suffered and risen from the dead to give them eternal life. Those who repent and believe this gospel shall be forgiven their sins. But if anyone does not believe your words, the anger of God hangs over him!" As mysteriously as he had come, Jesus left the men. They remained silent. Each man saw in the face of the others a joy none could express. At last Peter spoke: "We must let everyone know that Jesus has risen from the dead!" Day by day the disciples learned that Jesus was doing greater things among them than he had ever done before. Faith which had been uncertain was now sure. Every afternoon the disciples went to the Temple to pray and tell the story of Jesus' power. Some people were surprised, for they thought the work of Jesus would stop when he was crucified. But many believed the word of the disciples and became followers with them. It was not long before the success of Peter and the others came to the attention of the high priest. One day, immediately after the hour of prayer, he called his councilors together. "Did you see that fisherman who used to follow the Galilean we killed?" he demanded. "He was standing boldly in the Temple declaring that his Rabbi is alive!" Purple veins stood out on the face and throat of the angry man. "Have you ever heard such an insolent lie? They have invented the whole story from beginning to end!" "The other men were with him," added a councilor. "They succeeded in getting the people very much stirred up." "It must be stopped! If we can silence them with threats--all right. If not...." He lapsed into silence. Then his anger boiled to the surface again. "What man in his right mind could believe such a fairy tale? That upstart from Galilee--risen from the dead!" A young priest sighed and spoke. "What can we do? Those men seem to believe very sincerely that it happened." The high priest was instantly suspicious. "You sound as though you agreed with them," he observed bitingly. "I'll tell you what we must do! Keep a sharp watch on them. The minute they make trouble--arrest them! We can do whatever we want then." Just before the hour of prayer the following afternoon, Peter and John entered the Temple with the worshipers who were streaming from the city. To the two disciples it seemed a long time since Jesus had been there, but nothing was changed. The row of slender columns which enclosed the inner court was majestic in the afternoon sunlight. Words of Moses, carved in the stone of the Beautiful Gate, invited every Jew to enter for prayer. There were no money-changers there. Since Jesus had driven them out, neither they nor the sellers of animals had tried to come back. Two men carrying a cripple on a litter passed Peter and John. The disciples had seen him before, begging money from all who walked by. His helpers placed him near the Beautiful Gate as Peter and John climbed up the steps toward him. The beggar looked at them, smiled, and held out his hand. "Will you give a little money to a lame man?" he asked. Peter and John stopped in front of the man. He was a miserable sight--dirty, ragged, and thin from hunger. His bony legs were paralyzed and useless. "Look at us!" commanded Peter. The beggar looked at them expectantly. "We do not have any money," said Peter, "but we will give you what we do have! By the power of Jesus Christ the Nazarene, stand up and walk!" Peter stooped and pulled the man to his feet. People had turned at the sound of Peter's voice. The beggar was standing alone! The man looked at his feet; then, utterly amazed, took a cautious step. The trumpet sounded from the roof of the Temple, calling the people to prayer, but none paid any attention; they rushed toward the beggar to see what had happened. Swiftly Peter led the man toward the outer part of the Temple courtyard. The people crowded after Peter. At the trumpet signal the high priest left the council chamber and entered the rear gate of the inner court. How strange! The Temple was deserted! Two other priests came into the court. "What has happened?" they asked, baffled. "Where are the people?" Through the columns, the high priest saw people running. "Look!" he exclaimed. He turned and waved to several burly guards in the uniform of the high priest's palace. "We need you here!" They followed the priests toward the sound of the crowd. People were pushing forward to catch a glimpse of the beggar clinging to the two disciples. Peter raised his hands and cried out so all could hear: "Men of Israel, why are you so surprised at this? Why are you staring at us as though we had healed this man by our own strength? We did not do it at all!" Astonished at his words, the people became very quiet. Peter saw the high priest, but his voice did not waver. "My friends, this man was not healed by any power of ours. He was healed in the name of Jesus of Nazareth, God's Chosen Servant. The God of Israel sent him to tell you the gospel of life, but you refused to listen to him. You handed him over to Pilate to be killed! Even when the governor wanted to release him, you demanded that this holy and just One from God should be crucified!" The high priest turned and spoke to the guards, but Peter did not hesitate a moment. "We declare to you that God raised Jesus from the dead--we have seen him ourselves! His power healed this man! I know that you killed the Lord of Life without realizing what you were doing. But the Prophets knew this would happen to the Christ; they said he would suffer! God has chosen this way of saving you!" There was a disturbance at the edge of the crowd. Guards were thrusting the people roughly aside in their haste to get to him. "Repent now!" cried Peter boldly. "Ask God to forgive you for the terrible thing you have done, in order that your sin may be blotted out. God sent Jesus to be your Saviour!" The guards burst through the crowd and seized Peter. Quickly his wrists were tied with rope. A cry of protest rose. Two men stepped in front of the guards as they shoved Peter toward the gate of the Roman fort next to the Temple, but they were quickly beaten off by curses and the threat of the clubs. "What must we do?" cried a man in the crowd, cut to the heart by Peter's words. In spite of the guards Peter bravely called out: "Repent and give your whole life to God! Believe in the name of Jesus Christ, the Saviour!" "Silence!" The chief guard struck Peter with his club. When they came to the priests, the guards stopped. The high priest and the fisherman from Galilee stood face to face. Peter's clothes were torn, and his hands were bound behind him. The anger of the high priest had turned to scornful triumph. For a moment he stood sneering at Peter; then he stepped toward him and slapped him heavily across the face. "You liar! You will find out that you can't blaspheme the Law of God!" Peter's face showed red marks. His eyes shone with a strange joy, and he smiled. His voice was fearless, its sound filled the whole Temple. "I shall never stop telling what I have seen with my own eyes! I shall obey God, and not man!" Pain shot through his shoulder as a guard struck him a heavy blow and shoved him roughly toward the fortress gate. Without looking back, Peter walked courageously into the Roman prison. SCRIPTURE REFERENCES PAGES CHAPTER 1 11 Matt. 3:1-6 12 Luke 3:10-16 12 Matt. 3:7-10 13 Matt. 3:13 CHAPTER 2 21, 22 Luke 10:25 22 Luke 17:20, 21 22 Matt. 5:38-48 23 Matt. 13:31-33 23 Luke 5:4-11 CHAPTER 3 32 Mark 1:23-27 CHAPTER 4 35 Matt. 11:28 37-39 Mark 10:17-31 40 Luke 18:9-14 41-43 Luke 4:16-30 CHAPTER 5 46, 47 Luke 13:10-17 49 Matt. 10:34 49 Mark 6:17 50 John 3:30 51, 52 Mark 2:1-12 CHAPTER 6 55 Matt. 7:1-5 57, 58 Luke 7:36 57 Mark 2:17 57 Luke 5:32 60 Mark 2:18-22 60 Matt. 11:16-19 60 Matt. 23:23, 24 61 Mark 2:23-28 62, 63 Mark 3:1-6 CHAPTER 7 65-67 Matt. 10:1-23 67 Mark 3:21 68 Mark 3:22-27 69 Matt. 12:24-32 69 Luke 11:27, 28 70 Mark 3:31-35 71 Luke 11:5-10 71, 72 Luke 18:1-8 72 Matt. 6:9-15 72 Matt. 18:21, 22 CHAPTER 8 74, 75 Matt. 11:2-15 77-79 Mark 5:21-43 CHAPTER 9 81 Mark 6:14-16 82, 83 Mark 4:13-20 84, 85 Mark 6:34 84, 85 John 6:1-15 86, 87 Mark 6:45-52 CHAPTER 10 92 Mark 7:1-23 92, 93 Mark 12:38-40 93 Matt. 15:14 95 John 14:1 95 John 3:17-19 96, 97 Mark 8:14-21 98 Matt. 15:21-28 100, 101 Mark 8:27-30 100, 101 John 6:66-68 CHAPTER 11 102 Matt. 16:17-20 103 Mark 8:31-38 104, 105 Luke 4:1-13 107 Matt. 16:25 109-112 Mark 9:14-29 CHAPTER 12 113, 114 Mark 9:2-10 115-119 Mark 9:33-37 120, 121 Mark 9:38-41 121 Mark 9:31, 32 CHAPTER 13 126 Luke 13:31-33 127 Luke 10:1-12 128 Luke 9:57, 58 128 Luke 10:17-21 129 Luke 9:51-56 129 Luke 10:13-15 CHAPTER 14 133, 134 Luke 17:11-19 136 Mark 10:46-52 137 Luke 19:1-10 139, 140 Mark 11:1-11 CHAPTER 15 142 Luke 13:6-9 145 Mark 11:15-17 145 John 2:13-16 147, 148 Mark 11:27-33 148 Mark 12:1-9 149 Mark 12:13-17 149 Mark 12:28-34 150, 151 Luke 22:3-6 CHAPTER 16 156, 157 Mark 13:1, 2, 9-23 157, 158 Matt. 23:25-36 158 Mark 14:12-16 159 John 13:1-17 160 Mark 14:17-21 160 Matt. 26:31-35 160 Matt. 11:25 160, 161 Matt. 26:26-29 162 Mark 14:32-42 163 Mark 14:43-50 CHAPTER 17 167-169 Mark 14:53-72 169 Luke 22:61 170 Luke 23:13-16 171 Luke 23:18-25 171 John 18:38 to 19:16 CHAPTER 18 173-176 Luke 24:13-35 178 Luke 24:36-43 178 Acts 1:6 179 Matt. 28:18-20 179 Luke 24:46-48 180-182 Acts 3:1 to 4:4 
21496	----	PROBLEMS OF IMMANENCE STUDIES CRITICAL AND CONSTRUCTIVE BY J. WARSCHAUER, M.A., D.Phil. AUTHOR OF "THE NEW EVANGEL," "JESUS: SEVEN QUESTIONS," ETC. "SEE THAT THERE IS NO ONE WHO MAKES YOU HIS PREY BY MEANS OF HIS THEOSOPHY, WHICH IS A VAIN DECEIT AFTER THE TRADITIONS OF MEN, AFTER THE ELEMENTS OF THE WORLD AND NOT AFTER CHRIST." _Col. ii. 8._ (_Dr. Moffatt's Translation._) LONDON JAMES CLARKE & CO. 13 & 14 FLEET STREET 1909 [Transcriber's note: Page numbers in this book are indicated by numbers enclosed in curly braces, e.g. {99}. They have been located where page breaks occurred in the original book, in accordance with Project Gutenberg's FAQ-V-99.] {5} PREFACE About a year ago certain tendencies in the popular discussion of the doctrine of Divine Immanence suggested to the present writer the idea of a brief sketch or article, to be published under the title, "The Truth of Transcendence." On further reflection, however, a somewhat more extended treatment of so important a subject seemed desirable, and this has been attempted in the following chapters. When the doctrine of immanence began, as it has been of late, to be reasserted in a somewhat pronounced manner, most of those who were best able to judge felt conscious of certain dangers likely to arise through misinterpretation and over-emphasis; that those anticipations have been abundantly realised, no careful student of recent developments will dispute, and the present book is intended both to call attention to these dangers and to bring out the distinction between the truth of immanence and what to the author seem perversions of that truth. In the meantime, while these pages were passing through the press, there has appeared a new work from the brilliant pen of Professor William James,[1] some sentences from which might to a large extent be taken as indicating {6} the standpoint of the volume now submitted to the reader:-- "God," in the religious life of ordinary men is the name not of the whole of things, heaven forbid, but only of the ideal tendency in things, believed in as a superhuman person who calls us to co-operate in His purposes, and who furthers ours if they are worthy. He works in an external environment, has limits, and has enemies. When John Mill said that the notion of God's omnipotence must be given up, if God is to be kept as a religious object, he was surely accurately right; yet, so prevalent is the lazy Monism that idly haunts the regions of God's name, that so simple and truthful a saying was generally treated as a paradox; God, it was said, _could_ not be finite. I believe that the only God worthy of the name _must_ be finite. It is precisely the theory which identifies God with "the whole of things" which will be combated in the following discussions; it is precisely "the lazy Monism that idly haunts the regions of God's name" to which they offer a plain and direct challenge. At the same time such a phrase as that in which Professor James speaks of God as working "in an external environment" would seem unduly to under-emphasise the fact of immanence; and it may be said at once that the theory of Divine finitude put forward by the present writer will be seen to differ from that of John Stuart Mill, as the idea of _self_-limitation differs from that of a limitation _ab extra_--in other words, as Theism differs from Deism. It is perhaps a little remarkable that the fundamental antinomies which arise from the assumption of the actual infinity of God should not have been more frequently dealt with; or rather, that thinkers postulating that infinity {7} as a basal axiom should have been comparatively blind to its logical implications. For if God is infinite, then He is all; and if He is all, what becomes of human individuality, or how are human initiative and responsibility so much as thinkable? Benjamin Jowett, in his Essay on Predestination and Freewill, glanced at this problem in passing, and the remarks he made upon it more than fifty years ago, if somewhat tentative, are well worth consideration to-day:-- "God is infinite." But in what sense? . . . Press the idea of the infinite to its utmost extent, till it is alone in the universe, or rather is the universe itself, in this heaven of abstraction, nevertheless, a cloud begins to appear; a limitation casts its shadow over the formless void. Infinite is finite because it is infinite. That is to say, because infinity includes all things, it is incapable of creating what is external to itself. Deny infinity in this sense, and the being to whom it is attributed receives a new power. _God is greater by being finite than by being infinite_ . . . Logic must admit that the infinite over-reaches itself by denying the existence of the finite, and that there are some "limitations," such as the impossibility of evil or falsehood, which are of the essence of the Divine nature.[2] Where, of course, Divine immanence is held to mean the "allness"--which is the strict equivalent of the infinity--of God, evil in every shape and form will either have to be ascribed to the direct will and agency of God Himself, or for apologetic purposes to be reduced to a mere semblance, or "not-being." Thus we are told to-day in plain terms that "if God does not avert evil, it is because He requires it"; {8} that "what to us seems evil is ordained of God"; that-- "If prayers and earthquakes break not Heaven's design, How then a Borgia or a Catiline?" But if evil be only apparent and not real, we shall surely, having gained this insight, be too wise to waste indignation upon the non-existent; if what we call misdeeds in reality fulfil God's own "requirements," a thoroughly enlightened public opinion will not seek to interfere with the sacred activities of the pick-pocket, the forger, the sweater, the _roué_, every one of whom may plead that he is but carrying out the Divine ordinances; if Alexander Borgia's perjuries, poisonings and debaucheries "break not Heaven's design," but are "ordained of God for some purpose," morality itself becomes an exploded anachronism. It is because these and such as these are the results in the fields of religion and conduct which flow from certain errors in the field of speculation, that these chapters have been written, and are now sent forth. Belief in a personal God, personal freedom, personal immortality--these essentials of religion are one and all endangered where the doctrine of Divine immanence is presented in terms of a monistic philosophy; it has been the writer's object to safeguard and vindicate these truths anew in a volume which, though of necessity largely critical in method, he offers as wholly constructive in aim. August 1st, 1909. [1] _A Pluralistic Universe._ [2] _Thessalonians, Galatians and Romans_, vol. ii. pp. 388-9. CONTENTS CHAPTER PAGE INTRODUCTION: DIVINE IMMANENCE . . . . . . . . . . 11 I. SOME PROBLEMS OF IMMANENCE . . . . . . . . . . . . 23 II. PANTHEISM: THE SUICIDE OF RELIGION . . . . . . . . 41 III. THE ETHICS OF MONISM . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 53 IV. MONISM AND THE INDIVIDUAL . . . . . . . . . . . . . 64 V. THE DIVINE PERSONALITY . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 74 VI. EVIL _versus_ DIVINE GOODNESS . . . . . . . . . . . 87 VII. EVIL _versus_ DIVINE GOODNESS (_cont._) . . . . . . 101 VIII. THE DENIAL OF EVIL . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 119 IX. DETERMINISM . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 141 X. MORALITY AS A RELIGION . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 171 XI. PROBLEMS OF PRAYER . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 192 XII. IMMORTALITY . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 218 {11} INTRODUCTION DIVINE IMMANENCE The doctrine of Divine immanence is in a very special and unmistakeable manner the re-discovery of the nineteenth century. Nothing could be more remote from fact than to call that doctrine a new--or even an old--heresy. Old it certainly is, but heretical in itself it as certainly is not; it can point to unquestionable warranty in Holy Scripture, where such is demanded, and it has never been repudiated by the Christian Church. But just as a law, without being repealed, may fall into desuetude, so a doctrine, without being repudiated, may for a time fade out of the Church's consciousness; and in the one case as in the other any attempt at revival will arouse a certain amount of distrust and opposition. There would no doubt be a measure of truth in the statement that the suspicion and antagonism with which the recent re-enunciation of this particular doctrine or idea was attended in some quarters, exemplified this general attitude of the human mind towards the unaccustomed; and yet such a statement, made without qualification, {12} would be only a half-truth. The fact is, and it cannot be stated too soon or too clearly, that if the antagonism and suspicion exhibited have been exceptionally strong, there have been exceptional causes to justify both. Alarm, and that of a very legitimate nature, has been called forth by one-sided and extravagant statements of the idea of Divine immanence on the part of ill-balanced advocates; and in this book we shall be almost continually occupied with the task of disengaging the truth of immanence from what appear to us mischievous travesties of that truth. That such a task is a necessary one, we are firmly convinced; for if, as Principal Adeney says, "among all the changes in theology that have been witnessed during the last hundred years this"--_i.e._, the re-discovery of the principle of Divine immanence--"is the greatest, the most revolutionary," it must certainly be of paramount importance that we should understand and apply that principle aright. Confessedly, it denotes a great and far-reaching change; can we, then, in the first instance, briefly and plainly state what this change is from, what it involves, and in what respect it is supposed to help us in dealing with the problem of religion? It has to be borne in mind, to begin with, that the very term "immanence" had for a long time ceased to be in current use, and had thus become strange to the average believer; it has equally to be remembered that in theology as {13} in other matters we have not yet altogether passed the stage where _hostis_ means both "stranger" and "foe"--that, in fact, to many minds, the unfamiliar is, as we said, _eo ipso_ the suspect. But immanence means nothing more abstruse than "indwelling"; and the renewed emphasis which, from the time of Wordsworth onward, began to be laid upon the Divine indwelling, the presence of God in the Universe, represented in the first place the reaction of the human spirit against the cold and formal Deism of the eighteenth century, which thought of God as remote, external to the world, exclusively "transcendent." According to the deistic notion, God was known to man only by reason of a revelation He had given once and for all in the far-off past--a revelation which in its very nature excluded the idea of progress; as against this conception that of the immanence of God declares that He is not far from each one of us, that in Him we live and move and have our being, that He is over all and through all and in all--the Life of all life, the Energy behind all phenomena, the Presence from which there is no escaping, unceasingly and progressively--though by divers portions and in divers manners--revealed in the universe, in nature and in man. Thus expressed, the doctrine of God's nearness and indwelling will probably commend itself to most thoughtful religious people; but in {14} re-emphasising an aspect of truth there is always the danger of over-emphasising it, of claiming it as the whole and sole truth--of falling, in a word, from one extreme into the other. To that rule the present case offers no exception; it is, on the contrary, very distinctly one of the pendulum swinging as far in one direction as it previously swung to the other. Let us then at once state the thesis which many of the following pages will serve to elaborate: when the _indwelling_ of God in the universe is interpreted as meaning His _identity_ with the universe; when the _indwelling_ of God in man is taken to mean His _identity_ with man, the whole structure of religion is gravely imperilled. For in the identity of God with the world and with man--which is the root-tenet of Pantheism--there is inevitably involved the surrender of both the Divine and the human personality. We shall have occasion to see how much such a surrender signifies; for the moment it suffices to say plainly that Pantheism, the doctrine which denies the transcendence of God, is by no means the same as that which affirms His immanence, nor does it logically follow from that affirmation. The mistake so frequently made lies in regarding the Divine immanence and the Divine transcendence as mutually exclusive alternatives, whereas they are complementary to one another. A one-sided insistence on the immanence of God, to the exclusion of His transcendence, leads to {15} Pantheism, just as a one-sided insistence upon His transcendence, to the exclusion of His immanence, leads to Deism; it is the two taken together that result in, and are necessary to, Theism. Thus it cannot be too well understood, and it should be understood at the very outset, that we have not to make anything like a choice between immanence and transcendence--that these two can never be separated, but are related to each other as the less to the greater, as the part to the whole. One naturally shrinks from employing a diagram in dealing with such a topic as this; but perhaps recourse might without offence be had to this method--necessarily imperfect as it is--on account of its essential simplicity, and because it is calculated to remove misapprehensions. If we can think of a very large sphere, _A_, and, situated anywhere _within_ this, of a very small sphere, _a_--then the relation of the smaller to the greater will be that of the sphere of immanence to the sphere of transcendence. The two are not mutually separable, but the one has its being wholly within the other. Nevertheless it is quite true that there has been within recent years a distinct shifting of the centre of gravity from the one doctrine to the other, a growing disposition to regard the immanence of God as the fundamental datum, the basis of the modern restatement of religious belief. How will this conception help us to {16} such an end? The answer to that question may be given in the words of Dr. Horton, who says, "The intellectual background of our time is Agnosticism, and _the reply which faith makes to Agnosticism is couched in terms of the immanence of God_." [1] Dr. Horton's meaning will grow clearer to us if we once more glance at our imaginary diagram, letting the smaller figure _a_, the sphere of immanence, stand for our universe. If the sphere of God's being lay altogether outside the universe, _i.e._, outside the radius of our knowledge--if He, in other words, were merely and altogether transcendent--He would also be merely and altogether unknowable, exactly as Agnosticism avers. His transcendent attributes, all that partakes of infinity, cannot--and that of necessity--become objects of immediate knowledge to finite minds; if He is to be known at all to us, He can only be so known by being manifested through His presence within, or action upon, the finite and comprehensible sphere. In other words, _it is primarily as He is revealed in and through the finite world, that is to say as immanent, that God becomes knowable to us_; all that is included under His transcendence is of the very highest importance for us--religion would be utterly incomplete without it--but it is an inference we make from His immanence. It is, to give an obvious illustration, only to a transcendent God that we can offer prayer--God {17} over all whom the soul needs, to enter into relations withal; but it is also true that we gain the assurance of His transcendence through His immanence, and that The God without he findeth not, Who finds Him not within. In a word, the Divine immanence is not the goal of our quest of God, but it is the indispensable starting-point. A simple reflection will serve to place this beyond doubt. Against the old-fashioned Deism which continued to bear sway till far into the last century, the agnostic had an almost fatally easy case; he had but to reject the revelation alleged to have been given once for all in the dim past--to reject it on scientific or critical grounds--and who was to prove to him that the universe had been created a few thousand years ago by a remote and external Deity? As for him, he professed, and professed candidly enough, that he could see nothing in nature but the operation of impersonal forces; there was natural law, and there was the process of evolution, but beyond these----? Now the only really telling reply that can be made to those who argue in this fashion is that which reasons from the Divine immanence as its _terminus a quo_--the doctrine which beholds God first of all present and active _in_ the world, and sees in natural law not a possible substitute for Him, but the working of His sovereign Will. From this point of view, the orderliness of the cosmos, {18} the uniformity and regularity of nature, attest not the unconscious throbbing of a soulless engine, or a blind Power behind phenomena, but a directing Mind, a prevailing Will. The world, according to this conception, was not "made" once upon a time, like a piece of clockwork, and wound up to run without further assistance; it is not a mechanism, but an organism, thrilled and pervaded by an eternal Energy that "worketh even until now." In Sir Oliver Lodge's phrase, we must look for the action of Deity, if at all, then always; and this thought of the indwelling God, revealing Himself in the majestic course and order of nature, not only rebuts the assaults of Agnosticism, but compels our worship. And as natural law speaks to us of the steadfastness and prevailing power of the Divine Will, so evolution speaks of the Divine Purpose, and proclaims that purpose "somehow good," since evolution means a steady reaching forward and upward, an unfolding and ascent from less to more. We take a step higher up when we come to the further revelation of God as seen dwelling in man; a step higher up because on any sane view immanence is a fact admitting of very various degrees, so that God is more fully revealed in the organic than in the inorganic world, more in the conscious than in the unconscious, far more in man than in lower creatures. We speak of God's indwelling in man in the {19} same sense in which there is something of an earthly parent's very being in his children; indeed, rightly considered, the Divine Parenthood is the only rational guarantee of that human brotherhood which is being so strongly--or, at least, so loudly--insisted on to-day. Man, that is to say, is not identical with God, any more than a son is identical with his father; but man is consubstantial, homogeneous, with God, lit by a Divine spark within him, a partaker of the Divine substance. As in nature we discern God revealed as Power, Mind, Will, Purpose, so in man's moral nature, and his inner satisfaction or dissatisfaction according as he does or does not approach a certain moral standard, we discern Him as Righteousness; and, more than all, since men, beings in whom "the Spirit of God dwelleth," are persons, it follows that God also is at least personal, since there can be nothing in an effect that is not in the cause producing it. Thus the doctrine of Divine immanence throws at least a ray of light upon one of the problems which press with peculiar weight upon many modern minds--and which we shall consider at greater length hereafter--_viz._, the Divine Personality. There remains, however, a still further step to be taken along the line which we have been pursuing. We are not fully satisfied when we know God even as personal, even as righteous; the assurance which alone will satisfy the awakened human spirit is that which tells us {20} that God is Love, and that His truest name is that of Father. How could such a culminating assurance come to us? We conceive that this end could only be achieved through a complete manifestation of the Divine character on a finite scale, _i.e._, through His indwelling in an unparalleled measure in a unique and ethically perfect being; and such an event, we hold, has actually taken place in what is known as the Incarnation. In the words of Dr. Horton, "the doctrine of the immanence of God, the idea that God is in us all, leads us irresistibly to the conclusion that 'God was in Christ, reconciling the world unto Himself.'" "This argument," he says--_viz._, from Divine immanence--"becomes more and more favourable to the doctrine of Christ's Divinity." [2] The highest and truest knowledge of God, that which it most concerns us to possess, could have become ours only through One in whom the fulness of Godhead dwelt bodily, in whom we saw Divinity in its essence and without alloy. To bring us this perfect revelation was, indeed, the very reason of Christ's advent. We come to the Father through the Son, because there is no other Way. We have seen the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ, the very Image of His Substance. Divine Love, mighty to save, full of redemptive power, longing for the soul with infinite affection--in fine, Fatherhood--this is what constitutes {21} religion's ultimate; and this revelation we have in the Incarnate Son, in whom the Spirit dwelt without measure--who, _i.e._, stands forth as the supreme and unparalleled illustration of the Divine immanence. Here, then, we have a first, preliminary survey of the meaning of this much-discussed, much-misunderstood term--a mere outline sketch which, needless to say, requires a great deal of filling in, such as will be attempted in subsequent pages of this book. So much should be clear from what has been said, that the nineteenth century, in practically restoring this fruitful and far-reaching conception to a Church which had largely forgotten it, made a contribution of the utmost importance to theology and religion; indeed, the value of that contribution could hardly be more strongly stated than in the utterances of Dr. Horton which we have quoted above. Such a factor, however, cannot be introduced, or re-introduced, into our theological thinking without necessitating a good deal of revision, nor without causing a certain measure of temporary confusion and dislocation; it will accordingly be the principal object of the following chapters to clear up misapprehensions which have arisen in connection with the idea of immanence, to assign to it its approximately proper place in Christian thought, and to safeguard an important truth against the injury done to it--and {22} so to all truth--by a zeal that is not according to knowledge. _Corruptio optimi pessima_: in unskilled hands this doctrine is certainly apt to become a danger to religion itself; nevertheless, rightly applied, there is probably no more potent instrument than this to help us in that reconstruction of belief which is admittedly the urgent business of our age. It is true, as Raymond Brucker said, that "the answer to the riddle of the universe is God--the answer to the riddle of God is Christ"; but it is also true, we hold, that the most effective key for the unlocking of the riddle is the idea of Divine immanence. [1] _My Belief_, p. 107. [2] _Op. cit._; pp. 108, 109. {23} CHAPTER I SOME PROBLEMS OF IMMANENCE It used to be said of a famous volume of apologetics--with what justification this is not the place to discuss--that it raised more difficulties than it professed to settle; and a somewhat similar charge has more than once been brought against the doctrine of Divine immanence, _viz._, that if it succeeded in throwing light upon some problems, it created new ones of a particularly insoluble character. The old deistic notion which interposed a distance between the Creator and His creation, and in particular represented God as _there_ and man as _here_, might be untenable in philosophy, but it was at least intelligible and practically helpful to ordinary minds; but does not the idea of God's immanence in the world and in man tend to efface that distinction, and thus to introduce confusion where confusion is least to be desired? In the present chapter we shall attempt to glance at some of the main questions which arise in connection with this doctrine; and, to begin with, we may state with the utmost frankness that nothing is easier than to interpret the {24} conception of Divine immanence in such a manner as to make it appear either ludicrous or hateful or simply meaningless--in any case repulsive from the religious point of view. This, to come straight to the point, is what is bound to happen when God's indwelling in man is explained as meaning that man is _de facto_ one with his Maker. What could the general reader think when he was told with vehemence, "You are yourself the infinite"--"You are yourself God; you never were anything else"? If that reader was lacking in mental balance, he was likely to be swept off his feet by such a declaration, and to accept, with all its implications, a view so flattering to human vanity; if, on the other hand, he was a person of soberly religious outlook and experience, he inquired what was the doctrine in whose name such a proposition was offered to him for acceptance--and on learning that the name of that doctrine was the unfamiliar one of "immanence," straightway set it down as the worst of brain-sick heresies. Thus, not for the first time, has a cause or truth been wounded and discredited by injudicious advocacy. For the purpose which we have in view we cannot do better than state what we consider the fundamental misinterpretation of this doctrine in the considered words of one of its most popular exponents, who expresses it as follows: "God _in_ man is God _as_ man. _There is no real Divine Immanence which does not imply the {25} allness of God._" [1] It is not too much to say that this brief statement contains the _fons et origo_ of all the misunderstandings with which the re-enunciation of this idea has been attended; it is this assumption of the allness of God which underlies and colours quite a number of modern movements, and will be seen to lead those who accept it into endless and inextricable tangles. If God is all, _then what are we_? Granted the basal axiom of this type of immanentism, it follows with irresistible cogency that our separate existence, consciousness, volitions and so forth are merely illusions. We can be "ourselves God" only in the sense that we are individually nothing; the contrary impression is simply an error, which we shall have to recognise as such, and to get rid of with what speed and thoroughness we can. This, it is true, is more easily said than done, for our whole life both of thought and action bears incessant witness to the opposite; there are, however, those to whose temperament such a complete contradiction, so far from being distressing, is positively grateful because of its suggestion of mystery and mysticism. Sometimes a Tertullian voices this abdication of the reasoning faculty defiantly--_certum est quia impossibile est_; but more often perhaps the same position {26} is expressed in the spirit of Tennyson's well-known lines, which, indeed, bear directly upon our immediate theme:-- We feel we are nothing--for all is Thou and in Thee; We feel we are something--_that_ also has come from Thee; We know we are nothing--but Thou wilt help us to be. We submit, however, that while such a contemplation of, or oscillation between, mutually destructive tenets may for a time minister to some kind of aesthetic enjoyment, the healthy mind cannot permanently find satisfaction while thus suspended in mid-air; nor are we appreciably advanced by the temper which, after pointing out some alleged fundamental antinomy, "quietly accepts"--_i.e._, in practice ignores--it. Problems of this description are not solved by what Matthew Arnold called a want of intellectual seriousness; is it true, we ask, that the "mystical view of the Divine immanence" compels us to believe in the allness of God, and so to deny our individual existence? The answer is that this _soi-disant_ "mystical view" is simply a distorted view of what immanence means. We are not really called upon to do violence to the collective facts of our experience, which rise up in unanimous and spontaneous testimony against the monstrous fiction that we are either nothing or God. The fallacy upon which this fiction rests is not a {27} very subtle one. When we speak of God's indwelling in man, we predicate that community of nature which the writer of Gen. ii expresses by saying that God created man in His own image; we predicate, _i.e._, what we already called homogeneity--likeness of substance--and not identity, which is a very different thing. We do not commit ourselves to the proposition that "God _in_ man is God _as_ man." Parent and child are linked together by a precisely analogous bond to that subsisting between God and man, but they are nevertheless distinct individualities. "But," it will be objected, "the analogy does not hold, for parent and child are both finite; how can a similar separateness be so much as thought to exist between God and man, seeing that God is infinite?" It will be seen that the objection merely restates the allness of God under a different form; and this brings us to the very heart of the matter. We must at length face the one conclusion which does not land us in self-contradiction--_viz._, that _in the act of creation God limits His own infinity_, no matter to how infinitesimal an extent. On the alternative supposition we have ultimately to think of God and man either as All _plus_ something or All _plus_ zero--which is absurd. Mr. Chesterton has rendered useful service by insisting that in creating the world God distinguishes Himself from the world, as a poet is distinct from his poem--a truth which he has condensed into an aphorism, {28} "All creation is separation"; but on the part of the Deity such "separation" implies of necessity the self-limitation just spoken of. Just as a billion, _minus_ the billionth fraction of a unit, is no longer a billion, so infinity itself, limited though it be but by a hair's-breadth, is no longer, strictly speaking, infinite. Once we admit this Divine self-limitation as a working theory, we shall no longer be troubled by the unreal difficulty of having to reconcile the principle of Divine immanence with the fact of individual existence. The Divine spark may burn in man, brightly or dimly as the case may be, and yet be separate from the central and eternal Fire whence it has been flung forth; in other words, man may be a partaker of the Divine nature without being "himself God." If we are to be able to believe in either a universe or a humanity which, though the scene of Divine immanence, are not identical with God, it seems to us that such a view of creation as we have just propounded is inevitable; and unless this non-identity can be maintained--unless, that is to say, we definitely repudiate the idea of the "allness" of God--religion itself is reduced to a misty and ineffective theosophy. The issues involved in the acceptance or rejection of this view appear to us of such importance that, at the risk of seeming to labour our point unnecessarily, we are anxious to make it perfectly plain. In the phase through which {29} religious thought is passing to-day there are few things more urgently needed than to dispel that interpretation of immanence which obliterates the line of demarcation between God and man. We may decline the mechanical dualism which placed the Creator altogether outside the universe, and yet embrace a view which for want of a better name might be called spiritual dualism, and which maintains the distinction of which we are speaking. What happens when that distinction is lost, is sufficiently apparent from a statement like the following, actually addressed to a miscellaneous audience: "If there is an eternal throne, you are on it now; there has never been a moment when you were not on it." Such downright extravagance is most suitably met with a bald contradiction: man is _not_ on the eternal throne, and there has never been a moment when he was on it. It is this fact which makes worship so much as possible; it is, in short, the transcendent God with whom we are concerned in the exercise of religion, for as Mr. Chesterton puts it in his own manner, "that Jones shall worship the god within him turns out ultimately to mean that Jones shall worship Jones." Let us see what follows if we once seriously persuade ourselves that we are "on the eternal throne," or, to extract its meaning from that picturesque phrase, that the presence of God is already perfectly realised in us. We cannot but think we shall carry the reader {30} with us in saying that such a belief is in itself indicative of spiritual danger; indeed, there can hardly be a greater danger than that which is directly encouraged by the idea that we have already attained, and that all is well with us, seeing that we are one with the All-good. On such a supposition, why pray--for even were there One other than ourselves to pray to, what is there to pray for? Or, to quote the actual question of a believer in this kind of immanence, Why ask outside for a strength which we already possess? What a naïve question of this calibre reveals only too plainly is that self-complacency which is the most deadly foe of the spiritual life. One is reminded of the American story in which a bright and intelligent wife asks her cultured but indifferent husband, "Is it true that God is immanent in us all?" "I suppose so," he answers; "_but it does not greatly matter._" The question is, Do we already possess the strength for which we ask? Or rather, Does not the very fact that we ask for it prove that we do not possess it, and that He from whom we ask it is not ourselves? Is not the gift of the Holy Spirit, the Divine invasion of the soul, a fact of experience, and is it not also a fact that that gift is only to be had for the asking, only given in response to earnest and persevering prayer, and that it effects in those who receive it a change of thought and feeling? All these are facts resting on irrefragable evidence; the apparent problem is, to {31} harmonise them with the affirmation of the divinity existing in man. If God be truly "in us all," then in what sense or to what purpose can we pray for a consummation which, it will be urged, is _ex hypothesi_ an accomplished fact at the time that we ask for it? We reply that the Divine indwelling in man is of the nature of a capacity for striving rather than of an attainment, a potentiality rather than an actuality, a prophecy rather than a fulfilment. Man's longing for communion with God, as for an unrealised good, is the longing of like for Like, but it is only through struggle and effort that the goal can be reached. The Eternal is indeed the Life of all life, and to that extent it is true that all life expresses Him; nevertheless our original divine endowment is no more than the material which has to be shaped and wrought into "the type of perfect." Without this divinity of substance as it might be called, we should never have the finished product, divinity of character; but the latter can only be achieved through arduous and persevering endeavour. Without a genuinely divine element--without the Spirit breathed into man by his Creator--we could not even realise our failure, nor aspire after a fuller portion of that same life-giving Spirit; it is what we have that tells us of what we lack, and directs us to Him who alone can supply our want out of His inexhaustible fulness. And if we have thus found an answer to the question, "How, from the point of view of {32} Divine immanence, can there be anything but God?" we have at the same time received a hint indicating where we shall have to look for the answer to another query of even more directly practical interest, _viz._, "How, from the same point of view, can there be anything but _good_--how can there be any real evil, physical or moral?" Put in that extreme form, this problem, like the one with which we have just dealt, arises from the erroneous assertion of the allness of God; but as the whole subject of the reality of evil will come up for treatment at a later stage, we need not now enter into its discussion. At one aspect, and one only, of this vast and complex theme we may, however, be permitted to glance for a moment before we pass on. If God dwells in us, it is frequently asked, whence comes what Paul so pathetically calls "the law of sin which is in our members"--whence come the wrongful desires and harmful passions of whose power we are so painfully conscious? That is an entirely legitimate and even inevitable query, but the solution of the enigma is not past finding out, though we must content ourselves with a mere suggestion. We have, in the first place to keep our hold of the fact, disregarding all pleas to the contrary, that sin is a reality, and not a phantasm of our imagination; we shall then diagnose its nature as the misuse, the unfaithful administration, of the power which God has conferred upon us for employment in His holy service; and then, {33} lastly, we shall grow aware that the very pain, the sense of unhappiness and moral discord by which the consciousness of guilt is ever accompanied, is the protesting voice of that which is the deepest reality within ourselves--the indwelling Divine. But when we have shown that the doctrine of Divine immanence does not, as some of its advocates would have us believe, swallow up human individuality--a subject to which we shall return--we are faced with yet another difficulty. The question is asked--again, quite naturally and inevitably--In what sense can we speak of God as immanent in the inorganic world? How, _e.g._, does a stone embody or express His essence?--and yet, if it is not somehow a manifestation of Him, what is this cold, lifeless, ponderable substance we call a stone? Nor do matters grow simpler when we ascend in the scale: we may trace the immanent Deity in all that is good and fair in nature, in all its smiling and beneficent moods--but what of nature's uglinesses and cruelties? Is God expressing Himself in the ferocity of the tiger, the poisonous malice of the cobra, the greed of every unclean carrion-bird? If He is such as religion represents Him, how can He be present in these? We may quote with rapture the familiar lines in which the poet tells us:-- I have felt A presence that disturbs me with the joy Of elevated thoughts. . . {34} But the world which is the dwelling of that something "far more deeply interfused" of which Wordsworth sings, does not consist exclusively of the light of setting suns, And the round ocean, and the living air, And the blue sky. . . --it contains also dismal, fever-breeding swamps, dreadful deserts, dreary wastes of eternal ice, plunged into darkness half the year; are we going simply to ignore these realities when we speak of the Divine indwelling in the world? And, once more, shall we assert this doctrine when we remember the cold cunning of the spider, or the delight in torture displayed by the domestic cat? It depends, we answer, what we mean by "this doctrine"; if we construe immanence to signify "allness," we may as well admit first as last that there is no way of escape from the difficulties which these queries suggest. In that case it is not for us to pick and choose--to say that God is the beauty of the beautiful, but not the ugliness of the ugly; the compassion of the compassionate, but not the cruelty of the cruel: if He is _all_, He is _both_, and for that very reason is _neither_. That is the real inwardness of a conception of the Deity which represents Him, with Omar Khayyam, as One-- Whose secret Presence, through Creation's veins Running, Quicksilver-like eludes your pains; Taking all forms from Màh to Màhi; and They change and perish all--but He remains. {35} Such a doctrine can only mean that the Divine Substance, under a myriad-fold variety of appearances, is equally diffused through all creation, like the universal ether of science; and such a conception of the Eternal, whatever else it may be, ceases _ipso facto_ to be religiously helpful. The counterpart of the theoretical allness would be the practical nothingness of God.[2] But having quite definitely declined to place such a construction upon immanence, we are preserved from the absurdities which flow from it. We may and do hold that all the works of the Lord manifest Him in some manner and in some measure; but, as we already stated in our introductory chapter, not all do so in the same manner or the same measure, and not any of them nor all of them are He. To the specific inquiry, What, if not part of God, is this stone?--we can, indeed, only answer in the words of Tennyson that if we knew what the least object was in itself, we "should know what God and man is." But, dealing with the question more generally, we may say that what inorganic nature shows forth of the indwelling God is His prevailing Power and abiding Law; looking upon the works of Him who "stretcheth out the north over empty space, and hangeth the earth upon {36} nothing," we can but feel that awed admiration of His wisdom and might which is expressed over and over again in the Book of Job. And this impression deepens when we pass upward from the inorganic to the organic creation; for not only do we behold the entire vast spectacle thrilled through and through by one Life, but we are also enabled to discern something of the august Purpose which progressively realises itself in all the phases of the cosmic process. That the God revealed by the universe must transcend the universe in order to be in any real sense its Creator, is self-evident; but that it is His own Energy which pervades it, a present Power operating from within--in other words, that He is immanent in the world, as well as transcendent--is a thought from which we cannot legitimately escape. When we speak of the immanence of God in nature, therefore, we mean principally immanence of Power; and due weight should be given to this qualification, since its effect is to remove the obstacles we have enumerated above. For it ought to be plain, though in popular discussion it is constantly overlooked, that God cannot be _ethically_ present in the unethical, nor _personally_ present in the impersonal. And here, it seems to us, we go to the root of our present problem, _viz._, by re-emphasising what is indispensable to a right conception of this whole doctrine--that immanence is of necessity a matter of degrees. Nature is not moral, {37} and hence does not reveal God's moral character to us; nature is not personal, and therefore, while its operations point with irresistible cogency to personal directivity, does not show forth the Divine Personality as indwelling. As soon as we grasp this obvious truth, we shall be led to find the answer to that question which, as we saw, presents a stumbling-block to many minds, namely, in what sense it is permissible to affirm the Divine immanence in the animal world. How can God be in the denizens of the jungle, we ask, feeling that to make such an statement concerning Him is to empty the idea of God of all its meaning. Natural, however, as such reasoning is, reflection will show it to be faulty. To use a simple, if necessarily imperfect, illustration, something of man's own being is in all his organs, but not all that makes him man is in every one of them; certainly, his higher faculties are not displayed in the organs designed to fulfil the lower functions of the organism. To proceed to the obvious application--animals are not moral beings, but act, with the occasional exception of such of their number as have been humanised by contact with men, from instinct and not from conscious choice; and for that reason we are not called upon to reconcile the loving-kindness and tender mercy of God with the habits and general behaviour of the lower creation. In ascribing all sorts of moral qualities to animals we simply exhibit the same {38} tendency which leads children to endow lifeless objects both with life and purposiveness. Moral attributes, however, whether good or bad, presuppose conscious choice, a faculty of weighing and if necessary repelling motives; and with such a faculty we have no reason for crediting animals. No doubt, our incurable habit of reading the facts of our own moral nature into the actions of beasts and birds accounts for the vogue alike of Aesop's Fables and of such works as the _Jungle Books_; but what strikes us as cruelty in the tiger is not a moral quality at all, any more than it is a motive of heroism that impels the mongoose to fight cobras. The tiger and the cobra are no more deliberately "cruel" than they could be conceived as deliberately "benevolent"; they are below the ethical level, expressing no character at all, and least of all the character of God. But if God is immanent in the cosmos as its pervading and sustaining Power and Life; if He is immanent in man as that moral and spiritual principle which reaches out after fuller communion with the Most High: where shall we say that He Himself is _personally present_, since He is not so present either in nature or in man? And assuming that such a supreme and full revelation of God has been given in history, shall we not do well to distinguish in some manner between it and every lesser manifestation of immanence? Mr. W. L. Walker has admirably pointed out that while {39} God is personally present _to_ everything, and entirely absent from nothing, yet it is certainly false to imagine that He is "personally inside of everything." "Nothing can happen wholly apart from Him--He is in some measure in everything and being"; but where shall He Himself be found, where shall we look for His very fulness? "He cannot," says Mr. Walker--and we shall not attempt to better his words--"be personally present in anything, or in any being, till there is a being present in the world capable of containing and expressing Him in His essential truth; and that we do not have till we come to Jesus Christ." And thus we may perhaps claim to have shown, however briefly, in what direction we must look for the solution of our problem of universal immanence--a problem unnecessarily complicated by a plausible but false construction of that doctrine. We conclude that every portion of the cosmos, including our conscious selves, manifests so much, and such aspects, of God as it has the capacity to manifest--His Power, His Purpose, His moral Law, which vindicates its sanctity upon whosoever would violate it; but His own Essence, His Character, could be revealed only in One whose soul harboured no single element at variance with the Divine Goodness, One who could be described as "God manifest in the flesh"--even that unique Son whose oneness with the Father was {40} undimmed and unbroken by any diversity of will. It required the perfect Instrument to give forth the perfect Harmony. And here a final but important point arises. If the Incarnation of God in Christ is in one sense the highest example of Divine immanence--just as man represents the highest form of animal life--yet in another sense it transcends mere immanence just as truly as humanity transcends the animal creation. We leave this as a suggestion which the reader may develop for himself. So much is certain, that in Christ alone does the edifice of faith reach its culminating point--in Him our questionings receive their complete and final answer, because what we see in Him is not a stray hint or broken gleam, but the pure and quenchless light of God's own Presence. "_No man hath seen God at any time; the only begotten Son, which is in the bosom of the Father, He hath declared Him._" [1] The Rev. R. J. Campbell, M.A., in a paper on _Divine Immanence and Pantheism_. For the phrase and the Idea of the "allness of God" see also _Rudimental Divine_ (_i.e._ Christian) _Science_, by Mary Baker Eddy, p. 10. [2] We cannot forbear quoting two pungent lines of Mr. Hamish Hendry's, in which the outcome of such theosophising seems to be not altogether unjustly described as-- _A kind o' thowless Great First Cause,_ _Skinklin' thro' vapour._ {41} CHAPTER II PANTHEISM: THE SUICIDE OF RELIGION In speaking of Deism, the theory which explicitly denies the Divine immanence, we already had occasion to acknowledge that quality of intelligibleness which makes this doctrine easy of assimilation, and accounts, _e.g._, for the success of Islam, the deistic religion _par excellence_, as a propagandist creed. There is, however, another aspect of Deism, none the less real because it is not always recognised at first sight, which perhaps an illustration will serve to bring home to us. We all know what is likely to happen to an estate in the owner's prolonged or permanent absence--it deteriorates; his active interest and personal supervision are wanting, and the results are visible everywhere. Sloth and mismanagement, which his presence would check, go uncorrected, the daily duties are indifferently performed or remain undone, and soon the property as a whole bears unmistakeable traces of neglect. There is always the possibility of the master's return some day, when he will exact an account from his servants; but {42} the long interval which has elapsed since such a visit took place has deprived that mere possibility of any wholesome terror which it might inspire, so that matters drift steadily from bad to worse. Now, from the deistic point of view, the world may not unfairly be compared to such an estate. God is remote--He may look down upon the terrestrial scene from His far-off heaven, but He does not actively interfere, except by an occasional miracle, which is not the same as direct hour-by-hour superintendence: is it any wonder that the ground should bring forth weeds and brambles rather than flowers and fruit? Is it a wonder that this God-less world should be a dismal place and full of misery, and that human nature, left to itself, should have "no health" in it? It would be matter for wonder if it were otherwise; and thus Deism is well in accord with those gloomier forms of religious thought which for a long time were the generally predominating ones. The distance between this conception and that which flows from the doctrine of Divine immanence can hardly be measured; it certainly cannot be bridged. The soul to which, through whatever experience, there has come the revelation that God is closer to us than breathing, and nearer than hands or feet, looks out upon a new heaven and a new earth. Once it is understood that God is really and truly in His universe, that He is not infinitely far {43} and inaccessible but infinitely nigh, an encompassing Presence, a fresh light falls upon nature and human nature alike. Viewed in that light, and from the standpoint of this illuminating truth, "the world's no blot for us, nor blank," but the scene of Divine activity and unceasing revelation; for all nature's forces are seen to be the expression of the Divine Energy, and all nature's laws the manifestation of the Divine Will. If God Himself is the Life that stirs within all life, the Reality underlying all phenomena--if we live and move and have our being in Him, and His Spirit dwelleth within us--the direct outcome of such a belief should be a sacred optimism, an assurance that the cosmos "means intensely, and means good." There can, we think, be little doubt as to the beneficial effects which have accompanied the re-affirmation of this idea in recent times. It is only too true as yet, in the case of many, that "the past, which still holds its ground in the back chambers of the brain, would persuade us that 'tis a demon-haunted world, where not God but the devil rules; we are not yet persuaded that this is a cheerful, homely, well-meaning universe, whose powers, if strict in their working, are nevertheless beneficent and not diabolic." Against these phantasmal fears the doctrine of God's immanence, rightly understood, offers the best of antidotes, and here lies its unquestionable value. At the same time it has already become apparent {44} to us that the suddenness of the stress laid upon that idea has brought new dangers in its train. The temptation is ever to swing round from one extreme to its opposite; and in the present case not a few have carried--or been carried by--the reaction against the belief in God's remoteness so far as to forget, in contemplating the truth that He is "through all and in all," the complementary and equally necessary truth that He is also God over all. Because something of His Mind and Will is expressed by the universe, they not only, as we saw in the previous chapter, conclude that the universe is identical with Him, but that He is no other than the universe which reveals Him. "All is God, and God is All," they exclaim, adding the doctrine of the Godness of all to that of the allness of God; the universe, in their view, is the one Divine and Eternal Being of which everything, including ourselves, is only a phase or partial manifestation; as it is the Divine life which pulses through us, so it is the Divine consciousness which our consciousness expresses, the Divine nature which acts through ours. Here we are face to face with Pantheism full-grown: let us see what is involved in its assumptions, and why the Christian Church must resolutely refuse to make terms with this teaching. No one would deny that the pantheistic theory, which identifies God with the universe and ourselves with God, has its fascination and {45} glamour--a fascination which is not ignoble on the face of it. The modern founder of Pantheism, Benedict Spinoza, was a man of pure and saintly character, a gentle recluse from the world, lovable and blameless. Nevertheless, we have no hesitation in avowing our belief that the glamour of Pantheism is utterly deceptive; that those who set foot on this inclined plane will find themselves unable--in direct proportion to their mental integrity--to resist conclusions which mean the practical dissolution of religion, in any intelligible sense of that word; and that in the present transitional state of religious opinion it is particularly necessary that the truth about Pantheism should be clearly stated. The test of a theory is not whether it looks symmetrical and self-consistent in the seclusion of the study, but whether it works. If it fails in actual life, it fails altogether; and the one fatal objection to this particular system is that it does not work. Nothing could be more significant than the admission of so representative an exponent of Pantheism as Mr. Allanson Picton, who tells us that one, if not more, of Spinoza's fundamental conceptions "have increasingly repelled rather than attracted religious people." [1] It is the object of the present chapter to show why this must be the case, wherever the implications of his teaching are understood. {46} Pantheism declares--it practically begins and ends with the declaration--that the universe is God, and that God is the totality of being. Now, try as we will, such a conception can never take the place of the thought of God as our Father, and that for the simple reason that the universe is not even what we mean by personal. As Schopenhauer shrewdly remarked, "To call the universe 'God' is not to explain it, but merely to burden language with a superfluous synonym for the word 'universe.' Whether one says 'the universe is God' or 'the universe is the universe' makes no difference." It is when people no longer know what to do with a Deity, he continues, that they transfer His part to the universe--"which is, properly speaking, only a decent way of getting rid of Him." [2] A totality of being is not the same as a personal God, but the very contrary. Nor is it any consolation to be told that this totality, though not personal, is "super-personal." Such a super-personal Absolute or Whole, to quote Dr. Ballard's penetrating criticism, "is devoid of just those elements which for human experience constitute personality. To our power of vision it matters nothing whether we say that the ultra-violet rays of the spectrum are super-visible or invisible. The pertinent truth is that they are not visible. So, too, that which is not 'merely' personal is not really personal. {47} If the Absolute of philosophy be the super-personal, it is not, in plain truth, personal at all." [3] Now, a God who is not what we mean by personal can be of no help to us in our religious life. When a congregation of modern worshippers is appealed to in these terms--"Do not, I beseech you, think of God any more as a personal being like yourself, though immeasurably greater"--they are really being asked to commit spiritual suicide. For we cannot hold communion except with a person; we cannot pray to the universe. We can neither give thanks to the universe, nor supplicate it, nor confess to it, nor intercede with it. But a God to whom we cannot pray, with whom we cannot enter into communion, is for all practical purposes no God at all. The only God with whom we can stand in personal, conscious, spiritual relationship must be one who is not identical with the universe, but One in whom, on the contrary, the universe has its being. It is the transcendent God with whom we have to deal in religion; such a God Pantheism does not acknowledge. But not only is the universe not personal; this god of Pantheism is not ethical either. This "totality" is neither good nor bad, but made up indifferently of all manner of components, and according to Pantheism all of them--the evil as much as the good--are {48} necessary to the perfection of the whole. Thus the pantheist's god has no moral complexion, and such a god is of no use to us. So far as religion is concerned, he--or it--might just as well be non-existent as non-moral. The only Deity whom we can _worship_ is One who stands above the world's confusion, its Moral Governor and Righteous Judge. But Pantheism identifies not only God with the universe, but ourselves with God. Now if this view is accepted, if there is no real dividing line between man and God, then we can only once more point out that we have no personality either; we are mere fragmentary expressions of God's life, without selfhood or self-determination, no more responsible for our acts than a violin for the tune that is played on it. Mr. Picton, speaking with authority, tells us that "to the true pantheist" man is "but a finite mode of infinite Being"; that human personality is only "seeming" [4] and that, from the pantheistic standpoint, the self must be "content to be nothing." That is to say that the consistent pantheist must be a consistent determinist. Logical Pantheism rules out the possibility of sin against man or God--"for who withstandeth His will," seeing that He is the only real Existence? Let a further quotation make this plain. "What," asks Mr. Picton, "are we to say of bad men, the vile, the base, the liar, the murderer? Are they {49} also in God and of God? . . . _Yes, they are_." [5] And this amazing conclusion--amazing, though involved in his fundamental outlook--is sought to be defended on the ground that we have "no adequate idea" "of the part played by bad men in the Divine Whole"! In other words, the pantheist god expresses himself in a St. Francis, but he also does so in a King Leopold; he is manifested in General Booth and in Alexander Borgia; Jesus Christ is a phase of his being, and so is Judas Iscariot. A sentimental Pantheism may say that God is that in a hero which nerves him to heroism, and that in a mother which prompts her self-sacrifice for her children, for there is none else. But that is only one-half of the truth; arguing from the same premises, we must also say that God is that in the sinner which succumbs to sin, and in the wrong-doer that which takes pleasure in wrong, for there is none else. Once we rub out the distinction between God and man, we rub out all _moral_ distinctions as well. If we are not other than He is, how can we act other than He wills? If we hold that the soul is only "a finite mode of God's infinite attribute of thought," part of "the necessary expression of the infinite attributes of eternal Being," the sense of sin can be no more than an illusion. Or shall we be told that, whatever a man's theoretical Determinism, in practice he will {50} always be conscious of his freedom? The answer is, Yes, perhaps, provided his moral instincts are sound; but the average mortal, when he has to choose between the hard duty and the easy indulgence, will be sorely tempted to find a reason for yielding in his determinist philosophy. And is a doctrine likely to be true which, the moment it is seriously applied, undermines the very foundation of morality, and of which the best that can be said is that people do not consistently apply it? M. Bourget's _Le Disciple_ is not a book for everyone; but in it the distinguished author has drawn an instructive picture of the effect of Determinism as a theory upon a self-indulgent man's practice. As Mr. Baring-Gould aptly says, "Human nature is ever prone to find an excuse for getting the shoulder from under the yoke." Pantheism, as a matter of fact, whichever way we travel, is ultimately compelled to deny the qualitative distinction between good and evil, declaring both to be equally necessary, and thus arrives once more at its conception of a Deity who, though said to be "perfect"--presumably in some "super-moral" sense--is not good, and hence cannot be a possible object of worship for us. How little the pantheist's God can mean to us will be understood when it is stated that, according to Spinoza, man "cannot strive to have God's love to him." [6] Indeed, how could the universe "love" one of {51} its mere passing phases? Is it a wonder that this cheerless creed has "increasingly repelled rather than attracted religious people" when once they have understood its inwardness? We ask for bread and receive--a nebula; we call for our Father, and are told to content ourselves with a totality of being! And when Pantheism has thus despoiled us of our religious possessions one by one, so far as this life is concerned, what is its message concerning the future? This, that when we die there is an end even of our seeming self-hood; we are once more immersed in the All, the Whole--like a thimbleful of water drawn from the ocean and poured back into the ocean again. This is what Mr. Picton calls "the peace of absorption in the Infinite"; would it not be simpler to call it annihilation, and have done with it? Dissolve a bronze statue and merge it in a mass of molten metal, and it is gone as a statue; dissolve a soul and merge it in the sum of being, and as a soul it is no more. That is not immortality, but a final blotting out--a fit conclusion from those pantheistic premises which, consistently worked out, mean the end of religion, the end of morality, the end of everything. Pantheism goes about under a variety of aliases to-day, and therein lies an additional danger; for whatever its assumed name or disguise, its essence is always the same, and its very speciousness calls for all our vigilance and {52} determination to fight it. We must not weary of challenging its root-assumption, or of exposing its insidious tendencies; we must not weary of reiterating the truth that God is not identical with the universe, but to be worshipped as the One who is over all; we must insist that His nearness to us and our likeness to Him are not identity with Him--nay, that it is His otherness from us which makes us capable of seeking and finding Him, of experiencing His love, and loving Him in return. From the inhuman speculations of Pantheism we turn with unspeakable gratitude to the revelation of the personal God in the Person of Jesus Christ His Son, whom having seen, we have beheld the Father, and whose are the words, not of annihilation, but of eternal life. [1] _Pantheism_, p. 15. [2] Parerga, vol. ii., pp. 101-102. [3] _The True God_, p. 118. [4] _Op. cit._, p. 15. [5] _Ibid_, p. 69. [6] J. Allanson Picton, _Spinoza_, p. 213. {53} CHAPTER III THE ETHICS OF MONISM To say that religious thought is passing to-day through a period of peculiar stress is to utter a commonplace so threadbare that one apologises for repeating it. Even the man in the street--or perhaps we ought to say even the man in the pew, the average member of a Christian Church--is aware that certain potent forces have been for some time past directing a series of sustained assaults upon what were until recently all but unquestioned beliefs; nor, if he is capable of appreciating facts, will he deny--though he may deplore it--that to all seeming these attacks have been attended by a considerable measure of success. If, however, our man in the pew were asked to specify what forces he had in his mind, he would probably in nine cases out of ten point to two such, and two alone, _viz._, natural science and Biblical criticism, which, he would tell us, had between them created an atmosphere in which the old views of Scriptural authority found it more and more difficult to maintain themselves. {54} Such an estimate of the situation would be true so far as it went; yet it would omit to take account of a third factor, a solvent far less obvious in its workings, but far more disintegrating in its effects. The factor to which we are referring is philosophy; while science and criticism have overthrown certain traditional ramparts, a type of philosophy has sprung up, slowly undermining the very foundations; or, to vary the simile, while the former two have captured certain outworks, the latter has made its way to within striking distance of the citadel, and that the more unobserved because attention has been focussed almost exclusively upon the more imposing performances of the critic and the biologist. As a matter of fact, religion never had, nor could have, anything to fear from these two quarters, which--as we can now see--could not in any way touch the essence of religious faith, as distinguished from some of its temporary forms; on the other hand, that very essence might be imperilled by a false but plausible philosophy, and grave practical consequences in the domain of conduct might arise from its spread. For if it is accurate to say that behind every ethic there stands--whether avowed or unavowed--a certain metaphysic, the converse holds true no less; every philosophy, in the exact proportion in which it is _ex animo_ accepted, will tend to produce its ethical counterpart. What we {55} submit in all seriousness is that the only real danger to religion that is to be apprehended to-day--a danger to which it is impossible to blind ourselves--is that involved in a certain metaphysical outlook, whose continued growth in popularity cannot but ere long produce its own results in the field of practice. The philosophy in question is intimately related to that Pantheism at some of whose implications we were glancing in our last chapter; if we refer to it here and subsequently by the name of Monism, under which it has of late obtained a considerable vogue in this country, it must be understood that we do not mean what Dr. Ballard calls _Theo_monism, but a far less carefully thought-out and tested theory of life, which at the present time is making a successful appeal to multitudes of inexact thinkers. The fundamental idea common to this school is that the universe, including our individualities or what we think such, constitutes only one being, and manifests only one will, which all its phenomena express. Separateness of existence, according to such a view--which, after all, represents only the extreme logic of Pantheism--is, of course, a chimaera, and so, _a fortiori_, must separate volition be. The only real will--_i.e._, the will of the universe--is regarded as good and right; and since there is no other will but that one, and seeing that none resists or inhibits it, it is ever being carried out, continuously operative. {56} To call this will even "prevailing" would be a misuse of language, since there is no other will for it to prevail against. Now, regarded merely in the abstract, this conception might be treated as a harmless eccentricity or speculative aberration, and is likely to be so treated by the ordinary "practical" man, with his contempt for "theories," and his pathetic conviction that speculation does not matter; let us, however, see what is implied in this particular speculative theory. From the primary assumption of this philosophy it follows with an irresistible cogency that there is no such thing as real, objective evil. Sin, if the term be retained at all, can at most be only a blunder. Evil is only an inexact description of a lesser good, or good in the making. Indeed, properly considered--_i.e._, from the monistic standpoint--evil is a mere negation, a shadow where light should be; or to be quite logical, evil is that which is not--in other words, there is no evil, except to deluded minds, whose business is to get quit of their delusion. The one and only cosmic will being declared good, it follows that for the monist "all's right with the world," in a sense scarcely contemplated by Browning when he penned that most dubious aphorism. We propose briefly to show how this creed works out--what is its ethical counterpart or issue--not by arguing _in vacuo_ what it _must_ be, but by presenting to the reader three {57} selected illustrations taken from the writings of as many exponents of this type of Monism. In his volume _First and Last Things_--a work which he significantly calls "a confession of faith and rule of life"--Mr. H. G. Wells avows himself a believer in the "Being of the Species," and, prospectively at least, in "the eternally conscious Being of all things." The individual as such is merely an "experiment of the species for the species," and without significance _per se_; we are "episodes in an experience greater than ourselves," "incidental experiments in the growing knowledge and consciousness of the race." Mr. Wells's fundamental act of faith is a firm belief in "the ultimate rightness and significance of things," including "the wheel-smashed frog on the road, and the fly drowning in the milk." In other words, all is just as it has to be; regrets, remorses and discontents exist only for the "unbeliever" in this truth, while, speaking for himself, the author frankly says, "I believe . . . that my defects and uglinesses and failures, just as much as my powers and successes, are things that are necessary and important." "In the last resort," he concludes his book, "I do not care whether I am seated on a throne, or drunk, or dying in a gutter. I follow my leading. In the ultimate I know, though I cannot prove my knowledge in any way whatever, that everything is right, and all things mine." {58} Certainly, this is uncompromising candour; but it is also,--though Mr. Wells, strangely enough, calls himself a believer in freewill--the most uncompromising Determinism conceivable. And this Determinism follows quite inevitably from Mr. Wells's monistic premises--belief in a cosmic "scheme" every part of which is ultimately right. An end in the gutter or on the gallows may be as necessary to that scheme's perfection as a life spent in strenuous goodness. Whatever is, is right. It can be hardly necessary to point out that such a belief, consistently entertained, puts an end to all moral effort; we "follow our leading"--_i.e._, we do not drive, but drift. Arguing from his own premises, it is absolutely vain for Mr. Wells to wax indignantly eloquent over social abuses, as when he says:-- I see the grimy millions who slave for industrial production; I see some who are extravagant and yet contemptible creatures of luxury, and some leading lives of shame and indignity; . . . I see gamblers, fools, brutes, toilers, martyrs. Their disorder of effort, the spectacle of futility, fills me with a passionate desire to end waste, to create order. (p. 99.) But why, we ask, should Mr. Wells feel this passionate desire, if all the failures and uglinesses of life are "necessary and important"? How, on this assumption, are existing social ills to be remedied--nay, why _should_ they be remedied, why should they be stigmatised as ills, seeing that "everything is right"? Let {59} Mr. Wells once take his principles seriously enough to apply them, and personal as well as social reform is at an end. Perhaps it may be permissible to say that of all forms of Determinism the most irrational is that optimistic form which deprecates discontent with things as they are as a mark of "unbelief." Mr. Wells, however, while his influence is a very considerable one, utters his teaching from outside the Christian Church, and very properly disavows the Christian name; what must give us pause is to find the monistic ethics being preached and taught by official exponents of the Christian religion. What, _e.g._, can we think of a statement like the following, which we quote from the columns of a religious journal? There are people who think it is an evidence of superior Culture to show themselves pained by certain things; but it is not really that; they are pained because they are not cultured enough, or in the right way. . . Nothing is good or ill But thinking makes it so. They think it desirable to dislike things because they dislike them; if they thought it desirable not to dislike them, they would not dislike them. Again, no one will accuse this writer of want of frankness; according to him, there is simply no such thing as objective evil--acts and individuals have no moral qualities or characters, but are such as we think them, and our business is so to think of them that they will not pain us. {60} If we only knew aright, we should not regard anything as bad. If we are pained by the thought of fifty thousand hungry children in London elementary schools, or by the condition of Regent Street at night, it is because we are not "cultured" enough--we have not the right _gnosis_. When we reflect that anyone who consistently believes that "nothing is good or ill, but thinking makes it so," will inevitably, first or last, apply that comforting maxim to his own acts, we can see in what direction the ethics of Monism--in reality a return to the ultra-subjectivism of the Sophists, who made man the measure of all things--are likely to lead men. And yet, if the monistic presuppositions are valid--if the universe in all its phases expresses only one will--we do not see how these conclusions can be repelled. But it is, perhaps, our last illustration, drawn from yet another writer of the same school, which will exhibit both the teaching under discussion and its practical dangers in the clearest light. We are told that-- _There is no will that is not God's will_. I do not mean that yours is not real, or that any man's is not real, but I do mean that nothing can happen to any of God's children--no matter how evil the intention of the person who does it, or how seemingly meaningless the calamity that causes it--which is not in some way the sacrament of God's love to us, and His call upon our highest energies. In a true and real sense, therefore, it is God's own doing and meant for our greater glory; . . . I believe in the infinitude of wisdom and love; _there is nothing else_. {61} Those who will take the moderate trouble of translating these words from the abstract into the concrete will need no further demonstration of the moral implications of this type of Monism. "There is no will"--not even the most brutalised or the most debauched--"that is not God's will." "Nothing can happen to any of God's children"--say, to the natives of the Congo or to a Jewish community during a Russian _pogrom_--but is God's call upon their highest energies: wherefore they ought, assuredly, to be thankful to King Leopold's emissaries and the Tsar's faithful Black Hundreds! But let us apply this thesis to yet another case, which will bring out its full character: if an English girl--one of God's children--is snared away by a ruffian, under pretext of honest employment, to some Continental hell, then we are to understand that the physical and moral ruin which awaits the victim is "in some way the sacrament of God's love" to her--"in a true and real sense it is God's own doing," and meant for her greater glory! We have no hesitation in saying that such teaching strikes us as fraught with infinite possibilities of moral harm, the more so because of the rather mawkish sentimentality with which it is decked out; for if any scoundrel is really the instrument of God's will, why should he be blamed for his scoundrelism? And we observe how yet once more, by a glib and vapid phrase--"I believe in the {62} infinitude of wisdom and love; _there is nothing else_"--the fact of evil has been triumphantly got rid of. In words, that is to say, but not in reality; for in reality there is a great deal else--sin, and shame, and remorse, and heartbreak, and despair; against the first of which we need to be warned, in order that we may escape the rest. We are quite prepared to be told that our anxieties are groundless, because "no one will ever draw such inferences as these." To this we reply, firstly, that these are the logical and legitimate inferences from the principles enunciated; and secondly, that we do not at all share the particular kind of optimism which trusts that good luck will prevent the application of these theories to practical life. We are living in an age of wide-spread intellectual unsettlement, an age presenting the difficult problem of a vast half-educated public, ready to fall an easy prey to all manner of specious sophistries, especially when they are dressed up in the garb of a pseudo-mysticism; we must above all remember that human nature is habitually prone to welcome whatever will serve as an excuse for throwing off the irksome restraints of moral discipline. That is why we repeat that the one real danger religion has to face to-day is the danger arising from the spread of a false philosophy, whose tenets are ultimately incompatible with Christian morals. The worst heresies are moral {63} heresies; and of the views we have been discussing we say roundly that their falseness is sufficiently proved by their ethical implications. "A good tree cannot bring forth evil fruit; therefore by their fruits ye shall know them." Against all the insidious attempts that are made to-day to minimise or explain away moral evil--attempts with which we shall deal in greater detail at a later stage--we have to reaffirm the reality and exceeding sinfulness of sin; more particularly, in combating the preposterous notion of man's oneness with God as something already realised, we have to insist with renewed emphasis that salvation, so far from being self-understood, is a prize only to be won by a hard struggle, nor shut the door upon the dread possibility of that prize being missed. There are perhaps few truths to which it is more desirable that we should pay renewed attention than that expressed in the saying, "_When belief waxes unsound, practice becomes uncertain._" Certainly, the ethics of Monism supply a case in point. {64} CHAPTER IV MONISM AND THE INDIVIDUAL When Tennyson, in _Locksley Hall_, wrote the line declaring that "the individual withers and the world is more and more," he might have been inditing a prophecy summing up those modern tendencies which have engaged our attention in preceding chapters. And there are perhaps few more important questions before us to-day than this--whether Tennyson's prophecy is to be fulfilled, whether the individual is to be allowed to "wither," and the world to become more and more. There are those who hold that such a consummation is devoutly to be wished; there are those who regard any movement making in such a direction with something more than suspicion. Let us say at once that in discussing the status of the individual, we are not referring--at least, not directly--to the struggle between Individualism and Socialism. We know that individualists express the fear that under a socialist _régime_ there would be an end to individual initiative, while socialists retort that the chief sin of the competitive system is {65} that it crushes and destroys individuality; but between the contentions of these rival schools of economics we are not attempting to adjudicate. Perhaps we cannot better indicate the scope of our subject than by quoting from two recent theological works, written from such widely differing points of view as Professor Peake's _Christianity: Its Nature and its Truth_, and Professor Bousset's _The Faith of a Modern Protestant_:-- "It is only in it"--_viz._, in Christianity--says the learned Primitive Methodist theologian, "that the individual has received his true place. In antiquity the worth of the individual was greatly under-estimated; he was unduly subordinated to the community. But the Christian religion, by insisting on the infinite value of each human soul, and by asserting the greatness of its destiny, supplied an immense incentive to the attainment by each of the highest within reach. The doctrine of the worth of man is, to all who accept it, a powerful stimulus in the struggle to a fuller and deeper life. An interest in mankind in the mass is compatible with heartless indifference to the lot of individuals" (p. 88). "The Gospel," declares the Göttingen modernist, "announces a God who seeks and desires above all else the individual human soul. It unites, in a security and closeness hitherto unknown, belief in God with the importance of the individual human life. It {66} is the religion of religious individualism raised to its highest point." (p. 36). Such concurrence of testimony from two such different quarters is as remarkable as it is significant; and this brings us to our point. The question with which we are confronted to-day, and which our civilisation must either answer aright or perish, is not whether an individualist or a socialist state would be more conducive to the individual's self-realisation, but whether Christianity is right or wrong in its doctrine of the individual's paramount importance. The issue, as we shall try to show, lies between Christianity on the one hand and Monism on the other. From the Christian point of view the individual matters supremely; from that of Monism the beginning of wisdom is that the individual should recognise and acquiesce in his utter insignificance. As in our last chapter we glanced at the monistic ethics, so in the present one we propose to inquire briefly first into the social and then into the religious implications of this theory, which it must be remembered is receiving a good deal of support, and meeting with a large measure of acceptance just now. Turning, then, to the social side first of all, no one, of course, would say that Socialism as such was monistic; on the other hand it is easy to understand the attraction of Socialism for those whose philosophy is Monism. They will embrace the economic teachings of Collectivism the more {67} eagerly in exact proportion to their root-conviction that the only thing that matters is the totality of things, while the individual, _per se_, does not count at all. That is the conception which underlies the Socialism of a writer like Mr. Wells, who is in nothing more emphatic than in asserting that the individual as such has no value at all. "Our individualities," he says, "are but bubbles and clusters of foam upon the great stream of the blood of the species." "The race is the drama, and we are the incidents." "In so far as we are individuals . . . we are accidental, disconnected, without significance." And when we ask for what we should strive and labour, if not for the good of individual men and women, his answer is that we ought to work for the Species, for the Race, for what he calls a great physical and mental being, to wit, Mankind. Now we believe that this philosophy, consistently embraced, is utterly devoid of the dynamic which can generate any great social reform. The smallest and forlornest actual slum baby appeals to our sympathy immeasurably more than a vast, dim aggregate of indistinguishable items called the Race; for we have actually met the slum-baby, and we have never met--what is more, we shall never meet--the Race. This tendency to treat the individual as negligible is as futile as it is inhuman; in the long run it will be found that he who loveth not his brother whom he hath seen, cannot love {68} the Race which he hath not seen. No matter by how many times we multiply nothing, the result is still--nothing. If the individuals do not count, neither can the species which is made up of such individuals. Or, if "the Race is the drama, and we are the incidents," it must be observed that no great and noble drama can be strung together out of trivial and unmeaning incidents. All the talk about Mankind as the greater being, "the great and growing Being of the Species," "the eternally conscious Being of all things," is only the old, thin, unsatisfying idolatry of Positivism. If we wish to be social reformers in earnest we must take care of the individuals, and the race will take care of itself. That the monistic denial of all individual significance should lead to the denial of a future life is only what we should expect; for if man, as such, does not _matter_, why should he _survive_? On the other hand, the more we care for the individual, refusing to regard him merely as "an experiment of the species for the species," the more irresistibly shall we be impelled to believe that this life is not all. It is the inestimable achievement of Christianity, by its insistence on the infinite value of the soul, to have given the strongest impetus and support to belief in personal immortality. That, however, is an aspect of our subject which demands, and will subsequently come up for, separate treatment. {69} What, for the present, we must yet once more point out, as we did in the preceding chapter, is this--that wide as is the influence of a non-Christian writer like Mr. Wells, the danger of such teaching is intensified when it is given by those who profess Christianity. Doubtless, Bousset is right when he points to the closer contact between East and West as one of the causes of the growth in our midst of a type of religion in which "the human ego is put on one side and almost reduced to zero." Doubtless, also, he is correct in saying "the adherents of this kind of religion will be chiefly found in circles where people do not regard religion seriously, where they desire and accept religion as aesthetic enjoyment." Nevertheless, the evil attending this type of teaching is, to our thinking, great and serious, designed to undermine selfhood and to set up a species of dry-rot at the very centre. Let us again show what we mean by quoting from an actual utterance: "God," we read, "is supposed to be thinking more about us than about anything else--a rather arrogant assumption when we come to think of it, considering what specks of dust we are amid these myriads of stars and suns whirling through space like motes in a ray of light--and the great object of His solicitude is to get us individually to toe the mark of Christ-likeness." If this view be the true one, the writer went on to ask, why do questions like unemployment, the Budget, {70} the uprising of nationalism in Turkey, etc., bulk so largely in our thought? These topics, he says, have "little or no relation to the question of saving the individual soul, as commonly understood." How, he demands, does the actual life of every day fit into "that view of the scheme of things which bids us believe that the silent God above us is principally anxious about just one thing, the moral recovery and ingathering of these individual souls one by one"? The answer is given with characteristic confidence: "It does not fit into it at all; _if God be as anxious about that as we are assured He is, He has a queer way of showing it_." Here we have a conception of man and his place in the sum of things fundamentally at one with that of Mr. Wells, and as utterly irreconcilable with that of Christianity. Not only does the individual not matter in himself; he does not even matter to God. The idea of the soul's infinite value to God is held up to derision, and so is the idea of God's interest in individual character; man, the atom, must not think that the Creator is specially anxious for his fate, and is bidden to measure his insignificance against the vastness of the heavenly bodies; and in conclusion we are pertly told that if God really cares about the individual as such, "He has a queer way of showing it." In this view--the view of Monism--it is indeed true that "the individual withers, and the world is more and more." {71} We say that the issue is plain; it lies between Monism and Christianity; if the one is true, the other must be rejected. On which side shall we cast our verdict? For a warning example we have only to glance at the case of Buddhism, in which, the value of human individuality having been steadily lowered, "the other main factor is religion, belief in God, was likewise lost" (Bousset). But, turning to a more detailed examination of the statement just quoted, it is hardly necessary to discuss the astounding suggestion that man must not take himself too seriously by the side of the immensities of suns and stars. Such a view merely betrays a spiritual perception miles below that of the Psalmist, who saw man, to all appearance a negligible speck, yet in reality made by the Almighty little lower than the angels, and crowned with glory and honour. Neither need we combat at length the strangely superficial notion that such questions as unemployment, the Budget, etc., have little or no relation to that of saving the individual soul, as commonly understood. If they have no relation to _that_ subject, they are hardly worth considering; but the fact is that the regulation of industry, the distribution of wealth--these and all other questions derive their importance solely from the manner in which they affect individual men, women and children, fitting or unfitting them for the life that now is and that which is to come. A good deal might be said of {72} the temper which makes fun of the idea of God's "solicitude to get us individually to toe the mark of Christ-likeness"; but we may leave that unhappy phrase to be its own comment. The attitude of Christianity to our question is perfectly clear. Christianity, in teaching each frailest, poorest human unit to address God as Father, affirms in unmistakeable accents the Eternal's personal interest in and care for the individual soul, and by so doing ennobles every human life that falls under the sway of the Gospel. It is Christianity's master-thought that to the Father from whom all fatherhood is named each one of His children is personally dear, and that His desire is for the salvation of each one. To the cheap and ugly sneer that God has a "queer way" of manifesting His concern for us as individuals, the Christian consciousness has its own answer; how, in any case, such a sneer could come from the same source from which we previously quoted the statement that "nothing can happen to any of God's children which is not in some way the sacrament of God's love to us," we do not profess to understand. We are not mere individual organ-stops, each without use or significance apart from the rest, waiting for our mutual dissonances to be swallowed up in some "music of the whole," but members of a family, each with a place in the Parent's heart and thought. Finally, to the Christian there is one last, {73} crowning proof of the soul's value for God, and God's yearning for the soul; that proof is Calvary. To the Christian there is one experience which settles this problem fully and finally for him; it is the experience which Paul embodied in the cry, "He loved me, and gave Himself for me." For Monism the individual is a mere surface ripple on an infinite ocean, alike impermanent and impersonal; for Christianity the soul is a child of the Father of all souls, loved with an everlasting love. Between these two conceptions we have to choose, remembering that each utterly excludes the other. There is no third alternative. {74} CHAPTER V THE DIVINE PERSONALITY While in our last three chapters we have been dealing with certain theories which implicitly or explicitly deny the Divine Personality, and while an impersonal God can be, as we have already seen, of no value for religion, there is no mistaking the fact that this very question--whether, _i.e._, it is possible and legitimate for us to think of God as personal--constitutes one of the most typical of modern "difficulties." It is probably correct to say that this difficulty, like others we have reviewed, dates practically from the collapse of Deism, a creed which possessed a certain hard lucidity satisfying to many for the very reason that it required no very profound insight for its understanding. That a Deity localised in a far-away heaven, seated on a celestial throne and surrounded by an angelic court, should be a person, like any other sovereign, presented no problem to the understanding; but if God was not merely transcendent but also immanent--not merely somewhere but in some indefinable manner everywhere--then to predicate personality of {75} such a One seemed a very paradox. In one of Feuillet's novels there occurs a phrase which sums up in a few expressive words a very common spiritual misadventure: the hero says, "_J'avais vu disparaître parmi les nuages la tête de ce bon vieillard qu'on appelle Dieu_"--"I had seen the head of that good old man called God disappear amongst the clouds." His naïve material conception of the Eternal had dissolved--and dissolved into nothingness. May we not surmise that nine times out of ten this is precisely what has happened when we hear the question asked, "But how _can_ God be personal?" In by far the greater number of cases, that is to say, the problem arises simply and solely from the questioner's failure to dissociate _personality_ from _materiality_; a "person" suggests to him a tangible, visible, ponderable form, with arms and legs and organs of sense--and when he has reflected sufficiently to understand that such a description cannot apply to God, he concludes that _therefore_ God cannot be personal. The next step is usually that, having seen this visibly outlined Deity disappear _parmi les nuages_, he passes into absolute unbelief; for somehow an impersonal "Power," while it may possibly inspire awe, cannot move us to worship, cannot present to us a moral imperative, cannot, above all, either claim our love or give us its affection. It is really the identical difficulty, stated a little {76} more pretentiously, which the "rationalist" author of _The Churches and Modern Thought_ presents to us by remarking that in all our experience that which makes up personality is "connected with nerve structures," so that we cannot attribute such a quality to "a Being who is described to us as devoid of any nerve structure." "I know of no answer," he quaintly adds, "that could be called satisfactory from a theistic standpoint." [1] It is evident that Mr. Vivian does not remember the famous passage in the _Essay on Theism_ where John Stuart Mill explains that "the relation of thought to a material brain is no metaphysical necessity, but simply a constant co-existence within the limits of observation," and concludes that although "experience furnishes us with no example of any series of states of consciousness" without an accompanying brain, "it is as easy to imagine such a series of states without as with this accompaniment." [2] According to Mill--hardly a champion of orthodoxy--there is no reason in the nature of things why "thoughts, emotions, volitions and even sensations" should be necessarily dependent upon or connected with "nerve structures "; so that Mr. Vivian's argument palpably fails. But what about this popular notion which identifies personality with materiality, and {77} therefore denies the former attribute to God? One would think that even the most circumscribed experience, or reflection on such experience, must suffice to dispose of such a misapprehension; let us use the most obvious of illustrations for showing where the error lies. We have only to imagine one of those everyday tragedies that make a short newspaper paragraph--say, the case of a man passing a house in process of erection, and being killed on the spot by a piece of falling timber. He is left as a material form; he is decidedly not left as a person. Something has disappeared in that fatal moment that no one had ever seen or handled--his self-consciousness, his intelligence, his will, his affections, his moral sense: _with_ these he was a person; _without_ them, he is a corpse. If, then, it is these unseen, intangible qualities, and not flesh and bones, muscle and "nerve structure," that constitute _human_ personality, is it not rather childish to argue that, unless God possesses a body of some sort, the _Divine_ Personality is a contradiction in terms? If we can validly affirm in the Deity qualities corresponding to those which in human beings we call consciousness, intelligence, etc., we shall obviously be compelled to assign personality to Him; the question is, Have we sufficient grounds for making such an affirmation? But before we are allowed to answer that question, we have to meet another preliminary {78} objection; for it seems that we are in conflict with philosophy--or, to be more exact, with a certain philosophy which, while no longer perhaps in the heyday of its influence with students, still enjoys a good deal of popular vogue. We are, of course, referring to the Spencerian system, in which the word "Absolute" is used as a synonym for what we should call the Deity; but, argues the Spencerian, since "Absolute is that which exists out of all relation," [3] whereas "even intelligence or consciousness itself is conceivable only as a relation," it follows that "the Absolute cannot be thought of as conscious." But if God cannot even be thought of as conscious, how much less can He be thought of as personal! Such an inference would, indeed, be irresistible if only the premises on which it rests were sound. But is it legitimate, we ask, to identify God with "the Absolute," or is not this merely a way of begging the question? "Absolute is that which exists out of all relation," we were just told, and such a genuine Absolute would be genuinely "unknowable," because its very existence could not be so much as guessed at; but the Spencerian Absolute is the most certain of certainties, described by Professor Hudson as "the one Eternal Reality, the corner-stone of all our {79} knowledge"--otherwise as "the Infinite and Eternal Energy from which all things proceed." But the corner-stone of all our knowledge can be such only because, so far from being unknowable, it is intimately related to all our experience--which is tantamount to saying that it is not absolute at all; and again, if God be the Infinite and Eternal Energy from which all things proceed, that Energy must be thought of as related to all things--in other words, it is the very reverse of absolute. And hence the imaginary impossibility of thinking of the Deity as conscious and intelligent vanishes at one stroke. If God were really absolute, in the sense of the definition quoted above, it would certainly be, as Professor Hudson says, "from the standpoint of philosophical exactness" quite inadmissible "to speak of the Divine Will, or a Personal Creator, or an intelligent Governor of the universe"; but as we have seen that this absoluteness is purely fictitious, it follows that we may legitimately inquire whether consciousness, intelligence, will--and hence personality--are predicable of God, without heeding a veto which rests on imaginary foundations. It is true Professor Hudson raises two further objections; these, however, will not long detain us. We are informed in the first place that "the further progress of thought 'must force men hereafter to drop the higher anthropomorphic characters given to the First {80} Cause, as they have long since dropped the lower'"; but since our guide, a few pages later, quotes with approval the dictum that "unless we cease to think altogether, we _must_ think anthropomorphically," we may be pardoned for declining to believe that "the further progress of thought must force men hereafter" to "cease to think altogether." Such a suicide of thought would furnish an odd comment upon philosophic "progress." We shall, of course, continue to think anthropomorphically of God; our thought will thus inevitably fall short of the Reality, but it will be truer than if we did not think of Him at all. Again, Divine Personality is declared to be a self-contradiction because "Personality implies limitation, or it means nothing at all. To talk of an Infinite Person, therefore, is to talk of something that is at once infinite and finite, unconditioned and conditioned, unlimited and limited--an impossibility." To this plea there are, however, two answers. The first may be made in the unprejudiced words of Mr. Vivian, who observes,[4] "We must not forget that in philosophy and theology the word 'person' simply implies 'a nature endowed with consciousness,' and does not involve limits." But secondly, without committing ourselves to Professor Hudson's dictum that personality implies limitation, we have to point out that we are not concerned to defend any inference that might be drawn from the infinity, in the sense {81} of the "allness" of God. We do not deny, but on the contrary affirm, that in the act of creation God imposes limitations upon Himself; so that this last obstacle also is disposed of. So far, then, we have dealt with the _a priori_ arguments against the Personality of God, and have seen why none of these--neither that from His non-materiality, nor from His alleged absoluteness or infinity--raises any real bar to His being thought of as personal. We are now in a position to inquire positively whether there is sufficient ground for regarding Him as conscious, intelligent and purposive; if He possesses these qualities, we repeat that He certainly possesses that of personality. The method by which we must proceed is obvious, and will at once occur to the reader who recalls our opening chapter; the question resolves itself simply into this--Are the phenomena of nature such as to indicate intelligence and directivity in their Cause? We submit that incontrovertible proof of the _absence_ of such directive intelligence would be furnished, if the world were, as a matter of fact, chaotic--if it disclosed neither regularity nor continuity--if, in a word, we could never be sure what would happen next. True, in such a state of things life itself could not be sustained, for life is only possible in a world of orderly sequences and uniform laws; but seeing that as a matter of fact such orderly sequences and uniform laws meet us everywhere {82} in nature, is not the inference fairly inevitable? Let us be quite clear on one point: there are two ways, and two only, in which any phenomenon can be accounted for--design or chance; what is not purposed must be accidental. Does, then, nature impress us as the outcome of chance? If we saw a faultlessly executed mathematical diagram illustrating a proposition in Euclid, should we really be satisfied with the statement that it represented the random pencil-strokes made by a blindfolded child ignorant of geometry? On the other hand, if a fretful baby is allowed to divert himself by hammering the piano keys, is the result ever remotely akin to a tune? We know perfectly well that we never get harmony, order, beauty, rationality by accident; and there is only one other alternative--design, purpose, guidance. Professor Fiske quotes a quaint observation of Kepler's illustrating this very point, which we may be allowed to reproduce:-- Yesterday, when weary with writing and my mind quite dusty with considering these atoms, I was called to supper, and a salad was set before me. "It seems then," said I aloud, "that if pewter dishes, leaves of lettuce, grains of salt, drops of oil and vinegar, and slices of eggs, had been floating about in the air from all eternity, it might at last happen by chance that there would come a salad." "Yes," says my wife, "but not so nice and well-dressed as mine is!" Mrs. Kepler's shrewd, homely remark gives its last touch of absurdity to the suggestion {83} that a world which we see to be pervaded by unfailing law has come together by sheer, incalculable accident. Not so much as a salad of respectable calibre could be accounted for upon such a theory; how much less credible is it that the universe began with a cosmic dance of unconscious atoms whirled along by unconscious forces, and happening so to combine as to produce order and sequence, life and consciousness, will and affection! But not only does the universe exhibit a sublime order which is the very contrary of what we can associate with the blind workings of chance; not only do the circling immensities of the stars and the microscopic perfections of the snow-crystals alike point to a shaping and directing Mind and Will: what nature reveals--what is implied in the very term evolution--is not merely order but progress. As Fiske has it, "Whatever else may be true, the conviction is brought home to us that in all this endless multifariousness there is one single principle at work, that _all is tending towards an end that was involved in the very beginning_." In other words, the supreme certainty brought home to us by the researches of modern science is that all creation is thrilled through by an all-encompassing Purpose. We really ask for no more than such an admission; that, in short, is our case. We can clinch the whole argument with one quiet sentence of Mr. Chesterton's: "Where there is a purpose, {84} there is a person." If Mr. Spencer's "Infinite and Eternal Energy, from which all things proceed" is purposive, that is equivalent to saying that God is what we mean by personal. But ought we not to have shown first of all that He is conscious? No, for the greater includes the less, and purpose is unthinkable apart from consciousness. In saying this we are aware that a philosopher like Eduard von Hartmann speaks of "the wisdom of the Unconscious," of "the mechanical devices which It employs," of "the direction of the goal intended by the Unconscious," etc., etc.; but this, we are bound to say, is to empty words of their meaning. To intend, to direct anything requires at least that the one so doing should be conscious of what it is he is doing. And consciousness, intelligence, directivity are constituents never found apart from personality. But, we are told, "the choice lies, not between personality and something lower, but between personality and something inconceivably higher." [5] We reply that we have already made the acquaintance of this idea of a "super-personal" Deity, and found that for all practical--_i.e._, religious--purposes the super-personal is simply the impersonal under another name.[6] And when we remember that the "inconceivably higher than personal" ultimate Reality of the agnostic possesses neither {85} consciousness, nor will, nor intelligence, we simply fail to see how a Power lacking these attributes could be even personal, to say nothing of its being _more_ than personal. Be this, however, as it may, the decisive fact remains that we are persons, and therefore personality is the highest category under which we can think; and if we, the children of the Eternal, are endowed with personality, it is sufficient for us to know that a cause must be at least adequate to produce the effects that have flowed from it. Nothing can be evolved but what was first involved. On this ground alone, whatever else God may be, He is at least personal; and that is all we were anxious to establish. That is all--but it is also all-important; for it cannot be too emphatically insisted that without a personal God religion simply ceases to be. It is a strange and delusive fancy on Professor Hudson's part, and that of a good many people, that "the religious emotions" will survive the de-ethicising, depersonalising of the Deity, and that men will remain "deeply religious" even when it is recognised that the "Great Enigma," the "eternal and inscrutable energy," the "ultimate Reality" cannot be spoken of as "a Personal Creator, or an intelligent Governor of the universe." For our own part, we find it difficult to believe that such a forecast could have been framed by anyone possessing a first-hand knowledge of what "the religious {86} emotions" are; we say with the utmost confidence that no such emotions can be felt towards a Power which "cannot be thought of as conscious," let alone as benevolent or personally interested in us. We well know that we can be nothing to such a Power--nor can It be anything to us; for a God who does not care, does not count. We cannot commune with this chill and awesome Unknown; we can only pray to One who hears; we can only love One who has first loved us. In the last analysis, an "impersonal Deity" such as one hears occasionally spoken of, is a mere contradiction in terms, the coinage of confused and inaccurate thought. Where the meaning of personality is so much as understood, doubt as to the Divine Personality vanishes; and least of all will that truth be doubted by those who see the supreme revelation of God in Jesus Christ. He, the Incarnate Son, has shown us, not a Power but a Person--the Person of the Father--and, to-day as of old, "it sufficeth us." [1] _The Churches and Modern Thought_, by Philip Vivian, p. 231. [2] _Three Essays on Religion_, R.P.A. reprint, p. 85. [3] This and subsequent quotations are taken from pp. 108-119 of Prof. Hudson's _Introduction to the Philosophy of Herbert Spencer_. [4] Op. cit., p. 231. [5] Hudson, _op. cit._, p. 116. [6] _Supra_, p. 46. {87} CHAPTER VI EVIL _versus_ DIVINE GOODNESS That the renewed emphasis upon the Divine immanence must have for one of its effects that of raising the problem of evil afresh, and in a particularly acute form, will be obvious to anyone who has thought out for himself the implications of that doctrine. Dark and pressing enough before, this particular problem has, in appearance at least, been both complicated and accentuated by the displacement of Deism. If, as we have argued on a previous occasion, there is a certain causal connection between Deism and a somewhat sombre outlook upon the world, on the other hand the existence of evil seemed to fit in better with a view of God which represented Him as outside the universe than with one which insists upon His indwelling in creation. If the earth was the scene and playground of undivine agencies which work their will while the Divine control is withdrawn, then many things became comparatively easy of comprehension; indeed, there was a certain consolation in the thought that-- All the things that had been so wrong After all would not last for long, {88} but that ultimately God would resume the supreme control He had temporarily abandoned, while the Power of darkness would be bound and cast into the abyss. If, however, we must think of Him as omnipresent and for that reason directly and uninterruptedly cognisant of all, then the plain man can only ask himself with a deepening wonder why an all-good and unimaginably powerful Being should permit evils of every description to lay waste His own creation. "No one can enter into the house of the strong, and spoil his goods, except he first bind the strong"; and since a direct overpowering of God by Satan is out of the question, is not the assumption to which we are driven this--that the Strong One is absent while His goods are being spoiled, and that it is this very absence of which the spoiler has taken advantage? Somehow, we feel, if He were really present--as present as the doctrine of immanence would have us believe--He would actively assert Himself against wrongs and abuses; and when we think of the blood and tears that are shed the world over as the result of disordered desire, industrial greed and political misrule, we find it difficult not to echo the words of psalmist and prophet, "Why standest Thou afar off, O Lord? Why hidest Thou Thyself in times of trouble?" "Verily Thou art a God that hidest Thyself." In saying this we do not suggest that such an attempt to explain the phenomena of evil {89} by God's supposed absence from the world is defensible; we do say that the belief in His all-encompassing nearness makes those phenomena even more difficult of explanation than they were before. The devout deist could always comfort himself with the thought that, however mysterious God's standing afar off might be, by and by, when He drew nigh again, He would deal out even-handed justice to all; but such comfort is not open to those who explicitly deny God's remoteness, but on the contrary assert that He is the Presence from which there is no escaping. And the fact of evil, physical and moral, is precisely the chief and most fruitful source of religious scepticism; it is not the abstract question whether there is a God, but the practical and insistent problem whether the Divine goodness can be reconciled with the facts of life and experience, that is agitating men's minds, and sways their decision for or against religion. Everyone knows that this is what Mr. Mallock some time ago called "the crux of Theism"; that "crux," to use his own language, is not "the existence of intelligent purpose in the universe," which may be freely conceded, but whether the processes of nature are or are not consistent with "a God possessing the character which it is the essence of Theism to attribute to Him, and which alone could render Him an object of religion, or even of interest, to mankind." Sometimes in accents of wistful {90} wonder, sometimes in tones of revolt and defiant unbelief, the question is asked:--Why does God allow dire calamity, painful disease, earthquakes and shipwrecks, and accidents of the mine? Why does He permit war, or vivisection, or poverty, or vice--in fact any of "the heartache and the thousand natural shocks that flesh is heir to"? We should stop these things if we could; why does not He? One is reminded of Mr. William Watson's passionate arraignment of the Powers of Europe at the time of the Armenian massacres:-- Yea, if ye could not, though ye would, lift hand-- Ye halting leaders--to abridge Hell's reign. . . If such your plight, most hapless ye of men! _But if ye could and would not_, oh, what plea, Think ye, shall stead you at your trial, when The thundercloud of witnesses shall loom At the Assizes of Eternity? The application of these burning lines is painfully obvious. It would be a positive relief were it thinkable that the Eternal would, but cannot, stem the flood that rolls Hoarser with anguish as the ages roll; or if one might, with a modern novelist, compare the case to that of "a practitioner doing his best for a wilful patient, with poor appliances and indifferent nursing." _But if He could and will not--oh, what plea?_ What frankly appals men and freezes the worshipful instinct in their hearts is the {91} apparent Divine indifference, the silence of God, in the presence of so much human wretchedness. If one could only feel that He cared for and sympathised with His suffering creatures, it would be a help, like the sympathetic pressure of the hand from a friend, which does not lessen the actual calamity that may have befallen us, but makes it easier to bear; but an _indifferent_ God is equivalent to no God at all--or, as we have previously expressed it, a God who does not care, does not count. The mere sense that He was sorry for us would lighten the stroke of fate which He had not been able to avert; but if the truth is that He might have averted it by the simple exercise of His will, but refused to do so, coldly looking on at our grief--not from afar, but close by--then we can only say that no God at all were better than that. It seems, then, as though, in order to escape from palpable inconsistency between theory and fact, we should have to make a surrender either of His immanence, or His omnipotence, or His benevolence, or the reality of evil. To surrender the Divine immanence will not really solve our problem. Near or far, closer to us than breathing or dwelling beyond the furthest star, God is still the Author of our being, the Framer of the world and all that therein is, the Cause without which there would have been no effects. If, after creating the world, He withdrew from it to an inconceivable {92} distance, it is none the less His handiwork; if it is in and through His absence that the cosmic mechanism has got out of gear, it is yet He who willed to be so absent, well knowing what results would supervene; if a power other than He and hostile to Him has usurped the place and title of Prince of this world, such usurpation would have been impossible but for His acquiescence, and personified Evil, playing with human happiness, would still be His licensed agent. Evidently, the solution of which we are in search does not lie along that way. We turn, therefore, to the second possible explanation, strongly put forward by Mill, according to whom natural theology points to God as "a Being of great but limited power." Those who have been strengthened in goodness by relying on the sympathising support of a powerful and good Governor of the world (he says) have, I am satisfied, never really believed that Governor to be, in the strict sense of the term, omnipotent. They have always saved His goodness at the expense of His power. They have believed . . . that the world is inevitably imperfect, contrary to His intention.[1] To the question, "Of what nature is the limitation of His power?" he returns the tentative answer that it probably results either from the qualities of the material--the substances and forces of which the universe is composed not admitting of any arrangements by which His purposes could be more completely fulfilled; or else, the purposes might have been more fully attained, but the Creator did not know how to do it; creative {93} skill, wonderful as it is, was not sufficiently perfect to accomplish His purposes more thoroughly.[2] Such an answer, we need scarcely say, could only have been given by a thinker who had grown up in the intellectual atmosphere of Deism; the Deity which he contemplates is One who works upon the world purely _ab extra_, who cannot be spoken of as the Creator, except by courtesy; in reality He merely shapes and adapts materials over which He has only an incomplete control, and which, therefore, so far from having been called into being by Him, must be thought of as existing independently of Him. Had He really _created_ the raw material from which He was to frame the universe, He would of course have created some medium perfectly plastic to His hand and adapted to His purposes; but if He merely operates on matter from without, finding it stubborn and unamenable, He is only a secondary Deity or Demiurge, and we have still to answer the question, What is that real First Cause, the _Urgott_ who created the _Urstoff_, matter in its most elementary form, and endowed it with qualities some of which were destined to serve, while others resisted and frustrated, the sub-Divinity's intentions? Clearly, this notion also will not do; but while we may reject Mill's theory as to the _nature_ of the limitations of Divine power, there {94} is distinct force in his shrewd contention that religious people generally--professions to the contrary notwithstanding--have never really believed God to be, in the strict sense of the term, omnipotent. This contention we believe, indeed, to be almost self-evidently true; for on the contrary supposition nothing can happen contrary to God's will--all things and beings would necessarily be carrying out that will, and sin, _e.g._, would become an utterly meaningless term. But if omnipotence is limited--which sounds, we admit, a contradiction in terms--we ask once more, In what way and by whom? To that question we have no other reply than the one given in our first chapter, _viz._, that when we predicate limitation of the Deity, we must mean self-limitation. In creating the universe, we said, God made a distinction between His creation and Himself, and to that extent limited His Being--for the universe is not identical with God; we now add that in endowing man with an existence related to, but distinct from, His own, He limited not only His infinite Being, but also His infinite Power, delegating some portion thereof to us--for man's will is not identical with God's will, but capable of resisting, though also capable of co-operating with it. Without such individual initiative, without such an individual faculty of choosing between alternatives of action, man could never have been a moral agent; but moral liberty to choose and act aright or amiss implies also {95} moral responsibility for such choice on the part of the chooser. This neglected truth of God's self-limitation of His power needs to be far more explicitly avowed than has generally been the case. Only so shall we get clear of the confusion and uncertainty with which the subject of human freedom is so largely surrounded; only so shall we be enabled to place the burden of responsibility for sin, the cause of so immense a proportion of the world's suffering, upon the right shoulders--_i.e._, man's, not God's. It is urgently necessary to disperse the common fallacy according to which God, being the Author of all, is the causative Agent answerable for all the happenings in His universe, for all human pain and all human sin. Where freedom is, _there_ is responsibility. For let us bring the matter down from the abstract to the concrete: if a dreadful railway accident is caused through the momentary mental lapse of a signalman who has been overtaxed by excessive working hours, how is the responsibility God's? It obviously belongs to those who imposed a task involving the safety of human lives on a man who was not in a fit condition to fulfil such a duty. If an explosion in a coal-mine, accompanied by terrible loss of life, is caused through some miner striking a match, or carrying a naked light, in defiance of well-known regulations of safety, how is God responsible? He has endowed us with intelligence whereby to {96} discover His laws, and with freedom to obey or disobey them: the use or misuse of that freedom rests with ourselves. But now it may be asked--Was it the act of a benevolent Deity to entrust this terribly two-edged weapon of liberty to our unskilful hands, in which it was bound to work so vast an amount of injury? And this opens up the larger and more general question, Must we, in view of the facts of life, surrender the idea of the Divine benevolence? It is quite true that the evidence of purpose discernible in the whole structure of the universe proclaims the Deity to be personal; but, as Mr. Mallock says, "the theistic doctrine of God is not a doctrine that the supreme mind acts with purpose, but a doctrine that it acts with purpose of a highly specialised kind"--_viz._, _benevolent_ purpose. Let us once more state the problem in the partial but very pertinent form in which it arises in connection with man's faculty of freedom. To bestow upon His creatures a gift which He must have known they would use in such a manner as to work infinite harm to themselves and to each other, seems _prima facie_ no more compatible with kindly intentions than it would be to leave children to play with sharp tools, loaded firearms and deadly poisons; since disaster was bound to ensue from such a course, does not responsibility for the disaster rest with the one who deliberately provided the {97} elements for it? But such a comparison, while superficially plausible, upon reflection is seen to be beside the mark. We really cannot plead such inexperience of right and wrong, such ignorance of moral safety and moral danger, as would furnish a true parallel between playing with temptation and playing with cyanide of potassium. In setting before us "life and good, and death and evil," God has as distinctly placed within our hearts the moral intuition which, says, "Therefore choose life." But why, the questioner proceeds, have made sin even possible? Because, we answer, not to have done so would have made morality impossible. It cannot be too often, or too plainly, pointed out that just as the only alternative to purpose is chance, so the only alternative to liberty is necessity. That is to say, God could no doubt have made us automata instead of free agents; but even He could not have made us free to _choose_ the right, yet not free to choose its contrary. Choice that is not willed is not choice at all; goodness by compulsion is not goodness, but merely correctitude--the behaviour of a skilfully-devised mechanism, but possessing no _moral_ quality whatever. We are not at present concerned with the view of those who maintain that men are _de facto_ no more than such "cunning casts in clay" a contention which will occupy us at a later stage; we merely state the commonplace that in making us free God Himself could not also {98} make us impeccable, insusceptible to temptation, immune against the possibility of sin. The real question, then, shapes itself as follows: Can we discern the nature of the purpose which expresses itself in the bestowal of this gift of freedom? Stated in that form, we see that the question has already been answered by implication; for if there could be no morality without liberty, it is fair to make the inference that the very object of God in allowing us to choose between alternatives of conduct was to make morality so much as possible. Was that a good and beneficent object? We submit that even those who impeach the Deity for opening the door to sin would on second thoughts confess that morally free--and therefore peccable--beings stand on a higher level than marionettes, however faultlessly contrived to perform certain evolutions. The truth of the matter is set forth with poetic insight in Andersen's story of the Nightingale--the immeasurable difference between the artificial bird and the real songster, whose melodious raptures somehow touched a chord in the listener which all the nicely-calculated trills and cadences of the ingenious mechanical toy failed to set in motion. In like manner we repeat that the power to determine his own course raises man to a plane incomparably higher than he could have occupied as an automaton. The same faculty of free choice which in its abuse makes the sinner, in its right {99} exercise furnishes forth the saint. All that we mean by moral progress, by "the steady gain of man," his rise to more exalted ideals, his conquest of baser appetites--all that makes the history of the race a thrilling and uplifting drama--is bound up with his possession of liberty; it is this supreme gift which makes him "a little lower than the angels," and "crowns him with glory and honour." Alone of all earthly beings, man is not only an effect but a cause; his freedom--not unlimited but quite real within its not inelastic confines--is the noblest of all his faculties, even though for that very reason it is capable of being most ignobly perverted. What its bestowal tells us is that God does not call us into servitude, but to that service which is perfect freedom; He might have made us His playthings, as Plato suggested,[3] but by endowing us with the power to choose for ourselves He has made us His potential fellow-workers. May we not ask--Who, after all, would prefer the safety of automatism to the glory of this Divine adventure? In all this we are not shutting our eyes to what is involved in the misuse of liberty--the dread nature of wilful sin and its ghastly harvest of wrecked and ruined lives; we do not say that the price of freedom is not a heavy {100} one, nor do we pretend that the subject is free from painful mystery. It could not be otherwise; that we, with our limited vision and circumscribed understanding, should be able to solve that mystery with any completeness, is not even to be imagined. Nevertheless, we may claim that we have at least obtained a glimpse of the purpose of God in conferring upon the race this fateful power; for this and no other was the appointed means by which man was to ascend to his true place as a moral and spiritual being. If we can admit that purpose to be in harmony with the Divine benevolence, we may the more hopefully turn to other aspects of our problem. [1] _Three Essays on Religion_, p. 22. [2] _Ibid_, p. 79. [3] _The Laws_, vii, 803: [Greek] "Theou ti paignion memechanmenon." Compare also Browning's unhappy phrase, "God, whose puppets, best and worst, are we." {101} CHAPTER VII EVIL _versus_ DIVINE GOODNESS (_Continued_) There is probably no more serious aspect of the popular philosophy which declares so confidently, "There is no will that is not God's will," than that, while professing to be a Gospel of sweetness and light, it in reality plunges us into the very depths of pessimism by making God Himself "ultimately responsible for all the evil and suffering in the world." From such a position, from such premises as these, there is only one step to such conclusions as have been actually drawn:-- It is His world, remember; He made it, and He is omnipotent. . . If creation does not please the Creator, why did He not make it better? If it is wayward and intractable, it can be no more than He expected, or ought to have expected. Wherein consists His right to punish us for our transgressions? Suppose we challenge it; what will He say in defence? We may shrink with distaste from such wild and whirling words; but if it be true that "there is no will that is not God's will"--if whatever takes place in the universe expresses that almighty will--they are as rational in their very vehemence as Omar's lines are rational in their melancholy:-- {102} O Thou, who didst with pitfall and with gin Beset the Road I was to wander in, Thou wilt not with Predestin'd Evil round Enmesh, and then impute my Fall to Sin! O Thou, who man of baser Earth didst make, And ev'n with Paradise devise the Snake: For all the Sin wherewith the Face of Man Is blacken'd--Man's forgiveness give--and take! It is only when we clearly recognise that man is other than a mere phase or mode of the one Eternal Being; that he has been endowed with individual existence and individual will, and therefore with individual responsibility--and that for the express purpose of realising his highest potentialities: it is only when we accept such a reading of the facts as this that we escape from that worst of nightmares which reaches its climax in hurling its foolish defiance at the Most High, challenging His right to punish the instruments of His own will, those "helpless pieces of the game He plays," impotent items in that unending spectacle-- Which for the pastime of Eternity He doth Himself contrive, enact, behold. But if it is true that God bestowed freedom upon us because only as free agents could we learn to love and do the right for its own sake; if it is true that the struggle which we have to wage against our lower impulses has the wholly benevolent object of enabling us to achieve the glory of a perfected character, it has also to be borne in mind that under no {103} circumstances can character be conceived otherwise than as the "result" of growth. That is to say, God Himself could not call moral perfection into being ready-made, by a mere _fiat_, and that for the same reason which precludes omnipotence itself from making two straight lines to enclose a space, _i.e._, because the idea involves a self-contradiction. So true is this that we read even of our Saviour that "though He was a Son, yet He learned obedience by the things which He suffered," and in this manner was "made perfect." Character in its very definition is the result of many deliberate exercises of a free will; and if the evolution of character was an object dearer to God than the highest mechanical or animal perfection, that object could have been secured in no other way than by this particular endowment. And here we shall also find the reply to the very natural inquiry why God does not, as He might, intervene or frustrate the evil designs of wrong-doers. Why does a good God allow His intentions to be set at defiance by those whom the prophet described as drawing iniquity with cords of vanity, and sin as it were with a cart rope? It would not matter so much, we sometimes bitterly reflect, if the sinner injured only himself by his wickedness; but how often are the innocent made to suffer by the devices of the unscrupulous and selfish! Why, we repeat, this strange non-intervention of the Most High on behalf of His own cause? {104} On this it must be remarked in the first place that those who accept God's transcendence will be careful not to rule out _a priori_ the possibility of such Divine action as, regarded from our point of view, would have to be described as intervention; the question whether such action has ever taken place, is a question of fact, and the view that at particular junctures God has thus actively "intervened" is at any rate capable of being strongly argued. But admitting, as we think we must, that ordinary life does not show any instances of such supernatural interposition--that a reckless financier is allowed to enrich himself by cornering the wheat supply and sending up the price of the people's bread; that a band of reactionaries may arrest the course of reform and plunge a country back into darkness; that a beneficent act of the legislature may be defeated by greedy cunning--must we despair of solving the general problem which such cases suggest? We think, on the contrary, that the explanation may be legitimately sought in what we conceive to have been the Divine intention in making man free; that intention, the making of character, would obviously suffer defeat by God throwing His weight--if we may use such a phrase--into this scale as against that, furthering here and checking there, for character, as we just said, can only result from the free exercise and interplay of will with will. We may well imagine God's mode of action to {105} resemble that of a human parent who entrusts a growing child with a growing measure of liberty and responsibility, well knowing that in the use of it he will have many a slip and stumble, and occasionally hurt himself; such a parent will carefully refrain from interference, preferring that the child should learn his own lessons from his own mistakes, well knowing that we profit only by the experience for which we ourselves have paid. No one will, of course, pretend that such a reconciliation of the facts of sin with the axiom or intuition of Divine all-goodness is other than incomplete; we merely urge that, having regard to the magnitude and the complexity of the subject it could not be otherwise. A theory, without accounting for all the facts, may be true so far as it goes, correctly indicating the way which, if we could pursue it further, would lead us into more and fuller truth. No doubt, when that which is perfect is come, that which is in part will be done away; but pending the advent of a complete explanation, a partial one is not without all value. Indeed, the very inadequacy of our instruments, resulting in that incompleteness of which we just spoke, should once more suggest a reflection which, while in no wise original or startling, is specially relevant to the subject under discussion: for if God's knowledge necessarily and immeasurably transcends ours, if He knows _more_ than we, does it not follow {106} with equal certainty that He knows _better_? Granted that we do not understand how this or that dispensation of Providence fits in with the general belief in His perfect goodness, our failure to understand no more disproves that goodness than the similar failure of a child to comprehend why such and such irksome tasks are imposed upon him by his parent, disproves the wisdom and goodness which prompt the parent's act. The child _cannot_ understand; but where the relations are at all normal he acquiesces, being on general grounds convinced that the parental commands aim at his welfare, and that his parents, after all, know better than he. Is the application so far to seek? In the second place--turning now from the subject of sin to that of evil generally--it may be worth while to remind ourselves of a fact which seems to be forgotten by some of the impetuous arraigners of the Deity, _viz._, that, after all, the problem is not a new one, which they have suddenly discovered by dint of superior sagacity. What we mean is this: the problem of evil as such is of anything but an abstruse or remote nature, nor one requiring unusual philosophical penetration to bring to light; on the contrary, pain and sorrow, privation, adversity, death--these are experiences that have come within the cognisance of all. If, then, the facts are neither so remote nor so inconsiderable that men could have simply {107} forgotten to take them into account in framing their estimates of the Divine character, how is it, we ask, that they have arrived at and clung to the belief in the benevolence of God at all? If the proof to the contrary was so overpowering, why, as a matter of fact, has it _not_ overpowered them? Why should an unknown Hebrew singer have given expression to this extraordinary sentiment, "Though He slay me, yet will I trust in Him"--and why has that sentiment been re-echoed by millions of men and women acquainted with grief and affliction? The early Christians did not exactly live lives of luxury or even security, sheltered from contact with tragedy and horror; yet the keynote of primitive Christianity is the note of joy, while the background of early Christian experience is a radiant conviction of the Divine benevolence. And when we remember that the same holds true of so many eminently spiritual souls in all ages, who have combined a keen sensitiveness to evil and suffering of every kind with an unshakeable trust in the lovingkindness of God, we shall scarcely accuse all this cloud of witnesses of having simply drugged themselves and refused to accept the evidence of their own senses. If men and women suffering from anything rather than moral blindness or moral anaesthesia could, and can, nevertheless believe with all their hearts in the Divine Fatherhood, is not such a recurring circumstance significant in itself? {108} Evidently, granting all the facts, more than one reading of the facts is possible; not cloistered mystics, or anchorites withdrawn from the world, but heroes engaged in fighting its ills, have steadfastly proclaimed that God is good; is it an altogether unreasonable hypothesis that their faith, if it outsoars ours, may be the result of a deeper insight? And this, in turn, suggests another thought, simple enough in itself, yet not always borne in mind in connection with this particular theme--_viz._, that we are never dealing with facts _per se_, but with facts _plus_ our interpretation of them, which may be right or wrong, but which, right or wrong, helps to decide in a very large measure what the facts themselves shall mean to us. Our attitude towards the events which befall us makes all the difference. If men have been ruined by success, it is as true that men have been made by failure. If men have deteriorated through ease and plenty, men have been stimulated to effort through hardship and poverty. In a word, if there is much in the burden, there is as much in the shouldering. But for Dante's consecration of sorrow, the world would have lost the _Commedia Divina_. But for a painful and permanently disabling accident, the English Labour Movement would not have had one of its principal leaders in Mr. Philip Snowden. And as for the influence of outward events and environment generally, Mr. Chesterton may exaggerate in {109} suggesting that everything good has been snatched from some catastrophe, but he is certainly right when he says that "the most dangerous environment of all is the commodious environment." On the other hand, of an environment the reverse of commodious, it has been observed:-- Logic would seem to say, "If God brings great pain on a man, it must make the man revolt against God." But observation of facts compels us to say, "No, on the contrary, nothing exercises so extraordinary an influence in making men love God as the suffering of great pain at His hands." Scientific thinking deals with facts as they are, not with _a priori_ notions of what we should expect. And in this matter, the fact as it is, is that goodness is evolved from pain more richly than from any other source.[1] We may think such a statement too absolute, and point to cases where the effect of physical suffering has been altogether different; but if it is true that in certain well-authenticated and not merely exceptional instances such visitations have resulted in strengthened faith and heightened goodness, our main contention is proved, namely, that the attitude of the individual himself towards the events of his life has much to do with determining what those events are to mean to him. Instead of "Was the gift good?" we should more often ask, "Was the recipient wise?" Pain is pain, and disaster is disaster; but the spirit in which we meet them matters immensely. {110} But now we are confronted with a more fundamental question: Could not God have obviated the phenomenon of pain altogether? Could He not have made us incapable of feeling any but pleasant sensations? Mill, who in his essay on _Nature_ devotes some--for him--almost vehement pages to this subject, reaches the conclusion that "the only admissible moral theory of Creation is that the Principle of Good _cannot_ at once and altogether subdue the powers of evil" [2]; and in dealing with the same topic in the essay on _Theism_, while admitting that "appearances do not indicate that contrivance was brought into play purposely to produce pain," he holds to the view that its very existence shows the power of God to be limited _ab extra_, by the material conditions under which He works:-- The author of the machinery is no doubt accountable for having made it susceptible to pain; but this may have been a necessary condition of its susceptibility to pleasure; a supposition which avails nothing on the theory of an omnipotent Creator, but is an extremely probable one in the case of a Contriver working under the limitation of inexorable laws and indestructible properties of matter.[3] Such a view of the case, as we have already said in our previous chapter, is purely deistic; but we must now proceed to point out, with great respect for so great an intellect as Mill's, that the supposition which, he says, "avails nothing {111} on the theory of an omnipotent Creator"--_viz._, that susceptibility to pleasure involves susceptibility to pain--seems to us to fit and cover the facts precisely; for a capacity for pain and a capacity for pleasure are not two different things which could conceivably exist apart from each other, but are only different manifestations of one and the same capacity, _viz._, for experiencing sensations of any kind whatsoever. We could no more be capable of feeling pleasure, while _in_capable of feeling pain, than we could be sensitive to musical harmonies, while _in_sensible to musical discords; besides which, monotony of sensation annihilates sensation. On this point we may invoke against the pre-evolutionist Mill a modern scientific authority like Professor Fiske, who expresses himself to the effect that "without the element of antagonism there could be no consciousness, and therefore no world." "It is not a superficial but a fundamental truth," he observes, "that if there were no colour but red, it would be exactly the same thing as if there were no colour at all. . . If our ears were to be filled with one monotonous roar of Niagara, unbroken by alien sounds, the effect upon consciousness would be absolute silence. If our palates had never come in contact with any tasteful thing save sugar, we should know no more of sweetness than of bitterness. If we had never felt physical pain, we could not recognise physical pleasure. For {112} want of the contrasted background, its pleasurableness would cease to exist. . . We are thus brought to a striking conclusion, the essential soundness of which cannot be gainsaid. _In a happy world there must be sorrow and pain._" [4] And this necessity, we would add, does not follow from God's failure to overcome any "inexorable laws and indestructible properties _of matter_," but is implied in the inexorable laws _of thought_--in that eternal right reason which makes it impossible for Deity to do what is self-contradictory or absurd. But if the necessity of pain be thus admitted--a most important admission--we may now take a step further ahead. Even Mill, as we just saw, expressly disclaimed the notion of attributing physical evil to malign intention on the Creator's part; what separates us from Mill is that in our view the laws of nature, in inflicting pain, do not act independently of God, but are His laws. Do those, it may be asked, who allege His "indifference" in not interfering with the operation of the forces of nature when they injure us, frame a very clear notion of the way in which they think that God should, or might, manifest His "interest"? On reflection it will be found that what they ask for--the only possible alternative to an unbroken natural order--is such constant miraculous interposition as would make that order non-existent. But assuming that there {113} were no regular sequence or uniformity to speak of--if we never knew whether the course of nature might not be interrupted at any moment on somebody's behalf--should we really be so much better off? Would humanity be happier if chaos was substituted for order? Without seeking to mitigate the suffering entailed by the unhindered action of nature's forces, it is still certain that the sheer confusion of a world in which law had been abrogated would be infinitely worse. Indeed, this is to understate the case; for the fact is that in such a world all the activities of life would be completely paralysed, and hence life itself, as we have already had occasion to point out, could not be carried on. But if the reign of natural law thus represents the only set of conditions under which life is even possible; and if at the same time this law, which operates all the time and never relaxes its hold, is the expression of the will of God, how can we charge Him with indifference? The truth is, on the contrary, that He is exercising His care, not intermittently, by performing a miracle whenever things go wrong, but continually, and without any interruption whatsoever. Were His law other than steadfast, were there occasional or frequent departures from it, were it possible to defy nature with impunity just now and again, the results of such irregular action would be disastrous in the extreme; it is because His will is constant, and His decrees without {114} variableness, that we are able to learn and obey them, and by obeying to master nature. "But, after all, He made the laws, and He could have made different ones." Certainly; but a moment's reflection will show that He could not have made laws of _any_ kind, disobedience to which would have had the same consequences as obedience. He might--for all we can say to the contrary--have made strychnine nutritious, and wheat deadly to us; but even in that case an indulgence in wheat would have brought about the unpleasant effects at present associated with an overdose of _nux vomica_. He might have made a raw, damp atmosphere, with easterly winds, the most conducive to health; but even then it would have been rash to take up one's residence in a warm, dry climate. Pain is an indication that the processes of life are suffering some more or less serious disturbance; given, therefore, any set of natural laws, and the necessity of obeying them as the condition of life itself, and we see that disobedience to them would always and inevitably mean pain. We repeat that God might have made different laws; but whatever they were, their breach must have recoiled upon the breaker. Yet even if reflections like these demonstrate to us the necessity for pain, we are still left to face those greater calamities and disasters which sweep away human lives by the hundred and thousand, catastrophes like the Sicilian {115} earthquakes, that are marked by an appalling wantonness of destruction; must not such events as these also be attributed to God, and how are they to be reconciled with His alleged benevolence? Certainly, no one would attempt to minimise the horrors of the Sicilian tragedy; the human mind is overwhelmed by the suddenness, no less than the magnitude, of an upheaval of nature resulting in the blotting-out of whole flourishing communities. And yet we venture to say, paradoxical though it sounds, that it is, partly at least, owing to a certain lack of imagination that such an event looms so immense in our thoughts. Most of us do not make the ordinance of death in itself an accusation against the Most High; we are not specially shocked or outraged by the thought that the whole population of the globe dies out within quite a moderate span of time, nor even by the reflection that several hundred thousand persons die every year in the United Kingdom alone. We know quite well that every one of those who perished in Messina must have paid his debt to nature in, at most, a few decades. So, then, the whole point in our arraignment is this--It would not have been cruel had these deaths been spread over a period of time, but it is cruel that they should have taken place simultaneously; it would not have been cruel had the victims of the earthquake died of illnesses--in many cases prolonged and painful--but it is cruel {116} that death should have come upon them swiftly, instantaneously, without menace or lingering pain; it would not have been cruel had children survived to mourn their parents, husbands their wives, brother the loss of brother, as in the ordinary course--but it is cruel that by dying in the same hour they were spared the pang of parting. We repeat that it is because we ordinarily use our imaginations too little that we are so apt to lose our balance and sense of proportion in the presence of these catastrophes; and it may be permissible to point out that there is probably, quality for quality, and quantity for quantity, more grey, hopeless suffering, more wretchedness and tragedy, in London to-day than was caused by the Sicilian catastrophe--suffering and wretchedness that are due not to nature, but to sin, though not necessarily on the sufferer's part. And there is, in justice, something more to be said when we speak of these dire visitations. While every instinct of humanity inspires us with sympathy for the victims buried under the ruins of Messina and Reggio, it is, of course, a matter of common knowledge that the soil on those coasts is volcanic, and liable to such commotions; if men will take the risk of living in such localities, we may pity them when the disaster comes, but we cannot very fitly impeach Providence. There is a village near Chur in Switzerland, which has twice been wiped out by avalanches, yet each time re-built {117} on the same spot; year by year material is visibly accumulating for a third deadly fall, and when it takes place, as take place it will, men will speak of the dispassionate cruelty of nature. Time after time the lava from Mount Vesuvius has overwhelmed the localities that nestle on its slopes, but human heedlessness proves incurable. If the Sicilians, knowing the nature of the soil, had built their towns of isolated, one-storied, wooden structures, at a reasonable distance from the shore, the effects of earthquake and tidal wave would not have been one hundredth part as terrible; yet Messina is being re-built on its former site, and apparently in the old style of architecture--a proceeding which simply invites a repetition of the same kind of disaster. It is literally true that these greater calamities are in nearly every instance capable of being averted or their incidence minimised; to give an obvious instance, one is almost weary of seeing it repeated that the famines and consequent epidemics which visit India could be immensely reduced by a wise and generous expenditure on irrigation, the improved cultivation of the land, the enlargement of the cultivable area, and so forth. But men find it easier to turn accusing glances to the sky than to bestir themselves and to use more wisdom, foresight and energy in directing and subduing the forces of nature. We are well aware that what has been written in the pages of this chapter is no {118} more than a series of scattered hints; we do not for a moment imagine that, in the aggregate, they amount to more than a most fragmentary resolution of the difficulty presented by the reality of evil--indeed, we have already expressed our belief that a full solution must in the nature of things lie beyond our ken. But if it should appear from the foregoing considerations that some aspects of our problem--such as the existence of sin and of pain--are not as irreconcilable with the goodness of God as may have seemed to be the case, reflection should lead us to the reasonable hope that if we understood more, we should receive fuller and fuller proof of the truth that God is Love. And when we remember that that Love shines out most brightly from the Cross, and that the world's greatest tragedy has been the world's greatest blessing, the turning-point in the history of the race, we may well hush our impatience, refrain over-confident criticisms, and commit ourselves to the Father's hands even while we can only see His purposes as in a glass, darkly. We may believe, with the psalmist of old, that by and by we "shall behold His face in _righteousness_; we shall be satisfied, when we awake, with His likeness." [1] R. A. Armstrong, _God and the Soul_, pp. 161-162. [2] _Op. cit._, p. 21. [3] _Ibid_, p. 82. [4] _Through Nature to God_, pp. 36, 37. {119} CHAPTER VIII THE DENIAL OF EVIL We closed our last chapter with a confession and an appeal--a confession of the incompleteness of our answers to the questions suggested by the fact of evil, and an appeal for patience in recognising that that incompleteness is inevitable, having regard to our constitutional limitations. "There is," as Newman said, "a certain grave acquiescence in ignorance, a recognition of our impotence to solve momentous and urgent questions, which has a satisfaction of its own." [1] That, however, is an attitude to which all will not resign themselves. If a knot cannot be unravelled, their one idea of what to do is to cut it; if evil cannot be explained, it can at any rate be denied. Thus we find a distinguished living essayist, with a large constituency of cultured readers, writing as follows:-- The essence of God's omnipotence is that both law and matter are His and originate from Him; so that if a single fibre of what we know to be evil can be found in the world, either God is responsible for that, or He is {120} dealing with something He did not originate and cannot overcome. Nothing can extricate us from this dilemma, except that what we think evil is not really evil at all, but hidden good. If the views of Divine power and responsibility set forth in this book are true--if, _i.e._, we are justified in having recourse to a theory of Divine self-limitation--it will be clear that Mr. Benson's "dilemma" is, to say the least, overstated; but were that dilemma as desperate as he depicts it, it has strangely escaped him that his suggested mode of extrication is more desperate still. For what he asks us to do is quite simply to abdicate our judgment in respect of both physical and ethical phenomena--not merely to withhold our decision upon this or that particular occurrence, but to admit in general terms that evil is only apparent and not real. But see to what such an admission commits us: if we have no grounds for saying that evil is evil, we can have no grounds either for saying that good is good; if our faculties are incompetent to diagnose the one kind of phenomena accurately, they cannot be any more competent to diagnose and deliver reliable verdicts upon the other kind. It is quite a mistake to think that by getting rid of the reality of evil we preserve or affirm the more emphatically the reality of good; if we confidently pronounce our experience of evil an illusion, what value can there attach to our finding that our {121} experience of its opposite is a fact? Such is the Nemesis which waits on remedies of the "heroic" order. Nevertheless this particular remedy seems to be enjoying a considerable popularity at the present time; indeed, in discussing some aspects of the doctrine which affirms the "allness" of God, and the allied one of Monism, we have already seen that where these are professed, evil must be explicitly or implicitly denied. This denial is common to the various confused movements--all of them the outcome of a misconceived idealism--which under the names of "New Thought," "Higher Thought," "Joy Philosophy," "Christian Science," etc., etc., find their disciples chiefly amongst that not inconsiderable section of the public which has been aptly described as dominated by a "longing to combine a picturesque certainty devoid of moral discipline with unlimited transcendental speculations." All these cults combine a vague optimism with an extravagant subjectivity; all would have us believe that so far from things being what they are, they are whatever we may think them to be; all with one accord treat evil in its various manifestations as unreal, and maintain, as it has been neatly phrased, that "the process of cure lies in the realisation that there is nothing to be cured." The attraction of such a doctrine for that large number of persons who dislike strenuous effort--either intellectual or {122} moral--is easily accounted for. Evil as a fact is not conducive to the comfort of those who contemplate it--how pleasant to be told that it exists only in disordered imaginations; the sense of sin has always interfered with the enjoyment of life--what a relief to learn that it is merely a chimaera; pain is grievous indeed--what benefactors are those who teach us how to conjure it away by the simple process of declaring that there is no such thing! A creed promising to accomplish such desirable objects could be sure of votaries, if proclaimed with sufficient _aplomb_; here, we may surmise, is the main explanation of the welcome given to those monistic ethics to which we referred in an earlier chapter, and of the vogue of so-called "Christian Science," which invites consideration as the most typical and important of a whole group of movements. We repeat that the nature of the Christian Science appeal largely explains the rapid spread of this cult. Christian Science is quite unlike other religions in this, that while they promise at most salvation--an intangible boon--Mrs. Eddy promises her followers _health_, relief from bodily pain and sickness, and thus addresses herself to a universally and urgently felt want. A merely spiritual message may fail to obtain listeners; but--to state the truth baldly--a person need not be particularly spiritually-minded in order to be drawn towards Christian Science. The natural man would much rather {123} be made well than made good, and a creed which professes to be able to do the former will touch him in his most sensitive part. Certainly, this was one of the difficulties of Christ's public ministry, _viz._, that the people flocked to Him to be cured rather than to be taught. But while He declined to place the emphasis on His works of healing--while He left Capernaum by Himself before sunrise in order to escape the importunities of the mob, and refused Peter's request that He should return thither with the words, "Let us go elsewhere into the next towns that I may preach there also; for to _this_ end came I forth"--Christian Science addresses its sure appeal to man's material nature. The contrast is significant. And yet the true essence of Christian Science is not "faith-healing" in the ordinary sense. It does not say, _e.g._, "Here is a case of genuine, unmistakeable rheumatism or consumption, but faith is able to dispel it"; on the contrary, it says, "This alleged rheumatism or consumption is a mere illusion, a phantasm of the imagination; and the way to be cured is for the 'patient' to discover his mistake. There are no maladies--there are only _malades imaginaires_." Mrs. Eddy states in plain words that "Mortal ills are but errors of thought" [2]; it is from this point of view that Christian Science as a system has to be approached and understood. {124} With the fantastic exegesis of Scripture on which this creed professes to be based, we are not directly concerned; else something might be said of the method of interpretation which is to be found in the official text-book of the movement--a method which sees in the serpent the symbol of malicious animal magnetism, which identifies the Holy Ghost and the New Jerusalem with Christian Science, and the little book brought down from heaven by the mighty angel with Mrs. Eddy's own _magnum opus_, _Science and Health_. As Mr. Podmore drily remarks, "In these holy games each player is at liberty to make words mean what he wants them to mean"; at the same time, these grotesque and arbitrary constructions are not precisely calculated to inspire the confidence of balanced minds. Let us, however, turn at once to the fundamental axioms of Christian Science:-- (1) God is All in all. (2) God is Good. Good is Mind. (3) God, Spirit, being all, nothing is matter. (4) Life, God, Omnipotent Good, deny death, evil, sin, disease. In other words, Christian Science begins--and, for the matter of that, ends--with the categorical statement that the one and only Reality is Mind, Goodness, God, all three of which terms it uses synonymously and interchangeably. So much being granted, the rest follows "in a concatenation according"; the {125} possible permutations are many--the result is always one. _God is All_: hence, says Mrs. Eddy, "_All is God_, and there is naught beside Him"; but _God is Good_, and as He is _All_, it follows that _All is Good_; and if all is good, _there can be no evil_. Again, Mrs. Eddy propounds the following three propositions: _God is Mind; Good is Mind; All is Mind_; therefore, once more, all is good, all is God, and _there can be no evil_. Or, to introduce another variation--_God is All_, and _God is Mind_; therefore _Mind is all_; therefore _there is no matter_. Grant the Christian Science premises, and there is no escaping the Christian Science conclusions. But do we grant these premises--do we grant Mrs. Eddy's fundamental pantheistic assumption of "the allness of God" [3]? We have shown again and again why we do not; and with the rejection of the basal tenet of Christian Science the superstructure follows. But now let us show how all Mrs. Eddy's juggling with words, all her assertions of the goodness of all and the allness of good, do not help her to get rid of evil. Granting for argument's sake that Mind is the only reality, then the test of reality must be this--that something exists in or for a mind; in so far, {126} then, as evil, pain, and so forth exist, as Christian Science tells us, "only" in some mind--in so far as "disease is a thing of thought" [4]--evil, pain, disease, etc., must _pro tanto_ be real, nay, the most real of realities, for where except in mind could they exist? And even if we can successfully annihilate them by denying their existence, whence did they come in the first place? From "malicious animal magnetism"? But if God is All in all, and All-good, what is that malicious animal magnetism which is somehow not God and not good? Does not this whole tangle serve yet once more to illustrate the futility of that doctrine of Divine allness which we have seen successfully masquerading as Divine immanence? Let us test the worth of these speculations in yet another way. Christian Science declares evil to be non-existent, illusory, an "error of thought." But that which is true of a species must be true of all its genera; if all men are mortal, and Socrates is a man, it follows that Socrates is mortal; if evil as a whole is nonexistent, that which applies to the general phenomenon must equally apply to each and all of its manifestations. But error is undoubtedly a form, and even a serious form, of evil; from which it would follow that if evil is not real, error is not possible--and in that case one opinion is as good as its opposite, and black and white are only different {127} descriptions of the same thing. But if that is so, if one thing is as true as another, we shall conclude that, _e.g._, the rejection of Christian Science is no more erroneous than its affirmation. Will Christian Scientists acquiesce in that inference? And if they will not, by what means do they propose to show that it is not a legitimate deduction from their own axiom, the unreality of evil? If error is a real fact, evil must be so to that extent; on the other hand, how can it be an error to believe that evil is real, if error, being an evil, must itself be illusory? But it is time we turned from our examination of the principles of Christian Science to their application. So far as the wholesale declaration of the illusoriness of physical evil--the ravages and tortures of disease--is concerned, the implicit belief extended to the pretensions of this creed to master all such ills is proof, if proof were wanted, of the success which rewards those who act on the maxim, "_de l'audace, toujours de l'audace_!" Given the right kind and amount of faith, we are assured, Christian Science treatment will prove effective in a case of double pneumonia, or compound fracture, or malignant tumour, without the assistance of the physician--above all, without "drugs," which are pronounced _taboo_ by Mrs. Eddy; "and that," to quote Mr. Podmore again, "is a postulate which can never be contradicted by experience, for failure can always be {128} ascribed--as it is, in fact, ascribed by the Christian Scientist to-day--to want of faith or 'Science' on the part of the sufferer." Nothing could be more entirely simple or unanswerable: if the patient improves or recovers, the credit goes to Christian Science; if he gets worse or dies, the unfortunate result is debited to his lack of faith. The only thing Christian Science fails to answer is, as we have already seen, the preliminary question, _viz._, what caused the disease--or at any rate the semblance, the malignant hallucination of disease--in the first instance. If God is all and all is God; if God is Mind and there is nothing but Mind; if all therefore is mind and all is good--whence in a good Mind comes even the hallucination of pain and evil? "The thoughts of the practitioner," says Mrs. Eddy, "should be imbued with a clear conviction of the omnipotence and omnipresence of God; . . . and hence, that whatever militates against health . . . is an unjust usurper of the throne of the Controller of all mankind." [5] But if God is omnipresent, His presence must be displayed in the disease; if He is omnipotent, how can there be a usurper on His throne? If He is All, how can there be aught beside Him? These are points on which we wait in vain for enlightenment from the Boston mysteriarch. {129} We shall be told, however, that whatever flaws there may be in the theory of Christian Science, this cult could not possibly have obtained its vogue if it were all promise and no performance; and as a matter of fact, testimonies to the curative effect of the treatment abound, furnished by those who say they have been restored to health by these methods, and as convincing as such testimony can be. We use the latter phrase advisedly; it is impossible to read these documents without being convinced of the entire good faith of the writers in relating what they themselves believe to be true; it is impossible not to be convinced by the perusal of their accounts that cures of some sort took place: the one thing of which it is possible to remain quite unconvinced is the fundamental contention of Christian Science, _viz._, that there was no disease to be cured. Speaking quite generally, if one is going to be impressed by testimonials there is of course, no patent pill of respectable advertising power which cannot produce such by the wastepaper-basketful; and perfectly sincere and unsolicited testimonials, too. What these prove, however, is neither that the patients have been cured of the particular diseases they may name--and in the diagnosis of which they may very likely be mistaken--nor above all that it is the taking of a particular preparation to which they owe their cures; they prove the enormous power of suggestion and auto-suggestion, in {130} virtue of which many ailments yield to the patient's firm assurance that by following a certain course he will get better. Everyone knows that a manner which inspires confidence, a happy blend of cheerfulness and suave authority, is of at least equal value to a physician as his skill and diplomas; and it is probably true, approximately at any rate, that a man can no more be cured of a serious illness unless he believes in his curability, than he can be hypnotised against his will. But between the recognition of such a fact, and the description of a cancer as an obstinate illusion, or a crushed limb as an "error of thought," there is just the difference which separates sanity from extravaganza. In short, that which is of truth in Christian Science is not peculiar to it; while what is peculiar to its teaching, the denial of the reality of shattered legs, wasted lungs, diseased spines, etc., is not true. The power of mind over body, the possibility of healing certain diseases by suggestion, is not the discovery of Mrs. Eddy; the assumption on the other hand, that _all_ diseases are susceptible to such treatment is characteristic of the school of which she is the latest and best-known representative--only it is false. "All physicians of broad practice and keen observation realise that certain pains may be alleviated or cured, and that certain morbid conditions may be made to disappear, provided a change in the mental {131} state of the patient can be brought about. . . . It does not require special learning to build up a psychotherapeutic practice based upon the observation of such cases; and the Christian Science healers, narrowly educated and of narrow experience, have done just this thing, resting upon the theory that the mental influence of the healer is the effective curative agent. It is easy to see how a development of this theory would lead to the assumption that all kinds of diseases may be curable by mental influence emanating from a healer, this leading to the practice of the so-called 'absent-treatment,' with all its follies and dangers." [6] When it is added that the Christian Science healer is a professional person, and that the cost of "absent-treatment" may come to as much as ten dollars an hour, we need say no more about the "dangers" alluded to.[7] That the quasi-religious formulas of Christian Science may prove extremely effective in bringing about such a change in the mental state of certain patients as will cause pains {132} to be alleviated or cured, and morbid conditions to disappear, one need have no hesitation in believing; moreover, as the medical author just quoted acutely observes, it is quite possible that some patients would not be cured unless they were "allowed to believe that their cures are due to some mysterious or miraculous agency." But even such an admission does not mean that Christian Science does more than apply the principle of suggestion, increasing its efficacy by utilising the religious faculty of the patient; nor, above all, does it give countenance to the root-contention of the creed, _viz._, that pain and disease are unreal. Once more, if mind be the only reality, then pain, seeing that it can only be experienced by a mind, is real in exact proportion as it is intense. It might seem unnecessary to add anything more to what has been said in refutation of the claims of Christian Science so far as physical healing is concerned; but one or two very simple considerations will complete our case without greatly detaining us. In stating categorically and without qualification that "mortal ills are but errors of thought," Mrs. Eddy seems to have overlooked two classes of patients to whom it would be somewhat difficult to apply this sweeping generalisation. We wonder, for instance, how this theory could be made to cover the large category of infantile ailments. How, we are {133} entitled to ask, would Christian Science deal with the teething-troubles which attend babyhood? Is it seriously suggested that a feverish, wailing child is merely the victim of an hallucination--and how would the Christian Scientist undertake to convince him of his illusion? On the face of it, such an enterprise does not look hopeful. But further, it so happens that human beings are not the only sufferers from pain and sickness; animals are subject to diseases, and often to the same diseases as men. We disclaim all intention of treating the subject otherwise than seriously--but if a man's rheumatism is an illusion, what causes the same affection in a dog or a chimpanzee? And if an embrocation may be used with good effects in the latter case, why may it not be used in the former? We need not press these questions; they will serve as they stand to show once more how this whole pretentious philosophy about the unreality, the imaginary nature, of pain breaks down as soon as we subject it to simple tests. So also with the Christian Science attitude towards "drugs," the prescribing of which Mrs. Eddy places in the same category as the denial of God.[8] An obvious comment suggests itself: If drugs cannot cure, it follows that they cannot hurt; will some adherent to this teaching show his consistency in the faith by swallowing a small, but sufficient quantity {134} of oxalic acid? And so, finally, with Mrs. Eddy's singularly futile question, "As power divine is in the healer, why should mortals concern themselves with the chemistry of food?" [9] Without unkindliness, one feels tempted to reply that this kind of language will begin to be convincing when Christian Scientists show their readiness and ability to sustain life on substances chemically certified to be without nutritive properties. But it is not its denial of physical evil that makes this and allied movements a real menace; dissent as we may from the Christian Science theory of bodily illness, and deplore as we must the fatal results of which we read every now and again when a patient has been persuaded to substitute the Christian Science "healer" for the trained physician--these results concern, to put it rather bluntly, no one but the sufferer and his immediate friends. But when we remarked that the natural man desired to be made well rather than to be made good, we were not merely thinking of one side of Christian Science teaching; we were bearing in mind that the author of _Science and Health_ declares the illusoriness of pain only as part of the illusoriness of all evil, moral as well as physical. _Christian Science explicitly denies the reality of sin: and that denial follows with inexorable logic from its first principle--that {135} God is All, and All is Good_. And here rather than in the material domain lies the danger we have to face; this is the side of Mrs. Eddy's doctrine which, the moment it is attractively presented to, and grasped by, half-educated and unstable minds, will, we fear, exercise a fatal fascination over large numbers. For one person who will seriously persuade himself that there is no matter, or that his sore throat is imaginary, there will be a number to welcome the good tidings that what they had hitherto regarded as sin wears in reality no such sinister complexion--that, as Mrs. Eddy openly states, _what seems "vice" is to be explained as "illusions of the physical senses_." That is precisely what every sinner would like to believe. "I have done that, says my memory. I cannot have done that, says my pride, and remains obdurate. In the end, my memory gives in." So wrote Nietzsche, keenly and cynically observant of his kind. As a matter of fact, men would give almost anything to be able to convince themselves that they "have not done that"--not necessarily from pride, but in order to be rid of shame, of remorse, of self-contempt; will not many of them only too eagerly accept this fatal anodyne when it is offered to them in the pretended name of religion? We have but one comment to urge, one protest to make. It has taken long ages to develop and heighten man's sensitiveness to {136} the distinction between good and evil; we say with the most solemn emphasis that anything calculated to dull that sensitiveness, to wipe out that distinction, to drug the conscience, is nothing less than a crime of high treason against humanity. Better call evil an unfathomable mystery, so long as we also regard it as a dread reality, a foe we must conquer or be conquered by; but to solve the problem by denying its existence, to get over the fact of evil by declaring that all is good--that way not only madness but moral disaster lies. Let us at least understand what this doctrine is, which is being so energetically pressed upon us to-day; and if we see the direction in which that ill-digested pseudo-revelation is likely to lead those who consistently accept it, let us meet this insidious propaganda with equal energy and better arguments. Our first and simplest duty in dealing with the specious doctrine which asserts that evil is "not-being"--a mere illusion which, like the idols spoken of by the Apostle, is "nothing in the world"--is to point out promptly and uncompromisingly that whatever such a reading of the facts may be, and from whatever quarter it may be offered, it is not Christian, but at the furthest remove from Christianity. Shall we be told that "the question is not whether these opinions are dangerous, but whether they are true?" We reply that we are well aware that truth is the highest expediency; but we are not {137} acquainted with any other test of the truth of an opinion save this--whether and how it works. If a speculative theory, when carried into practice, should appear to make straight for pernicious results, in what intelligible sense of the word can it be "true"? It is the immense merit of Christianity that it has spoken out with no uncertain voice upon this subject; it has never sought to minimise or explain away the fact of moral evil; on the contrary, it has consistently pointed to the true nature of sin, by connecting it vitally and causally with the sacrificial death of the Son of God: _tanta molis erat_ (if we may slightly vary the immortal line) _humanam solvere gentem_. A gospel which lightly dismisses this terrible reality, and seeks to hide its hideousness behind a rose-coloured mist of fine words,--such an emasculated gospel is not a message of life, but has the answer of death within itself. That in the past, in a doctrine such as that of man's total depravity, the fact of sin has been over-emphasised, may be readily granted; but in the present all the symptoms indicate that the peril we have to meet is its _under_-emphasis. Against this whole tendency we must resolutely re-assert the Christian standpoint and attitude. Christianity is that religion which affirms in unfaltering accents the reality of evil--but it sets over against it the greater Reality of atoning Love; it proclaims unsparingly the sinfulness and deadliness {138} of sin, but offers us the victory over sin and death through Jesus Christ our Lord. "_O Timotheus, guard your trust, and eschew the irreverent empty phrases and contradictions of a mis-called 'Science,' professing which some have missed their true aim in regard to the faith._" NOTE. In order to afford an illustration of Christian Science as a thing in being, we reproduce without comment the following report of an inquest, as published in the _Tribune_, on January 9th, 1908:-- Remarkable questions were put by the coroner to witnesses at a Richmond (Surrey) inquest yesterday on Mary Elizabeth Dixon, 58, a Christian Scientist, who died of bronchitis. Mrs. E. D., of St. John's Road, said that at the request of Mrs. Dixon she gave her Christian Science help--prayer which she had faith would be answered. The Coroner (Dr. Michael Taylor): Was it?--She was in a state of collapse on Saturday night, but revived much. When Mrs. Dixon had a cold previously it improved wonderfully under Christian Science. Then Christian Science is effectual if not much is the matter, but is not in the case of a serious illness?--I don't think she wanted to get better. Is that the way you look at it?--No, I don't. I know God is all-power and ever present. But if God is all-powerful, as you say, and as we all know, why did you have no response?--I suppose it was my lack of trust in that all-power. {139} It comes to this, that although He is all-powerful, unless the person praying for another has perfect faith the patient will not recover?--Nothing is impossible to God. The doctor was called in because it was the law. Then it was too late. It was as much the law to have called him in when the woman was alive. What is the practice with regard to illness?--It is prayer. If you had a broken leg, would you send for a doctor?--Yes, to set it. I have not sufficient understanding. Continuing, witness said she did not believe in drugs, but she did in food at present, because her understanding was not sufficient, as she was only a student. By a Juror: The reason Mrs. Dixon got worse was because of lack of understanding on witness's part. The Coroner: When she got worse, why did you not send for a doctor?--I asked her if she wanted a doctor to tell me. Yet she was getting worse owing to your lack of understanding?--I didn't look at it in that light. B. H., who attended Mrs. Dixon, said she was a trained nurse with nine years' experience. Witness had, during the past two years, become a Christian Scientist nurse. She was not a practitioner. The Coroner: Has a practitioner any special qualifications?--No, a practitioner is one who prays for another. The Coroner: Would you give a patient a mustard poultice?--No. But you would give her a hot-water bottle?--Yes. Then where do you draw the line? You don't believe in material aid?--No, I believe the other is better. Do you believe in a judicious continuation of both?--No. Did you give her beef tea?--Yes, as a nourishment. But, nurse, you ought to know what every medical man knows, that beef tea is a stimulant. Do you believe in stimulants?--Not at all. {140} Then why did you give her beef tea?--(After a pause) It was simpler to get. But it is contrary to your principles. Would you give _sal volatile_?--No. Witness explained that she called in no other help because she believed prayer was the most effectual. Why didn't you call in a doctor?--I think the patient should judge for herself. Even though her brain is clouded and she is dying?--Yes. On another point the Coroner said: Did our Saviour use food and stimulants?--He gave wine. Why don't you give wine?--He did not give it in illness, but at a marriage feast. You want us to believe He gave wine to people who could do without and withheld it from those who wanted it. Asked a question as to calling in a doctor for surgery purposes, witness said he would only be called in for setting bones and not for an operation. The Coroner: It amounts to this: you believe the Almighty is a bad surgeon, but a good physician?--Our faith is not yet strong enough. Dr. Cockell deposed that death was due to acute bronchitis. Would she have recovered with medical attendance for a week before?--Yes. The Coroner, in summing up, said there was no doubt Mrs. Dixon was grossly neglected. The jury returned a verdict of "Death from acute bronchitis, accelerated by gross neglect by Mrs. D. and especially by Nurse H." The Coroner: I am afraid that will mean manslaughter, which would be too severe. Will you alter it, gentlemen? The jury then altered the verdict to one of "severe censure on Mrs. D. and Miss H. for neglecting to obtain medical aid." [1] _The Grammar of Assent_, p. 201. [2] _Rudimental Divine Science_, p. 10. [3] _Op. cit._, p. 10. Mrs. Eddy is so incredibly ignorant of the meaning of words in common use that she says, "Mind in matter is pantheism." It has apparently never dawned on her that her own doctrine, "God is All--All is God" is pantheism pure and simple! [4] _Ibid_. [5] _Op. cit._, p. 9. [6] Dr. Henry Rutgers Marshall, on "Psychotherapeutics," in the _Hibbert Journal_, January, 1909. [7] The Christian Science healer is supposed to have had his or her powers trained by special tuition, for which, in the ordinary course, a fee is charged. Mrs. Eddy states that she has "never taught a Primary class without several and sometimes seventeen free students in it," but adds significantly "The student who pays must, of necessity, do better than he who does not pay" (_op. cit._, p. 14). The "necessity" is not quite obvious, but the statement sets one wondering whether it would hold true if for "student" the word "patient" were substituted. [8] _Op. cit._, p. 3. [9] _Ibid._, p. 13. {141} CHAPTER IX DETERMINISM The under-emphasis of sin, we said, is one of the special dangers which threaten the present age; and nothing is more remarkable or disquieting to observe than the number of attacks that are being made to-day from quarter after quarter, all of them converging upon the same point. Now the cry is raised that sin is a mere mistake, due to ignorance; or that it is merely the absence of something, as a shadow indicates the absence of light[1]; or we are assured that "what we call 'evil' is only incidental to the progress and development of the [universal] order" [2]--a necessary step in evolution. Now again the burden of responsibility is shifted from the shoulders of the individual on to heredity and environment; or compromise with what is known to be moral evil is not only excused as a necessity, but commended as a duty; or the average person's feelings are considerately soothed by {142} the pronouncement that "the mass of a Christian congregation are about as innocent as men and women can well be in a world where natural temptations are so rife, and so many social adjustments discountenance heroic saintliness" [3]--the latter a truly admirable feat of circumlocution. And sometimes, as we have seen, sin and evil are themselves in essence negated--generally in virtue of some pseudo-philosophic or pseudo-scientific "doctrine of a universe"--as when we read that "in a universe . . . there cannot be any room for independent and creative wills, actually thwarting the Good Will." [4] Doubtless, these various statements, whether made in the name of Monism or Determinism, or some form of neo-Christianity, represent a reaction against that over-emphasis which taught that man was by nature under God's wrath and deserving of everlasting torments; but there can be no question that this reaction has gone very far in the direction of the opposite extreme, and that the time has come for reconsideration and a return to more balanced views. So far as the virtual denial of human freedom, human sin, and indeed of human selfhood, {143} flows from a perversion of the doctrine of Divine immanence, we need not add anything to the observations made in earlier chapters upon this subject; we might, however, quote some pertinent words of Martineau's, affirming and explaining that distinction between the Divine and human personality which can only be ignored to the hopeless confusion of thought: "The whole external universe, then (external, I mean, to self-conscious beings), we unreservedly surrender to the Indwelling Will, of which it is the organised expression. From no point of its space, from no moment of its time, is His living energy withdrawn, or less intensely present than in any crisis fitly called creative. But the very same principle which establishes a _Unity_ of all external causality makes it antithetic to the internal, and establishes a _Duality_ between our own and that which is other than ours; so that, were not our personal power known to us as _one_, the cosmical power would not be guaranteed to us as the _other_. Here, therefore, at the boundary of the proper Ego, the absorbing claim of the Supreme will arrests itself, and recognises a ground on which it does not mean to step. Did it still press on and annex this field also, it would simply abolish the very base of its own recognisable existence, and, in making itself all in all, would vanish totally from view. . . Are we, then, to find Him in the sunshine and the rain, and to miss Him in our thought, our duty and our love? Far from it; He is with us in both: only in the former it is His _immanent_ life, in the latter His _transcendent_, with which we are in communion." [5] Only where this fundamental principle of the non-identity of God and man is recognised, can the facts of human personality, {144} freedom and responsibility for willed acts be rationally based and defended. At the same time this "otherness" of God, while it is the condition, is not necessarily the guarantee, of our freedom. Determinism is quite compatible, in theory, and has been so found in history, with belief in the Divine transcendence; but it is scarcely compatible with belief in the Divine goodness. There is no _a priori_ reason making it inconceivable that the doctrine of absolute predestination might be true; but such a doctrine is not reconcilable with the belief that the Eternal Other is also the Eternal Father. The Divine Autocrat of Calvinism, who pre-ordained some of His creatures to eternal damnation--not for any demerit of theirs, but "just choosing so"--is not unthinkable; what is unthinkable is that we could love such a One--a God who had predestined all human sin and woe, who had fore-ordered things in such a manner that unnumbered hapless souls were doomed evermore to stumble and to suffer. Such a God might inspire a shuddering, wondering, abject awe, but never affection. Only a good God, aiming at the evolution of goodness, the making of character, could have endowed us with freedom, for only through such an endowment can such an aim be realised. And hence there are perhaps few attitudes so entirely irrational as that which affects to see in a determinist interpretation of man's {145} nature a special reason for optimism. Occasionally one is invited to rejoice in the "great and glorious thought that every man is wholly a product of the Master Workman"; it is even urged that such a conception cannot change our appreciation of what is fine in human thought and action, just as "we do not admire a rose the less because we know that it could no more help being what it is than could a stinging nettle or a fungus." We can only say that such a superficial optimism seems infinitely more open to objection than the temper which, in the face of so much suffering and sin, has to struggle hard sometimes to preserve its faith in the Father's love, and half-wonders if some personal power of evil is not actively engaged in marring God's workmanship. Anyone who can believe that every man, just as he is, represents the Divine intention in concrete form--anyone who can believe this, and glory in the thought--must inhabit a strange world, remote from reality. He can never have learned anything of the greed which condemns myriads of human beings to sunless and degraded lives; he can never have been inside a police-court; he can never have seen hapless womanhood flaunting its be-rouged and be-ribboned shame under the electric light of West End thoroughfares--he can never even have reflected upon any of these things, and rejoiced in the thought that every human being was "wholly the {146} product of the Master Workman." If such a thought does not produce something like despair, it ought to do so; if it does not, then it represents not a conviction but a pose. As a matter of fact, the determinist creed, with all its professions of charitableness towards the transgressor, and while pretending to soothe us by absolving us from responsibility for wrong-doing, fatally paralyses our endeavours. It is a message, not of liberation from guilt, but of despair. Christianity, even while condemning sin, in its very condemnation speaks of hope; it says to the sinner: "You are guilty--you ought to have done better, and you know it; you are guilty--you ought still to do better, _and you can_." That is a rousing, vitalising call: the very censure implies the possibility of better things. But Determinism says to the moral wreck: "Not only are you a wreck, but that is all you ever could have been; you not only cannot help being what you are, but in your wretchedness and degradation you are what you could not help being--this was your pre-ordained destiny from the beginning of time. We are not angry with you, any more than we are angry with tigers for being fierce, or with thorns for not bearing grapes; only, being what you are, you never _could_ have borne, and never will bear, grapes." Truly a "great and glorious thought"! Determinism makes of the whole world of erring men a hospital, and pronounces {147} every patient an incurable--it is ready to grant kindly, considerate treatment to each, but holds out hopes of recovery to none. Who would not rather submit to a sterner physician, whose ministrations promised to medicine him back to health again! A consistent Determinism, prepared to look stedfastly at things as they are, can, we repeat, lead nowhere but to despair; a conclusion from which determinists, fortunately for themselves, escape by means of the most patent inconsistency. But we turn to the further contention which we already mentioned in passing, _viz._, that the acceptance of Determinism would by no means change our admiration of what was fine in human thought and action--just as we did not admire a rose the less because it could not help being fragrant and beautiful. Here we have a very palpable, but all the more significant confusion between things totally different--aesthetics and ethics. Our admiration for a rose is aesthetic; our admiration for goodness is ethical, and we give it with the implicit understanding that the quality we admire is the result of voluntary acts and decisions. All moral judgments imply this; and in practice we know that the experience of moral struggle and moral conquest is intensely real, not to be argued away any more than we can be argued out of any other primary fact of consciousness, which is its own sufficient evidence. Let anyone ask himself quite {148} candidly whether the feeling called forth by some rare work of art resembles remotely the emotion with which he reads of some deed of humble heroism or self-sacrifice; the psychology which discerns here no difference is singularly shallow. But when the would-be optimistic determinist is shown the sheer fatuity of pretending to rejoice in that everything is just as it is--a singular compliment to the "Master Workman"--he executes a _volte-face_ and falls back upon the plea that his doctrine is at any rate a pre-eminently practical one. Instead of vainly deploring imaginary "sins," Determinism would simply have us recognise plain facts: it would arrange for healthy hereditary influences to cradle the coming generations; it would adopt the most enlightened educational, hygienic, reformatory methods; it would provide for all the citizens of the State such an environment as would steadily make for health and beauty and happiness. There are no "sinners," it says, but only the unhappy products of conditions which foster anti-social proclivities as automatically as dirt fosters disease; instead of punishing the products, let us attack the producing conditions, and by sweeping them away bring in the millennium. Such a plea, it must be admitted, harmonises well with our modern tolerance, our modern zeal for reform; and yet it rests upon a fundamental fallacy. No one, of course, denies the {149} moulding power of heredity and environment; no one denies such an obvious truism as that we cannot expect to grow fine specimens of humanity in the reeking slum or the sweater's workshop. But as environment is a greater power than heredity, so there is only one power greater than environment--and that is our power to alter environment. "But that," protests the determinist, "is just what we hold ought to be done." Certainly; only it is just what, on his presupposition, cannot be done. For if the slum-dweller cannot help being what he is, owing to his environment, neither can the slum-owner, or the legislator, or the community, help being what they are, owing to the self-same cause. In fact, we cannot get the word "ought" from Determinism; it is as much out of place in that connection as a free worker in a slave-compound. But every reform springs from a sense of "oughtness"; and the sense of moral obligation is itself the spontaneous expression of the consciousness of moral freedom. So far as we believe in the duty of reform--or in "duty" itself, _sans phrase_--we have already renounced Determinism, and proclaimed our belief in liberty. Let it be said once more, before we pass from this particular aspect of our subject, that too much may be set down to, or expected from, even environment; everybody knows that from gentle homes, surrounded by what seemed the most favouring influences, {150} there have sprung vicious and depraved characters. We ask ourselves, in encountering such cases, "Wanting is--what?" And the answer must be given in Kant's famous dictum: that which is "the only good thing in the world--_a good will_." In one sense, paradoxical as it may sound, much of the strenuous modern advocacy of Determinism or semi-Determinism is a kind of inverted acknowledgment of man's consciousness of freedom, _viz._, where that consciousness appears as the sense of sin. Of course, when a writer like Mr. Dole assures us that "there is no objection to a moral and spiritual Determinism that binds all things over into the unity of good," [6] we merely reply that on the contrary there is the very serious objection that "all things" are not good. But most advocates of the determinist position are, to do them justice, well aware of the existence of wrong and discord in human life; and their object is, by emphasising the influence of heredity and environment, to remove or at least materially to lighten, the crushing burden of the sense of sin. The same intention underlies the effort, occasionally made, to persuade men that, seeing they are such as God created them, it is not for them to repine at being what they are, nor to "take too serious a view" of any "penchant for {151} revolt"--another delightful phrase--they may discover within themselves; as a recent writer has it, "The responsibility of its presence _and action_ does not rest with us, nor are we justified in insulting God who made us, by repenting of what He has done. _We might as well repent of the tiger and the snake, the earthquake and the tempest in nature._" [7] What are we to say of this attempt to make God answerable, not merely for the presence, but for the action, of whatever impulse to "revolt" of which we may be conscious? To be quite frank, we cannot think the utterance we have just quoted other than extraordinarily ill-considered. The simple fact that we cannot follow _all_ the impulses which arise in us, but have to choose between higher and lower--the fact that we are well aware of this conflict of unharmonisable elements within ourselves, some of which can only triumph at the expense of others--seems sufficiently to dispose of this writer's main contention. We may not be responsible for the presence of these warring instincts, but we are undoubtedly responsible for translating one kind into action while holding the other kind in check. The earthward and the heavenward are in each of us, striving for mastery; but no imagination is vainer than that we can indulge both, or practise the impartiality with which Montaigne's singular devotee lighted one candle {152} to St. George and another to the dragon. If we would realise the type of perfect in the mind, we must not gratify "the penchant for revolt," but exert ourselves to lay-- The ghost of the brute that is walking and haunting us yet and be free; we must Arise and fly The reeling Faun, the sensual feast; Move upward, working out the beast, And let the ape and tiger die. Granted that the lower impulses, the inheritance from our animal ancestry, are left in us by Divine decree, they are there, not to be indulged on the plea that to repent would be tantamount to "insulting God who made us," but to be conquered by the exercise of that freedom which is the earnest of our call to claim our birthright as children of God. But when we are further told that, as well as repent of our actions, we might repent of the tiger and the snake, we are immediately conscious of a double confusion of thought behind that statement; for in the first place, we are not even called upon to repent of _each other's_ failings but only of our own, and in the second there is no analogy between ourselves and the tiger and snake, creatures which act according to their animal natures, and are incapable of desiring to be other than they are. Our capacity of, and desire for, better things attest our possession of a measure of liberty, and {153} indicate at once our responsibility for the course we take, and the essential distinction between the animal creation and ourselves--a distinction wittily expressed in the remark that "everybody would admit that very few men are really manly; but nobody would contend that very few whales were really whaley." But those who seek to spare us the discomfort of repentance by teaching us to declare with a new inflection, "It is He that hath made us, and not we ourselves," forget that there is another side to this argument. It is, of course, very alluring to be told that we are not really blameworthy for acts which hitherto we have blamed ourselves for--that our impulses are God-given--that "the sinner is merely a learner in a lower grade in the school," [8] and so forth; one can understand how grateful is such a morphia injection for deadening the pangs of an accusing conscience. The art of making excuses, as old as the Garden of Eden, will never lack ardent professors or eager disciples. Says Cassius to Brutus:-- Have you not love enough to bear with me When that rash humour which my mother gave me Makes me forgetful? And Brutus answers with a smile:-- Yes, Cassius, and from henceforth, When you are over-earnest with your Brutus, He'll think your mother chides, and leave you so! {154} But, after all, we none of us do exclusively things for which we wish to escape being blamed; there is hardly anyone who could not name some occasion on which he has made some sacrifice, foregone an unfair advantage, declined to listen to selfish promptings, or held some baser impulse in check. None of these things were done for the sake of receiving praise; nevertheless, and quite inevitably, the doer felt praise_worthy_, conscious of an inner accord whose self-attesting power stamped it a reality, and not an illusion. But Determinism leaves no room for this emotion, any more than for that of remorse or blame-worthiness; we cannot get rid of the sense of sin, yet retain the sense of righteousness. The determinist sponge passes over the whole moral vocabulary, not only over the inconvenient parts; it obliterates the terms self-indulgence, dishonesty, cowardice, but the same fate overtakes self-conquest, integrity, bravery. To vary the phrase slightly, we must not, on the determinist hypothesis, insult God by taking credit to ourselves for what He has done. Are we prepared to surrender the approval of our conscience, the new-won self-respect which rewards the successful resistance offered to temptation, as having no basis in fact? And if we are not, what is this but to affirm our freedom and our responsibility alike in doing and forbearing? {155} And this inner sense of peace or discord, according as we have acted thus or thus--this immediate consciousness that it lay with us to choose aright or amiss--is both anterior and superior to all argument; it asserts itself victoriously against all merely intellectual perplexities, such as are apt to arise when we ask ourselves how man could be free to commit or not to commit an act, in view of the Divine omniscience. The contradiction seems a stubborn one, yet in practice we never feel our freedom circumscribed by it. Probably our difficulty arises largely from the mistake of applying time-relations to God at all, and thinking of eternity as an enormously long period instead of timeless Present, excluding both "unborn To-morrow and dead Yesterday." We, of course, have to think under the category of time, remembering and looking forward; but the Divine _modus cognoscendi_ excludes either of these processes, being the timeless act of One who "knoweth altogether"--in whose sight a thousand years are as a day, and a day as a thousand years. To the Eternal Intelligence, living in an unbeginning and unending Present, "past" and "future" must be equally unmeaning; to such a One we cannot but think that all events must be equally and simultaneously present, "for all live unto Him." If we could behold the drama of existence _sub specie aeternitatis_, we might be able to understand how {156} Divine omniscience can co-exist with human freedom; as it is, we can only say, "Such knowledge is too wonderful for us--it is high, and we cannot attain unto it." We know that we cannot know. In any case, even while the Divine omniscience may present itself to us as a necessity of thought, human freedom remains a reality of experience and a postulate of morals.[9] There are, however, those to whom human freedom presents itself, not as a contradiction to Divine omniscience, but as a contradiction in terms. Man's choice of a course of conduct, they argue, cannot be thought of as other than {157} determined by an efficient cause; but if it is so determined, in what sense can it be free? An uncaused act is strictly speaking unthinkable; but do we not affirm that acts are uncaused when we speak of them as free--in other words, is not the only alternative to Determinism what might be called _in_determinism? The answer is (_a_) that every choice is certainly the result of an efficient cause; but (_b_) the fact of this being so interferes in no wise with the reality of liberty, nor does it contradict the universality of the law of causation. For _the efficient cause is the man himself_, and the fact that he can choose is attested in the very act of choice--which would not be "choice" if there were not at least two real alternatives. We do not quarrel with the obvious truth, stated by Mill, that the will is determined by motives; we contest the assumption that a "free" act is an "uncaused" act. The act is caused or determined by the free choice of a causal self; in strict parlance, indeed, we should have to say that neither acts nor wills, but only human selves, are free. The will is not self-determined, but determined by a self; and this self is able not only to choose between different motives, but to attend to one set of motives to the neglect of others, and even to create motives in order to become able to make a difficult decision. Let us, however, guard against a possible misconstruction by saying that there is all the difference between this conception of _freedom_ {158} and the mere _spontaneity_ which is recognised by the followers both of Spinoza and Hegel, a difference which was luminously brought out by Martineau.[10] The Spinozist doctrine of spontaneity, as Mr. Picton points out, means that the individual follows an impulse which "has its antecedents . . . in the chain of invariable sequences." [11] Man, in this view, is "free" to do what he wants, because he wants it; he is _not_ free in the sense that he _could_ have wanted something different.[12] Nothing could be more frank than Mr. Picton's statements on this point--as when he speaks of the "_free_ man's" sense that "all things are of God, and _could not have been otherwise_:" Of course the obvious retort occurs, (he continues,) that if indeed everything . . . occurs by invariable sequence, all this intellectual gospel of freedom is vain, and exhortations to its acceptance thrown away. And to those who are not satisfied with the freedom of conscious spontaneity, a condition in which we do just as we want to do, though our will is a link in an endless series of untraceable sequences, I suppose this objection must still be final.[13] The objection is undoubtedly final, because it is absolutely valid; for by freedom we mean the ability to do or leave undone, to act thus or thus, and apart from such an ability moral judgments are quite unthinkable. Where we pronounce praise or blame, the tacit {159} presupposition is always that the object of the pronouncement could have acted differently; and this Spinozism denies. The same remark applies to the teaching of that modern Absolute Idealism which declares, with Green, that man is his motives, and that he is "free" inasmuch as it is by his own motives that he is governed. It would be as accurate to call an automatic machine "free" on the ground that it is by its own works that it is moved. This is only, as Professor William James aptly calls it, "soft Determinism." If the automaton could decide to slacken or increase its rate of speed, to go or to stop as it liked and where it liked--above all, if it could aim at and devise improvements in its own mechanism so as to make itself a better automaton--it would then be appropriate to speak of it as free; only it would no longer be appropriate to call it an automaton. And similarly it is only if man is able to determine his course of action--if he can "choose" in any real sense, _i.e._, in the sense that he might choose differently, if he wished to do so--that it can be anything but an abuse of language to speak of him as free; for only in that case can he be an object of approbation or condemnation. If he is merely the sum-total of his motives, he is as little free to act other than he does as a number of chemical elements combined in certain proportions are free to form anything but a definite chemical substance. As {160} Mr. Balfour has well expressed it,[14] "It may seem at first sight plausible to describe a man as free whose behaviour is due to 'himself' alone. But without quarrelling over words, it is, I think, plain that whether it be proper to call him free or not, he at least lacks freedom in the sense in which freedom is necessary in order to constitute responsibility. It is impossible to say of him that he 'ought,' and therefore he 'can,' for at any given moment of his life his next action is by hypothesis strictly determined." But the freedom of which we are conscious--_e.g._, in every experience of conflict between inclination and duty--is something altogether different; we know that we can yield or resist, choose between, reinforce, and if necessary _make_, our motives.[15] {161} But is not sin, it is sometimes asked, inevitable _per se_, and in that sense natural to man, and if so, how can we be blamed for what we could not avoid? And again, is there not some truth in the statement that much that we call evil has been incidental to the progress of the race, just as the discords produced by the learner on a musical instrument are necessary incidents in the process which will teach him by and by to charm the ear with the perfect harmony? Such questions are frequently put forward; let us see if we are able to clear away the misunderstandings to which they bear witness. (1) Admitting that a free moral being must be able in theory to choose the wrong as well as the right, it should in the first place be observed that the possibility of that or any course does not render it _inevitable_ for him to take it, and it is only the possibility that is given. But it may be justly argued that since as a matter of fact all men sin, we cannot pretend that we are merely dealing with a theoretical possibility, but must pronounce sin to be _de facto_ natural to man as well as inevitable--for who has ever avoided it? Let us observe what follows: this, and no more, that sin is "natural" only in the sense in which disease is "natural"--_viz._, as a disorder to which the human frame may become subject, but nevertheless a disorder. As physical disease entails a diminution of physical life, so sin entails a diminution of {162} our moral and spiritual life, an alienation of the soul from God; and while anyone may thus choose to describe sin--the wilful misuse of faculties lent us for other ends--as natural, it is significant that the result of sin is quite _un_natural, _viz._, a state of disunion between the soul and God. So much is this the case that the aim of all religion is to bring about a cessation of this unhappy state, and to effect the healing of the discord created by man's transgression. True religion treats sin, not as an error to be explained away, but as a wall of partition to be broken down; the essential aim of religion is atonement, man's reconciliation to God. (2) But it is further urged that in historical retrospect, and in the light of evolution, it is difficult to avoid the conclusion that in the course of man's development from a savage and barbaric condition all manner of ills--bloodshed, slavery, etc.--have been necessary stages; may not, then, sin be claimed as constituting part of the Divine plan? And if such was the case once, may it not be the case still? Here we are dealing with a very obvious confusion; for while man is in a low and undeveloped state, a good many acts which would be sins if committed by people on a higher level, have not that character at all. It is quite impossible, _e.g._, to read the Homeric poems and find in them any trace or indication that deceit, war and massacres are {163} regarded with so much as moral distaste; the men of the Homeric age had simply not risen to that moral height, and it would be futile to judge them by the standards of a more advanced civilisation. Undoubtedly, in its slow evolution from sub-human origins, the race passes through long sub-moral stages during which the animal instincts--"moods of tiger or of ape"--are still in the ascendant; it is only gradually that man becomes aware of certain practices with shame, disgust or remorse, and it is only then that we can begin to speak of the indulgence of the passions which prompt those practices as "sin." When Paul calls the law the strength of sin, or says that the law came in that the trespass might abound, he states a truth, but sees it, if one may say so, out of focus; for the law was not arbitrarily imposed in order to brand a multitude of harmless acts as offences, but in proportion as the moral law is discerned by man's mind, acts which formerly were merely non-moral begin to range themselves on this side or that, as right and wrong. True, even when our moral perceptions have thus been quickened, we shall not always "rule our province of the brute" with a strong hand--true also that, owing to our earthly nature, "in many things we all stumble;" but so far from viewing these failures complacently, they ought to spur us to more earnest endeavours to leave our lower inheritance behind. The truth {164} concerning the "inevitableness" of sin was stated by our Lord when He said, "It must needs be that occasions"--_viz._, of stumbling--"come; but woe to that man through whom the occasion cometh." Sin as such, as an "occasion," is inevitable; but for any particular sin, for acting contrarily to the known best, the individual is responsible--and greatest of all is the responsibility of one who knowingly and of design becomes an "occasion of stumbling" to another, making sin more difficult to avoid, or positively inciting another to wrong-doing. We do not forget the inequalities of moral endowment, nor do we leave out of sight that a temptation which for one man scarcely so much as exists may prove well-nigh irresistible to another; but the judgment upon each is in the wise and Fatherly hands of Him who knoweth our frame, and remembereth that we are dust. We have seen that Determinism, in spite of its humanitarian and even optimistic pretensions, when it is consistently applied falsifies every one of its promises; it is worth while to ask ourselves yet once more what is likely to be the effect of this doctrine upon the characters of those who seriously entertain it. Mill, in his frigid and precise, yet scrupulously just manner, expressed the opinion that The free-will doctrine, by keeping in view precisely that portion of the truth which the word necessity puts {165} out of sight, namely the power of the mind to co-operate in the formation of its own character, has given to its adherents a practical feeling much nearer to the truth than has generally (I believe) existed in the minds of necessarians. The latter may have had a stronger sense of the importance of what human beings can do as to shape the characters of one another; but the free-will doctrine has, I believe, fostered in its supporters a much stronger spirit of self-culture.[16] If for "self-culture" we substituted self-reliance, buoyancy, a sense of responsibility, we should scarcely go too far; for, indeed, it would be difficult to say from what sources the consistent determinist is to derive these qualities. He regards himself as the inevitable product of forces which have moulded him into that particular shape and no other; he cannot help himself or change his character by one hair's-breadth; he views his own life, as has been well said, not in the light of a story which he can carry on as he may choose, but as a sum which must finish in a given way; and his one dismal consolation is that he is not responsible for his shortcomings. He can but say with his favourite sage:-- The Ball no question makes of Ayes and Noes, But Here or There as strikes the Player goes; And He that toss'd you down into the Field, He knows about it all--_He_ knows--HE knows! But to believe that no effort can avail will certainly not inspire anyone to make such an effort; on the contrary, the likelihood is only {166} too great that such a belief will upon occasion serve as a welcome excuse for not making it. It has been said that Determinism, if not a very heroic creed, will at any rate make for tolerance and charity towards human failings; but nothing is more certain than that this kind of charity will, in practice, begin--while its tendency will be also to end--at home. This estimate, it is true, is often warmly challenged; in actual life, we are told, many of those who profess determinist principles are notorious for their strenuous moral calibre, and certainly not open to the charge of laxity. Let that statement be ungrudgingly accepted; what it proves is no more than that prussic acid is entirely harmless--provided it is not taken. We are quite willing to admit that Determinism, provided it is not put into practice, is nothing more than a mistaken theory. So long as men are content to be determinists in their studies and libertarians everywhere else, no particular mischief is likely to ensue; and it is matter of common experience, and for much congratulation, that our theoretical determinists should so far obey the instinct of moral self-preservation as to be for the most part practical libertarians, freely pronouncing praise and blame on human conduct, and feeling praise- and blameworthy themselves. But if they were logical and consistent determinists, they would do and feel no such thing; for the praise we give to a {167} well-poised spring-cart is one thing, and the praise we give to a well-poised character is another. And again, given a man who really believed, or whom it suited to believe, that he was quite irresponsible for his actions, and that no morally valid censure could attach to him for gratifying some appetite or passion, one cannot help suspecting that the result would be something much worse than mere laxity. That most persons who argue in favour of Determinism do not act up to its principles, is surely nothing in the doctrine's recommendation; on the other hand there is always the unpleasant possibility that some day they may begin to take their philosophy seriously. And just as one would not like prussic acid to lie about promiscuously where all and sundry could have access to it, lest there should be a great deal of accidental poisoning, so we are justified in viewing the broadcast dissemination of determinist theory not merely with the antipathy one may feel towards intellectual error, but with the apprehension excited by a moral danger. Every system or movement which involves the denial of evil or of freedom--the denial or under-emphasis of sin--menaces not only religion in the narrower sense, but the structure of civilisation itself. The rock upon which all these theories make shipwreck is the fact that we cannot abolish the reality of sin and leave the reality of {168} goodness intact. Saint and sinner, hero and coward, martyr and traitor, all, as we have seen, are reduced by Determinism to a common level where there is neither admiration nor censure, but at most a vague wonder at all the unnecessary suffering--for _that_ at any rate remains real--involved in this profoundly futile procession of phenomena; and that is a conclusion to which humanity has always refused, and will always refuse, to reconcile itself. If we wish to see how utterly a deterministic conception empties morality of meaning, we need only turn to the earthly career of our Lord, and ask ourselves what it is that gives to that life and death their poignant significance but the voluntariness with which the Saviour took each successive step on the road from His native Nazareth to the place called Calvary. Think of Him simply as the product of a compelling Force, unable to act otherwise than He did, and at one stroke all that moved us to gratitude, to admiration, all that appealed to us most deeply, is gone. There can be no such thing as compulsory heroism or non-voluntary self-sacrifice; moral judgments upon "inevitable" conduct are merely absurd--we do not bestow moral approval upon this kind of higher automatism. Sometimes, indeed, in a connection like this, an attempt is made at some sort of compromise: granted, it is said, that each separate action of Christ's was voluntary, yet His life-purpose {169} as a whole was surely pre-determined, and not left to Him to adopt or refuse. Yet how impossible, upon closer reflection, is this species of semi-Determinism! Every single act of Jesus was voluntary; but His whole life and character and purpose--which is just the sum-total of these single, voluntary acts--these, we are to believe, were strictly necessitated. He could choose every step of a way which was yet absolutely chosen for Him, so that He could tread no other! A tremendous decision like His going to Jerusalem lay within His power; but the aim and meaning of His life, viewed as a whole, He had no power of voluntarily determining. That, to our mind, is a wholly irrational position; one might as reasonably say, "Every link of this chain is golden; but the chain itself is iron." Simple consistency requires the admission that if the chain is iron, so must the links be, and if the links are golden, so must be the chain. We say again--all that enshrines Jesus in our hearts, all that gives its redemptive power to His love-prompted death, and its significance to Calvary, rests upon the fact of His moral freedom. He had _power_ to lay down His life; therein lay the glory of His self-surrender. He was, indeed, God's instrument in effecting the reconciliation of sinners to the Divine Love, but it rested with Him to decide whether He would be that instrument or no, and the course He chose was not that of {170} mechanical necessity, nor was the decision to which He came a following in the line of least resistance. In accepting the pain and shame of the Cross, Jesus worked His Father's will; but that will was not imposed upon Him from without, but freely responded to from within. As the author of the _Theologia Germanica_ has it, a man should strive "to be to the Eternal Goodness what his hand is to a man": but all the ultimate splendour of the achievement is bound up with the initial possibility of the striving. Not only the yearning love of God, but the conquering freedom of Man is finally attested by that blood-red seal which bears the impressure of a Cross. [1] So _e.g._, _In The Theology of Civilisation_, by Charles F. Dole, p. 49. [2] _The Coming People_, by the same author, p. 49. [3] _The Over-Emphasis of Sin_, by the Rev. Alexander Brown, in the _Hibbert Journal_, April, 1909, p. 616. [4] _The Theology of Civilisation_, p. 61. It would, of course, have been easy to give references from other authors; but there is an extraordinary family-likeness between the writers of this School, extending down to the very phrasing of their ideas. [5] _A Study of Religion_, vol. ii., pp. 166, 179. [6] _Theology of Civilisation_, p. 129. [7] The Rev. Alexander Brown, _loc. cit._, p. 619; italics ours. [8] Dole, _op. cit._, p. 101. [9] The analogy of the tyro and the expert chess-player--the tyro "free," yet the expert foreseeing and holding the issue of the game in his own hands--is only superficially plausible. There seems, however, one other possible explanatory hypothesis, though it is here advanced only in the most tentative manner: may it not be possible for the Most High to impose a limitation upon His infinite knowledge corresponding to that self-limitation of His infinite power which we regard as a necessary assumption? It would be difficult on _a priori_ grounds to declare such a thing to be inconceivable. When Paul spoke of himself as "determined not to know anything save Jesus Christ," he signified his intention of shutting out from his knowledge whole ranges of facts, for reasons dictated by the purpose he had in hand; and as a matter of every-day experience, we all practise something like this habitually, voluntarily narrowing the range of our consciousness and our immediate interests for one cause and another. Might not God, if the reality of our freedom could not be guaranteed in any other way, and if that freedom was necessary for the attainment of His purpose with man, forbear in some measure, however slight, to exercise His omniscience? We are well aware that the subject admits of nothing more than reverent surmise; and having stated our suggestion, we simply leave it with the reader as one of those possibilities which will appeal differently to different minds. [10] _Types of Ethical Theory_, vol. ii., pp. 31 ff. [11] _Spinoza_, p. 195. [12] Cp. _Pantheism_, p. 74. [13] _Spinoza_, p. 196. [14] In _Mind_, October, 1893; quoted in Professor Upton's invaluable Hibbert Lectures on _The Bases of Religious Belief_, p. 293, n. [15] It may be interesting to quote a recent popular statement of the neo-Hegelian position in regard to this question: "The feeling that we are free is true in this sense, that the cause of a moral deed is a motive within us, and not some power outside us. But this motive moves us because of what we are, because of our characters, and the character is the product of inherited instincts, appetites and passions, modified by controlling ideas which have been acquired since our birth. Mr. Blatchford is so far right in his book, _Not Guilty_. The inward and outward conditions of a man's life, of course, _make him what he is inevitably_. We choose, but our choice is governed by all our past, and by present circumstances. . . We have our ancestors rolled up in us. A man is the last result of the universe. All is law. All is inevitable by the laws of life:" (The Rev. G. T. Sadler, B.A., LL.B., in the _Clarion_, June 11th, 1909). That, of course, is not liberty at all; and the logical honours appear to rest with Mr. Blatchford, who, arguing on the same assumptions, declares sin to be a meaningless term, seeing that "man is not responsible for his nature, nor for the acts prompted by that nature." [16] _System of Logic_, vol. ii., p. 412 (third edition). {171} CHAPTER X MORALITY AS A RELIGION That minimising or denial of moral evil with which we dealt in the preceding pages, is common to, and follows as the corollary from, all systems in which the personality and transcendence of God are either explicitly denied or virtually ignored. Monism, that is to say,--whether of the idealistic or the materialistic variety, whether pantheist or atheist in complexion--finds its ethical counterpart in Determinism. There are, however, in our pathetically restless age a number--probably a growing number--of serious men and women who attack the problem from the opposite end. Weary of speculation, and leaning on the whole to the side of negation rather than affirmation in matters of theology, they say that one thing at any rate is left, a certainty of which no one can deprive them, an ideal sufficient to inspire mankind--the supreme worthiness of the good life. While the creeds of the Churches divide their respective adherents from each other, here, they tell us, is a basis upon which all can unite, and which therefore {172} should assuredly prove adequate and attractive; nay, since religion is valued for the kind of life it produces--since the tree is judged neither by its name, nor age, nor foliage, but simply and solely by its fruit--shall we not say that morality itself is the true and only religion, that residuum of valid and vital truth which remains when all the errors of supernaturalism have been purged and filtered away? Certainly there are those in our own day who, while definitely rejecting the sanctions and authority of religion in its commonly accepted meaning, are fully convinced that to live an unselfish life is a duty incumbent on man, and who honestly endeavour to practise what they believe. That being so, is not faith shown to be practically superfluous, and the autonomy and sufficiency of ethics a demonstrated fact? Such, in short, is the contention of the Ethical Movement, so ably and often eloquently represented by leaders like Felix Adler, W. M. Salter, Washington Sullivan, Stanton Coit, and others; all these teachers with one accord deprecate and dismiss theological doctrines as at best not proven, at worst a hindrance, and commend instead morality as the all-embracing, all-sufficing and all-saving religion. To quote Mr. Salter, who certainly speaks with authority for his side:-- A religion that will teach us how to live, that will hold up clear and high the laws of life and win us to obedience {173} to them--this is the religion the world needs, and it is the only true religion; all others, all that seek to make something else sacred, that make men put their trust in "God" or Christ or the Virgin or the Bible or the Church or its sacraments and rites, are a diverting of man from the real issue; they are the blind leading of the blind; they are a delusion and a snare.[1] Mr. Salter is, indeed, willing to show "charity" for the belief "that the authority of the right is in some way connected with God"; but it is the charity that may be extended to an exploded superstition on account of certain beneficent associations that cling to it. "If by the term 'God,'" he says,[2] "was meant simply the reason and nature of things, it might perhaps be freely used; but the word means something else to most persons"--and therefore the honest ethicist will not employ it. For this sensible and candid course we cannot but feel thankful; Mr. Salter at any rate knows well enough that there is all the difference between "the reason and nature of things"--between a mere "totality of being"--and a personal God. We cannot disguise from ourselves that the present juncture is in many respects singularly favourable to the ethical movement; to not a few who have lost their earlier faith and feel the need of something to take its place, Ethicism will seem to meet that want, and they will accordingly give a wistful, grateful {174} hearing to what Mr. Salter and his colleagues have to preach. Probably, indeed, it will be people of a higher than the average intellectual and moral calibre who will seek to fill the void left by Agnosticism by embracing "morality as a religion"; and more particularly is this likely to happen when this cult has for its apostles, men of high character and gracious personality. It is for that very reason that we are bound to examine this plea carefully, and to ask ourselves whether it is really possible, as we are assured, "by purely natural and human means to help men to love, know, and do the right." [3] The issue is no less than a momentous one; for if religion, as generally understood, is a mere graceful superfluity when it is not "a delusion and a snare," very vast changes are bound to follow the recognition of such a fact. Dr. Coit may be a little premature in making his voluminous arrangements for the adaptation of the Established Church and the Book of Common Prayer to the uses of ethical religion; but if ethicists can convince us of the validity of their claims, then we must look forward to the fruitful service of man taking the place of the fruitless service of God. Now the first remark we have to make is that as a matter of fact and of history a high morality has never made its appearance apart {175} from religion. Such as they are, our moral code and moral standards at their best are the product of the Christian faith; the ethical movement has neither evolved a morality of its own, nor has it anything better to put in the place of that which we owe to Christianity. Such suggestions of alleged defects in the ethics of the Gospel as are brought forward by Mr. Salter--_e.g._, that Jesus lacked "a scientific sense of cause and effect"; that He failed to inculcate "intellectual scrupulousness and honesty"; that we cannot go to Him for "political conceptions" and "industrial ethics," and so forth--strike one as palpably trivial, irrelevant, and made to order;[4] and leaving these not very imposing criticisms on one side, it is simply a fact that the highest laws of life were declared by Jesus Christ, and have never been superseded. And since ethicists have nothing better to propose in the domain of conduct than what we find in the Gospel--since the "higher law," as formulated by Mr. Salter, reduces itself to altruism versus living for self--there is nothing harsh in saying that the ethical movement proposes merely to take over Christian morality minus its Christian setting. If a simile may be allowed, we should say that this new firm has no goods of its own manufacture; it intends to trade with the stock, and hopes to take over the goodwill, of the old. {176} Whether that is a feasible _modus operandi_ is another question, at which we shall glance presently; for the moment we would simply insist upon the fact that hitherto at any rate the ultimate sanction of morality has always been the _religious_ sanction. The Churches, in basing morality on religion, can at any rate point to some actual achievements in the past; on the other hand those who maintain that morality is independent of religious belief, and that human conduct will actually rise to a higher level when this truth is recognised, must pardon us if we tell them that they are merely issuing promissory notes which may or may not be honoured when they fall due. A certain extremely important thing has been done--we will not say perfectly, but nevertheless done--in a certain way and by certain means for a very long time; anyone who assures us that he will accomplish the same important thing for us without the means which we have hitherto deemed indispensable, can hardly be surprised if we reply that while we do not doubt his entire good faith, we cannot possibly content ourselves with his bare promises in so vital a matter. But when we say this, we shall at once be met with the rejoinder that it is manifestly unfair to argue as if Ethicism were all promise and no performance. Are there not plenty of kindly, conscientious, well-conducted agnostics who might serve as models to some of {177} their Church-going neighbours? And have we not already referred to some of the ethical teachers themselves as men of high character and gracious personality? All this may be very readily admitted; but all this has not an atom of bearing upon the matter in hand. The question really is not whether certain avowed agnostics are not as good men as certain professing Christians; but whether the moral excellences of the good agnostic are the _product_, the fruit, of agnosticism, in the same sense in which the virtues of the Christian are the _product_ of Christianity. The answer to that question must be unhesitatingly in the negative. There is no disputing the historical fact that the force which has been most potent in building up our Western civilisation is none other than Christianity; the ethics which have shaped and guided right conduct through all these centuries are Christian ethics. Think as we will about dogma, few will feel competent to contest Lecky's verdict, when the historian of Rationalism and of European Morals declares that Christianity "has been the main source of moral development in Europe"; we know what this religion has done, because its actual record is open to inspection. To quote Lecky again, "Christianity has produced more heroic actions and formed more upright men than any other creed." Now Agnosticism has not created its own moral system; agnostic morality at its {178} highest has so far grown in Christian soil, and to say that the flower will continue to grow in quite a different soil is to make a very bold and very hazardous prophecy. In the West we have never had anything like an agnostic civilisation, which would allow us to test the effects of non-belief upon conduct on a large scale; in the East, it is true, Japan offers us something like an agnostic civilisation, but those who are best acquainted with that nation are least inclined to exalt her performances in the domain of ethics. Japanese commercial morality is notoriously low; while Japan's dealings with Korea have called forth the unmeasured denunciations of European eyewitnesses. The material advances and military exploits of this virtually agnostic nation must not blind us to other and less admirable features; it would, indeed, seem that this highly-gifted race, while frantically eager to "gain the whole world," has not yet discovered its own soul, and the familiar question, "What shall it profit?" inevitably suggests itself. But not only has Agnosticism so far not grown its own morality; there is yet another consideration which leads us to listen with a certain measure of scepticism to the assurances of those who say that right conduct will survive though religion be surrendered. It has perhaps not been generally observed that just as the virtuous agnostic is generally the child of Christian parents, so by a seeming irony he is {179} often found to be the father of Christian children: there is hardly a genuine case on record where "free-thought," Agnosticism, Rationalism, has descended from parents to children to the third or fourth generation without a break, and the practical non-existence of such cases proves something of real and great importance. It has been said that pure-bred Londoners die out in three generations at most, unless new blood from the country is brought in to replenish their failing vital power. If unbelief shows the same incapacity to propagate itself by natural descent--if the descendants of unbelievers show a marked tendency to "revert to type," _i.e._, to religion--such a fact suggests only one adequate explanation, _viz._, the instinct of self-preservation, a return to the soil which made the growth of the flower possible. The virtues of the agnostic may be not unfairly compared to cut flowers, which may continue to shed their perfume for awhile, but are bound to fade before long. Our agnostic ethicists, being themselves the products of a Christian civilisation, may commend, approve and practise--they may _wear_ the Christian virtues; that those virtues will bear transplanting into an agnostic soil and flourish in an agnostic climate is a highly dubious proposition. We can only say that available experience seems to be against it. The Christian morality implies the Christian religion which has created it; as for the {180} high-minded, altruistic individual agnostic, he must simply be pronounced a credit to Christianity. We say "the high-minded _individual_ agnostic," because candour compels us to go on to state that generally speaking those who have thrown religion to the winds hardly strike one as standing on a particularly high ethical level. One can only go by facts; and the facts are that the frequenters of the betting-ring, the dram-shop, the light-minded, pleasure-seeking throng that flutters from amusement to amusement without any interest in life's serious duties--these are hardly drawn from the Church-going strata of society. Religion says "no" to this whole mode of life; and unbelief is most frequently, and in its most typical forms, found where the restraints of religion have proved too irksome to be tolerated. Before arguing in the abstract that morality is independent of religion, and will be advanced by its abandonment, it would perhaps be better to observe the average, concrete case of the man who has cut himself adrift from religious beliefs and influences; then it will be time to decide whether we should like to see the experiment tried on a national scale. It is easy to theorise _in vacuo_; in practice we are well aware that without the sanctions and the guardianship of religion morality tends to sink to the level where the accepted motto is the hedonist's "Let us eat and drink and be merry, for to-morrow we die." {181} But at this point another objection will be raised; "surely," it is said, "we do not seriously maintain that men are kind to their families, honest in their every-day transactions, truthful in speech, and so forth, merely because they believe that to do so is to act in accordance with Divine injunction, and that if this belief were suddenly destroyed we should be reduced to moral chaos." But this argument, so frequently met with in this connection, misapprehends the real issue. We do not dispute that the elements of moral conduct begin to be inculcated wherever there is any social life at all. Where there is any living together, complete selfishness is impossible; there must come into being a rough law of give-and-take, a recognition of mutual rights to be respected, a certain loyalty from the individual towards the tribe, which in turn befriends and defends each of its members. Quite a number of rudimentary virtues are thus developed by the force of public opinion, which cannot tolerate flagrantly anti-social acts from one member of the community towards the rest; murder, violence, theft, false witness--these and the like offences are suppressed with a strong hand, without the need of a special supernatural revelation to decree "Thou shalt not." To be brief, there is no doubt that this social pressure is powerful enough to insist upon behaviour which will regulate most of the ordinary relationships of life in a fairly {182} satisfactory manner--_i.e._, relationships between equals or members of the same community. The latter is a highly important qualification; where purely natural sanctions obtain, equal rights might be enjoyed by all _bona fide_ members of the tribe, but the same rights would not necessarily extend to an alien. And even within the community governed by such sanctions the weaker, and especially the weakest, did not rank as equals; among the most highly civilised nations of antiquity, the Greeks and Romans, infanticide and exposure flourished--indeed, as Lecky points out,[5] by the ideal legislations of Plato and Aristotle, and by the actual legislations of Lycurgus and Solon, infanticide was positively enjoined. Nothing can be more significant than to find in the _Self-Tormentor_ of Terence the very character who expresses the noble sentiment, "I am a man, and deem nothing that is human alien from me," giving instructions that if the child that is to be born to him should be a girl, it is to be put to death. The public opinion of an enlightened and cultured paganism countenanced such deeds without reproach; it was Christianity, or rather He who said, "Suffer the little children to come unto Me," that put a stop to these barbarities. The point which we wish to establish is this: that while "evolutional ethics" and natural {183} sanctions will carry us a certain way, they will certainly not carry us all the way; indeed, the moment we come to the higher reaches of character, these sanctions are seen to be quite inadequate. Why, _e.g._, should the conviction be born in man, and become a governing conviction, that he must under no circumstances commit a certain act, though to do so would be easy and advantageous, and detection not to be feared? Why should the moral consciousness of the higher races accept the principle which places self-sacrifice above self-seeking? There is only one explanation for this paradoxical phenomenon: it is that, as men rise in the moral scale, there dawns on them the sense of a law that is not of this world, an _Ought-to-be_, which speaks with a strange authority, and will not be denied; and when this authority is properly interpreted, it reveals a Righteous and Sovereign Will to which we owe unconditional obedience. And here we may quote in support some significant words of Mr. Salter's--words whose full significance, we venture to think, that able and distinguished writer hardly realised when he penned them: "_The whole meaning of ethics is in the sense of an invisible authority; to bow to custom, to public opinion or to law, is moral idolatry._" [6] "Whatever else I may doubt about, I cannot doubt the law of duty--that there is a right and a wrong; that the {184} right obliges me, that I ought to do it. . . . The law is over all, though it were never obeyed. . . . Ethics is nothing but the response which man and man make to the higher order of things. . . . Ecstasy is the grace heaven sets upon the moment in which the soul weds itself to the perfect good." [7] Let us see what is implied in these truly remarkable statements. The real sanctions of moral conduct are not the sanctions of expediency or force, but are derived from a higher law, an invisible authority; the finest morality is man's free response to a higher order. But, we ask, what is this higher order, this note of command, but the expression of a higher Will? And how can there be a higher Will without a Higher Personality, a God who impresses His law upon us and makes us aspire after the ideal good? Mr. Salter explicitly denies that the moral virtues come "from below, from prudence, from the sense of decency, from longsighted selfishness; they who think so," he declares, in a fine burst, "never breathed the climate of morality." [8] But if not from below, they must come from above; and this "above" really must be something more than an atmospheric conception. Will Mr. Salter help us to determine its nature more clearly? He says, "The Mighty Power, hid from our gaze by the thin screen of nature and of nature's laws . . . is {185} with our struggles after a perfect right" [9]; _but if this Mighty Power_, which is not so much expressed as hidden by nature's laws--which therefore transcends nature--_is in the highest sense moral, how can it be less than personal_? It is this Power which, according to our author, gives us the vision of the ideal, this Power which sets the mark of its approval upon our surrender to its behests, this Power which manifests its character in doing justice upon individuals and nations alike, weeding out the selfish, the wanton, the luxurious, and preserving the pure and upright; may we not ask what reason there is for withholding from that Power the one adequate name of God?[10] Let us pursue and emphasise this thought a little further. Already we have seen that--_teste_ Mr. Salter--the highest ethics require our belief in a mighty, transcendent and benevolent Power; that admission means nothing less than the surrender of naturalism {186} in morals--it is an acknowledgment that ultimately a true ethic involves and presupposes a metaphysic. Indeed, when Mr. Salter speaks of ethical religion, the same implication is there. Religion signifies a living and personal relationship between the worshipper and the object of his worship: we can stand in such a relationship to a living, personal God, in harmony with whose will alone we are able to find our true happiness; we cannot stand in such a relationship to an impersonal power or a universal order. Mr. Salter speaks of man "bending hushed and subdued, as he thinks of those mighty laws on which the health and safety of the race depends," and calls that a religion; we submit that so far as such an emotion is religious, it means that behind those mighty laws there stands a mighty Lawgiver, whom we worship and seek to obey because He is good. We can keep a law, we can conform to it so as to escape hurt, but we cannot worship it except when we conceive of it as the manifestation of a good Will; neither can we derive moral stimulus from an abstract ideal. It is when the ideal speaks in us and to us as the behest of the Living God--above all, when it stands before us incarnated, made actual in the Son of God--that it becomes dynamic, drawing and uplifting and transforming men into the Divine likeness. We are not greatly helped by such a statement as that the bare idea of morality, {187} quite apart from faith in God, "may be the supreme passion to a man"; we have to deal with things as they are, and in actual life we well know that the most commonplace presentation of the Gospel has been more of a force in the making of character and as an inspiration to righteousness than the most refined philosophical Ethicism. And now let us show, from yet another point of view, as we think may be done quite simply and cogently, that it is impossible rationally to get away from the theistic position if we are in earnest about morality, viewed as the pursuit of the ideal. In order to engage in such a pursuit, we must in the first place be free agents, able to choose between conflicting motives and to follow the right. If our actions are necessitated, then to speak of our "pursuing" this or that course, choosing and rejecting, is of course a mere contradiction in terms. But if the universe, including ourselves, is simply the resultant outcome of the interaction of unconscious mechanical forces, freewill is an absolute illusion, and Determinism the only true theory; and again, if Determinism is true, we cannot choose, we cannot strive--in a word, we cannot help being what we are. Hence, if morality in any intelligible sense is to exist at all, we must be free; and only a personal and transcendent God could have conferred on us the faculty of freewill. {188} We pass on to one or two final considerations. One of our ethicists, who genially informs us that "theology is discredited . . . and the world is indifferent to what the Church either thinks or says," writes as follows: "The Ethical Movement believes that the good life has an imperative claim upon us because of its supreme worth for humanity." [11] As against this statement we have no hesitation in affirming that only religion, in the accepted sense of the term, can give us the absolute conviction of the absolute supremacy of moral claims--the assurance that it were better to suffer, to hunger, to be despised and rejected of men, to die on a cross, than to violate one of these. Grant that the good life is of supreme worth for humanity; yet supposing a man is sorely tempted to obtain some immense advantage or to gratify some consuming passion, at the cost of injuring someone else--suppose he can do so with safety and success--why should he prefer humanity's interests to his own? Why, indeed? We make bold to say that no one in the throes of conflict between duty and desire, at the moment of moral crisis, has ever been influenced by the worth of his action for humanity. The ultimate sanction of right conduct must be drawn from a Source beyond humanity, which enjoins the right at all costs--from Him who is humanity's Maker and Ruler. {189} And the same fact is borne witness to by the experience which waits upon wilful wrong-doing, by the sense of sin. Such an emotion can never be inspired by an impersonal order with which we have come into conflict, but only by a personal Will against which we are conscious of having offended. The man who disregards the law of gravitation and falls from a ladder, experiences one kind of painful sensation; but the man who disregards the law of righteousness and falls into sin, experiences quite a different kind of painful sensation--the sensation, not of self-pity, but of self-accusation and remorse, because it is God's holiness against which he has transgressed; and that feeling finds utterance age after age in the agonised cry, "Against Thee, Thee only, have I sinned, and done that which is evil in Thy sight." The truth is, those who claim to set up morality as a religion, while declaring "the personal Deity of theology illusory," are engaged in an impossible task; and it is because of the inherent hopelessness of their enterprise that we must raise our voice in warning to any who may be tempted to put faith in their fair promises. The ethicist's intentions are admirable; but he sets about their realisation in a manner which dooms him and them to failure. Let us have practice without theory, he says, the superstructure without the foundation, the fruit without the root, works without the {190} faith which produces works: and such being the nature of his undertaking, he fares accordingly, a spectacle of ineffectual goodness, wondering why the world declines to listen to his so reasonable gospel. But the world continues to cling to an ultra-rational Gospel because it is instinctively aware that morality rests upon ultra-rational sanctions. Ethicism may borrow from Christianity the doctrine of the brotherhood of man, but it has no explanation to give of the basis supporting that axiom--why we ought to regard each human being as having certain indefeasible claims upon us, so that we may not treat him as a mere means subserving our ends. That position can never be defended on purely natural grounds; in the last analysis the brotherhood of man has a right to be accepted as true only by those who believe in the Fatherhood of God. In conclusion, as all true morality pre-supposes religion, so it is only religion which can supply the strongest incentive and encouragement to the good life; for it is religion alone which has the promise that the Good shall and must prevail, that the stars in their courses are fighting on the side of right and truth, and that it shall be well or ill with us according as we range ourselves on that side or in opposition to it. Take away the idea of a God whose will is that righteousness shall triumph, that life shall be lord of death, and {191} love victorious over all, and we have no guarantee but that all the efforts and sacrifices of martyr and reformer may be in vain, and the hope of the world a delusion. It is only the believer who can never despair, who knows that his work will endure and enrich the world--that there will be no collapse or final disarray, that the world is no blot nor blank, but means intensely and means good. It is that faith which makes endeavour and surrender worth while; that faith--the assurance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen--which alone gives us a right to sing Felix Adler's noble hymn:-- And the work that we have builded, Oft with bleeding hands and tears, Oft in error, oft in anguish, Will not perish with our years, It will rise and shine transfigured In the final reign of light; It will pass into the splendours Of the City of the Light. For the assurance which breathes in these lines rests on a previous, deeper assurance: it is that which the Christian expresses in the words, "_If God be for us, who is against us?_" [1] _Ethical Religion_, p. 48. [2] _Ibid_, p. 39. [3] See _A Few Points about Ethical Societies_, a tract issued by the Union of Ethical Societies. [4] _Ethical Religion_, pp. 81, 84, 86, 89; for a concise treatment of this subject the reader may be referred to the present writer's _Jesus or Christ_? chapter iv. [5] _History of European Morals_, ii., p. 26. [6] _Op. cit._, p. 38. [7] _Ibid._ pp. 16-18. [8] _Op. cit._, p. 17. [9] _Ibid._, p. 57. [10] "If for the word 'God' you read the 'universal life,'" writes the Rev. R. J. Campbell, "you have at once gained the ear of every high-minded thinking man to whom you appeal." (_The Christian Commonwealth_, April 14th, 1909.) Are we, then, to understand that if we want to appeal to high-minded thinking men, we must drop the term "God" and substitute for it, as being less offensive to these higher thinkers, some non-committal phrase like "universal life?" We say quite frankly that we are not prepared to pay such a price for making such a successful appeal; for the "universal life"--just because it is universal and all-embracing--is no more "good" than "bad"--it has no moral character, and hence can exercise no moral authority, nor generate any moral enthusiasm. [11] _What the Ethical Movement is_, by Harry Snell. {192} CHAPTER XI PROBLEMS OF PRAYER In the opening chapters of this book we had occasion once or twice to ask ourselves in passing how the new emphasis on the doctrine of Divine immanence was likely to affect the question of prayer; in turning now to a more direct treatment of the latter subject, this is again the first and most important query we shall have to consider. Truth, as we all know, is a "_mean_"--it represents a balance between opposing extremes; what is, however, not always recognised is that the extremes are not necessarily equidistant from the true centre, and there are cases when it is of the greatest importance to discern which of them is nearer and which more remote from the truth. In the present instance we have insisted all along that of the two possible extremes of Deism and Pantheism the former, with its exclusive insistance upon God's transcendence, is not only more intelligible but far more true than the latter, with its one-sided stress on His immanence; for, as we previously expressed it, in the exercise of religion it is the transcendent God {193} with whom we are concerned. In fact, Deism may be a very faulty type of religion, theoretically considered; but Pantheism is religion's practical annihilation. It is not for nothing that in Persia, _e.g._, the name of _Sufi_--in theory a pantheistic believer in the identity of the worshipper with his Deity--signifies in current use not a mystic, but a freethinker! So far as the religious _life_ is concerned, we repeat that Deism is the lesser error and the lesser danger; and nowhere is this more closely brought home to us than when we consider the reality and the meaning of prayer. For however far-off God may be thought to be, it has never been suggested that the voice of prayer is not able to travel across the distance--He may "hear us in heaven, His dwelling-place, and when He heareth, forgive;" but if His presence is so universally diffused that we ourselves form part of it, we shall hardly know to whom or to what to address ourselves in the act of adoration. We can pray to a Deity conceived as solely transcendent, but not to a Deity conceived as solely immanent, _i.e._, as the Sum of Being. A vague "cosmic emotion" differs _toto coelo_ from worship; we cannot worship that which includes us, for if we did we should be indulging in self-worship, and as for prayer, we could no more seriously offer it to the universe than to the atmosphere. This point cannot be too clearly realised. Prayer is the soul's communion with God; but if the soul is an {194} integral constituent of God, a mode or phase of the Divine Being, then this communion, being already an accomplished and unalterable fact, cannot be so much as desired, still less does it need to be brought about by prayer or any other means whatsoever. Nothing could be more instructive in this connection than what is apparently a favourite illustration with those for whom immanence is only a synonym for Monism, and which likens the relation of God to the individual soul to that subsisting between the ocean and some individual bay: "the hundred bays and gulfs and creeks that succeed each other round the island," we read, "_are in the ocean, and the ocean is in them._" [1] Now let us see what this means. There may be the most urgent necessity for digging channels to connect a reservoir with the sea, so that it may be filled with its fulness; but it would be absurd to speak of opening up or renewing communication between bay and ocean--a communication whose uninterrupted nature is implied in the very terms of the image. On such an interpretation of immanence, prayer in any real sense is either superfluous or impossible; for if no one hopeth for that which he {195} seeth, neither would any one in his senses seek to bring to pass a condition of things which is thought to be already existing. Here we see once more the unbridgeable gulf between every form of "idealistic Monism"--Eastern or Western--and Christianity; for while, _e.g._, "the central idea of Indian piety is meditation, the absorption of the individual in the life-spirit, the experience of identity with the universality and oneness of the Godhead," on the other hand "Christianity is the religion of prayer--prayer is its crown and its pearl." [2] That is really the crux of the whole matter; prayer must be conceived as an active intercourse between the worshipper and a Person other than himself, who is the object of his worship. It is not a soliloquy--what the Germans expressively call a _Selbstgespräch_, or "self-talk"; it is not a monologue, but a dialogue; it is not a mere contemplation, but addressed to Someone who is thought of as willing to listen and able to answer. As Sabatier has well said, "_Prayer is religion in act; that is, prayer is real religion_." Wherever men believe in a personal God, as distinct from an "all-inclusive consciousness of being" of which they are fleeting expressions--mere surface ripples on an infinite ocean--that belief will attest itself by the prayerful life. On the other hand, a prayerless religion is a contradiction in terms; it either has no needs to express or {196} it will die from lack of self-expression. The believer will pray from a sense of inner necessity, coupled with the instinctive assurance that the need of which he is conscious will thus, and thus only, meet with its satisfaction. "The genuineness of religion"--to quote Professor William James--"is thus indissolubly bound up with the question whether the prayerful consciousness be or be not deceitful. The conviction that something is genuinely transacted in this consciousness is the very core of living religion." [3] Is there, then, or is there not, something "genuinely transacted" in the experience of prayer? A transaction, _ex hypothesi_, can only take place between two parties; it implies two volitional centres. And, furthermore, what is it that is transacted? Is prayer only a very noble form of auto-suggestion--are its effects merely subjective, or are they also objective? These are problems which could hardly be said to exist for an earlier age; to the modern mind they are intensely real, and press for answers. It must be recognised at once that the idea of God as immanent in nature, expressing Himself in those observed uniformities to which we give the name of natural laws, creates difficulties of its own in regard to this subject; for if these laws show forth His will, is it even thinkable that our formulated desires could move Him to depart from what we might speak of as His original {197} intention? His will is either the absolutely best or it is not; if it is, why pray that He may modify it? If it is not, is He not less than perfectly good, since His design admits of improvement? Can we conceive of Him as doing something in answer to a human petition which He would not do apart from such a petition? Can we think of Him as being prevailed upon by our assiduities and importunities to alter His decrees--is not this whole notion rather paltry and derogatory to His dignity? Everybody is familiar with these questions and arguments; let us see in what proportion truth and error are combined in them. (1) A good deal of unnecessary difficulty arises in the first place from the habitual failure of many people to bear in mind that though God is immanent in the cosmos, He is not _only_ immanent; as soon as His transcendence is realised, it is seen that there exists no _a priori_ reason against the possibility of what from our point of view would look like Divine interpositions in the ordinary course of nature. We have, it must be remembered, not the slightest grounds for assuming that there can be no departures from the uniformities of nature, nor are we in a position to state dogmatically that no imaginable conditions would ever furnish an adequate reason for such a departure. Admitting that the regular processes observed in the physical universe represent something of the Divine mode of action, we have no {198} warrant for maintaining that these are the only modes of such action; probability, in effect, is all the other way. "Lo, these are but the outskirts of His ways; and how small a whisper do we hear of Him! _But the thunder of His power who can understand?_" A transcendent God is _eo ipso_ not limited to such methods as we happen to have caught a glimpse or a whisper of. (2) But when this is clearly understood, it has on the other hand to be as frankly admitted--indeed, it is stating the obvious to say--that in modern times the idea of the uniformity of nature has obtained such a hold upon the general educated mind as renders any breach of that order far more improbable to us than it could have appeared to a pre-scientific generation. All physical science rests, broadly speaking, upon the assumption that nature acts uniformly; without saying that it must be so, we are well assured that it is so, because all observation and experiment are found to bear out the truth of the principle we have assumed. All we have learned concerning nature excludes the notion that there is anything haphazard or arbitrary in her ways. We do not feel at all as though the action of natural forces might be suspended or modified for our particular benefit, and hence certain ideas of the efficacy of prayer--_e.g._, for rain or fine weather--have become impossible for us to entertain with the ease of our ancestors. We start with a mental attitude--hardly {199} to be called a prejudice, since it is based upon a large body of experience--of profound assurance that in matters like these the will of God finds its expression in the unbroken operation of His ordinary laws, "without variableness or shadow of turning"; most people, moreover, would acknowledge that it is better that these laws should be stable and capable of being learned and depended upon than that the Divine will should be incalculable--_ondoyant et divers_--a matter of moods on His side and of importunity on ours. Tennyson's familiar lines represent the typically modern outlook with the utmost accuracy and conciseness:-- God is Law, say the wise; O soul, and let us rejoice[1] For if He thunder by law, the thunder is yet His Voice. (3) And while the scientific temper of the present day could not fail to affect our thoughts concerning prayer in some directions, the same has surely to be said about the ethical temper of the age, as shown in our enlarged conceptions of God. To put it bluntly, much of the language about what used to be called "special providences" has become unreal and ceased to be edifying for us. On this whole subject some words of Principal Adeney's can hardly be bettered:-- Under the old theory God had His favourites who were saved by hair-breadth escapes, in accidents that were fatal to persons who were not the objects of "special providences"; this was supposed to account for the fact that one man in particular found that somebody else {200} had taken the last berth in the ship he had meant to sail by, and so escaped the fate of the crew and passengers when it went down with all on board--no "special providence" saving them. It looks like a reflection of the pagan mythological tales about heroes rescued by the timely interference of gods and goddesses in battles where thousands of common mortals perish unheeded. It is the aristocratic idea of privilege carried up to religion. The newer view is more democratic, and it seems to agree better with our Lord's assurance that not a sparrow falls to the ground without our Father's notice, that the very hairs of our heads are all numbered.[4] All this has its direct bearing upon the subject of prayer. We may still be occasionally regaled with stories of one solitary sailor being saved--Providence looking after him in response to his mother's petitions--while every other soul on board was drowned; but these narratives, once irresistible in the impression they created, are to-day received with somewhat mixed feelings. The view of God's character which they inculcate is apt to strike us as unsatisfactory; that He should avert a great and presumedly unmerited physical calamity from one individual simply and solely because He has been asked to do so by some other individual, while allowing the same calamity to overtake numerous others no more deserving of affliction, does not fit in with our conception of Him. We are slowly learning to substitute for the notion of any kind of preferential treatment at the hand of God a belief in the unchanging goodness of His decrees, in the wisdom of His counsel, {201} and in the reality of His abiding and enfolding love; by Providence we mean something that is neither local nor personal, nor particular, but universal--the Providence of unchanging law--that living and loving Will which "knoweth altogether." (4) But if, owing to such considerations as these, we are less inclined to-day to frame certain kinds of petition, or to expect them to be answered, it is also true that we are increasingly coming to re-discover what should never have been forgotten, _viz._, that petition is not the whole but only a part, and perhaps a subordinate part, of prayer. A glance at our Lord's priceless bequest to humanity, the Model Prayer, should suffice to place this beyond a doubt. If we study it clause by clause, we find that the first place is assigned simply to _adoration_, and the claiming of the supreme privilege of spiritual communion, with an implicit, although not explicit, _thanksgiving_ for that privilege; next we find two clauses expressive of _aspiration_ for the achievement of the highest aims, with the implied vow to help on their realisation by our own conduct and efforts; and not until then do we come upon a _supplication_, which moreover prays only for the simplest of material blessings--for bare sustenance, in fact. This is followed by _confession_, with a prayer for mercy, and a promise to show ourselves merciful to our brethren; and a prayer for deliverance {202} and guidance brings us to the final act of _praise_. Thus, with one most modest exception, the blessings which God is asked to bestow are spiritual blessings; for a petition asking, _e.g._, that the operation of some natural law may be temporarily suspended for our benefit we should look altogether in vain. In any case we ought to learn from the one prayer which our Lord expressly taught His disciples to give to mere petition a much less prominent place than it usually occupies; adoration, confession and thanksgiving should between them take the predominant share in our communion with the Most High, thus correcting the tendency to make of prayer a mere recital of wants more or less indiscriminately addressed to the Divine bounty. The supreme object to be kept in view is that we should become of God's way of thinking--not that we should attempt to make Him of ours; in Matthew Henry's shrewd comparison, prayer is like the boat-hook, which brings the boat to the land, not the land to the boat. But when we have clarified our ideas on the subject to this extent, we must once more face the question suggested by Professor James--_What is it that is transacted_? The effect of prayer upon those who offer it is too well-attested to be called into doubt; what we have to ask ourselves, however, is whether those effects are, in the strict sense of the term, purely "subjective," _i.e._, as we {203} previously expressed it, in the nature of a noble auto-suggestion. The answer to that query must in the last resort be determined by our thought concerning God and our relation to Him. Let it be said once more: if, with the pantheist, we assume that we are essentially and inalienably one with the All--part of It, as the bay is of the ocean--prayer, as the theist understands it, is a self-contradiction; if offered at all, it will be, not the establishment of a relation which is _ex hypothesi_ always in being, but at most a clearer realisation by the particle of its fundamental identity with the Whole. Prayer is founded upon the belief that the Deity is at least interested in His worshipper--or else, why speak to the Unheeding? But Spinozism distinctly denies the possibility of God's entertaining any feelings towards individuals--indeed, Spinoza condemns the individual's desire for God's personal love; at most he will admit that "'God, inasmuch as He loves Himself, loves men,' because men are parts and proportions of God. . . The complacency of the Universe in its self-awareness, the love of God towards Himself, as Spinoza has it, includes us in its embrace, and that is enough." [5] We reply that this "complacency of the Universe in its self-awareness" may be enough for Spinozists; but it is not enough to move men to prayer--and this is borne out by Mr. Picton's total silence on this {204} topic in his exposition of his Master's doctrine. Mr. Chesterton, with his usual felicity of phrase, hits the nail on the head when he says that upon this principle "the whole cosmos is only one enormously selfish person;" certainly it should be clear that on this assumption, as there can be no return of affection from a God whose love is only self-love, so the effect of prayer can only be that which is produced upon the soul by its consciousness--supposed to be elevating--of being an infinitesimal fraction of an infinite totality. We say that this consciousness is supposed to be elevating, though why it should be so is not quite apparent; for whatever this heterogeneous sum-total of existences may be, it is not, in our sense of the term, _good_, as the God of Christianity is good. But if, instead of losing ourselves in the fog-land of Pantheism, Theosophy and their unavowed congeners, we take our stand upon the firm belief in the otherness of God, the case alters altogether. Prayer at once becomes rational instead of being a contradiction in terms; it is the accomplishment of something which is not already accomplished; it springs from the consciousness of a spiritual need, it is born of the instinct of spiritual self-preservation. It sets up a connection between two centres--man and God--which can only be connected because of a fundamental likeness subsisting between them; but the _likeness_ is not _oneness_--indeed, the latter would exclude {205} the former, for only separates can be like each other. On this theory prayer is no mere meditation, but an intense and strenuous endeavour to make actual something that is only potential; to use the simile we previously employed, it is a digging of channels along which the sea may pour of its fulness into an inland reservoir. That this is what really takes place in prayer--that there is such a real response from Him to whom it is directed--we have no hesitation whatever in affirming; and this notwithstanding the fact that such an experience cannot be proved to one who has not shared it, any more than we can convey a sense of the grandeur of Mont Blanc to one whose eye has never beheld its majestic proportions. Evidently, in this as in every corresponding case the testimony of those who say that they have had a certain experience must be preferred to that of others who can only say that they have not had it; and the witness to spiritual renewal, reinforcement, replenishing received in prayer--to the entering in of a Presence when the doors were thrown open; to a peace and blessedness which were not of the world's giving--this witness is so strong and so uniform that we have no choice but to pronounce it decisive. In every such case something had been "genuinely transacted"; not only had man spoken, but God had answered--the worshipper had not merely invoked, but in a very real sense he had evoked, the Divine Presence. {206} But can we go any further than this? Can we, that is to say, maintain that God answers prayer, not only by flooding the adoring soul with fresh strength, gladness, confidence, but by bringing to pass events which otherwise would not have come about? This "objective efficacy" of prayer, in the narrower sense, is frequently doubted to-day; but, as we shall attempt to show, upon grounds which, when examined, prove untenable. The difficulty, as it is most generally stated, arises from a misunderstanding; answers to prayer are regarded as interferences with the uniformities of nature, as arbitrary--and therefore unthinkable--interruptions of the chain of cause and effect, for which there can be no room in an orderly universe. This, no doubt, was what Turgenev meant when he asked, "Does not all prayer mean _au fond_ a wish that in a given case two and two may not make four?" That Turgenev's aphorism quite illegitimately narrows down the meaning of prayer to petition, may pass; it is more important for us to investigate his implied challenge--the grounds upon which he expresses his absolute disbelief in the fulfilment of such petitions.[6] A simple preliminary reflection should come to our aid. God is surely always bringing things to pass on condition that we first do certain other things, and on no other conditions {207} whatsoever. The seeking has to go before the finding, the knocking to precede the opening of the doors. He will give us waving corn, providing the ground is ploughed and sown; that is to say, He answers our request, if we will make it in the right manner--He lays down certain rules on compliance with which we may secure certain blessings. Is it objected that ploughing and sowing, unlike prayer, are physical exertions made for the purpose of bringing about physical results? That would be a very superficial view; it is certainly truer to say that they are acts of will, and even acts of faith; and in the ultimate analysis the power which has produced the harvest is not the power of matter, but of mind--the mind of man acting in accordance with the Mind of God. Man has asked, God has answered; and would not have answered in that particular manner but for the particular manner of that request. Let us go a step further, still keeping to the obvious. Most visitors to Geneva have made the short excursion to the _Forces matrices_, the great power-station where the swift waters of the Rhone are pressed into the service of man and made to light the streets, propel the tramways and drive all the machinery of the {208} city. Now these vast powers were always there--no law of nature was broken, nor any new one introduced, when they were utilised to lighten man's labours and multiply his energies; all that has happened is that man has discovered existing laws and harnessed them to his use, and once more the real _force motrice_ resides not in those silently-revolving engines that generate the electric current, but in the mind that devised and controls them. Thought, then--unseen, impalpable--is energy in its essence, the master force which directs, subdues and uses matter; and in prayer we have already seen that we place ourselves in communication with the Central Force of the universe, acquiring power we should not otherwise possess, and replenishing our emptiness from an inexhaustible store. But if thought, mind, will, are that which lies behind all physical accomplishment, from the simplest to the most wonderful; and if by an exercise of the same faculty we may actually secure results of a spiritual order, direct answering messages, from God: why should it be _a priori_ unthinkable that we may by the same agency of prayer obtain more "objective" responses, _viz._, the fulfilment of our petitions? Frankly, we can discover no theoretical grounds on which such a possibility could be merely waved on one side as not worth consideration. Shall we be told that we cannot think that God would grant a certain wish only on condition that we {209} expressed it to Him? But we have already found that in the regular experience of life the Divine bounty seems to come in response to human efforts which are ultimately efforts of the will. Once more, everything depends upon our thought of God; if He is such as Jesus taught us to regard Him, may it not well be that His Fatherly love goes out to us in fullest measure when we call upon it with fullest and most childlike trust? If it is urged that God would surely under all circumstances grant His children whatever may contribute to their happiness, we need only observe that every parent has had occasion to say to a much-loved child, "You shall have this when you know how to ask for it." The truth has been stated with characteristic simplicity and insight by Dr. James Drummond, in the words, "If God has left certain things dependent on the action of the human will, He may also have left certain things dependent on human petition." [7] So much is sure, that in all true prayer we set spiritual forces in motion, to whose effects upon ourselves we can bear witness; and if their action in one direction is an ascertained fact, however mysterious and inexplicable, with what warrant shall we deny the possibility of their acting in another? Certainly we shall not argue that such action involves an "interference" with natural law; and if we have to admit our ignorance as to {210} _how_ such a force would operate and bring results to pass, let us remind ourselves that the ultimate "how?"--the bridge between antecedent and consequent, and why the former should be followed by the latter--always and inevitably escapes us. Why in the thousand and more observed forms of snow-crystals the filaments of ice should always be arranged at angles of 60 degrees or 120 degrees; why sulphate of potash and sulphate of alumina should crystallise in octahedrons or in cubes, but in no other forms; what is the real connection between molecular changes in the brain-substance and states of consciousness--all these, and a myriad more, are unsolved mysteries: we can only say that we are dealing with facts of experience. And as in these and countless other cases, so here also, in this matter of answers to prayer, the final and only test is that of experience. That a vessel in distress should be able to send a message to another vessel a hundred miles out of sight, and summon it to its aid, would have struck an earlier generation as a piece of wild romancing--but we know it is actually done; that a soul's earnest prayer may avail to enlist mighty energies in its help and so to bring about results which otherwise would not have come to pass, ought hardly to strike the present age as an inherently incredible proposition. But we shall be told that our parallel does not hold good: if the Marconi apparatus failed seven times out of ten, we should hardly {211} think it worth while to provide our ships with so unreliable an instrument; yet who would say that even three out of ten prayers for stated objects met with fulfilment? The objection, however, is not unanswerable; indeed, the very comparison employed in stating it may enable us to supply at least a partial answer. For we understand that the success of wireless messages being transmitted and received depends upon absolutely perfect "tuning"; the electric waves set up, _i.e._, will only act upon a receiver most delicately attuned to a particular rate of oscillations, and when the difference between the rate of oscillation of the waves and the receiver exceeds one per cent., resonance ceases altogether, so that the message may be sent, but will not be received. It strikes us as hardly a fanciful supposition that many prayers fail to obtain an answer for a precisely analogous reason, _i.e._, for lack of attuning. The mere uttering of devotional phraseology, or even the sending forth of anguished appeals, does not of necessity constitute true prayer at all, and hence remains ineffective, because the soul is not really _en rapport_ with God. We suggest that the supplication which "availeth much in its working" will be the outcome of a whole spiritual discipline, whereby the individual spirit has become attuned to the Spirit whom it seeks; if the majority of prayers go unanswered, it is because they are mere recitals of a tale of wants, without even an attempt upon the {212} part of those who utter them to put themselves into the attitude upon which an answer depends. On the other hand, where the adjustment of which we speak has reached a high state of perfection, the soul not only transmits its message to God with the perfect assurance of being heard, but it is also continually sensitive to the messages which incessantly flash through the spiritual ether from God, but which only those can hear who have learned the secret of listening for His word. In dealing with this question of unanswered prayer, we have given the first place to what seems to us the most important as well as the least frequently regarded reason--the lack of spiritual discipline, which is ultimately the lack of faith, with which we pray. When we remember, moreover, that many of our petitions are framed in very natural and inevitable ignorance of what is for our truest good, we realise another and very obvious reason for the non-fulfilment of a large proportion of the wishes we lay before the throne of God, whose goodness is as much attested by what He denies to our foolishness as by what He grants to our entreaties. And how numerous are the prayers which reflection and an awakened moral sense rule out of court: prayers which ask God to do for us by special intervention what we ought to do for ourselves by our own effort and industry; prayer for success in dealings and enterprises which in themselves are ethically {213} unjustifiable, and to which the only answer could be, "Thou thoughtest that I was altogether such an one as thyself"; prayers which carry the spirit of egoism, of competition, of bargaining even into our relations with the Most High; prayers of an imprecatory character such as meet and shock us in some of the psalms. How could these and their like possibly be granted by a just and merciful Creator? But apart from such presumptuous, foolish, or impious supplications as are at once repulsed and rebuked by the Divine silence, what are the objects we may lawfully pray for, asking for a response? It must be confessed that with the exception of petitions for spiritual blessings--for a deeper faith, for a more complete obedience, for a humbler heart, for a wider sympathy--such as can never be out of place, it is impossible to draw a hard-and-fast line; there is, indeed, a whole vast category of possible objects of prayer which one cannot _a priori_ pronounce legitimate or otherwise. We can only humbly confess that "we know not how to pray as we ought," nor what things it is in our best interest to have granted or withheld from us; but with this proviso, and with the clause, "Nevertheless, not my will but Thine," added to our petitions, there can be no wrong in making our requests to God for every manner of blessing, material or otherwise, and whether on our own behalf or on behalf of others. Here we may surely with {214} all confidence and with all reverence invoke the analogy of human parenthood. No true earthly parent is offended or moved to impatience by his children expressing to him all their wants and wishes with perfect unreserve, even though his loving wisdom has anticipated their real needs, and will decide which of their desires may be granted; indeed, as we already hinted, the granting of those desires may depend to some extent upon the children's attitude, upon the filial, trustful, affectionate disposition they exhibit. So in regard to the supplications we address to our Father in Heaven: we cannot think of His being moved by our mere importunity, or by the mechanical repetition of set phrases; but that the fulfilment of some wish of ours may be conditioned by our humility and confidence in expressing it, presents no improbability. In any case, what is necessary on our part is that we should have faith, not only in God's _power_ to grant our petitions, but in His _wisdom_ in granting or refusing them as may be most expedient for us. We ourselves can, within limits, fulfil most of our children's requests; but a wise and loving parent will many a time say "no," when his child may marvel at what to him must seem a mere arbitrary or even unkind refusal of an innocent desire. That hapless man of genius, the late John Davidson, condensed the truth into one illuminating phrase when he spoke of prayer rightly uttered as {215} "submissive aspiration"; it would be difficult to devise another form of words equally brief yet containing so much of the essence of the matter. Even short of actual fulfilment, it is an immeasurable privilege simply to speak to God about all the things that weigh on our minds, assured of His hearing, nor should the fact that He knows all about our troubles before we open our lips concerning them restrain our utterance; for our object is not to give Him information, but to place ourselves in conscious communion with Him, and by viewing our affairs in His light to see light. This applies to all our petitions, and perhaps in an especial measure to intercessory prayer, those touching requests which we send up for our dear ones in sickness, peril, sorrow, need, or any other adversity. Of course, all such intercessions ought to be mentally qualified by the assurance that God will do what is best, even though we may be unable to understand His decrees; but there is nothing unreasonable in the belief that our prayers for others may be, and frequently are, directly effective, setting energies in motion which might otherwise have remained latent and inoperative. How these energies operate may be quite beyond our power to ascertain or even to guess; but if--to say it once more--the action of matter on matter, the "how" of chemical combinations, eludes us, shall we complain because the action of mind on mind, spirit on spirit, is no {216} less elusive? The final test--whether, _e.g._, a mother's prayer that her absent son may be preserved from the snare of some great temptation, is able to work a change in his mind--is, as we said above, the test of experience; and unless we are dogmatically determined to reject all testimony which bears on this subject, there seems no escaping the conclusion that specific prayers have been specifically, directly, and unmistakeably answered in instances too numerous to admit of explanation by coincidence.[8] The volume of human testimony bearing on this subject is too great to be swept aside by a simple refusal to consider it; if there is no insurmountable logical obstacle to the possibility of prayer proving objectively effective--and we have tried to show that there are no such obstacles--we must examine the alleged instances of such answers without prejudice; and if we do so, then, after making all legitimate deductions, we shall still find a body of residual fact which is not to be explained away. By all means, then, we conclude, let us obey the instincts which urge us to turn to God in {217} prayer; they lie deeper and are less fallible--embodying as they do the experience of the race--than our individual reasonings. We may tell our Father in all simplicity of whatever desires we may cherish with an approving conscience, leaving the fulfilment to His wise and steadfast love; it is not the ignorance of our requests but the faithlessness of our spirits that we most stand in need of guarding against. Let us here, as elsewhere, follow the example of the Son of God, whose unique intimacy with the Father made Him only the more earnest in communing with Him, least lonely when alone with God. Above all, let us bear in mind that the best prayer is that which has least of self-seeking in it, but is answered in the making, and so sends us back to our tasks--perhaps to our trials--refreshed as by a draught from some hidden and precious spring, renewed in manhood and nearer to God. In the oft-quoted aphorism of George Meredith, "He who rises from his prayer a better man, his prayer is answered." As a Greater than Meredith said, "Your Heavenly Father knoweth that ye have need of all these things; but seek ye first His Kingdom, and His righteousness, and all these things shall be added unto you." The ideal prayer is that which will ask little, aspire much, submit altogether; it is the soul's complete surrender to and rest in God. [1] The Rev. E. W. Lewis, M.A., B.D., in a paper on "The Divine Immanence, its Meaning and its Implications." Compare also _The New Theology_, p. 34. As Dr. William Adamson observes, "The illustration is unfortunate. The supposed ocean is to be thought of as infinite, and the bay is finite, but in their essence and existence they are essentially one. There can be no bay where there is no boundary, and where in this case could the boundary be found, for there can be nothing outside the infinite?" [2] Bousset, _Faith of a Modern Protestant_, p. 59. [3] _The Varieties of Religious Experience_, p. 466. [4] _A Century's Progress_, p. 105-6. [5] _Spinoza_, by J. Allanson Picton, p. 213. [6] So far, of course, as such an attitude may be the outcome of an antecedent disbelief in God, it is perfectly logical; only we have no common ground with those who take that view. It is otherwise, however, where an avowed acceptance of Theism is nevertheless accompanied by doubts as regards any objective effects flowing from supplications addressed to God; it is with such doubts as these that we are concerned. [7] _Studies in Christian Doctrine_, p. 197. [8] Precisely such an instance was brought under the notice of the present writer by a correspondent, whose prayers that an absent one in distant lands might be able to resist the power of strong temptation was "heard" past all doubting--and that without the object of these petitions being aware of the cause, as let a remark of his own attest: "I don't know why, but sometimes I feel myself in some way held back from doing certain things--how, I cannot explain; I only know that I should do as others do, were it not for this compelling feeling." {218} CHAPTER XII IMMORTALITY Throughout the preceding pages we have been principally engaged in tracing the effects of the idea of Divine immanence upon the main contents of religious thought. While trying to show that this idea, rightly understood and set in its proper place, embodies an important and at one time unduly neglected truth, we have also seen that its misinterpretation and over-emphasis--the tendency to view it as not only true but as constituting the whole truth--is attended by dangers of a particularly grave character. Under whatever name, idealistic Monism or any other, the doctrine which recognises only one ultimate Existence expressing itself in all things and working its will in all events, is fatal to any religion worthy the name; indeed, since the term "religion" indicates a _link_, and a link is possible only between things or beings requiring to be held together, the fundamental tenet of Monism excludes religion in the only vital sense it has ever been known to bear, and more especially the Christian religion. Quite {219} inevitably it abandons the personality and Fatherhood of God, the selfhood and freedom of man, the reality of sin and evil, which it describes as "not-being," and the value and rationality of prayer--for how or to whom can we pray if we are already "on the eternal throne"? Quite inevitably, therefore, we may add, the votaries of this philosophy, in attempting to accommodate it to the facts of life, the intuitions of the moral self and the aspirations of the soul, are faced everywhere by irreconcilable antinomies and "find no end, in wandering mazes lost." Are the assumptions of the monist any more in harmony with the doctrine of immortality than with those other beliefs with which it thus finds itself at variance? We have already seen that they are not: neither the Monism of Mr. Picton nor that of Mr. Wells leaves any room for personal survival--as is, indeed, only to be expected in accordance with their premises; for if the individual as such does not really exist, why should he persist? And from yet another monistic quarter we are oracularly assured that we shall "one day know that the end of our being is that it may _be submerged without reserve in the infinite ocean of God_." Nothing could be more definite; nor, it must be confessed, more utterly hopeless. To be "submerged without reserve" is to cease from even the illusion of individuality; it is absorption, Nirvana. {220} In taking up this position, in finally quenching The hope whereto so passionately cling The dreaming generations from of old, the monist is merely true to his creed; we may, however, express a preference that he should do so without religious circumlocutions--that the verdict should be, as in the famous historical instance, "_la mort, sans phrase_." When Mr. Wells says-- I do not believe I have any personal immortality. . . The experiment will be over, the rinsed beaker returned to its shelf, the crystals gone dissolving down the wastepipe--[1] we know where we are, and feel thankful to the author for his frankness; to talk about submersion in "the infinite ocean of God," on the other hand, invests an idea which, nakedly stated, means annihilation pure and simple, with a pseudo-religious air which is far more subtly dangerous. Indeed, of the various expedients for extinguishing men's faith in the life to come, this is probably the most insidiously effective in use to-day; it is the silken handkerchief, drenched with chloroform and held quite gently to the victim's face--a lethal weapon in all but appearance. And there are some who are attracted by the faint, cloying odour of this chloroform. Before we examine this fashionable doctrine of absorption, however, it may be well to deal {221} with certain other causes which between them account for much of the uneasiness--often unavowed but nevertheless very real--concerning a future life, which unquestionably is widely felt in our day. All assertions to the contrary notwithstanding, it is a case of uneasiness, and not of indifference; the bravado which professes to give thanks to "whatever gods there be"-- That no life lives for ever That dead men rise up never, That even the weariest river Winds somewhere safe to sea-- convinces no one. Most men have known moods of severe depression and lassitude when not to be at all seemed the one consummation to be desired; but that is not the normal attitude of normal people. Such would still fain believe that the grave is not the end, but many of them are in a state of bewilderment and insecurity. On the one hand men have never grown reconciled to the heart-breaking triviality of death, never accepted this dispensation without a question, a hope, or, failing hope, a sense of rebellion; on the other, we have to recognise that we live in an age when multitudes have ceased to accept religious beliefs simply upon the authority of the Bible--when educated people generally have come quite definitely to disbelieve in the resurrection of the body, a final day of judgment, a localised {222} heaven and material hell--an age which must be one of manifold doubts and misgivings. But this break-up of Biblical authority and its unquestioning acceptance is itself largely due to that resistless advance of physical science which has reconstructed the world for us with such masterful hands. The results of the modern conception of the universe are only just beginning to get into our system; as yet they are still largely unassimilated, and give us trouble accordingly. Let us take such a statement as the following, and imagine its effect upon the average individual:-- Think of Mercury in its wild rush through the solar heat, or Venus gleaming in the western sky, or ruddy Mars with its tantalising problems, or of mighty Jupiter 1,230 times the size of our own planet, or of Saturn with its wondrous rings, or of Uranus and Neptune revolving in their tremendous orbits--the latter nearly three thousand millions of miles away from the centre of our system. . . But the true awfulness is yet untouched. What of the millions of millions of suns that blaze in immeasurable space beyond our comparatively little solar sphere? Sirius alone, at the foot of the constellation of Orion, is 125 times larger than our sun. Fifteen hundred millions of millions of miles away, where ordinary eyes dimly descry half a dozen points of light, the telescope reveals more than a thousand orbs, some seventy of them vaster than our sun. What indeed is the whole of this our tiny planet compared with Alcyone--1,000 times larger than our central sun![2] These, of course, are among the commonplaces of modern astronomy; but we do not think we {223} are wrong in saying that they leave a great many minds singularly ill at ease, in a condition of vague but unmistakeable discomfort, oppressed by the vastness of the universe as revealed by science, feeling lost and utterly insignificant in this illimitable expanse of worlds on circling worlds, and aeons upon exhaustless aeons. It was possible, when the universe was regarded as a comparatively small affair, with our earth as its veritable centre, to think oneself of sufficient value in the scheme of things to live for ever; but now such a claim seems to not a few grotesque in its presumption. Have we not been told by Mr. Balfour that, so far as natural science by itself is able to teach us, man's "very existence is an accident, his story a brief and discreditable episode in the life of one of the meanest of the planets"?--and shall such a one, member of such a race, dream of prolonging his atomic existence world without end? As Lucretius asked:-- What! Shall the dateless worlds to dust be blown Back to the unremembered and unknown, And this frail Thou--this flame of yesterday-- Burn on, forlorn, immortal, and alone? This mental attitude, familiar enough nowadays, has been forcibly and typically expressed in a clever, melancholy book, _The Letters Which never Reached Him_. "We suffer," the author says, "from our own diminutiveness and from the narrow limits of our life and knowledge since the endlessness of space and time have {224} been taught to us. People of former epochs cannot have known this contrast between human smallness and the world's infinity; they must have been more contented, because they fancied they were made in right proportion to everything else." Such conditions as these favoured the flourishing of "that highest blossom of the conviction of personal importance, the belief in one's eternal individual continuance." "But one who has been cast by the waves on countless foreign shores, and who has reflected that everywhere, and since times infinite, millions and millions have been born and buried without leaving by their coming and going more trace than the swarms of insects which for a moment glide through the rays of the sun--such a one loses the belief in the importance of all transitory phases, and doubts the inner necessity of an eternal continuance for all those ephemeral, ant-like existences which in endless, unchanging repetitions ever rise anew to disappear again." Modern astronomy and geology, by expanding the world beyond all conception, seem, in fact, but to emphasise Omar Khayyam's mocking lines:-- And fear not lest Existence, closing your Account and mine, should know the like no more; The Eternal Saki from that bowl hath pour'd Millions of Bubbles like us, and will pour. And if such are the reflections forced upon us by the contemplation of the vastness of {225} the cosmos--a vastness in whose midst we feel homeless and forlorn--it has further to be remembered that the attitude of modern science, as embodied in that of some of its most confident and popular representatives, has been distinctly and openly unfavourable to belief in a future life. If man was truly descended from the lower creation, it seemed obvious to infer that as had been his origin, so also would be his destiny--the destiny of the beasts that perish. The _Kraft und Stoff_ school of physicists proclaimed aloud that consciousness was only a function of the brain, and would come to a stop together with the mechanism which produced it; as Haeckel expressed it, "The various functions of the soul are bound up with certain special parts of the brain, and cannot be exercised unless these are in a normal condition; if the areas are destroyed their function is extinguished; and this is especially applicable to the 'organs of thought,' the four central instruments of mental activity." [3] But if our inner life was merely the counterpart of certain changes in the grey matter of the brain, how could the function be expected to persist after its organ had undergone decay? Such, in short, are our principal modern difficulties with regard to belief in a life to come; do they, or do they not, present valid and insuperable obstacles to a reasonable faith? {226} (1) While making all allowance for the feeling of insignificance and forlornness which is apt to overwhelm us when we begin to realise the immensity of the material universe, a little closer thought should make it obvious that nothing in the nature of mere bulk or bigness furnishes even a reasonable presumption, let alone a convincing argument, against the survival of the soul; it is indeed difficult to perceive what legitimate bearing these physical phenomena are supposed to have upon a purely spiritual question. If we are to argue on _a priori_ grounds, we are on the contrary justified in saying that the human mind, which has discovered and is capable of co-ordinating the myriad facts concerning the world of matter that make up modern science, is itself something far more wonderful than any of its discoveries, or the sum of them. If we are asked, "Is it conceivable that suns and stars shall pass away--as they undoubtedly will--and that man shall persist?" we can but answer, "Yes; it is very conceivable; for man is far more highly organised than suns and stars, moves on an immeasurably higher level, can reason, look before and after, form ideals of conduct, reach out in love, and think the thoughts of God after Him." As soon as we leave the lower reaches of being, bulk is seen to matter very little. The immense proportions of those flying reptiles and other monsters which peopled the earth in pre-historic {227} times did not protect them against dying out, and their places being taken by much slighter creatures which had some more valuable attributes than size; the _diplodocus Carnegii_ in the British Museum measures some seventy-five feet, but that fact did not prevent the species from becoming extinct uncounted ages since--simply because it was lacking in the higher qualities which would have enabled it to survive. And even the _diplodocus_, with its lumbering body and diminutive brain, was whole worlds superior to inorganic nature. That the marvellous thing called human personality should outlast the decay of what is so much inferior to itself, is therefore not only not inconceivable, but in itself not even improbable. It is a strange sort of modesty--to say the least of it--which would make us think ourselves of less account in the scale of existence or the sight of God than unconscious matter in its cruder and lower stages. One might as sensibly urge that the delicate hairspring of a watch, being of featherweight and almost invisible, must be worth less than a lump of crude iron-ore. (2) We turn to the supposed argument from evolution, _viz._, from man's lowly origin, as furnishing a strong presumption against his immortality. This plea, familiar enough in sceptical discussions of the subject, has been put forward with great poetic force by Mr. William Watson; after graphically describing {228} "the gibbering form obscene that was and was not man," as lower in many respects than the beasts and birds in whose midst he dwelt, he suggests that it was Rather some random throw Of heedless Nature's die, 'Twould seem, that from so low Hath lifted man so high. If, then, our rise from gloom Hath this capricious air, What ground is mine to assume An upward process there, In yonder worlds that shine From upward tracts of sky? No ground to assume is mine Nor warrant to deny. Equal, my source of hope, my reason for despair. But, with great admiration for Mr. Watson as a poet, it is impossible not to recognise that at least two radical flaws lurk in his agnostic argument. In the first place, he makes the mistake of judging issues by origins instead of origins by issues; the sub-human beginnings of man trouble us not at all, since we can see in the subsequent history of the race how great were the possibilities infolded in that "gibbering form obscene," and unfolded in a Plato, a Raphael, a Shakespeare. That such a development from such a lowly initial stage should have been so much as possible, is in itself significant of much; for nothing is evolved that was not first involved. But in the second place, Mr. Watson's assumption that the process which lifted man from the level of the {229} brute to one immeasurably higher was dictated by "hap and hazard" strikes us as wholly gratuitous. On the face of it, that process, in itself so little to be expected, bears the mark, not of chance but of its very contrary. That the cosmic drama should have followed this particular course; that from the cooling down of fiery nebulas there should have come forth the orderly system we behold in nature; that life should have climbed up from the speck of protoplasm "through primal ooze and slime," making its way step by step through all the lower creation until it "blossomed into man"--this, to the unbiassed mind, does not wear the aspect of mere incalculable accident, but of all-embracing wisdom and directivity. And once we have shaken off the delusion that the marvellous order and progress we behold in nature are the outcome of chance, we have the best of reasons for assuming that the same "upward process" will still continue, reaching forward from the seen to the unseen; at any rate, so well-qualified and thorough-going an evolutionist as Professor Fiske gave it as his mature opinion that "in the course of evolution there is no more philosophical difficulty in man's acquiring immortal life, than in his acquiring the erect posture and articulate speech." [4] {230} And the reasonableness of this view grows the clearer to us the more we realise the purposive character of the evolutionary process. The unmistakeable purpose of that process is the production of the higher from the lower; all through the ages the vast design works itself out in a ceaseless ascending movement, the theme expanding, its meaning becoming more apparent. Then, when a certain point in this development has been reached, evolution takes a direction such as no one could have forecast: "its operation upon the physical frame is diverted to the mind, the centre of interest transferred from the outward organism to the inner forces of which it is the vehicle"--and man becomes a living soul. Since, then, it has taken all these myriad ages, all this immense expenditure of planning and energy, to produce what is incontestably the crowning work of creation on this globe, must we not say that this was the issue towards which the whole process was set in motion from the very beginning? And if this is so, are we to think that at the end, when its carefully, patiently wrought-out purpose has been attained, this process suddenly turns irrational, and hands over its last and highest product to destruction? As has been well said, "To suppose that what has been evolved at such cost will suddenly collapse, is to suppose that the whole scheme of things is self-stultifying"; and for such a supposition we {231} see not only no necessity, but no shadow of warrant. The question is reduced to this: are man's highest spiritual qualities, into the production of which all this creative energy has gone, to disappear with the rest? Has all this work been done for nothing? Is it all ephemeral, all a bubble that bursts, a vision that fades? Are we to regard the Creator's work as like that of a child, who builds houses out of blocks, just for the pleasure of knocking them down? For aught that science can tell us, it may be so, but I can see no good reason for believing any such thing . . . The more thoroughly we comprehend that process of evolution by which things have come to be what they are, the more we are likely to feel that to deny the everlasting persistence of the spiritual element in man is to rob the whole process of its meaning. It goes far towards putting us to permanent intellectual confusion, and I do not see that anyone has as yet alleged, or is ever likely to allege, a sufficient reason for our accepting so dire an alternative.[5] If belief in the soul's persistence must always be an act of faith, it is for the evolutionist an act of reasonable faith, based on his experience of the rationality, and what has been called the integrity, of the cosmos. (3) Of the hostility of physical science to belief in life beyond the grave it is perhaps sufficient to say that the somewhat dogmatic attitude of denial which flourished in certain scientific circles somewhere about a quarter of a century ago has to-day made room for a very different temper, at once more sympathetic and more willing to acknowledge {232} that a belief is not necessarily disproved because the methods of the chemical or biological laboratory fail to substantiate it. As for the crude proposition that the brain secretes thought as the liver secretes bile, and that the life of the soul must cease with that of the body, this was characterised by the eminent thinker whom we quoted a moment ago as "perhaps the most colossal instance of baseless assumption that is known to the history of philosophy." Admitting that to every state of consciousness, to every minutest transition in our thoughts, there corresponds a cerebral change, it is yet nothing less than a childish blunder to confound correspondence with causality. The materialist has positively no good ground for stating that cerebral changes are the _causes_ of the mental states corresponding to them; indeed, the contrary proposition is far more inherently probable, since it is spirit, and not matter, that "possesses the power of purpose," and may therefore be regarded as the final cause of matter.[6] When Professor Haeckel urges that "the various functions of the soul are bound up with certain special parts of the brain," and cease when the latter are destroyed, the reply is quite simple: _non sequitur_. He has apparently forgotten his own warning against the "dangerous error" of a "one-sided over-estimation of experience." [7] {233} The utmost that experience can prove is that the brain is the transmitting apparatus for flashing forth and making intelligible the messages of the soul, and that, when this apparatus breaks down, further transmission of messages becomes impossible; but no experience can prove that when the instrument is destroyed, the soul which used it for purposes of communication and self-manifestation ceases to be, and only slipshod logic would draw such an inference. In discussing the Divine Personality, we already quoted Mill, a far more careful reasoner than Haeckel, who laid it down that while experience furnished us with no example of any series of states of consciousness without a material brain, yet it was "as easy to imagine such a series of states without as with this accompaniment"; indeed, he saw no valid reason to preclude us from supposing that "the same thoughts, emotions, volitions, and even sensations which we have here, may persist or recommence somewhere else under other conditions"--_i.e._, without such an apparatus as is at present at our disposal. It is only a dogmatic materialist of Haeckel's almost extinct pattern who could fail to make the simple distinction between visible instrument and invisible player. Turning aside, however, from the antiquated views of Haeckel--views which, as he himself bitterly complains, some of his most {234} illustrious scientific compeers in his own country, men like Virchow, Du Bois-Reymond and Wundt lived to repudiate[8]--we may for a moment glance at an argument on behalf of belief brought forward by so distinguished and modern a spokesman of physical science as Sir Oliver Lodge. His contention, set forth in the course of a paper on _The Permanence of Personality_,[9] is really identical with that which Browning expresses with such passionate conviction in the words, "There shall never be one lost good." While we have become familiar with such a conception as the conservation of energy, Sir Oliver Lodge brings before us Professor Höffding's axiom of the "conservation of value," and applies it to the question under discussion. According to him, "the whole progress and course of evolution is to increase and intensify the Valuable--that which 'avails' or is serviceable for highest purposes"; and he accordingly defines immortality as the persistence of things which the universe has gained and which, once acquired, cannot be let go. "From this point of view," he says, "the law of evolution is that Good shall on the whole increase in the universe with the process of the suns: that immortality itself is a special case of a more general law, namely, that in the whole universe nothing really finally perishes that is worth keeping, that a thing once attained {235} is not thrown away." The soul, in other words, will not perish--just as we had already argued--because it is too valuable to perish; if we may trust this latest interpretation of the meaning and purpose of evolution, the spiritual element in man will endure because it is worthy to endure. But how are we to think of its enduring? As a separate self, conscious of its identity, able to form the proposition "I am I," or swallowed up in the Whole, with a final merging and loss of selfhood? Must we think of man's ultimate destiny in the terms of the concluding distichs of Mr. Watson's great _Hymn to the Sea_--a consummation When, from this threshold of being, these steps of the Presence, this precinct, Into the matrix of Life darkly divinely resumed, Man and his littleness perish, erased like an error and cancelled, Man and his greatness survive, lost in the greatness of God? That is the query with which we opened this chapter; and, in answering it, it is but fair to say that Sir Oliver Lodge shows a marked inclination to take up a position identical with that of Mr. Watson: "Everything sufficiently valuable," he says, "be it beauty, artistic achievement, knowledge, unselfish affection, may be thought of as enduring henceforth and for ever, _if not with an individual {236} and personal existence, yet as part of the eternal Being of God_." Now this is not only a wholly unsatisfactory conclusion from the point of view of religion; it is a surrender of the very point at issue--_viz._, the permanence of personality--and in reality lets slip what Sir Oliver Lodge himself was contending for. It is unsatisfactory from the point of view of religion; for such a re-absorption of the soul into a "grand self-conscious totality of being," involving of necessity the end of all we mean by individuality, consciousness, character, is not immortality at all--to all intents and purposes it is, as we said, annihilation. There is not an iota to choose, so far as the religious believer is concerned, between this theory and the frank materialism of Lucretius, so wonderfully rendered by Mr. Mallock:-- The seeds that once were we take flight and fly, Winnowed to earth, or whirled along the sky, Not lost but disunited. _Life lives on_. _It is the lives, the lives, the lives that die_. They go beyond recapture and recall, Lost in the all-indissoluble All: Gone like the rainbow from the fountain's foam, Gone like the spindrift shuddering down the squall, Flakes of the water, on the waters cease! Soul of the body, melt and sleep like these. Atoms to atoms--weariness to rest-- Ashes to ashes--hopes and fears to peace! {237} Pantheism may speak delusively of "the peace of absorption in the Infinite," or of the end of our being as submersion, "without reserve, in the infinite ocean of God"; but regarded from the standpoint of individuality, there is no difference between such a fate and the total extinction of the soul-- The healing gospel of the eternal death --preached with such haunting eloquence by the Roman poet. The truth, as Dr. Illingworth has well expressed it, is that in practice "Pantheism is really indistinguishable from Materialism; it is merely Materialism grown sentimental, but no more tenable for its change of name." [10] But, in the next place, in tentatively committing himself to the conclusion we are criticising, it seems to us that Sir Oliver Lodge loses sight of the very essence of his own contention: his conclusion, in effect, contradicts his premises. Syllogistically, and, of course, very bluntly stated, his argument might be summed up as follows: "What is of value is preserved; the soul is of value; therefore the soul is--dissolved." Let us put this a little more explicitly. That which has been gained in the course of evolution, so far as the human soul is concerned--that which makes it worthy to endure, _viz._, its character, conscience, idealism and so forth--belongs to the {238} soul precisely as an individual entity, and in no other way whatsoever; neither can it be effectively preserved save in the form of an individual entity. The soul, in other words, is not to be compared to a mere quantum of raw material, or to a cupful of water temporarily drawn from an infinite deep into which it may be poured back, and nothing lost: it is, on the contrary, a highly individualised product, so individual as to be unique, and in simply being merged in the totality of being all that is most valuable in it would be lost and wasted. We have no difficulty in believing that mere _life_--the potentiality, the material out of which higher things evolve--may go back into the all, to arise again in new manifestations and combinations; but it is otherwise with the highly complex resultant of the evolutionary process which we call _personality_, endowed as it is with self-consciousness, with the sense of right and wrong, the capacity for ideals, the faculty of self-giving, a god-like within answering to the God without. It is because these things--those which "avail for highest purposes"--make man personal and mark him off, broadly speaking, from the lower, sub-human life out of which he has emerged, that we believe in the permanence of human personality, of the spiritual element in man, in the survival of the soul _as individual and personal_, and not merely as "part of the eternal Being of God." A simple illustration will help us to enforce our {239} point of view. In the process of porcelain manufacture the half-finished ware is placed in "seggars" or coarse clay shells for protection in the glaze or enamel kiln. These temporary shells, having served their purpose, are broken up and ground down again into a shapeless mass under heavy revolving rollers; but no one would dream of treating the graceful vases and figures they enclosed for a time after the same fashion. The parallel is fairly obvious: the protecting clay envelope broken to pieces, merged and mingled with other clay, to be so used and broken a hundred times; the precious product carefully taken from its coarse shell and preserved. The dust returns to the earth as it was, and the spirit returns unto God who gave it: returns, but not as it came forth from Him, but differentiated, individual, shaped and coloured; returns, not to be absorbed and lost in an "all-indissoluble All," but, as we hold, for still further processes of perfecting. And if we are asked for the ground whence we derive the latter assurance, we answer, It is founded upon our belief, not in a "universal substance" or an "all-inclusive consciousness of being," but in the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ. By no possibility can these two conceptions be made to harmonise or to pass into one another; on the former view, as we have seen, the significance of the individual soul is and must be _nil_--on the latter, the value of the soul is infinite, because it is {240} the object of the Divine Love, created by God "unto Himself," in order to experience and respond to His affection. On the former view, we are finite modes of infinite Being--on the latter, we are children of the Father. It is because we have believed the love which God hath to us--the love made manifest supremely in Jesus Christ--that we echo so confidently the poet's "Thou wilt not leave us in the dust": the Christian doctrine of immortality flows quite naturally from the Christian doctrine of God. The argument is frankly ethical; it flows from the view of God's character which we have received through the revelation of that character in His Son. Without hurling any wild indictment at life, we dare to say that it requires to be supplemented by the life to come in order to fit in with the idea of a just and loving God, a faithful and merciful Creator. This span of days, this hand's-breadth of existence, is too palpably fragmentary. The sinner, the failure, all those who have here missed the way, ask another opportunity of the Divine mercy; the wronged, the sufferers from unmerited griefs, those whose lives passed in gloom and closed in tragedy, appeal for justice; the longing for reunion with loved ones whose going hence has left us permanently poorer, demands fulfilment; the goodness of the good and the sanctity of the saint plead for "the wages of going on." This ethical argument for personal {241} immortality--Browning's "On the earth the broken arcs; in the heaven the perfect round"--will carry no weight with those who profess a "religion of the universe"; for the universe, viewed simply as the sum-total of phenomena, possesses, as we have so frequently pointed out, no sufficiently decided moral character to inspire us with confidence in its justice, or mercy, or pitifulness. On the other hand, the same argument will powerfully appeal to all who believe in the Divine Goodness, and especially to those who, looking unto Jesus, have in His face beheld the lineaments of the Father. If God be such as Jesus taught, then life everlasting may be a dim, intangible dream, but a dream that is destined to come true: we shall be satisfied when we awake. Thus, at the close of this inquiry, we find ourselves left with two ultimate realities--two, not one; alike, not identical; related, and _therefore_ distinct, for a relation can only subsist between one and another: the realities of God and the soul. _Gott und die Seele, die Seele und ihr Gott_--these two, eternally akin, yet in their kinship unconfounded, make up the theme and the content of religion; and any attempt to obliterate the distinction between them in some monistic formula, any tendency to surrender either the Divine or the human personality, any philosophy which seeks to merge man in God and God in the {242} universe, is fatal to religion itself. We have been told of late that "there is no Divine immanence which does not imply the allness of God"; we reply that there is no sane and sober theology which will not feel called upon to challenge this fundamental error. God, immanent in the universe as life and energy, is not the universe; man, the partaker of the Divine nature, indwelt by the Spirit of God, is other than God. These are commonplaces, truly; yet in the presence of more than one contemporary movement aiming to set these basal truths aside--truths whose acceptance or rejection involves far-reaching issues in faith and morals--there may be some excuse and even some necessity for reiterating them so persistently and at such length as has been done in these pages. Man is inalienably akin to God--man is everlastingly other than God; upon this note we are content to close. In that fact we have, not only the ultimate explanation of the phenomenon of religion, the ultimate foundation of ethics, the ultimate ground of the felt need of salvation, but also the ultimate hope of immortality--that reasonable hope, expressed by the Hebrew seer for all time in words of sublime and intuitive insight: _Art not_ THOU _from everlasting, O Lord my God, mine Holy One_? WE SHALL NOT DIE. [1] _First and Last Things_, pp. 80, 238. [2] Ballard, _Christian Essentials_, pp. 10-12. [3] _The Riddle of the Universe_, p. 72. [4] _Life Everlasting_, p. 85. To the same effect is Huxley's statement declaring that while he would "neither affirm nor deny the immortality of man," immortality itself struck him "_as not half so wonderful as the conservation of force or the indestructibility of matter_." [5] _Man's Destiny_, by John Fiske, pp. 114-116. [6] Cp. Illingworth, _Divine Immanence_, p. 8. [7] _The Riddle of the Universe_, p. 7. [8] _Op. cit._; see ch. vi., _passim_. [9] See the _Hibbert Journal_, April 1908, pp. 565-567. [10] _Divine Immanence_, p. 39. 
17147	----	Theodicy Essays on the Goodness of God the Freedom of Man and the Origin of Evil G.W. LEIBNIZ Edited with an Introduction by Austin Farrer, Fellow of Trinity College, Oxford Translated by E.M. Huggard from C.J. Gerhardt's Edition of the Collected Philosophical Works, 1875-90 Open [Logo] Court La Salle, Illinois 61301 * * * * * [Logo] OPEN COURT and the above logo are registered in the U.S. Patent & Trademark Office. Published 1985 by Open Court Publishing Company, Peru, Illinois 61354. This edition first published 1951 by Routledge & Kegan Paul Limited, London. Second printing 1988 Third printing 1990 Fourth printing 1993 Fifth printing 1996 Printed and bound in the United States of America. LIBRARY OF CONGRESS CATALOGING-IN-PUBLICATION DATA Leibniz, Gottfried Wilhelm, Freiherr von, 1646-1716. Theodicy: essays on the goodness of God, the freedom of man, and the origin of evil. Translation of: Essais de Théodicée. Includes index. 1. Theodicy--Early works to 1800. I. Title. B2590.E5 1985 231'.8 85-8833 ISBN O-87548-437-9 [5] * * * * * CONTENTS * * * * * EDITOR'S INTRODUCTION page 7 PREFACE 49 PRELIMINARY DISSERTATION ON THE CONFORMITY OF FAITH WITH 73 REASON ESSAYS ON THE JUSTICE OF GOD AND THE FREEDOM OF MAN IN THE 123, 182, 276 ORIGIN OF EVIL, IN THREE PARTS APPENDICES SUMMARY OF THE CONTROVERSY, REDUCED TO FORMAL ARGUMENTS 377 EXCURSUS ON THEODICY, § 392 389 REFLEXIONS ON THE WORK THAT MR. HOBBES PUBLISHED IN 393 ENGLISH ON 'FREEDOM, NECESSITY AND CHANCE' OBSERVATIONS ON THE BOOK CONCERNING 'THE ORIGIN OF EVIL', 405 PUBLISHED RECENTLY IN LONDON CAUSA DEI ASSERTA 443 INDEX 445 [7] * * * * * EDITOR'S INTRODUCTION * * * * * I Leibniz was above all things a metaphysician. That does not mean that his head was in the clouds, or that the particular sciences lacked interest for him. Not at all--he felt a lively concern for theological debate, he was a mathematician of the first rank, he made original contributions to physics, he gave a realistic attention to moral psychology. But he was incapable of looking at the objects of any special enquiry without seeing them as aspects or parts of one intelligible universe. He strove constantly after system, and the instrument on which his effort relied was the speculative reason. He embodied in an extreme form the spirit of his age. Nothing could be less like the spirit of ours. To many people now alive metaphysics means a body of wild and meaningless assertions resting on spurious argument. A professor of metaphysics may nowadays be held to deal handsomely with the duties of his chair if he is prepared to handle metaphysical statements at all, though it be only for the purpose of getting rid of them, by showing them up as confused forms of something else. A chair in metaphysical philosophy becomes analogous to a chair in tropical diseases: what is taught from it is not the propagation but the cure. Confidence in metaphysical construction has ebbed and flowed through philosophical history; periods of speculation have been followed by periods of criticism. The tide will flow again, but it has not turned yet, and [8] such metaphysicians as survive scarcely venture further than to argue a case for the possibility of their art. It would be an embarrassing task to open an approach to Leibnitian metaphysics from the present metaphysical position, if there is a present position. If we want an agreed starting-point, it will have to be historical. The historical importance of Leibniz's ideas is anyhow unmistakable. If metaphysical thinking is nonsensical, its empire over the human imagination must still be confessed; if it is as chimerical a science as alchemy, it is no less fertile in by-products of importance. And if we are to consider Leibniz historically, we cannot do better than take up his _Theodicy_, for two reasons. It was the only one of his main philosophical works to be published in his lifetime, so that it was a principal means of his direct influence; the Leibniz his own age knew was the Leibniz of the _Theodicy_. Then in the second place, the _Theodicy_ itself is peculiarly rich in historical material. It reflects the world of men and books which Leibniz knew; it expresses the theological setting of metaphysical speculation which still predominated in the first years of the eighteenth century. Leibniz is remembered for his philosophy; he was not a professional philosopher. He was offered academic chairs, but he declined them. He was a gentleman, a person of means, librarian to a reigning prince, and frequently employed in state affairs of trust and importance. The librarian might at any moment become the political secretary, and offer his own contributions to policy. Leibniz was for the greater part of his active life the learned and confidential servant of the House of Brunswick; when the Duke had nothing better to do with him, he set him to research into ducal history. If Leibniz had a profession in literature, it was history rather than philosophy. He was even more closely bound to the interests of his prince than John Locke was to those of the Prince of Orange. The Houses of Orange and of Brunswick were on the same side in the principal contest which divided Europe, the battle between Louis XIV and his enemies. It was a turning-point of the struggle when the Prince of Orange supplanted Louis's Stuart friends on the English throne. It was a continuation of the same movement, when Leibniz's master, George I, succeeded to the same throne, and frustrated the restoration of the Stuart heir. Locke returned to England in the wake of the Prince of Orange, and became the [9] representative thinker of the régime. Leibniz wished to come to the English court of George I, but was unkindly ordered to attend to the duties of his librarianship. So he remained in Hanover. He was then an old man, and before the tide of favour had turned, he died. Posterity has reckoned Locke and Leibniz the heads of rival sects, but politically they were on the same side. As against Louis's political absolutism and enforced religious uniformity, both championed religious toleration and the freedom of the mind. Their theological liberalism was political prudence; it was not necessarily for that reason the less personally sincere. They had too much wisdom to meet bigotry with bigotry, or set Protestant intolerance against Catholic absolutism. But they had too much sympathy with the spirit of Europe to react into free thinking or to make a frontal attack on revealed truth. They took their stand on a fundamental Christian theism, the common religion of all good men; they repudiated the negative enormities of Hobbes and Spinoza. The Christian was to hold a position covered by three lines of defences. The base line was to be the substance of Christian theism and of Christian morals, and it was to be held by the forces of sheer reason, without aid from scriptural revelation. The middle line was laid down by the general sense of Scripture, and the defence of it was this. 'Scriptural doctrine is reconcilable with the findings of sheer reason, but it goes beyond them. We believe the Scriptures, because they are authenticated by marks of supernatural intervention in the circumstances of their origin. We believe them, but reason controls our interpretation of them.' There remained the most forward and the most hazardous line: the special positions which a Church, a sect, or an individual might found upon the scriptural revelation. A prudent man would not hold his advance positions in the same force or defend them with the same obstinacy as either of the lines behind them. He could argue for them, but he could not require assent to them. One cannot help feeling, indeed, the readiness of these writers to fall back, not only from the front line to the middle line, but from the middle line itself to the base line. Leibniz, for example, writes with perfect seriousness and decency about the Christian scheme of redemption, but it hardly looks like being for him a crucial deliverance from perdition. It is not the intervention of Mercy, by which alone He possesses himself of [10] us: it is one of the ways in which supreme Benevolence carries out a cosmic policy; and God's benevolence is known by pure reason, and apart from Christian revelation. In one politically important particular the theological attitude of Leibniz differed from that of Locke. Both stood for toleration and for the minimizing of the differences between the sects. This was a serious enough matter in England, but it was an even more serious matter in Germany. For Germany was divided between Catholics and Protestants; effective toleration must embrace them both. English toleration might indulge a harmless Catholic minority, while rejecting the Catholic régime as the embodiment of intolerance. But this was not practical politics on the Continent; you must tolerate Catholicism on an equal footing, and come to terms with Catholic régimes. Leibniz was not going to damn the Pope with true Protestant fervour. It was his consistent aim to show that his theological principles were as serviceable to Catholic thinkers as to the doctors of his own church. On some points, indeed, he found his most solid support from Catholics; in other places there are hints of a joint Catholic-Lutheran front against Calvinism. But on the whole Leibniz's writings suggest that the important decisions cut across all the Churches, and not between them. Leibniz was impelled to a compromise with 'popery', not only by the religious divisions of Germany, but (at one stage) by the political weakness of the German Protestant States. At the point of Louis XIV's highest success, the Protestant princes had no hope but in Catholic Austria, and Austria was distracted by Turkish pressure in the rear. Leibniz hoped to relieve the situation by preaching a crusade. Could not the Christian princes sink their differences and unite against the infidel? And could not the Christian alliance be cemented by theological agreement? Hence Leibniz's famous negotiation with Bossuet for a basis of Catholic-Lutheran concord. It was plainly destined to fail; and it was bound to recoil upon its author. How could he be a true Protestant who treated the differences with the Catholics as non-essentials? How could he have touched pitch and taken no defilement? Leibniz was generally admired, but he was not widely trusted. As a mere politician, he may be judged to have over-reached himself. It has been the object of the preceding paragraphs to show that Leibniz[11] the politician and Leibniz the theologian were one and the same person; not at all to suggest that his rational theology was just political expediency. We may apply to him a parody of his own doctrine, the pre-established harmony between nature and grace. Everything happens as though Leibniz were a liberal politician, and his theology expressed his politics. Yes, but equally, everything happens as though Leibniz were a philosophical theologian, and his politics expressed his theology. His appreciation of Catholic speculation was natural and sincere; his dogmatic ancestry is to be looked for in Thomism and Catholic humanism as much as anywhere. Above all, he had himself a liberal and generous mind. It gave him pleasure to appreciate good wherever he could see it, and to discover a soul of truth in every opinion. From the moment when Leibniz became aware of himself as an independent thinker, he was the man of a doctrine. Sometimes he called it 'my principles', sometimes 'the new system', sometimes 'pre-established harmony'. It could be quite briefly expressed; he was always ready to oblige his friends with a summary statement, either in a letter or an enclosed memorandum, and several such have come down to us. The doctrine may have been in Leibniz's view simple, but it was applicable to every department of human speculation or enquiry. It provided a new alphabet of philosophical ideas, and everything in heaven and earth could be expressed in it; not only could be, but ought to be, and Leibniz showed tireless energy in working out restatements of standing problems. As a man with an idea, with a philosophical nostrum, Leibniz may be compared to Bishop Berkeley. There was never any more doubt that Leibniz was a Leibnitian than that Berkeley was a Berkeleian. But there is no comparison between the two men in the width of their range. About many things Berkeley never took the trouble to Berkeleianize. To take the most surprising instance of his neglect--he assured the world that his whole doctrine pointed to, and hung upon, theology. But what sort of a theology? He scarcely took the first steps in the formulation of it. He preferred to keep on defending and explaining his _esse est percipi_. With Leibniz it is wholly different; he carries his new torch into every corner, to illuminate the dark questions. The wide applicability of pre-established harmony might come home to its inventor as a rich surprise. The reflective historian will find it less[12] surprising, for he will suspect that the applications were in view from the start. What was Leibniz thinking of when the new principle flashed upon him? What was he _not_ thinking of? He had a many-sided mind. If the origins of the principle were complex, little wonder that its applications were manifold. Every expositor of Leibniz who does not wish to be endlessly tedious must concentrate attention on one aspect of Leibniz's principle, and one source of its origin. We will here give an account of the matter which, we trust, will go most directly to the heart of it, but we will make no claims to sufficient interpretation of Leibniz's thought-processes. Leibniz, then, like all the philosophers of the seventeenth century, was reforming scholasticism in the light of a new physical science. The science was mathematical in its form, mechanistical in its doctrine, and unanswerable in its evidence--it got results. But it was metaphysically intractable, and the doctrines of infinite and finite substance which it generated furnish a gallery of metaphysical grotesques; unless we are to except Leibniz; his system is, if nothing else, a miracle of ingenuity, and there are moments when we are in danger of believing it. It is a natural mistake for the student of seventeenth-century thought to underestimate the tenacity of scholastic Aristotelianism. Descartes, we all know, was reared in it, but then Descartes overthrew it; and he had done his work and died by the time that Leibniz was of an age to philosophize at all. We expect to see Leibniz starting on his shoulders and climbing on from there. We are disappointed. Leibniz himself tells us that he was raised in the scholastic teaching. His acquaintance with Descartes's opinions was second-hand, and they were retailed to him only that they might be derided. He agreed, like an amiable youth, with his preceptors. The next phase of his development gave him a direct knowledge of Cartesian writings, and of other modern books beside, such as those of the atomist Gassendi. He was delighted with what he read, because of its fertility in the field of physics and mathematics; and for a short time he was an enthusiastic modern. But presently he became dissatisfied. The new systems did not go far enough, they were still scientifically inadequate. At the same time they went too far, and carried metaphysical paradox beyond the limits of human credulity. [13] There is no mystery about Leibniz's scientific objections to the new philosophers. If he condemned them here, it was on the basis of scientific thought and observation. Descartes's formulation of the laws of motion could, for example, be refuted by physical experiment; and if his general view of physical nature was bound up with it, then so much the worse for the Cartesian philosophy. But whence came Leibniz's more strictly metaphysical objections? Where had he learned that standard of metaphysical adequacy which showed up the inadequacy of the new metaphysicians? His own disciples might be satisfied to reply, that he learnt it from Reason herself; but the answer will not pass with us. Leibniz reasoned, indeed, but he did not reason from nowhere, nor would he have got anywhere if he had. His conception of metaphysical reason was what his early scholastic training had made it. There are certain absurd opinions which we are sure we have been taught, although, when put to it, we find it hard to name the teacher. Among them is something of this sort. 'Leibniz was a scholarly and sympathetic thinker. He had more sense of history than his contemporaries, and he was instinctively eclectic. He believed he could learn something from each of his great predecessors. We see him reaching back to cull a notion from Plato or from Aristotle; he even found something of use in the scholastics. In particular, he picked out the Aristotelian "entelechy" to stop a gap in the philosophy of his own age.' What this form of statement ignores is that Leibniz _was_ a scholastic: a scholastic endeavouring, like Descartes before him, to revolutionize scholasticism. The word 'entelechy' was, indeed, a piece of antiquity which Leibniz revived, but the thing for which it stood was the most familiar of current scholastic conceptions. 'Entelechy' means active principle of wholeness or completion in an individual thing. Scholasticism was content to talk about it under the name of 'substantial form' or 'formal cause'. But the scholastic interpretation of the idea was hopelessly discredited by the new science, and the scholastic terms shared the discredit of scholastic doctrine. Leibniz wanted a term with a more general sound. 'There is an _X_', he wanted to say, 'which scholasticism has defined as substantial form, but I am going to give a new definition of it.' Entelechy was a useful name for _X_, the more so as it had the authority of Aristotle, the master of scholasticism. Under the name of entelechy Leibniz was upholding the soul of [14] scholastic doctrine, while retrenching the limbs and outward flourishes. The doctrine of substantial form which he learnt in his youth had had _something_ in it; he could not settle down in the principles of Descartes or of Gassendi, because both ignored this vital _something_. Since the requirements of a new science would not allow a return to sheer scholasticism, it was necessary to find a fresh philosophy, in which entelechy and mechanism might be accommodated side by side. If one had asked any 'modern' of the seventeenth century to name the 'ancient' doctrine he most abominated, he would most likely have replied, 'Substantial form'. Let us recall what was rejected under this name, and why. The medieval account of physical nature had been dominated by what we may call common-sense biology. Biology, indeed, is the science of the living, and the medievals were no more inclined than we are to endow all physical bodies with life. What they did do was to take living bodies as typical, and to treat other bodies as imperfectly analogous to them. Such an approach was _a priori_ reasonable enough. For we may be expected to know best the physical being closest to our own; and we, at any rate, are alive. Why not argue from the better known to the less known, from the nearer to the more remote, interpreting other things by the formula of our own being, and allowing whatever discount is necessary for their degree of unlikeness to us? Common-sense biology reasons as follows. In a living body there is a certain pattern of organized parts, a certain rhythm of successive motions, and a certain range of characteristic activities. The pattern, the sheer anatomy, is basic; but it cannot long continue to exist (outside a refrigerator) without accompanying vital rhythms in heart, respiration and digestion. Nor do these perform their parts without the intermittent support of variable but still characteristic activities: dogs not only breathe and digest, they run about, hunt their food, look for mates, bark at cats, and so on. The anatomical pattern, the vital rhythm, and the characteristic acts together express dogginess; they reveal the specific form of the dog. They _reveal_ it; exactly what the specific form _consisted in_ was the subject of much medieval speculation. It need not concern us here. Taking the form of the species for granted, common-sense biology proceeds to ask how it comes to be in a given instance, say in the dog Toby. [15] Before this dog was born or thought of, his form or species was displayed in each of his parents. And now it looks as though the form of dog had detached itself from them through the generative act, and set up anew on its own account. How does it do that? By getting hold of some materials in which to express itself. At first it takes them from the body of the mother, afterwards it collects them from a wider environment, and what the dog eats becomes the dog. What, then, is the relation of the assimilated materials to the dog-form which assimilates them? Before assimilation, they have their own form. Before the dog eats the leg of mutton, it has the form given to it by its place in the body of a sheep. What happens to the mutton? Is it without remainder transubstantiated from sheep into dog? It loses all its distinctively sheep-like characteristicsm but there may be some more basically material characteristics which it preserves. They underlay the structure of the mutton, and they continue to underlie the structure of the dog's flesh which supplants it. Whatever these characteristics may be, let us call them common material characteristics, and let us say that they belong to or compose a common material nature. The common material nature has its own way of existing, and perhaps its own principles of physical action. We may suppose that we know much or that we know little about it. This one thing at least we know, that it is capable of becoming alternatively either mutton or dog's flesh. It is not essential to it to be mutton, or mutton it would always be; nor dog's flesh, or it would always be dog's flesh. It is capable of becoming either, according as it is captured by one or other system of formal organization. So the voters who are to go to the polls are, by their common nature, Englishmen; they are essentially neither Socialist curs nor Conservative sheep, but intrinsically capable of becoming either, if they become captured by either system of party organization. According to this way of thinking, there is a certain _looseness_ about the relation of the common material nature to the higher forms of organization capable of capturing it. Considered in itself alone, it is perhaps to be seen as governed by absolutely determined laws of its own. It is heavy, then it will fall unless obstructed; it is solid, then it will resist intrusions. But considered as material for organization by higher forms, it is indeterminate. It acts in one sort of way under the persuasion of the sheep-form, and in another sort of way under the persuasion of the [16] dog-form, and we cannot tell how it will act until we know which form is going to capture it. No amount of study bestowed on the common material nature will enable us to judge how it will behave under the persuasion of the higher organizing form. The only way to discover that is to examine the higher form itself. Every form, then, will really be the object of a distinct science. The form of the sheep and the form of the dog have much in common, but that merely happens to be so; we cannot depend upon it, or risk inferences from sheep to dog: we must examine each in itself; we shall really need a science of probatology about sheep, and cynology about dogs. Again, the common material nature has its own principles of being and action, so it will need a science of itself, which we may call hylology. Each of these sciences is mistress in her own province; but how many there are, and how puzzlingly they overlap! So long as we remain within the province of a single science, we may be able to think rigorously, everything will be 'tight'. But as soon as we consider border-issues between one province and another, farewell to exactitude: everything will be 'loose'. We can think out hylology till we are blue in the face, but we shall never discover anything about the entry of material elements into higher organizations, or how they behave when they get there. We may form perfect definitions and descriptions of the form of the dog as such, and still derive no rules for telling what elements of matter will enter into the body of a given dog or how they will be placed when they do. All we can be sure of is, that the dog-form will keep itself going in, and by means of, the material it embodies--unless the dog dies. But what happens to the matter in the body of the dog is 'accidental' to the nature of the matter; and the use of this matter, rather than of some other equally suitable, is accidental to the nature of the dog. No account of material events can dispense with accidental relations altogether. We must at least recognize that there are accidental relations between particular things. Accident in the sense of brute fact had to be acknowledged even by the tidiest and most dogmatic atomism of the last century. That atomism must allow it to be accidental, in this sense, that the space surrounding any given atom was occupied by other atoms in a given manner. It belonged neither to the nature of space to be occupied by just those atoms in just those places, nor to the nature of the atoms to be [17] distributed just like that over space; and so in a certain sense the environment of any atom was an accidental environment. That is, the particular arrangement of the environment was accidental. The nature of the environment was not accidental at all. It was proper to the nature of the atom to be in interaction with other atoms over a spatial field, and it never encountered in the fellow-denizens of space any other nature but its own. It was not subject to the accident of meeting strange natures, nor of becoming suddenly subject to strange or unequal laws of interaction. All interactions, being with its own kind, were reciprocal and obedient to a single set of calculable laws. But the medieval philosophy had asserted accidental relations between distinct sorts of _natures_, the form of living dog and the form of dead matter, for example. No one could know _a priori_ what effect an accidental relation would produce, and all accidental relations between different pairs of natures were different: at the most there was analogy between them. Every different nature had to be separately observed, and when you had observed them all, you could still simply write an inventory of them, you could not hope to rationalize your body of knowledge. Let us narrow the field and consider what this doctrine allows us to know about the wood of a certain kind of tree. We shall begin by observing the impressions it makes on our several senses, and we shall attribute to it a substantial form such as naturally to give rise to these impressions, without, perhaps, being so rash as to claim a knowledge of what this substantial form is. Still we do not know what its capacities of physical action and passion may be. We shall find them out by observing it in relation to different 'natures'. It turns out to be combustible by fire, resistant to water, tractable to the carpenter's tools, intractable to his digestive organs, harmless to ostriches, nourishing to wood-beetles. Each of these capacities of the wood is distinct; we cannot relate them intelligibly to one another, nor deduce them from the assumed fundamental 'woodiness'. We can now see why 'substantial forms' were the _bêtes noires_ of the seventeenth-century philosophers. It was because they turned nature into an unmanageable jungle, in which trees, bushes, and parasites of a thousand kinds wildly interlaced. There was nothing for it, if science was to proceed, but to clear the ground and replant with spruce in rows: to postulate a single uniform nature, of which there should be a single science. Now neither probatology nor cynology could hope to be [18] universal--the world is not all sheep nor all dog: it would have to be hylology; for the world is, in its spatial aspect, all material. Let us say, then, that there is one uniform material nature of things, and that everything else consists in the arrangements of the basic material nature; as the show of towers and mountains in the sunset results simply from an arrangement of vapours. And let us suppose that the interactions of the parts of matter are all like those which we can observe in dead manipulable bodies--in mechanism, in fact. Such was the postulate of the new philosophers, and it yielded them results. It yielded them results, and that was highly gratifying. But what, meanwhile, had happened to those palpable facts of common experience from which the whole philosophy of substantial forms had taken its rise? Is the wholeness of a living thing the mere resultant of the orderly operations of its parts? Is a bee no more essentially one than a swarm is? Is the life of a living animal indistinguishable from the rhythm of a going watch, except in degree of complication and subtlety of contrivance? And if an animal's body, say my own, is simply an agglomerate of minute interacting material units, and its wholeness is merely accidental and apparent, how is my conscious mind to be adjusted to it? For my consciousness appears to identify itself with that whole vital pattern which used to be called the substantial form. We are now told that the pattern is nothing real or active, but the mere accidental resultant of distinct interacting forces: it does no work, it exercises no influence or control, it _is_ nothing. How then can it be the vehicle and instrument of my conscious soul? It cannot. Then is my soul homeless? Or is it to be identified with the activity and fortunes of a single atomic constituent of my body, a single cog in the animal clockwork? If so, how irrational! For the soul does not experience itself as the soul of one minute part, but as the soul of the body. Such questions rose thick and fast in the minds of the seventeenth-century philosophers. It will cause us no great surprise that Leibniz should have quickly felt that the Formal Principle of Aristotle and of the Scholastic philosophy must be by hook or by crook reintroduced--not as the detested _substantial form_, but under a name by which it might hope to smell more sweet, _entelechy_. Nothing so tellingly revealed the difficulties of the new philosophy in[19] dealing with living bodies as the insufficiency of the solutions Descartes had proposed. He had boldly declared the unity of animal life to be purely mechanical, and denied that brutes had souls at all, or any sensation. He had to admit soul in man, but he still denied the substantial unity of the human body. It was put together like a watch, it was many things, not one: if Descartes had lived in our time, he would have been delighted to compare it with a telephone system, the nerves taking the place of the wires, and being so arranged that all currents of 'animal spirit' flowing in them converged upon a single unit, a gland at the base of the brain. In this unit, or in the convergence of all the motions upon it, the 'unity' of the body virtually consisted; and the soul was incarnate, not in the plurality of members (for how could it, being one, indwell many things?), but in the single gland. Even so, the relation between the soul and the gland was absolutely unintelligible, as Descartes disarmingly confessed. Incarnation was all very well in the old philosophy: those who had allowed the interaction of disparate natures throughout the physical world need find no particular difficulty about the special case of it provided by incarnation. Why should not a form of conscious life so interact with what would otherwise be dead matter as to 'indwell' it? But the very principle of the new philosophy disallowed the interaction of disparate natures, because such an interaction did not allow of exact formulation, it was a 'loose' and not a 'tight' relation. From a purely practical point of view the much derided pineal gland theory would serve. If we could be content to view Descartes as a man who wanted to make the world safe for physical science, then there would be a good deal to be said for his doctrine. In the old philosophy exact science had been frustrated by the hypothesis of loose relations all over the field of nature. Descartes had cleared them from as much of the field as science was then in a position to investigate; he allowed only one such relation to subsist, the one which experience appeared unmistakably to force upon us--that between our own mind and its bodily vehicle. He had exorcized the spirits from the rest of nature; and though there was a spirit here which could not be exorcized, the philosophic conjurer had nevertheless confined it and its unaccountable pranks within a minutely narrow magic circle: all mind could do was to turn the one tiny switch at the centre of its [20] animal telephone system. It could create no energy--it could merely redirect the currents actually flowing. Practically this might do, but speculatively it was most disturbing. For if the 'loose relation' had to be admitted in one instance, it was admitted in principle; and one could not get rid of the suspicion that it would turn up elsewhere, and that the banishment of it from every other field represented a convenient pragmatic postulate rather than a solid metaphysical truth. Moreover, the correlation of the unitary soul with the unitary gland might do justice to a mechanistical philosophy, but it did not do justice to the soul's own consciousness of itself. The soul's consciousness is the 'idea' or 'representation' of the life of the whole body, certainly not of the life of the pineal gland nor, as the unreflective nowadays would say, of the brain. I am not conscious in, or of, my brain except when I have a headache; consciousness is in my eyes and finger-tips and so on. It is physically true, no doubt, that consciousness in and of my finger-tips is not possible without the functioning of my brain; but that is a poor reason for locating the consciousness in the brain. The filament of the electric bulb will not be incandescent apart from the functioning of the dynamo; but that is a poor reason for saying that the incandescence is in the dynamo. Certainly the area of representation in our mind is not simply equivalent to the area of our body. But in so far as the confines of mental representation part company with the confines of the body, it is not that they may contract and fall back upon the pineal gland, but that they may expand and advance over the surrounding world. The mind does not represent its own body merely, it represents the world in so far as the world affects that body or is physically reproduced in it. The mind has no observable natural relation to the pineal gland. It has only two natural relations: to its body as a whole and to its effective environment. What Descartes had really done was to pretend that the soul was related to the pineal gland as it is in fact related to its whole body; and then that it was related to the bodily members as in fact it is related to outer environment. The members became an inner environment, known only in so far as they affected the pineal gland; just as the outer environment in its turn was to be known only in so far as it affected the members. [21] This doctrine of a double environment was wholly artificial. It was forced on Descartes by the requirements of mechanistical science: if the members were simply a plurality of things, they must really be parts of environment; the body which the soul indwelt must be _a_ body; presumably, then, the pineal gland. An untenable compromise, surely, between admitting and denying the reality of the soul's incarnation. What, then, was to be done? Descartes's rivals and successors attempted several solutions, which it would be too long to examine here. They dissatisfied Leibniz and they have certainly no less dissatisfied posterity. It will be enough for us here to consider what Leibniz did. He admitted, to begin with, the psychological fact. The unity of consciousness is the representation of a plurality--the plurality of the members, and through them the plurality of the world. Here, surely, was the very principle the new philosophy needed for the reconciliation of substantial unity with mechanical plurality of parts. For it is directly evident to us that consciousness focuses the plurality of environing things in a unity of representation. This is no philosophical theory, it is a simple fact. Our body, then, as a physical system is a mechanical plurality; as focused in consciousness it is a unity of 'idea'. Very well: but we have not got far yet. For the old difficulty still remains--it is purely arbitrary, after all, that a unitary consciousness should be attached to, and represent, a mechanical collection of things which happen to interact in a sort of pattern. If there is a consciousness attached to human bodies, then why not to systems of clockwork? If the body is _represented_ as unity, it must surely be because it _is_ unity, as the old philosophy had held. But how can we reintroduce unity into the body without reintroducing substantial form, and destroying the mechanistical plurality which the new science demanded? It is at this point that Leibniz produces the speculative postulate of his system. Why not reverse the relation, and make the members represent the mind as the mind represents the members? For then the unity of person represented in the mind will become something actual in the members also. Representation appears to common sense to be a one-way sort of traffic. If my mind represents my bodily members, something happens to my mind, for it becomes a representation of such members in such a state; but nothing happens to the members by their being so represented in the mind. The [22] mental representation obeys the bodily facts; the bodily facts do not obey the mental representation. It seems nonsense to say that my members obey my mind _because_ they are mirrored in it. And yet my members do obey my mind, or at least common sense supposes so. Sometimes my mind, instead of representing the state my members are in, represents a state which it intends that they shall be in, for example, that my hand should go through the motion of writing these words. And my hand obeys; its action becomes the moving diagram of my thought, my thought is represented or expressed in the manual act. Here the relation of mind and members appears to be reversed: instead of its representing them, they represent it. With this representation it is the opposite of what it was with the other. By the members' being represented in the mind, something happened to the mind, and nothing to the members; by the mind's being represented in the members something happens to the members and nothing to the mind. Why should not we take this seriously? Why not allow that there is two-way traffic--by one relation the mind represents the members, by another the members represent the mind? But then again, how can we take it seriously? For representation, in the required sense, is a mental act; brute matter can represent nothing, only mind can represent. And the members are brute matter. But are they? How do we know that? By brute matter we understand extended lumps of stuff, interacting with one another mechanically, as do, for example, two cogs in a piece of clockwork. But this is a large-scale view. The cogs are themselves composed of interrelated parts and those parts of others, and so on _ad infinitum_. Who knows what the ultimate constituents really are? The 'modern' philosophers, certainly, have proposed no hypothesis about them which even looks like making sense. They have supposed that the apparently inert lumps, the cogs, are composed of parts themselves equally inert, and that by subdivision we shall still reach nothing but the inert. But this supposition is in flat contradiction with what physical theory demands. We have to allow the reality of _force_ in physics. Now the force which large-scale bodies display may easily be the block-effect of activity in their minute real constituents. If not, where does it come from? Let it be supposed, then, that these minute real constituents are active because they are alive, because they are minds; for indeed we have no notion of activity other than the perception we have [23] of our own. We have no notion of it except as something mental. On the hypothesis that the constituents of active body are also mental, this limitation in our conception of activity need cause us neither sorrow nor surprise. The mind-units which make up body will not of course be developed and fully conscious minds like yours or mine, and it is only for want of a better word that we call them minds at all. They will be mere unselfconscious representations of their physical environment, as it might be seen from the physical point to which they belong by a human mind paying no attention at all to its own seeing. How many of these rudimentary 'minds' will there be in my body? As many as you like--as many as it is possible there should be--say an infinite number and have done with it. We may now observe how this hypothesis introduces real formal unity without prejudicing mechanical plurality. Each of the mind-units in my body is itself and substantially distinct. But since each, in its own way and according to its own position, represents the superior and more developed mind which I call 'me', they will order themselves according to a common form. The order is real, not accidental: it is like the order of troops on a parade-ground. Each man is a distinct active unit, but each is really expressing by his action the mind of the officer in command. He is expressing no less his relation to the other men in the ranks--to obey the officer is to keep in step with them. So the metaphysical units of the body, being all minds, represent one another as well as the dominant mind: one another co-ordinately, the dominant mind subordinately. But if the metaphysically real units of the body are of the nature of mind, then _the_ mind is a mind among minds, a spirit-atom among spirit-atoms. What then constitutes its superiority or dominance, and makes it a mind _par excellence_? Well, what constitutes the officer an officer? Two things: a more developed mentality and the fact of being obeyed. In military life these two factors are not always perfectly proportioned to one another, but in the order of Leibniz's universe they are. A fuller power to represent the universe is necessarily combined with dominance over an organized troop of members; for the mind knows the universe only in so far as the universe is expressed in its body. That is what the [24] _finitude_ of the mind means. Only an infinite mind appreciates the whole plurality of things in themselves; a finite mind perceives them in so far as mirrored in the physical being of an organized body of members. The more adequate the mirror, the more adequate the representation: the more highly organized the body, the more developed the mind. The developed mind has an elaborate body; but the least developed mind has still some body, or it would lack any mirror whatever through which to represent the world. This means, in effect, that Leibniz's system is not an unmitigated spiritual atomism. For though the spiritual atoms, or monads, are the ultimate constituents out of which nature is composed, they stand composed together from the beginning in a minimal order which cannot be broken up. Each monad, if it is to be anything at all, must be a continuing finite representation of the universe, and to be that it must have a body, that is to say, it must have other monads in a permanent relation of mutual correspondence with it. And if you said to Leibniz, 'But surely any physical body can be broken up, and this must mean the dissolution of the organic relation between its monadical constituents,' he would take refuge in the infinitesimal. The wonders revealed by that new miracle, the microscope, suggested what the intrinsic divisibility of space itself suggests--whatever organization is broken up, there will still be a minute organization within each of the fragments which remains unbroken--and so _ad infinitum_. You will never come down to loose monads, monads out of all organization. You will never disembody the monads, and so remove their representative power; you will only reduce their bodies and so impoverish their representative power. In this sense no animal dies and no animal is generated. Death is the reduction and generation the enrichment of some existing monad's body; and, by being that, is the enrichment or the reduction of the monad's mental life. 'But,' our common sense protests, 'it is too great a strain on our credulity to make the real nature of things so utterly different from what sense and science make of them. If the real universe is what you say it is, why do our minds represent it to us as they do?' The philosopher's answer is, 'Because they _represent_ it. According to the truth of things, each monad is simply its own mental life, its own world-view, its own thoughts and desires. To know things as they are would be simultaneously to live over, as though from within and by a miracle of sympathy, the [25] biographies of an infinite number of distinct monads. This is absolutely impossible. Our senses represent the coexistent families of monads _in the gross_, and therefore conventionally; what is in fact the mutual representation of monads in ordered systems, is represented as the mechanical interaction of spatially extended and material parts.' This does not mean that science is overthrown. The physical world-view is in terms of the convention of representation, but it is not, for all that, illusory. It can, ideally, be made as true as it is capable of being. There is no reason whatever for confusing the 'well-grounded seemings' of the apparent physical world with the fantastic seemings of dream and hallucination. So far the argument seems to draw whatever cogency it has from the simplicity and naturalness of the notion of representation. The nature of idea, it is assumed, is to represent plurality in a unified view. If idea did not represent, it would not be idea. And since there _is_ idea (for our minds at least exist and are made up of idea) there is representation. It belongs to idea to represent, and since the whole world has now been interpreted as a system of mutually representing ideations, or ideators, it might seem that all their mutual relations are perfectly natural, a harmony of agreement which could not be other than it is. But if so, why does Leibniz keep saying that the harmony is _pre-established_, by special and infinitely elaborate divine decrees? Leibniz himself says that the very nature of representation excludes interaction. By representing environment a mind does not do anything to environment, that is plain. But it is no less plain that environment does nothing to it, either. The act of representing is simply the act of the mind; it represents _in view of_ environment, of course, but not under the causal influence of environment. Representation is a business carried on by the mind on its own account, and in virtue of its innate power to represent. Very well; but does this consideration really drive us into theology? Is not Leibniz the victim of a familiar fallacy, that of incompletely stated alternatives? '_Either_ finite beings interact _or else_ they do not directly condition one another. Monads do not interact, therefore they do not directly condition one another. How then explain the actual conformity of their mutual representation, without recourse to divine fore-ordaining?' It seems sufficient to introduce a further alternative in the first line of the argument, and we are rid of the theology. Things may condition the [26] action of a further thing, without acting upon it. It acts of itself, but it acts in view of what they are. We are tempted to conclude that Leibniz has introduced the _Deus ex machina_ with the fatal facility of his age. 'Where a little further meditation on the characters in the play would furnish a natural _dénouement_, he swings divine intervention on to the scene by wires from the ceiling. It is easy for us to reconstruct for him the end of the piece without recourse to stage-machines.' Is it? No, I fear it is not. There is really no avoiding the pre-established harmony. And so we shall discover, if we pursue our train of reflexion a little further. It is natural, we were saying, than an idea should represent an environment; indeed, it _is_ the representation of one. Given no environment to represent, it would be empty, a mere capacity for representation. Then every idea or ideator, taken merely in itself, _is_ an empty capacity. But of what is the environment of each made up? According to the Leibnitian theory, of further ideas or ideators: of empty capacities, therefore. Then no idea will either be anything in itself, or find anything in its neighbours to represent. An unhappy predicament, like that of a literary clique in which all the members are adepts at discussing one another's ideas--only that unfortunately none of them are provided with any; or like the shaky economics of the fabled Irish village where they all lived by taking in one another's washing. It is useless, then, to conceive representations as simply coming into existence in response to environment, and modelling themselves on environment. They must all mutually reflect environment or they would not be representations; but they must also exist as themselves and in their own right or there would be no environment for them mutually to represent. Since the world is infinitely various, each representor must have its own distinct character or nature, as our minds have: that is to say, it must represent in its own individual way; and all these endlessly various representations must be so constituted as to form a mutually reflecting harmony. Considered as a representation, each monadical existence simply reflects the universe after its own manner. But considered as something to be represented by the others, it is a self-existent mental life, or world of ideas. Now when we are considering the fact of representation, that which is to be represented comes first and the representation follows upon it. Thus in considering the Leibnitian universe, we must begin with the[27] monads as self-existent mental lives, or worlds of ideas; their representation of one another comes second. Nothing surely, then, but omnipotent creative wisdom could have pre-established between so many distinct given mental worlds that harmony which constitutes their mutual representation. Our common-sense pluralistic thinking escapes from the need of the pre-established harmony by distinguishing what we are from what we do. Let the world be made up of a plurality of agents in a 'loose' order, with room to manoeuvre and to adjust themselves to one another. Then, by good luck or good management, through friction and disaster, by trial and error, by accident or invention, they may work out for themselves a harmony of _action_. There is no need for divine preordaining here. But on Leibniz's view what the monads do is to represent, and what they are is representation; there is no ultimate distinction between what they are and what they do: all that they do belongs to what they are. The whole system of action in each monad, which fits with such infinite complexity the system of action in each other monad, is precisely the existence of that monad, and apart from it the monad is not. The monads do not _achieve_ a harmony, they _are_ a harmony, and therefore they are pre-established in harmony. Leibniz denied that he invoked God to intervene in nature, or that there was anything arbitrary or artificial about his physical theology. He was simply analysing nature and finding it to be a system of mutual representation; he was analysing mutual representation and finding it to be of its nature intrinsically pre-established, and therefore God-dependent. He was not adding anything to mutual representation, he was just showing what it necessarily contained or implied. At least he was doing nothing worse than recognized scholastic practice. Scholastic Aristotelianism explained all natural causality as response to stimulus, and then had to postulate a stimulus which stimulated without being stimulated, and this was God. Apart from this supreme and first stimulus nothing would in fact be moving. The Aristotelians claimed simply to be analysing the nature of physical motion as they perceived it, and to find the necessity of perpetually applied divine stimulation implicit in it. No violence was thereby done to the system of physical motion nor was anything brought in from without to patch it up; it was simply found to be of its own [28] nature God-dependent. It seems as though the reproachful description _'Deus ex machina'_ should be reserved for more arbitrary expedients than Aristotle's or Leibniz's, say for the occasionalist theory. Occasionalism appeared to introduce God that he might make physical matter do what it had no natural tendency to do, viz. to obey the volitions of finite mind. Ideas, on the other hand, have a natural tendency to represent one another, for to be an idea is to be a representation; God is not introduced by Leibniz to make them correspond, he is introduced to work a system in which they shall correspond. This may not be _Deus-ex-machina philosophy_, but it is _physical theology_; that is to say, it treats divine action as one factor among the factors which together constitute the working of the natural system. And this appears to be perhaps unscientific, certainly blasphemous: God's action cannot be a factor among factors; the Creator works through and in all creaturely action equally; we can never say 'This is the creature, and that is God' of distinguishable causalities in the natural world. The creature is, in its creaturely action, self-sufficient: but because a creature, insufficient to itself throughout, and sustained by its Creator both in existence and in action. The only acceptable argument for theism is that which corresponds to the religious consciousness, and builds upon the insufficiency of finite existence throughout, because it is finite. All arguments to God's existence from a particular gap in our account of the world of finites are to be rejected. They do not indicate God, they indicate the failure of our power to analyse the world-order. When Leibniz discovered that his system of mutual representations needed to be pre-established, he ought to have seen that he had come up a cul-de-sac and backed out; he ought not to have said, 'With the help of God I will leap over the wall.' If we condemn Leibniz for writing physical theology, we condemn not him but his age. No contemporary practice was any better, and much of it a good deal worse, as Leibniz liked somewhat complacently to point out. And because he comes to theology through physical theology, that does not mean that all his theology was physical theology and as such to be written off. On the contrary, Leibniz is led to wrestle with many problems which beset any philosophical theism of the Christian type. This is particularly so[29] in the _Theodicy_, as its many citations of theologians suggest. His discussions never lack ingenuity, and the system of creation and providence in which they result has much of that luminous serenity which colours the best works of the Age of Reason. Every theistic philosopher is bound, with whatever cautions, to conceive God by the analogy of the human mind. When Leibniz declares the harmony of monads to be pre-established by God, he is invoking the image of intelligent human pre-arrangement. Nor is he content simply to leave it at that: he endeavours as well as he may to conceive the sort of act by which God pre-arranges; and this involves the detailed adaptation for theological purposes of Leibnitian doctrine about the human mind. The human mind, as we have seen, is the mind predominant in a certain system of 'minds', viz. in those which constitute the members of the human body. If we call it predominant, we mean that its system of ideas is more developed than theirs, so that there are more points in which each of them conforms to it than in which it conforms to any one of them. The conception of a divine pre-establishing mind will be analogous. It will be the conception of a mind _absolutely_ dominant, to whose ideas, that is to say, the whole system simply corresponds, without any reciprocating correspondence on his side. In a certain sense this is to make God the 'Mind of the World'; and yet the associations of the phrase are misleading. It suggests that the world is an organism or body in which the divine mind is incarnate, and on which he relies for his representations. But that is nonsense; the world is not _a_ body, nor is it organic to God. Absolute dominance involves absolute transcendence: if everything in the world without remainder simply obeys the divine thoughts, that is only another way of saying that the world is the creature of God; the whole system is pre-established by him who is absolute Being and perfectly independent of the world. Of createdness, or pre-establishedness, there is no more to be said: we can think of it as nothing but the pure or absolute case of subjection to dominant mind. It is no use asking further _how_ God's thoughts are obeyed in the existence and action of things. What we can and must enquire into further, is the nature of the divine thoughts which are thus obeyed. They must be understood to be volitions or decrees. There are indeed two ways in which things obey the divine thought, and correspondingly two sorts of divine thoughts that they obey. In so far as created things conform to [30] the mere universal principles of reason, they obey a reasonableness which is an inherent characteristic of the divine mind itself. If God wills the existence of any creature, that creature's existence must observe the limits prescribed by eternal reason: it cannot, for example, both have and lack a certain characteristic in the same sense and at the same time; nor can it contain two parts and two parts which are not also countable as one part and three parts. Finite things, if they exist at all, must thus conform to the reasonableness of the divine nature, but what the divine reasonableness thus prescribes is highly general: we can deduce from it only certain laws which any finite things must obey, we can never deduce from it which finite things there are to be, nor indeed that there are to be any. Finite things are particular and individual: each of them might have been other than it is or, to speak more properly, instead of any one of them there might have existed something else; it was, according to the mere principles of eternal reason, equally possible. But if so, the whole universe, being made up of things each of which might be otherwise, might as a whole be otherwise. Therefore the divine thoughts which it obeys by existing have the nature of _choices_ or _decrees_. What material does the finite mind supply for an analogical picture of the infinite mind making choices or decrees? If we use such language of God, we are using language which has its first and natural application to ourselves. We all of us choose, and those of us who are in authority make decrees. What is to choose? It involves a real freedom in the mind. A finite mind, let us remember, is nothing but a self-operating succession of perceptions, ideas, or representations. With regard to some of our ideas we have no freedom, those, for example, which represent to us our body. We think of them as constituting our given substance. They are sheer datum for us, and so are those reflexions of our environment which they mediate to us. They make up a closely packed and confused mass; they persevere in their being with an obstinate innate force, the spiritual counterpart of the force which we have to recognize in things as physically interpreted. Being real spiritual force, it is quasi-voluntary, and indeed do we not love our own existence and, in a sense, will it in all its necessary circumstances? But if we can be said to will to be ourselves and to enact with native force what our body and its environment makes us, we are [31] merely willing to conform to the conditions of our existence; we are making no choice. When, however, we think freely or perform deliberate acts, there is not only force but choice in our activity. Choice between what? Between alternative possibilities arising out of our situation. And choice in virtue of what? In virtue of the appeal exercised by one alternative as seemingly better. Can we adapt our scheme of choice to the description of God's creative decrees? We will take the second point in it first: our choice is in virtue of the appeal of the seeming best. Surely the only corrective necessary in applying this to God is the omission of the word 'seeming'. His choice is in virtue of the appeal of the simply best. The other point causes more trouble. We choose between possibilities which arise for us out of our situation in the system of the existing world. But as the world does not exist before God's creative choices, he is in no world-situation, and no alternative possibilities can arise out of it, between which he should have to choose. But if God does not choose between intrinsic possibilities of some kind, his choice becomes something absolutely meaningless to us--it is not a choice at all, it is an arbitrary and unintelligible _fiat_. Leibniz's solution is this: what are mere possibilities of thought for us are possibilities of action for God. For a human subject, possibilities of action are limited to what arises out of his actual situation, but possibilities for thought are not so limited. I can conceive a world different in many respects from this world, in which, for example, vegetables should be gifted with thought and speech; but I can do nothing towards bringing it about. My imaginary world is practically impossible but speculatively possible, in the sense that it contradicts no single principle of necessary and immutable reason. I, indeed, can explore only a very little way into the region of sheer speculative possibility; God does not explore it, he simply possesses it all: the whole region of the possible is but a part of the content of his infinite mind. So among all possible creatures he chooses the best and creates it. But the whole realm of the possible is an actual infinity of ideas. Out of the consideration of an infinity of ideas, how can God arrive at a choice? Why not? His mind is not, of course, discursive; he does not successively turn over the leaves of an infinite book of sample worlds, for then he would never come to the end of it. Embracing infinite possibility in [32] the single act of his mind, he settles his will with intuitive immediacy upon the best. The inferior, the monstrous, the absurd is not a wilderness through which he painfully threads his way, it is that from which he immediately turns; his wisdom is his elimination of it. But in so applying the scheme of choice to God's act, have we not invalidated its application to our own? For if God has chosen the whole form and fabric of the world, he has chosen everything in it, including the choices we shall make. And if our choices have already been chosen for us by God, it would seem to follow that they are not real open choices on our part at all, but are pre-determined. And if they are pre-determined, it would seem that they are not really even choices, for a determined choice is not a choice. But if we do not ourselves exercise real choice in any degree, then we have no clue to what any choice would be: and if so, we have no power of conceiving divine choice, either; and so the whole argument cuts its own throat. There are two possible lines of escape from this predicament. One is to define human choice in such a sense that it allows of pre-determination without ceasing to be choice; and this is Leibniz's method, and it can be studied at length in the _Theodicy_. He certainly makes the very best he can of it, and it hardly seems that any of those contemporaries whose views he criticizes was in a position to answer him. The alternative method is to make the most of the negative element involved in all theology. After all, we do not positively or adequately understand the nature of infinite creative will. Perhaps it is precisely the transcendent glory of divine freedom to be able to work infallibly through free instruments. But so mystical a paradox is not the sort of thing we can expect to appeal to a late-seventeenth-century philosopher. One criticism of Leibniz's argument we cannot refrain from making. He allows himself too easy a triumph when he says that the only alternative to a choice determined by a prevailing inclination towards one proposal is a choice of mere caprice. There is a sort of choice Leibniz never so much as considers and which appears at least to fall quite outside his categories, and that is the sort of choice exercised in artistic creativity. In such choice we freely feel after the shaping of a scheme, we do not arbitrate simply between shaped and given possible schemes. And perhaps some such element enters into all our choices, since our life is to some extent [33] freely designed by ourselves. If so, our minds are even more akin to the divine mind than Leibniz realized. For the sort of choice we are now referring to seems to be an intuitive turning away from an infinite, or at least indefinite, range of less attractive possibility. And such is the nature of the divine creative choice. The consequence of such a line of speculation would be, that the divine mind designs more through us, and less simply for us, than Leibniz allowed: the 'harmony' into which we enter would be no longer simply 'pre-established'. Leibniz, in fact, could have nothing to do with such a suggestion, and he would have found it easy to be ironical about it if his contemporaries had proposed it. II Leibniz wrote two books; a considerable number of articles in learned periodicals; and an enormous number of unpublished notes, papers and letters, preserved in the archives of the Electors of Hanover not because of the philosophical significance of some of them, but because of the political importance of most of them. From among this great mass various excerpts of philosophical interest have been made by successive editors of Leibniz's works. It may be that the most profound understanding of his mind is to be derived from some of these pieces, but if we wish to consider the public history of Leibniz, we may set them aside. Of the two books, one was published, and the other never was. The _New Essays_ remained in Leibniz's desk, the _Theodicy_ saw the light. And so, to his own and the succeeding generation, Leibniz was known as the author of the _Theodicy_. The articles in journals form the immediate background to the two books. In 1696 Leibniz heard that a French translation of Locke's _Essay concerning Human Understanding_ was being prepared at Amsterdam. He wrote some polite comments on Locke's great work, and published them. He also sent them to Locke, hoping that Locke would write a reply, and that Leibniz's reflexions and Locke's reply might be appended to the projected French translation. But Locke set Leibniz's comments aside. Leibniz, not to be defeated, set to work upon the _New Essays_, in which the whole substance of Locke's book is systematically discussed in dialogue. The _New Essays_ were written in 1703. But meanwhile a painful dispute had broken out between Leibniz [34] and the disciples of Locke and Newton, in which the English, and perhaps Newton himself, were much to blame, and Leibniz thought it impolitic to publish his book. It was not issued until long after his death, in the middle of the century. The discussion with Locke was a failure: Locke would not play, and the book in which the whole controversy was to be systematized never appeared. The discussion with Bayle, on the other hand, was a model of what a discussion should be. Bayle played up tirelessly, and was never embarrassingly profound; he provided just the sort of objections most useful for drawing forth illuminating expositions; he was as good as a fictitious character in a philosophical dialogue. And the book in which the controversy was systematized duly appeared with great éclat. Here is the history of the controversy. In 1695 Leibniz was forty-nine years old. He had just emerged from a period of close employment under his prince's commands, and he thought fit to try his metaphysical principles upon the polite world and see what would come of it. He therefore published an article in the _Journal des Savants_ under the title: 'New System of Nature and of the Communication of Substances, as well as of the Union between Soul and Body'. In the same year Foucher published an article in the _Journal_ controverting Leibniz; and in the next year Leibniz replied with an 'Explanation'. A second explanation in the same year appeared in Basnage's _Histoire des Ouvrages des Savants_, in answer to reflexions by the editor. M. Pierre Bayle had all these articles before him when he inserted a note on Leibniz's doctrine in his article on 'Rorarius', in the first edition of his _Historical and Critical Dictionary_. The point of connexion between Rorarius and Leibniz was no more than this, that both held views about the souls of beasts. Pierre Bayle was the son of a Calvinist pastor, early converted to Catholicism, but recovered to his old faith after a short time. He held academic employments in Switzerland and Holland; he promoted and edited the _Nouvelles de la République des Lettres_, and he produced that extraordinary work the _Historical and Critical Dictionary._ The notices it contains of authors and thinkers are little more than pegs upon which Bayle could hang his philosophical reflexions. He could write an intelligent discussion on any opinion; what he could not do was to reconcile the points of view from which he felt impelled to write upon this author and that.[35] His was not a systematic mind. So far as he had a philosophical opinion, he was a Cartesian; in theology he was an orthodox Calvinist. He could not reconcile his theology with his Cartesianism and he did not try to. He made a merit of the oppositions of faith to reason and reason to itself, so that he could throw himself upon a meritorious and voluntary faith. There is nothing original in this position. It was characteristic of decadent scholasticism, it squared with Luther's exaggerations about the impotence of reason in fallen man, and Pascal had given his own highly personal twist to it. Bayle has been hailed as a forerunner of Voltairean scepticism. It would be truer to say that a Voltairean sceptic could read Bayle's discussions in his own sense and for his own purposes if he wished. But Bayle was not a sceptic. It is hard to say what he was; his whole position as between faith and reason is hopelessly confused. He was a scholar, a wit, and a philosophical sparring-partner of so perfectly convenient a kind that if we had not evidence of his historical reality, we might have suspected Leibniz of inventing him. In the first edition of his _Dictionary_, under the article 'Rorarius', Bayle gave a very fair account of Leibniz's doctrine concerning the souls of animals, as it could be collected from his article in the _Journal des Savants_, 27 June 1695. He then proceeded to comment upon it in the following terms: 'There are some things in Mr. Leibniz's hypothesis that are liable to some difficulties, though they show the great extent of his genius. He will have it, for example, that the soul of a dog acts independently of outward bodies; that _it stands upon its own bottom, by a perfect _spontaneity_ with respect to itself, and yet with a perfect _conformity_ to outward things_.... That _its internal perceptions arise from its original constitution, that is to say, the representative constitution (capable of expressing beings outside itself in relation to its organs) which was bestowed upon it from the time of its creation, and makes its individual character_ (_Journal des Savants_, 4 July 1695). From whence it results that it would feel hunger and thirst at such and such an hour, though there were not any one body in the universe, and _though nothing should exist but God and that soul_. He has explained (_Histoire des Ouvrages des Savants_, Feb. 1696) his thought by the example of two pendulums that should perfectly agree: that is, he supposes that according to the particular laws which put the soul upon action, it must feel hunger at such an hour; [36] and that according to the particular laws which direct the motion of matter, the body which is united to that soul must be modified at that same hour as it is modified when the soul is hungry. I will forbear preferring this system to that of occasional causes till the learned author has perfected it. I cannot apprehend the connexion of internal and spontaneous actions which would have this effect, that the soul of a dog would feel pain immediately after having felt joy, though it were alone in the universe. I understand why a dog passes immediately from pleasure to pain when, being very hungry and eating a piece of bread, he is suddenly struck with a cudgel. But I cannot apprehend that his soul should be so framed that at the very moment of his being beaten he should feel pain though he were not beaten, and though he should continue to eat bread without any trouble or hindrance. Nor do I see how the spontaneity of that soul should be consistent with the sense of pain, and in general with any unpleasing perceptions. 'Besides, the reason why this learned man does not like the Cartesian system seems to me to be a false supposition; for it cannot be said that the system of occasional causes brings in God acting by a miracle (ibid.), _Deum ex machina_, in the mutual dependency of the body and soul: for since God does only intervene according to general laws, he cannot be said to act in an extraordinary manner. Does the internal and active virtue communicated to the forms of bodies according to M. Leibniz know the train of actions which it is to produce? By no means; for we know by experience that we are ignorant whether we shall have such and such perceptions in an hour's time. It were therefore necessary that the forms should be directed by some internal principle in the production of their acts. But this would be _Deus ex machina,_ as much as in the system of occasional causes. In fine, as he supposes with great reason that all souls are simple and indivisible, it cannot be apprehended how they can be compared with a pendulum, that is, how by their original constitution they can diversify their operations by using the spontaneous activity bestowed upon them by their Creator. It may clearly be conceived that a simple being will always act in a uniform manner, if no external cause hinders it. If it were composed of several pieces, as a machine, it would act different ways, because the peculiar activity of each piece might change every moment the progress of others; but how will you find in a simple substance the [37] cause of a change of operation?' Leibniz published a reply to Bayle in the _Histoire des Ouvrages des Savants_ for July 1698. As in all his references to Bayle, he is studiously polite and repays compliment for compliment. The following are perhaps the principal points of his answer. 1. On the example of the dog: (_a_) How should it of itself change its sentiment, since everything left to itself continues in the state in which it is? Because the state may be a state of _change_, as in a moving body which, unless hindered, continues to move. And such is the nature of simple substances--they continue to evolve steadily. (_b_) Would it really feel as though beaten if it were not beaten, since Leibniz says that the action of every substance takes place as though nothing existed but God and itself? Leibniz replies that his remark refers to the causality behind an action, not to the reasons for it. The spontaneous action of the dog, which leads to the feeling of pain, is only decreed to be what it is, for the reason that the dog is part of a world of mutually reflecting substances, a world which also includes the cudgel. (_c_) Why should the dog ever be displeased _spontaneously_? Leibniz distinguishes the spontaneous from the voluntary: many things occur in the mind, of itself, but not chosen by it. 2. On Cartesianism and miracle: Cartesianism in the form of occasionalism _does_ involve miracle, for though God is said by it to act according to laws in conforming body and mind to one another, he thereby causes them to act beyond their natural capacities. 3. On the problem, how can the simple act otherwise than uniformly? Leibniz distinguishes: some uniform action is monotonous, but some is not. A point moves uniformly in describing a parabola, for it constantly fulfils the formula of the curve. But it does not move monotonously, for the curve constantly varies. Such is the uniformity of the action of simple substances. Bayle read this reply, and was pleased but not satisfied with it. In the second edition of the dictionary, under the same article 'Rorarius', he added the following note: 'I declare first of all that I am very glad I have proposed some small difficulties against the system of that great philosopher, since they [38] have occasioned some answers whereby that subject has been made clearer to me, and which have given me a more distinct notion of what is most to be admired in it. I look now upon that new system as an important conquest, which enlarges the bounds of philosophy. We had only two hypotheses, that of the Schools and that of the Cartesians: the one was a _way of influence_ of the body upon the soul and of the soul upon the body; the other was a _way of assistance_ or occasional causality. But here is a new acquisition, a new hypothesis, which may be called, as Fr. Lami styles it, a _way of pre-established harmony_. We are beholden for it to M. Leibniz, and it is impossible to conceive anything that gives us a nobler idea of the power and wisdom of the Author of all things. This, together with the advantage of setting aside all notions of a miraculous conduct, would engage me to prefer this new system to that of the Cartesians, if I could conceive any possibility in the _way of pre-established harmony_. 'I desire the reader to take notice that though I confess that this way removes all notions of a miraculous conduct, yet I do not retract what I have said formerly, that the system of occasional causes does not bring in God acting miraculously. (See M. Leibniz's article in _Histoire des Ouvrages des Savants_, July 1698.) I am as much persuaded as ever I was that an action cannot be said to be miraculous, unless God produces it as an exception to the general laws; and that everything of which he is immediately the author according to those laws is distinct from a miracle properly so called. But being willing to cut off from this dispute as many things as I possibly can, I consent it should be said that the surest way of removing all notions that include a miracle is to suppose that all created substances are actively the immediate causes of the effects of nature. I will therefore lay aside what I might reply to that part of M. Leibniz's answer. 'I will also omit all objections which are not more contrary to his opinion than to that of some other philosophers. I will not therefore propose the difficulties that may be raised against the supposition that a creature can receive from God the power of moving itself. They are strong and almost unanswerable, but M. Leibniz's system does not lie more open to them than that of the Aristotelians; nay, I do not know whether the Cartesians would presume to say that God cannot communicate to our souls a power of acting. If they say so, how can they own that Adam sinned? And if they dare not[39] say so they weaken the arguments whereby they endeavour to prove that matter is not capable of any activity. Nor do I believe that it is more difficult for M. Leibniz than for the Cartesians or other philosophers, to free himself from the objection of a fatal mechanism which destroys human liberty. Wherefore, waiving this, I shall only speak of what is peculiar to the system of the _pre-established harmony_. 'I. My first observation shall be, that it raises the power and wisdom of the divine art above everything that can be conceived. Fancy to yourself a ship which, without having any sense or knowledge, and without being directed by any created or uncreated being, has the power of moving itself so seasonably as to have always the wind favourable, to avoid currents and rocks, to cast anchor where it ought to be done, and to retire into a harbour precisely when it is necessary. Suppose such a ship sails in that manner for several years successively, being always turned and situated as it ought to be, according to the several changes of the air and the different situations of seas and lands; you will acknowledge that God, notwithstanding his infinite power, cannot communicate such a faculty to a ship; or rather you will say that the nature of a ship is not capable of receiving it from God. And yet what M. Leibniz supposes about the machine of a human body is more admirable and more surprising than all this. Let us apply his system concerning the union of the soul with the body to the person of Julius Caesar. 'II. We must say according to this system that the body of Julius Caesar did so exercise its moving faculty that from its birth to its death it went through continual changes which did most exactly answer the perpetual changes of a certain soul which it did not know and which made no impression on it. We must say that the rule according to which that faculty of Caesar's body performed such actions was such, that he would have gone to the Senate upon such a day and at such an hour, that he would have spoken there such and such words, etc., though God had willed to annihilate his soul the next day after it was created. We must say that this moving power did change and modify itself exactly according to the volubility of the thoughts of that ambitious man, and that it was affected precisely in a certain manner rather than in another, because the soul of Caesar passed from a certain thought to another. Can a blind power modify itself so exactly by virtue of an impression communicated thirty or forty years [40] before and never renewed since, but left to itself, without ever knowing what it is to do? Is not this much more incomprehensible than the navigation I spoke of in the foregoing paragraph? 'III. The difficulty will be greater still, if it be considered that the human machine contains an almost infinite number of organs, and that it is continually exposed to the shock of the bodies that surround it,[1] and which by an innumerable variety of shakings produce in it a thousand sorts of modifications. How is it possible to conceive that this _pre-established harmony_ should never be disordered, but go on still during the longest life of a man, notwithstanding the infinite varieties of the reciprocal action of so many organs upon one another, which are surrounded on all sides with infinite corpuscles, sometimes hot and sometimes cold, sometimes dry and sometimes moist, and always acting, and pricking the nerves a thousand different ways? Suppose that the multiplicity of organs and of external agents be a necessary instrument of the almost infinite variety of changes in a human body: will that variety have the exactness here required? Will it never disturb the correspondence of those changes with the changes of the soul? This seems to be altogether impossible. [1] 'According to M. Leibniz what is active in every substance ought to be reduced to a true unity. Since therefore the body of every man is composed of several substances, each of them ought to have a principle of action really distinct from the principle of each of the others. He will have the action of every principle to be spontaneous. Now this must vary the effects _ad infinitum_, and confound them. For the impression of the neighbouring bodies must needs put some constraint upon the natural spontaneity of every one of them.' 'IV. It is in vain to have recourse to the power of God, in order to maintain that brutes are mere machines; it is in vain to say that God was able to make machines so artfully contrived that the voice of a man, the reflected light of an object, etc., will strike them exactly where it is necessary, that they may move in a given manner. This supposition is rejected by everybody except some Cartesians; and no Cartesian would admit it if it were to be extended to man; that is, if anyone were to assert that God was able to form such bodies as would mechanically do whatever we see other men do. By denying this we do not pretend to limit the power and knowledge of God: we only mean that the nature of things does not permit that the faculties imparted to a creature should not be necessarily confined within certain bounds. The actions of creatures must be [41] necessarily proportioned to their essential state, and performed according to the character belonging to each machine; for according to the maxim of the philosophers, whatever is received is proportionate to the capacity of the subject that receives it. We may therefore reject M. Leibniz's hypothesis as being impossible, since it is liable to greater difficulties than that of the Cartesians, which makes beasts to be mere machines. It puts a perpetual harmony between two beings, which do not act one upon another; whereas if servants were mere machines, and should punctually obey their masters' command, it could not be said that they do it without a real action of their masters upon them; for their masters would speak words and make signs which would really shake and move the organs of the servants. 'V. Now let us consider the soul of Julius Caesar, and we shall find the thing more impossible still. That soul was in the world without being exposed to the influence of any spirit. The power it received from God was the only principle of the actions it produced at every moment: and if those actions were different one from another, it was not because some of them were produced by the united influence of some springs which did not contribute to the production of others, for the soul of man is simple, indivisible and immaterial. M. Leibniz owns it; and if he did not acknowledge it, but if, on the contrary, he should suppose with most philosophers and some of the most excellent metaphysicians of our age (Mr. Locke, for instance) that a compound of several material parts placed and disposed in a certain manner, is capable of thinking, his hypothesis would appear to be on that very ground absolutely impossible, and I could refute it several other ways; which I need not mention since he acknowledges the immateriality of our soul and builds upon it. 'Let us return to the soul of Julius Caesar, and call it an immaterial automaton (M. Leibniz's own phrase), and compare it with an atom of Epicurus; I mean an atom surrounded with a vacuum on all sides, and which will never meet any other atom. This is a very just comparison: for this atom, on the one hand, has a natural power of moving itself and exerts it without any assistance, and without being retarded or hindered by anything: and, on the other hand, the soul of Caesar is a spirit which has received the faculty of producing thoughts, and exerts it without the influence [42] of any other spirit or of any body. It is neither assisted nor thwarted by anything whatsoever. If you consult the common notions and the ideas of order, you will find that this atom can never stop, and that having been in motion in the foregoing moment, it will continue in it at the present moment and in all the moments that shall follow, and that it will always move in the same manner. This is the consequence of an axiom approved by M. Leibniz: _since a thing does always remain in the same state wherein it happens to be, unless it receives some alteration from some other thing ... we conclude_, says he, _not only that a body which is at rest will always be at rest, but that a body in motion will always keep that motion or change, that is, the same swiftness and the same direction, unless something happens to hinder it_. (M. Leibniz, ibid.) 'Everyone clearly sees that this atom, whether it moves by an innate power, as Democritus and Epicurus would have it, or by a power received from the Creator, will always move in the same line equally and after a uniform manner, without ever turning or going back. Epicurus was laughed at, when he invented the motion of declination; it was a needless supposition, which he wanted in order to get out of the labyrinth of a fatal necessity; and he could give no reason for this new part of his system. It was inconsistent with the clearest notions of our minds: for it is evident that an atom which describes a straight line for the space of two days cannot turn away at the beginning of a third, unless it meets with some obstacle, or has a mind all of a sudden to go out of its road, or contains some spring which begins to play at that very moment. The first of these reasons cannot be admitted in a vacuum. The second is impossible, since an atom has not the faculty of thinking. And the third is likewise impossible in a corpuscle that is a perfect unity. I must make some use of all this. 'VI. Caesar's soul is a being to which unity belongs in a strict sense. The faculty of producing thoughts is a property of its nature (so M. Leibniz), which it has received from God, both as to possession and exercise. If the first thought it produces is a sense of pleasure, there is no reason why the second should not likewise be a sense of pleasure; for when the total cause of an effect remains the same, the effect cannot be altered. Now this soul, at the second moment of its existence, does not receive a new faculty of thinking; it only preserves the faculty it had at the first moment, and it is as independent of the concourse of any other cause at the second [43] moment as it was at the first. It must therefore produce again at the second moment the same thought it had produced just before. If it be objected that it ought to be in a state of change, and that it would not be in such a state, in the case that I have supposed; I answer that its change will be like the change of the atom; for an atom which continually moves in the same line acquires a new situation at every moment, but it is like the preceding situation. A soul may therefore continue in its state of change, if it does but produce a new thought like the preceding. 'But suppose it to be not confined within such narrow bounds; it must be granted at least that its going from one thought to another implies some reason of affinity. If I suppose that in a certain moment the soul of Caesar sees a tree with leaves and blossoms, I can conceive that it does immediately desire to see one that has only leaves, and then one that has only blossoms, and that it will thus successively produce several images arising from one another; but one cannot conceive the odd change of thoughts, which have no affinity with, but are even contrary to, one another, and which are so common in men's souls. One cannot apprehend how God could place in the soul of Julius Caesar the principle of what I am going to say. He was without doubt pricked with a pin more than once, when he was sucking; and therefore according to M. Leibniz's hypothesis which I am here considering, his soul must have produced in itself a sense of pain immediately after the pleasant sensations of the sweetness of the milk, which it had enjoyed for the space of two or three minutes. By what springs was it determined to interrupt its pleasures and to give itself all of a sudden a sense of pain, without receiving any intimation of preparing itself to change, and without any new alteration in its substance? If you run over the life of that Roman emperor, every page will afford you matter for a stronger objection than this is. 'VII. The thing would be less incomprehensible if it were supposed that the soul of man is not one spirit but rather a multitude of spirits, each of which has its functions, that begin and end precisely as the changes made in a human body require. By virtue of this supposition it should be said that something analogous to a great number of wheels and springs, or of matters that ferment, disposed according to the changes of our machine, awakens or lulls asleep for a certain time the action of each of those spirits. But then the soul of man would be no longer a single substance[44] but an _ens per aggregationem_, a collection and heap of substances just like all material beings. We are here in quest of a single being, which produces in itself sometimes joy, sometimes pain, etc., and not of many beings, one of which produces hope, another despair, etc. 'In these observations I have merely cleared and unfolded those which M. Leibniz has done me the honour to examine: and now I shall make some reflexions upon his answers. 'VIII. He says (ibid., p. 332) that _the law of the change which happens in the substance of the animal transports him from pleasure to pain at the very moment that a solution of continuity is made in his body; because the law of the indivisible substance of that animal is to represent what is done in his body as we experience it, and even to represent in some manner, and with respect to that body, whatever is done in the world_. These words are a very good explication of the grounds of this system; they are, as it were, the unfolding and key of it; but at the same time they are the very things at which the objections of those who take this system to be impossible are levelled. The law M. Leibniz speaks of supposes a decree of God, and shows wherein this system agrees with that of occasional causes. Those two systems agree in this point, that there are laws according to which the soul of man is _to represent what is done in the body of man, as we experience it_. But they disagree as to the manner of executing those laws. The Cartesians say that God executes them; M. Leibniz will have it, that the soul itself does it; which appears to me impossible, because the soul has not the necessary instruments for such an execution. Now however infinite the power and knowledge of God be, he cannot perform with a machine deprived of a certain piece, what requires the concourse of such a piece. He must supply that defect; but then the effect would be produced by him and not by the machine. I shall show that the soul has not the instruments requisite for the divine law we speak of, and in order to do it I shall make use of a comparison. 'Fancy to yourself an animal created by God and designed to sing continually. It will always sing, that is most certain; but if God designs him a certain tablature, he must necessarily either put it before his eyes or imprint it upon his memory or dispose his muscles in such a manner that according to the laws of mechanism one certain note will always come after another, agreeably to the order of the tablature. Without this one cannot apprehend that the animal can always follow the whole set of the notes [45] appointed him by God. Let us apply this to man's soul. M. Leibniz will have it that it has received not only the power of producing thoughts continually, but also the faculty of following always a certain set of thoughts, which answers the continual changes that happen in the machine of the body. This set of thoughts is like the tablature prescribed to the singing animal above mentioned. Can the soul change its perceptions or modifications at every moment according to such a set of thoughts, without knowing the series of the notes, and actually thinking upon them? But experience teaches us that it knows nothing of it. Were it not at least necessary that in default of such a knowledge, there should be in the soul a set of particular instruments, each of which would be a necessary cause of such and such a thought? Must they not be so placed and disposed as to operate precisely one after another, according to the correspondence _pre-established_ between the changes of the body and the thoughts of the soul? but it is most certain that an immaterial simple and indivisible substance cannot be made up of such an innumerable multitude of particular instruments placed one before another, according to the order of the tablature in question. It is not therefore possible that a human soul should execute that law. 'M. Leibniz supposes that the soul does not distinctly know its future perceptions, _but that it perceives them confusedly_, and that _there are in each substance traces of whatever hath happened, or shall happen to it: but that an infinite multitude of perceptions hinders us from distinguishing them. The present state of each substance is a natural consequence of its preceding state. The soul, though never so simple, has always a sentiment composed of several perceptions at one time: which answers our end as well as though it were composed of pieces, like a machine. For each foregoing perception has an influence on those that follow agreeably to a law of order, which is in perceptions as well as in motions...The perceptions that are together in one and the same soul at the same time, including an infinite multitude of little and indistinguishable sentiments that are to be unfolded, we need not wonder at the infinite variety of what is to result from it in time. This is only a consequence of the representative nature of the soul, which is, to express what happens and what will happen in its body, by the connexion and correspondence of all the parts of the world_. I have but little to say in answer to this: I shall only observe that this supposition when sufficiently cleared is the right way of solving all the difficulties. M. Leibniz, through the [46] penetration of his great genius, has very well conceived the extent and strength of this objection, and what remedy ought to be applied to the main inconveniency. I do not doubt but that he will smooth the rough parts of his system, and teach us some excellent things about the nature of spirits. Nobody can travel more usefully or more safely than he in the intellectual world. I hope that his curious explanations will remove all the impossibilities which I have hitherto found in his system, and that he will solidly remove my difficulties, as well as those of Father Lami. And these hopes made me say before, without designing to pass a compliment upon that learned man, that his system ought to be looked upon as an important conquest. 'He will not be much embarrassed by this, viz. that whereas according to the supposition of the Cartesians there is but one general law for the union of spirits and bodies, he will have it that God gives a particular law to each spirit; from whence it seems to result that the primitive constitution of each spirit is specifically different from all others. Do not the Thomists say, that there are as many species as individuals in angelic nature?' Leibniz acknowledged Bayle's note in a further reply, which is written as though for publication. It was communicated to Bayle, but it was not in fact published. It is dated 1702. It may be found in the standard collections of Leibniz's philosophical works. It reads almost like a sketch for the _Theodicy_. The principal point developed by Leibniz is the richness of content which, according to him, is to be found in each 'simple substance'. Its simplicity is more like the infinitely rich simplicity of the divine Being, than like the simplicity of the atom of Epicurus, with which Bayle had chosen to compare it. It contains a condensation in confused idea of the whole universe: and its essence is from the first defined by the part it is to play in the total harmony. As to the musical score ('tablature of notes') which the individual soul plays from, in order to perform its ordained part in the universal harmony, this 'score' is to be found in the confused or implicit ideas at any moment present, from which an omniscient observer could always deduce what is to happen next. To the objection 'But the created soul is not an omniscient observer, and if it cannot read the score, the score is useless to it',[47] Leibniz replies by affirming that much spontaneous action arises from subjective and yet unperceived reasons, as we are all perfectly aware, once we attend to the relevant facts. All he claims to be doing is to generalize this observation. All events whatsoever arise from the 'interpretation of the score' by monads, but very little of this 'interpretation' is in the least conscious. Leibniz passes from the remarks about his own doctrine under the article 'Rorarius' to other articles of Bayle's dictionary, and touches the question of the origin of evil, and other matters which receive their fuller treatment in the _Theodicy_. In the same year Leibniz wrote a very friendly letter to Bayle himself, offering further explanations of disputed points. He concluded it with a paragraph of some personal interest, comparing himself the historian-philosopher with Bayle the philosophic lexicographer, and revealing by the way his attitude to philosophy, science and history: 'We have good reason to admire, Sir, the way in which your striking reflexions on the deepest questions of philosophy remain unhindered by your boundless researches into matters of fact. I too am not always able to excuse myself from discussions of the sort, and have even been obliged to descend to questions of genealogy, which would be still more trifling, were it not that the interests of States frequently depend upon them. I have worked much on the history of Germany in so far as it bears upon these countries, a study which has furnished me with some observations belonging to general history. So I have learnt not to neglect the knowledge of sheer facts. But if the choice were open to me, I should prefer natural history to political, and the customs and laws God has established in nature, to what is observed among mankind.' Leibniz now conceived the idea of putting together all the passages in Bayle's works which interested him, and writing a systematic answer to them. Before he had leisure to finish the task, Bayle died. The work nevertheless appeared in 1710 as the Essays in _Theodicy_. [49] * * * * * PREFACE * * * * * It has ever been seen that men in general have resorted to outward forms for the expression of their religion: sound piety, that is to say, light and virtue, has never been the portion of the many. One should not wonder at this, nothing is so much in accord with human weakness. We are impressed by what is outward, while the inner essence of things requires consideration of such a kind as few persons are fitted to give. As true piety consists in principles and practice, the outward forms of religion imitate these, and are of two kinds: the one kind consists in ceremonial practices, and the other in the formularies of belief. Ceremonies resemble virtuous actions, and formularies are like shadows of the truth and approach, more or less, the true light. All these outward forms would be commendable if those who invented them had rendered them appropriate to maintain and to express that which they imitate--if religious ceremonies, ecclesiastical discipline, the rules of communities, human laws were always like a hedge round the divine law, to withdraw us from any approach to vice, to inure us to the good and to make us familiar with virtue. That was the aim of Moses and of other good lawgivers, of the wise men who founded religious orders, and above all of Jesus Christ, divine founder of the purest and most enlightened religion. It is just the same with the formularies of belief: they would be valid provided there were nothing [50] in them inconsistent with truth unto salvation, even though the full truth concerned were not there. But it happens only too often that religion is choked in ceremonial, and that the divine light is obscured by the opinions of men. The pagans, who inhabited the earth before Christianity was founded, had only one kind of outward form: they had ceremonies in their worship, but they had no articles of faith and had never dreamed of drawing up formularies for their dogmatic theology. They knew not whether their gods were real persons or symbols of the forces of Nature, as the sun, the planets, the elements. Their mysteries consisted not in difficult dogmas but in certain secret observances, whence the profane, namely those who were not initiated, were excluded. These observances were very often ridiculous and absurd, and it was necessary to conceal them in order to guard them against contempt. The pagans had their superstitions: they boasted of miracles, everything with them was full of oracles, auguries, portents, divinations; the priests invented signs of the anger or of the goodness of the gods, whose interpreters they claimed to be. This tended to sway minds through fear and hope concerning human events; but the great future of another life was scarce envisaged; one did not trouble to impart to men true notions of God and of the soul. Of all ancient peoples, it appears that the Hebrews alone had public dogmas for their religion. Abraham and Moses established the belief in one God, source of all good, author of all things. The Hebrews speak of him in a manner worthy of the Supreme Substance; and one wonders at seeing the inhabitants of one small region of the earth more enlightened than the rest of the human race. Peradventure the wise men of other nations have sometimes said the same, but they have not had the good fortune to find a sufficient following and to convert the dogma into law. Nevertheless Moses had not inserted in his laws the doctrine of the immortality of souls: it was consistent with his ideas, it was taught by oral tradition; but it was not proclaimed for popular acceptance until Jesus Christ lifted the veil, and, without having force in his hand, taught with all the force of a lawgiver that immortal souls pass into another life, wherein they shall receive the wages of their deeds. Moses had already expressed the beautiful conceptions of the greatness and the goodness of God, whereto many civilized peoples to-day assent; but Jesus Christ demonstrated fully [51] the results of these ideas, proclaiming that divine goodness and justice are shown forth to perfection in God's designs for the souls of men. I refrain from considering here the other points of the Christian doctrine, and I will show only how Jesus Christ brought about the conversion of natural religion into law, and gained for it the authority of a public dogma. He alone did that which so many philosophers had endeavoured in vain to do; and Christians having at last gained the upper hand in the Roman Empire, the master of the greater part of the known earth, the religion of the wise men became that of the nations. Later also Mahomet showed no divergence from the great dogmas of natural theology: his followers spread them abroad even among the most remote races of Asia and of Africa, whither Christianity had not been carried; and they abolished in many countries heathen superstitions which were contrary to the true doctrine of the unity of God and the immortality of souls. It is clear that Jesus Christ, completing what Moses had begun, wished that the Divinity should be the object not only of our fear and veneration but also of our love and devotion. Thus he made men happy by anticipation, and gave them here on earth a foretaste of future felicity. For there is nothing so agreeable as loving that which is worthy of love. Love is that mental state which makes us take pleasure in the perfections of the object of our love, and there is nothing more perfect than God, nor any greater delight than in him. To love him it suffices to contemplate his perfections, a thing easy indeed, because we find the ideas of these within ourselves. The perfections of God are those of our souls, but he possesses them in boundless measure; he is an Ocean, whereof to us only drops have been granted; there is in us some power, some knowledge, some goodness, but in God they are all in their entirety. Order, proportions, harmony delight us; painting and music are samples of these: God is all order; he always keeps truth of proportions, he makes universal harmony; all beauty is an effusion of his rays. It follows manifestly that true piety and even true felicity consist in the love of God, but a love so enlightened that its fervour is attended by insight. This kind of love begets that pleasure in good actions which gives relief to virtue, and, relating all to God as to the centre, transports the human to the divine. For in doing one's duty, in obeying reason, one [52] carries out the orders of Supreme Reason. One directs all one's intentions to the common good, which is no other than the glory of God. Thus one finds that there is no greater individual interest than to espouse that of the community, and one gains satisfaction for oneself by taking pleasure in the acquisition of true benefits for men. Whether one succeeds therein or not, one is content with what comes to pass, being once resigned to the will of God and knowing that what he wills is best. But before he declares his will by the event one endeavours to find it out by doing that which appears most in accord with his commands. When we are in this state of mind, we are not disheartened by ill success, we regret only our faults; and the ungrateful ways of men cause no relaxation in the exercise of our kindly disposition. Our charity is humble and full of moderation, it presumes not to domineer; attentive alike to our own faults and to the talents of others, we are inclined to criticize our own actions and to excuse and vindicate those of others. We must work out our own perfection and do wrong to no man. There is no piety where there is not charity; and without being kindly and beneficent one cannot show sincere religion. Good disposition, favourable upbringing, association with pious and virtuous persons may contribute much towards such a propitious condition for our souls; but most securely are they grounded therein by good principles. I have already said that insight must be joined to fervour, that the perfecting of our understanding must accomplish the perfecting of our will. The practices of virtue, as well as those of vice, may be the effect of a mere habit, one may acquire a taste for them; but when virtue is reasonable, when it is related to God, who is the supreme reason of things, it is founded on knowledge. One cannot love God without knowing his perfections, and this knowledge contains the principles of true piety. The purpose of religion should be to imprint these principles upon our souls: but in some strange way it has happened all too often that men, that teachers of religion have strayed far from this purpose. Contrary to the intention of our divine Master, devotion has been reduced to ceremonies and doctrine has been cumbered with formulae. All too often these ceremonies have not been well fitted to maintain the exercise of virtue, and the formulae sometimes have not been lucid. Can one believe it? Some Christians have imagined that they could be devout without loving their neighbour,[53] and pious without loving God; or else people have thought that they could love their neighbour without serving him and could love God without knowing him. Many centuries have passed without recognition of this defect by the people at large; and there are still great traces of the reign of darkness. There are divers persons who speak much of piety, of devotion, of religion, who are even busied with the teaching of such things, and who yet prove to be by no means versed in the divine perfections. They ill understand the goodness and the justice of the Sovereign of the universe; they imagine a God who deserves neither to be imitated nor to be loved. This indeed seemed to me dangerous in its effect, since it is of serious moment that the very source of piety should be preserved from infection. The old errors of those who arraigned the Divinity or who made thereof an evil principle have been renewed sometimes in our own days: people have pleaded the irresistible power of God when it was a question rather of presenting his supreme goodness; and they have assumed a despotic power when they should rather have conceived of a power ordered by the most perfect wisdom. I have observed that these opinions, apt to do harm, rested especially on confused notions which had been formed concerning freedom, necessity and destiny; and I have taken up my pen more than once on such an occasion to give explanations on these important matters. But finally I have been compelled to gather up my thoughts on all these connected questions, and to impart them to the public. It is this that I have undertaken in the Essays which I offer here, on the Goodness of God, the Freedom of Man, and the Origin of Evil. There are two famous labyrinths where our reason very often goes astray: one concerns the great question of the Free and the Necessary, above all in the production and the origin of Evil; the other consists in the discussion of continuity and of the indivisibles which appear to be the elements thereof, and where the consideration of the infinite must enter in. The first perplexes almost all the human race, the other exercises philosophers only. I shall have perchance at another time an opportunity to declare myself on the second, and to point out that, for lack of a true conception of the nature of substance and matter, people have taken up false positions leading to insurmountable difficulties, difficulties which should properly be applied to the overthrow of these very positions. But if the [54] knowledge of continuity is important for speculative enquiry, that of necessity is none the less so for practical application; and it, together with the questions therewith connected, to wit, the freedom of man and the justice of God, forms the object of this treatise. Men have been perplexed in well-nigh every age by a sophism which the ancients called the 'Lazy Reason', because it tended towards doing nothing, or at least towards being careful for nothing and only following inclination for the pleasure of the moment. For, they said, if the future is necessary, that which must happen will happen, whatever I may do. Now the future (so they said) is necessary, whether because the Divinity foresees everything, and even pre-establishes it by the control of all things in the universe; or because everything happens of necessity, through the concatenation of causes; or finally, through the very nature of truth, which is determinate in the assertions that can be made on future events, as it is in all assertions, since the assertion must always be true or false in itself, even though we know not always which it is. And all these reasons for determination which appear different converge finally like lines upon one and the same centre; for there is a truth in the future event which is predetermined by the causes, and God pre-establishes it in establishing the causes. The false conception of necessity, being applied in practice, has given rise to what I call _Fatum Mahometanum_, fate after the Turkish fashion, because it is said of the Turks that they do not shun danger or even abandon places infected with plague, owing to their use of such reasoning as that just recorded. For what is called _Fatum Stoicum_ was not so black as it is painted: it did not divert men from the care of their affairs, but it tended to give them tranquillity in regard to events, through the consideration of necessity, which renders our anxieties and our vexations needless. In which respect these philosophers were not far removed from the teaching of our Lord, who deprecates these anxieties in regard to the morrow, comparing them with the needless trouble a man would give himself in labouring to increase his stature. It is true that the teachings of the Stoics (and perhaps also of some famous philosophers of our time), confining themselves to this alleged necessity, can only impart a forced patience; whereas our Lord inspires thoughts more sublime, and even instructs us in the means of gaining contentment by assuring us that since God, being altogether good and [55] wise, has care for everything, even so far as not to neglect one hair of our head, our confidence in him ought to be entire. And thus we should see, if we were capable of understanding him, that it is not even possible to wish for anything better (as much in general as for ourselves) than what he does. It is as if one said to men: Do your duty and be content with that which shall come of it, not only because you cannot resist divine providence, or the nature of things (which may suffice for tranquillity, but not for contentment), but also because you have to do with a good master. And that is what may be called _Fatum Christianum_. Nevertheless it happens that most men, and even Christians, introduce into their dealings some mixture of fate after the Turkish fashion, although they do not sufficiently acknowledge it. It is true that they are not inactive or negligent when obvious perils or great and manifest hopes present themselves; for they will not fail to abandon a house that is about to fall and to turn aside from a precipice they see in their path; and they will burrow in the earth to dig up a treasure half uncovered, without waiting for fate to finish dislodging it. But when the good or the evil is remote and uncertain and the remedy painful or little to our taste, the lazy reason seems to us to be valid. For example, when it is a question of preserving one's health and even one's life by good diet, people to whom one gives advice thereupon very often answer that our days are numbered and that it avails nothing to try to struggle against that which God destines for us. But these same persons run to even the most absurd remedies when the evil they had neglected draws near. One reasons in somewhat the same way when the question for consideration is somewhat thorny, as for instance when one asks oneself, _quod vitae sectabor iter_? what profession one must choose; when it is a question of a marriage being arranged, of a war being undertaken, of a battle being fought; for in these cases many will be inclined to evade the difficulty of consideration and abandon themselves to fate or to inclination, as if reason should not be employed except in easy cases. One will then all too often reason in the Turkish fashion (although this way is wrongly termed trusting in providence, a thing that in reality occurs only when one has done one's duty) and one will employ the lazy reason, derived from the idea of inevitable fate, to relieve oneself of the need to reason properly. One will thus overlook the fact that if this [56] argument contrary to the practice of reason were valid, it would always hold good, whether the consideration were easy or not. This laziness is to some extent the source of the superstitious practices of fortune-tellers, which meet with just such credulity as men show towards the philosopher's stone, because they would fain have short cuts to the attainment of happiness without trouble. I do not speak here of those who throw themselves upon fortune because they have been happy before, as if there were something permanent therein. Their argument from the past to the future has just as slight a foundation as the principles of astrology and of other kinds of divination. They overlook the fact that there is usually an ebb and flow in fortune, _una marea_, as Italians playing basset are wont to call it. With regard to this they make their own particular observations, which I would, nevertheless, counsel none to trust too much. Yet this confidence that people have in their fortune serves often to give courage to men, and above all to soldiers, and causes them to have indeed that good fortune they ascribe to themselves. Even so do predictions often cause that to happen which has been foretold, as it is supposed that the opinion the Mahometans hold on fate makes them resolute. Thus even errors have their use at times, but generally as providing a remedy for other errors: and truth is unquestionably better. But it is taking an unfair advantage of this alleged necessity of fate to employ it in excuse for our vices and our libertinism. I have often heard it said by smart young persons, who wished to play the freethinker, that it is useless to preach virtue, to censure vice, to create hopes of reward and fears of punishment, since it may be said of the book of destiny, that what is written is written, and that our behaviour can change nothing therein. Thus, they would say, it were best to follow one's inclination, dwelling only upon such things as may content us in the present. They did not reflect upon the strange consequences of this argument, which would prove too much, since it would prove (for instance) that one should take a pleasant beverage even though one knows it is poisoned. For the same reason (if it were valid) I could say: if it is written in the records of the Parcae that poison will kill me now or will do me harm, this will happen even though I were not to take this beverage; and if this is not written, it will not happen even though I should take this same beverage; consequently I shall be able to follow with impunity my inclination to [57] take what is pleasing, however injurious it may be; the result of which reasoning is an obvious absurdity. This objection disconcerted them a little, but they always reverted to their argument, phrased in different ways, until they were brought to understand where the fault of the sophism lies. It is untrue that the event happens whatever one may do: it will happen because one does what leads thereto; and if the event is written beforehand, the cause that will make it happen is written also. Thus the connexion of effects and causes, so far from establishing the doctrine of a necessity detrimental to conduct, serves to overthrow it. Yet, without having evil intentions inclined towards libertinism, one may envisage differently the strange consequences of an inevitable necessity, considering that it would destroy the freedom of the will, so essential to the morality of action: for justice and injustice, praise and blame, punishment and reward cannot attach to necessary actions, and nobody will be under obligation to do the impossible or to abstain from doing what is absolutely necessary. Without any intention of abusing this consideration in order to favour irregularity, one will nevertheless not escape embarrassment sometimes, when it comes to a question of judging the actions of others, or rather of answering objections, amongst which there are some even concerned with the actions of God, whereof I will speak presently. And as an insuperable necessity would open the door to impiety, whether through the impunity one could thence infer or the hopelessness of any attempt to resist a torrent that sweeps everything along with it, it is important to note the different degrees of necessity, and to show that there are some which cannot do harm, as there are others which cannot be admitted without giving rise to evil consequences. Some go even further: not content with using the pretext of necessity to prove that virtue and vice do neither good nor ill, they have the hardihood to make the Divinity accessary to their licentious way of life, and they imitate the pagans of old, who ascribed to the gods the cause of their crimes, as if a divinity drove them to do evil. The philosophy of Christians, which recognizes better than that of the ancients the dependence of things upon the first Author and his co-operation with all the actions of creatures, appears to have increased this difficulty. Some able men in our own time have gone so far as to deny all action to [58] creatures, and M. Bayle, who tended a little towards this extraordinary opinion, made use of it to restore the lapsed dogma of the two principles, or two gods, the one good, the other evil, as if this dogma were a better solution to the difficulties over the origin of evil. Yet again he acknowledges that it is an indefensible opinion and that the oneness of the Principle is incontestably founded on _a priori_ reasons; but he wishes to infer that our Reason is confounded and cannot meet her own objections, and that one should disregard them and hold fast the revealed dogmas, which teach us the existence of one God altogether good, altogether powerful and altogether wise. But many readers, convinced of the irrefutable nature of his objections and believing them to be at least as strong as the proofs for the truth of religion, would draw dangerous conclusions. Even though there were no co-operation by God in evil actions, one could not help finding difficulty in the fact that he foresees them and that, being able to prevent them through his omnipotence, he yet permits them. This is why some philosophers and even some theologians have rather chosen to deny to God any knowledge of the detail of things and, above all, of future events, than to admit what they believed repellent to his goodness. The Socinians and Conrad Vorstius lean towards that side; and Thomas Bonartes, an English Jesuit disguised under a pseudonym but exceedingly learned, who wrote a book _De Concordia Scientiae cum Fide_, of which I will speak later, appears to hint at this also. They are doubtless much mistaken; but others are not less so who, convinced that nothing comes to pass save by the will and the power of God, ascribe to him intentions and actions so unworthy of the greatest and the best of all beings that one would say these authors have indeed renounced the dogma which recognizes God's justice and goodness. They thought that, being supreme Master of the universe, he could without any detriment to his holiness cause sins to be committed, simply at his will and pleasure, or in order that he might have the pleasure of punishing; and even that he could take pleasure in eternally afflicting innocent people without doing any injustice, because no one has the right or the power to control his actions. Some even have gone so far as to say that God acts thus indeed; and on the plea that we are as nothing in comparison with him, they liken us to earthworms which men crush without heeding as they walk, or in general to animals that are not of our species and which we do not [59] scruple to ill-treat. I believe that many persons otherwise of good intentions are misled by these ideas, because they have not sufficient knowledge of their consequences. They do not see that, properly speaking, God's justice is thus overthrown. For what idea shall we form of such a justice as has only will for its rule, that is to say, where the will is not guided by the rules of good and even tends directly towards evil? Unless it be the idea contained in that tyrannical definition by Thrasymachus in Plato, which designated as _just_ that which pleases the stronger. Such indeed is the position taken up, albeit unwittingly, by those who rest all obligation upon constraint, and in consequence take power as the gauge of right. But one will soon abandon maxims so strange and so unfit to make men good and charitable through the imitation of God. For one will reflect that a God who would take pleasure in the misfortune of others cannot be distinguished from the evil principle of the Manichaeans, assuming that this principle had become sole master of the universe; and that in consequence one must attribute to the true God sentiments that render him worthy to be called the good Principle. Happily these extravagant dogmas scarce obtain any longer among theologians. Nevertheless some astute persons, who are pleased to make difficulties, revive them: they seek to increase our perplexity by uniting the controversies aroused by Christian theology to the disputes of philosophy. Philosophers have considered the questions of necessity, of freedom and of the origin of evil; theologians have added thereto those of original sin, of grace and of predestination. The original corruption of the human race, coming from the first sin, appears to us to have imposed a natural necessity to sin without the succour of divine grace: but necessity being incompatible with punishment, it will be inferred that a sufficient grace ought to have been given to all men; which does not seem to be in conformity with experience. But the difficulty is great, above all, in relation to God's dispositions for the salvation of men. There are few saved or chosen; therefore the choice of many is not God's decreed will. And since it is admitted that those whom he has chosen deserve it no more than the rest, and are not even fundamentally less evil, the goodness which they have coming only from the gift of God, the difficulty is increased. Where is, then, his justice [60] (people will say), or at the least, where is his goodness? Partiality, or respect of persons, goes against justice, and he who without cause sets bounds to his goodness cannot have it in sufficient measure. It is true that those who are not chosen are lost by their own fault: they lack good will or living faith; but it rested with God alone to grant it them. We know that besides inward grace there are usually outward circumstances which distinguish men, and that training, conversation, example often correct or corrupt natural disposition. Now that God should call forth circumstances favourable to some and abandon others to experiences which contribute to their misfortune, will not that give us cause for astonishment? And it is not enough (so it seems) to say with some that inward grace is universal and equal for all. For these same authors are obliged to resort to the exclamations of St. Paul, and to say: 'O the depth!' when they consider how men are distinguished by what we may call outward graces, that is, by graces appearing in the diversity of circumstances which God calls forth, whereof men are not the masters, and which have nevertheless so great an influence upon all that concerns their salvation. Nor will it help us to say with St. Augustine that, all men being involved in the damnation caused by the sin of Adam, God might have left them all in their misery; and that thus his goodness alone induces him to deliver some of them. For not only is it strange that the sin of another should condemn anyone, but there still remains the question why God does not deliver all--why he delivers the lesser number and why some in preference to others. He is in truth their master, but he is a good and just master; his power is absolute, but his wisdom permits not that he exercise that power in an arbitrary and despotic way, which would be tyrannous indeed. Moreover, the fall of the first man having happened only with God's permission, and God having resolved to permit it only when once he had considered its consequences, which are the corruption of the mass of the human race and the choice of a small number of elect, with the abandonment of all the rest, it is useless to conceal the difficulty by limiting one's view to the mass already corrupt. One must, in spite of oneself, go back to the knowledge of the consequences of the first sin, preceding the decree whereby God permitted it, and whereby he permitted simultaneously that [61] the damned should be involved in the mass of perdition and should not be delivered: for God and the sage make no resolve without considering its consequences. I hope to remove all these difficulties. I will point out that absolute necessity, which is called also logical and metaphysical and sometimes geometrical, and which would alone be formidable in this connexion, does not exist in free actions, and that thus freedom is exempt not only from constraint but also from real necessity. I will show that God himself, although he always chooses the best, does not act by an absolute necessity, and that the laws of nature laid down by God, founded upon the fitness of things, keep the mean between geometrical truths, absolutely necessary, and arbitrary decrees; which M. Bayle and other modern philosophers have not sufficiently understood. Further I will show that there is an indifference in freedom, because there is no absolute necessity for one course or the other; but yet that there is never an indifference of perfect equipoise. And I will demonstrate that there is in free actions a perfect spontaneity beyond all that has been conceived hitherto. Finally I will make it plain that the hypothetical and the moral necessity which subsist in free actions are open to no objection, and that the 'Lazy Reason' is a pure sophism. Likewise concerning the origin of evil in its relation to God, I offer a vindication of his perfections that shall extol not less his holiness, his justice and his goodness than his greatness, his power and his independence. I show how it is possible for everything to depend upon God, for him to co-operate in all the actions of creatures, even, if you will, to create these creatures continually, and nevertheless not to be the author of sin. Here also it is demonstrated how the privative nature of evil should be understood. Much more than that, I explain how evil has a source other than the will of God, and that one is right therefore to say of moral evil that God wills it not, but simply permits it. Most important of all, however, I show that it has been possible for God to permit sin and misery, and even to co-operate therein and promote it, without detriment to his holiness and his supreme goodness: although, generally speaking, he could have avoided all these evils. Concerning grace and predestination, I justify the most debatable assertions, as for instance: that we are converted only through the [62] prevenient grace of God and that we cannot do good except with his aid; that God wills the salvation of all men and that he condemns only those whose will is evil; that he gives to all a sufficient grace provided they wish to use it; that, Jesus Christ being the source and the centre of election, God destined the elect for salvation, because he foresaw that they would cling with a lively faith to the doctrine of Jesus Christ. Yet it is true that this reason for election is not the final reason, and that this very pre-vision is still a consequence of God's anterior decree. Faith likewise is a gift of God, who has predestinated the faith of the elect, for reasons lying in a superior decree which dispenses grace and circumstance in accordance with God's supreme wisdom. Now, as one of the most gifted men of our time, whose eloquence was as great as his acumen and who gave great proofs of his vast erudition, had applied himself with a strange predilection to call attention to all the difficulties on this subject which I have just touched in general, I found a fine field for exercise in considering the question with him in detail. I acknowledge that M. Bayle (for it is easy to see that I speak of him) has on his side all the advantages except that of the root of the matter, but I hope that truth (which he acknowledges himself to be on our side) by its very plainness, and provided it be fittingly set forth, will prevail over all the ornaments of eloquence and erudition. My hope for success therein is all the greater because it is the cause of God I plead, and because one of the maxims here upheld states that God's help is never lacking for those that lack not good will. The author of this discourse believes that he has given proof of this good will in the attention he has brought to bear upon this subject. He has meditated upon it since his youth; he has conferred with some of the foremost men of the time; and he has schooled himself by the reading of good authors. And the success which God has given him (according to the opinion of sundry competent judges) in certain other profound meditations, of which some have much influence on this subject, gives him peradventure some right to claim the attention of readers who love truth and are fitted to search after it. The author had, moreover, particular and weighty reasons inducing him to take pen in hand for discussion of this subject. Conversations which he had concerning the same with literary and court personages, in Germany and in France, and especially with one of the greatest and most accomplished [63] of princesses, have repeatedly prompted him to this course. He had had the honour of expressing his opinions to this Princess upon divers passages of the admirable _Dictionary_ of M. Bayle, wherein religion and reason appear as adversaries, and where M. Bayle wishes to silence reason after having made it speak too loud: which he calls the triumph of faith. The present author declared there and then that he was of a different opinion, but that he was nevertheless well pleased that a man of such great genius had brought about an occasion for going deeply into these subjects, subjects as important as they are difficult. He admitted having examined them also for some long time already, and having sometimes been minded to publish upon this matter some reflexions whose chief aim should be such knowledge of God as is needed to awaken piety and to foster virtue. This Princess exhorted and urged him to carry out his long-cherished intention, and some friends added their persuasions. He was all the more tempted to accede to their requests since he had reason to hope that in the sequel to his investigation M. Bayle's genius would greatly aid him to give the subject such illumination as it might receive with his support. But divers obstacles intervened, and the death of the incomparable Queen was not the least. It happened, however, that M. Bayle was attacked by excellent men who set themselves to examine the same subject; he answered them fully and always ingeniously. I followed their dispute, and was even on the point of being involved therein. This is how it came about. I had published a new system, which seemed well adapted to explain the union of the soul and the body: it met with considerable applause even from those who were not in agreement with it, and certain competent persons testified that they had already been of my opinion, without having reached so distinct an explanation, before they saw what I had written on the matter. M. Bayle examined it in his _Historical and Critical Dictionary_, article 'Rorarius'. He thought that my expositions were worthy of further development; he drew attention to their usefulness in various connexions, and he laid stress upon what might still cause difficulty. I could not but reply in a suitable way to expressions so civil and to reflexions so instructive as his. In order to turn them to greater account, I published some elucidations in the _Histoire des Ouvrages des Savants_, July 1698. M. Bayle replied to them in the second edition of his _Dictionary_. I sent[64] him a rejoinder which has not yet been published; I know not whether he ever made a further reply. Meanwhile it happened that M. le Clerc had inserted in his _Select Library_ an extract from the _Intellectual System_ of the late Mr. Cudworth, and had explained therein certain 'plastic natures' which this admirable author applied to the formation of animals. M. Bayle believed (see the continuation of _Divers Thoughts on the Comet_, ch. 21, art. 11) that, these natures being without cognition, in establishing them one weakened the argument which proves, through the marvellous formation of things, that the universe must have an intelligent Cause. M. le Clerc replied (4th art. of the 5th vol. of his _Select Library_) that these natures required to be directed by divine wisdom. M. Bayle insisted (7th article of the _Histoire des Ouvrages des Savants_, August 1704) that direction alone was not sufficient for a cause devoid of cognition, unless one took the cause to be a mere instrument of God, in which case direction would be needless. My system was touched upon in passing; and that gave me an opportunity to send a short essay to the illustrious author of the _Histoire des Ouvrages des Savants_, which he inserted in the month of May 1705, art. 9. In this I endeavoured to make clear that in reality mechanism is sufficient to produce the organic bodies of animals, without any need of other plastic natures, provided there be added thereto the _preformation_ already completely organic in the seeds of the bodies that come into existence, contained in those of the bodies whence they spring, right back to the primary seeds. This could only proceed from the Author of things, infinitely powerful and infinitely wise, who, creating all in the beginning in due order, had _pre-established_ there all order and artifice that was to be. There is no chaos in the inward nature of things, and there is organism everywhere in a matter whose disposition proceeds from God. More and more of it would come to light if we pressed closer our examination of the anatomy of bodies; and we should continue to observe it even if we could go on to infinity, like Nature, and make subdivision as continuous in our knowledge as Nature has made it in fact. In order to explain this marvel of the formation of animals, I made use of a Pre-established Harmony, that is to say, of the same means I had used to explain another marvel, namely the correspondence of soul with body, [65] wherein I proved the uniformity and the fecundity of the principles I had employed. It seems that this reminded M. Bayle of my system of accounting for this correspondence, which he had examined formerly. He declared (in chapter 180 of his _Reply to the Questions of a Provincial_, vol. III, p. 1253) that he did not believe God could give to matter or to any other cause the faculty of becoming organic without communicating to it the idea and the knowledge of organic nature. Also he was not yet disposed to believe that God, with all his power over Nature and with all the foreknowledge which he has of the contingencies that may arrive, could have so disposed things that by the laws of mechanics alone a vessel (for instance) should go to its port of destination without being steered during its passage by some intelligent guide. I was surprised to see that limits were placed on the power of God, without the adduction of any proof and without indication that there was any contradiction to be feared on the side of the object or any imperfection on God's side. Whereas I had shown before in my Rejoinder that even men often produce through automata something like the movements that come from reason, and that even a finite mind (but one far above ours) could accomplish what M. Bayle thinks impossible to the Divinity. Moreover, as God orders all things at once beforehand, the accuracy of the path of this vessel would be no more strange than that of a fuse passing along a cord in fireworks, since the whole disposition of things preserves a perfect harmony between them by means of their influence one upon the other. This declaration of M. Bayle pledged me to an answer. I therefore purposed to point out to him, that unless it be said that God forms organic bodies himself by a perpetual miracle, or that he has entrusted this care to intelligences whose power and knowledge are almost divine, we must hold the opinion that God _preformed_ things in such sort that new organisms are only a mechanical consequence of a preceding organic constitution. Even so do butterflies come out of silkworms, an instance where M. Swammerdam has shown that there is nothing but development. And I would have added that nothing is better qualified than the preformation of plants and of animals to confirm my System of Pre-established Harmony between the soul and the body. For in this the body is prompted by its original constitution to carry out with the help of external things all that it does in accordance with the will of the soul. So the seeds by their original constitution [66] carry out naturally the intentions of God, by an artifice greater still than that which causes our body to perform everything in conformity with our will. And since M. Bayle himself deems with reason that there is more artifice in the organism of animals than in the most beautiful poem in the world or in the most admirable invention whereof the human mind is capable, it follows that my system of the connexion between the body and the soul is as intelligible as the general opinion on the formation of animals. For this opinion (which appears to me true) states in effect that the wisdom of God has so made Nature that it is competent in virtue of its laws to form animals; I explain this opinion and throw more light upon the possibility of it through the system of preformation. Whereafter there will be no cause for surprise that God has so made the body that by virtue of its own laws it can carry out the intentions of the reasoning soul: for all that the reasoning soul can demand of the body is less difficult than the organization which God has demanded of the seeds. M. Bayle says (_Reply to the Questions of a Provincial_, ch. 182, p. 1294) that it is only very recently there have been people who have understood that the formation of living bodies cannot be a natural process. This he could say also (in accordance with his principles) of the communication between the soul and the body, since God effects this whole communication in the system of occasional causes to which this author subscribes. But I admit the supernatural here only in the beginning of things, in respect of the first formation of animals or in respect of the original constitution of pre-established harmony between the soul and the body. Once that has come to pass, I hold that the formation of animals and the relation between the soul and the body are something as natural now as the other most ordinary operations of Nature. A close parallel is afforded by people's ordinary thinking about the instinct and the marvellous behaviour of brutes. One recognizes reason there not in the brutes but in him who created them. I am, then, of the general opinion in this respect; but I hope that my explanation will have added clearness and lucidity, and even a more ample range, to that opinion. Now when preparing to justify my system in face of the new difficulties of M. Bayle, I purposed at the same time to communicate to him the ideas which I had had for some time already, on the difficulties put forward by him[67] in opposition to those who endeavour to reconcile reason with faith in regard to the existence of evil. Indeed, there are perhaps few persons who have toiled more than I in this matter. Hardly had I gained some tolerable understanding of Latin writings when I had an opportunity of turning over books in a library. I flitted from book to book, and since subjects for meditation pleased me as much as histories and fables, I was charmed by the work of Laurentius Valla against Boethius and by that of Luther against Erasmus, although I was well aware that they had need of some mitigation. I did not omit books of controversy, and amongst other writings of this nature the records of the Montbéliard Conversation, which had revived the dispute, appeared to me instructive. Nor did I neglect the teachings of our theologians: and the study of their opponents, far from disturbing me, served to strengthen me in the moderate opinions of the Churches of the Augsburg Confession. I had opportunity on my journeys to confer with some excellent men of different parties, for instance with Bishop Peter von Wallenburg, Suffragan of Mainz, with Herr Johann Ludwig Fabricius, premier theologian of Heidelberg, and finally with the celebrated M. Arnauld. To him I even tendered a Latin Dialogue of my own composition upon this subject, about the year 1673, wherein already I laid it down that God, having chosen the most perfect of all possible worlds, had been prompted by his wisdom to permit the evil which was bound up with it, but which still did not prevent this world from being, all things considered, the best that could be chosen. I have also since read many and various good authors on these subjects, and I have endeavoured to make progress in the knowledge that seems to me proper for banishing all that could have obscured the idea of supreme perfection which must be acknowledged in God. I have not neglected to examine the most rigorous authors, who have extended furthest the doctrine of the necessity of things, as for instance Hobbes and Spinoza, of whom the former advocated this absolute necessity not only in his _Physical Elements_ and elsewhere, but also in a special book against Bishop Bramhall. And Spinoza insists more or less (like an ancient Peripatetic philosopher named Strato) that all has come from the first cause or from primitive Nature by a blind and geometrical necessity, with complete absence of capacity for choice, for goodness and for understanding in this first source of things. [68] I have found the means, so it seems to me, of demonstrating the contrary in a way that gives one a clear insight into the inward essence of the matter. For having made new discoveries on the nature of active force and the laws of motion, I have shown that they have no geometrical necessity, as Spinoza appears to have believed they had. Neither, as I have made plain, are they purely arbitrary, even though this be the opinion of M. Bayle and of some modern philosophers: but they are dependent upon the fitness of things as I have already pointed out above, or upon that which I call the 'principle of the best'. Moreover one recognizes therein, as in every other thing, the marks of the first substance, whose productions bear the stamp of a supreme wisdom and make the most perfect of harmonies. I have shown also that this harmony connects both the future with the past and the present with the absent. The first kind of connexion unites times, and the other places. This second connexion is displayed in the union of the soul with the body, and in general in the communication of true substances with one another and with material phenomena. But the first takes place in the preformation of organic bodies, or rather of all bodies, since there is organism everywhere, although all masses do not compose organic bodies. So a pond may very well be full of fish or of other organic bodies, although it is not itself an animal or organic body, but only a mass that contains them. Thus I had endeavoured to build upon such foundations, established in a conclusive manner, a complete body of the main articles of knowledge that reason pure and simple can impart to us, a body whereof all the parts were properly connected and capable of meeting the most important difficulties of the ancients and the moderns. I had also in consequence formed for myself a certain system concerning the freedom of man and the cooperation of God. This system appeared to me to be such as would in no wise offend reason and faith; and I desired to submit it to the scrutiny of M. Bayle, as well as of those who are in controversy with him. Now he has departed from us, and such a loss is no small one, a writer whose learning and acumen few have equalled. But since the subject is under consideration and men of talent are still occupied with it, while the public also follows it attentively, I take this to be a fitting moment for the publication of certain of my ideas. It will perhaps be well to add the observation, before finishing this preface, that in denying the physical influence of the soul upon the [69] body or of the body upon the soul, that is, an influence causing the one to disturb the laws of the other, I by no means deny the union of the one with the other which forms of them a suppositum; but this union is something metaphysical, which changes nothing in the phenomena. This is what I have already said in reply to the objection raised against me, in the _Mémoires de Trévoux_, by the Reverend Father de Tournemine, whose wit and learning are of no ordinary mould. And for this reason one may say also in a metaphysical sense that the soul acts upon the body and the body upon the soul. Moreover, it is true that the soul is the Entelechy or the active principle, whereas the corporeal alone or the mere material contains only the passive. Consequently the principle of action is in the soul, as I have explained more than once in the _Leipzig Journal_. More especially does this appear in my answer to the late Herr Sturm, philosopher and mathematician of Altorf, where I have even demonstrated that, if bodies contained only the passive, their different conditions would be indistinguishable. Also I take this opportunity to say that, having heard of some objections made by the gifted author of the book on _Self-knowledge_, in that same book, to my System of Pre-established Harmony, I sent a reply to Paris, showing that he has attributed to me opinions I am far from holding. On another matter recently I met with like treatment at the hands of an anonymous Doctor of the Sorbonne. And these misconceptions would have become plain to the reader at the outset if my own words, which were being taken in evidence, had been quoted. This tendency of men to make mistakes in presenting the opinions of others leads me to observe also, that when I said somewhere that man helps himself in conversion through the succour of grace, I mean only that he derives advantage from it through the cessation of the resistance overcome, but without any cooperation on his part: just as there is no co-operation in ice when it is broken. For conversion is purely the work of God's grace, wherein man co-operates only by resisting it; but human resistance is more or less great according to the persons and the occasions. Circumstances also contribute more or less to our attention and to the motions that arise in the soul; and the co-operation of all these things, together with the strength of the impression and the condition of the will, determines the operation of grace, although not rendering it necessary. I have expounded sufficiently elsewhere that in relation to matters of salvation [70] unregenerate man is to be considered as dead; and I greatly approve the manner wherein the theologians of the Augsburg Confession declare themselves on this subject. Yet this corruption of unregenerate man is, it must be added, no hindrance to his possession of true moral virtues and his performance of good actions in his civic life, actions which spring from a good principle, without any evil intention and without mixture of actual sin. Wherein I hope I shall be forgiven, if I have dared to diverge from the opinion of St. Augustine: he was doubtless a great man, of admirable intelligence, but inclined sometimes, as it seems, to exaggerate things, above all in the heat of his controversies. I greatly esteem some persons who profess to be disciples of St. Augustine, amongst others the Reverend Father Quênel, a worthy successor of the great Arnauld in the pursuit of controversies that have embroiled them with the most famous of Societies. But I have found that usually in disputes between people of conspicuous merit (of whom there are doubtless some here in both parties) there is right on both sides, although in different points, and it is rather in the matter of defence than attack, although the natural malevolence of the human heart generally renders attack more agreeable to the reader than defence. I hope that the Reverend Father Ptolemei, who does his Society credit and is occupied in filling the gaps left by the famous Bellarmine, will give us, concerning all of that, some explanations worthy of his acumen and his knowledge, and I even dare to add, his moderation. And one must believe that among the theologians of the Augsburg Confession there will arise some new Chemnitz or some new Callixtus; even as one is justified in thinking that men like Usserius or Daillé will again appear among the Reformed, and that all will work more and more to remove the misconceptions wherewith this matter is charged. For the rest I shall be well pleased that those who shall wish to examine it closely read the objections with the answers I have given thereto, formulated in the small treatise I have placed at the end of the work by way of summary. I have endeavoured to forestall some new objections. I have explained, for instance, why I have taken the antecedent and consequent will as preliminary and final, after the example of Thomas, of Scotus and others; how it is possible that there be incomparably more good in the glory of all the saved than there is evil in the misery of all the damned, despite [71] that there are more of the latter; how, in saying that evil has been permitted as a _conditio sine qua non_ of good, I mean not according to the principle of necessity, but according to the principle of the fitness of things. Furthermore I show that the predetermination I admit is such as always to predispose, but never to necessitate, and that God will not refuse the requisite new light to those who have made a good use of that which they had. Other elucidations besides I have endeavoured to give on some difficulties which have been put before me of late. I have, moreover, followed the advice of some friends who thought it fitting that I should add two appendices: the one treats of the controversy carried on between Mr. Hobbes and Bishop Bramhall touching Freedom and Necessity, the other of the learned work on _The Origin of Evil_, published a short time ago in England. Finally I have endeavoured in all things to consider edification: and if I have conceded something to curiosity, it is because I thought it necessary to relieve a subject whose seriousness may cause discouragement. It is with that in view that I have introduced into this dissertation the pleasing chimera of a certain astronomical theology, having no ground for apprehension that it will ensnare anyone and deeming that to tell it and refute it is the same thing. Fiction for fiction, instead of imagining that the planets were suns, one might conceive that they were masses melted in the sun and thrown out, and that would destroy the foundation of this hypothetical theology. The ancient error of the two principles, which the Orientals distinguished by the names Oromasdes and Arimanius, caused me to explain a conjecture on the primitive history of peoples. It appears indeed probable that these were the names of two great contemporary princes, the one monarch of a part of upper Asia, where there have since been others of this name, the other king of the Scythian Celts who made incursions into the states of the former, and who was also named amongst the divinities of Germania. It seems, indeed, that Zoroaster used the names of these princes as symbols of the invisible powers which their exploits made them resemble in the ideas of Asiatics. Yet elsewhere, according to the accounts of Arab authors, who in this might well be better informed than the Greeks, it appears from detailed records of ancient oriental history, that this Zerdust or Zoroaster, whom they make contemporary with the great Darius, did not look upon these two principles as completely primitive and [72] independent, but as dependent upon one supreme and single principle. They relate that he believed, in conformity with the cosmogony of Moses, that God, who is without an equal, created all and separated the light from the darkness; that the light conformed with his original design, but that the darkness came as a consequence, even as the shadow follows the body, and that this is nothing but privation. Such a thesis would clear this ancient author of the errors the Greeks imputed to him. His great learning caused the Orientals to compare him with the Mercury or Hermes of the Egyptians and Greeks; just as the northern peoples compared their Wodan or Odin to this same Mercury. That is why Mercredi (Wednesday), or the day of Mercury, was called Wodansdag by the northern peoples, but day of Zerdust by the Asiatics, since it is named Zarschamba or Dsearschambe by the Turks and the Persians, Zerda by the Hungarians from the north-east, and Sreda by the Slavs from the heart of Great Russia, as far as the Wends of the Luneburg region, the Slavs having learnt the name also from the Orientals. These observations will perhaps not be displeasing to the curious. And I flatter myself that the small dialogue ending the Essays written to oppose M. Bayle will give some satisfaction to those who are well pleased to see difficult but important truths set forth in an easy and familiar way. I have written in a foreign language at the risk of making many errors in it, because that language has been recently used by others in treating of my subject, and because it is more generally read by those whom one would wish to benefit by this small work. It is to be hoped that the language errors will be pardoned: they are to be attributed not only to the printer and the copyist, but also to the haste of the author, who has been much distracted from his task. If, moreover, any error has crept into the ideas expressed, the author will be the first to correct it, once he has been better informed: he has given elsewhere such indications of his love of truth that he hopes this declaration will not be regarded as merely an empty phrase. [73] * * * * * PRELIMINARY DISSERTATION ON THE CONFORMITY OF FAITH WITH REASON * * * * * 1. I begin with the preliminary question of the _conformity of faith with reason_, and the use of philosophy in theology, because it has much influence on the main subject of my treatise, and because M. Bayle introduces it everywhere. I assume that two truths cannot contradict each other; that the object of faith is the truth God has revealed in an extraordinary way; and that reason is the linking together of truths, but especially (when it is compared with faith) of those whereto the human mind can attain naturally without being aided by the light of faith. This definition of reason (that is to say of strict and true reason) has surprised some persons accustomed to inveigh against reason taken in a vague sense. They gave me the answer that they had never heard of any such explanation of it: the truth is that they have never conferred with people who expressed themselves clearly on these subjects. They have confessed to me, nevertheless, that one could not find fault with reason, understood in the sense which I gave to it. It is in the same sense that sometimes reason is contrasted with experience. Reason, since it consists in the linking together of truths, is entitled to connect also those wherewith experience has furnished it, in order thence to draw mixed conclusions; but reason pure and simple, as distinct from experience, only has to do with truths independent of the senses. And one may compare faith with experience, since faith (in respect of the motives that give it justification) depends [74] upon the experience of those who have seen the miracles whereon revelation is founded, and upon the trustworthy tradition which has handed them down to us, whether through the Scriptures or by the account of those who have preserved them. It is rather as we rely upon the experience of those who have seen China and on the credibility of their account when we give credence to the wonders that are told us of that distant country. Yet I would also take into account the inward motion of the Holy Spirit, who takes possession of souls and persuades them and prompts them to good, that is, to faith and to charity, without always having need of motives. 2. Now the truths of reason are of two kinds: the one kind is of those called the 'Eternal Verities', which are altogether necessary, so that the opposite implies contradiction. Such are the truths whose necessity is logical, metaphysical or geometrical, which one cannot deny without being led into absurdities. There are others which may be called _positive_, because they are the laws which it has pleased God to give to Nature, or because they depend upon those. We learn them either by experience, that is, _a posteriori_, or by reason and _a priori_, that is, by considerations of the fitness of things which have caused their choice. This fitness of things has also its rules and reasons, but it is the free choice of God, and not a geometrical necessity, which causes preference for what is fitting and brings it into existence. Thus one may say that physical necessity is founded on moral necessity, that is, on the wise one's choice which is worthy of his wisdom; and that both of these ought to be distinguished from geometrical necessity. It is this physical necessity that makes order in Nature and lies in the rules of motion and in some other general laws which it pleased God to lay down for things when he gave them being. It is therefore true that God gave such laws not without reason, for he chooses nothing from caprice and as though by chance or in pure indifference; but the general reasons of good and of order, which have prompted him to the choice, may be overcome in some cases by stronger reasons of a superior order. 3. Thus it is made clear that God can exempt creatures from the laws he has prescribed for them, and produce in them that which their nature does not bear by performing a miracle. When they have risen to perfections and faculties nobler than those whereto they can by their nature attain, the Schoolmen call this faculty an 'Obediential Power', that is to say, a [75] power which the thing acquires by obeying the command of him who can give that which the thing has not. The Schoolmen, however, usually give instances of this power which to me appear impossible: they maintain, for example, that God can give the creature the faculty to create. It may be that there are miracles which God performs through the ministry of angels, where the laws of Nature are not violated, any more than when men assist Nature by art, the skill of angels differing from ours only by degree of perfection. Nevertheless it still remains true that the laws of Nature are subject to be dispensed from by the Law-giver; whereas the eternal verities, as for instance those of geometry, admit no dispensation, and faith cannot contradict them. Thus it is that there cannot be any invincible objection to truth. For if it is a question of proof which is founded upon principles or incontestable facts and formed by a linking together of eternal verities, the conclusion is certain and essential, and that which is contrary to it must be false; otherwise two contradictories might be true at the same time. If the objection is not conclusive, it can only form a probable argument, which has no force against faith, since it is agreed that the Mysteries of religion are contrary to appearances. Now M. Bayle declares, in his posthumous Reply to M. le Clerc, that he does not claim that there are demonstrations contrary to the truths of faith: and as a result all these insuperable difficulties, these so-called wars between reason and faith, vanish away. _Hi motus animorum atque haec discrimina tanta,_ _Pulveris exigui jactu compressa quiescunt._ 4. Protestant theologians as well as those of the Roman confession admit the maxims which I have just laid down, when they handle the matter with attention; and all that is said against reason has no force save against a kind of counterfeit reason, corrupted and deluded by false appearances. It is the same with our notions of the justice and the goodness of God, which are spoken of sometimes as if we had neither any idea nor any definition of their nature. But in that case we should have no ground for ascribing these attributes to him, or lauding him for them. His goodness and his justice as well as his wisdom differ from ours only because they are infinitely more perfect. Thus the simple notions, the necessary truths and the conclusive results of philosophy cannot be contrary to revelation. And when some [76] philosophical maxims are rejected in theology, the reason is that they are considered to have only a physical or moral necessity, which speaks only of that which takes place usually, and is consequently founded on appearances, but which may be withheld if God so pleases. 5. It seems, according to what I have just said, that there is often some confusion in the expressions of those who set at variance philosophy and theology, or faith and reason: they confuse the terms 'explain', 'comprehend', 'prove', 'uphold'. And I find that M. Bayle, shrewd as he is, is not always free from this confusion. Mysteries may be _explained_ sufficiently to justify belief in them; but one cannot _comprehend_ them, nor give understanding of how they come to pass. Thus even in natural philosophy we explain up to a certain point sundry perceptible qualities, but in an imperfect manner, for we do not comprehend them. Nor is it possible for us, either, to prove Mysteries by reason; for all that which can be proved _a priori_, or by pure reason, can be comprehended. All that remains for us then, after having believed in the Mysteries by reason of the proofs of the truth of religion (which are called 'motives of credibility') is to be able to _uphold_ them against objections. Without that our belief in them would have no firm foundation; for all that which can be refuted in a sound and conclusive manner cannot but be false. And such proofs of the truth of religion as can give only a _moral certainty_ would be balanced and even outweighed by such objections as would give an _absolute certainty_, provided they were convincing and altogether conclusive. This little might suffice me to remove the difficulties concerning the use of reason and philosophy in relation to religion if one had not to deal all too often with prejudiced persons. But as the subject is important and it has fallen into a state of confusion, it will be well to take it in greater detail. 6. The question of the _conformity of faith with reason_ has always been a great problem. In the primitive Church the ablest Christian authors adapted themselves to the ideas of the Platonists, which were the most acceptable to them, and were at that time most generally in favour. Little by little Aristotle took the place of Plato, when the taste for systems began to prevail, and when theology itself became more systematic, owing to the decisions of the General Councils, which provided precise and positive formularies. St. Augustine, Boethius and Cassiodorus in the West, and [77] St. John of Damascus in the East contributed most towards reducing theology to scientific form, not to mention Bede, Alcuin, St. Anselm and some other theologians versed in philosophy. Finally came the Schoolmen. The leisure of the cloisters giving full scope for speculation, which was assisted by Aristotle's philosophy translated from the Arabic, there was formed at last a compound of theology and philosophy wherein most of the questions arose from the trouble that was taken to reconcile faith with reason. But this had not met with the full success hoped for, because theology had been much corrupted by the unhappiness of the times, by ignorance and obstinacy. Moreover, philosophy, in addition to its own faults, which were very great, found itself burdened with those of theology, which in its turn was suffering from association with a philosophy that was very obscure and very imperfect. One must confess, notwithstanding, with the incomparable Grotius, that there is sometimes gold hidden under the rubbish of the monks' barbarous Latin. I have therefore oft-times wished that a man of talent, whose office had necessitated his learning the language of the Schoolmen, had chosen to extract thence whatever is of worth, and that another Petau or Thomasius had done in respect of the Schoolmen what these two learned men have done in respect of the Fathers. It would be a very curious work, and very important for ecclesiastical history, and it would continue the History of Dogmas up to the time of the Revival of Letters (owing to which the aspect of things has changed) and even beyond that point. For sundry dogmas, such as those of physical predetermination, of mediate knowledge, philosophical sin, objective precisions, and many other dogmas in speculative theology and even in the practical theology of cases of conscience, came into currency even after the Council of Trent. 7. A little before these changes, and before the great schism in the West that still endures, there was in Italy a sect of philosophers which disputed this conformity of faith with reason which I maintain. They were dubbed 'Averroists' because they were adherents of a famous Arab author, who was called the Commentator by pre-eminence, and who appeared to be the one of all his race that penetrated furthest into Aristotle's meaning. This Commentator, extending what Greek expositors had already taught, maintained that according to Aristotle, and even according to reason (and at that time the two were considered almost identical) there was no case for the [78] immortality of the soul. Here is his reasoning. The human kind is eternal, according to Aristotle, therefore if individual souls die not, one must resort to the metempsychosis rejected by that philosopher. Or, if there are always new souls, one must admit the infinity of these souls existing from all eternity; but actual infinity is impossible, according to the doctrine of the same Aristotle. Therefore it is a necessary conclusion that the souls, that is, the forms of organic bodies, must perish with the bodies, or at least this must happen to the passive understanding that belongs to each one individually. Thus there will only remain the active understanding common to all men, which according to Aristotle comes from outside, and which must work wheresoever the organs are suitably disposed; even as the wind produces a kind of music when it is blown into properly adjusted organ pipes. 8. Nothing could have been weaker than this would-be proof. It is not true that Aristotle refuted metempsychosis, or that he proved the eternity of the human kind; and after all, it is quite untrue that an actual infinity is impossible. Yet this proof passed as irresistible amongst Aristotelians, and induced in them the belief that there was a certain sublunary intelligence and that our active intellect was produced by participation in it. But others who adhered less to Aristotle went so far as to advocate a universal soul forming the ocean of all individual souls, and believed this universal soul alone capable of subsisting, whilst individual souls are born and die. According to this opinion the souls of animals are born by being separated like drops from their ocean, when they find a body which they can animate; and they die by being reunited to the ocean of souls when the body is destroyed, as streams are lost in the sea. Many even went so far as to believe that God is that universal soul, although others thought that this soul was subordinate and created. This bad doctrine is very ancient and apt to dazzle the common herd. It is expressed in these beautiful lines of Vergil (_Aen._, VI, v. 724): _Principio coelum ac terram camposque liquentes,_ _Lucentemque globum Lunae Titaniaque astra,_ _Spiritus intus alit, totamque infusa per artus_ _Mens agitat molem, et magno se corpore miscet._ _Inde hominum pecudumque genus vitaeque volantum._ [79] And again elsewhere (_Georg._, IV, v. 221): _Deum namque ire per omnes_ _Terrasque tractusque maris caelumque profundum:_ _Hinc pecudes, armenta, viros, genus omne ferarum,_ _Quemque sibi tenues nascentem arcessere vitas._ _Scilicet huc reddi deinde ac resoluta referri._ 9. Plato's Soul of the World has been taken in this sense by some, but there is more indication that the Stoics succumbed to that universal soul which swallows all the rest. Those who are of this opinion might be called 'Monopsychites', since according to them there is in reality only one soul that subsists. M. Bernier observes that this is an opinion almost universally accepted amongst scholars in Persia and in the States of the Grand Mogul; it appears even that it has gained a footing with the Cabalists and with the mystics. A certain German of Swabian birth, converted to Judaism some years ago, who taught under the name Moses Germanus, having adopted the dogmas of Spinoza, believed that Spinoza revived the ancient Cabala of the Hebrews. And a learned man who confuted this proselyte Jew appears to be of the same opinion. It is known that Spinoza recognizes only substance in the world, whereof individual souls are but transient modifications. Valentin Weigel, Pastor of Zschopau in Saxony, a man of wit, even of excessive wit, although people would have it that he was a visionary, was perhaps to some extent of that opinion; as was also a man known as Johann Angelus Silesius, author of certain quite pleasing little devotional verses in German, in the form of epigrams, which have just been reprinted. In general, the mystics' doctrine of deification was liable to such a sinister interpretation. Gerson already has written opposing Ruysbroek, a mystical writer, whose intention was evidently good and whose expressions are excusable. But it would be better to write in a manner that has no need of excuses: although I confess that oft-times expressions which are extravagant, and as it were poetical, have greater force to move and to persuade than correct forms of statement. 10. The annihilation of all that belongs to us in our own right, carried to great lengths by the Quietists, might equally well be veiled irreligion in certain minds, as is related, for example, concerning the Quietism of Foë, originator of a great Chinese sect. After having preached his religion [80] for forty years, when he felt death was approaching, he declared to his disciples that he had hidden the truth from them under the veil of metaphors, and that all reduced itself to Nothingness, which he said was the first source of all things. That was still worse, so it would seem, than the opinion of the Averroists. Both of these doctrines are indefensible and even extravagant; nevertheless some moderns have made no difficulty about adopting this one and universal Soul that engulfs the rest. It has met with only too much applause amongst the so-called freethinkers, and M. de Preissac, a soldier and man of wit, who dabbled in philosophy, at one time aired it publicly in his discourses. The System of Pre-established Harmony is the one best qualified to cure this evil. For it shows that there are of necessity substances which are simple and without extension, scattered throughout all Nature; that these substances must subsist independently of every other except God; and that they are never wholly separated from organic body. Those who believe that souls capable of feeling but incapable of reason are mortal, or who maintain that none but reasoning souls can have feeling, offer a handle to the Monopsychites. For it will ever be difficult to persuade men that beasts feel nothing; and once the admission has been made that that which is capable of feeling can die, it is difficult to found upon reason a proof of the immortality of our souls. 11. I have made this short digression because it appeared to me seasonable at a time when there is only too much tendency to overthrow natural religion to its very foundations. I return then to the Averroists, who were persuaded that their dogma was proved conclusively in accordance with reason. As a result they declared that man's soul is, according to philosophy, mortal, while they protested their acquiescence in Christian theology, which declares the soul's immortality. But this distinction was held suspect, and this divorce between faith and reason was vehemently rejected by the prelates and the doctors of that time, and condemned in the last Lateran Council under Leo X. On that occasion also, scholars were urged to work for the removal of the difficulties that appeared to set theology and philosophy at variance. The doctrine of their incompatibility continued to hold its ground _incognito_. Pomponazzi was suspected of it, although he declared himself otherwise; and that very sect of the Averroists survived as a school. It is thought that Caesar Cremoninus, [81] a philosopher famous in his time, was one of its mainstays. Andreas Cisalpinus, a physician (and an author of merit who came nearest after Michael Servetus to the discovery of the circulation of the blood), was accused by Nicolas Taurel (in a book entitled _Alpes Caesae_) of belonging to these anti-religious Peripatetics. Traces of this doctrine are found also in the _Circulus Pisanus Claudii Berigardi_, an author of French nationality who migrated to Italy and taught philosophy at Pisa: but especially the writings and the letters of Gabriel Naudé, as well as the _Naudaeana_, show that Averroism still lived on when this learned physician was in Italy. Corpuscular philosophy, introduced shortly after, appears to have extinguished this excessively Peripatetic sect, or perhaps to have been intermixed with its teaching. It may be indeed that there have been Atomists who would be inclined to teach dogmas like those of the Averroists, if circumstances so permitted: but this abuse cannot harm such good as there is in Corpuscular philosophy, which can very well be combined with all that is sound in Plato and in Aristotle, and bring them both into harmony with true theology. 12. The Reformers, and especially Luther, as I have already observed, spoke sometimes as if they rejected philosophy, and deemed it inimical to faith. But, properly speaking, Luther understood by philosophy only that which is in conformity with the ordinary course of Nature, or perhaps even philosophy as it was taught in the schools. Thus for example he says that it is impossible in philosophy, that is, in the order of Nature, that the word be made flesh; and he goes so far as to maintain that what is true in natural philosophy might be false in ethics. Aristotle was the object of his anger; and so far back as the year 1516 he contemplated the purging of philosophy, when he perhaps had as yet no thoughts of reforming the Church. But at last he curbed his vehemence and in the _Apology for the Augsburg Confession_ allowed a favourable mention of Aristotle and his _Ethics_. Melanchthon, a man of sound and moderate ideas, made little systems from the several parts of philosophy, adapted to the truths of revelation and useful in civic life, which deserve to be read even now. After him, Pierre de la Ramée entered the lists. His philosophy was much in favour: the sect of the Ramists was powerful in Germany, gaining many adherents among the Protestants, and even concerning itself with theology, until the revival of Corpuscular philosophy, which caused that of Ramée to fall into [82] oblivion and weakened the authority of the Peripatetics. 13. Meanwhile sundry Protestant theologians, deviating as far as they could from Scholastic philosophy, which prevailed in the opposite party, went so far as to despise philosophy itself, which to them was suspect. The controversy blazed up finally owing to the rancour of Daniel Hoffmann. He was an able theologian, who had previously gained a reputation at the Conference of Quedlinburg, when Tilemann Heshusius and he had supported Duke Julius of Brunswick in his refusal to accept the Formula of Concord. For some reason or other Dr. Hoffmann flew into a passion with philosophy, instead of being content to find fault with the wrong uses made thereof by philosophers. He was, however, aiming at the famous Caselius, a man esteemed by the princes and scholars of his time; and Henry Julius, Duke of Brunswick (son of Julius, founder of the University), having taken the trouble himself to investigate the matter, condemned the theologian. There have been some small disputes of the kind since, but it has always been found that they were misunderstandings. Paul Slevogt, a famous Professor at Jena in Thuringia, whose still extant treatises prove how well versed he was in Scholastic philosophy, as also in Hebrew literature, had published in his youth under the title of _Pervigilium_ a little book 'de dissidio Theologi et Philosophi in utriusque principiis fundato', bearing on the question whether God is accidentally the cause of sin. But it was easy to see that his aim was to demonstrate that theologians sometimes misuse philosophical terms. 14. To come now to the events of my own time, I remember that when in 1666 Louis Meyer, a physician of Amsterdam, published anonymously the book entitled _Philosophia Scripturae Interpres_ (by many persons wrongly attributed to Spinoza, his friend) the theologians of Holland bestirred themselves, and their written attacks upon this book gave rise to great disputes among them. Divers of them held the opinion that the Cartesians, in confuting the anonymous philosopher, had conceded too much to philosophy. Jean de Labadie (before he had seceded from the Reformed Church, his pretext being some abuses which he said had crept into public observance and which he considered intolerable) attacked the book by Herr von Wollzogen, and called it pernicious. On the other hand Herr Vogelsang, Herr van der Weye and some other anti-Cocceïans also assailed the same [83] book with much acrimony. But the accused won his case in a Synod. Afterwards in Holland people spoke of 'rational' and 'non-rational' theologians, a party distinction often mentioned by M. Bayle, who finally declared himself against the former. But there is no indication that any precise rules have yet been defined which the rival parties accept or reject with regard to the use of reason in the interpretation of Holy Scripture. 15. A like dispute has threatened of late to disturb the peace in the Churches of the Augsburg Confession. Some Masters of Arts in the University of Leipzig gave private lessons at their homes, to students who sought them out in order to learn what is called 'Sacra Philologia', according to the practice of this university and of some others where this kind of study is not restricted to the Faculty of Theology. These masters pressed the study of the Holy Scriptures and the practice of piety further than their fellows had been wont to do. It is alleged that they had carried certain things to excess, and aroused suspicions of certain doctrinal innovations. This caused them to be dubbed 'Pietists', as though they were a new sect; and this name is one which has since caused a great stir in Germany. It has been applied somehow or other to those whom one suspected, or pretended to suspect, of fanaticism, or even of hypocrisy, concealed under some semblance of reform. Now some of the students attending these masters had become conspicuous for behaviour which gave general offence, and amongst other things for their scorn of philosophy, even, so it was said, burning their notebooks. In consequence the belief arose that their masters rejected philosophy: but they justified themselves very well; nor could they be convicted either of this error or of the heresies that were being imputed to them. 16. The question of the use of philosophy in theology was debated much amongst Christians, and difficulty was experienced over settling the limits of its use when it came to detailed consideration. The Mysteries of the Trinity, of the Incarnation and of the Holy Communion gave most occasion for dispute. The new Photinians, disputing the first two Mysteries, made use of certain philosophic maxims which Andreas Kessler, a theologian of the Augsburg Confession, summarized in the various treatises that he published on the parts of the Socinian philosophy. But as to their metaphysics, one might instruct oneself better therein by reading the [84] work of Christopher Stegmann the Socinian. It is not yet in print; but I saw it in my youth and it has been recently again in my hands. 17. Calovius and Scherzer, authors well versed in Scholastic philosophy, and sundry other able theologians answered the Socinians at great length, and often with success: for they would not content themselves with the general and somewhat cavalier answers that were commonly used against that sect. The drift of such answers was: that their maxims were good in philosophy and not in theology; that it was the fault of heterogeneousness called [Greek: metábasis eis állo génos] to apply those maxims to a matter transcending reason; and that philosophy should be treated as a servant and not a mistress in relation to theology, according to the title of the book by a Scot named Robert Baronius, _Philosophia Theologiae ancillans_. In fine, philosophy was a Hagar beside Sara and must be driven from the house with her Ishmael when she was refractory. There is something good in these answers: but one might abuse them, and set natural truths and truths of revelation at variance. Scholars therefore applied themselves to distinguishing between what is necessary and indispensable in natural or philosophic truths and that which is not so. 18. The two Protestant parties are tolerably in agreement when it is a question of making war on the Socinians; and as the philosophy of these sectaries is not of the most exact, in most cases the attack succeeded in reducing it. But the Protestants themselves had dissensions on the matter of the Eucharistic Sacrament. A section of those who are called Reformed (namely those who on that point follow rather Zwingli than Calvin) seemed to reduce the participation in the body of Jesus Christ in the Holy Communion to a mere figurative representation, employing the maxim of the philosophers which states that a body can only be in one place at a time. Contrariwise the Evangelicals (who name themselves thus in a particular sense to distinguish themselves from the Reformed), being more attached to the literal sense of Scripture, opined with Luther that this participation was real, and that here there lay a supernatural Mystery. They reject, in truth, the dogma of Transubstantiation, which they believe to be without foundation in the Text; neither do they approve that of Consubstantiation or of Impanation, which one could only impute to them if one were ill-informed on their opinion. For they admit no inclusion of the body [85] of Jesus Christ in the bread, nor do they even require any union of the one with the other: but they demand at least a concomitance, so that these two substances be received both at the same time. They believe that the ordinary sense of the words of Jesus Christ on an occasion so important as that which concerned the expression of his last wishes ought to be preserved. Thus in order to show that this sense is free from all absurdity which could make it repugnant to us, they maintain that the philosophic maxim restricting the existence of, and partaking in, bodies to one place alone is simply a consequence of the ordinary course of Nature. They make that no obstacle to the presence, in the ordinary sense of the word, of the body of our Saviour in such form as may be in keeping with the most glorified body. They do not resort to a vague diffusion of ubiquity, which would disperse the body and leave it nowhere in particular; nor do they admit the multiple-reduplication theory of some Schoolmen, as if to say one and the same body could be at the same time seated here and standing elsewhere. In fine, they so express themselves that many consider the opinion of Calvin, authorized by sundry confessions of faith from the Churches that have accepted his teaching, to be not so far removed from the Augsburg Confession as one might think: for he affirmed a partaking in the substance. The divergence rests perhaps only upon the fact that Calvin demands true faith in addition to the oral reception of the symbols, and consequently excludes the unworthy. 19. Thence we see that the dogma of real and substantial participation can be supported (without resorting to the strange opinions of some Schoolmen) by a properly understood analogy between _immediate operation_ and _presence_. Many philosophers have deemed that, even in the order of Nature, a body may operate from a distance immediately on many remote bodies at the same time. So do they believe, all the more, that nothing can prevent divine Omnipotence from causing one body to be present in many bodies together, since the transition from immediate operation to presence is but slight, the one perhaps depending upon the other. It is true that modern philosophers for some time now have denied the immediate natural operation of one body upon another remote from it, and I confess that I am of their opinion. Meanwhile remote operation has just been revived in England by the admirable Mr. Newton, who maintains that it is the nature of bodies to be attracted and gravitate one towards another, in proportion[86] to the mass of each one, and the rays of attraction it receives. Accordingly the famous Mr. Locke, in his answer to Bishop Stillingfleet, declares that having seen Mr. Newton's book he retracts what he himself said, following the opinion of the moderns, in his _Essay concerning Human Understanding_, to wit, that a body cannot operate immediately upon another except by touching it upon its surface and driving it by its motion. He acknowledges that God can put properties into matter which cause it to operate from a distance. Thus the theologians of the Augsburg Confession claim that God may ordain not only that a body operate immediately on divers bodies remote from one another, but that it even exist in their neighbourhood and be received by them in a way with which distances of place and dimensions of space have nothing to do. Although this effect transcends the forces of Nature, they do not think it possible to show that it surpasses the power of the Author of Nature. For him it is easy to annul the laws that he has given or to dispense with them as seems good to him, in the same way as he was able to make iron float upon water and to stay the operation of fire upon the human body. 20. I found in comparing the _Rationale Theologicum_ of Nicolaus Vedelius with the refutation by Johann Musaeus that these two authors, of whom one died while a Professor at Franecker after having taught at Geneva and the other finally became the foremost theologian at Jena, are more or less in agreement on the principal rules for the use of reason, but that it is in the application of these rules they disagree. For they both agree that revelation cannot be contrary to the truths whose necessity is called by philosophers 'logical' or 'metaphysical', that is to say, whose opposite implies contradiction. They both admit also that revelation will be able to combat maxims whose necessity is called 'physical' and is founded only upon the laws that the will of God has prescribed for Nature. Thus the question whether the presence of one and the same body in divers places is possible in the supernatural order only touches the application of the rule; and in order to decide this question conclusively by reason, one must needs explain exactly wherein the essence of body consists. Even the Reformed disagree thereon amongst themselves; the Cartesians confine it to extension, but their adversaries oppose that; and I think I have even observed that Gisbertus Voëtius, a famous theologian of Utrecht, [87] doubted the alleged impossibility of plurality of locations. 21. Furthermore, although the two Protestant parties agree that one must distinguish these two necessities which I have just indicated, namely metaphysical necessity and physical necessity, and that the first excludes exceptions even in the case of Mysteries, they are not yet sufficiently agreed upon the rules of interpretation, which serve to determine in what cases it is permitted to desert the letter of Scripture when one is not certain that it is contrary to strictly universal truths. It is agreed that there are cases where one must reject a literal interpretation that is not absolutely impossible, when it is otherwise unsuitable. For instance, all commentators agree that when our Lord said that Herod was a fox he meant it metaphorically; and one must accept that, unless one imagine with some fanatics that for the time the words of our Lord lasted Herod was actually changed into a fox. But it is not the same with the texts on which Mysteries are founded, where the theologians of the Augsburg Confession deem that one must keep to the literal sense. Since, moreover, this discussion belongs to the art of interpretation and not to that which is the proper sphere of logic, we will not here enter thereon, especially as it has nothing in common with the disputes that have arisen recently upon the conformity of faith with reason. 22. Theologians of all parties, I believe (fanatics alone excepted), agree at least that no article of faith must imply contradiction or contravene proofs as exact as those of mathematics, where the opposite of the conclusion can be reduced _ad absurdum_, that is, to contradiction. St. Athanasius with good reason made sport of the preposterous ideas of some writers of his time, who maintained that God had suffered without any suffering. _'Passus est impassibiliter. O ludicram doctrinam aedificantem simul et demolientem!'_ It follows thence that certain writers have been too ready to grant that the Holy Trinity is contrary to that great principle which states that two things which are the same as a third are also the same as each other: that is to say, if A is the same as B, and if C is the same as B, then A and C must also be the same as each other. For this principle is a direct consequence of that of contradiction, and forms the basis of all logic; and if it ceases, we can no longer reason with certainty. Thus when one says that the Father is God, that the Son is God and that the Holy Spirit is God, and that nevertheless there is only [88] one God, although these three Persons differ from one another, one must consider that this word _God_ has not the same sense at the beginning as at the end of this statement. Indeed it signifies now the Divine Substance and now a Person of the Godhead. In general, one must take care never to abandon the necessary and eternal truths for the sake of upholding Mysteries, lest the enemies of religion seize upon such an occasion for decrying both religion and Mysteries. 23. The distinction which is generally drawn between that which is _above_ reason and that which is _against_ reason is tolerably in accord with the distinction which has just been made between the two kinds of necessity. For what is contrary to reason is contrary to the absolutely certain and inevitable truths; and what is above reason is in opposition only to what one is wont to experience or to understand. That is why I am surprised that there are people of intelligence who dispute this distinction, and that M. Bayle should be of this number. The distinction is assuredly very well founded. A truth is above reason when our mind (or even every created mind) cannot comprehend it. Such is, as it seems to me, the Holy Trinity; such are the miracles reserved for God alone, as for instance Creation; such is the choice of the order of the universe, which depends upon universal harmony, and upon the clear knowledge of an infinity of things at once. But a truth can never be contrary to reason, and once a dogma has been disputed and refuted by reason, instead of its being incomprehensible, one may say that nothing is easier to understand, nor more obvious, than its absurdity. For I observed at the beginning that by REASON here I do not mean the opinions and discourses of men, nor even the habit they have formed of judging things according to the usual course of Nature, but rather the inviolable linking together of truths. 24. I must come now to the great question which M. Bayle brought up recently, to wit, whether a truth, and especially a truth of faith, can prove to be subject to irrefutable objections. This excellent author appears to answer with a bold affirmative: he quotes theologians of repute in his party, and even in the Church of Rome, who appear to say the same as he affirms; and he cites philosophers who have believed that there are even philosophical truths whose champions cannot answer the objections that are brought up against them. He believes that the theological doctrine of [89] predestination is of this nature, and in philosophy that of the composition of the _Continuum_. These are, indeed, the two labyrinths which have ever exercised theologians and philosophers. Libertus Fromondus, a theologian of Louvain (a great friend of Jansenius, whose posthumous book entitled _Augustinus_ he in fact published), who also wrote a book entitled explicitly _Labyrinthus de Compositione Continui_, experienced in full measure the difficulties inherent in both doctrines; and the renowned Ochino admirably presented what he calls 'the labyrinths of predestination'. 25. But these writers have not denied the possibility of finding thread in the labyrinth; they have recognized the difficulty, but they have surely not turned difficulty into sheer impossibility. As for me, I confess that I cannot agree with those who maintain that a truth can admit of irrefutable objections: for is an _objection_ anything but an argument whose conclusion contradicts our thesis? And is not an irrefutable argument a _demonstration_? And how can one know the certainty of demonstrations except by examining the argument in detail, the form and the matter, in order to see if the form is good, and then if each premiss is either admitted or proved by another argument of like force, until one is able to make do with admitted premisses alone? Now if there is such an objection against our thesis we must say that the falsity of this thesis is demonstrated, and that it is impossible for us to have reasons sufficient to prove it; otherwise two contradictories would be true at once. One must always yield to proofs, whether they be proposed in positive form or advanced in the shape of objections. And it is wrong and fruitless to try to weaken opponents' proofs, under the pretext that they are only objections, since the opponent can play the same game and can reverse the denominations, exalting his arguments by naming them 'proofs' and sinking ours under the blighting title of 'objections'. 26. It is another question whether we are always obliged to examine the objections we may have to face, and to retain some doubt in respect of our own opinion, or what is called _formido oppositi_, until this examination has been made. I would venture to say no, for otherwise one would never attain to certainty and our conclusion would be always provisional. I believe that able geometricians will scarce be troubled by the objections of Joseph Scaliger against Archimedes, or by those of Mr. Hobbes [90] against Euclid; but that is because they have fully understood and are sure of the proofs. Nevertheless it is sometimes well to show oneself ready to examine certain objections. On the one hand it may serve to rescue people from their error, while on the other we ourselves may profit by it; for specious fallacies often contain some useful solution and bring about the removal of considerable difficulties. That is why I have always liked ingenious objections made against my own opinions, and I have never examined them without profit: witness those which M. Bayle formerly made against my System of Pre-established Harmony, not to mention those which M. Arnauld, M. l'Abbé Foucher and Father Lami, O.S.B., made to me on the same subject. But to return to the principal question, I conclude from reasons I have just set forth that when an objection is put forward against some truth, it is always possible to answer it satisfactorily. 27. It may be also that M. Bayle does not mean 'insoluble objections' in the sense that I have just explained. I observe that he varies, at least in his expressions: for in his posthumous Reply to M. le Clerc he does not admit that one can bring demonstrations against the truths of faith. It appears therefore that he takes the objections to be insoluble only in respect of our present degree of enlightenment; and in this Reply, p. 35, he even does not despair of the possibility that one day a solution hitherto unknown may be found by someone. Concerning that more will be said later. I hold an opinion, however, that will perchance cause surprise, namely that this solution has been discovered entire, and is not even particularly difficult. Indeed a mediocre intelligence capable of sufficient care, and using correctly the rules of common logic, is in a position to answer the most embarrassing objection made against truth, when the objection is only taken from reason, and when it is claimed to be a 'demonstration'. Whatever scorn the generality of moderns have to-day for the logic of Aristotle, one must acknowledge that it teaches infallible ways of resisting error in these conjunctures. For one has only to examine the argument according to the rules and it will always be possible to see whether it is lacking in form or whether there are premisses such as are not yet proved by a good argument. 28. It is quite another matter when there is only a question of _probabilities_, for the art of judging from probable reasons is not yet well established; so that our logic in this connexion is still very [91] imperfect, and to this very day we have little beyond the art of judging from demonstrations. But this art is sufficient here: for when it is a question of opposing reason to an article of our faith, one is not disturbed by objections that only attain probability. Everyone agrees that appearances are against Mysteries, and that they are by no means probable when regarded only from the standpoint of reason; but it suffices that they have in them nothing of absurdity. Thus demonstrations are required if they are to be refuted. 29. And doubtless we are so to understand it when Holy Scripture warns us that the wisdom of God is foolishness before men, and when St. Paul observed that the Gospel of Jesus Christ is foolishness unto the Greeks, as well as unto the Jews a stumbling-block. For, after all, one truth cannot contradict another, and the light of reason is no less a gift of God than that of revelation. Also it is a matter of no difficulty among theologians who are expert in their profession, that the motives of credibility justify, once for all, the authority of Holy Scripture before the tribunal of reason, so that reason in consequence gives way before it, as before a new light, and sacrifices thereto all its probabilities. It is more or less as if a new president sent by the prince must show his letters patent in the assembly where he is afterwards to preside. That is the tendency of sundry good books that we have on the truth of religion, such as those of Augustinus Steuchus, of Du Plessis-Mornay or of Grotius: for the true religion must needs have marks that the false religions have not, else would Zoroaster, Brahma, Somonacodom and Mahomet be as worthy of belief as Moses and Jesus Christ. Nevertheless divine faith itself, when it is kindled in the soul, is something more than an opinion, and depends not upon the occasions or the motives that have given it birth; it advances beyond the intellect, and takes possession of the will and of the heart, to make us act with zeal and joyfully as the law of God commands. Then we have no further need to think of reasons or to pause over the difficulties of argument which the mind may anticipate. 30. Thus what we have just said of human reason, which is extolled and decried by turns, and often without rule or measure, may show our lack of exactitude and how much we are accessary to our own errors. Nothing would be so easy to terminate as these disputes on the rights of faith and of reason if men would make use of the commonest rules of logic and reason[92] with even a modicum of attention. Instead of that, they become involved in oblique and ambiguous phrases, which give them a fine field for declamation, to make the most of their wit and their learning. It would seem, indeed, that they have no wish to see the naked truth, peradventure because they fear that it may be more disagreeable than error: for they know not the beauty of the Author of all things, who is the source of truth. 31. This negligence is a general defect of humanity, and one not to be laid to the charge of any particular person. _Abundamus dulcibus vitiis_, as Quintilian said of the style of Seneca, and we take pleasure in going astray. Exactitude incommodes us and rules we regard as puerilities. Thus it is that common logic (although it is more or less sufficient for the examination of arguments that tend towards certainty) is relegated to schoolboys; and there is not even a thought for a kind of logic which should determine the balance between probabilities, and would be so necessary in deliberations of importance. So true is it that our mistakes for the most part come from scorn or lack of the art of thinking: for nothing is more imperfect than our logic when we pass beyond necessary arguments. The most excellent philosophers of our time, such as the authors of _The Art of Thinking_, of _The Search for Truth_ and of the _Essay concerning Human Understanding_, have been very far from indicating to us the true means fitted to assist the faculty whose business it is to make us weigh the probabilities of the true and the false: not to mention the art of discovery, in which success is still more difficult of attainment, and whereof we have nothing beyond very imperfect samples in mathematics. 32. One thing which might have contributed most towards M. Bayle's belief that the difficulties of reason in opposition to faith cannot be obviated is that he seems to demand that God be justified in some such manner as that commonly used for pleading the cause of a man accused before his judge. But he has not remembered that in the tribunals of men, which cannot always penetrate to the truth, one is often compelled to be guided by signs and probabilities, and above all by presumptions or prejudices; whereas it is agreed, as we have already observed, that Mysteries are not probable. For instance, M. Bayle will not have it that one can justify the goodness of God in the permission of sin, because probability would be against a man that should happen to be in circumstances comparable in our eyes to [93] this permission. God foresees that Eve will be deceived by the serpent if he places her in the circumstances wherein she later found herself; and nevertheless he placed her there. Now if a father or a guardian did the same in regard to his child or his ward, if a friend did so in regard to a young person whose behaviour was his concern, the judge would not be satisfied by the excuses of an advocate who said that the man only permitted the evil, without doing it or willing it: he would rather take this permission as a sign of ill intention, and would regard it as a sin of omission, which would render the one convicted thereof accessary in another's sin of commission. 33. But it must be borne in mind that when one has foreseen the evil and has not prevented it although it seems as if one could have done so with ease, and one has even done things that have facilitated it, it does not follow on that account _necessarily_ that one is accessary thereto. It is only a very strong presumption, such as commonly replaces truth in human affairs, but which would be destroyed by an exact consideration of the facts, supposing we were capable of that in relation to God. For amongst lawyers that is called 'presumption' which must provisionally pass for truth in case the contrary is not proved; and it says more than 'conjecture', although the _Dictionary_ of the Academy has not sifted the difference. Now there is every reason to conclude unquestionably that one would find through this consideration, if only it were attainable, that reasons most just, and stronger than those which appear contrary to them, have compelled the All-Wise to permit the evil, and even to do things which have facilitated it. Of this some instances will be given later. 34. It is none too easy, I confess, for a father, a guardian, a friend to have such reasons in the case under consideration. Yet the thing is not absolutely impossible, and a skilled writer of fiction might perchance find an extraordinary case that would even justify a man in the circumstances I have just indicated. But in reference to God there is no need to suppose or to establish particular reasons such as may have induced him to permit the evil; general reasons suffice. One knows that he takes care of the whole universe, whereof all the parts are connected; and one must thence infer that he has had innumerable considerations whose result made him deem it inadvisable to prevent certain evils. 35. It should even be concluded that there must have been great or [94] rather invincible reasons which prompted the divine Wisdom to the permission of the evil that surprises us, from the mere fact that this permission has occurred: for nothing can come from God that is not altogether consistent with goodness, justice and holiness. Thus we can judge by the event (or _a posteriori_) that the permission was indispensable, although it be not possible for us to show this (_a priori_) by the detailed reasons that God can have had therefor; as it is not necessary either that we show this to justify him. M. Bayle himself aptly says concerning that (_Reply to the Questions of a Provincial_, vol. III, ch. 165, p. 1067): Sin made its way into the world; God therefore was able to permit it without detriment to his perfections; _ab actu ad potentiam valet consequentia._ In God this conclusion holds good: he did this, therefore he did it well. It is not, then, that we have no notion of justice in general fit to be applied also to God's justice; nor is it that God's justice has other rules than the justice known of men, but that the case in question is quite different from those which are common among men. Universal right is the same for God and for men; but the question of fact is quite different in their case and his. 36. We may even assume or pretend (as I have already observed) that there is something similar among men to this circumstance in God's actions. A man might give such great and strong proofs of his virtue and his holiness that all the most apparent reasons one could put forward against him to charge him with an alleged crime, for instance a larceny or murder, would deserve to be rejected as the calumnies of false witnesses or as an extraordinary play of chance which sometimes throws suspicion on the most innocent. Thus in a case where every other would run the risk of being condemned or put to the torture (according to the laws of the country), this man would be absolved by his judges unanimously. Now in this case, which indeed is rare, but which is not impossible, one might say in a sense (_sano sensu_) that there is a conflict between reason and faith, and that the rules of law are other in respect of this person than they are in respect of the remainder of mankind. But that, when explained, will signify only that appearances of reason here give way before the faith that is due to the word and the integrity of this great and holy man, and that he is privileged above other men; not indeed as if there were one law for others and another for him, nor as if one had no understanding of what justice is in relation to him. It is rather because the rules of universal justice do not find here [95] the application that they receive elsewhere, or because they favour him instead of accusing him, since there are in this personage qualities so admirable, that by virtue of a good logic of probabilities one should place more faith in his word than in that of many others. 37. Since it is permitted here to imagine possible cases, may one not suppose this incomparable man to be the Adept or the Possessor of _'that blessed Stone_ _Able to enrich all earthly Kings alone'_ and that he spends every day prodigious sums in order to feed and to rescue from distress countless numbers of poor men? Be there never so many witnesses or appearances of every kind tending to prove that this great benefactor of the human race has just committed some larceny, is it not true that the whole earth would make mock of the accusation, however specious it might be? Now God is infinitely above the goodness and the power of this man, and consequently there are no reasons at all, however apparent they be, that can hold good against faith, that is, against the assurance or the confidence in God wherewith we can and ought to say that God has done all things well. The objections are therefore not insoluble. They only involve prejudices and probabilities, which are, however, overthrown by reasons incomparably stronger. One must not say either that what we call _justice_ is nothing in relation to God, that he is the absolute Master of all things even to the point of being able to condemn the innocent without violating his justice, or finally that justice is something arbitrary where he is concerned. Those are rash and dangerous expressions, whereunto some have been led astray to the discredit of the attributes of God. For if such were the case there would be no reason for praising his goodness and his justice: rather would it be as if the most wicked spirit, the Prince of evil genii, the evil principle of the Manichaeans, were the sole master of the universe, just as I observed before. What means would there be of distinguishing the true God from the false God of Zoroaster if all things depended upon the caprice of an arbitrary power and there were neither rule nor consideration for anything whatever? 38. It is therefore more than evident that nothing compels us to commit ourselves to a doctrine so strange, since it suffices to say that we [96] have not enough knowledge of the facts when there is a question of answering probabilities which appear to throw doubt upon the justice and the goodness of God, and which would vanish away if the facts were well known to us. We need neither renounce reason in order to listen to faith nor blind ourselves in order to see clearly, as Queen Christine used to say: it is enough to reject ordinary appearances when they are contrary to Mysteries; and this is not contrary to reason, since even in natural things we are very often undeceived about appearances either by experience or by superior reasons. All that has been set down here in advance, only with the object of showing more plainly wherein the fault of the objections and the abuse of reason consists in the present case, where the claim is made that reason has greatest force against faith: we shall come afterwards to a more exact discussion of that which concerns the origin of evil and the permission of sin with its consequences. 39. For now, it will be well to continue our examination of the important question of the use of reason in theology, and to make reflexions upon what M. Bayle has said thereon in divers passages of his works. As he paid particular attention in his _Historical and Critical Dictionary_ to expounding the objections of the Manichaeans and those of the Pyrrhonians, and as this procedure had been criticized by some persons zealous for religion, he placed a dissertation at the end of the second edition of this _Dictionary_, which aimed at showing, by examples, by authorities and by reasons, the innocence and usefulness of his course of action. I am persuaded (as I have said above) that the specious objections one can urge against truth are very useful, and that they serve to confirm and to illumine it, giving opportunity to intelligent persons to find new openings or to turn the old to better account. But M. Bayle seeks therein a usefulness quite the reverse of this: it would be that of displaying the power of faith by showing that the truths it teaches cannot sustain the attacks of reason and that it nevertheless holds its own in the heart of the faithful. M. Nicole seems to call that 'the triumph of God's authority over human reason', in the words of his quoted by M. Bayle in the third volume of his _Reply to the Questions of a Provincial_ (ch. 177, p. 120). But since reason is a gift of God, even as faith is, contention between them would cause God to contend against God; and if the objections of reason against any article of faith are insoluble, then it must be said that this alleged article will be false and not revealed: this will be [97] a chimera of the human mind, and the triumph of this faith will be capable of comparison with bonfires lighted after a defeat. Such is the doctrine of the damnation of unbaptized children, which M. Nicole would have us assume to be a consequence of original sin; such would be the eternal damnation of adults lacking the light that is necessary for the attainment of salvation. 40. Yet everyone need not enter into theological discussions; and persons whose condition allows not of exact researches should be content with instruction on faith, without being disturbed by the objections; and if some exceeding great difficulty should happen to strike them, it is permitted to them to avert the mind from it, offering to God a sacrifice of their curiosity: for when one is assured of a truth one has no need to listen to the objections. As there are many people whose faith is rather small and shallow to withstand such dangerous tests, I think one must not present them with that which might be poisonous for them; or, if one cannot hide from them what is only too public, the antidote must be added to it; that is to say, one must try to add the answer to the objection, certainly not withhold it as unobtainable. 41. The passages from the excellent theologians who speak of this triumph of faith can and should receive a meaning appropriate to the principles I have just affirmed. There appear in some objects of faith two great qualities capable of making it triumph over reason, the one is _incomprehensibility_, the other is _the lack of probability_. But one must beware of adding thereto the third quality whereof M. Bayle speaks, and of saying that what one believes is _indefensible_: for that would be to cause reason in its turn to triumph in a manner that would destroy faith. Incomprehensibility does not prevent us from believing even natural truths. For instance (as I have already pointed out) we do not comprehend the nature of odours and savours, and yet we are persuaded, by a kind of faith which we owe to the evidence of the senses, that these perceptible qualities are founded upon the nature of things and that they are not illusions. 42. There are also things contrary to appearances, which we admit when they are sufficiently verified. There is a little romance of Spanish origin, whose title states that one must not always believe what one sees. What was there more specious than the lie of the false Martin Guerre, who was acknowledged as the true Martin by the true Martin's wife and [98] relatives, and caused the judges and the relatives to waver for a long time even after the arrival of the other? Nevertheless the truth was known in the end. It is the same with faith. I have already observed that all one can oppose to the goodness and the justice of God is nothing but appearances, which would be strong against a man, but which are nullified when they are applied to God and when they are weighed against the proofs that assure us of the infinite perfection of his attributes. Thus faith triumphs over false reasons by means of sound and superior reasons that have made us embrace it; but it would not triumph if the contrary opinion had for it reasons as strong as or even stronger than those which form the foundation of faith, that is, if there were invincible and conclusive objections against faith. 43. It is well also to observe here that what M. Bayle calls a 'triumph of faith' is in part a triumph of demonstrative reason against apparent and deceptive reasons which are improperly set against the demonstrations. For it must be taken into consideration that the objections of the Manichaeans are hardly less contrary to natural theology than to revealed theology. And supposing one surrendered to them Holy Scripture, original sin, the grace of God in Jesus Christ, the pains of hell and the other articles of our religion, one would not even so be delivered from their objections: for one cannot deny that there is in the world physical evil (that is, suffering) and moral evil (that is, crime) and even that physical evil is not always distributed here on earth according to the proportion of moral evil, as it seems that justice demands. There remains, then, this question of natural theology, how a sole Principle, all-good, all-wise and all-powerful, has been able to admit evil, and especially to permit sin, and how it could resolve to make the wicked often happy and the good unhappy? 44. Now we have no need of revealed faith to know that there is such a sole Principle of all things, entirely good and wise. Reason teaches us this by infallible proofs; and in consequence all the objections taken from the course of things, in which we observe imperfections, are only based on false appearances. For, if we were capable of understanding the universal harmony, we should see that what we are tempted to find fault with is connected with the plan most worthy of being chosen; in a word, we _should see_, and should not _believe_ only, that what God has done is the best. I call 'seeing' here what one knows _a priori_ by the causes; and [99] 'believing' what one only judges by the effects, even though the one be as certainly known as the other. And one can apply here too the saying of St. Paul (2 Cor. v. 7), that we walk by _faith_ and not by _sight_. For the infinite wisdom of God being known to us, we conclude that the evils we experience had to be permitted, and this we conclude from the effect or _a posteriori_, that is to say, because they exist. It is what M. Bayle acknowledges; and he ought to content himself with that, and not claim that one must put an end to the false appearances which are contrary thereto. It is as if one asked that there should be no more dreams or optical illusions. 45. And it is not to be doubted that this faith and this confidence in God, who gives us insight into his infinite goodness and prepares us for his love, in spite of the appearances of harshness that may repel us, are an admirable exercise for the virtues of Christian theology, when the divine grace in Jesus Christ arouses these motions within us. That is what Luther aptly observed in opposition to Erasmus, saying that it is love in the highest degree to love him who to flesh and blood appears so unlovable, so harsh toward the unfortunate and so ready to condemn, and to condemn for evils in which he appears to be the cause or accessary, at least in the eyes of those who allow themselves to be dazzled by false reasons. One may therefore say that the triumph of true reason illumined by divine grace is at the same time the triumph of faith and love. 46. M. Bayle appears to have taken the matter quite otherwise: he declares himself against reason, when he might have been content to censure its abuse. He quotes the words of Cotta in Cicero, where he goes so far as to say that if reason were a gift of the gods providence would be to blame for having given it, since it tends to our harm. M. Bayle also thinks that human reason is a source of destruction and not of edification (_Historical and Critical Dictionary_, p. 2026, col. 2), that it is a runner who knows not where to stop, and who, like another Penelope, herself destroys her own work. _Destruit, aedificat, mutat quadrata rotundis._ (_Reply to the Questions of a Provincial_, vol. III, p. 725). But he takes pains especially to pile up many authorities one upon the other, in order to show that theologians of all parties reject the use of reason just as he does, and that they call attention to such gleams of reason as oppose religion only that they may sacrifice them to faith by a mere [100] repudiation, answering nothing but the conclusion of the argument that is brought against them. He begins with the New Testament. Jesus Christ was content to say: 'Follow Me' (Luke v. 27; ix. 59). The Apostles said: 'Believe, and thou shalt be saved' (Acts xvi. 3). St. Paul acknowledges that his 'doctrine is obscure' (1 Cor. xiii. 12), that 'one can comprehend nothing therein' unless God impart a spiritual discernment, and without that it only passes for foolishness (1 Cor. ii. 14). He exhorts the faithful 'to beware of philosophy' (Col. ii. 8) and to avoid disputations in that science, which had caused many persons to lose faith. 47. As for the Fathers of the Church, M. Bayle refers us to the collection of passages from them against the use of philosophy and of reason which M. de Launoy made (_De Varia Aristotelis Fortuna,_ cap. 2) and especially to the passages from St. Augustine collected by M. Arnauld (against Mallet), which state: that the judgements of God are inscrutable; that they are not any the less just for that they are unknown to us; that it is a deep abyss, which one cannot fathom without running the risk of falling down the precipice; that one cannot without temerity try to elucidate that which God willed to keep hidden; that his will cannot but be just; that many men, having tried to explain this incomprehensible depth, have fallen into vain imaginations and opinions full of error and bewilderment. 48. The Schoolmen have spoken in like manner. M. Bayle quotes a beautiful passage from Cardinal Cajetan (Part I, _Summ._, qu. 22, art. 4) to this effect: 'Our mind', he says, 'rests not upon the evidence of known truth but upon the impenetrable depth of hidden truth. And as St. Gregory says: He who believes touching the Divinity only that which he can gauge with his mind belittles the idea of God. Yet I do not surmise that it is necessary to deny any of the things which we know, or which we see as appertaining to the immutability, the actuality, the certainty, the universality, etc., of God: but I think that there is here some secret, either in regard to the relation which exists between God and the event, or in respect of what connects the event itself with his prevision. Thus, reflecting that the understanding of our soul is the eye of the owl, I find the soul's repose only in ignorance. For it is better both for the Catholic Faith and for Philosophic Faith to confess our blindness, than to affirm as evident what does not afford our mind the contentment which self-evidence gives. I do not accuse of presumption, on that account, all the learned men who [101] stammeringly have endeavoured to suggest, as far as in them lay, the immobility and the sovereign and eternal efficacy of the understanding, of the will and of the power of God, through the infallibility of divine election and divine relation to all events. Nothing of all that interferes with my surmise that there is some depth which is hidden from us.' This passage of Cajetan is all the more notable since he was an author competent to reach the heart of the matter. 49. Luther's book against Erasmus is full of vigorous comments hostile to those who desire to submit revealed truths to the tribunal of our reason. Calvin often speaks in the same tone, against the inquisitive daring of those who seek to penetrate into the counsels of God. He declares in his treatise on predestination that God had just causes for damning some men, but causes unknown to us. Finally M. Bayle quotes sundry modern writers who have spoken to the same effect (_Reply to the Questions of a Provincial_, ch. 161 et seq.). 50. But all these expressions and innumerable others like them do not prove that the objections opposed to faith are so insoluble as M. Bayle supposes. It is true that the counsels of God are inscrutable, but there is no invincible objection which tends to the conclusion that they are unjust. What appears injustice on the part of God, and foolishness in our faith, only appears so. The famous passage of Tertullian (_De Carne Christi_), 'mortuus est Dei filius, credibile est, quia ineptum est; et sepultus revixit, certum est, quia impossibile', is a sally that can only be meant to concern appearances of absurdity. There are others like them in Luther's book on _Freewill in Bondage_, as when he says (ch. 174): 'Si placet tibi Deus indignos coronans, non debet displicere immeritos damnans.' Which being reduced to more temperate phrasing, means: If you approve that God give eternal glory to those who are not better than the rest, you should not disapprove that he abandon those who are not worse than the rest. And to judge that he speaks only of appearances of injustice, one only has to weigh these words of the same author taken from the same book: 'In all the rest', he says, 'we recognize in God a supreme majesty; there is only justice that we dare to question: and we will not believe provisionally [tantisper] that he is just, albeit he has promised us that the time shall come when his glory being revealed all men shall see clearly that he has been and that he is just.' [102] 51. It will be found also that when the Fathers entered into a discussion they did not simply reject reason. And, in disputations with the pagans, they endeavour usually to show how paganism is contrary to reason, and how the Christian religion has the better of it on that side also. Origen showed Celsus how reasonable Christianity is and why, notwithstanding, the majority of Christians should believe without examination. Celsus had jeered at the behaviour of Christians, 'who, willing', he said, 'neither to listen to your reasons nor to give you any for what they believe, are content to say to you: Examine not, only believe, or: Your faith will save you; and they hold this as a maxim, that the wisdom of the world is an evil.' 52. Origen gives the answer of a wise man, and in conformity with the principles we have established in the matter. For reason, far from being contrary to Christianity, serves as a foundation for this religion, and will bring about its acceptance by those who can achieve the examination of it. But, as few people are capable of this, the heavenly gift of plain faith tending towards good suffices for men in general. 'If it were possible', he says, 'for all men, neglecting the affairs of life, to apply themselves to study and meditation, one need seek no other way to make them accept the Christian religion. For, to say nothing likely to offend anyone' (he insinuates that the pagan religion is absurd, but he will not say so explicitly), 'there will be found therein no less exactitude than elsewhere, whether in the discussion of its dogmas, or in the elucidation of the enigmatical expressions of its prophets, or in the interpretation of the parables of its gospels and of countless other things happening or ordained symbolically. But since neither the necessities of life nor the infirmities of men permit of this application to study, save for a very small number of persons, what means could one find more qualified to benefit everyone else in the world than those Jesus Christ wished to be used for the conversion of the nations? And I would fain ask with regard to the great number of those who believe, and who thereby have withdrawn themselves from the quagmire of vices wherein before they were plunged, which would be the better: to have thus changed one's morals and reformed one's life, believing without examination that there are punishments for sin and rewards for good actions; or to have waited for one's conversion until one not only believed but had examined with care the foundations of these dogmas? It is certain that, were this method to be followed, few[103] indeed would reach that point whither they are led by their plain and simple faith, but the majority would remain in their corruption.' 53. M. Bayle (in his explanation concerning the objections of the Manichaeans, placed at the end of the second edition of the _Dictionary_) takes those words where Origen points out that religion can stand the test of having her dogmas discussed, as if it were not meant in relation to philosophy, but only in relation to the accuracy wherewith the authority and the true meaning of Holy Scripture is established. But there is nothing to indicate this restriction. Origen wrote against a philosopher whom such a restriction would not have suited. And it appears that this Father wished to point out that among Christians there was no less exactitude than among the Stoics and some other philosophers, who established their doctrine as much by reason as by authorities, as, for example, Chrysippus did, who found his philosophy even in the symbols of pagan antiquity. 54. Celsus brings up still another objection to the Christians, in the same place. 'If they withdraw', he says, 'regularly into their "Examine not, only believe", they must tell me at least what are the things they wish me to believe.' Therein he is doubtless right, and that tells against those who would say that God is good and just, and who yet would maintain that we have no notion of goodness and of justice when we attribute these perfections to him. But one must not always demand what I call 'adequate notions', involving nothing that is not explained, since even perceptible qualities, like heat, light, sweetness, cannot give us such notions. Thus we agreed that Mysteries should receive an explanation, but this explanation is imperfect. It suffices for us to have some analogical understanding of a Mystery such as the Trinity and the Incarnation, to the end that in accepting them we pronounce not words altogether devoid of meaning: but it is not necessary that the explanation go as far as we would wish, that is, to the extent of comprehension and to the _how_. 55. It appears strange therefore that M. Bayle rejects the tribunal of _common notions_ (in the third volume of his _Reply to the Questions of a Provincial_, pp. 1062 and 1140) as if one should not consult the idea of goodness in answering the Manichaeans; whereas he had declared himself quite differently in his _Dictionary_. Of necessity there must be agreement upon the meaning of _good_ and _bad_, amongst those who are in dispute[104] over the question whether there is only one principle, altogether good, or whether there are two, the one good and the other bad. We understand something by union when we are told of the union of one body with another or of a substance with its accident, of a subject with its adjunct, of the place with the moving body, of the act with the potency; we also mean something when we speak of the union of the soul with the body to make thereof one single person. For albeit I do not hold that the soul changes the laws of the body, or that the body changes the laws of the soul, and I have introduced the Pre-established Harmony to avoid this derangement, I nevertheless admit a true union between the soul and the body, which makes thereof a suppositum. This union belongs to the metaphysical, whereas a union of influence would belong to the physical. But when we speak of the union of the Word of God with human nature we should be content with an analogical knowledge, such as the comparison of the union of the soul with the body is capable of giving us. We should, moreover, be content to say that the Incarnation is the closest union that can exist between the Creator and the creature; and further we should not want to go. 56. It is the same with the other Mysteries, where moderate minds will ever find an explanation sufficient for belief, but never such as would be necessary for understanding. A certain _what it is_ ([Greek: ti esti]) is enough for us, but the _how_ ([Greek: pôs]) is beyond us, and is not necessary for us. One may say concerning the explanations of Mysteries which are given out here and there, what the Queen of Sweden inscribed upon a medal concerning the crown she had abandoned, 'Non mi bisogna, e non mi basta.' Nor have we any need either (as I have already observed) to prove the Mysteries _a priori_, or to give a reason for them; it suffices us _that the thing is thus_ ([Greek: to hoti]) even though we know not the _why_ ([Greek: to dioti]), which God has reserved for himself. These lines, written on that theme by Joseph Scaliger, are beautiful and renowned: _Ne curiosus quaere causas omnium,_ _Quaecumque libris vis Prophetarum indidit_ _Afflata caelo, plena veraci Deo:_ _Nec operta sacri supparo silentii_ _Irrumpere aude, sed pudenter praeteri._ [Page 105] _Nescire velle, quae Magister optimus_ _Docere non vult, erudita inscitia est._ M. Bayle, who quotes them (_Reply to the Questions of a Provincial_, vol. III, p. 1055), holds the likely opinion that Scaliger made them upon the disputes between Arminius and Gomarus. I think M. Bayle repeated them from memory, for he put _sacrata_ instead of _afflata_. But it is apparently the printer's fault that _prudenter_ stands in place of _pudenter_ (that is, modestly) which the metre requires. 57. Nothing can be more judicious than the warning these lines contain; and M. Bayle is right in saying (p. 729) that those who claim that the behaviour of God with respect to sin and the consequences of sin contains nothing but what they can account for, deliver themselves up to the mercy of their adversary. But he is not right in combining here two very different things, 'to account for a thing', and 'to uphold it against objections'; as he does when he presently adds: 'They are obliged to follow him [their adversary] everywhere whither he shall wish to lead them, and it would be to retire ignominiously and ask for quarter, if they were to admit that our intelligence is too weak to remove completely all the objections advanced by a philosopher.' 58. It seems here that, according to M. Bayle, 'accounting for' comes short of 'answering objections', since he threatens one who should undertake the first with the resulting obligation to pass on to the second. But it is quite the opposite: he who maintains a thesis (the _respondens_) is not bound to account for it, but he is bound to meet the objections of an opponent. A defendant in law is not bound (as a general rule) to prove his right or to produce his title to possession; but he is obliged to reply to the arguments of the plaintiff. I have marvelled many times that a writer so precise and so shrewd as M. Bayle so often here confuses things where so much difference exists as between these three acts of reason: to comprehend, to prove, and to answer objections; as if when it is a question of the use of reason in theology one term were as good as another. Thus he says in his posthumous Conversations, p. 73: 'There is no principle which M. Bayle has more often inculcated than this, that the incomprehensibility of a dogma and the insolubility of the objections that oppose it provide no legitimate reason for rejecting it.' This is true as regards the incomprehensibility, but it is not the same with the insolubility. And it is indeed just as if one said that an invincible reason against a [106] thesis was not a legitimate reason for rejecting it. For what other legitimate reason for rejecting an opinion can one find, if an invincible opposing argument is not such an one? And what means shall one have thereafter of demonstrating the falsity, and even the absurdity, of any opinion? 59. It is well to observe also that he who proves a thing _a priori_ accounts for it through the efficient cause; and whosoever can thus account for it in a precise and adequate manner is also in a position to comprehend the thing. Therefore it was that the Scholastic theologians had already censured Raymond Lully for having undertaken to demonstrate the Trinity by philosophy. This so-called demonstration is to be found in his _Works_; and Bartholomaeus Keckermann, a writer renowned in the Reformed party, having made an attempt of just the same kind upon the same Mystery, has been no less censured for it by some modern theologians. Therefore censure will fall upon those who shall wish to account for this Mystery and make it comprehensible, but praise will be given to those who shall toil to uphold it against the objections of adversaries. 60. I have said already that theologians usually distinguish between what is above reason and what is against reason. They place _above_ reason that which one cannot comprehend and which one cannot account for. But _against_ reason will be all opinion that is opposed by invincible reasons, or the contrary of which can be proved in a precise and sound manner. They avow, therefore, that the Mysteries are above reason, but they do not admit that they are contrary to it. The English author of a book which is ingenious, but has met with disapproval, entitled _Christianity not Mysterious_, wished to combat this distinction; but it does not seem to me that he has at all weakened it. M. Bayle also is not quite satisfied with this accepted distinction. This is what he says on the matter (vol. III of the _Reply to the Questions of a Provincial_, ch. 158). Firstly (p. 998) he distinguishes, together with M. Saurin, between these two theses: the one, _all the dogmas of Christianity are in conformity with reason_; the other, _human reason knows that they are in conformity with reason_. He affirms the first and denies the second. I am of the same opinion, if in saying 'that a dogma conforms to reason' one means that it is possible to account for it or to explain its _how_ by reason; for God could doubtless do so, and we cannot. But I think that one must affirm both theses if by [107] 'knowing that a dogma conforms to reason' one means that we can demonstrate, if need be, that there is no contradiction between this dogma and reason, repudiating the objections of those who maintain that this dogma is an absurdity. 61. M. Bayle explains himself here in a manner not at all convincing. He acknowledges fully that our Mysteries are in accordance with the supreme and universal reason that is in the divine understanding, or with reason in general; yet he denies that they are in accordance with that part of reason which man employs to judge things. But this portion of reason which we possess is a gift of God, and consists in the natural light that has remained with us in the midst of corruption; thus it is in accordance with the whole, and it differs from that which is in God only as a drop of water differs from the ocean or rather as the finite from the infinite. Therefore Mysteries may transcend it, but they cannot be contrary to it. One cannot be contrary to one part without being contrary to the whole. That which contradicts a proposition of Euclid is contrary to the _Elements_ of Euclid. That which in us is contrary to the Mysteries is not reason nor is it the natural light or the linking together of truths; it is corruption, or error, or prejudice, or darkness. 62. M. Bayle (p. 1002) is not satisfied with the opinion of Josua Stegman and of M. Turretin, Protestant theologians who teach that the Mysteries are contrary only to corrupt reason. He asks, mockingly, whether by right reason is meant perchance that of an orthodox theologian and by corrupt reason that of an heretic; and he urges the objection that the evidence of the Mystery of the Trinity was no greater in the soul of Luther than in the soul of Socinius. But as M. Descartes has well observed, good sense is distributed to all: thus one must believe that both the orthodox and heretics are endowed therewith. Right reason is a linking together of truths, corrupt reason is mixed with prejudices and passions. And in order to discriminate between the two, one need but proceed in good order, admit no thesis without proof, and admit no proof unless it be in proper form, according to the commonest rules of logic. One needs neither any other criterion nor other arbitrator in questions of reason. It is only through lack of this consideration that a handle has been given to the sceptics, and that even in theology François Véron and some others, who [108] exacerbated the dispute with the Protestants, even to the point of dishonesty, plunged headlong into scepticism in order to prove the necessity of accepting an infallible external judge. Their course meets with no approval from the most expert, even in their own party: Calixtus and Daillé derided it as it deserved, and Bellarmine argued quite otherwise. 63. Now let us come to what M. Bayle says (p. 999) on the distinction we are concerned with. 'It seems to me', he says, 'that an ambiguity has crept into the celebrated distinction drawn between things that are above reason and things that are against reason. The Mysteries of the Gospel are above reason, so it is usually said, but they are not contrary to reason. I think that the same sense is not given to the word reason in the first part of this axiom as in the second: by the first is understood rather the reason of man, or reason _in concreto_ and by the second reason in general, or reason _in abstracto_. For supposing that it is understood always as reason in general or the supreme reason, the universal reason that is in God, it is equally true that the Mysteries of the Gospels are not above reason and that they are not against reason. But if in both parts of the axiom human reason is meant, I do not clearly see the soundness of the distinction: for the most orthodox confess that we know not how our Mysteries can conform to the maxims of philosophy. It seems to us, therefore, that they are not in conformity with our reason. Now that which appears to us not to be in conformity with our reason appears contrary to our reason, just as that which appears to us not in conformity with truth appears contrary to truth. Thus why should not one say, equally, that the Mysteries are against our feeble reason, and that they are above our feeble reason?' I answer, as I have done already, that 'reason' here is the linking together of the truths that we know by the light of nature, and in this sense the axiom is true and without any ambiguity. The Mysteries transcend our reason, since they contain truths that are not comprised in this sequence; but they are not contrary to our reason, and they do not contradict any of the truths whereto this sequence can lead us. Accordingly there is no question here of the universal reason that is in God, but of our reason. As for the question whether we know the Mysteries to conform with our reason, I answer that at least we never know of any non-conformity or any opposition between the Mysteries and reason. Moreover, we can always abolish such alleged [109] opposition, and so, if this can be called reconciling or harmonizing faith with reason, or recognizing the conformity between them, it must be said that we can recognize this conformity and this harmony. But if the conformity consists in a reasonable explanation of the _how_, we cannot recognize it. 64. M. Bayle makes one more ingenious objection, which he draws from the example of the sense of sight. 'When a square tower', he says, 'from a distance appears to us round, our eyes testify very clearly not only that they perceive nothing square in this tower, but also that they discover there a round shape, incompatible with the square shape. One may therefore say that the truth which is the square shape is not only above, but even against, the witness of our feeble sight.' It must be admitted that this observation is correct, and although it be true that the appearance of roundness comes simply from the effacement of the angles, which distance causes to disappear, it is true, notwithstanding, that the round and the square are opposites. Therefore my answer to this objection is that the representation of the senses, even when they do all that in them lies, is often contrary to the truth; but it is not the same with the faculty of reasoning, when it does its duty, since a strictly reasoned argument is nothing but a linking together of truths. And as for the sense of sight in particular, it is well to consider that there are yet other false appearances which come not from the 'feebleness of our eyes' nor from the loss of visibility brought about by distance, but from the very _nature of vision_, however perfect it be. It is thus, for instance, that the circle seen sideways is changed into that kind of oval which among geometricians is known as an ellipse, and sometimes even into a parabola or a hyperbola, or actually into a straight line, witness the ring of Saturn. 65. The _external_ senses, properly speaking, do not deceive us. It is our inner sense which often makes us go too fast. That occurs also in brute beasts, as when a dog barks at his reflexion in the mirror: for beasts have _consecutions_ of perception which resemble reasoning, and which occur also in the inner sense of men, when their actions have only an empirical quality. But beasts do nothing which compels us to believe that they have what deserves to be properly called a _reasoning_ sense, as I have shown elsewhere. Now when the understanding uses and follows the false decision of the inner sense (as when the famous Galileo thought that Saturn had[110] two handles) it is deceived by the judgement it makes upon the effect of appearances, and it infers from them more than they imply. For the appearances of the senses do not promise us absolutely the truth of things, any more than dreams do. It is we who deceive ourselves by the use we make of them, that is, by our consecutions. Indeed we allow ourselves to be deluded by probable arguments, and we are inclined to think that phenomena such as we have found linked together often are so always. Thus, as it happens usually that that which appears without angles has none, we readily believe it to be always thus. Such an error is pardonable, and sometimes inevitable, when it is necessary to act promptly and choose that which appearances recommend; but when we have the leisure and the time to collect our thoughts, we are in fault if we take for certain that which is not so. It is therefore true that appearances are often contrary to truth, but our reasoning never is when it proceeds strictly in accordance with the rules of the art of reasoning. If by _reason_ one meant generally the faculty of reasoning whether well or ill, I confess that it might deceive us, and does indeed deceive us, and the appearances of our understanding are often as deceptive as those of the senses: but here it is a question of the linking together of truths and of objections in due form, and in this sense it is impossible for reason to deceive us. 66. Thus it may be seen from all I have just said that M. Bayle carries too far _the being above reason_, as if it included the insoluble nature of objections: for according to him (_Reply to the Questions of a Provincial_, vol. III, ch. 130, p. 651) 'once a dogma is above reason, philosophy can neither explain it nor comprehend it, nor meet the difficulties that are urged against it'. I agree with regard to comprehension, but I have already shown that the Mysteries receive a necessary verbal explanation, to the end that the terms employed be not _sine mente soni_, words signifying nothing. I have shown also that it is necessary for one to be capable of answering the objections, and that otherwise one must needs reject the thesis. 67. He adduces the authority of theologians, who appear to recognize the insoluble nature of the objections against the Mysteries. Luther is one of the chief of these; but I have already replied, in § 12, to the passage where he seems to say that philosophy contradicts theology. There is another passage (_De Servo Arbitrio_, ch. 246) where he says that the apparent injustice of God is proved by arguments taken from the [111] adversity of good people and the prosperity of the wicked, an argument irresistible both for all reason and for natural intelligence ('Argumentis talibus traducta, quibus nulla ratio aut lumen naturae potest resistere'). But soon afterwards he shows that he means it only of those who know nothing of the life to come, since he adds that an expression in the Gospel dissipates this difficulty, teaching us that there is another life, where that which has not been punished and rewarded in this life shall receive its due. The objection is then far from being insuperable, and even without the aid of the Gospel one could bethink oneself of this answer. There is also quoted (_Reply_, vol. III, p. 652) a passage from Martin Chemnitz, criticized by Vedelius and defended by Johann Musaeus, where this famous theologian seems to say clearly that there are truths in the word of God which are not only above reason but also against reason. But this passage must be taken as referring only to the principles of reason that are in accordance with the order of Nature, as Musaeus also interprets it. 68. It is true nevertheless that M. Bayle finds some authorities who are more favourable to him, M. Descartes being one of the chief. This great man says positively (Part I of his _Principles_, art. 41) 'that we shall have not the slightest trouble in ridding ourselves of the difficulty' (which one may have in harmonizing the freedom of our will with the order of the eternal providence of God) 'if we observe that our thought is finite, and that the Knowledge and the Omnipotence of God, whereby he has not only known from all eternity all that which is or which can be, but also has willed it, is infinite. We have therefore quite enough intelligence to recognize clearly and distinctly that this knowledge and this power are in God; but we have not enough so to comprehend their scope that we can know how they leave the actions of men entirely free and undetermined. Yet the Power and the Knowledge of God must not prevent us from believing that we have a free will; for we should be wrong to doubt of that whereof we are inwardly conscious, and which we know by experience to be within us, simply because we do not comprehend some other thing which we know to be incomprehensible in its nature.' 69. This passage from M. Descartes, followed by his adherents (who rarely think of doubting what he asserts), has always appeared strange to me. Not content with saying that, as for him, he sees no way of reconciling [112] the two dogmas, he puts the whole human race, and even all rational creatures, in the same case. Yet could he have been unaware that there is no possibility of an insuperable objection against truth? For such an objection could only be a necessary linking together of other truths whose result would be contrary to the truth that one maintains; and consequently there would be contradiction between the truths, which would be an utter absurdity. Moreover, albeit our mind is finite and cannot comprehend the infinite, of the infinite nevertheless it has proofs whose strength or weakness it comprehends; why then should it not have the same comprehension in regard to the objections? And since the power and the wisdom of God are infinite and comprehend everything, there is no pretext for doubting their scope. Further, M. Descartes demands a freedom which is not needed, by his insistence that the actions of the will of man are altogether undetermined, a thing which never happens. Finally, M. Bayle himself maintains that this experience or this inward sense of our independence, upon which M. Descartes founds the proof of our freedom, does not prove it: for from the fact that we are not conscious of the causes whereon we depend, it does not follow, according to M. Bayle, that we are independent. But that is something we will speak of in its proper place. 70. It seems that M. Descartes confesses also, in a passage of his _Principles_, that it is impossible to find an answer to the difficulties on the division of matter to infinity, which he nevertheless recognizes as actual. Arriaga and other Schoolmen make well-nigh the same confession: but if they took the trouble to give to the objections the form these ought to have, they would see that there are faults in the reasoning, and sometimes false assumptions which cause confusion. Here is an example. A man of parts one day brought up to me an objection in the following form: Let the straight line BA be cut in two equal parts at the point C, and the part CA at the point D, and the part DA at the point E, and so on to infinity; all the halves, BC, CD, DE, etc., together make the whole BA; therefore there must be a last half, since the straight line BA finishes at A. But this last half is absurd: for since it is a line, it will be possible again to cut it in two. Therefore division to infinity cannot be admitted. But I pointed out to him that one is not justified in the inference that there must be a last half, although there be a last point A, for this last point belongs to all the halves of its side. And my friend acknowledged it [113] himself when he endeavoured to prove this deduction by a formal argument; on the contrary, just because the division goes on to infinity, there is no last half. And although the straight line AB be finite, it does not follow that the process of dividing it has any final end. The same confusion arises with the series of numbers going on to infinity. One imagines a final end, a number that is infinite, or infinitely small; but that is all simple fiction. Every number is finite and specific; every line is so likewise, and the infinite or infinitely small signify only magnitudes that one may take as great or as small as one wishes, to show that an error is smaller than that which has been specified, that is to say, that there is no error; or else by the infinitely small is meant the state of a magnitude at its vanishing point or its beginning, conceived after the pattern of magnitudes already actualized. 71. It will, however, be well to consider the argument that M. Bayle puts forward to show that one cannot refute the objections which reason opposes to the Mysteries. It is in his comment on the Manichaeans (p. 3140 of the second edition of his _Dictionary_). 'It is enough for me', he says, 'that it be unanimously acknowledged that the Mysteries of the Gospel are above reason. For thence comes the necessary conclusion that it is impossible to settle the difficulties raised by the philosophers, and in consequence that a dispute where only the light of Nature is followed will always end unfavourably for the theologians, and that they will see themselves forced to give way and to take refuge in the canon of the supernatural light.' I am surprised that M. Bayle speaks in such general terms, since he has acknowledged himself that the light of Nature is against the Manichaeans, and for the oneness of the Principle, and that the goodness of God is proved incontrovertibly by reason. Yet this is how he continues: 72. 'It is evident that reason can never attain to that which is above it. Now if it could supply answers to the objections which are opposed to the dogma of the Trinity and that of hypostatic union, it would attain to those two Mysteries, it would have them in subjection and submit them to the strictest examination by comparison with its first principles, or with the aphorisms that spring from common notions, and proceed until finally it had drawn the conclusion that they are in accordance with natural light. It would therefore do what exceeds its powers, it would soar above its [114] confines, and that is a formal contradiction. One must therefore say that it cannot provide answers to its own objections, and that thus they remain victorious, so long as one does not have recourse to the authority of God and to the necessity of subjugating one's understanding to the obedience of faith.' I do not find that there is any force in this reasoning. We can attain to that which is above us not by penetrating it but by maintaining it; as we can attain to the sky by sight, and not by touch. Nor is it necessary that, in order to answer the objections which are made against the Mysteries, one should have them in subjection to oneself, and submit them to examination by comparison with the first principles that spring from common notions. For if he who answers the objections had to go so far, he who proposes the objections needs must do it first. It is the part of the objection to open up the subject, and it is enough for him who answers to say Yes or No. He is not obliged to counter with a distinction: it will do, in case of need, if he denies the universality of some proposition in the objection or criticizes its form, and one may do both these things without penetrating beyond the objection. When someone offers me a proof which he maintains is invincible, I can keep silence while I compel him merely to prove in due form all the enunciations that he brings forward, and such as appear to me in the slightest degree doubtful. For the purpose of doubting only, I need not at all probe to the heart of the matter; on the contrary, the more ignorant I am the more shall I be justified in doubting. M. Bayle continues thus: 73. 'Let us endeavour to clarify that. If some doctrines are above reason they are beyond its reach, it cannot attain to them; if it cannot attain to them, it cannot comprehend them.' (He could have begun here with the 'comprehend', saying that reason cannot comprehend that which is above it.) 'If it cannot comprehend them, it can find in them no idea' (_Non valet consequentia_: for, to 'comprehend' something, it is not enough that one have some ideas thereof; one must have all the ideas of everything that goes to make it up, and all these ideas must be clear, distinct, _adequate_. There are a thousand objects in Nature in which we understand something, but which we do not therefore necessarily comprehend. We have some ideas on the rays of light, we demonstrate upon them up to a certain point; but there ever remains something which makes us confess that we do not yet comprehend the whole nature of light.) 'nor any principle such[115] as may give rise to a solution;' (Why should not evident principles be found mingled with obscure and confused knowledge?) 'and consequently the objections that reason has made will remain unanswered;' (By no means; the difficulty is rather on the side of the opposer. It is for him to seek an evident principle such as may give rise to some objection; and the more obscure the subject, the more trouble he will have in finding such a principle. Moreover, when he has found it he will have still more trouble in demonstrating an opposition between the principle and the Mystery: for, if it happened that the Mystery was evidently contrary to an evident principle, it would not be an obscure Mystery, it would be a manifest absurdity.) 'or what is the same thing, answer will be made with some distinction as obscure as the very thesis that will have been attacked.' (One can do without distinctions, if need be, by denying either some premiss or some conclusion; and when one is doubtful of the meaning of some term used by the opposer one may demand of him its definition. Thus the defender has no need to incommode himself when it is a question of answering an adversary who claims that he is offering us an invincible proof. But even supposing that the defender, perchance being kindly disposed, or for the sake of brevity, or because he feels himself strong enough, should himself vouchsafe to show the ambiguity concealed in the objection, and to remove it by making some distinction, this distinction need not of necessity lead to anything clearer than the first thesis, since the defender is not obliged to elucidate the Mystery itself.) 74. 'Now it is certain', so M. Bayle continues, 'that an objection which is founded on distinct notions remains equally victorious, whether you give to it no answer, or you make an answer where none can comprehend anything. Can the contest be equal between a man who alleges in objection to you that which you and he very clearly conceive, and you, who can only defend yourself by answers wherein neither of you understands anything?' (It is not enough that the objection be founded on quite distinct notions, it is necessary also that one apply it in contradiction of the thesis. And when I answer someone by denying some premiss, in order to compel him to prove it, or some conclusion, to compel him to put it in good form, it cannot be said that I answer nothing or that I answer nothing intelligible. For as it is the doubtful premiss of the adversary that I deny, my denial will be [116] as intelligible as his affirmation. Finally, when I am so obliging as to explain myself by means of some distinction, it suffices that the terms I employ have some meaning, as in the Mystery itself. Thus something in my answer will be comprehended: but one need not of necessity comprehend all that it involves; otherwise one would comprehend the Mystery also.) 75. M. Bayle continues thus: 'Every philosophical dispute assumes that the disputant parties agree on certain definitions' (This would be desirable, but usually it is only in the dispute itself that one reaches such a point, if the necessity arises.) 'and that they admit the rules of Syllogisms, and the signs for the recognition of bad arguments. After that everything lies in the investigation as to whether a thesis conforms mediately or immediately to the principles one is agreed upon' (which is done by means of the syllogisms of him who makes objections); 'whether the premisses of a proof (advanced by the opposer) 'are true; whether the conclusion is properly drawn; whether a four-term Syllogism has been employed; whether some aphorism of the chapter _de oppositis_ or _de sophisticis elenchis_, etc., has not been violated.' (It is enough, putting it briefly, to deny some premiss or some conclusion, or finally to explain or get explained some ambiguous term.) 'One comes off victorious either by showing that the subject of dispute has no connexion with the principles which had been agreed upon' (that is to say, by showing that the objection proves nothing, and then the defender wins the case), 'or by reducing the defender to absurdity' (when all the premisses and all the conclusions are well proved). 'Now one can reduce him to that point either by showing him that the conclusions of his thesis are "yes" and "no" at once, or by constraining him to say only intelligible things in answer.' (This last embarrassment he can always avoid, because he has no need to advance new theses.) 'The aim in disputes of this kind is to throw light upon obscurities and to arrive at self-evidence.' (It is the aim of the opposer, for he wishes to demonstrate that the Mystery is false; but this cannot here be the aim of the defender, for in admitting Mystery he agrees that one cannot demonstrate it.) 'This leads to the opinion that during the course of the proceedings victory sides more or less with the defender or with the opposer, according to whether there is more or less clarity in the propositions of the one than in the propositions of the other.' (That [117] is speaking as if the defender and the opposer were equally unprotected; but the defender is like a besieged commander, covered by his defence works, and it is for the attacker to destroy them. The defender has no need here of self-evidence, and he seeks it not: but it is for the opposer to find it against him, and to break through with his batteries in order that the defender may be no longer protected.) 76. 'Finally, it is judged that victory goes against him whose answers are such that one comprehends nothing in them,' (It is a very equivocal sign of victory: for then one must needs ask the audience if they comprehend anything in what has been said, and often their opinions would be divided. The order of formal disputes is to proceed by arguments in due form and to answer them by denying or making a distinction.) 'and who confesses that they are incomprehensible.' (It is permitted to him who maintains the truth of a Mystery to confess that this mystery is incomprehensible; and if this confession were sufficient for declaring him vanquished there would be no need of objection. It will be possible for a truth to be incomprehensible, but never so far as to justify the statement that one comprehends nothing at all therein. It would be in that case what the ancient Schools called _Scindapsus_ or _Blityri_ (Clem. Alex., _Stromateis_, 8), that is, words devoid of meaning.) 'He is condemned thenceforth by the rules for awarding victory; and even when he cannot be pursued in the mist wherewith he has covered himself, and which forms a kind of abyss between him and his antagonists, he is believed to be utterly defeated, and is compared to an army which, having lost the battle, steals away from the pursuit of the victor only under cover of night.' (Matching allegory with allegory, I will say that the defender is not vanquished so long as he remains protected by his entrenchments; and if he risks some sortie beyond his need, it is permitted to him to withdraw within his fort, without being open to blame for that.) 77. I was especially at pains to analyse this long passage where M. Bayle has put down his strongest and most skilfully reasoned statements in support of his opinion: and I hope that I have shown clearly how this excellent man has been misled. That happens all too easily to the ablest and shrewdest persons when they give free rein to their wit without exercising the patience necessary for delving down to the very foundations of their systems. The details we have entered into here will serve as [118] answer to some other arguments upon the subject which are dispersed through the works of M. Bayle, as for instance when he says in his _Reply to the Questions of a Provincial_ (vol. III, ch. 133, p. 685): 'To prove that one has brought reason and religion into harmony one must show not only that one has philosophic maxims favourable to our faith, but also that the particular maxims cast up against us as not being consistent with our Catechism are in reality consistent with it in a clearly conceived way.' I do not see that one has need of all that, unless one aspire to press reasoning as far as the _how_ of the Mystery. When one is content to uphold its truth, without attempting to render it comprehensible, one has no need to resort to philosophic maxims, general or particular, for the proof; and when another brings up some philosophic maxims against us, it is not for us to prove clearly and distinctly that these maxims are consistent with our dogma, but it is for our opponent to prove that they are contrary thereto. 78. M. Bayle continues thus in the same passage: 'For this result we need an answer as clearly evident as the objection.' I have already shown that it is obtained when one denies the premisses, but that for the rest it is not necessary for him who maintains the truth of the Mystery always to advance evident propositions, since the principal thesis concerning the Mystery itself is not evident. He adds further: 'If we must make reply and rejoinder, we must never rest in our positions, nor claim that we have accomplished our design, so long as our opponent shall make answer with things as evident as our reasons can be.' But it is not for the defender to adduce reasons; it is enough for him to answer those of his opponent. 79. Finally the author draws the conclusion: 'If it were claimed that, on making an evident objection, a man has to be satisfied with an answer which we can only state as a thing possible though incomprehensible to us, that would be unfair.' He repeats this in the posthumous Dialogues, against M. Jacquelot, p. 69. I am not of this opinion. If the objection were completely evident, it would triumph, and the thesis would be overthrown. But when the objection is only founded on appearances or on instances of the most frequent occurrence, and when he who makes it desires to draw from it a universal and certain conclusion, he who upholds the Mystery may answer with the instance of a bare possibility. For such an instance [119] suffices to show that what one wished to infer from the premisses, is neither certain nor general; and it suffices for him who upholds the Mystery to maintain that it is possible, without having to maintain that it is probable. For, as I have often said, it is agreed that the Mysteries are against appearances. He who upholds the Mystery need not even adduce such an instance; and should he adduce it, it were indeed a work of supererogation, or else an instrument of greater confusion to the adversary. 80. There are passages of M. Bayle in the posthumous reply that he made to M. Jacquelot which seem to me still worthy of scrutiny. 'M. Bayle' (according to pp. 36, 37) 'constantly asserts in his _Dictionary_, whenever the subject allows, that our reason is more capable of refuting and destroying than of proving and building; that there is scarcely any philosophical or theological matter in respect of which it does not create great difficulties. Thus', he says, 'if one desired to follow it in a disputatious spirit, as far as it can go, one would often be reduced to a state of troublesome perplexity; and in fine, there are doctrines certainly true, which it disputes with insoluble objections.' I think that what is said here in reproach of reason is to its advantage. When it overthrows some thesis, it builds up the opposing thesis. And when it seems to be overthrowing the two opposing theses at the same time, it is then that it promises us something profound, provided that we follow it _as far as it can go_, not in a disputatious spirit but with an ardent desire to search out and discover the truth, which will always be recompensed with a great measure of success. 81. M. Bayle continues: 'that one must then ridicule these objections, recognizing the narrow bounds of the human mind.' And I think, on the other hand, that one must recognize the signs of the force of the human mind, which causes it to penetrate into the heart of things. These are new openings and, as it were, rays of the dawn which promises us a greater light: I mean in philosophical subjects or those of natural theology. But when these objections are made against revealed faith it is enough that one be able to repel them, provided that one do so in a submissive and zealous spirit, with intent to sustain and exalt the glory of God. And when we succeed in respect of his justice, we shall likewise be impressed by his greatness and charmed by his goodness, which will show themselves through the clouds of a seeming reason that is deceived by outward [120] appearances, in proportion as the mind is elevated by true reason to that which to us is invisible, but none the less sure. 82. 'Thus' (to continue with M. Bayle) 'reason will be compelled to lay down its arms, and to subjugate itself to the obedience of the faith, which it can and ought to do, in virtue of some of its most incontestable maxims. Thus also in renouncing some of its other maxims it acts nevertheless in accordance with that which it is, that is to say, in reason.' But one must know 'that such maxims of reason as must be renounced in this case are only those which make us judge by appearances or according to the ordinary course of things.' This reason enjoins upon us even in philosophical subjects, when there are invincible proofs to the contrary. It is thus that, being made confident by demonstrations of the goodness and the justice of God, we disregard the appearances of harshness and injustice which we see in this small portion of his Kingdom that is exposed to our gaze. Hitherto we have been illumined by the _light of Nature_ and by that of _grace_, but not yet by that of _glory_. Here on earth we see apparent injustice, and we believe and even know the truth of the hidden justice of God; but we shall see that justice when at last the Sun of Justice shall show himself as he is. 83. It is certain that M. Bayle can only be understood as meaning those ostensible maxims which must give way before the eternal verities; for he acknowledges that reason is not in reality contrary to faith. In these posthumous Dialogues he complains (p. 73, against M. Jacquelot) of being accused of the belief that our Mysteries are in reality against reason, and (p. 9, against M. le Clerc) of the assertion made that he who acknowledges that a doctrine is exposed to irrefutable objections acknowledges also by a necessary consequence the falsity of this doctrine. Nevertheless one would be justified in the assertion if the irrefutability were more than an outward appearance. 84. It may be, therefore, that having long contended thus against M. Bayle on the matter of the use of reason I shall find after all that his opinions were not fundamentally so remote from mine as his expressions, which have provided matter for our considerations, have led one to believe. It is true that frequently he appears to deny absolutely that one can ever answer the objections of reason against faith, and that he asserts the necessity of comprehending, in order to achieve such an end, how the Mystery comes [121] to be or exists. Yet there are passages where he becomes milder, and contents himself with saying that the answers to these objections are unknown to him. Here is a very precise passage, taken from the excursus on the Manichaeans, which is found at the end of the second edition of his _Dictionary_: 'For the greater satisfaction of the most punctilious readers, I desire to declare here' (he says, p. 3148) 'that wherever the statement is to be met with in my _Dictionary_ that such and such arguments are irrefutable I do not wish it to be taken that they are so in actuality. I mean naught else than that they appear to me irrefutable. That is of no consequence: each one will be able to imagine, if he pleases, that if I deem thus of a matter it is owing to my lack of acumen.' I do not imagine such a thing; his great acumen is too well known to me: but I think that, after having applied his whole mind to magnifying the objections, he had not enough attention left over for the purpose of answering them. 85. M. Bayle confesses, moreover, in his posthumous work against M. le Clerc, that the objections against faith have not the force of proofs. It is therefore _ad hominem_ only, or rather _ad homines_, that is, in relation to the existing state of the human race, that he deems these objections irrefutable and the subject unexplainable. There is even a passage where he implies that he despairs not of the possibility that the answer or the explanation may be found, and even in our time. For here is what he says in his posthumous Reply to M. le Clerc (p. 35): 'M. Bayle dared to hope that his toil would put on their mettle some of those great men of genius who create new systems, and that they could discover a solution hitherto unknown.' It seems that by this 'solution' he means such an explanation of Mystery as would penetrate to the _how_: but that is not necessary for replying to the objections. 86. Many have undertaken to render this _how_ comprehensible, and to prove the possibility of Mysteries. A certain writer named Thomas Bonartes Nordtanus Anglus, in his _Concordia Scientiae cum Fide,_ claimed to do so. This work seemed to me ingenious and learned, but crabbed and involved, and it even contains indefensible opinions. I learned from the _Apologia Cyriacorum_ of the Dominican Father Vincent Baron that that book was censured in Rome, that the author was a Jesuit, and that he suffered for having published it. The Reverend Father des Bosses, who now teaches Theology in the Jesuit College of Hildesheim, and who has combined [122] rare erudition with great acumen, which he displays in philosophy and theology, has informed me that the real name of Bonartes was Thomas Barton, and that after leaving the Society he retired to Ireland, where the manner of his death brought about a favourable verdict on his last opinions. I pity the men of talent who bring trouble upon themselves by their toil and their zeal. Something of like nature happened in time past to Pierre Abelard, to Gilbert de la Porree, to John Wyclif, and in our day to the Englishman Thomas Albius, as well as to some others who plunged too far into the explanation of the Mysteries. 87. St. Augustine, however (as well as M. Bayle), does not despair of the possibility that the desired solution may be found upon earth; but this Father believes it to be reserved for some holy man illumined by a peculiar grace: 'Est aliqua causa fortassis occultior, quae melioribus sanctioribusque reservatur, illius gratia potius quam meritis illorum' (in _De Genesi ad Literam_, lib. 11, c. 4). Luther reserves the knowledge of the Mystery of Election for the academy of heaven (lib. _De Servo Arbitrio_, c. 174): 'Illic [Deus] gratiam et misericordiam spargit in indignos, his iram et severitatem spargit in immeritos; utrobique nimius et iniquus apud homines, sed justus et verax apud se ipsum. Nam quomodo hoc justum sit ut indignos coronet, incomprehensibile est modo, videbimus autem, cum illuc venerimus, ubi jam non credetur, sed revelata facie videbitur. Ita quomodo hoc justum sit, ut immeritos damnet, incomprehensibile est modo, creditur tamen, donec revelabitur filius hominis.' It is to be hoped that M. Bayle now finds himself surrounded by that light which is lacking to us here below, since there is reason to suppose that he was not lacking in good will. VIRGIL _Candidus insueti miratur limen Olympi,_ _Sub pedibusque videt nubes et sidera Daphnis._ LUCAN _...Illic postquam se lumine vero_ _Implevit, stellasque vagas miratur et astra_ _Fixa polis, vidit quanta sub nocte jaceret_ _Nostra dies._ [123] * * * * * ESSAYS ON THE JUSTICE OF GOD AND THE FREEDOM OF MAN IN THE ORIGIN OF EVIL * * * * * PART ONE 1. Having so settled the rights of faith and of reason as rather to place reason at the service of faith than in opposition to it, we shall see how they exercise these rights to support and harmonize what the light of nature and the light of revelation teach us of God and of man in relation to evil. The _difficulties_ are distinguishable into two classes. The one kind springs from man's freedom, which appears incompatible with the divine nature; and nevertheless freedom is deemed necessary, in order that man may be deemed guilty and open to punishment. The other kind concerns the conduct of God, and seems to make him participate too much in the existence of evil, even though man be free and participate also therein. And this conduct appears contrary to the goodness, the holiness and the justice of God, since God co-operates in evil as well physical as moral, and co-operates in each of them both morally and physically; and since it seems that these evils are manifested in the order of nature as well as in that of grace, and in the future and eternal life as well as, nay, more than, in this transitory life. 2. To present these difficulties in brief, it must be observed that freedom is opposed, to all appearance, by determination or certainty of any kind whatever; and nevertheless the common dogma of our philosophers states that the truth of contingent futurities is determined. The foreknowledge of[124] God renders all the future certain and determined, but his providence and his foreordinance, whereon foreknowledge itself appears founded, do much more: for God is not as a man, able to look upon events with unconcern and to suspend his judgement, since nothing exists save as a result of the decrees of his will and through the action of his power. And even though one leave out of account the co-operation of God, all is perfectly connected in the order of things, since nothing can come to pass unless there be a cause so disposed as to produce the effect, this taking place no less in voluntary than in all other actions. According to which it appears that man is compelled to do the good and evil that he does, and in consequence that he deserves therefor neither recompense nor chastisement: thus is the morality of actions destroyed and all justice, divine and human, shaken. 3. But even though one should grant to man this freedom wherewith he arrays himself to his own hurt, the conduct of God could not but provide matter for a criticism supported by the presumptuous ignorance of men, who would wish to exculpate themselves wholly or in part at the expense of God. It is objected that all the reality and what is termed the substance of the act in sin itself is a production of God, since all creatures and all their actions derive from him that reality they have. Whence one could infer not only that he is the physical cause of sin, but also that he is its moral cause, since he acts with perfect freedom and does nothing without a complete knowledge of the thing and the consequences that it may have. Nor is it enough to say that God has made for himself a law to co-operate with the wills or resolutions of man, whether we express ourselves in terms of the common opinion or in terms of the system of occasional causes. Not only will it be found strange that he should have made such a law for himself, of whose results he was not ignorant, but the principal difficulty is that it seems the evil will itself cannot exist without co-operation, and even without some predetermination, on his part, which contributes towards begetting this will in man or in some other rational creature. For an action is not, for being evil, the less dependent on God. Whence one will come at last to the conclusion that God does all, the good and the evil, indifferently; unless one pretend with the Manichaeans that there are two principles, the one good and the other evil. Moreover, according to the general opinion of theologians and philosophers, conservation being a [125] perpetual creation, it will be said that man is perpetually created corrupt and erring. There are, furthermore, modern Cartesians who claim that God is the sole agent, of whom created beings are only the purely passive organs; and M. Bayle builds not a little upon that idea. 4. But even granting that God should co-operate in actions only with a general co-operation, or even not at all, at least in those that are bad, it suffices, so it is said, to inculpate him and to render him the moral cause that nothing comes to pass without his permission. To say nothing of the fall of the angels, he knows all that which will come to pass, if, having created man, he places him in such and such circumstances; and he places him there notwithstanding. Man is exposed to a temptation to which it is known that he will succumb, thereby causing an infinitude of frightful evils, by which the whole human race will be infected and brought as it were into a necessity of sinning, a state which is named 'original sin'. Thus the world will be brought into a strange confusion, by this means death and diseases being introduced, with a thousand other misfortunes and miseries that in general afflict the good and the bad; wickedness will even hold sway and virtue will be oppressed on earth, so that it will scarce appear that a providence governs affairs. But it is much worse when one considers the life to come, since but a small number of men will be saved and since all the rest will perish eternally. Furthermore these men destined for salvation will have been withdrawn from the corrupt mass through an unreasoning election, whether it be said that God in choosing them has had regard to their future actions, to their faith or to their works, or one claim that he has been pleased to give them these good qualities and these actions because he has predestined them to salvation. For though it be said in the most lenient system that God wished to save all men, and though in the other systems commonly accepted it be granted, that he has made his Son take human nature upon him to expiate their sins, so that all they who shall believe in him with a lively and final faith shall be saved, it still remains true that this lively faith is a gift of God; that we are dead to all good works; that even our will itself must be aroused by a prevenient grace, and that God gives us the power to will and to do. And whether that be done through a grace efficacious of itself, that is to say, through a divine inward motion which wholly determines our [126] will to the good that it does; or whether there be only a sufficient grace, but such as does not fail to attain its end, and to become efficacious in the inward and outward circumstances wherein the man is and has been placed by God: one must return to the same conclusion that God is the final reason of salvation, of grace, of faith and of election in Jesus Christ. And be the election the cause or the result of God's design to give faith, it still remains true that he gives faith or salvation to whom he pleases, without any discernible reason for his choice, which falls upon but few men. 5. So it is a terrible judgement that God, giving his only Son for the whole human race and being the sole author and master of the salvation of men, yet saves so few of them and abandons all others to the devil his enemy, who torments them eternally and makes them curse their Creator, though they have all been created to diffuse and show forth his goodness, his justice and his other perfections. And this outcome inspires all the more horror, as the sole cause why all these men are wretched to all eternity is God's having exposed their parents to a temptation that he knew they would not resist; as this sin is inherent and imputed to men before their will has participated in it; as this hereditary vice impels their will to commit actual sins; and as countless men, in childhood or maturity, that have never heard or have not heard enough of Jesus Christ, Saviour of the human race, die before receiving the necessary succour for their withdrawal from this abyss of sin. These men too are condemned to be for ever rebellious against God and plunged in the most horrible miseries, with the wickedest of all creatures, though in essence they have not been more wicked than others, and several among them have perchance been less guilty than some of that little number of elect, who were saved by a grace without reason, and who thereby enjoy an eternal felicity which they had not deserved. Such in brief are the difficulties touched upon by sundry persons; but M. Bayle was one who insisted on them the most, as will appear subsequently when we examine his passages. I think that now I have recorded the main essence of these difficulties: but I have deemed it fitting to refrain from some expressions and exaggerations which might have caused offence, while not rendering the objections any stronger. 6. Let us now turn the medal and let us also point out what can be said in answer to those objections; and here a course of explanation through [127] fuller dissertation will be necessary: for many difficulties can be opened up in few words, but for their discussion one must dilate upon them. Our end is to banish from men the false ideas that represent God to them as an absolute prince employing a despotic power, unfitted to be loved and unworthy of being loved. These notions are the more evil in relation to God inasmuch as the essence of piety is not only to fear him but also to love him above all things: and that cannot come about unless there be knowledge of his perfections capable of arousing the love which he deserves, and which makes the felicity of those that love him. Feeling ourselves animated by a zeal such as cannot fail to please him, we have cause to hope that he will enlighten us, and that he will himself aid us in the execution of a project undertaken for his glory and for the good of men. A cause so good gives confidence: if there are plausible appearances against us there are proofs on our side, and I would dare to say to an adversary: _Aspice, quam mage sit nostrum penetrabile telum._ 7. _God is the first reason of things_: for such things as are bounded, as all that which we see and experience, are contingent and have nothing in them to render their existence necessary, it being plain that time, space and matter, united and uniform in themselves and indifferent to everything, might have received entirely other motions and shapes, and in another order. Therefore one must seek the reason for the existence of the world, which is the whole assemblage of _contingent_ things, and seek it in the substance which carries with it the reason for its existence, and which in consequence is _necessary_ and eternal. Moreover, this cause must be intelligent: for this existing world being contingent and an infinity of other worlds being equally possible, and holding, so to say, equal claim to existence with it, the cause of the world must needs have had regard or reference to all these possible worlds in order to fix upon one of them. This regard or relation of an existent substance to simple possibilities can be nothing other than the _understanding_ which has the ideas of them, while to fix upon one of them can be nothing other than the act of the _will_ which chooses. It is the _power_ of this substance that renders its will efficacious. Power relates to _being_, wisdom or understanding to _truth_, and will to _good_. And this intelligent cause ought to be infinite in all ways, and absolutely perfect in _power_, in _wisdom_ and in _goodness_, since it relates to all that which is possible. [128] Furthermore, since all is connected together, there is no ground for admitting more than _one_. Its understanding is the source of _essences_, and its will is the origin of _existences_. There in few words is the proof of one only God with his perfections, and through him of the origin of things. 8. Now this supreme wisdom, united to a goodness that is no less infinite, cannot but have chosen the best. For as a lesser evil is a kind of good, even so a lesser good is a kind of evil if it stands in the way of a greater good; and there would be something to correct in the actions of God if it were possible to do better. As in mathematics, when there is no maximum nor minimum, in short nothing distinguished, everything is done equally, or when that is not possible nothing at all is done: so it may be said likewise in respect of perfect wisdom, which is no less orderly than mathematics, that if there were not the best (_optimum_) among all possible worlds, God would not have produced any. I call 'World' the whole succession and the whole agglomeration of all existent things, lest it be said that several worlds could have existed in different times and different places. For they must needs be reckoned all together as one world or, if you will, as one Universe. And even though one should fill all times and all places, it still remains true that one might have filled them in innumerable ways, and that there is an infinitude of possible worlds among which God must needs have chosen the best, since he does nothing without acting in accordance with supreme reason. 9. Some adversary not being able to answer this argument will perchance answer the conclusion by a counter-argument, saying that the world could have been without sin and without sufferings; but I deny that then it would have been _better_. For it must be known that all things are _connected_ in each one of the possible worlds: the universe, whatever it may be, is all of one piece, like an ocean: the least movement extends its effect there to any distance whatsoever, even though this effect become less perceptible in proportion to the distance. Therein God has ordered all things beforehand once for all, having foreseen prayers, good and bad actions, and all the rest; and each thing _as an idea_ has contributed, before its existence, to the resolution that has been made upon the existence of all things; so that nothing can be changed in the universe (any more than in a number) save its essence or, if you will, save its _numerical individuality_. Thus, if the smallest evil that comes to pass in the world were missing in it, it [129] would no longer be this world; which, with nothing omitted and all allowance made, was found the best by the Creator who chose it. 10. It is true that one may imagine possible worlds without sin and without unhappiness, and one could make some like Utopian or Sevarambian romances: but these same worlds again would be very inferior to ours in goodness. I cannot show you this in detail. For can I know and can I present infinities to you and compare them together? But you must judge with me _ab effectu_, since God has chosen this world as it is. We know, moreover, that often an evil brings forth a good whereto one would not have attained without that evil. Often indeed two evils have made one great good: _Et si fata volunt, bina venena juvant_. Even so two liquids sometimes produce a solid, witness the spirit of wine and spirit of urine mixed by Van Helmont; or so do two cold and dark bodies produce a great fire, witness an acid solution and an aromatic oil combined by Herr Hoffmann. A general makes sometimes a fortunate mistake which brings about the winning of a great battle; and do they not sing on the eve of Easter, in the churches of the Roman rite: _O certe necessarium Adae peccatum, quod Christi morte deletum est!_ _O felix culpa, quae talem ac tantum meruit habere Redemptorem!_ 11. The illustrious prelates of the Gallican church who wrote to Pope Innocent XII against Cardinal Sfondrati's book on predestination, being of the principles of St. Augustine, have said things well fitted to elucidate this great point. The cardinal appears to prefer even to the Kingdom of Heaven the state of children dying without baptism, because sin is the greatest of evils, and they have died innocent of all actual sin. More will be said of that below. The prelates have observed that this opinion is ill founded. The apostle, they say (Rom. iii. 8), is right to disapprove of the doing of evil that good may come, but one cannot disapprove that God, through his exceeding power, derive from the permitting of sins greater goods than such as occurred before the sins. It is not that we ought to take pleasure in sin, God forbid! but that we believe the same apostle when he says (Rom. v. 20) that where sin abounded, grace did much more [130] abound; and we remember that we have gained Jesus Christ himself by reason of sin. Thus we see that the opinion of these prelates tends to maintain that a sequence of things where sin enters in may have been and has been, in effect, better than another sequence without sin. 12. Use has ever been made of comparisons taken from the pleasures of the senses when these are mingled with that which borders on pain, to prove that there is something of like nature in intellectual pleasures. A little acid, sharpness or bitterness is often more pleasing than sugar; shadows enhance colours; and even a dissonance in the right place gives relief to harmony. We wish to be terrified by rope-dancers on the point of falling and we wish that tragedies shall well-nigh cause us to weep. Do men relish health enough, or thank God enough for it, without having ever been sick? And is it not most often necessary that a little evil render the good more discernible, that is to say, greater? 13. But it will be said that evils are great and many in number in comparison with the good: that is erroneous. It is only want of attention that diminishes our good, and this attention must be given to us through some admixture of evils. If we were usually sick and seldom in good health, we should be wonderfully sensible of that great good and we should be less sensible of our evils. But is it not better, notwithstanding, that health should be usual and sickness the exception? Let us then by our reflexion supply what is lacking in our perception, in order to make the good of health more discernible. Had we not the knowledge of the life to come, I believe there would be few persons who, being at the point of death, were not content to take up life again, on condition of passing through the same amount of good and evil, provided always that it were not the same kind: one would be content with variety, without requiring a better condition than that wherein one had been. 14. When one considers also the fragility of the human body, one looks in wonder at the wisdom and the goodness of the Author of Nature, who has made the body so enduring and its condition so tolerable. That has often made me say that I am not astonished men are sometimes sick, but that I am astonished they are sick so little and not always. This also ought to make us the more esteem the divine contrivance of the mechanism of animals, whose Author has made machines so fragile and so subject to corruption[131] and yet so capable of maintaining themselves: for it is Nature which cures us rather than medicine. Now this very fragility is a consequence of the nature of things, unless we are to will that this kind of creature, reasoning and clothed in flesh and bones, be not in the world. But that, to all appearance, would be a defect which some philosophers of old would have called _vacuum formarum_, a gap in the order of species. 15. Those whose humour it is to be well satisfied with Nature and with fortune and not to complain about them, even though they should not be the best endowed, appear to me preferable to the other sort; for besides that these complaints are ill founded, it is in effect murmuring against the orders of providence. One must not readily be among the malcontents in the State where one is, and one must not be so at all in the city of God, wherein one can only wrongfully be of their number. The books of human misery, such as that of Pope Innocent III, to me seem not of the most serviceable: evils are doubled by being given an attention that ought to be averted from them, to be turned towards the good which by far preponderates. Even less do I approve books such as that of Abbé Esprit, _On the Falsity of Human Virtues_, of which we have lately been given a summary: for such a book serves to turn everything wrong side out, and cause men to be such as it represents them. 16. It must be confessed, however, that there are disorders in this life, which appear especially in the prosperity of sundry evil men and in the misfortune of many good people. There is a German proverb which even grants the advantage to the evil ones, as if they were commonly the most fortunate: _Je krümmer Holz, je bessre Krücke:_ _Je ärger Schalck, je grösser Glücke._ And it were to be desired that this saying of Horace should be true in our eyes: _Raro antecedentem scelestum_ _Deseruit pede poena claudo._ Yet it often comes to pass also, though this perchance not the most often, [132] _That in the world's eyes Heaven is justified,_ and that one may say with Claudian: _Abstulit hunc tandem Rufini poena tumultum,_ _Absolvitque deos..._ 17. But even though that should not happen here, the remedy is all prepared in the other life: religion and reason itself teach us that, and we must not murmur against a respite which the supreme wisdom has thought fit to grant to men for repentance. Yet there objections multiply on another side, when one considers salvation and damnation: for it appears strange that, even in the great future of eternity, evil should have the advantage over good, under the supreme authority of him who is the sovereign good, since there will be many that are called and few that are chosen or are saved. It is true that one sees from some lines of Prudentius (Hymn. ante Somnum), _Idem tamen benignus_ _Ultor retundit iram,_ _Paucosque non piorum_ _Patitur perire in aevum,_ that divers men believed in his time that the number of those wicked enough to be damned would be very small. To some indeed it seems that men believed at that time in a sphere between Hell and Paradise; that this same Prudentius speaks as if he were satisfied with this sphere; that St. Gregory of Nyssa also inclines in that direction, and that St. Jerome leans towards the opinion according whereunto all Christians would finally be taken into grace. A saying of St. Paul which he himself gives out as mysterious, stating that all Israel will be saved, has provided much food for reflexion. Sundry pious persons, learned also, but daring, have revived the opinion of Origen, who maintains that good will predominate in due time, in all and everywhere, and that all rational creatures, even the bad angels, will become at last holy and blessed. The book of the eternal Gospel, published lately in German and supported by a great and learned work entitled [Greek: 'Apokatástasis pántôn], has caused much stir over this great paradox. M. le Clerc also has ingeniously pleaded the cause of the Origenists, but without declaring himself for them. [133] 18. There is a man of wit who, pushing my principle of harmony even to arbitrary suppositions that I in no wise approve, has created for himself a theology well-nigh astronomical. He believes that the present confusion in this world below began when the Presiding Angel of the globe of the earth, which was still a sun (that is, a star that was fixed and luminous of itself) committed a sin with some lesser angels of his department, perhaps rising inopportunely against an angel of a greater sun; that simultaneously, by the Pre-established Harmony of the Realms of Nature and of Grace, and consequently by natural causes occurring at the appointed time, our globe was covered with stains, rendered opaque and driven from its place; which has made it become a wandering star or planet, that is, a Satellite of another sun, and even perhaps of that one whose superiority its angel refused to recognize; and that therein consists the fall of Lucifer. Now the chief of the bad angels, who in Holy Scripture is named the prince, and even the god of this world, being, with the angels of his train, envious of that rational animal which walks on the surface of this globe, and which God has set up there perhaps to compensate himself for their fall, strives to render it accessary in their crimes and a participator in their misfortunes. Whereupon Jesus Christ came to save men. He is the eternal Son of God, even as he is his only Son; but (according to some ancient Christians, and according to the author of this hypothesis) having taken upon him at first, from the beginning of things, the most excellent nature among created beings, to bring them all to perfection, he set himself amongst them: and this is the second filiation, whereby he is the first-born of all creatures. This is he whom the Cabalists called Adam Kadmon. Haply he had planted his tabernacle in that great sun which illumines us; but he came at last into this globe where we are, he was born of the Virgin, and took human nature upon him to save mankind from the hands of their enemy and his. And when the time of judgement shall draw near, when the present face of our globe shall be about to perish, he will return to it in visible form, thence to withdraw the good, transplanting them, it may be, into the sun, and to punish here the wicked with the demons that have allured them; then the globe of the earth will begin to burn and will be perhaps a comet. This fire will last for aeons upon aeons. The tail of the comet is intended by the smoke which will rise incessantly, according to the Apocalypse, and this fire will be hell, or the second[134] death whereof Holy Scripture speaks. But at last hell will render up its dead, death itself will be destroyed; reason and peace will begin to hold sway again in the spirits that had been perverted; they will be sensible of their error, they will adore their Creator, and will even begin to love him all the more for seeing the greatness of the abyss whence they emerge. Simultaneously (by virtue of the _harmonic parallelism_ of the Realms of Nature and of Grace) this long and great conflagration will have purged the earth's globe of its stains. It will become again a sun; its Presiding Angel will resume his place with the angels of his train; humans that were damned shall be with them numbered amongst the good angels; this chief of our globe shall render homage to the Messiah, chief of created beings. The glory of this angel reconciled shall be greater than it was before his fall. _Inque Deos iterum factorum lege receptus_ _Aureus aeternum noster regnabit Apollo._ The vision seemed to me pleasing, and worthy of a follower of Origen: but we have no need of such hypothesis or fictions, where Wit plays a greater part than Revelation, and which even Reason cannot turn to account. For it does not appear that there is one principal place in the known universe deserving in preference to the rest to be the seat of the eldest of created beings; and the sun of our system at least is not it. 19. Holding then to the established doctrine that the number of men damned eternally will be incomparably greater than that of the saved, we must say that the evil could not but seem to be almost as nothing in comparison with the good, when one contemplates the true vastness of the city of God. Coelius Secundus Curio wrote a little book, _De Amplitudine Regni Coelestis_, which was reprinted not long since; but he is indeed far from having apprehended the compass of the kingdom of heaven. The ancients had puny ideas on the works of God, and St. Augustine, for want of knowing modern discoveries, was at a loss when there was question of explaining the prevalence of evil. It seemed to the ancients that there was only one earth inhabited, and even of that men held the antipodes in dread: the remainder of the world was, according to them, a few shining globes and a few crystalline spheres. To-day, whatever bounds are given or not given to the universe, it must be acknowledged that there is an infinite number of globes, as great as and greater than ours, which have as much right as[135] it to hold rational inhabitants, though it follows not at all that they are human. It is only one planet, that is to say one of the six principal satellites of our sun; and as all fixed stars are suns also, we see how small a thing our earth is in relation to visible things, since it is only an appendix of one amongst them. It may be that all suns are peopled only by blessed creatures, and nothing constrains us to think that many are damned, for few instances or few samples suffice to show the advantage which good extracts from evil. Moreover, since there is no reason for the belief that there are stars everywhere, is it not possible that there may be a great space beyond the region of the stars? Whether it be the Empyrean Heaven, or not, this immense space encircling all this region may in any case be filled with happiness and glory. It can be imagined as like the Ocean, whither flow the rivers of all blessed creatures, when they shall have reached their perfection in the system of the stars. What will become of the consideration of our globe and its inhabitants? Will it not be something incomparably less than a physical point, since our earth is as a point in comparison with the distance of some fixed stars? Thus since the proportion of that part of the universe which we know is almost lost in nothingness compared with that which is unknown, and which we yet have cause to assume, and since all the evils that may be raised in objection before us are in this near nothingness, haply it may be that all evils are almost nothingness in comparison with the good things which are in the universe. 20. But it is necessary also to meet the more speculative and metaphysical difficulties which have been mentioned, and which concern the cause of evil. The question is asked first of all, whence does evil come? _Si Deus est, unde malum? Si non est, unde bonum?_ The ancients attributed the cause of evil to _matter_, which they believed uncreate and independent of God: but we, who derive all being from God, where shall we find the source of evil? The answer is, that it must be sought in the ideal nature of the creature, in so far as this nature is contained in the eternal verities which are in the understanding of God, independently of his will. For we must consider that there is an _original imperfection in the creature_ before sin, because the creature is limited in its essence; whence ensues that it cannot know all, and that it can deceive itself and commit other errors. Plato said in _Timaeus_ that the world originated in [136] Understanding united to Necessity. Others have united God and Nature. This can be given a reasonable meaning. God will be the Understanding; and the Necessity, that is, the essential nature of things, will be the object of the understanding, in so far as this object consists in the eternal verities. But this object is inward and abides in the divine understanding. And therein is found not only the primitive form of good, but also the origin of evil: the Region of the Eternal Verities must be substituted for matter when we are concerned with seeking out the source of things. This region is the ideal cause of evil (as it were) as well as of good: but, properly speaking, the formal character of evil has no _efficient_ cause, for it consists in privation, as we shall see, namely, in that which the efficient cause does not bring about. That is why the Schoolmen are wont to call the cause of evil _deficient_. 21. Evil may be taken metaphysically, physically and morally. _Metaphysical evil_ consists in mere imperfection, _physical evil_ in suffering, and _moral evil_ in sin. Now although physical evil and moral evil be not necessary, it is enough that by virtue of the eternal verities they be possible. And as this vast Region of Verities contains all possibilities it is necessary that there be an infinitude of possible worlds, that evil enter into divers of them, and that even the best of all contain a measure thereof. Thus has God been induced to permit evil. 22. But someone will say to me: why speak you to us of 'permitting'? Is it not God that doeth the evil and that willeth it? Here it will be necessary to explain what 'permission' is, so that it may be seen how this term is not employed without reason. But before that one must explain the nature of will, which has its own degrees. Taking it in the general sense, one may say that _will_ consists in the inclination to do something in proportion to the good it contains. This will is called _antecedent_ when it is detached, and considers each good separately in the capacity of a good. In this sense it may be said that God tends to all good, as good, _ad perfectionem simpliciter simplicem_, to speak like the Schoolmen, and that by an antecedent will. He is earnestly disposed to sanctify and to save all men, to exclude sin, and to prevent damnation. It may even be said that this will is efficacious _of itself (per se)_, that is, in such sort that the effect would ensue if there were not some stronger reason to prevent it: for this will does not pass into final exercise (_ad summum conatum_), else it would never fail to produce its full effect, God being the [137] master of all things. Success entire and infallible belongs only to the _consequent will_, as it is called. This it is which is complete; and in regard to it this rule obtains, that one never fails to do what one wills, when one has the power. Now this consequent will, final and decisive, results from the conflict of all the antecedent wills, of those which tend towards good, even as of those which repel evil; and from the concurrence of all these particular wills comes the total will. So in mechanics compound movement results from all the tendencies that concur in one and the same moving body, and satisfies each one equally, in so far as it is possible to do all at one time. It is as if the moving body took equal account of these tendencies, as I once showed in one of the Paris Journals (7 Sept. 1693), when giving the general law of the compositions of movement. In this sense also it may be said that the antecedent will is efficacious in a sense and even effective with success. 23. Thence it follows that God wills _antecedently_ the good and _consequently_ the best. And as for evil, God wills moral evil not at all, and physical evil or suffering he does not will absolutely. Thus it is that there is no absolute predestination to damnation; and one may say of physical evil, that God wills it often as a penalty owing to guilt, and often also as a means to an end, that is, to prevent greater evils or to obtain greater good. The penalty serves also for amendment and example. Evil often serves to make us savour good the more; sometimes too it contributes to a greater perfection in him who suffers it, as the seed that one sows is subject to a kind of corruption before it can germinate: this is a beautiful similitude, which Jesus Christ himself used. 24. Concerning sin or moral evil, although it happens very often that it may serve as a means of obtaining good or of preventing another evil, it is not this that renders it a sufficient object of the divine will or a legitimate object of a created will. It must only be admitted or _permitted_ in so far as it is considered to be a certain consequence of an indispensable duty: as for instance if a man who was determined not to permit another's sin were to fail of his own duty, or as if an officer on guard at an important post were to leave it, especially in time of danger, in order to prevent a quarrel in the town between two soldiers of the garrison who wanted to kill each other. 25. The rule which states, _non esse facienda mala, ut eveniant bona_, and which even forbids the permission of a moral evil with the end of [138] obtaining a physical good, far from being violated, is here proved, and its source and its reason are demonstrated. One will not approve the action of a queen who, under the pretext of saving the State, commits or even permits a crime. The crime is certain and the evil for the State is open to question. Moreover, this manner of giving sanction to crimes, if it were accepted, would be worse than a disruption of some one country, which is liable enough to happen in any case, and would perchance happen all the more by reason of such means chosen to prevent it. But in relation to God nothing is open to question, nothing can be opposed to _the rule of the best_, which suffers neither exception nor dispensation. It is in this sense that God permits sin: for he would fail in what he owes to himself, in what he owes to his wisdom, his goodness, his perfection, if he followed not the grand result of all his tendencies to good, and if he chose not that which is absolutely the best, notwithstanding the evil of guilt, which is involved therein by the supreme necessity of the eternal verities. Hence the conclusion that God wills all good _in himself antecedently_, that he wills the best _consequently_ as an _end_, that he wills what is indifferent, and physical evil, sometimes as a _means_, but that he will only permit moral evil as the _sine quo non_ or as a hypothetical necessity which connects it with the best. Therefore the _consequent will_ of God, which has sin for its object, is only _permissive_. 26. It is again well to consider that moral evil is an evil so great only because it is a source of physical evils, a source existing in one of the most powerful of creatures, who is also most capable of causing those evils. For an evil will is in its department what the evil principle of the Manichaeans would be in the universe; and reason, which is an image of the Divinity, provides for evil souls great means of causing much evil. One single Caligula, one Nero, has caused more evil than an earthquake. An evil man takes pleasure in causing suffering and destruction, and for that there are only too many opportunities. But God being inclined to produce as much good as possible, and having all the knowledge and all the power necessary for that, it is impossible that in him there be fault, or guilt, or sin; and when he permits sin, it is wisdom, it is virtue. 27. It is indeed beyond question that we must refrain from preventing the sin of others when we cannot prevent their sin without sinning ourselves. But someone will perhaps bring up the objection that it is God himself[139] who acts and who effects all that is real in the sin of the creature. This objection leads us to consider the _physical co-operation_ of God with the creature, after we have examined the _moral co-operation_, which was the more perplexing. Some have believed, with the celebrated Durand de Saint-Pourçain and Cardinal Aureolus, the famous Schoolman, that the co-operation of God with the creature (I mean the physical cooperation) is only general and mediate, and that God creates substances and gives them the force they need; and that thereafter he leaves them to themselves, and does naught but conserve them, without aiding them in their actions. This opinion has been refuted by the greater number of Scholastic theologians, and it appears that in the past it met with disapproval in the writings of Pelagius. Nevertheless a Capuchin named Louis Pereir of Dole, about the year 1630, wrote a book expressly to revive it, at least in relation to free actions. Some moderns incline thereto, and M. Bernier supports it in a little book on freedom and freewill. But one cannot say in relation to God what 'to conserve' is, without reverting to the general opinion. Also it must be taken into account that the action of God in conserving should have some reference to that which is conserved, according to what it is and to the state wherein it is; thus his action cannot be general or indeterminate. These generalities are abstractions not to be found in the truth of individual things, and the conservation of a man standing is different from the conservation of a man seated. This would not be so if conservation consisted only in the act of preventing and warding off some foreign cause which could destroy that which one wishes to conserve; as often happens when men conserve something. But apart from the fact that we are obliged ourselves sometimes to maintain that which we conserve, we must bear in mind that conservation by God consists in the perpetual immediate influence which the dependence of creatures demands. This dependence attaches not only to the substance but also to the action, and one can perhaps not explain it better than by saying, with theologians and philosophers in general, that it is a continued creation. 28. The objection will be made that God therefore now creates man a sinner, he that in the beginning created him innocent. But here it must be said, with regard to the moral aspect, that God being supremely wise cannot fail to observe certain laws, and to act according to the rules, as well [140] physical as moral, that wisdom has made him choose. And the same reason that has made him create man innocent, but liable to fall, makes him re-create man when he falls; for God's knowledge causes the future to be for him as the present, and prevents him from rescinding the resolutions made. 29. As for physical co-operation, here one must consider the truth which has made already so much stir in the Schools since St. Augustine declared it, that evil is a privation of being, whereas the action of God tends to the positive. This answer is accounted a quibble, and even something chimerical in the minds of many people. But here is an instance somewhat similar, which will serve to disabuse them. 30. The celebrated Kepler and M. Descartes (in his letters) after him have spoken of the 'natural inertia of bodies'; and it is something which may be regarded as a perfect image and even as a sample of the original limitation of creatures, to show that privation constitutes the formal character of the imperfections and disadvantages that are in substance as well as in its actions. Let us suppose that the current of one and the same river carried along with it various boats, which differ among themselves only in the cargo, some being laden with wood, others with stone, and some more, the others less. That being so, it will come about that the boats most heavily laden will go more slowly than the others, provided it be assumed that the wind or the oar, or some other similar means, assist them not at all. It is not, properly speaking, weight which is the cause of this retardation, since the boats are going down and not upwards; but it is the same cause which also increases the weight in bodies that have greater density, which are, that is to say, less porous and more charged with matter that is proper to them: for the matter which passes through the pores, not receiving the same movement, must not be taken into account. It is therefore matter itself which originally is inclined to slowness or privation of speed; not indeed of itself to lessen this speed, having once received it, since that would be action, but to moderate by its receptivity the effect of the impression when it is to receive it. Consequently, since more matter is moved by the same force of the current when the boat is more laden, it is necessary that it go more slowly; and experiments on the impact of bodies, as well as reason, show that twice as much force [141] must be employed to give equal speed to a body of the same matter but of twice the size. But that indeed would not be necessary if the matter were absolutely indifferent to repose and to movement, and if it had not this natural inertia whereof we have just spoken to give it a kind of repugnance to being moved. Let us now compare the force which the current exercises on boats, and communicates to them, with the action of God, who produces and conserves whatever is positive in creatures, and gives them perfection, being and force: let us compare, I say, the inertia of matter with the natural imperfection of creatures, and the slowness of the laden boat with the defects to be found in the qualities and the action of the creature; and we shall find that there is nothing so just as this comparison. The current is the cause of the boat's movement, but not of its retardation; God is the cause of perfection in the nature and the actions of the creature, but the limitation of the receptivity of the creature is the cause of the defects there are in its action. Thus the Platonists, St. Augustine and the Schoolmen were right to say that God is the cause of the material element of evil which lies in the positive, and not of the formal element, which lies in privation. Even so one may say that the current is the cause of the material element of the retardation, but not of the formal: that is, it is the cause of the boat's speed without being the cause of the limits to this speed. And God is no more the cause of sin than the river's current is the cause of the retardation of the boat. Force also in relation to matter is as the spirit in relation to the flesh; the spirit is willing and the flesh is weak, and spirits act... _quantum non noxia corpora tardant._ 31. There is, then, a wholly similar relation between such and such an action of God, and such and such a passion or reception of the creature, which in the ordinary course of things is perfected only in proportion to its 'receptivity', such is the term used. And when it is said that the creature depends upon God in so far as it exists and in so far as it acts, and even that conservation is a continual creation, this is true in that God gives ever to the creature and produces continually all that in it is positive, good and perfect, every perfect gift coming from the Father of lights. The imperfections, on the other hand, and the defects in operations spring from the original limitation that the creature could not but [142] receive with the first beginning of its being, through the ideal reasons which restrict it. For God could not give the creature all without making of it a God; therefore there must needs be different degrees in the perfection of things, and limitations also of every kind. 32. This consideration will serve also to satisfy some modern philosophers who go so far as to say that God is the only agent. It is true that God is the only one whose action is pure and without admixture of what is termed 'to suffer': but that does not preclude the creature's participation in actions, since _the action of the creature_ is a modification of the substance, flowing naturally from it and containing a variation not only in the perfections that God has communicated to the creature, but also in the limitations that the creature, being what it is, brings with it. Thus we see that there is an actual distinction between the substance and its modification or accidents, contrary to the opinion of some moderns and in particular of the late Duke of Buckingham, who spoke of that in a little _Discourse on Religion_ recently reprinted. Evil is therefore like darkness, and not only ignorance but also error and malice consist formally in a certain kind of privation. Here is an example of error which we have already employed. I see a tower which from a distance appears round although it is square. The thought that the tower is what it appears to be flows naturally from that which I see; and when I dwell on this thought it is an affirmation, it is a false judgement; but if I pursue the examination, if some reflexion causes me to perceive that appearances deceive me, lo and behold, I abandon my error. To abide in a certain place, or not to go further, not to espy some landmark, these are privations. 33. It is the same in respect of malice or ill will. The will tends towards good in general, it must strive after the perfection that befits us, and the supreme perfection is in God. All pleasures have within themselves some feeling of perfection. But when one is limited to the pleasures of the senses, or to other pleasures to the detriment of greater good, as of health, of virtue, of union with God, of felicity, it is in this privation of a further aspiration that the defect consists. In general perfection is positive, it is an absolute reality; defect is privative, it comes from limitation and tends towards new privations. This saying is therefore as true as it is ancient: _bonum ex causa integra, malum ex quolibet defectu_; as also that which states: _malum causam habet non efficientem, sed [143] deficientem_. And I hope that the meaning of these axioms will be better apprehended after what I have just said. 34. The physical co-operation of God and of creatures with the will contributes also to the difficulties existing in regard to freedom. I am of opinion that our will is exempt not only from constraint but also from necessity. Aristotle has already observed that there are two things in freedom, to wit, spontaneity and choice, and therein lies our mastery over our actions. When we act freely we are not being forced, as would happen if we were pushed on to a precipice and thrown from top to bottom; and we are not prevented from having the mind free when we deliberate, as would happen if we were given a draught to deprive us of discernment. There is _contingency_ in a thousand actions of Nature; but when there is no judgement in him who acts there is no _freedom_. And if we had judgement not accompanied by any inclination to act, our soul would be an understanding without will. 35. It is not to be imagined, however, that our freedom consists in an indetermination or an indifference of equipoise, as if one must needs be inclined equally to the side of yes and of no and in the direction of different courses, when there are several of them to take. This equipoise in all directions is impossible: for if we were equally inclined towards the courses A, B and C, we could not be equally inclined towards A and towards not A. This equipoise is also absolutely contrary to experience, and in scrutinizing oneself one will find that there has always been some cause or reason inclining us towards the course taken, although very often we be not aware of that which prompts us: just in the same way one is hardly aware why, on issuing from a door, one has placed the right foot before the left or the left before the right. 36. But let us pass to the difficulties. Philosophers agree to-day that the truth of contingent futurities is determinate, that is to say that contingent futurities are future, or that they will be, that they will happen: for it is as sure that the future will be, as it is sure that the past has been. It was true already a hundred years ago that I should write to-day, as it will be true after a hundred years that I have written. Thus the contingent is not, because it is future, any the less contingent; and _determination_, which would be called certainty if it were known, is not incompatible with contingency. Often the certain and the determinate are taken as one thing, because a determinate truth is capable of being [144] known: thus it may be said that determination is an objective certainty. 37. This determination comes from the very nature of truth, and cannot injure freedom: but there are other determinations taken from elsewhere, and in the first place from the foreknowledge of God, which many have held to be contrary to freedom. They say that what is foreseen cannot fail to exist, and they say so truly; but it follows not that what is foreseen is necessary, for _necessary truth_ is that whereof the contrary is impossible or implies contradiction. Now this truth which states that I shall write tomorrow is not of that nature, it is not necessary. Yet supposing that God foresees it, it is necessary that it come to pass; that is, the consequence is necessary, namely, that it exist, since it has been foreseen; for God is infallible. This is what is termed a _hypothetical necessity_. But our concern is not this necessity: it is an _absolute necessity_ that is required, to be able to say that an action is necessary, that it is not contingent, that it is not the effect of a free choice. Besides it is very easily seen that foreknowledge in itself adds nothing to the determination of the truth of contingent futurities, save that this determination is known: and this does not augment the determination or the 'futurition' (as it is termed) of these events, that whereon we agreed at the outset. 38. This answer is doubtless very correct. It is agreed that foreknowledge in itself does not make truth more determinate; truth is foreseen because it is determinate, because it is true; but it is not true because it is foreseen: and therein the knowledge of the future has nothing that is not also in the knowledge of the past or of the present. But here is what an opponent will be able to say: I grant you that foreknowledge in itself does not make truth more determinate, but it is the cause of the foreknowledge that makes it so. For it needs must be that the foreknowledge of God have its foundation in the nature of things, and this foundation, making the truth _predeterminate_, will prevent it from being contingent and free. 39. It is this difficulty that has caused two parties to spring up, one of the _predeterminators_, the other of the supporters of _mediate knowledge_. The Dominicans and the Augustinians are for predetermination, the Franciscans and the modern Jesuits on the other hand are for mediate knowledge. These two parties appeared towards the middle of the sixteenth century and a little later. Molina himself, who is perhaps one of the [145] first, with Fonseca, to have systematized this point, and from whom the others derived their name of Molinists, says in the book that he wrote on the reconciliation of freewill with grace, about the year 1570, that the Spanish doctors (he means principally the Thomists), who had been writing then for twenty years, finding no other way to explain how God could have a certain knowledge of contingent futurities, had introduced predetermination as being necessary to free actions. 40. As for himself, he thought to have found another way. He considers that there are three objects of divine knowledge, the possibles, the actual events and the conditional events that would happen in consequence of a certain condition if it were translated into action. The knowledge of possibilities is what is called the 'knowledge of mere intelligence'; that of events occurring actually in the progress of the universe is called the 'knowledge of intuition'. And as there is a kind of mean between the merely possible and the pure and absolute event, to wit, the conditional event, it can be said also, according to Molina, that there is a mediate knowledge between that of intuition and that of intelligence. Instance is given of the famous example of David asking the divine oracle whether the inhabitants of the town of Keilah, where he designed to shut himself in, would deliver him to Saul, supposing that Saul should besiege the town. God answered yes; whereupon David took a different course. Now some advocates of this mediate knowledge are of opinion that God, foreseeing what men would do of their own accord, supposing they were placed in such and such circumstances, and knowing that they would make ill use of their free will, decrees to refuse them grace and favourable circumstances. And he may justly so decree, since in any case these circumstances and these aids would not have served them aught. But Molina contents himself with finding therein generally a reason for the decrees of God, founded on what the free creature would do in such and such circumstances. 41. I will not enter into all the detail of this controversy; it will suffice for me to give one instance. Certain older writers, not acceptable to St. Augustine and his first disciples, appear to have had ideas somewhat approaching those of Molina. The Thomists and those who call themselves disciples of St. Augustine (but whom their opponents call Jansenists) combat this doctrine on philosophical and theological grounds. Some [146] maintain that mediate knowledge must be included in the knowledge of mere intelligence. But the principal objection is aimed at the foundation of this knowledge. For what foundation can God have for seeing what the people of Keilah would do? A simple contingent and free act has nothing in itself to yield a principle of certainty, unless one look upon it as predetermined by the decrees of God, and by the causes that are dependent upon them. Consequently the difficulty existing in actual free actions will exist also in conditional free actions, that is to say, God will know them only under the condition of their causes and of his decrees, which are the first causes of things: and it will not be possible to separate such actions from those causes so as to know a contingent event in a way that is independent of the knowledge of its causes. Therefore all must of necessity be traced back to the predetermination of God's decrees, and this mediate knowledge (so it will be said) will offer no remedy. The theologians who profess to be adherents of St. Augustine claim also that the system of the Molinists would discover the source of God's grace in the good qualities of man, and this they deem an infringement of God's honour and contrary to St. Paul's teaching. 42. It would be long and wearisome to enter here into the replies and rejoinders coming from one side and the other, and it will suffice for me to explain how I conceive that there is truth on both sides. For this result I resort to my principle of an infinitude of possible worlds, represented in the region of eternal verities, that is, in the object of the divine intelligence, where all conditional futurities must be comprised. For the case of the siege of Keilah forms part of a possible world, _which differs from ours only in all that is connected with this hypothesis_, and the idea of this possible world represents that which would happen in this case. Thus we have a principle for the certain knowledge of contingent futurities, whether they happen actually or must happen in a certain case. For in the region of the possibles they are represented as they are, namely, as free contingencies. Therefore neither the foreknowledge of contingent futurities nor the foundation for the certainty of this foreknowledge should cause us perplexity or seem to prejudice freedom. And though it were true and possible that contingent futurities consisting in free actions of reasonable creatures were entirely independent of the decrees of God and of external causes, there would [147] still be means of foreseeing them; for God would see them as they are in the region of the possibles, before he decrees to admit them into existence. 43. But if the foreknowledge of God has nothing to do with the dependence or independence of our free actions, it is not so with the foreordinance of God, his decrees, and the sequence of causes which, as I believe, always contribute to the determination of the will. And if I am for the Molinists in the first point, I am for the predeterminators in the second, provided always that predetermination be taken as not necessitating. In a word, I am of opinion that the will is always more inclined towards the course it adopts, but that it is never bound by the necessity to adopt it. That it will adopt this course is certain, but it is not necessary. The case corresponds to that of the famous saying, _Astra inclinant, non necessitant_, although here the similarity is not complete. For the event towards which the stars tend (to speak with the common herd, as if there were some foundation for astrology) does not always come to pass, whereas the course towards which the will is more inclined never fails to be adopted. Moreover the stars would form only a part of the inclinations that co-operate in the event, but when one speaks of the greater inclination of the will, one speaks of the result of all the inclinations. It is almost as we have spoken above of the consequent will in God, which results from all the antecedent wills. 44. Nevertheless, objective certainty or determination does not bring about the necessity of the determinate truth. All philosophers acknowledge this, asserting that the truth of contingent futurities is determinate, and that nevertheless they remain contingent. The thing indeed would imply no contradiction in itself if the effect did not follow; and therein lies contingency. The better to understand this point, we must take into account that there are two great principles of our arguments. The one is the principle of _contradiction_, stating that of two contradictory propositions the one is true, the other false; the other principle is that of the _determinant reason_: it states that nothing ever comes to pass without there being a cause or at least a reason determining it, that is, something to give an _a priori_ reason why it is existent rather than non-existent, and in this wise rather than in any other. This great principle holds for all events, and a contrary instance will never be supplied: and although more often than not we are insufficiently [148] acquainted with these determinant reasons, we perceive nevertheless that there are such. Were it not for this great principle we could never prove the existence of God, and we should lose an infinitude of very just and very profitable arguments whereof it is the foundation; moreover, it suffers no exception, for otherwise its force would be weakened. Besides, nothing is so weak as those systems where all is unsteady and full of exceptions. That fault cannot be laid to the charge of the system I approve, where everything happens in accordance with general rules that at most are mutually restrictive. 45. We must therefore not imagine with some Schoolmen, whose ideas tend towards the chimerical, that free contingent futurities have the privilege of exemption from this general rule of the nature of things. There is always a prevailing reason which prompts the will to its choice, and for the maintenance of freedom for the will it suffices that this reason should incline without necessitating. That is also the opinion of all the ancients, of Plato, of Aristotle, of St. Augustine. The will is never prompted to action save by the representation of the good, which prevails over the opposite representations. This is admitted even in relation to God, the good angels and the souls in bliss: and it is acknowledged that they are none the less free in consequence of that. God fails not to choose the best, but he is not constrained so to do: nay, more, there is no necessity in the object of God's choice, for another sequence of things is equally possible. For that very reason the choice is free and independent of necessity, because it is made between several possibles, and the will is determined only by the preponderating goodness of the object. This is therefore not a defect where God and the saints are concerned: on the contrary, it would be a great defect, or rather a manifest absurdity, were it otherwise, even in men here on earth, and if they were capable of acting without any inclining reason. Of such absurdity no example will ever be found; and even supposing one takes a certain course out of caprice, to demonstrate one's freedom, the pleasure or advantage one thinks to find in this conceit is one of the reasons tending towards it. 46. There is therefore a freedom of contingency or, in a way, of indifference, provided that by 'indifference' is understood that nothing necessitates us to one course or the other; but there is never any _indifference of equipoise_, that is, where all is completely even on [149] both sides, without any inclination towards either. Innumerable great and small movements, internal and external, co-operate with us, for the most part unperceived by us. And I have already said that when one leaves a room there are such and such reasons determining us to put the one foot first, without pausing to reflect. For there is not everywhere a slave, as in Trimalchio's house in Petronius, to cry to us: the right foot first. All that we have just said agrees entirely also with the maxims of the philosophers, who teach that a cause cannot act without having a disposition towards action. It is this disposition which contains a predetermination, whether the doer have received it from without, or have had it in consequence of his own antecedent character. 47. Thus we have no need to resort, in company with some new Thomists, to a new immediate predetermination by God, such as may cause the free creature to abandon his indifference, and to a decree of God for predetermining the creature, making it possible for God to know what the creature will do: for it suffices that the creature be predetermined by its preceding state, which inclines it to one course more than to the other. Moreover, all these connexions of the actions of the creature and of all creatures were represented in the divine understanding, and known to God through the knowledge of mere intelligence, before he had decreed to give them existence. Thus we see that, in order to account for the foreknowledge of God, one may dispense with both the mediate knowledge of the Molinists and the predetermination which a Bañez or an Alvarez (writers otherwise of great profundity) have taught. 48. By this false idea of an indifference of equipoise the Molinists were much embarrassed. They were asked not only how it was possible to know in what direction a cause absolutely indeterminate would be determined, but also how it was possible that there should finally result therefrom a determination for which there is no source: to say with Molina that it is the privilege of the free cause is to say nothing, but simply to grant that cause the privilege of being chimerical. It is pleasing to see their harassed efforts to emerge from a labyrinth whence there is absolutely no means of egress. Some teach that the will, before it is determined formally, must be determined virtually, in order to emerge from its state of equipoise; and Father Louis of Dole, in his book on the _Co-operation of God_, quotes Molinists who attempt to take refuge in this expedient: [150] for they are compelled to acknowledge that the cause must needs be disposed to act. But they gain nothing, they only defer the difficulty: for they will still be asked how the free cause comes to be determined virtually. They will therefore never extricate themselves without acknowledging that there is a predetermination in the preceding state of the free creature, which inclines it to be determined. 49. In consequence of this, the case also of Buridan's ass between two meadows, impelled equally towards both of them, is a fiction that cannot occur in the universe, in the order of Nature, although M. Bayle be of another opinion. It is true that, if the case were possible, one must say that the ass would starve himself to death: but fundamentally the question deals in the impossible, unless it be that God bring the thing about expressly. For the universe cannot be halved by a plane drawn through the middle of the ass, which is cut vertically through its length, so that all is equal and alike on both sides, in the manner wherein an ellipse, and every plane figure of the number of those I term 'ambidexter', can be thus halved, by any straight line passing through its centre. Neither the parts of the universe nor the viscera of the animal are alike nor are they evenly placed on both sides of this vertical plane. There will therefore always be many things in the ass and outside the ass, although they be not apparent to us, which will determine him to go on one side rather than the other. And although man is free, and the ass is not, nevertheless for the same reason it must be true that in man likewise the case of a perfect equipoise between two courses is impossible. Furthermore it is true that an angel, or God certainly, could always account for the course man has adopted, by assigning a cause or a predisposing reason which has actually induced him to adopt it: yet this reason would often be complex and incomprehensible to ourselves, because the concatenation of causes linked together is very long. 50. Hence it is that the reason M. Descartes has advanced to prove the independence of our free actions, by what he terms an intense inward sensation, has no force. We cannot properly speaking be sensible of our independence, and we are not aware always of the causes, often imperceptible, whereon our resolution depends. It is as though the magnetic needle took pleasure in turning towards the north: for it would think that it was turning independently of any other cause, not being aware of the imperceptible movements of the magnetic matter. Nevertheless we shall [151] see later in what sense it is quite true that the human soul is altogether its own natural principle in relation to its actions, dependent upon itself and independent of all other creatures. 51. As for _volition_ itself, to say that it is an object of free will is incorrect. We will to act, strictly speaking, and we do not will to will; else we could still say that we will to have the will to will, and that would go on to infinity. Besides, we do not always follow the latest judgement of practical understanding when we resolve to will; but we always follow, in our willing, the result of all the inclinations that come from the direction both of reasons and passions, and this often happens without an express judgement of the understanding. 52. All is therefore certain and determined beforehand in man, as everywhere else, and the human soul is a kind of _spiritual automaton_, although contingent actions in general and free action in particular are not on that account necessary with an absolute necessity, which would be truly incompatible with contingency. Thus neither futurition in itself, certain as it is, nor the infallible prevision of God, nor the predetermination either of causes or of God's decrees destroys this contingency and this freedom. That is acknowledged in respect of futurition and prevision, as has already been set forth. Since, moreover, God's decree consists solely in the resolution he forms, after having compared all possible worlds, to choose that one which is the best, and bring it into existence together with all that this world contains, by means of the all-powerful word _Fiat_, it is plain to see that this decree changes nothing in the constitution of things: God leaves them just as they were in the state of mere possibility, that is, changing nothing either in their essence or nature, or even in their accidents, which are represented perfectly already in the idea of this possible world. Thus that which is contingent and free remains no less so under the decrees of God than under his prevision. 53. But could God himself (it will be said) then change nothing in the world? Assuredly he could not now change it, without derogation to his wisdom, since he has foreseen the existence of this world and of what it contains, and since, likewise, he has formed this resolution to bring it into existence: for he cannot be mistaken nor repent, and it did not behove him to from an imperfect resolution applying to one part and not the [152] whole. Thus, all being ordered from the beginning, it is only because of this hypothetical necessity, recognized by everyone, that after God's prevision or after his resolution nothing can be changed: and yet the events in themselves remain contingent. For (setting aside this supposition of the futurition of the thing and of the prevision or of the resolution of God, a supposition which already lays it down as a fact that the thing will happen, and in accordance with which one must say, 'Unumquodque, quando est, oportet esse, aut unumquodque, siquidem erit, oportet futurum esse'), the event has nothing in it to render it necessary and to suggest that no other thing might have happened in its stead. And as for the connexion between causes and effects, it only inclined, without necessitating, the free agency, as I have just explained; thus it does not produce even a hypothetical necessity, save in conjunction with something from outside, to wit, this very maxim, that the prevailing inclination always triumphs. 54. It will be said also that, if all is ordered, God cannot then perform miracles. But one must bear in mind that the miracles which happen in the world were also enfolded and represented as possible in this same world considered in the state of mere possibility; and God, who has since performed them, when he chose this world had even then decreed to perform them. Again the objection will be made that vows and prayers, merits and demerits, good and bad actions avail nothing, since nothing can be changed. This objection causes most perplexity to people in general, and yet it is purely a sophism. These prayers, these vows, these good or bad actions that occur to-day were already before God when he formed the resolution to order things. Those things which happen in this existing world were represented, with their effects and their consequences, in the idea of this same world, while it was still possible only; they were represented therein, attracting God's grace whether natural or supernatural, requiring punishments or rewards, just as it has happened actually in this world since God chose it. The prayer or the good action were even then an _ideal cause_ or _condition_, that is, an inclining reason able to contribute to the grace of God, or to the reward, as it now does in reality. Since, moreover, all is wisely connected together in the world, it is clear that God, foreseeing that which would happen freely, ordered all other things on that basis beforehand, or (what is the same) he chose that possible world in [153] which everything was ordered in this fashion. 55. This consideration demolishes at the same time what the ancients called the 'Lazy Sophism' ([Greek: logos argos]) which ended in a decision to do nothing: for (people would say) if what I ask is to happen it will happen even though I should do nothing; and if it is not to happen it will never happen, no matter what trouble I take to achieve it. This necessity, supposedly existent in events, and detached from their causes, might be termed _Fatum Mahometanum_, as I have already observed above, because a similar line of reasoning, so it is said, causes the Turks not to shun places ravaged by plague. But the answer is quite ready: the effect being certain, the cause that shall produce it is certain also; and if the effect comes about it will be by virtue of a proportionate cause. Thus your laziness perchance will bring it about that you will obtain naught of what you desire, and that you will fall into those misfortunes which you would by acting with care have avoided. We see, therefore, that the _connexion of causes with effects_, far from causing an unendurable fatality, provides rather a means of obviating it. There is a German proverb which says that death will ever have a cause; and nothing is so true. You will die on that day (let us presume it is so, and that God foresees it): yes, without doubt; but it will be because you will do what shall lead you thither. It is likewise with the chastisements of God, which also depend upon their causes. And it will be apposite in this connexion to quote this famous passage from St. Ambrose (in cap. I _Lucae_), 'Novit Dominus mutare sententiam, si tu noveris mutare delictum', which is not to be understood as of reprobation, but of denunciation, such as that which Jonah dealt out for God to the Ninevites. This common saying: 'Si non es praedestinatus, fac ut praedestineris', must not be taken literally, its true sense being that he who has doubts of his predestination need only do what is required for him to obtain it by the grace of God. The sophism which ends in a decision to trouble oneself over nothing will haply be useful sometimes to induce certain people to face danger fearlessly. It has been applied in particular to Turkish soldiers: but it seems that hashish is a more important factor than this sophism, not to mention the fact that this resolute spirit in the Turks has greatly belied itself in our days. 56. A learned physician of Holland named Johan van Beverwyck took the trouble to write _De Termino Vitae_ and to collect sundry answers, [154] letters and discourses of some learned men of his time on this subject. This collection has been printed, and it is astonishing to see there how often people are misled, and how they have confused a problem which, properly speaking, is the easiest in the world. After that it is no wonder that there are very many doubts which the human race cannot abandon. The truth is that people love to lose themselves, and this is a kind of ramble of the mind, which is unwilling to subject itself to attention, to order, to rules. It seems as though we are so accustomed to games and jesting that we play the fool even in the most serious occupations, and when we least think to do so. 57. I fear that in the recent dispute between the theologians of the Augsburg Confession, _De Termino Paenitentiae Peremptorio_, which has called forth so many treatises in Germany, some misunderstanding, though of a different nature, has slipped in. The terms prescribed by the laws are amongst lawyers known as _fatalia_. It may be said, in a sense, that the _peremptory term_, prescribed to man for his repentance and amendment, is certain in the sight of God, with whom all is certain. God knows when a sinner will be so hardened that thereafter nothing can be done for him: not indeed that it would be impossible for him to do penance or that sufficient grace needs must be refused to him after a certain term, a grace that never fails; but because there will be a time whereafter he will no more approach the ways of salvation. But we never have certain marks for recognizing this term, and we are never justified in considering a man utterly abandoned: that would be to pass a rash judgement. It were better always to have room for hope; and this is an occasion, with a thousand others, where our ignorance is beneficial. _Prudens futuri temporis exitum_ _Caliginosa nocte premit Deus_. 58. The whole future is doubtless determined: but since we know not what it is, nor what is foreseen or resolved, we must do our duty, according to the reason that God has given us and according to the rules that he has prescribed for us; and thereafter we must have a quiet mind, and leave to God himself the care for the outcome. For he will never fail to do that which shall be the best, not only in general but also in particular, for those who have true confidence in him, that is, a confidence composed [155] of true piety, a lively faith and fervent charity, by virtue of which we will, as far as in us lies, neglect nothing appertaining to our duty and his service. It is true that we cannot 'render service' to him, for he has need of nothing: but it is 'serving him', in our parlance, when we strive to carry out his presumptive will, co-operating in the good as it is known to us, wherever we can contribute thereto. For we must always presume that God is prompted towards the good we know, until the event shows us that he had stronger reasons, although perhaps unknown to us, which have made him subordinate this good that we sought to some other greater good of his own designing, which he has not failed or will not fail to effect. 59. I have just shown how the action of the will depends upon its causes; that there is nothing so appropriate to human nature as this dependence of our actions; and that otherwise one would slip into a preposterous and unendurable fatality, namely into the _Fatum Mahometanum_, which is the worst of all because it overthrows foresight and good counsel. It is well to show, notwithstanding, how this dependence of voluntary actions does not fundamentally preclude the existence within us of a wonderful _spontaneity_, which in a certain sense makes the soul in its resolves independent of the physical influence of all other creatures. This spontaneity, hitherto little recognized, which exalts our command over our actions to the highest pitch, is a consequence of the System of Pre-established Harmony, of which I must give some explanation here. The Scholastic philosophers believed that there was a reciprocal physical influence between body and soul: but since it has been recognized that thought and dimensional mass have no mutual connexion, and that they are creatures differing _toto genere_, many moderns have acknowledged that there is no _physical communication_ between soul and body, despite the _metaphysical communication_ always subsisting, which causes soul and body to compose one and the same _suppositum_, or what is called a person. This physical communication, if there were such, would cause the soul to change the degree of speed and the directional line of some motions that are in the body, and _vice versa_ the body to change the sequence of the thoughts that are in the soul. But this effect cannot be inferred from any notion conceived in the body and in the soul; though nothing be better known to us than the soul, since it is inmost to us, that is to say inmost to itself. [156] 60. M. Descartes wished to compromise and to make a part of the body's action dependent upon the soul. He believed in the existence of a rule of Nature to the effect, according to him, that the same quantity of movement is conserved in bodies. He deemed it not possible that the influence of the soul should violate this law of bodies, but he believed that the soul notwithstanding might have power to change the direction of the movements that are made in the body; much as a rider, though giving no force to the horse he mounts, nevertheless controls it by guiding that force in any direction he pleases. But as that is done by means of the bridle, the bit, the spurs and other material aids, it is conceivable how that can be; there are, however, no instruments such as the soul may employ for this result, nothing indeed either in the soul or in the body, that is, either in thought or in the mass, which may serve to explain this change of the one by the other. In a word, that the soul should change the quantity of force and that it should change the line of direction, both these things are equally inexplicable. 61. Moreover, two important truths on this subject have been discovered since M. Descartes' day. The first is that the quantity of absolute force which is in fact conserved is different from the quantity of movement, as I have demonstrated elsewhere. The second discovery is that the same direction is still conserved in all bodies together that are assumed as interacting, in whatever way they come into collision. If this rule had been known to M. Descartes, he would have taken the direction of bodies to be as independent of the soul as their force; and I believe that that would have led direct to the Hypothesis of Pre-established Harmony, whither these same rules have led me. For apart from the fact that the physical influence of one of these substances on the other is inexplicable, I recognized that without a complete derangement of the laws of Nature the soul could not act physically upon the body. And I did not believe that one could here listen to philosophers, competent in other respects, who produce a God, as it were, _ex machina_, to bring about the final solution of the piece, maintaining that God exerts himself deliberately to move bodies as the soul pleases, and to give perceptions to the soul as the body requires. For this system, which is called that of _occasional causes_ (because it teaches that God acts on the body at the instance of the soul, and _vice versa_), besides introducing perpetual miracles to establish communication [157] between these two substances, does not obviate the derangement of the natural laws obtaining in each of these same substances, which, in the general opinion, their mutual influence would cause. 62. Being on other considerations already convinced of the principle of Harmony in general, I was in consequence convinced likewise of the _preformation_ and the Pre-established Harmony of all things amongst themselves, of that between nature and grace, between the decrees of God and our actions foreseen, between all parts of matter, and even between the future and the past, the whole in conformity with the sovereign wisdom of God, whose works are the most harmonious it is possible to conceive. Thus I could not fail to arrive at the system which declares that God created the soul in the beginning in such a fashion that it must produce and represent to itself successively that which takes place within the body, and the body also in such a fashion that it must do of itself that which the soul ordains. Consequently the laws that connect the thoughts of the soul in the order of final causes and in accordance with the evolution of perceptions must produce pictures that meet and harmonize with the impressions of bodies on our organs; and likewise the laws of movements in the body, which follow one another in the order of efficient causes, meet and so harmonize with the thoughts of the soul that the body is induced to act at the time when the soul wills it. 63. Far from its being prejudicial, nothing can be more favourable to freedom than that system. And M. Jacquelot has demonstrated well in his book on the _Conformity of Faith with Reason_, that it is just as if he who knows all that I shall order a servant to do the whole day long on the morrow made an automaton entirely resembling this servant, to carry out to-morrow at the right moment all that I should order; and yet that would not prevent me from ordering freely all that I should please, although the action of the automaton that would serve me would not be in the least free. 64. Moreover, since all that passes in the soul depends, according to this system, only upon the soul, and its subsequent state is derived only from it and from its present state, how can one give it a greater _independence_? It is true that there still remains some imperfection in the constitution of the soul. All that happens to the soul depends upon it, but depends not always upon its will; that were too much. Nor are such[158] happenings even recognized always by its understanding or perceived with distinctness. For there is in the soul not only an order of distinct perceptions, forming its dominion, but also a series of confused perceptions or passions, forming its bondage: and there is no need for astonishment at that; the soul would be a Divinity if it had none but distinct perceptions. It has nevertheless some power over these confused perceptions also, even if in an indirect manner. For although it cannot change its passions forthwith, it can work from afar towards that end with enough success, and endue itself with new passions and even habits. It even has a like power over the more distinct perceptions, being able to endue itself indirectly with opinions and intentions, and to hinder itself from having this one or that, and stay or hasten its judgement. For we can seek means beforehand to arrest ourselves, when occasion arises, on the sliding step of a rash judgement; we can find some incident to justify postponement of our resolution even at the moment when the matter appears ready to be judged. Although our opinion and our act of willing be not directly objects of our will (as I have already observed), one sometimes, takes measures nevertheless, to will and even to believe in due time, that which one does not will, or believe, now. So great is the profundity of the spirit of man. 65. And now, to bring to a conclusion this question of _spontaneity_, it must be said that, on a rigorous definition, the soul has within it the principle of all its actions, and even of all its passions, and that the same is true in all the simple substances scattered throughout Nature, although there be freedom only in those that are intelligent. In the popular sense notwithstanding, speaking in accordance with appearances, we must say that the soul depends in some way upon the body and upon the impressions of the senses: much as we speak with Ptolemy and Tycho in everyday converse, and think with Copernicus, when it is a question of the rising and the setting of the sun. 66. One may however give a true and philosophic sense to this _mutual dependence_ which we suppose between the soul and the body. It is that the one of these two substances depends upon the other ideally, in so far as the reason of that which is done in the one can be furnished by that which is in the other. This had already happened when God ordered beforehand the harmony that there would be between them. Even so would that [159] automaton, that should fulfil the servant's function, depend upon me _ideally_, in virtue of the knowledge of him who, foreseeing my future orders, would have rendered it capable of serving me at the right moment all through the morrow. The knowledge of my future intentions would have actuated this great craftsman, who would accordingly have fashioned the automaton: my influence would be objective, and his physical. For in so far as the soul has perfection and distinct thoughts, God has accommodated the body to the soul, and has arranged beforehand that the body is impelled to execute its orders. And in so far as the soul is imperfect and as its perceptions are confused, God has accommodated the soul to the body, in such sort that the soul is swayed by the passions arising out of corporeal representations. This produces the same effect and the same appearance as if the one depended immediately upon the other, and by the agency of a physical influence. Properly speaking, it is by its confused thoughts that the soul represents the bodies which encompass it. The same thing must apply to all that we understand by the actions of simple substances one upon another. For each one is assumed to act upon the other in proportion to its perfection, although this be only ideally, and in the reasons of things, as God in the beginning ordered one substance to accord with another in proportion to the perfection or imperfection that there is in each. (Withal action and passion are always reciprocal in creatures, because one part of the reasons which serve to explain clearly what is done, and which have served to bring it into existence, is in the one of these substances, and another part of these reasons is in the other, perfections and imperfections being always mingled and shared.) Thus it is we attribute _action_ to the one, and _passion_ to the other. 67. But after all, whatsoever dependence be conceived in voluntary actions, and even though there were an absolute and mathematical necessity (which there is not) it would not follow that there would not be a sufficient degree of freedom to render rewards and punishments just and reasonable. It is true that generally we speak as though the necessity of the action put an end to all merit and all demerit, all justification for praise and blame, for reward and punishment: but it must be admitted that this conclusion is not entirely correct. I am very far from sharing the opinions of Bradwardine, Wyclif, Hobbes and Spinoza, who advocate, so it seems,[160] this entirely mathematical necessity, which I think I have adequately refuted, and perhaps more clearly than is customary. Yet one must always bear testimony to the truth and not impute to a dogma anything that does not result from it. Moreover, these arguments prove too much, since they would prove just as much against hypothetical necessity, and would justify the lazy sophism. For the absolute necessity of the sequence of causes would in this matter add nothing to the infallible certainty of a hypothetical necessity. 68. In the first place, therefore, it must be agreed that it is permitted to kill a madman when one cannot by other means defend oneself. It will be granted also that it is permitted, and often even necessary, to destroy venomous or very noxious animals, although they be not so by their own fault. 69. Secondly, one inflicts punishments upon a beast, despite its lack of reason and freedom, when one deems that this may serve to correct it: thus one punishes dogs and horses, and indeed with much success. Rewards serve us no less in the managing of animals: when an animal is hungry, the food that is given to him causes him to do what otherwise would never be obtained from him. 70. Thirdly, one would inflict even on beasts capital punishments (where it is no longer a question of correcting the beast that is punished) if this punishment could serve as an example, or inspire terror in others, to make them cease from evil doing. Rorarius, in his book on reason in beasts, says that in Africa they crucified lions, in order to drive away other lions from the towns and frequented places, and that he had observed in passing through the province of Jülich that they hanged wolves there in order to ensure greater safety for the sheepfolds. There are people in the villages also who nail birds of prey to the doors of houses, with the idea that other birds of the same kind will then not so readily appear. These measures would always be justified if they were of any avail. 71. Then, in the fourth place, since experience proves that the fear of chastisements and the hope of rewards serves to make men abstain from evil and strive to do good, one would have good reason to avail oneself of such, even though men were acting under necessity, whatever the necessity might be. The objection will be raised that if good or evil is necessary it is useless to avail oneself of means to obtain it or to hinder it: but the answer has already been given above in the passage combating the lazy [161] sophism. If good or evil were a necessity without these means, then such means would be unavailing; but it is not so. These goods and evils come only with the aid of these means, and if these results were necessary the means would be a part of the causes rendering them necessary, since experience teaches us that often fear or hope hinders evil or advances good. This objection, then, differs hardly at all from the lazy sophism, which we raise against the certainty as well as the necessity of future events. Thus one may say that these objections are directed equally against hypothetical necessity and absolute necessity, and that they prove as much against the one as against the other, that is to say, nothing at all. 72. There was a great dispute between Bishop Bramhall and Mr. Hobbes, which began when they were both in Paris, and which was continued after their return to England; all the parts of it are to be found collected in a quarto volume published in London in the year 1656. They are all in English, and have not been translated as far as I know, nor inserted in the Collection of Works in Latin by Mr. Hobbes. I had already read these writings, and have obtained them again since. And I had observed at the outset that he had not at all proved the absolute necessity of all things, but had shown sufficiently that necessity would not overthrow all the rules of divine or human justice, and would not prevent altogether the exercise of this virtue. 73. There is, however, a kind of justice and a certain sort of rewards and of punishments which appear not so applicable to those who should act by an absolute necessity, supposing such necessity existed. It is that kind of justice which has for its goal neither improvement nor example, nor even redress of the evil. This justice has its foundation only in the fitness of things, which demands a certain satisfaction for the expiation of an evil action. The Socinians, Hobbes and some others do not admit this punitive justice, which properly speaking is avenging justice. God reserves it for himself in many cases; but he does not fail to grant it to those who are entitled to govern others, and he exercises it through their agency, provided that they act under the influence of reason and not of passion. The Socinians believe it to be without foundation, but it always has some foundation in that fitness of things which gives satisfaction not only to the injured but also to the wise who see it; even as a beautiful piece of music, or again a good piece of architecture, satisfies cultivated [162] minds. And the wise lawgiver having threatened, and having, so to speak, promised a chastisement, it befits his consistency not to leave the action completely unpunished, even though the punishment would no longer avail to correct anyone. But even though he should have promised nothing, it is enough that there is a fitness of things which could have prompted him to make this promise, since the wise man likewise promises only that which is fitting. And one may even say that there is here a certain compensation of the mind, which would be scandalized by disorder if the chastisement did not contribute towards restoring order. One can also consult what Grotius wrote against the Socinians, of the satisfaction of Jesus Christ, and the answer of Crellius thereto. 74. Thus it is that the pains of the damned continue, even when they no longer serve to turn them away from evil, and that likewise the rewards of the blessed continue, even when they no longer serve for strengthening them in good. One may say nevertheless that the damned ever bring upon themselves new pains through new sins, and that the blessed ever bring upon themselves new joys by new progress in goodness: for both are founded on the _principle of the fitness of things_, which has seen to it that affairs were so ordered that the evil action must bring upon itself a chastisement. There is good reason to believe, following the parallelism of the two realms, that of final causes and that of efficient causes, that God has established in the universe a connexion between punishment or reward and bad or good action, in accordance wherewith the first should always be attracted by the second, and virtue and vice obtain their reward and their punishment in consequence of the natural sequence of things, which contains still another kind of pre-established harmony than that which appears in the communication between the soul and the body. For, in a word, all that God does, as I have said already, is harmonious to perfection. Perhaps then this principle of the fitness of things would no longer apply to beings acting without true freedom or exemption from absolute necessity; and in that case corrective justice alone would be administered, and not punitive justice. That is the opinion of the famous Conringius, in a dissertation he published on what is just. And indeed, the reasons Pomponazzi employed in his book on fate, to prove the usefulness of chastisements and rewards, even though all should come about in our actions by a fatal necessity,[163] concern only amendment and not satisfaction, [Greek: kolasin ou timôrian]. Moreover, it is only for the sake of outward appearances that one destroys animals accessary to certain crimes, as one razes the houses of rebels, that is, to inspire terror. Thus it is an act of corrective justice, wherein punitive justice has no part at all. 75. But we will not amuse ourselves now by discussing a question more curious than necessary, since we have shown sufficiently that there is no such necessity in voluntary actions. Nevertheless it was well to show that _imperfect freedom_ alone, that is, freedom which is exempt only from constraint, would suffice as foundation for chastisements and rewards of the kind conducive to the avoidance of evil, and to amendment. One sees also from this that some persons of intelligence, who persuade themselves that everything is necessary, are wrong in saying that none must be praised or blamed, rewarded or punished. Apparently they say so only to exercise their wit: the pretext is that all being necessary nothing would be in our power. But this pretext is ill founded: necessary actions would be still in our power, at least in so far as we could perform them or omit them, when the hope or the fear of praise or blame, of pleasure or pain prompted our will thereto, whether they prompted it of necessity, or in prompting it they left spontaneity, contingency and freedom all alike unimpaired. Thus praise and blame, rewards and punishments would preserve always a large part of their use, even though there were a true necessity in our actions. We can praise and blame also natural good and bad qualities, where the will has no part--in a horse, in a diamond, in a man; and he who said of Cato of Utica that he acted virtuously through the goodness of his nature, and that it was impossible for him to behave otherwise, thought to praise him the more. 76. The difficulties which I have endeavoured up to now to remove have been almost all common to natural and revealed theology. Now it will be necessary to come to a question of revealed theology, concerning the election or the reprobation of men, with the dispensation or use of divine grace in connexion with these acts of the mercy or the justice of God. But when I answered the preceding objections, I opened up a way to meet those that remain. This confirms the observation I made thereon (_Preliminary Dissertation,_ 43) that there is rather a conflict between the true [164] reasons of natural theology and the false reasons of human appearances, than between revealed faith and reason. For on this subject scarcely any difficulty arises that is new, and not deriving its origin from those which can be placed in the way of the truths discerned by reason. 77. Now as theologians of all parties are divided among themselves on this subject of predestination and grace, and often give different answers to the same objections, according to their various principles, one cannot avoid touching on the differences which prevail among them. One may say in general that some look upon God more metaphysically and others more morally: and it has already been stated on other occasions that the Counter-Remonstrants took the first course and the Remonstrants the second. But to act rightly we must affirm alike on one side the independence of God and the dependence of creatures, and on the other side the justice and goodness of God, which makes him dependent upon himself, his will upon his understanding or his wisdom. 78. Some gifted and well-intentioned authors, desiring to show the force of the reasons advocated by the two principal parties, in order to persuade them to a mutual tolerance, deem that the whole controversy is reduced to this essential point, namely: What was God's principal aim in making his decrees with regard to man? Did he make them solely in order to show forth his glory by manifesting his attributes, and forming, to that end, the great plan of creation and providence? Or has he had regard rather to the voluntary movements of intelligent substances which he designed to create, considering what they would will and do in the different circumstances and situations wherein he might place them, so as to form a fitting resolve thereupon? It appears to me that the two answers to this great question thus given as opposites to one another are easy to reconcile, and that in consequence the two parties would be agreed in principle, without any need of tolerance, if all were reduced to this point. In truth God, in designing to create the world, purposed solely to manifest and communicate his perfections in the way that was most efficacious, and most worthy of his greatness, his wisdom and his goodness. But that very purpose pledged him to consider all the actions of creatures while still in the state of pure possibility, that he might form the most fitting plan. He is like a great architect whose aim in view is the satisfaction or the glory of having[165] built a beautiful palace, and who considers all that is to enter into this construction: the form and the materials, the place, the situation, the means, the workmen, the expense, before he forms a complete resolve. For a wise person in laying his plans cannot separate the end from the means; he does not contemplate any end without knowing if there are means of attaining thereto. 79. I know not whether there are also perchance persons who imagine that, God being the absolute master of all things, one can thence infer that everything outside him is indifferent to him, that he considers himself alone, without concern for others, and that thus he has made some happy and others unhappy without any cause, without choice, without reason. But to teach so about God were to deprive him of wisdom and of goodness. We need only observe that he considers himself and neglects nothing of what he owes to himself, to conclude that he considers his creatures also, and that he uses them in the manner most consistent with order. For the more a great and good prince is mindful of his glory, the more he will think of making his subjects happy, even though he were the most absolute of all monarchs, and though his subjects were slaves from birth, bondsmen (in lawyers' parlance), people entirely in subjection to arbitrary power. Calvin himself and some others of the greatest defenders of the absolute decree rightly maintained that God had _great and just reasons_ for his election and the dispensation of his grace, although these reasons be unknown to us in detail: and we must judge charitably that the most rigid predestinators have too much reason and too much piety to depart from this opinion. 80. There will therefore be no argument for debate on that point (as I hope) with people who are at all reasonable. But there will always be argument among those who are called Universalists and Particularists, according to what they teach of the grace and the will of God. Yet I am somewhat inclined to believe that the heated dispute between them on the will of God to save all men, and on that which depends upon it (when one keeps separate the doctrine _de Auxiliis_, or of the assistance of grace), rests rather in expressions than in things. For it is sufficient to consider that God, as well as every wise and beneficent mind, is inclined towards all possible good, and that this inclination is proportionate to the excellence of the good. Moreover, this results (if we take the [166] matter precisely and in itself) from an 'antecedent will', as it is termed, which, however, is not always followed by its complete effect, because this wise mind must have many other inclinations besides. Thus it is the result of all the inclinations together that makes his will complete and decretory, as I have already explained. One may therefore very well say with ancient writers that God wills to save all men according to his antecedent will, but not according to his consequent will, which never fails to be followed by its effect. And if those who deny this universal will do not allow that the antecedent inclination be called a will, they are only troubling themselves about a question of name. 81. But there is a question more serious in regard to predestination to eternal life and to all other destination by God, to wit, whether this destination is absolute or respective. There is destination to good and destination to evil; and as evil is moral or physical, theologians of all parties agree that there is no destination to moral evil, that is to say, that none is destined to sin. As for the greatest physical evil, which is damnation, one can distinguish between destination and predestination: for predestination appears to contain within itself an absolute destination, which is anterior to the consideration of the good or evil actions of those whom it concerns. Thus one may say that the reprobate are _destined_ to be condemned, because they are known to be impenitent. But it cannot so well be said that the reprobate are _predestined_ to damnation: for there is no _absolute_ reprobation, its foundation being final foreseen impenitence. 82. It is true that there are writers who maintain that God, wishing to manifest his mercy and his justice in accordance with reasons worthy of him, but unknown to us, chose the elect, and in consequence rejected the damned, prior to all thought of sin, even of Adam, that after this resolve he thought fit to permit sin in order to be able to exercise these two virtues, and that he has bestowed grace in Jesus Christ to some in order to save them, while he has refused it to others in order to be able to punish them. Hence these writers are named 'Supralapsarians', because the decree to punish precedes, according to them, the knowledge of the future existence of sin. But the opinion most common to-day amongst those who are called Reformed, and one that is favoured by the Synod of Dordrecht, is that of the 'Infralapsarians', corresponding somewhat to the conception of St. Augustine. For he asserts that God having resolved to permit the [167] sin of Adam and the corruption of the human race, for reasons just but hidden, his mercy made him choose some of the corrupt mass to be freely saved by the merit of Jesus Christ, and his justice made him resolve to punish the others by the damnation that they deserved. That is why, with the Schoolmen, only the saved were called _Praedestinati_ and the damned were called _Praesciti_. It must be admitted that some Infralapsarians and others speak sometimes of predestination to damnation, following the example of Fulgentius and of St. Augustine himself: but that signifies the same as destination to them, and it avails nothing to wrangle about words. That pretext, notwithstanding, was in time past used for maltreating that Godescalc who caused a stir about the middle of the ninth century, and who took the name of Fulgentius to indicate that he followed that author. 83. As for the destination of the elect to eternal life, the Protestants, as well as those of the Roman Church, dispute much among themselves as to whether election is absolute or is founded on the prevision of final living faith. Those who are called Evangelicals, that is, those of the Augsburg Confession, hold the latter opinion: they believe that one need not go into the hidden causes of election while one may find a manifest cause of it shown in Holy Scripture, which is faith in Jesus Christ; and it appears to them that the prevision of the cause is also the cause of the prevision of the effect. Those who are called Reformed are of a different opinion: they admit that salvation comes from faith in Jesus Christ, but they observe that often the cause anterior to the effect in execution is posterior in intention, as when the cause is the means and the effect is the end. Thus the question is, whether faith or salvation is anterior in the intention of God, that is, whether God's design is rather to save man than to make him a believer. 84. Hence we see that the question between the Supralapsarians and the Infralapsarians in part, and again between them and the Evangelicals, comes back to a right conception of the order that is in God's decrees. Perhaps one might put an end to this dispute at once by saying that, properly speaking, all the decrees of God that are here concerned are simultaneous, not only in respect of time, as everyone agrees, but also _in signo rationis_, or in the order of nature. And indeed, the Formula of Concord, building upon some passages of St. Augustine, comprised in the same [168] Decree of Election salvation and the means that conduce to it. To demonstrate this synchronism of destinations or of decrees with which we are concerned, we must revert to the expedient that I have employed more than once, which states that God, before decreeing anything, considered among other possible sequences of things that one which he afterwards approved. In the idea of this is represented how the first parents sin and corrupt their posterity; how Jesus Christ redeems the human race; how some, aided by such and such graces, attain to final faith and to salvation; and how others, with or without such or other graces, do not attain thereto, continue in sin, and are damned. God grants his sanction to this sequence only after having entered into all its detail, and thus pronounces nothing final as to those who shall be saved or damned without having pondered upon everything and compared it with other possible sequences. Thus God's pronouncement concerns the whole sequence at the same time; he simply decrees its existence. In order to save other men, or in a different way, he must needs choose an altogether different sequence, seeing that all is connected in each sequence. In this conception of the matter, which is that most worthy of the All-wise, all whose actions are connected together to the highest possible degree, there would be only one total decree, which is to create such a world. This total decree comprises equally all the particular decrees, without setting one of them before or after another. Yet one may say also that each particular act of antecedent will entering into the total result has its value and order, in proportion to the good whereto this act inclines. But these acts of antecedent will are not called decrees, since they are not yet inevitable, the outcome depending upon the total result. According to this conception of things, all the difficulties that can here be made amount to the same as those I have already stated and removed in my inquiry concerning the origin of evil. 85. There remains only one important matter of discussion, which has its peculiar difficulties. It is that of the dispensation of the means and circumstances contributing to salvation and to damnation. This comprises amongst others the subject of the Aids of Grace (_de auxiliis gratiae_), on which Rome (since the Congregation _de Auxiliis_ under Clement VIII, when a debate took place between the Dominicans and the Jesuits) does not readily permit books to be published. Everyone must agree that God is [169] altogether good and just, that his goodness makes him contribute the least possible to that which can render men guilty, and the most possible to that which serves to save them (possible, I say, subject to the general order of things); that his justice prevents him from condemning innocent men, and from leaving good actions without reward; and that he even keeps an exact proportion in punishments and rewards. Nevertheless, this idea that one should have of the goodness and the justice of God does not appear enough in what we know of his actions with regard to the salvation and the damnation of men: and it is that which makes difficulties concerning sin and its remedies. 86. The first difficulty is how the soul could be infected with original sin, which is the root of actual sins, without injustice on God's part in exposing the soul thereto. This difficulty has given rise to three opinions on the origin of the soul itself. The first is that of the _pre-existence of human souls_ in another world or in another life, where they had sinned and on that account had been condemned to this prison of the human body, an opinion of the Platonists which is attributed to Origen and which even to-day finds adherents. Henry More, an English scholar, advocated something like this dogma in a book written with that express purpose. Some of those who affirm this pre-existence have gone as far as metempsychosis. The younger van Helmont held this opinion, and the ingenious author of some metaphysical _Meditations_, published in 1678 under the name of William Wander, appears to have some leaning towards it. The second opinion is that of _Traduction_, as if the soul of children were engendered (_per traducem_) from the soul or souls of those from whom the body is engendered. St. Augustine inclined to this judgement the better to explain original sin. This doctrine is taught also by most of the theologians of the Augsburg Confession. Nevertheless it is not completely established among them, since the Universities of Jena and Helmstedt, and others besides, have long been opposed to it. The third opinion, and that most widely accepted to-day, is that of _Creation_: it is taught in the majority of the Christian Schools, but it is fraught with the greatest difficulty in respect of original sin. 87. Into this controversy of theologians on the origin of the human soul has entered the philosophic dispute on _the origin of forms._ Aristotle and scholastic philosophy after him called _Form_ that which is a [170] principle of action and is found in that which acts. This inward principle is either substantial, being then termed 'Soul', when it is in an organic body, or accidental, and customarily termed 'Quality'. The same philosopher gave to the soul the generic name of 'Entelechy' or _Act_. This word 'Entelechy' apparently takes its origin from the Greek word signifying 'perfect', and hence the celebrated Ermolao Barbaro expressed it literally in Latin by _perfectihabia_: for Act is a realization of potency. And he had no need to consult the Devil, as men say he did, in order to learn that. Now the Philosopher of Stagira supposes that there are two kinds of Act, the permanent act and the successive act. The permanent or lasting act is nothing but the Substantial or Accidental Form: the substantial form (as for example the soul) is altogether permanent, at least according to my judgement, and the accidental is only so for a time. But the altogether momentary act, whose nature is transitory, consists in action itself. I have shown elsewhere that the notion of Entelechy is not altogether to be scorned, and that, being permanent, it carries with it not only a mere faculty for action, but also that which is called 'force', 'effort', 'conatus', from which action itself must follow if nothing prevents it. Faculty is only an _attribute_, or rather sometimes a mode; but force, when it is not an ingredient of substance itself (that is, force which is not primitive but derivative), is a _quality_, which is distinct and separable from substance. I have shown also how one may suppose that the soul is a primitive force which is modified and varied by derivative forces or qualities, and exercised in actions. 88. Now philosophers have troubled themselves exceedingly on the question of the origin of substantial forms. For to say that the compound of form and matter is produced and that the form is only _comproduced_ means nothing. The common opinion was that forms were derived from the potency of matter, this being called _Eduction_. That also meant in fact nothing, but it was explained in a sense by a comparison with shapes: for that of a statue is produced only by removal of the superfluous marble. This comparison might be valid if form consisted in a mere limitation, as in the case of shape. Some have thought that forms were sent from heaven, and even created expressly, when bodies were produced. Julius Scaliger hinted that it was possible that forms were rather derived from the active potency of the efficient cause (that is to say, either from that of God in the [171] case of Creation or from that of other forms in the case of generation), than from the passive potency of matter. And that, in the case of generation, meant a return to traduction. Daniel Sennert, a famous doctor and physicist at Wittenberg, cherished this opinion, particularly in relation to animate bodies which are multiplied through seed. A certain Julius Caesar della Galla, an Italian living in the Low Countries, and a doctor of Groningen named Johan Freitag wrote with much vehemence in opposition to Sennert. Johann Sperling, a professor at Wittenberg, made a defence of his master, and finally came into conflict with Johann Zeisold, a professor at Jena, who upheld the belief that the human soul is created. 89. But traduction and eduction are equally inexplicable when it is a question of finding the origin of the soul. It is not the same with accidental forms, since they are only modifications of the substance, and their origin may be explained by eduction, that is, by variation of limitations, in the same way as the origin of shapes. But it is quite another matter when we are concerned with the origin of a substance, whose beginning and destruction are equally difficult to explain. Sennert and Sperling did not venture to admit the subsistence and the indestructibility of the souls of beasts or of other primitive forms, although they allowed that they were indivisible and immaterial. But the fact is that they confused indestructibility with immortality, whereby is understood in the case of man that not only the soul but also the personality subsists. In saying that the soul of man is immortal one implies the subsistence of what makes the identity of the person, something which retains its moral qualities, conserving the _consciousness_, or the reflective inward feeling, of what it is: thus it is rendered susceptible to chastisement or reward. But this conservation of personality does not occur in the souls of beasts: that is why I prefer to say that they are imperishable rather than to call them immortal. Yet this misapprehension appears to have been the cause of a great inconsistency in the doctrine of the Thomists and of other good philosophers: they recognized the immateriality or indivisibility of all souls, without being willing to admit their indestructibility, greatly to the prejudice of the immortality of the human soul. John Scot, that is, the Scotsman (which formerly signified Hibernian or Erigena), a famous writer of the time of Louis the Debonair and of his sons, was for the conservation of all souls: and I see not why there should be less [172] objection to making the atoms of Epicurus or of Gassendi endure, than to affirming the subsistence of all truly simple and indivisible substances, which are the sole and true atoms of Nature. And Pythagoras was right in saying generally, as Ovid makes him say: _Morte carent animae_. 90. Now as I like maxims which hold good and admit of the fewest exceptions possible, here is what has appeared to me most reasonable in every sense on this important question. I consider that souls and simple substances altogether cannot begin except by creation, or end except by annihilation. Moreover, as the formation of organic animate bodies appears explicable in the order of nature only when one assumes a _preformation_ already organic, I have thence inferred that what we call generation of an animal is only a transformation and augmentation. Thus, since the same body was already furnished with organs, it is to be supposed that it was already animate, and that it had the same soul: so I assume _vice versa_, from the conservation of the soul when once it is created, that the animal is also conserved, and that apparent death is only an envelopment, there being no likelihood that in the order of nature souls exist entirely separated from all body, or that what does not begin naturally can cease through natural forces. 91. Considering that so admirable an order and rules so general are established in regard to animals, it does not appear reasonable that man should be completely excluded from that order, and that everything in relation to his soul should come about in him by miracle. Besides I have pointed out repeatedly that it is of the essence of God's wisdom that all should be harmonious in his works, and that nature should be parallel with grace. It is thus my belief that those souls which one day shall be human souls, like those of other species, have been in the seed, and in the progenitors as far back as Adam, and have consequently existed since the beginning of things, always in a kind of organic body. On this point it seems that M. Swammerdam, Father Malebranche, M. Bayle, Mr. Pitcairne, M. Hartsoeker and numerous other very able persons share my opinion. This doctrine is also sufficiently confirmed by the microscope observations of M. Leeuwenhoek and other good observers. But it also for divers reasons appears likely to me that they existed then as sentient or animal [173] souls only, endowed with perception and feeling, and devoid of reason. Further I believe that they remained in this state up to the time of the generation of the man to whom they were to belong, but that then they received reason, whether there be a natural means of raising a sentient soul to the degree of a reasoning soul (a thing I find it difficult to imagine) or whether God may have given reason to this soul through some special operation, or (if you will) by a kind of _transcreation_. This latter is easier to admit, inasmuch as revelation teaches much about other forms of immediate operation by God upon our souls. This explanation appears to remove the obstacles that beset this matter in philosophy or theology. For the difficulty of the origin of forms thus disappears completely; and besides it is much more appropriate to divine justice to give the soul, already corrupted _physically_ or on the animal side by the sin of Adam, a new perfection which is reason, than to put a reasoning soul, by creation or otherwise, in a body wherein it is to be corrupted _morally_. 92. Now the soul being once under the domination of sin, and ready to commit sin in actual fact as soon as the man is fit to exercise reason, a new question arises, to wit: whether this tendency in a man who has not been regenerated by baptism suffices to damn him, even though he should never come to commit sin, as may happen, and happens often, whether he die before reaching years of discretion or he become dull of sense before he has made use of his reason. St. Gregory of Nazianzos is supposed to have denied this (_Orat. de Baptismo_); but St. Augustine is for the affirmative, and maintains that original sin of itself is sufficient to earn the flames of hell, although this opinion is, to say the least, very harsh. When I speak here of damnation or of hell, I mean pains, and not mere deprivation of supreme felicity; I mean _poenam sensus, non damni_. Gregory of Rimini, General of the Augustinians, with a few others followed St. Augustine in opposition to the accepted opinion of the Schools of his time, and for that reason he was called the torturer of children, _tortor infantum_. The Schoolmen, instead of sending them into the flames of hell, have assigned to them a special Limbo, where they do not suffer, and are only punished by privation of the beatific vision. The Revelations of St. Birgitta (as they are called), much esteemed in Rome, also uphold this dogma. Salmeron and Molina, and before them Ambrose Catharin and [174] others, grant them a certain natural bliss; and Cardinal Sfondrati, a man of learning and piety, who approves this, latterly went so far as to prefer in a sense their state, which is the state of happy innocence, to that of a sinner saved, as we may see in his _Nodus Praedestinationis Solutus_. That, however, seems to go too far. Certainly a soul truly enlightened would not wish to sin, even though it could by this means obtain all imaginable pleasures. But the case of choosing between sin and true bliss is simply chimerical, and it is better to obtain bliss (even after repentance) than to be deprived of it for ever. 93. Many prelates and theologians of France who are well pleased to differ from Molina, and to join with St. Augustine, seem to incline towards the opinion of this great doctor, who condemns to eternal flames children that die in the age of innocence before having received baptism. This is what appears from the letter mentioned above, written by five distinguished prelates of France to Pope Innocent XII, against that posthumous book by Cardinal Sfondrati. But therein they did not venture to condemn the doctrine of the purely privative punishment of children dying without baptism, seeing it approved by the venerable Thomas Aquinas, and by other great men. I do not speak of those who are called on one side Jansenists and on the other disciples of St. Augustine, for they declare themselves entirely and firmly for the opinion of this Father. But it must be confessed that this opinion has not sufficient foundation either in reason or in Scripture, and that it is outrageously harsh. M. Nicole makes rather a poor apology for it in his book on the _Unity of the Church_, written to oppose M. Jurieu, although M. Bayle takes his side in chapter 178 of the _Reply to the Questions of a Provincial_, vol. III. M. Nicole makes use of this pretext, that there are also other dogmas in the Christian religion which appear harsh. On the one hand, however, that does not lead to the conclusion that these instances of harshness may be multiplied without proof; and on the other we must take into account that the other dogmas mentioned by M. Nicole, namely original sin and eternity of punishment, are only harsh and unjust to outward appearance, while the damnation of children dying without actual sin and without regeneration would in truth be harsh, since it would be in effect the damning of innocents. For that reason I believe that the party which advocates this opinion will never altogether have the upper hand in the Roman Church itself. Evangelical[175] theologians are accustomed to speak with fair moderation on this question, and to surrender these souls to the judgement and the clemency of their Creator. Nor do we know all the wonderful ways that God may choose to employ for the illumination of souls. 94. One may say that those who condemn for original sin alone, and who consequently condemn children dying unbaptized or outside the Covenant, fall, in a sense, without being aware of it, into a certain attitude to man's inclination and God's foreknowledge which they disapprove in others. They will not have it that God should refuse his grace to those whose resistance to it he foresees, nor that this expectation and this tendency should cause the damnation of these persons: and yet they claim that the tendency which constitutes original sin, and in which God foresees that the child will sin as soon as he shall reach years of discretion, suffices to damn this child beforehand. Those who maintain the one and reject the other do not preserve enough uniformity and connexion in their dogmas. 95. There is scarcely less difficulty in the matter of those who reach years of discretion and plunge into sin, following the inclination of corrupt nature, if they receive not the succour of the grace necessary for them to stop on the edge of the precipice, or to drag themselves from the abyss wherein they have fallen. For it seems hard to damn them eternally for having done that which they had no power to prevent themselves from doing. Those that damn even children, who are without discretion, trouble themselves even less about adults, and one would say that they have become callous through the very expectation of seeing people suffer. But it is not the same with other theologians, and I would be rather on the side of those who grant to all men a grace sufficient to draw them away from evil, provided they have a sufficient tendency to profit by this succour, and not to reject it voluntarily. The objection is made that there has been and still is a countless multitude of men, among civilized peoples and among barbarians, who have never had this knowledge of God and of Jesus Christ which is necessary for those who would tread the wonted paths to salvation. But without excusing them on the plea of a sin purely philosophical, and without stopping at a mere penalty of privation, things for which there is no opportunity of discussion here, one may doubt the fact: for how do we know whether they do not receive ordinary or extraordinary succour of [176] kinds unknown to us? This maxim, _Quod facienti, quod in se est, non denegatur gratia necessaria_, appears to me to have eternal truth. Thomas Aquinas, Archbishop Bradwardine and others have hinted that, in regard to this, something comes to pass of which we are not aware. (Thom. quest. XIV, _De Veritate_, artic. XI, ad I et alibi. Bradwardine, _De Causa Dei_, non procul ab initio.) And sundry theologians of great authority in the Roman Church itself have taught that a sincere act of the love of God above all things, when the grace of Jesus Christ arouses it, suffices for salvation. Father Francis Xavier answered the Japanese that if their ancestors had used well their natural light God would have given them the grace necessary for salvation; and the Bishop of Geneva, Francis of Sales, gives full approval to this answer (Book 4, _On the Love of God,_ ch. 5). 96. This I pointed out some time ago to the excellent M Pélisson, to show him that the Roman Church, going further than the Protestants, does not damn utterly those who are outside its communion, and even outside Christianity, by using as its only criterion explicit faith. Nor did he refute it, properly speaking, in the very kind answer he gave me, and which he published in the fourth part of his _Reflexions_, also doing me the honour of adding to it my letter. I offered him then for consideration what a famous Portuguese theologian, by name Jacques Payva Andradius, envoy to the Council of Trent, wrote concerning this, in opposition to Chemnitz, during this same Council. And now, without citing many other authors of eminence, I will content myself with naming Father Friedrich Spee, the Jesuit, one of the most excellent in his Society, who also held this common opinion upon the efficacy of the love of God, as is apparent in the preface to the admirable book which he wrote in Germany on the Christian virtues. He speaks of this observation as of a highly important secret of piety, and expatiates with great clearness upon the power of divine love to blot out sin, even without the intervention of the Sacraments of the Catholic Church, provided one scorn them not, for that would not at all be compatible with this love. And a very great personage, whose character was one of the most lofty to be found in the Roman Church, was the first to make me acquainted with it. Father Spee was of a noble family of Westphalia (it may be said in passing) and he died in the odour of sanctity, according to the testimony of him who published this book in Cologne with the [177] approval of the Superiors. 97. The memory of this excellent man ought to be still precious to persons of knowledge and good sense, because he is the author of the book entitled: _Cautio Criminalis circa Processus contra Sagas_, which has caused much stir, and has been translated into several languages. I learnt from the Grand Elector of Mainz, Johann Philipp von Schonborn, uncle of His Highness the present Elector, who walks gloriously in the footsteps of that worthy predecessor, the story that follows. That Father was in Franconia when there was a frenzy there for burning alleged sorcerers. He accompanied even to the pyre many of them, all of whom he recognized as being innocent, from their confessions and the researches that he had made thereon. Therefore in spite of the danger incurred at that time by one telling the truth in this matter, he resolved to compile this work, without however naming himself. It bore great fruit and on this matter converted that Elector, at that time still a simple canon and afterwards Bishop of Würzburg, finally also Archbishop of Mainz, who, as soon as he came to power, put an end to these burnings. Therein he was followed by the Dukes of Brunswick, and finally by the majority of the other princes and states of Germany. 98. This digression appeared to me to be seasonable, because that writer deserves to be more widely known. Returning now to the subject I make a further observation. Supposing that to-day a knowledge of Jesus Christ according to the flesh is absolutely necessary to salvation, as indeed it is safest to teach, it will be possible to say that God will give that knowledge to all those who do, humanly speaking, that which in them lies, even though God must needs give it by a miracle. Moreover, we cannot know what passes in souls at the point of death; and if sundry learned and serious theologians claim that children receive in baptism a kind of faith, although they do not remember it afterwards when they are questioned about it, why should one maintain that nothing of a like nature, or even more definite, could come about in the dying, whom we cannot interrogate after their death? Thus there are countless paths open to God, giving him means of satisfying his justice and his goodness: and the only thing one may allege against this is that we know not what way he employs; which is far from being a valid objection. [178] 99. Let us pass on to those who lack not power to amend, but good will. They are doubtless not to be excused; but there always remains a great difficulty concerning God, since it rested with him to give them this same good will. He is the master of wills, the hearts of kings and those of all other men are in his hand. Holy Scripture goes so far as to say that God at times hardened the wicked in order to display his power by punishing them. This hardening is not to be taken as meaning that God inspires men with a kind of anti-grace, that is, a kind of repugnance to good, or even an inclination towards evil, just as the grace that he gives is an inclination towards good. It is rather that God, having considered the sequence of things that he established, found it fitting, for superior reasons, to permit that Pharaoh, for example, should be in such _circumstances_ as should increase his wickedness, and divine wisdom willed to derive a good from this evil. 100. Thus it all often comes down to _circumstances_, which form a part of the combination of things. There are countless examples of small circumstances serving to convert or to pervert. Nothing is more widely known than the _Tolle, lege_ (Take and read) cry which St. Augustine heard in a neighbouring house, when he was pondering on what side he should take among the Christians divided into sects, and saying to himself, _Quod vitae sectabor iter?_ This brought him to open at random the book of the Holy Scriptures which he had before him, and to read what came before his eyes: and these were words which finally induced him to give up Manichaeism. The good Steno, a Dane, who was titular Bishop of Titianopolis, Vicar Apostolic (as they say) of Hanover and the region around, when there was a Duke Regent of his religion, told us that something of that kind had happened to him. He was a great anatomist and deeply versed in natural science; but he unfortunately gave up research therein, and from being a great physicist he became a mediocre theologian. He would almost listen to nothing more about the marvels of Nature, and an express order from the Pope _in virtute sanctae obedientiae_ was needed to extract from him the observations M. Thévenot asked of him. He told us then that what had greatly helped towards inducing him to place himself on the side of the Roman Church had been the voice of a lady in Florence, who had cried out to him from a window: 'Go not on[179] the side where you are about to go, sir, go on the other side.' 'That voice struck me,' he told us, 'because I was just meditating upon religion.' This lady knew that he was seeking a man in the house where she was, and, when she saw him making his way to the other house, wished to point out where his friend's room was. 101. Father John Davidius, the Jesuit, wrote a book entitled _Veridicus Christianus_, which is like a kind of _Bibliomancy_, where one takes passages at random, after the pattern of the _Tolle, lege_ of St. Augustine, and it is like a devotional game. But the chances to which, in spite of ourselves, we are subject, play only too large a part in what brings salvation to men, or removes it from them. Let us imagine twin Polish children, the one taken by the Tartars, sold to the Turks, brought to apostasy, plunged in impiety, dying in despair; the other saved by some chance, falling then into good hands to be educated properly, permeated by the soundest truths of religion, exercised in the virtues that it commends to us, dying with all the feelings of a good Christian. One will lament the misfortune of the former, prevented perhaps by a slight circumstance from being saved like his brother, and one will marvel that this slight chance should have decided his fate for eternity. 102. Someone will perchance say that God foresaw by mediate knowledge that the former would have been wicked and damned even if he had remained in Poland. There are perhaps conjunctures wherein something of the kind takes place. But will it therefore be said that this is a general rule, and that not one of those who were damned amongst the pagans would have been saved if he had been amongst Christians? Would that not be to contradict our Lord, who said that Tyre and Sidon would have profited better by his preaching, if they had had the good fortune to hear it, than Capernaum? 103. But were one to admit even here this use of mediate knowledge against all appearances, this knowledge still implies that God considers what a man would do in such and such circumstances; and it always remains true that God could have placed him in other circumstances more favourable, and given him inward or outward succour capable of vanquishing the most abysmal wickedness existing in any soul. I shall be told that God is not bound to do so, but that is not enough; it must be added that greater reasons prevent him from making all his goodness felt by all. Thus there must [180] needs be choice; but I do not think one must seek the reason altogether in the good or bad nature of men. For if with some people one assume that God, choosing the plan which produces the most good, but which involves sin and damnation, has been prompted by his wisdom to choose the best natures in order to make them objects of his grace, this grace would not sufficiently appear to be a free gift. Accordingly man will be distinguishable by a kind of inborn merit, and this assumption seems remote from the principles of St. Paul, and even from those of Supreme Reason. 104. It is true that there are reasons for God's choice, and the consideration of the object, that is, the nature of man, must needs enter therein; but it does not seem that this choice can be subjected to a rule such as we are capable of conceiving, and such as may flatter the pride of men. Some famous theologians believe that God offers more grace, and in a more favourable way, to those whose resistance he foresees will be less, and that he abandons the rest to their self-will. We may readily suppose that this is often the case, and this expedient, among those which make man distinguishable by anything favourable in his nature, is the farthest removed from Pelagianism. But I would not venture, notwithstanding, to make of it a universal rule. Moreover, that we may not have cause to vaunt ourselves, it is necessary that we be ignorant of the reasons for God's choice. Those reasons are too diverse to become known to us; and it may be that God at times shows the power of his grace by overcoming the most obstinate resistance, to the end that none may have cause either to despair or to be puffed up. St. Paul, as it would seem, had this in mind when he offered himself as an example. God, he said, has had mercy upon me, to give a great example of his patience. 105. It may be that fundamentally all men are equally bad, and consequently incapable of being distinguished the one from the other through their good or less bad natural qualities; but they are not bad all in the same way: for there is an inherent individual difference between souls, as the Pre-established Harmony proves. Some are more or less inclined towards a particular good or a particular evil, or towards their opposites, all in accordance with their natural dispositions. But since the general plan of the universe, chosen by God for superior reasons, causes men to be in different circumstances, those who meet with such as are more [181] favourable to their nature will become more readily the least wicked, the most virtuous, the most happy; yet it will be always by aid of the influence of that inward grace which God unites with the circumstances. Sometimes it even comes to pass, in the progress of human life, that a more excellent nature succeeds less, for lack of cultivation or opportunities. One may say that men are chosen and ranged not so much according to their excellence as according to their conformity with God's plan. Even so it may occur that a stone of lesser quality is made use of in a building or in a group because it proves to be the particular one for filling a certain gap. 106. But, in fine, all these attempts to find reasons, where there is no need to adhere altogether to certain hypotheses, serve only to make clear to us that there are a thousand ways of justifying the conduct of God. All the disadvantages we see, all the obstacles we meet with, all the difficulties one may raise for oneself, are no hindrance to a belief founded on reason, even when it cannot stand on conclusive proof, as has been shown and will later become more apparent, that there is nothing so exalted as the wisdom of God, nothing so just as his judgements, nothing so pure as his holiness, and nothing more vast than his goodness. [182] * * * * * ESSAYS ON THE JUSTICE OF GOD AND THE FREEDOM OF MAN IN THE ORIGIN OF EVIL * * * * * PART TWO 107. Hitherto I have devoted myself to giving a full and clear exposition of this whole subject: and although I have not yet spoken of M. Bayle's objections in particular, I have endeavoured to anticipate them, and to suggest ways of answering them. But as I have taken upon myself the task of meeting them in detail, not only because there will perhaps still be passages calling for elucidation, but also because his arguments are usually full of wit and erudition, and serve to throw greater light on this controversy, it will be well to give an account of the chief objections that are dispersed through his works, and to add my answers. At the beginning I observed 'that God co-operates in moral evil, and in physical evil, and in each of them both morally and physically; and that man co-operates therein also morally and physically in a free and active way, becoming in consequence subject to blame and punishment'. I have shown also that each point has its own difficulty; but the greatest of these lies in maintaining that God co-operates morally in moral evil, that is, in sin, without being the originator of the sin, and even without being accessary thereto. 108. He does this by _permitting_ it justly, and by _directing_ it wisely towards the good, as I have shown in a manner that appears tolerably intelligible. But as it is here principally that M. Bayle undertakes [183] to discomfit those who maintain that there is nothing in faith which cannot be harmonized with reason, it is also here especially I must show that my dogmas are fortified (to make use of his own allegory) with a rampart, even of reasons, which is able to resist the fire of his strongest batteries. He has ranged them against me in chapter 144 of his _Reply to the Questions of a Provincial_ (vol. III, p. 812), where he includes the theological doctrine in seven propositions and opposes thereto nineteen philosophic maxims, like so many large cannon capable of breaching my rampart. Let us begin with the theological propositions. 109. I. 'God,' he says, 'the Being eternal and necessary, infinitely good, holy, wise and powerful, possesses from all eternity a glory and a bliss that can never either increase or diminish.' This proposition of M. Bayle's is no less philosophical than theological. To say that God possesses a 'glory' when he is alone, that depends upon the meaning of the term. One may say, with some, that glory is the satisfaction one finds in being aware of one's own perfections; and in this sense God possesses it always. But when glory signifies that others become aware of these perfections, one may say that God acquires it only when he reveals himself to intelligent creatures; even though it be true that God thereby gains no new good, and it is rather the rational creatures who thence derive advantage, when they apprehend aright the glory of God. 110. II. 'He resolved freely upon the production of creatures, and he chose from among an infinite number of possible beings those whom it pleased him to choose, to give them existence, and to compose the universe of them, while he left all the rest in nothingness.' This proposition is also, just like the preceding one, in close conformity with that part of philosophy which is called natural theology. One must dwell a little on what is said here, that he chose the possible beings 'whom it pleased him to choose'. For it must be borne in mind that when I say, 'that pleases me', it is as though I were saying, 'I find it good'. Thus it is the ideal goodness of the object which pleases, and which makes me choose it among many others which do not please or which please less, that is to say, which contain less of that goodness which moves me. Now it is only the genuinely good that is capable of pleasing God: and consequently that which pleases God most, and which meets his choice, is the best. [184] 111. III. 'Human nature having been among the Beings that he willed to produce, he created a man and a woman, and granted them amongst other favours free will, so that they had the power to obey him; but he threatened them with death if they should disobey the order that he gave them to abstain from a certain fruit.' This proposition is in part revealed, and should be admitted without difficulty, provided that _free will_ be understood properly, according to the explanation I have given. 112. IV. 'They ate thereof nevertheless, and thenceforth they were condemned, they and all their posterity, to the miseries of this life, to temporal death and eternal damnation, and made subject to such a tendency to sin that they abandoned themselves thereto endlessly and without ceasing.' There is reason to suppose that the forbidden action by itself entailed these evil results in accordance with a natural effect, and that it was for that very reason, and not by a purely arbitrary decree, that God had forbidden it: much as one forbids knives to children. The famous Fludde or de Fluctibus, an Englishman, once wrote a book _De Vita, Morte et Resurrectione_ under the name of R. Otreb, wherein he maintained that the fruit of the forbidden tree was a poison: but we cannot enter into this detail. It suffices that God forbade a harmful thing; one must not therefore suppose that God acted here simply in the character of a legislator who enacts a purely positive law, or of a judge who imposes and inflicts a punishment by an order of his will, without any connexion between the evil of guilt and the evil of punishment. And it is not necessary to suppose that God in justifiable annoyance deliberately put a corruption in the soul and the body of man, by an extraordinary action, in order to punish him: much as the Athenians gave hemlock-juice to their criminals. M. Bayle takes the matter thus: he speaks as if the original corruption had been put in the soul of the first man by an order and operation of God. It is that which calls forth his objection (_Reply to the Questions of a Provincial_, vol. III, ch. 178, p. 1218) 'that reason would not commend the monarch who, in order to chastise a rebel, condemned him and his descendants to have a tendency towards rebellion'. But this chastisement happens naturally to the wicked, without any ordinance of a legislator, and they become addicted to evil. If drunkards begot children inclined to the same vice, by a natural consequence of what takes place in bodies, that would be a punishment of their progenitors, but it would [185] not be a penalty of law. There is something comparable to this in the consequences of the first man's sin. For the contemplation of divine wisdom leads us to believe that the realm of nature serves that of grace; and that God as an Architect has done all in a manner befitting God considered as a Monarch. We do not sufficiently know the nature of the forbidden fruit, or that of the action, or its effects, to judge of the details of this matter: nevertheless we must do God justice so far as to believe that it comprised something other than what painters depict for us. 113. V. 'It has pleased him by his infinite mercy to deliver a very few men from this condemnation; and, leaving them exposed during this life to the corruption of sin and misery, he has given them aids which enable them to obtain the never-ending bliss of paradise.' Many in the past have doubted, as I have already observed, whether the number of the damned is so great as is generally supposed; and it appears that they believed in the existence of some intermediate state between eternal damnation and perfect bliss. But we have no need of these opinions, and it is enough to keep to the ideas accepted in the Church. In this connexion it is well to observe that this proposition of M. Bayle's is conceived in accordance with the principles of sufficient grace, given to all men, and sufficing them provided that they have good will. Although M. Bayle holds the opposite opinion, he wished (as he states in the margin) to avoid the terms that would not agree with a system of decrees subsequent to the prevision of contingent events. 114. VI. 'He foresaw from eternity all that which should happen, he ordered all things and placed them each one in its own place, and he guides and controls them continually, according to his pleasure. Thus nothing is done without his permission or against his will, and he can prevent, as seems good to him, as much and as often as seems good to him, all that does not please him, and in consequence sin, which is the thing in the world that most offends him and that he most detests; and he can produce in each human soul all the thoughts that he approves.' This thesis is also purely philosophic, that is, recognizable by the light of natural reason. It is opportune also, as one has dwelt in thesis II on _that which pleases_, to dwell here upon _that which seems good_, that is, upon that which God finds good to do. He can avoid or put away as 'seems good to him' all 'that does not please him'. Nevertheless it must be borne in mind that some objects of his aversion, such as certain evils, and especially sin, which his [186] antecedent will repelled, could only have been rejected by his consequent or decretory will, in so far as it was prompted by the rule of the best, which the All-wise must choose after having taken all into account. When one says 'that sin offends God most, and that he detests it most', these are human ways of speaking. God cannot, properly speaking, be _offended_, that is, injured, disturbed, disquieted or angered; and he _detests_ nothing of that which exists, in the sense that to detest something is to look upon it with abomination and in a way that causes us disgust, that greatly pains and distresses us; for God cannot suffer either vexation, or grief or discomfort; he is always altogether content and at ease. Yet these expressions in their true sense are justified. The supreme goodness of God causes his antecedent will to repel all evil, but moral evil more than any other: it only admits evil at all for irresistible superior reasons, and with great correctives which repair its ill effects to good advantage. It is true also that God could produce in each human soul all the thoughts that he approves: but this would be to act by miracles, more than his most perfectly conceived plan admits. 115. VII. 'He offers grace to people that he knows are destined not to accept it, and so destined by this refusal to make themselves more criminal than they would be if he had not offered them that grace; he assures them that it is his ardent wish that they accept it, and he does not give them the grace which he knows they would accept.' It is true that these people become more criminal through their refusal than if one had offered them nothing, and that God knows this. Yet it is better to permit their crime than to act in a way which would render God himself blameworthy, and provide the criminals with some justification for the complaint that it was not possible for them to do better, even though they had or might have wished it. God desires that they receive such grace from him as they are fit to receive, and that they accept it; and he desires to give them in particular that grace whose acceptance by them he foresees: but it is always by a will antecedent, detached or particular, which cannot always be carried out in the general plan of things. This thesis also is among the number of those which philosophy establishes no less than revelation, like three others of the seven that we have just stated here, the third, fourth and fifth being the only ones where revelation is necessary. [187] 116. Here now are the nineteen philosophic maxims which M. Bayle opposes to the seven theological propositions. I. 'As the infinitely perfect Being finds in himself a glory and a bliss that can never either diminish or increase, his goodness alone has determined him to create this universe: neither the ambition to be praised, nor any interested motive of preserving or augmenting his bliss and his glory, has had any part therein.' This maxim is very good: praises of God do him no service, but they are of service to the men who praise him, and he desired their good. Nevertheless, when one says that _goodness_ alone determined God to create this universe, it is well to add that his GOODNESS prompted him _antecedently_ to create and to produce all possible good; but that his WISDOM made the choice and caused him to select the best _consequently_; and finally that his POWER gave him the means to carry out _actually_ the great design which he had formed. 117. II. 'The goodness of the infinitely perfect Being is infinite, and would not be infinite if one could conceive of a goodness greater than this. This characteristic of infinity is proper also to all his other perfections, to love of virtue, hatred of vice, etc., they must be the greatest one can imagine. (See M. Jurieu in the first three sections of the _Judgement on Methods_, where he argues constantly upon this principle, as upon a primary notion. See also in Wittich, _De Providentia Dei_, n. 12, these words of St. Augustine, lib. I, _De Doctrina Christiana_, c. 7: "Cum cogitatur Deus, ita cogitatur, ut aliquid, quo nihil melius sit atque sublimius. Et paulo post: Nec quisquam inveniri potest, qui hoc Deum credat esse, quo melius aliquid est.")' This maxim is altogether to my liking, and I draw from it this conclusion, that God does the very best possible: otherwise the exercise of his goodness would be restricted, and that would be restricting his _goodness_ itself, if it did not prompt him to the best, if he were lacking in good will. Or again it would be restricting his _wisdom_ and his _power_, if he lacked the knowledge necessary for discerning the best and for finding the means to obtain it, or if he lacked the strength necessary for employing these means. There is, however, ambiguity in the assertion that love of virtue and hatred of vice are infinite in God: if that were absolutely and unreservedly true, in practice there would be no vice in the world. But although each one of God's perfections is infinite in itself, it is exercised only in proportion to the object and as the nature of things prompts it. Thus love of the best in the whole carries the day over [188] all other individual inclinations or hatreds; it is the only impulse whose very exercise is absolutely infinite, nothing having power to prevent God from declaring himself for the best; and some vice being combined with the best possible plan, God permits it. 118. III. 'An infinite goodness having guided the Creator in the production of the world, all the characteristics of knowledge, skill, power and greatness that are displayed in his work are destined for the happiness of intelligent creatures. He wished to show forth his perfections only to the end that creatures of this kind should find their felicity in the knowledge, the admiration and the love of the Supreme Being.' This maxim appears to me not sufficiently exact. I grant that the happiness of intelligent creatures is the principal part of God's design, for they are most like him; but nevertheless I do not see how one can prove that to be his sole aim. It is true that the realm of nature must serve the realm of grace: but, since all is connected in God's great design, we must believe that the realm of grace is also in some way adapted to that of nature, so that nature preserves the utmost order and beauty, to render the combination of the two the most perfect that can be. And there is no reason to suppose that God, for the sake of some lessening of moral evil, would reverse the whole order of nature. Each perfection or imperfection in the creature has its value, but there is none that has an infinite value. Thus the moral or physical good and evil of rational creatures does not infinitely exceed the good and evil which is simply metaphysical, namely that which lies in the perfection of the other creatures; and yet one would be bound to say this if the present maxim were strictly true. When God justified to the Prophet Jonah the pardon that he had granted to the inhabitants of Nineveh, he even touched upon the interest of the beasts who would have been involved in the ruin of this great city. No substance is absolutely contemptible or absolutely precious before God. And the abuse or the exaggerated extension of the present maxim appears to be in part the source of the difficulties that M. Bayle puts forward. It is certain that God sets greater store by a man than a lion; nevertheless it can hardly be said with certainty that God prefers a single man in all respects to the whole of lion-kind. Even should that be so, it would by no means follow that the interest of a certain number of men would prevail over the [189] consideration of a general disorder diffused through an infinite number of creatures. This opinion would be a remnant of the old and somewhat discredited maxim, that all is made solely for man. 119. IV. 'The benefits he imparts to the creatures that are capable of felicity tend only to their happiness. He therefore does not permit that these should serve to make them unhappy, and, if the wrong use that they made of them were capable of destroying them, he would give them sure means of always using them well. Otherwise they would not be true benefits, and his goodness would be smaller than that we can conceive of in another benefactor. (I mean, in a Cause that united with its gifts the sure skill to make good use of them.)' There already is the abuse or the ill effect of the preceding maxim. It is not strictly true (though it appear plausible) that the benefits God imparts to the creatures who are capable of felicity tend solely to their happiness. All is connected in Nature; and if a skilled artisan, an engineer, an architect, a wise politician often makes one and the same thing serve several ends, if he makes a double hit with a single throw, when that can be done conveniently, one may say that God, whose wisdom and power are perfect, does so always. That is husbanding the ground, the time, the place, the material, which make up as it were his outlay. Thus God has more than one purpose in his projects. The felicity of all rational creatures is one of the aims he has in view; but it is not his whole aim, nor even his final aim. Therefore it happens that the unhappiness of some of these creatures may come about _by concomitance_, and as a result of other greater goods: this I have already explained, and M. Bayle has to some extent acknowledged it. The goods as such, considered in themselves, are the object of the antecedent will of God. God will produce as much reason and knowledge in the universe as his plan can admit. One can conceive of a mean between an antecedent will altogether pure and primitive, and a consequent and final will. The _primitive antecedent will_ has as its object each good and each evil in itself, detached from all combination, and tends to advance the good and prevent the evil. The _mediate will_ relates to combinations, as when one attaches a good to an evil: then the will will have some tendency towards this combination when the good exceeds the evil therein. But the _final and decisive will_ results from consideration of all the goods and all the evils that enter into our deliberation, it results from a total combination. This shows[190] that a mediate will, although it may in a sense pass as consequent in relation to a pure and primitive antecedent will, must be considered antecedent in relation to the final and decretory will. God gives reason to the human race; misfortunes arise thence by concomitance. His pure antecedent will tends towards giving reason, as a great good, and preventing the evils in question. But when it is a question of the evils that accompany this gift which God has made to us of reason, the compound, made up of the combination of reason and of these evils, will be the object of a mediate will of God, which will tend towards producing or preventing this compound, according as the good or the evil prevails therein. But even though it should prove that reason did more harm than good to men (which, however, I do not admit), whereupon the mediate will of God would discard it with all its concomitants, it might still be the case that it was more in accordance with the perfection of the universe to give reason to men, notwithstanding all the evil consequences which it might have with reference to them. Consequently, the final will or the decree of God, resulting from all the considerations he can have, would be to give it to them. And, far from being subject to blame for this, he would be blameworthy if he did not so. Thus the evil, or the mixture of goods and evils wherein the evil prevails, happens only _by concomitance_, because it is connected with greater goods that are outside this mixture. This mixture, therefore, or this compound, is not to be conceived as a grace or as a gift from God to us; but the good that is found mingled therein will nevertheless be good. Such is God's gift of reason to those who make ill use thereof. It is always a good in itself; but the combination of this good with the evils that proceed from its abuse is not a good with regard to those who in consequence thereof become unhappy. Yet it comes to be by concomitance, because it serves a greater good in relation to the universe. And it is doubtless that which prompted God to give reason to those who have made it an instrument of their unhappiness. Or, to put it more precisely, in accordance with my system God, having found among the possible beings some rational creatures who misuse their reason, gave existence to those who are included in the best possible plan of the universe. Thus nothing prevents us from admitting that God grants goods which turn into evil by the fault of men, this often happening to men in just punishment of the misuse they had made of God's grace. Aloysius [191] Novarinus wrote a book _De Occultis Dei Beneficiis_: one could write one _De Occultis Dei Poenis_. This saying of Claudian would be in place here with regard to some persons: _Tolluntur in altum,_ _Ut lapsu graviore ruant_. But to say that God should not give a good which he knows an evil will will abuse, when the general plan of things demands that he give it; or again to say that he should give certain means for preventing it, contrary to this same general order: that is to wish (as I have observed already) that God himself become blameworthy in order to prevent man from being so. To object, as people do here, that the goodness of God would be smaller than that of another benefactor who would give a more useful gift, is to overlook the fact that the goodness of a benefactor is not measured by a single benefit. It may well be that a gift from a private person is greater than one from a prince, but the gifts of this private person all taken together will be much inferior to the prince's gifts all together. Thus one can esteem fittingly the good things done by God only when one considers their whole extent by relating them to the entire universe. Moreover, one may say that the gifts given in the expectation that they will harm are the gifts of an enemy, [Greek: hechthrôn dôra adôra], _Hostibus eveniant talia dona meis._ But that applies to when there is malice or guilt in him who gives them, as there was in that Eutrapelus of whom Horace speaks, who did good to people in order to give them the means of destroying themselves. His design was evil, but God's design cannot be better than it is. Must God spoil his system, must there be less beauty, perfection and reason in the universe, because there are people who misuse reason? The common sayings are in place here: _Abusus non tollit usum_; there is _scandalum datum et scandalum acceptum_. 120. V. 'A maleficent being is very capable of heaping magnificent gifts upon his enemies, when he knows that they will make thereof a use that will destroy them. It therefore does not beseem the infinitely good Being to give to creatures a free will, whereof, as he knows for certain, they would make a use that would render them unhappy. Therefore if he gives them free will he combines with it the art of using it always opportunely, and permits not that they neglect the practice of this art in any [192] conjuncture; and if there were no sure means of determining the good use of this free will, he would rather take from them this faculty, than allow it to be the cause of their unhappiness. That is the more manifest, as free will is a grace which he has given them of his own choice and without their asking for it; so that he would be more answerable for the unhappiness it would bring upon them than if he had only granted it in response to their importunate prayers.' What was said at the end of the remark on the preceding maxim ought to be repeated here, and is sufficient to counter the present maxim. Moreover, the author is still presupposing that false maxim advanced as the third, stating that the happiness of rational creatures is the sole aim of God. If that were so, perhaps neither sin nor unhappiness would ever occur, even by concomitance. God would have chosen a sequence of possibles where all these evils would be excluded. But God would fail in what is due to the universe, that is, in what he owes to himself. If there were only spirits they would be without the required connexion, without the order of time and place. This order demands matter, movement and its laws; to adjust these to spirits in the best possible way means to return to our world. When one looks at things only in the mass, one imagines to be practicable a thousand things that cannot properly take place. To wish that God should not give free will to rational creatures is to wish that there be none of these creatures; and to wish that God should prevent them from misusing it is to wish that there be none but these creatures alone, together with what was made for them only. If God had none but these creatures in view, he would doubtless prevent them from destroying themselves. One may say in a sense, however, that God has given to these creatures the art of always making good use of their free will, for the natural light of reason is this art. But it would be necessary always to have the will to do good, and often creatures lack the means of giving themselves the will they ought to have; often they even lack the will to use those means which indirectly give a good will. Of this I have already spoken more than once. This fault must be admitted, and one must even acknowledge that God would perhaps have been able to exempt creatures from that fault, since there is nothing to prevent, so it seems, the existence of some whose nature it would be always to have good will. But I reply that it is not necessary, and that it was not feasible for all rational creatures to have so great a perfection,[193] and such as would bring them so close to the Divinity. It may even be that that can only be made possible by a special divine grace. But in this case, would it be proper for God to grant it to all, that is, always to act miraculously in respect of all rational creatures? Nothing would be less rational than these perpetual miracles. There are degrees among creatures: the general order requires it. And it appears quite consistent with the order of divine government that the great privilege of strengthening in the good should be granted more easily to those who had a good will when they were in a more imperfect state, in the state of struggle and of pilgrimage, _in Ecclesia militante, in statu viatorum_. The good angels themselves were not created incapable of sin. Nevertheless I would not dare to assert that there are no blessed creatures born, or such as are sinless and holy by their nature. There are perhaps people who give this privilege to the Blessed Virgin, since, moreover, the Roman Church to-day places her above the angels. But it suffices us that the universe is very great and very varied: to wish to limit it is to have little knowledge thereof. 'But', M. Bayle goes on, 'God has given free will to creatures capable of sinning, without their having asked him for this grace. And he who gave such a gift would be more answerable for the unhappiness that it brought upon those who made use of it, than if he had granted it only in response to their importunate prayers.' But importunity in prayers makes no difference to God; he knows better than we what we need, and he only grants what serves the interest of the whole. It seems that M. Bayle here makes free will consist in the faculty for sinning; yet he acknowledges elsewhere that God and the Saints are free, without having this faculty. However that may be, I have already shown fully that God, doing what his wisdom and his goodness combined ordain, is not answerable for the evil that he permits. Even men, when they do their duty, are not answerable for consequences, whether they foresee them or not. 121. VI. 'It is as sure a means of taking a man's life to give him a silk cord that one knows certainly he will make use of freely to strangle himself, as to plant a few dagger thrusts in his body. One desires his death not less when one makes use of the first way, than when one employs the second: it even seems as though one desires it with a more malicious intention, since one tends to leave to him the whole trouble and the whole blame of his destruction.' [194] Those who write treatises on Duties (De Officiis) as, for instance, Cicero, St. Ambrose, Grotius, Opalenius, Sharrok, Rachelius, Pufendorf, as well as the Casuists, teach that there are cases where one is not obliged to return to its owner a thing deposited: for example, one will not give back a dagger when one knows that he who has deposited it is about to stab someone. Let us pretend that I have in my hands the fatal draught that Meleager's mother will make use of to kill him; the magic javelin that Cephalus will unwittingly employ to kill his Procris; the horses of Theseus that will tear to pieces Hippolytus, his son: these things are demanded back from me, and I am right in refusing them, knowing the use that will be made of them. But how will it be if a competent judge orders me to restore them, when I cannot prove to him what I know of the evil consequences that restitution will have, Apollo perchance having given to me, as to Cassandra, the gift of prophecy under the condition that I shall not be believed? I should then be compelled to make restitution, having no alternative other than my own destruction: thus I cannot escape from contributing towards the evil. Another comparison: Jupiter promises Semele, the Sun Phaeton, Cupid Psyche to grant whatever favour the other shall ask. They swear by the Styx, _Di cujus jurare timent et fallere Numen_. One would gladly stop, but too late, the request half heard, _Voluit Deus ora loquentis_ _Opprimere; exierat jam vox properata sub auras_. One would gladly draw back after the request was made, making vain remonstrances; but they press you, they say to you: 'Do you make oaths that you will not keep?' The law of the Styx is inviolable, one must needs submit to it; if one has erred in making the oath, one would err more in not keeping it; the promise must be fulfilled, however harmful it may be to him who exacts it. It would be ruinous to you if you did not fulfil it. It seems as though the moral of these fables implies that a supreme necessity may constrain one to comply with evil. God, in truth, knows no other judge that can compel him to give what may turn to evil, he is not like Jupiter who fears the Styx. But his own wisdom is the greatest judge that he can find, there is no appeal from its judgements: they are the decrees of destiny. The eternal verities, objects of his wisdom, are more [195] inviolable than the Styx. These laws and this judge do not constrain: they are stronger, for they persuade. Wisdom only shows God the best possible exercise of his goodness: after that, the evil that occurs is an inevitable result of the best. I will add something stronger: To permit the evil, as God permits it, is the greatest goodness. _Si mala sustulerat, non erat ille bonus._ One would need to have a bent towards perversity to say after this that it is more malicious to leave to someone the whole trouble and the whole blame of his destruction. When God does leave it to a man, it has belonged to him since before his existence; it was already in the idea of him as still merely possible, before the decree of God which makes him to exist. Can one, then, leave it or give it to another? There is the whole matter. 122. VII. 'A true benefactor gives promptly, and does not wait to give until those he loves have suffered long miseries from the privation of what he could have imparted to them at first very easily, and without causing any inconvenience to himself. If the limitation of his forces does not permit him to do good without inflicting pain or some other inconvenience, he acquiesces in this, but only regretfully, and he never employs this way of rendering service when he can render it without mingling any kind of evil in his favours. If the profit one could derive from the evils he inflicted could spring as easily from an unalloyed good as from those evils, he would take the straight road of unalloyed good, and not the indirect road that would lead from the evil to the good. If he showers riches and honours, it is not to the end that those who have enjoyed them, when they come to lose them, should be all the more deeply afflicted in proportion to their previous experience of pleasure, and that thus they should become more unhappy than the persons who have always been deprived of these advantages. A malicious being would shower good things at such a price upon the people for whom he had the most hatred.' (Compare this passage of Aristotle, _Rhetor._, 1. 2, c. 23, p. m. 446: [Greek: hoion ei doiê an tis tini hina aphelomenos leipêsêi; hothen kai tout' eirêtai,] [Greek: pollois ho daimôn ou kat' eunoian pherôn] [Greek: Megala didôsin eutychêmat', all' hina] [Greek: tas symphoras labôsin epiphanesteras.] [196] Id est: Veluti si quis alicui aliquid det, ut (postea) hoc (ipsi) erepto (ipsum) afficiat dolore. Unde etiam illud est dictum: _Bona magna multis non amicus dat Deus,_ _Insigniore ut rursus his privet malo._) All these objections depend almost on the same sophism; they change and mutilate the fact, they only half record things: God has care for men, he loves the human race, he wishes it well, nothing so true. Yet he allows men to fall, he often allows them to perish, he gives them goods that tend towards their destruction; and when he makes someone happy, it is after many sufferings: where is his affection, where is his goodness or again where is his power? Vain objections, which suppress the main point, which ignore the fact that it is of God one speaks. It is as though one were speaking of a mother, a guardian, a tutor, whose well-nigh only care is concerned with the upbringing, the preservation, the happiness of the person in question, and who neglect their duty. God takes care of the universe, he neglects nothing, he chooses what is best on the whole. If in spite of all that someone is wicked and unhappy, it behoved him to be so. God (so they say) could have given happiness to all, he could have given it promptly and easily, and without causing himself any inconvenience, for he can do all. But should he? Since he does not so, it is a sign that he had to act altogether differently. If we infer from this either that God only regretfully, and owing to lack of power, fails to make men happy and to give the good first of all and without admixture of evil, or else that he lacks the good will to give it unreservedly and for good and all, then we are comparing our true God with the God of Herodotus, full of envy, or with the demon of the poet whose iambics Aristotle quotes, and I have just translated into Latin, who gives good things in order that he may cause more affliction by taking them away. That would be trifling with God in perpetual anthropomorphisms, representing him as a man who must give himself up completely to one particular business, whose goodness must be chiefly exercised upon those objects alone which are known to us, and who lacks either aptitude or good will. God is not lacking therein, he could do the good that we would desire; he even wishes it, taking it separately, but he must not do it in preference to other greater goods which are opposed to it. Moreover, one has no cause to complain of the fact that usually [197] one attains salvation only through many sufferings, and by bearing the cross of Jesus Christ. These evils serve to make the elect imitators of their master, and to increase their happiness. 123. VIII. 'The greatest and the most substantial glory that he who is the master of others can gain is to maintain amongst them virtue, order, peace, contentment of mind. The glory that he would derive from their unhappiness can be nothing but a false glory.' If we knew the city of God just as it is, we should see that it is the most perfect state which can be devised; that virtue and happiness reign there, as far as is possible, in accordance with the laws of the best; that sin and unhappiness (whose entire exclusion from the nature of things reasons of the supreme order did not permit), are well-nigh nothing there in comparison with the good, and even are of service for greater good. Now since these evils were to exist, there must needs be some appointed to be subject to them, and we are those people. If it were others, would there not be the same appearance of evil? Or rather, would not these others be those known as We? When God derives some glory from the evil through having made it serve a greater good, it was proper that he should derive that glory. It is not therefore a false glory, as would be that of a prince who overthrew his state in order to have the honour of setting it up again. 124. IX. 'The way whereby that master can give proof of greatest love for virtue is to cause it, if he can, to be always practised without any mixture of vice. If it is easy for him to procure for his subjects this advantage, and nevertheless he permits vice to raise its head, save that he punishes it finally after having long tolerated it, his affection for virtue is not the greatest one can conceive; it is therefore not infinite.' I am not yet half way through the nineteen maxims, and already I am weary of refuting, and making the same answer always. M. Bayle multiplies unnecessarily his so-called maxims in opposition to my dogmas. If things connected together may be separated, the parts from their whole, the human kind from the universe, God's attributes the one from the other, power from wisdom, it may be said that God _can cause_ virtue to be in the world without any mixture of vice, and even that he can do so _easily_. But, since he has permitted vice, it must be that that order of the universe which was found preferable to every other plan required it. One must believe that it is not permitted to do otherwise, since it is not [198] possible to do better. It is a hypothetical necessity, a moral necessity, which, far from being contrary to freedom, is the effect of its choice. _Quae rationi contraria sunt, ea nec fieri a Sapiente posse credendum est_. The objection is made here, that God's affection for virtue is therefore not the greatest which can be conceived, that it is not _infinite_. To that an answer has already been given on the second maxim, in the assertion that God's affection for any created thing whatsoever is proportionate to the value of the thing. Virtue is the noblest quality of created things, but it is not the only good quality of creatures. There are innumerable others which attract the inclination of God: from all these inclinations there results the most possible good, and it turns out that if there were only virtue, if there were only rational creatures, there would be less good. Midas proved to be less rich when he had only gold. And besides, wisdom must vary. To multiply one and the same thing only would be superfluity, and poverty too. To have a thousand well-bound Vergils in one's library, always to sing the airs from the opera of Cadmus and Hermione, to break all the china in order only to have cups of gold, to have only diamond buttons, to eat nothing but partridges, to drink only Hungarian or Shiraz wine--would one call that reason? Nature had need of animals, plants, inanimate bodies; there are in these creatures, devoid of reason, marvels which serve for exercise of the reason. What would an intelligent creature do if there were no unintelligent things? What would it think of, if there were neither movement, nor matter, nor sense? If it had only distinct thoughts it would be a God, its wisdom would be without bounds: that is one of the results of my meditations. As soon as there is a mixture of confused thoughts, there is sense, there is matter. For these confused thoughts come from the relation of all things one to the other by way of duration and extent. Thus it is that in my philosophy there is no rational creature without some organic body, and there is no created spirit entirely detached from matter. But these organic bodies vary no less in perfection than the spirits to which they belong. Therefore, since God's wisdom must have a world of bodies, a world of substances capable of perception and incapable of reason; since, in short, it was necessary to choose from all the things possible what produced the best effect together, and since vice entered in by this door, God would not have been altogether good, altogether wise if he had excluded it. [199] 125. X. 'The way to evince the greatest hatred for vice is not indeed to allow it to prevail for a long time and then chastise it, but to crush it before its birth, that is, prevent it from showing itself anywhere. A king, for example, who put his finances in such good order that no malversation was ever committed, would thus display more hatred for the wrong done by factionaries than if, after having suffered them to batten on the blood of the people, he had them hanged.' It is always the same song, it is anthropomorphism pure and simple. A king should generally have nothing so much at heart as to keep his subjects free from oppression. One of his greatest interests is to bring good order into his finances. Nevertheless there are times when he is obliged to tolerate vice and disorders. He has a great war on his hands, he is in a state of exhaustion, he has no choice of generals, it is necessary to humour those he has, those possessed of great authority with the soldiers: a Braccio, a Sforza, a Wallenstein. He lacks money for the most pressing needs, it is necessary to turn to great financiers, who have an established credit, and he must at the same time connive at their malversations. It is true that this unfortunate necessity arises most often from previous errors. It is not the same with God: he has need of no man, he commits no error, he always does the best. One cannot even wish that things may go better, when one understands them: and it would be a vice in the Author of things if he wished to change anything whatsoever in them, if he wished to exclude the vice that was found there. Is this State with perfect government, where good is willed and performed as far as it is possible, where evil even serves the greatest good, comparable with the State of a prince whose affairs are in ruin and who escapes as best he can? Or with that of a prince who encourages oppression in order to punish it, and who delights to see the little men with begging bowls and the great on scaffolds? 126. XI. 'A ruler devoted to the interests of virtue, and to the good of his subjects, takes the utmost care to ensure that they never disobey his laws; and if he must needs chastise them for their disobedience, he sees to it that the penalty cures them of the inclination to evil, and restores in their soul a strong and constant tendency towards good: so far is he from any desire that the penalty for the error should incline them more and more towards evil.' [200] To make men better, God does all that is due, and even all that can be done on his side without detriment to what is due. The most usual aim of punishment is amendment; but it is not the sole aim, nor that which God always intends. I have said a word on that above. Original sin, which disposes men towards evil, is not merely a penalty for the first sin; it is a natural consequence thereof. On that too a word has been said, in the course of an observation on the fourth theological proposition. It is like drunkenness, which is a penalty for excess in drinking and is at the same time a natural consequence that easily leads to new sins. 127. XII. 'To permit the evil that one could prevent is not to care whether it be committed or not, or is even to wish that it be committed.' By no means. How many times do men permit evils which they could prevent if they turned all their efforts in that direction? But other more important cares prevent them from doing so. One will rarely resolve upon adjusting irregularities in the coinage while one is involved in a great war. And the action of an English Parliament in this direction a little before the Peace of Ryswyck will be rather praised than imitated. Can one conclude from this that the State has no anxiety about this irregularity, or even that it desires it? God has a far stronger reason, and one far more worthy of him, for tolerating evils. Not only does he derive from them greater goods, but he finds them connected with the greatest goods of all those that are possible: so that it would be a fault not to permit them. 128. XIII. 'It is a very great fault in those who govern, if they do not care whether there be disorder in their States or not. The fault is still greater if they wish and even desire disorder there. If by hidden and indirect, but infallible, ways they stirred up a sedition in their States to bring them to the brink of ruin, in order to gain for themselves the glory of showing that they have the courage and the prudence necessary for saving a great kingdom on the point of perishing, they would be most deserving of condemnation. But if they stirred up this sedition because there were no other means than that, of averting the total ruin of their subjects and of strengthening on new foundations, and for several centuries, the happiness of nations, one must needs lament the unfortunate necessity (see above, pp. 146, 147, what has been said of the force of[201] necessity) to which they were reduced, and praise them for the use that they made thereof.' This maxim, with divers others set forth here, is not applicable to the government of God. Not to mention the fact that it is only the disorders of a very small part of his kingdom which are brought up in objection, it is untrue that he has no anxiety about evils, that he desires them, that he brings them into being, to have the glory of allaying them. God wills order and good; but it happens sometimes that what is disorder in the part is order in the whole. I have already stated this legal axiom: _Incivile est nisi tota lege inspecta judicare_. The permission of evils comes from a kind of moral necessity: God is constrained to this by his wisdom and by his goodness; _this necessity is happy_, whereas that of the prince spoken of in the maxim is _unhappy_. His State is one of the most corrupt; and the government of God is the best State possible. 129. XIV. 'The permission of a certain evil is only excusable when one cannot remedy it without introducing a greater evil; but it cannot be excusable in those who have in hand a remedy more efficacious against this evil, and against all the other evils that could spring from the suppression of this one.' The maxim is true, but it cannot be brought forward against the government of God. Supreme reason constrains him to permit the evil. If God chose what would not be the best absolutely and in all, that would be a greater evil than all the individual evils which he could prevent by this means. This wrong choice would destroy his wisdom and his goodness. 130. XV. 'The Being infinitely powerful, Creator of matter and of spirits, makes whatever he wills of this matter and these spirits. There is no situation or shape that he cannot communicate to spirits. If he then permitted a physical or a moral evil, this would not be for the reason that otherwise some other still greater physical or moral evil would be altogether inevitable. None of those reasons for the mixture of good and evil which are founded on the limitation of the forces of benefactors can apply to him.' It is true that God makes of matter and of spirits whatever he wills; but he is like a good sculptor, who will make from his block of marble only that which he judges to be the best, and who judges well. God makes of matter the most excellent of all possible machines; he makes of spirits the most excellent of all governments conceivable; and over and above all that, he establishes for their union the most perfect of all harmonies, [202] according to the system I have proposed. Now since physical evil and moral evil occur in this perfect work, one must conclude (contrary to M. Bayle's assurance here) that _otherwise a still greater evil would have been altogether inevitable_. This great evil would be that God would have chosen ill if he had chosen otherwise than he has chosen. It is true that God is infinitely powerful; but his power is indeterminate, goodness and wisdom combined determine him to produce the best. M. Bayle makes elsewhere an objection which is peculiar to him, which he derives from the opinions of the modern Cartesians. They say that God could have given to souls what thoughts he would, without making them depend upon any relation to the body: by this means souls would be spared a great number of evils which only spring from derangement of the body. More will be said of this later; now it is sufficient to bear in mind that God cannot establish a system ill-connected and full of dissonances. It is to some extent the nature of souls to represent bodies. 131. XVI. 'One is just as much the cause of an event when one brings it about in moral ways, as when one brings it about in physical ways. A Minister of State, who, without going out of his study, and simply by utilizing the passions of the leaders of a faction, overthrew all their plots, would thus be bringing about the ruin of this faction, no less than if he destroyed it by a surprise attack.' I have nothing to say against this maxim. Evil is always attributed to moral causes, and not always to physical causes. Here I observe simply that if I could not prevent the sin of others except by committing a sin myself, I should be justified in permitting it, and I should not be accessary thereto, or its moral cause. In God, every fault would represent a sin; it would be even more than sin, for it would destroy Divinity. And it would be a great fault in him not to choose the best. I have said so many times. He would then prevent sin by something worse than all sins. 132. XVII. 'It is all the same whether one employ a necessary cause, or employ a free cause while choosing the moments when one knows it to be determined. If I imagine that gunpowder has the power to ignite or not to ignite when fire touches it, and if I know for certain that it will be disposed to ignite at eight o'clock in the morning, I shall be just as much the cause of its effects if I apply the fire to it at that hour, as I should be in assuming, as is the case, that it is a necessary cause. [203] For where I am concerned it would no longer be a free cause. I should be catching it at the moment when I knew it to be necessitated by its own choice. It is impossible for a being to be free or indifferent with regard to that to which it is already determined, and at the time when it is determined thereto. All that which exists exists of necessity while it exists. [Greek: To einai to on hotan êi, kai to mê einai hotan mê êi, anankê.] "Necesse est id quod est, quando est, esse; et id quod non est, quando non est, non esse": Arist., _De Interpret._, cap. 9. The Nominalists have adopted this maxim of Aristotle. Scotus and sundry other Schoolmen appear to reject it, but fundamentally their distinctions come to the same thing. See the Jesuits of Coimbra on this passage from Aristotle, p. 380 _et seq._)' This maxim may pass also; I would wish only to change something in the phraseology. I would not take 'free' and 'indifferent' for one and the same thing, and would not place 'free' and 'determined' in antithesis. One is never altogether indifferent with an indifference of equipoise; one is always more inclined and consequently more determined on one side than on another: but one is never necessitated to the choice that one makes. I mean here a _necessity_ absolute and metaphysical; for it must be admitted that God, that wisdom, is prompted to the best by a _moral_ necessity. It must be admitted also that one is necessitated to the choice by a hypothetical necessity, when one actually makes the choice; and even before one is necessitated thereto by the very truth of the futurition, since one will do it. These hypothetical necessities do no harm. I have spoken sufficiently on this point already. 133. XVIII. 'When a whole great people has become guilty of rebellion, it is not showing clemency to pardon the hundred thousandth part, and to kill all the rest, not excepting even babes and sucklings.' It seems to be assumed here that there are a hundred thousand times more damned than saved, and that children dying unbaptized are included among the former. Both these points are disputed, and especially the damnation of these children. I have spoken of this above. M. Bayle urges the same objection elsewhere (_Reply to the Questions of a Provincial_, vol. III, ch. 178, p. 1223): 'We see clearly', he says, 'that the Sovereign who wishes to exercise both justice and clemency when a city has revolted must be content with the punishment of a small number of mutineers, and [204] pardon all the rest. For if the number of those who are chastised is as a thousand to one, in comparison with those whom he freely pardons, he cannot be accounted mild, but, on the contrary, cruel. He would assuredly be accounted an abominable tyrant if he chose punishments of long duration, and if he eschewed bloodshed only because he was convinced that men would prefer death to a miserable life; and if, finally, the desire to take revenge were more responsible for his severities than the desire to turn to the service of the common weal the penalty that he would inflict on almost all the rebels. Criminals who are executed are considered to expiate their crimes so completely by the loss of their life, that the public requires nothing more, and is indignant when executioners are clumsy. These would be stoned if they were known deliberately to give repeated strokes of the axe; and the judges who are present at the execution would not be immune from danger if they were thought to take pleasure in this evil sport of the executioners, and to have surreptitiously urged them to practise it.' (Note that this is not to be understood as strictly universal. There are cases where the people approve of the slow killing of certain criminals, as when Francis I thus put to death some persons accused of heresy after the notorious Placards of 1534. No pity was shown to Ravaillac, who was tortured in divers horrible ways. See the _French Mercury_, vol. I, fol. m., 455 _et seq._ See also Pierre Matthieu in his _History of the Death of Henry IV_; and do not forget what he says on page m. 99 concerning the discussion by the judges with regard to the torture of this parricide.) 'Finally it is an exceptionally notorious fact that Rulers who should be guided by St. Paul, I mean who should condemn to the extreme penalty all those whom he condemns to eternal death, would be accounted enemies of the human kind and destroyers of their communities. It is incontestable that their laws, far from being fitted, in accordance with the aim of legislators, to uphold society, would be its complete ruin. (Apply here these words of Pliny the Younger, _Epist._, 22, lib. 8: Mandemus memoriae quod vir mitissimus, et ob hoc quoque maximus, Thrasea crebro dicere solebat, Qui vitia odit, homines odit.)' He adds that it was said of the laws of Draco, an Athenian lawgiver, that they had not been written with ink, but with blood, because they punished all sins with the extreme penalty, and because damnation is a penalty even worse than death. But it must be borne in mind that damnation is a consequence of sin. Thus I [205] once answered a friend, who raised as an objection the disproportion existing between an eternal punishment and a limited crime, that there is no injustice when the continuation of the punishment is only a result of the continuation of the sin. I will speak further on this point later. As for the number of the damned, even though it should be incomparably greater among men than the number of the saved, that would not preclude the possibility that in the universe the happy creatures infinitely outnumber those who are unhappy. Such examples as that of a prince who punishes only the leaders of rebels or of a general who has a regiment decimated, are of no importance here. Self-interest compels the prince and the general to pardon the guilty, even though they should remain wicked. God only pardons those who become better: he can distinguish them; and this severity is more consistent with perfect justice. But if anyone asks why God gives not to all the grace of conversion, the question is of a different nature, having no relation to the present maxim. I have already answered it in a sense, not in order to find God's reasons, but to show that he cannot lack such, and that there are no opposing reasons of any validity. Moreover, we know that sometimes whole cities are destroyed and the inhabitants put to the sword, to inspire terror in the rest. That may serve to shorten a great war or a rebellion, and would mean a saving of blood through the shedding of it: there is no decimation there. We cannot assert, indeed, that the wicked of our globe are punished so severely in order to intimidate the inhabitants of the other globes and to make them better. Yet an abundance of reasons in the universal harmony which are unknown to us, because we know not sufficiently the extent of the city of God, nor the form of the general republic of spirits, nor even the whole architecture of bodies, may produce the same effect. 134. XIX. 'Those physicians who chose, among many remedies capable of curing a sick man, whereof divers were such as they well knew he would take with enjoyment, precisely that one which they knew he would refuse to take, would vainly urge and pray him not to refuse it; we should still have just cause for thinking that they had no desire to cure him: for if they wished to do so, they would choose for him among those good medicines one which they knew he would willingly swallow. If, moreover, they knew that rejection of the remedy they offered him would augment his sickness to[206] the point of making it fatal, one could not help saying that, despite all their exhortations, they must certainly be desirous of the sick man's death.' God wishes to save all men: that means that he would save them if men themselves did not prevent it, and did not refuse to receive his grace; and he is not bound or prompted by reason always to overcome their evil will. He does so sometimes nevertheless, when superior reasons allow of it, and when his consequent and decretory will, which results from all his reasons, makes him resolve upon the election of a certain number of men. He gives aids to all for their conversion and for perseverance, and these aids suffice in those who have good will, but they do not always suffice to give good will. Men obtain this good will either through particular aids or through circumstances which cause the success of the general aids. God cannot refrain from offering other remedies which he knows men will reject, bringing upon themselves all the greater guilt: but shall one wish that God be unjust in order that man may be less criminal? Moreover, the grace that does not serve the one may serve the other, and indeed always serves the totality of God's plan, which is the best possible in conception. Shall God not give the rain, because there are low-lying places which will be thereby incommoded? Shall the sun not shine as much as it should for the world in general, because there are places which will be too much dried up in consequence? In short, all these comparisons, spoken of in these maxims that M. Bayle has just given, of a physician, a benefactor, a minister of State, a prince, are exceedingly lame, because it is well known what their duties are and what can and ought to be the object of their cares: they have scarce more than the one affair, and they often fail therein through negligence or malice. God's object has in it something infinite, his cares embrace the universe: what we know thereof is almost nothing, and we desire to gauge his wisdom and his goodness by our knowledge. What temerity, or rather what absurdity! The objections are on false assumptions; it is senseless to pass judgement on the point of law when one does not know the matter of fact. To say with St. Paul, _O altitudo divitiarum et sapientiae,_ is not renouncing reason, it is rather employing the reasons that we know, for they teach us that immensity of God whereof the Apostle speaks. But therein we confess our ignorance of the facts, and we acknowledge, moreover, before we see it, that God does all the best [207] possible, in accordance with the infinite wisdom which guides his actions. It is true that we have already before our eyes proofs and tests of this, when we see something entire, some whole complete in itself, and isolated, so to speak, among the works of God. Such a whole, shaped as it were by the hand of God, is a plant, an animal, a man. We cannot wonder enough at the beauty and the contrivance of its structure. But when we see some broken bone, some piece of animal's flesh, some sprig of a plant, there appears to be nothing but confusion, unless an excellent anatomist observe it: and even he would recognize nothing therein if he had not before seen like pieces attached to their whole. It is the same with the government of God: that which we have been able to see hitherto is not a large enough piece for recognition of the beauty and the order of the whole. Thus the very nature of things implies that this order in the Divine City, which we see not yet here on earth, should be an object of our faith, of our hope, of our confidence in God. If there are any who think otherwise, so much the worse for them, they are malcontents in the State of the greatest and the best of all monarchs; and they are wrong not to take advantage of the examples he has given them of his wisdom and his infinite goodness, whereby he reveals himself as being not only wonderful, but also worthy of love beyond all things. 135. I hope it will be found that nothing of what is comprised in the nineteen maxims of M. Bayle, which we have just considered, has been left without a necessary answer. It is likely that, having often before meditated on this subject, he will have put there all his strongest convictions touching the moral cause of moral evil. There are, however, still sundry passages here and there in his works which it will be well not to pass over in silence. Very often he exaggerates the difficulty which he assumes with regard to freeing God from the imputation of sin. He observes _(Reply to the Questions of a Provincial_, ch. 161, p. 1024) that Molina, if he reconciled free will with foreknowledge, did not reconcile the goodness and the holiness of God with sin. He praises the sincerity of those who bluntly declare (as he claims Piscator did) that everything is to be traced back to the will of God, and who maintain that God could not but be just, even though he were the author of sin, even though he condemned innocence. And on the other side, or in other passages, he seems to show more approval of the opinions of those who preserve God's goodness at [208] the expense of his greatness, as Plutarch does in his book against the Stoics. 'It was more reasonable', he says, 'to say' (with the Epicureans) 'that innumerable parts' (or atoms flying about at haphazard through an infinite space) 'by their force prevailed over the weakness of Jupiter and, in spite of him and against his nature and will, did many bad and irrational things, than to agree that there is neither confusion nor wickedness but he is the author thereof.' What may be said for both these parties, Stoics and Epicureans, appears to have led M. Bayle to the [Greek: epechein] of the Pyrrhonians, the suspension of his judgement in respect of reason, so long as faith is set apart; and to that he professes sincere submission. 136. Pursuing his arguments, however, he has gone as far as attempting almost to revive and reinforce those of the disciples of Manes, a Persian heretic of the third century after Christ, or of a certain Paul, chief of the Manichaeans in Armenia in the seventh century, from whom they were named Paulicians. All these heretics renewed what an ancient philosopher of Upper Asia, known under the name of Zoroaster, had taught, so it is said, of two intelligent principles of all things, the one good, the other bad, a dogma that had perhaps come from the Indians. Among them numbers of people still cling to their error, one that is exceedingly prone to overtake human ignorance and superstition, since very many barbarous peoples, even in America, have been deluded by it, without having had need of philosophy. The Slavs (according to Helmold) had their Zernebog or black God. The Greeks and Romans, wise as they seem to be, had a Vejovis or Anti-Jupiter, otherwise called Pluto, and numerous other maleficent divinities. The Goddess Nemesis took pleasure in abasing those who were too fortunate; and Herodotus in some passages hints at his belief that all Divinity is envious; which, however, is not in harmony with the doctrine of the two principles. 137. Plutarch, in his treatise _On Isis and Osiris_, knows of no writer more ancient than Zoroaster the magician, as he calls him, that is likely to have taught the two principles. Trogus or Justin makes him a King of the Bactrians, who was conquered by Ninus or Semiramis; he attributes to him the knowledge of astronomy and the invention of magic. But this magic was apparently the religion of the fire-worshippers: and it appears that he looked upon light and heat as the good principle, while he added the [209] evil, that is to say, opacity, darkness, cold. Pliny cites the testimony of a certain Hermippus, an interpreter of Zoroaster's books, according to whom Zoroaster was a disciple in the art of magic to one named Azonacus; unless indeed this be a corruption of Oromases, of whom I shall speak presently, and whom Plato in the _Alcibiades_ names as the father of Zoroaster. Modern Orientals give the name Zerdust to him whom the Greeks named Zoroaster; he is regarded as corresponding to Mercury, because with some nations Wednesday _(mercredi)_ takes its name from him. It is difficult to disentangle the story of Zoroaster and know exactly when he lived. Suidas puts him five hundred years before the taking of Troy. Some Ancients cited by Pliny and Plutarch took it to be ten times as far back. But Xanthus the Lydian (in the preface to Diogenes Laertius) put him only six hundred years before the expedition of Xerxes. Plato declares in the same passage, as M. Bayle observes, that the magic of Zoroaster was nothing but the study of religion. Mr. Hyde in his book on the religion of the ancient Persians tries to justify this magic, and to clear it not only of the crime of impiety but also of idolatry. Fire-worship prevailed among the Persians and the Chaldaeans also; it is thought that Abraham left it when he departed from Ur of the Chaldees. Mithras was the sun and he was also the God of the Persians; and according to Ovid's account horses were offered in sacrifice to him, _Placat equo Persis radiis Hyperiona cinctum,_ _Ne detur celeri victima tarda Deo._ But Mr. Hyde believes that they only made use of the sun and fire in their worship as symbols of the Divinity. It may be necessary to distinguish, as elsewhere, between the Wise and the Multitude. There are in the splendid ruins of Persepolis or of Tschelminaar (which means forty columns) sculptured representations of their ceremonies. An ambassador of Holland had had them sketched at very great cost by a painter, who had devoted a considerable time to the task: but by some chance or other these sketches fell into the hands of a well-known traveller, M. Chardin, according to what he tells us himself. It would be a pity if they were lost. These ruins are one of the most ancient and most beautiful monuments of the earth; and in this respect I wonder at such lack of curiosity in a century so curious as ours. [210] 138. The ancient Greeks and the modern Orientals agree in saying that Zoroaster called the good God Oromazes, or rather Oromasdes, and the evil God Arimanius. When I pondered on the fact that great princes of Upper Asia had the name of Hormisdas and that Irminius or Herminius was the name of a god or ancient hero of the Scythian Celts, that is, of the Germani, it occurred to me that this Arimanius or Irminius might have been a great conqueror of very ancient time coming from the west, just as Genghis Khan and Tamburlaine were later, coming from the east. Arimanius would therefore have come from the north-west, that is, from Germania and Sarmatia, through the territory of the Alani and Massagetae, to raid the dominions of one Ormisdas, a great king in Upper Asia, just as other Scythians did in the days of Cyaxares, King of the Medes, according to the account given by Herodotus. The monarch governing civilized peoples, and working to defend them against the barbarians, would have gone down to posterity, amongst the same peoples, as the good god; but the chief of these devastators will have become the symbol of the evil principle: that is altogether reasonable. It appears from this same mythology that these two princes contended for long, but that neither of them was victorious. Thus they both held their own, just as the two principles shared the empire of the world according to the hypothesis attributed to Zoroaster. 139. It remains to be proved that an ancient god or hero of the Germani was called Herman, Arimanius or Irminius. Tacitus relates that the three tribes which composed Germania, the Ingaevones, the Istaevones and the Herminones or Hermiones, were thus named from the three sons of Mannus. Whether that be true or not, he wished in any case to indicate that there was a hero named Herminius, from whom he was told the Herminones were named. Herminones, Hermenner, Hermunduri all mean the same, that is, Soldiers. Even in the Dark Ages Arimanni were _viri militares,_ and there is _feudum Arimandiae_ in Lombard law. 140. I have shown elsewhere that apparently the name of one part of Germania was given to the whole, and that from these Herminones or Hermunduri all the Teutonic peoples were named _Hermanni_ or _Germani_. The difference between these two words is only in the force of the aspiration: there is the same difference of initial letter between the _Germani_ of the Latins and _Hermanos_ of the Spaniards, or in the _Gammarus_ of the Latins and the _Hummer_ (that is, marine crayfish) of the Low Germans. [211] Besides it is very usual for one part of a nation to give the name to the whole: so all the Germani were called Alemanni by the French, and yet this, according to the old nomenclature, only applied to the Suabians and the Swiss. Although Tacitus did not actually know the origin of the name of the Germani, he said something which supports my opinion, when he observed that it was a name which inspired terror, taken or given _ob metum_. In fact it signifies a warrior: _Heer_, _Hari_ is army, whence comes _Hariban_, or 'call to Haro', that is, a general order to be with the army, since corrupted into _Arrièreban_. Thus Hariman or Ariman, German _Guerre-man_, is a soldier. For as _Hari_, _Heer_ means army, so _Wehr_ signifies arms, _Wehren_ to fight, to make war, the word _Guerre_, _Guerra_ coming doubtless from the same source. I have already spoken of the _feudum Arimandiae_: not only did Herminones or Germani signify the same, but also that ancient Herman, so-called son of Mannus, appears to have been given this name as being pre-eminently a warrior. 141. Now it is not the passage in Tacitus only which indicates for us this god or hero: we cannot doubt the existence of one of this name among these peoples, since Charlemagne found and destroyed near the Weser the column called _Irminsäule_, erected in honour of this god. And that combined with the passage in Tacitus leaves us with the conclusion that it was not that famous Arminius who was an enemy of the Romans, but a much greater and more ancient hero, that this cult concerned. Arminius bore the same name as those who are called Hermann to-day. Arminius was not great enough, nor fortunate enough, nor well enough known throughout Germania to attain to the honour of a public cult, even at the hands of remote tribes, like the Saxons, who came long after him into the country of the Cherusci. And our Arminius, taken by the Asiatics for the evil God, provides ample confirmation of my opinion. For in these matters conjectures confirm one another without any logical circle, when their foundations tend towards one and the same end. 142. It is not beyond belief that the Hermes (that is, Mercury) of the Greeks is the same Herminius or Arimanius. He may have been an inventor or promoter of the arts and of a slightly more civilized life among his own people and in the countries where he held supremacy, while amongst his enemies he was looked upon as the author of confusion. Who knows but that he may have penetrated even into Egypt, like the Scythians who in [212] pursuit of Sesostris came nearly so far. Theut, Menes and Hermes were known and revered in Egypt. They might have been Tuiscon, his son Mannus and Herman, son of Mannus, according to the genealogy of Tacitus. Menes is held to be the most ancient king of the Egyptians; 'Theut' was with them a name for Mercury. At least Theut or Tuiscon, from whom Tacitus derives the descent of the Germani, and from whom the Teutons, _Tuitsche_ (that is, Germani) even to-day have their name, is the same as that _Teutates_ who according to Lucan was worshipped by the Gauls, and whom Caesar took _pro Dite Patre_, for Pluto, because of the resemblance between his Latin name and that of _Teut_ or _Thiet_, _Titan_, _Theodon_; this in ancient times signified men, people, and also an excellent man (like the word 'baron'), in short, a prince. There are authorities for all these significations: but one must not delay over this point. Herr Otto Sperling, who is well known for various learned writings, but has many more in readiness to appear, in a special dissertation has treated the question of this Teutates, God of the Celts. Some observations which I imparted to him on that subject have been published, with his reply, in the _Literary News of the Baltic Sea_. He interprets this passage from Lucan somewhat otherwise than I do: _Teutates, pollensque feris altaribus Hesus,_ _Et Tamaris Scythicae non mitior ara Dianae._ Hesus was, it appears, the God of War, who was called Ares by the Greeks and Erich by the ancient Germani, whence still remains _Erichtag_, Tuesday. The letters R and S, which are produced by the same organ, are easily interchanged, for instance: _Moor_ and _Moos_, _Geren_ and _Gesen_, _Er war_ and _Er was_, _Fer_, _Hierro_, _Eiron_, _Eisen_. Likewise _Papisius_, _Valesius_, _Fusius_, instead of _Papirius_, _Valerius_, _Furius_, with the ancient Romans. As for Taramis or perhaps Taranis, one knows that _Taran_ was the thunder, or the God of Thunder, with the ancient Celts, called _Thor_ by the Germani of the north; whence the English have preserved the name 'Thursday', _jeudi_, _diem Jovis_. And the passage from Lucan means that the altar of Taran, God of the Celts, was not less cruel than that of Diana in Tauris: _Taranis aram non mitiorem ara Dianae Scythicae fuisse_. 143. It is also not impossible that there was a time when the western [213] or Celtic princes made themselves masters of Greece, of Egypt and a good part of Asia, and that their cult remained in those countries. When one considers with what rapidity the Huns, the Saracens and the Tartars gained possession of a great part of our continent one will be the less surprised at this; and it is confirmed by the great number of words in the Greek and German tongues which correspond so closely. Callimachus, in a hymn in honour of Apollo, seems to imply that the Celts who attacked the Temple at Delphi, under their Brennus, or chief, were descendants of the ancient Titans and Giants who made war on Jupiter and the other gods, that is to say, on the Princes of Asia and of Greece. It may be that Jupiter is himself descended from the Titans or Theodons, that is, from the earlier Celto-Scythian princes; and the material collected by the late Abbé de la Charmoye in his _Celtic Origins_ conforms to that possibility. Yet there are opinions on other matters in this work by this learned writer which to me do not appear probable, especially when he excludes the Germani from the number of the Celts, not having recalled sufficiently the facts given by ancient writers and not being sufficiently aware of the relation between the ancient Gallic and Germanic tongues. Now the so-called Giants, who wished to scale the heavens, were new Celts who followed the path of their ancestors; and Jupiter, although of their kindred, as it were, was constrained to resist them. Just so did the Visigoths established in Gallic territory resist, together with the Romans, other peoples of Germania and Scythia, who succeeded them under Attila their leader, he being at that time in control of the Scythian, Sarmatic and Germanic tribes from the frontiers of Persia up to the Rhine. But the pleasure one feels when one thinks to find in the mythologies of the gods some trace of the old history of fabulous times has perhaps carried me too far, and I know not whether I shall have been any more successful than Goropius Becanus, Schrieckius, Herr Rudbeck and the Abbe de la Charmoye. 144. Let us return to Zoroaster, who led us to Oromasdes and Arimanius, the sources of good and evil, and let us assume that he looked upon them as two eternal principles opposed to each other, although there is reason to doubt this assumption. It is thought that Marcion, disciple of Cerdon, was of this opinion before Manes. M. Bayle acknowledges that these men used lamentable arguments; but he thinks that they did not sufficiently [214] recognize their advantages or know how to apply their principal instrument, which was the difficulty over the origin of evil. He believes that an able man on their side would have thoroughly embarrassed the orthodox, and it seems as though he himself, failing any other, wished to undertake a task so unnecessary in the opinion of many people. 'All the hypotheses' (he says, _Dictionary_, v., 'Marcion', p. 2039) 'that Christians have established parry but poorly the blows aimed at them: they all triumph when they act on the offensive; but they lose their whole advantage when they have to sustain the attack.' He confesses that the 'Dualists' (as with Mr. Hyde he calls them), that is, the champions of two principles, would soon have been routed by _a priori_ reasons, taken from the nature of God; but he thinks that they triumph in their turn when one comes to the _a posteriori_ reasons, which are taken from the existence of evil. 145. He treats of the matter with abundant detail in his _Dictionary_, article 'Manichaeans', p. 2025, which we must examine a little, in order to throw greater light upon this subject: 'The surest and clearest ideas of order teach us', he says, 'that a Being who exists through himself, who is necessary, who is eternal, must be single, infinite, all powerful, and endowed with all kinds of perfections.' This argument deserves to have been developed more completely. 'Now it is necessary to see', he goes on, 'if the phenomena of nature can be conveniently explained by the hypothesis of one single principle.' I have explained it sufficiently by showing that there are cases where some disorder in the part is necessary for producing the greatest order in the whole. But it appears that M. Bayle asks a little too much: he wishes for a detailed exposition of how evil is connected with the best possible scheme for the universe. That would be a complete explanation of the phenomena: but I do not undertake to give it; nor am I bound to do so, for there is no obligation to do that which is impossible for us in our existing state. It is sufficient for me to point out that there is nothing to prevent the connexion of a certain individual evil with what is the best on the whole. This incomplete explanation, leaving something to be discovered in the life to come, is sufficient for answering the objections, though not for a comprehension of the matter. 146. 'The heavens and all the rest of the universe', adds M. Bayle, 'preach the glory, the power, the oneness of God.' Thence the conclusion [215] should have been drawn that this is the case (as I have already observed above) because there is seen in these objects something entire and isolated, so to speak. Every time we see such a work of God, we find it so perfect that we must wonder at the contrivance and the beauty thereof: but when we do not see an entire work, when we only look upon scraps and fragments, it is no wonder if the good order is not evident there. Our planetary system composes such an isolated work, which is complete also when it is taken by itself; each plant, each animal, each man furnishes one such work, to a certain point of perfection: one recognizes therein the wonderful contrivance of the author. But the human kind, so far as it is known to us, is only a fragment, only a small portion of the City of God or of the republic of Spirits, which has an extent too great for us, and whereof we know too little, to be able to observe the wonderful order therein. 'Man alone,' says M. Bayle, 'that masterpiece of his Creator among things visible, man alone, I say, gives rise to great objections with regard to the oneness of God.' Claudian made the same observation, unburdening his heart in these well-known lines: _Saepe mihi dubiam traxit sententia mentem_, etc. But the harmony existing in all the rest allows of a strong presumption that it would exist also in the government of men, and generally in that of Spirits, if the whole were known to us. One must judge the works of God as wisely as Socrates judged those of Heraclitus in these words: What I have understood thereof pleases me; I think that the rest would please me no less if I understood it. 147. Here is another particular reason for the disorder apparent in that which concerns man. It is that God, in giving him intelligence, has presented him with an image of the Divinity. He leaves him to himself, in a sense, in his small department, _ut Spartam quam nactus est ornet_. He enters there only in a secret way, for he supplies being, force, life, reason, without showing himself. It is there that free will plays its game: and God makes game (so to speak) of these little Gods that he has thought good to produce, as we make game of children who follow pursuits which we secretly encourage or hinder according as it pleases us. Thus man is there like a little god in his own world or _Microcosm_, which he governs [216] after his own fashion: he sometimes performs wonders therein, and his art often imitates nature. _Jupiter in parvo cum cerneret aethera vitro,_ _Risit et ad Superos talia dicta dedit:_ _Huccine mortalis progressa potentia, Divi?_ _Jam meus in fragili luditur orbe labor._ _Jura poli rerumque fidem legesque Deorum_ _Cuncta Syracusius transtulit arte Senex._ _Quid falso insontem tonitru Salmonea miror?_ _Aemula Naturae est parva reperta manus._ But he also commits great errors, because he abandons himself to the passions, and because God abandons him to his own way. God punishes him also for such errors, now like a father or tutor, training or chastising children, now like a just judge, punishing those who forsake him: and evil comes to pass most frequently when these intelligences or their small worlds come into collision. Man finds himself the worse for this, in proportion to his fault; but God, by a wonderful art, turns all the errors of these little worlds to the greater adornment of his great world. It is as in those devices of perspective, where certain beautiful designs look like mere confusion until one restores them to the right angle of vision or one views them by means of a certain glass or mirror. It is by placing and using them properly that one makes them serve as adornment for a room. Thus the apparent deformities of our little worlds combine to become beauties in the great world, and have nothing in them which is opposed to the oneness of an infinitely perfect universal principle: on the contrary, they increase our wonder at the wisdom of him who makes evil serve the greater good. 148. M. Bayle continues: 'that man is wicked and miserable; that there are everywhere prisons and hospitals; that history is simply a collection of the crimes and calamities of the human race.' I think that there is exaggeration in that: there is incomparably more good than evil in the life of men, as there are incomparably more houses than prisons. With regard to virtue and vice, a certain mediocrity prevails. Machiavelli has already observed that there are few very wicked and very good men, and that this causes the failure of many great enterprises. I find it a great fault in historians that they keep their mind on the evil more than on the [217] good. The chief end of history, as also of poetry, should be to teach prudence and virtue by examples, and then to display vice in such a way as to create aversion to it and to prompt men to avoid it, or serve towards that end. 149. M. Bayle avows: 'that one finds everywhere both moral good and physical good, some examples of virtue, some examples of happiness, and that this is what makes the difficulty. For if there were only wicked and unhappy people', he says, 'there would be no need to resort to the hypothesis of the two principles.' I wonder that this admirable man could have evinced so great an inclination towards this opinion of the two principles; and I am surprised at his not having taken into account that this romance of human life, which makes the universal history of the human race, lay fully devised in the divine understanding, with innumerable others, and that the will of God only decreed its existence because this sequence of events was to be most in keeping with the rest of things, to bring forth the best result. And these apparent faults in the whole world, these spots on a Sun whereof ours is but a ray, rather enhance its beauty than diminish it, contributing towards that end by obtaining a greater good. There are in truth two principles, but they are both in God, to wit, his understanding and his will. The understanding furnishes the principle of evil, without being sullied by it, without being evil; it represents natures as they exist in the eternal verities; it contains within it the reason wherefore evil is permitted: but the will tends only towards good. Let us add a third principle, namely power; it precedes even understanding and will, but it operates as the one displays it and as the other requires it. 150. Some (like Campanella) have called these three perfections of God the three primordialities. Many have even believed that there was therein a secret connexion with the Holy Trinity: that power relates to the Father, that is, to the source of Divinity, wisdom to the Eternal Word, which is called _logos_ by the most sublime of the Evangelists, and will or Love to the Holy Spirit. Well-nigh all the expressions or comparisons derived from the nature of the intelligent substance tend that way. 151. It seems to me that if M. Bayle had taken into account what I have just said of the principles of things, he would have answered his own questions, or at the least he would not have continued to ask, as he does in these which follow: 'If man is the work of a single principle [218] supremely good, supremely holy, supremely powerful, can he be subject to diseases, to cold, heat, hunger, thirst, pain, grief? Can he have so many evil tendencies? Can he commit so many crimes? Can supreme goodness produce an unhappy creature? Shall not supreme power, united to an infinite goodness, shower blessings upon its work, and shall it not banish all that might offend or grieve?' Prudentius in his _Hamartigenia_ presented the same difficulty: _Si non vult Deus esse malum, cur non vetat? inquit._ _Non refert auctor fuerit, factorve malorum._ _Anne opera in vitium sceleris pulcherrima verti,_ _Cum possit prohibere, sinat; quod si velit omnes_ _Innocuos agere Omnipotens, ne sancta voluntas_ _Degeneret, facto nec se manus inquinet ullo?_ _Condidit ergo malum Dominus, quod spectat ab alto,_ _Et patitur fierique probat, tanquam ipse crearit._ _Ipse creavit enim, quod si discludere possit,_ _Non abolet, longoque sinit grassarier usu._ But I have already answered that sufficiently. Man is himself the source of his evils: just as he is, he was in the divine idea. God, prompted by essential reasons of wisdom, decreed that he should pass into existence just as he is. M. Bayle would perchance have perceived this origin of evil in the form in which I demonstrate it here, if he had herein combined the wisdom of God with his power, his goodness and his holiness. I will add, in passing, that his _holiness_ is nothing other than the highest degree of goodness, just as the crime which is its opposite is the worst of all evil. 152. M. Bayle places the Greek philosopher Melissus, champion of the oneness of the first principle (and perhaps even of the oneness of substance) in conflict with Zoroaster, as with the first originator of duality. Zoroaster admits that the hypothesis of Melissus is more consistent with order and _a priori_ reasons, but he denies its conformity with experience and _a posteriori_ reasons. 'I surpass you', he said, 'in the explanation of phenomena, which is the principal mark of a good system.' But, in my opinion, it is not a very good explanation of a phenomenon to assign to it an _ad hoc_ principle: to evil, a _principium maleficum_, to cold, a _primum frigidum_; there is nothing so easy and nothing so dull. It is well-nigh as if someone were to say that the [219] Peripatetics surpass the new mathematicians in the explanation of the phenomena of the stars, by giving them _ad hoc_ intelligences to guide them. According to that, it is quite easy to conceive why the planets make their way with such precision; whereas there is need of much geometry and reflexion to understand how from the gravity of the planets, which bears them towards the sun, combined with some whirlwind which carries them along, or with their own motive force, can spring the elliptic movement of Kepler, which satisfies appearances so well. A man incapable of relishing deep speculations will at first applaud the Peripatetics and will treat our mathematicians as dreamers. Some old Galenist will do the same with regard to the faculties of the Schoolmen: he will admit a chylific, a chymific and a sanguific, and he will assign one of these _ad hoc_ to each operation; he will think he has worked wonders, and will laugh at what he will call the chimeras of the moderns, who claim to explain through mechanical structure what passes in the body of an animal. 153. The explanation of the cause of evil by a particular principle, _per principium maleficum_, is of the same nature. Evil needs no such explanation, any more than do cold and darkness: there is neither _primum frigidum_ nor principle of darkness. Evil itself comes only from privation; the positive enters therein only by concomitance, as the active enters by concomitance into cold. We see that water in freezing is capable of breaking a gun-barrel wherein it is confined; and yet cold is a certain privation of force, it only comes from the diminution of a movement which separates the particles of fluids. When this separating motion becomes weakened in the water by the cold, the particles of compressed air concealed in the water collect; and, becoming larger, they become more capable of acting outwards through their buoyancy. The resistance which the surfaces of the proportions of air meet in the water, and which opposes the force exerted by these portions towards dilation, is far less, and consequently the effect of the air greater, in large air-bubbles than in small, even though these small bubbles combined should form as great a mass as the large. For the resistances, that is, the surfaces, increase by the _square_, and the forces, that is, the contents or the volumes of the spheres of compressed air, increase by the _cube_, of their diameters. Thus it is _by accident_ that privation involves action and force. I have already shown how privation is enough to cause error and malice, and [220] how God is prompted to permit them, despite that there be no malignity in him. Evil comes from privation; the positive and action spring from it by accident, as force springs from cold. 154. The statement that M. Bayle attributes to the Paulicians, p. 2323, is not conclusive, to wit, that free will must come from two principles, to the end that it may have power to turn towards good and towards evil: for, being simple in itself, it should rather have come from a neutral principle if this argument held good. But free will tends towards good, and if it meets with evil it is by accident, for the reason that this evil is concealed beneath the good, and masked, as it were. These words which Ovid ascribes to Medea, _Video meliora proboque,_ _Deteriora sequor_, imply that the morally good is mastered by the agreeably good, which makes more impression on souls when they are disturbed by the passions. 155. Furthermore, M. Bayle himself supplies Melissus with a good answer; but a little later he disputes it. Here are his words, p. 2025: 'If Melissus consults the notions of order, he will answer that man was not wicked when God made him; he will say that man received from God a happy state, but that not having followed the light of conscience, which in accordance with the intention of its author should have guided him along the path of virtue, he has become wicked, and has deserved that God the supremely good should make him feel the effects of his anger. It is therefore not God who is the cause of moral evil: but he is the cause of physical evil, that is, of the punishment of moral evil. And this punishment, far from being incompatible with the supremely good principle, of necessity emanates from that one of its attributes, I mean its justice, which is not less essential to it than its goodness. This answer, the most reasonable that Melissus can give, is fundamentally good and sound, but it may be disputed by something more specious and more dazzling. For indeed Zoroaster objects that the infinitely good principle ought to have created man not only without actual evil, but also without the inclination towards evil; that God, having foreseen sin with all its consequences, ought to have prevented it; that he ought to have impelled man to moral good, and not to have allowed him any force for tending towards crime.' That is quite easy to say, but it is not practicable if one follows the principles [221] of order: it could not have been accomplished without perpetual miracles. Ignorance, error and malice follow one another naturally in animals made as we are: should this species, then, have been missing in the universe? I have no doubt but that it is too important there, despite all its weaknesses, for God to have consented to its abolition. 156. M. Bayle, in the article entitled 'Paulicians' inserted by him in his _Dictionary_, follows up the pronouncements he made in the article on the Manichaeans. According to him (p. 2330, lit. H) the orthodox seem to admit two first principles, in making the devil the originator of sin. M. Becker, a former minister of Amsterdam, author of the book entitled _The World Bewitched_, has made use of this idea in order to demonstrate that one should not assign such power and authority to the Devil as would allow of his comparison with God. Therein he is right: but he pushes the conclusions too far. And the author of the book entitled [Greek: Apokatastasis Pantôn] believes that if the Devil had never been vanquished and despoiled, if he had always kept his prey, if the title of invincible had belonged to him, that would have done injury to the glory of God. But it is a poor advantage to keep those whom one has led astray in order to share their punishment for ever. And as for the cause of evil, it is true that the Devil is the author of sin. But the origin of sin comes from farther away, its source is in the original imperfection of creatures: that renders them capable of sinning, and there are circumstances in the sequence of things which cause this power to evince itself in action. 157. The devils were angels like the rest before their fall, and it is thought that their leader was one of the chief among angels; but Scripture is not explicit enough on that point. The passage of the Apocalypse that speaks of the struggle with the Dragon, as of a vision, leaves much in doubt, and does not sufficiently develop a subject which by the other sacred writers is hardly mentioned. It is not in place here to enter into this discussion, and one must still admit that the common opinion agrees best with the sacred text. M. Bayle examines some replies of St. Basil, of Lactantius and others on the origin of evil. As, however, they are concerned with physical evil, I postpone discussion thereof, and I will proceed with the examination of the difficulties over the moral cause of moral evil, which arise in several passages of the works of our gifted author. [222] 158. He disputes the _permission_ of this evil, he would wish one to admit that God _wills_ it. He quotes these words of Calvin (on Genesis, ch. 3): 'The ears of some are offended when one says that God willed it. But I ask you, what else is the permission of him who is entitled to forbid, or rather who has the thing in his own hands, but an act of will?' M. Bayle explains these words of Calvin, and those which precede them, as if he admitted that God willed the fall of Adam, not in so far as it was a crime, but under some other conception that is unknown to us. He quotes casuists who are somewhat lax, who say that a son can desire the death of his father, not in so far as it is an evil for himself but in so far as it is a good for his heirs _(Reply to the Questions of a Provincial_, ch. 147, p. 850). It seems to me that Calvin only says that God willed man's fall for some reason unknown to us. In the main, when it is a question of a decisive will, that is, of a decree, these distinctions are useless: one wills the action with all its qualities, if it is true that one wills it. But when it is a crime, God can only will the permission of it: the crime is neither an end nor a means, it is only a _conditio sine qua non_; thus it is not the object of a direct will, as I have already demonstrated above. God cannot prevent it without acting against what he owes to himself, without doing something that would be worse than the crime of man, without violating the rule of the best; and that would be to destroy divinity, as I have already observed. God is therefore bound by a moral necessity, which is in himself, to permit moral evil in creatures. There is precisely the case wherein the will of a wise mind is only permissive. I have already said this: he is bound to permit the crime of others when he cannot prevent it without himself failing in that which he owes to himself. 159. 'But among all these infinite combinations', says M. Bayle (p. 853), 'it pleased God to choose one wherein Adam was to sin, and by his decree he made it, in preference to all the others, the plan that should come to pass.' Very good; that is speaking my language; so long as one applies it to the combinations which compose the whole universe. 'You will therefore never make us understand', he adds, 'how God did not will that Eve and Adam should sin, since he rejected all the combinations wherein they would not have sinned.' But the thing is in general very easy to understand, from all that I have just said. This combination that makes the whole universe is the best; God therefore could not refrain from choosing it without [223] incurring a lapse, and rather than incur such, a thing altogether inappropriate to him, he permits the lapse or the sin of man which is involved in this combination. 160. M. Jacquelot, with other able men, does not differ in opinion from me, when for example he says, p. 186 of his treatise on the _Conformity of Faith with Reason_: 'Those who are puzzled by these difficulties seem to be too limited in their outlook, and to wish to reduce all God's designs to their own interests. When God formed the universe, his whole prospect was himself and his own glory, so that if we had knowledge of all creatures, of their diverse combinations and of their different relations, we should understand without difficulty that the universe corresponds perfectly to the infinite wisdom of the Almighty.' He says elsewhere (p. 232): 'Supposing the impossible, that God could not prevent the wrong use of free will without destroying it, it will be agreed that since his wisdom and his glory determined him to form free creatures this powerful reason must have prevailed over the grievous consequences which their freedom might have.' I have endeavoured to develop this still further through _the reason of the best and the moral necessity_ which led God to make this choice, despite the sin of some creatures which is involved therein. I think that I have cut down to the root of the difficulty; nevertheless I am well pleased, for the sake of throwing more light on the matter, to apply my principle of solution to the peculiar difficulties of M. Bayle. 161. Here is one, set forth in these terms (ch. 148, p. 856): 'Would it in a prince be a mark of his kindness: 1. To give to a hundred messengers as much money as is needed for a journey of two hundred leagues? 2. To promise a recompense to all those who should finish the journey without having borrowed anything, and to threaten with imprisonment all those whom their money should not have sufficed? 3. To make choice of a hundred persons, of whom he would know for certain that there were but two who should earn the recompense, the ninety-eight others being destined to find on the way either a mistress or a gamester or some other thing which would make them incur expenses, and which he would himself have been at pains to dispose in certain places along their path? 4. To imprison actually ninety-eight of these messengers on the moment of their return? Is it not abundantly evident that he would have no kindness for them, and that on the contrary he would intend for them, not the proposed recompense, but prison? [224] They would deserve it, certainly; but he who had wished them to deserve it and placed them in the sure way towards deserving it, should he be worthy of being called kind, on the pretext that he had recompensed the two others?' It would doubtless not be on that account that he earned the title of 'kind'. Yet other circumstances may contribute, which would avail to render him worthy of praise for having employed this artifice in order to know those people, and to make trial of them; just as Gideon made use of some extraordinary means of choosing the most valiant and the least squeamish among his soldiers. And even if the prince were to know already the disposition of all these messengers, may he not put them to this test in order to make them known also to the others? Even though these reasons be not applicable to God, they make it clear, nevertheless, that an action like that of this prince may appear preposterous when it is detached from the circumstances indicating its cause. All the more must one deem that God has acted well, and that we should see this if we fully knew of all that he has done. 162. M. Descartes, in a letter to the Princess Elizabeth (vol. 1, letter 10) has made use of another comparison to reconcile human freedom with the omnipotence of God. 'He imagines a monarch who has forbidden duels, and who, knowing for certain that two noblemen, if they meet, will fight, takes sure steps to bring about their meeting. They meet indeed, they fight: their disobedience of the law is an effect of their free will, they are punishable. What a king can do in such a case (he adds) concerning some free actions of his subjects, God, who has infinite foreknowledge and power, certainly does concerning all those of men. Before he sent us into this world he knew exactly what all the tendencies of our will would be: he has endued us therewith, he also has disposed all other things that are outside us, to cause such and such objects to present themselves to our senses at such and such a time. He knew that as a result of this our free will would determine us toward some particular thing, and he has willed it thus; but he has not for that willed to constrain our free will thereto. In this king one may distinguish two different degrees of will, the one whereby he willed that these noblemen should fight, since he brought about their meeting, and the other whereby he did not will it, since he forbade duels. Even so theologians distinguish in God an absolute and independent will, whereby he wills that all things be done just as they are done, [225] and another which is relative, and which concerns the merit or demerit of men, whereby he wills that his Laws be obeyed' (Descartes, letter 10 of vol. 1, pp. 51, 52. Compare with that the quotation made by M. Arnauld, vol. 2, p. 288 _et seqq_. of his _Reflexions on the System of Malebranche_, from Thomas Aquinas, on the antecedent and consequent will of God). 163. Here is M. Bayle's reply to that (_Reply to the Questions of a Provincial_, ch. 154, p. 943): 'This great philosopher is much mistaken, it seems to me. There would not be in this monarch any degree of will, either small or great, that these two noblemen should obey the law, and not fight. He would will entirely and solely that they should fight. That would not exculpate them, they would only follow their passion, they would be unaware that they conformed to the will of their sovereign: but he would be in truth the moral cause of their encounter, and he would not more entirely wish it supposing he were to inspire them with the desire or to give them the order for it. Imagine to yourself two princes each of whom wishes his eldest son to poison himself. One employs constraint, the other contents himself with secretly causing a grief that he knows will be sufficient to induce his son to poison himself. Will you be doubtful whether the will of the latter is less complete than the will of the former? M. Descartes is therefore assuming an unreal fact and does not at all solve the difficulty.' 164. One must confess that M. Descartes speaks somewhat crudely of the will of God in regard to evil in saying not only that God knew that our free will would determine us toward some particular thing, but also _that he also wished it_, albeit he did not will to constrain the will thereto. He speaks no less harshly in the eighth letter of the same volume, saying that not the slightest thought enters into the mind of a man which God does not _will_, and has not willed from all eternity, to enter there. Calvin never said anything harsher; and all that can only be excused if it is to be understood of a permissive will. M. Descartes' solution amounts to the distinction between the will expressed in the sign and the will expressive of the good pleasure (_inter voluntatem signi et beneplaciti_) which the moderns have taken from the Schoolmen as regards the terms, but to which they have given a meaning not usual among the ancients. It is true that God may command something and yet not will that it be done, as when he commanded Abraham to sacrifice his son: he willed the obedience, and he did not will the action. But when God commands the virtuous action and [226] forbids the sin, he wills indeed that which he ordains, but it is only by an antecedent will, as I have explained more than once. 165. M. Descartes' comparison is therefore not satisfactory; but it may be made so. One must make some change in the facts, inventing some reason to oblige the prince to cause or permit the two enemies to meet. They must, for instance, be together in the army or in other obligatory functions, a circumstance the prince himself cannot hinder without endangering his State. For example, the absence of either of them might be responsible for the disappearance of innumerable persons of his party from the army or cause grumbling among the soldiers and give rise to some great disturbance. In this case, therefore, one may say that the prince does not will the duel: he knows of it, but he permits it notwithstanding, for he prefers permitting the sin of others to committing one himself. Thus this corrected comparison may serve, provided that one observe the difference between God and the prince. The prince is forced into this permission by his powerlessness; a more powerful monarch would have no need of all these considerations; but God, who has power to do all that is possible, only permits sin because it is absolutely impossible to anyone at all to do better. The prince's action is peradventure not free from sorrow and regret. This regret is due to his imperfection, of which he is sensible; therein lies displeasure. God is incapable of such a feeling and finds, moreover, no cause therefor; he is infinitely conscious of his own perfection, and it may even be said that the imperfection in creatures taken individually changes for him into perfection in relation to the whole, and that it is an added glory for the Creator. What more can one wish, when one possesses a boundless wisdom and when one is as powerful as one is wise; when one can do all and when one has the best? 166. Having once understood these things, we are hardened sufficiently, so it seems to me, against the strongest and most spirited objections. I have not concealed them: but there are some we shall merely touch upon, because they are too odious. The Remonstrants and M. Bayle (_Reply to the Questions of a Provincial_, vol. III, ch. 152, end page 919) quote St. Augustine, saying, '_crudelem esse misericordiam velle aliquem miserum esse ut eius miserearis_': in the same sense is cited Seneca _De Benef._, L. 6, c. 36, 37. I confess that one would have some reason to urge that against those who believed that God has no other cause for permitting sin than the [227] design to have something wherewith to exercise punitive justice against the majority of men, and his mercy towards a small number of elect. But it must be considered that God had reasons for his permission of sin, more worthy of him and more profound in relation to us. Someone has dared to compare God's course of action with that of a Caligula, who has his edicts written in so small a hand and has them placarded in so high a place that it is not possible to read them; with that of a mother who neglects her daughter's honour in order to attain her own selfish ends; with that of Queen Catherine de Medicis, who is said to have abetted the love-affairs of her ladies in order to learn of the intrigues of the great; and even with that of Tiberius, who arranged, through the extraordinary services of the executioner, that the law forbidding the subjection of a virgin to capital punishment should no longer apply to the case of Sejanus's daughter. This last comparison was proposed by Peter Bertius, then an Armenian, but finally a member of the Roman communion. And a scandalous comparison has been made between God and Tiberius, which is related at length by Andreas Caroli in his _Memorabilia Ecclesiastica_ of the last century, as M. Bayle observes. Bertius used it against the Gomarists. I think that arguments of this kind are only valid against those who maintain that justice is an arbitrary thing in relation to God; or that he has a despotic power which can go so far as being able to condemn innocents; or, in short, that good is not the motive of his actions. 167. At that same time an ingenious satire was composed against the Gomarists, entitled _Fur praedestinatus, de gepredestineerdedief_, wherein there is introduced a thief condemned to be hanged, who attributes to God all the evil he has done; who believes himself predestined to salvation notwithstanding his wicked actions; who imagines that this belief is sufficient for him, and who defeats by arguments _ad hominem_ a Counter-remonstrant minister called to prepare him for death: but this thief is finally converted by an old pastor who had been dismissed for his Arminianism, whom the gaoler, in pity for the criminal and for the weakness of the minister, had brought to him secretly. Replies were made to this lampoon, but replies to satires never please as much as the satires themselves. M. Bayle (_Reply to the Questions of a Provincial_, vol. III, ch. 154, p. 938) says that this book was printed in England in the [228] time of Cromwell, and he appears not to have been informed that it was only a translation of the much older original Flemish. He adds that Dr. George Kendal wrote a confutation of it at Oxford in the year 1657, under the title of _Fur pro Tribunali_, and that the dialogue is there inserted. This dialogue presupposes, contrary to the truth, that the Counter-remonstrants make God the cause of evil, and teach a kind of predestination in the Mahometan manner according to which it does not matter whether one does good or evil, and the assumption that one is predestined assures the fact. They by no means go so far. Nevertheless it is true that there are among them some Supralapsarians and others who find it hard to declare themselves in clear terms upon the justice of God and the principles of piety and morals in man. For they imagine despotism in God, and demand that man be convinced, without reason, of the absolute certainty of his election, a course that is liable to have dangerous consequences. But all those who acknowledge that God produces the best plan, having chosen it from among all possible ideas of the universe; that he there finds man inclined by the original imperfection of creatures to misuse his free will and to plunge into misery; that God prevents the sin and the misery in so far as the perfection of the universe, which is an emanation from his, may permit it: those, I say, show forth more clearly that God's intention is the one most right and holy in the world; that the creature alone is guilty, that his original limitation or imperfection is the source of his wickedness, that his evil will is the sole cause of his misery; that one cannot be destined to salvation without also being destined to the holiness of the children of God, and that all hope of election one can have can only be founded upon the good will infused into one's heart by the grace of God. 168. _Metaphysical considerations_ also are brought up against my explanation of the moral cause of moral evil; but they will trouble me less since I have dismissed the objections derived from moral reasons, which were more impressive. These metaphysical considerations concern the nature of the _possible_ and of the _necessary_; they go against my fundamental assumption that God has chosen the best of all possible worlds. There are philosophers who have maintained that there is nothing possible except that which actually happens. These are those same people who thought or could have thought that all is necessary unconditionally. Some were of this [229] opinion because they admitted a brute and blind necessity in the cause of the existence of things: and it is these I have most reason for opposing. But there are others who are mistaken only because they misuse terms. They confuse moral necessity with metaphysical necessity: they imagine that since God cannot help acting for the best he is thus deprived of freedom, and things are endued with that necessity which philosophers and theologians endeavour to avoid. With these writers my dispute is only one of words, provided they admit in very deed that God chooses and does the best. But there are others who go further, they think that God could have done better. This is an opinion which must be rejected: for although it does not altogether deprive God of wisdom and goodness, as do the advocates of blind necessity, it sets bounds thereto, thus derogating from God's supreme perfection. 169. The question of the _possibility of things that do not happen_ has already been examined by the ancients. It appears that Epicurus, to preserve freedom and to avoid an absolute necessity, maintained, after Aristotle, that contingent futurities were not susceptible of determinate truth. For if it was true yesterday that I should write to-day, it could therefore not fail to happen, it was already necessary; and, for the same reason, it was from all eternity. Thus all that which happens is necessary, and it is impossible for anything different to come to pass. But since that is not so it would follow, according to him, that contingent futurities have no determinate truth. To uphold this opinion, Epicurus went so far as to deny the first and the greatest principle of the truths of reason, he denied that every assertion was either true or false. Here is the way they confounded him: 'You deny that it was true yesterday that I should write to-day; it was therefore false.' The good man, not being able to admit this conclusion, was obliged to say that it was neither true nor false. After that, he needs no refutation, and Chrysippus might have spared himself the trouble he took to prove the great principle of contradictories, following the account by Cicero in his book _De Fato_: 'Contendit omnes nervos Chrysippus ut persuadeat omne [Greek: Axiôma] aut verum esse aut falsum. Ut enim Epicurus veretur ne si hoc concesserit, concedendum sit, fato fieri quaecunque fiant; si enim alterum ex aeternitate verum sit, esse id etiam certum; si certum, etiam necessarium; ita et necessitatem et fatum confirmari putat; sic Chrysippus metuit ne non, si non obtinuerit omne[230] quod enuncietur aut verum esse aut falsum, omnia fato fieri possint ex causis aeternis rerum futurarum.' M. Bayle observes (_Dictionary_, article 'Epicurus', let. T, p. 1141) 'that neither of these two great philosophers [Epicurus and Chrysippus] understood that the truth of this maxim, every proposition is true or false, is independent of what is called _fatum_: it could not therefore serve as proof of the existence of the _fatum_, as Chrysippus maintained and as Epicurus feared. Chrysippus could not have conceded, without damaging his own position, that there are propositions which are neither true nor false. But he gained nothing by asserting the contrary: for, whether there be free causes or not, it is equally true that this proposition, The Grand Mogul will go hunting to-morrow, is true or false. Men rightly regarded as ridiculous this speech of Tiresias: All that I shall say will happen or not, for great Apollo confers on me the faculty of prophesying. If, assuming the impossible, there were no God, it would yet be certain that everything the greatest fool in the world should predict would happen or would not happen. That is what neither Chrysippus nor Epicurus has taken into consideration.' Cicero, lib. I, _De Nat. Deorum_, with regard to the evasions of the Epicureans expressed the sound opinion (as M. Bayle observes towards the end of the same page) that it would be much less shameful to admit that one cannot answer one's opponent, than to have recourse to such answers. Yet we shall see that M. Bayle himself confused the certain with the necessary, when he maintained that the choice of the best rendered things necessary. 170. Let us come now to the possibility of things that do not happen, and I will give the very words of M. Bayle, albeit they are somewhat discursive. This is what he says on the matter in his _Dictionary_ (article 'Chrysippus', let. S, p. 929): 'The celebrated dispute on things possible and things impossible owed its origin to the doctrine of the Stoics concerning fate. The question was to know whether, among the things which have never been and never will be, there are some possible; or whether all that is not, all that has never been, all that will never be, was impossible. A famous dialectician of the Megaric Sect, named Diodorus, gave a negative answer to the first of these two questions and an affirmative to the second; but Chrysippus vehemently opposed him. Here are two passages of Cicero (epist. 4, lib. 9, _Ad Familiar._): "[Greek: peri dynatôn] me scito [Greek: kata Diodôron krinein]. Quapropter si venturus es, scito [231] necesse esse te venire. Sin autem non es, [Greek: tôn adynatôn] est te venire. Nunc vide utra te [Greek: krisis] magis delectet, [Greek: Chrysippeia] ne, an haec; quam noster Diodorus [a Stoic who for a long time had lived in Cicero's house] non concoquebat." This is quoted from a letter that Cicero wrote to Varro. He sets forth more comprehensively the whole state of the question, in the little book _De Fato_. I am going to quote a few pieces (Cic., _De Fato_, p. m. 65): "Vigila, Chrysippe, ne tuam causam, in qua tibi cum Diodoro valente Dialectico magna luctatio est, deseras ... omne ergo quod falsum dicitur in futuro, id fieri non potest. At hoc, Chrysippe, minime vis, maximeque tibi de hoc ipso cum Diodoro certamen est. Ille enim id solum fieri posse dicit, quod aut sit verum, aut futurum sit verum; et quicquid futurum sit, id dicit fieri necesse esse; et quicquid non sit futurum, id negat fieri posse. Tu etiam quae non sint futura, posse fieri dicis, ut frangi hanc gemmam, etiamsi id nunquam futurum sit: neque necesse fuisse Cypselum regnare Corinthi, quamquam id millesimo ante anno Apollinis Oraculo editum esset.... Placet Diodoro, id solum fieri posse, quod aut verum sit, aut verum futurum sit: qui locus attingit hanc quaestionem, nihil fieri, quod non necesse fuerit; et quicquid fieri possit, id aut esse jam, aut futurum esse: nec magis commutari ex veris in falsa ea posse quae futura sunt, quam ea quae facta sunt: sed in factis immutabilitatem apparere; in futuris quibusdam, quia non apparent, ne inesse quidem videri: ut in eo qui mortifero morbo urgeatur, verum sit, hic morietur hoc morbo: at hoc idem si vere dicatur in eo, in quo tanta vis morbi non appareat, nihilominus futurum sit. Ita fit ut commutatio ex vero in falsum, ne in futuro quidem ulla fieri possit." Cicero makes it clear enough that Chrysippus often found himself in difficulties in this dispute, and that is no matter for astonishment: for the course he had chosen was not bound up with his dogma of fate, and, if he had known how, or had dared, to reason consistently, he would readily have adopted the whole hypothesis of Diodorus. We have seen already that the freedom he assigned to the soul, and his comparison of the cylinder, did not preclude the possibility that in reality all the acts of the human will were unavoidable consequences of fate. Hence it follows that everything which does not happen is impossible, and that there is nothing possible but that which actually comes to pass. Plutarch (_De Stoicor. Repugn._, pp. 1053, 1054) discomfits him completely, on that point as well as on the dispute [232] with Diodorus, and maintains that his opinion on possibility is altogether contrary to the doctrine of _fatum_. Observe that the most eminent Stoics had written on this matter without following the same path. Arrian (in _Epict._, lib. 2, c. 29, p. m. 166) named four of them, who are Chrysippus, Cleanthes, Archidemus and Antipater. He evinces great scorn for this dispute; and M. Menage need not have cited him as a writer who had spoken in commendation of the work of Chrysippus [Greek: peri dynatôn] ("citatur honorifice apud Arrianum", Menag. in _Laert._, I, 7, 341) for assuredly these words, "[Greek: gegraphe de kai Chrysippos thaumastôs], etc., de his rebus mira scripsit Chrysippus", etc., are not in that connexion a eulogy. That is shown by the passages immediately before and after it. Dionysius of Halicarnassus (_De Collocat. Verbor._, c. 17, p. m. 11) mentions two treatises by Chrysippus, wherein, under a title that promised something different, much of the logicians' territory had been explored. The work was entitled "[Greek: peri tês syntaxeôs tôn tou logou merôn], de partium orationis collocatione", and treated only of propositions true and false, possible and impossible, contingent and equivocal, etc., matter that our Schoolmen have pounded down and reduced to its essence. Take note that Chrysippus recognized that past things were necessarily true, which Cleanthes had not been willing to admit. (Arrian, _ubi supra_, p. m. 165.) "[Greek: Ou pan de parelêlythos alêthes anankaion esti, kathaper hoi peri Kleanthên pheresthai dokousi]. Non omne praeteritum ex necessitate verum est, ut illi qui Cleanthem sequuntur sentiunt." We have already seen (p. 562, col. 2) that Abélard is alleged to have taught a doctrine which resembles that of Diodorus. I think that the Stoics pledged themselves to give a wider range to possible things than to future things, for the purpose of mitigating the odious and frightful conclusions which were drawn from their dogma of fatality.' It is sufficiently evident that Cicero when writing to Varro the words that have just been quoted (lib. 9, Ep. 4, _Ad Familiar._) had not enough comprehension of the effect of Diodorus's opinion, since he found it preferable. He presents tolerably well in his book _De Fato_ the opinions of those writers, but it is a pity that he has not always added the reasons which they employed. Plutarch in his treatise on the contradictions of the Stoics and M. Bayle are both surprised that Chrysippus was not of the same opinion as Diodorus, since he favours fatality. But Chrysippus and even his master Cleanthes were on that point more reasonable than is supposed. [233] That will be seen as we proceed. It is open to question whether the past is more necessary than the future. Cleanthes held the opinion that it is. The objection is raised that it is necessary _ex hypothesi_ for the future to happen, as it is necessary _ex hypothesi_ for the past to have happened. But there is this difference, that it is not possible to act on the past state, that would be a contradiction; but it is possible to produce some effect on the future. Yet the hypothetical necessity of both is the same: the one cannot be changed, the other will not be; and once that is past, it will not be possible for it to be changed either. 171. The famous Pierre Abélard expressed an opinion resembling that of Diodorus in the statement that God can do only that which he does. It was the third of the fourteen propositions taken from his works which were censured at the Council of Sens. It had been taken from the third book of his _Introduction to Theology_, where he treats especially of the power of God. The reason he gave for his statement was that God can do only that which he wills. Now God cannot will to do anything other than that which he does, because, of necessity, he must will whatever is fitting. Hence it follows that all that which he does not, is not fitting, that he cannot will to do it, and consequently that he cannot do it. Abélard admits himself that this opinion is peculiar to him, that hardly anyone shares in it, that it seems contrary to the doctrine of the saints and to reason and derogatory to the greatness of God. It appears that this author was a little too much inclined to speak and to think differently from others: for in reality this was only a dispute about words: he was changing the use of terms. Power and will are different faculties, whose objects also are different; it is confusing them to say that God can do only that which he wills. On the contrary, among various possibles, he wills only that which he finds the best. For all possibles are regarded as objects of power, but actual and existing things are regarded as the objects of his decretory will. Abélard himself acknowledged it. He raises this objection for himself: a reprobate can be saved; but he can only be saved if God saves him. God can therefore save him, and consequently do something that he does not. Abélard answers that it may indeed be said that this man can be saved in respect of the possibility of human nature, which is capable of salvation: but that it may not be said that God can save him in respect of God himself, because it is impossible that God should do that which he[234] must not do. But Abélard admits that it may very well be said in a sense, speaking absolutely and setting aside the assumption of reprobation, that such an one who is reprobate can be saved, and that thus often that which God does not can be done. He could therefore have spoken like the rest, who mean nothing different when they say that God can save this man, and that he can do that which he does not. 172. The so-called necessity of Wyclif, which was condemned by the Council of Constance, seems to arise simply from this same misunderstanding. I think that men of talent do wrong to truth and to themselves when, without reason, they bring into use new and displeasing expressions. In our own time the celebrated Mr. Hobbes supported this same opinion, that what does not happen is impossible. He proves it by the statement that all the conditions requisite for a thing that shall not exist (_omnia rei non futurae requisita_) are never found together, and that the thing cannot exist otherwise. But who does not see that that only proves a hypothetical impossibility? It is true that a thing cannot exist when a requisite condition for it is lacking. But as we claim to be able to say that the thing can exist although it does not exist, we claim in the same way to be able to say that the requisite conditions can exist although they do not exist. Thus Mr. Hobbes's argument leaves the matter where it is. The opinion which was held concerning Mr. Hobbes, that he taught an absolute necessity of all things, brought upon him much discredit, and would have done him harm even had it been his only error. 173. Spinoza went further: he appears to have explicitly taught a blind necessity, having denied to the Author of Things understanding and will, and assuming that good and perfection relate to us only, and not to him. It is true that Spinoza's opinion on this subject is somewhat obscure: for he grants God thought, after having divested him of understanding, _cogitationem, non intellectum concedit Deo_. There are even passages where he relents on the question of necessity. Nevertheless, as far as one can understand him, he acknowledges no goodness in God, properly speaking, and he teaches that all things exist through the necessity of the divine nature, without any act of choice by God. We will not waste time here in refuting an opinion so bad, and indeed so inexplicable. My own opinion is founded on the nature of the possibles, that is, of things that imply [235] no contradiction. I do not think that a Spinozist will say that all the romances one can imagine exist actually now, or have existed, or will still exist in some place in the universe. Yet one cannot deny that romances such as those of Mademoiselle de Scudéry, or as _Octavia_, are possible. Let us therefore bring up against him these words of M. Bayle, which please me well, on page 390, 'It is to-day', he says, 'a great embarrassment for the Spinozists to see that, according to their hypothesis, it was as impossible from all eternity that Spinoza, for instance, should not die at The Hague, as it is impossible for two and two to make six. They are well aware that it is a necessary conclusion from their doctrine, and a conclusion which disheartens, affrights, and stirs the mind to revolt, because of the absurdity it involves, diametrically opposed to common sense. They are not well pleased that one should know they are subverting a maxim so universal and so evident as this one: All that which implies contradiction is impossible, and all that which implies no contradiction is possible.' 174. One may say of M. Bayle, 'ubi bene, nemo melius', although one cannot say of him what was said of Origen, 'ubi male, nemo pejus'. I will only add that what has just been indicated as a maxim is in fact the definition of the _possible_ and the _impossible_. M. Bayle, however, adds here towards the end a remark which somewhat spoils his eminently reasonable statement. 'Now what contradiction would there be if Spinoza had died in Leyden? Would Nature then have been less perfect, less wise, less powerful?' He confuses here what is impossible because it implies contradiction with what cannot happen because it is not meet to be chosen. It is true that there would have been no contradiction in the supposition that Spinoza died in Leyden and not at The Hague; there would have been nothing so possible: the matter was therefore indifferent in respect of the power of God. But one must not suppose that any event, however small it be, can be regarded as indifferent in respect of his wisdom and his goodness. Jesus Christ has said divinely well that everything is numbered, even to the hairs of our head. Thus the wisdom of God did not permit that this event whereof M. Bayle speaks should happen otherwise than it happened, not as if by itself it would have been more deserving of choice, but on account of its connexion with that entire sequence of the universe which deserved to be given preference. To say that what has already happened was of no interest to the wisdom of God, and[236] thence to infer that it is therefore not necessary, is to make a false assumption and argue incorrectly to a true conclusion. It is confusing what is necessary by moral necessity, that is, according to the principle of Wisdom and Goodness, with what is so by metaphysical and brute necessity, which occurs when the contrary implies contradiction. Spinoza, moreover, sought a metaphysical necessity in events. He did not think that God was determined by his goodness and by his perfection (which this author treated as chimeras in relation to the universe), but by the necessity of his nature; just as the semicircle is bound to enclose only right angles, without either knowing or willing this. For Euclid demonstrated that all angles enclosed between two straight lines drawn from the extremities of the diameter towards a point on the circumference of the circle are of necessity right angles, and that the contrary implies contradiction. 175. There are people who have gone to the other extreme: under the pretext of freeing the divine nature from the yoke of necessity they wished to regard it as altogether indifferent, with an indifference of equipoise. They did not take into account that just as metaphysical necessity is preposterous in relation to God's actions _ad extra_, so moral necessity is worthy of him. It is a happy necessity which obliges wisdom to do good, whereas indifference with regard to good and evil would indicate a lack of goodness or of wisdom. And besides, the indifference which would keep the will in a perfect equipoise would itself be a chimera, as has been already shown: it would offend against the great principle of the determinant reason. 176. Those who believe that God established good and evil by an arbitrary decree are adopting that strange idea of mere indifference, and other absurdities still stranger. They deprive God of the designation _good_: for what cause could one have to praise him for what he does, if in doing something quite different he would have done equally well? And I have very often been surprised that divers Supralapsarian theologians, as for instance Samuel Rutherford, a Professor of Theology in Scotland, who wrote when the controversies with the Remonstrants were at their height, could have been deluded by so strange an idea. Rutherford (in his _Exercitationes Apologeticae pro Gratia_) says positively that nothing is unjust or morally bad in God's eyes before he has forbidden it: thus without this prohibition it would be a matter of indifference whether one murdered or saved a [237] man, loved God or hated him, praised or blasphemed him. Nothing is so unreasonable as that. One may teach that God established good and evil by a positive law, or one may assert that there was something good and just before his decree, but that he is not required to conform to it, and that nothing prevents him from acting unjustly and from perhaps condemning innocence: but it all comes to the same thing, offering almost equal dishonour to God. For if justice was established arbitrarily and without any cause, if God came upon it by a kind of hazard, as when one draws lots, his goodness and his wisdom are not manifested in it, and there is nothing at all to attach him to it. If it is by a purely arbitrary decree, without any reason, that he has established or created what we call justice and goodness, then he can annul them or change their nature. Thus one would have no reason to assume that he will observe them always, as it would be possible to say he will observe them on the assumption that they are founded on reasons. The same would hold good more or less if his justice were different from ours, if (for example) it were written in his code that it is just to make the innocent eternally unhappy. According to these principles also, nothing would compel God to keep his word or would assure us of its fulfilment. For why should the law of justice, which states that reasonable promises must be kept, be more inviolable for him than any other laws? 177. All these three dogmas, albeit a little different from one another, namely, (1) that the nature of justice is arbitrary, (2) that it is fixed, but it is not certain that God will observe it, and finally (3) that the justice we know is not that which he observes, destroy the confidence in God that gives us tranquillity, and the love of God that makes our happiness. There is nothing to prevent such a God from behaving as a tyrant and an enemy of honest folk, and from taking pleasure in that which we call evil. Why should he not, then, just as well be the evil principle of the Manichaeans as the single good principle of the orthodox? At least he would be neutral and, as it were, suspended between the two, or even sometimes the one and sometimes the other. That would be as if someone were to say that Oromasdes and Arimanius reign in turns, according to which of the two is the stronger or the more adroit. It is like the saying of a certain Moghul woman. She, so it seems, having heard it said that formerly under Genghis Khan and his successors her nation had had dominion over most [238] of the North and East, told the Muscovites recently, when M. Isbrand went to China on behalf of the Czar, through the country of those Tartars, that the god of the Moghuls had been driven from Heaven, but that one day he would take his own place again. The true God is always the same: natural religion itself demands that he be essentially as good and wise as he is powerful. It is scarcely more contrary to reason and piety to say that God acts without cognition, than to maintain that he has cognition which does not find the eternal rules of goodness and of justice among its objects, or again to say that he has a will such as heeds not these rules. 178. Some theologians who have written of God's right over creatures appear to have conceded to him an unrestricted right, an arbitrary and despotic power. They thought that would be placing divinity on the most exalted level that may be imagined for it, and that it would abase the creature before the Creator to such an extent that the Creator is bound by no laws of any kind with respect to the creature. There are passages from Twiss, Rutherford and some other Supralapsarians which imply that God cannot sin whatever he may do, because he is subject to no law. M. Bayle himself considers that this doctrine is monstrous and contrary to the holiness of God (_Dictionary_, v. 'Paulicians', p. 2332 _in initio_); but I suppose that the intention of some of these writers was less bad than it seems to be. Apparently they meant by the term right, [Greek: anypeuthynian], a state wherein one is responsible to none for one's actions. But they will not have denied that God owes to himself what goodness and justice demand of him. On that matter one may see M. Amyraut's _Apology for Calvin_: it is true that Calvin appears orthodox on this subject, and that he is by no means one of the extreme Supralapsarians. 179. Thus, when M. Bayle says somewhere that St. Paul extricates himself from predestination only through the consideration of God's absolute right, and the incomprehensibility of his ways, it is implied that, if one understood them, one would find them consistent with justice, God not being able to use his power otherwise. St. Paul himself says that it is a _depth_, but a depth of wisdom (_altitudo sapientiae_), and _justice_ is included in _the goodness of the All-wise_. I find that M. Bayle speaks very well elsewhere on the application of our notions of goodness to the actions of God (_Reply to the Questions of a Provincial_, ch. 81, p. 139): 'One must not assert here', he says, 'that the goodness of the [239] infinite Being is not subject to the same rules as the goodness of the creature. For if there is in God an attribute that can be called goodness, the marks of goodness in general must apply to him. Now when we reduce goodness to the most general abstraction, we find therein the will to do good. Divide and subdivide into as many kinds as you shall please this general goodness, into infinite goodness, finite goodness, kingly goodness, goodness of a father, goodness of a husband, goodness of a master, you will find in each, as an inseparable attribute, the will to do good.' 180. I find also that M. Bayle combats admirably the opinion of those who assert that goodness and justice depend solely upon the arbitrary choice of God; who suppose, moreover, that if God had been determined by the goodness of things themselves to act, he would be entirely subjected to necessity in his actions, a state incompatible with freedom. That is confusing metaphysical necessity with moral necessity. Here is what M. Bayle says in objection to this error (_Reply_, ch. 89, p. 203): 'The consequence of this doctrine will be, that before God resolved upon creating the world he saw nothing better in virtue than in vice, and that his ideas did not show him that virtue was more worthy of his love than vice. That leaves no distinction between natural right and positive right; there will no longer be anything unalterable or inevitable in morals; it will have been just as possible for God to command people to be vicious as to command them to be virtuous; and one will have no certainty that the moral laws will not one day be abrogated, as the ceremonial laws of the Jews were. This, in a word, leads us straight to the belief that God was the free author, not only of goodness and of virtue, but also of truth and of the essence of things. That is what certain of the Cartesians assert, and I confess that their opinion (see the Continuation of _Divers Thoughts on the Comet_, p. 554) might be of some avail in certain circumstances. Yet it is open to dispute for so many reasons, and subject to consequences so troublesome (see chapter 152 of the same Continuation) that there are scarcely any extremes it were not better to suffer rather than plunge into that one. It opens the door to the most exaggerated Pyrrhonism: for it leads to the assertion that this proposition, three and three make six, is only true where and during the time when it pleases God; that it is perhaps false in some parts of the universe; and that perhaps it will be so among men in the coming year.[240] All that depends on the free will of God could have been limited to certain places and certain times, like the Judaic ceremonies. This conclusion will be extended to all the laws of the Decalogue, if the actions they command are in their nature divested of all goodness to the same degree as the actions they forbid.' 181. To say that God, having resolved to create man just as he is, could not but have required of him piety, sobriety, justice and chastity, because it is impossible that the disorders capable of overthrowing or disturbing his work can please him, that is to revert in effect to the common opinion. Virtues are virtues only because they serve perfection or prevent the imperfection of those who are virtuous, or even of those who have to do with them. And they have that power by their nature and by the nature of rational creatures, before God decrees to create them. To hold a different opinion would be as if someone were to say that the rules of proportion and harmony are arbitrary with regard to musicians because they occur in music only when one has resolved to sing or to play some instrument. But that is exactly what is meant by being essential to good music: for those rules belong to it already in the ideal state, even when none yet thinks of singing, since it is known that they must of necessity belong to it as soon as one shall sing. In the same way virtues belong to the ideal state of the rational creature before God decrees to create it; and it is for that very reason we maintain that virtues are good by their nature. 182. M. Bayle has inserted a special chapter in his Continuation of _Divers Thoughts on the Comet_ (it is chapter 152) where he shows 'that the Christian Doctors teach that there are things which are just antecedently to God's decrees'. Some theologians of the Augsburg Confession censured some of the Reformed who appeared to be of a different opinion; and this error was regarded as if it were a consequence of the absolute decree, which doctrine seems to exempt the will of God from any kind of reason, _ubi stat pro ratione voluntas_. But, as I have observed already on various occasions, Calvin himself acknowledged that the decrees of God are in conformity with justice and wisdom, although the reasons that might prove this conformity in detail are unknown to us. Thus, according to him, the rules of goodness and of justice are anterior to the decrees of God. M. Bayle, in the same place, quotes a passage from the celebrated M. Turretin which draws a distinction between natural divine laws and positive [241] divine laws. Moral laws are of the first kind and ceremonial of the second. Samuel Desmarests, a celebrated theologian formerly at Groningen, and Herr Strinesius, who is still at Frankfort on the Oder, advocated this same distinction; and I think that it is the opinion most widely accepted even among the Reformed. Thomas Aquinas and all the Thomists were of the same opinion, with the bulk of the Schoolmen and the theologians of the Roman Church. The Casuists also held to that idea: I count Grotius among the most eminent of them, and he was followed in this point by his commentators. Herr Pufendorf appeared to be of a different opinion, which he insisted on maintaining in the face of censure from some theologians; but he need not be taken into account, not having advanced far enough in subjects of this kind. He makes a vigorous protest against the absolute decree, in his _Fecialis divinus_, and yet he approves what is worst in the opinions of the champions of this decree, and without which this decree (as others of the Reformed explain) becomes endurable. Aristotle was very orthodox on this matter of justice, and the Schoolmen followed him: they distinguish, just as Cicero and the Jurists do, between perpetual right, which is binding on all and everywhere, and positive right, which is only for certain times and certain peoples. I once read with enjoyment the _Euthyphro_ of Plato, who makes Socrates uphold the truth on that point, and M. Bayle has called attention to the same passage. 183. M. Bayle himself upholds this truth with considerable force in a certain passage, which it will be well to quote here in its entirety, long as it is (vol. II of the Continuation of _Divers Thoughts on the Comet_, ch. 152, p. 771 _seqq._): 'According to the teaching of countless writers of importance', he says, 'there is in nature and in the essence of certain things a moral good or evil that precedes the divine decree. They prove this doctrine principally through the frightful consequences that attend the opposite dogma. Thus from the proposition that to do wrong to no man would be a good action, not in itself but by an arbitrary dispensation of God's will, it would follow that God could have given to man a law directly opposed at all points to the commandments of the Decalogue. That is horrifying. But here is a more direct proof, one derived from metaphysics. One thing is certain, that the existence of God is not an effect of his will. He exists not because he wills his existence, but through the [242] necessity of his infinite nature. His power and his knowledge exist through the same necessity. He is all-powerful, he knows all things, not because he wills it thus, but because these are attributes necessarily identified with him. The dominion of his will relates only to the exercise of his power, he gives effect outside himself only to that which he wills, and he leaves all the rest in the state of mere possibility. Thence it comes that this dominion extends only over the existence of creatures, and not over their essential being. God was able to create matter, a man, a circle, or leave them in nothingness, but he was not able to produce them without giving them their essential properties. He had of necessity to make man a rational animal and to give the round shape to a circle, since, according to his eternal ideas, independent of the free decrees of his will, the essence of man lay in the properties of being animal and rational, and since the essence of the circle lay in having a circumference equally distant from the centre as to all its parts. This is what has caused the Christian philosophers to acknowledge that the essences of things are eternal, and that there are propositions of eternal truth; consequently that the essences of things and the truth of the first principles are immutable. That is to be understood not only of theoretical but also of practical first principles, and of all the propositions that contain the true definition of creatures. These essences and these truths emanate from the same necessity of nature as the knowledge of God. Since therefore it is by the nature of things that God exists, that he is all-powerful, and that he has perfect knowledge of all things, it is also by the nature of things that matter, the triangle, man and certain actions of man, etc., have such and such properties essentially. God saw from all eternity and in all necessity the essential relations of numbers, and the identity of the subject and predicate in the propositions that contain the essence of each thing. He saw likewise that the term just is included in these propositions: to esteem what is estimable, be grateful to one's benefactor, fulfil the conditions of a contract, and so on, with many others relating to morals. One is therefore justified in saying that the precepts of natural law assume the reasonableness and justice of that which is enjoined, and that it would be man's duty to practise what they contain even though God should have been so indulgent as to ordain nothing in that respect. Pray observe that in going back with our visionary thoughts to that ideal moment when God has yet decreed nothing, we find in the [243] ideas of God the principles of morals under terms that imply an obligation. We understand these maxims as certain, and derived from the eternal and immutable order: it beseems the rational creature to conform to reason; a rational creature conforming to reason is to be commended, but not conforming thereto is blameworthy. You would not dare to deny that these truths impose upon man a duty in relation to all acts which are in conformity with strict reason, such as these: one must esteem all that is estimable; render good for good; do wrong to no man; honour one's father; render to every man that which is his due, etc. Now since by the very nature of things, and before the divine laws, the truths of morality impose upon man certain duties, Thomas Aquinas and Grotius were justified in saying that if there were no God we should nevertheless be obliged to conform to natural law. Others have said that even supposing all rational beings in existence were to perish, true propositions would remain true. Cajetan maintained that if he remained alone in the universe, all other things without any exception having been destroyed, the knowledge that he had of the nature of a rose would nevertheless subsist.' 184. The late Jacob Thomasius, a celebrated Professor at Leipzig, made the apt observation in his elucidations of the philosophic rules of Daniel Stahl, a Jena professor, that it is not advisable to go altogether beyond God, and that one must not say, with some Scotists, that the eternal verities would exist even though there were no understanding, not even that of God. For it is, in my judgement, the divine understanding which gives reality to the eternal verities, albeit God's will have no part therein. All reality must be founded on something existent. It is true that an atheist may be a geometrician: but if there were no God, geometry would have no object. And without God, not only would there be nothing existent, but there would be nothing possible. That, however, does not hinder those who do not see the connexion of all things one with another and with God from being able to understand certain sciences, without knowing their first source, which is in God. Aristotle, although he also scarcely knew that source, nevertheless said something of the same kind which was very apposite. He acknowledged that the principles of individual forms of knowledge depend on a superior knowledge which gives the reason for them; and this superior knowledge must have being, and consequently God, the[244] source of being, for its object. Herr Dreier of Königsberg has aptly observed that the true metaphysics which Aristotle sought, and which he called [Greek: tên zêtoumenên], his _desideratum_, was theology. 185. Yet the same M. Bayle, who says so much that is admirable in order to prove that the rules of goodness and justice, and the eternal verities in general, exist by their nature, and not by an arbitrary choice of God, has spoken very hesitatingly about them in another passage (Continuation of _Divers Thoughts on the Comet_, vol. II, ch. 114, towards the end). After having given an account of the opinion of M. Descartes and a section of his followers, who maintain that God is the free cause of truths and of essences, he adds (p. 554): 'I have done all that I could to gain true understanding of this dogma and to find the solution of the difficulties surrounding it. I confess to you quite simply that I still cannot properly fathom it. That does not discourage me; I suppose, as other philosophers in other cases have supposed, that time will unfold the meaning of this noble paradox. I wish that Father Malebranche had thought fit to defend it, but he took other measures.' Is it possible that the enjoyment of doubt can have such influence upon a gifted man as to make him wish and hope for the power to believe that two contradictories never exist together for the sole reason that God forbade them to, and, moreover, that God could have issued them an order to ensure that they always walked together? There is indeed a noble paradox! Father Malebranche showed great wisdom in taking other measures. 186. I cannot even imagine that M. Descartes can have been quite seriously of this opinion, although he had adherents who found this easy to believe, and would in all simplicity follow him where he only made pretence to go. It was apparently one of his tricks, one of his philosophic feints: he prepared for himself some loophole, as when for instance he discovered a trick for denying the movement of the earth, while he was a Copernican in the strictest sense. I suspect that he had in mind here another extraordinary manner of speaking, of his own invention, which was to say that affirmations and negations, and acts of inner judgement in general, are operations of the will. Through this artifice the eternal verities, which until the time of Descartes had been named an object of the divine understanding, suddenly became an object of God's will. Now the acts of his will are free, therefore God is the free cause of the verities. That [245] is the outcome of the matter. _Spectatum admissi._ A slight change in the meaning of terms has caused all this commotion. But if the affirmations of necessary truths were actions of the will of the most perfect mind, these actions would be anything but free, for there is nothing to choose. It seems that M. Descartes did not declare himself sufficiently on the nature of freedom, and that his conception of it was somewhat unusual: for he extended it so far that he even held the affirmations of necessary truths to be free in God. That was preserving only the name of freedom. 187. M. Bayle, who with others conceives this to be a freedom of indifference, that God had had to establish (for instance) the truths of numbers, and to ordain that three times three made nine, whereas he could have commanded them to make ten, imagines in this strange opinion, supposing it were possible to defend it, some kind of advantage gained against the Stratonists. Strato was one of the leaders of the School of Aristotle, and the successor of Theophrastus; he maintained (according to Cicero's account) that this world had been formed such as it is by Nature or by a necessary cause devoid of cognition. I admit that that might be so, if God had so preformed matter as to cause such an effect by the laws of motion alone. But without God there would not even have been any reason for existence, and still less for any particular existence of things: thus Strato's system is not to be feared. 188. Nevertheless M. Bayle is in difficulties over this: he will not admit plastic natures devoid of cognition, which Mr. Cudworth and others had introduced, for fear that the modern Stratonists, that is, the Spinozists, take advantage of it. This has involved him in disputes with M. le Clerc. Under the influence of this error, that a non-intelligent cause can produce nothing where contrivance appears, he is far from conceding to me that _preformation_ which produces naturally the organs of animals, and _the system of a harmony pre-established by God_ in bodies, to make them respond in accordance with their own laws to the thoughts and the wills of souls. But it ought to have been taken into account that this non-intelligent cause, which produces such beautiful things in the grains and seeds of plants and animals, and effects the actions of bodies as the will ordains them, was formed by the hand of God: and God is infinitely more skilful than a watchmaker, who himself makes machines and automata that are [246] capable of producing as wonderful effects as if they possessed intelligence. 189. Now to come to M. Bayle's apprehensions concerning the Stratonists, in case one should admit truths that are not dependent upon the will of God: he seems to fear lest they may take advantage against us of the perfect regularity of the eternal verities. Since this regularity springs only from the nature and necessity of things, without being directed by any cognition, M. Bayle fears that one might with Strato thence infer that the world also could have become regular through a blind necessity. But it is easy to answer that. In the region of the eternal verities are found all the possibles, and consequently the regular as well as the irregular: there must be a reason accounting for the preference for order and regularity, and this reason can only be found in understanding. Moreover these very truths can have no existence without an understanding to take cognizance of them; for they would not exist if there were no divine understanding wherein they are realized, so to speak. Hence Strato does not attain his end, which is to exclude cognition from that which enters into the origin of things. 190. The difficulty that M. Bayle has imagined in connexion with Strato seems a little too subtle and far-fetched. That is termed: _timere, ubi non est timor_. He makes another difficulty, which has just as slight a foundation, namely, that God would be subjected to a kind of _fatum_. Here are his words (p. 555): 'If they are propositions of eternal truth, which are such by their nature and not by God's institution, if they are not true by a free decree of his will, but if on the contrary he has recognized them as true of necessity, because such was their nature, there is a kind of _fatum_ to which he is subjected; there is an absolutely insurmountable natural necessity. Thence comes also the result that the divine understanding in the infinity of its ideas has always and at the outset hit upon their perfect conformity with their objects, without the guidance of any cognition; for it would be a contradiction to say that any exemplary cause had served as a plan for the acts of God's understanding. One would never that way find eternal ideas or any first intelligence. One must say, then, that a nature which exists of necessity always finds its way, without any need for it to be shown. How then shall we overcome the obstinacy of a Stratonist?' 191. But again it is easy to answer. This so-called _fatum_, which [247] binds even the Divinity, is nothing but God's own nature, his own understanding, which furnishes the rules for his wisdom and his goodness; it is a happy necessity, without which he would be neither good nor wise. Is it to be desired that God should not be bound to be perfect and happy? Is our condition, which renders us liable to fail, worth envying? And should we not be well pleased to exchange it for sinlessness, if that depended upon us? One must be indeed weary of life to desire the freedom to destroy oneself and to pity the Divinity for not having that freedom. M. Bayle himself reasons thus elsewhere against those who laud to the skies an extravagant freedom which they assume in the will, when they would make the will independent of reason. 192. Moreover, M. Bayle wonders 'that the divine understanding in the infinity of its ideas always and at the outset hits upon their perfect conformity with their objects, without the guidance of any cognition'. This objection is null and void. Every distinct idea is, through its distinctness, in conformity with its object, and in God there are distinct ideas only. At first, moreover, the object exists nowhere; but when it comes into existence, it will be formed according to this idea. Besides, M. Bayle knows very well that the divine understanding has no need of time for seeing the connexion of things. All trains of reasoning are in God in a transcendent form, and they preserve an order amongst them in his understanding, as well as in ours: but with him it is only an order and a _priority of nature_, whereas with us there is a _priority of time_. It is therefore not to be wondered at that he who penetrates all things at one stroke should always strike true at the outset; and it must not be said that he succeeds without the guidance of any cognition. On the contrary, it is because his knowledge is perfect that his voluntary actions are also perfect. 193. Up to now I have shown that the Will of God is not independent of the rules of Wisdom, although indeed it is a matter for surprise that one should have been constrained to argue about it, and to do battle for a truth so great and so well established. But it is hardly less surprising that there should be people who believe that God only half observes these rules, and does not choose the best, although his wisdom causes him to recognize it; and, in a word, that there should be writers who hold that God could have done better. That is more or less the error of the famous Alfonso, King of Castile, who was elected King of the Romans by [248] certain Electors, and originated the astronomical tables that bear his name. This prince is reported to have said that if God in making the world had consulted him he would have given God good advice. Apparently the Ptolemaic system, which prevailed at that time, was displeasing to him. He believed therefore that something better planned could have been made, and he was right. But if he had known the system of Copernicus, with the discoveries of Kepler, now extended by knowledge of the gravity of the planets, he would indeed have confessed that the contrivance of the true system is marvellous. We see, therefore, that here the question concerned the more or less only; Alfonso maintained that better could have been done, and his opinion was censured by everyone. 194. Yet philosophers and theologians dare to support dogmatically such a belief; and I have many times wondered that gifted and pious persons should have been capable of setting bounds to the goodness and the perfection of God. For to assert that he knows what is best, that he can do it and that he does it not, is to avow that it rested with his will only to make the world better than it is; but that is what one calls lacking goodness. It is acting against that axiom already quoted: _Minus bonum habet rationem mali_. If some adduce experience to prove that God could have done better, they set themselves up as ridiculous critics of his works. To such will be given the answer given to all those who criticize God's course of action, and who from this same assumption, that is, the alleged defects of the world, would infer that there is an evil God, or at least a God neutral between good and evil. And if we hold the same opinion as King Alfonso, we shall, I say, receive this answer: You have known the world only since the day before yesterday, you see scarce farther than your nose, and you carp at the world. Wait until you know more of the world and consider therein especially the parts which present a complete whole (as do organic bodies); and you will find there a contrivance and a beauty transcending all imagination. Let us thence draw conclusions as to the wisdom and the goodness of the author of things, even in things that we know not. We find in the universe some things which are not pleasing to us; but let us be aware that it is not made for us alone. It is nevertheless made for us if we are wise: it will serve us if we use it for our service; we shall be happy in it if we wish to be. [249] 195. Someone will say that it is impossible to produce the best, because there is no perfect creature, and that it is always possible to produce one which would be more perfect. I answer that what can be said of a creature or of a particular substance, which can always be surpassed by another, is not to be applied to the universe, which, since it must extend through all future eternity, is an infinity. Moreover, there is an infinite number of creatures in the smallest particle of matter, because of the actual division of the _continuum_ to infinity. And infinity, that is to say, the accumulation of an infinite number of substances, is, properly speaking, not a whole any more than the infinite number itself, whereof one cannot say whether it is even or uneven. That is just what serves to confute those who make of the world a God, or who think of God as the Soul of the world; for the world or the universe cannot be regarded as an animal or as a substance. 196. It is therefore not a question of a creature, but of the universe; and the adversary will be obliged to maintain that one possible universe may be better than the other, to infinity; but there he would be mistaken, and it is that which he cannot prove. If this opinion were true, it would follow that God had not produced any universe at all: for he is incapable of acting without reason, and that would be even acting against reason. It is as if one were to suppose that God had decreed to make a material sphere, with no reason for making it of any particular size. This decree would be useless, it would carry with it that which would prevent its effect. It would be quite another matter if God decreed to draw from a given point one straight line to another given straight line, without any determination of the angle, either in the decree or in its circumstances. For in this case the determination would spring from the nature of the thing, the line would be perpendicular, and the angle would be right, since that is all that is determined and distinguishable. It is thus one must think of the creation of the best of all possible universes, all the more since God not only decrees to create a universe, but decrees also to create the best of all. For God decrees nothing without knowledge, and he makes no separate decrees, which would be nothing but antecedent acts of will: and these we have sufficiently explained, distinguishing them from genuine decrees. 197. M. Diroys, whom I knew in Rome, theologian to Cardinal d'Estrées, wrote a book entitled _Proofs and Assumptions in Favour of_ _the [250] Christian Religion_, published in Paris in the year 1683. M. Bayle (_Reply to the Questions of a Provincial_, vol. III, ch. 165, p. 1058) recounts this objection brought up by M. Diroys: 'There is one more difficulty', he says, 'which it is no less important to meet than those given earlier, since it causes more trouble to those who judge goods and evils by considerations founded on the purest and most lofty maxims. This is that God being the supreme wisdom and goodness, it seems to them that he ought to do all things as wise and virtuous persons would wish them to be done, following the rules of wisdom and of goodness which God has imprinted in them, and as they would be obliged themselves to do these things if they depended upon them. Thus, seeing that the affairs of the world do not go so well as, in their opinion, they might go, and as they would go if they interfered themselves, they conclude that God, who is infinitely better and wiser than they, or rather wisdom and goodness itself, does not concern himself with these affairs.' 198. M. Diroys makes some apt remarks concerning this, which I will not repeat, since I have sufficiently answered the objection in more than one passage, and that has been the chief end of all my discourse. But he makes one assertion with which I cannot agree. He claims that the objection proves too much. One must again quote his own words with M. Bayle, p. 1059: 'If it does not behove the supreme Wisdom and Goodness to fail to do what is best and most perfect, it follows that all Beings are eternally, immutably and essentially as perfect and as good as they can be, since nothing can change except by passing either from a state less good to a better, or from a better to a less good. Now that cannot happen if it does not behove God to fail to do that which is best and most perfect, when he can do it. It will therefore be necessary that all beings be eternally and essentially filled with a knowledge and a virtue as perfect as God can give them. Now all that which is eternally and essentially as perfect as God can make it proceeds essentially from him; in a word, is eternally and essentially good as he is, and consequently it is God, as he is. That is the bearing of this maxim, that it is repugnant to supreme justice and goodness not to make things as good and perfect as they can be. For it is essential to essential wisdom and goodness to banish all that is repugnant to it altogether. One must therefore assert as a primary truth concerning the conduct of God in relation to creatures that there is nothing repugnant to this goodness and this wisdom in making things less perfect than [251] they could be, or in permitting the goods that it has produced either completely to cease to be or to change and deteriorate. For it causes no offence to God that there should be other Beings than he, that is beings who can be not what they are, and do not what they do or do what they do not.' 199. M. Bayle calls this answer paltry, but I find his counter-objection involved. M. Bayle will have those who are for the two principles to take their stand chiefly on the assumption of the supreme freedom of God: for if he were compelled to produce all that which he can, he would produce also sins and sorrows. Thus the Dualists could from the existence of evil conclude nothing contrary to the oneness of the principle, if this principle were as much inclined to evil as to good. There M. Bayle carries the notion of freedom too far: for even though God be supremely free, it does not follow that he maintains an indifference of equipoise: and even though he be inclined to act, it does not follow that he is compelled by this inclination to produce all that which he can. He will produce only that which he wills, for his inclination prompts him to good. I admit the supreme freedom of God, but I do not confuse it with indifference of equipoise, as if he could act without reason. M. Diroys therefore imagines that the Dualists, in their insistence that the single good principle produce no evil, ask too much; for by the same reason, according to M. Diroys, they ought also to ask that he should produce the greatest good, the less good being a kind of evil. I hold that the Dualists are wrong in respect of the first point, and that they would be right in respect of the second, where M. Diroys blames them without cause; or rather that one can reconcile the evil, or the less good, in some parts with the best in the whole. If the Dualists demanded that God should do the best, they would not be demanding too much. They are mistaken rather in claiming that the best in the whole should be free from evil in the parts, and that therefore what God has made is not the best. 200. But M. Diroys maintains that if God always produces the best he will produce other Gods; otherwise each substance that he produced would not be the best nor the most perfect. But he is mistaken, through not taking into account the order and connexion of things. If each substance taken separately were perfect, all would be alike; which is neither fitting nor possible. If they were Gods, it would not have been possible to [252] produce them. The best system of things will therefore not contain Gods; it will always be a system of bodies (that is, things arranged according to time and place) and of souls which represent and are aware of bodies, and in accordance with which bodies are in great measure directed. So, as the design of a building may be the best of all in respect of its purpose, of expense and of circumstances; and as an arrangement of some figured representations of bodies which is given to you may be the best that one can find, it is easy to imagine likewise that a structure of the universe may be the best of all, without becoming a god. The connexion and order of things brings it about that the body of every animal and of every plant is composed of other animals and of other plants, or of other living and organic beings; consequently there is subordination, and one body, one substance serves the other: thus their perfection cannot be equal. 201. M. Bayle thinks (p. 1063) that M. Diroys has confused two different propositions. According to the one, God must do all things as wise and virtuous persons would wish that they should be done, by the rules of wisdom and of goodness that God has imprinted in them, and as they would be obliged themselves to do them if those things depended upon them. The other is that it is not consistent with supreme wisdom and goodness to fail to do what is best and most perfect. M. Diroys (in M. Bayle's opinion) sets up the first proposition as an objection for himself, and replies to the second. But therein he is justified, as it seems to me. For these two propositions are connected, the second is a result of the first: to do less good than one could is to be lacking in wisdom or in goodness. To be the best, and to be desired by those who are most virtuous and wise, comes to the same thing. And it may be said that, if we could understand the structure and the economy of the universe, we should find that it is made and directed as the wisest and most virtuous could wish it, since God cannot fail to do thus. This necessity nevertheless is only of a moral nature: and I admit that if God were forced by a metaphysical necessity to produce that which he makes, he would produce all the possibles, or nothing; and in this sense M. Bayle's conclusion would be fully correct. But as all the possibles are not compatible together in one and the same world-sequence, for that very reason all the possibles cannot be produced, and it must be said that God is not forced, metaphysically speaking, [253] into the creation of this world. One may say that as soon as God has decreed to create something there is a struggle between all the possibles, all of them laying claim to existence, and that those which, being united, produce most reality, most perfection, most significance carry the day. It is true that all this struggle can only be ideal, that is to say, it can only be a conflict of reasons in the most perfect understanding, which cannot fail to act in the most perfect way, and consequently to choose the best. Yet God is bound by a moral necessity, to make things in such a manner that there can be nothing better: otherwise not only would others have cause to criticize what he makes, but, more than that, he would not himself be satisfied with his work, he would blame himself for its imperfection; and that conflicts with the supreme felicity of the divine nature. This perpetual sense of his own fault or imperfection would be to him an inevitable source of grief, as M. Bayle says on another occasion (p.953). 202. M. Diroys' argument contains a false assumption, in his statement that nothing can change except by passing from a state less good to a better or from a better to a less good; and that thus, if God makes the best, what he has produced cannot be changed: it would be an eternal substance, a god. But I do not see why a thing cannot change its kind in relation to good or evil, without changing its degree. In the transition from enjoyment of music to enjoyment of painting, or _vice versa_ from the pleasure of the eyes to that of the ears, the degree of enjoyment may remain the same, the latter gaining no advantage over the former save that of novelty. If the quadrature of the circle should come to pass or (what is the same thing) the circulature of the square, that is, if the circle were changed into a square of the same size, or the square into a circle, it would be difficult to say, on the whole, without having regard to some special use, whether one would have gained or lost. Thus the best may be changed into another which neither yields to it nor surpasses it: but there will always be an order among them, and that the best order possible. Taking the whole sequence of things, the best has no equal; but one part of the sequence may be equalled by another part of the same sequence. Besides it might be said that the whole sequence of things to infinity may be the best possible, although what exists all through the universe in each portion of time be not the best. It might be therefore that the universe became even [254] better and better, if the nature of things were such that it was not permitted to attain to the best all at once. But these are problems of which it is hard for us to judge. 203. M. Bayle says (p. 1064) that the question whether God could have made things more perfect than he made them is also very difficult, and that the reasons for and against are very strong. But it is, so it seems to me, as if one were to question whether God's actions are consistent with the most perfect wisdom and the greatest goodness. It is a very strange thing, that by changing the terms a little one throws doubt upon what is, if properly understood, as clear as anything can be. The reasons to the contrary have no force, being founded only on the semblance of defects; and M. Bayle's objection, which tends to prove that the law of the best would impose upon God a true metaphysical necessity, is only an illusion that springs from the misuse of terms. M. Bayle formerly held a different opinion, when he commended that of Father Malebranche, which was akin to mine on this subject. But M. Arnauld having written in opposition to Father Malebranche, M. Bayle altered his opinion; and I suppose that his tendency towards doubt, which increased in him with the years, was conducive to that result. M. Arnauld was doubtless a great man, and his authority has great weight: he made sundry good observations in his writings against Father Malebranche, but he was not justified in contesting those of his statements that were akin to mine on the rule of the best. 204. The excellent author of _The Search for Truth_, having passed from philosophy to theology, published finally an admirable treatise on Nature and Grace. Here he showed in his way (as M. Bayle explained in his _Divers Thoughts on the Comet_, ch. 234) that the events which spring from the enforcement of general laws are not the object of a particular will of God. It is true that when one wills a thing one wills also in a sense everything that is necessarily attached to it, and in consequence God cannot will general laws without also willing in a sense all the particular effects that must of necessity be derived from them. But it is always true that these particular events are not willed for their own sake, and that is what is meant by the expression that they are not willed by a _particular_ and direct _will_. There is no doubt that when God resolved to act outside himself, he made choice of a manner of action which should be worthy [255] of the supremely perfect Being, that is, which should be infinitely simple and uniform, but yet of an infinite productivity. One may even suppose that this manner of action by _general acts of will_ appeared to him preferable--although there must thence result some superfluous events (and even bad if they are taken separately, that is my own addition)--to another manner more composed and more regular; such is Father Malebranche's opinion. Nothing is more appropriate than this assumption (according to the opinion of M. Bayle, when he wrote his _Divers Thoughts on the Comet_) to solve a thousand difficulties which are brought up against divine providence: 'To ask God', he says, 'why he has made things which serve to render men more wicked, that would be to ask why God has carried out his plan (which can only be of infinite beauty) by the simplest and most uniform methods, and why, by a complexity of decrees that would unceasingly cut across one another, he has not prevented the wrong use of man's free will.' He adds 'that miracles being particular acts of will must have an end worthy of God'. 205. On these foundations he makes some good reflexions (ch. 231) concerning the injustice of those who complain of the prosperity of the wicked. 'I shall have no scruples', he says, 'about saying that all those who are surprised at the prosperity of the wicked have pondered very little upon the nature of God, and that they have reduced the obligations of a cause which directs all things, to the scope of a providence altogether subordinate; and that is small-minded. What then! Should God, after having made free causes and necessary causes, in a mixture infinitely well fitted to show forth the wonders of his infinite wisdom, have established laws consistent with the nature of free causes, but so lacking in firmness that the slightest trouble that came upon a man would overthrow them entirely, to the ruin of human freedom? A mere city governor will become an object of ridicule if he changes his regulations and orders as often as someone is pleased to murmur against him. And shall God, whose laws concern a good so universal that all of the world that is visible to us perchance enters into it as no more than a trifling accessary, be bound to depart from his laws, because they to-day displease the one and to-morrow the other? Or again because a superstitious person, deeming wrongly that a monstrosity presages something deadly, proceeds from his error to a criminal sacrifice? Or because a good soul, who yet does not value virtue highly enough to [256] believe that to have none is punishment enough in itself, is shocked that a wicked man should become rich and enjoy vigorous health? Can one form any falser notions of a universal providence? Everyone agrees that this law of nature, the strong prevails over the weak, has been very wisely laid down, and that it would be absurd to maintain that when a stone falls on a fragile vase which is the delight of its owner, God should depart from this law in order to spare that owner vexation. Should one then not confess that it is just as absurd to maintain that God must depart from the same law to prevent a wicked man from growing rich at the expense of a good man? The more the wicked man sets himself above the promptings of conscience and of honour, the more does he exceed the good man in strength, so that if he comes to grips with the good man he must, according to the course of nature, ruin him. If, moreover, they are both engaged in the business of finance, the wicked man must, according to the same course of nature, grow richer than the good man, just as a fierce fire consumes more wood than a fire of straw. Those who would wish sickness for a wicked man are sometimes as unfair as those who would wish that a stone falling on a glass should not break it: for his organs being arranged as they are, neither the food that he takes nor the air that he breathes can, according to natural laws, be detrimental to his health. Therefore those who complain about his health complain of God's failure to violate the laws which he has established. And in this they are all the more unfair because, through combinations and concatenations which were in the power of God alone, it happens often enough that the course of nature brings about the punishment of sin.' 206. It is a thousand pities that M. Bayle so soon quitted the way he had so auspiciously begun, of reasoning on behalf of providence: for his work would have been fruitful, and in saying fine things he would have said good things as well. I agree with Father Malebranche that God does things in the way most worthy of him. But I go a little further than he, with regard to 'general and particular acts of will'. As God can do nothing without reasons, even when he acts miraculously, it follows that he has no will about individual events but what results from some general truth or will. Thus I would say that God never has a _particular will_ such as this Father implies, that is to say, _a particular primitive will_. [257] 207. I think even that miracles have nothing to distinguish them from other events in this regard: for reasons of an order superior to that of Nature prompt God to perform them. Thus I would not say, with this Father, that God departs from general laws whenever order requires it: he departs from one law only for another law more applicable, and what order requires cannot fail to be in conformity with the rule of order, which is one of the general laws. The distinguishing mark of miracles (taken in the strictest sense) is that they cannot be accounted for by the natures of created things. That is why, should God make a general law causing bodies to be attracted the one to the other, he could only achieve its operation by perpetual miracles. And likewise, if God willed that the organs of human bodies should conform to the will of the soul, according to the _system of occasional causes_, this law also would come into operation only through perpetual miracles. 208. Thus one must suppose that, among the general rules which are not absolutely necessary, God chooses those which are the most natural, which it is easiest to explain, and which also are of greatest service for the explanation of other things. That is doubtless the conclusion most excellent and most pleasing; and even though the System of Pre-established Harmony were not necessary otherwise, because it banishes superfluous miracles, God would have chosen it as being the most harmonious. The ways of God are those most simple and uniform: for he chooses rules that least restrict one another. They are also the most _productive_ in proportion to the _simplicity of ways and means_. It is as if one said that a certain house was the best that could have been constructed at a certain cost. One may, indeed, reduce these two conditions, simplicity and productivity, to a single advantage, which is to produce as much perfection as is possible: thus Father Malebranche's system in this point amounts to the same as mine. Even if the effect were assumed to be greater, but the process less simple, I think one might say that, when all is said and done, the effect itself would be less great, taking into account not only the final effect but also the mediate effect. For the wisest mind so acts, as far as it is possible, that the _means_ are also in a sense _ends_, that is, they are desirable not only on account of what they do, but on account of what they are. The more intricate processes take up too much ground, too much space, too much place, too much time that might have been better employed. [258] 209. Now since everything resolves itself into this greatest perfection, we return to my law of the best. For perfection includes not only the _moral good_ and the _physical good_ of intelligent creatures, but also the good which is purely _metaphysical_, and concerns also creatures devoid of reason. It follows that the evil that is in rational creatures happens only by concomitance, not by antecedent will but by a consequent will, as being involved in the best possible plan; and the metaphysical good which includes everything makes it necessary sometimes to admit physical evil and moral evil, as I have already explained more than once. It so happens that the ancient Stoics were not far removed from this system. M. Bayle remarked upon this himself in his _Dictionary_ in the article on 'Chrysippus', rem. T. It is of importance to give his own words, in order sometimes to face him with his own objections and to bring him back to the fine sentiments that he had formerly pronounced: 'Chrysippus', he says (p. 930), 'in his work on Providence examined amongst other questions this one: Did the nature of things, or the providence that made the world and the human kind, make also the diseases to which men are subject? He answers that the chief design of Nature was not to make them sickly, that would not be in keeping with the cause of all good; but Nature, in preparing and producing many great things excellently ordered and of great usefulness, found that some drawbacks came as a result, and thus these were not in conformity with the original design and purpose; they came about as a sequel to the work, they existed only as consequences. For the formation of the human body, Chrysippus said, the finest idea as well as the very utility of the work demanded that the head should be composed of a tissue of thin, fine bones; but because of that it was bound to have the disadvantage of not being able to resist blows. Nature made health, and at the same time it was necessary by a kind of concomitance that the source of diseases should be opened up. The same thing applies with regard to virtue; the direct action of Nature, which brought it forth, produced by a counter stroke the brood of vices. I have not translated literally, for which reason I give here the actual Latin of Aulus Gellius, for the benefit of those who understand that language (Aul. Gellius, lib. 6, cap. 1): "Idem Chrysippus in eod. lib. (quarto, [Greek: peri pronoias]) tractat consideratque, dignumque esse id quaeri putat, [Greek: ei hai tôn anthrôpôn nosoi kata physin gignontai]. Id est, naturane ipsa rerum, vel providentia quae compagem hanc mundi et [259] genus hominum fecit, morbos quoque et debilitates et aegritudines corporum, quas patiuntur homines, fecerit. Existimat autem non fuisse hoc principale naturae consilium, ut faceret homines morbis obnoxios. Nunquam enim hoc convenisse naturae auctori parentique rerum omnium bonarum. Sed quum multa, inquit, atque magna gigneret, pareretque aptissima et utilissima, alia quoque simul agnata sunt incommoda iis ipsis, quae faciebat, cohaerentia: eaque non per naturam, sed per sequelas quasdam necessarias facta dicit, quod ipse appellat [Greek: kata parakolouthêsin]. Sicut, inquit, quum corpora hominum natura fingeret, ratio subtilior et utilitas ipsa operis postulavit ut tenuissimis minutisque ossiculis caput compingeret. Sed hanc utilitatem rei majoris alia quaedam incommoditas extrinsecus consecuta est, ut fieret caput tenuiter munitum et ictibus offensionibusque parvis fragile. Proinde morbi quoque et aegritudines partae sunt, dum salus paritur. Sic Hercle, inquit, dum virtus hominibus per consilium naturae gignitur, vitia ibidem per affinitatem contrariam nata sunt." I do not think that a pagan could have said anything more reasonable, considering his ignorance of the first man's fall, the knowledge of which has only reached us through revelation, and which indeed is the true cause of our miseries. If we had sundry like extracts from the works of Chrysippus, or rather if we had his works, we should have a more favourable idea than we have of the beauty of his genius.' 210. Let us now see the reverse of the medal in the altered M. Bayle. After having quoted in his _Reply to the Questions of a Provincial_ (vol. III, ch. 155, p. 962) these words of M. Jacquelot, which are much to my liking: 'To change the order of the universe is something of infinitely greater consequence than the prosperity of a good man,' he adds: 'This thought has something dazzling about it: Father Malebranche has placed it in the best possible light; and he has persuaded some of his readers that a system which is simple and very productive is more consistent with God's wisdom than a system more composite and less productive in proportion, but more capable of averting irregularities. M. Bayle was one of those who believed that Father Malebranche in that way gave a wonderful solution.' (It is M. Bayle himself speaking.) 'But it is almost impossible to be satisfied with it after having read M. Arnauld's books against this system, and after having contemplated the vast and boundless idea of the supremely [260] perfect Being. This idea shows us that nothing is easier for God than to follow a plan which is simple, productive, regular and opportune for all creatures simultaneously.' 211. While I was in France I showed to M. Arnauld a dialogue I had composed in Latin on the cause of evil and the justice of God; it was not only before his disputes with Father Malebranche, but even before the book on _The Search for Truth_ appeared. That principle which I uphold here, namely that sin had been permitted because it had been involved in the best plan for the universe, was already applied there; and M. Arnauld did not seem to be startled by it. But the slight contentions which he has since had with Father Malebranche have given him cause to examine this subject with closer attention, and to be more severe in his judgement thereof. Yet I am not altogether pleased with M. Bayle's manner of expression here on this subject, and I am not of the opinion 'that a more composite and less productive plan might be more capable of averting irregularities'. Rules are the expression of general will: the more one observes rules, the more regularity there is; simplicity and productivity are the aim of rules. I shall be met with the objection that a uniform system will be free from irregularities. I answer that it would be an irregularity to be too uniform, that would offend against the rules of harmony. _Et citharoedus Ridetur chorda qui semper oberrat eadem_. I believe therefore that God can follow a simple, productive, regular plan; but I do not believe that the best and the most regular is always opportune for all creatures simultaneously; and I judge _a posteriori_, for the plan chosen by God is not so. I have, however, also shown this _a priori_ in examples taken from mathematics, and I will presently give another here. An Origenist who maintains that all rational creatures become happy in the end will be still easier to satisfy. He will say, in imitation of St. Paul's saying about the sufferings of this life, that those which are finite are not worthy to be compared with eternal bliss. 212. What is deceptive in this subject, as I have already observed, is that one feels an inclination to believe that what is the best in the whole is also the best possible in each part. One reasons thus in geometry, when it is a question _de maximis et minimis_. If the road from A to B that one proposes to take is the shortest possible, and if this road passes by C, then the road from A to C, part of the first, must also be the shortest possible. But the inference from _quantity_ to _quality_ is not always[261] right, any more than that which is drawn from equals to similars. For _equals_ are those whose quantity is the same, and _similars_ are those not differing according to qualities. The late Herr Sturm, a famous mathematician in Altorf, while in Holland in his youth published there a small book under the title of _Euclides Catholicus_. Here he endeavoured to give exact and general rules in subjects not mathematical, being encouraged in the task by the late Herr Erhard Weigel, who had been his tutor. In this book he transfers to similars what Euclid had said of equals, and he formulates this axiom: _Si similibus addas similia, tota sunt similia_. But so many limitations were necessary to justify this new rule, that it would have been better, in my opinion, to enounce it at the outset with a reservation, by saying, _Si similibus similia addas similiter, tota sunt similia_. Moreover, geometricians often require _non tantum similia, sed et similiter posita_. 213. This difference between quantity and quality appears also in our case. The part of the shortest way between two extreme points is also the shortest way between the extreme points of this part; but the part of the best Whole is not of necessity the best that one could have made of this part. For the part of a beautiful thing is not always beautiful, since it can be extracted from the whole, or marked out within the whole, in an irregular manner. If goodness and beauty always lay in something absolute and uniform, such as extension, matter, gold, water, and other bodies assumed to be homogeneous or similar, one must say that the part of the good and the beautiful would be beautiful and good like the whole, since it would always have resemblance to the whole: but this is not the case in things that have mutual relations. An example taken from geometry will be appropriate to explain my idea. 214. There is a kind of geometry which Herr Jung of Hamburg, one of the most admirable men of his time, called 'empiric'. It makes use of conclusive experiments and proves various propositions of Euclid, but especially those which concern the equality of two figures, by cutting the one in pieces, and putting the pieces together again to make the other. In this manner, by cutting carefully in parts the squares on the two sides of the right-angled triangle, and arranging these parts carefully, one makes from them the square on the hypotenuse; that is demonstrating empirically the 47th proposition of the first book of Euclid. Now supposing that some of these pieces taken from the two smaller squares are lost, something[262] will be lacking in the large square that is to be formed from them; and this defective combination, far from pleasing, will be disagreeably ugly. If then the pieces that remained, composing the faulty combination, were taken separately without any regard to the large square to whose formation they ought to contribute, one would group them together quite differently to make a tolerably good combination. But as soon as the lost pieces are retrieved and the gap in the faulty combination is filled, there will ensue a beautiful and regular thing, the complete large square: this perfect combination will be far more beautiful than the tolerably good combination which had been made from the pieces one had not mislaid alone. The perfect combination corresponds to the universe in its entirety, and the faulty combination that is a part of the perfect one corresponds to some part of the universe, where we find defects which the Author of things has allowed, because otherwise, if he had wished to re-shape this faulty part and make thereof a tolerably good combination, the whole would not then have been so beautiful. For the parts of the faulty combination, grouped better to make a tolerably good combination, could not have been used properly to form the whole and perfect combination. Thomas Aquinas had an inkling of these things when he said: _ad prudentem gubernatorem pertinet, negligere aliquem defectum bonitatis in parte, ut faciat augmentum bonitatis in toto_ (Thom., _Contra Gentiles_, lib. 2, c. 71). Thomas Gatacre, in his Notes on the book of Marcus Aurelius (lib. 5, cap. 8, with M. Bayle), cites also passages from authors who say that the evil of the parts is often the good of the whole. 215. Let us return to M. Bayle's illustrations. He imagines a prince (p. 963) who is having a city built, and who, in bad taste, aims rather at airs of magnificence therein, and a bold and unusual style of architecture, than at the provision of conveniences of all kinds for the inhabitants. But if this prince has true magnanimity he will prefer the convenient to the magnificent architecture. That is M. Bayle's judgement. I consider, however, that there are cases where one will justifiably prefer beauty of construction in a palace to the convenience of a few domestics. But I admit that the construction would be bad, however beautiful it might be, if it were a cause of diseases to the inhabitants; provided it was possible to make one that would be better, taking into account beauty, convenience and health all together. It may be, indeed, that one cannot have all these[263] advantages at once. Thus, supposing one wished to build on the northern and more bracing side of the mountain, if the castle were then bound to be of an unendurable construction, one would prefer to make it face southward. 216. M. Bayle raises the further objection, that it is true that our legislators can never invent regulations such as are convenient for all individuals, 'Nulla lex satis commoda omnibus est; id modo quaeritur, si majori parti et in summam prodest. (Cato apud Livium, L. 34, circa init.)' But the reason is that the limited condition of their knowledge compels them to cling to laws which, when all is taken into account, are more advantageous than harmful. Nothing of all that can apply to God, who is as infinite in power and understanding as in goodness and true greatness. I answer that since God chooses the best possible, one cannot tax him with any limitation of his perfections; and in the universe not only does the good exceed the evil, but also the evil serves to augment the good. 217. He observes also that the Stoics derived a blasphemy from this principle, saying that evils must be endured with patience, or that they were necessary, not only to the well-being and completeness of the universe, but also to the felicity, perfection and conservation of God, who directs it. The Emperor Marcus Aurelius gave expression to that in the eighth chapter of the fifth book of his _Meditations_. 'Duplici ratione', he says, 'diligas oportet, quidquid evenerit tibi; altera quod tibi natum et tibi coordinatum et ad te quodammodo affectum est; altera quod universi gubernatori prosperitatis et consummationis atque adeo permansionis ipsius procurandae ([Greek: tês euodias kai tês synteleias kai tês symmonês autês]) ex parte causa est.' This precept is not the most reasonable of those stated by that great emperor. A _diligas oportet_ ([Greek: stergein chrê]) is of no avail; a thing does not become pleasing just because it is necessary, and because it is destined for or attached to someone: and what for me would be an evil would not cease to be such because it would be my master's good, unless this good reflected back on me. One good thing among others in the universe is that the general good becomes in reality the individual good of those who love the Author of all good. But the principal error of this emperor and of the Stoics was their assumption that the good of the universe must please God himself, because they imagined God as the soul of the world. This error has nothing in common with my dogma, [264] according to which God is _Intelligentia extramundana_, as Martianus Capella calls him, or rather _supramundana_. Further, he acts to do good, and not to receive it. _Melius est dare quam accipere_; his bliss is ever perfect and can receive no increase, either from within or from without. 218. I come now to the principal objection M. Bayle, after M. Arnauld, brings up against me. It is complicated: they maintain that God would be under compulsion, that he would act of necessity, if he were bound to create the best; or at least that he would have been lacking in power if he could not have found a better expedient for excluding sins and other evils. That is in effect denying that this universe is the best, and that God is bound to insist upon the best. I have met this objection adequately in more than one passage: I have proved that God cannot fail to produce the best; and from that assumption it follows that the evils we experience could not have been reasonably excluded from the universe, since they are there. Let us see, however, what these two excellent men bring up, or rather let us see what M. Bayle's objection is, for he professes to have profited by the arguments of M. Arnauld. 219. 'Would it be possible', he says, _Reply to the Questions of a Provincial_, vol. III, ch. 158, p. 890, 'that a nature whose goodness, holiness, wisdom, knowledge and power are infinite, who loves virtue supremely, and hates vice supremely, as our clear and distinct idea of him shows us, and as well-nigh every page of Scripture assures us, could have found in virtue no means fitting and suited for his ends? Would it be possible that vice alone had offered him this means? One would have thought on the contrary that nothing beseemed this nature more than to establish virtue in his work to the exclusion of all vice.' M. Bayle here exaggerates things. I agree that some vice was connected with the best plan of the universe, but I do not agree with him that God could not find in virtue any means suited for his ends. This objection would have been valid if there were no virtue, if vice took its place everywhere. He will say it suffices that vice prevails and that virtue is trifling in comparison. But I am far from agreeing with him there, and I think that in reality, properly speaking, there is incomparably more moral good than moral evil in rational creatures; and of these we have knowledge of but few. 220. This evil is not even so great in men as it is declared to be. It[265] is only people of a malicious disposition or those who have become somewhat misanthropic through misfortunes, like Lucian's Timon, who find wickedness everywhere, and who poison the best actions by the interpretations they give to them. I speak of those who do it in all seriousness, to draw thence evil conclusions, by which their conduct is tainted; for there are some who only do it to show off their own acumen. People have found that fault in Tacitus, and that again is the criticism M. Descartes (in one of his letters) makes of Mr. Hobbes's book _De Cive_, of which only a few copies had at that time been printed for distribution among friends, but to which some notes by the author were added in the second edition which we have. For although M. Descartes acknowledges that this book is by a man of talent, he observes therein some very dangerous principles and maxims, in the assumption there made that all men are wicked, or the provision of them with motives for being so. The late Herr Jacob Thomasius said in his admirable _Tables of Practical Philosophy_ that the [Greek: prôton pseudos], the primary cause of errors in this book by Mr. Hobbes, was that he took _statum legalem pro naturali_, that is to say that the corrupt state served him as a gauge and rule, whereas it is the state most befitting human nature which Aristotle had had in view. For according to Aristotle, that is termed _natural_ which conforms most closely to the perfection of the nature of the thing; but Mr. Hobbes applies the term _natural state_ to that which has least art, perhaps not taking into account that human nature in its perfection carries art with it. But the question of name, that is to say, of what may be called natural, would not be of great importance were it not that Aristotle and Hobbes fastened upon it the notion of natural right, each one following his own signification. I have said here already that I found in the book on the Falsity of human Virtues the same defect as M. Descartes found in Mr. Hobbes's _De Cive_. 221. But even if we assume that vice exceeds virtue in the human kind, as it is assumed the number of the damned exceeds that of the elect, it by no means follows that vice and misery exceed virtue and happiness in the universe: one should rather believe the opposite, because the City of God must be the most perfect of all possible states, since it was formed and is perpetually governed by the greatest and best of all Monarchs. This answer confirms the observation I made earlier, when speaking of the conformity of faith with reason, namely, that one of the greatest sources of fallacy[266] in the objections is the confusion of the apparent with the real. And here by the apparent I mean not simply such as would result from an exact discussion of facts, but that which has been derived from the small extent of our experiences. It would be senseless to try to bring up appearances so imperfect, and having such slight foundation, in opposition to the proofs of reason and the revelations of faith. 222. Finally, I have already observed that love of virtue and hatred of vice, which tend in an undefined way to bring virtue into existence and to prevent the existence of vice, are only antecedent acts of will, such as is the will to bring about the happiness of all men and to save them from misery. These acts of antecedent will make up only a portion of all the antecedent will of God taken together, whose result forms the consequent will, or the decree to create the best. Through this decree it is that love for virtue and for the happiness of rational creatures, which is undefined in itself and goes as far as is possible, receives some slight limitations, on account of the heed that must be paid to good in general. Thus one must understand that God loves virtue supremely and hates vice supremely, and that nevertheless some vice is to be permitted. 223. M. Arnauld and M. Bayle appear to maintain that this method of explaining things and of establishing a best among all the plans for the universe, one such as may not be surpassed by any other, sets a limit to God's power. 'Have you considered', says M. Arnauld to Father Malebranche (in his _Reflexions on the New System of Nature and Grace_, vol. II, p. 385), 'that in making such assumptions you take it upon yourself to subvert the first article of the creed, whereby we make profession of believing in God the Father Almighty?' He had said already (p. 362): 'Can one maintain, without trying to blind oneself, that a course of action which could not fail to have this grievous result, namely, that the majority of men perish, bears the stamp of God's goodness more than a different course of action, which would have caused, if God had followed it, the salvation of all men?' And, as M. Jacquelot does not differ from the principles I have just laid down, M. Bayle raises like objections in his case (_Reply to the Questions of a Provincial_, vol. III, ch. 151, p. 900): 'If one adopts such explanations', he says, 'one sees oneself constrained to renounce the most obvious notions on the nature of the supremely perfect Being. These teach us that all things not implying contradiction are possible for him, [267] that consequently it is possible for him to save people whom he does not save: for what contradiction would result supposing the number of the elect were greater than it is? They teach us besides that, since he is supremely happy, he has no will which he cannot carry out. How, then, shall we understand that he wills to save all men and that he cannot do so? We sought some light to help us out of the perplexities we feel in comparing the idea of God with the state of the human kind, and lo! we are given elucidations that cast us into darkness more dense.' 224. All these obstacles vanish before the exposition I have just given. I agree with M. Bayle's principle, and it is also mine, that everything implying no contradiction is possible. But as for me, holding as I do that God did the best that was possible, or that he could not have done better than he has done, deeming also that to pass any other judgement upon his work in its entirety would be to wrong his goodness or his wisdom, I must say that to make something which surpasses in goodness the best itself, that indeed would imply contradiction. That would be as if someone maintained that God could draw from one point to another a line shorter than the straight line, and accused those who deny this of subverting the article of faith whereby we believe in God the Father Almighty. 225. The infinity of possibles, however great it may be, is no greater than that of the wisdom of God, who knows all possibles. One may even say that if this wisdom does not exceed the possibles extensively, since the objects of the understanding cannot go beyond the possible, which in a sense is alone intelligible, it exceeds them intensively, by reason of the infinitely infinite combinations it makes thereof, and its many deliberations concerning them. The wisdom of God, not content with embracing all the possibles, penetrates them, compares them, weighs them one against the other, to estimate their degrees of perfection or imperfection, the strong and the weak, the good and the evil. It goes even beyond the finite combinations, it makes of them an infinity of infinites, that is to say, an infinity of possible sequences of the universe, each of which contains an infinity of creatures. By this means the divine Wisdom distributes all the possibles it had already contemplated separately, into so many universal systems which it further compares the one with the other. The result of all these comparisons and deliberations is the choice of the best from among all these possible systems, which wisdom makes in [268] order to satisfy goodness completely; and such is precisely the plan of the universe as it is. Moreover, all these operations of the divine understanding, although they have among them an order and a priority of nature, always take place together, no priority of time existing among them. 226. The careful consideration of these things will, I hope, induce a different idea of the greatness of the divine perfections, and especially of the wisdom and goodness of God, from any that can exist in the minds of those who make God act at random, without cause or reason. And I do not see how they could avoid falling into an opinion so strange, unless they acknowledged that there are reasons for God's choice, and that these reasons are derived from his goodness: whence it follows of necessity that what was chosen had the advantage of goodness over what was not chosen, and consequently that it is the best of all the possibles. The best cannot be surpassed in goodness, and it is no restriction of the power of God to say that he cannot do the impossible. Is it possible, said M. Bayle, that there is no better plan than that one which God carried out? One answers that it is very possible and indeed necessary, namely that there is none: otherwise God would have preferred it. 227. It seems to me that I have proved sufficiently that among all the possible plans of the universe there is one better than all the rest, and that God has not failed to choose it. But M. Bayle claims to infer thence that God is therefore not free. This is how he speaks on that question (_ubi supra_, ch. 151, p. 899): 'I thought to argue with a man who assumed as I do that the goodness and the power of God are infinite, as well as his wisdom; and now I see that in reality this man assumes that God's goodness and power are enclosed within rather narrow bounds.' As to that, the objection has already been met: I set no bounds to God's power, since I recognize that it extends _ad maximum, ad omnia_, to all that implies no contradiction; and I set none to his goodness, since it attains to the best, _ad optimum_. But M. Bayle goes on: 'There is therefore no freedom in God; he is compelled by his wisdom to create, and then to create precisely such a work, and finally to create it precisely in such ways. These are three servitudes which form a more than Stoic _fatum_, and which render impossible all that is not within their sphere. It seems that, according to this system, God could have said, even before shaping his decrees: I [269] cannot save such and such a man, nor condemn such and such another, _quippe vetor fatis_, my wisdom permits it not.' 228. I answer that it is goodness which prompts God to create with the purpose of communicating himself; and this same goodness combined with wisdom prompts him to create the best: a best that includes the whole sequence, the effect and the process. It prompts him thereto without compelling him, for it does not render impossible that which it does not cause him to choose. To call that _fatum_ is taking it in a good sense, which is not contrary to freedom: _fatum_ comes from _fari_, to speak, to pronounce; it signifies a judgement, a decree of God, the award of his wisdom. To say that one cannot do a thing, simply because one does not will it, is to misuse terms. The wise mind wills only the good: is it then a servitude when the will acts in accordance with wisdom? And can one be less a slave than to act by one's own choice in accordance with the most perfect reason? Aristotle used to say that that man is in a natural servitude (_natura servus_) who lacks guidance, who has need of being directed. Slavery comes from without, it leads to that which offends, and especially to that which offends with reason: the force of others and our own passions enslave us. God is never moved by anything outside himself, nor is he subject to inward passions, and he is never led to that which can cause him offence. It appears, therefore, that M. Bayle gives odious names to the best things in the world, and turns our ideas upside-down, applying the term slavery to the state of the greatest and most perfect freedom. 229. He had also said not long before (ch. 151, p. 891): 'If virtue, or any other good at all, had been as appropriate as vice for the Creator's ends, vice would not have been given preference; it must therefore have been the only means that the Creator could have used; it was therefore employed purely of necessity. As therefore he loves his glory, not with a freedom of indifference, but by necessity, he must by necessity love all the means without which he could not manifest his glory. Now if vice, as vice, was the only means of attaining to this end, it will follow that God of necessity loves vice as vice, a thought which can only inspire us with horror; and he has revealed quite the contrary to us.' He observes at the same time that certain doctors among the Supralapsarians (like Rutherford, for example) denied that God wills sin as sin, whilst they admitted [270] that he wills sin permissively in so far as it is punishable and pardonable. But he urges in objection, that an action is only punishable and pardonable in so far as it is vicious. 230. M. Bayle makes a false assumption in these words that we have just read, and draws from them false conclusions. It is not true that God loves his glory by necessity, if thereby it is understood that he is led by necessity to acquire his glory through his creatures. For if that were so, he would acquire his glory always and everywhere. The decree to create is free: God is prompted to all good; the good, and even the best, inclines him to act; but it does not compel him, for his choice creates no impossibility in that which is distinct from the best; it causes no implication of contradiction in that which God refrains from doing. There is therefore in God a freedom that is exempt not only from constraint but also from necessity. I mean this in respect of metaphysical necessity; for it is a moral necessity that the wisest should be bound to choose the best. It is the same with the means which God chooses to attain his glory. And as for vice, it has been shown in preceding pages that it is not an object of God's decree as _means_, but as _conditio sine qua non_, and that for that reason alone it is permitted. One is even less justified in saying that vice is _the only means_; it would be at most one of the means, but one of the least among innumerable others. 231. 'Another frightful consequence,' M. Bayle goes on, 'the fatality of all things, ensues: God will not have been free to arrange events in a different way, since the means he chose to show forth his glory was the only means befitting his wisdom.' This so-called fatality or necessity is only moral, as I have just shown: it does not affect freedom; on the contrary, it assumes the best use thereof; it does not render impossible the objects set aside by God's choice. 'What, then, will become', he adds, 'of man's free will? Will there not have been necessity and fatality for Adam to sin? For if he had not sinned, he would have overthrown the sole plan that God had of necessity created.' That is again a misuse of terms. Adam sinning freely was seen of God among the ideas of the possibles, and God decreed to admit him into existence as he saw him. This decree does not change the nature of the objects: it does not render necessary that which was contingent in itself, or impossible that which was possible. [271] 232. M. Bayle goes on (p. 892): 'The subtle Scotus asserts with much discernment that if God had no freedom of indifference no creature could have this kind of freedom.' I agree provided it is not meant as an indifference of equipoise, where there is no reason inclining more to one side than the other. M. Bayle acknowledges (farther on in chapter 168, p. 1111) that what is termed indifference does not exclude prevenient inclinations and pleasures. It suffices therefore that there be no metaphysical necessity in the action which is termed free, that is to say, it suffices that a choice be made between several courses possible. 233. He goes on again in the said chapter 157, p. 893: 'If God is not determined to create the world by a free motion of his goodness, but by the interests of his glory, which he loves by necessity, and which is the only thing he loves, for it is not different from his substance; and if the love that he has for himself has compelled him to show forth his glory through the most fitting means, and if the fall of man was this same means, it is evident that this fall happened entirely by necessity and that the obedience of Eve and Adam to God's commands was impossible.' Still the same error. The love that God bears to himself is essential to him, but the love for his glory, or the will to acquire his glory, is not so by any means: the love he has for himself did not impel him by necessity to actions without; they were free; and since there were possible plans whereby the first parents should not sin, their sin was therefore not necessary. Finally, I say in effect what M. Bayle acknowledges here, 'that God resolved to create the world by a free motion of his goodness'; and I add that this same motion prompted him to the best. 234. The same answer holds good against this statement of M. Bayle's (ch. 165, p. 1071): 'The means most appropriate for attaining an end is of necessity one alone' (that is very well said, at least for the cases where God has chosen). 'Therefore if God was prompted irresistibly to employ this means, he employed it by necessity.' (He was certainly prompted thereto, he was determined, or rather he determined himself thereto: but that which is certain is not always necessary, or altogether irresistible; the thing might have gone otherwise, but that did not happen, and with good reason. God chose between different courses all possible: thus, metaphysically speaking, he could have chosen or done what was not the best; but he could not morally speaking have done so. Let us make use of a comparison [272] from geometry. The best way from one point to another (leaving out of account obstacles and other considerations accidental to the medium) is one alone: it is that one which passes by the shortest line, which is the straight line. Yet there are innumerable ways from one point to another. There is therefore no necessity which binds me to go by the straight line; but as soon as I choose the best, I am determined to go that way, although this is only a moral necessity in the wise. That is why the following conclusions fail.) 'Therefore he could only do that which he did. Therefore that which has not happened or will never happen is absolutely impossible.' (These conclusions fail, I say: for since there are many things which have never happened and never will happen, and which nevertheless are clearly conceivable, and imply no contradiction, how can one say they are altogether impossible? M. Bayle has refuted that himself in a passage opposing the Spinozists, which I have already quoted here, and he has frequently acknowledged that there is nothing impossible except that which implies contradiction: now he changes style and terminology.) 'Therefore Adam's perseverance in innocence was always impossible; therefore his fall was altogether inevitable, and even antecedently to God's decree, for it implied contradiction that God should be able to will a thing opposed to his wisdom: it is, after all, the same thing to say, that it is impossible for God, as to say, God could do it, if he so willed, but he cannot will it.' (It is misusing terms in a sense to say here: one can will, one will will; 'can' here concerns the actions that one does will. Nevertheless it implies no contradiction that God should will--directly or permissively--a thing not implying contradiction, and in this sense it is permitted to say that God can will it.) 235. In a word, when one speaks of the _possibility_ of a thing it is not a question of the causes that can bring about or prevent its actual existence: otherwise one would change the nature of the terms, and render useless the distinction between the possible and the actual. This Abelard did, and Wyclif appears to have done after him, in consequence of which they fell needlessly into unsuitable and disagreeable expressions. That is why, when one asks if a thing is possible or necessary, and brings in the consideration of what God wills or chooses, one alters the issue. For God chooses among the possibles, and for that very reason he chooses [273] freely, and is not compelled; there would be neither choice nor freedom if there were but one course possible. 236. One must also answer M. Bayle's syllogisms, so as to neglect none of the objections of a man so gifted: they occur in Chapter 151 of his _Reply to the Questions of a Provincial_ (vol. III, pp. 900, 901). FIRST SYLLOGISM 'God can will nothing that is opposed to the necessary love which he has for his wisdom. 'Now the salvation of all men is opposed to the necessary love which God has for his wisdom. 'Therefore God cannot will the salvation of all men.' The major is self-evident, for one can do nothing whereof the opposite is necessary. But the minor cannot be accepted, for, albeit God loves his wisdom of necessity, the actions whereto his wisdom prompts him cannot but be free, and the objects whereto his wisdom does not prompt him do not cease to be possible. Moreover, his wisdom has prompted him to will the salvation of all men, but not by a consequent and decretory will. Yet this consequent will, being only a result of free antecedent acts of will, cannot fail to be free also. SECOND SYLLOGISM 'The work most worthy of God's wisdom involves amongst other things the sin of all men and the eternal damnation of the majority of men. 'Now God wills of necessity the work most worthy of his wisdom. 'He wills therefore of necessity the work that involves amongst other things the sin of all men and the eternal damnation of the majority of men.' The major holds good, but the minor I deny. The decrees of God are always free, even though God be always prompted thereto by reasons which lie in the intention towards good: for to be morally compelled by wisdom, to be bound by the consideration of good, is to be free; it is not compulsion in the metaphysical sense. And metaphysical necessity alone, as I have observed so many times, is opposed to freedom. 238. I shall not examine the syllogisms that M. Bayle urges in objection in the following chapter (Ch. 152), against the system of the Supralapsarians, and particularly against the oration made by Theodore de Bèze at the [274] Conference of Montbéliard in the year 1586. This conference also only served to increase the acrimony of the parties. 'God created the World to his glory: his glory is not known (according to Bèze), if his mercy and his justice are not declared; for this cause simply by his grace he decreed for some men life eternal, and for others by a just judgement eternal damnation. Mercy presupposes misery, justice presupposes guilt.' (He might have added that misery also supposes guilt.) 'Nevertheless God being good, indeed goodness itself, he created man good and righteous, but unstable, and capable of sinning of his own free will. Man did not fall at random or rashly, or through causes ordained by some other God, as the Manichaeans hold, but by the providence of God; in such a way notwithstanding, that God was not involved in the fault, inasmuch as man was not constrained to sin.' 239. This system is not of the best conceived: it is not well fitted to show forth the wisdom, the goodness and the justice of God; and happily it is almost abandoned to-day. If there were not other more profound reasons capable of inducing God to permit guilt, the source of misery, there would be neither guilt nor misery in the world, for the reasons alleged here do not suffice. He would declare his mercy better in preventing misery, and he would declare his justice better in preventing guilt, in advancing virtue, in recompensing it. Besides, one does not see how he who not only causes a man to be capable of falling, but who so disposes circumstances that they contribute towards causing his fall, is not culpable, if there are no other reasons compelling him thereto. But when one considers that God, altogether good and wise, must have produced all the virtue, goodness, happiness whereof the best plan of the universe is capable, and that often an evil in some parts may serve the greater good of the whole, one readily concludes that God may have given room for unhappiness, and even permitted guilt, as he has done, without deserving to be blamed. It is the only remedy that supplies what all systems lack, however they arrange the decrees. These thoughts have already been favoured by St. Augustine, and one may say of Eve what the poet said of the hand of Mucius Scaevola: _Si non errasset, fecerat illa minus_. 240. I find that the famous English prelate who wrote an ingenious book on the origin of evil, some passages of which were disputed by M. Bayle [275] in the second volume of his _Reply to the Questions of a Provincial_, while disagreeing with some of the opinions that I have upheld here and appearing to resort sometimes to a despotic power, as if the will of God did not follow the rules of wisdom in relation to good or evil, but decreed arbitrarily that such and such a thing must be considered good or evil; and as if even the will of the creature, in so far as it is free, did not choose because the object appears good to him, but by a purely arbitrary determination, independent of the representation of the object; this bishop, I say, in other passages nevertheless says things which seem more in favour of my doctrine than of what appears contrary thereto in his own. He says that what an infinitely wise and free cause has chosen is better than what it has not chosen. Is not that recognizing that goodness is the object and the reason of his choice? In this sense one will here aptly say: _Sic placuit superis; quaerere plura, nefas_. [276] * * * * * ESSAYS ON THE JUSTICE OF GOD AND THE FREEDOM OF MAN IN THE ORIGIN OF EVIL * * * * * PART THREE 241. Now at last I have disposed of the cause of moral evil; _physical evil_, that is, sorrows, sufferings, miseries, will be less troublesome to explain, since these are results of moral evil. _Poena est malum passionis, quod infligitur ob malum actionis_, according to Grotius. One suffers because one has acted; one suffers evil because one does evil. _Nostrorum causa malorum_ _Nos sumus_. It is true that one often suffers through the evil actions of others; but when one has no part in the offence one must look upon it as a certainty that these sufferings prepare for us a greater happiness. The question of _physical evil_, that is, of the origin of sufferings, has difficulties in common with that of the origin of _metaphysical evil_, examples whereof are furnished by the monstrosities and other apparent irregularities of the universe. But one must believe that even sufferings and monstrosities are part of order; and it is well to bear in mind not only that it was better to admit these defects and these monstrosities than to violate general laws, as Father Malebranche sometimes argues, but also that these very monstrosities are in the rules, and are in conformity with general acts of will, though we be not capable of discerning this conformity. It is [277] just as sometimes there are appearances of irregularity in mathematics which issue finally in a great order when one has finally got to the bottom of them: that is why I have already in this work observed that according to my principles all individual events, without exception, are consequences of general acts of will. 242. It should be no cause for astonishment that I endeavour to elucidate these things by comparisons taken from pure mathematics, where everything proceeds in order, and where it is possible to fathom them by a close contemplation which grants us an enjoyment, so to speak, of the vision of the ideas of God. One may propose a succession or series of numbers perfectly irregular to all appearance, where the numbers increase and diminish variably without the emergence of any order; and yet he who knows the key to the formula, and who understands the origin and the structure of this succession of numbers, will be able to give a rule which, being properly understood, will show that the series is perfectly regular, and that it even has excellent properties. One may make this still more evident in lines. A line may have twists and turns, ups and downs, points of reflexion and points of inflexion, interruptions and other variations, so that one sees neither rhyme nor reason therein, especially when taking into account only a portion of the line; and yet it may be that one can give its equation and construction, wherein a geometrician would find the reason and the fittingness of all these so-called irregularities. That is how we must look upon the irregularities constituted by monstrosities and other so-called defects in the universe. 243. In this sense one may apply that fine adage of St. Bernard (Ep. 276, Ad Eugen., III): 'Ordinatissimum est, minus interdum ordinate fieri aliquid.' It belongs to the great order that there should be some small disorder. One may even say that this small disorder is apparent only in the whole, and it is not even apparent when one considers the happiness of those who walk in the ways of order. 244. When I mention monstrosities I include numerous other apparent defects besides. We are acquainted with hardly anything but the surface of our globe; we scarce penetrate into its interior beyond a few hundred fathoms. That which we find in this crust of the globe appears to be the effect of some great upheavals. It seems that this globe was once on fire, and that the rocks forming the base of this crust of the earth are scoria remaining from a great fusion. In their entrails are found metal and mineral [278] products, which closely resemble those emanating from our furnaces: and the entire sea may be a kind of _oleum per deliquium_, just as tartaric oil forms in a damp place. For when the earth's surface cooled after the great conflagration the moisture that the fire had driven into the air fell back upon the earth, washed its surface and dissolved and absorbed the solid salt that was left in the cinders, finally filling up this great cavity in the surface of our globe, to form the ocean filled with salt water. 245. But, after the fire, one must conclude that earth and water made ravages no less. It may be that the crust formed by the cooling, having below it great cavities, fell in, so that we live only on ruins, as among others Thomas Burnet, Chaplain to the late King of Great Britain, aptly observed. Sundry deluges and inundations have left deposits, whereof traces and remains are found which show that the sea was in places that to-day are most remote from it. But these upheavals ceased at last, and the globe assumed the shape that we see. Moses hints at these changes in few words: the separation of light from darkness indicates the melting caused by the fire; and the separation of the moist from the dry marks the effects of inundations. But who does not see that these disorders have served to bring things to the point where they now are, that we owe to them our riches and our comforts, and that through their agency this globe became fit for cultivation by us. These disorders passed into order. The disorders, real or apparent, that we see from afar are sunspots and comets; but we do not know what uses they supply, nor the rules prevailing therein. Time was when the planets were held to be wandering stars: now their motion is found to be regular. Peradventure it is the same with the comets: posterity will know. 246. One does not include among the disorders inequality of conditions, and M. Jacquelot is justified in asking those who would have everything equally perfect, why rocks are not crowned with leaves and flowers? why ants are not peacocks? And if there must needs be equality everywhere, the poor man would serve notice of appeal against the rich, the servant against the master. The pipes of an organ must not be of equal size. M. Bayle will say that there is a difference between a privation of good and a disorder; between a disorder in inanimate things, which is purely metaphysical, and a disorder in rational creatures, which is composed of crime and [279] sufferings. He is right in making a distinction between them, and I am right in combining them. God does not neglect inanimate things: they do not feel, but God feels for them. He does not neglect animals: they have not intelligence, but God has it for them. He would reproach himself for the slightest actual defect there were in the universe, even though it were perceived of none. 247. It seems M. Bayle does not approve any comparison between the disorders which may exist in inanimate things and those which trouble the peace and happiness of rational creatures; nor would he agree to our justifying the permission of vice on the pretext of the care that must be taken to avoid disturbing the laws of motion. One might thence conclude, according to him (posthumous Reply to M. Jacquelot, p. 183), 'that God created the world only to display his infinite skill in architecture and mechanics, whilst his property of goodness and love of virtue took no part in the construction of this great work. This God would pride himself only on skill; he would prefer to let the whole human kind perish rather than suffer some atoms to go faster or more slowly than general laws require.' M. Bayle would not have made this antithesis if he had been informed on the system of general harmony which I assume, which states that the realm of efficient causes and that of final causes are parallel to each other; that God has no less the quality of the best monarch than that of the greatest architect; that matter is so disposed that the laws of motion serve as the best guidance for spirits; and that consequently it will prove that he has attained the utmost good possible, provided one reckon the metaphysical, physical and moral goods together. 248. But (M. Bayle will say) God having power to avert innumerable evils by one small miracle, why did he not employ it? He gives so much extraordinary help to fallen men; but slight help of such a kind given to Eve would have prevented her fall and rendered the temptation of the serpent ineffective. I have sufficiently met objections of this sort with this general answer, that God ought not to make choice of another universe since he has chosen the best, and has only made use of the miracles necessary thereto. I had answered M. Bayle that miracles change the natural order of the universe. He replies, that that is an illusion, and that the miracle of the wedding at Cana (for instance) made no change in the air of the room, except that instead of receiving into its pores some corpuscles of water, it [280] received corpuscles of wine. But one must bear in mind that once the best plan of things has been chosen nothing can be changed therein. 249. As for miracles (concerning which I have already said something in this work), they are perhaps not all of one and the same kind: there are many, to all appearances, which God brings about through the ministry of invisible substances, such as the angels, as Father Malebranche also believes. These angels or these substances act according to the ordinary laws of their nature, being combined with bodies more rarefied and more vigorous than those we have at our command. And such miracles are only so by comparison, and in relation to us; just as our works would be considered miraculous amongst animals if they were capable of remarking upon them. The changing of water into wine might be a miracle of this kind. But the Creation, the Incarnation and some other actions of God exceed all the power of creatures and are truly miracles, or indeed Mysteries. If, nevertheless, the changing of water into wine at Cana was a miracle of the highest kind, God would have thereby changed the whole course of the universe, because of the connexion of bodies; or else he would have been bound to prevent this connexion miraculously also, and cause the bodies not concerned in the miracle to act as if no miracle had happened. After the miracle was over, it would have been necessary to restore all things in those very bodies concerned to the state they would have reached without the miracle: whereafter all would have returned to its original course. Thus this miracle demanded more than at first appears. 250. As for physical evil in creatures, to wit their sufferings, M. Bayle contends vigorously against those who endeavour to justify by means of particular reasons the course of action pursued by God in regard to this. Here I set aside the sufferings of animals, and I see that M. Bayle insists chiefly on those of men, perhaps because he thinks that brute beasts have no feeling. It is on account of the injustice there would be in the sufferings of beasts that divers Cartesians wished to prove that they are only machines, _quoniam sub Deo justo nemo innocens miser est_: it is impossible that an innocent creature should be unhappy under such a master as God. The principle is good, but I do not think it warrants the inference that beasts have no feeling, because I think that, properly speaking, perception is not sufficient to cause misery if it is not accompanied [281] by reflexion. It is the same with happiness: without reflexion there is none. _O fortunatos nimium, sua qui bona norint!_ One cannot reasonably doubt the existence of pain among animals; but it seems as if their pleasures and their pains are not so keen as they are in man: for animals, since they do not reflect, are susceptible neither to the grief that accompanies pain, nor to the joy that accompanies pleasure. Men are sometimes in a state approaching that of the beasts, when they act almost on instinct alone and simply on the impressions made by the experience of the senses: and, in this state, their pleasures and their pains are very slight. 251. But let us pass from the beasts and return to rational creatures. It is with regard to them that M. Bayle discusses this question: whether there is more physical evil than physical good in the world? (_Reply to the Questions of a Provincial_, vol. II, ch. 75.) To settle it aright, one must explain wherein these goods and evils lie. We are agreed that physical evil is simply displeasure and under that heading I include pain, grief, and every other kind of discomfort. But does physical good lie solely in pleasure? M. Bayle appears to be of this opinion; but I consider that it lies also in a middle state, such as that of health. One is well enough when one has no ill; it is a degree of wisdom to have no folly: _Sapientia prima est,_ _Stultitia caruisse_. In the same way one is worthy of praise when one cannot with justice be blamed: _Si non culpabor, sat mihi laudis erit_. That being the case, all the sensations not unpleasing to us, all the exercises of our powers that do not incommode us, and whose prevention would incommode us, are physical goods, even when they cause us no pleasure; for privation of them is a physical evil. Besides we only perceive the good of health, and other like goods, when we are deprived of them. On those terms I would dare to maintain that even in this life goods exceed evils, that our comforts exceed our discomforts, and that M. Descartes was justified in writing (vol. I, Letter 9) 'that natural reason teaches us that we have more goods than evils in this life'. [282] 252. It must be added that pleasures enjoyed too often and to excess would be a very great evil. There are some which Hippocrates compared to the falling sickness, and Scioppius doubtless only made pretence of envying the sparrows in order to be agreeably playful in a learned and far from playful work. Highly seasoned foods are injurious to health and impair the niceness of a delicate sense; and in general bodily pleasures are a kind of expenditure of the spirit, though they be made good in some better than in others. 253. As proof, however, that the evil exceeds the good is quoted the instance of M. de la Motte le Vayer (Letter 134), who would not have been willing to return to the world, supposing he had had to play the same part as providence had already assigned to him. But I have already said that I think one would accept the proposal of him who could re-knot the thread of Fate if a new part were promised to us, even though it should not be better than the first. Thus from M. de la Motte le Vayer's saying it does not follow that he would not have wished for the part he had already played, provided it had been new, as M. Bayle seems to take it. 254. The pleasures of the mind are the purest, and of greatest service in making joy endure. Cardan, when already an old man, was so content with his state that he protested solemnly that he would not exchange it for the state of the richest of young men who at the same time was ignorant. M. de la Motte le Vayer quotes the saying himself without criticizing it. Knowledge has doubtless charms which cannot be conceived by those who have not tasted them. I do not mean a mere knowledge of facts without that of reasons, but knowledge like that of Cardan, who with all his faults was a great man, and would have been incomparable without those faults. _Felix, qui potuit rerum cognoscere causas!_ _Ille metus omnes et inexorabile fatum_ _Subjecit pedibus._ It is no small thing to be content with God and with the universe, not to fear what destiny has in store for us, nor to complain of what befalls us. Acquaintance with true principles gives us this advantage, quite other than that the Stoics and the Epicureans derived from their philosophy. There is as much difference between true morality and theirs as there is [283] between joy and patience: for their tranquillity was founded only on necessity, while ours must rest upon the perfection and beauty of things, upon our own happiness. 255. What, then, shall we say of bodily sufferings? May they not be sufficiently acute to disturb the sage's tranquillity? Aristotle assents; the Stoics were of a different opinion, and even the Epicureans likewise. M. Descartes revived the doctrine of these philosophers; he says in the letter just quoted: 'that even amid the worst misfortunes and the most overwhelming sufferings one may always be content, if only one knows how to exercise reason'. M. Bayle says concerning this (_Reply to the Questions of a Provincial_, vol. III, ch. 157, p. 991) 'that it is saying nothing, that it is prescribing for us a remedy whose preparation hardly anyone understands'. I hold that the thing is not impossible, and that men could attain it by dint of meditation and practice. For apart from the true martyrs and those who have been aided in wonderful wise from on high, there have been counterfeits who imitated them. That Spanish slave who killed the Carthaginian governor in order to avenge his master and who evinced great joy in his deed, even in the greatest tortures, may shame the philosophers. Why should not one go as far as he? One may say of an advantage, as of a disadvantage: _Cuivis potest accidere, quod cuiquam potest_. 256. But even to-day entire tribes, such as the Hurons, the Iroquois, the Galibis and other peoples of America teach us a great lesson on this matter: one cannot read without astonishment of the intrepidity and well-nigh insensibility wherewith they brave their enemies, who roast them over a slow fire and eat them by slices. If such people could retain their physical superiority and their courage, and combine them with our acquirements, they would surpass us in every way, _Extat ut in mediis turris aprica casis_. They would be, in comparison with us, as a giant to a dwarf, a mountain to a hill: _Quantus Eryx, et quantus Athos, gaudetque nivali_ _Vertice se attollens pater Apenninus ad auras._ [284] 257. All that which is effected by a wonderful vigour of body and mind in these savages, who persist obstinately in the strangest point of honour, might be acquired in our case by training, by well-seasoned mortifications, by an overmastering joy founded on reason, by great practice in preserving a certain presence of mind in the midst of the distractions and impressions most liable to disturb it. Something of this kind is related of the ancient Assassins, subjects and pupils of the Old Man or rather the Seigneur (_Senior_) of the Mountain. Such a school (for a better purpose) would be good for missionaries who would wish to return to Japan. The Gymnosophists of the ancient Indians had perhaps something resembling this, and that Calanus, who provided for Alexander the Great the spectacle of his burning alive, had doubtless been encouraged by the great examples of his masters and trained by great sufferings not to fear pain. The wives of these same Indians, who even to-day ask to be burned with the bodies of their husbands, seem still to keep something of the courage of those ancient philosophers of their country. I do not expect that there should straightway be founded a religious order whose purpose would be to exalt man to that high pitch of perfection: such people would be too much above the rest, and too formidable for the authorities. As it rarely happens that people are exposed to extremes where such great strength of mind would be needed, one will scarce think of providing for it at the expense of our usual comforts, albeit incomparably more would be gained than lost thereby. 258. Nevertheless the very fact that one has no need of that great remedy is a proof that the good already exceeds the evil. Euripides also said: [Greek: pleiô ta chrêsta tôn kakôn einai brotois]. _Mala nostra longe judico vinci a bonis._ Homer and divers other poets were of another mind, and men in general agree with them. The reason for this is that the evil arouses our attention rather than the good: but this same reason proves that the evil is more rare. One must therefore not credit the petulant expressions of Pliny, who would have it that Nature is a stepmother, and who maintains that man is the most unhappy and most vain of all creatures. These two epithets do not agree: one is not so very unhappy, when one is full of oneself. It is [285] true that men hold human nature only too much in contempt, apparently because they see no other creatures capable of arousing their emulation; but they have all too much self-esteem, and individually are but too easily satisfied. I therefore agree with Meric Casaubon, who in his notes on the Xenophanes of Diogenes Laertius praises exceedingly the admirable sentiments of Euripides, going so far as to credit him with having said things _quae spirant_ [Greek: theopneuston] _pectus_. Seneca (Lib. 4, c. 5, _De Benefic._) speaks eloquently of the blessings Nature has heaped upon us. M. Bayle in his _Dictionary_, article 'Xenophanes', brings up sundry authorities against this, and among others that of the poet Diphilus in the Collections of Stobaeus, whose Greek might be thus expressed in Latin: _Fortuna cyathis bibere nos datis jubens,_ _Infundit uno terna pro bono mala._ 259. M. Bayle believes that if it were a question only of the evil of guilt, or of moral evil among men, the case would soon be terminated to the advantage of Pliny, and Euripides would lose his action. To that I am not opposed; our vices doubtless exceed our virtues, and this is the effect of original sin. It is nevertheless true that also on that point men in general exaggerate things, and that even some theologians disparage man so much that they wrong the providence of the Author of mankind. That is why I am not in favour of those who thought to do great honour to our religion by saying that the virtues of the pagans were only _splendida peccata_, splendid vices. It is a sally of St. Augustine's which has no foundation in holy Scripture, and which offends reason. But here we are only discussing a physical good and evil, and one must compare in detail the prosperities and the adversities of this life. M. Bayle would wish almost to set aside the consideration of health; he likens it to the rarefied bodies, which are scarcely felt, like air, for example; but he likens pain to the bodies that have much density and much weight in slight volume. But pain itself makes us aware of the importance of health when we are bereft of it. I have already observed that excess of physical pleasures would be a real evil, and the matter ought not to be otherwise; it is too important for the spirit to be free. Lactantius (_Divin. Instit._, lib. 3, cap. 18) had said that men are so squeamish that they complain of the slightest ill, as if it swallowed up all the goods they have enjoyed. M. Bayle says, concerning this, that the very fact that men have this feeling warrants the [286] judgement that they are in evil case, since it is feeling which measures the extent of good or evil. But I answer that present feeling is anything rather than the true measure of good and evil past and future. I grant that one is in evil case while one makes these peevish reflexions; but that does not exclude a previous state of well-being, nor imply that, everything reckoned in and all allowance made, the good does not exceed the evil. 260. I do not wonder that the pagans, dissatisfied with their gods, made complaints against Prometheus and Epimetheus for having forged so weak an animal as man. Nor do I wonder that they acclaimed the fable of old Silenus, foster-father of Bacchus, who was seized by King Midas, and as the price of his deliverance taught him that ostensibly fine maxim that the first and the greatest of goods was not to be born, and the second, to depart from this life with dispatch (Cic., _Tuscul._, lib. 1). Plato believed that souls had been in a happier state, and many of the ancients, amongst others Cicero in his Consolation (according to the account of Lactantius), believed that for their sins they were confined in bodies as in a prison. They rendered thus a reason for our ills, and asserted their prejudices against human life: for there is no such thing as a beautiful prison. But quite apart from the consideration that, even according to these same pagans, the evils of this life would be counterbalanced and exceeded by the goods of past and future lives, I make bold to say that we shall find, upon unbiassed scrutiny of the facts, that taking all in all human life is in general tolerable. And adding thereto the motives of religion, we shall be content with the order God has set therein. Moreover, for a better judgement of our goods and our evils, it will be well to read Cardan, _De Utilitate ex Adversis Capienda_, and Novarini, _De Occultis Dei Beneficiis_. 261. M. Bayle dilates upon the misfortunes of the great, who are thought to be the most fortunate: the constant experience of the fair aspect of their condition renders them unaware of good, but greatly aware of evil. Someone will say: so much the worse for them; if they know not how to enjoy the advantages of nature and fortune, is that the fault of either? There are nevertheless great men possessed of more wisdom, who know how to profit by the favours God has shown them, who are easily consoled for their misfortunes, and who even turn their own faults to account. M. Bayle [287] pays no heed to that: he prefers to listen to Pliny, who thinks that Augustus, one of the princes most favoured by fortune, experienced at least as much evil as good. I admit that he found great causes of trouble in his family and that remorse for having crushed the Republic may have tormented him; but I think that he was too wise to grieve over the former, and that Maecenas apparently made him understand that Rome had need of a master. Had not Augustus been converted on this point, Vergil would never have said of a lost soul: _Vendidit hic auro patriam Dominumque potentem_ _Imposuit, fixit leges pretio atque refixit._ Augustus would have thought that he and Caesar were alluded to in these lines, which speak of a master given to a free state. But there is every indication that he applied it just as little to his dominion, which he regarded as compatible with liberty and as a necessary remedy for public evils, as the princes of to-day apply to themselves the words used of the kings censured in M. de Cambray's _Telemachus_. Each one considers himself within his rights. Tacitus, an unbiassed writer, justifies Augustus in two words, at the beginning of his _Annals_. But Augustus was better able than anyone to judge of his good fortune. He appears to have died content, as may be inferred from a proof he gave of contentedness with his life: for in dying he repeated to his friends a line in Greek, which has the signification of that _Plaudite_ that was wont to be spoken at the conclusion of a well-acted play. Suetonius quotes it: [Greek: Dote kroton kai pantes hymeis meta charas ktypêsate.] 262. But even though there should have fallen to the lot of the human kind more evil than good, it is enough where God is concerned that there is incomparably more good than evil in the universe. Rabbi Maimonides (whose merit is not sufficiently recognized in the statement that he is the first of the Rabbis to have ceased talking nonsense) also gave wise judgement on this question of the predominance of good over evil in the world. Here is what he says in his _Doctor Perplexorum_ (cap. 12, p. 3): 'There arise often in the hearts of ill-instructed persons thoughts which persuade them there is more evil than good in the world: and one often finds in the poems and songs of the pagans that it is as it were a miracle when something good comes to pass, whereas evils are usual and constant. This error has [288] taken hold not of the common herd only, those very persons who wish to be considered wise have been beguiled thereby. A celebrated writer named Alrasi, in his _Sepher Elohuth_, or Theosophy, amongst other absurdities has stated that there are more evils than goods, and that upon comparison of the recreations and the pleasures man enjoys in times of tranquillity with the pains, the torments, the troubles, faults, cares, griefs and afflictions whereby he is overwhelmed our life would prove to be a great evil, and an actual penalty inflicted upon us to punish us.' Maimonides adds that the cause of their extravagant error is their supposition that Nature was made for them only, and that they hold of no account what is separate from their person; whence they infer that when something unpleasing to them occurs all goes ill in the universe. 263. M. Bayle says that this observation of Maimonides is not to the point, because the question is whether among men evil exceeds good. But, upon consideration of the Rabbi's words, I find that the question he formulates is general, and that he wished to refute those who decide it on one particular motive derived from the evils of the human race, as if all had been made for man; and it seems as though the author whom he refutes spoke also of good and evil in general. Maimonides is right in saying that if one took into account the littleness of man in relation to the universe one would comprehend clearly that the predominance of evil, even though it prevailed among men, need not on that account occur among the angels, nor among the heavenly bodies, nor among the elements and inanimate compounds, nor among many kinds of animals. I have shown elsewhere that in supposing that the number of the damned exceeds that of the saved (a supposition which is nevertheless not altogether certain) one might admit that there is more evil than good in respect of the human kind known to us. But I pointed out that that neither precludes the existence of incomparably more good than evil, both moral and physical, in rational creatures in general, nor prevents the city of God, which contains all creatures, from being the most perfect state. So also on consideration of the metaphysical good and evil which is in all substances, whether endowed with or devoid of intelligence, and which taken in such scope would include physical good and moral good, one must say that the universe, such as it actually is, must be the best of all systems. [289] 264. Moreover, M. Bayle will not have it that our transgression should have anything to do with the consideration of our sufferings. He is right when it is simply a matter of appraising these sufferings; but the case is not the same when one asks whether they should be ascribed to God, this indeed being the principal cause of M. Bayle's difficulties when he places reason or experience in opposition to religion. I know that he is wont to say that it is of no avail to resort to our free will, since his objections tend also to prove that the misuse of free will must no less be laid to the account of God, who has permitted it and who has co-operated therein. He states it as a maxim that for one difficulty more or less one must not abandon a system. This he advances especially in favour of the methods of the strict and the dogma of the Supralapsarians. For he supposes that one can subscribe to their opinion, although he leaves all the difficulties in their entirety, because the other systems, albeit they put an end to some of the difficulties, cannot meet them all. I hold that the true system I have expounded satisfies all. Nevertheless, even were that not so, I confess that I cannot relish this maxim of M. Bayle's, and I should prefer a system which would remove a great portion of the difficulties, to one which would meet none of them. And the consideration of the wickedness of men, which brings upon them well-nigh all their misfortunes, shows at least that they have no right to complain. No justice need trouble itself over the origin of a scoundrel's wickedness when it is only a question of punishing him: it is quite another matter when it is a question of prevention. One knows well that disposition, upbringing, conversation, and often chance itself, have much share in that origin: is the man any the less deserving of punishment? 265. I confess that there still remains another difficulty. If God is not bound to account to the wicked for their wickedness, it seems as if he owes to himself, and to those who honour him and love him, justification for his course of action with regard to the permission of vice and crime. But God has already given that satisfaction, as far as it is needed here on earth: by granting us the light of reason he has bestowed upon us the means whereby we may meet all difficulties. I hope that I have made it plain in this discourse, and have elucidated the matter in the preceding portion of these Essays, almost as far as it can be done through general arguments. Thereafter, the permission of sin being justified, the other evils [290] that are a consequence thereof present no further difficulty. Thus also I am justified in restricting myself here to the evil of guilt to account for the evil of punishment, as Holy Scripture does, and likewise well-nigh all the Fathers of the Church and the Preachers. And, to the end that none may say that is only good _per la predica_, it is enough to consider that, after the solutions I have given, nothing must seem more right or more exact than this method. For God, having found already among things possible, before his actual decrees, man misusing his freedom and bringing upon himself his misfortune, yet could not avoid admitting him into existence, because the general plan required this. Wherefore it will no longer be necessary to say with M. Jurieu that one must dogmatize like St. Augustine and preach like Pelagius. 266. This method, deriving the evil of punishment from the evil of guilt, cannot be open to censure, and serves especially to account for the greatest physical evil, which is damnation. Ernst Sonner, sometime Professor of Philosophy at Altorf (a university established in the territory of the free city of Nuremberg), who was considered an excellent Aristotelian, but was finally recognized as being secretly a Socinian, had composed a little discourse entitled: _Demonstration against the Eternity of Punishment_. It was founded on this somewhat trite principle, that there is no proportion between an infinite punishment and a finite guilt. It was conveyed to me, printed (so it seemed) in Holland; and I replied that there was one thing to be considered which had escaped the late Herr Sonner: namely that it was enough to say that the duration of the guilt caused the duration of the penalty. Since the damned remained wicked they could not be withdrawn from their misery; and thus one need not, in order to justify the continuation of their sufferings, assume that sin has become of infinite weight through the infinite nature of the object offended, who is God. This thesis I had not explored enough to pass judgement thereon. I know that the general opinion of the Schoolmen, according to the Master of the Sentences, is that in the other life there is neither merit nor demerit; but I do not think that, taken literally, it can pass for an article of faith. Herr Fecht, a famous theologian at Rostock, well refuted that in his book on _The State of the Damned_. It is quite wrong, he says (§ 59); God cannot change his nature; justice is essential to him; death has closed the door of grace, but not that of justice. [291] 267. I have observed that sundry able theologians have accounted for the duration of the pains of the damned as I have just done. Johann Gerhard, a famous theologian of the Augsburg Confession (in _Locis Theol._, loco de Inferno, § 60), brings forward amongst other arguments that the damned have still an evil will and lack the grace that could render it good. Zacharias Ursinus, a theologian of Heidelberg, who follows Calvin, having formulated this question (in his treatise _De Fide_) why sin merits an eternal punishment, advances first the common reason, that the person offended is infinite, and then also this second reason, _quod non cessante peccato non potest cessare poena_. And the Jesuit Father Drexler says in his book entitled _Nicetas, or Incontinence Overcome_ (book 2, ch. 11, § 9): 'Nec mirum damnatos semper torqueri, continue blasphemant, et sic quasi semper peccant, semper ergo plectuntur.' He declares and approves the same reason in his work on _Eternity_ (book 2, ch. 15) saying: 'Sunt qui dicant, nec displicet responsum: scelerati in locis infernis semper peccant, ideo semper puniuntur.' And he indicates thereby that this opinion is very common among learned men in the Roman Church. He alleges, it is true, another more subtle reason, derived from Pope Gregory the Great (lib. 4, Dial. c. 44), that the damned are punished eternally because God foresaw by a kind of _mediate knowledge_ that they would always have sinned if they had always lived upon earth. But it is a hypothesis very much open to question. Herr Fecht quotes also various eminent Protestant theologians for Herr Gerhard's opinion, although he mentions also some who think differently. 268. M. Bayle himself in various places has supplied me with passages from two able theologians of his party, which have some reference to these statements of mine. M. Jurieu in his book on the _Unity of the Church_, in opposition to that written by M. Nicole on the same subject, gives the opinion (p. 379) 'that reason tells us that a creature which cannot cease to be criminal can also not cease to be miserable'. M. Jacquelot in his book on _The Conformity of Faith with Reason_ (p. 220) is of opinion 'that the damned must remain eternally deprived of the glory of the blessed, and that this deprivation might well be the origin and the cause of all their pains, through the reflexions these unhappy creatures make upon their crimes which have deprived them of an eternal bliss. One knows what burning regrets, what pain envy causes to those who see themselves deprived of a good, of a notable honour which had been offered to them, and which [292] they rejected, especially when they see others invested with it.' This position is a little different from that of M. Jurieu, but both agree in this sentiment, that the damned are themselves the cause of the continuation of their torments. M. le Clerc's Origenist does not entirely differ from this opinion when he says in the _Select Library_ (vol. 7, p. 341): 'God, who foresaw that man would fall, does not condemn him on that account, but only because, although he has the power to recover himself, he yet does not do so, that is, he freely retains his evil ways to the end of his life.' If he carries this reasoning on beyond this life, he will ascribe the continuation of the pains of the wicked to the continuation of their guilt. 269. M. Bayle says (_Reply to the Questions of a Provincial_, ch. 175, p. 1188) 'that this dogma of the Origenist is heretical, in that it teaches that damnation is not founded simply on sin, but on voluntary impenitence': but is not this voluntary impenitence a continuation of sin? I would not simply say, however, that it is because man, having the power to recover himself, does not; and would wish to add that it is because man does not take advantage of the succour of grace to aid him to recover himself. But after this life, though one assume that the succour ceases, there is always in the man who sins, even when he is damned, a freedom which renders him culpable, and a power, albeit remote, of recovering himself, even though it should never pass into action. And there is no reason why one may not say that this degree of freedom, exempt from necessity, but not exempt from certainty, remains in the damned as well as in the blessed. Moreover, the damned have no need of a succour that is needed in this life, for they know only too well what one must believe here. 270. The illustrious prelate of the Anglican Church who published recently a book on the origin of evil, concerning which M. Bayle made some observations in the second volume of his _Reply_, speaks with much subtlety about the pains of the damned. This prelate's opinion is presented (according to the author of the _Nouvelles de la République des Lettres_, June 1703) as if he made 'of the damned just so many madmen who will feel their miseries acutely, but who will nevertheless congratulate themselves on their own behaviour, and who will rather choose to be, and to be that which they are, than not to be at all. They will love their state, unhappy as it will be, even as angry people, lovers, the ambitious, the [293] envious take pleasure in the very things that only augment their misery. Furthermore the ungodly will have so accustomed their mind to wrong judgements that they will henceforth never make any other kind, and will perpetually pass from one error into another. They will not be able to refrain from desiring perpetually things whose enjoyment will be denied them, and, being deprived of which, they will fall into inconceivable despair, while experience can never make them wiser for the future. For by their own fault they will have altogether corrupted their understanding, and will have rendered it incapable of passing a sound judgement on any matter.' 271. The ancients already imagined that the Devil dwells remote from God voluntarily, in the midst of his torments, and that he is unwilling to redeem himself by an act of submission. They invented a tale that an anchorite in a vision received a promise from God that he would receive into grace the Prince of the bad angels if he would acknowledge his fault; but that the devil rebuffed this mediator in a strange manner. At the least, the theologians usually agree that the devils and the damned hate God and blaspheme him; and such a state cannot but be followed by continuation of misery. Concerning that, one may read the learned treatise of Herr Fecht on the _State of the Damned_. 272. There were times when the belief was held that it was not impossible for a lost soul to be delivered. The story told of Pope Gregory the Great is well known, how by his prayers he had withdrawn from hell the soul of the Emperor Trajan, whose goodness was so renowned that to new emperors the wish was offered that they should surpass Augustus in good fortune and Trajan in goodness. It was this that won for the latter the pity of the Holy Father. God acceded to his prayers (it is said), but he forbade him to make the like prayers in future. According to this fable, the prayers of St. Gregory had the force of the remedies of Aesculapius, who recalled Hippolytus from Hades; and, if he had continued to make such prayers, God would have waxed wroth, like Jupiter in Vergil: _At pater omnipotens aliquem indignatus ab umbris_ _Mortalem infernis ad lumina surgere vitae,_ _Ipse repertorem medicinae talis et artis_ _Fulmine Phoebigenam Stygias detrusit ad undas._ [294] Godescalc, a monk of the ninth century, who set at variance the theologians of his day, and even those of our day, maintained that the reprobate should pray God to render their pains more bearable; but one is never justified in believing oneself reprobate so long as one is alive. The passage in the Mass for the dead is more reasonable: it asks for the abatement of the torments of the damned, and, according to the hypothesis that I have just stated, one must wish for them _meliorem mentem_. Origen having applied the passage from Psalm lxxvii, verse 10: God will not forget to be gracious, neither will he shut up his loving-kindness in displeasure, St. Augustine replies _(Enchirid._, c. 112) that it is possible that the pains of the damned last eternally, and that they may nevertheless be mitigated. If the text implied that, the abatement would, as regards its duration, go on to infinity; and yet that abatement would, as regards its extent, have a _non plus ultra_. Even so there are asymptote figures in geometry where an infinite length makes only a finite progress in breadth. If the parable of the wicked rich man represented the state of a definitely lost soul, the hypothesis which makes these souls so mad and so wicked would be groundless. But the charity towards his brothers attributed to him in the parable does not seem to be consistent with that degree of wickedness which is ascribed to the damned. St. Gregory the Great (IX _Mor._, 39) thinks that the rich man was afraid lest their damnation should increase his: but it seems as though this fear is not sufficiently consistent with the disposition of a perfectly wicked will. Bonaventura, on the Master of the Sentences, says that the wicked rich man would have desired to see everyone damned; but since that was not to be, he desired the salvation of his brothers rather than that of the rest. This reply is by no means sound. On the contrary, the mission of Lazarus that he desired would have served to save many people; and he who takes so much pleasure in the damnation of others that he desires it for everyone will perhaps desire that damnation for some more than others; but, generally speaking, he will have no inclination to gain salvation for anyone. However that may be, one must admit that all this detail is problematical, God having revealed to us all that is needed to put us in fear of the greatest of misfortunes, and not what is needed for our understanding thereof. 273. Now since it is henceforth permitted to have recourse to the misuse of free will, and to evil will, in order to account for other evils, [295] since the divine permission of this misuse is plainly enough justified, the ordinary system of the theologians meets with justification at the same time. Now we can seek with confidence _the origin of evil in the freedom of creatures_. The first wickedness is well known to us, it is that of the Devil and his angels: the Devil sinneth from the beginning, and for this purpose the Son of God was manifested, that he might destroy the works of the Devil (1 John iii. 8). The Devil is the father of wickedness, he was a murderer from the beginning, and abode not in the truth (John viii. 44). And therefore God spared not the angels that sinned, but cast them down to Hell, and delivered them into chains of darkness, to be reserved unto judgement (2 Pet. ii. 4). And the angels which kept not their own habitation, he hath reserved in _eternal_ (that is to say everlasting) chains under darkness unto the judgement of the great day (Jude i. 6). Whence it is easy to observe that one of these two letters must have been seen by the author of the other. 274. It seems as if the author of the Apocalypse wished to throw light upon what the other canonical writers had left obscure: he gives us an account of a battle that took place in Heaven. Michael and his angels fought against the Dragon, and the Dragon fought and his angels. 'But they prevailed not, neither was their place found any more in heaven. And the great Dragon was cast out, that old serpent, called the Devil, and Satan, which deceiveth the whole world: and he was cast out into the earth, and his angels were cast out with him' (Rev. xii. 7, 8, 9). For although this account is placed after the flight of the woman into the wilderness, and it may have been intended to indicate thereby some revulsion favourable to the Church, it appears as though the author's design was to show simultaneously the old fall of the first enemy and a new fall of a new enemy. 275. Lying or wickedness springs from the Devil's own nature, [Greek: ek tôn idiôn] from his will, because it was written in the book of the eternal verities, which contains the things possible before any decree of God, that this creature would freely turn toward evil if it were created. It is the same with Eve and Adam; they sinned freely, albeit the Devil tempted them. God gives the wicked over to a reprobate mind (Rom. i. 28), abandoning them to themselves and denying them a grace which he owes them not, and indeed ought to deny to them. 276. It is said in the Scriptures that God hardeneth (Exod. iv. 21 and[296] vii. 3; Isa. lxiii. 17); that God sendeth a lying spirit (1 Kings xxii. 23); strong delusion that they should believe a lie (2 Thess. ii. 11); that he deceived the prophet (Ezek. xiv. 9); that he commanded Shimei to curse (2 Sam xvi. 10); that the children of Eli hearkened not unto the voice of their father, because the Lord would slay them (1 Sam. ii. 25); that the Lord took away Job's substance, even although that was done through the malice of brigands (Job i. 21); that he raised up Pharaoh, to show his power in him (Exod. ix. 19; Rom. ix. 17) that he is like a potter who maketh a vessel unto dishonour (Rom. ix. 21); that he hideth the truth from the wise and prudent (Matt. xi. 25); that he speaketh in parables unto them that are without, that seeing they may see and not perceive, and hearing they may hear and not understand, lest at any time they might be converted, and their sins might be forgiven them (Mark iv. 12; Luke viii. 10); that Jesus was delivered by the determinate counsel and foreknowledge of God (Acts ii. 23); that Pontius Pilate and Herod with the Gentiles and the people of Israel did that which the hand and the counsel of God had determined before to be done (Acts iv. 27, 28); that it was of the Lord to harden the hearts of the enemy, that they should come against Israel in battle, that he might destroy them utterly, and that they might have no favour (Joshua xi. 20); that the Lord mingled a perverse spirit in the midst of Egypt, and caused it to err in all its works, like a drunken man (Isa. xix. 14); that Rehoboam hearkened not unto the word of the people, for the cause was from the Lord (1 Kings xii. 15); that he turned the hearts of the Egyptians to hate his people (Ps. cv. 25). But all these and other like expressions suggest only that the things God has done are used as occasion for ignorance, error, malice and evil deeds, and contribute thereto, God indeed foreseeing this, and intending to use it for his ends, since superior reasons of perfect wisdom have determined him to permit these evils, and even to co-operate therein. 'Sed non sineret bonus fieri male, nisi omnipotens etiam de malo posset facere bene', in St. Augustine's words. But this has been expounded more fully in the preceding part. 277. God made man in his image (Gen. i. 26); he made him upright (Eccles. vii. 29). But also he made him free. Man has behaved badly, he has fallen; but there remains still a certain freedom after the fall. Moses said as from God: 'I call heaven and earth to record this day against you, that I have set before you life and death, blessing and cursing; therefore [297] choose life' (Deut. xxx. 19). 'Thus saith the Lord: Behold, I set before you the way of life, and the way of death' (Jer. xxi. 8). He has left man in the power of his counsel, giving him his ordinances and his commandments. 'If thou wilt, thou shalt keep the commandments' (or they shall keep thee). 'He hath set before thee fire and water, to stretch forth thine hand to whichever thou wilt' (Sirach xv. 14, 15, 16). Fallen and unregenerate man is under the domination of sin and of Satan, because it pleases him so to be; he is a voluntary slave through his evil lust. Thus it is that free will and will in bondage are one and the same thing. 278. 'Let no man say, I am tempted of God'; 'but every man is tempted, when he is drawn away of his own lust and enticed' (Jas. i. 13, 14). And Satan contributes thereto. He 'blindeth the minds of them which believe not' (2 Cor. iv. 4). But man is delivered up to the Devil by his covetous desire: the pleasure he finds in evil is the bait that hooks him. Plato has said so already, and Cicero repeats it: 'Plato voluptatem dicebat escam malorum.' Grace sets over against it a greater pleasure, as St. Augustine observed. All _pleasure_ is a feeling of some perfection; one _loves_ an object in proportion as one feels its perfections; nothing surpasses the divine perfections. Whence it follows that charity and love of God give the greatest pleasure that can be conceived, in that proportion in which one is penetrated by these feelings, which are not common among men, busied and taken up as men are with the objects that are concerned with their passions. 279. Now as our corruption is not altogether invincible and as we do not necessarily sin even when we are under the bondage of sin, it must likewise be said that we are not aided invincibly; and, however efficacious divine grace may be, there is justification for saying that one can resist it. But when it indeed proves victorious, it is certain and infallible beforehand that one will yield to its allurements, whether it have its strength of itself or whether it find a way to triumph through the congruity of circumstances. Thus one must always distinguish between the infallible and the necessary. 280. The system of those who call themselves Disciples of St. Augustine is not far removed from this, provided one exclude certain obnoxious things, whether in the expressions or in the dogmas themselves. In the _expressions_ I find that it is principally the use of terms like [298] 'necessary' or 'contingent', 'possible' or 'impossible', which sometimes gives a handle and causes much ado. That is why, as Herr Löscher the younger aptly observed in a learned dissertation on the _Paroxysms of the Absolute Decree_, Luther desired, in his book _On the Will in Bondage_, to find a word more fitting for that which he wished to express than the word necessity. Speaking generally, it appears more reasonable and more fitting to say that obedience to God's precepts is always _possible_, even for the unregenerate; that the grace of God is always _resistible_, even in those most holy, and that _freedom_ is exempt not only from _constraint_ but also from _necessity_, although it be never without infallible _certainty_ or without inclining _determination_. 281. Nevertheless there is on the other hand a sense wherein it would be permitted to say, in certain conjunctures, that the _power_ to do good is often lacking, even in the just; that sins are often _necessary_, even in the regenerate; that it is _impossible_ sometimes for one not to sin; that grace is _irresistible_; that freedom is not exempt from _necessity_. But these expressions are less exact and less pleasing in the circumstances that prevail about us to-day. They are also in general more open to misuse; and moreover they savour somewhat of the speech of the people, where terms are employed with great latitude. There are, however, circumstances which render them acceptable and even serviceable. It is the case that sacred and orthodox writers, and even the holy Scriptures, have made use of expressions on both sides, and no real contradiction has arisen, any more than between St. Paul and St. James, or any error on either side that might be attributable to the ambiguity of the terms. One is so well accustomed to these various ways of speaking that often one is put to it to say precisely which sense is the more ordinary and the more natural, and even that more intended by the author (_quis sensus magis naturalis, obvius, intentus_). For the same writer has different aims in different passages, and the same ways of speaking are more or less accepted or acceptable before or after the decision of some great man or of some authority that one respects and follows. As a result of this one may well authorize or ban, as opportunity arises and at certain times, certain expressions; but it makes no difference to the sense, or to the content of faith, if sufficient explanations of the terms are not added. 282. It is therefore only necessary to understand fully some distinctions, such as that I have very often urged between the necessary and the [299] certain, and between metaphysical necessity and moral necessity. It is the same with possibility and impossibility, since the event whose opposite is possible is contingent, even as that whose opposite is impossible is necessary. A distinction is rightly drawn also between a proximate potency and a remote potency; and, according to these different senses, one says now that a thing may be and now that it may not be. It may be said in a certain sense that it is necessary that the blessed should not sin; that the devils and the damned should sin; that God himself should choose the best; that man should follow the course which after all attracts him most. But this necessity is not opposed to contingency; it is not of the kind called logical, geometrical or metaphysical, whose opposite implies contradiction. M. Nicole has made use somewhere of a comparison which is not amiss. It is considered impossible that a wise and serious magistrate, who has not taken leave of his senses, should publicly commit some outrageous action, as it would be, for instance, to run about the streets naked in order to make people laugh. It is the same, in a sense, with the blessed; they are still less capable of sinning, and the necessity that forbids them to sin is of the same kind. Finally I also hold that 'will' is a term as equivocal as potency and necessity. For I have already observed that those who employ this axiom, that one does not fail to do what one wills when one can, and who thence infer that God therefore does not will the salvation of all, imply a _decretory will_. Only in that sense can one support this proposition, that wisdom never wills what it knows to be among the things that shall not happen. On the other hand, one may say, taking will in a sense more general and more in conformity with customary use, that the wise will is _inclined_ antecedently to all good, although it _decrees_ finally to do that which is most fitting. Thus one would be very wrong to deny to God the serious and strong inclination to save all men, which Holy Scripture attributes to him; or even to attribute to him an original distaste which diverts him from the salvation of a number of persons, _odium antecedaneum_. One should rather maintain that the wise mind tends towards all good, as good, in proportion to his knowledge and his power, but that he only produces the best that can be achieved. Those who admit that, and yet deny to God the antecedent will to save all men, are wrong only in their misuse of the term, provided that they acknowledge, besides, that God gives to all help sufficient to enable them to win [300] salvation if only they have the will to avail themselves thereof. 283. In the _dogmas_ themselves held by the Disciples of St. Augustine I cannot approve the damnation of unregenerate children, nor in general damnation resulting from original sin alone. Nor can I believe that God condemns those who are without the necessary light. One may believe, with many theologians, that men receive more aid than we are aware of, were it only when they are at the point of death. It does not appear necessary either that all those who are saved should always be saved through a grace efficacious of itself, independently of circumstances. Also I consider it unnecessary to say that all the virtues of the pagans were false or that all their actions were sins; though it be true that what does not spring from faith, or from the uprightness of the soul before God, is infected with sin, at least virtually. Finally I hold that God cannot act as if at random by an absolutely absolute decree, or by a will independent of reasonable motives. And I am persuaded that he is always actuated, in the dispensation of his grace, by reasons wherein the nature of the objects participates. Otherwise he would not act in accordance with wisdom. I grant nevertheless that these reasons are not of necessity bound up with the good or the less evil natural qualities of men, as if God gave his grace only according to these good qualities. Yet I hold, as I have explained already here, that these qualities are taken into consideration like all the other circumstances, since nothing can be neglected in the designs of supreme wisdom. 284. Save for these points, and some few others, where St. Augustine appears obscure or even repellent, it seems as though one can conform to his system. He states that from the substance of God only a God can proceed, and that thus the creature is derived from nothingness (Augustine _De Lib. Arb._, lib. 1, c. 2). That is what makes the creature imperfect, faulty and corruptible (_De Genesi ad Lit._, c. 15, _Contra Epistolam Manichaei_, c. 36). Evil comes not from nature, but from evil will (Augustine, in the whole book _On the Nature of Good_). God can command nothing that would be impossible. 'Firmissime creditur Deum justum et bonum impossibilia non potuisse praecipere' (_Lib. de Nat. et Grat._, c. 43, p. 69). Nemo peccat in eo, quod caveri non potest (lib. 3, _De Lib. Arb._, c. 16, 17, _lib._ 1 _Retract._ c. 11, 13, 15). Under a just God, none can be unhappy who deserves not so to be, 'neque sub Deo justo miser esse [301] quisquam, nisi mereatur, potest' (lib. 1, c. 39). Free will cannot carry out God's commands without the aid of grace (_Ep. ad Hilar. Caesaraugustan._). We know that grace is not given according to deserts (Ep. 106, 107, 120). Man in the state of innocence had the aid necessary to enable him to do good if he wished; but the wish depended on free will, 'habebat adjutorium, per quod posset, et sine quo non vellet, sed non adjutorium quo vellet' (_Lib. de Corrept._, c. 11 et c. 10, 12). God let angels and men try what they could do by their free will, and after that what his grace and his justice could achieve (ibid., c. 10, 11, 12). Sin turned man away from God, to turn him towards creatures (lib. 1, qu. 2, _Ad Simplicium_). To take pleasure in sinning is the freedom of a slave (_Enchirid._, c. 103). 'Liberum arbitrium usque adeo in peccatore non periit, ut per illud peccent maxime omnes, qui cum delectatione peccant' (lib. 1, _Ad Bonifac._, c. 2, 3). 285. God said to Moses: 'I will be gracious to whom I will be gracious, and will shew mercy on whom I will shew mercy' (Exod. xxxiii. 19). 'So then it is not of him that willeth, nor of him that runneth, but of God that sheweth mercy' (Rom. ix. 15, 16). That does not prevent all those who have good will, and who persevere therein, from being saved. But God gives them the willing and the doing. 'Therefore hath he mercy on whom he will have mercy, and whom he will he hardeneth' (Rom. ix. 18). And yet the same Apostle says that God willeth that all men should be saved, and come to the knowledge of the truth; which I would not interpret in accordance with some passages of St. Augustine, as if it signified that no men are saved except those whose salvation he wills, or as if he would save _non singulos generum, sed genera singulorum_. But I would rather say that there is none whose salvation he willeth not, in so far as this is permitted by greater reasons. For these bring it about that God only saves those who accept the faith he has offered to them and who surrender themselves thereto by the grace he has given them, in accordance with what was consistent with the plan of his works in its entirety, than which none can be better conceived. 286. As for predestination to salvation, it includes also, according to St. Augustine, the ordinance of the means that shall lead to salvation. 'Praedestinatio sanctorum nihil aliud est, quam praescientia et praeparatio beneficiorum Dei, quibus certissime liberantur quicunque liberantur' (_Lib. de Persev._, c. 14). He does not then understand it there as an [302] absolute decree; he maintains that there is a grace which is not rejected by any hardened heart, because it is given in order to remove especially the hardness of hearts (_Lib. de Praedest._, c. 8; _Lib. de Grat._, c. 13, 14). I do not find, however, that St. Augustine conveys sufficiently that this grace, which subdues the heart, is always efficacious of itself. And one might perhaps have asserted without offence to him that the same degree of inward grace is victorious in the one, where it is aided by outward circumstances, but not in the other. 287. Will is proportionate to the sense we have of the good, and follows the sense which prevails. 'Si utrumque tantundem diligimus, nihil horum dabimus. Item: Quod amplius nos delectat, secundum id operemur necesse est' (in c. 5, _Ad Gal._). I have explained already how, despite all that, we have indeed a great power over our will. St. Augustine takes it somewhat differently, and in a way that does not go far, when he says that nothing is so much within our power as the action of our will. And he gives a reason which is almost tautological: for (he says) this action is ready at the moment when we will. 'Nihil tam in nostra potestate est, quam ipsa voluntas, ea enim mox ut volumus praesto est' (lib. 3, _De Lib. Arb._, c. 3; lib. 5, _De Civ. Dei_, c. 10). But that only means that we will when we will, and not that we will that which we wish to will. There is more reason for saying with him: '_aut voluntas non est, aut libera dicenda est_' (d. 1, 3, c. 3); and that what inclines the will towards good infallibly, or certainly, does not prevent it from being free. 'Perquam absurdum est, ut ideo dicamus non pertinere ad voluntatem [libertatem] nostram, quod beati esse volumus, quia id omnino nolle non possumus, nescio qua bona constrictione naturae. Nec dicere audemus ideo Deum non voluntatem [libertatem], sed necessitatem habere justitiae, quia non potest velle peccare. Certe Deus ipse numquid quia peccare non potest, ideo liberum arbitrium habere negandus est?' (_De Nat. et Grat._, c. 46, 47, 48, 49). He also says aptly, that God gives the first good impulse, but that afterwards man acts also. 'Aguntur ut agant, non ut ipsi nihil agant' (_De Corrept._, c. 2). 288. I have proved that free will is the proximate cause of the evil of guilt, and consequently of the evil of punishment; although it is true that the original imperfection of creatures, which is already presented in the eternal ideas, is the first and most remote cause. M. Bayle [303] nevertheless always disputes this use of the notion of free will; he will not have the cause of evil ascribed to it. One must listen to his objections, but first it will be well to throw further light on the nature of freedom. I have shown that freedom, according to the definition required in the schools of theology, consists in intelligence, which involves a clear knowledge of the object of deliberation, in spontaneity, whereby we determine, and in contingency, that is, in the exclusion of logical or metaphysical necessity. Intelligence is, as it were, the soul of freedom, and the rest is as its body and foundation. The free substance is self-determining and that according to the motive of good perceived by the understanding, which inclines it without compelling it: and all the conditions of freedom are comprised in these few words. It is nevertheless well to point out that the imperfection present in our knowledge and our spontaneity, and the infallible determination that is involved in our contingency, destroy neither freedom nor contingency. 289. Our knowledge is of two kinds, distinct or confused. Distinct knowledge, or _intelligence_, occurs in the actual use of reason; but the senses supply us with confused thoughts. And we may say that we are immune from bondage in so far as we act with a distinct knowledge, but that we are the slaves of passion in so far as our perceptions are confused. In this sense we have not all the freedom of spirit that were to be desired, and we may say with St. Augustine that being subject to sin we have the freedom of a slave. Yet a slave, slave as he is, nevertheless has freedom to choose according to the state wherein he is, although more often than not he is under the stern necessity of choosing between two evils, because a superior force prevents him from attaining the goods whereto he aspires. That which in a slave is effected by bonds and constraint in us is effected by passions, whose violence is sweet, but none the less pernicious. In truth we will only that which pleases us: but unhappily what pleases us now is often a real evil, which would displease us if we had the eyes of the understanding open. Nevertheless that evil state of the slave, which is also our own, does not prevent us, any more than him, from making a free choice of that which pleases us most, in the state to which we are reduced, in proportion to our present strength and knowledge. 290. As for spontaneity, it belongs to us in so far as we have within us the source of our actions, as Aristotle rightly conceived. The [304] impressions of external things often, indeed, divert us from our path, and it was commonly believed that, at least in this respect, some of the sources of our actions were outside ourselves. I admit that one is bound to speak thus, adapting oneself to the popular mode of expression, as one may, in a certain sense, without doing violence to truth. But when it is a question of expressing oneself accurately I maintain that our spontaneity suffers no exception and that external things have no physical influence upon us, I mean in the strictly philosophical sense. 291. For better understanding of this point, one must know that true spontaneity is common to us and all simple substances, and that in the intelligent or free substance this becomes a mastery over its actions. That cannot be better explained than by the System of Pre-established Harmony, which I indeed propounded some years ago. There I pointed out that by nature every simple substance has perception, and that its individuality consists in the perpetual law which brings about the sequence of perceptions that are assigned to it, springing naturally from one another, to represent the body that is allotted to it, and through its instrumentality the entire universe, in accordance with the point of view proper to this simple substance and without its needing to receive any physical influence from the body. Even so the body also for its part adapts itself to the wishes of the soul by its own laws, and consequently only obeys it according to the promptings of these laws. Whence it follows that the soul has in itself a perfect spontaneity, so that it depends only upon God and upon itself in its actions. 292. As this system was not known formerly, other ways were sought for emerging from this labyrinth, and the Cartesians themselves were in difficulties over the subject of free will. They were no longer satisfied by the 'faculties' of the Schoolmen, and they considered that all the actions of the soul appear to be determined by what comes from without, according to the impressions of the senses, and that, ultimately, all is controlled in the universe by the providence of God. Thence arose naturally the objection that there is therefore no freedom. To that M. Descartes replied that we are assured of God's providence by reason; but that we are likewise assured of our freedom by experience thereof within ourselves; and that we must believe in both, even though we see not how it is possible to reconcile them. [305] 293. That was cutting the Gordian knot, and answering the conclusion of an argument not by refuting it but by opposing thereto a contrary argument. Which procedure does not conform to the laws for philosophical disputes. Notwithstanding, most of the Cartesians contented themselves with this, albeit the inward experience they adduce does not prove their assertion, as M. Bayle has clearly shown. M. Regis (_Philos._, vol. 1, Metaph., book 2, part 2, c. 22) thus paraphrases M. Descartes' doctrine: 'Most philosophers', he says, 'have fallen into error. Some, not being able to understand the relation existing between free actions and the providence of God, have denied that God was the first efficient cause of free will: but that is sacrilegious. The others, not being able to apprehend the relation between God's efficacy and free actions, have denied that man was endowed with freedom: and that is a blasphemy. The mean to be found between these two extremes is to say' (id. ibid., p. 485) 'that, even though we were not able to understand all the relations existing between freedom and God's providence, we should nevertheless be bound to acknowledge that we are free and dependent upon God. For both these truths are equally known, the one through experience, and the other through reason; and prudence forbids one to abandon truths whereof one is assured, under the pretext that one cannot apprehend all the relations existing between them and other truths well known.' 294. M. Bayle here remarks pertinently in the margin, 'that these expressions of M. Regis fail to point out that we are aware of relations between man's actions and God's providence, such as appear to us to be incompatible with our freedom.' He adds that these expressions are over-circumspect, weakening the statement of the problem. 'Authors assume', he says, 'that the difficulty arises solely from our lack of enlightenment; whereas they ought to say that it arises in the main from the enlightenment which we have, and cannot reconcile' (in M. Bayle's opinion) 'with our Mysteries.' That is exactly what I said at the beginning of this work, that if the Mysteries were irreconcilable with reason, and if there were unanswerable objections, far from finding the mystery incomprehensible, we should comprehend that it was false. It is true that here there is no question of a mystery, but only of natural religion. 295. This is how M. Bayle combats those inward experiences, whereon [306] the Cartesians make freedom rest: but he begins by reflexions with which I cannot agree. 'Those who do not make profound examination', he says (_Dictionary_, art. 'Helen.', lit. [Greek: TD]), 'of that which passes within them easily persuade themselves that they are free, and that, if their will prompts them to evil, it is their fault, it is through a choice whereof they are the masters. Those who judge otherwise are persons who have studied with care the springs and the circumstances of their actions, and who have thought over the progress of their soul's impulses. Those persons usually have doubts about their free will, and even come to persuade themselves that their reason and mind are slaves, without power to resist the force that carries them along where they would not go. It was principally persons of this kind who ascribed to the gods the cause of their evil deeds.' 296. These words remind me of those of Chancellor Bacon, who says that a little philosophy inclineth us away from God, but that depth in philosophy bringeth men's minds about to him. It is the same with those who reflect upon their actions: it appears to them at first that all we do is only impulsion from others, and that all we apprehend comes from without through the senses, and is traced upon the void of our mind _tanquam in tabula rasa_. But more profound meditation shows us that all (even perceptions and passions) comes to us from our own inner being, with complete spontaneity. 297. Yet M. Bayle cites poets who pretend to exonerate men by laying the blame upon the gods. Medea in Ovid speaks thus: _Frustra, Medea, repugnas,_ _Nescio quid Deus obstat, ait._ And a little later Ovid makes her add: _Sed trahit invitam nova vis, aliudque Cupido,_ _Mens aliud suadet; video meliora proboque,_ _Deteriora sequor_. But one could set against that a passage from Vergil, who makes Nisus say with far more reason: _Di ne hunc ardorem mentibus addunt,_ _Euryale, an sua cuique Deus fit dira cupido?_ 298. Herr Wittich seems to have thought that in reality our independence is only apparent. For in his _Diss. de providentia Dei actuali_ (n. 61) [307] he makes free will consist in our being inclined towards the objects that present themselves to our soul for affirmation or denial, love or hate, in such a way that we _do not feel_ we are being determined by any outward force. He adds that it is when God himself causes our volitions that we act with most freedom; and that the more efficacious and powerful God's action is upon us, the more we are masters of our actions. 'Quia enim Deus operatur ipsum velle, quo efficacius operatur, eo magis volumus; quod autem, cum volumus, facimus, id maxime habemus in nostra potestate.' It is true that when God causes a volition in us he causes a free action. But it seems to me that the question here is not of the universal cause or of that production of our will which is proper to it in so far as it is a created effect, whose positive elements are actually created continually through God's co-operation, like all other absolute reality of things. We are concerned here with the reasons for willing, and the means God uses when he gives us a good will or permits us to have an evil will. It is always we who produce it, good or evil, for it is our action: but there are always reasons that make us act, without impairing either our spontaneity or our freedom. Grace does no more than give impressions which are conducive to making will operate through fitting motives, such as would be an attention, _a dic cur hic_, a prevenient pleasure. And it is quite evident that that does not interfere with freedom, any more than could a friend who gives counsel and furnishes motives. Thus Herr Wittich has not supplied an answer to the question, any more than M. Bayle, and recourse to God is of no avail here. 299. But let me give another much more reasonable passage from the same M. Bayle, where he disputes with greater force the so-called lively sense of freedom, which according to the Cartesians is a proof of freedom. His words are indeed full of wit, and worthy of consideration, and occur in the _Reply to the Questions of a Provincial_ (vol. III, ch. 140, p. 761 _seqq._). Here they are: 'By the clear and distinct sense we have of our existence we do not discern whether we exist through ourselves or derive our being from another. We discern that only by reflexion, that is, through meditation upon our powerlessness in the matter of conserving ourselves as much as we would, and of freeing ourselves from dependence upon the beings that surround us, etc. It is indeed certain that the pagans (the same must be said of the Socinians, since they deny the creation) never attained[308] to the knowledge of that true dogma that we were created from nothing, and that we are derived from nothingness at every moment of our continuance. They therefore thought erroneously that all substances in the universe exist of themselves and can never be reduced to nothing, and that thus they depend upon no other thing save in respect of their modifications, which are liable to be destroyed by the action of an external cause. Does not this error spring from the fact that we are unconscious of the creative action which conserves us, and that we are only conscious of our existence? That we are conscious of it, I say, in such a way that we should for ever remain ignorant of the cause of our being if other knowledge did not aid us? Let us say also, that the clear and distinct sense we have of the acts of our will cannot make us discern whether we give them ourselves to ourselves or receive them from that same cause which gives us existence. We must have recourse to reflexion or to meditation in order to effect this discrimination. Now I assert that one can never by purely philosophical meditations arrive at an established certainty that we are the efficient cause of our volitions: for every person who makes due investigation will recognize clearly, that if we were only passive subjects with regard to will we should have the same sensations of experience as we have when we think that we are free. Assume, for the sake of argument, that God so ordered the laws of the union between soul and body that all the modalities of the soul, without a single exception, are of necessity linked together with the interposition of the modalities of the brain. You will then understand that nothing will happen to us except that of which we are conscious: there will be in our soul the same sequence of thoughts from the perception of objects of the senses, which is its first step, up to the most definite volitions, which are its final step. There will be in this sequence the consciousness of ideas, that of affirmations, that of irresolutions, that of velleities and that of volitions. For whether the act of willing be impressed upon us by an external cause or we bring it about ourselves, it will be equally true that we will, and that we feel that we will. Moreover, as this external cause can blend as much pleasure as it will with the volition which it impresses upon us, we shall be able to feel at times that the acts of our will please us infinitely, and that they lead us according to the bent of our strongest inclinations. We shall feel no constraint; you know the maxim: _voluntas non potest cogi_. Do[309] you not clearly understand that a weather-vane, always having communicated to it simultaneously (in such a way, however, that priority of nature or, if one will, a real momentary priority, should attach to the desire for motion) movement towards a certain point on the horizon, and the wish to turn in that direction, would be persuaded that it moved of itself to fulfil the desires which it conceived? I assume that it would not know that there were winds, or that an external cause changed everything simultaneously, both its situation and its desires. That is the state we are in by our nature: we know not whether an invisible cause makes us pass sufficiently from one thought to another. It is therefore natural that men are persuaded that they determine their own acts. But it remains to be discovered whether they are mistaken in that, as in countless other things they affirm by a kind of instinct and without having made use of philosophic meditation. Since therefore there are two hypotheses as to what takes place in man: the one that he is only a passive subject, the other that he has active virtues, one cannot in reason prefer the second to the first, so long as one can only adduce proofs of feeling. For we should feel with an equal force that we wish this or that, whether all our volitions were imprinted upon our soul by an exterior and invisible cause, or we formed them ourselves.' 300. There are here excellent arguments, which are valid against the usual systems; but they fail in respect of the System of Pre-established Harmony, which takes us further than we were able to go formerly. M. Bayle asserts, for instance, 'that by purely philosophical meditations one can never attain to an established certainty that we are the efficient cause of our volitions'. But this is a point which I do not concede to him: for the establishment of this system demonstrates beyond a doubt that in the course of nature each substance is the sole cause of all its actions, and that it is free of all physical influence from every other substance, save the customary co-operation of God. And this system shows that our spontaneity is real, and not only apparent, as Herr Wittich believed it to be. M. Bayle asserts also on the same reasons (ch. 170, p. 1132) that if there were a _fatum Astrologicum_ this would not destroy freedom; and I would concede that to him, if freedom consisted only in an apparent spontaneity. 301. The spontaneity of our actions can therefore no longer be questioned; and Aristotle has defined it well, saying that an action is [310] _spontaneous_ when its source is in him who acts. 'Spontaneum est, cujus principium est in agente.' Thus it is that our actions and our wills depend entirely upon us. It is true that we are not directly the masters of our will, although we be its cause; for we do not choose volitions, as we choose our actions by our volitions. Yet we have a certain power also over our will, because we can contribute indirectly towards willing another time that which we would fain will now, as I have here already shown: that, however, is no _velleity_, properly speaking. There also we have a mastery, individual and even perceptible, over our actions and our wills, resulting from a combination of spontaneity with intelligence. 302. Up to this point I have expounded the two conditions of freedom mentioned by Aristotle, that is, _spontaneity_ and _intelligence_, which are found united in us in deliberation, whereas beasts lack the second condition. But the Schoolmen demand yet a third, which they call _indifference_. And indeed one must admit it, if indifference signifies as much as 'contingency'; for I have already said here that freedom must exclude an absolute and metaphysical or logical necessity. But, as I have declared more than once, this indifference, this contingency, this non-necessity, if I may venture so to speak, which is a characteristic attribute of freedom, does not prevent one from having stronger inclinations towards the course one chooses; nor does it by any means require that one be absolutely and equally indifferent towards the two opposing courses. 303. I therefore admit indifference only in the one sense, implying the same as contingency, or non-necessity. But, as I have declared more than once, I do not admit an indifference of equipoise, and I do not think that one ever chooses when one is absolutely indifferent. Such a choice would be, as it were, mere chance, without determining reason, whether apparent or hidden. But such a chance, such an absolute and actual fortuity, is a chimera which never occurs in nature. All wise men are agreed that chance is only an apparent thing, like fortune: only ignorance of causes gives rise to it. But if there were such a vague indifference, or rather if we were to choose without having anything to prompt us to the choice, chance would then be something actual, resembling what, according to Epicurus, took place in that little deviation of the atoms, occurring without cause or reason. Epicurus had introduced it in order to evade necessity, and[311] Cicero with good reason ridiculed it. 304. This deviation had a final cause in the mind of Epicurus, his aim being to free us from fate; but it can have no efficient cause in the nature of things, it is one of the most impossible of chimeras. M. Bayle himself refutes it admirably, as we shall see presently. And yet it is surprising that he appears to admit elsewhere himself something of like nature with this supposed deviation: here is what he says, when speaking of Buridan's ass (_Dictionary_, art. 'Buridan', lit. 13): 'Those who advocate free will properly so called admit in man a power of determining, either to the right hand or the left, even when the motives are perfectly uniform on the side of each of the two opposing objects. For they maintain that our soul can say, without having any reason other than that of using its freedom: "I prefer this to that, although I see nothing more worthy of my choice in the one than the other".' 305. All those who admit a free will properly so called will not for that reason concede to M. Bayle this determination springing from an indeterminate cause. St. Augustine and the Thomists believe that all is determined. And one sees that their opponents resort also to the circumstances which contribute to our choice. Experience by no means approves the chimera of an indifference of equipoise; and one can employ here the argument that M. Bayle himself employed against the Cartesians' manner of proving freedom by the lively sense of our independence. For although I do not always see the reason for an inclination which makes me choose between two apparently uniform courses, there will always be some impression, however imperceptible, that determines us. The mere desire to make use of one's freedom has no effect of specifying, or determining us to the choice of one course or the other. 306. M. Bayle goes on: 'There are at the very least two ways whereby man can extricate himself from the snares of equipoise. One, which I have already mentioned, is for a man to flatter himself with the pleasing fancy that he is master in his own house, and that he does not depend upon objects.' This way is blocked: for all that one might wish to play master in one's own house, that has no determining effect, nor does it favour one course more than the other. M. Bayle goes on: 'He would make this Act: I will prefer this to that, because it pleases me to behave thus.' But [312] these words, 'because it pleases me', 'because such is my pleasure', imply already a leaning towards 'the object that pleases'. 307. There is therefore no justification for continuing thus: 'And so that which determined him would not be taken from the object; the motive would be derived only from the ideas men have of their own perfections, or of their natural faculties. The other way is that of the lot or chance: the short straw would decide.' This way has an outlet, but it does not reach the goal: it would alter the issue, for in such a case it is not man who decides. Or again if one maintains that it is still the man who decides by lot, man himself is no longer in equipoise, because the lot is not, and the man has attached himself to it. There are always reasons in Nature which cause that which happens by chance or through the lot. I am somewhat surprised that a mind so shrewd as M. Bayle's could have allowed itself to be so misled on this point. I have set out elsewhere the true rejoinder to the Buridan sophism: it is that the case of perfect equipoise is impossible, since the universe can never be halved, so as to make all impressions equivalent on both sides. 308. Let us see what M. Bayle himself says elsewhere against the chimerical or absolutely undefined indifference. Cicero had said (in his book _De Fato_) that Carneades had found something more subtle than the deviation of atoms, attributing the cause of a so-called absolutely undefined indifference to the voluntary motions of souls, because these motions have no need of an external cause, coming as they do from our nature. But M. Bayle (_Dictionary_, art. 'Epicurus', p. 1143) aptly replies that all that which springs from the nature of a thing is determined: thus determination always remains, and Carneades' evasion is of no avail. 309. He shows elsewhere (_Reply to the Questions of a Provincial_, ch. 90, l. 2, p. 229) 'that a freedom far removed from this so-called equipoise is incomparably more beneficial. I mean', he says, 'a freedom such as may always follow the judgements of the mind, and such as cannot resist objects clearly recognized as good. I know of no people who do not agree that truth clearly recognized necessitates' (determines rather, unless one speak of a moral necessity) 'the assent of the soul; experience teaches us that. In the schools they teach constantly that as the true is the object of [313] the understanding, so the good is the object of the will. So likewise they teach that as the understanding can never affirm anything save that which is shown to it under the semblance of truth, the will can never love anything which to it does not appear to be good. One never believes the false as such, and one never loves evil as evil. There is in the understanding a natural determination towards the true in general, and towards each individual truth clearly recognized. There is in the will a natural determination towards good in general; whence many philosophers conclude that from the moment when individual goods are clearly recognized by us we are of necessity compelled to love them. The understanding suspends its actions only when its objects show themselves obscurely, so that there is cause for doubt as to whether they are false or true. That leads many persons to the conclusion that the will remains in equipoise only when the soul is uncertain whether the object presented to it is a good with regard to it; but that also, the moment the soul decides in the affirmative, it of necessity clings to that object until other judgements of the mind determine it otherwise. Those who expound freedom in this fashion think to find therein plentiful enough material for merit or demerit. For they assume that these judgements of the mind proceed from a free attention of the soul in examining the objects, comparing them together, and discriminating between them. I must not forget that there are very learned men' (such as Bellarmine, lib. 3, _De Gratia et Libero Arbitrio_, c. 8, et 9, and Cameron, in _Responsione ad Epistolam Viri Docti, id est Episcopii_) 'who maintain with very cogent reasons that the will always of necessity follows the last practical act of the understanding.' 310. One must make some observations on this discourse. A very clear recognition of the best _determines_ the will; but it does not necessitate it, properly speaking. One must always distinguish between the necessary and the certain or infallible, as I have already observed more than once, and distinguish metaphysical necessity from moral necessity. I think also that it is only God's will which always follows the judgements of the understanding: all intelligent creatures are subject to some passions, or to perceptions at least, that are not composed entirely of what I call _adequate ideas_. And although in the blessed these passions always tend towards the true good, by virtue of the laws of Nature and the system of things pre-established in relation to them, yet this does not always [314] happen in such a way that they have a perfect knowledge of that good. It is the same with them as with us, who do not always understand the reason for our instincts. The angels and the blessed are created beings, even as we are, in whom there is always some confused perception mingled with distinct knowledge. Suarez said something similar concerning them. He thinks (_Treatise on Prayer_, book I, ch. 11) that God has so ordered things beforehand that their prayers, when they are made with a full will, always succeed: that is an example of a pre-established harmony. As for us, in addition to the judgement of the understanding, of which we have an express knowledge, there are mingled therewith confused perceptions of the senses, and these beget passions and even imperceptible inclinations, of which we are not always aware. These movements often thwart the judgement of the practical understanding. 311. As for the parallel between the relation of the understanding to the true and that of the will to the good, one must know that a clear and distinct perception of a truth contains within it actually the affirmation of this truth: thus the understanding is necessitated in that direction. But whatever perception one may have of the good, the effort to act in accordance with the judgement, which in my opinion forms the essence of the will, is distinct from it. Thus, since there is need of time to raise this effort to its climax, it may be suspended, and even changed, by a new perception or inclination which passes athwart it, which diverts the mind from it, and which even causes it sometimes to make a contrary judgement. Hence it comes that our soul has so many means of resisting the truth which it knows, and that the passage from mind to heart is so long. Especially is this so when the understanding to a great extent proceeds only by faint _thoughts_, which have only slight power to affect, as I have explained elsewhere. Thus the connexion between judgement and will is not so necessary as one might think. 312. M. Bayle goes on to say, with truth (p. 221): 'Indeed, it cannot be a fault in man's soul that it has no freedom of indifference as regards good in general. It would be rather a disorder, an inordinate imperfection, if one could say truthfully: It is all one to me whether I am happy or unhappy; I have no more determination to love the good than to hate it; I can do both equally. Now if it is a praiseworthy and advantageous quality to be determinate as regards good in general, it cannot be a fault if [315] one is necessitated as regards each individual good recognized plainly as for our good. It seems even as though it were a necessary conclusion, that if the soul has no freedom of indifference as regards good in general, it also has none in respect of particular goods which after due examination it judges to be goods in relation to it. What should we think of a soul which, having formed that judgement, had, and prided itself on having, the power not to love these goods, and even to hate them, and which said: I recognize clearly that these are goods for me, I have all the enlightenment necessary on that point; nevertheless I will not love them, I will hate them; my decision is made, I act upon it; it is not that any reason' (that is, any other reason than that which is founded upon 'Such is my good pleasure') 'urges me thereto, but it pleases me so to behave: what should we think, I say, of such a soul? Should we not find it more imperfect and more unhappy than if it had not this freedom of indifference? 313. 'Not only does the doctrine that subjects the will to the final acts of the understanding give a more favourable idea of the state of the soul, but it shows also that it is easier to lead man to happiness along that road than along the road of indifference. It will suffice to enlighten his mind upon his true interests, and straightway his will will comply with the judgements that reason shall have pronounced. But if he has a freedom independent of reason and of the quality of objects clearly recognized, he will be the most intractable of all animals, and it will never be possible to rely upon making him choose the right course. All the counsels, all the arguments in the world may prove unavailing; you will give him explanations, you will convince his mind, and yet his will will play the haughty madam and remain motionless as a rock. Vergil, _Aen_., lib. 6, v. 470: _Non magis incepto vultum sermone movetur,_ _Quam si dura silex, aut stet Marpesia cautes_. A caprice, an empty whim will make her stiffen against reasons of all kinds; it will not please her to love her clearly recognized good, it will please her to hate it. Do you consider such a faculty, sir, to be the richest present God can have made to man, and the sole instrument of our happiness? Is it not rather an obstacle to our felicity? Is there cause for boasting in being able to say: "I have scorned all the judgements of [316] my reason, and I have followed an altogether different path, simply from considerations of my own good pleasure?" With what regrets would one not be torn, in that case, if the determination made had an ill result? Such a freedom would therefore be more harmful than profitable to men, because the understanding would not present all the goodness of the objects clearly enough to deprive the will of the power of rejection. It would be therefore infinitely better for man to be always of necessity determined by the judgement of the understanding, than to permit the will to suspend its action. For by this means it would achieve its aim with greater ease and certainty.' 314. Upon this discourse I make the further observation, that it is very true that a freedom of indifference, undefined and without any determining reason, would be as harmful, and even objectionable, as it is impracticable and chimerical. The man who wished to behave thus, or at the least appear to be acting without due cause, would most certainly be looked upon as irrational. But it is very true also that the thing is impossible, when it is taken strictly in accordance with the assumption. As soon as one tries to give an example of it one misses one's aim and stumbles upon the case of a man who, while he does not come to a decision without cause, does so rather under the influence of inclination or passion than of judgement. As soon as one says: 'I scorn the judgements of my reason simply from considerations of my own good pleasure, it pleases me to behave thus', it is as if one were to say: I prefer my inclination to my interest, my pleasure to my profit. 315. Even so some capricious man, fancying that it is ignominious for him to follow the advice of his friends or his servants, might prefer the satisfaction of contradicting them to the profit he could derive from their counsel. It may happen, however, that in a matter of small moment a wise man acts irregularly and against his own interest in order to thwart another who tries to restrain him or direct him, or that he may disconcert those who watch his steps. It is even well at times to imitate Brutus by concealing one's wit, and even to feign madness, as David did before the King of the Philistines. 316. M. Bayle admirably supplements his remarks with the object of showing that to act against the judgement of the understanding would be a great imperfection. He observes (p. 225) that, even according to the [317] Molinists, 'the understanding which does its DUTY well indicates that which is THE BEST'. He introduces God (ch. 91, p. 227) saying to our first parents in the Garden of Eden: 'I have given you my knowledge, the faculty of judging things, and full power to dispose your wills. I shall give you instructions and orders; but the free will that I have bestowed upon you is of such a nature that you have equal power (according to circumstances) to obey me and to disobey me. You will be tempted: if you make a good use of your freedom you will be happy; and if you use it ill you will be unhappy. It is for you to see if you wish to ask of me, as a new grace, either that I permit you to abuse your freedom when you shall make resolve to do so, or that I prevent you from doing so. Consider carefully, I give you four and twenty hours. Do you not clearly understand' (adds M. Bayle) 'that their reason, which had not yet been obscured by sin, would have made them conclude that they must ask God, as the crowning point of the favours wherewith he had honoured them, not to permit them to destroy themselves by an ill use of their powers? And must one not admit that if Adam, through wrongly making it a point of honour to order his own goings, had refused a divine direction that would have safeguarded his happiness, he would have been the prototype of all such as Phaeton and Icarus? He would have been well-nigh as ungodly as the Ajax of Sophocles, who wished to conquer without the aid of the gods, and who said that the most craven would put their enemies to flight with such aid.' 317. M. Bayle also shows (ch. 80) that one congratulates oneself no less, or even takes more credit to oneself, for having been aided from above, than for owing one's happiness to one's own choice. And if one does well through having preferred a tumultuous instinct, which arose suddenly, to reasons maturely considered, one feels an extraordinary joy in this; for one assumes that either God, or our Guardian Angel, or something or other which one pictures to oneself under the vague name of _good luck_ has impelled us thereto. Indeed, Sulla and Caesar boasted more of their good luck than of their prudence. The pagans, and particularly the poets (Homer especially), determined their heroes' acts by divine promptings. The hero of the _Aeneid_ proceeds only under the direction of a God. It was very great praise offered to the Emperors if one said that they were victorious both through their troops and through their gods whom they lent to [318] their generals: 'Te copias, te consilium et tuos praebente Divos,' said Horace. The generals fought under the auspices of the Emperors, as if trusting to the Emperor's good luck, for subordinate officers had no rights regarding the auspices. One takes credit to oneself for being a favourite of heaven, one rates oneself more highly for the possession of good fortune than of talent. There are no people that think themselves more fortunate than the mystics, who imagine that they keep still while God acts within them. 318. 'On the other hand', M. Bayle adds (ch. 83), 'a Stoic philosopher, who attaches to everything an inevitable necessity, is as susceptible as another man to the pleasure of having chosen well. And every man of sense will find that, far from taking pleasure in the thought of having deliberated long and finally chosen the most honourable course, one feels incredible satisfaction in persuading oneself that one is so firmly rooted in the love of virtue that without the slightest resistance one would repel a temptation. A man to whom is suggested the doing of a deed contrary to his duty, his honour and his conscience, who answers forthwith that he is incapable of such a crime, and who is certainly not capable of it, is far more contented with himself than if he asked for time to consider it, and were for some hours in a state of indecision as to which course to take. One is on many occasions regretful over not being able to make up one's mind between two courses, and one would be well pleased that the counsel of a good friend, or some succour from above, should impel us to make a good choice.' All that demonstrates for us the advantage a determinate judgement has over that vague indifference which leaves us in uncertainty. But indeed I have proved sufficiently that only ignorance or passion has power to keep us in doubt, and have thus given the reason why God is never in doubt. The nearer one comes to him, the more perfect is freedom, and the more it is determined by the good and by reason. The character of Cato, of whom Velleius said that it was impossible for him to perform a dishonourable action, will always be preferred to that of a man who is capable of wavering. 319. I have been well pleased to present and to support these arguments of M. Bayle against vague indifference, as much for the elucidation of the subject as to confront him with himself, and to demonstrate that he ought therefore not to complain of the alleged necessity imposed upon God, [319] of choosing the best way that is possible. For either God will act through a vague indifference and at random, or again he will act on caprice or through some other passion, or finally he must act through a prevailing inclination of reason which prompts him to the best. But passions, which come from the confused perception of an apparent good, cannot occur in God; and vague indifference is something chimerical. It is therefore only the strongest reason that can regulate God's choice. It is an imperfection in our freedom that makes us capable of choosing evil instead of good, a greater evil instead of the lesser evil, the lesser good instead of the greater good. That arises from the appearances of good and evil, which deceive us; whereas God is always prompted to the true and the greatest good, that is, to the absolutely true good, which he cannot fail to know. 320. This false idea of freedom, conceived by those who, not content with exempting it, I do not say from constraint, but from necessity itself, would also exempt it from certainty and determination, that is, from reason and perfection, nevertheless pleased some Schoolmen, people who often become entangled in their own subtleties, and take the straw of terms for the grain of things. They assume some chimerical notion, whence they think to derive some use, and which they endeavour to maintain by quibblings. Complete indifference is of this nature: to concede it to the will is to grant it a privilege of the kind that some Cartesians and some mystics find in the divine nature, of being able to do the impossible, to produce absurdities, to cause two contradictory propositions to be true simultaneously. To claim that a determination comes from a complete indifference absolutely indeterminate is to claim that it comes naturally from nothing. Let it be assumed that God does not give this determination: it has accordingly no fountainhead in the soul, nor in the body, nor in circumstances, since all is assumed to be indeterminate; and yet there it is, appearing and existing without preparation, nothing making ready for it, no angel, not even God himself, being able to see or to show how it exists. That would be not only the emergence of something from nothing, but its emergence thence _of itself_. This doctrine introduces something as preposterous as the theory already mentioned, of the deviation of atoms, whereby Epicurus asserted that one of these small bodies, going in a straight line, would turn aside all at once from its path, without any[320] reason, simply because the will so commands. Take note moreover that he resorted to that only to justify this alleged freedom of complete indifference, a chimerical notion which appears to be of very ancient origin; and one may with good reason say: _Chimaera Chimaeram parit_. 321. This is the way Signor Marchetti has expressed it in his admirable translation of Lucretius into Italian verse, which has not yet been published (Book 2): _Mà ch'i principii poi non corran punto_ _Della lor dritta via, chi veder puote?_ _Sì finalmente ogni lor moto sempre_ _Insieme s'aggruppa, e dall' antico_ _Sempre con ordin certo il nuovo nasce;_ _Ne tracciando i primi semi, fanno_ _Di moto un tal principio, il qual poi rompa_ _I decreti del fato, acciò non segua_ _L'una causa dell' altra in infinito;_ _Onde han questa, dich' io_, del fato sciolta Libera voluntà, _per cui ciascuno_ _Va dove più l'agrada? I moti ancora_ _Si declinan sovente, e non in tempo_ _Certo, ne certa region, mà solo_ _Quando e dove commanda il nostro arbitrio;_ _Poiche senz' alcun dubbio à queste cose_ _Dà sol principio il voler proprio, e quindi_ _Van poi scorrendo per le membra i moti._ It is comical that a man like Epicurus, after having discarded the gods and all incorporeal substances, could have supposed that the will, which he himself takes as composed of atoms, could have had control over the atoms, and diverted them from their path, without its being possible for one to say how. 322. Carneades, not going so far back as to the atoms, claimed to find at once in the soul of man the reason for the so-called vague indifference, assuming as reason for the thing just that for which Epicurus sought a reason. Carneades gained nothing thereby, except that he more easily deceived careless people, in transferring the absurdity from one subject, where it is somewhat too evident, to another subject where it is easier to confuse matters, that is to say, from the body to the soul. For most philosophers had not very distinct notions of the nature of the soul. [321] Epicurus, who composed it of atoms, was at least right in seeking the origin of its determination in that which he believed to be the origin of the soul itself. That is why Cicero and M. Bayle were wrong to find so much fault with him, and to be indulgent towards, and even praise, Carneades, who is no less irrational. I do not understand how M. Bayle, who was so clear-sighted, was thus satisfied by a disguised absurdity, even to the extent of calling it the greatest effort the human mind can make on this matter. It is as if the soul, which is the seat of reason, were more capable than the body of acting without being determined by some reason or cause, internal or external; or as if the great principle which states that nothing comes to pass without cause only related to the body. 323. It is true that the Form or the Soul has this advantage over matter, that it is the source of action, having within itself the principle of motion or of change, in a word, [Greek: to autokinêton], as Plato calls it; whereas matter is simply passive, and has need of being impelled to act, _agitur, ut agat_. But if the soul is active of itself (as it indeed is), for that very reason it is not of itself absolutely indifferent to the action, like matter, and it must find in itself a ground of determination. According to the System of Pre-established Harmony the soul finds in itself, and in its ideal nature anterior to existence, the reasons for its determinations, adjusted to all that shall surround it. That way it was determined from all eternity in its state of mere possibility to act freely, as it does, when it attains to existence. 324. M. Bayle himself remarks aptly that freedom of indifference (such as must be admitted) does not exclude inclinations and does not demand equipoise. He demonstrates amply enough (_Reply to the Questions of a Provincial_, ch. 139, p. 748 _seqq_.) that the soul may be compared to a balance, where reasons and inclinations take the place of weights. According to him, one can explain what passes in our resolutions by the hypothesis that the will of man is like a balance which is at rest when the weights of its two pans are equal, and which always inclines either to one side or the other according to which of the pans is the more heavily laden. A new reason makes a heavier weight, a new idea shines more brightly than the old; the fear of a heavy penalty prevails over some pleasure; when two passions dispute the ground, it is always the stronger which gains the mastery, unless the other be assisted by reason or by some other [322] contributing passion. When one flings away merchandise in order to save oneself, the action, which the Schoolmen call mixed, is voluntary and free; and yet love of life indubitably prevails over love of possessions. Grief arises from remembrance of lost possessions, and one has all the greater difficulty in making one's resolve, the nearer the approach to even weight in the opposing reasons, as also we see that the balance is determined more promptly when there is a great difference between the weights. 325. Nevertheless, as very often there are divers courses to choose from, one might, instead of the balance, compare the soul with a force which puts forth effort on various sides simultaneously, but which acts only at the spot where action is easiest or there is least resistance. For instance, air if it is compressed too firmly in a glass vessel will break it in order to escape. It puts forth effort at every part, but finally flings itself upon the weakest. Thus do the inclinations of the soul extend over all the goods that present themselves: they are antecedent acts of will; but the consequent will, which is their result, is determined in the direction of that which touches most closely. 326. This ascendancy of inclinations, however, does not prevent man from being master in his own domain, provided that he knows how to make use of his power. His dominion is that of reason: he has only to prepare himself in good time to resist the passions, and he will be capable of checking the vehemence of the most furious. Let us assume that Augustus, about to give orders for putting to death Fabius Maximus, acts, as is his wont, upon the advice a philosopher had given him, to recite the Greek alphabet before doing anything in the first heat of his anger: this reflexion will be capable of saving the life of Fabius and the glory of Augustus. But without some fortunate reflexion, which one owes sometimes to a special divine mercy, or without some skill acquired beforehand, like that of Augustus, calculated to make us reflect fittingly as to time and place, passion will prevail over reason. The driver is master over the horses if he controls them as he should, and as he can; but there are occasions when he becomes negligent, and then for a time he will have to let go the reins: _Fertur equis auriga, nec audit currus habenas_. 327. One must admit that there is always within us enough power over [323] our will, but we do not always bethink ourselves of employing it. That shows, as I have observed more than once, that the power of the soul over its inclinations is a control which can only be exercised in an _indirect_ manner, almost as Bellarmine would have had the Popes exercise rights over the temporal power of kings. In truth, the external actions that do not exceed our powers depend absolutely upon our will; but our volitions depend upon our will only through certain artful twists which give us means of suspending our resolutions, or of changing them. We are masters in our own house, not as God is in the world, he having but to speak, but as a wise prince is in his dominions or as a good father of a family is in his home. M. Bayle sometimes takes the matter differently, as though we must have, in order to boast of a free will, an absolute power over ourselves, independent of reasons and of means. But even God has not such a power, and must not have in this sense, in relation to his will: he cannot change his nature, nor act otherwise than according to method; and how could man transform himself all of a sudden? I have already said God's dominion, the dominion of wisdom, is that of reason. It is only God, however, who always wills what is most to be desired, and consequently he has no need of the power to change his will. 328. If the soul is mistress in its own house (says M. Bayle, p. 753) it has only to will, and straightway that vexation and pain which is attendant upon victory over the passions will vanish away. For this effect it would suffice, in his opinion, to give oneself indifference to the objects of the passions (p. 758). Why, then, do men not give themselves this indifference (he says), if they are masters in their own house? But this objection is exactly as if I were to ask why a father of a family does not give himself gold when he has need thereof? He can acquire some, but through skill, and not, as in the age of the fairies, or of King Midas, through a mere command of the will or by his touch. It would not suffice to be master in one's own house; one must be master of all things in order to give oneself all that one wishes; for one does not find everything in one's own house. Working thus upon oneself, one must do as in working upon something else; one must have knowledge of the constitution and the qualities of one's object, and adapt one's operations thereto. It is therefore not in a moment and by a mere act of the will that one corrects oneself, and that one acquires a better will. [324] 329. Nevertheless it is well to observe that the vexations and pains attendant upon victory over the passions in some people turn into pleasure, through the great satisfaction they find in the lively sense of the force of their mind, and of the divine grace. Ascetics and true mystics can speak of this from experience; and even a true philosopher can say something thereof. One can attain to that happy state, and it is one of the principal means the soul can use to strengthen its dominion. 330. If the Scotists and the Molinists appear to favour vague indifference (appear, I say, for I doubt whether they do so in reality, once they have learnt to know it), the Thomists and the disciples of Augustine are for predetermination. For one must have either the one or the other. Thomas Aquinas is a writer who is accustomed to reason on sound principles, and the subtle Scotus, seeking to contradict him, often obscures matters instead of throwing light upon them. The Thomists as a general rule follow their master, and do not admit that the soul makes its resolve without the existence of some predetermination which contributes thereto. But the predetermination of the new Thomists is not perhaps exactly that which one needs. Durand de Saint-Pourçain, who often enough formed a party of his own, and who opposed the idea of the special co-operation of God, was nevertheless in favour of a certain predetermination. He believed that God saw in the state of the soul, and of its surroundings, the reason for his determinations. 331. The ancient Stoics were in that almost of the same opinion as the Thomists. They were at the same time in favour of determination and against necessity, although they have been accused of attaching necessity to everything. Cicero says in his book _De Fato_ that Democritus, Heraclitus, Empedocles and Aristotle believed that fate implied necessity; that others were opposed to that (he means perhaps Epicurus and the Academicians); and that Chrysippus sought a middle course. I think that Cicero is mistaken as regards Aristotle, who fully recognized contingency and freedom, and went even too far, saying (inadvertently, as I think) that propositions on contingent futurities had no determinate truth; on which point he was justifiably abandoned by most of the Schoolmen. Even Cleanthes, the teacher of Chrysippus, although he upheld the determinate truth of future events, denied their necessity. Had the Schoolmen, so fully convinced of this [325] determination of contingent futurities (as were for instance the Fathers of Coimbra, authors of a famous Course of Philosophy), seen the connexion between things in the form wherein the System of General Harmony proclaims it, they would have judged that one cannot admit preliminary certainty, or determination of futurition, without admitting a predetermination of the thing in its causes and in its reasons. 332. Cicero has endeavoured to expound for us the middle course taken by Chrysippus; but Justus Lipsius observed, in his _Stoic Philosophy_, that the passage from Cicero was mutilated, and that Aulus Gellius has preserved for us the whole argument of the Stoic philosopher (_Noct. Att._, lib. 6, c. 2). Here it is in epitome. Fate is the inevitable and eternal connexion of all events. Against this is urged in objection, that it follows that the acts of the will would be necessary, and that criminals, being coerced into evil, should not be punished. Chrysippus answers that evil springs from the original constitution of souls, which forms part of the destined sequence; that souls which are of a good natural disposition offer stronger resistance to the impressions of external causes; but that those whose natural defects had not been corrected by discipline allowed themselves to be perverted. Next he distinguishes (according to Cicero) between principal causes and accessary causes, and uses the comparison of a cylinder, whose rotatory force and speed or ease in motion comes chiefly from its shape, whereas it would be retarded by any roughness in formation. Nevertheless it has need of impulsion, even as the soul needs to be acted upon by the objects of the senses, and receives this impression according to its own constitution. 333. Cicero considers that Chrysippus becomes so confused that, whether he will or no, he confirms the necessity of fate. M. Bayle is almost of the same opinion (_Dictionary_, art. 'Chrysippus', lit. H). He says that this philosopher does not get out of the bog, since the cylinder is regular or uneven according to what the craftsman has made it; and thus God, providence, fate will be the causes of evil in such a way as to render it necessary. Justus Lipsius answers that, according to the Stoics, evil came from matter. That is (to my mind) as if he had said that the stone on which the craftsman worked was sometimes too rough and too irregular to produce a good cylinder. M. Bayle cites against Chrysippus the fragments of Onomaus and Diogenianus that Eusebius has preserved for us in the _Praeparatio[326] Evangelica_ (lib. 6, c. 7, 8); and above all he relies upon Plutarch's refutation in his book against the Stoics, quoted art. 'Paulicians', lit. G. But this refutation does not amount to very much. Plutarch maintains that it would be better to deny power to God than to impute to him the permission of evils; and he will not admit that evil may serve a greater good. I have already shown, on the contrary, that God cannot but be all-powerful, even though he can do no better than produce the best, which includes the permission of evil. Moreover, I have pointed out repeatedly that what is to the disadvantage of a part taken separately may serve the perfection of the whole. 334. Chrysippus had already made an observation to this effect, not only in his fourth book on Providence, as given by Aulus Gellius (lib. 6, c. 1) where he asserts that evil serves to bring the good to notice (a reason which is not sufficient here), but still better when he applies the comparison of a stage play, in his second book on Nature (as Plutarch quotes it himself). There he says that there are sometimes portions in a comedy which are of no worth in themselves and which nevertheless lend grace to the whole poem. He calls these portions epigrams or inscriptions. We have not enough acquaintance with the nature of the ancient comedy for full understanding of this passage from Chrysippus; but since Plutarch assents to the fact, there is reason to believe that this comparison was not a poor one. Plutarch replies in the first place that the world is not like a play to provide entertainment. But that is a poor answer: the comparison lies in this point alone, that one bad part may make the whole better. He replies secondly that this bad passage is only a small part of the comedy, whereas human life swarms with evils. This reply is of no value either: for he ought to have taken into account that what we know is also a very small part of the universe. 335. But let us return to the cylinder of Chrysippus. He is right in saying that vice springs from the original constitution of some minds. He was met with the objection that God formed them, and he could only reply by pointing to the imperfection of matter, which did not permit God to do better. This reply is of no value, for matter in itself is indifferent to all forms, and God made it. Evil springs rather from the _Forms_ themselves in their detached state, that is, from the ideas that God has not produced by an act of his will, any more than he thus produced numbers and [327] figures, and all possible essences which one must regard as eternal and necessary; for they are in the ideal region of the possibles, that is, in the divine understanding. God is therefore not the author of essences in so far as they are only possibilities. But there is nothing actual to which he has not decreed and given existence; and he has permitted evil because it is involved in the best plan existing in the region of possibles, a plan which supreme wisdom could not fail to choose. This notion satisfies at once the wisdom, the power and the goodness of God, and yet leaves a way open for the entrance of evil. God gives perfection to creatures in so far as it is possible in the universe. One gives a turn to the cylinder, but any roughness in its shape restricts the swiftness of its motion. This comparison made by Chrysippus does not greatly differ from mine, which was taken from a laden boat that is carried along by the river current, its pace becoming slower as the load grows heavier. These comparisons tend towards the same end; and that shows that if we were sufficiently informed concerning the opinions of ancient philosophers, we should find therein more reason than is supposed. 336. M. Bayle himself commends the passage from Chrysippus (art. 'Chrysippus', lit. T) that Aulus Gellius quotes in the same place, where this philosopher maintains that evil has come _by concomitance._ That also is made clear by my system. For I have demonstrated that the evil which God permitted was not an object of his will, as an end or a means, but simply as a condition, since it had to be involved in the best. Yet one must confess that the cylinder of Chrysippus does not answer the objection of necessity. He ought to have added, in the first place, that it is by the free choice of God that some of the possibles exist; secondly, that rational creatures act freely also, in accordance with their original nature, which existed already in the eternal ideas; and lastly, that the motive power of good inclines the will without compelling it. 337. The advantage of freedom which is in the creature without doubt exists to an eminent degree in God. That must be understood in so far as it is genuinely an advantage and in so far as it presupposes no imperfection. For to be able to make a mistake and go astray is a disadvantage, and to have control over the passions is in truth an advantage, but one that presupposes an imperfection, namely passion itself, of which God is [328] incapable. Scotus was justified in saying that if God were not free and exempt from necessity, no creature would be so. But God is incapable of being indeterminate in anything whatsoever: he cannot be ignorant, he cannot doubt, he cannot suspend his judgement; his will is always decided, and it can only be decided by the best. God can never have a primitive particular will, that is, independent of laws or general acts of will; such a thing would be unreasonable. He cannot determine upon Adam, Peter, Judas or any individual without the existence of a reason for this determination; and this reason leads of necessity to some general enunciation. The wise mind always acts _according to principles_; always _according to rules_, and never _according to exceptions_, save when the rules come into collision through opposing tendencies, where the strongest carries the day: or else, either they will stop one another or some third course will emerge as a result. In all these cases one rule serves as an exception to the other, and there are never any _original exceptions_ with one who always acts in a regular way. 338. If there are people who believe that election and reprobation are accomplished on God's part by a despotic absolute power, not only without any apparent reason but actually without any reason, even a concealed one, they maintain an opinion that destroys alike the nature of things and the divine perfections. Such an _absolutely absolute decree_ (so to speak) would be without doubt insupportable. But Luther and Calvin were far from such a belief: the former hopes that the life to come will make us comprehend the just reasons of God's choice; and the latter protests explicitly that these reasons are just and holy, although they be unknown to us. I have already in that connexion quoted Calvin's treatise on predestination, and here are the actual words: 'God before the fall of Adam had reflected upon what he had to do, and that for causes concealed from us.... It is evident therefore that he had just causes for the reprobation of some of mankind, but causes to us UNKNOWN.' 339. This truth, that all God does is reasonable and cannot be better done, strikes at the outset every man of good sense, and extorts, so to speak, his approbation. And yet the most subtle of philosophers have a fatal propensity for offending sometimes without observing it, during the course and in the heat of disputes, against the first principles of good sense, when these are shrouded in terms that disguise them. We have here [329] already seen how the excellent M. Bayle, with all his shrewdness, has nevertheless combated this principle which I have just indicated, and which is a sure consequence of the supreme perfection of God. He thought to defend in that way the cause of God and to exempt him from an imaginary necessity, by leaving him the freedom to choose from among various goods the least. I have already spoken of M. Diroys and others who have also been deluded by this strange opinion, one that is far too commonly accepted. Those who uphold it do not observe that it implies a wish to preserve for, or rather bestow upon, God a false freedom, which is the freedom to act unreasonably. That is rendering his works subject to correction, and making it impossible for us to say or even to hope that anything reasonable can be said upon the permission of evil. 340. This error has much impaired M. Bayle's arguments, and has barred his way of escape from many perplexities. That appears again in relation to the laws of the realm of Nature: he believes them to be arbitrary and indifferent, and he objects that God could better have attained his end in the realm of grace if he had not clung to these laws, if he had more often dispensed with their observance, or even if he had made others. He believed this especially with regard to the law of the union between the soul and the body. For he is persuaded, with the modern Cartesians, that the ideas of the perceptible qualities that God gives (according to them) to the soul, occasioned by movements of the body, have nothing representing these movements or resembling them. Accordingly it was a purely arbitrary act on God's part to give us the ideas of heat, cold, light and other qualities which we experience, rather than to give us quite different ideas occasioned in the same way. I have often wondered that people so talented should have been capable of relishing notions so unphilosophic and so contrary to the fundamental maxims of reason. For nothing gives clearer indication of the imperfection of a philosophy than the necessity experienced by the philosopher to confess that something comes to pass, in accordance with his system, for which there is no reason. That applies to the idea of Epicurus on the deviation of atoms. Whether it be God or Nature that operates, the operation will always have its reasons. In the operations of Nature, these reasons will depend either upon necessary truths or upon the laws that God has found the most reasonable; and in the operations of God, they will depend upon the choice of the supreme [330] reason which causes them to act. 341. M. Regis, a famous Cartesian, had asserted in his 'Metaphysics' (part 2, book 2, c. 29) that the faculties God has given to men are the most excellent that they were capable of in conformity with the general order of nature. 'Considering only', he says, 'the power of God and the nature of man by themselves, it is very easy to conceive that God could have made man more perfect: but if one will consider man, not in himself and separately from all other creatures, but as a member of the universe and a portion which is subject to the general laws of motions, one will be bound to acknowledge that man is as perfect as he could have been.' He adds 'that we cannot conceive that God could have employed any other means more appropriate than pain for the conservation of our bodies'. M. Regis is right in a general way in saying that God cannot do better than he has done in relation to all. And although there be apparently in some places in the universe rational animals more perfect than man, one may say that God was right to create every kind of species, some more perfect than others. It is perhaps not impossible that there be somewhere a species of animals much resembling man and more perfect than we are. It may be even that the human race will attain in time to a greater perfection than that which we can now envisage. Thus the laws of motions do not prevent man from being more perfect: but the place God has assigned to man in space and in time limits the perfections he was able to receive. 342. I also doubt, with M. Bayle, whether pain be necessary in order to warn men of peril. But this writer goes too far (_Reply to the Questions of a Provincial_, vol. II, ch. 77, p. 104): he seems to think that a feeling of pleasure could have the same effect, and that, in order to prevent a child from going too near the fire, God could give him ideas of pleasure in proportion to the distance he kept from it. This expedient does not appear very practicable with regard to all evils, unless a miracle were involved. It is more natural that what if it were too near would cause an evil should cause some foreboding of evil when it is a little less near. Yet I admit that it is possible such a foreboding will be something less than pain, and usually this is the case. Thus it indeed appears that pain is not necessary for causing one to shun present peril; it is wont rather to serve as a penalty for having actually plunged into evil, and a warning against [331] further lapse. There are also many painful evils the avoidance whereof rests not with us. As a dissolution of the continuity of our body is a consequence of many accidents that may happen to us, it was natural that this imperfection of the body should be represented by some sense of imperfection in the soul. Nevertheless I would not guarantee that there were no animals in the universe whose structure was cunning enough to cause a sense of indifference as accompaniment to this dissolution of continuity, as for instance when a gangrenous limb is cut off; or even a sense of pleasure, as if one were only scratching oneself. For the imperfection that attends the dissolution of the body might lead to the sense of a greater perfection, which was suspended or checked by the continuity which is now broken: and in this respect the body would be as it were a prison. 343. There is also nothing to preclude the existence in the universe of animals resembling that one which Cyrano de Bergerac encountered in the sun. The body of this animal being a sort of fluid composed of innumerable small animals, that were capable of ranging themselves in accordance with the desires of the great animal, by this means it transformed itself in a moment, just as it pleased; and the dissolution of continuity caused it no more hurt than the stroke of an oar can cause to the sea. But, after all, these animals are not men, they are not in our globe or in our present century; and God's plan ensured that there should not be lacking here on earth a rational animal clothed in flesh and bones, whose structure involves susceptibility to pain. 344. But M. Bayle further opposes this on another principle, one which I have already mentioned. It seems that he thinks the ideas which the soul conceives in relation to the feelings of the body are arbitrary. Thus God might have caused the dissolution of continuity to give us pleasure. He even maintains that the laws of motion are entirely arbitrary. 'I would wish to know', he says (vol. III, ch. 166, p. 1080), 'whether God established by an act of his freedom of indifference general laws on the communication of movements, and the particular laws on the union of the human soul with an organic body? In this case, he could have established quite different laws, and adopted a system whose results involved neither moral evil nor physical evil. But if the answer is given that God was constrained by supreme wisdom to establish the laws that he has established, there we have neither more nor less than the _Fatum_ of [332] the Stoics. Wisdom will have marked out a way for God, the abandonment whereof will have been as impossible to him as his own self-destruction.' This objection has been sufficiently overthrown: it is only a moral necessity; and it is always a happy necessity to be bound to act in accordance with the rules of perfect wisdom. 345. Moreover, it appears to me that the reason for the belief held by many that the laws of motion are arbitrary comes from the fact that few people have properly examined them. It is known now that M. Descartes was much mistaken in his statement of them. I have proved conclusively that conservation of the same quantity of motion cannot occur, but I consider that the same quantity of force is conserved, whether absolute or directive and respective, whether total or partial. My principles, which carry this subject as far as it can go, have not yet been published in full; but I have communicated them to friends competent to judge of them, who have approved them, and have converted some other persons of acknowledged erudition and ability. I discovered at the same time that the laws of motion actually existing in Nature, and confirmed by experiments, are not in reality absolutely demonstrable, as a geometrical proposition would be; but neither is it necessary that they be so. They do not spring entirely from the principle of necessity, but rather from the principle of perfection and order; they are an effect of the choice and the wisdom of God. I can demonstrate these laws in divers ways, but must always assume something that is not of an absolutely geometrical necessity. Thus these admirable laws are wonderful evidence of an intelligent and free being, as opposed to the system of absolute and brute necessity, advocated by Strato or Spinoza. 346. I have found that one may account for these laws by assuming that the effect is always equal in force to its cause, or, which amounts to the same thing, that the same force is conserved always: but this axiom of higher philosophy cannot be demonstrated geometrically. One may again apply other principles of like nature, for instance the principle that action is always equal to reaction, one which assumes in things a distaste for external change, and cannot be derived either from extension or impenetrability; and that other principle, that a simple movement has the same properties as those which might belong to a compound movement such as would produce [333] the same phenomena of locomotion. These assumptions are very plausible, and are successful as an explanation of the laws of motion: nothing is so appropriate, all the more since they are in accord with each other. But there is to be found in them no absolute necessity, such as may compel us to admit them, in the way one is compelled to admit the rules of logic, of arithmetic and geometry. 347. It seems, when one considers the indifference of matter to motion and to rest, that the largest body at rest could be carried along without any resistance by the smallest body in motion, in which case there would be action without reaction and an effect greater than its cause. There is also no necessity to say of the motion of a ball which runs freely on an even, horizontal plane, with a certain degree of speed, termed A, that this motion must have the properties of that motion which it would have if it were going with lesser speed in a boat, itself moving in the same direction with the residue of the speed, to ensure that the ball, seen from the bank, advance with the same degree A. For, although the same appearance of speed and of direction results through this medium of the boat, it is not because it is the same thing. Nevertheless it happens that the effects of the collision of the balls in the boat, the motion in each one separately combined with that of the boat giving the appearance of that which goes on outside the boat, also give the appearance of the effects that these same balls colliding would have outside the boat. All that is admirable, but one does not see its absolute necessity. A movement on the two sides of the right-angled triangle composes a movement on the hypotenuse; but it does not follow that a ball moving on the hypotenuse must produce the effect of two balls of its own size moving on the two sides: yet that is true. Nothing is so appropriate as this result, and God has chosen the laws that produce it: but one sees no geometrical necessity therein. Yet it is this very lack of necessity which enhances the beauty of the laws that God has chosen, wherein divers admirable axioms exist in conjunction, and it is impossible for one to say which of them is the primary. 348. I have also shown that therein is observed that excellent law of continuity, which I have perhaps been the first to state, and which is a kind of touchstone whose test the rules of M. Descartes, of Father Fabry, Father Pardies, Father de Malebranche and others cannot pass. In virtue of this law, one must be able to regard rest as a movement vanishing [334] after having continually diminished, and likewise equality as an inequality that vanishes also, as would happen through the continual diminution of the greater of two unequal bodies, while the smaller retains its size. As a consequence of this consideration, the general rule for unequal bodies, or bodies in motion, must apply also to equal bodies or to bodies one of which is at rest, as to a particular case of the rule. This does result in the true laws of motion, and does not result in certain laws invented by M. Descartes and by some other men of talent, which already on that score alone prove to be ill-concerted, so that one may predict that experiment will not favour them. 349. These considerations make it plain that the laws of Nature regulating movements are neither entirely necessary nor entirely arbitrary. The middle course to be taken is that they are a choice of the most perfect wisdom. And this great example of the laws of motion shows with the utmost clarity how much difference there is between these three cases, to wit, firstly _an absolute necessity_, metaphysical or geometrical, which may be called blind, and which does not depend upon any but efficient causes; in the second place, _a moral necessity_, which comes from the free choice of wisdom in relation to final causes; and finally in the third place, _something absolutely arbitrary_, depending upon an indifference of equipoise, which is imagined, but which cannot exist, where there is no sufficient reason either in the efficient or in the final cause. Consequently one must conclude how mistaken it is to confuse either that which is absolutely necessary with that which is determined by the reason of the best, or the freedom that is determined by reason with a vague indifference. 350. This also settles M. Bayle's difficulty, for he fears that, if God is always determinate, Nature could dispense with him and bring about that same effect which is attributed to him, through the necessity of the order of things. That would be true if the laws of motion for instance, and all the rest, had their source in a geometrical necessity of efficient causes; but in the last analysis one is obliged to resort to something depending upon final causes and upon what is fitting. This also utterly destroys the most plausible reasoning of the Naturalists. Dr. Johann Joachim Becher, a German physician, well known for his books on chemistry, had composed a prayer which looked like getting him into trouble. It began: 'O sancta[335] mater natura, aeterne rerum ordo'. And it ended by saying that this Nature must forgive him his errors, since she herself was their cause. But the nature of things, if taken as without intelligence and without choice, has in it nothing sufficiently determinant. Herr Becher did not sufficiently take into account that the Author of things (_natura naturans_) must be good and wise, and that we can be evil without complicity on his part in our acts of wickedness. When a wicked man exists, God must have found in the region of possibles the idea of such a man forming part of that sequence of things, the choice of which was demanded by the greatest perfection of the universe, and in which errors and sins are not only punished but even repaired to greater advantage, so that they contribute to the greatest good. 351. M. Bayle, however, has extended the free choice of God a little too far. Speaking of the Peripatetic Strato (_Reply to the Questions of a Provincial_, vol. III, ch. 180, p. 1239), who asserted that everything had been brought forth by the necessity of a nature devoid of intelligence, he maintains that this philosopher, on being asked why a tree has not the power to form bones and veins, might have asked in his turn: Why has matter precisely three dimensions? why should not two have sufficed for it? why has it not four? 'If one had answered that there can be neither more nor less than three dimensions he would have demanded the cause of this impossibility.' These words lead one to believe that M. Bayle suspected that the number of the dimensions of matter depended upon God's choice, even as it depended upon him to cause or not to cause trees to produce animals. Indeed, how do we know whether there are not planetary globes or earths situated in some more remote place in the universe where the fable of the Barnacle-geese of Scotland (birds that were said to be born of trees) proves true, and even whether there are not countries where one could say: _... populos umbrosa creavit_ _Fraxinus, et foeta viridis puer excidit alno?_ But with the dimensions of matter it is not thus: the ternary number is determined for it not by the reason of the best, but by a geometrical necessity, because the geometricians have been able to prove that there are only three straight lines perpendicular to one another which can intersect at one and the same point. Nothing more appropriate could have been [336] chosen to show the difference there is between the moral necessity that accounts for the choice of wisdom and the brute necessity of Strato and the adherents of Spinoza, who deny to God understanding and will, than a consideration of the difference existing between the reason for the laws of motion and the reason for the ternary number of the dimensions: for the first lies in the choice of the best and the second in a geometrical and blind necessity. 352. Having spoken of the laws of bodies, that is, of the rules of motion, let us come to the laws of the union between body and soul, where M. Bayle believes that he finds again some vague indifference, something absolutely arbitrary. Here is the way he speaks of it in his _Reply_ (vol. II, ch. 84, p. 163): 'It is a puzzling question whether bodies have some natural property of doing harm or good to man's soul. If one answers yes, one plunges into an insane labyrinth: for, as man's soul is an immaterial substance, one will be bound to say that the local movement of certain bodies is an efficient cause of the thoughts in a mind, a statement contrary to the most obvious notions that philosophy imparts to us. If one answers no, one will be constrained to admit that the influence of our organs upon our thoughts depends neither upon the internal qualities of matter, nor upon the laws of motion, but upon an _arbitrary institution_ of the creator. One must then admit that it depended altogether upon God's freedom to combine particular thoughts of our soul with particular modifications of our body, even when he had once established all the laws for the action of bodies one upon another. Whence it results that there is in the universe no portion of matter which by its proximity can harm us, save when God wills it; and consequently, that the earth is as capable as any other place of being the abode of the happy man.... In short it is evident that there is no need, in order to prevent the wrong choices of freedom, to transport man outside the earth. God could do on earth with regard to all the acts of the will what he does in respect of the good works of the predestined when he settles their outcome, whether by efficacious or by sufficient grace: and that grace, without in any way impairing freedom, is always followed by the assent of the soul. It would be as easy for him on earth as in heaven to bring about the determination of our souls to a good choice.' 353. I agree with M. Bayle that God could have so ordered bodies and [337] souls on this globe of earth, whether by ways of nature or by extraordinary graces, that it would have been a perpetual paradise and a foretaste of the celestial state of the blessed. There is no reason why there should not be worlds happier than ours; but God had good reasons for willing that ours should be such as it is. Nevertheless, in order to prove that a better state would have been possible here, M. Bayle had no need to resort to the system of occasional causes: it abounds in miracles and in hypotheses for which their very originators confess there is no justification; and these are two defects such as will most of all estrange a system from true philosophy. It is a cause for surprise, in the first place, that M. Bayle did not bethink himself of the System of Pre-established Harmony which he had examined before, and which for this matter was so opportune. But as in this system all is connected and harmonious, all following from reasons and nothing being left incomplete or exposed to the rash discretion of perfect indifference, it seems that it was not pleasing to M. Bayle: for he was here somewhat biassed in favour of such indifference, which, notwithstanding, he contested so strongly on other occasions. He was much given to passing from one extreme to the other, not with an ill intention or against his own conviction, but because there was as yet nothing settled in his mind on the question concerned. He contented himself with whatever suited him for frustrating the opponent he had in mind, his aim being only to perplex philosophers, and show the weakness of our reason; and never, in my opinion, did either Arcesilaus or Carneades argue for and against with more eloquence and more wit. But, after all, one must not doubt for the sake of doubting: doubts must serve us as a gangway to the truth. That is what I often said to the late Abbé Foucher, a few specimens of whose work prove that he designed to do with regard to the Academicians what Lipsius and Scioppius had done for the Stoics, and M. Gassendi for Epicurus, and what M. Dacier has so well begun for Plato. It must not be possible for us to offer true philosophers such a reproach as that implied in the celebrated Casaubon's answer to those who, in showing him the hall of the Sorbonne, told him that debate had been carried on there for some centuries. What conclusions have been reached? he said to them. 354. M. Bayle goes on (p. 166): 'It is true that since the laws of motion were instituted in such forms as we see now in the world, it is an inevitable necessity that a hammer striking a nut should break it, and[338] that a stone falling on a man's foot should cause some bruise or some derangement of its parts. But that is all that can follow the action of this stone upon the human body. If you want it in addition to cause a feeling of pain, then one must assume the institution of a code other than that one which regulates the action and reaction of bodies one upon another; one must, I say, have recourse to the particular system of the laws of union between the soul and certain bodies. Now as this system is not of necessity connected with the other, the indifference of God does not cease in relation to the one immediately upon his choice of the other. He therefore combined these two systems with a complete freedom, like two things which did not follow naturally the one from the other. Thus it is by an arbitrary institution he has ordained that wounds in the body should cause pain in the soul which is united to this body. It therefore only rested with him to have chosen another system of union between soul and body: he was therefore able to choose one in accordance wherewith wounds only evoke the idea of the remedy and an intense but agreeable desire to apply it. He was able to arrange that all bodies which were on the point of breaking a man's head or piercing his heart should evoke a lively sense of danger, and that this sense should cause the body to remove itself promptly out of reach of the blow. All that would have come to pass without miracles, since there would have been general laws on this subject. The system which we know by experience teaches us that the determination of the movement of certain bodies changes in pursuance of our desires. It was therefore possible for a combination to be effected between our desires and the movement of certain bodies, whereby the nutritive juices were so modified that the good arrangement of our organs was never affected.' 355. It is evident that M. Bayle believes that everything accomplished through general laws is accomplished without miracles. But I have shown sufficiently that if the law is not founded on reasons and does not serve to explain the event through the nature of things, it can only be put into execution by a miracle. If, for example, God had ordained that bodies must have a circular motion, he would have needed perpetual miracles, or the ministry of angels, to put this order into execution: for that is contrary to the nature of motion, whereby the body naturally abandons the circular line to continue in the tangent straight line if nothing holds it [339] back. Therefore it is not enough for God to ordain simply that a wound should excite an agreeable sensation: natural means must be found for that purpose. The real means whereby God causes the soul to be conscious of what happens in the body have their origin in the nature of the soul, which represents the bodies, and is so made beforehand that the representations which are to spring up one from another within it, by a natural sequence of thoughts, correspond to the changes in the body. 356. The representation has a natural relation to that which is to be represented. If God should have the round shape of a body represented by the idea of a square, that would be an unsuitable representation: for there would be angles or projections in the representation, while all would be even and smooth in the original. The representation often suppresses something in the objects when it is imperfect; but it can add nothing: that would render it, not more than perfect, but false. Moreover, the suppression is never complete in our perceptions, and there is in the representation, confused as it is, more than we see there. Thus there is reason for supposing that the ideas of heat, cold, colours, etc., also only represent the small movements carried out in the organs, when one is conscious of these qualities, although the multiplicity and the diminutive character of these movements prevents their clear representation. Almost in the same way it happens that we do not distinguish the blue and the yellow which play their part in the representation as well as in the composition of the green, when the microscope shows that what appears to be green is composed of yellow and blue parts. 357. It is true that the same thing may be represented in different ways; but there must always be an exact relation between the representation and the thing, and consequently between the different representations of one and the same thing. The projections in perspective of the conic sections of the circle show that one and the same circle may be represented by an ellipse, a parabola and a hyperbola, and even by another circle, a straight line and a point. Nothing appears so different nor so dissimilar as these figures; and yet there is an exact relation between each point and every other point. Thus one must allow that each soul represents the universe to itself according to its point of view, and through a relation which is peculiar to it; but a perfect harmony always subsists therein. God, if he wished to effect representation of the dissolution of continuity of [340] the body by an agreeable sensation in the soul, would not have neglected to ensure that this very dissolution should serve some perfection in the body, by giving it some new relief, as when one is freed of some burden or loosed from some bond. But organic bodies of such kinds, although possible, do not exist upon our globe, which doubtless lacks innumerable inventions that God may have put to use elsewhere. Nevertheless it is enough that, due allowance being made for the place our world holds in the universe, nothing can be done for it better than what God does. He makes the best possible use of the laws of nature which he has established and (as M. Regis also acknowledged in the same passage) 'the laws that God has established in nature are the most excellent it is possible to conceive'. 358. I will add to that the remark from the _Journal des Savants_ of the 16th March 1705, which M. Bayle has inserted in chapter 162 of the _Reply to the Questions of a Provincial_ (vol. III, p. 1030). The matter in question is the extract from a very ingenious modern book on the Origin of Evil, to which I have already referred here. It is stated: 'that the general solution in respect of physical evil which this book gives is that the universe must be regarded as a work composed of various pieces which form a whole; that, according to the laws established in nature, some parts cannot be better unless others become worse, whence would result a system less perfect as a whole. This principle', the writer goes on, 'is good; but if nothing is added to it, it does not appear sufficient. Why has God established laws that give rise to so many difficulties? philosophers who are somewhat precise will say. Could he not have established others of a kind not subject to any defects? And to cut the matter short, how comes it that he has prescribed laws for himself? Why does he not act without general laws, in accordance with all his power and all his goodness? The writer has not carried the difficulty as far as that. By disentangling his ideas one might indeed possibly find means of solving the difficulty, but there is no development of the subject in his work.' 359. I suppose that the gifted author of this extract, when he thought the difficulty could be solved, had in mind something akin to my principles on this matter. If he had vouchsafed to declare himself in this passage, he would to all appearance have replied, like M. Regis, that the laws God established were the most excellent that could be established. He would have acknowledged, at the same time, that God could not have refrained[341] from establishing laws and following rules, because laws and rules are what makes order and beauty; that to act without rules would be to act without reason; and that because God _called into action all his goodness_ the exercise of his omnipotence was consistent with the laws of wisdom, to secure as much good as was possible of attainment. Finally, he would have said, the existence of certain particular disadvantages which strike us is a sure indication that the best plan did not permit of their avoidance, and that they assist in the achievement of the total good, an argument wherewith M. Bayle in more than one place expresses agreement. 360. Now that I have proved sufficiently that everything comes to pass according to determinate reasons, there cannot be any more difficulty over these principles of God's foreknowledge. Although these determinations do not compel, they cannot but be certain, and they foreshadow what shall happen. It is true that God sees all at once the whole sequence of this universe, when he chooses it, and that thus he has no need of the connexion of effects and causes in order to foresee these effects. But since his wisdom causes him to choose a sequence in perfect connexion, he cannot but see one part of the sequence in the other. It is one of the rules of my system of general harmony, _that the present is big with the future_, and that he who sees all sees in that which is that which shall be. What is more, I have proved conclusively that God sees in each portion of the universe the whole universe, owing to the perfect connexion of things. He is infinitely more discerning than Pythagoras, who judged the height of Hercules by the size of his footprint. There must therefore be no doubt that effects follow their causes determinately, in spite of contingency and even of freedom, which nevertheless exist together with certainty or determination. 361. Durand de Saint-Pourçain, among others, has indicated this clearly in saying that contingent futurities are seen determinately in their causes, and that God, who knows all, seeing all that shall have power to tempt or repel the will, will see therein the course it shall take. I could cite many other authors who have said the same thing, and reason does not allow the possibility of thinking otherwise. M. Jacquelot implies also (_Conformity of Faith with Reason_, p. 318 _et seqq._), as M. Bayle observes (_Reply to the Questions of a Provincial_, vol. III, ch. 142, p. 796), that the dispositions of the human heart and those of circumstances acquaint God unerringly with the choice that man shall make. M. Bayle [342] adds that some Molinists say the same, and refers us to those who are quoted in the _Suavis Concordia_ of Pierre de S. Joseph, the Feuillant (pp. 579, 580). 362. Those who have confused this determination with necessity have fabricated monsters in order to fight them. To avoid a reasonable thing which they had disguised under a hideous shape, they have fallen into great absurdities. For fear of being obliged to admit an imaginary necessity, or at least one different from that in question, they have admitted something which happens without the existence of any cause or reason for it. This amounts to the same as the absurd deviation of atoms, which according to Epicurus happened without any cause. Cicero, in his book on Divination, saw clearly that if the cause could produce an effect towards which it was entirely indifferent there would be a true chance, a genuine luck, an actual fortuitous case, that is, one which would be so not merely in relation to us and our ignorance, according to which one may say: _Sed Te_ _Nos facimus, Fortuna, Deam, caeloque locamus,_ but even in relation to God and to the nature of things. Consequently it would be impossible to foresee events by judging of the future by the past. He adds fittingly in the same passage: 'Qui potest provideri, quicquam futurum esse, quod neque causam habet ullam, neque notam cur futurum sit?' and soon after: 'Nihil est tam contrarium rationi et constantiae, quam fortuna; ut mihi ne in Deum quidem cadere videatur, ut sciat quid casu et fortuito futurum sit. Si enim scit, certe illud eveniet: sin certe eveniet, nulla fortuna est.' If the future is certain, there is no such thing as luck. But he wrongly adds: 'Est autum fortuna; rerum igitur fortuitarum nulla praesensio est.' There is luck, therefore future events cannot be foreseen. He ought rather to have concluded that, events being predetermined and foreseen, there is no luck. But he was then speaking against the Stoics, in the character of an Academician. 363. The Stoics already derived from the decrees of God the prevision of events. For, as Cicero says in the same book: 'Sequitur porro nihil Deos ignorare, quod omnia ab iis sint constituta.' And, according to my system, God, having seen the possible world that he desired to create, foresaw[343] everything therein. Thus one may say that the _divine knowledge of vision differs from the knowledge of simple intelligence_ only in that it adds to the latter the acquaintance with the actual decree to choose this sequence of things which simple intelligence had already presented, but only as possible; and this decree now makes the present universe. 364. Thus the Socinians cannot be excused for denying to God the certain knowledge of future events, and above all of the future resolves of a free creature. For even though they had supposed that there is a freedom of complete indifference, so that the will can choose without cause, and that thus this effect could not be seen in its cause (which is a great absurdity), they ought always to take into account that God was able to foresee this event in the idea of the possible world that he resolved to create. But the idea which they have of God is unworthy of the Author of things, and is not commensurate with the skill and wit which the writers of this party often display in certain particular discussions. The author of the _Reflexion on the Picture of Socinianism_ was not altogether mistaken in saying that the God of the Socinians would be ignorant and powerless, like the God of Epicurus, every day confounded by events and living from one day to the next, if he only knows by conjecture what the will of men is to be. 365. The whole difficulty here has therefore only come from a wrong idea of contingency and of freedom, which was thought to have need of a complete indifference or equipoise, an imaginary thing, of which neither a notion nor an example exists, nor ever can exist. Apparently M. Descartes had been imbued with the idea in his youth, at the College of la Flèche. That caused him to say (part I of his _Principles_, art. 41): 'Our thought is finite, and the knowledge and omnipotence of God, whereby he has not only known from all eternity everything that is, or that can be, but also has willed it, is infinite. Thus we have enough intelligence to recognize clearly and distinctly that this power and this knowledge are in God; but we have not enough so to comprehend their extent that we can know how they leave the actions of men entirely free and indeterminate.' The continuation has already been quoted above. 'Entirely free', that is right; but one spoils everything by adding 'entirely indeterminate'. One has no need of infinite knowledge in order to see that the foreknowledge and the providence of God allow freedom to our actions, since God has foreseen those actions in [344] his ideas, just as they are, that is, free. Laurentius Valla indeed, in his _Dialogue against Boethius_ (which I will presently quote in epitome) ably undertakes to reconcile freedom with foreknowledge, but does not venture to hope that he can reconcile it with providence. Yet there is no more difficulty in the one than the other, because the decree to give existence to this action no more changes its nature than does one's mere consciousness thereof. But there is no knowledge, however infinite it be, which can reconcile the knowledge and providence of God with actions of an indeterminate cause, that is to say, with a chimerical and impossible being. The actions of the will are determined in two ways, by the foreknowledge or providence of God, and also by the dispositions of the particular immediate cause, which lie in the inclinations of the soul. M. Descartes followed the Thomists on this point; but he wrote with his usual circumspection, so as not to come into conflict with some other theologians. 366. M. Bayle relates (_Reply to the Questions of a Provincial_, vol. III, ch. 142, p. 804) that Father Gibieuf of the Oratory published a Latin treatise on the freedom of God and of the creature, in the year 1639; that he was met with protests, and was shown a collection of seventy contradictions taken from the first book of his work; and that, twenty years after, Father Annat, Confessor to the King of France, reproached him in his book _De Incoacta Libertate_ (ed. Rome, 1654, in 4to.), for the silence he still maintained. Who would not think (adds M. Bayle), after the uproar of the _de Auxiliis_ Congregations, that the Thomists taught things touching the nature of free will which were entirely opposed to the opinion of the Jesuits? When, however, one considers the passages that Father Annat quoted from the works of the Thomists (in a pamphlet entitled: _Jansenius a Thomistis, gratiae per se ipsam efficacis defensoribus, condemnatus_, printed in Paris in the year 1654 in 4to.) one can in reality only see verbal controversies between the two sects. The grace efficacious of itself, according to the one side, leaves to free will quite as much power of resistance as the congruent grace of the others. M. Bayle thinks one can say almost as much of Jansenius himself. He was (so he says) an able man, of a methodical mind and of great assiduity. He worked for twenty-two years at his _Augustinus_. One of his aims was to refute the Jesuits on the dogma of free will; yet no decision has yet been reached as to whether he rejects or adopts freedom of indifference. From his work innumerable passages [345] are quoted for and against this opinion, as Father Annat has himself shown in the work that has just been mentioned, _De Incoacta Libertate_. So easy is it to render this subject obscure, as M. Bayle says at the conclusion of this discourse. As for Father Gibieuf, it must be admitted that he often alters the meaning of his terms, and that consequently he does not answer the question in the main, albeit he often writes with good sense. 367. Indeed, confusion springs, more often than not, from ambiguity in terms, and from one's failure to take trouble over gaining clear ideas about them. That gives rise to these eternal, and usually mistaken, contentions on necessity and contingency, on the possible and the impossible. But provided that it is understood that necessity and possibility, taken metaphysically and strictly, depend solely upon this question, whether the object in itself or that which is opposed to it implies contradiction or not; and that one takes into account that contingency is consistent with the inclinations, or reasons which contribute towards causing determination by the will; provided also that one knows how to distinguish clearly between necessity and determination or certainty, between metaphysical necessity, which admits of no choice, presenting only one single object as possible, and moral necessity, which constrains the wisest to choose the best; finally, provided that one is rid of the chimera of complete indifference, which can only be found in the books of philosophers, and on paper (for they cannot even conceive the notion in their heads, or prove its reality by an example in things) one will easily escape from a labyrinth whose unhappy Daedalus was the human mind. That labyrinth has caused infinite confusion, as much with the ancients as with those of later times, even so far as to lead men into the absurd error of the Lazy Sophism, which closely resembles fate after the Turkish fashion. I do not wonder if in reality the Thomists and the Jesuits, and even the Molinists and the Jansenists, agree together on this matter more than is supposed. A Thomist and even a wise Jansenist will content himself with certain determination, without going on to necessity: and if someone goes so far, the error mayhap will lie only in the word. A wise Molinist will be content with an indifference opposed to necessity, but such as shall not exclude prevalent inclinations. 368. These difficulties, however, have greatly impressed M. Bayle, who[346] was more inclined to dwell on them than to solve them, although he might perhaps have had better success than anyone if he had thought fit to turn his mind in that direction. Here is what he says of them in his _Dictionary_, art. 'Jansenius', lit. G, p. 1626: 'Someone has said that the subject of Grace is an ocean which has neither shore nor bottom. Perhaps he would have spoken more correctly if he had compared it to the Strait of Messina, where one is always in danger of striking one reef while endeavouring to avoid another. _Dextrum Scylla latus, laevum implacata Charybdis_ _Obsidet._ Everything comes back in the end to this: Did Adam sin freely? If you answer yes, then you will be told, his fall was not foreseen. If you answer no, then you will be told, he is not guilty. You may write a hundred volumes against the one or the other of these conclusions, and yet you will confess, either that the infallible prevision of a contingent event is a mystery impossible to conceive, or that the way in which a creature which acts without freedom sins nevertheless is altogether incomprehensible.' 369. Either I am greatly mistaken or these two alleged incomprehensibilities are ended altogether by my solutions. Would to God it were as easy to answer the question how to cure fevers, and how to avoid the perils of two chronic sicknesses that may originate, the one from not curing the fever, the other from curing it wrongly. When one asserts that a free event cannot be foreseen, one is confusing freedom with indetermination, or with indifference that is complete and in equipoise; and when one maintains that the lack of freedom would prevent man from being guilty, one means a freedom exempt, not from determination or from certainty, but from necessity and from constraint. This shows that the dilemma is not well expressed, and that there is a wide passage between the two perilous reefs. One will reply, therefore, that Adam sinned freely, and that God saw him sinning in the possible state of Adam, which became actual in accordance with the decree of the divine permission. It is true that Adam was determined to sin in consequence of certain prevailing inclinations: but this determination destroys neither contingency nor freedom. Moreover, the certain determination to sin which exists in man does not deprive him of the power to avoid sinning (speaking generally) or, since he does sin, prevent him from being guilty and deserving [347] punishment. This is more especially so since the punishment may be of service to him or others, to contribute towards determining them another time not to sin. There is besides punitive justice, which goes beyond compensation and amendment, and wherein also there is nothing liable to be shaken by the certain determination of the contingent resolutions of the will. It may be said, on the contrary, that the penalties and rewards would be to some extent unavailing, and would fail in one of their aims, that of amendment, if they could not contribute towards determining the will to do better another time. 370. M. Bayle continues: 'Where freedom is concerned there are only two courses to take: one is to say that all the causes distinct from the soul, and co-operating with it, leave it the power to act or not to act; the other is to say that they so determine it to act that it cannot forbear to do so. The first course is that taken by the Molinists, the other is that of the Thomists and Jansenists and the Protestants of the Geneva Confession. Yet the Thomists have clamorously maintained that they were not Jansenists; and the latter have maintained with equal warmth that where freedom was concerned they were not Calvinists. On the other hand, the Molinists have maintained that St. Augustine did not teach Jansenism. Thus the one side not wishing to admit that they were in conformity with people who were considered heretics, and the other side not wishing to admit that they were in opposition to a learned saint whose opinions were always considered orthodox, have both performed a hundred feats of contortion, etc.' 371. The two courses which M. Bayle distinguishes here do not exclude a third course, according to which the determination of the soul does not come solely from the co-operation of all the causes distinct from the soul, but also from the state of the soul itself and its inclinations which mingle with the impressions of the senses, strengthening or weakening them. Now all the internal and external causes taken together bring it about that the soul is determined certainly, but not of necessity: for no contradiction would be implied if the soul were to be determined differently, it being possible for the will to be inclined, but not possible for it to be compelled by necessity. I will not venture upon a discussion of the difference existing between the Jansenists and the Reformed on this matter. They are not perhaps always fully in accord [348] with themselves as regards things, or as regards expressions, on a matter where one often loses one's way in bewildering subtleties. Father Theophile Raynaud, in his book entitled _Calvinismus Religio Bestiarum_, wished to strike at the Dominicans, without naming them. On the other hand, those who professed to be followers of St. Augustine reproached the Molinists with Pelagianism or at the least semi-Pelagianism. Things were carried to excess at times by both sides, whether in their defence of a vague indifference and the granting of too much to man, or in their teaching _determinationem ad unum secundum qualitatem actus licet non quoad ejus substantiam_, that is to say, a determination to evil in the non-regenerate, as if they did nothing but sin. After all, I think one must not reproach any but the adherents of Hobbes and Spinoza with destroying freedom and contingency; for they think that that which happens is alone possible, and must happen by a brute geometrical necessity. Hobbes made everything material and subjected it to mathematical laws alone; Spinoza also divested God of intelligence and choice, leaving him a blind power, whence all emanates of necessity. The theologians of the two Protestant parties are equally zealous in refuting an unendurable necessity. Although those who follow the Synod of Dordrecht teach sometimes that it suffices for freedom to be exempt from constraint, it seems that the necessity they leave in it is only hypothetical, or rather that which is more appropriately termed certainty and infallibility. Thus it results that very often the difficulties only lie in the terms. I say as much with regard to the Jansenists, although I do not wish to make excuse for those people in everything. 372. With the Hebrew Cabalists, _Malcuth_ or the Kingdom, the last of the Sephiroth, signified that God controls everything irresistibly, but gently and without violence, so that man thinks he is following his own will while he carries out God's. They said that Adam's sin had been _truncatio Malcuth a caeteris plantis_, that is to say, that Adam had cut back the last of the Sephiroth, by making a dominion for himself within God's dominion, and by assuming for himself a freedom independent of God, but that his fall had taught him that he could not subsist of himself, and that men must needs be redeemed by the Messiah. This doctrine may receive a good interpretation. But Spinoza, who was versed in the Cabala of the writers of his race, and who says (_Tractatus Politicus_, c. 2, n. 6) that men, conceiving of freedom as they do, establish a dominion within God's dominion, has [349] gone too far. The dominion of God is with Spinoza nothing but the dominion of necessity, and of a blind necessity (as with Strato), whereby everything emanates from the divine nature, while no choice is left to God, and man's choice does not exempt him from necessity. He adds that men, in order to establish what is termed _Imperium in Imperio_, supposed that their soul was a direct creation of God, something which could not be produced by natural causes, furthermore that it had an absolute power of determination, a state of things contrary to experience. Spinoza is right in opposing an absolute power of determination, that is, one without any grounds; it does not belong even to God. But he is wrong in thinking that a soul, that a simple substance, can be produced naturally. It seems, indeed, that the soul to him was only a transient modification; and when he pretends to make it lasting, and even perpetual, he substitutes for it the idea of the body, which is purely a notion and not a real and actual thing. 373. The story M. Bayle relates of Johan Bredenburg, a citizen of Rotterdam (_Dictionary_, art. 'Spinoza', lit. H, p. 2774) is curious. He published a book against Spinoza, entitled: _Enervatio Tractatus Theologico-politici, una cum demonstratione geometrico ordine disposita, Naturam non esse Deum, cujus effati contrario praedictus Tractatus unice innititur_. One was surprised to see that a man who did not follow the profession of letters, and who had but slight education (having written his book in Flemish, and had it translated into Latin), had been able to penetrate with such subtlety all the principles of Spinoza, and succeed in overthrowing them, after having reduced them by a candid analysis to a state wherein they could appear in their full force. I have been told (adds M. Bayle) that this writer after copious reflexion upon his answer, and upon the principle of his opponent, finally found that this principle could be reduced to the form of a demonstration. He undertook therefore to prove that there is no cause of all things other than a nature which exists necessarily, and which acts according to an immutable, inevitable and irrevocable necessity. He examined the whole system of the geometricians, and after having constructed his demonstration he scrutinized it from every imaginable angle, he endeavoured to find its weak spot and was never able to discover any means of destroying it, or even of weakening it. That caused him real distress: he groaned over it and begged the most talented of his [350] friends to help him in searching out the defects of this demonstration. For all that, he was not well pleased that copies of the book were made. Franz Cuper, a Socinian (who had written _Arcana Atheismi Revelata_ against Spinoza, Rotterdam, 1676, in 4to.), having obtained a copy, published it just as it was, that is, in Flemish, with some reflexions, and accused the author of being an atheist. The accused made his defence in the same tongue. Orobio, a very able Jewish physician (that one who was refuted by M. Limbourg, and who replied, so I have heard say, in a work posthumously circulated, but unpublished), brought out a book opposing Bredenburg's demonstration, entitled: _Certamen Philosophicum Propugnatae Veritatis Divinae ac Naturalis, adversus J.B. principia, Amsterdam_, 1684. M. Aubert de Versé also wrote in opposition to him the same year under the name of Latinus Serbattus Sartensis. Bredenburg protested that he was convinced of free will and of religion, and that he wished he might be shown a possibility of refuting his own demonstration. 374. I would desire to see this alleged demonstration, and to know whether it tended to prove that primitive Nature, which produces all, acts without choice and without knowledge. In this case, I admit that his proof was Spinozistic and dangerous. But if he meant perhaps that the divine nature is determined toward that which it produces, by its choice and through the motive of the best, there was no need for him to grieve about this so-called immutable, inevitable, irrevocable necessity. It is only moral, it is a happy necessity; and instead of destroying religion it shows divine perfection to the best advantage. 375. I take this opportunity to add that M. Bayle quotes (p. 2773) the opinion of those who believe that the book entitled _Lucii Antistii Constantis de Jure Ecclesiasticorum Liber Singularis_, published in 1665, is by Spinoza. But I have reason for doubting this, despite that M. Colerus, who has passed on to me an account he wrote of the life of that famous Jew, is also of that opinion. The initial letters L.A.C. lead me to believe that the author of this book was M. de la Cour or Van den Hoof, famous for works on the _Interest of Holland, Political Equipoise_, and numerous other books that he published (some of them under the signature V.D.H.) attacking the power of the Governor of Holland, which was at that time considered a danger to the Republic; for the memory of Prince William the Second's attempt upon the city of Amsterdam was still quite fresh.[351] Most of the ecclesiastics of Holland were on the side of this prince's son, who was then a minor, and they suspected M. de Witt and what was called the Lowenstein faction of favouring the Arminians, the Cartesians, and other sects that were feared still more, endeavouring to rouse the populace against them, and not without success, as the event proved. It was thus very natural that M. de la Cour should publish this book. It is true that people seldom keep to the happy mean in works published to further party interests. I will say in passing that a French version of the _Interest of Holland_ by M. de la Cour has just been published, under the deceptive title of _Mémoires de M. le Grand-Pensionnaire de Witt_; as if the thoughts of a private individual, who was, to be sure, of de Witt's party, and a man of talent, but who had not enough acquaintance with public affairs or enough ability to write as that great Minister of State might have written, could pass for the production of one of the first men of his time. 376. I saw M. de la Cour as well as Spinoza on my return from France by way of England and Holland, and I learnt from them a few good anecdotes on the affairs of that time. M. Bayle says, p. 2770, that Spinoza studied Latin under a physician named Franz van den Ende. He tells at the same time, on the authority of Sebastian Kortholt (who refers to it in the preface to the second edition of the book by his late father, _De Tribus Impostoribus, Herberto L. B. de Cherbury, Hobbio et Spinoza_) that a girl instructed Spinoza in Latin, and that she afterwards married M. Kerkering, who was her pupil at the same time as Spinoza. In connexion with that I note that this young lady was a daughter of M. van den Ende, and that she assisted her father in the work of teaching. Van den Ende, who was also called A. Finibus, later went to Paris, and there kept a boarding-school in the Faubourg St. Antoine. He was considered excellent as an instructor, and he told me, when I called upon him there, that he would wager that his audiences would always pay attention to his words. He had with him as well at that time a young girl who also spoke Latin, and worked upon geometrical demonstrations. He had insinuated himself into M. Arnauld's good graces, and the Jesuits began to be jealous of his reputation. But he disappeared shortly afterwards, having been mixed up in the Chevalier de Rohan's conspiracy. 377. I think I have sufficiently proved that neither the foreknowledge nor the providence of God can impair either his justice or his goodness, [352] or our freedom. There remains only the difficulty arising from God's co-operation with the actions of the creature, which seems to concern more closely both his goodness, in relation to our evil actions, and our freedom, in relation to good actions as well as to others. M. Bayle has brought out this also with his usual acuteness. I will endeavour to throw light upon the difficulties he puts forward, and then I shall be in a position to conclude this work. I have already proved that the co-operation of God consists in giving us continually all that is real in us and in our actions, in so far as it involves perfection; but that all that is limited and imperfect therein is a consequence of the previous limitations which are originally in the creature. Since, moreover, every action of the creature is a change of its modifications, it is obvious that action arises in the creature in relation to the limitations or negations which it has within itself, and which are diversified by this change. 378. I have already pointed out more than once in this work that evil is a consequence of privation, and I think that I have explained that intelligibly enough. St. Augustine has already put forward this idea, and St. Basil said something of the same kind in his _Hexaëmeron_, Homil. 2, 'that vice is not a living and animate substance, but an affection of the soul contrary to virtue, which arises from one's abandoning the good; and there is therefore no need to look for an original evil'. M. Bayle, quoting this passage in his _Dictionary_ (art. 'Paulicians', lit. D, p. 2325) commends a remark by Herr Pfanner (whom he calls a German theologian, but he is a jurist by profession, Counsellor to the Dukes of Saxony), who censures St. Basil for not being willing to admit that God is the author of physical evil. Doubtless God is its author, when the moral evil is assumed to be already in existence; but speaking generally, one might assert that God permitted physical evil by implication, in permitting moral evil which is its source. It appears that the Stoics knew also how slender is the entity of evil. These words of Epictetus are an indication: 'Sicut aberrandi causa meta non ponitur, sic nec natura mali in mundo existit.' 379. There was therefore no need to have recourse to a principle of evil, as St. Basil aptly observes. Nor is it necessary either to seek the origin of evil in matter. Those who believed that there was a chaos before God laid his hand upon it sought therein the source of disorder. It was an opinion which Plato introduced into his _Timaeus_. Aristotle found fault with him for that (in his third book on Heaven, ch. 2) because, [353] according to this doctrine, disorder would be original and natural, and order would have been introduced against nature. This Anaxagoras avoided by making matter remain at rest until it was stirred by God; and Aristotle in the same passage commends him for it. According to Plutarch (_De Iside et Osiride_, and _Tr. de Animae Procreatione ex Timaeo_) Plato recognized in matter a certain maleficent soul or force, rebellious against God: it was an actual blemish, an obstacle to God's plans. The Stoics also believed that matter was the source of defects, as Justus Lipsius showed in the first book of the Physiology of the Stoics. 380. Aristotle was right in rejecting chaos: but it is not always easy to disentangle the conceptions of Plato, and such a task would be still less easy in respect of some ancient authors whose works are lost. Kepler, one of the most excellent of modern mathematicians, recognized a species of imperfection in matter, even when there is no irregular motion: he calls it its 'natural inertia', which gives it a resistance to motion, whereby a greater mass receives less speed from one and the same force. There is soundness in this observation, and I have used it to advantage in this work, in order to have a comparison such as should illustrate how the original imperfection of the creatures sets bounds to the action of the Creator, which tends towards good. But as matter is itself of God's creation, it only furnishes a comparison and an example, and cannot be the very source of evil and of imperfection. I have already shown that this source lies in the forms or ideas of the possibles, for it must be eternal, and matter is not so. Now since God made all positive reality that is not eternal, he would have made the source of evil, if that did not rather lie in the possibility of things or forms, that which alone God did not make, since he is not the author of his own understanding. 381. Yet even though the source of evil lies in the possible forms, anterior to the acts of God's will, it is nevertheless true that God co-operates in evil in the actual performance of introducing these forms into matter: and this is what causes the difficulty in question here. Durand de Saint-Pourçain, Cardinal Aureolus, Nicolas Taurel, Father Louis de Dole, M. Bernier and some others, speaking of this co-operation, would have it only general, for fear of impairing the freedom of man and the holiness of God. They seem to maintain that God, having given to creatures the power to act, contents himself with conserving this power. On the [354] other hand, M. Bayle, according to some modern writers, carries the cooperation of God too far: he seems to fear lest the creature be not sufficiently dependent upon God. He goes so far as to deny action to creatures; he does not even acknowledge any real distinction between accident and substance. 382. He places great reliance especially on that doctrine accepted of the Schoolmen, that conservation is a continued creation. The conclusion to be drawn from this doctrine would seem to be that the creature never exists, that it is ever newborn and ever dying, like time, movement and other transient beings. Plato believed this of material and tangible things, saying that they are in a perpetual flux, _semper fluunt, nunquam sunt_. But of immaterial substances he judged quite differently, regarding them alone as real: nor was he in that altogether mistaken. Yet continued creation applies to all creatures without distinction. Sundry good philosophers have been opposed to this dogma, and M. Bayle tells that David de Rodon, a philosopher renowned among those of the French who have adhered to Geneva, deliberately refuted it. The Arminians also do not approve of it; they are not much in favour of these metaphysical subtleties. I will say nothing of the Socinians, who relish them even less. 383. For a proper enquiry as to _whether conservation is a continued creation,_ it would be necessary to consider the reasons whereon this dogma is founded. The Cartesians, after the example of their master, employ in order to prove it a principle which is not conclusive enough. They say that 'the moments of time having no necessary connexion with one another, it does not follow that because I am at this moment I shall exist at the moment which shall follow, if the same cause which gives me being for this moment does not also give it to me for the instant following.' The author of the _Reflexion on the Picture of Socinianism_ has made use of this argument, and M. Bayle (perhaps the author of this same _Reflexion_) quotes it (_Reply to the Questions of a Provincial_, vol. III, ch. 141, p. 771). One may answer that in fact it does not follow _of necessity_ that, because I am, I shall be; but this follows _naturally_, nevertheless, that is, of itself, _per se_, if nothing prevents it. It is the distinction that can be drawn between the essential and the natural. For the same movement endures naturally unless some new cause prevents it or changes it, because the reason which makes it cease at this instant, if it is no new reason, [355] would have already made it cease sooner. 384. The late Herr Erhard Weigel, a celebrated mathematician and philosopher at Jena, well known for his _Analysis Euclidea_, his mathematical philosophy, some neat mechanical inventions, and finally the trouble he took to induce the Protestant princes of the Empire to undertake the last reform of the Almanac, whose success, notwithstanding, he did not witness; Herr Weigel, I say, communicated to his friends a certain demonstration of the existence of God, which indeed amounted to this idea of continued creation. As he was wont to draw parallels between reckoning and reasoning--witness his Arithmetical Ethics (_rechenschaftliche Sittenlehre_)--he said that the foundation of the demonstration was this beginning of the Pythagorean Table, _once one is one_. These repeated unities were the moments of the existence of things, each one of them depending upon God, who resuscitates, as it were, all things outside himself at each moment: falling away as they do at each moment, they must ever have one who shall resuscitate them, and that cannot be any other than God. But there would be need of a more exact proof if that is to be called a demonstration. It would be necessary to prove that the creature always emerges from nothingness and relapses thither forthwith. In particular it must be shown that the privilege of enduring more than a moment by its nature belongs to the necessary being alone. The difficulties on the composition of the _continuum_ enter also into this matter. This dogma appears to resolve time into moments, whereas others regard moments and points as mere modalities of the _continuum_, that is, as extremities of the parts that can be assigned to it, and not as constituent parts. But this is not the place for entering into that labyrinth. 385. What can be said for certain on the present subject is that the creature depends continually upon divine operation, and that it depends upon that no less after the time of its beginning than when it first begins. This dependence implies that it would not continue to exist if God did not continue to act; in short, that this action of God is free. For if it were a necessary emanation, like that of the properties of the circle, which issue from its essence, it must then be said that God in the beginning produced the creature by necessity; or else it must be shown how, in creating it once, he imposed upon himself the necessity of conserving it. Now there is no reason why this conserving action should not be [356] called production, and even creation, if one will: for the dependence being as great afterwards as at the beginning, the extrinsic designation of being new or not does not change the nature of that action. 386. Let us then admit in such a sense that conservation is a continued creation, and let us see what M. Bayle seems to infer thence (p. 771) after the author of the _Reflexion on the Picture of Socinianism_, in opposition to M. Jurieu. 'It seems to me', this writer says, 'that one must conclude that God does all, and that in all creation there are no first or second or even occasional causes, as can be easily proved. At this moment when I speak, I am such as I am, with all my circumstances, with such thought, such action, whether I sit or stand, that if God creates me in this moment such as I am, as one must of necessity say in this system, he creates me with such thought, such action, such movement and such determination. One cannot say that God creates me in the first place, and that once I am created he produces with me my movements and my determinations. That is indefensible for two reasons. The first is, that when God creates me or conserves me at this instant, he does not conserve me as a being without form, like a species, or another of the Universals of Logic. I am an individual; he creates me and conserves me as such, and as being all that I am in this instant, with all my attendant circumstances. The second reason is that if God creates me in this instant, and one says that afterwards he produces with me my actions, it will be necessary to imagine another instant for action: for before acting one must exist. Now that would be two instants where we only assume one. It is therefore certain in this hypothesis that creatures have neither more connexion nor more relation with their actions than they had with their production at the first moment of the first creation.' The author of this _Reflexion_ draws thence very harsh conclusions which one can picture to oneself; and he testifies at the end that one would be deeply indebted to any man that should teach those who approve this system how to extricate themselves from these frightful absurdities. 387. M. Bayle carries this still further. 'You know', he says (p. 775), 'that it is demonstrated in the Scholastic writings' (he cites Arriaga, _Disp_. 9, Phys., sect. 6 et praesertim, sub-sect. 3) 'that the creature cannot be either the total cause or the partial cause of its conservation: for if it were, it would exist before existing, which is [357] contradictory. You know that the argument proceeds like this: that which conserves itself acts; now that which acts exists, and nothing can act before it has attained complete existence; therefore, if a creature conserved itself, it would act before being. This argument is not founded upon probabilities, but upon the first principles of Metaphysics, _non entis nulla sunt accidentia, operari sequitur esse_, axioms as clear as daylight. Let us go further. If creatures co-operated with God (here is meant an active cooperation, and not co-operation by a passive instrument) to conserve themselves they would act before being: that has been demonstrated. Now if they co-operated with God for the production of any other thing, they would also act before being; it is therefore as impossible for them to co-operate with God for the production of any other thing (such as local movement, an affirmation, volition, entities actually distinct from their substance, so it is asserted) as for their own conservation. Since their conservation is a continued creation, and since all human creatures in the world must confess that they cannot co-operate with God at the first moment of their existence, either to produce themselves or to give themselves any modality, since that would be to act before being (observe that Thomas Aquinas and sundry other Schoolmen teach that if the angels had sinned at the first moment of their creation God would be the author of the sin: see the Feuillant Pierre de St. Joseph, p. 318, _et seqq_., of the _Suavis Concordia Humanae Libertatis_; it is a sign that they acknowledge that at the first instant the creature cannot act in anything whatsoever), it follows manifestly that they cannot co-operate with God in any one of the subsequent moments, either to produce themselves or to produce any other thing. If they could co-operate therein at the second moment of their existence, nothing would prevent their being able to cooperate at the first moment.' 388. This is the way it will be necessary to answer these arguments. Let us assume that the creature is produced anew at each instant; let us grant also that the instant excludes all priority of time, being indivisible; but let us point out that it does not exclude priority of nature, or what is called anteriority _in signo rationis,_ and that this is sufficient. The production, or action whereby God produces, is anterior by nature to the existence of the creature that is produced; the creature taken in itself, with its nature and its necessary properties, is anterior to its accidental affections and to its actions; and yet all these things are in being [358] in the same moment. God produces the creature in conformity with the exigency of the preceding instants, according to the laws of his wisdom; and the creature operates in conformity with that nature which God conveys to it in creating it always. The limitations and imperfections arise therein through the nature of the subject, which sets bounds to God's production; this is the consequence of the original imperfection of creatures. Vice and crime, on the other hand, arise there through the free inward operation of the creature, in so far as this can occur within the instant, repetition afterwards rendering it discernible. 389. This anteriority of nature is a commonplace in philosophy: thus one says that the decrees of God have an order among themselves. When one ascribes to God (and rightly so) understanding of the arguments and conclusions of creatures, in such sort that all their demonstrations and syllogisms are known to him, and are found in him in a transcendent way, one sees that there is in the propositions or truths a natural order; but there is no order of time or interval, to cause him to advance in knowledge and pass from the premisses to the conclusion. 390. I find in the arguments that have just been quoted nothing which these reflexions fail to satisfy. When God produces the thing he produces it as an individual and not as a universal of logic (I admit); but he produces its essence before its accidents, its nature before its operations, following the priority of their nature, and _in signo anteriore rationis_. Thus one sees how the creature can be the true cause of the sin, while conservation by God does not prevent the sin; God disposes in accordance with the preceding state of the same creature, in order to follow the laws of his wisdom notwithstanding the sin, which in the first place will be produced by the creature. But it is true that God would not in the beginning have created the soul in a state wherein it would have sinned from the first moment, as the Schoolmen have justly observed: for there is nothing in the laws of his wisdom that could have induced him so to do. 391. This law of wisdom brings it about also that God reproduces the same substance, the same soul. Such was the answer that could have been given by the Abbé whom M. Bayle introduces in his _Dictionary_ (art. 'Pyrrhon.' lit. B, p. 2432). This wisdom effects the connexion of things. I concede therefore that the creature does not co-operate with God to conserve [359] himself (in the sense in which I have just explained conservation). But I see nothing to prevent the creature's co-operation with God for the production of any other thing: and especially might this concern its inward operation, as in the case of a thought or a volition, things really distinct from the substance. 392. But there I am once more at grips with M. Bayle. He maintains that there are no such accidents distinct from the substance. 'The reasons', he says, 'which our modern philosophers have employed to demonstrate that the accidents are not beings in reality distinct from the substance are not mere difficulties; they are arguments which overwhelm one, and which cannot be refuted. Take the trouble', he adds, 'to look for them in the writings of Father Maignan, or Father Malebranche or M. Calli' (Professor of Philosophy at Caen) 'or in the _Accidentia profligata_ of Father Saguens, disciple of Father Maignan, the extract from which is to be found in the _Nouvelles de la République des Lettres_, June 1702. Or if you wish one author only to suffice you, choose Dom François Lami, a Benedictine monk, and one of the strongest Cartesians to be found in France. You will find among his _Philosophical Letters_, printed at Trévoux in 1703, that one wherein by the geometricians' method he demonstrates "that God is the sole true cause of all that which is real." I would wish to see all these books; and as for this last proposition, it may be true in a very good sense: God is the one principal cause of pure and absolute realities, or of perfections. _Causae secundae agunt in virtute primae._ But when one comprises limitations and privations under the term realities one may say that the second causes co-operate in the production of that which is limited; otherwise God would be the cause of sin, and even the sole cause. 393. It is well to beware, moreover, lest in confusing substances with accidents, in depriving created substances of action, one fall into Spinozism, which is an exaggerated Cartesianism. That which does not act does not merit the name of substance. If the accidents are not distinct from the substances; if the created substance is a successive being, like movement; if it does not endure beyond a moment, and does not remain the same (during some stated portion of time) any more than its accidents; if it does not operate any more than a mathematical figure or a number: why shall one not say, with Spinoza, that God is the only substance, and [360] that creatures are only accidents or modifications? Hitherto it has been supposed that the substance remains, and that the accidents change; and I think one ought still to abide by this ancient doctrine, for the arguments I remember having read do not prove the contrary, and prove more than is needed. 394. 'One of the absurdities', says M. Bayle (p. 779), 'that arise from the so-called distinction which is alleged to exist between substances and their accidents is that creatures, if they produce the accidents, would possess a power of creation and annihilation. Accordingly one could not perform the slightest action without creating an innumerable number of real beings, and without reducing to nothingness an endless multitude of them. Merely by moving the tongue to cry out or to eat, one creates as many accidents as there are movements of the parts of the tongue, and one destroys as many accidents as there are parts of that which one eats, which lose their form, which become chyle, blood, etc.' This argument is only a kind of bugbear. What harm would be done, supposing that an infinity of movements, an infinity of figures spring up and disappear at every moment in the universe, and even in each part of the universe? It can be demonstrated, moreover, that that must be so. 395. As for the so-called creation of the accidents, who does not see that one needs no creative power in order to change place or shape, to form a square or a column, or some other parade-ground figure, by the movement of the soldiers who are drilling; or again to fashion a statue by removing a few pieces from a block of marble; or to make some figure in relief, by changing, decreasing or increasing a piece of wax? The production of modifications has never been called _creation_, and it is an abuse of terms to scare the world thus. God produces substances from nothing, and the substances produce accidents by the changes of their limits. 396. As for the souls or substantial forms, M. Bayle is right in adding: 'that there is nothing more inconvenient for those who admit substantial forms than the objection which is made that they could not be produced save by an actual creation, and that the Schoolmen are pitiable in their endeavours to answer this.' But there is nothing more convenient for me and for my system than this same objection. For I maintain that all the Souls, Entelechies or primitive forces, substantial forms, simple substances, or Monads, whatever name one may apply to them, can neither spring up [361] naturally nor perish. And the qualities or derivative forces, or what are called accidental forms, I take to be modifications of the primitive Entelechy, even as shapes are modifications of matter. That is why these modifications are perpetually changing, while the simple substance remains. 397. I have shown already (part I, 86 _seqq._) that souls cannot spring up naturally, or be derived from one another, and that it is necessary that ours either be created or be pre-existent. I have even pointed out a certain middle way between a creation and an entire pre-existence. I find it appropriate to say that the soul preexisting in the seeds from the beginning of things was only sentient, but that it was elevated to the superior degree, which is that of reason, when the man to whom this soul should belong was conceived, and when the organic body, always accompanying this soul from the beginning, but under many changes, was determined for forming the human body. I considered also that one might attribute this elevation of the sentient soul (which makes it reach a more sublime degree of being, namely reason) to the extraordinary operation of God. Nevertheless it will be well to add that I would dispense with miracles in the generating of man, as in that of the other animals. It will be possible to explain that, if one imagines that in this great number of souls and of animals, or at least of living organic bodies which are in the seeds, those souls alone which are destined to attain one day to human nature contain the reason that shall appear therein one day, and the organic bodies of these souls alone are preformed and predisposed to assume one day the human shape, while the other small animals or seminal living beings, in which no such thing is pre-established, are essentially different from them and possessed only of an inferior nature. This production is a kind of _traduction_, but more manageable than that kind which is commonly taught: it does not derive the soul from a soul, but only the animate from an animate, and it avoids the repeated miracles of a new creation, which would cause a new and pure soul to enter a body that must corrupt it. 398. I am, however, of the same opinion as Father Malebranche, that, in general, creation properly understood is not so difficult to admit as might be supposed, and that it is in a sense involved in the notion of the dependence of creatures. 'How stupid and ridiculous are the Philosophers!' (he exclaims, in his _Christian Meditations_, 9, No. 3). 'They assume that Creation is impossible, because they cannot conceive how God's power [362] is great enough to make something from nothing. But can they any better conceive how the power of God is capable of stirring a straw?' He adds, again with great truth (No. 5), 'If matter were uncreate, God could not move it or form anything from it. For God cannot move matter, or arrange it wisely, if he does not know it. Now God cannot know it, if he does not give it being: he can derive his knowledge only from himself. Nothing can act on him or enlighten him.' 399. M. Bayle, not content with saying that we are created continually, insists also on this other doctrine which he would fain derive thence: that our soul cannot act. This is the way he speaks on that matter (ch. 141, p. 765): 'He has too much acquaintance with Cartesianism' (it is of an able opponent he is speaking) 'not to know with what force it has been maintained in our day that there is no creature capable of producing motion, and that our soul is a purely passive subject in relation to sensations and ideas, and feelings of pain and of pleasure, etc. If this has not been carried as far as the volitions, that is on account of the existence of revealed truths; otherwise the acts of the will would have been found as passive as those of the understanding. The same reasons which prove that our soul does not form our ideas, and does not stir our organs, would prove also that it cannot form our acts of love and our volitions, etc' He might add: our vicious actions, our crimes. 400. The force of these proofs, which he praises, must not be so great as he thinks, for if it were they would prove too much. They would make God the author of sin. I admit that the soul cannot stir the organs by a physical influence; for I think that the body must have been so formed beforehand that it would do in time and place that which responds to the volitions of the soul, although it be true nevertheless that the soul is the principle of the operation. But if it be said that the soul does not produce its thoughts, its sensations, its feelings of pain and of pleasure, that is something for which I see no reason. In my system every simple substance (that is, every true substance) must be the true immediate cause of all its actions and inward passions; and, speaking strictly in a metaphysical sense, it has none other than those which it produces. Those who hold a different opinion, and who make God the sole agent, are needlessly becoming involved in expressions whence they will only with difficulty extricate themselves without offence against religion; [363] moreover, they unquestionably offend against reason. 401. Here is, however, the foundation of M. Bayle's argument. He says that we do not do that of which we know not the way it is done. But it is a principle which I do not concede to him. Let us listen to his dissertation (p. 767 seqq.): 'It is an astonishing thing that almost all philosophers (with the exception of those who expounded Aristotle, and who admitted a universal intelligence distinct from our soul, and cause of our perceptions: see in the _Historical and Critical Dictionary_, Note E of the article "Averroes") have shared the popular belief that we form our ideas actively. Yet where is the man who knows not on the one hand that he is in absolute ignorance as to how ideas are made, and on the other hand, that he could not sew two stitches if he were ignorant of how to sew? Is the sewing of two stitches in itself a work more difficult than the painting in one's mind of a rose, the very first time one's eyes rest upon it, and although one has never learnt this kind of painting? Does it not appear on the contrary that this mental portrait is in itself a work more difficult than tracing on canvas the shape of a flower, a thing we cannot do without having learnt it? We are all convinced that a key would be of no use to us for opening a chest if we were ignorant as to how to use the key, and yet we imagine that our soul is the efficient cause of the movement of our arms, despite that it knows neither where the nerves are which must be used for this movement, nor whence to obtain the animal spirits that are to flow into these nerves. We have the experience every day that the ideas we would fain recall do not come, and that they appear of themselves when we are no longer thinking of them. If that does not prevent us from thinking that we are their efficient cause, what reliance shall one place on the proof of feeling, which to M. Jacquelot appears so conclusive? Does our authority over our ideas more often fall short than our authority over our volitions? If we were to count up carefully, we should find in the course of our life more velleities than volitions, that is, more evidences of the servitude of our will than of its dominion. How many times does one and the same man not experience an inability to do a certain act of will (for example, an act of love for a man who had just injured him; an act of scorn for a fine sonnet that he had composed; an act of hatred for a mistress; an act of approval of an absurd epigram. Take note that I speak only of inward acts, [364] expressed by an "I will", such as "I will scorn", "approve", etc.) even if there were a hundred pistoles to be gained forthwith, and he ardently desired to gain these hundred pistoles, and he were fired with the ambition to convince himself by an experimental proof that he is master in his own domain? 402. 'To put together in few words the whole force of what I have just said to you, I will observe that it is evident to all those who go deeply into things, that the true efficient cause of an effect must know the effect, and be aware also of the way in which it must be produced. That is not necessary when one is only the instrument of the cause, or only the passive subject of its action; but one cannot conceive of it as not necessary to a true agent. Now if we examine ourselves well we shall be strongly convinced, (1) that, independently of experience, our soul is just as little aware of what a volition is as of what an idea is; (2) that after a long experience it is no more fully aware of how volitions are formed than it was before having willed anything. What is one to conclude from that, save that the soul cannot be the efficient cause of its volitions, any more than of its ideas, and of the motion of the spirits which cause our arms to move? (Take note that no pretence is made of deciding the point here absolutely, it is only being considered in relation to the principles of the objection.)' 403. That is indeed a strange way of reasoning! What necessity is there for one always to be aware how that which is done is done? Are salts, metals, plants, animals and a thousand other animate or inanimate bodies aware how that which they do is done, and need they be aware? Must a drop of oil or of fat understand geometry in order to become round on the surface of water? Sewing stitches is another matter: one acts for an end, one must be aware of the means. But we do not form our ideas because we will to do so, they form themselves within us, they form themselves through us, not in consequence of our will, but in accordance with our nature and that of things. The foetus forms itself in the animal, and a thousand other wonders of nature are produced by a certain _instinct_ that God has placed there, that is by virtue of _divine preformation_, which has made these admirable automata, adapted to produce mechanically such beautiful effects. Even so it is easy to believe that the soul is a spiritual automaton still more admirable, and that it is through divine preformation that it produces these beautiful ideas, wherein our will has no part and to which our [365] art cannot attain. The operation of spiritual automata, that is of souls, is not mechanical, but it contains in the highest degree all that is beautiful in mechanism. The movements which are developed in bodies are concentrated in the soul by representation as in an ideal world, which expresses the laws of the actual world and their consequences, but with this difference from the perfect ideal world which is in God, that most of the perceptions in the other substances are only confused. For it is plain that every simple substance embraces the whole universe in its confused perceptions or sensations, and that the succession of these perceptions is regulated by the particular nature of this substance, but in a manner which always expresses all the nature in the universe; and every present perception leads to a new perception, just as every movement that it represents leads to another movement. But it is impossible that the soul can know clearly its whole nature, and perceive how this innumerable number of small perceptions, piled up or rather concentrated together, shapes itself there: to that end it must needs know completely the whole universe which is embraced by them, that is, it must needs be a God. 404. As regards _velleities_, they are only a very imperfect kind of conditional will. I would, if I could: _liberet si liceret_; and in the case of a velleity, we do not will, properly speaking, to will, but to be able. That explains why there are none in God; and they must not be confused with antecedent will. I have explained sufficiently elsewhere that our control over volitions can be exercised only indirectly, and that one would be unhappy if one were sufficiently master in one's own domain to be able to will without cause, without rhyme or reason. To complain of not having such a control would be to argue like Pliny, who carps at the power of God because God cannot destroy himself. 405. I intended to finish here after having met (as it seems to me) all the objections of M. Bayle on this matter that I could find in his works. But remembering Laurentius Valla's _Dialogue on Free Will,_ in opposition to Boethius, which I have already mentioned, I thought it would be opportune to quote it in abstract, retaining the dialogue form, and then to continue from where it ends, keeping up the fiction it initiated; and that less with the purpose of enlivening the subject, than in order to explain myself towards the end of my dissertation as clearly as I can, and in a way [366] most likely to be generally understood. This Dialogue of Valla and his books on Pleasure and the True Good make it plain that he was no less a philosopher than a humanist. These four books were opposed to the four books on the _Consolation of Philosophy_ by Boethius, and the Dialogue to the fifth book. A certain Spaniard named Antonio Glarea requests of him elucidation on the difficulty of free will, whereof little is known as it is worthy to be known, for upon it depend justice and injustice, punishment and reward in this life and in the life to come. Laurentius Valla answers him that we must console ourselves for an ignorance which we share with the whole world, just as one consoles oneself for not having the wings of birds. 406. ANTONIO--I know that you can give me those wings, like another Daedalus, so that I may emerge from the prison of ignorance, and rise to the very region of truth, which is the homeland of souls. The books that I have seen have not satisfied me, not even the famous Boethius, who meets with general approval. I know not whether he fully understood himself what he says of God's understanding, and of eternity superior to time; and I ask for your opinion on his way of reconciling foreknowledge with freedom. LAURENT--I am fearful of giving offence to many people, if I confute this great man; yet I will give preference over this fear to the consideration I have for the entreaties of a friend, provided that you make me a promise. ANT.--What? LAUR.--It is, that when you have dined with me you do not ask me to give you supper, that is to say, I desire that you be content with the answer to the question you have put to me, and do not put a further question. 407. ANT.--I promise you. Here is the heart of the difficulty. If God foresaw the treason of Judas, it was necessary that he should betray, it was impossible for him not to betray. There is no obligation to do the impossible. He therefore did not sin, he did not deserve to be punished. That destroys justice and religion, and the fear of God. LAUR.--God foresaw sin; but he did not compel man to commit it; sin is voluntary. ANT.--That will was necessary, since it was foreseen. LAUR.--If my knowledge does not cause things past or present to exist, neither will my foreknowledge cause future things to exist. 408. ANT.--That comparison is deceptive: neither the present nor the past can be changed, they are already necessary; but the future, movable in itself, becomes fixed and necessary through foreknowledge. Let us [367] pretend that a god of the heathen boasts of knowing the future: I will ask him if he knows which foot I shall put foremost, then I will do the opposite of that which he shall have foretold. LAUR.--This God knows what you are about to do. ANT.--How does he know it, since I will do the opposite of what he shall have said, and I suppose that he will say what he thinks? LAUR.--Your supposition is false: God will not answer you; or again, if he were to answer you, the veneration you would have for him would make you hasten to do what he had said; his prediction would be to you an order. But we have changed the question. We are not concerned with what God will foretell but with what he foresees. Let us therefore return to foreknowledge, and distinguish between the necessary and the certain. It is not impossible for what is foreseen not to happen; but it is infallibly sure that it will happen. I can become a Soldier or Priest, but I shall not become one. 409. ANT.--Here I have you firmly held. The philosophers' rule maintains that all that which is possible can be considered as existing. But if that which you affirm to be possible, namely an event different from what has been foreseen, actually happened, God would have been mistaken. LAUR.--The rules of the philosophers are not oracles for me. This one in particular is not correct. Two contradictories are often both possible. Can they also both exist? But, for your further enlightenment, let us pretend that Sextus Tarquinius, coming to Delphi to consult the Oracle of Apollo, receives the answer: _Exul inopsque cades irata pulsus ab urbe._ A beggared outcast of the city's rage, Beside a foreign shore cut short thy age. The young man will complain: I have brought you a royal gift, O Apollo, and you proclaim for me a lot so unhappy? Apollo will say to him: Your gift is pleasing to me, and I will do that which you ask of me, I will tell you what will happen. I know the future, but I do not bring it about. Go make your complaint to Jupiter and the Parcae. Sextus would be ridiculous if he continued thereafter to complain about Apollo. Is not that true? ANT.--He will say: I thank you, O holy Apollo, for not having repaid me with silence, for having revealed to me the Truth. But whence comes it that Jupiter is so cruel towards me, that he prepares so hard a fate for an[368] innocent man, for a devout worshipper of the Gods? LAUR.--You innocent? Apollo will say. Know that you will be proud, that you will commit adulteries, that you will be a traitor to your country. Could Sextus reply: It is you who are the cause, O Apollo; you compel me to do it, by foreseeing it? ANT.--I admit that he would have taken leave of his senses if he were to make this reply. LAUR.--Therefore neither can the traitor Judas complain of God's foreknowledge. And there is the answer to your question. 410. ANT.--You have satisfied me beyond my hopes, you have done what Boethius was not able to do: I shall be beholden to you all my life long. LAUR.--Yet let us carry our tale a little further. Sextus will say: No, Apollo, I will not do what you say. ANT.--What! the God will say, do you mean then that I am a liar? I repeat to you once more, you will do all that I have just said. LAUR.--Sextus, mayhap, would pray the Gods to alter fate, to give him a better heart. ANT.--He would receive the answer: _Desine fata Deum flecti sperare precando_. He cannot cause divine foreknowledge to lie. But what then will Sextus say? Will he not break forth into complaints against the Gods? Will he not say? What? I am then not free? It is not in my power to follow virtue? LAUR.--Apollo will say to him perhaps: Know, my poor Sextus, that the Gods make each one as he is. Jupiter made the wolf ravening, the hare timid, the ass stupid, and the lion courageous. He gave you a soul that is wicked and irreclaimable; you will act in conformity with your natural disposition, and Jupiter will treat you as your actions shall deserve; he has sworn it by the Styx. 411. ANT.--I confess to you, it seems to me that Apollo in excusing himself accuses Jupiter more than he accuses Sextus, and Sextus would answer him: Jupiter therefore condemns in me his own crime; it is he who is the only guilty one. He could have made me altogether different: but, made as I am, I must act as he has willed. Why then does he punish me? Could I have resisted his will? LAUR.--I confess that I am brought to a pause here as you are. I have made the Gods appear on the scene, Apollo and Jupiter, to make you distinguish between divine foreknowledge and providence. I have shown that Apollo and foreknowledge do not impair freedom; but I cannot satisfy you on the decrees of Jupiter's will, that is to say, on the orders of providence. ANT.--You have dragged me out of one abyss, and you [369] plunge me back into another and greater abyss. LAUR.--Remember our contract: I have given you dinner, and you ask me to give you supper also. 412. ANT.--Now I discover your cunning: You have caught me, this is not an honest contract. LAUR.--What would you have me do? I have given you wine and meats from my home produce, such as my small estate can provide; as for nectar and ambrosia, you will ask the Gods for them: that divine nurture is not found among men. Let us hearken to St. Paul, that chosen vessel who was carried even to the third heaven, who heard there unutterable words: he will answer you with the comparison of the potter, with the incomprehensibility of the ways of God, and wonder at the depth of his wisdom. Nevertheless it is well to observe that one does not ask why God foresees the thing, for that is understood, it is because it will be: but one asks why he ordains thus, why he hardens such an one, why he has compassion on another. We do not know the reasons which he may have for this; but _since he is very good and very wise that is enough to make us deem that his reasons are good_. As he is just also, it follows that his decrees and his operation do not destroy our freedom. Some men have sought some reason therein. They have said that we are made from a corrupt and impure mass, indeed of mud. But Adam and the Angels were made of silver and gold, and they sinned notwithstanding. One sometimes becomes hardened again after regeneration. We must therefore seek another cause for evil, and I doubt whether even the Angels are aware of it; yet they cease not to be happy and to praise God. Boethius hearkened more to the answer of philosophy than to that of St. Paul; that was the cause of his failure. Let us believe in Jesus Christ, he is the virtue and the wisdom of God: he teaches us that God willeth the salvation of all, that he willeth not the death of the sinner. Let us therefore put our trust in the divine mercy, and let us not by our vanity and our malice disqualify ourselves to receive it. 413. This dialogue of Valla's is excellent, even though one must take exception to some points in it: but its chief defect is that it cuts the knot and that it seems to condemn providence under the name of Jupiter, making him almost the author of sin. Let us therefore carry the little fable still further. Sextus, quitting Apollo and Delphi, seeks out Jupiter at Dodona. He makes sacrifices and then he exhibits his complaints. Why have you condemned me, O great God, to be wicked and unhappy? Change [370] my lot and my heart, or acknowledge your error. Jupiter answers him: If you will renounce Rome, the Parcae shall spin for you different fates, you shall become wise, you shall be happy. SEXTUS--Why must I renounce the hope of a crown? Can I not come to be a good king? JUPITER--No, Sextus; I know better what is needful for you. If you go to Rome, you are lost. Sextus, not being able to resolve upon so great a sacrifice, went forth from the temple, and abandoned himself to his fate. Theodorus, the High Priest, who had been present at the dialogue between God and Sextus, addressed these words to Jupiter: Your wisdom is to be revered, O great Ruler of the Gods. You have convinced this man of his error; he must henceforth impute his unhappiness to his evil will; he has not a word to say. But your faithful worshippers are astonished; they would fain wonder at your goodness as well as at your greatness: it rested with you to give him a different will. JUPITER--Go to my daughter Pallas, she will inform you what I was bound to do. 414. Theodorus journeyed to Athens: he was bidden to lie down to sleep in the temple of the Goddess. Dreaming, he found himself transported into an unknown country. There stood a palace of unimaginable splendour and prodigious size. The Goddess Pallas appeared at the gate, surrounded by rays of dazzling majesty. _Qualisque videri_ _Coelicolis et quanta solet._ She touched the face of Theodorus with an olive-branch, which she was holding in her hand. And lo! he had become able to confront the divine radiancy of the daughter of Jupiter, and of all that she should show him. Jupiter who loves you (she said to him) has commended you to me to be instructed. You see here the palace of the fates, where I keep watch and ward. Here are representations not only of that which happens but also of all that which is possible. Jupiter, having surveyed them before the beginning of the existing world, classified the possibilities into worlds, and chose the best of all. He comes sometimes to visit these places, to enjoy the pleasure of recapitulating things and of renewing his own choice, which cannot fail to please him. I have only to speak, and we shall see a whole world that my father might have produced, wherein will be represented anything that can be asked of him; and in this way one may know also what would happen if any particular possibility should attain unto [371] existence. And whenever the conditions are not determinate enough, there will be as many such worlds differing from one another as one shall wish, which will answer differently the same question, in as many ways as possible. You learnt geometry in your youth, like all well-instructed Greeks. You know therefore that when the conditions of a required point do not sufficiently determine it, and there is an infinite number of them, they all fall into what the geometricians call a locus, and this locus at least (which is often a line) will be determinate. Thus you can picture to yourself an ordered succession of worlds, which shall contain each and every one the case that is in question, and shall vary its circumstances and its consequences. But if you put a case that differs from the actual world only in one single definite thing and in its results, a certain one of those determinate worlds will answer you. These worlds are all here, that is, in ideas. I will show you some, wherein shall be found, not absolutely the same Sextus as you have seen (that is not possible, he carries with him always that which he shall be) but several Sextuses resembling him, possessing all that you know already of the true Sextus, but not all that is already in him imperceptibly, nor in consequence all that shall yet happen to him. You will find in one world a very happy and noble Sextus, in another a Sextus content with a mediocre state, a Sextus, indeed, of every kind and endless diversity of forms. 415. Thereupon the Goddess led Theodorus into one of the halls of the palace: when he was within, it was no longer a hall, it was a world, _Solemque suum, sua sidera norat_. At the command of Pallas there came within view Dodona with the temple of Jupiter, and Sextus issuing thence; he could be heard saying that he would obey the God. And lo! he goes to a city lying between two seas, resembling Corinth. He buys there a small garden; cultivating it, he finds a treasure; he becomes a rich man, enjoying affection and esteem; he dies at a great age, beloved of the whole city. Theodorus saw the whole life of Sextus as at one glance, and as in a stage presentation. There was a great volume of writings in this hall: Theodorus could not refrain from asking what that meant. It is the history of this world which we are now visiting, the Goddess told him; it is the book of its fates. You have seen a number [372] on the forehead of Sextus. Look in this book for the place which it indicates. Theodorus looked for it, and found there the history of Sextus in a form more ample than the outline he had seen. Put your finger on any line you please, Pallas said to him, and you will see represented actually in all its detail that which the line broadly indicates. He obeyed, and he saw coming into view all the characteristics of a portion of the life of that Sextus. They passed into another hall, and lo! another world, another Sextus. who, issuing from the temple, and having resolved to obey Jupiter, goes to Thrace. There he marries the daughter of the king, who had no other children; he succeeds him, and he is adored by his subjects. They went into other rooms, and always they saw new scenes. 416. The halls rose in a pyramid, becoming even more beautiful as one mounted towards the apex, and representing more beautiful worlds. Finally they reached the highest one which completed the pyramid, and which was the most beautiful of all: for the pyramid had a beginning, but one could not see its end; it had an apex, but no base; it went on increasing to infinity. That is (as the Goddess explained) because amongst an endless number of possible worlds there is the best of all, else would God not have determined to create any; but there is not any one which has not also less perfect worlds below it: that is why the pyramid goes on descending to infinity. Theodorus, entering this highest hall, became entranced in ecstasy; he had to receive succour from the Goddess, a drop of a divine liquid placed on his tongue restored him; he was beside himself for joy. We are in the real true world (said the Goddess) and you are at the source of happiness. Behold what Jupiter makes ready for you, if you continue to serve him faithfully. Here is Sextus as he is, and as he will be in reality. He issues from the temple in a rage, he scorns the counsel of the Gods. You see him going to Rome, bringing confusion everywhere, violating the wife of his friend. There he is driven out with his father, beaten, unhappy. If Jupiter had placed here a Sextus happy at Corinth or King in Thrace, it would be no longer this world. And nevertheless he could not have failed to choose this world, which surpasses in perfection all the others, and which forms the apex of the pyramid. Else would Jupiter have renounced his wisdom, he would have banished me, me his daughter. You see that my father did not make Sextus wicked; he was so from all [373] eternity, he was so always and freely. My father only granted him the existence which his wisdom could not refuse to the world where he is included: he made him pass from the region of the possible to that of the actual beings. The crime of Sextus serves for great things: it renders Rome free; thence will arise a great empire, which will show noble examples to mankind. But that is nothing in comparison with the worth of this whole world, at whose beauty you will marvel, when, after a happy passage from this mortal state to another and better one, the Gods shall have fitted you to know it. 417. At this moment Theodorus wakes up, he gives thanks to the Goddess, he owns the justice of Jupiter. His spirit pervaded by what he has seen and heard, he carries on the office of High Priest, with all the zeal of a true servant of his God, and with all the joy whereof a mortal is capable. It seems to me that this continuation of the tale may elucidate the difficulty which Valla did not wish to treat. If Apollo has represented aright God's knowledge of vision (that which concerns beings in existence), I hope that Pallas will have not discreditably filled the role of what is called knowledge of simple intelligence (that which embraces all that is possible), wherein at last the source of things must be sought. [377] * * * * * APPENDICES SUMMARY OF THE CONTROVERSY REDUCED TO FORMAL ARGUMENTS * * * * * Some persons of discernment have wished me to make this addition. I have the more readily deferred to their opinion, because of the opportunity thereby gained for meeting certain difficulties, and for making observations on certain matters which were not treated in sufficient detail in the work itself. OBJECTION I Whoever does not choose the best course is lacking either in power, or knowledge, or goodness. God did not choose the best course in creating this world. Therefore God was lacking in power, or knowledge, or goodness. ANSWER I deny the minor, that is to say, the second premiss of this syllogism, and the opponent proves it by this PROSYLLOGISM Whoever makes things in which there is evil, and which could have been made without any evil, or need not have been made at all, does not choose the best course. God made a world wherein there is evil; a world, I say, which could have been made without any evil or which need not have been made at all. [378] Therefore God did not choose the best course. ANSWER I admit the minor of this prosyllogism: for one must confess that there is evil in this world which God has made, and that it would have been possible to make a world without evil or even not to create any world, since its creation depended upon the free will of God. But I deny the major, that is, the first of the two premisses of the prosyllogism, and I might content myself with asking for its proof. In order, however, to give a clearer exposition of the matter, I would justify this denial by pointing out that the best course is not always that one which tends towards avoiding evil, since it is possible that the evil may be accompanied by a greater good. For example, the general of an army will prefer a great victory with a slight wound to a state of affairs without wound and without victory. I have proved this in further detail in this work by pointing out, through instances taken from mathematics and elsewhere, that an imperfection in the part may be required for a greater perfection in the whole. I have followed therein the opinion of St. Augustine, who said a hundred times that God permitted evil in order to derive from it a good, that is to say, a greater good; and Thomas Aquinas says (in libr. 2, _Sent. Dist._ 32, qu. 1, art. 1) that the permission of evil tends towards the good of the universe. I have shown that among older writers the fall of Adam was termed _felix culpa_, a fortunate sin, because it had been expiated with immense benefit by the incarnation of the Son of God: for he gave to the universe something more noble than anything there would otherwise have been amongst created beings. For the better understanding of the matter I added, following the example of many good authors, that it was consistent with order and the general good for God to grant to certain of his creatures the opportunity to exercise their freedom, even when he foresaw that they would turn to evil: for God could easily correct the evil, and it was not fitting that in order to prevent sin he should always act in an extraordinary way. It will therefore sufficiently refute the objection to show that a world with evil may be better than a world without evil. But I have gone still further in the work, and have even shown that this universe must be indeed better than every other possible universe. [379] OBJECTION II If there is more evil than good in intelligent creatures, there is more evil than good in all God's work. Now there is more evil than good in intelligent creatures. Therefore there is more evil than good in all God's work. ANSWER I deny the major and the minor of this conditional syllogism. As for the major, I do not admit it because this supposed inference from the part to the whole, from intelligent creatures to all creatures, assumes tacitly and without proof that creatures devoid of reason cannot be compared or taken into account with those that have reason. But why might not the surplus of good in the non-intelligent creatures that fill the world compensate for and even exceed incomparably the surplus of evil in rational creatures? It is true that the value of the latter is greater; but by way of compensation the others are incomparably greater in number; and it may be that the proportion of number and quantity surpasses that of value and quality. The minor also I cannot admit, namely, that there is more evil than good in intelligent creatures. One need not even agree that there is more evil than good in the human kind. For it is possible, and even a very reasonable thing, that the glory and the perfection of the blessed may be incomparably greater than the misery and imperfection of the damned, and that here the excellence of the total good in the smaller number may exceed the total evil which is in the greater number. The blessed draw near to divinity through a divine Mediator, so far as can belong to these created beings, and make such progress in good as is impossible for the damned to make in evil, even though they should approach as nearly as may be the nature of demons. God is infinite, and the Devil is finite; good can and does go on _ad infinitum_, whereas evil has its bounds. It may be therefore, and it is probable, that there happens in the comparison between the blessed and the damned the opposite of what I said could happen in the comparison between the happy and the unhappy, namely that in the latter the proportion of degrees surpasses that of numbers, while in the comparison between intelligent and non-intelligent the proportion of numbers is greater than that of values. One is justified in assuming that a thing may be so as long as one does not prove that it is impossible, and indeed what is here [380] put forward goes beyond assumption. But secondly, even should one admit that there is more evil than good in the human kind, one still has every reason for not admitting that there is more evil than good in all intelligent creatures. For there is an inconceivable number of Spirits, and perhaps of other rational creatures besides: and an opponent cannot prove that in the whole City of God, composed as much of Spirits as of rational animals without number and of endless different kinds, the evil exceeds the good. Although one need not, in order to answer an objection, prove that a thing is, when its mere possibility suffices, I have nevertheless shown in this present work that it is a result of the supreme perfection of the Sovereign of the Universe that the kingdom of God should be the most perfect of all states or governments possible, and that in consequence what little evil there is should be required to provide the full measure of the vast good existing there. OBJECTION III If it is always impossible not to sin, it is always unjust to punish. Now it is always impossible not to sin, or rather all sin is necessary. Therefore it is always unjust to punish. The minor of this is proved as follows. FIRST PROSYLLOGISM Everything predetermined is necessary. Every event is predetermined. Therefore every event (and consequently sin also) is necessary. Again this second minor is proved thus. SECOND PROSYLLOGISM That which is future, that which is foreseen, that which is involved in causes is predetermined. Every event is of this kind. Therefore every event is predetermined. ANSWER I admit in a certain sense the conclusion of the second prosyllogism, which is the minor of the first; but I shall deny the major of the first [381] prosyllogism, namely that everything predetermined is necessary; taking 'necessity', say the necessity to sin, or the impossibility of not sinning, or of not doing some action, in the sense relevant to the argument, that is, as a necessity essential and absolute, which destroys the morality of action and the justice of punishment. If anyone meant a different necessity or impossibility (that is, a necessity only moral or hypothetical, which will be explained presently) it is plain that we would deny him the major stated in the objection. We might content ourselves with this answer, and demand the proof of the proposition denied: but I am well pleased to justify my manner of procedure in the present work, in order to make the matter clear and to throw more light on this whole subject, by explaining the necessity that must be rejected and the determination that must be allowed. The truth is that the necessity contrary to morality, which must be avoided and which would render punishment unjust, is an insuperable necessity, which would render all opposition unavailing, even though one should wish with all one's heart to avoid the necessary action, and though one should make all possible efforts to that end. Now it is plain that this is not applicable to voluntary actions, since one would not do them if one did not so desire. Thus their prevision and predetermination is not absolute, but it presupposes will: if it is certain that one will do them, it is no less certain that one will will to do them. These voluntary actions and their results will not happen whatever one may do and whether one will them or not; but they will happen because one will do, and because one will will to do, that which leads to them. That is involved in prevision and predetermination, and forms the reason thereof. The necessity of such events is called conditional or hypothetical, or again necessity of consequence, because it presupposes the will and the other requisites. But the necessity which destroys morality, and renders punishment unjust and reward unavailing, is found in the things that will be whatever one may do and whatever one may will to do: in a word, it exists in that which is essential. This it is which is called an absolute necessity. Thus it avails nothing with regard to what is necessary absolutely to ordain interdicts or commandments, to propose penalties or prizes, to blame or to praise; it will come to pass no more and no less. In voluntary actions, on the contrary, and in what depends upon them, precepts, armed with power to[382] punish and to reward, very often serve, and are included in the order of causes that make action exist. Thus it comes about that not only pains and effort but also prayers are effective, God having had even these prayers in mind before he ordered things, and having made due allowance for them. That is why the precept _Ora et labora_ (Pray and work) remains intact. Thus not only those who (under the empty pretext of the necessity of events) maintain that one can spare oneself the pains demanded by affairs, but also those who argue against prayers, fall into that which the ancients even in their time called 'the Lazy Sophism'. So the predetermination of events by their causes is precisely what contributes to morality instead of destroying it, and the causes incline the will without necessitating it. For this reason the determination we are concerned with is not a necessitation. It is certain (to him who knows all) that the effect will follow this inclination; but this effect does not follow thence by a consequence which is necessary, that is, whose contrary implies contradiction; and it is also by such an inward inclination that the will is determined, without the presence of necessity. Suppose that one has the greatest possible passion (for example, a great thirst), you will admit that the soul can find some reason for resisting it, even if it were only that of displaying its power. Thus though one may never have complete indifference of equipoise, and there is always a predominance of inclination for the course adopted, that predominance does not render absolutely necessary the resolution taken. OBJECTION IV Whoever can prevent the sin of others and does not so, but rather contributes to it, although he be fully apprised of it, is accessary thereto. God can prevent the sin of intelligent creatures; but he does not so, and he rather contributes to it by his co-operation and by the opportunities he causes, although he is fully cognizant of it. Therefore, etc. ANSWER I deny the major of this syllogism. It may be that one can prevent the sin, but that one ought not to do so, because one could not do so without committing a sin oneself, or (when God is concerned) without acting unreasonably. I have given instances of that, and have applied them to[383] God himself. It may be also that one contributes to the evil, and that one even opens the way to it sometimes, in doing things one is bound to do. And when one does one's duty, or (speaking of God) when, after full consideration, one does that which reason demands, one is not responsible for events, even when one foresees them. One does not will these evils; but one is willing to permit them for a greater good, which one cannot in reason help preferring to other considerations. This is a _consequent_ will, resulting from acts of _antecedent_ will, in which one wills the good. I know that some persons, in speaking of the antecedent and consequent will of God, have meant by the antecedent that which wills that all men be saved, and by the consequent that which wills, in consequence of persistent sin, that there be some damned, damnation being a result of sin. But these are only examples of a more general notion, and one may say with the same reason, that God wills by his antecedent will that men sin not, and that by his consequent or final and decretory will (which is always followed by its effect) he wills to permit that they sin, this permission being a result of superior reasons. One has indeed justification for saying, in general, that the antecedent will of God tends towards the production of good and the prevention of evil, each taken in itself, and as it were detached (_particulariter et secundum quid_: Thom., I, qu. 19, art. 6) according to the measure of the degree of each good or of each evil. Likewise one may say that the consequent, or final and total, divine will tends towards the production of as many goods as can be put together, whose combination thereby becomes determined, and involves also the permission of some evils and the exclusion of some goods, as the best possible plan of the universe demands. Arminius, in his _Antiperkinsus,_ explained very well that the will of God can be called consequent not only in relation to the action of the creature considered beforehand in the divine understanding, but also in relation to other anterior acts of divine will. But it is enough to consider the passage cited from Thomas Aquinas, and that from Scotus (I, dist. 46, qu. 11), to see that they make this distinction as I have made it here. Nevertheless if anyone will not suffer this use of the terms, let him put 'previous' in place of 'antecedent' will, and 'final' or 'decretory' in place of 'consequent' will. For I do not wish to wrangle about words. [384] OBJECTION V Whoever produces all that is real in a thing is its cause. God produces all that is real in sin. Therefore God is the cause of sin. ANSWER I might content myself with denying the major or the minor, because the term 'real' admits of interpretations capable of rendering these propositions false. But in order to give a better explanation I will make a distinction. 'Real' either signifies that which is positive only, or else it includes also privative beings: in the first case, I deny the major and I admit the minor; in the second case, I do the opposite. I might have confined myself to that; but I was willing to go further, in order to account for this distinction. I have therefore been well pleased to point out that every purely positive or absolute reality is a perfection, and that every imperfection comes from limitation, that is, from the privative: for to limit is to withhold extension, or the more beyond. Now God is the cause of all perfections, and consequently of all realities, when they are regarded as purely positive. But limitations or privations result from the original imperfection of creatures which restricts their receptivity. It is as with a laden boat, which the river carries along more slowly or less slowly in proportion to the weight that it bears: thus the speed comes from the river, but the retardation which restricts this speed comes from the load. Also I have shown in the present work how the creature, in causing sin, is a deficient cause; how errors and evil inclinations spring from privation; and how privation is efficacious accidentally. And I have justified the opinion of St. Augustine (lib. I, _Ad. Simpl._, qu. 2) who explains (for example) how God hardens the soul, not in giving it something evil, but because the effect of the good he imprints is restricted by the resistance of the soul, and by the circumstances contributing to this resistance, so that he does not give it all the good that would overcome its evil. 'Nec _(inquit)_ ab illo erogatur aliquid quo homo fit deterior, sed tantum quo fit melior non erogatur.' But if God had willed to do more here he must needs have produced either fresh natures in his creatures or fresh miracles to change their natures, and this the best plan did not allow. It is just as if the current of the river must needs be more rapid than its slope permits or the boats themselves be less laden, if they [385] had to be impelled at a greater speed. So the limitation or original imperfection of creatures brings it about that even the best plan of the universe cannot admit more good, and cannot be exempted from certain evils, these, however, being only of such a kind as may tend towards a greater good. There are some disorders in the parts which wonderfully enhance the beauty of the whole, just as certain dissonances, appropriately used, render harmony more beautiful. But that depends upon the answer which I have already given to the first objection. OBJECTION VI Whoever punishes those who have done as well as it was in their power to do is unjust. God does so. Therefore, etc. ANSWER I deny the minor of this argument. And I believe that God always gives sufficient aid and grace to those who have good will, that is to say, who do not reject this grace by a fresh sin. Thus I do not admit the damnation of children dying unbaptized or outside the Church, or the damnation of adult persons who have acted according to the light that God has given them. And I believe that, _if anyone has followed the light he had_, he will undoubtedly receive thereof in greater measure as he has need, even as the late Herr Hulsemann, who was celebrated as a profound theologian at Leipzig, has somewhere observed; and if such a man had failed to receive light during his life, he would receive it at least in the hour of death. OBJECTION VII Whoever gives only to some, and not to all, the means of producing effectively in them good will and final saving faith has not enough goodness. God does so. Therefore, etc. ANSWER I deny the major. It is true that God could overcome the greatest resistance of the human heart, and indeed he sometimes does so, [386] whether by an inward grace or by the outward circumstances that can greatly influence souls; but he does not always do so. Whence comes this distinction, someone will say, and wherefore does his goodness appear to be restricted? The truth is that it would not have been in order always to act in an extraordinary way and to derange the connexion of things, as I have observed already in answering the first objection. The reasons for this connexion, whereby the one is placed in more favourable circumstances than the other, are hidden in the depths of God's wisdom: they depend upon the universal harmony. The best plan of the universe, which God could not fail to choose, required this. One concludes thus from the event itself; since God made the universe, it was not possible to do better. Such management, far from being contrary to goodness, has rather been prompted by supreme goodness itself. This objection with its solution might have been inferred from what was said with regard to the first objection; but it seemed advisable to touch upon it separately. OBJECTION VIII Whoever cannot fail to choose the best is not free. God cannot fail to choose the best. Therefore God is not free. ANSWER I deny the major of this argument. Rather is it true freedom, and the most perfect, to be able to make the best use of one's free will, and always to exercise this power, without being turned aside either by outward force or by inward passions, whereof the one enslaves our bodies and the other our souls. There is nothing less servile and more befitting the highest degree of freedom than to be always led towards the good, and always by one's own inclination, without any constraint and without any displeasure. And to object that God therefore had need of external things is only a sophism. He creates them freely: but when he had set before him an end, that of exercising his goodness, his wisdom determined him to choose the means most appropriate for obtaining this end. To call that a _need_ is to take the term in a sense not usual, which clears it of all imperfection, somewhat as one does when speaking of the wrath of God. Seneca says somewhere, that God commanded only once, but that he obeys[387] always, because he obeys the laws that he willed to ordain for himself: _semel jussit, semper paret_. But he had better have said, that God always commands and that he is always obeyed: for in willing he always follows the tendency of his own nature, and all other things always follow his will. And as this will is always the same one cannot say that he obeys that will only which he formerly had. Nevertheless, although his will is always indefectible and always tends towards the best, the evil or the lesser good which he rejects will still be possible in itself. Otherwise the necessity of good would be geometrical (so to speak) or metaphysical, and altogether absolute; the contingency of things would be destroyed, and there would be no choice. But necessity of this kind, which does not destroy the possibility of the contrary, has the name by analogy only: it becomes effective not through the mere essence of things, but through that which is outside them and above them, that is, through the will of God. This necessity is called moral, because for the wise what is necessary and what is owing are equivalent things; and when it is always followed by its effect, as it indeed is in the perfectly wise, that is, in God, one can say that it is a happy necessity. The more nearly creatures approach this, the closer do they come to perfect felicity. Moreover, necessity of this kind is not the necessity one endeavours to avoid, and which destroys morality, reward and commendation. For that which it brings to pass does not happen whatever one may do and whatever one may will, but because one desires it. A will to which it is natural to choose well deserves most to be commended; and it carries with it its own reward, which is supreme happiness. And as this constitution of the divine nature gives an entire satisfaction to him who possesses it, it is also the best and the most desirable from the point of view of the creatures who are all dependent upon God. If the will of God had not as its rule the principle of the best, it would tend towards evil, which would be worst of all; or else it would be indifferent somehow to good and to evil, and guided by chance. But a will that would always drift along at random would scarcely be any better for the government of the universe than the fortuitous concourse of corpuscles, without the existence of divinity. And even though God should abandon himself to chance only in some cases, and in a certain way (as he would if he did not always tend entirely towards the best, and if he were capable of preferring a lesser good to a greater good, that is, an evil to a good, since that which [388] prevents a greater good is an evil) he would be no less imperfect than the object of his choice. Then he would not deserve absolute trust; he would act without reason in such a case, and the government of the universe would be like certain games equally divided between reason and luck. This all proves that this objection which is made against the choice of the best perverts the notions of free and necessary, and represents the best to us actually as evil: but that is either malicious or absurd. [389] * * * * * EXCURSUS ON THEODICY 392 published by the author in Mémoires de Trévoux July 1712 * * * * * _February_ 1712 I said in my essays, 392, that I wished to see the demonstrations mentioned by M. Bayle and contained in the sixth letter printed at Trévoux in 1703. Father des Bosses has shown me this letter, in which the writer essays to demonstrate by the geometrical method that God is the sole true cause of all that is real. My perusal of it has confirmed me in the opinion which I indicated in the same passage, namely, that this proposition can be true in a very good sense, God being the only cause of pure and absolute realities, or perfections; but when one includes limitations or privations under the name of realities one can say that second causes co-operate in the production of what is limited, and that otherwise God would be the cause of sin, and even its sole cause. And I am somewhat inclined to think that the gifted author of the letter does not greatly differ in opinion from me, although he seems to include all modalities among the realities of which he declares God to be the sole cause. For in actual fact I think he will not admit that God is the cause and the author of sin. Indeed, he explains himself in a manner which seems to overthrow his thesis and to grant real action to creatures. For in the proof of the eighth corollary of his second proposition these words occur: 'The natural motion of the soul, although determinate in itself, is indeterminate in respect of its objects. For it is love of good in general. It is through the ideas of good appearing [390] in individual objects that this motion becomes individual and determinate in relation to those objects. And thus as the mind has the power of varying its own ideas it can also change the determinations of its love. And for that purpose it is not necessary that it overcome the power of God or oppose his action. These determinations of motion towards individual objects are not invincible. It is this noninvincibility which causes the mind to be free and capable of changing them; but after all the mind makes these changes only through the motion which God gives to it and conserves for it.' In my own style I would have said that the perfection which is in the action of the creature comes from God, but that the limitations to be found there are a consequence of the original limitation and the preceding limitations that occurred in the creature. Further, this is so not only in minds but also in all other substances, which thereby are causes co-operating in the change which comes to pass in themselves; for this determination of which the author speaks is nothing but a limitation. Now if after that one reviews all the demonstrations or corollaries of the letter, one will be able to admit or reject the majority of its assertions, in accordance with the interpretation one may make of them. If by 'reality' one means only perfections or positive realities, God is the only true cause; but if that which involves limitations is included under the realities, one will deny a considerable portion of the theses, and the author himself will have shown us the example. It is in order to render the matter more comprehensible that I used in the Essays the example of a laden boat, which, the more laden it is, is the more slowly carried along by the stream. There one sees clearly that the stream is the cause of what is positive in this motion, of the perfection, the force, the speed of the boat, but that the load is the cause of the restriction of this force, and that it brings about the retardation. It is praiseworthy in anyone to attempt to apply the geometrical method to metaphysical matters. But it must be admitted that hitherto success has seldom been attained: and M. Descartes himself, with all that very great skill which one cannot deny in him, never perhaps had less success than when he essayed to do this in one of his answers to objections. For in mathematics it is easier to succeed, because numbers, figures and calculations make good the defects concealed in words; but in metaphysics, where one is deprived of this aid (at least in ordinary [391] argumentation), the strictness employed in the form of the argument and in the exact definitions of the terms must needs supply this lack. But in neither argument nor definition is that strictness here to be seen. The author of the letter, who undoubtedly displays much ardour and penetration, sometimes goes a little too far, as when he claims to prove that there is as much reality and force in rest as in motion, according to the fifth corollary of the second proposition. He asserts that the will of God is no less positive in rest than in motion, and that it is not less invincible. Be it so, but does it follow that there is as much reality and force in each of the two? I do not see this conclusion, and with the same argument one would prove that there is as much force in a strong motion as in a weak motion. God in willing rest wills that the body be at the place A, where it was immediately before, and for that it suffices that there be no reason to prompt God to the change. But when God wills that afterwards the body be at the place B, there must needs be a new reason, of such a kind as to determine God to will that it be in B and not in C or in any other place, and that it be there more or less promptly. It is upon these reasons, the volitions of God, that we must assess the force and the reality existent in things. The author speaks much of the will of God, but he does not speak much in this letter of the reasons which prompt God to will, and upon which all depends. And these reasons are taken from the objects. I observe first, indeed, with regard to the second corollary of the first proposition, that it is very true, but that it is not very well proven. The writer affirms that if God only ceased to will the existence of a being, that being would no longer exist; and here is the proof given word for word: 'Demonstration. That which exists only by the will of God no longer exists once that will has ceased.' (But that is what must be proved. The writer endeavours to prove it by adding:) 'Remove the cause, you remove the effect.' (This maxim ought to have been placed among the axioms which are stated at the beginning. But unhappily this axiom may be reckoned among those rules of philosophy which are subject to many exceptions.) 'Now by the preceding proposition and by its first corollary no being exists save by the will of God. Therefore, etc.' There is ambiguity in this expression, that nothing exists save by the will of God. If one means that things [392] begin to exist only through this will, one is justified in referring to the preceding propositions; but if one means that the existence of things is at all times a consequence of the will of God, one assumes more or less what is in question. Therefore it was necessary to prove first that the existence of things depends upon the will of God, and that it is not only a mere effect of that will, but a dependence, in proportion to the perfection which things contain; and once that is assumed, they will depend upon God's will no less afterwards than at the beginning. That is the way I have taken the matter in my Essays. Nevertheless I recognize that the letter upon which I have just made observations is admirable and well deserving of perusal, and that it contains noble and true sentiments, provided it be taken in the sense I have just indicated. And arguments in this form may serve as an introduction to meditations somewhat more advanced. [393] * * * * * REFLEXIONS ON THE WORK THAT MR. HOBBES PUBLISHED IN ENGLISH ON 'FREEDOM, NECESSITY AND CHANCE' * * * * * 1. As the question of Necessity and Freedom, with other questions depending thereon, was at one time debated between the famous Mr. Hobbes and Dr. John Bramhall, Bishop of Derry, in books published by each of them, I have deemed it appropriate to give a clear account of them (although I have already mentioned them more than once); and this all the more since these writings of Mr. Hobbes have hitherto only appeared in English, and since the works of this author usually contain something good and ingenious. The Bishop of Derry and Mr. Hobbes, having met in Paris at the house of the Marquis, afterwards Duke, of Newcastle in the year 1646, entered into a discussion on this subject. The dispute was conducted with extreme restraint; but the bishop shortly afterwards sent a note to My Lord Newcastle, desiring him to induce Mr. Hobbes to answer it. He answered; but at the same time he expressed a wish that his answer should not be published, because he believed it possible for ill-instructed persons to abuse dogmas such as his, however true they might be. It so happened, however, that Mr. Hobbes himself passed it to a French friend, and allowed a young Englishman to translate it into French for the benefit of this friend. This young man kept a copy of the English original, and published it later in England without the author's knowledge. Thus the bishop was obliged to reply to it, and Mr. Hobbes to make a rejoinder, and to [394] publish all the pieces together in a book of 348 pages printed in London in the year 1656, in 4to., entitled, _Questions concerning Freedom, Necessity and Chance, elucidated and discussed between Doctor Bramhall, Bishop of Derry, and Thomas Hobbes of Malmesbury_. There is a later edition, of the year 1684, in a work entitled _Hobbes's Tripos_, where are to be found his book on human nature, his treatise on the body politic and his treatise on freedom and necessity; but the latter does not contain the bishop's reply, nor the author's rejoinder. Mr. Hobbes argues on this subject with his usual wit and subtlety; but it is a pity that in both the one and the other we stumble upon petty tricks, such as arise in excitement over the game. The bishop speaks with much vehemence and behaves somewhat arrogantly. Mr. Hobbes for his part is not disposed to spare the other, and manifests rather too much scorn for theology, and for the terminology of the Schoolmen, which is apparently favoured by the bishop. 2. One must confess that there is something strange and indefensible in the opinions of Mr. Hobbes. He maintains that doctrines touching the divinity depend entirely upon the determination of the sovereign, and that God is no more the cause of the good than of the bad actions of creatures. He maintains that all that which God does is just, because there is none above him with power to punish and constrain him. Yet he speaks sometimes as if what is said about God were only compliments, that is to say expressions proper for paying him honour, but not for knowing him. He testifies also that it seems to him that the pains of the wicked must end in their destruction: this opinion closely approaches that of the Socinians, but it seems that Mr. Hobbes goes much further. His philosophy, which asserts that bodies alone are substances, hardly appears favourable to the providence of God and the immortality of the soul. On other subjects nevertheless he says very reasonable things. He shows clearly that nothing comes about by chance, or rather that chance only signifies the ignorance of causes that produce the effect, and that for each effect there must be a concurrence of all the sufficient conditions anterior to the event, not one of which, manifestly, can be lacking when the event is to follow, because they are conditions: the event, moreover, does not fail to follow when these conditions exist all together, because they are sufficient conditions. All which amounts to the same as I have said so many times, that everything comes to pass as a result of determining reasons, the knowledge [395] whereof, if we had it, would make us know at the same time why the thing has happened and why it did not go otherwise. 3. But this author's humour, which prompts him to paradoxes and makes him seek to contradict others, has made him draw out exaggerated and odious conclusions and expressions, as if everything happened through an absolute necessity. The Bishop of Derry, on the other hand, has aptly observed in the answer to article 35, page 327, that there results only a hypothetical necessity, such as we all grant to events in relation to the foreknowledge of God, while Mr. Hobbes maintains that even divine foreknowledge alone would be sufficient to establish an absolute necessity of events. This was also the opinion of Wyclif, and even of Luther, when he wrote _De Servo Arbitrio_; or at least they spoke so. But it is sufficiently acknowledged to-day that this kind of necessity which is termed hypothetical, and springs from foreknowledge or from other anterior reasons, has nothing in it to arouse one's alarm: whereas it would be quite otherwise if the thing were necessary of itself, in such a way that the contrary implied contradiction. Mr. Hobbes refuses to listen to anything about a moral necessity either, on the ground that everything really happens through physical causes. But one is nevertheless justified in making a great difference between the necessity which constrains the wise to do good, and which is termed moral, existing even in relation to God, and that blind necessity whereby according to Epicurus, Strato, Spinoza, and perhaps Mr. Hobbes, things exist without intelligence and without choice, and consequently without God. Indeed, there would according to them be no need of God, since in consequence of this necessity all would have existence through its own essence, just as necessarily as two and three make five. And this necessity is absolute, because everything it carries with it must happen, whatever one may do; whereas what happens by a hypothetical necessity happens as a result of the supposition that this or that has been foreseen or resolved, or done beforehand; and moral necessity contains an obligation imposed by reason, which is always followed by its effect in the wise. This kind of necessity is happy and desirable, when one is prompted by good reasons to act as one does; but necessity blind and absolute would subvert piety and morality. 4. There is more reason in Mr. Hobbes's discourse when he admits that [396] our actions are in our power, so that we do that which we will when we have the power to do it, and when there is no hindrance. He asserts notwithstanding that our volitions themselves are not so within our power that we can give ourselves, without difficulty and according to our good pleasure, inclinations and wills which we might desire. The bishop does not appear to have taken notice of this reflexion, which Mr. Hobbes also does not develop enough. The truth is that we have some power also over our volitions, but obliquely, and not absolutely and indifferently. This has been explained in some passages of this work. Finally Mr. Hobbes shows, like others before him, that the certainty of events, and necessity itself, if there were any in the way our actions depend upon causes, would not prevent us from employing deliberations, exhortations, blame and praise, punishments and rewards: for these are of service and prompt men to produce actions or to refrain from them. Thus, if human actions were necessary, they would be so through these means. But the truth is, that since these actions are not necessary absolutely whatever one may do, these means contribute only to render the actions determinate and certain, as they are indeed; for their nature shows that they are not subject to an absolute necessity. He gives also a good enough notion of _freedom_, in so far as it is taken in a general sense, common to intelligent and non-intelligent substances: he states that a thing is deemed free when the power which it has is not impeded by an external thing. Thus the water that is dammed by a dyke has the power to spread, but not the freedom. On the other hand, it has not the power to rise above the dyke, although nothing would prevent it then from spreading, and although nothing from outside prevents it from rising so high. To that end it would be necessary that the water itself should come from a higher point or that the water-level should be raised by an increased flow. Thus a prisoner lacks the freedom, while a sick man lacks the power, to go his way. 5. There is in Mr. Hobbes's preface an abstract of the disputed points, which I will give here, adding some expression of opinion. _On one side_ (he says) the assertion is made, (1) 'that it is not in the present power of man to choose for himself the will that he should have'. That is _well_ said, especially in relation to present will: men choose the objects through will, but they do not choose their present wills, which spring from reasons and dispositions. It is true, however, that one can seek new [397] reasons for oneself, and with time give oneself new dispositions; and by this means one can also obtain for oneself a will which one had not and could not have given oneself forthwith. It is (to use the comparison Mr. Hobbes himself uses) as with hunger or with thirst. At the present it does not rest with my will to be hungry or not; but it rests with my will to eat or not to eat; yet, for the time to come, it rests with me to be hungry, or to prevent myself from being so at such and such an hour of day, by eating beforehand. In this way it is possible often to avoid an evil will. Even though Mr. Hobbes states in his reply (No. 14, p. 138) that it is the manner of laws to say, you must do or you must not do this, but that there is no law saying, you must will, or you must not will it, yet it is clear that he is mistaken in regard to the Law of God, which says _non concupisces_, thou shalt not covet; it is true that this prohibition does not concern the first motions, which are involuntary. It is asserted (2) 'That hazard' (_chance_ in English, _casus_ in Latin) 'produces nothing', that is, that nothing is produced without cause or reason. Very _right_, I admit it, if one thereby intends a real hazard. For fortune and hazard are only appearances, which spring from ignorance of causes or from disregard of them. (3) 'That all events have their necessary causes.' _Wrong_: they have their determining causes, whereby one can account for them; but these are not necessary causes. The contrary might have happened, without implying contradiction. (4) 'That the will of God makes the necessity of all things.' _Wrong_: the will of God produces only contingent things, which could have gone differently, since time, space and matter are indifferent with regard to all kinds of shape and movement. 6. _On the other side_ (according to Mr. Hobbes) it is asserted, (1) 'That man is free' (absolutely) not only 'to choose what he wills to do, but also to choose what he wills to will.' That is _ill_ said: one is not absolute master of one's will, to change it forthwith, without making use of some means or skill for that purpose. (2) 'When man wills a good action, the will of God co-operates with his, otherwise not.' That is _well_ said, provided one means that God does not will evil actions, although he wills to permit them, to prevent the occurrence of something which would be worse than these sins. (3) 'That the will can choose whether it wills to will or not.' _Wrong_, with regard to present volition. (4) 'That things happen without necessity by chance.' _Wrong_: what happens without necessity [398] does not because of that happen by chance, that is to say, without causes and reasons. (5) 'Notwithstanding that God may foresee that an event will happen, it is not necessary that it happen, since God foresees things, not as futurities and as in their causes, but as present.' That begins _well_, and finishes _ill_. One is justified in admitting the necessity of the consequence, but one has no reason to resort to the question how the future is present to God: for the necessity of the consequence does not prevent the event or consequent from being contingent in itself. 7. Our author thinks that since the doctrine revived by Arminius had been favoured in England by Archbishop Laud and by the Court, and important ecclesiastical promotions had been only for those of that party, this contributed to the revolt which caused the bishop and him to meet in their exile in Paris at the house of Lord Newcastle, and to enter into a discussion. I would not approve all the measures of Archbishop Laud, who had merit and perhaps also good will, but who appears to have goaded the Presbyterians excessively. Nevertheless one may say that the revolutions, as much in the Low Countries as in Great Britain, in part arose from the extreme intolerance of the strict party. One may say also that the defenders of the absolute decree were at least as strict as the others, having oppressed their opponents in Holland with the authority of Prince Maurice and having fomented the revolts in England against King Charles I. But these are the faults of men, and not of dogmas. Their opponents do not spare them either, witness the severity used in Saxony against Nicolas Krell and the proceedings of the Jesuits against the Bishop of Ypres's party. 8. Mr. Hobbes observes, after Aristotle, that there are two sources for proofs: reason and authority. As for reason, he says that he admits the reasons derived from the attributes of God, which he calls argumentative, and the notions whereof are conceivable; but he maintains that there are others wherein one conceives nothing, and which are only expressions by which we aspire to honour God. But I do not see how one can honour God by expressions that have no meaning. It may be that with Mr. Hobbes, as with Spinoza, wisdom, goodness, justice are only fictions in relation to God and the universe, since the prime cause, according to them, acts through the necessity of its power, and not by the choice of its wisdom. That is [399] an opinion whose falsity I have sufficiently proved. It appears that Mr. Hobbes did not wish to declare himself enough, for fear of causing offence to people; on which point he is to be commended. It was also on that account, as he says himself, that he had desired that what had passed between the bishop and him in Paris should not be published. He adds that it is not good to say that an action which God does not will happens, since that is to say in effect that God is lacking in power. But he adds also at the same time that it is not good either to say the opposite, and to attribute to God that he wills the evil; because that is not seemly, and would appear to accuse God of lack of goodness. He believes, therefore, that in these matters telling the truth is not advisable. He would be right if the truth were in the paradoxical opinions that he maintains. For indeed it appears that according to the opinion of this writer God has no goodness, or rather that that which he calls God is nothing but the blind nature of the mass of material things, which acts according to mathematical laws, following an absolute necessity, as the atoms do in the system of Epicurus. If God were as the great are sometimes here on earth, it would not be fitting to utter all the truths concerning him. But God is not as a man, whose designs and actions often must be concealed; rather it is always permissible and reasonable to publish the counsels and the actions of God, because they are always glorious and worthy of praise. Thus it is always right to utter truths concerning the divinity; one need not anyhow refrain from fear of giving offence. And I have explained, so it seems to me, in a way which satisfies reason, and does not wound piety, how it is to be understood that God's will takes effect, and concurs with sin, without compromising his wisdom and his goodness. 9. As to the authorities derived from Holy Scripture, Mr. Hobbes divides them into three kinds; some, he says, are for me, the second kind are neutral, and the third seem to be for my opponent. The passages which he thinks favourable to his opinion are those which ascribe to God the cause of our will. Thus Gen. xlv. 5, where Joseph says to his brethren, 'Be not grieved, nor angry with yourselves, that you sold me hither: for God did send me before you to preserve life'; and verse 8, 'it was not you that sent me hither, but God.' And God said (Exod. vii. 3), 'I will harden Pharaoh's heart.' And Moses said (Deut. ii. 30), 'But Sihon King of [400] Heshbon would not let us pass by him: for the Lord thy God hardened his spirit, and made his heart obstinate, that he might deliver him into thy hand.' And David said of Shimei (2 Sam. xvi. 10), 'Let him curse, because the Lord hath said unto him: Curse David. Who shall then say, wherefore hast thou done so?' And (1 Kings xii. 15), 'The King [Rehoboam] hearkened not unto the people; for the cause was from the Lord.' Job xii. 16: 'The deceived and the deceiver are his.' v. 17: 'He maketh the judges fools'; v. 24: 'He taketh away the heart of the chief of the people of the earth, and causeth them to wander in a wilderness'; v. 25: 'He maketh them to stagger like a drunken man.' God said of the King of Assyria (Isa. x. 6), 'Against the people will I give him a charge, to take the spoil, and to take the prey, and to tread them down like the mire of the streets.' And Jeremiah said (Jer. x. 23), 'O Lord, I know that the way of man is not in himself: it is not in man that walketh to direct his steps.' And God said (Ezek. iii. 20), 'When a righteous man doth turn from his righteousness, and commit iniquity, and I lay a stumbling-block before him, he shall die.' And the Saviour said (John vi. 44), 'No man can come to me, except the Father which hath sent me draw him.' And St. Peter (Acts ii. 23), 'Jesus having been delivered by the determinate counsel and foreknowledge of God, ye have taken.' And Acts iv. 27, 28, 'Both Herod and Pontius Pilate, with the Gentiles and the people of Israel, were gathered together, for to do whatsoever thy hand and thy counsel determined before to be done.' And St. Paul (Rom. ix. 16), 'It is not of him that willeth, nor of him that runneth, but of God that showeth mercy.' And v. 18: 'Therefore hath he mercy on whom he will have mercy, and whom he will he hardeneth'; v. 19: 'Thou wilt say then unto me, why doth he yet find fault? For who hath resisted his will?'; v. 20: 'Nay but, O man, who art thou that repliest against God? Shall the thing formed say to him that formed it, why hast thou made me thus?' And 1 Cor. iv. 7: 'For who maketh thee to differ from another? and what hast thou that thou didst not receive?' And 1 Cor. xii. 6: 'There are diversities of operations, but it is the same God which worketh all in all.' And Eph. ii. 10: 'We are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus unto good works, which God hath before ordained that we should walk in them.' And Phil. ii. 13: 'It is God which worketh in you both to will and to do of his good pleasure.' One may add to these passages all those which make God the author of all grace and of all good [401] inclinations, and all those which say that we are as dead in sin. 10. Here now are the neutral passages, according to Mr. Hobbes. These are those where Holy Scripture says that man has the choice to act if he wills, or not to act if he wills not. For example Deut. xxx. 19: 'I call heaven and earth to record this day against you, that I have set before you life and death, blessing and cursing: therefore choose life, that both thou and thy seed may live.' And Joshua xxiv. 15: 'Choose you this day whom ye will serve.' And God said to Gad the prophet (2 Sam. xxiv. 12), 'Go and say unto David: Thus saith the Lord, I offer thee three things; choose thee one of them, that I may do it unto thee.' And Isa. vii. 16: 'Until the child shall know to refuse the evil and choose the good.' Finally the passages which Mr. Hobbes acknowledges to be apparently contrary to his opinion are all those where it is indicated that the will of man is not in conformity with that of God. Thus Isa. v. 4: 'What could have been done more to my vineyard, that I have not done in it? Wherefore, when I looked that it should bring forth grapes, brought it forth wild grapes?' And Jer. xix. 5: 'They have built also the high places of Baal, to burn their sons with fire for burnt offerings unto Baal; which I commanded not, nor spake it, neither came it into my mind.' And Hos. xiii. 9: 'O Israel, thou hast destroyed thyself; but in me is thine help.' And I Tim. ii. 4: 'God will have all men to be saved, and to come unto the knowledge of the truth.' He avows that he could quote very many other passages, such as those which indicate that God willeth not iniquity, that he willeth the salvation of the sinner, and generally all those which declare that God commands good and forbids evil. 11. Mr. Hobbes makes answer to these passages that God does not always will that which he commands, as for example when he commanded Abraham to sacrifice his son, and that God's revealed will is not always his full will or his decree, as when he revealed to Jonah that Nineveh would perish in forty days. He adds also, that when it is said that God wills the salvation of all, that means simply that God commands that all do that which is necessary for salvation; when, moreover, the Scripture says that God wills not sin, that means that he wills to punish it. And as for the rest, Mr. Hobbes ascribes it to the forms of expression used among men. But one will answer him that it would be to God's discredit that his revealed will [402] should be opposed to his real will: that what he bade Jonah say to the Ninevites was rather a threat than a prediction, and that thus the condition of impenitence was implied therein; moreover the Ninevites took it in this sense. One will say also, that it is quite true that God in commanding Abraham to sacrifice his son willed obedience, but did not will action, which he prevented after having obtained obedience; for that was not an action deserving in itself to be willed. And it is not the same in the case of actions where he exerts his will positively, and which are in fact worthy to be the object of his will. Of such are piety, charity and every virtuous action that God commands; of such is omission of sin, a thing more alien to divine perfection than any other. It is therefore incomparably better to explain the will of God as I have explained it in this work. Thus I shall say that God, by virtue of his supreme goodness, has in the beginning a serious inclination to produce, or to see and cause to be produced, all good and every laudable action, and to prevent, or to see and cause to fail, all evil and every bad action. But he is determined by this same goodness, united to an infinite wisdom, and by the very concourse of all the previous and particular inclinations towards each good, and towards the preventing of each evil, to produce the best possible design of things. This is his final and decretory will. And this design of the best being of such a nature that the good must be enhanced therein, as light is enhanced by shade, by some evil which is incomparably less than this good, God could not have excluded this evil, nor introduced certain goods that were excluded from this plan, without wronging his supreme perfection. So for that reason one must say that he permitted the sins of others, because otherwise he would have himself performed an action worse than all the sin of creatures. 12. I find that the Bishop of Derry is at least justified in saying, article XV, in his Reply, p. 153, that the opinion of his opponents is contrary to piety, when they ascribe all to God's power only, and that Mr. Hobbes ought not to have said that honour or worship is only a sign of the power of him whom one honours: for one may also, and one must, acknowledge and honour wisdom, goodness, justice and other perfections. _Magnos facile laudamus, bonos libenter._ This opinion, which despoils God of all goodness and of all true justice, which represents him as a Tyrant, wielding an absolute power, independent of all right and of all equity, and [403] creating millions of creatures to be eternally unhappy, and this without any other aim than that of displaying his power, this opinion, I say, is capable of rendering men very evil; and if it were accepted no other Devil would be needed in the world to set men at variance among themselves and with God; as the Serpent did in making Eve believe that God, when he forbade her the fruit of the tree, did not will her good. Mr. Hobbes endeavours to parry this thrust in his Rejoinder (p. 160) by saying that goodness is a part of the power of God, that is to say, the power of making himself worthy of love. But that is an abuse of terms by an evasion, and confounds things that must be kept distinct. After all, if God does not intend the good of intelligent creatures, if he has no other principles of justice than his power alone, which makes him produce either arbitrarily that which chance presents to him, or by necessity all that which is possible, without the intervention of choice founded on good, how can he make himself worthy of love? It is therefore the doctrine either of blind power or of arbitrary power, which destroys piety: for the one destroys the intelligent principle or the providence of God, the other attributes to him actions which are appropriate to the evil principle. Justice in God, says Mr. Hobbes (p. 161), is nothing but the power he has, which he exercises in distributing blessings and afflictions. This definition surprises me: it is not the power to distribute them, but the will to distribute them reasonably, that is, goodness guided by wisdom, which makes the justice of God. But, says he, justice is not in God as in a man, who is only just through the observance of laws made by his superior. Mr. Hobbes is mistaken also in that, as well as Herr Pufendorf, who followed him. Justice does not depend upon arbitrary laws of superiors, but on the eternal rules of wisdom and of goodness, in men as well as in God. Mr. Hobbes asserts in the same passage that the wisdom which is attributed to God does not lie in a logical consideration of the relation of means to ends, but in an incomprehensible attribute, attributed to an incomprehensible nature to honour it. It seems as if he means that it is an indescribable something attributed to an indescribable something, and even a chimerical quality given to a chimerical substance, to intimidate and to deceive the nations through the worship which they render to it. After all, it is difficult for Mr. Hobbes to have a different opinion of God and of wisdom, since he admits only material substances. If Mr. Hobbes were still alive, I would beware of ascribing to him opinions which might do him injury; but it [404] is difficult to exempt him from this. He may have changed his mind subsequently, for he attained to a great age; thus I hope that his errors may not have been deleterious to him. But as they might be so to others, it is expedient to give warnings to those who shall read the writings of one who otherwise is of great merit, and from whom one may profit in many ways. It is true that God does not reason, properly speaking, using time as we do, to pass from one truth to the other: but as he understands at one and the same time all the truths and all their connexions, he knows all the conclusions, and he contains in the highest degree within himself all the reasonings that we can develop. And just because of that his wisdom is perfect. [405] * * * * * OBSERVATIONS ON THE BOOK CONCERNING 'THE ORIGIN OF EVIL' PUBLISHED RECENTLY IN LONDON * * * * * 1. It is a pity that M. Bayle should have seen only the reviews of this admirable work, which are to be found in the journals. If he had read it himself and examined it properly, he would have provided us with a good opportunity of throwing light on many difficulties, which spring again and again like the head of the hydra, in a matter where it is easy to become confused when one has not seen the whole system or does not take the trouble to reason according to a strict plan. For strictness of reasoning performs in subjects that transcend imagination the same function as figures do in geometry: there must always be something capable of fixing our attention and forming a connexion between our thoughts. That is why when this Latin book, so learned and so elegant of style, printed originally in London and then reprinted in Bremen, fell into my hands, I judged that the seriousness of the matter and the author's merit required an attention which readers might fairly expect of me, since we are agreed only in regard to half of the subject. Indeed, as the work contains five chapters, and the fifth with the appendix equals the rest in size, I have observed that the first four, where it is a question of evil in general and of physical evil in particular, are in harmony with my principles (save for a few individual passages), and that they sometimes even develop with force and eloquence some points I had treated but slightly because M. Bayle [406] had not placed emphasis upon them. But the fifth chapter, with its sections (of which some are equal to entire chapters) speaking of freedom and of the moral evil dependent upon it, is constructed upon principles opposed to mine, and often, indeed, to those of M. Bayle; that is, if it were possible to credit him with any fixed principles. For this fifth chapter tends to show (if that were possible) that true freedom depends upon an indifference of equipoise, vague, complete and absolute; so that, until the will has determined itself, there would be no reason for its determination, either in him who chooses or in the object; and one would not choose what pleases, but in choosing without reason one would cause what one chooses to be pleasing. 2. This principle of choice without cause or reason, of a choice, I say, divested of the aim of wisdom and goodness, is regarded by many as the great privilege of God and of intelligent substances, and as the source of their freedom, their satisfaction, their morality and their good or evil. The fantasy of a power to declare one's independence, not only of inclination, but of reason itself within and of good and evil without, is sometimes painted in such fine colours that one might take it to be the most excellent thing in the world. Nevertheless it is only a hollow fantasy, a suppression of the reasons for the caprice of which one boasts. What is asserted is impossible, but if it came to pass it would be harmful. This fantastic character might be attributed to some Don Juan in a St. Peter's Feast, and a man of romantic disposition might even affect the outward appearances of it and persuade himself that he has it in reality. But in Nature there will never be any choice to which one is not prompted by the previous representation of good or evil, by inclinations or by reasons: and I have always challenged the supporters of this absolute indifference to show an example thereof. Nevertheless if I call fantastic this choice whereto one is determined by nothing, I am far from calling visionaries the supporters of that hypothesis, especially our gifted author. The Peripatetics teach some beliefs of this nature; but it would be the greatest injustice in the world to be ready to despise on that account an Occam, a Suisset, a Cesalpino, a Conringius, men who still advocated certain scholastic opinions which have been improved upon to-day. 3. One of these opinions, revived, however, and introduced by [407] degenerate scholasticism, and in the Age of Chimeras, is vague indifference of choice, or real chance, assumed in our souls; as if nothing gave us any inclination unless we perceived it distinctly, and as if an effect could be without causes, when these causes are imperceptible. It is much as some have denied the existence of insensible corpuscles because they do not see them. Modern philosophers have improved upon the opinions of the Schoolmen by showing that, according to the laws of corporeal nature, a body can only be set in motion by the movement of another body propelling it. Even so we must believe that our souls (by virtue of the laws of spiritual nature) can only be moved by some reason of good or evil: and this even when no distinct knowledge can be extracted from our mental state, on account of a concourse of innumerable little perceptions which make us now joyful and now sad, or again of some other humour, and cause us to like one thing more than another without its being possible to say why. Plato, Aristotle and even Thomas Aquinas, Durand and other Schoolmen of the sounder sort reason on that question like the generality of men, and as unprejudiced people always have reasoned. They assume that freedom lies in the use of reason and the inclinations, which cause the choice or rejection of objects. But finally some rather too subtle philosophers have extracted from their alembic an inexplicable notion of choice independent of anything whatsoever, which is said to do wonders in solving all difficulties. But the notion is caught up at the outset in one of the greatest difficulties, by offending against the grand principle of reasoning which makes us always assume that nothing is done without some sufficient cause or reason. As the Schoolmen often forgot to apply this great principle, admitting certain prime occult qualities, one need not wonder if this fiction of vague indifference met with applause amongst them, and if even most worthy men have been imbued therewith. Our author, who is otherwise rid of many of the errors of the ordinary Schoolmen, is still deluded by this fiction: but he is without doubt one of the most skilful of those who have supported it. _Si Pergama dextra_ _Defendi possent, etiam hac defensa fuissent._ He gives it the best possible turn, and only shows it on its good side. He knows how to strip spontaneity and reason of their advantages, [408] transferring all these to vague indifference: only through this indifference is one active, resisting the passions, taking pleasure in one's choice, or being happy; it appears indeed that one would be miserable if some happy necessity should oblige us to choose aright. Our author had said admirable things on the origin and reasons of natural evils: he only had to apply the same principles to moral evil; indeed, he believes himself that moral evil becomes an evil through the physical evils that it causes or tends to cause. But somehow or other he thinks that it would be a degradation of God and men if they were to be made subject to reason; that thus they would all be rendered passive to it and would no longer be satisfied with themselves; in short that men would have nothing wherewith to oppose the misfortunes that come to them from without, if they had not within them this admirable privilege of rendering things good or tolerable by choosing them, and of changing all into gold by the touch of this wondrous faculty. 4. We will examine it in closer detail presently; but it will be well to profit beforehand by the excellent ideas of our author on the nature of things and on natural evils, particularly since there are some points in which we shall be able to go a little further: by this means also we shall gain a better understanding of the whole arrangement of his system. The first chapter contains the principles. The writer calls substance a being the idea of which does not involve the existence of another. I do not know if there are any such among created beings, by reason of the connexion existing between all things; and the example of a wax torch is not the example of a substance, any more than that of a swarm of bees would be. But one may take the terms in an extended sense. He observes aptly that after all the changes of matter and after all the qualities of which it may be divested, there remain extension, mobility, divisibility and resistance. He explains also the nature of notions, and leaves it to be understood that _universals_ indicate only the resemblances which exist between _individuals_; that we understand by _ideas_ only that which is known through an immediate sensation, and that the rest is known to us only through relations with these ideas. But when he admits that we have no idea of God, of spirit, of substance, he does not appear to have observed sufficiently that we have immediate apperception of substance and of spirit in our apperception of ourselves, and that the idea of God is found in[409] the idea of ourselves through a suppression of the limits of our perfections, as extension taken in an absolute sense is comprised in the idea of a globe. He is right also in asserting that our simple ideas at least are innate, and in rejecting the _Tabula rasa_ of Aristotle and of Mr. Locke. But I cannot agree with him that our ideas have scarce any more relation to things than words uttered into the air or writings traced upon paper have to our ideas, and that the bearing of our sensations is arbitrary and _ex instituto_, like the signification of words. I have already indicated elsewhere why I am not in agreement with our Cartesians on that point. 5. For the purpose of advancing to the first Cause, the author seeks a criterion, a distinguishing mark of truth; and he finds it in the force whereby our inward assertions, when they are evident, compel the understanding to give them its consent. It is by such a process, he says, that we credit the senses. He points out that the distinguishing mark in the Cartesian scheme, to wit, a clear and distinct perception, has need of a new mark to indicate what is clear and distinct, and that the congruity or non-congruity of ideas (or rather of terms, as one spoke formerly) may still be deceptive, because there are congruities real and apparent. He appears to recognize even that the inward force which constrains us to give our assent is still a matter for caution, and may come from deep-rooted prejudices. That is why he confesses that he who should furnish another criterion would have found something very advantageous to the human race. I have endeavoured to explain this criterion in a little _Discourse on Truth and Ideas_, published in 1684; and although I do not boast of having given therein a new discovery I hope that I have expounded things which were only confusedly recognized. I distinguish between truths of fact and truths of reason. Truths of fact can only be verified by confronting them with truths of reason, and by tracing them back to immediate perceptions within us, such as St. Augustine and M. Descartes very promptly acknowledged to be indubitable; that is to say, we cannot doubt that we think, nor indeed that we think this thing or that. But in order to judge whether our inward notions have any reality in things, and to pass from thoughts to objects, my opinion is that it is necessary to consider whether our perceptions are firmly connected among themselves and with others that we have had, in such fashion as to manifest the rules of mathematics and other truths of [410] reason. In this case one must regard them as real; and I think that it is the only means of distinguishing them from imaginations, dreams and visions. Thus the truth of things outside us can be recognized only through the connexion of phenomena. The criterion of the truths of reason, or those which spring from conceptions, is found in an exact use of the rules of logic. As for ideas or notions, I call _real_ all those the possibility of which is certain; and the _definitions_ which do not mark this possibility are only _nominal_. Geometricians well versed in analysis are aware what difference there is in this respect between several properties by which some line or figure might be defined. Our gifted author has not gone so far, perhaps; one may see, however, from the account I have given of him already, and from what follows, that he is by no means lacking in profundity or reflexion. 6. Thereafter he proceeds to examine whether motion, matter and space spring from themselves; and to that end he considers whether it is possible to conceive that they do not exist. He remarks upon this privilege of God, that as soon as it is assumed that he exists it must be admitted that he exists of necessity. This is a corollary to a remark which I made in the little discourse mentioned above, namely that as soon as one admits that God is possible, one must admit that he exists of necessity. Now, as soon as one admits that God exists, one admits that he is possible. Therefore as soon as one admits that God exists, one must admit that he exists of necessity. Now this privilege does not belong to the three things of which we have just spoken. The author believes also especially concerning motion, that it is not sufficient to say, with Mr. Hobbes, that the present movement comes from an anterior movement, and this one again from another, and so on to infinity. For, however far back you may go, you will not be one whit nearer to finding the reason which causes the presence of motion in matter. Therefore this reason must be outside the sequence; and even if there were an eternal motion, it would require an eternal motive power. So the rays of the sun, even though they were eternal with the sun, would nevertheless have their eternal cause in the sun. I am well pleased to recount these arguments of our gifted author, that it may be seen how important, according to him, is the principle of sufficient reason. For, if it is permitted to admit something for which it is acknowledged there is no reason, it will be easy for an atheist to overthrow this argument, by [411] saying that it is not necessary that there be a sufficient reason for the existence of motion. I will not enter into the discussion of the reality and the eternity of space, for fear of straying too far from our subject. It is enough to state that the author believes that space can be annihilated by the divine power, but in entirety and not in portions, and that we could exist alone with God even if there were neither space nor matter, since we do not contain within ourselves the notion of the existence of external things. He also puts forward the consideration that in the sensations of sounds, of odours and of savours the idea of space is not included. But whatever the opinion formed as to space, it suffices that there is a God, the cause of matter and of motion, and in short of all things. The author believes that we can reason about God, as one born blind would reason about light. But I hold that there is something more in us, for our light is a ray from God's light. After having spoken of some attributes of God, the author acknowledges that God acts for an end, which is the communication of his goodness, and that his works are ordered aright. Finally he concludes this chapter very properly, by saying that God in creating the world was at pains to give it the greatest harmony amongst things, the greatest comfort of beings endowed with reason, and the greatest compatibility in desires that an infinite power, wisdom and goodness combined could produce. He adds that, if some evil has remained notwithstanding, one must believe that these infinite divine perfections could not have (I would rather say ought not to have) taken it away. 7. Chapter II anatomizes evil, dividing it as we do into metaphysical, physical and moral. Metaphysical evil consists in imperfections, physical evil in suffering and other like troubles, and moral evil in sin. All these evils exist in God's work; Lucretius thence inferred that there is no providence, and he denied that the world can be an effect of divinity: _Naturam rerum divinitus esse creatam;_ because there are so many faults in the nature of things, _quoniam tanta stat praedita culpa._ Others have admitted two principles, the one good, the other evil. There have also been people who thought the difficulty insurmountable, and among these our author appears to have had M. Bayle in mind. He hopes to [412] show in his work that it is not a Gordian knot, which needs to be cut; and he says rightly that the power, the wisdom and the goodness of God would not be infinite and perfect in their exercise if these evils had been banished. He begins with the evil of imperfection in Chapter III and observes, as St. Augustine does, that creatures are imperfect, since they are derived from nothingness, whereas God producing a perfect substance from his own essence would have made thereof a God. This gives him occasion for making a little digression against the Socinians. But someone will say, why did not God refrain from producing things, rather than make imperfect things? The author answers appositely that the abundance of the goodness of God is the cause. He wished to communicate himself at the expense of a certain fastidiousness which we assume in God, imagining that imperfections offend him. Thus he preferred that there should be the imperfect rather than nothing. But one might have added that God has produced indeed the most perfect whole that was possible, one wherewith he had full cause for satisfaction, the imperfections of the parts serving a greater perfection in the whole. Also the observation is made soon afterwards, that certain things might have been made better, but not without other new and _perhaps_ greater disadvantages. This _perhaps_ could have been omitted: for the author also states as a certainty, and rightly so, at the end of the chapter, _that it appertains to infinite goodness to choose the best_; and thus he was able to draw this conclusion a little earlier, that imperfect things will be added to those more perfect, so long as they do not preclude the existence of the more perfect in as great a number as possible. Thus bodies were created as well as spirits, since the one does not offer any obstacle to the other; and the creation of matter was not unworthy of the great God, as some heretics of old believed, attributing this work to a certain Demogorgon. 8. Let us now proceed to physical evil, which is treated of in Chapter IV. Our famous author, having observed that metaphysical evil, or imperfection, springs from nothingness, concludes that physical evil, or discomfort, springs from matter, or rather from its movement; for without movement matter would be useless. Moreover there must be contrariety in these movements; otherwise, if all went together in the same direction, there would be neither variety nor generation. But the movements that cause [413] generations cause also corruptions, since from the variety of movements comes concussion between bodies, by which they are often dissipated and destroyed. The Author of Nature however, in order to render bodies more enduring, distributed them into _systems_, those which we know being composed of luminous and opaque balls, in a manner so excellent and so fitting for the display of that which they contain, and for arousing wonder thereat, that we can conceive of nothing more beautiful. But the crowning point of the work was the construction of animals, to the end that everywhere there should be creatures capable of cognition, _Ne regio foret ulla suis animalibus orba._ Our sagacious author believes that the air and even the purest aether have their denizens as well as the water and the earth. But supposing that there were places without animals, these places might have uses necessary for other places which are inhabited. So for example the mountains, which render the surface of our globe unequal and sometimes desert and barren, are of use for the production of rivers and of winds; and we have no cause to complain of sands and marshes, since there are so many places still remaining to be cultivated. Moreover, it must not be supposed that all is made for man alone: and the author is persuaded that there are not only pure spirits but also immortal animals of a nature akin to these spirits, that is, animals whose souls are united to an ethereal and incorruptible matter. But it is not the same with animals whose body is terrestrial, composed of tubes and fluids which circulate therein, and whose motion is terminated by the breaking of the vessels. Thence the author is led to believe that the immortality granted to Adam, if he had been obedient, would not have been an effect of his nature, but of the grace of God. 9. Now it was necessary for the conservation of corruptible animals that they should have indications causing them to recognize a present danger, and giving them the inclination to avoid it. That is why what is about to cause a great injury must beforehand cause pain such as may force the animal to efforts capable of repulsing or shunning the cause of this discomfort, and of forestalling a greater evil. The dread of death helps also to cause its avoidance: for it if were not so ugly and if the dissolution of continuity were not so painful, very often animals would take no precautions against perishing, or allowing the parts of their [414] body to perish, and the strongest would have difficulty in subsisting for a whole day. God has also given hunger and thirst to animals, to compel them to feed and maintain themselves by replacing that which is used up and which disappears imperceptibly. These appetites are of use also to prompt them to work, in order to procure a nourishment meet for their constitution, and which may avail to invigorate them. It was even found necessary by the Author of things that one animal very often should serve as food for another. This hardly renders the victim more unhappy, since death caused by diseases is generally just as painful as a violent death, if not more so; and animals subject to being preyed upon by others, having neither foresight nor anxiety for the future, have a life no less tranquil when they are not in danger. It is the same with inundations, earthquakes, thunderbolts and other disorders, which brute beasts do not fear, and which men have ordinarily no cause to fear, since there are few that suffer thereby. 10. The Author of Nature has compensated for these evils and others, which happen only seldom, with a thousand advantages that are ordinary and constant. Hunger and thirst augment the pleasure experienced in the taking of nourishment. Moderate work is an agreeable exercise of the animal's powers; and sleep is also agreeable in an altogether opposite way, restoring the forces through repose. But one of the pleasures most intense is that which prompts animals to propagation. God, having taken care to ensure that the species should be immortal, since the individual cannot be so here on earth, also willed that animals should have a great tenderness for their little ones, even to the point of endangering themselves for their preservation. From pain and from sensual pleasure spring fear, cupidity and the other passions that are ordinarily serviceable, although it may accidentally happen that they sometimes turn towards ill: one must say as much of poisons, epidemic diseases and other hurtful things, namely that these are indispensable consequences of a well-conceived system. As for ignorance and errors, it must be taken into account that the most perfect creatures are doubtless ignorant of much, and that knowledge is wont to be proportionate to needs. Nevertheless it is necessary that one be exposed to hazards which cannot be foreseen, and accidents of such kinds are inevitable. One must often be mistaken in one's judgement, because it is not always permitted to suspend it long enough for exact [415] consideration. These disadvantages are inseparable from the system of things: for things must very often resemble one another in a certain situation, the one being taken for the other. But the inevitable errors are not the most usual, nor the most pernicious. Those which cause us the most harm are wont to arise through our fault; and consequently one would be wrong to make natural evils a pretext for taking one's own life, since one finds that those who have done so have generally been prompted to such action by voluntary evils. 11. After all, one finds that all these evils of which we have spoken come accidentally from good causes; and there is reason to infer concerning all we do not know, from all we do know, that one could not have done away with them without falling into greater troubles. For the better understanding of this the author counsels us to picture the world as a great building. There must be not only apartments, halls, galleries, gardens, grottoes, but also the kitchen, the cellar, the poultry-yard, stables, drainage. Thus it would not have been proper to make only suns in the world, or to make an earth all of gold and of diamonds, but not habitable. If man had been all eye or all ear, he would not have been fitted for feeding himself. If God had made him without passions, he would have made him stupid; and if he had wished to make man free from error he would have had to deprive him of senses, or give him powers of sensation through some other means than organs, that is to say, there would not have been any man. Our learned author remarks here upon an idea which histories both sacred and profane appear to inculcate, namely that wild beasts, poisonous plants and other natures that are injurious to us have been armed against us by sin. But as he argues here only in accordance with the principles of reason he sets aside what Revelation can teach. He believes, however, that Adam would have been exempted from natural evils (if he had been obedient) only by virtue of divine grace and of a covenant made with God, and that Moses expressly indicates only about seven effects of the first sin. These effects are: 1. The revocation of the gracious gift of immortality. 2. The sterility of the earth, which was no longer to be fertile of itself, save in evil or useless herbs. 3. The rude toil one must exercise in order to gain sustenance. 4. The subjection of the woman to the will of the husband. [416] 5. The pains of childbirth. 6. The enmity between man and the serpent. 7. The banishment of man from the place of delight wherein God had placed him. But our author thinks that many of our evils spring from the necessity of matter, especially since the withdrawal of grace. Moreover, it seems to him that after our banishment immortality would be only a burden to us, and that it is perhaps more for our good than to punish us that the tree of life has become inaccessible to us. On one point or another one might have something to say in objection, but the body of the discourse by our author on the origin of evils is full of good and sound reflexions, which I have judged it advisable to turn to advantage. Now I must pass on to the subject of our controversy, that is, the explanation of the nature of freedom. 12. The learned author of this work on the origin of evil, proposing to explain the origin of moral evil in the fifth chapter, which makes up half of the whole book, considers that it is altogether different from that of physical evil, which lies in the inevitable imperfection of creatures. For, as we shall see presently, it appears to him that moral evil comes rather from that which he calls a perfection, which the creature has in common, according to him, with the Creator, that is to say, in the power of choosing without any motive and without any final or impelling cause. It is a very great paradox to assert that the greatest imperfection, namely sin, springs from perfection itself. But it is no less a paradox to present as a perfection the thing which is the least reasonable in the world, the advantage whereof would consist in being privileged against reason. And that, after all, rather than pointing out the source of the evil, would be to contend that it has none. For if the will makes its resolve without the existence of anything, either in the person who chooses or in the object which is chosen, to prompt it to the choice, there will be neither cause nor reason for this election; and as moral evil consists in the wrong choice, that is admitting that moral evil has no source at all. Thus in the rules of good metaphysics there would have to be no moral evil in Nature; and also for the same reason there would be no moral good either, and all morality would be destroyed. But we must listen to our gifted author, from whom the subtlety of an opinion maintained by famous philosophers among the Schoolmen, and the adornments that he has added thereto himself by his[417] wit and his eloquence, have hidden the great disadvantages contained therein. In setting forth the position reached in the controversy, he divides the writers into two parties. The one sort, he says, are content to say that the freedom of the will is exempt from outward constraint; and the other sort maintain that it is also exempt from inward necessity. But this exposition does not suffice, unless one distinguish the necessity that is absolute and contrary to morality from hypothetical necessity and moral necessity, as I have already explained in many places. 13. The first section of this chapter is to indicate the nature of choice. The author sets forth in the first place the opinion of those who believe that the will is prompted by the judgement of the understanding, or by anterior inclinations of the desires, to resolve upon the course that it adopts. But he confuses these authors with those who assert that the will is prompted to its resolution by an absolute necessity, and who maintain that the person who wills has no power over his volitions: that is, he confuses a Thomist with a Spinozist. He makes use of the admissions and the odious declarations of Mr. Hobbes and his like, to lay them to the charge of those who are infinitely far removed from them, and who take great care to refute them. He lays these things to their charge because they believe, as Mr. Hobbes believes, like everyone else (save for some doctors who are enveloped in their own subtleties), that the will is moved by the representation of good and evil. Thence he imputes to them the opinion that there is therefore no such thing as contingency, and that all is connected by an absolute necessity. That is a very speedy manner of reasoning; yet he adds also, that properly speaking there will be no evil will, since if there were, all one could object to therein would be the evil which it can cause. That, he says, is different from the common notion, since the world censures the wicked not because they do harm, but because they do harm without necessity. He holds also that the wicked would be only unfortunate and by no means culpable; that there would be no difference between physical evil and moral evil, since man himself would not be the true cause of an action which he could not avoid; that evil-doers would not be either blamed or maltreated because they deserve it, but because that action may serve to turn people away from evil; again, for this reason only one would find fault with a rogue, but not with a sick man, that reproaches and [418] threats can correct the one, and cannot cure the other. And further, according to this doctrine, chastisements would have no object save the prevention of future evil, without which the mere consideration of the evil already done would not be sufficient for punishment. Likewise gratitude would have as its sole aim that of procuring a fresh benefit, without which the mere consideration of the past benefit would not furnish a sufficient reason. Finally the author thinks that if this doctrine, which derives the resolution of the will from the representation of good and evil, were true, one must despair of human felicity, since it would not be in our power, and would depend upon things which are outside us. Now as there is no ground for hoping that things from outside will order themselves and agree together in accordance with our wishes, there will always lack something to us, and there will always be something too much. All these conclusions hold, according to him, against those also who think that the will makes its resolve in accordance with the final judgement of the understanding, an opinion which, as he considers, strips the will of its right and renders the soul quite passive. This accusation is also directed against countless serious writers, of accepted authority, who are here placed in the same class with Mr. Hobbes and Spinoza, and with some other discredited authors, whose doctrine is considered odious and insupportable. As for me, I do not require the will always to follow the judgement of the understanding, because I distinguish this judgement from the motives that spring from insensible perceptions and inclinations. But I hold that the will always follows the most advantageous representation, whether distinct or confused, of the good or the evil resulting from reasons, passions and inclinations, although it may also find motives for suspending its judgement. But it is always upon motives that it acts. 14. It will be necessary to answer these objections to my opinion before proceeding to establish that of our author. The misapprehension of my opponents originates in their confusing a consequence which is necessary absolutely, whose contrary implies contradiction, with a consequence which is founded only upon truths of fitness, and nevertheless has its effect. To put it otherwise, there is a confusion between what depends upon the principle of contradiction, which makes necessary and indispensable truths, and what depends upon the principle of the sufficient reason, which [419] applies also to contingent truths. I have already elsewhere stated this proposition, which is one of the most important in philosophy, pointing out that there are two great principles, namely, _that of identicals or of contradiction_, which states that of two contradictory enunciations the one is true and the other false, and _that of the sufficient reason_, which states that there is no true enunciation whose reason could not be seen by one possessing all the knowledge necessary for its complete understanding. Both principles must hold not only in necessary but also in contingent truths; and it is even necessary that that which has no sufficient reason should not exist. For one may say in a sense that these two principles are contained in the definition of the true and the false. Nevertheless, when in making the analysis of the truth submitted one sees it depending upon truths whose contrary implies contradiction, one may say that it is absolutely necessary. But when, while pressing the analysis to the furthest extent, one can never attain to such elements of the given truth, one must say that it is contingent, and that it originates from a prevailing reason which inclines without necessitating. Once that is granted, it is seen how we can say with sundry famous philosophers and theologians, that the thinking substance is prompted to its resolution by the prevailing representation of good or of evil, and this certainly and infallibly, but not necessarily, that is, by reasons which incline it without necessitating it. That is why contingent futurities, foreseen both in themselves and through their reasons, remain contingent. God was led infallibly by his wisdom and by his goodness to create the world through his power, and to give it the best possible form; but he was not led thereto of necessity, and the whole took place without any diminution of his perfect and supreme wisdom. And I do not know if it would be easy, apart from the reflexions we have just entertained, to untie the Gordian knot of contingency and freedom. 15. This explanation dismisses all the objections of our gifted opponent. In the first place, it is seen that contingency exists together with freedom. Secondly, evil wills are evil not only because they do harm, but also because they are a source of harmful things, or of physical evils, a wicked spirit being, in the sphere of its activity, what the evil principle of the Manichaeans would be in the universe. Moreover, the author has observed (ch. 4, sect. 4, § 8) that divine wisdom has usually forbidden actions which would cause discomforts, that is to say, physical evils.[420] It is agreed that he who causes evil by necessity is not culpable. But there is neither legislator nor lawyer who by this necessity means the force of the considerations of good or evil, real or apparent, that have prompted man to do ill: else anyone stealing a great sum of money or killing a powerful man in order to attain to high office would be less deserving of punishment than one who should steal a few halfpence for a mug of beer or wantonly kill his neighbour's dog, since these latter were tempted less. But it is quite the opposite in the administration of justice which is authorized in the world: for the greater is the temptation to sin, the more does it need to be repressed by the fear of a great chastisement. Besides, the greater the calculation evident in the design of an evil-doer, the more will it be found that the wickedness has been deliberate, and the more readily will one decide that it is great and deserving of punishment. Thus a too artful fraud causes the aggravating crime called _stellionate_, and a cheat becomes a forger when he has the cunning to sap the very foundations of our security in written documents. But one will have greater indulgence for a great passion, because it is nearer to madness. The Romans punished with the utmost severity the priests of the God Apis, when these had prostituted the chastity of a noble lady to a knight who loved her to distraction, making him pass as their god; while it was found enough to send the lover into exile. But if someone had done evil deeds without apparent reason and without appearance of passion the judge would be tempted to take him for a madman, especially if it proved that he was given to committing such extravagances often: this might tend towards reduction of the penalty, rather than supplying the true grounds of wickedness and punishment. So far removed are the principles of our opponents from the practice of the tribunals and from the general opinion of men. 16. Thirdly, the distinction between physical evil and moral evil will still remain, although there be this in common between them, that they have their reasons and causes. And why manufacture new difficulties for oneself concerning the origin of moral evil, since the principle followed in the solution of those which natural evils have raised suffices also to account for voluntary evils? That is to say, it suffices to show that one could not have prevented men from being prone to errors, without changing the [421] constitution of the best of systems or without employing miracles at every turn. It is true that sin makes up a large portion of human wretchedness, and even the largest; but that does not prevent one from being able to say that men are wicked and deserving of punishment: else one must needs say that the actual sins of the non-regenerate are excusable, because they spring from the first cause of our wretchedness, which is original sin. Fourthly, to say that the soul becomes passive and that man is not the true cause of sin, if he is prompted to his voluntary actions by their objects, as our author asserts in many passages, and particularly ch. 5, sect. 1, sub-sect. 3, § 18, is to create for oneself new senses for terms. When the ancients spoke of that which is [Greek: eph' hêmin], or when we speak of that which depends upon us, of spontaneity, of the inward principle of our actions, we do not exclude the representation of external things; for these representations are in our souls, they are a portion of the modifications of this active principle which is within us. No agent is capable of acting without being _predisposed_ to what the action demands; and the reasons or inclinations derived from good or evil are the dispositions that enable the soul to decide between various courses. One will have it that the will is alone active and supreme, and one is wont to imagine it to be like a queen seated on her throne, whose minister of state is the understanding, while the passions are her courtiers or favourite ladies, who by their influence often prevail over the counsel of her ministers. One will have it that the understanding speaks only at this queen's order; that she can vacillate between the arguments of the minister and the suggestions of the favourites, even rejecting both, making them keep silence or speak, and giving them audience or not as seems good to her. But it is a personification or mythology somewhat ill-conceived. If the will is to judge, or take cognizance of the reasons and inclinations which the understanding or the senses offer it, it will need another understanding in itself, to understand what it is offered. The truth is that the soul, or the thinking substance, understands the reasons and feels the inclinations, and decides according to the predominance of the representations modifying its active force, in order to shape the action. I have no need here to apply my system of Pre-established Harmony, which shows our independence to the best advantage and frees us from the physical influence of objects. For what I have just said is sufficient to answer the objection. Our [422] author, even though he admits with people in general this physical influence of objects upon us, observes nevertheless with much perspicacity that the body or the objects of the senses do not even give us our ideas, much less the active force of our soul, and that they serve only to draw out that which is within us. This is much in the spirit of M. Descartes' belief that the soul, not being able to give force to the body, gives it at least some direction. It is a mean between one side and the other, between physical influence and Pre-established Harmony. 17. Fifthly, the objection is made that, according to my opinion, sin would neither be censured nor punished because of its deserts, but because the censure and the chastisement serve to prevent it another time; whereas men demand something more, namely, satisfaction for the crime, even though it should serve neither for amendment nor for example. So do men with reason demand that true gratitude should come from a true recognition of the past benefit, and not from the interested aim of extorting a fresh benefit. This objection contains noble and sound considerations, but it does not strike at me. I require a man to be virtuous, grateful, just, not only from the motive of interest, of hope or of fear, but also of the pleasure that he should find in good actions: else one has not yet reached the degree of virtue that one must endeavour to attain. That is what one means by saying that justice and virtue must be loved for their own sake; and it is also what I explained in justifying 'disinterested love', shortly before the opening of the controversy which caused so much stir. Likewise I consider that wickedness is all the greater when its practice becomes a pleasure, as when a highwayman, after having killed men because they resist, or because he fears their vengeance, finally grows cruel and takes pleasure in killing them, and even in making them suffer beforehand. Such a degree of wickedness is taken to be diabolical, even though the man affected with it finds in this execrable indulgence a stronger reason for his homicides than he had when he killed simply under the influence of hope or of fear. I have also observed in answering the difficulties of M. Bayle that, according to the celebrated Conringius, justice which punishes by means of _medicinal_ penalties, so to speak, that is, in order to correct the criminal or at least to provide an example for others, might exist in the opinion of those who do away with the freedom that is exempt from necessity. True [423] retributive justice, on the other hand, going beyond the medicinal, assumes something more, namely, intelligence and freedom in him who sins, because the harmony of things demands a satisfaction, or evil in the form of suffering, to make the mind feel its error after the voluntary active evil whereto it has consented. Mr. Hobbes also, who does away with freedom, has rejected retributive justice, as do the Socinians, drawing on themselves the condemnation of our theologians; although the writers of the Socinian party are wont to exaggerate the idea of freedom. 18. Sixthly, the objection is finally made that men cannot hope for felicity if the will can only be actuated by the representation of good and evil. But this objection seems to me completely null and void, and I think it would be hard to guess how any tolerable interpretation was ever put upon it. Moreover, the line of reasoning adopted to prove it is of a most astounding nature: it is that our felicity depends upon external things, if it is true that it depends upon the representation of good or evil. It is therefore not in our own power, so it is said, for we have no ground for hoping that outward things will arrange themselves for our pleasure. This argument is halting from every aspect. _There is no force in the inference: one might grant the conclusion: the argument may be retorted upon the author_. Let us begin with the retort, which is easy. For are men any happier or more independent of the accidents of fortune upon this argument, or because they are credited with the advantage of choosing without reason? Have they less bodily suffering? Have they less tendency toward true or apparent goods, less fear of true or imaginary evils? Are they any less enslaved by sensual pleasure, by ambition, by avarice? less apprehensive? less envious? Yes, our gifted author will say; I will prove it by a method of counting or assessment. I would rather he had proved it by experience; but let us see this proof by counting. Suppose that by my choice, which enables me to give goodness-for-me to that which I choose, I give to the object chosen six degrees of goodness, when previously there were two degrees of evil in my condition; I shall become happy all at once, and with perfect ease, for I should have four degrees surplus, or net good. Doubtless that is all very well; but unfortunately it is impossible. For what possibility is there of giving these six degrees of goodness to the object? To that end we must needs have the power to change our taste, or the things, as we please. That would be almost as if I could say to [424] lead, Thou shalt be gold, and make it so; to the pebble, Thou shalt be diamond; or at the least, Thou shalt look like it. Or it would be like the common explanation of the Mosaical passage which seems to say that the desert manna assumed any taste the Israelites desired to give to it. They only had to say to their homerful, Thou shalt be a capon, thou shalt be a partridge. But if I am free to give these six degrees of goodness to the object, am I not permitted to give it more goodness? I think that I am. But if that is so, why shall we not give to the object all the goodness conceivable? Why shall we not even go as far as twenty-four carats of goodness? By this means behold us completely happy, despite the accidents of fortune; it may blow, hail or snow, and we shall not mind: by means of this splendid secret we shall be always shielded against fortuitous events. The author agrees (in this first section of the fifth chapter, sub-sect. 3, § 12) that this power overcomes all the natural appetites and cannot be overcome by any of them; and he regards it (§§ 20, 21, 22) as the soundest foundation for happiness. Indeed, since there is nothing capable of limiting a power so indeterminate as that of choosing without any reason, and of giving goodness to the object through the choice, either this goodness must exceed infinitely that which the natural appetites seek in objects, these appetites and objects being limited while this power is independent or at the least this goodness, given by the will to the chosen object, must be arbitrary and of such a kind as the will desires. For whence would one derive the reason for limits if the object is possible, if it is within reach of him who wills, and if the will can give it the goodness it desires to give, independently of reality and of appearances? It seems to me that may suffice to overthrow a hypothesis so precarious, which contains something of a fairy-tale kind, _optantis ista sunt, non invenientis_. It therefore remains only too true that this handsome fiction cannot render us more immune from evils. And we shall see presently that when men place themselves above certain desires or certain aversions they do so through other desires, which always have their foundation in the representation of good and evil. I said also 'that one might grant the conclusion of the argument', which states that our happiness does not depend absolutely upon ourselves, at least in the present state of human life: for who would question the fact that we are liable to meet a thousand accidents which human prudence cannot evade? How, for example, can I [425] avoid being swallowed up, together with a town where I take up my abode, by an earthquake, if such is the order of things? But finally I can also deny the inference in the argument, which states that if the will is only actuated by the representation of good and evil our happiness does not depend upon ourselves. The inference would be valid if there were no God, if everything were ruled by brute causes; but God's ordinance is that for the attainment of happiness it suffices that one be virtuous. Thus, if the soul follows reason and the orders that God has given it, it is assured of its happiness, even though one may not find a sufficiency thereof in this life. 19. Having thus endeavoured to point out the disadvantages of my hypothesis, our gifted author sets forth the advantages of his own. He believes that it alone is capable of saving our freedom, that all our felicity rests therein, that it increases our goods and lessens our evils, and that an agent possessing this power is so much the more complete. These advantages have almost all been already disproved. We have shown that for the securing of our freedom it is enough that the representations of goods and of evils, and other inward or outward dispositions, should incline us without constraining us. Moreover one does not see how pure indifference can contribute to felicity; on the contrary, the more indifferent one is, the more insensitive and the less capable of enjoying what is good will one prove to be. Besides the hypothesis proves too much. For if an indifferent power could give itself the consciousness of good it could also give itself the most perfect happiness, as has been already shown. And it is manifest that there is nothing which would set limits to that power, since limits would withdraw it from its pure indifference, whence, so our author alleges, it only emerges of itself, or rather wherein it has never been. Finally one does not see wherein the perfection of pure indifference lies: on the contrary, there is nothing more imperfect; it would render knowledge and goodness futile, and would reduce everything to chance, with no rules, and no measures that could be taken. There are, however, still some advantages adduced by our author which have not been discussed. He considers then that by this power alone are we the true cause to which our actions can be imputed, since otherwise we should be under the compulsion of external objects; likewise that by this power alone can one ascribe to oneself the merit of one's own felicity, and feel pleased with [426] oneself. But the exact opposite is the case: for when one happens upon the action through an absolutely indifferent movement, and not as a result of one's good or bad qualities, is it not just as though one were to happen upon it blindly by chance or hazard? Why then should one boast of a good action, or why should one be censured for an evil one, if the thanks or blame redounds to fortune or hazard? I think that one is more worthy of praise when one owes the action to one's good qualities, and the more culpable in proportion as one has been impelled to it by one's evil qualities. To attempt to assess actions without weighing the qualities whence they spring is to talk at random and to put an imaginary indefinable something in the place of causes. Thus, if this chance or this indefinable something were the cause of our actions, to the exclusion of our natural or acquired qualities, of our inclinations, of our habits, it would not be possible to set one's hopes upon anything depending upon the resolve of others, since it would not be possible to fix something indefinite, or to conjecture into what roadstead the uncertain weather of an extravagant indifference will drive the vessel of the will. 20. But setting aside advantages and disadvantages, let us see how our learned author will justify the hypothesis from which he promises us so much good. He imagines that it is only God and the free creatures who are active in the true sense, and that in order to be active one must be determined by oneself only. Now that which is determined by itself must not be determined by objects, and consequently the free substance, in so far as it is free, must be indifferent with regard to objects, and emerge from this indifference only by its own choice, which shall render the object pleasing to it. But almost all the stages of this argument have their stumbling-blocks. Not only the free creatures, but also all the other substances and natures composed of substances, are active. Beasts are not free, and yet all the same they have active souls, unless one assume, with the Cartesians, that they are mere machines. Moreover, it is not necessary that in order to be active one should be determined only by oneself, since a thing may receive direction without receiving force. So it is that the horse is controlled by the rider and the vessel is steered by the helm; and M. Descartes' belief was that our body, having force in itself, receives only some direction from the soul. Thus an active thing may receive from outside some determination or direction, capable of changing that [427] direction which it would take of itself. Finally, even though an active substance is determined only by itself, it does not follow that it is not moved by objects: for it is the representation of the object within it which contributes towards the determination. Now the representation does not come from without, and consequently there is complete spontaneity. Objects do not act upon intelligent substances as efficient and physical causes, but as final and moral causes. When God acts in accordance with his wisdom, he is guided by the ideas of the possibles which are his objects, but which have no reality outside him before their actual creation. Thus this kind of spiritual and moral motion is not contrary to the activity of the substance, nor to the spontaneity of its action. Finally, even though free power were not determined by the objects, it can never be indifferent to the action when it is on the point of acting, since the action must have its origin in a disposition to act: otherwise one will do anything from anything, _quidvis ex quovis_, and there will be nothing too absurd for us to imagine. But this disposition will have already broken the charm of mere indifference, and if the soul gives itself this disposition there must needs be another predisposition for this act of giving it. Consequently, however far back one may go, one will never meet with a mere indifference in the soul towards the actions which it is to perform. It is true that these dispositions incline it without constraining it. They relate usually to the objects; but there are some, notwithstanding, which arise variously _a subjecto_ or from the soul itself, and which bring it about that one object is more acceptable than the other, or that the same is more acceptable at one time than at another. 21. Our author continually assures us that his hypothesis is true, and he undertakes to show that this indifferent power is indeed found in God, and even that it must be attributed to him of necessity. For (he says) nothing is to God either good or bad in creatures. He has no natural appetite, to be satisfied by the enjoyment of anything outside him. He is therefore absolutely indifferent to all external things, since by them he can neither be helped nor hindered; and he must determine himself and create as it were an appetite in making his choice. And having once chosen, he will wish to abide by his choice, just as if he had been prompted thereto by a natural inclination. Thus will the divine will be the cause of goodness in beings. That is to say, there will be goodness in the objects, not by their [428] nature, but by the will of God: whereas if that will be excluded neither good nor evil can exist in things. It is difficult to imagine how writers of merit could have been misled by so strange an opinion, for the reason which appears to be advanced here has not the slightest force. It seems to me as though an attempt is being made to justify this opinion by the consideration that all creatures have their whole being from God, so that they cannot act upon him or determine him. But this is clearly an instance of self-deception. When we say that an intelligent substance is actuated by the goodness of its object, we do not assert that this object is necessarily a being existing outside the substance, and it is enough for us that it be conceivable: for its representation acts in the substance, or rather the substance acts upon itself, in so far as it is disposed and influenced by this representation. With God, it is plain that his understanding contains the ideas of all possible things, and that is how everything is in him in a transcendent manner. These ideas represent to him the good and evil, the perfection and imperfection, the order and disorder, the congruity and incongruity of possibles; and his superabundant goodness makes him choose the most advantageous. God therefore determines himself by himself; his will acts by virtue of his goodness, but it is particularized and directed in action by understanding filled with wisdom. And since his understanding is perfect, since his thoughts are always clear, his inclinations always good, he never fails to do the best; whereas we may be deceived by the mere semblances of truth and goodness. But how is it possible for it to be said that there is no good or evil in the ideas before the operation of God's will? Does the will of God form the ideas which are in his understanding? I dare not ascribe to our learned author so strange a sentiment, which would confuse understanding and will, and would subvert the current use of our notions. Now if ideas are independent of will, the perfection or imperfection which is represented in them will be independent also. Indeed, is it by the will of God, for example, or is it not rather by the nature of numbers, that certain numbers allow more than others of various exact divisions? that some are more fitted than others for forming battalions, composing polygons and other regular figures? that the number six has the advantage of being the least of all the numbers that are called perfect? that in a plane six equal circles may touch a seventh? that of all equal bodies, the sphere has the least surface? that [429] certain lines are incommensurable, and consequently ill-adapted for harmony? Do we not see that all these advantages or disadvantages spring from the idea of the thing, and that the contrary would imply contradiction? Can it be thought that the pain and discomfort of sentient creatures, and above all the happiness and unhappiness of intelligent substances, are a matter of indifference to God? And what shall be said of his justice? Is it also something arbitrary, and would he have acted wisely and justly if he had resolved to condemn the innocent? I know that there have been writers so ill-advised as to maintain an opinion so dangerous and so liable to overthrow religion. But I am assured that our illustrious author is far from holding it. Nevertheless, it seems as though this hypothesis tends in that direction, if there is nothing in objects save what is indifferent to the divine will before its choice. It is true that God has need of nothing; but the author has himself shown clearly that God's goodness, and not his need, prompted him to produce creatures. There was therefore in him a reason anterior to the resolution; and, as I have said so many times, it was neither by chance nor without cause, nor even by necessity, that God created this world, but rather as a result of his inclination, which always prompts him to the best. Thus it is surprising that our author should assert here (ch. 5, sect. 1, sub-sect. 4, § 5) that there is no reason which could have induced God, absolutely perfect and happy in himself, to create anything outside him, although, according to the author's previous declarations (ch. 1, sect. 3, §§ 8, 9), God acts for an end, and his aim is to communicate his goodness. It was therefore not altogether a matter of indifference to him whether he should create or not create, and creation is notwithstanding a free act. Nor was it a matter of indifference to him either, whether he should create one world rather than another; a perpetual chaos, or a completely ordered system. Thus the qualities of objects, included in their ideas, formed the reason for God's choice. 22. Our author, having already spoken so admirably about the beauty and fittingness of the works of God, has tried to search out phrases that would reconcile them with his hypothesis, which appears to deprive God of all consideration for the good or the advantage of creatures. The indifference of God prevails (he says) only in his first elections, but as soon as God has chosen something he has virtually chosen, at the same time, all [430] that which is of necessity connected therewith. There were innumerable possible men equally perfect: the election of some from among them is purely arbitrary (in the judgement of our author). But God, once having chosen them, could not have willed in them anything contrary to human nature. Up to this point the author's words are consistent with his hypothesis; but those that follow go further. He advances the proposition that when God resolved to produce certain creatures he resolved at the same time, by virtue of his infinite goodness, to give them every possible advantage. Nothing, indeed, could be so reasonable, but also nothing could be so contrary to the hypothesis he has put forward, and he does right to overthrow it, rather than prolong the existence of anything so charged with incongruities incompatible with the goodness and wisdom of God. Here is the way to see plainly that this hypothesis cannot harmonize with what has just been said. The first question will be: Will God create something or not, and wherefore? The author has answered that he will create something in order to communicate his goodness. It is therefore no matter of indifference to him whether he shall create or not. Next the question is asked: Will God create such and such a thing, and wherefore? One must needs answer (to speak consistently) that the same goodness makes him choose the best, and indeed the author falls back on that subsequently. But, following his own hypothesis, he answers that God will create such a thing, but that there is no _wherefore_, because God is absolutely indifferent towards creatures, who have their goodness only from his choice. It is true that our author varies somewhat on this point, for he says here (ch. 5, sect. 5, sub-sect. 4, § 12) that God is indifferent to the choice between men of equal perfection, or between equally perfect kinds of rational creatures. Thus, according to this form of expression, he would choose rather the more perfect kind: and as kinds that are of equal perfection harmonize more or less with others, God will choose those that agree best together; there will therefore be no pure and absolute indifference, and the author thus comes back to my principles. But let us speak, as he speaks, in accordance with his hypothesis, and let us assume with him that God chooses certain creatures even though he be absolutely indifferent towards them. He will then just as soon choose creatures that are irregular, ill-shapen, mischievous, unhappy, chaos everlasting, monsters everywhere, [431] scoundrels as sole inhabitants of the earth, devils filling the whole universe, all this rather than excellent systems, shapely forms, upright persons, good angels! No, the author will say, God, when once he had resolved to create men, resolved at the same time to give them all the advantages possible in the world, and it is the same with regard to creatures of other kinds. I answer, that if this advantage were connected of necessity with their nature, the author would be speaking in accordance with his hypothesis. That not being so, however, he must admit that God's resolve to give every possible advantage to men arises from a new election independent of that one which prompted God to make men. But whence comes this new election? Does it also come from mere indifference? If such is the case, nothing prompts God to seek the good of men, and if he sometimes comes to do it, it will be merely by accident. But the author maintains that God was prompted to the choice by his goodness; therefore the good and ill of creatures is no matter of indifference to him, and there are in him primary choices to which the goodness of the object prompts him. He chooses not only to create men, but also to create men as happy as it is possible to be in this system. After that not the least vestige of mere indifference will be left, for we can reason concerning the entire world just as we have reasoned concerning the human race. God resolved to create a world, but he was bound by his goodness at the same time to make choice of such a world as should contain the greatest possible amount of order, regularity, virtue, happiness. For I can see no excuse for saying that whereas God was prompted by his goodness to make the men he has resolved to create as perfect as is possible within this system, he had not the same good intention towards the whole universe. There we have come back again to the goodness of the objects; and pure indifference, where God would act without cause, is altogether destroyed by the very procedure of our gifted author, with whom the force of truth, once the heart of the matter was reached, prevailed over a speculative hypothesis, which cannot admit of any application to the reality of things. 23. Since, therefore, nothing is altogether indifferent to God, who knows all degrees, all effects, all relations of things, and who penetrates at one and the same time all their possible connexions, let us see whether at least the ignorance and insensibility of man can make him absolutely indifferent in his choice. The author regales us with this pure [432] indifference as with a handsome present. Here are the proofs of it which he gives: (1) We feel it within us. (2) We have experience within ourselves of its marks and its properties. (3) We can show that other causes which might determine our will are insufficient. As for the first point, he asserts that in feeling freedom within us we feel within us at the same time pure indifference. But I do not agree that we feel such indifference, or that this alleged feeling follows upon that of freedom. We feel usually within us something which inclines us to our choice. At times it happens, however, that we cannot account for all our dispositions. If we give our mind to the question, we shall recognize that the constitution of our body and of bodies in our environment, the present or previous temper of our soul, together with countless small things included under these comprehensive headings, may contribute towards our greater or lesser predilection for certain objects, and the variation of our opinions from one time to another. At the same time we shall recognize that none would attribute this to mere indifference, or to some indefinable force of the soul which has the same effect upon objects as colours are said to have upon the chameleon. Thus the author has no cause here to appeal to the judgement of the people: he does so, saying that in many things the people reason better than the philosophers. It is true that certain philosophers have been misled by chimeras, and it would seem that mere indifference is numbered among chimerical notions. But when someone maintains that a thing does not exist because the common herd does not perceive it, here the populace cannot be regarded as a good judge, being, as it is, only guided by the senses. Many people think that air is nothing when it is not stirred by the wind. The majority do not know of imperceptible bodies, the fluid which causes weight or elasticity, magnetic matter, to say nothing of atoms and other indivisible substances. Do we say then that these things are not because the common herd does not know of them? If so, we shall be able to say also that the soul acts sometimes without any disposition or inclination contributing towards the production of its act, because there are many dispositions and inclinations which are not sufficiently perceived by the common herd, for lack of attention and thought. Secondly, as to the marks of the power in question, I have already refuted the claim advanced for it, that it possesses the advantage of making one active, the real cause of one's action, and subject to responsibility and morality: [433] these are not genuine marks of its existence. Here is one the author adduces, which is not genuine either, namely, that we have within us a power of resisting natural appetites, that is to say of resisting not only the senses, but also the reason. But I have already stated this fact: one resists natural appetites through other natural appetites. One sometimes endures inconveniences, and is happy to do so; but that is on account of some hope or of some satisfaction which is combined with the ill and exceeds it: either one anticipates good from it, or one finds good in it. The author asserts that it is through that power to transform appearances which he has introduced on the scene, that we render agreeable what at first displeased us. But who cannot see that the true reason is, that application and attention to the object and custom change our disposition and consequently our natural appetites? Once we become used to a rather high degree of cold or heat, it no longer incommodes us as it formerly did, and yet no one would ascribe this effect to our power of choice. Time is needed, for instance, to bring about that hardening, or rather that callosity, which enables the hands of certain workmen to resist a degree of heat that would burn our hands. The populace, whom the author invokes, guess correctly the cause of this effect, although they sometimes apply it in a laughable manner. Two serving-maids being close to the fire in the kitchen, one who has burnt herself says to the other: Oh, my dear, who will be able to endure the fire of purgatory? The other answers: Don't be absurd, my good woman, one grows used to everything. 24. But (the author will say) this wonderful power which causes us to be indifferent to everything, or inclined towards everything, simply at our own free will, prevails over reason itself. And this is his third proof, namely, that one cannot sufficiently explain our actions without having recourse to this power. One sees numbers of people despising the entreaties of their friends, the counsels of their neighbours, the reproaches of their conscience, discomforts, tortures, death, the wrath of God, hell itself, for the sake of running after follies which have no claim to be good or tolerable, save as being freely chosen by such people. All is well in this argument, with the exception of the last words only. For when one takes an actual instance one will find that there were reasons or causes which led the man to his choice, and that there are very strong bonds to fasten [434] him thereto. A love-affair, for example, will never have arisen from mere indifference: inclination or passion will have played its part; but habit and stubbornness will cause certain natures to face ruin rather than separation from the beloved. Here is another example cited by the author: an atheist, a man like Lucilio Vanini (that is what many people call him, whereas he himself adopts the magnificent name of Giulio Cesare Vanini in his works), will suffer a preposterous martyrdom for his chimera rather than renounce his impiety. The author does not name Vanini; and the truth is that this man repudiated his wrong opinions, until he was convicted of having published atheistical dogmas and acted as an apostle of atheism. When he was asked whether there was a God, he plucked some grass, saying: _Et levis est cespes qui probet esse Deum._ But since the Attorney General to the Parliament of Toulouse desired to cause annoyance to the First President (so it is said), to whom Vanini was granted considerable access, teaching his children philosophy, if indeed he was not altogether in the service of that magistrate, the inquisition was carried through rigorously. Vanini, seeing that there was no chance of pardon, declared himself, when at the point of death, for what he was, an atheist; and there was nothing very extraordinary in that. But supposing there were an atheist who gave himself up for torture, vanity might be in his case a strong enough motive, as in that of the Gymnosophist, Calanus, and of the Sophist who, according to Lucian's account, was burnt to death of his own will. But the author thinks that that very vanity, that stubbornness, those other wild intentions of persons who otherwise seem to have quite good sense, cannot be explained by the appetites that arise from the representation of good and evil, and that they compel us to have recourse to that transcendent power which transforms good into evil, and evil into good, and the indifferent into good or into evil. But we do not need to go so far, and the causes of our errors are only too visible. Indeed, we can make these transformations, but it is not as with the Fairies, by a mere act of this magic power, but by obscuring and suppressing in one's mind the representations of good or bad qualities which are naturally attached to certain objects, and by contemplating only such representations as conform to our taste or our prejudices; or [435] again, because one attaches to the objects, by dint of thinking of them, certain qualities which are connected with them only accidentally or through our habitual contemplation of them. For example, all my life long I detest a certain kind of good food, because in my childhood I found in it something distasteful, which made a strong impression upon me. On the other hand, a certain natural defect will be pleasing to me, because it will revive within me to some extent the thought of a person I used to esteem or love. A young man will have been delighted by the applause which has been showered upon him after some successful public action; the impression of this great pleasure will have made him remarkably sensitive to reputation; he will think day and night of nothing save what nourishes this passion, and that will cause him to scorn death itself in order to attain his end. For although he may know very well that he will not feel what is said of him after his death, the representation he makes of it for himself beforehand creates a strong impression on his mind. And there are always motives of the same kind in actions which appear most useless and absurd to those who do not enter into these motives. In a word, a strong or oft-repeated impression may alter considerably our organs, our imagination, our memory, and even our reasoning. It happens that a man, by dint of having often related something untrue, which he has perhaps invented, finally comes to believe in it himself. And as one often represents to oneself something pleasing, one makes it easy to imagine, and one thinks it also easy to put into effect, whence it comes that one persuades oneself easily of what one wishes. _Et qui amant ipsi sibi somnia fingunt._ 25. Errors are therefore, absolutely speaking, never voluntary, although the will very often contributes towards them indirectly, owing to the pleasure one takes in giving oneself up to certain thoughts, or owing to the aversion one feels for others. Beautiful print in a book will help towards making it persuasive to the reader. The air and manner of a speaker will win the audience for him. One will be inclined to despise doctrines coming from a man one despises or hates, or from another who resembles him in some point that strikes us. I have already said why one is readily disposed to believe what is advantageous or agreeable, and I have known people who at first had changed their religion for worldly [436] considerations, but who have been persuaded (and well persuaded) afterwards that they had taken the right course. One sees also that stubbornness is not simply wrong choice persevering, but also a disposition to persevere therein, which is due to some good supposed to be inherent in the choice, or some evil imagined as arising from a change. The first choice has perchance been made in mere levity, but the intention to abide by it springs from certain stronger reasons or impressions. There are even some writers on ethics who lay it down that one ought to abide by one's choice so as not to be inconstant or appear so. Yet perseverance is wrong when one despises the warnings of reason, especially when the subject is important enough to be examined carefully; but when the thought of change is unpleasant, one readily averts one's attention from it, and that is the way which most frequently leads one to stubbornness. The author wished to connect stubbornness with his so-called pure indifference. He might then have taken into account that to make us cling to a choice there would be need of more than the mere choice itself or a pure indifference, especially if this choice has been made lightly, and all the more lightly in proportion to the indifference shown. In such a case we shall be readily inclined to reverse the choice, unless vanity, habit, interest or some other motive makes us persevere therein. It must not be supposed either that vengeance pleases without cause. Persons of intense feeling ponder upon it day and night, and it is hard for them to efface the impression of the wrong or the affront they have sustained. They picture for themselves a very great pleasure in being freed from the thought of scorn which comes upon them every moment, and which causes some to find vengeance sweeter than life itself. _Quis vindicta bonum vita jucundius ipsa._ The author would wish to persuade us that usually, when our desire or our aversion is for some object which does not sufficiently deserve it, we have given to it the surplus of good or evil which has affected us, through the alleged power of choice which makes things appear good or evil as we wish. One has had two degrees of natural evil, one gives oneself six degrees of artificial good through the power that can choose without cause. Thus one will have four degrees of net good (ch. 5, sect. 2, § 7). If that could be carried out it would take us far, as I have already said here. The [437] author even thinks that ambition, avarice, the gambling mania and other frivolous passions derive all their force from this power (ch. 5, sect. 5, sub-sect. 6). But there are besides so many false appearances in things, so many imaginations capable of enlarging or diminishing objects, so many unjustified connexions in our arguments, that there is no need of this little Fairy, that is, of this inward power operating as it were by enchantment, to whom the author attributes all these disorders. Indeed, I have already said repeatedly that when we resolve upon some course contrary to acknowledged reason, we are prompted to it by another reason stronger to outward appearance, such as, for instance, is the pleasure of appearing independent and of performing an extraordinary action. There was in days past at the Court of Osnabrück a tutor to the pages, who, like a second Mucius Scaevola, held out his arm into the flame and looked like getting a gangrene, in order to show that the strength of his mind was greater than a very acute pain. Few people will follow his example; and I do not even know if a writer could easily be found who, having once affirmed the existence of a power capable of choosing without cause, or even contrary to reason, would be willing to prove his case by his own example, in renouncing some good benefice or some high office, simply in order to display this superiority of will over reason. But I am sure at the least that an intelligent man would not do so. He would be presently aware that someone would nullify his sacrifice by pointing out to him that he had simply imitated Heliodorus, Bishop of Larissa. That man (so it is said) held his book on Theagenes and Chariclea dearer than his bishopric; and such a thing may easily happen when a man has resources enabling him to dispense with his office and when he is sensitive to reputation. Thus every day people are found ready to sacrifice their advantages to their caprices, that is to say, actual goods to the mere semblance of them. 26. If I wished to follow step by step the arguments of our gifted author, which often come back to matters previously considered in our inquiry, usually however with some elegant and well-phrased addition, I should be obliged to proceed too far; but I hope that I shall be able to avoid doing so, having, as I think, sufficiently met all his reasons. The best thing is that with him practice usually corrects and amends theory. After having advanced the hypothesis, in the second section of this fifth chapter, [438] that we approach God through the capacity to choose without reason, and that this power being of the noblest kind its exercise is the most capable of making one happy, things in the highest degree paradoxical, since it is reason which leads us to imitate God and our happiness lies in following reason: after that, I say, the author provides an excellent corrective, for he says rightly (§ 5) that in order to be happy we must adapt our choice to things, since things are scarcely prone to adapt themselves to us, and that this is in effect adapting oneself to the divine will. Doubtless that is well said, but it implies besides that our will must be guided as far as possible by the reality of the objects, and by true representations of good and evil. Consequently also the motives of good and evil are not opposed to freedom, and the power of choosing without cause, far from ministering to our happiness, will be useless and even highly prejudicial. Thus it is happily the case that this power nowhere exists, and that it is 'a being of reasoning reason', as some Schoolmen call the fictions that are not even possible. As for me, I should have preferred to call them 'beings of non-reasoning reason'. Also I think that the third section (on wrong elections) may pass, since it says that one must not choose things that are impossible, inconsistent, harmful, contrary to the divine will, or already taken by others. Moreover, the author remarks appositely that by prejudicing the happiness of others needlessly one offends the divine will, which desires that all be happy as far as it is possible. I will say as much of the fourth section, where there is mention of the source of wrong elections, which are error or ignorance, negligence, fickleness in changing too readily, stubbornness in not changing in time, and bad habits; finally there is the importunity of the appetites, which often drive us inopportunely towards external things. The fifth section is designed to reconcile evil elections or sins with the power and goodness of God; and this section, as it is diffuse, is divided into sub-sections. The author has cumbered himself needlessly with a great objection: for he asserts that without a power to choose that is altogether indifferent in the choice there would be no sin. Now it was very easy for God to refuse to creatures a power so irrational. It was sufficient for them to be actuated by the representations of goods and evils; it was therefore easy, according to the author's hypothesis, for God to prevent sin. To extricate himself from this difficulty, he has no other resource than to state that if this power [439] were removed from things the world would be nothing but a purely passive machine. But that is the very thing which I have disproved. If this power were missing in the world (as in fact it is), one would hardly complain of the fact. Souls will be well content with the representations of goods and evils for the making of their choice, and the world will remain as beautiful as it is. The author comes back to what he had already put forward here, that without this power there would be no happiness. But I have given a sufficient answer to that, and there is not the slightest probability in this assertion and in certain other paradoxes he puts forward here to support his principal paradox. 27. He makes a small digression on prayer (sub-sect. 4), saying that those who pray to God hope for some change in the order of nature; but it seems as though, according to his opinion, they are mistaken. In reality, men will be content if their prayers are heard, without troubling themselves as to whether the course of nature is changed in their favour, or not. Indeed, if they receive succour from good angels there will be no change in the general order of things. Also this opinion of our author is a very reasonable one, that there is a system of spiritual substances, just as there is of corporeal substances, and that the spiritual have communication with one another, even as bodies do. God employs the ministry of angels in his rule of mankind, without any detriment to the order of nature. Nevertheless, it is easier to put forward theories on these matters than to explain them, unless one have recourse to my system of Harmony. But the author goes somewhat further. He believes that the mission of the Holy Spirit was a great miracle in the beginning, but that now his operations within us are natural. I leave it to him to explain his opinion, and to settle the matter with other theologians. Yet I observe that he finds the natural efficacy of prayer in the power it has of making the soul better, of overcoming the passions, and of winning for oneself a certain degree of new grace. I can say almost the same things on my hypothesis, which represents the will as acting only in accordance with motives; and I am immune from the difficulties in which the author has become involved over his power of choosing without cause. He is in great embarrassment also with regard to the foreknowledge of God. For if the soul is perfectly indifferent in its choice how is it possible to foresee this choice? and what sufficient reason will one be able to find for the knowledge of a[440] thing, if there is no reason for its existence? The author puts off to some other occasion the solution of this difficulty, which would require (according to him) an entire work. For the rest, he sometimes speaks pertinently, and in conformity with my principles, on the subject of moral evil. He says, for example (sub-sect. 6), that vices and crimes do not detract from the beauty of the universe, but rather add to it, just as certain dissonances would offend the ear by their harshness if they were heard quite alone, and yet in combination they render the harmony more pleasing. He also points out divers goods involved in evils, for instance, the usefulness of prodigality in the rich and avarice in the poor; indeed it serves to make the arts flourish. We must also bear in mind that we are not to judge the universe by the small size of our globe and of all that is known to us. For the stains and defects in it may be found as useful for enhancing the beauty of the rest as patches, which have nothing beautiful in themselves, are by the fair sex found adapted to embellish the whole face, although they disfigure the part they cover. Cotta, in Cicero's book, had compared providence, in its granting of reason to men, to a physician who allows wine to a patient, notwithstanding that he foresees the misuse which will be made thereof by the patient, at the expense of his life. The author replies that providence does what wisdom and goodness require, and that the good which accrues is greater than the evil. If God had not given reason to man there would have been no man at all, and God would be like a physician who killed someone in order to prevent his falling ill. One may add that it is not reason which is harmful in itself, but the absence of reason; and when reason is ill employed we reason well about means, but not adequately about an end, or about that bad end we have proposed to ourselves. Thus it is always for lack of reason that one does an evil deed. The author also puts forward the objection made by Epicurus in the book by Lactantius on the wrath of God. The terms of the objection are more or less as follows. Either God wishes to banish evils and cannot contrive to do so, in which case he would be weak; or he can abolish them, and will not, which would be a sign of malignity in him; or again he lacks power and also will, which would make him appear both weak and jealous; or finally he can and will, but in this case it will be asked why he then does not banish evil, if he exists? The author replies that God cannot banish evil, that he does not wish to either, and that notwithstanding he is neither malicious [441] nor weak. I should have preferred to say that he can banish evil, but that he does not wish to do so absolutely, and rightly so, because he would then banish good at the same time, and he would banish more good than evil. Finally our author, having finished his learned work, adds an Appendix, in which he speaks of the Divine Laws. He fittingly divides these laws into natural and positive. He observes that the particular laws of the nature of animals must give way to the general laws of bodies, that God is not in reality angered when his laws are violated, but that order demanded that he who sins should bring an evil upon himself, and that he who does violence to others should suffer violence in his turn. But he believes that the positive laws of God rather indicate and forecast the evil than cause its infliction. And that gives him occasion to speak of the eternal damnation of the wicked, which no longer serves either for correction or example, and which nevertheless satisfies the retributive justice of God, although the wicked bring their unhappiness upon themselves. He suspects, however, that these punishments of the wicked bring some advantage to virtuous people. He is doubtful also whether it is not better to be damned than to be nothing: for it might be that the damned are fools, capable of clinging to their state of misery owing to a certain perversity of mind which, he maintains, makes them congratulate themselves on their false judgements in the midst of their misery, and take pleasure in finding fault with the will of God. For every day one sees peevish, malicious, envious people who enjoy the thought of their ills, and seek to bring affliction upon themselves. These ideas are not worthy of contempt, and I have sometimes had the like myself, but I am far from passing final judgement on them. I related, in 271 of the essays written to oppose M. Bayle, the fable of the Devil's refusal of the pardon a hermit offers him on God's behalf. Baron André Taifel, an Austrian nobleman, Knight of the Court of Ferdinand Archduke of Austria who became the second emperor of that name, alluding to his name (which appears to mean Devil in German) assumed as his emblem a devil or satyr, with this Spanish motto, _Mas perdido, y menos arrepentido_, the more lost, the less repentant, which indicates a hopeless passion from which one cannot free oneself. This motto was afterwards repeated by the Spanish Count of Villamediana when he was said to be in love with the Queen. Coming to the question why evil often happens to the good and good to the wicked, [442] our illustrious author thinks that it has been sufficiently answered, and that hardly any doubt remains on that point. He observes nevertheless that one may often doubt whether good people who endure affliction have not been made good by their very misfortune, and whether the fortunate wicked have not perhaps been spoilt by prosperity. He adds that we are often bad judges, when it is a question of recognizing not only a virtuous man, but also a happy man. One often honours a hypocrite, and one despises another whose solid virtue is without pretence. We are poor judges of happiness also, and often felicity is hidden from sight under the rags of a contented poor man, while it is sought in vain in the palaces of certain of the great. Finally the author observes, that the greatest felicity here on earth lies in the hope of future happiness, and thus it may be said that to the wicked nothing happens save what is of service for correction or chastisement, and to the good nothing save what ministers to their greater good. These conclusions entirely correspond to my opinion, and one can say nothing more appropriate for the conclusion of this work. [443] * * * * * CAUSA DEI ASSERTA PER JUSTITIAM EJUS _cum caeteris ejus perfectionibus cunctisque actionibus conciliatam._ The original edition of the Theodicy contained a fourth appendix under this title. It presented in scholastic Latin a formal summary of the positive doctrine expressed by the French treatise. It satisfied the academic requirements of its day, but would not, presumably, be of interest to many modern readers, and is consequently omitted here. [445] * * * * * INDEX Abélard, 122, 232-4, 272 Abraham, 209 Adam, 222, 270-2, 346-7 Adam Kadmon, 133 Albius, Thomas, 122 Alcuin, 77 Alfonso, King of Castile, 247-8 Aloysius Novarinus, 191 Alrasi, 288 Alvarez, 149 Ambrose, St., 153, 194 Amyraut, 238 Anaxagoras, 353 Andradius, Jacques Payva, 176 Andreas Cisalpinus, 81 Angelus Silesius, Johann, 79 Annat, 344-5 Anselm, St., 77 Antipater, 232 Aquinas, Thomas, _see_ Thomas Arcesilaus, 337 Archidemus, 232 Aristotelians, 27-8 Aristotle, 13, 76-8, 81, 148, 170, 195, 203, 229, 241, 243-4, 265, 269, 283, 304, 309-10, 324, 352, 353, 409 Arminius, _see_ Irminius Arminius (Jacob Harmensen), 383, 398 Arnauld, 67, 89, 225, 254, 260, 264-6, 351 Arriaga, 112, 356 Arrian, 232 Assassins, 284 Athanasius, St., 87 Augustine (of Hippo), St., 60, 100, 122, 134, 148, 166, 173, 187, 226, 274, 285, 294, 296-7, 300-3, 347, 352-3, 378, 384, 409, 412 ----, his disciples, 145, 297, 300, 324, 330, 348 Augustus (Emperor), 287 Aulus Gellius, 258-9, 325, 327 Aureolus, Cardinal, 139, 353 Averroes, Averroists, 77 ff. Bacon, Francis, 306 Bañez, 149 Barbaro, Ermolao, 170 Baron, Vincent, 121 Baronius, Robert, 84 Barton, Thomas, 122 Basil, St., 221, 352 Bayle, P., 34 ff. _et passim_ Becher, Johann Joachim, 334-5 Becker, 221 Bede, 77 Bellarmine, St. Robert, 107, 313, 323 Berigardus, Claudius, 81 Berkeley, Bp., 11 Bernard, St., 277 Bernier, 139, 353 Bertius, 227 de Bèze, Theodore, 274 _Birgitta, Revelations of St._, 173 Boethius, 76, 365-6 Bonartes, Thomas, 58, 121-2 Bonaventura, St., 294 des Bosses, Fr., 121, 389 Bossuet, 10 Bradwardine, Abp., 159, 176 Bramhall, Bp. John, 161, 393 Bredenburg, Johan, 349-50 Brunswick, Duke of, 8, 82 Buckingham, Duke of, 142 Buridan's ass, 150, 311, 312 Burnet, Thomas, 278 Cabalists, 79, 133, 347 Caesar Cremoninus, 81 Cajetan, Cardinal, 100, 243 Calanus, 284, 434 Caligula, 227 Calixtus, 108 Calli, 359 Callimachus, 213 Calovius, 84 Calvin, 84-5, 101, 165, 222, 238, 240, 328 Cameron, 313 Campanella, 217 Capella, Martianus, 264 Cardan, Jerome, 282, 286 Carneades, 312, 320-1, 337 Caroli, Andreas, 227 Casaubon, Meric, 285 Caselius, 82 Cassiodorus, 76 [Page 446] Casuists, 194, 222, 241 Catharin, Ambrose, 173 Catherine de Medicis, 227 Cato, 263, 318 Celsus, 102-3 Chardin, 209 de la Charmoye, Abbé, 213 Chemnitz, Martin, 111, 176 Christine, Queen of Sweden, 96, 104 Chrysippus, 229-32, 258-9, 324-7 Cicero, 99, 194, 229-32, 241, 286, 297, 312, 321, 324-5, 342 Claudian, 132, 191, 215 Cleanthes, 233, 324 Coelius Secundus Curio, 134 Coimbra, Fathers of, 325 Colerus, 350 Conringius, 161, 422 Constance, Council of, 234 de la Cour, 350-1 Crellius, 161 Cudworth, Ralph, 64, 245 Cuper, Franz, 350 Cyrano de Bergerac, 331 Dacier, 337 Daillé, 70, 107 Davidius, John, 179 _De Auxiliis_, 168 Democritus, 324 Descartes, 12-13, 19-21, 107, 111-12, 140, 150, 156, 224 ff., 239, 244, 265, 281, 304, 331, 333, 334, 343, 390, 409, 426 Desmarests, Samuel, 241 Diodorus, 230-2 Diogenianus, 325 Dionysius of Halicarnassus, 232 Diphilus, 285 Diroys, 249-53, 329 Dominicans, 348 Dreier, 244 Drexler, 291 Dualists, 251 du Plessis-Mornay, 91 Durand de Saint-Pourçain, 139, 324, 341, 353 Empedocles, 324 Epictetus, 352 Epicureans, 282-3 Epicurus, 229-30, 310-11, 319, 320, 324, 395 Esprit, Abbé, 131 Euclid, 261 Euripides, 284, 285 Eusebius, 326 Eutrapelus, 191 Fabricius, Johann Ludwig, 67 Fabry, 333 Fecht, 290, 291, 293 Fénelon, 287 Fludde, 184 Fonseca, 145 Foucher, 34, 89, 337 Francis I of France, 204 Francis of Sales, St., 176 Francis Xavier, St., 176 Freitag, Johann, 171 Fromondus, Libertus, 89 Fulgentius, 167 _Fur praedestinatus_, 227 della Galla, Julius Caesar, 171 Gassendi, 12, 337 Gatacre, Thomas, 262 Gerhard, Johann, 291 Gerson, 79 Gibieuf, 344-5 Glarea, Antonio, 366 Godescalc, 167, 294 Gomarists, 227 Gregory, St., the Great, 100, 291, 293, 294 Gregory, St., of Nazianzus, 173 Gregory, St., of Nyssa, 132 Gregory of Rimini, 173 Grotius, 77, 91, 161, 194, 241, 243, 276 Guerre, Martin, 97-8 Gymnosophists, 284 Hartsoeker, 172 Heliodorus of Larissa, 437 Heraclitus, 324 Herminius, _see_ Irminius Hermippus, 209 Herodotus, 196, 208, 210 Heshusius, Tilemann, 82 Hobbes, Thomas, 67, 89, 159, 161, 234, 265, 348, 393 ff., 410 Hoffmann, Daniel, 82 Horace, 131, 318 Homer, 284 Hyde, 209 Innocent III, Pope, 131 Irminius, 209 Isbrand, 238 Jansenists, 145, 346-7 Jansenius, 344 Jacquelot, 157, 223, 259, 265, 278, 341 Jerome, St., 132 John of Damascus, St., 77 [Page 447] John Scot, 171 Jung, 261 Jupiter, 213 Jurieu, 174, 187, 290-2, 356 Justin, 208 Keckermann, Bartholomaeus, 106 Keilah, siege of, 145-6 Kendal, George, 228 Kepler, 140, 353 Kerkering, 351 Kessler, Andreas, 83 Kortholt, Sebastian, 351 Krell, Nicolas, 398 de Labadie, Jean, 82 Lactantius, 221, 285, 286, 440 Lami, François, 89, 359 Lateran Council, 80 Laud, Abp., 398 de Launoy, 100 Lazarus, 294 le Clerc, 64, 121, 132, 245, 292 Leeuwenhoek, 172 Limbourg, 350 Lipsius, Justus, 325, 337, 353 Livy, 263 Locke, John, 8, 9, 33-4, 86, 409 Löscher, 298 Louis of Dole, 149, 353 Lucan, 122, 212 Lucian, 265, 434 Lucretius, 320 Lully, Raymond, 106 Luther, 67, 81, 99, 101, 110-11, 122, 298, 328, 395 Machiavelli, 216 Maignan, 359 Maimonides, 287-8 Malebranche, 172, 244, 254 ff., 276, 280, 333, 359, 361 Manichaeans, 59, 98, 113, 124, 208, 274, 419 Marchetti, 320 Marcion, 213 Marcus Aurelius, 263 Mary, Blessed Virgin, 193 Matthieu, Pierre, 204 Maurice, Prince, 398 Melanchthon, 81 Melissus, 218, 220 Ménage, 232 Meyer, Louis, 82 Mithras, 209 Molina, 145, 173, 207 Molinists, 145, 317, 324, 342 More, Henry, 169 Moses Germanus, 79 de la Motte le Vayer, 282 Musaeus, Johann, 86, 111 Naudé, Gabriel, 81 Newcastle, Duke of, 393 ff. Newton, Isaac, 34, 85-6 Nicole, 96-7, 174, 291, 299 Nominalists, 203 Novarini, 286 Ochino, Bernardino, 89 Onomaus, 325 Opalenius, 194 Origen, 102-3, 132, 235, 294 Origenists, 260, 292 Orobio, 350 Ovid, 209, 220, 306 Pardies, 333 Pascal, 35 Paul, St., 129-30, 238, 260 Paulicians, _see_ Manichaeans Pelagius, 139 Pélisson, 176 Pereir, Louis, 139 Peter Lombard, 290 Pfanner, 352 Pierre de Saint-Joseph, 342, 357 Pietists, Leipzig, 83 Piscator, 207 Pitcairne, 172 Plato, 59, 76, 135, 148, 209, 241, 286, 297, 321, 352-4 Pliny the Younger, 204, 209, 284, 287, 365 Plutarch, 208, 231, 326, 353 Pomponazzi, 80, 161 de la Porrée, Gilbert, 122 de Preissac, 80 Prudentius, 132, 218 Ptolomei, Fr., 70 Pufendorf, 194, 241, 403 Pythagoras, 172 Quênel, Fr., 70 Quietists, 79 Rachelius, 194 de la Ramée, Pierre, 81 Ravaillac, 204 Regis, 305, 330, 340 Remonstrants, 226 Reynaud, Theophile, 348 [Page 448] Rodon, David de, 354 Rorarius, 160 Rutherford, Samuel, 236, 238, 269 Ruysbroek, 79 Saguens, 359 Salmeron, 173 Saurin, 106 Scaliger, Joseph, 89, 104-5 Scaliger, Julius, 170 Scherzer, 84 Schoolmen, 75, 77, 100, 241, 290, 310, 354, 407 Scioppius, 337 Scotists, 243, 324 Scotus, Duns, 203, 271, 328, 383 Seneca, 226, 285 Sennert, Daniel, 171 Sentences, Master of the, _see_ Peter Lombard Servetus, Michael, 81 Sfondrati, Cardinal, 129, 173 Sharrok, 194 Silenus, 286 Slevogt, Paul, 82 Socinians, 58, 83-4, 161-2, 307, 343, 394, 412, 423 Sonner, Ernst, 290 Spee, Friedrich, 176-7 Sperling, Johann, 171 Sperling, Otto, 212 Spinoza, 67, 68, 79, 82, 159, 234-6, 331, 348-51, 359, 418 Stahl, Daniel, 243 Stegman, Josua, 107 Stegmann, Christopher, 84 Steno, 178 Steuchus, Augustinus, 91 Stoics, 79, 232, 263, 282-3, 324 ff., 342 Strato, 67, 245-6, 331, 335, 336, 349, 395 Strinesius, 241 Sturm, 69, 261 Suarez, 314 Suetonius, 287 Supralapsarians, 166, 228, 236, 238, 269, 273-4, 289 Swammerdam, 172 Tacitus, 210, 211, 265, 287 Taifel, Baron André, 441 Taurel, Nicolas, 81, 353 Tertullian, 101 Thomas Aquinas, St., 174, 176, 241, 243, 262, 324, 357, 378, 383 Thomasius, Jacob, 243, 265 Thomists, 145, 149, 241, 311, 324, 344, 347 Tiberius, 227 Timon, 265 Tiresias, 230 Toland, John, 106 de Tournemine, Fr., 69 Trajan, 293 Trogus, 208 Turretin, 240 Twiss, 238 Ursinus, Zacharias, 291 Usserius, 70 Valla, Laurentius, 67, 344, 365 ff. van Beverwyck, Johan, 153-4 van den Ende, Franz, 351 van den Hoof, 350 van der Weye, 82 van Helmont, 169 Vanini, Lucilio, 434 Vedelius, Nicolaus, 86, 111 Velleius Paterculus, 318 Vergil, 78-9, 122, 287, 293, 306, 315 Véron, François, 107 Versé, Aubert de, 350 Voëtius, Gisbertus, 86 Vorstius, Conrad, 58 Vogelsang, 82 von Wallenberg, Bp. Peter, 67 Wander, William, 169 Weigel, Erhard, 261, 355 Weigel, Valentine, 79 de Witt, 351 Wittich, 187, 306-7, 309 von Wollzogen, 82 Wyclif, John, 122, 159, 234, 272, 395 Xanthus, 209 Zeisold, Johann, 171 Zoroaster, 71, 208-10, 218 
21881	----	Transcribed from the 1900 Wells Gardner, Darton & Co. edition by David Price, email ccx074@pglaf.org THE LIFE OF THE WAITING SOUL IN THE INTERMEDIATE STATE. BY _R. E. SANDERSON_, _D.D._, ST. MICHAEL, BRIGHTON; CANON RESIDENTIARY OF CHICHESTER CATHEDRAL; FORMERLY HEAD MASTER OF LANCING COLLEGE. London: WELLS GARDNER, DARTON & CO., 3 PATERNOSTER BUILDINGS, E.C. FIRST EDITION, MAY, 1896. SECOND ,, SEP., ,, THIRD ,, FEB., 1897. FOURTH ,, JAN., 1898. FIFTH ,, FEB., 1900. PREFACE. These Addresses were delivered in Chichester Cathedral, and subsequently, with slight alterations, at Hastings. They would not have been printed but at the urgent request of very many who heard them preached. It should be remembered that they are not a theological treatise, but a course of plain words addressed to an ordinary congregation. It seemed desirable to awaken interest in a subject which has dropped out of English Christian thought, and almost out of people's knowledge. The Addresses are an attempt to explain what can be known about the Intermediate Life. There is nothing new in them. If there were, probably what is new would not be true. The doctrines of so-called "Universalism" and "Conditional Immortality" are not touched upon. They do not belong to the period which is covered by the Intermediate State. Moreover, I doubt whether we can ever regard those doctrines as anything more than speculations invented to answer modern and possibly ephemeral objections. How much I have unconsciously been indebted to those who have dealt with this subject more fully, I hardly know. One reads and remembers, and reproduces in preaching, often without thought of the sources from which material has been drawn. I gratefully acknowledge in the notes what I know to be debts incurred. I can only express my regret if any have been overlooked. R. E. S. _Easter_, 1896. I. "I would not have you to be ignorant, brethren, concerning them which are asleep."--1 THESS. IV. 13. There are moments in the lives of every one of us, when the mind is irresistibly drawn on to wonder what our own personal future shall be, as soon as life is over and death has overtaken us. We cannot help the speculation. However bound by present duties and absorbed in present interests, often, in quiet hours, in times of solitude or bereavement, or under the sense of failing hopes or failing health, in seasons of sorrow or of sickness, the mood takes hold of us; and it may be, we know not why, our eyes turn with an anxious and a wistful look towards that inevitable end which is surely coming upon us. At such moments we ask ourselves, what will my lot be when the hand of death touches me--even _me_; when all the light of life goes out, all thought of this world's cares, all pleasant joys and hopes and desires of time sink down and fade into the chill gloom and shadow of the unknown? Such questionings, brought close home to our very selves, cannot but fill us with very anxious fears and misgivings, as we either look back upon the past, or think upon what chiefly possesses our minds and thoughts now. Indeed, many of us cannot bear this forward glance, and refuse to face it. We would fain brush the thought aside, and with some hasty utterance of vague trust, of shadowy self-comforting hope that GOD will be merciful, we turn sharply round and give ourselves again to the calls of the life which is about us. In this way, we Christians, we children of GOD, heirs of life and immortality, learn to be terrified at death, which, as we are taught to believe, ushers us into life; learn to associate it with trembling doubt and shuddering dismay. But is this dread of death nothing else than the natural instinctive shrinking, which the warmth of life feels at the touch of its cold hand? Or is it not rather, in the case of most of us, due to some false imaginations with which religion itself--that form, at least, of religion which to-day encompasses us--has for many years possessed and imbued the minds of men? Indeed, I believe it to be so. The Christianity of to-day has too commonly accepted two untruths, which yet it holds as truths. 1. One of them is this: That death ushers the soul immediately and finally into the supreme condition which awaits the souls of men; so that, at death, the souls of good men pass at once into heaven, while the souls of bad men pass at once into hell; in other words, that the final and irrevocable severance between the just and the unjust takes place at death. Believing this, men have lost all faith in an Intermediate State between death and the Day of Judgment. That intervening sojourn of the soul has virtually dropped out of recognition in the popular Christianity of the day, and is quite ignored. If you walk through any resting place of the bodies of the dead, into your own churchyards and cemeteries, you will, not seldom, find inscriptions upon tombs, which express the confident assurance that one, whose death is recorded, has already passed into heaven; that another has now become an angel of Light, or is singing the praises of GOD before the throne, is, in short, in the full present enjoyment of consummate and final bliss. Thus it is that the Intermediate State between death and the final condition of happiness in heaven, which can only follow the Day of the Resurrection, is quite forgotten and overlooked. 2. And the second untruth, which is closely connected with the first, is this: That there are but two classes of those who pass hence and are no more seen; classes sharply distinguished, clearly outlined,--on the one hand, of those who at death go straight to heaven, and, on the other, of those who at death go straight to the place of final torment. If then these are the only two clearly marked and sharply defined alternatives, it follows that, whensoever we dare not be sure of any one soul at death that it was good enough certainly for heaven, there is nothing for it but to fear that the worse doom awaits it and that it is lost. For if it is not, at the moment of death, pure enough or good enough for heaven, into which there "shall in no wise enter anything that defileth, neither whatsoever worketh abomination, or maketh a lie," {5} that soul, according to this false belief, is lost. Yet, in fact, what do we see within us and around us, as we honestly look into our own lives, and upon the lives both of the best and of the worst among us? We see this, and we are convinced that we are not mistaken, that even among the most marked extremes of good men and evil men, few even of the best are so free from stain or fault as, at death, to be certainly fit for heaven, and few so vile and degraded as not to have still some good in them. And between these two extremes there are multitudes of mixed characters, in part good and in part bad. Among these, of whom we know that they are full of worth yet full of imperfections too, we count so many who are most dear to us, many the companions of our lives, our kindred, and acquaintances, and cherished friends, whose failings and whose virtues we know so well, of mixed and imperfect character, too frail for heaven, too good, too lovable for hell, partly good and partly not good, strong and also weak, marred with inconsistencies, and often for these very inconsistencies the more dear to us, of whom, so truly have we loved and even honoured them, it seems almost like an outrage upon their memory to bring ourselves to think that there was just so much of evil in them and just so little good, as would suffice to turn the balance against them and thus fix, at the moment of their death, their final doom. What are we to think of such as these? Of some we perhaps say within ourselves, "Would that there had been but a little amendment of this blemish! A little more of strength and purpose against that fault! If only this besetting hardness had not been the spoiler of his life, that great heedlessness, that fatal procrastination, this too frequent sin! Oh! but for this or that which marred the fair and well rounded character! But for this we should have been full of hope: there was so much on the better side, that we should have been full of trust, and even of confidence. But, now, what are we to think? If only there were some fit and fair proportion to be thought of, duly measured out, of reward and punishment, a mixed destiny for a mixed character, partly good and partly evil for those who in this life were in part good and in part were evil! But these two awful and sharp alternatives, either reward or punishment, these two separate issues, heaven or hell, and if not heaven then necessarily and inevitably hell! What shall we think? We dare not think. In the Bible we are encouraged to believe that we shall receive the due reward of our deeds, whether they be good or whether they be evil. {8} But how shall any receive in heaven the due reward of evil deeds done on earth? and how, in hell, shall any wretched soul receive in any truth the due rewards of good deeds done on earth? Yet in each, there was some good even in the worst, and some evil even in the best." We see then what follows upon this false belief, that at death an instant judgment assigns finally the destiny of all men, to men of every degree of wickedness, without distinction, Hell; and one final and absolute Heaven to men of every varying measure of goodness. Surely there is a great perplexity in this. No wonder if such beliefs lead men to dread the thought of death, of their own death, of the death of their friends. No mere physical repulsion makes us shrink, but rather the uncertainty and doubt of what may follow, "The dread of something after death, The undiscover'd country, from whose bourn No traveller returns, puzzles the will," and makes us Christian men and women turn to find relief from these bewildering fears by plunging deeply into the waters of life's amusements and ambitions. It is the uncertainty of things, wearing to some the aspect of caprice, which leads to recklessness, and sometimes to defiance. I believe, from my heart, that Holy Scripture rightly understood solves these confusing riddles. I believe that a more sound and Scriptural grasp of what will be the future of each of us after death, the restoration of a right belief in an Intermediate State, will go far to correct these unworthy and most un-Christian fears. But it is said, at times, that nothing can be really known about this Intermediate State, that all that can be asserted of it is mere guess and vain conjecture, and even that it betrays a too curious intrusion into things unseen to speculate about the condition of souls after death. Yes! if we only speculate, but not surely if we seek humbly to find out what the Bible has taught us. S. Paul did not think it a too presumptuous intrusion into things beyond the reach of our knowledge to make this enquiry. "I would not have you to be ignorant concerning them which are asleep." He would rather that the Thessalonians should know all that can be known, to their edification. And something can be known, or he would not have written this. And to know it will be to our edification also. Certainly to ignore what can be known has led, as we have seen, to loss and offence in these days. Therefore I propose to try and set before you not idle speculations indeed, but what has been actually revealed in Holy Scripture, or may be drawn from it about the Intermediate State. It is upon Holy Scripture that we must depend for our learning. At least I shall make no attempt to build arguments upon any other foundation than Holy Scripture. But let us, in GOD'S Name, get out of Holy Scripture all that can, according to the proportion of the faith, be deduced from it. It is as perilous, not to say as undutiful towards GOD, the Revealer, to neglect what He has for our sakes revealed, as it would be to invent speculations of our own about that which He has not revealed. The unseen world is not easy to apprehend, and to our matter-of-fact English mind and temper is especially difficult. Yet, with the awful future in our mind, which awaits not only those who are very dear to ourselves, but ourselves also, we must be dull indeed, if we have no concern for it. Then if sober questioning may reveal more clearly to us what Holy Scripture can tell us of things that shall befall each of us, we may hope to gain fresh confidence, and to renew our trust in Him Who launched us into time, that we may live with Him in eternity through Jesus Christ our Lord. II. "Jesus said unto him, Verily I say onto thee, To-day shall thou be with Me in Paradise." --S. LUKE XXIII. 43. If we should ask what happens to the soul of a good man when he dies, the answer would probably be that he has gone to heaven. Of a little child it would be said at his death, that he has become an angel in heaven. But this would be quite untrue, because it contradicts the Bible. The Bible teaches that there will at the end of the world be a day when all the dead shall rise and stand before the Judgment Seat of Christ, to be judged for the deeds done in the body, whether they be good, or whether they be evil. But if a good man's soul goes straight to heaven at death, without waiting for the Day of Judgment, he practically has no Day of Judgment at all. He escapes it. The Bible also teaches that before the Day of Judgment there will be a general Resurrection of all, both of the just and of the unjust. {14} But how can one who is already in heaven, while his body lies in the grave of corruption,--how can he, being already glorified and even now beholding the vision of GOD, to any intelligible purpose, or for any conceivable end, take part in the general Resurrection? Why should he, as it were, come away from heaven and rise from the dead, in order to be judged? Thus the popular belief, that the souls of the righteous pass straight to heaven, and the souls of the wicked go straight to hell, is against the plain teaching of the Bible. But the Bible not only contradicts this popular and careless fancy. It asserts what is directly contrary to it: it asserts positively, I mean, that there is an age-long period between death and the final state of happiness or misery, during which period the soul is separate from the body and remains separate. We are, according to the Bible, destined to undergo three great changes in the mode and nature of our existence. In the first period, while we are here in this our life on earth, the soul and spirit are united to a material and tangible body of flesh and blood, suited to our life here. The second stage begins at death, the name we give to the separation which then takes place between this material fabric of the body and the incorporeal part of us; and then the soul and spirit dwell disembodied for a time. There follows at the Resurrection the third period, when the soul and spirit are reunited with the body, but with the body now so spiritualized and refined as to suit the heavenly existence. The second of these two periods, coming between the first and the third, is therefore fitly called the intermediate or middle state, the state in which the disembodied soul dwells apart from its material tenement. {15} What has the Bible then to say about this Intermediate State? I will not ask you to listen to the comments or interpretations of the early Christian writers, although, of course, very great respect is due to what they say. I will only beg of you to pay common attention to what the Bible itself says. Now, first, I will point to the words which our Lord spoke from the Cross, just before His Death, to the thief who was also slowly dying at His side. "To-day," He said, "shalt thou be with Me in Paradise." So then within a few hours,--it was then not yet mid-day--they were both to be in Paradise. They both died before sunset, and at their death both entered Paradise. Their dead bodies were left behind upon the Cross. What then entered Paradise? Not their bodies, but the spiritual or incorporeal part of them. Was Paradise then another name for heaven? It cannot be; our Lord did not go to heaven until the day of His Ascension, forty-three days after His death. For, after His Resurrection, He said to S. Mary Magdalene, "I am _not yet_ ascended to My Father." {17} With His risen body, united again to His human soul and spirit, He went to Heaven, His whole human nature now being, by His Resurrection, again completely one. But into Paradise only part of His human nature passed, the spiritual part of it, along with the spiritual part of the thief's human nature. Our Lord's soul and spirit came back, as we know, from Paradise on the third day. The soul and spirit of the thief remain there still. So then this is what our Lord Himself teaches us as to the state of the disembodied spirit, that at death a just man's spirit does _not_ go to heaven, but into a sphere of life which is called Paradise. But, if this be so, why, it may be asked, did not our Lord speak in plainer and more definite language? Such a truth, it may be urged, a truth which so much concerns us, ought not to depend upon a single text. I do not propose to ask you to be content with an inference from a single text. But it may be that our Lord did not say more than this about the great truth with which we are dealing for this reason, that the disciples whom He gathered round Him, being Jews, perfectly well knew what He meant by Paradise. This single reference, therefore, is enough to show that what was a common and prevalent belief among the Jews was a true belief,--a belief which our Lord not only recognized, but by recognizing established and sanctioned. But if we are once clear on this point, we shall find the belief more plainly set forth by our Lord in another place. What then is the belief that we have learned from this single passage? We have learned this, that the human spirit of our Lord, and the spirit of the dying thief did not pass at death to heaven, though if any spirit should ever be fit to pass at death to heaven His spirit was fit, but to a state which He called Paradise. Now, there was another expression used in the ordinary Jewish language of the day for the state to which the blessed dead passed at death. They were spoken of as at rest "in Abraham's bosom." Of a very holy man they would say, "This day he rests in Abraham's bosom." So that in the minds of the Jews and therefore of the disciples the term "Paradise" meant exactly the same thing as "Abraham's bosom." We have learned what "Paradise" meant. Therefore now we know what "resting in Abraham's bosom" meant. It meant the Intermediate State. {19} The scene then in the narrative of the rich man and Lazarus, which follows the deaths of the two men, belongs not to the final state of happiness and misery at all, but to the Intermediate State. The joy is the joy of the Intermediate State. The suffering, which is in such strong contrast to the joy as to be divided from it by a deep gulf, so that the joy cannot be tinged with the misery, nor the misery relieved by the joy,--this suffering also is the suffering of the Intermediate State. The reality then of the Intermediate State is confirmed by our Lord in this narrative. Now observe the weight of this testimony. If the Jews were wrong in believing that the spirits of the just passed into Paradise or into Abraham's bosom our Lord would never have uttered words twice over which sanctioned their mistake. We may observe further from these two passages that the Intermediate State has two parts or conditions. There are those in it who suffer, and there are those who rejoice. At death, the spirits of those whose lives have been evil pass to suffering and anguish, as we read of the rich man that "in Hades he lifted up his eyes being in torments"; and the spirits of the faithful pass to rest and joy. But between these two representatives in the narrative, the one of the evil, the other of the good, there are the multitudes who are neither very good nor very evil, so varied in the indeterminate tokens of good and evil which marked their lives on earth, that it would seem to be impossible for us to know on which side of "the great gulf" their position ought to be. But if the extremes enter the Intermediate State, and there is room for them in it, is it to be supposed that there is no room for those who are between the extremes? Rather do we learn that the spirits of all go thither, not only of the faithful and of the wicked, but of the wavering and uncertain also, of those who were weak and fell, of those who, with unsteady and tottering steps, sometimes rising, often falling, now obeying, now rebelling, now believing, now doubting, now walking in the light, now plunged in darkness, at one time treading firmly the ground of the narrow path, and then at times wandering into the quagmires and morasses of sin and lust, passed through the pilgrimage of life, and, at length, when their allotted span was completed, were assigned to the place which awaited them, to the place which was their own and was fitted for them. We have seen what conclusions must be drawn from the express language of our Lord Himself. Let us now examine the evidence afforded by His Apostles, in the Epistles and in the book of the Revelation. But first I would ask you to consider what, according to the Bible, is the chief feature in the conception of the happiness and glory of Heaven, what is its essential nature. Is it not this, that being the dwelling place of GOD Himself, the glory and happiness of Heaven will consist in the Presence itself of GOD, and therefore in the vision of GOD? As a great writer has said, "It must be remarked by everybody that the glory of the future state is always put before us not as an inner consciousness or mental communion simply, not as an absorption into ourselves within, but as a great spectacle without us, the spectacle of a great visible manifestation of GOD. It is a sight, a picture, a representation, that constitutes the heavenly state, not mere thought and contemplation. The glorified saint of Scripture is especially a beholder; he gazes, he looks, he fixes his eyes upon something before him; he does not merely ruminate within, but his whole mind is carried out towards and upon a great representation. And thus Heaven specially appears in Scripture as the sphere of perfected sight, where the faculty is raised and exalted to its highest act, and the happiness of existence culminates in vision." {23} If this be so, all the most entrancing spectacles and scenes of earth shall appear dim and coarse and uncouth in comparison with the sight on which the ravished gaze of eternity shall be fastened. For then shall our eyes see "The King in His Beauty." {24a} They shall see GOD, see Him face to face,--GOD! No higher conception of happiness is set before the heart of man, which ever craves for heaven and for perfection, than GOD Himself, the sight of GOD, the Presence of GOD, the Knowledge of GOD. "In Thy Presence is the fulness of joy." {24b} But we must not lose sight of the effect which this vision of GOD produces upon those who gaze. To see Him is to become like Him. "Then," says S. John, "we shall be like Him, for we shall see Him as He is." {24c} "We all," says S. Paul, "with open face, beholding, as in a glass, the glory of the Lord, are changed into the same image from glory to glory." This is what seeing GOD will do. When, then, shall this vision be granted? At death to any? No! but only at the Second Coming of Christ. All the great writers of the Epistles speak, as with one voice, of this. What says S. Peter? "When the chief Shepherd _shall appear_, ye shall receive the crown of glory that fadeth not away." {25a} Not therefore at death, but at Christ's Second Coming and appearance. What does S. John say? "We know that _when He shall appear_, we shall be like Him, for we shall see Him as He is." {25b} Not therefore until that time. What again does the great S. Paul say? "When Christ, Who is our life, _shall appear_, then shall ye also appear with Him in glory." {25c} Again to S. Timothy he writes, "There is laid up for me the crown of righteousness, which the Lord _the righteous Judge_, shall give to me _at that day_: and not only to me, but also to all them that have loved _His appearing_." {25d} There can be no doubt what S. Paul means by "That Day." It is the day when "the Righteous Judge" on His Judgment throne shall award the crowns to those who have fought the good fight and kept the faith. This is the frequent meaning of the expressions, "That day," "The day of the Lord," in the New Testament. "We know it," says Dr. Liddon, "by a more familiar name given it on three occasions by our Lord Himself, and on three at least by His Apostles after Him: it is the Day of Judgment." {26} S. Paul, therefore, when he says, "There is laid up for me the crown of righteousness which the Lord will give me on that day," does not expect that crown until the Day of Judgment. These are a few out of many like passages, all showing that heaven is not reached at death, but only after the Day of Judgment. From all which it is clear that the Apostles had in their minds the firm assurance that there was to be a waiting time, how long they knew not, or how short they knew not, during which the spirit without the body would dwell in expectation. If it were otherwise, if at death the spirit passes into the light which no man can approach unto, into the Presence of GOD and beholds the Beatific Vision, which, as we saw, constitutes the consummation of happiness and perfection in heaven, I would ask, how it can be conceived that our Lord would have called Lazarus back from that supreme happiness, which eye hath never seen nor ear ever heard, nor heart of man ever conceived,--called him back to mingle in the griefs and sorrows, the pains and failures, the doubts and fears, the mists and confusions of this earthly life. Was this the act of Him Who loved Lazarus? Was there no other way of consoling the living sisters, than by so great a loss to the vanished brother? Was it not to call him from life to death, rather than from death to life? One more passage must be quoted, the force of which cannot well be missed. In the sixth chapter of the Book of the Revelation, S. John describes the vision which he saw at the opening of the fifth seal. He saw, he said, "under the altar the souls of them that had been slain for the word of GOD,--and they cried with a great voice, saying, How long, O Master, the holy and true, dost Thou not judge and avenge our blood on them that dwell on the earth?--And it was said unto them, that they should rest yet for a little while, until their fellow-servants also and their brethren . . . should be fulfilled." {28} Plainly these souls were not in heaven, for they bemoaned the long delay, and were bidden to wait for awhile until some great fulfilment. Where then could they be, if not on earth, nor yet in heaven? They must have been in the Middle State between the two, these martyred souls, in Paradise. But they are not spoken of as in Paradise, or in Abraham's bosom, but as "under the Altar." Where was this? The Jews spoke of departed souls not only as in Paradise, and in Abraham's bosom, but also as "under the throne of Glory." By all these expressions they meant the same thing. S. John, however, uses a different expression in describing the Intermediate State, yet one so similar as to lead us to think that in the change he substitutes a Christian formula for the Jewish, giving it a Christian shape. As "the throne of Glory" was associated with the Presence of GOD in the mind of a devout Jew, so the Altar would be as naturally associated with the Presence of GOD in the mind of a devout Christian. What, therefore, the "Throne of GOD" was to the Jew, that "the Altar of GOD" would be to a Christian. For the Altar was to Christian thought the Throne of GOD. There, at the Christian Altar was commemorated the one great sacrifice to which all former sacrifices had pointed, and in which they were all fulfilled. There the communion of Saints was, as in no other way on earth, realized. There, as by one simultaneous vibration thrilling through the saintly dead, and the living communicants, the spiritual bond unites together in one unbroken living Communion, those of the Church expectant who are departed in the true faith of Christ's Holy Name, and those of us who are still striving in the Church militant on earth to perfect our probation. These souls "under the Altar" were still waiting, and their waiting wearied them. "How long?" they cried. They were not in the flesh, their bodies had been slain. They were absent from the body and present with the Lord, with Christ, as the crucified thief is still with Christ, in Paradise. The consummation for them is yet to come. They are waiting for it. It is postponed. GOD'S work on earth is yet uncompleted. The number of the elect is not yet made up. The Second Coming of Christ is yet delayed. All things are not yet ready. A little while longer must they wait, that they without us may not be made perfect. III. "To be carnally minded is death, but to be spiritually minded is life and peace."--ROM. VIII. 6. So far we have examined the witness which the Bible affords in support of the truth that there is such a sphere as the Intermediate State, in which the spirit dwells alone, apart from the body, awaiting the Day of Judgment. We have now to see what can be known as to the condition of the spirit in that disembodied state. It is one thing to be assured on good grounds that there is such a life, and quite another thing to be assured what sort of life it is. Can we fully understand what is meant by the life of the spiritual part of our being when it is separated from the body? We cannot. We cannot understand that of which we have had no experience. In speaking, therefore, of the disembodied spirit, we are speaking of that which we cannot explain. Yet it does not in consequence follow that it is impossible to believe it to be. For we are bound in reason to be assured of many things of which we can form no conception. Reason compels us to be assured of the reality of space, of eternity, of the creation of the universe out of nothing, and, perhaps we may add, of the being of GOD; the being of GOD, I mean, considered apart from His nature and attributes. Yet we cannot form any intelligent conception of these realities. We cannot shape to our apprehension the faintest rational conception of the Personality of GOD, of His Omniscience, of His Omnipresence. Yet we are able, and indeed are forced to believe, as Christians, in these attributes of His Nature, although we cannot comprehend them. In the same sense, we can be reasonably sure that the spirit can still live after it has left the body, even though we are unable to form to our minds any clear conception of the existence of the disembodied spirit. We can do more. On the assumption of the existence of the disembodied spirit, we are able, to some extent also, to reason upon the laws and limits of that separate and secluded life. We are, no doubt, in so doing, dealing with a profoundly mysterious subject. But it does not therefore follow that we are thereby really intruding into things which ought not to be enquired into. For the questions raised in the search concern us very closely; and, moreover, it is a matter about which GOD has made a revelation. And to know more about it than many people even care to know is a safeguard against many an unwholesome fear, against many a mischievous deceit. On the very threshold of this enquiry we are confronted with this question: "Is the soul the same thing as the spirit? If not, what is the soul, and what is the spirit?" That the Bible regards them as distinct is sufficiently clear from the language used by S. Paul in his first Epistle to the Thessalonians: "I pray GOD your whole spirit, soul, and body be preserved blameless unto the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ." {34a} The same distinction is marked in the Epistle to the Hebrews: "The word of GOD is quick, and powerful, and sharper than any two-edged sword, piercing even to the dividing asunder of soul and spirit." {34b} It is thus that we understand the contrast which S. Paul enforces between things of the spirit and things of the soul. "The _natural_ man,"--_i.e._, the psychical man, the man who yields to the sway of the soul,--"receiveth not the things of the spirit of GOD." {34c} And again, speaking of the resurrection, he writes: "It is sown a natural body,"--_i.e._, literally a psychical body, a body which is subject to the sway of the soul,--"it is raised a spiritual body,"--_i.e._, a body subject to the sway of the spirit. "There is a natural body, and there is a spiritual body." {35a} When again S. James says: "This wisdom . . . is earthly, _sensual_, devilish,"--the word translated "sensual" is the same word "psychical," _i.e._, subject to the sway of the soul. {35b} S. Jude speaks of those who are "sensual," _i.e._, psychical, "not having the spirit." {35c} Enough has been said to show that, according to the Bible, the soul is the seat of the senses, the desires, the will, the reasoning and intellectual faculties, the thoughts of the mind. What then is the spirit in man? We seem to have the answer given to us in the account of man's creation, when we are told that "GOD formed man of the dust of the ground, and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life, and man became a living soul." {35d} This breath of GOD could be nothing less than the spirit, which came from GOD Himself. It is that higher endowment by which man is a spiritual being, and therefore has an affinity to GOD. It is that which makes him GOD-like, even by nature, at least by his nature as it was before the fall. But even the fall did not utterly dissolve that nature; man still remained a spiritual being, although the spiritual part of him was subject to the sway of the animal in him, and to the senses of the lower nature. Until that creative act of GOD, man's body and soul were scarcely higher in the order and rank of being than the body and soul of the brute. It was the gift of the divine spirit which caused man's soul truly to live, so that he became then "a _living_ soul." Herein, henceforth, the soul of man differs from the soul of the lower creature. In man the soul is in contact with the spirit. The beast shares with man the possession of an animal soul. It is the prerogative of man to be endowed also with spirit. By the spirit, man is capable of apprehending GOD, can commune with GOD, can long for Him. Herein lies his capacity for religion. His soul is incorporeal no less than his spirit. It is, as it were, midway between the body and the spirit. It touches the body on the one side, on the other side it touches the spirit. The desires and the thoughts of the soul may become enslaved by the body, or they may become the servants of the spirit. The soul is the prize, for the mastery of which the spirit strives, and the flesh or body strives. The spirit may gain the soul, or the flesh may gain the soul. If the spirit loses the soul, it is a loss fatal and irreparable. The soul is drawn now this way by the baser longings of the flesh, now that way by the nobler appeals of the spirit. It is the "debateable ground" {37} on which the real battle of life is fought. "The flesh lusteth against the spirit, and the spirit against the flesh." The gaining of the soul is the gaining of the whole man. The losing of the soul is the losing of the whole man. Those have degraded and brutalized their life whose human spirit has yielded up its supremacy, whose soul has been swept along in captivity by the bodily desires. For as in some the spirit shapes the whole soul, so in others the soul, enslaved by the flesh, shapes the spirit. Death at length steps in, and tears asunder the flesh from the incorporeal part of us; and soul and spirit, still united, pass together to the life which awaits them in the world unseen. IV. "And when he had said this he fell asleep." --ACTS VII. 60. At death, as we have seen, the spirit and the soul are separated from the body, and, still united together, are launched into the unseen world. For though the soul is not the spirit, these two form the incorporeal parts of our compound nature, are the two immaterial elements of that trinity of life,--body, soul, spirit, which are united to make one human being. They both survive death. For death is the separation of the soul from the body, not of the soul from the spirit. But it must be remembered that the spirit, when at death it is, in company with the soul, withdrawn from the body, passes into the Intermediate State, shaped and stamped with the impress which the life on earth has fastened upon it. The spirit enters the new life, either enslaved, disfigured, degraded, dishonoured by the sensual soul, or else strong, free, true, purified in its victory over the flesh. It carries with it, in short, the character which in life it has acquired. It may be well to fall into the usage of ordinary speech, and speak of that which survives death as the _soul_, so long as we keep in mind what is really meant, viz., that it is the soul _united with the spirit_ which survives death. When, then, we say that the disembodied soul enters the Intermediate Life, we are bound to consider in what condition it enters it. For people sometimes argue thus: "Yes! I grant that there will be an interval or waiting time between death and the Day of Judgment. But then, during that time, is not the soul asleep? Surely the dying are said to fall asleep. Then, if asleep, they are unconscious, and to the unconscious soul the Intermediate State will seem to last but for an instant, and will no sooner be entered upon than it will be practically at an end. For complete insensibility to the passing and movement of time is one of the effects of complete unconsciousness. And, in truth, is it not the case that the Bible over and over again speaks of death as a state of sleep or taking rest? {41a} Thus the Intermediate State is in fact a blank. The eyes close in death, and they remain closed till they open to gaze upon the glories of the Resurrection, and the terrors of the judgment seat of Christ. Does not our own Prayer Book sanction this view in her Service for the Burial of the Dead? {41b} And do we not in common language ourselves express the same belief when we give to the resting place of the bodies of the dead the name of 'cemetery,' or sleeping place?" The answer to all this is that the language which represents death as a profound slumber is language applicable enough to describe what befalls the body, but is quite inapplicable when it is used of the soul. Sleep is distinctly a physical and corporeal function. The soul cannot be liable to or affected by corporeal influences when it is separated from the body. The soul cannot sleep. It is the body, in the hushed stillness of the chamber of death, which seems, now that the last struggle is over, and the spasm of dying leaves it motionless, to be sleeping. But even in life, while the body sleeps, the soul is awake. It is often, during the sleep of the body, even more active than during the waking hours. In dreams the soul is busy with its fancies. Thoughts flit this way and that through the mind of the sleeper. Indeed, the body is more often a hindrance rather than a help to the activities of thought. To lose all consciousness of the existence of the body, to be as if the body for the time were not,--this is to set the mind thinking in freedom unrestrained. For the body and the conscious sensation of the presence of the body seem to serve to drag down and encumber the energy of thought. A sound through the ear, a sight presented to the eye, a touch, an ache,--these break off sustained thinking. No wonder, when the body sleeps profoundly, the soul is often then most active. And will not this be so when the profoundest sleep of all falls upon the body? It is clear that the disembodied soul, if we may again go back to the Bible, is not by our Lord regarded as in a state of lethargy and dull unconsciousness. "To-day," said He, "shalt thou be with Me in Paradise." If this promise was meant to be a blessing and a solace it was meant to be consciously _felt_ as a blessing and a solace. How else could the thief have been in any true sense with Christ? S. Paul said, "For me to live is Christ, to die is gain." {43} Gain! Wherein could it be a gain to him to die, if to die was to exchange that eager, active vitality, so full of welcome pain and happy suffering, so full of a service, whose fruits were rich in blessing,--to exchange all this for dull heaviness and blank oblivion? In the narrative of the rich man and Lazarus, which, as we saw, describes the Intermediate State, the rich man is said to have "lifted up his eyes being in torments." So, then, his pain was felt. He was conscious; he reflected; he remembered; he spoke. Once more, in a remarkable passage in the First Epistle of S. Peter, to which, on a future occasion, I shall again refer, our Lord is spoken of as "having been put to death in the flesh, but quickened," _i.e._, made alive, "in spirit" {44}; words which, whatever the context may mean, can only have the force of bringing the effect of death in its relation to Christ's human body into sharp contrast with its effect in relation to His human spirit. In respect of His human body He was put to death; but in respect of His human spirit He was quickened or lived, lived still, in Paradise, though His body was dead. I need not, I think, refer to other passages. It is abundantly clear, both from the necessity of the thing, and from the obvious testimony of the Bible, that the soul still lives, still is awake, still is conscious. What, then, follows from the soul's consciousness in and through the passage of death? Obviously this,--that the life of the soul goes on, and is therefore the life of the same soul, sustained without break or interruption, after death, by an unsuspended continuity of the consciousness of personal identity. For of what is the soul still conscious? Of itself. The life therefore of the soul after death is one with the life of the soul before death. The same soul lives on. The only change to it is the absence of the body, which has been withdrawn from it, and is laid in the ground, and dissolves into dust. And this continuous consciousness of identity means that the soul's character is preserved unchanged and unaffected by the shock of the separation. For a character it had been contracting during its sojourn in the body, a character of its own. The spiritualized soul before death is a spiritualized soul after death. The animalized soul before death remains after death an animalized soul. The righteous is righteous still. The holy, the pure, the faithful, the devout, the true, are true, and devout, and faithful, and pure, and holy still. The wicked and tainted soul is still wicked and tainted when it enters the unseen, and begins its life in the Intermediate State. It is on the other side what it was on this side. Death,--the crisis and shock of death,--makes no change, no other change than this, that it strips off the outer clothing which enveloped the soul. It leaves the soul the same, no better, no worse. This is what is implied in the personal identity of the soul. It means the continuity of consciousness, and therefore continuity of character. Do we cling to some vague and fanciful expectation that the mere act of dying, so to call it, will itself work a great change upon the soul, will blot out our sins, will clear away our imperfections, will in an instant heal the wounds and scars, which evil habits, long inured in us, have wrought upon the soul? It will do nothing of the sort. We shall be no better, no holier on the other side than we were on this, no more fitted for heaven than when we died. If this be so,--and, so far as we can see, it must be so,--how much does it behove us to fear greatly the peril we incur by a careless and GOD-forgetting life! "Israel doth not know," said the prophet, "My people doth not consider." {47} That was the pity of it. It was the thoughtlessness, and the ignorance which came of it, that ruined the nation. Oh! that in life we would look things in the face more steadily! Would that we were ready to take heed how surely we are, day by day, shaping and moulding our character for good or for evil, a character which no shock of dissolution will affect, which will be ours when the crisis comes to end our probation here, and to usher us, as we are and have become, into that unseen life beyond! V. "Being confident of this very thing, that He which began a good work in you will perfect it until the day of Jesus Christ."--PHIL. I. 6 (_R.V._) The Intermediate Life is not a state of sleep, but a waiting time. But is it a time of mere waiting, and of unemployed quiescence? This would be no better than sleep. There must be a reason for the waiting. And what other reason can there be than that, during it, there is something to be done which can only be done then? S. Paul speaks, in the text, of work which he is confident will be carried on till it is brought to completion on the Day of Judgment. What is this work? We have seen that the Scriptural conception of the happiness of heaven is that it consists in the sight of GOD, the Beatific Vision. But there can enter the heavenly city nothing that defileth, nothing imperfect. It is the pure in heart who shall see GOD. Isaiah dare hardly approach the vision of GOD'S glory on earth, because he felt himself to be a man of unclean lips. The very heavens, the stars themselves, are not clean in GOD'S sight. And at death, who is pure? Who is free from stain? Who is perfect, that he should be fit to look upon GOD? Then, if no one that is imperfect can enter heaven, and none are perfect at death, can we not see what the work is that has to be done between death and the Resurrection? It is this work of purification, that the soul may be fitted for the vision of GOD in heaven. And this is what S. Paul is speaking of in the text. The work begun in life, under the conditions of earth's life, shall not stop at death, but, under new conditions, shall be carried on to perfection until the day of Jesus Christ. So far, then, we may say that we are treading on sure ground. But when we go on to ask how shall this work and process of purification be effected, and what is the nature and method of it, we are approaching a stage in our enquiry about which, it may be thought, nothing but conjecture remains, because nothing has been revealed. But let us see what light may be thrown upon this question. And, that we may narrow our enquiry within manageable limits, let us confine our attention for the present to the condition of those of whom it may with truth and reason be said that they died in the favour and grace of GOD, died in good hope of salvation, surely trusting that their sins had been forgiven through the blood of Jesus Christ, and that, however imperfect and blemished with sin their lives had been, there was an assured forgiveness for them and a good hope of eternal mercy. We will not define the exact limits of this reasonable hope, nor attempt to show who are within or beyond those limits. We will only, in general terms, speak of those who have entered upon the Intermediate Life in a condition such as would make them capable of perfect purification. Certainly it is impossible for any of us ever to say of any one absolutely that he is incapable of such progressive purification. It is not possible, in Christian charity, to pronounce sentence upon any. And it may be, and we may indeed hope, that a vast number, a much larger proportion than many now imagine, will prove on their entrance into the Intermediate Life to be capable of such progress of effective purification as may fit them, each according to his measure, for the final salvation for which he may be qualified in that home where "there are many mansions." When then does this purification begin? Does it begin with dying? That has been already disproved. But so prevalent is the popular belief that dying has a kind of cleansing power in itself, that it is well to touch upon it once more. What is dying? It is simply the parting of the soul from the body. The soul, up to the moment of death, dwells in the body. At death, in a moment it ceases to dwell in the body. But have not the pain, it may be asked, and the very agony of dying a chastening and purifying force, serving in themselves to crown repentance, and to achieve, in the instant, the complete cleansing of the soul? Why should it be so? The pains which precede death are distinct from dying, from what we may call the act of dying. The act of dying is instantaneous. It is the moment, the crisis at which the soul takes its flight. The pains and agony which accompany the process leading up to death are not the pains and agony of dying at all. They are felt while the sick man is still living. They belong to his life, not to his death. At the moment of dying the sufferings are probably over. The body has just felt its last throb of sensible anguish, and, in the crisis of the soul's departure, is incapable of feeling pain, and therefore is incapable of the discipline of pain. And it is the discipline of pain alone that has any cleansing power. And the discipline of pain went on in life up to the moment, if it be so, of the dying, and then ceased. But it belonged, as the pain belonged, to the life, and not to the death. During the life, at many times in the life past, the wholesome discipline of pain may or may not have been working a salutary change in the character, up to the very moment, perhaps, of death. But it ceased, as the pain ceased, at death. This then we conclude, that the act of dying in itself, apart from the pain which may have preceded it, can have no moral effect, or work any moral change. Moral change, that is to say change of character, can only go on in life. Dying is a physical operation, not a moral act. At death the possibility of change of character has stopped, so far as this life can be the sphere of it. Life, not death, may be accompanied by cleansing, life on this side of death, and life on the other side of death, but not death, which is between, the mere transition from life to life, from one mode of life to another. The soul, therefore, after death begins just where it left off, just as life left it, no better, no worse. It passes into the unseen world, pardoned, it may be, by GOD'S mercy, but yet no other than it was before it left the body. Even GOD'S pardon does not change the character, nor yet remove the tendency to sin. That still remains, alas! even in the penitent. The consequences of our acts follow upon our acts, and form our character. As there is uniformity in the law of cause and effect in the realm of nature, so, in morals, is it the case with what we do. Let a man yield to a temptation:--is he as strong against that temptation after he has yielded to it as he would have been if he had not yielded to it? We know that he is not. We know, by our own experience, that it needs a far greater and more strenuous effort to withstand the same temptation after previous yielding, than it did before. A man may repent and be pardoned, but he is what his sin has made him, weak and frail and prone to sin again. GOD'S pardon has cancelled his guilt, but it has not removed his tendency, nor the moral consequences, which sin has wrought upon his character. This then is what is meant when it is said that the soul, which has received the gracious pardon of GOD before it left the body, is still, when it is launched into the Intermediate Life, clouded and disfigured with the stains and imperfections which it had contracted in this life. But GOD, Who has begun the good work of cleansing in this life, will carry it on in the life unseen, until the soul be made perfect in the day of Jesus Christ. Who of us, the best of us, does not feel within him the bitterness of the lingering poison, which sin has deposited in his heart? The holier a man is, the more he is conscious of his sinfulness. To the end of life this must be so; for there is no reaching perfection here. Those, chiefly, who have made most progress in the struggle against sin here, know how hateful it is. The higher men rise here in the divine life, the more they discern their imperfections, because they can better measure them by the measure of GOD'S perfections. Each loftier level is but a new standpoint from which to lift the eyes, and view the peaks which soar upward towards infinite elevations. For GOD is holiness itself; and holiness is infinite, because GOD is infinite. VI. "Being confident of this very thing, that He which began a good work in you will perfect it until the day of Jesus Christ."--PHIL. I. 6 (_R.V._) The ground is now cleared for an answer to the question,--How is the purification of the soul effected in the Intermediate Life, and what is the nature of the process? We have seen, 1st, that this waiting time is not an idle time, but a time when something has to be done which can only be done then; 2nd, that what has to be done then is the work of cleansing and purifying the soul, that it may be perfected for the Beatific Vision in heaven; 3rd, that the souls of those who die in grace do yet, although fully pardoned, retain frailties of character, the consequences of former sins; and, 4th, that dying in itself has no cleansing virtue whatever. What, then, are the conditions on which we may rely as grounds for legitimate inferences? 1. First, then, memory survives death. In the narrative to which we have had occasion to refer more than once, Abraham is spoken of as bidding the rich man to remember. "Son, remember, that thou in thy lifetime receivedst thy good things." The survival of memory is involved in the soul's consciousness of its own existence. And to be conscious of our own existence is to be conscious that we are still the same persons that we were. Therefore we must be able to remember each successive moment what and who we were in the moment previous: so that the continuance of life involves the continuance of the consciousness that it is ourselves that live. And this is memory. Bishop Butler, therefore, says, "There is no reason for supposing that the exercise of our present powers of reflection is even suspended by the act of dying." But if we grant this, we may go further. What is it which makes memory in this life so imperfect? What is it but the obtrusive hindrance of the body? The body is at the mercy of the disturbing assaults of present impressions. Through ear, and eye, and touch external objects invade the mind, and dispel and distract fixed and steadfast retrospect. The present blots out the past. When we look back, scenes, and events, and words, and names fade from our memory, and are dimmed by the haze of distance. The past is smothered by what has happened since. Only with a supreme effort, only in solitude, and then only imperfectly, can we recall what has gone by. But there, in the Intermediate State, when the soul dwells apart from the body, there, in the stillness of that "cloistered and secluded life," the powers of memory will be undistracted and perfect. Even in this life, as we are told, some, in a great crisis, have seen at a single glance the whole story of their past experience, and scenes and events, long since forgotten, have flashed in an instant before the mind, clear and vivid. Such clearness, we may well suppose, will the memory have in the Intermediate Life, as it recalls in that quiet stillness the actions of the past days on earth. Here is the first equipment then for the work of cleansing. All the evil things done in life, all the forgotten sins, in all their naked and uncouth colours, will stand undisguised before the mind. Nothing will escape the memory:--nothing. The days of childhood, of youth, of middle age, of elder years will give in their report. The soul will see things then as they are, no longer tricked out in false and flattering guise. There, in all their miserable littleness, and coarseness, and meanness, and cowardice, bygone sins will rise up before the stern tribunal of the unsparing memory, each as it was, each as it is, each as GOD saw it at the time, each as GOD sees it now. 2. But this is not all. The souls of those who have received forgiveness in life, and have passed into the Intermediate State in GOD'S favour, are, we must remember, "with Christ"; with Christ, however imperfect their characters, however scarred with traces of former wounds of sin. The malefactor's character at his death must have been full of blemishes, yet he was to be ushered and welcomed into Paradise by Christ Himself. S. Paul again and again spoke of his own departure at death as that which would lead him into the presence of Christ. It may, however, be suggested that to be with Christ is to be with GOD, and that the vision of Christ must be the same thing as the vision of GOD. But the vision of GOD is specially reserved for the redeemed in heaven, while the vision of Christ is possible in Paradise; for where Christ is there is the vision of Christ. For Christ has assumed the form of man, and was seen as Man by men. But no man hath seen nor can see GOD. He dwells in the light which no man can approach unto. This is the vision of Him Who is to mortal eyes in His essence invisible. That vision will be granted to the pure in heart in the infinite glory of Heaven, granted to those who shall have become fitted to behold Him in Heaven. But He Who took our flesh was manifest in the flesh, and was seen, and touched, and handled. In that same body He rose from the dead; in that same glorified body He ascended into Heaven, to fill all things. And so after His Ascension He was seen by S. Stephen {63} and by S. Paul. That human nature, therefore, we are to believe is so present in Paradise that the sight of Him is vouchsafed even there to those who may be "with Him." What, then, follows from this? It follows that the soul will not only remember but also be able to judge of the past. For not only will it see its sins, but it will behold Christ also. It will see them, therefore, in the light of the perfect love, and most gracious sinlessness of Jesus Christ. It will look upon sin's stains as they stand out in contrast with His purity, its ingratitude in contrast with His compassion. He will be the atmosphere of the soul's existence. All the shame and dishonour, which in life the soul so complacently accepted, will then overwhelm it with self-reproach and very bitter compunction. This is what is meant by seeing sins as GOD sees them. It is to see them as the soul will see them under the sense of the Presence of the Holy Christ. Then will the soul know its guilt as it never knew it before. The guilt of sin will then be no bare expression, no conventional formula, but a spiritual fact, not an abstract doctrine, but a concrete reality. There will be revealed also to the soul the true meaning and significance of GOD'S providences in life, which at the time were overlooked, or slighted, or strangely misunderstood. Tokens of GOD'S love and care will then find their interpretation. The soul will see plainly why was this, wherefore was that, what that sorrow meant, what that loss, that parting from one who was more dear than life. The many perplexities which on earth misled the soul, of these the loving mercy and the gracious reason will then be seen. And will there not be with the amazing surprise at these revelations a strange and unaccountable gladness? But, no less, at the thought of the soul's past blindness and persistence in ill-doing, will there not be an exquisite pain? And the soul's pain can be even more oppressive than the pain of the body. "Pain," it may be asked, "in the Presence of Christ?" Yes, indeed! pain, because in the Presence of Christ; pain in remembering, and in the consciousness, new to the soul, of its utter unworthiness before Christ. The soul cannot fully feel it now, but it will feel it then. The fire of His love will kindle a fire of loving self-reproach. The weight of a heavy shame to think of the past, and to know now of His beauty, and His love, and His care, care for so careless a soul, love for a soul so loveless,--this will sting with an extreme severity the soul humbled before Him. And here we should do well to remember that, as the characters of each differ almost infinitely, whereby there are innumerable shades and degrees of every conceivable distinction of merit and of sin, so the proportion and depth of the pains which the souls will feel will vary equally. The pains of no two souls will be exactly the same. They will be measured out, in subtle and exact aptness to each, according to its guilt or goodness, precisely as the process of its purification shall require. There will be nothing unjust, nothing capricious in them. And thus the pain will surely be a very wholesome pain. What could more deepen penitence? The pain of self-reproach for unworthiness, and the pain of the sense of goodness in the Presence of Jesus Christ,--these two pains will purify the soul. No work of sanctification has ever been wrought in any soul without suffering. And none ever will. Even Christ Himself was not made perfect, as Man, without suffering. But the suffering in Paradise will be accompanied with an exquisite delight and joy. Do we not know, even here on earth, how near to each other very often are joy and sorrow? He whose spirit is swelling with a great gladness has often a sense of an undercurrent of great pain along with it. How often tears and laughter go together! So, in that home of the disembodied soul, the very process of purification will be marked by an intensity of joy and an intensity of pain. They will be simultaneous. Nay! increasingly, it may be, they will deepen in the soul. The nearer the soul reaches its perfection the more abounding may be its gladness, and the more piercing its compunction. Thus its very anguish will be a delight, and its very delight will be an anguish, and these will proceed, and advance, and increase until the soul is ripe for the Blessed Vision of GOD in Heaven. For He Which began the good work in the soul, here, in life, will, we may be very confident, never abandon it, nor suspend it, but will continue it and perfect it all through the after life, even until the day of Jesus Christ. VII. "Being put to death in the flesh, but quickened in the spirit: in which also He went and preached unto the spirits in prison, which aforetime were disobedient, when the longsuffering of GOD waited in the days of Noah, while the ark was a preparing." --1 PETER III. 18, 19, 20 (_R.V._) So far we have considered the case of those who die in the favour of GOD, and, though as yet unfit for the vision of GOD in Heaven itself, are nevertheless capable of becoming so in the course of the Intermediate Life. What, however, must be said of those who in life had light and knowledge of GOD and of His will, and yet hardened themselves against GOD; who were free, and in the exercise of their freedom rejected GOD? Of these unhappy souls, if there is no yielding of their will to GOD in the Intermediate Life, if, and so far as, they have absolutely made themselves by the fixedness of their choice incapable of yielding, if after death they still hate GOD and set the whole force of their determination against Him,--one can only fear that even GOD Himself cannot help them. On the supposition that the prerogative of free will, once for all given to man, must be respected by GOD, we are driven to the belief that GOD cannot force the will. It is not that GOD changes towards them. It is not necessary to suppose that He is even punishing them. He may still be in Himself all that He is to all, full of love towards them, full of pity, full of mercy. "His mercy is over all His works." He can no more cease to be a Father to every man than He can cease to be GOD. He hates nothing that He has made. But if the very knowledge and thought of GOD'S longsuffering patience serves only to harden and to exasperate, if it only stirs in the lost soul deeper pangs of inexorable hatred, then,--man being man and GOD being GOD,--what can GOD do? It is they who reject GOD, not GOD Who is rejecting them. It is they who spurn Him, not He Who chastises them. He does not banish them from His Presence: it is they who banish Him from their presence. And if this defiance against GOD survives and lasts, if, as ages pass, it becomes more resolutely inveterate and set, what power can stop it, what love can soften it? And if it is never to be pacified, and never yields, what shall hinder it from going on up to and beyond the Day of Judgment? It may be said that such utter determination is a moral impossibility, that no will of man could finally defy and resist the love of GOD. If that be so, well! But on the assumption that it is not impossible, the inference which has been drawn is inevitable. But there are others who in life have never heard of Christ, the millions of heathen in all ages and all lands since the world began, of whom it may truly be said that they never had a chance of salvation. To these may be added many who have indeed fallen in with Christianity, but with a Christianity of such a sort, presented to them in such a way, in such a form, and under such circumstances as almost naturally to create in their minds a really honest doubt and distrust of it. What shall be said of these honest unbelievers, and, scarcely through their own fault, blind? As to these, let us ask whether the doctrine of the Intermediate State can help to give us some better hope. In the text, {72} we are told that Christ was put to death upon the Cross in the flesh, but was quickened in His human Spirit, that is to say, that after His human Spirit left His Body it was still quick or alive. We know, from the Gospel of S. Luke, whither His human Spirit went. It went to Paradise. S. Peter now tells us what His Spirit did there. He tells us that it preached unto other spirits, and he names the spirits of those who for 120 years, while Noah was building the ark, were disobedient. They had rejected Noah, "the preacher of righteousness" {73} as S. Peter calls him; and now a greater Preacher went to preach to them. Further, we are told, that they were "in prison." The word should rather be rendered "in safe keeping," that is to say, still waiting, under GOD'S care, for this visit of Christ's human Spirit, when He should preach to them. Why the spirits of these men, who lived before the flood, are singled out for special mention, is a question that does not really bear upon the point which we have in hand. And we had better keep to that point, and not be tempted to digress. What then follows from this? Two things are clear,--first, that from as far back as the days before the flood, that is to say, from the very beginning of human life on earth, souls in the Intermediate State had been waiting in safe keeping all these many thousand years; and, secondly, that the disembodied soul of our Lord Jesus Christ visited them there and preached to them. Assuming that these souls had repented, however late, before they died, still we learn that something more than repentance was needful to them. In this case, it is clear that instruction was given to them. It would not have been given if it had not been necessary. And what instruction? Christ "proclaimed," we are told, to them. What did He proclaim? Surely the good news of the Gospel, {74} which He had been proclaiming on earth by the voice of the Apostles. What else did He make known than the mystery of His Incarnation and the Atonement which He had wrought out upon the Cross, in bearing the sins of men, and their sins, too, who had so long been waiting in the Intermediate State, to hear it to their salvation? S. Peter, therefore, in another place, says, "For this cause," that is, because Christ will Himself be the Judge of the living and the dead,--"for this cause was _the Gospel_ preached even to the dead." {75} Here, then, we have a set of facts which throw light upon some of the dark places of that unknown and unseen land, the Intermediate State. If we do justice to our Bibles we must regard these as facts, whether we can fully explain them or not. Scriptural facts they certainly are. What, then, can we learn from them? First, we seem to learn this,--that some provision is made in the Intermediate State for the salvation of those souls who in this life never heard of Christ, never had a chance, as we say, of salvation. And when we think of it, does it not seem to belong to GOD'S eternal justice that souls should not be condemned for that which they could not help? Every human soul must have had a chance of knowing Christ, before it can justly be punished for the consequences of not knowing Him. Countless millions in all ages, since the world began, in our own land, and in other lands, have never heard the good news of Jesus Christ in life. It is not so with us. With them it is and has been so. Christ preached to those who in safe keeping had been waiting long. Then is it not possible for such as those in all ages to receive the teaching in the Intermediate Life which they never received in this? Why should Christ preach to those and not to these? This hope helps to solve that harassing enigma which perplexes and oppresses so many of us,--I mean, as to the condition and future destiny of the heathen, and the outcast, and the blind, and the ignorant. There, in that stillness of the disembodied life, souls may be taught and trained to know what they never could know in this life on earth, the wonders and the blessings of the life in Christ. And, besides, do we not at least learn this from Christ's preaching to these souls, that intercourse and communication is _possible_ in the life after death, and will take place? And this suggests another aspect of the work in that life, besides the work of progressive cleansing and perfecting. The souls of the faithful rest from their labours. Yes! but they have also a work to do which can only be done then, the work of the soul's purification. The work, however, which they can do for others is better than that which can be done for themselves. What can they do for the souls of others? Can they not do what Christ's human spirit did? Here on earth men are charged, not only with the care of their own souls, but with the care of the souls of others also. And why should they not be ambassadors for Christ there, if Christ's work has to be done there? Here on earth He uses imperfect men to proclaim His Gospel. There, in that after life, if His Gospel is to be proclaimed to those that never heard it in this life, why should He not employ souls also, not yet perfected, upon the same happy task? And may not this charge, laid on ministering souls in the Intermediate Life, help to solve another mystery--the mystery of many an early and, as we might think, untimely death? How often do we see a life cut short at the very climax of its best powers, in the very midst of its noblest service! All the earlier days had been directed, and had contributed to the perfection of the instrument, and then, just when its work was doing, came the sudden end. Was it not so to our Blessed Lord Himself? May it not be said with due reverence that, if only His human life on earth had been prolonged, His teaching, and His miracles, and His sinlessness, and His love must have swayed and melted the hearts of men, even of those who so long and so stubbornly withstood Him? We might so think. But, just when His young life was at its prime of human excellence, He died, and His human Spirit passed to preach salvation to souls in the spirit land. So are souls, it may be, taken from us at the summit of their ripeness, but only to be transferred to another scene, and to be employed upon other work. Their labours change, but their works indeed do follow with them to that land where other souls of those who knew not Christ here may learn to know Him there, and knowing Him may choose Him, and choosing Him may be His and He theirs even to the end. VIII. "Not handling the word of GOD deceitfully, but by the manifestation of the truth commending ourselves to every man's conscience in the sight of GOD." --2 COR. IV. 2. The Scriptural doctrine of the Intermediate Life, as I have tried, so far, to set it forth, is a very different thing from what our Twenty-second Article calls "The Romish Doctrine concerning Purgatory." The word "purgatory" simply means the sphere or life of cleansing. The Intermediate State, therefore, during which the soul is being purified and fitted for the vision of GOD in Heaven may be legitimately called "a purgatory." But "The Romish Doctrine concerning Purgatory" means much more than this. It is a belief which, originating in what was true and Scriptural, gradually became so overlaid with subsequent additions, that the original truth was at length buried and lost sight of. What the Twenty-second Article condemns is not any and every conceivable doctrine concerning Purgatory, but the Romish doctrine only. And here it is well to note that all false beliefs which have had for any length of time a wide currency among men have been founded upon and have retained in them some element of truth. This it is which enabled them to survive: this and nothing else gives to error its vitality. These false beliefs are not mere error, but contain truth and error mixed together. The error perverts and makes void the truth; but without the truth the error could not live. In the case of the doctrine of Purgatory, the true and Scriptural doctrine of the progressive purification of the soul in the Intermediate State is the element of truth on which has been based the Romish Doctrine of Purgatory. Wherein then lies the error of it? 1. In the first place, whereas the Bible teaches, as we have seen, that every soul at death enters the Intermediate State, the souls of the greatest saints as well as the souls of the greatest sinners, "the Romish Doctrine" teaches that the souls of very many never enter the Intermediate State at all. The souls of the holy patriarchs of old, of Christian martyrs, and of canonized Saints, it is held, pass straight to heaven. On the other hand, the souls of those who die in mortal sin, and of excommunicated persons are believed to go straight to hell. Thus practically the Intermediate State is cancelled for these two classes. There remains, therefore, only one class which is supposed to enter the Intermediate State, those namely, who have died in venial sin. And since it is part of the Romish doctrine to regard Paradise as the same thing as Heaven, and to hold that the souls which alone enter Purgatory, after suffering due torments, pass direct out of Purgatory into Paradise or Heaven, it follows that in the Intermediate State are only those who are actually undergoing, for the time appointed, the pains of Purgatory. For all, therefore, eventually the Intermediate State is terminated at some time on this side of the Day of Judgment. Hence it came about that those who rejected the Romish Doctrine concerning Purgatory rejected along with it the doctrine of the Intermediate State, since, virtually, Purgatory and the Intermediate State had been regarded as practically one and the same thing, as indeed they were in duration conterminous. In rejecting the one therefore, men unhappily but almost naturally rejected the other also. 2. Further, the pains which are felt in the process of purification, as has been shown, spring from within the soul itself, and are not necessarily or for all inflicted as a torment or punishment from without. Rather they arise from the soul's own action upon itself, from its own pangs of shame and self-abasement, all deepened and made more poignant by the ever increasing sense of the love of Jesus Christ, then as never before apprehended, and by the holy vision of His perfections. Thereby, as they gaze on Him, they are changed by the influence of the sight of Him, into greater likeness to Him. On the other hand, contrast with these the nature of the pains which the Romish Doctrine assigns to the souls in Purgatory. They are held in all cases to be penal, that is to say, inflicted by GOD as punishment. The souls are said to suffer torments! {84} Moreover these torments, as is taught in Roman Catholic treatises on the subject, are caused by literal and material flames, by actual fires which would feed on and consume corporeal substances such as the human body. But what enters the Intermediate State is the soul only, not the body: and, in the nature of things, the sufferings of the incorporeal part of our being can only be themselves incorporeal. The pains of the spirit can only be spiritual pains. 3. Again, the "Romish Doctrine concerning Purgatory" is closely bound up with what are called in the Thirty-first Article "the Sacrifices of Masses," and with the sale of "Pardons" or Indulgences, named in the Twenty-second Article. The character of the Romish doctrine, as of every other doctrine, must be tested by what has grown with its growth. It was held that by these "Sacrifices of Masses" and "Indulgences" souls, one by one, were released from Purgatorial fires sooner than, without their aid, they could be delivered, and thus were at once admitted to Paradise or Heaven. What, however, does the Thirty-first Article precisely mean by "Sacrifices of Masses"? The expression is peculiar, and appears to have been designedly so shaped in order to be clearly distinguished from what is meant by the Sacrifice in the Mass, or Holy Communion. For that the Holy Communion has been held and taught by our chief English Divines to be a Sacrifice cannot well be disputed. {86} But the term "Sacrifices of Masses" was intended to signify what were called, at the time when the Article was drawn up, "Private Masses," which were offered chiefly for souls in Purgatory, and in return for money payment. The Article refers to modes of speaking prevalent on the lips of men at the time. It condemns that which was "_commonly said_." And what was it that was "commonly said"? It was commonly said that, while Christ's death on the Cross was indeed a propitiation for original or birth sin, on the other hand for daily sins, committed after Baptism, another propitiatory sacrifice was needed, _viz._, the "Sacrifice of the Mass." Thus the Sacrifice of the Mass, which is not the same thing as the Sacrifice _in_ the Mass, was regarded as an addition to and distinct from the Sacrifice on the Cross, as indeed a repetition of it, having a propitiatory value of its own, which the Sacrifice on the Cross had not; just as though it were what Bishop Gardiner, in repudiating it, described as "a new Redemption." {87} Hence it came about that the belief arose that Masses offered for specific purposes had more virtue for those purposes than what was called "a Common Mass." The practice, therefore, of offering "private Masses" for souls in Purgatory, as it was very lucrative, so it became very prevalent. Thus spiritual things were used for the purpose of bringing large money gains to the Chantry Priests, and what should be, and we may surely affirm was meant to be, for the common benefit of all became the narrow privilege of the few. For rich men could provide Masses for their dead friends and for themselves after death, which it was quite out of the power of the poor to provide. {88} 4. But a word also must be said about "Indulgences." An Indulgence was an abatement or remission granted by the Church's authority of some part of the temporal penance imposed by that authority upon an evil doer. If the guilty person should show sincere proofs of penitence, or by liberal giving of alms made satisfactory recompense for wrongs done, his penance might be eased, or the term of his excommunication shortened, and his Church privileges partly or wholly restored. It may well be understood how all this might be very wisely and fitly done. The authority which inflicted the penance may rightly have been entrusted with the power also of mitigating or removing it. But gradually this remission of the temporal punishment for sins done in the past became applicable, not seldom, to future sin also: and it soon was no uncommon thing to grant Indulgences for 500, or 10,000, and even for 50,000 years. And, since these long periods of years would, of course, extend beyond any man's term of life on earth, it was obvious that they were intended to secure the remission, not indeed of the guilt of the sin, but of the temporal punishment of sin during all these years in Purgatory. Thus it was supposed that the best possible provision was made whereby the duration of the long years of torments due for sin in Purgatory might be curtailed. But worse remained. The Papal Court needed treasure. And in an evil moment permission was given that these Indulgences might be sold for money. Thus grew up an unholy traffic, which, as we all know, first roused in Germany the storm of the Reformation. Subsequently, the Papal authorities so far yielded as to forbid all taking of money for these Indulgences. But the system itself had meantime taken deep root. It continued, and continues to this day. It was, however, at its worst when the Twenty-second Article was drawn up. Can we be surprised that it sternly condemned it? It is all a pitiful history. But it was necessary to refer to it in order both to show how the growth of the Romish Doctrine of Purgatory gradually gathered round it mischievous accretions, and also to prove how little the belief, that in the Intermediate State there is a progressive advance of the soul in holiness towards perfection, is like the Romish teaching and practice. But it would be an act of disloyalty to the truth, and of cowardice into the bargain, if we should abandon or minimize a truth because it has been by some corrupted and perverted. Many a truth which has come down to us may have lost some of the fresh lustre of its early purity. But all the same, if it is the truth we cannot let it go. And that truth which tells us something of the land, now beyond our sight, to which our dear ones have already passed, which we shall each of us ourselves soon enter--the truth which GOD has made known to us in Holy Scripture about this land, we cannot afford to ignore and disregard. Nothing is easier than to discredit such a truth by raising the cry of Popery. It is one of the penalties which those have to pay who seek to disentangle the truth which He has in His Church revealed from the untruth which has wrapped it round. But we must not shrink from this duty. In days when principles are questioned, and almost all truths disputed, we must, at all hazards, learn to keep our sight clear and our footing steady. For the Lord is our Light and our Salvation. Whom then shall we fear? The Lord is the strength of our life: of whom then shall we be afraid? {92} IX. "The Lord grant unto him that he may find mercy of the Lord in that day."--2 TIM. I. 18. We must now bring to a close the discussion which has been occupying our attention: not that everything has been said that can or ought to be said about it; for the interest of the subject grows with the handling of it, as the various features of it open out to view. So far we have been dealing with the condition of the faithful dead as it affects themselves, with the mode of their own conscious life in the Intermediate State, and with the nature of their own progressive advance towards perfection. But there is another aspect of the question, about which nothing has hitherto been said, I mean, their relation to us who are still living on earth. A few words, and they must be very few, must be said on this point. It is asked, for example, whether the veil has completely shut out all knowledge of what is passing on earth from those who have gone to their rest. No doubt, we can know very little about this. But, at all events, we do not know enough to warrant us in saying with any confidence that they are aware of nothing that is going on here. It is true that, as has been said, the door that opens between this life and that life only "open inwards," and that none have come back to tell us what in that after life they knew about us and about our doings on earth. Yet this ignorance of ours is not the same thing as knowledge of the contrary, any more than silence is always equivalent to denial. Because we cannot see with our eyes, nor hear with our ears, and cannot, by our actual senses, put the question to the test, we are not on this account justified in denying. Do we not know almost nothing as to the limits of the powers of the spirit world? All we can say, so far as reason can be our guide, is this, that it is _possible_ that souls in the Intermediate State, if they are conscious of themselves and of their present condition, if they retain memory, if they have means of holding intercourse with one another, may have means of knowing what goes on here: I say that reason will tell us that this is at least possible, and that it is quite impossible to prove the contrary. But does the Bible throw any light upon this mysterious subject? I think it does. It will be remembered how, in the narrative of the rich man and Lazarus, Abraham is made to say to the rich man, "They have Moses and the Prophets, let them hear them." We may ask, how could Abraham, who lived more than 400 years before the birth of Moses, have known of the existence of Moses, if there were no possible means of communication, by which occurrences on earth could be made known in the unseen world where Abraham was? What could he know of the prophets who lived more than a thousand years after his time, if no possible communication could find its way to that other world? {96} And we may trust this inference because, in a narrative of this kind, whether it be historical or not, it is not to be supposed that our Lord would have introduced a false detail. Let us, however, turn to another passage. In the scene on the Mount of the Transfiguration there appeared, talking with Christ, Moses and Elijah. In what condition were they present? They were still in the Intermediate State. The general Resurrection had not, and has not yet, come. "In glory" they appeared. Yes! some outward clothing, as of a bodily form, gloriously radiant was thrown round them, so that they became visible for the time to the eyes of the three disciples. But in no resurrection bodies did they come; for in those they could not yet present themselves, since they had not yet received them. And what was the theme of their conversation? They spoke, we are told, with Christ concerning the exodus or "death, which He should accomplish at Jerusalem." But how could they speak fitly of this great theme, if they had no knowledge of the circumstances which were leading to it, of the nature of Christ's Incarnate Life on earth, and something at least or the real significance, known fully to the mind of GOD only, of His approaching death? They must have known not only of each other, who and what they had been historically in their own generation, but also what was now passing on earth, the course and connection of prophecies and types, and the succession of events in history which had led up to this climax of the fulness of time. Thus we see that the hearts of these two visitants,--visitants not from Heaven, but from Paradise,--were fastened with a keen interest and strained attention upon the unfolding of that wondrous Life of Christ. His works and words were the theme of their adoring contemplation. May we not learn then, that what these two great Saints could do was, therefore, at least a possible thing to do, and, according to the will of GOD, a thing which others might also do? {98} If so, the barrier between Paradise and earth is so far transparent on that further side, that what GOD permits souls in the Intermediate Life to know, that they do actually see and know of the occurrences that are passing here. {99} But I must hasten to the answer of another question. Do they pray for us? Surely that question is as good as answered by what has just been said. If those who have gone from our sight are still permitted to know what it may be good for them to know of the trials and sorrows, the hopes and fears, the temptations and the warfare to which we, whom they loved so well and still love, are exposed on earth, we are sure that they take thought of us and pray for us. Shall not they whose eyes are opened, now that they are with Christ, care for and pray for those whom they have left behind, tossing still upon the troubled seas, and buffeted by the vexing winds and storms of this earthly life? They are, moreover, "with Christ." What does this really imply,--to be "with Christ"? It must mean at least this, that, where Christ is, there is the Church. And Christ, though He has ascended to the Right Hand of GOD, is still in a true sense in Paradise also. For "He filleth all in all." {100a} S. Stephen, before his death, prayed, "Lord Jesus, receive my spirit." Our Lord, therefore, must have been there in Paradise to receive it. S. Paul, long after our Lord's Ascension, knew that to die was better than to live, because it was to be absent from the body and present with the Lord. {100b} But if Christ is there, He must be the object of the worship of those who are also there. So then if Christ be there, and the Church is there, and worship is offered there, then it follows that the whole energy of Church life is there. The souls in Paradise are not so many isolated and individual units. The Church unites them. They are organised in the exercise of worship, sustained, as it surely is, in unfailing and perpetual intensity. As the incense of our worship rises here, it blends with the incense that ascends to Christ there. The Church is militant on earth, it is expectant in Paradise, it will be hereafter triumphant in Heaven. Yet these are not three Churches, but one Church. And this helps us to see more clearly what is meant by the Communion of Saints. The Church on earth and the Church in Paradise are one, and one thrill of spiritual communion vibrates through its members there and here. But is prayer to be one sided? Communion is not one sided. And communion implies that what they do for us, we should also do for them. This brings us to one more question. May we, then, pray for those who have passed on before us? Let us plainly say that there is every reason for and none against the practice. We have in favour of it the sanction of Bible witness, of primitive Church custom, of Christian and human instinct. In the Jewish synagogues in our Lord's time, prayers for the dead formed part of the service. {102} Our Lord therefore, Who regularly frequented the synagogue worship, must have been present at times when prayers for the dead were used. If He had disapproved of such prayers, He must have condemned the use of them. But did He? He did not. We have then His tacit sanction of them. S. Paul again, a Hebrew of the Hebrews, must have warned the Gentiles against the practice, unless he approved of it. But so far from that, there is every reason to suppose that he himself prayed for Onesiphorus. According to the best commentators, Onesiphorus was dead when S. Paul wrote the words quoted in the text, "The Lord grant unto him that he may find mercy of the Lord in that day," _viz._, in the Day of Judgment. {103a} He does not pray for temporal blessings, for health, or even for grace. If it was too late to pray for these things, this omission is quite intelligible. The earliest Church Liturgies contained in them prayers for the dead. {103b} And the earliest Christian writers, as well as the inscriptions on tombs bear such witness to the existence of this primitive practice, that it cannot be disputed. It is true that our English Prayer Book neither expressly sanctions nor yet expressly forbids these intercessions. But in the Liturgy, in the Litany, and in the Burial Service, prayers occur which appear to have been purposely so worded, as to lend themselves to a reference in the minds of worshippers to the faithful dead, if any should desire so to apply them. Bishop Cosin, one of the chief compilers of our present Prayer Book, writes that the words, "that we and Thy whole Church may obtain remission of our sins, and all other benefits of His Passion," occurring in our Liturgy, are to be understood to refer as well to "those who have been here before," that is to say, who have died in the Lord, as to those "that are now members of it," that is, who still are living. {104} And is not the custom reasonable? Are we to pray for those whom we dearly love up to the very last moment of their life, and then for ever to refrain? We could understand this on the supposition that death was the end of all things, or that at death there followed an immediate heaven or an instant hell; but not if the process of purification and of real Church life are continuing after death. And Christian instinct urges it. GOD is a Father. As children we ought to tell Him all that is in our heart. Whatever we may rightly desire we may rightly pray for. It is only that which we ought not to desire that we ought not to pray for. It is not right to pray that they may, as by a miracle, be restored to us; that is not the will of GOD. Nor is it right that we should seek by occult and forbidden ways to hold converse with them. But we may surely ask for them what S. Paul asked for his friend, that they may find mercy in that day, that they may have rest and peace and light and refreshment, the joy of Christ's Presence, and the gladness of a blessed Resurrection. And now these words must be brought to a close. The arguments which have been urged rest upon the very language of Holy Scripture, or upon legitimate inferences from it. What then? If they are worthy of trust, to accept them is to rob death of half its fears and alarms. It is the unknown that inspires terror. To know but a little more than we before knew of the land in which those who have gone before now sojourn, is to gather fresh courage to face it with less misgiving for them and for ourselves. They have passed on, but they await us there. They are only hidden from us for a little while. Their voices are silent. But their life is as real a life as ours. No dull oblivion weighs them down. They live and think and see and know,--know, it may be, more of us than we think, know as much of us as it is for their happiness to know. A little while and we also shall know as they know, and see as they see, in the home and resting place of vision and of peace. Footnotes: {5} Rev. xxi. 27. {8} 2 Cor. v. 10. {14} Acts xxiv. 15. {15} See Luckock, "The Intermediate State," pp. 14, 15. {17} S. John xx. 17. {19} The expression is borrowed from the custom among the Jews of reclining instead of sitting at a banquet. The guest was stretched upon a couch, his left elbow resting upon a cushion close to the table, his feet being towards the outer side of the couch, which was away from the table. By slightly bending back his head he could touch with it the breast of the guest on his left hand, and speak to him in a low voice. Thus S. John bent back upon our Lord's breast at the Last Supper to ask Him, "Lord, who is it?" and is therefore spoken of as "he who leant upon His breast at supper." To sit therefore, or to rest in the bosom of Abraham, represented the happy lot of those who had passed to Paradise. {23} Mozley, Univ. Serm., p. 155. {24a} Isaiah xxxiii. 17. {24b} Psalm xvi. 11. {24c} 1 John iii. 2. {25a} 1 Peter v. 4. {25b} 1 John iii. 2. {25c} Col. iii. 4. {25d} 2 Tim. iv. 3. {26} Advent Sermon, "The Day of the Lord." {28} Rev. vi. 9, 10, 11 (_Revised Version_). {34a} 1 Thess. v. 23. But the A.V. hardly brings out the full force of the distinction. The definite article has a possessive force, as if it were "_your_ spirit, _your_ soul, _your_ body"; as though the spirit was as distinct from the soul as each of them is distinct from the body. {34b} Heb. iv. 12. {34c} 1 Cor. ii. 14. {35a} 1 Cor. xv. 44. {35b} S. James iii. 15. {35c} Jude 19. {35d} Gen. ii. 7. {37} Mason, "Faith of the Gospel," p. 85. {41a} For example, Acts vii. 60; S. John xi. 11, 14; 1 Thess. v. 14; 1 Cor. xv. 18, 20. {41b} Rev. xiv. 13. {43} Phil i. 21. {44} 1 Peter iii. 18. {47} Isaiah i. 2. {63} See p. 100 _infra_. {72} In the A.V. the words in v. 18 are printed differently from the R.V. In the former the reading is "quickened by the Spirit," as though S. Peter meant to assert, that it was by the special operation of GOD the Holy Ghost that our Lord, after He died upon the Cross, still lived. But this rendering entirely destroys the evident antithesis which is marked in the contrast between "put to death" and "quickened," and between "flesh" and "spirit." That antithesis limits the effect of Christ's death to His human Body, while His human Spirit was still alive. {73} 2 Peter ii. 5. {74} The same word is used constantly in the N.T. for the special proclamation of the Gospel. {75} 1 Peter iv. 6. {84} Thus the Catechism of the Council of Trent states that "There is a Purgatorial Fire where the souls of _the righteous_ being tormented are purified." {86} In the Holy Communion the priest and the people offer to the Father "the one full, perfect, and sufficient Sacrifice, oblation, and satisfaction for the sins of the whole world." The Christian Society is called in 1 Peter ii. 9, a "royal _priesthood_," ([Greek]), and in Rev. i. 6 "kings and _priests to God_." ([Greek]); and as [Greek] and [Greek] are sacrificial terms, it is to be inferred that a Sacrifice is really offered by them. As Christ perpetually, being a "Priest forever," and therefore "having of necessity something to offer" for ever (Heb. viii. 3), presents in the Holy Place not made with hands, in Heaven itself, the Sacrifice of Himself before the eyes of the Father, so, at every Altar on earth, the "kings and priests" being a sacrificing priesthood, represent and commemorate the same sacrifice and none other, a sacrifice which never can be repeated. {87} See Dr. Maclear on the Articles, p. 368. If the Sacrifice on the Cross served one purpose and effected one propitiation, and the Sacrifice of the Mass another, then the inference is that they were themselves, so far, different things. It was the same Body of Christ which was offered in each case, but the sacrifices of the same Body were different. Therefore the Sacrifice of the Mass was a repetition of the Sacrifice on the Cross for a distinct object and a distinct purpose. It was supplementary, and supplied a defect which the Sacrifice on the Cross failed to supply! {88} What has been said on the subject of "The Sacrifices of Masses" for souls in Purgatory must not be understood as implying that the Sacrifice in the Holy Communion has no efficacy, when pleaded in behalf of the souls in the Intermediate State. To use the words of Bishop Forbes, "The application of the Blessed Eucharist to the departed must in our Church stand and fall with the practice of prayers for the dead. In its aspect of the great oblation, the Holy Communion may be considered as prayer in its most intense and highest form. If it is unlawful to pray for the faithful departed, it must be unlawful to remember them in the sacred mysteries; but, if the first be permitted, the second must be so likewise." (Article XXXI., p. 63.) The subject of Prayers for the Dead is dealt with in the next Address, page 101 _sq._ {92} Psalm xxvii. 1. {96} A friend has suggested that Moses and the prophets may, one after the other, have reported to Abraham the occurrences on earth in which they had severally themselves taken part, and that, therefore, we have in this narrative no more than an illustration of the mutual intercourse which exists in the Intermediate Life. To this it may be replied that this suggestion, so far from discrediting, really confirms the argument in the sermon. The suggestion is an attempt to explain the mode by which knowledge of what passes here is attained, which is certainly no disproof of the existence of such knowledge. But it is safer to say that, some how or other, the denizens of the Intermediate State do probably know, as Abraham certainly knew, occurrences on earth. {98} Both these illustrations are, I find, referred to by Canon McColl in his "Life Here and Hereafter," pp. 105, 106. But may I presume to question the value of his illustration of our Lord's knowledge of what was said, in His absence, on the way to Emmaus, and by S. Thomas? Our Lord's knowledge after His Resurrection, and indeed at any time, is scarcely on a level with the knowledge possessed by souls in the Intermediate State of what passes on earth. {99} There is so much doubt as to the bearing upon this point of the words in Hebrews xii. 1, that I have not referred to it. Yet I would suggest that the comparison of our life on earth to the endeavours of the runners in the games of the amphitheatre implies that those efforts are made under the gaze of a cloud of spectators. The existence of the spectators, and their interest in the contests, are integral facts in the similitude, and essential elements in it. {100a} Eph. i. 23. {100b} 2 Cor. v. 8. {102} See 2 Macc. xii. 44, 45. {103a} See Plummer, Expositor, Pastoral Epp., p. 324. {103b} Forbes on 39 Articles, p. 612. {104} See the note on p. 88, Address viii. _supra_. 
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22735	----	[Illustration: Cover art] THE KING OF THE JEWS A STORY OF CHRIST'S LAST DAYS ON EARTH _ADAPTED FROM THE OBERAMMERGAU PASSION PLAY_ By WILLIAM T. STEAD CHICAGO: The Church Press 104 LaSALLE AVENUE Copyright 1900 and 1902 By George T. B. Davis. CONTENTS. I--JESUS DRIVES OUT MONEY CHANGERS II--JESUS' LAST JOURNEY TO JERUSALEM III--THE LAST SUPPER IV--BETRAYED BY A KISS V--PETER COMMITS PERJURY VI--JUDAS HANGS HIMSELF VII--JESUS, PILATE AND HEROD VIII--"JESUS OR BARABBAS" IX--THE CRUCIFIXION X--CONCLUSION ILLUSTRATIONS. The entry into Jerusalem "Knelt down and anointed Jesus' feet." "Drinking of it he passed the cup to Peter." "He reached over and kissed him." "What accusation have you to bring against this man?" "Jesus staggered under the cross." "It is finished." He is risen. CHAPTER I. JESUS DRIVES OUT THE MONEY-CHANGERS. Cast thyself down in adoring love, Race bowed down by the curse of God! Peace and grace out of Zion above! He is not wroth forever, Though his wrath be just--though uplifted his rod. Thus saith he, who changeth never: "I will not the death of a sinner--I will forgive-- Let him live!" And he gave up his son the world from sin to free, Praise and thanks we give, Eternal, to thee! Suddenly there was heard a noise of singing. A great multitude came pouring down the narrow street that runs past Pilate's house, chanting as they came, "Hail to thee, O Son of David!" Little children, old men and maidens ran forward, some raising palm branches, but all ever looking backward to one who should come. More and ever more streamed down the street into the open space in front of the temple, but still the Hosanna song went on. [Illustration: The entry into Jerusalem.] At last, in the midst of the jubilant throng, Jesus appeared, clad in a long garment of gray, over which was cast a flowing robe. His face was composed and pensive. His long black hair and beard surrounded features somewhat swarthy from the rays of the hot sun, and he rode on the side of the ass's colt that seemed almost too small to support his weight. John, the beloved disciple, dressed in green raiment with a red mantle, led the little ass, carrying in his hand a long pilgrim staff. The mob pressed tumultuously around, singing and crying: "Hosanna to the Son of David!" Jesus blessed them as he rode through their midst. After passing the house of Pilate he suddenly dismounted. Then Jesus advanced to the front of the temple. The hosannas died away as he contemplated the busy scene. There were the priests busily engaged with the money-changers. Nathanael, chief orator of the Sanhedrin, stood conspicuous among the chattering throng. There were baskets with pigeons for sale as sacrifices. There were the tables of the dealers. Buying and selling, haggling and bargaining were in full swing in the market-place. For a moment Jesus, who was above the average height, and whose mien was dignified and commanding, stood as if amazed and indignant, then suddenly burst out upon the astonished throng of priests and merchants, with the following protest: "What see I here? Shall my Father's house be thus dishonored? Is this the house of God, or is it a market-place? How can the strangers who come from the land of the Gentiles to worship God perform their devotions in this tumult of usury? And you," he continued, advancing a step toward the priests, who stared at him in amazement, "You priests, guardians of the temple, can you see this abomination and permit it to continue? Woe be unto you! He who searches the heart knows why you encourage such disorder." The crowd, silent now, watched with eager interest the money-changers and priests, who but imperfectly understanding what had been said to them, stared at the intruder. "Who can this man be?" they asked. And then from the lips of all the multitude there went up the simultaneous response, as if the whole throng had but one voice: "It is the great prophet from Nazareth, in Galilee!" Jesus, then moving forward into the midst of the astonished merchants in the temple, exclaimed, in words of imperious authority: "Away with you from here, servants to Mammon! I command it. Take what belongs to you and quit the holy place!" One of the traders exclaimed in terror: "Come, let us go, that his wrath destroy us not." Then the priests, recovering somewhat their self-possession, stepped forward to remonstrate. "Why troublest thou this people?" they asked. "Everything here is for sacrifice. How canst thou forbid that which the council has allowed?" And then the traders, led by one Dathan, chimed in, in eager chorus: "Must there then be no more sacrifices?" For answer Jesus stood forth and exclaimed: "There is room enough outside the temple for your business. 'My house,' says the Lord, 'shall be called a house of prayer for all nations;' you have made it a den of thieves." And then crying, "Away with all this!" with one vigorous movement he overturned the tables of the money-changers. A rabbi exclaimed: "This must not be--thou darest not do this!" but his voice passed unheeded in the tumult. The earthenware vessels fell crashing to the ground, the money was scattered over the floor. Some of the dismayed merchants crying, "My money, oh! my money," scrambled for the glittering coins. Others stared in fury at the unceremonious intruder. Half a dozen doves, released from their wicker baskets, took to flight amid the despairing lamentation of their owners: "Oh, my doves; who will compensate me for this loss?" Their lamentations were rudely cut short. A small rope was hanging near by. Seizing it in the middle and twisting it once or twice round his hand, Jesus converted it into a whip of cords, with which he drove out the traders. "Away! get you hence. I will that this desecrated place be restored to the worship of the Father!" The traders fled, but the priests remained, and, after muttering together, they asked in angry tones: "By what miraculous sign dost thou prove that thou hast the power to act in this wise?" Jesus answered them: "You seek after a sign; yea, a sign shall be given unto you. Destroy this temple, and in three days I will have built it up again." The priests replied, contempt mingling with indignation in their tones: "What a boastful declaration! Six and forty years was this temple in building, and thou wilt build it up again in three days!" At this point the children who had been standing around watching the altercation with the dealers, cried out in unison with their elders: "Blessed be he that cometh in the name of the Lord!" The priests, shocked at their homage, were sorely displeased, and appealed to Jesus, saying: "Hearest thou what they say? Forbid them!" They paused for his reply. Then Jesus answered and said unto them: "I say unto you, if they were silent the very stones would cry out." Encouraged by this emphatic approval, the children cried out once more, louder than ever, the sound of their childish voices filling the temple: "Hosanna to the Son of David!" Then the Pharisees, who stood by the overthrown tables of the money-changers, spoke up and said angrily to the little ones: "Silence, you silly children!" Jesus turned to them and said: "Have you never read 'Out of the mouths of babes and sucklings thou hast perfected praise.' That which is hidden from the proud is revealed unto babes?" And as the priests and Pharisees muttered in indignation among themselves, he continued: "For the Scripture must be fulfilled. The stone which the builders rejected is become the headstone of the corner. The Kingdom of God shall be taken from you and it shall be given to a people which shall bring forth the fruits thereof. But that stone, whosoever shall fall upon it shall be broken, but on whomsoever it shall fall it shall grind him to powder. Come, my disciples, I have done what the Father has commanded me, I have vindicated the honor of his house. The darkness remains darkness, but in many hearts it will soon be day. Let us go into the inner court of the temple that we may there pray unto the Father." Thereupon Jesus, followed by his disciples, disappeared in the interior of the temple, while the people cried aloud as with one voice: "Praise be to the anointed one!" and the priests said angrily: "Silence, rabble!" The Pharisees adding: "Ye shall all be overthrown with your leader." To which the crowd responded by crying louder than ever: "Blessed be the Kingdom of David which again appears!" Then Nathanael, a leading man in the Sanhedrin, tall and well favored, wearing a horned mitre, and possessing the tongue of an orator, stood forth, and seeing Jesus had departed and that there was now no one to withstand him in the hearing of the people, lifted up his voice and cried: "Whosoever holds with our fathers Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, let him stand by us! The curse of Moses upon all the rest!" Then a rabbi in blue velvet apparel, sprang forward and declared with a loud voice: "He is a deceiver of the people, an enemy of Moses, an enemy of the Holy Law!" The people answered mockingly: "Then, if so, why did you not arrest him? Is he not a prophet?" Several of the multitude followed Jesus into the temple, but the rest remained listening to the priests, who cried more vehemently than ever: "Away with the prophet! He is a false teacher." But Nathanael, seizing the opportunity, thus addressed the remainder of the multitude: "Oh, thou blinded people, wilt thou run after the innovator, and forsake Moses, the prophets, and thy priests? Fearest thou not that the curse which the law denounces against the apostate will crush thee? Would you cease to be the chosen people?" The crowd shaken by this appeal, responded sullenly: "That would we not." Nathanael pressed his advantage. "Who," he asked, "has to watch over the purity of the law? Is it not the holy Sanhedrin of the people of Israel? To whom will you listen; to us or to him? To us or to him who has proclaimed himself the expounder of a new law?" Then the multitude cried all together: "We hear you! we follow you!" Nathanael continued: "Down with him, then, this man full of deceit and error!" The people replied: "Yes, we stand side by side with you! Yes, we are Moses' disciples!" and the priests answered, speaking all together: "The God of your fathers will bless you for that." At this moment loud and angry voices were heard approaching down the narrow street that led to the house of Annas, the high priest. The priests and Pharisees listened eagerly. As they caught the word "revenge" they turned to each other with exultant looks. Meanwhile Dathan, a merchant, the chief of the traders who had been driven from the temple, was seen to be leading on his fellow merchants, who were lifting up their hands and weeping as they recounted their losses. They shouted confusedly as they came: "This insult must be punished! Revenge! Revenge! He shall pay dearly for his insolence. Money, oil, salt; doves--he must pay for all. Where is he, that he may experience our vengeance?" The priests replied: "He has conveyed himself away." "Then," cried the traders, "we will pursue him." But Nathanael, seeing what advantage might result from the discontent of the merchants, arrested their pursuit. "Stay friends," he said; "the faction that follows this man is at present too large. If you attacked them it might cause a dangerous fight, which the Roman sword would finish. Trust to us. He shall not escape punishment." And the priests who stood around Nathanael cried: "With us and for us: that is your salvation!" Then Dathan and his friends exclaimed triumphantly: "Our victory is near." Nathanael assured of the control of the multitude, continued: "We are now going to inform the council of the Sanhedrin of today's events." The traders impatiently exclaimed: "We will go with you. We must have satisfaction." But Nathanael dissuaded them, saying: "Come in an hour's time to the forecourt of the high priest. I will plead your cause in the council, and bring forward your complaint." And as Nathanael and the priests and the Pharisees went out, the traders and the people cheered them, crying aloud: "We have Moses! Down with every other! We are for Moses' law to the death! Praise be to our fathers! Praise to our father's God!" * * * * * * Then the high priests and the rulers and the elders gathered together late in the night in the council of the Sanhedrin. In the highest place sat Caiaphas with his jewelled breast-plate, in robes of white embroidered with gold. A vestment of green and gold covered his shoulders, and on his head he wore a white-horned mitre adorned with golden bells, which added to the majesty of his aspect. Annas, the aged high priest, sat on his left. Nathanael, also on the raised dais, was on the right. Below him sat the rabbis in blue velvet, while seated around were Pharisees, scribes and doctors of the law. Caiaphas, whose white hair and beard showed that he was well stricken in years, was still in the full vigor of life. As president of the Sanhedrin, he briefly opened the session: "Honored brothers, fathers and teachers of the people, an extraordinary occurrence is the occasion of the present extraordinary assembly. Listen to it from the mouth of our worthy brother." Then Nathanael arose, and standing on the right hand of Caiaphas, said: "Is it allowed; O, fathers, to say a word?" All answered: "Yes, speak! speak!" Then said Nathanael: "Marvel not, O fathers, that you should be called together at so late an hour for the transaction of business. It must be only too well known to you what we have with shame been compelled to see today with our own eyes. You have seen the triumphal progress of the Galilean through the Holy City. You have heard the Hosannas of the befooled populace. You have perceived how this ambitious man arrogates to himself the office of the high priest. What now lacks for the destruction of all civil and ecclesiastical order? Only a few steps further, and the law of Moses is upset by the innovations of this misleader. The sayings of our forefathers are despised, the fasts and purifications abolished, the Sabbath desecrated, the priests of God deprived of their office, and the holy sacrifices are at an end." As Nathanael concluded, all the fathers of the council exclaimed with one voice: "True--most true." As he had been speaking they had been interchanging notes of appreciative and sympathetic comment. But it was not until Caiaphas spoke that the Sanhedrin was roused to the highest pitch of excitement. Caiaphas, who spoke with great fire and fervor, thus addressed the rulers of Israel: "And more than all this. Encouraged by the success of his efforts, he will proclaim himself King of Israel (murmurs of alarm and indignation), then the land will be distracted with civil war and revolt, and the Romans will come with their armies and bring destruction upon our land and our people. Woe is me for the children of Israel, for the Holy City, and for the temple of the Lord, if no barrier is opposed to the evil while there is yet time! It is indeed high time. We must be the saviors of Israel. Today must a resolution be passed, and whatever is resolved upon must be carried out without regard to any other consideration. Do we all agree to this?" And all the Sanhedrin as one man cried out: "We do." Up sprang a priest to emphasize his vote: "A stop must be put to the course of this misleader." Caiaphas then said: "Give your opinion without reserve as to what should be done." And then a rabbi arose and said: "If I may be permitted to declare my opinion unreservedly, I must assert that we ourselves are to blame that things have come to such a pass. Against this onrushing ruin much too mild measures have been employed. Of what avail have been our disputations with him, or what has it profited that we have by our questionings, put him in a dilemma; that we have pointed, out the errors in his teaching and his violations of the law? Nay, of what use has been even the excommunication pronounced on all who acknowledged him as the Messiah? All this was labor in vain. Men turn their backs on us, and all the world runs after him. To restore peace to Israel, that must be done which ought to have been done long ago--we must arrest him and throw him into prison. That is the only way to put an end to his evil influence." The suggestion was hailed with enthusiasm, and springing to their feet they cried: "Yea, that must be done!" Then a third priest stood up and said: "Once he is in prison, the credulous people will no longer be attracted by the fascination of his manner or the charm of his discourse. When they have no more miracles to gape at; he will soon be forgotten." And a fourth priest exulted as he added: "In the darkness of his dungeon let him make his light shine and proclaim his Messiahship to the walls of the jail." Then it was the turn of the Pharisees. The first said: "He has been allowed long enough to lead the people astray and to denounce as hypocrisy the strict virtue of the Holy Order of the Pharisees. Let him suffer in fetters for his contempt." A second Pharisee added complacently: "The enthusiasm of his hangers-on will soon cool down when he who has promised them freedom is himself in chains." By this time it was evident all the council was of one mind. Then Annas, the venerable high priest, arose and addressed the Sanhedrin with much emotion: "Now, venerable priests, a ray of confidence and joy penetrates to my breast when I see your unanimous resolution. Alas! an unspeakable grief has weighed down my soul at the sight of the onward progress of the false teachings of this Galilean. It seemed as if I had lived to old age but in order to have the misfortune of seeing the downfall of our holy law. But now I will not despair. The God of our fathers still lives, and he is with us. If you have the courage to act boldly, and to stand firmly and faithfully together, there is safety at hand. Take courage, steadfastly pursue the aim in view, and be the deliverer of Israel, and undying fame will be your reward." With one accord all answered and said: "We are of one mind," while the priests added, shouting eagerly, "Israel must be saved!" Then Caiaphas began: "All honor to your unanimous resolution, worthy brethren, but now let me have the benefit of your wise counsels how we can most safely bring this deceiver into our power." "It might be dangerous," remarked the first Pharisee, "to seize him now at the time of the feast. In the streets or in the temple he is everywhere surrounded by a mob of infatuated followers. It could easily lead to an uproar." Then cried all the priests together with a loud voice, as if impatient that one should speak at a time: "But something must be done at once. The matter brooks no delay. Perhaps at the feast he might raise a commotion, and then it might come to pass that we should be consigned to the place which we have destined for him." "No delay;" cried some other priests, "no delay!" Then the second Pharisee stood up and said: "We cannot now seize him openly with the strong hand. We must carry out our scheme cunningly and in secret. Let us find out where he usually spends the night; then we could fall upon him unobserved and take him into custody." Nathanael sprang to his feet, for the auspicious moment had come,--the furious merchants from the temple were without in the courtyard. "To track the fox to his lair will not be difficult. We could then soon find someone to help, if it should please the high council to offer a large reward." Caiaphas at once put the resolution to the Sanhedrin. Rising from his seat he said, "If you, assembled fathers, agree, then in the name of the high council I will issue notice that whoever knows of his nightly resort, and will inform us of the same, will be rewarded for his pains." With one voice the rulers and chief priests and scribes cried out, rising from their seats, "We are all agreed." Then said Nathanael, "Without doubt we could secure the services, as informers, of those men whom the Galilean today has injured so deeply in the sight of all the people, driving them with a scourge out of the temple. From of old they were zealous of the law, but now they are thirsting for revenge against him who has made so unheard-of an attack upon their privileges." "But where," said Caiaphas, "are these traders to be found?" "They are waiting," said Nathanael, "in readiness in the outer court. I have promised them to be the advocate of their cause before the holy Sanhedrin, and they await our decision." "Worthy priest," said Caiaphas, "inform them that the high council is disposed to listen to their grievance, and bring them in." Nathanael as he went said, "This will be a joy to them and of great use to us." When Nathanael left the hall, Caiaphas addressed the council with words of cheer: "The God of our fathers has not withdrawn his hand from us. Moses still watches over us. If only we can succeed in gathering around us a nucleus of men out of the people then I no longer dread the result. Friends and brethren, let us be of good courage, our fathers look down upon us from Abraham's bosom." "God bless our high priest!" rang through the hall as Nathanael, followed by Dathan and the other traders, returned to his place. He introduced them thus: "High priests and chosen teachers! These men, worthy of our blessing, appear before this assembly in order to lodge a complaint against the notorious Jesus of Nazareth, who has today insulted them in the temple in an unheard-of fashion and brought them to grief." Then with one voice the traders, led by Dathan, cried out, "We beseech the council to procure us satisfaction. The council ought to support our righteous demands." The priests and Pharisees responded eagerly, "You shall have satisfaction, we will answer for that." Then ensued the following dialogue between the traders and the Sanhedrin: The Traders: "Has not the council authorized us to display openly in the court of the temple all things useful for the sacrifice?" A Priest: "Yes, that has been sanctioned. Woe be to those who disturb you in the exercise of this right!" The Traders: "And the Galilean has driven us out with a scourge. And the tables of the money changers has he overturned, and released the doves. We demand satisfaction." Caiaphas: "That you should have satisfaction the law decrees. Your losses will be made good in the meantime out of the temple treasury" (joy among the traders). "But that the offender himself may be duly punished it is necessary for us to have your help. What can we do so long as he is not in our power?" The Traders: "He goes daily to the temple; there he can easily be arrested and carried off." Caiaphas: "That will not do. You know that as he has a multitude of excited followers such a course might lead to a dangerous uproar. The thing must be done quietly." The Traders: "That could be done best at night-time." Caiaphas: "If you could find out where he retires at night he would soon be without tumult in our hands. Then would you not only have the delight of seeing him chastised, but also a considerable reward would fall to your lot." Nathanael: "And you would also have rendered good service to the law of Moses if you assist in this." Then all the traders cried out together: "You can depend upon us, we will spare no trouble." And all the priests and Pharisees congratulated themselves that the business was going well. Dathan, conspicuous by his apparel, then volunteered a statement. He said: "I know one of his followers from whom I could easily gain some information if I could offer him a sufficient reward." Caiaphas at once authorized him, "If thou findest such a one make all necessary promises in our name. Only don't loiter; we must attain our end before the feast." Annas enjoined the strictest silence, to which with one voice the traders responded, "We swear it," and then Caiaphas proceeded to urge upon them the need of creating a party on their side among the people. "If, my good fellows, you really desire fully to glut your longing for revenge, then take care and use every means to kindle in others the same holy zeal which glows in you." They answered that they had not waited for his prompting, but had already brought several others over to their side. "We will not rest until the whole populace is roused against him." Annas and Caiaphas applauded their zeal. "You will thereby merit the greatest gratitude from the council," said Annas, and Caiaphas chimed in, "Openly will ye then be honored before all the people as you have been today put to shame before them by this presumptuous man." "Our life for the law of Moses and the holy Sanhedrin," then cried the traders. "The God of Abraham guide you," said Caiaphas dismissing them, and they left the hall crying aloud, "Long live Moses! long live the high priests and the Sanhedrin! Even today may the role of the Galilean be played out!" Then Caiaphas addressed these parting words to the council: "As though refreshed by sweet slumbers, I live once more. With such men as these we can put everything through. Now we shall see who will triumph,--he with his followers to whom he is always preaching love,--a love which is to include publicans and sinners and even the Gentiles also,--or we with this troop inspired by hate and revenge which we are sending against him. There can be no doubt to which side the victory will incline." "The God of our fathers give us the victory!" said Annas; "joy in my old age will renew my youth!" Then said Caiaphas, "Let us now break up, looking forward with confidence to the joy of victory. Praised be our fathers!" And all the assembly with a deep, sonorous voice exclaimed, "Praised be the God of Abraham, of Isaac, and of Jacob!" CHAPTER II. JESUS' LAST JOURNEY TO JERUSALEM. People of God behold; thy Savior is nigh to thee! He is come who was promised thee long ago. Oh! hear him, follow his guidance Blessing and life will he bring to thee. But blind and deaf Jerusalem has shown herself; She has thrust back the hands held out to her in love; Therefore also the Highest has turned away his face, And lets her sink to destruction. Jesus, accompanied by all his disciples, set out to pay his last visit to Bethany. Peter, with his staff in hand, walked with John beside the master. Judas was present, with disheveled locks and haggard look, James the Greater and James the Less, and Andrew and Thomas, and the rest of the disciples. Then Jesus spoke unto them and said: "You know, dear disciples, that after two days is the feast of the Passover. So now let us make one last visit to our friends in Bethany, and then go to Jerusalem, where in these days all will be fulfilled which has been written by the prophets concerning the Son of Man." The disciples understood not his saying, and after some questioning among themselves Philip ventured to address Jesus, saying unto him, "Has the day then really come at last when thou wilt restore the kingdom to Israel?" Jesus looked upon Philip with tender compassion, and said unto him, "Then shall the Son of Man be delivered up to the Gentiles, and shall be mocked and spat upon and they will crucify him; but on the third day he will rise again." Then said John in a voice that trembled with emotion, as the other disciples gazed at each other in horror, "Dear master, what dark and terrible words thou speakest. What are we to understand by them? Make it clear unto us." Then Jesus answered and said unto him, "The hour is now come when the Son of Man shall be glorified. Verily, verily, I say unto you, if a corn of wheat does not fall into the ground and die, it abideth alone, but if it die it bringeth forth much fruit. Now is the judgment of the world. Now shall the prince of this world be cast out. And I, if I be lifted up from the earth, will draw all men unto me." Then were the breasts of the disciples troubled, for they could not understand what these things meant. Thaddeus said to Simon, "What does he mean by this speech?" Simon replied with a puzzled air, "Why does he compare himself to a grain of corn?" Then said Andrew unto him, "Lord, thou speakest at once of shame and of victory. I know not how to reconcile those ideas in my mind." Jesus said, "That which is now dark to you as the night will be as clear as the day. I have told you before that you may not lose courage whatever may happen. Believe and hope. When the tribulation is passed, then you will see and understand." Thomas answered and said unto him, "What I cannot understand is that thou shouldst speak of suffering and of death. Have we not heard from the prophets that the Messiah shall live forever? What can thine enemies do unto thee? One single word from thee would annihilate them all." Jesus said unto him, "Thomas, reverence the secret counsels of God which thou canst not fathom." Then, turning to the others, he said, "Yet a little while is the light with you. Walk while you have the light, lest darkness overtake you." By this time they had approached near the village of Bethany, and there met them one Simon, after whom there came Lazarus, who was raised from the dead, with Martha, his sister, and Mary Magdalene, the latter tall, dark, with long black hair, in dark blue dress with a yellow mantle. Simon pressed forward; he was an old man and he hastened to meet Jesus. "Welcome, best of teachers, O what joy that thou shouldst honor my house with thy entrance. Dear friends, be also welcome," he exclaimed; but he was startled to hear the reply, "Simon, for the last time I, with my disciples, lay claim to thy hospitality." Simon replied in grief, "Say not so, Lord. Often still shall Bethany afford thee brief repose." By this time Lazarus drew near; he was of less than middle stature and silent, as if his sojourn in the other world left him little to speak of in this. "See," said Jesus, "there is our friend Lazarus." "My Lord," cried Lazarus, embracing him, "the vanquisher of death, lifegiver and Lord, I see thee once again and hear the voice that called me from the grave." Then hastened the Magdalene to his side, and kneeling down, "Rabbi," she exclaimed; Martha also said, "Welcome, Rabbi." Then Jesus blessed them, saying, "God's blessing be upon you!" Then Martha asked, "Wilt thou Lord, grant me the happiness of serving thee?" while the Magdalene timidly inquired, "Wilt thou despise a token of love and gratitude from me?" And Jesus replied with tenderness, "Do, good souls, that which you purpose to do." Then said Simon, "Best of masters, come under my roof and refresh thyself and thy disciples." So Jesus entered into Simon's house, exclaiming, "Peace be upon this house," to which the disciples added, speaking together, "And to all that dwell therein." Then said Simon, "Lord, all is ready, set thee down at table and bid thy disciples sit down also." Then Jesus sat down to meat, saying, "Let us now, beloved disciples, enjoy with thanks the gifts which our Father in heaven bestows upon us through Simon, his servant. O Jerusalem, would that my coming were as dear to thee as it is to these, my friends! But thou are stricken with blindness." "Yes, Lord," remarked Lazarus; "O best of masters, dangers threaten thee. The Pharisees are anxiously wondering whether thou wilt come up to the Passover. They are eagerly watching for thy destruction." Simon said, "Stay here, Lord; here thou art safe." Then Peter interposed with an entreaty, "Lord, it is good to be here. Remain here, in the seclusion of this house, served by faithful love, till the gathering storm be passed." But Jesus rebuked him sternly, saying: "Get thee behind me, tempter. Thou savorest not of the things that are of God, but those that be of men. Can the reaper tarry in the shade while the ripe harvest awaits him? The Son of Man came not to be ministered unto, but to minister and to give his life a ransom for many." Then the dark-browed Judas spoke, uttering this time the thought of all. "But, master, what will become of us if thou givest up thy life?" A chorus of approval burst from all the disciples, "Ah, all our hopes would then be destroyed." "Trouble not yourselves," said Jesus, "I have power to lay down my life and I have power to take it up again. This commandment have I received of my Father." And lo, while they were yet speaking, Mary Magdalene silently approached Jesus, carrying in her hand a bottle of ointment of spikenard, very precious, which she poured over his head as she murmured but one word, "Rabbi." And Jesus also said but one word, "Mary," but his tone was full of tenderness and love. As the perfume of the ointment filled the room the disciples spoke among themselves. "What an exquisite odor!" said Thomas, leaning past the others to look. "It is real oil of spikenard, very costly," said Bartholomew. Thaddeus added, "Such an honor has never been shown to our master." But Judas could not contain himself. He growled from his distant seat, "To what purpose is this waste? The money might have been much better expended." "Yes," said Thomas, "I almost think so, too." Then Magdalene, heedless of the murmurs of the disciples, knelt down and anointed Jesus' feet and wiped them with her long black tresses. Jesus, after a little while, noticing the muttering down the table, asked, "What are you saying to each other? Why do you condemn that which is done only from grateful love." [Illustration: "Knelt down and anointed Jesus' feet."] The Magdalene knelt back, sheltering herself as it were behind her Lord. Judas blurted out impetuously his dissatisfaction. "To pour out so much costly ointment, what wasteful extravagance!" "Friend Judas," said Jesus, "look at me. Is what is done for me, thy master, waste?" Judas said, "I know that thou lovest not useless expense; the ointment might have been sold and the poor helped with the money!" Hearing Judas' answer he half turned away and looked wearily upward, folding his hands. "Judas," said Jesus somewhat sternly, "hand upon thy heart now. Is it only pity for the poor which moves thee so much?" Judas replied, "At least three hundred pence could have been got for it. What a loss both for the poor and for us." Then Jesus answered and said, "The poor you have always with you, but me ye have not always." Then he said, "Let her alone, she has wrought a good work on me, for in that she has poured out the ointment upon me, she has anointed me for my burial. Verily I say unto you, wheresoever the gospel will be preached through the whole world, there shall also this which she hath done be told for a memorial of her." He then said to the disciples, "Let us arise"--and then turning to Simon, his host, he said, "I thank thee, benevolent man, for thy hospitality, the Father will repay it unto thee." "Say nothing of thanks, master," said Simon; "I know what I owe to thee." Then Jesus arose and said, "It is time to go hence. Farewell all ye dwellers in this hospitable house. My disciples, follow me." Peter said unto him, "Lord, wherever thou wilt, only not to Jerusalem." Jesus answered, "I go where my Father calls me. If it please thee to remain here, Peter, do so." Then Peter declared, "Lord, where thou abidest there will I also abide; whither thou goest there go I also." Jesus said, "Come then." The disciples arose and clasping their staffs were ready to depart. Then Jesus turned to Mary Magdalene and Martha and said, "Remain here, beloved! Once more, fare ye well. Dear, peaceful Bethany, never more shall I tarry in thy quiet vale." Simon, sore troubled in speech as he heard these words, said unto him, "Then wilt thou really depart hence forever?" Mary Magdalene threw herself at his feet and said, "Alas, I am filled with terrible forebodings. Friend of my soul! My heart--oh! my heart--it will not let thee go!" Jesus said unto her, "Stand up, Mary. The night cometh and the winter storms come blustering on. But be comforted. In the early morning in the garden of spring, thou wilt see me again." Lazarus exclaimed, "Oh! my friend, my benefactor!" "Alas!" cried Martha, "thou art going; and comest thou back nevermore?" Jesus said, "The Father wills it, beloved. Wherever I am I bear you ever with me in my heart, and wherever you are, my blessings will follow you. Farewell." And behold as they turned to go, there met them Mary, the mother of Jesus, with her companions. Mary had a white mantle round her head, from beneath which her long dark hair hung down. She hastened to her son, crying, "Jesus, dearest son, I hastened after thee with my friends, in eager longing to see thee once more before thou goest, all whither?" Jesus clasped her hands gently and replied, "Mother, I am on the way to Jerusalem." "To Jerusalem," said his mother. "There is the temple of Jehovah, whither I once carried thee in my arms to offer thee to the Lord." "Mother," said Jesus in solemn sadness, "the hour is come when according to the will of the Father I shall offer myself. I am ready to complete the sacrifice which the Father demands from me." "Ah," cried Mary with bitter and piteous cry, "I foresee what kind of a sacrifice that will be." John and Mary Magdalene had joined the mother of Jesus, and the two Marys standing together united their lament. "How much we had wished," said the Magdalene, "to keep back the master and make him remain with us." "It is of no use," said Simon gloomily, "his purpose is fixed." Then said Jesus to his mother, tenderly beholding her, "My hour is come." All the disciples cried, "Oh, ask the Father that he should let it pass by." Then all the women said, "The Father has always listened to thee." But Jesus said: "How is my soul troubled, and what shall I say? Father, deliver me from this hour! But for this hour came I into the world." But Mary hearing him, exclaimed as in a trance, "Oh, venerable Simon, now will be fulfilled that which thou once prophesied to me, 'A sword shall pierce through thine own soul!'" And as she spoke Mary Magdalene gently supported her from falling. Jesus said in terms of gentle reproach, "Mother, the will of the Father was also ever sacred to thee." His word rallied her courage and she replied, "It is so to me still. I am the handmaid of the Lord. What he requires of me I will bear patiently. But one thing I beg of thee, my son." "What desirest thou, my mother?" "That I may go with thee into the fierce conflict of suffering, yea, even unto death!" "Oh, what love!" exclaimed John, who stood tearfully beside the two Marys, wistfully looking for some ray of hope to illumine the darkness beyond. Jesus embraced her lovingly. "Dear mother, thou wilt suffer with me, thou wilt fight with me in my death struggle, but thou wilt also rejoice with me in my victory, therefore be comforted." "Oh, God!" she cried in heartrending accents, "give me strength that my heart may not break." "We all weep with thee, thou best of mothers," said the holy women, adding their tears to those of the mother of Jesus. "I will go with thee, my son, to Jerusalem," said Mary. And the holy women declared they also would go with her. But Jesus, holding her hand, tenderly forbade her: "Later you may go thither, but not now. For the present stay with our friends at Bethany. I commend to you, O faithful souls, my beloved mother, with those who have followed her here." Eagerly the Magdalene accepted the charge. "After thee," she exclaimed, "there is no one dearer to us than thy mother." But even at the eleventh hour Lazarus interposed one last word of entreaty: "If only thou, O master, couldst remain!" Not noticing this, Jesus said, "Comfort ye one another. After two days you may come up together to Jerusalem, to be there on the great day of the feast." Mary said: "As thou wilt, my son." But the holy women said: "How sadly will the hours pass when thou art far from us." Then Jesus spoke to his mother and said, "Mother, mother, for the tender love and motherly care which thou hast shown to me for the three and thirty years of my life, receive the warmest thanks of thy son." And stooping down he kissed her. Then raising his head, he said, "The Father calls me. Fare thee well, best of mothers." Mary asked him: "My son, where shall I see thee again?" And Jesus replied: "There, beloved mother, where the Scripture shall be fulfilled: 'He was led as a lamb to the slaughter, and he opened not his mouth.'" Mary sobbing, cried aloud, "Jesus, thy mother, oh! Oh, God, my son!" Half fainting she was held up by the holy women, who exclaimed, "O beloved, faithful mother!" The disciples departed, muttering, "We cannot endure it. What will be the end of all this?" Then burst from their lips the despairing cry, "Alas, what affliction lies before us all?" But Jesus said, "Sink not in the first conflict. Hold fast by me." And the disciples repeated, "Yea, master, fast by thee." Lazarus and the women looking back after Christ as he passed out of sight, exclaimed, "Ah! our dear teacher," while Simon said, "He brought happiness to my house." Simon then turned tenderly to Mary and said: "Come, mother, and condescend to enter in." "One consolation remains to us in tribulation," said Mary Magdalene, and Martha added, "To have the mother of our Lord with us." Turning to the other women, Lazarus said, "And you, beloved ones, come with us, we will share our woe and tears together." All then together went into the house, Mary Magdalene supporting the mother of Jesus. * * * * * * Now as they came unto Jerusalem they looked down upon the whole city which lay before them. Then said John unto Jesus, "Master, behold what a splendid view of Jerusalem from this spot!" Matthew said, "The majestic temple, how splendidly it is built." Jesus was troubled in spirit, and after gazing for a moment over the city, clasped his hands in grief and cried, "O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, O that thou hadst known even in this thy day the things that belong unto thy peace! but now they are hidden from thine eyes!" Jesus wept. His disciples beholding him weep were amazed. At last Peter ventured to say, "Master, why grievest thou so sorely?" Jesus answered, "My Peter, the fate of this unhappy city goes to my heart." Then said John, "Lord, tell us what shall this fate be?" Jesus answered and said unto them, "The days will come when her enemies will make a trench about her walls and close her in on every side, and lay her even with the ground. She and her children within her walls will be dashed to the earth, and not one stone will be left upon another." Andrew, giving expression to the general consternation, asked, "Wherefore shall the city have so sad a doom?" Jesus said, "Because she hath not known the day of her visitation. Alas! she who hath slain the prophets will kill the Messiah himself." Then spoke all the disciples together, "What a terrible deed!" James, the elder, said, "God forbid that the city of Jehovah should bring such a curse upon herself." And John with pleading voice added, "Dearest master, for the sake of the holy city and the temple, I beg of thee go not thither, so that the opportunity may be wanting to those evil men to do the worst." "Or," said Peter, "go thither and display thyself in all thy majesty, so that the good may rejoice and the evil tremble." "Yes," cried all the twelve eagerly, "do that." Philip said, "Strike down thine enemies!" and all added earnestly, "And set up the kingdom of God among men!" Jesus answered, "Children, that which you desire shall come to pass in due time, but my ways are appointed to me by my father, and thus saith the Lord, 'My thoughts are not as your thoughts, and my ways are not as your ways.'" Then, as if to cut short a useless discussion, he said, "Peter!" Peter replied, "What wilt thou, Lord?" and the Lord continued, "It is now the first day of unleavened bread, in which the law commands that we should eat the Passover; you, both Peter and John, go forward and prepare the Passover that we may eat it in the evening." Peter and John, who stood the one on the left and the other on the right, asked, "Where wilt thou, Lord, that we prepare the Passover?" Jesus said, "When you come into the city there shall meet you a man bearing a pitcher of water, follow ye him and wheresoever he shall go in, say ye to the good man of the house, 'The master says, Where is the guest-chamber that I may eat the Passover with my disciples?' and he will show you a large upper chamber furnished and prepared; there make ready the Passover." "Thy blessing, O best of masters!" said Peter. He and John knelt on either side of their Lord, Jesus placed his right hand on the head of John and his left hand on the head of Peter, exclaiming, "God's blessing be with you!" Peter and John having departed, Jesus said to the others, "Accompany me for the last time to the house of my Father." Then Judas, who had for some time past stood apart, came forward and said, "But, master, allow me; if thou wilt really leave us, make some arrangement for our future support. Look here," he added, pointing to the small bag almost empty of coin, which he carried in his girdle, "there is not enough here for one day more." Jesus looked upon him and said, "Judas, do not be more anxious than is needful." But Judas went on muttering and looking not at his Lord, but at the bag, "How well the value of that uselessly wasted ointment would have lain therein! how long we could have lived on it without care!" Jesus reproved him, saying, "You have never lacked anything hitherto and, believe me, that what is necessary will not fail you in time to come." Judas said, "But, master, when thou art no longer with us our good friends will soon draw back, and then we shall be left in sore distress." Jesus said unto him, "Friend Judas, beware lest thou fall into temptation." The other disciples who had listened to this conversation then interrupted, saying altogether, "Judas, trouble not the master so much." Judas retorted, "Who will take thought if I do not? Have I not been appointed by the master to carry the bag?" "Thou hast," said Jesus, "but I fear----" "And I also fear," interrupted Judas, "that soon it will be empty and remain so." Then Jesus went close up to him and said gravely and gently, "Judas, forget not thy warning. Arise, now let us go hence, I desire to be in the house of my Father." Jesus then, followed by his disciples, excepting Judas, passed on to the city. Judas, being left alone, said to himself, "Shall I follow him any longer. I do not much care to do so. The master's conduct to me is very inexplicable. His great deeds allowed us to hope that he would restore again the kingdom to Israel. But he does not seize the opportunities that offer themselves, and now he constantly talks of parting and dying, and puts us off with mysterious words about a future which lies too far off in the dim distance for me. I am tired of hoping and waiting. I can see very well, that with him there is no prospect of anything but continued poverty and humiliation,--and instead of the sharing, as we expected, in his glorious kingdom, we shall perhaps be persecuted and thrown into prison with him. I will draw back. It was a good thing that I was always prudent and cautious, and have now and then laid aside a trifle out of the bag in case of need. How useful I should find those 300 pence now which the foolish woman threw away on a useless mark of respect. If, as seems likely, the society is about to dissolve, they would have remained in my hands--then I should have been safe for a long while to come. As it is, I must consider the question, where and how I can find subsistence." As he stood alone under the trees, perplexed and troubled, Dathan appeared in the distance, and, spying Judas, said to himself, "The occasion is favorable. He is alone and seems much perplexed. I must try everything in order to secure him." Then stepping forward he laid his hand upon the shoulder of Judas, exclaiming, "Friend Judas!" Judas started as if a serpent had stung him and striking his head with his hand cried, "Who calls?" "A friend," said Dathan; "has anything sad happened to thee? Thou art so absorbed in thought?" Judas, staring wildly, asked, "Who art thou?" "Thy friend, thy brother," cried Dathan. Judas, staring backward, exclaimed: "Thou art my friend, my brother?" "At least," said Dathan, "I wish to be so. How is it with the master? I also would like to become one of his disciples." Judas said, "One of his disciples?" "Why?" said Dathan, "hast thou then forsaken him? Are things not well with him? Tell me that I may know how to act." Then Judas said unto him, "Canst thou keep silence?" "Be assured of that," said Dathan. "Then," answered Judas, "it is no longer going well with him. He says himself his last hour has come." And then Judas rapidly ran over the various predictions of disaster which he had heard from the lips of Jesus. "I intend to forsake him, for he will yet bring us all to ruin. See here," said he, producing the almost empty purse, "I am treasurer, see how it stands with us." "Friend," said Dathan, shrugging his shoulders, "I shall remain as I am." At this moment six of Dathan's companions came up. Judas, alarmed, asked, "Who are these? I will not say another word." "Stay, friend," said one of the newcomers, "you will not regret it." "Why have you come here?" asked Judas. "We were going back to Jerusalem and we will bear thee company if it please thee." Judas, suspiciously eyeing them, asked, "Do you also perhaps wish to go after the master?" Then said the traders, "Has he gone to Jerusalem?" "For the last time," said Judas, "so he says." "What!" said they, "for the last time? Is he then never going to leave the land of Judea again?" "Why do you ask me this so eagerly?" said Judas, "do you wish to become his followers?" "Why not?" said the traders with a laugh, "if the prospects are good;" and Dathan added, "Explain to us, Judas, the meaning of thy words that he would bring you all to ruin." And Judas replied: "He tells us always to take no thought for the morrow, but if today anything happened we should all be as poor as beggars. Does a master care thus for his own?" "Truly," said the traders, "the lookout is bad." Then Judas related once more the story of Mary Magdalene's waste of precious ointment. "And at the same time this very day he permitted the most senseless waste which a foolish woman was guilty of, thinking to obtain honor; and when I found fault with this I only met with reproachful words and looks." "And thou canst still care for him after that?" said the traders contemptuously, "and art still willing to remain with him? Thou shouldst take thought for thine own future; it is high time." "So I have been thinking," said Judas, "but how can I find a good opening?" Then said Dathan, "Thou hast not long to seek, for the fairest opportunity is awaiting thee." "Where? How?" said Judas eagerly. "Hast thou not heard," said the traders, "of the proclamation of the council? Such a good opportunity of making thy fortune thou wilt never find again thy whole life long." Judas' eyes gleamed. "What proclamation?" he asked. The traders said, "Whosoever gives information as to the nightly resort of Jesus of Nazareth shall receive a large reward." "A large reward!" said Judas. "Now who," said they, "can earn it easier than thou?" Dathan muttered to himself, "We have nearly attained our end." The traders pressed Judas anew, "Brother, don't neglect this good fortune." Judas said hesitatingly, "A fair opportunity. Shall I let it slip?" Then struck in Dathan, "The reward is not all. The council will look after thee in the future. Who knows what might not yet come of it for thee!" "Consent, friend! Strike the bargain," cried all the traders together. Judas hesitated one moment and then clasped Dathan's hand, saying, "Well, be it so." "Come, Judas," said Dathan, "we will bring thee straightway to the council." But Judas said, "No, I must first go after the master, and so obtain information in order to make things sure." Dathan said, "Well, then, we will go to the council and report you in the meantime. But when and where shall we meet?" "In three hours you will find me in the street of the temple," replied Judas. Judas then shook hands all around with the traders. "Done!" exclaimed Judas, as Dathan and the traders left him. Judas was now alone. He walked to and fro under the trees and said to himself: "My word is given; I shall not repent of it. Shall I avoid the good fortune which is coming to meet me? Yes, my fortune is made. I will do what I promised, but will make them pay me in advance. If then the priests succeed in taking him prisoner, if his reign is over--I have assured my own prospects and will besides become famous throughout all Judea, as a man who has helped to save the law of Moses, and shall reap praise and glory. But if the master should gain the victory, then--yes, then I will cast me down repentant at his feet, for he is good. I have never seen him drive the penitent from him. He will take me back again and then I shall have the credit of bringing about the decision. Anyhow, I'll take good care to leave a bridge behind so that should I be unable to go forward I can return. The plan is well thought out. Judas, thou art a prudent man. And yet I feel a little afraid to meet the master, for I shall not be able to bear his keen, searching look, and my comrades will see by my face that I am a----No, I will not be that. I am no traitor! What am I going to do but let the Jews know where the master is to be found? That is no betrayal. Betrayal is something more than that. Away with these fancies! Courage, Judas, thy future is at stake." Judas, who had started with horror when he first mentioned the word traitor, resolved to play his appointed role and departed to find Jesus. CHAPTER III. THE LAST SUPPER. O Judas, art thou blinded quite By untamed greed of gold and gear? And would thou sell thy master dear For base gain? Shudders not thy soul in dire affright? Thy lot has passed into the night, Already doth thy doom appear. "'Tis one of you that shall betray," Three times the Lord thus spoke to him-- Who's purposed his own soul to slay-- Yet is his conscience dull and dim, For Satan rules his heart within And lust for gold that's won by sin. "Oh Judas! but one moment stay. Oh! finish not this foulest deed!" But no! for deaf and blind with greed, To the council Judas hastes away, And there repeats in evil trade, The bargain once with Dathan made. And it came to pass that when Peter and John were still on their way to Jerusalem, Baruch, the servant of Mark, came out into the street with a pitcher of water, which he went to get filled at the well. As he went he said to himself, "There is a great deal of business today, there will be no lack of work this Passover; from the great crowd of pilgrims we can expect nothing else. My master must expect many guests as he is already making so much to-do in the house." When he was drawing the water John and Peter came upon him. "See," said they, "there is someone at the well." Baruch, not noticing them, went on drawing the water, saying, "There must be something exceptional at this Passover, seeing the way in which the rulers of the council hasten about hither and thither." As he lifted the pitcher and turned to go Peter said, "This is he who carries the pitcher of water that our master gave us for a sign." Then said John, "Let us follow him." Baruch looked around as he came to the door of his master's house, and, seeing the disciples, said, "Will you come in with me, friends? You are welcome." "We wish," said John, "to speak with your master." "Perhaps," said Baruch, "you desire to take the Passover with us?" "Yes," said Peter, "the master desired us to bring this request to your master." Then said Baruch, "Come with me. It will be a joy to my master to take you into his house. There, see," he said as Mark came out of his house, "there he is himself. See, master, I bring guests." "Welcome, strangers," said Mark, "how can I serve you?" Then said Peter unto him, "Our teacher sent us to say unto thee, 'My time is at hand. Where is the hall where I can eat the Passover with my disciples, for my time is at hand. I will keep the Passover in thy house with my disciples.'" "Oh, joy!" exclaimed Mark, "now I recognize you as the disciples of the miracle-worker who restored to me the light of my eyes. How have I deserved that he should choose my house before all others that are in Jerusalem in which to celebrate the Passover? Oh, fortunate man that I am, that it should be my house which he honors with his presence. Come, dear friends, I will at once show you the hall." Peter and John replied, "Good friend, we follow thee." And they went into the house and found all things as Jesus had said unto them. * * * * * * In the upper chamber which Mark had prepared for the Passover Jesus and his disciples stood around a long table. Jesus stood in the center with Peter on his right hand and John on his left. Judas, sullen and scowling, sat next to Peter, and the other disciples were arranged in their order. The table was covered with a white cloth with embroidered edges. On the cloth stood a flagon of wine and several cups, and a plate on which lay a loaf of bread. Jesus, standing in the midst, said unto them, "With longing have I desired to eat this Passover with you before I suffer, for I say unto you I will not any more eat thereof until it be fulfilled in the kingdom of God." Jesus then took the cup, and lifting it with both hands, looked up to heaven and said, "I thank thee for this fruit of the vine." Then drinking of it he passed the cup to Peter, who also drank and passed it to Judas, who in his turn, after drinking, passed it to the next disciple, and so on until it went all around. "Take this," said Jesus, as he passed the cup to Peter, "and divide it amongst yourselves, for I say unto you, I will not drink henceforth of the fruit of the vine until the kingdom of God comes." [Illustration: "Drinking of it he passed the cup to Peter."] Then exclaimed all the disciples together, "Alas, Lord, is this then the last Passover?" Jesus said unto them, "There is a cup which I will drink with you in the kingdom of God my Father. As it is written, 'Thou shalt make them drink of the river of thy pleasures.'" Then said Peter unto him, "Master, when this kingdom shall appear, how will the offices be portioned out?" "Who amongst us," said James the elder, "will have the first place?" Then Thomas said, "Will each one of us have lordship over a separate land?" "That would be the best," said Bartholomew; "then no dispute would arise amongst us." Then Jesus looked upon them and said, "So long a time have I been amongst you and you are still entangled in earthly things? Verily, I appoint unto you, which have continued with me in my temptations, the kingdom which my Father has appointed unto me, that you may eat and drink with me in my kingdom, and sit on thrones judging the twelve tribes of Israel. But, remember, the kings of the Gentiles exercise lordship over them, and they that exercise authority over them are called benefactors, but ye shall not be so. He that is greatest among you, let him be as the least, and the chief as your servant. For whether is greatest he that sitteth at meat or he that serveth? Is not he that sitteth at meat; but I am among you as one that serveth." Thereupon John removed the long purple robe from the shoulders of Jesus, and handed him a white linen towel, with which he girded himself round the middle. Then came Baruch in, carrying a ewer of water and a basin. As they looked in amazement one at another, Jesus said unto them, "Now sit down, beloved disciples." Then said the disciples one to another, "What is he going to do?" Jesus, turning to Peter, said, "Peter, reach me thy foot." Peter, starting backward in amazement, said, "Lord, dost thou wash my feet?" Then said Jesus, "What I do thou knowest not now, but thou shalt know hereafter." Peter replied stoutly, "Lord, thou shalt never to all eternity wash my feet!" But Jesus said, "If I wash thee not thou shalt have no part with me." Peter said, "Lord, if it be so, then not my feet only, but also my hands and my head." But Jesus answered, "He that is washed needeth not save to wash his feet, but is clean every whit." Then stooping down Baruch poured the water over the feet of Peter, and Jesus dried them with a towel. The other disciples took the sandals off their feet, whispering to themselves in wonder as to what this meant. Jesus washed the feet of Judas as those of the others. Last of all he washed the feet of John also. Then he washed his hands, Baruch pouring the water over them. After which he took off the towel, and John placed his mantle once more upon his shoulders. Looking round upon the twelve, he said, "Ye are now clean, but not all." Jesus then seated himself in the midst of them. Then said Jesus unto them, "Do you know what I have done unto you? Ye call me master and Lord, and ye do well, for so I am. If I then, your Lord and master, have washed your feet, ye also ought to wash one another's feet. For I have given you an example that ye should do as I have done unto you. Verily, verily, the servant is not greater than he that sent him. If ye know these things, happy are ye if ye do them." Then Jesus stood up again and said, "Children, but for a little while shall I be with you. That my memory may never perish from among you, I will leave behind an everlasting memorial, and so I shall ever dwell with you and amongst you. The old covenant which my Father made with Abraham, Isaac and Jacob has reached its end and I say unto you, a new covenant begins, which I solemnly consecrate today with my blood, as the Father has commanded me, and this covenant will last until all be fulfilled." Jesus then took the bread, lifted it up before him, and replacing it on the table, looked up to heaven and blessed it. Then, lifting it up again, he broke it in two, saying, "Take, eat, this is my body which was broken for you." Then passing around the table, he placed a morsel of bread with his own hand in the mouth of each of his disciples. All took it reverently, but Judas bit at it almost as a dog snatcheth meat from its master's hands. After Jesus had returned to his place, he said, "This do in remembrance of me." In like manner he took the cup and blest it and said, "Take this, and drink ye all of it; for this is the cup of the New Testament in my blood, which is shed for you and for many for the remission of sins." Then passing round the table again he gave each of them to drink, and returning to his place he said, "As often as ye do this, do it in remembrance of me." During the time Jesus went round the table administering the bread and wine to his disciples, there was heard in the distance a chorus of angels singing: Oh! the lowly love and tender! See the Saviour kneeling still At the feet of his disciples Loving service to fulfil. Oh! this love remember ever! Love as he has loved, and so Unto others render service As your Lord has done to you. Then John in an ecstacy of affection exclaimed, "Oh, best of masters, never will I forget thy love! Thou knowest that I love thee," and leaning forward he laid his head on the breast of Jesus. The rest of the twelve, who were sitting with clasped hands with the exception of Judas, who sat apart moody and sullen, exclaimed together, "O, Master, who art so full of love for us, ever will we remain united with thee." Then said Peter, "This holy meal of the new covenant shall ever be celebrated amongst us according to thy commandment." And Matthew added, "And as often as we shall keep it, we will remember thee!" Then cried they all, "O, best teacher, O divine one! O best friend and teacher!" And Jesus looking upon them said, "My children, abide in me, and I in you! As the Father has loved me, so have I also loved you, continue ye in my love. But, alas, must I say it! the hand of him who betrays me is with me at the table!" Judas started, but the confusion of the disciples caused his guilty look to be unnoticed. Several of the disciples exclaimed, "What! a traitor amongst us!" "Is it possible?" said Peter. Then Jesus said, "Verily, verily, I say unto you, one of you shall betray me." "Lord," said Andrew, "one of us twelve?" "Yes," replied Jesus, "one of the twelve who dipped his hand in the dish with me shall betray me. So the Scriptures shall be fulfilled. He that eateth bread with me hath lifted up his heel against me." Thomas and Simon, speaking together with the same thought and same words, asked, "Who can this faithless one be?" while Matthew said, "Lord, thou seest all hearts, thou knowest that it is not I"--and the two James cried, "Name him publicly, the traitor!" Then while these words were on their lips, Judas, fearing lest his silence should be observed, started forward and asked furtively, "Lord, is it I?" but excepting by Jesus his words passed unnoticed. Thaddeus exclaimed, "I would rather give my life for thee than that such a deed should be done;" and Bartholomew, "I would rather sink into the earth with shame." Jesus, looking toward Judas said, "Thou hast said it." Turning to the rest, Jesus continued, "The son of man goeth indeed as it is written of him, but woe unto that man by whom the son of man is betrayed; better were it for him that he had never been born!" Peter, leaning over to John, whispered to him to ask Jesus who it was. Then John whispered to Jesus, saying, "Lord, who is it?" Jesus answered, speaking so low as to be heard by John alone, "He it is to whom I shall give a sop after having dipped it." The other apostles who had not heard this kept on asking, "Who can it be?" Jesus, taking a piece of bread, dipped it into a cup, and placed it in the mouth of Judas, saying, "What thou doest, do quickly." Then Judas arose and hurried from the room. The disciples seeing his departure wondered among themselves, and Thomas said to Simon, "Why does Judas go away?" Simon replied, "Probably the master has sent him to buy something," while Thaddeus added, "Or to distribute alms to the poor." Judas being now gone, Jesus spoke to the eleven, saying, "If God be glorified in him, God shall also glorify him in himself and shall straightway glorify him. Little children, yet a little while I am with you. Ye shall seek me; but as I have said to the Jews, whither I go you cannot come, even so now I say unto you." Then said Peter unto him, "Lord, whither goest thou?" Jesus answered, "Whither I go thou canst not follow me now, but thou shalt follow me later." Peter passionately cried, "Why can I not follow thee now? I will lay down my life for thy sake." Then Jesus looked upon him with compassion and said, "Wilt thou lay down thy life for my sake? Simon! Simon! Satan hath desired to have thee that he may sift thee as wheat, but I have prayed for thee that thy faith fail not; and when thou art converted, strength thy brethren! This night all ye shall be offended because of me, for it is written, 'I shall smite the shepherd and the sheep of his flock shall be scattered abroad.'" Peter answered, "Although all shall be offended, yet will not I. Lord, I am ready to go with thee to prison and to death." Jesus said unto him, "Verily, verily, I say unto thee, Peter, today, even this night, before the cock crow twice, thou shalt deny me thrice." Then said Peter, rising and clasping his hands, "Even if I should die with thee, I would never deny thee," and the other ten disciples said altogether with a loud voice, "Master, we also will always remain faithful to thee; none of us will ever deny thee." Then said Jesus unto them, "When I sent you out without purse or scrip, or shoes, lacked ye anything?" All replied with one voice, "No, nothing." Then Jesus said, "But now I say unto you, let everyone take his purse and likewise his scrip, and whosoever hath not a sword, let him sell his coat and buy one, for now begins a time of trial; and I say unto you that thus it is written, and it must yet be accomplished in me, 'And he was reckoned among the transgressors!'" Peter then and Philip each drew a sword from the scabbard which hung at his side under his cloak, exclaiming, "Lord, see here are two swords." Then said Jesus, "It is enough. Let us stand up and give thanks." Then standing, Jesus and all the disciples said together with a loud voice, "Praise the Lord, all ye people! Praise him, all ye nations! for his merciful kindness is everlasting; the truth of the Lord endureth forever." Then Jesus, leaving the table, advanced to the foreground and stood for some time with his eyes raised to heaven, the disciples standing on either side watching him with troubled faces. Shortly after he said unto them, "Children, why are ye so sad and why look ye on me so sorrowfully? Let not your heart be troubled; ye believe in God, believe also in me. In my father's house are many mansions. I go to prepare a place for you; and I will come again and receive you unto myself, that where I am there ye may be also. I leave you not as orphans. Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you. Keep my commandment. This is my commandment, that ye love one another as I have loved you! By this shall all men know that ye are my disciples, if ye love one another. Hereafter I will not talk much to you, for the prince of this world cometh, although he hath nothing in me. But that the world may know that I love the Father, and as the Father gave me commandment, so do I. Let us go hence." * * * * * * The Sanhedrin was again in session. Caiaphas presided, Annas as before sat on his left hand and Nathanael on his right. No sooner had all the members of the assembly taken their seats than Caiaphas rose and with radiant countenance began, "Assembled fathers, I have a joyful piece of news to impart to you. The supposed prophet from Galilee will soon, we hope, be in our hands. Dathan, the zealous Israelite, has won over one of the most trusted companions of the Galilean, who will let himself be employed as a guide, so that we may surprise him by night. Both are here, only waiting a summons to appear before us." "Bring them in," cried with eager voices the priests and Pharisees. Josue volunteered, "I will call them." "Yes, call them," said Caiaphas. When Josue left the room Caiaphas asked their counsel as to the price which should be given for the betrayal of Jesus. Nathanael stood up and said, "The law of Moses gives direction for such a case; a slave is valued at thirty pieces of silver." The priests laughed thereat and said, "Yea, yea, it is just the price of a slave that the false Messiah is worth." Then came in Dathan and Judas, Josue conducting them into the presence of the Sanhedrin. Dathan stood forward and said, "Most learned council, I here fulfil the task entrusted to me, and present to the fathers a man who is determined for a suitable reward to deliver our and your enemy into our power. He is a trusted friend of the notorious Galilean and knows his ways and his secret abiding places." Then said Caiaphas to Judas, "Knowest thou the man whom the council seeks?" Judas answered, "I have now been a long time in his company and know where he is accustomed to abide." Then said Caiaphas, "What is thy name?" He replied, "My name is Judas, and I am one of the twelve." "Yes, yes," cried several of the priests, "we saw thee often with him." Caiaphas asked him, "Art thou steadfastly resolved to do our will?" Judas answered firmly, "I give you my word." "But," continued Caiaphas, "wilt thou not repent of it? What induced thee to take this step?" Judas answered, "The friendship between him and me has been cooling down for some time, and now I have quite broken with him." "What has led to this?" asked Caiaphas. Judas replied, "There is nothing more to be got from him and indeed I am resolved to remain loyal to lawful authority, that is always the best. What will you give me if I deliver him up to you?" Then Caiaphas, speaking as if they were promising great things, said, "Thirty pieces of silver, which shall be at once paid over to thee!" "Hear that, Judas?" cried Dathan, "thirty pieces of silver, what a gain!" Before Judas could reply, Nathanael sprang to his feet, saying, "And mark thee well, Judas, this is not all! If thou executest this work right well thou shalt be cared for still further." "And thou mayest become a rich and famous man," added a priest. Judas said aloud, "I am contented," and added to himself, "Now the star of hope is rising for me." Then said Caiaphas to the rabbi who sat below the judgment seat arrayed in blue velvet and gold, "Bring the thirty pieces of silver out of the treasury, and pay it over in the presence of the council." "Is this your will?" he added, putting the question to the Sanhedrin. A great shout went up of "Yes, yes, it is." But some there were present who did not join in that cry. One of these, Nicodemus, stood up and asked the Sanhedrin, "How can you conclude so godless a bargain?" Then turning to Judas, he said, "And thou, abject wretch, dost thou not blush to sell thy Lord and master, thou God-forgetting traitor whom the earth shall swallow up? For thirty pieces of silver wouldst thou now sell that most loving friend and benefactor? O, pause while there is yet time. That blood-money will cry to heaven for vengeance, will burn like hot iron thy avaricious soul!" Judas, surprised by this sudden outburst, stood trembling and amazed. Dathan, Caiaphas and the rest of the Sanhedrin displayed unmistakable indignation at this unexpected intervention on the part of Nicodemus. Josue said: "Don't trouble yourself, Judas, about the speech of this zealot; let him go and be a follower of the false prophet. Thou dost thy duty as a disciple of Moses in serving the rightful authorities." Then came in the rabbi with the silver in a dish. "Come, Judas," said he, "take the thirty pieces of silver and play the man," counting the coins out on a stone table so that they chinked merrily as they fell. Judas snatched them up eagerly, testing them now and then to see if they were genuine, and then transferred them piece by piece with feverish haste to his bag, which he tied up when filled and replaced in his girdle. Then, resuming his place on the left of the judgment seat, he exclaimed: "You can rely upon my word." "But," said the priests, "the work must be accomplished before the feast." Judas answered and said: "Even now the fairest opportunity offers itself. This very night he shall be in your hands. Give me an armed band so that he can be duly surrounded and every road of escape cut off." Then said Annas, who up to now had not broken silence: "Let us send with him the Temple Watch." "Yes, yes," cried all the priests, "let us order them to go." Caiaphas said: "It would also be advisable to send some members of the Holy Sanhedrin with them." Half the assembly sprang to their feet crying: "We are ready." Caiaphas said: "If the choice is left to me I appoint Nathan, Josaphat, Solomon and Ptolomaus." Each of the four, as he was named, rose and bowed low. Then, Caiaphas, turning to Judas, said: "But, Judas, how will the band be able to distinguish the Master in the darkness?" Judas answered: "They must come with torches and lanterns and I will give them a sign." "Excellent, Judas," cried the priests in approving chorus. "Now," said Judas, "I will hasten away to spy out everything. Then I will come back to fetch the armed men." "I will go with you, Judas," said Dathan, "and will not leave your side until this work is finished." "At the gate of Bethpage I will meet your people," said Judas, as he departed, taking with him Dathan and the four priests to accompany him. When they had left the Sanhedrin Caiaphas addressed the assembly: "All goes admirably, venerable fathers, but now we are called to look the great question frankly in the face. What shall we do with this man when God has delivered him into our hands?" Then: said Zadok: "Let us throw him into the deepest and darkest of dungeons and keep him well watched and laden down with chains. Let him be buried while still alive." This, however, did not please Caiaphas, so using the full might of his eloquence and authority he continued: "Which of you would guarantee that his friends would not raise a tumult and free him, or that the guard might not be corrupted, or could he not break his fetters with his abhorred magic arts?" The priests were silent. Caiaphas replied in tones of the deepest conviction: "I see that ye neither know nor understand. Then listen to the high priest. It is better that one man should die and the whole nation perish not. He must die!" And as the fatal words fell from the lips of Caiaphas the whole Sanhedrin was moved. Caiaphas continued: "Until he is dead there is no peace in Israel, no security for the law of Moses, and no quiet hours for us." Hardly had Caiaphas ended than the rabbi sprang to his feet exclaiming in excited tones: "God has spoken through our high priest! Only by the death of Jesus of Nazareth can and must the people of Israel be delivered!" Nathanael exclaimed: "Long has the word lain upon my tongue! Now is it uttered. Let him die, the foe of our fathers!" Then sprang all the priests from their seats and with uplifted hands and eager voices exclaimed: "Yes, he must die; in his death is our salvation!" When they sat down, Annas, the aged high priest arose, and speaking with intense bitterness, declared: "By my gray hairs let it be sworn, I will never rest until our shame is washed out in the blood of this deceiver." Then stood up Nicodemus and said: "O, fathers, is it allowed to say one word?" And all cried: "Yes, yes, speak, speak!" Then said Nicodemus: "Is the sentence already pronounced upon this man before there has been an examination or hearing of the witnesses? Is this a proceeding worthy of the fathers of the people of God?" Nathanael said: "What! Wilt thou accuse the council of injustice?" Zadok exclaimed: "Dost thou know the holy law? Compare----" Nicodemus replied: "I know the law; therefore also I know that the judge may not pass sentence before witnesses are heard." "What need we any further witnesses?" cried Josue. "We ourselves have often enough been witnesses to his speech and his actions, by which he blasphemously outraged the law." Nicodemus answered, unmoved by the clamor of the assembly: "Then you yourselves are at once the accusers, the witnesses and the judges. I have listened to his sublime teachings; I have seen his mighty deeds. They call for belief and admiration; not for contempt and punishment." "What," exclaimed Caiaphas indignantly, "this scoundrel deserves admiration! Thou wilt cleave to Moses and yet defendest thou that which the law condemns? Ha! Fathers of Israel, the impious words call for vengeance." The priests shouted: "Out with thee from our assembly, if thou persist in this way of speaking!" when another voice is heard. Joseph of Arimathea stood forth on the opposite side of the hall and said: "I must also agree with Nicodemus. No one has imputed any deed to Jesus which makes him worthy of death; he has done nothing but good." Then said Caiaphas: "Dost thou also speak in this wise? Is it not known everywhere how he desecrated the Sabbath; how he has misled the people by his seditious speeches? Hath he not also as a deceiver worked his pretended miracles by the aid of Beelzebub? Has he not given himself out as a God, when he is nothing but a man?" "You hear that?" cried the priests to Joseph. He remained standing and continued saying: "Envy and malice have misrepresented his words and imputed evil motives to the noblest acts. That he is a man come from God his God-like acts testify." "Ha," cried Nathanael, with a laugh of scorn, "now we know thee. Already for a long time hast thou been a secret follower of this Galilean! Now, thou hast shown thyself in thy true colors!" Aged Annas, without leaving his seat, remarked: "So, then, we have in our very midst traitors to our holy law, and even here has the deceiver cast his net." "What do ye here, apostates?" cried Caiaphas. "Be off to your prophet, to see him once more, before the hour strikes when he must die, for that is irrevocably determined." "Yes," cried all the priests. "Yes! die he must; that is our resolve." Then said Nicodemus, "I curse this resolution; I will neither have part nor lot in this shameful condemnation." "And I also," said Joseph of Arimathea, "will quit this place where the innocent are condemned to death. By God, I swear that my hands are clean!" Gathering their robes together, Nicodemus and Joseph of Arimathea walked slowly out of the Sanhedrin. Then said Josue, "At last we are rid of these traitors. Now we can speak out freely." Caiaphas, however, profiting by the protests of Nicodemus and Joseph of Arimathea, said to the assembly: "It will certainly be necessary that we should sit formally in judgment upon this man, to try him and to bring forth witnesses against him, otherwise the people will believe that we have only persecuted him from envy and hatred." Then said one Jacob, "Two witnesses at least the law requires," and Samuel answered: "These shall not be lacking; I will provide them myself." Then said Dariabbas, "Our decision stands firm, but in order not to offend the weak it would be well to observe the usual forms of justice." "And," added Ezekiel complacently, "should these forms not suffice the strength of our will we must supply what is lacking." And a rabbi said, "A little more or less guilty matters little, since once for all the public weal demands that he should be removed." Then Caiaphas said, "In securing the execution of our sentences it would be safest if we could so contrive that the sentence of death should be pronounced by the governor; then we should be clear of all responsibility." "We can try," said Nathanael. "If it miscarries, it is still always open to us to have our sentence carried out by our trusty friends in the commotion of a great tumult, without ourselves being openly responsible for anything." "And then," said the rabbi, "if the worst come we should have him in our hands, and in the silence of a dungeon it will not be difficult to find a more sure hand to deliver the Sanhedrin from its enemy." Then Caiaphas arose and said, "Circumstances will teach us what should be done. Now let us break up. But hold yourselves ready at any hour of the night to be called together. There is no time to be lost. Our resolution is, he must die." And all the members of the high council cried tumultuously: "Let him die! Let him die! The enemy of our holy land!" CHAPTER IV. BETRAYED BY A KISS. The foulest deed will soon be done That earth or hell displays-- Alas! ere this night's course be run Judas his Lord betrays! Come now, ye faithful souls draw nigh See Jesus suffer, bleed and die, Now has begun the anguished fight Beyond in dark Gethsemane. O, sinners never let this night For evermore forgotten be! For your salvation this has been Which on the mountain we have seen, When, sorrowing unto death, he sank To earth, it was for you-- 'Twas for your sake the damp turf drank Those drops of crimson dew. In the twilight of the same day there were gathered together in the neighborhood of the Mount of Olives those appointed by the Sanhedrin to seize Jesus. Judas was there with Dathan and the other traders, as well as the four priests sent by Caiaphas to see that all things went well. With them came the Temple Watch under the command of one Selpha, in steel helmet and steel-embossed leather cuirass. The watch consisted of twenty men in armor, two of whom carried long clubs set with spikes, two bore braziers of burning coals, while the rest carried spears. Conspicuous among the watch were Malchus, the high priest's servant, and Balbus. They approached stealthily, and Judas addressed them, saying, "Now be careful! We are now approaching the place whither the Master has withdrawn himself." Then said Solomon, one of the priests, "I suppose the disciples will not perceive us too soon." "No," said Judas, "they rest unconcerned and dream nothing of any attack. As to any resistance, there is nothing of that to fear." Then cried the Temple Watch aloud, "Should they try it they shall feel the weight of our arms." "You will seize him," said Judas, "without a single sword stroke." "But," said Josue, "how shall we know him in the darkness so as not to arrest another in place of the one we desire?" "I shall give you a sign," said Judas, "when we are in the garden; then look out. I will hasten up to him, and the man whom I shall kiss; that is he; bind him!" Then said Korah, "Good, this sign will prevent us from making any mistake." Ptolomaus, the priest, then turned to the watch and said, "Do you hear? You will know the master by a kiss!" "Yes, yes," cried the soldiers, "we shall not miss him." "Now," said Judas, "let us make haste; it is time. We are not far from the garden." Then said Josue to Judas, "Judas, if tonight brings us good fortune, thou wilt profit by the fruit of thy work." The traders added, "We, too, will recompense thee richly." Then cried all the soldiers together, "Now look out, thou stirrer-up of the people, thou wilt soon have thy reward." Thereupon the whole company moved off into the darkness and remained hidden in an ambush until the signal should be given. After a time Jesus and his disciples entered the garden of Gethsemane. Jesus spoke unto them, saying, "Verily, verily, I say unto you, ye shall weep and lament, but the world shall rejoice; ye shall be sorrowful, but your sorrow shall be turned into joy, for I will see you again and your heart shall rejoice, and your joy no one taketh from you. I came forth from the Father and am come into the world. I leave the world again and go unto the Father." "Lo," said Peter, "now thou speakest plainly and no more in parables." Then said James the Greater, "Now we see that thou knowest all things, and hast no need that one should ask thee anything." And Thomas added, "Therefore we believe that thou comest forth from God." Jesus answered them saying, "Do ye now believe? Behold the hour cometh, yea, is already come, when ye shall be scattered every man to his own and leave me alone. Yet I am not alone, for the Father is with me. Yes, Father, the hour is come; glorify thy Son that thy Son also may glorify thee. I have finished the work which thou hast given me to do. I have manifested thy name to those thou gavest me out of the world. Holy Father, keep them in thy name; sanctify them in the truth. Neither pray I for these alone, but for them also who shall believe on me through their word; that they may all be one, as thou, Father, art in me, and I in thee. Father, I will pray that they also whom thou hast given me be with me where I am, that they may behold my glory which thou hast given me, for thou lovedst me before the foundation of the world." Then turning to the disciples who were following him into the garden he said in a voice which was broken with sorrow: "Children, sit down here while I go and pray yonder. Pray that ye enter not into temptation; but you, Peter, James and John follow me." Eight of the disciples then sat down on the ground under the trees, while Jesus went forward with the three. Bartholomew said, "Never have I seen him so sad;" and James the Less replied, "My heart is also laden down with sadness;" while Matthew cried, "Ah, that this night were passed with its weary hours." And another apostle exclaimed, "Not in vain has our master prepared us for this." Philip said, "Dear brothers, we will sit down here and rest until he comes back." "Yes," said Thomas, "that we will, for I am utterly worn out and weary." Then Jesus, who had come forward with Peter, James and John, said unto them, "Ah, beloved children, my soul is exceeding sorrowful, even unto death. Tarry ye here and watch with me." Then after a pause he added, "I will go a little further apart in order to strengthen myself by communion with the Father." As Jesus with slow and staggering steps went toward the grotto, Peter cried, looking after him, "Ah, dear good master," and John exclaimed, "My soul is suffering with our teacher." As they sat down Peter said, "I am very anxious." James said, "Why does our dear master thus separate us from one another?" John replied, "Alas, we are to be witnesses," and Peter continued, "Ye know, brethren, we were the witnesses of his transfiguration on the mountain, but now, what is it that we have to see?" Slowly Peter, James and John, who were sitting apart, fell asleep. Jesus having reached the grotto, said, "This hour must come upon me--the hour of darkness. For this it was that I came into the world." Then falling upon his knees he clasped his hands, and looking up to heaven cried, with a great and pitiful voice, "Father, my Father! If it be possible, and with thee all things are possible, let this cup pass from me!" Then Jesus fell upon his face on the ground and remained silent for a while. Then again he rose upon his knees and cried, "Yes, Father, not as I will, but as thou wilt!" Then standing up, he looked toward heaven and slowly returned to the three disciples. And lo, when he approached he found them asleep. "Simon," he said. Simon Peter, as in a dream, rubbed his head and said, "Alas, my master." Jesus said, "Simon, dost thou sleep?" Peter, rousing himself, said, "Master, here I am." Jesus said, "Could you not watch with me one hour?" Peter cried, "O, Master, forgive." The apostles said, "Rabbi, sleep has overpowered us." Then said Jesus, "Watch and pray that ye enter not into temptation." The apostles answered, "Yes, Lord, we will watch and pray." Then said Jesus unto them; "The spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak." So saying he turned from them, and again slowly walked toward the grotto. Praying he said, "My Father, thy demand is just, thy decrees are holy, thou claimest this sacrifice." Then falling upon his knees, he prayed, saying, "Father, the strife is hot." Falling upon his face he remained silent for a time, then raising himself again he cried, "Yes, Father, if this cup may not pass from me unless I drink it, Father thy will be done." Then standing up he said, "Holy One, it will be completed by me in righteousness." Then once more he came back to his sleeping disciples; this time he did not rouse them. "Are also your eyes so heavy that you could not watch?" he said. "Ah, my most trusted ones, even among you I find no consolation." Then returning over the rocky road which led to the grotto he paused for a moment in sorrow, while a great sorrow overwhelmed him. "Oh, how dark it grows around me; the anguish of death encompasses me! The burden of God's judgment lies upon me! Oh, the sins! Oh, the sins of mankind! They weigh me down. Oh, the fearful burden; oh, the bitterness of this cup!" Then coming to the grotto again, he cried, "My Father!" and falling down he prayed, "If it is not possible that this hour pass away from me, thy will be done! Thy holiest will! Father! Thy son! Hear him!" Then from out of the darkness a bright and shining angel in white apparel and with radiant wings descended upon him. And out of the silence were heard these words, "O, Son of Man, sanctify the Father's will! Look upon the blessedness which will proceed from thy struggles. The Father has laid it upon thee to become the sacrifice for sinful man. Carry it through to the end. The Father will glorify thee!" Then said Jesus, "Yes, most Holy Father, I adore thy Providence; I will complete the work--to reconcile--to save, to bless!" Then standing up he cried in a more joyous tone, "Strengthened by thy word, O Father! I go joyfully to meet that to which thou hast called me, as the substitute for sinful man." With lighter step he returned to the place where the three disciples lay slumbering peacefully. He looked upon them and said, "Sleep now and take your rest." Peter, hearing his voice, said, "What is it, master?" Then all three answered, "Behold, we are ready." Then said Jesus, "The hour is come; the son of man is betrayed into the hands of sinners. Rise, let us be going." Even as he spoke these words the tramp of armed men was heard in the immediate neighborhood of the garden mingled with loud cries of denunciation and vengeance. "What is that uproar?" said the apostles. "Come," said Philip, who hurried from behind with the rest of the eight, "Come, let us gather around the master." At that word the disciples hastened forward. "Behold," said Jesus, "he who betrayeth me is at hand." The disciples looked in the direction which Jesus indicated, and there by the flaring light of the braziers carried by the Temple Watch, they saw Judas advancing at the head of his band. "What does this multitude want?" said Andrew. For an answer all the disciples cried as with one voice, "Alas! we are undone!" "And see," cried John, "Judas is at their head." Even as he said this, Judas, with long and stealthy steps, sprang forward, looking from side to side as he came, until he stopped immediately behind Jesus; then standing on tiptoe he reached over the shoulder of Jesus and kissed him, saying, "Hail, Master." [Illustration: "He reached over and kissed him."] Jesus answered, "Friend, wherefore art thou come? Betrayest thou the son of man with a kiss?" Then stepping forward to meet the armed band, he faced them fearlessly and said, "Whom seek ye?" A loud and angry shout went up from the soldiers: "Jesus of Nazareth!" Jesus said, "I am he." As he uttered these word the soldiers fell backward to the ground, crying, "Woe unto us! What is this?" The disciples exultantly cried, "One single word from him casts them to the ground." But Jesus said to the soldiers, "Fear not; arise." As they regained their feet the disciples whispered eagerly to Jesus saying, "Lord, cast them down so that they shall never rise again." But Jesus a second time asked, "Whom seek ye?" Again the crowd replied, "Jesus of Nazareth." Then Jesus said, "I have already told you that I am he; if therefore, ye seek me, let these go their way." Selpha, the leader of the band, cried, "Seize him!" The soldiers approached Jesus, Malchus and Balbus carrying in their hands a small cord, and grasped him by the wrists in order to bind him. Peter and Philip asked Jesus, saying, "Lord, shall we smite with the sword?" Before Jesus replied, Peter's sword flashed from its sheath and descended on the head of Malchus. The helmet turned the descending blade, and instead of splitting his skull it only sliced off his ear. "Alas!" cried Malchus, "I am wounded; my ear is off." Then said Jesus to the disciples, "Suffer ye thus far," and reaching forward to Malchus he said, "Be not troubled; thou shalt be healed." And touching his ear, that moment it was made whole. Malchus felt his ear with astonishment. His comrades satisfied themselves that the ear was as the other and stood motionless, while Jesus turned to Peter and said, "Put up thy sword into its sheath, for all they who take the sword shall perish with the sword. The cup which the Father hath given, shall I not drink it? Thinkest thou I cannot now pray to my Father, and he would presently give me more than twelve legions of angels? But how, then, would the Scriptures be fulfilled that thus it must be?" Then turning to the Pharisees he said, "Are ye come out as against a thief with swords and staves to take me? I sat daily with ye in the temple teaching, and ye took me not. But this is your hour and the power of darkness. Behold, I am here!" "Surround him!" cried Selpha; "bind him fast that he escape not." Then said Nathanael, whose eager zeal to destroy Jesus had led him to join the soldiers, "You are responsible to the council that he does not escape." At Selpha's command Malchus and Balbus had seized Christ, and were busily engaged in tying his hands together with cords. Slowly, one by one, the disciples stole away, leaving Jesus alone in the midst of his captors. In reply to Nathanael, the soldiers said, "Out of our hands he will not escape." Then cried with a loud voice the traders, with Dathan at their head, "Now, we will wreak our vengeance." And Dathan added, "Dost thou still remember what thou didst to us in the temple?" Josaphat said to the other Pharisees, "We will hasten on into the city. The Sanhedrin will be awaiting our arrival with impatience." The traders replied, "But we will not leave this scoundrel for an instant." "First," said Nathanael, "we must go to the High Priest Annas. Lead him thither!" Selpha said, "We follow thee!" As the band prepared to obey the word of command a trader came up to Judas and said approvingly, "Thou art a man, indeed. Thou knowest how to keep thy word." Judas complacently answered, "Did I not tell you that he would be in your power today?" The Pharisees said, "Thou hast placed the whole council under an obligation to thee." The procession then went off, leading Jesus to the palace of Annas. The Temple Watch formed behind Jesus, who with his hands bound before him, was thrown violently forward by Malchus and Balbus, who held the other ends of the cords which bound him, and marched behind him. They cried, "On with thee! In Jerusalem they will settle your affair!" Selpha, who marched at the head of his band, cried, "Let us hasten; lead him away carefully." And all the band shouted, "Ha, run now as thou hast hitherto run to and fro about the land of Judea." "Spare him not!" said Selpha, "drive him on!" "Forward," shouted the soldiers, shouting together; "otherwise thou shalt be driven on with staves." And as they marched away, driving Jesus before them the traders derided him, saying, "Doth Beelzebub, then, aid thee no longer?" * * * * * * It was dark night and there was silence in the street before the house of Annas, the high priest, when his door opened and Annas, attended by Esdras, Sidrach and Missel, came upon the balcony. "I can find no rest this night," said Annas, looking impatiently down the street, "until I know that this disturber of the peace is in our hands. Oh, if he were only safe, and in fetters. Full of longing and anxiety I await the arrival of my servants with the joyful news." Then said Esdras, "They cannot be much longer, for it is a good while since they went away." "In vain has my troubled gaze looked up and down the street of Kedron. But nothing can I see and nothing hear. Go, my Esdras, go toward the Kedron gate and see." "I will hasten out," said Esdras, hurrying away as quickly as his short, squat figure would allow. Annas, walking about impatiently, tormented by misgivings as to the success of the enterprise, began: "It would be a blow to the Sanhedrin if this time the work should not succeed." Sidrach said, "Do not give away to anxiety, high priest," and Missel added, "There is no doubt of our success." Annas, heeding not the consolation of his priests, said, "They may have altered their way and returned through the Siola Gate. I must send to see also on that side." Sidrach said, "If the high priest wishes it I will go to the Siola Gate." "Yes, do," said Annas, "but first see whether anyone comes through the street of the Sanhedrin." "I will not loiter, my lord," said Sidrach, as he disappeared in the darkness. Annas resumed his troubled thoughts. "The night is going by, and still the old uncertainty. Every minute of this weary waiting time is as an hour to me. Hark, I think some one comes running! Yes, he comes. Surely there will be good tidings." Sidrach, bursting into the presence of the high priest, exclaimed, "My lord, Esdras comes in haste. I saw him just now running down the street with rapid foot." Then said Annas, "Surely it is joyful news that he brings since he hastens so. Truly, I long for nothing now but the death of this malefactor." Then came Esdras, breathless with haste, crying, "Hail to the high priest. I have seen the fathers who were sent to Judas. All has gone according to your wish. The Galilean is in bonds. I heard it from their mouth, and hurried as fast as I could to bring the joyful news in haste to thee." Annas cried, "Oh, heavenly message! Auspicious hour! A stone is lifted from my heart; I feel as if I were born again. Now for the first time can I rejoice to call myself high priest of the chosen people." Then came in to Annas, Judas and the four Pharisees, who had been sent by the council to accompany him, crying, "Long live our high priest!" Nathanael exclaimed, "The wish of the council is accomplished." Annas said, "Oh, I must embrace you for joy. So, then, our plan has succeeded. Judas, thy name shall take an honorable place in our annals. Even before the feast shall the Galilean die." Judas, whom the Pharisees had brought in with the prisoner, startled by that word, sprang back, repeating incredulously, "Die!" "His death is declared!" said Annas. "For his life and blood," cried Judas, "I will not be responsible." "That is unnecessary," said Annas coolly, "he is in our power." "But," persisted Judas passionately, "I have not delivered him over to you for that." "Thou hast delivered him over," said the Pharisees, "and the rest is our business." Repulsed on every side, Judas, striking his forehead with his hand, cried, "Woe is me; what have I done? Shall he die? No! That I did not wish. That I will not have." As he hurried into the street the Pharisees laughed at him and said, "Whether thou wilt have it or not, die he must." Then said the priests to Annas, "High priest, the prisoner is at the threshold." Annas said, "Let Selpha, with as many of the watch as are necessary, bring him up here, while the rest await him below." Then was Jesus brought before Annas on the balcony in custody with Selpha, the leader of the Temple Watch and the two servants of the temple, Malchus and Balbus, holding the cords by which Jesus was bound. The rest of the watch remained in the street below. Selpha bowed low as he entered and said, "High priest, in accordance with thy command the prisoner now stands at thy bar." When Annas saw Jesus he said, "Have you brought him alone as prisoner?" Balbus answered, "His disciples dispersed like timid sheep." Selpha said, "We did not find it worth the trouble to arrest them. Nevertheless Malchus almost lost his life." "How did that happen?" asked Annas. "One of his followers," said Selpha, "with a drawn sword smote him and cut off his ear." "How could that be?" said Annas, looking first at one side of Malchus' head and then at the other. "It has left no mark; there is nothing to be seen." "Oh," said Balbus, mocking, "the magician has conjured it back again." "What sayest thou to that?" asked Annas. Malchus replied seriously, "I cannot explain it. It is a miracle that has happened to me." Annas frowned, "Has the deceiver also bewitched thee?" he asked, and then turning to Jesus said to him, "Say, by what power hast thou done this?" Jesus did not answer. "Speak," said Selpha, "when the high priest asks thee." "Speak," said Annas. "Give an account of thy disciples and thy teaching, which thou hast spread abroad over the whole land of Judea and with which thou hast corrupted the people." Then Jesus answered and said unto him, "I spake openly to the world, I ever taught in the synagogue and in the temple, and in secret I taught nothing. What askest thou me? Ask them that heard me what I have spoken. Behold, they know what I have said." Balbus, who was standing on the left hand of Jesus holding one end of the cord by which his hands were bound, struck him over the face a resounding blow, saying, "Answerest thou the high priest so?" Jesus answered, "If I have spoken evil, bear witness of the evil, but if I have spoken well why smitest thou me?" Then Annas exclaimed, "Wilt thou even now defy us, when thy life and death are in our power? I am weary of this villain!" and gave the signal for Jesus to be removed. "Oh," said Balbus, as he roughly thrust him forward, "wait a little. Thy obstinacy will vanish." As Jesus was being led down the steps Annas exclaimed, "I will go in now for a little while to rest, or rather to meditate quietly as to how the work so happily begun may be brought to an end. In any case the summons to the Sanhedrin will reach me at an early hour in the morning." Annas then entered into his own house, leaving Jesus in the street below in the midst of the soldiers. As Selpha appeared bringing Jesus into the street the watch cried out loudly, "Ha, is this business already over?" Selpha said, "His defense has turned out badly," and Balbus added, "After all it gained him a smart slap over the face." Selpha said, "Take him now and away with him to the palace of Caiaphas." "Off with him," cried the soldiers tumultuously. "Lift up thy feet. Cheer up!" said Balbus, mocking, "Thou wilt have a still better reception from Caiaphas," and the soldiers shouted as they marched, "There will be the raven's croak about thine ears!" When Jesus was taken from the house of Annas he was led through the streets, the band accompanying him, shouting as they went. On their way to the Sanhedrin they led Jesus down the street which passed Pilate's house, and as they went they cried to him with riotous laughter, "Thou shalt become a laughing stock for the whole nation!" Balbus said unto him scoffingly, "Make haste! Thy disciples are quite ready to proclaim thee King of Israel." And the soldiers laughed as they said, "Thou hast often dreamed of this; is it not so?" Then said Selpha, "Caiaphas will soon explain this dream to him." And Balbus, seeing that Jesus opened not his mouth, and was silent, shouted in his ear, "Dost thou hear? Caiaphas will announce to thee thy exaltation to a high position!" A great burst of hoarse laughter from the watch followed, as they shouted, "An exalted position between heaven and earth!" "Look out, you fellows!" cried Selpha, "there through the hall of Pilate's lies our nearest way to the palace of Caiaphas. There, station yourselves in the courtyard until further orders." The soldiers answered, "Thy command shall be fully obeyed!" Hardly had the noisy soldiery passed with their prisoner out of the street than Peter and John appeared before the house of Annas. Then said Peter, "How will it fare here with our good master? Oh, John, how anxious I am about him!" John answered, "He is certain to have to suffer here scorn and ill treatment. I am very much afraid of approaching the house." Peter said, "But it is so silent about here." John replied, "One hears not a sound in the place. Could they have taken him away again?" As they were talking Esdras came out from the house of Annas and asked, "What do you want at the palace at this time of night?" John answered, "Forgive us; we saw a number of people from afar come hither from the Kedron Gate, and we came here in order to see what had happened." Esdras answered, "They have brought in a prisoner, but he has already been sent to Caiaphas." "To Caiaphas," said the disciples, "then we will go away at once." "You had better, otherwise I will have you taken, up as night brawlers," said Esdras. "We will go away quietly and make no disturbance," said Peter, meekly. As they went the priest, looking after them, said, "Perhaps they are followers of the Galilean. If I only knew. However, they will not escape our people if they go to the palace of Caiaphas. The whole of his following must be destroyed. Otherwise the people will never be brought into obedience." He then returned into the house. CHAPTER V. PETER COMMITS PERJURY. How bleeds my heart! The Holiest stands before the judgement seat. The malice of sinners he must bear, Betrayed and outraged, bound and beaten there. O, sons of men, your faces veil this day!-- The scarred form is touched by impious hands, From Annas dragged to Caiaphas away, What's here foreshadowed, see, fulfilled it stands. See Jesus, how in silence he Bears outrage, blows and mockery! O! what a man! Oh, hearts of men who now draw near, Melt with compassion when you see Bowed down in deepest misery! O! what a man! Caiaphas, in his bed chamber, wearing a dressing gown, surrounded by priests, exulted over the news which had been brought him of the arrest of Jesus. "This happy capture," said he, "promises us a fortunate realization of our wishes. I thank you, noble members of the Sanhedrin, for zealous and prudent co-operation." But the priests with one voice cried, "The greatest share of praise belongs to our high priest!" "Now," said Caiaphas, "let us pursue our path without delay. Everything is ready! The council will immediately be assembled. The necessary witnesses have already been brought along. I shall now without losing a moment, at once begin the trial of the prisoner. Then judgment shall be pronounced and provision made that it shall be executed. The quicker the execution the surer the result!" Dathan said, "It would be advisable to get everything over before our adversaries recover their senses." Caiaphas replied, "I have encountered this necessity. Trust me, my friends. I have thought of a plan. I hope to carry it out." At this Zadok said, "The wisdom of our high priest deserves our fullest confidence," and then cried they all, "the God of our fathers bless all his measures!" Then Selpha, the leader of the band, brought Jesus into the chamber of Caiaphas, the high priest, Balbus and Malchus holding the cords by which his hands were bound. "Illustrious High Priest, here is the prisoner," said Selpha. "Bring him nearer," said Caiaphas, "so that I may look him in the face and question him." "Step forward," said Selpha, "and show respect here to the head of the Sanhedrin." Then Caiaphas, having looked into the face of Jesus, said to him disdainfully, "Thou art he then who dreamed of bringing about the destruction of the synagogue, and the law of Moses?" Then assuming a more judicial tone, he said, "Thou art accused that thou hast stirred up the people to disobedience, that thou hast despised the holy traditions of the fathers, that thou hast transgressed the divine command for the keeping of the Sabbath day, and that thou hast even been guilty of many blasphemous speeches and acts. Here," Caiaphas continues, pointing to five Jews who had entered the chamber at the same time as Selpha brought in Jesus, and had taken their stand on the left of the high priest, confronting the accused, "Here stand honorable men who are prepared to prove the truth, of these accusations by their testimony. Hear them and then thou mayest answer if thou canst." Then stood forth the first witness and spoke, saying, "I can testify before God that this man has stirred up the people by openly denouncing the members of the council and the scribes as hypocrites, ravening wolves in sheeps' clothing, blind leaders of the blind, and has declared that no one shall follow their work." At this the members of the Sanhedrin smiled approvingly one to another. The second witness said, "I can also testify to this, and can still further declare that he has forbidden the people to pay tribute to Caesar." "Yes," interrupted the first witness, "at any rate he has dropped words of double meaning about that." Then Caiaphas turned to Jesus and said, "What sayest thou unto this?" He paused for a reply, but Jesus opened not his mouth. Then said Caiaphas, "Art thou silent? Hast thou nothing to answer?" But Jesus never answered a word. The third witness took up his testimony. "I have often seen how he with his disciples, in defiance of the law, has eaten with unwashed hands; how he has become accustomed to hold friendly intercourse with publicans and sinners and go into their houses to eat with them." "That we have also seen," cried the other witnesses together. "I have heard many credible people say that he has even spoken with Samaritans, and indeed has lived with them for days together." Then the first witness began to speak again: "I was a witness how he has done on the Sabbath what is forbidden by God's law, in that he healed sick and infirm people without fear on that day. He has seduced others to break the Sabbath; he ordered a man to take up his bed and carry it to his house." The second witness joined in, "I also can testify to this." Again Caiaphas turned to Jesus and said, "What has thou to say against this evidence?" And after a pause, seeing that Jesus still spoke not, he said, "Hast thou nothing to say in reply?" But Jesus spoke not. Then said the third witness, addressing himself to Jesus, "Thou hast, for I was present, taken upon thyself to forgive sins, which belongs to God alone. Thou hast, therefore, blasphemed God." Then again spoke the first witness, "Thou hast called God thy Father, and hast dared to declare that thou art one with the Father. Thou hast therefore made thyself equal to God." The second witness added, "Thou hast exalted thyself above our father Abraham. Thou didst say, 'Before Abraham was, I am.'" Then spoke the fourth witness, who said, "Thou hast said, 'I can destroy the temple of God, and in three days build it up again.'" The fifth witness, who had not hitherto spoken, stood forward and said, "I have heard thee say, 'I will destroy this temple which is made with hands, and in three days I will build another made without hands.'" This concluded the testimony of the witnesses. Then Caiaphas, turning to Jesus, spoke to him with indignation: "So thou hast claimed to possess a superhuman divine power? These are serious accusations, and they are legally proved; answer if thou canst." Jesus remaining silent, Caiaphas resumed, "Thou thinkest that by silence thou canst save thyself. Thou darest not to admit before the fathers and judges of the people what thou hast taught before the people. Or dost thou dare?" Then rising to his utmost height, and stretching his hand on high, Caiaphas continued, "Hear, then, I, the high priest, adjure thee by the living God. Say--art thou the Messiah, the Son of the Most High?" and as he uttered the sacred name Caiaphas crossed his arms and dropped his head on his breast. For a moment there was silence, then Jesus answered and said, "Thou hast said it, and so I am. Nevertheless, I say unto you, hereafter ye shall see the Son of Man sitting on the right hand of God in power and coming in the clouds of heaven." As Jesus spoke these words, the members of the council started in horror, and Caiaphas rending his robe, exclaimed with a loud voice, "He has blasphemed God! What need have we of any further witnesses? You yourselves have heard the blasphemy. What think ye?" And all the members of the council cried together, "He is worthy of death." Then said Caiaphas, "He is thus unanimously declared worthy of death. But not I, not the council, but the law of God pronounces the death sentence upon him. You teachers of the law, I call upon you to answer; what does the holy law say of him who is guilty of disobedience to the authorities appointed by God?" Then stood up Josue, and unrolling the book of the law read therefrom: "The man that will do presumptuously and will not hearken to the priest that standest to minister there before the Lord thy God, or unto the judge, even that man shalt die, and thou shalt put away the evil from Israel." Then again said Caiaphas, "What does the law decree concerning him who profaneth the Sabbath?" Then Ezekiel stood up and read, "Ye shall keep the Sabbath therefore, for it is holy unto you. Every one that defileth it shall surely be put to death; for whosoever doeth any work therein that soul shall be cut off from his people." Then asked Caiaphas, "How does the law punish the blasphemer?" Then stood up Nathanael, and unrolling the book of the law, read: "Speak unto the children of Israel saying, whosoever curseth his God shall bear his sin. And he that blasphemeth the name of the Lord he shall surely be put to death; all the congregation shall certainly stone him, as well the stranger as him that is born in this land." "Thus," said Caiaphas, "is the judgment pronounced upon this Jesus of Nazareth--pronounced according to law, and shall be carried out as speedily as possible. Meanwhile I will have the condemned placed under safe guard. Lead him forth, guard him, and by the safe dawn of the morning bring him to the Great Sanhedrin." "Come, then, Messiah," said Selpha, roughly, "we will show thee thy palace." "There thou shalt receive due homage," said Balbus, as he placed his hand on the shoulder of Jesus, and marched him out of the chamber. Then said Caiaphas exultingly, "We are approaching the goal. Now, however, resolute steps are necessary." The priests and Pharisees cried together, "We will not rest until he is brought to death." Then said Caiaphas, "With the break of day let us come together again. This must be announced to the High Priest Annas and the rest. Then shall the sentence be confirmed by the whole assembled council, and the prisoner will immediately be brought before Pilate in order that he may confirm it and have it executed." The priests then departed, crying as they went, "God deliver us soon from our enemy." When the council had been dismissed and all was still, Judas, moving as one distracted, came down the street in front of the high priest's palace; as he went he muttered to himself: "Fearful forebodings drive me hither and thither. That word of Annas' 'He must die!' Oh, that word pursues me everywhere." Then, as if he remembered all that had happened, Judas cried, "No, it cannot come to that; they will not carry things so far! That would be too terrible if my Master--no!--and I--guilty of it? No! Here in the house of Caiaphas, I will inquire how things stand. Shall I go in? I can no longer bear this uncertainty, and it terrifies me to ascertain the certainty. My heart throbs with terror--surely I shall not have to hear the worst. Yet it must come some time." And thereupon he went into the house of the high priest. Meanwhile in the hall of Caiaphas the Temple Watch was standing waiting the result of the examination of Jesus before Caiaphas. In the hall were the servant maids, Sarah and Hagar, who seeing the soldiers standing outside, went to the door, and said, "You may come in here." It was Hagar who spoke first, and Sarah added, "It is more comfortable in here." "True for you, good people," said Melchi, one of the soldiers. Then calling out, "Ho, comrades, come in! It is better for us to lie down in the hall." Then said a soldier named Arphaxad, "I like this; I wish we had come in long ago; how stupid we are, always standing outside in the open air and shivering. But where is there any fire?" "Sarah," added another soldier, "go and bring us fire, also wood to lay thereon." "Willingly," said Hagar. "That you shall have," said Sarah. They went out together to comply with the soldier's wish. "Will the trial soon come to an end?" asked several of the soldiers. "It will last," said Melchi, "until all the witnesses are examined." "And," added Panther, "the accused will also use all his eloquence to get himself out of the scrape." "That will help him nothing," said Arphaxad; "he has offended the priests too much." Then returned the serving maids with a brazier in which there was a little fire and some wood, which they placed thereon, making a great smoke. "Here is your fire," said Hagar, "wood and fire tongs." Then cried the soldiers together, "Thanks, you good girls." "Yes," said Panther, stooping down over the brazier, "that is good. Now take care that the fire does not go out." Several of the soldiers stooped over the fire, piled on wood, and Sarah busied herself with bringing in meat and bread. Peter and John, who had been wandering about the streets seeking for tidings, came to the door, John preceding Peter. Hagar, who saw John standing in the entrance of the door, said, "John, comest thou also hither in the middle of the night? Come in here, then, thou must warm thyself. Could you make a little room for this young man here?" said Hagar addressing the soldiers. "Yes, indeed," cried the band together. Then said John, "Good Hagar, I have a companion with me; can he not also come in?" "Where is he?" said Hagar. "Let him come in; why does he stand out in the cold?" John went to where Peter was standing, but came back alone. "Where is he?" said Hagar. "He stands on the threshold, but does not trust himself to come in," replied John. Then Hagar went to the door and said, "Come in, good friend; do not be afraid." All the soldiers cried, "Friend, come also in here to us and warm thyself!" Peter without saying a word timidly drew near to the fire and warmed his hands in the smoke. The men went on talking round the fire and Arphaxad said, after a pause, "We still see and hear nothing of the prisoner." Several then asked together, "How much longer must we wait here?" Then said Panther, "Probably he will come out from the trial as a man condemned to death." "I wonder," said Arphaxad, "whether his disciples will be sought after?" Peter trembled as the band with hoarse laughter cried aloud, "That would be a fine piece of work if they all had to be captured!" Then said Panther, "It would not be worth the trouble. If the Master is once out of the way, then the Galileans will fly and never let themselves be seen again in Jerusalem. But," said Panther, "one at least ought to receive sharp punishment; he who in the garden drew his sword and cut off Malchus' ear." "Yes, yes," cried the band, laughing, "that should be, as it is said, an ear for an ear!" "Ha, ha, ha, a good idea!" laughed Panther, "but that rule would here find no application, for Malchus has his ear back again." During this time, while the soldiers were laughing and talking, Hagar was curiously looking at Peter. Immediately a pause took place, Hagar said to Peter, "I have been observing thee for some time. Now, if I do not mistake, thou art one of the disciples of the Galilean. Yes, yes, thou wert with Jesus of Nazareth." Peter started up from the fire over which he had been warming his hands and stammered out, "I? No, I am not. Woman, I know him not, neither know I what thou sayest." When Hagar thus spoke all the soldiers looked at Peter, who fearing his attack on Malchus might be resented, tried to slip through the band and escape unobserved. Passing the fire, he came close to the other waiting maid, Sarah, who, looking him full in the face, said in a shrill voice, "See, this man was also with Jesus of Nazareth." The attention of the whole band being aroused, they all clustered around Peter, asking, "Art thou also one of the disciples?" Levi said, "Thou art one of them, quite certainly." Peter in the midst of armed and violent men, looked confusedly from side to side and declared, "Upon my soul--I am not--I do not know the man." Even as he spoke the cock crew, but the rattle of the weapons of the soldiers and imminent menace of a violent death left him no leisure to attend to anything but his own safety, for a soldier at the same moment exclaimed, "Look at this man. Of a truth he was also with him." Then said Peter stoutly, "I know not what ye have to do with me. What does this man matter to me?" But the soldiers crowding round him said, "Yes, yes, thou art one of them. Thou art also a Galilean; thy speech betrayeth thee." Then Peter, raising his hands on high, said with a troubled voice, "God be my witness that I do not know the man of whom ye speak;" and the cock crew a second time. Then Melchi, pressing forward, looked Peter full in the face and said, "Did I not see thee in the garden with him, when my cousin Malchus had his ear cut off?" At this moment, when the situation was getting very serious for Peter, attention was called off from him by a cry from the soldiers round the fire. "Make ready, they are bringing in the prisoner." Selpha then brought in Jesus bound between Malchus and Balbus. "Now, how have things gone?" eagerly inquired Arphaxad. "He is condemned to death," said Selpha. The soldiers mocking, cried, "Poor king!" At this moment Jesus met Peter, and looked upon him with a gaze full of sorrow. Peter smote his head with his hand and went out into the night. "Come," said Arphaxad, "he will help us to pass the time." "Forward, comrades," said Selpha, "we must guard him till morning." Thereupon they all went out. Peter, when he had left the hall of the high priest, went out into the street weeping bitterly and suffering anguish of soul. "Oh, my Master," he cried, "how deeply have I fallen! Oh, woe unto me, weak and wretched man! I have three times denied my dearest friend and teacher. I cannot understand how I could so forget myself. A curse upon my shameful faithlessness! How my heart will repent of it--this contemptible cowardice. My dearest Lord, hast thou still grace for me--grace for a faithless, one--oh! send it me! This once more hear the voice of my repentant heart. Alas! the sin is committed. I cannot undo it, but ever, ever, will I weep for it and repent of it--and now nevermore will I leave thee! Oh, thou most loving one! Thou wilt surely not cast me off! Thou wilt not despise my bitter, repentance. No! the gentle pitying look which thou didst cast upon thy deeply fallen disciple promises it--thou wilt forgive me. I have this hope from thee, best of teachers, and the whole love of my heart shall from this moment be given to thee. I will cling closely to thee and nothing, nothing shall ever be able to separate thee from me again!" And with a face beaming with hope of forgiveness, even for his threefold denial, he went away. Hardly had he gone, when John entered at the other end of the street, asking anxiously, looking on either side, "Where, then, can Peter have gone? In vain my eyes have sought him in the crowd. Surely nothing evil can have befallen him. Perhaps I still may meet him upon the road. I will now go to Bethany. Dearest mother, if I bring thee the tidings of these terrible things which have happened--the innocent one ill-treated and condemned by sinners, what wilt thy heart feel? O, Judas, Judas, what hast thou done?" Now it came to pass that the soldiers having taken Jesus into the guardroom of Caiaphas' palace, mocked him and despitefully used him until it was day. They seated him on a stool with a bandage over his eyes, and surrounded him mockingly, saying, "Is not this throne too mean for thee, great king? Hail to thee, thou new-born sovereign! But sit more firmly," said one, seizing Jesus from behind and pressing him down on his chair. "Thou mightest otherwise fall down. Thou art verily also a prophet. So say, O great Elias, say who it is who has struck thee," and with that he dealt Jesus a blow on the face. Others came in and also struck him, saying, "Was it I?" but Jesus answered nothing. Then one of the band went up to him and shouted, "Hearest thou nothing?" and shook him violently by the shoulders. "Art thou asleep?" Then turning to his comrades he exclaimed, "He is deaf and dumb; a fine prophet indeed." And thereupon he roughly pushed Jesus forward so that he fell from the stool upon the ground upon his face. "Alas! alas!" they cried. "Our king has fallen from his throne. What is to be done now? We have no longer any king. Thou art to be pitied, such a great magician and now so weak and weary! Come, help us to put him again upon his throne." And then they seized him where he lay on the ground with his eyes bandaged and his hands tied, and lifted him again upon his seat. "Raise thyself, O mighty king; receive anew our homage." As they were kneeling around him in scorn a messenger of Caiaphas entered saying, "How goes it now with the king?" and the band shouted, "He speaks and prophesies not; we can do nothing with him." "Then," said the messenger, "the high priest and Pilate will soon make him speak. Caiaphas sends me to bring him." "Up, comrades," said Selpha. Thereupon, taking Jesus again by the cords which bound his hands, they led him off, saying, "Stand up; thou hast been king long enough." And all shouted, "Away with thee. Thy kingdom has come to an end." CHAPTER VI. JUDAS HANGS HIMSELF. The guilty deed fails not to win its wages, The guiltless blood he sold cries from the ground; Driven to madness by the worm that rages And scourged by furies, Judas ranges round Wildly, and finds no rest From the fire in his breast, Till swept away by bitterest despair He flings away in reckless haste The load of life he can no longer bear. When Jesus was being mocked and ill-treated by the soldiers in the guardroom of Caiaphas' palace, Judas wandered to and fro in despair. "Now my fearful foreboding has become a terrible certainty. Caiaphas has sentenced the Master to death, and the council has concurred in his sentence. All is over. There is no hope, no way of escape. Had the Master wished to save himself he would have made them feel his might a second time in the garden. As he did not do it then, he will now do so no more. What can I do for him, I, a miserable wretch who have delivered him into their hands? They shall have the money back, that blood money. They must give me my Master back again. I will go at once and make the demand. But, oh, will he be saved by that? Oh, vain, foolish hope. They will mock me, I know it. O cursed synagogue, thou hast tempted me through thy messengers, thou hast hidden from me thy bloody designs until thou hadst him in thy clutches. I will torture thee with bitter reproaches, ye unjust judges. I will have nothing to do with your devilish decision. I will have no share in the blood of this innocent. Oh, what tortures, what pains of hell, tear my inmost soul!" So saying he departed. Now within the hall of the Sanhedrin were assembled the high priests, the scribes and the leaders. Caiaphas and Annas arrayed in their robes, sat in the high place of the council, and all the seats were filled except those of Joseph of Arimathea and Nicodemus. Caiaphas spoke, saying, "I thought, fathers, that I could not wait till the morning to send the enemy of the synagogue to death." And Annas said, "I could not get a moment's rest for eagerness to hear the sentence pronounced." Then cried they all, "It is pronounced. He shall and must die." Caiaphas said, "I did not wish to trouble all the members of the Sanhedrin to come hither in the night time. But there was present the necessary number of judges to pronounce as the law prescribes. All as with one mouth declared the accused worthy of death, for all had heard with their own ears how this man blasphemed God in the most terrible way, and was impious enough to call himself the Son of God." The priests and Pharisees who had previously been present answered, "Yea, we bear witness to it. We have ourselves heard the impious blasphemy from his lips." "Then," said Caiaphas, "I will have the criminal brought before you once more, so that you may be convinced of his being worthy of death. Then may the whole council pronounce the just sentence." As he was speaking, Judas, looking haggard and distracted, rushed into the midst of the council, crying wildly, "Is it true? Have you condemned my Master to death?" Then said the rabbi unto him, "Why dost thou force thyself uncalled for in this assembly? Be off. We will call thee if we have need of thee." But Judas took no heed. "I must know it," he said. "Have you condemned him?" Then all in the council cried aloud, "He must die." "Woe, woe!" said Judas. "I have sinned. I have betrayed innocent blood. Oh, you blood-thirsty judges, to condemn the innocent blood." "Peace, peace, Judas," cried the council. "There will never, never more be peace for me," said Judas, bitterly, "and none for you. The blood of the innocent cries aloud for vengeance." "What has driven you crazy? Speak, but speak with reverence--thou standest before the Sanhedrin," said Caiaphas. Then said Judas passionately: "You are determined to deliver him up to death; him who is free from all guilt. You must not do it. I have a protest to make against it. You have made me a traitor. Your accursed pieces of silver!" Annas interrupted him, saying, "Thou didst propose it thyself and close the bargain." Then said the priest unto him, "Recollect thyself, Judas, thou hast received what thou didst desire; and if thou behavest thyself decently thou canst still----" Judas interrupted him. "I will have nothing more. I tear up your shameful bargain. Let the innocent go." "Be off, madman," said a rabbi angrily. But Judas, taking no heed, knelt and stretched his hands toward Caiaphas. "I demand the release of the innocent. My hands shall be free from his blood." "What," said the rabbi, "thou contemptible traitor, wilt thou dictate to the Sanhedrin? Know this, thy Master must die, and thou hast delivered him to death." And all the priests and Pharisees cried aloud, "He must die." And Judas, with staring eyes, as one demented, repeated, "Die? Then I am a traitor. I have given him up to death!" He sank down like a man crushed by a blow, and then springing up and breaking out into wild passion, he shouted aloud: "May ten thousand devils from hell tear me in pieces! Let them grind me to powder! Here, ye bloodhounds, take your accursed blood money!" And with that he snatched the bag from his girdle and flung it violently before the seat of the high priest. "Why didst thou let thyself be made the tool for a transaction which thou didst not weigh beforehand?" said Caiaphas. "Yes," cried several, "it is your own business." Then shouted Judas wildly, "May my soul be damned, my body burnt asunder, and ye--" "Silence and out from here," cried all the priests together. "And you," shouted Judas, above them all, "you will sink with me into the lowest hell!" He then rushed from the hall. After a pause, during which the chief priests and rulers looked at each other in silence, the money lay unnoticed on the floor. Caiaphas said, "What a fearful man!" "I had some foreboding of this," said Annas. "It is his own fault," remarked a priest. Then said Caiaphas, "Let him expiate that fault himself. He has betrayed his friend, we pursue our enemy. I remain steadfast by my determination, and if anyone here should be of another opinion, let him stand up." "No," cried they all with one voice, "what has been resolved upon, let it be carried out." Then said Caiaphas, "What shall we do with this money? It is blood money; it can no longer be put into the treasury of God." Annas said, "It might be used for some useful purpose under the sanction of the high council." All agreed to this, and a priest said, "A burying place for strangers is much wanted. With this money a field may be purchased for that purpose." "Is there such a one in the market?" asked Caiaphas. "Yes," said a priest, "a potter in the city has offered a piece of ground for sale at just this price." "Let Saras conclude the purchase," said Caiaphas. They then picked up the money which had lain untouched on the floor. "But now we will no longer delay to pronounce the capital sentence upon the prisoner," continued Caiaphas. Then said a rabbi, "I will have him brought in at once." "I shall see," said Annas, "whether the scorn which he showed toward me has not yet left him. A real satisfaction will it be to me to share in the sentence. Let him die." Jesus then was brought in a second time before Caiaphas. Selpha, as before, preceded him, and Balbus and Malchus led him bound by the hands with a cord. "Stand there," said Selpha, "and show more respect to the council than thou didst before." Then he added, "Venerable fathers, here we bring the prisoner." Then said Caiaphas, "Lead him into the middle." Balbus, laying his hand on the shoulder of Jesus, thrust him forward saying, "Step forward." Then Caiaphas spake unto Jesus, saying, "Jesus of Nazareth, dost thou stand by the words which thou hast pronounced this night before thy judges?" Annas added, "If thou be the Christ, tell us!" Then Jesus answered and said, "If I tell you ye will not believe; if I also ask you, ye will not answer me nor let me go. But hereafter shall ye see the Son of Man sitting on the right hand of Almighty God." A shudder ran through the Sanhedrin, and all cried excitedly, "Art thou the Son of God?" Jesus answered, "Ye say it and so I am." Annas exclaimed, "It is enough; what need have we of any further witnesses?" The priests and Pharisees who had not attended the night council, said, "We have now heard it out of his own mouth." Then said Caiaphas, "Fathers of the people of Israel, it is now your duty to come to a final decision as to the guilt and punishment of this man." Then cried they all, "He is guilty of blasphemy. He hath deserved death." Caiaphas said, "We will therefore lead him before the judgment seat of Pilate." And they all answered and said, "Yes, away with him. Let him die." "Pilate," said Caiaphas, "must first be informed in order that he may proclaim the sentence before the feast." A rabbi said, "Could some one be sent from the council in order to give him timely information?" "Thou thyself," said Caiaphas, "together with Dariabbas and Rabinth shalt go before. We will speedily come after." When these three had departed Caiaphas said, "This day, then, will save the religion of our fathers, and exalt the honor of the synagogue, so that the echo of our fame shall reach our latest descendants." All shouted, "Men will speak of us centuries hence!" and Caiaphas resumed, "Lead him away; we follow." Once more they cried, "Down with the Galilean!" and departed. The three messengers sent by the Sanhedrin drew near to the house of Pilate, and as they went they spoke among themselves. The rabbi said: "At last we breathe more freely again; we have been insulted long enough." Dariabbas replied, "It was indeed high time; his following was becoming very large." "Now," said the rabbi, "there is nothing more to be feared from him. The traders have in these days displayed the most creditable activity, to have gained for us a crowd of determined people. You will see if it comes to anything, they will effectively take the lead. The waverers will concur with them, and the followers of the Nazarene will find it well to be silent, and take themselves off." Then said Rabinth, seeing they had approached the place of Pilate, "How shall we bring our message to Pilate? We dare not enter the house of the Gentile today, as in that case we should become unclean and could not eat the Passover?" "We will send a message through one of his own people," said the rabbi, and going up the stairs to the balcony of Pilate's house, he knocked gently at the door. Standing and listening, he said, "Surely, there is some one there? Yes, there is some one coming," and retired a little way down the steps, so as to avoid any contact with the Gentile. A servant of Pilate opened it and said, "Welcome, rabbi, will you not come in?" "The precepts of the law will not allow us so to do today," said the rabbi. The servant said, "Is that so? Can I carry your message?" "The high priest sends us to bring a petition to the viceroy of Caesar to ask if he will allow the council to appear before him and to bring before him a malefactor for the confirmation of his sentence." "I will deliver the message at once to my lord; wait here in the meantime," said the servant, and went into Pilate. The rabbi returning down the steps joined Dariabbas and Rabinth, who stood below. "It is very sad," said Dariabbas, "that we must knock at the door of a Gentile in order to get the behests of our holy law executed." "Take courage," said the rabbi, "when once this domestic enemy is removed out of the way, who knows whether we might not soon free ourselves from the foreign foe?" Rabinth exclaimed, "Oh, may I live to see the day which will bring freedom to the children of Israel!" Pilate's servant returned and spoke unto them saying, "The governor greets you. You are to inform the high priest that Pilate is ready to receive the petition of the Sanhedrin." "Accept our thanks for thy kindness," said the rabbi. "Now let us hasten to report to the high priest the result of our errand." The servant then returned and closed the door behind him. The three messengers then returned. Rabinth remarked anxiously, "Pilate will surely agree to the demand of the council." "He must," said the rabbi, "how could he resist it when the Sanhedrin and the whole people demand with one voice the death of this man?" "And besides," said Dariabbas, "what does the governor care about the life of a single Galilean? Were it merely to please the high priest, who is of great importance to him, he would not hesitate to permit the execution." Now, Judas, being distracted by remorse, found himself, after wandering to and fro, in the potter's field, purchased with the thirty pieces of silver, in the midst of which stood a blasted tree. Then after wildly looking around to see if anyone was near, he said: "Oh, where, where can I go to hide my shame, to escape the torments of conscience? No forest is dark enough! No rocky cavern deep enough! O, earth, open and swallow me up! I can no longer exist. O, my dear Master! Him, best of all men, have I sold, giving him up to ill treatment, to a most painful death of torture. I, detestable betrayer--oh! where is there another man on whom such guilt of blood doth rest? Alas! nevermore can I appear before the face of the brethren. An outcast, hated and abhorred everywhere--branded as a traitor by those who led me astray--I wander about alone with this burning fire in my heart. There is still one left. Oh! might I look on the Master's face once more, I would cling to him as my only anchor. But he lies in prison, has perhaps been already slain by the rage of his enemies, although by my guilt, by my fault. I am the abhorred one who has brought him to prison and to death. Woe to me, the scum of men! There is no hope for me, my crimes can be expiated by no penance. For he is dead--and I, I am his murderer! Thrice unhappy hour in which my mother gave me to the world! Must I still drag on this life of agony and bear these tortures about with me?--as one pest stricken, flee from men, and be despised and shunned by all the world? No! I can bear it no longer! Not one step further! Here, O life accursed, here will I end thee! On these branches let the most disastrous fruit hang!" He untwined his girdle and twined it about his neck. "Ha, ha! come, thou serpent, entwine my neck and strangle the betrayer!" As Judas spoke the last words he tied with convulsive and feverish agony the long girdle around his neck, fastened it to the branch of the tree, and swung himself off. CHAPTER VII. JESUS, PILATE AND HEROD. Thus before Pilate's judgment seat The council, full of passion's heat, Come to demand Messiah's blood. Oh, what has made them mad and blind? And what has kindled in their mind Of fury such a fiery flood? 'Tis envy which no mercy knows In which hell's flame most fiercely glows-- Lights this devouring fire, All's sacrificed unto its lust-- Nothing too sacred, good or just To fall to its desire. Oh, woe to those whom passion sweeps Helpless and bound into the deeps. Then went the high priests and the scribes, together with the rulers and traders of the temple, and the witnesses, to the house of Pilate. Jesus was led forth in front of them by Balbus and Malchus as before, Selpha being in command of the band of soldiers. As they went the soldiers shouted aloud, "Away with thee to death, thou false prophet! Ha! doth it dismay thee that thou wilt not go forward?" "Drive him on," said Selpha. But Jesus being weary walked with slow footsteps. Then the soldiers thrust him forward, crying, "Shall we have to carry thee in our arms? Go on! Thou hast not far to go, only to Calvary; there upon the cross thou canst rest in comfort." By this time they had approached the precincts of Pilate's house. Then said Caiaphas to the soldiers, "Be still; we have to announce our coming." And they were still. The rabbi said, "Go to the door and knock." It was done, and Quintus came out, saying, "What does this crowd of people want here?" The rabbi replied that the council had assembled there. Quintus promised to announce them at once, and the rabbi turning to the members of the Sanhedrin, said, "Do you hear? He will announce our presence without delay." Caiaphas addressed those who were following him: "Ye members of the Sanhedrin, if you have at heart the holy traditions, our honor, the tranquility of the whole land, then consider well this moment. It decides between us and that deceiver. If you are men in whom flows the blood of your fathers, then listen to us. An imperishable monument you will set up for yourselves. Be firm in your resolve." Then cried the priests, "Our fathers forever; death to the enemy of the nation!" "Do not rest, then," said Caiaphas, "until he is blotted out of the number of the living!" And they cried again, "We will not rest, we demand his death, his blood." Then the soldiers turned to Jesus and said, "Hearest thou that, O king and prophet?" Then came Pilate out with his attendants upon the balcony of the house; two spearmen on either side advanced to the foot of the steps of the balcony, and stood spear in hand whilst the audience listed. Then Caiaphas stepped forward in front of the crowd, and, bowing low, thus began, "Governor and representative of the great Caesar, health and blessing to thee." Then Caiaphas continued: "We have brought here before thy judgment seat a man of the name of Jesus that thou mayest consent to the execution of the death sentence pronounced against him by the Sanhedrin." Pilate answered, "Bring him forth," and the soldiers led Jesus, out before Pilate so that he stood on the right hand of the balcony. Pilate having looked upon him asked, "What accusations have you to bring against this man?" [Illustration: "What accusations have you to bring against this man?"] Caiaphas, speaking with some surprise, said, "If he were not a great malefactor we would not have delivered him over to thee, but have dealt with him ourselves according to the direction of our holy law." "Well, of what evil deeds has he been guilty?" asked Pilate. Caiaphas answered, "He has in many ways grievously offended against the holy law of Israel." Pilate answered, "Then take him away and judge him according to your law." Then said Annas, "He has already been judged by the Sanhedrin and has been declared to be worthy of death." Then all the priests cried aloud, "For according to our law he has deserved death." But Caiaphas explained: "It is not lawful for us to execute the sentence of death upon any one; therefore we bring the application for the execution of the sentence to the representative of Caesar." Then Pilate having looked upon Jesus and upon Caiaphas asked, with indignation, "How can I deliver a man over to death unless I know the crime, and before I have satisfied myself that his crime is worthy of death? What has he done?" Then said the rabbi, "The sentence of the council upon this man was unanimously pronounced, and grounded upon a careful investigation into his crimes. It seems therefore unnecessary that the illustrious governor should take upon himself the trouble of a second investigation. "What," said Pilate, hotly, "do you dare to suggest to me, the representative of Caesar, that I should be a blind instrument for the execution of your orders? Be that far from me! I must know what law he has broken, and in what way." Caiaphas, Annas and the members of the Sanhedrin waxed wroth and spoke warmly among themselves on hearing the words of Pilate. Caiaphas answered and said, "We have a law and by our law he ought to die because he made himself the Son of God," while all the people shouted, "We all have heard the blasphemy from his own lips," and Annas added, "And upon that account we must insist that he suffers the legal punishment." Then Pilate said scornfully unto them, "On account of such a speech, which at the most is only the outcome of an enthusiastic imagination, a Roman can find no one guilty of death. Who knows also," he added, with a glance at Jesus, "whether this man may not be the son of some god! If you have no other crime to lay to his charge you need not think that I will fulfil your desires." Caiaphas answered and said, "Not only against our holy law, but also against Caesar himself has this man been guilty of serious offences. We have found him to be an insurgent and deceiver of the people." Then cried all the priests and Pharisees together tumultuously, "He is an agitator and a rebel." Pilate answered, "I have heard of one Jesus who was said to go about the country and teach and do extraordinary works, but I have never heard of any sedition stirred up by him. Were anything of that kind to happen I should have heard of it before you, who am appointed for the maintenance of peace in the land, and am perfectly well informed concerning the words and deeds of the Jews. But tell me, when and where has he stirred up any commotion?" Then Nathanael stood forward and said unto Pilate, "He brings together multitudes by thousands around him and he has quite recently, surrounded by such a crowd, made a solemn entry into Jerusalem itself." "O I know that," said Pilate contemptuously, "but nothing took place on that occasion to disturb the public peace." By this time Caiaphas and the priests were in a state of indignation which they did not care to conceal, and Caiaphas asked angrily, "Is it not sedition if he forbid the people to pay tribute to Caesar?" Pilate asked, "Where have you proof of that?" "Proof enough," retorted Caiaphas, "for he gives himself out as the Messiah, the king of Israel. Is not that to challenge the imperial authority?" Pilate replied, sarcastically, "I admire your suddenly awakened zeal for the authority of Caesar." Then turning to Jesus, who had stood silent during the altercation, he asked him, saying, "Hearest thou what serious accusations these bring against thee? What answerest thou?" Jesus remained silent. "See," said Caiaphas, eagerly, "He cannot deny it. His silence is an admission of his crime." Then cried all the multitude, stretching out their hands toward Pilate, "Sentence him then!" "Patience," said Pilate, "there is time enough for that. I will take him apart for a private hearing." Pilate, speaking to his attendants, said, "Perhaps when he is no longer confused by the crowd and the fury of his accusers he will answer me." Then, speaking to his servants he said, "Lead him into the court." And turning to Caiaphas and the Sanhedrin, he said, "Go! my guard shall take charge of him, but do you examine the justice or injustice of your complaints, and be careful to investigate whether they do not perhaps come from a polluted source. Then let me know the result of your reflections." At this Caiaphas turned his back upon Pilate and looked with indignation upon his followers, who showed the liveliest manifestations of disgust. Josue said, "Everything has been well considered and examined already. The law pronounces him worthy of death." The Jews, turning to go, angrily discussed this reverse. "This is a troublesome delay," said the rabbi. But Caiaphas encouraged them, saying, "Do not lose heart, victory belongs to the steadfast." Then was Jesus brought before Pilate's judgment seat, and Pilate said unto him, "Thou hast heard the complaint of the council against thee. Give me an answer thereto. Thou hast, they say, called thyself a Son of God. Whence art thou?" But Jesus made no answer. Then Pilate said unto him with some surprise, "Dost thou not speak even unto me? Knowest thou not that I have power to crucify thee and to release thee?" Then Jesus turned to him and said, "Thou couldst have no power at all against me except it were given unto thee from above. Therefore he that delivereth me unto thee hath the greater sin." "Frankly spoken," said Pilate, aside. Then, speaking to Jesus he said, "Art thou the king of the Jews?" Jesus answered, "Sayest thou this thing of thyself, or only because others have told it to thee?" Pilate answered, "Am I a Jew? Thine own nation and the chief priests have delivered thee unto me. They accuse thee that thou hast desired to be the king of Israel. What ground is there for this?" Then answered Jesus and said unto him, "My kingdom is not of this world. If my kingdom were of this world, then would my servants fight, so that I should not be delivered unto the hands of the Jews; but now is my kingdom not from hence." Then said Pilate, "Art thou a king then?" Jesus answered, "Thou sayest that I am a king. To this end was I born and for this cause came I into the world, that I might bear witness unto the truth. Everyone that is of the truth heareth my voice." When Pilate heard this he said, "What is truth?" Hardly had he asked this question when the servant Quintus entered hastily from the door behind. "Lord, thy servant Claudius is here; he has to bring thee a pressing message from thy wife." Pilate said, "Let him come in. Lead the man hence for a moment into the hall." The attendants having led Jesus out, Claudius entered. Pilate asked him, "What bringest thou from my dear spouse?" "My lord," said Claudius, "thy wife greeteth thee and prays thee from her heart, for thine own sake and for hers, that thou wouldst have nothing to do with this just man who has been accused before the judgment seat. She has suffered anguish and terror on his account last night, owing to a fearful dream." Pilate answered, "Go back and tell her that she need not disturb herself. I will have nothing to do with the proposals of the Jews, but do all that I can to save him." Saluting Pilate, the messenger departed. Pilate then said to his attendants, "Would that I had nothing to do with this business! What do you think, my friends, of the complaint of the Jewish priests?" Then said the courtier Mela, "It seems to me that they are only inspired by envy and jealousy. The most passionate hatred appears in their words and countenances." And the courtier Sylvius added, "The hypocrites pretend that they have the authority of Caesar at heart, whereas the matter concerns only their own authority, which they believe endangered by this famous teacher of the people." Pilate answered, "I agree with you. I cannot believe that this man entertains any criminal schemes in his mind. There is so much that is noble in his features and in his demeanor. His speech displays so noble a candor and such high natural gifts that he seemed much more to be a very wise man, perhaps only too wise for these gloomy fanatics to be able to bear the light of his countenance. And then the dream which troubled my wife on his account! If he were really of higher origin? No," said Pilate decidedly, arriving at a resolution, "I will not let myself be induced to comply with the wishes of the priests." Then he ordered his servants, saying, "Let the chief priests appear here again, and let the accused be led out again from the judgment hall." Then came Caiaphas, Annas and the chief priests, and the scribes and rulers of the people once more before Pilate to receive his decision. Then Pilate spoke unto them as follows: "Here you have your prisoner again; he is without guilt." Consternation and fury were displayed on the faces of all the Jews. Then Annas said, "We have Caesar's word that our law shall be upheld. How can he be without guilt who treads this very law beneath his feet?" Then cried all the council, saying, "He is worthy of death!" Caiaphas, who stood before the council, asked, "Is he not punishable by Caesar when he maliciously injures that which Caesar's will has guaranteed us?" Pilate said, "I have told you already, if he hath done anything against your law, then punish him according to your law, in so far as you are authorized so to do. I cannot pronounce the death sentence upon him, because I find nothing in him which according to the laws upon which I have to act is deserving of death." Then were the Jews vexed beyond measure and muttered among themselves in hot displeasure, but Caiaphas replied, "If any one proclaims himself as king, is he not a rebel? Does he not deserve the death punishment of high treason?" "If," said Pilate, "this man has called himself a king it seems to me that so ambiguous a word is not sufficient to condemn him. For it is openly taught among the Romans that every wise man is a king. But you have brought forward no facts to prove that he has usurped kingly authority." Then said Nathanael, "Is it not a sufficient fact that through him the whole people are stirred up; that he fills the whole of Judea with his teaching, beginning from Galilee, where he first attracted followers to himself, until here in Jerusalem?" Then asked Pilate in surprise, "Has he come out of Galilee?" Then cried they all, "Yes, he is a Galilean," and the rabbi added, "His home is in Nazareth, in the jurisdiction of King Herod." "If that be so, then am I relieved of the jurisdiction. Herod, King of Galilee, has come hither for the feast; he can now judge his own subject. Take him away and bring him unto his own king. He shall be conducted thither by my body guard." Then Pilate with his attendants left the judgment hall. Caiaphas exclaimed, "Off, then, to Herod! With Herod, who professeth the faith of our fathers, we shall find better protection for our holy law." Annas said, "And if a thousand hindrances were to oppose themselves, the criminal must meet with the deserved punishment." Then they cried to Christ, as they went off to the palace of Herod, "One hour sooner or later, what matters it? Thou must come to die, and this very day!" * * * * * * King Herod stood beside his throne, arrayed in scarlet robes, wearing a golden crown upon his head, and holding a golden scepter in his hand. On either side were his courtiers. He said unto them, "What! have they the famous man from Nazareth? And are they bringing him a prisoner here to me?" "Yes, my Lord," said Zabulon, "I saw him and recognized him at the first glance." Then said Herod, "I have for a long time desired to see this man, with whose wondrous works the whole land rings, to whom, as if by magic, people run in crowds. Can he be John, risen from the dead?" "Oh, no," said Naason, "John worked no miracles; whereas they relate deeds done by this man which in truth are wonderful if they are not exaggerated." "As I have," said Herod, "so unexpected an opportunity of seeing him, I am impatient to put his magic skill to the proof." "He will be very willing," said Manasses, "to oblige you in that respect in order to obtain your favor and protection." Then said Herod, who had seated himself, to Zabulon: "Tell the priesthood they may bring their prisoner in." "They are probably coming with complaints against this man," said Manasses, "as they are forsaken by all the people." Herod replied, "Let them do that before Pilate--here I have nothing to do--no judgment to pronounce." Manasses remarked: "Perhaps they have met with a refusal from the governor and are now siding another way." Herod replied, "I do not enter into their pious quarrels. I will see him for myself and test his alleged miraculous powers." Then came into the presence of Herod, Caiaphas, Annas, the rabbi, Nathanael and four priests, bringing Jesus with them led by the soldiers of Herod. Caiaphas bowed before King Herod, saying "Most mighty king," and all the priests cried, "Prosperity and blessing upon thee from the Almighty!" Then said Caiaphas, "A criminal is brought before thee here from the Sanhedrin, that thou mayest execute on him the judgment of the law." "The law," said Nathanael, "decrees his death;" and Annas added, "May it please the king to confirm the sentence of the synagogue." "But," said Herod, "how can I be a judge in a foreign territory? Go to your own governor; he will do justice." Then said Caiaphas. "Pilate sent him hither, because being a Galilean he is thy subject." "Then this man belongeth to my jurisdiction? Who is he?" The priests said, "Jesus of Nazareth." Caiaphas added, "Pilate himself said, 'Go to King Herod; let him pronounce sentence upon his own subject.'" "Did Pilate say that? Wonderful!" said Herod. And turning to his courtiers he remarked, "Pilate sends him to me! Allows me to act as judge in his own province!" A courtier replied, "It seems as if he wished to make approaches to thee again." Herod replied, "I will accept it as a proof of his friendly feeling." Then turning to Jesus Herod said, "I have heard very much of thee by common report and have longed to see the man that has created such a sensation in this country." "He is a deceiver," said the rabbi; "an enemy of the holy law." "I have heard," said Herod, taking no notice of the interruption, "that thou canst interpret all mysteries and achieve feats which set at defiance the laws of nature. Let us have an example of thy skill and mighty power; then we will honor thee like the people and believe in thee." "O king," said Zadok, "do not let him lead thee astray, for he is in league with Beelzebub." "That is all the same to me," said Herod. Then, addressing Jesus, he said, "I had last night a wonderful dream. If thou canst tell me what I have dreamed of I will esteem thee as a first-class reader of hearts." Herod paused, but Christ remained motionless and silent. "Thou canst not do so much as that," continued Herod, "but perhaps thou understandest how to explain the dream if I tell thee what it was. I dreamt I stood upon the battlements of my palace at Herodium and saw the sun go down. There stood suddenly a man who stretched out his hand and pointed to the setting sun and said, 'See there, there is Hesperia in thy bedchamber.' Hardly had he said this when his form melted into mist. I started and woke up. If thou desirest to be like Joseph when he stood before the King of Egypt interpret to thy king this dream." Christ remained silent, looking sadly at Herod. "Art thou not experienced in this branch of the business? Well, then, show some of thy famous magic art. Cause it suddenly to become dark in this hall, or raise thyself and depart from us without touching the ground, or convert the roll on which thy death sentence is written into a snake. Thou wilt not, or thou canst not? Any of these things ought to be easy to thee; they relate much more wondrous miracles of thine." Then turning to the courtiers Herod said, "He does not stir. Ah, I see well that what has made him so notorious was only idle tittle-tattle. He knows nothing and can do nothing." "It is easy," said Naason, "to make believe before the foolish mob; it is another thing to stand before a wise and powerful king." Then said Manasses to Jesus, "Why should you not display your wisdom here? Why should your power vanish before the eyes of the king, even as a soap bubble?" Then said Herod scornfully, "There is nothing remarkable about him. He is a conceited fellow whom the applause of the people hath made crazy. Let him go. It is not worth while making so much trouble on his account." "O, King," said Caiaphas, "do not trust this sly and crafty rogue. Indeed, he only makes himself out to be a fool in order to obtain a milder sentence from thee." Annas said, "If he be put away, then would the peace of the kingdom also stand in danger, for he has presumed to exalt himself to be king." "What!" said Herod, "to be a king! To be a king of fools, that is more credible. As such he deserves to receive homage, therefore will I give him as a present a king's mantle, and do formally install him as the king of all fools." Then cried the priests aloud, "Not this; he has deserved death." Caiaphas said, "O, King, protector of our holy law, remember thy duty to punish the transgressor as the law ordains." Then said Herod, "What have you really against him?" "He hath profaned the Sabbath," said the rabbi. Nathanael added, "He is a blasphemer." And all the priests cried, "And as such the law declares him worthy of death." Then said Ezekiel, "He has also spoken contemptuously of the Temple, which thy father so gloriously rebuilt; he has declared that he would rebuild a more beautiful one in three days." Then Herod laughed and said, "Now that proves indeed that he is a king of fools." Then said Jonas, "He has also spoken insultingly of thee. He has presumed to call thee, his lord and king, a fox." "Then he has attributed to me a quality which he cannot certainly claim himself," replied Herod. "Clothe him--wrapped in this splendid robe he will play his part well before the people." Then came in a servant bringing a white robe, which he put on the shoulders of Jesus, and after Jesus had been robed, Zabulon said to him, "Now for the first time thou wilt create a real sensation, thou great wonder-worker." The priests cried, "He must die!" Herod said, "No, I will not be guilty of the blood of so exalted a king; rather lead him forth before the people in this his proper apparel, that they may admire him to their heart's content." Then said the first soldier to Jesus, "Come, thou miraculous king, and allow us to accompany thee!" The second soldier said, "What good luck for me to walk by the side of so illustrious a lord!" And so saying, they led away Jesus, wearing the white robe which Herod had put on him. Then said Caiaphas, "Thou hast convinced thyself that his alleged great works were nothing but lies and deceit, whereby the people were defrauded by him. Give, then, thy sentence!" And all the priests cried, "Pronounce the sentence of death upon him, as the law demands!" Herod replied, "My opinion is, he is a simple fellow and not capable of the crime of which you accuse him. If he has perchance done or spoken anything against the law it is to be attributed to his simplicity." "O, King," said Caiaphas, "take care that thou dost not err!" "I fear," said Annas, "thou wilt repent if thou allowest him to escape punishment." "I fear nothing of the kind," said Herod. "A fool one must treat as a fool. He has already suffered by his follies and will avoid them in the future. With that the trial is at an end." Then said the rabbi, "Then it is all over with our law, our religion, Moses and the prophets!" Herod said, "I abide by my decision. I am weary and will not concern myself further about this affair. Pilate may decide according to his official duty. Offer to him duty and friendship from King Herod." Then went the priests out, sorely dissatisfied with the decision of the king. Then Herod rose from his seat and said, "This time the result has not corresponded to our expectations. I expected to find a great wonder-worker and eloquent orator, and behold, there is only quite an ordinary man with never a word to say for himself." "Ah," said Manasses, "how lying rumor exaggerates that which, when more closely examined, is shown to be nothing." "Friends," said Herod, "that is not John. John at least spoke, and spoke with wisdom, and an eloquence which one must esteem, but this one is as dumb as a fish. I am less than ever purposed to put him out of the way, now that I have seen him for myself. Pilate would not have sent him to me if he had been found guilty of any serious crime against the state. To revenge oneself on such a man would be the greatest folly. We have occupied ourselves about this wearisome business long enough. Let us now go and make up for lost time by seeking more agreeable amusement." CHAPTER VIII. "JESUS OR BARABBAS." See! what form of woe standeth the Saviour there! Even Pilate himself's touched with compassion now Foolish people and blinded, Have you no hearts to pity him? No, for seized with madness they cry, "To the cross with him!" Cry for torture and death upon the holiest. For Barabbas, the murderer, Pardon asking, and liberty. Oh, how otherwise once 'fore the Egyptian folk Joseph! Around him shouts echoed, and songs of joy As the Savior of Egypt He was solemnly shown to them. But round the world's deliverer rages a nation in wrath, Blinded, maddened with hate, no man among them will rest Till the judge all unwilling Says, "Then take ye and crucify him." * * * * * * Ah, see the king that's crowned in scorn, What monarch such a crown has worn Or scepter borne, and he so great? Ye see him decked with purple shreds, They laugh and jeer and shake their heads, Is this the royal robe of state? Ah! what a man! Where is the trace of deity? Ah! what a man-- The sport of the rude hangman he. Caiaphas and Annas and the chief priests and rulers, and the council and the traders of the temple, and the witnesses accompanied the soldiers, who once more led Jesus to Pilate's house. Then said Caiaphas, "Now Pilate must be challenged more imperiously; and if he does not do according to our will then shall the authority of Caesar extort the sentence from him." "Shall I now," said Annas, "in my gray old age see the synagogue overthrown? No! with stammering tongue I will cry for the blood and death of this criminal, and then descend to the bosom of my fathers, when I have seen this evil-doer die upon the cross." "We would sooner," cried the rabbi, speaking with great animation, "be buried in the ruins of the temple than to go back upon our resolution. We shall never leave off until he is dead." Then proclaimed Caiaphas, "Whosoever goes back on this decision, let him be cast out of the synagogue." And Annas added, "Let the cross of the fathers fall upon him." Then said Caiaphas, "Time presses, the day is advancing; now we must employ all the means at our disposal in order to carry out our will before the feast." At this time the Jews and the soldiers leading Jesus stood once more before the house of Pilate. Pilate, attended by his servants, soon appeared on the balcony. "We bring the prisoner once more before thee and earnestly desire his death," said Caiaphas. All the priests cried aloud, "We insist upon it, he must die." Then said Pilate, "Ye brought me this man as an agitator and see, I have heard your complaints, and I have myself examined him, and have not found anything in him touching those things whereof you accuse him." Then said Caiaphas angrily, "We abide by our accusation; he is a criminal worthy of death." And the priests cried, clamorously, "He is an offender against our law and against Caesar." Then said Pilate, "I have sent him because he is a Galilean to Herod. Have you brought forward your complaints before him?" "Yes," said Caiaphas, "but Herod would not judge the case because thou art in authority here." Then said Pilate, "He, too, has found nothing in the man that deserves death, but in order to meet your desire I will have this man scourged and let him go." But Annas said, "That sufficeth not," and Caiaphas said, "The law prescribes for such a criminal not the punishment of scourging, but the punishment of death." The priests cried again, "To death with him." Then Pilate, hearing the clamor of the Jews and seeing how bitter they were against Jesus, said unto them, "Is your hate so deep and bitter unto the man that it cannot be satisfied by the blood from his wounds? You compel me to tell you frankly what I think. Driven by ignoble passion ye persecute him because the people are more devoted to him than they are to you. I have heard enough of your hateful accusations. I will now hear the voice of the people. An innumerable number will now assemble here in order to demand, according to old custom, the release of one prisoner at the Passover festival. Then it will be seen whether your complaint is the outcome of popular sentiment or only of your personal revenge." Caiaphas, smiling to himself, bowed low before Pilate and said, "The result will show, O governor, that thou thinkest evil of us unjustly." Then the priests cried, "It is not vengeance, but zeal for the holy law of God which compels us to demand his death." Pilate said, "You know of the murderer, Barabbas, who lies in chains, and of his evil deeds. Between him and Jesus of Nazareth I will let the people choose. The one whom they ask for, him will I release." Then cried all with one voice, "Release Barabbas and to the cross with the other." "You are not the people," said Pilate haughtily, "the people will speak for themselves. Meanwhile I will have this one scourged." Then speaking to his servants, he said, "The soldiers will lead him hence and scourge him according to the Roman law." Then turning to his courtiers, he said, "Whatever he has done amiss will be sufficiently atoned for and perhaps the spectacle of the scourging may soften the blind wrath of his enemies." When Pilate quitted the balcony and entered his house Caiaphas addressed a stirring speech to the Jews. His opportunity had come. "Pilate," said Caiaphas, "appeals to the voice of the people. All right; we appeal to it also. Now," said he, turning to the traders and witnesses, "now, true-hearted Israelites, your opportunity has arrived. Go hence into the streets of Jerusalem, summon your friends to come hither, unite them in masses, kindle in them the most glowing hatred against the enemy of Moses. The waverers seek to win by the strength of your words and by promises, but terrify the followers of the Galilean by an overwhelming outcry against them, by insult and mockery, by threats, and if necessary by ill-treatment, so that none of them may dare to let himself be seen here, much less to open his mouth." Then cried the traders and witnesses together, "We will go hence and soon return again, everyone at the head of an excited mob." Caiaphas said, "Let us all meet in the street of the Sanhedrin." The traders bowed, and as they went the priests cried after them, "Hail to you, faithful disciples of Moses." Then said Caiaphas, "Let us not lose a single moment. Let us go together to the crowds to encourage them, to inflame them." Annas added, "From all the streets of Jerusalem will we lead the exasperated people before the judgment seat." The rabbi said complacently, "If Pilate wishes to hear the voice of the people, let him hear it!" "Let him hear," said Caiaphas, "the unanimous cry of the nation; release Barabbas; the Galilean to the cross!" Then all the Jews cried aloud, with an exceeding loud voice, "Release Barabbas; the Galilean to the cross!" Then the soldiers led Jesus away to the Pretorium and took off his robe and tied his hands to a low pillar and scourged him. When they were weary with scourging they said, "He has had enough, he is all running down with blood." "Thou pitiable king of the Jews," said one of the soldiers as they knelt and mockingly did homage to him, "what kind of a king can this be? He has no scepter in his hand, no crown upon his head. That can be mended. I will at once bring the insignia of the Jewish sovereignty." And then going out he brought a scarlet mantle, a crown of thorns and a reed. They were laid upon a cushion, and together with them were laid iron gloves, so that they might handle the crown of thorns without suffering therefrom. "Here," cried they, "this is certainly the most lovely attire for a king of the Jews. Is it not true that thou hast never expected such an honor? Come, let us hang this purple robe about thee. But sit down, a king should not stand. Here is a beautiful pointed crown." And a soldier, taking the crown of thorns with the iron gloves, placed it upon the head of Jesus. "Let us look at you." Then they laughed aloud for joy. "But," said one, "if it is not to fall off your head then must we set it in firmly. Come, brothers, help me." Then four of the soldiers seized in their hands two staves, and, crossing them over his head, pressed the crown heavily down upon the brow of Jesus. Jesus shuddered in agony. "Here," cried the soldiers, "is the scepter." And taking the reed they placed it in his hands. "Now nothing more is wanted. What a king!" Then all knelt before him crying, "Hail to thee, most mighty king of the Jews!" When they were mocking him a servant entered from Pilate, saying that the prisoner mast be brought immediately into the judgment hall. Then said the soldiers, "Thou comest at the wrong time. Thou hast disturbed us in the middle of our demonstrations of reverence." Then they said to Jesus, "Stand up, we will lead thee about as a spectacle. There will be rejoicing among the Jewish people when their king appears before them in full splendor!" * * * * * * Then was Jerusalem in an uproar; the traders and the priests ran everywhere hither and thither, stirring up the people against Jesus. On all sides the crowds were mustered, and directed by the priests to assemble in the streets of the Sanhedrin, and from this to proceed to Pilate's house to demand the release of Barabbas and the crucifixion of Jesus; from four sides the tumultuous mobs came pouring down to the place of assembly. Their hoarse cries of "To the cross with him! To the cross with him!" were heard in the distance before the foremost leaders came in sight. At the head of one mob came Nathanael, fervently exhorting the multitude to demand the death of Jesus. "Moses, your prophet," said he, "calls upon you. His holy law demands you should avenge it." And the multitude cried together, "We belong to Moses. We are and remain followers of Moses and of his teaching. We hold fast by our priests and teachers. Away with him who would rise against them." Another multitude poured down from the right into the central thoroughfare. Caiaphas was leading them proudly, exulting in the manifestations of their zeal. Into the same central place came a third band led by Annas, whose followers shouted aloud, "Ye are our fathers, and we will answer for your honor!" Annas answered, "Come, children, throw yourselves into the arms of the holy Sanhedrin. It will save you." While the clamorous multitudes from these three quarters were pouring down confusedly into the main street, the shouting of a fourth mob was heard down Pilate's street. Ezekiel marched at the head of this new company crying, "Shake it off; the yoke of the deceiver!" and they cried in answer, "We will have nothing more to do with him; we follow you!" As the four contingents of the populace collected thus in the open space it could be seen how successfully they had been organized. Each of the four divisions was led by a ruler of the people and had in its ranks a number of the traders of the temple, the witnesses and the priests, whose violent zeal gave movement and direction to the whole crowd. Various cries burst forth from the multitude and each section as it saw the strength of the others exulted and greeted their leaders with shouts of joy. "The whole people applauds you!" cried one part of the multitude. "We will be free from that false teacher, the Nazarene!" answered another section of the crowd. Then Caiaphas, Annas, Nathanael and Ezekiel, meeting together, cried with a loud voice, "Your fathers' God will receive you again! You are again to him a holy people!" The crowd now massed together in the main street cried, "You are our true friends. Long live the great Sanhedrin! Long live our teachers and priests!" and Annas answered, "Death to the Galilean!" "Up," said Caiaphas, "let us now hasten to Pilate," and Nathanael and Ezekiel added, "Let us demand his death, his blood." Then all the people answered, "On to Pilate; the Nazarene shall die!" As they came tripping forward their leaders addressed them from time to time to incite their zeal. "He hath falsified the law," cried the leaders. "He has contemned Moses and the prophets!" "He hath blasphemed God!" Then all the people cried again, "To death with the false prophet!" The section led by Ezekiel shouted, "Death by the cross!" and the other sections took it up, "Pilate must let him be crucified!" Then said the leaders, "On the cross he shall atone for his crimes!" "We will not rest," cried the crowd, "until his sentence is pronounced." The whole multitude was now moving rapidly toward the judgment seat of Pilate. Caiaphas, who lorded it over the whole assemblage with look and gesture, thus addressed them, "Hail to you, children of Israel! You are indeed still true descendants of your father Abraham! Oh, rejoice that you have escaped the nameless destruction which this deceiver would bring upon you and your children!" "Only," said Annas, "by the untiring efforts of your fathers has this nation escaped the abyss." Then cried the people, "Long live the council! Death to the Nazarene!" and the priests and Pharisees cried out, "Curse him who does not vote for his death!" The people responded, "We demand his death!" Then for some time there was nothing heard but a confused clamor, but the voice of Caiaphas rang out notwithstanding, while the people responded to his appeals. It sounded from afar in this wise: Caiaphas: "Let him be cast out from the heritage of our fathers," and all the people cried, "Let him be cast out." Caiaphas said, "The governor will give you the choice between this blasphemer and Barabbas. Let us insist upon the release of Barabbas." Then the people cried, "Let Barabbas go free, and down with the Nazarene." Then said Annas, "Let the fathers be praised who have heard our wishes." Then all cried out, "Pilate must consent, the whole nation demands it of him." Caiaphas walked backward and forward with excited mien, but proud and triumphant step, and said, "Oh, most glorious day of the people of Israel. Children, be steadfast!" The priests and Pharisees: "This day brings back honor to the synagogue and freedom to the people." "Now," said Caiaphas, as they approached the house of Pilate, "let us demand the sentence with uproar and threaten him with universal revolt!" Then cried the whole multitude tumultuously, "We demand the blood of our enemy!" So loud was the cry, so savage the emphasis, that two servants of Pilate started out of the house and looking down on the turbulent throng cried out, "Uproar! Insurrection!" And the people answered, "The Nazarene shall die!" Caiaphas, hastening hither and thither in the crowd to excite them to still further violence, said, "Show courage. Stand out undismayed. A righteous cause defends us." Then the people called out clamorously; "Pilate--pronounce the sentence of death!" Pilate's servant from the balcony said, "Silence! be quiet!" but the crowd shouted at him louder than before, "No, we will not be quiet until Pilate consents." Then said the servant, "Pilate will come out immediately." Then cried all once more, "We demand the death of the Nazarene." And Caiaphas, listening to the shouts of the people, said to the priests, "Now let Pilate, as he wished, learn the opinion of the people." Then came Pilate with his followers out upon the balcony, and with them came Jesus, led by two soldiers, with the crown of thorns upon his head and the scarlet robe about him. The crowd instead of shouting, "Hail, all hail," as before, shouted violently, "Give judgment! Pass sentence upon him!" Then Pilate spoke, pointing to Jesus, who, with bound hands and the scarlet robe upon his bleeding shoulders, stood between the soldiers, "Behold the man!" The priests and Pharisees answered, "To the cross with him." Pilate pleaded, "Cannot even this pitiful sight awake any compassion in your hearts?" But the multitude answered, "Let him die! To the cross with him!" Then Pilate said, "Take him and crucify him at your own risk--I will have nothing to do with it, for I find no fault in him." Then Caiaphas said with a loud voice, "Hear, O governor, the voice of the people. It concurs in our complaint and demands his death." "Yes," shouted the crowd again, "we demand his death." Then said Pilate to his soldiers, "Lead him down and let Barabbas be brought out of prison. The jailer must at once deliver him up to the chief lictor." When Annas heard Pilate's commands he cried, "Let Barabbas live. Pronounce the death sentence on the Nazarene!" Then the people cried, "To death with the Nazarene!" Then said Pilate, "I do not understand this, people. Only a few days ago with rejoicing and joyful clamor you accompanied this man through the streets of Jerusalem. Is it possible that the same people this day call for death and destruction upon him? That is indeed contemptible fickleness." "The good people," said Caiaphas, "have at last learned that they have been deceived by an adventurer who pretended to be the Messiah, the king of Israel!" "And now," said Nathanael, "the eyes of this people are fully opened, and they see that he cannot help himself--he who promised to bring freedom and blessing to the nation." "Israel," said Ezekiel, "will recognize no Messiah who allows himself to be taken and bound and treated with scorn." "Let him die, the false Messiah, the deceiver," cried the crowd. Then Pilate spoke unto the people and said: "Men of Judea, it is customary that I liberate to you a prisoner at the feast. Look upon these two. One with mild countenance and dignified demeanor, the ideal of a wise teacher, whom you have long honored as such, convicted of no single evil deed and already humiliated by the severest chastisement. The other, a vicious, savage man, convicted of robbery and murder, a horrible image of a perfect scoundrel. I appeal to your reason, to your human feelings--choose! Which will ye that I shall release unto you, Barabbas or Jesus, who is called the Christ?" Then the priests and people cried out together, "Let Barabbas go free." "Will ye not that I release unto you the king of the Jews?" asked Pilate. Then the priests and people cried, "Away with him, release unto us, Barabbas." Then said Caiaphas, "Thou hast promised to release him whom the people demand." Pilate answered shortly to Caiaphas, "I am accustomed to keep my promise without needing a reminder." Then said he to the people, "What shall I do with the king of the Jews?" And the priests and the people cried, "Crucify him!" "What," said Pilate, "shall I crucify your king?" And the people cried, "We have no king but Caesar." Pilate said, "I cannot condemn this man, for I find no fault in him. He has been sufficiently chastised; I will let him go free." Then said the priests, "If thou let him go free thou art no friend of Caesar's." Caiaphas added, "He has proclaimed himself king"; and the priests said, "Who proclaims himself king is a rebel against Caesar." And Nathanael said, "And is this rebel still to remain unpunished, still to scatter abroad the seed of revolt?" Then cried the people, "It is the duty of the governor to put him out of the way." Caiaphas seeing that Pilate answered not, pressed more vehemently upon him, saying, "We have done our duty as subjects of Caesar and delivered this rebel to thee. If thou payest no attention to our accusation and the desire of the people, then are we free from guilt. Thou alone, O Governor, art responsible to Caesar for the consequences." And Annas said, "If on account of this man universal disorder and revolt ensues, then we know who must bear this guilt, and," he added significantly, "Caesar shall know it also." Then cried the people again, "The matter must be brought before Caesar." Then Ezekiel said to Pilate, "They will be astonished when they hear at Rome that Caesar's viceroy has taken under his protection a traitor whose death the whole people desired." And the crowd cried, "Thou must execute him, or otherwise there would be no peace in the land." Then said Pilate, "Why, what evil hath he done? I cannot, I dare not, condemn the innocent to death." Then said Caiaphas, "Permit me to ask one question. Why shouldst thou judge this man so carefully when quite recently thou hast allowed thy soldiers to massacre hundreds without judgment or sentence, merely on account of some rebellious outcries?" As Pilate heard the question of Caiaphas he was dismayed, and the crowd shouted: "Thou canst not show favor to this man; if thou wilt be a faithful servant to Caesar." Then Pilate's resolution forsook him, and turning to his servants he said, "Bring water." Caiaphas said unto him, "The people will not go away from this place until thou hast pronounced sentence of death upon the enemy of Caesar." "Yes," cried the multitude, "we will not go from this place until sentence is pronounced." Then said Pilate sorrowfully, "Your violence compels me to yield to your desire. Take him hence and crucify him. But see," said he as he washed his hands in the basin which had been brought at his command. "I wash my hands; I am innocent of the blood of this just man. See ye to it." Then arose from the excited multitude a great and awful cry, in which priests and people joined, speaking as with one voice, "We take it upon ourselves! His blood be upon us and upon our children!" Then said Pilate, "Let Barabbas be set free at the demand of the people. Lead him outside the city gate and let him never tread this ground again." The soldiers then led Barabbas away. The priests and people cried: "Now hast thou justly judged." Pilate said unto them, "I have given way to your violent demands in order to avoid a great evil. But in the blood-guiltiness I will have no share. Let it fall upon you and your children as you have so loudly cried." Then again the priests and people cried, "It is good; let it fall upon us and upon our children." Annas said, "We and our children will bless this day and with thankful joy cry, 'Health and wealth to the governor!'" "Long live our governor," cried the crowd. "Long live Pontius Pilate!" Then said Pilate, "Bring hither the two murderers who are kept in gaol. Let the chief lictor give them over without delay to the guard. They have deserved death much more than the accused." But the priests and people cried, "He has deserved death more than any." Pilate said, "The sentence of death must be written out and will be read publicly before all the people." The scribe began to write, and as he wrote, from the street were heard the voices of the soldiers who were bringing the thieves, driving them forward: "Will you not move on, you wretches? Have you not long ago deserved your fate? Thrust them on, these outcasts of mankind." When the thieves driven by the soldiers came to the foot of the balcony they were halted on the other side of the steps to that where Jesus stood. Then said the rabbi, pointing to the thieves, "That is worthy company for the false Messiah on his last journey." Pilate said to the thieves, "Of you and your misdeeds the earth shall today be free. You shall die upon the cross. Let the sentence of death be now read." Then the scribe stood forward and read thus: "I, Pontius Pilate, viceroy in Judea of the mighty Caesar Claudius Tiberius, pronounce at the desire of the high priests and the Sanhedrin and the people of the Jews, the sentence of death upon a certain Jesus of Nazareth, who is accused of having stirred up the people to revolt, of having forbidden to pay tribute to Caesar, and of having proclaimed himself king of the Jews. The same shall be crucified outside the city between two malefactors who have been likewise condemned to death for many robberies and murders, and be brought from life to death. Given at Jerusalem on the eve of the Passover." When the scribe had read the sentence Pilate broke a staff, flung it among the people, saying in tones of great bitterness, "Now take him hence and crucify him!" and went rapidly into the house, leaving Jesus in the hands of the Jews. "Triumph!" cried Caiaphas in wild exultation. "The victory is ours! The enemy of the synagogue is destroyed!" The priests and people shouted, "Away with him to Golgotha! Long live the synagogue! Long live the nation!" Then said Annas, "Hasten, that we may come home in time to eat the Passover." The priests and Pharisees said, "We will keep this Passover with joy, as did our fathers in Egypt." "Now," said Caiaphas, "let our triumphal procession go through the midst of Jerusalem." "Where," asked the rabbi, "are his disciples? They are invited to cry Hosanna!" Then rushed the multitude away, crying, "Up and away off to Golgotha! Come and see him perish on the cross! O delightful day, the enemy of Moses is overthrown! Ha! now he has his reward! So be it done to everyone who despises the law! He deserves the death on the cross! O happy Passover! Now joy will return to Israel! There is an end of the Galilean!" And so crying, with wild and savage clamor, they swept back to the street of the Sanhedrin. [Transcriber's note: A line seems to be missing from the book at this point. All that appears is a blank line followed by the single word:] "me?" CHAPTER IX. THE CRUCIFIXION. Ye pious souls rise up and go, With grateful penitence aglow With me to Golgotha, and see What shall be done your souls to free See how the Mediator dies The atoning death of sacrifice. O, who can know the love that lives In this heart now laid bare, That kindness back for hatred gives And saves us from despair? Offer this love of His Your heart's best impulses, His cross before, For evermore. Thus they took Jesus and led him away, and a great multitude followed him. And when Jesus, bearing the cross, with the thieves also bearing their cross, was entering the street of Annas, Mary, the mother of Jesus, with Mary Magdalene and John and Joseph of Arimathea, came down the street by Pilate's house. And Mary said to John, "O beloved disciple, how will it have gone with Jesus since thou didst last see him in the house of Caiaphas?" Then answered John, "If the priests could do as they wish, then sure enough he would be already among the dead. But they could not carry out the sentence without permission of the governor. But Pilate, I hope, will not condemn him, as he has never done anything bad, but only what is good." Then prayed Mary Magdalene, "O Almighty God, incline the ruler's heart to justice, that he may protect the innocent against the wiles of the wicked." Then said Mary, the mother of Jesus, "Whither shall we go, O friends, oh, whither, that I may but once more see my beloved son? I must see him, but where can I find him? Perhaps, O perhaps, he lies buried in the deepest dungeon." Mary Magdalene said, "Alas! the most loving of teachers in prison!" Joseph answered, "There is one to be seen from whom we can inquire." John said, "The best thing will be to go to Nicodemus; he surely knows what is happening to our dear Master." "Yes, let us go," said Mary. "Every moment increases my grief in this uncertainty about the fate of my son." "Be strong in faith, dear mother," said John. "Whatever happens it is God's will." Suddenly a horrible noise of confused voices and tramping feet was heard in the distance. From the tumult could be heard the words: "On, on with him!" Mary started and they all stood listening while the noise came nearer and nearer. "What terrible noise is that?" said Joseph. Then stood they all still listening to hear what it might signify. Salome said, "As if of a thousand voices. What can it be?" As they listened the procession to Golgotha was already half way down the street of Annas. In front marched the centurion holding in one hand the staff of authority, followed by Jesus, staggering painfully under the burden of his cross. Around Jesus stood four executioners who brutally goaded him forward. Behind Jesus came the thieves, each bearing his own cross. Behind them came soldiers carrying spears, in the midst of whom on a white horse rode a horseman carrying the Roman banner on which were the letters S. P. Q. R. By the side of the soldiery walked Annas and Caiaphas followed by all the council of the Sanhedrin. All around crowded a numerous multitude, whose shouts were heard almost without intermission. "Let him die!" they cried, "and all who hold with him." Jesus, who had already fallen under the cross, walked slowly and with difficulty. One of the executioners said unto him, "Is the burden already too heavy?" and the people shouted, "Drive him with violence, that we may get to Golgotha." The second executioner cried, "Take care, or he will be down." The progress was so slow that not even the head of the procession could be seen from where the two Marys and John were standing, wondering what the noise might mean. Joseph said, "What shall we do? In this commotion we cannot venture into the city." But Mary said, "What may this noise signify? Surely it does not concern my son." As the noise waxed ever louder, Joseph said, "It seems as if an insurrection had broken out." Then said John, "We had better stop here till the storm passes over." While they stood waiting and wondering Simon of Cyrene came hastily into the street that lay between those of Pilate and Annas. He carried a basket, and looking anxiously around him, said, "I must hasten in order to get into the city. The eve of the feast is coming, and I have only a short time left in which to make my purchases and get everything ready, so that I may get home in time." Hardly had he said this than he heard the sound of a great outcry, and amidst which he could only distinguish the words, "Let him not rest! Urge him on with blows!" Said Simon, "I hear a tumult--an outcry of a crowd--what has happened in the city? I will keep quiet a little--perhaps my ears have deceived me." Jesus had fallen faint and had staggered against the house of Ahasverus and was there endeavoring to support himself. The third executioner said to him roughly, "It is no use thy fainting. Thou must keep on to Golgotha." Then Ahasverus came out of his house and said, "Be off from my house; here is no place for resting." Simon, who was listening without being able to see the cause of the commotion, said, "The noise waxes louder. I must hasten to see what it is. What comes there? Ah, I cannot get in here. I will wait and see what happens." Then, as the procession turned the corner of Annas' street, Joseph of Arimathea, listening, said, "I think the crowd is coming out of the city gates," and John, seeing the cross said, "It appears that someone is being led out to Golgotha for execution." Mary, the mother of Jesus, saw him and cried out with a piercing wail, "It is he. Oh God! it is my son." Jesus meanwhile staggered under the cross, but was forced forward by the executioners grumbling as they did so, "He will drop on the road." [Illustration: "Jesus staggered under the cross."] The centurion, seeing that Jesus from sheer exhaustion had again fallen, reached him a bottle, saying, "Here, strengthen thyself." Jesus took it, but did not drink of it. Mary cried, weeping, "Ah, there, I see him led to death even as a malefactor!" Then said John, as he tenderly supported her, "Mother, it is the hour of which he has told us before. Such is the will of the Father." Then said the centurion to Jesus, "Wilt thou not drink? Then you must go on!" Then one of the executioners shook him, saying, "Rouse thyself, lazy king of the Jews!" Another of the executioners said, "Forward! Pull thyself together!" The third said, "Do not act thus weakly; we must get on." Then Mary cried as she looked on the scene, "Oh where is any sorrow like unto my sorrow?" The third executioner, seeing that all the efforts to compel Jesus to move forward had failed, said, "He is too much exhausted; someone must help him, otherwise--" Then the rabbi, seeing Simon of Cyrene, pointed him out, saying, "Here, this stranger--" The Pharisees said, "Just seize him!" Then said the centurion, "Come hither, thou hast broad shoulders that can carry something." Simon, protesting, said, "I must--" "Truly you must," said one of the executioners, "otherwise there will be blows." Simon began again, "I do not know," but the centurion interrupted him, saying, "You will find out soon enough--do not refuse." "Flog him if he refuses to go!" said the Pharisee. Simon struggled crying, "Indeed I am innocent; I have committed no crime." "Silence!" said the centurion. Simon replied, "Only not by force like this," and then beholding Christ he said, "What is this I see? This is the holy man from Nazareth." "Place thy shoulders here," said an executioner. Then said Simon, "For the love of thee I will carry it. O, could I thereby make myself useful to thee." Christ, who stood exhausted on one side, looked upon Simon and said, "God's blessing be upon thee and thine!" "Now, forward," said the centurion; "follow thou with the beam of the cross!" The first priest advancing, said, "Thou canst come quickly enough now." The third executioner, seeing that Jesus still stood unable to move, seized him by the neck and shook him saying, "See with what consideration we treat thee; even the cross has been taken from thee." "Dost thou need anything else?" said another of the men. "Let him be," said the centurion. "We will now halt a little that he may recover before we ascend the hill." While the procession halted Veronica and the women of Jerusalem approached. Caiaphas meanwhile, chafing with vexation at the delay, exclaimed, "What! Still another stoppage! When shall we come to Calvary?" Veronica, coming up to Christ, kneeled before him, and offering him her handkerchief, said, "O Lord, how is thy face covered with blood and sweat. Wilt thou not wipe it off?" Jesus took the handkerchief and wiped his face and gave it back to her, saying, "Compassionate soul, the Father will reward thee for this." Then spoke the women of Jerusalem, who drew near to the Lord with their little ones, "Thou good teacher; never to be forgotten benefactor; noblest friend of men, thus art thou rewarded. How we pity thee!" Then they wept. Christ looking upon them in their tears said: "Daughters of Jerusalem, weep not for me, but for yourselves and your children. For behold the days are coming in which they shall say 'Blessed are the barren and the wombs that never bare, and the paps that never gave suck.' Then shall they call to the mountains, fall on us and to the hills, cover us. For if they do these things in the green tree, what will be done in the dry?" The women answered, "Alas, how will it be in the future for us and our children?" By this time the patience of the centurion was exhausted, and he cried out, "Clear out now, these womenfolk." The third executioner, pushing them roughly away, said, "What use are your women's tears? Back!" While the other executioners cried as they pushed Jesus forward, "On with thee to the hill of death!" The crowd took up the cry and said, "Quick; forward to Calvary!" "Are we really going forward again?" said the rabbi, and Nathanael said, shrugging his shoulders, "The centurion is far too mild." "Do not spare him so much," said a priest. The long procession was once more in motion when there appeared a servant from Pilate. The man cried, "Halt!" and the procession stopped. "By command of the governor the centurion must appear before him as quickly as possible and receive further orders." Caiaphas exclaimed, "What does this mean? What new orders are required? The death sentence is pronounced and must be carried out without delay." Then said the centurion bluntly, "No, this will not happen until I have received the further orders of my lord." Then turning to the soldiers he said, "Keep watch meanwhile and go with the condemned to Golgotha. Then dismiss this man (Simon) and await my arrival." The centurion then went with the servant to Pilate and the procession set forth again. The people cried wildly, "Up to Golgotha, to the cross with him. Hail to Israel. The enemy is vanquished. We are free. Long live the Sanhedrin." Jesus looked upon his mother as the procession passed the corner of Annas' street, but spoke not. Then said John, when the dolorous procession had passed, "Mother, shall we not go back to Bethany? Thou wilt not be able to bear the sight?" But Mary answered, "How can a mother leave her child in the last and bitterest need?" Cleophas objected, "But evil might befall thee, if they recognized thee as his mother." Mary replied, "I will suffer with him, bear scorn and shame with him; die with him." "Only," said John, "if the strength of thy body does not give way." "Fear not," said Mary. "I have asked strength of God and he has heard me. Let us go after them." All answered, "Best of mothers, we follow thee," and they slowly followed the procession to Calvary. * * * * * * And when they reached Golgotha, which is by interpretation the place of a skull, they crucified him there. But first they hanged the two thieves on the crosses, the one on the left, the other on the right. Their arms were tied over the cross at the wrists, and their feet were tied with cord to the beam. But Jesus was nailed to the central cross while it yet lay with the head slightly raised upon the ground. One nail was driven through the palms of each hand, and one through the two feet, which were placed the one above the other. Jesus lay silent without moving. On his head was the crown of thorns, from which a little blood trickled over his brow. His hands and his feet bled a little, but the rest of his body was pale and colorless, a light cloth only being cast around his loins. The centurion who had returned from Pilate, stood on the right of the cross giving orders. The lictor, mounted on a white horse, stood near the soldiers, who held on high the Roman standard with the letters S. P. Q. R. Caiaphas, Annas and all the members of the Sanhedrin stood on the left exulting. A great crowd of sightseers thronged the place. Among them, coming from behind the centurion, were the holy women from Bethany, with Mary, the mother of Jesus, and John, and Joseph of Arimathea and Nicodemus. Then said the executioners to the centurion, "We have finished with these," pointing to the thieves, "Now must the king of Jews be exalted upon his throne." Which, hearing, the priests cried angrily, "Not king! Deceiver, traitor!" The centurion, who held in his hand a scroll or escutcheon, said, "First, by command of the governor, this writing must be fastened to the cross. Faustus," he added, turning to one of the hangmen named Faustus, "make fast this title over the cross." Faustus took the scroll from the centurion, and going to the cross, nailed it with one hammer stroke over the head of Jesus, saying, "Ah, an escutcheon displayed; this is right royal!" When this was done according to the command of the governor, the centurion said to the executioners, "Now, up with the cross! Not carelessly, but lay hold firmly." Then two hangmen, taking the cross by the arms, lifted it up so that its foot fell into the hole prepared for it. But as the cross bearing the body of Jesus was heavy, the third hangman placed his back under it near to the feet of Jesus, saying, "Come, now, all together," and so helping raised it on high. The fourth then filled in the hole at the foot saying when he finished, "All right, the cross stands firm." Then said the centurion, addressing the chief priests, "The execution is accomplished." "Quite admirably so," said Caiaphas with a radiant face. "Thanks and applause from us all!" "Yea, thanks, and applause from us all," echoed the Pharisees, looking up at the cross. Caiaphas then declared, "This shall be a feast day forever." And the Pharisees said, "Yes, for all time to come it shall be kept every year with grateful jubilation." "And now," said the aged Annas, "now gladly will I go down to my fathers since I have lived to have the joy of seeing this wretch on the cross." And as he gazed long as if exultingly drinking in the pleasure of satisfied vengeance, he saw for the first time the writing on the cross, but his old eyes could not decipher the words. Turning to Caiaphas he said, "The superscription seems to be very short." Then the Jews drew nearer to see what was written. The hangmen seated themselves on the ground at the foot of the cross and looked up at Jesus. Then the rabbi, reading the words written by Pilate exclaimed, "That is an insult, an outrage upon the people and the Sanhedrin!" Caiaphas, hearing him, asked, "What is written?" Annas, who had also looked at the inscription, said, "The rabbi is right. The Sanhedrin cannot allow this to pass." Then said the rabbi, "It is written, 'Jesus of Nazareth, king of the Jews!'" Caiaphas as if incredulous, approached the cross and reading it himself, started back with indignation. "Verily," he cried, "that is an affront upon the honor of our nation." "Down with it at once," cried the priest. But Caiaphas said, "We dare not touch it ourselves, but do you two," addressing the rabbi and Saras, "hasten at once to the governor to demand from him, in the name of the Sanhedrin and the assembled people that the superscription shall be altered. Say to him, 'Write not the king of the Jews, but that he said, I am king of the Jews?'" "We are off at once," said the rabbi and Saras. "Stay," said Caiaphas, "also request from the governor that he may order the bones of the crucified to be broken and their bodies taken down from the cross before the eve of the Passover." When the rabbi and Saras departed on their mission, the hangmen, who had been sitting at the foot of the cross, bethought themselves, and the first, who was named Agrippa, standing up, said, "Now, comrades, let us divide our share." Taking the mantle of Jesus, they seized each one corner, and then pulling all together, rent it into four parts. The coat remained. Agrippa held it up, "The mantle has made just four pieces; shall we rip up the coat also? See, it is without seam." "No," said Faustus, who had fastened the superscription over the head of Jesus, "it would be better to cast lots for it." "Look," said Agrippa, as he went to the foot of the cross and took up the basket, "see, here are dice." Then the four hangmen, standing at the feet of Jesus threw the dice, Agrippa threw them first, saying, "I will try my luck first. Alas, that is too little," he added, as he counted up the result of his throw, "I have lost." Catiline, the third hangman, as he rattled the dice in his hand, looked up at Jesus and said, "Hi! you up there, if you can still work miracles on the cross, give me good luck." The others shrugged their shoulders and said, "What does he care about us?" Catiline's throw was not high. Then Nero said, "I ought to have had better luck," and throwing the dice he counted fifteen. "Nearly enough; now, Faustus, it is your turn." Faustus threw the dice, saying, "I ought to get it." They all bent over to see the result. "Eighteen!" cried Catiline; "that is the best yet." Then said Agrippa, "Take it," handing him the mantle, "it is thine; take it away." And Nero consoled himself by saying, "You are not to be envied." Faustus gathered up the coat, and folding it up put it away. By this time the rabbi and Saras returned from Pilate, and coming back to Caiaphas they said, "Our mission was in vain. The governor would not listen to us." Caiaphas indignantly asked, while the priests and Pharisees crowded around, "Did he give you no answer at all?" "This only," said the rabbi. "What I have written I have written." "Intolerable," said Annas. Caiaphas also was much perturbed. But collecting himself he asked, "What did he order about the breaking of the bones?" "About this matter he said he would give his orders to the centurion," answered the rabbi. Then seeing that no more could be done, the Jews began to revile Jesus, going up to the cross and wagging their heads and scoffing at him. Josue, the priest, went up first and said, "So then it remains written, king of the Jews. Behold, if thou art king of Israel, come down now from the cross, that we may see and believe." And all the Jews laughed together. Then said Eliezer, "Thou that destroyest the temple and buildest it again in three days, save thyself!" And Caiaphas said, "Ha! thou that savest others, thyself thou canst not save." "Come down," cried one of the witnesses, "Art thou not the Son of God?" And Annas said, "He trusted in God; let him deliver him now if he will have him." Then cried the hangmen, "What! Don't you hear? Show thy power, mighty king of the Jews," and so the sport went on. Then Jesus, who all this time had hung motionless and silent, raised slowly and with pain, his head, which had been bowed down, and said, "Father, forgive them, they know not what they do!" Hearing Jesus speak, the thief who was crucified on his left said unto him, "Hearest thou? If thou be Christ save thyself and us." But the other thief who was crucified on the right, answered and said, "Dost thou not fear God, seeing that thou art in the same condemnation? And we indeed justly; for we receive the due reward of our deeds; but this man hath done nothing amiss." Then turning to Jesus he said, "Lord remember me when thou comest into thy kingdom?" Then Jesus looked upon him and said, "Verily, I say unto thee, today shalt thou be with me in Paradise." "Listen to that," said Caiaphas scornfully, "he speaks as if he had power over the gates of Paradise." "What," said the rabbi. "Have not his pride and presumption deserted him even as he hangs helpless on the cross?" And they were wroth with Jesus. During all this time Mary, the mother of Jesus, and John had been slowly approaching the cross, and now they stood immediately below Jesus, Mary on the right, John on the left. Then Jesus beholding them, said to Mary, "Mother, behold thy son." And slowly and with difficulty turning his head to see John, Jesus added, "Son, behold thy mother." Then Mary cried in ecstacy of love and adoration, "Even in dying thou carest still for thy mother." And John tenderly supporting Mary, but looking above to Jesus, exclaimed, "Thy last request is sacred to me." And then to Mary he said, "Thou my mother, I thy son." Then Jesus in a hollow voice, cried hoarsely, "I thirst." The centurion hearing him said, "He thirsts and calls for drink." "Then," said Faustus, "I will reach him some at once." Then taking the reed with the sponge, he filled it with vinegar and passed it to the centurion, who, taking a small phial from his dress, poured hyssop on the sponge. Faustus then reached the sponge up to the lips of Jesus. But Jesus turned away his head and would not drink. "Here, drink," said Faustus. "What, wilt thou not?" and seeing that Jesus would not touch the sponge he took it away. Then Jesus cried in agony, "Eli, Eli, lama sabachthani!" But those hearing him did not understand, but imagined he cried for Elias. "Hark!" said they. "He cried for Elias." Then Caiaphas laughed and said, "Let be; let us see whether Elias will come to save him." Then Jesus raising his head with a great effort to heaven, and breathing heavily cried with a loud voice and said, "It is finished. Father, into thy hands I commend my spirit!" And as Jesus spoke these words his head fell forward on his breast and he gave up the ghost. Then suddenly the earth rocked and shook violently--thunder pealed--fierce lightnings flashed--darkness fell like a pall over the scene--the people stood trembling with fear. [Illustration: "It is finished."] The priests and the people cried out in terror, saying: "What a dreadful earthquake! Do you hear the crash of falling rocks? Woe, woe be to us!" But the centurion said, "Certainly, this was a righteous man." Another soldier replied, "God himself bears witness by these convulsions of nature." The centurion said, "Oh, his patience in the worst agony, his noble calm, this last loud cry to heaven at the moment before death, all betoken his divine origin. Verily, he is a Son of God!" "Come neighbors," said Oziel, "I will remain no longer in this terrible place." "Yes," cried Helen, "let us go home and may God have mercy on us." And others smiting their breasts cried, "Almighty God, we have sinned! Forgive us." And so it came to pass that no one remained round the cross but the holy women and John, and the friends of Jesus with the hangmen. The chief priests and the rulers still stood together marveling near the cross of the repentant thief, when suddenly a temple servant came rushing into their midst, breathless with haste. "High priests and assembled council!" he exclaimed, "a fearful thing has occurred in the holy place. I tremble in every limb." "What is it?" cried Caiaphas in alarm. "Not the temple?" "Has it fallen?" said Annas. "No," said the servant, "not that, but the veil of the temple has been rent in twain from the top to the bottom. I hastened hither with staggering feet, and feared the whole world was bursting asunder with the shock!" "Dreadful!" exclaimed the priests and Pharisees, throwing up their hands. But Caiaphas said, "It is that wretch who has done this by his magic arts. What a blessing it is that he is out of the world! Otherwise he would bring all the elements into disorder." Then all the priests and Pharisees raised up their voices and cried, shaking their fists against Jesus, "Cursed be the ally of Beelzebub!" "Now," said Caiaphas, "let us hurry home and see what has happened; then we will come back at once. For I cannot rest until I have seen this fellow's bones broken and the corpse flung into the grave of the transgressors." When Caiaphas and Annas and all the rulers of the Jews had departed, Nicodemus said to Joseph of Arimathea, having overheard the parting word-of Caiaphas, "Shall the holy body of the Son of God be delivered over to such dishonor as to be flung into the grave of the evil-doers?" "Listen, friends," said Joseph, "what I have decided to do. I will go straightway to Pilate, and will implore him to give me the body of Jesus. He can hardly refuse me this favor." "Do so, by all means," said Nicodemus. "Hasten hither, and I will bring the spices for him." They having departed, the holy women tremblingly drew round the cross. "Fear not, good women," said the centurion, "no harm shall happen to you." Then Mary Magdalene clasped the cross with both her arms, pressed it to her breast and cried through her tears as she looked up at the silent and lifeless form above, "O dearest Master, my heart hangs with thee on the cross!" Then entered a servant of Pilate, and addressing the centurion, said unto him, "This is the command of my lord: Break the legs of the crucified and take down their bodies. Everything must be over before the eve of the Passover begins." The centurion said: "It shall be done at once. Men, first break the legs of these two." Catiline said, "Come, let us put this business through without more delay." Then all the hangmen took ladders and placed them against the crosses of the thieves. Catiline, seizing a strong club, then mounted the ladder against the cross on the right hand. "Strike," said Faustus, "so as to kill him." Then Catiline smote the penitent thief heavily over each of the thighs and then across the shoulder bone. As the blow fell the man's head fell forward and he gave up the ghost. "There," said Catiline, "he wakes no more." In like manner did Nero to the thief on the left hand, saying, "I will hasten the other out of the world." When the blows were falling upon the body of the thief, Mary, the mother of Jesus, who had watched with terror the blows of the hangman, cried out, shuddering, "O my Son, they will surely not deal so cruelly with thy holy body!" Nero called out to the thief, "Movest thou no more? No, thou hast had enough. I have given thee thy wages." Then coming down from the ladder they made ready to break the legs of Jesus. But as the hangman approached the foot of the cross with the ladder and the club, Mary Magdalene sprang before him, and thrusting him back with her slender arm, cried piteously, "Oh, spare him, spare him!" Then Catiline looking up at Jesus said, "Behold, he is already dead. There is no need therefore to break his legs." "But," said Faustus, "in order to make sure, I will pierce his heart with a spear." Then grasping a lance he thrust it into the right side of Jesus, and forthwith there spurted out blood and water. John, who was looking up at the holy women, shuddered as the spear entered the side of Jesus. Mary Magdalene turning to Mary said, "Oh, mother, that thrust hast pierced thy own heart also." Then said the centurion, "Now, take down the bodies from the cross." "Where," said one of the hangmen, "shall we put them?" The centurion replied, "As ordered, into the grave of the malefactor." Then said Mary, with a terrible sob: "What a word; it pierces my heart anew." "Ladders here," said the hangmen, "we shall soon have them down." Then the hangmen unfastened the cords which bound the thieves to their crosses, and mounting the ladder received their bodies in their arms and bore them away. While they were busy Mary Magdalene went out to the centurion and said to him: "May we not even pay the last honors to our friend?" "Alas," said the centurion, "it is not within my power to permit this." Then came back Caiaphas and Annas and all the rulers of the Sanhedrin from the temple to Golgotha. Caiaphas, speaking as they approached, said, "It will be all the more delightful to see the body of this evil-doer cast into the pit of shame, because we have witnessed the destruction he has brought to pass within the temple." Annas answered, "What joy it would be if my eyes could see him torn limb from limb by wild beasts." "Ha," said Caiaphas, as they saw the hangman bearing off the bodies of the thieves, "they are already being taken down. Now we shall soon see our ardent desires fulfilled." Hardly had Caiaphas and the priests approached the cross when from the other side there came Joseph of Arimathea and with him a servant of Pilate. The servant said to the centurion, "The governor has sent me to inquire of thee whether it can really be true that Jesus of Nazareth is already dead as this man has informed me." "It is so, indeed," replied the centurion, pointing to the cross. "Look for yourself. Besides, for a complete certainty, his heart has been thrust through with a lance." Then said the servant, "I have orders to inform you that the body is to be delivered over to this man as a gift from Pilate." And having said this he departed. "Oh, blessed tidings!" cried the holy women still gathered together around the foot of the cross. But the Jews hearing the message, waxed furious and the rabbi, speaking of Jesus, said to the other priests and rulers, "The traitor of the synagogue, he has fooled us again." "And spoiled our triumph," said Annas. But Caiaphas would not submit and said haughtily, "We shall not tolerate it that his body be laid anywhere else than in the grave of the transgressors." The centurion replied, "As the body is given to this man, it is obvious that he can bury it where and how he will. There is no disputing that." Then he said to the soldiers and executioners, "Men, our work is done. We will return." Then the hangmen gathered up their basket and their cord, their dice and the fragments of Christ's mantle and departed. With them went the centurion and his band, leaving Caiaphas and the Jews face to face with the holy women and their friends at the foot of the cross. The Jews were exceedingly wroth and raged amongst themselves at the centurion. Annas cried out to Joseph of Arimathea, "Dost thou still persist in thy headstrong obstinacy? Art thou not ashamed to do honor to the very corpse of an executed malefactor?" Joseph replied, "I indeed honor this noblest of men, the teacher sent from God, whom being innocent you have murdered." And Nicodemus added, "Envy and pride were the motives of his condemnation. The judge himself was forced to bear witness to his innocence, and swore he would have no part in his death." Then said Caiaphas furiously, "The curse of our law will destroy you, ye enemies of our fathers." The rabbi said, "Do not excite thyself about them, O, high priest; they are smitten with blindness." But Caiaphas, refusing to be silenced, cried, "Cursed are ye by the holy council. Deprived of all your honors, never more shall ye dare to take your seats in our midst." "Neither do we desire to do so," said Nicodemus. Then said Annas, "As the body is now in the hands of his friends, we must be on our guard, for this deceiver, while he was yet alive said that in three days he would rise again." The rabbi said, "They could easily practice a new deception on the people and make fresh trouble for us. His disciples might take his body away secretly and then give out that he had risen from the dead." "In that case," said Caiaphas, "the last error would be worse than the first. Let us therefore go at once to Pilate and ask him for a guard of soldiers to keep watch over the grave until the third day." "A prudent thought," cried Annas, and the rabbi added, "Thus their schemes will be foiled." Then they departed to go to Pilate. His enemies having left his friends alone around the cross, Nicodemus and Joseph set about taking down the body of Jesus. Bringing the ladders Joseph mounted on the shorter one that was placed in front, while Nicodemus ascended the longer one behind. Joseph had with him a roll of linen so long that after putting it around the body of Jesus, the ends hanging over the cross reached to the ground, where they were held by Simon of Bethany and Lazarus. Then, after taking off the crown of thorns Nicodemus took the pincers and began to pull out the nails from the hands of Jesus and bent the stiffening arms lovingly away from the cross. While they were thus engaged the Magdalen and Mary talked together. "At last," said Mary Magdalene, "the madmen have departed. Be comforted, beloved mother, now we are alone with our friends; the mockery and blasphemy are past and a holy evening stillness surrounds us." Mary said, "O, my friends! What my Jesus suffered this mother's heart suffered with him. Now he has finished his work and entered into the rest of his Father. Peace also and trust from Heaven fills my soul." Mary Magdalene comforted her, saying, "He is not taken from us forever; that he promised." "O, noble men," said Mary to Joseph and Nicodemus, "make haste and bring me the body of my beloved son." The Magdalene said, "Mother, wilt thou not rest a little here, while we prepare his resting place?" Then seating herself on a stone a little to the right of the cross, Mary waited while her friends made ready to receive the body of Jesus. "Come, my companions," said Salome, "and help me to prepare the winding sheet to receive the body." They spread the linen on the ground at Mary's feet, placing one end upon her lap. By this time Nicodemus had extracted the second nail which was in his left hand, and Joseph had taken the nail from the feet of Jesus. Then Simon and Lazarus, holding the ends of the linen roll, slowly lowered the body into the arms of Joseph of Arimathea. "O, come," said Joseph, "thou sweet and holy burden; let me take thee upon my shoulders." Then with the body of Jesus resting upon his shoulders Joseph began to descend the ladder. Nicodemus had already come down and awaited him at the foot of the cross. Spreading out his arms to receive the body of Jesus, he said, "Come thou holy body of my only friend, let me embrace thee." Then they carried the body of Jesus and placed it on the linen winding sheet that was prepared for it on his mother's lap. Nicodemus, looking at his wounds sighed, "How the rage of thy enemies hath torn thy flesh." "Now," said John, "the best of sons rests once more on the bosom of the best of mothers." Mary looked down upon the pale, blood-spotted face of Jesus, and then sighing heavily she said, "O, my Son, how is thy body covered with wounds!" "Mother," said John, "from these wounds flowed salvation and blessing for mankind." "See, mother," said the Magdalene, who stood on her right hand, "how the peace of heaven rests in death upon his face." Then said Nicodemus who had brought some ointment, "Let us anoint him and then wrap him in this new linen." He then poured the ointment into all the wounds on the body of Jesus. "He shall be laid," said Joseph of Arimathea, "in my new grave which I have prepared in the rock in my garden." But before they could wrap him in the winding sheets, Salome came near, and kneeling, raised to her lips the pierced left hand of Jesus saying, "O, best of Masters! One more loving tear upon thy lifeless body." Then came the Magdalene on the right hand, and kneeling down, stooped low and kissed the right hand, saying, "O, let me once more kiss the hand which has so often blessed me." Then said John, "We shall see him again." "Help me," said Joseph to Nicodemus, "to bear him into the garden." "Blessed am I," said Nicodemus, "that I may lay to rest the remains of him who was sent from God." Then taking up the body they bore it away. Then said John to Mary and the other woman, "Let us follow the dear, the divine friend." "It is the last honor," said Mary, "that I can do my Jesus." * * * * * * On the morning of the third day since Jesus had been crucified, before the sun had arisen, the four soldiers who were appointed to watch the grave sat outside the tomb where the body of Jesus had been laid. One of them awaking, cried, "Brothers, is not the night nearly over?" Then said Titus, "The sky is already reddening in the east; a beautiful spring day is beginning to dawn." Hardly had he said these words when there was a great earthquake. Pedius springing up exclaimed, "Immortal Gods! What a fearful shock!" "The earth is splitting," cried Rufus. Then there was a peal of thunder. Titus called out, "Away from the rock; it is tottering; it is falling!" and the stone which had been rolled up into the mouth of the sepulcher fell down with a crash. Jesus arose. For a moment he appeared at the mouth of the sepulchre, radiant in white apparel, while the watch fell on their faces to the ground crying out, "Ye gods, what do we see? A fire from heaven is blinding our eyes!" Jesus then passed out through the door of the sepulchre and went down into the garden and out of sight. After awhile the soldiers, who were lying prostrate on the ground said to each other, "Brother, what has happened to us?" Then said one of the soldiers, "I will not stop here another moment." But Titus looking up said, "The apparition is vanished," and grasping his spear he rose to his feet saying, "Brothers, take heart; we have nothing to fear, as we have done no wrong." They then stood up and saw the open door of the sepulchre from which the stone had fallen. Then said Titus, "The stone is rolled away from the grave. The grave is open." "Yes," said another, "and the garden door is bolted." Then they went with fear and trembling to the door of the sepulchre, and one looking in, said, "I do not see the corpse." Then another going farther inside said, "Here is the linen cloth lying in which the body was wrapped. He has gone out of the grave." Titus said, "He must have risen again, as no one came into the garden." Then said the third soldier, "It has happened thus as the priests feared." And Titus answered, "He has fulfilled his word!" "Now, what shall we do?" said the soldiers. "There is nothing else to be done," said one, "excepting to hasten to the Pharisees and tell them what has happened." All replied at once, "That we will," and they hastened away. CHAPTER X. CONCLUSION. I.--THE STORY THAT TRANSFORMED THE WORLD Written by Mr. Stead at Ober-Ammergau the night after witnessing the performance of the Passion Play. This is the story that transformed the world! This is the story that transformed the world! Yes, and will yet transform it! Yes, thank God, so the answer comes; and will yet transform it until the kingdom comes! This is the story that transformed the world. I awoke shortly after midnight, after seeing the Passion Play at Ober-Ammergau, with these words floating backward and forward in my head like a peal of bells from some distant spire. Backward and forward they went and came, and came and went. This is the story that transformed the world! This is the story that transformed the world. And then in the midst of the reiterated monotone of this insistent message came the glad response from I know not where, "Yes, and will yet transform it!" And then the two met and mingled, strophe and anti-strophe, one answering the other, "This is the story that transformed the world. Yes, and will yet transform the world!" [Illustration: He is risen.] I tried to sleep, but could not. It was as if church bells were pealing their sweet but imperious music within my brain. So I got up and wrote. All is silent save the ticking of the watch by my bedside; silent as the stars which gleam down from the blue sky above the cross-crowned crag, which stands like some giant sentinel keeping watch over the village, at its foot. Herod, our host, sleeps soundly, and Johannes, wearied by his double service of waiter at the hotel and his role in the sacred play, is oblivious of all. The crowded thousands who watched for hours yesterday the unfolding of the passion of Christ Jesus of Galilee have disappeared, and I am alone. But not alone. For as real and as vivid as that same crowd of yesterday seem to me the thronging memories of other days, of the centuries that rise between the time when Jesus really lived on earth, and today. Nineteen hundred years have gone since all that we saw represented yesterday was no mere mimic show but deadly tragic fact; nineteen hundred years during which the shaping power of the world has been that story. The old, old, story never before so vividly realized in all its human significance and its Divine import. Its human significance, for thank God, we have at last seen Jesus as a man among men, a human being with no halo round his brow, no radiance not of this world marking him off apart from the rest of his fellow-men, but simply Jesus, the Galilean, gibbeted on the gallows of his time, side by side with the scum of mankind. And it was this story that transformed the world. "Thou hast conquered, O pale Galilean!" Over how many tribes and nations and kindreds of men? Oh, the wonder of it all, the miracle of miracles surely is this. That this story should have transformed the world. For after all, what was the passion? Looked at as we looked at it yesterday, not from the standpoint of those who see the sacred story through the vista of centuries that have risen in splendor and set in the glory of the cross, but from the standpoint which the actors on the stage assumed yesterday, what was the passion? It was merely a passing episode in the unceasing martyrdom of man. Think you that of the thirty thousand Jews whom the humane Titus by a mere stroke of his stylus condemned to be crucified round the walls of Jerusalem forty years after that scene on Calvary, none suffered like this! For them, also, was reared the horrid cross, nor were they spared the mockings and the scourgings, the cruel thirst, and the slow-drawn agony of days of death. And among all that unnamed multitude how few were there but had some distracted mother to mourn for him, some agonized mother to swoon at the news of his death? Jews they were, as was he. Hero souls, no doubt faithful unto death, and now, let us hope, wearing a crown of life; patriots who knew how to die in the service of the land which their fathers had received from God, and of the temple in which was preserved his holy law. But their self-sacrifice availed not even to save their names from oblivion. Their martyrdom was as powerless to avert the doom of the chosen people as the bursting of the foam-flakes on the sand is to arrest the rush of the returning tide. Why, then, should the death of one Jew have transformed the world, while the death of these uncounted thousands failed even to save the synagogue? Why? That is the question that the Passion Play forces home--a question which never even comes to the mind of those who are accustomed from childhood to regard this Jew as mysteriously Divine, not so much man as God, cut off from us and our daily littleness by the immeasurable abyss that yawns between the finite and the infinite. This greatest of all the miracles, the coming of Christendom into being, has become so much a matter of course that we marvel as little at it as we do at the sunrise--which also in its way is a wonder worthy enough. Think for a moment of the many myriads of fierce heathen, worshipping all manner of proud ancestral gods, that have gone down before the might of that pale form. Civilizations and empires have gone down into the void; darkness covers them over and oblivion is fast erasing the very inscriptions which history has traced on their tombs. But the kingdom which this man founded knoweth no end. The voice that echoed from the hills of Galilee is echoing today from hills the Romans never trod, and the story of that life is rendered in tongues unknown at Pentecost. The more you look at it from the standpoint of the contemporaries of the carpenter of Nazareth the more incredibly marvelous it appears. And this is the great gain of the Passion Play. It takes us clear back across the ages to the standpoint of those who saw Jesus, the Galilean, as merely a man among men. It compels us to see him without the aureole of Divinity, as he appeared to those who knew him from his boyhood, and who said, "Are not his brethren still with us?" It is true that it is still not real enough. The dresses are too beautiful--everything is conventional. We have here not the real Christ, the Jew, the outcast and the vagabond. For him we must wait till Vereschagin or some other realist painter may bring us reality. But even behind all the despisers of conventional Christian art, we have at least a sufficiently human figure to elicit sympathy, compassion and love. We get near enough to Christ to hear the blows that fall upon his face, to appreciate the superior respectability of the high priests, and to understand the contempt of Herod for the "king of fools." Not until we start low enough do we understand the heights to which the crucified has risen. It is only after realizing the depths of his humiliation we can even begin to understand the miracle of the transformation that he has wrought. Nor is that all. It is the greatest thing, but it does not stand alone. For besides enabling us to realize the story which transformed the world, it enables us to understand the agency by which that story effected its beneficent revolution. I learned more of the inner secret of the Catholic church in Ober-Ammergau than ever I learnt in Rome. Yet there is nothing distinctively Roman about the Passion Play. With the exception of the legend of St. Veronica with which Gabriel Maxs' picture has familiarized every Protestant who looks into a photograph shop and sees the strange face on the handkerchief, whose eyes reveal themselves beneath your gaze, there is nothing from first to last to which the Protestant Alliance could take exception. And yet it is all there. There, condensed into eight hours or less, is the whole stock-in-trade of the Christian church. It was in its effort to impress that story upon the heart of man that there came into being all that is distinctively Roman. To teach truth by symbols, to speak through the eye as much as the ear, to leave no gate of approach unsummoned by the bearer of the glad tidings of great joy, and above all in so doing to use every human element of pathos, of tragedy, and of awe that can touch the heart or impress the imagination--that was the mission of the church; and as it got further and further afield and had to deal with rude and ruder barbarians the tendency grew to print in still larger capitals. The Catholic church, in short, did for religion what the new journalism has done for the press. It has sensationalized in order to get a hearing among the masses. Protestantism that confines its gaze solely to the sublime central figure of the gospel story walks with averted face past the beautiful group of the holy women. Because others have ignorantly worshiped, therefore we must not even contemplate. But plant a competent Protestant dramatic critic in the theater of Ober-Ammergau, let him look with dry eyes if he can upon the leave-taking at Bethany, and then as the universal sob rises from thousands of gazers, he will realize perhaps for the first time how intense is the passion of sympathy which they have sealed up, how powerful the emotion to which they are forbidden to appeal. The most pathetic figure in the Passion Play is not Christ, but his mother. There is in him also sublimity. She is purely pathetic. And after Mary the mother comes Mary Magdalene. Protestantism will have much leeway to make up before it can find any influence so potent for softening the hearts and inspiring the imagination of men. Even in spite of all the obloquy of centuries of superstition, and of the consequent centuries of angry reaction against this abuse, these two women stand out against the gloom of the past radiant as the angels of God, and yet the true ideals of the womanhood of the world. Yes, this was the story that transformed the world! This and no other. This it was which to make visible, men carved it in stone and built it in the cathedral, and then, lest even the light of heaven should come to the eye of man without bearing with it the story of the cross, they filled their church windows with stained glass, so that the sun should not shine without throwing into brighter relief the leading features of the wonder-working epoch of his life and death. Wherever you go in Christendom you come upon endless reproductions of the scenes which yesterday we saw presented with all the vividness of the drama. The cross, the nails, the lance, have been built into the architecture of the world, often by the descendants of the men who crucified their Redeemer--not knowing what they did. For centuries art was but an endless repetition in color or in stone of the scenes we witnessed yesterday, or of incidents in lives which had been transformed by these scenes. The more utterly we strip the story of the Passion of all supernatural significance the more irresistibly comes back upon the mind the overwhelming significance of the transformation which it has affected in the world. Why?--I keep asking why? If there were no divine and therefore natural law behind all that, why should that trivial incident, the crucifixion of one among the unnumbered host of vagabonds executed every year in the reign of Tiberius and the Caesars that followed him, how comes it that we are here today? Why are railways built and special trains organized and six thousand people gathered in curiosity or in awe to see the representation of this simple tale? How comes it if there were no dynamo at the other end of that long coil of centuries, that the light should still be shining at our end today? Shining alas! not so brightly as could be wished, but to shine at all, is that in itself not miraculous? Through all the ages it has shone with varying luster. And still it shines. The dawn of a new day as I write is breaking upon this mountain valley. The cocks are crowing in the village, recalling the apostle who in the midst of the threatening soldiery denied his Lord. And even as Peter went out and wept bitterly, and ever after became the stoutest and bravest disciple of the Master, may it not yet be with those of this generation who also have denied their Redeemer? Who knows? The transformation would be far less startling than that which converted the Coliseum from the shambles of imperial Rome into the gigantic monument of triumphant martyrdom, far less violent than that which made the German forbears of these good Ammergauers into Christian folk. But if the transformation is to be effected, and the light and warmth of a new day of faith, and hope, and love, are to irradiate the world, then may it not be confidently asserted that in the old, old story of the cross lies the secret of the only power which can save mankind? II.--THE INTERPRETATION OF THE STORY. Wherein does it modify orthodox opinions? Chiefly in humanizing them, in making the gospel story "palpitate with actuality" to quote the French phrase which Matthew Arnold loved to use. These people on the stage at Ober-Ammergau are not lay figures, mere abstract representations of the virtues or the opposite. They live, breathe and act just as if they were actors in a French or Russian novel. That is the great difference. These poor players have brought our Lord to life again. In their hands he is no mere influence of abstraction, no infinite and almighty ruler of the universe. He may be and no doubt every one of the Ober-Ammergauers would shrink with horror from the suggestion that he was any other than the second person of the trinity. But they have done more than repeat the Athanasian creed. They have shown how it came to be believable. If that poor carpenter's son by getting himself crucified as one part fool and three parts seditious adventurer could revolutionize the world, then the inference seemed irresistible that he must have been divine. If the illegitimate son of a Bengalese peasant hanged by order of our lieutenant-governor in the northwest provinces because of the mischief he was making among the Moslems of Lahore were to establish his faith on the ruins of Westminster Abbey, and install the successor of his leading disciple on the throne of the British empire, we should not wonder at his apotheosis. To do so much, with so little material, compels the inference that there is the infinite behind. Nothing but a God could control such a machine. It needed a fulcrum in eternity to make such a change in the things of time with so weak a lever as the life of this Galilean. But it is not only Christ himself who becomes real to us, but what is almost as important, we see his contemporaries as they saw themselves, or as he saw them. Caiaphas--who that has seen Burgomaster Lang in that leading role can feel anything but admiration and sympathy for the worthy chief of the Sanhedrin? He had everything on his side to justify him. Law, respectability, patriotism, religious expediency, common sense. Against him there was only this poor vagabond from Nazareth--and the Invisible. But Caiaphas, like other men, does not see the Invisible and he acts, according to his lights, as he was bound to act. He is the great prototype of the domineering and intolerant ecclesiastic all the world over. Since the crucifixion he has often changed his clothes. But at heart he is the same. He has worn the three-crowned hat of the successor of Peter; he has paraded in a bishop's miter; he has often worn the gown and bands of Presbyterian Geneva. Caiaphas is eternal. He produces himself in every church and in every village, because there is a latent Caiaphas in every heart. Perhaps the character who comes out best is Pilate. He is a noble Roman, whose impartiality and rectitude, coupled with an anxious desire to take the line of least resistance and find out some practical middle course, is worthy of that imperial race to whose vices, as well as to many of their virtues, we English have succeeded. Pilate did his best to save Jesus up to a point--beyond that point he did not go, and according to the accepted ethics of men in his position, it would have been madness to have gone. Why should he, Pontius Pilate, procurator of Judea, risk his career and endanger the tranquillity of Jerusalem merely to save a poor wretch like that Galilean? What Englishman who has ever ruled a province in India, where religious ferment was rife, who would not have felt tempted to act as Pilate acted--nay, would not have acted as he acted without even the hesitation he showed, if the life of some poor devil of a wandering fakir stood between him and the peace of the empire? Would to God that British magistrates, even at home in our own land, would give the despised and unpopular poor man the same number of chances Pilate gave to Jesus. With Downing street eager for the conviction of a socialist agitator, and the whole of society and the mob savage against him, a man would be a fool who would not appeal from Bow street or old Bailey to so just a judge as Pilate. To the last Pilate never made himself the willing instrument of popular frenzy. He argued against it, he denounced it, he resorted to every subterfuge by which he could save the prisoner's life, and it was only when the Sanhedrin threatened to denounce him to Caesar as an enemy of the emperor that he unwillingly gave way. Here and there no doubt there are among our latter day magistrates and judges fanatical believers in abstract right, who would have risked the empire rather than let a hair of Christ's head be touched; but the average English or American magistrate--especially if the accused was "only a nigger"--would shrug his shoulders at such Quixotism as folly and worse. It is better, they would say, that one man should die, even unjustly, than that everything should be upset. Another person who comes out better than might be expected is Judas. The conception of his character is very fine and very human. Judas, as the treasurer of the little band, naturally felt indignant at the apparent wanton extravagance which led Mary Magdalene to pour ointment worth 300 pence upon the head of her master. There is real human nature and sound practical common sense in his reply to those who told him not to worry about the money, when he retorted, "Who is there to take care about it if I don't?" Judas never really from first to last meditates betraying his master to death. The salves which he lays to his conscience when consenting to identify Jesus at night are very ingenious. Judas was a smart man who calculated he stood to win in any event. He got the indispensable cash; all that he did was to indicate what could perfectly well have been discovered without his aid; if Jesus were what he believed him to be he could easily have baffled his enemies; if he were not, well, then, he had deceived them. But the moment Judas learns that he has really endangered his master's life, his whole demeanor changes. He flings back the blood money at the feet of those who had given it to him, and in the madness of despair he hangs himself. So far from Judas being callous to Christ's fate, his suicide was a proof that his penitence was far more agonizing than that of Peter. Simon Peter also comes in for a share in the general rehabilitation. It was impossible not to feel sympathy for the hasty old man, hustled from side to side by a pack of violent soldiery. Knowing moreover that he had cut off one of their ears but a few hours before, and that if they recognized him his own ears would have been cropped, even if he didn't share the fate of the crucified, his denial is so natural under the circumstances that you cease to marvel that even the cock crow on the roof failed to remind him of his master's warning. The Passion Play has at least done this--it sets us discussing the conduct of Caiaphas and Pilate and Judas, as if they were our contemporaries, as if they were statesmen at Westminster or at Washington or administrators in India or Canada. And this, no doubt, is no small service, for these men are types of human character who are eternally re-embodied among us. III.--THE RELIGION OF THE FUTURE. The story of the Passion Play has ever been real to me in another than a Catholic sense. It has been the perpetual re-incarnation of the divine story in the history of our own times that has absorbed my attention. These ancient figures on the stage of New Testament history were but of importance in so far as they lived again in our own life. Of their mystical theological significance I am, of course, not speaking. This is a thing apart. But the perpetual re-incarnation of God's Messiah in the great causes of justice, freedom and humanity, it is that which has made the gospel story ever new to me. Leaving Ober-Ammergau I returned by Switzerland to London. At Lucerne while waiting for the train, I turned over the book in the waiting-room that describes the construction of the Gotthard railway. About one thousand tons of dynamite, it is said, had sufficed to pierce the tunnels through the mountain barrier that separated Italy from Switzerland. Blasting powder could never have done the work. That helped to level the military roads for the legions of Suwarrow. It needed dynamite to tunnel the St. Gotthard--dynamite directed by science--and as I read this I fell a-thinking. The old story, that mediaeval Christ in magenta and pearl gray, with his disciples in artistic symphonies of harmonious and contrasted color, no doubt transformed the world. But a new world has arisen which sorely needs transforming again, and is it not possible that the conventional Christ, who no doubt did mighty things in the past, may have become as obsolete as blasting powder. May we not hope that if the conventional Christ did so much, the real Christ may do much more; that the realization of the Christ as he actually lived and died among us may be as much superior in its transforming efficacy as the dynamite of the modern engineer is to the powder sack of the soldiers who marched under old Suwarrow? Of one thing we may at least be certain, and that is, if everyone of those who call themselves by the Christian name would but say one Christ-like word, and do one Christ-like deed between every sunrise and sunset, it would lift a very Alpine mass of sorrow and anxiety from the weary heart of the world. What then might not be done if in very truth, and with all sincerity, we, each of us, tried to be a real Christ in his or her sphere, the sent of God in the midst of those with whom we pass our lives? One more word and I have done. The actors play different parts as they grow old. They begin with being children in the tableaux and they pass in turn from one role to another. The Judas of 1890 was the apostle John in 1880. When the Christ was selected in 1870, he was chosen out of four competitors. One of the unsuccessful today plays King Herod, the other Pontius Pilate. So it is ever in real life. Few, indeed, are those who are always Christs. When Christians ceased to be martyrs they martyred their enemies. The church came from the catacombs to establish the inquisition. In our own lives we may be Christs today and atheists tomorrow. Power and authority destroy more Christs than the dungeon and the stake. And perhaps one reason why the Ober-Ammergauers have been able to give us the Christ we see this year is because in their secluded valley they have remained poor and humble in spirit, and have never ceased to remember the story that transformed the world. 
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26003	----	"Jesus Himself." BY THE REV. ANDREW MURRAY. _Author of "Abide in Christ."_ FLEMING H. REVELL COMPANY. NEW YORK CHICAGO TORONTO. _Publishers of Evangelical Literature._ COPYRIGHT 1893 BY FLEMING H. REVELL COMPANY. PREFACE. The following brief messages comprise a revision of two addresses, which originally appeared in the _South African Pioneer_, the organ of the "Cape General Mission" (Rev. Andrew Murray, Pres.), and are published by arrangement, the Mission participating in the proceeds. "Jesus Himself." "_Their eyes were opened, and they knew Him._" I The words, from which I want to present a simple message, will be found in the Gospel according to St. Luke, the 24th chapter and the 31st verse: "_And their eyes were opened, and they knew Him._" Some time since, I preached a sermon with the words "Jesus Himself" as the text; and as I went home I said to those who were walking with me: "How possible it is to have Jesus Himself with us and never to know it, and how possible to preach of, and to listen to, all the truth about Jesus Himself and yet not to know Him." I cannot say what a deep impression was made upon me as I thought over it. Now these disciples had spent a most blessed time with Jesus, but if they had gone away before He revealed Himself that evening, they would never have been sure that it was Jesus, for their eyes were holden that they should not know Him. That is, alas, the condition of a great multitude in the Church of Christ. They know that Christ has risen from the dead. They believe, and they very often have blessed experiences that come from the risen Christ. Very often in a time of Convention, or in time of silent Bible reading, or in a time of the visitation of God's grace, their hearts burn; and yet it can be said of a people whose hearts are burning within them, that they did not know it was Jesus Himself. And now if you ask me what is to be the great blessing to be sought, my answer is this: Not only should we think about Jesus Himself and speak about Him and believe in Him, but we should come to the point that the disciples in the text arrived at, "and they knew Him." Everything is to be found in that. If I read that story of the disciples on the way to Emmaus, I get from it four stages in the Christian life. Just think! How did they begin the morning that day? With _Hearts sad and troubled_, because they thought Jesus was dead. They did not know that He was alive, and that is the state of very many Christians. They look to the Cross, and they struggle to trust Christ, but they have never yet learned the blessedness of believing that there is a living Christ to do everything for them. Oh! that word of the angel to the women! "Why seek ye the living among the dead?" What is the difference between a dead Christ, whom the women went to anoint, and a living Christ? A dead Christ, I must do everything for; a living Christ does everything for me. The disciples began the morning with a sad heart. I fancy very possibly they spent a sleepless night. Oh! the terrible disappointment! They had hoped that Christ would be the Deliverer of Israel, and they had seen Him die an accursed death. On the morning of that first day of the week, they rose with sad hearts--the bitter sadness cannot be expressed. That is just the life of many Christians. They try to believe in Jesus and to trust Him, and to hope in Him, but there is no joy. Why? Because they do not know that there is a living Christ to reveal Himself. Then there is the second stage. What is that? The stage of which Christ speaks: "_Slow of heart to believe._" They had the message from the women. They told the stranger who walked with them: "Certain women have astonished us, telling us they have seen an angel, who says He is alive." And Christ replied to them: "Oh! fools, and slow of heart to believe." Yes! there are many Christians to-day who have heard and who know that they must not only believe in a crucified Christ, but in a living Christ, and they try to grasp it and take it in, but it does not bring them a blessing, and why? Because they want to feel it and not to believe it. They want to work for it, and with efforts get hold of it, instead of just quietly sinking down and believing, "Christ, the living Jesus, He will do _everything_ for us." That is the second stage. The first stage is that of ignorance, the second stage is that of unbelief--the doubting heart that cannot take in the wonderful truth that Jesus lives. Then comes the third stage-- _The burning heart._ Jesus came to the two disciples, and after He had reproved them and said: "Oh! fools, and slow of heart to believe," He began to open the Scriptures to them, and to tell them of all the wonderful things the prophets had taught. Then their eyes were opened, and they began to understand the Scriptures. They saw that it was true that it was prophesied that Christ must rise. As He talked, there came out from Him--the living risen One--a mighty influence, and it rested upon them, and they began to feel their hearts burn within them with joy and gladness. You still say perhaps: "That is the stage we want to come to." No; God forbid you should stop there. You may get in that third stage--the burning heart--and yet something is still wanting--the revelation of Christ. The disciples had had a blessed experience of His divine powers, but He had not revealed Himself, and oh! how often it is that at Conventions and in churches, and in meetings and in blessed fellowship with God's saints, our hearts burn within us. These are precious experiences of the working of God's grace and Spirit, and yet there is something wanting. What is that? Jesus Himself has been working upon us, and the power of his risen life has touched us, but we cannot say, "I have met Him. He has made Himself known to me." Oh, the difference between a burning heart, which becomes cold after a time, which comes by fits and starts, and the blessed revelation of Jesus Himself as my Saviour, taking charge of me and blessing me and keeping me every day! This is the stage of _The satisfied heart._ Oh my brother, my sister! It is what I ask for you, and it is what I am sure you ask for yourself. I ask it for myself. Lord Jesus! may we know Thee in thy divine glory as the risen One, our Jesus, our Beloved and our mighty One. Oh! if there are any sad ones who cannot take this in, and who say, "I have never known the joy of religion yet"--listen, we are going to tell you how you can. All will center round this one thing, that just as a little child lives day by day in the arms of its mother, and grows up year by year under a mother's eye, it is a possibility that you can live every day and hour of your life in fellowship with the Holy Jesus. _He will do it for you._ Come, and let your sad heart begin to hope. Will He reveal Himself? He did it to the disciples and He will do it to you. Perhaps there are some who have got beyond the sad heart and who yet feel, "I have not got what I want." If you throw open your heart and give up everything but just believing and allowing Him to do what He wants, it will come. God be praised! it will come. _Jesus will reveal Himself._ Perhaps you have arrived at the stage of the burning heart, and can tell of many blessed experiences, but somehow there is a worm at the root. The experiences do not last, and the heart is so changeable. Oh come, my beloved! Follow Christ. Say, "Jesus, reveal Thyself that we may know Thee Thyself. We ask not only to drink of the living water, we want the fountain. We ask not only to bathe ourselves in the light, we want the Sun of Righteousness within our hearts. We ask not only to know Thee, who hast touched us and warmed our hearts and blessed us, but we want to know that we have the unchangeable Jesus dwelling within our hearts and abiding with us forevermore." Now comes the question which I really wanted to put,--What are the conditions under which our blessed Lord reveals Himself? Or, put it this way,--To whom is it that Jesus will reveal Himself? We have only to see how he dealt with these disciples, and we get the answer. What is the answer? First of all I think I find here that Christ revealed Himself to those disciples _Who had given up everything for Him._ He had said to them: "Forsake all and follow Me," and they had done it. With all their feebleness and all their unfaithfulness they followed Christ to the end. He said to them: "Ye have continued with Me in My temptations, and I appoint you a kingdom, as I have received a kingdom from My Father." They were not perfect men, but they would have died for Him. They loved Him, they obeyed Him, they followed Him. They had left all, and for three years they had been following hard after Christ. You say "Tell me what Christ wants of me, if I am to have his wonderful presence. Tell me what is the character of the man to whom Christ will reveal Himself in this highest and fullest way?" I answer: "It is the one who is ready to forsake all and to follow Him." If Christ is to give Himself wholly to me, He must know that He has me wholly for Himself; and I trust God will give grace that these words spoken about the consecration and the surrender, not only of all evil, but of many lawful things, and even, if necessary, of life itself, may lead us to understand what the demand is that Jesus makes upon us. The motto of the Cape General Mission is, "_God first._" In one sense that is a beautiful motto, and yet I am not always satisfied with it, because it is a motto that is often misunderstood. God first may mean "I" second, something else third, and something else fourth. God is thus first in order, but still God becomes one of a series of powers, and that is not the place God wants. The meaning of the words, "God first" is really "God all; God everything;" and that is what Christ wants. To be willing to give up everything, to submit to Christ to teach him what to say and what to do, is the first mark of the man to whom Christ will come. Are you not ready to take this step and say: "Jesus! I do give up everything; I have given up everything; reveal Thyself." Oh, brother! oh, sister! do not hesitate. Speak it out in your heart, and let this be the time in which a new sacrifice shall be laid at the feet of the blessed Lamb of God. There is a second thought. There is first the idea of having forsaken all to follow Him; of having given up everything in obedience to Him, and living just a life of simple love and obedience. But there is a second thing needed in the man who is to have this full revelation of Christ. He must be _Convicted of his unbelief._ "Oh! fools, and slow of heart to believe what the prophets have said." Oh! brother, sister, if we could have a sight of the amount of unbelief in the hearts of God's children, barring the door and closing the heart against Christ, how we should stand astonished and ashamed! When there is not unbelief but where there is faith, Christ cannot help coming in. He cannot help coming where there is a living faith, a full faith. The heart is opened, the heart is prepared; and as naturally as water runs into a hollow place, so naturally Christ must come into a heart that is full of faith. What is the hindrance with some earnest souls, who say: "I have given myself up to the Lord Jesus. I have done it often, and by His grace I am doing it every day, and God knows how earnestly and really I am doing it, and I have the sanction of God upon it, I know God has blessed me"? They have not been convicted of their unbelief. "Oh! fools, and slow of heart to believe." Do you know what Christ said about a man calling his brother a fool? Yet here the loving Son of God could find no other word to speak to His beloved disciples: "Oh! fools, and slow of heart to believe." You want the Lord Jesus to give you this full revelation of Himself? Are you willing to acknowledge that you are a fool for never having believed in Him? "Lord Jesus, it is my own fault. There Thou art, longing to have possession of me. There Thou hast been with Thy faithful promises waiting to reveal Thyself." Did you ever hear of a man loving another and not longing to reveal himself? Christ longs to reveal Himself, but He cannot on account of our unbelief. May God convict us of our unbelief that we may get utterly ashamed and broken down, and cry, "Oh, my God, what is this, this heart of unbelief actually throwing a barrier across the door that Christ cannot step in, blinding my eyes that I cannot see Jesus, though he is so near? Here He has been for ten or twenty years, from time to time giving me the burning heart, enjoying the experience of a little of His love and grace, and yet I have not had the revelation of Him, taking possession of my heart and dwelling with me in unbroken continuity." Oh! may God convict us of unbelief. Do let us believe because all things are possible to him that believes. That is God's word, and this blessing, receiving the revelation of Jesus, can come only to those who learn to believe and to trust him. There is another mark of those to whom this special revelation of Christ will come, and that is, _They do not rest until they obtain it._ You know the story. Their hearts were burning as they drew nigh to the place they were going to, and Christ made as if He were going farther. He put them to the test, and if they had allowed Him quietly to go on, if they had been content with the experience of the burning heart, they would have lost something infinitely better. But they were not content with it. They were not content to go home to the disciples that night and say, "Oh, what a blessed afternoon we have had! What wonderful teaching we have had!" No! The burning heart and the blessed experience just made them say, "Lord, abide with us," and they compelled Him to come in. They constrained Him to come in. It always reminds me of the story of Jacob, "I will not let Thee go, except Thou bless me." That is the spirit that prepares us for the revelation of Jesus. Oh! my dear friend, has this been the spirit in which we have looked upon the wonderful blessing that we have sometimes heard of? "Oh! my Lord Jesus, though I do not understand it, though I cannot grasp it, though my struggles avail nothing, I am not going to let Thee go. If it is possible for a sinner on earth to have Jesus every day, every hour, and every moment in resurrection power dwelling in his heart, shining within him, filling him with love and joy,--if that is possible, I want it." _Is that your language?_ Oh! come then and say: "Lord Jesus, I cannot let Thee go except Thou bless me." The question is asked so often: "What is the cause of the feeble life of so many Christians?" What is really the matter? What is actually the want? How little the Church responds to Christ's call! how little the Church is what Christ would have her to be! What is the cause of all the trouble? Various answers may be given, but there is one answer which includes all the other answers, and that is, each believer wants the personal _Full revelation of a personal Christ_ as an indwelling Lord, as a satisfying portion. When the Lord Jesus was here upon earth, what was it that distinguished His disciples from other people? He took them away from their fish-nets, and from their homes, and He gathered them about Himself, and they knew Jesus. He was their Master, and guarded them, and they followed Him. And what is to make a difference between Christ's disciples--not those who are just hoping to get to heaven, but Christ's whole-hearted disciples--what is to make a difference between them and other people? It is this, to be in fellowship with Jesus--every hour of the day; and just as Christ upon earth was able to keep those people with Him for three years, day by day, so _Christ is able_ in heaven now to do what He could not do when He was on earth--to keep in the closest fellowship with every believer throughout the whole world. Glory be to God! You know that text in Ephesians: "He that descended is the same also that ascended, that He might fill all things." Why was my Lord Jesus taken up to heaven away from the life of earth? Because the life of earth is a life confined to localities, but the life in heaven is a life in which there is no limit and no bound and no locality, and Christ was taken up to heaven, that, in the power of God, of the omnipresent God, He might be able to fill every individual here and be with every individual believer. That is what my heart wants to realize by faith; that is a possibility, that is a promise, that is my birthright, and I want to have it, and I want by the grace of God to say, "Jesus, I will not rest until Thou hast revealed Thyself fully to my soul." There are often very blessed experiences in the Christian life in what I call the third stage--the stage of the burning heart. Do you know what another great mark of that stage is? Delight in God's word. How did the disciples get their burning hearts? By that strange opening of the Scripture to them. He made it all look different,--new,--and they saw what they had never seen before. They could not help feeling, _How wonderful_, how heavenly was that teaching. Oh! there are many Christians who find the best time of the day is the time when they can get with their Bibles, and who love nothing so much as to get a new thought; and as a diamond digger rejoices when he has found a diamond, or a gold digger when he has found a nugget, they delight when they get from the Bible some new thought, and they feed upon it. Yet with all that interest in God's word, and with all that stirring of the heart with joy, when they go into business or attend to their daily duties, there is still something wanting. We must come away from all the manifold and multifarious blessings that Jesus can bestow from time to time, to the blessed unity of that one--that Jesus makes Himself known, Jesus Himself is willing to make Himself known. Oh! if I were to ask, "Is not this just what you and I want, and what many of us have been longing for?" I am sure you would answer, "_That is what I want._" Think what the blessedness will be that comes from it. You often sing:-- "Oh! the peace my Saviour gives! Peace I never knew before, And my way has brighter grown, Since I've learnt to trust Him more." I recently had a letter from some one in the Free State saying what a wonderful comfort and strength that little verse was in the midst of difficulties and troubles. Yes; but how can that peace be kept? It was the presence of Christ that brought the peace. When the storm was threatening to swallow up the disciples, it was the presence of Christ Himself that gave the peace. Oh! Christian, do you want peace and rest? You must have Jesus Himself. You talk of purity, you talk of cleansing, you talk of deliverance from sin. Praise God, here is the deliverance and the cleansing, when the living Jesus comes and gives power. Then we have this resurrection of Christ, this heavenly Christ upon the throne, making Himself known to us. Surely that will be the secret of purity and the secret of strength. Where does the strength of so many come from? From the joy of a personal friendship with Jesus. Those disciples, if they had gone away with their burning hearts to the other disciples, could have told them wonderful things of a man who had explained to them the Scriptures and the promises, but they could not have said, "We have seen Jesus." They might have said, "Jesus is alive. We are sure of that," but that would not have satisfied the others. But they could now go and say, "_We have seen Himself._ He has revealed Himself to us." We are all glad to work for Christ, but there is a complaint throughout the Church of Christ, from the ministers in the pulpit down to the feeblest worker, of lack of joy and lack of blessedness. Let us try and find out whether this is not the place where the secret will be discovered--that the Lord Jesus comes and shows Himself to us as our Master and speaks to us. When we have Jesus with us, and when we go every footstep with the thought that it is Jesus wants us to go, it is Jesus who sends us and is helping us, then there will be brightness in our testimony, and it will help other believers, and they will begin to understand; "I see why I have failed. I took the word, I took the blessing, and I took, as I thought, the life, but I was without the living Jesus." And if you now ask, "How will this revelation come?" Brother, sister, that is the secret that no man may tell, that Jesus keeps to Himself. It is _In the power of the Holy Ghost_; Christ, the risen One, entered into a new life. His resurrection life is entirely different from His life before His death. You know what we read: "They knew Him." He revealed Himself, and then He passed away. And was that vision of Christ worth so much? It was lost in a moment. It was worth heaven, eternity, everything. Why? Because henceforth Christ was no longer to be known after the flesh. Christ was henceforth in the power of the Spirit, which fills Heaven; in the power of the Spirit which is the power of the Godhead; in the power of the Spirit, which fills our hearts. Christ was henceforth to live in the life of Heaven. Thank God, Christ can by the power of the Holy Ghost reveal Himself to each one of us; but oh! brother, it is a secret thing between Christ and yourself. Take this assurance, "Their eyes were opened and they knew Him," and believe that it is written for you. You say, "I have known the other three stages; the stage of the sad heart, mourning that I knew no living Christ; I have known the stage of the slow heart to believe, when I struggled with my unbelief; and I know the stage of the burning heart, when there are great times of joy and blessedness." You say that? Oh come then and know the fourth stage of _The satisfied heart_, of the heart made glad for eternity, of the heart that cannot keep its joy in, but goes away back to Jerusalem, and says, "It is true. Jesus has revealed Himself. I know it, I feel it." Oh! brother, oh! sister, how will this revelation come? Jesus will tell you. Just come to the Lord Jesus and breathe up before Him a simple child-like prayer, and I, His servant, will come and take you by the hand and say: "Come, now, my work is done. I have pointed to the Lamb of God, to the risen One. My work is done." Let us enter into the Holy Presence and begin, if you have never yet sought it before, begin to plead: "Oh! Saviour, that I might have this blessedness every moment present with me--Jesus Himself, my portion forever." "_Jesus Himself._" "_Lo, I am with you alway._" II When I think of all the struggles and difficulties and failures of which many complain, and know that many are trying to make a new effort to begin a holy life, their hearts fearing all the time that they would fail again, owing to so many difficulties and temptations and the natural weakness of their character, my heart longs to be able to tell them in words so simple that a little child could understand, _What the secret is of the Christian life._ And then the thought comes to me, Can I venture to hope that it will be given to me to take that glorious, heavenly, divine Lord Jesus and to show Him to these souls, so that they can see Him in His glory? And can it be given to me to open their eyes to see that there is a Divine, Almighty Christ, who does actually come into the heart and who faithfully promises, "I will come and dwell with you, and I will never leave you?" No; my words cannot do that. But then I thought, my Lord Jesus can use me as a simple servant to take such feeble ones by the hand and encourage and help them; to say, Oh, come, come, come, into the presence of Jesus and wait on Him, and He will reveal Himself to thee. I pray God that He may use His precious Word. It is simply _The presence of the Lord Jesus._ That is the secret of the Christian's strength and joy. You know that when He was upon earth, He was present in bodily form with his disciples. They walked about together all day, and at night they went into the same house, and sometimes slept together and ate and drank together. They were continually together. It was the presence of Jesus that was the training school of His disciples. They were bound to Him by that wonderful intercourse of love during three long years, and in that intercourse they learned to know Christ, and Christ instructed and corrected them, and prepared them for what they were afterward to receive. And now when He is going away, He says to them: "Lo, behold, I am with you always--all the days--even unto the end of the world." What a promise! And just as really as Christ was with Peter in the boat, just as Christ sat with John at the table, as really can I have Christ with me. And more really, for they had their Christ in the body and He was to them a man, an individual separate from them, but I may have glorified Christ in the power of the throne of God, the omnipotent Christ, the omnipresent Christ. What a promise! You ask me, How can that be? And my answer is, Because Christ is God, and because Christ after having been made man, went up into the throne and the Life of God. And now that blessed Christ Jesus, with His loving, pierced heart; that blessed Jesus Christ, who lived upon earth; that same Christ glorified into the glory of God, can be in me and _Can be with me all the days._ You say, Is it really possible for a man in business, for a woman in the midst of a large and difficult household, for a poor man full of care; is it possible? Can I always be thinking of Jesus? Thank God, you need not always be thinking of Him. You may be the manager of a bank, and your whole attention may be required to carry out the business that you have to do. But thank God, while I have to think of my business, Jesus will think of me, and He will come in and will take charge of me. That little child, three months old, as it sleeps in its mother's arms, lies helplessly there; it hardly knows its mother, it does not think of her, but the mother thinks of the child. And this is the blessed mystery of love, that Jesus the God-man waits to come in to me in the greatness of His love; and as He gets possession of my heart, He embraces me in those divine arms and tells me, "My child, I the Faithful One, I the Mighty One will abide with thee, will watch over thee and keep thee all the days." He tells me He will come into my heart, so that I can be a happy Christian, a holy Christian, and a useful Christian. You say, Oh! if I could only believe that, if I could think that it is possible to have Christ always, every hour, every moment with me, _Taking and keeping charge of me!_ My brother, my sister, it is just literally this that is my message to you. When Jesus said to His disciples, "Lo, I am with you always," He meant it in the fullness of the divine Omnipresence, in the fullness of the divine love, and he longs to-night to reveal Himself to you and to me as we have never seen Him before. And now just think a moment what a blessed life that must be--the presence of Jesus always abiding. Is not that the secret of peace and happiness? If I could just attain (that is what each heart says) to that blessed state in which every day and all the day I felt Jesus to be watching and ever keeping me, oh, what peace I would have in the thought, "I have no care if He cares for me, and I have no fear if He provides for me." Your heart says that this is too good to be true, and that it is too glorious to be for you. Still you acknowledge it must be most blessed. Fearful one, erring one, anxious one, I bring you God's promise, it is for me and for you. Jesus will do it; as God, He is able, and Jesus is willing and longing as the Crucified One to keep you in perfect peace. This is a wonderful fact, and it is the secret of joy unspeakable. And this is also _The secret of Holiness._ Instead of indwelling sin, an indwelling Christ conquering it; instead of indwelling sin, the indwelling life and light and love of the blessed Son of God. He is the secret of holiness. "Christ is made unto us sanctification." Remember that it is Christ Himself who is made unto us sanctification. Christ coming into me, taking charge of my whole being; my nature and my thoughts and my affections and my will; ruling all things. It is this that will make me holy. We talk about holiness, but do you know what holiness is? You have as much holiness as you have of Christ, for it is written, "Both he that sanctifieth and they who are sanctified are all of one;" and Christ sanctifies by bringing God's life into me. We read in Judges, "The Spirit of the Lord clothed Gideon." But you know that there is in the New Testament an equally wonderful text, where we read, "Put on the Lord Jesus Christ," that is, clothe yourself with Christ Jesus. And what does that mean? It does not only mean, by imputation of righteousness outside of me, but to clothe myself with the living character of the living Christ, with the living love of the living Christ. _Put on the Lord Jesus._ Oh! what a work. I cannot do it unless I believe and understand that He whom I have to put on is as a garment covering my whole being. I have to put on a living Christ who has said, "Lo, I am with you all the days." Just draw the folds closer round you, of that robe of light with which Christ would array you. Just come and acknowledge that Christ is with you, on you, in you. Oh, put Him on! And when you look at one characteristic of His after another; and you hear God's word, "Let this mind be in you which was also in Jesus Christ," and it tells you He was obedient unto the death; and then you answer, Christ the obedient one, Christ whose whole life was obedience, it is that Christ whom I have received and put on. He becomes my life and His obedience rests upon me, until I learn to whisper as Jesus did, "My Father, Thy will be done; lo, I come to do Thy will." This, too, is the secret of influence in witness and work. How comes it that it is so _Difficult to be obedient_, and how comes it that I so often sin? People sing, "Oh, to be wholly Thine," and sing it from their hearts. How comes it then that they are disobedient again? Where does the disobedience come from? And the answer comes, It is because I am trying to obey a distant Christ, and thus His commands do not come with power. Look what I find in God's Word. When God wanted to send any man upon His service, He first met him and talked with him and cheered him time after time. God appeared to Abraham seven or eight times, and gave to him one command after another; and so Abraham learned to obey Him perfectly. God appeared to Joshua and to Gideon, and they obeyed. And why are we not obedient? Because we have so little of this near intercourse with Jesus. But, oh, if we knew _This blessed, heavenly secret_ of having the presence of Christ with us every day, every hour, every minute, what a joy it would be to obey! We could not walk in this consciousness,--My Lord Jesus is with me and around me,--and not obey Him! Oh, do you not begin to long and say, This is what I must have, the ever-abiding presence of Jesus! There are some Christians who try not to be disobedient, who come to their Sunday and week-day duties most faithfully, and pray for grace and a blessing, and they complain of so little blessing and power, so little power! And why? Because there is not enough of the living Jesus in their hearts. I sometimes think of this as a most solemn truth. There is a great diversity of gifts amongst ministers and others who speak; but I am sure of this, that a man's gifts are not the measure of his real power. I am sure of this, that God can see what neither you nor I can see. Sometimes people feel something of it; but in proportion as a man has in reality, not as a sentiment or an aspiration, or a thought, but in reality, the very spirit and presence of Jesus upon him, there comes out from him an unseen silent influence. That secret influence is the _Holy presence of Jesus._ "Lo, I am with you always." And now, if what I have said has sufficed just to indicate what a desirable thing it is, what a blessed thing it is to live for, then let me now give you an answer to the question that arises in more than one heart. I can hear some one say, "Tell me how I can get this blessed abiding presence of Jesus; and when I have got it, how I can ever keep it. I think if I have this, I have all. The Lord Jesus has come very near to me. I have tried to turn away from everything that can hinder, and have had my Lord very near. But how can I know that He will be with me always?" If you were to ask the Lord, "Oh, my blessed Lord Christ, what must I do, how can I enjoy Thy never-failing presence?" His first answer would be, "Only believe. I have said it often, and you only partly understood it, but I will say it again-- _My child, only believe._" It is by faith. We sometimes speak of faith as trust, and it is a very helpful thing to tell men that faith is trust: but when people say, as they sometimes do, that it is nothing else but trust, that is not the case. It is a far wider word than trust. It is by faith that I learn to know the invisible One, the invisible God, and that I see Him. Faith is my spiritual eye-sight for the unseen and heavenly. You often try hard to trust God, and you fail. Why? Because you have not taken time first to see God. How can you trust God fully until you have met Him and known Him? You ask, "Where ought I to begin?" You ought to begin with first believing; with presenting yourself before this God in the attitude of silent worship, and asking Him to let a sense of His greatness and His presence come upon you. You must ask Him to let your heart be covered over with his holy presence. You must seek to realize in your heart the presence of an Almighty and all-loving God, an unspeakably loving God. Take time to worship Him as the omnipotent God, to feel that the very power that created the world, the very power that raised Jesus from the dead, is at this moment working in your heart. We do not experience it because we do not believe. We must take time to believe. Jesus says, "Oh, my child, shut your eyes to the world, and shut out of your heart all these thoughts about religion, and begin to believe in God Himself." That is the first article of the Creed--"I believe in God." _By believing I open my heart_, to receive this glorious God, and I bow and worship. And then as I believe this, I look up and I see the Lamb upon the Throne, and I believe that the Almighty power of God is in Jesus for the very purpose of revealing His presence to my heart. Why are there two upon the Throne? Is not God enough? The Lamb of God is upon the Throne in your interest and in mine; the Lamb upon the Throne is Christ Himself, with power as God to take possession of me. Oh, do not think you cannot get that realization. And do not think of it as now only within your reach; but cultivate the habit of faith. "Jesus, I believe in Thy glory; I believe in Thine omnipotence; I believe in Thy power working within me. I believe in Thy living, loving presence with me, revealing itself in Divine power." Do not be occupied with feelings or experiences. You will find it far simpler and easier just to trust and say, "I am sure He is all for me." Get rid of yourself for the time; don't think or speak about yourself; but _Think what Jesus is._ And then remember it is believe always. I sometimes feel that I cannot find words to tell how God wants His people to believe from morning till night. Every breath ought to be just believing. Yes, it is indeed true; the Lord Jesus loves us to be just believing from morning to evening, and you must begin to make that the chief thing in life. In the morning when you wake, let your heart go forth with a large faith in this; and in the watches of the night let this thought be present with you--my Saviour Jesus is round me and near me, and you can look up and say, "I want to trust Thee always." You know what trust is. It is so sweet to trust. And now cannot you trust Jesus; this presence, this keeping presence? He lives for you in Heaven. You are marked with His blood, and he loves you; and cannot you say, "My King, my King, He is with me all the days?" Oh, trust Jesus to fulfill His own promises. There is a second answer that I think Christ would give if we come to Him believing, and say, "Is there anything more, my blessed Master?" I think I can hear His answer: "_My child, always obey._" Do not fail to understand the lesson contained in this one word. You must distinctly and definitely take that word OBEY and obedience, and learn to say for yourselves: "Now I have to obey, and by the grace of God I am going to obey in everything." At our recent exhibition at the Cape, Mr. Rhodes, our Prime Minister, went to the gate, thinking he had got the fee in his pocket. When he got to the gate, however, he found he had not enough money, and said to the door-keeper, "I am Mr. Rhodes; let me in and I will take care you do not suffer." But the man said, "I cannot help that, sir, I have my orders," and he refused to let Mr. Rhodes in. He had to borrow from a friend, and pay before he could pass the gate. At a dinner afterward Mr. Rhodes spoke about it, and said it was a real joy to see a man stick to his order like that. That is it. The man had his orders, and that was enough to him, and whoever came to the gate had to pay his fee before he could enter. God's children ought to be like soldiers, and be _Ready to say, "I must obey."_ Oh! to have that thought in our hearts--"Jesus, I love to obey Thee." There must be personal intercourse with the Saviour, and then comes the joy of personal service and allegiance. Are you ready to obey in all feebleness and weakness and fear? Can you say, "Yes, Lord Jesus, I will obey?" If so, then give yourself up absolutely. Then your feeling will be, "I am not going to speak one word if I think that Jesus would not like to hear it. I am not going to have an opinion of my own, but my whole life is to be covered with the purity of His obedience to the Father and His self-sacrificing love to me. I want Christ to have my whole life, my whole heart, my whole character. I want to be like Christ and to obey." Give yourself up to this loving obedience. The third thought is this: If I say, "My Master, blessed Saviour, tell me all, I will believe, I do obey, and I will obey. Is there anything more I need to secure the enjoyment of Thine abiding presence?" And I catch this answer: "_My child, close intercourse with me every day._" Ah, there is the fault of many who try to obey and try to believe; they do it in their own strength, and they do not know that if the Lord Jesus is to reign in their hearts, they must have close communion with Him every day. You cannot do all He desires, but Jesus will do it for you. There are many Christians who fail here, and on that account do not understand what it is to have fellowship with Jesus. Do let me try and impress this upon you: God has given you a loving, living Saviour, and how can He bless if you do not meet Him? The joy of friendship is found in intercourse; and Jesus asks for this every day, that he may have time to influence me, to tell me of Himself, to teach me, to breathe His Spirit unto me, to give me new life and joy and strength. And remember, intercourse with Jesus _Does not mean half-an-hour_ or an hour in your closet. A man may study his Bible or his commentary carefully; he may look up all the parallel passages in the chapter; when he comes out of his closet he may be able to tell you all about it, and yet he has never met Jesus that morning at all. You have prayed for five or ten minutes, and you have never met Jesus. And so we must remember that though the Bible is most precious, and the reading of it most blessed and needful; yet prayer and Bible reading are not fellowship with Jesus. What we need every morning is to meet Jesus, and to say, "Lord, here is the day again, and I am just as weak in myself as ever I was; do Thou come and feed me this morning with Thyself and speak to my soul." Oh, friends, it is not your faith that will keep you standing, but it is a living Jesus, met _Every day in fellowship_ and worship and love. Wait in His presence, however cold and faithless you feel. Wait before Him and say: "Lord, helpless as I am, I believe and rest in the blessed assurance that what Thou hast promised Thou wilt do for me." I ask my Master once again, "Lord Jesus, is that all?" And his answer is: "No, my child; I have one thing more." "And what is that? Thou hast told me to believe, and to obey, and to abide near to Thee: what wouldst Thou have more?" "_Work for me my child._ Remember, I have redeemed thee for My service; I have redeemed thee to have a witness to go out into the world confessing Me before men." Oh, do not hide your treasure, or think that if Jesus is with you, you can hide it. One of two things will happen--either you must give all up, or it must come out. You have perhaps heard of the little girl, who, after one of Mr. Moody's meetings, was found to be singing some of the hymns we all know. The child's parents were in a good position in society, and while singing those hymns in the drawing-room her mother forbade her. One day she was singing the hymn "Oh, I'm so glad that Jesus loves me," when her mother said, "My child, how is it that you sing this when I have forbidden it?" She replied, "Oh, mother, I cannot help it; it comes out of itself." If Jesus Christ be in the heart, He must come out. Remember, it is not only our duty to confess Him; it is that, but it is something more. If you do not do it, it is just an indication that you have not given yourself up to Jesus; your character, your reputation, your all. You are holding back from Him. You must confess Jesus in the world, in your home; and in fact everywhere. You know the Lord's command, "Go ye into all the world, and preach the Gospel to every creature;" "and, lo, I am with you," meaning, "Any one may work for Me, and I will be with him." It is true of the minister, the missionary, and every believer who works for Jesus. The presence of Jesus is intimately connected with work for Him. You say, "I have never thought of that before. I have my Sunday work, but during the week I am not doing work for Him." You cannot have the presence of Jesus, and let this continue to be the case. I do not believe you could have the presence of Jesus all the week and yet do nothing for Him; therefore my advice is, work for Him who is worthy, His blessing and His presence will be found in the work. It is _A blessed privilege to work for Christ_ in this perishing world. Oh, why is it that our hearts often feel so cold and closed up, and so many of us say, "I do not feel called to Christ's work"? Be willing to yield yourself for the Lord's service, and He will reveal Himself to you. Christ comes with His wondrous promise, and what He says, He says to all believers: "Lo, I am with you always; that is My promise; this is what I in My power can do; this is what I faithfully engage to perform; will you have it? _I give Myself to thee, O soul._" To each of those who have come to Him, Christ says, "I give Myself to thee, to be absolutely and wholly thine every hour of every day; to be with thee and in thee every moment, to bless thee and sustain thee, and to give thee each moment the consciousness of My presence; I will be wholly, wholly, wholly thine." And now, what is the other side? He wants me to be wholly His. Are you ready to take this as your motto now, "_Wholly for God_"? O God, breathe Thou Thy presence in my heart that Thou mayest shine forth from my life. "Wholly for God," let this be our motto. Come let us cast ourselves on our faces before His feet. Our missionary from Nyassaland says he has often been touched by seeing how the native Christians, when they are brought to Jesus, do not stand in prayer; they do not kneel; but they cast themselves upon the earth with their foreheads to the ground, and there they lie, and with loud voices cry unto God. I sometimes feel that I wish we could do that ourselves; but we need not do it literally. Let us do it in spirit, for the everlasting Son of God has come into our hearts. Are you going to take Him and to keep Him there, to give Him glory and let Him have His way? Come now and say, "I will seek Thee with my whole heart; I am wholly Thine." Yield yourself entirely to Him to have complete possession. He will take and keep possession. Come now. Jesus delights in the worship of His Saints. Our whole life can become one continuous act of worship and work of love and joy, if we only remember and value this, that Jesus has said, "Lo, I am with you all the days, even unto the end of the world." 
21814	----	THE TRIAL AND DEATH OF JESUS CHRIST A Devotional History of our Lord's Passion. BY JAMES STALKER, D.D. AUTHOR OF "LIFE OF JESUS CHRIST," "LIFE OF ST. PAUL," "IMAGO CHRISTI," ETC. CRUX DOMINI PALMA, CEDRUS, CYPRESSUS, OLIVA. HODDER & STOUGHTON NEW YORK GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY COPYRIGHT, 1894, BY A. C. ARMSTRONG & SON. TO MY WIFE PREFACE Ever since I wrote, in a contracted form, _The Life of Jesus Christ_, the desire has slumbered in my mind to describe on a much more extended scale the closing passages of the Saviour's earthly history; and, although renewed study has deepened my sense of the impossibility of doing these scenes full justice, yet the subject has never ceased to attract me, as being beyond all others impressive and remunerative. The limits of our Lord's Passion are somewhat indeterminate. Krummacher begins with the Triumphal Entry into Jerusalem, Tauler with the Feet-washing before the Last Supper, and Rambach with Gethsemane; most end with the Death and Burial; but Grimm, a Roman Catholic, the latest writer on the subject, means to extend his _Leidensgeschichte_ to the end of the Forty Days. Taking the word "passion" in the strict sense, I have commenced at the point where, by falling into the hands of His enemies, our Lord was deprived of voluntary activity; and I have finished with the Burial. No doubt the same unique greatness belongs to the scenes of the previous evening; and I should like to write of Christ among His Friends as I have here written of Him among His Foes; but for this purpose a volume at least as large as the present one would be requisite; and the portion here described has an obvious unity of its own. The bibliography of the Passion is given with considerable fulness in Zöckler's _Das Kreuz Christi_; but a good many of the books there enumerated may be said to have been superseded by the monumental work of Nebe, _Die Leidensgeschichte unsers Herrn Hesu Christi_ (2 vols., 1881), which, though not a work of genius, is written on so comprehensive a plan and with such abundance of learning that nothing could better serve the purpose of anyone who wishes to draw the skeleton before painting the picture. Of the numerous Lives of Christ those by Keim and Edersheim are worthy of special notice in this part of the history, because of the fulness of information from classical sources in the one and from Talmudical in the other. Steinmeyer (_Leidensgeschichte_) is valuable on apologetic questions. On the Seven Words from the Cross there is an extensive special literature. Schleiermacher and Tholuck are remarkably good; and there are volumes by Baring-Gould, Scott Holland and others. In the sub-title I have called this book a Devotional History, because the subject is one which has to be studied with the heart as well as the head. But I have not on this account written in the declamatory and interrogatory style common in devotional works. I have to confess that some even of the most famous books on the Passion are to me intolerably tedious, because they are written, so to speak, in oh's and ah's. Surely this is not essential to devotion. The scenes of the Passion ought, indeed, to stir the depths of the heart; but this purpose is best attained, not by the narrator displaying his own emotions, but, as is shown in the incomparable model of the Gospels, by the faithful exhibition of the facts themselves. GLASGOW, 1894. CONTENTS CHAPTER I. THE ARREST Matt. xxvi. 47-56; Mark xiv. 43-50; Luke xxii. 47-53; John viii. 1-11. II. THE ECCLESIASTICAL TRIAL Matt. xxvi. 57-68; Mark xiv. 51-65; Luke xxii. 54-71; John xviii. 12-14, 19-24. III. THE GREAT DENIAL Matt. xxvi. 69-75; Mark xiv. 66-72; Luke xxii. 54-62; John xviii. 15-18, 25-7. IV. THE CIVIL TRIAL Matt. xxvii. 11; Mark xv. 2; Luke xxiii. 2-4; John xviii. 28-38. V. JESUS AND HEROD Luke xxiii. 5-12. VI. BACK TO PILATE Matt. xxvii. 15-23; Mark xv. 6-14; Luke xxiii. 13-25; John xviii. 39, 40. VII. THE CROWN OF THORNS Matt. xxvii. 26-30; Mark xv. 15-20; Luke xxiii. 25; John xix. 1-5. VIII. THE SHIPWRECK OF PILATE Matt. xxvii. 24, 25; Mark xv. 15; Luke xxiii. 25; John xix. 5-16. IX. JUDAS ISCARIOT Matt. xxvii. 3-10; Acts i. 18, 19. X. VIA DOLOROSA Matt. xxvii. 31-3; Mark xv. 20, 21; Luke xxiii. 26; John xix. 16, 17. XI. THE DAUGHTERS OF JERUSALEM Luke xxiii. 27-31. XIL. CALVARY Matt. xxvii. 33-8; Mark xv. 27, 28; Luke xxiii. 32, 33; John xix. 18-22. XIII. THE GROUPS ROUND THE CROSS Matt. xxvii. 39-44, 55, 56; Mark xv. 29-32; Luke xxiii. 35-7, 49; John xix. 23-5. XIV. THE FIRST WORD FROM THE CROSS Luke xxiii. 34. XV. THE SECOND WORD FROM THE CROSS Luke xxiii. 39-43. XVI. THE THIRD WORD FROM THE CROSS John xix. 25-27. XVII. THE FOURTH WORD FROM THE CROSS Matt. xxvii. 46-9; Mark xv. 34-6. XVIII. THE FIFTH WORD FROM THE CROSS John xix. 28. XIX. THE SIXTH WORD FROM THE CROSS John xix. 30. XX. THE SEVENTH WORD FROM THE CROSS Luke xxiii. 46. XXI. THE SIGNS Matt. xxvii. 50-4; Mark xv. 38, 39; Luke xxiii. 44, 45, 47. XXII. THE DEAD CHRIST John xix. 31-7. XXIII. THE BURIAL Matt. xxvii. 57-61; Mark xv. 42-7; Luke xxiii. 50-6; John xix. 38-42. CHAPTER I. THE ARREST Our study of the closing scenes of the life of our Lord begins at the point where He fell into the hands of the representatives of justice; and this took place at the gate of Gethsemane and at the midnight hour. On the eastern side of Jerusalem, the ground slopes downwards to the bed of the Brook Kedron; and on the further side of the stream rises the Mount of Olives. The side of the hill was laid out in gardens or orchards belonging to the inhabitants of the city; and Gethsemane was one of these. There is no probability that the enclosure now pointed out to pilgrims at the foot of the hill is the actual spot, or that the six aged olive trees which it contains are those to the silent shadows of which the Saviour used to resort; but the scene cannot have been far away, and the piety which lingers with awe in the traditional site cannot be much mistaken. The agony in Gethsemane was just over, when "lo," as St. Matthew says, "Judas, one of the twelve, came, and with him a great multitude." They had come down from the eastern gate of the city and were approaching the entrance to the garden. It was full moon, and the black mass was easily visible, moving along the dusty road. The arrest of Christ was not made by two or three common officers of justice. The "great multitude" has to be taken literally, but not in the sense of a disorderly crowd. As it was at the instance of the ecclesiastical authorities that the apprehension took place, their servants--the Levitical police of the temple--were to the front. But, as Jesus had at least eleven resolute men with Him, and these might rouse incalculable numbers of His adherents on the way to the city, it had been considered judicious to ask from the Roman governor a division of soldiers,[1] which, at the time of the Passover, was located in the fortress of Antonia, overlooking the temple, to intervene in any emergency. And some of the members of the Sanhedrim had even come themselves, so eager were they to see that the design should not miscarry. This composite force was armed with swords and staves--the former weapon belonging perhaps to the Roman soldiers and the latter to the temple police--and they carried lanterns and torches, probably because they expected to have to hunt for Jesus and His followers in the recesses of His retreat. Altogether it was a formidable body: they were determined to make assurance doubly sure. I. The leader of them was Judas. Of the general character of this man, and the nature of his crime, enough will be said later; but here we must note that there were special aggravations in his mode of carrying out his purpose. He profaned the Passover. The better day, says the proverb, the better deed. But, if a deed is evil, it is the worse if it is done on a sacred day. The Passover was the most sacred season of the entire year; and this very evening was the most sacred of the Passover week. It was as if a crime should in Scotland be committed by a member of the Church on the night of a Communion Sabbath, or in England on Christmas Day. He invaded the sanctuary of his Master's devotions. Gethsemane was a favourite resort of Jesus; Judas had been there with Him, and he knew well for what purpose He frequented it. But the respect due to a place of prayer did not deter him; on the contrary, he took advantage of his Master's well-known habit. But the crowning profanation, for which humanity will never forgive him, was the sign by which he had agreed to make his Master known to His enemies. It is probable that he came on in front, as if he did not belong to the band behind; and, hurrying towards Jesus, as if to apprise Him of His danger and condole with Him on so sad a misfortune as His apprehension, he flung himself on His neck, sobbing, "Master, Master!" and not only did he kiss Him, but he did so repeatedly or fervently: so the word signifies.[2] As long as there is true, pure love in the world, this act will be hated and despised by everyone who has ever given or received this token of affection. It was a sin against the human heart and all its charities. But none can feel its horror as it must have been felt by Jesus. That night and the next day His face was marred in many ways: it was furrowed by the bloody sweat; it was bruised with blows; they spat upon it; it was rent with thorns: but nothing went so close to His heart as the profanation of this kiss. As another said, who had been similarly treated: "It was not an enemy that reproached me, then I could have borne it; neither was it he that hated me that did magnify himself against me, then I would have hid myself from him; but it was thou, a man mine equal, my guide and mine acquaintance; we took sweet counsel together, and walked to the house of God in company." [3] Before the kiss was given, Jesus still received him with the old name of Friend; but, after being stung with it, He could not keep back the annihilating question, "Judas, betrayest thou the Son of man with a kiss?" The kiss was the sign of discipleship. In the East, students used to kiss their rabbis; and in all likelihood this custom prevailed between Christ and His disciples. When we become His disciples, we may be said to kiss Him; and every time we renew the pledge of our loyalty we may be said to repeat this act. We do so especially in the Lord's Supper. In our baptism He may be said to take us up in His arms and kiss us; in the other sacrament we obtain the opportunity of returning this mark of affection. II. Probably Judas, being ahead of the band he was leading, went somewhat into the shadows of the garden to reach Jesus; and no doubt it was expected that Jesus would try to get away. But, instead of doing so, He shook Himself free from Judas and, coming forward at once into the moonlight, demanded, "Whom seek ye?" At this they were so startled that they reeled back and, stepping one on another, fell to the ground. Similar incidents are related of famous men. The Roman Marius, for instance, was in prison at Minturnae when Sylla sent orders that he should be put to death. A Gaulish slave was sent to dispatch him; but, at the sight of the man who had shaken the world, and who cried out, "Fellow, darest thou to slay Caius Marius?" the soldier threw down his weapon and fled.[4] There are many indications scattered through the Gospels that, especially in moments of high emotion, there was something extraordinarily subduing in the aspect and voice of Christ.[5] On the occasion, for example, when He cleared the temple, the hardened profaners of the place, though numerous and powerful, fled in terror before Him. And the striking notice of Him as He was going up to Jerusalem for the last time will be remembered: "Jesus went before them, and they were amazed; and, as they followed, they were afraid." On this occasion the emotion of Gethsemane was upon Him--the rapt sense of victory and of a mind steeled to go through with its purpose--and perhaps there remained on His face some traces of the Agony, which scared the onlookers. It is not necessary to suppose that there was anything preternatural, though part of the terror of His captors may have been the dread lest He should destroy them by a miracle. Evidently Judas was afraid of something of this kind when he said, "Take Him and lead Him away safely." The truth is, they were caught, instead of catching Him. It was a mean, treacherous errand they were on. They were employing a traitor as their guide. They expected to come upon Christ, perhaps when He was asleep, in silence and by stealth; or, if He were awake, they thought that they would have to pursue Him into a lurking-place, where they would find Him trembling and at bay. They were to surprise Him, but, when He came forth fearless, rapt and interrogative, He surprised them, and compelled them to take an altogether unexpected attitude. He brought all above board and put them to shame. How ridiculous now looked their cumbrous preparations--all these soldiers, the swords and staves, the torches and lanterns, now burning pale in the clear moonlight. Jesus made them feel it. He made them feel what manner of spirit they were of, and how utterly they had mistaken His views and spirit. "Whom seek ye?" He asked them again, to compel them to see that they were not taking Him, but that He was giving Himself up. He was completely master of the situation. Singling out the Sanhedrists, who probably at that moment would rather have kept in the background, He demanded, pointing to their excessive preparations, "Be ye come out as against a thief, with swords and staves? When I was daily with you in the temple, ye stretched forth no hands against Me." He, a solitary man, though He knew how many were against Him, had not been afraid: He taught daily in the temple--in the most public place, at the most public hour. But they, numerous and powerful as they were, yet were afraid, and so they had chosen the midnight hour for their nefarious purpose. "This is your hour," He said, "and the power of darkness." This midnight hour is your hour, because ye are sons of night, and the power ye wield against Me is the power of darkness. So spake the Lion of the tribe of Judah! So will He speak on that day when all His enemies shall be put under His feet. "Kiss the Son, lest He be angry, and ye perish from the way when His wrath is kindled but a little. Blessed are all they that put their trust in Him." III. We cannot recall to mind too often that it was the victory in the Garden that accounted for this triumph outside the gate. The irresistible dignity and strength here displayed were gained by watching and prayer. This, however, is made still more impressively clear by the fate of those who did not watch and pray. On them everything came as a blinding and bewildering surprise. They were aroused out of profound slumber, and came stumbling forward hardly yet awake. When hands were laid on Jesus, one of the disciples cried, "Shall we smite with the sword?" And, without waiting for an answer, he struck. But what a ridiculous blow! How like a man half-awake! Instead of the head, he only smote the ear. This blow would have been dearly paid for had not Jesus, with perfect presence of mind, interposed between Peter and the swords which were being drawn to cut him down. "Suffer ye thus far," He said, keeping the soldiers back; and, touching the ear, He healed it, and saved His poor disciple. Surely it was even with a smile that Jesus said to Peter, "Put up again thy sword into his place; for all they that take the sword shall perish with the sword." Inside the scabbard, not outside, was the sword's place; it was out of place in this cause; and those who wield the sword without just reason, and without receiving the orders of competent authority, are themselves liable to give life for life. But it was with the high-strung eloquence with which He had spoken to His enemies that Jesus further showed Peter how inconsistent was his act. It was inconsistent with his Master's dignity; "For," said He, "if I ask My Father, He would presently give Me more than twelve legions of angels;" and what against such a force were this miscellaneous band, numbering at the most the tenth part of a legion of men? It was inconsistent with Scripture: "How then shall the Scriptures be fulfilled, that thus it must be?" It was inconsistent with His own purpose and His Father's will: "The cup which My Father hath given Me, shall I not drink it?" Poor Peter! On this occasion he was thoroughly like himself. There was a kind of rightness and nobleness in what he did; but it was in the wrong place. If he had only been as prompt inside Gethsemane to do what he was bidden as outside it to do what he was not bidden! How much better if he could have drawn the spiritual sword and cut on the ear which was to be betrayed by a maid-servant's taunt! Peter's conduct on this occasion, as often on other occasions, showed how poor a guide enthusiasm is when it is not informed with the mind and spirit of Christ. IV. Perhaps it was by the recollection of how deeply he had vowed to stick by Christ, even if he should have to die with Him, that Peter was pricked on to do something. The others, however, had said the same thing. Did they remember it now? It is to be feared, not: the apparition of mortal danger drove everything out of their minds but the instinct of self-preservation. Sometimes, in cases of severe illness, especially of mental disease, the curious effect may be observed--that a face into which years of culture have slowly wrought the stamp of refinement and dignity entirely loses this, and reverts to the original peasant type. So the fright of their Master's arrest, coming so suddenly on the prayerless and unprepared disciples, undid, for the time, what their years of intercourse with Him had effected; and they sank back into Galilean fishermen again. This was really what they were from the arrest to the resurrection. Here again their conduct is in absolute contrast with their Master's. As a mother-bird, when her brood is assailed, goes forward to meet the enemy, or as a good shepherd stands forth between his flock and danger, so Jesus, when His captors drew nigh, threw Himself between them and His followers. It was partly with this in view that He went so boldly out and concentrated attention on Himself by the challenge, "Whom seek ye?" When they replied, "Jesus of Nazareth," He said, "I am He: if therefore ye seek Me, let these go their way." And the fright into which they were thrown made them forget His followers in their anxiety to secure Himself. This was as He intended. St. John, in narrating it, makes the curious remark, that this was done that the saying might be fulfilled which He spake, "Of them which Thou gavest Me have I lost none." This saying occurs in His great intercessory prayer, offered at the first Communion table; but in its original place it evidently means that He had lost none of them in a spiritual sense, whereas here it seems to have only the sense of losing any of them by the swords of the soldiers or by the cross, if they had been arrested with Him. But a deep hint underlies this surface meaning. St. John suggests that, if any of them had been taken along with Him, the likelihood is that they would have been unequal to the crisis: they would have denied Him, and so, in the sadder sense, would have been lost. Jesus, knowing too well that this was the state of the case, made for them a way of escape, and "they all forsook Him and fled." It was perhaps as well, for they might have done worse. Yet what an anticlimax to the asseveration which everyone of them had made that very evening, "If I should die with Thee, I will not deny Thee in any wise!" I have sometimes thought what an honour it would have been to Christianity, what a golden leaf in the history of human nature, had one or two of them--say, the brothers James and John--been strong enough to go with Him to prison and to death. We should, indeed, have missed St. John's writings in that case--his Revelation, Gospel and Epistles. But what a revelation that would have been, what a gospel, what a living epistle! It was not, however, to be. Jesus had to go unaccompanied: "I have trodden the winepress alone; and of the people there was none with Me." So they "bound Him and led Him away." [1] _Speira_=cohors, tenth part of legion. See Ramsay, R.A., 381. [2] _katephilesen_. It is used of the woman who was a sinner, when she kissed the feet of the Saviour. [3] Psalm lv. 13-14. [4] Other instances in Süskind, _Passionsschule_, _in loc_. [5] See fuller details in _Imago Christi_, last chapter. CHAPTER II. THE ECCLESIASTICAL TRIAL Over the Kedron, up the slope to the city, through the gates, along the silent streets, the procession passed, with Jesus in the midst; midnight stragglers, perhaps, hurrying forward from point to point to ask what was ado, and peering towards the Prisoner's face, before they diverged again towards their own homes.[1] He was conducted to the residence of the high priest, where His trial ensued. Jesus had to undergo two trials--the one ecclesiastical, the other civil; the one before Caiaphas the high priest, the other before Pontius Pilate the governor. The reason of this was, that Judaea was at that time under Roman rule, forming a portion of the Roman province of Syria and administered by a Roman official, who resided in the splendid new seaport of Caesarea, fifty miles away from Jerusalem, but had also a palace in Jerusalem, which he occasionally visited. It was not the policy of Rome to strip the countries of which she became mistress of all power. She flattered them by leaving in their hands at least the insignia of self-government, and she conceded to them as much home rule as was compatible with the retention of her paramount authority. She was specially tolerant in matters of religion. Thus the ancient ecclesiastical tribunal of the Jews, the Sanhedrim, was still allowed to try all religious questions and punish offenders. Only, if the sentence chanced to be a capital one, the case had to be re-tried by the governor, and the carrying out of the sentence, if it was confirmed, devolved upon him. It was at the instance of the ecclesiastical authorities that Jesus was arrested, and they condemned Him to death; but they were not at liberty to carry out their sentence: they had to take Him before Pilate, who chanced at the time to be in the city, and he tried the case over again, they of course being the accusers at his bar. Not only were there two trials, but in each trial there were three separate stages or acts. In the first, or ecclesiastical trial, Jesus had first to appear before Annas, then before Caiaphas and the Sanhedrim during the night, and again before the same body after daybreak. And in the second, or civil trial, He appeared first before Pilate, who refused to confirm the judgment of the Jews; then Pilate attempted to rid himself of the case by sending the Culprit to Herod of Galilee, who happened also to be at the time in Jerusalem; but the case came back to the Roman governor again, and, against his conscience, he confirmed the capital sentence. But let me explain more fully what were the three acts in the ecclesiastical trial.[2] Jesus, we are informed by St. John, was taken first to Annas. This was an old man of seventy years, who had been high priest twenty years before. As many as five of his sons succeeded him in this office, which at that period was not a life appointment, but was generally held only for a short time; and the reigning high priest at this time, Caiaphas, was his son-in-law. Annas was a man of very great consequence, the virtual head of ecclesiastical affairs, though Caiaphas was the nominal head. He had come originally from Alexandria in Egypt on the invitation of Herod the Great. He and his family were an able, ambitious and arrogant race. As their numbers multiplied, they became a sort of ruling caste, pushing themselves into all important offices. They were Sadducees, and were perfect types of that party--cold, haughty, worldly. They were intensely unpopular in the country; but they were feared as much as they were disliked. Greedy of gain, they ground the people with heavy ritual imposts. It is said that the traffic within the courts of the temple, which Jesus condemned so sternly a few days before, was carried on not only with their connivance but for their enrichment. If this was the case, the conduct of Jesus on that occasion may have profoundly incensed the high-priestly caste against Him. Indeed, it was probably the depth of his hatred which made Annas wish to see Jesus in the hands of justice. The wary Sadducee had in all likelihood taken a leading part in the transaction with Judas and in the sending out of the troops for Christ's apprehension. He, therefore, waited out of bed to see what the upshot was to be; and those who took Jesus brought Him to Annas first. But whatever interrogation Annas may have subjected Him to was entirely informal.[3] It allowed time, however, to get together the Sanhedrim. Messengers were dispatched to scour the city for the members at the midnight hour, because the case was urgent and could not brook delay. None knew what might happen if the multitude, when it awoke in the morning, found the popular Teacher in the hands of His unpopular enemies. But, if the trial were all over before daybreak and Jesus already in the strong hands of the Romans before the multitude had learnt that anything was going on, there would be nothing to fear. So the Sanhedrim was assembled under cloud of night; and the proceedings went forward in the small hours of the morning in the house of Caiaphas, to which Jesus had been removed. This was not strictly legal, however, because the letter of the law did not allow this court to meet by night. On this account, although the proceedings were complete and the sentence agreed upon during the night, it was considered necessary to hold another sitting at daybreak. This was the third stage of the trial; but it was merely a brief rehearsal, for form's sake, of what had been already done.[4] Therefore, we must return to the proceedings during the night, which contain the kernel of the matter. Imagine, then, a large room forming one side of the court of an Oriental house, from which it is separated only by a row of pillars, so that what is going on in the lighted interior is visible to those outside. The room is semicircular. Round the arc of the semicircle the half-hundred or more[5] members sit on a divan. Caiaphas, the president, occupies a kind of throne in the centre of the opposite wall. In front stands the Accused, facing him, with the jailers on the one side and the witnesses on the other. How ought any trial to commence? Surely with a clear statement of the crime alleged and with the production of witnesses to support the charge. But, instead of beginning in this way, "the high priest asked Jesus of His disciples and of His doctrine." The insinuation was that He was multiplying disciples for some secret design and teaching them a secret doctrine, which might be construed into a project of revolution. Jesus, still throbbing with the indignity of being arrested under cloud of night, as if He were anxious to escape, and by a force so large as to suggest that He was the head of a revolutionary band, replied, with lofty self-consciousness, "Why askest thou Me? Ask them that heard Me what I have said unto them; behold, they know what I said." Why had they arrested Him if they had yet to learn what He had said and done? They were trying to make Him out to be an underground schemer; but they, with their arrests in secrecy and their midnight trials, were themselves the sons of darkness. Such simple and courageous speech was alien to that place, which knew only the whining of suppliants, the smooth flatteries of sycophants, and the diplomatic phrases of advocates; and a jailer, perhaps seeing the indignant blush mount into the face of the high priest, clenched his fist and struck Jesus on the mouth, asking, "Answerest Thou the high priest so?" Poor hireling! better for him that his hand had withered ere it struck that blow. Almost the same thing once happened to St. Paul in the same place, and he could not help hurling back a stinging epithet of contempt and indignation. Jesus was betrayed into no such loss of temper. But what shall be said of a tribunal, and an ecclesiastical tribunal, which could allow an untried Prisoner to be thus abused in open court by one of its minions? The high priest had, however, been stopped on the tack which he had first tried, and was compelled to do what he ought to have begun with--to call witnesses. But this, too, turned out a pitiful failure. They had not had time to get a charge properly made out and witnesses cited; and there was no time to wait. Evidence had to be extemporized; and it was swept up apparently from the underlings and hangers on of the court. It is expressly said by St. Matthew that "they sought false witness against Jesus to put Him to death." To put Him to death was what in their hearts they were resolved upon,--they were only trying to trump up a legal pretext, and they were not scrupulous. The attempt was, however, far from successful. The witnesses could not be got to agree together or to tell a consistent story. Many were tried, but the fiasco grew more and more ridiculous. At length two were got to agree about something they had heard from Him, out of which, it was hoped, a charge could be constructed. They had heard Him say, "I will destroy this temple that is made with hands, and within three days I will build another made without hands." It was a sentence of His early ministry, obviously of high poetic meaning, which they were reproducing as the vulgarest prose; although, even thus interpreted, it is difficult to see what they could have made of it; because, if the first half of it meant that He was to destroy the temple, the second promised to restore it again. The high priest saw too well that they were making nothing of it; and, starting up and springing forward, he demanded of Jesus, "Answerest Thou nothing? What is it which these witness against Thee?" He affected to believe that it was something of enormity that had been alleged; but it was really because he knew that nothing could be founded on it that he gave way to such unseemly excitement. Jesus had looked on in absolute silence while the witnesses against Him were annihilating one another; nor did He now answer a word in response to the high priest's interruption. He did not need to speak: silence spoke better than the loudest words could have done. It brought home to His judges the ridiculousness and the shamefulness of their position. Even their hardened consciences began to be uneasy, as that calm Face looked down on them and their procedure with silent dignity. It was by the uneasiness which he was feeling that the high priest was made so loud and shrill. In short, he had been beaten along this second line quite as completely as he had been along the first. But he had still a last card, and now he played it. Returning to his throne and confronting Jesus with theatrical solemnity, he said, "I adjure Thee by the living God that Thou tell us whether Thou be the Christ, the Son of God." That is to say, he put Him on oath to tell what He claimed to be; for among the Jews the oath was pronounced by the judge, not by the prisoner. This was one of the great moments in the life of Christ. Apparently He recognised the right of the high priest to put Him on oath; or at least He saw that silence now might be construed into the withdrawal of His claims. He knew, indeed, that the question was put merely for the purpose of incriminating Him, and that to answer it meant death to Himself. But He who had silenced those by whom the title of Messiah had been thrust upon Him, when they wished to make Him a king, now claimed the title when it was the signal for condemnation. Decidedly and solemnly He answered, "Yes, I am"; and, as if the crisis had caused within Him a great access of self-consciousness, He proceeded, "Hereafter shall ye see the Son of Man sitting on the right hand of power and coming in the clouds of heaven." [6] For the moment they were His judges, but one day He would be their Judge; it was only of His earthly life that they could dispose, but He would have to dispose of their eternal destiny. It has often been said that Christians have claimed for Christ what He never claimed for Himself; that He never claimed to be any more than a man, but they have made Him a God. But this great statement, made upon oath, must impress every honest mind. Every effort has, indeed, been made to deplete its terms of their importance and to reduce them to the lowest possible value. It is argued, for example, that, when the high priest asked if He were "the Son of God," he meant no more than when he asked if He were "the Christ." But what is to be said of Christ's description of Himself as "sitting on the right hand of power and coming in the clouds of heaven"? Can He who is to be the Judge of men, searching their hearts to the bottom, estimating the value of their performances, and, in accordance with these estimates, fixing their eternal station and degree, be a mere man? The greatest and the wisest of men are well aware that in the history of every brother man, and even in the heart of a little child, there are secrets and mysteries which they cannot fathom. No mere man can accurately measure the character of a fellow-creature; he cannot even estimate his own. How this great confession lifts the whole scene! We see no longer these small men and their sordid proceedings; but the Son of man bearing witness to Himself in the audience of the universe. How little we care now what the Jewish judges will say about Him! This great confession reverberates down the ages, and the heart of the world, as it hears it from His lips, says, Amen. The high priest had achieved his end at last. As a high priest was expected to do when he heard blasphemy, he rent his clothes, and, turning to his colleagues, he said, "What need have we of witnesses? behold, now ye have heard His blasphemy." And they all assented that Jesus was guilty, and that the sentence must be death. Sometimes good-hearted Bible-readers, in perusing these scenes, are troubled with the thought that the judges of Jesus were conscientious. Was it not their duty, when anyone came forward with Messianic pretensions, to judge whether or not his claim was just? and did they not honestly believe that Jesus was not what He professed to be? No doubt they did honestly believe so. We must ascend to a much earlier period to be able to judge their conduct accurately. It was when the claims of Jesus were first submitted to them that they went astray. He, being such as He was, could only have been welcomed and appreciated by expectant, receptive, holy minds. The ecclesiastical authorities of Judaea in that age were anything but expectant, receptive and holy. They were totally incapable of understanding Him, and saw no beauty that they should desire Him. As He often told them Himself, being such as they were, they could not believe. The fault lay not so much in what they did as in what they were. Being in the wrong path, they went forward to the end. It may be said that they walked according to their light; but the light that was in them was darkness. Their proceedings, however, on this occasion will not tend to soften the heart of anyone who looks into them carefully. They had hardly the least show of justice. There was no regular charge or regular evidence, and no thought whatever of allowing the Accused to bring counter-evidence; the same persons were both accusers and judges; the sentence was a foregone conclusion; and the entire proceedings consisted of a series of devices to force the Accused into some statement which would supply a colourable pretext for condemning Him.[7] But it was by what ensued after the sentence of condemnation was passed that these men cut themselves off forever from the sympathy of the tolerant and generous. A court of law ought to be a place of dignity; when a great issue is tried and a solemn judgment passed, it ought to impress the judges themselves; even the condemned, when a death sentence has been passed, ought to be hedged round with a certain awe and respect. But that blow inflicted with impunity at the commencement of the trial by a minion of the court was too clear an index of the state of mind of all present. There was no solemnity or greatness of any kind in their thoughts; nothing but resentment and spite at Him who had thwarted and defied them, lessened them in the public estimation and stopped their unholy gains. A perfect sea of such feelings had long been gathering in their hearts; and now, when the opportunity came, it broke loose upon Him. They struck Him with their sticks; they spat in His face; they drew something over His head and, smiting Him again, cried, "Christ, prophesy who smote Thee." [8] One would wish to believe that it was only by the miserable underlings that such things were done; but the narrative makes it too clear that the masters led the way and the servants followed. There are terrible things in man. There are some depths in human nature into which it is scarcely safe to look. It was by the very perfection of Christ that the uttermost evil of His enemies was brought out. There is a passage in "Paradise Lost," where a band of angels, sent out to scour Paradise in search of Satan, who is hidden in the garden, discover him in the shape of a toad "squat at the ear of Eve." Ithuriel, one of the band, touches him with his spear, whereat, surprised, he starts up in his own shape,-- "for no falsehood can endure Touch of celestial temper, but returns Of force to its own likeness." But the touch of perfect goodness has often the opposite effect: it transforms the angel into the toad, which is evil's own likeness. Christ was now getting into close grips with the enemy He had come to this world to overcome; and, as it clutched Him for the final wrestle, it exhibited all its ugliness and discharged all its venom.[9] The claw of the dragon was in His flesh, and its foul breath in His mouth. We cannot conceive what such insult and dishonour must have been to His sensitive and regal mind. But He rallied His heart to endure and not to faint; for He had come to be the death of sin, and its death was to be the salvation of the world. [1] Here would come in the curious little notice in St. Mark: "And there followed Him a certain young man, having a linen cloth cast about his naked body; and the young men laid hold on him; and he left the linen cloth and fled from them naked"; on which I have not commented, not well knowing, in truth, what to make of it. It may be designed to show the rudeness of the soldiery, and the peril in which any follower of Jesus would have been had he been caught. Some have supposed that the young man was St. Mark, and that this is the painter's signature in an obscure corner of his picture. (See Holzmann in _Handcommentar zum Neuen Testament_.) In the first volume of the _Expositor_ there is a paper on the subject by Dr. Cox, but it does not throw much light on it. [2] On the Sanhedrim and the high priests see Schürer, _The Jewish People in the Time of Christ_, div. ii., vol. i. [3] This, many think, is what is given in St. John. [4] Many think that this is what is given in St. Luke. [5] The full number was seventy-one, including the president. [6] See Psalm cx. 1, and Dan. vii. 13. [7] Even Jost, the Jewish historian, calls it a murder; but he does not believe that there was an actual trial; and in this Edersheim agrees with him. [8] In allusion to His claim to be the Messianic Prophet. The Roman soldiers, on the other hand, ridiculed His claim to be a King. [9] "The central figure is the holiest Person in history, but round Him stand or strive the most opposed and contrasted moral types. . . . The men who touch Him in this supreme hour of His history do so only to have their essential character disclosed."--FAIRBAIRN. CHAPTER III. THE GREAT DENIAL To the ecclesiastical trial of our Lord there is a side-piece, over which we must linger before proceeding to the civil trial. At the very hour when in the hall of the high priest's house Christ was uttering His great confession, one of His disciples was, in the court of the same building, pouring out denial after denial. I. When Jesus was bound in Gethsemane and led away back to Jerusalem, all His disciples forsook Him and fled. They disappeared, I suppose, among the bushes and trees of the garden and escaped into the surrounding country or wherever they thought they would be safe. But two of the Twelve--St. Peter and St. John, who tells the story--soon rallied from the first panic and followed, at a distance,[1] the band in whose midst their Master was. Keeping in the shadow of the trees by the roadside, keeping in the shadow of the houses in the streets, they stole after the moving mass. At last, when it got near its destination--the palace of the high priest---they hurried forward; and St. John went in with the crowd; but somehow, probably through irresolution, St. Peter was left outside in the street; and the door was shut. To understand what follows, it is necessary to describe more in detail the construction of such a house as the high priest's palace; for it was very unlike most of our houses. A Western house looks into the street, but an Oriental into its own interior, having no opening to the front except a great arched gateway, shut with a heavy door or gate. When this door is opened, it discloses a broad passage, penetrating the front building and leading into a square, paved courtyard, open to the sky, round which the house is built, and into which its rooms, both upstairs and downstairs, look. A similar arrangement is to be seen in some large warehouses in our own cities, or you may have seen it in large hotels on the Continent. It only requires to be added that on the side of the passage, inside the outer gate, there is a room or lodge for the porter or portress, who opens and shuts the gate; and in the gate there is a little wicket by which individuals can be let in or out. When the band conducting Jesus appeared in front of the palace, no doubt the portress opened the large gate to admit them and then shut it again. They passed under the archway into the court, which they crossed, and then entered one of the apartments overlooking the courtyard. But the police and other underlings employed in the arrest, their work being now done, stayed outside, and, as it was midnight and the weather was cold, they lighted a fire there under the open sky and, gathering round it, began to warm themselves. As has been said, John went in through the gate with the crowd, but Peter was somehow shut out. John, who seems to have occupied a higher social position than the rest of the Twelve, was known to the high priest, and, therefore, probably was acquainted with the palace and knew the servants; and, when he noticed that Peter had been left out, he went to the portress and got her to let him in by the wicket-gate. It was a friendly act; and yet, as the event proved, it was unintentionally an ill turn: John led Peter into temptation. The best of friends may do this sometimes to one another; for the situation into which one man may enter without peril may be dangerous to another. One man may mingle freely in company which another cannot enter without terrible risks. There are amusements in which one Christian can take part, though they would ruin another if he touched them. A mind matured and disciplined may read books which would kindle the fire of hell in a mind less experienced. There are always two things that go to the making of a temptation: there is the particular set of circumstances to be encountered on the one hand, and there is the peculiar character or history of the person entering into the situation on the other. We need to remember this if we are to defend either ourselves or others against temptation. II. John no doubt, as soon as he got Peter inside the door, hurried away across the court into the hall where Jesus was, to witness the proceedings. Not so Peter. He was not familiar with the place as John was; and he had the shyness of a plain man at the sight of the inside of a great house. Besides, he was under fear of being recognized as a follower of Christ and apprehended. Now also the unlucky blow he had made at Malchus at the gate of Gethsemane had to be paid for, because it greatly increased his chance of detection. He remained, therefore, just inside the great door, watching from the shadows of the archway what was going on inside, and, without knowing it, himself being watched by the portress from her coigne of vantage. He was ill at ease; for he did not know what to do. He did not dare to go, like John, into the judgment-hall. Perhaps he half wished he could get out into the street again. He was in a trap. At last he strolled forward to the group round the fire and, sitting down among them, commenced to warm himself. It was a miscellaneous group there in the glare of the fire, and no notice was taken of him. He took his place as if he were one of them. It was, however, a dangerous situation in another sense than he supposed. It was of bodily peril he was in terror; he did not anticipate danger to his soul; yet this was very near. It is always dangerous when a follower of Christ is sitting among Christ's enemies without letting it be known what he is. "Blessed is the man that walketh not in the counsel of the ungodly, nor standeth in the way of sinners, nor sitteth in the seat of the scornful." It is more than probable that when Peter sat down the air was ringing with jest and laughter about Jesus; but he did not interrupt: he kept silence and tried to look as like one of the scorners as he could. But not to confess Christ is the next step to denying Him. Temptation, as is its wont, came suddenly and from the most unexpected quarter. As has been said, when he was skulking beneath the archway, his movements were noted by the portress. They were suspicious, and she, with a woman's cleverness, divined his secret. Accordingly, when she was relieved at her post by another maid, she not only pointed him out to this companion and communicated to her what she thought about him, but, in passing to her room, she went up to the fire among the soldiers and, looking him straight in the face, said, with a malicious twinkle in her eye, This is one of the Nazarene's followers. Peter was taken completely by surprise. It was as if a mask had been torn from his face. In a moment the instinct of terror seized him; perhaps, too, the instinct of shame at being thought a disciple of Him they were mocking. Indeed, there was a further shame: how could he confess himself the disciple of the Master whom he had heard blasphemed without protest? He had denied his Master in act before he denied Him in word; and the preceding act made the word also necessary. "I do not know what you mean," he said, with a surly frown; and away she tripped laughing, having done her work quite successfully. None pursued the subject. But Peter was uneasy, and took the earliest opportunity of escaping from the fireside. He went away into the archway, intending apparently, if he could, to get out of the place altogether. But here the trap was closed; for the other maid, whose attention had been directed to him, and who may have been laughing from a distance at her neighbour's sally, was standing at the door of her lodge, with two or three men; and, pointing him out to them as he came forward, she said, "That is one of the Nazarene's followers." Poor Peter! felled to the ground a second time by the touch of a woman's hand. But how often has the saucy tongue and jeering laugh of a woman made a man ashamed of the highest and holiest! Peter flung at her an angry oath and, turning on his heel, went back again to the fire. He was now completely panic-stricken, and lost all self-control. He was boiling with conflicting emotions and could not keep quiet. Assuming an air of defiance and indifference, he plunged into the conversation, speaking loudly to throw off suspicion, but really defeating his own object; for he drew attention on himself, and they scanned him the more narrowly the more excited he became. A relative of Malchus, whose ear he had cut off, recognised him. His loud country voice and rough Galilean accent aroused the suspicions of others. To bait such a pretender was a welcome diversion in the idle night, and soon they were all in full cry after the quarry. Peter was thoroughly lost; like a bull in the arena attacked and stabbed on every side, he became blind with rage, terror and shame; and, pouring out denials, he added to them oaths and curses hurled at his adversaries. The latter element was, no doubt, the resurrection of an old fisherman's habit, long since dead and buried. Peter was just the man likely to be a profane swearer in his youth--the headlong man of temper, who likes to say a thing with as much emphasis and exaggeration as possible. This is a sin whose power is generally broken instantly at conversion. While there are sins which linger on for years and require to be crucified by inches, profane swearing often dies an instantaneous death. But even in this case it is difficult to get quit of the evil past. In Peter this sin may have seemed to die at his conversion; for years it had been dead and buried; yet, when the favourable moment came, lo and behold, there it was again in vigorous life. Old habits of sin are hard to kill. We seem to have killed and buried them; but do you not sometimes hear a knocking beneath the ground? do you not feel the dead thing turning in its coffin, and see the earth moving above its grave? This is the penalty of the days given to the flesh. Till his dying day the man who has been a drunkard or a fornicator, a liar or a swearer, will have to keep watch and ward over the graveyard in which he has buried the past. Yet there was a kind of method in the madness of Peter's profanity. When he wanted to prove that he was none of Christ's, he could not do better than take to cursing. They did not credit his assertions that he had no connection with his Master, but they could not help believing his sins. Nobody belonging to Jesus, they knew, would speak as Peter was doing. It is one of the strongest testimonies to Jesus still, that even those who do not believe in Him expect cleanness of speech and of conduct from His followers, and are astonished if those who bear His name do things which when done by others are matters of course. IV. While Peter was in the midst of this outbreak of denial and profanity, suddenly he saw the eyes of his tormentors turned away from him to another object.[2] It was Jesus, whom His enemies had condemned in the neighbouring judgment-hall, and whom they were now leading, amidst blows and reproaches, across the courtyard to the guard-room, where He was to be kept for two or three hours till a subsequent stage of His trial came on. As Jesus stepped down out of the hall into the courtyard, His ear had caught the accents of His disciple, and, stung with unutterable anguish, He turned quickly round in the direction whence the sounds proceeded. At the same moment Peter turned, and they looked one another full in the face. Jesus did not speak; for a single syllable, even of surprise, would have betrayed His disciple. Nor could He linger; for the soldiers were hurrying Him on. But for a single instant their eyes met, and soul looked into soul. Who shall say what was in that look of Christ?[3] There may be a world in a look. It may be more eloquent than a whole volume of words. It may reveal far more than the lips can ever utter. One soul may give itself away to another in a look. A look may beatify or plunge in the depths of despair. The look of Jesus was a talisman dissolving the spell in which Peter was held. Sin is always a kind of temporary madness; and it was manifestly so in this case. Peter was so bewildered with terror, anger and excitement that he did not know what he was doing. But the look of Jesus brought him to himself, and immediately he acted like a man. He made at once for the exit with impetuous speed.[4] And now nothing stood in his way: he got past the maid and her companions without trouble. For, indeed, the trap of temptation is only an illusion. To a resolute man it presents no obstacles. But further, the look of Christ was a mirror in which Peter saw himself. He saw what Christ thought of him. The past came rushing back. He was the man who, in a great and never-to-be-forgotten moment, had confessed Christ and earned His hearty recognition. He was the man who, a few hours ago, had vowed, above all the rest, that he never would deny his Master. And now he had deserted Him and wounded Him to the heart in His utmost need. He had placed himself among His enemies as one of themselves and, with oaths and curses, trodden His sacred name beneath his feet. He had put off the disciple and reverted to the rudeness of his godless youth. He was a perjured traitor. All this was in that look of Christ. But there was far more in it. It was a rescuing look. If any friend had met Peter rushing out from the scene of his sin, he might well have been terrified for what might happen. Where was he rushing to? Was it to the precipice over which Judas plunged not many hours afterwards? Peter was not very far from that. Had it been an angry look he saw on Christ's face when their eyes met, this might have been his fate. But there was not a spark of anger in it. There was pain, no doubt, and there was immeasurable disappointment. But deeper than these--rising up from below them and submerging them--there was the Saviour's instinct, that instinct which made Him reach out His hand and grasp Peter when he was sinking in the sea. With this same instinct He grasped Him now. In that look of an instant Peter saw forgiveness and unutterable love. If he saw himself in it, he saw still more his Saviour--such a revelation of the heart of Christ as he had never yet known. He saw now what kind of Master he had denied; and it broke his heart. It is this that always breaks the heart. It is not our sin that makes us weep; it is when we see what kind of Saviour we have sinned against. He wept bitterly; not to wash out his sin, but because even already he knew it had been washed out. The former weeping is a pelting shower; this is the close, prolonged downpour, which penetrates deep and fertilises the plants of the soul at their very roots. Indeed, this was the real beginning of all the good St. Peter was to do in the world. But we will not speak of this now. Let our last thought be of Him who, in the crisis and extremity of His own suffering, when He heard His name not only denied but mingled with oaths and curses, yielded not one moment to the resentment which such an act of treachery might have occasioned, but, forgetting His own sorrows and overmastered with the instincts of the Saviour, threw into a look such a world of kindness and of love that, in an instant, it lifted the falling disciple from the gulf and set him on the rock where he ever afterwards stood, himself a rock in the constancy of his faith and the vigor of his testimony. [1] _makrothen _. [2] It is to St. Luke we owe the account here given of Peter's awakening; but he also refers to the crowing of the cock, the only cause mentioned by the other Evangelists. There is no difficulty in understanding that such a psychological crisis may have been due to two lines of suggestion. [3] Mrs. Browning's sonnets on this subject must be quoted in full: "Two sayings of the Holy Scriptures beat Like pulses in the Church's brow and breast; And by them we find rest in our unrest, And, heart-deep in salt tears, do yet entreat God's fellowship, as if on heavenly seat. The first is JESUS WEPT; whereon is prest Full many a sobbing face, that drops its best And sweetest waters on the record sweet. And one is where the Christ, denied and scorned, LOOKED UPON PETER. Oh to render plain, By help of having loved a little and mourned, That look of sovran love and sovran pain, Which He, who could not sin yet suffered, turned On him who could reject but not sustain. "The Saviour looked on Peter. Ay, no word, No gesture of reproach; the heavens serene, Though heavy with armed justice, did not lean Their thunders that way; the forsaken Lord _Looked_ only on the traitor. None record What that look was; none guess; for those who have seen Wronged lovers loving through a death-pang keen, Or pale-cheeked martyrs smiling to a sword, Have missed Jehovah at the judgment call. And Peter from the height of blasphemy-- 'I never knew this man'--did quail and fall, As knowing straight THAT GOD; and turnèd free, And went out speechless from the face of all, And filled the silence, weeping bitterly. I think: that look of Christ might seem to say: 'Thou, Peter! art thou a common stone Which I at last must break My heart upon, For all God's charge to His high angels may Guard My feet better? Did I yesterday Wash _thy_ feet, My beloved, that they should run Quick to destroy me 'neath the morning sun? And do thy kisses, like the rest, betray? The cock crows coldly. Go, and manifest A late contrition, but no bootless fear! For, when thy final need is dreariest, Thou shall not be denied, as I am here; My voice to God and angels shall attest, _Because I KNOW this man, let him be clear_.'" [4] This may be the meaning of _epibalon_; but it is much disputed. Other interpretations are: (1) = _epeballe klaiein_, he began to weep; (2) with head covered--in mourning. CHAPTER IV. THE CIVIL TRIAL In the chapter before last we saw the Sanhedrim pass a death sentence on Jesus. Gladly would they have carried it out in the Jewish fashion--by stoning. But, as was then explained, it was not in their power: their Roman masters, while conceding to the native courts the power of trying and punishing minor offences, reserved to themselves the prerogative of life and death; and a case in which a capital sentence had been passed in a Jewish court had to go before the representative of Rome in the country, who tried it over again, and might either confirm or reverse the sentence. Accordingly, after passing sentence on Jesus themselves, the Sanhedrists had to lead Him away to the tribunal of the governor. I. The representative of Imperial Rome in Palestine at this time was Pontius Pilate. The position which he held may perhaps be best realised by thinking of one of our own subordinate governors in India; with the difference, however, that it was a heathen, not a Christian power, that Pilate represented, and that it was the spirit of ancient Rome, not that of modern England, which inspired his administration. Of this spirit--the spirit of worldliness, diplomacy and expediency--he was a typical exponent; and we shall see how true to it he proved on this momentous day.[1] Pilate had occupied his position for a good many years; yet he neither liked his subjects nor they him. The Jews were among the most intractable and difficult of all the states which the officials of Rome had to manage. Mindful of the glory of their ancient history, and still cherishing the hope of universal empire, they were impatient of the yoke of subordination; they were constantly discovering in the conduct of their rulers insults directed against their dignity or their religion; they complained of the heavy taxation and pestered their rulers with petitions. Pilate had not got on at all well with them. Between him and them there was no sympathy. He hated their fanaticism. In his quarrels with them, which were frequent, he had freely shed their blood. They accused him of corruption, cruelty, robbery, and maladministration of every description. The residence of the governor was not in Jerusalem, in which no one accustomed to the pleasures of Rome--its theatres, baths, games, literature and society--could desire to live, but in the new coast city of Caesarea, which in its splendour and luxury was a sort of small imitation of Rome. Occasionally, however, the governor had to visit the capital for business reasons; and usually as on this occasion, he did so at the time of the Passover. When there, he took up his residence in what had formerly been the royal palace while Judaea still had a king. It had been built by Herod the Great, who had a passion for architecture; and it was situated on the hill to the south-west of the one on which the temple stood. It was a splendid building,[2] rivalling the temple itself in appearance, and so large as to be capable of containing a small army. It consisted of two colossal wings, springing forward on either side, and a connecting building between. In front of the latter stretched a broad pavement; and here, in the open air, on a raised platform, was the scene of the trial; because the Jewish authorities would not enter the building, which to them was unclean. Pilate had to yield to their scruples, though probably cursing them in his heart. But, indeed, it was quite common for the Romans to hold courts of justice in the open air. The front of the palace, all round, was supported by massive pillars, forming broad, shady colonnades; and round the building there extended a park, with walks, trees and ponds, where fountains cast their sparkling jets high into the sunshine and flocks of tame doves plumed their feathers at the water's edge. Through the huge gateway, then, of this palatial residence, the Jewish authorities, with their Prisoner in their midst, came pouring in the early morning. Pilate came out to receive them and seated himself on his chair of state, with his secretaries beside him, and behind him, no doubt, numbers of bronzed Roman soldiers with their stolid looks and upright spears. The Accused would have to ascend the platform, too; and over against Him stood His accusers, with Caiaphas at their head. What a spectacle was that! The heads of the Jewish nation leading their own Messiah in chains to deliver Him up to a Gentile governor, with the petition that He should be put to death! Shades of the heroes and the prophets, who loved this nation and boasted of it and foretold its glorious fate, the hour of destiny has come, and this is the result! It was an act of national suicide. But was it not more? Was it not the frustration of the purpose and the promise of God? So it certainly appeared to be. Yet He is not mocked. Even through human sin His purpose holds on its way. The Jews brought the Son of God to Pilate's judgment-seat, that both Jew and Gentile might unite in condemning Him; for it was part of the work of the Redeemer to expose human sin, and here was to be exhibited the _ne plus ultra_ of wickedness, as the hand of humanity was lifted up against its Maker. And yet that death was to be the life of humanity; and Jesus, standing between Jew and Gentile, was to unite them in the fellowship of a common salvation. "Oh the depth both of the wisdom and knowledge of God! How unsearchable are His judgments, and His ways past finding out!" II. Pilate at once demanded what was the accusation which they brought against the Prisoner. The reply was a characteristic one, "If He were not a malefactor, we would not have delivered Him up unto thee." This was as broad a hint as they could give that they desired the governor to waive his right to re-try the case, accepting their trial of it as sufficient, and content himself with the other half of his prerogative--the passing and the execution of the sentence. Sometimes provincial governors did so, either through indolence or out of compliment to the native authorities; and especially in a religious cause, which a foreigner could not be expected to understand, such a compliment might seem a boon which it was not unreasonable to ask. But Pilate was not in a yielding mood, and retorted, "Take ye Him and judge Him according to your law." This was as much as to say: If I am not to hear the case, then I will neither pass the sentence nor inflict the punishment; if you insist on this being a case for yourselves as ecclesiastics, then keep it to yourselves; but, if you do, you must be content with such a punishment as the law permits you to inflict. To them this was gall and wormwood, because it was for the life of Christ they were thirsting, and they well knew that imprisonment or beating with rods was as far as they could go. The cold, keen Roman, as proud as themselves, was making them feel the pressure of Rome's foot on their neck, and he enjoyed a malicious pleasure in extorting from them the complaint, "It is not lawful for us to put any man to death." Forced against their will and their expectation to formulate a charge, they began to pour forth many vehement accusations; out of which at length three emerged with some distinctness--first, that He was perverting the nation; second, that He forbade to pay the imperial tribute; and third, that He set Himself up as a king. It will be observed that they never mentioned the charge on which they had condemned Him themselves. It was for none of these three things that they had condemned Him, but for blasphemy. They knew too well, however, that if they advanced such a charge in this place, the likelihood was that it would be sneered out of court. It will be remembered how a Roman governor, mentioned in the life of St. Paul, dealt with such a charge: "Gallio said unto the Jews, If it were a matter of wrong or wicked lewdness, O ye Jews, reason would that I should bear with you; but, if it be a question of words and names, and of your law, look ye to it; for I will be no judge of such matters. And he drave them from the judgment-seat." [3] And, although of course Pilate could not have dared to exhibit the same cynical disdain for what he would have called Jewish superstition, yet they knew that it was in his heart. But their inability to bring forward the real charge put them in a false position, the dangers of which they did not escape. They had to extemporise crimes, and they were not scrupulous about it. Their first charge--that Jesus was perverting the nation[4]--was vague. But what are we to say of the second--that He forbade to pay the imperial tribute? When we remember His reply that very week to the question whether or not it was lawful to pay tribute--"Render unto Caesar the things which are Caesar's, and unto God the things which are God's"--it looks very like a deliberate falsehood.[5] There was more colour in their third statement--that He said He was Christ a King--for He had at their tribunal solemnly avowed Himself to be the Christ. Yet, in this case, also, they were well aware that to the ear of a Roman the claim that He was a king would convey a different meaning from that conveyed to their ears by the claim to be the Christ. Indeed, at bottom their objection to Him was just that He did not sufficiently claim to be a king in the Roman sense. They were eagerly looking for a king, of splendour and military renown, to break the Roman yoke and make Jerusalem the capital of a worldwide empire; and it was because the spirit and aims of Jesus were alien to such ambitions that they despised and hated Him. Pilate understood perfectly well with whom he was dealing. He could only be amused with their zeal for the payment of the Roman tribute. One of the Evangelists says, "He knew that for envy they had delivered Him." How far he was already acquainted with the career of Jesus we cannot tell. He had been governor all the time of the movement inaugurated by the Baptist and continued by Christ, and he can hardly have remained in entire ignorance of it. The dream of his wife, which we shall come to soon, seems to prove that Jesus had already been a theme of conversation in the palace; and perhaps the tedium of a visit to Jerusalem may have been relieved for the governor and his wife by the story of the young Enthusiast who was bearding the fanatic priests. Pilate displays, all through, a real interest in Jesus and a genuine respect. This was no doubt chiefly due to what he himself saw of His bearing at his tribunal; but it may also have been partly due to what he had already heard about Him. At all events there is no indication that he took the charges against Jesus seriously. The two first he seems never to have noticed; but the third--that He was setting Himself up as a king, who might be a rival to the emperor--was not such as he could altogether pass by. III. Pilate, having heard the accusations, took Jesus inside the palace to investigate them. This he did, no doubt, for the purpose of getting rid of the importunity of His accusers, which was extreme. And Jesus made no scruple, as they had done, about entering the palace. Shall we say that the Jews had rejected Him, and He was turning to the Gentiles--that the wall of partition had now fallen, and that He was trampling over its ruins? In the silence, then, of this interior hall He and Pilate stood face to face--He in the prisoner's lonely place, Pilate in the place of power. Yet how strangely, as we now look back at the scene, are the places reversed! It is Pilate who is going to be tried--Pilate and Rome, which he represented. All that morning Pilate was being judged and exposed; and ever since he has stood in the pillory of history with the centuries gazing at him.[6] In the old pictures of the Child Christ by the great masters a halo proceeds from the Babe that lights up the surrounding figures, sometimes with dazzling effect. And it is true that on all who approached Christ, when He was in the world, there fell a light in which both the good and the evil in them were revealed. It was a search-light, that penetrated into every corner and exposed every wrinkle. Men were judged as they came near Him. Is it not so still? We never show so entirely what is in us as by the way in which we are affected by Christ. We are judging ourselves and passing sentence on ourselves for eternity by the way in which we deal with Him. Pilate asked Him, "Art Thou the King of the Jews?" referring to the third charge brought against Him. The reply of Jesus was cautious; it was another question: "Sayest thou this of thyself, or did others tell it thee of Me?" He desired to learn in what sense the question was asked--whether from the standpoint of a Roman or from that of the Jews; because of course His answer would be different according as He was asked whether He was a king as a Roman would understand the word or according as it was understood by the Jews. But this answer nettled Pilate, perhaps because it assumed that he might have more interest in the case than he cared to confess; and he said angrily, "Am I a Jew? Thine own nation and the chief priests have delivered Thee unto me." If he intended this to sting, the blow did not fail of its mark. Ah, tingling shame and poignant pain! His own nation--His own beloved nation, to which He had devoted His life--had given Him up to the Gentile. He felt a shame for it before the foreigner such as a slave on the block may feel before her purchaser for the father and the family that have sold her into disgrace. Jesus at once proceeded, however, to answer Pilate's question on both sides, both on the Roman political and then on the Jewish religious side. First, He answered negatively, "My kingdom is not of this world!" He was no rival of the Roman emperor. If He had been, the first thing He must have done would have been to assemble soldiers about Him for the purpose of freeing the country from the Roman occupation, and the very first duty of these soldiers would have been to defend the person of their king; but it could be proved that at His arrest there had been no fighting on His behalf, and that He had ordered the one follower who had drawn a sword to sheathe it again. It was not a kingdom of force and arms and worldly glory He had in view. Yet, even in making this denial, Jesus had used the words, "My kingdom." And Pilate broke in, "Art Thou a king then?" "Yes," replied Jesus; "to this end was I born, and for this cause came I into the world, that I should bear witness unto the truth." This was His kingdom--the realm of Truth. It differs widely from that of Caesar. Caesar's empire is over the bodies of men; this is over their hearts. The strength of Caesar's empire is in soldiers, arms, citadels and navies; the strength of this kingdom is in principles, sentiments, ideas. The benefit secured by Caesar to the citizens is external security for their persons and properties; the blessings of Christ's kingdom are peace of conscience and joy in the Holy Ghost. The empire of Caesar, vast as it was, yet was circumscribed; the kingdom of Christ is without limits, and is destined to be established in every land. Caesar's empire, like every other earthly kingdom, had its day and passed out of existence; but the kingdom of Truth shall last for evermore. It has been remarked that there was something Western rather than Oriental in this sublime saying of Christ. What a noble-minded Jew longed for above all things was righteousness; but what a noble-minded Gentile aspired after was truth. There were some spirits, in that age, even among the heathen, in whom the mention of a kingdom of truth or wisdom would have struck a responsive chord. Jesus was feeling to see whether there was in this man's soul any such longing. He approached still nearer him when He added the searching remark, "Every one that is of the truth heareth My voice;" for it was a hint that, if he loved the truth, he must believe in Him. Jesus preached to His judge. Just as the prisoner Paul made Felix the judge tremble, and Agrippa the judge cry out, "Almost thou persuadest me to be a Christian," so Jesus, with the instinct of the preacher and the Saviour, was feeling for Pilate's conscience. He who fishes for the souls of men must use many angles; and on this occasion Jesus selected a rare one. There will always be some who, though common appeals do not touch them, yet respond to this delicate appeal. Is truth a magic word to you? do you thirst for wisdom? There are those to whom the prizes which the majority strive for are as dross. The race for wealth, the pride of life, the distinctions of society--you laugh at them and pity them. But a golden page of a favourite poet, a thought newly minted in the glowing heat of a true thinker's mind, a pregnant word that sets your fancy ranging through eternity, a luminous doctrine that rises on the intellectual horizon like a star,--these are your wealth. You feel keenly the darkness of the world, and are perplexed by a hundred problems. Child and lover of wisdom, do you know the King of Truth? This is He who can satisfy your craving for light and lead you out of the maze of speculation and error. But is it true, as He says here, that everyone who is of the truth heareth His voice? Is not the world at present full of men and women who are in search of truth, yet pass Christ by? It is a very strong word He uses; it is, "every one who has been born of the truth." Have you actually clambered on Truth's knees, and clung to her neck, and fed at her breast? There are many who seek truth earnestly with the intellect, but do not desire it to rule their conduct or purify their heart. But only those who seek truth with their whole being are her true children; and to these the voice of Christ, when it is discerned, is like the sunrise to the statue of Memnon or as the call of spring to the responsive earth. Alas! Pilate was no such man. He was incapable of spiritual aspiration; he was of the earth earthy; he sought for nothing which the eye cannot see or the hand handle. To him a kingdom of truth and a king of truth were objects of fairyland or castles in the air. "What is truth?" he asked; but, as he asked, he turned on his heel, and did not wait for an answer. He asked only as a libertine might ask, What is virtue? or a tyrant, What is freedom? But he was clearly convinced that Jesus was innocent. He judged Him to be an amiable enthusiast, from whom Rome had nothing to fear. So he went out and pronounced His acquittal: "I find in Him no fault at all." [1] On Pilate there is an essay of extraordinary subtlety and power in Candlish's _Scripture Characters_. [2] An eloquent account in Keim (vi., p. 80, English tr.), who gives the authorities: "in part a tyrant's stronghold, and in part a fairy pleasure-house." [3] Acts xviii. 14-16. [4] _ethnos_, not _laos_: they were speaking to a heathen. [5] Keim calls it "a very flagrant lie." [6] "Socrates, quum omnium sapientissime sanctissimeque vixisset, ita in judicio capitis pro se dixit, ut non supplex aut reus, sed magister aut dominus videretur judicum."--CICERO. CHAPTER V. JESUS AND HEROD Pilate had tried Jesus and found Him innocent; and so he frankly told the members of the Sanhedrim, thereby reversing their sentence. What ought to have followed? Of course Jesus ought to have been released and, if necessary, protected from the feeling of the Jews. Why was this not what happened? An incident in the life of Pilate, narrated by a secular historian, may best explain. Some years before the trial of Jesus, Pilate, newly settled in the position of governor of Judaea, resolved to remove the headquarters of the Roman army from Caesarea to Jerusalem; and the soldiers entered the Holy City with their standards, each of which bore the image of the emperor. To the Jewish mind these images were idolatrous, and their presence in Jerusalem was looked upon as a gross insult and desecration. The foremost men of the city poured down to Caesarea, where Pilate was staying, and besought him to remove them. He refused, and for five days the discussion went on. At length he was so irritated that he ordered them to be surrounded by soldiers, and threatened to have them put to death unless they became silent and dispersed. They, however, in no way dismayed, threw themselves on the ground and laid bare their necks, crying that they would rather die than have their city defiled. And the upshot was that Pilate had to yield, and the army was withdrawn from Jerusalem.[1] Such was the governor, and such were the people with whom he had to deal. He was no match for them, when their hearts were set on anything and their religious prejudices roused. In the present case they did with him exactly as they had done on that early occasion. He declared Jesus innocent, and thereupon the trial ought to have been at an end. But they raised an angry clamour--"they were the more fierce," says St. Luke--and began to pour out new accusations against the Prisoner. Pilate had not nerve enough to resist. He weakly turned to Jesus Himself, asking, "Hearest Thou not what these witness against Thee?" But Jesus "answered to him never a word." He would not, by a single syllable, give sanction to any prolongation of the proceedings: "insomuch that the governor marvelled greatly." Flustered and irresolute himself, he could not comprehend this majestic composure. The stake of Jesus in the proceedings was nothing less than His life; yet He was the only calm person in the whole assemblage. Suddenly, however, amidst the confusion a way of escape from his embarrassing situation seemed to open to Pilate. They were crying, "He stirreth up the people, teaching throughout all Jewry, beginning from Galilee to this place." The mention of Galilee was intended to excite prejudice against Jesus, because Galilee was noted as a hotbed of insurrection. But it set agoing a different train of thought in the mind of Pilate, who asked anxiously if He was a Galilean. It had flashed upon him that Herod, the ruler of Galilee, was in the city at the time, having come for the Passover celebration; and, as it was not an unusual procedure in Roman law to transfer a prisoner from the territory where he had been arrested to his place of origin or of domicile, it seemed to him a happy inspiration to send Jesus to be tried by the ruler of the province to which He belonged, and so get rid altogether of the case.[2] He acted at once on this idea; and, under the escort of Pilate's soldiers, Jesus and His accusers were sent away to the ancient palace of the Maccabees, in which Herod used to reside on his visits to the Holy City. Thus was Jesus, on this day of shame, tossed, like a ball, from hand to hand--from Annas to Caiaphas, from Caiaphas to Pilate, from Pilate to Herod, with more to follow; and these weary marches[3] in chains and in the custody of the officers of justice, with His persecutors about Him, are not to be forgotten in the catalogue of His sufferings. I. There are several Herods mentioned in the New Testament, and it must be made clear which of them this was. The first of them was he who slew the babes of Bethlehem, when the infant Saviour was carried away to Egypt. He was called Herod the Great, and reigned over the whole country, though only by permission of the Romans. At his death his dominions were divided among his sons by the foreigner, who thus more effectually brought the country under control; for the smaller the size of subject states the more absolute is the power of the suzerain. Judaea was given to Archelaus; but it was soon taken from him, to be administered by the Romans themselves through their procurators, of whom Pilate was one. Galilee and Peraea were given to another son, Antipas; and a region more to the north to a third, Philip. Our present Herod is Antipas. He was a man of some ability and at the outset of his career gave promise of ruling well. Like his father, he had a passion for architecture, and among his achievements in this line was the building of the city of Tiberias, well known in connection with modern missions. But he took a step which proved fatal when he entered into an intrigue with Herodias, the wife of his own brother Philip. She left her husband to come to him, and he sent away his own wife, the daughter of Aretas, the king of Arabia Petraea. Herodias was a much stronger character than he; and she remained at his side through life as his evil genius. Better aspirations were not, however, wholly extinguished in him even by this fall. When the Baptist began to fire the country, he took an interest in his preaching, and invited him to the palace, where he heard him gladly, till John said, "It is not lawful for thee to have her." For this the great preacher was cast into prison; but even then Herod frequently sent for him. Manifestly he was under religious impression. He admired the character and the teaching of John. It is said "he did many things." Only he could not and would not do the one thing needful: Herodias still retained her place. Naturally she feared and hated the man of God, who was seeking to remove her; and she plotted against him with implacable malignity. She was only too successful, making use of her own daughter--not Antipas', but her first husband's--for her purpose. On the king's birthday Salome danced before Herod and so intoxicated him with her skill and beauty, that, heated and overcome, he promised--the promise showing the man--to give her whatever she might ask, even to the half of his kingdom; and when the young witch, well drilled by her mother in the craft of hell, asked the head of the man of God, she was not refused. This awful crime filled his subjects with horror, and when, soon afterwards, King Aretas, the father of his discarded wife, invaded the country, to revenge his daughter's wrong, and inflicted on him an ignominious defeat, this reverse was popularly regarded as a divine punishment for what he had done. His own mind was haunted by the spectres of remorse, as we learn from the fact that, when he heard of the preaching of Jesus, his first thought was that this was John the Baptist risen from the dead. Indeed, from this point he seems to have rapidly deteriorated. Feeling the aversion of the minds of his subjects, he turned more and more to foreign customs. His court became distinguished for Roman imitations and affectations. The purveyors of pleasure, who in that age hawked their wares from one petty court to another--singers, dancers, jugglers and the like--were welcome at Tiberias. The fibre of his character was more and more relaxed, till it became a mere mass of pulp, ready to receive every impression but able to retain none. His annual visits to Jerusalem even, at Passover time, were inspired less by devotion than by the hope of amusement. In so large a concourse there would at any rate be acquaintances to see and news to hear; and who could tell what excitement might turn up? II. His reception of Jesus was thoroughly characteristic. Had he had the conscience even of a bad man, he might have been abashed to see the Baptist's Friend. Once he had been moved with terror at the mere rumour of Jesus; but that was all past; these emotions had been wiped out by newer ones and forgotten. He was "exceeding glad" to see Him. First, it was an excitement; and this was something for such a man. Then, it was a compliment from the Roman; indeed, we are told that Pilate and he had aforetime been at enmity, but by this attention were made friends again. His delight, however, arose chiefly from the hope that he might see Jesus working a miracle. For two or three years his own dominions had been ringing with the fame of the Miracle-worker, but Herod had never seen Him. Now was his chance; and no doubt entered his mind that Jesus would gratify his curiosity, or could count it anything but an honour to get the opportunity of displaying His skill. Such was Herod's estimate of Christ. He put Him on the level of a new dancer or singer; he looked on His miracles as a species of conjuring or magic; and he expected from Him the same entertainment as he might have obtained from any wandering professor of magical arts. At once he addressed Him in the friendliest manner and questioned Him in many words. Apparently he quite forgot the purpose for which Pilate had sent Him. He did not even wait for any replies, but went rambling on. He had thought much about religion, and he wished Jesus to know it. He had theories to ventilate, puzzles to propound, remarks to make. A man who has no religion may yet have a great deal to say about religion; and there are people who like far better to hear themselves talking than to listen to any speaker, however wise. No mouth is more voluble than that of a characterless man of feeling. III. Herod at last exhausted himself, and then he waited for Christ to speak. But Jesus uttered not a word. The silence lasted till the pause grew awkward and painful, and till Herod grew red and angry; but Jesus would not break it with a single syllable. For one thing, the entire proceedings were irrelevant. Jesus had been sent to Herod to be tried; but this had never been touched upon. Had Jesus, indeed, desired to deliver Himself at all hazards, this was a rare opportunity; because, if He had yielded to Herod's wishes and wrought a miracle for his gratification, no doubt He would have been acquitted and sent back loaded with gifts. But we cannot believe that such an expedient was even a temptation to Him. Never had He wrought a miracle for His own behoof, and it is inconceivable that He should have stooped to offer any justification of the estimate of Himself which this man had formed. Jesus was Herod's subject; but it was impossible for Him to look upon him with respect. How could He help feeling disdain for one who thought of Himself so basely and treated this great crisis so frivolously? To one who knew Herod's history, how loathsome must it have been to hear religious talk from his lips! There was no manliness or earnestness in the man. Religion was a mere diversion to him. To such Christ will always be silent. Herod is the representative of those for whom there is no seriousness in life, but who live only for pleasure. There are many such. Not only has religion, in any high and serious sense, no attraction for them, but they dislike everything like deep thought or earnest work in any sphere. As soon as they are released from the claims of business, they rush off to be excited and amused; and the one thing they dread is solitude, in which they might have to face themselves. In certain classes of society, where work is not necessary to obtain a livelihood, this spirit is the predominant one: life is all a scene of gaiety; one amusement follows another; and the utmost care is taken to avoid any intervals where reflection might come in. Religion itself may be dragged into this circle of dissipation. It is possible to go to church with substantially the same object with which one goes to a place of amusement--in the hope of being excited, of having the feelings stirred and the aesthetic sense gratified or, at the least, consuming an hour which might otherwise lie heavy on the hands. With shame be it said, there are churches enough and preachers enough ready to meet this state of mind half-way. With the fireworks of rhetoric or the witchery of music or the pomp of ritual the performance is seasoned up to the due pitch; and the audience depart with precisely the same kind of feeling with which they might leave a concert or a theatre. Very likely it is accounted a great success; but Christ has not spoken: He is resolutely mute to those who follow religion in this spirit. Sometimes the same spirit takes another direction; it becomes speculative and sceptical and, like Herod, "questions in many words." When I have heard some people propounding religious difficulties, the answer which has risen to my lips has been, Why should you be able to believe in Christ? what have you ever done to render yourselves worthy of such a privilege? you are thinking of faith as a compliment to be paid to Christ; in reality the power to believe in Him and His words is a great privilege and honour, that requires to be purchased with thought, humility and self-denial. We do not owe an answer to the religious objections of everyone. Religion is, indeed, a subject on which everyone takes the liberty of speaking; the most unholy and evil-living talk and write of it nothing doubting; but in reality it is a subject on which very few are entitled to be heard. We may know beforehand, from their lives, what the opinions of many must be about it; and we know what their opinions are worth. It may be thought that Jesus ought to have spoken to Herod--that He missed an opportunity. Ought He not to have appealed to his conscience and attempted to rouse him to a sense of his sin? To this I answer that His silence was itself this appeal. Had there been a spark of conscience left in Herod, those Eyes looking him through and through, and that divine dignity measuring and weighing him, would have caused his sins to rise up out of the grave and overwhelm him. Jesus was silent, that the voice of the dead Baptist might be heard. If we understood it, the silence of Christ is the most eloquent of all appeals. Can you remember when you used to hear Him--when the words of the Book and the preacher used to move you in church, when the singing awoke aspiration, when the Sabbath was holy ground, when the Spirit of God strove with you? And is that all passed of passing away? Does Christ speak no more? If a man is lying ill, and perceives day by day everything about him becoming silent--his wife avoiding speech, visitors sinking their voices to a whisper, footsteps falling and doors shutting noiselessly--he knows that his illness is becoming critical. When the traveller, battling with the snow-storm, sinks down at last to rest, he feels cold and painful and miserable; but, if there steals over him a soft, sweet sense of slumber and silence, then is the moment to rouse himself and fight off his peace, if he is ever to stir again. There is such a spiritual insensibility. It means that the Spirit is ceasing to strive, and Christ to call. If it is creeping over you, it is time to be anxious; for it is for your life. IV. How far Herod understood the silence of Jesus we cannot tell. It is too likely that he did not wish to understand. At all events he acted as if he did not; he treated it as if it were stupidity. He thought that the reason why Jesus would not work a miracle was because He could not: a pretender's powers generally forsake him when he falls into the hands of the police. Jesus, he thought, was discredited; His Messianic claims were exploded; even His followers must now be disillusioned. So he thought and so he said; and the satellites round his throne chimed in; for there is no place where a great man's word is echoed with more parrot-like precision than in a petty court. And no doubt they considered it a great stroke of wit, well worthy of applause, when Herod, before sending Him back to Pilate, cast over His shoulders a gorgeous robe--probably in imitation of the white robe worn at Rome by candidates for office. The suggestion was that Jesus was a candidate for the throne of the country, but one so ridiculous that it would be a mistake to treat Him with anything but contempt. Thus amidst peals of laughter was Jesus driven from the presence. [1] Josephus, "Ant.," XVIII., 3, 1. [2] It may be questioned whether it was for trial he sent Jesus to Herod or only for advice, as Festus caused St. Paul's case to be heard by Agrippa. [3] Called "die Gänge des Dulders," in German devotional literature. CHAPTER VI. BACK TO PILATE The sending of Jesus to Herod had not, as Pilate had hoped, finished the case, and so the Prisoner was brought back to the imperial palace. Herod had affected to treat Jesus with disdain; but in reality, as we are now aware, he had himself been tried and exposed. And Jesus returned to do the same thing for Pilate--to make manifest what manner of spirit he was of; though Pilate had no conception that this was going to happen: he was only annoyed that a case of which he thought he had got rid was thrown on his hands again. He had reluctantly to resume it, and he carried it through to the end; but, before this point was reached, his character was revealed, down to its very foundations, in the light of Christ. Herod's spirit was that of frivolous worldliness--the worldliness which tries to turn the whole of life into a pastime or a joke; Pilate's was that of strenuous worldliness--the worldliness which makes self its aim and subordinates everything to success. Of the two this is perhaps the more common; and, therefore, it will be both interesting and instructive to watch its self-revelation under the search-light of Christ's proximity. I. Pilate might perhaps have been justified in suspending the release of Jesus till after he received Him back from Herod; because, although he had himself found no fault in Him, his ignorance of Jewish laws and customs might have made him hesitate about his own judgment and wish, before absolutely settling the case, to obtain the opinion of an expert. When, however, he learned that the opinion of Herod coincided with his own, there was no further excuse for delay. Accordingly he plainly informed the Jews[1] that he had examined the Prisoner and found no fault in Him; he had also sent Him to Herod with a like result. "Therefore," he continued. Therefore--what? "Therefore," you expect to hear, "I dismiss Him from the bar acquitted, and I will protect Him, if need be, from all violence." This would have been the only conclusion in accordance with logic and justice. Pilate's conclusion was the extraordinary one: "Therefore I will chastise Him and release Him." He would inflict the severe punishment of scourging as a sop to their rage, and then release Him as a tribute to justice. Was a more unjust proposal ever made? Yet it was thoroughly characteristic of the man who made it as well as of the system which he represented. The spirit of imperial Rome was the spirit of compromise, manoeuvre and expediency; as the spirit of government has too often been elsewhere, not only in the State but also in the Church. Pilate had settled scores of cases on the same principle--or no principle; scores of officials were conducting their administration throughout the vast Roman empire in the same way at that very time. Only to Pilate fell the sinister distinction of putting the base system in operation in the case where its true character was exposed in the light of history. But ought we not to believe that in all other cases, however obscure the victims, the spirit manifested by Pilate has been equally displeasing to God? In our Lord's picture of the Last Judgment one striking trait is that all are astonished at the reasons assigned for their destiny. Those on the right hand are credited with feeding Christ when He was hungry, giving Him drink when He was thirsty, and so forth; and they ask in surprise, Lord, when saw we Thee hungry and fed Thee, or thirsty and gave Thee drink? In like manner those on the left are accused of seeing Christ hungry but neglecting to feed Him, of seeing Him thirsty and refusing to give Him drink, and so forth; and they ask, Lord, when saw we Thee hungry or thirsty and ministered not to Thee? You perhaps think they say so to conceal the sins of which they are conscious? Not at all. They are really astonished: they think their identity has been mistaken and that they are about to be punished for sins they have never committed. They are only aware of having neglected a few children or old women not worth thinking about. But Christ says, Each of these stood for Me, and, when you neglected or injured them, you were doing it unto Me. Thus may all life at the last prove far more high and solemn than we now imagine. Take care how you touch your brother man; you may be touching the apple of God's eye: take care how you do an injustice even to a child; you may find out at the last that it is Christ you have been assailing. II. Pilate had cut himself loose from principle when he declared Jesus to be innocent and yet ordered Him to be chastised. He thought, however, that he could guide his course safely enough to the point at which he aimed. We are to see how completely he failed and at last suffered total shipwreck. Hands were stretched out towards him, as he advanced, some to save him, some to do the reverse; but the impulse of his own false beginning carried him on to the fatal issue. The first hand stretched out to him was a loving and helpful one: it was the hand of his wife. She sent to tell him of a dream she had had about his Prisoner and to warn him to have nothing to do with "that just man." Difficulties have been made as to how she could know about Christ; but there is no real difficulty. Probably, while Jesus was away at Herod's, Pilate had entered the palace and told his wife about the singular trial and about the impression which Jesus had made upon his mind. When he left her, she had fallen asleep and dreamed about it; for, though our version makes her say, "This night I have dreamed about Him," the literal translation is "this day"; and of course there might be many causes why a lady should fall asleep in the daytime. Her dream had been such as to fill her with a vague sense of alarm, and her message to her husband was the result. This incident has taken a strong hold of the Christian imagination and given rise to all kinds of guesses. Tradition has handed down the name of Pilate's wife as Claudia Procula; and it is said that she was a proselyte of the Jewish religion; as high-toned heathen ladies in that age not infrequently became when circumstances brought the Old Testament into their hands. The Greek Church has gone so far as to canonise her, supposing that she became a Christian. Poets and artists have tried to reproduce her dream. Many will remember the picture of it in the Doré Gallery in London. The dreaming woman is represented standing in a balcony and looking up an ascending valley, which is crowded with figures. It is the vale of years or centuries, and the figures are the generations of the Church of Christ yet to be. Immediately in front of her is the Saviour Himself, bearing His cross; behind and around Him are His twelve apostles and the crowds of their converts; behind these the Church of the early centuries, with the great fathers, Polycarp and Tertullian, Athanasius and Gregory, Chrysostom and Augustine; further back the Church of the Middle Ages, with the majestic forms and warlike accoutrements of the Crusaders rising from its midst; behind these the Church of modern times, with its heroes; then multitudes upon multitudes that no man can number pressing forward in broadening ranks, till far aloft, in the white and shining heavens, lo, tier on tier and circle upon circle, with the angels of God hovering above them and on their flanks; and in the midst, transfigured to the brightness of a star, the cross, which in its rough reality He is bearing wearily below. Of course these are but fancies. In the woman's anxiety that no evil should befall the Innocent we may, with greater certainty, trace the vestiges of the ancient Roman justice as it may have dwelt in the noble matrons, like Volumnia and Cornelia, whose names adorn the pristine annals of her race; while the wife's solicitude to save her husband from a deed of sin associates her with the still nobler women of all ages who have walked like guardian angels by the side of men immersed in the world and liable to be coarsened by its contact, to warn them of the higher laws and the unseen powers. We can hardly doubt that the hand of God was in this dream, or that it was outstretched to save Pilate from the doom to which he was hastening. III. Another hand, however, was now stretched out to him; and he grasped it eagerly, thinking it was going to save him; when it suddenly pushed him down towards the abyss. It was the hand of the mob of Jerusalem. Up to this point the actors assembled on the stage of Christ's trial were comparatively few. It had been the express desire of the Jewish authorities to hurry the case through before the populace of the city and the crowds of Passover strangers got wind of it. The proceedings had accordingly gone forward all night; and it was still early morning. As Jesus was led through the streets to Herod and back, accompanied by so many of the principal citizens, no doubt a considerable number must have gathered. But now circumstances brought a great multitude on the scene. It was the custom of the Roman governor, on the Passover morning, to release a prisoner to the people. As there were generally plenty of political prisoners on hand, rebels against the detested Roman yoke, but, for that very reason, favourites and heroes of the Jewish populace, this was a privilege not to be forgotten; and, while the trial of Jesus was proceeding in the open air, the mob of the city came pouring through the palace gates and up the avenue, shouting for their annual gift. For once their demand was welcome to Pilate, for he thought he saw in it a way of escape from his own difficulty. He would offer them Jesus, who had a few days before been the hero of a popular demonstration, and as an aspirant to the Messiahship would, he imagined, be the very person they should want. It was an utterly unjust thing to do; because, first, it was treating Jesus as if He were already a condemned man, whereas Pilate had himself a few minutes before declared Him innocent; and, secondly, it was staking the life of an innocent man on a guess, which might be mistaken, as to the fancy of the mob. No doubt, however, Pilate considered it kind, as he felt sure of the disposition of the populace; and, at all events, the chance of extricating himself was too good to lose. The minds of the mob it turned out, however, were pre-occupied with a favourite of their own. Singularly enough his name also appears to have been Jesus: "Jesus Barabbas" is the name he bears in some of the best manuscripts of the gospel of St. Matthew.[2] He was "a notable prisoner," who had been guilty of insurrection in the city, in which blood had been spilt, and was now lying in jail with the associates whose ringleader he had been. A bandit, half robber half insurrectionary leader, is a figure which easily lays hold of the popular imagination. They hesitated, however, when Pilate proposed Jesus; and Pilate seems to have sent for the other prisoner, that they might see the two side by side; for they could not, he thought, hesitate for a moment, if they had the opportunity of observing the contrast. But this brief interval was utilised by the Sanhedrists to persuade the multitude. It must be remembered that this was not the Galilean crowd by which Jesus had been brought in triumph into the city a few days before, but the mob of Jerusalem, with whom the ecclesiastical authorities had influence.[3] The priests and scribes, then, mingled among them and used every artifice they could think of. Probably their most effective argument was to whisper that Jesus was obviously the choice of Pilate, and therefore should not be theirs. If Pilate actually placed the two Jesuses side by side on his platform, what a sight it was! The political desperado, stained with murder, there; the Healer and Teacher, who had gone about continually doing good, the Son of man, the Son of God, here. Now which will you have--Jesus or Barabbas? And the cry came ringing from ten thousand throats, "Barabbas!" To Jesus what must that have meant! These were the inhabitants of Jerusalem, whom He had longed to gather as a hen gathereth her chickens under her wings; they were the hearers of His words, the subjects of His miracles, the objects of His love; and they prefer to Him a murderer and a robber. This scene has often been alleged as the self-condemnation of democracy. _Vox populi vox Dei_, its flatterers have said; but look yonder: when the multitude has to choose between Jesus and Barabbas, it chooses Barabbas. If this be so, the scene is equally decisive against aristocracy. Did the priests, scribes and nobles behave better than the mob? It was by their advice that the mob chose. It is poor sport, on either side, to pelt opponents with such reproaches. It is better far to learn holy fear from such a scene in reference to ourselves, to our own party and to our country. What are we to admire? Whom are we to follow? In what are we to seek salvation? Certainly there are great questions awaiting the democracy. Whom will it choose--the revolutionist or the regenerator? And to what will it trust--cleverness or character? What spirit will it adopt as its own--that of violence or that of love? Which means will it employ--those which work from without inwards, or those which work from within outwards? What end will it seek--the kingdom of meat and drink, or the kingdom which is righteousness and peace and joy in the Holy Ghost? But such questions are not for the democracy alone. All classes, all parties, every generation and every country have, from time to time, to face them. And so has the individual. Perhaps all the great choices of life ultimately resolve themselves into this one--Jesus or Barabbas? IV. To Pilate the choice of Barabbas must have been not only a surprise, but a staggering blow. "What then," he asked, "shall I do with Jesus?" Probably he expected the answer, Give us Him too; and there can be little doubt that he would willingly have complied with such a request. But, instead of this, there came, quick as echo, the reply, "Crucify Him!" and it was more a command than a request. He was now made sensible that what he had considered a loophole of escape was a noose into which he had thrust his head. He might, indeed, have intimated that he had only given them the prerogative to save one of the two lives, not to take either of them away. But virtually he had put both prisoners at their disposal. In this way, at all events, the mob interpreted the situation; and he did not venture to contradict them. He was, however, deeply moved, and he did a very unusual thing: calling for a basin of water, he washed his hands before them all and said, "I am innocent from the blood of this just Person; see ye to it." This was an impressive act; yet its impressiveness was too theatrical. He washed his hands when he ought to have exerted them. And blood does not come off so easily. He could not abnegate his responsibility and cast it upon others. Public men frequently think they can do so: they say that they bow to the force of public opinion, but wash their hands of the deed. But if their position, like Pilate's, demands that they should decide for themselves and take the consequences, the guilt of sinful action clings to them and cannot be transferred. This whole scene, indeed, is a mirror for magistrates, to show them down what dark paths they may be pushed if they resign themselves to be the mere tools of the popular will. Pilate ought to have opposed the popular will at whatever risk and refused to do the deed of which he disapproved. But such a course would have involved loss to himself; and this was the real reason for his conduct. The populace felt their triumph, and in reply to his solemn dissociation of himself from Christ's death sent back the insulting cry, "His blood be on us and on our children." Pilate was afraid of the guilt, but they were not. Well might the heavens have blackened above them at that word, and the earth shuddered beneath their feet! Profaner cry was never uttered. But they were mad with rage and reckless of everything but victory in the contest in which they were engaged. Still, their words were not forgotten in the quarter to which they were directed; and it was not long before the curse which they had invoked descended on their city and their race. Meanwhile they gained their end: the will of Pilate was breaking down before their well-directed persistency. [1] "On the return of Jesus from Herod, the Sanhedrists do not seem to have been present. Pilate had to call them together, presumably from the temple."--EDERSHEIM. [2] See Keim's note. Westcott and Hort reject it. Some have further seen an impressive coincidence in the name Barabbas, interpreting it "son of the father." Jesus was by no means a rare name. [3] Hence the contrast, common in popular preaching, between the multitude crying "Hosanna" and the same multitude crying "Crucify" is incorrect. CHAPTER VII. THE CROWN OF THORNS. Pilate had failed in his attempt to save Jesus from the hands of His prosecutors, whose rage against their Victim was only intensified by the struggle in which they had engaged; and there was no course now open to him but to hand Jesus over to the executioners for, at least, the preliminary tortures of crucifixion. It is not in accordance with modern Christian sentiment to dwell very much on the physical sufferings of Christ. Once the feeling on this subject was very different: in old writers, like the mystic Tauler, for example, every detail is enlarged upon and even exaggerated, till the page seems to reek with blood and the mind of the reader grows sick with horror. We rather incline to throw a veil over the ghastly details, or we uncover them only so far as may be necessary in order to understand the condition of His mind, in which we seek His real sufferings. The sacred body of our Lord was exposed to many shocks and cruelties before the final and complicated horrors of the crucifixion. First, there was His agony in the garden. Then--not to speak of the chains laid on Him when He was arrested--there was the blow on the face from the servant of the high priest. After His condemnation by the ecclesiastical authorities in the middle of the night they "did spit in His face and buffeted Him;" and others smote Him with the palms of their hands, saying, "Prophesy unto us, Thou Christ. Who is he that smote Thee?" The present is, therefore, the fourth access of physical suffering which He had to endure. First, they scourged Him. This was done by the Roman soldiers by order of their master Pilate, though the governor, in all likelihood, retired from the scene while it was being inflicted. It took place, it would appear, on the platform where the trial had been held, and in the eyes of all. The victim was stripped and stretched against a pillar, or bent over a low post, his hands being tied, so that he had no means of defending himself. The instrument of torture was a sort of knout or cat-o'-nine-tails, with bits of iron or bone attached to the ends of the thongs. Not only did the blows cut the skin and draw blood, but not infrequently the victim died in the midst of the operation. Some have supposed that Pilate, out of consideration for Jesus, may have moderated either the number or the severity of the strokes; but, on the other hand, his plan of releasing Him depended on his being able to show the Jews that He had suffered severely. The inability of Jesus to bear His own cross to the place of execution was no doubt chiefly due to the exhaustion produced by this infliction; and this is a better indication of the degree of severity than mere conjecture. After the scourging the soldiers took Him away with them to their own quarters in the palace and called together the whole band to enjoy the spectacle. Evidently they thought that He was already condemned to be crucified; and anyone condemned to crucifixion seems, after being scourged, to have been handed over to the soldiery to be handled as they pleased, just as a hunted creature, when it is caught, is flung to the dogs. And, indeed, this comparison is only too appropriate; because, as Luther has remarked, in those days men were treated as only brutes are treated now. To us it is incomprehensible how the whole band should have been called together merely to gloat over the sufferings of a fellow-creature and to turn His pain and shame into brutal mockery. This, however, was their purpose; and they enjoyed it as schoolboys enjoy the terror of a tortured animal. It must be remembered that these were men who on the field of battle were inured to bloodshed and at Rome found their chief delight in watching the sports of the arena, where gladiators butchered one another to make a Roman holiday. Their horseplay took the form of a mock coronation. They had caught the drift of the trial sufficiently to know that the charge against Jesus was that He pretended to be a king; and lofty pretensions on the part of one who appears to be mean and poor easily lend themselves to ridicule. Besides, in their minds there was perhaps an amused scorn at the thought of a Jew aiming at a sovereignty above that of Caesar. Foreign soldiers stationed in Palestine cannot have liked the Jews, who hated them so cordially; and this may have given an edge to their scorn of a Jewish pretender. They treated Him as if they believed Him to be a king. A king must wear the purple. And so they got hold of an old, cast-off officer's cloak of this colour and threw it over His shoulders. Then a king must have a crown. So one of them ran out to the park in which the palace stood and pulled a few twigs from a tree or bush. These happened to be thorny; but this did not matter, it was all the better; they were plaited into the rude semblance of a crown and crushed down on His head. To complete the outfit, a king must have a sceptre. And this they found without difficulty: a reed, probably used as a walking-stick, being thrust into His right hand. Thus was the mock king dressed up. And then, as on occasions of state they had seen subjects bow the knee to the emperor, saying, "_Ave, Caesar!_" so they advanced one after another to Jesus and, bending low, said, "Hail, King of the Jews!" But, after passing with mock solemnity, each turned and, with a burst of laughter, struck Him a blow, using for this purpose the reed which He had dropped. And, though I hardly dare to repeat it, they covered His face with spittle! What a spectacle! It might have been expected that those who were themselves poor and lowly, and therefore subject to the oppression of the powerful, would have felt sympathy and compassion for one of their own station when crushed by the foot of tyranny. But there is no cruelty like the cruelty of underlings. There is an instinct in all to wish to see others cast down beneath themselves; and, especially, if one who has aimed high is brought low, there is a sense of personal exultation at his downfall. Such are the base passions which lie at the bottom of men's hearts; and the dregs of the dregs of human nature were revealed on this occasion. What must it have been to Jesus to look on it--to have it thrust on His sight and into contact with His very person, so that He could not get away? What must it have been to Him, with His delicate bodily organism and sensitive mind, to be in the hands of those rude and ruthless men? It was, however, necessary, in order that He might fully accomplish the work which He had come to the world to perform. He had come to redeem humanity--to go down to the very lowest depths to seek and to save the lost; and, therefore, He had to make close acquaintance with human nature in its worst specimens and its extremest degradation. He was to be the Saviour of sinners as bad and degraded as even these soldiers; and, therefore, He had to come in contact with them and see what they were. Thus have I passed as lightly as was possible over the details; nor would my readers wish me to dwell on them further. But it will be profitable to linger on this spot a little longer, in order to learn the lessons of the scene. First, notice in the conduct of the tormentors of Jesus the abuse of one of the gifts of God. In the conduct of the Roman soldiers from first to last the most striking feature is that at every point they turned their work into horseplay and merriment. Now, laughter is a gift of God. It is a kind of spice which the Creator has given to be taken along with the somewhat unpalatable food of ordinary life. It is a kind of sunshine to enliven the landscape, which is otherwise too dull and sombre. The power of seeing the amusing side of things immensely lightens the load of life; and he who possesses the gift of evoking hearty and innocent mirth may be a true benefactor of his species.[1] But, while laughter is a gift of God, there is no other gift of His which is more frequently abused and converted from a blessing into a curse. When laughter is directed against sacred things and holy persons; when it is used to belittle and degrade what is great and reverend; when it is employed as a weapon with which to torture weakness and cover innocence with ridicule--then, instead of being the foam on the cup at the banquet of life, it becomes a deadly poison. Laughter guided these soldiers in their inhuman acts; it concealed from them the true nature of what they were doing; and it wounded Christ more deeply than even the scourge of Pilate. A second thing to be noticed is that it was against the kingly office of the Redeemer that the opposition of men was directed on this occasion. It was different on a former occasion, when He was abused at the close of the ecclesiastical trial. Then it was His prophetic office that was turned into ridicule: "when they had blindfolded Him, they struck Him on the face and asked Him, saying, Prophesy who is it that smote thee." Here, on the other hand, the ridicule was directed against Him entirely on the ground of His claiming to be a king. The soldiers considered it an absurdity and a joke that one apparently so mean, friendless and powerless should make any such pretensions. Many a time since then has the same derision been awakened by this claim of Christ. He is the King of nations. But earthly kings and statesmen have ridiculed the idea that His will and His law should control them in their schemes and ambitions. Even where His authority is nominally acknowledged, both aristocracies and democracies are slow to recognise that their legislation and customs should be regulated by His words. He is King of the Church. Andrew Melville told King James: "There are two kings and two kingdoms in Scotland; there is King James, the head of this commonwealth, and there is Christ Jesus, the King of the Church, whose subject James VI. is, and of whose kingdom he is not a king, nor a lord, nor a head, but a member." The entire history of the Scottish Church has been one long struggle to maintain this truth; but the struggle has frequently been carried on in the face of opposition almost as scornful as that which assailed Jesus in Pilate's palace. Most vital of all is the acknowledgment of Christ's kingship in the realm of the individual life; but it is here that His will is most resisted. In words we acknowledge allegiance to Him; but in which of us has the victory over the flesh been so complete that His full claim has been conceded, to have the arrangement of our business and our leisure and to dictate what is to be done with our time, our means and our services? A third lesson is to recognise that in what Jesus bore on this occasion He was suffering for us. Of all the features of the scene the one that has most impressed the imagination of Christendom is the crown of thorns. It was something unusual, and brought out the ingenuity and wantonness of cruelty. Besides, as the wound of a thorn has been felt by everyone, it brings the pain of the Sufferer nearer to us than any other incident. But it is chiefly by its symbolism that it has laid hold of the Christian mind. When Adam and Eve were driven from the garden into the bleak and toilsome world, their doom was that the ground should bring forth to them thorns and thistles. Thorns were the sign of the curse; that is, of their banishment from God's presence and of all the sad and painful consequences following therefrom. And does not the thorn, staring from the naked bough of winter in threatening ugliness, lurking beneath the leaves or flowers of summer to wound the approaching hand, tearing the clothes or the flesh of the traveller who tries to make his way through the thicket, burning in the flesh where it has sunk, fitly stand for that side of life which we associate with sin--the side of care, fret, pain, disappointment, disease and death? In a word, it symbolises the curse. But it was the mission of Christ to bear the curse; and, as He lifted it on His own head, He took it off the world. He bore our sins and carried our sorrows. Why is it that, when we think of the crown of thorns now, it is not only with horror and pity, but with an exultation which cannot be repressed? Because, cruel as was the soldiers' jest, there was a divine fitness in their act; and wisdom was, even through their sin, fulfilling her own intention. There are some persons with faces so handsome that the meanest dress, which would excite laughter or disgust if worn by others, looks well on them, and the merest shreds of ornament, stuck on them anyhow, are more attractive than the most elaborate toilets of persons less favoured by nature. And so about Christ there was something which converted into ornaments even the things flung at Him as insults. When they called Him the Friend of publicans and sinners, though they did it in derision, they were giving Him a title for which a hundred generations have loved Him; and so, when they put on His head the crown of thorns, they were unconsciously bestowing the noblest wreath that man could weave Him. Down through the ages Jesus passes, still wearing the crown of thorns; and His followers and lovers desire for Him no other diadem. Fourthly, this scene teaches the lesson of patience in suffering. I remember a saint whom it was my privilege to visit in the beginning of my life as a minister. Though poor and uneducated, she was a person of very unusual natural powers; her ideas were singularly original, and she had a charming pleasantness of wit. Though not very old, she knew that she was doomed to die; and the disease from which she was suffering was one of the most painful incident to humanity. Often, I remember, she would tell me, that, when the torture was at the worst, she lay thinking of the sufferings of the Saviour, and said to herself that the shooting pains were not so bad as the spikes of the thorns. Christ's sufferings are a rebuke to our softness and self-pleasing. It is not, indeed, wrong to enjoy the comforts and the pleasures of life. God sends these; and, if we receive them with gratitude, they may lift us nearer to Himself. But we are too terrified to be parted from them and too afraid of pain and poverty. Especially ought the sufferings of Christ to brace us up to endure whatever of pain or reproach we may have to encounter for His sake. Many would like to be Christians, but are kept back from decision by dread of the laughter of profane companions or by the prospect of some worldly loss. But we cannot look at the suffering Saviour without being ashamed of such cowardly fears. If the crown of thorns now becomes Christ so well as to be the pride and the song of men and angels, be assured that any twig from that crown which we may have to wear will one day turn out to be our most dazzling ornament. [1] A ministerial friend told me that he once, in the hearing of Dr. Andrew Bonar, made reference to some things in the life of St. Paul which seemed to him to betray on the part of the apostle a sense of humour. He was not very sure how Dr. Bonar might take such a remark, and at the close he asked if he agreed with him. "Not only," was the reply, "do I agree with you, but I go further: I think there are distinct traces of humour in the sayings and the conduct of our Lord;" and he proceeded to quote examples. Everyone is aware how Dr. Bonar himself knew how to combine with the profoundest reverence and saintliness a strain of delightful mirth; and the absence of this is the great defect of his otherwise charming autobiography. CHAPTER VIII. THE SHIPWRECK OF PILATE We have lingered long at the judgment-seat of Pilate. Far too long. Pilate has detained us. He knew perfectly well, the first glance he bestowed on the case, what it was his duty to do. But, instead of acting at once on his conviction, he put off. Of such delay good seldom comes. Pilate gave temptation time to assail him. He resisted it, indeed; he fought hard and long against it; but he ought never to have given it the chance. And he miserably succumbed in the end. I. When Pilate delivered Jesus over to be scourged, it looked as if he had surrendered Him to the cross; and so in all probability the Jews thought, because scourging was the usual preliminary to crucifixion. He, however, had not yet abandoned the hope of saving Jesus: he was still secretly adhering to the proposal he had made, to chastise Him and then let Him go. Perhaps, if he retired into the palace while the scourging was taking place, his wife may have urged him to make a further effort on behalf of that Just Man. At all events he came out on the platform, round which the Jews were still standing, and informed them that the case was not finished; and, as Jesus, whose scourging was now over, came forward, he turned round and, pointing to Him, exclaimed with deep emotion, "Behold the Man." It was an involuntary expression of commiseration,[1] an appeal to the Jews to recognize the unreasonableness of proceeding further: Jesus was so obviously not such an one as they had tried to make Him out to be; at all events He had suffered enough. But the Christian mind has in all ages felt in these words a sense deeper than Pilate intended. As Caiaphas was uttering a greater truth than he knew when he said it was expedient that one should die for the whole people, so in uttering this exclamation the governor was an unconscious prophet. Preachers in every subsequent age have adopted his words and, pointing to Jesus, cried, "Behold the Man!" Painters have chosen this moment, when Jesus came forth, bleeding from the cruel stripes and wearing the purple robe and crown of thorns, as the one in which to portray the Man of Sorrows; and many a priceless canvas bears the title _Ecce Homo_. From Pilate's lips there fell two words which the world will never forget--the question, "What is truth?" and this exclamation, "Behold the Man!" And the one may be taken as the answer to the other. When the question, "What is truth?" is put with deep earnestness, what does it mean but this?--Who will make God known to us? who will clear up the mystery of existence? who will reveal to man his own destiny? And to these questions is there any answer but this; "Behold the Man"? He has shown to the sons of men what they ought to be; His is the perfect life, after which every human life ought to be fashioned; He has opened the gates of immortality and revealed the secrets of the other world. And, what is far more important, He has not only shown us what our life here and hereafter ought to be, but how the ideal may be realised. He is not only the image of perfection but the Saviour from sin. Therefore ought the world to turn to Him and "behold the Man." II. Pilate hoped that the sight of the sufferings of Jesus would move the hard hearts of His persecutors, as it had moved his own. But the only response to his appeal was, "Crucify Him, crucify Him." It is to be noted, however, that these cruel words now came from "the chief priests and officers." Apparently the common people were moved: they might have yielded, if their superiors had allowed them. But nothing could move those hard hearts; indeed, the sight of blood only inflamed them the more; and they felt certain that by sheer persistence they could break down Pilate's opposition. He was at his wits' end and replied to them angrily, "Take ye Him and crucify Him; for I find no fault in Him"; meaning probably, that he was willing to yield the Prisoner up to their will, if they would take the responsibility of executing Him; if, indeed, he had in his mind any clear meaning and was not merely uttering an exclamation of annoyance. They perceived that the critical moment had arrived, and at last they let out the true reason for which they desired His death: "We have a law, and by our law He ought to die, because He made Himself the Son of God." This was the ground on which they had condemned Him themselves, though up to this point they had kept it concealed. They had not mentioned it, because they thought that Pilate would jeer at it. It had on him, however, a very different effect. All the morning he had been feeling uneasy; and the more he saw of Jesus the more he disliked the part he was playing. But now at length the mention of His claim to be the Son of God caused his fears to take a definite and alarming shape. It revived in his mind the stories, with which his own pagan religion was rife, of gods or sons of the gods who had sometimes appeared on earth in disguise. It was dangerous to have to do with them; for any injury inflicted on them, even unconsciously, might be terribly avenged. He had discerned in Jesus something mysterious and inexplicable: what if He were the son of Jehovah, the native deity of Palestine, as Castor and Pollux were sons of Jupiter? and might not Jehovah, if He were injured, blast the man who wronged Him with a curse? Such was the terror that flashed through his mind; and, taking Jesus once more inside the palace, he asked Him, with a mixture of awe and curiosity, "Whence art Thou?" Jesus gave him no answer, but again retired into the majestic silence which at three points already had marked His trial. In the whole conduct of the Saviour in His sufferings there is nothing more sublime than these pauses; but it is not easy at every point to gauge the state of mind to which they were due. Why was Jesus silent at this point? Some have said, because it was impossible to answer the question. He could not have said either Yes or No; for, if He had said that God was His Father, Pilate would have understood the statement in a grossly pagan sense; and yet, to avoid this, He could not say that He was not the Son of God. So it was best to say nothing. The true explanation, however, is simpler. Jesus would say nothing about whether He was the Son of God or not, because He did not wish to be released on this ground. Not as a son of God, but as an innocent man, which Pilate had again and again acknowledged Him to be, was He entitled to be set free; and His silence called upon Pilate to act on this acknowledgment. The judge was more than ever astonished; and he was irritated a little at being thus treated. "Speakest Thou not unto me?" he asked, flushing; "knowest Thou not that I have power to crucify Thee and have power to release Thee?" Poor man! it was to be seen before many minutes had passed how much power he had. And what was this power of which he boasted? He spoke as if he had arbitrary discretion to do whatever he pleased. No just judge would make such a claim: justice takes from him the power to follow his own inclination if it be unjust. It was of this Jesus reminded him when He now answered with quiet dignity, "Thou couldest have no power at all against Me, unless it were given thee from above." [2] He reminds him that the power he wields is delegated by Heaven, and therefore not to be used according to his own caprice, but according to the dictates of justice. Yet He added, "Therefore he that delivered Me unto thee hath the greater sin." He acknowledged that Pilate was in a position in which he was compelled to try the case: he had not taken it up at his own hand, as the Jewish authorities had done. Thus Jesus recognised all the difficulties of His judge's position and was willing to make for him every allowance. This was He whom Pilate had, a few minutes before, given over to torture. Was there ever such sublime and unselfish clemency? Could there have been a more complete triumph over resentment and irritation? If the silence of Christ was sublime, no less sublime, when He did speak, were His words. III. Pilate felt the greatness and the magnanimity of his Prisoner, and came forth determined at all hazards to set Him free. The Jews saw it in his face. And at length they brought out their last weapon, which they had been keeping in reserve and Pilate had been fearing all the time: they threatened to complain against him to the emperor; for this was the meaning of what they now cried: "If thou let this man go, thou art not Caesar's friend: whosoever maketh himself a king speaketh against Caesar." There was nothing which a Roman provincial governor so much dreaded as a complaint lodged against him at Rome. And in Pilate's case such an accusation, for more reasons than one, would have been specially perilous. The imperial throne was occupied at the time by one who was a most suspicious master. Tiberius seemed to delight in humiliating and disgracing his subordinates. Besides, at this very period he was peculiarly dangerous. A diseased body, the punishment of vices long indulged, had made his mind gloomy and savage; in fact, he was little better than a madman--morose, suspicious and malicious. Nor was any charge so likely to inflame him as the one which they proposed to lay against Pilate. It was well known at Rome that the hope of a Messiah was spread throughout the East; and any provincial governor supposed to be favouring or even conniving at the claims of such a pretender would certainly be recalled, probably exiled, and possibly executed. _Amicus Caesaris_, "Caesar's friend," was one of the most coveted titles of a man in Pilate's position; and to be accused of acting as no friend of Caesar's could act was the most serious of all dangers. But there was something else which lent point to the threat of the Jewish authorities: Pilate well knew that his administration could not bear the light of an investigation such as would inevitably follow a complaint from his subjects. It is a curious thing that in a secular writer of that age we find an account of another occasion on which this same threat was held over Pilate; and the writer who mentions it adds: "He was afraid that if a Jewish embassy were sent to Rome, they might discuss the many maladministrations of his government, his extortions, his unjust decrees, his inhuman punishments." [3] Such had been the character of Pilate's past life; and now, when he was going to do a humane and righteous act, it stayed his hand. There is nothing which so frustrates good resolutions and paralyzes noble efforts as the dead weight of past sins. Those who are acquainted with secret and discreditable chapters of a man's history are able, wielding this knowledge over his head, to say, Thou shalt not do this good act which thou wishest to do, or, Thou shalt do this evil and shameful thing which we bid thee. There are companies in which men cannot utter the fine, high-sounding things they would say elsewhere, because there are present those who know how their lives have contradicted them. What is it that mocks the generous thought rising in our minds, that silences the noble word on our lips, that paralyzes the forming energy of our actions? Is it not the internal whisper, Remember how you have failed before? This is the curse of past sin: it will not let us do the good we would. But, if a man has thus committed himself by an evil past, what is he to do? What ought Pilate to have done? There is only one course. It is to summon together the resources of his manhood, defy consequences, and do the right forthwith, come what may. One step taken in loyalty to conscience, one word of confession spoken, and in a moment the power of the tyranny is broken, and the spellbound man is free to issue forth from the inglorious prison of the past. Alas, Pilate was not equal to any such effort. For the sake of righteousness, for the sake of this impressive and innocent but obscure and friendless Galilean, to face a complaint at Rome and run the risk of exile and poverty--the man of the world's philosophy could not rise to any such height. He belonged to the world, whose fashion and favour, pleasures and comforts were the breath of his nostrils; and, when he heard the menace of his subjects, he surrendered at discretion. Thus Jewish passion and persistency triumphed. Pilate resisted, but he was forced to yield inch by inch. He wished to do right; he felt the spell of Jesus; and it irritated him to have to go against his conscience, but his subjects compelled him to obey their wicked will. Yet the true reason of his failure was in himself--in the shallowness and worldliness of his own character, which this occasion laid bare to the very foundations.[4] IV. There was little more to do. The mind of Pilate was very savage and his heart very sore. He had been beaten and humiliated; and he would gladly inflict some humiliation on his opponents, if he could find a way. He ascended the judgment-seat, "in a place that is called the Pavement, but in the Hebrew Gabbatha"--an act similar in significance, I suppose, with our judges' habit, before pronouncing a death sentence, of putting on the black cap. Pointing to Jesus, he exclaimed, "Behold your King!" It was as much as to say that he believed this really to be their Messiah--this poor, bleeding, mishandled Man. He was trying to cut them with a taunt. And he succeeded: smarting with pain they shouted, "Away with Him! away with Him! crucify Him!" "What," he proceeded, "shall I crucify your King?" And, borne away with fury, they responded, "We have no king but Caesar." What a word to come from the representatives of a nation to which pertained "the adoption and the glory and the covenants and the giving of the law and the service of God and the promises!" It was the renouncement of their birthright, the abandonment of their destiny. Pilate well knew what it had cost their proud hearts thus to forswear the hopes of their fathers and acknowledge the right of their conqueror; but to compel them to swallow this bitter draught was some compensation for the cup of humiliation they had compelled him to drink. And he took them at their word. [1] Perhaps also of admiration. Pilate had never before seen so impressive a specimen of humanity; and the contrast between the sweetness and majesty of His appearance and the indignities which He had suffered drew from him this involuntary exclamation. One recalls Shakespeare's words about Brutus: "His life was gentle, and the elements So mixed in him, that nature might stand up And say to all the world, This was a Man!" [2] We are much tempted on account of the "therefore" to explain "from above" as referring to the Jewish tribunal. [3] Philo. [4] It is a striking illustration of the irony of history that Pilate was overtaken by the very fate to escape which he abandoned Jesus. Soon after the Crucifixion his subjects lodged a complaint against him at Rome. He was recalled from his province and never returned. Ultimately, it is said, he terminated his existence with his own hand, "wearied out with miseries." Many legends in subsequent centuries clustered about his name. Several spots were supposed to be haunted by his restless and despairing spirit, notably a spring in Switzerland on the top of Mount Pilatus, which was thought to have derived its name from him; but this is more than doubtful. CHAPTER IX. JUDAS ISCARIOT To the civil trial of our Lord there is a sad appendix, as we have already had one to the ecclesiastical trial. Christ's great confession in the palace of the high priest was accompanied by the great denial of Peter outside; and the proceedings in the court of Pontius Pilate were accompanied by the final act of the treachery of Judas. Only in the latter case we are not able with the same accuracy to fix the circumstances of time and place. I. Judas is one of the darkest riddles of human history. In the Vision of Hell the poet Dante, after traversing the circles of the universe of woe, in which each separate kind of wickedness receives its peculiar punishment, arrives at last, in the company of his guide, at the nethermost circle of all, in the very bottom of the pit, where the worst of all sinners and the basest of all sins are undergoing retribution. It is a lake not of fire but of ice, beneath whose transparent surface are visible, fixed in painful postures, the figures of those who have betrayed their benefactors; because this, in Dante's estimation, is the worst of sins. In the midst of them stands out, vast and hideous, "the emperor who sways the realm of woe"--Satan himself; for this was the crime which lost him Paradise. And the next most conspicuous figure is Judas Iscariot. He is in the mouth of Satan, being champed and torn by his teeth as in a ponderous engine. Such was the mediaeval view of this man and his crime. But in modern times opinion has swung round to the opposite extreme. Ours is an age of toleration, and one of its favourite occupations is the rehabilitation of evil reputations. Men and women who have stood for centuries in the pillory of history are being taken down; their cases are retried; and they are set up on pedestals of admiration. Sometimes this is done with justice, but is other cases it has been carried to absurdity. Nobody, it would appear, has ever been very bad; the criminals and scoundrels have been men whose motives have been misunderstood. Among those on whose behalf the attempt has thus been made to reverse the verdict of history is Judas Iscariot. Eighteen centuries had agreed to regard him as the meanest of mankind, but in our century he has been transmuted into a kind of hero. The theory is of German origin; but it was presented to the English public by De Quincey, who adorned it with all the persuasiveness of his meretricious genius. It is held that the motive of Judas was totally different from the one hitherto supposed: it was not filthy lucre. The smallness of the price for which he sold his Master--it was less than four pounds of our money, though the value of this sum was much greater then--proves that there must have been another motive. The traditional conception is inconsistent with Christ's choice of him to be a disciple; and it is irreconcilable with the tragic greatness of his repentance. His view of Christ's enterprise was no doubt of a material cast: he expected Christ to be a king, and hoped to hold a high place in His court: but these ideas were common to all the disciples, who to the very end were waiting to see their Master throw off the cloak of His humble condition and take to Himself His great power and reign; only they left the time and the means in their Master's hands, not venturing to criticise His proceedings. Judas was not so patient. He was a man of energy and practicality, and he allowed himself to believe that he had discerned a defect in the character of his Master. Jesus was too spiritual and unworldly for the enterprise on which he had embarked--too much occupied with healing, preaching and speculating. These would be well enough when once the kingdom was established; but He was losing His opportunities. His delay had turned against Him the authoritative classes. One vast force, indeed, was still on His side--the enthusiasm of the populace--but even of it He was not taking advantage. When, on Palm Sunday, He was borne into the capital by a crowd throbbing with Messianic expectation, He seemed to have in His hand what Judas supposed to be the object of His life; but He did nothing, and the crowd dispersed, disappointed and disheartened. What Jesus required was to be precipitated into a situation where He would be compelled to act. He lacked energy and decision; but, if He were delivered into the hands of the authorities, who were known to be seeking His life, He could hesitate no longer. When they laid hands on Him, He would of course liberate Himself from them, and His miraculous power would exhibit itself in forms so irresistible as to awaken universal enthusiasm. Thus would His kingdom be set up in magnificence; and the man whom the king would delight to honour would surely be the humble follower by whose shrewdness and audacity the crisis had been brought about. II. Even if this were the true history of Judas, his conduct would not, perhaps, be as innocent as it looks. In the course of His life our Lord had frequently to deal with persons who attempted, from what appeared to themselves to be good motives, to interfere with His plans--to precipitate Him into action before His time or to restrain Him when His time had come--and He always resented such interference with indignation. Even His own mother was not spared when she played this part. To do God's will exactly, neither more nor less, neither anticipating it nor lagging behind it, was the inner-most principle of the life of Jesus; and He treated any interference with it as a suggestion of the Evil One. Still the theory will not hold water. The Scriptures know nothing of it, and it is inconsistent with the tone of moral repulsion in which they speak of Judas. Besides, they assign a totally different motive. They affirm that Judas was a thief and stole out of the bag from which Jesus gave to the poor and supplied His own wants--a sacrilege which most thieves would have scorned. It is in entire accordance with this that the word with which he approached the Sanhedrim was, "How much will ye give me?" That he was willing to accept so little proves how strong his passion was. It is altogether impossible that a character of this kind can have been combined with the generous although mistaken enthusiasm which the theory attributes to him.[1] But, on the other hand, the passion of avarice may easily have been nourished by brooding with disappointment on Messianic visions; and the theory of De Quincey may supply important hints for unravelling the mystery of his career. There can be no doubt that at one time the life of Judas seemed full of promise. Jesus, who was so strict about permitting any to follow Him, would not have chosen him into the apostolic circle unless he had exhibited enthusiasm for His person and His cause. He well knew, indeed, that in his motives there was a selfish alloy; but this was the case with all His followers; and fellowship with Himself was the fire in which the alloy was to be purged out. In the other apostles this process actually took place: they were refined by fellowship with Him. Their worldliness, indeed, remained to the end of His earthly career, but it was growing less and less; and other ties, stronger than their hopes of earthly glory, were slowly but surely binding them indissolubly to His cause. In Judas, on the contrary, the reverse process took place: what was good in him grew less and less, and at last the sole bond which held him to Christ was what he could make out of the connection. When the suspicion first dawned on him that the hope of a Messianic kingdom was not to be fulfilled, the inner man of Judas underwent a critical change. This happened a year before the end, on the occasion when Christ resisted the attempt of His followers to take Him by force and make Him a king, and when many of His disciples went back and walked no more with Him. At that time Jesus warned Judas against the evil spirit which he was allowing to take possession of his mind by the strong saying, "Have I not chosen you twelve? and one of you is a devil." But the disciple did not heed the warning. Perhaps it was at this stage that he commenced to steal from the bag which he carried. He felt that he must have some tangible reward for following Christ, and he justified his peculation by saying to himself that what he was taking was infinitely less than he had been led to expect. He regarded himself as an ill-used man. Under the practice of this secret sin his character could not but rapidly deteriorate. Jesus dropped a word of warning now and then; but it had the reverse of the desired effect. Judas knew that Jesus knew; and he grew to hate Him. This was by far the worst aspect of the case. The other disciples were becoming more and more attached to their Master, because they felt increasingly how much they owed Him; but Judas did not feel that he owed Him anything: on the contrary, his feeling was that he had been betrayed. Why should he not betray in turn? There may even have been an element of scorn in selling Christ for so little. More than one of the Evangelists seem to connect the treachery of Judas directly with the scene at Bethany in which Mary anointed Jesus with costly ointment. Apparently this beautiful act brought all the evil in his heart to such a head that an outbreak could no longer be deferred. His spite found vent in the angry contention that the money ought to have been given to the poor. It was a large sum, off which he could have taken an unusually large slice of booty. But probably there was more in the occasion to incense Judas. To him this feasting and anointing, at the moment when the crisis of Christ's fortunes had obviously come, appeared sheer folly; as a practical man he despised it. It was manifest that the game was up; a leader loitering and dreaming in this fashion at the crisis of his fate was doomed. It was time to get out of the ship, for it was clearly sinking; but he would do so in such a way as to gratify his resentment, his scorn and his love of money all at once. Thus the master-passion of Judas was nourished from potent springs. But, indeed, avarice in itself is one of the most powerful of motives. In the teaching of the pulpit it may seldom be noticed, but both in Scripture and in history it occupies a prominent place. It is questionable if anything else makes so many ill deeds to be done. Avarice breaks all the commandments. Often has it put the weapon into the hand of the murderer; in most countries of the world it has in every age made the ordinary business of the market-place a warfare of falsehood; the bodies of men and the hearts of women have been sold for gold. Why is it that gigantic wrongs flourish from age to age, and practices utterly indefensible are continued with the overwhelming sanction of society? It is because there is money in them. Avarice is a passion of demonic strength; but it may help us to keep it out of our hearts to remember that it was the sin of Judas. III. The repentance of Judas is alleged as the sign of a superior spirit. Certainly it is an indication of the goodness which he once possessed, because it is only by the light of a spark of goodness that the darkness of sin can be perceived; and the more the conscience has been enlightened the severer is the reaction when it is outraged. Those who have in any degree shared the company of Christ can never afterwards be as if they had not enjoyed this privilege; and religion, if it does not save, will be the cruellest element in the soul's perdition. It is not certain at what point the reaction in the mind of Judas set in.[2] There were many incidents of the trial well calculated to awaken in him a revulsion of feeling. At length, however, the retributive powers of conscience were thoroughly aroused--those powers which in all literature have formed the theme of the deepest tragedy; which in the Bible are typified by Cain, escaping as a fugitive and a vagabond from the cry of his brother's blood; which in Greek literature are shadowed forth by the terrible figures of the Eumenides, with gorgon faces and blood-dropping eyes, following silently but remorselessly those upon whose track they have been set; and which in Shakespeare are represented in the soul-curdling scenes of Macbeth and Richard III. He was seized with an uncontrollable desire to undo what he had done. The money, on which his heart had been set, was now like a spectre to his excited fancy. Every coin seemed to be an eye through which eternal justice was gazing at his crime or to have a tongue crying out for vengeance. As the murderer is irresistibly drawn back to the spot where his victim lies, he returned to the place where his deed of treachery had been transacted and, confronting those by whom he had been employed, handed back the money with the passionate confession, "I have betrayed innocent blood." But he had come to miserable comforters. With cynical disdain they asked, "What is that to us? See thou to that." They had been cordial enough to him when he had come before, but now, after the instrument has served their turn, they fling it contemptuously aside. The miserable man had to turn away from the scorn of the partners of his guilt; but he could keep the money no longer--it was burning in his hands--and, before escaping from the precincts, he flung it down. This is said to have happened in that part of the temple which could be entered only by the priests;[3] and he must either have made a rush across the forbidden threshold or availed himself of an open door to fling it in. Not only did he desire to be rid of it, but a passionate impulse urged him to leave with the priests their own share of the guilt. Then he rushed away from the temple. But where was he going? Oh that it had been in him to flee to Christ--that, breaking through all obstacles and rules, he had rushed to Him wherever He was to be found and cast himself at His feet! What if the soldiers had cut him down? Then he would have been the martyr of penitence, and that very day he would have been with Christ in Paradise. Judas repented of his sin; he confessed it; he cast from him the reward of iniquity; but his penitence lacked the element which is most essential of all--he did not turn to God. True repentance is not the mere horror and excitement of a terrified conscience: it is the call of God; it is letting go the evil because the good has prevailed; it includes faith as well as fear. IV. The manner of his end is also used as an argument in favour of the more honourable view of Judas. The act of suicide is one which has not infrequently been invested with a glamour of romance, and to go out of life the Roman way, as it is called, has been considered, even by Christians, an evidence of unusual strength of mind. The very reverse is, however, the true character of suicide: except in those melancholy cases where the reason is impaired, it must be pronounced the most contemptible act of which a human being is capable. It is an escape from the burdens and responsibilities of existence; but these burdens and responsibilities are left to be borne by others, and along with them is left an intolerable heritage of shame. From a religious point of view it appears in a still worse light. Not only does the suicide, as even heathen writers have argued, desert the post of duty where Providence has placed him, but he virtually denies the character and even the existence of God. He denies His character, for, if he believed in His mercy and love, he would flee to instead of from Him; and he denies His existence, for no one who believed that he was to meet God on the other side of the veil would dare in this disorderly way to rush into His presence. The mode of Judas' suicide was characteristically base. Hanging does not appear to have been at all usual among the Jews. In the entire Old Testament there is said to occur only a single case; and, strange to say, it is that of the man who, in the principal act of his life also, was the prototype of Judas. Ahithophel, the counsellor and friend of David, betrayed his master, as Judas betrayed Christ; and he came to the same ignominious end. It would seem, further, that the hanging of Judas was accompanied with circumstances of unusual horror. This we gather from the account in the beginning of Acts.[4] The terms employed are obscure; but they probably signify that the suicidal act was attended by a clumsy accident, in consequence of which the body, being suspended over a precipice and suddenly dropped by the snapping of the rope, was mangled in a shocking manner, which made a profound impression on all who heard of it.[5] And this sense of his end being accursed was further accentuated in the minds of the early Christians by the circumstance that the money for which he had sold Christ was eventually used for the purchase of a graveyard for burying strangers in. The priests, though they picked up the coins from the floor over which Judas had strewn them, did not, scrupulous men, consider them good enough to be put in the sacred treasury; so they applied them to this purpose. The public wit, hearing of it, dubbed the place the Field of Blood; and thus the cemetery became a kind of monument to the traitor, of which he took possession as the first of the outcasts for whom it was designed. The world has agreed to regard Judas as the chief of sinners; but, in so judging, it has exceeded its prerogative. Man is not competent to judge his brother. The master-passion of Judas was a base one; Dante may be right in considering treachery the worst of crimes; and the supreme excellence of Christ affixes an unparalleled stigma to the injury inflicted on Him. But the motives of action are too hidden, and the history of every deed is too complicated, to justify us in saying who is the worst of men. It is not at all likely that those whom human opinion would rank highest in merit or saintliness will be assigned the same positions in the rewards of the last day; and it is just as unlikely that human estimates are right when they venture to assign the degrees of final condemnation. Two things it is our duty to do in regard to Judas: first, not so to palliate his sin as to blunt the healthy, natural abhorrence of it; and, secondly, not to think of him as a sinner apart and alone, with a nature so different from our own that to us he can be no example. But for the rest, there is only one verdict which is at once righteous, dignified and safe; and it is contained in the declaration of St. Peter, that he "went to his own place." [1] Hanna, in _The Last Day of Our Lord's Passion_, attempts to combine both motives, but without being able really to unite them; they remain as distinct as oil and water. [2] If, as St. Matthew seems to indicate, Judas disappeared from the scene long before the end of the trial, this is strongly against the theory of De Quincey, according to which he must have stayed to the last moment, hoping to see Jesus assert Himself. [3] _En to nao_. [4] St. Matthew knows best the beginning, St. Luke the end of the story. [5] De Quincey's interpretation of the words as a description of mental anguish must be felt by every reader of the brilliant essay to be forced and unnatural. CHAPTER X. VIA DOLOROSA We have finished the first part of our theme--the Trial of Jesus--and turn now to the second and more solemn part of it--His Death. The trial had been little better than a mockery of justice: on the part of the ecclesiastical authority it was a foregone conclusion, and on the part of the civil authority it was the surrender of a life acknowledged to be innocent to the ends of selfishness and policy. But at last it was over, and nothing remained but to carry the unjust sentence into execution. So the tribunal of Pilate was closed for the day; the precincts of the palace were deserted by the multitude; and the procession of death was formed. I. Persons condemned to death in modern times are allowed a few weeks, or at least days, to prepare for eternity; but Jesus was crucified the same day on which He was condemned. There was a merciful law of Rome in existence at the time, ordaining that ten days should intervene between the passing of a capital sentence and its execution; but either this was not intended for use in the provinces or Jesus was judged to be outside the scope of its mercy, because He had made Himself a king. At all events He was hurried straight from the judgment-seat to the place of execution, without opportunity for preparation or farewells. Of course the sentence was carried out by the soldiers of Pilate. St. John, indeed, speaks as if Pilate had simply surrendered Him into the hands of the Jews, and they had seen to the execution. But this only means that the moral responsibility was theirs. They did everything in their power to identify themselves with the deed. So intent were they on the death of Jesus, that they could not leave the work to the proper parties, but followed the executioners and superintended their operations. The actual work, however, was performed by the hands of Roman soldiers with a centurion at their head. In this country executions are now carried out in private, inside the walls of the prison in which the criminal has been confined. Not many years ago, however, they took place in public; and not many generations ago the procession of death made a tour of the public streets, that the condemned man might come under the observation and maledictions of as many of the public as possible. This also was the manner of Christ's death. Both among the Jews and the Romans executions took place outside the gate of the city. The traditional scene of Christ's death, over which the Church of the Holy Sepulchre is built, is inside the present walls, but those who believe in its authenticity maintain that it was outside the wall of that date. This, however, is extremely doubtful; and, indeed, it is quite uncertain outside which gate of the city the execution took place. The name Calvary or Golgotha probably indicates that the spot was a skull-like knoll; but there is no reason to think that it was a hill of the size supposed by designating it Mount Calvary. Indeed, there is no hill near any gate corresponding to the image in the popular imagination. In modern Jerusalem there is a street pointed out as the veritable _Via Dolorosa_ along which the procession passed; but this also is more than doubtful. Like ancient Rome, ancient Jerusalem is buried beneath the rubbish of centuries.[1] From the scene of the trial to the supposed site of the execution is nearly a mile. And it is quite possible that Jesus may have had to travel as far or farther, while an ever-increasing multitude of spectators gathered round the advancing procession. One special indignity connected with the punishment of crucifixion was that the condemned man had to carry on his back through the streets the cross upon which he was about to suffer. In pictures the cross of Jesus is generally represented as a lofty structure, such as a number of men would have been needed to carry; but the reality was something totally different: it was not much above the height of a man,[2] and there was just enough of wood to support the body. But the weight was considerable, and to carry it on the back which had been torn with scourging must have been excessively painful. Another source of intense pain was the crown of thorns, if, indeed, He still wore it. We are told that before the procession set out towards Golgotha the robes of mockery were taken off and His own garments put on; but it is not said that the crown of thorns was removed. Most cruel of all, however, was the shame. There was a kind of savage irony in making the man carry the implement on which he was to suffer; and, in point of fact, throughout classical literature this mode of punishment is a constant theme of savage banter and derision.[3] There is evidence that the imagination of Jesus had occupied itself specially beforehand with this portion of His sufferings. Long before the end He had predicted the kind of death He should die; but even before these predictions had commenced He had described the sacrifices which would have to be made by those who became His disciples as cross-bearing--as if this were the last extreme of suffering and indignity. Did He so call it simply because His knowledge of the world informed Him of this as one of the greatest indignities of human life? or was it the foreknowledge that He Himself was to be one day in this position which coloured His language? We can hardly doubt that the latter was the case. And now the hour on which His imagination had dwelt was come, and in weakness and helplessness He had to bear the cross in the sight of thousands who regarded Him with scorn. To a noble spirit there is no trial more severe than shame--to be the object of cruel mirth and insolent triumph. Jesus had the lofty and refined self-consciousness of one who never once had needed to cringe or stoop. He loved and honoured men too much not to wish to be loved and honoured by them; He had enjoyed days of unbounded popularity, but now His soul was filled with reproach to the uttermost; and He could have appropriated the words of the Psalm, "I am a worm and no man; a reproach of men and despised of the people." The reproach of Christ is all turned into glory now; and it is very difficult to realise how abject the reality was. Nothing perhaps brings this out so well as the fact that two robbers were sent away to be executed with Him. This has been regarded as a special insult offered to the Jews by Pilate, who wished to show how contemptuously he could treat One whom he affected to believe their king. But more likely it is an indication of how little more Christ was to the Roman officials than any one of the prisoners whom they put through their hands day by day. Pilate, no doubt, had been interested and puzzled more than usual; but, after all, Jesus was only one of many; His execution could be made part of the same job with that of the other prisoners on hand. And so the three, bearing their crosses, issued from the gates of the palace together and took the Dolorous Way. II. Though He bore His own cross out of the palace of Pilate, He was not able to carry it far. Either He sank beneath it on the road or He was proceeding with such slow and faltering steps that the soldiers, impatient of the delay, recognised that the burden must be removed from His shoulders. The severity of the scourging was in itself sufficient to account for this breakdown; but, besides, we are to consider the sleepless night through which He had passed, with its anxiety and abuse; and before it there had been the agony of Gethsemane. No wonder His exhaustion had reached a point at which it was absolutely impossible for Him to proceed farther with such a burden. One or two of the soldiers might have relieved Him; but, in the spirit of horseplay and mischief which had characterised their part of the proceedings from the moment when Christ fell into their hands, they lay hold of a casual passer-by and requisitioned his services for the purpose. He was coming in from the region beyond the gate as they were going out, and they acted under the sanction of military law or custom. To the man it must have been an extreme annoyance and indignity. Doubtless he was bent on business of his own, which had to be deferred. His family or his friends might be waiting for him, but he was turned the opposite way. To touch the instrument of death was as revolting to him as it would be to us to handle the hangman's rope; perhaps more so, because it was Passover time, and this would make him ceremonially unclean. It was a jest of the soldiers, and he was their laughing-stock. As he walked by the side of the robbers, it looked as if he were on the way to execution himself. This is a lively image of the cross-bearing to which the followers of Christ are called. We are wont to speak of trouble of any kind as a cross; and doubtless any kind of trouble may be borne bravely in the name of Christ. But, properly speaking, the cross of Christ is what is borne in the act of confessing Him or for the sake of His work. When anyone makes a stand for principle, because he is a Christian, and takes the consequences in the shape of scorn or loss, this is the cross of Christ. The pain you may feel in speaking to another in Christ's name, the sacrifice of comfort or time you may make in engaging in Christian work, the self-denial you exercise in giving of your means that the cause of Christ may spread at home or abroad, the reproach you may have to bear by identifying yourself with militant causes or with despised persons, because you believe they are on Christ's side--in such conduct lies the cross of Christ. It involves trouble, discomfort and sacrifice. One may fret under it, as Simon did; one may sink under it, as Jesus did Himself; it is ugly, painful, shameful often; but no disciple is without it. Our Master said, "He that taketh not his cross and followeth after Me is not worthy of Me." III. The one thing which makes Simon an imperfect type of the cross-bearer is that we are uncertain whether or not he bore the burden voluntarily. The Roman soldiers forced it on him; but was it force-work and nothing else? Some have supposed that he was an adherent of Christ; but it is extremely improbable that, just at the moment when the soldiers needed someone for their purpose, one of the very few followers of Jesus should have appeared. The tone of the narrative seems rather to indicate that he was one who happened to be there by mere chance and had nothing to do with the proceedings till, against his will, he was made an actor in the drama. He is said by the Evangelist to have been a Cyrenian, that is, an inhabitant of Cyrene, a city in North Africa. Strangers from this place are mentioned among those who were present soon after at the Feast of Pentecost, when the Holy Spirit descended on the Church in tongues of fire. And the probability is that Simon had, in a similar way, come from his distant home to the Passover.[4] He had come on pilgrimage. Perhaps he was a devout soul, waiting for the consolation of Israel. In far Cyrene he may have been praying for the coming of the Messiah and, before setting out on this journey, pleading for a season of unusual blessing. God had heard and was going to answer his prayers, but in a way totally different from his expectations. For apparently this _rencontre_ issued in his salvation and in the salvation of his house. The Evangelist calls him familiarly "the father of Alexander and Rufus." Evidently the two sons were well known to those for whom St. Mark was writing; that is, they were members of the Christian circle. And there can be little doubt that the connection of his family with the Church was the result of this incident in the father's life. St. Mark wrote his Gospel for the Christians of Rome; and in the Epistle to the Romans one Rufus is mentioned as resident there along with his mother. This may be one of the sons of Simon. And in Acts xiii. 1 one Simeon--the same name as Simon--is mentioned along with a Lucius of Cyrene as a conspicuous Christian at Antioch: he is called Niger, or Black, a name not surprising for one who had been tanned by the hot sun of Africa. There are Alexanders mentioned elsewhere in the New Testament; but the name was common, and there is not much probability that any of them is to be identified with Simon's son. Still putting the details aside, we have sufficiently clear indications that in consequence of this incident Simon became a Christian. Is it not a significant fact, proving that nothing happens by chance? Had Simon entered the city one hour sooner, or one hour later, his after history might have been entirely different. On the smallest circumstances the greatest results may hinge. A chance meeting may determine the weal or woe of a life. Doubtless to Simon this encounter seemed at the moment the most unfortunate incident that could have befallen him--an interruption, an annoyance and a humiliation; yet it turned out to be the gateway of life. Thus do blessings sometimes come in disguise, and out of an apparition, at the sight of which we cry out for fear, may suddenly issue the form of the Son of Man. But it was not Simon's own salvation only that was involved in this singular experience, but that of his family as well. How much may follow when Christ is revealed to any human soul! The salvation of those yet unborn may be involved in it--of children and children's children. But think how blessed to Simon would appear in after days the cross-bearing which was at the time so bitter! No doubt it became the romance of his life. And to this day who can help envying him for being allowed to give his strength to the fainting Saviour and to remove the burden from that bleeding and smarting back? So for all men there is a day coming when any service they have done to Christ will be the memory of which they will be most proud. It will not be the recollection of the prizes we have won, the pleasures we have enjoyed, the discomforts we have escaped, that will come back to us with delight as we review life from its close; but, if we have denied ourselves and borne the cross for Christ's sake, the memory of that will be a pillow soft and satisfying for a dying head. In that day we shall wish that the minutes given to Christ's service had been years, and the pence pounds; and every cup of cold water and every word of sympathy and every act of self denial will be so pleasant to remember that we shall wish they had been multiplied a thousandfold. [1] Interesting details in Ross's _Cradle of Christianity_. [2] A soldier was able to reach up to the lips of Christ on the cross with a sponge on a reed. [3] See Horace, S. ii. 7, 47; E. i. 16, 48. [4] Many Jews, indeed, who had once been inhabitants of Cyrene lived in Jerusalem--old people, probably, who had come to lay their bones in holy ground; for we learn from an incidental notice in the Acts that they had a synagogue of their own in the city; and Simon may have been one of these. But the other is the more likely case. CHAPTER XI. THE DAUGHTERS OF JERUSALEM There are many legends clustering round this portion of our Lord's history. It is narrated, for example, that, when the divine Sufferer, burdened with the cross, was creeping along feebly and slowly, He leaned against the door of a house which stood in the way, when the occupier, striking a blow, commanded Him to hurry on; to which the Lord, turning to His assailant, replied, "Thou shall go on and never stop till I come again;" and to this day, unable to find either rest or death, the miserable man still posts over the earth, and shall continue doing so until the Lord's return. This is the legend of the Wandering Jew, which assumed many forms in the lore of other days and still plays a somewhat prominent part in literature. It is, I suppose, a fantastic representation, in the person of an individual, of the tragic fate of the Jewish race, which, since the day when it laid violent hands on the Son of God, has had no rest for the sole of its foot. To another story of the _Via Dolorosa_ as distinguished a place has been given in art as to the legend of the Wandering Jew in literature. Veronica, a lady in Jerusalem, seeing Christ, as He passed by, sinking beneath His burden, came out of her house and with a towel washed away the blood and perspiration from His face. And lo! when she examined the napkin with which the charitable act had been performed, it bore a perfect likeness of the Man of Sorrows. Some of the greatest painters have reproduced this scene, and it may be understood as teaching the lesson that even the commonest things in life, when employed in acts of mercy, are stamped with the image and superscription of Christ. In Roman Catholic churches there may generally be seen round the walls a series of about a dozen pictures, taken from this part of our Lord's life. They are denominated the Stations of the Cross, because the worshippers, going round, stop to look and meditate on the different scenes. In Catholic countries the same idea is sometimes carried out on a more imposing scale. On a knoll or hill in the neighbourhood of a town three lofty crosses stand; the road to them through the town is called _Via Calvarii_, and at intervals along the way the scenes of our Lord's sad journey are represented by large frescoes or bas-reliefs. But we really know for certain of only two incidents of the _Via Dolorosa_--that in which our Lord was relieved of His cross by Simon the Cyrenian and that, which we are now to consider, of the sympathetic daughters of Jerusalem. I. The reader of the history of our Lord in its last stages is sated with horrors. In some of the scenes through which we have recently accompanied Him we have seemed to be among demons rather than men. The mind longs for something to relieve the monstrous spectacles of fanatic hate and cold-blooded cruelty. Hence this scene is most welcome, in which a blink of sunshine falls on the path of woe, and we are assured that we need not lose faith in the human heart. It was, indeed, a surprising demonstration. It would hardly have been credited, had it not there been made manifest, that Jesus had so strong a hold upon any section of the population of Jerusalem. In the capital He had always found the soil very unreceptive. Jerusalem was the headquarters of rabbinic learning and priestly arrogance--the home of the Pharisee and the Sadducee, who guided public opinion; and there, from first to last, He had made few adherents. It was in the provinces, especially in Galilee, that He had been the idol of the populace. It was by the Galilean pilgrims to the Passover that He was convoyed into the capital with shouts of Hosanna; but the inhabitants of the city stood coldly aloof, and before Pilate's judgment-seat they cried out, "Crucify Him, crucify Him!" Yet now it turns out that He has touched the heart of one section at least even of this community: "There followed Him a great company of people and of women, which[1] also bewailed and lamented Him." Some have considered this so extraordinary that they have held these women to be Galileans; but Jesus addressed them as "daughters of Jerusalem." The Galilean men who had surrounded Him in His hour of triumph put in no appearance now in His hour of despair; but the women of Jerusalem broke away from the example of the men and paid the tribute of tears to His youth, character and sufferings. It is said that there was a Jewish law forbidding the showing of any sympathy to a condemned man; but, if so, this demonstration was all the more creditable to those who took part in it. The upwelling of their emotion was too sincere to be dammed back by barriers of law and custom. It is said there is no instance in the Gospels of a woman being an enemy of Jesus. No woman deserted or betrayed, persecuted or opposed Him. But women followed Him, they ministered to Him of their substance, they washed His feet with tears, they anointed His head with spikenard; and now, when their husbands and brothers were hounding Him to death, they accompanied Him with weeping and wailing to the scene of martyrdom.[2] It is a great testimony to the character of Christ on the one hand and to that of woman on the other. Woman's instinct told her, however dimly she at first apprehended the truth, that this was the Deliverer for her. Because, while Christ is the Saviour of all, He has been specially the Saviour of woman. At His advent, her degradation being far deeper than that of men, she needed Him more; and, wherever His gospel has travelled since then, it has been the signal for her emancipation and redemption. His presence evokes all the tender and beautiful qualities which are latent in her nature; and under His influence her character experiences a transfiguration.[3] It has, indeed, been contended that there was no great depth in the emotion of the daughters of Jerusalem; and we need not deny the fact. Their emotion was no outburst of faith and repentance, carrying with it revolutionary effects, as tears may sometimes be. It was an overflow of natural feeling, such as might have been caused by any pathetic instance of misfortune. It was not unlike the tears which may be still made to flow from the eyes of the tender-hearted by a moving account of the sufferings of Christ; and we know that such emotions are sometimes far from lasting. Our nature consists of several strata, of which emotion is the most superficial; and it is not enough that religion should operate in this uppermost region; it must be thrust down, through emotion, into the deeper regions, such as the conscience and the will, and catch hold and kindle there, before it can achieve the mastery of the entire being. But this response of womanhood to Christ was a beginning; and therein lay its significance. It was to Him a foretaste of the splendid devotion which He was yet to receive from the womanhood of the world. It was as welcome to Him in that hour of desertion and reproach as is the sight of a tuft of grass to the thirsty traveller in the desert. The sounds of sympathy flowed over His soul as gratefully as the gift of Mary's love enveloped His senses when the house was filled with the odour of the ointment. Thus in the _Via Dolorosa_ Jesus experienced two alleviations of His suffering: the strength of a man relieved His body of the burden of the cross, and the pain of His soul was cooled by the sympathy of women. Is it not a parable--a parable of what men and women can do for Him still? Christ needs the strength of men--the strong arm, the vigorous hand, the shoulders that can bear the burden of His cause; He seeks from men the mind whose originality can plan what needs to be done, the resolute will that pushes the work on in spite of opposition, the liberal hand that gives ungrudgingly what is required for the progress and success of the Christian enterprise. From women he seeks sympathy and tears. They can give the sensibility which keeps the heart of the world from hardening; the secret knowledge which finds out the objects of Christian compassion and wins their confidence; the enthusiasm which burns like a fire at the heart of religious work. The influence of women is subtle and remote; but it is on this account all the more powerful; for they sit at the very fountains, where the river of human life is springing, and where a touch may determine its entire subsequent course. II. It has been allowed to condemned men in all ages to speak to the crowds assembled to witness their death. The dying speech used in this country to be a regular feature of executions. Even in ages of persecution the martyrs were usually allowed, as they ascended the ladder, to address the multitude; and these testimonies, some of which were of singular power and beauty, were treasured by the religious section of the community. It is nothing surprising, therefore, that Jesus should have addressed those who followed Him or should have been permitted to do so. No doubt He was at the last point of exhaustion, but, when He was relieved of the weight of the cross, He was able to rally strength sufficient for this effort. Pausing in the road and turning to the women, whose weeping and wailing were filling His ears, He addressed Himself to them. His words are, in the first place, a revelation of Himself. They show what was demonstrated again and again during the crucifixion--how completely He could forget His own sufferings in care and anxiety for others. His sufferings had already been extreme; His soul had been filled with injustice and insult; at this very moment His body was quivering with pain and His mind darkened with the approach of still more atrocious agonies. Yet, when He heard behind Him the sobs of the daughters of Jerusalem, there rushed over His soul a wave of compassion in which for the moment His own troubles were submerged. We see in His words, too, the depth and fervour of His patriotism. When He saw the tears of the women, the spectacle raised in His mind an image of the doom impending over the city whose daughters they were. Jerusalem, as has been already said, had always been extremely unresponsive to Him; she had played to Him an unmotherly part. None the less, however, did He feel for her the love of a loyal son. He had shown this a few days before, when, in the midst of His triumph, He paused on the brow of Olivet, where the city came into view, and burst into a flood of tears, accompanied with such a lyric cry of affection as has never been addressed to any other city on earth. Subsequently, sitting with His disciples over against the temple, He showed how well He foreknew the terrible fate which hung over the capital of His country, and how poignantly He felt it. The city's doom was nigh at hand: less than half a century distant: and it was to be unparalleled in its horror. The secular historian of it, himself a Jew, says in his narrative: "There has never been a race on earth, and there never will be one, whose sufferings can be matched with those of Jerusalem in the days of the siege." It was the foresight of this which made Jesus now say, "Daughters of Jerusalem, weep not for Me, but weep for yourselves and for your children." His words, still further, reveal His consideration for women and children. The tears of the women displayed an appreciation and sympathy for Him such as the men were incapable of; but well did He deserve them, for His words show that He had a comprehension of women and a sympathy with them such as had never before existed in the world. With the force of the imagination and the heart He realised how, in the approaching siege, the heaviest end of the misery would fall on the female portion of the population, and how the mothers would be wounded through their children. In that country, where children were regarded as the crown and glory of womanhood, the currents of nature would be so completely reversed by the madness of hunger and pain that barrenness would be esteemed fortunate; and in a country where length of days had been considered the supreme blessing of life they would long and cry for sudden and early death. So it actually turned out. An outstanding feature of the siege of Jerusalem, according to the secular historian, was the suffering of the women and children. Besides using every other device of warfare, the Romans deliberately resorted to starvation, and the inhabitants endured the uttermost extremities of hunger. So frenzied did the men become at last that every extra mouth requiring to be filled became an object of delirious suspicion, and the last morsels were snatched from the lips of the women and children. One is tempted to quote some of the stories of Josephus about this, but they are so awful that it would be scarcely decent to repeat them. This was what the quick sympathy of Jesus enabled Him to divine; and His compassion gushed forth towards those who were to be the chief sufferers. Women and children--how irreverently they have been thought of, how callously and brutally treated, since history began! Yet they are always the majority of the human race. Praise be to Him who lifted them, and is still lifting them, out of the dust of degradation and ill-usage, and who put in on their behalf the plea of justice and mercy! Finally, there was in the words addressed to the daughters of Jerusalem an exhortation to repentance. When Jesus said, "Weep for yourselves and for your children," He was referring not merely to the approaching calamities of the city, but to its guilt. This was indicated most clearly in the closing words of His address to them--"For if they do these things in a green tree, what shall be done in the dry?" He could speak of Himself as a green tree. He was young and He was innocent; to this the tears of the women testified; there was no reason why He should die; yet God permitted all these things to happen to Him. The Jewish nation ought also to have been a green tree. God had planted and tended it; it had enjoyed every advantage; but, when He came seeking fruit on it, He found none. It was withered; the sap of virtue and godliness had gone out of it; it was dry and ready for the burning; and, when the enemy came to apply the firebrand, why should God interpose? Thus did Jesus attempt once more to awaken repentance. He wished to thrust the impressions of the daughters of Jerusalem down from the region of feeling into a deeper place. They had given Him tears of emotion; He desired, besides these, tears of contrition; for in religion nothing is accomplished till impression touches the conscience. Whether any of them responded in earnest we cannot tell. Not many, it is to be feared. Nor can we tell whether by repentance the destruction of the Jewish state might still have been averted. At all events, the fire of invasion soon fell on the dry tree, and it was burnt up. And since then those who would not weep for their sins before the stroke of punishment fell have had to weep without ceasing. Visitors to Jerusalem at the present day are conducted to a spot called the Place of Wailing, where every Friday representatives of the race weep for the destruction of their city and temple.[4] This has gone on for centuries; and it is only a symbol of the cup of astonishment, filled to the brim, which has during many centuries been held to the lips of Israel. Sin must be wept for some time--if not before punishment has fallen, then after; if not in time, then in eternity. This is a lesson for all. And has not that final word of Jesus a meaning for us even more solemn than it had for those to whom it was first addressed--"If these things be done in a green tree, what shall be done in the dry?" If woe and anguish fell, as they did, even on the Son of God, when He was bearing the sins of the world, what will be the portion of those who have to bear their own? [1] The participle refers to the women alone. [2] "How slow we have been to ask our _sister_ members to help us!--although we read of deaconesses in the early Church, and although we do not read of a single woman who was unkind and unfaithful to the Saviour while here upon earth. Men were diabolic in their cruelty to Him, but never did a woman betray Him, mock Him, desert Him, nor spit in His face. Many of them cheered Him on His way to the Cross, washing His feet with tears before men pierced them with nails, anointing His head with precious perfume in anticipation of the thorns with which men crowned Him. They wept with Him on the way to Calvary, and were true to Him to the very end. And are they not devoted and true to Him still? Why, then, have we been so long in calling for their services?"--E. HERBERT EVANS, D.D. [3] Brace, _Gesta Christi_. [4] Striking description in Baring-Gould, _The Passion of Jesus_, p. 75. CHAPTER XII. CALVARY Anyone writing on the life of our Lord must many a time pause in secret and exclaim to himself, "It is high as heaven, what canst thou do? deeper than hell, what canst thou know?" But we have now arrived at the point where this sense of inadequacy falls most oppressively on the heart. To-day we are to see Christ crucified. But who is worthy to look at this sight? Who is able to speak of it? "Such knowledge is too wonderful for me; it is high; I cannot attain unto it." In the presence of such a subject one feels one's mind to be like some tiny creature at the bottom of the sea--as incapable of comprehending it all as is the crustacean of scooping up the Atlantic in its shell. This spot to which we have come is the centre of all things. Here two eternities meet. The streams of ancient history converge here, and here the river of modern history takes its rise. The eyes of patriarchs and prophets strained forward to Calvary, and now the eyes of all generations and of all races look back to it. This is the end of all roads. The seeker after truth, who has explored the realms of knowledge, comes to Calvary and finds at last that he has reached the centre. The weary heart of man, that has wandered the world over in search of perfect sympathy and love, at last arrives here and finds rest. Think how many souls every Lord's Day, assembled in church and chapel and meeting-house, are thinking of Golgotha! how many eyes are turned thither every day from beds of sickness and chambers of death! "Lord, to whom can we go? Thou hast the words of eternal life." Though, therefore, the theme is too high for us, yet we will venture forward. It is too high for human thought; yet nowhere else is the mind so exalted and ennobled. At Calvary poets have sung their sweetest strains, and artists seen their sublimest visions, and thinkers excogitated their noblest ideas. The crustacean lies at the bottom of the ocean, and the world of waters rolls above it; it cannot in its tiny shell comprehend these leagues upon leagues of solid translucent vastness; and yet the ocean fills its shell and causes its little body to throb with perfect happiness. And so, though we cannot take in all the meaning of the scene before which we stand, yet we can fill mind and heart with it to the brim, and, as it sends through our being the pulsations of a life divine, rejoice that it has a breadth and length, a height and depth, which pass understanding. I. The long journey through the streets to the place of execution was at length ended, and thereby the weary journeyings of the Sufferer came to a close. The soldiers set about their preparations for the last act. But meanwhile a little incident occurred which the behaviour of Jesus filled with significance. The wealthy ladies of Jerusalem had the practice of providing for those condemned to the awful punishment of crucifixion a soporific draught, composed of wine mixed with some narcotic like gall or myrrh,[1] to dull the senses and deaden the pain. It was a benevolent custom; and the cup was offered to all criminals, irrespective of their crimes. It was administered immediately before the frightful work of nailing the culprit to the tree commenced. This draught was handed to Jesus on His arrival at Golgotha. Exhausted with fatigue and burning with thirst, He grasped the cup eagerly and lifted it without suspicion to His lips. But, as soon as He tasted it and felt the fumes of the stupefying ingredient, He laid it down and would not drink. It was a simple act, yet full of heroism. He was in that extremity of thirst when a person will drink almost anything; and He was face to face with outrageous torture. In subsequent times many of His own faithful martyrs, on their way to execution, gladly availed themselves of this merciful provision. But He would not allow His intellect to be clouded. His obedience was not yet complete; His plan was not fully wrought out; He would keep His taste for death pure. I have heard of a woman dying of a frightful malady, who, when she was pressed by those witnessing her agony to take an intoxicating draught, refused, saying, "No, I want to die sober." She had caught, I think, the spirit of Christ. This is a very strange place in which to alight on the problem of the use and abuse of those products of nature or art which induce intoxication or stupefaction. Roots or juices with such properties have been known to nearly all races, the savage as well as the civilised; and they have played a great part in the life of mankind. Their history is one of the most curious. They are associated with the mysteries of false religions and with the phenomena of heathen prophecy and witchcraft; acting on the mind through the senses, they open up in it a region of mystery, horror and gloomy magnificence of which the normal man is unconscious. They have always been a favourite resource of the medical art, and in modern times, in such forms as opium and other better-known intoxicants, they have created some of the gravest moral problems. On the wide question of the use of such substances as stimulants we need not at present enter; it is to their use for the opposite purpose of lowering consciousness that this incident draws attention. That in some cases this use is both merciful and permissible will not be denied. The discovery in our own day, by one of our own countrymen, of the use of chloroform is justly regarded as among the greatest benefits ever conferred on the human race. When the unconsciousness thus produced enables the surgeon to perform an operation which might not be possible at all without it, or when in the crisis of a fever the sleep induced by a narcotic gives the exhausted system power to continue the combat and saves the life, we can only be thankful that the science of to-day has such resources in its treasury. On the other hand, however, there are grave offsets to these advantages. Millions of men and women resort to such substances in order to dull the nerves and cloud the brain during pain and sorrow which God intended them to face and bear with sober courage, as Jesus endured His on the cross. On the medical profession rests the responsibility of so using the power placed in their hands as not to destroy the dignity of the most solemn passages of life.[2] It will for ever remain true that pain and trial are the discipline of the soul; but to reel through these crises in the drowsy forgetfulness of intoxication is to miss the best chances of moral and spiritual development. Men and women are made perfect through suffering; but that suffering may do its work it must be felt. There is no greater misfortune than to bear too easily the strokes of God. A bereavement, for example, is sent to sanctify a home; but it may fail of its mission because the household is too busy, or because too many are coming and going, or because tongues, mistakenly kind and garrulous, chatter God's messenger out of doors. It is natural that physicians and kind friends should try to make sufferers forget their grief. But they may be too successful. Though the practice of the ladies of Jerusalem was a benevolent one, the gift mixed by their charitable hands appeared to our Lord a cup of temptation, and He resolutely put it aside. II All was now ready for the last act, and the soldiers started their ghastly work. It is not my intention to harrow up the feelings of my readers with minute descriptions of the horrors of crucifixion.[3] Nothing would be easier, for it was an unspeakably awful form of death. Cicero, who was well acquainted with it, says: "It was the most cruel and shameful of all punishments." "Let it never," he adds, "come near the body of a Roman citizen; nay, not even near his thoughts or eyes or ears." It was the punishment reserved for slaves and for revolutionaries, whose end was intended to be marked by special infamy. The cross was most probably of the form in which it is usually represented--an upright post crossed by a bar near the top. There were other two forms--that of the letter T and that of the letter X--but, as the accusation of Jesus is said to have been put up over His head, there must have been a projection above the bar on which His arms were outstretched. The arms were probably bound to the cross-beam, as without this the hands would have been torn through by the weight. And for a similar reason there was a piece of wood projecting from the middle of the upright beam, on which the body sat. The feet were either nailed separately or crossed the one over the other, with a nail through both. It is doubtful whether the body was affixed before or after the cross was elevated and planted in the ground. The head hung free, so that the dying man could both see and speak to those about the cross. In modern executions the greatest pains are taken to make death as nearly as possible instantaneous, and any bungling which prolongs the agony excites indignation and horror in the public mind. But the most revolting feature of death by crucifixion was that the torture was deliberately prolonged. The victim usually lingered a whole day, sometimes two or three days, still retaining consciousness; while the burning of the wounds in the hands and feet, the uneasiness of the unnatural position, the oppression of overcharged veins and, above all, the intolerable thirst were constantly increasing. Jesus did not suffer so long; but He lingered for four or five hours. I will not, however, proceed further in describing the sickening details. How far all these horrors may have been essential elements in His sufferings it would be difficult to say. Apart from the prophecies going before which had to be fulfilled, was it a matter of indifference what death He died? Would it have served equally well if He had been hanged or beheaded or stoned? We cannot tell. Only, when we know the secret of what His soul suffered, we can discern the fitness of the choice of the most shameful and painful of all forms of death for His body.[4] The true sufferings of Christ were not physical, but internal. Looking on that Face, we see the shadow of a deeper woe than smarting wounds and raging thirst and a racking frame--the woe of slighted love, of a heart longing for fellowship but overwhelmed with hatred; the woe of insult and wrong, and of unspeakable sorrow for the fate of those who would not be saved. Nor is even this the deepest shadow. There was then in the heart of the Redeemer a woe to which no human words are adequate. He was dying for the sin of the world. He had taken on Himself the guilt of mankind, and was now engaged in the final struggle to put it away and annihilate it. On the cross was hanging not only the body of flesh and blood of the Man Christ Jesus, but at the same time His mystical body--that body of which He is the head and His people are the members. Through this body also the nails were driven, and on it death took its revenge. His people died with Him unto sin, that they might live for evermore. This is the mystery, but it is also the glory of the scene. Till He hung on it, the cross was the symbol of slavery and vulgar wickedness; but He converted it into the symbol of heroism, self-sacrifice and salvation. It was only a wretched framework of coarse and blood-clotted beams, which it was a shame to touch; but since then the world has gloried in it; it has been carved in every form of beauty and every substance of price; it has been emblazoned on the flags of nations and engraved on the sceptres and diadems of kings.[5] The cross was planted on Golgotha a dry, dead tree; but lo! it has blossomed like Aaron's rod; it has struck its roots deep down to the heart of the world, and sent its branches upwards, till to-day it fills the earth, and the nations rest beneath its shadow and eat of its pleasant fruits.[6] III. At length the ghastly preparations were completed; and in the greedy eyes of Jewish hatred the Saviour, whom they had hunted to death with the ferocity of bloodhounds, was exposed to full view. But the first triumphant glance of priests, Pharisees and populace met with a violent check; for above the Victim's head they saw something which cut them to the heart. The practice of affixing to the apparatus of execution a description of the crime prevails in some countries to this day. In the Life of Gilmour of Mongolia there is a description of an execution which he witnessed in China; and in the cart which conveyed the condemned man to the scene of death a board was exhibited describing his misdeeds. The custom was a Roman one; and, besides, there was generally an official who walked in front of the procession of death and proclaimed the crimes of the condemned. No mention, however, of such a functionary appears in the Gospels; nor does the inscription appear to have been visible to all till it was affixed to the cross. It was fastened to the top of the upright beam; and Pilate made use of this opportunity to pay out the Jews for the annoyance they had caused him. He had parted from them in anger, for they had humiliated him; but he sent after them that which should be a drop of bitterness in their cup of triumph. When they were still at his judgment-seat, his last blow in his encounter with them had been to pretend to be convinced that Jesus really was their king. This insult he now prolonged by wording the inscription thus: "This is Jesus, the King of the Jews." It was as much as to say, This is what becomes of a Jewish king; this is what the Romans do with him; the king of this nation is a slave, a crucified criminal; and, if such be the king, what must the nation be whose king he is? So enraged were the Jews that they sent a deputation to the governor to entreat him to alter the words. No doubt he was delighted to see them; for their coming proved how thoroughly his sarcasm had gone home. He only laughed at their petition and, assuming the grand air of authority which became no man so well as a Roman, dismissed them with the words, "What I have written I have written." This looked like strength of will and character; but it was in reality only a covering for weakness. He had his will about the inscription--a trifle; but they had their will about the crucifixion. He was strong enough to browbeat them, but he was not strong enough to deny himself. Yet, though the inscription of Pilate was in his own mind little more than a revengeful jest, there was in it a Divine purpose. "What I have written I have written," he said; but, had he known, he might almost have said, "What I have written God has written." Sometimes and at some places the atmosphere is so charged and electric with the Divine that inspiration alights and burns on everything; and never was this more true than at the cross. Pilate had already unconsciously been almost a prophet when, pointing to Jesus, he said, "Behold the Man"--a word which still preaches to the centuries. And now, after being a speaking prophet, he becomes, as has been quaintly remarked, a writing one too; for his pen was guided by a supernatural hand to indite the words, "This is Jesus, the King of the Jews." It added greatly to the significance of the inscription that it was written in Hebrew and Greek and Latin. What Pilate intended thereby was to heighten the insult; he wished all the strangers present at the Passover to be able to read the inscription; for all of them who could read at all would know one of these three languages. But Providence intended something else. These are the three great languages of the ancient world--the representative languages. Hebrew is the tongue of religion, Greek that of culture, Latin the language of law and government; and Christ was declared King in them all. On His head are many crowns. He is King in the religious sphere--the King of salvation, holiness and love; He is King in the realm of culture--the treasures of art, of song, of literature, of philosophy belong to Him, and shall yet be all poured at His feet; He is King in the political sphere--King of kings and Lord of lords, entitled to rule in the social relationships, in trade and commerce, in all the activities of men. We see not yet, indeed, all things put under Him; but every day we see them more and more in the process of being put under Him. The name of Jesus is travelling everywhere over the earth; thousands are learning to pronounce it; millions are ready to die for it. And thus is the unconscious prophecy of Pilate still being fulfilled. [1] One Evangelist says gall, another myrrh, and on this difference harmonists and their antagonists have spent their time; but surely it is not worth while. [2] The distinction between the legitimate and the illegitimate use is not very easy to draw; but there is an obvious difference between destroying pain for an ulterior purpose and destroying it merely to save the feeling of the sufferer. [3] On the details of crucifixion there is an extremely interesting and learned excursus in Zöckler's _Das Kreus Christi_ (Beilage III.). Cicero's Verrine Orations contain a good deal that is valuable to a student of the Passion, especially in regard to scourging and crucifixion. Crucifixion was an extremely common form of punishment in the ancient world; but "the cross of the God-Man has put an end to the punishment of the crow." [4] Zöckler maintains that crucifixion, while the most shameful, was not absolutely the most painful form of death. [5] The appreciation of the significance of the Cross has gone on in two lines--the Artistic and the Doctrinal--both of which arc followed out with varied learning in Zöckler's _Kreus Christi_. The English reader may with great satisfaction trace the artistic development in Mrs. Jameson's _History of our Lord as exemplified in Works of Art_, where the following scheme is given of the varieties of treatment:-- "_Symbolical_, when the abstract personifications of the sun and moon, earth and ocean, are present. "_Sacrificially symbolical_, when the Eucharistic cup is seen below the Cross, or the pelican feeding her young is placed above it. "_Simply doctrinal_, when the Virgin and St. John stand on each side, as solemn witnesses; or our Lord is drinking the cup, sometimes literally so represented, given Him of the Father, while the lance opens the sacramental font. "_Historically ideal_, as when the thieves are joined to the scene, and sorrowing angels throng the air. "_Historically devotional_, as when the real features of the scene are preserved, and saints and devotees are introduced. "_Legendary_, as when we see the Virgin fainting. "_Allegorical and fantastic_, as when the tree is made the principal object, with its branches terminating in patriarchs and prophets, virtues and graces. "_Realistic_, as when the mere event is rendered as through the eyes of an unenlightened looker-on. "These and many other modes of conception account for the great diversity in the treatment of this subject; a further variety being given by the combination of two or more of these modes of treatment together; for instance, the pelican may be seen above the Cross giving her life's blood for her offspring; angels in attitudes of despair, bewailing the Second Person of the Trinity; or, in an ideal sacramental sense, catching the blood from His wounds--the Jews below looking on, as they really did, with contemptuous gestures and hardened hearts; the centurion acknowledging that this was really the Son of God, while the group of the fainting Virgin, supported by the Marys and St. John, adds legend to symbolism, ideality, and history." In the study of the doctrinal development nothing is so important as the exegesis of the New Testament statements about the Cross; and this has been done in a masterly way by Dr. Dale in his work on the Atonement. What may be called the Philosophy of the Cross (to borrow a happy phrase of McCheyne Edgar's) came late. It is usually reckoned to have commenced with Anselm; and since the Reformation every great theologian has added his contribution. Yet the work is by no means completed. Indeed, at the present day there is no greater desideratum in theology than a philosophy of the Cross which would thoroughly satisfy the religious mind. Shallow theories abound; but the Church of Christ will never be able to rest in any theory which does not do justice, on the one hand, to the tremendously strong statements of Scripture on the subject and, on the other, to her own consciousness of unique and infinite obligation to the dying Saviour. Perhaps the most satisfactory expression of the Christian consciousness on the subject is to be found in the hymns of the Church, from the Te Deum down through Scotua Erigena and Fulbert of Chartres to Gerhardt and Toplady. See Schaff's _Christ in Song_. A third line of development might be traced--the Practical--in martyrology, the history of missions, asceticism, and the like; and the spokesman of this branch of the truth is à Kempis, who, as Zöckler says, teaches his disciples to know poverty and humility as the roots of the tree of the Cross, labour and penitence as its bark, righteousness and mercy as its two principal branches, truth and doctrine as its precious leaves, chastity and obedience as its blossoms, temperance and discipline as its fragrance, and salvation and eternal life as its glorious fruit. [6] When the Northern nations became Christian they transferred to the Cross the nobler ideas embodied in the mystic tree Igdrasil; and one of the commonest ideas of the mystical writers of the Middle Ages is the identification of the Cross as both the true tree of life and the true tree of knowledge. CHAPTER XIII. THE GROUPS ROUND THE CROSS In the last chapter we saw the Son of Man nailed to the cursed tree. There He hung for hours, exposed, helpless, but conscious, looking out on the sea of faces assembled to behold His end. On the occasion of an execution a crowd gathers outside our jails merely to see the black flag run up which signals that the deed is done; and in the old days of public executions such an event always attracted an enormous crowd. No doubt it was the same in Jerusalem. When Jesus was put to death, it was Passover time, and the city was filled with multitudes of strangers, to whom any excitement was welcome. Besides, the case of Jesus had stirred both the capital and the entire country.[1] The sight which the crowd had come to see was, we now know, the greatest ever witnessed in the universe. Angels and archangels were absorbed in it; millions of men and women are looking back to it to-day and every day. But what impressions did it make on those who saw it at the time? To ascertain this, let us look at three characteristic groups near the cross, whose feelings were shared in varying degrees by many around them. I. Look, first, at the group nearest the cross--that of the Roman soldiers. In the Roman army it seems to have been a rule that, when executions were carried out by soldiers, the effects of the criminals fell as perquisites to those who did the work. Though many more soldiers were probably present on this occasion, the actual details of fixing the beam, handling the hammer and nails, hoisting the apparatus, and so forth, in the case of Jesus, fell to a quaternion of them. To these four, therefore, belonged all that was on Him; and they could at once proceed to divide the spoil, because in crucifixion the victim was stripped before being affixed to the cross--a trait of revolting shame.[2] A large, loose upper garment, a head-dress perhaps, a girdle and a pair of sandals, and, last of all, an under garment, such as Galilean peasants were wont to wear, which was all of a piece and had perhaps been knitted for Him by the loving fingers of His mother--these articles became the booty of the soldiers. They formed the entire property which Jesus had to leave, and the four soldiers were His heirs. Yet this was He who bequeathed the vastest legacy that ever has been left by any human being--a legacy ample enough to enrich the whole world. Only it was a spiritual legacy--of wisdom, of influence, of example. The soldiers, their ghastly task over, sat down at the foot of the cross to divide their booty. They obtained from it not only profit but amusement; for, after dividing the articles as well as they could, they had to cast lots about the last, which they could not divide. One of them fetched some dice out of his pocket--gambling was a favourite pastime of Roman soldiers--and they settled the difficulty by a game. Look at them--chaffering, chattering, laughing; and, above their heads, not a yard away, that Figure. What a picture! The Son of God atoning for the sins of the world, whilst angels and glorified spirits crowd the walls of the celestial city to look down at the spectacle; and, within a yard of His sacred Person, the soldiers, in absolute apathy, gambling for these poor shreds of clothing! So much, and no more, did they perceive of the stupendous drama they were within touch of. For it is not only necessary to have a great sight to make an impression; quite as necessary is the seeing eye. There are those to whom this earth is sacred because Jesus Christ has trodden it; the sky is sacred because it has bent above Him; history is sacred because His name is inscribed on it; the daily tasks of life are all sacred because they can be done in His name. But are there not multitudes, even in Christian lands, who live as if Christ had never lived, and to whom the question has never occurred, What difference does it make to us that Jesus died in this world of which we are inhabitants? II. Look now at a second group, much more numerous than the first, consisting of the members of the Sanhedrim. After condemning Jesus in their own court, they had accompanied Him through stage after stage of His civil trial, until at last they secured His condemnation at the tribunal of Pilate. When at last He was handed over to the executioners, it might have been expected that they would have been tired of the lengthy proceedings and glad to escape from the scene. But their passions had been thoroughly aroused, and their thirst for revenge was so deep that they could not allow the soldiers to do their own work, but, forgetful of dignity, accompanied the crowd to the place of execution and stayed to glut their eyes with the spectacle of their Victim's sufferings. Even after He was lifted up on the tree, they could not keep their tongues off Him or give Him the dying man's privilege of peace; but, losing all sense of propriety, they made insulting gestures and poured on Him insulting cries. Naturally the crowd followed their example, till not only the soldiers took it up, but even the thieves who were crucified with Him joined in. So that the crowd under His eyes became a sea of scorn, whose angry waves dashed up about His cross. The line taken was to recall all the great names which He had claimed, or which had been applied to Him, and to contrast them with the position in which He now was. "The Son of God," "The Chosen of God," "The King of Israel," "The Christ," "The King of the Jews," "Thou that destroyest the temple and buildest it in three days"--with these epithets they pelted Him in every tone of mockery. They challenged Him to come down from the cross and they would believe Him. This was their most persistent cry--He had saved others, but Himself He could not save. They had always maintained that it was by the power of devils He wrought His miracles; but these evil powers are dangerous to palter with; they may lend their virtue for a time, but at last they appear to demand their price; at the most critical moment they leave him who has trusted them in the lurch. This was what had happened to Jesus; now at last the wizard's wand was broken and He could charm no more. As they thus poured out the gall which had long been accumulating in their hearts, they did not notice that, in the multitude of their words, they were using the very terms attributed in the twenty-second Psalm to the enemies of the holy Sufferer: "He trusted in God; let Him deliver Him now, if He will have Him; for He said, I am the Son of God." Cold-blooded historians have doubted whether they could have made such a slip without noticing it; but, strange to say, there is an exact modern parallel. When one of the Swiss reformers was pleading before the papal court, the president interrupted him with the very words of Caiaphas to the Sanhedrim: "He hath spoken blasphemy: what further need have we of witnesses? What think ye?" and they all answered, "He is worthy of death"; without noticing, till he reminded them, that they were quoting Scripture.[3] Jesus might have answered the cries of His enemies; because to one hanging on the cross it was possible not only to hear and see, but also to speak. However, He answered never a word--"when He was reviled, He reviled not again," "as a sheep before her shearers is dumb, so He opened not His mouth." This was not, however, because He did not feel. More painful than the nails which pierced His body were these missiles of malice shot at His mind. The human heart laid bare its basest and blackest depths under His very eyes; and all its foul scum was poured over Him. Was it a temptation to Him, one wonders, when so often from every side the invitation was given Him to come down from the cross? This was substantially the same temptation as was addressed to Him at the opening of His career, when Satan urged Him to cast Himself from the pinnacle of the temple. It had haunted Him in various forms all His life through. And now it assails Him once more at the crisis of His fate. They thought His patience was impotence and His silence a confession of defeat. Why should He not let His glory blaze forth and confound them? How easily He could have done it! Yet no; He could not. They were quite right when they said, "He saved others, Himself He cannot save." Had He saved Himself, He would not have been the Saviour. Yet the power that kept Him on the cross was a far mightier one than would have been necessary to leave it. It was not by the nails through His hands and feet that He was held, nor by the ropes with which His arms were bound, nor by the soldiers watching Him; no, but by invisible bands--by the cords of redeeming love and by the constraint of a Divine design. Of this, however, His enemies had no inkling. They were judging Him by the most heathenish standard. They had no idea of power but a material one, or of glory but a selfish one. The Saviour of their fancy was a political deliverer, not One who could save from sin. And to this day Christ hears the cry from more sides than one, "Come down from the cross, and we will believe Thee." It comes from the spiritually shallow, who have no sense of their own unworthiness or of the majesty and the rights of a holy God. They do not understand a theology of sin and punishment, of atonement and redemption; and all the deep significance of His death has to be taken out of Christianity before they will believe it. It comes, too, from the morally cowardly and the worldly-minded, who desire a religion without the cross. If Christianity were only a creed to believe, or a worship in whose celebration the aesthetic faculty might take delight, or a private path by which a man might pilgrim to heaven unnoticed, they would be delighted to believe it; but, because it means confessing Christ and bearing His reproach, mingling with His despised people and supporting His cause, they will have none of it. None can honour the cross of Christ who have not felt the humiliation of guilt and entered into the secret of humility. III. Let our attention now be directed to a third group. And again it is a comparatively small one. As the eyes of Jesus wandered to and fro over the sea of faces upturned to His own--faces charged with every form and degree of hatred and contempt--was there no point on which they could linger with satisfaction? Yes, among the thorns there was one lily. On the outskirts of the crowd there stood a group of His acquaintances and of the women who followed Him from Galilee and ministered unto Him. Let us enumerate their honoured names, as far as they have been preserved--"Mary Magdalene, and Mary the mother of James and Joses [Transcriber's note: Joseph?], and the mother of Zebedee's children." Their position, "afar off," probably indicates that they were in a state of fear. It was not safe to be too closely identified with One against whom the authorities cherished such implacable feelings; and they may have been quite right not to make themselves too conspicuous. Apart from the danger to which they might be exposed, they had a whole tempest of trouble in their hearts. As yet they knew not the Scriptures that He must rise again from the dead; and this collapse of the cause in which they had embarked their all for time and for eternity was a bewildering calamity. They had trusted that it had been He who should have redeemed Israel, and that He would live and reign over the redeemed race forever. And there He was, perishing before their eyes in defeat and shame. Their faith was at the very last ebb. Or say, rather, it survived only in the form of love. Bewildered as were their ideas, He had as firm a hold as ever on their hearts. They loved Him; they suffered with Him; they could have died for Him. May we not believe that the eyes of Jesus, as long as they were able to see, turned often away from the brutal soldiers beneath His feet, and from the sea of distorted faces, to this distant group? In some respects, indeed, their aspect might be more trying to Him than even the hateful faces of His enemies; for sympathy will sometimes break down a strong heart that is proof against opposition. Yet this neighbourly sympathy and womanly love must, on the whole, have been a profound comfort and support. He was sustained all through His sufferings by the thought of the multitudes without number who would benefit from what He was enduring; but here before His eyes was an earnest of His reward; and in them He saw of the travail of His soul and was satisfied. In these three groups, then, we see three predominant states of mind--in the soldiers apathy, in the Sanhedrim antipathy, in the Galileans sympathy. Has it ever occurred to you to ask in which group you would have been had you been there? This is a searching question. Of course it is easy now to say which were right and which were wrong. It is always easy to admire the heroes and the causes of bygone days; but it is possible to do so and yet be apathetic or antipathetic to those of our own. Even the Roman soldiers at the foot of the cross admired Romulus and Cincinnatus and Brutus, though they had no feeling for One at their side greater than these. The Jews who were mocking Christ admired Moses and Samuel and Isaiah. Christ is still bearing His cross through the streets of the world, and is hanging exposed to contempt and ill-treatment; and it is possible to admire the Christ of the Bible and yet be persecuting and opposing the Christ of our own century. The Christ of to-day signifies the truth, the cause, the principles of Christ, and the men and women in whom these are embodied. We are either helping or hindering those movements on which Christ has set His heart; often, without being aware of it, men choose their sides and plan and speak and act either for or against Christ. This is the Passion of our own day, the Golgotha of our own city. But it comes nearer than this. The living Christ Himself is still in the world: He comes to every door; His Spirit strives with every soul. And He still meets with these three kinds of treatment--apathy, antipathy, sympathy. As a magnet, passing over a heap of objects, causes those to move and spring out of the heap which are akin to itself, so redeeming love, as revealed in Christ, passing over the surface of mankind century after century, has the power so to move human hearts to the very depths that, kindling with admiration and desire, they spring up and attach themselves to Him. This response may be called faith, or love, or spirituality, or what you please; but it is the very test and touchstone of eternity, for it is separating men and women from the mass and making them one for ever with the life and the love of God. [1] Keim strangely surmises that there was no great crowd; but this is impossible. [2] As, however, the Jews would have objected to this, Edersheim argues--but not convincingly--that there must have been at least a slight covering. [3] Süskind, _Passionsschule_, _in loc_. CHAPTER XIV. THE FIRST WORD FROM THE CROSS[1] In the last chapter we saw the impressions made by the crucifixion on the different groups round the cross. On the soldiers, who did the deed, it made no impression at all; they were absolutely blind to the wonder and glory of the scene in which they were taking part. On the members of the Sanhedrim, and the others who thought with them, it had an extraordinary effect: the perfect revelation of goodness and spiritual beauty threw them into convulsions of angry opposition. Even the group of the friends of Jesus, standing afar off, saw only a very little way into the meaning of what was taking place before their eyes: the victory of their Master over sin, death and the world appeared to them a tragic defeat. So true is it, as I said, that, when something grand is to be seen, there is required not only the object but the seeing eye. The image in a mirror depends not only on the object reflected but on the quality and the configuration of the glass. We wish, however, to see the scene enacted on Calvary in its true shape; and where shall we look? There was one mind there in which it was mirrored with perfect fidelity. If we could see the image of the crucifixion in the mind of Jesus Himself, this would reveal its true meaning. But in what way can we ascertain how it appeared to Him, as from His painful station He looked forth upon the scene? The answer is to be found in the sentences which he uttered, as He hung, before His senses were stifled by the mists of death. These are like windows through which we can see what was passing in His mind. They are mere fragments, of course; yet they are charged with eternal significance. Words are always photographs, more or less true, of the mind which utters them; these were the truest words ever uttered, and He who uttered them stamped on them the image of Himself. They are seven in number, and it will be to our advantage to linger on them; they are too precious to be taken summarily. The sayings of the dying are always impressive. We never forget the deathbed utterances of a parent or a bosom friend; the last words of famous men are treasured for ever. In Scripture Jacob, Joseph, Moses, and other patriarchal men are represented as having risen on their deathbeds far above themselves and spoken in the tones of a higher world; and in all nations a prophetic importance has been attached to the words of the dying. Now, these are the dying words of Christ; and, as all His words are like gold to silver in comparison with those of other men, so these, in comparison with the rest of His words, are as diamonds to gold. In the First Word three things are noticeable--the Invocation, the Petition, and the Argument. I. It was not unusual for crucified persons to speak on the cross; but their words usually consisted of wild expressions of pain or bootless entreaties for release, curses against God or imprecations on those who had inflicted their sufferings. When Jesus had recovered from the swooning shock occasioned by the driving of the nails into His hands and feet, His first utterance was a prayer, and His first word "Father." Was it not an unintentional condemnation of those who had affixed Him there? It was in the name of religion they had acted and in the name of God; but which of them was thus impregnated through and through with religion? which of them could pretend to a communion with God so close and habitual? Evidently it was because prayer was the natural language of Jesus that at this moment it leapt to His lips. It is a suspicious case when in any trial, especially an ecclesiastical one, the condemned is obviously a better man than the judges. The word "Father," further, proved that the faith of Jesus was unshaken by all through which He had passed and by that which He was now enduring. When righteousness is trampled underfoot and wrong is triumphant, faith is tempted to ask if there is really a God, loving and wise, seated on the throne of the universe, or whether, on the contrary, all is the play of chance. When prosperity is turned suddenly into adversity and the structure of the plans and hopes of a life is tumbled in confusion to the ground, even the child of God is apt to kick against the Divine will. Great saints have been driven, by the pressure of pain and disappointment, to challenge God's righteousness in words which it is not lawful for a man to utter. But, when the fortunes of Jesus were at the blackest, when He was baited by a raging pack of wolf-like enemies, and when He was sinking into unplumbed abysses of pain and desertion, He still said "Father." It was the apotheosis of faith, and to all time it will serve as an example; because it was gloriously vindicated. If ever the hand of the Creator seemed to be withdrawn from the rudder of the universe, and the course of human affairs to be driving down headlong into the gulf of confusion, it was when He who was the embodiment of moral beauty and worth had to die a shameful death as a malefactor. Could good by any possibility rise out of such an abyss of wrong? The salvation of the world came out of it; all that is noblest in history came out of it. This is the supreme lesson to God's children never to despair. All may be dark; everything may seem going to rack and ruin; evil may seem to be enthroned on the seat of God; yet God liveth; He sits above the tumult of the present; and He will bring forth the dawn from the womb of the darkness. II. The prayer which followed this invocation was still more remarkable: it was a prayer for the pardon of His enemies. In the foregoing pages we have seen to what kind of treatment He was subjected from the arrest onwards--how the minions of authority struck and insulted Him, how the high priests twisted the forms of law to ensnare Him, how Herod disdained Him, how Pilate played fast and loose with His interests, how the mob howled at Him. Our hearts have burned with indignation as one depth of baseness has opened beneath another; and we have been unable to refrain from using hard language. The comment of Jesus on it all was, "Father, forgive them." Long ago, indeed, He had taught men, "Love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you, and pray for them which despitefully use you and persecute you." But this morality of the Sermon on the Mount had been considered, as the world still inclines to consider it, a beautiful dream. There have been many teachers who have said such beautiful things; but what a difference there is between preaching and practice! When you have been delighted with the sentiments of an author, it is frequently well that you know no more about him; because, if you chance to become acquainted with the facts of his own life, you experience a painful disillusionment. Have not students even of our own English literature in very recent times learned to be afraid to read the biographies of literary men, lest the beautiful structure of sentiments which they have gathered from their writings should be shattered by the truth about themselves? But Jesus practised what He taught. He is the one teacher of mankind in whom the sentiment and the act completely coincide. His doctrine was the very highest: too high it often seems for this world. But how much more practical it appears when we see it in action. He proved that it can be realised on earth when on the cross He prayed, "Father, forgive them." Few of us, perhaps, know what it is to forgive. We have never been deeply wronged; very likely many of us have not a single enemy in the world. But those who have are aware how difficult it is; perhaps nothing else is more difficult. Revenge is one of the sweetest satisfactions to the natural heart. The law of the ancient world was, at least in practice, "Thou shalt love thy neighbour and hate thine enemy." Even saints, in the Old Testament, curse those who have persecuted and wronged them in terms of uncompromising severity. Had Jesus followed these and, as soon as He was able to speak, uttered to His Father a complaint in which the conduct of His enemies was branded in the terms it deserved, who would have ventured to find fault with Him? Even in that there might have been a revelation of God; because in the Divine nature there is a fire of wrath against sin. But how poor would such a revelation have been in comparison with the one which He now made. All His life He was revealing God; but now His time was short; and it was the very highest in God He had to make known. In this word Christ revealed Himself; but at the same time He revealed the Father. All His life long the Father was in Him, but on the cross the divine life and character flamed in His human nature like the fire in the burning bush. It uttered itself in the word; "Father, forgive them"; and what did it tell? It told that God is love. III. The expiring Saviour backed up His prayer for the forgiveness of His enemies with the argument--"For they know not what they do." This allows us to see further still into the divine depths of His love. The injured are generally alive only to their own side of the case; and they see only those circumstances which tend to place the conduct of the opposite party in the worst light. But at the moment when the pain inflicted by His enemies was at the worst Jesus was seeking excuses for their conduct. The question has been raised how far the excuse which He made on their behalf applied. Could it be said of them all that they knew not what they were doing? Did not Judas know? did not the high priests know? did not Herod know? Apparently it was primarily to the soldiers who did the actual work of crucifixion that Jesus referred; because it was in the very midst of their work that the words were uttered, as may be seen in the narrative of St. Luke. The soldiers, the rude uninstructed instruments of the government, were the least guilty among the assailants of Jesus. Next to them, perhaps, came Pilate; and there were different stages and degrees down, through Herod and the Sanhedrim, to the unspeakable baseness of Judas. But St. Peter, in the beginning of Acts, expressly extends the plea of ignorance so far as to cover even the Sanhedrists--"And now, brethren, I wot that through ignorance ye did it, as did also your rulers"--and who will believe that the heart of the Saviour was less comprehensive than that of the disciple? Let us not be putting limits to the divine mercy. It is true of every sinner, in some measure, that he knows not what he does. And to a true penitent, as he approaches the throne of mercy, it is a great consolation to be assured that this plea will be allowed. Penitent St. Paul was comforted with it: "God had mercy on me, because I did it ignorantly in unbelief." God knows all our weakness and blindness; men will not make allowance for it or even understand it; but He will understand it all, if we come to hide our guilty head in His bosom. Of course this blessed truth may be perverted by an impenitent heart to its own undoing. There is no falser notion than that expressed in the French proverb, _Tout comprendre est tout pardonner_ (To understand everything is to pardon everything), for it means that man is the mere creature of circumstances and has no real responsibility for his actions. How far our Lord was from this way of thinking is shown by the fact that He said, "Forgive them." He knew that they needed forgiveness; which implies that they were guilty. Indeed, it was His vivid apprehension of the danger to which their guilt exposed them that made Him forget His own sufferings and fling Himself between them and their fate. It has been asked, Was this prayer answered? were the crucifiers of Jesus forgiven? To this it may be replied that a prayer for forgiveness cannot be answered without the co-operation of those prayed for. Unless they repent and seek pardon for themselves, how can God forgive them? The prayer of Jesus, therefore, meant that time should be granted them for repentance, and that they should be plied with providences and with preaching, to awaken their consciences. To punish so appalling a crime as the crucifixion of His Son, God might have caused the earth to open on the spot and swallow the sinners up. But no judgment of the kind took place. As Jesus had predicted, Jerusalem perished in indescribable throes of agony; but not till forty years after His death; and in this interval the pouring out of the Spirit at Pentecost took place, and the apostles began their preaching of the kingdom at Jerusalem, urgently calling the nation to repentance. Nor was their work in vain; for thousands believed. Even before the scene of the crucifixion terminated, one of the two thieves crucified along with Jesus, who had taken part in reviling Him, was converted; and the centurion who superintended the execution confessed Him as the Son of God. After all was over, multitudes who had beheld the sight went away smiting their breasts.[2] We have no reason to doubt, therefore, that even in this direct sense the prayer received an abundant answer. But this was a prayer of a kind which may also be answered indirectly. Besides the effect which prayer has in procuring specific petitions, it acts reflexly on the spirit of the person who offers it, calming, sweetening, invigorating. Although some erroneously regard this as the only real answer that prayer can receive, denying that God can be moved by our petitions, yet we, who believe that more things are wrought by prayer, ought not to overlook this. By praying that His enemies might be forgiven, Jesus was enabled to drive back the spirits of anger and revenge which tried to force their way into His bosom, and preserved undisturbed the serenity of His soul. To ask God to forgive them was the triumphant ending of His own effort to forgive; and it is impossible to forgive without a delicious sense of deliverance and peace being shed abroad in the forgiving heart. May we not add that part of the answer to this prayer has been its repetition age after age by the persecuted and wronged? St. Stephen led the way, in the article of death praying meekly after the fashion of his Master, "Lord, lay not this sin to their charge." Hundreds have followed. And day by day this prayer is diminishing the sum of bitterness and increasing the amount of love in the world. [1] "Father, forgive them; for they know not what they do." [2] Luke xxiii. 48. CHAPTER XV. THE SECOND WORD FROM THE CROSS[1] I. It is not said by whose arrangement it was that Jesus was hung between the two thieves. It may have been done by order of Pilate, who wished in this way to add point to the witticism which he had put into the inscription above the cross; or the arrangement may have been due to the Jewish officials, who followed their Victim to Golgotha and may have persuaded the soldiers to give Him this place, as an additional insult; or the soldiers may have done it of their own accord, simply because He was obviously the most notable of their prisoners. The likelihood is that there was malice in it. Yet there was a divine purpose behind the wrath of man. Again and again one has to remark how, in these last scenes, every shred of action and every random word aimed at Jesus for the purpose of injuring and dishonouring Him so turned, instead, to honour, that in our eyes, now looking back, it shines on Him like a star. As a fire catches the lump of dirty coal or clot of filth that is flung into it, and converts it into a mass of light, so at this time there was that about Christ which transmuted the very insults hurled at Him into honours and charged even the incidents of His crucifixion which were most trivial in themselves with unspeakable meaning. The crown of thorns, the purple robe, Pilate's Ecce Homo, the inscription on the cross, the savage cries of the passers-by and other similar incidents, full at the time of malice, are now memories treasured by all who love the Saviour. So His position between the thieves was ordained by God as well as by men. It was His right position. They had called Him long before "a friend of publicans and sinners;" and now, by crucifying Him between the thieves, they put the same idea into action. As, however, that nickname has become a title of everlasting honour, so has this insulting deed. Jesus came to the world to identify Himself with sinners; their cause was His, and He wrapped up His fate with theirs; He had lived among them, and it was meet that He should die among them. To this day He is in the midst of them; and the strange behaviour of the two between whom He hung that day was a prefigurement of what has been happening every day since: some sinners have believed on Him and been saved, while others have believed not: to the one His gospel is a savour of life unto life, to the other it is a savour of death unto death. So it is to be till the end; and on the great day when the whole history of this world shall be wound up He will still be in the midst; and the penitent will be on the one hand and the impenitent on the other. But it was not in one way only that the divine wisdom overruled for high ends of its own the humiliating circumstance that Jesus was thus reckoned with the transgressors. It gave Him an opportunity of illustrating, at the very last moment, both the magnanimity of His own character and the nature of His mission; and at the moment when He needed it most it supplied Him with a cup of what had always been to Him the supreme joy of living--the bliss of doing good. As the parable of the Prodigal Son is an epitome of the whole teaching of Christ, so is the salvation of the thief on the cross the life of Christ in miniature. II. Both thieves appear to have joined in taunting Jesus, in imitation of the Sanhedrists. This has, indeed, been doubted or denied by those, of whom there have been many, who have experienced difficulty in understanding how so complete a revolution as the conversion of the penitent thief could take place in so short a time. Two of the Evangelists say that those crucified with Him reviled Him; but it is just possible grammatically to explain this as referring only to one of them; because sometimes an action is attributed to a class, though only one person of the class has done it.[2] The natural interpretation, however, is that both did it. It is likely enough, indeed, that the one who did not repent began it, and that the other joined in, less of his own accord than in imitation of his reckless associate. Very probably this was not the first time that he had been dragged into sin by the same attraction. His companion may have been his evil genius, who had ruined his life and brought him at last to this shameful end. It was an awful extreme of wickedness to be engaged, so near their own end, in hurling opprobrious words at a fellow-sufferer. Of course, the very excess of pain made crucified persons reckless; and to be engaged doing anything, especially anything violent, helped to make them forget their agony. It mattered not who or what was the object of attack; they were reduced to the condition of tortured animals; and the trapped brute bites at anything which approaches it. This was the state of the impenitent thief. But the other drew back from his companion with horror. The very excess of sin overleaped itself; and for the first time he saw how vile a wretch he was. This was brought home to him by the contrast of the patience and peace of Jesus. His brutal companion had hitherto been his ideal; but now he perceives how base is his ferocious courage in comparison with the strength of Christ's serene endurance. The desire to explain away the suddenness of the conversion has led to all sorts of conjectures as to the possibility of previous meetings between the thief and Christ. It is quite legitimate to dwell on what he had seen of the behaviour of Jesus from the moment when they were brought into contact in the crucifixion. He had heard Him pray for the forgiveness of His enemies; he had witnessed His demeanour on the way to Calvary and heard His words to the daughters of Jerusalem; the very cries of His enemies round the cross, when they cast in His teeth the titles which He had claimed or which had been attributed to Him, informed him what were the pretensions of Jesus; perhaps he may have witnessed and heard the trial before Pilate. But, when we attempt to go further back, we have nothing solid to found upon. Had he ever heard Jesus preach? Had he witnessed any of His miracles? How much did he know of the nature of His Kingdom, of which he spoke? Guesses may be made in answer to such questions, but they cannot be authenticated. I should be inclined with more confidence to look further back still. He may have come out of a pious home; he may have been a prodigal led astray by companions, and especially by the strong companion with whom he was now associated. As there was a weeping mother at the foot of the cross of Jesus, there may have been a heart-broken parent at the foot of that other cross also, whose prayers were yet going to be answered in a way surpassing her wildest hopes. The question of the possibility of sudden conversion is generally argued with too much excitement on both sides to allow the facts to be recognised. Among us there may, in one sense, be said to be no such thing. Suppose anyone reading this page, who may know that he has not yet with his whole heart and soul turned to God, were to do so before turning the next leaf, would this be a sudden conversion? Why, the preparation for it has been going on for years. What has been the intention of all the religious instruction which you have received from your childhood, of the prayers offered on your behalf of the appeals which have moved you, of the strivings of God's Spirit, but to lead up to this result? Though your conversion were to take place this very hour, it would only be the last moment of a process which has gone on for years. Yet in a sense it would be sudden. And why should it not? What reason is there why your return to God should be further postponed? There are two experiences in religion which require to be carefully distinguished: there is the making of religious impressions on us by others from the outside--through instruction, example, appeal and the like; and there is the rise of religion within ourselves, when we turn round upon our impressions and make them our own. The former experience is long and slow, but the latter may be very sudden; and a very little thing may bring it about. Another way in which it is possible to minimise the greatness of this conversion is by questioning the guilt of the man.[3] When he is called a thief, the name suggests a very common and degraded sinner; but it is pointed out that "robber" would be the correct name, and that probably he and his companion may have been revolutionaries, whose opposition to the Roman rule had driven them outside the pale of society, where, to win a subsistence, they had to resort to the trade of highwaymen; but in that country, tyrannised over by a despotic foreign power, those who attempted to raise the standard of revolt were sometimes far from ignoble characters, though the necessities of their position betrayed them into acts of violence. There is truth in this; and the penitent thief may not have been a sinner above all men. But his own words to his companion, "We receive the due reward of our deeds," point the other way. His memory was stained with acts for which he acknowledged that death was the lawful penalty. In short, there is no reason to doubt either that he was a great sinner or that he was suddenly changed. And therefore his example will always be an encouragement to the worst of sinners when they repent. It is common for penitents to be afraid to come to God, because their sins have been too great to be forgiven; but those who are encouraging them can point to cases like Manasseh, and Mary Magdalene, and the thief on the cross, and assure them that the mercy which sufficed for these is sufficient for all: "The blood of Jesus Christ, God's Son, cleanseth us from all sin." The fear of those who endeavour to minimise the wonderfulness of this conversion is lest, if it be allowed that a man of the worst character could undergo so complete a change in so short a time on the very verge of the other world, men may be induced to put off their own salvation in the hope of availing themselves of a death-bed repentance. This is a just fear; and the grace of God has undoubtedly been sometimes thus abused. But it is an utter abuse. Those who allow themselves to be deceived with this reasoning believe that they can at any moment command penitence and faith, and that all the other feelings of religion will come to them whenever they choose to summon them. But does experience lead us to believe this? Are not the occasions, on the contrary, very rare when religion really moves irreligious men "We cannot kindle when we will The fire that in the soul resides: The spirit breatheth and is still-- In mystery the soul abides." Nor is it by any means a uniform experience that the approach of death awakens religious anxiety. The other thief is a solemn warning. Though face to face with death and in such close proximity to Jesus, he was only hardened and rendered more reckless than ever. And this is far more likely to be the fate of anyone who deliberately quenches the Spirit because he is trusting to a death-bed repentance. Yet we will not allow the possible abuse of the truth to rob us of the glorious testimony contained in this incident to the grace of God. We set no limits to the invitation of the Saviour, "Him that cometh unto Me I will in no wise cast out." However late a sinner may be in coming, and however little time he may have in which to come, let him only come and he will not be cast out. There is no more critical test of theologies and theologians than the question what message they have to a dying person whose sins are unforgiven. If the salvation which a preacher has to offer is only a course of moral improvement, what can he have to say in such a place? We may be sure that our gospel is not the gospel of Him who comforted the penitent thief, unless we are able to offer even to a dying sinner a salvation immediate, joyful and complete. How complete the revolution was in the penitent thief is shown by his own words. St. Paul in one place sums up Christianity in two things--repentance towards God and faith in the Lord Jesus Christ. And both of these we see in this penitent's words. His repentance towards God is brought out by what he said to his companion. "Dost thou not fear God?" he asked. He had himself forgotten God, no doubt, and put Him far away in the sinful past. But now God was near, and in the light of God he saw his own sinfulness. He confessed it, doing so not only in his secret mind but audibly. Thus he separated himself from it, as he did also from the companion who had led him astray, when he would not come with him on the path of penitence. Not less distinctly do His words to the Saviour manifest his faith in the Lord Jesus Christ. They are simple and humble: all he dared to expect was that, when Christ came into His kingdom, He would remember him. But they recognised the glory of Christ and expressed trust in Him. At the moment when the religious teachers of the nations thought that they had for ever destroyed Christ's claims, and even His own disciples had forsaken Him, this poor dying sinner believed in Him. "How clear," exclaims Calvin, "was the vision of the eyes which could thus see in death life, in ruin majesty, in shame glory, in defeat victory, in slavery royalty. I question if ever since the world began there has been so bright an example of faith." Luther is no less laudatory. "This," says he, "was for Christ a comfort like that supplied to Him by the angel in the garden. God could not allow His Son to be destitute of subjects, and now His Church survived in this one man. Where the faith of St. Peter broke off, the faith of the penitent thief commenced." And another[4] asks, "Did ever the new birth take place in so strange a cradle?" III. It is worth noting that it was not by words that Jesus converted this man. He did not address the penitent thief at all till the thief spoke to Him. The work of conviction was done before He uttered a word. Yet it was His work; and how did He do it? As St. Peter exhorted godly wives to convert their heathen husbands, when he wrote to them, "Likewise, ye wives, be in subjection to your own husbands, that, if any obey not the Word, they also may, without the Word, be won by the conversation (_i.e._, behaviour) of the wives, while they behold your chaste conversation coupled with fear." It was by the impression of His patience, His innocence, His peace, and His magnanimity, that Jesus converted the man; and herein He has left us an example that we should follow in His steps. But His words, when He did speak, added immensely to the impression. They were few, but every one of them expressed the Saviour. The robber was thinking of some date far off when Christ might intervene in his behalf, but Christ says, "To-day." This was a prophecy that he would die that day, and not be allowed to linger for days, as crucified persons often were; and this was fulfilled. But it was, besides, a promise that as soon as death launched him out of time into eternity, Christ would be waiting there to receive him. "To-day thou shalt be with Me." All heaven is in these two last words. What do we really know of heaven, what do we wish to know, except that it is to be "with Christ"? Yet a little more was added--"in Paradise." Some have thought that in this phrase Christ was stooping to the conceptions of the penitent thief by using a popular expression for some happy place in the other world.[5] At least the word, which means a garden or park and was applied to the abode of our first parents in Eden, could not but call up in the consciousness of the dying man a scene of beauty, innocence and peace, where, washed clean from the defilement of his past errors, he would begin to exist again as a new creature. Even Christians have believed that the utmost that can be expected in the next world by a soul with a history like the robber's is, at least to begin with, to be consigned to the fires of purgatory. But far different is the grace of Christ: great and perfect is His work, and therefore ours is a full salvation. This second word from the cross affords a rare glimpse into the divine glory of the Saviour; and it is all the more impressive that it is indirect. The thief, in the most solemn circumstances, spoke to Him as to a King and prayed to Him as to a God.[6] And how did He respond? Did He say, "Pray not to Me; I am a man like yourself, and I know as little of the unknown country into which we are both about to enter as you do"? This is what He ought to have answered, if He was no more than some make Him out to be. But He accepted the homage of His petitioner; He spoke of the world unseen as of a place native and familiar. He gave him to understand that He possessed as much influence there as he attributed to Him. This great sinner laid on Christ the weight of his soul, the weight of his sins, the weight of his eternity; and Christ accepted the burden. [1] "To-day shalt thou be with Me in Paradise." [2] So Augustin and many. [3] Schleiermacher makes much of this; and, indeed, does everything in his power to minimise the moral miracle. The whole sermon is a specimen of his worst manner, when he rides away on some side issue and fails to expound the great central lessons of a subject. [4] Tholuck. [5] "In Biblical Hebrew the word is used for a choice garden but in the LXX. and the Apocalypse it is already used in our sense of Paradise."--EDERSHEIM. [6] The word "Lord" in the robber's speech is, however, unauthentic. CHAPTER XVI. THE THIRD WORD FROM THE CROSS[1] In the life of our Lord from first to last there is a strange blending of the majestic and the lowly. When a beam of His divine dignity is allowed to shine out and dazzle us, it is never long before there ensues some incident which reminds us that He is bone of our bone and flesh of our flesh; and, contrariwise, when He does anything which impressively brings home to us His humanity, there always follows something to remind us that He was greater than the sons of men. Thus at His birth He was laid in a manger; yet out on the pastures of Bethlehem angels sang His praise. Long afterwards He was asleep in the end of the boat, and so overcome with fatigue that He needed to be awakened to realise His danger; but immediately He rebuked the winds and the waves, and there was a great calm. When He saw the grief of Martha and Mary, "Jesus wept"; but only a few minutes afterwards He cried, "Lazarus, come forth," and He was obeyed. So it was to the very last. In studying the Second Word from the cross we saw Him opening the gates of Paradise to the penitent thief; to-day the Third Word will show Him to us as the Son of a woman, concerned in His dying hour for her bodily sustenance. I. The eye of Jesus, roving over the multitude whose component parts have been already described, lighted on His mother standing at the foot of the cross. In the words of the great mediaeval hymn, which is known to all by its opening words, _Stabat mater_, and from the fact that it has been set to music by such masters as Palestrina, Haydn and Rossini, "Beside the cross in tears The woeful mother stood, Bent 'neath the weight of years, And viewed His flowing blood; Her mind with grief was torn, Her strength was ebbing fast, And through her heart forlorn The sword of anguish passed." When she carried her Infant into the temple in the pride of young motherhood, the venerable Simeon foretold that a sword would pierce through her own soul also. Often perhaps had she wondered, in happy days, what this mysterious prediction might mean. But now she knew, for the sword was smiting her, stab after stab. It is always hard for a mother to see her son die. She naturally expects him to lay her head in the grave. Especially is this the case with the first-born, the son of her strength. Jesus was only thirty-three, and Mary must have reached the age when a mother most of all leans for support on a strong and loving son. Far worse, however, was the death He was dying--the death of a criminal. Many mothers have had to suffer from the kind of death their children have died, when it has been in great agony or in otherwise distressing circumstances. But what mother's sufferings were ever equal to Mary's? There He hung before her eyes; but she was helpless. His wounds bled, but she dared not stanch them; His mouth was parched, but she could not moisten it. These outstretched arms used to clasp her neck; she used to fondle these pierced hands and feet. Ah! the nails pierced her as well as Him; the thorns round His brow were a circle of flame about her heart; the taunts flung at Him wounded her likewise. But there was worse still--the sword cut deeper. Had not the angel told her before His birth, "He shall be great, and shall be called the Son of the Highest, and the Lord God shall give unto Him the throne of His father David; and He shall reign over the house of Jacob for ever; and of His kingdom there shall be no end"? This greatness, this throne, this crown, this kingdom--where were they? Once she had believed that she really was what the angel had called her--the most blessed of women--when she saw Him lying in her lap in His beautiful infancy, when the Shepherds and the Magi came to adore Him, and when Simeon and Anna recognised Him as the Messiah. After that ensued the long period of His obscurity in Nazareth. He was only the village carpenter; but she did not weary, for He was with her in their home; and she was confident that the greatness, the throne, the crown, the kingdom would all come in good time. At last His hour struck; and, casting down His tools and bidding her farewell, He went forth out of the little valley into the great world. It is all coming now, she said. Soon the news arrived of the words of grace and power He was speaking, of the multitudes following Him, of the nation being roused, and of the blind, the lame, the diseased, the bereaved who blessed Him for giving joy back to their lives, and blessed her who had borne Him. It is all coming to pass, she said. But then followed other news--of reaction, of opposition, of persecution. Her heart sank within her. She could not stay where she was. She left Nazareth and went away trembling to see what had happened. And now she stands at the foot of His cross. He is dying; and the greatness, the glory, and the kingdom have never come. What could it mean? Had the angel been a deceiver, and God's word a lie, and all the wonders of His childhood a dream? We know the explanation now: Jesus was about to climb a far loftier throne than Mary had ever imagined, and the cross was the only road to it. Before many weeks were over Mary was to understand this too; but meantime it must have been dark as Egypt to her, and her heart must have been sorrowful even unto death. The sword had pierced very deep. II. There were other women with Mary beneath the cross--two of them Marys, like herself.[2] As an ancient father[3] has said, the weaker sex on this occasion proved itself the stronger. When the apostles had forsaken their Master and fled, these women were true to the last. Perhaps, indeed, their sex protected them. Women can venture into some places where men dare not go; and this is a talent which many women have used for rendering services to the Saviour which men could not have performed. But there was one there who had not this protection, and who in venturing so near must have taken his life in his hand. St. John, I suppose, is included with the rest of the apostles in the sad statement that they all forsook their Master and fled. But, if so, his panic can only have lasted a moment. He was present at the very commencement of the trial; and here he still is with his Master at the last--the only one of all the Twelve. Perhaps, indeed, the acquaintance with the high-priest, which availed him to get into the palace where the trial took place, may still have operated in his favour. But it was most of all his greater devotion that brought him to his Master's side. He who had leaned on His breast could not stay away, whatever might be the danger. And he had his reward; for he was permitted to render a last service to Jesus amidst His agony, and he received from Him a token of confidence which by a heart like his must have been felt to be an unspeakable privilege and honour. III. It is most of all, however, with the impression made by the situation on Jesus Himself that we wish to acquaint ourselves. He looked on His mother; and it was with an unpreoccupied eye, that was able to disengage its attention from every other object by which it was solicited. He was suffering at the time an extremity of pain which might have made Him insensible to everything beyond Himself. Or, if He had composure enough to think, a dying man has many things to reflect upon within his own mind. Christ, we know, had a whole world of interests to attend to; for now He was engaged in a final wrestle with the problem to which His whole life had been devoted. The prayer on behalf of His enemies does not surprise us so much, for it may be said to have been part of His office to intercede for sinners; nor His address to the penitent thief, for this also was quite in harmony with His work as the Saviour. But we do wonder that in such an hour He had leisure to attend to a domestic detail of ordinary life. Men who have been engaged in philanthropic and reformatory schemes have not infrequently been unmindful of the claims of their own families; and they have excused themselves, or excuse has been made for them, on the ground that the public interest predominated over the rights of their relatives. Now and then Jesus Himself spoke as if He took this view: He would not allow His plans to be interfered with even by His mother. But now He showed that, though He could not but refuse her unjust interference, He had never for a moment forgotten her just claims or her true interests. In spite of His greatness and in spite of His work, He still remained Mary's Son and bore to her an undying affection. The words He spoke were, indeed, few; but they completely covered the case. Every word He uttered in that position was with great pain; therefore He could not say much. Besides, their very fewness imparted to them a kind of judicial dignity; as has been said, this was Christ's last will and testament. To His mother He said, "Woman, behold thy son," [4] indicating St. John with His eyes; and to the disciple He merely said, "Behold thy mother." It was simple, yet comprehensive; a plain, almost legal direction, and yet overflowing with love to both Mary and John. It is supposed that Joseph, the husband of the Virgin, had died before our Lord's public career began, and that in Nazareth the weight of the household had fallen on the shoulders of Jesus. No doubt, during His years of preaching, He would tenderly care for His mother. But now He too was leaving her, and the widow would be without support. It was for this He had to provide. He had no money to leave her; His earthly all, when He was crucified, consisted of the clothes He wore; and these fell to the soldiers. But it is one of the privileges of those who, though they may be poor themselves, make many rich with the gifts of truth, that they thereby win friends who are proud and eager to serve them or theirs. In committing His mother to St. John Jesus knew that the charge would be accepted not as a burden but a gift. Why she did not go to the home of one of her other sons it is impossible to say. They were not yet believers, though soon afterwards they became so; but there may have been other reasons also, to us unknown. At all events, it is easy to see how kind and considerate was the selection of St. John for this office. There are indications in the Gospels that St. John was wealthier, or at least more comfortable in his circumstances, than the rest of the Apostles; and this may have weighed with Jesus: He would not send His mother where she would feel herself to be a burden. It is highly probable also that St. John was unmarried. But there were deeper reasons. There was no arm on which His mother could lean so confidently as that of him who had leaned on her Son's breast. St. Peter, with his hot temper and rough fisherman's ways, would not have been nearly so eligible a choice. John and Mary were kindred spirits. They were especially one in their intense affection for Jesus. They would never tire of speaking to one another about Him. He honoured both of them in each other's eyes by giving them to one another in this way. If He gave Mary a great gift in giving her St. John for a son, He gave him no less a gift by giving him such a mother; for Mary could not but be an ornament to any home. Besides, did He not make St. John in a quite peculiar sense His own brother by substituting him in His own stead as the son of Mary? The Evangelist says that from that hour John took her to his own home. Many have understood this to mean that he at once gently withdrew her from the spot, that she should not be agitated by seeing the death-throes of her Son, though he himself returned to Calvary. It is said by tradition that they lived together twelve years in Jerusalem, and that he refused to leave the city, even for the purpose of preaching the gospel, as long as Mary survived. Only after her death did he depart on those missionary travels which landed him in Ephesus and its neighbourhood, with which his later history is connected. IV. It is not difficult to read the lesson of this touching scene. From the pulpit of His cross Jesus preaches to all ages a sermon on the fifth commandment. The heart of the mother of Jesus was pierced with a sword on account of His sufferings. It was a sharp weapon; but Mary had one thing on which to steady up her soul; it kept her calm even in the wildest moment of her grief--she knew He was innocent. He had always been pure, noble and good; she could be proud of Him even when they were crucifying Him. Many a mother's heart is pierced with anguish on account of a son's illness, or misfortunes, or early death; but she can bear it if she is not pierced with the poisoned sword. What is that? It is when she has to be ashamed of her child--when he is brought to ruin by his own misdeeds. This is a sorrow far worse than death. How beautiful it is to see a mother wearing as her chief ornament the good name and the honourable success of a son! You who still have a mother or a father, let this be to you both a spur to exertion and a talisman against temptation. To some is accorded the rarer privilege of being able to support their parents in old age. And surely there is no sweeter memory in the world than the recollection of having been allowed to do this. "If any widow have children or nephews, let them learn first to show piety at home and to requite their parents; for that is good and acceptable before God. . . . But if any provide not for his own, and specially for those of his own house, he hath denied the faith, and is worse than an infidel." [5] But this sermon, delivered from the pulpit of the cross, has a wider range. It informs us that our Saviour has a concern for our temporal as well as for our eternal interests. Even on the cross, where He was expiating the sin of the world, He was thinking of the comfort of His widowed mother. Let the needy and the deserted take courage from this, and cast all their care upon Him, for He careth for them. It is often an astonishment to see how widows especially are helped through. When they are left, with perhaps a number of little children, it seems incomprehensible how they can get on. Yet not infrequently their families turn out better than those where the father has been spared. One reason is, perhaps, that their children feel from the first that they must take a share of the responsibility, and this makes men and women of them. But the chief reason undoubtedly is that God fulfils His own promise to be a Father to the fatherless and a Husband to the widow, and that they have not been forgotten by Him who in the hour of His absorbing agony remembered Mary. [1] "Woman, behold thy son . . . Behold thy mother." [2] It is not certain whether John xix. 25 describes three women or four. Is the second Salome, John's mother? [3] Chrysostom. [4] "Woman" may mean sadly (proleptically), "Thou hast no son now." [5] 1 Tim. v. 6, 8. CHAPTER XVII. THE FOURTH WORD FROM THE CROSS[1] The Seven Words from the Cross may be divided into two groups. In the first three--namely, the prayer for His crucifiers, the word to the penitent thief, and the directions about His mother--our Lord was dealing with the interests of others; in the last four, to which we now pass, He was absorbed in His own concerns. This division is natural. Many a dying man, after arranging his affairs and saying his farewells, turns his face to the wall, to encounter death and be alone with God. It was highly characteristic of Jesus, however, before turning to His own things, first to mind the things of others. Between these two groups of sayings there seems to have elapsed a long interval. From the sixth hour to the ninth Jesus was silent. And during this interval there was darkness over all the land. Of what precise nature this atmospheric effect may have been it is impossible at this distance to say. But the Evangelists, three of whom mention it, evidently consider it to have indicated in some sense the sympathy of nature with her Lord. It was as if the sun refused to look on such a deed of shame. It may be supposed that by this weird phenomenon the noises round the cross were in some degree hushed. At length the silence was broken by Christ Himself, who, in a loud voice, gave utterance to the Fourth Word from the cross. This was a word of astonishment and agony, yet also of victory. I. Of what nature had been the meditations of our Lord during the three hours of silence? Had He been in an ecstasy of communion with His heavenly Father? Not infrequently has this been vouchsafed to dying saints. And it has sometimes enabled them completely to overcome physical suffering. Martyrs have occasionally been so exalted at the last as to be able even to sing in the flames. It is with awe and astonishment we learn that the very opposite of this was the state of mind of Jesus. The word with which He burst out of the trance of silence may be taken as the index of what was going on in His mind during the preceding hours; and it is a cry out of the lowest depths of despair. Indeed, it is the most appalling sound that ever pierced the atmosphere of this earth. Familiar as it is to us, it cannot be heard by a sensitive ear even at this day without causing a cold shudder of terror. In the entire Bible there is no other sentence so difficult to explain. The first thought of a preacher, on coming to it, is to find some excuse for passing it by; and, after doing his utmost to expound it, he must still confess that it is quite beyond him. Yet there is a great reward in grappling with such difficult passages; for never does the truth impress us so profoundly as when we are made to feel that all the length which we are able to go is only into the shallows of the shore, while beyond our reach lies the great ocean. Even in Christ's own mind the uppermost thought, when He uttered this cry, was one of astonishment. In Gethsemane, we are told, "He was sore amazed." And this is obviously the tone of this utterance also. We almost detect an accentuation of the "Thou" like that in the word with which the murdered Caesar fell. All His life Jesus had been accustomed to find Himself forsaken. The members of His own household early rejected Him. So did His fellow-townsmen in Nazareth. Ultimately the nation at large followed the same course. The multitudes that at one time followed Him wherever He went and hung upon His lips eventually took offence and went away. At last, in the crisis of His fate, one of His nearest followers betrayed Him and the rest forsook Him and fled. But in these disappointments, though He felt them keenly, He had always had one resource: He was always able, when rejected of men, to turn away from them and cast Himself with confidence on the breast of God. Disappointed of human love, He drank the more deeply of the love divine. He always knew that what He was doing or suffering was in accord with the will of God; His feelings kept constant time with the Divine heart; God's thoughts were His thoughts; He could clearly discern the divine intention leading through all the contradictions of His career to a sublime result. Therefore He could calmly say, even at the Last Supper, with reference to the impending desertion of the Twelve, "Behold, the hour cometh, yea, is now come, that ye shall be scattered, every man to his own, and shall leave Me alone; and yet I am not alone, because the Father is with Me." Now, however, the hour had come; and was this expectation fulfilled? They were scattered, as He had predicted, and He was left alone; but was He not alone? was the Father still with Him? His own words supply the answer: "My God, My God, why hast Thou forsaken Me?" II. Although the state of mind of our Lord on this occasion was so different from what we know to have been His habitual mood, yet it does not stand absolutely isolated in His history. We know of at least two experiences somewhat resembling it, and these may in some degree help us to its explanation. The first overtook Him on the occasion of the visit of certain Greeks at the beginning of the last week of His life. They had desired to see Him; but, when they were introduced by Andrew and Philip, Jesus, instead of being exhilarated, as might have been expected, was overcome with a spasm of pain, and groaned, "Now is My soul troubled, and what shall I say? Father, save Me from this hour." The sight of these visitors from the outside world made Him feel how grand and how congenial to Himself would have been a worldwide mission to the heathen, such as He might have undertaken had His life been prolonged; but this was impossible, because in the flower of His age He was to die. The other occasion was the Agony of Gethsemane. A careful and reverent study will reveal that this incident was the effort by which the will of Christ rose into unity with the will of His Father. It belongs to the very essence of human nature that it must grow from stage to stage; and the perfection of our Lord, just because it was human, had to realise itself on every step of a ladder of development. He was always both perfect on the stage which He had reached, and at the same time rising to a higher stage of perfection. Sometimes the step might be more easy, at other times more difficult; the step which He had to take in Gethsemane was supremely difficult; hence the effort and the pain which it cost. It seemed, however, in Gethsemane as if He had finally conquered, and it might have been expected that the mood of weakness and darkness could not come back. Yet it was to be permitted to return once more; and on the cross the attack was far more violent and prolonged than on either of the preceding occasions. Keeping in mind the light which these two previous accesses of the same mood may cast on this one, let us draw near reverently and see how far we may be able to penetrate into the mystery. There can be little doubt that there was a physical element in it. He had now been a considerable time on the cross; and every minute the agony was increasing. The wounds in His hands and feet, exposed to the atmosphere and the sun, grew barked and hardened; the blood, impeded in its circulation, swelled in heart and brain, till these organs were like to burst; and the slightest attempt to move the body from the one intolerable posture caused pains to shoot along the quivering nerves. Bodily suffering clouds the brain and distorts the images formed on the mirror of the mind. Even the face of God, reflected there, may be turned to a shape of terror by the fumes of physical trouble. The horror of mortal suffering may have been greater to Jesus than to other men, because of the fineness and sensitiveness of His physical organization. His body had never been coarsened with sin, and therefore death was utterly alien to it. The stream of physical life, which is one of the precious gifts of God, had poured through His frame in abundant and sunny tides. But now it was being withdrawn, and the counterflow had set in. The unity of a perfect nature was being violently torn asunder; and He felt Himself drifting away from the living world, which to Him had been so full of God's presence and goodness, into the pale, cold regions of inanity.[2] He did not belong to death; yet He was falling into death's grasp. No angel came to rescue Him; God interposed with no miracle to arrest the issue; He was abandoned to His fate. There was more, however, it is easy to see, in the agony which prompted this cry than the merely physical. If in Gethsemane we have the effort of the will of Jesus, as it raised itself into unity with the will of the Father, we here see the effort of His mind as, amidst the confusion and contradictions of the cross, it finally rose into unity with the mind of God. This intellectual character of His pain is indicated by the word "Why." It is always painful when the creature has to say Why to the Creator. We believe that He is Sovereign of the world and Guide of our destiny, and that He urges forward the course of things in the reins of infinite wisdom and love. But, while this is the habitual and healthy sense of the human mind, especially when it is truly religious, there are crises, both in the great and in the little world, when faith fails. The world is out of joint; everything appears to have gone wrong; the reins seem to have slipped out of the hands of God and the chariot to be plunging forward uncontrolled; the course of things seems no more to be presided over by reason, but by a blind, if not a cruel fate. It is then that the poor human mind cries out Why. The entire book of Job is such a cry. Jeremiah cried Why to God in terms of startling boldness. In mortal pain, in bewildering disappointments, in bereavements which empty the heart and empty the world, millions have thus cried Why in every age. It seems an irreligious word. When Jeremiah says, "O Lord, Thou hast deceived me and I was deceived," or when Job demands, "Why did I not from the womb? why did I not give up the ghost when I came out of the belly?" it sounds like the voice of a blasphemer. But indeed it is into the most earnest and delicate souls that this despair is likeliest to slip. The ignorant, the frivolous and the time-serving are safe from it; for they are well enough satisfied with things as they are. Callous minds learn to be content without explanations. But the more deeply pious a mind is, the more jealous must it be for justice and the glory of God; the appearance of unwisdom in the government of the world shocks it; to be able to trace the footsteps of God's care is a necessity of its existence. Hence its pain when these evidences disappear. Now, all the contradictions and confusions of the world were focussed on Golgotha. Injustice was triumphant; innocence was scorned and crushed; everything was exactly the reverse of what it ought to have been. And all the millions of Whys which have risen from agonized souls, jealous for the honour of God but perplexed by His providence, were concentrated in the Why of Christ. How near to us He is! Never perhaps in His whole life did He so completely identify Himself with His poor brethren of mankind. For here He comes down to stand by our side not only when we have to encounter pain and misfortune, bereavement and death, but when we are enduring that pain which is beyond all pains, that horror in whose presence the brain reels, and faith and love, the eyes of life, are put out--the horror of a universe without God, a universe which is one hideous, tumbling, crashing mass of confusion, with no reason to guide and no love to sustain it. Can we advance a step farther into the mystery? The deepest question of all is whether the desertion of Jesus was subjective or objective--that is, whether He had only, on account of bodily weakness and a temporary obscuration of the inward vision, a sense of being abandoned, or whether, in any real sense, God had actually forsaken Him. Of course we are certain that God was infinitely well pleased with Him--never more so, surely, than when He was sacrificing Himself to the uttermost on behalf of others. But was there, at the same time, any outflashing against Him of the reverse side of the Divine nature--the lightning of the Divine wrath? Calvary was an awful revelation of the human heart, whose enmity was directed straight against the perfect revelation of the love of God in Christ. There the sin of man reached its climax and did its worst. What was done there against Christ, and against God in Him, was a kind of embodiment and quintessence of the sin of the whole world. And undoubtedly it was this which was pressing on Jesus; this was "the travail of His soul." He was looking close at sin's utmost hideousness; He was sickened with its contact; He was crushed with its brutality--crushed to death. Yet this human nature was His own; He was identified with it--bone of its bone, flesh of its flesh; and, as in a reprobate family an exquisitely delicate and refined sister may feel the whole weight of the debt and shame of the household to lie on herself, so He felt the unworthiness and hopelessness of the race as if they were His own; and, like the scapegoat on whose head the sins of the community were laid in the old dispensation, He went out into the land of forsakenness. Thus far we may proceed, feeling that we have solid ground beneath our feet. But many have ventured farther. Even Luther and Calvin allowed themselves to say that in the hours which preceded this cry our Lord endured the torments of the damned. And Rambach, whose _Meditations on the Sufferings of Christ_ have fed the piety of Germany for a hundred years, says: "God was now dealing with Him not as a loving and merciful father with his child, but as an offended and righteous judge with an evildoer. The heavenly Father now regards His Son as the greatest sinner to be found beneath the sun, and discharges on Him the whole weight of His wrath." But, if we were to make use of such language, we should be venturing beyond our depth. Much to be preferred is the modest comment of the holy and learned Bengel on our text: "In this fourth word from the cross our Saviour not only says that He has been delivered up into the hands of men, but that He has suffered at the hands of God something unutterable." Certainly there is here something unutterable. We have ventured into the mystery as far as we are able; but we know that we are yet only in the shallows near the shore; the unplumbed ocean lies beyond. III. It may appear an affectation to speak of this as in any sense a cry of victory. Yet, if what has just been said be true, this, which was the extreme moment of suffering, was also the supreme moment of achievement. As the flower, by being crushed, yields up its fragrant essence, so He, by taking into His heart the sin of the world, brought salvation to the world. In point of fact, all history since has shown that it was in this very hour that Christ conquered the heart of mankind. Long before He had said, "I, if I be lifted up from the earth, will draw all men unto Me." And the correctness of this anticipation is matter of history. Christ on the cross has ever since then been the most fascinating object in the eyes of mankind. The mind and heart of humanity have been irresistibly attracted to Him, never weary of studying Him. And the utterance of this cry is the culminating moment to which the inquiring mind specially turns. Theology has its centre in the cross. Sometimes, indeed, it has been shy of it, and has divagated from it in wide circles; but, as soon as it becomes profound and humble again, it always returns. Yes, when it becomes humble! Penitent souls are drawn to the cross, and the deeper their penitence the more are they at home. They stand beside the dying Saviour and say, This is what we ought to have suffered; our life was forfeited by our guilt; thus our blood deserved to flow; we might justly have been banished forever into the desert of forsakenness. But, as they thus make confession, their forfeited life is given back to them for Christ's sake, the peace of God is shed abroad in their hearts, and the new life of love and service begins. The supreme Christian rite brings us to this very spot and to this very moment: "This is My blood of the New Testament, shed for many for the remission of sins." It was not, however, merely in this profound sense that this fourth word of the dying Saviour was a cry of victory. It was so, also, because it liberated Him from His depression. It has been said that when, at His encounter with the Greeks, He groaned, "Father, save Me from this hour," He immediately checked Himself with "Father, glorify Thy name"; likewise that in Gethsemane, when He prayed, "If it be possible, let this cup pass from Me," He hastened to add, "Nevertheless, not My will, but Thine be done"; but that on this occasion the cry of despair was followed by no word of resignation. This, however, is a mistake. The cry itself, though an utterance of despair, yet involved the strongest faith. See how He lays hold of the Eternal with both hands: "My God, My God!" It is a prayer: a thousand times He had turned to this resource In days of trial; and He does so in this supreme trouble. To do so cures despair. No one is forsaken who can pray, "My God." As one in deep water, feeling no bottom, makes a despairing plunge forward and lands on solid ground, so Jesus, in the very act of uttering His despair, overcame it. Feeling forsaken of God, He rushed into the arms of God; and these arms closed round Him in loving protection. Accordingly, as the darkness, which had brooded over all the land, disappeared at the ninth hour, so His mind emerged from eclipse; and, as we shall see, His last words were uttered in His usual mood of serenity. [1] "My God, My God, why hast Thou forsaken Me?" [2] Some of the Fathers thought of the separation of the divine from the human nature as taking place now. CHAPTER XVIII. THE FIFTH WORD FROM THE CROSS[1] The fourth word from the cross we looked upon both as the climax of the struggle which had gone on in the mind of the divine Sufferer during the three hours of silence and darkness which preceded its utterance and as the liberation of His mind from that struggle. This view seems to be confirmed by the terms in which St. John introduces the Fifth Word--"After this, Jesus, knowing that all things were now accomplished,[2] that the Scripture might be fulfilled, saith, I thirst." The phrase, "that the Scripture might be fulfilled," is usually connected with the words, "I thirst," as if the meaning were that He had said this fifth word in fulfilment of some prediction that He would do so; and the Old Testament is ransacked, without much result, for the prophetic words which may be supposed to be alluded to. It is better, however, to connect the phrase with what goes before--"Jesus, knowing that all things were now accomplished." It was only when His work, appointed by God and prescribed in Scripture, was completed, that He became sufficiently conscious of His bodily condition to say, "I thirst." Intense mental preoccupation has a tendency to cause the oblivion of bodily wants. Even the excitement of reading a fascinating book may keep at a distance for hours the sense of requiring sleep or food; and it is only when the reader comes out of the trance of absorption that he realises how spent he is. During the temptation in the wilderness Jesus was too absorbed to be aware of His bodily necessities; but, when the spiritual strain was removed, He "was afterward an hungered." In the present instance, when He came out of His spiritual trance, it was thirst He became conscious of. I remember once talking with a German student who had served in the Franco-Prussian War. He was wounded in an engagement near Paris, and lay on the field unable to stir. He did not know exactly what was the nature of his wound, and he thought that he might be dying. The pain was intense; the wounded and dying were groaning round about him; the battle was still raging; and shots were falling and tearing up the ground in all directions. But after a time one agony, he told me, began to swallow up all the rest, and soon made him forget his wound, his danger and his neighbours. It was the agony of thirst. He would have given the world for a draught of water. This was the supreme distress of crucifixion. The agonies of the horrible punishment were of the most excruciating and complicated order; but, after a time, they all gathered into one central current, in which they were lost and swallowed up--that of devouring thirst; and it was this that drew from our Lord the fifth word.[3] I. This was the only cry of physical pain uttered by our Lord on the cross. As was remarked in a previous chapter, it was not uncommon for the victims of crucifixion, when the ghastly operation of nailing them to the tree began, to writhe and resist, and to indulge either in abject entreaties to be saved from the inevitable or in wild defiance of their fate. But at this stage Jesus uttered never a word of complaint. Afterwards also, in spite of the ever-increasing pain, He preserved absolute self-control. He was absorbed either in caring for others or in prayer to God. It is a sublime example of patience. It rebukes our softness and intolerance of pain. How easily we are made to cry out; how peevish and ill-tempered we become under slight annoyances! A headache, a toothache, a cold, or some other slight affair, is supposed to be a sufficient justification for losing all self-control and making a whole household uncomfortable. Suffering does not always sanctify. It sours some tempers and makes them selfish and exacting. This is the besetting sin of invalids--to become absorbed in their own miseries and to make all about them the slaves of their caprices. But many triumph nobly over their temptation; and in this they are following the example of the suffering Saviour. There are sick-rooms which it is a privilege to visit. You may know that the place is a scene of excruciating pain; but on the pillow there lies a sweet, patient face; the voice is cheerful and thankful; and, instead of being self-absorbed, the mind is full of unselfish thoughts for others. I recall the description given by a friend of one such invalid's chamber, which used to be filled with the most beautiful cheerfulness and activity. At a certain time of year you might see in it quite an exhibition of stockings, pinafores, dresses and other pretty things, prepared for the children of a mission-school in India. By thinking of the needs of those children far away the invalid not only kept her own sufferings at bay, but created for herself delightful connections with God's work and God's people. Yet she was one who might easily have asserted the right to do nothing, and have taxed the patience and the services of those by whom she was surrounded. But there is another lesson besides patience in this word of Christ. He only uttered one word of physical pain; but He did utter one. His self-control was not proud or sullen. There is a silence in suffering that is mere doggedness, when we screw our courage to the sticking-place and resolve that nobody shall hear any complaint from us. We succeed in being silent, but it is with a bad grace: there is no love or patience in our hearts, but only selfish determination. This is especially a temptation when anyone has injured us and we do not wish to let him see how much we have suffered, lest he should be gratified. Jesus was surrounded by those who had wantonly wronged Him; not only had they inflicted pain, but they had laughed and mocked at His sufferings. He might have resolved not on any account to show His feelings or at least to ask any kindness. It is sometimes more difficult to ask a favour than to grant one; it requires more of the spirit of forgiveness.[4] But not only did Jesus ask a favour: He expected to receive it. Shamefully as He had been treated by those to whom He had to appeal, He believed that there might still be some remains of goodness at the bottom of their hearts. All His life He had been wont to discover more good in the worst than others believed to exist, and to the last He remained true to His own faith. The maxim of the world is to take all men for rogues till the reverse has been proved. Especially when people have enemies, they believe the own very worst of them and paint their characters without a single streak of any colour but black. To those from whom we differ in opinion we attribute the basest motives and refuse to hear any good of them. But this is not the way of Christ: He believed there were some drops of the milk of human kindness even in the hard-hearted Roman soldiers; and He was not disappointed.[5] II. It is impossible to hear this pathetic cry, so expressive of helplessness and dependence, without recalling other words of our Lord to which it stands in marked contrast. Can this be He who, standing in Jerusalem not long before, surrounded with a great multitude, lifted up His voice and cried, "If any man thirst, let him come unto Me and drink"? Can it be He who, standing at the well of Jacob with the Samaritan woman and pointing to the springing fountain at their feet, said, "Whosoever drinketh of this water shall thirst again; but whosoever drinketh of the water that I shall give him shall never thirst; but the water that I shall give shall be in him a well of water springing up into everlasting life"? Can He who in words like these offered to quench the thirst of the world be the same who now whispers in mortal exhaustion, "I thirst"? It is the same; and this is a contrast which runs through His whole life, the contrast between inward wealth and outward poverty. He was able to enrich the whole world, yet He had to be supported by the contributions of the women who followed Him; He could say, "I am the bread of life," yet He sometimes hungered for a meal; He could promise thrones and many mansions to those who believed on Him, yet He said Himself, "Foxes have holes, and the birds of the air have nests, yet the Son of man hath not where to lay His head." In a materialistic age, when in so many circles money is the measure of the man, and when people are so excessively concerned about what they shall eat and what they shall drink and wherewithal they shall be clothed, it is worth while to bear this contrast in mind. Seldom have the noblest specimens of humanity been those who have been able to wallow in luxury; and the men who have enriched the world with the treasures of the mind have not infrequently been hardly able to procure daily bread. Our older boys may have seen on some of their school-books the name of Heyne. His is an immortal name in classical scholarship; but when he was a student, and even when he was enriching the literature of his country with splendid editions of the ancient writers, he was literally starving, and had sometimes to subsist on skins of apples and other offal picked up from the streets. Our own Samuel Johnson, to whose wisdom the whole globe is now a debtor, when engaged on some of his greatest works, had not shoes in which to go out, and did not know where his dinner was to come from. It would be easy from history to multiply instances of those who, though poor, yet have made many rich. The inference is not, that one must be poor externally if one desires to be inwardly rich. The materially poor are not all spiritually rich by any means; multitudes of them, alas, are as poverty-stricken in mind and character as in physical condition. Perhaps one might even go so far as to say that as a rule the inwardly rich enjoy at least a competent portion of the good things of this life; for intelligence and character have even a market value, Money, too, can be made subservient to the highest aims of the soul. But what it is essential to remember is, that the inward is the true wealth, and that we must seek and obtain it, even, if necessary, at the sacrifice of the outward. If life is not to be impoverished and materialised, some in every age must make the choice between the inward and the outward wealth; and no one is worthy to be the servant of scholarship, art or religion who is not prepared for the choice should it fall to him. It is by the possession of intelligence, generosity and spiritual power that we enter into the higher ranks of manhood; and the most Christlike trait of all is to have the will and the ability to overflow in influences and activities which sweeten and elevate the lives of others. III. It would appear that some of those round the cross were opposed to granting the request of Jesus. Misunderstanding the fourth word,[6] they supposed He was calling for Elijah; and they proposed not to help Him even with a drink of water, in order to see whether or not Elijah would come to the rescue. But in one man the impulse of humanity was too strong, and he gave Jesus what He desired. We almost love the man for it, and we envy his office. But the Saviour is still saying, "I thirst." How and where? Listen! "I was thirsty, and ye gave Me drink." "Lord, when saw we Thee athirst and gave Thee drink?" "Inasmuch as ye did it unto one of the least of these My brethren, ye did it unto Me." Wherever the brothers and sisters of Jesus are suffering, sitting in lonely rooms and wishing that somebody would come and visit them, or lying on beds of pain and needing somebody to come and ease the pillow or to reach the cup to the dry lips, there Christ is saying, "I thirst." Perhaps He is saying it in vain. There are multitudes of professing Christians who never from end to end of the year visit any poor person. They never thread the obscure streets or ascend the grimy stairs in search of God's hidden ones. They have never acquired the art of cheering a dark home with a flower, or a hymn, or a diet, or the touch of a sympathetic hand and the smile of a healthy face. It would completely alter the Christianity of many if they could begin to do these lowly services; it would put reality into it, and it would bring into the heart a joy and exhilaration hitherto unknown. For Christ sees to it that none who thus serve Him lose their reward. An American friend told me that once, when travelling on the continent of Europe, he fell in with a fellow-countryman on board a Rhine steamer. They talked about America and soon confided to each other from which parts of the country they came, with other fragments of personal detail. They continued to travel for some days together, and my informant was so overwhelmed with kindness by his companion that at last he ventured to ask the reason. "Well," rejoined the other, "when the War was going on, I was serving in your native state; and one day our march lay through the town in which you have told me you were born. The march had been very prolonged; it was a day of intense heat; I was utterly fatigued and felt on the point of dying for thirst, when a kind woman came out of one of the houses and gave me a glass of cold water. And I have been trying to repay through you, her fellow-townsman, the kindness she showed to me." Does it not remind us of the great word of the Son of God, "Whosoever shall give to drink unto one of these little ones a cup of cold water only in the name of a disciple, verily I say unto you, he shall in no wise lose his reward"? But is this not enough? Does anyone wish to get still nearer to Christ and hold the cup not only to Him in the person of His members but to His own very lips? Well, this is possible too. Jesus still says, "I thirst." He thirsts for love. He thirsts for prayer. He thirsts for service. He thirsts for holiness. Whenever the heart of a human being turns to Him with a genuine impulse of penitence, affection or consecration, the Saviour sees of the travail of His soul and is satisfied. [1] "I thirst." [2] _tetelestai_--the very word of Jesus Himself--"It is finished--" which may possibly have been fourth. [3] He had by this time been on the cross for four hours or more. The arrest took place about midnight; the ecclesiastical trial terminated about sunrise; the proceedings before Pilate occupied perhaps from six to nine, or rather more; the crucifixion took place towards noon; from noon till three o'clock darkness prevailed; and between this and sunset the death and burial took place. See Matt. xxvii. 1; Mark xv. 25, 33, 34, 42. St. John's statement of time, xix. 14, is a difficulty. He appears to reckon from a different starting-point. See Andrews' _Life of Our Lord_ (new edition), pp. 545 ff. In the same passage St. John says, "It was the preparation of the passover"; does this mean the day before the feast commenced, or the day before the Sabbath of Passover Week? There are held to be other indications that St. John represents the crucifixion as having taken place the day before the Passover began, whereas the Synoptists place it the day after (especially John xviii. 28, where the question is whether "the passover" means the Paschal Lamb or the Chagigah, a portion of the feast belonging to the second day). On this question there is an extensive literature. See Andrews, 452-81, and Keim, vol. vi., pp. 195-219. [4] "To be in too great a hurry to discharge an obligation is itself a kind of ingratitude."--LA ROCHEFOUCAULD. [5] Hoffmann says that Jesus refused the intoxicating draught, before the crucifixion began, that His senses might be kept clear; and that now He accepted the refreshing draught for the same purpose. [6] "Eli, Eli," etc. CHAPTER XIX. THE SIXTH WORD FROM THE CROSS[1] Like the Fifth, the Sixth Word from the Cross is, in the Greek, literally a single word; and it has been often affirmed to be the greatest single word ever uttered. It may be said to comprehend in itself the salvation of the world; and thousands of human souls, in the agony of conviction or in the crisis of death, have laid hold of it as the drowning sailor grasps the life-buoy. Sometimes it has been interpreted as merely the last sign of ebbing life: as if the meaning were, It is all over; this long agony of pain and weakness is done at last. But the dying words of Jesus were not spoken in this tone. The Fifth Word, we are expressly told, was uttered with a loud voice; so was the Seventh; and, although this is not expressly stated about the Sixth, the likelihood is that, in this respect, it resembled the other two. It was not a cry of defeat, but of victory. Both the suffering of our Lord and His work were finishing together; and it is natural to suppose that He was referring to both. Suffering and work are the two sides of every life, the one predominating in some cases and the other in others. In the experience of Jesus both were prominent: He had both a great work to accomplish and He suffered greatly in the process of achieving it. But now both have been brought to a successful close; and this is what the Sixth Word expresses. It is, therefore, first, the Worker's Cry of Achievement; and, secondly, the Sufferer's Cry of Relief. I. Christ, when on earth, had a great work on hand, which was now finished. This dying word carries us back to the first word from His lips which has been preserved to us: "Wist ye not that I must be about my Father's business?" Even at twelve years of age He already knew that there was a business entrusted to Him by His Father in heaven, about which His thoughts had to be occupied. We cannot perhaps say that then already He comprehended it in its whole extent. It was to grow upon Him with the development of His manhood. In lonely meditations in the fields and pastures of Nazareth it seized and inspired His mind. As He cultivated the life of prayer, it became more and more His settled purpose. The more He became acquainted with human nature, and with the character and the needs of His own age, the more clearly did it rise before Him. As He heard and read the Scriptures of the Old Testament, He saw it hinted and foreshadowed in type and symbol, in rite and institution, in law and prophets. There He found the programme of His life sketched out beforehand; and perhaps one of His uppermost thoughts, when He said, "It is finished," was that all which had been foretold about Him in the ancient Scriptures had been fulfilled. After His public life commenced, the sense of being charged with a task which He had to fulfil was one of the master-thoughts of His life. It was written on His very face and bodily gait. He never had the easy, indeterminate air of one who does not know what He means to do in the world. "I have a baptism," He would say, "to be baptized with, and how am I straitened till it be accomplished." In a rapt moment, at the well of Sychar, after His interview with the Samaritan woman, when His disciples proffered Him food, He put it away from Him, saying, "I have meat to eat that ye know not of," and He added, "My meat is to do the will of Him that sent Me and to finish His work." On His last journey to Jerusalem, as He went on in front of His disciples, they were amazed and, as they followed, they were afraid. His purpose possessed Him; He was wholly in it, body, soul and spirit. He bestowed on it every scrap of power He possessed, and every moment of His time. Looking back now from the close of life, He has not to regret that any talent has been either abused or left unused. All have been husbanded for the one purpose and all lavished on the work. What was this work of Christ? In what terms shall we express it? At all events it was a greater work than any other son of man has ever attempted. Men have attempted much, and some of them have given themselves to their chosen enterprises with extraordinary devotion and tenacity. The conqueror has devoted himself to his scheme of subduing the world; the patriot to the liberation of his country; the philosopher to the enlargement of the realm of knowledge; the inventor has rummaged with tireless industry among the secrets of nature; and the discoverer has risked his life in opening up untrodden continents and died with his face to his task. But none ever undertook a task worthy to be compared with that which engrossed the mind of Jesus. It was a work for God with men, and it was a work for men with God. The thought that it was a work for God, with which God had charged Him, was often in Christ's mouth, and this consciousness was one of the chief sources of His inspiration. "I must work the work of Him that sent Me while it is day," He would say; or, "Therefore doth my Father love Me, because I do always those things which please Him." And, at the close of His life-work, He said, in words closely related to those of our text, "I have glorified Thee on the earth, I have finished the work which Thou gavest Me to do." This was His task, to glorify God on the earth--to make known the Father to the children of men. But just as obviously was it a work for men with God. This was stamped on all His words and on the entire tenor of His life. He was bringing men back to God, and He had to remove the obstacles which stood in the way. He had to roll away the stone from the sepulchre in which humanity was entombed and call the dead to come forth. He had to press His weight against the huge iron gates of human guilt and doom and force them open. He had done so; and, as He said, "It is finished," He was at the same time saying to all mankind, "Behold, I have set before you an open door, and no man can shut it." The more difficult and prolonged any task is, the greater is the satisfaction of finishing it. Everyone knows what it is, after accomplishing anything on which a great deal of labour has been bestowed or the accomplishment of which has been delayed, to be able to say, "There; it is finished at last." In the more signal efforts of human genius and energy there is a satisfaction of final achievement which warms even spectators with sympathy at the distance of hundreds of years. What must it be to the poet, after equipping himself by the labours of a lifetime with the stores of knowledge and the skill in the use of language requisite for the composition of a "Divine Comedy" or a "Paradise Lost," and after wearing himself lean for many years at his task, to be able at last, when the final line has been penned, to write Finis at the bottom of his performance? What must it have been to Columbus, after he had worn his life out in seeking the patronage necessary for his undertaking and endured the perils of voyaging in stormy seas and among mutinous mariners, to see at last the sunlight on the peak of Darien which informed him that his dream was true and his lifework accomplished? When we read how William Wilberforce, the champion of Slave Emancipation, heard on his deathbed, a few hours before he breathed his last, that the British Legislature had agreed to the expenditure necessary to secure the object to which he had sacrificed his life, what heart can refuse its tribute of sympathetic joy, as it thinks of him expiring with the shouts of emancipated millions in his ears? These are feeble suggestions of the triumph with which Christ saw, fallen behind Him, His accomplished task, as He cried, "It is finished." II. If Jesus had during life a vast work on hand which He was able on the cross to say He had finished, He was in quite as exceptional a degree a sufferer; yet on the cross He was able to say that His suffering also was finished. Suffering is the reverse side of work. It is the shadow that accompanies achievement, as his shadow follows a man. It is due to the resistance offered to the worker by the medium in which he toils. The life of Jesus was one of great suffering, because He had to do His work in an extremely resistant medium. His purpose was so beneficent, and His passion for the good of the world so obvious, that it might have been expected that He would meet with nothing but encouragement and furtherance. He was so religious that all the religious forces might have been expected to second His efforts; He was so patriotic that it would have been natural if His native country had welcomed Him with open arms; He was so philanthropic that He ought to have been the idol of the multitude. But at every step He met with opposition. Everything that was influential in His age and country turned against Him. Obstruction became more and more persistent and cruel, till at length on Calvary it reached its climax, when all the powers of earth and hell were combined with the one purpose of crushing Him and thrusting Him out of existence. And they succeeded. But the mystery of suffering is very insufficiently explained when it is defined as the reaction of the work on the worker. While a man's work is what he does with the force of his will, suffering is what is done to him against his will. It may be done by the will of opponents and enemies. But this is never the whole explanation. Above this will, which may be thoroughly evil, there is a will which is good and means us good by our suffering. Suffering is the will of God. It is His chief instrument for fashioning His creatures according to His own plan. While by our work we ought to be seeking to make a bit of the world such as He would have it to be, by our suffering He is seeking to make us such as He would have us to be. He blocks up our pathway by it on this side and on that, in order that we may be kept in the path which He has appointed. He prunes our desires and ambitions; He humbles us and makes us meek and acquiescent. By our work we help to make a well-ordered world, but by our suffering He makes a sanctified man; and in His eyes this is by far the greater triumph. Perhaps this is the most difficult half of life to manage. While it is by no means easy to accomplish the work of life, it is harder still to bear suffering and to benefit by it. Have you ever seen a man to whom nature had given great talents and grace great virtues, so that the possibilities of his life seemed unbounded, while he had imagination enough to expatiate over them: a man who might have been a missionary, opening up dark countries to civilisation and the gospel; or a statesman, swaying a parliament with his eloquence and shaping the destinies of millions by his wisdom; or a thinker, wrestling with the problems of the age, sowing the seeds of light, and raising for himself an imperishable monument: but who was laid hold of by some remorseless disease or suddenly crushed by some accident; so that all at once his schemes were upset and his life narrowed to petty anxieties about his health and shifts to avoid the evil day, which could not, however, be long postponed? And did it not seem to you, as you watched him, to be far harder for him to accept this destiny with a good grace and with cheerful submission than it would have been to accomplish the career of enterprise and achievement which once seemed to lie before him? To do nothing is often more difficult than to do the greatest things, and to submit requires more faith than to achieve. The life of Christ was hemmed and crushed in on every hand. Evil men were the proximate cause of this; but He acknowledged behind them the will of God. He had to accept a career of shame instead of glory, of brief and limited activity instead of far-travelling beneficence, of premature and violent death instead of world-wide and everlasting empire. But He never murmured; however bitter any sacrifice might be on other grounds, He made it sweet to Himself by reflecting that it was the will of His Father. When the worst came to the worst, and He was forced to cry, "If it be possible, let this cup pass from Me," He was swift to add, "Nevertheless not My will, but Thine, be done." And thus on step after step of the ladder His thoughts were brought into perfect accord with His Father's, and His will with His Father's will. At last on the cross the cup out of which He had drunk so often was put into His hands for the last time. The draught was large, black and bitter as never before. But He did not flinch. He drank it up. As He did so, the last segment of the circle of His own perfection completed itself; and, while, flinging the cup away after having exhausted the last drop, He cried, "It is finished," the echo came back from heaven from those who saw with wonder and adoration the perfect round of His completed character, "It is finished." Though these two sides of the life of Christ are separable in thought, it is evident that they constitute together but one life.[2] The work He did involved the suffering which He bore and lent to it meaning and dignity. On the other hand, the suffering perfected the Worker and thus conferred greatness on His work. In His crowning task of atoning for the sin of the world it was as a sufferer that He accomplished the will of God. And now both are finished; and henceforward the world has a new possession: it has had other perfect things; but never before and never since has it had a perfect life. [1] "It is finished." [2] Sometimes they are expressed by saying that life is both a Mission and a Discipline. CHAPTER XX. THE SEVENTH WORD FROM THE CROSS[1] While all the words of dying persons are full of interest, there is special importance attached to the last of them. This is the Last Word of Jesus; and both for this reason and for others it claims particular attention. A noted Englishman is recorded to have said, when on his deathbed, to a nephew, "Come near and see how a Christian can die." Whether or not that was a wise saying, certainly to learn how to die is one of the most indispensable acquirements of mortals; and nowhere can it be learnt so well as by studying the death of Christ. This Last Word especially teaches us how to die. It will, however, teach us far more, if we have the wit to learn: it contains not only the art of dying but also the art of living. I. The final word of the dying Saviour was a prayer. Not all the words from the cross were prayers. One was addressed to the penitent thief, another to His mother and His favourite disciple, and a third to the soldiers who were crucifying Him; but prayer was distinctly the language of His dying hours. It was not by chance that His very last word was a prayer; for the currents within Him were all flowing Godwards. While prayer is appropriate for all times and seasons, there are occasions when it is singularly appropriate. At the close of the day, when we are about to enter into the state of sleep, which is an image of death, the most natural of all states of mind is surely prayer. In moments of mortal peril, as on shipboard when a multitude are suddenly confronted with death, an irresistible impulse presses men to their knees. At the communion table, when the bread and the wine are circulating in silence, every thoughtful person is inevitably occupied with prayer. But on a death-bed it is more in its place than anywhere else. Then we are perforce parting with all that is earthly--with relatives and friends, with business and property, with the comforts of home and the face of the earth. How natural to lay hold of what alone we can keep hold of; and this is what prayer does; for it lays hold of God. It is so natural to pray then that prayer might be supposed to be an invariable element of the last scenes. But it is not always. A death-bed without God is an awful sight; yet it does occur. The currents of the mind may be flowing so powerfully earthward that even then they cannot be diverted. There are even death-beds where the thought of God is a terror which the dying man keeps away; and sometimes his friends assist him to keep it away, suffering none to be seen and nothing to be said that could call God to mind. Natural as prayer is, it is only so to those who have learned to pray before. It had long been to Jesus the language of life. He had prayed without ceasing--on the mountain-top and in the busy haunts of men, by Himself and in company with others--and it was only the bias of the life asserting itself in death when, as He breathed His last, He turned to God. If, then, we would desire our last words to be words of prayer, we should commence to pray at once. If the face of God is to shine on our death-bed, we must now acquaint ourselves with Him and be at peace. If, as we look upon the dying Christ or on the dying saints, we say, "Let me die the death of the righteous, and let my last end be like his," then we must begin now to live the life of the righteous and to practise its gracious habits. II. The last word of the dying Saviour was a quotation from Scripture. This was not the first time our Lord quoted Scripture on the cross: His great cry, "My God, My God, why hast Thou forsaken Me?" was likewise borrowed from the Old Testament, and it is possible that there is Scriptural allusion in others of the Seven Words. If prayer is natural to the lips of the dying, so is Scripture. For different seasons and for different uses there is special suitability in different languages and literatures. Latin is the language of law and scholarship, French of conversation and diplomacy, German of philosophy, English of commerce. But in the most sacred moments and transactions of life there is no language like that of the Bible. Especially is this the case in everything connected with death. On a tombstone, for example, how irrelevant, as a rule, seem all other quotations, but how perfect is the fitness of a verse from Scripture. And on a death-bed there are no words which so well become the dying lips. This is strikingly illustrated by the following extract, guaranteed as authentic, from a private diary:--"I remember, when I was a student, visiting a dying man. He had been in the university with me, but a few years ahead; and, at the close of a brilliant career in college, he was appointed to a professorship of philosophy in a colonial university. But, after a very few years, he fell into bad health; and he came home to Scotland to die. It was a summer Sunday afternoon when I called to see him, and it happened that I was able to offer him a drive. His great frame was with difficulty got into the open carriage; but then he lay back comfortably and was able to enjoy the fresh air. Two other friends were with him that day--college companions, who had come out from the city to visit him. On the way back they dropped into the rear, and I was alone beside him, when he began to talk with appreciation of their friendship and kindness. 'But,' he said, 'do you know what they have been doing all day?' I could not guess. 'Well,' he said, 'they have been reading to me _Sartor Resartus_; and oh! I am awfully tired of it.' Then, turning on me his large eyes, he began to repeat, 'This is a faithful saying, and worthy of all acceptation, that Jesus Christ came into the world to save sinners, of whom I am chief;' and then he added with great earnestness, 'There is nothing else of any use to me now.' I had not opened the subject at all: perhaps I was afraid to introduce it to one whom I felt to be so much my superior; but I need not say how overjoyed I was to obtain such a glimpse into the very depths of a great, true mind." _Sartor Resartus_ is one of the best of books; there are few to be so heartily recommended. Yet there are moments in life--and those immediately before death are among them--when even such a book may be felt to be irrelevant, and, indeed, no book is appropriate except the one which contains the words of eternal life. It is worth noting from which portion of the Old Testament Jesus fetched the word on which He stayed up His soul in this supreme moment. The quotation is from the thirty-first Psalm. The other great word uttered on the cross to which I have already alluded was also taken from one of the Psalms--the twenty-second. This is undoubtedly the most precious of all the books of the Old Testament. It is a book penned as with the life-blood of its authors; it is the record of humanity's profoundest sorrows and sublimest ecstasies; it is the most perfect expression which has ever been given to experience; it has been the _vade-mecum_ of all the saints; and to know and love it is one of the best signs of spirituality. Jesus knew where to go in the Bible for the language that suited Him; for He had been a diligent student of it all His days. He heard it in the home of His childhood; He listened to it in the synagogue; probably He got the use of the synagogue rolls and hung over it in secret. He knew it through and through. Therefore, when He became a preacher, His language was saturated with it, and in controversy, by the apt use of it, He could put to shame those who were its professional students. But in His private life likewise He employed it in every exigency. He fought with it the enemy in the wilderness and overcame him; and now, in the supreme need of a dying hour, it stood Him in good stead. It is to those who, like Jesus, have hidden God's Word in their hearts that it is a present help in every time of need; and, if we wish to stay ourselves upon it in dying, we ought to make it the man of our counsel in living. It is worth observing in what manner Jesus made this quotation from the Psalter: He added something at the beginning and He omitted something at the close. At the beginning He added, "Father." This is not in the psalm. It could not have been. In the Old Testament the individual had not begun yet to address God by this name, though God was called the Father of the nation as a whole. The new consciousness of God which Christ introduced into the world is embodied in this word, and, by prefixing it to the citation, He gave the verse a new colouring. We may, then, do this with the Old Testament: we may put New-Testament meaning into it. Indeed, in connection with this very verse we have a still more remarkable illustration of the same treatment. Stephen, the first martyr of Christianity, was in many respects very like his Master, and in his martyrdom closely imitated Him. Thus on the field of death he repeated Christ's prayer for His enemies--"Lord, lay not this sin to their charge." Also, he imitated this final word, but he put it in a new form, "Lord Jesus, receive my spirit;" that is, he addressed to Christ the dying prayer which Christ Himself addressed to the Father.[2] The other alteration which Jesus made was the omission of the words, "for Thou hast redeemed me." It would not have been fitting for Him to employ them. But we will not omit them; and if, like Stephen, we address the prayer to Christ, how much richer and more pathetic are the words to us than they were even to him who first penned them. III. It was about His spirit that the dying Saviour prayed. Dying persons are sometimes much taken up with their bodies. Their pain and trouble may occasion this, and the prescriptions of the physician may require close attention. Some display a peculiar anxiety even about what is to happen to the body after the life has left it, giving the minutest instructions as to their own obsequies. Not infrequently the minds of the dying are painfully occupied with their worldly affairs: they have their property to dispose of, and they are distracted with anxieties about their families. The example of Jesus shows that it is not wrong to bestow attention on these things even on a deathbed; for His fifth word, "I thirst," had reference to His own bodily necessities; and, whilst hanging on the cross, He made provision for His mother's future comfort. But His supreme concern was His spirit; to the interests of which He devoted His final prayer. What is the spirit? It is the finest, highest, sacredest part of our being. In modern and ordinary language we call it the soul, when we speak of man as composed of body and soul; but in the language of Scripture it is distinguished even from the soul as the most lofty and exquisite part of the inner man. It is to the rest of our nature what the flower is to the plant or what the pearl is to the shell. It is that within us which is specially allied to God and eternity. It is also, however, that which sin seeks to corrupt and our spiritual enemies seek to destroy. No doubt these are specially active in the article of death; it is their last chance; and fain would they seize the spirit as it parts from the body and, dragging it down, rob it of its destiny. Jesus knew that He was launching out into eternity; and, plucking His spirit away from these hostile hands which were eager to seize it, He placed it in the hands of God. There it was safe. Strong and secure are the hands of the Eternal. They are soft and loving too. With what a passion of tenderness must they have received the spirit of Jesus. "I have covered thee," said God to His servant in an ancient prophecy, "in the shadow of My hand;" and now Jesus, escaping from all the enemies, visible and invisible, by whom He was beset, sought the fulfilment of this prophecy. This is the art of dying; but is it not also the art of living? The spirit of every son of Adam is threatened by dangers at death; but it is threatened with them also in life. As has been said, it is our flower and our pearl; but the flower may be crushed and the pearl may be lost long before death arrives. "The flesh lusteth against the spirit." So does the world. Temptation assails it, sin denies it. No better prayer, therefore, could be offered by a living man, morning by morning, than this of the dying Saviour. Happy is he who can say, in reference to his spirit, "I know whom I have believed, and I am persuaded that He is able to keep that which I have committed to Him against that day." IV. This last word of the expiring Saviour revealed His view of death. The word used by Jesus in commending His spirit to God implies that He was giving it away in the hope of finding it again. He was making a deposit in a safe place, to which, after the crisis of death was over, He would come and recover it. Such is the force of the word, as is easily seen in the quotation just made from St. Paul, where he says that he knows that God will keep that which he has committed to Him--using the same word as Jesus--"against that day." [3] Which day? Obviously some point in the future when he could appear and claim from God that which he had entrusted to Him. Such a date was also in Christ's eye when He said, "Father, into Thy hands I commend my spirit." Death is a disruption of the parts of which human nature is composed. One part--the spirit--was going away to God; another was in the hands of men, who were wreaking on it their wicked will; and it was on its way to the house appointed for all living. But Jesus was looking forward to a reunion of the separated parts, when they would again find each other, and the integrity of the personal life be restored. The most momentous question which the dying can ask, or which the living can ask in the prospect of death, is, "If a man die, shall he live again?" does he all die? and does he die forever? There is a terrible doubt in the human heart that it may be so; and there have never been wanting teachers who have turned this doubt into a dogma. They hold that mind is only a form or a function of matter, and that, therefore, in the dissolution of the bodily materials, man dissolves and mixes with the material universe. Others, while holding fast the distinction between mind and matter, have taught that, as the body returns to the dust, the mind returns to the ocean of being, in which its personality is lost, as the drop is in the sea, and there can be no reunion. There is, however, something high and sacred within us that rebels against these doctrines; and the best teachers of the race have encouraged us to hope for something better. Still, their assurances have been hesitating and their own faith obscure. It is to Christ we have to go: He has the words of eternal life. He spoke on this subject without hesitation or obscurity; and His dying word proves that He believed for Himself what He taught to others. Not only, however, has He by His teaching brought life and immortality to light: He is Himself the guarantee of the doctrine; for He is our immortal life. Because we are united to Him we know we can never perish; nothing, not even death, can separate us from His love; "Because I live," He has said, "ye shall live also." It may be that in a very literal sense we have in the study of this sentence been learning the art of dying: these may be our own dying words. They have been the dying words of many. When John Huss was being led to execution, there was stuck on his head a paper cap, scrawled over with pictures of devils, to whom the wretched priests by whom he was surrounded consigned his soul; but again and again he cried, "Father, into Thy hands I commend my spirit." These were also the last words of Polycarp, of Jerome of Prague, of Luther, of Melanchthon, and of many others. Who could wish his spirit to be carried away to God in a more glorious vehicle? But, whether or not we may use this prayer in death, let us diligently make use of it in life. Close not the book without breathing, "Father, into Thy hands I commend my spirit." [1] "Father, into Thy hands I commend My spirit." [2] The first business of the interpreter of Scripture is to find out precisely what every verse or paragraph meant at the time and place where it was written; and there is endless profit in the exact determination of this original application. But, whilst the interpreter's task begins, it does not end with this. The Bible is a book for every generation; and the deduction of the message which it is intended to convey to the present day is as truly the task of the interpreter. There is a species of exegesis, sometimes arrogating to itself the sole title to be considered scientific, by which the garden of Scripture is transmuted into an herbarium of withered specimens. [3] Christ's word is _paratithemai_, and St. Paul's, 2 Tim. i. 12, _ten paratheken mou_, according to the best reading. CHAPTER XXI. THE SIGNS There are indications that to some of those who took part in the crucifixion of Christ His death presented hardly anything to distinguish it from an ordinary execution; and there were others who were anxious to believe that it had no features which were extraordinary. But God did not leave His Son altogether without witness. The end of the Saviour's sufferings was accompanied by certain signs, which showed the interest excited by them in the world unseen. I. The first sign was the rending of the veil of the temple. This was a heavy curtain covering the entrance to the Holy Place or the entrance to the Holy of Holies--most probably the latter. Both entrances were thus protected, and Josephus gives the following description of one of the curtains, which will probably convey a fair idea of either; five ells high and sixteen broad, of Babylonian texture, and wonderfully stitched of blue, white, scarlet and purple--representing the universe in its four elements--scarlet standing for fire and blue for air by their colours, and the white linen for earth and the purple for sea on account of their derivation, the one, from the flax of the earth and the other from the shellfish of the sea. The fact that the rent proceeded from top to bottom was considered to indicate that it was made by the finger of God; but whether any physical means may have been employed we cannot tell. Some have thought of the earthquake, which took place at the same moment, as being connected with it through the loosening of a beam or some similar accident.[1] At critical moments in history, when the minds of men are charged with excitement, even slight accidents may assume remarkable significance.[2] Such incidents occur at turning-points of the life even of individuals.[3] They derive their significance from the emotion with which the minds of observers happen at the time to be filled. No doubt the rending of the temple veil might appear to some a pure accident, while in the minds of others it crystallised a hundred surging thoughts. But we must ascribe to it a higher dignity and a divine intention. Like the pillar of cloud and fire in the wilderness, it had a double face--one of judgment and another of mercy. It betokened the desecration of the shrine and the exodus of the Deity from the temple whose day of opportunity and usefulness was over. And it is curious to note how at the time not only the Christian but even the Jewish mind was big with this thought. There is a Jewish legend in Josephus, which is referred to also by the Roman historian Tacitus, that at the Passover some years after this the east door of the inner court of the temple, which was so heavy that twenty men were required to close it, and was, besides, at the moment strongly locked and barred, suddenly at midnight flew open; and, the following Pentecost, the priests whose duty it was to guard the court by night, heard first a rushing noise as of hurrying feet and then a loud cry, as of many voices, saying, "Let us depart from hence." Nor was it only in Palestine that in that age the air was charged with the impression that a turning-point in history had been reached, and that the ancient world was passing away. Plutarch[4] heard a singular story of one Epitherses from the rhetorician Aemilianus, who had it from the man's father. On a certain occasion this Epitherses happened to be a passenger on board a ship which got becalmed among the Echinades. As it stood near one of the islands, suddenly there came from the shore a voice, loud and clear, calling Thamus, the pilot, an Egyptian, by his name. Twice he kept silence; but, when the call came the third time, he replied; whereupon the voice cried still louder, "When you come to the Paludes, proclaim that the great Pan is dead." Pan being the god of nature in that ancient world, all who heard were terrified, and they debated whether or not they should obey the command. At last it was agreed that if, when they came to the Paludes, it was windy, they were not to obey, but, if calm, they would. It turned out to be calm; and, accordingly, the pilot, standing on the prow of the vessel, shouted out the words; whereupon the air was filled, not with an echo, but the loud groaning of a great multitude mingled with surprise.[5] The pilot was called before the Emperor Tiberius, who strictly enquired into the truth of the incident. Such was the meaning of the rending of the veil on its dark side: it denoted that the reign of the gods was over and that Jerusalem was no longer to be the place where men ought to worship. But it had at the same time a bright side; and this was the side for the sake of which the incident was treasured by the friends of Jesus. It meant, as St. Paul says, that the wall between Jew and Gentile had been broken down. It meant, as is set forth in the noble argument of the Epistle to the Hebrews, that the system of ceremonies and intermediaries by which under the Old Testament the worshipper might approach God and yet was kept at a distance from Him had been swept away. The heart of God is now fully revealed, and it is a heart of love; and, at the same time, the heart of man, liberated by the sacrifice of Christ from the conscience of sin, as it could never be by the offering of bulls and goats, can joyfully venture into the divine presence and go out and in with the freedom of a child. "Having therefore, brethren, boldness to enter into the holiest by the blood of Jesus, by a new and living way, which He hath consecrated for us, through the veil--that is to say, His flesh--and having a High Priest over the house of God, let us draw near with a true heart in full assurance of faith." [6] II. The second sign was the resurrection of certain of the dead--"The graves were opened, and many bodies of the saints which slept arose and came out of the graves after His resurrection, and went into the holy city and appeared unto many." Whether or not the rending of the veil in the temple was connected with the earthquake, there is no doubt that this second sign was. The graves in Palestine were caves in the rocks, the mouths of which were closed with great stones. Some of these stones were shaken from their places by the earthquake; and the bodies themselves, which lay on shelves or stood upright in niches, may have been disturbed. But in some of them a greater disturbance occurred: besides the external shaking there took place within them a motion of the life-giving breath of God. In the minds of many devout scholars this miracle has excited suspicion on several accounts. They say it is contrary to the teaching of Scripture elsewhere, according to which Christ was the firstfruits of them that slept. If these dead bodies were reanimated at the moment of this earthquake, they, and not He, were the firstfruits. To this it is answered that St. Matthew is careful to note that they came out of their graves "after His resurrection"; so that St. Matthew still agrees with St. Paul in making Christ the first to rise. But, then, it is asked, in what condition were they between their reanimation and their resurrection? The Evangelist appears to state that they rose from death to life at the moment of the earthquake, but did not emerge from the tomb till the third day afterwards, when Christ had risen. Is this credible? or is it an apocryphal marvel, which has been interpolated in the text of St. Matthew? The other Evangelists, while, along with St. Matthew, narrating the rending of the veil, do not touch on this incident at all. The whole representation, it is argued, lacks the sobriety which is characteristic of the authentic miracles of the Gospels and broadly separates them from the ecclesiastical miracles, about which there is generally an air of triviality and grotesqueness. On the other hand, there is no indication in the oldest and best manuscripts of St. Matthew that this is an interpolation; and many of the acutest minds have felt this trait to be thoroughly congruous and suitable to its place. If, they contend, He who had just died on Calvary was what He gave Himself out and we believe Him to be, His death must have excited the profoundest commotion in the kingdoms of the dead. The world of living men and women was insensible to the character of the event which was taking place before its eyes; but the world unseen was agitated as it never had been before and never was to be again. It was not unnatural, but the reverse, that some of the dead, in their excitement and eagerness, should even press back over the boundaries of the other world, in order to be in the world where Christ was. The question where they were or what they were doing between their reanimation and resurrection is a triviality not worth considering. At all events, they rose after their Lord; and was it not appropriate that when, after the forty days, He ascended to heaven, there to be received by rejoicing angels and archangels, He should not only appear in the flesh, but be accompanied by specimens of what His resurrection power was ultimately to do for all believers? If it be asked who the favoured saints were to whom this blessed priority was vouchsafed, we cannot tell. The dust, however, was not far away of many whom the Lord might delight to honour--patriarchs, like Abraham; kings, like David; prophets, like Isaiah. But the true significance of this sign is not dependent on such speculations. Even if it should ever be discovered, as it is not in the least likely to be, that this story was interpolated in St. Matthew, and we should be driven to the conclusion that it was invented by the excited fancy of the primitive Christians, even then we should have to ask what caused them to invent it. And the only possible answer would be, that it was the force of the conviction burning within them that by His death and resurrection Christ had opened the gates of death to all the saints. This was the glorious faith which was begotten by the experiences of those never-to-be-forgotten days, whether the sight of these resurrected saints played any part or not in maturing it; and it is now the faith of the Church and the faith of mankind. This may well be called the rending of another veil. If in the ancient world there was a veil on the face of God, there was a veil likewise on the face of eternity.[7] The home of the soul was hidden from the children of men. They vaguely surmised it, indeed; they could never believe that they were wholly dust. But, apart from Christ, the speculations even of the wisest as to the other world are hardly more correct or certain than might be the speculations of infants in the womb as to the condition of this world.[8] Christ, on the contrary, always spoke of the world invisible with the freedom and confidence of one to whom it was native and well known; and His resurrection and ascension afford the most authentic glimpses into the realm of immortality which the world has ever received. In this sign, indeed, it is with the death and not with the resurrection that this authentication is connected. But the resurrection of Christ is allied in the most intimate manner with His death. It was the public recognition of His righteousness. Since, however, He died not for Himself alone, but as a public person, His mystical body has the same right to resurrection, and in due time it will be made manifest that, He having discharged every claim on their behalf, death has now no right to detain them. III. The first sign was in the physical world; the second was in the underworld of the dead; but the third was in the common world of living men. This was the acknowledgment of Christ by the centurion who superintended His crucifixion. Whether, like the preceding signs, this third one is to be connected with the earthquake is a question. Probably the answer ought to be in the affirmative. The sensation produced by an earthquake is like nothing else in nature; and its first effect on an unsophisticated mind is to create the sense that God is near. Probably, therefore, the earthquake was felt by the centurion to be the divine Amen to the thoughts which had been rising in his mind, and it gave them a speedy and complete delivery in his confession. This confession was, however, the result of his observation of Jesus throughout His whole trial and the subsequent proceedings; and it is an eloquent tribute to our Lord's behaviour. The centurion may have been at the side of Jesus from the arrest to the end. Through those unparalleled hours he had observed the rage and injustice of His enemies; and he had marked how patient, unretaliating, gentle and magnanimous He had been. He had heard Him praying for His crucifiers, comforting the thief on the cross, providing for His mother, communing with God. More and more his interest was excited and his heart stirred, till at last he was standing opposite the cross,[9] drinking in every syllable and devouring every movement; and, when the final prayer was uttered and the earthquake answered it, his rising conviction brimmed over and he could not withhold his testimony. St. Luke makes him say only, "This was a righteous man," while the others report, "This was the Son of God." But St. Luke's may include theirs; because, if the centurion meant to state that the claims of Jesus were just, what were His claims? At Pilate's judgment-seat he had heard it stated that Jesus claimed to be the Son of God, and perhaps he had heard Him make this claim Himself in reply to Pilate's question. This name, along with others like it, had been hurled at Jesus, in his hearing, by those standing round the cross. But what did he mean when he made this acknowledgment? It has been held that all which he, a heathen, could imply was that Jesus was a son of God in the sense in which the Greeks and Romans believed Hercules, Castor and other heroes to be sons of their deities. This may be near the truth; but his soul was moved, his mind was opened; and, once in the way, he could easily proceed further in the knowledge of Christ. Tradition says that his name was Longinus, and that he became bishop of Cappadocia and ultimately died a martyr. Have we not here the rending of a third veil? There is a veil on the face of God which requires to be removed; and there is a veil on the face of eternity which requires to be removed; but the most fatal veil is that which is on the heart of the individual and prevents him from seeing the glory of Christ. It was on the faces of nearly all the multitude that day assembled round the cross. It was on the faces of the poor soldiers gambling within a few feet of the dying Saviour; in their case it was a veil of insensibility. It was on the faces of the ecclesiastics and the mob of Jerusalem; and in their case it was a thick veil of prejudice. The greatest sight ever witnessed on earth was there beside them; but they were stoneblind to it. The glory of Christ is still the greatest sight which anyone can see between the cradle and the grave. And it is now as near everyone of us as it was to the crowd on Calvary. Some see it; for the veil upon their faces is rent; and they are transfixed and transformed by the sight. But others are blinded. How near one may be to Jesus, how much mixed up with His cause, how well informed about His life and doctrine, and yet never see His glory or know Him as a personal Saviour! It is said that people may spend a lifetime in the midst of perfect scenery and yet never awake to its charm; but by comes a painter or poet and drinks the beauty in, till he is intoxicated with it and puts it into a glorious picture or a deathless song. So can some remember a time when Jesus, though in a sense well known, was nothing to them; but at a certain point a veil seemed to rend and an entire change supervened; and ever since then the world is full of Him; His name seems written on the stars and among the flowers; He is their first thought when they wake and their last before they sleep; He is with them in the house and by the way; He is their all in all. This is the most critical rending of the veil; because, when it takes place, the others follow. When we have our eyes opened to see the glory of Christ, we soon know the Father also; and the darkness passes from the face of eternity, because eternity for us is to be forever with the Lord. [1] "May this phenomenon account for the early conversion of so many priests recorded in Acts vi. 7?"--EDERSHEIM. [2] Shakespeare is very fond of describing the portents by which remarkable events are foreshadowed. Thus, _Julius Caesar_, Act I. Scene ii.:-- "O Cicero, I have seen tempests, when the scolding winds Have rived the knotty oaks; and I have seen Th' ambitious ocean swell and rage and foam, To be exalted with the threatening clouds; But never till to-night, never till now Did I go through a tempest dropping fire. A common slave--you know him well by sight-- Held up his left hand, which did flame and burn Like twenty torches joined; and yet his hand, Not sensible of fire, remained unscorched. Besides--I ha' not since put up my sword-- Against the Capitol I met a lion, Who glared upon me and went surly by, Without annoying me. And there were drawn Upon a heap an hundred ghastly women, Transformed with their fear, who swore they saw Men, all in fire, walk up and down the streets. And yesterday the bird of night did sit Even at noonday upon the marketplace, Hooting and shrieking. When these prodigies Do so conjointly meet, let not men say, 'These are their reasons--they are natural,' For I believe they are portentous things Unto the climate that they point upon." See also Act II., Scene ii., and Act V., Scene i. of the same play; _Macbeth_, Act II., Scene ii.; _Hamlet_, Act I., Scene i. Such impressions are not, however, even in modern times, confined to poetry alone. Historical instances will suggest themselves to every reader. [3] Some of the most interesting I have read occur in a brief memoir of the founder of the Bagster Publishing Company issued on the centenary of its opening. [4] _De Oraculorum Defectu_, quoted by Heubner in his commentary, _in loc_. [5] _stenagmos ama thaumasmo_. [6] Heb. x. 19-22. [7] So the ignorance of immortality is expressly called in the beautiful passage, Isa. xxv. 7. [8] Sir Thomas Browne, _Hydrotaphia_, chap. iv.: "A dialogue between two infants in the womb concerning the state of this world might handsomely illustrate our ignorance of the next, where, methinks, we still discourse in Plato's den, and are but embryo philosophers." [9] _Parestekos ex enantias autou_. CHAPTER XXII. THE DEAD CHRIST It was not usual to remove bodies from the cross immediately after their death. They were allowed to hang, exposed to the weather, till they rotted and fell to pieces; or they might be torn by birds or beasts; and at last a fire was perhaps kindled beneath the cross to rid the place of the remains. Such was the Roman custom; but among the Jews there was more scrupulosity. In their law there stood this provision: "If a man have committed a sin worthy of death, and he be put to death, and thou hang him on a tree, his body shall not remain all night upon the tree, but thou shalt in any wise bury him that day (for he that is hanged is accursed of God); that thy land be not defiled which the Lord thy God giveth thee for an inheritance." [1] Whether or not the Jews always tried to get this provision observed in executions carried out in their midst by their Roman masters, we cannot tell; but it was natural that they should do so in reference to executions carried out in the neighbourhood of the holy city and at Passover time. In the present instance there was the additional reason, that the morrow of the execution of Jesus was a high day--it was the Sabbath of the Passover--a kind of double Sabbath, which would have been desecrated by any unclean thing, like an unburied corpse, exposed to view. The Jews were extremely sensitive about such points. At any time they regarded themselves as unclean if they touched a dead body, and they had to go through a process of purgation before their sense of sanctity was restored. But on the occasion of a Passover Sabbath they would have felt it to be a desecration if any dead thing had even met their eyes or rested uncovered on the soil of their city. Therefore their representatives went to the Roman governor and begged that the three crucified men should be put to death by clubbing and their bodies buried before the Sabbath commenced. The suggestion has often been made that, behind this pretended scrupulosity, their real aim was to inflict additional pain and indignity on Jesus. The breaking of the bones of the body, by smashing them with clubs, was a peculiarly horrible form of punishment sometimes inflicted by the Romans.[2] It was nearly as cruel and degrading as crucifixion itself; and it was an independent punishment, not conjoined with crucifixion. But the Jews in this case attempted to get them united, that Jesus, besides being crucified, might, so to speak, die yet another death of the most revolting description. The Evangelist, however, throws no doubt on the motive which they put forward--namely, that the Passover Sabbath might be saved from desecration--and, although their insatiable hatred may have made them suggest clubbing as the mode by which His death should be hastened, we need not question that their scruples were genuine. It is an extraordinary instance of the game of self-deception which the human conscience can play. Here were people fresh from the greatest crime ever committed--their hands still reeking, one might say, with the blood of the Innocent--and their consciences, while utterly untouched with remorse for this crime, are anxious about the observance of the Sabbath and the ceremonial defilement of the soil. It is the most extraordinary illustration which history records of how zeal for what may be called the body of religion may be utterly destitute of any connection with its spirit. It is surely a solemn warning to make sure that every outward religious act is accompanied by the genuine outgoing of the heart to God, and a warning that, if we love not our brother, whom we have seen, neither can we be lovers of God, whom we have not seen. Pilate hearkened to the request of the Jews, and orders were given to the soldiers to act accordingly. Then the ghastly work began. They broke the legs of the malefactor on the one side of Jesus, and then those of the other on the opposite side. The penitent thief was not spared; but what a difference his penitence made! To his companion this was nothing but an additional indignity; to him it was the knocking-off of the fetters, that his spirit might the sooner wing its way to Paradise, where Christ had trysted to meet him. Then came the turn of Jesus. But, when the soldiers looked at Him, they saw that their work was unnecessary: death had been before them; the drooping head and pallid frame were those of a dead man. Only, to make assurance doubly sure, one of them thrust his spear into the body, making a wound so large that Jesus, when He was risen, could invite the doubting Thomas to thrust his hand into it; and, as the weapon was drawn forth again, there came out after it blood and water. St. John, who was on the spot and saw all this taking place, seems to have perceived in the scene an unusual importance; for he adds to his report these words of confirmation, as if he were sealing an official document, "And he that saw it bare record; and his record is true; and he knoweth that he saith true, that ye might believe." Why should he interrupt the flow of his narrative to add these words of assurance? Some have thought that he was moved to do so by a heresy which sprang up in the early Church to the effect that Christ was not really human: His body, it was said, was only a phantom body, and therefore His death was only an apparent death. In opposition to such a notion St. John directs attention to the realistic details, which prove so conclusively that this was a real man and that He died a real death. Of course that ancient heresy has long ceased to trouble; there are none now who deny that Jesus was a man. Yet it is curious how the tendency ever and anon reappears to evaporate the facts of His life. At the present hour there are eminent Christian teachers in Europe who are treating the resurrection of the Lord in very much the same way as these early Docetae treated His death--as a kind of figure of speech, not to be understood too literally. Against such the Church must lift up the crude facts of the resurrection as St. John did those of the death of the Saviour.[3] In our generation teachers of every kind are appealing to Christ and putting Him in the centre of theology; but we must ask them, What Christ? Is it the Christ of the Scriptures: the Christ who in the beginning was with God; who was incarnated; who died for the sins of the world; who was raised from the dead and reigns for evermore? We must not delude ourselves with words: only the Christ of the Scriptures could have brought us the salvation of the Scriptures. What excited the wonder of St. John is supposed by others to have been the fulfilment of two passages of the Old Testament Scripture which he quotes. It appeared to be a matter of mere chance that the soldiers, contrary to the intention of the Jews, refrained from breaking the bones of Jesus; yet a sacred word, of which they knew nothing, written hundreds of years before, had said, "A bone of Him shall not be broken." It seemed the most casual circumstance that the soldier plunged the spear into the side of Jesus, to make sure that He was dead; yet an ancient oracle, of which he knew nothing, had said, "They shall look on Him whom they pierced." Thus, by the overruling providence of God, the soldiers, going with rude unconcern about their work, were unconsciously fulfilling the Scriptures; and those who both saw what they had done and knew the Scriptures recognised the Divine finger pointing out Jesus as the Sent of God. The first of these texts is generally supposed[4] to be taken from the account in Exodus of the institution of the Passover, and originally it refers to the paschal lamb, which was to be eaten whole, the breaking of its bones being forbidden. St. John's idea is that Christ was to be the paschal lamb of the New Dispensation, and that therefore Providence took care that nothing should be done to destroy His resemblance to the type, as would have happened if His bones had been broken. The Passover was the great event of the year in all the generations of Jewish history. It was intended to carry the minds of God's people back to the wonderful scenes of divine grace and power in which their existence as a nation had begun, when God liberated them from their bondage and led them out of Egypt with a mighty hand. The centre of the solemnity was the slaying and eating of the paschal lamb. This reminded them of how in Egypt the blood of this lamb, sprinkled on the lintels and doorposts of their huts, saved them from the visit of the destroying angel, who was passing through the land; and how, at the same time, the flesh of the lamb was eaten by the people, with their loins girt and staves in their hands, and supplied them with strength for their adventurous journey. Thus through all ages it impressed on them two things--that the sins of the past required to be expiated, and that strength had to be obtained from above for the new stage of their history on which at the annual Passover they might be supposed to be entering. In the same way, in the New Dispensation, are our minds ever to revert to the marvellous revelation of the grace and saving power of God in which Christianity originated; and in the very midst is the Lamb slain, who is both the expiation of the sins that are past and the strength requisite for the conflict and the pilgrimage. "If we walk in the light, as He is in the light, we have fellowship one with another, and the blood of Jesus Christ His Son cleanseth us from all sin." The other words of prophecy which appeared to St. John to be fulfilled on this occasion were, "They shall look on Him whom they pierced." They are from a passage in Zechariah, which is so remarkable that it may be quoted in full--"And I will pour out on the house of David and upon the inhabitants of Jerusalem the spirit of grace and of supplications, and they shall look upon Me whom they have pierced, and they shall mourn for Him, as one mourneth for his only son, and shall be in bitterness for Him, as one that is in bitterness for his firstborn." Jehovah speaks figuratively of the opposition shown to Himself and His servants as piercing Him with pain, just as we say of an insult that it cuts to the heart. But in the death of Jesus the figure became a fact: against the sacred person of the Son of God the spear was lifted up, and it was driven home without compunction. Evidently St. John thinks of this rather as the act of the Jewish people than of the Roman soldier. But the prophecy speaks not only of the people piercing God, but of their looking at their own work with shame and tears. At Pentecost this began to be fulfilled; and in every age since there have been members of the Jewish race who have acknowledged their guilt in the transaction. The full acknowledgment, however, still lingers; but the conversion of God's ancient people, when it comes, must begin with this. Indeed, every human being to whom his own true relation to Christ is revealed must make the same acknowledgment. It was the heart not of a few soldiers or of the representatives of a single people, but of the human race, that hardened itself against Him. It was the sin of the world that nailed Him to the tree and shed His blood. Every sinner may therefore feel that he had a hand in it; and it is only when we see our own sin as aiming at the very existence of God in the death of His Son that we comprehend it in all its enormity. There have been many who have found the reason for St. John's wonder in the fact that out of the wounded side there flowed blood and water. From a corpse, when it is pierced--at least, if it has been some time dead--it is not usual for anything to flow. But whether St. John reflected on this or not we cannot tell. What fascinated him was simply the fact that the piercing of the body of the Saviour made it a fountain out of which sprang this double outflow. When the rock in the wilderness was smitten with the rod of Moses, there issued from it a stream which was life to the perishing multitude; but in the double stream coming from the side of Jesus St. John saw something better even than that; because to him the blood symbolized the atonement, and the water the Spirit of Christ; and in these two all our salvation lies.[5] So we sing in the most precious of all our hymns,-- Let the water and the blood From Thy living side which flowed Be of sin the double cure-- Cleanse me from its guilt and power. Although, however, St. John did not perhaps speculate on the reason why this double outflow took place from the wounded side, others have occupied themselves with the question. Some[6] have considered the phenomenon altogether abnormal, and endeavoured to explain it from the peculiarity of our Lord's humanity. Though He died. He was not, like other men, to see corruption; His body was to escape in a few hours, transfigured and glorious, from the grasp of death. This transforming process, which issued in His resurrection, began as soon as He was dead; and the spear-thrust, breaking in on it, so to speak, revealed something altogether unique in the constitution of His body. Others, keeping within the limits of ascertained fact, have given a totally different yet a peculiarly interesting explanation. They have directed attention to the suddenness of Christ's death. It was usual for crucified persons to linger for days; but He did not survive more than six hours. Yet immediately before dying He again and again cried with a loud voice, as if His bodily force were by no means exhausted. Suddenly, however, with a loud cry His life terminated. To what could this be due? It is said that sometimes, under the pressure of intense mental and physical agony, the heart bursts; there is a shriek, and of course death is instantaneous. We speak of people dying of a broken heart--using the phrase only figuratively--but sometimes it can be used literally: the heart is actually ruptured with grief. Now, it is said that, when this takes place, the blood contained in the heart is poured into a sac by which it is surrounded; and there it separates into two substances--a clotty substance of the colour of blood and a pure, colourless substance like water. And, if the sac, when in this condition, were pierced by a spear or any other instrument, there would flow out a large quantity of both substances, which would by an unscientific spectator be described as blood and water. It was by an English medical man that this theory was first propounded fifty years ago,[7] and it has been adopted by other medical men, equally famous for their scientific eminence and Christian character, such as the late Professor Begbie and Sir James Simpson. The latter well brings out the point and the pathos of this view of the Saviour's death in these words:[8] "It has always appeared--to my medical mind at least--that this view of the mode by which death was produced in the human body of Christ intensifies all our thoughts and ideas regarding the immensity of the sacrifice which He made for our sinful race upon the cross. Nothing can be more striking and startling than the passiveness with which, for our sakes, God as man submitted His incarnate body to the horrors and tortures of the crucifixion. But our wonderment at the stupendous sacrifice increases when we reflect that, whilst thus enduring for our sins the most cruel and agonising form of corporeal death, He was ultimately slain, not by the effects of the anguish of His corporeal frame, but by the effects of the mightier anguish of His mind; the fleshly walls of His heart--like the veil, as it were, in the temple of His body--becoming rent and riven, as for us He poured out His soul unto death--the travail of His soul in that awful hour thus standing out as unspeakably more bitter and dreadful than even the travail of His body." In this chapter we have been moving somewhat in the region of speculation and conjecture, and we have not rigidly ascertained what is logically tenable and what is not. This is a place of mystery, where dim yet imposing meanings peep out on us in whatever direction we turn. We have called the scene the Dead Christ. But who does not see that the dead Christ is so interesting and wonderful because He is also the living Christ? He lives; He is here; He is with us now. Yet the converse is also true--that the living Christ is to us so wonderful and adorable because He was dead. The fact that He is alive inspires us with strength and hope; but it is by the memory of His death that He is commended to the trust of our burdened consciences and the love of our sympathetic hearts. [1] Deut. xxi. 22, 23. [2] "_Crurifragium_, as it was called, consisted in striking the legs of the sufferer with a heavy mallet"--FARRAR, _Life of Christ_, ii., 423. [3] The words that follow in this paragraph are a reminiscence of a singularly eloquent and powerful passage in a speech of Dr. Maclaren, of Manchester, delivered last year in Edinburgh. [4] Weiss, however, supposes Psalm xxxiv. 20 to be the reference. [5] On the symbolism of this phenomenon see the excursus in Westcott's _Gospel of St. John_, pp. 284-86. [6] _E.g._, Lange, characteristically. [7] Stroud in his treatise _On the Physical Cause of the Death of Christ_. [8] Given in Hanna's _The Last Day of our Lord's Passion_. CHAPTER XXIII. THE BURIAL There is a hard and shallow philosophy which regards it as a matter of complete indifference what becomes of the body after the soul has left it and affects contempt of all funeral ceremonies. But the instincts of mankind are wiser. In ancient times it was considered one of the worst of misfortunes to miss decent burial; and, although this sentiment was mixed with superstition, there was beneath it a healthy instinct. There is a dignity of the body as well as of the soul, especially when it is a temple of the Holy Ghost; and there is a majesty about death which cannot be ignored without loss to the living.[1] It is with a sense of pain and humiliation, as if a dishonour were being done to human nature, that we see a funeral at which everything betokens hurry, shabbiness and slovenliness. On the contrary, the satisfaction is not morbid with which we see a funeral conducted with solemnity and chaste pomp. And, when someone falls whose career has been one of extraordinary achievement and beneficence, and who has become On fortune's crowning slope The pillar of a nation's hope, The centre of a world's desire, then, as the remains are borne amidst an empire's lamentation to rest "under the cross of gold that shines over river and city," and the tolling bells and echoing cannon sound over hushed London, and the silent masses line the streets, and the learned and the noble stand uncovered around the open grave, it would be a diseased and churlish mind which did not feel the spell of the pageant. Thus ought the great, the wise and the good to be buried. How then was He buried whom all now agree to call the Greatest, the Wisest and the Best? I. The three corpses were taken down towards evening, before the Jewish Sabbath set in, which commenced at sunset. Probably the two robbers were buried on the spot, crosses and all, or they were hurriedly carried off to some obscure and accursed ditch, where the remains of criminals were wont to be unceremoniously thrust underground. This would have been the fate of Jesus too, had not an unexpected hand interposed. It was the humane custom of the Romans to give the corpses of criminals to their friends, if they chose to ask for them; and a claimant appeared for the body of Jesus, to whom Pilate was by no means loath to grant it. This is the first time that Joseph of Arimathea appears on the stage of the gospel history; and of his previous life very little is known. Even the town from which he derives his appellation is not known with certainty. The fact that he owned a garden and burying-place in the environs of Jerusalem does not necessarily indicate that he was a resident there; for pious Jews had all a desire to be buried in the precincts of the sacred city; and, indeed, the whole neighbourhood is still honeycombed with tombs. Joseph was a rich man; and this may have availed him in his application to Pilate. Those who possess wealth or social position or distinguished talents can serve Christ in ways which are not accessible to His humbler followers. Only, before such gifts can be acceptable to Him, those to whom they belong must count them but loss and dung for His sake. Joseph was a councillor. It has been conjectured that the council of which he was a member was that of Arimathea; but the observation that he "had not consented to the counsel and deed of them," which obviously refers to the Sanhedrim, makes it more than probable that it was of this august body he was a member. No doubt he absented himself deliberately from the meeting at which Jesus was condemned, knowing well beforehand that the proceedings would be utterly painful and revolting to his feelings. For "he was a good man and a just." We are, however, told more about him: "he waited for the kingdom of God." This is a phrase applied elsewhere also in the New Testament to the devout in Palestine at this period; and it designates in a striking way the peculiarity of their piety. The age was spiritually dead. Religion was represented by the high-and-dry formalism of the Pharisees on the one hand and the cold and worldly scepticism of the Sadducees on the other. In the synagogues the people asked for bread and were offered a stone. The scribes, instead of letting the pure river of Bible truth flow over the land, choked up its course with the sand of their soulless commentary. Yet there are good people even in the worst of times. There were truly pious souls sprinkled up and down Palestine. They were like lights shining here and there, at great intervals, in the darkness. They could not but feel that they were strangers and foreigners in their own age and country, and they lived in the past and the future. The prophets, on whose words they nourished their souls, foretold a good time coming, when on those who sat in darkness there would burst a great light. For this better time, then, they were waiting. They were waiting to hear the voice of prophecy echoing once more through the land and waking the population from its spiritual slumber. They were waiting, above all, for the Messiah, if they might dare to hope that He would come in their days. Such were the souls among which both John and Jesus found their auditors. All such must have welcomed the voices of the Baptist and his Successor as at least those of prophets who were striving earnestly to deal with the evils of the time. But whether Jesus was He that should come or whether they should look for another, some of them stood in doubt. Among these perhaps was Joseph. He was, it is said, a disciple of Jesus, but secretly, for fear of the Jews. He had faith, but not faith enough to confess Christ and take the consequences. Even during the trial of Jesus he satisfied his conscience by being absent from the meeting of the Sanhedrim, instead of standing up in his place and avowing his convictions. Such he had been up to this point. But now in the face of danger he identified himself with Jesus. It is interesting to note what it was that brought him to decision. It was the excess of wickedness in his fellow-councillors, who at length went to a stage of violence and injustice which allowed him to hesitate no longer. Complete religious decision is sometimes brought about in this way. Thus, for example, one who has been halting between two opinions, or, at all events, has never had courage enough openly to confess his convictions, may be some day among his fellow-workmen or shopmen, when religion comes up as a topic of conversation and is received with ridicule, Christ's people being sneered at, His doctrines denied, and He Himself blasphemed. But at last it goes too far the silent, half-convinced disciple can stand it no longer; he breaks out in indignant protest and stands confessed as a Christian. In some such way as this must the change of sentiment have taken place in the mind of Joseph. He had to defy the entire Sanhedrim; he was putting himself in imminent peril; but he could hold in no longer; and, casting fear behind his back, he went in "boldly" to Pilate and begged the body of Jesus. II. Boldness in confessing Christ is apt to have two results. On the one hand, it cows adversaries. It is not said that Joseph got himself into trouble by his action on this occasion, or that the Sanhedrim immediately commenced a persecution against him. They were, indeed, in a state of extreme excitement, and they were seventy to one. But sometimes a single bold man can quell much more numerous opposition than even this. It is certain that the consciences of many of them were ill at ease, and they were by no means prepared to challenge to argument on the merits of the case a quiet and resolute man with the elevation of whose character they were all acquainted. It is one of the great advantages of those who stand up for Christ that they have the consciences even of their adversaries on their side. The other effect of boldness in confessing Christ is that it brings out confession from others who have not had in their own breast enough of fire to make them act, but are heated up to the necessary temperature by example. It seems clear that in this way the example of Joseph evoked the loyalty of Nicodemus. Nicodemus was of the same rank as Joseph, being a member of the Sanhedrim; and he was a secret disciple. This is not the first time that he appears on the stage of the Gospel history. At the very commencement of the career of Jesus he had been attracted to Him and had gone so far as to seek a private interview; the account of which is one of the most precious component parts of the Gospel and has made tens of thousands not only believers in Christ but witnesses for Him. It had not, however, as much effect on the man to whom it was originally vouchsafed, though it ought to have had. Nicodemus ought to have been one of the earliest followers of the Lord; and his position would have brought weight to the apostolic circle. But he hesitated and remained a secret disciple. On one occasion, indeed, he spoke out: once, when something intolerably unjust was said against Jesus in the Sanhedrim, he interposed the question, "Doth our law judge any man before it hear him and know what he doeth?" But with the angry answer, "Art thou also of Galilee?" he was shouted down; and he held his peace. Doubtless, like Joseph, he absented himself from the meeting of the Sanhedrim at which Jesus was condemned; but the injustice done was so flagrant that he was ready to make a public protest against it. He might not, however, have had the courage of his convictions, had not Joseph shown him the way. Yet this must be praised in Nicodemus, that he was a growing and improving man. Though he hung back for a time, he came forward at last; and better late than never. It was a happy hour for him when he was brought into contact with Joseph. There are many circles of friends where all are internally convinced and leaning to the right side, and, if only one would come boldly out, the others would willingly follow. The hands of Joseph and Nicodemus met and clasped each other round the body of their Redeemer. There is no love, or friendship, or fellowship like that of those who are united to one another through their connection with Him. III. Art has described the burial of our Lord with great fulness of detail, drawing largely on the imagination. It has divided it into several scenes.[2] There is, first, the Descent from the Cross, in which, besides Joseph and Nicodemus, St. John at least, and sometimes other men, are represented as extracting the nails and lowering the body; while beneath the cross the holy women, among whom the Virgin Mary and Mary Magdalene are prominent, receive the precious burden. Many readers will recall the most famous of such pictures, that by Rubens in the Cathedral at Antwerp--an extremely impressive but too sensuous representation of the scene of busy affection--wherein the corpse is being let down by means of a great white sheet into the hands of the women, who receive it tenderly, one foot resting on the shoulder of the Magdalene. Then there is what is called the Pieta, or the mourning of the women over the dead body. In this scene the holy mother usually holds the head of her Son in her lap, while the Magdalene clasps His feet and others clasp His hands. Next ensues the Procession to the Sepulchre; and, last of all, there is the Entombment, which is represented in a great variety of forms. On these scenes the great painters have lavished all the resources of art; but the narrative of the Gospels is brief and unpictorial. The Virgin is not even mentioned; and, although others of the holy women are said to have been there, it is not suggested that they helped in the labour of burial, but only that they followed and marked where He was laid. Joseph and Nicodemus are the prominent actors, though it is reasonable to suppose that they were assisted by their servants; and the soldiers may have lent a hand in disentangling the body. It was in a new sepulchre, which Joseph had had hewn out of the rock for himself, in order that after death he might lie in the sacred shadow of the city of God, that the Lord was laid. No corpse had ever been placed in it before. This was a great gift to give to an excommunicated and crucified man; and it was a most appropriate one; for it was meet that the pure and stainless One, who had come to make all things new and, though dead, was not to see corruption, should rest in an undefiled sepulchre. Similarly appropriate and suggestive was the new linen cloth, which Joseph bought expressly for the purpose of enwinding the body. Nor was Nicodemus behind in affection and sacrifice. He brought "a mixture of myrrh and aloes, about an hundred pound weight." This may appear an enormous quantity, but custom was very lavish in such gifts; at the funeral of Herod the Great, for example, the spices were carried by five hundred bearers. The tomb was in a garden--another touch of appropriateness and beauty. The spot does not seem to have been far from the place of execution; but whether it was as near as it is represented to have been in the traditional site may well be doubted. The Church of the Holy Sepulchre includes within its precincts both the Lord's tomb and the hole in the rock in which stood His cross; and the two are only thirty yards apart.[3] But it is highly questionable whether the identification of either is possible. Still, this may be said to be the most famous bit of the entire surface of the globe. Christendom accepted the tradition, which dates from the time of Constantine, and since then pilgrims have flocked to the spot from every land. It was for the possession of this shrine that the Crusades were undertaken, and at the present day the Churches of Christendom fight for a footing in it. We may have no sympathy with the practice of pilgrimages and little interest in the identification of holy places; but the holy sepulchre cannot but attract the believing heart. It was a practice of the piety of former days to meditate among the tombs. The piety of the present day inclines to more cheerful and, let us hope, not less healthy exercises. But every man with any depth of nature must linger sometimes beside the graves of his loved ones; every man of any seriousness must think sometimes of his own grave. And in such moments what can be so helpful as to pilgrim in spirit to the tomb of Him who said, "I am the resurrection and the life"? In comparison with the great ones of the earth Jesus had but a humble funeral; yet in the character of those who did Him the last honours it could not have been surpassed; and it was rich in love, which can well take the place of a great deal of ceremony. So at last, stretched out in the new tomb, wherein man had never lain, enwrapped in an aromatic bed of spices and breathed round by the fragrance of flowers, with the white linen round Him and the napkin which hid the wounds of the thorns about His brow, while the great stone which formed the door stood between Him and the world, He lay down to rest. It was evening, and the Sabbath drew on; and the Sabbath of His life had come. His work was completed; persecution and hatred could not reach Him any more; He was where the wicked cease from troubling and the weary are at rest. [1] The most beautiful thing ever said about the bodies of the dead is in the Shorter Catechism: "And their bodies, being still united to Christ, do rest in their graves till the resurrection." [2] On these and similar details see _The Life of our Lord as exemplified in Works of Art_, by Mrs. Jameson (completed by Lady Eastlake). [3] Many interesting details in Ross's _Cradle of Christianity_. 
25826	----	Transcriber's Note: The Greek words in this e-book have been transliterated according to Project Gutenberg's Greek How-To. Such words are indicated with surrounding underscores. There are a couple of instances of author-transliterated Greek words. Those words are bracketed and not italicized. Underscores are also used to indicate italicization of words, but in this e-book such words are always English words. THE GOSPEL OF THE HEREAFTER by J. PATERSON-SMYTH, B.D., LL.D., LITT. D., D.C.L, _Rector of St. Georges, Montreal, Late Professor of Pastoral Theology, University of Dublin_ _Author of "How We Got Our Bible," "The Old Documents and the New Bible," etc., etc., etc._ New York ---- Chicago ---- Toronto Fleming H. Revell Company London And Edinburgh Copyright, 1910, by Fleming H. Revell Company New York: 158 Fifth Avenue Chicago: 17 North Wabash Ave. London: 21 Paternoster Square Edinburgh: 75 Princes Street _To My Wife_ Contents PART I THE NEAR HEREAFTER I. "I" II. THE THREE STAGES OF EXISTENCE III. WHAT THE BIBLE SAYS ABOUT THE NEAR HEREAFTER IV. WHAT THE BIBLE AND THE CHURCH SAY ABOUT THE NEAR HEREAFTER V. THE CRISIS OF DEATH VI. "I" "MYSELF" AFTER DEATH VII. RECOGNITION VIII. THE COMMUNION OF SAINTS IX. GROWTH AND PURIFICATION X. PROBATION IN THIS LIFE XI. MINISTRY IN THE UNSEEN LIFE XII. CONCLUSION PART II THE FAR HEREAFTER I. THE JUDGMENT II. HELL III. HEAVEN Publishers' Note This tenth American (and sixteenth British) edition has been carefully revised and where necessary rewritten by the author. We call special attention to an interesting note on page 108. This year a Norwegian edition has been published, translated by Judge Hambro of the Supreme Court of Norway assisted by the Bishops of Christiania and Trondheim. Also request has been received for permission to translate the book for readers in Holland. But more interesting is a letter from a Brahmin gentleman in India asking permission to produce at his own cost an edition for his people and dedicated on the front page, "TO MY SON, SEREM ALI, WHO IS NOW IN THE NEAR HEREAFTER." Foreword The Lord is risen, but the people do not know it. There is no death, but the people do not believe it. Human life is the most exciting romantic adventure in the Universe, going on stage after stage till we are older than Methuselah and then on again through the infinite eternities--and yet men pass into the Unseen as stupidly as the caterpillar on the cabbage-leaf, without curiosity or joy or wonder or excitement at the boundless career ahead. Instead of the thrill of coming adventure we have the dull grey monotony of aged lives drawing near the close, and the horror of this war is doubled and the torture of wife or mother as the beloved one crosses the barrier. What is the matter with us, Christian people? Do we not know? Or have we lost our beliefs? or has imagination grown dulled by too frequent repetition of God's good news? * * * * * It was so different in early days when the world was younger, when Christ's revelation was fresh. Look at St. John, four-score years and ten, like an eager boy looking into the Great Adventure: "Beloved, now are we the sons of God, and IT DOTH NOT YET APPEAR WHAT WE SHALL BE."[1] What we shall be! What we shall be! Is not that the chief delight of being young? Guessing and hoping and wondering what we shall be. The dreariest thing in life is dulness--monotony. The brightest thing in life is outlook--vision. And God has given us that. Like St. John we too can stand on the rim of the world and look out over the wall. * * * * * Life is full of latent possibilities--of outlook, of romance, of exciting futures. God has made it so, if we would only see it. God's world of nature has its continuous progress, its ever new and fascinating stages. God's caterpillars in their next stage are going to be soaring butterflies--God's acorns are to become mighty oaks--God's dry little seeds in the granary to-day will in autumn be alive in the waving harvests. God's world of nature is full of romantic possibilities. And God's world of men is infinitely more so, and one of life's delights is to know it and look forward to it guessing what we shall be. Outlook. Vision. That is what gives zest to life. That is what we need to make life bright and beautiful. * * * * * I see a group of small boys sitting at their play, and their eyes are bright looking into the future. They are going to be soldiers, and sailors, and circus riders, and travelers, and all sorts of things. Because they are boys with the enthusiasms of boyhood, they may be anything. All the possibilities of boyhood belong to them. It doth not yet appear what they shall be, but it is delightful to look forward and speculate about it. * * * * * I see them again a dozen years later. They are starting in life, just left college, young soldiers and lawyers and curates and business men--still with their visions and dreams of the future. It doth not yet appear what they shall be, but because they are young men, all that belongs to young manhood lies before them, as they look forward in their day-dreams. What countries they shall live in and what girl they shall marry, and what positions and what work, and what excitements, and what pleasure lie before them. Ah, it is delightful to be young, realizing the possibilities in front--dreaming of what we shall be. * * * * * I see a crowd of older people, men and women dull, uninterested. "We are no longer young," they say, "we are middle-aged or elderly. And we have ceased looking forward. We have lost the vision. We have not become as great as we expected, or as good as we expected. We are fairly comfortable. We have not much to complain of. But life is a bit dull. The path is a bit monotonous now. We have traversed most of it. We can see to the end. There are no more romantic possibilities to make life exciting, no more visions of 'what we shall be.'" * * * * * Don't believe it! Not a word of it. The visions are there all right. Look out over the wall. This life of yours is only one of the stages in your career, and not the first stage, either. The first came to you, silent, unconscious, "where the bones do grow in the womb of her that is with child." There you grew and developed for the next move forward. One day came the crisis of birth and you passed into the second stage, the training stage for life and for God. Then through a new crisis you pass on again to new adventures. For God has revealed that what you call death, the end of this career, is but birth into a new and more wondrous career which again passes you forward into still nobler adventures, and that again, perhaps--who knows? Who shall fix the limit? * * * * * Nay, you are not elderly. You are not middle-aged. These are but comparative terms. A house-fly is elderly in twenty-four hours. An oak-tree is young after a hundred years. And you, children of eternity with ages and millenniums before you--you are not even one year old babies in the light of your great future. Now do you see why the old apostle of Ephesus did not feel aged or elderly--why he looked out like an eager boy into the adventure before him? "Beloved, now are we the sons of God but we don't know yet what we shall be." Aye, we don't know yet. No more than did the small boys laughing in their play and going to be soldiers and sailors and wonderful people. We don't know yet. But it is all before us. And it is all going to be good because it is in the Father's presence. So I bid you do what I sometimes do myself, look out into the void and guess like the children what you shall be when you are older than Methuselah. Shake off the dulness and monotony from your life. Don't talk as if old or middle-aged any more. Be children again in the presence of the Father, and with happy child hearts keep guessing what you shall be. * * * * * I see a woman with the deep pain in her eyes, one of the many mothers whom I have met in these terrible four years.... They were afraid to tell her when the War Office telegram came.... He had crept out in the night to bring in a wounded chum, and the German sniper got him. At first she could not believe it. It must be some mistake,--some one of similar name. But the days passed on. And the light died in her eyes and she became suddenly old. Her prayers ceased. God had disappointed her. There was nothing left to pray for now. Nothing to be ambitious for any more. Her boy was dead--buried in a shallow grave in France with a little wooden cross at his head. And he was only twenty-two! * * * * * The awful waste of it! All her loving thought over his childhood--all her care, her anxiety, her efforts, her prayers that God would make him a good and noble man. All her hope and pride in the high promise of his boyhood. He was dead. All that he might have been and done in the world was lost. Her life was forever desolate. And God had let it happen! Kindly friends came to comfort and sympathise. But it was of little use. They had not lost their boy. They could not understand. They bade her be proud that he had died in a noble cause--that he had died to save another. They told her that time would bring a blessed easing to her pain. They told her she must bow to God's mysterious will. Ah! what is the use of it? How can any outsider intermeddle in the pain of a mother whose boy has just been killed? Not all the talking since Adam Can make death to be other than death. * * * * * God help us all if there were no better comfort for a tortured world in this hour of its bitterest need--to "make death to be other than death." * * * * * She was a brave woman. She faced the issue clearly. She talked with wise friends. She came back to her prayers. She recalled and relearned the teaching of her Bible and her church which had lain hazily in memory till her need arose. And gradually God's blessed comfort came to her "as to one whom his mother comforteth." Slowly peace came to her heart, and in spite of her pain life became worth living again.... He was a good boy. He loved his God. He loved his mother. He had his faults, but she could trust Christ with them. She had had high ambitions for him. Her ambitions came back. She learned to think of him in the wondrous new adventure, living a full conscious life, thinking and remembering, growing and becoming fitted for the eternal Heaven that is still in front. She believed that the high promise of his boyhood might be fulfilled after all, and that she might one day see it. Life is still very desolate without him; but she believes that he lives and knows, that he is growing and going on--that he remembers her and loves her as never before, that he is waiting for her, perhaps watching over her as in his days on earth, even though he cannot write home. And trustfully, gratefully she remembers him in her prayers. She thinks that the Heavenly Father is not likely to forget what a mother says to Him about her son. * * * * * This book is a poor, imperfect attempt to put together some of the teachings of our holy religion, to help a troubled world, in this day of its necessity, "to look out over the wall." [1] John iii. 2. PART I The Near Hereafter CHAPTER I "I" The title of this chapter is a very short one. It consists of but a single word, and that the shortest word in the whole English language. And though it is the shortest word, yet it is the most wonderful and mysterious word. Though it is a word that every one of us has on his lips every moment of the day, yet no one who reads this book--no one in the whole world--has ever been able to understand what it means. Just the letter "I."--All day long, from morning till night, we are using it:--I did this. I mean to do that. I ought. I shall. I will. I think. I wish. I love. I hate. I remember. I forget. And so on and on--ever ringing the changes on this little word in all its cases "I" and "my" and "mine" and "me." I want to set you thinking. Who or what is this "I," this "me"? Perhaps you will say, "Oh, there is nothing mysterious about it--I know very well what I mean by it. 'I' means myself." But what do I mean by Myself? Of course there is a rough work-day meaning in which it means my whole being as I stand--clothes, body, brains, thoughts, feelings, general appearance, everything. But every thinking man knows that this is not the real "I," that when he says I can, I do, I will, I ought, I remember, the "I" means to him something much deeper and more mysterious than that. Ask yourself, each one, what do you mean by "I"? § 1 IS IT MY BODY? Nay, surely not. I know that my body is only my outward garment woven by "me" out of certain chemical substances. In a scientific museum I can stand before a glass case and see neatly labelled the exact portions of lime and silica and iron and water and other elements which compose my body. I know that this body is continually changing its substance like the rainbow in the sky, like the eddy round a stone in the river. The body I have to-day is no more the body of last year than the fire on my hearth to-night is the fire that was there this morning. I have had a dozen different bodies since I was born, but I am the same still. Every thinking man knows that the "I," the real self, stands behind the body looking out through the windows of the eyes, receiving messages through the portals of the ears. It rules the body, it possesses the body. It says, "I have a body." "This body is a thing belonging to me." As you watch the changing expression in the face of your friend, as you see his eyes flashing in anger, or softening in affectionate sympathy, do you not feel that all you see is but the outward casing, that the real self of your friend is a something dwelling within? I hope I am not puzzling you. What I want to do is to introduce you to your own self, to make you really acquainted with that mysterious being in his first stage of existence here and then to follow him out into the great adventure of the Hereafter. § 2 Let us go on. What is this I, this self? IS IT MY BRAIN? Physiologists tell us wonderful things of that brain; how its size and shape, and the amount of gray matter modify my character; how it excites itself when I am thinking; how it has different departments for different functions; how it rules and directs everything I do. And men impressed by these wonders have sometimes asserted that there is nothing more to be found. It is the brain which originates all, thought is only certain activities of the brain--memory is only impressions on the substance of the brain--when the brain decays there is no self remaining. What I call "I" is merely a function of my brain. But immediately the question arises, Which brain? The particles of my brain are always changing. I have had a dozen different brains in my lifetime, with not a particle remaining the same. Which of these brains is it that "I" am only a function of? And how does it happen that I remember what I thought and did and said with the old vanished brains of twenty and thirty years ago? Memory insists that I am still the same "I" in spite of all those changes of brain. If memory be but a series of impressions registered on the brain these could no more survive the dissolution of the brain than impressions on wax could survive the melting of the wax. Surely my memory, my irresistible conviction of personal identity with my past makes it abundantly clear that "I" am a mysterious unchanging spiritual being behind this ever changing brain. And that is what the best modern science asserts--that the brain is but my instrument. If we compare it to a violin then "I" am the unseen violin player behind it. The musician cannot produce violin music without a violin, but also the violin cannot produce a musical note, much less take part in a complex symphony without the musician behind it. If the strings of the violin be injured, or if they be smeared with grease, the result is discords and crazy sounds. If the brain be physically injured or disordered the result is what we call mental derangement. To say, then, that the brain is the _seat_ of thought is not at all to say that it is the _source_ of thought. Everything involved in my conscious personality is _related_ to the brain, but it is not _originated_ by the brain. The mysterious spiritual "I" is behind the brain, using the brain--nay further--actually educating and fitting the brain for its work. The brain of a little child with its plastic gray matter is smooth and unformed. It is the "I" behind that is steadily creasing and moulding and training it for its purpose. I don't know of anything more impressive than the study of the human brain in its activities, and how "I" am continually changing and modifying and educating my brain. You feel sometimes as if you could almost lay hands on that mysterious spiritual being that is behind it, like a spider in his web--feeling and interpreting every quiver of it, sending messages out into the world by means of it. But he always eludes you. You have no instrument that can touch him. You only know that he is there, enshrouded in mystery, a supernatural being not only using the brain but educating it for use. The brain itself has no knowledge or thought, and no power of itself to originate knowledge or thought. The brain of a baboon differs very little from the brain of a man. The difference is in the being who is behind it. I read lately the statement of a great scientist: "As far as I can see, if the soul of a man could get behind the brain of an ape he could probably use it almost as well as his own." I have never known a really thoughtful student of science satisfied with the foolish notion that the brain is what thinks and remembers and wills. He looks upon a human brain, on the dissecting table, a mere mass of cells and nerve centres suffused with blood, and he thinks of the glorious poems and the mighty intellectual efforts and the noble thoughts of God and Righteousness, and perforce he laughs at the thought that that poor bleeding thing originated them. Something within him indignantly replies: "Nay, 'I' am not the brain. I possess it. I use it. It is mine, but it is not me!" § 3 We have not yet gone deep enough to discover this "I." It is hardly necessary to ask the next question which some foolish people are speculating about to-day. Am I merely the TRAIN OF THOUGHTS AND FEELINGS AND EMOTIONS? Am "I" but like an Eolian harp, played on by the wind of sensations from without? Surely not. This mysterious "I" is constantly and persistently claiming to be a real conscious person behind all these--greater than all these--possessing all these. Listen to the voice down deep in your consciousness--COGITO, ERGO SUM. "I" think--therefore "I" exist. I am not the thoughts and feelings and emotions--I am greater than them all. I am the possessor of them all. They are mine. They are not Me. They are only passing phases of my being. They are always changing. Everything around is changing. I remain the same being always. Nothing else in the universe remains the same being--except God. God and I. God and these selves that are in every one of us. I cannot escape that conviction that "I" am the permanent being behind all the changes. No human vision can see me. No surgeon's knife can detect me. But I am there, behind everything. The particles of my body, of brain and nerves and heart are constantly being changed--every few years they are completely renewed. I have had a dozen new bodies, a dozen new sets of brains and heart since I was born--I am always wearing them out. I change them when they are worn out and throw them aside like old clothes. My thoughts and feelings are ever changing, like the ripples on the sea. But I am absolutely certain that "I" am still there--that I am the same--just as God is the same. The same "I" that played as a little child--the same "I" that lived and desired and thought and felt and worked and sinned years and years ago. Not a particle remains of the brain, or nerves, or tongue, or eyes, or hands, or feet, with which I did a good or evil deed twenty years since--but it is impossible for me to doubt that it was "I" who did it, that I to-day deserve the praise or blame which is due to it. Every man on earth, when he thinks about it, has this conviction of himself as an "I"--as a person separate from all other persons, as a self separate from all other selves, as remaining always the same being, whatever changes may take place around him. That is what constitutes man--a self conscious of itself. As far as we can discover, the lower animals have no such idea. Children, at first, have not. Did you ever notice how a little child never says "I" till he is about three years old? He always speaks in the third person. It is always "Baby does this," "Baby likes that," until the Divine revelation of his personality gradually grows and he recognizes himself as a person. Then, without any teaching on your part, the child, of his own accord, will begin to say "I." § 4 Oh, who or what is this awful, mysterious "I" that dwells somewhere in the centre of my being, and rules and possesses and is responsible for everything? What is this self, in each of you, that is hidden behind your faces as behind a mask--that is looking out through your eyes, and receiving, through your ears, the thoughts that others are trying to express for you? Can the surgeon's knife find any trace of it? Is it possible to destroy it? Is it possible to get away from it? It has survived the putting away of every part of the body a dozen times over. Will it survive the final putting away of the whole body at death? Will it survive everything? Shall "I" be "I," the same identical person through all the ages of eternity? § 5 Look in again upon this "I" within you and answer this question. Why does it assert so positively that it is impossible to doubt it; "I ought to do certain things, I ought not to do certain other things"? All over the earth this day--from the St. Lawrence to the Ganges, from the North Pole to the South--there is no man outside of a lunatic asylum without that conviction. No race, not even the lowest, has been found without it. Where did that conviction come from? From the Bible, do you say? From the teachings of Christ? Nay, surely not. Long before the Bible, long before the incarnation of Christ, the old pagan had the thought clear and distinct, though not by any means so clear and distinct as Christianity has made it. Did you ever think of the mystery of this authoritative utterance of the self within you: "_I ought_"? In the very lowest savages it asserts this. St. Paul calls this sense of "ought"--the law of God written in our hearts (Rom. ii. 15). St. John calls it the light of Christ in us, "the light which lighteth every man coming into the world" (St. John i. 9). Longfellow sings of it in "Hiawatha": That in even savage bosoms There are longings, yearnings, strivings For the good they comprehend not; That the feeble hands and helpless, Groping blindly in the darkness, Touch God's right hand in the darkness. Even in the heart of the thief or the murderer it insists: I ought to do this, I ought not to do that, and when he disobeys this mysterious law within him he is compelled to drag himself up for judgment and fierce remorse for wrong that no one else knows of, that no one else can punish him for. What do you think of that mysterious fact about this Conscious Personality within you? Does it not look as if it belongs to God, that every soul is stamped with God's image and superscription, as every coin of King George is stamped in the mint with the image and superscription of the King? § 6 And this suggests a further question. Why is there in us this sense of imperfection, of incompleteness--of ideals always away in the front that we can never even approximately reach on earth? Look at this conscience which we have just been thinking about. It is always holding high above us an ideal of perfect goodness and insisting that we must strive after it. But we can never get even near it on earth. The very best man at the close of life sees his ideal still high above him and feels how much better he might be and ought to be and then he dies feeling the incompleteness of this life. Does not this unfinished life thus broken off, with its aim still far in the future, demand something further? The great German philosopher Kant founded on this fact his famous argument for Immortality. Or look at our efforts after knowledge. It takes nearly all this life to fit the student for his search after truth, and when he is just ready and the great ocean of truth lies before him, Death comes. Oh, how incomplete and unfinished his life seems! Just the scaffolding put up for his work, just the tools got into good order. Then he dies. "For half a century," said Victor Hugo, "I have been writing my thoughts in prose and verse, history, philosophy, drama, romance, tradition, satire, ode, song. But I feel that I have not said a thousandth part of what is in me. When I go down to the grave I shall have finished my day's work." And this thought of incompleteness compels in him the hope, "another day will begin next morning." Was Victor Hugo right? Was the old pagan philosopher right? "You may catch my body," said Socrates, "but no man can catch me, myself, to bury me." Victor Hugo did not believe in the Christian Bible. Socrates had no revelation from God, except the revelation of this self within him. You have the revelation of Christ as well. What do you think of the question? When the dust shall return to the earth as it was, shall the spirit return to God who gave it? When brain and heart and nerves are destroyed, when the sun is old and the stars grow cold, and all that you ever saw is swept away into nothingness, will this mysterious, lonely self remain, to say "I" and "my" and "mine" and "me," through all the ages of Eternity? § 7 Now, I put a closer question still. Is not this mysterious "I" behind the brain the being that God is especially concerned with? What He sometimes calls your soul.[1] The ceiling of the Sistine chapel at Rome has a fine painting by Michael Angelo from the text, "Man became a living soul." It represents the Supreme Spirit floating in the ether and touching with His finger the body of Adam. As He touches it an electric spark flashes into the body and Adam becomes a living soul. Is not this the centre of the awful mystery that I call "I," myself--the same of which our Lord asks His tremendous question: "What shall it profit a man if he gain the whole world and lose his own self?" Is not this "self" the real man, the man in the centre of his life, in the deepest recesses of his being, the man as he lives beneath the eye of God and enters into relations with God--the man for whom the Bible announces that exciting adventure in the long ages of the Hereafter? Is not this "I" looking out from behind your eyes this moment--the real man, of whom the body that you see is only the outward covering, of whom the brain is only the outward telegraphic instrument? Should not we adapt our thoughts to that tremendous fact? Instead of thinking "I _have_ a soul," should we not rather think "I _am_ a soul"? Instead of thinking, that beautiful girl has an ugly soul, that insignificant looking man has a noble soul, should we not rather think, that ugly soul has a beautiful girl body, that splendid soul is in a mean looking body? Would not some such manner of thinking help to bring home the reality, that "I" am the invisible immortal being which clothes itself in a material body during this first stage of its life. Should not we be more likely to become acquainted with our own soul, to become impressed with its existence, to think about its character? Should we not thus learn more easily that wealth and clothes and outward appearance are not so important, that the character, the relation to God is the one supreme thing? Think out for yourself the answer to that and to all these questions. I am not going to answer any of them. My purpose here is not to answer questions but to set you asking them--not to do your thinking for you, but to set you thinking for yourselves. Is it the spoiling and ruining of that self within you which Christ balances against the whole world? § 8 Now, have I helped, even in a little way, to introduce you to yourself--that "self" that is going out into the great adventure of the Hereafter? If I have, I have done a very good thing for you. With so many the soul is but a vague abstraction, belonging to the pulpit and the sick-bed and the life of the hereafter. But amid the busy daily life, the real work and pleasure, the real streets and houses, it is hard to think of it except as something shadowy and unreal. My effort here is to take it out of the region of the vague and unreal and bring it into the region of every-day, practical life. Try to respond to my thoughts. Try to get acquainted with your own self--your own soul. Try to watch its wondrous life. Try to become impressed with its existence--to think about its character. Think whether, when the Bible says anything about your soul, it means this mysterious being that you call "I." Think whether this "I" is an emanation from God's nature, and therefore is intended to be in harmony with Him. Think whether it must live for ever and ever, and therefore if its character be not of enormous importance--if its character-making be not the one supremely important thing in your life. Then realize that whether you exalt or degrade it, it is with you for ever. You CAN NEVER, NEVER, NEVER GET AWAY FROM YOURSELF. You will be the very same self after death as before. I read some time since of the sinking of a ship and how the captain dived through the cabin door, and keeping the light above in view, swam up through the hatchway and escaped out of the wreck. There is a deceitful expectation in human nature that when we go down in the sea of death and eternity we shall in some way escape out of ourselves, swim away from our own personalities, and thus leave the ship at the bottom of the sea. If the "I" meant only the body, that would be true. But this "I" is where character exists, where love and desire and will exist. This "I" is the captain himself. The captain cannot swim away from the captain. Myself cannot swim away from "myself." "I" must be "I" to all eternity. I cannot shake off my character, be it good or bad. Realize next what you mean to the God who created you and lovingly planned for you your magnificent destiny. Let the soul within you feel its dignity, its priceless importance in the eyes of its Maker. Measure the value of it by what God has done for it. Why was this world slowly built through thousands of ages? Just as a platform for this "I" to develop character. Why was the Incarnation and Death of the Everlasting Son of God? Why is the gift and energy of the Holy Spirit? Why is the perpetual intercession of Christ in Heaven? Why is the grace and power of the Sacraments in life? Why are the boundless prospects opened beyond the grave? All for the sake of this mysterious permanent supernatural being that we call "I." Measure I say by what God has done for it, the tremendous value He sets on your immortal soul. [1] In a simple, popular statement such as this it would but be confusing to go into nice metaphysical distinctions of soul and "spirit." CHAPTER II THE THREE STAGES OF EXISTENCE § 1 Now, grip with both hands the fact that this life, as you know it, is but one single stage in God's plan for you--the Kindergarten stage, the caterpillar stage of your existence. That in five thousand years that spiritual being looking out from behind the mask of your face to-day will be living still, and feeling still, and thinking still. That what you call death, the end of this career, is but birth into a new and more exciting career, stretching away into the far future, age after age, aeon after aeon, whose prospect should stir the very blood within us. There is nothing which so touches some of us as a thing with "makings" in it, a thing with untold potentialities in it, a thing which may come in the future to God only knows what. Talk of the caterpillar which is to develop into the butterfly or the acorn which shall one day be a mighty oak. Why, these miracles are but child's play compared with the miracles potentially wrapped up in this poor little self. No wildest fairy tale can suggest the wonder of its possibilities as it passes out into the new adventure of the life beyond. § 2 Thirteen hundred years ago there was an eager discussion in the court of King Edward of Northumbria. The old wattled hall was blazing with torches and a crowd of eager listeners hung intent on the teaching of the Christian missionaries who had just arrived. At last a grim bearded old earl rose in his place. "Can this new religion," he asked, "tell us of what happens after death? The life of man is like a swallow flying through this lighted hall. It enters in at one door from the darkness outside, and flitting through the light and warmth passes through the farther door into the dark unknown beyond. Can this new religion solve for us the mystery? What comes to men in the dark, dim unknown?" Perhaps he was thinking of his dead wife or his brave boy killed in battle. The old earl's question is the question of humanity in all ages gazing out into the darkness after its dead. The full answer can only be had by dying. But a partial answer can be had now. The Bible reveals to us that there are three stages of human existence: 1st. _The earthly stage_, where "I," the mysterious "I," live with a body woven around me. The Bible hints that this stage is of untold importance. In fact, all the future stages depend largely on how it is lived. That is what makes this first stage so awfully important. It is the formative time whose influence spreads out into eternity. In this stage Acts make habits. Habits make character. Character makes Destiny. 2nd. _The intermediate life_ BEFORE THE JUDGMENT, THE "NEAR HEREAFTER" WHEN "I" LAY ASIDE THE BODY AT DEATH. THIS IS THE STAGE BEFORE THE RESURRECTION WHICH IN OUR LORD'S TIME THE JEWS CALLED HADES, AND IN WHICH THEY CALLED THE SPECIAL STATE OF THE BLEST PARADISE, ABRAM'S BOSOM, UNDER THE THRONE, ETC. 3rd. And away after this _final stage_ the "Far Hereafter" in the "end of the age," as our Lord says, where come the General Resurrection, the Judgment of Men, the final stages of Heaven and Hell. _That stage has not yet arrived in the history of humanity_. In Part I of this book we are only concerned with the Intermediate Life, the life of the near Hereafter which comes after Death and before the Judgment. We are to study what can be known about it. With educated people it should not be necessary to combat the foolish popular notion that at death men pass into their final destiny--Heaven or Hell--and then perhaps thousands of years afterwards come back to be judged as to that final destiny! To state such a belief should be enough to refute it. Those who hold it "do err not knowing the Scriptures." For the Scriptures have no such teaching. The Jews in our Lord's time believed in a waiting life of departed souls before the Judgment. Owing to vagueness and contradictions in the Rabbinical teaching it is impossible to state their notions about it with definiteness. But in the main it may be said that when they speak of that life as a whole without distinguishing between the states of the good and the evil they call this whole by the general name of HADES, _i. e._, "the Unseen" (the Hebrew word was Sheol), but they also distinguished in it the abode or state of the Blest as PARADISE, or the "Garden of Eden," or "ABRAHAM'S BOSOM," or "UNDER THE THRONE," _e. g._, "Abraham whom God planted in the Garden of Paradise," "our master Moses departed into the Garden of Eden." The holy Judah rests this day in "Abraham's Bosom." Their teaching is of course not authoritative for us. Doubtless many of their notions on the subject needed much correction. But our Lord gives His sanction in the main to their belief and uses their very phrases in speaking of the new life, _e. g._, Dives "in HADES (not Hell, see R. V.), lift up his eyes being in torment"--Lazarus "was carried by the angels into ABRAHAM'S BOSOM." "To-day thou shalt be with Me in PARADISE" is His promise to the dying thief. And it is clear that He did not mean the final Heaven for He says, "No man hath ascended into Heaven only the Son of Man who is in Heaven." Even He Himself did not go to Heaven when He died, for this is His statement after the Resurrection, "I have not yet ascended unto My Father." Where, then, did His Spirit go? The whole Church throughout the world repeats every Sunday, in the creed, "He was dead and buried, and descended into HADES"--the life of the waiting souls. St. Peter tells us in his first Epistle that in those three days Christ's living Spirit went and preached to the spirits in safe keeping who had been disobedient in the old world. For which cause he says, "was the Gospel preached to them that are dead." The same thought was evidently in his mind in his first sermon (Acts ii. 31). "David," he says, "prophesied of the resurrection of Christ that His soul was not left in Hades." § 4 And this is the point of view of all the New Testament Scriptures. Heaven and Hell are always spoken of as states _after the Judgment_ and the Judgment is to be in the "end of the world" or the "end of this age." The great crisis of expectation set before men is not death, but "the Day when the Lord shall appear," _e. g._, "That ye may be saved in the Day of the Lord," "The Day of the Lord is as a thief in the night," "Looking for and hasting to the coming of the Day of God," "Keep the commandment till the appearing of our Lord," "To be found with praise at the appearing of Jesus," etc., etc. Warning, reproof, exhortation, encouragement are all directed to that great day at the end of the Waiting Life--the Judgment at the second coming of the Son of Man. Naturally this belief passed into the thought of the early church. "The souls of the godly abide in some better place and the souls of the unrighteous in a worse place expecting the time of judgment.... These who hold that when men die their souls are at once taken to heaven are not to be accounted Christians or even Jews" (Justin Martyr, A. D. 150, _Dialogue with Trypho_). "The souls of Christ's disciples go to the invisible place determined for them by God and there dwell awaiting the Resurrection" (Irenaeus, _Against Heretics_, A. D. 180). "All souls are sequestered in Hades till the Day of the Lord" (Tertullian, _De Anima_, A. D. 200). "Let no man think that souls are judged immediately after death; all are detained in one common place of safe keeping till the time when the Supreme Judge makes His scrutiny" (Lactantius, _Div. Institutes_). "During the interval between death and resurrection men's souls are kept in hidden receptacles according as they severally deserve rest or punishment" (Augustine). Does it not all give a fuller meaning for us to the words of our Lord, "In My Father's house are many mansions" (or abiding places). This whole teaching about the Intermediate Life has been obscured in our day by the fact that most people read the Authorized Version of the Bible where the word Hades has been unfortunately translated "Hell," just the same as the darker word Gehenna. At the time of the translation of the Authorized Version the old English word _hell_--the hole--the unseen, had not yet stiffened into the awful meaning that it has attained in our day. It was not then a word set apart to designate the abode of the lost. It simply meant the "unseen place," "the covered place." In the south of England still a thatcher who _covers in_ a house is called a "hellier." Even in games it was used. In the old English games of forfeits, on the village green, the "hell" is the hidden place where the girls ran away to escape being kissed. You can see it had no awful meaning necessarily connected with it. Therefore it did not seem repulsive to translate the Greek word "Hades," the Unseen, by the English "Hell." But it has become very misleading in later days, and our own conservative instincts which prevent our altering the word in the creed has helped to perpetuate the error. The revised version has put all this right, _e. g._, "His soul was not left in Hades (not hell), nor did His flesh see corruption" (Acts ii. 31). "I have the keys of death and of Hades" (Rev. i. 18). At the end of the world "death and Hades gave up the dead" (Rev. xx. 13). In Hades (not hell) "the rich man lifts up his eyes, being in torment" (St. Luke xvi. 23). § 5 The Bible, then, teaches to every careful student that there is the Intermediate Life beyond the grave, a vivid conscious life. That all men go there when they depart this life. No man has ever yet gone to Heaven. No man it would seem has ever yet gone to Hell. No man has ever yet been finally judged. No man has ever yet been finally damned. Thank God for that at any rate. The Bible teaches that all who have ever left this earth are waiting yet--from King Alfred to King Edward; from St. Paul to Bishop Westcott; from the poor struggler of the ancient days in the morning of history to the other poor struggler who died last night. We are now to study this next stage of our history, beginning at what we call death which is really birth into the next stage of life, just as the death of the caterpillar is the birth of the butterfly. In this next stage are living to-day our dear children and brothers and sisters and wives and husbands within the veil. In a very few years we shall all have gone through--each of us just the same "I." The Bible does not reveal very much about it as was to be expected. The Bible is intended to guide our conduct and prepare us for a final Heaven. Therefore it busies itself with the responsibilities of this present life and the glories of the final prospect--touching very lightly the intermediate stages, just as we press on a boy the importance of his school days and the high prospects for his manhood, touching very little the stages between.[1] But there is much more to be learned from Scripture about this Intermediate Life than most people think. [1] There is a further reason as regards St. Paul's epistles, which form one-third of the whole New Testament. The reason is that St. Paul and his people were not greatly interested in the Intermediate Life. They looked for the Lord's coming in glory during their own lifetime. Even if some died before, the intermediate waiting time would be so short that it excited no absorbing interest. They did not dwell on it. It could not concern them as it concerns us. CHAPTER III WHAT THE BIBLE SAYS ABOUT THE NEAR HEREAFTER We are now to enquire about that life into which our departed ones have gone from us. "I" has gone on his mysterious journey into the strange, new land. We are standing in the darkened death chamber, where the dead body lies, with close shut eyes, like an empty house whence the tenant has gone out, closing the windows after him, and the sobbing friends are feeling the inevitable pressure of the questions, "Where is he? What is he doing? What is he seeing? Can we know anything at all about his condition now?" Many of them say, "No, we cannot know anything; all is vague, shadowy, unreal. It is vain to torment our hearts by thinking." So they lock away his photographs and letters, and they gradually, reluctantly let him drop out of their conversation and their prayers, and, as far as possible, out of their thoughts, trusting sadly in the healing influence of time and forgetfulness to quiet the aching questions in their hearts. Ah! it is a poor comfort! Some of them even think that there is something presumptuous in intruding into mysteries which they say God has not revealed. "Do not the secret things belong unto the Lord our God?" What a pity they do not complete that text, "But the things that are revealed belong to us;" and then go on to find out whether, after all, God has not revealed a great deal more than they think about that mysterious journey on which the beloved one has gone. A reverent curiosity concerning the life of our departed is surely not displeasing to God. "I would not have you to be ignorant, brethren," says St. Paul, "concerning them that are asleep." I wish I could comfort those sorrowing questioners, as I have comforted myself, by thus searching for what God has revealed. I do not want to offer mere sentimental guesses. I want to find for them the "things that God has revealed," and if I draw some conclusions which I cannot definitely prove from Scripture, they are only such as seem to me reasonable and probable from a fair consideration of the evidence, and I shall draw a clear distinction between the authoritative teaching of Scripture, which you are bound to accept, and any conclusions which I draw from Scripture, which you are free to reject. Let me first put your questionings into clear, definite shape, as you look upon the face of your dead. Is it a life of sleep and unconsciousness into which he has gone, or is he as fully alive and conscious as he was an hour ago? Is there further probation in that life? Is there growth and progress? Does he still remember? Does he still love? Does he still know or care anything about the old home and about us who are left behind? Can he help us? Can we help him? Are we to think of him as one gone absolutely into the unknown, or may we think of him as we do of our other absent one who went to India last year, only with the difference that one writes home and the other does not? II As in all our troubles, we had best go first to our Lord. As He is the only one who really knows all the questions of our hearts, so He is the only one who really knows the secrets of the invisible world. He is the only one on earth who has ever gone away into that strange land and then came back to tell us anything about it. In all things He is our great forerunner. He, the Son of Man, has gone before us poor sons of man in all the experiences of life,--childhood, youth, manhood, temptation, struggle, sorrow, disappointment, victory, joy. And He has gone before us, too, into the Unseen Land, as if to lead us and say to us "Be not afraid." He does not speak much about it. As I have already shown you, this was to be expected. In the first place, in our present imperfect, limited condition, with senses fitted only for this poor earthly life, it would probably be impossible to teach us anything definitely about the higher life of the spirit world. How can you teach a blind, deaf man about this world of beautiful sights and sounds in which you are living? How could God teach us definite details about a life which no experience of ours can help us to imagine? And, besides that, Scripture is intended to guide our conduct in this world, not to gratify our speculations about another world. At any rate, there is a marked reticence and reserve all through the Bible in speaking of the Hereafter, which reticence and reserve we shall do well to imitate. § 1 First, watch our Lord draw the curtain a little in His story of the Rich Man and Lazarus. The "story" I say, not the "parable." It is no parable. A parable is the statement of an analogy between visible things and invisible. This is a direct statement about the invisible things themselves. Jesus is telling what happens after death. Indeed, many in the early Church thought, and many to-day think, that this is a direct historical account by Christ of the life of a certain selfish rich man in Jerusalem whom He knew and of a certain beggar that lay at his gate. They died and were buried, and those who followed them to the grave could see no further. But the Lord is watching them still as they pass into the land which He knew so well. Whether this was the story of a certain man, or only a general statement about all such men, does not matter. Christ was telling of what happens just after death, when the "I," the self, has laid aside the body and gone out into the Unseen. I do not mean that this story is intended as a revelation of that life. If it were it would doubtless have been more complete. It is simply a passing reference to it in warning against the danger of a selfish life. But it lifts the curtain a little bit. § 2 Be quite clear about this--that our Lord is not speaking of the FAR Hereafter--of the final stage of human life at the end of the world, in which after the Final Judgment come Heaven and Hell. He is speaking of the near Hereafter, the life immediately after death. We have seen that there are three stages in our history: 1st. This Earth life, where the "I," the self, has a body woven around it. 2nd. The Intermediate Life before the Judgment, into which I go at death without my body into my second stage of being. 3rd. The final stage at the end of the age in which come the Final Judgment and Heaven and Hell, which stage is still in the future for all humanity. Clearly our Lord is speaking of the Intermediate Life, of the unseen life existing to-day, running on side by side with the earthly life. For you see the men He speaks of are not long dead. Dives' brothers are still living here. Dives is quite conscious that the ordinary life of men is still going on on earth side by side with that other life. Clearly Jesus is telling of the present stage in the life of the departed--that life in which all our dear departed ones are living at this moment. § 3 Next I notice that that life in its inmost experiences seems very like this life, and follows from it quite naturally. He depicts it as a clear, conscious life. They are not dead nor asleep nor unconscious. They are very much alive. He represents them as thinking and speaking and feeling. Lazarus is feeling "comforted." Dives is feeling "tormented," and thinking keenly of his own misery and of his brothers' danger on earth at that moment. So actively alive are they all to him that he wants one of them to go back to earth to tell his brothers about it. Be quite clear about this. Challenge every statement as I go on. Is this a mere speculation of mine or have we Christ's authority for saying that in the new environment men are living a life as clear and vivid and conscious as on this earth--that death makes no break? § 4 Next I learn that each feels himself the same continuous "I" that he was on earth. Lazarus feels himself the same Lazarus, Dives feels himself the same Dives, the brother of those five boys. I shall still keep on saying "I." I am not somebody else over there. That is what Jesus said from the other side of the grave--"Handle Me and see--it is I, Myself." § 5 Next I read on His authority that there is no break in memory. Of course there could not be if I am still "I." But our Lord confirms this. Lazarus remembers Dives. Dives remembers Lazarus so well that he wants him to go back to convert his brothers. Aye, he remembers the brothers in the old Jerusalem home, the five boys that grew up beside him. He remembers sorrowfully that they have grown to be selfish men like himself, perhaps through his fault. He is thinking about them and troubling about them. And Abraham assumes this memory as a matter of course. "My son, remember that thou in thy lifetime, etc." Does not all this confirm our statement in Chapter I, that memory is something more than impressions on the gray matter of the brain; that memory is in the man himself who is behind the brain and, therefore, must go on with him. § 6 I read on, "Now he is comforted and thou art tormented." That again is just what I should expect. It is all quite natural. If "I" am still the same "I" in full vivid conscious life, in full memory of the past--if I have passed out of the mists of earth into the full light of the Eternal, where everything is seen at its full value, where money counts for nothing and love counts for everything, it is of course natural that the good man should feel comforted and the bad man should feel tormented. Only more so. Only more so. That is the difference. The poor humble follower of Christ, even on earth, is in the main happy--at his best moments. But he is not always very happy. He has the inner comfort of the peace of God. But there is much worry and distraction, about his business and his sickness and his troubles of many kinds to spoil his peace. All these earthly troubles are gone now. He sees Christ. He knows of the boundless joy before him by and by. He is comforted. And I read that Dives "is tormented." Here again all is natural and as we should expect. The godless man is in some degree tormented in this life--at his best moments, when he stops to think, when he lies awake in the lonely night and conscience speaks to him. But there are many distractions to ease his pain--the pleasures and amusements of life, the company of friends, the pursuit of business, the excitements of ambition. So he can manage a good deal to forget God, to acquire a distaste for God, and yet to dull the still small voice that hurts him. But these distractions are gone now. He has gone out into the new life, naked, alone. All the money and business excitement are gone. All the things of sense and appetite are gone. That poor soul of his, dwarfed and degraded, stands in the dread loneliness before God, full of the sense of loss and misery--of shame for the past--of dread of what is to come--of wretched discord between himself and all that is good. In Hades, says Christ, not in Hell (the Revised Version puts that right), in that life just after death, he lifted up his eyes, being in torment. The Judgment has not come yet. He is not in Hell. Hell has not yet come. Those things are in the final stage of being. But already, just after death, Christ says, he is in torment of soul. § 7 I do not think we should pass over the expression "carried by the angels into Abraham's bosom." Notice that our Lord makes it simple and intelligible for the Jews by using their own phrase, "Abraham's Bosom," their name for the state of the faithful departed immediately after death. And He says, Lazarus "was carried by the angels." If anybody else but Jesus had said it, we might pass this over as a piece of poetic imagery. But it was Jesus who said it. He says so much about the angels. He says that there are guardian angels of the children. He says that the angels rejoice over one sinner that repenteth. He would not say this about Lazarus carried by the angels unless it meant something real. If so I think we have here our Lord's authority for the ministry of angels at death, an indication that the poor soul does not go out solitary into a great lone land--that there are loving watchers around the death-bed "sent forth to minister to the heirs of salvation." I do not know how much weight we should attach to the suggestion that Dives seems the better for the discipline of the new life. His selfishness on earth bulks largely in the story. Now in all his trouble he is thinking of his five brothers "lest they also come to this place of torment." § 9 The next words suggest a very serious and awful question. Is the destiny and the condition of every soul fixed forever at death? What is the meaning of the phrase: "Between us and you there is a great gulf fixed"? That is too large a question to deal with here. I postpone it to a later chapter. I have already reminded you of the tremendous importance of this life in its bearing on our final destiny. III We get another hint of the Unseen Life in the story of the Transfiguration, when Moses and Elijah, two of the greatest souls of the old world days in the wondrous Waiting Life, come out from that life to meet the Lord and to speak with Him "of His decease, which He should accomplish at Jerusalem" (Luke ix. 31). Does it not suggest at once the deep interest which they and their comrades, the great souls within the Veil, were taking in the mighty scheme of Redemption that was being worked out on earth? Does it not suggest that in the spirit land they are watching our doings here? Does it not help us to anticipate the joy in that wondrous life when, straight from the Cross, Christ the triumphant victor "descended into Hades" (Apostles' Creed) to proclaim the glad news to the dead (1 Peter iv. 18); to unfurl His banner and set up His Cross in the great world of the departed? IV Our next hint comes when the Lord is dying on the Cross. The penitent thief is hanging beside Him. Death is drawing near. The poor sinner is about to take the leap off into the dark. He does not know what is before him: Darkness--unconsciousness--nothingness--what? He does not know. The only one on earth who does know is on a cross beside him. "LORD, REMEMBER ME WHEN THOU COMEST IN THY KINGDOM." And Jesus said: "TO-DAY THOU SHALT BE WITH ME IN PARADISE." Not in Heaven, but in Paradise--the Jews' word for the resting place of good men after death. Now, when one man says to another at such a tune, "To-day you shall be with me," surely it suggests, "You and I will be living a full, conscious life, and you will remember our acquaintance here upon the earth; we shall know each other as the two who hung together this morning on calvary." Does it not, at least suggest, recognition in the Unseen Land? CHAPTER IV WHAT THE BIBLE AND THE CHURCH SAY ABOUT THE NEAR HEREAFTER Only three hours later the Lord passed through into that Unseen Land. "Father, into Thy hands I commend My spirit, and having said this He gave up the ghost," and departed on the mysterious journey. If we could know anything about what He saw and did on that mysterious journey surely it would give some hints about our dear ones departed. § 1 That journey of the Lord into the world of the dead has been made a great article of the Christian faith. We all repeat it regularly in the Apostles' Creed, "He descended into Hell." I need not translate that clause. Every well taught Sunday-school child knows its meaning. "He descended into Hades," into the world of the departed in the great waiting life before the Judgment. But there is a great deal more than this to be said about it. Now, let us consider this statement. Clearly it deals with the three days between our Lord's death and resurrection. Where did His spirit go? "To heaven, of course," somebody says. "No," says the Lord Himself after the resurrection, "I have not yet ascended to My Father." Where, then, did His spirit go? "Nobody can tell," you say. Yes, one person could tell, and only one--the Lord Himself. He only could have told of His solitary temptation in the wilderness, and He evidently told it. He only could have told of the solitary scene in Gethsemane, it would seem that He told it. He only could have told of His visit to the world of the dead, and I think that He told it. You remember that after the resurrection He was with them "forty days teaching the things concerning the Kingdom." I think He must have told them then of those three days. Why? Because the knowledge of it was so wide-spread in the early Church, and there was no one else to tell it. Some people seem to think that there are only some obscure verses of St. Peter and a few references of St. Paul in favour of such teaching. Not at all. It was the belief of the whole Church. St. Peter and St. Paul were only two in a crowd of teachers of early days who proclaimed triumphantly the visit of the Lord into the world of the dead. St. Peter seems to be thinking of it in his first sermon when he quotes: "His soul was not left in Hades" (Acts ii. 31). Therefore St. Peter knew that it was into that intermediate life--not into that final Heaven--that our Lord went at death. This statement by itself would not prove much, but when I find the same St. Peter long afterwards telling so circumstantially in his first epistle (iii. 18) that when his Master was put to death in the flesh He was made more alive in the spirit, in which spirit He went and preached to the spirits in prison who had been disobedient at the flood. "For which cause (chap. iv. 6) was the gospel--the glad news--preached to them that are dead," I think it is a fair inference that St. Peter had some definite information. And then I find St. Paul, in Eph. iv. 9, when he is writing of the gifts bestowed on the Church by her ascended Lord. The word "ascended" causes him to pause abruptly. Men must not think that His work in the unseen was limited to that work for us in Heaven after His ascension. "Now that He ascended, what is it but that He descended first into the lower parts of the earth (_i. e._, the world of the departed) that He might fill all things." Hades and Heaven had alike felt the glory of His presence. And then immediately after the Apostles' days I find the knowledge wide-spread in the Church. I read the writings of the ancient bishops and teachers of the Church, beginning at the death of St. John, the very men to whom we refer for information as to the Baptism and Holy Communion and the authenticity of the four Gospels, and there I find prominently in their preaching the gospel of our Lord's visit to the world of the departed. § 2 The earliest is known as Justin Martyr. He was born about the time of St. John's death, and he feels so strongly about the Descent into Hades that he actually charges the Jews with mutilating a prophecy of Jeremiah foretelling it. Irenaeus, the great Bishop of Lyons in France, a little while later tells how the Lord descended {59} into the world of the dead, preaching to the departed, and all who had hopes in Him, and submitted to His dispensations, received remission of sins. Then away in Egypt comes St. Clement of Alexandria, born about fifty years after St. John's death. I have been greatly interested in some little touches in his chapter on the descent into the world of the dead. He asserts as the direct teaching of Scripture that our Lord preached the Gospel to the dead, but he thinks that the souls of the Apostles must have taken up the same task when they died, and that it was not merely to Jews and saints, but to heathen as well--as was only fair, he says, since they had no chance of knowing. Don't you like that honest appeal of his "as was only fair"? St. Clement's great disciple, Origen, comes next. His evidence comes in curiously. A famous infidel named Celsus, knowing of this wide-spread creed of the Church about the preaching in Hades, laughs at the Christians. "I suppose your Master when He failed to persuade the living had to try and persuade the dead?" Origen meets the question {60} straight out: "Whether it please Celsus or no, we of the Church assert that the soul of our Lord, stript of its body, held converse with other souls that He might convert those capable of instruction." Then away in Western Africa, the Church's belief is represented by another great teacher, Tertullian. In Jerusalem, Cyril the Bishop, teaches the people in his catechetical lectures this faith of the Church with a ring of gladness and triumph. He sees Christ not only amid the souls who had once been disobedient, but also in blessed intercourse with the strugglers after right who had never seen His face on earth. He pictures how the holy prophets ran to our Lord, how Moses, and Abraham, and Isaac, and Jacob, and David, and Samuel, and John the Baptist, ran to Him with the cry, "Oh, Death, where is thy sting? Oh, Grave, where is thy victory, for the Conqueror has redeemed us." I cannot go on to tell of St. Athanasius and the rest. I have said enough to show you that in the early ages of the Church--the pure loving ages--nearest to the Lord and to the Apostles, the Church rejoiced in the glad belief that Christ went and visited the spirits in the Unseen who had never seen His face on earth.[1] § 3 This was one of the gladdest notes in the whole Gospel harmony of the early Church for five hundred years, in the purest and most loving days, the days nearest our Lord and His Apostles. It was a note of triumph. It told of the tender, thoughtful love of Christ for the faithful souls who had never seen Hun. It told of the universality of His Atonement. It told of victory, far beyond this life. It told that Christ, who came to seek and save men's souls on earth, had continued that work in the world of the dead while His body lay in the grave. That He passed into the unseen world as a saviour and conqueror. That His banner was unfurled there and His cross set up there in the world of the departed. That the souls of all the ancient world who had never known Him, and WHO WERE CAPABLE OF TURNING TO HIM (_i. e._, who in their earthly probation, in spite of all their ignorance and sin, had not irrevocably turned away from God and good), might turn to Him and live. That the spirits of the old-world saints and prophets had welcomed Him with rejoicing. That even men of much lower place had yet found mercy. That even such men as those who had perished in the flood in God's great judgment, BUT HAD NOT HARDENED THEMSELVES AGAINST HIS RIGHTEOUSNESS AND LOVE, were not shut out from hope. In the "many mansions" was a place even for such as they. To the teachers of the early Church, I repeat, it was one of the most triumphant notes in their gospel--the wideness of Christ's Atonement. § 4 That is what we mean, then, by the descent into Hades. Does it not give a vivid reality to that world that we think of so vaguely? Think of it. Was there ever before or since such a scene, such a preaching, such a preacher, such a congregation? Could the wildest flights of imagination go further? Yet it is all sober fact. Try to picture it for yourselves for a moment. The Lord hanging on the cross, with His heart full of pain for that humanity that He was redeeming; and yet surely full of triumph, too, and glad anticipation. He was going to show Himself to the poor souls who in the dark old world days had loved God and Right. He had finished the work that was given Him to do. He was leaving His Church with that blessed gospel of salvation to preach through the centuries to all souls on earth. But what of the souls who had gone out of earth from the beginning of the world without knowing Him? The Church replies, through her Bible and through her Creed and through her early teachers, that the Lord was not forgetting them. He was about to go forth in a few moments, "quickened in His spirit," to bring His glad gospel to the waiting souls. That was the first great missionary work of the Church. May we not reverently see His own anticipation of it in His departing words as He started on His mission, "Father, into Thy hands do I commend My spirit" (in the journey on which it is going). May we not read it in that "au revoir," not "good-bye," to the thief beside Him, "To-day you shall be with Me in Paradise"? May we not dwell on the wonder and joy and gratitude and love which must have shaken that world within the veil, as the loving conqueror came in amongst them? And may we not reverently follow Him still in thought when He returned to earth and, as we conjecture, somewhere in the Forty Days after the Resurrection, told His disciples of His marvellous experience? I am not laying down this as a statement of Scripture, but I think it is a fair conjecture, for how else could they have learned it? And if we are right; think how the knowledge of it would swell the glad confidence of St. Paul. "For I am persuaded that neither DEATH, nor LIFE, nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature, is able to separate us from the love of God which is in Christ Jesus our Lord." I think we must see that this teaching of the Apostles and apostolic men of the whole early Church is true. People sometimes ask, "Why, then, is it new in our day?" The answer is easy. At the Reformation time there were terrible abuses connected with the Church's doctrine of the Intermediate life. The practice of purchased Masses, and Pardons, and Indulgences, and all the absurdities connected with the Roman purgatory, so exemplified in Tetzel's cry, "When money clinks at the bottom of my box a soul is released from purgatory." With such provocation one does not wonder--though one may greatly regret--that the indignant reformers, in sweeping away the falsehood, sometimes swept away also the underlying truth. The teaching about the Intermediate Life, and the old practice of the Church in remembering her faithful departed in prayer, were all put in the background as leading to dangerous abuse; and so the people, getting no real teaching about it, got the sad habit of trying to forget about the state of their dear ones departed. In their ignorance, they could only guess blindly what the Creed here means. So for centuries this has been the "lost article of the Creed." But this teaching of the Creed is none the less true, because it has been neglected in later days. And if it be true, it is well worth our attention, for it confirms what we have already learned from the previous teaching of the Lord, that the life of the departed is a clear, vivid, conscious life, since Christ could teach them and they could learn. And it suggests that the departed souls of the old world who had no chance of knowing Him have not by death lost all capacity for repenting and receiving Christ. Those men that St. Peter thinks of had perished in God's great judgment, but it would seem in their terrible fate they had not hardened themselves irrevocably against God. Those who do that on earth seem to close the door for ever. That is the sin against the Holy Ghost--the only sin which our Lord says hath never forgiveness either in this world or in the world to come. These evidently had still their capacity for repentance. And this gives one stirrings of hope in the perplexities of God's awful judgments. Don't be afraid to think this. There is not one word in Scripture to forbid our thinking it. It merely means that in the terrible fate which they had brought on themselves they had not utterly hardened their hearts--and Christ had not forgotten them in their misery. § 6 Estimate fairly the value of this evidence for our Lord's visit to the Unseen Life. Do not overestimate it. It is not all Scripture. But all that is not Scripture is the wide-spread belief of the primitive Church which was afterwards crystallized into an article of the Creed. Surely it is enough to deepen our sense of the reality of that Unseen Life. It strongly confirms what we have learned already--that that life is a vivid, conscious life into which "I" go my "self," with my full memory of the past. And do not misread it. It is not offering any hope to wicked men who, with full knowledge of Christ, wilfully reject Him. It tells of men who had never known Him, and has hope only of those "who were capable of receiving Him." There is nothing here to make light of the responsibility of this life. But this message comes to us to comfort the hearts and strengthen the faith of thinking men and women who are puzzled and perplexed and estranged from Christ by the terrible perplexities of life and of God's judgments as they understand or misunderstand them. You have often thought of the difficulty of reconciling the righteous justice of God with His Fatherly love. You have often thought, in wondering doubt, "Why did Christ come so late in the world's history? What of all the old-world souls who could not have known Him here on earth? For you know that there is no salvation save by Jesus Christ. You have read in the Old Testament of whole nations, men, women and little children, swept away in one dread destruction. What of them? You have wondered about the vast heathen world passing in thousands every day into the Unseen, with no knowledge of Him. You have sometimes read the Registrar-General's return of deaths in your city, and thought of all the little dead children, brought up in evil homes; of sullen prisoners hardened in the jails; of grown men and women in the city's slums who, through the hardening influence of circumstances, had little real chance of ever being touched by that tenderness of God's love which leads men to love Him in return. You know they have not died in Christ. What of them?" If you had to stand at some death-beds at which some of us have to stand you would feel as we do the insistent pressure of that question for all in the ancient or modern world--the vast countless world of the dead--who had no real chance of knowing Christ or being touched by His love here on earth. Oh, the generations old Over whom no church bell tolled Christless lifting up blind eyes To the silence of the skies. For the innumerable dead Is my soul disquieted! Trust them with God, says this teaching of the Creed. Christ will do right by them. Christ does not forget them. Trust Him, though thy sight be dim, Doubt for them is doubt of Him. * * * * * Still Thy love, O Christ, arisen Yearns to reach those souls in prison, Through all depths of sin and loss Sinks the plummet of Thy Cross. Never yet abyss was found Deeper than that Cross could sound. In these two chapters we have touched on the chief statements in the New Testament and in the beliefs of the primitive Church as to the near Hereafter. There are others of less importance to be referred to as we go on. It seemed well to lay down some basis to proceed on. [1] See Plumptre, _The Spirits in Prison_. CHAPTER V THE CRISIS OF DEATH In an earlier chapter I placed you in imagination in the darkened death chamber, looking on the face of your dead and feeling the keen pressure of the inevitable questions: What has happened to him? Where is he? What is he seeing? What is he knowing in that mysterious world into which he has gone? That death chamber is the best place on earth for solemn thought about the Hereafter. But when you are thinking only of your own dead and your heart is all quivering in pain and longing you are not in the best condition for cool, clear searching after truth. Imagination and sentiment are apt to run away with reason. The tender tortured woman is apt to believe too easily what the heart longs to believe. The stricken man in his deep numb pain is in danger of yielding to hopeless doubt about it all. So I lifted you away into a clearer atmosphere and sent you searching for definite revelations of God about other people's dead thousands of years ago, where your heart and affections were not involved, and where cool, clear reason had a chance to be heard. We tried to study impartially what Scripture reveals about the World of the Departed and how the primitive Church interpreted that revelation. This gives us a solid basis to proceed on. § 1 With that preparation we come back into the darkened room again looking into the face of our dead, trying in perplexity of heart to follow him on the great journey. To avoid confusion we assume here that he died a penitent man in Christ's faith and fear. Let me try to enter into your thoughts. Let me begin at the beginning--Death. Naturally we all shrink from death--the seeming shock of sundering soul and body--the launching out against our will into the regions of the Unexplored--the "land of far distances" as Isaiah calls it. We are afraid of that unknown death, for our dear ones--like children afraid of a bogey on the dark stairs. We can't help being afraid of it. But ought we to be so MUCH afraid of it? Has not our Lord taught us that there is no bogey on that dark stairs, that he who has just now closed his eyes in death is opening them already into a larger life? "There is no death, what seems so is transition." Now think of this "unknown death." Has not Christ revealed to you that this terrible thing that you so fear for him who is gone really only means that at the close of this poor limited kindergarten stage of his history Death has come--God's beneficent angel to lead him into the next stage of being. Why should you be afraid? Birth gave him much, Death will give much more. FOR DEATH MEANS BIRTH INTO A FULLER LIFE. What a fright he gives us, this good angel of God! We do not trust his Master much. Do you say that you do not know what is before your friend--that it is a "leap off into the dark"? Have we not learned from Scripture already that it is much less of "dark" than come of us thought? And may it not be much less of a "leap off" than we think--only a closing of the eyes here and an opening of them there? May not the birth into that life be as simple as the birth into this? May not our fright be like that of Don Quixote when blind-folded he hung by his wrist from the stable window and they told him that a tremendous abyss yawned beneath him. He is in terror of the awful fall. Maritornes cuts the thong with gladsome laughter and the gallant gentleman falls--just four inches! May we not believe that God reserves just as blithesome a surprise for us when our time comes to discover the simplicity, the agreeableness, the absence of any serious change in what we call dying. I am not ignoring the pain and sickness of the usual death-bed. But these are not dying? The act of dying comes after these. These are but the birth pangs before the new life begins, the rough, hard bit of road that leads to "the wicket gate out of the city." Pliny, from much clinical observations, declares his opinion that death itself is pleasure rather than pain. Dr. Solander was delighted at the sensation of dying in the snow. The late Archbishop of Canterbury remarked as he died: "It is really nothing much after all." Dying itself may be pleasure rather than pain. We have all noticed that expression of composed calm which comes on the faces of the newly dead. Some say it is only due to muscular relaxation. Perhaps so. But perhaps not. One likes to think that it may be something more. Who knows that it may not be a last message of content and acquiescence from those departing souls who at the moment of departure know perhaps a little more than ourselves--a message of good cheer and pleasant promise by no means to be disregarded.[1] At any rate does not Scripture suggest to us in the story of Lazarus--of Moses and Elias at the Transfiguration--of the dying thief--of the spirits in the Unseen Life whom Christ visited at His death--that Death comes not as an executioner to cut off our departed one from life and love, but rather as God's good angel bringing him more than life has ever brought, and leading him by a path as full of miracles of soft arrangement as was his birth to heights of ever advancing existence. God reveals to us too that the closing of the eyes in the darkness of Death is but the opening them to the light of a larger life, to the vision of the new mysterious real world which the glare of this world obscured. It is just what happens every day when the glare of the sunlight, revealing to us every little flower and leaf and insect, shuts out from us the great universe of God which stands forth in the midnight sky. Do you know Blanco White's famous sonnet? He is imagining what Adam must have felt as the first night fell on the earth. All the beautiful world that he had known for but a day was vanishing from him into darkness. Was the end of all things come already? But lo, a stupendous unexpected miracle! Lo, as the darkness deepened a new and more wonderful world was revealed in the sky, a world which the sunlight had kept absolutely concealed: Hesperus, with the host of heaven came And lo! Creation widened on man's view Who could have thought such marvels lay concealed Behind thy beams, O Sun? Or who could find Whilst flower and leaf and insect stood revealed That to such countless orbs thou madest us blind? Why do we then shun Death with anxious strife If Light can thus deceive, wherefore not Life? Yes, life shuts out greater things than light does. God teaches us that Death is birth, that what the earth life conceals Death will reveal; that as the babe's eyes opened from the darkness of the womb to sunlight on this earth, so will the eyes that close in the darkness of death open on "a light that never was on sea or land." § 2 And may not this act of dying be much less lonely than we think? God sent each of us into this first stage of existence with mother and home and loved friends about us. No one comes into this world to loneliness. Should not that stir some hope at least that the Father may take similar care for us in our entry on the second stage at death? I hate sentimentalizing about it. But this is not sentimentalizing. I have already called attention to our Lord's only account of a good man's entrance into the Unseen. "He was carried by the angels," He said, and I have shown you some reason to think that He meant literally what He said--that the angels who are presented in Scripture as so interested in our life here are equally interested in our transition to a larger life--that loving watchers are around a soul as it passes into the Unseen. I sometimes wonder, too, how much significance should be attached to the fairly frequent phenomenon of dying people seeming in some rapt vision to see or feel as if meeting them the presence of loved ones gone before. Sometimes these phenomena are very striking. I once thought of asking a religious journal to open its columns to testimony from thoughtful, cool-headed clergy and laity of such experiences at death-beds. It might enable us to judge critically if it could be explained away as mere sentimental fancy or if the evidence were strong enough to suggest an underlying reality. It would need to be very keenly criticized. All allowance should be made, especially in the case of women, for the deceitfulness of pious fancies. But there are some cases which, if their number were large enough, would point much deeper, where there could be no case of sentimental fancies. For instance a young student in one of our city hospitals told me a curious experience lately. A little child under two years old had been rescued out of a fire and was dying badly burned. "I took the little chap on a pillow in my arms," he said, "to let him die more easily. Suddenly he stiffened himself and reached out his little hands and his face beamed with the sort of gladness that a child has in reaching to something very pleasant and in a very short time he died." My informant was by no manner of means a sentimental youth, and he was much struck with the incident. I don't know if there is much evidence of this kind. If so it would count for a good deal in forming our judgment. Our Lord speaks of those whom we have made friends on earth receiving us when we die into the everlasting habitations (Luke xvi. 9). Is it too good to believe that He might have meant some pleasant welcoming on the other side--that perhaps that little child in the hospital that night was really reaching out his little hands to some one invisible to the young student? Let us have no weak sentimentalizing, but on the other hand--is anything too good to believe as to what God might do for poor frightened souls at such a dread crisis of being? [1] I have here freely adapted some thoughts and phrases from Edwin Arnold's _Death and Afterwards_. CHAPTER VI "I," "MYSELF" AFTER DEATH § 1 But we must not delay at Death. Death is a very small thing in comparison with what comes after it--that wonderful, wonderful, wonderful world into which Death ushers us. Turn away from the face of your dead. Turn away from the house of clay which held him an hour ago. The house is empty, the tenant is gone. He is away already, gasping in the unutterable wonder of the new experience. O change! stupendous change! There lies the soulless clod. The light eternal breaks, The new immortal wakes, Wakes with his God! Oh! the wonder of it to him at first! Years ago I met with a story in a sermon by Canon Liddon. An old Indian officer was telling of his battles--of the Indian Mutiny, of the most striking events in his professional career; and as he vividly described the skirmishes, and battles, and sieges, and hair-breadth escapes, his audience hung breathless in sympathy and excitement. At last he paused; and to their expressions of wonderment he quietly replied, "I expect to see something much more wonderful than that." As he was over seventy, and retired from the service, his listeners looked up into his face with surprise. There was a pause; and then he said, in a solemn undertone, "I mean in the first five minutes after death." That story caught on to me instantly. That has been for years my closest feeling. I feel it at every death-bed as the soul passes through. I believe it will be my strongest feeling when my own death-hour comes--eager, intense, glad curiosity about the new, strange world opening before me. Not long ago in the early morning I stood by a poor old man as he was going through into the Unseen. He was, as it were, fumbling with the veil of that silent land--wishing to get through; and we were talking together of the unutterable wonder and mystery that was only an hour or two ahead. I always talk to dying people of the wonders of that world just ahead of them. I left him and returned to see him in a couple of hours; but I was too late, he had just got through--got through into that wonder and mystery that I had been stupidly guessing about, and the poor old worn body was flung dishevelled on the bed, as one might fling an old coat, to be ready for the journey. He was gone. Just got through--and I felt, with almost a gasp, that he had solved the riddle of life; that I would give anything, risk anything, for one little glimpse through; but I could not get it. I could only guess the stupendous thing that had come to him. For all the stupendous changes that have ever happened here are surely but trifles when compared with that first few minutes in the marvellous life beyond, when our friends pass from us within the veil, and our hearts follow them with eager questioning--"What are they doing? What are they seeing? What are they knowing now?" § 2 More and more of late years I keep asking those questions at death-beds. I seem to myself constantly as if trying to hold back the curtain and look through. But the look through is all blurred and indistinct. It must always be so while we are here, with our limited faculties, shut up in this little earth body. I know certain facts about the "I," the "self" in the Unseen Life, but I have no knowledge and no experience that would help me to picture his surroundings. I cannot form any image, any, even the vaguest, conception of what that life appears like. That is why my outlook is so blurred and indistinct. And this brings me to point out WHAT SORT OF KNOWLEDGE WE CAN HAVE AND WHAT SORT OF KNOWLEDGE WE CANNOT HAVE about that life. It may help you not to expect the impossible. You desire to know two things about the Unseen World. 1st. You desire to know the real life of the "I" himself--consciousness, thought, memory, love, happiness, penitence and such like. 2nd. You desire to know his outward surrounding, so that you can picture to yourself his life in that world. That is what gives the interesting touch to your knowledge of your friend's life in a foreign land on earth. Now the first of these is the really important knowledge, and such knowledge you can have and you can understand because it is of the same kind as the knowledge you already have of him on earth. The second would be an interesting knowledge, but this knowledge you cannot have, because you have no faculties for it and no similar experience to help you to realize it. It is a law of all human knowledge that you cannot know and cannot depict to yourself anything of which you have had no corresponding experience before. "I," "myself" which goes into the Unseen is the really important matter, not my surroundings. And the essential knowledge, I say, about that self, about his inner real life in the Unseen you can have and you can understand because the inner life there is of the very same kind as the inner life here. If I am told of full consciousness there, of memory there, of love or hatred there, of happiness or pain there, of joy or sorrow there, I can easily understand it. I have had experience of the like here. There is no difficulty. But the knowledge of the outward environment there--what we shall be like, how that world will appear, how we shall live and move and have our being in a spiritual existence--all that deeply interesting knowledge which imagination could use to picture that life and bring it before us--THAT we cannot have. It is not possible with our limited faculties and limited experience. We could not be taught it. We have no faculties to take it in and no experience to aid us in realizing it. A blind man cannot picture colours to himself, a deaf man cannot imagine music. It is not that we are unwilling to teach him, but that his limited faculties prevent him from taking in the idea. Realize your position then with regard to the spiritual world. Imagine a population of blind, deaf men inhabiting this earth. One of them suddenly gets his sight and hearing, and lo! in a moment an unutterable glory, a whole world of beautiful colours and forms and music has flowed into his life. But he cannot convey any notion of it to his former companions. He cannot convey to them the slightest idea of the lovely sunset or the music of the birds. We, shut up in these human bodies, are the blind, deaf men in God's glorious universe. Some of our comrades have moved into the new life beyond, where the eyes of the blind are opened and the ears of the deaf are unstopped. But we have no power of even imagining what their wondrous experience is like. I suppose that is the reason why we have no description of Paradise or Heaven except in earthly imagery of golden streets and gates of pearl. I suppose that is why St. Paul could not utter what he saw when in some tranced condition he was caught up into Paradise and that life was shown to him--"whether in the body or out of the body," he could not tell (2 Cor. xii. 4). I suppose that was why Lazarus could tell nothing of these marvellous four days in which his disembodied spirit mingled with the spirits of the departed. "'Where wert thou, brother, those four days?' There lives no record of reply, Which, telling what it is to die, Had surely added praise to praise." I suppose it was all unintelligible to mortal ken when the spirit had come back to the body it had left. If, in a crowd of blind deaf men, one got his sight and hearing for a few minutes, and then relapsed, what could he tell to his comrades or even fully realize to himself? Thus you see the knowledge that you can have and the knowledge you cannot have of that spirit life. Be content. God has given you a great deal of knowledge of that real life of the self in the hereafter. If He has so made you that the other knowledge that would help you to picture the surroundings is impossible to you it is best that you should know it. Be content. Don't cry for the moon. Follow your departed in thought into that life and realize what you have learned from Scripture about him. II What have you learned? First that IT IS A VIVID CONSCIOUS life into which he has gone. There are several passages in Scripture which speak of Death as sleep and which taken alone might suggest a long unconsciousness, a sort of Rip Van Winkle life, sleeping for thousands of years and waking up in a moment at the Judgment Day, feeling as if there had been no interval between. But a little thought will show it is a mere figure of speech taken from the sleeping appearance of the body. "The sleep of Death" is a very natural expression to use as one looks on the calm, peaceful face after life's fitful fever and the long pain and sickness of the death-bed. But no one can study the Bible references to the life beyond without seeing that it cannot be a life of sleep or unconsciousness. "Shall we sleep between Death and the Judgment?" asks Tertullian. "Why souls do not sleep even when men are alive. It is the province of bodies to sleep." This sleep theory has always been condemned whenever the Church has pronounced on it. Even the Reformers declare it at variance with Holy Scripture in spite of the strong feeling in its favour in their day.[1] The reader who has followed thus far will need no proof as to the teaching of Scripture that the Waiting Life before the Judgment into which our dear ones have gone is no unconscious sleep but a real vivid conscious life. So vivid that our Lord's spirit is said to have been quickened, made more alive, as He passed in. So vivid that the men of the old world could listen to His preaching. So vivid that Moses and Elias--those eager, impetuous leaders--in that wondrous life could not be held by its bonds, but broke through to stand on the mountain with Christ a thousand years after their death. So vivid that Lazarus (whom our Lord describes as in Abraham's bosom) is depicted as living a full, clear, intelligent life; and Dives as thinking anxiously about his five brothers on earth. That was surely no unconscious life which St. Paul saw when he was caught up into Paradise and heard unspeakable things, nor was it a blank unconsciousness that he looked for in his desire "to depart and be with Christ which is far better" (Phil. i. 23). Do you want further proof? Look at our Lord and the thief on the cross. The two men had been hanging together dying on the cross, just about to get through the veil to the world beyond. The poor thief did not know what was beyond that veil--darkness, insensibility, stupor, oblivion. The only one on earth who did know hung there beside him. And when the poor dying one turned with the words, "Lord, remember me when Thou comest in Thy kingdom," He promptly replied, "To-day thou shalt be with Me." If any one knew, surely He knew. If it meant anything, it meant, "There shall be no oblivion, no unconscious sleeping. To-night, when our dead bodies lie here upon the cross, you and I shall live and know each other as the two men who hung dying together on Calvary." Ah! the wonder to him as he went in beyond the veil, as though the Lord would lead him, lest he should be afraid. Beyond all question God has revealed to you plainly enough that your beloved has gone into a full, vivid, conscious life. He is more alive to-day than he ever was on earth. What follows? This. If I am fully conscious what am I conscious of? Surely, first of all I must be conscious of myself, conscious of the continuity of my personal identity, conscious of the continuity of my personal character. I must feel that I am the same "I," I am still "myself." Death which removes only the outer covering leaves the Ego just where it was. No better. No worse. The Bible lays no emphasis at all on death as making any change in character. Our Lord assumes the characters as remaining the same. The mere act of dying does not alter character. I am the same I. I have entered into a new environment more favourable for the exercise of my faculties, more adaptable to the acquisition of knowledge, more helpful, I trust, to growth in good. But I am the same "I." As I leave off here I begin there. I take into that world just myself as I have made it. If I have made the best of myself what more should I desire to take? Consciousness, Memory, Thought, Love, Character. If I have not made the best of myself, if I have acquired a distaste for God, for holiness, still I take in myself just as I stand. Think how tremendously solemn that makes the life here. It is the place of character making for the life there. I can never, never, never get away from myself. I shall always be myself. You remember what our Lord said from the other side of the grave. "Handle Me and see it is I MYSELF." It is I myself, the very same self. It is they themselves, the very same selves whom I loved and who loved me so dearly. In that solemn hour after death, believe it, your boy, your wife, your husband, who is experiencing the startling revelations of the new life is feeling that life as an unbroken continuance of the life begun on earth. Only the environment is changed. He feels himself the same boy or man that he was an hour ago, with the same character, aspirations, desires, the same love and courage and hope. But oh, what a different view of all things! How clearly he recognizes God's love and holiness. How clearly he sees himself--his whole past life. If ever he cared for Christ and His will, how longingly, wonderingly, he is reaching out to Him. If ever he loved you tenderly on earth, how deeply and tenderly he is loving you to-day. In all the whirl of awe and wonder and curiosity and hope, love must stand supreme. For "love never faileth." "And now," says St. Paul, "abideth Faith, Hope and Love (these three that abide for ever), but the greatest of these is love." § 3 What else have you learned? That HE REMEMBERS CLEARLY the old life and the old home and the old comrades and the old scenes on earth. There is no conjecturing about that. That goes without saying if "I" am the same "I" in that world. Personal identity of course postulates memory which binds into one the old life and the new. And the Bible takes that for granted. We saw that Lazarus remembered Dives and Dives remembered Lazarus and remembered his old home and the five young brothers who grew up with him. He remembers that they have grown to be selfish men like himself and is troubled for them. And Abraham assumes it as a matter of course. "My son, remember that thou in thy lifetime," etc. Our Lord comes back from Death remembering all the past as if Death made no chasm at all in His memory. "Go and meet Me in Galilee," He says; "Lo I have told you" (before I died). And the redeemed in the future life are represented as remembering and praising God who had redeemed them from their sins on earth. So you may be quite sure that your dear one is remembering you and storing up in his memory all your love in the past. Did your wife ever tell you on earth how happy you had made her? Did the old father and mother now in the Unseen ever thank God for the comfort you had been to them during their declining years? Be sure that in that land of love these will be amongst the most precious pictures in their storehouse of memory. § 4 And he has taken with him all the treasures of mind and soul which by God's grace he has won for himself on earth. A man can take nothing of the external things--of gold or lands. Nothing of what he HAS but all of what he is--all that he has gained IN HIMSELF. The treasures of memory, of disciplined powers, of enlarged capacities, of a pure and loving heart. All the enrichment of the mind by study, all the love of man, all the love of God, all the ennobling of character which has come through the struggle after right and duty. These are the true treasures which go on with us into that land where neither rust nor moth doth corrupt. § 5 And he is "WITH CHRIST." The Bible teaches that the faithful who have died in Christ are happy and blest in Paradise even though the Final Heaven and the Beatific Vision is still but a thing to be longed for far off in the future. Lazarus is "comforted" after his hard life on earth. "The souls of the righteous are in the hands of God, there shall no torment touch them." "Blessed are the dead which die in the Lord ... they rest from their labours." But best of all it assures us that they are WITH CHRIST. "Lord Jesus receive my spirit" the dying Stephen prayed as he passed into the Unseen. They are "absent from the body at home with the Lord." They "depart to be with Christ which is far better." "With Christ." One has to write carefully here. The full vision of the Divine Glory and Goodness and Love is reserved for the final stage of existence in Heaven where nothing that defileth shall enter in, whereas this Intermediate Life is one with many imperfections and faults, quite unready for that vision of glory. But for all that St. Paul believed that the presence of Christ was vouchsafed in that waiting land, in some such way we may suppose as on earth long ago. Only an imperfect revelation of the Son of God. And yet--and yet--oh, how one longs for it! Think of being near Him, even in some such relation as were the disciples long ago. "I think when I read that sweet story of old, When Jesus was here amongst men, How He called little children as lambs to His fold, How I long to have been with Him then." Yes, St. Paul seems to say you shall be with Him, you shall have that longing gratified in some measure even before you go to Heaven. So that Paradise, poor and imperfect as it is compared with the Heaven beyond, is surely a state to be greatly desired. Some pages back I wrote with a certain shrinking "No man has ever yet gone to Heaven." It is quite true, and yet I could feel some poor mourner shrinking back from it as he thought of that beloved one gone. Nay, shrink not. Paradise means the "Park" of God, the "Garden" of God, the place of rest and peace and refreshing shade. The Park is not the Palace but it is the precincts of the Palace. Paradise is not Heaven, but it is the Courtyard of Heaven. And (the dearest, tenderest assurance of all) they are with Christ. Is not that sufficient answer to many questions? At any rate the Bible definitely teaches that. [1] Our "39 Articles" were originally 42, and the 40th says, "They which say that the souls of those who depart hence do sleep being without all sense, feeling or perceiving till the Day of Judgment ... do utterly dissent from the right belief declared to us in Holy Scripture." CHAPTER VII RECOGNITION § 1 SHALL WE KNOW ONE ANOTHER IN THAT LIFE? Why not? As George Macdonald somewhere pertinently asks, "Shall we be greater fools in Paradise than we are here?" This is a perfectly apt retort, and not at all flippant as it may seem at first. It is based on the belief suggested by common sense and confirmed by Scripture that our life there will be the natural continuous development of our life here and not some utterly unconnected existence. If consciousness, personal identity, character, love, memory, fellowship, intercourse go on in that life why should there be a question raised about recognition? True, there are morbid times with most of us when we are inclined to doubt all desirable things, and there are some gloomy Christians who are always suspicious of anything especially bright and hopeful in the Gospel of Christ. But to the normal Christian man who knows what is revealed and who believes in the love of God, there should never be any serious doubt about recognition in that life. § 2 Before saying anything about Scripture evidence let me point out that there are some things that are always assumed by legitimate inference even without any definite proofs. If I knew that the inhabitants of Mars were alive, and in full consciousness, and with souls like mine, and capable of intercourse with each other--whether they have bodies or not, I should assume that they knew one another. I should not wait for that fact to be definitely stated by a visitor to Mars who should return to earth. I should assume it without his stating it. Nay, I should require very strong evidence to make me believe the contrary. Now, the Bible says that our dear ones in Paradise are alive,--that their life is a full conscious life, with full consciousness of personal identity, that they remember the things of the old earth life, that they love one another, that they can have intercourse together as in the story of Dives and Lazarus. So far as we can judge, the inner life of the "I" THERE seems a very natural continuation of his life HERE. If then, "I" am the same "I," the same person, still alive, still conscious, still thinking, still remembering, still loving, still longing for my dear ones, still capable of intercourse with others, why may I not without definite proof assume the fact of recognition? Surely it should require strong evidence to make me believe the contrary. It is one thing to avoid reckless assertions without any foundation--it is quite another thing to have so little trust in God that we are afraid to make a fair inference such as we would unhesitatingly make in like conditions here--just because it seems to us "too good to be true." Nothing is too good to be true where God is concerned. I do believe that one reason why we have not definite answers to such questions as this is because such answers ought not to be necessary for people who trusted fully in the tenderness of the love of God. § 3 Why, even if the Bible were to give you no hint of it, do you not see that the deepest, noblest instincts that God has implanted in us cry out for recognition of our departed; and where God is concerned it is not too much to say that the deepest, noblest instincts are, in a sense, prophecies. This passionate affection, the noblest thing that God has implanted in us, makes it impossible to believe that we should be but solitary isolated spirits amongst a crowd of others whom we did not know, that we should live in the society of happy souls hereafter and never know that the spirit next us was that of a mother or husband or friend or child. We know that the Paradise and earth lives come from the same God who is the same always. Into this life He never sends us alone. There is the mother love waiting and the family affection around us, and as we grow older love and friendship and association with others is one of the great needs and pleasures of life and one of the chief means of training the higher side of us. Unless His method changes we may surely hope that He will do something similar hereafter, for love is the plant that must overtop all others in the whole Kingdom of God. Again, love and friendship must be LOVE AND FRIENDSHIP for SOME ONE. If we don't know any one, then we cannot love, and human love must die without an object. But the Bible makes it a main essential of the religious life that "He that loveth God love his brother also." If we shall not know one another, why then this undying memory of departed ones, this aching void that is never filled on earth? Alas for us! For we are worse off than the lower animals. The calf is taken from the cow, the kittens are taken from their mother and in a few days they are forgotten. But the poor human mother never forgets. When her head is bowed with age, when she has forgotten nearly all else on earth you can bring the tears into her eyes by speaking of the child that died in her arms forty years ago. Will God disappoint that tender love, that one supreme thing which is "the most like God within the soul"? § 4 There can be no real reason, I repeat, for doubting the fact of recognition unless the Bible should distinctly state the contrary. And so far from doing this the Bible, in its very few references to the Hereafter life, always assumes the fact and never in any way contradicts it. Notice first the curiously persistent formula in which Old Testament chroniclers speak of death. "He died in a good old age and WAS GATHERED UNTO HIS PEOPLE and they buried him." "Gathered unto his people" can hardly mean burial with his people, for the burial is mentioned after it. It comes between the dying and the burial. And I note that even at Moses' burial on the lone mountain top this phrase is solemnly used. "The Lord said unto him get thee up into the mount and die in the mount AND BE GATHERED TO THY PEOPLE." Miriam was buried in the distant desert, Aaron's body lay on the slopes of Mount Hor, and the wise little mother who made the ark of bulrushes long ago had found a grave, I suppose, in the brick-fields of Egypt. Did it mean that he came back to them all in the life unseen when he was "gathered to his people"? David seemed to think that he would know his dead child. "I shall go to him but he shall not return to me." Our Lord assumes that Dives and Lazarus knew each other. And in another passage He uses a very homely illustration of a friendly gathering when He speaks of those who shall "sit down with Abraham and Isaac and Jacob in the Kingdom." And again in His advice about the right use of riches. "Make to yourselves friends by the means of the mammon of unrighteousness that when ye die they may receive you into the everlasting habitations" (Luke xvi. 9). Surely, that at least suggests recognition and a pleasant welcoming on the other side. I remember well, how in the pain of a great bereavement, His words to the penitent thief came into my life like a message from the Beyond. "To-day thou shalt be with Me in Paradise." I put myself in the place of that poor friendless man taking his lonely leap off into the dark and felt what a joy and comfort it must have been. "To-day we shall be together again at the other side." Not, "I will remember thee," but, "Thou shalt be with Me." Not, by and by when I come in My Kingdom, but "To-day." If anybody knew, surely Jesus knew. If His words meant anything surely they meant we shall be conscious of each other, we shall know each other as the two friendless ones who hung on the cross together. Then I see St. Paul (though he is referring to the later stage of existence) comforting bereaved mourners with the thought of meeting those whom Christ shall bring with Him. Where would be the comfort of it if they should not know them? He expects to meet his converts and present them to Christ. How could he say this if he thought He would not know them? I wonder if anybody really doubts it after all. Just think of it! With Christ in Paradise and not knowing or loving any comrade soul! Is that possible in the land of love? With our dear ones in Paradise and never a thrill of recognition as we touch in spiritual intercourse the mother, or wife, or husband, or child for whose presence we are longing! Cannot you imagine our wondering joy when our questionings are set at rest? Cannot you imagine the Lord in His tender reproach, "Oh, thou of little faith, wherefore didst thou doubt?" § 5 Sometimes one vaguely wonders, How can there be spiritual recognition? How shall we recognize each other without this accustomed bodily shape? And in the effort to realize the fact of recognition men have made many guesses. But really we know nothing about the "How." We know that the self in that life can think and remember and love. We know that we can still communicate thoughts to each other. Can we not leave with God the "how" of recognition? In several places Scripture seems to suggest that the souls of the departed are clothed in some kind of visible spirit shape. They are spoken of as not only recognized but in some way seen as in the case of Samuel and of Dives and Lazarus and of Moses and Elias at the Transfiguration and of our Lord Himself in the spiritual body after the Resurrection. They seem to be visible when they please and as they please. But when a mother asks, how then should she know her child who died twenty years ago, one feels that recognition must be something spiritual and not depending on visible shape. Even here on earth much of our recognition is spiritual. Soul recognizes soul. We recognize in some degree good and evil character of souls even through the coarse covering of the body. We instinctively, as we say, trust or distrust people on first appearance. Or again, a slight young stripling goes away to India and returns in twenty years a big, bearded, broad-shouldered man, with practically no outward resemblance to the boy that went away. But even though he strive to conceal his identity he cannot hide it long from his mother. She looks into his eyes and her soul leaps out to him. Call it instinct, insight, intuition, sympathy, what you please, it is the spiritual vision, soul recognizing soul. If that spiritual vision apart from bodily shape plays so great a part in recognition here, may it not be all-sufficient there? In that life where there is consciousness, character, memory, love, longing for our dear ones, and power of communication, is it conceivable that we should have intercourse with our loved and longed for, without any thrill of recognition? Surely not. Instinctively we shall know. It was not mother that I knew thy face, It was my heart that cried out Mother![1] {108} § 6 P.S.--I let these words stand as they appear in the earlier editions of this book. For they are true. But to my mind now there is a far more probable answer. It is this: That it is not you who will have to do the recognizing; at any rate that you will not be first with it. If it be true, as we have reason to believe (see next chapter), that your dear one there is watching your life on earth, of course he would know you at once. While, year by year, you have been changing from youth to old age he has been near you all the time. He knows you as familiarly as if he had been on earth beside you. Probably he has been waiting and watching as you came through. And whatever change has passed on him in his new life, surely he too will be easier to recognize when he has claimed you first. Whether this suggestion appeals or no, at any rate we need have no doubt that we shall know one another there. Nay, shall we not know each other there far more thoroughly than we do here? "Now," says St. Paul, "we see in a mirror, darkly, but then face to face. Now I know in part, then shall I know even as also I have been known." St. Paul's thought is of our fuller knowledge of things hereafter. Does it not include also our fuller knowledge of one another? I met this passage lately in a letter of Phillips Brooks: "I wonder what sort of knowledge we shall have of our friends in the Hereafter and what we shall do to keep up our intimacy with one another. There will be one good thing about it. I suppose we shall see through one another to begin with and start off on quite a new basis of mutual understanding. I should think it would be awful at first, but afterwards it must be nice to feel that your friends knew the worst of you and you need not be continually in fear that they will find out what you really are." I think a simple natural thought such as that seems to bring the idea of spiritual recognition more within our ken. But we must remember that our conjectures about the MODE of recognition have very little basis. The FACT of recognition we may practically assume. The "how" we must leave with God. "Soul of my soul I shall meet thee again. With God be the rest." [1] Momerie. Immortality. CHAPTER VIII THE COMMUNION OF SAINTS We have already seen that the evidence of Scriptures leads us to the assurance that our dear ones departed are living a vivid, conscious life; that there is continuance of personal identity. "I" am still "I," and that there is memory still, clear and distinct, of the old friends and the old scenes on earth. § 1 We pass on to consider the relations between ourselves and them. Do they know now of our life on earth? Can there be between us comradeship in any sense? Can there be love and care and sympathy and prayer between us on these two sides of the grave, as there is between friends on earth on the two sides of the Atlantic? The Church says yes, and calls it in her creed, the Communion of Saints. The Communion of Saints--a very grand name, but it means only a very simple thing--just loving sympathy between us and these elder brothers and sisters beyond the grave. The term "saint" in the New Testament only means any poor humble servant of Christ "set apart" to Him, baptized into His name. Communion means Fellowship, Comradeship. Therefore the Communion of Saints simply means fellowship between Christians, and in church language has come chiefly to mean fellowship between Christians at this side and at the other side of death. Knowledge and comradeship and sympathy and love and prayer between the church MILITANT on earth and the church EXPECTANT in Paradise, as they both look forward to the final joy of the church TRIUMPHANT in Heaven, and meantime coöperate one with the other to bring the whole world within the Kingdom of Christ. You see that it is a prominent doctrine of the Church's creed, and rightly understood, it is a very beautiful and touching doctrine--not only because of the union of fellowship with our departed--but especially because the bond of that union and fellowship is our dear Lord Himself, whom we and they alike love and thank and praise and pray to and worship, and from whom we and they alike derive the Divine sustenance of our souls. You know what a bond of union it is between two men even to find that they both deeply honour and admire and love the same friend and benefactor. They become one in him. The Bible means that, but a great deal more, when it says we are "one in Christ Jesus." Here on earth, there in Paradise, is His presence. Here on earth, there in Paradise, is the love and prayer and praise going forth to Him, and the strength and power of God coming back from Him. You know His own simile, "I am the Vine, ye are the branches." From the central Vine the life rises and flows to every farthest branch and twig and leaf, connecting them all in the one life. He the Sacred Vine is on earth with us and in Paradise with them. Some of the branches are in the shadow here, some of them are in the sunlight there, but we are all united through the Lord Himself. He is the Vine, we are the branches. Because He is with us here, prayer and praise and all the functions of the Church are here. Because He is with them in Paradise prayer and praise and all the functions of the Church go on in Paradise. Every Sunday as we in our poor way love Him and worship Him and pray to Him and praise Him, our dear ones beyond are doing the very same. Notice how in the Communion Service we remind ourselves of the fact. "Therefore with angels and archangels and all the company of Heaven we laud and magnify Thy holy name," etc. It is not we alone who feed on His divine life, it is not the altar on earth alone that communicates the all-prevailing virtues of the atoning Blood, for the same Victim is the central object of adoration beyond, as saints and angels and all redeemed creation are with us taking up together the chorus of that everlasting hymn. If we on this side were living closer to our Lord and closer to our departed, how close might that comradeship become! We should tell our Lord so much about each other. We should think of each other and remember each other and sympathize with each other and pray for each other. Why, we could do everything for each other that we can do on earth when separated by the Atlantic--except just write home. (Ah, how one wishes that they could "write home"!) We are very close if we would but realize it. "Death hides but it does not divide Thou art but on Christ's other side, Thou art with Christ and Christ with me In Him I still am close to thee." II Yes, you say, that is a beautiful thought. But is that all? My poor heart is craving for more communion than that. Do they know or care about my love and sorrow to-day? And are they helping me? Are they praying for me to that dear Lord whom we both love--in whose presence we both stand to-day? And can I do anything for them on my side in this "Communion of Saints"? § 1 Do they pray for us or help us in any way? Does any one need to ask that question? Since they are with Christ of course they pray. The world to come is the very atmosphere of prayer. St. John in his vision tells of "the offering of the golden vials full of odours which are the prayers of the saints" (Rev. v. 8). And again three chapters later the angel stood to offer the prayers of all saints upon the golden altar. Can you imagine your mother who never went to bed here without earnest prayer for her boy going into that life with full consciousness and full memory of the dear old home on earth, and never a prayer for her boy rising to the altar of God? Why, even the selfish Dives, after death, could not help praying for his brothers. Aye, she is praying for you. I think amongst the most precious prayers before the golden altar are the mother's prayers for her boy who is left behind on earth. § 2 But, you say, she does not know anything about my life or my needs on earth. Even if she did not know she would surely pray for you. But I am not so sure that she does not know. There are several hints in Scripture to suggest that she does know--hints so strong that if you are doing anything now that she would like I should advise you to keep on doing it and if you are doing anything now that you would not wish her to know, I should advise you to stop doing it. Our Lord represents Abraham as knowing all about Moses and the prophets who came one thousand years after his time (St. Luke xvi. 29). Our Lord distinctly tells the Jews that Abraham in that life knew all about His mission on earth. "Your Father Abraham rejoiced to see My day and he saw it and was glad" (St. John viii. 56). At the Transfiguration, too, Moses and Elias came out from that waiting life to speak with Christ of His decease which He should accomplish at Jerusalem. Does it not suggest at once that they and their great comrades within the veil were watching eagerly and knowing all about the life of Christ and the great crisis of man's redemption towards which they had been working on earth long years ago. Can any one believe that the whole Waiting Church within the veil, living, and conscious, and thinking, and remembering were absolutely ignorant and unconcerned about the greatest event that ever came in the history of their race? The writer in the Epistle to the Hebrews apparently believed that our departed ones were watching our course, for after a long list of the great departed heroes of faith in olden time he writes to encourage us in the race on earth. "Seeing that we are encompassed about with so great a cloud of witnesses let us lay aside every weight and run with patience the race that is set before us" (Heb. xii. 1). The picture suggested is that of the runners in the amphitheatre on earth and the galleries of Creation crowded with sympathetic watchers like the "old boys" of a great English school coming back at the annual school games to cheer on the lads and remember how they had run themselves long ago in the very same fields.[1] III And the hope which Scripture thus suggests and never contradicts commends itself to reason and to the deepest instincts in our hearts. I think of a mother leaving her children and going into a full conscious life, where, mark you, she can still think and remember and love. I see that her love for them was probably the most powerful influence in ennobling her life here. And she has gone into a life where that ennobling is God's chief aim for her. Since she can remember them, I feel quite sure that if she had the choice she would want to watch over them always. But, somebody says, she might not be quite happy if she knew all that they had to go through. Seeing that at any rate she remembers them, do you think she would be more happy if she knew that they might have to go through troubles of which she could not learn anything? Put yourself in the place of any mother on earth that you know and ask if it would make her any happier to stop all letters about her children whom she felt might be in danger or trouble. Are you quite sure that in that spirit life a peaceful contentment like that of the cow who forgets her calf is the highest thing to be desired? The higher any soul grows on earth the less can it escape unselfish sorrow for the sake of others. Must it not be so in that land also? Surely the Highest Himself must have more sorrow than any one else for the sins and troubles of men. Have you ever thought of that "eternal pain" of God? If there be joy in His presence over one sinner that repenteth must there not be pain in His presence over one that repenteth not? There are surely higher things in God's plans for His saints than mere selfish happiness and content. There is the blessedness that comes of sympathy with Him over human sorrow and pain. We but degrade the thought of the blessedness of the redeemed when we desire that they should escape that. And since in that life she is "with Christ" and able doubtless to win for her children more than she could ever win on earth, and since she knows that Christ is more solicitous for them than she is herself and that she can trust Him utterly to do for them more than she can ask or think, does it not seem far more probable that she should still know and care and love and pray and share in the care and sympathy of Christ for them? Yes, I think probably she does know about them. I know certainly she prays about them. I myself hope and believe that some of the best helps in my life have been won for me by those on the other side who love me and who are so near to their Lord. § 2 And it is a strong confirmation of that belief when I find it the belief of the great bishops and teachers of the early Church in its purest and most loving days, the days nearest to those of Christ and His apostles. St. Cyprian the martyr bishop of Carthage who was born in the century after St. John's death (A. D. 200) made an agreement with his friend Cornelius that whichever of them died first should in the Unseen Land remember in prayer him who was left behind. "Let us mutually be mindful of each other.... On both sides let us always pray for each other, let us relieve our afflictions and distresses by a reciprocity of love and whichever of us goes hence before the other by the speed of the Divine favour, let our affection continue before the Lord, let not prayer for our brothers and sisters cease before the mercy of the Father" (Ep. lvii. ad Cornel.). And in the days of the plague at Carthage, A. D. 252, he comforts his fellow citizens reminding them of "the large number of dear ones, parents, brothers, children, a goodly and numerous crowd longing for us and while their own immortality is assured still longing for our salvation." Origen, who was a contemporary of Cyprian, says, "All the souls who have departed this life still retaining their love for those who are in the world concern themselves for their salvation and aid them by their prayers and mediation with God. For it is written in the Book of the Maccabees, 'This is Jeremiah the prophet who always prays for the people'" (in Cant. Hom. iii.). And in another work he says, "It is my opinion that all those fathers who have fallen asleep before us fight on our side and aid us by their prayers" (in Jesu Nave Hom. xvi. ch. 19). And again "They (in that unseen life) understand who are worthy of Divine approval and are not only well disposed to these themselves, but coöperate with them in their endeavours to please God, they seek His favour on their behalf and with their prayers and intercessions they join their own." And again, "These (in the Unseen Life) pray for us and bring help to our perishable race, and if I may so speak, take up arms alongside of it" (Contra Celsum viii. 64). St. Gregory Nazianzen is preaching the funeral sermon of St. Basil. "He still prays for the people," he says, "for he did not so leave us as to have left us altogether." And in his funeral sermon over his own father, "I am satisfied that he accomplishes there now by his prayers more than he ever did by his teaching just in proportion as he approaches nearer to God after having shaken off the fetters of his body." St. Cyril, Bishop of Jerusalem, in his Catechetical lectures, and St. Chrysostom in several of his homilies speak of the help we get through the prayers of departed holy men. St. Ambrose in his great grief at his brother's death, says: "What other consolation is left me but this that I hope to come to thee my brother speedily, that thy departure will not entail a long separation between us, and that power may be granted me by thy intercessions that thou mayest summon me who long to join thee more speedily." St. Jerome, who gave us the Vulgate, the great Revised Bible of the Western Church, is comforting a mother who has lost a daughter. "She entreats the Lord for thee and begs for me the pardon of my sins." Again to another friend, Heliodorus, he speaks of the life after death. "There you will be made a fellow burgher with St. Paul. There also you will seek for your parents the rights of the same citizenship. There too you will pray for me who spurred you on to victory." Again he vigorously disputes with Vigilantius who asserts that prayers and intercessions must cease after death. "If the apostles and martyrs while still in the body are able to pray for others ... how much more may they do so now.... One man, Moses, obtains from God pardon for 600,000 men in arms; and Stephen, the imitator of his Lord, begs forgiveness for his persecutors; shall their power be less after they have begun to be with Christ?"[2] § 3 But sympathy and prayer must not be on one side only. It must be mutual in the Communion of Saints. They remembering and loving, and thinking about us. We remembering and loving, and thinking about them. They asking from their Lord blessing for us. We asking from Him blessing for them. For surely they are not above wanting His blessings still--not even the best of them though safe with Him, though forgiven their sins, they are still imperfect, still needing to grow in grace, in purification, in fitness for the final heaven by and by. And we can help their growth as they can help ours. Some of the most deeply religious people that I know shrink from the thought of prayer for the departed. There has been reason for it. This beautiful old custom, the custom of the Jews, the custom of the whole Christian Church till the Reformation[3] had grown at that time into great corruption. And one danger of great corruption is that indignant reformers are likely to tear away more than the corruption, "hating even the garment spotted by the flesh." So it was here. Because of the abuse men feared even the use. In their hatred of the sordid traffic in masses for the dead they looked with suspicion on any prayer for the departed. And at length men began to think that such prayers were even wrong. Ah, it was a pity! Our departed ones have more quickly passed into oblivion. The great Paradise life has almost faded from our view. We are the more lonely in our desolate bereavement. Perhaps our dear ones beyond are the more lonely, too, if they know about our life and our prayers on earth. A friend said to me lately, "I was a little child when the news came of father's death far away. That night in my prayers I prayed for father as usual. But my aunt stopped me. 'Darling,' she said, 'you must not pray for father now; it is wrong.' And I can remember still how I shrank back feeling as if some one had slammed the door and shut him outside." I think we should be happier and better, I think the Unseen World would come back more clearly on our horizon if we kept our dear ones in our prayers as we used to do before they died. Do not keep any hidden chambers in your hearts shut out from Christ. Bring your dear departed ones to Him as you bring all else to Him. He knows what is best for them. Pray only for that. Pray "Lord help them to grow closer to Thee. Help them if it may be to help others and make them happy in Thy great Kingdom until we meet again." Pray something like that. Oh, how can you help doing it if you love them and believe in prayer? How can I cease to pray for thee? Somewhere In God's wide universe thou art to-day. Can He not reach thee with His tender care? Can He not hear me when for thee I pray? Somewhere thou livest and hast need of Him, Somewhere thy soul sees higher heights to climb, And somewhere, too, there may be valleys dim Which thou must pass to reach the heights sublime. Then all the more because thou canst not hear Poor human words of blessing will I pray. O, true brave heart, God bless thee wheresoe'er In God's wide universe thou art to-day! [1] It is true that the Greek word translated "witnesses" is not the word meaning "spectators" but rather "witnesses for the faith," but as most good commentators (including Bishop Westcott) say--it is impossible to exclude the thought of spectators in an amphitheatre watching a race. The Revised Version, too, seems to accept this view for it prints the word "witnesses" without any marginal remark. [2] Luckock, _After Death_. [3] The evidence for this can be seen in full in any standard work on the subject, e. g., Luckock, _After Death_; or Lee, _Christian Doctrine of Prayer for the Departed_. CHAPTER IX GROWTH AND PURIFICATION What is the main purpose of the Intermediate Life? Is there something to be done there which cannot be fully done at any other time? Let us still try to keep to the firm ground of Scripture, and to avoid confusion let us confine ourselves still to the case of those who have died, in some degree at least, in penitence and faith. § 1 We have already seen that Scripture intimates that that life is not one of sleep or unconsciousness. It is a clear conscious life. It is therefore natural to ask what happens in it? What is the use of it? Science and experience teach that growth is the law of all the life which we know anything about. Even if we had no further light of revelation we should find it difficult to believe that imperfect beings dying in the grace of God pass into that life and live in it for years or for ages without any growth or development. Scripture also teaches that God's aim for us is not merely that we should escape hell or just creep into heaven. Our goal is to grow into the likeness of God, to "rise to the stature of the perfect man, even to the stature of the fullness of Christ." How many of us are ever even in sight of that goal when we die? But Scripture goes further still. It points us forward to the final stage of being, to the Beatific Vision of God in the far future and tells us with awe that that God "is of purer eyes than to behold iniquity," that "even the heavens are not clean in His sight;" that into that final abode of bliss "nothing that defileth shall enter in." Which of us, the greatest soul of us all, can look forward to such a prospect without bowing himself in dread like Isaiah of old, "Woe is me for I am undone, for I am a man of unclean lips, that mine eyes should see the King of the Lord of Hosts!" If there be no growth or purification in the Waiting Life what hope is there ever for any one of us of fitness for the presence of the all holy God? Think that the great majority of those who die, even though penitent and striving after right, have much of evil clinging to them; that many after a whole life of ingraining their characters with evil have brought sorrowfully to Christ at last their poor defiled souls; that even the best is not without many faults and stains. If nothing that defileth shall enter Heaven, if growth is a law of all life as far as we know it, are we not practically compelled to believe that much of the growth and purification needed to fit us for God's presence shall take place in the great Waiting Life? And this belief and hope for all these poor faulty souls in whom the good work of God has begun on earth, St. Paul confirms. "Being confident of this very thing, that He who hath begun a good work in you will perfect it UNTIL THE DAY OF JESUS CHRIST"--_i. e._, right through the earth life, right through the Intermediate Life, until the last great scene in the drama of our history opens at the Judgment Day. § 2 How this shall take place God has not definitely revealed to us. But God has given us reason and common sense to enable us to draw conclusions from what He has revealed. Since in that life I am the same conscious "I," with the same consciously continuous personality, with the same conscience and memory, I may surely expect that the Holy Spirit "who hath begun a good work in me and will continue it until the day of Jesus Christ"--will continue it in much the same natural way as here, through Conscience and Memory and the Sense of His Presence. Only that these will be all more keen and effective and free from the disturbance of the bodily senses and the distractions of this life on earth. CONSCIENCE here is the throne of the Holy Ghost, from which He rules and directs my life. Therefore my body is "the temple of the Holy Ghost." But Conscience here is greatly weakened by fears and hopes and ambitions and distractions of various kinds. At times, when I lie awake at night and think about my life, or when I enter into my closet to prepare by special concentration of spirit for my Holy Communion, I get some dim notions of what Conscience might effect in me if it had a free hand. In THAT life of close spiritual concentration, when the outer world is shut off and the soul enters into its own deepest recesses, contemplating itself, contemplating its past and its future, contemplating the deep tender love of Him who is there present as in Palestine long ago, and feeling that in spite of all my shameful ingratitude He is loving me and blessing me and watching tenderly over me--surely I may expect great things of the operation of Conscience in me. MEMORY in this life is a very wonderful thing. It can call up in a moment, for Conscience to work on, pictures of half a century ago. But in the fast crowding impressions on the senses Memory is overtaxed and has to lay away in its storehouse of subconsciousness whole tracts of the past which never rise up before my conscious thought at all. Psychological science has much to say in late years about this storehouse of subconscious memory and the power that, unknown to me, it is exerting on my life. It is there all the time, "under the threshold." These buried memories are alive, ready to spring up, but asleep--in abeyance. § 3 Now think what this means for Conscience and for Memory as the handmaid of Conscience in the great contemplative life after Death. There is no good or evil thing that I have ever done but Conscience has pronounced on. Some of these judgments I remember. Some of them I forget. In the many distractions of life and the desire to escape painful thoughts, there has dropped down under the threshold of my conscious thought a vast store of memories of which I am oblivious, but of which one and another and another springs up at times unexpectedly with a startling reminder of the great hidden store behind. I meet by chance an old friend of my boyhood, and as he talks about the old times, picture after picture springs up into the light, memories which had long gone from me and which would never have sprung up from "under the threshold" but for the chance stimulation of his talk. We have often heard of drowning people on the verge of death having the forgotten memories of half a lifetime flashed back in a moment. An old friend once told me a curious experience. "I was crossing a railway line hurriedly on a wet day. As I rushed over the rails the Express came in view. I slipped and fell--fortunately into a hollow where men had been working, and swift as a flash the Express swept over me. The experience of that half minute I shall never forget. It seemed that my whole life was blazoned before me in thirty seconds. Things that I had not remembered for forty years past flashed back in a moment as if they had happened yesterday." That is what Memory can do even in this life under strong excitation, calling up its forgotten stores. Think what its power may be in that life as a handmaid to Conscience. With all its old lumber rooms of forgotten deeds thrown open--with all the forgotten feelings of my life--boyhood, youth, manhood--open for my contemplation. My impatience and God's patience, my sorrows and why God sent them, my mercies, all the kindly providences of God working unknown to me all my days. And my sins--some sins that I hate to think of, some that I had almost succeeded in forgetting, all standing out clearly before me in the unsparing light of that mysterious life. I sat alone with my Conscience In the place where time had ceased. We discoursed of my former living In the land where the years increased. And I felt I should have to answer The questions it put to me, And to face those questions and answers In that dim eternity. And the ghosts of forgotten actions Came floating before my sight, And things that I thought were dead things Were alive with a terrible might. And the vision of all my past life Was an awful thing to face Alone, alone with my Conscience, In that strange and lonely place. Aye, my Conscience must do its work some day if I keep it from doing it now. But all this will be in the presence of my Saviour. They are "with Christ." Every memory will be more keen and poignant and yet more peaceful and touching in the presence of that dear loving Lord who I feel knows all and yet has loved and received and forgiven me in spite of all, and who is watching over me with deep tenderness like the refiner of silver over His furnace as the dross is cleared away and I grow steadily in fitness for the glorious life of unselfish joy and service in Heaven. But pain! You do not like any thought of pain in connection with that life. Yes surely, more or less, according to one's state, and dying gradually into perfect peace. Growth of holiness does not come to sinful man here or there but through pain, the tender blessed pain of God's purification, the pain of self-reproach, the pain that thou hast sinned, "The shame of self and pity for thy Lord That One so sweet should e'er have placed Himself At disadvantage such, as to be used So vilely by a being vile as thee." But what a sweet and wholesome pain, mingled with the sense of safety and peace and hope--mingled with deep joy and boundless adoring gratitude and love as we see the stain of the old sins steadily being effaced and look forward to the sure bliss of Heaven in the future! Surely by means of such pain and gratitude and adoring love God makes sinful souls fit for Heaven. CHAPTER X PROBATION IN THIS LIFE Up to this we have been ignoring a large proportion of the inhabitants of the Unseen Land. To avoid misunderstanding we have kept in view those only of whom we had hope that they died in the fear and love of God. But there is no evading the thought that between these and the utterly reprobate, there are multitudes of Christian and heathen in that Unseen Life today who belong to neither class, mixed characters in all varying degrees of good or evil. Of many of them it could be said that those who knew them best saw much that was good and lovable in them. But it could not be said that they had consciously and definitely chosen for Christ. They must form the majority of those to-day in the Unseen Land. Therefore one cannot help wondering about them. One day death overtook them. The thought of them comes forcibly when some morning the newspapers startle us with the story of a terrible battle or railway smash or shipwreck or conflagration in which hundreds have passed out of life in a moment and the horror of the catastrophe is deepened by the thought that they have been called away suddenly unprepared. What of their position in the Intermediate Life? Our Christian charity prompts us to hope the best for them. But are we justified in hoping? It is impossible for thoughtful, sympathetic men to evade that question. It is cowardly to evade it. At any rate a treatise on the Intermediate Life can hardly pass over altogether the thought of the majority of its inhabitants and it cannot be wrong for us humbly and reverently to think about them. § 2 I have already pointed out the solemn responsibility of this earth life in which acts make habits and habits make character and character makes destiny. I am about to point out the grave probability, to say the least of it, that in a very real sense this life may be the sole probation time for man. But this does not shut out the question of the poor bereaved mother by the side of her dead son. "If any soul has not in penitence and faith definitely accepted Jesus Christ in this life is it forever impossible that he may do so in any other life?" I answer unhesitatingly, God forbid! Else what of all the dead children down through the ages and all the dead idiots and all the millions of dead heathen and all the poor stragglers in Christian lands who in their dreary, dingy lives had never any fair chance of knowing their Lord in a way that would lead them to love Him, and who have never even thought about accepting or rejecting Him? "Shall not the Judge of all the earth do right?" Shall not the loving Father do His best for all? Our Lord knew "that if the mighty works done in Capernaum had been done in Tyre and Sidon they would have repented." Does He not there suggest that He would take thought for those men of Tyre and Sidon in the Unseen Land? Does He not know the same of many gone unto that Unseen from heathen lands and Christian lands, who would have loved Him if they knew Him as He really is and who have but begun to know Him truly in the world of the dead--of many who in their ignorance have tried to respond to the dim light of Conscience within and only learned within the veil really to know Him the Lord of the Conscience, "the light which lighteth every man coming into the world" (St. John i. 9). Here is no question of encouraging careless, godless men with the hope of a new probation. Here is no question of men wilfully rejecting Christ. The merry, thoughtless child--the imbecile--the heathen--had no thought of rejecting Christ. The poor struggler in Christian lands, brought up in evil surroundings, who though he had heard of Christ yet saw no trace of Christ's love in his dreary life--he cannot be said to have rejected Christ. The honest sceptic who in the last generation had been taught as a prominent truth of Christianity that God decrees certain men to eternal Heaven and certain men to eternal Hell not for any good or evil they had done but to show His power and glory, and who has therefore in obedience to conscience frankly rejected Christianity--can he be said to have rejected Christ? The possibility in this life of putting oneself outside the pale of salvation is quite awful enough without our making it worse. It is not for us to judge who is outside the pale of salvation nor to limit the love of God by our little shibboleths. It is on a man's WILL, not on his knowledge or ignorance that destiny depends. God only can judge that. All the subtle influences which go to make character are known to Him alone. He alone can weigh the responsibility of the will in any particular case. And surely we know Him well enough humbly to trust His love to the uttermost for every poor soul whom He has created. II But this hope must not ignore the solemn thought that in a very real sense the probation of this life seems the determining factor in human destiny--even for the unthinking--even for the ignorant--nay even for the heathen who could never have heard of Christ here. Rightly understood all that we have said does not conflict with this. It may seem strange at first sight to think of the heathen as having any real probation here. Yet, mark it well, it is of this heathen man who could not consciously have accepted Christ in this life that St. Paul implies that his attitude in the Unseen Life towards Him who is the Light of the World is determined by his attitude in this life towards the imperfect light of Conscience that he has. "If the Gentiles who have not the Law do by nature the things contained in the Law, these having not the Law are a law unto themselves, which show the works of the Law written in their hearts, their Conscience bearing witness" (Rom. ii. 14). We may assume that St. Paul means that the heathen man who in this life followed the dim light of his conscience is the man who will rejoice in the full light when it comes and that the man who has been wilfully shutting out that dim light of conscience here is thereby rendering himself less capable of accepting the fuller light when he meets it hereafter. In other words this life is his probation, he is forming on earth the moral bent of his future life. We may assume the same of men in similar conditions in Christian lands, men brought up amid ignorance and crime, men brought up in infidel homes, men to whom Christ has been so unattractively presented that they saw no beauty in Him or even instinctively turned away from Him impelled by their conscience. They all have the light of God in some degree and by their attitude towards the right that they know are determining on earth their attitude towards God in the Hereafter. They are forming character and _character tends to permanence_. The "outer darkness" it would seem comes not from absence of light but from blindness of sight. The joy of Heaven is impossible to the unholy just as the joy of beautiful scenery to the blind or the joy of exquisite music to the deaf. Probation in this life--simply means that in this first stage of his being a man either is or is not blinding his eyes and dulling his ears and hardening his heart so as to make himself incapable of higher things in the life to come. If then it be possible even for a heathen to have in this life sufficient probation to determine his attitude towards God for ever, how much more for a man in the full light of Christianity. In view of this the great law of life that CHARACTER TENDS TO PERMANENCE may it not be awfully true that a man who with full knowledge of Christ wilfully and deliberately turns from Him all through this life, should thus render himself incapable of turning to Him in any other life? With _full knowledge of Christ_ I say, not with knowledge of some repulsive misrepresentation of Christ. For think what it means to reject Christ wilfully with full knowledge of Him. His voice still comes as we tramp on, With a sorrowful fall in its pleading tone: "Thou wilt tire in the dreary ways of sin; I left My home to bring thee in. In its golden street are no weary feet, Its rest is pleasant, its songs are sweet." And we shout back angrily hurrying on To a terrible home where rest is none: "We want not your city's golden street, Nor to hear its constant song!" _And still Christ keeps on loving us, loving all along_. Rejected still He pursues each one: "My child, what more could thy God have done? Thy sin hid the light of heaven from Me, When alone in the darkness I died for thee. Thy sin of to-day in its shadow lay Between My face and One turned away." And we stop and turn for a moment's space To fling back that love in the Saviour's face, To give His heart yet another grief, And glory in the wrong. _And still Christ keeps on loving us, loving all along_. Is it hard to believe that a man thus knowing Christ and wilfully rejecting Him should thereby risk the ruin of his soul? Can we not recognize this awful law of life that wilful sin against light tends to darkening of the light--that every rejection of God and good draws blood as it were on the spiritual retina, that a life of such rejections of the light tends to make one incapable of receiving the light for ever. If this be so it is not at all fair to misrepresent it by saying that God cruelly stereotypes a man's soul at death and will refuse him permission to repent after death however much he may want to. The voice of the Holy Ghost within tells us that this could never be true of the Father. We must believe that through all Eternity, if the worst sinner felt touched by the love of God and wanted to turn to Him, that man would be saved. What we dread is that the man may not want to do so, may have rendered himself incapable of doing so. We dread not God's will, but the man's own will. Character tends to permanence. Free will is a glorious but a dangerous prerogative. All experience leads towards the belief that a human will may so distort itself as to grow incapable of good. Even a character not hardened into permanent evil may grow incapable of the highest good. A soul even forgiven through the mercy of God may "enter into life halt and maimed" like a consumptive patient cured of his disease but going through life with only one lung. Though the Bible does not give an absolutely definite pronouncement on this question, yet the general trend of its teaching leads to the belief that this life is our probation time. It everywhere calls for immediate repentance. And St. Paul says that the Judgment is for deeds "done _in the body_," and there are such hints as "the door was shut" and "there is a sin unto death," and "it were better for a man not to have known the way of righteousness than after he has known it to turn from it."[1] And this has been the general belief of the Church in all ages. Even in all the hopeful words of the ancient Fathers about Christ preaching to the spirits in prison who in the dark old world days "had sometime been disobedient," we have seen that they add some such significant phrase as "that He might convert those _who were capable_ of turning to Him." (See Chapter IV, p. 60.) And human experience of character tending to permanence makes this fact of human probation awfully probable. There is nothing in Scripture nor in its interpretation by the Church, nor in human experience, to conflict with the statement that in this life Acts make habits and Habits make Character and character makes Destiny. What new discoveries of God's power and mercy may await us in eternity we cannot know, but from all we do know we are justified in thinking that (in the sense which I have stated) a man's life in this world determines his destiny--at any rate that a man who presumes recklessly on chances in the future is taking terrible risks. The Bible gives no encouragement to hope that one who with full knowledge of Christ keeps on wilfully rejecting Him all through this life will be able to turn to Him in any other life. The only comfort we dare offer to anxious mourners grieving over sinful friends departed is that God only is the judge of what constitutes irrevocable rejection of good, that we cannot tell who has irrevocably "done despite to the Spirit of grace," and that the deep love and pain of Christ for sinful men remains for ever and ever. We may tell the poor mother that her deep love and pain for her dead son is but a faint shadow of the deep love and pain of God--that no one will be surprised or trapped in his ignorance--that no one will be lost whom it is possible for God to save--that no one will be lost until "the Heavenly Father has as it were thrown His arms around him and looked him full in the face with the bright eyes of His love, and that of his own deliberate will he would not have Him" (Faber). We dare not minimize what the love and pain of God may do, but we dare not presume in the face of Scripture to lighten the awful responsibility which this life brings. Thus we reach larger thoughts of God's dealings with man and deeper interest in the infinite variety that must be in the "many mansions" of the boundless life hereafter. And this sets us wondering about another thought as to ministry in that life. [1] I have not quoted such texts as "Where the tree falleth there it shall lie," which no sensible student now uses in this connection, nor even the well-known text, "Behold now is the acceptable time, behold now is the day of salvation," for the "acceptable time" and "the day of salvation" mean here not the present life of each man but the present Christian dispensation. St. Paul is quoting Isaiah's prophecy of Christ of the acceptable time and the day of salvation, and he says this time has come now in this Christian dispensation. CHAPTER XI MINISTRY IN THE UNSEEN LIFE § 1 Is it allowable here to make a venture of faith and speculate on a matter of which we cannot give definite proof? There is a beautiful old allegory of KNOWLEDGE, the strong mailed knight, tramping over the great table-land that he surveyed, and testing and making his ground sure at every step, while beside him, just above the ground, moved the white-winged angel FAITH. Side by side they moved, till the path broke short off on the verge of a vast precipice. Knowledge could go no further. There was no footing for the ponderous knight; but the white-winged angel rose majestically from the ground and moved across the chasm, where her companion could not follow. Our path has broken off--knowledge can go no further. May we speculate with faith on something we cannot prove? I am thinking of a speculation very dear to myself, about that progress of our dear ones in the presence of Christ. Will not much of that progress in the life beyond come through unselfish ministry to others? Let us see what reason there is to hope it. Think of all the true hearts who have lived on earth the Christ life of unselfish helpfulness. Can you imagine them never helping any one there, where growth in love is God's highest aim for them? Think of our Lord's mysterious preaching in the Life after Death and remember that some of the best known teachers of the early Church believed that the apostles and others had followed His example. (See Chapter IV, p. 59.) Think that there are countless millions in the World of the Departed born in heathen lands, born in Christian lands, who had no chance on earth of knowing Christ in a way to win their love for Him. Think, how shall His command be fulfilled by His Church, "Go preach the good news to every creature"--EVERY creature. What a mockery it seems with the heathen dying half a million every week if no work for Christ goes on in the Unseen! If millions of those Hindoos who have died without the Gospel would have accepted it, do you think it is not being taught to any of them now? If the men of ancient Tyre and Sidon would have repented at the teaching and work of Christ, if the mighty works had been done in them, do you not think He has taken care since that the men of Tyre and Sidon should have their chance? If the heathen Socrates, and Plato, and Marcus Aurelius, and Epictetus would have fallen at His feet as their Master and Friend--and you know they would--do you think they have not learned to know Him by now? If honest hearts in our own land who have died repelled from Him through their ignorance and through stupid misrepresentations would have loved Him if they knew Him as He really is, do you think that no one is helping them to understand Him now? Can we doubt that somehow within the Veil they will learn more fully of His tender love? And judging from what we know of God's methods on earth, is it unreasonable to think that they will learn it from their brethren? True, God might help them by means of the angels. But in God's dealings with men's souls on earth not angels but men were the helpers He gave them. Even in the stupendous miracle of the conversion of St. Paul it was a man (Ananias) whom God sent to help him. § 2 Here comes an interesting question about the doctrine of Election. To the generation before us it was a horrible doctrine clashing with all sense of fairness or right. Men said it meant that God decreed certain men to eternal Heaven and certain others to eternal Hell by His own arbitrary will. The stern revolt of Conscience at length sent us back to study our Bibles more carefully. We found that in the first recorded case of election Abraham was called _for the good of others_ "that in thee and in thy seed shall all the families of the earth be blessed." We saw reason to believe that Abraham's case was a type of all other elect--_elect for the service of others_. We found that the Bible consistently and throughout affirms that when "God calls or separates one man to Himself it is for the good of other men; that when He selects one family it is that all families should be blessed; that when He chooses one nation it is for the welfare of all nations; that when He elects and establishes a church it is for the spiritual benefit of the world. No man, no family, no nation, no church possesses any gift or privilege or superior capacity or power for its own use and welfare alone but for the general good." So we learned that God's word is true in spite of our stupid misunderstanding of it and that this doctrine of Election rightly understood is one of the noblest things in the whole Bible. Now comes my question. Are God's elect in the Hereafter life still "_elect for the service of others_"? Are those loving souls who are joyfully accepting Christ's service here,--destined for a still more glorious service in this ministry in the Unseen--the "first-fruits" of a great harvest which through them the Lord will reap in the Hereafter? Will some be just saved, saved so as by fire, saved "by the skin of their teeth," as we say, missing the noble destiny of the "elect," the joy of being a blessing to their race? § 3 "You have preached your last sermon," said one to Frederick Denison Maurice as he was dying. "Aye," he said; "but only my last sermon in THIS life." He believed he was going through the veil to preach to men. I believe it too, though I cannot prove it, nay, even though there be difficulties in the way of believing it. And many men greater than we are believing it, impelled by the stirring of Divine impulses within. Do not think of it as merely a work for preachers and teachers. Every brave boy here who is trying to do right, every poor woman who is learning to love, every one who is blessing the world by kindly unselfishness, is helping on the Kingdom of God on earth and will be helping on the Kingdom of God beyond. Surely there will be scope for them all. When you think of that great mingled crowd that is daily passing through the gates of death, all sorts and conditions--from the strong saints of God to the poor children brought up in homes of sin--you need have little doubt that there is room for service. If it be true, ah! think of it, you who are trying to forget yourselves, and live for others--think of the blessedness of your life in the waiting land. With the weak and the ignorant needing to be helped; with the little children needing to be mothered and loved; with the great heathen world, who have gone within the veil, never yet having heard of Christ. § 4 If it be true, think how it takes away the reproach of "glorified selfishness," which many attribute to the Christians' glad hope. Think how it helps in the perplexities about God's dealings when young and useful lives are taken from the earth. An angry mourner said to me recently, "I don't believe God has anything to do with it, else why should He take away a noble life like that and leave all these stupid useless people in the world?" I told him of my hope of this ministry in the Unseen and suggested that perhaps God did not want ONLY the stupid useless people. And think especially how it deepens the importance of our life on earth to feel that it has a bearing on our usefulness for ever. The more we increase our talents here, the more we shall be able to help our Saviour there. He Himself suggests this in the parables of the Talents and the Pounds. "Thy pound has gained five, I will set thee over five cities. Thy pound has gained ten, I will set thee over ten cities. I will give thee a larger and nobler work hereafter." Is not that an incentive to stir one's blood? The more I grow in love, in unselfishness, in knowledge of God, in righteousness of life, the more use I shall be to my dear Lord and to my brethren for ever. CHAPTER XII CONCLUSION So we close our thoughts about the NEAR HEREAFTER, the life immediately after death. The FAR Hereafter--the great mystery of Judgment and Hell and Heaven belongs to a later section. Here we have been dealing only with the life going on to-day in the Unseen--side by side with our present life. Ah! that wonderful Paradise land--that wonderful Church of God in the Unseen--with its vast numbers, with its enthusiastic love, with all its grand leaders who have been trained on earth. WE AND THEY together form the great continuous Church of God. We are all ONE LONG PROCESSION; they at the head in the Unseen. What a life it is! What a work it has! Said I not well it was a Gospel of the Hereafter, a good news of God! It will make you solemn as you feel that character passes on unchanged. That is good; but it will do more. It will take away the sting and the horror of death. It is not the pain of dying that makes that horror when I come to die. After all, men bear far more pain without flinching. It is not merely the parting for the present with those I love. We have constantly to do that when they go to other lands without breaking our hearts about it. It is not even any doubt about a future Resurrection at the Second Advent. I may believe that, and yet get little comfort from it. That Advent seems so far away. It may be next week; but it may be 5,000 years hence, and meantime what of my life? Sleep, unconsciousness, darkness? What? No wonder I should shrink from that mysterious unknown. But teach me the ancient Scriptural doctrine of the PARADISE life as it appears in the Bible. Teach me that in the hour after death I shall pass into the Unseen with myself, with my full life, my feelings, my character, my individuality, and in that solemn hour death will lose its horror. Is not that a Gospel? In the awful days of bereavement it will bring God's peace, and it will bring elevation of character. "Where your treasure is, there will your heart be also." "He is not dead, the child of your affection, But gone into that school Where he no longer needs your poor protection, And Christ Himself doth rule." You think of your boy as serving at one side of the veil, and you at the other; each in the presence of Christ. You think how he is being lovingly trained and disciplined. How all his abilities are being used in self-sacrificing deeds for others. Not in a glorified selfishness in thanking God that he is safe, though his brethren be lost. Ah, no! but in perfect self-sacrifice, even as his Lord. You think of him as learning to fight for righteousness--to help the weak, aye, mayhap, to go out--God's brave young knight--out into the darkness after some one who has missed of Christ on earth. Realize that and your whole life must perforce grow nobler. And realize that you will not have to wait for the Resurrection or the Advent to meet him and learn all. When your death comes, he will be waiting for you. He has been praying and watching over you. He will tell you of all that has been happening. And together in Christ's loving presence, side by side, you will work and wait, and help your brethren; and look forward to the glory of the heaven that is still in the future. Is not that a Gospel worth the preaching--a Gospel to stir our souls and to comfort our hearts for those "whom we have loved long since and lost a while"? Thank God for the blessed doctrine of the Paradise life! Thank God for all His poor penitent servants departed this life in His faith and fear! PART II The Far Hereafter I THE JUDGMENT We touch lightly on the subject of the FAR Hereafter which is still away in the future for all humanity. One day the Intermediate Life will close. The end of this age will come at the Second Advent. And at this crisis our Lord places the great drama of the Judgment and the final decision of each man's destiny. Whether it will be a great spectacular event such as His picture suggests, with all humanity assembled and the Judge on the great White Throne, or whether His picture is figurative, we cannot affirm. We can only gather that it will be a final judgment and that it will be a judgment according to finally developed character, when men shall be clearly seen to belong to the right hand or the left, the sheep or the goats, to the wheat or the tares, to the good fish to be gathered up or the bad fish to be thrown away. Then come the final stages in the history of humanity, Hell and Heaven. II HELL Here we touch the awful part of our study. In Christ's great drama of the Judgment those on the left hand are passing out into the darkness, and we see them no more. In that darkness there seems no ray of hope. So far as we can learn, it means irrevocable ruin and loss. In spite of God's love and pain for them on Earth and in Hades, they seem at last to have destroyed in themselves everything of good, and so placed themselves beyond possibility of restoration for ever. The judgment has clearly the ring of finality. There seems nothing more to be said. And so, with pain in our hearts responding to the pain of the Father, we are forced to leave them in the darkness and mystery in which Scripture enshrouds them. This is, I think, all that can justifiably be said. The reticence and reserve of Scripture forbids any definite doctrine of Hell. And this is all that would have needed to be said if men had kept to that reticence and reserve of Scripture, and to all further questionings contented themselves with the answer that the Judge of all the earth will do right. But they have not so contented themselves. It is hard to blame them. For beyond the main facts about the doom of the impenitent there are here and there through the Bible many tantalizing hints perplexing and difficult to reconcile with each other, but very tempting to follow out. By emphasizing certain of these and ignoring or dwelling more lightly on certain others which seem to contradict them, men have formulated definite doctrines about Hell, differing widely from each other but each with apparently strong Scriptural support. This is only what may happen in any department of study. The strict rule of evidence in any enquiry is that _all_ the facts must be studied and that no theory shall be accepted as entirely trustworthy while any of the evidence remains unaccounted for. There are three theories which hold the ground to-day, each of them seemingly with much evidence in its favour, but each of them seriously unsatisfactory as conflicting with other evidence. (1) The theory of Everlasting Torment--that every soul which has missed of Christ shall be plunged into a Hell of torment and sin for ever and ever, growing worse and worse and lower and lower through all the ages of Eternity. (2) The theory of Universalism--that in the ages of the far future through the stern loving discipline of God all men shall at length be saved. (3) The theory of Conditional Immortality--that all souls who fail of Eternal Life shall be punished not by Everlasting Torment, but by annihilation and the loss of God and Heaven for ever. At first sight it seems almost impossible that such conflicting theories could be formed out of the same Bible. But a little consideration of the evidence and of the power of prejudice and preconceptions in estimating evidence makes it easier to understand. The main trend of all Scripture teaching is that it shall be well, gloriously well, with the good, and that it shall be evil, unutterably evil, with the wicked. That there is a mysterious and awful malignity attaching to sin--that to be in sin means to be in misery and ruin in this life or any other life--and that sin persisted in tends to utter and irretrievable ruin. No arguments about the love and power of God to save to the uttermost can cancel the fact of the free-will of man or the plain statements of Scripture confirmed beyond question by the loving Lord Himself as to the awful fate of the finally impenitent. But running through all this dark background of Scripture is a curious golden thread of prophecy that evil shall not be eternal in God's universe. One turns to it perplexed with wondering hope. For however fully Conscience recognizes the righteousness of a terrible retribution for sin, there is in all thoughtful minds a shrinking from the thought that Evil shall be as permanent as Good in the universe of the All-holy God--that any evil power can exist unendingly side by side with Him and unendingly resist Him; that Hell and Heaven, Satan and God shall co-exist for all eternity. This is almost unthinkable to thoughtful men. It is a Dualism repugnant to all our ideals of God. And this golden thread, running through the Old and New Testaments alike, confirms this thought, in its dim vision of a golden age somewhere away in the far future--away it would seem beyond the dark vision of Hell--when evil shall have vanished out of the Universe for ever and "God shall be all in all" (1 Cor. xv. 28)--when there shall come "the times of the Restoration of all things which God hath promised by the mouth of all His holy prophets since the world began" (Acts iii. 21). Naturally there is danger of people emphasizing strongly either one of these trends of Scripture and gathering certain proof texts according to their own prejudices and preconceptions of what ought to be. "The way in which some people read their Bibles," says Mr. Ruskin, "is like the way in which the old monks thought that hedgehogs ate grapes. They rolled themselves over the grapes as they lay on the ground and whatever first stuck to their spikes they carried off and ate." If the grapes are of various kinds as are the passages of Scripture we cannot judge thus of the taste of the vintage. To get the true taste of the grapes we must press them in cluster. To get the true meaning of Scripture we must study the whole trend of Scripture. Before we can accept any doctrine from separate passages of Scripture we must assure ourselves that it is in harmony, not only with other passages but also with the ruling thoughts which run through all Scripture, God's unutterable holiness, God's awful hatred of sin and stern denunciations of doom against the impenitent, God's love, God's unchangeableness, God's reasonableness and fairness, and the mysterious golden thread of hope which runs through all. Now we glance as briefly as possible at the three theories referred to. I _The theory of Everlasting Torment and Everlasting Sin_. This theory keeps with Scripture in asserting the fatal and irrevocable result of unrepented sin--but it goes beyond the reserve of Scripture in defining that result and so defining it as to impugn the character of God. It teaches that all who are condemned in the Judgment are doomed to a life of endless torment, in the company of devils--forsaken of God. Millions of millions of ages shall see this punishment no whit nearer to its end. It must go on for ever and ever and ever. It takes perhaps a child's or a woman's heart to realize the horror of that thought. I remember as a child reading a Sunday-school book that helped me to realize the meaning of this "for ever and ever in hell." I was to imagine a huge forest, and a tiny insect coming from the farthest planet and biting an atom out of one of the leaves, and carrying it away to his home, the journey taking one thousand years. Then I was to imagine the ages that must elapse before that whole leaf was carried off. Then the stupendous time before the whole tree would be gone. Then, as my brain reeled at the thought, I was to look forward to the carrying away of the whole forest, and from that to the carrying away of the whole world. Then came the awful sentence in italics, _Even then eternity would but have begun_. I suppose God will forgive the people who wrote that book for children if they repent, but I don't feel much like forgiving them. I can remember still lying awake in the night and crying as I thought of the lost souls in Hell as my poor little brain reeled at the thought of the journeys of that wretched insect and of those whom God kept alive to suffer for ever and ever and ever. Then as one grew older came the further horror that these "lost" are kept alive not only to suffer but to sin everlastingly. They are to go on increasing in sin for ever and ever and ever in the universe of the All-holy God. One tests this by the ruling thoughts of Scripture. One thinks of God's holiness. One thinks of the golden thread of hope. One wonders what it means that Christ came to "destroy the works of the devil"[1] and to destroy the devil (bruise the serpent's head[2]) and how one day "God shall be all in all" if straight opposite for all eternity shall be Satan's Kingdom of misery and sin. Surely Christ has not failed! And yet--and yet--what shall we say? And what shall we say of God's fatherhood? Shall we say as some do that as Judge He must do cruel things which as Father He would shrink from? God forbid! The Judge and the Father are one. Men would never use such sophistry about the character of God if it were put into plain words. "Ye must ken," said a godly old Scotchman, "that the Almighty may often have to do in His offeeshial capacity what He would scorn to do as a private individual!" I quote this not with flippancy but with stern indignation. That is baldly what such sophistry means. Clearly one who insists on this doctrine ought at least to be absolutely certain that Scripture leaves him no escape from it. Now the conclusion which a thorough study of the question leads to is this;--that Scripture nowhere definitely affirms that the sufferings of the lost _shall not be_ everlasting, and nowhere definitely affirms that they _shall be_ everlasting. Even that if it be true is some relief. We should no longer be forced to believe of God what Conscience declares to be unworthy of Him. But is it true? I can already see the Bible turned over for the dark array of texts beginning with "He that believeth not shall be damned," "How can ye escape the damnation of Hell?" "These shall go away into everlasting punishment," etc. Let me explain. If we examine the Bible carefully we shall find that, while there are a great many clear proofs of the certainty and awfulness of Hell, the proofs of this theory of Everlasting Torment are not much to be depended on. Practically they can all be gathered into three groups. In the first the chief word is DAMN or DAMNATION. In the second the chief word is HELL. In the third the chief word is EVERLASTING. It is not too much to say that if these three sets of passages were removed from the Bible nobody would think of believing in everlasting torment. Now let me make the assertion straight out--There is no word in the original language of the Bible that at all justifies the use of either of these words in the meaning that we have attached to it--and therefore the Revised Version of the Bible has practically swept them all away. § 1 Take first the words Damn, Damnation which convey to us the idea of doom to a Hell of never-ending torment and never-ending sin. The original word conveyed no such idea to our Lord or the Apostles. It conveyed no such idea to the translators of the Authorized Version. When they translated it Damn and Damnation they did not at all mean what we now mean. There are two Greek words, _krinô_ which means simply _to judge_, and _kata-krinô_ which means to _judge adversely_, to _condemn_, and it is sometimes the first and sometimes the second of these words which is translated "Damn." Why is it so translated? Surely the translators did not think so evil of God as to believe that He could never judge a man without condemning him and that He could never condemn him except to everlasting torment. Not at all. They had no thought of this. The English word "damn" at that time had no such awful meaning as has grown into it in our day through the wide-spread influence of the theory which I am criticizing. It simply meant what the Greek word meant. I find an interesting illustration of this in the Wycliffe Bible in the passage about the woman taken in adultery. Jesus saith, "Woman, hath no man damned thee?" "No man, Lord." "Neither do I damn thee." That is to say the English word Damn at that time only meant "_condemn_." But words are dangerous things if not carefully watched, owing to their tendency to change their meaning as a language grows. A new, darker meaning has grown on to the English word since. Once an innocent word, it has now become dangerous and misleading. Therefore, the Revisers have swept it away, and _the words damn and damnation have now vanished entirely and for ever out of the pages of the English Bible_. Unfortunately the public do not read the Revised Version. With this explanation I ask the reader to turn back to his Bible. In our sense of the word did our Lord say, "He that believeth not shall be damned"? Most certainly not. He said that he should be _condemned_ for wilfully disbelieving, but He did not say to what he should be condemned, nor for how long. I should condemn you for doing a selfish act, but that would hardly mean sending you to endless torment. Did He say that those who had done evil should rise to the resurrection of damnation? (1 John v. 29). No. He said, "to the resurrection of judgment." (See R. V.) Did St. Paul say, "He that doubteth (about eating certain meats) is damned if he eat"? (Rom. xiv. 23). Did he say that a church widow should have damnation for marrying again? (1 Tim. v. 12). Of course not; the word only means judgment or condemnation. There is no thought at all in it of this endless Hell as the Revised Version has plainly shown. So we see that at any rate all these texts about "damnation" can no longer be used in proof of everlasting torment and everlasting sin. § 2 Something similar is true about the texts whose chief word is "Hell." The word "hell" occurs eighteen times in the Authorized Version. Once it is a translation of a Greek word Tartarus (2 Peter ii. 4) cast down to Hell to be reserved "_unto the Day of Judgment_." That certainly was not everlasting. Five times it is a translation of the word Hades whose meaning we already know, and which certainly did not mean everlasting. The other twelve times it is a translation of the word Gehenna used by our Lord, and no scholar with the least regard for his reputation would dream of stating that our Lord certainly meant it to convey the idea of endlessness. It was the name of a horrible valley outside Jerusalem where things were cast out to be burnt, to keep the city pure. The Jewish prophets took the word as a metaphor to express the fate of wicked men. From it they drew their images used by our Lord of "the worm that dieth not and the fire that is not quenched" (Mark x. 46). To be in danger of Gehenna was to be in danger of a hereafter doom suggested by this dread place. Our Lord simply took up the vague Jewish word and did not define it. What exactly had He in His mind when He used this word? This is a question of terrible importance. He certainly meant something very stern and awful. He seems to indicate also something final and irrevocable. But there is absolutely no reason to believe that He meant to convey the idea in our minds of a vast prison, in which the souls of the lost are pierced through with agony for ever and ever. You ask, How can I know what He meant? How could I know what Shakespeare meant by a certain word? I should read up all the books and letters of Shakespeare's times in which the word occurs, and whatever it commonly meant to the people of Shakespeare's time I should accept as being what Shakespeare meant. That looks sensible, does it not? Well, a very interesting investigation has been made by various scholars. They have examined all the existing Jewish writings where the word Gehenna was used from 300 B. C. to 300 A. D. Then they have examined the Jewish Talmuds which run on to the fourth and fifth century. A modern English scholar, Dr. Dewes, says (_Plea for a New Translation_, p. 23): "Every passage has been carefully examined which is quoted in the works of Lightfoot, Schoetgen, Buxtorf, Castell, Schindler, Glass, Bartoloccius, Ugalino and Nork, and the result of the whole examination is this: _there are only two passages which even a superficial reader could consider to be corroborative of the assertion that the Jews understood Gehenna to be a place of everlasting torment_." I give a few specimens from the Talmuds. "Gehenna is ordained of old because of sins." "The ungodly will be judged in Gehenna _against the day of judgment_." "The ungodly shall be judged in Gehenna _until the righteous shall say of them, We have seen enough_." "The judgment of the ungodly is for twelve months." "Gehenna is nothing but a day in which the impious will be burned." "The sinners ... shall descend into Gehenna; at the end of twelve months the body shall be consumed and the soul burned up and the wind shall scatter it under the feet of the just." The reader sees, of course, that the vague Jewish opinions have no authority for us except to help us to get at the meaning of our Lord when speaking to Jews about Gehenna. We may assume that He used their familiar word in the sense in which they would naturally understand it. They certainly would understand Him to proclaim some terrible doom, probably also an irrevocable doom. But can any one affirm that they must have understood Him to mean endless torment, in the face of this evidence--and its powerful confirmation by the greatest of all modern Jewish students of the Talmud, Emanuel Deutsch. "There is no everlasting damnation in the Talmud" (_Remains_, p. 53), and again, "There is not a word in the Talmud which supports the damnable dogma of endless torment" (Conversation with Mr. Cox, _Salvator Mundi_, p. 72). The American Revised Version has very wisely removed the word Hell altogether on account of the misleading associations connected with it. It substitutes the word Gehenna, leaving the reader to ascertain its meaning. The English Revisers have retained the word Hell and put the word Gehenna beside it in the margin. I think this was a pity, as it will be hard for the ordinary reader to dissociate the word Hell from the theory which has unwarrantably grown on to it. But at any rate I think we may safely say that no reader who understands the position will ever again use the texts in which our Lord speaks of Hell to prove the absolute certainty of the theory of Endless Torment and Endless Sin. So vanishes another group of the proof texts for this theory. § 3 Now take the group of texts with the word "everlasting." It is surely significant that the Revisers have completely removed this word also in every case and substituted for it the word "eternal," a less definite word and which in scholarly usage means rather the opposite of temporal--that which is above the sphere of time and space--that which belongs to the other world. At any rate the fact that they have removed it in every case shows that the word "everlasting" did not seem to them a correct translation. There is only space for a brief explanation. The original word is the adjective _aiônos_ (aionios) (Eng. aeonian), coming from the noun _aiôn_ (aion) (Eng. aeon), an age, an epoch, a long period of time. This noun cannot mean eternity for it is repeatedly used by St. Paul in the plural "aeons" and "aeons of aeons." As we speak of great periods of time, "the Ice Age," "the Stone Age," etc., so the Bible speaks of "this age" (aeon), "the coming age" (aeon), and "the end of the age," etc. These aeons or ages are thought of in Scripture as vast periods past, present and future in which the Divine purpose is working itself out, _e. g._, God's purpose is the purpose of the ages (aeons) (Eph. iii. 11). Christ's name is above every name not only in this age (aeon) but in that which is to come (Eph. i. 21). "That in the ages (aeons) to come He might shew," etc. From this noun, then, conies the adjective _aiônios_ (aionios)--aeonian which may be defined "age long" or "belonging to the ages," etc. Any Greek scholar will assert unhesitatingly that of itself it does not mean endless or everlasting. Sometimes, as when applied to God, it may be thus translated but only because the meaning is inherent in the noun to which it is applied. The word _aiônios_ of itself would not positively prove the endlessness of God. This adjective when applied to any thing or any state of being cannot of itself be used to prove its endlessness. It is worth notice too that in the Septuagint Greek Bible, the version usually quoted in the Gospels and Epistles, this word _aiônios_ is frequently applied to things that have ended, _e. g._, the gift of the land of Canaan, the priesthood of Aaron, the kingdom of David, the temple at Jerusalem, the daily offerings, etc. When the noun always means a finite period and the adjective is applied both to that which is ended and to that which is endless it would surely be poor scholarship if the Revisers allowed the word "everlasting" to remain as its translation, or if students of theology should argue from it the endlessness of anything. To which we may add that there are Greek adjectives and phrases which _do definitely mean_ "endless" and which are never used in the Bible of men's fate in the Hereafter. Be it observed that all this does not prove that the punishment of the future ages _may not_ be everlasting. It only proves that Scripture nowhere asserts unmistakably that _it must be so_. It simply asserts that it is aeonian. The thoughtful advocates of Everlasting Torment are of course aware of all this. But they honestly feel that in spite of the indefiniteness of the adjective, our Lord has fixed His meaning beyond question in the one passage that has become so famous as the great proof text in this controversy, "These shall go away into _aeonian_ punishment, but the righteous into _aeonian_ life" (Matt. xxv. 46). Very reasonably they say, "If the word asserts everlastingness in the one case it must also in the other." The answer is that the word _of itself_ cannot assert everlastingness in either case. If this word were our only proof of everlasting life then everlasting life would be a doubtful matter. But the everlastingness of that life like the everlastingness of God is evident all over the Bible quite apart from this. The words here simply tell that the one shall go into the aeonian life and the other into aeonian punishment, _i. e._, that the one shall go into the life of the future age and the other into the punishment of the future age without exactly specifying the duration of either. I quite feel that the close connection of the words suggests at least the probability that one is as lasting as the other. Yet even that consideration is weakened by asking if people are willing to apply it to St. Paul's statement, "As in Adam _all_ die even so in Christ shall _all_ be made alive" (the context suggests eternal life). I would point out, too, that a somewhat similar verse is in the Septuagint Bible of our Lord's day in Hab. iii. 6, where the (aeonian) everlasting mountains were scattered before God, whose ways are (aeonian) everlasting. Yet it does not prove that the one is as endless as the other. And in Rom. xvi. 25-26 the mystery hid in the (aeonian) times "before the world began" is now manifested according to the command of the (aeonian) eternal God. But the age "before the world began" is ended. At any rate I must leave the matter here. I have no space for fuller statement. If any man feels that a world of increasing sin and awful torment growing no nearer to its end after millions and millions of ages does not disturb his conscience or the thoughts of God which he has learned from the whole trend of Scripture this text will probably weigh strongly with him in spite of all that I have said. But to him who is tortured by such a thought of God and yet feels that Scripture binds him to it, it must surely be some relief to feel that even in this great bulwark text of Everlasting Torment our Lord only asserts that these shall go away into the aeonian punishment or chastisement[3] whatever that may mean. Reluctantly, impelled by a sense of duty, I have dealt with this theory more fully than with the others. Should any godly people fear that I am lightening an awful deterrent to sin let me say what long experience has taught me of the danger of this common theory. It is making sad loving hearts whom God has not made sad and making earnest Christians, who feel forced to believe it, perplexed about the love and justice of God and the prophecies of the final victory of good. It is forcing into the background the true and awfully solemn teaching about Hell which ought to be prominent in all our pulpits. When men cannot see any possible reconciliation between the doctrine of God's love and their doctrine of Hell they are very apt to find an easy way out. "We cannot reconcile them," said a young layman to me one day, "therefore we drop out one of them--Hell." Do not be shocked at it. Many besides my young layman are unconsciously doing it. Nowadays more than ever we, clergy, are teaching much about the love of God. But nowadays more than ever we are holding our tongues about Hell. We know the horrible idea which Hell commonly conveys. Therefore we keep it in the background trusting that our hearers will leave it there during the sermon on God's love. But they do not, and so we are very unconvincing about both doctrines. Again, this common theory of Hell is so unreasonable that it has lost its power as a deterrent. No teaching from which Conscience revolts can long hold its power over men. The rough common sense, the rough moral sense of careless men makes them reject it and treat it as a subject of jest. When men can stupidly laugh together over jests about hell-fire, when the devil is presented as a clown in the pantomime it indicates something very wrong in the teaching. No doctrine has any real hold on the crowd when they can lightly jest about it. And because of their unbelief in this false notion of Hell they are ceasing to believe in any Hell at all--ceasing to believe in that awful real Hell which is taught in the Bible and of which God is giving some men foretastes even in this life. And this false notion of Hell tends to shake men's belief in the reality of Heaven. For if the redeemed could enjoy their bliss in Heaven, knowing that myriads are existing for ever and ever in endless suffering and still worse in endless sin, one feels that they have grown so selfish and opposite to Christ that they have no business in any heaven. We dare not leave out the love of God and we dare not leave out the doctrine of Hell. Both are certainly true. Therefore they must be capable of reconciliation. The reconciliation must not come in ignoring Hell or believing in a kindly, good-natured God who does not judge severely about moral character and who only cares that His child should stop crying and be happy. We are having too much of this sentimentalism nowadays. It is a miserable misconception of that awful holiness which is "of purer eyes than to behold iniquity." It would never explain the need of Christ dying on the cross to put away sin. Whatever reconciliation we find here or hereafter it must have at bottom God's unutterable hatred of sin but also God's unutterable love and pain over every sinful soul which He has made. This theory of Endless Torment and Endless Sin certainly does not appear to satisfy this test, and it has in addition to face the stern revolt of Reason and Conscience. II _The theory of Universalism, i. e., that all men shall at length be saved_. This opinion is based on the more hopeful side of Scripture that we have referred to, but it ignores or explains away what contradicts it in the darker and sterner side. If one could forget that, it would be the most inspiring of all the guesses that have been made. As presented by its best exponents, such men as Allen and Jukes and Cox, it is wonderfully attractive and at first sight seems to satisfy many of the conditions of the problem. It takes account of a just and awful retribution for every sin, and takes account also of the mysterious hope in the Hereafter which runs through the Bible. It believes that the power of God has infinite resources and that the love of God has unwearying persistence and that no soul can ultimately resist such resources and such love. Even Hell itself it deems God's final effort when all other means have failed. The reader who thinks there can be no possible excuse for such a theory should glance at a few of the passages quoted in its favour: "God who wills that _all men_ should be saved" (1 Tim. ii. 4), and "who wills that _all men_ should come to repentance" (2 Peter iii. 9). And this will or determination of God is "_immutable_" (Heb. vi. 7). Again, "Now is the judgment of this world, now shall the Prince of this world be cast out, AND I, if I be lifted up, will draw _all men_ unto Myself" (John xii. 31, 32). "_All flesh_ shall see the salvation of God" (Luke iii. 6). "His grace bringing salvation to all men" (Titus ii. 11). "We trust in the living God who is the Saviour of _all men, especially_ of those who believe" (1 Tim. iv. 10). "He is the propitiation _not for our sins only, but also_ for the sins of the _whole world_" (1 John ii. 2). "He was manifested that He might _destroy_ the works of the devil" (1 John iii. 8) [and _destroy_ the devil (bruise the serpent's head) Gen. iii. 15]. "He shall _overcome_ the strong man armed (the devil) and take away his armour and divide his spoils" (Luke xi. 21, 22). "He was manifested to _put away_ sin by the sacrifice of Himself" (Heb. ix. 26). "God hath not cast away His people whom He foreknew ... and so _all Israel shall be saved_" (Rom. xii. 25-33). "The times of the _Restoration of all things_ which God hath promised by the mouth of all His holy prophets since the world began" (Acts iii. 21). "As in Adam _all_ die, even so in Christ shall _all_ be made alive. But every man in his own order: Christ the first-fruits; afterwards they that are Christ's at His coming. Then cometh the end ... when all things have been _subjected unto Him_[4] ... then shall the Son also be subjected unto Him that put all things under Him that God may be all in all" (1 Cor. xv. 22-29). One can see how the constant study of such passages should lead men to an enthusiastic hope and lead them to study less carefully the stream of darker teaching that seemed to conflict with these. Whatever may be said against the advocates of Universalism we at least owe to them a clearer emphasizing of the mysterious hopefulness of Scripture as to the final triumph of good. But with deep reluctance one is bound to assert that the advocates of Universal Salvation to a great degree ignore or explain away unsatisfactorily much of the sterner side of the Bible. For amid all its hopefulness there is a steadily persistent note in Scripture, stern, awful, sorrowful, which seems impossible to reconcile with Universalism. There are clear and repeated assertions that some men at any rate will not be saved. It is St. Paul, the author of so many of those hopeful Scriptures quoted, who tells us "even weeping" of men "whose end is destruction" (Phil. iii. 19), and of those whose fate shall be "eternal destruction from the presence of God" (2 Thess. i. 9). It is the loving Christ Himself who said of one of His apostles, "It were good for that man if he had not been born" (St. Matt. xxvi. 24). We are warned back too by the tendency of character to grow permanent. And when we are told that God "willeth all men to be saved," and that God can do everything, we are forced to ask, Can God do contradictory things? Can God make a door to be open and shut at the same time? Can God make a thing to be and not to be at the same time? Can God make a man's will free to choose good or evil and yet secure that he shall certainly choose good at the last? One longs to believe that Universalism should be true, but to believe it we must ignore much of the evidence of Scripture. III _The theory of Conditional Immortality, i. e._, that all souls who fail of Eternal Life shall be punished not by Endless Torment, but by Annihilation and the loss of God and Heaven for ever and ever. This is another conjecture framed to escape the difficulties of the former two. It would be consistent both with retribution for evil and also with the final victory of good. That in the mysterious nature of things when the malignity of sin becomes incurable, a soul rotted through with sin might ultimately die out of existence; this opinion is at least allowable as a conjecture to escape from the theory of Endless Torment and Sin. It would in a real sense be an everlasting punishment, being an everlasting loss of Heaven and God. But it too is founded only on part of the evidence, on such texts as "The gift of God is eternal life," "He that hath the Son hath life," implying that immortality is a conditional thing granted only to those who are saved, and such texts as "eternal _destruction_ from the presence of God," and the idea of utter annihilation in such passages as "burn up the chaff with unquenchable fire." There is much in favor of it but there is much in Scripture which makes it difficult to accept it. And it contradicts straight out the wide-spread Christian belief in the essential immortality of the soul (though that belief also needs to be examined). At any rate it cannot claim authority as a theory of future punishment. IV These are the only conjectures offered us to solve the difficulties connected with Final Retribution. We find them all unsatisfactory. We have reached no definite doctrine of Hell. With the evidence at our disposal it seems impossible to do so. The failure of all attempts at reconciling the seeming contradictions of Scripture must suggest to us that the solution of this problem is beyond the range of our present powers. At any rate it is beyond the range of our present knowledge. Surely it is wise and reverent to think that this points to _some dealing of God beyond our human ken_ which will one day reconcile all the difficulties.[5] Our little guesses do not exhaust God's possibilities. Some day we shall find the answer in that land where we shall know even as we are known. And when we find it we know it will be consistent with our highest thoughts of God. I like to think that it is those who have grown closest to Christ in sympathy for sorrow and pain and who unlike us, know all the facts of the case, who are represented as joining in that glad shout hereafter, "Hallelujah! salvation and glory and power belong to our God, FOR TRUE AND RIGHTEOUS ARE HIS JUDGMENTS." Leave the manifestation of this to God. A wise old man once said, "God has a good deal of time to do things between this and the other side of eternity." This then is the conclusion of the whole matter. A return to the reserve and reticence of Scripture. But with this result of our study, that we feel no longer forced to believe of God that which Conscience declares to be unworthy of Him. We are set free to believe that the Judge of all the earth will do right--that Hell as well as Heaven is within the confines of His dominion--that evil shall not last for ever; that in spite of all its conflicting evidence the trend of Scripture moves towards the golden age, the final victory of good. Thus we leave it. In our final vision of humanity in Christ's great drama of the Judgment, those on the left are passing into the outer darkness and as they pass the curtain falls behind them and we see them no more. We know not what is passing in that outer darkness where there is "weeping and gnashing of teeth." We have no grounds to believe that any soul there is being born again through sorrow and shame, that any spoiled and deformed life is being remoulded in that awful crucible of God. But as we watch the awful shadows of that outer darkness, there comes beyond it on the far horizon the quivering of a coming dawn. For that age of God's Gehenna is to have its end, and far away the day will dawn for which the whole creation groaneth and travaileth together; when evil shall have vanished out of the universe for ever; when death and Hell, the evil and the Evil One shall be cast into the lake of fire; when "at the name of Jesus every knee shall bow of things in Heaven and earth, and under the earth" (in the world of the dead). "And every tongue shall confess that Jesus Christ is Lord to the glory of God the Father." "Then cometh the end," says St. Paul, "when Christ shall deliver up the Kingdom to God, even the Father, when all His enemies shall be subjected unto Him. And when all His enemies have been subjected unto Him, then shall the Son also Himself be subjected unto Him that put all things under Him, that God may be all in all." That is what shall be. One day, somewhere in the far mysterious future the "purpose of the ages" shall be accomplished. Evil shall have vanished out of the universe for ever and God shall be all in all. One day again it shall be as at the creation when "God looked on everything that He had made and behold it was very good." How? We know not and we need not know. We need not be able to assert dogmatically how He will accomplish His purpose. We need not be able to assert that all men shall be saved or that all who are not will be annihilated. But we must be able with trustful hearts to assert God's love and God's power and the final abolishing of evil, even though we can only do it with the poet's vagueness: At last I heard a voice upon the slope Cry to the summit, "Is there any hope?" To which an answer pealed from that high land, But in a tongue no man could understand, And on the glimmering summit far withdrawn God made Himself an awful rose of dawn. [1] 1 John iii. 8. [2] Gen. iii. 15. [3] _kolasis_--chastisement, correction, punishment (see Greek Lexicon). [4] The same Greek words are used of His enemies' subjection to Christ as of Christ's subjection to the Father suggesting that it would be of the same kind. [5] In other antinomies of Scripture, _e. g._, Man's free will and God's foreknowledge, we have to take refuge in a similar belief. III HEAVEN At last "I" has reached the goal. In that far future comes the glad finale of human history, the realization of the eternal thought in the mind of God from the beginning. As the unwritten play of a great dramatist lies in his mind before it is uttered or acted, with every problem solved and every contingency provided for--so we believe the whole extended drama lay in the Eternal Mind--the path of struggle and pain--the cross-currents of human will--the glorious conclusion of it all. Nothing was an after-thought. Now at last Christ "shall see of the travail of His soul and shall be satisfied." Aye--satisfied. It was worth the cost. Worth the Incarnation of the Eternal Son--worth the sorrow and the pain--worth being misunderstood and shamed and mocked and scourged and spitted on and crucified--this final satisfaction of His tender love. "Eye hath not seen nor ear heard nor hath it entered into the heart of man to conceive the things that God hath prepared. They shall hunger no more nor thirst any more, neither shall the sun light on them nor any burning heat, for the Lamb which is in the midst of the Throne shall shepherd them and lead them to eternal fountains of waters, and God shall wipe away every tear from their eyes. There shall be no more death--no mourning nor crying nor pain any more, for the former things--the old bad things--have passed away." That is the end of God's purpose for men. Surely it will be the wondering cry of the angels for ever, "Behold how He loved them!" I. WHAT IS MEANT BY HEAVEN? To us with our limited faculties Heaven is practically inconceivable. We have no experience that would help us to realize it. Even the inspired writers can but touch the thought vaguely in allegory and gorgeous vision, piling up images of earthly things precious and beautiful--thrones and crowns and gates of pearl and golden streets in the heavenly city "coming down from God prepared as a bride adorned for her husband." The only clear thought we have about external things in Heaven is that "I" who lived here in an earthly body and in the Near Hereafter lived a spirit life "absent from the body"--shall in that Far Hereafter have a spiritual body analogous we suppose to the body "I" had on earth. Not the poor body, certainly, which rotted in the grave, "ashes to ashes, dust to dust" but a "glorified body," and yet it would seem having some strange mysterious connection with the earthly body. As the oak is the resurrection body of the acorn, and the lily of the ugly little bulb that decayed in the ground, "so also is the resurrection of the dead. It is sown in corruption, it is raised in incorruption; it is sown in weakness, it is raised in power; it is sown a natural body, it is raised a spiritual body." That gives very little information but it gives some tangible idea to grasp. Beyond this there is no hold for imagination. But as we saw in the earlier chapters on the Intermediate Life I am still "I," the same conscious self through the whole life of Earth. and Hades and Heaven, and therefore the _real life, the inner life_ can still be understood. So when we enquire what can be known about the meaning of Heaven--at the very start I strike the key-note of the thoughts that follow, in the words of Christ Himself, "The Kingdom of God is within you." Heaven is a something within you rather than without you. Heaven means character rather than possessions. The Kingdom of God is not meat and drink, but Righteousness and Peace and Joy in the Holy Ghost. That is the thought which I am trying to keep prominent all through this book. Hades life is dependent on character. Judgment is a sorting according to character. Heaven and Hell are tempers or conditions of character within us. They are not merely places to which God sends us arbitrarily. They are conditions which we make for ourselves. If God could send all men to Heaven, all men would be there. If God could keep all men from Hell, no one would be there. It is character that makes Heaven. It is character that makes Hell. They are states of mind that begin here, and are continued and developed there. I have known men who were in Hell here--they told me so--men of brutal character, men in delirium tremens, who saw devils grinning at them from the bed. That if continued and developed would mean Hell there. I have known sweet, unselfish lives who are in Heaven here. That continued and developed would mean Heaven there. You know how one could be in Heaven here. Do you remember these wonderful words of our Lord, "No man hath ascended into Heaven, only the Son of Man who is in Heaven"? Not _was_, not _shall be_, but is always in Heaven, because always in unselfish love--always in accord and in communion with God. So, you see, a man carries the beginning of Heaven and Hell within him, according to the state of his own heart. A selfish, godless man cannot have any Heaven so long as he remains selfish and godless. For Heaven consists in forgetting self, and loving God and man with heart and soul. § 2 Do you see, then, the mistake that people have been making in discussing what is meant by Heaven? In all ages--in all races--men have speculated about it, and their speculations have been largely coloured by their characters and temperaments. The Indian placed it in the Happy Hunting Ground. The Greeks placed it in the Islands of the Blest, where warriors rested after the battle. The Northman and the Mussulman had his equally sensual Heaven. And many Christians have as foolish notions as any one else. Some think that they win Heaven by believing something with their minds about our Lord's atonement. Some think they go to Heaven by soaring up through the air. Some of them, taking in its literal meaning the glorious imagery of the Apocalypse, picture to themselves streets of beaten gold and walls of flashing emerald and jasper, and the wearing of crowns and the singing of Psalms over and over again through all the ages of eternity. What is the fault in all such? That they do not understand what Heaven really means. They think of it as a something outside them which anybody could enjoy if he could only get there. They do not understand that Heaven means the joy of being in union with God--that the outward Heaven has no meaning till the inward Heaven has begun in ourselves. I need not point out to you that our immortal spirits would find little happiness in golden pavements and gates of pearl. People on this earth, who have their fill of gold and pearl, do not always gain much happiness from them. They are mere external things--they cannot give eternal joy, because that comes from within, not from without. It depends not on what we have, but on what we are, not on the riches of our possessions, but on the beauty of our lives. The gorgeous vision of the Apocalypse has its meaning, but it is not the carnal, literal meaning of foolish men. It tells of the bright river of the water of life; of glorified cities, where nothing foul, or mean, or ignoble shall dwell; of the white robes of our stainless purity; of the crowns and palms, the emblems of victory over temptation, of the throne which indicates calm mastery over sin; of the song and music and gladsome feasting to image faintly the abounding happiness and the fervent thanksgiving for the goodness of God. They are all mere symbols--mere earthly pictures with a heavenly meaning, and the meaning which lies behind them all is this: _The joy of Heaven means the inward joy; the joy of character; the joy of goodness; the joy of likeness to the Nature of God_. That is the highest joy of all--the only joy worthy of making Heaven for men who are made in the image of God. § 3 It is not difficult to show this to any true man or woman who is humbly trying to do beautiful deeds on earth. Of course, if a man be very selfish and worldly; a man who never tries to help another; a man who smiles at these things as unreal sentiment; who tells you that hard cash and success in life, and "to mind number one," as they say, are the chief things; a man who never feels his pulses beat faster at the story of noble deeds--you cannot absolutely prove to him that the joy of character is the highest happiness. You cannot prove to a blind man the beauty of the sunset sky; you cannot arouse a deaf man to enthusiasm about sweet music; and you cannot prove to an utterly selfish, earthly man that self-sacrifice and purity and heroism and love are the loveliest and the most desirable possessions--the sources of the highest and most lasting joy. But I feel sure that most of us, with all our faults, have in our better moments the desire and the admiration--aye, and the effort, too, after nobleness of life, and therefore we can understand this highest joy of Heaven. We have had experience sometimes, however rarely, of lovely deeds, and the sweet, pure joy that follows in their train. Well, whenever you have conquered some craving temptation or borne trouble for another's sake; when you have helped and brightened some poor life, and kept quiet in the shade that no one should know of it; when you have tried to do the right at heavy cost to yourself; when the old father or mother at home has thanked God for the comfort you have been in their declining years; whenever in the midst of all your sins you have done anything for the love of God or man, do you not know what a sweet, pure happiness has welled up in your heart, entirely different in kind, infinitely higher in degree than any pleasure that ever came to you from riches or amusement or the applause of men. Of this kind surely must be the pure joy of Heaven. Call up the recollection of some of those cherished moments of your life, and multiply by infinity the pleasure that you felt, and you will have some faint notion of what is meant by Heaven, the Heaven that God designs for man. II. WHAT IS HEAVEN'S SUPREME JOY? Thus, then, we answer the first of our questions--What is meant by Heaven? Heaven means a state of character rather than a place of residence. Heaven means to be something rather than to go somewhere. But though Heaven means a state of character rather than a place of residence, yet it means a place of residence, too. And though Heaven means to be something rather than to go somewhere, yet it means to go somewhere, too. And from this the second question easily follows. What can be known about that life in Heaven? "Oh, for a nearer insight into Heaven, More knowledge of the glory and the joy, Which there unto the happy souls is given, Their intercourse, their worship, their employ." We do not know a great deal about it. The Bible is given to help us to live rightly in this world, not to satisfy curiosity about the other world. But yet some glimpses of the blessed life have come to us, for our teaching. The first thing to learn is that the chief joy of Heaven shall consist in that of which we can only dream in this life, of which we can have but a partial glimpse even in the Hades or Paradise Life--_the Beatific Vision_, the clear vision and knowledge of God. All this life and all the Paradise life are fitting and training and preparing us for this consummation. Wise theologians of old divided the happiness of Heaven into "_Essential_" and "_Accidental_." By _essential_ they meant the happiness which the soul derives immediately from God's presence, from the Beatific Vision. By _accidental_ they meant the additional happiness which comes from creatures, from meeting with friends, from the joyous occupations and all the delights of ever-widening knowledge. But the Presence of God, the Vision of God, is the essential thing which gives light and joy to all the others. Without that Vision of God all would be dark as this beautiful world would be without the sun. Without that joy of God's presence all other joys would be spoiled, just as the gifts of this life would be without the central gift of health. That is the central thought about Heaven in the Bible, the central thought of God's noblest saints of old, aye, and the central thought of some of the noblest amongst ourselves to-day. Does it seem unreal, unnatural, to some of us? I can well believe it. Few of us love God well enough yet to desire Him above all things. Most of us, I fear, if we would honestly confess it, think more of the joy of meeting our dear ones than of the joy of being with God. But God is very gentle with us. "He knoweth our frame; He remembereth that we are but dust." He will gradually train us here and hereafter, and one day we, too, shall love Him above all things. Oh! I do think that to know the tender patience of Christ's love as we shall know it then, to know God as He is, with all the false notions about Him swept away, will make it impossible to withhold our love from Him. And if even our poor love for each other on earth is such a happiness think what joy may come from dwelling in that unutterable Love of God. III. THE LIFE IN HEAVEN What can we know further about the life in Heaven, about what the old theologians called the _secondary_ or _accidental_ joys as compared with the supreme joy of the Beatific Vision? We know, first, _There shall be no sin there_. It shall be a pure and innocent life. All who on earth have been loving, and pure, and noble, and brave, and self-sacrificing, shall be there. All who have been cleansed by the blood of Christ from the defilements of sin, and strengthened by the power of Christ against the enticements of sin, shall be there. There shall be no drunkenness nor impurity there, nor hatred, nor emulation, nor ill temper, nor selfishness, nor meanness. Ah! it is worth hoping for. We poor strugglers who hate ourselves and are so dissatisfied with ourselves, who look from afar at the lovely ideals rising within us, who think sorrowfully of all which we might have been and have not been--let us keep up heart. One day the ideal shall become the real. One day we shall have all these things for which God has put the craving in our hearts to-day. We shall have no sin there. We shall desire only and do only what is good. We shall be there what we have only seemed or wished to be here--honest, true, noble, sincere, genuine to the very centre of our being. No sin there. § 2 And that will make it easier to understand the second fact revealed to us. _No sorrow there_. "They shall hunger no more, neither thirst any more. There shall be no more curse ... no pain, nor sorrow, nor crying, and God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes." That is not hard to believe. Sin is the chief cause of our sorrow on earth. If there be no sin there; if all are pure and unselfish and generous and true, and if God wipes away all tears that come from causes other than sin, it is easily understood. But let us not degrade this thought or make it selfish or unreal. One often hears the sneer or the doubt about the happiness of Heaven while any exist who have lost their Heaven. We do not know the answer now. But we shall know it then. And we must be absolutely certain that the answer lies not in the direction of selfish indifference. The higher any soul on earth grows in love the less can it escape unselfish sorrow for others. Must it not be so in that land too? Surely the Highest Himself must have more pain than any one else for the self-caused misery of men. If there be joy in His presence over one that repenteth must there not be pain over one that repenteth not? We can only say in our deep ignorance that until the day when all evil shall have vanished there are surely higher things in God's plan for His redeemed than selfish happiness and content. There is the blessedness that comes of sympathy with Him in the pain which is the underside of the Eternal Love. § 3 No sin in Heaven. No sorrow in Heaven. What else do we certainly know? _That the essence of the Heaven life will be love_. The giving of oneself for the service of others. The going out of oneself in sympathy with others. There at last will be realized St. Paul's glorious ideal. There it can be said of every man, He suffereth long and is kind; envieth not; vaunteth not himself; is not puffed up; seeketh not his own; behaveth not uncourteously. He is like the eternal God Himself, who beareth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all things (1 Cor. xiii. 4-7). § 4 We may well believe _that there will be no dead level of attainment_, no dead level of perfection and joy. That would seem to us very uninteresting. If we may judge from God's dealings here and from the many texts of Scripture, there will be an infinite variety of attainment, of positions, of character. "In the Father's house there are many mansions." Our Lord assumes that we would expect that from our experience here. "If it were not so, I would have told you." I suppose there will be little ones there needing to be taught and weak ones needing to be helped; strong leaders sitting at His right hand in His Kingdom, and poor backward ones who never expected to get into it at all. And so surely we may believe, too, will there be _varieties of character and temperament_. We shall not lose our identity and our peculiar characteristics by going to Heaven, by being lifted to a higher spiritual condition. Just as a careless man does not lose his identity by conversion, by rising to a higher spiritual state on earth, so we may well believe when we die and pass into the life of the waiting souls, and again when at Christ's coming we pass into the higher Heaven we shall remain the same men and women as we were before and yet become very different men and women. Our lives will not be broken in two, but transfigured. We shall not lose our identity; we shall still be ourselves; we shall preserve the traits of character that individualize us; but all these personal traits and characteristics will be suffused and glorified by the lifting up of our motive and aim. As far as we can judge, there will be a delightful, infinite variety in the Heaven-life. What else? There shall be _work in Heaven_. The gift of God is eternal _life_ and that life surely means activity. We are told "His servants shall serve Him." We are told of the man who increased the talents or the pounds to five or ten that he was to be used for glorious work according as he had fitted himself--"Lord, thy talent hath gained five talents, ten talents." What was the reply? "You are now to go and rest for all eternity." Not a bit of it. "Be thou ruler over five cities, over ten cities; enter thou into the joy of thy Lord." I know some men who are now retired after a very busy active life of work, and they hate the idleness, they are sick of it. No wonder the conventional Heaven does not appeal to them. Ah, that is not God's Heaven. "They rest from their labours." Yes; but that word "labours" means painful strain. In eternal, untiring youth and strength we shall be occupied in doing His blessed will in helping and blessing the wide universe that He has made. Who can tell what glorious ministrations, what infinite activities, what endless growth and progress, and lifting up of brethren, God has in store for us through all eternity. Thank God for the thought of that joyous work of never-tiring youth and vigour; work of men proudly rejoicing in their strength, helping the weak ones, teaching the ignorant aye! perhaps for the very best of us going out with Christ into the outer darkness to seek that which is lost until He find it. For even that is not shut out beyond the bounds of possibility in the impenetrable mystery of the Hereafter. Do you know Whittier's beautiful poem of the old monk who had spent his whole life in hard and menial work for the rescue and help of others? And when he is dying his confessor tells him work is over, "Thou shalt sit down and have endless prayers, and wear a golden crown for ever and ever in Heaven." "Ah," he says, "I'm a stupid old man. I'm dull at prayers. I can't keep awake, but I love my fellow men. I could be good to the worst of them. I could not bear to sit amongst the lazy saints and turn a deaf ear to the sore complaints of those that suffer. I don't want your idle Heaven. I want still to work for others." The confessor in anger left him, and in the night came the voice of his Lord-- "Tender and most compassionate. Never fear, For Heaven is love, as God Himself is love; Thy work below shall be thy work above." [1] Be sure that the repose of Heaven will be no idling in flowery meadows or sitting for ever in a big temple at worship, as the poor, weary little children are sometimes told after a long sermon in church. No, "there is no temple in Heaven," we are told--no Church. Because all life is such a glad serving and rejoicing in God that men need no special times and places for doing it. IV. SHALL WE KNOW ONE ANOTHER IN HEAVEN? What else can we learn? Shall we know one another? Does any one really doubt it who believes in God at all? What sort of Heaven would it be otherwise? What sort of comfort would there be if we did not know one another? Oh, this beggarly faith, that God has to put up with, that treats the Father above as it would treat a man of doubtful character. "I must have His definite texts. I must have His written pledges, else I will not believe any good thing in His dealing." That is our way. We talk very piously about our belief in God's love, but we are afraid to infer anything, to argue anything from the infinitude of that love. No, we must have God's bond signed and sealed. I do believe that one reason why we have not more of direct answers about the mysteries of the future life is because God thought that no such answer should be necessary--that His love, if one would only believe in it, is a sufficient answer to them all. There is less need of discussing the subject here, since we have already dealt with the question of Recognition in the Intermediate Life (Part I, Chapter VII). If even in that imperfect state "absent from the body" we saw reason to hope for recognition, think how that hope rises to certainty in the great perfect life of Heaven where "I" shall be again "in the body" the glorious perfect spiritual body. As I have pointed out the Bible gives only passing hints on the subject. But it comforts the mourners with the thought of meeting those whom Christ will bring with Him. What would be the good of meeting if they should not know them? St. Paul expects to meet his converts and present them before Christ. How could he do so if he did not know them? Our Lord depicts Dives and Lazarus even in the lower Hades life as knowing each other. He says to the dying thief as they went within the veil, "To-day shalt thou be with Me." What could it mean except they should know each other within? But surely the Bible does not need to say it. It is one of those things that we may assume with certainty. We know that Heaven would scarce be Heaven at all if we were to be but solitary isolated spirits amongst a crowd of others whom we did not know or love. We know that the next world and this world come from the same God who is the same always. We know that in this world He has bound us up in groups, knowing and loving and sympathizing with each other. Unless His method utterly changes He must do the same hereafter. And we have seen what a prophecy of recognition lies deep in the very fibres of that nature which God has implanted in us. If we shall not know one another, why is there this undying memory of departed ones, the aching void that is never filled on earth? The lower animals lose their young and in a few days forget them. But the poor, human mother never forgets. When her head is bowed with age, when she has forgotten nearly all else on earth, you can bring the tears into her eyes by mentioning the child that died in her arms forty years ago. Did God implant that divine love in her only to disappoint it? God forbid! A thousand times, no. In that world the mother shall meet her child, and the lonely widow shall meet her husband, and they shall learn fully the love of God in that rapturous meeting with Christ's benediction resting on them. I know there are further questions rising in our hearts. Will our dear ones remember us? Will they, in all the years of progress, have grown too good and great for fellowship with us? There is no specific answer save what we can infer from the boundless goodness and kindness of God. Since He does not forget us we may be sure they will not forget us. Since His superior greatness and holiness does not put Him beyond our reach, we may be sure that theirs will not--their growth will be mainly a growth of love which will only bring them closer to us for ever and ever. V. HOW DO MEN ENTER HEAVEN? We have asked, What is meant by Heaven? What can be known of the details of life in Heaven? And now I close this book with the solemn question for us all: How shall we enter Heaven? If you have followed me thus far the answer is easy. Though there is a special place which shall be Heaven, yet, if Heaven means a state of mind rather than a place of residence, if Heaven means to be something rather than to go somewhere, though it means to go somewhere, too, then the answer is easy. We enter Heaven by a spiritual, not by a natural act. We begin Heaven here on earth, not by taking a journey to the sun or the planets, not by taking a journey from this world up through the air, but by taking a journey from a bad state of mind to a good state of mind; from that state of mind which is enmity against God, to that of humble, loyal, loving obedience to Christ. It is not so much that we have to go to Heaven. We have to do that, too. But Heaven has to come to us first. Heaven has to begin in ourselves. "The beginning of Heaven is not at that hour when the eye grows dim and the sound of friendly voices becomes silent in death, but at that hour when God draws near and the eyes of the spiritual understanding are opened, and the soul sees how beautiful Christ is, how hateful sin is; the hour when self-will is crucified, and the God-will is born in the resolutions of a new heart." Then Heaven has begun, the Heaven that will continue after our death. Do we believe that this is the right way to think of Heaven? For if so it is a serious question for us all. What about my hopes of entering Heaven? If Heaven consists of character rather than possessions, of a state of mind rather than a place of residence, if, in fine, Heaven has to begin on earth, what of our hopes of entering Heaven? Is it not pitiful to hear people talk lightly about going to Heaven, whose lives on earth have not any trace of the love and purity and nobleness and self-sacrifice of which Heaven shall entirely consist hereafter? To see men with the carnal notions about Heaven as a place of external glory and beauty and jasper and emerald, where, after they have misused their time on earth, they shall fly away like swallows to an eternal summer. Why, what should they do in Heaven? They would be miserable there even if they could get there. They would be entirely out of their element, like a fish sent to live on the grass of a lovely meadow. Those who shall enjoy the Heaven hereafter are they whose Heaven has begun before. They who may hope to do the work of God hereafter are those who are humbly trying to do that will on earth. These shall inherit the everlasting Kingdom. Unto which blessed Kingdom may He vouchsafe to bring us all! Amen. [1] Whittier, "The Brother of Mercy." 
19566	----	public domain works from the University of Michigan Digital Libraries.) [Illustration: Robert Patterson] FABLES OF INFIDELITY AND FACTS OF FAITH: BEING AN EXAMINATION OF THE EVIDENCES OF INFIDELITY. BY REV. ROBERT PATTERSON, D. D. REVISED AND ENLARGED. CINCINNATI: WESTERN TRACT SOCIETY. Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1875, by WESTERN TRACT SOCIETY, In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, Washington, D. C. Stereotyped by OGDEN, CAMPBELL & CO., 176 Elm St., Cincinnati. CONTENTS. CHAPTER I. PAGE. Did the World Make Itself? 7 Eternity of Matter. Disproved by its Composite Nature. Disproved by its Motion. Evolution only a big Perpetual Motion Humbug. Work of a Designer in the structure of the Eye. The Eye-Maker sees over a wide Field and far. The Eye-Maker sees Perfectly. CHAPTER II. Was Your Mother a Monkey? 34 The Divine Fact of Evolution Quite Different from the Atheistic Theory. State the Question Sharply--Why? Darwin's Answer. The Ancestral Monkey, Fish, Squirt. Natural Selection. Intended to Exclude God. 1. _The History of the Theory._ Indian; Phoenician; Greek; Popish; La Place's Theory; The Vestiges of Creation. Herbert Spencer's Contradictory Theory. The Evolutionists' Hell. Spontaneous Generation--two Theories; the Conflicting Theories of Progress; Tremaux; Lamarck; the Climatal; Darwin's; Huxley's; Parson's; Mivart's; Hyatt's; Cope's; Wallace's; the Gods; Denounced by the Princes of Science. Agassiz's Deliverance Against it. Imperfection of the Theory Eked out. Huxley's Protoplasm. Tyndall's Potency of Life in Matter. Buchner's Matter and Force. Lubbock's Origin of Civilization. Consequences of the Brutal Origin of Man. Propagandism of Atheism. 2. _The Theory Illogical and Incoherent._ Darwin Admits Insufficiency of Proof. Useless as an Explanation of Nature. Self-Contradictory; _e. g._, Protoplasm. Wallace's Self-Contradictions. Incoherency of the Denial of Design with the Assertion of Progress. Failure of Alleged Facts to Sustain the Theory. Does not Account for the Origin of Anything. Wild Assumptions Made by Darwin. Erroneous Assumption of the Tendency of Natural Selection to Improve Breeds. Assumption of Infinite Possibility of Progress in Finite Creatures. 3. _An Unfounded Theory._ No Evidence of the Facts Possible. None Ever Alleged, save Gulliver's. Domestication Disproves Transmutation--Horses; Pigeons; Dogs. The Egyptian Monuments. The Mummied Animals. The Geological Record. The Limits of Geological Time. 4. _Embryology._ Testimony of Scientists: 1. Embryology Only Analogical. 2. Embryos _not_ all Alike. 3. Four Distinct Plans of Structure. 4. Germs Always True to the Breed. 5. _Gradations of Species._ Lamarck's Statement. Birth Descent not Inferable from Gradation. No such Imperceptible Blending in Nature. The Fact of the Present Existence of Distinct Species. Sterility of Hybrids. Geological Species Distinct. The Intermediate Forms not Found. The Gradation Does not Begin with the Lowest Forms. Four Kingdoms from the Beginning. The New Species Began with the Giants. The Gaps Fatal to the Theory. The Abyss Between Death and Life. The Gulf Between the Plant and the Animal. The Gaps Between Species Which will not Breed Together. The Gaps Between Air Breathers and Water Breathers, &c. The Great Gulf Between the Brute and the Man. Natural Selection Could not Have Deprived a Monkey of Hair. Nor Have Given a Human Brain. The Brain-Worker Contravenes Natural Selection at Every Step. Civilization the Contradiction of Natural Selection. Morality and Religion the Direct Contraries of Natural Selection. Tendency Immoral, Degrading, and Atheistic. CHAPTER III. Is God Everybody, and Everybody God? 91 Pantheism Described. An Antiquated Hindooism. A Jesuitical Atheism. Grossly Immoral. A Practical Atheism. CHAPTER IV. Have We Any Need of the Bible? 112 Civilization and the Bible. Revelation Not Impossible. The Mythical Theory. The Inner Light. Many Ignorant of God. Heathen Morality--Plato's. Infidel Morality--Paine's. CHAPTER V. Who Wrote the New Testament? 147 The Bible Not Just Like Any Other Book. Two Modes of Investigation. Did the Council of Nice Make the Bible? The Mythical Theory. The Evidence of Celsus. The Fragment Hypothesis. The Bank Signature Book. Could the New Testament be Corrupted? CHAPTER VI. Is the Gospel Fact or Fable? 169 The Nature of Historical Evidence; Letters; Monuments. Contemporary Letters of Peter, Pliny and John. Prove the Existence of Churches. And Their Worship, Holiness, and Sufferings. CHAPTER VII. Can We Believe Christ and His Apostles? 190 The Gospel a Unit; Must Take or Refuse it All. Apostles' Testimony Circumstantial. Witnesses Numerous and Independent. Confirm Their Testimony with Their Blood. CHAPTER VIII. Prophecy, 210 Political--Napoleon's--Wrong. Presidential Candidates. Draper's Dogma of Youth and Decrepitude of Nations. Statesmen Prophets. General Claim for All Genius. Instances of Secular Prediction: Cayotte's of the French Revolution. The Oracles of Apollo. Vettius Valens' Twelve Vultures. Spencer's of the Disruption of the American Union. Saint Malachi's Prophecies. Mohammed's Prophecies. Seneca's of the Discovery of America. Dante's of the Reformation. Plato's of Shakespeare. Symbolical Language of Prophecy. Anybody may Predict Downfall of Nations. An Awful Truth if it be True. But Bible Predictions Circumstantial--Egypt; Babylon; Nineveh; Judea. Predict Life and Resurrection. The Arabs; Jews; Seven Churches; Messiah. CHAPTER IX. Moses and the Prophets, 266 God the Author of the Bible. Every Other Book Inspired? Connection of Bible History and Morality. Hume's Sophism. Miracles Being Violations of Laws of Nature, Contrary to an Unalterable Experience. No Testimony can Reach to the Supernatural. Records of Facts Not Judged by Your Notions. Rationalistic Explanation of the Miracles. Bible Account of Creation Unscientific. Antiquity of Man. The Anachronisms of the Pentateuch. Bishop Colenso's Blunders: The Universality of the Deluge. Joshua Causing the Sun to Stand Still. Cain's Wife. Increase of Jacob's Family in Egypt. The Number of the First-Born. The Fourth Generation. The Bishop's Blunders in Camp Life. Sterility of the Wilderness. Population of the Promised Land. Modern Discoveries in Bible Lands. Egyptian Monuments of Joseph. Assyrian Ethnology and Genesis, Chaps. x. and xi. Sennacherib's Conquest of Palestine. Belshazzar's Kingship. The Moabitic Inscriptions, and Omri and Ahab. The Samaritan Pentateuch. The Character of the Books--Austere. Variety of Writers and Unity of Plan. Contained the Surveys, and the Laws of the Nation. Introduced New and Republican Usages. Moses' Law in Advance of Modern Social Science. Testimony of the Jewish Nation. Testimony of Christ. The Lost Books. The Law Abolished by the Gospel. The Imperfect Morality of Old Testament. Polygamy, Slavery, and Divorce. The Education of the World a Gradual Process. The Imprecations of Scripture. CHAPTER X. Infidelity Among the Stars, 335 Scientific Objections to the Bible. The Infinity and Self-Existence of the Universe. Disproved by Its Evident Limits. Its Composite Materials. Its Steady Loss of Heat. Buffon's Explosion of Planets. The Nebular Theories. The Fiction of Homogeneous Matter. The Contradictory Theories. The Perpetual Motion Machine. Contrary to Facts of Astronomy. Contradicted by Astronomers. Impossibility of any Cosmogony. CHAPTER XI. Daylight Before Sunrise, 378 Infidel Objections to Genesis. The Hindoo Chronology. The Egyptian Chronology. The Bible Age of the Earth. The Solid Firmament. Light Before the Sun. CHAPTER XII. Telescopic Views of Scripture, 423 The Source of the Water of the Deluge. The Stars Fighting Against Sisera. The Astronomers of the Great Pyramid. The Grand Motion of the Sun. The Formation of Dew. The Multitude of the Stars. The Descent of the Heavenly City. CHAPTER XIII. Science or Faith? 466 Must Faith Fade Before Science? Scientists as Partial as Other People. Have no Such Certainty as is Claimed. 1. _Mathematical Errors._ The Infinite Half Inch, Etc. The Doctrine of Chances. No Mathematical Figures in Nature. The French Metric System. The Lowell Turbine Wheel. 2. _Errors of Astronomy._ Kant's Predictions; Le Verrier's. Herschel's Enumeration of Errors. Sun's Distance; Other Measurements. The Moon's Structure and Influence. La Place's Proposed Improvement. The Sun's Structure, Heat, Etc. The Sizes, Distances, and Densities of the Planets. Errors About the Nebulæ. Errors About Comets. The Cosmical Ether. The Cold of Infinite Space. From This Chaos Springs the Theory of Development. 3. _Errors of Geology._ No _Fact_ of Geology Anti-Biblical. All Anti-Biblical Theories Based on an _If_. No Geological Measure of _Time_. All Calculations of Time by Geologists, which Have Been Tested, Have Proved Erroneous--the Danish Bogs; the Swiss Lake Villager; Horner's Nile Pottery; the Raised Beaches of Scotland; Lyell's Blunder in the Delta of the Mississippi; Sir Wm. Thompson's Exposure of the Absurdity of the Evolutionists' Demands for Time. Conflicting Geological Theories--the Wernerian, Huttonian, and Diluvian Theories; the Catastrophists and Progressionists; Eleven Theories of Earthquakes; Nine Theories of Mountains; False Geology of America; Scotland Kicked About Too. 4. _Errors of Zoology._ Lamarck's Vestiges; Tremaux; Darwin's Contradictions; Huxley; Mivart, and Wallace. Blunders of the French Academy, Denouncing Quinine, Vaccination, Lightning Rods, and Steam Engines. Uncertainty of Science Increases in Human Concerns. Second-hand Science Founded on Somebody's Say So. 5. _All Science Founded on Faith._ Reason Also Based on Faith. This Life Depends on Faith. We Demand Truths of which Science is Ignorant. All Our Chief Concerns in the Domain of Faith. Religion the Most Experimental of the Sciences. The Only Science which can Make You Happy. Try for Yourself. PREFACE. This is not so much a volume upon the Evidences of Christianity, as an examination of the Evidences of Infidelity. When the Infidel tells us that Christianity is false, and asks us to reject it, he is bound of course to provide us with something better and truer instead; under penalty of being considered a knave trying to swindle us out of our birthright, and laughed at as a fool, for imagining that he could persuade mankind to live and die without religion. Suppose he had proved to the world's satisfaction that all religion is a hoax, and all men professing it are liars, how does that comfort me in my hour of sorrow? Scoffing will not sustain a man in his solitude, when he has nobody to scoff at; and disbelief is only a bottomless tub, which will not float me across the dark river. If Infidels intend to convert the world, they must give us some positive system of truth which we can believe, and venerate, and trust. A glimmering idea of this necessity seems lately to have dawned upon some of them. It is quite possible that they have also felt the want of something for their own souls to believe; for an Infidel has a soul, a poor, hungry, starved soul, just like other men. At any rate, having grown tired of pelting the Church with the dirtballs of Voltaire and Paine, they begin to acknowledge that it is, after all, an institution; and that the Bible is an influential book, both popular and useful in its way. Mankind, it seems, will have a Church and a Bible of some sort; why not go to work and make a Church and a Bible of their own? Accordingly they have gone to work, and in a very short time have prepared a variety of ungodly religions, so various that the worldly-minded man who can not be suited with one to his taste must be very hard to please. Discordant and contradictory in their positive statements, they are agreed only in negatives; denying the God of the Bible, the resurrection of the dead, and judgment to come. Nevertheless each discoverer or constructor presents his system to the world with great confidence, large claims to superior benevolence, vast pretensions to learning and science, and no little cant about duty and piety. Wonderful to tell, some of them are very fond of clothing their ungodliness in the language of Scripture. No pains are spared to secure the wide spread of these notions. Prominent Infidels are invited to deliver courses of scientific lectures, in which the science is made the medium of conveying the Infidelity. Scientific books, novels, magazines, daily newspapers, and common school books, are all enlisted in the work. The disciples of Infidelity are numerous and zealous. It would be hard to find a factory, boarding-house, steamboat or hotel where twelve persons are employed, without an Infidel; and harder still to find an Infidel who will not use his influence to poison his associates. These systems are well adapted to the depraved tastes of the age. The business man, whose whole soul is set on money-making and spending, is right glad to meet the Secularist, who will prove to him on scientific principles, that a man is much profited by gaining the whole world, even at the risk of his soul, if he has such a thing. The young and ill-instructed professor of Christianity, whose longings for forbidden joys are strong, has a natural kindliness toward nationalism, which befogs the serene light of God's holy law, and gives the directing power to his own inner liking. The sentimental young lady, who would recoil from the grossness of the Deist, is attracted by the poetry of Pantheism. Infidelity has had, in consequence, a degree of success very little suspected by simple-minded pastors and parents, and which is often discovered too late for remedy. This book is written to expose the _folly_ of some of these novel systems of Infidelity--leaving others to show their wickedness. It may surprise some who would glory in being esteemed fiends, to learn that they are only fools. If they should be awakened now to a sense of the absurdities which they cherish as philosophy, it might save them from awaking another day to the shame and everlasting contempt of the universe. I have not taken up all the cavils of Infidelity. Their name is Legion. Nor have I troubled my readers with any which they are not likely to hear. Leaving the sleeping dogs to lie, I have noticed only such as I have known to bark and bite in my own neighborhood, and know to be rife here in the West. They are stated, as nearly as possible, in the words in which I have heard them in public debate, or in private conversation with gentlemen of Infidel principles. I have made no references to books or writers on that side, save to such as I am assured were the sources of their sentiments. In such cases I have named and quoted the authors. Where no such quotations are noticed it will be understood that I am responsible for the fairness with which I have represented the opinions which are examined. It is not my design to fight men of straw. Every historical or scientific fact adduced in support of the arguments here used is confirmed by reference to the proper authority. But it has not been deemed needful to crowd the pages with references to the works of Christian apologists. The Christian scholar does not need such references; while to those for whose benefit I write, their names carry no authority, and their arguments are generally quite unknown. One great object of my labor will be gained if I shall succeed in awaking the spirit of inquiry among my readers, to such an extent as to load them to a prayerful and patient perusal of several of the works named on the next page. They have heard only one side of the question, and will be surprised at their own ignorance of matters which they ought to have known. Books on the Evidences are not generally circulated. Ministers perhaps have some volumes in their libraries; but in a hundred houses, it would be hard to find half a dozen containing as many as would give an inquiring youth a fair view of the historical evidences of the truth of the gospel. Nor, where they are to be found, are they generally read. Being deemed heavy reading, the magazine, or the newspaper is preferred. Ministers do not in general devote enough of their time to such sound teaching as will stop the mouths of gainsayers. I have been assured by skeptical gentlemen, who in the early part of their lives had attended church regularly for twenty-two years, that during all that time they had never heard a single discourse on the Evidences. Moreover, the protean forms of Infidelity are so various, and many of its present positions so novel, that books or discourses prepared only twenty years ago miss the mark; and rather expose to the charge of misrepresentation, than produce conviction. New books on Infidelity are needed for every generation. The lectures expanded into this volume were delivered in Cincinnati, in 1858. Replying to different, and discordant systems of error, whose only bond is opposition to the gospel, they are necessarily somewhat disconnected. No attempt was made to mold them into a suit of royal armor, but merely to select a few smooth pebbles from the brook of truth, which any Christian lad might sling at the giant defiers of the armies of the living God. Having proved acceptable for this purpose, and a steadily increasing demand for repeated editions wearing out the original plates, the author has been requested by British and American publishers to revise the work in the light of the recent discoveries of science. This he has attempted; with what success the reader will judge. Conscious of its many defects, yet grateful to God for the good which he has done to many souls by its instrumentality, the author again commends the book to the Father of Lights, praying him to use it as a mirror to flash such a ray of light into many dark souls as may lead them into the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ. SAN FRANCISCO, March 30, 1875. * * * * * The author having been repeatedly asked by inquirers for the names of books on the Evidences of Christianity, subjoins a list of those easily accessible in the West. It is not supposed that any one inquirer will read all these; but it is well to read more than one, since the evidence is cumulative, and it is impossible for any writer to present the whole. Having a list of several works, the inquirer who can not obtain one may be able to procure another. There are many other works on the Evidences on the shelves of all our principal booksellers. _Modern Atheism_, by James Buchanan, LL. D. _Typical Forms and Special Ends in Creation_, by James McCosh, LL. D., and George Dickie, M. D. _Religion and Geology_, Edward Hitchcock, LL. D. _The Architecture of the Heavens_, J. P. Nichol, LL. D. _The Christian Philosopher_, Thomas Dick, LL. D. _Natural Theology_, William Paley, D. D. _The Analogy of Religion, Natural and Revealed, to the Constitution and Course of Nature_, Joseph Butler, D. C. L. _The Bridgewater Treatises_, Whewell, Chalmers, Kidd, &c. _The Comprehensive Commentary_, William Jenks, D. D. _The Cause and Cure of Infidelity_, Rev. David Nelson. _A View of the Evidences of Christianity_, William Paley, D. D. _The Eclipse of Faith_, ascribed to Henry Rogers. _The Restoration of Belief_, ascribed to Isaac Taylor. _Lectures on the Evidences of Christianity_, University of Virginia. _The Divine Authority of the Old and New Testaments Asserted_, J. Leland, D. D. _The Bible Commentary._ _An Apology for the Bible, in a Series of Letters to Thomas Paine_, R. Watson. _A View of the Internal Evidence of the Christian Religion_, S. Jenyns. _A Letter to G. West, Esq., on the Conversion of St. Paul_, Lord Lyttleton. _Observations on the History and Evidence of the Resurrection of Jesus Christ_, Gilbert West, Esq. _Difficulties of Infidelity_, Faber. _Dissertations on the Prophecies_, Thos. Newton, D. D. _An Introduction to the Critical Study of the Scriptures_, T. H. Horne, Vol. I. _The Evidences of Christianity_, Charles Petit McIlvaine, D. D. _Rawlinson's Historical Evidences._ _Modern Skepticism_, by Joseph Barker. _Haley's Discrepancies of the Bible_, W. G. Holmes, Chicago. _The Superhuman Origin of the Bible_, Rogers. _Christianity and Positivism_, McCosh. _The Supernatural in Relation to the Natural_, McCosh. _Aids to Faith_, Appleton & Co. _Modern Skepticism_, Randolph & Son. _Modern Doubt_, Christlieb. _Alexander's Evidences of Christianity._ CHAPTER I. DID THE WORLD MAKE ITSELF? _Understand, ye brutish among the people; And, ye fools, when will ye be wise? He that planted the ear, shall he not hear? He that formed the eye, shall he not see? He that chastiseth the heathen, shall he be not correct? He that teacheth man knowledge, shall he not know?_--PSALM xciv. 8, 9. Has the Creator of the world common sense? Did he know what he was about in making it? Had he any object in view in forming it? Does he know what is going on in it? Does he care whether it answers any purpose or not? Strange questions you will say; yet we need to ask a stranger question: Had the world a Creator, or did it make itself? There are persons who say it did, and who declare that the Bible sets out with a lie when it says, that "In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth." Whereas, say they, "We know that matter is eternal, and the world is wholly composed of matter; therefore, the heavens and the earth are eternal, never had a beginning nor a Creator." But, however fully the atheist may know that matter is eternal, we do not know any such thing, and must be allowed to ask, How do _you_ know? As you are not eternal, we can not take it on your word. The only reason which anybody ever ventured for this amazing assertion is this, that "all philosophers agree that matter is naturally indestructible by any human power. You may boil water into steam, but it is all there in the steam; or burn coal into gas, ashes, and tar, but it is all in the gas, ashes, and tar; you may change the outward form as much as you please, but you can not destroy the substance of anything. Wherefore, as matter is indestructible, it must be eternal." Profound reasoning! Here is a brick fresh from the kiln. It will last for a thousand years to come; therefore, it has existed for a thousand years past! The foundation of the argument is as rotten as the superstructure. It is not agreed among all philosophers that matter is naturally indestructible, for the very satisfactory reason that none of them can tell what matter in its own nature is. All that they can undertake to say is, that they have observed certain properties of matter, and, among these, that "it is indestructible by any operation to which it can be subjected in the ordinary course of circumstances observed at the surface of the globe."[1] The very utmost which any man can assert in this matter is a negative, a want of knowledge, or a want of power. He can say, "Human power can not destroy matter;" and, if he pleases, he may reason thence that human power did not create it. But to assert that matter is eternal because man can not destroy it, is as if a child should try to beat the cylinder of a steam engine to pieces, and, failing in the attempt, should say, "I am sure this cylinder existed from eternity, because I am unable to destroy it." But not only is the assertion of the eternity of matter unproven, and impossible to be proved, it is capable of the most demonstrable refutation, by one of the recent discoveries of science. The principle of the argument is so plain that a child of four years old can understand it. It is simply this, that all substances in heaven and earth are compounded of several elements; but no compound can be eternal. We say to our would-be philosophers, When you tell us that matter is eternal, how does that account for the formation of this world? What is this matter you speak of? This world consists not of a philosophical abstraction called matter, nor yet of one substance known by that name, but of a great variety of material substances, oxygen, hydrogen, carbon, sulphur, iron, aluminum, and some fifty others already discovered.[2] Now, which of these is the eterna-matter you speak of? Is it iron, or sulphur, or clay, or oxygen? If it is any one of them, where did the others come from? Did a mass of iron, becoming discontented with its gravity, suddenly metamorphose itself into a cloud of gas, or into a pail of water? Or are they all eternal? Have we fifty-seven eternal beings? Are they all eternal in their present combinations? or is it only the single elements that are eternal? You see that your hypothesis--that matter is eternal--gives me no light on the formation of this world, which is not a shapeless mass of a philosophical abstraction called matter, but a regular and beautiful building, composed of a great variety of matters. Was it so from eternity? No man who was ever in a quarry, or a gravel pit, will say so, much less one who has the least smattering of chemistry or geology. Do you assert the eternity of the fifty-seven single substances, either separate or combined in some other way than we now find them in the rocks, and rivers, and atmosphere of the earth? Then how came they to get together at all, and particularly how did they put themselves in their present shapes? Each of them is a piece of matter of which _inertia_ is a primary and inseparable property. Matter _of itself_ can not begin to move, or assume a quiescent state after being put in motion. Will you tell us that the fifty-seven primary elements danced about till the air, and sea, and earth, somehow jumbled themselves together into the present shape of this glorious and beautiful world, with all its regularity of day and night, and summer and winter, with all its beautiful flowers and lofty trees, with all its variety of birds, and beasts, and fishes? To bring the matter down to the level of the intellect of the most stupid pantheist, tell us in plain English, _Did the paving stones make themselves?_ For the paving stones are _made_ out of a dozen different chemical constituents, and each one is built up more ingeniously than the house you live in. _Now, did the paving stones make themselves?_ No conviction of the human mind is more certain than the belief that every combination of matter proves the existence of a combiner, that every house has had a builder, and that every machine has had a maker. No matter how simple the combination, if it be only two laths fastened together by a nail, or two bricks cemented with mortar, or the sole of an old pegged boot, all the atheists in the world could not convince you that those two laths, or those two bricks, or those two bits of leather existed in such a combination from all eternity. If any wise philosopher tried to persuade you that for anything you could tell they might have been always so, you would reply, "No, sir! You can't cram such stuff down my throat. Even a child's common sense shows him that those two laths were not always so nailed together; that those two bricks were not always so placed, one on the top of the other; and that those two pieces of old sole leather were not always pegged together in the sole of a boot." There is no conviction more irresistible than our belief that _no compound can possibly be eternal_. But the universe is the greatest of all compounds. Everything in it is compound. Chemists speak of simple substances, or elements of matter, and it is well enough to separate the elements of things in our thoughts, for the sake of distinct consideration, and to speak of the properties of pure oxygen, or of pure hydrogen, or of pure carbon, or of pure gold, or of pure iron, or of pure silver. But then we should always remember that there is nothing pure in the world, that there is no such thing in nature as any substance consisting only of a single element, pure and uncombined with others. Just as your gold eagle is not pure gold, but alloyed with copper, everything in nature is alloyed. Everything in the heavens above, and in the earth beneath, and in the waters under the earth, is compound. The air you breathe, simple as it seems, is composed of three gases, and is besides full of what Huxley calls "a stirabout" of millions of seeds of animalculæ and motes of dust visible in the sunbeam. That hydrant water you are about to swallow is a rich aquarium full of all manner of monsters, which the oxy-hydrogen microscope will exhibit to your terrified gaze, devouring each other alive. Should you get rid of them by evaporating your water, your chemist will tell you that still your pure water must be a compound of oxygen and hydrogen. There is no help for it. Many years ago some astronomers fancied they had found clouds, or nebulæ, of gas, quite simple and uncompounded with anything else, a great many millions of miles away in the sky. They were so very far away that they thought nobody would ever be able to fly so far to bottle up a specimen of that gas and bring it back here to earth and analyze it, to find out whether it was pure and simple, or compound. So they felt quite safe in affirming that there was the genuine, simple, homogeneous gas, in the nebulæ, with which Almighty God had nothing whatever to do, but which had first made itself and then had condensed into our present world. But unfortunately for this brilliant discovery the spectroscope opened windows into the nebulæ, and showed very plainly that they were on fire; and fire is a compound; it can not burn without fuel and something to support the combustion; so that settled the alleged simplicity of the nebulæ. It is now demonstrated, therefore, that every known substance existing in nature is a compound, and therefore can not be eternal. And the whole is not greater than the sum of its parts. No number of finite existences can be eternal. The universe, then, can not be eternal. Suppose, however, that, for the sake of argument, we should grant our atheistic world-builder his materials, away off beyond the rings of Saturn, or the orbit of Uranus (since he seems to like to have his quarries a good way off from his building), would he be any nearer the completion of his world-making? As Cornwallis declared that the conquest of India resolved itself ultimately into a question of bullocks, the prime consideration in the construction of the world, after you have got your materials, is that of transportation. When one beholds the three great stones in the temple of Baalbec, each weighing eleven hundred tons, built into the wall twenty feet high, and a fourth in the quarry, a mile away, nearly ready for removal, he asks, "How did the builders move those immense stones, and raise them to their places?" And when we behold the quarry out of which these stones were taken, and all the other quarries of the world, and all the everlasting mountains, and the whole of this solid earth, and boundless sea, brought, as our theorists affirm, from far beyond the orbit of the most distant planet, we raise the question of transportation, and demand some account of the wagon and team which hauled them to their places. We can not get rid of the necessity for transportation by evaporating the building stones into gas, for a world of gas weighs just as many tons as the world made out of it. Before we can make a world we must have _power_; but we can never get power out of the world to build itself. The atheists' world is only a great machine. The first law of mechanics is that action and reaction are equal; consequently machinery can never create power. You will never lift yourself by pulling at your boot-straps; much less can a machine lift and carry itself. It is no matter how big you make the wheels of your machine, as big as the orbits of the planets if you like, still it is only a machine, unless it has a mind in it; and your big machine can no more create power than a little machine as small as a lady's watch. Nor does it make the least difference in respect to making power, of what materials your perpetual motion peddler makes his machine--whether of a skein of silk on a reel in a bottle, or of steel and zinc electro magnets running upon diamond points, or whether he melts up his steel, and zinc, and diamonds into red hot fire mist; it is still only a machine, made of these materials, as destitute of power as the smaller machines made out of it. The atheists' universe is only a big machine, and no machine can create power, no more than a paving stone. It has been, however, proposed to manufacture power by the law of gravitation, according to which all bodies attract each other, directly in proportion to their mass, and inversely as the square of their distances. This law appears to prevail as far as our observation extends through space; and our world builders affirm that it must have operated eternally, and that not only were the separate parts of our earth thus drawn together, but that all the orbs of heaven were caused to revolve under its influence. Suppose, however, we grant that matter was eternal, and the force of gravitation eternally operating upon it, would that sufficiently account for the building up of even our own little planetary system? By no means. The unresisted force of gravitation would, in far less than an eternity, draw all things together toward the center of gravity of the universe. We should not have separate stars, and suns, and planets, and moons, revolving in orderly orbits, but one vast mass of matter, in which all motion had long since ceased. There must be some power of resistance to gravitation, and nicely balanced against it, a centrifugal force--no matter whether you call it heat, light, or electricity, or by any other name--from which balance of power the movements of the universe are regulated. But here again we arrive at the same conclusion from the balance of power to which we were before driven by the combination of matter--regulated power proclaims a regulator, a governor. Power belongeth unto God. In world-building we need not only a quarry of materials, and power for transportation, but a head to plan their arrangement. For, as ten thousand loads of brick and stone dumped down higgledy piggledy will not build a house, neither will ten thousand millions of materials poured into a chaos make a world like this earth, arranged in order and beauty. It is grossly absurd to imagine that the inanimate materials of the earth arranged themselves in their present orderly structure. Absurd as it seems to every man of common sense, there are persons claiming to be philosophers who not only assert that they did, but will tell you how they did it. One class of them think they have found it out by supposing every thing in the universe reduced to very fine powder, consisting of very small grains, which they call atoms; or, if that is not fine enough, into gas, of which it is supposed the particles are too fine to be perceived; and then by different arrangements of these atoms, according to the laws of attraction and electricity, the various elements of the world were made, and arranged in its present form. Suppose we grant this gassy supposition, that the world millions of ages ago existed as a cloud of atoms, does that bring us any nearer the object of getting rid of a Creator than before? The atoms must be material, if a material world is to be made from them; and so they must be extended; each one of them must have length, breadth and thickness. The atheist, then, has only multiplied his difficulties a million times, by pounding up the world into atoms, which are only little bits of the paving stones he intends to make out of them. Each bit of the paving stone, no matter how small you break it, remains just as incapable of making itself, or moving itself, as was the whole stone composed of all these bits. So we are landed back again at the sublime question, _Did the paving stones make themselves, and move themselves?_ Others will tell you that millions of years ago the world existed as a vast cloud of fire mist, which, after a long time, cooled down into granite, and the granite, by dint of earthquakes, got broken up on the surface, and washed with rain into clay and soil, whence plants sprang up of their own accord, and the plants gradually grew into animals of various kinds, and some of the animals grew into monkeys, and finally the monkeys into men. The fire mist they stoutly affirm to have existed from eternity. They do not allege that they remember that (and yet as they themselves are, as they say, composed body and soul of this eternal fire mist, they ought to remember), but only that there are certain comets which occasionally come within fifty or sixty millions of miles of this earth, which they suppose may be composed of the fire mist which they _suppose_ this world is made of. A solid basis, truly, on which to build a world! A cloud in the sky, fifty million of miles away, may possibly be fire mist, may possibly cool down and condense into a solid globe; therefore, this fire mist is eternal, and had no need of a Creator; and our world, and all other worlds, may possibly have been like it; therefore, they also were never created by Almighty God. Such is the atheist's ground of faith. The thinnest vapor or the merest supposition will suffice to risk his eternal salvation upon; provided only it contradicts the Bible and gets rid of God. We can not avoid asking with as much gravity as we can command, Where did the mist come from? Did the mist make itself? Where did the fire come from? Did it kindle of its own accord? Who put the fire and mist together? Was it red hot enough from all eternity to melt granite? Then why is it any cooler now? How could an eternal red heat cool down? If it existed as a red hot fire mist from eternity, until our atheist began to observe it beginning to cool, why should it ever begin to cool at all, and why begin to cool just then? Fill it as full of electricity, magnetism and odyle as you please; do these afford any _reason_ for its very extraordinary conduct? The utmost they do is to show you _how_ such a change took place, but they neither tell you _where the original matter came from_, nor _why its form was changed_. Change is an effect, and every effect requires a cause. There could be no cause outside of the fire mist; for they say there was nothing else in the universe. Then the cause must be in the mist itself. Had it a mind, and a will, and a perception of propriety? Did the mist become sensible of the lightness of its behavior, and the fire resolve to cool off a little, and both consult together on the propriety of dropping their erratic blazing through infinite space, and resolve to settle down into orderly, well-behaved suns and planets? In the division of the property, _what became of the mind_? Did it go to the sun, or to the moon, or to the pole star, or to this earth? Or, was it clipped up into little pieces and divided among the stars in proportion to their respective magnitudes; so that the sun may have, say the hundredth part of an idea, and the moon a faint perception of it? Did the fire mist's mind die under this cruel clipping and dissecting process; or is it of the nature of a polypus, each piece alive and growing up to perfection in its own way? Has each of the planets and fixed stars a great "soul of the world" as well as this earth, and are they looking down intelligently and compassionately on the little globe of ours? Had we not better build altars to all the host of heaven and return to the religion of our acorn-fed ancestors, who burned their children alive, in honor of the sun, on Sun-days? An aqueous solution of this difficulty of getting rid of Almighty God, is frequently proposed. It is known that certain chemical solutions, when mixed together, deposit a sediment, or precipitate, as chemists call it. And it is supposed that the universe was all once in a state of solution, in primeval oceans, and that the mingling of the waters of these oceans caused them to deposit the various salts and earths which form the worlds in the form of mud, which afterward hardened into rock, or vegetated into trees and men. Thus, it is clearly demonstrated that there is no need for the Creator if--if--if--we only had somebody to make these primeval oceans--and somebody to mix them together![3] The development theory of the production of the human race from the mud, through the mushroom, the snail, the tortoise, the greyhound, the monkey and the man, which is now such a favorite with atheists, if it were fully proved to be a fact, would only increase the difficulty of getting rid of God. For either the primeval mud had all the germs of the future plants and monkeys, and men's bodies and souls, in itself originally, or it had not. If it had not, where did it get them? If it had all the life and intelligence in the universe in itself, it was a very extraordinary kind of God. We shall call it the _mud-god_. Our atheists then believe in a god of muddy body and intelligent mind. But if they deny intelligence to the mud, then we are back to our original difficulty, with a large appendix, viz: _The paving stones made themselves first and all atheists afterward._ The whole theory of development is utterly false in its first principles. From the beginning of the world to the present day, no man has ever observed an instance of the spontaneous generation of life. There is no law of nature, whether electric, magnetic, odylic, or any other, which can produce a living plant or animal, save from the germ or seed of some previous plant or animal of the same species. Nor has a single instance of the transmutation of species ever been proved. Every beast, bird, fish, insect and plant brings forth after its kind, and has done so since its creation. No law of Natural Philosophy is more firmly established than this, _That there is no spontaneous generation, nor transmutation of species._ It is true there is a regular gradation of the various orders of animal and vegetable life, rising like the steps of a staircase, one above the other; but gradation is no more caused by transmutation than a staircase is made by an ambitious lower step changing itself into all the upper ones. To refer the origin of the world to the laws of nature is absurd. Law, as Johnson defines it, is a rule of action. It necessarily requires an acting agent, an object designed in the action, means to attain it, and authoritative enforcement of the use of those means by a lawgiver. Are the laws of nature laws given by some supposed intelligent being, worshiped by the heathen of old, and by the atheists of modern times, under that name? Or do they signify the orderly and regular sequence of cause and effect, which is so manifest in the course of all events? If, as atheists say, the latter, this is the very thing we want them to account for. How came the world to be under law without a lawgiver? Where there is law, there must be design. Chance is utterly inconsistent with the idea of law. Where there is design there must, of necessity, be a designer. Matter in any shape, stones or lightnings, mud or magnets, can not think, contrive, design, give law to itself, or to any thing else, much less bring itself into existence. There is no conceivable way of accounting for this orderly world we live in but one or other of these two: Either an intelligent being created the world, or--_the paving stones made themselves_. "Here are two hypotheses, of which the oldest is admitted to offer a full and consistent explanation of all the facts of science. There can be no better cause for any given formation than that God created it so. Men of science, however, allege that creation (out of nothing) is 'scientifically inconceivable;' but this is only throwing dust in our eyes; of course, science can not _verify_ it, neither can it verify any other theory of causation. The question is whether reason can accept the fact, though science can not even imagine the process? If not, there is nothing for us but the _eternity of matter_, for evolution itself has to face the very same difficulty when asked to account for its primal germ. It is surely more conceivable that God created the first matter out of nothing, than that nothing evolved something out of itself, by an imminent law of its nature. This point, however, our scientific men are sadly given to shirking. They profess in general not to hold the eternity of matter, but they have nothing to suggest for its origin. They accept it as the starting point of evolution, and decline to speculate on its cause. This, as Dr. Christlieb observes of Bauer's kindred system of criticism, is 'beginning without a beginning--everything is already extant'. We may as well start with species, as with protoplasm, if the inquiry is not to be pushed beyond the fact. The evolutionist is bound to answer whether the process is eternal, or how it began to be. Either it had a beginning or it had not; if it had, creation out of nothing is conceded, and there is nothing left to dispute. It is puerile to except to the _frequency_ of creative acts on the ordinary hypothesis of specific origin, because it is freely open to science to reduce the several 'kinds' to the lowest _minimum_ it can experimentally establish. Moreover--besides the utter inconsequence of such purely relative ideas as _often_ and _rare_--it is far more reasonable that an eternal, personal author of creation should watch over his work to shape and diversify it at his pleasure, than that, after a single act, he should relapse into _inertia_ like the Hindu Brahmin. To concentrate the whole evidence of design in one original act, ages upon ages ago, with no opening for after interference, undermines belief in a personal designer, simply because it leaves him nothing to do."[4] Leaving these brutish among the people who assert the latter, to the enjoyment of their folly, let us ascertain what we can know of the great Creator of the heavens and the earth. God refers the atheists of the Psalmist's days to their own bodies for proofs of his intelligence, to their own minds for proofs of his personality, and to their own observation of the judgments of his providence against evil-doers for proofs of his moral government. Our text ascribes for him perception and intelligence: _He that planted the ear, shall he not hear? He that formed the eye, shall he not see?_ It does not say, he has an eye or an ear, but that he has the knowledge we acquire by those organs. And the argument is from the designed organ to the designing maker of it, and is perfectly irresistible. A blind god could not make a seeing man. Let us look for a little at a few of the many marks of design in this organ to which God thus refers us. We shall first observe the mechanical skill displayed in the formation of the eye, and then the optical arrangements, or rather a few of them, for there are more than eight hundred distinct contrivances already observed by anatomists in the dead eye, while the great contrivance of all, the power of seeing, is utterly beyond their ken. I hold in my hand a box made of several pieces of wood glued together, and covered on the outside with leather. Inside it is lined with cotton, and the cotton has a lining of fine white silk. You at once observe that it is intended to protect some delicate and precious article of jewelry, and that the maker of this box must have been acquainted with the strength of wood, the toughness of leather, the adhesiveness of glue, the softness and elasticity of cotton, the tenacity of silk, and the mode of spinning and weaving it, the form of the jewel to be placed in it, and the danger against which this box would protect it--ten entirely distinct branches of knowledge, which every child who should pick up such a box in the street would unhesitatingly ascribe to its maker. Now, the box in which the eye is placed is composed of seven bones glued together internally, and covered with skin on the outside, lined with the softest fat, enveloped in a tissue compared with which the finest silk is only canvas, and the cavity is shaped so as exactly to fit the eye, while the brow projects over like a roof of a veranda, to keep off falling dust and rain from injuring it while the lid is open; and the eyebrows, like a thatch sloping outward, conduct the sweat of the brow, by which a man earns his bread, away around the outer cover, that it may not enter the eye and destroy the sight. If it were preposterous nonsense to say that electricity, or magnetism, or odyle, contrived and made a little bracelet box, how much more absurd to ascribe the making of the cavity of the eye to any such cause. Let us next look at the shape of the eye. You observe it is nearly round in its section across, and rather oval in its other direction, and the cavity it lies in is shaped exactly to fit it. Now there are eyes in the world angular and triangular, and even square; and as you may readily suppose, the creatures which have them can not move them; to compensate for such inconvenience, some of them, as the common fly, have several hundred. But, unless our heads were as large as sugar hogsheads, we could not be so furnished, and we must either have movable eyes or see only in one direction. Accordingly, the Contriver of the eye has hung it with a hinge. Now there are various kinds of hinges, moving in one direction, and the Maker of the eye might have made a hinge on which the eye would move up and down, or he might have given us a hinge that would bend right and left, in which case we should have been able merely to squint a little in two directions. But to enable one to see in every direction, there is only one kind of hinge that would answer the purpose--the ball and socket joint--and the Former of the eye has hung it with such a hinge, retaining it in its place partly by the projection of the bones of the face, and partly by the muscles and the optic nerve, which is about as thick as a candlewick, and as tough as leather. Most of you have seen a ship, and know the way the yards are moved, and turned, and squared by ropes and pulleys. The rigging of the eye, though not so large, is fully as curious. There is a tackle, called a muscle, to pull it down when you want to look down; another tackle to pull it up when you have done; one to pull it to the right, and another to the left; there is one fastened to the eyeball in two places, and geared through a pulley which will make it move in any direction, as when we roll our eyes; and the sixth, fastened to the under side of the eye, keeps it steady when we do not need to move it. Then the eyelids are each provided with appropriate gearing, and need to have it durable too, for it is used thirty thousand times a day; in fact every time we wink. If God had neglected to place these little cords to pull up the eyelash, we should all have been in the condition of the unfortunate gentleman described by Dr. Nieuwentyt, who was obliged to pull up his eyelashes with his fingers whenever he wanted to see. There is, too, another admirable piece of forethought and skill displayed by the Former of the eye, in providing a liquid to wash it, and a sponge to wipe it with, and a waste pipe, through the bone of the nose, to carry off the tears which have been used in washing and moistening the eye. Now what absurdity to say that a law of nature, say gravity, or electricity, or magnetism has such knowledge of the principles of mechanics as the eye proclaims its Former to have--that it could make a choice among multitudes of shapes of eyes and kinds of joints, and this choice the very best for our convenience; and that having known and chosen, it could have manufactured the various parts of this complicated machine. Such a machine requires an intelligent manufacturer; and yet we have only as yet been looking at the dead eye, paying no regard to sight at all. Even a blind man's eye prove an intelligent Creator. Let us now turn our thoughts to the instrument of sight. The optic nerve is the part of the eye which conveys visions to the mind. Suppose, instead of being where you observe it, at the back part of the eye, it had been brought out to the front, and that reflections from objects had fallen directly upon it. It is obvious that it would have been exposed to injury from every floating particle of dust, and you would always have felt such a sensation as is caused by a burn or scald when the skin peels off, and leaves the ends of the nerves exposed to the air. The tender points of the fibers of the optic nerve, too, would soon become blunted and broken, and the eye, of course, useless. How, then, is the nerve to be protected, and yet the sight not obstructed? If it were covered with skin, as the other nerves are, you could not see through it. For thousands of years after men had eyes and used them, they knew no substance, at once hard and transparent, which could answer the double purpose of protection and vision. And to this day they know none hard enough for protection, clear enough for vision, and elastic enough to resume its form after a blow. But men did the best they could, and put a round piece of brittle but transparent glass in a ring of tougher metal for the protection of the hands of a watch; and he who first invented the watch crystal thought he had made a discovery. Now, observe in the eye, that forward part is the watch glass; the cornea, made of a substance at once hard, transparent and elastic--which man has never been able to imitate--set into the sclerotica, that white, muscular coat which constitutes the white of your eye, acts as a frame for the cornea, and answers another important purpose, as we shall presently see. [Illustration: Structure of the Human Eye] But, supposing the end of the nerve protected by the glass, we might have had it brought up to the glass without any interposing lenses or humors, as, in fact, is nearly the case with some crustacea. We can not well imagine all the inconveniences of such an eye to us. If we could see distinctly at all, we could not see much farther or wider than the breadth of the end of the nerve at once. Our sight would then be very like that faculty of perceiving colors by the points of the fingers, which some persons are said to possess. In that case, seeing would only be a nicer kind of groping, and our eyes would be more conveniently fixed on the points of our fingers; or, as with many insects, on the ends of long antennae. Such a form of eye is precisely suited to the wants of an animal which has not an idea beyond its food, which has no business with any object too large for its mouth, and whose great concern is to stick to a rock and catch whatever animalculæ the water floats within the grasp of its feelers. But for a being whose intercourse should be with all the works of God, and whose chief end in such intercourse should be to behold the Creator reflected in his works, it was manifestly necessary to have a wider and larger range of vision; and, therefore, a different form of eye. Both these objects, breadth of field combined with length of range, are obtained by placing the optic nerve at the back of the eye, and interposing several lenses, through which objects are observed. By this arrangement a visual angle is secured, and all objects lying within it are distinctly visible at the same time. This faculty of perceiving several objects at the same time is a special property of sight which tends greatly to enlarge our conceptions of the knowledge of Him who gave it. A man who never saw can have no idea of it. He can not taste two separate tastes at once, nor smell two distinct smells at once; nor feel more than one object with each hand at once; and if he hears several sounds at the same time, they either flow into each other, making a harmony, or confuse him with their discord. Yet we are all conscious that we see a vast variety of distinct and separate objects at one glance of our eyes. I think it is manifest that the Former of such an eye not only intended its owner to observe such a vast variety of objects, but from the capacity of his own sight to infer the vastly wider range of vision of Him who gave it. Besides the breadth of the field of vision, we also require length of range for the purpose of life. The thousand inconveniences which the short-sighted man so painfully feels are obvious to all. Yet it may tend to reconcile such to their lot to know that thousands of the liveliest and merriest of God's creatures can not see an inch before them. Small birds and insects, which feed on very minute insects, need eyes like microscopes to find them; while the eagle and the fish hawk, which soar up till they are almost out of sight, can distinctly see the hare or the herring a mile below them, and so must have eyes like telescopes. We, too, need to observe minute objects very closely, as when we read fine print, or when a lady threads a fine needle at microscope range; but, if confined to that range, we could not see our friends across the room, or find our way to the next street. Again, in traveling we need to see objects miles away, and at night we see the stars millions of miles away; but then, if confined to the long range, we should be strangers at home, and never get within a mile of any acquaintance. Now, how to combine these two powers, of seeing near objects and distant ones with the same eye, is the problem which the Maker of the eye had to solve. Let us look how man tried to solve it. A magnifying lens will collect the rays from any distant object, and convey them to a point called the focus. Then suppose we put this glass in the tube of an opera-glass, or pocket spy-glass, and look through the eye-hole and the concave lens, properly adjusted, in front of it, we shall see the image of the object considerably magnified. But suppose the object draws very near, we see nothing distinctly; for the rays reflected from it, which were nearly parallel while it was at a distance, are no longer so when it comes near, but scatter in all directions, and those which fall on the lens are collected at a point much nearer to the lens than before, and the eye-glass must be pushed forward to that focus. Accordingly, you know that the spy-glass is made to slide back and forward, and the telescope has a screw to lengthen or shorten the tube according to the distance of the objects observed. Another way of meeting the case would be by taking out the lens, and putting in one of less magnifying power, a flatter lens, for the nearer object. Now, at first sight, it would seem a very inconvenient thing to have eyes drawing out and in several inches like spy-glasses, and still more inconvenient to have twenty or thirty pairs of eyes, and to need to take out our eyes, and put in a new set twenty times a day. The ingenuity of man has been at work hundreds of years to discover some other method of adapting an optical instrument to long and short range, but without success. Now, the Former of the eye knew the properties of light and the properties of lenses before the first eye was made; he knew the mode of adjusting them for any distance, from the thousands of millions of miles between the eye and the star, to the half-inch distance of the mote in the sunbeam; and he had not only availed himself of both the principles which opticians discovered, but has executed his work with an infinite perfection which bungling men may admire, but can never imitate. The sclerotic coat of the eye, and the choroid which lies next it are full of muscles which, by their contraction, both press back the crystalline lens nearer the retina, and also flatten it; the vitreous humor, in which the crystalline lens lies, a fine, transparent humor, about as thick as the white of an egg, giving way behind it, and also slightly altering its form and power of refraction to suit the case. Thus, that which the astronomer, or the microscopist, performs by a tedious process, and then very imperfectly, we perform perfectly, easily, instantly, and almost involuntarily, with that perfect compound microscope and telescope invented by the Former of the human eye. Surely, in giving us an instrument so admirably fitted for observing the lofty grandeur of the heavens and the lowlier beauties of the earth, he meant to allure us to the discovery of the perfections of the great Designer and Former of all these wondrous works. But there is another contrivance in the eye, adapted to lead us further to the consideration of the extent of the knowledge of its power. We are placed in a world of variable lights, of day and night, and of all the variations between light and darkness. We can not see in the full blaze of light, nor yet in utter darkness. Had the eye been formed to bear only the noonday glare, we had been half blind in the afternoon, and wholly so in the evening. If the eye were formed so as to see at night, we had been helpless as owls in the day. But the variations of light in the atmosphere may be in some measure compensated, as we know, by regulating the quantity admitted to our houses--shutting up the windows. When we wish to regulate the admission of light to our rooms, we have recourse to various clumsy contrivances; paper blinds, perpetually tearing, sunblind rollers that will not roll, venetian blinds continually in need of mending, awnings blowing away with every storm, or shutters, which shut up and leave us in entire darkness. A self-acting window, which shall expand with the opening of light in the mornings and evenings, and close up of its own accord as the light increases toward noon, has never been manufactured by man. But the Former of the eye took note of the necessities and conveniences of the case, and besides giving a pair of shutters to close up when we go to sleep, he has given the most admirable sunblinds ever invented. The nerve of the eye at the back of its chamber can not see without light, and its light comes through the little round window called the pupil, or black of the eye--which is simply a hole in the iris, or colored part. Now this iris is formed of two sets of muscles: one set of elastic rings, which, when left to themselves, contract the opening; and another set at right angles to them, like the spokes of a wheel, pulling the inner edge of the iris in all directions to the outside. In fact it is not so much a sunblind, as a self-acting window, opening and closing the aperture according to our need of light, and doing this so instantaneously that we are not sensible of the process. It is self-evident that the Maker of such an eye was acquainted with the properties of light, and the alternations of night and day, as well as with the mechanical contrivances for adjusting the eye to these variable circumstances. He has given us an eye capable of seeking knowledge among partial darkness, and of availing itself for this purpose of imperfect light; an apt symbol of our mental constitution and moral situation in a world where good and evil, light and darkness, mix and alternate. Perhaps some one is ready to ask, What is the use of so many lenses in the eye? It seems as if the crystalline lens and the optic nerve were sufficient for the purpose of sight, with the cornea simply to protect them. What is the use of the aqueous humor and the vitreous humor? Light, when refracted through the lens, becomes separated into its component colors--red, yellow, green, blue, and violet; and the greater the magnifying power of the lens, and the brighter the object viewed, the greater the dispersion of the rays. So that if the crystalline lens of the eye alone were used, we should see every white object bluish in the middle, and yellowish and reddish at the edges; or, in vulgar language, we should see starlight. This difficulty perplexed Sir Isaac Newton all his life, and he never discovered the mode of making a refracting telescope which would obviate it. But M. Dolland, an optician, reflecting that the very same difficulty must have presented itself to the Maker of the eye, determined to ascertain how he had obviated it. He found that the Maker of the eye had a knowledge of the fact that different substances have different powers of refracting or bending the rays of light which pass through them, and that liquids have generally a different power of refraction from solids. For instance, if you put a straight stick in water, the part under water will seem bent at a considerable angle, while if you put the stick through a little hole in a pane of glass it will not seem so much bent. He further discovered that oil of cassia had a different power of refraction from water, and the white of an egg still a different power. He discovered also that the first lens of the eye, the aqueous humor, is very like water; that the crystalline lens is a firm jelly, and that the vitreous humor is about the consistency of the white of an egg. The combination of these three lenses, of different powers of refraction, secures the correction of their separate errors. He could not make telescope lenses of jelly, nor water; therefore, he could not make a perfect achromatic telescope, but he learned the lesson of mutual compensations of difficulties which the Maker of the eye teaches the reflecting anatomist, and procuring flint and crown glass of different degrees of refraction, he arranged them in the achromatic lens so as nearly to remedy the defect. I think that you will at once admit that Dolland's attempt to remedy the evils of confused sight in the telescope indicated a desire to obtain a precise and correct view of the objects; and that his success in constructing an instrument, nearly perfect, for the use of astronomers, gave evidence that he himself had a clear idea of that perfect and accurate vision which he thus attempted to bestow on them. Shall we then imagine any inaccuracy in the sight of Him, who not only desired, but executed and bestowed on us, an instrument so perfectly adapted to the imperfections of this lower world, and whose very imperfections are the materials from which he produces clear and perfect vision? No! in God's eye there are no chromatic refractions of passions, or prejudice, or party feeling, or self-love. He sees no reflected or refracted light. O Father of Light! with whom is no variableness, or shadow of turning, open our eyes to behold Thee clearly! Our text thus leads us to a knowledge of God's character, from the structure of the bodies he has given us. He that formed my eye sees. Though my feeble vision is by no means a standard or limit for his Omniscience, yet I may conclude that every perfection of the power of sight he has given me existed previously in him. Has he endowed me, a poor puny mortal, the permanent tenant of only two yards of earth, with an eye capable of ranging over earth's broad plains and lofty mountains, of traversing her beauteous lakes and lovely rivers, of scanning her crowded cities, and inspecting all their curious productions, and specially delighting to investigate the bodily forms of men, and their mental characters displayed on the printed page? Has he given me the principle of curiosity, without which such an endowment were useless? Then most undoubtedly he has Himself both the desire to observe all the works of his hands, and the power to gratify that desire. The Former of the eye must of necessity be the great Observer. Wheresoever an eye is found of his handiwork, and wheresoever sight is preserved by his skill, let the owner of such an instrument know that if he can see, God can, and as surely as he sees, God does. If it is possible for us to behold many objects distinctly at once, it is not impossible for God to behold more. If he has given us an eye to look from earth to heaven, then his eye sees from heaven to earth. If I can see accurately, God's inspection is much more impartial. And if he has given me the power of adjusting my imperfect vision to the varying lights and shades of this changing scene, let me not dream for a moment that he is destitute of a corresponding power of investigating difficulties, and penetrating darknesses, and bringing to light hidden works and secret things. God is light. In him is no darkness at all. Neither is there any creature that is not manifest in his sight, but all things are naked and opened to the eyes of him with whom I have to do. He has seen all my past life--my faults, my follies, and my crimes. When I thought myself in darkness and privacy, God's eye was upon me there. In the turmoil of business, God's eye was upon me. In the crowd of my ungodly companions, God's eye was upon me. In the darkness and solitude of night, God's eye was upon me. And God's eye is on me now, and will follow me from this house, and will watch me and observe all my actions, on--on--on--while God lives, and wheresoever God's creation extends. "O God, Thou has searched and known me; Thou knowest my down sitting and mine uprising; Thou understandest my thoughts afar off. Thou compassest my path and my lying down, And art acquainted with all my ways For there is not a word in my tongue, But, lo! O Lord, Thou knowest it altogether. Thou hast beset me behind and before, and laid thine hand upon me. Such knowledge is too wonderful for me! It is high, I can not attain unto it; Whither shall I go from thy Spirit? And whither shall I flee from thy presence? If I ascend up into heaven, Thou art there, If I make my bed in hell, behold, Thou art there! If I take the wings of the morning, And dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea, Even there shall thy hand lead me, And thy right hand shall hold me. If I say, 'Surely the darkness shall cover me,' Even the night shall be light about me; Yea the darkness hideth not from thee, But the night shineth as the day, The darkness and the light are both alike to Thee." FOOTNOTES: [1] Reid's Chemistry, II. § 37. [2] Johnson's Turner's Chemistry, § 341. [3] It might be supposed that such a theory is too palpably absurd to be believed by any save the inmates of a lunatic asylum, had not the writer, and hundreds of the citizens of Cincinnati, seen a lecturer perform the ordinary experiment of producing colored precipitates by mixing colorless solutions, as a demonstration of the self-acting powers of matter. Common sense, being a gift of God, is righteously withdrawn from those who deny him. [4] John Bull. CHAPTER II. WAS YOUR MOTHER A MONKEY? In the previous chapter we saw the evidences of God's skill and wisdom in the adaptations of nature, fitting the organs of animals for hearing, walking, and eating, and especially in the structure of the human eye. This has long been owned by candid minds as an unanswerable argument, demonstrating the being of God by the works of his hands. But since that chapter was written a school of scientists has arisen, of whom Mr. Darwin is at present the most popular, claiming to be able to show how all the species of living things can evolve, not only their eyes, but their legs and wings and lungs, and every part of them, from a little bit of primeval life stuff, called protoplasm, by the influence of Natural Selection. Mr. Darwin owns that the formation of an eye is rather a tough job for a little pin point germ of protoplasm; but he has no doubt that it has been done, and he writes several books to show us how. We propose to look into this self-evolving process, as he and his brother evolutionists describe their theory. It is necessary, right here at the outset, to distinguish the theory of the evolutionists from the great fact of evolution. Almighty God created the world, not only for his own pleasure, but also for his own glory, that men and angels might learn to know him by his works. Creation is thus God's great object lesson for men and angels to learn. But learning is a process, gradual, slow, from one step to another. Therefore the object lesson must not be precipitated all in a heap upon the infantile intellects of the learners, but unfolded by degrees. Geologists assure us that so it was in the past; that first the lifeless strata were deposited; next, light was evolved; afterward, fishes, and marine reptiles, and birds; then came the carboniferous or plant era; afterward the mammalia; last of all man. You observe here an ascending scale of creation, beginning with first principles and simple forms, and ascending to the most complicated; a series of experiments in God's great lecture-room, illustrative of the various steps of the evolution of the divine idea. But six thousand years before geology was born Moses described this same evolution of creation, in the first chapter of Genesis. As he could not have learned it from any science known in his day, God Himself must have shown it to him. The divine idea is still in process of evolution for our instruction. We behold it in the continual formation of new strata by the destruction of the old; in the chemical combinations of the elements of the air, sea, and earth; in the evolution of the grass from the seed, and of the oak from the acorn; in the development of the insect germ into the caterpillar, and the butterfly; in the hatching of the egg into the chicken; and in the growth of the infant into the man. We observe also a divine development of society, an advance of civilization, a providential guidance of history, and a fall and disorder among mankind, with a process of redemption, medical, educational, political and religious, for the human race. The whole process, therefore, of the creation, natural history, and moral government of the world, is the development of a divine idea, according to a divine plan, by the direct or mediate efficacy of divine power, for the accomplishment of the divine purpose as revealed to us in the divine word, the Holy Scriptures. Galen taught that the study of physiology was a divine hymn. This divine development is to be clearly and sharply distinguished from the atheistic theory of evolution. They differ in the following particulars: 1. The divine development of the world is a great fact; the theory of atheistic evolution is only a baseless theory, a fiction. 2. The divine development begins in the beginning, with God, creating the heavens and the earth; but the theory of atheistic evolution has no beginning, asserting the eternal existence of a changing world. 3. The divine development is the unfolding of an intelligent plan, showing the adaptation of means to ends for the accomplishment of a purpose; the atheistic theory of evolution denies plan, purpose, adaptation and final cause. 4. The divine development is conducted, and continually reinforced by the will of the Omnipotent God; the atheistic development evolves only the forces of matter. 5. The divine development has a moral character, and terminates in the highest holiness and happiness of all obedient men and angels; but the atheistic development contemplates and promises only the evolution of animal instinct and passions, the eternal death of the individual, and, for the universe, only purposeless cycles of progress, and catastrophies of ruin. In this chapter we discuss only the theory of atheistic evolution. In the discussion of all questions affecting human life it is advantageous to trace them to their origin, and to follow them out to their practical results. Thus we get a clear view of the whole subject, and are enabled to assign to it its proper influence. It is also a great benefit to the mass of mankind to conduct such discussions in plain language, and to translate the roundabout phrases, and the Latinized words of scientific men, as much as we can, into the vulgar tongue; to state the subjects of discussion so as to be understood of the people. So we shall put the whole business of Darwinism and development before you, reader, in a nutshell, by simply asking you the question at the head of this chapter, "Was your mother a monkey?" What a question! Well, then, your grandmother? her grandmother? or does it seem less offensive, or more likely to you to go back some thousands of years, and say your forefathers were apes? That is exactly what Mr. Darwin says when we translate his scientific language into the vulgar tongue: "The early progenitors of man were no doubt once covered with hair, both sexes having beards; their ears were pointed and capable of movement; and their bodies were provided with a tail having the proper muscles. The foot, judging from the condition of the great toe in the foetus, was then prehensile, and our progenitors, no doubt, were arboreal in their habits, frequenting some warm forest-clad land. The males were provided with great canine teeth, which served them as formidable weapons."[5] This ancient form "if seen by a naturalist, would undoubtedly have been ranked as an ape or a monkey. And as man, under a genealogical point of view, belongs to the CATARHINE or Old World stock (of monkeys), we must conclude, however much the conclusion may revolt our pride, that our early progenitors would have been properly thus designated."[6] So here you have your genealogy, name and thing fully described. Mr. Darwin thinks it is quite an honorable pedigree: "Thus we have given to man a pedigree of prodigious length, but not, it may be said, of noble quality. * * * Unless we willfully close our eyes, we may, with our present knowledge, approximately recognize our parentage, nor need we feel ashamed of it. The most humble organism is something much higher than the inorganic dust under our feet; and no one with an unbiased mind can study any living creature, however humble, without being struck with enthusiasm at its marvelous structure and properties."[A] There are people, however, who do not grow enthusiastic at the idea of their long-tailed progenitors; but there is no accounting for taste in such matters! For elderly people, who do not take so enthusiastically to monkeys as his junior readers, Mr. Darwin has provided a rather less gymnastic ancestry. How would you like to have a fish for your forefather? If it were one of Neptune's noble tritons, or the Philistine fish-god, Dagon, or a mermaid, it might not be so repulsive as the ape; or even a twenty-pound salmon, flashing its silver and blue in the sunlight as it spins the line off the reel, might not be so utterly disgusting as the monkey burlesque of humanity. But, alas! Mr. Darwin has been sent to this proud nineteenth century as the prophet to teach us humility, and here is the scientific statement of the structure of our fishy forefathers: "At a still earlier period the progenitors of man must have been aquatic in their habits, for morphology plainly tells us that our lungs consist of a modified swim bladder which once served as a float. These early predecessors of man thus seen in the dim recesses of time must have been as lowly organized as the lancelot or amphibioxus, or even still more lowly organized."[7] That certainly is a very humble origin. We are not, however, by any means to the end of our pedigree. Mr. Darwin says that your codfish aristocracy are descended from a race of squirts--the squirts which you picked up on the shore and squeezed, when you were a boy, discharging these primitive Babcock Extinguishers upon your playfellows, irreverently regardless of the harm done the poor squirt, the ancestor of the human race. If you doubt it, here is the latest deliverance of infallible science upon the subject. He describes the Ascidians: "They hardly appear like animals, and consist of a simple tough leathery sack, with two small projecting orifices. They belong to the Molluscoida of Huxley, a lower division of the great family of the Mollusca; but they have recently been placed by some naturalists among the vermes or worms. Their larvæ somewhat resemble tadpoles in shape, and have the power of swimming freely about. * * * We should thus be justified in believing that, at an extremely remote period, a group of animals existed resembling in many respects the larvæ of our present Ascidians, which diverged into two great branches, the one retrograding in development and producing the present class of Ascidians, the other rising to the crown and summit of the animal kingdom, by giving birth to the vertebrata."[8] Thus it appears that Mr. Darwin deduces his origin, and that of mankind in general, from one of these Ascidians, or, in plain English, makes them a race of squirts. The notion of evolution is a belief that all living beings, plants as well as animals, have not been created, but, like Topsy, just grew, from the very smallest germs or spores. Evolutionists inform us that all kinds of organisms have been evolved from four or five primeval germs or spores; or more consistently with their great principle, that the simple gave birth to the differentiated, from one primeval germ or egg. Mr. Darwin alleges four or five primal forms, acknowledging that analogy would lead him up to one. But other members of this school consistently and boldly follow up the stream to its fountain, and allege a single primeval living seed as the origin of all living things, and that this must have been a microscopic animalcule, or plant spore, of the very lowest order, which, multiplying its kind, gave birth to improved and enlarged offspring; and they, in their turn, grew, and multiplied, and differentiated into varieties; and so, in the course of endless ages, the poorer sorts perishing and the better sorts prospering, the world became filled with its existing populations, without any new creative acts of God, and without any particular providential care over the new species. The particular process according to which this multiplication and improvement took place, Mr. Darwin calls Natural Selection. Every creature tends to increase and multiply; and the very slowest breeders would soon fill the earth, were their multiplication not checked by hunger, by the attacks of enemies, and by the struggle for existence. But all are not born alike strong, or swift, or of the same color; some of the same brood are better fitted to escape enemies, or to fight the battle of life, than others. These will survive, while the weak ones perish. This Mr. Wallace calls, the survival of the fittest. They will transmit their superior size, or swiftness, or better color, or whatever superiority they possess, to their offspring. The process will go on in successive generations, each adding an infinitesimal quantity to the stock gained by the past generation; just as breeders of improved stock increase the weight of cattle by breeding from the largest; or breeders of race-horses increase the speed by breeding from the swiftest. In this way varieties from the same family will grow into different species. And, as only those differences which are beneficial to the animal are preserved, they will grow into improved species; and, as variations of all sorts take place, so all sorts of varieties and species arise in process of time. All will thus tend to perfect themselves according to the laws of nature, and without any special oversight or care of God, or of anybody but Natural Selection; which Mr. Darwin takes special care to describe as an unintelligent selector. He defines the nature which selects to be "the aggregate action and product of natural laws," and these laws are "the sequences of events as ascertained by us." He ridicules the idea of God's special endowment of the fantail pigeon with additional feathers, or of the bull dog's jaws with strength, and says, "But if we give up the principle in the one case, if we do not admit that the variations of the primeval dog were intentionally guided in order, for instance, that the greyhound, that perfect image of symmetry and vigor, might be formed; no shadow of reason can be assigned for the belief that variations alike in nature, and the results of the same general laws which have been the groundwork through Natural Selection of the most perfectly adapted animals in the world, man included, were intentionally and specially guided."[9] This, then, is the grand distinctive difference of Mr. Darwin's mode of producing the various animals; namely, that it is unintelligent, their variations are not designed nor intended by the Creator, but they are the results of a method of trial and error, producing a hit-and-miss pattern. The failures all perish, and the successes live and prosper; but there is no intentional or special guidance of God in the business. And the business includes the whole process of peopling the globe, from the creation of the first four or five germs down to the last formation of human society. God is thus dismissed from the greatest part of the world's life, including all human affairs. This is not exactly atheism in theory, but practically it amounts to much the same thing. It is this excommunication of God's agency from the management of the world, and especially from human affairs, by Mr. Darwin's method, which has so commended his books to the ungodly world. There is a general agreement among this class of writers, that Mr. Darwin has destroyed the basis of the argument for the being of God from design as displayed in the adaptations of birds and beasts to their conditions. Mr. Huxley says that "when he first read Mr. Darwin's book, what struck him most forcibly was the conviction that teleology, as commonly understood, had received its death blow at Mr. Darwin's hands."[10] "For the notion that every organism has been created as it is, and launched straight at a purpose, Mr. Darwin substitutes the conception of something which may fairly be termed a method of trial and error. Organisms vary incessantly; of these variations the few meet with surrounding conditions which suit them and thrive; the many are unsuited and become extinguished. * * * For the teleologist (the Christian) an organism exists, because it was made for the conditions in which it was found. For the Darwinian an organism exists, because out of many of its kind it is the only one which has been able to persist in the conditions in which it was found. * * * If we apprehend the spirit of the Origin of Species rightly, then nothing can be more entirely and absolutely opposed to teleology, as it is commonly understood, than the Darwinian theory."[11] Prof. Haeckel argues to the same purpose that Darwin's theory leads inevitably to Atheism and Materialism. Dr. Buchner says of Darwin's theory, "It is the most thoroughly naturalistic that can be imagined, and far more atheistic than that of his decried predecessor, Lamarck." Carl Vogt also commends it because "It turns the Creator, and his occasional intervention in the revolution of the earth and in the production of species, without any hesitation out of doors, inasmuch as it does not leave the smallest room for the agency of such a Being. The first living germ being granted, out of it the creation develops itself progressively by Natural Selection, through all the geologic periods of our planet, by the simple law of descent. No new species arise by creation, and none perishes by annihilation; the natural cause of things, the process of evolution of all organisms, and of the earth itself, is of itself sufficient for the production of all we see. Thus man is not a special creation, produced in a different way, and distinct from other animals, endowed with an individual soul, and animated by the breath of God; on the contrary, man is only the highest product of the progressive evolution of animal life, springing from the group of apes next below him."[12] Whether, therefore, Mr. Darwin himself intends his theory to be atheistic or not, it has had the misfortune to be so viewed by the greater number of its supporters; and, accordingly, it is this view of it which we shall keep prominent in the following discussion. Mr. Darwin does undoubtedly intend his theory to be antagonistic to the Bible account of creation and providence, and an improvement upon it; and, whether atheistic or not, it is undoubtedly anti-Christian. _I. The History of the Theory._ The first thing which strikes a common person on first hearing this theory is that it is a very queer notion for any Christian man to invent. We are naturally curious to know how a man, educated in a Christian country, could have fallen into it. But it is, in fact, no new discovery, but an old heathen superstition. Some four hundred years before Christ, when the world had almost wholly apostatized into idolatry, Democritus, among the Greeks, became offended with the vulgar heathen gods, and set himself to invent a plan of the world without them. From Eastern travelers the Greeks knew that the Brahmins, in India, had a theory of the world developing itself from a primeval egg. He set himself to refine upon it, and imagined virtually the Nebular Hypothesis. He said that all matter consisted of very small atoms, dancing about in all directions, from all eternity, and which at last happened into the various forms of the present world. The ancient Phoenicians held a theory that all life was from the sea; and that, as the wet mud produces all sorts of herbs in spring now, so originally it produced all manner of animals. They worshiped it as a god, and called it Mot, or Mud. Anaximander took up the theory and carried it out in true Darwinian style, alleging that the first men sprang from the ground watered by the sea, and that they had spines like sea urchins; evidently deriving them from the Radiates. Lucretius still further developed the theory in a poem in six books. The spread of Christianity, however, hindered the spread of the doctrine, as Mr. Tyndall feelingly laments, until the Saracens overspread the East, when some of them, it seems, favored it. But it seems to be an unlucky dogma, since, with the downfall of the power of the false prophet, the anti-Christian form of science went down again. The dogma of the transmutation of species reappeared, however, in the Romish Church in a religious form; the old heathenism, which had never been wholly banished from the minds of men, thus reasserting itself. About the tenth century some began to teach that the bread of the communion of the Lord's Supper was transubstantiated, and the wine also, into the body, and blood, and soul, and divinity of our Lord Jesus Christ. This is probably the most complete transmutation of species which has ever been imagined or described. The evolution of bread into Deity is only equaled by Mr. Tyndall's endowment of matter with all the potencies of life and thought; a miracle differing from the popish transubstantiation only in the element of time, but in its essential nature equally supernatural. The dogma excited great discussion for centuries, and produced as many theories of transubstantiation as we now observe of evolution, keeping philosophic minds and pens busy till the dawn of modern science after the Reformation. La Place threw out the Nebular Hypothesis, which is substantially Democritus' concourse of atoms, only La Place endeavored to substitute circular motions under the law of gravitation, instead of Democritus' chance arrangement, as a sufficient cause for the formation and motions of planets. Herschel's discovery of the nebulæ was hastily laid hold of by a number of writers, and notably by the author of the Vestiges of Creation, as furnishing the primeval matter necessary for world-making; and till the spectroscopic discoveries of the composite nature of gaseous nebulæ, they were claimed as specimens of worlds in process of formation. La Place supposed his nebulous matter to be gas in a state of white-heat combustion, compared with which the heat of the hottest fire would be a cool bath. In no other way could he dissipate the world's substance into sufficient thinness for his vortices. But Spencer saw that this tremendous heat would be fatal to all forms of life, and especially to sensitive beings; and Tyndall shows us that this original matter must have had all the potencies of life and sensation, and a potency of sensation means being able to feel. Now the worst fate threatened against sinners in the Bible is a place in the lake burning with fire and brimstone, which burns at 500° Fahrenheit; but the temperature of the original fire-mist was a thousand times hotter. Some of these scientists call such a fate as the Bible threatens against the wicked, cruel. But here is a hell manufactured by the evolutionists infinitely worse than that of the Bible; for the hell of the Bible is only for the wicked, but the evolutionists' hell is indiscriminately for all, saints and sinners, and all sorts of creatures, innocent as babes unborn of any crime; yet they, or, which is the same thing, the matter containing all the potency of their sensations, that is their power of feeling, were born in this hell, and kept in it from all eternity, until it pleased the evolutionists to begin to cool it down a little. However, it was rather scientific than benevolent reasons which induced Mr. Spencer to reverse the order of procedure, and make his star dust cold to begin with, and to heat it up by condensation and pressure to about the temperature of molten iron; which was still an uncomfortably warm lodging for Mr. Tyndall's potencies of sensation for some millions of years. The division of opinion about the original nebulæ, however, still prevails; some evolutionists of the old-fashioned order still taking their nebulæ hot, while others, with Spencer, prefer it cold, with star dust. As to the Spontaneous Generation of life, there has been less progress of opinion, though great variety has been exhibited. Ovid and Virgil describe the way in which a carcass produces bees. It was generally believed that putrid meat produced the maggots, till the blow-flies were discovered laying their eggs. Then it was alleged that the entozoa, the worms found in the bodies of animals, were self-produced, without eggs, until the microscope discovered that one could lay 60,000 eggs. Strauss, however, adhered to the idea that as the tapeworm, as he supposed, was self-produced, so man was originated by the primeval slime. So also Professor Vogt, and M. Tremaux develop their animals from the land, and the latter accounts for their various qualities from the various qualities of their respective birthplaces, the crop being conditioned by the soil. But Mr. Darwin derives all his organisms from the sea. Electricity in its galvanic form was for a while the agent to fire the earthly or marine mud with the vital spark; and Mr. Crosse's experiments were supposed instances of the creation of acarii or mites in the battery bath, until it was found that the bath contained eggs and the electricity only hatched them. Some English evolutionists still adhere to the theory of Spontaneous Generation, but the leading Germans deny any instance of it being known. Huxley denies that any case of it has been established as now practicable; but supposes that if we could have been present at the beginning of the world, when all the elements were young and vigorous, we should have seen the chemical elements of the earth and air combining to form living beings, by the mere powers of their nature. If that were the fact, it would be a fact unique and unparalleled, utterly out of the course of nature, and so as contrary to the theory of evolution as if these living beings had been inspired with life by Almighty God. So the theory here again is divided. Two utterly irreconcilable ideas of the origin of life claim our belief--the theories of Biogenesis, and of Abiogenesis, the one says all life is from the egg, and has always been so; and so we have an eternal begetting of finite creatures; the other alleges the spontaneous beginning of plants and animals; a fact, if it be a fact, as unparalleled as creation, and far more miraculous. As to the history of the progress of the germs of plants and animals thus produced, we find still greater diversities of opinion, not only as to details, but as to principles. Each inventor has added to, or altered, the original idea of evolution, until it has been burdened with more improvements and new patents than the sewing machine; only the evolutionary improvements bid fair to improve the theory out of existence. We have seen M. Tremaux, with the autochthonic Athenians, deriving the powers of improvement of plants and animals from their native soils. Lamarck on the contrary, inspired all his plants and animals--fungi and frogs, and elephants and apes--with the desire of getting on in the world and improving their limbs by exercise; so the greyhound grew slim and fleet by running; the giraffe's neck elongated by reaching up to the branches of the trees on which it browsed, and the duck acquired web feet by swimming. Others attributed the evolution of differences to external conditions. The negro became black by exposure to the tropical sun; the arctic hare received its coat of thick white fur from the cold climate, and the buffalo and camel their humps of fat from the sterility of their pastures at certain seasons, and the consequent need of a reserved store of fat for food for the rest of the body. Mr. Darwin's doctrine of Natural Selection refuses Lamarck's notion of any conscious attempt of the plant or animal at improvement; and equally denies the power of external nature to improve anything, except by killing off poor specimens, save in that very limited range where good pastures make fat animals for a season or two. An innate power of accidental variation to a very small amount, and the slow but constant adding up of profitable variations during countless generations, with the killing off of the unimproved breeds by Natural Selection, is his patent populator and improver. But this theory is too slow for the nineteenth century, and so neither Huxley, nor Parsons, nor Mivart, nor even Wallace, accepts the doctrine as Darwin propounds it. It is, in fact, already becoming unpopular among scientific men. Lyell proposed the origination of new species by leaps; as we see great geniuses born of commonplace parents; and Huxley supports that opinion, and Parsons, Owen and Mivart coincide in this inexplicable explanation. The author of the Vestiges of Creation accounts for improved species from a prolongation of the period of gestation. But Hyatt and Cope derive them from quite the contrary process--accelerated development of gestation. MM. Ferris and Kolliker derive them from parthenogenesis, a mode of genesis of which our world offers no example whatever. The origin of man, with all his mental powers and religious aspirations, is the great difficulty. Mr. Mivart excludes man wholly from the influence of Natural Selection, from the time he acquired a soul. Mr. Wallace, rejecting the action of one Supreme Intelligence for everything but the origin of universal forces and laws, "Contemplates the possibility that the development of the essentially human portions of man's structure and intellect may have been determined by the directing influence of some higher intelligent beings acting through natural and universal laws;"[13] _i. e._, the gods of the old heathen nations. And so after twenty-two centuries wandering over the world, we have got back to where Democritus started from--to pure old heathenism. After such a history of the theory of evolution, and in presence of such contradictory presentations by its advocates, I need scarcely say that it is by no means an established scientific principle, were it not for the insolent manner in which some of them assert it as scientifically demonstrated; and denounce the Bible doctrine of creation as mere superstition, "A feather bed of respectable and respected tradition," and warn off Christians from any attempt to investigate theories of cosmogony; and overbear the ignorant by the array of the names of men of science who give their sanction to some phase of the theory. But let it be borne in mind that no well-established scientific principle, no demonstrated law, exhibits such contradictory and conflicting phases as those we have just witnessed. The laws of gravitation, or of chemical affinity, for instance, offer no such contradictions of their adherents; because they are founded on facts, while evolution is a mere notion, founded on ignorance and error, as we shall presently see. Accordingly, by far the greater number of the greatest scientists oppose it, as utterly unscientific, and have recorded their opposition, and the reasons for it. Sir John Herschel and Sir Wm. Thompson, among astronomers, have proclaimed its antagonism to the facts of physical astronomy. No new facts subversive of the foundations of faith in God as recognized in the universe by Bacon, Newton, Boyle, Descartes, Leibnitz, Pascal, Paley and Bell, have been discovered by such scientists as Whewell, Sedgwick, Brewster, Faraday, Hugh Miller, or our American geologists, Dawson, Hitchcock, and Dana. Nor have the deliberate and expanded demonstrations of its unscientific character by the late lamented Agassiz been ever fairly met, much less overturned. I refer to these honored names for the benefit of that large class who must take their science upon faith in some scientific prophet or apostle, in default of any possibility of personal investigation of the facts. Indeed, to the great majority, even of so-called scientific men, their science must be founded upon faith in the dogma of some scientific pope and council. And to such it may be reassuring, amidst the evolutionists' cries of Science! Science! to know that a great many of the greatest scientists, in spite of all these confused assertions, do still believe in Almighty God, do call their souls their own, and hope when they die to go to heaven. As a specimen of the contempt in which this theory is held by the princes of science, read the following extract of an address by Agassiz, at a recent meeting of the Academy of Science:[14] "As I grow older in the ranks of science," said the professor, "I feel more and more the danger of stretching inferences from a few observations to a wide field. I see that the younger generation among naturalists are at this moment falling into the mistake of making assertions and presenting views as scientific principles which are not even based upon real observation. I think it is time that some positive remonstrance be made against that tendency. The manner in which the evolution theory in zoology is treated would lead those who are not special zoologists to suppose that observations have been made by which it can be inferred that there is in nature such a thing as change among organized beings actually taking place. _There is no such thing on record._ It is shifting the ground from one field of observation to another to make this statement, and when the assertions go so far as to exclude from the domain of science those who will not be dragged into this mire of mere assertion, then it is time to protest. "He thought it was intolerant to say he was not on scientific grounds because he was not falling into the path which was occupied by those who maintain that all organized beings have been derived from a few original progenitors. Other supporters of the transmutation doctrine assume that they can demonstrate the changes to have taken place by showing certain degrees of resemblance; but what they never touch is the quality and condition of those few first progenitors from which they were evolved. They assume that they contained all that is necessary to evolve what exists now. That is begging the question at the outset; for if these first prototypes contained the principle of evolution, we should know something about them from observation, and it should be shown that there are such organized beings as are capable of evolution. "I ask, Whence came these properties? If this power and capacity of change is not inherent to the first progenitors, then I ask, Whence came the impulses by which those progenitors which have not this power of change in themselves acquire them? What is the power by which they are started in directions which are not determined by their primitive nature? From the total silence of the supporters of the transmutation theory on these and other points, _he did not think it worth their while to take the slightest notice of this doctrine of evolution in his scientific considerations_. He acknowledged what the evolutionists had done incidentally in scientific research; none had done more than Mr. Darwin. He believed he had been injured woefully by his adherents. He was a far better man than most of his school made him." It is to be acknowledged, however, that many scientists are evolutionists. Mr. Darwin is not alone in his belief. If he were, it would not be worth while to spend time in examining it. Quite a number of scientific men have fallen into it, and lecture and write commendations of it; and it has become quite popular among a certain class who do not like to accept the Bible doctrine that God created man, with its necessary consequence that the creature ought to obey his Creator; and they have proceeded to patch it out into completeness--for, as you observe, it is a little defective; like its own primeval squirt, it lacks a head and a tail--it has neither a beginning nor an end properly fitted to it. It takes a piece out of the middle of the universe from the management of God, but it leaves the beginning and the end totally unaccounted for; telling us neither whence came the first germs, nor whither tends the final fully developed angel. Mr. Darwin, though he calls one of his works, the Origin of Species, really avoids the question of origin. He admits the miracle of the creation of the four or five original germs of life, which, according to the evolutionists, is as unscientific as if he admitted four or five hundred. They desire to escape the operation of God altogether. Moreover, he gives no account of the origin of the law of heredity, by which each being produces its like; nor yet of the origin of the power of variation, according to which profitable variations occur. Here, then, is still a field in which God reigns. But it is specially with Mr. Darwin's admission of the Creator to bestow the origin of life that evolutionists are displeased. If they admit God at the beginning of the world they see plainly that there is no possibility of getting rid of him afterward. Messrs. Huxley, Spencer, Tyndall, Buchner, Haeckel and Vogt combine their forces accordingly to evolve the world as we find it without God's intervention. Mr. Huxley, perceiving that to make either man, or monkey, or nomad, you must have materials, kindly brings a little pitcher of protoplasm, which he calls the physical basis of life. It is the meat our Cæsar feeds on, and indeed, for that matter, all living things. All vegetable and animal tissues are made up mostly of oxygen, hydrogen, carbon and nitrogen; and as the materials of which all living beings are built are the same originally, and are simply these chemical substances with a little iron, salt and lime, with their properties, he will have it that all life, including man's life and thought, is merely a development of protoplasm. This is the clay out of which all the various bricks, and tiles, and tea cups, and porcelain vases of the great world building are built. We don't need to begin with monkeys, nor fish, or pollywogs, now to develop into men, for we go down to the very bottom, since we have the stuff they all are made of, namely, protoplasm. Still this clay needs a potter to mold and bake it. The difficulty about the protoplasm is that it must be _alive_. You can not get a living pollywog, no more than a living elephant, out of dead protoplasm. Mr. Huxley shows very well that all protoplasm consists of the same materials; in fact, that all flesh is grass, as the Scripture says. The difficulty is how to convert the grass into flesh, unless by some animal eating it; or to convert the nitrogen, carbon and water into grass or grain, or any other form of protein or protoplasm, without the previous action of some plant. In short, how are we to make the chemical materials live? Here Mr. Tyndall comes in and endows the matter of the universe with life, and with all the potency of producing bodies and souls. In his famous Belfast Address he says: "Abandoning all disguise, the confession that I feel bound to make before you is that I prolong the vision backward, beyond the boundary of the experimental evidence, and discern in this matter, which we in our ignorance, and notwithstanding our professed reverence for its Creator, have hitherto covered with opprobrium, the promise and potency of every form and quality of life." Yet, after all this marvelous endowment of matter with all potency, we have not got quite back to the beginning. For still the questions arise, Where did this almighty matter come from? Who endowed it with these wonderful potencies? And how does it happen to work so well, in such orderly and regular evolution of star dust, suns, planets, pollywogs, monkeys, men and maggots, in eternal cycles, ever advancing higher and doing better and better for the race, though poorly enough, it appears, for the miserable individuals? Here Buchner, Vogt, Spencer and other materialists come in and perfect that which was lacking; showing how the star dust made itself, and how the paving stones made themselves, and are under no obligations to any Creator but themselves. Matter and force are all they need, and endless time in which to work, and they will account for the universe without any Creator at all. Everything and every person must be just as it is, according to the regular operation of the laws of Nature. As Buchner, Vogt and Spencer have given the system a head, Lubbock, Evans and others have supplied it with a tail, and demonstrated how society, and morals, and religion have been excogitated by the apes out of their meditations in the forests. It is a fearful and wonderful account they give us of the origin of marriage from the battles of the baboons, of the rights of property established by terrible fights for groves of good chestnuts, of the beginnings of morals from the instincts of brutes, and of the dawnings of religion, or rather of superstition, from the dreams of these animals; the result of the whole being that civilization, and society, and law, and order, and religion, are all simply the evolution of the instincts of the brutes, and that there is no necessity for invoking any supernatural interference to produce them. The termination of the whole, as far as you and I are concerned, is that "We shall fade away as the faint cloud melts into the blue ether," into the eternal sleep of death. It thus appears that there is an orderly succession and attempted adjustment of one part of the doctrine of evolution to another, and that all the various workers are cooperating toward one grand result. It is true they differ widely in their professed religious creeds and political partialities. Mr. Darwin avows his belief in a Creator. Mr. Huxley votes on the London School Board for the introduction of the Bible into the public schools. Mr. Spencer is willing to allow the existence of some great unknowable mystery. Some of the French and German evolutionists dispense with any reference to God, as an unnecessary hypothesis. Others oppose the idea of God altogether, as inimical to progress. M. Comte proposed a worship of humanity. M. Strauss would worship the universe. But with all this variety of uniform, and armor, and tactics, the evolutionists are all soldiers of the same army, and are all fighting the same great battle, for the brutal origin of man, and his independence of God. From which independence of God, and brutal origin of mankind, result very important consequences. For the belief of this notion necessarily destroys all faith in the Bible, and in the Christianity which it reveals, and revolutionizes the basis of the civilization founded upon it, and all the laws protecting life, property, marriage and religion; which laws are based upon the belief of mankind in the dignity of man, the sacredness of human life, and the sanction of morality by the All-seeing Judge of all the earth, who will reward every man according to his works. For all practical purposes it makes no great difference whether a man denies that there is any God at all, or admits that there is some kind of a god who created the world millions of years ago, and just set it a spinning to work out its destiny as best it might, but never after concerned himself about it, or its people, and never will; for nobody will ever trouble his head about a god who never troubles his head about him. Most of the evolutionists are zealous advocates of their system. These propagandists have had such a degree of success in attracting public attention, in inspiring a large proportion of the secular press, besides scientific journals, as advocates of their notions, and in obtaining entrance for them into the common school books, put into the hands of our children, and into massive quartos published by State legislatures with the money of Christian people, and in the prevalent corruption of public morals and breach of private trusts necessarily resulting from the evolution of these principles, that we are compelled, in self-defense, to examine the doctrine of evolution. It is all very well for Mr. Tyndall to warn off everybody, but evolutionists, from any investigations into cosmogony; about which he owns that they know very little now, and will not know much for some millions of years to come. But common people, who will not live so long, but who in the meantime have to live and make money, and save it, who have children to rear, and houses which they do not want burned over their heads, who have taxes to pay, increasing every year, and public plunderers to prosecute and whose ballots may be asked one of these days for the substitution of the communes of the original apes, and the Red Republic for these United States, all upon the alleged scientific proof for the truth of the doctrine of evolution, and the consequent abolishment of Christianity--common people, I maintain, by whose money and votes this dogma is to be established, will not be debarred from asking the why and the wherefore, neither by Mr. Tyndall, nor by any other scientific pope. It is a little too late in the day for men who do not know their own mind from the Alps to Belfast, and who doubt whether God made them whenever they are dyspeptic, to stand up before the public demanding that we shut our eyes and open our mouths, and swallow every preposterous notion they think proper to proclaim as science, to the destruction of our faith in the God who made us, of our respect for our brethren of mankind, and of our hope of heaven. _II. The Illogical Structure of the Theory._ When men come before the world with a dogma freighted with such wide-reaching revolutions, they ought to be prepared to furnish the most irrefragable proofs of its truth, and of its obligation and authority. We should be able to establish it beyond all controversy as based on a series of facts which take their place historically in the line of the inductive sciences; about which all men of science are agreed, as all astronomers, for instance, are agreed about gravitation; and we should be able to show that each of the alleged consequences flows inevitably and logically from these established facts. Ignorance, hypothesis, assumption of facts, sophisms, begging the question, and the like, are wholly impertinent in any such discussion. Were they even tolerable in the field of metaphysical discussion, they must, by the rules of the Positive Philosophy itself, banishing all but ascertained facts from the halls of science, be excluded from this discussion of an alleged general law of nature. But when we enter on the examination of the dogma of evolution, we find its parentage among ignoble superstitions; its fundamental facts still lie in the darkness of ignorance and assumption; and its reasoning is illogical and absurd. The most prominent feature which arrests our notice as we look closely at the theory of evolution, as presented by any of its prominent atheistical advocates is, _its illogical and incoherent structure_. The writer contradicts himself. The various parts of the theory do not hang together. The alleged facts do not sustain the conclusions deduced from them. Mr. Darwin's books especially abound in the most intolerable assumptions of principles and facts, not only without proof, but in the face of unanswered and unanswerable objections. And the theory is useless for the purpose of its proposal. All this is utterly at variance with the method of true science. None but a mind debauched by bigoted attachment to a preconceived theory could overlook these fatal defects in the system. Indeed both Darwin and Huxley admit that acceptance of the evidence must be preceded by belief in the principle of evolution. It is marvelous that any properly educated student of mental science should accept a theory so incoherent, in which the rents are scarcely held together by the patches. We can only exhibit a few specimens of the multitude of these fatal inconsistencies and deficiencies. The theory is useless as an explanation of the arcana of Nature. Mr. Darwin is, by his own acknowledgment, a very ignorant man--ignorant of the very things necessary for him to know before he can construct a method of creation, and unable to explain to us what he sets out to explain. He confesses himself ignorant of the origin and laws of inheritance, by which his whole system hangs together; of the common ancestors from which he alleges all creatures are derived; of the laws of correlation of parts, though these are indispensable to development; of the reasons of the extinction of species, which is the great business, the very trade of his great agent, Natural Selection. He has no knowledge of the duration of past ages, though that duration is an essential element of his calculations. The spontaneous variations of plants and animals are the very mainspring of his machine; but he tells us he knows nothing of the laws governing them; nor has he any information about the creation of the primordial forms, nor about the date of beginning, or rate of progress.[15] All which are necessary to be known in order to the formation of a correct theory. Again and again, when confronted with facts which his theory can not explain, he takes refuge in confessions of ignorance. When he meets facts which flatly contradict his theory of the imperceptible beneficial acquirement of organs, or of properties by inheritance--such as the sterility of hybrids, the instincts of neuter bees, the battery of the electric eel, the human eye, and the eye of the cuttle-fish, he owns that "_it is impossible to conceive_ by what steps these wondrous organs have been produced." When asked for the missing links between existing species, he refers us to the undiscovered fossiliferous strata below the Silurian. So Sir C. Lyell refers us for a view of the apes, which developed the first men, to the unexplored geological regions of Central Africa! And Rev. Baden Powell refers us, for the missing links of the chain of development, to "that enormous period of which we are, from the conditions, _precluded from knowing any thing whatever_." And as to the Origin of Species, the very thing the title of his book proclaims, and how the original germs varied into the four or five primeval forms, and these into the next, he says: "_Our ignorance of the laws of variation is profound!_" And that is science! The Christian acknowledges his ignorance of the method of creation; but he presents a sufficient cause for the existence of the facts. The evolutionist ridicules the Bible account of creation as incomprehensible, and then he gives us an account which he himself owns to be incomprehensible, and which we, besides, perceive to be absurd. He proposes to explain to us the origin of species, and locates it in the geological strata of an unexplored continent, and in those remote ages of which by the conditions _we are precluded from knowing any thing whatever_! Objecting to the idea of the God of the Bible, as a self-existent, infinite, intelligent, omnipotent, good Spirit, because of its unthinkability, Messrs. Spencer, Tyndall, and the rest assure us of the eternal self existence of an intelligent cloud of gas, endowed with all promises and potencies, of life and thought, as a simple and intelligible substitute! Belief in God Almighty is only superstition, but faith in Mr. Tyndall's gas-god is science. Mr. Spencer honestly lands in the unknowable. Well, then, what science have we gained of the mysteries of our origin? Of the self-contradictions of evolutionists, we have an instance in Huxley's treatment of the fundamental fact of his system--protoplasm. The grand question is: How does the protoplasm become alive? In his famous lecture on the subject, Physical Basis of Life, he argues throughout, that life is a property of protoplasm; that protoplasm owes its properties to the nature and arrangement of its molecules; that there is no more need to infer or allege a faculty called vitality, to account for the production of these various properties of the protoplasm from its chemical constituents, than to infer a power called aquosity, to account for the generation of water from oxygen and hydrogen; and that our thoughts are the expression of molecular changes in that matter of life which is the source of our other vital phenomena. Briefly, our minds are manufactured by our bodies. But in his more recent work, the Classification of Animals, 1869, without any retraction of his previous error, or acknowledgment that he has changed his mind, he flatly contradicts his Physical Basis, accepting and indorsing "the well-founded doctrine that life is the cause and not the consequence of organization." A still more ridiculous incoherency of the same sort is displayed in the logical department of Huxley's Physical Basis of Life; where, after trying to persuade us to put our feet on the ladder which leads in the reverse direction from Jacob's, and to descend with him into the slough of materialism, and affirming that "our thoughts are the expression of molecular changes in that matter of life which is the source of our other vital phenomena;" he goes on to say, that he does not believe in materialism. And he tries to vindicate himself by asserting that "we know nothing about the composition of any body whatever as it is." And this after deducing our thoughts from the molecular changes of the protoplasm! A pretty story truly, and an impudent one! Here is a man who will tell you all about how your body made your soul out of protoplasm, and in the next page acknowledges that he knows nothing about the composition of either the body or soul as it is! And yet this man will mock the believers in the Bible as "smothering their minds under a respectable feather bed of tradition," because they hesitate to shut their eyes, and swallow his contradictions. Mr. Wallace gives us a specimen of this logical incoherence affecting if possible still more deeply the foundations of philosophic faith.[16] He heads his paragraph _Matter is Force_, and goes on to argue that matter is essentially force, and nothing but force; that matter, as popularly understood, does not exist. Then in a couple of pages he goes on to argue "that the whole universe is not merely dependent on, but actually _is_, the will of higher intelligences, or of one Supreme Intelligence." But the whole tenor of his book is thus demolished; since evolution, if it means anything, means the interposition of natural law between the will of the one Supreme Intelligence and the universe. And on this theory Mr. Wallace's criticisms on Mr. Darwin and others are impious, being criticisms upon parts of the will of the one Supreme Intelligence. Similar instances of self-contradiction could be given, did space permit, from almost every advocate of evolution. Our space permits the exhibition of but a single instance of the inherent incoherency of the theory. There is nothing in which all the atheistic evolutionists are more emphatic than in the exclusion of design from the universe. All their arguments and sneers are leveled against the idea, that the adaptations of Nature were designed or intended by an intelligent mind; and the theory of evolution is welcomed chiefly because it enables them to give some account of the order of the world, without any acknowledgment of a providence guiding it to some end or purpose. But yet all these same evolutionists proclaim progress as the great law of Nature, and expend themselves with wonderful eloquence in tracing the progress of nebulæ into worlds, and of worms into men. They glory in progress of the past, and prophesy progress in the future, apparently in the most childish unconsciousness, that the very idea of progress involves design, and that the fact of progress asserts providence. Nor is there any escape by alleging necessity of Nature, which is merely endowing the designer of progress with omnipotence as well as omniscience. The illogical character of the theory is still further manifested by the failure of its alleged facts to sustain the consequences deduced from them. Suppose all the facts alleged by the atheistic evolutionists were granted, how would they do away with the evidence of the being and government of God? as they loudly allege they do. Let it be granted that all men grew up from monkeys, and the monkeys from worms, and all worms grew from invisible animalculæ, and that the animalculæ flashed into life by the chemical contact of the materials of the protoplasm, and that the protoplasm was a natural crop of the cooling globe, and that the cooling globe condensed itself out of fire mist or nebulæ or star dust, I demand to know how does all that enable me to get rid of the law of causation? It is a necessary law of my nature to believe that every effect demands an adequate cause. It is equally a law of my nature to believe that every compound, or composite substance, is an effect, that the compound did not compound itself. Here is a great effect--a universe in solution, with all the chemical constituents of our globe and solar system floating in it, and all their laws of chemical affinity and proportion, and all their electrical attractions and repulsions, in full operation (else we would never get a universe to thicken down out of it); and besides, all the potencies of vegetable and animal life, and all the great powers of the human mind, in a rather vaporous condition, it is true, but still all there--Socrates, Seneca and Solomon, Moses, Solon and Blackstone, Homer, Milton and Shakespeare, Demosthenes, Cicero and Daniel Webster, Watt, Stephenson, Fulton and Morse, popes, puritans and evolutionists, universities and newspapers and congresses, the United States and the British Empire, and the rest of mankind--all boiled up into Mr. Tyndall's potencies, but all there in potency, just as truly as they ever were here in fact. Well! here is a great effect just as imperatively demanding a great First Cause as the world afterward formed out of it. These substances did not make themselves then, any more than the resulting persons or paving stones make themselves now, and they did not endow themselves with these potencies, nor calculate and establish these laws of chemical combination in exact proportion, nor determine scientifically the laws of gravitation and electricity and light and heat, before they came into being; which must have all been established before a single particle of the star dust could begin to cool, or to approach another. The very first idea of matter or of force we can form demands law, and law is merely another name for the divine order of Nature. Whatever foundation for Natural Religion, for faith in God as the Creator and Governor of the world, is afforded by the existing order of the world, it is in no degree logically weakened (though it may be practically) by viewing that order as reached by a process of evolution, since that process also must have been designed, planned, adapted to its purpose, and divinely superintended. Accordingly, we find that many philosophers, and some divines, acknowledge a process of the evolution of God's great idea, and adore him for the growth alike of forests and firmaments, regarding evolution, thus conditioned, as profoundly religious. St. Augustine, and St. Thomas Aquinas, of old, and many modern speculators, have assented to the theory of evolution as perfectly consistent with belief in God, as its Author. It is utterly illogical to allege that evolution has banished final causes. Grant it all its facts, and these facts proclaim God. It is evident, however, that evolutionists are not confident of the ability of the facts which they are able to allege to sustain their theory, since they are perpetually postulating assumptions necessary to their argument, but which are utterly unproved, and incapable of proof. Mr. Darwin is the most notorious offender against inductive science in this respect. I have now before me a list of eighty-six assumptions of this sort in the Origin of Species alone. Those in his other works are too numerous to mention. He continually mistakes his own assertions, or even his own mere conjectures, for proof, and refers back to them, and builds further assumptions upon them accordingly; and he assumes facts unproven and incapable of proof; and principles which he must know are denied by his opponents. We can only take a few instances at random. He assumes that all dogs are developed from wolves (Descent of Man, page 48); that the instincts of animals are developed (page 38); that language was developed (page 53); that there is a wider interval between the lamprey and the ape than between the ape and the man, thus begging the question of man's brutality (page 34); that the savage is the original state of man (page 63); that parental instincts are the result of Natural Selection, after owning utter ignorance of their origin (page 77); that the ideas of glory and infamy are the workings of sympathy (page 82); the heredity of moral tastes (page 98); that the standard of morality has been rising since the giving of the ten commandments (page 99); that our ancestors were quadrupeds (page 116); that there have been thousands of generations (page 125); that breeds have the character of species (Origin of Species, page 411); that rudimentary organs are inherited abortions (page 424); that there are four or five original progenitors, and distant evidence of only one (page 425); he assumes descent to prove his geology (page 428); and perpetual progress toward perfection (pages 59, 140, 176, 428), in the face of his own facts of retrogression. Then look at the outrageous character of the assumption that beneficial variations may be added up indefinitely, that is, to infinity. Because a gymnast can leap over two horses, can his son leap over three? and his son over four? and his son over five? and can we in time breed a man who will leap to the moon? And yet the whole theory is based upon forgetfulness of the maxim, that there is a limit to all things, and of the fact, that in creatures of flesh and blood this limit is very soon reached. Look again at the utterly erroneous assumption that the tendency of the struggle for life is to improve the combatants; an assumption contradicted by the whole history of famine, war, pauperism, and disease, among brutes and men. Were the survivors of the Irish famine of 1847, or those of the Persian, or Bengali famines improved by their struggle for life? It is true the fittest survived; but that was all; they were miserably emaciated and demoralized. Were the peasantry of Europe improved by the wars of the French Revolution? On the contrary, though the fittest survived, France was obliged to lower the recruiting standard three inches. In all cases the struggle for life injures all concerned. And yet upon these two fundamental assumptions the theory is built; of which that of the indefinite accumulation of small profitable variations is outrageously impossible and absurd; and the other, of the improvement of breeds by starvation and hardships, is contrary to all observation and experience! Take away these two assumptions, and the whole theory of the gradual improvement of plants and animals by such agency vanishes. There is no such power of indefinite improvement by Natural Selection, as Mr. Darwin asserts. The utmost it can do is to keep breeds up to the natural standard, or near to it, by destroying the weakest; but at the same time it weakens the strongest also. Were there no other objection, this one would be fatal, that Mr. Darwin assigns an elevating power to a depressing agency, and asserts war, famine, hardship, and disease as his holy angels perfecting progress. Mr. Darwin presents the most preposterous assumptions with such coolness and apparent unconsciousness of their utter improbability to his readers, and with such an entire ignoring of the necessity of any further attestation than his own _ipse dixit_, as to warrant serious suspicions of his sanity. Take, for instance, his bear and whale story. Hearne reports having seen in the Arctic regions a bear swimming in the water for hours, with his mouth wide open, catching flies; and Mr. Darwin says if the supply of flies were constant (where the winter lasts eight months of the year 40° below zero) _he can see no difficulty in the production at length of an animal as monstrous as a whale_! M. Comte's disciples never suspected their master's sanity till he invented a religion for them. 2. This theory, it should be remembered, is _merely a theory_, _a mere notion_, _a hypothesis_. It is not even alleged that it is based upon facts actually discovered. The alleged facts of the cooling of the nebulæ, the chemical origin of life upon our globe, and the development of the original Ascidian into the fish, and that into the monkey, and of the monkey into the man, never were witnessed by anybody, nor could they be witnessed. La Place was honest enough to call his part of the theory, The Nebular _Hypothesis_. He had no idea of claiming for it the rank of a fact of science upon which he, or anybody else, might build a system. Nor are the modern assertors of evolution able to establish a single instance of the chemical origin of life at the present day; though thousands of experiments have been made attempting that exploit, by English, French, and German chemists during the last forty years. Nor has a single case of the transmutation of species ever been observed in wild animals or plants; nor has any change of species been produced in tame ones by domestication or culture. No naturalist has seen a community of apes in the process of improvement toward manhood; nor has any philologist described the first attempts of the monkeys toward the articulation of language, or the manufacture of clothing, unless we except Mr. Lemuel Gulliver's interesting account of the Yahoos. It must be acknowledged that the animals described by that accurate observer, and graphic describer, approach more nearly to those required by Mr. Darwin's theory than any ever seen before, or since. Hence it is greatly to be desired that some scientific evolutionists should thoroughly explore those regions, investigate the manners and customs of the Yahoos with the enthusiasm of a true Darwinian, and minutely describe those interesting features which would enable us to decide whether they are monkeys progressing to manhood, or men brutalizing into apehood; but which Mr. Gulliver's lack of scientific enthusiasm for evolution prevented him from closely examining. But until the scientific standing of Mr. Gulliver's Yahoos is determined, the theory of evolution must be assigned to the mountains of speculations, big with expectation, but which yet await the birth of their first fact. Mr. Darwin indeed alleges the results of domestication upon animals and plants, as producing permanent varieties as different in appearance as many which are ranked by naturalists as different species, and he alleges that Natural Selection carries on a similar process of improvement among wild animals and plants. But the facts of domestication are most emphatic in refusing to acknowledge any change of species of the most carefully bred animals. The efforts of breeders have been exerted for thousands of years upon the dog, the ox, the goat, the sheep, and the ass, the horse, and the camel, among animals; and upon the goose, the duck, and the pigeon, and for a shorter time, but still for two thousand years, upon the common barn-door poultry. Farmers in all lands, since the deluge, have used their best exertions to improve the cereals, the fruit trees, the vines, and root crops, and vegetables, and the result has been some valuable modifications of size, shape, flavor, and fertility; but in no case whatever has any change of species been effected. All the efforts of breeders have not succeeded in making the horse specifically different from the noble animal described in the Book of Job four thousand years ago. The sheep has not become a goat, nor the goat a sheep, by all the pains of all the shepherds since the days of Abel. The ass displays not the least tendency to become a horse, nor the goat to become a cow. Mr. Darwin makes great capital out of pigeons, enumerating all the varieties owned by fanciers, and showing how the Indian emperors bred them a thousand years before Christ. But it is strange that he does not see that this makes against his theory; since in all that time this most variable of birds has never been transmuted into any other species. The pigeon has never been changed into a crow, or a magpie, or a woodpecker, or a chicken; has never, in fact, become anything else than a pigeon. Dogs are also somewhat variable in their varieties, and Mr. Darwin relies greatly upon supposed variations from some one assumed ancestral pair of dogs, into the greyhound, mastiff, terrier, and lapdog. But granting all these unproven variations, no instance is alleged of a dog ever becoming a cat or a lion by any care or culture. It will not do to allege, that, for anything we know to the contrary, our present breeds of domestic animals and plants may be so different from those called by the same names in ancient times as to be really different species. We do know many things to the contrary. In the tombs of the Egyptians, and the sculptures of the Assyrians, we have pictures of the various plants, birds, and animals, from three to four thousand years old, as well as of man, the most domestic animal of the whole. These paintings and sculptures assure us that in all those millenniums domestication has not produced the slightest change in the races of animals, plants, or men. The Ethiopian has not changed his skin, nor the leopard his spots. The negro was then the same black-skinned, woolly-headed, flat-nosed, thick-lipped, long-heeled person he is to-day, as pompous, good-humored, and fond of finery. The Assyrian statues are good, recognizable likenesses of eminent living Jewish merchants, in London and New Orleans. The old Pharaohs of the monuments can be matched for face and figure any day in the bazars of Cairo. The greyhound of the tombs is the same variety now used for coursing hares in the desert. The camel, the ass, and the Arab, and Assyrian breeds of horses, have not been at all improved in forty centuries. Even Mr. Darwin's favorite pigeons would seem to have ceased to vary; for the carrier-pigeons let loose by Sesostris, to carry the news of his coronation to all the cities of Egypt, do not differ a feather from the modern Egyptian carrier-pigeons. The various wild animals, and many of the plants, are represented on these monuments in great variety. Among these I have noted the lotus, the papyrus, the leek, the palm, wheat, barley, and millet; the crocodile, the frog, the crane, the flamingo, the ibis, the goose, the owl, the ostrich, the peacock; and of beasts the now famous ancestral ape, Ptolemy's tame lion, the leopard, the gazelle, the hippopotamus, the giraffe, and the wild boar, and many others. But there is not the least perceptible change in the corresponding species now inhabiting Egypt and the desert. We can go further than the mere external appearance; for we can actually dissect specimens of the various animals, and thus satisfy ourselves whether any physiological change, amounting to a transmutation of species, has occurred, or was in progress; and the investigation has been conducted by no less a physiologist and zoologist than Cuvier, whose authority in such matters no naturalist will dispute. And this is what he says: "It might seem as if the ancient Egyptians had been inspired by nature, for the purpose of transmitting to after ages a monument of her natural history. That strange and whimsical people, by embalming with so much care the brutes which were the objects of their stupid adoration, have left us in their sacred grottoes cabinets of zoology almost complete. Climate has conspired with art to preserve the bodies from corruption, and we can now assure ourselves with our own eyes what was the state of a good number of species three thousand years ago. * * * I have endeavored to collect all the ancient documents respecting the forms of animals, and there are none equal to those furnished by the Egyptians, both in regard to their antiquity and abundance. I have examined with the greatest care the engraved figures of quadrupeds and birds upon the obelisks brought from Egypt to ancient Rome; and all these figures, one with another, have a perfect resemblance to their intended objects, such as they still are in our days. My learned friend, Geoffrey St. Hilaire, convinced me of the importance of this research, and carefully collected in the tombs and temples of Upper and Lower Egypt as many mummies of animals as he could procure. He has brought home the mummies of cats, ibises, birds of prey, dogs, crocodiles, and the head of a bull. After the most attentive and detailed examination, not the smallest difference is to be perceived between these animals and those of the same species which we now see, any more than between human mummies and skeletons of men of the present day."[17] There is then not the first fact, or appearance of a fact, to be adduced in proof of the change of species either by domestication, or Natural Selection, or any other process known to man. That any such evolution of any animal, or plant, into one of another species ever occurred, is a mere empty notion, in support of which no facts can be adduced. All the animals and plants of which we know anything have remained unchanged since the beginning of man's observation of them. The theory endeavors to account for a change which never happened. It is a mere empty dream, unworthy of a serious consideration by any mind imbued with the first principle of inductive science--namely, that all science is the orderly knowledge of facts; and whose first rule is, _first ascertain your facts_. But it is urged, that though such a change has not occurred during the brief period of human history, it may have been practicable in the lengthened periods revealed by geology, and while the forces of nature were more vigorous during the youth of our planet. This, in fact, is the grand resource of the modern evolutionists--the almost infinite periods and possibilities of geology. We refuse, however, to follow Mr. Powell into those unexplored realms of the infinite past and discuss the possibilities of ages, of which "by the conditions we can not know anything whatever." We will go as far as the geological strata furnish us with any facts, any evidences of life, any traces of plants or animals of which corresponding species still exist, and will unhesitatingly affirm, on the authority of the most eminent geologists, that such geological representatives of existing species furnish no evidence whatever of evolution into higher forms. On the contrary, we shall show that many species have existed without the slightest change for many thousands, aye, and millions of years, sufficiently long to establish the fact of the permanence of species during the geologic ages known to man. Geologists are generally agreed that the first Florida Coral Reef is at least 30,000 years old; but Agassiz asserts, uncontradicted, that the insect which built it has not altered in the least in that period, and he says regarding it: "These facts furnish evidence, as direct as we can obtain in any branch of physical inquiry, that some at least of the species of animals now existing have been in existence 30,000 years, and have not undergone the slightest change in that period." But we can go still further back, and demonstrate the permanence of vegetable structure. Hugh Miller says: "The oak, the birch, the hazel, the Scotch fir, all lived, I repeat, in what is now Britain, ere the last great depression of the land. The gigantic northern elephant and rhinoceros, extinct for untold ages, forced their way through the tangled branches; and the British tiger and hyena harbored in their thickets. Cuvier framed an argument for the fixity of species on the fact that the birds and beasts of the catacombs were identical in every respect with the animals of the same kind that live now. But what, it has been asked, is a brief period of 3,000 years, when compared with the geologic ages? Or how could any such argument be founded on a basis so little extended? It is, however, to no such narrow basis that we can refer in the case of these woods. All human history is comprised in the nearer corner of the immense period they measure out; and yet from their first appearance in creation till now, they have not altered a single fiber. And such on this point is the invariable testimony of Paleontologic science, testimony so invariable that no great Paleontologist was ever yet an asserter of the Development Hypothesis."[18] To the same purpose let us hear Huxley's testimony, since no one will suspect him of undue respect for Moses: "Obviously if the earliest fossiliferous rocks now known are coeval with the commencement of life, and if their contents give us any just conception of the earliest fauna and flora, the insignificant amount of modification which can be demonstrated to have taken place in any one group of animals and plants, is quite incompatible with the hypothesis that all living forms are the results of a process of necessary progressive development entirely comprised within the time represented by the fossiliferous rocks."[19] We are fully warranted, then, in alleging, that no such transmutation of species is known to science, as an existing fact, or as having ever occurred. As to the supposition on which the evolutionists fall back, that such a miracle might have happened thousands of millions of years before the formation of the lowest rocks known to us, we might well decline the discussion of may-be's as facts of science. But there is a positive denial of unimaginable periods of time for Mr. Darwin's evolution to try its blundering experiments. We are empowered to say positively, No! There is no such length of time for you, Mr. Darwin, on this little globe at least. This rotating world had a beginning; so had our moon; and our sun, too, began to burn one day. And there are data of the revolution of these bodies, and of the secular cooling of the earth, and of the gradual combustion of the sun, and of the retardation of the earth's motions, from which Sir Wm. Thompson (in his Treatise on Geological Time) calculates, that our earth has not been in a fit state for plants and animals for more than a hundred millions of years; and he demonstrates the absurdity of the demand for unlimited time, as contradictory to the facts of physical astronomy. Hence we deny the possibility of evolution in the infinite ages of the past. There never were any such ages on this world of ours. 4. Failing to find facts, evolutionists fall back upon analogies, and support their hypothesis by the supposed analogy of the _growth of the embryos of all plants and animals from germs alleged to be originally perfectly similar_--simple protoplasm cells, which by subsequent evolution, differentiate themselves as widely as the moss from the man. The subject is too obscure for popular discussion. I can only announce the results of the latest and most authoritative researches.[20] 1. Analogy is a very unsafe guide here, because the differences between the limited life of the individual, and the alleged unlimited life of the race, are precisely those of which we have no analogy. 2. It is not true that "the original substratum or material is in every instance alike," nor that the "primordial cell is in every instance the same," whether of the "lichen or the man;"[21] nor as others allege, "that chemical reagents detect no differences between them." Chemical reagents are very clumsy instruments for the analysis of living beings, and their properties and powers; which are the antagonists of chemical reactions. Nevertheless, heat is a well-known chemical agent, and the application of heat to a fertilized, and to an unfertilized, germ develops a whole world of difference between them. The one becomes a chicken, the other an addled egg. Moreover, the application of different degrees of heat to different germs produces the most various reactions. The germs of trout are speedily killed by the moderate temperature of 65° Fahrenheit, while the germs of most animalculæ and plants develop rapidly at that temperature. Such instances might be multiplied, but these are sufficient to contradict the rash assertion of sameness, because a hasty observer did not take pains to discover differences. 3. There are four distinct plans of structure in the animal kingdom, and at least three, perhaps more, in the vegetable kingdom; and every germ, from the first instant when its evolution can be seen at all, is seen to develop only according to its own proper method. There is no more confusion of germs, or embryos, than of plants or animals. 4. No instance has ever been known of a germ producing an animal, or plant, of another species, by any process of stopping short of ripening, or undue prolongation of it. Every seed breeds true to its kind, or not at all, or produces a deformity. Embryology utterly refuses the notion of the transmutation of species. Mr. Darwin's various references to rudimentary organs, like the bones of a hand in the flipper of the whale, or the teats of male animals, and the like, can hardly be called arguments. He tries to account for them and fails; acknowledging ignorance of the laws of heredity. Some of them he will have to be young organs in process of evolution, others organs aborted for want of exercise. In this category he ought to place the tail which he ought to have inherited from his ancestors, as he is greatly exercised to know what became of it. But it is evident that his attempts to build arguments on such things, and to account for occasional variations by atarism, are in contradiction to his principles. Most of the known instances of the origination of permanent varieties were not the result of infinitesimal improvements, but were sudden and complete at once. The Japan peacocks, the short-legged sheep, the porcupine man and his family, and the six-fingered men, were not at all the results of a slow process of evolution; on the contrary, they were born so, complete at once, in utter contradiction of the theory. 5. The only other line of argument, which has any show of probability, is that based upon _the gradations of the various orders of plants and animals_. Not but that there are many other arguments adduced, but they are of too technical a character to be intelligible to any but zoologists, and of too little weight to demand consideration after the leading arguments are overturned. But this argument from gradation, though logically unsound, is plausibly specious, and therefore demands notice. By far the ablest exhibition of this argument is that made by Lamarck, and we give it as he presents it: "The greater the abundance of natural objects assembled together, the more do we discover proofs that everything passes by insensible shades into something else; that even the more remarkable differences are evanescent, and that nature has for the most part left us nothing at our disposal for establishing distinctions, save trifling, and in some respects puerile particularities. We find that many genera among plants and animals are of such an extent, in consequence of the number of species referred to them, that the study and determination of these last have become almost impracticable. When the species are arranged in a series, and placed near to each other, with a due regard to their natural affinities, they each differ in so minute a degree from those next adjoining, that they almost melt into each other, and are in a manner confounded together. If we see isolated species, we may presume the absence of some more closely connected, and which have not yet been discovered. Already there are genera, and even entire orders, nay, whole classes which present this state of things." He then goes on to present, "as a guide to conjecture," what his successors now assert as a fact: "In the first place, if we examine the whole series of known animals, from one extremity to the other, when they are arranged in the order of their natural relations, we find that we may pass progressively, or at least with very few interruptions, from beings of more simple to those of more compound structure; and in proportion as the complexity of their organization increases, the number and dignity of their faculties increase also. Among plants a similar approximation to a graduated scale of being is apparent. Secondly, it appears, from geological observations, that plants and animals of more simple organization existed on the globe before the appearance of those of more compound structure, and the latter were successively formed at more modern periods, each new race being more fully developed than the most perfect of the preceding one."[22] From this gradation of nature, thus stated, the evolutionists go on to infer genealogy, the birth descent of the larger from the smaller, and of the more complex from the simpler forms, as the only scientific explanation. But it is by no means the only scientific explanation of the order of nature. The best naturalists, from Moses to Agassiz, have regarded the order of nature as the development of the divine idea, have prosecuted their researches on that view, and have regarded that as a sufficient and scientific explanation of the gradation of plants and animals, as they actually exist. The idea of birth descent can not be logically connected with that of gradation; especially with a gradation upward. Were the order of nature such as Lamarck describes, how could any man logically infer the birth descent of each of its classes from the next below? Here is an ironmonger's sample card of wood screws, beginning with those one-quarter of an inch long, and proceeding by gradations of one-sixteenth of an inch to those of four inches. Does the gradation show that the little ones begot the big ones? It may be said the wood screws do not beget progeny. Well, here is a hill containing twenty-three potatoes, weighing from half an ounce to half a pound, and quite regularly graded. Did the small potatoes beget the big ones? The inference of birth descent from gradation is utterly illogical, and of a piece with the incoherency which we have seen in the other parts of the theory. It never could be inferred from the facts stated, even did nature correspond to Lamarck's description. But nature does not correspond to Lamarck's description. That description corresponded moderately, perhaps, to the science of his day, which was based chiefly upon external resemblances; but no scientific naturalist of the present day would accept it as a correct statement of the facts revealed by modern science. In the first place there is no such imperceptible blending and shading off of species as the description would imply, obliterating all distinctions of species, and rendering it impossible even for a naturalist to distinguish one species from another. Since the time of Lamarck, structure and physiology have been more studied than mere external appearances; so that from a tooth or bone Cuvier or Agassiz could reconstruct an animal, and indicate its internal organization, as well as its form and habits. But even in Lamarck's days, and even to the most uneducated, there was no such imperceptible shading and blending as the theory requires. It is well to look here at its requirements, for they are not fully presented by its friends. Mr. Darwin gives us a diagram exhibiting the variation of an original species into a score or so of varieties, ending in distinct species. But this is very far, indeed, below the necessities of the case. The horse hair worm lays 8,000,000 of eggs; and the primeval germ, whatever it was, could hardly be less fertile, since fertility increases with simplicity of structure. But, taking 8,000,000 to begin with, here were as many varieties; since no two of them, or of any creature, could be exactly alike. The next generation would give 8,000,000 times as many varieties, and so on till Natural Selection began to thin off the feeble. But here we have, instead of a few well-marked varieties, an infinite multitude of imperceptible variations, rendering classification impossible. And as all these were only varieties of the same breed, they would breed together, and thus still more confuse the complexity, and render distinction of species impossible. For, in spite of all Mr. Darwin has to say about the extinction of the weaker varieties, the fact is, they are not at all extinguished, but keep their ground as well as the higher classes, or perhaps better. And if a snail, or a worm, can contrive to live now in an unimproved condition, why should its improving cousin die off? Did its improvement kill it? And so of improving mollusks, and well-doing radiates, and aspiring rabbits, and all the rest. The world ought to be so full of them that no man could sort them off into species, or tell which was fish, which was flesh, and which red herring; and no pork packer could distinguish hog from dog. But instead of any such horrible confusion of a world full of mongrels, we discover a clear and well defined distinction of species, known even to the poor animals themselves, and by their instincts made known to all mankind. The Creator, who created all creatures after their kind, implanted in them an instinct of breeding only with their own species; and placed a bar in the way of man's vain attempts to work confusion of species, by rendering the hybrid offspring of different species sterile, or only capable of breeding back to the pure blood. Innumerable attempts have been made by fraud and force to procure cross breeds of different species of plants and animals, but always with the same result--the extinction of the progeny of the hybrid, unless bred back to nature. While a mingling of various breeds of the same species--horses, sheep, or cattle--generally increases fertility, the attempt to mingle different species, as the horse and the ass, though so similar, always produces sterile offspring. It is impossible to conceive any form in which the Creator could more emphatically protest against the attempt to confuse the distinctions of species He established. God has fixed a barrier against the mixture or confusion of species by cross breeding, by ordaining the sterility of hybrids. Mr. Darwin labors in vain to explain away this great fact. It can not be explained into conformity with the evolution theory; for in that theory all species are only breeds or varieties of one species, and ought to increase their fertility by cross breeding. With all scientific naturalists, as with all people of common sense, this proves that species have a distinct existence in nature, and that the Creator has ordained the continuance of their distinct existence; which is the denial of evolution. When Mr. Darwin retreats into the geologic ages, and confessing that his principle has ceased to be operative now in our world, and refers us to them for such evolution of one species from another, he abandons the fundamental principle of his school--the uniformity of nature--and falls back on Christian ground the necessity for supernatural origins. He virtually admits the death or superannuation of Natural Selection, since it has retired from the business of species-making. But when we go back to those old geologic ages, we find that species were then not only as distinct as now, but that the distinctions were even bolder and more visible. Many of them have ceased to exist, but they have left their shells, their petrified casts, and their bones, by which we can see that they stood apart in well-defined groups, without any such blending and confusion as the evolution theory asserts. Over three thousand species are already classified. Between every two of them there ought to be, on Mr. Darwin's showing, a hundred intermediate variations at the least; and between some of the more widely separated forms there ought to be thousands of intermediate varieties; as for instance between the bear and the whale; and a still greater number between the mollusk with its external shell, and the vertebrate with its internal skeleton. And we ought to find these intermediate forms closely connected with their parents and their children. For intermediate forms in another continent could not be the connecting links between the mollusks and vertebrates of a distant country, say of England. In the same strata in which we find the two ends of the chain, and lying between the two ends of the chain, we ought to find the connecting links. And we ought to find a hundred connecting links for every specimen of distinct species, since Mr. Darwin alleges that they must have lived and died somewhere; and we have seen they must have lived and died right there where they were born, and where they begot their progeny. The geological strata ought to be full of connecting links. But when we come to look for them they are not there. Geology knows nothing about them. It has plenty of distinct, well-defined species--trilobites, and ammonites, and echinoderms, palms, ferns, firs, and mosses, all sorts of quadrupeds from a mouse to a mastodon, and all just as clean-cut and well-defined as the species of existing animals. Mr. Darwin can not find his connecting links between the species, which ought to have been a hundred times more plentiful than the species they connected. These connecting links are missing links. He ought to be able to overwhelm his opponents, and bury them under mountains of the bones of intermediate species. But all his friends can do is to suggest about half a dozen, while he needs three hundred thousand. He can not pay half a cent on the dollar. In his grief he turns round and abuses the defectiveness of the geological record, which he says he could never have suspected of being so defective but for this failure to meet his drafts. But he need not blame the geological record for not preserving bones of animals which never lived. Geology says there never was any such confusion of species as evolution asserts. But not only does the general structure of the web of nature present a clearly striped pattern, instead of the mottled gray of the theory--neither the beginning, nor the middle, nor the end is like what the evolution theory would produce. The gradation does not begin, as the theory asserts and demands, with the monads. On the contrary, we find that there are four kingdoms of animal life--in an ascending scale--the radiate, or starfish; the mollusk or oyster; the articulate, or insect; and the vertebrate, or animals with backbones. Now the evolution ought to have begun at the bottom, with the radiate, the coral, and the starfish; it should have gone upward, the coral developing into the oyster, and the oyster into the lobster, and the lobster into the salmon, and so on. But instead of that we discover, away down in the Silurian strata, at the very beginning of life, _all the four kingdoms_--the radiates, the mollusks, the articulates, and the fish! Evidently, then, there was no such beginning of the world as evolutionists suppose. Then as we work upward along the line of march, and of the development of the divine idea, we observe that when new species were introduced, they did not work up slowly from small and weak beginnings; beginning with dwarfs and growing up to giants; but, on the contrary, the giants head the column. The geological books are full of them--sharks forty feet long, frogs as big as oxen, ichthyosaurus and plesiosaurus of fabulous proportions--were not their skeletons preserved--pterodactyles, or bats, as big as a dog, the mastodon giganteus, beside which an ordinary modern elephant is like a Shetland pony beside a dray horse, ferns as big as oak trees, and mosses eighteen inches in diameter, shell fish of the nautilus order the size of dinner plates, and crustaceans, cousins to the lobster, three feet long. And all this at the very first start in life of these respective families, and in overwhelming multitudes. That was no age of small beginnings, and small progressive improvements. On the contrary, these old families, like some other old families, seem to have rather lost rank, and bulk, and influence; at least their modern representatives cut no such figure in the world as their predecessors. As we proceed along the line we meet gaps which slay the theory of genealogical descent altogether. A gap is fatal to it. If a family dies out, that is the end of it. You can not resuscitate it after a few centuries, and go on with that breed; much less can you pick up a breed quite different, and attach it to your old genealogy. But in the line of evolution we meet these fatal gaps; and no evolutionist has bridged them, because they can not possibly be bridged. The first great gap is the abyss between death and life. No human power can cross it. How could the chemical actions of dead matter infuse vitality into the first germ, or bud of a plant? For chemical actions are the antagonists of life, and constantly laboring to destroy the living organism, and finally they succeed. There is no process of evolution known to man which can carry evolution across this abyss. But till evolution crosses this gulf it can not even begin to operate. This first abyss is its grave. But, supposing life begun in the plant first, as the theory requires, there is another gap between the life of the plant and that of the animal; for all animal life is sustained by another sort of food than that which feeds the vegetable. The vegetable feeds solely on chemical, unorganized matters; the animal solely on matter organized, on some plant, or on some other animal which feeds on plants. No animal can live on the food of plants. Here then is another gap which can not be bridged over, nor crossed; for the plant in process of conversion into an animal is in process of starvation, and when the process is about to be completed, it will end like the miser's horse, whose master diminished his oats Darwinianly, a single grain a day, until he had brought him to live on just one grain per day, when, alas! the victim of the experiment died. And so ends evolution experiment No. 2. Then we come on a multitude of gaps, breaks in the uniformity of nature, called for by the evolutionists, between the species which will not breed together. There ought to be no such species on the theory; or, if there are, there ought to be a multitude of intervening varieties toning down the interval; for instance, between the horse and the cow, and between the sheep and the hog. All the ingenuity of all the evolutionists has been tasked in vain to produce any instance of the confusion of two such species, or of the production of a new true species by the intermixture of blood. But they might just as well try to convert iron into gold, or sulphur into carbon. In fact, evolution is the modern physiological form of the old chemical superstition, alchemy, substituting for the transmutation of metals the problem of the transmutation of animals. It were endless to attempt to exhibit the impossibilities of crossing the gaps between the water-breathing fish and the air-breathing animal; between the flying-bird and the quadruped; between instinct and education; between brute selfishness and maternal affection; between the habits of the solitary and those of the gregarious, and those of the colonial insects and animals. No one of these is accounted for satisfactorily by the theory of evolution. But space forbids the attempt. We only cite one other gulf which the theory can not cross: the gulf between the brute and the man. We should rather say the three gulfs; for between man's body and that of the brute there is a gap which Natural Selection can not cross; another between man's intellectual powers and those of brutes; and the third, and widest of all, between his conscience and their brutal appetites. The gulf between man's body and that of any brute is marked along the whole line, from the solid basis of the feet, enabling him to stand erect, look upward and behold the stars; along the line of the stiff backbone, maintaining the dignified posture; to the hands, on which treatises have been written, displaying their wonderful superiority over those of all other creatures, and enabling man to do what no other animal has done, to fill the world with his handiworks, and alter the very face of nature with his ax, and spade, and steam engine. His tongue and organs of articulate speech alone, were there no other characteristic, proclaim him different from all other animals; none of those resembling him in outward form making the slightest attempts toward articulate language or being able to do so. Man alone, of all the animals, possesses no natural covering, but is exposed naked to the inclemency of the elements. What little hair he possesses is chiefly on the breast, where it is of little use as a covering, and on the head, which in other animals is never better protected than the body. Mr. Darwin alleges that the first men were hairy, like apes. Well, how did they lose their hair? Not by Natural Selection, which only perpetuates _profitable_ variations; but the loss of hair to an ape would be as unprofitable as the loss of your clothes to you. Not by Sexual Selection, for there is not the slightest evidence that nudity was ever popular in apedom. We have undoubted evidence, in the two bone needles found with the bones of the man of Mentone, that the primeval men were naked, and complete proof that Natural Selection could not effect such a disadvantageous change had they been hairy. Here, then, we have an _inferiority_ to other animals in the animal structure, strangely at variance with the general superiority, and only to be accounted for as an educational provision. But chiefly in the human head does the great outward distinction appear. The brain is the great instrument with which the mind works. You can gauge the strength of Ulysses by his bow, and the bulk of the giant by the staff of his spear, which was like a weaver's beam. The brain of the largest ape is about thirty two cubic inches. The brains of the wildest Australians are more than double that capacity. They measure from seventy-five inches to ninety. Europeans' brains measure from ninety to one hundred inches. There are instances of Esquimaux measuring over ninety. Even the brain of an idiot is double the size of that of the orang-otang. But how did man get this extraordinary development of brain, far beyond his necessities? For the cave man of Mentone, who hunted the bison, had as good a head as Bismarck. Natural Selection could not develop an ape's brain in advance of his necessities. But here we have a prophetic structure; man's head developed far in advance of his necessities. Here is a power at work superior to Natural Selection. With such an instrument man has gone to work and supplied his deficiencies. Inferior to many animals in strength and speed, he has manufactured weapons, and subdued them all, asserting himself as the lord of creation, conquering even the mighty mastodon, and piercing the huge Caledonian whale with his reindeer harpoon. He has remedied his want of hair by the manufacture of clothing from the spoils of his victims. He has rendered himself independent of the weather by the shelter of his house. He has ceased to be dependent on the spontaneous fruits of the forest by the cultivation of the soil, and so has become a cosmopolite, confined to no province of creation. He has constructed ships, and provisioned them for long voyages, and visited, and colonized every coast of Europe, Asia, Africa, America, and Australia. He has formed civilized societies with laws, government, and religion. He has leveled roads, navigated rivers, tunneled mountains, dug navigable canals, constructed steamboats, built railroads, invented electric telegraphs, and steam printing presses; and generally he has developed ideas of society, nationality, and of the universal brotherhood of man, not only not possible under the laws of Natural Selection, but in the most direct contrariety to those laws, which work only for the benefit of the individual. Never under those laws could any great community of animals be formed, never could they obtain the notion of representative government, never combine their powers for any national enterprise, nor could the most hairy and muscular-tailed of Mr. Darwin's ancestors secure subscribers sufficient to warrant him in starting even a county newspaper. But it is in the moral sense which enables man to distinguish right from wrong, the conscience, which forbids and reproves the unbridled indulgence of the animal appetites, that we observe the grand distinction between man and the brute. There is nothing in the writings of evolutionists more pitiable than their attempts to degrade conscience into a mere gregarious instinct, an outcome of utility to the tribe, and to pleasurable sensations, resulting from the exercise of the social instincts. It would appear that these writers had so sophisticated their own minds that they have ceased to understand the fundamental, world-wide difference between right and gain, between duty and pleasure. "Do justice, though the heavens fall," could never be evolved by Natural Selection. That is the law of the sharpest tooth, and the longest claws, and the biggest bull; the Napoleonic theology, whose god is always on the side of the strongest battalions; the law of the perdition of the weak, and the survival of the strongest. In obedience to its laws the birds forsake their parents as soon as they can shift for themselves; the herd tramples down the wounded deer; the wolves devour their wounded brothers; the queen bee puts her sisters to death, and the neuters sacrifice all the males of the hive. In obedience to the laws of Natural Selection, the males fight for the most attractive females, and keep as many as they can, and form societies on that basis. But man has a sense of justice, and mercy, and gratitude, and love. Here is an animal who knows he ought to tell truth, and do right, and honor his parents, and respect and love his brethren. Whether he always does his duty or not, he feels and owns he ought to do it. Justice, and mercy, and the fear of God, are not at all the attributes of brutes, and never could have been produced by the evolution of their instincts. No animal possesses any knowledge of God, nor practices any form of religious worship. Religion, then, could not be the evolution of what has no existence. We have now considered the theory of the atheistical evolution of man, and of all plants and animals from one primeval germ, by the unintelligent operation of the powers of nature. We have seen that there are as many contradictory applications of the theory as there are advocates of it; that in any shape it is incoherent, illogical, and absurd; that it is destitute of any support from facts; that the alleged analogy of embryology fails to give it countenance; that the order of nature in its gradations is contradictory of the theory; that it utterly fails to account for the origin of life, for the distinctness of the four classes of the animal kingdom, for the distinctness of species which refuse to breed together, for the absence of the intermediate forms necessary to the theory; and, above all, that it can give no satisfactory account of man's bodily, mental, and moral superiority to all other animals, nor for his possession of a knowledge of God. Its tendency, moreover, is inevitably to degrade man, to destroy that sense of his dignity which is the principal security of human life, to obliterate a belief in the divine origin and sanction of morality, and in the existence of a future life of rewards and punishments, and so to promote the disorganization of society, and the degradation of men to the level of brutes, living only under the laws of their brutal instincts. For all these reasons we reject the theory as unscientific, absurd, degrading to man, and offensive to the God who made him. FOOTNOTES: [5] The Descent of Man, p. 198, American Edition. [6] The Descent of Man, p. 191, Am. Ed. [7] Descent of Man, p. 199, Am. Ed. [8] Descent of Man, 197, Am. Ed. [9] The Variations of Animals, etc., Vol. II. page 515. [10] Lay Sermons, p. 30. [11] Lay Sermons, 303. [12] Cited by Hodge in "What is Darwinism?" Page 73, etc. [13] Natural Selection, 372 A., Am. Ed. [14] From the _Presbyterian_, December 7, 1872. [15] Origin of Species, 4, 10, 127, 9, 97, 100, 409, 410, 415, 423. Descent of Man, 192, 204, and II.--15, 257. [16] Natural Selection, p. 365. Am. Ed. [17] Theory of the Earth, 123. [18] Testimony of the Rocks, 77. [19] Address at Annual Meeting of the Geological Society, 1862. [20] Agassiz's Methods of Study. [21] Draper's Human Physiology, 506. [22] Lyell's Principles of Geology, Book III., Chapter 33. CHAPTER III. IS GOD EVERYBODY, AND EVERYBODY GOD? Pantheism is that perversion of reason and language which denies God's personality, and calls some imaginary soul of the world, or the world itself, by his name. While Pantheists are fully agreed upon the propriety of getting rid of a God who could note their conduct, and call them to account for it hereafter, and who would claim to exercise any authority over them here, they are by no means agreed, either in India, Germany, or America, as to what they shall call by his name. Public opinion necessitates them to say they believe in a God, but almost every one has his own private opinion as to what it is. We shall speak of it as we hear it pronounced from the lips of its prophets, here, as well as in the writings of its expounders, in Europe, and Asia. Some of them declare, that it is some absolutely unknown cause of all the phenomena of the universe, and others, that it is the universe itself. A large class speak of it as the great soul of the world, while the more materialistic regard it as the world itself, body and soul; the soul being the sum of all the imponderable forces, such as gravitation, heat, light, electricity, magnetism, galvanism, vegetable and animal life, and especially the mesmeric influence, of which many of them regard intellect as a modification; and the body being the sum of all the ponderable substances, such as air, water, earth, minerals, vegetables, and bodies of animals and men. This creed is popularly expressed in the sentence so often heard, "God is everything, and everything is God." But this vast generalization of all things into the higher unity--this exalting of monkeys, men, snails, and paving stones to the same level of divinity--by no means meets the views of the more unphilosophical and aspiring gods and goddesses, for the very reason that it is so impartial. To deify a man and his cat by the same process is not much of a distinction to the former; and of what advantage is it to be made a god, if he does not thereby obtain some distinction? This leveling apotheosis is generally confined to the German Pantheists; their more ambitious American brethren ascribe the contented humility which accepts it to the continual influence of the fumes of tobacco and lager beer. Man is the great deity of the other class. Renan boldly says: "For myself, I believe there is not in the universe an intelligence superior to that of man; the absolute of justice and reason manifests itself only in humanity; regarded apart from humanity that absolute exists only as an abstraction. The infinite exists only when it clothes itself in form."[23] And as the soul of man is, rather inconsistently for people who believe everything God, supposed to be superior to the rest of him, they go off into great rhapsodies of adoration of their own souls. "The doctrine of the soul--first _soul_, and second _soul_, and evermore _soul_"[24]--is the doctrine which is to regenerate the world. God, in their view, is nothing till he attains self-consciousness in man. "The universal does not attract us till housed in the individual. Who heeds the waste abyss of possibility? Standing on the bare ground, my head bathed by the blithe air, and uplifted into infinite space, all mere egotism vanishes. The currents of the universal being circulate through me. I am part or particle of God." "I stand here to say, 'Let us worship the mighty and transcendent soul.'" "God attains to self-consciousness only in the human soul." "Honor yourself." "Reverence your own individuality." "The soul of man is the highest intelligence in the universe." Such are the dogmas which, under the name of Philosophy, are poured forth oracularly, unsupported by reason or argument, by the prophets of the new dispensation--the last and highest achievement of the human intellect. It is very unfortunate, however, for the honor of the prophets of the nineteenth century, that this profound discovery was invented, and illustrated, patented, and peddled, by the Hindoos, among the people of India, two thousand years before the divinity had struggled into self consciousness in the mighty and transcendent souls of Schelling, Hegel, and Strauss, of Atkinson, Parker, or Emerson. We mean to show in this lecture, that it is an _Antiquated, Hypocritical, Demoralizing Atheism_. 1. _Pantheism is an Antiquated Heresy._--It has rotted and putrefied among the worshipers of cats, and monkeys, and holy bulls, and bits of sticks and stones, on the banks of the Ganges, for more than two thousand years; yet it is now hooked up out of its dunghill, and hawked about among Christian people, as a prime new discovery of modern philosophy for getting rid of Almighty God. As the Hindoo Shasters are undoubtedly the sources from which French, German, and American philosophers have borrowed their dogmas, and as they have not had time to take the whole system, we shall edify the public by a view of this sublime theology as exhibited in the writings of the Pantheistic philosophers of India, as follows: "When existing in the temporary imperfect state of _Sagun_, Brahm (the Pantheist deity) wills to manifest the universe. For this purpose he puts forth his omnipotent energy, which is variously styled in the different systems now under review. He puts forth his energy for what? For the effecting of a creation out of nothing? 'No,' says one of the Shasters, but to '_produce from his own divine substance a multiform universe_.' By the spontaneous exertion of this energy he sends forth, from his own divine substance, a countless host of essences, like innumerable sparks issuing from the blazing fire, or myriads of rays from the resplendent sun. These detached portions of Brahm--these separated divine essences--soon become individuated systems, destined, in time, to occupy different forms prepared for their reception; whether these be fixed or movable, animate or inanimate, forms of gods or men, forms of animal, vegetable, or mineral existences. "Having been separated from Brahm in his imperfect state of _Sagun_, they carry along with them a share of those principles, qualities, and attributes that characterize that state, though predominating in very different degrees and proportions; either according to their respective capacities, or the retributive awards of an eternal ordination. Among others it is specially noted, that as Brahm at that time had awakened into a consciousness of his own existence, there does inhere in each separated soul a notion, or a conviction, of its own _distinct_, independent, individual existence. Laboring under this delusive notion, or conviction, the soul has lost the knowledge of its own proper nature--its divine origin, and ultimate destiny. It ignorantly regards itself as an inferior entity, instead of knowing itself to be what it truly is, a consubstantial, though it may be an infinitesimally minute portion of the great whole, a universal spirit. "Each individual soul being thus a portion of Brahm, even as a spark is of fire, it is again and again declared that the relation between them is not that of master and servant, ruler and ruled, but that of whole and part! The soul is pronounced to be eternal _a parte ante_; in itself it has had no beginning or birth, though its separate individuality originated in time. It is eternal _a parte post_; it will have no end--no death; though its separate individuality will terminate in time. Its manifestation in time is not a creation; it is an effluence from the eternal fount of spirit. Its disappearance from the stage of time is not an extinction of essence--a reduction to nonentity; it is only a refluence into its original source. As an emanation from the supreme, eternal spirit, it is from everlasting to everlasting. Neither can it be said to be of finite dimensions; on the contrary, says the sacred oracle, 'being identified with the Supreme Brahm, it participates in his infinity.' "After having enumerated all the elementary principles, atoms, and qualities successively evolved from Brahm, one of the sacred writings states, that though each of these had distinct powers, yet they existed separate and disunited, without order or harmonious adaptation of parts; that until they were duly combined together, it was impossible to produce this universe, or animated beings; and that therefore it was requisite to adopt other means than fortuitous chance for giving them an appropriate combination, and symmetrical arrangement. The Supreme, accordingly, produced an egg, in which the elementary principles might be deposited, and nurtured into maturity." "All the primary atoms, qualities, and principles--the seeds of future worlds--that had been evolved from the substance of Brahm, were now collected together, and deposited in the newly produced egg. And into it, along with them, entered the self-existent himself, under the assumed form of Brahm; and then he sat vivifying, expanding, and combining the elements, a whole year of the creation, or four thousand three hundred millions of solar years! During this amazing period, the wondrous egg floated like a bubble on the abyss of primeval waters, increasing in size, and blazing refulgent as a thousand suns. At length the Supreme, who dwelt therein, burst the shell of the stupendous egg, and issued forth under a new form, with a thousand heads, a thousand eyes, and a thousand arms. Along with him there issued forth another form, huge and measureless. What could that be? All the elementary principles having now been matured, and disposed into an endless variety of orderly collocations, and combined into one harmonious whole, they darted into visible manifestation under the form of the present glorious universe! A universe now finished, and ready made, with its entire apparatus, of earth, sun, moon, and stars. What, then, is this multiform universe? It is but a harmoniously arranged expansion of primordial principles and qualities. And whence are these? Educed or evolved from the divine substance of Brahm. Hence it is that the universe is so constantly spoken of, even by mythologists, as a manifested form of Brahm himself, the supreme, invisible spirit. Hence, too, under the notion that it is the manifestation of a being who may assume every variety of corporeal form, is the universe often personified, or described as if its different parts were only the different members of a person, of prodigious magnitude, in human form. It is declared that the hairs of his body are the trees of the forest; of his head, the clouds; of his beard, the lightning. His breath is the circling atmosphere; his voice, the thunder; his eyes, the sun and moon; his veins, the rivers; his nails, the rocks; his bones, the lofty mountains![25] "The substantial fabrics of all worlds having now been framed and fitted up as the destined abodes of different orders of being, celestial, terrestrial, and infernal, the question next arises, How or by whom were produced the various organized forms which these orders of being were designed to animate? Though hosts of subtle essences or souls flowed forth from Brahm, all of these remain inactive till united to some form of materialism. From this necessity the gods themselves are not exempted. While the souls of men, and other inferior spirits, must be encased in tabernacles fashioned out of the grosser elements, the souls of the gods, and all other superior spirits, must be made to inhabit material forms, composed of one or other of the infinitely attenuated and invisible rudimental atoms that spring direct from the principle of consciousness. "Interminable as are the incoherencies, inconsistencies, and extravagancies of the Hindoo sacred writings, on no subject, perhaps, is the multiplicity of varying accounts and discrepancies more astonishing than on the present. Volumes could not suffice to retail them all. Brahma's first attempts at the production of the forms of animated beings were as eminently unsuccessful as they were various. At one time he is said to have performed a long and severe course of ascetic devotions, to enable him to accomplish his wish; but in vain; at another, inflamed by anger and passion at his repeated failures, he sat down and wept; and from the streaming tear drops sprang into being, as his first boon, a progeny of ghosts and goblins, of an aspect so loathsome and dreadful, that he was ready to faint away. At one time, after profound meditation, different beings spring forth: one from his thumb, another from his breath, a third from his ear, a fourth from his side. But enough of such monstrous legends."[26] There now, reader, you have the original of the Development Theory, with Vestiges of Creation enough to make half a dozen new infidel cosmogonies, besides the genuine original of Pantheism, from its native soil. Our western Pantheists will doubtless reverence their venerable progenitors; and, should the remainder of the family find their way here in a year or two, via Germany, the public will be better prepared to give a fitting reception to such distinguished visitors, including their suite of divine bulls and holy monkeys, their lustrations of cow dung, ecstatic hook swingings, burning of widows, and drowning of children, and other Pantheistic Philosophies, from the banks of the Ganges. What an outrage of decency for such men to call themselves philosophers and Christians! The relationship of American Pantheism with that of India is unblushingly acknowledged by the recent Pantheistic writers: "When ancient sages came to believe in the absolute goodness, justice, love, and wisdom of the deity, or providence, they fell into that peace which needed nothing, feared nothing, and therefore worshiped nothing. Nothing to blame, nothing to praise; the perfect whole became one great divinity. It was so in Magadha and Benares; it is so in Concord and Boston."[27] 2. _Pantheism is a System of Deception and Hypocrisy._--Has any man a right to pervert the English language, by fixing new meanings to words, entirely different from and contrary to those in common use? If he knows the meaning of the words he uses, and uses them to convey a contrary meaning, he is a deceiver. The name God, used as a proper name, in the English tongue, means "the Supreme Being; Jehovah; the Eternal and Infinite Spirit, the Creator and Sovereign of the Universe."[28] If, then, a man says he believes in God, but when forced to explain what he means by that name, says he means steam, heat, electricity, galvanism, magnetism, mesmeric force, odyle, animal life, the soul of man, or the sum of all the intelligences in the universe, he is a deceiver, and vain talker, abusing language to conceal his impiety. Pantheism is simply Jesuitical Atheism. Willing to dethrone Jehovah, but unable and unwilling to place any other being in his stead, as Creator and Ruler of the universe, yet conscious that mankind will never embrace open Atheism, Pantheists profess to believe in God, only that they may steal his name to cloak their Atheism. We, in common with all who believe in God, demand, that, as their divinity is, by their own confession, essentially different from God, they shall use a different word to describe it. Let them call it Brahm, as their brethren in India do, or any other name not appropriated to any existing being in heaven or earth, or under the earth; and let them cease to profane religion, and insult common sense, by affixing the holy name of the Supreme to their thousand-headed monster. But the very perfection of Jesuitism is reached, when Pantheists profess their high respect for the Christian religion. They do not generally speak of it as a superstition, though some of the vulgar sort do; nor do they decry its mysteries, as Deists are in the habit of doing; nor, as Socinians, and Unitarians, and Rationalists, do they attempt to reduce it to a mere code of morals. They grant it to be the highest development of humanity yet reached by the majority of the human race. The brute, the savage, the polytheistic idolater, the star worshiper, the monotheist, the Christian, are all, in their scheme, so many successive developments of humanity in its upward progress. There is only one step higher than Christianity, and that is Pantheism. Well knowing that Christianity is diametrically opposed to their falsehoods, and that the Bible, everywhere, teaches that the natural progress of man has ever been down from a state of holiness to idolatry and barbarism, they have yet the hardihood to profess respect for it, as a system of concealed Pantheism, and to clothe their abominations in Scripture language. They speak, for instance, of the "beauty of holiness in the mind, that has surmounted every idea of a personal God;" and of "God dwelling in us, and his love perfected in us," when they believe that he dwells as really in every creature: in that hog, for instance. Then they will readily acknowledge that the Bible is inspired. They _can accept_--that is the phrase--they can accept the Book which denounces death upon those fools who, "professing themselves to be wise, change the truth of God into a lie, and worship and serve the creature more than the Creator," as merely a mystic revelation of the Pantheism which leaves man to "erect everything into a God, provided it is none: sun, moon, stars, a cat, a monkey, an onion, uncouth idols, sculptured marble; nay, a shapeless trunk, which the devout impatience of the idolater does not stay to fashion into the likeness of a man, but gives its apotheosis at once." Oh, yes; they accept the Bible as inspired--a God inspired Book--inasmuch as _every_ product of the human mind is a development of Deity. The Bible, then, when we have the matter fully explained, is quite on a level with Gulliver's Travels, or Emerson's Address to a Senior Class of Divinity. There is nothing, however, in this vast system of monstrosities, which fills the soul of a Christian with such loathing and detestation, as to hear Pantheists profess their veneration for the Lord Jesus, and claim him as a teacher of Pantheism. If there is one object which they detest with all their hearts, it is the Judge of the quick and dead, and the vengeance which he shall take upon them that know not God, and obey not the gospel. Any allusion to the judgment seat of Christ fills them with fury, and causes them to pour forth awful blasphemies. They know that the Lord Jesus repeatedly declared himself the Judge of the living and the dead--that "the hour is coming in which all that are in their graves shall hear his voice, and shall come forth: they that have done good, unto the resurrection of life, and they that have done evil, unto the resurrection of damnation;" and that the very last sentence of his public discourses is, "And these" (the wicked) "shall go away into everlasting punishment; but the righteous into life eternal." When they drop the mask for a moment, they can accuse apostles and disciples with "dwelling with noxious exaggeration about the _person_ of Christ."[29] Christ, as revealed in the gospel, they hate with a perfect hatred. But when it becomes necessary to address Christians, and beguile them into the deceitfulness of Pantheism, the tune is changed. Christ becomes the model man--"one conceived in conditions favorable to the highest perfectibility of the individual consciousness; and so possessed of powers of generalization far in advance of the age in which he lived. They can listen to and honor one of the best expounders of God and nature in the Man of Nazareth."[30] The vilest falsehoods of Pantheism are ascribed to Jesus, that those who, ignorant of his doctrine, yet respect his name, may be seduced to receive them. Of him who declared, "Out of the heart of man proceed evil thoughts, murders, adulteries, thefts, false witness, blasphemies," they have the hardihood to declare, "He saw with open eyes the mystery of the soul; alone, in all history, he estimated the greatness of man." Calculating upon that ignorance of the teaching of Christ which is so general among their audiences, they dare to represent the only begotten Son of God as teaching Pantheism: "One man was true to what is in you and me; he saw that God incarnates himself in man, and evermore goes forth anew to take possession of his world. He said in this jubilee of sublime emotion, 'I am divine. Through me God acts; through me, speaks. Would you see God, see me; or see thee when thou also thinkest as I now think.' Because the indwelling Supreme Spirit can not wholly be got rid of, the doctrine of it suffers this perversion, that the divine nature is attributed to one or two persons, and denied to all the rest, and denied with fury." Yes, truly, the divine nature is emphatically denied to all unregenerated men, and denied, too, by that divine teacher thus eulogized. Hear him: "Ye do the deeds of your father. Then said they to him, We be not born of fornication; we have one Father, even God. Jesus said unto them, If God were your Father, ye would love me; for I proceeded forth and came from God; neither came I of myself, but he sent me. Why do ye not understand my speech? Even because ye can not hear my word. Ye are of your father, the devil; and the works of your father ye will do. He was a murderer from the beginning, and abode not in the truth, because there is no truth in him. When he speaketh a lie, he speaketh it of his own; for he is a liar, and the father of it." Let Pantheists, then, cease to wind their serpent coils around Christianity, and to defile the Bible with their filthy lickings. The Lord Jesus will not suffer such persons to bear even a true testimony to him, and his followers will not permit them to ascribe their falsehoods to him, without reproof. Let them stand out and avow themselves the enemies of Christ and his gospel, as they are, and cease their abominable pretenses of giving to the world the ultimate development of Christianity. What concord hath Christ with Belial? 3. _Pantheism is a System of Immorality._--It loosens all the sanctions of moral law. If there is anything upon which all Pantheists are agreed, it is in the denial of the resurrection, the judgment, and the future punishment of the wicked. Their whole system, in all its range, from Spiritualism to Phrenology, is expressly invented to get rid of God's moral government. If man is the highest intelligence in the universe, to whom should he render an account of his conduct? Or who would have any right to call him to account? Then, if we are developments of deity, deity can not offend against itself. Further, if our development, both of body and mind, be the inevitable result of the laws of nature--of our organization and our position--man is but the creature of circumstances, and, therefore, as is abundantly argued, can not be made responsible for laws and their results, over which he has no control. "I am what I am. I can not alter my will, or be other than what I am, and can not deserve either reward or punishment."[31] Before hundreds of the citizens of Cincinnati, a lecturer publicly denied the right of either God or man to invade his individuality, by taking vengeance upon him for any crime whatever. Thousands, who are not yet Pantheists, are so far infected with the poison that they utterly deny any right of vindictive punishment to God or man. But this is not all. Again and again have we listened with astonishment to men, declaring that there was no moral law--no standard of right and wrong, but the will of the community. Of course it was quite natural, after such a declaration, to assert that a wife who should remain with a husband of inferior intellectuality, or unsuitable emotions, was committing adultery; that private property is a legalized robbery; and that when a citizen becomes mentally or physically unfit for the business of life, he confers the highest obligation on society, and performs the highest duty to himself, by committing suicide, and thus returning to the great ocean of being! We might think that confusion of right and wrong could not be worse confounded than this; yet there is a blacker darkness still. _The distinction between good and evil is absolutely denied._ The Hindoo Pantheists declare that they can not sin, because they are God, and God can not offend against himself; there is no sin--it is all _maya_--delusion. So the American and English school tells us it lives only in the obsolete theology. Evil, we are told, "is good in another way we are not skilled in."[32] So says the author of "Representative Men." "Evil," according to old philosophers, "is good in the making; that pure malignity can exist is the extreme proposition of unbelief. It is not to be entertained by a rational agent. It is Atheism; it is the last profanation." "The divine effort is never relaxed; the carrion in the sun will convert itself into grass and flowers; and man, though in brothels, or jails, or on gibbets, is on his way to all that is good and true."[33] Emerson, in a lecture in Cincinnati, is reported by the editor of _The Central Herald_, as saying in his hearing: "To say that the majority of men are wicked, is only to say that they are young." "Every man is indebted to his vices--virtues grow out of them as a thrifty and fruitful plant grows out of manure." "There is hope even for the reprobate, and the ruffian, in the fullness of time." If these were only the ravings of lunatics, or the dreamings of philosophers, we should never have hunted them from their hiding-places to scare your visions; but these doctrines are weekly propounded in your own city, and throughout our land, from platform and press, to thousands of your children and their school-teachers, of your work, men and your lawgivers, to your wives and daughters. Again and again have our ears been confounded in the squares of New York, and the streets of Philadelphia, and the market-places of Cincinnati, by the boisterous cry, _What is sin? There is no sin. It is all an old story._ Let men who fear no God, but who have lives, and wives, and property to lose, look to it, and say if they act wisely in giving their influence to a system which lands in such consequences. Let them devise some religion for the people which will preserve the rights of man, while giving license to trample upon the rights of God; or, failing in the effort, let them acknowledge that the enemy of God is, and of necessity must be, the foe of all that constitutes the happiness of man. Impiety and immorality are wedded in heaven's decree, and man can not sunder them. 4. _Pantheism is Virtually Atheism._--It may scarce seem needful to multiply proofs on this head. How can any one imagine a being composed of the sum of all the intelligences of the universe? Such a thing, or combination of things, never was distinctly conceived of by any intelligent being. Can intelligences be compounded, or like bricks and mortar, piled upon each other? If they could, did these finite intelligences create themselves? If the soul of man is the highest intelligence in the universe, did the soul of man create, or does the soul of man govern it? Shall we adore his soul? Some Pantheists have got just to this length. M. Comte declares, that "At this present time, for minds properly familiarized with true astronomical philosophy, the heavens display no other glory than that of Hipparchus, or Kepler, or Newton, and of all who have helped to establish these laws." _Establish_ these laws! Laws by which the heavenly bodies were guided thousands of years before Kepler or Newton were born. Shall we then adore the souls of Kepler and Newton? M. Comte has invented a religion, which he is much displeased that the admirers of his Positive Philosophy will not accept, in which the children are to be taught to worship idols, the youth to believe in one God, if they can, after such a training in infancy, and the full-grown men are to adore a Grand Etre, "the continuous resultant of all the forces capable of voluntarily concurring in the universal perfectioning of the world, _not forgetting our worthy auxiliaries, the animals_."[34] Our Anglo-Saxon Pantheists, however, are not quite philosophical enough yet to adore the mules and oxen, and therefore refuse worship altogether. "Work is worship," constitutes their liturgy. "As soon as the man is as one with God, he will not beg. He will then see prayer in all action."[35] "Labor wide as earth has its summit in heaven. Sweat of the brow, and up from that to sweat of the brain, sweat of the heart; which includes all Kepler calculations, Newton meditations, all sciences, all spoken epics, all acted heroisms, martyrdoms, up to that agony of bloody sweat, which all men have accounted divine! Oh, brother, if this is not worship, then I say, the more pity for worship; for this is the noblest thing yet discovered under God's sky." "No man has worked, or can work, except religiously."[36] "Adieu, O Church! Thy road is that way, mine is this. In God's name, adieu!"[37] Such is the theory. How faithfully acted out, you can learn from the thousands who are now, publicly, upon God's holy Sabbath, working religiously upon the bridge that is to span the river, or less ostentatiously in their shops and workrooms throughout the city. Within a circle of three miles' radius of the spot you now occupy, one hundred thousand intelligent beings in this Christian city worship no God. The abstraction, which the Pantheist calls God, is no object of worship. It is not to be loved. If it does good, it could not help it, and did not intend it. It is not to be thanked for benefits. It, the sum of all the intelligence of the universe, can not be collected from the seven spheres to receive any such acknowledgment. It can not deviate from its fated course of proceeding; therefore, says the Pantheist, why should I pray? It neither sees his conduct, nor cares for it; and he denies any right to call him to account. It did not create him, does not govern him, will not judge him, can not punish him. It is no object of love, fear, worship, or obedience. It is no god. He is an Atheist. He believes not in any God. HEAR, O ISRAEL! THE LORD OUR GOD IS ONE LORD. He is distinct from, and supreme over all his works. He now rules, and will hereafter judge all intelligent creatures, and will render to every one according to his works. 1. _Reason declares it._ The world did not make itself. The soul of man did not make itself. The body of man did not make itself. They must have had an intelligent Creator, who is God. God is known by his works to be distinct from them, and superior to them. The work is not the workman. The house is not the builder. The watch is not the watchmaker. The sum of all the works of any worker is not the agent who produced them. Let an architect spend his life in building a city, yet the city is not the builder. The maker is always distinct from, and superior to, the thing made. You and I, and the universe, are made. Our Maker, then, is distinct from, and superior to us. One plan gives order to the universe; therefore, one mind originated it. The Creator is over all his creatures. 2. _Our consciousness confirms it._ If a blind god could not make a seeing man, a god destitute of the principle of self-consciousness (if such an abuse of language may be tolerated for a moment) could not impart to man the conviction, _I am_,--the ineradicable belief that I am not the world, nor any other person; much less, everybody; but that I am a person, possessed of powers of knowing, thinking, liking and disliking, judging, approving of right, and disapproving of wrong, and choosing and willing my conduct. My Maker has at least as much common sense as he has given me. He that teacheth man knowledge, shall he not know? 3. _Our ignorance and weakness demand a Governor of the world wiser than ourselves._ The soul of man is not the highest intelligence in the universe. It can not know the mode of its own operation on the body it inhabits, much less the plan of the world's management. Man may know much about what does not concern him, and about things over which he has no control; but it is the will of God that his pride should feel the curb of ignorance and impotence where his dearest interests are concerned, that so he may be compelled to acknowledge that God is greater than man. He may be able to tell the place of the distant planets a thousand years hence, but he can not tell where himself shall be next year. He can calculate for years to come the motions of the tides, which he can not control, but can not tell how his own pulse shall beat, or whether it shall beat at all, to-morrow. Ever as his knowledge of the laws by which God governs the world increases, his conviction of his impotence grows; and he sees and feels that a wiser head and stronger hand than that of any creature, planned and administered them. Ever as he reaches some ultimate truth, such as the mystery of electricity, of light, of life, of gravitation, which he can not explain, and beyond which he can not penetrate, he hears the voice of God therein, demanding him to acknowledge his impotence. "Where is the way where light dwelleth, And as for darkness, what is the place thereof? Canst thou bind the sweet influences of the Pleiades, Or loose the bands of Orion? Canst thou bring forth Mazzaroth in his seasons? Or canst thou guide Arcturus, with his sons? Knowest thou the ordinances of heaven? Canst thou set the dominion thereof in the earth? Canst thou lift up thy voice to the clouds, That abundance of waters may cover thee? Canst thou send lightnings, that they may go And say unto thee, 'Here we are?'" 4. _Our consciences convince us that God is a Moral Governor._ The distinction between brutes and men is, that man has a sense of the distinction between right and wrong. If we find a tribe of savages, or individuals who indulge their appetites without rule, and who do wrong without any apparent remorse or shame, we designate them brutes. Even those who in words deny any difference between right and wrong, do in fact admit its existence, by their attempts to justify that opinion. Though weaker, or less regarded in some than in others, every man is conscious of a faculty in himself which sits in judgment on his own conduct, and that of others, approving or condemning it as right or wrong. In all lands, and in all ages, the common sense of mankind has acknowledged the existence and moral authority of conscience, as distinct from and superior to mere intellect. No language of man is destitute of words conveying the ideas of virtue and vice, of goodness and wickedness. When one attempts to deceive you by a willful lie, you are sensible not only of an intellectual process of reason detecting the error, but of a distinct judgment of disapprobation of the crime. When one who has received kindness from a benefactor, neglects to make any acknowledgment of it, cherishes no feelings of gratitude, and insults and abuses the friend who succored him, we are conscious, not merely of the facts, as phenomena to be observed, but of the ingratitude, as a crime to be detested. And we are irresistibly constrained to believe that he who taught us this knowledge of a difference between right and wrong, does himself know such a distinction; and that he who implanted this feeling of approval of right, and condemnation of wrong, in us, does himself approve the right, and condemn the wrong. And as we can form no notion of right or wrong unconnected with the idea that approbation of right conduct should be suitably expressed, and that disapprobation of wrong conduct ought also to be suitably expressed--in other words, that right ought to be rewarded, and wrong ought to be punished--so we are constrained to trace such a connection from our minds to the mind of him who framed them. This conviction is God's law, written in our hearts. When we do wrong, we become conscious of a feeling of remorse in our consciences, as truly as the eye becomes conscious of the darkness. We may blind the eye, and we may sear the conscience, that the one shall not see, nor the other feel; but light and darkness, right and wrong, will exist. The awful fact which conscience reveals to us, that we sin against God, that we know the right, and do the wrong, and are conscious of it, and of God's disapprobation of it, is conclusive proof that we are not only distinct from God, but separate from him--that we oppose our wills against his. And every pang of remorse is a premonition of God's judgment, and every sorrow and suffering which the Governor of the world has connected with sin--as the drunkard's loss of character and property, of peace and happiness, the frenzy of his soul, and the destruction of his body--is a type and teaching of the curse which he has denounced against sin. 5. _The World's History is the record of man's crimes, and God's punishments._ Once God swept the human race from earth with a flood of water, because the wickedness of man was great on the earth. Again, he testified his displeasure against the ungodly sinners of Sodom and Gomorrah, by consuming their cities with fire from heaven, and leaving the Dead Sea to roll its solemn waves of warning to all ungodly sinners, to the end of time. By the ordinary course of his providence, he has ever secured the destruction of ungodly nations. No learning, commerce, arms, territories, or skill, has ever secured a rebellious nation against the sword of God's justice. Ask the black record of a rebel world's history for an instance. Egypt, Canaan, Nineveh, Babylon, Persia, Greece, Rome. Where are they now? Tyre had ships, colonies, and commerce; Rome an empire on which the sun never set; Greece had philosophy, arts, and liberty secured by a confederation of republics; Spain the treasures of earth's gold and silver, and the possession of half the globe. Did these secure them against the moral government of God? No! God's law sways the universe; that law which, with the brazen fetters of eternal justice, binds together sin and misery, crime and punishment, and lays the burden on the backs of all ungodly nations, irresistibly forcing them down--down--down the road to ruin. The vain imagination that refuses to glorify God as God, leads to darkness of heart, thence to Atheism, thence to gross idolatry, onward to selfish gratification, violent rapacity, lust of conquest, and luxury, licentiousness, and effeminacy begotten of its spoils; then military tyranny, civil war, servile revolt, anarchy, famine and pestilence, and the sword of less debauched neighbors, Christ's iron scepter, hurl them down from the pinnacle of greatness, to dash them in pieces against each other, in the valley of destruction; and there they lie, wrecks of nations, ruins of empires, naught remaining, save some shivered potsherds of former greatness, to show that once they were, and were the enemies of God. Oh, America, take warning ere it be too late! God rules the nations. "He that chastiseth the heathen, shall he not correct you?" A day of retribution, reader, comes to you, as an individual. Neither your insignificance nor your unbelief can hide you from his eye, nor can your puny arm shield you from his righteous judgment. His hand shall find out his enemies. Oh, fly from the wrath to come! "Seek the Lord while he may be found." He is not far from every one of us. His breath is in our nostrils. His Word is in our hands. "Whosoever shall call on the name of the Lord shall be saved." FOOTNOTES: [23] Cited in Pressense's _Jesus Christ, His Life and Times_. Page 10. [24] Emerson. [25] Duff's India, pages 99-114. [26] Duff's India, page 119. [27] Man's Origin and Destiny, 293. [28] Webster's Dictionary. [29] Emerson's Address to a Senior Class in Divinity. [30] Hennell's Christian Theism, which shows how Theists of every nation--Christian, Jew, Mohammedan, or Chinese--can meet upon common ground. [31] Atkinson's Letters, page 190. [32] Festus, page 48. [33] Swedenborg, or the Mystic (quoted by Pierson, 41), p. 68. [34] Politique Positive, Vol. II. page 60. [35] Emerson. [36] Carlyle--Past and Present. [37] Carlyle--Life of Sterling. CHAPTER IV. HAVE WE ANY NEED OF THE BIBLE? Religion consists of the knowledge of a number of great facts, and of a course of life suitable to them. We have seen three of these: that God created the world; that he governs it; and that he is able to conquer his enemies. There are others of the same sort as needful to be known. Our knowledge of these facts, or our ignorance of them, makes not the slightest difference in the facts themselves. God is, and heaven is, and hell is, and sin leads to it, whether anybody believes these things or not. It makes no sort of difference in the beetling cliff and swollen flood that sweeps below it, that the drunken man declares there is no danger, and, refusing the proffered lantern, gallops on toward it in the darkness of the night. But when the mangled corpse is washed ashore, every one sees how foolish this man was, to be so confident in his ignorance as to refuse the lantern, which would have shown him his danger, and guided him to the bridge where he might have crossed in safety. Some of the facts of religion lie at the evening end of life's journey; the darkness of death's night hides them from mortal eye; and living men might guide their steps the better by asking counsel of one who knows the way. If they get along no better by their own counsel in the next world than most of them do in this, they will have small cause to bless their teacher. Who can tell that ignorance, and wickedness, and wretchedness are not as tightly tied together in the world to come, as we see them here? Solomon was a knowing man and wise; and better than that, in the esteem of most people, he made money, and tells you how to make it, and keep it. You will make a hundred dollars by reading his Proverbs and acting on them. They would have saved some of you many a thousand. Of course such a man knew something of the world. He was a wide-awake trader. His ships coasted the shores of Asia, and Africa, from Madagascar to Japan; and the overland mail caravans from India and China drew up in the depots he built for them in the heart of the desert. He knew the well-doing people with whom trade was profitable, and the savages who could only send apes and peacocks. He was a philosopher as well as a trader, and could not help being deeply impressed with _the great fact_, that there was a wide difference among the nations of the world. Some were enlightened, enterprising, civilized, and flourishing; others were naked savages, living in ignorance, poverty, vice, and starvation, perpetually murdering one another, and dying out of the earth. Solomon noticed _another great fact_. In his own country, and in Chaldea, Mesopotamia, Egypt, and some others, God had revealed his will to certain persons for the benefit of their neighbors. He did so generally by opening the eyes of these prophets to see future events, and the great facts of the unseen world, and by giving them messages of warning and instruction to the nations. From this mode of revelation, by opening the prophets eyes to see realities invisible to others, they were called seers, and the revelations they were commissioned to make were called visions; and revelation from God was called, in general, vision. Solomon was struck with the fact that some nations were thus favored by God, and other nations were not. The question would naturally arise, What difference does it make, or does it make any difference, whether men have any revelation of God's will or not? Solomon was led to observe a _third great fact_. The nations which were favored with these revelations were the civilized, enterprising, and comparatively prosperous nations. In proportion to the amount of divine revelation they had, and their obedience to it, they prospered. The nations that had no revelation from God were the idolatrous savages, who were sinking down to the level of brutes, and perishing off the face of the earth. He daguerreotypes these three great facts in the proverb: "Where there is no vision the people perish; but he that keepeth the law, happy is he." Oh, says the Rationalist, the world is wiser now than it was in Solomon's days. He lived in the old mythological period, when men attributed everything extraordinary to the gods. But the world is too wise now to believe in any supernatural revelation. "The Hebrew and Christian religions like all others have their myths." "The fact is, the pure historic idea was never developed among the Hebrews during the whole of their political existence." "When, therefore, we meet with an account of certain phenomena, or events of which it is expressly stated or implied that they were produced immediately by God himself (such as divine apparitions, voices from heaven, and the like), or by human beings possessed of supernatural powers (miracles, prophecies, etc.), such an account is so far to be considered not historical." "Indeed, no just notion of the true nature of history is possible without a perception of the inviolability of the chain of finite causes, and of the impossibility of miracles."[38] A narrative is to be deemed mythical, 1st. "When it proceeds from an age in which there were no written records, but events were transmitted by tradition; 2d. When it presents, as historical, accounts of events which were beyond the reach of experience, as occurrences connected with the spiritual world; or 3d. When it deals in the marvelous, and is couched in symbolical language."[39] So also a host of others, who pass for biblical expositors, lay it down as an axiom, that all records of supernatural events are mythical, viz: fables, falsehoods, because miracles are impossible. Of course, from such premises the conclusion is easy. A revelation from God to man is a supernatural event, and supernatural events are impossible; therefore, a revelation from God is impossible. But it would have been much easier, and quite as logical, to have laid down the axiom in plain words at first, that a revelation from God is impossible, as to argue it from such premises; for it is just as easy to _say_, that a revelation from God is impossible, as to _say_ that miracles are impossible; and as for _proof_ of either one or the other, we must just take their word for it. One can not help being amazed at the cool impudence with which these men take for granted the very point to be proved, and set aside, as unworthy of serious examination, the most authentic records of history, simply because they do not coincide with their so-called philosophy; and at the credulity with which their followers swallow this arrogant dogmatism, as if it were self-evident truth. Let us look at it for a moment. Other religions have their myths, or fables, therefore, the Hebrew and Christian records are fables, says the Rationalist. Profundity of logic! Counterfeit bank bills are common, therefore none are genuine. "The fact is, the pure historic idea was never developed among the Hebrews," _i. e._, Moses and the prophets were all liars. That is the fact, you may take my word for it. "Indeed, no just notion of the true nature of history is possible without a perception of the inviolability of the chain of finite causes, and of the impossibility of miracles" which translated into plain words is simply this: No man can understand history who believes in God Almighty. "A narrative is to be deemed fabulous when it proceeds from an age in which there were no written records," such, for instance, as any account of the creation of the first man--for no event could possibly happen unless there was a scribe there to write it. Or, of the fall of man--we do not know that Adam was able to write, and no man can tell truth unless he writes a history. "A narrative is to be deemed fabulous when it presents, as historical, accounts of events which were beyond the reach of experience, as events connected with the spiritual world." Is it not self-evident that you and I have had experience of everything in the whole universe, and whoever tells us anything which we have never seen is a liar. "When a narrative deals in the marvelous," such as Xenophon's Retreat of the Ten Thousand, Herodotus' History, or Gibbon's Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire, dealing as it does in such marvelous accounts as the death of half the inhabitants of the empire in the reign of Galerius, or any other history of wonderful occurrence--it is of course a myth. Does not every one know that nothing marvelous ever happened, or, if it did, would any historian trouble himself to record a prodigy? "Or, if it is couched in symbolical language," as is every eloquent passage in Thucydides, Robertson, Gibbon, or Guizot, the records of China, and of India, the picture-writing of the Peruvians, and especially the Egyptian hieroglyphics, which were fondly expected to do such good service against the Bible--it must be at once rejected, without further examination, as mythological and unworthy of any credit whatever. Thus we are conclusively rid forever of the Bible, for sure enough it is couched in symbolical language. Blessed deliverance to the world! But then, alas! this great deliverance is accompanied with several little inconveniences. All poetry, three-fourths of the world's history, and the largest part of its philosophy, is couched in symbolical language, and especially the whole of the science of metaphysics, from which these very learned writers have deduced such edifying conclusions, is, from the beginning to the end, nothing but a symbolical application of the terms which describe material objects, to the phenomena of mind. Alas! we must forever relinquish "the absolute," and "the infinite," and "the conditioned," with all their "affinities and potencies," up to "higher unity," and "the rhythm of universal existence," and all the rest of those perspicuous German hieroglyphics, whether entombed in their native pyramids for the amazement of succeeding generations, by Fichte, Schelling, or Hegel, or "worshiping in the great cathedral of the immensities," "with their heads uplifted into infinite space," or "lying on the plane of their own consciousness," in the writings of Carlyle, Emerson, and Parker. They are myths, the whole of them, for they "are couched in symbolical language;" and Bauer, De Wette, and Strauss have pronounced every thing couched in symbolical language to be mythical. Let us henceforth deliver our minds from all anxiety about history, philosophy, or religion, and stick to the price current and the multiplication table, the only accounts that are not "couched in symbolical language." Such is the sort of trash that passes for profound philosophy when once it is made unintelligible, and such are the canons of interpretation with which men calling themselves philosophers and Christians sit down to investigate the claims of the Bible as a revelation from God. If they would speak out their true sentiments, they would say, "There can not be any revelation from God, because there is no God." But they could not call themselves professors of Christian colleges, and pastors of Christian churches, and reap the emoluments of such situations, if they would honestly avow their Atheism. Besides, the world would see too plainly the drift of their teaching; therefore it is cloaked under a profession of belief in God, the Creator, who however is to be carefully prevented from ever showing himself again in the world he has made. No proof is attempted for the declaration that miracles are impossible. Yet, surely, if it implies a contradiction to say so, that contradiction could be shown. That it is not self-evident is shown by the general belief of mankind that miracles have occurred. No man who believes in a supernatural being can deny the possibility of supernatural actings. The creation of the world is the most stupendous of all miracles, utterly beyond the power of any finite causes, and entirely beyond the reach of our experience, yet some of these men admit that this miracle occurred. Supernatural events then are not impossible, nor unprecedented. The vain notion that God, having created the world at first, left it for ever after to the operation of natural laws, is conclusively demolished by the discoveries of geology. These discoveries established the fact recorded in Scripture, that in bringing the world into its present form there were several distinct and successive interpositions of supernatural power, in the distinct and successive creations of different species of vegetable and animal life. In former periods, they tell us, the earth was so warm that the present races of men and animals could not have lived on it, and the plants and animals of that age could not live now. These very men are profuse in proving that the earth existed for ages before _man_ made his appearance upon it. This being the case, we are compelled to acknowledge the creating power of God above the laws of nature, for there is no law of nature which can either create a new species of plants or animals, nor yet change one kind into another, make an oak into a larch, or an ox into a sheep, or a goose into a turkey, or a megatherium into an elephant, much less into a man. Some men have dreamed of such changes as these, but no instance of such a change has ever been alleged in proof of the notion. The most distinguished anatomists and geologists are fully agreed that no such change of one animal into another ever took place; much less that any animal ever was changed into a man. Cuvier, from his comprehensive survey of the fossils of former periods, establishes the fact, "that the species now living are not mere varieties of the species which are lost." And Agassiz says, "I have the conviction that species have been created successively, at distinct intervals."[40] Revelations of God's special interpositions in the affairs of this world are thus written by his own finger in the fossils and coal, and engraved on the everlasting granite of the earth's foundation stones. Dumb beasts and dead reptiles start forward to give their irrefutable testimony to the repeated supernatural acts of their Creator in this world which he had made. Every distinct species of plants and animals is proof of a distinct supernatural overruling of the present laws of nature. The experience of man is not the limit of knowledge. His own existence is a proof that the chain of finite causes is not inviolable. Geology sweeps away the very foundations of skepticism, by demonstrating that certain phenomena produced immediately by God himself--the phenomena of the creation of life--have occurred repeatedly in the history of our globe. Revelation is not impossible because supernatural. The world is just as full of supernatural works as of natural. Nor is it incredible because it records miracles. The miracles recorded in the coal measures are as astonishing as any recorded in the Bible. The Rationalist next assures us, however, that any external revelation from God to man is _useless_, because man is wise enough without it. The vulgar exposition of this sentiment is familiar to every reader. "You need not begin to preach Bible to me. I know my duty well enough without the Bible." The more educated attempt to reason the matter after this fashion: "Miraculous phenomena will never prove the goodness and veracity of God, if we do not know these qualities in him without a miracle."[41] We may remark, in passing, that there are some other attributes of God besides goodness and veracity--holiness and justice for instance--which are proved by miracles. "Can thunder from the thirty-two azimuths, repeated daily for centuries, make God's laws more godlike to me? Brother, no. Perhaps I am grown to be a man now, and do not need the thunder and the terror any longer. Perhaps I am above being frightened. Perhaps it is not fear but reverence that shall now lead me! Revelation! Inspirations! And thy own god-created soul, dost thou not call that a revelation?"[42] It is manifest, however, that if Mr. Carlyle needs not the Sinai thunder to assure him that the law given on Sinai was from God, there were then, and are now, many who do, and some of his own sect who doubt in spite of it. If he is above the weakness of fearing God, all the world is not so. The claims of a divine teacher are as unceremoniously rejected as those of a divine revelation. "If it depends on Jesus it is not eternally true, and if it is not eternally true it is no truth at all," says Parker. As if eternally true, and sufficiently known, were just the same thing; or as if because vaccination would always have prevented the smallpox, the world is under no obligation to Jenner for informing us of the fact. In the same tone Emerson despises instruction: "It is not instruction but provocation that I can receive from another soul. What he announces, I must find true in me, or wholly reject; and on his word, or as his second, be he who he may, I can accept nothing." Again says Parker, "Christianity is dependent on no outside authority. We verify its eternal truth in our soul."[43] His aim is "to separate religion from whatever is finite--Church, book, person--and let it rest on its absolute truth."[44] "It bows to no idols, neither the Church, nor the Bible, nor yet Jesus, but God only; its Redeemer is within; its salvation within; its heaven and its oracle of God."[45] The whole strain of this school of writers and their disciples is one of depreciation of external revelation, and of exaltation of the inner light which every man is supposed to carry within him. Religion is "no Morrison's pill from without," but a "clearing of the inner light," a "reawakening of our own selves from within."[46] So Mr. Newman[47] abundantly argues that an authoritative book revelation of moral and spiritual truth is impossible, that God reveals himself within us and not without us, and that a revelation of all moral and religious truth necessary for us to know is to be obtained by _insight_, or gazing into the depths of our own consciousness. The sum of the whole business is, that neither God nor man can reveal any religious truth to our minds, or as Parker felicitously expresses it, "on his word, or as his second, be he who he may, I can accept nothing." Now, we are tempted to ask, Who are these wonderful prodigies, so incapable of receiving instruction from anybody? And to our amazement we learn, that some forty odd years ago they made their appearance among mankind as little squalling babies, without insight enough to know their own names, or where they came from, and were actually dependent on an external revelation, from their nurses, for sense enough to find their mothers' breasts. And as they grew a little larger, they obtained the power of speaking articulate sounds by external revelation, hearing and imitating the sounds made by others. Further, upon a memorable day, they had a "book revelation" made to them, in the shape of a penny primer, and were initiated into the mysteries of A, B, C, by "the instructions of another, be he who he may." There was absolutely not the least "insight," or "spiritual faculty," or "self-consciousness" in one of them, by which they then could, or ever to this hour did, "find true within them" any sort of necessary connection between the signs, c, a, t--d, o, g--and the sounds _cat_, _dog_, or any other sounds represented by any other letters of the alphabet. Faith in the word of their teachers is absolutely the sole foundation and only source of their ability to read and write. On "the word of another, and as his second, be he who he may," every one of them has accepted every intelligible word he speaks or writes. There is living on Martha's Vineyard an old man who has never been off the island, and the extent of his knowledge is bounded by the confines of his home. He has been told of a war between the North and South, but as he had never heard the din of battle, nor seen any soldiers, he considered it a hoax. He is utterly unable to read, and is ignorant to the last degree. A good story is told of his first and only day at school. He was quite a lad when a lady came to the district, where his father lived, to teach school. He was sent, and as the teacher was classifying the school, he was called upon in turn and interrogated as to his studies. Of course he had to say he had never been to school, and knew none of his letters. The schoolmistress gave him a seat on one side until she had finished the preliminary examination of the rest of the scholars. She then called him to her and drew on the blackboard the letter A, and told him what it was, and asked him to remember how it looked. He looked at it a moment, and then inquired: "H-h-how do you know it's A?" The teacher replied that when she was a little girl she had been to school to an old gentleman, who told her so. The boy eyed the A for a moment and then asked: "H-h-how do you know but he l-l-lied?" The teacher could not get over this obstacle, and the poor boy was sent home as incorrigible. Mr. Emerson, and the whole school of those who despise instruction, had better appoint this man their prophet of the inner light, and endow Martha's Vineyard as the Penikese of skepticism. But the knowledge of letters is not half of their indebtedness to external revelation. For they will not deny that a Fiji cannibal has just the same "insight," "spiritual faculty," "mighty and transcendent soul," "self-consciousness," or any other name by which they may dignify our common humanity, which they themselves possess. How does it happen, then, that these writers are not assembled around the cannibal's oven, smearing their faces with the blood, and feasting themselves on the limbs of women and children? The inner nature of the cannibal and of the Rationalist is the same--whence comes the difference of character and conduct? And the inner light, too, is the same; for they assure us that "inspiration, like God's omnipresence, is coextensive with the race." Is it not, after all, mere external revelation, in the shape of education--aye, moral and religious teaching that makes the whole difference between the civilized American and his inspired Fiji brother? These gentlemen not only acknowledge, but try to repay their obligations to external revelation. As it is impossible for God to give the world a book revelation of moral and religious truth, they modestly propose to come to his assistance, it being quite possible for some men to do what is impossible for God. Accordingly, we have a book revelation of moral and religious truth, from one, in his treatise on "The Soul," an "external revelation" from another, in his "Discourse Concerning Religion," a "Morrison's pill from the outside," from a third, in his "Past and Present," and "announcements" from a fourth, which assuredly the great mass of mankind never "found true within them," else his orations and publications had not been needed to convert them. It is to be understood, then, that an "external revelation," or a "book revelation" of spiritual truth is impossible, only when it comes from God, but that these gentlemen have proved it quite possible for themselves to deliver one. In so doing they have undoubtedly attempted to meet the wishes of the greater part of mankind, who have in all lands and in all ages longed for some outward revelation from God, and testified their desire by running after all sorts of omens, auguries, and oracles, consulting witches, and treasuring Sibylline leaves, employing writing mediums, and listening to spirit-rappers. The "inspiration which is limited to no sect, age, or nation--which is wide as the world, and common as God,"[48] has never produced a nation of Rationalists; a fact very unaccountable, if Rationalism be true; and one which might well lead these writers to acknowledge at least one kind of total depravity, namely, that inspired men should love the darkness of external revelations, and even of book revelations, and read Bibles, and Korans, and Vedas, and "Discourses Concerning Religion," and "Phases of Faith," while yet "everything that is of use to man lies in the plane of our own consciousness." Surely, such a universal craving after an external revelation testifies to a felt necessity for it, and renders it probable, or at least desirable, that God would supply the deficiency. Is the religious appetite the only one for which God has provided no supply? The fact is undeniable, that the grand distinction between man and the brutes presents itself right at this point. God guides animals by direct revelation--by their instincts; but having given man reason, and free will, he gives him the whole field of life for their exercise upon the indirect revelations he makes to us through the mediation of others. For all that we know of history, geography, politics, mechanics, agriculture, poetry, philosophy, or any of the common business of life, from the baking of a loaf of bread, or the sewing of a shirt, to the following of a funeral, and the digging of a grave, we are indebted to education, not to inspiration. All analogy then induces the belief that religion also will be taught to mankind by the ministry of human teachers, rather than by the direct inspiration of every individual. But we are instructed, that, "as we have bodily senses to lay hold on matter, and supply bodily wants, through which we obtain naturally all needed material things, so we have spiritual faculties to lay hold on God, and supply spiritual wants; through them we obtain all needed spiritual things." That we have both bodily senses and spiritual faculties is doubtless true; but whether either the one or the other obtain all needed things is somewhat doubtful. I can not tell how it is with mankind in Boston, for I am not there; and this being a matter in which religious truth is concerned, Mr. Emerson will not allow me to receive instruction about it from any other soul; but I see from my window a poor widow, with five children, who has bodily senses to lay hold on matter, and supply bodily wants; yet in my opinion she has not obtained naturally all needed material things; and if there be a truth which lies emphatically in the plane of her own consciousness, it is, that she is in great need of a cord of wood, and a barrel of flour, for her starving children. I know, also, a man, to whom God gave bodily senses to lay hold on matter, and supply bodily wants, who, by his drunkenness, has destroyed these bodily senses, and brought his family to utter destitution of all needed material things. From one cause or another, I find multitudes here in poverty and destitution, notwithstanding they have bodily senses. It is reported, also, that there is a poor-house in Boston, and poverty in Ireland, and starvation in Madeira, and famine in the inundated provinces of France, and misery and destitution in London; which, if true, completely overturns this beautiful theory. For, if, notwithstanding the possession of bodily senses, men do starve in this world for want of needful food and clothing, it is very possible that they may have spiritual faculties also, and yet not obtain through them all needed spiritual things. The second part of the theory is as baseless as the first. All men have spiritual faculties, and have not obtained by them all needed spiritual things. They have not in their own opinion, and surely they are competent judges of "what lies wholly in the plane of their own consciousness." In proof of the fact that mankind have not, in their own opinion, obtained all needed spiritual things by the use of their spiritual faculties, without the aid of external revelation, we appeal to all the religions of mankind, Heathen, Mohammedan, and Christian. Every one of these appeals to revelations from God. Every lawgiver of note professed to have communication with heaven, Zoroaster, Minos, Pythagoras, Solon, Lycurgus, Numa, Mohammed, down to the chief of the recent revolution in China. "Whatever becomes of the real truth of these relations," says Strabo of those before his day, "_it is certain that men did believe and think them true_." If mankind has found the supply of all their spiritual wants within themselves, would they have clung in this way to the pretense of external revelations? Is not the abundance of quack doctors conclusive proof of the existence of disease, and of the need of physicians? Not only was the need of an external revelation of some sort acknowledged by all mankind, but the insufficiency of the pretended oracles which they enjoyed was deplored by the wisest part of them. We never find men amidst the dim moonlight of tradition, and the light of nature, vaunting the sufficiency of their inward light; it is only amidst the full blaze of noonday Christianity that philosophers can stand up and declare that they have no need of God's teaching. Had such men lived in Athens of old, they would have found men possessed of spiritual faculties, and those of no mean order, engaged in erecting an altar with this inscription, "_To the Unknown God._" One of the wisest of the heathen (Socrates) acknowledged that he could attain to no certainty respecting religious truth or moral duty, in these memorable words, "We must of necessity wait, till some one from him who careth for us, shall come and instruct us how we ought to behave toward God and toward man." The chief of the Academy, whose philosophy concerning the eternity of matter occupies a conspicuous place in the creed of American heathens, had no such confidence in the sufficiency of his own powers of discovering religious truth. "We can not know of ourselves what petition will be pleasing to God, or what worship we should pay to him; but it is necessary that a lawgiver should be sent from heaven to instruct us." "Oh how greatly do I long to see that man!" He further declares that "_this lawgiver must be more than man, that he may teach us the things man can not know by his own nature_."[49] Whether this want of a revelation from God was real, or merely imaginary, will appear by a brief review of the opinions and practices of those who never enjoyed, and of those who reject the light of God's revelation. _They knew not God._ If there is any article of religion fundamental, and indispensable to its very existence, it is the knowledge of God. It is admitted by Rationalists that the spiritual faculties are designed to lay hold on God. It has been proved in the previous chapter, and it will be admitted by all but Atheists, that God is an Intelligent Being. And further it has been proved that God is not everything and everybody, but distinct from and supreme over all his works. Besides, in this country at least, there will not be much difference of opinion as to the propriety of a rational being adoring a brute, or a log of wood, or a lump of stone. It will be allowed that such stupidity shows both ignorance and folly. Now let us inquire into the knowledge of God possessed by the people who have no vision. The Chaldeans, the most ancient people of whom we have any account, and who had among them the immediate descendants of Noah, and whatever traditions of Noah's prophecies they preserved, were probably the best instructed of the heathen. Yet we find that they gave up the worship of God, adored the sun, and moon, and stars of heaven, and in process of time degenerated still further, and worshiped dumb idols. From this rock we were hewn; the common names of the days of the week, and especially of the first day of the week, will forever keep up a testimony to the necessity of that revelation which delivered our forefathers and us from burning our children upon the devil's altars on Sun-days. The Egyptians were reputed the most learned of mankind, and Egypt was considered the cradle of the arts and sciences. In her existing monuments, hieroglyphic inscriptions, and tomb paintings, we have presented to us the materials for forming a more correct opinion of the religion and life of the Egyptians than of any other ancient people; and the investigation of these monuments is still adding to our information. Infidel writers and lecturers have not hesitated to allege that Moses merely taught the Israelites the religion of Egypt; and some have had the hardihood to allege that the ten commandments are found written on the pyramids, as an argument against the necessity of a revelation. If the statement were true, it would by no means prove the conclusion. Egypt was favored with divine revelations to several of her kings, and enjoyed occasional visits from, or the permanent teachings of, such prophets as Abraham, Jacob, Joseph, and Moses, for four hundred years; a fact quite sufficient to account for her superiority to other heathen nations, as well as for the existence of some traces of true religion on her monuments. But the alleged fact is a falsehood. Some good moral precepts are found on the Egyptian monuments, but the ten commandments are not there. It may be charitably supposed that those who allege the contrary never learned the ten commandments, or have forgotten them, else they would have remembered that the first commandment is, "Thou shalt have no other gods before me;" and that Pharaoh indignantly asks, "Who is Jehovah that I should obey his voice? I know not God:" and that the second is, "Thou shalt not make unto thee any graven image," etc., and would have paused before alleging that these commands were engraved on the very temples of idols, and by the priests of the birds, and beasts, and images of creeping things which they adored. It is very doubtful if they believed in the existence of one supreme God, as most of the heathen did; but if they did, "they did not under any form, symbol, or hieroglyphic, represent the idea of the unity of God," as is fully proved by Wilkinson.[50] On the contrary, the monuments confirm the satirical sketch of the poet,[51] as to the "monsters mad Egypt worshiped; here a sea-fish, there a river-fish; whole towns adore a dog. This place fears an ibis saturated with serpents; that adores a crocodile. It is a sin to violate a leek or onion, or break them with a bite." Cruel wars were waged between different towns, as Plutarch tells us, because the people of Cynopolis would eat a fish held sacred by the citizens of Latopolis. Bulls, and dogs, and cats, and rats, and reptiles, and dung beetles, were devoutly adored by the learned Egyptians. A Roman soldier, who had accidentally killed one of their gods, a cat, was put to death for sacrilege.[52] Whenever a dog died, every person in the house went into mourning, and fasted till night. So low had the "great, the mighty and transcendent soul," been degraded that there is a picture extant of one of the kings of Egypt worshiping his own coffin! Such is man's knowledge of God without a revelation from him. The Greeks, from their early intercourse with Egypt, borrowed from them most of their religion; but by later connections with the Hebrews, about the time of Aristotle and Alexander, they gathered a few grains of truth to throw into the heap of error. After the translation of the Scriptures into Greek, in the reign of Ptolemy Philadelphus, any of their philosophers who desired might easily have learned the knowledge of the true God. But before this period we find little or no sense or truth in their religion. And the same remarks will apply to the Romans. Their gods were as detestable as they were numerous. Hesiod tells us they had thirty thousand. Temples were erected to all the passions, fears, and diseases to which humanity is subject. Their supreme god, Jupiter, was an adulterer, Mars a murderer, Mercury a thief, Bacchus a drunkard, Venus a harlot; and they attributed other crimes to their gods too horrible to be mentioned. Such gods were worshiped, with appropriate ceremonies, of lust, drunkenness, and bloodshed. Their most sacred mysteries, carried on under the patronage of these licentious deities, were so abominable and infamous, that it was found necessary, for the preservation of any remnant of good order, to prohibit them. It may be supposed that the human race is grown wiser now than in the days of Socrates and Cicero, and that such abominations are no longer possible. Turn your eyes, then, to India, and behold one hundred and fifty millions of rational beings, possessed of "spiritual faculties," "insight," and "the religious sentiment," worshiping three hundred and thirty millions of gods, in the forms of hills, and trees, and rivers, and rocks, elephants, tigers, monkeys, and rats, crocodiles, serpents, beetles, and ants, and monsters like to nothing in heaven or earth, or under the earth. Take one specimen of all. There is "the lord of the world," Juggernath. "When you think of the monster block of the idol, with its frightfully grim and distorted visage, so justly styled the Moloch of the East, sitting enthroned amid thousands of massive sculptures, the representative emblems of that cruelty and vice which constitute the very essence of his worship; when you think of the countless multitudes that annually congregate there, from all parts of India, many of them measuring the whole distance of their weary pilgrimage with their own bodies; when you think of the merit-earning assiduities constantly practiced by crowds of devotees and religious mendicants, around the holy city, some remaining all day with their head on the ground, and their feet in the air; others with their bodies entirely covered with earth; some cramming their eyes with mud, and their mouths with straw, while others lie extended in a puddle of water; here one man lying with his foot tied to his neck, another with a pot of fire on his breast, a third enveloped in a network of ropes; when, besides these self-inflicted torments, you think of the frightful amount of involuntary suffering and wretchedness arising from the exhaustion of toilsome pilgrimages, the cravings of famine, and the scourgings of pestilence; when you think of the day of the high festival--how the horrid king is dragged forth from his temple, and mounted on his lofty car, in the presence of hundreds of thousands, that cause the very earth to shake with shouts of 'Victory to Juggernath, our Lord;' how the officiating high priest, stationed in front of the elevated idol, commences the public service by a loathsome pantomimic exhibition, accompanied with the utterance of filthy, blasphemous songs, to which the vast multitude at intervals respond, not in the strains of tuneful melody, but in loud yells of approbation, united with a kind of hissing applause; when you think of the carnage that ensues, in the name of sacred offering--how, as the ponderous machine rolls on, grating harsh thunder, one and another of the more enthusiastic devotees throw themselves beneath the wheels, and are instantly crushed to pieces, the infatuated victims of hellish superstition; when you think of the numerous Golgothas that bestud the neighboring plain, where the dogs, jackals and vultures seem to live on human prey; and of those bleak and barren sands that are forever whitened with the skulls and bones of deluded pilgrims which lie bleaching in the sun,"[53] you will be able to see an awful force of meaning in the words of our text, and to realize more fully the necessity of a revelation from God, for the preservation of animal life to man. Literally, where there is no vision the people _perish_. Man doth not live by bread only, but by every word which proceedeth from the mouth of God. Take one other illustration of ignorance of God in the minds of those who close their eyes against the light of revelation--the heathen of Europe and America, possessing that inspiration which is wide as the world, looking abroad upon all the glorious works of the great Creator, and declaring there is no God. On the other hand, we have men, possessed of this same inspiration, deifying everything, and outrunning even the Hindoos in the multitude of their divinities, declaring that every stick, and stone, and serpent, and snail that crawls on the earth is God, and making professions of holding spiritual communings with them all. To crown the monument of folly, the chief of the Positive Philosophy comes forth with a revelation from his spiritual faculties, in which by way of improving on the proverb "both are best," and of being sure of the truth, he unites Atheism, and Pantheism, and Idolatry--teaches his child to worship idols, the youth to believe in one God, and himself and other full-grown men to adore the "resultant of all the forces capable of voluntarily contributing to the perfectioning of the universe, _not forgetting his worthy friends, the animals_." To such darkness are men justly condemned who shut their eyes against the light of God's revelation. Where there is no vision the people perish intellectually. He who turns away his ears from the truth must be turned unto fables. "Hear ye and give ear, be not proud, for the Lord hath spoken. Give glory to the Lord your God before he cause darkness, and before your feet stumble upon the dark mountains, and while ye look for light, he turn it into the shadow of death, and make it gross darkness." _Without a revelation from God, the mind of man can attain to no certainty regarding the most important of all his interests, the destiny of his immortal soul._ He knows well--for every sickness, and sorrow, and calamity declares it, and quick returning troubles will not allow him to forget--that the Ruler of the world is offended with him; and conscience tells him why. The sense of guilt is common to the human race. This is, indeed, "the inspiration which knows no sect, no country, no religion, no age; which is as wide as humanity." Reason asks herself, Will God be always thus angry with me? Shall I always feel these pangs of remorse for my sins? Will misery follow me forever, as I see and feel that it does here? Or shall my soul exist under God's frowns, or perish under his just sentence, even as my body perishes? Does the grave hide forever all that I loved? Have they ceased to be? Shall we ever meet again? Or must I say, "Farewell, farewell! An eternal farewell!" And in a few days myself also cease to be? The only answer Reason gives is--solemn silence. The wisest of men could not tell. Who has not dropped a tear over the dying words of Socrates, "I am going out of the world, and you are to continue in it, but which of us has the better part is a secret to every one but God." Cicero contended for the immortality of the soul against the multitudes of philosophers who denied it in his day; yet, after recounting their various opinions, he is obliged to say, "Which of these is true, God alone knows; and which is most probable, a very great question."[54] And Seneca, on a review of this subject, says: "Immortality, however desirable, was rather promised than proved by these great men."[55] The multitude had but two ideas on the subject. Either their ghosts would wander eternally in the land of shadows, or else they would pass into a succession of other bodies, of animals or men. From the nakedness and desolation of unclothed spirit, and the possibility which this notion held out of some close contact with a holy and just judge, the soul shrank back to the hope of the metempsychosis, and hoped rather to dwell in the body of a brute, than be utterly unclothed and mingle with spirits. This is the delusion cherished by the people of India and many other lands to this day. How unsatisfactory to the dying sinner this uncertainty. "Tell me," said a wealthy Hindoo, who had given all his wealth to the Brahmins who surrounded his dying bed, that they might obtain pardon for his sins, "Tell me what will become of my soul when I die?" "Your soul will go into the body of a holy cow." "And after that?" "It will pass into the body of the divine peacock." "And after that?" "It will pass into a flower." "Tell me, oh! tell me," cried the dying man, "where will it go last of all?" Where will it go last of all? Aye, that is the question Reason can not answer. The rejectors of the Bible here are as uncertain on this all-important subject as the heathen of India. They have every variety of oracles, and conjectures, and suppositions about the other world; but for their guesses they offer no proof. When they give us their oracles as if they were known truths, we are compelled to ask, How do you know? The only thing in which they are agreed among themselves is in denying the resurrection of the body; a point which they gathered from their heathen classics. A poor, empty, naked, shivering, table-rapping spirit, obliged to fly over the world at the sigh of any silly sewing girl, or the bidding of some brazen-faced strumpet, is all that ever shall exist of Washington, or Newton, in the scheme of one class of Bible rejectors. To obtain rest from such a doom, others fly to the eternal tomb, and inform us that the soul is simply an acting of the brain, and when the brain ceases to act, the soul ceases also. Let us eat and drink, for to-morrow we die. But even this hog philosophy is reasonable, compared with the dogma of the large majority, that a man may blaspheme, swear, lie, steal, murder, and commit adultery, and go straight to heaven--that "many a swarthy Indian who bowed down to wood and stone--many a grim-faced Calmuck who worshiped the great god of storms--many a Grecian peasant who did homage to Phoebus Apollo when the sun rose or went down--many a savage, his hands smeared all over with human sacrifice--shall sit down with Moses and Jesus in the kingdom of God."[56] To such wild unreason does the mind of man descend when it rejects the Bible. Life and immortality are brought to light by the gospel. Where there is no vision, hope perishes. The only plausible creed for him who rejects it is the eternal tomb, and the heart-chilling inscription: "Death is an eternal sleep!" _Without a revelation from God, men are as ignorant how to live, as how to die._ They have no rule of life having either truth or authority to direct them. Our Anglo-Saxon ancestors, of the purity of whose blood we are so proud, trusted to their magical incantations for the cure of diseases, for the success of their tillage, for the discovery of lost property, for uncharming cattle and the prevention of casualties. One day was useful for all things; another, though good to tame animals, was baleful to sow seed. One day was favorable to the commencement of business, another to let blood, and others wore a forbidding aspect to these and other things. On this day they were to buy, on a second to sell, on a third to hunt, on a fourth to do nothing. If a child was born on such a day, it would live; if on another, its life would be sickly; if on another, it would perish early.[57] Their descendants who reject the Bible are fully as superstitious. Astrologers, and Mediums, and Clairvoyants, in multitudes, find a profitable trade among them; and one prominent anti-Bible lecturer will cure you of any disease you have, if you will only inclose, in a letter, a lock of hair from the right temple, and--a--five dollar bill. The precepts of even the wisest men, and the laws of the best regulated States, commanded or approved of vice. In Babylon prostitution was compulsory on every female. The Carthaginian law required human sacrifices. When Agathoclas besieged Carthage, two hundred children, of the most noble families, were murdered by the command of the senate, and three hundred citizens voluntarily sacrificed themselves to Saturn.[58] The laws of Sparta required theft, and the murder of unhealthy children. Those of ancient Rome allowed parents the power of killing their children, if they pleased. At Athens, the capital of heathen literature and philosophy, it was enacted "that infants which appeared to be maimed should either be killed or exposed."[59] Plato, dissatisfied with the constitution, made a scheme of one much better, which he has left us in his Republic. In this great advance of society, this heathen millennium, we find that there was to be a community of women and of property, just as among our modern heathens. Women's rights were to be maintained by having the women trained to war. Children were still to be murdered, if convenience called for it. And the young children were to be led to battle at a safe distance, "that the young whelps might early scent carnage, and be inured to slaughter." The teachings of all these philosophers were immoral. He may lie, says Plato, who knows how to do it. Pride and the love of popular applause were esteemed the best motives to virtue. Profane swearing was commanded by the example of all their best writers and moralists. Oaths are frequent in the writings of Plato and Seneca. The gratification of the sensual appetites was openly taught. Aristippus taught that a wise man might steal and commit adultery when he could. Unnatural crimes were vindicated. The last dread crime--suicide--was pleaded for by Cicero and Seneca as the mark of a hero; and Demosthenes, Cato, Brutus, and Cassius, carried the means of self-destruction about them, that they might not fall alive into the hands of their enemies. The daily lives of these wisest of the heathen corresponded to their teachings, so far at least as vice was concerned. The most notorious vices, and even unnatural crimes, were practiced by them. The reader of the classics does not need to be reminded that such vices are lauded in the poems of Ovid, and Horace, and Virgil; that the poets were rewarded and honored for songs which would not be tolerated for a moment in the vilest theater of New York. Recently some daily papers and broad-church preachers have taken to the canonization of heathen saints; they denounce vigorously the bigotry of any who will not open to them the gates of heaven, or who will, in general, deny salvation to good heathens. But we do not deny salvation to good heathens, or to good Jews, or to good Mohammedans, or to anybody who is good. God is no respecter of persons; but in every nation, he that feareth God and worketh righteousness is accepted of him. Nor are we about to usurp Peter's keys, and lock anybody out of heaven, or into it either; we are only acting as jurymen upon the life and conduct of men held up to our children as noble examples of a good life, in their classics, by heathens like themselves, and recommended now by Christian clergymen, as fitter for the kingdom of God, than bad Christians; which last may be very true, and so much the worse for the bad Christians. But the question is not to be thus decided by comparisons, or by generalities; we must have specified individual heathen saints. When, however, we come to look for them, these saints and heroes prove to be only fit for the penitentiary, according to the laws of any of our States; and were they living now, and behaving themselves according to their accustomed habits, the best of them would be fortunate if they got there before they were tarred and feathered by an outraged public. Socrates, Seneca, and the Emperor Marcus Aurelius, form the stock specimens trotted out of the stables of heathen morality, for the admiration and reverence of Christians in this nineteenth century. But it has been well remarked of Socrates, that no American lady would live with him a year without applying for a divorce, and getting it, too, upon very sufficient grounds. Seneca, who wrote so beautifully upon morals, was an adulterer; and, moreover, prostituted his pen to write a defense of a man who murdered his mother. And Marcus Aurelius directed the murder of thousands of innocent men and women, causing young ladies to be stripped naked and torn to pieces by wild beasts, in the public amphitheater, and others to be roasted alive in red-hot iron chairs, for no other offense but that they avowed themselves Christians. Such are these boasted saints and heroes of heathendom. What, then, must the lives of the vulgar have been? In the very height of Roman civilization, Trajan caused ten thousand men to hew each other to pieces for the amusement of the Roman people; and noble ladies feasted their eyes on the spectacle. In the Augustan age, when the invincible armies of Rome gave law to half the world, fathers were in the habit of mutilating their sons rather than see them subjected to the slavery and terrible despotism of their officers. What, then, must the state of the people of the vanquished countries have been? Whole provinces were frequently given over to fire and sword by generals not reputed inhuman; and such was the progress of war and anarchy, and their never-failing accompaniments, famine and pestilence, that, in the reign of Gallienus, large cities were left utterly desolate, the public roads became unsafe from immense packs of wolves, _and it was computed that one-half of the human race perished_. This was just before the toleration of Christianity. God would allow the wisest and bravest of mankind to try the experiment of neglecting his gospel and living without his revelation, until all mankind might be convinced that such a course is suicidal to nations. "Where there is no vision, the people perish." A brief reference to the codes of morals which the modern opposers of the Bible would substitute for it in Christian lands shall conclude our proof of the necessity of such a revelation of God's law to man, as shall guide his life to peace and happiness. The family is the basis of the commonwealth. Destroy family confidence and family government, and you destroy society, subvert civil government, and bring destruction on the human race. Mankind are so generally agreed on this subject, that adultery, even among heathens, is regarded and punished as a crime. The whole school of Infidel writers and anti-Bible lecturers, male and female, apologize for, and vindicate this crime. Lord Herbert, the first of the English Deists, taught that the indulgence of lust and anger is no more to be blamed than the thirst occasioned by the dropsy, or the drowsiness produced by lethargy. Mr. Hobbes asserted that every man has a right to all things, and may lawfully get them if he can. Bolingbroke taught that man is merely a superior animal, which is just the modern development theory, and that his chief end is to gratify the appetites and inclinations of the flesh. Hume, whose argument against miracles is so frequently in the mouths of American Infidels, taught that adultery must be practiced, if men would obtain all the advantages of life, and that if practiced frequently, it would by degrees come to be thought no crime at all--a prediction as true as Holy Writ; the fulfillment of which hundreds of the citizens of Cincinnati can attest, who have heard a lecturer publicly denounce the Bible as an immoral book, and in the same address declare that if a woman was married to a man, in her opinion of inferior development, it was her duty to leave him and live with another. This duty is by no means neglected, as the numerous divorces, spiritual marriages, separations, and elopements among this class of persons, testify. Voltaire held that it was not agreeable to policy to regard it as a vice in a moral sense. Rousseau, a liar, a thief, and a debauched profligate, according to his own printed "Confessions," held the same high opinion of the inner light as our American Spiritualists. "_I have only to consult myself_," said he, "_concerning what I do. All that I feel to be right, is right._"[60] In fact, the purport of this inner light doctrine is exactly as Rousseau expressed it, and amounts simply to this, _Do what you like._ On this lawless principle these men acted. Take, for example, the chief saint on the calendar of American Infidelity, whose birthday is annually celebrated by a festival in this city, and in whose honor hundreds of men, who would like to be reputed decent citizens, parade the streets of Cincinnati in solemn procession--Thomas Paine--the author of "The Age of Reason," as his character is depicted by one who was his helper in the work of blaspheming God and seducing men, and whose testimony, therefore, in the eyes of an Infidel, is unimpeachable--William Carver. "MR. THOMAS PAINE: I received your letter, dated the 25th ult., in answer to mine, dated November 21, and after minutely examining its contents, I found that you had taken to the pitiful subterfuge of _lying_ for your defense. You say that you paid me four dollars per week for your board and lodging, during the time you were with me, prior to the first of June last; which was the day that I went up, by your order, to bring you to York, from New Rochelle. It is fortunate for me that I have a living evidence that saw you give me five guineas, and no more, in my shop, at your departure at that time; but you said you would have given me more, but that you had no more with you at present. You say, also, that you found your own liquors during the time you boarded with me; but you should have said, 'I found only a small part of the liquor I drank during my stay with you; this part I purchased of John Fellows, which was a demi-john of brandy, containing four gallons,' and this did not serve you three weeks. This can be proved, and I mean not to say anything I can not prove, for I hold truth as a precious jewel. It is a well-known fact that you drank one quart of brandy per day, at my expense, during the different times you boarded with me; the demi-john above mentioned excepted, and the last fourteen weeks you were sick. Is not this a supply of liquor for dinner and supper." * * * "I have often wondered that a French woman and three children should leave France and all their connections, to follow Thomas Paine to America. Suppose I were to go to my native country, England, and take another man's wife and three children of his, and leave my wife and children in this country, what would be the natural conclusion in the minds of the people, but that there was some criminal connection between the woman and myself?"[61] The death of this man was horrible. The Philadelphia _Presbyterian_ says: "There is now in Philadelphia a lady who saw Paine on his dying-bed. She informs us that Paine's physician also attended her father's family in the city of New York, where in her youth she resided, and that on one occasion whilst at their house, he proposed to her to accompany him to the Infidel's dwelling, which she did. It was a miserable hovel in what was then Raisin Street. She had often seen Paine before, a drunken profligate, wandering about the streets, from whom the children always fled in terror. On entering his room she found him stretched on his miserable bed. His visage was lean and haggard, and wore the expression of great agony. He expressed himself without reserve as to his fears of death, and repeatedly called on the name of Jesus, begging for mercy. The scene was appalling, and so deeply engraven on her mind, that nothing could obliterate it."--_Philadelphia Presbyterian_, March 17, 1857. The physician's statement has been common, many years, and corresponds with the above. So do Grant Thorburn's representations agree with both. And the piece published by Rev. Jas. Inglis in his "Waymarks in the Wilderness," which has proved so distasteful to the Paineites here, substantially agrees with all the others. It is only the truthfulness of it which is so offensive. It may be of interest to state, that the facts therein named are the recollections of old Dr. McClay, a Baptist minister of known power and veracity. The fact of Paine's miserable, and cowardly, and man-forsaken end is too true. Let no one be foolhardy enough to follow them, rejecting to do it, a fourfold cord of strong testimony; nay, we may add, a stronger cord of fivefold testimony, as Paine's nurse testifies like the rest. In the East these facts are so notorious that even Infidels disown allegiance or attachment to Paine, if they wish to be considered respectable. Some of the severest denunciations against him, which we ever heard, have been from Infidels. Indeed this is more than plain from the very fact of all the Infidels having forsaken Paine on his death-bed. Who was his doctor? A Christian. Who was his nurse? A Christian? Who were his most constant visitors and sympathizers? Thorburn, McClay, etc., Christians. They went, for mercy's sake; Infidels, having no "bowels of mercies," kept away. Carver, Jefferson, etc., were far from him in his extreme hour. The testimony of Mons. Tronchin, a Protestant physician from Geneva, who attended Voltaire on his death-bed, was: That to see all the furies of Orestes, one only had to be present at the death of Voltaire. ("_Pour voir toutes les furies d'Oreste, il n'y avait qu'a se trouver a la mort de Voltaire._") "Such a spectacle," he adds, "would benefit the young, who are in danger of losing the precious helps of religion." The Marechal de Richelieu, too, was so terrified at what he saw that he left the bedside of Voltaire, declaring that "the sight was too horrible for endurance."[62] And these are the saints, and apostles, and heroes of Infidelity, to whose memories Infidels make orations and festivals, and whose writings are reprinted in scores of editions, not only over Christendom, but even in India, to teach mankind how to live and how to die! Such are the lives and deaths of those who denounce the Bible as an immoral Book, and blaspheme the God of the Bible as too unholy to be reverenced or adored! "But, beloved, remember ye the words which were spoken before of the apostles of our Lord Jesus Christ; how that they told you there should be mockers in the last time, who should walk after their own ungodly lusts. These be they who separate themselves, sensual, having not the Spirit." In the Free Love Institute about to be established in our vicinity, we shall have the full development of these filthy principles and practices. Let fathers and husbands look to this matter. Especially let ungodly men set to work and devise some law of man capable of binding those who renounce the law of God, and with it all human authority. For there can be no law of man, unless there is a revealed law of God. "What right," says the Pantheist, the Fourierist, the Spiritualist, the Atheist, "what right have you to command me? Right and wrong are only matters of feeling, and your feelings are no rule to me. The will of the majority is only the law of might, and if I can evade it, or overcome it, my will is as good as theirs. Oaths are only an idle superstition; there is no judge, no judgment, no punishment for the false swearer." Take away the moral sanction of law, and the sacredness of oaths, and what basis have you left for any government, save the point of the bayonet? Take away the revealed law of God, and you leave not a vestige of any authority to any human law. "We hold these truths to be self-evident," said the immortal framers of the basis of the American Confederation, "that all men are created equal; that they are _endowed by their Creator_ with certain unalienable rights." It was well said. The rights of God are the only basis of the rights of man. One of the most sagacious of modern statesmen has borne his testimony to this fundamental truth--that religion is the only basis of social order--in words as trenchant as the guillotine which suggested them. "It is not," says Napoleon, "the mystery of incarnation which I perceive in religion, but the mystery of social order. It attaches to heaven an idea of equality which prevents the rich from being massacred by the poor."[63] Once in modern times, the rejectors of the Bible had opportunity to try the experiment of ruling a people on a large scale, and giving the world a specimen of an Infidel Republic. You have heard one of them here express his admiration of that government, and declare his intention to present a public vindication of it. Of course, as soon as practicable, that which they admire they will imitate, and the scenes of Paris and Lyons will be re-enacted in Louisville and Cincinnati. Our Bibles will be collected and burned on a dung-heap. Death will be declared an eternal sleep. God will be declared a fiction. Religious worship will be renounced; the Sabbath abolished; and a prostitute, crowned with garlands, will receive the adorations of the mayors and councilmen of Cincinnati and Newport. The reign of terror will commence. The guillotine shall take its place on the Fifth Street Market place. Proscription will follow proscription. Women will denounce their husbands, and children their parents, as bad citizens, and lead them to the ax; and well-dressed ladies, filled with savage ferocity, will seize the mangled bodies of their murdered countrymen between their teeth. The Licking will be choked with the bodies of men, and the Ohio dyed with their blood; and those whose infancy has sheltered them from the fire of the rabble soldiery will be bayoneted as they cling to the knees of their destroyers.[64] The common doom of man commuted for the violence of the sword, the bayonet, the sucking boat, and the guillotine, the knell of the nation tolled, and the world summoned to its execution and funeral, will need no preacher to expound the text, _Where there is no vision, the people perish._ FOOTNOTES: [38] Strauss' Life of Jesus, 64, 74, 87. [39] Bauer's Hebrew Mythology. [40] See Pearson on Infidelity, page 93, 40th edition; and Agassiz's Penikese lectures. [41] Newman's Phases of Faith, 157. [42] Carlyle's Past and Present, 307. [43] Discourse on Religion, p. 209. [44] Carlyle's Past and Present, p. 312. [45] Ib. p. 37. [46] The Soul, p. 342. [47] Ib. p. 359. [48] Parker's Discourses, 171, 33. [49] Plato. Republic. Books IV. and VI., and Alcibiades II. [50] Manners and Customs of Ancient Egyptians, Second Series, Vol. II. page 176, et passim. [51] Juvenal, Satire XV. [52] Diodorus Siculus, Book I. [53] Duff's India, page 222. [54] Tusc. Quæst. lib. 1. [55] Seneca, Ep. 102. [56] Parker's Discourse, 83. [57] Turner's Anglo-Saxons, b. vii. chap. 13. [58] Diodorus Siculus, b. xx. chap. 14. [59] Aristotle, Polit. lib. vii. chap. 17. [60] Horne's Introduction of the Scriptures, Vol. I. page 25. [61] Printed repeatedly in New York newspapers, and given entire in the report of the discussion between Dr. Berg and Mr. Barker. W. S. Young, Philadelphia, 1854. [62] _The Occident_, 20th August, 1874, San Francisco. [63] Ardeches' Life of Napoleon I. 222. [64] Horne's Introduction to the Scriptures, Vol. I. page 26, where ample references to contemporary French writers are given. CHAPTER V. WHO WROTE THE NEW TESTAMENT? "The salutation of Paul with mine own hand, which is the token in every epistle: so I write. The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ be with you all. Amen."--2 Thess. iii. 17. Religion rests not on dogmas, but on a number of great facts. In a previous chapter we found one of these to be, that people destitute of a revelation of God's will ever have been, and now are, ignorant, miserable, and wicked. If it were at all needful, we might go on to show that there are people in the world, who have decent clothing and comfortable houses, who work well-tilled farms and sub-soil plows, and reaping machinery, who yoke powerful streams to the mill wheel, and harness the iron horse to the market wagon, who career their floating palaces up the opposing floods, line their coasts with flocks of white-winged schooners, and show their flags on every coast of earth, who invent and make everything that man will buy, from the brass button, dear to the barbarian, to the folio of the philosopher, erect churches in all their towns, and schools in every village, who make their blacksmiths more learned than the priests of Egypt, their Sabbath scholars wiser than the philosophers of Greece, and even the criminals in their jails more decent characters than the sages, heroes, and gods of the lands without the Bible; and that these people are the people who possess a Book, which they think contains a revelation from God, teaching them how to live well; which Book they call the Bible. This is the book about which we make our present inquiry, Who wrote it? The fact being utterly undeniable, that these blessings are found among the people who possess the Bible, and only among them, we at once, and summarily, dismiss the arrogant falsehood presented to prevent any inquiry about the Book, namely, that "Christianity is just like any other superstition, and its sacred books like the impositions of Chinese, Indian, or Mohammedan impostors. They, too, are religious, and have their sacred books, which they believe to be divine." A profound generalization indeed! Is a peach-tree just like a horse-chestnut, or a scrub-oak, or a honey-locust? They are all trees, and have leaves on them. The Bible is just as like the Yi King, or the Vedas, or the Koran, as a Christian American is like a Chinaman, a Turk, or a Hindoo. But it is too absurd to begin any discussion with these learned Thebans of the relative merits of the Bible as compared with the Vedas, and the Chinese Classics, of which they have never read a single page. Let them stick to what they pretend to know. The Bible is a great fact in the world's history, known alike to the prince and the peasant, the simple and the sage. It is perused with pleasure by the child, and pondered with patience by the philosopher. Its psalms are caroled on the school green, cheer the chamber of sickness, and are chanted by the mother over her cradle, by the orphan over the tomb. Here, thousands of miles away from the land of its birth, in a world undiscovered for centuries after it was finished, in a language unknown alike at Athens and Jerusalem, it rules as lovingly and as powerfully as in its native soil. To show that its power is not derived from race or clime, it converts the Sandwich Islands into a civilized nation, and transforms the New Zealand cannibal into a British shipowner, the Indian warrior into an American editor, and the Negro slave into the President of a free African Republic. It has inspired the Caffirs of Africa to build telegraphs, and to print associated press dispatches in their newspapers; while the Zulus, one of whom would have converted Bishop Colenso from Christianity, if he had been a Christian, are importing steel plows by hundreds every year. It has captured the enemy's fortresses, and turned his guns. Lord Chesterfield's parlor, where an infidel club met to sneer at religion, is now a vestry, where the prayers of the penitent are offered to Christ. Gibbon's house, at Lake Lemon, is now a hotel; one room of which is devoted to the sale of Bibles. Voltaire's printing press, from which he issued his infidel tracts, has been appropriated to printing the Word of God.[65] It does not look as if it had finished its course and ceased from its triumphs. Translated into the hundred and fifty languages spoken by nine hundred millions of men, carried by ten thousand heralds to every corner of the globe, sustained by the cheerful contributions and fervent prayers of hundreds of thousands of ardent disciples, it is still going forth conquering and to conquer. Is there any other book so generally read, so greatly loved, so zealously propagated, so widely diffused, so uniform in its results, and so powerful and blessed in its influences? Do you know any? If you can not name any book, no, nor any thousand books, which in these respects equal the Bible--then it stands out clear and distinct, and separate from all other authorship; and with an increased emphasis comes our question, Who wrote it? With all these palpable facts in view, to come to the examination of this question as if we knew nothing about them, or as if knowing them well, we cared nothing at all about them, and were determined to deny them their natural influence in begetting within us a very strong presumption in favor of its divine origin, were to declare that our heads and hearts were alike closed against light and love. But to enter on this inquiry into the origin of the Book which has produced such results, with a preconceived opinion that it must be a forgery, and an imposition, the fruit of a depraved heart, and a lying tongue, implies so much home-born deceit that, till the heart capable of such a prejudice be completely changed, no reasoning can have any solid fulcrum of truth or goodness to rest on. It is sheer folly to talk of one's being wholly unprejudiced in such an inquiry. No man ever was, or could be so. As his sympathies are toward goodness and virtue, and the happiness of mankind, or toward pride and deceit, and selfishness and savageness, so will his prejudices be for or against the Bible. On looking at the Bible, we find it composed of a number of separate treatises, written by different writers, at various times; some parts fifteen hundred years before the others. We find, also, that it treats of the very beginning of the world, before man was made, and of other matters of which we have no other authentic history to compare with it. Again, we find portions which treat of events connected in a thousand places with the affairs of the Roman Empire, of which we have several credible histories. Now, there are two modes of investigation open to us, the dogmatic and the inductive. We may take either. We may construct for ourselves, from the most flimsy suppositions, a metaphysical balloon, inflated with self-conceit into the rotundity of a cosmogony, according to which, in our opinion, the world should have been made, and we may paint it over with the figures of the various animals and noble savages which ought to have sprung up out of its fornea, and we may stripe its history to suit our notions of the progress of such a world, and soaring high into the clouds, after a little preliminary amusement in the discovery of eternal red-hot fire-mists, and condensing comets, and so forth, we may come down upon the summit of some of this earth's mountains, say Ararat, and take a survey of the Bible process of world-making. Finding that the Creator of the world had to make his materials--a business in which no other world-maker ever did engage--and, further, that God's plan of making it by no means corresponds to our patent process and that the article is not at all like what we intend to produce when we go into the business, and that it does not work according to our expectations, we can denounce the whole as a very mean affair, and the Book which describes it as not worth reading. If one wants some new subject for merriment, and does not mind making a fool of himself, and is not to be terrified by old-fashioned notions about God Almighty, and is perfectly confident that God can tell him nothing that he does not know better already, and merely wants to see whether he is not trying to pass off old fables upon wide-awake people for facts--this dogmatic plan will suit him. On the other hand, if one is tolerably convinced that he does not know everything, not much of the world he lives in, less of its history, and nothing at all about the best way of making it, and that when it needs mending it will not be sent to his workshop; that he knows nothing about what happened before he was born unless what other people tell him, and that, though men do err, yet all men are not liars, that all the blessings of education, civilization, law and liberty, from the penny primer to the Constitution of the United States, came to him solely through the channel of abundant, reliable testimony; that the only way in which he can ever know anything beyond his eyesight with certainty, is to gather testimony about it, and compare the evidence, and inquire into the character of the witnesses; that when one has done so, he becomes so satisfied of the truth of the report that he would rather risk his life upon it than upon the certainty of any mathematical problem, or of any scientific truth, whatever--that ninety-nine out of every hundred citizens of the United States are a thousand times more certain that the Yankees whipped the British in 1776, declared the Colonies free and independent States, and made Washington President, than they ever will be that all bodies attract each other directly as their mass, and inversely as the squares of their distances, that the sum of the angles of any triangle is equal to two right angles, or that the earth is nearer the sun in winter than in summer--and that certainty about the Bible history is just as attainable, and just as reliable, as certainty about American history, if he will seek it in the same way--and if he is really desirous to know how this Book was written, which alone in the world teaches men how to obtain peace with God, how to live well, and how to die with a firm and joyful hope of a resurrection to life eternal, and what part of it is easiest to prove either true or false--then he will take the inductive mode. He will begin at the present time, and trace the history up to the times in which the Book was written. He will ascertain what he can about that part of it which was last written--the New Testament--and begin with that part of it which lies nearest him--the Epistles. By the comparison of the documents themselves, with all kinds of history and monuments which throw light on the period, he will try to ascertain whether they are genuine or not. And from one well-ascertained position he will proceed to another, until he has traversed the whole ground of the genuineness of the writings, the truth of the story, and the divine authority of the doctrine. This is my plan of investigation; one thing at a time, and the nearest first. It is not worth while to inquire whether it be inspired by God, if it be really a forgery of impostors; nor whether the gospel story is worthy of credit, if the only book which contains it be a religious novel of the third or fourth century. We dismiss then the questions of the inspiration, or even the truth of the New Testament, till we have ascertained its authors. We take up the Book, and find that it purports to be a relation of the planting of the Church of Christ, of its laws and ordinances, and of the life, death and resurrection of its Founder, written by eight of his companions, at various periods and places, toward the close of the first century. There is a general opinion among all Christians that the Book was composed then, and by these persons. We want to know why they think so? In short, is it a genuine book, or merely a collection of myths with the apostles' names appended to them by some lying monks? Is it a fact, or a forgery? In any historical inquiry, we want some fixed point of time from which to take our departure; and in this case we want to know if there is any period of antiquity in which undeniably this Book was in existence, and received as genuine by Christian societies. For I will not suppose my readers as ignorant as some of those Infidels who allege that it was made by the Bible Society. It used to be the fashion with those of them who pretended to learning, to affirm that it was made by the Council of Laodicea, in A. D. 364; because, in order to guard the churches against spurious epistles and gospels, that Council published a list of those which the apostles did actually write, which thenceforth were generally bound in one volume. Before that time, the four Gospels were always bound in one volume and called "The Gospel." The Acts of the Apostles and the Epistles universally and undoubtedly known to be written by Paul, to the churches of Thessalonica, Galatia, Rome, Corinth, Ephesus, Philippi, Colosse, and to Philemon, a well-known resident of that city, and those to Timothy and Titus, missionaries of world-wide celebrity, the First General Epistle of Peter, and the First General Epistle of John, which were at once widely circulated to check prevailing heresies--were bound in another volume and called "The Apostle." The Epistle to the Hebrews, being general, and anonymous, _i. e._, not bearing the name of any particular church, or person, to whom anybody who merely looked at it could refer for proof of its genuineness, as in the case of the other Epistles--was not so soon known by the European churches to be written by Paul. The General Epistles of James, Jude, and the Second General Epistle of Peter, lying under the same difficulty, and besides being very disagreeable to easy-going Christians, from their sharp rebukes of hypocrisy, and the Second and Third Epistles of John, from their brevity, and the Revelation of John, being one of the last written of all the books of the New Testament, and the most mysterious--were not so generally known beyond the churches where the originals were deposited, until the other two collections had been formed. They were accordingly kept as separate books, and sometimes bound up in a third volume of apostolical writings. Besides these, at the time of the Council of Laodicea, and for a long time before, other books, written by Barnabas, Clement, Polycarp, and other companions and disciples of the apostles, and forged gospels and epistles attributed by heretics to the apostles, were circulated through the churches, and read by Christians. The Council of Laodicea did, what many learned men had done before them; it investigated the evidence upon which any of these books was attributed to an apostle; and finding evidence to satisfy them, that the Gospel written by Luke had the sanction of the Apostle Paul, that the Gospel of Mark was revised by the Apostle Peter, that the Epistle to the Hebrews was written by Paul, and the other Epistles by John, Jude, James, and Peter, respectively, and not finding evidence to satisfy them about the Revelation of John, they expressed their opinion, and the grounds of it, for the information of the world.[66] Into these reasons we will hereafter inquire, for our faith in Holy Scripture does not rest on their canons. We are not now asking what they _thought_, but what they _did_; and we find that they did criticise certain books, reported to be written by the apostles of Jesus Christ some three hundred years before, approve some, and reject others as spurious, and publish a list of those they thought genuine. Infidels admit this, and on the strength of it long asserted that the Council of Laodicea made the New Testament. At length they became ashamed of the stupid absurdity of alleging that men could criticise the claims, and catalogue the names of books before they were written; and they now shift back the writing--or the authentication of the New Testament--for they are not quite sure which, though the majority incline to the former--to the Emperor Constantine, and the Council of Nice which met in the year 325. Why they have fixed on the Council of Nice is more than I can tell. They might as well say the Council of Trent, or the Westminster Assembly, either of which had just as much to do with the Canon of Scripture. However, on some vague hearsay that the Council of Nice and the Emperor Constantine made the Bible, hundreds in this city are now risking the salvation of their souls. We have in this assertion, nevertheless, as many facts admitted as will serve our present purpose. There did exist, then, undeniably, in the year 325, large numbers of Christian churches in the Roman Empire, sufficiently numerous to make it politic, in the opinion of Infidels, for a candidate for the empire to profess Christianity; sufficiently powerful to secure his success, notwithstanding the desperate struggles of the heathen party; and sufficiently religious, or if you like superstitious, to make it politic for an emperor and his politicians to give up the senate, the court, the camp, the chase, and the theater, and weary themselves with long prayers, and longer speeches, of preachers about Bible religion. Now that is certainly a remarkable fact, and all the more remarkable if we inquire, How came it so? For these men, preachers, prince, and people, were brought up to worship Jupiter and the thirty thousand gods of Olympus, after the heathen fashion, and to leave the care of religion to heathen priests, who never troubled their heads about books or doctrines after they had offered their sacrifices. In all the records of the world there is no instance of a general council of heathen priests to settle the religion of their people. How happens it then that the human race has of a sudden waked up to such a strange sense of the folly of idolatry and the value of religion? The Council of Nice, and the Emperor Constantine, and his counselors, making a Bible is a proof of a wonderful revolution in the world's religion; a phenomenon far more surprising than if the Secretaries of State, and the Senate, and President Grant should leave the Capital to post off to London, to attend the meetings of a Methodist Conference, assembled to make a hymn book. Now what is the cause of this remarkable conversion of prince, priests, and people? How did they all get religion? How did they get it so suddenly? How did they get so much of it? The Infidel gives no answer, except to tell us[67] that the austerity, purity, and zeal of the first Christians, their good discipline, their belief in the resurrection of the body and the general judgment, and their persuasion that Christ and his apostles wrought miracles, had made a great many converts. This is just as if I inquired how a great fire originated, and you should tell me that it burned fast because it was very hot. What I want to know is, how it happened that these licentious Greeks, and Romans, and Asiatics, became austere and pure; how these frivolous philosophers suddenly became so zealous about religion; what implanted the belief of the resurrection of the body and of the judgment to come in the skeptical minds of these heathen scoffers; and how did the pagans of Italy, Egypt, Spain, Germany, Britain, come to believe in the miracles of one who lived hundreds of years before, and thousands of miles away, or to care a straw whether the written accounts of them were true or false? According to the Infidel account, the Council of Nice, and the Emperor Constantine's Bible-making, is a most extraordinary business--a phenomenon without any natural cause, and they will allow no supernatural--a greater miracle than any recorded in the Bible. If we inquire, however, of the parties attending that Council, what the state of the case is, we shall learn that they believed--whether truly or erroneously we are not now inquiring--but they believed, that a teacher sent from God, had appeared in Palestine two hundred and ninety years before, and had taught this religion which they had embraced; had performed wonderful miracles, such as opening the eyes of the blind, healing lepers, and raising the dead; that he had been put to death by the Roman Governor, Pontius Pilate, had risen again from the dead, had spoken to hundreds of people, and had gone out and in among them for six weeks after his resurrection; that he had ascended up through the air, to heaven, in the sight of numbers of witnesses, and had promised that he would come again in the clouds of heaven, to raise the dead, and to judge every man according to his works; that before he went away he appointed twelve of his intimate companions to teach his religion to the world, giving them power to work miracles in proof of their divine commission, and requiring mankind to hear them as they would hear him; that they and their followers did so, in spite of persecutions, sufferings, and death, with so much success, that immense numbers were persuaded to give up idolatry and its filthiness, and to profess Christianity and its holiness, and to brave the fury of the heathen mob, and the vengeance of the Roman law; that a difference of opinion having arisen among them as to whether this teacher was an angel from heaven, or God, whether they should pray and sing psalms to Him, as Athanasius and his party believed, or only give Him some lesser honor as Arius and his party believed, and this difference making all the difference between idolatry on the one hand, and impiety on the other, and so involving their everlasting salvation or damnation, they had embraced the first opportunity after the cessation of persecution, and the accession of the first Christian Emperor, to assemble three hundred and eighteen of their most learned clergymen, of both sides, and from all countries between Spain and Persia, to discuss these solemn questions; and that, through the whole of the discussions, both sides appealed to the writings of the apostles, as being then well known, and of unquestioned authority with every one who held the Christian name. These facts, being utterly indisputable, are acknowledged by all persons, Infidel or Christian, at all acquainted with history.[68] Here, then, we have the books of the New Testament at the Council of Nice well known to the whole world; and the Council, so far from _giving_ any authority to them, _bowing to theirs_--both Arian and Orthodox with one consent acknowledging that the whole Christian world received them as the writings of the apostles of Christ. There were venerable men of fourscore and ten at that Council; if these books had been first introduced in their lifetime, they must have known it. There were men there whose parents had heard the Scriptures read in church from their childhood, and so could not be imposed upon with a new Bible. The New Testament could not be less than three generations old, else one or other of the disputants would have exposed the novelty of its introduction, from his own information. The Council of Nice, then, did not make the New Testament. It was a book well known, ancient, and of undoubted authority among all Christians, ages before that Council. _The existence of the New Testament Scriptures, then, ages before the Council of Nice, is a great fact._ We next take up the assertions, propounded with a show of learning, that the books of the New Testament, and especially the Gospels, were not in use, and were not known till the third century; that they are not the productions of contemporary writers; that the alleged ocular testimony or proximity in point of time of the sacred historians to the events recorded is mere assumption, originating in the titles which Biblical books bear in our canon; that we stand here (in the gospel history), upon purely mythical and poetical ground; and that the Gospels and Epistles are a gradually formed collection of myths, having little or no historic reality. So Strauss, Eichorn, De Wette, and their disciples here, attempt to set aside the New Testament. In plain English, it is a collection of forgeries. These assertions are absurd. In the hundred years between the death of the apostles, and the beginning of the third century, there was not time to form a mythology. The times of Trajan's persecution, and that of the philosophic Aurelius, and the busy bustling age of Severus, were not the times for such a business. Bigoted Jews would not, and could not, have made such a character as Jesus of Nazareth; and the philosophers of that day, Celsus and Porphyry, for instance, hated it when presented to them as heartily as either Strauss or Paine. There were not wanting thousands of enemies, able and willing, to expose such a forgery. The aspect and character of the gospel narrative are totally unlike those of mythologies. Hear the verdict of one who confessedly stands at the head of the roll of oriental historians: "In no single respect--if we except the fact that it is miraculous--has that story a mythical character. It is a single story, told without variations; whereas myths are fluctuating and multiform: it is blended inextricably with the civil history of the times, which it everywhere reports with extraordinary accuracy; whereas myths distort or supersede civil history: it is full of prosaic detail, which myths studiously eschew: it abounds with practical instruction of the simplest and purest kind; whereas myths teach by allegory. Even in its miraculous element it stands to some extent in contrast with all mythologies, where the marvelous has ever a predominant character of grotesqueness which is absent from New Testament miracles. (This Strauss himself admits, _Leben Jesu_, 1-67.) Simple earnestness, fidelity, painstaking accuracy, pure love of truth, are the most patent characteristics of the New Testament writers, who evidently deal with facts, not with fancies, and are employed in relating a history, not in developing an idea. They write that 'we may know the certainty of the things which are most surely believed' in their day. They 'bear record of what they have seen and heard.' I know not how stronger words could have been used to prevent the notion of that plastic, growing myth which Strauss conceives to have been in apostolic times."[69] The character of Christ exhibited in the Gospels is the contrary of that of the heroes of mythology; as contrary as holiness is to sin. The invention of such a character by any man, or by the wisest set of men who ever lived, would have been a miracle nearly as great as the existence of such a person. When the character of Christ was presented to the wisest men of the Greeks, and Romans, and Hebrews, so far from admiring him as a hero, they crucified him as an impostor, and persecuted the preachers of his gospel. There was nothing mythical in the ten persecutions; these at least were hard historical facts. Every line of examination of time, place, and circumstances proves the falsehood of the mythical theory, and establishes the truth of the gospel history. The authenticity of the gospel history, and of the Apostolic Epistles is confirmed by the testimony of their enemies. It is a well-authenticated and undeniable fact, that, in the close of the second century, Celsus, an Epicurean philosopher, wrote a work against Christianity, entitled, "The Word of Truth," in which he quotes passages from the New Testament, and so many of them, that from the fragments of his work which remain, we could gather all the principal facts of the birth, teaching, miracles, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ, if the New Testament should be lost. If Paine quotes the New Testament to ridicule it, no man can deny that such a book was in existence at the time he wrote. If he takes the pains to write a book to confute it, it is self-evident that it is in circulation, and possessed of influence. So Celsus' attempt to reply to the Gospels, and his quotations from them, are conclusive proofs that these books were generally circulated and believed, and held to be of authority at the time he wrote. Further, he shows every disposition to present every argument which could possibly damage the Christian cause. In fact, our modern Infidels have done little more than serve up his old objections. Now nothing could have served his purpose better than to prove that the records of the history of Christ were forgeries of a late date. This would have saved him all further trouble, and settled the fate of Christianity conclusively. He had every opportunity of ascertaining the fact, living, as he did, so near the times and scenes of the gospel history, and surrounded by heretics and false Christians, who would gladly have given him every information. But he never once intimates the least suspicion of such a thing--never questions the Gospels as books of history--nor denies the miracles recorded in them, but attributes them to magic.[70] Here, then, we have testimony as acceptable to an Infidel as that of Strauss or Voltaire--in fact, utterly undeniable by any man of common sense--that the New Testament was well known and generally received by Christians as authoritative, when Celsus wrote his reply to it, in the end of the second century. If it was a forgery, it was undoubtedly a forgery of old standing, if he could not detect it. But we will go back a step farther, and prove the antiquity of the New Testament by the testimony of another enemy, two generations older than Celsus. The celebrated heretic, Marcion, lived in the beginning of the second century, when he had the best opportunity of discovering a forgery in the writings of the New Testament, if any such existed; he was excommunicated by the Church, and being greatly enraged thereat, had every disposition to say the worst he could about it. He traveled all the way from Sinope on the Black Sea, to Rome, and through Galatia, Bithynia, Asia Minor, Greece, and Italy, the countries where the apostles preached, and the churches to which they wrote, but never found any one to suggest the idea of a forgery to him. He affirmed that the Gospel of Matthew, the Epistle to the Hebrews, those of James and Peter, and the whole of the Old Testament, were books only for Jews, and published a new and altered edition of the Gospel of Luke, and ten Epistles of Paul, for the use of his sect.[71] We have thus the most undoubted evidence, even the testimony of an enemy, that these books were in existence, and generally received as apostolical and authoritative by Christians, at the beginning of the second century, or within twenty years of the last of the apostles, and by the churches to which they had preached and written. The only remaining conceivable cavil against the genuineness of the books of the New Testament is: "That they bear internal evidence of being collections of fragments written by different persons--and are probably merely traditions committed to writing by various unknown writers, and afterward collected and issued to the churches under the names of the apostles, for the sake of greater authority." This theory being received as gospel by several learned men, has furnished matter for lengthy discussions as to the sources of the four Gospels. Translated into English, it amounts to this, that Brown, Smith, and Jones wrote out a number of essays and anecdotes, and persuaded the churches of Ephesus, Jerusalem, Antioch, Corinth, and the rest, to receive them as the writings of their ministers, who had lived for years, or were then living, among them; and on the strength of that notion of their being the writings of the apostles, to govern their whole lives by these essays, and lay down their lives and peril their souls' salvation on the truth of these anecdotes. As though they could not tell whether such documents were forgeries or not! It is almost incredible how ignorant dreaming book-worms are of the common business of life. Most of my readers will laugh at the idea of a serious answer to such a quibble. Nevertheless, for the sake of those whose inexperience may be abused by the authority of learned names, I will show them that the primitive Christians, supposing them able to read, could know whether their ministers did really write the books and letters which they received from them. If you go into the Citizens' Bank, you will find a large folio volume lying on the counter, and on looking at it you will see that it is filled with men's names, in their own handwriting, and that no two of them are exactly alike. Every person who has any business to transact with the bank is requested to write his name in the book; and when his check comes afterward for payment, the clerk can tell at a glance if the signature is the same as that of which he has a single specimen. If there has been no opportunity for him to become personally acquainted with the bank, as in case of a foreigner newly arrived, he brings letters of introduction from some well-known mutual friend, or is accompanied by some respectable citizen, who attests his identity. Business men have no difficulty whatever in ascertaining the genuineness of documents. It is only when people want to dispute Holy Scripture that they give up common sense. Holy Scripture was known to be the genuine writing of the apostles, just in the same way as any other writing was known to be genuine; only the churches who received the writings of the apostles had ten thousand times better security against forgery than any bank in the Union. In one of the first letters Paul writes to the churches--the second letter to the Thessalonians--to whom he had been preaching only a few weeks before, sent from Athens, distant only some two days' journey, full of allusions to their affairs, commands how to conduct themselves in the business of their workshops, as well as in the devotions of the church, and explanations of some misunderstood parts of a former letter sent by the hand of a mutual friend--he formally gives them his signature, for the purpose of future reference, and comparison of any document which might purport to come from him, with that specimen of his autograph. He gives not the name merely, but his apostolic benediction also, in his own handwriting: _The salutation of me Paul with mine own hand, which is the token in every epistle: so I write. The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ be with you all. Amen._ It shows the heart of an apostle of Christ; but what concerns the present question is the remark, which every business man will in a moment appreciate, how immensely the addition of these two lines adds to the security against forgery. It is a very hard thing to forge a signature, but give a business man two lines of any man's writing besides that, and he is perfectly secure against imposition.[72] The churches to which the Epistles were written, and to which the Gospels were delivered, consisted largely of business men, of merchants and traders, tent makers and coppersmiths, city chamberlains, and officers of Cæsar's household, and the like. Does any one think such men could not tell the handwriting of their minister, who had lived among them for years; or that men who were risking their lives for the instructions he wrote them, would care less about the genuineness of the documents, than you do about the genuineness of a ten dollar check? I am not as long in this city as Paul was in Ephesus, nor one fourth of the time that John lived there, yet I defy all the advocates of the mythical theory of Germany, and all their disciples here, to write a myth half as long as this essay, and impose it on the elders and members of my church as my writing. Let it only be presented in manuscript to the congregation--there was no printing in Paul's days--and in five minutes a dozen members of the church will detect the forgery, even if I should hold my peace. And were I to leave on a mission to China or India, and write letters to the church, would any of these business men, who have seen my writing, have the least hesitation in recognizing it again? Do you think anybody could forge a letter as from me, and impose it on them? What an absurdity, then, to suppose that anybody could write a gospel or epistle, and get all the members of a large church to believe that an Apostle wrote it. The first Christians, then, were absolutely certain that the documents which they received as apostolic, were really so. The Church of Rome could attest the Epistle to them, and the Gospels of Mark and Luke written there. The Church of Ephesus could attest the Epistle to them, and the Gospel, and Letters, and Revelation of John written there. And so on of all the other churches; and these veritable autographs were long preserved. Says Tertullian, who was ordained A. D. 192: "Well, if you be willing to exercise your curiosity profitably in the business of your salvation, visit the apostolical churches in which the very chairs of the apostles still preside--in which their authentic letters themselves are recited (apud quæ _ipsæ authenticæ literæ_ eorum recitantur), sounding forth the voice and representing the countenance of each one of them. Is Achaia near you, you have Corinth. If you are not far from Macedonia, you have Philippi, you have Thessalonica. If you can go to Asia, you have Ephesus; but if you are near to Italy, you have Rome." There can not be the least doubt about the preservation of documents for a far longer time than from Paul to Tertullian--one hundred and fifty years. I hold in my hand a Bible, the family Bible of the Gibsons--printed in 1599--two hundred and fifty-seven years old, in perfect preservation; and we have manuscripts of the Scriptures twelve to fourteen hundred years old, like the Sinaitic Codex, perfectly legible. They were moreover directed to be publicly read in the churches, and they were publicly read every Lord's day. Is it credible that an impostor would direct his forgery to be publicly read? If the epistle was publicly read during Paul's lifetime, that public reading in the hearing of the men who could so easily disprove its genuineness, was conclusive proof to all who heard it, that they knew it to be the genuine writing of the Apostle. The primitive churches then had conclusive proof of the genuineness of the Apostolic Epistles and Gospels. The only difficulty which now remains is the objection that they might have been corrupted by alterations and interpolations by monks, in later times. We have two securities against such corruptions, in the way these documents were given, and the nature of their contents. They were sacred heirlooms, and they were public documents. Could you, or could any man, have permission to alter the original copy of Washington's Farewell Address? Would not the man who should attempt such sacrilege be torn in a thousand pieces? But Washington will never be an object of such veneration as John, nor will his Farewell Address ever compare in importance with Paul's Farewell Letter to the Philippians. Besides, these Gospels and Letters were public documents, containing the records of laws, in obedience to which men are daily crossing their inclinations, enduring the mockery of their neighbors, losing their money, and endangering their lives. They contained the proofs and promises of that religious faith in God and hope of heaven, for the sake of which they suffered such things. Is it credible that they would allow them to be altered and corrupted? You might far more rationally talk of altering the Declaration of Independence, or the Constitution of the United States. Translated into different languages--transported into Britain, Germany, France, Spain, Italy, Greece, Turkey, Carthage, Egypt, Parthia, Persia, India, and China--committed to memory by children, and quoted in the writings of Christian authors of the first three centuries, to such an extent, that we can gather the whole of the New Testament, except twenty-six verses, from their writings--appealed to as authority by heretics and orthodox in controversy--and publicly read in the hearing of tens of hundreds of thousands every Sabbath day in worship--we are a thousand times more certain that the New Testament has not been corrupted, than we are that the Declaration of Independence is genuine. On this ground then we plant ourselves. The whole story of a late and gradual formation of the New Testament, or, in plain English, of its forgery, stands out as an unmitigated falsehood in the eyes of every man capable of writing his own name. The first churches could not be deceived with forgeries for apostolic writings. Nor could they, if they would, allow these writings to be corrupted. Be they true or false, fact or fiction, the books of the New Testament are the words of the Apostles of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. In the next chapter we will inquire into the truth of their story. FOOTNOTES: [65] The Family Christian Almanac for 1859, p. 57, American Tract Society, New York. [66] Acta Concitia, sub voce Laodicea, Canon iv. Lardner vi. p. 368. [67] Gibbon's Decline and Fall, II. p. 267. [68] The original authorities may be found collected in the fourth volume of Lardner's Credibility of the Gospel History; abstracts of them, with ample references, in Mosheim and Neander's Ecclesiastical Histories, and in Stanley's Eastern Church. [69] Rawlinson's _Historical Evidences_, page 227. [70] Origen Contra Celsum, passim. [71] Lardner, Vol. IX. page 358. [72] In fact, some persons were trying to impose a letter, "as from us," containing declarations, that the day of Christ was upon them. CHAPTER VI. IS THE GOSPEL FACT OR FABLE? "For they themselves show of us what manner of entering in we had unto you, and how ye turned to God from idols, to serve the living and true God; and to wait for his Son from heaven, whom he raised from the dead, even Jesus, which delivered us from the wrath to come."--1 Thess. i. 9, 10. In the last chapter we ascertained that the Gospels and Epistles were not forgeries of some nameless monks of the third century--that the shopkeepers, silversmiths, tent-makers, coppersmiths, tanners, physicians, senators, town councilors, officers of customs, city treasurers, and nobles of Cæsar's household, in Rome, Antioch, Ephesus, Corinth, Athens, and Alexandria, could no more be imposed upon in the matter of documents, attested by the well-known signatures of their beloved ministers, than you could by forged letters or sermons purporting to come from your own pastor--and that the documents which they believed to contain the directory of their lives, and the charter of that salvation which they valued more than their lives, which they read in their churches, recited at their tables, quoted in their writings, appealed to in their controversies, translated into many languages, and dispersed into every part of the known world, they neither would, nor could, corrupt or falsify. The genuineness of the copies of the New Testament, which we now possess, is abundantly proved by the comparison of over two thousand manuscripts, from all parts of the world; scrutinized during a period of nearly a hundred years, by the most critical scholars, so accurately that the variations of such things as would correspond to the crossing of a t, or the dotting of an i, in English, have been carefully enumerated; yet the result of the whole of this searching scrutiny has been merely the suggestion of a score of unimportant alterations in the received text of the seven thousand nine hundred and fifty-nine verses of the New Testament. This is a fact utterly unexampled in the history of manuscripts. There are but six manuscripts of the Comedies of Terence, and these have not been copied once for every thousand times the New Testament has been transcribed, yet there are thirty thousand variations found in these six manuscripts, or an average of five thousand for each, and many of them seriously affect the sense. The average number of variations in the manuscripts of the New Testament examined, is not quite thirty for each, including all the trivialities already noticed. We are, then, by the special providence of God, now as undoubtedly in possession of genuine copies of the Gospels and Epistles, written by the companions of Jesus, as we are of genuine copies of the Constitution of the United States, and of the Declaration of Independence. These are historic documents, of well-established genuineness and antiquity, which we now proceed to examine as to their truthfulness. There is no history so trustworthy as that prepared by contemporary writers, especially by those who have themselves been actively engaged in the events which they relate. Such history never loses its interest, nor does the lapse of ages, in the least degree, impair its credibility. While the documents can be preserved, Xenophon's Retreat of the Ten Thousand, Cæsar's Gallic War, and the Dispatches of the Duke of Wellington, will be as trustworthy as on the day they were written. Yet some suspicion may arise in our minds, that these commanders and historians might have kept back some important events which would have dimmed their reputation with posterity, or might have colored those they have related, so as to add to their fame. Of the great facts related in memoirs addressed to their companions in arms, able at a glance to detect a falsehood, we never entertain the least suspicion. If, to this be added, the correspondence of monuments, architecture, painting, statuary, coins, heraldry, and a thousand changes in the manners and customs of a people, we become as absolutely convinced of the truth of the narrative thus confirmed by these silent witnesses as if we had seen the events described. No man who visits the disinterred city of Pompeii, and sees the pavements marked by the wheel ruts, has any doubt that the Romans used wheeled carriages. When he sees the court-yards adorned with mosaic figures, and the walls with paintings of the gods, and of the manners of the people who worshiped them, he is profoundly impressed with the conviction that they excelled in the fine arts, and in the coarse vices of heathenism. When he visits the Coliseum, that vast ruin declares that the wealth of an empire, once devoted to the gratification of the most savage passions, has been diverted into some other channel. When he visits the catacombs, and reads long lines of heathen epitaphs, with their despairing symbols of broken columns, extinguished torches, and their heart-breaking "Farewell! an eternal farewell!" and then turns to the monuments of only two centuries later, and reads, "He sleeps in the Lord," "He waits the resurrection to life eternal," recording the hopes of whole generations of survivors, he can not doubt the truth of the written records of the conversion of the Roman Empire. There is, moreover, another kind of contemporary history not so connected and regular as the formal diary or journal, which does not even propose to relate history at all, but is for that very reason entirely removed from the suspicion of giving a coloring to it; which, at the cost of a little patience and industry, gives us the most convincing confirmations of the truth, or exposures of the mistakes of historians, by the undesigned and incidental way in which the use of a name, a date, a proverb, a jest, an expletive, a quotation, an allusion, flashes conviction upon the reader's mind. I mean contemporary correspondence. If we have the private letters of celebrated men laid before us, we are enabled to look right into them, and see their true character. Thus Macaulay exhibits to the world the proud, lying, stupid tyrant, James, displayed in his own letters. Thus Voltaire records himself an adulterer, and begs his friend, D'Alembert, to lie for him; his friend replies that he has done so. Thus the correspondence of the great American herald of the Age of Reason exhibits him drinking a quart of brandy daily at his friend's expense, and refusing to pay his bill for boarding. In the unguarded freedom of confidential correspondence the vail is taken from the heart. We see men as they are. The true man stands out in his native dignity, and the gilding is rubbed off the hypocrite. Give the world their letters, and let the grave silence the plaudits and the clamors which deafened the generation among whom they lived, and no man will hesitate whether or not to pronounce Hume a sensualist, or Washington the noblest work of God--an honest man. If we add another test of truthfulness, by increasing the number of the witnesses, comparing a number of letters referring to the same events, written by persons of various degrees of education, and of different occupations and ranks of life, resident in different countries, acting independently of each other, and find them all agree in their allusions to, or direct mention of, some central facts concerning which they are all interested, no one can rightfully doubt that this undesigned agreement declares the truth. But if, in addition to all these undesigned coincidences, we happen upon the correspondence of persons whose interests and passions were diametrically opposed to those of our correspondents, and find that, when they have occasion to refer to them, they also confirm the great facts already ascertained, then our belief becomes conviction which can not be overturned by any sophistry, that these things did occur. If Whig and Tory agree in relating the facts of James' flight, and William's accession, if the letters of his Jacobite friends and those of the French ambassador confirm the statements of the English historian, and if we are put in possession of the letters which James himself wrote from France and Ireland to his friends in England, does any man in his common sense doubt that the Revolution of 1688 did actually occur? When, in addition to all this concentration and convergence of testimony, one finds that the matters related, being of public concern, and the changes effected for the public weal, the people have ever since observed, and do to this day celebrate, by religious worship and public rejoicings, the anniversaries of the principal events of that Revolution, and that he himself has been present, and has heard the thanksgivings, and witnessed the rejoicings on those anniversaries, the facts of the history come out from the domains of learned curiosity, and take their stand on the market-place of the busy world's engagements. We become at once conscious that this is a practical question--a great fact which concerns us--that the whole of the law and government of a vast empire has felt its impress--that our ancestors and ourselves have been molded under its influence, and that the religion of Europe and America, under whose guardianship we have grown to a prominent place among the people of earth, and may arrive at a better prominence among the nations of the saved, has been secured by that Revolution. We could scarcely know whether most to pity or contemn the man who should labor to persuade us that such a Revolution had never occurred, or that the facts had been essentially misrepresented. Now it is precisely on this kind of evidence that we believe the great facts of the Christian Revolution. We have contemporary histories, formal and informal; letters, public and private, from the principal agents in it, and opposers of it, dispersed from Babylon to Rome, and addressed to Greeks, Romans, Jews, and Asiatics, written by physicians, fishermen, proconsuls, emperors, and apostles. We have miles of monuments, paintings, statuary, cabinets of coins, and all the heraldry of Christendom. And these great facts stand out more prominently on the theater of the world's business as effecting changes on our laws and lives, and their introduction as authenticated by public commemorations, more solemn and more numerous than those resulting from the English or the American Revolution. Our main difficulty lies in selecting, from the vast mass of materials, a portion sufficiently distinct and manageable to be handled in a single essay. We shall be guided by the motto already announced as the rule of inductive research. One thing at a time; and the nearest first. The Epistles, being nearer our own times than the Gospels, claim our first notice, and first among these, those which stand latest on the page of sacred history, the letters of John; two from Peter to the Christians of Asia; and those which Paul, in chains for the gospel, dictated from imperial Rome. From the abundant notices of the early Christians by historians and philosophers, satirists and comedians, martyrs and magistrates, Jewish, Christian, and heathen, I shall select only two for comparison with the Epistles and of the apostles; and both those heathen--the celebrated letter of Pliny to Trajan, and the well-established history of Tacitus; both utterly undeniable, and admitted by the most skeptical to be above suspicion. Not that I suppose that the testimony of men who do not take the trouble of making any inquiry into the reality of the facts of the Christian religion is more accurate than that of those whose lives were devoted to its study; or that we have any just reason to attach as much weight to the assertions of persons, who, by their own showing, tortured and murdered men and women convicted of no crime but that of bearing the name of Christ, as to those of these martyrs, whose characters they acknowledged to be blameless, and who sealed their testimony with the last and highest attestation of sincerity--their blood. Considered merely as a historian, whether, as regards means of knowledge, or tests of truthfulness, by every unprejudiced mind, Peter will always be preferred to Pliny. But because the world will ever love its own, and hate the disciples of the Lord, there will always be a large class to whom the history of Tacitus will seem more veritable than that of Luke, and the letters of Pliny more reliable than those of Peter. For their sakes we avail ourselves of that most convincing of all attestations--the testimony of an enemy. What friends and foes unite in attesting must be accepted as true. The facts which we shall thus establish are not, in the first instance, those called miraculous. We are now ascertaining the general character for truthfulness of our letter writers and historians. If we find that their general historic narrative is contradicted by that of other credible historians, then we suspect their story. But if we find that, in all essential matters of public notoriety, they are supported by the concurred testimony of their foes, and that the narrative of the miracles they relate bears the seals of thousands who from foes became friends, from conviction of its truth, then we receive their witness as true. Even in Paul's day, heathen Greek writers bore testimony to the apostles, what manner of entering in they had unto the converts of Thessalonica; and how they turned to God from idols, to serve the living and true God, and to wait for his Son from heaven, whom he raised from the dead--even Jesus, who delivered us from the wrath to come. Pliny wrote forty years later. Pliny, the younger, was born A. D. 61, was prætor under Domitian, consul in the third year of Trajan, A. D. 100, was exceedingly desirous to add to his other honors that of the priesthood; was accordingly consecrated an augur, and built temples, bought images, and consecrated them on his estates; was, in A. D. 106, appointed Governor of the Roman Provinces of Pontus and Bithynia[73]--a vast tract of Asia Minor, lying along the shores of the Black Sea and the Propontis; and including the province anciently called Mysia, in which were situated Pergamos and Thyatira, and in the immediate vicinity of Sardis and Philadelphia. Pliny reached his province by the usual route, the port of Ephesus; where John had lived for many years, and indited his letters, A. D. 96, scarcely ten years before. The letters of Peter to the strangers scattered through Pontus, Galatia, Cappadocia, Asia, and Bithynia, bring us to the same mountainous region, eight hundred miles distant from Judea; whence, in earlier days, our savage ancestors received those Phoenician priests of Baal, whose round towers mark the coasts of Ireland nearest to the setting sun; and whence, about the period under consideration, came the heralds of the Sun of Righteousness, who brought the "_Leabhar Eoin_"[74] which tells their children of him in whom is the life and the light of men. Natives of these countries had been in Jerusalem during the crucifixion of Jesus, and, though only strangers, had witnessed the darkness, and the earthquake, and had heard the rumors of what had come to pass in those days; and on the day of Pentecost had mingled with the curious crowd around the apostles, and heard them speak, in their own mother tongues, of the wonderful works of God. The remainder of the story of their conversion we gather from the letters of Peter, John, and Pliny. "Pliny, to the Emperor Trajan, wisheth health and happiness:[75] "It is my constant custom, Sire, to refer myself to you in all matters concerning which I have any doubt. For who can better direct me when I hesitate, or instruct me when I am ignorant? "I have never been present at any trials of Christians, so that I know not well what is the subject matter of punishment, or of inquiry, or what strictures ought to be used in either. Nor have I been a little perplexed to determine whether any difference ought to be made upon account of age, or whether the young and tender, and the full grown and robust, ought to be treated all alike; whether repentance should entitle to pardon, or whether all who have once been Christians ought to be punished, though they are now no longer so; whether the name itself, although no crimes be detected, or crimes only belonging to the name ought to be punished. "In the meantime, I have taken this course with all who have been brought before me, and have been accused as Christians. I have put the question to them, whether they were Christians. Upon their confessing to me that they were, I repeated the question a second and a third time, threatening also to punish them with death. Such as still persisted, I ordered away to be punished; for it was no doubt with me, whatever might be the nature of their opinion, that contumacy and inflexible obstinacy ought to be punished. There were others of the same infatuation, whom, because they are Roman citizens, I have noted down to be sent to the city. "In a short time the crime spreading itself, even whilst under persecution, as is usual in such cases, divers sorts of people came in my way. An information was presented to me, without mentioning the author, containing the names of many persons, who, upon examination, denied that they were Christians, or had even been so; who repeated after me an invocation of the gods, and with wine and frankincense made supplication to your image, which, for that purpose, I have caused to be brought and set before them, together with the statues of the deities. Moreover, they reviled the name of Christ. None of which things, as is said, they who are really Christians can by any means be compelled to do. These, therefore, I thought proper to discharge. "Others were named by an informer, who at first confessed themselves Christians, and afterward denied it. The rest said they had been Christians, but had left them; some three years ago, some longer, and one or more above twenty years. They all worshiped your image, and the statues of the gods; these also reviled Christ. They affirmed that the whole of their fault or error lay in this: that they were wont to meet together, on a stated day, before it was light, and sing among themselves alternately, a hymn to Christ as a God, and bind themselves by a sacrament, not to the commission of any wickedness, but not to be guilty of theft, or robbery, or adultery; never to falsify their word, nor to deny a pledge committed to them, when called upon to return it. When these things were performed, it was their custom to separate, and then to come together again to a meal, which they ate in common, without any disorder; but this they had forborne since the publication of my edict, by which, according to your command, I prohibited assemblies. After receiving this account, I judged it the more necessary to examine two maid servants, which were called ministers, by torture. But I have discovered nothing besides a bad and excessive superstition. "Suspending, therefore, all judicial proceedings, I have recourse to you for advice; for it has appeared to me a matter highly deserving consideration, especially upon account of the great number of persons who are in danger of suffering. For many of all ages, and every rank, of both sexes likewise, are accused, and will be accused. Nor has the contagion of this superstition seized cities only, but the lesser towns also, and the open country. Nevertheless, it seems to me that it may be restrained and arrested. It is certain that the temples, which were almost forsaken, begin to be frequented. And the sacred solemnities, after a long intermission, are revived. Victims, likewise, are everywhere brought up, whereas, for some time, there were few purchasers. Whence, it is easy to imagine, what numbers of men might be reclaimed, if pardon were granted to those who shall repent." * * * * * "Trajan to Pliny, wisheth health and happiness:[76] "You have taken the right course, my Pliny, in your proceedings with those who have been brought before you as Christians; for it is impossible to establish any one rule that shall hold universally. They are not to be sought after. If any are brought before you, and are convicted, they ought to be punished. However, he that denies his being a Christian, and makes it evident in fact, that is, by supplicating to our gods, though he be suspected to have been so formerly, let him be pardoned upon repentance. But in no case, of any crime whatever, may a bill of information be received without being signed by him who presents it, for that would be a dangerous precedent, and unworthy of my government." I must request my reader now to procure a New Testament, and read, at one reading, the First General Epistle of Peter, the First General Epistle of John, and the Seven Epistles to the Churches in Ephesus, Smyrna, Pergamos, Thyatira, Sardis, Philadelphia, and Laodicea--only about as much matter as four pages of _Harper's Magazine_, or half a page of the _Commercial_--that he may be able to do the same justice to the apostles as to the governor. He will thus be able to see the force of the various allusions to the numbers, doctrines, morals, persecutions, and perseverance of the Christians, contained in those letters; the object which I have in view being, to establish their authenticity by proving the truthfulness of their allusions to these things. If you think this too much trouble, please lay down the book, and dismiss the consideration of religion from your thoughts. If the letters of the apostles are not worth a careful reading, it is of no consequence whether they are true or false. 1. These letters take for granted, that the fact of the existence of large numbers of Christians, organized into churches, and meeting regularly for religious worship, at the close of the first century, is a matter of public notoriety to the world. Here, in countries eight hundred miles distant from its birthplace, in the lifetime of those who had seen its founder crucified, we find Christians scattered over Pontus, Galatia, Cappadocia, Asia, and Bithynia--churches in seven provincial cities, the sect well known to Pliny, before he left Italy, as a proscribed and persecuted religion, the professors of which were customarily brought before courts for trial and punishment--though he had not himself been present at such trials--and now so numerous in his provinces, that a great number of persons, of both sexes, young and old, of all ranks, natives and Roman citizens, professed Christianity. Others, influenced by their example and instruction, renounced idolatry; victims were not led to sacrifice; the sacred rites of the gods were suspended, and their temples forsaken. The existence, then, of churches of Christ, consisting of vast numbers of converted heathens, at the close of the first century, is in no wise mythological or dubious. It is an established historical fact. The Epistles of the apostles stand confirmed by the Epistles of the governor and the emperor. 2. The second great fact presented in the Epistles, and confirmed by the letters of the governor and the emperor, is, that the worship of the Christian Church then was essentially the same which it is now. We find these Christians of the first century commemorating the death and resurrection of Christ, and rendering divine honors to him; the "stated day" on which they assembled for worship, and the "common meal," are as plain a description of the "disciples coming together upon the first day of the week, to break bread," as a heathen could give in few words. Their terms of communion too, to which they pledged their members by a sacrament, "not to be guilty of theft, robbery, or adultery; never to falsify their word, or deny a pledge committed to them," find their counterpart in every well-regulated church at this day. The articles of the Christian faith, then, are not the "gradual accretions of centuries," nor is the "redemptive idea, as attaching to Christ, a dogma of the post-Augustine period." The churches of the first century commemorated the death and resurrection of Jesus, as that of a divine person, "singing the hymn to him as a God," which their descendants sing at this day around his table: "Forever and forever is, O God, thy throne of might, The scepter of thy kingdom is a scepter that is right, Thou lovest right, and hatest ill; for God, thy God, Most High, Above thy fellows hath with th' oil of joy anointed thee." And the question will force itself upon our minds, and can not be evaded, How did these apostles persuade such multitudes of heathens to believe their repeated assertions of the death, resurrection, and glory of Jesus? In the space of three octavo pages, Peter refers to these facts eighteen times. John, in like manner, repeatedly affirms them. The Christian religion consists in the belief of these facts, and a life corresponding to them. Now, how did the apostles persuade such multitudes of heathens to believe a report so wonderful, profess a religion so novel, renounce the gods they had worshiped from their childhood, and all the ceremonies of an attractive, sensual religion; "temples of splendid architecture, statues of exquisite sculpture, priests and victims superbly adorned, attendant beauteous youth of both sexes, performing all the sacred rites with gracefulness; religious dances, illuminations, concerts of the sweetest music, perfumes of the rarest fragrance," and other more licentious enjoyments, inseparable from heathen worship. How did they persuade them to exchange all this for the assembly before daybreak, the frugal common meal, the psalm to Christ, and the commemoration of the death of a crucified malefactor? If we add, that they commemorated his resurrection, by observing the Lord's day, the question comes up, How did they come to believe that he was risen from the dead? Could a few despised strangers, or a few citizens if you will, persuade such a community, purely by natural means, to believe such a report, to care whether the Syrian Jew died or rose, or to commemorate weekly, by a solemn religious service, either his death or resurrection? It is evident they believed what they commemorated. How did they come to do so? But whether we can answer the question or not, the fact stands out as indisputable, that not merely the writers of the Epistles and Gospels, and a few enthusiasts, but an immense multitude of all ages, of both sexes, and of every rank--the whole membership of the primitive churches--did believe in the death, resurrection, and glory of the Lord Jesus, and did render to him divine worship. The second great fact, affirmed in the Epistles, stands confirmed by the testimony of the heathen governor, and of the Roman emperor. 3. A mere theory of a new religion, unconnected with practice, may be easily received by those who care little about any, so long as it brings no suffering or inconvenience. But the religion of these Christians was, as you see, a practical religion. If their new worship required a great departure from the worship of their childhood, their Christian morals required a still greater departure from their former mode of life. I need not remind you of the moral codes of Socrates, Plato, and Aristides, who taught that lying, thieving, adultery, and murder were lawful; nor how much worse than the theory of the best of the heathen were the lives of the worst; nor how unpopular to persons so educated would be such teaching as this--"Forasmuch then as Christ hath suffered for us in the flesh, arm yourselves also with the same mind: for he that hath suffered in the flesh hath ceased from sin: that he no longer should live the rest of his time in the flesh to the lusts of men, but to the will of God. For the time past of our life may suffice us to have wrought the will of the Gentiles, when we walked in lasciviousness, lusts, excess of wine, revelings, banquetings, and abominable idolatries; wherein they think it strange that ye run not with them to the same excess of riot, speaking evil of you: who shall give account to him that is ready to judge the living and the dead." "Lay aside all malice, and guile, and hypocrisies, and envies, and all evil speakings." "Whosoever abideth in Christ sinneth not. Whosoever sinneth hath not seen him, neither known him. Little children, let no man deceive you. He that doeth righteousness is righteous, even as he is righteous. He that committeth sin is of the devil." So sharp, and stern, and strictly virtuous is apostolic religion, as displayed in these letters. Is it possible then that these converted heathens did really even approach this standard of morality? Did this gospel of Christ actually produce any such reformation of their lives? You have the testimony of apostates, eager to save their lives by giving such information as they knew would be acceptable to the persecutor; you have the testimony of the two aged deaconesses, under torture; you have the unwilling, but yet express, testimony of their torturer and murderer, that all his cruel ingenuity could discover nothing worse than an excessive superstition and culpable obstinacy. What, then, does this philosophic inspector of entrails, and adorer of idols, call an excessive superstition and culpable obstinacy? Why, they bound themselves by the most solemn religious services, not to be guilty of theft, robbery, or adultery; not to falsify their word, nor deny a pledge committed to them; and when some senseless blocks of brass were carried on men's shoulders, into the court-house, to represent a mortal man, they would not adore them, nor pray to them; no, not though this philosopher compiled the liturgy, and set the example. For this refusal, and this alone, he ordered them away to death. Doubtless they heard, in their hearts, the well-known words, "Let none of you suffer as a murderer, or as a thief, or as an evil-doer, or as a busybody in other men's matters. But if any man suffer as a Christian, let him not be ashamed, but let him glorify God on this behalf." The morality of the Epistles, then, was not a merely a fine theory, but an actual rule of life. The moral codes of the apostles were received as actually binding on the members of the churches of the first century. In this all-important matter of the rule of a good life--the fruits by which the tree is known--the integrity, authority, and success of the apostles, in turning licentious heathens into moral Christians, is authenticated by the unwilling testimony of their persecutors. The Epistles of the apostles stand confirmed, as to their ethics, by the letters of Trajan and Pliny. 4. The only other fact to which I call your attention, from among the multitude alluded to in these letters, is the cost at which these converts from heathenism embraced this new religion. Every one who renounced heathenism, and professed the name of Christ, knew very well that he must suffer for it. "Beloved, think it not strange concerning the fiery trial which is to try you, as though some strange thing happened unto you, but rejoice, inasmuch as ye are partakers of Christ's sufferings, that when his glory shall be revealed, ye may be glad with exceeding joy;" this was the welcome of the Bithynian convert into the Church of Christ. Persecution by fire and sword was then the common lot of the Church. "I have never been present at any trials of the Christians," says the governor. Such trials were well known to him it seems. He was not sure whether he should murder all who ever had borne the name of Christ, or only those who proved themselves to be really his disciples, by refusing to revile him, and return to idolatry; and the merciful emperor commands him to spare the apostates. Above twenty years before--in A. D. 86--there were apostates from the persecuted religion. In A. D. 90, John had written, "they went out from us, that it might be made manifest they were not of us; for if they had been of us, they would no doubt have continued with us; but they went out that it might be made manifest that they were not all of us." So it seems Pliny thought: "They all worshiped your image, and other statues of the gods; these also reviled Christ. None of which things, as is said, they who are really Christians can by any means be compelled to do." What these means were he tells us: "I put the question to them, whether they were Christians. Upon their confessing to me that they were, I repeated the question a second and a third time, threatening, also, to punish them with death. Such as still persisted, I ordered away to be punished." What is very remarkable, it was, it seems, "usual in such cases, for the crime to spread itself, even whilst under persecution." In the face of such dangers, these heathen would still profess faith in Christ, and when they might have saved their lives by reviling him, refused to do so. From the published rescript of the emperor, approving of Pliny's course, and condemning to death all who were convicted of being really Christians; from the public circulars of the apostles, warning them of "fiery trials," "Satan casting some of them into prison," and exhorting them to "be faithful unto death;" and from such comments on these as the torture and public execution of aged women as well as men--the terms of discipleship were well known to the whole world. Yet we see that in the face of all this, "great numbers of persons, of both sexes, and of all ages, and of every rank," in Pliny's opinion, were so steadfast in their faith, that "they were in great danger of suffering." Here, then, is another well-attested fact, in which the testimony of the apostles stands confirmed by the signatures of the Bithynian governor, and the Roman emperor--a fact which stands forth clear, prominent, most undoubted, without the smallest trace of anything mythological or misty about it--that, in A. D. 106, great numbers of converted heathens did suffer exile, torture, and death itself, rather than renounce Christ; and that it was well known that the Christian faith enabled its professor to overcome the world. These four great facts of the later Epistles, being thus established beyond dispute, in pursuance of our plan, we ascend the stream of history some forty years, to the time of the earlier Epistles, when Paul lay in the Prætorian prison, and his faithful companion, Luke, wrote the continuation of his narrative of the things most surely believed among the Christians; when "apostles were made as the filth of the world, and the offscouring of all things;" and Christians "were made a gazing stock both by reproaches and afflictions;" "were brought before kings and rulers, and hated of all nations for Christ's name sake;" "endured a great fight of afflictions;" were "for his sake killed all the day long, and accounted as sheep for the slaughter;" "were made a spectacle to the world, to angels, and to men." We remove the field of our investigation from a remote province of Asia, to one equally remote from Judea, and far more unfavorable for the growth of the religion of a crucified Jew, to the proud capital of the world, imperial Rome. The time shall be shortly after the burning of the city, in A. D. 64, and during the raging of the first of those systematic, imperial, and savage persecutions through which the Church of Christ waded, in the bloody footsteps of her Lord, to world-wide influence, and undying fame. Our historian shall be the well-known Tacitus; and the single extract from his history, one of which the infidel Gibbon says:[77] "The most skeptical criticism is obliged to respect the truth of this important fact, and the integrity of this celebrated passage of Tacitus." I shall not insert quotations from Paul or Luke; that were merely to transcribe large portions of the Epistles and Gospels, which whoever will not carefully peruse, disqualifies himself for forming a judgment of their veracity. The confirmation of the four facts already established, of the existence, worship, morals, and sufferings of the disciples of Christ; and these facts as well known within thirty years after his death, will sufficiently appear by the perusal of the following testimony of Tacitus.[78] After relating the burning of the city, and Nero's attempt to transfer the odium of it to the sect "commonly known by the name of Christians," he says: "The author of that name was Christ, who, in the reign of Tiberius, was put to death as a criminal, under the procurator, Pontius Pilate. But this pestilent superstition, checked for a while, broke out afresh, and spread not only over Judea, where the evil originated, but also in Rome, where all that is evil on the earth finds its way, and is practiced. At first, those only were apprehended who confessed themselves of that sect; afterward, _a vast multitude_ discovered by them; all of whom were condemned, not so much for the crime of burning the city, as for their enmity to mankind. Their executions were so contrived, as to expose them to derision and contempt. Some were covered over with the skins of wild beasts, that they might be torn to pieces by dogs; some were crucified; while others, having been daubed over with combustible materials, were set up for lights in the night time, and thus burned to death. For these spectacles Nero gave his own gardens, and, at the same time, exhibited there the diversions of the circus; sometimes standing in the crowd as a spectator, in the habit of a charioteer; and, at other times, driving a chariot himself; until at length these men, though really criminal, and deserving of exemplary punishment, began to be commiserated, as people who were destroyed, not out of regard to the public welfare, but only to gratify the cruelty of one man." We add no comment on this remarkable passage. Take up your New Testament and read the contemporary history--Acts xxii. to the end of the book--and the letters of Paul from Rome, to Philemon, Titus, the Ephesians, Philippians, Colossians, and the Second to Timothy, written when the aged prisoner was ready to be offered, and the time of his departure, amidst such scenes and sufferings, was at hand. Then form your own opinion as to the origin and nature of that faith in Jesus which enabled him to say: "None of these things move me, neither count I my life dear unto me, that I may finish my course with joy, and the testimony which I have received of the Lord Jesus." "I know in whom I have believed, and am persuaded that he is able to keep that which I have committed to him against that day." Whatever may be your opinion of the apostle's hope for the future, you must acknowledge that we have ascertained, beyond contradiction, these four facts of the past: 1. That without the power of force, or the help of governments, and in spite of them, the apostles did convert vast multitudes of idolaters from a senseless worship of stocks and stones, to the worship of the one living and true God; a thing never done by the preachers of any other religion before or since. 2. That without the help of power or civil law, and solely by moral and spiritual means, they did persuade multitudes of licentious heathens to give up their vices, and obey the pure precepts of the morality contained in their Epistles; a thing never done by the preachers of any other religion before or since. 3. That these converts were so firmly persuaded of the truth of their new religion, that, with the choice of life and worldly honor, or a death of infamy and torture before them, multitudes deliberately chose to suffer torture and death rather than renounce the belief in one God, obedience to his laws, and the hope of eternal life through Jesus Christ, which they had learned from the sermons and letters of these apostles; a thing never done by the professors of any other religion before or since.[79] 4. The faith which produced such an illumination of their minds; which caused such a blessed change in their lives; which filled them with joy and hope, and enabled them even to despise torture and death, was briefly this: "That Christ died for our sins, according to the Scriptures; and that he was buried, and that he rose again on the third day, according to the Scriptures; that he ascended up into heaven, and will come again to judge the world, and reward every man according to his works; and that whosoever believes these things in his heart, and confesses them with his mouth, shall be saved; and he that believeth them not shall be damned." It is a fact, then, indisputably proven by history, that the New Testament does teach a religion which can enlighten men's minds, reform their lives, give peace to their consciences, and enable them to meet death with a joyful hope of life eternal. It has done these things in times past, and is doing them now. These are its undoubted fruits. Reader, this faith may be yours. It will work the same results in you as it has done in others. Like causes ever produce like effects. Jesus waits to deliver you from your sins, to fill you with joy and peace in believing, and make you abound in hope, by the power of the Holy Ghost. He has promised, if you will ask it, "I will give them a heart to know me, that I am the Lord." FOOTNOTES: [73] Lardner VII. page 18, _et seq._ [74] Pronounced Laar Owen--John's Book. [75] Lib. X. Ep. 97, Lardner VII. 22. [76] Lib. X. Ep. 98, Lardner VII. 24. [77] Decline and Fall, Vol. II. page 407. [78] Lib. XV. chap. 44. [79] The sufferings of the Jews, under Antiochus, are no exception. They suffered for their faith in the true God, the Messiah to come, and a resurrection to life eternal. CHAPTER VII. CAN WE BELIEVE CHRIST AND HIS APOSTLES? "That which was from the beginning, which we have heard, which we have seen with our eyes, which we have looked upon, and our hands have handled of the Word of life * * * that which we have seen and heard declare we unto you."--1 John i. 1. We have seen that the companions of Jesus wrote the books of the New Testament; that their statements of the existence, worship, morals, and faith of the Christian Church are confirmed by their enemies, and that multitudes of heathens were turned from vice to virtue by the belief of the testimony of these men. They testified that Jesus Christ did many wonderful miracles, died for our sins, and rose again from the dead; that they saw, and felt his body, and ate, and drank, and conversed with him for forty days after his resurrection; that he ascended up to heaven in their sight; that he sent them to tell the world that he will come again in the clouds of heaven, with his mighty angels, to judge the living and the dead; that he who believes these things and is baptized shall be saved, but he that believeth not shall be damned. This is their statement. The question is, Can we believe them? 1. The first thing which strikes us in their testimony is, that it stands out utterly different from all other religions. There is nothing in the world like it, not even its counterfeits. The great central fact of Christianity--that Christ died for our sins, and rose again from the dead--stands absolutely alone in the history of religions. The priests of Baal, Brahma, or Jupiter, never dreamed of such a thing. The prophets of Mohammedanism, Mormonism, or Pantheism, have never attempted to imitate it. The great object of all counterfeit Christianity is to deny it. There is no instance in the whole world's history of any other religion ever producing the same effects. We demand an instance of men destitute of wealth, arms, power, and learning, converting multitudes of lying, lustful, murdering idolaters, into honest, peaceable, virtuous men simply by prayer and preaching. When the Infidel tells us of the rapid spread of Mohammedanism and Mormonism--impostures which enlist disciples by promising free license to lust, robbery, and murder, and retain them by the terror of the scimeter and the rifle ball; which reduce mankind to the most abject servitude, and womanhood to the most debasing concubinage; which have turned the fairest regions of the earth to a wilderness, and under whose blighting influence commerce, arts, science, industry, comfort, and the human race itself, have withered away--he simply insults our common sense, by ignoring the difference between backgoing vice and ongoing virtue; or acknowledges that he knows as little about Mohammedanism, as he does about Christianity. The gospel stands alone in its doctrines, singular in its operation, unequaled in its success. 2. The next important point for consideration is, that the Christianity preached by Christ and his apostles is a whole--a single system, which we must either take or leave--believe entirely, or entirely reject it as an imposture. There is no middle ground for you to occupy. It is all true, or all false. For instance, you can not take one of Paul's Epistles and say, "this is true," and take another of the same man's letters, containing the very same religion, and say, "this is false." If you accept the very briefest of Paul's Letters, that to Philemon, containing only thirteen sentences on private business, you accept eleven distinct assertions of the authority, grace, love, and divinity of our Lord. Nor can you say you will accept Peter's Letters and reject Paul's; for you will find the very same facts asserted by the one as by the other; and moreover, Peter indorses "all the epistles of our beloved brother Paul" as on the same pedestal of authority with the other Scriptures. You can not say, "I will accept the letters and reject the history," for the letters have no meaning without the history. They are founded upon it, and assume or allege its facts on every page. Were the gospels lost, we could collect a good account of the birth, teaching, death, resurrection, ascension, and almighty power of the Lord Christ from Paul's Epistles; and these letters are just as confident in alleging the miraculous part of the history as the gospels themselves. Neither can you gain any advantage by saying, "I accept the gospels, but reject the letters," for there is not a doctrine of the New Testament which is not taught in the very first of them, the Gospel by Matthew. Further, the gospels contain the most solemn authentication of the commissions of the apostles, so that whoever rejects their teaching, brings upon himself guilt equal to that of rejecting Christ himself. "Lo, I am with you alway"--"He that receiveth you receiveth me, and he that receiveth me, receiveth him that sent me"--"Whosoever will not receive you, nor hear your words, when ye depart out of that house or city, shake off the dust of your feet. Verily I say unto you, it shall be more tolerable for the land of Sodom and Gomorrah in the day of judgment, than for that city." It is, if possible, more absurd to attempt to dissect the morality of the gospel from its history, and to say, "We are willing to receive the Christian code of morals as a very excellent rule of life, and to regard Jesus as a rare example of almost superhuman virtue, but we must consider the narrative of supernatural events interwoven with it as mythological," _i. e._, false. Which is much the same as to say, "We will be very happy to receive your friend if he will only cut his head off." Of what possible use would the Christian code of morals be without the authority of Christ, the lawgiver? If he possessed no divine authority, what right has he to control your inclination or mine? And if he will never return to inquire whether men obey or disobey his law, who will regard it? Do you suppose the world will be turned upside down, and reformed, by a little good advice? Nay, verily, the world has had trial of that vanity long enough. "We must all appear before the judgment seat of Christ, that every one may receive the things done in the body, according to that he hath done, whether it be good or bad. Knowing, therefore, _the terrors of the Lord_, we persuade men." Take away the miraculous and supernatural from the gospel history, and there is nothing left for you to accept. There is no political economy nor worldly morality in it. It is wholly the history of a supernatural person, and every precept of his morality comes with a divine sanction. Further, you know nothing of either his life or his morality but from the gospel history, and if the record of the miracles which occupy three-fourths of the gospels be false, what reason have you to give any credit to the remainder? For, as the German commentator, De Wette, well says, "The only means of acquaintance with a history is the narrative we possess concerning it, and beyond that narrative the interpreter can not go. In these Bible records, the narrative reports to us only a supernatural course of events, which we must either receive or reject. If we reject the narrative, we know nothing at all about the event, and we are not justified in allowing ourselves to invent a natural course of events of which the narrative is totally silent." So, you see, you can not make a Christ to suit your taste, but must just take the Christ of the gospel, or reject him. If you reject the testimony of Christ and his apostles as false, and say you can not believe them in matters of fact, how can you respect their morality? Of all the absurdities of modern Infidelity, the respectful language generally used by its advocates in speaking of Christ and his apostles is the most inconsistent. He claimed to be a Divine Person, and professed to work miracles. The Infidel says he was not a Divine Person, and wrought no miracles. The consequence is unavoidable--such a pretender is a blasphemous impostor. And yet they speak of him as a "model man," an "exemplar of every virtue." What! an impostor a model man? A blasphemer and liar an exemplar of every virtue? Is that the Infidel's notion of virtue? Why, the devils were more consistent in their commendations of his character, "We know thee who thou art, THE HOLY ONE OF GOD." Let our modern enemies of Christ learn consistency from their ancient allies. We have also learned from our Master to refuse all hypocritical, half-way professions of respect for his character and teachings from those whose business is to prove him a deceiver, and whose object in speaking respectfully of such a One can only be to gain a larger audience, and a readier entrance for their blasphemy among his professed disciples. From every man who professes respect for Christ's character, and for the morality which he and his apostles taught, we demand a straightforward answer to the questions: "When he declared himself the Son of God, the Judge of the living and the dead, did he tell the truth, or did he lie? When he promised to attest his divine commission by rising from the dead on the third day, had he any such power, or did he only mean to play a juggling imposture? Is Jesus the Christ the Son of the Living God, or a deceiver?" There is no middle ground. He that is not with him is against him. The case is just the same with regard to the witnesses of his miracles, death, and resurrection. They either give a true relation of these things, or they have manufactured a series of falsehoods. How can we believe anything from persons so habituated to lying as the narrators of the mighty works of Jesus must be, if those mighty works never were performed? How can we accept their code of morals if we refuse to believe them when they speak of matters of fact? Is it possible to respect men as moral teachers, whom we have convicted of forging stories of miracles that never occurred, and confederating together to impose a lying superstition on the world? For this is plainly the very point and center of the question about the truth of the Bible, and I am anxious you should see it clearly. A fair statement of this question is half the argument. The question then is simply this, Was Jesus really the Divine Person he claimed to be, or was he a blasphemous impostor? When the apostles unitedly and solemnly testified that they had seen him after he was risen from the dead, that they ate and drank with him, that their hands had handled his body, that they conversed with him for forty days, and that they saw him go up to heaven, did they tell the truth or were they a confederated band of liars? There is no reason for any other supposition. They could not possibly be deceived themselves in the matters they relate. They knew perfectly whether they were true or not. We are not talking about matters of dogma, about which there might be room for difference of opinion, but about matters of fact--about what men say they saw, and heard, and felt--about which no man of common sense could possibly be mistaken. "That which we have seen with our eyes, which we have heard, which we have looked upon, and our hands have handled of the Word of life * * * that which we have seen and heard declare we unto you." Such is their language. We must either take it as truth, or reject it as falsehood. It is utter nonsense to talk of the intense subjectivity of the Jewish mind, and the belief of the apostles that the Messiah would do wonders when he came, and the powerful impressions produced by the teaching of Jesus on their minds. We are not talking about impressions on their minds, but about impressions produced on their eyes, and ears, and hands. Did these men tell the truth when they told the world that they did eat and drink with Jesus after he rose from the dead, or did they lie? That is the question. 3. It is a hard matter to lie well. A liar has need of a good memory, else he will contradict himself before he writes far. And he needs to be very well posted up in the matters of names, dates, places, manners and customs, else he will contradict some well-known facts, and so expose his forgery to the world. Therefore writers of forgeries avoid all such things as much as possible, and as surely as they venture on specifications of that sort they are detected. A man who is conscious of writing a book of falsehoods does not begin on this wise: "Now in the fifteenth year of the reign of Tiberius Cæsar, Pontius Pilate being Governor of Judea, and Herod being Tetrarch of Galilee, and his brother Philip Tetrarch of Iturea and of the regions of Trachonitis, and Lysanias Tetrarch of Abilene, Annas and Caiphas being high priests, the Word of God came unto John, the son of Zacharias, in the wilderness." Here in one sentence are twenty historical, geographical, political, and genealogical references, every one of which we can confirm by references to secular historians. The enemies of the Lord have utterly failed in their attempts to disprove one out of the hundreds of such statements in the New Testament. The only instance of any _public political event_ recorded in the gospel, said not to be confirmed by the fragments of secular history we possess, is Luke's account of a census of the Roman Empire, ordered by Augustus Cæsar. Were it so that Luke stood alone in his mention of this, surely his credit as a historian would be as good for this fact, as the credit of Tacitus, when he states matters of which Suetonius makes no mention, or of Pliny, when he relates things not recorded by Tacitus. But we can account for the want of corroborative history in this instance, when we know that all the history of Dion Cassius, from the consulships of Antistius and Balbus to those of Messala and Cinna--that is, for five years before and five years after the birth of Christ--is lost; as also Livy's history of the same period. It is certain that some one did record the fact, for Suidas, in his lexicon upon the word _apographe_, says, "that Augustus sent twenty select men into all the provinces of the empire to take a census, both of men and property, and commanded that a just proportion of the latter should be brought into the imperial treasury. And this was the first census." To object to the gospel history, that everything contained in it of the doings of Christ and his apostles in Judea, is not recorded by the historians of Greece and Italy, is much the same as to say that there are a multitude of facts recorded in D'Aubigne's History of the Reformation in Germany, of which Hume and Macaulay make no mention in their histories of England. How should they?--treating of different countries, and for the most part of different periods, and writing civil and not church history? Does anybody go to Macaulay to look for the history of the Westminster Assembly, or to Bancroft for an account of the Great Revival in New England? Or is the veracity of Baillie, or Edwards suspected, because political history does not concern itself much about religion? It is enough that not a single statement of the gospel history has ever been disproved. I might give you quotations from the enemies of the Christian faith, from Josephus the Jew, and Celsus, and Porphyry, heathen philosophers, and from the Emperor Julian, the apostate--who, having been raised a Christian, became a heathen, and used all his ingenuity to overturn the religion of Christ--expressly admitting the principal miracles recorded in the gospel. But I attach no such importance to the testimony of this class of persons as to suppose that it should be placed, for one moment, on a level with the testimony of the apostles, or that their testimony to the facts of the life and death of Christ needs any confirmation from such witnesses. We have such overwhelming evidence of the sincerity and truth of the witnesses chosen by God to bear testimony to the resurrection of Christ, as we never can have of the credibility of any secular historian whatever. You will remember that these are the writers whose accounts of the existence, the faith and worship, the numbers and morals of the Christian Church, we have seen so strikingly confirmed by their enemies; and we now inquire, Can we believe the other part of their history to be as true? These are the men who taught the heathen a pure Christian morality, one principal article of which was, "Lie not one to another, seeing ye have put off the old man with his deeds"--"All liars shall have their portion in the lake that burneth with fire and brimstone"--and we are to inquire if they themselves lied; lied publicly, lied repeatedly, if the very business of their lives was to propagate falsehood, and if they died with a lie in their right hands. You will remember that we proved conclusively that the belief of the death and resurrection of Jesus did turn immense multitudes of wicked men to a life of virtue, and now we are to inquire if the belief of a lie produced this blessed result, and whether, if so, there be any such thing as truth in the world, or any use in it? 4. Of no other series of events of ancient history do we possess the same number of records by contemporary historians, as of the life, death, and resurrection of the Lord Jesus. We have four direct systematic memoirs of him by four of his companions; and we have a collection of letters by four others, in which the events of the memoirs are continually referred to. At the mouth of two or three witnesses any man's property and life will be disposed of in a court of justice, but here we have the testimony of eight eye-witnesses of the facts they relate, and they refer to five hundred other persons, the greater part of whom were then alive, who had also seen and heard Christ after his resurrection. These eight persons give us their separate and independent statements of those things they deemed worthy of record in the life and death of Christ, and of the sayings and doings of several of his friends and enemies. Now every person knows that it is impossible to make two crooked boughs tally, or two false witnesses agree. You never saw two lying reports of any considerable number of transactions agree, unless the one was copied from the other. It is evident that the gospels were not copied from each other, for they often relate different events, and when they relate the same occurrence, each man relates those parts of it which he saw himself, and which impressed him most. Yet the utmost ingenuity of infidelity has utterly failed to make them contradict each other in any particular. Here are eight witnesses to the truth of the same story, four of whom in their letters make occasional allusions to the facts of the history as being perfectly well known, and therefore needing only to be alluded to, yet these cursory references fit into the history with every mark of truthfulness. Does the history of Matthew, written at Jerusalem, tell us that Jesus took Peter, and James, and John up into a high mountain apart, and was transfigured before them? Peter, in his letter, written from Babylon, says, "We were eye-witnesses of his majesty. We were with him in the holy mount."--2 Peter ii. 10. If the history tells how Paul was beaten and cast into prison at Philippi, and his feet made fast in the stocks, and that, nevertheless, he manfully defended his birthright as a Roman citizen, and made the tyrannical magistrates humble themselves, and apologize for their illegal conduct, we find Paul himself, in a letter to a neighboring church, appealing to their knowledge of the facts, "that after we had suffered before, and were shamefully entreated, as ye know, at Philippi, we were bold in our God to speak unto you the gospel of God with much contention. For our exhortation was not of deceit, nor of uncleanness, nor in guile. For neither at any time used we flattering words, as ye know, nor a cloak for covetousness."--1 Thessalonians ii. 2. Hundreds of such undesigned coincidences may be found in the New Testament, confirming the veracity of the several historians and letter writers, and giving that impression of the naturalness and truth of the story, which can neither be described nor disputed. The reader who desires to prosecute this interesting branch of the evidences of Christianity will find an ample collection of these coincidences in Paley's Horæ Paulinæ. This agreement of independent writers is the more remarkable, as the writers were persons of very various degrees of education, of different professions and ranks of life, born in different countries, and writing from various places in Italy, Greece, Palestine, and Assyria, without any communication with each other. Matthew was an officer of customs in Galilee; Mark a Hebrew citizen of Jerusalem; Luke a Greek physician of Antioch; James and John owned and sailed a fishing smack on Lake Tiberias; Jude left his thirty-nine acres of land, worth nine thousand denarii, to be farmed by his children when he went forth to preach the gospel; and college-bred Paul carried his sturdy independence in his breast, and his sail needles in his pocket, and dictated epistles, and cut out marquees and lug-sails in the tent factory of Aquila, Paul & Co., at Corinth. Several of his letters were written in a dungeon in Rome; the last of Peter's is dated at Babylon; Matthew's Gospel was penned at Jerusalem, and John's Gospel and Epistles were written at Ephesus. The agreement of eight such witnesses, of such different pursuits, and so scattered over the world, in the relation of the same story, in all its leading particulars, together with their variety of style and manner, and their various relations of minor incidents, yet without a single contradiction, are most convincing proofs that they all tell truth. Nothing but truth could be thus told without contradiction. The fact that some considerable difficulties and many minor obscurities in these brief though pregnant narratives, prevent the combination of eight accounts so independent in their sources, and various in their style, and design, and auditors, into a flowing historical novel, a homogeneous mass, rounded and squared to our ideas of mathematical precision, is only an additional proof of their truth to nature, which abhors mathematical, as much as truth does rhetorical figures. Like the variety of expression used by American, German, French, and Polish witnesses in our courts of justice, testifying the same facts in their native idioms, though in English words, the apparent discrepancy, but actual harmony, becomes the most decisive test of the absence of any collusion, and consequently of the verity of the facts which such various witnesses unite in testifying. Especially will any such apparent discrepancy resolve itself into our own unskillfulness or ignorance, when we remember that the mists of ages, and the drapery of a strange language, and world-wide removal of residence, and the turning of the world upside down by the progress of Christian civilization, and our consequent ignorance of the thousand little details of every-day life, well known to the writer and his immediate readers, and of the force of expressive idioms, perfectly familiar to them--have rendered us not near so capable of detecting inaccuracies, as those contemporary writers and opponents, who allowed them--if they existed--to pass unchallenged. Like those antique coins, whose rust-dimmed and abbreviated inscriptions exercise the patience and historic lore of the antiquarian, though neither are needed to declare the precious material, this very rust of antiquity, through which his patience has penetrated, becomes one of the inimitable marks of historic verity. Every year throws some new light on texts difficult to us from our ignorance of those manners, customs, names, and places, which Infidel malice and Christian piety have combined to explore; and from the ruins of Nineveh and the sepulchers of Egypt we receive unlooked-for testimonies to the minute accuracy of the penmen of the Bible. 5. The manner in which the apostles published their testimony to the world bears every mark of truthfulness. Deception and forgery skulk, and try to spread themselves at first in holes and corners, but he that doeth truth cometh to the light. Had the apostles been conscious of falsehood, would they have dared to assert that Jesus was risen from the dead in the very streets of the city where he was crucified? in the temple, the most public place of resort of the Jews who saw him crucified? and to the teeth of the very men who put him to death? If conscious of falsehood, would they have dared, before the chief priests, and the council, and all the senate of Israel, to assert that "The God of our fathers raised up Jesus, whom ye slew and hanged on a tree. Him hath God exalted with his right hand to be a Prince and a Savior, to give repentance to Israel, and remission of sins. And we are his witnesses of these things, and so is also the Holy Ghost which God hath given to them that obey him."--Acts v. 30. Would Paul, had he been conscious that he was relating falsehood, have dared to appeal to the judge, before whom he was on trial for his life, as to one who knew the notoriety of these facts, "For the king knoweth of these things, before whom also I speak freely; for I am persuaded that none of these things are hidden from him: for this thing was not done in a corner."--Acts xxvi. 26. Would such appeals have been suffered to pass uncontradicted had the statements of the apostles been false? The boldness of their manner, however, of telling their story, is little, compared with the boldness of the design which they had in view in telling it; which was nothing less than to convert the world. Now the idea of proselyting other nations to a new religion was absolutely unknown to the world at that time. The Greeks and Romans never dreamed of any such thing. They would sometimes add a new god to their old Pantheon, but the idea of turning a nation to the worship of new deities was never before heard of. The Jews were so indignant at the project, that when Paul hinted it to them, they cried, "Away with such a fellow from the earth, for it is not fit that he should live." And this new and strange idea, of conquering the world for a crucified man, is taken up by a few private citizens, who resolve to overturn the craft by which priests have their wealth, and to bring the kingdoms of the world to become the kingdoms of our Lord and of his Christ. Impostors would never have appealed to their power of working miracles as the apostles did; nor could enthusiasts have done so without instant exposure. It is remarkable, that while in addressing those who believed their divine commission, they rarely allude to it (fourteen of the epistles make no allusion to apostolic miracles), but dwell on a subject of far greater importance--a holy life--they never hesitate to confront a Simon Magus, or a schismatical church at Corinth, or a persecuting high priest and sanhedrim with this power of the Holy Ghost. "Tongues," says Paul, "are for a sign, not to them that believe, but to them that believe not;" and this is true of all other miracles. This marks the difference between real miracles and those of pretenders; who have never attempted to establish a new religion by them, or to convert unbelievers hostile to their claims and able to examine them, without immediate exposure. But you never heard of an impostor standing up before the tribunal of his judges and alleging the miraculous cure of a well-known public beggar, lame from his mother's womb, whom they had seen at the church gate every Sabbath for forty years, and bringing the man into court after such a fashion as this, "If we this day be examined of the good deed done unto the impotent man, by what means he is made whole, be it known unto you all, and to all the people of Israel, that by the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, whom ye crucified, whom God raised from the dead, even by him doth this man stand before you whole." Such an appeal was unanswerable. "Beholding the man that was healed standing with them, they could say nothing against it." Nay, they were compelled to acknowledge "that indeed a notable miracle hath been done by them is manifest to all them that dwell in Jerusalem--we can not deny it."--Acts iv. The denial of the miracles of the gospel is a modern invention of the enemy. The scribes, and priests, emperors, and philosophers of the first centuries, who had the best opportunity of proving their falsehood, were unable to do so. The persecutors and apostates, whose malice against the Church knew no bounds, never dared to utter a charge of deception against the apostles. Why, then, you ask, did they not all become Christians? Because miracles can not convert any man against his will. Christianity is not merely a belief in miracles, but the love of Christ, and a life of holiness. There are many readers of this book who would not turn from their sins if all the dead in Spring Grove Cemetery would rise to-morrow to warn them from hell. God does not intend to force any man to become a Christian. He just gives evidence enough to try you, whether you will deal honestly and fairly with your own soul and your God, and if you are determined to hate Christ and his holy religion, you shall never want a plausible excuse for unbelief; as it is written, "Unto them which are disobedient, Christ is a stone of stumbling and a rock of offense." These ancient enemies of Christ acknowledged the reality of his miracles, but attributed them to magical power, or the help of Satan. The Jews said that he had acquired the power of miracles by learning to pronounce the incommunicable name of God. Modern Infidels deny all his miracles save the greatest--the turning of men from their sins. They can not deny that; they can not ascribe it to the power of Satan or of magic, for they do not believe in either; but they follow as nearly in the footsteps of their fathers as possible, when they tell us that multitudes of men, in every age, and in every land, have been turned from falsehood to truth by the belief of a lie, and from vice to virtue by the example of an impostor! 6. But the strongest proof of the truth of the facts of the gospel is the existence, the labors and sufferings of the apostles themselves. Nobody denies that such men lived, and preached, and were persecuted on account of their preaching that Jesus died and rose again. Now, if this was a falsehood, what motive had they to tell it? It was very displeasing to their rulers who had crucified him, and who had every inclination to give them the same treatment. To preach another king, one Jesus, to the Romans, was to bring down the power of the empire upon them. Nothing could be more absurd in the eyes of the Grecian philosophers than to speak of the resurrection of the body. Nor could any plan be devised more certain to arouse the fury of the pagan priesthood, than to denounce the craft by which they had their wealth, and to preach that they are no gods which are made by hands. The most degraded wretch, who perishes by the hand of the hangman is not so contemptible in our eyes, as the crucified malefactor was in the eyes of the Roman people; nor could anything more disagreeable to the Jewish nation be invented than the declaration, that the Gentiles should become partakers of the kingdom of God. What then should induce any man in his senses to provoke such an opposition to a new religion, and to make it so contemptible and disagreeable to those whom he sought to convert, if he were manufacturing a lie to gain power and popularity? The religion they preached was not adapted to please sensual men, nor to allow its preachers in sensual gratifications. "Our exhortation," says Paul--and every reader of the New Testament knows that he says truth--"Our exhortation was not of deceit, nor of uncleanness, nor of guile." Infidels admit that they preached a pure morality. But it is a long time since men learned the proverb, "Physician, heal thyself." "Thou that preachest a man should not steal, dost thou steal? Thou that sayest a man should not commit adultery, dost thou commit adultery? Thou that abhorrest idols, dost thou commit sacrilege?" It could not, then, be to obtain license for lust that these men preached holiness. There is only one other conceivable motive which should induce men to confederate together for the propagation of falsehood--the design of making money by it. But their new religion made no provision for any such thing. One of their first acts was to desire the church to elect deacons who might manage its money matters, and allow them to give themselves wholly to prayer and to the ministry of the word. Twenty-five years after that they could appeal to the world that "Even to this present hour, we" (the Apostles) "both hunger and thirst, and are naked, and are buffeted, and have no certain dwelling-place, and labor working with our hands; being reviled, we bless; being persecuted, we suffer it: we are counted as the filth of the world, and the offscouring of all things to this day." Their book opens with the story of their Master's birth in a stable, with the manger for his cradle, and one of its last pictures is that of his venerable apostle chained in a dungeon, and begging his friend to bring his old cloak from Troas, and to do his diligence to come before winter. Unpopular, pure, and penniless, if the gospel story were not true, how could it have had preachers? They at least believed it. The last and most convincing testimony which any man can give to the truth of a statement of fact is to suffer rather than deny it. Many have wondered why God allowed his dear servants to suffer so much persecution in the first ages of the Church. One principal reason was to give future ages an irresistible proof of the sincerity and faithfulness of the witnesses for Christ. The apostles lived lives of persecution and suffering for the name of Jesus; sufferings which they might have avoided if they had only abstained from preaching any more in this name. But, said they, "We can not but speak of the things which we have seen and heard." One who had no personal acquaintance with Jesus, and whose first interview with him was while he was breathing out threatening and slaughter against the disciples of the Lord, is converted and called to be an apostle; and behold the prospect Jesus presents to him, "I will show him _how great things he must suffer for my name_." "The Holy Ghost testifieth," says Paul, "that in every city bonds and afflictions abide me. Yet none of these things move me." That at least was a true prophecy. "Seven times," says Clement, "he was in bonds, he was whipt, he was stoned; he preached both in the East and West, leaving behind him the glorious report of his faith, and so having taught the whole world righteousness, and for that end traveled even to the utmost bounds of the West, he at last suffered martyrdom by the command of the governors, and went to his holy place, having become a most eminent pattern of patience to all ages."[80] Hear his own appeal to those who envied his authority in the church, "Are they ministers of Christ, I am more: in labors more abundant, in stripes above measure, in prisons more frequent, in deaths often. Of the Jews five times received I forty stripes save one. Thrice was I beaten with rods, once was I stoned, thrice I suffered shipwreck, a night and a day I have been in the deep: in journeyings often, in perils of waters, in perils of robbers, in perils by my own countrymen, in perils by the heathen, in perils in the city, in perils in the wilderness, in perils in the sea, in perils among false brethren; in weariness and painfulness, in watchings often, in hunger and thirst, in cold and nakedness."--1 Corinthians ii. 23. Man can give no higher proof of his veracity, than a life such as this, unless it is to seal it with his blood; and this crowning testimony to the truth the apostles gave. Save the aged disciple, who, after torments worse than death, survived to address the persecuted church as, "Your companion in tribulation, and in the kingdom and patience of Jesus Christ," they all suffered martyrdom for the truth of the gospel history. Let me again remind you that the gospel is not a collection of dogmas, but a relation of facts; that these twelve men did not preach the death and resurrection of Jesus, because they had read them in a creed, but because they had seen them with their own eyes; that they lived holy lives of toil, and hardship, and poverty, and suffering, in preaching these facts to the world; and that they died painful and shameful deaths as martyrs for their truth. You admit these things. Then I demand of you, "What more could either God or man do to convince you of their truthfulness?" The faithful and true witness himself has given you this last, undeniable test of veracity. With the certainty of an ignominious death before him, he solemnly swears to the truth of this fact, and dies for it. "And the high priest answered and said unto him, I adjure thee by the living God, that thou tell us whether thou be the Christ, the Son of God? Jesus saith unto him, Thou hast said. Hereafter ye shall see the Son of Man sitting on the right hand of power, and coming in the clouds of heaven." Unbeliever, are you prepared to meet him there, and prove him a perjured impostor? FOOTNOTES: [80] Wake's Trans. of Clement, Ep. ad Cor. v. CHAPTER VIII. PROPHECY. "In fifty years all Europe will be either Cossack, or Republican." So prophesied the most sagacious of modern politicians, by the inspiration of genius, calculating the prospects of the future by the light of his past experience. This prediction of Napoleon's is a very fair specimen of the oracles of human sagacity; which always overlooks the most stupendous facts--such as the conversion of an empire--and the commonest experiences--such as the birth of a brace of conflicting twins from the womb of the Rachel of revolution, when history happens to predict the failure of the self-elected conquering savior. Man learns to believe whatever he fondly desires, to expect what he believes, and to predict what he expects. His predictions are the mirrors which photograph his own moods of mind, rather than views through a telescope directed to the distant cloud-capped mountains of futurity. But it is confidently asserted that the science of party politics is simply the exercise of the gift of prophetic vision on the theater of civil life; and that a sagacious politician is, within his own sphere, a prophet. He applies the conditions of the past, so far as he knows them, to the calculation of the future. His success proves his sagacity, not his supernatural inspiration. Why should religious predictions be attributed to a different power? For the very simple and satisfactory reason, that the great majority of the calculations of party politicians are failures, while the predictions of the Bible are verified by the event. Name a dozen leaders of American politics during the last half century, and you name half a score of disappointed presidential candidates, whose unfinished monuments prevent the kindly green sward of oblivion from vailing their disappointments, and check the prayer of the passing pilgrim that they may rest in peace; while of the last half dozen who have occupied the presidential chair, and guided the destinies of the most progressive half of the world, not a single man had been suggested by the political leaders even ten years before his election. No wonder politicians become shy of prediction. But it is alleged, that while on a field so contracted as to become the arena of mere personal partialities it is confessedly difficult to predict the future, on the wider field of the world's great interests, the well-known uniformity of human passions and interests render their results calculable to the sagacious statesman. Thus Draper argues, that nations, like the individuals composing them, have fixed periods of growth, manhood, decay, decrepitude, and death--more or less rapid, according to the stock and situation. Those who accept that dogma argue that all that is necessary in order to predict the fate of a nation is a correct calculation of its present age; whether of childhood, manhood, or senility. It is wonderful how rashly men will risk their reputation for common sense on the sound of a plausible analogy, which, even were it valid, would not justify the inference drawn from it. For, suppose that there were as fixed laws of national as of individual life, can any man predict the period of the life of any individual, much less his destiny? May not the life of the nation be as liable to accidents and diseases as that of the individual? But the claim has been actually made, that the skillful statesman, or philosophic observer, is able to foresee, and foretell, even such accidents. Dean Stanley quotes Mill as suggesting an ordinary sign of statesmanship in modern times: "To have made predictions often verified by the event, seldom or never falsified by it." Others give a still wider range to prophetic inspiration. They tell us that all genius is prophetic, inasmuch as it grasps general laws, universal in their range, and unvariable in their operation, the application of which to particular events constitutes prediction. The Hebrew prophets were sagacious observers of human nature, and made very shrewd calculations of the future progress of events by a careful induction of the invariable laws of nature from the history of the past. But there was nothing supernatural in that. Every poet, philosopher, and statesman is more or less of a prophet. Indeed foresight, like insight, is common to all men: a superior degree of this common possession constitutes the prophet. Men of profound insight, or of extensive foresight, are equally rare in all departments of science. Ignorance ascribes to supernatural inspiration the sagacity derived from extensive observation of nature and history; while philosophy traces to the same source the inspiration of Moses and Mohammed, of Isaiah and Apollo, of the Principia, Paradise Lost, and the Apocalypse, of Rothschild, Napoleon, and Bismarck. Some geniuses expend themselves in poems, some in paintings, others in predictions. All are alike imperfect and fallible. Once in centuries, perhaps, we are astonished by the advent of a master, while occasional less perfect attempts and shrewd guesses keep the fires of ambition alive in the human breast. But if this were a correct account of the case we should have our best prophets as the result of our widest observations of nature and history; the best should come last. The prophets of this nineteenth century should be far ahead of Moses in prophetic foresight, standing as they do on the summit of the observatory built by the experience of forty centuries. Whereas, as a matter of fact, the world knows nothing about these modern prophets, or their predictions. The instances alleged by Rationalists are contemptibly trivial when compared with the Bible predictions. Contrast, for instance, Cayotte's alleged prediction, that the fate of Charles would befall Louis XVI., and that the rabble would fill Paris with anarchy--with Daniel's grand historic outline of the four great empires; or with our Savior's detailed prediction of the siege of Jerusalem. Cayotte's guess commanded no respect, even while the coming event cast its shadow before it; nor did he profess to utter it in the name of the Great Disposer of all events as the seal and authentication of a revelation of moral duty to man; and so it was of no value to those threatened by the calamity. But our Lord's predictions were so authoritative in their tone, and so definite in their details, that they enabled his disciples to escape the impending destruction at that time; and their fulfillment has furnished a decisive proof of his divine foresight to all generations. We are told by men who could not read one of Apollo's oracles to save their lives, nor recite one of Isaiah's prophecies to save their souls, that Apollo's oracles, no less than Isaiah's, were inspired. Could such persons be prevailed upon to read carefully any single prophetic book of Scripture, with the historic facts to which it refers, or even the briefest abridgment of these facts, such as that contained in The Comprehensive Commentary, they would not thus expose their ignorance alike of heathen and Christian oracles. The differences between them are too numerous to be easily enumerated. The oracles of the heathen are always sources of gain to their prophets. The ancient Pythoness must have a hecatomb, the writing medium a dollar, and the modern Pythoness of the platform a dime. But under the inspiration of God even a Balaam becomes honest, and the leprosy of Naaman marks the sordid Gehazi and his seed forever. The oracles of the heathen are always immoral in their tendency. From the first spiritual communication through the serpent medium in the tree of knowledge, down to the last spiritual marriage rapped out by the oracle, they are all in favor of pride, ambition, lying, lust, and murder. The oracles of God begin with a prohibition of curiosity, pride, covetousness, and theft: "In the day thou eatest thereof thou shalt surely die." And they are uniformly of the same tenor, forbidding, reproving, threatening vice, and encouraging virtue, down to the last: "Blessed are they that do his commandments, that they may have right to the tree of life, and may enter in through the gates into the city; for without are dogs, and sorcerers, and whoremongers, and murderers, and idolaters, and whosoever loveth and maketh a lie." This last mark--falsehood--belongs to all heathen oracles, from the first utterance by the serpent, down to the last response rapped out by the medium. Take any one heathen oracle of which we have any definite account--and the number is very small--and you will find that, if it is not "as equivocal as Apollo," _it is false_. For instance, Dean Stanley very confidently refers to certain heathen oracles, "the fulfillment of which, according to Cicero, could not be denied without a perversion of all history. Such was the foreshadowing of the twelve centuries of Roman dominion, by the legend of the apparition of the twelve vultures to Romulus, which was so understood 400 years before its accomplishment." Comparing the prophetic predictions with such fables, he says: "_It is not that they are more exact in particulars of time and place_; none can be more so than that of the twelve centuries of the Roman Empire."[81] The oracle thus exalted to a level with the predictions of our Lord and his apostles is quoted by Censorinus,[82] A. D. 238, from Varro, who died B. C. 28. Varro stated that he had heard Vettius, no common augur, of great genius in disputing, a match with any of the most learned, say, "If it was so, as the historians related, as to the auguries of the founding of the city of Romulus and the twelve vultures, since the Roman people had passed 120 years safe, it would reach 1,200." Dean Stanley misquotes the oracle, and does injustice to the old heathen prophet. He spake no word whatever about _dominion_; all he dared conjecture for his city was _safety_. Even that is put in a highly hypothetical mood. The augury begins with an "if," regarding the apocryphal story of Romulus and the twelve vultures. But whether the fable of the vultures be true or not, the augury of twelve centuries of safety deduced from it is undeniably false, whether it refers to the material city, or to the political constitution then established. The city then built was burnt by Brennus, the Gaul. Its successor was taken and plundered by Alaric, in A. D. 410; again by Genseric, and the Vandals, in 455; and again by the Ostrogoths, in 546. Thus the material city was repeatedly taken and destroyed during the twelve centuries succeeding its founding. If the augury referred to the duration of the political constitution then instituted, every school-boy knows that half a dozen revolutions falsified the prediction. If, however, it be alleged that it referred to the ultimate fate of the city of Rome, that it should cease to exist after twelve centuries, it is self-evidently false; for now, after the lapse of twenty-six centuries, Rome is larger, its people more numerous, and its territory wider than it was for centuries after Romulus saw the twelve vultures. Thus God "frustrateth the tokens of the liars." Yet men who have read Roman history, and whose business it is to read their Bibles, continue to cite Vettius Valens as a prophet, and to compare his false auguries with the predictions of the Scriptures of truth! This is only one of a number of such secular predictions confidently cited by the learned Dean as having been as minute and specific as those of Scripture, and undeniably fulfilled. But a scholar of his own church has examined his references and alleged facts, and the result is, that not a single instance remains of the fulfillment of any definite prediction given by the original writers; and where the transcriber and the Dean have helped them out to a more definite prediction, it has proved a false prophecy, as in the case of Sterling's and Spence's prediction of the year of the disruption of the Union of the United States. Dr. Pusey summarizes this discussion in his work on Daniel (p. 637), from which we extract and condense the following paragraphs on this subject: "Dean Stanley produces a certain number of alleged predictions in secular history, as counterparts of the predictions of _the political events_ of their own, and the surrounding nations," in the Hebrew prophets, _i. e._ (in religious language), "of God's judgments upon both for their sins against himself and their fellow-men." He says, "Every one knows instances, both in ancient and modern times, of predictions which have been uttered, and fulfilled, in regard to events of this kind. Sometimes such predictions have been the results of political foresight. Many instances will occur to students of history. Even within our own memory the great catastrophe of the disruption of the United States of America _was foretold, even with the exact date, several years beforehand_. Sometimes there has been an anticipation of some future epoch in the pregnant sayings of eminent philosophers and poets; as for example the intimation of the discovery of America by Seneca; or of Shakespeare by Plato; or the Reformation by Dante. Sometimes the result has been produced by the power of divination, granted in some inexplicable manner to ordinary men. Of such a kind were many of the ancient oracles, the fulfillment of which, according to Cicero, could not be denied without a perversion of history. Such was the foreshadowing of the twelve centuries of Roman dominion by the legend of the apparition of the twelve vultures to Romulus, which was so understood 400 years before its actual accomplishment. Such, but with less certainty, was the traditional prediction of the conquest of Constantinople by the Mussulmans; the alleged predictions by Archbishop Malachi, whether composed in the eleventh or sixteenth centuries, of the series of popes down to the present time; not to speak of the well-known instances which are recorded both in French and English history. But there are several points which at once place the prophetic predictions on a different level from any of these. _It is not that they are more exact in particulars of time and place_; none can be more so than that of the twelve centuries of the Roman Empire; and our Lord himself has excluded the precise knowledge of times and seasons from the widest and highest range of prophetic vision." (Jewish Church, 463. The Bible: its Form and Substance, pages 80, 82.) "It might safely be admitted," says Dr. Pusey, "that the outward predictions of time and place are of the body, rather than of the soul of prophecy, yet as indications that he revealed himself, who alone could know long before what he willed to bring to pass by his Providence, the predictions of the Hebrew prophets are not to be paralleled by any human history. "Definite predictions of the Hebrew prophets have been instanced above. Dr. Stanley's instances of secular fulfillment are unhappy." He then proceeds to examine in their turn the political, poetic, Popish, Mohammedan, and heathen oracles quoted by Dean Stanley. _I. The Political Predictions._ Sterling, as quoted by Mr. Spence, so far from predicting the great catastrophe of the disruption of the United States _at the end_ of the four years, says that no wise man would predict anything even within those four years. "It appears to me that amid so many elements of uncertainty as to the future, both from the excited state of men's minds in the States themselves, and the complication of surrounding circumstances, no wise man would venture to foretell the probable issue of American affairs during the next four years." (On the American Union, page 14.) And this was written amid all the heavings which preceded the bursting of the volcano. It followed, after statesmen had, one after another, seen the elements of that disruption. The probability of the severance of the North and South has been a speculation to which the older of us have long been familiar. And now [1864] who would venture to predict the time of the close of that sad war? (First edition.) Now [1865] that it has come to an end Americans taunt Europeans with their want of foresight in their anticipations as to its issue. The _Times_ correspondent retorts as to false anticipations of Americans--(1) that the issue would not interfere with slavery; (2) that there would be separation without bloodshed; (3) that the war would last only some ninety days; (4) that the United States would break up into fragments (Northern); (5) they contemplated that the interests of trade would suffice for the harmony of North and South when separated, etc., etc. June 6, 1865. Europeans almost universally anticipated the success of the South. So little did the human sagacity of men really sagacious, with intimate knowledge of the strength of the different parties, their numbers, resources, and all the calculations as to modern warfare, enable them to anticipate within half a year the result of a war, which, through the vivid description of it, and clear knowledge, was carried on almost under their eyes. And these men would have us to suppose that Hebrew prophets, living in the center of a small people, could, with mere human knowledge, foretell with absolute certainty the overthrow of flourishing empires, when at the acme of their power! _II. The So-called Prophecies of S. Malachi._ These have long been recognized to be a forgery, unmeaning except for the immediate purpose for which they were "forged by the partisans of the Cardinal Simoncelli, one of the candidates for the tiara, who was designated by the words 'de antiquitate orbis,' because he was of Orvieto, in Latin, 'orbs vetus.'" (Biog. Unv'l v. Wion.) Menestrier published a refutation of the pretended prophecies of S. Malachi, Paris, 1689, written with much solidity. Don Feijoo also refuted these pretended prophecies in his _Teatro Critico_. The Noveau Dictionnaire Historique, by MM. Chaudon and Delaudine, speaks of the "errors and anachronisms with which this impertinent list swarms." "The forgetfulness of common sense makes itself felt in a few pages. Those who have set themselves to explain these too noted insipidities, always find some allusion, forced or probable, in the country, name, arms, birth, talents of the popes, the cardinalatory dignities they had borne, etc.; _e. g._, the prophecy which related to Urban the Eighth was, _Lilium et Rosæ_." It was fulfilled to the very letter, say these absurd interpreters, for that pope had in his coat of arms bees, which suck lilies and roses. (Art. Malachi and Wion.) III. Dr. Pusey proceeds to examine the process by which a prediction of _the conquest of Constantinople_ has been manufactured for the false prophet, Mohammed. "In the mosque of Sultan Mohammed the Second," says V. Hammer, "which was finished A. D. 1469, there stands, to the right of the main door, on a marble slab, on an azure field, in gold raised characters, the tradition of the prophet relating to Constantinople. 'They _will conquer_ Constantinople; and blessed the prince, blessed the army which shall fulfill this.'" (Constant v. d. Bosporos I. 393.) Or (as he renders more exactly in Gesch d. Osm. Reich, p. 523), "the best prince is he who conquers it, and the best army, his army." This tradition, being above eight centuries after Mohammed, has, of course, no value. It reappears in a different form in Ockley, the conquest being presupposed, rather than prophesied. Ockley says (History of Saracens, II. 128), "Mohammed having said, 'The sins of the first army which takes the city of the Cæsar are forgiven.'" Ockley referring only vaguely to Bokhari, who, early in the third century, after Mohammed selected 7,000 traditions which he held to be genuine, out of some 267,000, I applied to my friend, M. Reinaud, professor of Arabic at Paris, and member of the Institute, not doubting that with his large knowledge he would be able to point out to me the passage in the _Sahih_. This, with his well-known kindness, he has done, amid his many labors. It puts an end to all questions about prophecy. The passage is this: As Omm Heram has related to us that she heard the prophet say, "The first army of my people which shall war by sea will acquire merits with God, Omm Heram said, 'I said, O Apostle of God, I will be among them.' He said, 'Thou shalt be among them.' Then the prophet said, 'The first army of my people which shall attack the city of the Cæsar, their sins shall be forgiven them.' Then I said, 'I will be with them, O Apostle of God.' He said, 'No!'" M. Reinaud adds, "There is no question but that Mohammed conceived the idea of the invasion of the Roman Empire, and of the kingdom of Persia by his disciples. He himself shortly before his death tried his strength against the Roman forces in Syria. But the passage does not say what Ockley makes him say. It does not say that Constantinople would be taken." The other prophecy referred to by Von Hammer is as follows: "Have you heard of a city of which one side is land, the two others sea? They said, 'Yea, O Apostle of God.' He said, 'The last hour will not come without its being conquered by 70,000 sons of Isaac. When they come to it they will not fight against it with weapons and engines of war, but with the word, There is no god but God, and God is great!' Then will one side of the sea walls fall; and at the second time the second; and at the third time the wall on the land side; and they will enter in with gladness." The framer of this prophesy expected the walls of Constantinople to fall like those of Jericho, which he must have had in mind. He expected it to fall before Arabs, "sons of Isaac," not before Turks. * * * Yet, contrary to the expectation, and the prophecy, it did fall before the Turks, after having been seven times besieged by the Arabs, and four times by the Turks; by whom it was taken A. D. 1453. The framer of the prediction anticipated that the representatives of the followers of the prophet would be Arabs to some indefinite period, near the last hour; he expected a miraculous destruction of Constantinople; it was besieged seven times by those before whose war-cry he expected it to fall. It did not fall before those before whom he said it would fall; it fell in an ordinary way, not in that predicted; it was besieged in the way in which he said it would not be besieged; lastly, it fell, but its walls fell not. _Every detail of the prediction is contrary to the fact._ As for the mere capture, it befalls all great cities in turn; so that a prediction of the capture of any great city would be the safest of all prophecies. But the prediction did not anticipate, what is now certain, that as soon as Christian jealousies permit, before the end of the world, it will be wrested from its captors. IV. The legend of Romulus and the vultures, and the falsehood of the prediction based upon it, have been exposed on a previous page. V. In regard to Seneca's alleged prediction of the discovery of America, it was exceedingly vague; and was wholly based on the undoubted knowledge of its existence by the ancient Egyptians, and by Plato, Proclus, Marcellus, Ammianus, Marcellinus, Diodorus, Aristotle, and Plutarch; whose assertions influenced Columbus to undertake the search for it. Nothing could be more certain than that such a continent would be rediscovered. But in the only indication which Seneca gives us of its location he erred; for Thule is still the utmost land northward, no new continent having been discovered, nor remaining to be discovered, toward the North Pole. VI. As to the heathen oracles we have already spoken enough. VII. "The anticipation of Shakespeare by Plato amounts to this, that he makes Socrates compel his friends to admit, 'that it belongs to the same man, how to compose comedy and tragedy, and that he who is by skill a composer of tragedies is also a composer of comedies.' (Sympos fin.) * * * But it is mere confusion to speak of this as _anticipation_. Plato does not say that there would be any greater combination of the two talents than there had been; he does not even say that the highest excellence in one involved excellence in the other; he simply says that the two faculties belonged to the same mind. According to his maxims, if true, it would be rather marvelous that they were not more frequently combined than that they were remarkably in one mind." VIII. "Those best read in Dante are at a loss to find in him any trace of a prediction of the Reformation. Dante, with his firm faith in all Roman doctrine, could not have imagined or anticipated such a disruption as Luther's. Dean Stanley corrects an unimportant misprint or two in the second edition of his book, on the ground of the above statements. He does not even attempt to supply a passage from Dante. I have looked for one in vain." Yet such a collection of errors, absurdities, falsehoods, and impostures is gravely presented, in this nineteenth century, by a learned clergyman, as comparable in regard to exact fulfillment with the oracles of God. It is not intended here to discuss the question of the continuance of prophetic powers in the Church. If, as many believe, the promise in Joel ii. 28--"It shall come to pass in the last days, saith God, that your sons and your daughters shall prophesy," etc.--is a promise not yet exhausted, predictions given by the Holy Spirit may have been given through Christians in former times, and may still be given. But if such be the fact, these are not secular predictions; but spiritual and supernatural, and of the same class with those of Scripture; they are therefore not to be cited by Rationalists as examples of secular prediction. But it is objected that "the prophecies of Scripture are as obscure as the oracles; are all wrapped up in symbolical language; that many of them have a double meaning; that no two interpreters are agreed as to the meaning of the unfulfilled predictions; and that no man can certainly foretell any future event by means of them." The objection proceeds on a total mistake of the nature and design of prophecy, which is not to unvail the future for the gratification of your curiosity, but to give you direction in your present duty; precisely the reverse of the oracles referred to, which proposed to tell their votaries what should happen, but rarely condescended to direct them how to behave themselves so that things might happen well. The larger part of the prophecies of Scripture is taken up with directions to men how to regulate their conduct, rather than with information how God means to regulate his. There is just as much of the latter as is sufficient to show us that the God who gave the Bible governs the world, and even that always urges the same moral lesson: "Say ye to the righteous that it shall be well with him, for he shall eat the fruit of his doings." "Woe to the wicked; it shall be ill with him, for the reward of his hands shall be given him." Whenever a vision relates to what God will do in the distant future, it is dark and mysterious; but whenever any directions are given necessary for our immediate duty, then the "vision is written and made plain on tables, _that he may run that readeth it_." The possessors of a clearly engrossed title-deed have surely no reason to complain that the president has chosen that his seal appended to it shall consist of a device, which, by reason of its being hard to read, and harder to imitate, secures both himself and them against forgery. The double meaning of some prophecies is a double check. So far from resembling the equivocations of heathen oracles, by taking either of two opposite events for a fulfillment, they require both of two corresponding ones; and some prophecies, like a master key, open several successive events, and thus show that the same mind planned both locks and key. When the prediction is fulfilled all mystery vanishes, and men see plainly that thus it was written; that is to say, men who look; for the man who will not open his eyes will never see anything that it concerns him to know. But the man who thinks that it concerns him so much to know what God will do with the world a hundred years after he is dead, that unless the prophecies of the Bible are all made plain to him, he will neither read God's word, nor obey his law, may go on his own way. We expound no mysteries to such persons; for it is written, "None of the wicked shall understand." As to the objection taken from the symbolical language of prophecy, and which seems to a number of our modern critics so weighty that they remove to the purely mythologic ground everything "couched in symbolical language," and account nothing to be prediction unless "literal history written in advance"--I would merely ask, How is it possible to reveal heavenly things to earth-born men but by earthly figures? Do you know a single word in your own, or any other language to express a spiritual state, or mental operation, that is not the name of some material state, or physical operation, used symbolically? Heart, soul, spirit, idea, memory, imagination, inclination, etc., every one of them a figure of speech--a symbol. Nay, is there a letter in your own, or in any other alphabet, that was not originally a picture of something? I demand to know in what way God or man could teach you to know anything you have never seen, but by either showing you a picture of it, or telling you what it is like? That is simply by type or symbol; these are the only possible media of conveying heavenly truth, or future history to our minds. When, therefore, the skeptic insists that prophecy be given literally, in the style of history written in advance, he simply requires that God would make it utterly unintelligible. We can gather clear and definite ideas from the significant hieroglyphics of symbolical language, but the literalities of history written in advance would be worse to decipher than the arrow-headed inscriptions of Nineveh. Just imagine to yourself Alexander the Great reading Guizot, instead of Daniel; or Hildreth, as being less mysterious than Ezekiel; and meeting, for instance, such a record as this: "In the year of Christ, 1847, the United States conquered Mexico and annexed California." "In the year of Christ--what new Olympiad may be that?" he would say. "The United States of course means the States of the Achæn League, but on what shore of the Euxine may Mexico and California be found?" What information could Aristotle gather from the record that, "In 1857, the Transatlantic Telegraph was in operation?" Could all the augurs in the seven-hilled city have expounded to Julius Cæsar the famous dispatch, if intercepted in prophetic vision, "Sebastopol was evacuated last night, after enduring for three days an infernal fire of shot and shell?" Nay, to diminish the vista to even two or three centuries, what could Oliver Cromwell, aided by the whole Westminster Assembly, have made of a prophetic vision of a single newspaper paragraph of history written in advance, to inform them that, "Three companies of dragoons came down last night from Berwick to Southampton, by a special train, traveling 54-1/2 miles an hour, including stoppages, and embarked immediately on arrival. The fleet put to sea at noon, in the face of a full gale from the S. W.?" Why, the intelligible part of this single paragraph would seem to them more impossible, and the unintelligible part more absurd, than all the mysterious symbols of the Apocalypse. The world has accepted God's symbols thousands of years ago, and it is too late in the day for our reformers to propose new laws of thought, and forms of speech, to the human race. David's prophetic lyrics, Christ's graphic parables, Isaiah's celestial anthems, Ezekiel's glorious symbols, and Solomon's terse proverbs, will be recited and admired, ages after the foggy abstractions of mystified metaphysicians have vanished from the earth. The Thirst of Passion, the Cup of Pleasure, the Fountain of the Water of Life, the Blood of Murder, the Rod of Chastisement, the Iron Scepter, the Fire of Wrath, the Balance of Righteousness, the Sword of Justice, the Wheels of Providence, the Conservative Mountains, the Raging Seas of Anarchy, and the Golden, Brazen, and Iron Ages, will reflect their images in truth's mirror, and photograph their lessons on memory's tablet, while the mists of the "positive philosophy," "the absolute," and "the conditioned," float past unheeded, to the land of forgetfulness. God's prophetic symbols are the glorious embodiments of living truths, while man's philosophic abstractions are the melancholy ghosts of expiring nonsense. The prophetic symbols are sufficiently plain to be distinctly intelligible _after_ the fulfillment, as we shall presently see; sufficiently obscure to baffle presumptuous curiosity before it. Had they been so written as to be fully intelligible beforehand, they must have interfered with man's free agency, by causing their own fulfillment. They hide the future sufficiently to make man feel his ignorance; they reveal enough to encourage faith in the God who rules futurity. The revelation of future events, however, is not the principal design of the prophecies of the Bible; they bear witness to God's powerful present influence over the world now. For God's prophecy is not merely his foretelling something which will certainly happen at some future time, but over which he has no control--as an astronomer foretells an eclipse of the sun, but can neither hasten nor hinder it--but it is his revealing of a part of his plan of this world's affairs, to show that God, and not man, is the sovereign of this world. For this purpose he tells beforehand the actions which wicked men, of their own free will, will commit, contrary to his law, and the measures he will take to thwart their designs, and fulfill his own. Nay, he declares he will so manage matters that, without their knowledge, and even contrary to their intentions, heathen armies, and infidel scoffers shall serve his purposes, and show his power; while yet they are as perfectly voluntary in all their movements as if they, and not God, governed the world. Every fulfilled prophecy thus becomes an instance and evidence of a supernatural government; and is, to a thinking mind, a greater miracle than casting mountains into the sea. The style of prophecy corresponds to this design. It is not by any means apologetic, or supplicating; but, on the contrary, majestic, convincing, and terrifying to the ungodly. "_Remember this and show yourselves men. Bring it again to mind, O ye transgressors. For I am God, and there is none else. I am God, and there is none like me. Declaring the end from the beginning, And from, ancient times the things that are not yet done, Saying_, 'MY COUNSEL SHALL STAND, AND I WILL DO ALL MY PLEASURE.'"[83] Infidels feel the power of this manifestation of God in his word; and are driven to every possible denial of the fact, and evasion of the argument drawn from it. They feel instinctively that Bible prophecies are far more than mere predictions. They would rather endow every human being on earth with the power of predicting the future than allow the God of heaven that power of ruling the present which these prophecies assert. Hence the attempt to admit their predictive truth, and yet deny their divine authority, by ascribing them to human sagacity. Transatlantic steam navigation has produced a remarkable change in the tone of Infidel writers and speakers in regard to the prophecies of the Bible. You could not converse long with an Infidel on this subject, a few years ago, until he would assure you, with all confidence, that the prophecies were all written after their fulfillment, and so were not prophecies at all. But now that travelers of all classes, scoffers, sailors, and doctors in divinity, scientific expeditions, and correspondents of daily papers, have flooded the world with undeniable attestations that many of them are receiving their fulfillment at this day, none but the most grossly ignorant and stupid attempt to deny that the prophecies of the Bible were written thousands of years since, and that many of them have since been accomplished; and that so many have been fulfilled that their accomplishment can not be ascribed to chance. But the force of the argument for the divine inspiration of the prophets is met by the assertion, that there is nothing supernatural in prophecy, and that it is only one form of the inspiration of genius applying the general laws of nature. Calculating securely on that profound ignorance of the Bible which characterizes their followers, modern writers inform them that "none of the prophets ever uttered any distinct, definite, unambiguous prediction of any future event which has since taken place, which a man without a miracle could not equally well predict." It is alleged that the prophecies, in predicting the overthrow of the nations of antiquity, predicted nothing beyond the ken of human sagacity, enlightened by a careful study of the experience of the past, and the invariable laws of nature; that it requires no inspiration to foretell the decay of perishing things; that the invariable progress of all things, empires as well as individuals, is first upward, through a period of youthful vigor and energy, then onward through a period of ripe maturity, and then downward, through a gradual decay, and final dissolution, to the inevitable grave. The world's history is but a history of the decline and fall of nations. 1. Now, if this be true, it is an awful truth for the Infidel, for _it sweeps away the last vestige of a foundation of his hope for eternity_. The only reason any unbeliever in Revelation could ever give, or that modern Rationalists do give, for their hope of a happy eternity, is the analogy of nature--the alleged constant progress of all things toward perfection in this world. It is an awkward truth that individually we must die, and the worms crawl over us; but then the wretched fate of the individual was to be compensated by the glorious progress of the race onward and ever onward and upward; from the fungus to the frog, and from the frog to the monkey, from the monkey to the man, from the noble savage wild in woods, to the pastoral tribe, thence to the empire and the federal republic, and finally to the reign of individual and passional attraction, and union with the sum of all the intelligences of the universe, through a constant progress toward infinite perfection. But, alas! it seems it was a false analogy, an ill-observed fact, a delusion; the course of nature is all the other way. The tendency of all perishing things is not to perfection, but to perdition; and it needs no inspiration to tell that man's loftiest towers, and strongest cities, and proudest empires will come to ruin; or that the most polished, powerful, and populous nations of antiquity will dwindle down into Turks, Moors, and Egyptians. Here is a fact of awful omen. Death reigns in this world of ours; death moral, social, political, and physical, has ever trampled upon man, proud man, learned man, civilized man, over all the plans of man, over every man, and over every association of men, even the largest, the widest, the mightiest. And now the Infidel, having taken away our hope of help from heaven, comes with the serpent's hiss, and fiendish sneer, to taunt the perishing world with this miserable truism--that the tendency of everything on earth is to perdition, and that it needs no inspiration to tell it. Truly it does not. Were that all the prophets of God had to tell us--as it is all the prophets of Infidelity can prophecy--we had as little need for the one as for the other. Earthquake and hurricane, volcano and valley flood, autumn frosts and winter blasts, fever, consumption, war, and pestilence, the grave-yard and the charnel-house, the Parthenon and the Pyramids, the silent cities of Colorado, and the buried palaces of Assyria, unite to attest this awful doom. But what reason has the skeptic to believe that this invariable law of nature shall ever be repealed, and this inevitable progress of all things to perdition be arrested? Why may not men be as selfish, and filthy, and grasping, and murderous in the other world, as they are in this? Why may not the course of nature be as fatal to the sinner's prosperity there as it is here? Why may not the progress of the proud empires and spheres of futurity be such as the skeptic declares the progress of the past to have been, so invariably toward dissolution and death, that it shall need no inspiration to predict its course downward, downward, ever downward, to endless perdition? Stand forward, skeptic, and point the world to an instance in which an ungodly nation has stemmed this all-destroying torrent of ruin; or acknowledge that all you can promise the nations of the world to come, from your experience of the invariable laws of nature, is _perdition, endless perdition_. 2. It is manifest, however, that this destruction of nations and desolation of empires must have had a beginning some time or other. Nations could not perish before they had grown, nor empires be destroyed till they had accumulated; and during all this period of their growth and vigor the experience of mankind would never lead them to predict their ruin. The sagacious observer, beholding Babylon, Nineveh, Damascus, and Tyre, growing and flourishing during a period of a thousand years past, could have had no reason from such an experience to expect anything else than a thousand years of prosperity to come. Especially impossible is it for human sagacity, enlightened by experience, to predict _unexampled_ desolations, destructions such as the world had never witnessed. _Now the predictions of the Bible are predictions of unexampled desolations, and unparalleled ruin of empires._ The desolation of any extensive region of the earth, or the overthrow of any great nation, was an event absolutely unknown to the world when the prophets of the Bible began to utter their predictions; unless the skeptic will allow the truth of the Bible record of the prediction and execution of the deluge, and the destruction of Sodom. War and conquest had indeed caused some provinces to change masters; one nation had made marauding invasions on others, and carried off cattle and slaves; but the result of the greatest military operation of which we have any record, at the commencement of the prophetic era--the conquest of Palestine by the Israelites--so far from desolating the region, or exterminating the people, had been merely to increase its productiveness, and to drive its former occupants to new settlements, where at that era they were fully able to cope with their former conquerors. Whatever the experience of thirty centuries may have since taught the nations concerning the certainty of the connection between national crime and national ruin, a long-suffering God had not then given any such signal examples of it, as those of which he gave warning by the prophets. The course of the nations and cities founded after the deluge had been regularly onward and prosperous, and they were just rising to the maturity of their power and splendor when Jonah, Micah, Hosea, and Isaiah, began to pronounce their sentences. They denounced desolation and solitude against nations more populous than this continent, one of whose cities enumerated more citizens than some of our proud commonwealths, and displayed buildings, a sight of whose crumbling ruins is deemed sufficient recompense for the perils of a journey of six thousand miles. The hundred churches of Cincinnati could all have been conveniently arranged in the basement of the temple of Belus; on the first floor our hundred thousand non-church-going citizens might have assembled to listen to a lecture on spiritualism from some eloquent Chaldean soothsayer; and the remaining seven stories would have still been open for the accommodation of the natives of the original Queen City. Every product of earth was trafficked in the markets of Tyre; a single Jewish house imported annually more gold than all the banks of this continent possess; and the whole coinage of the United States since 1793 would want a hundred millions of dollars of the value of the golden furniture of a single temple in Babylon. In fact, in the suburbs of Babylon or Nineveh, Washington or Cincinnati would have been insignificant villages; and the stone-fronted brick palaces of Broadway and the Fifth Avenue would make passable stables and haylofts for the mansions of Thebes or Petra. So far, therefore, from being the teaching of experience, there was nothing more utterly unexampled and unparalleled than the complete desolation of any nation at the time the prophets of Israel predicted such things. If the world has grown wiser since regarding the decline and fall of empires, it has gathered the best part of its sagacity from the prophecies. The degradation of the seed of Ham, and the colonization of Asia by the descendants of Japhet, were however undeniably predicted by Noah long before any examples or experiences of such things had occurred. Centuries after the degradation of Canaan had been predicted, his descendants were powerful, prosperous, and colonizing the shores of the world. But God foresaw, and compelled their ancestor to foretell, the corruption of the blood which would reduce his descendants to be servants of servants to their brethren; and now the ruins of their cities, and of the people descended from Canaan, are proverbial alike in the libraries and slave markets of the world. But on the other hand, the colonization of the world by the descendants of Japhet was as particularly predicted by Noah as the degradation of the Canaanites; and this can not be called a prediction of destruction, but rather of great prosperity: "God shall enlarge Japhet." Every emigrant ship which discharges its cargo at New York, and every new prairie farm in America, and every sheep ranch in Australia, and every new cattle kraal in South Africa fulfills the prediction: "He shall dwell in the tents of Shem." The various Greek, Roman, English, and Russian Empires of Asia attest the truth. From the Volga to the Amour, and from Hong Kong to Singapore, and from the Ganges to the Indus, Japhet to-day dwells in the tents of Shem. 3. The prophecies of the Bible are not vague general denunciations of natural decline and extinction to all the nations of the world, which, if they were merely the exposition of a universal _natural_ law of national death, they would be; nor yet the application of any such natural and inevitable law to some particular nation, denouncing its destruction, without any specification of time, manner, instrument, or cause of its infliction. They are all the applications of _moral law_--sentences pronounced on account of national wickedness. In every case the prophecy charges the crimes, and specifies the punishment, selected by the Judge of all the earth. The nations selected as examples of divine justice are as various as their sentences are different; covering a space as long as from Eastport to San Francisco, and climes as various as those between Canada and Cuba; peopled by men of every shade of color and degree of capacity, from the negro servant of servants, to the builders of the Coliseum, and the Pyramids. They minutely describe, in their own expressive symbols, the nations yet unfounded, and kings unborn, who should ignorantly execute the judgments of the Lord. They predict the futures of over thirty States, _no two of which are alike_; each prediction embracing a large number of minute particulars, any one of which was utterly beyond the range of human sagacity. To predict that a man will die may require no great sagacity; but to tell the year of his death, that he will die as a criminal, allege the crime for which he will be sentenced, the time, place, and manner of his execution, and the name of the sheriff who will execute the sentence, is plainly beyond the skill of man. Such is the character of Bible predictions. Zedekiah's sentence was thus pronounced; and thus, too, the sentences of nations doomed to ruin for their crimes are recorded in the Bible, that men may know that the mouth of the Lord hath spoken them. If, for instance, a prophet should declare that New York should be overturned, and become a little fishing village, and that her stones and timber, and her very dust, should be scraped off and thrown into the East River; that Philadelphia should become a swamp, and never be inhabited, from generation to generation; that Columbus should be deserted, and become a hog-pen; that Louisville should become a dry, barren desert; and New Orleans be utterly consumed with fire, and never be built again; that learning should depart from Boston, and no travelers ever pass through it any more; that New England should become the basest of the nations, and no native American ever be President of the Union, but that it should be a spoil and a prey to the most savage tribes; and that the Russians should tread Washington under foot for a thousand years; but that God would preserve Pittsburg in the midst of destruction--and if all these things should come to pass, would any man dare to deny that the prophet spake not the dictates of human sagacity, or the calculations of genius, but the words of God? To attempt to illustrate the divine wisdom displayed in a system of connected predictions, covering the destiny of the nations of the world, and extending from the dawn of history to the end of time, by presenting two or three instances of the fulfillment of specific predictions, would be something like exhibiting a fragment of a column as a monument of the skill of the architect of a temple; yet, as such a fragment may excite the curiosity of the traveler to visit the structure whence it was taken, I shall present two or three prophecies in which specific predictions are given, concerning the _geographical, political, social, and religious condition_ of three of the great nations of antiquity--_Egypt, Judea, and Babylon_--the fulfillment of which is spread over the surface of empires and the ruins of cities, patent to all travelers at the present hour, and abundantly attested in many volumes.[84] Could human sagacity have calculated that Egypt--the most defensible country in the world, bounded on the south by inaccessible mountains, on the east by the Red Sea, on the west by the trackless, burning desert; able to defend the mouths of her river with a powerful navy, and to drown an invading army every year by the inundation of the Nile; which had not only maintained her independence, but extended her conquests for a thousand years past, whose victorious king, Apries, had just sent an expedition against Cyprus, besieged and taken Gaza and Sidon, vanquished the Tyrians by sea, mastered Phoenicia and Palestine, and boasted that not even a god could deprive him of his possessions--Egypt, which had given arts, sciences, and idolatry to half the world, and which had not risen to the full height of its world-wide fame, or the extent of its influence for twenty-five years after the prediction[85]--that Egypt should be invaded, conquered, spoiled, become a prey to strangers and evermore to strangers, never have a native prince, sink into barbarism, renounce idolatry, and become famous for her desolations? Yet the Bible predictions are specific on all these matters: "_I will make the rivers dry, and sell the land into the hand of the wicked: and I will make the land waste, and all that is therein, by the hand of strangers: I the Lord have spoken it. Thus saith the Lord God; I will also destroy the idols, and I will cause the images to cease out of Noph; and there shall be no more a prince of the land of Egypt._"[86] Let Infidels read the fulfillment of these predictions, as described by Infidels: "Such is the state of Egypt. Deprived twenty-three centuries ago of her natural proprietors, she has seen her fertile fields successively a prey to the Persians, the Macedonians, the Romans, the Greeks, the Arabs, the Georgians, and at length the race of Tartars distinguished by the name of the Ottoman Turks. The Mamelukes, purchased as slaves and introduced as soldiers, soon usurped the power and selected a leader. If their first establishment was a singular event, their continuance is not less extraordinary; they are replaced by slaves brought from their original country."[87] Says Gibbon: "A more unjust and absurd constitution can not be devised than that which condemns the natives of the country to perpetual servitude under the arbitrary dominion of strangers and slaves. Yet such has been the state of Egypt about five hundred years. The most illustrious sultans of the Baharite and Beyite dynasties were themselves promoted from the Tartar and Circassian bands; and the four and twenty beys, or military chiefs, have ever been succeeded, not by their sons, but by their servants."[88] Mehemet Ali cut off the Mamelukes, but still Egypt is ruled by the Turks, and the present ruler (Ibrahim Pasha) is a foreigner. It is needless to remind the reader that the idols are cut off. Neither the nominal Christians of Egypt, nor the iconoclastic Moslem, allow images to appear among them. The rivers, too, are drying up. In one day's travel forty dry water-courses will be crossed in the Delta; and water-skins are needed now around the ruined cities whose walls were blockaded by Greek and Roman navies. "_It shall be the basest of the kingdoms; neither shall it exalt itself any more above the nations: for I will diminish them, that they shall no more bear rule over the nations._"[89] Every traveler will attest the truth of this prediction. The wretched peasantry are rejoiced to labor for any who will pay them five cents a day, and eager to hide the treasure in the ground from the rapacious tax-gatherer. I have seen British horses refuse to eat the meal ground from the mixture of wheat, barley, oats, lentiles, millet, and a hundred unknown seeds of weeds and collections of filth, which forms the produce of their fields. For poverty, vermin, and disease, Egypt is proverbial. Let us hear a scoffer's testimony, however: "In Egypt there is no middle class, neither nobility, clergy, merchants, nor landholders. A universal air of misery in all the traveler meets points out to him the rapacity of oppression, and the distrust attendant upon slavery. The profound ignorance of the inhabitants equally prevents them from perceiving the causes of their evils, or applying the necessary remedies. Ignorance, diffused through every class, extends its effects to every species of moral and physical knowledge. Nothing is talked of but intestine troubles, the public misery, pecuniary extortions, and bastinadoes."[90] The objector perhaps will allege in extenuation the modern improvements now in progress, the Suez Canal, the railroads, the steamboats on the Nile, the bridge across the Nile at Cairo, and the sugar and cotton plantations. But if these were as evident tokens of progress in Egypt, as they would be in America, they would not in the least invalidate the facts of the past degradation of Egypt for centuries. But these speculations of the Khedive are of no advantage to the people; rather, on the contrary, do they afford him additional opportunities of exacting forced labor from the miserable peasants. I have seen the population of several villages, forced to leave their own fields in the spring, to march down to an old, filthy canal, near Cairo, and almost within sight of the gate of the palace, men, and women, and little boys, and girls, like those of our Sabbath-schools, scooping up the stinking mud and water with their hands, into baskets, carrying them on their heads up the steep bank, beaten with long sticks by the taskmasters to hasten their steps; while steam dredges lay unused within sight. Egypt is still the basest of the nations. Here, then, we have conclusive proof of the fulfillment at this day of four distinct, specific, and improbable Bible predictions: concerning the country, the rulers, the religion, and the people of Egypt. Let us note now a distinct and totally different judgment pronounced against the transgressors of another land. Pre-eminent in inflicting destruction on others, her retribution was to be extreme. Degradation and slavery were to be the portion of the learned Egyptians, but utter extinction is the doom of mighty Babylon. It is written in the Bible concerning the land where the farmer was accustomed to reap two hundred-fold: "_Cut off the sower from Babylon, and him that handleth the sickle in the time of harvest. * * * Every purpose of the Lord shall be performed against Babylon, to make the land of Babylon a desolation without an inhabitant. * * * Behold the hindermost of the nations shall be a wilderness, a dry land, and a desert. * * * Because of the wrath of the Lord it shall not be inhabited, but it shall be wholly desolate._"[91] Proofs in abundance of the fulfillment of these predictions present themselves in every volume of travels in Assyria and Chaldea. "Those splendid accounts of the Babylonian lands yielding crops of grain of two and three hundred fold, compared with the modern face of the country, afford a remarkable proof of the _singular desolation_ to which it has been subjected. The canals at present can only be traced by their decayed banks. The soil of this desert consists of a hard clay, mixed with mud, which at noon becomes so heated with the sun's rays, that I found it too hot to walk over it with any degree of comfort."[92] "That it was at some former period in a far different state is evident from the number of canals by which it is traversed, now dry and neglected; and the quantity of heaps of earth, covered with fragments of brick and broken tiles, which are seen in every direction--the indisputable traces of former cultivation."[93] "The abundance of the country has vanished as clean away as if the besom of desolation had swept it from north to south; the whole land, from the outskirts of Babylon to the farthest stretch of sight, lying a melancholy waste. _Not a habitable spot appears for countless miles._"[94] As the desolation of the country was to be extraordinary, so the desolation of the city of Babylon was to be remarkable. When the prophet wrote, its walls had been raised to the height of three hundred and fifty feet, and made broad enough for six chariots to drive upon them abreast. From its hundred brazen gates issued the armies which trampled under foot the liberties of mankind, and presented their lives to the nod of a despot, who slew whom he would, and whom he would allowed to live. Twenty years' provisions were collected within its walls, and the world would not believe that an enemy could enter its gates. Nevertheless, the prophets of God pronounced against it a doom of destruction as extraordinary as the pride and wickedness which procured it. Tyre, the London of Asia, was to _become a place for the spreading of nets_,[95] and the Infidel Volney tells us its commerce had declined to _a trifling fishery_; but even that implies some few resident inhabitants. Rabbah, of Ammon, was to become _a stable for camels and a couching place for flocks_.[96] Lord Lindsay reports that "he could not sleep amidst its ruins for the bleating of sheep, that the dung of camels covers the ruins of its palaces, and that the only building left entire in its Acropolis is used as a sheepfold."[97] Yet sheepfolds imply that the tents of their Arab owners are near, and that some human beings would occasionally reside near its ruins. But desolation, solitude, and utter abandonment to the wild beasts of the desert is the specific and clearly predicted doom of the world's proud capital. The most expressive symbols are selected from the desert to portray its desertion. "_Babylon, the glory of kingdoms, the beauty of the Chaldees' excellency, shall be as when God overthrew Sodom and Gomorrah. It shall never be inhabited, neither shall it be dwelt in from generation to generation: neither shall the Arabian pitch tent there; neither shall the shepherds make their fold there: but wild beasts of the desert shall lie there; and their houses shall be full of doleful creatures; and owls shall dwell there, and satyrs shall dance there. And the wild beasts of the islands shall cry in their desolate houses, and dragons in their pleasant palaces._"[98] Every traveler attests the fulfillment of this strange prediction. "It is a tenantless and desolate metropolis," says Mignon; who, though fully armed, and attended by six Arabs, could not induce them by any reward to pass the night among its ruins, from the apprehension of evil spirits. So completely fulfilled is the prophecy, "_The Arabian shall not pitch his tent there._" The same voice which called camels and flocks to the palaces of Rabbah, summoned a very different class of tenants for the palaces of Babylon. Rabbah was to be a sheepfold, Babylon a menagerie of wild beasts; a very specific difference, and very improbable. One of the later Persian kings, however, after it was destroyed and deserted, repaired its walls, converted it into a vast hunting-ground, and stocked it with all manner of wild beasts; and to this day the apes of the Spice Islands, and the lions of the African deserts, meet in its palaces, and howl their testimony to the truth of God's Word. Sir R. K. Porter saw two majestic lions in the Mujelibe (the ruins of the palace), and Fraser thus describes the chambers of fallen Babylon: "There were dens of wild beasts in various places, and Mr. Rich perceived in some a strong smell, like that of a lion. Bones of sheep and other animals were seen in the cavities, with numbers of bats and owls." Various destructions were predicted for Babylon. "_I will make it a habitation for the bittern, and pools of water_,"[99] says one prophecy. "_Her cities are a desolation, a dry land, and a wilderness_,"[100] says another. How can such contradictions be true? says the scoffer. But the scoffer's contradiction is a fact. God can cause the most discordant agencies to agree in effecting his purpose. Babylon is alternately an overflowed swamp, from the inundations of the obstructed Euphrates, and an arid desert, under the scorching rays of an Eastern sun. Says Mignon: "Morasses and ponds tracked the ground in various places. For a long time after the subsiding of the Euphrates great part of this place is little better than a swamp." At another season it was "a dry waste and burning plain." Even at the same period, "one part on the western side is low and marshy, and another an arid desert."[101] Another, and widely different agent, to be employed in the destruction of the great center of tyranny and idolatry, is thus specifically and definitely indicated in the prediction: "_Behold, I am against thee, O destroying mountain, saith the Lord, which destroyest all the earth: and I will stretch out my hand upon thee, and roll thee down from the rocks, and will make thee a burnt mountain. And they shall not take of thee a stone for a corner, nor a stone for foundations; but thou shalt be desolate forever, saith the Lord._"[102] "There is one fact," says Fraser, "in connection with the most remarkable of these relics (the Birs Nimrod), which we can not dismiss without a few more observations. All travelers who have ascended the Birs have taken notice of the singular heaps of brick-work scattered on the summit of this mound, at the foot of the remnant of the wall still standing. To the writer they appeared the most striking of all the ruins. That they have undergone the most violent action of fire is evident from the complete vitrification which has taken place in many of the masses. Yet how a heat sufficient to produce such an effect could have been applied at such a height from the ground is unaccountable. They now lie on a spot elevated two hundred feet above the plain, and must have fallen from some much more lofty position, for the structure which still remains, and of which they may be supposed originally to have formed a part, bears no marks of fire. The building originally can not have contained any great proportion of combustible materials, and to produce so intense a heat by substances carried to such an elevation would have been almost impossible, for want of space to pile them on. Nothing, we should be inclined to say, short of the most powerful action of electric fire, could have produced the complete, yet circumscribed, fusion which is here observed. Although fused into a solid mass, the courses of bricks are still visible, identifying them with the standing pile above, but so hardened by the power of heat, that it is almost impossible to break off the smallest piece; and, though porous in texture, and full of air-holes and cavities, like other bricks, they require, on being submitted to the stone-cutter's lathe, the same machinery as is used to dress the hardest pebbles."[103] The doom of Nineveh, the great rival and predecessor of Babylon, was also predicted as the result of two apparently contradictory agencies--an overrunning flood and a consuming fire. But both these antagonistic elements conspired to devour her. The river, with an overrunning flood, swept away a large portion of the walls. The besiegers entered through the breach, and set the city on fire. The charcoal, burnt beans, and slabs of half-calcined alabaster, in the British Museum, demonstrate the fulfillment of the prediction. Egypt was to be reduced to slavery and degradation. Babylonia to utter barrenness and desolation; but a different and still more incredible doom is pronounced in the Bible upon Judea and its people. The land was to be emptied of its people, and remain uncultivated, retaining all its former fertility, while the people were to be scattered over all the earth, yet never to lose their distinct nationality, nor be amalgamated with their neighbors: "_I will make your cities waste, and bring your sanctuaries unto desolation, and I will not smell the savor of your sweet odors. And I will bring the land into desolation: and your enemies which dwell therein shall be astonished at it. And I will scatter you among the heathen, and will draw out a sword after you: and your land shall be desolate, and your cities waste. Then shall the land enjoy her Sabbaths, as long as it lieth desolate, and ye be in your enemies' land; even then shall the land rest, and enjoy her Sabbaths._"[104] "_Until the cities be wasted without inhabitant, and the houses without man, and the land be utterly desolate, and the Lord have removed men far away, and there be a great forsaking in the midst of the land. But yet in it shall be a tenth, and it shall return, and shall be eaten: as a teil-tree, and as an oak, whose substance is in them, when they cast their leaves._"[105] "_The generation to come, of your children that shall rise up after you, and the stranger that shall come from a far land, shall say, * * * Wherefore hath the Lord done thus unto this land? What meaneth the heat of this great anger?_"[106] It is superfluous to adduce proof of the undeniable and acknowledged fulfillment of these predictions, but as an example of the way in which God causes scoffers to fulfill the prophecies, let us again hear Volney: "I journeyed in the empire of the Ottomans, and traversed the provinces which were formerly the kingdoms of Egypt and Syria. I enumerated the kingdoms of Damascus and Idumea, of Jerusalem and Samaria. This Syria, said I to myself, now almost depopulated, then contained a hundred flourishing cities, and abounded with towns, villages, and hamlets. What has become of so many productions of the hand of man? What has become of those ages of abundance and of life? _Great God! from whence proceed such melancholy revolutions? For what cause is the fortune of these countries so strikingly changed? Why are so many cities destroyed?_ Why is not that ancient population reproduced and perpetuated? A mysterious God exercises his incomprehensible judgments. He has doubtless pronounced a secret malediction against the earth. He has struck with a curse the present race of men in revenge of past generations."[107] The malediction is no secret to any who will read the twenty ninth chapter of Deuteronomy; nor is the avenging of the quarrel of God's covenant confined to the sins of past generations. The philosopher who would understand the fates of cities and empires should read the prophecies. The Word of God specifies no less distinctly and definitely the destiny of the Jewish than of the Babylonian capital, but fixes on a widely different kind of destruction. Babylon was never to be built again, but devoted to solitude; busy Tyre to become a place for spreading nets; the caravans, which once brought the wealth of India through Petra, were to cease, and the doom was to "cut off him that passeth by and him that returneth." But Jerusalem, it was predicted, should long feel the miseries of a multitude of oppressors, should never enjoy the luxury of a solitary woe, but "_be trodden down of the Gentiles_."[108] Saracens, Tartars, Turks, and Crusaders, Gentiles from every nation of the earth, fulfilled the prediction of old, even as hosts of pilgrims from all parts of the earth do at this day. So minute and specific are the predictions of Scripture, that the fate of particular buildings is accurately defined. One temple to the living God, and only one, raised its walls in this world, which he had made for his worship. Its frequenters perverted it from its proper use of leading them to confess their sinfulness, to seek pardon through the promised Savior to whom its ceremonies pointed, and to learn to be holy, as the God of that temple was holy. They hoped that the holiness of the place would screen them in the indulgence of pride, formality, and wickedness. The temple of the Lord, instead of the Lord of the temple, was the object of their veneration. But the doom went forth. "_Therefore for your sakes shall Zion be plowed as a field, and Jerusalem shall become as heaps, and the mountain of the house like the high places of the forest._" History has preserved, and the Jews to this day curse the name of the soldier, Terentius Rufus, who plowed up the foundations of the temple. It long continued in this state. But the Emperor Julian the Apostate conceived the idea of falsifying the prediction of Jesus, "_Behold your house is left unto you desolate_,"[109] and sent his friend Alypius, with a Roman army, and abundant treasure, to rebuild it. The Jews flocked from all parts to assist in the work. Spades and pickaxes of silver were provided by the vanity of the rich, and the rubbish was transported in mantles of silk and purple. But they were obliged to desist from the attempt, for "horrible balls of fire breaking out from the foundations with repeated attacks, rendered the place inaccessible to the scorched workmen, and the element driving them to a distance from time to time, the enterprise was dropped."[110] Such is the testimony of a heathen, confirmed by Jews and Christians. The inclosures of the mosque of Omar, forbidding them all access to the spot on which it stood, leave it desolate to the Jews to this day. I have seen them (in 1872) kissing a few large stones, supposed to belong to its foundations or sub-structures, from the outside; for which miserable privilege they were obliged to pay their oppressors. On approaching the spot from the Zion gate, right across Mount Zion to the temple ruins, our way lay through a plowed field of young barley, and gardens of cauliflowers hedged with enormous rows of cactus. To this day Zion is plowed as a field. 4. No sane man can believe that such minute and accurate predictions of various and improbable events could be the result of human calculations; yet there is another feature of the Bible prophesies still farther removed beyond the reach of human sagacity, and that is, remarkable and unaccountable _preservation amidst the general ruin_. If, as skeptics allege, destruction is the natural and inevitable doom, then preservation is supernatural and miraculous--a miracle of divine power controlling nature; and its prediction is a miracle of divine wisdom. Now the prophecies of the Bible contain several very definite, and widely different predictions of the preservation of people and cities from the general destruction. We shall refer in this case also to those of whose fulfillment there can be no manner of doubt, for the facts are palpable and undeniable at the present day. The prediction of the character and fate of the Arabs stands out a remarkable contrast to the predictions of the destruction of the surrounding nations. Of their ancestor, Ishmael, it was predicted: "He will be a wild man; his hand shall be against every man, and every man's hand against him; and he shall dwell in the presence of all his brethren."[111] The nomad and warlike habits of the sons of Ishmael are here distinctly predicted; and the singular anomaly which exempts them alone, of all the people of the earth, from the law, "They that take the sword, shall perish by the sword." The unconquered Arab laughs alike at the Persian, Greek, Roman, Turkish, and French invaders of his deserts, levies tribute on all who enter his territory, and dwells to-day, a free man, in the presence of all his brethren, as God foretold. Of the Israelitish nation God predicted, that it should be a peculiar, distinct people, separate from the other nations of the world: "_Lo, the people shall dwell alone, and shall not be reckoned among the nations._"[112] In apparent contradiction to this separation, he further threatened to punish them for their sins, by dispersing them over the world: "_I will scatter you among the heathen, and will draw out a sword after you._"[113] "_For lo, I will command, and I will sift the house of Israel among all nations, like as corn is sifted in a sieve, yet shall not the last grain fall upon the earth._"[114] It was further threatened, as if to make sure of their national destruction: "_And among these nations shalt thou find no ease, neither shall the sole of thy foot have rest: but the Lord shall give thee there a trembling heart, and failing of eyes, and sorrow of mind: and thy life shall hang in doubt before thee; and thou shalt fear day and night, and shall have none assurance of thy life._"[115] Contrary to all appearances, and in spite of all this dispersion and persecution, it is predicted that Israel shall still exist as a nation, and be restored to the favor of God, and that prosperity which ever accompanies it: "_And yet for all that, when they be in the land of their enemies, I will not cast them away, neither will I abhor them, to destroy them utterly, and to break my covenant with them: for I am the Lord their God._"[116] Here are four distinct predictions, of national peculiarity, universal dispersion, grievous oppression, and remarkable preservation. The fulfillment is obvious, and undeniable. You need no commentary to explain it. Go into any clothing-store on Western Row, or into the synagogue in Broadway, and you will see it. The Infidel is sorely perplexed to give any account of this great phenomenon. How does it happen that this singular people is dispersed over all the earth, and yet distinct and unamalgamated with any other? How does it happen that for eighteen hundred years they have resisted all the influences of nature, and all the customs of society, and all the powers of persecution, driving them toward amalgamation, and irresistible in all other instances? In the face of the power of the Chinese Empire, in spite of the tortures of the Spanish Inquisition, amid the chaos of African nationalities, and the fusion of American democracy, in the plains of Australia, and in the streets of San Francisco, the religion, customs, and physiognomy of the children of Israel are as distinct this day as they were three thousand years ago, when Moses wrote them in the Pentateuch, and Shishak painted them on the tombs of Medinet Abou. How does the Infidel account for it? It will not do to allege the favorite story about purity of blood and Caucasian race; for the question is, How does it happen that this people, and this people alone, have kept the blood pure; while all other races are so mingled that no other race can be found pure on earth? Besides, lest any should suppose such a cause sufficient for their preservation, another nation, descended from the same father and the same mother--the children of Jacob's twin brother--has utterly perished, and there is not any remaining of the house of Esau. Human sagacity, with all the facts before its face, can not give any rational account of the causes of this anomaly. It can not tell to-day why this people exists separate from, and scattered through all nations, from Kamschatka to New Zealand; how, then, could it foretell, three thousand years ago, this singular exception to all the laws of national existence? While the sun and moon endure, the nation of Israel shall exist as God's witness to God's word, an undeniable proof that the mouth of the Lord hath spoken it. A very peculiar feature of the desolation of Israel was the _desolation_, but not the _destruction_ of the cities. In most cases of the desolations of war, the cities have been burned and the buildings destroyed. There is no shelter for man or beast in the mounds of rubbish which cover the ruined cities of Assyria. Where the buildings have not been destroyed, or have been rebuilt, they have again been inhabited; as we see in the cases of Rome, Constantinople, Jerusalem, and many others. But on the cities of Israel it was written that God's curse should go forth "till the cities should be wasted without inhabitant, and the houses without man, and the land be left utterly desolate." But for a long time the literal fulfillment of this prediction was not witnessed, as the cities on this side the Jordan had been mostly reduced to ruins. The richest and most populous part of the land, however, was the land of Bashan; where, in a territory of about thirty miles by twenty, sixty cities still remain standing to attest the wonderful fertility of the soil and industry of the people. "And though the vast majority of them are deserted, _they are not ruined_. * * * Many of the houses in the ancient cities of Bashan are perfect, as if only finished yesterday. The walls are sound, the roofs unbroken, the doors, and even the window shutters in their places."[117] From two hundred to five hundred houses have been found perfect in some of these cities; and from the roof of the Castle of Salcah, Dr. Porter counted thirty towns and villages dotting the plain, many of them perfect as when first built; "yet for more than five centuries there has not been an inhabitant in one of them." So sure is every word of God. Take another instance of preservation, so remarkable amid the surrounding destruction, that it arrested the attention and admiration of the author of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire, skeptic and scoffer though he was. The seven churches of seven of the most considerable cities of Asia were then, as the churches of Christ still are, the salt of the earth. Ten righteous men would have averted God's judgments from Sodom. Jesus pronounced the sentences of these churches seventeen hundred and sixty years ago, and the present condition of the cities attests the divine authority of the record containing them. They are various and specific. Three were to be utterly destroyed. Against two no special threatening is denounced. To the remaining two promises of life and blessing are given. Ephesus, famous for its magnificence, the busy avenue of travel, the seat of the temple of Diana, long the residence of an apostle, and afterward of Christian bishops--"one of the eyes of Asia"--as it stood first on the roll of cities, first receives the doom of abused privileges: "_I will remove thy candlestick out of its place, unless thou repent._" Says Gibbon: "The captivity and ruin of the seven churches of Asia was consummated (by the Ottomans) A. D. 1312; and the barbarous lords of Ionia and Lydia still trample on the monuments of classic and Christian antiquity. In the loss of Ephesus the Christians deplored the fall of the first angel, and the extinction of the first candlestick of the Revelation. _The desolation is complete_, and the temple of Diana or the church of Mary will equally elude the search of the curious traveler."[118] Since Gibbon's day the foundations of the temple have been discovered twelve to fourteen feet below the soil; but no church of Christ remains to illuminate the minds of the few squalid and lazy dwellers in the village of Aisayalouk. One cobbler's stall represented the whole manufacturing industry of Ephesus; and four boys playing a game like drafts, with pebbles, in front of it seemed the only public likely to patronize its theater, as I took note of its people and their occupations, in 1872. Then leaving the storks in their nests, on the top of the ruined arches of its great aqueduct, to proceed toward the ruins of the great theater, we tried in vain to procure horses or asses for the ladies; found the only road so filled with water from the recent rains as to be impassable, and were fain to plunge on foot through the plowed fields till we reached the elevation on which it was erected. Here we surveyed its rock-hewn seats, capable of accommodating an audience larger than that of all the theaters of New York; but there was no longer a voice to cry, "Great is Diana of the Ephesians!" The sea has forsaken the harbor, which is now a pestilential morass. We passed through the ruins of the custom-house, now miles inland, and found a single Turkish soldier on guard. The peasants who cultivate some parts of the plain come from distant villages, and fever, filth, and beggary reign in Ephesus. Had the twenty thousand patrons of the drama, in the thirty-one theaters of New York, honored the theater of Laodicea with their presence, its polite citizens would have accommodated them all on the reserved seats, retiring themselves to ten thousand less commodious sittings, and to two less gigantic theaters. While yet busy in the erection of their splendid places of public amusement, Jesus said, "_I will spew thee out of my mouth._" "The circus, and three stately theaters of Laodicea, are peopled with wolves and foxes," says Gibbon. The church was spewed out of Christ's mouth, and the city too. It has been overturned by earthquakes, and is now nothing but a series of magnificent ruins, from which, however, ample evidence may be collected of its former magnificence. Those of the aqueduct, the theater, and the amphitheater, are remarkable; in the latter an inscription has been found showing that it was in course of erection when the Lord dictated the warning to its people. But the warning was unheeded, and now the whole space inside the city walls is strewn with fragments of columns and pedestals. A Lydian capitalist once deposited in the vaults of Sardis more specie than is now in circulation in this whole continent. But Jesus said, "_Thou hast a name that thou livest and art dead. If, therefore, thou shalt not watch, I will come upon thee as a thief, and thou shalt not know what hour I will come upon thee._" "Sardis," says Gibbon, "is a miserable village." A later writer (Durbin) tells us that the Turks say, "Every one who builds a house in Sardis dies soon, and avoid the spot." Arundell, in his account of his visit to the seven churches, says: "If I were asked what impresses the mind most strongly on beholding Sardis, I should say, its indescribable _solitude_, like the darkness of Egypt, that could be felt. So deep the solitude of the spot, once the lady of kingdoms, produces a feeling of desolate abandonment in the mind which can never be forgotten." Connect this feeling with the message of the Apocalypse to the church of Sardis, "Thou hast a name that thou livest, and _art dead_, and then look around and ask, Where are the churches? Where are the Christians of Sardis? The tumuli beyond the Hermus reply, '_All dead!_'--suffering the infliction of the threatened judgment of God for the abuse of their privileges. Let the unbeliever, then, be asked, Is there no truth in prophecy?--no reality in religion?" Only twenty-seven miles north of this desolate metropolis, the manufactories of Thyatira dispatch weekly to Smyrna, cloths, as famous over Asia for the brilliancy and durability of their hues as those which Lydia displayed to the admiration of the ladies of Philippi. Two thousand two hundred Greek Christians, two hundred Armenian, and a Protestant Church under the care of the missionaries of the American Board of Commissioners of Foreign Missions, assemble every Sabbath to commemorate the resurrection of Him who said to the church of Thyatira: "_I will put upon you no other burden; but that which ye have already hold fast till I come._" The fragrant citron (_Bergamot_) still flourishes around the birthplace of Galen; but the ruins of the famous library of 200,000 manuscripts are far less durable memorials of the city of booksellers than those beautifully dressed skins, which, taking their name (_Pergamena_) from the place of their manufacture, will preserve the name and fame of Pergamos as long as parchment can preserve man's memorials, or God's predictions. Though famous for fragrance, physic, and philosophy, Pergamos was infamous for idolatry, licentiousness, and persecution; yet still endeared to Jesus as the scene of the martyrdom of faithful Antipas, and the dwelling-place of a hidden church; and widely different sentences are recorded against those opposite classes. The public memorials are to perish, but the hidden word to endure. "The fanes of Jupiter and Diana, and Venus and Esculapius (worshiped under the symbol of a live snake), were prostrate in the dust, and where they had not been carried away by the Turks to cut up into tombstones or pounded into mortar, the Corinthian columns and the Ionic, the splendid capitals, the cornices and the pediments, all in the highest ornament, were thrown in unsightly heaps,"[119] is the comment on the threatening of Jesus, "_I will fight against them_--the idolaters--_with the sword of my mouth_." The 3,000 Greek and 300 Armenian Christians, and even the 10,000 Turkish inhabitants of the modern Pergamos, have received hundreds of copies of the promise, "_To him that overcometh will I give to eat of the hidden manna, and will give him a white stone and in the stone a new name written, which no man knoweth, saving he that receiveth it._" But whether the hidden church of Pergamos shine forth or not, Gibbon was inaccurate in stating, in the face of facts, that "the god of Mohammed without a rival is invoked in the mosques of Pergamos and Thyatira." God's providence is as discriminating as his prophecy, though unbelief may overlook both. We have noted here instances of the prediction of remarkable destruction to Sardis, Ephesus, and Laodicea; of continued existence to Pergamos and Thyatira; let us now note a prediction of remarkable escape and preservation from the universal doom. If it requires no inspiration to prophecy destruction--the universal fate of humanity, according to the Infidel--surely it requires more than human skill to say that any city shall escape this universal fate, and more than human power to avert this destruction. Of Philadelphia, but twenty-five miles distant from the ruins of Sardis, Jesus said, and the Bible records the prophecy: "_I know thy works: behold, I have set before thee an open door, and no man can shut it: for thou hast a little strength, and hast kept my word, and hast not denied my name. Behold, I will make them of the synagogue of Satan, which say they are Jews, and are not, but do lie; behold, I will make them to come and worship before thy feet, and to know that I have loved thee. Because thou hast kept the word of my patience, I will also keep thee from the hour of temptation, which shall come upon all the world, to try them that dwell upon the earth. Behold, I come quickly: hold that fast which thou hast, that no man take thy crown. Him that overcometh will I make a pillar in the temple of my God; and he shall go no more out: and I will write upon him the name of my God, and the name of the city of my God, which is New Jerusalem, which cometh down out of heaven from my God: and I will write upon him my new name._" "Philadelphia alone," says Gibbon, "has been saved by prophecy, or courage. At a distance from the sea, forgotten by the emperors, encompassed on all sides by the Turks, her valiant sons defended their religion and their freedom alone for fourscore years, and at length capitulated with the proudest of the Ottomans. Among the Greek colonies and churches of Asia, Philadelphia is still erect--_a column in a scene of ruins_--a pleasing example that the paths of honor and safety may be the same." In the pages of this eloquent writer it would be hard to discover another instance of unqualified hearty commendation of soldiers or sufferers for Christianity and liberty, such as Gibbon here bestows on Philadelphia's valiant sons. But it was written, "_I will make them come and worship before thy feet_," and the skeptic and scoffer must fulfill the word of Jesus; even as the unbelieving Mohammedan also does, when he writes upon it the modern name, Allah Sehr--_The City of God._ _A majestic solitary pillar_, of high antiquity, arrests the eye of the traveler, and reminds the worshipers in the six modern churches of Philadelphia of the beauty and faithfulness of the prophetic symbol. Heaven and earth shall pass away, but Jesus' word shall not pass away. Improbable to human sagacity as this preservation must have seemed, the resurrection of a fallen city is more utterly beyond man's vision. In the Bible, however, tribulation and recovery were foretold to Smyrna: "_Fear none of those things which thou shalt suffer: behold, the devil shall cast some of you into prison that ye may be tried; and ye shall have tribulation ten days. Be thou faithful unto death, and I will give thee a crown of life._" "The populousness of Smyrna is owing to the foreign trade of the Franks and Armenians," says the scoffer. No matter to what it is owing, he who dictated the Bible foresaw it, and made no mistake in foretelling it. Says Arundell: This, the other eye of Asia, is still a very flourishing commercial city, one of the very first in the present Turkish empire in wealth and population, containing 130,000 inhabitants. The continued importance of Smyrna may be estimated from the fact that it is the seat of a consul from every nation in Europe. The prosperity of Smyrna is now rather on the increase than the decline, and the houses of painted wood, which were most unworthy of its ancient fame and present importance, are rapidly giving way to palaces of stone rising in all directions; and, probably, ere many years have passed, the modern town may not unworthily represent the ancient city, which the ancients delighted to call the crown of Ionia. Commercial activity and architectural beauty, however, are but a small part of the glorious destiny of the community to which Jesus says, "I will give thee a crown of life." Mark Twain suggests that the prophecy refers to the church, rather than to the city; but forgets to remind us that the Church of Christ is well represented and crowned with life in Smyrna. God's predictions regard the vital part of communities, the spiritual forces; these, vigorous and outspreading, secure the material progress. Close the Bible House, printing presses, and schools of America, and real estate would not be worth much more than in Asia. The Lord Christ rules this world. His blessing has revived both the church and the city of Smyrna, according to his promise. In 1872 I found its harbor busy with coasting craft and ocean steamers, and its railroad doing a brisk business. Smyrna is a live city. Deliverance from the curse of sin, and communion with the Lord of Life, alone can secure either a nation's or an individual's immortality. Smyrna possesses the gospel of salvation. Several devoted English and American missionaries proclaim salvation to its citizens. From its printing presses thousands of copies of the Word of Life issue to all the various populations of the Turkish Empire. A living Church of Christ in Smyrna holds forth, for the acceptance of the dying nations around her, that crown of life promised and granted by the Word of God, not to her only, but to all who love his appearing and his kingdom. 5. This is the grand distinction of God's word of prophecy, _that it is the Word of Life_. It is the only word which promises life, the only word which bestows it on fallen humanity. Recognizing no inevitable law of destruction but the sentence of God, no invariable law of nature superior to the counsel of Jehovah, nor any progress of events which his Almighty arm can not arrest and reverse, it points a despairing world to sin as the cause of all destruction, to Satan as the author of sin, to ungodly men in league with him as the foes of God and man, and to Christ pledged to perpetual warfare with such until the last enemy be destroyed. This word of prophecy tells us, that the battle-fields Messiah has won are earnests of that great victory; points to the columns which he has preserved erect amid scenes of ruin, as assurances that he is able to save to the uttermost all that come unto God by him; goes to the graveyards where fallen Smyrnas, idolatrous Saxons, debased Sandwich Islanders, and cannibal New Zealanders have buried the image of the living God, and in Jesus' name proclaims, "_I am the resurrection and the life: he that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live_;" and, amid the very ruins of destroyed cities, and the crumbling heaps of their perished memorials, beholds the assurances that Satan's rule of ruin shall not be perpetual, anticipates the day when the course of sin and misery shall be reversed, and teaches Adam's sons to face the foe, and chant forth that heaven-born note of victorious faith, "_Oh, thou enemy! destructions are come to a perpetual end._" Come forth, trembling skeptic, from the cave of thy dark invariable experience of death and destruction, and from the vain sparks of thy misgiving hopes of an ungodly eternity to come less miserable than the past, and lift thine eyes to this heavenly sunrising on the dark mountain tops of futurity, the like of which thou didst never dream of in all thy Pantheistic reveries. Search over all the religions of the world--the hieroglyphics of Egypt, the arrow-headed inscriptions of Assyria, the classic mythologies of graceful Greece and iron Rome, the monstrous shasters of thine Indian Pundits, or the more chaotic clouds of thy German philosophies--in none of them wilt thou ever find this divine thought, _an end of destructions--a perpetual end_. Cycles of ruin and renovation, and of renovation and ruin, vast cycles, if you will, but evermore ending in dire catastrophies to gods and men--an everlasting succession of death and destructions--is the fearful vista which all the religions of man, and thine own irreligion, present to thy terrified vision. But thou wast created in the image of the living God, and durst not rest satisfied with any such prospect. Now I come in the name of the Lord to tell thee, that "God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him _should not perish, but have everlasting life_;" and I demand of thee that thou acknowledge this promise of life everlasting to be the word of that living God, and to show cause, if any thou hast, why thou dost relinquish thy birthright, and spurn the gift of everlasting life which is in Christ Jesus our Lord? But, if thou hast no sufficient cause why thou shouldest choose death rather than life, then hear, and your soul shall live, while I relate the promise which God hath made of old to our fathers, and hath fulfilled to us, their children, by raising up his Son, Jesus Christ, from the dead, and sending him to bless you, by turning away every one of you from your iniquities. For there can be no deliverance from misery and destruction but by means of delivery from sin and Satan. It is quite in agreement with the manner of our deliverance from any of the evils of our fallen condition, that our deliverance from the power of sin and Satan be effected by the agency of a deliverer. Our ignorance is removed by the knowledge of a teacher, our sickness by the skill of a physician, the oppressed nation hails the advent of a patriotic leader, and oppressed humanity acknowledges the fitness and need of a divine Deliverer, even by the ready welcome it has given to pretenders to this character, and by the longing desire of the wisest and best of men for a divinely commissioned Savior; a desire implanted by the great prophecy, which stands at the portal of hope for mankind, in the very earliest period of our history, that "_the seed of the woman should bruise the serpent's head_," and so leave man triumphant over the great destroyer. The prophecies regarding the Messiah are so numerous, pointed, various, and improbable, as to set human sagacity utterly at defiance; while they are also connected so as to form a scheme of prophecy, which gradually unrolls before us the advent, the ministry, the death, resurrection, and ascension of the Lord, the progress of his gospel over all the world, and the blessed effects it should produce on individuals, families, and nations. It closes with a view of the second coming of Jesus to conquer the last of his enemies, and take possession of the earth as his inheritance. I can only lop off a twig or two from this blessed tree of life, in the hope that the fragrance of the leaves may allure you to take up the Bible, and eat abundantly of its life-giving promises. As I have in the previous chapters abundantly proved the veracity of the New Testament history, I shall now with all confidence refer to its account of the birth, life, and death of Jesus, as illustrating the prophecies. The time, the place, the manner of his birth, his parentage and reception, were plainly declared, hundreds of years before he appeared. When Herod had gathered all the chief priests and scribes of the people together, he demanded of them where Christ should be born, and they said unto him, "In Bethlehem of Judea, for thus it is written by the prophet: _And thou Bethlehem, in the land of Judah, art not the least among the princes of Judah: for out of thee shall come a Governor, that shall rule my people Israel._" The first verse of this chapter records the fact, "Now when Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judea." The throne of Judah was to be occupied by strangers, and the line of native princes was to cease upon the coming of this Governor, and not till his coming: "_The scepter shall not depart from Judah, nor a lawgiver from between his feet, until Shiloh shall come; and unto him shall the gathering of the people be._" On the day of his crucifixion the rulers of the Jews made this formal and public announcement of the fact, "We have no king but Cæsar." He was to address a class of people whom no other religious teacher had condescended to notice before, and very few save those sent by Him ever since: "_The Spirit of the Lord God is upon me; because the Lord hath anointed me to preach good tidings unto the meek: he hath sent me to bind up the broken-hearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives, and the opening of the prison to them that are bound._" Hear Jesus' words: "Come unto me, all ye that labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Go and show John again those things which ye do hear and see: The blind receive their sight, and the lame walk, the lepers are cleansed, and the deaf hear, the dead are raised up, _and the poor have the gospel preached to them_. And blessed is he, whosoever shall not be offended in me." Yet, notwithstanding his feeding of thousands, and healing of multitudes, and teaching of the lowest of the people, it was foretold he should be unpopular: "_He is despised and rejected of men; a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief: and we hid as it were our faces from him; he was despised, and we esteemed him not._" The brief records are: "Then all the disciples forsook him and fled." "Then began Peter to curse and to swear, saying, I know not the man." "Pilate saith unto them, Ye have a custom, that I should release unto you one at the passover: will ye therefore that I release unto you the King of the Jews? Then cried they all again, saying, Not this man, but Barabbas. Now Barabbas was a robber." All the prophets agree in predicting that for the sins of his people, and to atone for their guilt, he should be put to death by a shameful public execution: "_In the midst of the week Messiah shall be cut off, but not for himself. He was wounded for our transgressions, he was bruised for our iniquities: the chastisement of our peace was upon him; and with his stripes we are healed. He was numbered with the transgressors; and he bare the sin of many, and made intercession for the transgressors. They pierced my hands and my feet._" The record says: "The Son of Man came not to be ministered unto, but to minister, and to give his life a ransom for many." "And when they were come to the place which is called Calvary, there they crucified him, and the malefactors, one on the right hand, and the other on the left. Then said Jesus, _Father, forgive them; for they know not what they do._" The one grand unparalleled fact, one which demands the hope of dying men for a victory over the great destroyer, and a resurrection from the tomb--the fact that one man born of a woman died, and did not see corruption, but rose again from the dead and went up into heaven, and dieth no more--forms the theme of many a prophetic psalm of triumph: "_Thou wilt not leave my soul in hell, nor wilt thou give thine Holy One to see corruption. Thou wilt show me the path of life. Thou wilt make me full of joy with thy countenance. Thou hast ascended on high. Thou hast led captivity captive._" Often did Jesus predict this prodigy before friend and foe: "_Sir, we remember that that deceiver said, when he was yet alive, After three days I will rise again._" The last chapters of the gospels relate the proofs by which he convinced his incredulous disciples that the prophecy was fulfilled: "Behold my hands and my feet, that it is I myself. Handle me and see, for a spirit hath not flesh and bones, as ye see me have. And when he had thus spoken, he showed them his hands and his feet. And while they yet believed not for joy, and wondered, he saith unto them, Have ye here any meat? And they gave him a piece of broiled fish, and of an honey comb. And he took it and did eat before them; and said unto them, Thus it is written, and thus it behooved Christ to suffer, and to rise from the dead the third day; and that repentance and remission of sins should be preached in his name among all nations, beginning at Jerusalem. And ye are witnesses of these things. And behold I send the promise of my Father upon you, but tarry ye in the city of Jerusalem until ye be endued with power from on high. And he led them out as far as to Bethany, and he lifted up his hands and blessed them. And while he was blessing them he was parted from them, and carried up into heaven. And while they looked steadfastly toward heaven, as he went up, behold two men stood by them in white apparel, which said, Ye men of Galilee, why stand ye gazing up into heaven? This same Jesus, which is taken up from you into heaven, shall so come in like manner as ye have seen him go into heaven." With your own eyes you shall see the fulfillment of this prophecy. Every eye shall see him. The clouds of heaven shall then reveal the vision now sketched on the page of revelation: "And I saw a great white throne, and Him that sat on it, from whose face the earth and the heaven fled away, and there was found no place for them. And I saw the dead, small and great, stand before God; and the books were opened; and another book was opened, which is the Book of Life; and the dead were judged out of those things which were written in the books, according to their works. And the sea gave up the dead which were in it; and death and hell delivered up the dead which were in them; and they were judged every man according to their works. And death and hell were cast into the lake of fire. This is the second death. And whosoever was not found written in the Book of Life was cast into the lake of fire. And I saw a new heaven and a new earth: for the first heaven and the first earth were passed away; and there was no more sea. And I John saw the holy city, New Jerusalem, coming down from God, out of heaven, prepared as a bride adorned for her husband. And I heard a great voice out of heaven, saying, Behold the tabernacle of God is with men, and he will dwell with them, and they shall be his people, and God himself shall be with them, and be their God. And God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes; and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow nor crying: neither shall there be any more pain; for the former things are passed away. And he that sat upon the throne said, _Behold, I make all things new._ And he said unto me, WRITE, FOR THESE WORDS ARE TRUE AND FAITHFUL." FOOTNOTES: [81] Jewish Church, 463, 4. The Bible, 80. [82] De Die Natali, c. 17, cited in Pusey on Daniel, 642. [83] Isaiah, chap. xlvi. 8-11. [84] Newton on the Prophecies, and Keith on the Prophecies, are to be found in all respectable libraries. The former contains valuable extracts from ancient historians; the latter from the journals and engravings of travelers. [85] Wilkinson's Ancient Egyptians, I. 169. Herodotus, II. 169. [86] Ezekiel, chap. xxx. [87] Volney's Travels, I. 74, 103. [88] Decline and Fall, chap. lix. [89] Ezekiel, chap. xxix. [90] Volney, I. 190. [91] Jeremiah, chaps. l. and li. [92] Mignon's Travels, 31. [93] Trans. Bombay Lit. Soc. I. 123. [94] Porter's Babylonia, II. 285. [95] Ezekiel, chap. xxvi. [96] Ezekiel, chap. xxv. [97] Lindsay's Travels, II. 78, 117. [98] Isaiah, chap. xiii. [99] Isaiah, chap. xiv. [100] Jeremiah, chap. li. [101] Mignon, 139. [102] Jeremiah, chap. li. [103] Fraser's Mesopotamia, page 145. [104] Leviticus, chap. xxvi. [105] Isaiah, chap. vi. [106] Deuteronomy, chap. xxix. [107] Volney's Ruins of Empires, Book I. [108] Luke, chap. xxi. [109] Micah, chap. iii. Matthew, chap. xxii. [110] Ammianus Marcellus, 23d chap. I. [111] Genesis, chap. xvi. 12. [112] Numbers, chap. xxiii. [113] Leviticus, chap. xxvi. [114] Amos, chap. ix. [115] Deuteronomy, chap. xxviii. [116] Leviticus, chap. xxvi. [117] Porter's Giant Cities of Bashan, passim. [118] Decline and Fall, chap. lxiv. [119] Macfarlane's Seven Apocalyptic Churches. CHAPTER IX. MOSES AND THE PROPHETS. In the foregoing chapters we have found, that we have great need of God's teaching; that he has sent his Son, Jesus Christ, to show us the way of life; that the gospel preached by him and his apostles has proved itself the power of God, by saving men from their sins; and that this gospel is truly recorded in the New Testament. From these facts, already settled, we proceed, according to our plan of investigation, to examine those which may be more obscure; to examine the Old Testament by the light of the New. The great majority of Jews and Christians have always believed, that the world was in as great need of God's teaching before the coming of Christ as it has been since; that God did put his words into the mouths of certain persons, called prophets; and that he caused them to tell them truly to their neighbors; that he enabled these prophets to make predictions of future events beyond the skill of man to calculate, and to do miracles which the power of man could not perform, as proofs that they spake the Word of God; that he caused them truly to record in writing a great many of these revelations, and so much of the history of the times in which, and of the people to whom, they were given, as was needful for a right understanding of them; that he has so managed matters since, as that these revelations and narratives have been faithfully preserved in the books of the Old Testament; that we are bound to believe these revelations to be true, not because we can otherwise demonstrate their truth, but because God, who can not lie, has declared it; and that we are bound to do the things they command, not merely because we see them to be right, but because God commands us. It is needful to consider the divine authority of the Old Testament distinctly from that of the New, not only because it is a distinct subject in itself, and because our plan of investigation leads us backward from the known and established fact of the divine authority of the New Testament to the discovery or disproof of the like character in the Old; but because a great many persons admit, in words at least, that Christ was a teacher sent from God, who, either in so many words, or in effect, deny the divine authority of the Old Testament. Some of the modern Rationalists have revived the creed of the Gnostics of the first century--that the Hebrew Jehovah was a being of very different character from the Deity revealed by Jesus Christ. They will extol to the skies the world-wide benevolence, compassion and kindness of the gospel of Christ, in contrast with the alleged national pride, bigotry, and exclusiveness of the Hebrew prophets. Others are desirous of appearing remarkably candid in bestowing on the Old Testament a liberal commendation as a collection of religious tracts of merely human origin, and of various degrees of merit; some of them of extraordinary literary excellence, well suited to the infancy of the human intellect, and highly useful in their time in raising men from fetichism and idolatry to the worship of one God; but which, containing many errors along with this grand truth, have been set aside by the more perfect teachings of Christ and his apostles, much in the same way as the old Ptolemaic astronomy was displaced by the discoveries of Newton. Others still are willing to acknowledge the Old Testament as inspired, provided we will allow Shakespeare and the Koran to be inspired also. Besides all these, there are several scores of scholars anxious to conceal its nakedness under theories of inspiration made and trimmed in a great many styles, but all cut from the same doctrine, to wit, that God revealed his truth aright to Moses and the prophets, but they went wrong in the telling of it. Now, all these notions are refuted by the fact, that God is the Author of the Bible. When we say that God is the Author of the Bible, and that it carries with it a divine authority because it is the Word of God, we do not mean that God is the Author of every saying in it, and that every sentiment recorded in it is God's mind, any more than we mean to make D'Aubigne responsible for every sentiment of priests, popes and monks which he has faithfully recorded in his History of the Reformation. On the contrary, we find, in the very beginning of the Bible, a very full expression of the devil's sentiments recorded in the devil's own words--_Ye shall not surely die_--and they are not one whit less devilish and lying, though recorded in the Bible, than when expounded by any modern Universalist preacher. But we mean that it is very true that the devil was the preacher of that first Universalist sermon: and that God thought it needful to let mankind know the shape of the doctrine, the character of the preacher, and the consequences of listening to error; and therefore directed Moses to record it truly for the information of all whom it may concern. So there are many other sayings of wicked men, and even of good men, recorded in the Bible, which are very false; but the Bible gives a true record of them, by God's direction, that we may not be ignorant of Satan's devices. Nor, when we say that God directed the prophets what to write, and how to write it, so that they did not go wrong in the writing of his word, do we mean that he also so guided every piece of their behavior, as that they never went wrong in doing their own actions; nor that the sins of the saints, recorded in the Bible, are anything the less sinful for being recorded there, or for being performed by men who ought to have known better. There is not a perfect man upon the earth, that doeth good, and sinneth not. If the Bible had left the faults of its writers undiscovered it would not have been a true history. But these very writers of the Bible tell us their own transgressions, under the direction of the Spirit of God; a thing writers in general are very shy about. Moses tells us how he spake unadvisedly with his lips, and was punished for it. David's penitential psalms record the bitter tears he wept over his transgression; tears which could not wash out the sentence against the man after God's own heart--_the sword shall never depart from thy house_. An overburdened people, a rotten court, a falling empire, continual strife, a family of scolding women, and a foolish son--might have been considered sufficient marks of God's displeasure, without causing the wisest of men to pen, and publish to the world, such a minute record of his madness, folly and misery, as we find in Ecclesiastes. But these shipwrecked mariners were divinely directed to pile up the sad memorials of their errors on the reefs where they were wrecked, as beacons of warning to all inexperienced voyagers on life's treacherous sea. The light-house is built by the same authority as the custom-house, and is even more necessary. Now let us take note of the objects of our investigation. We are not in search of the literary beauty or poetic inspiration of the Bible; but we inquire by what right does it command our obedience? Nor are we about to inquire whether, when we have tried the Bible at the tribunal of our reason, we shall give it a diploma to commend it to the patronage of other critics; but whether it comes to us attested by such evidence of being the Word of God, that our reason shall reverently bow down before it as a higher authority, and seek light from it by which to judge of all spiritual and moral matters. Attempts are continually made to confuse these great questions, by concessions of the literary excellence of the Bible, on the part of those who deny its divine authority. For instance, one of the modern oracles of infidelity says, and his admirers incessantly repeat the grand discovery: "The writings of the Prophets contain nothing above the reach of the human faculties. Here are noble and spirit-stirring appeals to men's conscience, patriotism, honor and religion; beautiful poetic descriptions, odes, hymns, expressions of faith almost beyond praise. But the mark of human infirmity is on them all, and proofs or signs of miraculous inspiration are not found in them."[120] But what do the toiling millions of earth care about beautiful poetic descriptions of a heaven and a hell that have no reality? Or what does it signify to you or me, reader, that the Bible raises its head far above the other cedars of earthly literature? If its top reaches not to heaven, can it make a ladder long enough to carry us there? The Bible contains predictions beyond the reach of the human faculties, as we have fully proved. These predictions at least are from God, and have no mark of human infirmity on them. It does not at all meet this question to grant that the Bible is inspired, just as every work of genius is inspired; nor to profess that they believe the Bible to be from God, just as every pure and holy thought, and every good work, proceed from him. When the assertors of the divine authority of the Bible speak of it as inspired, they mean that it is so as no other book is; and when they speak of it as coming from God, they mean that it does not come simply as a gift of God's bounty, as the soldier's land-warrant comes from the government; but that it comes like the laws of Congress, carrying authority with it to command our obedience. We feel no interest whatever in the discussion of an inspiration, "like God's omnipotence, not limited to the few writers claimed by the Jews, Christians and Mohammedans, but as extensive as the race;"[121] or perhaps as extensive as all creation, and leading us to regard even "the solemn notes of the screech owl" as inspired.[122] What manner of use could the Bible be to an ignorant soul groping its way to truth and holiness, or to a dying sinner hastening to the judgment seat of God, if it were true, that "the Bible's own teaching on the subject is that everything good in any book, person or thing, is inspired? Milton and Shakespeare, and Bacon and the Canticles, the Apocalypse and the Sermon on the Mount, and the Eighth Chapter of the Romans are all inspired. How much inspiration they respectively contain must be gathered from their results."[123] This liberal grant of inspiration, alike to Moses and Mohammed, to Christ and to Shakespeare, is evidently a denial of divine authority to any of them. If Hamlet, and the Sermon on the Mount, and the Koran, are all of a like divine authority, or all alike without any, it is merely a matter of taste whether I worship at Niblo's or the Tabernacle, or keep a harem in my house or a prayer-meeting. Most men, however, find it hard to believe that Christ and Mohammed taught exactly the same religion, or that the church and the theater are precisely equal and alike in their influences on the heart and life; and so they reject several of these inspired men, and cleave to the one they like best. Whereas, if this theory be true, they ought not to act in such a disrespectful way toward any inspired man; but ought to attend the church, the theater and the harem with equal regularity, and serve God, Mammon and Belial with equal diligence. "Oh," it is replied, "they are not all inspired in the same degree. It does not follow that because Byron, and Shakespeare, and Paul are all inspired, that their writings will produce exactly the same results, or that they are alike suitable for every constitution and temper. How much inspiration they severally possess must be determined by their results. The tree is known by its fruits; and experience is the price of truth." But truth may be bought too dear. I am sick and need some medicine, but know not exactly what kind, or how much to take. "Here," says my Rationalist friend, "is a whole drug store for you. Every drawer, and pot, and bottle is full of medicine. Help yourself." But, my good sir, how am I to know what kind will suit me? There are poisons here, as well as medicines; and I can not tell the difference between arsenic and calomel. One of my neighbors died the other day from swallowing oxalic acid instead of Glauber's salts. Be kind enough to put the poisons on one shelf, and the medicines on the other, or, at least, to label them, so that I may know which to choose and which to refuse. "Oh," says my Rationalist friend, "this distinction between medicines and poisons is all an antiquated, vulgar prejudice. What you call poisons are really medicines. Medical virtue is not confined to the few specifics recognized by the Homeopathics, the Regular Faculty, or the Hydropathics, but is as extensive as the world. Everything on earth has a medical virtue; but how much, and of what sort, must be determined by experience. In fact, you must try for yourself whether any particular drug will kill you, or cure you. So here is the whole drug store to begin your cure with." A valuable gift, truly! "In the day we eat thereof, our eyes will be opened, and we shall be as gods, knowing good and evil." I think, reader, you and I will let somebody else try that experiment. "Why should men throw away their common sense, and swallow everything as inspired?" says another friend of the Rationalistic school. "God has given us reason to discern between good and evil, and commanded us to use it. _Prove the spirits, whether they be of God._ _I spake as to wise men._ _Judge ye what I say_, is the language of Scripture. The right of private judgment is the inalienable inheritance of Protestants. I am for examining the Bible according to the principles of reason and truth. 'That only is to be regarded as true and valid which is matter of personal conviction.' The Old Testament is in many places contrary to my convictions of truth and reason. I find that it consists of a great variety of treatises of various degrees of merit. Even in the same book it presents often strange contrasts--sublime moral precepts on one page; on the next, solemn requirements of frivolous ceremonies, utterly unworthy of God; or solemn narrations of miraculous interferences with the established course of nature, which, taken literally, are absolutely incredible. The judicious reader must therefore discriminate between those divine precepts of morality which were infused into the minds of the Hebrew sages, and those Jewish prejudices which their education and character inclined them to regard as equally important; and he must divest the narrative of facts as they actually occurred, from the national legends and traditions which the compilers of the Pentateuch added to adorn the history." This, it will be seen, at once raises another and very important question, namely: By what standard are the writings of the Old Testament to be judged? Or rather it settles the question by taking it for granted, that every inquirer is to judge them according to his own notions of reason and truth. But this does not help me out of my difficulty; for it supposes me already to possess the knowledge, and the virtue, which a revelation from God is needed to communicate. If I am able, by my own reason, to construct a perfect standard of morals to judge the Bible by, what need have I for the Bible revelation? And if I have the right to refuse obedience to any commands I may judge frivolous or unreasonable, before I know whether they came from God or not, and am bound to obey only those which agree with my notions of right, what authority has the law of God? A revelation from God which should submit its truths to be judged by the ignorance, and its commands by the inclinations, of sinful men, would by that very submission declare its worthlessness. The use of a divine revelation is either to tell us some truth of which we are ignorant, or to enjoin some duty to which we are disinclined. Besides, it is not possible to make any such dissection of the moral precepts of the Bible, from the miraculous history which forms their skeleton, as will leave them either truth or authority. It is the miraculous history that gives sanction to the divine morality, and without it the ten commandments would have no more hold on any man's conscience than the wise saws which Poor Richard says. Take, for instance, one of the first and most important of the Bible moralities--the sacredness of marriage--which is wholly based upon a narrative of events utterly unparalleled; and, if judged by the usual course of nature, perfectly incredible. The original difference in the formation of man and woman, and God's making at first one man and one woman, and joining them together with his blessing, constitute the reasons, and consecrate the pledge of marriage. "_For this cause shall a man leave his father and mother_--although the claims of the parental relation are very strong--_and cleave to his wife_--with whom it may be he has but a few weeks' acquaintance--_and they two shall be one flesh_. _What therefore God hath joined together let no man put asunder._" But if the cause had no existence, save in the brain of some antediluvian novel-writer, and God did not so unite them, the consequence is only a notion also, and any man may leave his wife whenever he likes. By far the most incredible narrative in the Bible is contained in the first verse: "_In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth._" All the other miracles recorded in it sink into familiarity compared with this stupendous display of the supernatural. To the believer of this first great miracle none of its subsequent narratives can seem incredible. But it is precisely upon this unexampled and incredible narrative that the whole structure of Bible morality is built. If this extraordinary narrative be rejected as false, all the moral precepts of the Bible are not worth a feather. The morality of the Bible, then, stands or falls with its history of God's supernatural works among men. It has been argued, that no amount of testimony can authenticate accounts of miracles; since a miracle, being a violation of the laws of nature, is contradicted by an unalterable experience, but only supported by fallible human testimony. But every step of this sophism is in error. A miracle can not be proven to be any more a violation of the laws of nature, than the existence of the nature regulated by laws. It may be more unusual, but not more supernatural. The restoration of life to a dead man is no greater violation of the laws of nature than the first bestowal of life on dead matter. Were the resurrections as common as childbirths nobody would consider them violations of the laws of nature. Moreover, our knowledge of the laws of nature is not based upon my experience, or yours, but upon the testimony of our teachers; which, so far from being uniform and invariable as to the supremacy of the commonplace in nature, is perfectly conclusive as to the repeated occurrence of the miraculous. The miracles of Scripture are better authenticated than the facts of science. Scientific men talk a great deal of nonsense about the laws of nature, as if they were the only agents known in this world. But every man knows that he himself possesses the power to control the laws of nature, by bringing a higher law to arrest a lower; as when the power of vegetation arrests the law of gravitation, and sends the drop of rain which had trickled down the outside of the bark of the pine, climbing up again a hundred feet; or as when the power of animal life converts a hundred weight of grass into a leg of mutton; or as when the power of the human intellect transforms a pound of zinc into telegrams, or a ton of niter and sulphur into death and destruction. Now if man can thus control and use the laws of nature for human purposes, why can not the God who made him so cunning do as much? Aye, and as much more as God is greater than man? But we are told that no testimony can prove that any wonderful work has been wrought by God. "No testimony can reach to the supernatural; testimony can apply only to apparent sensible facts; testimony can only prove an extraordinary, and perhaps inexplicable, phenomenon or occurrence; that it is due to supernatural causes is entirely dependent on the previous belief or assumption of the parties."[124] But when Christ said, "If I cast out devils by the Spirit of God, then the kingdom of God is come unto you;" or when he said, at the grave of Lazarus, to Martha, "Said I not unto thee that if thou wouldest believe thou shouldest see the glory of God?" can we not believe our Lord's testimony, that he cast out devils, and raised the dead, by the direct intervention of God? He appeals to his miracles as evidences of his divine authority: "The works that I do in my Father's name, they bear witness of me." "If I do not the works of my Father, believe me not. But if I do though ye believe not me, believe the works; that ye may know and believe that the Father is in me, and I in him."[125] Now I demand to know whether this testimony of our Lord is not to be believed? And whether he does not directly claim to work miracles by the immediate power of God? The testimony of the man whom God authenticates, by enabling him to do such miracles as those of Moses and of Christ, is conclusive as to the power by which they are wrought. So you read in Exodus iii. that God commissioned Moses to work miracles as signs of his divine commission, and seals of his testimony recorded in the Bible. If we proceed now to examine the facts of this history, it is evident, that neither your reason or mine, nor our personal convictions, can be any rule of what is true and valid. The most that reason can say about history is, that the story seems probable; but so does any well-written novel; or that it is improbable; but truth is often stranger than fiction; and every genuine history relates wonderful events. Neither does our personal knowledge enable us to tell what was the original historical fact, how much was added by the Hebrew prejudices of Moses, and which are the legends with which it was afterward adorned; for neither you nor I were there to see. Nor can any two of those critics, who have undertaken to divide the facts from the fables according to their personal convictions of what is true and valid, agree upon any common principle of gleaning, or in gathering in their results. And if they could, the crop would not be worth barn-room; for the only conclusion in which they seem at all likely to agree is, that the story of creation in the beginning of the Book is a myth, like one of Ovid's Metamorphoses; and that the prophecy of the resurrection, at the end, is another; and that there are a great many legends in the middle. Now, if so, why winnow such chaff? But while the Jewish people exist as a distinct race, it is impossible rationally to deny some extraordinary origin of their extraordinary character and customs; and the Bible is the only history which pretends to tell it. The utter failure of Rationalistic criticism to give any rational account of the facts which must be admitted to account for the existence of the Jews as a distinct people, is ludicrously apparent in the attempts generally made to explain the miraculous narratives of the Bible. The tree of good and evil was a poisonous plant, like the poison oak, or the machineal tree, under which our first parents fell asleep, and dreamed about the temptation, and the fall. The shining face of Moses was the natural effect of electricity. Zechariah's vision was the smoke of the lamps of the golden candlestick in the temple. The wise men of the East were some peddlers who presented toys to the child Jesus; and the star which went before, their servant carrying a torch. The angels who ministered to Christ in his temptation were a caravan bearing provisions. The transfiguration was an electric storm. The plagues of Egypt, the passage of the Red Sea, and the miracles of the desert, were merely natural phenomena, dextrously used by Moses and Aaron to suit their purpose. It is alleged that these enthusiastic patriots, full of the superstitions of an early age, which attributed all prodigies to God, and placed all heroes under his guidance, succeeded by their fiery eloquence in inspiring their captive countrymen with the love of liberty; and had political dexterity enough to create a faction in their favor in the Egypt cabinet. Then taking advantage of a fortunate succession of calamities arising from natural causes--such as an extraordinary rising of the Nile, in consequence of which it was more deeply colored than usual with the red mud of Nubia, and overflowed the country to a greater extent than usual, leaving on its retreat numerous ponds, which, of course, bred swarms of frogs and gnats, and raised malaria, spreading various sicknesses over the land, both to man and beast; a devastating visit of locusts, the well-known scourge of Africa; a remarkable thunder-storm, accompanied with hail, causing great havoc of growing crops, as such hail-storms always do; followed by the chamsin, or dust-storm from the desert, darkening the air with clouds of dust and sand; and by an extraordinary mortality, the natural result of these various causes--they persuaded the superstitious Egyptians that these calamities were tokens of the displeasure of the God of the Hebrews, and improved the opportunity to escape, while the resources of the Egyptians were exhausted, and their minds confounded by these various misfortunes. Leading them to that part of the Red Sea south of Suez, where a succession of shoals stretch across from the Egyptian to the Arabian side, they crossed safely at low water, while the Egyptian army perished by the rising of the tide; and the Israelites betaking themselves to a wandering, pastoral life in the wilderness of Arabia, lived, as the Bedouins do at this day, on the milk of their flocks and the manna which was spontaneously produced by the tamarisk trees of Sinai; where they remained until they had framed a civil and religious code, and whence they prosecuted their conquests in various directions for fifty years, until their invasion of Palestine. This is the sum of what, with various modifications, Rationalist writers and preachers present us, as the genuine historic basis of the Mosaic narrative. It really does seem to have been very fortunate for the Israelites that so many misfortunes should happen to fall upon their oppressors, all in one season, and just at the time that men of such cleverness as Moses and Aaron were among them; and that the Egyptians should luckily have imbibed the superstition, that all nature was under the direction of a Supreme Moral Governor, who was able and willing to wield all the elements for the punishment of oppressors. It was also very lucky for these poor, overworked, and oppressed slaves--the class which in all other ages and countries suffers most from hard times--that they should have escaped unhurt by these calamities; for if they had suffered by them as well as the Egyptians, they could not have persuaded them that God favored Israel. Here one can not but wonder that these learned Egyptians, whose colleges of priests were planted on the banks of the Nile, and who had made the climate, soil, and productions of their native land their constant study, should have been so ignorant of these natural causes of the plagues--so easily discovered nowadays by anybody who makes a summer trip to Egypt--as to be terrified into emancipating their slaves by a stormy season. Just imagine to yourself a couple of abolitionist lecturers proceeding to Lexington and commanding the slaveholders of Kentucky to liberate their slaves immediately, on pain of the Ohio being muddy during high water, and the swamps of the river-bottom being full of frogs and musquitoes! But this interpretation does not reach the climax of absurdity till our Rationalist Punch, by way of signalizing his deliverance from Egyptian bondage, makes Pharaoh and his army forget that the tide ebbs and flows in the Red Sea, raises the tide over a shoal faster than cavalry could gallop from it, gathers an annual crop of twenty millions of bushels of manna from the thorn-bushes of Sinai, and feeds three millions of men, women, and children for forty years upon purgative medicine!!! "We must then give up the problem as insoluble; for if reason be insufficient to give authority to the Bible, and criticism fails to discover its truth, how are we to know that it possesses either?" Just as you would discover the truth of any other history, or the authority of any other law. You do not say, "The tale of the successive swellings of the Catawba, the Yadkin, and the Dan--three times in a fortnight, in February, 1781, immediately after the American army had retreated across these rivers, preventing Cornwallis and the British forces from crossing till the little handful of weary and famished patriots had escaped--savors of the marvelous and leans so much toward the superstition of a special providence, that it must be rejected as not historical." You inquire if there be sufficient testimony to the fact. You do not say, "The Revised Statutes present internal evidence of being a collection of political tracts by various authors, written at different times, differing also in style, and of various degrees of merit, many of them contrary to my inmost personal convictions; therefore I can not acknowledge them as true and valid." You simply ask if this be a true copy of the laws passed by the legislature and signed by the governor? Our inquiry about the truth of the history, and the authority of the laws of the Bible, must be of the same kind--an inquiry after testimony. Is this Book genuine or a forgery? Is it a true history or a lying romance? Have we any testimony on the subject? But it is alleged that the Book contains in itself evidence of having been written in an unscientific age, and in an unhistorical manner; and, particularly, that its statements of the creation of the world, and of mankind, only six thousand years ago, are refuted by the discoveries of geology; which show us, that the world is many millions of years old, and that man has been on this world at least one hundred thousand years. In support of this last assertion, geologists refer to the remains of the lake dwellings in Switzerland; to skeletons of men found in caves, with bones of animals now extinct; to flint tools and weapons found in gravel beds, said to be of remote antiquity; to bones found deep in the Mississippi bottom; and to the monuments of Egypt. In replying to this objection, we have first to say that we have elsewhere, in this volume, shown that the Bible nowhere alleges that God created the earth only six thousand years ago, but in many places emphatically affirms the contrary. In the second place, as to the antiquity of man, the Bible nowhere says, that Adam was the first human being whom God created; nor that he and his posterity were the only intelligent beings occupying this world before our tenancy of it; nor that we are even now the exclusive occupants. On the contrary, it makes very distinct allusions to other races, capable of assuming serpentine, swinish, and human bodies, and of meddling disastrously in earthly affairs in former times; though, as it does not profess to teach us truths which do not concern us, it gives us no narration of the creation or history of pre-Adamite animals or men. But there is no more ground of objection against the Bible for neglecting to give us a history of pre-Adamite men, if there were such men, than for neglecting to describe the pre-Adamite animals, or the coal measures, or the nebulæ, or the climate, soil, population, and politics of Jupiter. The Bible has one great object--to teach men how to be holy and happy; and it can not be shown that the chronicles of the pre-Adamites, if they kept chronicles of their alleged savage state, would help us in the acquisition of holiness. No discoveries, then, which geologists may make of pre-Adamite races of men, can at all affect the credit of Moses' account of the creation of Adam, and of the history of his family. They may fill museums, if they please, with their flint arrow-heads and axes, they may pile up pyramids of stone mortars, they may perhaps some day discover an old-world bronze railroad, and bronze-clad or copper-bottomed steamboats, they may produce pre-Adamic electric, aeronautic engines, and magnetic sewing machines, or bone needles, we care not which; and we will admire them, and confess that they are very curious, and perhaps very old; but unless they can show that Adam was descended from these old-world folks, we have no biblical quarrel with them. Like Moses, we will let them rest in peace. But we would remark, thirdly, that no such discoveries have yet been made. No human bone, implement, or monument, has yet been discovered which can be proved to be more ancient than Adam, or nearly so ancient. There is not a single indisputable fact to show, that any of the tools, bones, or monuments; alleged in this discussion, is of any specific date whatever, save that the Danish bogs came down to the date of the Danish invasion of Ireland in the eleventh century; the burnt corn of the Swiss lake dwellings was probably that which Julius Cæsar describes the Helvetians as burning preparatory to their invasion of Gaul; and the monuments of Egypt, for which Bunsen claimed twenty thousand years, are now acknowledged by the best Egyptologists to reach not quite to 3000 B. C. As to the bone found at the base of the bluff at Memphis, it was not found _in situ_, and probably was washed out of some Indian grave at the top, and buried in the _debris_. The Abbeville skull[126] _had a fresh tooth in it_, for which thirty-five thousand years was claimed, until examination by a competent committee exposed the deception. Where there is a good paying demand for pre-Adamite skulls, there will always be a good supply. Dr. Dowler calculates the age of a skeleton of an Indian, found at the depth of sixteen feet in digging the gas works at New Orleans, at fifty thousand years; while the U. S. Coast Surveying Department show that the whole Delta is not more than four thousand four hundred years old. These gross errors, which affront our common sense, wherever we are able to test geological calculations, fill us with mistrust of their allegations of evidence, which, from the nature of the case, we can not test. Of this class is the discovery of human bones in caves containing the bones of cave bears, rhinocerii, mammoths, and other extinct animals. The argument is that man and these animals lived at the same time. Very well, what time was that? There is no evidence to show that it was a hundred thousand years ago. The Siberian hunters fed their dogs on the flesh of a mammoth they found frozen in mud bluffs at the mouth of the Lena, and its hair and wool are now in the museum of St. Petersburg. Dr. Warren's _mastodon giganteus_ had some bushels of pine and maple twigs, in excellent preservation, in its stomach, when exhumed in Orange County, New York; and you may see for yourself the vegetable fiber found in its teeth in his museum in Boston.[127] Does any one believe that the vegetable fiber and maple twigs have kept their shape one hundred thousand years? The mammoth found in the ditch of the Tezcucoco road must have fallen in after the Incas had dug that ditch. The Indians have a tradition that their fathers hunted a huge deer with a hand on his face, which slept leaning against the trees. And there is good geological reason for believing that the final extinction of the mammoth, the European rhinoceros, and their contemporaries, was caused by the change of climate in Northern Europe, Asia, and America, caused by the elevation of these northern lands, which has been going on since the tenth century, and which, about three centuries ago, closed the Polar Sea, rendering Greenland uninhabitable. The juxtaposition, then, of the bones of man and extinct animals is no proof of the remote antiquity of either. And no proof has been made from the nature or depth of the overlying deposits. The shape, size, and general character of the skulls alleged to be of such remote antiquity give no countenance to the theory of man's brutal origin; which is the great thing to be gained by giving him a remote antiquity. The Enghis skull is in no way inferior to many good modern Indian skulls; and the man of Mentone stood six feet one in his stocking soles (if he wore stockings), having a good John Bull head between his shoulders, with a facial angle equal to that of Generals Grant or Von Moltke; and in fact being a fine old Gallic gentleman, all of the good old times. Geologists, however, lay stress on the cumulative character of the evidence they produce; owning that no single fact is conclusive, but claiming that credence should be given to the accumulation of facts. But no accumulation of ciphers will amount to anything. All the alleged facts are found to be fatally defective either in authenticity or definiteness. No multitude of doubts can assure us of the certainty of a fact or assertion. The evidence for the pre-Adamite antiquity of man is only a gathering of facts doubtful, and wholly indeterminate, without any element of proof of remote antiquity.[128] But there is a source of evidence of the most undeniable character, to which we may appeal for a decision of the subject. The law of population is as certain as any other law of nature; and it tends to the regular increase of mankind. Population tends to double itself every twenty-five years, as we see in the United States. In less favored countries the rate is not so rapid. In Europe it doubles every fifty years; and nowhere in less than two centuries. And the result is, that if the human race had existed on this earth under existing laws of nature, as the evolutionists allege, for one hundred thousand years, not only must they have multiplied until their bones would have covered the earth, and filled the sea, but, as Sir John Herschel shows, they would have formed a vertical column, having for its base the whole surface of the earth, and for its height three thousand six hundred and seventy-four times the sun's distance from the earth![129] The existing population of the globe corresponds pretty well to the natural increase of three pairs in forty centuries, which is something near to the Bible chronology. The laws of population, then, inexorably refuse the indefinite, or even the remote antiquity of mankind, and vindicate Moses as a writer of truthful history. The alleged anachronisms of the Pentateuch have been adduced as testimony that it could not have been written till long after the time of Moses. These alleged anachronisms are generally the insertion of a modern name of a city instead of the ancient name, or an explanatory addition which would not have been necessary in the days of Moses. Now if all these cases could be proved, they would at most only show that the scribes who copied the manuscripts in later ages had inserted these explanatory changes or additions, under proper authority. Everybody's common sense will tell him, that Moses did not narrate his own death in the last chapter of Deuteronomy; but it is none the less true though Joshua, or some other prophet, added that postscript. But Hengstenberg has[130] examined these alleged anachronisms in detail, and shown that the objectors allow themselves to interpolate into the text a meaning of their own in order to show the inaccuracy of the Bible. For instance, Genesis xii. 6, "The Canaanite was then in the land," they maintain could only be written after the Canaanites had been driven out. They interpolate _still_, which is not in the text. But they entirely mistake the meaning of the passage, which refers to an earlier statement of the same fact, chapter x. 15, to show that Abraham, the heir of the promise, came as a stranger and a pilgrim to a land preoccupied by a powerful people, who are again mentioned, chapter xiii. 7, for the purpose of showing how Lot and Abraham came to be so crowded as to separate. Another of the prominent instances is the name of the ancient city of Hebron, which, in the book of Joshua, is said to have been anciently called Kirjath-arba. But Numbers xiii. 22, which states that Hebron was built seven years before Zoan in Egypt, and was the residence of Ahiman, Sheshai, and Talmai, the sons of Anak, shows that the writer was well acquainted with the history of the place, and Genesis xxxv. 27 shows that Hebron was the first name, and that it had two other names added to it, both after the time of Abraham, since Mamre was his contemporary, and the Anakim lived centuries later. This may stand for a specimen of the alleged anachronisms of the Pentateuch. But now comes Bishop Colenso with his slate and pencil to demonstrate to us that, no matter who wrote it, or by what external authority it is commended, the Pentateuch is so full of arithmetical errors, and of impossible narratives, in its accounts of common affairs, as well as in its miraculous stories, that not only is it not the Word of God, but that it is not even a truthful history, and stands self-convicted of being a collection of fables. Of course, if that can be proved, there is an end of the matter, though it would still seem strange that it should have been left for the bishop to discover Moses' ignorance of arithmetic, and of camp-life among the Arabs. Nevertheless the very novelty of a bishop assaulting the Bible in such a style has secured for him a large number of readers, many of them ignorant enough to believe his assertions, though too indolent to test his calculations, or even to read the passages he criticises. This renders some notice of his criticisms necessary according to our plan of considering objections according to their popularity, rather than according to their merit. For, on examining the bishop's objections to the Bible, they are all found to arise from want of science, want of sense, or ignorance of Scripture--an inability to read the Scriptures in their original Hebrew, or even to cite them correctly in English. In some criticisms he contrives to compile these three kind of blunders into a single chapter, making a mosaic of very amusing reading indeed. Of course we can only give specimens of his peculiar style of attack on the Bible; for to expose all his blunders would require some volumes as large as his own. But we shall select illustrative instances of the bishop's blunders from each of the departments indicated above. As a specimen of the bishop's blunders in science, let us take the first which he offers--his attempt to convict Moses of a contradiction to geology in his account of the deluge. Bishop Colenso declares that the Bible teaches that the deluge was universal, and that this is contradicted, among other things, by certain geological discoveries, in Auvergne, of volcanic cones of light cinders, which would have been swept away by any such flood. Aye, if they had only been there at that time! But Eli de Beaumont, a learned geologist, not convicted of so many blunders as the bishop, alleges that the whole of the system of Teanarus, including the elevation of Stromboli, and Ætna, has been formed since the catastrophe of the principal Alps; and that the volcanoes of Auvergne and the Vivarrus are of post-Adamic origin.[131] So the bishop's geology does not contradict what he thinks the Bible says after all. On the contrary, so far from geology contradicting a universal deluge, the best geologists speak of every part of the earth having been repeatedly under the sea, and they collect its fossils on the tops of the mountains. But the bishop ought to know that hundreds of years ago, before geology was born, some of the most learned bishops and theologians of his own Church, as well as some of the chief scholars of the dissenters, following the most learned of the Hebrew rabbis, did not believe that the Bible taught that the deluge was universal. For instance, Bishop Stillingfleet, in his great work, _Origines Sacra_, says: "I can not see any urgent necessity from the Scriptures to assert that the flood did spread over all the surface of the earth. That all mankind, those in the ark excepted, were destroyed by it, is most certain, according to the Scriptures. The flood was universal as to mankind, but from thence follows no necessity at all of asserting the universality of it as to the globe of the earth, unless it be sufficiently proved that the whole earth was peopled before the flood; which I despair of ever seeing proved." Matthew Poole says: "Where was the need of overwhelming those regions of the earth in which there were no human beings? It would be highly unreasonable to suppose that mankind had so increased before the deluge as to have penetrated to all the corners of the earth. It is indeed not probable that they had extended themselves beyond the limits of Syria and Mesopotamia. Absurd it would be to affirm that the effects of the punishment, inflicted upon men alone, applied to those places in which there were no men. If, then, we should entertain the belief that not so much as the hundredth part of the globe was overspread with water, still the deluge would be universal; because the extirpation took effect upon all the part of the globe then inhabited." Nor does the language of the Bible necessarily convey the idea that the whole surface of the globe was covered with water. Dathe, professor of Hebrew (in his _Opuscala ad Crisin_, edited by Rosenmuller, 1795), says: "Interpreters do not agree whether the deluge inundated the whole earth or only the regions then inhabited. I adopt the latter opinion. The phrase _all_ does not prove the inundation to have been universal. It appears that in many places _kol_ is to be understood as limited to the thing or place spoken of. Hence all the animals introduced into the ark were only those of the region inundated." But the most literal rendering of the language of Moses does not necessitate our belief that when he says that the waters covered the whole earth, _arets_, he meant the whole globe. The common Bible meaning of this word is land, country, or region, as the perpetually recurring phrases, the land, _arets_, of Havilah, the land of Nod, the land of Ethiopia, the land of Goshen, the land of Egypt, the land of Canaan, which occurs three hundred and ninety times, may convince every reader beyond the possibility of mistake. How now, from this word being used by Moses, could this learned bishop conclude that he necessarily meant to describe the globe? Moses says, "The waters prevailed upon and covered the whole country." The bishop translates, "covered the whole globe;" evidently in order to make Moses commit a blunder. But reference is made to the expression, "All the high hills under the whole heavens were covered;" which the bishop will have it meant all the mountains under the moon. But the popular use of the word "heavens," in Moses' day, had as little reference to universal space, as the word earth, or land, had to the whole globe. It meant simply the visible heavens over any place; and its extent was defined by the extent of the earth those visible heavens covered. Thus Moses himself defines it, Deuteronomy iv. 32: "Ask from the one side of heaven unto the other." Deuteronomy xxviii. 8: "Thy heaven over thee shall be as brass." Deuteronomy ii. 25: "This day I will begin to put the fear of thee upon the nations that are under the whole heaven." And so commonly throughout the Bible, "the clouds of heaven," "the fowls of heaven," refer to the optical heavens. Such is the meaning in Genesis. Noah describes the deluge as it appeared to him, as covering all the hills within the horizon of observation, and Moses copies Noah's log-book. The geologist adds his testimony to the existing evidences of the recent submergence of a large region of Persia and Turkey around the Caspian Sea, and its subsequent elevation. But it is no part of our business to show in what way God produced the deluge. Geology shows us, however, that the submergence of parts of the earth beneath the sea, and their subsequent elevation, is the most common of all geological phenomena; almost all existing continents and islands having been submerged. The bishop is as far behind the age in his astronomy as in his geology. He blindly follows the Infidels of the last century in their attack on Joshua's miracle, arresting the sun and moon, as inconsistent with their science; which taught the immobility of the sun and moon, it seems, and was entirely ignorant of the modern discovery of the grand motions of the fixed stars, including our sun, and of the dependence of all the planets, including our earth and moon, upon that grand motion for the motive power of their revolutions.[132] One wonders from what college the bishop came out ignorant of facts known to the boys of American common schools. A great many of the bishop's blunders are occasioned by want of sense. The process is very simple. The sacred history is very brief. Only the headings of things are recorded. Much must be supplied by the common sense of the reader. The manners of the East are very different from ours. Three thousand years have greatly changed the face of the country. Ignore all this, and interpret the Pentateuch as though it consisted of the letters of Our Own Correspondent, and you will find difficulties on every page. Such is the style of Colenso's criticism. Assume that Moses gives a full and complete chronicle of all events which have happened since the creation, and then dispute the recorded facts because it can easily be shown he omitted many. But the bishop has not the honor of discovering this method, or of founding this school of criticism. We have heard village critics of the loom and the forge discuss such questions as are handled by Colenso, and the Essays and Reviews, and often with much more acuteness and penetration. With what _eclat_ has our village critic unhorsed the itinerant preacher with the inquiry, What became of the forks belonging to the nine and twenty knives which Ezra brought back from Babylon? but was, alas! himself routed in the moment of triumph by the inquiry as to the sex of the odd clean beasts of Noah's sevens. How often has our village blacksmith critic requested a sermon upon the genealogy of Melchizedek, which the minister agreed to furnish when our blacksmith could tell him the foundry which manufactured Tubal Cain's hammer and anvil. Lot's wife, the witch of Endor, Jonah's whale, the sundial of Ahaz, and the population of Nineveh, were all duly discussed, together with the bodies in which the angels dined with Abraham. Did the loaves and fishes miraculously multiply in numbers, or increase in size? Where did the angel get the flour to bake the cake for Elijah? Did our Lord catch the fish by net, or by miracle, which he used in the Lord's Dinner on the shore of the Sea of Galilee. But _the_ question--which we marvel beyond measure that the bishop overlooks--always was, Where did Cain get his wife? This is the fundamental question for such critics. The difficulty, it will be perceived, lies across the very threshold of the history. How did he stumble over it without record of his misadventure? It recurs, however, on every page. If the bishop will only answer that question, and introduce us politely to Cain's wife, I will engage that she will answer most of these other difficult questions. Had Seth a wife? How could Noah and his three sons build a ship larger than the Great Eastern? We can imagine the roars of laughter with which the bigger school-boys will greet the serious exhibition of their old tests of dullness, in a printed book, and by a learned bishop, as objections to the inspiration of the Bible. But the bishop does actually devote Chapter V. to the impossibility of Moses addressing all Israel; Chapter VI. to the extent of the camp compared with the priest's duties; Chapter XX. to the grave difficulty of the three priestly families consuming the offerings of some millions of people; which surely to a bishop of the Church of England should not be an unparalleled feat. Such chapters enable us to appreciate the mental caliber of our critic, and excuse us from argument with a man incapable of interpreting popular phrases. He would prove the associated press dispatches all a myth, because it is impossible for the House of Commons to appear at the bar of the House of Lords--six hundred men to stand on four square yards of floor; for McClellan to address the Army of the Potomac, which extended along a line of thirty miles; for Grant and Sherman--two men--to capture Vicksburg and thirty thousand prisoners! Manifestly impossible. The most specious of all the sophistry spread over the volume is that contained in the Seventeenth Chapter, regarding the increase of Jacob's family, of seventy persons, to a nation of two or three millions, in Egypt, during the two hundred and fifteen years to which he confines the bondage. But it is only another case of Cain's wife. The Pentateuch gives us the list of Jacob's children and their wives, but makes no formal mention in that place of their servants and retainers. These, in Abraham's times, amounted to three hundred fencible men, or a population of fifteen hundred; who would have increased in Jacob's time to several thousands, capable of defending the border land of Goshen against the marauding Bedouin. And this population could easily increase to the three millions of the Exodus, at the same ratio in which the population of the United States is now increasing; so that it is a mere superfluity of naughtiness for the bishop to deny what the sacred historian so emphatically asserts: "That the people were fruitful, and increased abundantly, and multiplied, and the land was filled with them." But the bishop utterly ignores the people of the _clan_, and taking his slate and pencil ciphers out the impossibility of Jacob's _family_ amounting to so many. And yet it is not impossible that in the four hundred and thirty years which the sacred historian so precisely asserts as the period of their sojourn in Egypt, Exodus xii. 40, the family alone might have multiplied as fast as the family of the famous Jonathan Edwards, which, in a hundred years after his death, numbered two thousand souls. Peter Cartwright, the venerable Methodist minister, celebrated his eighty-seventh birthday on the first of September, 1871, at Pleasant Plains, Sangamon County, Illinois, surrounded by one hundred and twenty children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren. Now, if this family of two persons could so increase in eighty-seven years, why could not Jacob's family, of seventy persons, increase in equal ratio? In that case, even in the two hundred and fifteen years to which the bishop limits the sojourn in Egypt, the Israelites would have amounted to over eight millions. If it be objected that this was a case of special blessing, we answer that the Israelites are expressly asserted to have been specially and wonderfully multiplied. There is, therefore, no improbability in Moses' numbers. The bishop ascribes to Moses another of his own blunders; this time, however, in reading his Bible in plain English, which correctly translates the Hebrew--Exodus xiii. 2. The Lord commands Moses and Israel to "Sanctify to him every male that openeth the womb, both of man and beast," from the time of the death of the first-born of the Egyptians. The impropriety of _ex post facto_ legislation, the reason assigned for this law, and the grammatical meaning of the language in the present tense, all combine to show that the law is prospective; and the number of the first-born, twenty-two thousand two hundred and seventy-five, afterward given in Numbers, shows plainly that this is the meaning, being about the proper increase of thirteen months. But the bishop strangely blunders into the notion that this is the number of all the first-born of Israel; only about one in forty-five or fifty, and therefore argues against the historical veracity of the Pentateuch. A good many of the bishop's blunders arise in this way from misreading his Bible. He makes another blunder of this kind, and as usual charges it on Moses, in his misreading of Leviticus xxiii. 40, as if directing Israel to make booths of palm branches and willows at the feast of tabernacles, instead of bearing the palms of victory in triumph into the temple of God. The son of the chief rabbi of London ridicules the bishop's Hebrew scholarship here, saying that any Jewish child could have set him right; but had he read even his English translation carefully he need not have blundered here. In connection with the subject of the numbers of the people we notice his tacit assumption--that Moses records everything necessary for a statistical table--in his criticisms on the numbers of the Danites and Levites, Chapters XVIII. and XVI.; and on Judah's family, Chapter II. He takes it for granted that because the Exodus took place in the lifetime of the fourth generation of some of the sons of Jacob, therefore there were none but four generations born in the two hundred and fifteen years to which he confines the bondage, and none but those whose names are recorded. This is a blunder of the same sort as if he should mistake the list of the British peerage for a census of all the families of Great Britain, and calculate the average duration of human life by the ages of the Duke of Wellington and Lord Palmerston. But here we have a wonderful instance of the providence which often makes objectors refute themselves. The chapter on Judah's family (II.) shows that in forty-two years Judah had grandchildren ten or twelve years old; as many Syrians, Persians, and Hindoos have at this day. But if six generations could thus be born in Syria, or India, in a century, why not in Egypt? And 1 Chronicles vii. 20, 21 enumerates ten generations of the sons of Ephraim; giving ample opportunity for the biblical increase. Another set of the bishop's blunders is occasioned by his utter ignorance of camp-life, especially among the Arabs. In Chapter VIII. he assumes that all the people had tents, and the bishop orders them made of leather. But he concludes they could not possibly get them, nor if they had them could they carry them. By and by he provides them with two millions of cattle, however; and it is likely each of them had a skin, and was able to carry it for a while, while the Hebrews dwelt in the booths of the encampments they still commemorate in the feast of tabernacles. But the word "tents" is the common phrase for any kind of shelter in Scripture, including even houses in the expression, "To your tents, O Israel," used in the days of David. In Chapter IX. he discusses the probability of their obtaining arms in Egypt. A week with one of the Union armies would show him how speedily freedmen can provide themselves with arms and learn tactics; and a short residence in Ireland would teach him the utter impossibility of preventing a discontented people from arming themselves even with firearms; much more when every grove furnished artillery. He protests that all Egypt could not furnish lambs enough for the passover; because in Natal an acre will only graze one sheep, forgetting that Moses was not raising sheep in Natal, but in the best of the land of Goshen, which, if as fertile as the county of Dorset in England, would easily keep five millions of sheep. In Chapter X. he insists on the impossibility of giving warning of the passover, and subsequent march, in one day, to a population as large as London, scattered over two or three counties. Has he forgotten the straws carried over all Ireland in one night, and the Chupatties of the Indian Mutiny? The negro insurrection of Charleston was known by the negroes of Louisiana two days before their masters received the intelligence by mail. Critics know little of the power of the love of freedom. But there is no reason for the bishop's supposition that all the preparations for leaving were made in one day, save his own mistake of the Hebrew of Exodus xii. 12, as referring to the night of the day on which God spake to Moses, instead of the night of the day of which he was speaking, as the slightest reflection on the context shows. In Chapter XI. the bishop assumes the functions of Major-General, and masses his army--rank, and file, wagon train, hospital, commissariat, contrabands, droves of cattle, and camp followers--into a mass of fifty front and twenty-two miles long. Very naturally he gets into a tremendous jam, out of which we have no intention of extricating him; merely remarking that bishops do not make good generals, and that Arab Sheikhs do not march in that way. They scatter themselves and their cattle over the whole country for forty or fifty miles, and have no confusion; and attend moreover to Moses' sanitary camp regulations, in their several encampments. In Chapter XII. he exerts himself to starve the cattle for want of pasture and water; garbling Moses' account of the wilderness for that purpose, Deuteronomy viii. 15, "Beware that thou forget not Jehovah, thy God, who led thee through the great and terrible wilderness, wherein were fiery serpents, and scorpions, _where there was no water_." Here he stops, as if this was all that referred to the subject. But when we turn to the passage, we find that he omits the most material part of the speech. For Moses goes on to say, in the hearing of all Israel, who could certainly have contradicted him had the fact not been well known to them, "Who brought thee forth water out of the rock of flint." Moses' account is quite self-consistent, and the bishop's garbling of it is dishonest. There were districts of Arabia so dry and sterile that but for this miraculous supply both men and beasts had perished; but the greater part of the country was simply uninhabited pasture land, sufficiently productive even now to support several Arab tribes; and much better wooded and watered then. The monuments of Egypt abundantly testify the number and power of its shepherd kings, who pastured their flocks upon it in their successive invasions of Egypt. The bishop says, Chapter XIII., that the climax of inconsistencies between facts and figures is reached when we come to the notice by the Lord to Israel, contained in Exodus xxiii. 29, "I will not drive them, the Canaanites, out from before thee in one year, lest the land become desolate, and the beasts of the field multiply against thee." The argument is that a population of two millions was assigned to a territory of only eleven thousand square miles; and consequently would be more dense than the population of the agricultural region of England, where there is no danger of wild beasts multiplying. But the objection is again based on a blunder, and a garbling of the text of Scripture. Had the bishop done himself and his readers the justice to complete the passage which he has half cited, by inserting the next two verses, he could have read verse thirty-one: "And I will set thy bounds from the Red Sea even to the Sea of the Philistines, and from the desert unto the river," _i. e._, the Euphrates, as other passages show, Genesis xv. 18. That is to say, a territory five hundred miles long by one hundred miles broad, or fifty thousand square miles, was to be occupied by two millions of people. That is about the present population, and all travelers testify that three-fourths of it lies desolate. Prof. Porter saw seventy deserted towns and villages in Bashan alone. But for the rifle and gunpowder the wild beasts would now overpower the inhabitants. By a wonderful providence, contemporaneously with these attacks, the Lord has raised up an army of scholars, travelers, and archæologists, whose explorations illustrate the Bible in a remarkable manner, throwing new light upon its history, poetry, and prophecy. It is refreshing to turn from the cavils of ignorant criticism to the clear light of discovered facts and imperishable monuments. The Bible history has recently received a wonderful amount of illustration and confirmation from the researches of scholars and discoverers amid the ruins of Egypt, Persia, and Assyria; completely exploding the theory that this history was a comparatively recent composition, written long after the events which it records, and betraying its want of genuineness by the anachronisms and errors of description of historical and natural events with which it abounds. Wherever it differed from the statements of any Greek, or other heathen historian, it was forthwith alleged that Moses was wrong, and the profane author was right; and for a long time nobody could bring any evidence on the other side, because there were no contemporary records; the oldest heathen historian being a thousand years later than Moses. But by some strange inspiration, the Lord set a multitude of explorers to work upon the monuments of Egypt, deciphering the hieroglyphics which had so long puzzled the world, digging into the mounds which had for centuries covered the ruined palaces and cities of Persia and Assyria, and bringing to Europe ship-loads of recovered statues, marbles, cylinders, mummies, obelisks, papyrii, covered with all manner of pictures and inscriptions, civil, religious, and political, contemporary with the Bible history, and setting the best scholars of Europe to decipher and translate them. They are only, as yet, in the middle of their labors, but already so much has been discovered as to warrant the assertion that before they have finished they will furnish full corroboration of all the great outlines of Old Testament history. Egypt was the first to come forward in furnishing her quota of commentary to the corroboration of the Books of Moses. Hengstenberg's _Egypt and the Books of Moses_, Wilkinson's _Ancient Egyptians_, and Osburn's _Monumental History of Egypt_, furnish almost a commentary upon Moses' account of Egyptian affairs, confirming every biblical allusion to Egypt as historically correct, and revealing to us even the natural causes of the seven years high Nile and plenteous harvests; in the overflow of the great central lake in Nubia wearing away the embankment; and of the seven years subsequent low Nile and famine, by the drought consequent on this immense drainage. The very titles of Joseph as, "Director of the Full and Empty Irrigating Canals," "Steward of the Granaries," etc. etc., are still to be read on his tomb at Sakkarah,[133] and much more of the same sort. F. Newman ridicules the Bible narrative of Shishak's expedition against Rehoboam as a mere fictitious embellishment of an otherwise tame narrative;[134] but Egyptologists, like Stuart, Poole, and Brugsch, have examined the inscription of Shishak, at Karnak, and allege that it fully corroborates the Scripture history.[135] Some of the most obscure portions of the Bible, which have long been stumbling-blocks to commentators and historians, are now thus illuminated by the light of modern discoveries of monuments and inscriptions found in the ruins of the ancient cities of Persia and Assyria, upon which they in turn cast such light as to enable the discoveries of Layard and Rawlinson to assume an intelligible coherency. The tenth and eleventh chapters of Genesis, written a thousand years before Herodotus or Manetho, and which Rationalistic commentators were so long "unable to verify by their own consciousness," and which were therefore consigned to the realm of mythology, are now acknowledged by the first scholars and discoverers to stand at the head of the page of reliable history, and to form the basis of all scientific ethnography. The diversity of languages among mankind seems not to have attracted the attention of the Greek philosophers. When modern inquirers began to investigate the matter, they were well-nigh confounded by the multitude of dialects and languages. The labor of three generations of scholars has been expended upon philology, the most ancient monument of mankind. And the result is that all the various languages of earth have at length been classified under three tongues--the Shemitic, the Aryan, and the Turanian. But this most recent discovery of comparative philology was narrated by Moses thirty centuries ago, with the historical account of the origin of the division of the primeval family into three separate colonies, colonizing the earth after their families and after their tongues.--Genesis x. 32. The discovery of this coincidence fills Bunsen with astonishment. "Comparative philology," he says, "would have been compelled to set forth as a postulate the supposition of some such division of languages in Asia, especially on the ground of the relation of the Egyptian language to the Shemitic, even if the Bible had not assured us of the truth of this great historical event. It is truly wonderful; it is a matter of astonishment; it is more than a mere astounding fact that something so purely historical, and yet divinely fixed--something so conformable to reason, and yet not to be conceived of as a mere natural development--is here related to us out of the oldest primeval period, and which now for the first time, through the new science of philology, has become capable of being historically and philosophically explained." The brief, yet definite, assertions of the Hamitic origin of the old empire of Babylon, and of an Asiatic Cush or Ethiopia, which have been so repeatedly charged against the Bible as blunders, even by some profound scholars, have been vindicated by the recent discoveries in the mounds of Chaldea Proper of multitudes of inscriptions in a language which Sir H. Rawlinson affirms "is decidedly Cushite or Ethiopian," and the modern languages to which it makes the nearest approaches are those of Southern Arabia and Abyssinia. The old traditions have then been confirmed by comparative philology, and both are side lights to Scripture. * * * "The primitive race which bore sway in Chaldea Proper is demonstrated to have belonged to this Ethnic type."[136] "The conquest of Palestine is recorded on the annals of Sennacherib, and the cylinder of Tiglath-Pileser describes his invasion of Palestine. The names of Jehu, of Amaziah, of Hezekiah, of Omri, Ahaz, and Uzziah have been made out. _The very clay which sealed the treaty between the kings of Judah and Assyria, with the impresses of their joint seals upon it, is preserved in the Nineveh gallery._ The library of Assurbanipal, in twenty thousand fragments, contains among other scientific treatises, such as astronomical notices, grammatical essays, tables of verbs, genealogies, etc., an historico-geographical account of Babylonia and the surrounding countries. As far as these fragments have been translated, the district and tribal names given in the Bible correspond very closely with them."[137] But this is not the only illustration and confirmation which these old Assyrian monuments offer to the Sacred Writings. From the first invasion of the Assyrians, under Tiglath-Pileser, to the restoration of Israel from Babylon, and the rebuilding of the temple, under Darius, the Bible history is full of references to the Assyrian, Babylonian, and Persian monarchies, and their affairs with Israel and Judah. And the inscribed tablets, cylinders, and temple tablets, and statues, are full of references which directly or indirectly elucidate and corroborate the Bible history, attesting to skeptics the truthfulness of its wonderful narrative; the very stones of Nineveh, and the ruined palaces of Babylon and Assyria, crying out in vindication of the veracity of the Bible. Already so much has been discovered as to fill several volumes, to which we must refer the reader for details.[138] One of the alleged historical errors greatly insisted on by Rationalistic commentators was the statement by Daniel, that Belshazzar was King of Babylon when it was taken by the Medo-Persians, and that he was slain at the storming of the city. Herodotus and Berosus had stated that Nabonnidus was king, and that he was not in the city then, but was afterward taken prisoner and treated generously by Cyrus. These accounts seemed contradictory; and as Herodotus and Berosus were generally esteemed respectable historians, the Rationalists ridicule Daniel as an erroneous writer of history. But one of Sir H. Rawlinson's discoveries has vindicated the prophet, and also explained how the historians were truthful too. W. Taylor, one of Rawlinson's assistants, discovered an inscribed cylinder in Ur of the Chaldees containing an account of the reign of this very Nabonnidus, which Sir Henry describes in a letter to the _Athenæum_, (1854, page 341): "The most important facts, however, which they disclose are that the eldest son of Nabonnidus was named Bel-shar-ezar, and that he was admitted by his father to a share in the government." This name is undoubtedly the Belshazzar of Daniel, and thus furnishes a key to the explanation of that great historical problem which has hitherto defied solution. We can now understand how Belshazzar, as _joint-king_ with his father, may have been Governor of Babylon when the city was attacked by the combined forces of the Medes and Persians, and may have perished in the assault which followed; while Nabonnidus, leading a force to the relief of the place, was defeated, and was obliged to take refuge in Borsippa, capitulating after a short resistance, and being subsequently assigned, according to Berosus, to an honorable retirement in Carmania. A minute coincidence also is thus brought to light, showing the accuracy of the inspired historian in one of the details of his narrative. Belshazzar elevates him to the position of Grand Vizier, or Prime Minister, which, under ordinary circumstances, would be the _second_ place of dignity in the empire. But Daniel represents the king as raising him to the _third_ place, which we now see to be strictly correct, since Belshazzar himself was the second in rank. Thus the weapons discharged against the Bible ever recoil upon the heads of its assailants. Not only among the monuments of the great historic nations do we now discover corroborations of Scripture, the records and monuments of even obscure nations are most strangely turning up and being discovered, after lying unnoticed for centuries, as if God had reserved their testimony for the time when it would be needed and valued. The Bible does not refer to the history of the surrounding nations, save in connection with their relations to Israel; but it is surprising to see how many of these references are corroborated by recent discoveries. The Bible, for instance, describes[139] Omri as establishing a kingdom with his capital at Samaria, and he and his son, Ahab, making war on Mesha, King of Moab, conquering him and making him pay an annual tribute of one hundred thousand lambs and one hundred thousand rams, with the wool. But it came to pass that when Ahab was dead that the King of Moab rebelled against the King of Israel. Now amid the perpetual wars of the petty kingdoms of Asia, and after the utter extirpation of the Moabitish nation, the chances were millions to one against our recovering any historical monuments whatever of that people; and almost infinite against recovering any which should coincide with the half dozen allusions to them in the Bible. But Mr. Klein discovered in the ruins of Dibon, one of the ancient cities of Moab, and Capt. Warren recovered, the fragments of the now famous Moabite Stone, on which, in the old Samaritan characters, we read: "I, Mesha, son of Jobin, King of Moab. My father reigned over Moab thirty years, and I reigned after my father. I erected this altar unto Chemosh, who granted me victory over mine enemies, the people of Omri, King of Israel, who, together with his son, Ahab, oppressed Moab a long time--even forty years,"[140] etc. But space forbids even the enumeration of the corroborations of Bible history from the days of Abraham to the time of the first census of the Roman Empire, when Cyrenius was Governor of Syria the second time. In every instance where its monuments have spoken of biblical affairs they have confirmed the accuracy of the Bible history. The history of Great Britain, or of the United States, is not more authentic than, and not so accurate as, the long line of history recorded in the Bible. No important error has been proven in any of its historical statements of the world's history for forty centuries. This accuracy contrasted with the acknowledged errors of the best historians, is proof to every candid mind of divine direction and help to the sacred writers. Sweeping away, then, these cobwebs, we open the volume and form our opinion of its genuineness and authenticity from its own internal evidences--its nature and contents--and from the way in which it was used by the Hebrew nation. It is important at the outset to know how long these documents have undoubtedly existed. No one denies that they were in existence eighteen hundred years ago. Indeed, the first literary attack on them which has been recorded was made about that time; and Josephus' defense of the Scriptures against Apion still exists. The very same writings which the Protestant churches now acknowledge as canonical, and none other, were then acknowledged to be of divine authority by the Jews. It is true they bound their Bibles differently from ours, but the contents were the very same. They made up their parchments of the thirty-nine books in twenty-two rolls or volumes, one for every letter of their alphabet; putting Judges and Ruth, the two books of Samuel, the two books of Kings, the two books of Chronicles, Ezra and Nehemiah, Jeremiah's Prophecy and Lamentations, and the twelve minor prophets, in one volume respectively. They also distinguished the five books of Moses as, _The Law_; the Psalms, Proverbs, Ecclesiastes, and Song of Solomon as, _The Psalms_; and all the remainder as, _The Prophets_.[141] Moreover, it is well known that two hundred and eighty-two years before the Christian era, these writings were translated into Greek and widely circulated in all parts of the world. They were, in fact, not only popular, but received as of divine authority by the Jews at that time, read in their synagogues in public worship, and regarded with sacred reverence. How did they come to receive them in this manner? These writings were not only acknowledged by the Jews; their bitterest enemies--the Samaritans--owned the divine authority of the five books of Moses, and preserve an ancient copy of them, differing in no essential particular from the Hebrew version, to this day. The Samaritans always bore to the Hebrews such a relation as Mohammedans do to Christians, and the Hebrews returned the grudge with interest: "For the Jews have no dealings with the Samaritans." These heathen Babylonians, four centuries or more before the Christian era, were somehow induced to receive the Pentateuch as of divine authority, and to frame some sort of religion upon it. Their enmity to the Jews is conclusive proof that, since that time, neither Jews nor Samaritans have altered the text; else the manuscripts would show the discrepancy. These books are not such as any person would forge to gain popularity, or to make money by. There is nothing in them to bribe the good opinion of influential people, or catch the favor of the multitude. On the contrary, their stern severity, and unsparing denunciation of popular vice and profitable sin must have secured their rejection by the Jewish people, had they not been constrained by undeniable evidence to acknowledge their divine authority. They set out with the assertion of the divine authority of the law of Moses, and everywhere sharply reprove princes, priests, and people for breaking it. The prophets, so far from seeking popularity, are foolhardy enough to denounce the bonnets, hoops, and flounces of the ladies, and to cry, Woe! against the regular business of the most respectable note-shavers,[142] to croak against the march of intellect, and shake public confidence in the prosperity of their great country,[143] to ally themselves with fanatic abolitionists, and introduce agitating political questions into the pulpit; crying, _Woe to him that useth his neighbor's service without wages, and giveth him not for his work._[144] To crown all, they organized abolition clubs to procure immediate emancipation, and published incendiary proclamations in the cities of the slaveholders,[145] and, strange to say, they were allowed to escape with their lives; and their writings were held sacred by the children of those very men and women they so unsparingly denounced; a conclusive proof that the calamities they predicted had compelled them to acknowledge these prophets as the heralds of God. The proof must have been conclusive, indeed, which compelled the Jews to acknowledge the writings of the prophets as sacred. Another very striking feature of these writings is, their mutual connection with each other. They were written at various intervals, during a period of a thousand years' duration, by shepherds and kings, by prophets and priests, by governors of States and gatherers of sycamore fruit; in deserts and in palaces, in camps and in cities, in Egypt and Syria, in Arabia and Babylon; under the iron heel of despotic oppression, and amid the liberty of the most democratic republic the world ever saw; yet, circumstances, and lapse of time, they ever hold to one great theme, always assert the same great principles, and perpetually claim connection with the writers who have preceded them. There is nothing like this in the histories of other nations. Two centuries will work such changes of opinion, that you can not find nowadays any historian who approves the sentiments of Pepys or Clarendon, whatever use he may make of their facts. But the historians of the Bible not only refer to their predecessors' writings, but refer to them as of acknowledged divine authority. Thus the very latest of these books gives the weight of its testimony to the first--"_And they set the priests in their divisions, and the Levites in their courses for the service of God, which is at Jerusalem, as it is written in the book of Moses._"[146] And Daniel spake of the books of Moses as well known when he says, "_Therefore the curse is poured upon us, and the oath that is written in the law of Moses the servant of God._"[147] The shortest book in the Old Testament--the prophecy of Obadiah, consisting only of twenty sentences--contains twenty-five allusions to the preceding histories and laws. The last of the prophets shuts up the volume with a command to "_Remember the law of Moses._" In fact, just as the epistles prove the existence and acknowledged authority of the gospels; so do the prophets prove the existence and acknowledged authority of the law of Moses. They were acknowledged not merely by one generation of the Jewish people, but by the nation during the whole period of its national existence; and they are of such a character, that they must then, and now, be taken as one whole--all accepted, or all rejected together. The reader of the Old Testament will speedily find that these writings are not merely a connected history of the nation, of great general interest, like Bancroft's or Macaulay's, but of no such special interest to any individual as to force him, by a sense of self-interest, or the danger of loss of liberty or property, to correct their errors. On the contrary, every farmer in Palestine was deeply concerned in the truth and accuracy of the Bible; for it contained not only the general boundaries of the country, and of the particular tribes, like the survey of the Maine boundary, or of Mason and Dixon's line, but it delineated particular estates, also, and was, in fact, the report of the Surveyor-General, deposited in the county court for reference, in case of any litigation about sale or inheritance of property.[148] The genealogies of the tribes and families were also preserved in these writings; and on the authenticity and correctness of these records, the inheritance of every farm in the land depended; for as no lease ran more than fifty years, every farm returned to the heirs of the original settler at the year of jubilee.[149] Thus every Jewish farmer had a direct interest in these sacred records; and it would be just as hard to forge records for the county courts of Ohio, and pass them off upon the citizens as genuine, and plead them in the courts as valid, as to impose at first, or falsify afterward, the records of the commonwealth of Israel. This will appear more clearly when we consider that they contained also the laws of the land--the Constitution of the United States of Israel, with the statutes at large--according to which every house, and farm, and garden in the whole country was possessed, every court of justice was guided,[150] every election was held, from the election of a petty constable, to that of Governor of the State,[151] and the militia enrolled, mustered, officered, and called out to the field of battle.[152] These laws prescribed the way in which every house must be built, regulated the weaver in weaving his cloth, and the tailor in making it, and the cooking of every breakfast, dinner and supper eaten by an Israelite over the world, from that day to this.[153] Now, let any one who thinks it would be an easy matter to forge such a series of documents, and get people to receive and obey them, try his hand in making a volume of Acts of Assembly, and passing it off upon the people of Ohio for genuine. Let him bring an action into one of the courts, and persuade the judges to give a decision in his favor, upon the strength of his forged or falsified statutes, and then he may hope to convince us that the laws of Moses are simply a collection of religious tracts, which came to be held sacred through lapse of time, nobody knows how or why. Nor were these laws, and the usages thus established, common, and such as the people would be ready easily to adopt. On the contrary, Moses repeatedly asserts, and all ancient history shows, that they were quite peculiar to the Hebrew people then; and they are to this day confined to the republics which, like our own, have drawn their ideas from the Bible. It is enough to name the common law and trial by jury; the armed nation; the right of free public assembly, free speech, free passport, and free trade; the election of civil, judicial, and military officers by universal suffrage; the division of the land in fee-simple among the whole people; the rights of women to hold real estate in their own right, to speak in public assemblies, and to prophetic functions; and the support of religion by the voluntary offerings of the people. Our own republic resembles Israel as a daughter her mother. The land of liberty was the Bible country. The first republic which the world ever saw was designed by Almighty God, and revealed to the world in the Bible, and by the example of the United States of Israel. From that pattern our forefathers copied all the grand features of our glorious republic--the equitable distribution of the land, in fee-simple, among the people; securing them, by the jubilee, against the introduction of feudal tenure, and landlordism; the abolition of a standing army, and the defense of the country by the militia; the election of all officers, civil and military, from the town constable, and the justice of the peace, up to the president of the republic, the Lord Jehovah himself, by universal suffrage--and the Federal Union of the twelve tribes into one nation, with township, county, and state governments, with a common law, common schools, and the equality of all citizens before the law; the right of naturalization; sanitary and social institutions, such as modern philanthropists are only beginning to dream of, for the elevation of the people; and all this avowedly held in trust for all mankind, as a fountain of blessings for all the families of the earth. No such ideas of liberty, equality, and fraternity, ever existed among the wisest heathen nations--the Egyptians, Persians, Greeks, or Romans. On the face of the whole earth there never was, and there is not to-day, a free republic outside of the light and liberty of the Bible. The so-called republics of Athens and Rome were hideous aristocracies, and tyrannies. From the Bible the men of the Continental Congress learned the grand truth, which they emblazoned on the forefront of their immortal Declaration of Independence, "That all men are endowed by their Creator with certain inalienable rights to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness;" thus planting the rights of man upon the only immovable basis--the throne of the eternal God. But there were other features of the Mosaic legislation so far in advance of the ideas of our modern Materialism as not to have been even yet suggested in our social congresses, nor even dreamt of by our most advanced Christian philanthropists, in their endeavors after the elevation of the masses. Moses' idea was the prevention of pauperism, and of the conflict between labor and capital, and of the gambling speculating fever, and the formation of an independent, intelligent, joyous, religious, healthy, and thrifty people, well-bred, well-fed, well-lodged, able to fight their foes on the battle-field, to reap their ridge on the harvest-field, to enjoy the blessings of healthy families, and to rejoice before the Lord. A volume would be needed to develop the social bearings of the laws of the Hebrews. We can only suggest for consideration the laws regarding inalienability of the homestead, and the bankrupt law; the laws of marriage and inheritance; the laws of servitude and wages; the sanitary laws regarding building, clothing, bathing, eating, and contagion; the protection of the rights of animals; the dispersion of the educated class; and the three great national festivals, during which the whole people were released from the labors of the field, and of the kitchen, and enjoyed during the eight summer days of each picnic such an excitement of social enjoyment, religious fervor, and political patriotism, as modern Christendom anticipates in the millennium, but which neither Church nor State has, as yet, systematically attempted to nurture. That the Hebrews did not obey the law, and so did not enjoy the happiness obedience would have secured, is only what God foresaw, and foretold repeatedly, with solemn warning of the disastrous degradation to which disobedience to God's laws must ever reduce man. Nevertheless, even their very imperfect conformity to these institutions gave them such superiority of blood and breeding to their ungodly neighbors, that they have survived the most powerful nations, and, in spite of dispersion, exile, disfranchisement, and persecution, they exist as a distinct people, superior intellectually, commercially, and morally to all the heathen nations at this day. How much higher had been their position had they fully obeyed the law. Our argument is, that this law of liberty, equality, fraternity, and religion, was worthy of our Father in heaven, and a seed of blessing to all the families of the earth. To a Jew living before the coming of Christ, the unanimous testimony of his nation, confirmed by all the commemorative observances of the sacrifices, the passover, the Sabbath, and the jubilee, by the reading of the law and the prophets, and the singing of the historical psalms in the temple and the synagogues, by the execution of the laws of Moses in the courts, and by the very existence of his nation as a distinct people, separate from all the other nations--could leave no doubt that laws so peculiar and beneficent must have been enacted by a wisdom superior to that of man, and their observance imposed by divine authority; nor that the miracles by which these laws were authenticated, and the national existence of the people of Israel was secured, were genuine, and divine. The chain of historical and internal evidence is too strong to be broken, while the Jewish nation exists. But yet this historical and internal evidence of the authority of the Old Testament is but the smallest part of that which we possess, who have the testimony of Christ on this subject. For this testimony removes the question from the mists of antiquity, and even from the debatable ground of historic certainty, and resolves the whole process of searching for, and comparing and examining a host of second-hand witnesses, into the easy and certain one of hearing the Author himself say, whether he acknowledges this Book to be his or not. Christians receive the Old Testament as the Word of God, because Jesus says so. Now, reader, it is of the utmost importance that you should stop just here, and give a plain, confident answer to these questions: Dost thou believe upon the Son of God? Is Jesus the Messiah of whom Moses in the law, and the prophets, did write? Are you perfectly satisfied of the truth of the New Testament, and willing to venture your eternal salvation upon the words of Christ contained in it? For, if not, of what use is it for you to trouble yourself about the Old Testament? You might as well waste your time in examining the genuineness of the bills of a broken bank; they may be genuine or they may be forgeries; but who cares? They will never be paid. If the first promises of the bank of heaven, to send the Messiah eighteen hundred years ago, have been fulfilled, its other paper may be also valuable; if not, it must be equally worthless. If the New Testament be not of divine authority, you may place the prophets on the same shelf with the Poems of Ossian; and then follows the serious consequence, that there is not a grain of hope left for you or for any man on earth. If Jesus be indeed an Almighty Savior, and if he has indeed risen from the dead, then, through the power of his mighty love, your filthy soul may be washed from its sins, and your mortal body may be raised from the rottenness of the grave. But if Christ be not risen, you are yet in your sins. You have no notion that any of the gods of the heathen, or the precepts of the Koran, can purify your heart. You know well that Infidelity never sanctified any of your comrades. Conscience tells you that you are not any better now than you were a year ago, but worse. You are yet in your sins; and in them you must live and die! Aye, while your immortal soul lives, while the laws of human nature continue, you must carry those brands of infamy on your character, and daily progress from bad to worse; sinking deeper and deeper in the contempt of all intelligent beings; and, were there no other avenger, in the remorse and despair of your own mind, you must experience the horrors of perdition. Jesus, able to save to the uttermost, all that come unto God by him, is your only hope. There is none other name given under heaven among men whereby we must be saved. If his gospel be true, you may be saved; if it is false, you must be damned. If you have the shadow of a doubt of the truth of the New Testament, go over the subject again; re-read the former chapters of this book; pray to God for light and truth; above all, read the Book again and again; and if, in your case, as in that of one of the most famous teachers of German Neology--De Wette--the careful study of the New Testament impels you to rush through all the mists of doubt to the higher standpoint of a lofty faith, and the sunshine of real religion; and if with him you can now say, "Only this one thing I know, that in no other name is there salvation than in the name of Jesus Christ the crucified, and that for humanity there is nothing higher than the incarnation of Deity set before us in him, and the kingdom of God established by him,"[154] you may then go on with your inquiry into the divine authority of the Old Testament. With the Master himself before you, the Author, the Inspirer, by whom, and for whom, the prophets spake, and to whom all the Scriptures point, you will not think of wasting time in examining second-hand evidence; but go direct to Jesus himself. His testimony will not be merely so much additional testimony--another candle added to the chandelier by whose light you have perused the evidences of the Scriptures; it will shine out on your soul as the light of the Sun of Righteousness with healing on his wings. Every word from his lips will awaken in your heart the voice from heaven, "_This is my beloved Son. Hear him._" What saith Christ, then, respecting the Old Testament? The moment you open the New Testament to make this inquiry, you are met by a reference to the Old. "_The book of the generation of Jesus Christ, the Son of David, the Son of Abraham_," is its formal title; and the most cursory perusal tells you that you have taken up, not a separate and independent work, which you can profitably peruse and understand without much reference to some foregoing volumes--as one might read Abbott's Life of Napoleon without needing at the same time to study the History of the Crusades--but that you have taken up a continuation of some former work--the last volume in fact of the Old Testament--and that you can not understand even the first chapter without a careful reading of the foregoing volumes. Before you have finished the first chapter you meet with the most unequivocal assertion of the harmony of the gospels and the prophecies, and of the divine authority of both--"_Now all this was done that it might be fulfilled which was spoken of the Lord by the prophet_," etc. The whole tenor of the New Testament corresponds to this beginning, teaching that the birth, doctrine, miracles, life, death, resurrection, ascension, and second coming of the Lord, are the fulfillments of the Old Testament promises and prophecies; of which no less than a hundred and thirty-nine are expressly quoted, beginning with Moses and ending with Malachi. We can not explain this by saying, with the mythical school of interpreters, that this was merely the opinion of the writers of the gospels and of the Jews of their age; whose longings for the Messiah led them to imagine some curious coincidences between the events of Christ's life and the utterances of these ancient oracles to be ready fulfillments; and that Christ did not deem it needful in all cases to undeceive them. For to suppose that Christ--the Truth--would sanction or connive at any such sacrilegious deception, is at once to deprive him, not only of his divine character, but of all claim to common honesty. So far from the Jews longing for any such events as those which fulfilled the prophecies, they despised the Messiah in whom they were fulfilled, and refused to believe in him; and his disciples were as far from the gospel ideal of the Messiah, when Jesus needed to reproach them with, "_O fools, and slow of heart, to believe all that the prophets have spoken._"[155] It was not the Jews, nor yet the disciples, but the Lord himself who perpetually insisted on the divine authority of the Old Testament as the _Word_ of his Father, and the sufficient attestation of his own divine character, after this manner: "_Ye have not his word abiding in you; for whom he hath sent, him ye believe not. Search the Scriptures; for in them ye think ye have eternal life: and they are they which testify of me. * * * Had ye believed Moses, ye would have believed me: for he wrote of me. But if ye believe not his writings, how shall ye believe my words?_"[156] His first recorded sermon contains a remarkable and solemn attestation to the divine authority of the Old Testament, and of his own relation to it as its substance and supporter, "_Think not that I am come to destroy the law, and the prophets: I am not come to destroy, but to fulfill. For verily I say unto you, Till heaven and earth pass, one jot or one tittle shall in no wise pass from the law, till all be fulfilled._"[157] The whole of this discourse is an exposition of the true principles of the Old Testament, stripping off the rubbish by which tradition had made void the law of God, and enforcing its precepts by the sanction of his divine authority. And in one of his last discourses after his resurrection: "_Beginning at Moses, and the prophets, he expounded unto them in all the Scriptures the things concerning himself. * * * And he said unto them, These are the words which I spake unto you, while I was yet with you, that all things must be fulfilled which were written in the law of Moses, and in the prophets, and in the psalms, concerning me. Then opened he their understanding, that they might understand the Scriptures._"[158] In this distinct enumeration of the whole of the Scriptures of the Old Testament; in the assertion that they all treated of him, and that their principal predictions were fulfilled in him; and in his bestowal of divine illumination to enable them to understand these divine oracles--we have such an indorsement of their character by the Truth himself, as must command the faith and obedience of every believer in him. Had no objections been raised against particular doctrines or features of the Old Testament, we should stop here; perfectly satisfied with the attestations to the truth of its history, given by the continual references, and to the authority of its precepts, by the solemn formal declarations of the Son of God. But some popular objections to its completeness and perfection demand a brief notice. 1. The general character of the Old Testament being then ascertained beyond doubt, our first inquiry must be as to the integrity and completeness of the collection. For it is manifest that their divine authority being admitted, any attempt to add to them any human writings, or to take away those which were from God, would be a crime so serious in its consequences, that it could not escape the notice of him who severely rebuked even the verbal traditions by which the Jews made void the law of God. Now we are told by some that a great many inspired books have been lost; and they enumerate the prophecy of Enoch; the book of the Wars of the Lord; the book of Joshua; the book of Iddo the seer; the book of Nathan the prophet; the acts of Rehoboam; the book of Jehu, the son of Hanani; and the five books of Solomon, on trees, beasts, fowls, serpents, and fishes; which are alluded to in the Bible. If the case were so, it is difficult to see what objection could be raised against the divine authority of the books we have, because of the divine authority of those we have not; for it is not supposed that one divinely inspired book would contradict another. Nor yet can we see how the loss of these books should disprove their inspiration, much less the inspiration of those which remain, any more than the want of a record of the multitude of words and works of Jesus himself which were never committed to writing,[159] should be an argument against the divine authority of the Sermon on the Mount. It will hardly be asserted that God is bound to reveal to us everything that the human race ever did, and to preserve such records through all time, or lose his right to demand our obedience to a plain revelation of his will; or that we do well to neglect the salvation of our own souls until we obtain an infallible knowledge of the acts of Rehoboam. But there is not the shadow of a proof that any of these were inspired books, or that some of them were books at all. The Bible nowhere says that Enoch wrote his prophecy, or that Solomon read his discourses on natural history; nor of what religious interest they would have been to us any more than the hard questions of the Queen of Sheba, and his answers to them. Though the loss of these ancient chronicles may be regretted by the antiquarian, the Christian feels not at all concerned about it; knowing as he does, on the testimony of Christ, that the Holy Scriptures, as he and his apostles delivered them to us, contain all that we need to know in order to repent of our sins, lead holy lives, and go to heaven; and that we have the very same Bible of which Jesus said: "_They have Moses and the prophets; let them hear them. * * * If they hear not Moses and the prophets, neither will they be persuaded though one rose from the dead._"[160] 2. Another objection is, that the religion of the Old Testament was essentially different from that of the New. It is at once acknowledged, that the light which Christ shed on our relations to God, and to our brethren of mankind, is so much clearer than that of the Old Testament that we see our duties more plainly, and are more inexcusable for neglecting them, than those who had not the benefit of Christ's teaching. And no objection can be raised against God for not sending his Son sooner, or for not giving more light to the world before his coming, unless it can be shown that he is debtor to mankind, and that they were making a good use of the light he gave them. So that the question is not, Did God give as full and expanded instructions to the Church in her infancy as he has given in her maturity? but, Did he give instructions of a different character? It is not, Did Christ reveal more than Moses? but, Did Christ contradict Moses? And here, at the very outset, we are met by Christ's own solemn formal disclaimer of any such intention: "_Think not that I am come to destroy the law and the prophets. I am not come to destroy, but to fulfill._" And as to the actual working of the Christian religion, when Paul is asked, "_Is the law then against the promises of God?_"[161] he indignantly replies, "_God forbid!_" But it is urged, "Judaism is not Christianity. You have changed the Sabbath, abolished the sacrifices, trampled upon the rules of living, eating, and visiting only with the peculiar people, you neglect the passover, and drop circumcision, the seal of the covenant, all on the authority of Christ. Do you mean to say that these are not essential elements of the Old Testament religion?" Undoubtedly. Outward ceremonies of any kind never were essential parts of religion. "_I will have mercy and not sacrifice_," is an Old Testament proverb, which clearly tells us that outward ceremonies are merely means toward the great end of all religion. "_The law_," says the Holy Ghost, by the pen of Paul, "_was our schoolmaster to bring us to Christ_." The bread of heavenly truth is served out to God's children now on ten thousand wooden tables, instead of one brazen altar; but it is made of the same corn of heaven, it is dispensed by the same hand of love, to a larger family, it is true, but received and eaten in the exercise of the very same religious feelings, by any hearer of the gospel in New York, as by Abraham on Moriah. By faith in Christ the sinner now is justified, "_Even as Abraham believed God, and it was imputed to him for righteousness._" So says one who knew both law and gospel well. "_Do we then make void the law through faith? God forbid! Yea, we establish the law!_" The Epistles to the Romans and to the Hebrews are just demonstrations of this truth, that the law was the blossom, the gospel the fruit. But it is alleged that the religion of the Old Testament could not but be defective, as it wanted the doctrines of immortality and the resurrection; of which, it is alleged, the Old Testament saints were ignorant. It were easy to prove, from their own words and conduct, that Job, Abraham, David, and Daniel, were not ignorant of these great doctrines.[162] But the manner in which our Lord proves the truth of the resurrection, by a reference to it as undeniably taught in the Old Testament, must ever silence this objection. "_But as touching the resurrection of the dead, have ye not read that which was spoken unto you by God, saying, I am the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob? God is not the God of the dead, but of the living._"[163] 3. But it is objected the Hebrew Jehovah tolerated and approved polygamy, slavery, and divorce; and, in general, a low code of morals among the Hebrews. But we demand to know what standard of morals our objectors adopt? That of the ancient oriental world in which Israel lived? Then the laws of Jehovah were very far in advance of that age. The slave had his blessed Sabbath rest secured to him; which is more than modern civilization can secure for her railway slaves; his master was forbidden to treat him cruelly; and the maid-servant's honor was protected by the best means then known; while the Sacred Writings held up for example the primitive example of marriage, interposed the formality of a legal document before divorce, and elevated the family far above the degraded state of the heathen around them. But the objector falls back on the morals of Christendom, the civilization of the nineteenth century, and judges the laws of Moses by that standard. Very well. This is simply to say that our ideas have been raised to the standard of Christianity; and then the objection is that the laws of Moses are not so spiritual and elevated as the precepts of Christ. Our Lord himself asserts the same thing. He says Moses tolerated divorce because of the hardness of the people's hearts; but from the beginning it was not so. And Paul (Hebrews viii. 6, 7) alleges the imperfection of Moses' law as a good reason for the introduction of a better covenant. The Bible itself then recognizes an advance from good to better, the path of the just shining more and more unto the perfect day. But then it is asked, Is God the Author of an imperfect law? Could God give a defective code of morals? The question entirely misses the design of God's revelation as a process of educating his children. Suppose we ask, Could God speak Hebrew--a language so defective in philosophical terms? God must condescend to the mental, and even, in some degree, to the moral level of mankind if he is to reach us at all. All education must begin low, and rise from step to step. The A, B, C of morals must be first learned. The whole analogy of providence shows this to be God's method of procedure. The kingdom of God is like the growing seed; first the blade, then the ear, then the full corn in the ear. Gradual, and even slow, progress is the law of nature. Our modern civilization, which is so proudly invoked, is very far indeed from any such perfection as might enable us to look down upon Moses' legislation with contempt. We have only to name our standing armies and conscriptions; our national promises to pay debts, which no one ever expects to pay; our laws regarding drunkenness, and our revenues derived from the licenses for the sale of liquors; the utter failure of our attempts to put down betting, gambling, and stock and gold speculations, prostitution, bribery, frauds, and plundering of the public funds; to convince ourselves that there are many things law can not do, even in this nineteenth century of civilization. Our little progress, such as it is, has not been made all at once, or by one great advance. God gives mankind blessings by degrees. He gave the mariner's compass to the fourteenth century, the printing press and America to the fifteenth, the Bible in the vulgar tongue to the sixteenth, parliamentary government to the seventeenth, the steam engine to the eighteenth, railroads and the telegraph to the nineteenth. One might as well cavil at his providence for not giving the Hebrews sewing machines, Hoe's printing presses, and daily newspapers, when they entered into Canaan, as for delaying to give them the elements of Christian civil law, and social life, before they were able to value and to use them. As it was, Moses' law was so far in advance of their own ideas of propriety, and so far in advance of those of all the people around them, that they were continually falling back from it, and rebelling against it, and subjecting themselves to the discipline which God had threatened for disobedience. Thus they were kept ever looking upward to a higher model. Their transgressions must be confessed as sins, and atoned for by bloody sacrifices, declaring the transgressor worthy of death. Their consciences were educated to the idea of holiness, an idea utterly wanting among the heathen; and the law became a powerful motive power, urging them to higher and holier lives, and preparing them to receive the higher and holier example and precepts of Christ. The imperfection, then, of the law of Moses, so far from being an evidence of the human origin of the Bible, is a mark of the infinite wisdom of the great Lawgiver in adapting his legislation to the condition of his people; and while tolerating for the time then present an imperfect state of society, just as at this time he tolerates a Christendom far below the gospel standard, yet implanting in the minds of his people principles of righteousness and love which were certain eventually to raise them to the high level of the kingdom of God. This, then, is simply an instance of the general law of divine development. 4. Again, however, it is contended, "that the morality of the Old Testament was narrow and bigoted; requiring, indeed, the observance of charity to the covenant people, but allowing Israel to hate all others as enemies, and as well expressed in the text, _Thou shalt love thy neighbor and hate thine enemy._"[164] But let it be noticed, that this is no text of Scripture, nor does our Lord so quote it. He does not say it is so written, but, _ye have heard it said by them of old time_. The first part is God's truth; the second is the devil's addition to it, which Christ clears away and denounces. It were easy to quote multitudes of passages from the Old Testament, commanding Israel to show kindness to the stranger, and a whole host of promises, that in them all the families of the earth should be blessed; any one of which would sufficiently refute the foolish notion, that the morality of the Old Testament was geographical, and its charity merely national. But the simple fact, that the most sublime sanction of world-wide benevolence which ever fell even from the lips of Christ himself, was uttered by him as the sum and substance of the teachings of the Old Testament, conclusively confutes this dogma. The Golden Rule was no new discovery, unless its Author was mistaken, for he says: "_Therefore all things whatsoever ye would that men should do to you, do ye even so to them_: FOR THIS IS THE LAW AND THE PROPHETS."[165] He declares the very basis and foundation of the whole Old Testament religion to be those eternal principles of godliness and charity, which he quotes in the very words of the law: "_Then one of them, which was a lawyer, asked him a question, tempting him, and saying, Master, which is the great commandment in the law? Jesus said unto him, Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy mind. This is the first and great commandment. And the second is like unto it, Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself. On these two commandments hang all the law and the prophets._"[166] The law and the prophets, then, taught genuine world-wide benevolence, Christ being witness; and the moral law of the Old Testament is the moral law of the New Testament, if we may believe the Lawgiver. 5. Still, it is alleged, "it can not be denied that the writers of the Old Testament breathed a spirit of vindictiveness, and imprecated curses on their enemies, utterly at variance with the precepts of the gospel, which command us to bless and curse not; and even in their solemn devotions uttered sentiments unfit for the mouth of any Christian; nor that their views of the character of God were stern and gloomy, and that they represented the Hebrew Jehovah as an unforgiving and vengeful being, utterly different from the kind and loving Father whom Christ delighted to reveal." This, if the truth were told, is the grand objection to the Old Testament. The holy and righteous sin-hating God, presented in its history, is the object of dislike. The God who drowned the old world, destroyed Sodom and Gomorrah by fire from heaven, commanded the extermination of the lewd and bloody Canaanites, thundered his curses against sinners of every land and every age, saying, "_Cursed be he that confirmeth not all the words of this law to do them_," requiring all the people to say _Amen_,[167] is not the God whom Universalists can find in their hearts to adore. A mild, easy, good-natured being, who would allow men to live and die in sin without any punishment, would suit them better. They try to think that he is altogether such an one as themselves, and an approver of their sin. But it is worth while to inquire whether the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ be in this respect anything different from the Hebrew Jehovah, or whether the gospel has in the least degree lessened his displeasure against iniquity. Paul thought not that he was a different person, when he said: "_We know him who hath said, Vengeance belongeth unto me, I will recompense, saith the Lord._"[168] Jesus thought not that he was more lenient to sinners when he cried, "_Woe unto thee, Chorazin! Woe unto thee, Bethsaida! * * * Thou, Capernaum, which art exalted unto heaven, shalt be brought down to hell * * * It shall be more tolerable for the land of Sodom in the day of judgment, than for thee._"[169] It is not in the Old Testament, but in the New, that we are told that Jesus himself shall come "_In flaming fire taking vengeance on them that know not God, and that obey not the gospel of our Lord Jesus Christ; who shall be punished with everlasting destruction from the presence of the Lord, and from the glory of his power._"[170] It is not an old, bigoted Hebrew prophet giving a vision of the Hebrew Jehovah, but the beloved disciple who leaned on Jesus' breast, picturing the Savior himself, who says: "_He was clothed with a vesture dipped in blood; and his name is called the Word of God. And the armies which were in heaven followed him upon white horses, clothed in fine linen, white and clean. And out of his mouth goeth a sharp sword, that with it he should smite the nations; and he shall rule them with a rod of iron; and he treadeth the wine-press of the fierceness and wrath of Almighty God._"[171] Let no man imagine that the New Testament offers impunity to the wicked, or that the Old Testament denies mercy to the repenting sinner, or that Christ exhibited any other God than the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob--the same Hebrew Jehovah who _commands the wicked to forsake his way, and the unrighteous man his thoughts; and to return unto the Lord, and he will have mercy upon him; and to our God, for he will abundantly pardon_.[172] It is exceedingly strange that those who dwell upon the paternal character of God, as a distinctive feature of Christ's personal teaching, should have forgotten that the hymns of the Old Testament church, a thousand years before his coming, were full of this endearing relation; that it was by the first Hebrew prophet that the Hebrew Jehovah declared, "_Israel is my son, even my first-born; and I say unto thee, Let my son go, that he may serve me_;"[173] and that by the last of them he urges Israel to obedience by this tender appeal: "_If I be a father, where is mine honor?_"[174] It was not Christ, but David--one of those gloomy, stern, Hebrew prophets--who penned that noble hymn to our Father in heaven, which Christ illustrated in his Sermon on the Mount: "The Lord is merciful and gracious, Slow to anger and plenteous in mercy. He will not always chide, Neither will he keep his anger forever. He hath not dealt with us after our sins, Nor rewarded us according to our iniquities; For as the heaven is high above the earth, So great is his mercy to them that fear him; As far as the East is from the West, So far hath he removed our transgressions from us. Like as a father pitieth his children, So the Lord pitieth them that fear him."--Psalm ciii. It is utter ignorance of the Old Testament which prompts any one to imagine that it presents any other character of God than "_The Lord, the Lord God, merciful and gracious, long-suffering, and abundant in goodness and truth, keeping mercy for thousands, forgiving iniquity and transgression and sin, and that will by no means clear the guilty._"[175] This is the name which God proclaimed to Moses, and this is the character which he proclaimed in Christ, when he cried on the cross: "_My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me? But thou art holy, O thou that inhabitest the praises of Israel._"[176] Justice and mercy are united in Christ dying for the ungodly. It is untrue to say that the prophets of the Old Testament were actuated by a spirit of malice, or of revenge for personal injuries as such, in praying for, or prophesying destruction on the inveterate enemies of God and his cause.[177] Of all Scripture characters, David has been most defamed for vindictiveness; but surely never was man more free from any such spirit, than the persecuted fugitive, who, with his enemy in his hand in the cave, and his confidential advisers urging him to take his life, cut off his skirt instead of his head; and on another occasion prevented the stroke which would have smitten the sleeping Saul to the earth, and sent back even the spear and the cruse of water, the trophies of his generosity. When cursed himself, and defamed as a vengeful shedder of blood by the Benjamite, he could restrain the fury of his followers, protect the life of the ruffianly traitor, and thus appeal to God as the witness of his innocence: "O Lord, my God! if I have done this, If there be iniquity in my hands, If I have rewarded evil to him that was at peace with me, Yea I have delivered him that without cause was mine enemy."[178] It is true that he does bitterly curse several living persons; of whom it is observable that some had done him no sort of personal injury; as Doeg the Edomite--the Nana Sahib of his day--who anticipated the scenes of Cawnpore, in the streets of Nob, by mercilessly butchering unoffending men, helpless women, and innocent babes. But surely no friend of humanity can imagine that it is improper that the chief magistrate of Israel, anointed for the very purpose of being a terror to evil doers, should express his righteous indignation against such atrocities; nor confound such public execration with the petty gnawings of private revenge. Still less can the fearer of God doubt the propriety of his expressing by the mouth of his prophet, that displeasure he signally displayed by his providence, scathing and blasting the accursed wretch into a terror to all bloody and deceitful men who shall read their own warning in his doom. "God shall likewise destroy thee forever, He shall take thee away and pluck thee from thy dwelling, And root thee out of the land of the living."[179] We have the most solemn assurance, that every one of the historical incidents of Scripture is recorded for our instruction, and that every prophecy gives a lesson to all ages. "_Now all these things happened unto them for ensamples: and they are written for our admonition, upon whom the ends of the world are come._"[180] The imprecations of the Bible against individual sinners are the gibbets on which these malefactors are hung up for warning to all men to flee the crimes that brought them to that fate. It is put beyond the possibility of doubt, by the combined testimony of the Lord and his apostles, that by far the greater number of the curses which David uttered, he spoke in the person of Christ himself, of whom he was a type; and with direct reference to the crimes and punishment of his enemies. Thus the Sixty-ninth Psalm, and the One hundred and ninth, pre-eminently the cursing Psalms, are most explicitly and repeatedly asserted by Christ, by Peter, and by John, to belong to Christ, and to express his very words: "_This scripture must needs have been fulfilled, which the Holy Ghost by the mouth of David spake before concerning Judas, which was guide to them that took Jesus. * * * For it is written in the book of Psalms, Let his habitation be desolate, and let no man dwell therein. And, His bishopric let another take._"[181] If any one feels reluctant to imagine that such cursings should fall from the lips of the merciful Savior, let him remember that the most awful curse which shall ever fall on the ears of terrified men shall be pronounced by Jesus himself, "_Depart, ye cursed, into everlasting fire, prepared for the devil and his angels._"[182] The solemn facts of the Bible will not accommodate themselves to our likes and dislikes. Christ loves righteousness and hates iniquity; in the Bible he takes leave to say so, and he expects his people to share his feelings, and to be willing to express them on fit occasions. Personal revenge, and curses for mere personal injuries, are forbidden in the New Testament as well as in the Old. But it was an apostle of Jesus Christ who cried, "_If any man love not the Lord Jesus Christ, let him be accursed. Though we or an angel from heaven bring any other gospel unto you, let him be accursed._"[183] Nor until we can in some measure feel this holy indignation against sin, and this burning desire to see all tyranny, superstition, bribery, licentiousness, and profanity, crushed and banished from the earth, can we pray in truth "_Thy kingdom come._" Still less can we be prepared for the rejoicings of heaven over the conquest of the enemies of God and man: "_Rejoice over her, thou heaven, and ye holy apostles and prophets, for God hath avenged you on her._" Reader, you hope to go to heaven; but it may be a different place from what you dream of. Did you ever study the employment of the saints there? Are you washed from your sins? Is your mind purified from your carnal notions? Unless a man be born again he can not see the kingdom of God. Are your likes and dislikes, your sentiments and sympathies, your understanding and your will, all brought into subjection to Christ? Can you heartily love and adore a sin-hating, sin-avenging God? Or do you shrink back in terror or dislike from God's denunciations of wrath against the wicked? Would your benevolence lead you to deal alike with the righteous and the wicked; and to abhor the thought of destroying them that destroy the earth? Then how will you join in the hallelujahs of heaven; for God's judgments are the themes of thanksgiving and praise from saints and angels there, and this is their song: "_Hallelujah, salvation, and glory, and honor, and power, unto the Lord, our God, for true and righteous are his judgments; for he hath judged the great whore, which did corrupt the earth with her fornication, and hath avenged the blood of his servants at her hands. And again they said, Hallelujah! And her smoke rose up for ever and ever. And the four and twenty elders and the four living creatures fell down and worshiped God that sat on the throne, saying, Amen! Hallelujah! And a voice came out of the throne, saying, Praise our God, all ye his servants; and ye that fear him, both small and great. And I heard as it were the voice of a great multitude, and as the voice of many waters, and as the voice of mighty thunderings, saying, Hallelujah!_ FOR THE LORD GOD OMNIPOTENT REIGNETH."[184] And now, if this be the character of God, if he be indeed one who hates iniquity, and punishes impenitent sinners, we need not wonder that those who spake his word should utter imprecations, either in the Old Testament or in the New; but rather bless the mercy which warns before justice strikes, which hangs the red lantern over the abyss, and which seeks by the terrors of the Lord to persuade men from perdition. The curses of the Bible are denounced against the enemies of God, with the design of showing sinners their danger, and leading them to repentance. The conclusion, then, of our investigation is, that the Old Testament is the Word of God no less than the New; that it is in no respect contrary to it; that all its parts--the law and the prophets, and the Psalms--are of divine authority; that all its contents were written by divine direction, whether prophecy or history, ceremony or morality, promise or threatening, curses or blessings. It is of the Old Testament principally that the Holy Ghost declares: "_All Scripture is given by inspiration of God, and is profitable for doctrine, for reproof, for correction, for instruction in righteousness; that the man of God may be perfect, thoroughly furnished unto all good works._"[185] FOOTNOTES: [120] Parker's Absolute Religion, p. 205. [121] Parker's Discourses on Religion, p. 161. [122] Macknight's Doctrine of Inspiration, p. 161, and seq. [123] Macknight's Doctrine of Inspiration, p. 192, etc. [124] Essays and Reviews, page 121. [125] John, chap. x. 25, 38. [126] Annual of Scientific Discovery, 1864, p. 254. Annual Cyclopædia, 1863, p. 377. [127] Mastodon Giganteus, Boston, 1855, p. 199. [128] For a fuller discussion of the subject, and references to the authorities, which our space here forbids, I must refer the curious reader to the _Princeton Review_, Vol. XL. No. 4, where I have noticed every fact bearing on the subject up to that date; merely adding that no new fact, establishing man's remote antiquity, has been established up to this date, September 21, 1874. [129] Familiar Lectures, page 456. [130] Authenticity of the Pentateuch, II. 150. [131] Creation's Testimony to its God. London, 1867, page 338. [132] See this subject more fully discussed in chapter XII., Telescopic Views of Scripture. [133] Osburn's Monumental History. [134] Hebrew Monarchy, 160. [135] Prof. Rawlinson's Modern Skepticism, 285. [136] Ancient Monarchies I. 65. [137] W. R. Cooper, Secretary Biblical Archæological Society, in _Faith and Free Thought_, page 257. [138] Rawlinson's Illustrations of Scripture. [139] 2 Kings, chap. iv. 2 Chronicles, chap. xx. [140] Recovery of Jerusalem, page 496, Gunsberg's Essay. [141] Josephus against Apion, Book I. Sect. 8. Horne's Introduction Chap. ii. Sect. 1. [142] Isaiah, chap. iii. 16. Ezekiel, chap. xviii. 12. [143] Jeremiah, chaps. xxi., and xxii. 16. [144] Jeremiah, chap. xxii. 13. [145] Jeremiah, chap. xxxiv. [146] Ezra, chap. vi. 18. [147] Daniel, chap. ix. 11. [148] Joshua, chaps. xiii.-xix. [149] 1 Chronicles, chaps. i.-ix. Leviticus, chap. xxv. [150] Exodus, chap. xxi. 6. Deuteronomy, chap. i. 16; chap. xix. [151] Exodus, chap. xviii. 21. [152] Deuteronomy, chap. xx. Numbers, chap. x. 9. [153] Deuteronomy, chap. xxii. 8, 11, 12. Leviticus, chap. xi. [154] Preface to Exposition of the Apocalypse. [155] Luke, chap. xxiv. 25. [156] John, chap. v. 38, 39, 46, 47. [157] Matthew, chap. v. 17, 18. [158] Luke, chap. xxiv. throughout. [159] John, chap. xx. 30. [160] Luke, chap. xvi. 29. [161] Galatians, chap. iii. 21. [162] Job, chap. xix. 25. Psalm xvi. 10. Hebrews, chap. xi. 13-16. Daniel, chap. xii. 2, 3. [163] Matthew, chap. xxii. 31, 32. [164] Matthew, chap. v. 43. [165] Matthew, chap. vii. 12. [166] Matthew, chap. xxii. 35-40. [167] Deuteronomy, chap. xxvii. 26. [168] Hebrews, chap. x. 30. [169] Matthew, chap. xi. [170] 2 Thessalonians, chap. i. [171] Revelation, chap. xix. [172] Isaiah, chap. lv. [173] Exodus, chap. iv. 22. [174] Malachi, chap. i. [175] Exodus, chap. xxxiv. [176] Psalm xxii. [177] 2 Timothy, chap. iv. 14. [178] Psalm vii. [179] Psalms vii. and lii. and 2 Samuel, chaps. xvi., xxi. and xxii. [180] 1 Corinthians, chap. x. [181] John, chap. ii. 17; chap. xv. 25; chap. xix. 28. Acts, chap. i. 20. [182] Matthew, chap. xxv. 41. [183] Galatians, chap. i. 9. 1 Corinthians, chap. xvi. 22. Revelation, chaps. xix., xx. and xxi. [184] Revelation, chaps. xix., xx. and xxi. [185] 2 Timothy, chap. iii. 16, 17. CHAPTER X. INFIDELITY AMONG THE STARS. A little or superficial knowledge of philosophy may incline a man's mind to Atheism; but depth in philosophy bringeth men's minds about to religion.--BACON. When skeptics, who are determined not to believe in the Bible, find the historical evidences of its genuineness, authority, and inspiration, impregnable against the assaults of criticism, they turn their attention to some other mode of attack, and of late years have selected their weapons from the physical sciences. The argument thus raised is, that the Bible can not be the Word of God, because it asserts facts contrary to the teachings of science. Of this warfare Voltaire may be considered the leader, in his celebrated attack on the chemical processes recorded in Scripture; in which he exposed himself to the ridicule of all the chemists and metallurgists in Europe, by denying the possibility of dissolving the golden calf; the solution of gold being actually found in every gilder's shop in Paris, and known even to coiners and forgers, for hundreds of years before he made this notable discovery. The result was ominous. The whole circle of the sciences has been ransacked for such arguments, and especially has every new discovery been hailed by skeptics as an ally to their cause, until further acquaintance has demonstrated that the stranger, too, was in alliance with religion. Thus, when a few years ago, Geology began to upheave his titanic form, he was eagerly greeted as a being undoubtedly not of celestial, but rather of subterranean, or even of infernal origin, willing to employ his gigantic powers in the assault upon heaven, and able to overwhelm the Bible and the Church under the ruins of former worlds. But now that skeptics have discovered the proofs he gives of the presence of the Almighty on this world of ours, they are getting shy of his acquaintance, and are cultivating the society of some still more juvenile visitors from the chambers of animal magnetism and biology. The same scene will doubtless be acted over again; and these infantile strangers, when able to give distinct utterance to the facts of their developed consciousness, will bear testimony to the truth of God. Such objections to the Bible are very rarely brought forward by truly scientific men. It is a phenomenon, like the advent of a great comet, to find a man profoundly versed in science attack the Bible. Your third or fourth rate men of learning attain distinction in this field. An anti-Bible writer or lecturer has generally been promoted to that high eminence from the school-room, or the editorial sanctum of an unsuccessful newspaper; or his patients have not sufficiently appreciated his physic; or he has failed in getting a patent right for his wonderful perpetual motion; or possibly he has enlarged his practical knowledge of science in the laboratory of some college, or has had his head turned by being asked to hear the mathematical recitations during the sickness of some professor. But to hear of men like Galileo, Kepler, Boyle, Newton, and Leibnitz, or Lyell, Mantell, Herschel, Agassiz, Hitchcock, Faraday, Balbo, Nichol, or Rosse, heading an attack upon Christianity, would be an unprecedented phenomenon. Such men are profoundly impressed with the thorough agreement between the facts of nature rightly observed, and the declarations of the Bible rightly interpreted. It is equally rare to hear of a specialist in any department of science assume Atheistic ground in that department; though a few of that class are willing to believe that some other department of science, of which they have no personal knowledge, favors Infidelity. Even Huxley, with all his nonsense about the identical composition of the protoplasm of the mutton chop, and that of the lecturer, denies, and disproves, spontaneous generation, and votes in the London School Board for the reading of the Bible. The leading Infidel writers, such as Comte and Spencer, are not distinguished by any personal scientific researches and discoveries; they are merely collectors and retailers, at second-hand, of other men's discoveries. The original scientific explorers and discoverers are few and modest. Nevertheless, the other class, being both the most numerous and the most noisy, make up by loquacity for their deficiency of science, and counterbalance their ignorance by their assurance. Such writers, assuming that they have outstripped all the philosophers of former days, will tell you how foolishly David, and Kepler, and Bacon, and Newton, and Herschel dreamed of the heavens declaring the glory of the Lord, and the firmament showing his handiwork; "while at the present time, and for minds properly familiarized with true astronomical philosophy, the heavens display no other powers than those of natural laws, and no other glory than that of Hipparchus, of Kepler, of Newton, and of all who have helped to discover them." Theology belongs only to the infancy of the human intellect; metaphysical philosophy is the amusement of youth; but the full-grown man has learned to relinquish both religion and reason, and comes to the "positive state of science in which the human mind, acknowledging the impossibility of obtaining absolute knowledge, abandons the search after the origin and destination of the universe, and the knowledge of the secret causes of phenomena." The crown of modern science is ultimately to be placed upon the brow of Atheism; but long before that eagerly desired achievement, the old Bible theology is to be buried beyond the possibility of a resurrection, under mountains of natural laws, and monuments of scientific discovery. These assertions, confidently made, and perseveringly reiterated in the ears of ungodly men ignorant of the facts, of impetuous youths eager to throw off the restraints of religion, of Christians weak in the faith, and even poured into the unsuspecting mind of childhood, produce the most painful results; and it becomes the imperative duty of the bishops of the Church of Christ not to allow them to pass unchallenged, but to convince the gainsayers, and stop the mouths of these unruly and vain talkers; or, if that be not possible, to make their folly manifest to all men. The implements for such a service are well tried and abundant, and the difficulty lies only in making a proper selection. At first view, the extinction of religion by science seems very unlikely. It is as unlikely that any thing that an Infidel says about religion should be true, as that a blind man should describe the sun correctly, or even read a chapter accurately, with the book open before him? I shall show you presently that learned Infidels make the grossest blunders respecting the plainest Scripture records of scientific facts. It is very unlikely that Infidels, who lay no claim to prophetic inspiration, should make any predictions about religion more reliable than those they have been telling so abundantly for two hundred years past, respecting the immediate overthrow of Christianity and the Bible; which, nevertheless, has been going on conquering new kingdoms every year, its missionaries outstripping scientific ardor in exploring the mysteries of African geography, honorably receiving the prizes which the Infidel Volney instituted for philological proficiency, and printing Bibles from Voltaire's printing-press. And it is very unlikely that these physical sciences, so long worshipers in the temple of God, should now become impious; as unlikely as that Hitchcock, or McCosh, or Hodge, or Barnes should now, in their old days, renounce the Bible, and blaspheme God. What! astronomy, and zoology, and botany, and ethnography, that were suckled at the breast of the Bible, raise their hands against the mother that bore them! Incredible! These sciences made an early profession of religion; taught Sabbath-school in the days of Job, Zophar, and Elihu; wrote sacred poetry, and were licensed to preach, in the days of Solomon; poured forth prophetic raptures in the days of Uzziah, Jotham, Ahaz, and Hezekiah; wrote volumes on the politics of Christianity in Babylon, and painted glorious visions of the victories of the Lamb of God, and dazzling views of the landscapes of paradise restored, in Patmos; employed the gigantic intellect of Newton, the elegant pen of Paley, the eloquence of Chalmers, Herschel's heaven-piercing eye, and Miller's muscular arm, to guard the outer courts of the sanctuary, while they sung sublime anthems to the music of David's harp within. Have they now, after such a life of devotion, relinquished all these sublimities and beatitudes, taken lodgings in the sty, and renounced their faith in God, and hope of heaven, for the Infidel maxim, "Let us eat and drink, for to-morrow we die?" God forbid! On the contrary, all matured science glorifies its Creator. As a specimen of the testimony of matured science to religion, let us look at the progress of astronomy, as it has successively swept away one Atheistic theory after another, answered anti-Bible objections, and illustrated promises couched in heavenly figures, long incomprehensible to the Church. If, in order to present something like a fair outline of the bearings of astronomy on modern Atheism, we should have occasion to repeat, expand, and illustrate some things already introduced in previous chapters, the repetition won't hurt us. A good story is nothing the worse for being twice told; and the story of our opponents is nothing but a ceaseless repetition of the Atheism of twenty centuries. The progress of astronomical science has swept away the alleged facts on which all systems of Atheism have been based. 1. _It has refuted the fundamental dogma of Atheism, that the universe is infinite, and therefore self-existent._ The assertion is confidently made by Atheists and Pantheists, that the universe has no boundaries; not merely none which we can see, but that it actually fills all immensity; suns succeeding suns, and firmament clustering beyond firmament, throughout infinite space. It is indispensable for the Atheist not only to assert, but to prove this to be the fact, if he would convince himself, or any other person, that the universe had no Creator, but exists by the necessity of its own nature; for that which exists by the necessity of its own nature must exist in all time, and in every place. No reason can be given why self-existent suns, planets, and moons should exist in any one portion of space, and not exist in any other similar portion of space. For if such a reason could be given, that reason must show a cause for their existence in the one place, and their non-existence in another; and that cause must have existed before the universe, and must have been a cause sufficient to produce the effect. This sufficient cause includes ability to produce, wisdom to arrange, and force to put in motion all the powers of the universe; qualities which reside only in an intelligent being. This is the cause which the Bible asserts when it says, "In the beginning GOD created the heavens and the earth," and which Atheists deny when they assert that "the universe is eternal and infinite." Now, this fundamental article of the creed of Infidels is utterly incapable of proof. If the fact were really so, they never could prove it. They acknowledge no revelation from an infinite understanding, but found their belief on the knowledge of a number of finite and ignorant beings. Before they are competent to pronounce upon the extent of the universe, they must explore it thoroughly; which, when they shall have done, they will have demonstrated that it has boundaries, seeing they have discovered them; but, if they have not thoroughly explored the universe, they can not say that it is infinite, because they do not know. The very utmost, then, which could possibly be asserted on the matter would be, not that the universe has no boundaries, but that man has never reached them. As in the case of ocean soundings, if we can not find bottom, we are not therefore to conclude that there is none, but that our line is not long enough, or our lead not heavy enough to reach it. It were a logical absurdity to say, that the whole is greater than the sum of its parts--that any number of finite parts could compose an infinite universe. Each sun or planet is a finite object, and any possible number of them can be counted in a sufficient time. It is impossible that any number can be infinite; for we are not using the word infinite here in the loose sense in which it is used by mathematicians, when they speak of an infinite series; that is, a series which, though it has no end, has a beginning; but in the strict sense of something having neither beginning nor end. A beginning of the universe, either in space or time, is the very thing the Atheist denies. The same objection applies to the allegation, that infinite space is full of ether, air, gas, nebulæ, or any other kind of matter. It is an assertion incapable of proof; and therefore thoroughly unscientific; as all Infidel theories are. But if it could be proven that every part of space accessible to our telescopes is full of an ether whose undulations transmit light, as we believe it can, that would be only a proof of the finitude of matter. That ether consists of parts whose movements can be measured and numbered; and no possible multitude of such parts can amount to the infinite. While reason thus enables us to show this dogma of the infinity of the universe to be theoretically improbable, and logically irrational, science has lately taken a more decisive step, and demonstrated it to be actually false. The universe has boundaries, and we have seen them. The proof is simple, and easily demonstrable. That broad band of luminous cloud which stretches across the heaven, called the Milky Way, consists of millions of stars, so small and distant that we can not see the individual stars, and so numerous that we can not help seeing the light of the mass; just as you see the outline of the forest at a distance, but are unable to distinguish the individual trees. Besides this mass of stars to which our solar system belongs, there are thousands of smaller similar clouds in various parts of the heavens, which have successively been shown to consist of multitudes of stars. But all around these star-clouds the clear blue sky is discovered by the naked eye. Now, it is easy to perceive, that if all the regions of infinite space were filled either with self-luminous suns, or planets capable of reflecting light, or luminous nebulæ, or comets of gaseous consistency, at such distances as the Milky Way, or any other star-cloud demonstrates to be safe and practicable, we should see no blue sky at all; but the whole vault of heaven would present that whitish light resulting from the mingling of the rays of multitudes of stars, planets, and comets, which the Milky Way does actually exhibit. No matter how small or how distant these stars, _if they were only infinitely numerous_, it is impossible that there could be any point in the heavens unilluminated by their rays, even although the stars themselves were invisible to our eyes, or even to our telescopes. The whole heaven would be one vast Milky Way. Or rather, as Humboldt reasons, "If the entire vault of heaven were covered with innumerable strata of stars, one behind the other, as with a widespread starry canopy, and light were undiminished in its passage through space, the sun would be distinguished only by its spots, the moon would appear as a dark disc, and amid the general blaze not a constellation would be visible."[186] It would appear also to follow, as a necessary consequence, that such an infinite multitude of blazing suns must generate a heat compared with which the general conflagration would be cool and comfortable. But the telescope shows us a state of matters vastly different from this. It shows us, in fact, that space, so far from being occupied with suns and stars, is mostly empty. Our universe is only a little island in the great ocean of infinite space. Though the telescope discovers multitudes of stars where the naked eye sees none, yet they are, in far the greater number of instances, "_seen projected on a perfectly dark heaven, without any appearance of intermixed nebulosity_."[187] And even through the Milky Way, and the other nebulæ, the telescope penetrates, through "_intervals absolutely dark, and completely void of any star, of the smallest telescopic magnitude_."[188] It may assist us to understand the full import of this declaration, to remember that Lord Rosse's large telescope clearly defines any object on the moon's surface as large as the Custom House. Its power of penetrating space surpasses our power of imagination, but is represented by saying, that light, which flashes from San Francisco to London quicker than you can close your eye and open it again, requires _millions of years_ to travel to our earth from the most distant star-cloud discoverable by this telescope.[189] If a galaxy like this of ours existed anywhere within this amazing distance, that telescope would discover its existence. It has, in fact, augmented the universe visible to us, 125,000,000 times, and thus made us feel that not merely this world, which constitutes our earthly all, and yon glorious sun, which shines upon it, but all the host of heaven's suns, and planets, and moons, and firmaments, which our unaided eyes behold, are but as a handful of the sand of the ocean shore compared with the immensity of the universe. But ever, and along with this, it has shown us the ocean as well as the shore, and revealed boundless regions of darkness and solitude stretching around and far away beyond these islands of existence. The telescope, then, enlarges and confirms our views of the extent of the unoccupied portions of space. If there were only one dark point of the heavens no larger than the apparent magnitude of the smallest star, this one unoccupied space would sufficiently disprove the infinity of the universe, inasmuch as there would be a portion of space of boundless length, and of a diameter not less than the diameter of the earth's orbit, say 190,000,000 miles, in which stars might exist, as they do in its borders, but yet do not. But the argument becomes utterly overwhelming, when the attempt is made to calculate the proportion of space occupied by the stars to that left unoccupied. Whether we take Herschel's computation, that the nebulæ cover one two hundred and seventieth part of the superficies of the visible heaven,[190] or Struve's supposition of the existence of a star subtending no measurable angle, in every part of the visible sky as large as the surface of the moon, the vast disproportion of the universe, to the space in which it is placed, forces itself upon our notice. For, upon the largest of these computations, the proportion of existence to empty space is mathematically proved to be not greater than as the cube of one to the cube of two hundred and sixty-nine; that is to say, there is room for 19,395,109 such universes as this of ours in that small part of infinite space open to the view of Herschel's telescopes. But when we come to consider the vastness of these regions of darkness, over which no light has traveled for twenty millions of years, and remember also that astronomers have looked clear through the nebulæ, and find that they bear no more cubical proportion to the infinite darkness behind them than the sparks of a chimney do to the extent of the sky against which they seem projected, so far from imagining the universe to be infinite, we stand confounded at its relative insignificance, and are convinced that it bears no more proportion to infinite space than a fishing-boat does to the Atlantic Ocean. There is no possible evasion of this great fact, by any contradictory hypothesis. It can not be objected "that stars may exist at infinite distances, whose light has not yet reached the limits of our universe." If they do, they did not exist from eternity, for there is no possible distance over which light could not have traveled, during eternal duration. But their eternal existence is the very thing which the Atheist is concerned to prove. Grant that infinite space is filled with worlds _which had a beginning_, and their necessary existence instantly falls, and we are compelled to seek for a cause of their beginning of existence; that is to say, a Creator. Nor will it answer the purpose to say, "that for anything we know to the contrary, these dark regions may be filled with dark stars." If the fact were so, it is equally fatal to the dogma of self-existence. Some stars shine; others are dark. Why so? Wherefore this difference? Variety is an effect, and demands a prior cause. Were there only two stars in the sky, or two substances on the earth, and those unlike in any particular, that plurality, and that variety, would prove that they could not be infinite or self-existent, but dependent upon some cause for their existence, and for their variety of form. But we do know many things contrary to the notion that the dark regions of infinite space may be full of dark stars. Light is not the only indication of the presence of a star. The attraction of gravity, which is wholly independent of light, is a proof quite as certain and satisfactory to the astronomer. The presence of stars and planets too faint to be discovered by the naked eye, and of one, the planet Neptune,[191] as far distant from the planet disturbed by its attraction as the earth is from the sun, was ascertained, and its place pointed out by Adams and Le Verrier, _before it was seen_. If the dark interplanetary spaces, then, were full of dark attracting bodies, the perturbations of the other planets would discover their existence. So the presence of some invisible stars at much greater distances from their visible associates has been discovered by Bessel,[192] and it is quite possible that a dark firmament may yet be discovered, containing as great a number of dark stars as we now behold of luminaries; another group of islets in the ocean of infinite space. But the very facts which will prove their existence will disprove their infinity; for we can know their presence only by their perturbation of the proper motions of the visible stars; but if infinite space were full of dark bodies, the visible stars would have no room to move at all. It is easily demonstrable, that if infinite space were filled with dark stars, the equilibrium and coherence of our galaxy, and of all other clusters of stars, would be destroyed. The existence of nebulæ, and clusters, and the revolutions of the binary stars, are conclusive proof that the dark parts of infinite space are not full of dark attracting bodies. Nor can the Atheist here raise his usual argument from unknown facts, and say that, "far beyond the range of our most powerful telescopes, a boundless expanse of firmaments may exist." It concerns not our present argument whether such exist or not. Whatsoever discoveries may be made to eternity, of firmaments, ten thousand times ten thousand times larger than we now behold, _they can never bear the smallest proportion to the infinite space in which they exist_. Beyond these islets will extend gulfs and oceans immeasurable. Our argument, however, has no concern with the unknown possible, but with the actual fact--visible to the naked eye and confirmed by the telescope--that there is a portion of space in which millions of universes such as this might exist with safety, yet they do not. Worlds, therefore, do not exist by the necessity of their own nature, wherever there is room for them, but must have had some pre-existent, external, and supernatural cause of their existence in this place and not in other places. This implies choice--will--God. The physical refutation of the self-existence of the universe is completed by the discovery, _that all the orbs of heaven, as well as the earth, are in motion, and that an orderly and regulated motion_.[193] The fact need not be illustrated, for it is not denied. The consequence is inevitable. That which is self-existent must be unchangeable; for change is an effect, and demands a cause; and the cause must exist before the effect, and produce it. Whatsoever is changeable, then, is a product of a prior cause, and so not self-existent. But every part of the universe is changeable, for it is in motion, which is a change of place; and, therefore, is not self-existent, but the product of a prior cause. Professor Fick, who was some time since called from Zurich to fill the professorship of physiology at Wurzburg, and who is known by his experiments on muscular physics, in a recent work on the transformation of force, brings out the argument in proof of the non-eternity of our universe in a new form. He shows that heat is continually being lost by radiation; and when mechanical force is converted into heat _some_ of that heat can never be brought back to be mechanical force. And as this change from mechanical force to heat is ever going on, all force must at last turn into heat, in which case all difference of temperature would be lost and universal stagnation and death would be the result. He then concludes in the following words, which we quote from _Nature_, Macmillan's weekly: "We are come to this alternative; either in our highest, or most general, our most fundamental scientific abstractions some great point has been overlooked; or the universe will have an end, and must have had a beginning; could not have existed from eternity, but must at some date, not infinitely distant, have arisen from something not forming part of the chain of natural causes, _i. e._, must have been created."[194] To this it has been replied, that motion is the normal condition of matter; arising from the force of gravitation, acting in and upon the various bodies composing the universe; and mathematical calculations have been attempted to show how vortices, and spiral motions, could be produced by the force of gravitation, and the mutual resistances of the atoms originally composing the universe. But this attempt is easily seen to be a failure. The attraction of gravitation alone can not possibly produce any such motion as we behold in the heavens; nor can it originate, nor sustain, any kind of eternal motion whatever. For the attraction of gravitation is always in right lines; but there is no rectilinear motion in the heavens; all celestial motions are curvilinear. Nor can the attraction of gravitation account for the maintenance of any kind of eternal motion. Its tendency is to draw all bodies to the center of gravity, and to keep them there, in one vast heap, by the force of their mutual attraction; thus bringing all motion to an eternal rest. To this it is now replied that motion is the equivalent of light, heat, electricity, and chemical reaction; all of which are convertible into motion. These are properties of matter, and inseparable from it, and so as eternal as itself. We have already disproved the eternity of matter; but if, for the sake of argument, it were granted, yet would not the regulated and orderly motions of the universe be thereby accounted for. For these forces either exactly balance the force of gravitation, or they do not. If they do not, and their repulsion prevails, by even the slightest degree, the particles of matter had been driven away into infinite space millions of years ago, and suns, and planets, and atheistic philosophers, would have vanished like the baseless fabric of a vision. But if the attraction of gravitation had prevailed, by even the weight of an ounce, long ages ago sun, moon and stars would have rushed together into one vast mountain mass, whose attraction would have been so great, that no living creature could move upon its surface, and whose parts would be compressed into a density compared with which quicksilver would be lighter than cork. But if, on the other hand, it be alleged, that these inherent forces of matter exactly balance its power of gravitation--with which they have no other apparent relation--then the argument is irresistible, that these grains of sand and drops of water and globes of granite being unequal to such calculations, there was some calculating engineer at work arranging the motions of the stars. No mechanical law is a sufficient cause for this motion. To allege that a power of orderly, regulated motion--and there is no other sort of motion in heaven or earth--is an inherent property of matter, is simply to insult our common sense, and overturn the foundation of all reason. For we have no knowledge of matter, and can have none, more certain than we have of the constitution of our own minds, which requires us to trace up every change among material objects to _the energy and will of a person_ capable of planning and effecting the change. To refer us to the law of gravity is not to give us a cause for the motions of the heavenly bodies, but only a _name_; for law is only _a rule of action_. We demand a lawgiver--an agent--a _force_, capable of producing effects. When the law of projectiles makes a cannon-ball, and projects it, we will believe that the law of gravity made the worlds, and moves them. "Descending within the mind's interior chambers, I find no conviction so sure of the existence of an external world, as is my belief in the reality of _power_--of something that sustains succession, and causes order. Again, then, whence this idea, and what is it? What this attribute with which I endow material laws, and raise them into _forces_? Now, in my apprehension, the strictest scrutiny can not obtain for these inquiries any reply save one; we _primarily_ connect the idea of _power_ with no change or movement, except an act or determination of the FREE WILL; but from such acts, that idea is inseparable. If, therefore, in order to explain the progress of material things, we require the agency of _efficient causes_, is not this a direct and solemn recognition--through all form and transiency--of the necessity of an _ever-present creative power_; a power requisite and necessary to uphold--to renew the universe every moment--or, rather, to prolong creation by the persistence of the creative act? And, in very truth, startling though it be, such is the only and ultimate scientific idea of the divine omnipresence. Law is not even the Almighty's minister; the order of the material world, however close and firm, is not merely the Almighty's ordinance. The _forces_, if so we name them, which express that order, are not powers which he has evolved from the silences, and to whose guardianship he has committed all things, so that he himself might repose. No! above, below, around, _there_ is God; there his universal presence, speaking to finite creatures, in finite forms, a language which only the living heart can understand. In the rain and sunshine; in the soft zephyrs; in the cloud, the torrent, and the thunder; in the bursting blossom, and the fading branch; in the revolving season, and the rolling star; there is the infinite essence, and the mystic development of HIS WILL."[195] 2. _Scientific astronomy inexorably demolishes the Atheistic scheme for the arrangement of the solar system by accident, commonly known as Buffon's cosmogony._ "Buffon supposed that the force of a comet falling obliquely on the sun has projected to a distance a torrent of the matter of which it is composed, as a stone thrown into a basin causes the water which it contains to splash out. This torrent of matter, in a state of fusion, has broken into several parts, which have been arrested at different distances from the sun, according to their density, or the impetus they received. They then united in spheres, by the effect of the motion of rotation, and condensing by cold, have become opaque and solid planets and satellites."[196] This formation of worlds by accident, it is true, gave no reason for the form of their orbits, for their rotation on their axes, in one direction, and that, too, the direction of their motion, nor for several other matters, of which Infidels make little account, but about which plain men like to ask, namely: Where did the sun come from? What melted it down into a fluid state, fit to be splashed about? Where did the comet come from? And who threw it with so correct an aim through infinite space as exactly to hit the sun _in an oblique direction_. Creation, it seems, was nearly missed, after all. This chaotic theory never gained much respect from men of science, though its simplicity speedily opened its way among the vulgar, and it has ever been a favorite with the most ignorant class of Infidels, numbering thousands of warm advocates, even at the present day. It was thought to be very much corroborated by the discovery of the asteroids, and their supposed formation by the explosion of a larger body. There is a certain proportion observed in the distances of the orbits of the planets from each other--a breadth or gauge, as it were, on the celestial railroad. But there was the breadth of a track between the orbits of Mars and Jupiter on which no train ran, and this vacancy excited the curiosity of astronomers. In the first seven years of this century, three very small planets were discovered, running near this track; and Dr. Olbers, the discoverer of Pallas, finding that they were nearly in the same track, and sometimes crossed each other, and that they were diminutively small--bearing about the same proportion to a regular planet which a hand-car does to a freight train--imagined that they were formed by the explosion of a large planet; that the boiler of the large locomotive had burst, the fragments had all lighted upon the track again, in the shape of hand-cars, and the hand-cars had magnanimously resolved to keep running, and do the business of the line; and that, as there must have been material enough in the original planet to make some thousands of them, more would be discovered by watching two depots, at the crossings of the tracks, in the constellations Virgo and the Whale, where they must all pass. In fact, he did himself find another, very near one of these nodes; more recently many others have been found; and astronomers now expect to hear of one or two more every year. At first sight his theory seemed strengthened by every new discovery. It is true, reflecting men could not help wondering at such a marvelously regular explosion as would produce beautiful little orderly planets, going so regularly too, and all by accident. They never heard of the blowing up of a palace producing cottages, or the explosion of a steamboat throwing off the hurricane deck in the shape of whaleboats, or the bursting of a locomotive producing model engines, or even hand-cars. However, as the theory removed God out of sight, it was generally accepted and freely used by Infidels, to show that the world had no need of a Creator. But astronomers saw, that as each new asteroid had a track of its own, and ran to a different terminus, and the roads in which they ran were of different gauges and grades--one little asteroid, Pallas, running up and down a track inclined thirty-five degrees, just as speedily as the others--every new discovery increased the difficulty of accounting for their origin by explosion. But the discovery of the planet Hygeia, at a vast distance from the others, utterly overturned the explosion theory. Loomis says: "The difficulties in the way of our regarding these small planets, as fragments of a single body, were well nigh-insuperable before the discovery of Hygeia. This last discovery has probably given the death-blow to the theory of Olbers. The orbit of Hygeia completely incloses the orbits of several of the asteroids, its perihelion distance--that is, its least distance from the sun--exceeding the aphelion--or greatest distance--of Flora by _twenty-five millions of miles_. _No change of position of the orbits could, therefore, bring these orbits to a coincidence._"[197] The matter has been finally settled by the greatest of modern mathematicians, Le Verrier, who has subjected the eccentricities, distances, and inclinations of the orbits of the asteroids to a mathematical investigation, the result of which is as follows: "In the present state of things, these eccentricities and these inclinations are totally incompatible with Olbers' hypothesis, which supposed that the small planets--some of which were discovered even in his day--were produced from the wreck of a larger star, which had exploded. The forces necessary to launch the fragments of a given body in such different routes (whose existence we should be obliged to suppose) would be of such an improbable intensity, that the most limited mathematical knowledge could not but see its absurdity." He concludes the memoir by advancing four propositions, "which forever annihilate Olbers' hypothesis."[198] 3. _The progress of astronomical discovery has utterly refuted the notion of creation by natural law, known as the Development Theory, or the Nebular Hypothesis._ Scientific Infidels knew that there was too much order and regularity in the motions of the planets to allow any rational mind to ascribe these motions to accident, according to Buffon's notion. They saw that these movements must be regulated by law. La Place, an eminent mathematician, saw that there are at least five great regularities pervading the system, for which Buffon's theory gave no reason: 1. The planets all move in elliptical orbits, nearly circular. They might, on the contrary, have been as elongated as those of comets. 2. They revolve in orbits nearly in the plane of the sun's equator. They might have revolved in orbits inclined to it at any angle, or even in the plane of his poles. 3. They revolve around the sun all in the same direction, which is the direction of his rotation on his axis. 4. They rotate on their axes, also, so far as known, in the same direction. 5. The satellites (with the exception of those of Uranus) revolve around their primary planets, and also rotate on their axes, in the same normal direction. It was evident, even to the believers in chance, that so many regularities were not produced by accident. La Place found, by computing the chances by the formula of probabilities, that the chances were two millions to one against these regularities happening by chance, _and four millions to one in favor of these motions having a common origin_. The grand phenomenon being a motion of rotation in the whole system, of which the rotation of the sun is the central part, he thought if he could account for this, he could explain all the rest. He set out by supposing, that the sun and planets originally existed as a vast cloud of gaseous matter, intensely heated--a vast fire-mist--placed in a region of space much cooler, and that this cloud, by gradual cooling, and the pressure of its parts, settled down into solid forms. It was supposed that some portions of this cloud would begin to cool sooner than others, and so become solid sooner, and that the hot gas, rushing to the solid part, would form a vortex, which would set the cloud in motion around its center. As the speed of its rotation would increase, and the outside condense and grow solid before the inside, the cloud would whirl off the rings of solid matter, which would keep revolving in the same orbits in which they were cast off, and would revolve faster and faster as they grew cooler and more solid, till they broke up, by the force of their velocity, into smaller pieces; which fragments, in their turn, repeated the process, until the present number of planets and their satellites was produced.[199] This theory differs from Buffon's much as a low pressure engine, deriving most of its power from the condenser, differs from one of high pressure. La Place does not explode the boiler to make his planets, but merely runs his train so fast as to break an axle every now and then, when the wheel runs off with the velocity it has got, and keeps its track as well as if it had an engineer to guide it, grows into a little locomotive by dint of running, and after a while breaks an axle too--breaking is a hereditary failing of these suns and planets that had no God to make them--and the wheels thus thrown off supply it with moons and rings, like Saturn's. The illustration is not nearly so absurd as the theory, inasmuch as a locomotive is an incomparably less complicated contrivance than a planet. However the nonsense was cradled in the halls of philosophy by means of antiquity, and distance. As no fiction was too marvelous for the credence of the Greek, if it were only a hundred years old, or located beyond the Euxine, so to our development philosopher any impossibility may be accepted, if it can only be dissolved into gas, and located a good many millions of miles away; and to make it an article of faith on which he will risk his soul, it is only necessary to give it a remote antiquity. No Papist ever insisted more on antiquity as the solvent of all absurdity. Antiquity, distance, and expansion are his trinity, with which all absurdities become scientific facts. Herschel had discovered numbers of nebulæ, or luminous clouds, in the distant heavens shining with a distinct light, but which, with the highest magnifying power he could apply, presented no trace of stars. Some nebulæ, it is true, his largest telescope resolved, like our own Milky Way, into beds of distinct stars; but there were others--for instance, one in the belt of Orion--visible to the naked eye as a cloud, but which his forty feet telescope only displayed as a larger cloud, without any shape of stars. Now, reasoning upon the matter, he found that if these nebulæ were composed of stars as large as those distinctly visible, they must be immensely distant to be indistinguishable by his telescope, and exceedingly numerous and close together to give a cloud of light visible to the naked eye. In fact, the suns of those firmaments must be so close to each other as to present a blaze of glory, and complexities of revolution inconceivable to the dwellers on earth. But as this daring idea seemed incredible, even to his giant mind, he thought the appearance of these nebulæ might be more rationally accounted for by supposing that they were not stars at all, but simply clouds of gaseous matter, like the matter of comets, from which he supposed that stars were formed by a long process of condensation and solidification. He thought this theory was favored by the fact, that nebulæ are generally seen in those portions of the heavens that are not thickly strewn with stars; and also by the various forms of these clouds. Some were merely loose clouds, without any definite form; others seemed gathering toward the center. In some, of a roundish, or oval form, the central mass seemed well defined. In a few, the process seemed nearly complete, a bright star shining in the midst of a faint nebulous halo. Here, then, it was said, we see the whole progress of the growth of stars; their development from the gaseous nebulous fluid into solid, brilliant suns. La Place accepted Herschel's discoveries as conclusive proof of the truth of his theory, and it was generally accepted by the scientific world. Oddly enough, Infidels seem not to have noticed that those appearances of _condensation toward the center_, which seemed to Herschel so strongly in favor of his theory of the nebulous fluid, were diametrically opposed to La Place's requirements of _condensation at the circumference_; and these two contradictory notions were supposed to support each other, and to furnish a solid basis for the development hypothesis. This theory, as stated by Herschel, and expounded by Nichol, Dick, and other Christian writers, _is not necessarily Atheistical_. On the contrary, they allege that it furnishes us with greater evidences of the power of God, and gives us higher ideas of his wisdom, to suppose a system of creation by development, under natural law, than by a direct exercise of his will. Undoubtedly, had God so pleased he could have made suns from fire-mists, according to some plan which his infinite wisdom could devise, and his omnipotent power could execute; but it is beyond the possibilities even of omniscience and omnipotence to make worlds, or to make anything but nonsense, according to La Place's plan. Had God so pleased, to make firmaments grow as forests do, and if he should please to enable us to discover such celestial growth in some distant part of heaven, we should have the same kind of evidence of his being, power, wisdom, and goodness in this creation by natural law which we now have from his providence by natural law, in the growth of the fruits of the earth, and as much greater an amount of it as the heavens are greater than the earth. The first beginning of primeval elements demands a Creator. The contrivance of the law of development proclaims a Contriver. The force by which it operates--whether that of gravity or chemical reaction--must be the force of an Agent. _The development theory, then, fails to account for the origin of the universe, or even of our own world._ Herbert Spencer, its most eloquent expounder, admits this. He says: "It remains only to point out that while the genesis of the solar system, and of countless other systems like it, is thus rendered comprehensible, the ultimate mystery continues as great as ever. The problem of existence is not solved; it is simply removed farther back. The Nebular Hypothesis throws no light on the origin of diffused matter; and diffused matter as much needs accounting for as concrete matter. The genesis of an atom is not easier to conceive than the genesis of a planet. Nay, indeed, so far from making the universe a less mystery than before, it makes it a greater mystery. Creation by manufacture is a much lower thing than creation by evolution. A man can put together a machine, but he can not make a machine develop itself. The ingenious artisan, able as some have been, so far to imitate vitality as to produce a mechanical piano-forte player, may in some sort conceive how, by greater skill, a complete man might be artificially produced; but he is unable to conceive how such a complex organism gradually arises out of a minute, structureless germ. That our harmonious universe once existed potentially as formless, diffused matter, and has slowly grown into its present organized state, is a far more astonishing fact than would have been its formation after the artificial method vulgarly supposed. Those who hold it legitimate to argue from phenomena to noumena, may rightly contend that the Nebular Hypothesis implies a First Cause as much transcending 'the mechanical god of Paley,' as this does the fetish of a savage."[200] The Nebular Hypothesis, then, can not exist without God. However, as it seems to remove him to a great distance from this present world, both in space and time, it has become popular with Atheists. The Nebular Hypothesis, as presented by Atheists, _imagines a state of primeval matter as simple, or homogeneous, of which science presents no example, in heaven or on earth_. This homogeneous condition of matter is the very foundation of the theory. Spencer reasons at great length, that all progress is from the simple to the differentiated. And it is indispensable for the Atheists to prove that the primeval world was composed of matter perfectly simple and homogeneous. If they alleged that it was composed of several ingredients, nobody would believe them that this compound was eternal. There is no conviction of common sense stronger than that every compound has been put together by some compounder. They could not persuade a child that a plum pudding made itself, or that a steamship filled with passengers existed so from eternity, much less a planet with a much larger crew and company. They therefore alleged that the first matter of the universe was perfectly homogeneous and simple. When common people objected that no such thing was to be seen in this world nowadays, since all things here--stones, water, air, earth, plants, animals--are compounded and built up out of a great variety of matters, they claimed that this is the result of the growth of our planet; but that the nebulæ, which astronomers see far away in the sky, are young suns and planets, just beginning to condense, and that the gas they consist of is the genuine, simple, homogeneous matter out of which this world, and all worlds, originally made themselves. They thought the nebulæ were so very far away that nobody would ever go there to see and come back to contradict them; and so they were quite safe in pointing to them as examples of homogeneous matter. Now one does not see, if the nebula had been exactly what the development men assert--_simple, homogeneous matter_--_how they could ever have made such a composite world as this out of it_, or indeed how they could make anything but itself out of it. No chemical actions or reactions can begin in a simple substance; there must always be at least two simple substances to make a compound. Heating or cooling a simple substance will never make it a compound. You may heat water in a boiler and cool it again as often as you please, but your heating and cooling will never make coffee out of it, unless you put coffee into it. So you may heat and cool your simple nebula to all eternity, but you will never get coffee out of it, much less coffee and coffee-pot, china and company, with the biscuits and butter; all which, and a great deal more, our philosophers contrive to churn out of the primeval homogeneous nebula. But the progress of science has enabled us to show that the nebulæ, far from being simple, homogeneous matter, are compounded of as many ingredients as the flame of your lamp or gas light, which is combined of half a score of different substances. By the discovery of Spectrum Analysis we are able to analyze the chemical composition of the most distant flames, to tell whether they proceed from solids or gases in a state of combustion, and what are the gases and minerals consumed in them. As space forbids the details of this discovery here, I can only state the results, namely that some of the nebulæ consist of clouds of small solid stars, of which the nebula in Orion is an instance; but others consist of flames of gases, in all cases compound, and showing, besides the oxygenated flame, the lines which declare the presence of hydrogen, and of several metals. Thus it is proved, that no such eternal, homogeneous nebulæ are to be found in heaven, and consequently nobody could ever make worlds out of a substance which had no existence. This theory of development was always _a mere notion, a castle in the air_, and never could be anything more. To say that it was mere moonshine would be to give it far too respectable a standing; for moonshine has a real existence, and may be seen and felt. But nobody ever saw or felt a homogeneous nebula. Indeed, its inventor never pretended that he, or anybody else, ever saw one; or saw it sailing off into moons, and planets, and suns, or ever would see any such thing. No scientific man has ever pretended that it was an established fact, or anything more than a theory, a notion. Young people, who are invited to hazard their souls on the strength of this miscalled scientific theory, should remember that it is not science, which means something a man knows, but merely a theory, which is some notion which he imagines. _It is an unsatisfactory notion._ It does not answer the purpose of its inventors. As we have already seen, it gives us no account of the origin of the homogeneous matter of the nebula. It gives no answer to the questions, How did it get to be so hot, while all the space around it was so cold? Is the fire that heated it burning still, or is it exhausted for want of fuel? Were the germs of all the plants and animals in it while it was blazing at a white heat? If they were, how did they escape being burnt to ashes? If they were not, where did they come from? For there was nothing but that nebula then in existence. Did it contain within itself all the principles of things, all the forces now found in the worlds which grew out of it? If so, how came they there? If not, how did attraction, and repulsion, vegetable life, animal life, intellect, and free will, work themselves into that cloud of homogeneous gas? Professor Tyndall thus exposes the absurdity of the supposition that the nebula contained the elements of mind: "For what are the core and essence of this hypothesis? Strip it naked and you stand face to face with the notion that not alone the more ignoble forms of animalcular or animal life, not alone the noble forms of the horse and lion, not alone the exquisite and wonderful mechanisms of the human body, but the human mind itself--emotion, intellect, will, and all these phenomena, were once latent in a fiery cloud. Surely the mere statement of such a notion is more than a refutation."[201] _It was only one of several contradictory notions._ Thus a writer in the _Atlantic Monthly_, so far from accepting the notion that the sun and earth are solidifying and cooling down, as explanatory of the facts revealed by astronomy and geology, infers the very contrary from the acknowledged facts, namely, that we are coming up to the nebular condition, rather than developing from it. He writes as follows: "The earth is progressing by excessively slow changes toward the solar and nebulous condition. Its history is a repetition of the solar, and a time must arrive when the surface, becoming incandescent, will be obscured only by casual dark pits in a brilliant atmosphere, a _souvenir_ of the present darkness of the crust; yet during a certain period, within fixed limits of gravitating force and heat of mass, the human race may continue to exist; progressing, we may suppose, in force and fineness of organization. The race will perish, perhaps, in the order of nature, by failure or insufficient number of offspring, a principal cause of the extinction of superior races. The earth must become lone and voiceless long before the incandescence of the crust. Science may follow it into the condition of an attendant star, and then of an expanding nebula. "In the cosmos all movements are cyclical, and recurrent, without change, save interchange among forms of motion. A universe which is, in its total, the same to-day as yesterday, and always, would appear idle and dull if it were not the footstool of divine force, upon which the creative will maintains a certain equipoise, necessary to the continued production of spiritual forms." _It is an impracticable notion, contrary to the first principle of mechanics, that action and reaction are equal._ The grand requirement of the system--power to work the engine--can never be raised by La Place's, nor by any other mechanical plan. The cooling cloud of fire-mist is simply a very big machine, and no machine can generate power to work itself. If La Place could have somehow or other got power for the motion of rotation outside of his cloud, he might have made it revolve, and scatter off great lumps of the lightest outside stuffs, as your grindstone scatters off drops of water when you turn it rapidly; but, having no such power, his theory is a plan to make the grindstone turn itself. It is, therefore, precisely of the same value as any one of the hundred of ingenious schemes for creating power by machinery, of the perpetual motion men, in defiance of the first law of mechanics, that action and reaction are equal. Moreover, he proposes to raise the power by making the gas cool at one part of the surface faster than at another, and so to make a vortex around that spot, which would set the whole mass to revolving. But no conceivable reason can be alleged why the homogeneous mass should begin to cool at one place faster than another, or indeed why an eternally hot mass should ever begin to cool at all. But, letting that pass, to make the required vortex for the rotation of the whole mass, it should not begin to cool at any part of the surface, but at the center, where, as every engine driver who ever saw a condenser, and every woman who ever cooled a dish of mush knows, it could not possibly begin to cool till the outside mass had become cold; and so no motion could be produced. This is so well known in the machine shops that it is rare to find a machinist own the theory. But even a more fatal objection has been raised by one of the most eloquent expounders of the theory. Mr. Spencer shows us that the mass, condensing under the influence of gravitation, so far from cooling _must necessarily evolve heat_. He is perfectly clear and decided on this matter, _that the condensing mass could never, by any possibility, begin to cool, but must begin to heat, and go on heating till it burst out in a blaze_. He says: "Heat must inevitably be generated by the aggregation of diffused matter into a concrete form; and throughout our reasonings we have assumed that such generation of heat has been an accompaniment of nebular condensation."[202] "While the condensation and the rate of rotation are progressively increasing, the approach of the atoms necessarily generates _a progressively increasing temperature_. As this temperature rises light begins to be evolved, and ultimately there results a revolving sphere of fluid matter radiating intense light and heat--a sun."[203] This, it will be perceived, is exactly the reverse of the original nebular theory of a cooling globe, or spheroid of homogeneous nebular matter, diffused by intense heat, and cooling down into suns, and moons, and planets. So far as the Spencer system is accepted, it displaces La Place's theory, and the inventor accordingly works out a new theory of his own, and equally inconsistent with known facts and principles. But as Mr. Spencer candidly owns that his scheme can neither generate matter nor force, as we have already seen, it needs no further discussion in this connection. The fact is simply this, a chemical perpetual motion is as impossible as a mechanical one. The discovery of the convertibility of forces shows this. The development theory of the generation of motion by processes of the self-heating or the self-cooling of the machine, or by chemical actions and reactions, is, in its last analysis, only a big perpetual motion humbug. Even were the rotation, and the cooling process, to take place, as is supposed, _no such results would proceed from these combined operations as the case requires_; for, according to the theory, as the cooling and contracting rings revolve in the verge of a vortex of fluid less dense than themselves, one of these two results must take place: either, as is most probable, from their exceeding tenuity, the rings will break at once into fragments, when, instead of flying outward, they will sink toward the center, and, as long as they are heavier than the surrounding fluid, _they will stay there_; and, as the cooling goes on on the outside, so will the concentration of the heavier matter, till we have _one_ great spheroid, with a solid center, liquid covering, and gaseous atmosphere. A vortex will never make, nor allow to exist beyond its center, planets heavier than the fluid of which it is composed. The other alternative, and the one which La Place selected, was the supposition that the cooling and contracting rings did not at first break up into pieces, but retained their continuity; but, contrary to all experience and reason, he supposed that these cooling rings kept contracting and widening out from the heated mass, at the same time. The only fluid planetary rings which we can examine--those of Saturn--have been closing in on the planet since the days of Huygens, and eventually will be united with the body of the planet. Every boy who has seen a blacksmith hoop a cart-wheel has learned the principle, that a heated ring contracts as it cools, and in doing so presses in upon the mass around which it clings. But, according to this nebular notion, the fire-mist keeps cooling and shrinking up, while the rings, of the very same heat and material, keep cooling faster, and widening out from it; a piece of schismatical behavior without a parallel among solids or fluids, either in heaven or earth, or under the earth. Plateau's illustration of the mode in which centrifugal force acts in overcoming molecular attraction, has been cited as a demonstration of the truth of the nebular hypothesis. The conditions, however, are entirely different. By means of clock-work he caused a globule of oil to rotate in a mixture of alcohol and water _of the same density_, thus entirely getting rid of the power of gravitation; and by increasing the velocity he caused it to flatten out into a disc, and finally to project a multitude of minute drops, which continued their revolutions so long as the fluid in which they floated kept revolving by the motion of the rotating spindle, _the divergent drops, the central mass, and the surrounding fluid, being all the while of the same density_. But the essential conditions of the nebular theory are, that _the central mass_ exert an attraction of gravitation upon all its parts, and _therefore be denser than the surrounding ether or empty space_, and that _the cooling and contracting rings be of a different density from the rest of the mass_. Their divergence from the more fluid portion is supposed to arise from their growing denser. And Reclus shows[204] that the divergent drops owe their existence to the _expansion_, not to the _contraction_, of the globule of oil. This experiment, then, contradicts the theory, so far as it is applicable. Plateau himself never adduced this experiment in support of the nebular theory; but having, by way of illustration, spoken of the revolving drops as satellites, and finding that expression misunderstood, he corrected the error in a subsequent paper. He says: "It is clear that this mode of formation is entirely foreign to La Place's cosmogonic hypothesis; therefore we have no idea of deducing from this little experiment, which only refers _to the effects of molecular attraction_, and _not to those of gravitation_, any argument in favor of the hypothesis in question; an hypothesis which _in other respects we do not adopt_."[205] _It was always contrary to the facts of astronomical science._ It has accordingly been repudiated by the most eminent astronomers. Sir John Herschel declares that the appearance of those groups, or clusters, of stars, supposed to be formed by the condensation of nebulæ is quite different from that depicted by this theory, and that no traces of the ring-making process is visible among them. He thus describes the appearances of these groups; exactly the contrary of that demanded by the theory, which he emphatically disclaims, from the presidential chair of the British Association for the Advancement of Science. "If it is to be regarded as demonstrated truth, or as receiving the smallest support from any observed numerical relations which actually hold good among the elements of the primary orbits, I beg leave to demur. Assuredly it receives no support from the observation of the effects of sidereal aggregation as exemplified in the formation of globular and elliptic clusters, supposing them to have resulted from such aggregation. For we see this cause working out in thousands of instances, to have resulted, _not_ in the formation of a single large central body, surrounded by a few smaller attendants disposed in one plane around it, but in systems of infinitely greater complexity, consisting of multitudes of nearly equal luminaries, grouped together in a solid elliptic or globular form. So far then as any conclusions from our observations of nebulæ can go, the result of agglomerative tendencies _may_ indeed be the formation of families of stars of a general and very striking character, but we see nothing to lead us to presume its further result to be the surrounding of those stars with planetary adherents."[206] _This theory is contradicted by the peculiarities of our solar system._ The orbits of the comets being inclined at all angles to the sun's equator, are often out of the plane of his rotation, and so in the way of the theory. The moons of Uranus revolve in a direction contrary to all the other bodies, and fly right into the face of the theory. According to the nebular theory, the outer planets, first cast off from the sun, ought to be lighter than those nearer him, as these had longer pressing near the middle of the mass; and the sun himself, having been pressed by the weight of all the rest of the system, should be the densest body of the whole. And the author of _The Vestiges of Creation_, in expounding the theory, manufactures a set of facts to suit it, and tells his readers that the planets exhibit a progressive diminution in density from the one nearest the sun to that which is most distant. Our solar system could not have lasted thirty years had that been the case. The Earth, Venus, and Mars, are nearly of the same density. Uranus is more dense than Saturn, which is nearer the sun. Neptune is more dense than either. The sun, which ought to be the heaviest of all, according to the theory, is only one-fourth the density of the earth. La Place himself has demonstrated that these densities and arrangements are indispensable to the stability of the system. But they are plainly contradictory to his theory of its formation.[207] The palpable difference of luminosity between the sun and the planets, which, as they are all made of the very same materials, and by the same process, according to this theory, ought to be equally self-luminous, is in itself a self-evident refutation of the nebular hypothesis, or of any other process of creation by mere mechanical law. "The same power, whether natural or supernatural, which placed the sun in the center of the six primary planets, placed Saturn in the center of the orb of his five secondary planets; and Jupiter in the center of his four secondary planets; and the earth in the center of the moon's orbit; and, therefore, had this cause been a blind one, _without contrivance or design_, the sun would have been a body of the same kind with Saturn, Jupiter, and the Earth; that is, _without light or heat_. Why there is one body in our system qualified to give light and heat to all the rest, I know no reason, but because the Author of the system thought it convenient." So says the immortal Newton.[208] The great expounder of modern science--Humboldt--is equally explicit in enumerating the decisive marks of choice and will in the construction of the solar system, and in contemptuously dismissing the notion of development and creation by natural law from the halls of science. "Up to the present time, _we are ignorant, as I have already remarked, of any internal necessity--any mechanical law of nature_--which (like the beautiful law which connects the square of the periods of revolution with the cube of the major axis) represents the above-named elements--the absolute magnitude of the planets, their density, flattening at the poles, velocity of rotation, and presence or absence of moons--of the order of succession of the individual planetary bodies of each group, in their dependence upon the distances. Although the planet which is nearest the sun is densest--even six or eight times denser than some of the exterior planets: Jupiter, Saturn, Uranus, and Neptune--the order of succession in the case of Venus, the Earth, and Mars, is very irregular. The absolute magnitudes do, generally, as Kepler has already observed, increase with the distances; but this does not hold good when the planets are considered individually. Mars is smaller than the Earth; Uranus smaller than Saturn; Saturn smaller than Jupiter, and succeeds immediately to a host of planets, which, on account of their smallness, are almost immeasurable. It is true, the period of rotation generally increases with the distance from the sun; but it is in the case of Mars slower than in that of the Earth, and slower in Saturn than in Jupiter."[209] "_Our knowledge of the primeval ages of the world's physical history does not extend sufficiently far to allow of our depicting the present condition of things as one of development._"[210] Sir David Brewster adds his testimony as follows: "Geology does not pretend to give us any information respecting the process by which the nucleus of the earth was formed. Some speculative astronomers indeed have presumptuously embarked in such an inquiry; but there is not a trace of evidence that the solid nucleus of the globe was formed by secondary causes, such as the aggregation of attenuated matter diffused through space; and the _nebular theory_, as it has been called, though maintained by a few distinguished names, has, we think, been overturned by arguments which have never been answered. Sir Isaac Newton, in his four celebrated letters to Dr. Bentley, has demonstrated that the planets of the solar system could not have been thus formed and put in motion round a central sun."[211] 4. _Astronomy not only exposes the folly of past cosmogonies, but demonstrates the impossibility of framing any true theory of creation, and thus refutes all future cosmogonies._ The grand error of all cosmogonies lies in the arrogant assumption, on which every one of them must be founded, _that the theorist is acquainted with all substances, and all forces in the universe_, and with all the modes of their operation; not only at the present period, and on this earth, but in all past ages, and in worlds in widely different, and utterly unknown situations; for, if he be ignorant of any substance, or of any active force in the universe, his generalization is avowedly imperfect, and necessarily erroneous. That unknown force must have had its influence in framing the world. Its omission, then, is fatal to the theory which neglects it. A theory of creation, for instance, which would neglect the attraction of gravitation would be manifestly false. But there are other forces as far reaching, whose omission must be equally fatal; for instance, the power of repulsion. A conviction of this truth has given rise to a constant effort to simplify matters down to the level of our ignorance, by reducing all substances to one, or at most two simple elements, and all forces to the form of one universal law; but the progress of science utterly blasts the attempt. Instead of simplifying matters, the very chemical processes undertaken with that view revealed new substances, and every year increases our knowledge of nature's variety. No scientific man now dreams of one primeval element. In the same way, astronomy, which, it was boasted, would enable us to account for all the operations of the universe, by reducing all motion to one mechanical law, has revealed to us the existence of other forces as far reaching as the attraction of gravitation, and more powerful; and substances whose nature and combinations are utterly unknown. But every cosmogony is just an attempt to simplify matters, by ignoring the existence of these unknown substances, and mysterious forces; a process which science condemns, as utterly unphilosophical and absurd. Astronomy has shown us _our ignorance of the substances_, or _materials_, _of our own little globe_. It has demonstrated that the whole body of the earth must have an average density equal to iron. As the rocks near the surface are much lighter, those toward the center must be heavier than iron, to make up this density. Of what, then, do they consist? The geologist says he does not know. No geologist ever saw them. No mortal ever will see them, and report their chemical constitution, their dip, and the arrangement of their strata, to the American Association for the Advancement of Science. The very utmost "we can say is that they are unlike anything with which we are acquainted." Very well; then be pleased to have the decency to abstain from telling us how the world was made, when you don't know what it is made of. The sun's heat, at its surface, is 300,000 times greater than at the surface of the earth, but a tenth of this amount, collected in the focus of a lens, dissipates gold and platinum in vapor. When the most vivid flames which we can produce are held up in the blaze of his rays, they disappear. If a cataract of icebergs, a mile high, and wider than the Atlantic Ocean, were launched into the sun with the velocity of a cannon-ball, the small portion of the sun's heat expended on our earth would convert that vast mass into steam as fast as it entered his atmosphere without cooling its surface in the least degree. "The great mystery, however, is to conceive how so enormous a conflagration (if such it be) can be kept up. Every discovery in chemical science here leaves us completely at a loss, or rather seems to remove farther the prospect of probable explanation."[212] Yet, the sun is the nearest of the fixed stars, and by far the best known, and most nearly related to us. In fact, we are dependent on his influences for life and health. But if the theorist _can not tell his substance, or the nature and cause of the light and heat he sends us_, how can he presume so far on the world's credulity as to present a theory of his formation? "Astronomical problems accumulate unsolved upon our hands, because we can not, as mechanicians, chemists, or physiologists, experiment on the stars. Are they built of the same material as our planet? Are Saturn's rings solid, or liquid? Has the moon an atmosphere? Are the atmospheres of the planets like ours? Are the light and heat of the sun begotten of combustion? And what is the fuel which feeds these unquenchable fires? These are questions, which we ask, and variously answer, _but leave unanswered after all_."[213] But, till he can answer these, and a thousand questions like these, let no man presume to describe the formation of these unknown orbs. Comets constitute by far the greatest number of the bodies of our solar system. Arago says seven millions frequent it, within the orbit of Uranus.[214] They are the largest bodies known to us, stretching across hundreds of millions of miles. They approach nearer to this earth than any other bodies, sometimes even involving it in their tails, and generally exciting great alarm among its inhabitants. But the nature of the transparent luminous matter of which they are composed is utterly unknown. As they approach the sun, they come under an influence directly the opposite of attraction. The tail streams away from the sun, over a distance of millions of miles, _and yet the rate of the comet's motion toward the sun is quickened_, as though it were an immense rocket, driven forward by its own explosion. Further, while the body of the comet travels toward the sun, sometimes with a velocity nearly one-third of that of light, the tail sends forth coruscations in the opposite direction, with a much greater velocity. The greatest velocity with which we are acquainted on earth is the velocity of light, which travels a million of times faster than a cannon-ball, or at the rate of 195,000 miles per second; but here is a substance capable of traveling twenty-three times faster, and here is a force propelling it, twenty-three times greater than any which exists on earth. Its existence was first discovered by the coruscations of the comet of 1807. "In less than one second, streamers shot forth, to two and a half degrees in length; they as rapidly disappeared, and issued out again, sometimes in proportions, and interrupted, like our northern lights. Afterward the tail varied, both in length and breadth; and in some of the observations, the streamers shot forth from the whole expanded end of the tail, sometimes here, sometimes there, in an instant, two and a half degrees long; _so that within a single second they must have shot out a distance of 4,600,000 miles_."[215] Similar exhibitions of this unknown force were made by the comet of 1811, by Halley's comet, and several others. In these amazing disclosures of the unknown forces of the heavens, do we not hear a voice rebuking the presumption of ignorant theorists, with the questions, Knowest _thou_ the ordinances of heaven? Canst _thou_ set the dominion thereof in the earth? Hear one of the most distinguished of modern astronomers expound the moral bearings of such a discovery: "The intimation of a new cosmical power--I mean of one so unsuspected before, but which yet can follow a planet through all its wanderings--throws us back once more into the indefinite obscure, and checks all dogmatism. How many influences, hitherto undiscovered by our ruder senses, may be ever streaming toward us, and modifying every terrestrial action. And yet, because we had traced one of these, we have deemed our astronomy complete! Deeper far, and nearer to the root of things, is that world with which man's destiny is entwined."[216] We can have no reason, save our own self-sufficient arrogance, to believe that the discovery of these two forces exhausts the treasures of infinite wisdom. Humboldt thus well refutes the folly of such an imagination: "The imperfectibility of all empirical science, and the boundlessness of the sphere of observation, render the task of explaining the forces of matter by that which is variable in matter, an impracticable one. What has been already perceived, by no means exhausts that which is perceptible. If, simply referring to the progress of science in our own times, we compare the imperfect physical knowledge of Robert Boyle, Gilbert, and Hales, with that of the present day, and remember that every few years are characterized by an increasing rapidity of advance, we shall be better able to imagine _the periodical and endless changes which all physical sciences are destined to undergo. New substances and new forces will be discovered._"[217] Thus, all true science, conscious of its ignorance, ever leads the mind to the region of faith. Its first lesson, and its last lesson, is humility. It tells us that every cosmogony, which the children of theory so laboriously scratch in the sand, must be swept away by the rising tide of science. When we seek information on the great questions of our origin and destiny, and cry, "Where shall wisdom be found, and what is the place of understanding?" The high priests of science answer, in her name, "It is not in me; the measure thereof is longer than the earth, and broader than the sea." We receive this honest acknowledgment as an inestimable boon. We are saved thereby the wearying labor of a vain and useless search after knowledge which lies not in her domain. We come down to the Bible with the profound conviction that science can give us no definite information of our origin, no certainty of our destiny, and but an imperfect acquaintance with the laws which govern this present world. If the Bible can not inform us on these all-important questions, we must remain ignorant. Science declares she can not teach us. The Word of God remains, not merely the best, but absolutely the only, the last resource of the anxious soul. The Bible gives us no theory of creation. It simply asserts the fact, that "In the beginning God created the heaven and the earth," but does not tell us _how_ he did so. The knowledge could be of no use to us, for he never means to employ us as his assistants in the work of creation. Nor could we understand the matter. The force by which he called the worlds into being, and upholds them in it, exists in no creature. "He stretcheth forth the heavens alone. He spreadeth abroad the earth by himself." "He upholdeth all things by the word of his power." But it presents anxious, careworn, humbled souls with something infinitely more precious than cosmogonies; even an explicit declaration of the love toward them of him who made these worlds. "Thus saith the Lord, THY REDEEMER, And he who formed thee from the womb: I am the Lord, who maketh all things; Who stretcheth forth the heavens alone, And spreadeth abroad the earth, by myself." "He healeth the broken in heart, And bindeth up their wounds. He telleth the number of the stars, And calleth them all by their names. Great is our Lord, and of great power; His wisdom is infinite!" Yes, the Creator of heaven and earth, who upholds all things by the word of his power, became a man like you, and dwelt on earth, and suffered the sorrow, the shame, the pain, the death, that sinful man deserved; and when he had by himself purged our sins, sat down at the right hand of the Majesty on high. From that heavenly throne his voice now sounds, reader, in your ear, "Come unto me, all ye that labor and are heavy-laden, and _I will give you rest_." FOOTNOTES: [186] Cosmos III. 138. [187] Herschel's Outlines, chap. xvii. sec. 887. [188] Cosmos III. 197. [189] Nichol's Architecture of the Heavens, 9th ed. p. 180. [190] Cosmos IV. 292. [191] Nichol's Contemplations on the Solar System, xxx. [192] Cosmos III. 253. [193] Herschel's Outlines of Astronomy, chap. xvi. [194] _New York Evangelist_, May 5, 1870. [195] Nichol's Architecture of the Heavens, 9th edition, 272. [196] Pontecoulant in _System of the World_, p. 70. [197] Progress of Astronomy, 70. [198] Memoirs of the French Academy, by M. Le Verrier; from _The Annual of Scientific Discovery_, for 1855, p. 376. [199] Herschel's Outlines of Astronomy, p. 558, ed. of 1853. [200] Illustrations of Universal Progress, page 298. [201] Fragments of Science and Scientific Thought, p. 163. [202] Illustrations of Progress, page 292. [203] Illustrations of Progress, page 34. [204] The Earth, page 256. [205] Taylor's Scientific Memoirs, Vol. V., cited in McCosh's Typical Forms and Special Ends in Creation, p. 403. [206] Opening Address to the British Association, 1845. [207] Taking water as the unit of density, Mercury is 6.71; Venus, 5.11; Earth, 5.44; Mars, 5.21; Saturn, 0.76; Uranus, 0.97; Neptune, 1.25; the Sun, 1.37.--Cosmos IV. p. 447. [208] Newton's Optics, IV. p. 438. [209] Cosmos, IV. p. 425. [210] Cosmos, III. p. 28. [211] More Worlds Than One, p. 45. [212] Herschel's Outlines, VI. Sect. 400. [213] Dr. George Wilson, F. R. S. E., in Edinburgh Phil. Journal, V. p. 53. [214] Somerville's Connection of the Physical Sciences, p. 360. [215] Dick's Sidereal Heavens, chap. xx. [216] Nichol's Solar System, p. 76. [217] Cosmos, III. p. 27. CHAPTER XI. DAYLIGHT BEFORE SUNRISE. In the last chapter we saw astronomy demonstrating our need of a revelation from God. In this we shall see how it illustrates and confirms that revelation. Seen through the telescope, the Bible glows with celestial splendor. Even its cloudy mysteries are displayed as clouds of light, and its long misunderstood phrases are resolved, by a scientific investigation, into galaxies of brilliant truths, proclaiming to the philosopher that the Book which describes them is as truly the Word of God as the heavens which it describes are his handiwork. If, once in a century, a profound practical astronomer is found denying the inspiration of the Bible, he will either acknowledge, or discover himself, not familiar with its contents. For the most part, the charges brought against the Bible, of contradicting the facts of astronomy, are based upon misstatements and mistakes of its teachings, and so do not fall within the range of the telescope, or the department of the observatory. The Sabbath-school teacher, and not the astronomer, is the proper person to correct such errors. A few months' instruction in the Bible class of any well-conducted Sabbath-school would save some of our popular anti-Bible lecturers from the sin of misrepresenting the Word of God, and the shame of hearing children laugh at their blunders. A favorite field for the display of their knowledge of science, and ignorance of the art of reading, by our modern Infidels, is the Bible account of creation, in the first chapter of Genesis, which is alleged to be utterly irreconcilable with the known facts of astronomy and geology. Leaving the latter out of view, for the present, the astronomical objections may all be arranged under four heads. First: that the Bible account of the creation of man, only some six or seven thousand years ago, must be false; because the records of astronomical observations, taken more than seventeen thousand years ago, by the Hindoos and Egyptians, are still in existence, and have been verified. Second: that the light of some of the stars, now shining upon us, and especially of some of the distant nebulæ, must have left them millions of years ago, to have traveled over the vast space which separates them from us, and be visible on our globe now; whereas, the Bible teaches that the universe was created only some six or seven thousand years ago. Third: that the Bible represents God as creating the sky a solid crystal, or metallic sphere, or hemisphere (they are not agreed which), to which the stars are fastened, and with which they revolve around the earth; which every school-boy knows to be absurd. Fourth: that the Bible represents God as creating the sun and moon only two days before Adam, and as creating light before the sun, which is also held to be absurd. 1. The first of these objections--that the Hindoos and Egyptians made astronomical observations thousands of years before Adam, and that the accuracy of these observations has been verified by modern calculations--_is simply untrue_. No such observations were ever made. The pretended records of such have been proved, in the case of the Hindoo astronomy, to be forgeries, and in the case of the Egyptian records, blunders of the discoverers. There is not an authentic uninspired astronomical observation extant for two thousand years after Adam. The objection, however, is worth noticing, and its history worth remembering, as a specimen of the way in which ignorant men swallow impudent falsehoods, if they only seem to contradict the Word of Truth. When the labors of oriental scholars had made the Vedas and Shasters--the sacred books of the Hindoos--accessible to European philosophers, a wonderful shout was raised among Infidels. "Here," it was said, "is the true chronology. We always knew that man was not a degenerate creature, fallen from a higher estate, some few thousand years ago, but that he has existed from eternity, in a constant progress toward his present lofty position; and now we have the most authentic records of the most ancient and civilized people in the world--the people of India--reaching back for millions of years before the Mosaic cosmogony, and allowing ample time for the development of the noble savage into the cultivated philosopher. These records have every mark of truth, giving minute details of events, and histories of successive lines of princes; and, moreover, record the principal astronomical facts of the successive periods--eclipses, comets, positions of stars, etc.--which attest their veracity. Henceforth, the Hebrew records must hide their heads. Neither as poetry nor history can they pretend to compare with the Vedas." The Hindoo Shasters were accordingly, for a time, in high repute, among people who knew very little about them. Even Dr. Adam Clarke was so far led away with the spirit of the age, as to pollute his valuable commentary by the insertion of the _Gitagovinda_, after the Chaldee Targum on the Song of Solomon; where the curious reader can satisfy himself as to the scientific value of such Pantheistic dotings. By the Infidels of Britain and America they were appealed to as standard works of undoubted authority; and hundreds, who declared that it was irrational credulity to believe in the Bible, risked their souls on the faith of the Vedas, _of which they never had read a single sentence_! Now, when we remember that these veracious chronicles reach back through _maha yugs_ of 4,320,000 years of mortals, a thousand of which, or 4,320,000,000, make a _kalpa_ or one day of the life of Brahma, while his night is of the same duration, and his life consists of a hundred years of such days and nights, about the middle of which period the little span of our existence is placed; that among the facts of the history are the records of the seven great continents of the world, separated by seven rivers, and seven chains of mountains, four hundred thousand miles high (reaching only to the moon); of the families of their kings, one of whom had a hundred sons, another only ten thousand, another sixty thousand, who were born in a pumpkin, nourished in pans of milk, reduced to ashes by the curse of a sage, and restored to life by the waters of the Ganges; and that among the astronomical observations, by which the accuracy of these extraordinary facts is confirmed, are accounts of deluges, in which the waters not only rose above the tops of earth's mountains, but above the seven inferior and three superior worlds, _reaching even to the Pole Star_[218]--we may well wonder at the faith which could receive all this as so true, that on the strength of it they rejected the miracles of the Bible as false. Even Voltaire ridiculed these stories. But a visionary man, named Baillie, calculated the alleged observations backward, and found them sufficiently correct to satisfy him that all the rest of the story was equally true. It never seems to have occurred to him, that if he could calculate eclipses _backward_, so could the Hindoos. It is just as easy to calculate an eclipse, or the position of a planet, backward as forward. If I watch the motion of the hands of a clock accurately, and find that the little hand moves over the twelfth of a circle every hour, and the large hand around the circle in the same time, and that the large hand, now at noon, covers the little one, I can calculate, that at sixteen minutes and a quarter past three it will nearly cover it again; but then, it is just as easy to count that the two hands were covered at sixteen minutes and a quarter before nine that morning, or that they were exactly in line at 6 A. M. If my clock would keep going at the same rate for a thousand years, I could predict the position of the hands at any hour of the twenty-ninth of March, of the year 2857; but it is evident that the very same calculation applied the other way would show the position that the hands would have had a thousand years ago, or five thousand years ago, just as well. And if I were to allege that my clock was made by Tubal Cain, before the flood, and for proof of the fact declare, that on the first of January, 3857 B. C., at 6 o'clock P. M., I had seen the two hands directly in line, and some wiseacre were to calculate the time, and find that at that hour the hands ought to have been just in that position, and conclude thence that I was undoubtedly one of the antediluvians, and the clock no less certainly a specimen of the craft of the first artificer in brass and iron, the argument would be precisely parallel to the Infidel's argument from the Tirvalore Tables, and the astronomy of the Vedas. But suppose my clock ran a little slow; say half a minute in the month, or so; or that it was made to keep sidereal time, which differs by a little from solar time, and that I did not know exactly what the difference was; it is evident that on a long stretch of some hundreds or thousands of years, I would get out of my reckoning, and the hands would not have been in the positions I had calculated. Now, this was just what happened with the Brahmins and their calculations. The clock of the heavens keeps a uniform rate of going, but they made a slight mistake in the counting of it; and so did their Infidel friends. But our modern astronomers have got the true time, set their clocks, and made their tables by it; and on applying these tables to the pretended Hindoo observations, find that they are all wrong, and that no such eclipses as they allege ever did occur or possibly could have happened in our solar system.[219] So the Hindoo astronomy is now consigned to the same tomb with the Hindoo chronology and cosmogony, except when a missionary, on the banks of the Ganges, exhibits it to the pupils of his English school, as a specimen of the falsehoods which have formed the swaddling bands of Pantheism. Failing in the attempt to substitute Brahminism for Christianity, Infidels beat a retreat from India, and went down into Egypt for help. Here they made prodigious discoveries of the scientific and religious truths believed by the worshipers of dogs and dung beetles, recorded upon the coffins of holy bulls, and the temples sacred to crows and crocodiles. The age was favorable for such discoveries. Napoleon and his savans cut out of the ceiling of a temple, at Denderah, in Egypt, a stone covered with uncouth astronomical, astrological, and hieroglyphic figures, which they insisted was a representation of the sky at the time the temple was built; and finding a division made between the signs of the crab and the lion, and marks for the sun and moon there, they took it into their heads that the sun must have entered the Zodiac at that spot, on the year this Zodiac was made; and, calculating back, found that must be at least seventeen thousand years ago. Hundreds of thousands visited the wonderful antediluvian monument, in the National Library, in Paris, where it had been brought; and where Infidel commentators were never wanting to inform them that this remarkable stone proved the whole Bible to be a series of lies. A professor of the University of Breslau published a pamphlet, entitled _Invincible Proof that the Earth is at least ten times older than is taught by the Bible_. Scores of such publications followed, and for forty years Infidel newspapers, magazines, and reviews kept trumpeting this great refutation of the Bible. From these it descended to the vulgar, with additions and improvements; and it is now frequently alleged as proving that "ten thousand years before Adam was born, the priests of Egypt were carving astronomy on the pyramids." There is scarcely one of my French or German readers who has not heard of it. It did not shake the Skeptic's credulity in the least that no two of the savans were agreed, by some thousands of years, how old it was--that they could not tell what the Egyptian system of astronomy was--_and that none of them could read the hieroglyphics which explained it_. Whatever might be doubtful, of one thing they were all perfectly sure, that it was far older than the creation. But in 1832 the curious Egyptian astronomy was studied, and it appeared that the sun and moon were so placed on the Zodiac to mark the beginning of the year there; and the dividing line fenced off one half of the sky under the care of the sun, while the other was placed under the moon's patronage. Then it was discovered that the positions of the stars were represented by the pictures of the gods whose names they bore--Jupiter, Saturn, etc.--and by calculating the places of these pictures back, it was found that this Zodiac represented their places in the year of our Lord 37; the year of the birth of Nero, a great temple-builder and repairer. Finally, Champollion learned to read the hieroglyphics, and the names, surnames, and titles of the emperors Tiberius, Claudius, Nero, and Domitian were found on the temple of Denderah; and on the portico of the temple of Esneh, which had been declared to be a few thousand years older than that of Denderah, were found the names of Claudius and Antoninus Pius; while the whole workmanship and style of building have satisfied all antiquarians that these buildings were erected during the declining days of art in the Roman Empire. The Roman title, _autocrat_, engraved on the Zodiac itself, attests its antiquity to be not quite two thousand, instead of seventeen thousand years. But, not satisfied with merely demolishing the batteries of Infidelity, astronomy has been employed to ascertain the dates of numbers of events recorded on Egyptian monuments to have happened to one or other of the Pharaohs, "beloved of Ammon, and brother of the sun," when such a star was in such a position. Mr. Poole has spent years in gathering such inscriptions, and in calculating the dates thus furnished. The astronomer royal, at Greenwich, Mr. Airy, has reviewed the calculations, and finds them correct. Wilkinson, the great Egyptologist, agrees with their conclusions. And the result is, that _the astronomical chronology of the Egyptian monuments sustains the Bible chronology_.[220] Geology comes forward to confirm the testimony of her elder sister, and assures us, that the alleged vast antiquity of the Egyptian monuments is impossible, as it is not more than 5,000 years since the soil of Egypt first appeared above water, as a muddy morass.[221] The learned Adrian Balbo thus sums up the whole question: "No monument, either astronomical or historical, has yet been able to prove the books of Moses false; _but with them, on the contrary, agree, in the most remarkable manner, the results obtained by the most learned philologists and the profoundest geometricians_."[222] 2. To the second objection--that astronomers have discovered stars whose light must have been millions of years traveling to this earth, and that consequently these stars must have existed millions of years ago, and therefore the Bible makes a false declaration when it says the universe was created only some six or seven thousand years ago--I reply by asking, _Where does the Bible say so?_ "What," says our objector, "is not that the good old orthodox doctrine of Christians and commentators? Do they not unanimously denounce geologists and astronomers as heretics, for asserting the vast antiquity of the earth?" We shall see presently that no such unanimity of denunciation has ever existed, and that some of the most ancient and learned Christian commentators taught the antiquity of the earth, from the Bible, before geology was born. But that is not the question before us just now. We are not asking what the good old orthodox doctrine of Christians, or the unanimous opinion of commentators may have been; but what is the reading of the Bible--_What does this Book say?_--not, "What does somebody think?" "Well," replies our objector, "does not the Bible say, in the first of Genesis, that God created the heavens and the earth in six days, and Adam on the sixth; and are not chronologists agreed that that was not more than seven thousand years ago, at the very utmost?" If the Bible had said that God created the heavens and the earth in six days, and that the end of that period was only seven thousand years ago, it would by no means follow that the beginning of it was only a few hours before that; for every Bible reader knows, that the most common use of the word _day_, in Scripture, is to denote, not a period of twenty-four hours, but a period of time which may be of various lengths.[223] In this very narrative (Genesis ii. 5) it is used to denote the whole period of the six days' work: "In the day the Lord God made the earth and the heavens." Does it mean just twenty-four hours there? In the first of Genesis, its duration is defined to consist of "the evening and the morning." Before our Infidel chronologist finds out the Bible date of creation, he must be able to tell us _of what length was the evening which preceded the first morning_, and with it constituted the first day? God has of set purpose placed stumbling-blocks for scoffers at the entrance and the exit of the Bible, as a rebuke to pride and vain curiosity.[224] The duration of the seventh day is also hidden from man. It is God's Sabbath, on which he entered when he ceased from the work of creation, a rest which still continues, and which he invites us to enter into (Hebrews iv. 1-5) as a preparation for the eternal rest. God's rest day has already lasted six thousand years, and no man can tell how much longer it may last. Perhaps his working days were each as long. But if our objector had read the Bible attentively, he would have seen that it _does not say that God created the heavens and the earth in six days_. Before it begins to give any account of the six days' work, it tells us of a previous state of disorder; and going back beyond that again, it says: "_In the beginning_, God created the heavens and the earth." It is as self-evident that this _beginning_ was before the six days' work, as that the world must have existed before it could be adjusted to its present form. How long before, the Bible does not say, nor does the objector pretend to know. It may have been as many millions of years as he assigns to the stars, or twice as many, for anything he knows to the contrary. He must have overlooked the first two verses of the Bible, else he had never made this objection; which is simply a blunder, arising from incapacity to read a few verses of Scripture correctly. But it is replied, "Does not the Bible say, in the fourth commandment, 'In six days the Lord made heaven, and earth, and the sea, and all that in them is,'" etc.? True. But we are speaking just now of a very different work--the work of _creation_. If any one does not know the difference between _create_ and _make_, let him turn to his dictionary, and Webster will inform him that the primary literal meaning of _create_ is, "To produce; to bring into being from nothing; to cause to exist." The example he gives to illustrate his definition is this verse, "In the beginning God _created_ the heavens and the earth." But the primary meaning of _make_ is, "To compel; to constrain;" thence, "to form of materials;" and he illustrates the generic difference between these two words by a quotation from Dwight: "God not only _made_, but _created_; he not only made the work, but the materials." Both words are as good translations of the Hebrew originals, _bra_, and _oshe_, as can be given. If any of my readers has not a dictionary he can satisfy himself thoroughly as to the different meanings of these two words, and of their equivalents in the original Hebrew, by looking at their use in his Bible. Thus, he will find _create_ applied to the creation of the heavens and the earth, in the beginning, when there could have been no pre-existent materials to make them from; unless we adopt the Atheistic absurdity, of the eternity of matter--that is to say, _that the paving stones made themselves_.[225] Then it is applied to the production of animal life--verse twenty-one--which is not a product or combination of any lifeless matter, but a direct and constant resistance to the chemical and mechanical laws which govern lifeless matter: "God created great whales, and every living creature that moveth."[226] Next it is applied to the production of the human race, as a species distinct from all other living creatures, and not derived from any of them. "God _created_ man in his own image."[227] It is in like manner applied to all God's subsequent bestowals of animal life and rational souls, which are directly bestowed by God, and are not in the power of any creature to give. "Thou sendest forth thy spirit: they are _created_." "Remember now thy _Creator_, in the days of thy youth."[228] In all these instances, the use of the word determines its literal meaning to be what Webster defines it: "To bring into being from nothing." The metaphorical use of the word is equally expressive of its literal meaning, for it is applied to the production of new dispositions of mind and soul utterly opposite to those previously existing. "Create in me a clean heart;" which God thus explains: "A new heart will I give you, and a new spirit will I put within you; and I will take away the stony heart out of your flesh, and I will give you an heart of flesh."[229] The Hebrew word _bra_ has as many derivative meanings as our English word _create_; as we speak of "creating a peer," "long abstinence creating uneasiness," etc.; but these no more change the primitive idea in the one case than in the other. From this word _create_, the Bible very plainly distinguishes the words _make_ and _form_, using them as the complement of the former, in many passages which speak of both creation and making. Thus, man was both created and made. His life and soul are spoken of as a creation; his body as a formation from the dust; his deputed authority over the earth also implies a primal creation, and subsequent investiture; and so both terms are applied to it. So the words _make_ and _form_ are applied to the production of the bodies of animals from pre-existing materials, while animal life is ever spoken of as a product of creative power. But, that we may see that these processes are distinct, and that the words which express them have distinctive meanings, _the Author of the Bible takes care to use them both_ in reference to this very work, in such a way that we can not fail to perceive he intends some distinction, unless we suppose that he fills the Bible with useless tautologies. For instance, "On the seventh day, God rested from all his work, which God _created_ and _made_." "These are the generations of the heavens and the earth, when they were _created_; in the day the Lord God _made_ the earth and the heavens." "But now thus saith the Lord that _created_ thee, Jacob, and he that _formed_ thee, O Israel." "For thus saith the Lord that _created_ the heavens, God himself, that _formed_ the earth, and _made_ it; he hath established it; he _created_ it not in confusion; he _formed_ it to be inhabited."[230] In all these passages _creation_ is clearly distinguished from _formation_ and _making_, if the Bible is not a mass of senseless repetitions. If _create_, and _make_, and _form_, have all the same meaning, why use them all in the same verse? These, and many similar passages, show that the Bible teaches the work of _creation_--calling things into being--to be previous to and distinct from the work of _making_--forming of materials already created. Between these two widely different processes--of the original creation of the universe, and the subsequent preparation of the habitable earth, by the six days' work--two intervening periods are indicated by Scripture, both of indefinite length. The first of these is that which intervened between the original creation and the period of disorder indicated in the second verse. The second is that disordered period during which the earth continued without form and void. That original chaos which some would find in the second verse, never had any existence, save in the brains of Atheistic philosophers. It is purely absurd. God never created a chaos. Man never saw it. The crystals of the smallest grain of sand, the sporules of the humblest fungus on the rotten tree, the animalculæ in the filthiest pool of mud, are as orderly in their arrangements, as perfect after their kind, and as wisely adapted to their station, as the angels before the throne of God. And as man never saw, so he has no language to describe, a state of original disorder; for every word he can use implies a previous state of regularity; as disorder tells of order dissolved; confusion of previous forms melted together. So the poets who have tried to describe a chaos have been obliged to represent it as the wreck of a former state. Both the Bible language and the Bible narrative correspond to the philosophy and philology of the case; for, by the use of the substantive verb, in the past tense, implying progressive being, according to the usual force of the word in Hebrew, we are told literally, "the earth _became_ without form and void." God did not create it so, but after it was created, and by a series of revolutions not recorded, it became disordered and empty. The Holy Spirit takes care to explain this verse, by quoting it in Jeremiah iv. 23, as the appropriate symbolical description of the state of a previously existing and regularly constituted body politic, reduced to confusion by the calamities of war. Again, he explains both the terms used in it in Isaiah xxxiv. 11, by using them to describe, not the rude and undigested mass of the heathen poet, but the wilderness condition of a ravaged country, and the desolate ruins of once beautiful and populous cities: "He will stretch out upon it the line of _confusion_, and the stones of _emptiness_." In both these cases the previous existence of an orderly and populous state is implied. And finally, we are expressly assured, that the state of disorder mentioned in the second verse of Genesis i., was not the original condition of the earth--Isaiah xlv. 18--where the very same word is used as in Genesis i. 2, "He created it not, _teu_, _disordered_, in _confusion_." The period of the earth's previous existence in an orderly state, or that occupied by the revolutions and catastrophes which disordered its surface, is not recorded in Scripture. The second period is that of disorder, which must have been of some duration, more or less, and is plainly implied to have been of considerable length, in the declaration that "the Spirit of the Lord moved"--literally, _was brooding_ (a figure taken from the incubation of fowls)--"upon the face of the waters." But no portion of Scripture gives any intimation of the length of this period. If, then, astronomers and geologists assert that the earth was millions, or hundreds of millions of years in process of preparation for its present state, by a long series of successive destructions and renovations, and gradual formations, _there is not one word in the Bible to contradict that opinion_; but, on the contrary, very many texts which fully and unequivocally imply its truth. But, as the knowledge of the exact age of the earth is by no means necessary to any man's present happiness, or the salvation of his soul, it is nowhere taught in the Bible. God has given us the stars to teach us astronomy, the earth to teach us geology, and the Bible to teach us religion, and neither contradicts the other. This is no new interpretation evoked to meet the necessities of modern science. The Jewish Rabbins, and those of the early Christian Fathers who gave any attention to criticism, are perfectly explicit in recognizing these distinctions. The doctrine of the creation of the world only six or seven thousand years ago is a product of monkish ignorance of the original language of the Bible. But Clement of Alexandria, Chrysostom, and Gregory Nazianzen, after Justin Martyr, teach the existence of an indefinite period between the creation and the formation of all things. Basil and Origen account for the existence of light before the sun, by alleging that the sun existed, but that the chaotic atmosphere prevented his rays from being visible till the first day, and his light till the third.[231] Augustine, in his first homily, represents the first state of the earth, in Genesis i. 1, as bearing the same relation to its finished state, that the seed of a tree does to the trunk, branches, leaves, and fruit. Horsley, Edward King, Jennings, Baxter, and many others, who wrote during the last two centuries, but before the period of geological discovery, explained the second verse substantially as did Bishop Patrick, a hundred and fifty years ago. "How long all things continued in confusion, we are not told. _It might have been, for anything that is here revealed, a very great while._"[232] Some persons, however, have supposed that the chaos of the second verse succeeded immediately to the creation of the first, and that the six days' work in like manner followed that instantaneously, or at least after a very brief interval, because the records of these cycles are connected by the word _and_, which, they think, precludes the idea of any lengthened periods or intervals. But the slightest reflection upon the meaning of the word will show that _and_ can not of itself be any _measure_ of time, its use being to indicate merely _sequence_ and _connection_. When used historically, it always implies an interval of time; for there can be no succession without an interval; but the length of that interval must be determined from the context, or some other source. A very cursory perusal of the Bible, either in English or Hebrew, will show that very often in its brief narratives, the interval indicated by _and_, and its Hebrew originals, is a very long time. The descent of Jacob and his children into Egypt is connected with the record of their deaths, in the very next verse, by this word _and_, which thus includes nearly the lifetime of a generation. That event, again, is connected with a change of dynasty in Egypt, and the oppression and multiplication of the Israelites there, recorded in the next verse, by the same word, _vau_, _and_; while the period over which it reaches was over two hundred years.[233] So in the brief record of the family of Adam, after reciting the birth of Seth, the historian adds, in the next verse, "And to Seth also was born a son, and he called his name Enos;" while the interval thus indicated by the word _and_ was a hundred and five years. The command to build the ark, recorded in the last verse of the sixth chapter of Genesis, is connected with the command to enter into it, in the first verse of the seventh chapter, by this same word _and_, although we know, from the nature of the case, that the interval required for the construction of such a huge vessel must have been considerable; and from the third verse of the sixth chapter, we learn that it was a hundred and twenty years. So the births and deaths of the antediluvians are connected by this same word _and_, throughout the fifth chapter of Genesis; while the interval, as we see from the narrative, was often eight or nine hundred years. The descent of the Holy Spirit upon Christ, to qualify him for judging the world, is connected with the actual discharge of that office, in the destruction of Antichrist by the breath of his mouth, by this word _and_,[234] although the interval has been over eighteen hundred years. If in the records of the generations of mortal men, the word _and_ is customarily employed as a connecting link in the narrations of events separated by an interval of hundreds of years, it is quite consistent with the strictest propriety of language to employ it, with an enlargement proportioned to the duration of the subject of discourse, to connect intervals of millions, in the narrative of the generations of the heavens and the earth. The Bible uniformly attributes the most remote antiquity to the work of creation. So far from supposing man to be even approximately coeval with it, the emphatic reproof of human presumption is couched in the remarkable words, "Where wast thou, when I laid the foundations of the earth?" In majestic contrast with the frail human race, Moses glances at the primeval monuments of God's antiquity, as though by them he could form some faint conceptions even of eternity, and sings, "Before the mountains were brought forth, or ever thou hadst formed the earth and the universe, even from everlasting to everlasting thou art God."[235] The very word here used, _the beginning_, is in itself an emphatic refutation of the notion that the work of creation is only some six or seven thousand years old. Geologists have been unable to invent a better, and have borrowed from the Bible this very form of speech, to designate those strata beyond which human knowledge can not penetrate--_the primary formations_. But, with far greater propriety, the Holy Spirit uses this word with regard to ages, compared with which the utmost range of the astronomer's or geologist's reasonings is but as the tale of yesterday. For this word, in Bible usage, marks the last promontory on the boundless ocean of eternity; the only positive word by which we can express the most remote period of past duration. It is not a date--a point of duration. It is a period--a vast cycle. It has but one boundary; that where creation rises from its abyss. Created eye has never seen the other shore. It is that vast period which the Bible assigns to the manifestations of the Word of God, "whose goings forth have been of old, from everlasting." Carrying our astonished gaze far back beyond the era of his creature, man, and ages before the "all things" that were made by Him, the Bible places this _beginning_ on the very shore of the eternity of God, when it declares, "_In the beginning_ was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God."[236] Thus, both by the use of the imperfect tense, _was_, denoting continued existence, and by the connection of this _beginning_ with the eternity of the Word, does the Bible teach us to dismiss from our thoughts all narrow views of the period of duration employed in manifesting the glory of the self-existent Eternal One, and to raise our conceptions to the highest possible pitch, and then to feel, that far beyond the grasp of human calculation lies that _beginning_ which includes the years of the right hand of the Most High, and is even used as one of the names of the Eternal: "I AM THE BEGINNING _and the Ending, saith the Lord, who is, and who was, and who is to come_--THE ALMIGHTY."[237] In another Bible exhibition of the eternity of the Son of God, we are conducted from that _beginning_, downward, stage by stage, from those periods of remote antiquity prior to the formation of water, the upheaval of the mountains, the alluvial deposits, the subsidence of the existing sea basins, and the adornment of the habitable parts of the earth, to that comparatively recent event, the existence of the sons of men. Our ideas of the eternity of the love of Christ are thus enhanced, by the vastness of the ages which stretch out between the human race and that beginning when He was, as it were, "The Lamb slain from before the foundations of the world." "The Lord possessed me _in the beginning of his way_, _Before his works of old_. I was set up from everlasting, _From the beginning, or ever the earth was_. When there were no depths, I was brought forth; When there were no fountains, abounding with water; Before the mountains were settled, Before the hills, was I brought forth; While as yet he had not made the earth, nor the fields, Nor the highest part of the dust of the world When he prepared the heavens, I was there; When he described a circle upon the face of the deep; When he established the clouds above; When he strengthened the fountains of the deep; When he gave to the sea his decree, That the waters should not pass his commandment; When he appointed the foundations of the earth: Then was I by him, as one brought up with him; And I was daily his delight, rejoicing always before him: Rejoicing in the habitable parts of his earth; And my delights were with the sons of men."[238] Let the geologist, then, penetrate as deeply as he can into the profundities of the foundations of the earth, and bring forth the monuments of their hoary antiquities: we will follow with the most unfaltering faith, and receive with joy these proofs of his eternal power and Godhead. Let the astronomer raise his telescope, and reflect on our astonished eyes the light which flashed from morning stars, on the day of this earth's first existence, or even the rays which began to travel from distant suns, millions of years ere the first morning dawned on our planet: we will place them as jewels in the crown of Him who is the bright and morning star. They shall shed a sacred luster over the pages of the Bible, and give new beauties of illustration to its majestic symbols. But never will geologist penetrate, much less exhaust, the profundity of its mysteries, nor astronomer attain, much less explore, the sublimity of that beginning revealed in its pages; for eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, nor hath it entered into the heart of man to conceive, either the antiquity, or the nature, or the duration of the things which God hath prepared for them that love him. Human science will never be able to reach the Bible era of creation. It is placed in an antiquity beyond the power of human calculation, in that sublime sentence with which it introduces mortals to the Eternal: "_In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth._" 3. The third objection we have named is equally unfounded. _The Bible nowhere teaches that the sky is a solid sphere, to which the stars are fixed, and which revolves with them around the earth._ I know that Infidels allege that the word _firmament_, in the first chapter of Genesis, conveys this meaning. It does not. Neither the English word, nor the Hebrew original, has any such meaning. As to the meaning of the English word, I adhere to the dictionary. Infidels must not be allowed to coin uncouth meanings for words, different from the known usage of the English tongue, for which Webster is undeniable authority. His definition of _firmament_ is, "The region of the air; the sky, or heavens. In Scripture, the word denotes an expanse--a wide extent; for such is the signification of the Hebrew word, coinciding with _regio_, _region_, and _reach_. The original, therefore, does not convey the sense of solidity, but of stretching--extension. The great arch or expanse over our heads, in which are placed the atmosphere and the clouds, and in which the stars _appear_ to be placed, and are _really_ seen." The word _firmament_, then, conveys no such meaning as the Infidel alleges, to any man who understands the English tongue. No Hebrew speaking man or woman ever did, or ever could understand the original Hebrew word _reqo_ in any other sense than that of _expanse_; for the verb from which it is formed means to extend, or spread out, as even the English reader may see, by a few examples of its use, in the following passages of Scripture; where the English words by which the verb _reqo_ is expressed, are marked in italics. "Then did I beat them small as the dust of the earth, and did stamp them as the mire of the street, and _did spread them abroad_." "The goldsmith _spreadeth it over_ with gold." "Thus saith the Lord: he that created the heavens, and stretched them out; he that _spread forth_ the earth." "I am the Lord, that maketh all things; that stretcheth forth the heavens alone, and _spreadeth abroad_ the earth by myself." "To him that _stretcheth out_ the earth above the waters." "The censers of these sinners against their own souls, let them _make them broad_ plates, for a covering for the altar. _And they were made broad._" "Hast thou with him _spread out_ the sky;"[239] or, in Humboldt's elegant rendering, "the pure ether, _spread_ (during the scorching heat of the south wind) as a melted mirror over the parched desert."[240] We might refer to the opinions of lexicographers, all unanimous in ascribing the same idea to the word; but the authorities given above are conclusive. The meaning, then, of the Hebrew word rendered firmament is so utterly removed from the notion of compactness, or solidity, or metallic or crystalline spheres, that it is derived from the very opposite; the fineness or tenuity produced by processes of expansion. Science has not been able to this day to invent a better word for the regions of space than the literal rendering of the original Hebrew word used by Moses--_the expanse_. The inspired writers of the New Testament, though they found the world full of all the absurdities of the Greek philosophy, and their Greek translations of the Bible continually using the word _stereoma_, which expressed these notions, _never used it_ but once, and then not for the sky, but for the _steadfastness of faith_ in Christ. Their thus using it once shows that they were acquainted with the word, and its proper meaning, and that their disuse of it was intentional; while their disuse of it, and choice of another word to denote the heavens, proves decisively that they disapproved of the absurdity which it was understood to express. Now, whether you account for this fact by admitting their inspiration, or by alleging that they drew their language from the Hebrew original, and not from the Greek translation, it is in either case perfectly conclusive as to the scriptural meaning of the word. Indeed, it is marvelous how any man who is familiar with his Bible, and knows that the Scriptures usually describe the sky by metaphors conveying the very opposite ideas to those of solidity or permanence--as, "stretched out like a curtain," "spread abroad like a tent to dwell in," "folded up like a vesture," and the like--should allow himself to be imposed on by the impudent falsehood of Voltaire, that the Bible teaches us that the sky is a solid metallic or crystal hemisphere, supported by pillars. Those beautiful figures of sacred poetry in which the universe is represented as the palace of the Great King, adorned with majestic "pillars," and "windows of heaven," whence he scatters his gifts among his expectant subjects in the courts below, have been grossly abused for the support of this miserable falsehood. We are assured, that so ignorant was Moses of the true nature of the atmosphere, and of the origin of rain, that he believed and taught that there was an ocean of fresh water on _the outside_ of this metal hemisphere, which covered the earth like a great sugar-kettle, bottom upward, and was supported on pillars; and at the bottom of the ocean were trap-doors, to let the rain through; which trap-doors in the metal firmament are to be understood, when the Bible speaks of the windows of heaven. Now, the bottom of an ocean is an odd place for windows, and a trap-door is rather a strange kind of watering-pot; and if Moses put the ocean of fresh water on the _outside_ of his metal hemisphere, he must have changed his notions of gravity materially from the time he planned the brazen hemisphere for the tabernacle, which he turned mouth upward, and put the water in the _inside_. While such writers are quite clear about the metal trap-doors and the ocean, they have not yet fully fathomed the construction and arrangement of the pillars. Whether the Bible teaches that they are "pillars of salt," like Lot's wife, or of flesh and blood, like "James, Cephas, and John," or such "iron pillars and brazen walls" as Jeremiah was against the house of Israel--whether they consisted of "cloud and fire," like the pillar Moses describes in the next book as floating in the sky over the camp of Israel, or are "pillars of smoke," such as ascend out of the wilderness--whether they are those "pillars of the earth which tremble" when God shakes it, or "the pillars of heaven which are astonished at his reproof"--whether they are the pillars of the earth and its anarchical inhabitants, which Asaph bore up, or are composed of the same materials as Paul's "pillar and basis of the truth," or the pillars of victory which Christ erects "in the temple of God"[241]--they have not yet decided. Whether the Hebrews understood these pillars to be arranged on the outside of the metal hemisphere, and if so, to imagine any use for them there; or in the inside, and in that case whether they kept the sky from falling upon the earth, or only supported the earth from falling into the sky, these learned men are by no means agreed. Having trampled the pearl into fragments, their attempts to combine them into another shape are more amusing than successful; and it is hard to say which of the seven opinions ascribed to the Bible by Infidel commentators is least probable. That opinion, however, will, doubtless, after more vigorous and protracted rooting, be discovered and greedily swallowed amid grunts of satisfaction; an appropriate reward of such laborious stupidity. The absurdities of the Greek philosophers were not drawn from the Bible. Had the Greeks read the Bible more, they would have preserved the common sense God gave them a great deal longer, and would not, while professing themselves to be wise, have become such fools as to adore blocks and stones, and dream of metal firmaments. But they turned away their ears from the truth, and were turned unto such fables as Infidels falsely ascribe to the Bible. A thousand years before the cycles and epicycles of the Ptolemaic astronomy were invented, and before learned Greeks had learned to talk nonsense about crystal spheres, and trap-doors in the bottom of celestial oceans, the writers of the Bible were recording those conversations of pious philosophers concerning stars, and clouds, and rain, from which Galileo derived the first hints of the causes of barometrical phenomena. The origin of rain, its proportion to the amount of evaporation, and the mode of its distribution by condensation, could not be propounded by Humboldt himself with more brevity and perspicuity than they are expressed by the Idumean philosopher: "He maketh small the drops of water; they pour down rain according to the vapor thereof, which the clouds do drop and distill upon man abundantly. Also, can any understand the spreadings of the clouds, or the noise of his tabernacles?"[242] The cause of this rarefaction of _cold water_ is as much a mystery to the British Association as it was to Elihu; and even were all the mysteries of the electrical tension of vapors disclosed, "the balancings of the clouds" would only be more clearly discovered to be, as the Bible declares, "the wonderful works of Him who is perfect in wisdom." But the gravity of the atmosphere, the comparative density of floating water, and its increased density by discharges of electricity, were as well known to Job and his friends as they are to the wisest of our modern philosophers. "He looketh to the ends of the earth, and seeth under the whole heaven, _to make weight to air, and regulate waters by measure, in his making a law for the rain, and a path for the lightning of thunder_."[243] Three thousand years before the theory of the trade winds was demonstrated, or before Maury had discovered the rotation and revolutions of the wind-currents, it was written in the Bible, "The wind goeth toward the south, and turneth about to the north. _And the wind returneth again, according to his circuits._"[244] Thousands of years before Newton, Galileo, and Copernicus were born, Isaiah was writing about the "orbit of the earth," and its insignificance in the eyes of the Creator of the host of heaven.[245] Job was conversing with his friends on the inclination of its axis, and its equilibrium in space: "He spreadeth out the north over the empty space, and hangeth the earth upon nothing."[246] So far from entertaining the least idea of the waters of the atmosphere being contained either on the outside or the inside of a metal or solid hemisphere, the writers of the Bible never once use, even figuratively, any expression conveying it. On the contrary, the well-known scriptural figures for the fountains of the rain, are the soft, elastic, leathern waterskins of the east, "the bottles of the clouds," or the wide, flowing shawl or upper garment wherein the people of the east are accustomed to tie up loose, scattering substances.[247] "He bindeth up the waters in his thick cloud, and the cloud is not rent under them." "Who hath bound the waters in a garment;" "As a vesture thou shalt change them;" or the loose, flowing curtains of a royal pavilion; or the extended covering of a tent: "his pavilion around him were dark waters, and thick clouds of the skies;" "the spreadings of the clouds, and the noise of his tabernacle;" "he spread a cloud for a covering."[248] Instead of the notion of a single ocean, the "number of the clouds" is proverbial in the Scriptures[249] for a multitude; and in direct opposition to the permanence of a vast metallic arch, the chosen emblems of instability and transitoriness, and of the utmost rapidity of motion, suitable even for the chariot of Jehovah, are selected from the heavens.[250] In short, there is not the slightest vestige of any foundation in Scripture for the notions long afterward introduced by the Greek philosophers. Yet Christians, who have read these passages of Scripture over and over again, allow themselves to give heed to Infidels, who have not, asserting, without the shadow of proof, that Moses taught absurdities which were not invented for a thousand years after his death. The Bible gives hints of many profound scientific truths; it teaches no absurdities; _and, instead of countenancing the notion that the sky is a solid metal hemisphere, it teaches, both literally and figuratively, directly the contrary_. 4. We come now to the fourth objection, _that the Bible represents God as creating light before the sun_, which is supposed to be an absurdity, _and as creating the sun, moon, and stars only two days before Adam_. This is the only astronomical objection to the Bible account of creation which has any foundation of Scripture statement to rest upon; but we shall soon see that here, also, Infidels have not done themselves the justice of reading the Bible with attention. I have already corrected that confusion of ideas and carelessness of perusal which confounds the two distinct and different words, _create_ and _make_, so as to make both mean the same thing. God _created_ the heavens, as well as the earth, _in the beginning_; a period of such remote antiquity that, in Bible language, it stands next to eternity. The sun and moon then came into being. Through what changes they passed, or when they were endowed with the power of giving light to the universe, the Bible nowhere declares; but on the fourth day, it tells us, they _were made lights_, or, literally, _light-bearers_, to this earth. The comparatively insignificant place allotted to the stars, in the narrative of this earth's formation, corresponds, with the strictest propriety, to the nature of the discourse; which is not an account of the system of the universe, but of the process of preparation of this earth for the abode of man. Compared with the influences of "the two great light-bearers," those of the stars are very insignificant; since the sun sheds more light and heat on the earth in one day, than all the fixed stars have done since the creation of Adam. It is evident, from the words, that Moses is not speaking either of their original creation, or of their actual magnitude, but of their appointment and use in relation to us, when he says, "And God made two great light-bearers (the greater light-bearer to rule the day, and the lesser light bearer to rule the night), and the stars. And God set them in the firmament of the heavens, to give light upon the earth, and to rule over the day and the night, and to divide the light from the darkness." Neither here nor elsewhere does he say they were _created_ at this time, but in all the subsequent references uses other words, such as "prepared," "divided," "made," "appropriated," "made for ruling," "gave;" a studious omission, which shows that the Author of the Bible had not forgotten how long it was since he had called them into being. _The Bible, then, does not say that God created the sun and stars only two days before Adam._ Another correction of careless Bible reading is necessary, that we may be satisfied about what the Bible _does not say_, ere we begin to defend what it does say. The Bible does not say, nor lead us to believe, that the darkness spoken of in the second verse of the first of Genesis had existed from eternity. Darkness is not eternal; it requires the exercise of creative power for its production. Light is the eternal dwelling of the Word of God.[251] The darkness which brooded over our earth, at the period of its formation, is very plainly described in the Bible as a temporary phenomenon, incident to, and necessary for, the birth of ocean. It is confined by the adverb of time, _when_, to the period of condensation, upheaval, and subsidence, occupied by the birth of that gigantic infant, "_when_ it burst forth as though it had issued from the womb; _when_ I made the cloud a garment for it, and thick darkness a swaddling band for it, and broke up for it my decreed place, and set bars and doors."[252] The sun may have shone for millions of years before upon the earth, or might have been shining with all his brilliance at that very time, while not a single ray penetrated the thick darkness of the vapors in which earth was clothed. But whether or not, darkness must, from its very nature, be limited, both in space and time. To speak of infinite and eternal darkness is as unscriptural as it is absurd. The source of light is Uncreated and Eternal.[253] Further--if my readers are not tired with these perpetual corrections of careless reading and mistaken meaning--the light called into existence in the third verse of the first chapter of Genesis is as evidently a different word from _the two lights_ spoken of in the fourteenth verse, as the singular is different from the plural; and the thing signified by it is as distinct from the things spoken of in the fourteenth verse, as the abstract is from the concrete; as, when I say of the first, "light travels 195,000 miles per second," but mean a totally distinct subject when I say, "Extinguish the lights." The Hebrew words are even more palpably different, the word for _light_, in the third verse, being _aur_, while the words for _the lights_, in the fourth day's work, are _maurt_ and _at emaur_; words as distinct in shape and sense as our English words, _light_ and _the lighthouses_. The locality of the light of the third verse is, moreover, wholly different from that of the light-bearers of the fourteenth verse. That was placed on earth--these in heaven. It was of the earth alone the writer was speaking, in the second verse; the earth alone is the subject of the following verses. It was the darkness of earth that needed to be illuminated; but there is not the remotest hint, in any portion of Scripture, that any other planet or star was shrouded in gloom at this time. But, on the contrary, we are most distinctly informed that the wonders which God was performing in this world at that very time were distinctly visible amid the cheerful illumination of other orbs, "when the morning stars sang together, and all the sons of God shouted for joy,"[254] as this earth emerged from its temporary darkness. It was not from the light of heaven, but out of this darkness of earth, that God, who still draws the lightning's flash from the black thunder-cloud, commanded the light to shine.[255] And it was upon this earth, and not throughout the universe, that it produced alternate day and night. To extend this command for the illumination of the darkened earth, so as to mean the production of light in general, and the lighting of the most distant telescopic, and even invisible stars--which are neither specified in the command itself, nor by any necessity of language or Scripture implied in it, but, on the contrary, excluded, by the express Scripture declarations of the pre-existence of light, and of morning stars--is an outrage alike against all canons of criticism, laws of grammar, and dictates of common sense. The command, "Let there be light," had respect to this earth only. The Bible does represent this earth as illuminated at a time when the sun was not visible from its surface--perhaps not visible at all. Now, if any one will undertake to scoff at the Bible for speaking of light without sunshine, or of the sun shining upon a dark earth--as Infidels abundantly do--we demand that he tell us, What is light, and how is it connected with the sun? If he can not, let him cease to scoff at matters too high for him. If he can tell us, he knows that the retardation of Encke's comet, which every year falls nearer and nearer the sun, has discovered the existence of an attenuated ether in the expanse or firmament; and that the experiments of Arago on the polarization of light have finally demonstrated that our sensation of light is exerted by a series of vibrations or undulations of this fluid,[256] he will then be able to perceive the propriety with which the Author of light and of the Bible speaks, not of _creating_ light, as if it were a material substance, but of _forming_ or commanding its display. And he will be better able to comprehend the beauty and scientific propriety with which he selected the active participle of the verb _to flow_, as the name for the undulations of this fluid; for the primary meaning of the Hebrew verb _ar_ is, _to flow_, or, when used as a noun, _a flood_. "It shall be cast out and drowned, as by the _flood_ of Egypt."[257] And of the like import are the nouns, _iar_ and _aur_, formed from it. "Who is this that covereth up like a _flood_, whose waters are moved like the rivers?"[258] The philosopher, even though he be a skeptic, will cease to mock the Bible when he reads there, that 6000 years ago its Author termed light _the flowing--the undulation_. "In the words of the 'Son of God,' and the 'Son of Man,' no less than in his works, with all their adaptation to the circumstances of the times and persons to whom they were originally delivered, are things inexplicable--concealed germs of an infinite development, reserved for future ages to unfold."[259] To the man of learning and reflection, this progressive fullness, and unfathomable depth of the Scripture, is a most conclusive proof that it was dictated by Him in whom are hid all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge. But the ignorant scoffers--the great majority--will mock on, and speak evil of the things they know not. Their mockery is founded on two assumptions, which they believe to be irrefutable; that the sun is the only possible source of light to the earth; and that it is impossible for the sun to exist without illuminating the earth. Unless they can _prove_ both of these assumptions to be true, they can not prove the Bible account of creation to be false, nor even show it to be impossible. Neither of these assumptions can possibly be proved true; for none of them can explore the universe, to discover the sources of light, nor put the sun through every possible experiment, to discover that his light is an inseparable quality. The only thing Infidels can truly allege against the Bible account of the origin of light is, _their ignorance of the process_. The argument is simply this: "God could not cause light without sunshine, _because I don't know how he did it_. Nor _can I understand_ how the sun shone on a dark earth; therefore, it is impossible." These arguments from ignorance need no other answer than the questions, Do you know how the sun shines at all? Is your ignorance the measure of God's wisdom? But I shall demonstrate the utter falsehood of both these assumptions, by showing the actual existence of many sources of light besides the sun, and the perfect possibility of the existence of the sun without sunshine, and of sunshine without any light reaching the earth. Thus, both the alleged _impossibilities_ upon which the argument against the truth of the Bible is based will be removed, and the gross ignorance of natural science displayed by professedly scientific scoffers at the Bible exposed. Light, so far from being solely derived from the sun, exists in, and can be educed from, almost any known substance. Even children are familiar with the light produced by the friction of two pieces of quartz; and no one needs to be informed how light may be produced by the combustion of inflammable substances. But the number of these substances is far greater than is generally supposed, and light can be produced by processes to which we do not generally apply the idea of burning. Resins, wool, silks, wood, and all kinds of earths and alkalies, are capable of emitting light in suitable electrical conditions; so that the surface of our earth may have been a source of light in past ages, as it even now is,[260] near the poles and the equator, flashing its Aurora Borealis and Aurora Australis, and sending out its belts of Zodiacal light,[261] far into the surrounding darkness. Schubert, quoted by Kurtz, says: "May not that polar light, which is called the Aurora of the North, be the last glittering light of a departed age of the world, in which the earth was inclosed in an expanse of aerial fluid, from which, through the agency of electric magnetic forces, streamed forth an incomparably greater degree of light, accompanied with animating warmth, almost in a similar mode to what still occurs in the luminous atmosphere of our sun?" Again, the metallic bases of all the earths are highly inflammable. A brilliant flame can be produced by the combustion of water. All the metals can be made to flash forth lightnings, under suitable electric and magnetic excitements. The crystals of several rocks give out light during the process of crystallization. Thousands of miles of the earth's surface must once have presented the lurid glow of a vast furnace full of igneous rocks. Even now, the copper color of the moon during an ellipse shows us that the earth is a source of light.[262] The mountains on the surface of Venus and the moon, and the continents and oceans of Mars, attest the existence of upheaval and subsidence, and of volcanic fires, capable of producing such phenomena, and of course of sources of light in those planets, such as exist on the earth. We know, then, most certainly, that there are many other bodies capable of producing light besides the sun. That God could command the light to shine out of darkness, and convert the very ocean into a magnificent illumination, the following facts clearly prove. "Capt. Bonnycastle, coming up the Gulf of St. Lawrence, on the seventh of September, 1826, was roused by the mate of the vessel, in great alarm, from an unusual appearance. It was a starlight night, when suddenly the sky became overcast, in the direction of the high land of Cornwallis County, _and an instantaneous and intensely vivid light, resembling the Aurora, shot out of the hitherto gloomy and dark sea_, on the lee bow, which was so brilliant that it lighted everything distinctly, even to the mast-head. The light spread over the whole sea, between the two shores, and the waves, which before had been tranquil, now began to be agitated. Capt. Bonnycastle describes the scene as that of _a blazing sheet of awful and most brilliant light_. A long and vivid line of light, superior in brightness to the parts of the sea not immediately near the vessel, showed the base of the high, frowning, and dark land abreast; the sky became lowering, and more intensely obscure. Long tortuous lines of light showed immense numbers of large fish, darting about as if in consternation. The topsail yard and mizzen boom were lighted by the glare, as if gas-lights had been burning directly below them; and until just before daybreak, at four o'clock, the most minute objects were distinctly visible."[263] The other assumption, that the sun could not possibly have existed without giving light to the earth, is contradicted by the most familiar facts. The earth and each of the planets might have been, and most probably were, surrounded by a dense atmosphere, through which the sun's rays could not penetrate. It is not at all necessary to prove that such was the fact. I am only concerned to prove the _possibility_; for the Infidel's objection is founded on the presumed _impossibility_ of the coexistence of a dark earth and a shining sun. Any person who has ever been in Pittsburg, Glasgow, or the manufacturing districts of England, and has seen how the smoke of even a hundred factory chimneys will shroud the heavens, can easily comprehend how a similar discharge, on a larger scale, from the thousands of primeval volcanoes,[264] would cover the earth with the pall of darkness. By the eruption of a single volcano, in the island of Sumbawa, in 1815, the air was filled with ashes, from Java to Celebes, darkening an area of more than 200,000 square miles; and the darkness was so profound in Java, three hundred miles distant from the volcano, that nothing equal to it was ever witnessed in the darkest night.[265] Those who have witnessed the fogs raised on the Banks of Newfoundland, in the Gulf of St. Lawrence, and in the Bay of San Francisco, by the mingling of currents of water of slightly different temperatures, can be at no loss to conceive the density of the vapors produced by the boiling of the sea around and over the multitude of volcanoes[266] which have produced the countless _atolls_ of the Pacific, and by the vast upheavals of thousands of miles of heated rocks of the primary formations into the beds of primeval oceans. While such processes were in progress, it was impossible but that darkness should be upon the face of the deep.[267] Even now, a slight change of atmospheric density and temperature would vail the earth with darkness. We see this substantially done every time that God "covereth the light with clouds, and commandeth it not to shine by the cloud that cometh betwixt," although the sun continues to shine with all his usual splendor. To understand how there may be a day without sunshine, we need only conceive the whole earth temporarily enveloped in the vapors of the unastronomical atmosphere of Peru, thus described by Humboldt: "A thick mist obscures the firmament in this region for many months, during the period called _tiempo de la garua_. Not a planet--not the most brilliant stars of the southern hemisphere--are visible. It is frequently almost impossible to distinguish the position of the moon. If, by chance, the outline of the sun's disc be visible during the day, it appears devoid of rays, as if seen through colored glasses. According to what modern geology has taught us to conjecture concerning the ancient history of our atmosphere, its primitive condition in respect to its mixture and density _must have been unfavorable to the transmission of light_. When we consider the numerous processes which, in the primary world, may have led to the separation of the solids, fluids, and gases around the earth's surface, the thought involuntarily arises, _how narrowly the human race escaped being surrounded with an untransparent atmosphere_, which, though not greatly prejudicial to some classes of vegetation, would yet have completely vailed the whole of the starry canopy. All knowledge of the structure of the universe could then have been withheld from the inquiring spirit of man."[268] The sun, then, may have shone with all his brilliancy, for thousands of years, and a single ray never have penetrated the darkness upon the face of the deep. But we will go further, and show that so far from light being an essential property of suns, it is a very variable attribute, and that in several cases suns have ceased, and others begun, to shine, before our eyes. The fixed stars are self-luminous bodies, similar to our sun, only immensely distant from us. Their numbers, magnitudes, and places, are known and recorded. But new stars have frequently flashed into view, where none were previously seen to exist; and others have gradually grown dim and disappeared, without changing their place; and a few which had disappeared have reappeared in the same spot they formerly occupied; while others have changed their color since the era of astronomical observation. In short, there is no permanence in the heavens, any more than on the earth; but a perpetual progress and change is the destiny of suns and stars, of which the most conspicuous indication is the variability of their powers of giving light, of which I shall transcribe a few instances. "On the eleventh of November, 1572, as the illustrious Danish astronomer, Tycho, was walking through the fields, he was astonished to observe a new star in the constellation Cassiopea, beaming with a radiance quite unwonted in that part of the heavens. Suspecting some delusion about his eyes, he went to a group of peasants, to ascertain if they saw it, and found them gazing at it with as much astonishment as himself. He went to his instrument, and fixed its place, from which it never after appeared to deviate. For some time it increased in brightness--greatly surpassed Sirius in luster, and even Jupiter. It was seen by good eyes in the daytime; a thing which happens only to Venus, under very favorable circumstances; and at night it pierced through clouds which obscured the rest of the stars. After reaching its fullest brightness, it again diminished, passed through all degrees of visible magnitude, assuming in succession the hues of a dying conflagration, and then finally disappeared." "It is impossible to imagine anything more tremendous than a conflagration that could be visible at such a distance."[269] Astronomers now recognize a class of such _Temporary Stars_, which have appeared from time to time in different parts of the heavens, blazing forth with extraordinary luster, and after remaining awhile, apparently immovable, have died away, and left no trace.[270] Twenty-one of such appearances of new suns are on record.[271] Still further, many familiar suns have ceased to shine. "On a careful re-examination of the heavens, _many stars are found to be missing_."[272] "There are many well authenticated cases of the disappearance of old stars, whose places had been fixed with a degree of certainty not to be doubted. In October, 1781, Sir William Herschel observed a star, No. 55 in Flamstead's Catalogue, in the constellation Hercules. In 1790 the same star was observed by the same astronomer, but since that time no search has been able to detect it. The stars 80 and 81 of the same catalogue, both of the fourth magnitude, have likewise disappeared. In May, 1828, Sir John Herschel missed the star No. 42, in the constellation Virgo, which has never since been seen. Examples might be multiplied, but it is unnecessary."[273] The demonstration of the variableness of the light-giving power of suns is completed by the phenomena of the class called _Variable Stars_; though the best astronomers are now agreed that _variability, and not uniformity_, in the emission of light, is the general character of the stars.[274] But the variations which occur before our eyes impress us more deeply than those which require centuries for their completion. Sir John Herschel has observed, and graphically described, one such instance of variation of light. "The star Eta Argus has always hitherto been regarded as a star of the second magnitude; and I never had reason to regard it as variable. In November, 1837, _I saw it, as usual_. Judge of my surprise to find, on the sixteenth of December, that _it had suddenly become a star of the first magnitude_, and almost equal to Rigel. It continued to increase. Rigel is now not to be compared with it. It exceeds Arcturus, and is very near equal to Alpha Centauri, being, at the moment I write, the fourth star in the heavens, in the order of brightness."[275] It has since passed through several variations of luster. Humboldt gives a catalogue of twenty-four of such stars whose variations have been recorded. "A strange field of speculation is opened by this phenomenon. Here we have a star fitfully variable to an astonishing extent, and whose fluctuations are spread over centuries, apparently in no settled period, and with no regularity of progression. What origin can we ascribe to these sudden flashes and relapses? What conclusions are we to draw as to the comfort or habitability of a system depending for its supply of light and heat on such an uncertain source? Speculations of this kind can hardly be termed visionary, when we consider that, from what has been before said, we are compelled to admit a community of nature between the fixed stars and our own sun; and when we reflect, that geology testifies to the fact of extensive changes having taken place, at epochs of the most remote antiquity, in the climate and temperature of our globe; changes difficult to reconcile with the operation of secondary causes, such as a different distribution of sea and land, but which would find an easy and natural explanation in a slow variation of the supply of light and heat afforded by the sun himself."[276] "I can not otherwise understand alterations of heat and cold so extensive as at one period to have clothed high northern latitudes with a more than tropical luxuriance of vegetation, and at another to have buried vast tracts of Europe, now enjoying a genial climate, and smiling with fertility, under a glacier crust of enormous thickness. Such changes seem to point to causes more powerful than the mere local distribution of land and water can well be supposed to have been. In the slow secular variations of our supply of light and heat from the sun, _which, in the immensity of time, may have gone to any extent, and succeeded each other in any order, without violating the analogy of sidereal phenomena which we know to have taken place_, we have a cause, not indeed established as a fact, but readily admissible as something beyond a bare possibility, fully adequate to the utmost requirements of geology. A change of half a magnitude on the luster of our sun, regarded as a fixed star, spread over successive geological epochs--now progressive, now receding, now stationary--_is what no astronomer would now hesitate to admit as a perfectly reasonable and not improbable supposition_."[277] The most eminent astronomers are perfectly unanimous in their deductions from these facts. They regard _variability as the general characteristic of suns and stars, our own sun not exempted_. "We are led," says Humboldt, "by analogy to infer, that as the fixed stars _universally_ have not merely an apparent, but a real motion of their own, so their surfaces or luminous atmospheres are generally subject to those changes (in their "light process") which recur, in the great majority, in extremely long, and therefore unmeasured, and probably undeterminable periods, or which, in a few, recur without being periodical, as it were, by a sudden revolution, either for a longer or a shorter time." And he asks, _Why should our sun differ from other suns?_ In reference to the extinction of suns, he says: "What we no longer see is not necessarily annihilated. It is merely the transition of matter into new forms--into combinations which are subject to new processes. Dark cosmical bodies may, by a renewed process of light, again become luminous."[278] In confirmation of the fact adduced in support of this view, by La Place, "that those stars which have become invisible, after having surpassed Jupiter in brilliancy, have not changed their place during the time they continued visible," he adds, "The luminous process has simply ceased." Bessel asserts[279] that, "_No reason exists for considering luminosity an essential property of these bodies._" And Nichol sums up the matter in the following emphatic words: "No more is light _inherent_ in the sun than in Tycho's vanished star; and with it and other orbs, a time may come when, through the consent of all the powers of nature, he shall cease to be required to shine. _The womb which contains the future is that which bore the past._"[280] Here, then we behold astronomy presenting to our observation facts and processes so similar to those which revelation presents to our faith, that all those men who are most profoundly versed in her lore, reasoning solely from the facts of science, and without any reference to the Bible, unanimously conclude that there was such a state of darkness and confusion before our era, as the Bible declares--that its causes were most probably such as the Bible implies--and that the sudden illuminating of dark bodies, and their extinction, and even re-illumination, are facts so perfectly well authenticated as matters of observation in regard to other suns, that no reasonable man can hesitate to believe any credible assurance that our sun has passed through such a process. With what feelings, then, are we to regard men who, in defiance of the most common facts, and in contradiction to the demonstrations of science, blaspheme the God of truth as a teacher of falsehood, because he speaks of light distinct from that of the sun? Surely, such men are those whom he describes as "having the understanding darkened, being alienated from the life of God, through the ignorance that is in them, because of the blindness of their hearts. In whom the God of this world hath blinded the minds of them that believe not."[281] These facts, of the sudden kindling of stars, their gradual passage through all the hues of a dying conflagration, and their final extinction, and present blackness of darkness, are facts of fearful omen to the enemies of God. They are the original threatenings of Heaven, whence the fearful language of Bible warning is derived. They attest its truth, and illustrate its import. The favorite theory of the unbeliever is the uniformity of nature. "Where," says he, "is the promise of Christ's coming to judgment; for since the fathers fell asleep, all things continue as they were since the beginning of the world?" But the telescope dispels the illusion, exhibits the course of nature as a succession of catastrophes, displays the conflagration of other worlds, and the extinction of their suns, before our eyes, and asks, _Why should our sun differ from other suns?_ It is not the preacher, but the philosopher, who has turned prophet, when--looking back on the period when the Siberian elephant and rhinoceros were frozen amid their native jungle, and icebergs visited the plains of India--he proclaims, "_The womb that bore the past contains the future._" The threatenings of God's Word are invested with a mantle of terrible literality by the facts we have been contemplating. Raised at the day of resurrection, in these bodies, and with these senses, and this capability of rejoicing in the light, and shuddering and pining amid outward gloom, physical darkness will be the terrible prison of those who chose darkness rather than light, because their deeds were evil. The Father of Lights shall withdraw his blessed influences from the hearts, the dwellings, the eyes, of those who say to him, "Depart from us, for we desire not the knowledge of thy ways." The sun shall cease to vivify God's corn, and wine, and oil, which ungodly men consume upon their lusts. The moon shall cease to shine upon the robber's toil, and the stars to illumine the adulterer's path. The light of heaven shall cease to gild the field of carnage, where men perform the work of hell. In the very midst of your worldliness and business, unbeliever, when you are in all the engrossment of buying and selling, and planting and building, and marrying and giving in marriage, without warning or expectation, "the sun shall go down at noon, and the stars shall be darkened in the clear day." As in the warning and example given to the enemies of the Lord in Egypt, thick darkness, that may be felt, shall wind its inevitable chains around you, preventing your escape from the judgment of the great day, and giving you a fearful foretaste of that "blackness of darkness for ever" of which you are now forewarned in the Word of Truth. "The sun shall be darkened, and the moon shall not give her light, And the stars shall fall from the heavens, And the powers of the heavens shall be shaken; And then shall appear the sign of the Son of Man in the heavens, And then shall all the tribes of the earth mourn; And they shall see the Son of Man coming in the clouds of heaven, With power and great glory." "Cast ye the unprofitable servant into outer darkness; There shall be weeping and gnashing of teeth." "Hear ye, and give ear; be not proud, For the Lord hath spoken. Give glory to the Lord, your God, Before he cause darkness, And before your feet stumble upon the dark mountains; And while ye look for light, He turn it into the shadow of death, And make it gross darkness." "I am the light of the world; He that followeth me shall not walk in darkness, But shall have the light of life."[282] FOOTNOTES: [218] Duff's India, 127. [219] Somerville's Connection of the Physical Sciences, p. 83. [220] Poole's Horæ Egyptiacæ. [221] Henri L'Egypte Pharonique. [222] Atlas Ethnographique, Eth. I. [223] See Cruden's Concordance, Art. _Day_. [224] Dan., chap. xii. 10. Job, chap. xxxviii. 4. Col., chap. ii. 18. [225] Chap. I. _Did the World Make Itself?_ [226] Genesis, chap. i. 21. [227] Genesis, chap. i. 27. [228] Psalm civ. 30. Eccl., chap. xii. 1. [229] Psalm li. 10. Ezekiel, chap. xxxvi. 26. [230] Genesis, chap. ii. 1-5. Isaiah, chap. xliii. 1-7; chap. xlv. 1, 2. [231] Wiseman's Lectures on the Connection of Science and Revealed Religion, 1-297. [232] Commentary on Genesis, i. 2. [233] Exodus, chap. i. 5, 8. [234] Isaiah, chap. xi. 3, 4. [235] Psalm xc. [236] John, chap. i. 1. [237] Revelation, chap. i. 8. [238] Proverbs, chap. viii. 22. [239] Samuel, chap. xxii. 43. Isaiah, chap. xl. 19; chap. xliv. 24; chap. xlii. 5. Psalm cxxxvi. 6. Numbers, chap. xvii. 38. Job, chap. xxxvii. 18. [240] Cosmos v. 2, p. 60. [241] Genesis, chap. xix. 26. Exodus, chap. xiii. 20; chap. xxxiii. 10. Jeremiah, chap. i. 18. Galatians, chap. ii. 7. Song, chap. iii. 6. Job, chap. ix. 6; chap. xxvi. 11. Psalm lxxv. 3. 1 Timothy, chap. iii. 15. Revelation, chap. iii. 12. [242] Job, chap. xxxvi. 27. [243] Job, chap. xxviii. 24--literal reading. [244] Ecclesiastes, chap. i. 6. [245] Isaiah, chap. xl. [246] Job, chap. xxvi. 7. [247] Ruth, chap. iii. 15. [248] Job, chap. xxxviii. 37; chap. xxvi. 8; chap. xxxviii. 9; chap. xxxvi. 29. Psalm cv. 39; lxxvii. 17. [249] Isaiah, chap. xliv. 22. Jeremiah, chap. iv. 13. Job, chap. xxxviii. 37. Proverbs, chap. xxx. 4. [250] Ecclesiastes, chap. xi. 4. Psalm civ. 3. Matthew, chap. xxix. 30. [251] Isaiah, chap. xlv. 7. 1 John, chap. i. 5. Daniel, chap. ii. 22. 1 Timothy, chap. vi. 16. [252] Job, chap. xxxviii. 9, 10. Literally, _In my making_, etc. [253] Revelation, chap. xxi. 23; chap. xxii. 5. Isaiah, chap. lx. 19. [254] Job, chap. xxxviii. 7. [255] 2 Corinthians, chap. iv. 6. [256] Somerville's Connection of the Physical Sciences, Sec. 19-23. [257] Amos, chap. viii. 8. [258] Jeremiah, chap. xlvi. 7. Genesis, chap. xli. 1-18. See Parkhurst's Hebrew Lexicon, sub voce. [259] Neander. [260] Cosmos, Vol. I. p. 196. [261] Annual of Scientific Discovery. 1856. [262] Cosmos, Vol. I. p. 196. Nichol's Solar System, 184. [263] Somerville's Connection of Physical Sciences, 288. [264] Cosmos, Vol. I. p. 250. [265] Lyell's Principles of Geology, 465. [266] Cosmos, Vol. I. p. 250. [267] Cosmos, Vol. I. pp. 198, 216. [268] Cosmos, Vol. III. p. 139. [269] Nichol's Solar System, 188. Connection of Physical Sciences, 363. [270] Herschel's Outlines, Sec. 827. [271] Cosmos, Vol. VIII. p. 210. [272] Herschel's Outlines, Sec. 832. [273] Mitchell's Planetary and Stellar Worlds, 294. [274] Cosmos, Vol. III. p. 253. [275] Astronomical Observations, 351. [276] Herschel's Outlines, Sec. 830. [277] Astronomical Observations, 351. [278] Cosmos, Vol. III. pp. 222-232. [279] Cosmos, Vol. III. p. 246. [280] Solar System, 190. [281] Ephesians, chap. iv. 18. 2 Corinthians, chap. iv. 4. [282] Matthew, chap. xxiv. 29. John, chap. viii. 12. Jeremiah, chap. xiii. 15. Matthew, chap. xxii. 13 and chap. xxv. 30. CHAPTER XII. TELESCOPIC VIEWS OF SCRIPTURE. No kind of knowledge is more useful to man than the knowledge of his own ignorance; and no instrument has done more to give him such knowledge than the telescope. Faith is the believing of facts we do not know, upon the word of one who does. If any one knows everything, or thinks he does, he can have no faith. A deep conviction of our own ignorance is, therefore, indispensable to faith. The telescope gives us this conviction in two ways. It shows us that we see a great many things we do not perceive, tells us the size and the distances of those little sparks that adorn the sky, and leads us to reason out their true relations to our earth. Then it tells us, that what we see is little of what is to be seen; that our knowledge is but a drop from the great ocean, a rush-light sparkling in the vast darkness of the unknown. It tells us, that we do not see right, and that we do not see far; and that there may be things, both in heaven and earth, not dreamed of in our philosophy. Further, it confirms the Bible testimony concerning the facts of its own province, by removing all improbability from some of its most wonderful narratives, attesting the accuracy of its language, and confirming, by some of its most recent discoveries the truth of its statements. Our space will only allow us to select five illustrations of the tendency of faith in the telescope, to produce faith in the Bible. 1. One of the latest astronomical discoveries throws light upon one of the most ancient scientific allusions of the Bible, and one which has perplexed both commentators and geologists; _that which hints at the second causes of the deluge_. Not that it is at all needful for us to be able to tell where God Almighty procured the water to drown the ungodly sinners of the old world, before we believe his word that he did so; unless, indeed, somebody has explored the universe, and knows that there is not water enough in it for that purpose, or that it is so far away that he could not fetch it; for, as to the fact itself, geology assures us that all the dry land on earth has been drowned, not only once, but many times. It is not the province of the commentator, but of the geologist, to account for the phenomenon. Several solutions of the difficulty of finding water enough for the purpose have been proposed. One of these supposes that some of the internal caverns of the earth are filled with water, which, when heated by neighboring volcanic fires, would expand one twenty-third of its bulk, and flow out, and raise the ocean. When the volcanic fire was burnt out, and the water cooled, it would of course contract to its former dimensions, and the ocean recede. These caverns they suppose to be meant by "the fountains of the great deep," in Genesis vii. 11. But the Bible describes another, and plainly a very important source of the waters of the deluge, in the rain which fell for forty days and forty nights. At present, all the water in our atmosphere comes from the sea, by evaporation; and the quantity is too insignificant to cover the globe to any considerable depth. Divines and philosophers were perplexed to give any adequate explanation of this language, and considered it simply as Noah's description of the appearance of things as viewed from the ark, rather than an accurate explanation of the actual causes of the deluge. Now, it is certainly true, that the Bible does describe things as they appear to men. It is, however, beginning to be discovered, that these popular appearances are closely connected with philosophical reality. Our purblind astronomy and prattling geology may be as inadequate to expound the mysteries of the Bible philosophy as was the incoherent science of Strabo and Ptolemy. The experience of another planet, now transacting before our eyes, admonishes us not to limit the resources of Omnipotence by our narrow experience, or to suppose that our young science has catalogued all the weapons in the arsenal of the Almighty. The planet Saturn is surrounded by a revolving belt, consisting of several distinct rings, containing an area a hundred and forty-six times greater than the surface of our globe, with a thickness of a hundred miles. From mechanical considerations it had been proved, that these rings could not be of a uniform thickness all around, else when a majority of his seven moons were on the same side, the attraction would draw them in upon him, on the opposite side; and once attracted to his surface, they could never get loose again, if they were solid.[283] It was next ascertained that the motions of the moons and of the rings were such, that if the inequality was always in the same place, the same result must follow; so that the ring must be capable of changing its thickness, according to circumstances. It must be either composed of an immense number of small solid bodies, capable of shifting freely about among themselves, or else be fluid. Finally, it has been demonstrated that this last is the fact; that the density of this celestial ocean is nearly that of water; and that the inner portion, at least, is so transparent, that the planet has been seen through it.[284] "The ring of Saturn is, then, a stream or streams of fluid, rather denser than water, flowing about the primary."[285] The extraordinary fact, which shows us how God can deluge a planet when he pleases, I give not in the words of a divine, but of a philosopher, whose thoughtless illustration of Scripture is all the more valuable, that it is evidently unintentional. "M. Otto Struve, Mr. Bond, and Sir David Brewster, are agreed that Saturn's third ring is fluid, that this is not of very recent formation, and that it is not subject to rapid change. And they have come to the extraordinary conclusion, that the inner border of the ring has, since the day of Huygens, been gradually approaching to the body of Saturn, and that we may expect, sooner or later--perhaps in some dozen years--to see the rings united with the body of the planet. _With this deluge impending, Saturn would scarcely be a very eligible residence for men, whatever it might be for dolphins._"[286] Knowing, as we most certainly do, that the fluid envelopes of our own planet were once exceedingly different from the present,[287] here is a possibility quite sufficient to stop the mouth of the scoffer. Let him show that God did not, or prove that he could not, suspend a similar series of oceans over the earth, or cease to pronounce a universal deluge impossible. 2. That sublime ode, in which Deborah describes _the stars in their courses as fighting against Sisera_[288] has been rescued from the grasp of modern scoffers, by the progress of astronomy. It has been alleged as lending its support to the delusions of judicial astrology; by one class desiring to damage the Bible as a teacher of superstition, and by another to help their trade. The Bible reader will doubtless be greatly surprised to hear it asserted, that the Bible lends its sanction to this antiquated, and, as he thinks, exploded superstition. He knows how expressly the Bible forbids God's people to have anything to do with it, or with its heathenish professors. "Thus saith the Lord, Learn not the way of the heathen, and be not dismayed at the signs of heaven, for the heathen are dismayed at them."[289] And they will be still more surprised to learn, that those who object against the Bible, that it ascribes a controlling influence to the stars, are firm believers in Reichenbach's discovery of _odyle_; an influence from the heavenly bodies so spiritual and powerful, that they imagine it able to govern the world, instead of God Almighty.[290] The passage thus variously abused is a description, in highly poetic strains, of the battle between the troops of Israel and those of Sisera; of the defeat of the latter, and of an earthquake and tempest, which completed the destruction of his exhausted troops. The glory of the victory is wholly ascribed to the Lord God of Israel; while the rain, the thunder, lightning, swollen river, and "the stars in their courses," are all described, in their subordinate places, as only his instruments--the weapons of his arsenal. "Lord, when thou wentest out of Seir, When thou marchedst out of the field of Edom, The earth trembled, and the heavens dropped, The clouds also dropped down water; The mountains also melted from before the Lord, Even that Sinai, from before the Lord God of Israel." Then, after describing the battle, she alludes to the celestial artillery, and to the effects of the storm in swelling the river, and sweeping away the fugitives who had sought the fords: "They fought from heaven; The stars in their courses fought against Sisera; The river Kishon swept them away; That ancient river, the river Kishon."[291] After describing some further particulars the hymn concludes with an allusion to the clearing away of the tempest and the appearance of the unclouded sun over the field of victory: "So let all thine enemies perish, O Lord; But let them that love thee be as the sun, when he goeth forth in his might." Where is there the least allusion here to any controlling influence of the stars? You might just as well say, "The Bible ascribes a controlling influence over the destinies of men, to the river Kishon;" for they are both spoken of, in the same language, as instruments in God's hand for the destruction of his enemies. But it is objected, "Even by this explanation you have the Bible representing the stars as causing the rain." Not so fast. If a man were very ignorant, and had never heard of anything falling from the sky but rain, he might think so. And if the Bible did attribute to the stars some such influence over the vapors of the atmosphere, as experience shows the moon to possess over the ocean, are you able to demonstrate its absurdity? Deborah, however, when she sang of the stars _in their courses_ fighting against Sisera, was describing a phenomenon very different from a fall of rain--was, in fact, describing a fall of ærolites upon the army of Sisera. Multitudes of stones have fallen from the sky, and not less than five hundred such falls are recorded. "On September 1, 1814, a few minutes before midday, while the sky was perfectly serene, a violent detonation was heard in the department of the Lot and Garonne. This was followed by three or four others, and finally by a rolling noise, at first resembling a discharge of musketry, afterward the rumbling of carriages, and lastly that of a large building falling down. Stones were immediately after precipitated to the ground, some of which weighed eighteen pounds, and sunk into a compact soil, to the depth of eight or nine inches; and one of them rebounded three or four feet from the ground." "A great shower of stones fell at Barbatan, near Roquefort, in the vicinity of Bordeaux, on July 24, 1790. A mass fifteen inches in diameter penetrated a hut and killed a herdsman and bullock. Some of the stones weighed twenty-five pounds, and others thirty pounds." "In July, 1810, a large ball of fire fell from the clouds, at Shahabad, which burned five villages, destroyed the crops, and killed several men and women."[292] Astronomers are perfectly agreed as to the character of these masses, and the source whence they come. "It appears from recent astronomical observations that the sun numbers among his attendants not only planets, asteroids, and comets, but also immense multitudes of meteoric stones, and shooting stars."[293] Ærolites are, then, really stars. They are composed of materials similar to those of our earth; the only other star whose materials we can compare with them. They have a proper motion around the sun, in orbits distinct from that of the earth. They are capable of emitting the most brilliant light, in favorable circumstances. Some of them are as large as the asteroids. One, of 600,000 tons weight, passed within twenty-five miles of the earth, at the rate of twenty miles a second. A fragment of it reached the earth.[294] "That ærolites were called _stars_ by the ancients is indisputable. Indeed, Anaxagoras considered the stars to be only stony masses, torn from the earth by the violence of rotation. Democritus tells us, that invisible dark masses of stone move with the visible stars, and remain on that account unknown, but sometimes fall upon the earth, and are extinguished, as happened with the stony star which fell near Aegos Potamos."[295] When Deborah, therefore, describes the _stars in their courses_ as fighting against Sisera, it is an utterly unfounded assumption to suppose that she has any allusion to the baseless fancies of an astrology everywhere condemned by the religion she professed, when a simple and natural explanation is afforded by the fact, that stars do fall from the heavens to the earth, and _that they do so in their courses_, and just by reason of their orbital motion; and that the ancients both knew the fact, and gave the right name to those bodies. Let no reasonable man delude himself with the notion that God has no weapons more formidable than the dotings of astrology, till he has taken a view of the arsenals of God's artillery, which he has treasured up against the day of battle and of war. Here it may be well to notice the illustration which the remarkable showers of meteors, particularly those of November, 1833, shed upon several much ridiculed texts of Scripture. Scientific observation has fully confirmed and illustrated the scientific accuracy of the Bible in such expressions as, "the stars shall fall from heaven;" "there fell a great star from heaven, burning as it were a lamp;" "and the stars of heaven fell unto the earth, even as a fig-tree casteth her untimely figs, when she is shaken of a mighty wind." Whatever political or ecclesiastical events these symbols may signify, there can be no question, now, that the astronomical phenomenon used to prefigure them is correctly described in the Bible. Most of my readers have seen some of these remarkable exhibitions; but for the sake of those who have not, I give a brief account of one. "By much the most splendid meteoric shower on record, began at nine o'clock, on the evening of the twelfth of November, 1833, and lasted till sunrise next morning. It extended from Niagara and the northern lakes of America, to the south of Jamaica, and from 61° of longitude, in the Atlantic, to 100° of longitude in Central Mexico. Shooting stars and meteors of the apparent size of Jupiter, Venus, and even the full moon, darted in myriads toward the horizon, _as if every star in the heavens had darted from their spheres_." They are described as having been as frequent as the flakes of snow in a snow-storm, and to have been seen with equal brilliancy over the greater part of the continent of North America.[296] The source whence these meteors proceed is distinctly ascertained to be, as was already remarked with regard to the ærolites, a belt of small planetoids, revolving around the sun in a little less than a year, and in an orbit intersecting that of the earth, at such an angle, that every thirty-three years, or thereabouts, the earth meets the full tide on the twelfth of November. These meteors are true and proper stars. "All the observations made during the year 1853 agree with those of previous years, and confirm what may be regarded as sufficiently well established: the cosmical origin of shooting stars."[297] 3. The language of the Bible with respect to _the circuit of the sun_ is found to have anticipated one of the most sublime discoveries of modern astronomy. True to the reality, as well as to the appearance of things, it is scientifically correct, without becoming popularly unintelligible. There is a class of aspirants to gentility who refuse to recognize any person not dressed in the style which they suppose to be fashionable among the higher classes. A Glasgow butcher's wife, in the Highlands, attired in all the magnificence of her satins, laces, and jewelry, returned the courteous salute of the little woman in the gingham dress and gray shawl with a contemptuous toss of the head, and flounced past, to learn, to her great mortification, that she had missed an opportunity of forming an acquaintance with the Queen. So a large class of pretenders to science refuse to become acquainted with Bible truth, because it is not shrouded in the technicalities of science, but displays itself in the plain speech of the common people to whom it was given. They will have it, that because its author used common language, it was because he could not afford any other; and as he did not contradict every vulgar error believed by the people to whom he spoke, it was because he knew no better; and because the Hebrews knew nothing of modern discoveries in astronomy, geology, and the other sciences, and the Bible does not contain lectures on these subjects, the God of the Hebrews must have been equally ignorant, and the Bible consequently beneath the notice of a philosopher. You will hear such persons most pertinaciously assert, that Moses believed all the absurdities of the Ptolemaic astronomy; that the earth is the immovable center, around which revolve the crystal sphere of the firmament, and the sun, and moon, and stars, which are attached to it, after the manner of lamps to a ceiling; and that he, and the world generally in his day, had not emerged from the grossest barbarism and ignorance of all matters of natural science. Yet these very people will probably tell you, in the same conversation, of the wonderful astronomical observations made by the Egyptians, ten thousand years before the days of Adam! So beautiful is the consistency of Infidel science. But when you inquire into the source of their knowledge of the philosophy of the ancients, you discover that they did not draw it from the writings of Moses, of which they betray the grossest ignorance, nor of any one who lived within a thousand years of Moses' time. Voltaire is their authority for all such matters. He transferred to the early Asiatics all the absurdities of the later Greek philosophers, and would have us believe that Moses, who wrote before these Greeks had learned to read, was indebted to them for his philosophy. Of the learning of the ancient patriarchs Voltaire does not tell them much, for a satisfactory reason. Yet it might not have required much learning to infer, that the eyes, and ears, and nerves of men who lived ten times as long as we can, must have been more perfect than ours; that a man who could observe nature with such eyes, under a sky where Stoddart now sees the ring of Saturn, the crescent of Venus, and the moons of Jupiter, with the naked eye,[298] and continue his observations for eight hundred years, would certainly acquire a better knowledge of the appearance of things than any number of generations of short-lived men, called away by death before they have well learned how to observe, and able only to leave the shell of their discoveries to their successors; that unless we have some good reason for believing that the mind of man was greatly inferior, before the flood, to what it is now, the antediluvians must have made a progress in the knowledge of the physical sciences, during the three thousand years which elapsed from the creation to the deluge, much greater than the nations of Europe have effected since they began to learn their A, B, C, about the same number of years ago; and that though Noah and his sons might not have preserved all the learning of their drowned contemporaries, they would still have enough to preserve them from the reproach of ignorance and barbarism; at least until their sons have succeeded in building a larger ship than the ark, or a monument equal to the Great Pyramid. The Astronomer Royal of Scotland[299] has demonstrated, that in this imperishable monument, erected four thousand years ago, the builders, who took care to keep it alone, of all the buildings of Egypt, free from idolatrous images or inscriptions, recorded with most laborious care, in multiples of the earth's polar diameter, a metric system, including linear and liquid measures, and a system of weights based on a cubical measure of water of uniform temperature; which uniform temperature they took the utmost care to preserve. He shows further, that they were acquainted with the precession of the equinoxes, with the density of the earth, and with the earth's distance from the sun; or at least calculated it at what proves to be nearly a mean of our discordant calculations; and that they were acquainted with problems just beginning to attract the attention of the science of Europe. When we know that the Chaldeans taught the Egyptians the expansive power of steam, and the induction of electricity by pointed conductors; that from the most remote antiquity the Chinese were acquainted with decimal fractions, electro-magnetism, the mariner's compass, and the art of making glass; that lenses have been found in the ruins of Nineveh, and that an artificial currency was in circulation in the first cities built after the flood;[300] that astronomical observations were made in China, with so much accuracy, from the deluge till the days of Yau, B. C. 2357, that the necessary intercalations were made for harmonizing the solar with the lunar year, and fixing the true period of 365-1/4 days; and that similar observations were conducted to a like result within a few years of the same remote period, in Babylon;--if the reader does not conclude that the world may have forgotten as much ancient lore during eighteen hundred years of idolatrous barbarism before the coming of Christ, as it has learned in the same number since, he will, at least, satisfy himself that the ancient patriarchs were not ignorant savages.[301] "Whole nations," says La Place, "have been swept from the earth, with their languages, arts, and sciences, leaving but confused masses of ruins to mark the place where mighty cities stood. Their history, with a few doubtful traditions, has perished; _but the perfection of their astronomical observations marks their high antiquity, fixes the periods of their existence, and proves that even at that early time they must have made considerable progress in science_."[302] The Infidel theory, that the first men were savages, is a pure fiction, refuted by every known fact of their history. That, however, is not the matter under discussion. We are not inquiring now, what Moses and the prophets _thought_, but what the Author of the Bible _told them to say_. The scribe writes as his employer dictates. "I will put my words in thy mouth," said God to Jeremiah. "My tongue is as the pen of a ready writer," said David. The prophets began, not with "Thus saith Isaiah," but "Thus saith the Lord." Unless the Word of God was utterly different from all his other works, it must transcend the comprehension of man in some respects. The profoundest philosopher is as ignorant of the cause of the vegetation of wheat as the mower who cuts it down; but their ignorance of the mysteries of organic force is no reason why the one may not harvest, and the other eat and live. Just so God's prophets conveyed previous mysteries to the Church, of the full import of which they themselves were ignorant; even as Daniel heard but understood not. The prophets, to whom it was revealed, that they did not minister to themselves, but to us, inquired and searched diligently into the meaning of their own prophecies; which meaning, nevertheless, continued hid for ages and generations.[303] If the prophets of the old economy might be ignorant of the privileges of the gospel day, of which they prophesied, at God's dictation, they might very well be ignorant, also, of the philosophy of creation, and yet write a true account of the facts, from his mouth. Let us suppose, then, that the ancient Hebrews and their prophets were, if not quite as ignorant of natural science as modern Infidels are pleased to represent them, yet unacquainted with the discoveries of Herschel and Newton; and, as a necessary consequence, that their language was the adequate medium of conveying their imperfect ideas, containing none of the technicalities invented by philosophers to mark modern scientific discoveries; and that God desired to convey to them some religious instruction, through the medium of language; must we suppose it indispensable for this purpose that he should use strange words, and scientific phrases, the meaning of which would not be discovered for thirty-three hundred years? Could not Dr. Alexander write a Sabbath-school book, without filling it full of such phrases as "right ascension," "declination," "precession of the equinoxes," "radius vector," and the like? Or, if some wiseacre did prepare such a book, would it be very useful to children? Perhaps even we, learned philosophers of the nineteenth century, are not out of school yet. How many discoveries are yet to be made in all the sciences; discoveries which will doubtless render our fancied perfection as utterly childish to the philosophers of a thousand years hence as the astronomy of the Greeks seems to us; and demand the use of technical language, which would be as unintelligible to us as our scientific nomenclature would have been to Aristotle. If God may not use popular speech in speaking to the people of any given period, but must needs speak the technical language of perfect science, and if science is now, and always will be, of necessity, imperfect, we are led to the sage conclusion, that every revelation from God to man must always be unintelligible! Does it necessarily follow, that because the Author of the Bible uses the common phrases, "sun rising," and "sun setting," in a popular treatise upon religion, that therefore he was ignorant of the rotation of the earth, and intended to teach that the sun revolved around it? He is certainly under no more obligation to depart from the common language of mankind, and introduce the technicalities of science into such a discourse, than mankind in general, and our objectors in particular, are to do the like in their common conversation. Now, I demand to know whether they are aware that the earth's rotation on its axis is the cause of day and night? But do you ever hear any of them use such phrases as "earth rising," and "earth setting?" But if an Infidel's daily use of the phrases, "_sun rising_," "_sun setting_," and the like, does not prove, either that he is ignorant of the earth's rotation as the cause of that appearance, or that he intends to deceive the world by those phrases, why may not Almighty God be as well informed and as honest as the Infidel, though he also condescends to use the common language of mankind? Do you ever hear astronomers, in common discourse, use any other language? I suppose Lieut. Maury, and Herschel, and Le Verrier, and Mitchell, know a little of the earth's rotation; but they, too, use the English tongue very much like other people, and speak of sunrise and sunset; yet nobody accuses them of believing in the Ptolemaic astronomy. Hear the immortal Kepler, the discoverer of the laws of planetary revolution: "We astronomers do not pursue this science with the view of altering common language; but we wish to open the gates of truth, without affecting the vulgar modes of speech. We say with the common people, 'The planets stand still, or go down;' 'the sun rises, or sets;' meaning only that so the thing appears to us, although it is not truly so, as all astronomers are agreed. How much less should we require that the Scriptures of divine inspiration, setting aside the common modes of speech, should shape their words according to the model of the natural sciences, and by employing a dark and inappropriate phraseology about things which surpass the comprehension of those whom it designs to instruct, perplex the simple people of God, and thus obstruct its own way toward the attainment of the far more exalted end to which it aims." It is evident, then, that God not only may, _but must_, use popular language in addressing the people, in a work not professedly scientific; and that if this popular language be scientifically incorrect, such use of it neither implies his ignorance nor approval of the error. But it may be worthy of inquiry whether this popular language of mankind, used in the Bible, be scientifically erroneous. If the language be intended to express an absolute reality, no doubt it is erroneous to say the sun rises and sets; but if it be only intended to describe an appearance, and the words themselves declare that intention, it can not be shown to be false to the fact. Now, when the matter is critically investigated, these phrases are found to be far more accurate than those of "earth rising," and "earth setting," which Infidels say the Author of the Bible should have used. For, as up and down have no existence in nature, save with reference to a spectator, and as the earth is always down with respect to a spectator on its surface, neither rising toward him, nor sinking from him, in reality, nor appearing to do so, unless in an earthquake, the improved phrases are false, both to the appearance of things, and to the cause of it. Whereas, our common speech, making no pretensions to describe the causes of appearances, can not contradict any scientific discovery of these causes, and therefore can not be false to the fact; while it truly describes all that it pretends to describe--the appearance of things to our senses. And so, after all the outcry raised against it by sciolists, the vulgar speech of mankind, used by the Author of the Bible, must be allowed to be philosophical enough for his purpose, and theirs; at least till somebody favors both with a better. Though we are in no way concerned, then, to prove that every poetical figure in Scripture, and every popular illustration taken from nature, corresponds to the accuracy of scientific investigation, before we believe the Bible to be a revelation of our duty to God and man, yet it may be worth while to inquire, further, whether we really find upon its sacred pages such crude and egregious scientific errors as Infidels allege. We have seen in the last chapter, that they are not able to read even its first chapter without blundering. Indeed, they generally boast of their ignorance of its contents. It is a very good rule to take them at their word, and when they quote Scripture, to take it for granted _that they quote it wrong_, unless you know the contrary. The first thing for you to do when an Infidel tells you the Bible says so and so, is to get the Book, and see whether it does or not. You will generally find that he has either misquoted the words, or mistaken their meaning, from a neglect of the context; or perhaps has both misquoted and mistaken. Then, when you are satisfied of the correct meaning of the text, and he tells you that it is contrary to the discoveries of science, the next point is to ask him, _How do you know?_ You will find his knowledge of science and Scripture about equal. Both these tests should be applied to scientific objections to the Bible, as they are all composed of equal parts of biblical blunders, and philosophical fallacies. In the objection under consideration, for instance, both statements are wrong. The Bible does not represent the earth as the immovable center of the universe, or as immovable in space at all. It does not represent the sun and stars as revolving around it. Nor are the facts of astronomy more correctly stated. It is not the Bible, but our objector, that is a little behind the age in his knowledge of science. If we inquire for those texts of Scripture which represent the earth as the immovable center of the universe, we shall be referred to the figurative language of the Psalms, the book of Job, and other poetical parts of Scripture, which speak of the "foundations of the earth," "the earth being established," "abiding for ever," and the like, when the slightest attention to the language would show _that it is intended to be figurative_. The accumulation of metaphors and poetical images in some of these passages is beautiful and grand in the highest degree; but none, save the most stupid reader, would ever dream of interpreting them literally. Take, for instance, Psalm civ. 1-6, where, in one line, the world is described as God's house, with beams, and chambers, and foundations; but in the very next line the figure is changed, and it is viewed as an infant, covered with the deep, as with a garment. "Bless, the Lord, O my soul. O Lord my God, thou art very great; Thou art clothed with honor and majesty: Who coverest thyself with light, as with a garment; Who stretchest out the heavens like a curtain; _Who layeth the beams of his chambers upon the waters_: Who walketh upon the wings of the wind: Who maketh his angels spirits: His ministers a flaming fire: _Who laid the foundations of the earth, That it should not be removed for ever_. Thou coveredst it with the deep, as with a garment: The waters stood above the mountains." But if any one is so gross as to insist on the literality of such a passage, and to allege that it teaches the absolute immobility of the earth, let him tell us what sort of immobility the third verse teaches, and how a building could be stable, the beams of whose chambers are _laid upon the waters_--the chosen emblems of instability. "He hath founded it upon the seas: he hath established it upon the floods," says the same poet, in another Psalm--xxiv 1. This, and all other expressions quoted as declaring the immobility of the earth _in space_, are clearly proved, both by the words used, and the sense of the context, to refer to an entirely different idea: namely, _its duration in time_. Thus, Ecclesiastes i. 4, "One generation passeth away, and another cometh; but the earth abideth forever," is manifestly contrasting the duration of earth with the generations of short-lived men, and has no reference to motion in space at all. Again, in Psalm cxix. 89-91, our objectors find another Bible declaration of the immobility of the earth in space: "For ever, O Lord, thy word is settled in heaven; Thy faithfulness is unto all generations; Thou hast established the earth, and it abideth. _They continue to this day_, according to thine ordinances." The same permanence is here ascribed to the heavens (to which, as our objectors argue, the Bible ascribes a perpetual revolution) as to the earth. The next verse explains this permanence to be _continuance to this day_; durability, not immobility. That the word _establish_ does not necessarily imply fixture, is evident from its application, in Proverbs viii. 28: "He _established_ the clouds," the most fleeting of all things. Nor is the Hebrew word _kun_ (whence our English word, cunning), inconsistent with motion; else, the Psalmist had not said that "a good man's footsteps are _established_ by the Lord."[304] "He _established_ my goings." Wise arrangement is the idea, not permanent fixture. The same remarks apply to Psalm xciii. 1; xcvi. 10; 1 Chronicles xvi. 30, and many other similar passages. "The world is established, that it can not be moved; Thy throne is established of old: Thou art from everlasting." Where the establishment, which is contrasted with the impossible removal, and which explains its import, is evidently not a local fixing of some material seat, in one place, but the everlasting duration of God's authority. The idea is not that of position in space, at all, but of continued duration. Space does not allow us to quote all the passages which refer to this subject; but after an examination of every passage in the Bible usually referred to in this connection, and of a multitude of others bearing upon it, I have no hesitation in saying, that it does not contain a single text which asserts or implies the immobility of the earth in space. The notion was drawn from the absurdities of the Greek philosophy, and the superstitions of popery, but was never gathered from the Word of God. But it is alleged that other passages of Scripture do plainly and unequivocally express the motion of the sun, and his course in a circuit; as, for instance, the Nineteenth Psalm: "In them he hath set a tabernacle for the sun, Which is as a bridegroom coming out of his chamber, And rejoiceth as a strong man to run a race. His going forth is from the end of heaven, And his circuit unto the ends of it." And again, in the account of Joshua's miracle, in the tenth chapter of his book, it is quite evident that the writer supposed the sun to be in motion, in the same way as the moon, for he commanded them both to stand still: "Sun, stand thou still upon Gibeon, and thou moon in the valley of Ajalon. And the sun stood still, and the moon stayed, until the people had avenged themselves upon their enemies." Now, it is said, if the writer had known what he was about, he would have known that the sun was already standing still, and would have told the earth to stop its rotation. And if the earth had obeyed the command, we should never have heard of the miracle; for, as the earth rotates at the rate of a thousand miles an hour, the concussion produced by such a stoppage would have projected Joshua, and Israelites, and Amorites, beyond the moon, to pursue their quarrel among the fixed stars. When we hear men of some respectability bring forward such stuff, we are constrained to wonder, not merely were they ever at school, but if they ever traveled in a railroad car, or whether they suppose their hearers to be so ignorant of the most common facts as to believe that there is no way of bringing a carriage to a stand but by a sudden jerk, or that God is more stupid than the brakeman of an express train. We will do them the justice, however, to say, that they did not invent it, but merely shut their eyes, and opened their mouths, and swallowed it for philosophy, because they found it in the writings of an Infidel scoffer, and of a Neological professor of theology[305]--an edifying example of Infidel credulity! Let it be noticed, that in neither of these texts, nor in any other portion of Scripture, does the Bible say a single word about the revolution of the sun _round the earth_, as the common center of the universe; on which, however, the whole stress of the objection is laid. The passages do not prove what they are adduced to prove. They speak of the sun's motion, and of the sun's orbit, _but they do not say that the earth is the center of that orbit_. These texts, then, do not prove the Author of the Bible ignorant of the system of the universe. The objection is based upon utter ignorance of one of the most important and best attested discoveries of modern astronomy; the grand motion of the sun and solar system through the regions of space, and the dependence of the rotation of all the orbs composing it, upon that motion. It is not the Author of the Bible who is ignorant of the discoveries of modern astronomy--when he speaks of the orbit of the sun, and his race from one end of the heavens to the other, and of the need of a miraculous interposition to stop his course for a single day--but his correctors, who have ventured to decry the statements of a Book which commands the respect of such astronomers as Herschel and Rosse, while ignorant of those elements of astronomy which they might have learned from a perusal of the books used by their children in our common schools. For the benefit of such, however, I will present a brief explanation of the grounds upon which astronomers are as universally agreed upon the belief of the sun's motion around a center of the firmament, as they are upon the belief of the revolution of the earth round the sun. When you are passing in a carriage, at night, through the street of a city lighted up by gas-lamps in the streets, and lights irregularly dispersed in the windows, or passing in a ferry-boat, from one such city to another, at a short distance from it, you observe that the lights which you are leaving appear to draw closer and closer together, while those toward which you are approaching widen out, and seem to separate from each other. If the night were perfectly dark, so that you could see nothing but the lights, you could certainly know not only that you were in motion, but also to what point you were moving, by carefully watching their appearances. So, if all the fixed stars were absolutely fixed, and the sun and planets, including our earth, were moving in any direction--say to the north--then the stars toward which we were moving would seem to widen out from each other, and those which we were leaving would seem to close up; so that the space which appeared between any two stars in the south, in a correct map of the heavens, a hundred years ago, would be smaller, and that between any two stars in the north would be larger, than the space between the same stars upon a correct map now. Now, such changes in the apparent positions of stars are actually observed. The stars do not appear in the same places now as they did a hundred years ago. The fixed stars, then, are either drifting past our solar system, which alone remains fixed; or, the fixed stars are all actually at rest, and our sun is drifting through them; or, our solar system and the so-called fixed stars are both in motion. One or other of these suppositions must be the fact. The first is simply the old Ptolemaic absurdity, only transferring the center of the universe to the sun. The second is contrary to the observed fact, that multitudes of the stars, which were supposed to be fixed, are actually revolving around each other, in systems of double, triple and multiple suns. And both are contrary to the first principles of gravitation; for, as every particle of matter attracts every other, directly as the mass, and inversely as the square of the distance, if any one particle of matter in the universe is in motion, the square of its distance from every other particle varies, and its attraction is increased in one direction, and diminished in another; and so every particle of matter in free space, as far as the force of gravitation extends, will be put in motion too. But our earth, and the planets, and the double and triple stars, are in motion, and the law of gravitation extends to every known part of the universe; therefore every known particle of matter in the universe is in motion too, our sun included. The third supposition, then, is most indisputably true; our solar system, and all the heavenly bodies, are in motion. To this conclusion all the observed facts conform. The Bible does say that the sun moves, and moves in a curve. All mathematicians prove that it must of necessity do so. All astronomers assert that it does so. The unanimous verdict of the scientific world is thus rendered by Nichol: "_As to the subject itself, the grand motion of the sun, as well as its present direction, must be received now as an established doctrine of astronomy._"[306] But the discovery was anticipated, three thousand years ago, by the Author of the Bible. But, as will readily be perceived, the difficulty of determining either the direction or the rate of this motion is immensely increased in this case; for we are now not like persons riding in a carriage, watching the fixed lights in the street to determine our direction and rate of progress; but we are watching the lamps of a multitude of carriages, moving at various distances, and with various velocities, and, for anything we can tell at first sight, in various directions. We are on board a steamer, and are watching the lights of a multitude of other steamers, also in motion; and it is not easy to find out, in the darkness, how either they or we are going. If each were pursuing its own independent course, without any common object or destination, the confusion would be so great that we could learn nothing of the rate or direction either of our own motion or theirs. But astronomers are not content to believe that the universe is governed by accident. The whole science is based upon the assumption, that a presiding mind has impressed the stamp of order and regularity upon the whole cosmos. They are deeply convinced that God's law extends to all God's creation; that all his works display his intelligence, as well as his power, and proceed according to a wise plan. Having seen that all the stellar motions previously known are orderly motions, in circular or elliptical orbits, and that the most of the solid bodies belonging to our own system revolve in one direction, they reasoned from analogy, that this might be the case with the sun and the fixed stars, and went to work with great diligence, to see whether it was or not; and, by comparing a great multitude of observations, ancient and modern, made both in the northern and southern hemispheres, and on all sorts of stars, they have come to the conclusion, that our sun, and all the bodies of the solar system, are flying northward, at the rate of three millions three hundred and thirty-six thousand geographical miles a day--five thousand times faster than a railway express train--toward the constellation Hercules, in R. A. 259° Dec. 35°. Further, as the direction of this motion is slowly and regularly changing, just as the direction of the head of a steamer in wearing, or of a railway train running a curve, it is certain that the sun is moving, not in a straight line, but in a curve. The revolution of the sun in such an orbit was known to the Author of the Bible when he wrote, "_his circuit_ is to the end of heaven." The direction of the circumference of a circle being known, that of its center can be found; for the radius is always a tangent to the circumference, and the intersection of two of these radii will be the center; so that, if we certainly knew the sun's orbit to be circular, or nearly so, we could calculate the center. But as we do not certainly know its form, we can not certainly calculate the center; we can only come near it. And as we know that the line which connects the circumference with the center of the sun's orbit, runs through the group of stars known as the Pleiades, or the Cluster; and as all the stars along that line seem to move in the same direction--a different direction from that of the stars in other regions, just as they must do if they and we were revolving around that group--Argelander and others have concluded, with a high degree of probability, that the grand center around which the sun and our firmament revolve, is that constellation which the Author of the Bible, more than three thousand years ago, called _kyme_--_the pivot_. It would require a greater knowledge of electro-magnetism than most of my readers possess, to explain the connection of the earth's rotation with the sun's grand movement. I will merely state the facts. Electro-magnetism is induced by friction. The regions of space are not empty, but filled with an ether, whose undulations produce light; and this ether is sufficiently dense to retard the motions of comets. The friction, produced by the rapid passage of the sun and solar system through this ether, must be immense, and is one source of electricity, and the principal source of electro-magnetism. This kind of electricity differs from the other kinds, in that _its action is always at right angles to the current, and tends to produce rotation in any wheel, cylinder, or sphere, along whose axis it flows_.[307] The sun, and all the planets, traveling in the direction of their poles, the current is of course in the direction of the axis; and the result is, that while the sun moves along his grand course, he and all the bodies of the system will rotate, by the influence of the electro-magnetism generated by that motion; and if he stops, his and their rotation stops too. Day and night on earth are produced by the sun's motion causing the earth's rotation. You can see the principle illustrated by the child who runs along the street with his windmill, to create a current, which will make it revolve. The Author of the Bible made no mistake when, desiring to lengthen the day, he commanded the sun to stand still. It is not the Creator, but his correctors, who are ignorant of the mechanism of the universe. Thus, these long-misunderstood and much-assailed Scriptures are not only vindicated, but far more than vindicated, by the progress of astronomical discovery. It not only proves the language of the Bible to be correct; it assures us that it is divine. The same Hand which formed the stars to guide the simple peasant to his dwelling, at the close of day, and to lead the mighty intellects of Newton and of Herschel among the mysteries of the universe, formed those expressions which, to the peasant's eye, describe the apparent reality, and, to the astronomer's reason, demonstrate the reality of the appearance of the heavens, and are thus, alike to peasant and philosopher, the _oracles of God_. Nor is this the only instance of such Bible oracles. Thousands of years before philosophers knew anything of the formation of dew, Moses described it exactly, and noticed how it differed from the rain which drops down, while the dew evaporates. "My doctrine shall drop as the rain, my speech shall _distill_ as the dew."--Deuteronomy xxxii. 2. Solomon described the cycloidal course of the wind, and recorded it in Ecclesiastes long before Admiral Fitzroy's discovery; as he also anticipated the doctrine of aqueous circulation in his pregnant proverb: "Unto the place from whence the rivers come, thither they return again."--Ecclesiastes i. 7. Job declared the law of pneumatics when he declared that "God maketh _weight_ for the winds." Long before Madler, the celebrated Russian astronomer, published his remarkable opinion: "I regard the Pleiades as the central group to the whole astral system, and the fixed stars, even to its outer limits, marked by the Milky Way; and I regard Alcyone as that star of all others, composing the group which is favored by most of the probabilities as being the true central sun of the universe," Moses tells us they were known as "the hinge, or pivot," of the heavens; and God asks, "Canst thou bind the secret influences of the Pleiades?" Though Peter was no geologist, and probably incapable of calculating the ratio of the central heat, he tells us that the heavens and the earth are "reserved unto fire," literally, "stored with fire." Equally in advance of modern medical science, thousands of years before our modern discoveries, the Author of the Bible declared that "the life is in the blood," and spoke of the slow combustion of starvation exactly in the language of the most recent physiology, "they shall be _burnt_ with hunger, and devoured with burning heat."--Deuteronomy xxxii. 24. Here we have scientific truth not discovered for centuries by our men of science, but revealed by prophets--scientific discovery, in advance of science--predictions of the future progress of the human intellect, no less than revelations of the existing motions of the stars. He who wrote these oracles knew that the creatures to whom he gave them would one day unfold their hidden meaning (else he had not so written them), and in the light of scientific discovery, see them to be as truly divine predictions of the advance of science, as the prophecies of Jeremiah and Ezekiel, read among the ruins of Thebes or Babylon, are seen to be predictions of the ruin of empires. Man's discoveries fade into insignificance in the presence of such unfolding mysteries; and we are led to our Bibles, with the prayer, "Open mine eyes, that I may behold wondrous things out of thy law." 4. The ancient charter of the Church was written in the language of one of the most recent astronomical discoveries, thirty-six hundred years before Herschel and Rosse enabled us to understand its full significance: "He brought him forth abroad, and said unto him, _Look now toward heaven, and tell the stars, if thou be able to number them: and he said unto him, So shall thy seed be._"[308] The scenery was well calculated to impress Abraham's mind with a sense of the ability of Christ to fulfill a very glorious promise, by a very improbable event; but the illustration was as well calculated as the promise to test the character of that faith which takes God's Word as sufficient evidence of things not seen; for, if the promise was a trying test of faith, so was the illustration. Before this, God had promised that his seed should be as the dust of the earth; and afterward he declared it should be as the sand of the seashore; the well-known symbol of a multitude beyond all power of calculation. To couple the stars of heaven with the sand upon the seashore in any such connection as to imply that the stars too were innumerable, or that their number came within any degree of comparison with the ocean sands, must have seemed to Abraham in the highest degree mysterious, even as it has appeared to scoffers, in modern times, utterly ridiculous; for, though the first glance at the sky conveys the impression that the stars are really innumerable, the investigations of our imperfect astronomy seem to assure us that this is by no means the case. And, as the patriarch sat, night after night, at his tent door, and, in obedience to the command of Christ, counted the stars, and made such a catalogue of them as his Chaldean preceptors had used, he would very speedily come to the conclusion, that so far as he could see, they were by no means innumerable; for the catalogue of Hipparchus reckons only one thousand and twenty-two as visible to one observer, and the whole number visible in both hemispheres by the naked eye does not exceed eight thousand.[309] And even if we suppose, that these old patriarchs had better eyes, as we know they had a clearer sky, than modern western observers, and that Abraham saw the moons of Jupiter, and stars as small, still the number would not seem in the least degree comparable with the number of the sands upon the seashore--whereof a million are contained in a cubic inch,[310] a number greater than the population of the globe in a square foot,[311] while the sum total of the human race, from Adam to this hour, would not approach to the aggregate of the sands of a single mile. Though the stars of a size too small to be visible to our eyes, are much more numerous than the larger stars, yet even up to the range of view possessed by ordinary telescopes, they are by no means innumerable. In fact, they are counted and registered, and the number of the stars of the ninth magnitude, which are four times as distant as the most distant visible to our eyes--so distant that their light is five hundred and eighty-six years in traveling toward us--is declared to be exactly thirty-seven thousand seven hundred and thirty-nine. Abraham's sense and Abraham's faith must have had many a conflict on this promise, as the faith and the sense of many of his children, especially the scientific portion of them, have since, when reading such portions as this; and those other Scriptures which represent it as an achievement of Omniscience, that "he telleth the number of the stars; he calleth them all by their names."[312] It is indeed remarkable how God delights to test the faith of his people, and to stumble the pride of fools, by presenting this mysterious truth, of the innumerable multitude of the stars, in every announcement of the wonderful works of Him who is perfect in wisdom. Infant astronomy stretched out her hands to catch the stars, and count them. Many a proud Infidel wondered that Moses could be so silly as to suppose he could not count the stars, and the believer often wondered what these words could mean. But faith rests in the persuasion of two great truths: "God is very wise," and "I am very ignorant." The increase of knowledge, by widening the boundaries of our ignorance, seemed for a time to render the difficulty even greater. The increased power of Herschel's telescope, and his discovery of the constitution of the Milky Way, mark an era in the progress of astronomy, and enlarge our views of the extent of the universe, to an extent inconceivable by those who have not studied the science. Where we see only a faint whitish cloud stretching across the sky, Herschel's telescope disclosed a vast bed of stars. At one time he counted five hundred and eighty-eight stars in the field of his telescope. In a quarter of an hour, one hundred and sixteen thousand passed before his eye. In another portion, he found three hundred and thirty-one thousand stars in a single cluster.[313] He found the whole structure of that vast luminous cloud which spans the sky, "to consist entirely of stars, _scattered by millions, like glittering dust_, on the background of the general heavens." Yet still it was not supposed to be at all impossible to estimate their numbers. Even this distinguished astronomer, a few years ago, computed it at eight or ten millions. Schroeter allowed twenty degrees of it to pass before him, and withdrew from the majestic spectacle, exclaiming, "What Omnipotence!" He calculated, however, that the number of the stars visible through one of the best telescopes in Europe, in 1840, was twelve millions; a number equaled by a single generation of Abraham's descendants, far below the power of computation, and utterly insignificant, as compared with the sands of the sea. Had our powers of observation stopped here, the great promise must still have seemed as mysterious to the astronomer, as it once seemed to the Patriarch. But if either the Father of the Faithful, or the Father of Sidereal Astronomy, had deluded himself with the notion, that he fully comprehended either the words or the works of Him who is wonderful in counsel, and excellent in working, and argued thence that, because the revealed words and the visible works seemed not to correspond, they were really contradictory, he would have committed the blunder of modern Infidels, who assume that they know everything, and that as God's knowledge can not be any greater than theirs, every Scripture which their science can not comprehend must be erroneous. The grandest truths, imperfectly perceived in the twilight of incipient science, serve as stumbling-blocks for conceited speculators, as well as landmarks on the boundaries of knowledge to true philosophers, who will ever imbibe the spirit of Newton's celebrated saying: "I seem to myself like a child gathering pebbles on the shore, while the great ocean of knowledge lies unexplored before me;" or the profound remark of Humboldt: "What is seen does not exhaust that which is perceptible." But the progress of science was not destined merely to coast the shore of this ocean. In 1845, Lord Rosse, and a band of accomplished astronomers, commenced a voyage through the immensities, with a telescope which has enlarged our view of the visible universe to one hundred and twenty-five million times the extent before perceived, and displayed far more accurately the real form and nature of objects previously seen. Herschel's researches into the Architecture of the Heavens, which have justly rendered his name immortal as the science he illustrated, had revealed the existence of great numbers of _nebulæ_--clouds of light--faint, yet distinct. He supposed many of these to consist of a luminous fluid, pretty near to us; at least, comparatively so; for to believe that they were stars, so far away as to be severally invisible in his forty feet telescope, while yet several of these clouds are distinctly seen by the naked eye, involved the belief of distances so astounding, and of multitudes so incredible, and of a degree of closeness of the several stars so unparalleled by anything which even he had observed, that his imagination and reason failed to meet the requirements of such a problem. The supposition was, however, thrown out by this gigantic intellect, that these clouds might be firmaments; that the Bible word _heavens_ might be literally plural; and more than that, he labored in the accumulation of facts which tended to confirm it. He disclosed the fact, that several of these apparent clouds, which, to very excellent telescopes, displayed only a larger surface of cloudy matter, did, in the reflector of his largest telescope, display themselves in their true character, as globular clusters, consisting of innumerable multitudes of glorious stars; and, moreover, that, stretching away far beyond star, or Milky Way, or nebulæ, he had seen, in some parts of the heavens, "a stippling," or uniform dotting of the field of view, by points of light too small to admit of any one being steadily or fixedly examined, _and too numerous for counting_, were it possible so to view them! What are these? Millions upon millions of years must have elapsed ere that faint light could reach our globe, from those profundities of space, though it travels like the lightning's flash. If they are stars, the sands of the seashore are as inferior in numbers as the surface of earth is inferior in dimensions to the arch of heaven. But if these faint dots and stipplings are not single stars!--if they are star-clouds--galaxies--firmaments, like our Milky Way--our infinity is multiplied by millions upon millions! Imagination pants, reason grows dizzy, arithmetic fails to fathom, and human eyes fear to look into the abyss. No wonder that this profound astronomer, when a glimpse of infinity flashed on his eye, retired from the telescope, trembling in every nerve, afraid to behold. And yet this astounding supposition is a literal truth; and the light of those suns, whose twilight thus bowed down that mighty intellect in reverent adoration, now shines before human eyes in all its noonday refulgence. One of the most remarkable of these nebulæ--one which is visible to a good eye in the belt of Orion--has been disclosed to the observers at Parsontown as a firmament; and minute points, scarce perceptible to common telescopes, blaze forth as magnificent clusters of glorious stars, so close and crowded, that no figure can adequately describe them, save the twin symbol of the promise, "the sand by the seashore," or "the dust of the earth." "There is a minute point, near Polaris," says Nichol, "so minute, that it requires a good telescope to discern its being. I have seen it as represented by a good mirror, blazing like a star of the first magnitude; and though examined by a potent microscope, clear and definite as the distinctest of these our nearest orbs, when beheld through an atmosphere not disturbed. Nay, through distances of an order I shall scarcely name, I have seen a mass of orbs compressed and brilliant, so that each touched on each other, _like the separate grains of a handful of sand_, and yet there seemed no melting or fusion of any one of the points into the surrounding mass. Each sparkled individually its light pure and apart, like that of any constituent of the cluster of the Pleiades."[314] "The larger and nearer masses are seen with sufficient distinctness to reveal the grand fact decisive of their character, viz: that they consist of multitudes of closely related orbs, forming an independent system. In other cases we find the individual stars by no means so clearly defined. Through effect, in all probability, of distance, the intervals between them appear much less, the shining points themselves being also fainter; while the masses still further off _may be best likened to a handful of golden sand, or, as it is aptly termed, star dust_; beyond which no stars, or any vestige of them, are seen, but only a patch or streak of milky light, similar to the unresolved portions of our surrounding zone."[315] To say, then, that the stars of the sky are actually innumerable is only a cold statement of the plainest fact. Hear it in the language of one privileged to behold the glories of one out of the thousands of similar firmaments: "The mottled region forming the lighter part of the mass (the nebula in Orion) is a very blaze of stars. But that stellar creation, now that we are freed from all dubiety concerning the significance of those hazes that float numberless in space, how glorious, how endless! Behold, amid that limitless ocean, every speck, however remote or dim, a noble galaxy. Lustrous they are, too; in manifold instances beyond all neighboring reality--beyond the loftiest dream which ever exercised the imagination. The great cluster in Hercules has long dazzled the heart with its splendors, but we have learned now that among circular and compact galaxies, a class to which the nebulous stars belong, there are multitudes which infinitely surpass it--nay, that schemes of being rise above it, sun becoming nearer to sun, until their skies must be one blaze of light--a throng of burning activities! But, far aloft stands Orion, the pre-eminent glory and wonder of the starry universe! Judged by the only criticism yet applicable, it is perhaps so remote that its light does not reach us in less than fifty or sixty thousand years; and as at the same time it occupies so large an apparent portion of the heavens, how stupendous must be the extent of the nebula. It would seem almost as if all the other clusters hitherto gauged were collected and compressed into one, they would not surpass this mighty group, _in which every wisp--every wrinkle--is a sand-heap of stars_. There are cases in which, though imagination has quailed, reason may still adventure inquiry, and prolong its speculations; but at times we are brought to a limit across which no human faculty has the strength to penetrate, and where, as now, at the very footstool of the secret THRONE, we can only bend our heads, and silently _adore_. And from the inner Adyta--the invisible shrine of what alone is and endures--a voice is heard: "Hast thou an arm like God? Canst thou thunder with a voice like Him? Canst thou bind the sweet influences of the Pleiades, Or loosen the bands of Orion? Canst thou bring forth Mazzaroth in his seasons? Canst thou guide Arcturus and his sons?[316] He telleth the number of the stars: He calleth them all by their names. Great is our Lord, and of great power; His understanding is infinite."[317] Thus, nobly does science vindicate Scripture, and display the wisdom and power of the Lord of Hosts, whose kingdom extends through all space, and endures through all duration. He who called these countless hosts of glorious orbs into being is abundantly able to multiply, to an equally incalculable number, the humble sands which line the oceans of terrestrial grace, the brilliant stars which shall yet adorn the heavens of celestial glory. All, of every nation, who shall partake of Abraham's faith, are Abraham's children. They are Christ's, and so Abraham's seed, and heirs, according to this promise.[318] When the great multitude, which no man can number, out of every nation, and tongue, and people, stand before the throne of God, and cause the many mansions of our Father's house to re-echo the shout, "Salvation to our God which sitteth on the throne, and to the Lamb," the answering hallelujahs of the most distant orbs shall expound the purport of that solemn oath to Abraham and Abraham's seed: "By myself have I sworn, saith the Lord, for because thou hast done this thing, and hast not withheld thy son, thine only son, that in blessing I will bless thee, and _in multiplying I will multiply thy seed as the stars of heaven, and as the sand which is upon the seashore_."[319] 5. It is not probable that the mysteries of the distant heavens, _or of those future glories of the redeemed which the Bible employs them to symbolize_, will ever be fully explored by man, or adequately apprehended in the present state of being. But it is most certain that God would not have employed the mysteries of astronomy so frequently as the symbols of the mysteries of the glory to be revealed, had there not been some correspondence between the things which eye hath not seen, and these patterns shown in the mount. So habitual, indeed, is the Scripture use of these visible heavens as the types of all that is exalted, pure, cheering, and glorious, that, to most Christians, the word has lost its primary meaning, and the idea first suggested to their minds by the word _heaven_ is that of future glory; yet their views of the locality and physical adornments of the many mansions of their Father's house are dim and shadowy, just because they do not acquaint themselves sufficiently with the divine descriptions in the Bible, and the divine illustrations in the sky. The Bible would be better understood were the heavens better explored. "I go," said Jesus, "to prepare a _place_ for you." The bodies of the saints, raised on the resurrection morn, will need a _place_ on which to stand. The body of the Lord, which his disciples handled, and "saw that a spirit had not flesh and bones, as they saw him have," is now resident in a place. Where He is, there shall his people be also. Why, then, when the Bible employs all that is beauteous in earth, and glorious in heaven, to describe the adornments of the palace of the King of kings, should we hesitate to believe that the power and wisdom of God are not exhausted in this little earth of ours, but that other worlds may as far transcend ours in glory, as many of them do in magnitude?--or, to allow that the glorious visions of Ezekiel and John were not views of nonentities, or mere visions of clouds, or of some incomprehensible symbols of more incomprehensible spiritualities, but actual views of the existing glories of some portion of the universe, presented to us as vividly as the dullness of our minds and the earthliness of our speech will permit? It is certain that the recent progress of astronomical discovery has revealed celestial scenery which illustrates some of the most mysterious of these visions. It has long been known, that "one star differeth from another star in glory," and that the orbs of heaven shine with various colors. Sirius is white, Arcturus red, and Procyon yellow. The telescope shows all the smaller stars in various colors. Under the clear skies of Syria their brilliance is vastly greater than in our climate. "_One star shines like a ruby, another as an emerald, and the whole heavens sparkle as with various gems._"[320] But the discovery of the double and triple stars has added a new harmony of colors to these coronets of celestial jewels. These stars generally display the complementary colors. If the one star displays a color from the red end of the spectrum, the other is generally of the corresponding shade, from the violet end. For instance, in O2 Cygni, the large star is yellow, and the two smaller stars are blue; and so in others, through all the colors of the rainbow. "It may be easier suggested in words," says Sir John Herschel, "than conceived in imagination, what a variety of illumination two stars--a red and a green, or a yellow and a blue one--must afford a planet circulating around either, and what cheering contrasts and grateful vicissitudes a red and a green day, for instance, alternating with a white one, and with darkness, must arise from the presence or absence of one, or other, or both, from the horizon."[321] But suppose one of the globular clusters--for instance, that in the constellation Hercules--thus constituted; its unnumbered thousands of suns, wheeling round central worlds, and exhibiting their glories to their inhabitants; "skies blazing, with grand orbs scattered regularly around, and with a profusion to which our darker heavens are strangers;" the overhead sky, seen from the interior regions of the cluster, _must appear gorgeous beyond description_. In the strictest literality it might be said to the dwellers in such a cluster, "Thy sun shall no more go down, neither shall thy moon withdraw herself." The surrounding walls of such a celestial palace must seem indeed "garnished with all manner of precious stones." Sapphire, emerald, sardius, chrysolite, and pearl, must seem but dim mirrors of its glorious refulgence. Under its ever rising suns the gates need not be shut at all by day, "for there shall be no night there." That glorious place now exists, though far away. But the Lord of these hosts has said, "Behold, I come quickly." He will not tarry. A thousand times faster than the swiftest chariot, our solar system and the surrounding firmament wing their flight toward that same glorious cluster in Hercules. As our firmament approaches, under the guidance of Omnipotent wisdom, it too must fly to meet our sun, with a velocity increasing with an incalculable ratio. The celestial city will then be seen to descend from heaven. Once within the sphere of its attractions, our sun and surrounding planets will feel their power. Their ancient orbits and accustomed revolutions must give way to the higher power. Old things must pass away, and all things become new. A new heaven, no less than a new earth, will form the dwelling of righteousness. These are no longer the visions of prophecy merely, but the sober calculations of mathematical science, based upon a foundation as solid as the attraction of gravitation, and as wide as the existence of that ether whose undulations convey the light of the most distant stars; for, so surely as that attraction is efficient, must all the firmaments of the heavens be drawn more closely together; and as certainly as they revolve not in empty space, but in a medium capable of retarding Encke's comet three days in every revolution, must that retarding medium bring their revolutions to a close. "And so," said Herschel, casting his eye fearlessly toward future infinities, "we may be certain that the stars in the Milky Way will be gradually compressed, through successive stages of accumulation, until they come up to what may be called the ripening period of the globular cluster." Unnumbered ages may be occupied with such a grand evolution of celestial progress, beyond our power of calculation; but will the changes of created things, even then, have come to an end? Hear again the voice, not of the prophet, but of the astronomer: "Around us lie stabilities of every order; but it is _stability_ only that we see, not _permanence_." As the course of our inquiry has already amply illustrated, even majestic systems, that at first appear final and complete, are found to resolve themselves into mere steps or phases of still loftier progress. Verily, it is an astonishing world! Change rising above change--cycle growing out of cycle, in majestic progression--each new one ever widening, like the circles that wreathe from a spark of flame, enlarging as they ascend, finally to become lost in the empyrean! And if all that we see, from earth to sun, and from sun to universal star-work--that wherein we best behold images of eternity, immortality and God--if that is only a state or space of a course of being rolling onward evermore, what must be the Creator, the Preserver, the Guide of all!--He at whose bidding these phantasms came from nothingness, and shall again disappear;--whose name, amid all things, alone is _Existence_--I AM THAT I AM? "Of old hast thou laid the foundations of the earth, And the heavens are the works of thy hands; They shall perish, But thou shalt endure; Yea, all of them shall wax old like a garment: As a vesture shalt thou change them, and they shall be changed; But thou art the same, And thy years shall have no end. The children of thy servants shall continue, And their seed shall be established before thee." Psalm cii. 25 "And I saw a new heaven, and a new earth; For the first heaven and the first earth were passed away, And there was no more sea. And I John saw the holy city, New Jerusalem, Coming down from God out of heaven, Prepared as a bride adorned for her husband. And I heard a great voice out of heaven, saying, Behold the tabernacle of God is with men, And he will dwell with them, And they shall be his people, And God himself shall be with them, and be their God." Revelation xxi. * * * * * Reader, is this glorious heaven your inheritance? Is this unchangeable Jehovah your God? Are you looking for and hasting unto the coming of the day of God? Is it your daily prayer, Even so, Lord Jesus, come quickly? FOOTNOTES: [283] Kendall's Uranography, 268. [284] Annual of Scientific Discovery, 1856, p. 380. [285] Ibid. 1852, p. 376. [286] Ibid. 1856, p. 377. [287] Cosmos, Vol. I. pp. 198-215. [288] Judges, chap. v. [289] Jeremiah, chap. x. [290] Some of my readers may deem any notice of such a subject, in the nineteenth century, entirely unnecessary; but having lived for some years within sight of the dwelling of a woman who publicly advertised herself in the newspapers as a professor of astrology, and seen the continual flow of troubled minds to the promised light--the humble serving-girl stealing up the side entrance, and the princely chariot discharging its willing dupes at the door, and rolling hastily away, to await them at the corner--I know of a certainty that folly is not yet dead. There are women, aye, and men too, who are above the folly of reading the Bible, but just wise enough to pay five dollars for, and spend hours in the study of an uncouth astrological picture, representing a collocation of the stars, which was never witnessed by any astronomer. There are men who would not give way to the superstition of supposing that their destiny was regulated by the will of Almighty God, yet who believe that every living creature's fate is regulated by the aspect of the stars at the hour of his nativity; the same stars always causing the same period of life and mode of death; though every day's experience testifies the contrary. The same stars presided over the birth of the poor soldier, who perished in an instant at Austerlitz; of his imperial master, who pined for years in St. Helena; of the old gentleman who died in his own bed, of gout; and of the batch of puppies, whereof old Towser was the only surviving representative, the other nine having found their fate in the horse-pond, in defiance of the controlling stars. They were all born at the same hour, and under the same auspices, and destined to the same fate, by the laws of astrology. Yet half a dozen professors of astrology find patrons enough in each of our great cities to enable them to live and to pay for advertising in the daily papers. [291] Judges, chap. v. [292] Dick's Celestial Scenery, p. 57, Applegate's edition, where many such instances are related. [293] Vaughn's Report to the American Association for the Advancement of Science, in Annual of Scientific Discovery for 1855, p. 364. [294] Somerville's Connection of the Physical Sciences, 382. [295] Cosmos, Vol. I. p. 122; Vol. IV. p. 569. [296] Somerville's Connection of the Physical Sciences, 383. [297] Annual of Scientific Discovery, 1854, p. 361. [298] Letter to Herschel, from Oroomiah, in Persia--Annual of Scientific Discovery, 1854, p. 367. [299] _Life and Work in the Great Pyramid_, by Piazzi Smyth, F. R. S., LL. D. [300] "These tablets (of unbaked clay, with inscriptions, found in the tombs of Erech, the city of Nimrod--Genesis, chap. x. 10--and deciphered by Rawlinson) were, in point of fact, the equivalent of our bank notes, and prove that a system of artificial currency prevailed in Babylon and Persia at an unprecedentedly early age; centuries before the introduction of paper and writing." _Rawlinson, in News of the Churches, February, 1858, p. 50._ [301] Wilkinson's Manners and Customs of the Egyptians, Vol. III. p. 106; Cosmos, Vol. I. pp. 173, 182; Chinese Repository, Vol. IX. p. 573; Williams' Middle Kingdom, Vol. II. p. 147. [302] Somerville's Connection of Physical Sciences, 82. [303] Daniel, chap. xii. 8. 1 Peter, chap. i. 10. Ephesians, chap. i. 3. [304] Psalm xl. 1, and xxxvii. 23, margin. [305] M. Voltaire; M. Cheneviere; Theol. Essays, Vol. I. p. 456. [306] Humboldt's Cosmos, Vol. I. p. 139; Herschel's Outlines, 380; Kendall's Uranography, 205. [307] Somerville's Connection of the Physical Sciences, 171, 337, 315; Architecture of the Heavens, 286. [308] Genesis, chap. xv. 5. [309] Cosmos I. 140. [310] Ehrenberg computes that there are forty-one millions of the shells of animalculæ in a cubic inch of Bilier Slate. [311] Annual of Scientific Discovery, 1860, p. 341. [312] Psalm cxlvii. 4. [313] Dick's Sidereal Heavens, 59; Herschel's Outlines. [314] Architecture of the Heavens, 62. [315] Architecture of the Heavens, 64. These unresolved milky streaks and patches have since been discovered to be true nebulæ, or phosphoric clouds, in some way connected with their adjacent stars. [316] Architecture of the Heavens, 144. [317] Job, chap. xxxviii. 31. Psalm cxlvii. 4. [318] Genesis, chap. xxii. 16. [319] Galatians, chap. iii. 14, 29. Gen. xxii. 16, 17. [320] Architecture of the Heavens, 217. [321] Architecture of the Heavens, 77, 130. CHAPTER XIII. SCIENCE, OR FAITH? "Faith is destined to be left behind in the onward march of the human intellect. It belongs to an infantile stage of intellectual development, when experience, dependent on testimony, becomes the slave of credulity. Children and childish nations are prone to superstition. Religion belongs properly to such. Hence the endless controversies of religious sects. But as man advances into the knowledge of the physical sciences, and becomes familiarized with mathematical demonstration and scientific experiment, he demands substantial proofs for all kinds of knowledge, and rejects that which is merely matter of faith. The certainties of science succeed the controversies of creeds. Science thus becomes the grave of religion, as religion is vulgarly understood. But science gives a new and better religion to the world. Instead of filling men's minds with the vague terrors of an unknown futurity, it directs us to the best modes of improving this life."--"This life being the first in certainty, give it the first place in importance; and by giving human duties in reference to men the _precedence_, secure that all interpretations of spiritual duty shall be in harmony with human progress."--"Nature refers us to science for help, and to humanity for sympathy; love to the lovely is our only homage, study our only praise, quiet submission to the inevitable our duty; and truth is our only worship."--"Our _knowledge_ is confined to this life; and _testimony_, and _conjecture_, and _probability_, are all that can be set forth in regard to another."--"Preach nature and science, morality and art; _nature, the only subject of knowledge_; morality, the harmony of action; art, the culture of the individual and society."[322] Or, if you will insist upon preaching religion, support it "with such proofs as accompany physical science. This I have always loved; for I never find it deceives me. I rest upon it with entire conviction. There is no mistake, and can be no dispute in mathematics. And if a revelation comes from God, why have we not such evidence for it as mathematical demonstration?" Such is the language now used by a large class of half-educated people, who, deriving their philosophy from Comte, and their religion from the _Westminster Review_, invite us to spend our Sabbaths in the study of nature in the fields and museums, turn our churches into laboratories, exchange our Bibles for encyclopedias, give ourselves no more trouble about religion, but try hard to learn as much science, make as much money, and enjoy as much pleasure in this life as we can; because we _know_ that we live now, and can only _believe_ that we shall live hereafter. I do not propose to take any notice here of the proposal of Secularism--for that is the new name of this ungodliness--to deliver men from their lusts by scientific lectures, and keep them moral by overturning religion. That experiment has been tried already. But it is worth while to inquire, Is science really so positive, and religion so uncertain, as these persons allege? Is a knowledge of the physical sciences so all-sufficient for our present happiness, so attainable by all mankind, and so certain and infallible, that we should barter our immortality for it? And, on the other hand, are the great facts of religious experience, and the foundations of our religious faith, so dim, and vague, and utterly uncertain, that we may safely consign them to oblivion, or that we can so get rid of them if we would? The object of this chapter is to refute both parts of the Secularist's statement; to show some of the uncertainties, errors, contradictions, and blunders of the scientific men on whose testimony they receive their science; and to exhibit a few of the facts of religious experience which give a sufficient warrant for the Christian's faith. Scientific observations are made by fallible men exposed to every description of error, prejudice and mistake; men who can not possibly divest themselves of their preconceived opinions in observing facts, and framing theories. Lord Bacon long ago observed that "the eye of the human intellect is not dry, but receives a suffusion from the will and the affections, so that it may be almost said to engender any science it pleases. For what a man wishes to be true, that he prefers believing." "If the human intellect hath once taken a liking to any doctrine, either because received and credited, or because otherwise pleasing, it draws everything else into harmony with that doctrine, and to its support; and albeit there may be found a more powerful array of contradictory instances, these, however, it does not observe, or it contemns, or by distinction extenuates, and rejects."[323] A prejudiced observer sees the facts distorted and exaggerated. "Thus it is that men will not see in the phenomena what alone is to be seen; in their observations they interpolate and expunge; and this mutilated and adulterated product they call a fact. And why? Because the real phenomena, if admitted, would spoil the pleasant music of their thoughts, and convert its factitious harmony into a discord. In consequence of this many a system professing to be reared exclusively on observation and fact, rests, in reality, mainly upon hypothesis and fiction. A pretended experience is indeed the screen behind which every illusive doctrine regularly retires. 'There are more false facts,' says Cullen, 'current in the world than false theories.' Fact, observation, induction, have always been the watchwords of those who have dealt most extensively in fancy."[324] We propose, therefore, to show that, _I. The students of the physical sciences have no such certain knowledge of their facts and theories as Secularists pretend._ 1. Mathematical science relating merely to abstract truth is supposed to possess powers of demonstration, and capability of scientific certainty superior to all other kinds of knowledge, but the moment we begin to apply it to any existing facts we enter the domain of liability to errors as numerous as our fallible observations of these facts; and when we attempt to apply mathematical demonstration to the infinite, and to enter the domain of faith, in which as immortals we are chiefly concerned, it baffles, deceives, and insults our reason. Take the following illustrations: Let an infinite whole be divided into halves; the parts must be either finite or infinite. But they can not be finite, else an infinite whole would consist of a finite number of parts; neither can they be infinite, being each less than the infinite whole. Again: it is mathematically demonstrable, that any piece of matter is infinitely divisible. A line therefore of half an inch long is infinitely divisible, or divisible into an infinite number of parts. Thus we have an infinite half inch. Further, for a moving body to pass a given point requires some time; and to pass an infinite number of points must require an infinite number of portions of time, or an eternity; therefore, as half an inch contains an infinite number of points, it will require eternity to pass half an inch. Again: it is mathematically demonstrable, that a straight line, the asymptote of a hyperbola, may _eternally approach_ the curve of the hyperbola and _never meet_ it. But no axiom can be plainer than that if two lines continually approach each other they must at length meet. Here is a demonstration contradicting an axiom; and no man has ever yet shown the possibilities of reconciling them, nor yet of denying either side of the contradiction. Again: it is a fundamental axiom, contained in the definition of a circle, that it must have a center; but the non-existence of this center is mathematically demonstrable, as follows: Let the diameter of the circle be bisected into two equal parts; the center must be in one, or the other, of these parts, or between them. It can not be in one of these parts, for they are equal; and, therefore, if it is in the one, it must also be in the other, and thus the circle would have two centers, which is absurd. Neither can it be between them, for they are in contact. Therefore the center must be a point, destitute of extension, something which does not occupy or exist in space. But as all existences exist in space, and this supposed center does not, it can not be an existence; therefore it is a non-existence. In like manner it has been mathematically demonstrated,[325] that motion, or any change in the rate of progress in a moving body, is impossible; because in passing from any one degree of rapidity to another, all the intermediate degrees must be passed through. As when a train of cars moving four miles an hour strikes a train at rest, the resulting instantaneous motion is two miles an hour; and the first train must therefore be moving at the rate of four, and at the rate of two miles an hour at the same time, which is impossible. And so the ancients demonstrated the impossibility of motion. Thus the non-existence of the most undeniable truths, and the impossibilities of the most common facts are mathematically demonstrable; and the proper refutation of such reasoning is, not the scientific, but the common sensible; as when Plato refuted the demonstration of the impossibility of motion, by getting up and walking across the floor. In the hyperbola we have the mathematical demonstration of the error of an axiom. In the infinite inch we behold an absurdity mathematically demonstrated. So that it appears we can give mathematical demonstration in support of untruth, impossibilities and absurdities; and our reason can not discover the error of the reasoning! Alas, for poor humanity, if an endless destiny depended upon such scientific certainty! Yet mathematical reasoning about abstract truth is universally conceded to be less liable to error than any other form of scientific analysis. This line, then, is too short to fathom the ocean of destiny; too weak to bear inferences from even the facts of common life. Attempts have indeed been made to apply mathematics to the facts of life in what is called the doctrine of chances. By this kind of calculation it can be shown, that the chances were a thousand millions to one that you and I should never have been born. Yet here we are. But when we begin to apply mathematics to the affairs of every-day life, we immediately multiply our chances of error by the number and complexity of these facts. The proper field of mathematics is that of magnitude and numbers. But very few subjects are capable of a mathematical demonstration. _No fact_ whatever which depends on the will of God or man can be so proved. For mathematical demonstration is founded on necessary and eternal relations, and admits of no contingencies in its premises. The mathematician may demonstrate the size and properties of a triangle, but he can not demonstrate the continuance of any actual triangle for one hour, or one minute, after his demonstration. And if he could, how many of my most important affairs can I submit to the multiplication table, or lay off in squares and triangles? It deals with purely ideal figures, which never did or could exist. There is not a mathematical line--length without breadth--in the universe. When we come to the application of mathematics, we are met at once by the fact that there are no mathematical figures in nature. It is true we speak of the orbits of the planets as elliptical or circular, but it is only in a general way, as we speak of a circular saw, the outline of its teeth being regularity itself compared with the perturbations of the planets. We speak of the earth as a spheroid, but it is a spheroid pitted with hollows as deep as the ocean, and crusted with irregular protuberances as vast as the Himalaya and the Andes, in every conceivable irregularity of form. Its seas, coasts, and rivers follow no straight lines nor geometrical curves. There is not an acre of absolutely level ground on the face of the earth; and even its waters will pile themselves up in waves, or dash into breakers, rather than remain perfectly level for a single hour. Its minuter formations present the same regular irregularity of form. Even the crystals, which approach the nearest of any natural productions to mathematical figures, break with compound irregular fractures at their bases of attachment. The surface of the pearl is proportionally rougher than the surface of the earth, and the dew-drop is not more spherical than a pear. As nature then gives no mathematical figures, mathematical measurements of such figures can be only approximately applied to natural objects. The utter absence of any regularity, or assimilation to the spheroidal figure, either in meridianal, equatorial, or parallel lines, mountain ranges, sea beaches, or courses of rivers, is fatal to mathematical accuracy in the more extended geographical measurements. It is only by taking the mean of a great many measurements that an approximate accuracy can be obtained. Where this is not possible, as in the case of the measurements of high mountains, the truth remains undetermined by hundreds of feet; or, as in the case of the earth's spheroidal axis, Bessel's measurement differs from Newton's, by fully eleven miles.[326] The smaller measures are proportionately as inaccurate. No field, hill, or lake, has an absolute mathematical figure; but its outline is composed of an infinite multitude of irregular curves too minute for man's vision to discover, and too numerous for his intellect to estimate. No natural figure was ever measured with absolute accuracy. All the resources of mathematical science were employed by the constructors of the French Metric System; but the progress of science in seventy years has shown that _every element_ of their calculations was erroneous. They tried to measure a quadrant of the earth's circumference, supposing the meridian to be circular; but Schubert has shown that that is far from being the case; and that no two meridians are alike; and Sir John Herschel, and the best geologists, show cause to believe that the form of the globe is constantly changing; so that the ancient Egyptians acted wisely in selecting the axis of the earth's rotation, which is invariable, and not the changing surface of the earth, as their standard of measure. The Astronomer Royal, Piazzi Smyth, thus enumerates the errors of practice, which they added to those of their erroneous theory: "Their trigonometrical survey for their meter length has been found erroneous, so that their meter is no longer sensibly a meter; and their standard temperature of 0° centigrade is upset one way for the length of their scale, and another way for the density of the water employed; and their mode of computing the temperature correction is proved erroneous; and their favorite natural reference of a quadrant of the earth is not found a scientific feature capable of serving the purpose they have been employing it for; and even their own sons show some dislike to adopt it fully, and adhere to as much of the ancient system as they can."[327] But coming down to more practical and every-day calculations, in which money is invested, how very erroneous are the calculations of our best engineers, and how fatal their results. Nineteen serious errors were discovered in an edition of _Taylor's Logarithms_, printed in 1796; some of which might have led to the most dangerous results in calculating a ship's place, and were current for thirty-six years. In 1832 the _Nautical Almanac_ published a correction which was itself erroneous by one second, and a new correction was necessary the next year. But in making this correction a _new error was committed of ten degrees_.[328] Who knows how many ships were run ashore by that error? Nor can our American mathematicians boast of superior infallibility to the French or British. In computing the experiments which were made at Lowell (for a new turbine wheel), it was found that when the gate was fully open, the quantity of water discharged through the guides was _seventy per cent. of the theoretical discharge_. (An error of thirty per cent.) The effect of the wheel during these experiments was eighty-one and a half per cent. of the power expended; but when the gate was half open the effect was sixty-seven per cent. of the power, while the discharge through the guides eleven per cent. more than the theoretical discharge. But when the opening of the gate was still further reduced to one-fourth of the full opening, the effect was also reduced to forty-five per cent. of the power, while the discharging velocity was raised to _forty-nine per cent. more than that given by the theory_.[329] An unscientific man would hardly call that good guessing; but it was the best result of labored and expensive scientific calculation. No wonder the _London Mechanics' Magazine_ says: "More can be learned in this way (testing engines in the workshop) in half an hour, than can be derived from the theoretical instructions, however good, in a year." So much for the infallibility of a mathematical demonstration. In regard even to the very limited circle of our relations which can be measured by the foot rule, and the small number of our anxieties which may be resolved by an equation, if by mathematical accuracy be meant anything more than tolerable correctness, or by mathematical demonstration a very high degree of probability, mathematical certainty is all a fable. 2. _Astronomy._ The omniscience and prescience of the human intellect have been largely glorified by some Infidel lecturers, upon the strength of the accuracy with which it is possible to calculate and predict eclipses, and to the disparagement of Bible predictions. And this glorification has been amazingly swollen by Le Verrier's prediction in 1846 of the discovery of the planet Neptune. But the prediction of some unknown motion would form a more correct basis for a comparison of the prophecies of science with those of Scripture; such, for instance, as Immanuel Kant's prediction of the period of Saturn's rotation at six hours twenty-three minutes fifty-three seconds; "which mathematical calculation of an unknown motion of a heavenly body," he says, "_is the only prediction of that kind in pure Natural Philosophy_, and awaits confirmation at a future period." It is a pity that this unique scientific prediction should not have had better luck, for the encouragement of other guessers; but after waiting long and vainly, for the expected confirmation, it was finally falsified by Herschel's discovery of spots on the surface of the planet, and observation of the true time, ten hours sixteen minutes forty-four seconds.[330] This, however, was not his only astronomical prediction. He predicted that immense bodies in a transition state between planets and comets, and of very eccentric orbits, would be found beyond the orbit of Saturn, and intersecting it, but no such bodies have been discovered. Uranus and Neptune have no cometary character whatever, their orbits are less eccentric than others and do not intersect, nor approach within millions of miles of Saturn's orbit. The verification of Le Verrier's prediction affords even a more satisfactory proof of the necessarily conjectural character of astronomical computations of unknown quantities and distances. The planet Neptune has not one-half the mass which he had calculated; his orbit, which was calculated as very elliptical, is nearly circular; and the error of the calculation of his distance is three hundred millions of miles![331] "Let us then be candid," says Loomis, "and claim no more for astronomy than is reasonably due. When in 1846 Le Verrier announced the existence of a planet hitherto unseen, and when he assigned it its exact position in the heavens, and declared that it shone like a star of the eighth magnitude, and with a perceptible disc, _not an astronomer of France, and scarce an astronomer in Europe, had sufficient faith in the prediction to prompt him to point his telescope to the heavens_. But when it was announced that the planet had been seen at Berlin, that it was found within one degree of the computed place, that it was indeed a star of the eighth magnitude, and had a sensible disc--then the enthusiasm not only of the public generally, but of astronomers also, was even more wonderful than their former apathy. The sagacity of Le Verrier was felt to be almost superhuman. Language could scarce be found strong enough to express the general admiration. The praise then lavished upon Le Verrier was somewhat extravagant. _The singularly close agreement between the observed and computed places of the planet was accidental._ So exact a coincidence could not reasonably have been anticipated. If the planet had been found even ten degrees from what Le Verrier assigned as its probable place, _this discrepancy would have surprised no astronomer_. The discovery would still have been one of the most remarkable events in the history of astronomy, and Le Verrier would have merited the title of First Astronomer of the age."[332] Nevertheless, astronomy from the comparative simplicity of the bodies and forces with which it has to deal, and the approximate regularity of the paths of the heavenly bodies, may be regarded as the science in which the greatest possible certainty is attainable. It opens at once the widest field to the imagination, and the noblest range to the reason; it has attracted the most exalted intellects to its pursuit, and has rewarded their toils with the grandest discoveries. These discoveries have been grossly abused by inferior minds, ascribing to the discoverers of the laws of the universe the glory due to their Creator; and boasting of the power of the human mind, as if it were capable of exploring the infinite in space, and of calculating the movements of the stars through eternity. Persons who could not calculate an eclipse to save their souls, have risked them upon the notion that, because astronomers can do so with considerable accuracy, farmers ought to reject the Bible, unless its predictions can be calculated by algebra. It may do such persons good, or at least prevent them from doing others harm, to take a cursory view of the errors of astronomers; errors necessary as well as accidental. Sir John Herschel, than whom none has a better right to speak on this subject, and whose devotion to that noble science precludes all supposition of prejudice against it, devotes a chapter to _The Errors of Astronomy_,[333] which he classifies and enumerates: "I. External causes of error, comprehending such as depend on external uncontrollable circumstances; such as fluctuations of weather, which disturb the amount of refraction from its tabulated value, and being reducible to no fixed laws, induce uncertainty to the amount of their own possible magnitude. "II. Errors of observation; such as arise for instance from inexpertness, defective vision, slowness in seizing the exact instant of the occurrence of a phenomenon, or precipitancy in anticipating it; from atmospheric indistinctness, insufficient optical power in the instrument, and the like. "III. The third, and by far the most numerous class of errors, arise from causes which may be deemed instrumental, and which may be divided into two classes. "The first arises from an instrument not being what it professes to be, which is _error of workmanship_. Thus if an axis or pivot, instead of being as it ought, exactly cylindrical, be slightly flattened or elliptical--if it be not exactly concentric with the circle which it carries--if this circle so called be in reality not exactly circular--or not in one plane--if its divisions, intended to be precisely equidistant, shall be in reality at unequal intervals--_and a hundred other things of the same sort_. "The other subdivision of instrumental errors comprehends such as arise from an instrument not being placed in the position it ought to have; and from those of its parts which are made purposely movable not being properly disposed, _inter se_. These are _errors of adjustment_. Some are unavoidable, as they arise from a general unsteadiness of the soil or building in which the instruments are placed.[334] Others again are consequences of imperfect workmanship; as when an instrument, once well adjusted, will not remain so. But the most important of this class of errors arise from the non-existence of natural indications other than those afforded by astronomical observations themselves, whether an instrument has, or has not, the exact position with respect to the horizon, and the cardinal points, etc., which it ought to have, properly to fulfill its object. "Now, with regard to the first two classes of error, it must be observed, that in so far as they can not be reduced to known laws, and thereby become the subjects of calculation and due allowance, _they actually vitiate in their full extent the results of any observations in which they subsist_. With regard to errors of adjustment, not only the possibility, _but the certainty of their existence in every imaginable form, in all instruments_, must be contemplated. _Human hands or machines never formed a circle, drew a straight line, or executed a perpendicular, nor ever placed an instrument in perfect adjustment, unless accidentally, and then only during an instant of time._" The bearing of these important and candid admissions of error in astronomical observations upon all kinds of other observations made by mortal eyes, and with instruments framed by human hands, in every department of science, is obvious. No philosophical observation or experiment is absolutely accurate, or can possibly be more than tolerably near the truth. The error of a thousandth part of an inch in an instrument will multiply itself into thousands, and millions of miles, according to the distance of the object, or the profundity of the calculation. Our faith in the absolute infallibility of scientific observers, and consequently in the absolute certainty of science, being thus rudely upheaved from its very foundations by Sir John Herschel's crowbar, we are prepared to learn that scientific men have made errors great and numerous. To begin at home, with our own little globe, where certainty is much more attainable than among distant stars, we have seen that astronomers of the very highest rank are by no means agreed as to its diameter. Its precise form is equally difficult to determine. Newton showed that an ellipsoid of revolution should differ from a sphere by a compression of 1/230. The mean of a number of varying measurements of arcs, in five different places, would give 1/299. The pendulum measurement differs very considerably from both, and "no two sets of pendulum experiments give the same result."[335] The same liability to error, and uncertainty of the actual truth, attends the other modes of ascertaining this fundamental measurement. A very small error here will vitiate all other astronomical calculations; for the earth's radius, and the radius of its orbit, are the foot-rule and surveyor's chain with which the astronomer measures the heavens. But this last and most used standard is uncertain; and of the nine different estimates, it is certain that eight must be wrong; and probably that all are erroneous. For example, Encke, in 1761, gives the earth's distance from the sun at 95,141,830 Encke, in 1769, 95,820,610 Lacaille, 76,927,900 Henderson, 90,164,110 Gillies and Gould, 96,160,000 Mayer, 104,097,100 Le Verrier, 91,066,350 Sir John Herschel, 91,718,000 Humboldt, 82,728,000[336] Here now is the fundamental standard measure of astronomy; and nine first-class astronomers are set to determine its length; but their measurements range all the way from seventy-seven to one hundred and four millions of miles--a difference of nearly one-fourth. Why the old-fashioned finger and thumb measure used before the carpenter's two-foot rule was invented never made such discrepancies; it could always make a foot within an inch more or less; but our scientific measurers, it seems, can not guess within two inches on the foot. Their smaller measurements are equally inaccurate. Lias says the Aurora Borealis is only two and a half miles high; Hood and Richardson make its height double that, or five miles; Olmsted and Twining run it up to forty-two, one hundred, and one hundred and sixty miles![337] When they are thus inaccurate in the measurement of a phenomenon so near the earth, how can we believe in the infallibility of their measurements of the distances of the stars and the nebulæ in the distant heavens? The moon is the nearest to us of all the heavenly bodies, and exercises the greatest influence of any, save the sun, upon our crops, ships, health and lives, and consequently has had a larger share of astronomical attention than any other celestial body. But the most conflicting statements are made by astronomers regarding her state and influences. There is no end to the controversy whether the moon influences the weather; though one would think that question, being rather a terrestrial one, could easily be decided. Schwabe says Herschel is wrong in saying that the years of most solar spots were fruitful; but Wolf looks up the Zurich meteorological tables, and confirms Herschel. In _Ferguson's Astronomy_, the standard text-book of its day, we are informed that "Some of her mountains (the moon's) by comparing their height with her diameter, are found to be three times higher than the highest hills on earth." They would thus be over fifteen miles high. But Sir Wm. Herschel assures us that "The generality do not exceed half a mile in their general elevation." _Transactions of the Royal Society_, May 11, 1780. Beer and Madler have measured thirty-nine whose height they assure us exceed Mont Blanc. But M. Gussew, of the Imperial Observatory at Wilna, describes to us, "a mountain mass in the form of a meniscus lens, rising in the middle to a height of seventy-nine English miles."[338] As this makes the moon lopsided, with the heavy side toward the earth, the question of an atmosphere, and of the moon's inhabitability is reopened; and the discussion seems to favor the man in the moon; only he keeps on the other side always, so that we can not see him. The best astronomers have gravely calculated the most absurd problems--for instance the projection of meteorites from lunar volcanoes; Poisson calculated that they would require an initial velocity of projection of seven thousand nine hundred and ninety-five feet per second; others demanded eight thousand two hundred and eighty-two; Olbers demanded fourteen times as much; but La Place, the great inventor of the nebular theory, after thirty years' study fixed it definitely at seven thousand eight hundred and sixty-two! It appears that the absurdity of the discharging force of a part greater than the attracting force of the whole never occurred to him.[339] This same La Place supposed, that he could have placed the moon in a much better position for giving light than she now occupies; and that this was the only object of her existence. As this was not done he argued that her waxing and waning light was a proof that she was not located by an Omniscient Creator. He says he would have placed her in the beginning in opposition to the sun, in the plane of the ecliptic, and about four times her present distance from us, with such a motion as would ever maintain that position, thus securing full moon from sunset to sunrise, without possibility of eclipse. But Lionville demonstrates that "if the moon had occupied at the beginning the position assigned her, by the illustrious author of the _Mecanique Celeste_, she could not have maintained it but a very short time."[340] In short, La Place's hypothetical calculations generally have proved erroneous when applied to any existing facts; and we have no reason to attach more value to his nebular theory calculations. The sun is the principal orb of our system, and by far the most conspicuous, and the most observed of all observers, astronomers included. But we have seen already how contradictory their measurements of his distance, and their observations of the influence of his spots. Far more conflicting are the theories as to his constitution, of which indeed we may truly say very little was known before the application of photography and the spectroscope to heliography within the last seven years. One astronomer fixed the period of his rotation at twenty-five days, fourteen hours, and eight minutes; another at twenty-six days, forty-six minutes; another at twenty-four days, twenty-eight minutes.[341] In regard to the sun's heat, a matter fundamental to the nebular theory, the calculations differ widely, and some of them must be grossly erroneous. M. Vicaire called the attention of the French Academy, at a recent meeting, to this unsatisfactory condition of science. Father Secchi estimates it at eighteen million Fahrenheit; while Pouillet says it ranges from two thousand six hundred and sixty-two to three thousand two hundred and one; and others range from two hundred thousand downward. The most singular thing is that these results are derived from observations or radiations made by apparatus identical in principle.[342] But Waterston calculates the temperature of the solar surface at above ten, and probably twelve million Fahrenheit.[343] Now what feeds these enormous fires? The old opinion of astronomy, that the sun was a mass of fire, was assailed by Sir Wm. Herschel, who maintained that it was in the condition of a perpetual magnetic storm. This notion was altered into the belief of a central dark body, surrounded by a stratum of clouds, outside of which is a photosphere of light and heat; which some made one thousand five hundred miles in depth, others four thousand. Outside of this was another layer of rose-colored clouds. To this theory Arago, Sir John Herschel and Humboldt assented. But Le Verrier declares that the facts observed during late eclipses are contrary to this theory, and a new theory is slow in process of construction, to be demolished in its turn by later observations.[344] One of the most recent theories is that the fuel is furnished by a stream of meteorites, planetoids, and comets, falling in by the power of attraction, and being speedily converted into gas flames; a process the very reverse of the theory of the evolution of the solid celestial bodies from gas. But it is pretty evident from these conflicting theories that nobody knows anything certainly as to the materials of the sun, or the fuel which feeds his flames. But if the very best astronomers do not know of what he is made, is it not too great a demand upon our credulity to ask us to believe that they can tell how he was made? The size, density, and distances of the planets, which form such essential elements in the calculations of the nebular theory of evolution, are equally uncertain. Ten or twelve years ago Mercury was believed to be nearly three times as dense as the earth (2.94); and the theory of evolution was partly based upon this assumed fact. But Hausen now finds that it is not half so dense; that, as compared with the earth, it is only 1.22; and that its mass is less than half (5/12) of what had been confidently calculated.[345] Corrections of the masses and densities of other planets are also offered. Still wider differences prevail in calculating the velocities of these bodies; velocities _calculated_ and found to correspond with the theory of evolution. Bianchini gives the period of the rotation of Venus at twenty-four days, eight hours; but Schroeter says it is not as many hours as Bianchini gives days; that it is only twenty-three hours and twenty minutes. Sir Wm. Herschel can not tell which is right, or whether both are wrong.[346] From such imperfect and erroneous calculations astronomers have deduced what they called a _law_, which holds the same place in nature that the Blue Laws of Connecticut maintain in history; and which like them have imposed upon the credulous. Titius and Bode imagined that they had discovered that, "When the distances of the planets are examined, it is found that they are almost all removed from each other by distances which are in the same proportion as their magnitudes increase." And this _law_ played an important part in introducing the theory of evolution, which, it was alleged, exactly corresponded with such an arrangement. But more accurate calculations and recent discoveries have dissipated the supposed order of progression. Humboldt says of it, it is "a law which scarcely deserves this name, and which is called by Lalande and Delambre a play of numbers; by others a help for the memory. * * * In reality the distances between Jupiter, Saturn, and Uranus approximate very closely to the duplication. Nevertheless, since the discovery of Neptune, which is much too near Uranus, the defectiveness in the progression has become strikingly evident." And Olbers rejects it, as "contrary to the nature of all truths which merit the name of laws; it agrees only approximately with observed facts in the case of most planets, and what does not appear to have been once observed, not at all in the case of Mercury. It is evident that the series, 4, 4+3, 4+6, 4+12, 4+48, 4+96, 4+192, with which the distances should correspond, is not a continuous series at all. The number which precedes 4+3 should not be 4; _i. e._, 4+0, but 4+3/2. Therefore between 4 and 4+3 there should be an infinite number, or as Wurm expresses it, for _n_=1, there is obtained from 4+2^{n-2}.3; not 4, but 5-1/2."[347] Thus this so-called law is erroneous in both ends, and defective in the middle. Finally it has been utterly abolished by the discovery of the planet Vulcan, which does not correspond to any such law.[348] If the theory of evolution then corresponds to Bode's law, as its advocates alleged, it corresponds to a myth. About the nebulæ which have played so large a part in the atheistic world building, our astronomers are utterly at variance. Sir John Herschel says they are far away beyond the stars in space. But the Melbourne astronomer, M. Le Seur, suggests that the star Eta and the nebulous matter are neighbors; that the nebulous matter formerly around it, which has recently disappeared, while the star has blazed up into flames, is being absorbed and digested by the star. This has happened before, thirty years ago, to that star. Why may not our sun also absorb and burn up nebulæ. But if so, what becomes of the rings of the nebular theory? The light of the stars is almost the only medium through which we can observe them, and it would naturally be supposed that astronomers would be at pains to have clear views of light. But the most surprising differences of statement regarding it exist among the very first astronomers. They do not see it alike. Herschel says a Herculis is red; Struve says it is yellow. They dispute about its nature, motion, and quantity. Some astronomers believe the sun to be the great source of light, at least to our system. But Nasmyth informs the Royal Astronomical Society that "the true source of latent light is not in the solar orb, but in space itself, and that the grand function of the sun is to act as an agent for the bringing forth into existence the luciferous element, which element I suppose to be diffused throughout the boundless regions of space."[349] The nature of light is however still as great a mystery as when Job demanded, "Where is the way where light dwelleth?" The undulatory theory of light, now generally accepted, assumes that light is caused by the vibrations of the ether in a plane transverse to the direction of propagation. In order to transmit motions of this kind, the parts of the luminiferous medium must resist compression and distortion, like those of an elastic solid body; its transverse elasticity being great enough to transmit one of the most powerful kinds of physical energy, with a speed in comparison with which that of the swiftest planets of our system is inappreciable, and its longitudinal elasticity immensely greater--both of these elasticities being at the same time so weak as to offer no perceptible resistance to the motion of the planets, and other visible bodies.[350] Is the velocity of light uniform? Or, if variable, is the variation caused by the original difference of the projectile force of the different suns, stars, comets, etc.? or by the different media through which it passes? Arago alleges that light moves more rapidly through water than through air; but Brequet asserts that the fact is just the reverse.[351] Both admit that its velocity varies with the medium. Jacobs alleges that during the trigonometrical survey of India he observed the _extinction_ of light reflected through sixty miles of horizontal atmosphere.[352] How, then, can astronomers make any reliable calculations of the velocity of light reaching us through regions of space filled with unknown media? Newton calculated the velocity of light at one hundred and fifty-five thousand five hundred and fifty-five and five-ninth miles a second; but Encke shows he erred thirty per cent. Other eminent astronomers make the time of the passage of light from the sun all the way from eleven to fourteen minutes, instead of Newton's seven or eight. Busch reckons its velocity at one hundred and sixty-seven thousand nine hundred and seventy-six miles; Draper one hundred and ninety-two thousand; Struve two hundred and fifteen thousand eight hundred and fifty-four. Wheatstone alleges that electric light travels at the rate of two hundred and eighty-eight thousand miles a second; but Frizeau's calculations and measurements give only one hundred and sixty-seven thousand five hundred and twenty-eight for the light of Oxygen and hydrogen.[353] Thus we have a variation of one hundred and twenty thousand miles a second in all calculations of sidereal distances. Humboldt tries to reconcile these differences by the suggestion, that no one will deny, that lights of different magnetic or electric processes may have different velocities; a fact which throws all sidereal astronomy into inextricable confusion, and sets aside all existing time tables on sidereal railroads. They are no more agreed as to its composition after it reaches us than as to its velocity. Newton taught that it consisted of seven colors; Wallaston denies more than four; Brewster reduces the number to three--red, yellow, and blue. Newton measures the yellow and violet, and finds them as forty to eighty. Fraunhofer makes the proportion twenty-seven to one hundred and nine. Wallaston's spectrum differs from both. Field says, "No one has ventured to alter either estimate, and no one who is familiar with the spectrum will put much faith in any measurement of it, by whosoever and with what care soever made."[354] He says white light is composed of five parts red, three yellow, and eight blue; which differs wholly from Brewster, who gives it three parts red, five yellow, and two of blue. Equally wild are their calculations of the quantity of light emitted by particular stars. Radeau calculates Vulcan's light at 2.25 that of Mercury; Lias, from the same observations, at 7.36, nearly three times as much.[355] Sir John Herschel calculates that _Alpha Centauri_ emits more light than the sun; that the light of Sirius is four times as great, and its parallax much less; so that by such a calculation Sirius would have an intrinsic splendor sixty-three times that of the sun. But Wallaston only calculates his light at one-fourth of this amount; and Steinheil makes it only one two-hundredth part of the former estimate.[356] Astronomers have lately been comforting the world with the assurance that we have little to fear from comets; that the superstitious fear of the comets prevalent in the past was ill founded, because comets are so very thin that we might pass through one without its breaking up anything. But that, as Principal Leitch shows us, is not the only question. "We know that the most deadly miasmata are so subtle that it is impossible to detect them by any chemical tests, and a very homeopathic dose of a comet, in addition to the elements of our own atmosphere, might produce the most fatal effects."[357] The phenomena indicative of cosmical processes are out of the range of astronomical observation. We can only observe those indicated by light, and gravitation; but how small a proportion of the formative processes of our own world indicate themselves by these two classes of phenomena! How few of the chemical, vegetative, animal, moral, social, or even geological processes, now progressing under our own observation, could give us notice of their existence by the two channels of light and gravitation? How, then, can philosophers ever learn the process of building worlds like our own in which many other powers are at work? Astronomers are not all agreed as to the existence of a cosmical ether; nor do those who assert it agree as to its properties. What is its nature, density, power of refraction and reflection of light, and resistance to motion? What is its temperature? Is it uniform, or like our atmosphere, ever varying? These are manifestly questions indispensable to be answered before any theory of the development of worlds is even conceivable. But of the properties of this all-extending cosmical atmosphere, which is the very breath of life of the development theory, astronomers present the most conflicting statements. Professor Vaughan says, "If such a body exists, it is beyond our estimation of all that is material. It has no weight, according to our idea of weight; no resistance, according to our idea of calculating resistance by mechanical tests; no volume, on our views of volume; no chemical activity, according to our experimental and absolute knowledge of chemical action. In plain terms, it presents no known re-agency by which it can be isolated from surrounding or intervening matter."[358] Or, in plainer terms, we know nothing about it. The only fact about it which astronomers have ventured to specify and calculate is its temperature; for upon this all the power of the development world-making process depends. But they are very far from any agreement; indeed, they are much farther apart than the equator from the poles. Stanley finds the temperature of absolute space--58°; Arago--70°; Humboldt--85°; Herschel--132°; Saigey--107°; Pouillet, to be exact to a fraction--223-6/10° below the freezing point; though when it gets to be so cold as that one would think he would hardly stay out of doors to measure fractions of a degree. But Poisson thinks he is over 200° too cold, and fixes the temperature accurately, in his own opinion, 8-6/10°. Moreover, he alleges that there is no more uniformity in the temperature of the heavens than in that of our own atmosphere, owing to the unequal radiations of heat from the stars; and that the earth, and the whole solar system, receive their internal heat from without, while passing through hot regions of space.[359] From this chaos of conflicting assertions of unknown facts the theory of development develops itself. Its fundamental postulate is the difference of temperature between the nebulæ and the surrounding space. But the fact is that nobody knows what is the temperature of either space or nebulæ, nor is anybody likely ever to know enough of either to base any scientific theory upon. Astronomy will never teach men how to make worlds; nor is it of the least consequence that it does not; since we could not make them, even if we knew how. From these specimens of the errors and contradictions of the best astronomers, the teachers upon whose accuracy we depend for our faith in science, we can see, that though the Pope and the Infidel savans may claim infallibility, yet after all the savant is just as infallible as the Pope, viz: he is right when he is right, and he is wrong when he is wrong, and that happens frequently and common folks can not always tell when. There is no such thing, then, as infallible science upon faith, in which I can venture to reject God's Bible, and risk my soul's salvation. Science is founded on faith in very fallible men. 3. _Geology_, one of the most recent of the sciences, and in the hands of Infidel nurses one of the most noisy, has been supposed to be anti-Christian. The supposition is utterly unfounded. Such of its facts as have been well ascertained have demonstrated the being, wisdom, and goodness of an Almighty Creator, with irresistible evidence. Nor, though a wonderful outcry has been raised about the opposition between the records of the rocks and the records of the Bible, regarding the antiquity of the earth, has any one yet succeeded in proving such an opposition, for the plain reason that neither the Bible nor geology says how old it is. They both say it is very old. The Bible says, "In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth;" and by the use which it makes of the word _beginning_, leaves us to infer that it was long before the existence of the human race.[360] If the geologist could prove that the earth was six thousand millions of years older than Adam, it would contradict no statement of the Bible. The Bible reader, therefore, has no reason to question any well ascertained fact of geology. But when Infidels come to us with their geological _theories_ about the mode in which God made the earth, or in which the earth made itself, and how long it took to do it, and tell us that they have got scientific demonstration from the rocks that the Bible account is false, and that our old traditions can not stand before the irresistible evidence of science, we are surely bound to look at the foundation of facts, and the logical superstructure, which sustain such startling conclusions. Now it is remarkable that every Infidel argument against the statements of the Bible, or rather against what they suppose to be the statements of the Bible, is based, not on the _facts_, but upon the _theories_, of geology. I do not know one which is based solely on facts and inductions from facts. Every one of them has a wooden leg, and goes hobbling upon an _if_. Take for example the argument most commonly used--that which asserts the vast antiquity of the earth--a thing in itself every way likely, and not at all contrary to Scripture, if it could be scientifically proved. But how does our Infidel geologist set about his work of proving that the earth is any given age, say six thousand millions of years? A scientific demonstration must rest upon _facts_--well ascertained facts. It admits of _no suppositions_. Now what are the facts given to solve the problem of the earth's age? The geologist finds a great many layers of rocks, one above the other, evidently formed below the water, some of them out of the fragments of former rocks, containing bones, shells, and casts of fishes, and tracks of the feet of birds, made when these rocks were in the state of soft mud, and altogether several miles thick. He has a great multitude of such facts before him, but they are all of this character. Not one of them gives him the element of _time_. They announce to him a succession of events, such as successive generations of fishes and plants; but not one of them tells how long these generations lived. The condition of the world was so utterly different then, from what it is now, that no inference can be drawn from the length of the lives of existing races, which are generally also of different species. The utmost any man can say, in such a case, is, _I suppose_, for there is no determinate element of time in the statement of the problems, and so no certain time can appear in the solution. Here is a problem exactly similar. A certain house is found to be built with ten courses of hewn stone in the basement, forty courses of brick in the first story, thirty-six courses in the second, thirty-two in the third; with a roof of nine inch rafters covered with inch boards, and an inch and a half layer of coal tar and gravel; how long was it in building? Would not any school-boy laugh at the absurdity of attempting such a problem? He would say, "How can I tell unless I know whence the materials came, how they were conveyed, how many workmen were employed, and how much each could do in a day? If the brick had to be made by hand, the lumber all dressed with the hand-saw and jack-plane, the materials all hauled fifty miles in an ox-cart, the brick carried up by an Irishman in a hod, and the work done by an old, slow-going, jobbing contractor, who could only afford to pay three or four men at a time, they would not get through in a year. But if the building stone and sand were found in excavating the cellar, if the brick were made by steam and came by railroad, a good master builder, with steam saw and planing mills, steam hoists, and a strong force of workmen, would run it up in three weeks." So our geologist ought to say; "I do not know either the source of the materials of the earth's strata, nor the means by which they were conveyed to their present positions; therefore I can not tell the time required for their formation. If the crust of the earth was created originally of solid granite, and the materials of the strata were ground down by the slow action of frost and rain, and conveyed to the ocean by the still slower agencies of rivers and torrents--hundreds of millions of ages would not effect the work. But if the earth was created in such a shape as would rationally be considered the best adapted for future stratification; if its crust consisted of the various elements of which granite and other rocks are composed; if these materials were ejected in a granular or comminuted form, and in vast quantities by submarine volcanoes generated by the chemical action of these elements upon each other; and if, after being diffused by the currents of the ocean, and consolidated by its vast pressure, the underlying strata were baked and melted and crystallized into granite[361]--a very few centuries would suffice. Until these indispensable preliminaries are settled, geology can make no calculations of the length of time occupied by the formation of the strata." But instead of saying so, he _imagines_ that God chose to make the earth out of the most impossible materials, by the most unsuitable agencies, and with the most inadequate forces; and that therefore a long time was needed for the work. In short, to revert to our illustration of the house-building, he _supposes_ that Almighty God built the earth with the ox-team, and employed only the same force in erecting the building, which he now uses for doing little jobbing repairs. Almost all geological computations of time are made upon the supposition that only the same agents were at work then which we see now, that they only wrought with the same degree of force, and that they produced just the same effects in such a widely different condition of the earth as then prevailed. It takes a year say to deposit mud enough at the bottom of the sea to make an inch of rock now; _and if mud was deposited no faster_ when the geological strata were formed, they are as many years old as there are inches in eight or nine miles depth of strata. But this is not the scientific proof we were promised. How does he prove that mud was deposited at just the same rate then as now? The very utmost he can say is that it is a very probable supposition. I can prove it a very improbable supposition. But it is enough for my present purpose to point out that, probable or improbable, it is _only supposition_. No proof is given or can possibly be given for it. Any conclusion drawn from such premises can be only a _supposition_ too. And so the whole fabric of geological chronology, upon the stability of which so many Infidels are risking the salvation of their souls, and beneath which they are boasting that they will bury the Bible beyond the possibility of a resurrection, vanishes into a mere _unproved notion_, based upon an _if_. It is truly astonishing, that any sober-minded person should allow himself to be shaken in his religious convictions by the alleged results of a science so unformed and imperfect, as geologists themselves acknowledge their favorite science to be. "The dry land upon our globe occupies only _one-fourth_ of its whole superficies. All the rest is sea. How much of this fourth part have geologists been able to examine? and how small seems to be the area of stratification which they have explored? We venture to say not one _fiftieth part of the whole_."[362] "Abstract or speculative geology, were it a perfect science, would present a history of the globe from its origin and formation, through all the changes it has undergone, up to the present time; describing its external appearance, its plants and animals at each successive period. _As yet, geology is the mere aim to arrive at such knowledge_; and when we consider how difficult it is to trace the history of a nation, even over a few centuries, we can not be surprised at the small progress geologists have made in tracing the history of the earth through the lapse of ages. To ascertain the history of a nation possessed of written records is comparatively easy; but when these are wanting, we must examine the ruins of their cities and monuments, and judge of them as a people from the size and structure of their buildings, and from the remains of art found in them. This is often a perplexing, always an arduous task; _much more so is it to decipher the earth's history_."[363] "The canoes, for example, and stone hatchets found in our peat bogs afford an insight into the rude arts and manners of the earliest inhabitants of our island; the buried coin fixes the date of some Roman emperor; the ancient encampments indicate the districts once occupied by invading armies, and the former method of constructing military defenses; the Egyptian mummies throw light on the art of embalming, the rites of sepulture, or the average stature of ancient Egypt. This class of memorials yields to no other in authenticity, but it constitutes a small part only of the resources on which the historian relies; whereas in geology it forms the only kind of evidence which is at our command. For this reason _we must not expect to obtain a full and connected account of any series of events beyond the reach of history_."[364] "There are no calculations more doubtful than those of the geologist."[365] In fact, no truly scientific geologist pretends that it stands on the same level with any authentic history, much less with the Bible record; inasmuch as the discovery of a single new fact may overturn the whole theory. "It furnishes us with no clew by which to unravel the unapproachable mysteries of creation. These mysteries belong to the wondrous Creator, and to him only. We attempt to theorize upon them, and to reduce them to law, and all nature rises up against us in our presumptuous rebellion. A stray splinter of cone bearing wood--a fish's skull or tooth--the vertebra of a reptile--the humerus of a bird--the jaw of a quadruped--_all_, _any_ of these things, weak and insignificant as they may seem, become in such a quarrel too strong for us and our theory--the puny fragment in the grasp of truth forms as irresistible a weapon as the dry bone did in that of Samson of old; and our slaughtered sophisms lie piled up, 'heaps upon heaps,' before it."[366] The history of the progress of geology furnishes abundant proof of the truth of these admissions of weakness and fallibility. In almost every instance when we have had the opportunity of testing geological calculations of time they have proved to be erroneous; and sometimes grossly erroneous. The lake dwellings of Switzerland, which were once alleged to be at least fifteen thousand years old, are found surrounded by heaps of burnt corn; illustrating Cæsar's account of the burning of their corn by the Helvetians, preparatory to the invasion of Gaul, which he repelled. The peat bogs of Denmark, surrounding stumps of oak, beech, and pine, claimed to be successive growths, and at least twelve thousand five hundred years old, have been compared with a piece of primeval bog and forest, on the Earl of Arran's estate, in Scotland, which corresponds perfectly to the Danish bog; but which shows the three growths not successive, but contemporaneous, at different levels; the bog growing as well as the trees. And the frequent discovery of Danish remains of the stone and bronze ages in the old Danish forts and battle-fields of Ireland fixes their historical period at the era of the Danish invasion; some of these stone and bronze weapons being found on the battle-field of Clontarf, dating A. D. 827. Skeletons of warriors with gold collars, bronze battle-axes, and flint arrow heads are quite common in the Irish bogs. The absence of iron, on which so great a theory of the stone, bronze, and iron ages as successive developments of civilization has been raised, is easily accounted for by the perishable nature of iron when exposed to moisture. But that this Celtic race used iron also, as well as bronze and stone, is proved incontestably by the discovery, in 1863, of the slag of their iron furnaces, among a number of flint weapons, and Celtic skulls, at Linhope, in Northumberland; the iron itself having perished by rust.[367] The pottery, glass, and handmills found beside these skulls show that their owners were by no means the degraded savages supposed to represent the so-called stone age. Horner's Nile pottery, discovered at a depth of sixty feet, and calculated to be twelve thousand years old, and fragments found still deeper in this deposit, and calculated at thirty thousand years, were found to be underlaid by still deeper layers, producing Roman pottery; and in the deepest boring of all, at the foot of the statue of Rameses II., the discovery of the Grecian honeysuckle, marked on some of these mysterious fragments, which they had claimed as pre-historic, proved that it could not be older than the Greek conquest of Egypt. Sir Robert Stephenson found in the neighborhood of Damietta, at a greater depth than Mr. Horner reached, a brick bearing the stamp of Mohammed Ali.[368] The shifting currents of all rivers flowing through alluvial deposits bury such things in a single season of high water. The raised beaches of Scotland are quite conspicuous geological features of the Highlands, and have furnished themes for calculations of their vast antiquity. Here and there human remains had been discovered in them, but no link could be had to connect them otherwise than geologically with history. Geologists, accordingly, with their visual generosity of time, assigned them to the pre-Adamite period. But recently the missing link has been found, and these progenitors of Tubal Cain, and the pre-Adamites generally, are found to have been in the habit of supping their broth out of Roman pottery! Lyell, the acknowledged prince of geologists, is famous for his chronological blundering; of which his calculations of the age of the delta of the Mississippi is a very good American example. He calculates the quantity of mud in suspension in the water, and the area and depth of the delta, and says it must have taken sixty-seven thousand years for the formation of the whole; and if the alluvial matter of the plain above be two hundred and sixty-four feet deep, or half that of the delta, it must have required thirty-three thousand five hundred years more for its accumulation, even if its area be estimated at only equal to the delta, whereas it is in fact larger.[369] He makes no allowance for tidal deposits. But Brig. Gen. Humphrey, of the United States Surveying Department, goes over Lyell's calculations, and shows that instead of 3,702,758,400 cubic feet of mud brought down by the Mississippi, as estimated by Lyell, the actual amount is 19,500,750,000,000; that the rate at which the delta is now advancing into the gulf is fifty feet per annum, and that the age of the delta and alluvial deposit is four thousand four hundred, instead of Lyell's one hundred thousand five hundred years.[370] We might go on and give a dozen such instances of geological miscalculations of time did space permit; but these are enough to disabuse us of any faith in such calculations. With such specimens before us of the miscalculations of the smaller periods by geologists, we are not surprised to find that they grossly exaggerate the larger cycles of time. The necessities of the evolution of the ascidian into the snail, of the snail into the fish, and of the fish into the lizard, of the lizard into the monkey, and of the monkey into the man, by slow and imperceptible changes, demanded an almost infinite length of time; and the geologists of that school accordingly asserted the existence of animal life upon our globe for hundreds of thousands of millions of years. But Sir Wm. Thompson, one of the first mathematicians, demonstrates[371] the impossibility of any such length of time being spent in the process of cooling our little globe. Beginning with their own assumption, of a globe of molten granite cooling down to the present state, he proves that the earth can not have been in existence longer than a hundred millions of years; and of course that plants and animals have existed on it a much shorter time; as for the greater part of that period it was too hot for them. The geologists are now becoming ashamed of their poetical cycles, and some acknowledge that their chiefs blundered egregiously in their calculations. The principles of geology seem to be as unsettled as its facts. There is no agreement upon any of its theories. The history of its theories, like that of their framers, begins with their birth, and ends with their burial. Each new theory placed the tombstone upon the preceding, and inscribed it with the brief record of the antediluvian, "and he died." A busy time they must have had with their Wernerian, Huttonian, and Diluvian hypotheses; not to mention the Hutchinsonian theory, the animal spirits flowing from the sun, the vegetative power of stories, and other sage and serious facts and theories, theological and philosophical, invented to account for the world's creation. "No theory," says Lyell, "could be so far-fetched or fantastical as not to attract some followers, provided it fell in with the popular notion." "Some of the most extravagant systems were invented or controverted by men of acknowledged talent." A more amusing exhibition of philosophical absurdity can not be found than those chapters which he devotes to "The Historical Progress of Geology,"[372] unless perhaps the scientific discussions of the erudite acquaintances of Lemuel Gulliver. Let it not be supposed that the progress of inductive science, and the prevalence of the Baconian philosophy have banished absurdities and contradictions from the sphere of geology. It would require a man of considerable learning to find three geologists agreed, either in their facts, or in their theories. In a general way, indeed, we have the Catastrophists, with Hugh Miller, overwhelming the earth with dire convulsions in the geological eras, and upheaving the more conservative Lyell and the Progressionists; who affirm that all things continue as they were from the beginning of the world. And there is perhaps a general agreement now that the underlying _primitive_ rocks, so called, are not primitive at all, as geologists thought twenty years ago; but, like the foundations of a Chicago house, have been put in long after the building was finished and occupied. But then comes the question how they were inserted--whether as Elie de Beaumont thinks, the mountains were upheaved by starts, lever fashion, or, as Lyell affirms, very gradually, and imperceptibly, like the elevation of a brick house by screws.[373] Nor is there the least likelihood of any future agreement among them; inasmuch as they can not agree either as to the thickness of the earth's solid crust which is to be lifted, or the force by which it is to be done? Hopkins proves by astronomical observation that it is eight hundred miles thick. Lyell affirms that at twenty-four miles deep there can be no solid crust, for the temperature of the earth increases one degree for every forty-five feet, and at that depth the heat is great enough to melt iron and almost every known substance. But then there is a difference between philosophers about this last test of solidity--those who believe in Wedgewood's Pyrometer, which was the infallible standard twenty years ago, asserting that the heat of melted iron is 21,000° Fahrenheit; while Professor Daniells demonstrates by another infallible instrument that it is only 2,786° Fahrenheit;[374] which is rather a difference. In one case the earth's crust would be over two hundred miles thick, in the other twenty-four. But then comes the great question, What is below the granite? and a very important one for any theory of the earth. It evidently underlies the whole foundation of speculative geology, whether we assume with De Beaumont and Humboldt, that "the whole globe, with the exception of a thin envelope, much thinner in proportion than the shell of an egg, is a fused mass, kept fluid by heat--a heat of 450,000° Fahrenheit, at the center, Cordier calculates--but constantly cooling, and contracting its dimensions;" and occasionally cracking and falling in, and "squeezing upward large portions of the mass;" "thus producing those folds or wrinkles which we call mountain chains;" or, with Davy and Lyell, that the heat of such a boiling ocean below would melt the solid crust, like ice from the surface of boiling water--and with it the whole theory of the primeval existence of the earth in a state of igneous fusion, its gradual cooling down into continents and mountains of granite, the gradual abrasion of the granite into the mud and sand which formed the stratified rocks, and all the other brilliant hypotheses which have sparked out of this great internal fire. Instead of an original central heat he supposes that "we may _perhaps_ refer the heat of the interior to chemical changes constantly going on in the earth's crust."[375] Now if the very foundations of the science are in such a state of fusion, and floating on a _perhaps_, would it not be wise to allow them to solidify a little before a man risks the salvation of his soul upon them? The various theories are contradictions. The igneous theory assault the aqueous theory with the greatest heat; while the aqueous theorists pour cold water, in torrents, upon the igneous men. The shocks of conflicting glacier theories have shaken the Alps and convulsed all North America; and have not yet ceased. There are eleven theories of earthquakes, which have been, and are still, such energetic agents in geology; and the whole eleven afford not the least rational idea of their causes; nor of any means of preventing, predicting, or escaping their ravages. The best geologists have described fossil tracks as the footprints of gigantic birds, which others equally as authoritative pronounce the tracks of frogs and lizards. Indeed, a good part of every geological treatise, and of the time of every association of geologists, is taken up with refutations of the errors of their predecessors. There are no less than nine theories of the causes of the elevation of mountains; some scoop out the valleys by water; others by ice; others heave up the mountains by fire; and some by the chemical expansion of their rocks; while others still upheave them by the pressure of molten lava from beneath; and others again make them out to be the wrinkles of the contraction of the supposed crust of the liquid interior. Of all these theories an able geologist says: "The many proposed theories of mountain elevation are based upon assumptions which unfortunately are not true; but that is an unimportant matter to the majority of our speculating geologists; and one never seen by the inventors of the theories, who allow themselves to be led captive by a poetic imagination, instead of building their inductions upon field observations. "Thus, to suppose that mountains are elevated by a wedge like intrusion of melted matter is to give to a fluid functions incompatible with its dynamic properties. So also the supposition that the igneous rocks were intruded, as solid wedges separating and lifting the crust, is opposed to the fact that no apparent abrasion, but generally the closest adhesion, exists at the line of contact of the igneous and stratified rocks. Equally fatal objections may be advanced against the other theories."[376] Multitudes of the alleged facts of Infidel geologists are as apocryphal as their theories. Thus in a recent ponderous quarto volume, the production of half a dozen philosophers, this identical impossible theory--of the cooling of the earth's crust down to solidity, while an irresistible central heat remains below--is presented to the world as an ascertained fact; we are informed of the discovery of a human skull fifty-seven thousand years old, _in good preservation_; asked to believe that two tiers of cypress snags could not be deposited in the delta of the Mississippi in less than eleven thousand four hundred years; and to calculate that the delta of the Nile must have been a great many ages in growing to its present size, because it is quite certain that for the last three thousand years _it has never grown at all_.[377] It were easy to fill a volume with such mistakes of geologists, but my limits restrict me to a few specimens. Silliman's Journal, in a review of "_The Geology of North America_, by Julius Marcoe, U. S. Geologist, and Professor of Geology in the Federal Polytechnic School of Switzerland; quarto, with maps and plates," says: "The author describes the mountain systems of north America as _he supposes they must be_, according to the theoretical views of Elie de Beaumont." "Thus one single fossil--that one a species of pine, and only very much resembling the _Pinites Fleurotti_ of Dr. Monguett--_establishes_ a connection between the New Red of France, and that of America. This is a very strong word for a geologist to use on evidence so small, _and so uncertain_, with the fate of four thousand or five thousand feet of rock at stake, and the beds beneath, containing 'perhaps Belemnites.' The prudent observer would have said, _establishes nothing_; and such is the fact." "_On such evidence_ a region over the Rocky Mountains, which is one thousand miles from north to south, and eight hundred miles from east to west, is for the most part colored in the maps as Triassic. Such a region would take in quite a respectable part of the continent of Europe." "We now know beyond any reasonable doubt, that all the country from the Platte to the British Possessions, and from the Mississippi to the Black Hills, is occupied by Cretaceous and Tertiary rocks. And as regards the region from the Platte southward to the Red River, very far the largest part _is known to be not Triassic_, while it is possible the Trias may occur in some parts of it." "It is unfortunate in its bearing on the progress of geological science to have false views about some five hundred thousand miles of territory, and much more besides, spread widely abroad through respectable journals, and transactions of distinguished European Societies."[378] One can not but sympathize with the poor abused Rocky Mountains, tormented and misrepresented for a thousand miles by this French geologist. But our American patriotism may be partially pacified when we find that Europe fares no better; and that Great Britain, and Old Scotland, Hugh Miller's own cradle, which has been the very lecture room of geologists, has nevertheless been most grossly misrepresented in all books and maps, up till the last decade. The _Edinburgh Review_, a competent authority, says (No. cxxvii.): "The new light which has been thus thrown on the history of the geological series of Scotland (by Sir Roderick Murchison), showing that great masses of crystalline rocks, called primary, and supposed to be much more ancient than the Silurian system, are here simply metamorphosed strata of that age, may with justice be looked upon as one of the most valuable results which have been attained by British geologists for many years." A very just remark indeed! If only geologists would learn a little modesty from this discovery, which completely turns upside down their old world-building process of grinding down all the upper strata out of the molten granite, and gives us, instead, the baking of the strata into crystalline rocks; a process exactly the reverse of the former, and of that asserted by the theory of evolution. There is no prospect of any cessation of the war of geological theories. 4. _Zoology._ Equally hostile to each other are the expounders of the development of man from the monkey. As Ishmaelites their hand is against every man. Each is a law in theorizing unto himself. Their contendings may well teach us caution. Lamarck set those right who preceded him. The author of the _Vestiges of Creation_ outstripped Lamarck, and Mr. Darwin sets both aside; while he in his turn is severely censured by M. Tremaux, and has all his reasoning controverted in favor of the new theory. Lamarck believed in spontaneous generation; Darwin does not. The author of the _Vestiges of Creation_ expounded a law of development, and Mr. Darwin replaces it by Natural Selection. M. Tremaux has repudiated the origin which Mr. Darwin has assumed, and insists on our believing that, not water, but the _soil_, is the origin of all life, and therefore of man. With him there is no progress; all creatures have reached their resting place. But man rises or sinks, according to the more ancient or recent soil he dwells upon. Professor Huxley is unwilling to abandon his idea that life may come from dead matter, and is not disposed to accept of Mr. Darwin's explanation of the origin of life by the Creator having, at first, breathed it into one or more forms. While accepting of Mr. Darwin's theory of a common descent for man with all other creatures, he not only differs from him as to the beginning, but he admits that there is no gradual transition from the one to the other. He acknowledges that the structural differences between man and even the highest apes are great and significant; and yet because there is no sign of gradual transition between the gorilla, and the orang, and the gibbon, he infers that they all had a common origin; whereas the more natural conclusion from the facts would be that they had separate beginnings. Mr. Wallace, whose claims are admitted to be equal to these of Mr. Darwin, as the propounder of the theory of the origin of species by Natural Selection, has firmly asserted that, with all its resources, Natural Selection is utterly inadequate to account for the origin and structure of the human race.[379] Thus they go, biting and devouring each other, until at last it becomes a reproduction of the Kilkenny cats, and there is nothing left but the tails. We have only to wait, and the current Infidel theory will certainly be exposed and demolished next year, by the author of some equally impossible theory. Not merely individual scientists, but the most learned societies have blundered. "Has not the French Academy pronounced against the use of quinine and vaccination, against lightning rods and steam engines? Has not Reaumer suppressed Peysonnel's 'Essay on Corals,' because he thought it was madness to maintain their animal nature? Had not his learned brethren decreed, in 1802, that there were no meteors, although a short time later two thousand fell in one department alone; and had they not more recently still received the news of ether being useful as an anæsthetic with sure and unanimous condemnation?"[380] If space permitted we could go over the circle of the sciences, and show that a similar state of uncertainty and exposure to error exists in them all. We have, however, confined our attention to those whose certainty is now most loudly vaunted, and whose theories are most largely used as the basis of Infidelity. Nor have we by any means exhausted the list of errors and contradictions of these. A volume as large as this would be required to present the list of several hundred errors, absurdities, contradictions, and mutual refutations of scientists, in the physical sciences, now before me; errors not sought after, but incidentally observed and noted in the spare hours' reading of a busy professional life. It is worthy of notice, that the uncertainties of science increase just in proportion to our interest in it. It is very uncertain about all my dearest concerns, and very positive about what does not concern me. The greatest certainty is attainable in pure mathematics, which regards only ideal quantities and figures; but biology--the science of life--is utterly obscure. The astronomer can calculate with considerable accuracy the movements of distant planets, with which we have no intercourse; but where is the meteorologist bold enough to predict the wind and weather of next week, on which my crops, my ships, my life may depend? Heat, light, and electricity may be pretty accurately measured and registered, but what physician can measure the strength of the malignant virus which is sapping the life of his patient? The chemist can thoroughly analyze any foreign substance, but the disease of his own body which is bringing him to the grave, he can neither weigh, measure nor remove. Science is very positive about distant stars and remote ages, but stammers and hesitates about the very life of its professors. 4. Such, then, are a few of the uncertainties, imperfections, and positive and egregious errors of science at its fountain head. To the actual investigator infallible certainty of any scientific fact is hardly possible, error exceedingly probable, and gross blunders in fact and theory by no means uncommon. But how greatly diluted must the modified and hesitating conviction possible to an actual observer become, when, as is generally the case, a man is not an actual observer himself, but _learns his science at school_. Such a person leaves the ground of demonstrative science, and stands upon faith. The first question then to be proposed to one whose demonstrative certainty of the truths of physical science has disgusted him with a religion received on testimony and faith, is, How have you reached this demonstrative certainty in matters of science? Are you quite sure that your certainty rests not upon the testimony of fallible and erring philosophers, but solely upon your own personal observations and experiments? To take only the initial standard of astronomical measurements--the earth's distance from the sun. Have you personally measured the earth's radius, observed the transit of Venus in 1769, from Lapland to Tahiti at the same time, calculated the sun's parallax, and the eccentricity of the earth's orbit? Would you profess yourself competent to take even the preliminary observation for fixing the instruments for such a reckoning? Were you ever within a thousand miles of the proper positions for making such observations? Or have you been necessitated to accept this primary measure, upon the accuracy of which all subsequent astronomical measurers depend, merely upon hearsay and testimony, and subject to all those contingencies of error and prejudice, and mistakes of copyists, which, in your opinion, render the Bible so unreliable in matters of religion? Or to come down to earth. You are a student of the stone book, with its enduring records graven in the rock forever; and perhaps have satisfied yourself that "under the ponderous strata of geological science the traditionary mythology and cosmogony of the Hebrew poet has found an everlasting tomb." But how many volumes of this stone book have you perused personally? You are quite indignant perhaps that theologians and divines, who have no practical or personal knowledge of geology, should presume to investigate its claims. Have you personally visited the various localities in South America, Siberia, Australia, India, Britain, Italy, and the South Seas, where the various formations are exhibited; and have you personally excavated from their matrices the various fossils which form the hieroglyphics of the science? Have you, in fact, ever seen one in a thousand of these minerals and fossils _in situ_? Or are you dependent on the tales of travelers, the specimens of collectors, the veracity of authors, the accuracy of lecturers, aided by maps of ideal stratifications, in rose-pink, brimstone-yellow, and indigo-blue, for your profound and glowing convictions of the irresistible force of experimental science, and of the shadowy vagueness of a religion dependent upon human testimony? To come down considerably in our demands, and confine ourselves to the narrow limits of the laboratory. You are a chemist perhaps, and proud, as most chemists justly are, of the accuracy attainable in that most palpable and demonstrative science. But how much of it is experimental science _to you_? How many of the nine hundred and forty-two substances treated of in Turner's Chemistry have you analyzed? One-half? One-tenth? Would you face the laughter of a college class to-morrow upon the experiment of taking nine out of the nine hundred, reducing them to their primitive elements, giving an accurate analysis of their component parts, and combining them in the various forms described in that, or any other book, whose statements, because experimentally certain, have filled you with a dislike of Bible truths, which you must receive upon testimony? In fact, do you know anything worth mention of the facts of science upon your own knowledge, except those of the profession by which you make your living? Or, after all your boasting about scientific and demonstrative certainty, have you been obliged to receive the certainties of science "upon faith, and at second-hand, and upon the word of another;" and to save your life you could not tell half the time who that other is, by naming the discoverers of half the scientific truths you believe? What! are you dependent on hearsay, and probability, for any little science you possess, having in fact never obtained any personal demonstration or experience of its first principles and measurements, nor being capable of doing so? Then let us hear no more cant about the uncertainty of a religion dependent upon testimony, and the certainties of experimental science. Whatever certainty may be attainable by scientific men--and we have seen that is not much--it is very certain you have got none of it. The very best you can have to wrap yourself in is a second-hand assurance, grievously torn by rival schools, and needing to be patched every month by later discoveries. Your science, such as it is, _rests solely upon faith_ in the testimony of philosophers, often contradictory and improbable, and always fallible and uncertain. 5. Nor would you cease to be dependent upon faith could you personally make all the observations and calculations of demonstrative science. The knowledge of these facts does not constitute science; it is merely the brick pile containing the materials for the building of science. Science is knowledge systematized. But if the parts of nature were not arranged after a plan, the knowledge of them could not be formed into a system. Chaos is unintelligible. Our minds are so constituted that we look for order and regularity, and can not comprehend confusion. We possess this expectation of order before we begin to learn science, and without it would never begin the search after a system of knowledge. All scientific experiment is but a search after order, and order is only another name for intelligence--for God. Deprive us of this fundamental faith in cause and effect, order and regularity--of reason, in short--and science becomes as impossible to man as to the orang-outang. _All science, even in its first principles, rests upon faith._ Not only science, reason, also, is founded upon faith; for we can not prove by reason the truths which form the data of reasoning. The intuitions of the mind, which form the postulates necessary to the first process of reasoning, are believed, not proven. When the wise fool attempted to prove his own existence by the celebrated sophism, "I think, therefore I exist," he necessarily postulated his existence in order to prove it. How did he know that there was an "I" to think? And how did he know that the "I" thought? Certainly not by any process of reasoning, but by faith. He believed these truths; but could never reason them into his consciousness. Faith, then, underlies reason itself. We may now proceed to inquire whether or not faith, which we have found so prevalent even among those who repudiate it, is a thing to be ashamed of; or if it be a sufficiently certain and reliable basis for human life and conduct. 1. We are met at the very outset by the great fact that God has so constituted the world and everything in it, that _in all the great concerns of life we are necessitated to depend on faith_; without any possibility of reaching absolute certainty regarding the result of any ordinary duty. We sow without any certainty of a crop, or that we may live to reap it. We harvest, but our barns may be burned down. We sell our property for bank-bills, but who dare say they will ever be paid in specie? We start on a journey to a distant city, but even though you insure your life, who will insure that fire, or flood, or railroad collision may not send you to the land whence there is no return? Science is the child of yesterday; but from the beginning of the world men have lived by faith. Before science was born, Cain tilled his ground without any mathematical demonstration that he should reap a crop. Abel fed his flock without any scientific certainty that he should live to enjoy its produce; and Tubal Cain forged axes and swords without any assurance that he should not be plundered of his wages. All the experience of mankind proves that experimental certainty regarding the most important business of this life is impossible. By what process of philosophical induction is religion alone put beyond the sphere of faith and hope? If religious duties are not binding on us, unless religion be scientifically demonstrated, then neither are moral obligations; for these two can not be separated. Is it really so, that none but scientific men are bound to tell the truth, and pay their debts; and that a person may not fear God, and go to heaven, unless he has graduated at college? The common sense of mankind declares that we live by faith, not by science. 2. _We demand the knowledge of truths of which science is profoundly ignorant._ Science is but an outlying nook of my farm, which I may neglect and yet have bread to eat. Faith is my house in which all my dearest interests are treasured. Of all the great problems and precious interests which belong to me as a mortal and an immortal, science knows nothing. I ask her whence I came? and she points to her pinions scorched over the abyss of primeval fire, her eyes blinded by its awful glare, and remains silent. I inquire what I am? but the strange and questioning _I_ is a mystery which she can neither analyze nor measure. I tell her of the voice of conscience within me--she never heard it, and does not pretend to understand its oracles. I tell her of my anxieties about the future--she is learned only in the past. I inquire how I may be happy hereafter--but happiness is not a scientific term, and she can not tell me how to be happy here! Poor, blind science! 3. _All our dearest interests lie beyond the domains of science, in the regions of faith._ Science treats of things--faith is confidence in persons. Take away the persons, and of what value are the things? The world becomes at once a vast desert, a dreary solitude, and more miserable than any of its former inhabitants the lonely wretch who is left to mourn over the graves of all his former companions--the last man. Solitary science were awful. Could I prosecute the toils of study alone, without companion or friend to share my labors? Would I study eternally with no object, and for no use; none to be benefited, none to be gratified by my discoveries? Though you hung maps on every tree, made every mountain range a museum, bored mines in every valley, and covered every plain with specimens, made Vesuvius my crucible, and opened the foundations of the earth to my view--yet would the discovery of a single fresh human footprint in the sand fill my heart with more true hope of happiness, than an endless eternity of solitary science. I can live, and love, and be happy without science, _but not without companionship, whose bond is faith_. Faith is the condition of all the happiness you can know on earth. Law, order, government, civilization, and family life, depend not upon science, but upon confidence in moral character--upon faith. In its sunshine alone can happiness grow. It is faith sends you out in the morning to your work, nerves your arms through the toils of the day, brings you home in the evening, gathers your wife and your children around your table, inspires the oft-repeated efforts of the little prattler to ascend your knee, clasps his chubby arms around your neck, looks with most confiding innocence in your eye, and puts forth his little hand to catch your bread, and share your cup. Undoubting faith is happiness even here below. Need you marvel, then, that you must be converted from your pride of empty, barren science, and casting yourself with all your powers into the arms of faith, become as a little child before you can enter into the kingdom of heaven? 4. But religion is not founded upon faith as distinct from observation and experiment. _It is the most experimental of all the sciences._ There is less of theory, and more of experience in it than in any other science. Its faith is all practical. It is a great mistake to suppose that faith is the opposite pole of experience. On the contrary, experience is the fruit which ripens from the blossom of faith. We have seen how an underlying conviction of the existence of an intelligent planner and upholder of the laws of nature is the source of all scientific experiment, and systematized knowledge. A similar underlying conviction of the existence of a moral governor of the world is the source of all religious experience. _He that cometh to God must believe that he is, and that he is the rewarder of those that diligently seek him._ But this fundamental axiom believed, long trains of experience follow; of every one of which you can be, and actually are, infinitely more certain than of any fact of physical science. Your eyes, your ears, your touch, your instruments, your reason, may be deceived; but your consciousness can not. If your soul is filled with joy, that is a _fact_. You know it, and are as sure of it as you are that the sun shines. If you feel miserable, you are so. A sense of neglected duty, a consciousness that you have done wrong, and are displeased with yourself for it; a certainty that God is displeased with you for wrong-doing, and that he will show his displeasure by suitable punishment; the tenacious grasp of vicious habits on your body and soul, and the fearful thought that by the law of your nature these vipers, which you vainly struggle to shake off, will forever keep involving you more closely in their cursed coils--these are _facts of your experience_. You are as certain that they give you disquiet of mind, when you entertain them, as that the sea rages in a tempest; and that you can no more prevent their entrance, nor compel their departure, nor calm nor drown the anxiety they occasion, than you can prevent the rising of the tempest, dismiss the thunder-storm, or drown Etna in your wine-glass. Of these primary facts of moral science, and of others like them, you possess the most absolute and infallible certainty from your own consciousness. They result from the inertia of moral matter, which, when put into a state of disturbance, has no power of bringing itself to rest; as expressed in the formula, _There is no peace, saith my God, to the wicked._[381] Let us now go out of your own experience, as you must do in every other science, into the region of observation, and study a few of the other phenomena of religion. Your comrade, Jones, has taken to drinking of late, and also to going with you to Sunday lectures, and in the evening to other places of amusement. He has, however, been warned that the next time he comes drunk to the workshop he will be discharged; and as he is a clever young fellow, and knows more about the Bible than you, having gone to Sabbath-school when a boy, and is able to use up the saints cleverly, you would be sorry to lose his company. So you set on him to go with you to hear a temperance lecture, hoping that he may be induced to take the pledge; for if he does not you fear he will soon lie in the gutter. He curses you, and himself too, if ever he listens to any such stuff; and refuses to go. You can easily gather a hundred other illustrations of the great law of the moral repulsion between vice and truth, expressed in the following formula: "_This is the condemnation, that light is come into the world, and men loved darkness rather than light, because their deeds were evil. For every one that doeth evil hateth the light, neither cometh to the light, lest his deeds should be reproved._"[382] Your life, however, is but a long illustration of this principle. Have you not willingly remained in ignorance of the contents of the Bible, because you dislike its commands? There is another fact of the same science--there, in the gutter before you, wallowing in his own vomit, covered with rags, besmeared with mud, smelling worse than a hog, his bruised and bleeding mouth unable to articulate the obscenities and curses he tries to utter. "Is it possible that can be Bill Brown! Why, only three years ago we worked at the same bench. It was he who introduced me to the Sunday Institute; as clever a workman and as jovial a comrade as I ever knew, but would get on a spree now and again. He had a good father and mother, got considerable schooling, had good wages, got married to a clever girl, and had two fine children. Is it possible he could make such a beast of himself in such a short time?" Yes, quite possible, and more, quite certain. Not only in his case, but in all others, the law of moral gravitation is universal and infallible. "_Evil men and seducers wax worse and worse._"[383] The degradation may not always be in this precise form, nor always as speedy; as all heavy bodies do not fall to the same place, nor with like rapidity. But it is always as certain and always as deep, and will one day be far more public. Fix it firmly in your mind. It concerns you more than all the science you will ever know. You, too, are in the course of sin, and you know it. You have already begun to fall. Come again into this room. "What, into a prayer-meeting? I don't go to such places." But, if you want to study the phenomena of religion scientifically, you should go to such places; just as if you want to study geology, you should go to the places where the strata are exposed to view. I do not ask you to speak, and to ask people to pray for you, but only to look on and listen. If you are a philosopher I wish you to cease dogmatizing about fanaticism, and enthusiasm, and the ignorance, and credulity of believers, at least until you philosophically examine the evidence upon which they believe. You can set aside, if you please, their unfounded beliefs concerning matters beyond their capacity, and also their confident hopes for futurity. What I wish you to examine is their _actual experience of religion_, as they severally relate it. For as we have seen, the facts of consciousness are just as certain, and as ascertainable, as the facts discovered by our senses; and there is no reason in the world why we should not pursue the study of religion in the same way that we gain a knowledge of science; namely, by collecting and studying the facts accumulated by those who have made experiments, and have obtained a practical knowledge of the matter. There are here, as you see, a great number of religious experimenters. They are also of very various conditions of life, and of various degrees of education. Many of them are moreover well known to you, so that you are in a favorable position for forming a fair judgment of their discoveries. There is your comrade Smith, Hopkins who does the hauling for your establishment, Lawyer Hammond, Professor Edwards, whose chemical lectures you attend, Dr. Lawrence, who lectured before the Lyceum last winter, Mr. Heidenberger, who wrote a series of articles on Comte's Positive Philosophy for the Investigator, Mrs. Bridgman, your Aunt Polly, who nursed you during your typhoid fever, and a great many others whom you know quite well. Professor Edwards leads in prayer, and gives a brief address. You never dreamt that he was hoaxing you when he told you of his chemical experience; have you any reason to offer for believing that he now solemnly, and in the presence of God, lies to you and to this assembly, when he tells you of the peace he has found in believing in Christ, and the happiness he experiences in uniting with his brethren in the worship of God? Or is he more liable to error in noting the fact of his mental joy or sorrow, than in observing the effect of the extraordinary ray in double refraction? If not, the fact that he has felt this religious experience, is just as certain as the fact, that he has seen polarized light. There is your comrade Smith, whom you have known for years, actually got up to speak in meeting. You are surprised; but listen: "Neighbors and friends, most of you know I never cared much about religion, and was often given to take more liquor than was good for me, and then I would fight and curse awful bad. I knew as well as anybody that it wasn't right, and always felt bad after a spree, and many a time I said I would turn over a new leaf, and be good. But it was all no use, for as soon as any of the fellows would come around after me, I always went along with them, till at last I gave it up and said it was no use to try. Still, whenever any of my acquaintances died, I felt scared like; and I kept away as far as I could from churches and preachers and such like, because I could not bear to think about God and judgment to come. Well, about five weeks ago my little Minnie set on me one Sabbath morning to carry her to church, and to please the little creature--for she is as pert a darling as you could see anywhere--I told my wife to get her ready, and we would go. She seemed as if she would cry, and kept talking to herself all the way. When we got into the church the singing almost upset me, for I had not been to a church since I was a little fellow, just before father and mother died. But it seemed as if it was the same tune, and as if the tune brought them all back, and as if I saw them again and all the family, and heard mother sing as she used to, and I forgot church and everything, and thought I was a little fellow playing about on the floor just as I used to do when I was a happy child. When they stopped I was so sorry, and wished I could just be as innocent and as happy as I was then. Well, it seemed like the preacher had been reading my thoughts, for he gave out for his text, '_Verily, verily, I say unto you, unless a man be born again he can not see the kingdom of God._' He began to preach how Jesus can give us new hearts, and save us from our sins; that his blood cleanses from all sin; that he is able to save to the uttermost all that come unto God through him. The tears came into my eyes, and I could hardly keep my mouth shut till I got out. When I got home I knelt down, and cried to Jesus to save me from my sins; and my wife prayed too, and we cried for mercy. The Lord heard us, and I felt light and happy, and I went to church again, and sung with the rest. And the best of it is, the Lord delivered me from the drink; as I told a man who asked where I was going to-day, and I told him I was going to prayer-meeting, for I had got religion now. He said there were a great many religions, and most of them wrong, and a great many people said all religion was only a notion, and preaching only nonsense. I says to him, 'Look here, stranger, do you see that tavern there?' 'Yes,' says he. 'Well,' says I, 'do you see me?' 'I do, of course,' says he. 'Well,' says I, 'every little fellow in these parts knows that so long as Tom Smith had a quarter in his pocket he could never pass that tavern without having a drink. All the men in Jefferson could not stop him. Now look here,' says I, 'there is my week's wages, and I can go past, and thank God I don't feel the least like drinking, for the Lord Jesus has saved me from it. If you call that a notion, it is a mighty powerful notion, and it is a notion that has put clothes on my children's backs, and plenty of good food on my table, and songs of praise to the Lord in my mouth. _That's a fact, stranger._ Glory be to God for it. And I would recommend you to come to prayer-meeting with me, and maybe you would get religion too. A great many people are getting religion now.'" His last remark is certainly very true. There are so many, and of such various characters and grades of life, and in so many places, that every reader can easily find several Tom Smiths of his own acquaintance, whose conversions display all the essential facts of this case, and prove that: 5. The facts of religious experience _are better attested, and more unobjectionable_ than those of any other science. Unless they can be shown to be unreasonable or impossible, we are bound to receive them, when presented by the experimentists who have discovered them, though personally we may not have any such experience; just as we believe the chemists, or the astronomers who relate their discoveries which personally we have not observed. But the facts of religion are _by no means unreasonable_. They can not be shown to contradict any known law of the human mind. It is true they are mysterious. But so are the facts of physical science--heat, light, electricity, gravitation. Of either, we may be quite certain that such phenomena exist, and utterly ignorant of the mode of their operation. It were as utterly unphilosophical to deny that Almighty God could impart nervous energy to the languid limbs of your sick neighbor, because you are ignorant of its origin and means of transmission, as to deny that God could impart spiritual electricity to his paralyzed soul, because you are ignorant of the mode in which he bestows it. And ignorance is all that you can plead in this case. You must just admit that having tried an experiment which you have not, your religious friend has a right to know more than you. Moreover, the facts of religion are presented for belief upon _the most abundant and reliable testimony_. In physical science you must rely on the testimony of a very few observers--the great bulk even of scientific men having no opportunity of testing the facts themselves, and being well satisfied if any fact is confirmed by the testimony of two or three philosophers--and this testimony often contradictory, and always fallible, as the discordant results of their experiments prove. But here you have a great multitude of experimentists, in every city and village of the land, of every variety of intellect and education, prosecuting the same course of experiments, and all arriving at the same results. They do not all confess the _same_ sins, but they all felt the power of _some_ sin, and felt miserable in their guilt. And however they may differ in their external circumstances, their inward constitution, or in their views of the outward part of religion, there is no difference among them about the great facts of their religious experience. They all believed the faithful saying that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners, cried to God for mercy through him, and received peace of mind, grace to live a new life, and to delight in the worship of God. Do you know any science which has been prosecuted by one-hundredth part of this number of inquirers? Which has been confirmed by one-thousandth part of this number of experimenters? Or any experiment tried with such uniform and unfailing success as this, "_Whosoever shall call on the name of the Lord shall be saved?_"[384] Why then do you hesitate to admit the correctness of these facts? Is it because you perceive they lead to results which you dislike? They do lead to results. They are effects and tell us of a cause. They are powerful effects, and proclaim a powerful cause. They are moral and spiritual effects, and assure us of the existence of a moral and spiritual agent who has caused them. They are holy effects, and convince your sinful soul that they are produced by a holy being. But they are also benevolent, life-giving, blessed effects, and proclaim that God is love. The Lord, the Spirit, is as plainly declared in the facts of religious experience, as the Creator is in the creation of the universe; and it were as rank Atheism to attribute these orderly and blessed results to chance or to evil passions, as to attribute the Cosmos to blind fate, or to the beasts that perish. He is as much an enemy to his happiness who denies the one, as a foe to his reason who rejects the other. Dear reader, why should you not believe in, 6. _The only science which can make you happy?_ which can bestow peace of mind, nerve you to conquer your evil habits, enable you to live a holy and happy life, and to die with a blessed hope of a glorious resurrection? You know there is no science which makes any such offers, or which you would believe if it did. But the Bible unfolds a science which does, and enables you to believe it too. The facts of religious experience give most convincing evidence of the reality and power of the grace of God. It were as easy to persuade a Christian that he had produced this change of heart and life by the excitement of his own feelings, as that he had kindled the sun with a lucifer match. And the character of the work and the worker assures him that it will not be left unfinished. His faith receives these facts of religious experience as the first installments upon God's bonds, and as pledges for the payment of the remainder of his promises. The joy and peace which God gives him now, prove most satisfactorily his ability and willingness to give him larger measures of these enjoyments when he is capable of receiving them. Just as we have good reason to believe that he who has made the sun to rise out of darkness will guide him onward in his course to perfect day, have we also good reason to believe that he that hath begun the good work of his grace in us will perform it until the day of Jesus Christ. Christ is in us the hope of glory. This eternal life, which is begun in our souls, is so much superior to mere animal vitality, that we can not doubt that he who has given us the greater, will also give us the lesser, and quicken our mortal bodies also, by his Spirit which dwelleth in us. We know that our Redeemer liveth. 7. And now, in conclusion, dear reader, we ask you not to take these things on our testimony, nor yet on our experience; _but to try for yourself_. Oh taste and see that the Lord is good. Come see the Savior who has saved us, and be saved by him too. There is nothing more dangerous, unless resisting the evidence of the truth as it is in Jesus, than acknowledging this to be truth without immediately obeying the gospel. God requires your immediate and cordial acceptance of Christ to save you from your sins. He tells you that the only way of escape from your sins now and from hell hereafter is through him; for there is none other name given under heaven or among men whereby you must be saved. He promises to hear your prayer and give you his Holy Spirit to work in you the work of faith with power, if you will only and earnestly ask. "_Ask, and it shall be given you; seek, and ye shall find; knock, and it shall be opened unto you: What man is there of you whom if his son ask bread, will he give him a stone? Or if he ask a fish, will he give him a serpent? If ye then being evil know how to give good gifts unto your children, how much more shall your Father which is in heaven give good things to them that ask him?_"[385] Thus you will come to possess an actual experimental knowledge of the most excellent of the sciences. In the present begun enjoyment of eternal life you will, not merely believe in, but positively _know_, its Author, the only true God, and Jesus Christ whom he hath sent. You will rest in no fallible and erring testimony of man's wisdom, but your faith will stand in the power of God. You will be able to say, "_Now we believe not because of thy sayings: for we have heard him ourselves, and_ KNOW _that this is indeed the Christ, the Savior of the World._"[386] Hear God's own warrant and invitation to your poor, thirsty soul, to forsake your vanities and come and be eternally blessed in Christ. Have the witness in yourself and be a living proof of the blessed reality of religion. "Ho every one that thirsteth! Come ye to the waters! And he who hath no money! Come ye, buy and eat! Yea, come! Buy wine and milk without money and without price. Wherefore do ye spend money for that which is not bread? And your labor for that which satisfieth not? Hearken diligently unto me and eat ye that which is good, And let your soul delight itself in fatness. Incline your ear and come unto me: Hear and your soul shall live: And I will make an everlasting covenant with you, Even the sure mercies of David. Behold! I have given him for a witness to the people, A leader and a commander to the people: Behold! thou shall call nations that thou knowest not, And nations that knew not thee shall run unto thee, Because of the Lord thy God, And for the Holy One of Israel, for he hath glorified thee. "Seek ye the Lord while he may be found, Call ye upon him while he is near: Let the wicked forsake his way, And the unrighteous man his thoughts; And let him return unto the Lord, and he will have mercy upon him, And to our God for he will abundantly pardon. For my thoughts are not your thoughts, Neither are your ways my ways, saith the Lord. For as the heavens are higher than the earth, So are my ways higher than your ways, And my thoughts than your thoughts. For as the rain cometh down, and the snow from heaven, And return not thither again, But water the earth, and cause it to bring forth and bud, That it may give seed to the sower, and bread to the eater; So shall my word be that goeth forth out of my mouth: It shall not return unto me void, But it shall accomplish that which I please, And it shall prosper in the thing whereto I sent it. For ye shall go out with joy, and be led forth with peace. The mountains and the hills shall break forth before you into singing, And all the trees of the fields shall clap their hands. Instead of the thorn shall come up the fir tree, And instead of the brier shall come up the myrtle tree: _And it shall be to the Lord for a name, For an everlasting sign that shall not be cut off._" FOOTNOTES: [322] Holyoak's Discussion with Grant and Tonney. [323] Bacon Novum Organum, I. xlix. xlvi. [324] Sir W. Hamilton's Lectures, I. 53. [325] Journal of Speculative Philosophy, I. 20. [326] Humboldt, _Cosmos_, Vol. I. p. 7, 156. [327] Our Inheritance in the Great Pyramid, 356. [328] Annual of Scientific Discovery, 1852. [329] Annual of Scientific Discovery, 1852. [330] _Cosmos_, 4, 518. Dick's _Celestial Scenery_, chap. III. Sec. 7. [331] _Cosmos_, 1, 75. Loomis' _Progress of Astronomy_, pp. 34, 40 [332] Loomis' _Progress of Astronomy_, p. 34, etc. [333] _Outlines of Astronomy_, III. Sec. 13, 140. [334] Thus several of the best telescopes in the world are rendered nearly useless by the passage of heavy railroad trains in their vicinity. [335] Somerville's Physical Sciences, VI. [336] Cosmos IV. 477. Phillips' Address to the British Association, 1865. [337] North British Review, LXV. [338] Annual of Scientific Discovery, 1864, 158. [339] Cosmos I. 109. [340] Cosmos IV. 501. [341] Cosmos IV. 378. [342] Harper's Magazine, June, 1872, p. 149. [343] Annual Scientific Discovery, 1864, 134. [344] Cosmos III. 40; IV. 363. Annual, 1861, 395, 396. [345] Cosmos IV. 474. [346] Kendall's Uranography, p. 11. [347] Cosmos, 443-5. [348] North British Review, No. LXV. [349] Annual of Scientific Discovery, 1852, 119. [350] Annual of Scientific Discovery, 1854, 150. [351] Cosmos III. 115. [352] Annual of Scientific Discovery, 1860. [353] Annual of Scientific Discovery, 1852, 139. [354] Annual of Scientific Discovery, 1864, 166. [355] Plurality of Worlds, XII. [356] North British Review, LXV. [357] God's Glory in the Heavens, 168. [358] Annual Scientific Discovery, 1863, 324. [359] Cosmos IV. 378. [360] See this proved chapter XI., _Daylight Before Sunrise_. [361] See the possibility of such a source of volcanic action, of such a formation of plutonic rocks, proved by Lyell. _Principles_, chaps. XXXII. and XII. [362] Sir David Brewster, K. H., D. C. L., F. R. S., _More Worlds than One_, p. 56. [363] _Rudiments of Geology_, W. & R. Chambers, p. 10. [364] Lyell's _Principles of Geology_, p. 3. [365] Miller, _Old Red Sandstone_, p. 25. [366] Hugh Miller, _Footprints of the Creator_, p. 313. [367] American Cyclopædia, 1863, p. 374. Annual of Scientific Discovery, 1861, p. 351. [368] London Quarterly Review, 1866, No. 51, p. 240. [369] Lyell's Second Visit to the United States. [370] _The Advance_, Chicago, May 28, 1868. [371] Geological Time. [372] _Principles_, Chaps. III. and IV. [373] _Principles_, chap. XI. [374] _Principles_, p. 530. [375] _Principles_, chap. XXXI. [376] Chambers' Cyclopædia Art. Appalachians. [377] Types of Mankind, 329, 335, 338. [378] The American Journal of Science and Art, edited by Profs. Silliman and Dana, XXVI. 235, 300. [379] Frazer--Blending Lights, p. 113. [380] De Vore's _Modern Magic_, 58. [381] Isaiah, chap. xlviii. 22. [382] John, chap. iii. [383] 2 Timothy, chap. iii. Read the whole chapter. [384] Romans, chap. x. Read the chapter. [385] The Sermon on the Mount. Read it all. [386] John, chap. iv. [THE END.] Transcriber's Notes: Missing punctuation, including periods, hyphens, and commas, has been added. Obvious typographical errors have been corrected. Variations in spelling have been left as in the original in the following words: coveredst coverest orang-otang orang-outang water-skin waterskin The following words use an oe ligature in the original: foetus Phoenician Phoebus Phoenicians Phoenicia The spelling of the last name of Scottish astronomer John Pringle Nichol has been corrected throughout the text. The spelling of the last name of French naturalist Jean-Baptiste Lamarck has been corrected throughout the text. The spelling of the last name of French physicist Claude-Servais-Mathias Pouillet has been corrected throughout the text. The spelling of the last name of Hellenistic astrologer Vettius Valens has been corrected throughout the text. The spelling of the last name of French mathematician Urbain Jean Joseph Le Verrier has been corrected throughout the text. A series of three asterisks * * * represents an ellipsis in the text. Shorter and longer rows of asterisks have been standardized to three asterisks. The carat ^ character indicates that the following numbers (enclosed in {} brackets) are superscripted in the original. The mathematical formula 4+3/2 is rendered 4 + 1-1/2 in the original. Footnote 15 reads "Origin of Species, 4, 10, 127, 9, 97, 100, 409, 410, 415, 423. Descent of Man, 192, 204, and II.--15, 257." The page number "9" is probably a typographical error, but it has been left as in the original. 
19613	----	HISTORY OF DOGMA BY DR. ADOLPH HARNACK ORDINARY PROF. OF CHURCH HISTORY IN THE UNIVERSITY, AND FELLOW OF THE ROYAL ACADEMY OF SCIENCE, BERLIN _TRANSLATED FROM THE THIRD GERMAN EDITION_ BY NEIL BUCHANAN VOL. II. BOSTON LITTLE, BROWN, AND COMPANY 1901 CONTENTS CHAPTER I.--Historical Survey The Old and New Elements in the formation of the Catholic Church; The fixing of that which is Apostolic (Rule of Faith, Collection of Writings, Organization, Cultus); The Stages in the Genesis of the Catholic Rule of Faith, the Apologists; Irenæus, Tertullian, Hippolytus; Clement and Origen; Obscurities in reference to the origin of the most important Institutions; Difficulties in determining the importance of individual Personalities; Differences of development in the Churches of different countries. I. FIXING AND GRADUAL SECULARISING OF CHRISTIANITY AS A CHURCH CHAPTER II.--The setting up of the Apostolic Standards for Ecclesiastical Christianity. The Catholic Church A. The transformation of the Baptismal Confession into the Apostolic Rule of Faith Necessities for setting up the Apostolic Rule of Faith; The Rule of Faith is the Baptismal Confession definitely interpreted; Estimate of this transformation; Irenæus; Tertullian; Results of the transformation; Slower development in Alexandria: Clement and Origen. B. The designation of selected writings read in the Churches as New Testament Scriptures or, in other words, as a collection of Apostolic Writings Plausible arguments against the statement that up to the year 150 there was no New Testament in the Church; Sudden emergence of the New Testament in the Muratorian Fragment, in (Melito) Irenæus and Tertullian; Conditions under which the New Testament originated; Relation of the New Testament to the earlier writings that were read in the Churches; Causes and motives for the formation of the Canon, manner of using and results of the New Testament; The Apostolic collection of writings can be proved at first only in those Churches in which we find the Apostolic Rule of Faith; probably there was no New Testament in Antioch about the year 200, nor in Alexandria (Clement); Probable history of the genesis of the New Testament in Alexandria up to the time of Origen; ADDENDUM. The results which the creation of the New Testament produced in the following period. C. The transformation of the Episcopal Office in the Church into an Apostolic Office. The History of the remodelling of the conception of the Church The legitimising of the Rule of Faith by the Communities which were founded by the Apostles; By the "Elders"; By the Bishops of Apostolic Churches (disciples of Apostles); By the Bishops as such, who have received the Apostolic _Charisma veritatis_; Excursus on the conceptions of the Alexandrians; The Bishops as successors of the Apostles; Original idea of the Church as the Holy Community that comes from Heaven and is destined for it; The Church as the empiric Catholic Communion resting on the Law of Faith; Obscurities in the idea of the Church as held by Irenæus and Tertullian; By Clement and Origen; Transition to the Hierarchical idea of the Church; The Hierarchical idea of the Church: Calixtus and Cyprian; Appendix I. Cyprian's idea of the Church and the actual circumstances; Appendix II. Church and Heresy; Appendix III. Uncertainties regarding the consequences of the new idea of the Church. CHAPTER III.--Continuation.--The Old Christianity and the New Church Introduction; The Original Montanism; The later Montanism as the dregs of the movement and as the product of a compromise; The opposition to the demands of the Montanists by the Catholic Bishops: importance of the victory for the Church; History of penance: the old practice; The laxer practice in the days of Tertullian and Hippolytus; The abolition of the old practice in the days of Cyprian; Significance of the new kind of penance for the idea of the Church; the Church no longer a Communion of Salvation and of Saints, but a condition of Salvation and a Holy Institution and thereby a _corpus permixtum_; After effect of the old idea of the Church in Cyprian; Origen's idea of the Church; Novatian's idea of the Church and of penance, the Church of the Catharists; Conclusion: the Catholic Church as capable of being a support to society and the state; Addenda I. The Priesthood; Addenda II. Sacrifice; Addenda III. Means of Grace. Baptism and the Eucharist; Excursus to Chapters II. and III.--Catholic and Roman. II. FIXING AND GRADUAL HELLENISING OF CHRISTIANITY AS A SYSTEM OF DOCTRINE CHAPTER IV.--Ecclesiastical Christianity and Philosophy; The Apologists 1. Introduction The historical position of the Apologists; Apologists and Gnostics; Nature and importance of the Apologists' theology. 2. Christianity as Philosophy and as Revelation Aristides; Justin; Athenagoras; Miltiades, Melito; Tatian; Pseudo-Justin, Orat. ad Gr.; Theophilus; Pseudo-Justin, de Resurr.; Tertullian and Minucius; Pseudo-Justin, de Monarch.; Results. 3. The doctrines of Christianity as the revealed and rational religion Arrangement; The Monotheistic Cosmology; Theology; Doctrine of the Logos; Doctrine of the World and of Man; Doctrine of Freedom and Morality; Doctrine of Revelation (Proofs from Prophecy); Significance of the History of Jesus; Christology of Justin; Interpretation and Criticism, especially of Justin's doctrines. CHAPTER V.--The Beginnings of an Ecclesiastico-theological interpretation and revision of the Rule of Faith in opposition to Gnosticism, on the basis of the New Testament and the Christian Philosophy of the Apologists, Melito, Irenæus, Tertullian, Hippolytus, Novatian 1. The theological position of Irenæus and of the later contemporary Church teachers Characteristics of the theology of the Old Catholic Fathers, their wavering between Reason and Tradition; Loose structure of their Dogmas; Irenæus' attempt to construct a systematic theology and his fundamental theological convictions; Gnostic and anti-Gnostic features of his theology; Christianity conceived as a real redemption by Christ (recapitulatio); His conception of a history of salvation; His historical significance: conserving of tradition and gradual hellenising of the Rule of Faith. 2. The Old Catholic Fathers' doctrine of the Church The Antithesis to Gnosticism; The "Scripture theology" as a sign of the dependence on "Gnosticism" and as a means of conserving tradition; The Doctrine of God; The Logos Doctrine of Tertullian and Hippolytus; (Conceptions regarding the Holy Spirit); Irenæus' doctrine of the Logos; (Conceptions regarding the Holy Spirit); The views of Irenæus regarding the destination of man, the original state, the fall and the doom of death (the disparate series of ideas in Irenæus; rudiments of the doctrine of original sin in Tertullian); The doctrine of Jesus Christ as the incarnate son of God; Assertion of the complete mixture and unity of the divine and human elements; Significance of Mary; Tertullian's doctrine of the two natures and its origin; Rudiments of this doctrine in Irenæus; The Gnostic character of this doctrine; Christology of Hippolytus; Views as to Christ's work; Redemption, Perfection; Reconciliation; Categories for the fruit of Christ's work; Things peculiar to Tertullian; Satisfacere Deo; The Soul as the Bride of Christ; The Eschatology; Its archaic nature, its incompatibility with speculation and the advantage of connection with that; Conflict with Chiliasm in the East; The doctrine of the two Testaments; The influence of Gnosticism on the estimate of the two Testaments, the _complexus oppositorum_; the Old Testament a uniform Christian Book as in the Apologists; The Old Testament a preliminary stage of the New Testament and a compound Book; The stages in the history of salvation; The law of freedom the climax of the revelation in Christ. 3. Results to Ecclesiastical Christianity, chiefly in the West, (Cyprian, Novation) CHAPTER VI.--The Transformation of the Ecclesiastical Tradition into a Philosophy of Religion, or the Origin of the Scientific Theology and Dogmatic of the Church: Clement and Origen (1) The Alexandrian Catechetical School and Clement of Alexandria Schools and Teachers in the Church at the end of the second and the beginning of the third century; scientific efforts (Alogi in Asia Minor, Cappadocian Scholars, Bardesanes of Edessa, Julius Africanus, Scholars in Palestine, Rome and Carthage); The Alexandrian Catechetical School. Clement; The temper of Clement and his importance in the History of Dogma; his relation to Irenæus, to the Gnostics and to primitive Christianity; his philosophy of Religion; Clement and Origen (2) The system of Origen Introductory: The personality and importance of Origen; The Elements of Origen's theology; its Gnostic features; The relative view of Origen; His temper and final aim: relation to Greek Philosophy; Theology as a Philosophy of Revelation, and a cosmological speculation; Porphyry on Origen; The neutralising of History, esoteric and exoteric Christianity; Fundamental ideas and arrangement of his system; Sources of truth, doctrine of Scripture. I. The Doctrine of God and its unfolding Doctrine of God; Doctrine of the Logos; Clement's doctrine of the Logos; Doctrine of the Holy Spirit; Doctrine of Spirits. II. Doctrine of the Fall and its consequences Doctrine of Man III. Doctrine of Redemption and Restoration The notions necessary to the Psychical; The Christology; The Appropriation of Salvation; The Eschatology; Concluding Remarks: The importance of this system to the following period. DIVISION I BOOK II. THE LAYING OF THE FOUNDATIONS. CHAPTER I. HISTORICAL SURVEY. The second century of the existence of Gentile-Christian communities was characterised by the victorious conflict with Gnosticism and the Marcionite Church, by the gradual development of an ecclesiastical doctrine, and by the decay of the early Christian enthusiasm. The general result was the establishment of a great ecclesiastical association, which, forming at one and the same time a political commonwealth, school and union for worship, was based on the firm foundation of an "apostolic" law of faith, a collection of "apostolic" writings, and finally, an "apostolic" organisation. This institution was _the Catholic Church_.[1] In opposition to Gnosticism and Marcionitism, the main articles forming the estate and possession of orthodox Christianity were raised to the rank of apostolic regulations and laws, and thereby placed beyond all discussion and assault. At first the innovations introduced by this were not of a material, but of a formal, character. Hence they were not noticed by any of those who had never, or only in a vague fashion, been elevated to the feeling and idea of freedom and independence in religion. How great the innovations actually were, however, may be measured by the fact that they signified a scholastic tutelage of the faith of the individual Christian, and restricted the immediateness of religious feelings and ideas to the narrowest limits. But the conflict with the so-called Montanism showed that there were still a considerable number of Christians who valued that immediateness and freedom; these were, however, defeated. The fixing of the tradition under the title of apostolic necessarily led to the assumption that whoever held the apostolic doctrine was also essentially a Christian in the apostolic sense. This assumption, quite apart from the innovations which were legitimised by tracing them to the Apostles, meant the separation of doctrine and conduct, the preference of the former to the latter, and the transformation of a fellowship of faith, hope, and discipline into a communion "eiusdem sacramenti," that is, into a union which, like the philosophical schools, rested on a doctrinal law, and which was subject to a legal code of divine institution.[2] The movement which resulted in the Catholic Church owes its right to a place in the history of Christianity to the victory over Gnosticism and to the preservation of an important part of early Christian tradition. If Gnosticism in all its phases was the violent attempt to drag Christianity down to the level of the Greek world, and to rob it of its dearest possession, belief in the Almighty God of creation and redemption, then Catholicism, inasmuch as it secured this belief for the Greeks, preserved the Old Testament, and supplemented it with early Christian writings, thereby saving--as far as documents, at least, were concerned--and proclaiming the authority of an important part of primitive Christianity, must in one respect be acknowledged as a conservative force born from the vigour of Christianity. If we put aside abstract considerations and merely look at the facts of the given situation, we cannot but admire a creation which first broke up the various outside forces assailing Christianity, and in which the highest blessings of this faith have always continued to be accessible. If the founder of the Christian religion had deemed belief in the Gospel and a life in accordance with it to be compatible with membership of the Synagogue and observance of the Jewish law, there could at least be no impossibility of adhering to the Gospel within the Catholic Church. Still, that is only one side of the case. The older Catholicism never clearly put the question, "What is Christian?" Instead of answering that question it rather laid down rules, the recognition of which was to be the guarantee of Christianism. This solution of the problem seems to be on the one hand too narrow and on the other too broad. Too narrow, because it bound Christianity to rules under which it necessarily languished; too broad, because it did not in any way exclude the introduction of new and foreign conceptions. In throwing a protective covering round the Gospel, Catholicism also obscured it. It preserved Christianity from being hellenised to the most extreme extent, but, as time went on, it was forced to admit into this religion an ever greater measure of secularisation. In the interests of its world-wide mission it did not indeed directly disguise the terrible seriousness of religion, but, by tolerating a less strict ideal of life, it made it possible for those less in earnest to be considered Christians, and to regard themselves as such. It permitted the genesis of a Church, which was no longer a communion of faith, hope, and discipline, but a political commonwealth in which the Gospel merely had a place beside other things.[3] In ever increasing measure it invested all the forms which this secular commonwealth required with apostolic, that is, indirectly, with divine authority. This course disfigured Christianity and made a knowledge of what is Christian an obscure and difficult matter. But, in Catholicism, religion for the first time obtained a formal dogmatic system. Catholic Christianity discovered the formula which reconciled faith and knowledge. This formula satisfied humanity for centuries, and the blessed effects which it accomplished continued to operate even after it had itself already become a fetter. Catholic Christianity grew out of two converging series of developments. In the one were set up fixed outer standards for determining what is Christian, and these standards were proclaimed to be apostolic institutions. The baptismal confession was exalted to an apostolic rule of faith, that is, to an apostolic law of faith. A collection of apostolic writings was formed from those read in the Churches, and this compilation was placed on an equal footing with the Old Testament. The episcopal and monarchical constitution was declared to be apostolic, and the attribute of successor of the Apostles was conferred on the bishop. Finally, the religious ceremonial developed into a celebration of mysteries, which was in like manner traced back to the Apostles. The result of these institutions was a strictly exclusive Church in the form of a communion of doctrine, ceremonial, and law, a confederation which more and more gathered the various communities within its pale, and brought about the decline of all nonconforming sects. The confederation was primarily based on a common confession, which, however, was not only conceived as "law," but was also very soon supplemented by new standards. One of the most important problems to be investigated in the history of dogma, and one which unfortunately cannot be completely solved, is to show what necessities led to the setting up of a new canon of Scripture, what circumstances required the appearance of living authorities in the communities, and what relation was established between the apostolic rule of faith, the apostolic canon of Scripture, and the apostolic office. The development ended with the formation of a clerical class, at whose head stood the bishop, who united in himself all conceivable powers, as teacher, priest, and judge. He disposed of the powers of Christianity, guaranteed its purity, and therefore in every respect held the Christian laity in tutelage. But even apart from the content which Christianity here received, this process in itself represents a progressive secularising of the Church, This would be self-evident enough, even if it were not confirmed by noting the fact that the process had already been to some extent anticipated in the so-called Gnosticism (See vol. I. p. 253 and Tertullian, de præscr. 35). But the element which the latter lacked, namely, a firmly welded, suitably regulated constitution, must by no means be regarded as one originally belonging and essential to Christianity. The depotentiation to which Christianity was here subjected appears still more plainly in the facts, that the Christian hopes were deadened, that the secularising of the Christian life was tolerated and even legitimised, and that the manifestations of an unconditional devotion to the heavenly excited suspicion or were compelled to confine themselves to very narrow limits. But these considerations are scarcely needed as soon as we turn our attention to the second series of developments that make up the history of this period. The Church did not merely set up dykes and walls against Gnosticism in order to ward it off externally, nor was she satisfied with defending against it the facts which were the objects of her belief and hope; but, taking the creed for granted, she began to follow this heresy into its own special territory and to combat it with a scientific theology. That was a necessity which did not first spring from Christianity's own internal struggles. It was already involved in the fact that the Christian Church had been joined by cultured Greeks, who felt the need of justifying their Christianity to themselves and the world, and of presenting it as the desired and certain answer to all the pressing questions which then occupied men's minds. The beginning of a development which a century later reached its provisional completion in the theology of Origen, that is, in the transformation of the Gospel into a scientific system of ecclesiastical doctrine, appears in the Christian Apologetic, as we already find it before the middle of the second century. As regards its content, this system of doctrine meant the legitimising of Greek philosophy within the sphere of the rule of faith. The theology of Origen bears the same relation to the New Testament as that of Philo does to the Old. What is here presented as Christianity is in fact the idealistic religious philosophy of the age, attested by divine revelation, made accessible to all by the incarnation of the Logos, and purified from any connection with Greek mythology and gross polytheism.[4] A motley multitude of primitive Christian ideas and hopes, derived from both Testaments, and too brittle to be completely recast, as yet enclosed the kernel. But the majority of these were successfully manipulated by theological art, and the traditional rule of faith was transformed into a system of doctrine, in which, to some extent, the old articles found only a nominal place.[5] This hellenising of ecclesiastical Christianity, by which we do not mean the Gospel, was not a gradual process; for the truth rather is that it was already accomplished the moment that the reflective Greek confronted the new religion which he had accepted. The Christianity of men like Justin, Athenagoras, and Minucius is not a whit less Hellenistic than that of Origen. But yet an important distinction obtains here. It is twofold. In the first place, those Apologists did not yet find themselves face to face with a fixed collection of writings having a title to be reverenced as Christian; they have to do with the Old Testament and the "Teachings of Christ" ([Greek: didagmata Christou]). In the second place, they do not yet regard the scientific presentation of Christianity as the main task and as one which this religion itself demands. As they really never enquired what was meant by "Christian," or at least never put the question clearly to themselves, they never claimed that their scientific presentation of Christianity was the first proper expression of it that had been given. Justin and his contemporaries make it perfectly clear that they consider the traditional faith existing in the churches to be complete and pure and in itself requiring no scientific revision. In a word, the gulf which existed between the religious thought of philosophers and the sum of Christian tradition is still altogether unperceived, because that tradition was not yet fixed in rigid forms, because no religious utterance testifying to monotheism, virtue, and reward was as yet threatened by any control, and finally, because the speech of philosophy was only understood by a small minority in the Church, though its interests and aims were not unknown to most. Christian thinkers were therefore still free to divest of their direct religious value all realistic and historical elements of the tradition, while still retaining them as parts of a huge apparatus of proof, which accomplished what was really the only thing that many sought in Christianity, viz., the assurance that the theory of the world obtained from other sources was the truth. The danger which here threatened Christianity as a religion was scarcely less serious than that which had been caused to it by the Gnostics. These remodelled tradition, the Apologists made it to some extent inoperative without attacking it. The latter were not disowned, but rather laid the foundation of Church theology, and determined the circle of interests within which it was to move in the future.[6] But the problem which the Apologists solved almost offhand, namely, the task of showing that Christianity was the perfect and certain philosophy, because it rested on revelation, and that it was the highest scientific knowledge of God and the world, was to be rendered more difficult. To these difficulties all that primitive Christianity has up to the present transmitted to the Church of succeeding times contributes its share. The conflict with Gnosticism made it necessary to find some sort of solution to the question, "What is Christian?" and to fix this answer. But indeed the Fathers were not able to answer the question confidently and definitely. They therefore made a selection from tradition and contented themselves with making it binding on Christians. Whatever was to lay claim to authority in the Church had henceforth to be in harmony with the rule of faith and the canon of New Testament Scriptures. That created an entirely new situation for Christian thinkers, that is, for those trying to solve the problem of subordinating Christianity to the Hellenic spirit. That spirit never became quite master of the situation; it was obliged to accommodate itself to it.[7] The work first began with the scientific treatment of individual articles contained in the rule of faith, partly with the view of disproving Gnostic conceptions, partly for the purpose of satisfying the Church's own needs. The framework in which these articles were placed virtually continued to be the apologetic theology, for this maintained a doctrine of God and the world, which seemed to correspond to the earliest tradition as much as it ran counter to the Gnostic theses. (Melito), Irenæus, Tertullian and Hippolytus, aided more or less by tradition on the one hand and by philosophy on the other, opposed to the Gnostic dogmas about Christianity the articles of the baptismal confession interpreted as a rule of faith, these articles being developed into doctrines. Here they undoubtedly learned very much from the Gnostics and Marcion. If we define ecclesiastical dogmas as propositions handed down in the creed of the Church, shown to exist in the Holy Scriptures of both Testaments, and rationally reproduced and formulated, then the men we have just mentioned were the first to set up dogmas[8]--dogmas but no system of dogmatics. As yet the difficulty of the problem was by no means perceived by these men either. Their peculiar capacity for sympathising with and understanding the traditional and the old still left them in a happy blindness. So far as they had a theology they supposed it to be nothing more than the explanation of the faith of the Christian multitude (yet Tertullian already noted the difference in one point, certainly a very characteristic one, viz., the Logos doctrine). They still lived in the belief that the Christianity which filled their minds required no scientific remodelling in order to be an expression of the highest knowledge, and that it was in all respects identical with the Christianity which even the most uncultivated could grasp. That this was an illusion is proved by many considerations, but most convincingly by the fact that Tertullian and Hippolytus had the main share in introducing into the doctrine of faith a philosophically formulated dogma, viz., that the Son of God is the Logos, and in having it made the _articulus constitutivus ecclesiæ_. The effects of this undertaking can never be too highly estimated, for the Logos doctrine is Greek philosophy _in nuce_, though primitive Christian views may have been subsequently incorporated with it. Its introduction into the creed of Christendom, which was, strictly speaking, the setting up _of the first dogma in the Church_, meant the future conversion of the rule of faith into a philosophic system. But in yet another respect Irenæus and Hippolytus denote an immense advance beyond the Apologists, which, paradoxically enough, results both from the progress of Christian Hellenism and from a deeper study of the Pauline theology, that is, emanates from the controversy with Gnosticism. In them a religious and realistic idea takes the place of the moralism of the Apologists, namely, the deifying of the human race through the incarnation of the Son of God. The apotheosis of mortal man through his acquisition of immortality (divine life) is the idea of salvation which was taught in the ancient mysteries. It is here adopted as a Christian one, supported by the Pauline theology (especially as contained in the Epistle to the Ephesians), and brought into the closest connection with the historical Christ, the Son of God and Son of man (filius dei et filius hominis). What the heathen faintly hoped for as a possibility was here announced as certain, and indeed as having already taken place. What a message! This conception was to become the central Christian idea of the future. A long time, however, elapsed before it made its way into the dogmatic system of the Church.[9] But meanwhile the huge gulf which existed between both Testaments and the rule of faith on the one hand, and the current ideas of the time on the other, had been recognized in Alexandria. It was not indeed felt as a gulf, for then either the one or the other would have had to be given up, but as a _problem_. If the Church tradition contained the assurance, not to be obtained elsewhere, of all that Greek culture knew, hoped for, and prized, and if for that very reason it was regarded as in every respect inviolable, then the absolutely indissoluble union of Christian tradition with the Greek philosophy of religion was placed beyond all doubt. But an immense number of problems were at the same time raised, especially when, as in the case of the Alexandrians, heathen syncretism in the entire breadth of its development was united with the doctrine of the Church. The task, which had been begun by Philo and carried on by Valentinus and his school, was now undertaken in the Church. Clement led the way in attempting a solution of the problem, but the huge task proved too much for him. Origen took it up under more difficult circumstances, and in a certain fashion brought it to a conclusion. He, the rival of the Neoplatonic philosophers, the Christian Philo, wrote the first Christian dogmatic, which competed with the philosophic systems of the time, and which, founded on the Scriptures of both Testaments, presents a peculiar union of the apologetic theology of a Justin and the Gnostic theology of a Valentinus, while keeping steadily in view a simple and highly practical aim. In this dogmatic the rule of faith is recast and that quite consciously. Origen did not conceal his conviction that Christianity finds its correct expression only in scientific knowledge, and that every form of Christianity that lacks theology is but a meagre kind with no clear consciousness of its own content. This conviction plainly shows that Origen was dealing with a different kind of Christianity, though his view that a mere relative distinction existed here may have its justification in the fact, that the untheological Christianity of the age with which he compared his own was already permeated by Hellenic elements and in a very great measure secularised.[10] But Origen, as well as Clement before him, had really a right to the conviction that the true essence of Christianity, or, in other words, the Gospel, is only arrived at by the aid of critical speculation; for was not the Gospel veiled and hidden in the canon of both Testaments, was it not displaced by the rule of faith, was it not crushed down, depotentiated, and disfigured in the Church which identified itself with the people of Christ? Clement and Origen found freedom and independence in what they recognized to be the essence of the matter and what they contrived with masterly skill to determine as its proper aim, after an examination of the huge apparatus of tradition. But was not that the ideal of Greek sages and philosophers? This question can by no means be flatly answered in the negative, and still less decidedly in the affirmative, for a new significance was here given to the ideal by representing it _as assured beyond all doubt, already realised_ in the person of Christ and incompatible with polytheism. If, as is manifestly the case, they found joy and peace in their faith and in the theory of the universe connected with it, if they prepared themselves for an eternal life and expected it with certainty, if they felt themselves to be perfect only through dependence on God, then, in spite of their Hellenism, they unquestionably came nearer to the Gospel than Irenæus with his slavish dependence on authority. The setting up of a scientific system of Christian dogmatics, which was still something different from the rule of faith, interpreted in an Antignostic sense, philosophically wrought out, and in some parts proved from the Bible, was a private undertaking of Origen, and at first only approved in limited circles. As yet, not only were certain bold changes of interpretation disputed in the Church, but the undertaking itself, as a whole, was disapproved.[11] The circumstances of the several provincial churches in the first half of the third century were still very diverse. Many communities had yet to adopt the basis that made them into Catholic ones; and in most, if not in all, the education of the clergy--not to speak of the laity--was not high enough to enable them to appreciate systematic theology. But the schools in which Origen taught carried on his work, similar ones were established, and these produced a number of the bishops and presbyters of the East in the last half of the third century. They had in their hands the means of culture afforded by the age, and this was all the more a guarantee of victory because the laity no longer took any part in deciding the form of religion. Wherever the Logos Christology had been adopted the future of Christian Hellenism was certain. At the beginning of the fourth century there was no community in Christendom which, apart from the Logos doctrine, possessed a purely philosophical theory that was regarded as an ecclesiastical dogma, to say nothing of an official scientific theology. But the system of Origen was a prophecy of the future. The Logos doctrine started the crystallising process which resulted in further deposits. Symbols of faith were already drawn up which contained a peculiar mixture of Origen's theology with the inflexible Antignostic _regula fidei_. One celebrated theologian, Methodius, endeavoured to unite the theology of Irenæus and Origen, ecclesiastical realism and philosophic spiritualism, under the badge of monastic mysticism. The developments of the following period therefore no longer appear surprising in any respect. As Catholicism, from every point of view, is the result of the blending of Christianity with the ideas of antiquity,[12] so the Catholic dogmatic, as it was developed after the second or third century on the basis of the Logos doctrine, is Christianity conceived and formulated from the standpoint of the Greek philosophy of religion.[13] This Christianity conquered the old world, and became the foundation of a new phase of history in the Middle Ages. The union of the Christian religion with a definite historical phase of human knowledge and culture may be lamented in the interest of the Christian religion, which was thereby secularised, and in the interest of the development of culture which was thereby retarded(?). But lamentations become here ill-founded assumptions, as absolutely everything that we have and value is due to the alliance that Christianity and antiquity concluded in such a way that neither was able to prevail over the other. Our inward and spiritual life, which owes the least part of its content to the empiric knowledge which we have acquired, is based up to the present moment on the discords resulting from that union. These hints are meant among other things to explain and justify[14] the arrangement chosen for the following presentation, which embraces the fundamental section of the history of Christian dogma.[15] A few more remarks are, however, necessary. 1. One special difficulty in ascertaining the genesis of the Catholic rules is that the churches, though on terms of close connection and mutual intercourse, had no real _forum publicum_, though indeed, in a certain sense, each bishop was _in foro publico_. As a rule, therefore, we can only see the advance in the establishment of fixed forms in the shape of results, without being able to state precisely the ways and means which led to them. We do indeed know the factors, and can therefore theoretically construct the development; but the real course of things is frequently hidden from us. The genesis of a harmonious Church, firmly welded together in doctrine and constitution, can no more have been the natural unpremeditated product of the conditions of the time than were the genesis and adoption of the New Testament canon of Scripture. But we have no direct evidence as to what communities had a special share in the development, although we know that the Roman Church played a leading part. Moreover, we can only conjecture that conferences, common measures, and synodical decisions were not wanting. It is certain that, beginning with the last quarter of the second century, there were held in the different provinces, mostly in the East, but later also in the West, Synods in which an understanding was arrived at on all questions of importance to Christianity, including, e.g., the extent of the canon.[16] 2. The degree of influence exercised by particular ecclesiastics on the development of the Church and its doctrines is also obscure and difficult to determine. As they were compelled to claim the sanction of tradition for every innovation they introduced, and did in fact do so, and as every fresh step they took appeared to themselves necessary only as an explanation, it is in many cases quite impossible to distinguish between what they received from tradition and what they added to it of their own. Yet an investigation from the point of view of the historian of literature shows that Tertullian and Hippolytus were to a great extent dependent on Irenæus. What amount of innovation these men independently contributed can therefore still be ascertained. Both are men of the second generation. Tertullian is related to Irenæus pretty much as Calvin to Luther. This parallel holds good in more than one respect. First, Tertullian drew up a series of plain dogmatic formulæ which are not found in Irenæus and which proved of the greatest importance in succeeding times. Secondly, he did not attain the power, vividness, and unity of religious intuition which distinguish Irenæus. The truth rather is that, just because of his forms, he partly destroyed the unity of the matter and partly led it into a false path of development. Thirdly, he everywhere endeavoured to give a conception of Christianity which represented it as the divine law, whereas in Irenæus this idea is overshadowed by the conception of the Gospel as real redemption. The main problem therefore resolves itself into the question as to the position of Irenæus in the history of the Church. To what extent were his expositions new, to what extent were the standards he formulated already employed in the Churches, and in which of them? We cannot form to ourselves a sufficiently vivid picture of the interchange of Christian writings in the Church after the last quarter of the second century.[17] Every important work speedily found its way into the churches of the chief cities in the Empire. The diffusion was not merely from East to West, though this was the general rule. At the beginning of the fourth century there was in Cæsarea a Greek translation of Tertullian's Apology and a collection of Cyprian's epistles.[18] The influence of the Roman Church extended over the greater part of Christendom. Up till about the year 260 the Churches in East and West had still in some degree a common history. 3. The developments in the history of dogma within the period extending from about 150 to about 300 were by no means brought about in the different communities at the same time and in a completely analogous fashion. This fact is in great measure concealed from us, because our authorities are almost completely derived from those leading Churches that were connected with each other by constant intercourse. Yet the difference can still be clearly proved by the ratio of development in Rome, Lyons, and Carthage on the one hand, and in Alexandria on the other. Besides, we have several valuable accounts showing that in more remote provinces and communities the development was slower, and a primitive and freer condition of things much longer preserved.[19] 4. From the time that the clergy acquired complete sway over the Churches, that is, from the beginning of the second third of the third century, the development of the history of dogma practically took place within the ranks of that class, and was carried on by its learned men. Every mystery they set up therefore became doubly mysterious to the laity, for these did not even understand the terms, and hence it formed another new fetter. Footnotes: [Footnote 1: Aubé (Histoire des Persécutions de l'Eglise, Vol. II. 1878, pp. 1-68) has given a survey of the genesis of ecclesiastical dogma. The disquisitions of Renan in the last volumes of his great historical work are excellent, though not seldom exaggerated in particular points. See especially the concluding observations in Vol. VII. cc. 28-34. Since the appearance of Ritschl's monograph on the genesis of the old Catholic Church, a treatise which, however, forms too narrow a conception of the problem, German science can point to no work of equal rank with the French. Cf. Sohm's Kirchenrecht, Vol. I. which, however, in a very one-sided manner, makes the adoption of the legal and constitutional arrangements responsible for all the evil in the Church.] [Footnote 2: Sohm (p. 160) declares: "The foundation of Catholicism is the divine Church law to which it lays claim." In many other passages he even seems to express the opinion that the Church law of itself, even when not represented as divine, is the hereditary enemy of the true Church and at the same time denotes the essence of Catholicism. See, e.g., p. 2: "The whole essence of Catholicism consists in its declaring legal institutions to be necessary to the Church." Page 700: "The essence of Church law is incompatible with the essence of the Church." This thesis really characterises Catholicism well and contains a great truth, if expressed in more careful terms, somewhat as follows: "The assertion that there is a divine Church law (emanating from Christ, or, in other words, from the Apostles), which is necessary to the spiritual character of the Church and which in fact is a token of this very attribute, is incompatible with the essence of the Gospel and is the mark of a pseudo-Catholicism." But the thesis contains too narrow a view of the case. For the divine Church law is only one feature of the essence of the Catholic Church, though a very important element, which Sohm, as a jurist, was peculiarly capable of recognising. The whole essence of Catholicism, however, consists in the deification of tradition generally. The declaration that the empirical institutions of the Church, created for and necessary to this purpose, are apostolic, a declaration which amalgamates them with the essence and content of the Gospel and places them beyond all criticism, is the peculiarly "Catholic" feature. Now, as a great part of these institutions cannot be inwardly appropriated and cannot really amalgamate with faith and piety, it is self-evident that such portions become continued: legal ordinances, to which obedience must be rendered. For no other relation to these ordinances can be conceived. Hence the legal regulations and the corresponding slavish devotion come to have such immense scope in Catholicism, and well-nigh express its essence. But behind this is found the more general conviction that the empirical Church, as it actually exists, is the authentic, pure, and infallible creation: its doctrine, its regulations, its religious ceremonial are apostolic. Whoever doubts that renounces Christ. Now, if, as in the case of the Reformers, this conception be recognised as erroneous and unevangelical, the result must certainly be a strong detestation of "the divine Church law." Indeed, the inclination to sweep away all Church law is quite intelligible, for when you give the devil your little finger he takes the whole hand. But, on the other hand, it cannot be imagined how communities are to exist on earth, propagate themselves, and train men without regulations; and how regulations are to exist without resulting in the formation of a code of laws. In truth, such regulations have at no time been wanting in Christian communities, and have always possessed the character of a legal code. Sohm's distinction, that in the oldest period there was no "law," but only a "regulation," is artificial, though possessed of a certain degree of truth; for the regulation has one aspect in a circle of like-minded enthusiasts, and a different one in a community where all stages of moral and religious culture are represented, and which has therefore to train its members. Or should it not do so? And, on the other hand, had the oldest Churches not the Old Testament and the [Greek: diataxeis] of the Apostles? Were these no code of laws? Sohm's proposition: "The essence of Church law is incompatible with the essence of the Church," does not rise to evangelical clearness and freedom, but has been formed under the shadow and ban of Catholicism. I am inclined to call it an Anabaptist thesis. The Anabaptists were also in the shadow and ban of Catholicism; hence their only course was either the attempt to wreck the Church and Church history and found a new empire, or a return to Catholicism. Hermann Bockelson or the Pope! But the Gospel is above the question of Jew or Greek, and therefore also above the question of a legal code. It is reconcilable with everything that is not sin, even with the philosophy of the Greeks. Why should it not be also compatible with the monarchical bishop, with the legal code of the Romans, and even with the Pope, provided these are not made part of the Gospel.] [Footnote 3: In the formation of the Marcionite Church we have, on the other hand, the attempt to create a rigid oecumenical community, held together solely by religion. The Marcionite Church therefore had a founder, the Catholic has none.] [Footnote 4: The historian who wishes to determine the advance made by Græco-Roman humanity in the third and fourth centuries, under the influence of Catholicism and its theology, must above all keep in view the fact that gross polytheism and immoral mythology were swept away, spiritual monotheism brought near to all, and the ideal of a divine life and the hope of an eternal one made certain. Philosophy also aimed at that, but it was not able to establish a community of men on these foundations.] [Footnote 5: Luther, as is well known, had a very profound impression of the distinction between Biblical Christianity and the theology of the Fathers, who followed the theories of Origen. See, for example, Werke, Vol. LXII. p. 49, quoting Proles: "When the word of God comes to the Fathers, me thinks it is as if milk were filtered through a coal sack, where the milk must become black and spoiled."] [Footnote 6: They were not the first to determine this circle of interests. So far as we can demonstrate traces of independent religious knowledge among the so-called Apostolic Fathers of the post-apostolic age, they are in thorough harmony with the theories of the Apologists, which are merely expressed with precision and divested of Old Testament language.] [Footnote 7: It was only after the apostolic tradition, fixed in the form of a comprehensive collection, seemed to guarantee the admissibility of every form of Christianity that reverenced that collection, that the hellenising of Christianity within the Church began in serious fashion. The fixing of tradition had had a twofold result. On the one hand, it opened the way more than ever before for a free and unhesitating introduction of foreign ideas into Christianity, and, on the other hand, so far as it really also included the documents and convictions of primitive Christianity, it preserved this religion to the future and led to a return to it, either from scientific or religious considerations. That we know anything at all of original Christianity is entirely due to the fixing of the tradition, as found at the basis of Catholicism. On the supposition--which is indeed an academic consideration--that this fixing had not taken place because of the non-appearance of the Gnosticism which occasioned it, and on the further supposition that the original enthusiasm had continued, we would in all probability know next to nothing of original Christianity today. How much we would have known may be seen from the Shepherd of Hermas.] [Footnote 8: So far as the Catholic Church is concerned, the idea of dogmas, as individual theorems characteristic of Christianity, and capable of being scholastically proved, originated with the Apologists. Even as early as Justin we find tendencies to amalgamate historical material and natural theology.] [Footnote 9: It is almost completely wanting in Tertullian. That is explained by the fact that this remarkable man was in his inmost soul an old-fashioned Christian, to whom the Gospel was _conscientia religionis, disciplina vitæ_ and _spes fidei_, and who found no sort of edification in Neoplatonic notions, but rather dwelt on the ideas "command," "performance," "error," "forgiveness." In Irenæus also, moreover, the ancient idea of salvation, supplemented by elements derived from the Pauline theology, is united with the primitive Christian eschatology.] [Footnote 10: On the significance of Clement and Origen see Overbeck, "Über die Anfänge der patristischen Litteratur" in d. Hist. Ztschr, N. F., Vol, XII. p. 417 ff.] [Footnote 11: Information on this point may be got not only from the writings of Origen (see especially his work against Celsus), but also and above all from his history. The controversy between Dionysius of Alexandria and the Chiliasts is also instructive on the matter.] [Footnote 12: The three or (reckoning Methodius) four steps of the development of church doctrine (Apologists, Old Catholic Fathers, Alexandrians) correspond to the progressive religious and philosophical development of heathendom at that period: philosophic moralism, ideas of salvation (theology and practice of mysteries), Neoplatonic philosophy, and complete syncretism.] [Footnote 13: "Virtus omnis ex his causam accipit, a quibus provocatur" (Tertull., de bapt. 2.)] [Footnote 14: The plan of placing the apologetic theology before everything else would have much to recommend it, but I adhere to the arrangement here chosen, because the advantage of being able to represent and survey the outer ecclesiastical development and the inner theological one, each being viewed as a unity, seems to me to be very great. We must then of course understand the two developments as proceeding on parallel lines. But the placing of the former parallel before the latter in my presentation is justified by the fact that what was gained in the former passed over much more directly and swiftly into the general life of the Church, than what was reached in the latter. Decades elapsed, for instance, before the apologetic theology came to be generally known and accepted in the Church, as is shown by the long continued conflict against Monarchianism.] [Footnote 15: The origin of Catholicism can only be very imperfectly described within the framework of the history of dogma, for the political situation of the Christian communities in the Roman Empire had quite as important an influence on the development of the Catholic Church as its internal conflicts. But inasmuch as that situation and these struggles are ultimately connected in the closest way, the history of dogma cannot even furnish a complete picture of this development within definite limits.] [Footnote 16: See Tertullian, de pudic. 10: "Sed cederem tibi, si scriptura Pastoris, quæ sola moechos amat, divino instrumento meruisset incidi, si non ab omni concilio ecclesiarum etiam vestrarum inter aprocrypha et falsa iudicaretur;" de ieiun. 13: "Aguntur præsterea per Græcias illa certis in locis concilia ex universis ecclesiis, per quæ et altiora quæque in commune tractantur, et ipsa repræsentatio totius nominis Christiani magna veneratione celebratur." We must also take into account here the intercourse by letter, in which connection I may specially remind the reader of the correspondence between Dionysius, Bishop of Corinth, Euseb., H. E. IV. 23, and journeys such as those of Polycarp and Abercius to Rome. Cf. generally Zahn, Weltverkehr und Kirche währeud der drei ersten Jahrhunderte, 1877.] [Footnote 17: See my studies respecting the tradition of the Greek Apologists of the second century in the early Church in the Texte und Unters. z. Gesch. der alt christl. Litteratur, Vol. I. Part I. 2.] [Footnote 18: See Euseb., H. E. II. 2; VI. 43.] [Footnote 19: See the accounts of Christianity in Edessa and the far East generally. The Acta Archelai and the Homilies of Aphraates should also be specially examined. Cf. further Euseb., H. E. VI. 12, and finally the remains of the Latin-Christian literature of the third century--apart from Tertullian, Cyprian and Novatian--as found partly under the name of Cyprian, partly under other titles. Commodian, Arnobius, and Lactantius are also instructive here. This literature has been but little utilised with respect to the history of dogma and of the Church.] I. FIXING AND GRADUAL SECULARISING OF CHRISTIANITY AS A CHURCH CHAPTER II THE SETTING UP OF THE APOSTOLIC STANDARDS FOR ECCLESIASTICAL CHRISTIANITY. THE CATHOLIC CHURCH.[20] We may take as preface to this chapter three celebrated passages from Tertullian's "de præscriptione hæreticorum." In chap. 21 we find: "It is plain that all teaching that agrees with those apostolic Churches which are the wombs and origins of the faith must be set down as truth, it being certain that such doctrine contains that which the Church received from the Apostles, the Apostles from Christ, and Christ from God." In chap. 36 we read: "Let us see what it (the Roman Church) has learned, what it has taught, and what fellowship it has likewise had with the African Churches. It acknowledges one God the Lord, the creator of the universe, and Jesus Christ, the Son of God the creator, born of the Virgin Mary, as well as the resurrection of the flesh. It unites the Law and the Prophets with the writings of the Evangelists and Apostles. From these it draws its faith, and by their authority it seals this faith with water, clothes it with the Holy Spirit, feeds it with the eucharist, and encourages martyrdom. Hence it receives no one who rejects this institution." In chap. 32 the following challenge is addressed to the heretics: "Let them unfold a series of their bishops proceeding by succession from the beginning in such a way that this first bishop of theirs had as his authority and predecessor some one of the Apostles or one of the apostolic men, who, however, associated with the Apostles."[21] From the consideration of these three passages it directly follows that three standards are to be kept in view, viz., the apostolic doctrine, the apostolic canon of Scripture, and the guarantee of apostolic authority, afforded by the organisation of the Church, that is, by the episcopate, and traced back to apostolic institution. It will be seen that the Church always adopted these three standards together, that is simultaneously.[22] As a matter of fact they originated in Rome and gradually made their way in the other Churches. That Asia Minor had a share in this is probable, though the question is involved in obscurity. The three Catholic standards had their preparatory stages, (1) in short kerygmatic creeds; (2) in the authority of the Lord and the formless apostolic tradition as well as in the writings read in the Churches; (3) in the veneration paid to apostles, prophets, and teachers, or the "elders" and leaders of the individual communities. A. _The Transformation of the Baptismal Confession into the Apostolic Rule of Faith._ It has been explained (vol. I. p. 157) that the idea of the complete identity of what the Churches possessed as Christian communities with the doctrine or regulations of the twelve Apostles can already be shown in the earliest Gentile-Christian literature. In the widest sense the expression, [Greek: kanôn tês paradoseôs] (canon of tradition), originally included all that was traced back to Christ himself through the medium of the Apostles and was of value for the faith and life of the Church, together with everything that was or seemed her inalienable possession, as, for instance, the Christian interpretation of the Old Testament. In the narrower sense that canon consisted of the history and words of Jesus. In so far as they formed the content of faith they were the faith itself, that is, the Christian truth; in so far as this faith was to determine the essence of everything Christian, it might be termed [Greek: kanôn tês pisteôs, kanôn tês alêtheias] (canon of the faith, canon of the truth).[23] But the very fact that the extent of what was regarded as tradition of the Apostles was quite undetermined ensured the possibility of the highest degree of freedom; it was also still allowable to give expression to Christian inspiration and to the intuition of enthusiasm without any regard to tradition. We now know that before the violent conflict with Gnosticism short formulated summaries of the faith had already grown out of the missionary practice of the Church (catechising). The shortest formula was that which defined the Christian faith as belief in the Father, Son, and Spirit.[24] It appears to have been universally current in Christendom about the year 150. In the solemn transactions of the Church, therefore especially in baptism, in the great prayer of the Lord's Supper, as well as in the exorcism of demons,[25] fixed formulæ were used. They embraced also such articles as contained the most important facts in the history of Jesus.[26] We know definitely that not later than about the middle of the second century (about 140 A.D.) the Roman Church possessed a fixed creed, which every candidate for baptism had to profess;[27] and something similar must also have existed in Smyrna and other Churches of Asia Minor about the year 150, in some cases, even rather earlier. We may suppose that formulæ of similar plan and extent were also found in other provincial Churches about this time.[28] Still it is neither probable that all the then existing communities possessed such creeds, nor that those who used them had formulated them in such a rigid way as the Roman Church had done. The proclamation of the history of Christ predicted in the Old Testament, the [Greek: kerygma tês alêtheias], also accompanied the short baptismal formula without being expressed in set terms.[29] Words of Jesus and, in general, directions for the Christian life were not, as a rule, admitted into the short formulated creed. In the recently discovered "Teaching of the Apostles" ([Greek: Didachê tôn apostolôn]) we have no doubt a notable attempt to fix the rules of Christian life as traced back to Jesus through the medium of the Apostles, and to elevate them into the foundation of the confederation of Christian Churches; but this undertaking, which could not but have led the development of Christianity into other paths, did not succeed. That the formulated creeds did not express the principles of conduct, but the facts on which Christians based their faith, was an unavoidable necessity. Besides, the universal agreement of all earnest and thoughtful minds on the question of Christian morals was practically assured.[30] Objection was not taken to the principles of morality--at least this was not a primary consideration--for there were many Greeks to whom they did not seem foolishness, but to the adoration of Christ as he was represented in tradition and to the Church's worship of a God, who, as creator of the world and as a speaking and visible being, appeared to the Greeks, with their ideas of a purely spiritual deity, to be interwoven with the world, and who, as the God worshipped by the Jews also, seemed clearly distinct from the Supreme Being. This gave rise to the mockery of the heathen, the theological art of the Gnostics, and the radical reconstruction of tradition as attempted by Marcion. With the freedom that still prevailed Christianity was in danger of being resolved into a motley mass of philosophic speculations or of being completely detached from its original conditions. "It was admitted on all sides that Christianity had its starting-point in certain facts and sayings; but if any and every interpretation of those facts and sayings was possible, if any system of philosophy might be taught into which the words that expressed them might be woven, it is clear that there could be but little cohesion between the members of the Christian communities. The problem arose and pressed for an answer: What should be the basis of Christian union? But the problem was for a time insoluble. For there was no standard and no court of appeal." From the very beginning, when the differences in the various Churches began to threaten their unity, appeal was probably made to the Apostles' doctrine, the words of the Lord, tradition, "sound doctrine", definite facts, such as the reality of the human nature (flesh) of Christ, and the reality of his death and resurrection.[31] In instruction, in exhortations, and above all in opposing erroneous doctrines and moral aberrations, this precept was inculcated from the beginning: [Greek: apolipômen tas kenas kai mataias phrontidas, kai elthômen epi ton eukleê kai semnon tês paradoseôs hêmôn kanona] ("Let us leave off vain and foolish thoughts and betake ourselves to the glorious and august canon of our tradition"). But the very question was: What is sound doctrine? What is the content of tradition? Was the flesh of Christ a reality? etc. There is no doubt that Justin, in opposition to those whom he viewed as pseudo-Christians, insisted on the absolute necessity of acknowledging certain definite traditional facts and made this recognition the standard of orthodoxy. To all appearance it was he who began the great literary struggle for the expulsion of heterodoxy (see his [Greek: syntagma kata pasôn tôn gegenêmenôn haireseôn]); but, judging from those writings of his that have been preserved to us, it seems very unlikely that he was already successful in finding a fixed standard for determining orthodox Christianity.[32] The permanence of the communities, however, depended on the discovery of such a standard. They were no longer held together by the _conscientia religionis_, the _unitas disciplinæ_, and the _foedus spei_. The Gnostics were not solely to blame for that. They rather show us merely the excess of a continuous transformation which no community could escape. The gnosis which subjected religion to a critical examination awoke in proportion as religious life from generation to generation lost its warmth and spontaneity. There was a time when the majority of Christians knew themselves to be such, (1) because they had the "Spirit" and found in that an indestructible guarantee of their Christian position, (2) because they observed all the commandments of Jesus ([Greek: entolai Iêsou]). But when these guarantees died away, and when at the same time the most diverse doctrines that were threatening to break up the Church were preached in the name of Christianity, the fixing of tradition necessarily became the supreme task. Here, as in every other case, the tradition was not fixed till after it had been to some extent departed from. It was just the Gnostics themselves who took the lead in a fixing process, a plain proof that the setting up of dogmatic formulæ has always been the support of new formations. But the example set by the Gnostics was the very thing that rendered the problem difficult. Where was a beginning to be made? "There is a kind of unconscious logic in the minds of masses of men when great questions are abroad, which some one thinker throws into suitable form."[33] There could be no doubt that the needful thing was to fix what was "apostolic," for the one certain thing was that Christianity was based on a divine revelation which had been transmitted through the medium of the Apostles to the Churches of the whole earth. It certainly was not a single individual who hit on the expedient of affirming the fixed forms employed by the Churches in their solemn transactions to be apostolic in the strict sense. It must have come about by a natural process. But the confession of the Father, Son, and Spirit and the _kerygma_ of Jesus Christ had the most prominent place among these forms. The special emphasising of these articles, in opposition to the Gnostic and Marcionite undertakings, may also be viewed as the result of the "common sense" of all those who clung to the belief that the Father of Jesus Christ was the creator of the world, and that the Son of God really appeared in the flesh. But that was not everywhere sufficient, for, even admitting that about the period between 150 and 180 A.D. all the Churches had a fixed creed which they regarded as apostolic in the strict sense--and this cannot be proved,--the most dangerous of all Gnostic schools, viz., those of Valentinus, could recognise this creed, since they already possessed the art of explaining a given text in whatever way they chose. What was needed was an apostolic creed _definitely interpreted_; for it was only by the aid of a definite interpretation that the creed could be used to repel the Gnostic speculations and the Marcionite conception of Christianity. In this state of matters the Church of Rome, the proceedings of which are known to us through Irenæus and Tertullian, took, with regard to the fixed Roman baptismal confession ascribed to the Apostles, the following step: The Antignostic interpretation required by the necessities of the times was proclaimed as its self-evident content; the confession, thus explained, was designated as the "Catholic faith" ("fides catholica"), that is the rule of truth for the faith; and its acceptance was made the test of adherence to the Roman Church as well as to the general confederation of Christendom. Irenæus was not the author of this proceeding. How far Rome acted with the coöperation or under the influence of the Church of Asia Minor is a matter that is still obscure,[34] and will probably never be determined with certainty. What the Roman community accomplished practically was theoretically established by Irenæus[35] and Tertullian. The former proclaimed the baptismal confession, definitely interpreted and expressed in an Antignostic form, to be the apostolic rule of truth (regula veritatis), and tried to prove it so. He based his demonstration on the theory that this series of doctrines embodied the faith of the churches founded by the Apostles, and that these communities had always preserved the apostolic teaching unchanged (see under C). Viewed historically, this thesis, which preserved Christianity from complete dissolution, is based on two unproved assumptions and on a confusion of ideas. It is not demonstrated that any creed emanated from the Apostles, nor that the Churches they founded always preserved their teaching in its original form; the creed itself, moreover, is confused with its interpretation. Finally, the existence of a _fides catholica_, in the strict sense of the word, cannot be justly inferred from the essential agreement found in the doctrine of a series of communities.[36] But, on the other hand, the course taken by Irenæus was the only one capable of saving what yet remained of primitive Christianity, and that is its historical justification. A _fides apostolica_ had to be set up and declared identical with the already existing _fides catholica_. It had to be made the standard for judging all particular doctrinal opinions, that it might be determined whether they were admissible or not. The persuasive power with which Irenæus set up the principle of the apostolic "rule of truth," or of "tradition" or simply of "faith," was undoubtedly, as far as he himself was concerned, based on the facts that he had already a rigidly formulated creed before him and that he had no doubt as to its interpretation.[37] The rule of truth (also [Greek: hê hypo tês ekklêsias kêryssomenê alêtheia] "the truth proclaimed by the Church;" and [Greek: to tês alêtheias sômation], "the body of the truth") is the old baptismal confession well known to the communities for which he immediately writes. (See I. 9. 4; [Greek: houtô de kai ho ton kanona tês alêtheias aklinê en heautô katechôn hon dia tou baptismatos eilêphe], "in like manner he also who retains immovably in his heart the rule of truth which he received through baptism"); because it is this, it is apostolic, firm and immovable.[38] By the fixing of the rule of truth, the formulation of which in the case of Irenæus (I. 10. 1, 2) naturally follows the arrangement of the (Roman) baptismal confession, the most important Gnostic theses were at once set aside and their antitheses established as apostolic. In his apostolic rule of truth Irenæus himself already gave prominence to the following doctrines:[39] the unity of God, the identity of the supreme God with the Creator; the identity of the supreme God with the God of the Old Testament; the unity of Jesus Christ as the Son of the God who created the world; the essential divinity of Christ; the incarnation of the Son of God; the prediction of the entire history of Jesus through the Holy Spirit in the Old Testament; the reality of that history; the bodily reception ([Greek: ensarkos analêpsis]) of Christ into heaven; the visible return of Christ; the resurrection of all flesh ([Greek: anastasis pasês sarkos, pasês anthropôtêtos]), the universal judgment. These dogmas, the antitheses of the Gnostic regulæ,[40] were consequently, as apostolic and therefore also as Catholic, removed beyond all discussion. Tertullian followed Irenæus in every particular. He also interpreted the (Romish) baptismal confession, represented it, thus explained, as the _regula fidei_,[41] and transferred to the latter the attributes of the confession, viz., its apostolic origin (or origin from Christ), as well as its fixedness and completeness.[42] Like Irenæus, though still more stringently, he also endeavoured to prove that the formula had descended from Christ, that is, from the Apostles, and was incorrupt. He based his demonstration on the alleged incontestable facts that it contained the faith of those Churches founded by the Apostles, that in these communities a corruption of doctrine was inconceivable, because in them, as could be proved, the Apostles had always had successors, and that the other Churches were in communion with them (see under C). In a more definite way than Irenæus, Tertullian conceives the rule of faith as a rule for the faith,[43] as the law given to faith,[44] also as a "regula doctrinæ" or "doctrina regulæ" (here the creed itself is quite plainly the regula), and even simply as "doctrina" or "institutio."[45] As to the content of the _regula_, it was set forth by Tertullian in three passages.[46] It is essentially the same as in Irenæus. But Tertullian already gives prominence within the _regula_ to the creation of the universe out of nothing,[47] the creative instrumentality of the Logos,[48] his origin before all creatures,[49] a definite theory of the Incarnation,[50] the preaching by Christ of a _nova lex_ and a _nova promissio regni coelorum_,[51] and finally also the Trinitarian economy of God.[52] Materially, therefore, the advance beyond Irenæus is already very significant. Tertullian's _regula_ is in point of fact a _doctrina_. In attempting to bind the communities to this he represents them as schools.[53] The apostolic "lex et doctrina" is to be regarded as inviolable by every Christian. Assent to it decides the Christian character of the individual. Thus the Christian _disposition and life_ come to be a matter which is separate from this and subject to particular conditions. In this way the essence of religion was split up--the most fatal turning-point in the history of Christianity. But we are not of course to suppose that at the beginning of the third century the actual bond of union between all the Churches was a fixed confession developed into a doctrine, that is, definitely interpreted. This much was gained, as is clear from the treatise _de præscriptione_ and from other evidence, that in the communities with which Tertullian was acquainted, mutual recognition and brotherly intercourse were made to depend on assent to formulæ which virtually coincided with the Roman baptismal confession. Whoever assented to such a formula was regarded as a Christian brother, and was entitled to the salutation of peace, the name of brother, and hospitality.[54] In so far as Christians confined themselves to a doctrinal formula which they, however, strictly applied, the adoption of this practice betokened an advance. The scattered communities now possessed a "lex" to bind them together, quite as certainly as the philosophic schools possessed a bond of union of a real and practical character[55] in the shape of certain briefly formulated doctrines. In virtue of the common apostolic _lex_ of Christians the Catholic Church became a reality, and was at the same time clearly marked off from the heretic sects. But more than this was gained, in so far as the Antignostic interpretation of the formula, and consequently a "doctrine," was indeed in some measure involved in the _lex_. The extent to which this was the case depended, of course, on the individual community or its leaders. All Gnostics could not be excluded by the wording of the confession; and, on the other hand, every formulated faith leads to a formulated doctrine, as soon as it is set up as a critical canon. What we observe in Irenæus and Tertullian must have everywhere taken place in a greater or less degree; that is to say, the authority of the confessional formula must have been extended to statements not found in the formula itself. We can still prove from the works of Clement of Alexandria that a confession claiming to be an apostolic law of faith,[56] ostensibly comprehending the whole essence of Christianity, was not set up in the different provincial Churches at one and the same time. From this it is clearly manifest that at this period the Alexandrian Church neither possessed a baptismal confession similar to that of Rome,[57] nor understood by "regula fidei" and synonymous expressions a collection of beliefs fixed in some fashion and derived from the apostles.[58] Clement of Alexandria in his Stromateis appeals to the holy (divine) Scriptures, to the teaching of the Lord,[59] and to the standard tradition which he designates by a great variety of names, though he never gives its content, because he regards the whole of Christianity in its present condition as needing to be reconstructed by gnosis, and therefore as coming under the head of tradition.[60] In one respect therefore, as compared with Irenæus and Tertullian, he to some extent represents an earlier standpoint; he stands midway between them and Justin. From this author he is chiefly distinguished by the fact that he employs sacred Christian writings as well as the Old Testament, makes the true Gnostic quite as dependent on the former as on the latter and has lost that naive view of tradition, that is, the complete content of Christianity, which Irenæus and Tertullian still had. As is to be expected, Clement too assigns the ultimate authorship of the tradition to the Apostles; but it is characteristic that he neither does this of such set purpose as Irenæus and Tertullian, nor thinks it necessary to prove that the Church had presented the apostolic tradition intact. But as he did not extract from the tradition a fixed complex of fundamental propositions, so also he failed to recognise the importance of its publicity and catholicity, and rather placed an esoteric alongside of an exoteric tradition. Although, like Irenæus and Tertullian, his attitude is throughout determined by opposition to the Gnostics and Marcion, he supposes it possible to refute them by giving to the Holy Scriptures a scientific exposition which must not oppose the [Greek: kanôn tês ekklêsias], that is, the Christian common sense, but receives from it only certain guiding rules. But this attitude of Clement would be simply inconceivable if the Alexandrian Church of his time had already employed the fixed standard applied in those of Rome, Carthage and Lyons.[61] Such a standard did not exist; but Clement made no distinction in the yet unsystematised tradition, even between faith and discipline, because as a theologian he was not able to identify himself with any single article of it without hesitation, and because he ascribed to the true Gnostic the ability to fix and guarantee the truth of Christian doctrine. Origen, although he also attempted to refute the heretics chiefly by a scientific exegesis of the Holy Scriptures, exhibits an attitude which is already more akin to that of Irenæus and Tertullian than to that of Clement. In the preface to his great work, "De principiis," he prefixed the Church doctrine as a detailed apostolic rule of faith, and in other instances also he appealed to the apostolic teaching.[62] It may be assumed that in the time of Caracalla and Heliogabalus the Alexandrian Christians had also begun to adopt the principles acted upon in Rome and other communities.[63] The Syrian Churches, or at least a part of them, followed still later.[64] There can be no doubt that, from the last decades of the third century onward, one and the same confession, identical not in its wording, but in its main features, prevailed in the great confederation of Churches extending from Spain to the Euphrates and from Egypt to beyond the Alps.[65] It was the basis of the confederation, and therefore also a passport, mark of recognition, etc., for the orthodox Christians. The interpretation of this confession was fixed in certain ground features, that is, in an Antignostic sense. But a definite theological interpretation was also more and more enforced. By the end of the third century there can no longer have been any considerable number of outlying communities where the doctrines of the pre-existence of Christ and the identity of this pre-existent One with the divine Logos were not recognised as the orthodox belief.[66] They may have first become an "apostolic confession of faith" through the Nicene Creed. But even this creed was not adopted all at once. B. _The designation of selected writings read in the churches as New Testament Scriptures or, in other words, as a collection of apostolic writings_.[67] Every word and every writing which testified of the [Greek: kurios] (Lord) was originally regarded as emanating from him, that is, from his spirit: [Greek: Hothen hê kuriotês laleitai ekei Kurios estin]. (Didache IV. 1; see also 1 Cor. XII. 3). Hence the contents were holy.[68] In this sense the New Testament is a "residuary product," just as the idea of its inspiration is a remnant of a much broader view. But on the other hand, the New Testament is a new creation of the Church,[69] inasmuch as it takes its place alongside of the Old--which through it has become a complicated book for Christendom,--as a Catholic and apostolic collection of Scriptures containing and attesting the truth. Marcion had founded his conception of Christianity on a new canon of Scripture,[70] which seems to have enjoyed the same authority among his followers as was ascribed to the Old Testament in orthodox Christendom. In the Gnostic schools, which likewise rejected the Old Testament altogether or in part, Evangelic and Pauline writings were, by the middle of the second century, treated as sacred texts and made use of to confirm their theological speculations.[71] On the other hand, about the year 150 the main body of Christendom had still no collection of Gospels and Epistles possessing equal authority with the Old Testament, and, apart from Apocalypses, no new writings at all, which as such, that is, as sacred texts, were regarded as inspired and authoritative.[72] Here we leave out of consideration that their content is a testimony of the Spirit. From the works of Justin it is to be inferred that the ultimate authorities were the Old Testament, the words of the Lord, and the communications of Christian prophets.[73] The memoirs of the Apostles ([Greek: apomnêmoneumata ton apostolôn] = [Greek: ta euangelia]) owed their significance solely to the fact that they recorded the words and history of the Lord and bore witness to the fulfilment of Old Testament predictions. There is no mention whatever of apostolic epistles as holy writings of standard authority.[74] But we learn further from Justin that the Gospels as well as the Old Testament were read in public worship (Apol. I. 67) and that our first three Gospels were already in use. We can, moreover, gather from other sources that other Christian writings, early and late, were more or less regularly read in Christian meetings.[75] Such writings naturally possessed a high degree of authority. As the Holy Spirit and the Church are inseparable, everything that edifies the Church originates with the Holy Spirit,[76] which in this, as well as every other respect, is inexhaustibly rich. Here, however, two interests were predominant from the beginning, that of immediate spiritual edification and that of attesting and certifying the Christian _Kerygma_ ([Greek: hê asphaleia tôn logôn]). _The ecclesiastical canon was the result of the latter interest_, not indeed in consequence of a process of collection, for individual communities had already made a far larger compilation,[77] but, in the first instance, through selection, and afterwards, but not till then, through addition. We must not think that the four Gospels now found in the canon had attained full canonical authority by the middle of the second century, for the fact--easily demonstrable--that the texts were still very freely dealt with about this period is in itself a proof of this.[78] Our first three Gospels contain passages and corrections that could hardly have been fixed before about the year 150. Moreover, Tatian's attempt to create a new Gospel from the four shews that the text of these was not yet fixed.[79] We may remark that he was the first in whom we find the Gospel of John[80] alongside of the Synoptists, and these four the only ones recognised. From the assault of the "Alogi" on the Johannine Gospel we learn that about 160 the whole of our four Gospels had not been definitely recognised even in Asia Minor. Finally, we must refer to the Gospel of the Egyptians, the use of which was not confined to circles outside the Church.[81] From the middle of the second century the Encratites stood midway between the larger Christendom and the Marcionite Church as well as the Gnostic schools. We hear of some of these using the Gospels as canonical writings side by side with the Old Testament, though they would have nothing to do with the Epistles of Paul and the Acts of the Apostles.[82] But Tatian, the prominent Apologist, who joined them, gave this sect a more complete canon, an important fact about which was its inclusion of Epistles of Paul. Even this period, however, still supplies us with no testimony as to the existence of a New Testament canon in orthodox Christendom, in fact the rise of the so-called "Montanism" and its extreme antithesis, the "Alogi," in Asia Minor soon after the middle of the second century proves that there was still no New Testament canon there; for, if such an authoritative compilation had existed, these movements could not have arisen. If we gather together all the indications and evidence bearing on the subject, we shall indeed be ready to expect the speedy appearance in the Church of a kind of Gospel canon comprising the four Gospels;[83] but we are prepared neither for this being formally placed on an equality with the Old Testament, nor for its containing apostolic writings, which as yet are only found in Marcion and the Gnostics. The canon emerges quite suddenly in an allusion of Melito of Sardis preserved by Eusebius,[84] the meaning of which is, however, still dubious; in the works of Irenæus and Tertullian; and in the so-called Muratorian Fragment. There is no direct account of its origin and scarcely any indirect; yet it already appears as something to all intents and purposes finished and complete.[85] Moreover, it emerges in the same ecclesiastical district where we were first able to show the existence of the apostolic _regula fidei_. We hear nothing of any authority belonging to the compilers, because we learn nothing at all of such persons.[86] And yet the collection is regarded by Irenæus and Tertullian as completed. A refusal on the part of the heretics to recognise this or that book is already made a severe reproach against them. Their Bibles are tested by the Church compilation as the older one, and the latter itself is already used exactly like the Old Testament. The assumption of the inspiration of the books; the harmonistic interpretation of them; the idea of their absolute sufficiency with regard to every question which can arise and every event which they record; the right of unlimited combination of passages; the assumption that nothing in the Scriptures is without importance; and, finally, the allegorical interpretation: are the immediately observable result of the creation of the canon.[87] The probable conditions which brought about the formation of the New Testament canon in the Church, for in this case we are only dealing with probabilities, and the interests which led to and remained associated with it can only be briefly indicated here.[88] The compilation and formation of a canon of Christian writings by a process of selection[89] was, so to speak, a kind of involuntary undertaking of the Church in her conflict with Marcion and the Gnostics, as is most plainly proved by the warnings of the Fathers not to dispute with the heretics about the Holy Scriptures,[90] although the New Testament was already in existence. That conflict necessitated the formation of a new Bible. The exclusion of particular persons on the strength of some apostolic standards, and by reference to the Old Testament, could not be justified by the Church in her own eyes and those of her opponents, so long as she herself recognised that there were apostolic writings, and so long as these heretics appealed to such. She was compelled to claim exclusive possession of _everything_ that had a right to the name "apostolic," to deny it to the heretics, and to shew that she held it in the highest honour. Hitherto she had "contented" herself with proving her legal title from the Old Testament, and, passing over her actual origin, had dated herself back to the beginning of all things. Marcion and the Gnostics were the first who energetically pointed out that Christianity began with Christ, and that all Christianity was really to be _tested_ by the apostolic preaching, that the assumed identity of Christian common sense with apostolic Christianity did not exist, and (so Marcion said) that the Apostles contradicted themselves. This opposition made it necessary to enter into the questions raised by their opponents. But, in point of content, the problem of proving the contested identity was simply insoluble, because it was endless and subject to question on every particular point. The "unconscious logic," that is the logic of self-preservation, could only prescribe an expedient. The Church had to collect everything apostolic and declare herself to be its only legal possessor. She was obliged, moreover, to amalgamate the apostolic with the canon of the Old Testament in such a way as to fix the exposition from the very first. But what writings were apostolic? From the middle of the second century great numbers of writings named after the Apostles had already been in circulation, and there were often different recensions of one and the same writing.[91] Versions which contained docetic elements and exhortations to the most pronounced asceticism had even made their way into the public worship of the Church. Above all, therefore, it was necessary to determine (1) what writings were really apostolic, (2) what form or recension should be regarded as apostolic. The selection was made by the Church, that is, primarily, by the churches of Rome and Asia Minor, which had still an unbroken history up to the days of Marcus Aurelius and Commodus. In making this choice, the Church limited herself to the writings that were used in public worship, and only admitted what the tradition of the elders justified her in regarding as genuinely apostolic. The principle on which she proceeded was to reject as spurious all writings, bearing the names of Apostles, that contained anything contradictory to Christian common sense, that is, to the rule of faith--hence admission was refused to all books in which the God of the Old Testament, his creation, etc., appeared to be depreciated,--and to exclude all recensions of apostolic writings that seemed to endanger the Old Testament and the monarchy of God. She retained, therefore, only those writings which bore the names of Apostles, or anonymous writings to which she considered herself justified in attaching such names,[92] and whose contents were not at variance with the orthodox creed or attested it. This selection resulted in the awkward fact that besides the four Gospels there was almost nothing but Pauline epistles to dispose of, and therefore no writings or almost none which, as emanating from the twelve Apostles, could immediately confirm the truth of the ecclesiastical _Kerygma_. _This perplexity was removed by the introduction of the Acts of the Apostles_[93] _and in some cases also the Epistles of Peter and John_, though that of Peter was not recognised at Rome at first. As a collection this group is the most interesting in the new compilation. It gives it the stamp of Catholicity, unites the Gospels with the Apostle (Paul), and, by subordinating his Epistles to the "Acta omnium apostolorum," makes them witnesses to the particular tradition that was required and divests them of every thing suspicious and insufficient.[94] The Church, however, found the selection facilitated by the fact that the content of the early Christian writings was for the most part unintelligible to the Christendom of the time, whereas the late and spurious additions were betrayed not only by heretical theologoumena, but also and above all by their profane lucidity. Thus arose a collection of apostolic writings, which in extent may not have been strikingly distinguished from the list of writings that for more than a generation had formed the chief and favourite reading in the communities.[95] The new collection was already exalted to a high place by the use of other writings being prohibited either for purposes of general edification or for theological ends.[96] But the causes and motives which led to its being formed into a canon, that is, being placed on a footing of complete equality with the Old Testament, may be gathered partly from the earlier history, partly from the mode of using the new Bible and partly from the results attending its compilation. First, Words of the Lord and prophetic utterances, including the written records of these, had always possessed standard authority in the Church; there were therefore parts of the collection the absolute authority of which was undoubted from the first.[97] Secondly, what was called "Preaching of the Apostles," "Teaching of the Apostles," etc., was likewise regarded from the earliest times as completely harmonious as well as authoritative. There had, however, been absolutely no motive for fixing this in documents, because Christians supposed they possessed it in a state of purity and reproduced it freely. The moment the Church was called upon to fix this teaching authentically, and this denotes a decisive revolution, she was forced to have recourse to _writings_, whether she would or not. The attributes formerly applied to the testimony of the Apostles, so long as it was not collected and committed to writing, had now to be transferred to the written records they had left. Thirdly, Marcion had already taken the lead in forming Christian writings into a canon in the strict sense of the word. Fourthly, the interpretation was at once fixed by forming the apostolic writings into a canon, and placing them on an equality with the Old Testament, as well as by subordinating troublesome writings to the Acts of the Apostles. Considered by themselves these writings, especially the Pauline Epistles, presented the greatest difficulties. We can see even yet from Irenæus and Tertullian that the duty of accommodating herself to these Epistles was _forced_ upon the Church by Marcion and the heretics, and that, but for this constraint, her method of satisfying herself as to her relationship to them would hardly have taken the shape of incorporating them with the canon.[98] This shows most clearly that the collection of writings must not be traced to the Church's effort to create for herself a powerful controversial weapon. But the difficulties which the compilation presented so long as it was a mere collection vanished as soon as it was viewed as a _sacred_ collection. For now the principle: "as the teaching of the Apostles was one, so also is the tradition" ([Greek: mia hê pantôn gegone tôn apostolôn hôsper didaskalia houtôs de kai hê paradosis]) was to be applied to all contradictory and objectionable details.[99] It was now imperative to explain one writing by another; the Pauline Epistles, for example, were to be interpreted by the Pastoral Epistles and the Acts of the Apostles.[100] Now was required what Tertullian calls the "mixture" of the Old and New Testaments,[101] in consequence of which the full recognition of the knowledge got from the old Bible was regarded as the first law for the interpretation of the new. The formation of the new collection into a canon was therefore an immediate and unavoidable necessity if doubts of all kinds were to be averted. These were abundantly excited by the exegesis of the heretics; they were got rid of by making the writings into a canon. Fifthly, the early Christian enthusiasm more and more decreased in the course of the second century; not only did Apostles, prophets, and teachers die out, but the religious mood of the majority of Christians was changed. A reflective piety took the place of the instinctive religious enthusiasm which made those who felt it believe that they themselves possessed the Spirit.[102] Such a piety requires rules; at the same time, however, it is characterised by the perception that it has not the active and spontaneous character which it ought to have, but has to prove its legitimacy in an indirect and "objective" way. The breach with tradition, the deviation from the original state of things is felt and recognised. Men, however, conceal from themselves their own defects, by placing the representatives of the past on an unattainable height, and forming such an estimate of their qualities as makes it unlawful and impossible for those of the present generation, in the interests of their own comfort, to compare themselves with them. When matters reach this point, great suspicion attaches to those who hold fast their religious independence and wish to apply the old standards. Not only do they seem arrogant and proud, but they also appear disturbers of the necessary new arrangement which has its justification in the fact of its being unavoidable. This development of the matter was, moreover, of the greatest significance for the history of the canon. Its creation very speedily resulted in the opinion that the time of divine revelation had gone past and was exhausted in the Apostles, that is, in the records left by them. We cannot prove with certainty that the canon was formed to confirm this opinion, but we can show that it was very soon used to oppose those Christians who professed to be prophets or appealed to the continuance of prophecy. The influence which the canon exercised in this respect is the most decisive and important. That which Tertullian, as a Montanist, asserts of one of his opponents: "Prophetiam expulit, paracletum fugavit" ("he expelled prophecy, he drove away the Paraclete"), can be far more truly said of the New Testament which the same Tertullian as a Catholic recognised. The New Testament, though not all at once, put an end to a situation where it was possible for any Christian under the inspiration of the Spirit to give authoritative disclosures and instructions. It likewise prevented belief in the fanciful creations with which such men enriched the history of the past, and destroyed their pretensions to read the future. As the creation of the canon, though not in a hard and fast way, fixed the period of the production of sacred facts, so it put down all claims of Christian prophecy to public credence. Through the canon it came to be acknowledged that all post-apostolic Christianity is only of a mediate and particular kind, and can therefore never be itself a standard. The Apostles alone possessed the Spirit of God completely and without measure. They only, therefore, are the media of revelation, and by their word alone, which, as emanating from the Spirit, is of equal authority with the word of Christ, all that is Christian must be tested.[103] The Holy Spirit and the Apostles became correlative conceptions (Tertull., de pudic. 21). The Apostles, however, were more and more overshadowed by the New Testament Scriptures; and this was in fact an advance beyond the earlier state of things, for what was known of the Apostles? Accordingly, _as authors of these writings_, they and the Holy Spirit became correlative conceptions. This led to the assumption that the apostolic writings were inspired, that is, in the full and only intelligible sense attached to the word by the ancients.[104] By this assumption the Apostles, viewed as _prophets_, received a significance quite equal to that of Old Testament writers.[105] But, though Irenæus and Tertullian placed both parties on a level, they preserved a distinction between them by basing the whole authority of the New Testament on its apostolic origin, the concept "apostolic" being much more comprehensive than that of "prophet." These men, being Apostles, that is men chosen by Christ himself and entrusted with the proclamation of the Gospel, have for that reason received the Spirit, and their writings are filled with the Spirit. To the minds of Western Christians the primary feature in the collection is its apostolic authorship.[106] This implies inspiration also, because the Apostles cannot be inferior to the writers of the Old Testament. For that very reason they could, in a much more radical way, rid the new collection of everything that was not apostolic. They even rejected writings which, in their form, plainly claimed the character of inspiration; and this was evidently done because they did not attribute to them the degree of authority which, in their view, only belonged to that which was apostolic.[107] The new canon of Scripture set up by Irenæus and Tertullian primarily professes to be nothing else than a collection of _apostolic_ writings, which, as such, claim absolute authority.[108] It takes its place beside the apostolic rule of faith; and by this faithfully preserved possession, the Church scattered over the world proves herself to be that of the Apostles. But we are very far from being able to show that such a rigidly fixed collection of apostolic writings existed everywhere in the Church about the year 200. It is indeed continually asserted that the Antiochian and Alexandrian Churches had at that date a New Testament which, in extent and authority, essentially coincided with that of the Roman Church; but this opinion is not well founded. As far as the Church of Antioch is immediately concerned, the letter of Bishop Serapion (whose episcopate lasted from about 190 to about 209), given in Eusebius (VI. 12), clearly shows that Cilicia and probably also Antioch itself as yet possessed no such thing as a completed New Testament. It is evident that Serapion already holds the Catholic principle that all words of Apostles possess the same value to the Church as words of the Lord; but a completed collection of apostolic writings was not yet at his disposal.[109] Hence it is very improbable that Theophilus, bishop of Antioch, who died as early as the reign of Commodus, presupposed such a collection. Nor, in point of fact, do the statements in the treatise "ad Autolycum" point to a completed New Testament.[110] Theophilus makes diligent use of the Epistles of Paul and mentions the evangelist John (C. I. 1.) as one of the bearers of the Spirit. But with him the one canonical court of appeal is the Scriptures of the Old Testament, that is, the writings of the Prophets (bearers of the Spirit). These Old Testament Prophets, however, are continued in a further group of "bearers of the Spirit," which we cannot definitely determine, but which at any rate included the authors of the four Gospels and the writer of the Apocalypse. It is remarkable that Theophilus has never mentioned the Apostles. Though he perhaps regards them all, including Paul, as "bearers of the Spirit," yet we have no indication that he looked on their _Epistles_ as canonical. The different way he uses the Old Testament and the Gospels on the one hand and the Pauline Epistles on the other is rather evidence of the contrary. Theophilus was acquainted with the four Gospels (but we have no reference to Mark), the thirteen Epistles of Paul (though he does not mention Thessalonians), most probably also with the Epistle to the Hebrews, as well as 1st Peter and the Revelation of John. It is significant that no single passage of his betrays an acquaintance with the Acts of the Apostles.[111] It might certainly seem venturesome, on the basis of the material found in Theophilus and the original document of the first six books of the Apostolic Constitutions, to conclude that the formation of a New Testament canon was not everywhere determined by the same interest and therefore did not everywhere take a similar course. It might seem hazardous to assume that the Churches of Asia Minor and Rome began by creating a fixed canon of _apostolic_ writings, which was thus necessarily declared to be inspired, whereas other communities applied or did not deny the notion of inspiration to a great number of venerable and ancient writings not rigidly defined, and did not make a selection from a stricter historical point of view, till a later date. But the latter development not only corresponds to the indication found in Justin, but in my opinion may be verified from the copious accounts of Clement of Alexandria.[112] In the entire literature of Greeks and barbarians Clement distinguishes between profane and sacred, i.e., inspired writings. As he is conscious that all knowledge of truth is based on inspiration, so all writings, that is all parts, paragraphs, or sentences of writings which contain moral and religious truth are in his view inspired.[113] This opinion, however, does not exclude a distinction between these writings, but rather requires it. (2) The Old Testament, a fixed collection of books, is regarded by Clement, as a whole and in all its parts, as the divine, that is, inspired book _par excellence_. (3) As Clement in theory distinguishes a new covenant from the old, so also he distinguishes the books of the new covenant from those of the old. (4) These books to which he applies the formula "Gospel" ([Greek: to euangelion]) and "Apostles" ([Greek: hoi apostoloi]) are likewise viewed by him as inspired, but he does not consider them as forming a fixed collection. (5) Unless all appearances are deceptive, it was, strictly speaking, only the four Gospels that he considered and treated as completely on a level with the Old Testament. The formula: [Greek: ho nomos kai hoi prophêtai kai to euangelion] ("the Law and the Prophets and the Gospel") is frequently found, and everything else, even the apostolic writings, is judged by this group.[114] He does not consider even the Pauline Epistles to be a court of appeal of equal value with the Gospels, though he occasionally describes them as [Greek: graphai].[115] A further class of writings stands a stage lower than the Pauline Epistles, viz., the Epistles of Clement and Barnabas, the Shepherd of Hermas, etc. It would be wrong to say that Clement views this group as an appendix to the New Testament, or as in any sense Antilegomena. This would imply that he assumed the existence of a fixed collection whose parts he considered of equal value, an assumption which cannot be proved.[116] (6) As to certain books, such as the "Teaching of the Apostles," the "Kerygma of Peter," etc., it remains quite doubtful what authority Clement attributed to them.[117] He quotes the [Greek: Didachê] as [Greek: graphê]. (7) In determining and estimating the sacred books of the New Testament Clement is manifestly influenced by an ecclesiastical tradition, for he recognises four Gospels and no more because that was the exact number handed down. This tradition had already applied the name "apostolic" to most Christian writings which were to be considered as [Greek: graphai], but it had given the concept "apostolic" a far wider content than Irenæus and Tertullian,[118] although it had not been able to include all the new writings which were regarded as sacred under this idea. (Hermas). At the time Clement wrote, the Alexandrian _Church_ can neither have held the principle that all writings of the Apostles must be read in the Church and form a decisive court of appeal like the Old Testament, nor have believed that nothing but the Apostolic--using this word also in its wider sense--has any claim to authority among Christians. We willingly admit the great degree of freedom and peculiarity characteristic of Clement, and freely acknowledge the serious difficulties inseparable from the attempt to ascertain from his writings what was regarded as possessing standard authority in the _Church_. Nevertheless it may be assumed with certainty that, at the time this author wrote, the content of the New Testament canon, or, to speak more correctly, its reception in the Church and exact attributes had not yet been finally settled in Alexandria. The condition of the Alexandrian Church of the time may perhaps be described as follows: Ecclesiastical custom had attributed an authority to a great number of early Christian writings without strictly defining the nature of this authority or making it equal to that of the Old Testament. Whatever professed to be inspired, or apostolic, or ancient, or edifying was regarded as the work of the Spirit and therefore as the Word of God. The prestige of these writings increased in proportion as Christians became more incapable of producing the like themselves. Not long before Clement wrote, however, a systematic arrangement of writings embodying the early Christian tradition had been made in Alexandria also. But, while in the regions represented by Irenæus and Tertullian the canon must have arisen and been adopted all at once, so to speak, it was a slow process that led to this result in Alexandria. Here also the principle of apostolicity seems to have been of great importance for the collectors and editors, but it was otherwise applied than at Rome. A conservative proceeding was adopted, as they wished to insure as far as possible the permanence of ancient Christian writings regarded as inspired. In other words, they sought, wherever practicable, to proclaim all these writings to be apostolic by giving a wider meaning to the designation and ascribing an imaginary apostolic origin to many of them. This explains their judgment as to the Epistle to the Hebrews, and how Barnabas and Clement were described by them as Apostles.[119] Had this undertaking succeeded in the Church, a much more extensive canon would have resulted than in the West. But it is more than questionable whether it was really the intention of those first Alexandrian collectors to place the great compilation thus produced, as a New Testament, side by side with the Old, or, whether their undertaking was immediately approved in this sense by the Church. In view of the difference of Clement's attitude to the various groups within this collection of [Greek: graphai], we may assert that in the Alexandrian _Church_ of that time Gospels and Apostles were indeed ranked with the Law and the Prophets, but that this position of equality with the Old Testament was not assigned to all the writings that were prized either on the score of inspiration or of apostolic authority. The reason of this was that the great collection of early Christian literature that was inspired and declared to be apostolic could hardly have been used so much in public worship as the Old Testament and the Gospels. Be this as it may, if we understand by the New Testament a fixed collection, equally authoritative throughout, of all the writings that were regarded as genuinely apostolic, that is, those of the original Apostles and Paul, then the Alexandrian Church at the time of Clement did not yet possess such a book; but the process which led to it had begun. She had come much nearer this goal by the time of Origen. At that period the writings included in the New Testament of the West were all regarded in Alexandria as equally authoritative, and also stood in every respect on a level with the Old Testament. The principle of apostolicity was more strictly conceived and more surely applied. Accordingly the extent of "Holy Scripture" was already limited in the days of Origen. Yet we have to thank the Alexandrian Church for giving us the seven Catholic Epistles. But, measured by the canon of the Western Church, which must have had a share in the matter, this sifting process was by no means complete. The inventive minds of scholars designated a group of writings in the Alexandrian canon as "Antilegomena." The historian of dogma can take no great interest in the succeeding development, which first led to the canon being everywhere finally fixed, so far as we can say that this was ever the case. For the still unsettled dispute as to the extent of the canon did not essentially affect its use and authority, and in the following period the continuous efforts to establish a harmonious and strictly fixed canon were solely determined by a regard to tradition. The results are no doubt of great importance to Church history, because they show us the varying influence exerted on Christendom at different periods by the great Churches of the East and West and by their learned men. _Addendum._--The results arising from the formation of a part of early Christian writings into a canon, which was a great and meritorious act of the Church[120], notwithstanding the fact that it was forced on her by a combination of circumstances, may be summed up in a series of antitheses. (1) The New Testament, or group of "apostolic" writings formed by selection, preserved from destruction one part, and undoubtedly the most valuable one, of primitive Church literature; but it caused all the rest of these writings, as being intrusive, or spurious, or superfluous, to be more and more neglected, so that they ultimately perished.[121] (2) The New Testament, though not all at once, put an end to the composition of works which claimed an authority binding on Christendom (inspiration); but it first made possible the production of secular Church literature and neutralised the extreme dangers attendant on writings of this kind. By making room for all kinds of writings that did not oppose it, it enabled the Church to utilise all the elements of Greek culture. At the same time, however, it required an ecclesiastical stamp to be placed on all the new Christian productions due to this cause.[122] (3) The New Testament obscured the historical meaning and the historical origin of the writing contained in it, especially the Pauline Epistles, though at the same time it created the conditions for a thorough study of all those documents. Although primarily the new science of theological exegesis in the Church did more than anything else to neutralise the historical value of the New Testament writings, yet, on the other hand, it immediately commenced a critical restoration of their original sense. But, even apart from theological science, the New Testament enabled original Christianity to exercise here and there a quiet and gradual effect on the doctrinal development of the Church, without indeed being able to exert a dominant influence on the natural development of the traditional system. As the standard of interpretation for the Holy Scriptures was the apostolic _regula fidei_, always more and more precisely explained, and as that _regula_, in its Antignostic and philosophico-theological interpretation, was regarded as apostolic, the New Testament was explained in accordance with the conception of Christianity that had become prevalent in the Church. At first therefore the spirit of the New Testament could only assert itself in certain undercurrents and in the recognition of particular truths. But the book did not in the least ward off the danger of a total secularising of Christianity. (4) The New Testament opposed a barrier to the enthusiastic manufacture of "facts." But at the same time its claim to be a collection of _inspired_ writings[123] naturally resulted in principles of interpretation (such as the principle of unanimity, of unlimited combination, of absolute clearness and sufficiency, and of allegorism) which were necessarily followed by the manufacture of new facts on the part of theological experts. (5) The New Testament fixed a time within which divine revelation ceased, and prevented any Christian from putting himself into comparison with the disciples of Jesus. By doing so it directly promoted the lowering of Christian ideals and requirements, and in a certain fashion legitimised this weakening of religious power. At the same time, however, it maintained the knowledge of these ideals and requirements, became a spur to the conscience of believers, and averted the danger of Christianity being corrupted by the excesses of enthusiasm. (6) The fact of the New Testament being placed on a level with the Old proved the most effective means of preserving to the latter its canonical authority, which had been so often assailed in the second century. But at the same time it brought about an examination of the relation between the Old and New Testaments, which, however, also involved an enquiry into the connection between Christianity and pre-christian revelation. The immediate result of this investigation was not only a theological exposition of the Old Testament, but also a theory which ceased to view the two Testaments as of equal authority and _subordinated_ the Old to the New. This result, which can be plainly seen in Irenæus, Tertullian, and Origen, led to exceedingly important consequences.[124] It gave some degree of insight into statements, hitherto completely unintelligible, in certain New Testament writings, and it caused the Church to reflect upon a question that had as yet been raised only by heretics, viz., what are the marks which distinguish Christianity from the Old Testament religion? An historical examination imperceptibly arose; but the old notion of the inspiration of the Old Testament confined it to the narrowest limits, and in fact always continued to forbid it; for, as before, appeal was constantly made to the Old Testament as a Christian book which contained all the truths of religion in a perfect form. Nevertheless the conception of the Old Testament was here and there full of contradictions.[125] (7) The fatal identification of words of the Lord and words of the Apostles (apostolical tradition) had existed before the creation of the New Testament, though this proceeding gave it a new range and content and a new significance. But, with the Epistles of Paul included, the New Testament elevated the highest expression of the consciousness of redemption into a guiding principle, and by admitting Paulinism into the canon it introduced a wholesome ferment into the history of the Church. (8) By creating the New Testament and claiming exclusive possession of it the Church deprived the non-Catholic communions of every apostolic foundation, just as she had divested Judaism of every legal title by taking possession of the Old Testament; but, by raising the New Testament to standard authority, she created the armoury which supplied the succeeding period with the keenest weapons against herself.[126] The place of the Gospel was taken by a book with exceedingly varied contents, which theoretically acquired the same authority as the Gospel. Still, the Catholic Church never became a religion "of the book," because every inconvenient text could be explained away by the allegoric method, and because the book was not made use of as the immediate authority for the guidance of Christians, this latter function being directly discharged by the rule of faith.[127] In practice it continued to be the rule for the New Testament to take a secondary place in apologetic writings and disputes with heretics.[128] On the other hand it was regarded (1) as the directly authoritative document for the direction of the Christian life,[129] and (2) as the final court of appeal in all the conflicts that arose within the sphere of the rule of faith. It was freely applied in the second stage of the Montanist struggle, but still more in the controversies about Christology, that is, in the conflict with the Monarchians. The apostolic writings belong solely to the Church, because she alone has preserved the apostolic doctrine (regula). This was declared to the heretics and therewith all controversy about Scripture, or the sense of Scripture passages, was in principle declined. But within the Church herself the Holy Scripture was regarded as the supreme and completely independent tribunal against which not even an old tradition could be appealed to; and the rule [Greek: politeuesthai kata to euangelion] ("live according to the Gospel") held good in every respect. Moreover, this formula, which is rarely replaced by the other one, viz., [Greek: kata tên kainên diathêkên] ("according to the New Testament"), shows that the words of the Lord, as in the earlier period, continued to be the chief standard of _life and conduct_. C. _The transformation of the episcopal office in the Church into an apostolic office. The history of the remodelling of the conception of the Church._[130] 1. It was not sufficient to prove that the rule of faith was of apostolic origin, i.e., that the Apostles had set up a rule of faith. It had further to be shown that, up to the present, the Church had always maintained it unchanged. This demonstration was all the more necessary because the heretics also claimed an apostolic origin for their _regulæ_, and in different ways tried to adduce proof that they alone possessed a guarantee of inheriting the Apostles' doctrine in all its purity.[131] An historical demonstration was first attempted by the earliest of the old Catholic Fathers. They pointed to communities of whose apostolic origin there could be no doubt, and thought it could not reasonably be denied that those Churches must have preserved apostolic Christianity in a pure and incorrupt form. The proof that the Church had always held fast by apostolic Christianity depended on the agreement in doctrine between the other communities and these.[132] But Irenæus as well as Tertullian felt that a special demonstration was needed to show that the Churches founded by the Apostles had really at all times faithfully preserved their genuine teaching. General considerations, as, for instance, the notion that Christianity would otherwise have temporarily perished, or "that one event among many is as good as none; but when one and the same feature is found among many, it is not an aberration but a tradition" ("Nullus inter multos eventus unus est ... quod apud multos unum invenitur, non est erratum sed traditum") and similar ones which Tertullian does not fail to mention, were not sufficient. But the dogmatic conception that the _ecclesiæ_ (or _ecclesia_) are the abode of the Holy Spirit,[133] was incapable of making any impression on the heretics, as the correct application of this theory was the very point in question. To make their proof more precise Tertullian and Irenæus therefore asserted that the Churches guaranteed the incorruptness of the apostolic inheritance, inasmuch as they could point to a chain of "elders," or, in other words, an "ordo episcoporum per successionem ab initio decurrens," which was a pledge that nothing false had been mixed up with it.[134] This thesis has quite as many aspects as the conception of the "Elders," e.g., disciples of the Apostles, disciples of the disciples of the Apostles, bishops. It partly preserves a historic and partly assumes a dogmatic character. The former aspect appears in the appeal made to the foundation of Churches by Apostles, and in the argument that each series of successors were faithful disciples of those before them and therefore ultimately of the Apostles themselves. But no historical consideration, no appeal to the "Elders" was capable of affording the assurance sought for. Hence even in Irenæus the historical view of the case had clearly changed into a dogmatic one. This, however, by no means resulted merely from the controversy with the heretics, but was quite as much produced by the altered constitution of the Church and the authoritative position that the bishops had actually attained. The idea was that the Elders, i.e., the bishops, had received "cum episcopatus successione certum veritatis charisma," that is, their office conferred on them the apostolic heritage of truth, which was therefore objectively attached to this dignity as a _charism_. This notion of the transmissibility of the charism of truth became associated with the episcopal office after it had become a monarchical one, exercising authority over the Church in all its relations;[135] and after the bishops had proved themselves the strongest supports of the communities against the attacks of the secular power and of heresy.[136] In Irenæus and Tertullian, however, we only find the first traces of this new theory. The old notion, which regarded the _Churches_ as possessing the heritage of the Apostles in so far as they possess the Holy Spirit, continued to exercise a powerful influence on these writers, who still united the new dogmatic view with a historical one, at least in controversies with the heretics. Neither Irenæus, nor Tertullian in his earlier writings,[137] asserted that the transmission of the _charisma veritatis_ to the bishops had really invested them with the apostolic office in its full sense. They had indeed, according to Irenæus, received the "locum magisterii apostolorum" ("place of government of the Apostles"), but nothing more. It is only the later writings of Tertullian, dating from the reigns of Caracalla and Heliogabalus, which show that the bishop of Rome, who must have had imitators in this respect, claimed for his office the full authority of the apostolic office. Both Calixtus and his rival Hippolytus described themselves as successors of the Apostles in the full sense of the word, and claimed for themselves in that capacity much more than a mere guaranteeing of the purity of Christianity. Even Tertullian did not question this last mentioned attribute of the bishops.[138] Cyprian found the theory already in existence, but was the first to develop it definitely and to eradicate every remnant of the historical argument in its favour. The conception of the Church was thereby subjected to a further transformation. 2. The transformation of the idea of the Church by Cyprian completed the radical changes that had been gradually taking place from the last half of the second century.[139] In order to understand them it is necessary to go back. It was only with slowness and hesitation that the theories of the Church followed the actual changes in her history. It may be said that the idea of the Church always remained a stage behind the condition reached in practice. That may be seen in the whole course of the history of dogma up to the present day. The essential character of Christendom in its first period was a new holy life and a sure hope, both based on repentance towards God and faith in Jesus Christ and brought about by the Holy Spirit. Christ and the Church, that is, the Holy Spirit and the holy Church, were inseparably connected. The Church, or, in other words, the community of all believers, attains her unity through the Holy Spirit. This unity manifested itself in brotherly love and in the common relation to a common ideal and a common hope.[140] The assembly of all Christians is realised in the Kingdom of God, viz., in heaven; on earth Christians and the Church are dispersed and in a foreign land. Hence, properly speaking, the Church herself is a heavenly community inseparable from the heavenly Christ. Christians believe that they belong to a real super-terrestrial commonwealth, which, from its very nature, cannot be realised on earth. The heavenly goal is not yet separated from the idea of the Church; there is a holy Church on earth in so far as heaven is her destination.[141] Every individual congregation is to be an image of the heavenly Church.[142] Reflections were no doubt made on the contrast between the empirical community and the heavenly Church whose earthly likeness it was to be (Hermas); but these did not affect the theory of the subject. Only the saints of God, whose salvation is certain, belong to her, for the essential thing is not to be called, but to be, a Christian. There was as yet no empirical universal Church possessing an outward legal title that could, so to speak, be detached from the personal Christianity of the individual Christian.[143] All the lofty designations which Paul, the so-called Apostolic Fathers, and Justin gathered from the Old Testament and applied to the Church, relate to the holy community which originates in heaven and returns thither.[144] But, in consequence of the naturalising of Christianity in the world and the repelling of heresy, a formulated creed was made the basis of the Church. This confession was also recognised as a foundation of her unity and guarantee of her truth, and in certain respects as the main one. Christendom protected itself by this conception, though no doubt at a heavy price. To Irenæus and Tertullian the Church rests entirely on the apostolic, traditional faith which legitimises her.[145] But this faith itself appeared as a _law_ and aggregate of doctrines, all of which are of equally fundamental importance, so that their practical aim became uncertain and threatened to vanish ("fides in regula posita est, habet legem et salutem de observatione legis"). The Church herself, however, became a union based on the true doctrine and visible in it; and this confederation was at the same time enabled to realise an actual outward unity by means of the apostolic inheritance, the doctrinal confession, and the apostolic writings. The narrower and more external character assumed by the idea of the Church was concealed by the fact that, since the latter half of the second century, Christians in all parts of the world had really united in opposition to the state and "heresy," and had found compensation for the incipient decline of the original lofty thoughts and practical obligations in the consciousness of forming an ecumenical and international alliance. The designation "Catholic Church" gave expression to the claim of this world-wide union of the same faith to represent the true Church.[146] This expression corresponds to the powerful position which the "great Church" (Celsus), or the "old" Church (Clemens Alex.) had attained by the end of the second century, as compared with the Marcionite Church, the school sects, the Christian associations of all kinds, and the independent Christians. This Church, however, was declared to be apostolic, i.e., founded in its present form by Christ through the Apostles. Through this idea, which was supported by the old enthusiastic notion that the Apostles had already proclaimed the Gospel to all the world, it came to be completely forgotten how Christ and his Apostles had exercised their ministry, and an empirical conception of the Church was created in which the idea of a holy life in the Spirit could no longer be the ruling one. It was taught that Christ received from God a law of faith, which, as a new lawgiver, he imparted to the Apostles, and that they, by transmitting the truth of which they were the depositaries, founded the one Catholic Church (Iren. III. 4. I). The latter, being guardian of the apostolic heritage, has the assurance of possessing the Spirit; whereas all communities other than herself, inasmuch as they have not received that deposit, necessarily lack the Spirit and are therefore separated from Christ and salvation.[147] Hence one must be a member of this Church in order to be a partaker of salvation, because in her alone one can find the creed which must be recognised as the condition of redemption.[148] Consequently, in proportion as the faith became a doctrine of faith, the Catholic Church interposed herself as an empiric power between the individual and salvation. She became a condition of salvation; but the result was that she ceased to be a sure communion of the saved and of saints (see on this point the following chapter). It was quite a logical proceeding when about the year 220 Calixtus, a Roman bishop, started the theory that there _must_ be wheat and tares in the Catholic Church and that the Ark of Noah with its clean and unclean beasts was her type.[149] The departure from the old idea of the Church appears completed in this statement. But the following facts must not be overlooked:--First, the new conception of the Church was not yet a hierarchical one. Secondly, the idea of the union and unity of all believers found here magnificent expression. Thirdly, the development of the communities into one solid Church also represents the creative power of the Christian spirit. Fourthly, through the consolidation effected in the Church by the rule of faith the Christian religion was in some measure preserved from enthusiastic extravagancies and arbitrary misinterpretation. Fifthly, in consequence of the regard for a Church founded on the doctrine of faith the specific significance of redemption by Christ, as distinguished from natural religion and that of the Old Testament, could no longer be lost to believers. Sixthly, the independence of each individual community had a wide scope not only at the end of the second but also in the third century.[150] Consequently, though the revolution which led to the Catholic Church was a result of the situation of the communities in the world in general and of the struggle with the Gnostics and Marcion in particular, and though it was a fatal error to identify the Catholic and apostolic Churches, this change did not take place without an exalting of the Christian spirit and an awakening of its self-consciousness. But there was never a time in history when the conception of the Church, as nothing else than the visible communion of those holding the correct apostolic doctrine, was clearly grasped or exclusively emphasised. In Irenæus and Tertullian we rather find, on the one hand, that the old theory of the Church was still to a great extent preserved and, on the other, that the hierarchical notion was already making its appearance. As to the first point, Irenæus frequently asserts that the Spirit and the Church, that is, the Christian people, are inseparable; that the Spirit in divers ways continually effects whatever she needs; that she is the totality of all true believers, that all the faithful have the rank of priests; that outside the holy Church there is no salvation, etc.; in fact these doctrines form the very essence of his teaching. But, since she was also regarded as the visible institution for objectively preserving and communicating the truth, and since the idea of the Church in contradistinction to heresy was necessarily exhausted in this as far as Irenæus was concerned, the old theories of the matter could not operate correctively, but in the end only served to glorify the earthly Catholic Church.[151] The proposition that truth is only to be found in the Church and that she and the Holy Spirit are inseparable must be understood in Irenæus as already referring to the Catholic Church in contradistinction to every other calling itself Christian.[152] As to the second point, it cannot be denied that, though Irenæus desires to maintain that the only essential part of the idea of the Church is the fact of her being the depository of the truth, he was no longer able to confine himself to this (see above). The episcopal succession and the transmission to the bishops of the _magisterium_ of the Apostles were not indeed of any direct importance to his idea of the Church, but they were of consequence for the preservation of truth and therefore indirectly for the idea of the Church also. To Irenæus, however, that theory was still nothing more than an artificial line; but artificial lines are really supports and must therefore soon attain the value of foundations.[153] Tertullian's conception of the Church was essentially the same as that of Irenæus; but with the former the idea that she is the outward manifestation of the Spirit, and therefore a communion of those who are spiritual, at all times continued to operate more powerfully than with the latter. In the last period of his life Tertullian emphasised this theory so vigorously that the Antignostic idea of the Church being based on the "traditio unius sacramenti" fell into the background. Consequently we find nothing more than traces of the hierarchical conception of the Church in Tertullian. But towards the end of his life he found himself face to face with a _fully developed_ theory of this kind. This he most decidedly rejected, and, in doing so, advanced to such a conception of ecclesiastical orders, and therefore also of the episcopate, as clearly involved him in a contradiction of the other theory--which he also never gave up--viz., that the bishops, as the class which transmits the rule of faith, are an apostolic institution and therefore necessary to the Church[154]. From the disquisitions of Clement of Alexandria we see how vigorous the old conception of the Church, as the heavenly communion of the elect and believing, still continued to be about the year 200. This will not appear strange after what we have already said as to Clement's views about the rule of faith, the New Testament, and the episcopate. It is evident that his philosophy of religion led him to give a new interpretation to the original ideas. Yet the old form of these notions can be more easily made out from his works than from those of Irenæus.[155] Up to the 15th Chapter of the 7th Book of his great work, the Stromateis, and in the Pædagogus, Clement simply speaks of the Church in the sense of the Epistle to the Ephesians and the Shepherd of Hermas. She is a heavenly formation, continued in that which appears on earth as her image. Instead of distinguishing two Churches Clement sees one, the product of God's will aiming at the salvation of man--a Church which is to be on earth as it is in heaven, and of which faith forms the subjective and the Logos the objective bond of union. But, beginning with Strom. VII. 15 (see especially 17), where he is influenced by opposition to the heretics, he suddenly identifies this Church with the single old Catholic one, that is, with the visible "Church" in opposition to the heretic sects. Thus the empirical interpretation of the Church, which makes her the institution in possession of the true doctrine, was also completely adopted by Clement; but as yet he employed it simply in polemics and not in positive teachings. He neither reconciled nor seemingly felt the contradiction in the statement that the Church is to be at one and the same time the assembly of the elect and the empiric universal Church. At any rate he made as yet no unconditional acknowledgment of the Catholic Church, because he was still able to attribute independent value to Gnosis, that is, to independent piety as he understood it.[156] Consequently, as regards the conception of the Church, the mystic Gnosis exercised the same effect as the old religious enthusiasm from which in other respects it differs so much.[157] The hierarchy has still no significance as far as Clement's idea of the Church is concerned.[158] At first Origen entirely agrees with Clement in regard to this conception. He also starts with the theory that the Church is essentially a heavenly communion and a holy communion of believers, and keeps this idea constantly before him.[159] When opposing heretics, he also, like Clement, cannot help identifying her with the Catholic Church, because the latter contains the true doctrine, though he likewise refrains from acknowledging any hierarchy.[160] But Origen is influenced by two further considerations, which are scarcely hinted at in Clement, but which were called forth by the actual course of events and signified a further development in the idea of the Church. For, in the first place, Origen saw himself already compelled to examine closely the distinction between the essence and the outward appearance of the Church, and, in this process, reached results which again called in question the identification of the Holy Church with the empiric Catholic one (see on this point the following chapter). Secondly, in consequence of the extraordinary extension and powerful position attained by the Catholic Church by the time of Philip the Arabian, Origen, giving a new interpretation to a very old Christian notion and making use of a Platonic conception,[161] arrived at the idea that she was the earthly Kingdom of God, destined to enter the world, to absorb the Roman Empire and indeed all mankind, and to unite and take the place of the various secular states.[162] This magnificent idea, which regards the Church as [Greek: kosmos tou kosmou][163], denoted indeed a complete departure from the original theory of the subject, determined by eschatological considerations; though we must not forget that Origen still demanded a really holy Church and a new polity. Hence, as he also distinguishes the various degrees of connection with the Church,[164] we already find in his theory a combination of all the features that became essential parts of the conception of the Church in subsequent times, with the exception of the clerical element.[165] 3. The contradictory notions of the Church, for so they appear to us, in Irenæus and Clement and still more in Tertullian and Origen, need not astonish any one who bears in mind that none of these Fathers made the Church the subject of a theological theory.[166] Hence no one as yet thought of questioning the old article: "I believe in a holy Church." But, at the same time, actual circumstances, though they did not at first succeed in altering the Church's belief, forced her to _realise_ her changed position, for she had in point of fact become an association which was founded on a definite law of doctrine and rejected everything that did not conform to it. The identifying of this association with the ideal Church was a matter of course,[167] but it was quite as natural to take no immediate _theoretical_ notice of the identification except in cases where it was absolutely necessary, that is, in polemics. In the latter case the unity of faith and hope became the unity of the doctrine of faith, and the Church was, in this instance, legitimised by the possession of the apostolic tradition instead of by the realising of that tradition in heart and life. From the principle that had been set up it necessarily followed that the apostolic inheritance on which the truth and legitimacy of the Church was based, could not but remain an imperfect court of appeal until _living_ authorities could be pointed to in this court, and until _every_ possible cause of strife and separation was settled by reference to it. An empirical community cannot be ruled by a traditional written word, but only by persons; for the written law will always separate and split. If it has such persons, however, it can tolerate within it a great amount of individual differences, provided that the leaders subordinate the interests of the whole to their own ambition. We have seen how Irenæus and Tertullian, though they in all earnestness represented the _fides catholica_ and _ecclesia catholica_ as inseparably connected,[168] were already compelled to have recourse to bishops in order to ensure the apostolic doctrine. The conflicts within the sphere of the rule of faith, the struggles with the so-called Montanism, but finally and above all, the existing situation of the Church in the third century with regard to the world within her pale, made the question of organisation the vital one for her. Tertullian and Origen already found themselves face to face with episcopal claims of which they highly disapproved and which, in their own way, they endeavoured to oppose. It was again the Roman bishop[169] who first converted the proposition that the bishops are direct successors of the Apostles and have the same "locus magisterii" ("place of government") into a theory which declares that _all_ apostolic powers have devolved on the bishops and that these have therefore peculiar rights and duties in virtue of their office.[170] Cyprian added to this the corresponding theory of the Church. In one decisive point, however, he did not assist the secularising process which had been completed by the Roman bishop, in the interest of Catholicity as well as in that of the Church's existence (see the following chapter). In the second half of the third century there were no longer any Churches, except remote communities, where the only requirement was to preserve the Catholic faith; the bishops had to be obeyed. The idea of the one episcopally organised Church became the main one and overshadowed the significance of the doctrine of faith as a bond of unity. _The Church based on the bishops, the successors of the Apostles, the vicegerents of God, is herself the legacy of the Apostles in virtue of this her foundation._ This idea was never converted into a rigid theory in the East, though the reality to which it corresponded was not the less certain on that account. The fancy that the earthly hierarchy was the image of the heavenly was the only part that began to be taken in real earnest. In the West, on the other hand, circumstances compelled the Carthaginian bishop to set up a finished theory.[171] According to Cyprian, the Catholic Church, to which all the lofty predictions and predicates in the Bible apply (see Hartel's index under "ecclesia"), is the one institution of salvation outside of which there is no redemption (ep. 73. 21). She is this, moreover, not only as the community possessing the true apostolic faith, for this definition does not exhaust her conception, but as a harmoniously organised federation.[172] This Church therefore rests entirely on the episcopate, which sustains her,[173] because it is the continuance of the apostolic office and is equipped with all the power of the Apostles.[174] Accordingly, the union of individuals with the Church, and therefore with Christ, is effected only by obedient dependence on the bishop, i.e., such a connection alone makes one a member of the Church. But the unity of the Church, which is an attribute of equal importance with her truth, because this union is only brought about by love,[175] primarily appears in the unity of the episcopate. For, according to Cyprian, the episcopate has been from its beginning undivided and has continued to be so in the Church, in so far as the bishops are appointed and guided by God, are on terms of brotherly intercourse and exchange, and each bishop represents the whole significance of the episcopate.[176] Hence the individual bishops are no longer to be considered primarily as leaders of their special communities, but as the foundation of the one Church. Each of these prelates, however, provided he keeps within the association of the bishops, preserves the independent right of regulating the circumstances of his own diocese.[177] But it also follows that the bishops of those communities founded by the Apostles themselves can raise no claim to any special dignity, since the unity of the episcopate as a continuation of the apostolic office involves the equality of all bishops.[178] However, a special importance attaches to the Roman see, because it is the seat of the Apostle to whom Christ first granted apostolic authority in order to show with unmistakable plainness the unity of these powers and the corresponding unity of the Church that rests on them; and further because, from her historical origin, the Church of this see had become the mother and root of the Catholic Church spread over the earth. In a severe crisis which Cyprian had to pass through in his own diocese he appealed to the Roman Church (the Roman bishop) in a manner which made it appear as if communion with that Church was in itself the guarantee of truth. But in the controversy about heretical baptism with the Roman bishop Stephen, he emphatically denied the latter's pretensions to exercise special rights over the Church in consequence of the Petrine succession.[179] Finally, although Cyprian exalted the unity of the organisation of the Church above the unity of the doctrine of faith, he preserved the Christian element so far as to assume in all his statements that the bishops display a moral and Christian conduct in keeping with their office, and that otherwise they have _ipso facto_ forfeited it.[180] Thus, according to Cyprian, the episcopal office does not confer any indelible character, though Calixtus and other bishops of Rome after him presupposed this attribute. (For more details on this point, as well as with regard to the contradictions that remain unreconciled in Cyprian's conception of the Church, see the following chapter, in which will be shown the ultimate interests that lie at the basis of the new idea of the Church). _Addendum I._--The great confederation of Churches which Cyprian presupposes and which he terms _the_ Church was in truth not complete, for it cannot be proved that it extended to any regions beyond the confines of the Roman Empire or that it even embraced all orthodox and episcopally organised communities within those bounds.[181] But, further, the conditions of the confederation, which only began to be realised in the full sense in the days of Constantine, were never definitely formulated--before the fourth century at least.[182] Accordingly, the idea of the one exclusive Church, embracing all Christians and founded on the bishops, was always a mere theory. But, in so far as it is not the idea, but its realisation to which Cyprian here attaches sole importance, his dogmatic conception appears to be refuted by actual circumstances.[183] _Addendum II._--The idea of heresy is always decided by the idea of the Church. The designation [Greek: hairesis] implies an adherence to something self-chosen in opposition to the acknowledgment of something objectively handed down, and assumes that this is the particular thing in which the apostasy consists. Hence all those who call themselves Christians and yet do not adhere to the traditional apostolic creed, but give themselves up to vain and empty doctrines, are regarded as heretics by Hegesippus, Irenæus, Tertullian, Clement, and Origen. These doctrines are as a rule traced to the devil, that is, to the non-Christian religions and speculations, or to wilful wickedness. Any other interpretation of their origin would at once have been an acknowledgment that the opponents of the Church had a right to their opinions,[184] and such an explanation is not quite foreign to Origen in one of his lines of argument.[185] Hence the orthodox party were perfectly consistent in attaching no value to any sacrament[186] or acts esteemed in their own communion, when these were performed by heretics;[187] and this was a practical application of the saying that the devil could transform himself into an angel of light.[188] But the Fathers we have named did not yet completely identify the Church with a harmoniously organised institution. For that very reason they do not absolutely deny the Christianity of such as take their stand on the rule of faith, even when these for various reasons occupy a position peculiar to themselves. Though we are by no means entitled to say that they acknowledged orthodox schismatics, they did not yet venture to reckon them simply as heretics.[189] If it was desired to get rid of these, an effort was made to impute to them some deviation from the rule of faith; and under this pretext the Church freed herself from the Montanists and the Monarchians.[190] Cyprian was the first to proclaim the identity of heretics and schismatics, by making a man's Christianity depend on his belonging to the great episcopal Church confederation.[191] But, both in East and West, this theory of his became established only by very imperceptible degrees, and indeed, strictly speaking, the process was never completed at all. The distinction between heretics and schismatics was preserved, because it prevented a public denial of the old principles, because it was advisable on political grounds to treat certain schismatic communities with indulgence, and because it was always possible in case of need to prove heresy against the schismatics.[192] _Addendum III._--As soon as the empiric Church ruled by the bishops was proclaimed to be the foundation of the Christian religion, we have the fundamental premises for the conception that everything progressively adopted by the Church, all her functions, institutions, and liturgy, in short, all her continuously changing arrangements were holy and apostolic. But the courage to draw all the conclusions here was restrained by the fact that certain portions of tradition, such as the New Testament canon of Scripture and the apostolic doctrine, had been once for all exalted to an unapproachable height. Hence it was only with slowness and hesitation that Christians accepted the inferences from the idea of the Church in the remaining directions, and these conclusions always continued to be hampered with some degree of uncertainty. The idea of the [Greek: paradosis agraphos]; (unwritten tradition); i.e., that every custom, however recent, within the sphere of outward regulations, of public worship, discipline, etc., is as holy and apostolic as the Bible and the "faith", never succeeded in gaining complete acceptance. In this case, complicated, uncertain, and indistinct assumptions were the result. Footnotes: [Footnote 20: In itself the predicate "Catholic" contains no element that signifies a secularising of the Church. "Catholic" originally means Christianity in its totality as contrasted with single congregations. Hence the concepts "all communities" and the "universal Church" are identical. But from the beginning there was a dogmatic element in the concept of the universal Church, in so far as the latter was conceived to have been spread over the whole earth by the Apostles; an idea which involved the conviction that only that could be true which was found _everywhere_ in Christendom. Consequently, "entire or universal Christendom," "the Church spread over the whole earth," and "the true Church" were regarded as identical conceptions. In this way the concept "Catholic" became a pregnant one, and finally received a dogmatic and political content. As this result actually took place, it is not inappropriate to speak of pre-Catholic and Catholic Christianity.] [Footnote 21: _Translator's note._ The following is Tertullian's Latin as given by Professor Harnack: Cap. 21: "Constat omnem doctrinam quæ cum ecclesiis apostolicis matricibus et originalibus fidei conspiret veritati deputandam, id sine dubio tenentem quod ecclesiæ ab apostolis, apostoli a Christo, Christus a deo accepit." Cap. 36: "Videamus quid (ecclesia Romanensis) didicerit, quid docuerit, cum Africanis quoque ecclesiis contesserarit. Unum deum dominum novit, creatorem universitatis, et Christum Iesum ex virgine Maria filium dei creatoris, et carnis resurrectionem; legem et prophetas cum evangelicis et apostolicis litteris miscet; inde potat fidem, eam aqua signat, sancto spiritu vestit, eucharistia pascit, martyrium exhortatur, et ita adversus hanc institutionem neminem recipit." Chap. 32: "Evolvant ordinem episcoporum suorum, ita per successionem ab initio decurrentem, ut primus ille episcopus aliquem ex apostolis vel apostolicis viris, qui tamen cum apostolis perseveravit, habuerit auctorem et antecessorem."] [Footnote 22: None of the three standards, for instance, were in the original of the first six books of the Apostolic Constitutions, which belong to the third century and are of Syrian origin; but instead of them the Old Testament and Gospel on the one hand, and the bishop, as the God of the community, on the other, are taken as authorities.] [Footnote 23: See Zahn, Glaubensregel und Taufbekenntniss in der alten Kirche in the Zeitschrift f. Kirchl. Wissensch. u. Kirchl. Leben, 1881, Part 6, p. 302 ff., especially p. 314 ff. In the Epistle of Jude, v. 3, mention is made of the [Greek: hapax paradotheisa tois hagiois pistis], and in v. 20 of "building yourselves up in your most holy faith." See Polycarp, ep. III. 2 (also VII. 2; II. 1). In either case the expressions [Greek: kanôn tês pisteôs, kanôn tês alêtheias], or the like, might stand for [Greek: pistis], for the faith itself is primarily the canon; but it is the canon only in so far as it is comprehensible and plainly defined. Here lies the transition to a new interpretation of the conception of a standard in its relation to the faith. Voigt has published an excellent investigation of the concept [Greek: ho kanôn tês alêtheias] cum synonymis (Eine verschollene Urkunde des antimont. Kampfes, 1891, pp. 184-205).] [Footnote 24: In Hermas, Mand. I., we find a still shorter formula which only contains the Confession of the monarchy of God, who created the world, that is the formula [Greek: pisteôu eis hena theon pantakratora], which did not originate with the baptismal ceremony. But though at first the monarchy may have been the only dogma in the strict sense, the mission of Jesus Christ beyond doubt occupied a place alongside of it from the beginning; and the new religion was inconceivable without this.] [Footnote 25: See on this point Justin, index to Otto's edition. It is not surprising that formulæ similar to those used at baptism were employed in the exorcism of demons. However, we cannot immediately infer from the latter what was the wording of the baptismal confession. Though, for example, it is an established fact that in Justin's time demons were exorcised with the words: "In the name of Jesus Christ who was crucified under Pontius Pilate," it does not necessarily follow from this that these words were also found in the baptismal confession. The sign of the cross was made over those possessed by demons; hence nothing was more natural than that these words should be spoken. Hence they are not necessarily borrowed from a baptismal confession.] [Footnote 26: These facts were known to every Christian. They are probably also alluded to in Luke I. 4.] [Footnote 27: The most important result of Caspari's extensive and exact studies is the establishment of this fact and the fixing of the wording of the Romish Confession. (Ungedruckte, unbeachtete und wenig beachtete Quellen z. Gesch. des Taufsymbols u d. Glaubensregels. 3 Vols. 1866-1875. Alte u. neue Quellen zur Gesch. des Taufsymbols u. d. Glaubensregel, 1879). After this Hahn, Bibliothek d. Symbole u. Glaubensregeln der alten Kirche. 2 Aufl. 1877; see also my article "Apostol. Symbol" in Herzog's R.E.. 2nd. ed., as well as Book I. of the present work, Chap. III. § 2.] [Footnote 28: This supposition is based on observation of the fact that particular statements of the Roman Symbol, in exactly the same form or nearly so, are found in many early Christian writings. See Patr. App. Opp. I. 2, ed. 2, pp. 115-42.] [Footnote 29: The investigations which lead to this result are of a very complicated nature and cannot therefore be given here. We must content ourselves with remarking that all Western baptismal formulæ (creeds) may be traced back to the Roman, and that there was no universal Eastern creed on parallel lines with the latter. There is no mistaking the importance which, in these circumstances, is to be attributed to the Roman symbol and Church as regards the development of Catholicism.] [Footnote 30: This caused the pronounced tendency of the Church to the formation of dogma, a movement for which Paul had already paved the way. The development of Christianity, as attested, for example, by the [Greek: Didachê], received an additional factor in the dogmatic tradition, which soon gained the upper hand. The great reaction is then found in monasticism. Here again the rules of morality become the prevailing feature, and therefore the old Christian gnomic literature attains in this movement a second period of vigour. In it again dogmatics only form the background for the strict regulation of life. In the instruction given as a preparation for baptism the Christian moral commandments were of course always inculcated, and the obligation to observe these was expressed in the renunciation of Satan and all his works. In consequence of this, there were also fixed formulæ in these cases.] [Footnote 31: See the Pastoral Epistles, those of John and of Ignatius; also the epistle of Jude, 1 Clem. VII., Polycarp, ad Philipp. VII., II. 1, VI. 3, Justin.] [Footnote 32: In the apologetic writings of Justin the courts of appeal invariably continue to be the Old Testament, the words of the Lord, and the communications of prophets; hence he has hardly insisted on any other in his anti-heretical work. On the other hand we cannot appeal to the observed fact that Tertullian also, in his apologetic writings, did not reveal his standpoint as a churchman and opponent of heresy; for, with one exception, he did not discuss heretics in these tractates at all. On the contrary Justin discussed their position even in his apologetic writings; but nowhere, for instance, wrote anything similar to Theophilus' remarks in "ad Autol.," II. 14. Justin was acquainted with and frequently alluded to fixed formulæ and perhaps a baptismal symbol related to the Roman, if not essentially identical with it. (See Bornemann. Das Taufsymbol Justins in the Ztschr. f. K. G. Vol. III. p. 1 ff.), but we cannot prove that he utilised these formulæ in the sense of Irenæus and Tertullian. We find him using the expression [Greek: orthognômones] in Dial. 80. The resurrection of the flesh and the thousand years' kingdom (at Jerusalem) are there reckoned among the beliefs held by the [Greek: orthognômones kata panta Christianoi]. But it is very characteristic of the standpoint taken up by Justin that he places between the heretics inspired by demons and the orthodox a class of Christians to whom he gives the general testimony that they are [Greek: tês katharas kai eusebous gnômês], though they are not fully orthodox in so far as they reject one important doctrine. Such an estimate would have been impossible to Irenæus and Tertullian. They have advanced to the principle that he who violates the law of faith in one point is guilty of breaking it all.] [Footnote 33: Hatch, "Organisation of the Church," p. 96.] [Footnote 34: We can only conjecture that some teachers in Asia Minor contemporary with Irenæus, or even of older date, and especially Melito, proceeded in like manner, adhering to Polycarp's exclusive attitude. Dionysius of Corinth (Eusebius, H. E. IV. 23. 2, 4) may perhaps be also mentioned.] [Footnote 35: Irenæus set forth his theory in a great work, adv. hæres., especially in the third book. Unfortunately his treatise, "[Greek: logos eis epideixin tou apostolikou kêrygmatos]", probably the oldest treatise on the rule of faith, has not been preserved (Euseb., H. E. V. 26.)] [Footnote 36: Irenæus indeed asserts in several passages that all Churches--those in Germany, Iberia, among the Celts, in the East, in Egypt, in Lybia and Italy; see I. 10. 2; III. 3. 1; III. 4. 1 sq.--possess the same apostolic _kerygma_; but "qui nimis probat nihil probat." The extravagance of the expressions shows that a dogmatic theory is here at work. Nevertheless this is based on the correct view that the Gnostic speculations are foreign to Christianity and of later date.] [Footnote 37: We must further point out here that Irenæus not only knew the tradition of the Churches of Asia Minor and Rome, but that he had sat at the feet of Polycarp and associated in his youth with many of the "elders" in Asia. Of these he knew for certain that they in part did not approve of the Gnostic doctrines and in part would not have done so. The confidence with which he represented his antignostic interpretation of the creed as that of the Church of the Apostles was no doubt owing to this sure historical recollection. See his epistle to Florinus in Euseb., H. E. V. 20 and his numerous references to the "elders" in his great work. (A collection of these may be found in Patr. App. Opp. I. 3, p. 105 sq.)] [Footnote 38: Caspari's investigations leave no room for doubt as to the relation of the rule of faith to the baptismal confession. The baptismal confession was not a deposit resulting from fluctuating anti-heretical rules of faith; but the latter were the explanations of the baptismal confession. The full authority of the confession itself was transferred to every elucidation that appeared necessary, in so far as the needful explanation was regarded as given with authority. Each momentary formula employed to defend the Church against heresy has therefore the full value of the creed. This explains the fact that, beginning with Irenæus' time, we meet with differently formulated rules of faith, partly in the same writer, and yet each is declared to be _the_ rule of faith. Zahn is virtually right when he says, in his essay quoted above, that the rule of faith is the baptismal confession. But, so far as I can judge, he has not discerned the dilemma in which the Old Catholic Fathers were placed, and which they were not able to conceal. This dilemma arose from the fact that the Church needed an apostolic creed, expressed in fixed formulæ and at the same time definitely interpreted in an anti-heretical sense; whereas she only possessed, and this not in all churches, a baptismal confession, contained in fixed formulæ but not interpreted, along with an ecclesiastical tradition which was not formulated, although it no doubt excluded the most offensive Gnostic doctrines. It was not yet possible for the Old Catholic Fathers to frame and formulate that doctrinal confession, and they did not attempt it. The only course therefore was to assert that an elastic collection of doctrines which were ever being formulated anew, was a fixed standard in so far as it was based on a fixed creed. But this dilemma--we do not know how it was viewed by opponents--proved an advantage in the end, for it enabled churchmen to make continual additions to the rule of faith, whilst at the same time continuing to assert its identity with the baptismal confession. We must make the reservation, however, that not only the baptismal confession, but other fixed propositions as well, formed the basis on which particular rules of faith were formulated.] [Footnote 39: Besides Irenæus I. 10. 1, 2, cf. 9. 1-5; 22. 1; II. 1. 1; 9. 1; 28. 1; 32. 3, 4; III. 1-4; 11. 1; 12. 9; 15. 1; 16. 5 sq.; 18. 3; 24. 1; IV. 1. 2; 9. 2; 20. 6; 33. 7 sq.; V. Præf. 12. 5; 20. 1.] [Footnote 40: See Iren. I. 31. 3; II. Præf. 19. 8.] [Footnote 41: This expression is not found in Irenæus, but is very common in Tertullian.] [Footnote 42: See de præscr. 13: "Hæc regula a Christo instituta nullas habet apud nos quæstiones."] [Footnote 43: See I. c. 14: "Ceterum manente forma regulæ in suo ordine quantumlibet quæras et tractes." See de virg. vol. 1.] [Footnote 44: See 1. c. 14: "Fides in regula posita est, habet legem et salutem de observatione legis," and de vir. vol. 1.] [Footnote 45: See de præscr. 21: "Si hæc ita sunt, constat perinde omnem doctrinam, quæ cum illis ecclesiis apostolicis matricibus et originalibus fidei conspiret, veritati deputandum ... Superest ergo ut demonstremus an hæc nostra doctrina, cujus regulam supra edidimus, de apostolorum traditione censeatur ... Communicamus cum ecclesiis catholicis, quod nulla doctrina diversa." De præscr. 32: "Ecclesiæ, quæ licet nullum ex apostolis auctorem suum proferant, ut multo posteriores, tamen in eadem fide conspirantes non minus apostolicæ deputantur pro consanguinitate doctrinæ." That Tertullian regards the baptismal confession as identical with the _regula fidei_, just as Irenæus does, is shown by the fact that in de spectac. 4 ("Cum aquam ingressi Christianam fidem in legis suæ verba profitemur, renuntiasse nos diabolo et pompæ et angelis eius ore nostro contestamur.") the baptismal confession is the _lex_. He also calls it "sacramentum" (military oath) in ad mart. 3; de idolol. 6; de corona 11; Scorp. 4. But he likewise gives the same designation to the interpreted baptismal confession (de præscr. 20, 32; adv. Marc. IV. 5); for we must regard the passages cited as referring to this. Adv. Marc. I. 21: "regula sacramenti;" likewise V. 20, a passage specially instructive as to the fact that there can be only one regula. The baptismal confession itself had a fixed and short form (see de spectac. 4; de corona, 3: "amplius aliquid respondentes quam dominus in evangelio determinavit;" de bapt. 2: "homo in aqua demissus et inter pauca verba tinctus;" de bapt. 6, 11; de orat. 2 etc.). We can still prove that, apart from a subsequent alteration, it was the Roman confession that was used in Carthage in the days of Tertullian. In de præscr. 26 Tertullian admits that the Apostles may have spoken some things "inter domesticos," but declares that they could not be communications "quæ aliam regulam fidei superducerent."] [Footnote 46: De præscr. 13; de virg. vol. 1; adv. Prax. 2. The latter passage is thus worded: "Unicum quidem deum credimus, sub hac tamen dispensatione quam [Greek: oikonomian] dicimus, ut unici del sit et filius sermo ipsius, qui ex ipso processerit, per quern omnia facta sunt et sine quo factum est nihil, hunc missum a patre in virginem et ex ea natum, hominem et deum, filium hominis et filium dei et cognominatum Iesum Christum, hunc passum, hunc mortuum et sepultum secundum scripturas et resuscitatum a patre et in coelo resumptum sedere ad dextram patris, venturum judicare vivos et mortuos; qui exinde miserit secundum promissionem suam a patre spiritum s. paracletum sanctificatorem fidei eorum qui credunt in patrem et filium et spiritum s. Hanc regulam ab initio evangelii decucurrisse."] [Footnote 47: De præscr. 13.] [Footnote 48: L.c.] [Footnote 49: L.c.] [Footnote 50: L.c.: "id verbum filium eius appellatum, in nomine dei varie visum a patriarchis, in prophetis semper auditum, postremo delatum ex spiritu patris dei et virtute in virginem Mariam, carnem factum," etc.] [Footnote 51: L.c.] [Footnote 52: Adv. Prax. 2: "Unicum quidem deum credimus, sub hac tamen dispensatione quam [Greek: oikonomian] dicimus, ut unici dei sit et filius sermo ipsius," etc.] [Footnote 53: But Tertullian also knows of a "regula disciplinæ" (according to the New Testament) on which he puts great value, and thereby shows that he has by no means forgotten that Christianity is a matter of conduct. We cannot enter more particularly into this rule here.] [Footnote 54: Note here the use of "contesserare" in Tertullian. See de præscr. 20: "Itaque tot ac tantæ ecclesiæ una est illa ab apostolis prima, ex qua omnes. Sic omnes prima et omnes apostolicæ, dum una omnes. Probant unitatem communicatio pacis et appellatio fraternitatis et _contesseratio_ hospitalitatis, quæ iura non alia ratio regit quam eiusdem sacramenti una traditio." De præscr. 36: "Videamus, quid ecclesia Romanensis cum Africanis ecclesiis contesserarit."] [Footnote 55: We need not here discuss whether and in what way the model of the philosophic schools was taken as a standard. But we may refer to the fact that from the middle of the second century the Apologists, that is the Christian philosophers, had exercised a very great influence on the Old Catholic Fathers. But we cannot say that 2. John 7-11 and Didache XI. 1 f. attest the practice to be a very old one. These passages only show that it had preparatory stages; the main element, namely, the formulated summary of the faith, is there sought for in vain.] [Footnote 56: Herein lay the defect, even if the content of the law of faith had coincided completely with the earliest tradition. A man like Tertullian knew how to protect himself in his own way from this defect, but his attitude is not typical.] [Footnote 57: Hegesippus, who wrote about the time of Eleutherus, and was in Rome about the middle of the second century (probably somewhat earlier than Irenæus), already set up the apostolic rule of faith as a standard. This is clear from the description of his work in Euseb., H. E. IV. 8. 2 ([Greek: en pente sungrammasin tên aplanê paradosin tou apostolikou kêrygmatos hypomnêmatisamenos]) as well as from the fragments of this work (l.c. IV. 22. 2, 3: [Greek: ho orthos logos] and § 5 [Greek: emerisan tên henôsin tês ekklêsias phthorimaiois logois kata tou theou]; see also § 4). Hegesippus already regarded the unity of the Church as dependent on the correct doctrine. Polycrates (Euseb., H. E. V. 24. 6) used the expression [Greek: ho kanôn tês pisteôs] in a very wide sense. But we may beyond doubt attribute to him the same conception with regard to the significance of the rule of faith as was held by his opponent Victor. The Antimontanist (in Euseb. H. E. V. 16. 22.) will only allow that the martyrs who went to death for the [Greek: kata alêtheian pistis] were those belonging to the Church. The _regula fidei_ is not here meant, as in this case it was not a subject of dispute. On the other hand, the anonymous writer in Eusebius, H. E. V. 28. 6, 13 understood by [Greek: to ekklêsiastikon phronêma] or [Greek: ho kanôn tês archaias pisteôs] the interpreted baptismal confession, just as Irenæus and Tertullian did. Hippolytus entirely agrees with these (see Philosoph. Præf., p. 4. v. 50 sq. and X. 32-34). Whether we are to ascribe the theory of Irenæus to Theophilus is uncertain. His idea of the Church is that of Irenæus (ad Autol. II. 14): [Greek: dedôken ho Theos tô kosmô kumainomenô kai cheimazomenô hypo tôn hamartêmatôn tas synagôgas, legomenas de ekklêsias hagias, en ais kathaper limesin euormois en nêsois hai didaskaliai tês alêtheias eisin ... Kai hôsper au nêsoi eisin heterai petrôdeis kai anudroi kai akarpoi kai thêriôdeis kai aoikêtoi epi blabê tôn pleontôn ... houtôs eisin hai didaskaliai tês planês, legô de tôn haireseôn, hai exapolluousin tous prosiontas autais.]] [Footnote 58: This has been contested by Caspari (Ztschr. f. Kirchl. Wissensch. 1886, Part. 7, p. 352 ff.: "Did the Alexandrian Church in Clement's time possess a baptismal confession or not?"); but his arguments have not convinced me. Caspari correctly shows that in Clement the expression "ecclesiastical canon" denotes the summary of the Catholic faith and of the Catholic rule of conduct; but he goes on to trace the baptismal confession, and that in a fixed form, in the expression [Greek: hê peri tôn megistôn homologia], Strom. VII. 15. 90 (see remarks on this passage below), and is supported in this view by Voigt, l.c. p. 196 ff. I also regard this as a baptismal confession; but it is questionable if it was definitely formulated, and the passage is not conclusive on the point. But, supposing it to be definitely formulated, who can prove that it went further than the formula in Hermas, Mand. I. with the addition of a mere mention of the Son and Holy Spirit. That a free _kerygma_ of Christ and some other matter were added to Hermas, Mand. I. may still be proved by a reference to Orig. Comm. in Joh. XXXII. 9 (see the passage in vol. I. p. 155.).] [Footnote 59: [Greek: Hê kyriakê didaskalia], e.g., VI. 15. 124; VI. 18. 165; VII. 10. 57; VII. 15. 90; VII. 18. 165, etc.] [Footnote 60: We do not find in Clement the slightest traces of a baptismal confession related to the Roman, unless we reckon the [Greek: Theos pantokratôr] or [Greek: eis Th. p.] as such. But this designation of God is found everywhere and is not characteristic of the baptismal confession. In the lost treatise on the Passover Clement expounded the "[Greek: paradoseis tôn archaiôn presbyterôn]" which had been transmitted to him.] [Footnote 61: Considering the importance of the matter it is necessary to quote as copiously as possible from original sources. In Strom. IV. 15. 98, we find the expression [Greek: ho kanôn teê pisteôs]; but the context shows that it is used here in a quite general sense. With regard to the statement of Paul: "whatever you do, do it to the glory of God," Clement remarks [Greek: hosa hypo ton kanona tês pisteôs poiein epitetraptai]. In Strom. I. 19. 96; VI. 15. 125; VI. 18. 165; VII. 7. 41; VII. 15. 90; VII. 16. 105 we find [Greek: ho kanôn tês ekklêsias (ekklêsiastikos)]. In the first passage that canon is the rule for the right observance of the Lord's Supper. In the other passages it describes no doubt the correct doctrine, that is, the rule by which the orthodox Gnostic has to be guided in contrast with the heretics who are guided by their own desires (it is therefore parallel to the [Greek: didaskalia tou kyriou]); but Clement feels absolutely no need to mention wherein this ecclesiastical canon consists. In Strom IV. 1. 3; VI. 15. 124; VI 15. 131; VII. 16. 94, we find the expression [Greek: ho kanôn tês alêtheias]. In the first passage it is said: [Greek: hê goun kata ton tês alêtheias kanona gnôstikês paradoseôs physiologia, mallon de epopteia, ek tou peri kosmogonias êrtêtai logou, enthende anabainousa epi to theologikon eidos]. Here no one can understand by the rule of truth what Tertullian understood by it. Very instructive is the second passage in which Clement is dealing with the right and wrong exposition of Scripture. He says first: [Greek: parakatathêke apodidomenê Theô hê kata tên tou kyriou didaskalian dia tôn apostolôn autou tês theosebous paradoseôs synesis te kai synaskêsis]; then he demands that the Scriptures be interpreted [Greek: kata ton tês alêtheias kanona], or [Greek: t. ekklês. kan.]; and continues (125): [Greek: kanôn de ekklêsiastikos hê synôdia kai hê symphônia nomou te kai prophêtôn tê kata tên tou kyriou parousian paradidomenê diathêkê]. Here then the agreement of the Old Testament with the Testament of Christ is described as the ecclesiastical canon. Apart from the question as to whether Clement is here already referring to a New Testament canon of Scripture, his rule agrees with Tertullian's testimony about the Roman Church: "legem et prophetas cum evangelicis et apostolicis litteris miscet." But at any rate the passage shows the broad sense in which Clement used the term "ecclesiastical canon." The following expressions are also found in Clement: [Greek: hê alêthes tês makarias didaskalias paradosis] (I. 1. 11), [Greek: hai hagiai paradoseis] (VII. 18. 110), [Greek: hê eukleês kai semnos tês paradoseôs kanôn] (all gnosis is to be guided by this, see also [Greek: hê kata tên theian paradosin philosophia], I, 1. 15. I: 11. 52., also the expression [Greek: hê theia paradosis] (VII. 16. 103), [Greek: hê ekklêsiastike paradosis] (VII. 16. 95), [Greek: hai tou Christou paradoseis] (VII. 16. 99), [Greek: hê tou kyriou paradosis] (VII. 17. 106: VII. 16. 104), [Greek: hê theosebês paradosis] (VI. 15. 124)). Its content is not more precisely defined, and, as a rule, nothing more can be gathered from the context than what Clement once calls [Greek: to koinon tês pisteôs] (VII. 16. 97). Where Clement wishes to determine the content more accurately he makes use of supplementary terms. He speaks, e.g., in III. 10. 66 of the [Greek: kata alêtheian euangelikos kanôn], and means by that the tradition contained in the Gospels recognised by the Church in contradistinction to that found in other gospels (IV. 4. 15: [Greek: kata ton kanona tou euangeliou] = [Greek: kata t. euang.]). In none of these formulæ is any notice taken of the Apostles. That Clement (like Justin) traced back the public tradition to the Apostles is a matter of course and manifest from I. 1. 11, where he gives an account of his early teachers ([Greek: hoi men tên alêthê tês makarias sôzontes didaskalias paradosin euthus apo Petrou te kai Iakôbou, Iôannou te kai Paulou tôn hagiôn apostolôn, tais para patros ekdechomenos hêkon dê syn theô kai eis hêmas ta progonika ekeina kai apostolika katathêsomenoi spermata]). Clement does not yet appeal to a hierarchical tradition through the bishops, but adheres to the natural one through the teachers, though he indeed admits an esoteric tradition alongside of it. On one occasion he also says that the true Gnostic keeps the [Greek: apostolikê kai ekklêsiastikê orthotomia tôn dogmatôn] (VII. 16. 104). He has no doubt that: [Greek: mia hê pantôn gegone tôn apostolôn hôsper didaskalia houtôs de kai hê paradosis] (VII. 17. 108). But all that might just as well have been written in the first half of the second century. On the tracing back of the Gnosis, the esoteric tradition, to the Apostles see Hypotyp. in Euseb., H. E. II. 1. 4, Strom. VI. 15. 131: [Greek: autika didaxantos tou sôtêros tous apostolous hê tês engraphou agraphos êdê kai eis hêmas diadidotai paradosis]. VI. 7. 61: [Greek: hê gnôsis de autê hê kata diadochas] (this is the only place where I find this expression) [Greek: eis oligous ek tôn apostolôn agraphôs paradotheisa katelêluthen], ibid [Greek: hê gnôstikê paradosis]; VII. 10. 55: [Greek: hê gnôsis ek paradoseôs diadidomenê tois axious sphas autous tês didaskalias parechomenois oion parakatathêkê egcheirizetai]. In VII. 17. 106 Clement has briefly recorded the theories of the Gnostic heretics with regard to the apostolic origin of their teaching, and expressed his doubts. That the tradition of the "Old Church," for so Clement designates the orthodox Church as distinguished from the "human congregation" of the heretics of his day, is throughout derived from the Apostles, he regards as so certain and self-evident that, as a rule, he never specially mentions it, or gives prominence to any particular article as apostolic. But the conclusion that he had no knowledge of any apostolic or fixed confession might seem to be disproved by one passage. It is said in Strom. VII. 15. 90: [Greek: Mê ti oun, ei kai parabaiê tis synthêkas kai tên homologian parelthoi tên pros hêmas, dia ton pseusamenon tên homologian aphexometha tês alêtheias kai hêmeis, all' hôs apseudein chrê ton epieikê kai mêden hôn hupeschêtai akuroun kan alloi tines parabainôsi synthêkas, outôs kai hêmas kata mêdena tropon ton ekklêsiastikon parabainein prosekei kanona kai malista tên peri tôn megistôn homologian hêmeis men phylattomen, oi de parabainousi]. But in the other passages in Clement where [Greek: homologia] appears it nowhere signifies a fixed formula of confession, but always the confession in general which receives its content according to the situation (see Strom. IV. 4. 15; IV. 9. 71; III. 1. 4: [Greek: egkrateia sômatos hyperopsia kata tên pros theon homologian]). In the passage quoted it means the confession of the main points of the true doctrine. It is possible or probable that Clement was here alluding to a confession at baptism, but that is also not quite certain. At any rate this one passage cannot prove that Clement identified the ecclesiastical canon with a formulated confession similar to or identical with the Roman, or else such identification must have appeared more frequently in his works.] [Footnote 62: De princip. l. I. præf. § 4-10., IV. 2. 2. Yet we must consider the passage already twice quoted, namely, Com. in John. XXXII. 9, in order to determine the practice of the Alexandrian Church at that time. Was this baptismal confession not perhaps compiled from Herm., Mand. I., and Christological and theological teachings, so that the later confessions of the East with their dogmatic details are already to be found here?] [Footnote 63: That may be also shown with regard to the New Testament canon. Very important is the declaration of Eusebius (H. E. VI. 14) that Origen, on his own testimony, paid a brief visit to Rome in the time of Zephyrinus, "because he wished to become acquainted with the ancient Church of the Romans." We learn from Jerome (de vir. inl. 61) that Origen there became acquainted with Hippolytus, who even called attention to his presence in the church in a sermon. That Origen kept up a connection with Rome still later and followed the conflicts there with keen interest may be gathered from his works. (See Döllinger, "Hippolytus und Calixtus" p. 254 ff.) On the other hand, Clement was quite unacquainted with that city. Bigg therefore l.c. rightly remarks: "The West is as unknown to Clement as it was to his favourite Homer." That there was a formulated [Greek: pistis kai homologia] in Alexandria about 250 A.D. is shown by the epistle of Dionysius (Euseb., H. E. VII. 8). He says of Novatian, [Greek: anatrepei tên pro loutrou pistin kai homologian]. Dionysius would hardly have reproduced this Roman reproach in that way, if the Alexandrian Church had not possessed a similar [Greek: pistis].] [Footnote 64: The original of the Apostolic Constitutions has as yet no knowledge of the Apostolic rule of faith in the Western sense.] [Footnote 65: The close of the first homily of Aphraates shows how simple, antique, and original this confession still was in outlying districts at the beginning of the fourth century. On the other hand, there were oriental communities where it was already heavily weighted with theology.] [Footnote 66: Cf. the epistles of Cyprian, especially ep. 69. 70. When Cyprian speaks (69. 7) of one and the same law which is held by the whole Catholic Church, and of one _symbol_ with which she administers baptism (this is the first time we meet with this expression), his words mean far more than the assertion of Irenæus that the confession expounded by him is the guiding rule in all Churches; for in Cyprian's time the intercourse of most Catholic communities with each other was so regulated that the state of things in each was to some extent really known. Cf. also Novatian, "de trinitate seu de regula fidei," as well as the circular letter of the Synod of Antioch referring to the Metropolitan Paul (Euseb., H. E. VII. 30. 6 ... [Greek: apostas tou kanonos epi kibdêla kai notha didagmata metelêluthen]), and the homilies of Aphraates. The closer examination of the last phase in the development of the confession of faith during this epoch, when the apostolic confessions received an interpretation in accordance with the theology of Origen, will be more conveniently left over till the close of our description (see chap. 7 fin).] [Footnote 67: See the histories of the canon by Credner, Reuss, Westcott, Hilgenfeld, Schmiedel, Holtzmann, and Weiss; the latter two, which to some extent supplement each other, are specially instructive. To Weiss belongs the merit of having kept Gospels and Apostles clearly apart in the preliminary history of the canon (see Th. L. Z. 1886. Nr. 24); Zahn, Gesch. des N. Tlichen Kanons, 2 vols, 1888 ff.; Harnack, Das Neue Test. um d. J. 200, 1889; Voigt, Eine verschollene Urkunde des antimontan. Kampfes, 1891, p. 236 ff.; Weizsäcker, Rede bei der akad. Preisvertheilung, 1892. Nov.; Köppel, Stud. u. Krit. 1891, p. 102 ff; Barth, Neue Jahrbb. f. deutsche Theologie, 1893, p. 56 ff. The following account gives only a few aspects of the case, not a history of the genesis of the canon.] [Footnote 68: "Holy" is not always equivalent to "possessing absolute authority." There are also various stages and degrees of "holy."] [Footnote 69: I beg here to lay down the following principles as to criticism of the New Testament. (1) It is not individual writings, but the whole book that has been immediately handed down to us. Hence, in the case of difficulties arising, we must first of all enquire, not whether the title and historical setting of a book are genuine or not, but if they are original, or were only given to the work when it became a component part of the collection. This also gives us the right to assume interpolations in the text belonging to the time when it was included in the canon, though this right must be used with caution. (2) Baur's "tendency-criticism" has fallen into disrepute; hence we must also free ourselves from the pedantry and hair-splitting which were its after effects. In consequence of the (erroneous) assumptions of the Tübingen school of critics a suspicious examination of the texts was justifiable and obligatory on their part. (3) Individual difficulties about the date of a document ought not to have the result of casting suspicion on it, when other good grounds speak in its favour; for, in dealing with writings which have no, or almost no accompanying literature, such difficulties cannot fail to arise. (4) The condition of the oldest Christianity up to the beginning of the second century did not favour literary forgeries or interpolations in support of a definite tendency. (5) We must remember that, from the death of Nero till the time of Trajan, very little is known of the history of the Church except the fact that, by the end of this time, Christianity had not only spread to an astonishing extent, but also had become vigorously consolidated.] [Footnote 70: The novelty lies first in the idea itself, secondly in the form in which it was worked out, inasmuch as Marcion would only admit the authority of one Gospel to the exclusion of all the rest, and added the Pauline epistles which had originally little to do with the conception of the apostolic doctrinal tradition of the Church.] [Footnote 71: It is easy to understand that, wherever there was criticism of the Old Testament, the Pauline epistles circulating in the Church would be thrust into the foreground. The same thing was done by the Manichæans in the Byzantine age.] [Footnote 72: Four passages may be chiefly appealed to in support of the opposite view, viz., 2 Peter III. 16; Polycarp ep. 12. 1; Barn. IV. 14; 2 Clem. II. 4. But the first is put out of court, as the second Epistle of Peter is quite a late writing. The second is only known from an unreliable Latin translation (see Zahn on the passage: "verba 'his scripturis' suspecta sunt, cum interpres in c. II. 3 ex suis inseruerit quod dictum est"), and even if the latter were faithful here, the quotation from the Psalms prefixed to the quotation from the Epistle to the Ephesians prevents us from treating the passage as certain evidence. As to the third passage ([Greek: mêpote, hôs gegraptai, polloi klêtoi, oligoi de eklektoi heurethômen]), it should be noted that the author of the Epistle of Barnabas, although he makes abundant use of the evangelic tradition, has nowhere else described evangelic writings as [Greek: graphê], and must have drawn from more sources than the canonic Gospels. Here, therefore, we have an enigma which may be solved in a variety of ways. It seems worth noting that it is a saying of the Lord which is here in question. But from the very beginning words of the Lord were equally reverenced with the Old Testament (see the Pauline Epistles). This may perhaps explain how the author--like 2 Clem. II. 4: [Greek: hetera de graphê legei hoti ouk êlthon kalesai dikaious alla hamartôlous]--has introduced a saying of this kind with the same formula as was used in introducing Old Testament quotations. Passages, such as Clem. XIII. 4: [Greek: legei ho theos: ou charis humin ei agapate k.t.l.] would mark the transition to this mode of expression. The correctness of this explanation is confirmed by observation of the fact that the same formula as was employed in the case of the Old Testament was used in making quotations from early Christian apocalypses, or utterances of early Christian prophets in the earliest period. Thus we already read in Ephesians V. 14: [Greek: dio legei: egeire ho katheudôn kai anasta ek tôn nekrôn kai epiphausei soi ho Christos]. That, certainly, is a saying of a Christian prophet, and yet it is introduced with the usual "[Greek: legei]". We also find a saying of a Christian prophet in Clem. XXIII. (the saying is more complete in 2 Clem. XI.) introduced with the words: [Greek: hê graphê hautê, hopou legei]. These examples may be multiplied still further. From all this we may perhaps assume that the trite formulæ of quotation "[Greek: graphê], [Greek: gegraptai]," etc., were applied wherever reference was made to sayings of the Lord and of prophets that were fixed in writings, even when the documents in question had not yet as a whole obtained canonical authority. Finally, we must also draw attention to the following:--The Epistle of Barnabas belongs to Egypt; and there probably, contrary to my former opinion, we must also look for the author of the second Epistle of Clement. There is much to favour the view that in Egypt _Christian_ writings were treated as sacred texts, without being united into a collection of equal rank with the Old Testament. (See below on this point.)] [Footnote 73: See on Justin Bousset. Die Evv.-Citate Justins. Gott., 1891. We may also infer from the expression of Hegesippus (Euseb., H. E. IV. 22. 3; Stephanus Gobarus in Photius, Bibl. 232. p. 288) that it was not Christian writings, but the Lord himself, who was placed on an equality with Law and Prophets. Very instructive is the formula: "Libri et epistolæ Pauli viri iusti" ([Greek: hai kath' hêmas bibloi kai hai prosepitoutois epistolai Paulou tou hosiou andros]), which is found in the Acta Mart. Scillit. anno 180 (ed. Robinson, Texts and Studies, 1891, I. 2, p. 114 f.), and tempts us to make certain conclusions. In the later recensions of the Acta the passage, characteristically enough, is worded: "Libri evangeliorum et epistolæ Pauli viri sanctissimi apostoli" or "Quattuor evv. dom. nostri J. Chr. et epp. S. Pauli ap. et omnis divinitus inspirata scriptura."] [Footnote 74: It is worthy of note that the Gnostics also, though they quote the words of the Apostles (John and Paul) as authoritative, place the utterances of the Lord on an unattainable height. See in support of this the epistle of Ptolemy to Flora.] [Footnote 75: Rev. I. 3; Herm. Vis. II. 4; Dionys. Cor. in Euseb., IV. 23. 11.] [Footnote 76: Tertullian, this Christian of the primitive type, still reveals the old conception of things in one passage where, reversing 2 Tim. III. 16, he says (de cultu fem. I. 3) "Legimus omnem scripturam ædificationi habilem divinitus inspirari."] [Footnote 77: The history of the collection of the Pauline Epistles may be traced back to the first century (1 Clem. XLVII. and like passages). It follows from the Epistle of Polycarp that this native of Asia Minor had in his hands all the Pauline Epistles (quotations are made from nine of the latter; these nine imply the four that are wanting, yet it must remain an open question whether he did not yet possess the Pastoral Epistles in their present form), also 1 Peter, 1 John (though he has not named the authors of these), the first Epistle of Clement and the Gospels. The extent of the writings read in churches which Polycarp is thus seen to have had approaches pretty nearly that of the later recognised canon. Compare, however, the way in which he assumes sayings from those writings to be well known by introducing them with "[Greek: eidotes]" (I. 3; IV. 1; V. 1). Ignatius likewise shows himself to be familiar with the writings which were subsequently united to form the New Testament. We see from the works of Clement, that, at the end of the second century, a great mass of Christian writings were collected in Alexandria and were used and honoured.] [Footnote 78: It should also be pointed out that Justin most probably used the Gospel of Peter among the [Greek: apomnêmoneumata]; see Texte u. Unters. IX. 2.] [Footnote 79: See my article in the Zeitschr. f. K. Gesch. Vol. IV. p. 471 ff. Zahn (Tatian's Diatessaron, 1881) takes a different view.] [Footnote 80: Justin also used the Gospel of John, but it is a disputed matter whether he regarded and used it like the other Gospels.] [Footnote 81: The Sabellians still used it in the third century, which is a proof of the great authority possessed by this Gospel in Christian antiquity. (Epiph., H. 62. 2.)] [Footnote 82: Euseb. H. E. IV. 29. 5.] [Footnote 83: In many regions the Gospel canon alone appeared at first, and in very many others it long occupied a more prominent place than the other canonical writings. Alexander of Alexandria, for instance, still calls God the giver of the Law, the Prophets, and the Gospels (Theodoret, I. 4).] [Footnote 84: Euseb., H. E. II. 26. 13. As Melito speaks here of the [Greek: akribeia tôn palaiôn bibliôn], and of [Greek: ta biblia tês palaias diathêkês], we may assume that he knows [Greek: ta biblia tês kainês diathêkês].] [Footnote 85: We may here leave undiscussed the hesitancy with regard to the admissibility of particular books. That the Pastoral Epistles had a fixed place in the canon almost from the very first is of itself a proof that the date of its origin cannot be long before 180. In connection with this, however, it is an important circumstance that Clement makes the general statement that the heretics reject the Epistles to Timothy (Strom. II. 12. 52: [Greek: hoi apo tôn haireseôn tas pros Timotheon athetousin epistolas]). They did not happen to be at the disposal of the Church at all till the middle of the second century.] [Footnote 86: Yet see the passage from Tertullian quoted, p. 15, note 1; see also the "receptior," de pudic. 20, the cause of the rejection of Hermas in the Muratorian Fragment and Tertull. de bapt. 17: "Quodsi quæ Pauli perperam scripta sunt exemplum Theclæ ad licentiam mulierum docendi tinguendique defendunt, sciant in Asia presbyterum, qui eam scripturam construxit, quasi titulo Pauli de suo cumulans, convictum atque confessum id se amore Pauli fecisse, loco decessisse." The hypothesis that the Apostles themselves (or the apostle John) compiled the New Testament was definitely set up by no one in antiquity and therefore need not be discussed. Augustine (c. Faustum XXII. 79) speaks frankly of "sancti et docti homines" who produced the New Testament. We can prove by a series of testimonies that the idea of the Church having compiled the New Testament writings was in no way offensive to the Old Catholic Fathers. As a rule, indeed, they are silent on the matter. Irenæus and Tertullian already treat the collection as simply existent.] [Footnote 87: Numerous examples may be found in proof of all these points, especially in the writings of Tertullian, though such are already to be met with in Irenæus also. He is not yet so bold in his allegorical exposition of the Gospels as Ptolemæus whom he finds fault with in this respect; but he already gives an exegesis of the books of the New Testament not essentially different from that of the Valentinians. One should above all read the treatise of Tertullian "de idololatria" to perceive how the authority of the New Testament was even by that time used for solving all questions.] [Footnote 88: I cannot here enter into the disputed question as to the position that should be assigned to the Muratorian Fragment in the history of the formation of the canon, nor into its interpretation, etc. See my article "Das Muratorische Fragment und die Entstehung einer Sammlung apostolisch-katholischer Schriften" in the Ztschr. f. K. Gesch. III. p. 358 ff. See also Overbeck, Zur Geschichte des Kanons, 1880; Hilgenfeld, in the Zeitschrift f. Wissensch. Theol. 1881, part 2; Schmiedel, Art. "Kanon" in Ersch. u. Gruber's Encykl., 2 Section, Vol. XXXII. p. 309 ff.; Zahn, Kanongeschichte, Vol. II. p. 1 ff. I leave the fragment and the conclusions I have drawn from it almost entirely out of account here. The following sketch will show that the objections of Overbeck have not been without influence on me.] [Footnote 89: The use of the word "canon" as a designation of the collection is first plainly demonstrable in Athanasius (ep. fest. of the year 365) and in the 59th canon of the synod of Laodicea. It is doubtful whether the term was already used by Origen. Besides, the word "canon" was not applied even to the Old Testament before the fourth century. The name "New Testament" (books of the New Testament) is first found in Melito and Tertullian. For other designations of the latter see Ronsch, Das N. T. Tertullian's p. 47 f. The most common name is "Holy Scriptures." In accordance with its main components the collection is designated as [Greek: to euangelion kai ho apostolos] (evangelicæ et apostolicæ litteræ); see Tertullian, de bapt. 15: "tam ex domini evangelio quam ex apostoli litteris." The name "writings of the Lord" is also found very early. It was already used for the Gospels at a time when there was no such thing as a canon. It was then occasionally transferred to all writings of the collection. Conversely, the entire collection was named, after the authors, a collection of apostolic writings, just as the Old Testament Scriptures were collectively called the writings of the prophets. Prophets and Apostles (= Old and New Testament) were now conceived as the media of God's revelation fixed in writing (see the Muratorian Fragment in its account of Hermas, and the designation of the Gospels as "Apostolic memoirs" already found in Justin.) This grouping became exceedingly important. It occasioned new speculations about the unique dignity of the Apostles and did away with the old collocation of Apostles and Prophets (that is Christian prophets). By this alteration we may measure the revolution of the times. Finally, the new collection was also called "the writings of the Church" as distinguished from the Old Testament and the writings of the heretics. This expression and its amplifications shew that it was the Church which selected these writings.] [Footnote 90: Here there is a distinction between Irenæus and Tertullian. The former disputed with heretics about the interpretation of the Scriptures, the latter, although he has read Irenæus, forbids such dispute. He cannot therefore have considered Irenæus' efforts as successful.] [Footnote 91: The reader should remember the different recensions of the Gospels and the complaints made by Dionysius of Corinth (in Euseb., H. E. IV. 23. 12).] [Footnote 92: That the text of these writings was at the same time revised is more than probable, especially in view of the beginnings and endings of many New Testament writings, as well as, in the case of the Gospels, from a comparison of the canon text with the quotations dating from the time when there was no canon. But much more important still is the perception of the fact that, in the course of the second century, a series of writings which had originally been circulated anonymously or under the name of an unknown author were ascribed to an Apostle and were also slightly altered in accordance with this. In what circumstances or at what time this happened, whether it took place as early as the beginning of the second century or only immediately before the formation of the canon, is in almost every individual case involved in obscurity, but the fact itself, of which unfortunately the Introductions to the New Testament still know so little, is, in my opinion, incontestable. I refer the reader to the following examples, without indeed being able to enter on the proof here (see my edition of the "Teaching of the Apostles" p. 106 ff). (1) The Gospel of Luke seems not to have been known to Marcion under this name, and to have been called so only at a later date. (2) The canonical Gospels of Matthew and Mark do not claim, through their content, to originate with these men; they were regarded as apostolic at a later period. (3) The so-called Epistle of Barnabas was first attributed to the Apostle Barnabas by tradition. (4) The Apocalypse of Hermas was first connected with an apostolic Hermas by tradition (Rom. XVI. 14). (5) The same thing took place with regard to the first Epistle of Clement (Philipp, IV. 3). (6) The Epistle to the Hebrews, originally the writing of an unknown author or of Barnabas, was transformed into a writing of the Apostle Paul (Overbeck zur Gesch. des Kanons, 1880), or given out to be such. (7) The Epistle of James, originally the communication of an early Christian prophet, or a collection of ancient holy addresses, first seems to have received the name of James in tradition. (8) The first Epistle of Peter, which originally appears to have been written by an unknown follower of Paul, first received its present name from tradition. The same thing perhaps holds good of the Epistle of Jude. Tradition was similarly at work, even at a later period, as may for example be recognised by the transformation of the epistle "de virginitate" into two writings by Clement. The critics of early Christian literature have created for themselves insoluble problems by misunderstanding the work of tradition. Instead of asking whether the tradition is reliable, they always wrestle with the dilemma "genuine or spurious", and can prove neither.] [Footnote 93: As regards its aim and contents, this book is furthest removed from the claim to be a portion of a collection of Holy Scriptures. Accordingly, so far as we know, its reception into the canon has no preliminary history.] [Footnote 94: People were compelled by internal and external evidence (recognition of their apostolicity; example of the Gnostics) to accept the epistles of Paul. But, from the Catholic point of view, a canon which comprised only the four Gospels and the Pauline Epistles, would have been at best an edifice of two wings without the central structure, and therefore incomplete and uninhabitable. The actual novelty was the bold insertion into its midst of a book, which, if everything is not deceptive, had formerly been only in private use, namely, the Acts of the Apostles, which some associated with an Epistle of Peter and an Epistle of John, others with an Epistle of Jude, two Epistles of John, and the like. There were now (1) writings of the Lord which were at the same time regarded as [Greek: apomnêmoneumata] of definite Apostles; (2) a book which contained the acts and preaching of all the Apostles, which historically legitimised Paul, and at the same time gave hints for the explanation of "difficult" passages in his Epistle; (3) the Pauline Epistles increased by the compilation of the Pastoral ones, documents which "in ordinatione ecclesiasticæ disciplinæ sanctificatæ erant." The Acts of the Apostles is thus the key to the understanding of the Catholic canon and at the same time shows its novelty. In this book the new collection had its bond of cohesion, its Catholic element (apostolic tradition), and the guide for its exposition. That the Acts of the Apostles found its place in the canon _faute de mieux_ is clear from the extravagant terms, not at all suited to the book, in which its appearance there is immediately hailed. It is inserted in place of a book which should have contained the teaching and missionary acts of all the 12 Apostles; but, as it happened, such a record was not in existence. The first evidence regarding it is found in the Muratorian fragment and in Irenæus and Tertullian. There it is called "acta omnium apostolorum sub uno libro scripta sunt, etc." Irenæus says (III. 14. 1): "Lucas non solum prosecutor sed et cooperarius fuit _Apostolorum_, maxime autem Pauli," and makes use of the book to prove the subordination of Paul to the twelve. In the celebrated passages, de præscr. 22, 23: adv. Marc. I. 20; IV. 2-5; V. 1-3, Tertullian made a still more extensive use of the Acts of the Apostles, as the Antimarcionite book in the canon. One can see here why it was admitted into that collection and used against Paul as the Apostle of the heretics. The fundamental thought of Tertullian is that no one who fails to recognise the Acts of the Apostles has any right to recognise Paul, and that to elevate him by himself into a position of authority is unhistorical and absolutely unfounded fanaticism. If the [Greek: didachê tôn dôdeka apostolôn] was needed as an authority in the earlier time, a _book_ which contained that authority was required in the later period; and nothing else could be found than the work of the so-called Luke. "Qui Acta Apostolorum non recipiunt, nec spiritus sancti esse possunt, qui necdum spiritum sanctum possunt agnoscere discentibus missum, sed nec ecclesiam se dicant defendere qui quando et quibus incunabulis institutum est hoc corpus probare non habent." But the greater part of the heretics remained obstinate. Neither Marcionites, Severians, nor the later Manicheans recognised the Acts of the Apostles. To some extent they replied by setting up other histories of Apostles in opposition to it, as was done later by a fraction of the Ebionites and even by the Marcionites. But the Church also was firm. It is perhaps the most striking phenomenon in the history of the formation of the canon that this late book, from the very moment of its appearance, asserts its right to a place in the collection, just as certainly as the four Gospels, though its position varied. In Clement of Alexandria indeed the book is still pretty much in the background, perhaps on a level with the [Greek: kêrugma Petrou], but Clement has no New Testament at all in the strict sense of the word; see below. But at the very beginning the book stood where it is to-day, i.e., immediately after the Gospels (see Muratorian Fragment, Irenæus, etc.). The parallel creation, the group of Catholic Epistles, acquired a much more dubious position than the Acts of the Apostles, and its place was never really settled. Its germ is probably to be found in two Epistles of John (viz., 1st and 3rd) which acquired dignity along with the Gospel, as well as in the Epistle of Jude. These may have given the impulse to create a group of narratives about the twelve Apostles from anonymous writings of old Apostles, prophets, and teachers. But the Epistle of Peter is still wanting in the Muratorian Fragment, nor do we yet find the group there associated with the Acts of the Apostles. The Epistle of Jude, two Epistles of John, the Wisdom of Solomon, the Apocalypse of John and that of Peter form the unsymmetrical conclusion of this oldest catalogue of the canon. But, all the same writings, by Jude, John, and Peter are here found side by side; thus we have a preparation for the future arrangement made in different though similar fashion by Irenæus and again altered by Tertullian. The genuine Pauline Epistles appear enclosed on the one hand by the Acts of the Apostles and the Catholic Epistles, and on the other by the Pastoral ones, which in their way are also "Catholic." That is the character of the "Catholic" New Testament which is confirmed by the earliest use of it (in Irenæus and Tertullian). In speaking above of the Acts of the Apostles as a late book, we meant that it was so relatively to the canon. In itself the book is old and for the most part reliable.] [Footnote 95: There is no doubt that this was the reason why to all appearance the innovation was scarcely felt. Similar causes were at work here as in the case of the apostolic rule of faith. In the one case the writings that had long been read in the Church formed the basis, in the other the baptismal confession. But a great distinction is found in the fact that the baptismal confession, as already settled, afforded an elastic standard which was treated as a fixed one and was therefore extremely practical; whilst, conversely, the undefined group of writings hitherto read in the Church was reduced to a collection which could neither be increased nor diminished.] [Footnote 96: At the beginning, that is about 180, it was only in practice, and not in theory, that the Gospels and the Pauline Epistles possessed equal authority. Moreover, the name New Testament is not yet found in Irenæus, nor do we yet find him giving an exact idea of its content. See Werner in the Text. u. Unters. z. altchristl. Lit. Gesch. Bd. VI. 2.] [Footnote 97: See above, p. 40, note 2.] [Footnote 98: We have ample evidence in the great work of Irenæus as to the difficulties he found in many passages of the Pauline Epistles, which as yet were almost solely utilised as sources of doctrine by such men as Marcion, Tatian, and theologians of the school of Valentinus. The difficulties of course still continued to be felt in the period which followed. (See, e.g., Method, Conviv. Orat. III. 1, 2.)] [Footnote 99: Apollinaris of Hierapolis already regards any contradiction between the (4) Gospels as impossible. (See Routh, Reliq. Sacr. I. p. 150.)] [Footnote 100: See Overbeck, "Ueber die Auffassung des Streites des Paulus mit Petrus in Antiochien bei den Kirchenvätern," 1877, p. 8.] [Footnote 101: See also Clement Strom. IV. 21. 124; VI. 15. 125. The expression is also frequent in Origen, e.g., de princip. præf. 4.] [Footnote 102: The Roman Church in her letter to that of Corinth designates her own words as the words of God (1 Clem. LIX. 1) and therefore requires obedience "[Greek: tois huph' hêmôn gegrammenois dia tou hagiou pneumatos]" (LXIII. 2).] [Footnote 103: Tertull. de exhort. 4: "Spiritum quidem dei etiam fideles habent, sed non omnes fideles apostoli ... Proprie enim apostoli spiritum sanctum habent, qui plene habent in operibus prophetiæ et efficacia virtutum documentisque linguarum, non ex parte, quod ceteri." Clem. Alex. Strom. IV. 21. 135: [Greek: Hekastos idion echei charisma apo theou, ho men houtôs, ho de houtôs, hoi apostoloi de en pasi peplêromenoi]; Serapion in Euseb., H. E. VI. 12. 3: [Greek: hêmeis kai ton Petron kai tous allous apostolous apodechometha hôs Christon]. The success of the canon here referred to was an undoubted blessing, for, as the result of enthusiasm, Christianity was menaced with complete corruption, and things and ideas, no matter how alien to its spirit, were able to obtain a lodgment under its protection. The removal of this danger, which was in some measure averted by the canon, was indeed coupled with great disadvantages, inasmuch as believers were referred in legal fashion to a new book, and the writings contained in it were at first completely obscured by the assumption that they were inspired and by the requirement of an "expositio legitima."] [Footnote 104: See Tertull., de virg. vol. 4, de resurr. 24, de ieiun. 15, de pudic. 12. Sufficiency is above all included in the concept "inspiration" (see for ex. Tertull., de monog. 4: "Negat scriptura quod non notat"), and the same measure of authority belongs to all parts (see Iren., IV. 28. 3. "Nihil vacuum neque sine signo apud deum").] [Footnote 105: The direct designation "prophets" was, however, as a rule, avoided. The conflict with Montanism made it expedient to refrain from this name; but see Tertullian, adv. Marc. IV. 24: "Tam apostolus Moyses, quam et apostoli prophetæ."] [Footnote 106: Compare also what the author of the Muratorian Fragment says in the passage about the Shepherd of Hermas.] [Footnote 107: This caused the most decisive breach with tradition, and the estimate to be formed of the Apocalypses must at first have remained an open question. Their fate was long undecided in the West; but it was very soon settled that they could have no claim to public recognition in the Church, because their authors had not that fulness of the Spirit which belongs to the Apostles alone.] [Footnote 108: The disputed question as to whether all the acknowledged apostolic writings were regarded as canonical must be answered in the affirmative in reference to Irenæus and Tertullian, who conversely regarded no book as canonical unless written by the Apostles. On the other hand, it appears to me that no certain opinion on this point can be got from the Muratorian Fragment. In the end the Gospel, Acts, Kerygma, and Apocalypse of Peter as well as the Acts of Paul were rejected, a proceeding which was at the same time a declaration that they were spurious. But these three witnesses agree (see also App. Constit. VI. 16) that the apostolic _regula fidei_ is practically the final court of appeal, inasmuch as it decides whether a writing is really apostolic or not, and inasmuch as, according to Tertullian, the apostolic writings belong to the Church alone, because she alone possesses the apostolic _regula_ (de præscr. 37 ff.). The _regula_ of course does not legitimise those writings, but only proves that they are authentic and do not belong to the heretics. These witnesses also agree that a Christian writing has no claim to be received into the canon merely on account of its prophetic form. On looking at the matter more closely, we see that the view of the early Church, as opposed to Montanism, led to the paradox that the Apostles were prophets in the sense of being inspired by the Spirit, but that they were not so in the strict sense of the word.] [Footnote 109: The fragment of Serapion's letter given in Eusebius owes its interest to the fact that it not only shows the progress made at this time with the formation of the canon at Antioch, but also what still remained to be done.] [Footnote 110: See my essay "Theophilus v. Antiochien und das N. T." in the Ztschr. f. K. Gesch. XI. p. 1 ff.] [Footnote 111: The most important passages are Autol. II. 9. 22: [Greek: hothen didaskousin hêmas hai hagiai graphai kai pantes hoi pneumatophoroi, ex hôn Iôannaes legei k.t.l.] (follows John I. 1) III. 12: [Greek: kai peri dikaiosunês, hês ho nomos eirêken, akoloutha heurisketai kai ta tôn prophêtôn kai tôn euangeliôn echein, dia to tous pantas pneumatophorous heni pneumati theou lelalêkenai]; III. 13: [Greek: ho hagios logos--hê euangelios phônê].; III. 14: [Greek: Êsaias--to de euangelion--ho theios logos]. The latter formula is not a quotation of Epistles of Paul viewed as canonical, but of a divine command found in the Old Testament and given in Pauline form. It is specially worthy of note that the original of the six books of the Apostolic Constitutions, written in Syria and belonging to the second half of the third century, knows yet of no New Testament. In addition to the Old Testament it has no authority but the "Gospel."] [Footnote 112: There has as yet been no sufficient investigation of the New Testament of Clement. The information given by Volkmar in Credner's Gesch. d. N. Tlichen Kanon, p. 382 ff., is not sufficient. The space at the disposal of this manual prevents me from establishing the results of my studies on this point. Let me at least refer to some important passages which I have collected. Strom. I. §§ 28, 100; II. §§ 22, 28, 29; III.,§§ 11, 66, 70, 71, 76, 93, 108; IV. §§ 2, 91, 97, 105, 130, 133, 134, 138, 159; V. §§ 3, 17, 27, 28, 30, 31, 38, 80, 85, 86; VI. §§ 42,44, 54, 59, 61, 66--68, 88, 91, 106, 107, 119, 124, 125, 127, 128, 133, 161, 164; VII. §§ 1, 14, 34, 76, 82, 84, 88, 94, 95, 97, 100, 101, 103, 104, 106, 107. As to the estimate of the Epistles of Barnabas and Clement of Rome as well as of the Shepherd, in Clement, see the Prolegg. to my edition of the Opp. Patr. Apost.] [Footnote 113: According to Strom. V. 14. 138 even the Epicurean Metrodorus uttered certain words [Greek: entheôs]; but on the other hand Homer was a prophet against his will. See Pæd. I. 6. 36, also § 51.] [Footnote 114: In the Pæd. the Gospels are regularly called [Greek: hê graphê] but this is seldom the case with the Epistles. The word "Apostle" is used in quoting these.] [Footnote 115: It is also very interesting to note that Clement almost nowhere illustrates the parabolic character of the Holy Scriptures by quoting the Epistles, but in this connection employs the Old Testament and the Gospels, just as he almost never allegorises passages from other writings. 1 Cor. III. 2 is once quoted thus in Pæd. I. 6. 49: [Greek: to en tô apostolô hagion pneuma tê tou kuriou apochrômenon phônê legei]. We can hardly conclude from Pæd. I. 7. 61 that Clement called Paul a "prophet."] [Footnote 116: It is worthy of special note that Clem., Pæd. II. 10.3; Strom. II. 15. 67 has criticised an interpretation given by the author of the Epistle of Barnabas, although he calls Barnabas an Apostle.] [Footnote 117: In this category we may also include the Acts of the Apostles, which is perhaps used like the [Greek: kêrugma]. It is quoted in Pæd. II. 16. 56; Strom. I. 50, 89, 91, 92, 153, 154; III. 49; IV. 97; V. 75, 82; VI. 63, 101, 124, 165.] [Footnote 118: The "seventy disciples" were also regarded as Apostles, and the authors of writings the names of which did not otherwise offer a guarantee of authority were likewise included in this category. That is to say, writings which were regarded as valuable and which for some reason or other could not be characterised as apostolic in the narrower sense were attributed to authors whom there was no reason for denying to be Apostles in the wider sense. This wider use of the concept "apostolic" is moreover no innovation. See my edition of the Didache, pp. 111-118.] [Footnote 119: The formation of the canon in Alexandria must have had some connection with the same process in Asia Minor and in Rome. This is shown not only by each Church recognising four Gospels, but still more by the admission of thirteen Pauline Epistles. We would see our way more clearly here, if anything certain could be ascertained from the works of Clement, including the Hypotyposes, as to the arrangement of the Holy Scriptures; but the attempt to fix this arrangement is necessarily a dubious one, because Clement's "canon of the New Testament" was not yet finally fixed. It may be compared to a half-finished statue whose bust is already completely chiselled, while the under parts are still embedded in the stone.] [Footnote 120: No greater creative act can be mentioned in the whole history of the Church than the formation of the apostolic collection and the assigning to it of a position of equal rank with the Old Testament.] [Footnote 121: The history of early Christian writings in the Church which were not definitely admitted into the New Testament is instructive on this point. The fate of some of these may be described as tragical. Even when they were not branded as downright forgeries, the writings of the Fathers from the fourth century downwards were far preferred to them.] [Footnote 122: See on this point Overbeck "Abhandlung über die Anfange der patristischen Litteratur," l.c., p. 469. Nevertheless, even after the creation of the New Testament canon, theological authorship was an undertaking which was at first regarded as highly dangerous. See the Antimontanist in Euseb., H. E. V. 16. 3: [Greek: dediôs kai exeulaboumenos, mê pê doxô prin episungraphein ê epidiatassesthai tô tês tou euangeliou kainês diathêkês logô]. We find similar remarks in other old Catholic Fathers (see Clemen. Alex.).] [Footnote 123: But how diverse were the expositions; compare the exegesis of Origen and Tertullian, Scorp. II.] [Footnote 124: On the extent to which the Old Testament had become subordinated to the New and the Prophets to the Apostles, since the end of the second century, see the following passage from Novatian, de trinit. 29: "Unus ergo et idem spiritus qui in prophetis et apostolis, nisi quoniam ibi ad momentum, hic semper. Ceterum ibi non ut semper in illis inesset, hic ut in illis semper maneret, et ibi mediocriter distributus, hic totus effusus, ibi parce datus, hic large commodatus."] [Footnote 125: That may be shown in all the old Catholic Fathers, but most plainly perhaps in the theology of Origen. Moreover, the subordination of the Old Testament revelation to the Christian one is not simply a result of the creation of the New Testament, but may be explained by other causes; see chap. 5. If the New Testament had not been formed, the Church would perhaps have obtained a Christian Old Testament with numerous interpolations--tendencies in this direction were not wanting: see vol. I, p. 114 f.--and increased in extent by the admission of apocalypses. The creation of the New Testament preserved the purity of the Old, for it removed the need of doing violence to the latter in the interests of Christianity.] [Footnote 126: The Catholic Church had from the beginning a very clear consciousness of the dangerousness of many New Testament writings, in fact she made a virtue of necessity in so far as she set up a theory to prove the unavoidableness of this danger. See Tertullian, de præscr. passim, and de resurr. 63.] [Footnote 127: To a certain extent the New Testament disturbs and prevents the tendency to summarise the faith and reduce it to its most essential content. For it not only puts itself in the place of the unity of a system, but frequently also in the place of a harmonious and complete creed. Hence the rule of faith is necessary as a guiding principle, and even an imperfect one is better than a mere haphazard reliance upon the Bible.] [Footnote 128: We must not, however, ascribe that to conscious mistrust, for Irenæus and Tertullian bear very decided testimony against such an idea, but to the acknowledgment that it was impossible to make any effective use of the New Testament Scriptures in arguments with educated non-Christians and heretics. For these writings could carry no weight with the former, and the latter either did not recognise them or else interpreted them by different rules. Even the offer of several of the Fathers to refute the Marcionites from their own canon must by no means be attributed to an uncertainty on their part with regard to the authority of the ecclesiastical canon of Scripture. We need merely add that the extraordinary difficulty originally felt by Christians in conceiving the Pauline Epistles, for instance, to be analogous and equal in value to Genesis or the prophets occasionally appears in the terminology even in the third century, in so far as the term "divine writings" continues to be more frequently applied to the Old Testament than to certain parts of the New.] [Footnote 129: Tertullian, in de corona 3, makes his Catholic opponent say: "Etiam in traditionis obtentu exigenda est auctoritas scripta."] [Footnote 130: Hatch, Organisation of the early Christian Church, 1883. Harnack, Die Lehre der zwölf Apostel, 1884. Sohm, Kirchenrecht, Vol. I. 1892.] [Footnote 131: Marcion was the only one who did not claim to prove his Christianity from traditions inasmuch as he rather put it in opposition to tradition. This disclaimer of Marcion is in keeping with his renunciation of apologetic proof, whilst, conversely, in the Church the apologetic proof, and the proof from tradition adduced against the heretics, were closely related. In the one case the truth of Christianity was proved by showing that it is the oldest religion, and in the other the truth of ecclesiastical Christianity was established from the thesis that it is the oldest Christianity, viz., that of the Apostles.] [Footnote 132: See Tertullian, de præscr. 20, 21, 32.] [Footnote 133: This theory is maintained by Irenæus and Tertullian, and is as old as the association of the [Greek: hagia ekklêsia] and the [Greek: pneuma hagion]. Just for that reason the distinction they make between Churches founded by the Apostles and those of later origin is of chief value to themselves in their arguments against heretics. This distinction, it may be remarked, is clearly expressed in Tertullian alone. Here, for example, it is of importance that the Church of Carthage derives its "authority" from that of Rome (de præscr. 36).] [Footnote 134: Tertull., de præscr. 32 (see p. 19). Iren., III. 2. 2: "Cum autem ad eam iterum traditionem, quæ est ab apostolis, quæ per successiones presbyterorum in ecclesiis custoditur, provocamus eos, etc." III. 3. 1: "Traditionem itaque apostolorum in toto mundo manifestatam in omni ecclesia adest perspicere omnibus qui vera velint videre, et habemus annumerare eos, qui ab apostolis instituti sunt episcopi in ecclesiis et successiones eorum usque ad nos ... valde enim perfectos in omnibus eos volebant esse, quos et successores relinquebant, suum ipsorum locum magisterii tradentes ... traditio Romanæ ecclesiæ, quam habet ab apostolis, et annuntiata hominibus fides per successiones episcoporum perveniens usque ad nos." III. 3. 4, 4. 1: "Si de aliqua modica qusestione disceptatio esset, nonne oporteret in antiquissimas recurrere ecclesias, in quibus apostoli conversati sunt ... quid autem si neque apostoli quidem scripturas reliquissent nobis, nonne oportebat ordinem sequi traditionis, quam tradiderunt iis, quibus committebant ecclesias?" IV. 33. 8: "Character corporis Christi secundum successiones episcoporum, quibus apostoli eam quæ in unoquoque loco est ecclesiam tradiderunt, quæ pervenit usque ad nos, etc." V. 20.1: "Omnes enim ii valde posteriores sunt quam episcopi, quibus apostoli tradiderunt ecclesias." IV. 26. 2: "Quapropter eis, qui in ecclesia sunt, presbyteris obaudire oportet, his qui successionem habent ab apostolis; qui cum episcopatus successione charisma veritatis certum secundum placitum patris acceperunt." IV. 26. 5: "Ubi igitur charismata domini posita sunt, ibi discere oportet veritatem, apud quos est ea quæ est ab apostolis ecclesiæ successio." The declaration in Luke X. 16 was already applied by Irenæus (III. præf.) to the successors of the Apostles.] [Footnote 135: For details on this point see my edition of the Didache, Proleg., p. 140. As the _regula fidei_ has its preparatory stages in the baptismal confession, and the New Testament in the collection of writings read in the Churches, so the theory that the bishops receive and guarantee the apostolic heritage of truth has its preparatory stage in the old idea that God has bestowed on the Church Apostles, prophets, and teachers, who always communicate his word in its full purity. The functions of these persons devolved by historical development upon the bishop; but at the same time it became more and more a settled conviction that no one in this latter period could be compared with the Apostles. The only true Christianity, however, was that which was apostolic and which could prove itself to be so. The natural result of the problem which thus arose was the theory of an objective transference of the _charisma veritatis_ from the Apostles to the bishops. This notion preserved the unique personal importance of the Apostles, guaranteed the apostolicity, that is, the truth of the Church's faith, and formed a dogmatic justification for the authority already attained by the bishops. The old idea that God bestows his Spirit on the Church, which is therefore the holy Church, was ever more and more transformed into the new notion that the bishops receive this Spirit, and that it appears in their official authority. The theory of a succession of prophets, which can be proved to have existed in Asia Minor, never got beyond a rudimentary form and speedily disappeared.] [Footnote 136: This theory must have been current in the Roman Church before the time when Irenæus wrote; for the list of Roman bishops, which we find in Irenæus and which he obtained from Rome, must itself be considered as a result of that dogmatic theory. The first half of the list must have been concocted, as there were no monarchical bishops in the strict sense in the first century (see my treatise: "Die ältesten christlichen Datirungen und die Anfänge einer bischoflichen Chronographie in Rom." in the report of the proceedings of the Royal Prussian Academy of Science, 1892, p. 617 ff). We do not know whether such lists were drawn up so early in the other churches of apostolic origin (Jerusalem?). Not till the beginning of the 3rd century have we proofs of that being done, whereas the Roman community, as early as Soter's time, had a list of bishops giving the duration of each episcopate. Nor is there any evidence before the 3rd century of an attempt to invent such a list for Churches possessing no claim to have been founded by Apostles.] [Footnote 137: We do not yet find this assertion in Tertullian's treatise "de præscr."] [Footnote 138: Special importance attaches to Tertullian's treatise "de pudicitia," which has not been sufficiently utilised to explain the development of the episcopate and the pretensions at that time set up by the Roman bishop. It shows clearly that Calixtus claimed for himself as bishop the powers and rights of the Apostles in their full extent, and that Tertullian did not deny that the "doctrina apostolorum" was inherent in his office, but merely questioned the "potestas apostolorum." It is very significant that Tertullian (c. 21) sneeringly addressed him as "apostolice" and reminded him that "ecclesia spiritus, non ecclesia numerus episcoporum." What rights Calixtus had already claimed as belonging to the apostolic office may be ascertained from Hippol. Philos. IX. 11. 12. But the introduction to the Philosophoumena proves that Hippolytus himself was at one with his opponent in supposing that the bishops, as successors of the Apostles, had received the attributes of the latter: [Greek: Tas haireseis heteros ouk elegxei, ê to en ekklêsia paradothen hagion pneuma, ou tuchontes proteroi hoi apostoloi metedosan tois orthôs pepisteukosin hôn hêmeis diadochoi tugchanontes tês te autês charitos metechontes archierateias te kai didaskalias kai phrouroi tês ekklêsias lelogismenoi ouk ophthalmô nustazomen, oude logon orthon siôpômen, k.t.l.] In these words we have an immense advance beyond the conception of Irenæus. This advance, of course, was first made in practice, and the corresponding theory followed. How greatly the prestige and power of the bishops had increased in the first 3rd part of the 3rd century may be seen by comparing the edict of Maximinus Thrax with the earlier ones (Euseb., H. E. VI. 28; see also the genuine Martyr. Jacobi, Mariani, etc., in Numidia c. 10 [Ruinart, Acta mart. p. 272 edit. Ratisb.]): "Nam ita inter se nostræ religionis gradus artifex sævitia diviserat, ut laicos clericis separatos tentationibus sæculi et terroribus suis putaret esse cessuros" (that is, the heathen authorities also knew that the clergy formed the bond of union in the Churches). But the theory that the bishops were successors of the Apostles, that is, possessed the apostolic office, must be considered a Western one which was very slowly and gradually adopted in the East. Even in the original of the first six books of the Apostolic Constitutions, composed about the end of the 3rd century, which represents the bishop as mediator, king, and teacher of the community, the episcopal office is not yet regarded as the apostolic one. It is rather presbyters, as in Ignatius, who are classed with the Apostles. It is very important to note that the whole theory of the significance of the bishop in determining the truth of ecclesiastical Christianity is completely unknown to Clement of Alexandria. As we have not the slightest evidence that his conception of the Church was of a hierarchical and anti-heretical type, so he very rarely mentions the ecclesiastical officials in his works and rarest of all the bishops. These do not at all belong to his conception of the Church, or at least only in so far as they resemble the English orders (cf. Pæd. III. 12. 97, presbyters, bishops, deacons, widows; Strom. VII. 1. 3; III. 12. 90, presbyters, deacons, laity; VI. 13. 106, presbyters, deacons: VI. 13. 107, bishops, presbyters, deacons: Quis dives 42, bishops and presbyters). On the other hand, according to Clement, the true Gnostic has an office like that of the Apostles. See Strom. VI. 13. 106, 107: [Greek: exestin oun kai nun tais kyriakais enaskêsantas entolais kata to euangelion teleiôs biôsantas kai gnôstikôs eis tên eklogên tôn apostolôn engraphênai houtos presbuteros esti tô onti tês ekklêsias kai diakonos alêthês tês tou theou boulêseôs]. Here we see plainly that the servants of the earthly Church, as such, have nothing to do with the true Church and the heavenly hierarchy. Strom VII. 9, 52 says: the true Gnostic is the mediator with God. In Strom. VI. 14. 108; VII. 12. 77 we find the words: [Greek: ho gnôstikos houtos sunelonti eipein tên apostolikên apousian antanaplêroi, k.t.l.] Clement could not have expressed himself in this way if the office of bishop had at that time been as much esteemed in the Alexandrian Church, of which he was a presbyter, as it was at Rome and in other Churches of the West (see Bigg l.c. 101). According to Clement the Gnostic as a teacher has the same significance as is possessed by the bishop in the West; and according to him we may speak of a natural succession of teachers. Origen in the main still held the same view as his predecessor. But numerous passages in his works and above all his own history shew that in his day the episcopate had become stronger in Alexandria also, and had begun to claim the same attributes and rights as in the West (see besides de princip. præf. 2: "servetur ecclesiastica prædicatio per successionis ordinem ab apostolis tradita et usque ad præsens in ecclesiis permanens: illa sola credenda est veritas, quæ in nullo ab ecclesiastica et apostolica discordat traditione"--so in Rufinus, and in IV. 2. 2: [Greek: tou kanonos tês Iêsou Christou kata diadochên t. apostolôn ouraniou ekklêsias]). The state of things here is therefore exactly the same as in the case of the apostolic _regula fidei_ and the apostolic canon of scripture. Clement still represents an earlier stage, whereas by Origen's time the revolution has been completed. Wherever this was so, the theory that the monarchical episcopate was based on apostolic institution was the natural result. This idea led to the assumption--which, however, was not an immediate consequence in all cases--that the apostolic office, and therefore the authority of Jesus Christ himself, was continued in the episcopate: "Manifesta est sententia Iesu Christi apostolos suos mittentis et ipsis solis potestatem a patre sibi datam permittentis, quibus nos successimus eadem potestatex ecclesiam domini gubernantes et credentium fidem baptizantes" (Hartel, Opp. Cypr. I. 459).] [Footnote 139: See Rothe, Die Anfänge der christlichen Kirche und ihrer Verfassung, 1837. Köstlin, Die Katholische Auffassung von der Kirche in ihrer ersten Ausbildung in the Deutsche Zeitschrift für christliche Wissenschaft und christliches Leben, 1855. Ritschl, Entstehung der altkatholischen Kirche, 2nd ed., 1857. Ziegler, Des Irenäus Lehre von der Autorität der Schrift, der Tradition und der Kirche, 1868. Hackenschmidt, Die Anfänge des katholischen Kirchenbegriffs, 1874. Hatch-Harnack, Die Gesellschaftsverfassung der christlichen Kirche im Alterthum, 1883. Seeberg, Zur Geschichte des Begriffs der Kirche, Dorpat, 1884. Söder, Der Begriff der Katholicität der Kirche und des Glaubens, 1881. O. Ritschl, Cyprian von Karthago und die Verfassung der Kirche, 1885. (This contains the special literature treating of Cyprian's conception of the Church). Sohm, l.c.] [Footnote 140: See Hatch, l.c. pp. 191, 253.] [Footnote 141: See vol. I. p. 150 f. Special note should be given to the teachings in the Shepherd, in the 2nd Epistle of Clement and in the [Greek: Didachê].] [Footnote 142: This notion lies at the basis of the exhortations of Ignatius. He knows nothing of an empirical union of the different communities into one Church guaranteed by any law or office. The bishop is of importance only for the individual community, and has nothing to do with the essence of the Church; nor does Ignatius view the separate communities as united in any other way than by faith, charity, and hope. Christ, the invisible Bishop, and the Church are inseparably connected (ad Ephes. V. 1; as well as 2nd Clem. XIV.), and that is ultimately the same idea, as is expressed in the associating of [Greek: pneuma] and [Greek: ekklêsia]. But every individual community is an image of the heavenly Church, or at least ought to be.] [Footnote 143: The expression "Catholic Church" appears first in Ignatius (ad Smyrn. VIII. 2): [Greek: hopou an phanêi ho episkopos, ekei to plêthos esto; hôsper hopou an ê Christos Iêsous, ekei hê katholikê ekklêsia]. But in this passage these words do not yet express a new conception of the Church, which represents her as an empirical commonwealth. Only the individual earthly communities exist empirically, and the universal, i.e., the whole Church, occupies the same position towards these as the bishops of the individual communities do towards the Lord. The epithet "[Greek: katholikos]" does not of itself imply any secularisation of the idea of the Church.] [Footnote 144: The expression "invisible Church" is liable to be misunderstood here, because it is apt to impress us as a mere idea, which is certainly not the meaning attached to it in the earliest period.] [Footnote 145: It was thus regarded by Hegesippus in whom the expression "[Greek: hê henôsis tês ekklêsias]" is first found. In his view the [Greek: ekklêsia] is founded on the [Greek: orthos logos] transmitted by the Apostles. The innovation does not consist in the emphasis laid upon faith, for the unity of faith was always supposed to be guaranteed by the possession of the one Spirit and the same hope, but in the setting up of a formulated creed, which resulted in a loosening of the connection between faith and conduct. The transition to the new conception of the Church was therefore a gradual one. The way is very plainly prepared for it in 1 Tim. III. 15: [Greek: oikos theou ekklêsia, stulos kai hedraiôma tês alêtheias].] [Footnote 146: The oldest predicate which was given to the Church and which was always associated with it, was that of _holiness_. See the New Testament; Barn. XIV. 6; Hermas, Vis. I. 3, 4; I. 6; the Roman symbol; Dial. 119; Ignat. ad Trail, inscr.; Theophil. ad Autol., II. 14 (here we have even the plural, "holy churches"); Apollon. in Euseb, H. E. V. 18. 5; Tertull., adv. Marc. IV. 13; V. 4; de pudicit. 1; Mart. Polyc inscr.; Alexander Hieros. in Euseb., H. E. VI. 11. 5; Clemens Alex.; Cornelius in Euseb., VI. 43. 6; Cyprian. But the holiness (purity) of the Church was already referred by Hegesippus (Euseb., H. E. IV. 22. 4) to its pure doctrine: [Greek: ekaloun tên ekklêsian parthenon; oupô gar ephtharto akoais mataiais]. The unity of the Church according to Hegesippus is specially emphasised in the Muratorian Fragment (line 55): see also Hermas; Justin; Irenæus; Tertullian, de præscr. 20; Clem. Alex., Strom. VII. 17. 107. Even before Irenæus and Tertullian the _universality_ of the Church was emphasised for apologetic purposes. In so far as universality is a proof of truth, "universal" is equivalent to "orthodox." This signification is specially clear in expressions like: [Greek: hê en Smurnê katholikê ekklêsia] (Mart. Polyc. XVI. 2). From Irenæus, III. 15, 2, we must conclude that the Valentinians called their ecclesiastical opponents "Catholics." The word itself is not yet found in Irenæus, but the idea is there (see I. 10. 2; II. 9. 1, etc., Serapion in Euseb., H.E. V. 19: [Greek: pasa hê en kosmô adelphotês]). [Greek: Katholikos] is found as a designation of the orthodox, visible Church in Mart. Polyc. inscr.: [Greek: hai kata panta topon tês hagias katholikês ekklêsias paroikiai]; 19. 2; 16. 2 (in all these passages, however, it is probably an interpolation, as I have shown in the "Expositor" for Dec. 1885, p. 410 f); in the Muratorian Fragment 61, 66, 69; in the anonymous writer in Euseb., H. E. V. 16. 9. in Tertull. frequently, e.g., de præscr. 26, 30; adv. Marc. III. 22: IV. 4; in Clem. Alex., Strom. VII. 17. 106, 107; in Hippol. Philos. IX. 12; in Mart. Pionii 2, 9, 13, 19; in Cornelius in Cypr., epp. 49. 2; and in Cyprian. The expression "catholica traditio" occurs in Tertull., de monog. 2, "fides catholica" in Cyprian ep. 25, "[Greek: kanôn katholikos]" in the Mart. Polyc. rec. Mosq. fin. and Cypr. ep. 70. 1, "catholica fides et religio" in the Mart. Pionii 18. In the earlier Christian literature the word [Greek: katholikos] occurs in various connections in the following passages: in fragments of the Peratae (Philos. V. 16), and in Herakleon, e.g. in Clement, Strom. IV. 9. 71; in Justin, Dial., 81, 102; Athenag., 27; Theophil. I. 13; Pseudojustin, de monarch. 1, ([Greek: kathol. doxa]); Iren., III. 11, 8; Apollon. in Euseb., H. E. IV. 18 5, Tertull., de fuga 3; adv. Marc. II. 17; IV. 9; Clement, Strom, IV. 15. 97; VI. 6. 47; 7. 57; 8. 67. The addition "catholicam" found its way into the symbols of the West only at a comparatively late period. The earlier expressions for the whole of Christendom are [Greek: pasai hai ekklêsiai, ekklêsiai kata pasan polin, ekklêsiai en kosmô, hai huph' ouranou], etc.] [Footnote 147: Very significant is Tertullian's expression in adv. Val. 4: "Valentinus de ecclesia authenticæ regulæ abrupit," (but probably this still refers specially to the Roman Church).] [Footnote 148: Tertullian called the Church _mother_ (in Gal. IV. 26 the heavenly Jerusalem is called "mother"); see de oral. 2: "ne mater quidem ecclesia pixeterhur," de monog. 7; adv. Marc. V. 4 (the author of the letter in Euseb., H. E. V. 2. 7, 1. 45, had already done this before him). In the African Church the symbol was thus worded soon after Tertullian's time: "credis in remissionem peccatorum et vitam æsternam per sanctam ecclesiam" (see Hahn, Bibliothek der Symbole, 2nd ed. p. 29 ff.) On the other hand Clement of Alexandria (Strom. VI. 16. 146) rejected the designation of the Church, as "mother": [Greek: mêtêr de ouch, hôs tines ekdedôkasin, hê ekklêsia, all' hê theia gnôsis kai hê sophia] (there is a different idea in Pæd. I. 5. 21. and 6. 42: [Greek: mêtêr parthenos; ekklêsian emoi philon autên kalein]). In the Acta Justini c. 4 the faith is named "mother."] [Footnote 149: Hippol. Philos. IX. 12 p. 460.] [Footnote 150: The phraseology of Irenæus is very instructive here. As a rule he still speaks of Churches (in the plural) when he means the empirical Church. It is already otherwise with Tertullian, though even with him the old custom still lingers.] [Footnote 151: The most important passages bearing on this are II. 31. 3: III. 24. 1 (see the whole section, but especially: "in ecclesia posuit deus universam operationem spiritus; cuius non sunt participes omnes qui non concurrunt ad ecclesiam ... ubi enim ecclesia, ibi et spiritus dei, et ubi spiritus dei, illic ecclesia et omnis gratia"); III.11. 8: [Greek: stulos kai stêrigma ekklêsias to euangelion kai pneuma zôês]: IV. 8. 1: "semen Abrahæ ecclesia", IV. 8. 3: "omnes iusti sacerdotalem habent ordinem;" IV. 36. 2: "ubique præclara est ecclesia; ubique enim sunt qui suscipiunt spiritum;" IV. 33. 7: [Greek: ekklêsia mega kai endoxon sôma tou Christou]; IV. 26. 1 sq.: V. 20. 1.: V. 32.: V. 34. 3., "Levitae et sacerdotes sunt discipuli omnes domini."] [Footnote 152: Hence the repudiation of all those who separate themselves from the Catholic Church (III. 11. 9; 24. 1: IV. 26. 2; 33. 7).] [Footnote 153: On IV. 33. 7 see Seeberg, l.c., p. 20, who has correctly punctuated the passage, but has weakened its force. The fact that Irenæus was here able to cite the "antiquus ecclesiæ status in universo mundo et character corporis Christi secundum successiones episcoporum," etc., as a second and independent item alongside of the apostolic doctrine is, however, a proof that the transition from the idea of the Church, as a community united by a common faith, to that of a hierarchical institution was already revealing itself in his writings.] [Footnote 154: The Church as a communion of the same faith, that is of the same doctrine, is spoken of in de præscr. 20; de virg. vol. 2. On the other hand we find the ideal spiritual conception in de bapt. 6: "ubi tres, id est pater et filius et spiritus sanctus, ibi ecclesia, quæ trium corpus est;" 8: "columba s. spiritus advolat, pacem dei adferens, emissa de coelis, ubi ecclesia est arca figurata;" 15: "unus deus et unum baptismum et una ecclesia in coelis;" de pænit. 10: "in uno et altero ecclesia est, ecclesia vero Christus;" de orat. 28: "nos sumus veri adoratores et veri sacerdotes, qui spiritu orantes spiritu sacrificamus;" Apolog. 39; de exhort. 7: "differentiam inter ordinem et plebem constituit ecclesiæ auctoritas et honor per ordinis consessum sanctificatus. Adeo ubi ecclesiastici ordinis non est consessus, et offers et tinguis et sacerdos es tibi solus. Sed ubi tres, ecclesia est, licet laici" (the same idea, only not so definitely expressed, is already found in de bapt. 17); de monog. 7: "nos autem Iesus summus sacerdos sacerdotes deo patri suo fecit ... vivit unicus pater noster deus et mater ecclesia, ... certe sacerdotes sumus a Christo vocati;" 12; de pudic. 21: "nam et ipsa ecclesia proprie et principaliter ipse est spiritus, in quo est trinitas unius divinitatis, pater et filius et spiritus sanctus. Illam ecclesiam congregat quam dominus in tribus posuit. Atque ita exinde etiam numerus omnis qui in hanc fidem conspiraverint ecclesia ab auctore et consecratore censetur. Et ideo ecclesia quidem delicta donabit, sed ecclesia spiritus per spiritalem hominem, non ecclesia numerus episcoporum;" de anima 11, 21. Contradictions in detail need not surprise us in Tertullian, since his whole position as a Catholic and as a Montanist is contradictory.] [Footnote 155: The notion that the true Gnostic can attain the same position as the Apostles also preserved Clement from thrusting the ideal conception of the Church into the background.] [Footnote 156: Some very significant remarks are found in Clement about the Church which is the object of faith. See Pæd. I. 5. 18, 21; 6. 27: [Greek: hôs gar thelêma tou Theou ergon esti kai touto kosmos onomazetai, houtô kai to boulêma autou anthrôpôn esti sôtêria, kai touto ekklêsia keklêtai]--here an idea which Hermas had in his mind (see Vol. I., p. 180. note 4) is pregnantly and excellently expressed. Strom. II. 12. 55; IV. 8. 66: [Greek: eikôn tês ouraniou ekklêsias hê epigeios, dioper euchometha kai epi gês genesthai to thelêma tou Theou hôs en ouranô]; IV. 26. 172: [Greek: hê ekklêsia hupo logou apoliorkêtos aturannêtos polis epi gês, thelêma theion epi gês, hôs en ouranô]; VI. 13. 106, 107; VI. 14. 108: [Greek: hê anôtatô ekklêsia, kath' hên hoi philosophoi sunagontai tou Theou]; VII. 5. 29: [Greek: pôs ou kurios tên eis timên tou Theou kat' epignôsin hagian genomenên ekklêsian hieron an eipoimen Theou to pollou axion ... ou gar nun ton topon, alla to athroisma tôn eklektôn ekklêsian kalô]; VII. 6. 32; VII. 11. 68: [Greek: hê pneumatikê ekklêsia]. The empirical conception of the Church is most clearly formulated in VII. 17. 107; we may draw special attention to the following sentences: [Greek: phaneron oimai gegenêsthai mian einai tên alêthê ekklêsian tên tôi onti archaian, eis hên hoi kata prothesin dikaioi egkatalegontai, henos gar ontos tou Theou kai henos tou kuriou ... tê goun tou henos phusei sunklêrountai ekklêsia hê mia, hên eis pollas katatemnein biazontai haireseis].] [Footnote 157: It may, however, be noted that the old eschatological aim has fallen into the background in Clement's conception of the Church.] [Footnote 158: A significance of this kind is suggested by the notion that the orders in the earthly Church correspond to those in the heavenly one; but this idea, which afterwards became so important in the East, was turned to no further account by Clement. In his view the "Gnostics" are the highest stage in the Church. See Bigg, l.c., p. 100.] [Footnote 159: De princip. IV. 2, 2: [Greek: hê ouranios ekklêsia]; Hom. IX. in Exod. c. 3: "ecclesia credentium plebs;" Hom. XI. in Lev. c. 5; Hom. VI. in Lev. c. 5; ibid. Hom. IX.: "omni ecclesiæ dei et credentium populo sacerdotium datum.": T. XIV. in Mt. c. 17: c. Cels. VI. 48: VI. 79; Hom. VII. in Lk.; and de orat. 31 a twofold Church is distinguished ([Greek: hôste einai epi tôn hagiôn sunathroizomenôn diplên ekklêsian tên men anthrôpôn, tên de angelôn]). Nevertheless Origen does not assume two Churches, but, like Clement, holds that there is only one, part of which is already in a state of perfection and part still on earth. But it is worthy of note that the ideas of the heavenly hierarchy are already more developed in Origen (de princip. I. 7). He adopted the old speculation about the origin of the Church (see Papias, fragm. 6; 2 Clem. XIV.). Socrates (H. E. III. 7) reports that Origen, in the 9th vol. of his commentary on Genesis, compared Christ with Adam and Eve with the Church, and remarks that Pamphilus' apology for Origen stated that this allegory was not new: [Greek: ou prôton Ôrigenên epi tautên tên pragmateian elthein phasin, alla tên tês ekklêsias mustikên hermêneusai paradosin]. A great many more of these speculations are to be found in the 3rd century. See, e.g., _the Acts of Peter and Paul_ 29.] [Footnote 160: De princip. IV. 2. 2; Hom. III. in Jesu N. 5: "nemo tibi persuadeat, nemo semetipsum decipiat: extra ecclesiam nemo salvatur." The reference is to the Catholic Church which Origen also calls [Greek: to holon sôma tôn sunagôgôn tês ekklêsias.]] [Footnote 161: Hermas (Sim. I.) has spoken of the "city of God" (see also pseudo-Cyprian's tractate "de pascha computus"); but for him it lies in Heaven and is the complete contrast of the world. The idea of Plato here referred to is to be found in his _Republic_.] [Footnote 162: See c. Cels. VIII. 68-75.] [Footnote 163: Comment. in Joh. VI. 38.] [Footnote 164: Accordingly he often speaks in a depreciatory way of the [Greek: ochlos tês ekklêsias] (the ignorant) without accusing them of being unchristian (this is very frequent in the books c. Cels., but is also found elsewhere).] [Footnote 165: Origen, who is Augustine's equal in other respects also, and who anticipated many of the problems considered by the latter, anticipated prophetically this Father's view of the City of God--of course as a hope (c. Cels. viii. 68 f). The Church is also viewed as [Greek: to kata Theon politeuma] in Euseb., H. E. V. Præf. § 4, and at an earlier period in Clement.] [Footnote 166: This was not done even by Origen, for in his great work "de principiis" we find no section devoted to the Church.] [Footnote 167: It is frequently represented in Protestant writers that the mistake consisted in this identification, whereas, if we once admit this criticism, the defect is rather to be found in the development itself which took place in the Church, that is, in its secularisation. No one thought of the desperate idea of an invisible Church; this notion would probably have brought about a lapse from pure Christianity far more rapidly than the idea of the Holy Catholic Church.] [Footnote 168: Both repeatedly and very decidedly declared that the unity of faith (the rule of faith) is sufficient for the unity of the Church, and that in other things there must be freedom (see above all Tertull., de orat., de bapt., and the Montanist writings). It is all the more worthy of note that, in the case of a question in which indeed the customs of the different countries were exceedingly productive of confusion, but which was certainly not a matter of faith, it was again a bishop of Rome, and that as far back as the 2nd century, who first made the observance of the Roman practice a condition of the unity of the Church and treated nonconformists as heterodox (Victor; see Euseb., H. E. V. 24). On the other hand Irenæus says: [Greek: hê diaphônia tês nêsteias tên homonoian tês pisteôs sunistêsi].] [Footnote 169: On Calixtus see Hippolyt., Philos. IX. I2; and Tertull., de pudic.] [Footnote 170: See on the other hand Tertull., de monog., but also Hippol., l.c.] [Footnote 171: Cyprian's idea of the Church, an imitation of the conception of a political empire, viz., one great aristocratically governed state with an ideal head, is the result of the conflicts through which he passed. It is therefore first found in a complete form in the treatise "de unitate ecclesiæ" and, above all, in his later epistles (Epp. 43 sq. ed. Hartel). The passages in which Cyprian defines the Church as "constituta in episcopo et in clero et in omnibus credentibus" date from an earlier period, when he himself essentially retained the old idea of the subject. Moreover, he never regarded those elements as similar and of equal value. The limitation of the Church to the community ruled by bishops was the result of the Novatian crisis. The unavoidable necessity of excluding orthodox Christians from the ecclesiastical communion, or, in other words, the fact that such orthodox Christians had separated themselves from the majority guided by the bishops, led to the setting up of a new theory of the Church, which therefore resulted from stress of circumstances just as much as the antignostic conception of the matter held by Irenæus. Cyprian's notion of the relation between the whole body of the Church and the episcopate may, however, be also understood as a generalisation of the old theory about the connection between the individual community and the bishop. This already contained an oecumenical element, for, in fact, every separate community was regarded as a copy of the one Church, and its bishop therefore as the representative of God (Christ).] [Footnote 172: We need only quote one passage here--but see also epp. 69. 3, 7 sq.: 70. 2: 73. 8--ep. 55. 24: "Quod vero ad Novatiani personam pertinet, scias nos primo in loco nec curiosos esse debere quid ille doceat, cum foris doceat; quisquis ille est et qualiscunque est, christianus non est, qui in Christi ecclesia non est." In the famous sentence (ep. 74. 7; de unit. 6): "habere non potest deum patrem qui ecclesiam non habet matrem," we must understand the Church held together by the _sacramentum unitatis_, i.e., by her constitution. Cyprian is fond of referring to Korah's faction, who nevertheless held the same faith as Moses.] [Footnote 173: Epp. 4. 4: 33. 1: "ecclesia super episcopos constituta;" 43. 5: 45. 3: "unitatem a domino et per apostolos nobis successoribus traditam;" 46. 1: 66. 8: "scire debes episcopum in ecclesia esse et ecclesiam in episcopo et si qui cum episcopo non sit in ecclesia non esse;" de unit. 4.] [Footnote 174: According to Cyprian the bishops are the _sacerdotes_ [Greek: kat' eksochên] and the _iudices vice Christi_. See epp. 59. 5: 66. 3 as well as c. 4: "Christus dicit ad apostolos ac per hoc ad omnes præpositos, qui apostolis vicaria ordinatione succedunt: qui audit vos me audit." Ep. 3. 3: "dominus apostolos, i.e., episcopos elegit"; ep. 75. 16.] [Footnote 175: That is a fundamental idea and in fact the outstanding feature of the treatise "de unitate." The heretics and schismatics lack love, whereas the unity of the Church is the product of love, this being the main Christian virtue. That is the _ideal_ thought on which Cyprian builds his theory (see also epp. 45. 1: 55. 24: 69. 1 and elsewhere), and not quite wrongly, in so far as his purpose was to gather and preserve, and not scatter. The reader may also recall the early Christian notion that Christendom should be a band of brethren ruled by love. But this love ceases to have any application to the case of those who are disobedient to the authority of the bishop and to Christians of the sterner sort. The appeal which Catholicism makes to love, even at the present day, in order to justify its secularised and tyrannical Church, turns in the mouth of hierarchical politicians into hypocrisy, of which one would like to acquit a man of Cyprian's stamp.] [Footnote 176: Ep. 43. 5: 55. 24: "episcopatus unus episcoporum multorum concordi numerositate diffusus;" de unit. 5: "episcopatus unus est, cuius a singulis in solidum pars tenetur." Strictly speaking Cyprian did not set up a theory that the bishops were directed by the Holy Spirit, but in identifying Apostles and bishops and asserting the divine appointment of the latter he took for granted their special endowment with the Holy Spirit. Moreover, he himself frequently appealed to special communications he had received from the Spirit as aids in discharging his official duties.] [Footnote 177: Cyprian did not yet regard uniformity of Church practice as a matter of moment--or rather he knew that diversities must be tolerated. In so far as the _concordia episcoporum_ was consistent with this diversity, he did not interfere with the differences, provided the _regula fidei_ was adhered to. Every bishop who adheres to the confederation has the greatest freedom even in questions of Church discipline and practice (as for instance in the baptismal ceremonial); see ep. 59. 14: "Singulis pastoribus portio gregis est adscripta, quam regit unusquisque et gubernat rationem sui actus domino redditurus;" 55. 21: "Et quidem apud antecessores nostros quidam de episcopis istic in provincia nostra dandam pacis moechis non putaverunt et in totum pænitentiæ locum contra adulteria cluserunt, non tamen a co-episcoporum suorum collegio recesserunt aut catholicæ ecclesiæ unitatem ruperunt, ut quia apud alios adulteris pax dabatur, qui non dabat de ecclesia separaretur." According to ep. 57. 5 Catholic bishops, who insist on the strict practice of penance, but do not separate themselves from the unity of the Church, are left to the judgment of God. It is different in the case referred to in ep. 68, for Marcion had formally joined Novatian. Even in the disputed question of heretical baptism (ep. 72. 3) Cyprian declares to Stephen (See 69. 17: 73. 26; _Sententiæ episc._, præfat.): "qua in re nec nos vim cuiquam facimus aut legem damus, quando habeat in ecclesiæ administratione voluntatis suæ arbitrium liberum unusquisque præpositus, rationem actus sui domino redditurus." It is therefore plain wherein the unity of the episcopate and the Church actually consists; we may say that it is found in the _regula_, in the fixed purpose not to give up the unity in spite of all differences, and in the principle of regulating all the affairs of the Church "ad originem dominicam et ad evangelicam adque apostolicam traditionem" (ep. 74. 10). This refers to the New Testament, which Cyprian emphatically insisted on making the standard for the Church. It must be taken as the guide, "si in aliquo in ecclesia nutaverit et vacillaverit veritas;" by it, moreover, all false customs are to be corrected. In the controversy about heretical baptism, the alteration of Church practice in Carthage and Africa, which was the point in question--for whilst in Asia heretical baptism had for a very long time been declared invalid (see ep. 75. 19) this had only been the case in Carthage for a few years--was justified by Cyprian through an appeal to _veritas_ in contrast to _consuetudo sine veritate_. See epp. 71. 2, 3: 73. 13, 23: 74. 2 sq.: 9 (the formula originates with Tertullian; see de virg. vel. 1-3). The _veritas_, however, is to be learned from the Gospel and words of the Apostles: "Lex evangelii," "præcepta dominica," and synonymous expressions are very frequent in Cyprian, more frequent than reference to the _regula_ or to the symbol. In fact there was still no Church dogmatic, there being only principles of Christian faith and life, which, however, were taken from the Holy Scriptures and the _regula_.] [Footnote 178: Cyprian no longer makes any distinction between Churches founded by Apostles, and those which arose later (that is, between their bishops).] [Footnote 179: The statement that the Church is "super Petrum fundata" is very frequently made by Cyprian (we find it already in Tertullian, de monog.); see de habitu virg. 10; Epp. 59. 7: 66. 8: 71. 3: 74. 11: 73. 7. But on the strength of Matth. XVI. he went still farther; see ep. 43. 5: "deus unus est et Christus unus et una ecclesia et cathedra una super Petrum domini voce fundata;" ep. 48. 3 (ad Cornel.): "communicatio tua, id est catholicæ ecclesiæ unitas pariter et caritas;" de unit. 4: "superunum ædificat ecclesiam, et quamvis apostolis omnibus post resurrectionem suam parem potestatem tribuat, tamen ut unitatem manifestaret, unitatis eiusdem originem ab uno incipientem sua auctoritate disposuit;" ep. 70. 3: "una ecclesia a Christo domino nostro super Petrum origine unitatis et ratione fundata" ("with regard to the origin and constitution of the unity" is the translation of this last passage in the "Stimmen aus Maria Laach," 1877, part 8, p. 355; but "ratio" cannot mean that); ep. 73. 7; "Petro primum dominus, super quem ædificavit ecclesiam et unde unitatis originem instituit et ostendit, potestatem istam dedit." The most emphatic passages are ep. 48. 3, where the Roman Church is called "matrix et radix ecclesiæ catholicæ" (the expression "radix et mater" in ep. 45. I no doubt also refers to her), and ep. 59. 14: "navigare audent et ad Petri cathedram atque ad ecclesiam principalem, unde unitas sacerdotalis exorta est, ab schismaticis et profanis litteras ferre nec cogitare eos esse Romanes, quorum fides apostolo prædicante laudata est (see epp. 30. 2, 3: 60. 2), ad quos perfidia habere non possit accessum." We can see most clearly from epp. 67. 5 and 68 what rights were in point of fact exercised by the bishop of Rome. But the same Cyprian says quite naively, even at the time when he exalted the Roman cathedra so highly (ep. 52. 2), "quoniam _pro magnitudine sua_ debeat Carthaginem Roma præcedere." In the controversy about heretical baptism Stephen like Calixtus (Tertull., de pudic. 1) designated himself, on the ground of the _successio Petri_ and by reference to Matth. XVI., in such a way that one might suppose he wished to be regarded as "episcopus episcoporum" (Sentent. episc. in Hartel I., p. 436). He expressly claimed a primacy and demanded obedience from the "ecclesiæ novellæ et posteræ" (ep. 71. 3). Like Victor he endeavoured to enforce the Roman practice "tyrannico terrore" and insisted that the _unitas ecclesiæ_ required the observance of this Church's practice in all communities. But Cyprian opposed him in the most decided fashion, and maintained the principle that every bishop, as a member of the episcopal confederation based on the _regula_ and the Holy Scriptures, is responsible for his practice to God alone. This he did in a way which left no room for any special and actual authority of the Roman see alongside of the others. Besides, he expressly rejected the conclusions drawn by Stephen from the admittedly historical position of the Roman see (ep. 71. 3): "Petrus non sibi vindicavit aliquid insolenter aut adroganter adsumpsit, ut diceret se principatum tenere et obtemperari a novellis et posteris sibi potius oportere." Firmilian, ep. 75, went much farther still, for he indirectly declares the _successio Petri_ claimed by Stephen to be of no importance (c. 17), and flatly denies that the Roman Church has preserved the apostolic tradition in a specially faithful way. See Otto Ritschl, l.c., pp. 92 ff., 110-141. In his conflict with Stephen Cyprian unmistakably took up a position inconsistent with his former views as to the significance of the Roman see for the Church, though no doubt these were ideas he had expressed at a critical time when he stood shoulder to shoulder with the Roman bishop Cornelius.] [Footnote 180: See specially epp. 65, 67, 68.] [Footnote 181: Hatch l.c., p. 189 f.] [Footnote 182: The gradual union of the provincial communities into one Church may be studied in a very interesting way in the ecclesiastical Fasti (records, martyrologies, calendars, etc.), though these studies are as yet only in an incipient stage. See De Rossi, Roma Sotter, the Bollandists in the 12th vol. for October; Stevenson, Studi in Italia (1879), pp. 439, 458; the works of Nilles; Egli, Altchristl. Studien 1887 (Theol. Lit. Ztg. 1887, no. 13): Duchesne, Les sources du Martyrol. Hieron. Rome 1885, but above all the latter's study: Mémoire sur l'origine des diocèses épiscopaux dans l'ancienne Gaule, 1890. The history of the unification of liturgies from the 4th century should also be studied.] [Footnote 183: There were communities in the latter half of the 3rd century, which can be proved to have been outside the confederation, although in perfect harmony with it in point of belief (see the interesting case in Euseb., H. E. VII. 24. 6). Conversely, there were Churches in the confederation whose faith did not in all respects correspond with the Catholic _regula_ as already expounded. But the fact that it was not the dogmatic system, but the practical constitution and principles of the Church, as based on a still elastic creed, which formed the ultimate determining factor, was undoubtedly a great gain; for a system of dogmatics developed beyond the limits of the Christian _kerygma_ can only separate. Here, however, all differences of faith had of couise to be glossed over, for the demand of Apelles: [Greek: mê dein holôs exetazein ton logon, all' ekaston. hôs pepisteuke, diamenein sôthêsesthai gar tous epi ton hestaurômenon êlpikotas, k.t.l.], was naturally regarded as inadmissible.] [Footnote 184: Hence we need not be surprised to find that the notion of heresy which arose in the Church was immediately coupled with an estimate of it, which for injustice and harshness could not possibly be surpassed in succeeding times. The best definition is in Tertull., de præscr. 6: "Nobis nihil ex nostro arbitrio indulgere licet, sed nec eligere quod aliquis de arbitrio suo induxerit. Apostolos domini habemus auctores, qui nec ipsi quicquam ex suo arbitrio quod inducerent elegerunt, sed acceptam a Christo disciplinam fideliter nationibus assignaverunt."] [Footnote 185: See Vol. I., p. 224, note 1.] [Footnote 186: We already find this idea in Tertullian; see de bapt. 15: "Hæretici nullum habent consortium nostra discipline, quos extraneos utique testatur ipsa ademptio communicationis. Non debeo in illis cognoscere, quod mihi est præceptum, quia non idem deus est nobis et illis, nec unus Christus, id est idem, ideoque nec baptismus unus, quia non idem; quem cum rite non habeant, sine dubio non habent, nec capit numerari, quod non habetur; ita nec possunt accipere quia non habent." Cyprian passed the same judgment on all schismatics, even on the Novatians, and like Tertullian maintained the invalidity of heretical baptism. This question agitated the Church as early as the end of the 2nd century, when Tertullian already wrote against it in Greek.] [Footnote 187: As far as possible the Christian virtues of the heretics were described as hypocrisy and love of ostentation (see e.g., Rhodon in Euseb., H. E. V. 13. 2 and others in the second century). If this view was untenable, then all morality and heroism among heretics were simply declared to be of no value. See the anonymous writer in Eusebius, H. E. V. 16. 21, 22; Clem, Strom. VII. 16. 95; Orig., Comm. ad Rom. I. X., c. 5; Cypr., de unit. 14, 15; cp. 73. 21 etc.] [Footnote 188: Tertull., de præscr. 3-6.] [Footnote 189: Irenæus definitely distinguishes between heretics and schismatics (III. 11. 9: IV. 26. 2; 33. 7), but also blames the latter very severely, "qui gloriosum corpus Christi, quantum in ipsis est, interficiunt, non habentes dei dilectionem suamque utilitatem potius considerantes quam unitatem ecclesiæ." Note the parallel with Cyprian. Yet he does not class them with those "qui sunt extra veritatem," i.e., "extra ecclesiam," although he declares the severest penalties await them. Tertullian was completely preserved by his Montanism from identifying heretics and schismatics, though in the last years of his life he also appears to have denied the Christianity of the Catholics (?).] [Footnote 190: Read, on the one hand, the Antimontanists in Eusebius and the later opponents of Montanism; and on the other, Tertull., adv. Prax.; Hippol., c. Noët; Novatian, de trinitate. Even in the case of the Novatians heresies were sought and found (see Dionys. Alex., in Euseb., H. E. VII. 8, where we find distortions and wicked misinterpretations of Novatian doctrines, and many later opponents). Nay, even Cyprian himself did not disdain to join in this proceeding (see epp. 69. 7: 70. 2). The Montanists at Rome were placed by Hippolylus in the catalogue of heretics (see the Syntagma and Philosoph.). Origen was uncertain whether to reckon them among schismatics or heretics (see in Tit. Opp. IV., p. 696).] [Footnote 191: Cyprian plainly asserts (ep. 3. 3): "hæc sunt initia hæreticorum et ortus adque conatus schismaticorum, ut præpositum superbo tumore contemnant" (as to the early history of this conception, which undoubtedly has a basis of truth, see Clem., ep. ad Cor. 1. 44; Ignat.; Hegesippus in Euseb., H. E. IV. 22. 5; Tertull., adv. Valent. 4; de bapt. 17; Anonymus in Euseb; H. E. V. 16. 7; Hippolyt. ad. Epiphan. H. 42. 1; Anonymus in Eusebius, H. E. V. 28. 12; according to Cyprian it is quite the common one); see further ep. 59. 3: "neque enim aliunde hæreses obortæ sunt aut nata sunt schismata, quam quando sacerdoti dei non obtemperatur;" epp. 66. 5: 69. 1: "item b. apostolus Johannes nec ipse ullam hæresin aut schisma discrevit aut aliquos speciatim separes posuit"; 52. 1: 73. 2: 74. 11. Schism and heresy are always identical.] [Footnote 192: Neither Optatus nor Augustine take Cyprian's theory as the starting-point of their disquisitions, but they adhere in principle to the distinction between heretic and schismatic. Cyprian was compelled by his special circumstances to identify them, but he united this identification with the greatest liberality of view as to the conditions of ecclesiastical unity (as regards individual bishops). Cyprian did not make a single new article an "articulus stantis et cadentis ecclesiæ." In fact he ultimately declared--and this may have cost him struggle enough--that even the question of the validity of heretical baptism was not a question of faith.] CHAPTER III. CONTINUATION. THE OLD CHRISTIANITY AND THE NEW CHURCH. 1. The legal and political forms by which the Church secured herself against the secular power and heresy, and still more the lower moral standard exacted from her members in consequence of the naturalisation of Christianity in the world, called forth a reaction soon after the middle of the second century. This movement, which first began in Asia Minor and then spread into other regions of Christendom, aimed at preserving or restoring the old feelings and conditions, and preventing Christendom from being secularised. This crisis (the so called Montanist struggle) and the kindred one which succeeded produced the following results: The Church merely regarded herself all the more strictly as a legal community basing the truth of its title on its historic and objective foundations, and gave a correspondingly new interpretation to the attribute of holiness she claimed. She expressly recognised two distinct classes in her midst, a spiritual and a secular, as well as a double standard of morality. Moreover, she renounced her character as the communion of those who were sure of salvation, and substituted the claim to be an educational institution and a necessary condition of redemption. After a keen struggle, in which the New Testament did excellent service to the bishops, the Church expelled the Cataphrygian fanatics and the adherents of the new prophecy (between 180 and 220); and in the same way, during the course of the third century, she caused the secession of all those Christians who made the truth of the Church depend on a stricter administration of moral discipline. Hence, apart from the heretic and Montanist sects, there existed in the Empire, after the middle of the second century, two great but numerically unequal Church confederations, both based on the same rule of faith and claiming the title "ecclesia catholica," viz., the confederation which Constantine afterwards chose for his support, and the Novatian Catharist one. In Rome, however, the beginning of the great disruption goes back to the time of Hippolytus and Calixtus; yet the schism of Novatian must not be considered as an immediate continuation of that of Hippolytus. 2. The so-called Montanist reaction[193] was itself subjected to a similar change, in accordance with the advancing ecclesiastical development of Christendom. It was originally the violent undertaking of a Christian prophet, Montanus, who, supported by prophetesses, felt called upon to realise the promises held forth in the Fourth Gospel. He explained these by the Apocalypse, and declared that he himself was the Paraclete whom Christ had promised--that Paraclete in whom Jesus Christ himself, nay, even God the Father Almighty, comes to his own to guide them to all truth, to gather those that are dispersed, and to bring them into one flock. His main effort therefore was to make Christians give up the local and civil relations in which they lived, to collect them, and create a new undivided Christian commonwealth, which, separated from the world, should prepare itself for the descent of the Jerusalem from above.[194] The natural resistance offered to the new prophets with this extravagant message--especially by the leaders of communities, and the persecutions to which the Church was soon after subjected under Marcus Aurelius, led to an intensifying of the eschatological expectations that beyond doubt had been specially keen in Montanist circles from the beginning. For the New Jerusalem was soon to come down from heaven in visible form, and establish itself in the spot which, by direction of the Spirit, had been chosen for Christendom in Phrygia.[195] Whatever amount of peculiarity the movement lost, in so far as the ideal of an assembly of all Christians proved incapable of being realised or at least only possible within narrow limits, was abundantly restored in the last decades of the second century by the strength and courage that the news of its spread in Christendom gave to the earnest minded to unite and offer resistance to the ever increasing tendency of the Church to assume a secular and political character. Many entire communities in Phrygia and Asia recognised the divine mission of the prophets. In the Churches of other provinces religious societies were formed in which the predictions of these prophets were circulated and viewed as a Gospel, though at the same time they lost their effect by being so treated. The confessors at Lyons openly expressed their full sympathy with the movement in Asia. The bishop of Rome was on the verge of acknowledging the Montanists to be in full communion with the Church. But among themselves there was no longer, as at the beginning, any question of a new organisation in the strict sense of the word, and of a radical remodelling of Christian society.[196] Whenever Montanism comes before us in the clear light of history it rather appears as a religious movement already deadened, though still very powerful. Montanus and his prophetesses had set no limits to their enthusiasm; nor were there as yet any fixed barriers in Christendom that could have restrained them.[197] The Spirit, the Son, nay, the Father himself had appeared in them and spoke through them.[198] Imagination pictured Christ bodily in female form to the eyes of Prisca.[199] The most extravagant promises were given.[200] These prophets spoke in a loftier tone than any Apostle ever did, and they were even bold enough to overturn apostolic regulations.[201] They set up new commandments for the Christian life, regardless of any tradition,[202] and they inveighed against the main body of Christendom.[203] They not only proclaimed themselves as prophets, but as the last prophets, as notable prophets in whom was first fulfilled the promise of the sending of the Paraclete.[204] These Christians as yet knew nothing of the "absoluteness of a historically complete revelation of Christ as the fundamental condition of Christian consciousness;" they only felt a Spirit to which they yielded unconditionally and without reserve. But, after they had quitted the scene, their followers sought and found a kind of compromise. The Montanist congregations that sought for recognition in Rome, whose part was taken by the Gallic confessors, and whose principles gained a footing in North Africa, may have stood in the same relation to the original adherents of the new prophets and to these prophets themselves, as the Mennonite communities did to the primitive Anabaptists and their empire in Münster. The "Montanists" outside of Asia Minor acknowledged to the fullest extent the legal position of the great Church. They declared their adherence to the apostolic "regula" and the New Testament canon.[205] The organisation of the Churches, and, above all, the position of the bishops as successors of the Apostles and guardians of doctrine were no longer disputed. The distinction between them and the main body of Christendom, from which they were unwilling to secede, was their belief in the new prophecy of Montanus, Prisca, and Maximilla, which was contained, in its final form, in written records and in this shape may have produced the same impression as is excited by the fragments of an exploded bomb.[206] In this new prophecy they recognised a _subsequent revelation_ of God, which for that very reason assumed the existence of a previous one. This after-revelation professed to decide the practical questions which, at the end of the second century, were burning topics throughout all Christendom, and for which no direct divine law could hitherto be adduced, in the form of a strict injunction. Herein lay the importance of the new prophecy for its adherents in the Empire, and for this reason they believed in it.[207] The belief in the efficacy of the Paraclete, who, in order to establish a relatively stricter standard of conduct in Christendom during the latter days, had, a few decades before, for several years given his revelations in a remote corner of the Empire, was the dregs of the original enthusiasm, the real aspect of which had been known only to the fewest. But the diluted form in which this force remained was still a mighty power, because it was just in the generation between 190 and 220 that the secularising of the Church had made the greatest strides. Though the followers of the new prophecy merely insisted on abstinence from second marriage, on stricter regulations with regard to fasts, on a stronger manifestation of the Christian spirit in daily life, in morals and customs, and finally on the full resolve not to avoid suffering and martyrdom for Christ's name's sake, but to bear them willingly and joyfully,[208] yet, under the given circumstances, these requirements, in spite of the express repudiation of everything "Encratite,"[209] implied a demand that directly endangered the conquests already made by the Church and impeded the progress of the new propaganda.[210] The people who put forth these demands, expressly based them on the injunctions of the Paraclete, and really lived in accordance with them, were not permanently capable of maintaining their position in the Church. In fact, the endeavour to found these demands on the legislation of the Paraclete was an undertaking quite as strange, in form and content, as the possible attempt to represent the wild utterances of determined anarchists as the programme of a constitutional government. It was of no avail that they appealed to the confirmation of the rule of faith by the Paraclete; that they demonstrated the harmlessness of the new prophecy, thereby involving themselves in contradictions;[211] that they showed all honour to the New Testament; and that they did not insist on the oracles of the Paraclete being inserted in it.[212] As soon as they proved the earnestness of their temperate but far-reaching demands, a deep gulf that neither side could ignore opened up between them and their opponents. Though here and there an earnest effort was made to avoid a schism, yet in a short time this became unavoidable; for variations in rules of conduct make fellowship impossible. The lax Christians, who, on the strength of their objective possession, viz., the apostolic doctrine and writings, sought to live comfortably by conforming to the ways of the world, necessarily sought to rid themselves of inconvenient societies and inconvenient monitors;[213] and they could only do so by reproaching the latter with heresy and unchristian assumptions. Moreover, the followers of the new prophets could not permanently recognise the Churches of the "Psychical,"[214] which rejected the "Spirit" and extended their toleration so far as to retain even whoremongers and adulterers within their pale. In the East, that is, in Asia Minor, the breach between the Montanists and the Church had in all probability broken out before the question of Church discipline and the right of the bishops had yet been clearly raised. In Rome and Carthage this question completed the rupture that had already taken place between the conventicles and the Church (de pudic. 1. 21). Here, by a peremptory edict, the bishop of Rome claimed the right of forgiving sins as successor of the Apostles; and declared that he would henceforth exercise this right in favour of repentant adulterers. Among the Montanists this claim was violently contested both in an abstract sense and in this application of it. The Spirit the Apostles had received, they said, could not be transmitted; the Spirit is given to the Church; he works in the prophets, but lastly and in the highest measure in the new prophets. The latter, however, expressly refused to readmit gross sinners, though recommending them to the grace of God (see the saying of the Paraclete, de pud. 21; "potest ecclesia donare delictum, sed non faciam"). Thus agreement was no longer possible. The bishops were determined to assert the existing claims of the Church, even at the cost of her Christian character, or to represent the constitution of the Catholic Church as the guarantee of that character. At the risk of their own claim to be Catholic, the Montanist sects resisted in order to preserve the minimum legal requirements for a Christian life. Thus the opposition culminated in an attack on the new powers claimed by the bishops, and in consequence awakened old memories as to the original state of things, when the clergy had possessed no importance.[215] But the ultimate motive was the effort to stop the continuous secularising of the Christian life and to preserve the virginity of the Church as a holy community.[216] In his latest writings Tertullian vigorously defended a position already lost, and carried with him to the grave the old strictness of conduct insisted on by the Church. Had victory remained with the stricter party, which, though not invariably, appealed to the injunctions of the Paraclete,[217] the Church would have been rent asunder and decimated. The great opportunist party, however, was in a very difficult position, since their opponents merely seemed to be acting up to a conception that, in many respects, could not be theoretically disputed. The problem was how to carry on with caution the work of naturalising Christianity in the world, and at the same time avoid all appearance of innovation which, as such, was opposed to the principle of Catholicism. The bishops therefore assailed the form of the new prophecy on the ground of innovation;[218] they sought to throw suspicion on its content; in some cases even Chiliasm, as represented by the Montanists, was declared to have a Jewish and fleshly character.[219] They tried to show that the moral demands of their opponents were extravagant, that they savoured of the ceremonial law (of the Jews), were opposed to Scripture, and were derived from the worship of Apis, Isis, and the mother of the Gods.[220] To the claim of furnishing the Church with authentic oracles of God, set up by their antagonists, the bishops opposed the newly formed canon; and declared that everything binding on Christians was contained in the utterances of the Old Testament prophets and the Apostles. Finally, they began to distinguish between the standard of morality incumbent on the clergy and a different one applying to the laity,[221] as, for instance, in the question of a single marriage; and they dwelt with increased emphasis on the glory of the heroic Christians, _belonging to the great Church_, who had distinguished themselves by asceticism and joyful submission to martyrdom. By these methods they brought into disrepute that which had once been dear to the whole Church, but was now of no further service. In repudiating supposed abuses they more and more weakened the regard felt for the thing itself, as, for example, in the case of the so-called Chiliasm,[222] congregational prophecy and the spiritual independence of the laity. But none of these things could be absolutely rejected; hence, for example, Chiliasm remained virtually unweakened (though subject to limitations[223]) in the West and certain districts of the East; whereas prophecy lost its force so much that it appeared harmless and therefore died away.[224] However, the most effective means of legitimising the present state of things in the Church was a circumstance closely connected with the formation of a canon of early Christian writings, viz., the distinction of an _epoch of revelation_, along with a corresponding classical period of Christianity unattainable by later generations. This period was connected with the present by means of the New Testament and the apostolic office of the bishops. This later time was to regard the older period as an ideal, but might not dream of really attaining the same perfection, except at least through the medium of the Holy Scriptures and the apostolic office, that is, the Church. The place of the holy Christendom that had the Spirit in its midst was taken by the ecclesiastic institution possessing the "instrument of divine literature" ("instrumentum divinæ litteraturæ") and the spiritual office. Finally, we must mention another factor that hastened the various changes; this was the theology of the Christian philosophers, which attained importance in the Church as soon as she based her claim on and satisfied her conscience with an objective possession. 3. But there was one rule which specially impeded the naturalisation of the Church in the world and the transformation of a communion of the saved into an institution for obtaining salvation, viz., the regulation that excluded gross sinners from Christian membership. Down to the beginning of the third century, in so far as the backslider did not atone for his guilt[225] by public confession before the authorities (see Ep. Lugd. in Euseb., H. E. V. 1 ff.), final exclusion from the Church was still the penalty of relapse into idolatry, adultery, whoredom, and murder; though at the same time the forgiveness of God in the next world was reserved for the fallen provided they remained penitent to the end. In _theory_ indeed this rule was not very old. For the oldest period possessed no theories; and in those days Christians frequently broke through what might have been counted as one by appealing to the Spirit, who, by special announcements--particularly by the mouth of martyrs and prophets--commanded or sanctioned the readmission of lapsed members of the community (see Hermas).[226] Still, the rule corresponded to the ancient notions that Christendom is a communion of saints, that there is no ceremony _invariably_ capable of replacing baptism, that is, possessing the same value, and that God alone can forgive sins. The practice must on the whole have agreed with this rule; but in the course of the latter half of the second century it became an established custom, in the case of a first relapse, to allow atonement to be made once for most sins and perhaps indeed for all, on condition of public confession.[227] For this, appeal was probably made to Hermas, who very likely owed his prestige to the service he here unwittingly rendered. We say "unwittingly," for he could scarcely have intended such an application of his precepts, though at bottom it was not directly opposed to his attitude. In point of fact, however, this practice introduced something closely approximating to a second baptism. Tertullian indeed (de pænit. 12) speaks unhesitatingly of _two_ planks of salvation.[228] Moreover, if we consider that in any particular case the decision as to the deadly nature of the sin in question was frequently attended with great difficulty, and certainly, as a rule, was not arrived at with rigorous exactness, we cannot fail to see that, in conceding a second expiation, the Church was beginning to abandon the old idea that Christendom was a community of saints. Nevertheless the fixed practice of refusing whoremongers, adulterers, murderers, and idolaters readmission to the Church, in ordinary cases, prevented men from forgetting that there was a boundary line dividing her from the world. This state of matters continued till about 220.[229] In reality the rule was first infringed by the peremptory edict of bishop Calixtus, who, in order to avoid breaking up his community, granted readmission to those who had fallen into sins of the flesh. Moreover, he claimed this power of readmission as a right appertaining to the bishops as successors of the Apostles, that is, as possessors of the Spirit and the power of the keys.[230] At Rome this rescript led to the secession headed by Hippolytus. But, between 220 and 250, the milder practice with regard to the sins of the flesh became prevalent, though it was not yet universally accepted. This, however, resulted in no further schism (Cyp., ep. 55. 21). But up to the year 250 no concessions were allowed in the case of relapse into idolatry.[231] These were first occasioned by the Decian persecution, since in many towns those who had abjured Christianity were more numerous than those who adhered to it.[232] The majority of the bishops, part of them with hesitation, agreed on new principles.[233] To begin with, permission was given to absolve repentant apostates on their deathbed. Next, a distinction was made between _sacrificati_ and _libellatici_, the latter being more mildly treated. Finally, the possibility of readmission was conceded under certain severe conditions to all the lapsed, a casuistic proceeding was adopted in regard to the laity, and strict measures--though this was not the universal rule--were only adopted towards the clergy. In consequence of this innovation, which logically resulted in the gradual cessation of the belief that there can be only one repentance after baptism--an assumption that was untenable in principle--Novatian's schism took place and speedily rent the Church in twain. But, even in cases where unity was maintained, many communities observed the stricter practice down to the fifth century.[234] What made it difficult to introduce this change by regular legislation was the authority to forgive sins in God's stead, ascribed in primitive times to the inspired, and at a later period to the confessors in virtue of their special relation to Christ or the Spirit (see Ep. Lugd. in Euseb., H. E. V. 1 ff.; Cypr. epp.; Tertull. de pudic. 22). The confusion occasioned by the confessors after the Decian persecution led to the non-recognition of any rights of "spiritual" persons other than the bishops. These confessors had frequently abetted laxity of conduct, whereas, if we consider the measure of secularisation found among the great mass of Christians, the penitential discipline insisted on by the bishops is remarkable for its comparative severity. The complete adoption of the episcopal constitution coincided with the introduction of the unlimited right to forgive sins.[235] 4. The original conception of the relation of the Church to salvation or eternal bliss was altered by this development. According to the older notion the Church was the sure communion of salvation and of saints, which rested on the forgiveness of sins mediated by baptism, and excluded everything unholy. It is not the Church, but God alone, that forgives sins, and, as a rule, indeed, this is only done through baptism, though, in virtue of his unfathomable grace, also now and then by special proclamations, the pardon coming into effect for repentant sinners, after death, in heaven. If Christendom readmitted gross sinners, it would anticipate the judgment of God, as it would thereby assure them of salvation. Hence it can only take back those who have been excluded in cases where their offences have not been committed against God himself, but have consisted in transgressing the commandments of the Church, that is, in venial sins.[236] But in course of time it was just in lay circles that faith in God's grace became weaker and trust in the Church stronger. He whom the Church abandoned was lost to the world; therefore she must not abandon him. This state of things was expressed in the new interpretation of the proposition, "no salvation outside the Church" ("extra ecclesiam nulla salus"), viz., _the Church alone saves from damnation which is otherwise certain_. In this conception the nature of the Church is depotentiated, but her powers are extended. If she is the institution which, according to Cyprian, is the indispensable preliminary condition of salvation, she can no longer be a sure communion of the saved; in other words, she becomes an institution from which proceeds the communion of saints; she includes both saved and unsaved. Thus her religious character consists in her being the indispensable medium, in so far as she alone guarantees to the individual the _possibility_ of redemption. From this, however, it immediately follows that the Church would anticipate the judgment of God if she finally excluded anyone from her membership who did not give her up of his own accord; whereas she could never prejudge the ultimate destiny of a man by readmission.[237] But it also follows that the Church must possess a means of repairing any injury upon earth, a means of equal value with baptism, namely, a sacrament of the forgiveness of sins. With this she acts in God's name and stead, but--and herein lies the inconsistency--she cannot by this means establish any final condition of salvation. In bestowing forgiveness on the sinner she in reality only reconciles him with herself, and thereby, in fact, merely removes the certainty of damnation. In accordance with this theory the holiness of the Church can merely consist in her possession of the means of salvation: _the Church is a holy institution in virtue of the gifts with which she is endowed_. She is the moral seminary that trains for salvation and the institution that exercises divine powers in Christ's room. Both of these conceptions presuppose political forms; both necessarily require priests and more especially an episcopate. (In de pudic. 21 Tertullian already defines the position of his adversary by the saying, "ecclesia est numerus episcoporum.") This episcopate by its unity guarantees the unity of the Church and has received the power to forgive sins (Cyp., ep. 69. 11). The new conception of the Church, which was a necessary outcome of existing circumstances and which, we may remark, was not formulated in contradictory terms by Cyprian, but by Roman bishops,[238] was the first thing that gave a fundamental _religious_ significance to the separation of clergy and laity. The powers exercised by bishops and priests were thereby fixed and hallowed. No doubt the old order of things, which gave laymen a share in the administration of moral discipline, still continued in the third century, but it became more and more a mere form. The bishop became the practical vicegerent of Christ; he disposed of the power to bind and to loose. But the recollection of the older form of Christianity continued to exert an influence on the Catholic Church of the third century. It is true that, if we can trust Hippolytus' account, Calixtus had by this time firmly set his face against the older idea, inasmuch as he not only defined the Church as _essentially a mixed body_ (_corpus permixtum_), but also asserted the unlawfulness of deposing the bishop even in case of mortal sin.[239] But we do not find that definition in Cyprian, and, what is of more importance, he still required a definite degree of active Christianity as a _sine quâ non_ in the case of bishops; and assumed it as a self-evident necessity. He who does not give evidence of this forfeits his episcopal office _ipso facto_.[240] Now if we consider that Cyprian makes the Church, as the body of believers (_plebs credentium_), so dependent on the bishops, that the latter are the only Christians not under tutelage, the demand in question denotes a great deal. It carries out the old idea of the Church in a certain fashion, as far as the bishops are concerned. But for this very reason it endangers the new conception in a point of capital importance; for the spiritual acts of a sinful bishop are invalid;[241] and if the latter, as a notorious sinner, is no longer bishop, the whole certainty of the ecclesiastical system ceases. Moreover, an appeal to the certainty of God's installing the bishops and always appointing the right ones[242] is of no avail, if false ones manifestly find their way in. Hence Cyprian's idea of the Church--and this is no dishonour to him--still involved an inconsistency which, in the fourth century, was destined to produce a very serious crisis in the Donatist struggle.[243] The view, however--which Cyprian never openly expressed, and which was merely the natural inference from his theory--that the Catholic Church, though the "one dove" ("una columba"), is in truth not coincident with the number of the elect, was clearly recognised and frankly expressed by Origen before him. Origen plainly distinguished between spiritual and fleshly members of the Church; and spoke of such as only belong to her outwardly, but are not Christians. As these are finally overpowered by the gates of hell, Origen does not hesitate to class them as merely seeming members of the Church. Conversely, he contemplates the possibility of a person being expelled from her fellowship and yet remaining a member in the eyes of God.[244] Nevertheless he by no means attained to clearness on the point, in which case, moreover, he would have been the first to do so; nor did he give an impulse to further reflection on the problem. Besides, speculations were of no use here. The Church with her priests, her holy books, and gifts of grace, that is, the moderate secularisation of Christendom corrected by the means of grace, was absolutely needed in order to prevent a complete lapse into immorality.[245] But a minority struggled against this Church, not with speculations, but by demanding adherence to the old practice with regard to lapsed members. Under the leadership of the Roman presbyter, Novatian, this section formed a coalition in the Empire that opposed the Catholic confederation.[246] Their adherence to the old system of Church discipline involved a reaction against the secularising process, which did not seem to be tempered by the spiritual powers of the bishops. Novatian's conception of the Church, of ecclesiastical absolution and the rights of the priests, and in short, his notion of the power of the keys is different from that of his opponents. This is clear from a variety of considerations. For he (with his followers) assigned to the Church the right and duty of expelling gross sinners once for all;[247] he denied her the authority to absolve idolaters, but left these to the forgiveness of God who alone has the power of pardoning sins committed against himself; and he asserted: "non est pax illi ab episcopo necessaria habituro gloriæ suæ (scil. martyrii) pacem et accepturo maiorem de domini dignatione mercedem,"--"the absolution of the bishop is not needed by him who will receive the peace of his glory (i.e., martyrdom) and will obtain a greater reward from the approbation of the Lord" (Cypr. ep. 57. 4), and on the other hand taught: "peccato alterius inquinari alterum et idololatriam delinquentis ad non delinquentem transire,"--"the one is defiled by the sin of the other and the idolatry of the transgressor passes over to him who does not transgress." His proposition that none but God can forgive sins does not depotentiate the idea of the Church; but secures both her proper religious significance and the full sense of her dispensations of grace: it limits her powers and _extent_ in favour of her _content_. Refusal of her forgiveness under certain circumstances--though this does not exclude the confident hope of God's mercy--can only mean that in Novatian's view this forgiveness is the foundation of salvation and does not merely avert the certainty of perdition. To the Novatians, then, membership of the Church is not the _sine quâ non_ of salvation, but it really secures it in some measure. In certain cases nevertheless the Church may not anticipate the judgment of God. Now it is never by exclusion, but by readmission, that she does so. As the assembly of the baptised, who have received God's forgiveness, the Church must be a real communion of salvation and of saints; hence she cannot endure unholy persons in her midst without losing her essence. Each gross sinner that is tolerated within her calls her legitimacy in question. But, from this point of view, the constitution of the Church, i.e., the distinction of lay and spiritual and the authority of the bishops, likewise retained nothing but the secondary importance it had in earlier times. For, according to those principles, the primary question as regards Church membership is not connection with the clergy (the bishop). It is rather connection with the community, fellowship with which secures the salvation that may indeed be found outside its pale, but not with certainty. But other causes contributed to lessen the importance of the bishops: the art of casuistry, so far-reaching in its results, was unable to find a fruitful soil here, and the laity were treated in exactly the same way as the clergy. The ultimate difference between Novatian and Cyprian as to the idea of the Church and the power to bind and loose did not become clear to the latter himself. This was because, in regard to the idea of the Church, he partly overlooked the inferences from his own view and to some extent even directly repudiated them. An attempt to lay down a principle for judging the case is found in ep. 69. 7: "We and the schismatics have neither the same law of the creed nor the same interrogation, for when they say: 'you believe in the remission of sins and eternal life through the holy Church,' they speak falsely" ("non est una nobis et schismaticis symboli lex neque eadem interrogatio; nam cum dicunt, credis in remissionem peccatorum et vitam æternam per sanctam ecclesiam, mentiuntur"). Nor did Dionysius of Alexandria, who endeavoured to accumulate reproaches against Novatian, succeed in forming any effective accusation (Euseb., H. E. VII. 8). Pseudo-Cyprian had just as little success (ad Novatianum). It was not till the subsequent period, when the Catholic Church had resolutely pursued the path she had entered, that the difference in principle manifested itself with unmistakable plainness. The historical estimate of the contrast must vary in proportion as one contemplates the demands of primitive Christianity or the requirements of the time. The Novatian confederation undoubtedly preserved a valuable remnant of the old tradition. The idea that the Church, as a fellowship of salvation, must also be the fellowship of saints ([Greek: Katharoi]) corresponds to the ideas of the earliest period. The followers of Novatian did not entirely identify the political and religious attributes of the Church; they neither transformed the gifts of salvation into means of education, nor confused the reality with the possibility of redemption; and they did not completely lower the requirements for a holy life. But on the other hand, in view of the minimum insisted upon, the claim _that they were the really evangelical party and that they fulfilled the law of Christ_[248] was a presumption. The one step taken to avert the secularising of the Church, exclusion of the lapsed, was certainly, considering the actual circumstances immediately following a great apostasy, a measure of radical importance; but, estimated by the Gospel and in fact simply by the demands of the Montanists fifty years before, it was remarkably insignificant. These Catharists did indeed go the length of expelling _all_ so-called mortal sinners, because it was too crying an injustice to treat _libellatici_ more severely than unabashed transgressors;[249] but, even then, it was still a gross self-deception to style themselves the "pure ones," since the Novatian Churches speedily ceased to be any stricter than the Catholic in their renunciation of the world. At least we do not hear that asceticism and devotion to religious faith were very much more prominent in the Catharist Church than in the Catholic. On the contrary, judging from the sources that have come down to us, we may confidently say that the picture presented by the two Churches in the subsequent period was practically identical.[250] As Novatian's adherents did not differ from the opposite party in doctrine and constitution, their discipline of penance appears an archaic fragment which it was a doubtful advantage to preserve; and their rejection of the Catholic dispensations of grace (practice of rebaptism) a revolutionary measure, because it had insufficient justification. But the distinction between venial and mortal sins, a theory they held in common with the Catholic Church, could not but prove especially fatal to them; whereas their opponents, through their new regulations as to penance, softened this distinction, and that not to the detriment of morality. For an entirely different treatment of so-called gross and venial transgressions must in every case deaden the conscience towards the latter. 5. If we glance at the Catholic Church and leave the melancholy recriminations out of account, we cannot fail to see the wisdom, foresight, and comparative strictness[251] with which the bishops carried out the great revolution that so depotentiated the Church as to make her capable of becoming a prop of civic society and of the state, without forcing any great changes upon them.[252] In learning to look upon the Church as a training school for salvation, provided with penalties and gifts of grace, and in giving up its religious independence in deference to her authority, Christendom as it existed in the latter half of the third century,[253] submitted to an arrangement that was really best adapted to its own interests. In the great Church every distinction between her political and religious conditions necessarily led to fatal disintegrations, to laxities, such as arose in Carthage owing to the enthusiastic behaviour of the confessors; or to the breaking up of communities. The last was a danger incurred in all cases where the attempt was made to exercise unsparing severity. A casuistic proceeding was necessary as well as a firm union of the bishops as pillars of the Church. Not the least important result of the crises produced by the great persecutions was the fact that the bishops in West and East were thereby forced into closer connection and at the same time acquired full jurisdiction ("per episcopos solos peccata posse dimitti"). If we consider that the archiepiscopal constitution had not only been simultaneously adopted, but had also attained the chief significance in the ecclesiastical organisation,[254] we may say that the Empire Church was completed the moment that Diocletian undertook the great reorganisation of his dominions.[255] No doubt the old Christianity had found its place in the new Church, but it was covered over and concealed. In spite of all that, little alteration had been made in the expression of faith, in religious language; people spoke of the universal holy Church, just as they did a hundred years before. Here the development in the history of dogma was in a very special sense a development in the history of the Church. Catholicism was now complete; the Church had suppressed all utterances of individual piety, in the sense of their being binding on Christians, and freed herself from every feature of exclusiveness. In order to be a Christian a man no longer required in any sense to be a saint. "What made the Christian a Christian was no longer the possession of charisms, but obedience to ecclesiastical authority," share in the gifts of the Church, and the performance of penance and good works. The Church by her edicts legitimised average morality, after average morality had created the authority of the Church. ("La médiocrité fonda l'autorité".) The dispensations of grace, that is, absolution and the Lord's Supper, abolished the charismatic gifts. The Holy Scriptures, the apostolic episcopate, the priests, the sacraments, average morality in accordance with which the whole world could live, were mutually conditioned. The consoling words: "Jesus receives sinners," were subjected to an interpretation that threatened to make them detrimental to morality.[256] And with all that the self-righteousness of proud ascetics was not excluded--quite the contrary. Alongside of a code of morals, to which any one in case of need could adapt himself, the Church began to legitimise a morality of self-chosen, refined sanctity, which really required no Redeemer. It was as in possession of this constitution that the great statesman found and admired her, and recognised in her the strongest support of the Empire.[257] A comparison of the aims of primitive Christendom with those of ecclesiastical society at the end of the third century--a comparison of the actual state of things at the different periods is hardly possible--will always lead to a disheartening result; but the parallel is in itself unjust. The truth rather is that the correct standpoint from which to judge the matter was already indicated by Origen in the comparison he drew (c. Cels. III. 29. 30) between the Christian society of the third century and the non-Christian, between the Church and the Empire, the clergy and the magistrates.[258] Amidst the general disorganisation of all relationships, and from amongst the ruins of a shattered fabric, a new structure, founded on the belief in one God, in a sure revelation, and in eternal life, was being laboriously raised. It gathered within it more and more all the elements still capable of continued existence; it readmitted the old world, cleansed of its grossest impurities, and raised holy barriers to secure its conquests against all attacks. Within this edifice justice and civic virtue shone with no greater brightness than they did upon the earth generally, but within it burned two mighty flames--the assurance of eternal life, guaranteed by Christ, and the practice of mercy. He who knows history is aware that the influence of epoch-making personages is not to be sought in its direct consequences alone, as these speedily disappear: that structure which prolonged the life of a dying world, and brought strength from the Holy One to another struggling into existence, was also partly founded on the Gospel, and but for this would neither have arisen nor attained solidity. Moreover, a Church had been created within which the pious layman could find a holy place of peace and edification. With priestly strife he had nothing to do, nor had he any concern in the profound and subtle dogmatic system whose foundation was now being laid. We may say that the religion of the laity attained freedom in proportion as it became impossible for them to take part in the establishment and guardianship of the official Church system. It is the professional guardians of this ecclesiastical edifice who are the real martyrs of religion, and it is they who have to bear the consequences of the worldliness and lack of genuineness pertaining to the system. But to the layman who seeks from the Church nothing more than aid in raising himself to God, this worldliness and unveracity do not exist. During the Greek period, however, laymen were only able to recognise this advantage to a limited extent. The Church dogmatic and the ecclesiastical system were still too closely connected with their own interests. It was in the Middle Ages, that the Church first became a Holy Mother and her house a house of prayer--for the Germanic peoples; for these races were really the children of the Church, and they themselves had not helped to rear the house in which they worshipped. ADDENDA. I. THE PRIESTHOOD. The completion of the old Catholic conception of the Church, as this idea was developed in the latter half of the third century, is perhaps most clearly shown in the attribute of priesthood, with which the clergy were invested and which conferred on them the greatest importance.[259] The development of this conception, whose adoption is a proof that the Church had assumed a heathen complexion, cannot be more particularly treated of here.[260] What meaning it has is shown by its application in Cyprian and the original of the first six books of the Apostolic Constitutions (see Book II.). The bishops (and also the presbyters) are priests, in so far as they alone are empowered to present the sacrifice as representatives of the congregation before God[261] and in so far as they dispense or refuse the divine grace as representatives of God in relation to the congregation. In this sense they are also judges in God's stead.[262] The position here conceded to the higher clergy corresponds to that of the mystagogue in heathen religions, and is acknowledged to be borrowed from the latter.[263] Divine grace already appears as a sacramental consecration of an objective nature, the bestowal of which is confined to spiritual personages chosen by God. This fact is no way affected by the perception that an ever increasing reference is made to the Old Testament priests as well as to the whole Jewish ceremonial and ecclesiastical regulations.[264] It is true that there is no other respect in which Old Testament commandments were incorporated with Christianity to such an extent as they were in this.[265] But it can be proved that this formal adoption everywhere took place at a subsequent date, that is, it had practically no influence on the development itself, which was not legitimised by the commandments till a later period, and that often in a somewhat lame fashion. We may perhaps say that the development which made the bishops and elders priests altered the inward form of the Church in a more radical fashion than any other. "Gnosticism," which the Church had repudiated in the second century, became part of her own system in the third. As her integrity had been made dependent on inalienable objective standards, the adoption even of this greatest innovation, which indeed was in complete harmony with the secular element within her, was an elementary necessity. In regard to every sphere of Church life, and hence also in respect to the development of dogma[266] and the interpretation of the Holy Scriptures, the priesthood proved of the highest significance. The clerical exposition of the sacred books, with its frightful ideas, found its earliest advocate in Cyprian and had thus a most skilful champion at the very first.[267] II. SACRIFICE. In Book I., chap. III., § 7, we have already shown what a wide field the idea of sacrifice occupied in primitive Christendom, and how it was specially connected with the celebration of the Lord's Supper. The latter was regarded as the pure (i.e., to be presented with a pure heart), bloodless thank offering of which Malachi had prophesied in I. 11. Priesthood and sacrifice, however, are mutually conditioned. The alteration of the concept "priest" necessarily led to a simultaneous and corresponding change in the idea of sacrifice, just as, conversely, the latter reacted on the former.[268] In Irenæus and Tertullian the old conception of sacrifice, viz., that prayers are the Christian sacrifice and that the disposition of the believer hallows his whole life even as it does his offering, and forms a well-pleasing sacrifice to God, remains essentially unchanged. In particular, there is no evidence of any alteration in the notion of sacrifice connected with the Lord's Supper.[269] But nevertheless we can already trace a certain degree of modification in Tertullian. Not only does he give fasting, voluntary celibacy, martyrdom, etc., special prominence among the sacrificial acts of a Christian life, and extol their religious value--as had already been done before; but he also attributes a God-propitiating significance to these performances, and plainly designates them as "merita" ("promereri deum"). To the best of my belief Tertullian was the first who definitely regarded ascetic performances as propitiatory offerings and ascribed to them the "potestas reconciliandi iratum deum."[270] But he himself was far from using this fatal theory, so often found in his works, to support a lax Church practice that made Christianity consist in outward forms. This result did not come about till the eventful decades, prolific in new developments, that elapsed between the persecutions of Septimius and Decius; and in the West it is again Cyprian who is our earliest witness as to the new view and practice.[271] In the first place, Cyprian was quite familiar with the idea of ascetic propitiations and utilised it in the interest of the Catholicity of the Church; secondly, he propounded a new theory of the offering in the cultus. As far as the first point is concerned, Cyprian's injunctions with regard to it are everywhere based on the understanding that even after baptism no one can be without sin (de op. et cleemos. 3); and also on the firm conviction that this sacrament can only have a retrospective virtue. Hence he concludes that we must appease God, whose wrath has been aroused by sin, through performances of our own, that is, through offerings that bear the character of "satisfactions." In other words we must blot out transgressions by specially meritorious deeds in order thus to escape eternal punishment. These deeds Cyprian terms "merita," which either possess the character of atonements, or, in case there are no sins to be expiated, entitle the Christian to a special reward (merces).[272] But, along with _lamentationes_ and acts of penance, it is principally alms-giving that forms such means of atonement (see de lapsis, 35, 36). In Cyprian's eyes this is already the proper satisfaction; mere prayer, that is, devotional exercises unaccompanied by fasting and alms, being regarded as "bare and unfruitful." In the work "de opere et eleemosynis" which, after a fashion highly characteristic of Cyprian, is made dependent on Sirach and Tobias, he has set forth a detailed theory of what we may call alms-giving as a _means of grace_ in its relation to baptism and salvation.[273] However, this practice can only be viewed as a means of grace in Cyprian's sense in so far as God has accepted it, that is, pointed it out. In itself it is a free human act. After the Decian persecution and the rearrangement of ecclesiastical affairs necessitated by it, works and alms (opera et eleemosynæ) made their way into the absolution system of the Church, and were assigned a permanent place in it. Even the Christian who has forfeited his Church membership by abjuration may ultimately recover it by deeds of sacrifice, of course under the guidance and intercessory coöperation of the Church. The dogmatic dilemma we find here cannot be more clearly characterised than by simply placing the two doctrines professed by Cyprian side by side. These are:--(1) that the sinfulness common to each individual can only be once extirpated by the power of baptism derived from the work of Christ, and (2) that transgressions committed after baptism, inclusive of mortal sins, can and must be expiated solely by spontaneous acts of sacrifice under the guidance of kind mother Church.[274] A Church capable of being permanently satisfied with such doctrines would very soon have lost the last remains of her Christian character. What was wanted was a means of grace, similar to baptism and granted by God through Christ, to which the _opera et eleemosynæ_ are merely to bear the relation of _accompanying_ acts. But Cyprian was no dogmatist and was not able to form a doctrine of the means of grace. He never got beyond his "propitiate God the judge by sacrifices after baptism" ("promereri deum judicem post baptismum sacrificiis"), and merely hinted, in an obscure way, that the absolution of him who has committed a deadly sin after baptism emanates from the same readiness of God to forgive as is expressed in that rite, and that membership in the Church is a condition of absolution. His whole theory as to the legal nature of man's (the Christian's) relationship to God, and the practice, inaugurated by Tertullian, of designating this connection by terms derived from Roman law continued to prevail in the West down to Augustine's time.[275] But, during this whole interval, no book was written by a Western Churchman which made the salvation of the sinful Christian dependent on ascetic offerings of atonement, with so little regard to Christ's grace and the divine factor in the case, as Cyprian's work _de opere et eleemosynis_. No less significant is Cyprian's advance as regards the idea of the sacrifice in public worship, and that in three respects. To begin with, Cyprian was the first to associate the specific offering, i.e., the Lord's Supper[276] with the specific priesthood. Secondly, he was the first to designate the _passio dominis_, nay, the _sanguis Christi_ and the _dominica hostia_ as the object of the eucharistic offering.[277] Thirdly, he expressly represented the celebration of the Lord's Supper as an incorporation of the congregation and its individual members with Christ, and was the first to bear clear testimony as to the special importance attributed to commemoration of the celebrators ("vivi et defuncti"), though no other can be ascertained than a specially strong intercession.[278] But this is really the essential effect of the sacrifice of the supper as regards the celebrators; for however much the conceptions about this ceremony might be heightened, and whatever additions might be made to its ritual, forgiveness of sins in the strict sense could not be associated with it. Cyprian's statement that every celebration of the Lord's Supper is a repetition or imitation of Christ's sacrifice of himself, and that the ceremony has therefore an expiatory value remains a mere assertion, though the Romish Church still continues to repeat this doctrine to the present day. For the idea that partaking of the Lord's Supper cleansed from sin like the mysteries of the Great Mother (magna mater) and Mithras, though naturally suggested by the ceremonial practice, was counteracted by the Church principles of penance and by the doctrine of baptism. As a sacrificial rite the Supper never became a ceremony equivalent in effect to baptism. But no doubt, as far as the popular conception was concerned, the solemn ritual copied from the ancient mysteries could not but attain an indescribably important significance. It is not possible, within the framework of the history of dogma, to describe the development of religious ceremonial in the third century, and to show what a radical alteration took place in men's conceptions with regard to it (cf. for example, Justin with Cyprian). But, in dealing with the history of dogma within this period, we must clearly keep in view the development of the cultus, the new conceptions of the value of ritual, and the reference of ceremonial usages to apostolic tradition; for there was plainly a remodelling of the ritual in imitation of the ancient mysteries and of the heathen sacrificial system, and this fact is admitted by Protestant scholars of all parties. Ceremonial and doctrine may indeed be at variance, for the latter may lag behind the former and vice versa, but they are never subject to entirely different conditions. III. MEANS OF GRACE, BAPTISM, and EUCHARIST. That which the Western Church of post-Augustinian times calls sacrament in the specific sense of the word (means of grace) was only possessed by the Church of the third century in the form of baptism.[279] In strict theory she still held that the grace once bestowed in this rite could be conferred by no holy ceremony of equal virtue, that is, by no fresh sacrament. The baptised Christian has no means of grace, conferred by Christ, at his disposal, but has his law to fulfil (see, e.g., Iren. IV. 27. 2). But, as soon as the Church began to absolve mortal sinners, she practically possessed in absolution a real means of grace that was equally effective with baptism from the moment that this remission became unlimited in its application.[280] The notions as to this means of grace, however, continued quite uncertain in so far as the thought of God's absolving the sinner through the priest was qualified by the other theory (see above) which asserted that forgiveness was obtained through the penitential acts of transgressors (especially baptism with blood, and next in importance _lamentationes, ieiunia, eleemosynæ_). In the third century there were manifold holy dispensations of grace by the hands of priests; but there was still no theory which traced the means of grace to the historical work of Christ in the same way that the grace bestowed in baptism was derived from it. From Cyprian's epistles and the anti-Novatian sections in the first six books of the Apostolic Constitutions we indeed see that appeal was not unfrequently made to the power of forgiving sins bestowed on the Apostles and to Christ's declaration that he received sinners; but, as the Church had not made up her mind to repeat baptism, so also she had yet no theory that expressly and clearly supplemented this rite by a _sacramentum absolutionis_. In this respect, as well as in regard to the _sacramentum ordinis_, first instituted by Augustine, theory remained far behind practice. This was by no means an advantage, for, as a matter of fact, the whole religious ceremonial was already regarded as a system of means of grace. The consciousness of a personal, living connection of the individual with God through Christ had already disappeared, and the hesitation in setting up new means of grace had only the doubtful result of increasing the significance of human acts, such as offerings and satisfactions, to a dangerous extent. Since the middle of the second century the notions of baptism[281] in the Church have not essentially altered (see Vol. I. p. 206 ff.). The result of baptism was universally considered to be forgiveness of sins, and this pardon was supposed to effect an actual sinlessness which now required to be maintained.[282] We frequently find "deliverance from death," "regeneration of man," "restoration to the image of God," and "obtaining of the Holy Spirit." ("Absolutio mortes," "regeneratio hominis," "restitutio ad similitudinem dei" and "consecutio spiritus sancti") named along with the "remission of sins" and "obtaining of eternal life" ("remissio delictorum" and "consecutio æternitatis"). Examples are to be found in Tertullian[283] adv. Marc. I. 28 and elsewhere; and Cyprian speaks of the "bath of regeneration and sanctification" ("lavacrum regenerationis et sanctificationis"). Moreover, we pretty frequently find rhetorical passages where, on the strength of New Testament texts, all possible blessings are associated with baptism.[284] The constant additions to the baptismal ritual, a process which had begun at a very early period, are partly due to the intention of symbolising these supposedly manifold virtues of baptism,[285] and partly owe their origin to the endeavour to provide the great mystery with fit accompaniments.[286] As yet the separate acts can hardly be proved to have an independent signification.[287] The water was regarded both as the symbol of the purification of the soul and as an efficacious, holy medium of the Spirit (in accordance with Gen. I. 2; water and Spirit are associated with each other, especially in Cyprian's epistles on baptism). He who asserted the latter did not thereby repudiate the former (see Orig. in Joann. Tom. VI. 17, Opp. IV. p. 133).[288] Complete obscurity prevails as to the Church's adoption of the practice of child baptism, which, though it owes its origin to the idea of this ceremony being indispensable to salvation, is nevertheless a proof that the superstitious view of baptism had increased.[289] In the time of Irenæus (II. 22. 4) and Tertullian (de bapt. 18) child baptism had already become very general and was founded on Matt. XIX. 14. We have no testimony regarding it from earlier times; Clement of Alexandria does not yet assume it. Tertullian argued against it not only because he regarded conscious faith as a needful preliminary condition, but also because he thought it advisable to delay baptism (cunctatio baptismi) on account of the responsibility involved in it (pondus baptismi). He says: "It is more advantageous to delay baptism, especially in the case of little children. For why is it necessary for the sponsors" (this is the first mention of "godparents") "also to be thrust into danger?... let the little ones therefore come when they are growing up; let them come when they are learning, when they are taught where they are coming to; let them become Christians when they are able to know Christ. Why does an age of innocence hasten to the remission of sins? People will act more cautiously in worldly affairs, so that one who is not trusted with earthly things is trusted with divine. Whoever understands the responsibility of baptism will fear its attainment more than its delay."[290] To all appearance the practice of immediately baptising the children of Christian families was universally adopted in the Church in the course of the third century. (Origen, Comment, in ep. ad Rom. V. 9, Opp. IV. p. 565, declared child baptism to be a custom handed down by the Apostles.) Grown up people, on the other hand, frequently postponed baptism, but this habit was disapproved.[291] The Lord's Supper was not only regarded as a sacrifice, but also as a divine gift.[292] The effects of this gift were not theoretically fixed, because these were excluded by the strict scheme[293] of baptismal grace and baptismal obligation. But in practice Christians more and more assumed a real bestowal of heavenly gifts in the holy food, and gave themselves over to superstitious theories. This bestowal was sometimes regarded as a spiritual and sometimes as a bodily self-communication of Christ, that is, as a miraculous implanting of divine life. Here ethical and physical, and again ethical and theoretical features were intermixed with each other. The utterances of the Fathers to which we have access do not allow us to classify these elements here; for to all appearance not a single one clearly distinguished between spiritual and bodily, or ethical and intellectual effects unless he was in principle a spiritualist. But even a writer of this kind had quite as superstitious an idea of the holy elements as the rest. Thus the holy meal was extolled as the communication of incorruption, as a pledge of resurrection, as a medium of the union of the flesh with the Holy Spirit; and again as food of the soul, as the bearer of the Spirit of Christ (the Logos), as the means of strengthening faith and knowledge, as a sanctifying of the whole personality. The thought of the forgiveness of sins fell quite into the background. This ever changing conception, as it seems to us, of the effects of partaking of the Lord's Supper had also a parallel in the notions as to the relation between the visible elements and the body of Christ. So far as we are able to judge no one felt that there was a _problem_ here, no one enquired whether this relation was realistic or symbolical. The symbol is the mystery and the mystery was not conceivable without a symbol. What we now-a-days understand by "symbol" is a thing which is not that which it represents; at that time "symbol" denoted a thing which, in some kind of way, really is what it signifies; but, on the other hand, according to the ideas of that period, the really heavenly element lay either in or behind the visible form without being identical with it. Accordingly the distinction of a symbolic and realistic conception of the Supper is altogether to be rejected; we could more rightly distinguish between materialistic, dyophysite, and docetic conceptions which, however, are not to be regarded as severally exclusive in the strict sense. In the popular idea the consecrated elements were heavenly fragments of magical virtue (see Cypr., de laps. 25; Euseb., H. E. VI. 44). With these the rank and file of third-century Christians already connected many superstitious notions which the priests tolerated or shared.[294] The antignostic Fathers acknowledged that the consecrated food consisted of two things, an earthly (the elements) and a heavenly (the real body of Christ). They thus saw in the sacrament a guarantee of the union between spirit and flesh, which the Gnostics denied; and a pledge of the resurrection of the flesh nourished by the blood of the Lord (Justin; Iren. IV. 18. 4, 5; V. 2. 2, 3; likewise Tertullian who is erroneously credited with a "symbolical" doctrine[295]). Clement and Origen "spiritualise," because, like Ignatius, they assign a spiritual significance to the flesh and blood of Christ himself (summary of wisdom). To judge from the exceedingly confused passage in Pæd. II. 2, Clement distinguishes a spiritual and a material blood of Christ. Finally, however, he sees in the Eucharist the union of the divine Logos with the human spirit, recognises, like Cyprian at a later period, that the mixture of wine with water in the symbol represents the spiritual process, and lastly does not fail to attribute to the holy food a relationship to the body.[296] It is true that Origen, the great mysteriosophist and theologian of sacrifice, expressed himself in plainly "spiritualistic" fashion; but in his eyes religious mysteries and the whole person of Christ lay in the province of the spirit, and therefore his theory of the Supper is not "symbolical," but conformable to his doctrine of Christ. Besides, Origen was only able to recognise spiritual aids in the sphere of the intellect and the disposition, and in the assistance given to these by man's own free and spontaneous efforts. Eating and drinking and, in general, participation in a ceremonial are from Origen's standpoint completely indifferent matters. The intelligent Christian feeds at all times on the body of Christ, that is, on the Word of God, and thus celebrates a never ending Supper (c. Cels. VIII. 22). Origen, however, was not blind to the fact that his doctrine of the Lord's Supper was just as far removed from the faith of the simple Christian as his doctrinal system generally. Here also, therefore, he accommodated himself to that faith in points where it seemed necessary. This, however, he did not find difficult; for, though with him everything is at bottom "spiritual," he was unwilling to dispense with symbols and mysteries, because he knew that one must be _initiated_ into the spiritual, since one cannot learn it as one learns the lower sciences.[297] But, whether we consider simple believers, the antignostic Fathers or Origen, and, moreover, whether we view the Supper as offering or sacrament, we everywhere observe that the holy ordinance had been entirely diverted from its original purpose and pressed into the service of the spirit of antiquity. In no other point perhaps is the hellenisation of the Gospel so evident as in this. To mention only one other example, this is also shown in the practice of child communion, which, though we first hear of it in Cyprian (Testim. III. 25; de laps. 25), can hardly be of later origin than child baptism. Partaking of the Supper seemed quite as indispensable as baptism, and the child had no less claim than the adult to a magical food from heaven.[298] * * * * * In the course of the third century a crass superstition became developed in respect to the conceptions of the Church and the mysteries connected with her. According to this notion we must subject ourselves to the Church and must have ourselves filled with holy consecrations as we are filled with food. But the following chapters will show that this superstition and mystery magic were counterbalanced by a most lively conception of the freedom and responsibility of the individual. Fettered by the bonds of authority and superstition in the sphere of religion, free and self-dependent in the province of morality, this Christianity is characterised by passive submission in the first respect and by complete activity in the second. It may be that exegetical theology can never advance beyond an alternation between these two aspects of the case, and a recognition of their equal claim to consideration; for the religious phenomenon in which they are combined defies any explanation. But religion is in danger of being destroyed when the insufficiency of the understanding is elevated into a convenient principle of theory and life, and when the real mystery of the faith, viz., how one becomes a new man, must accordingly give place to the injunction that we must obediently accept the religious as a consecration, and add to this the zealous endeavour after ascetic virtue. Such, however, has been the character of Catholicism since the third century, and even after Augustine's time it has still remained the same in its practice. _EXCURSUS TO CHAPTERS II. AND III._ CATHOLIC AND ROMAN.[299] In investigating the development of Christianity up till about the year 270 the following facts must be specially kept in mind: In the regions subject to Rome, apart from the Judæo-Christian districts and passing disturbances, Christianity had yet an undivided history in vital questions;[300] the independence of individual congregations and of the provincial groups of Churches was very great; and every advance in the development of the communities at the same time denoted a forward step in their adaptation to the existing conditions of the Empire. The first two facts we have mentioned have their limitations. The further apart the different Churches lay, the more various were the conditions under which they arose and flourished; the looser the relations between the towns in which they had their home the looser also was the connection between them. Still, it is evident that towards the end of the third century the development in the Church had well-nigh attained the same point everywhere--except in outlying communities. Catholicism, essentially as we conceive it now, was what most of the Churches had arrived at. Now it is an _a priori_ probability that this transformation of Christianity, which was simply the adaptation of the Gospel to the then existing Empire, came about under the guidance of the metropolitan Church,[301] the Church of Rome; and that "Roman" and "Catholic" had therefore a special relation from the beginning. It might _a limine_ be objected to this proposition that there is no direct testimony in support of it, and that, apart from this consideration, it is also improbable, in so far as, in view of the then existing condition of society, Catholicism appears as the _natural and only possible_ form in which Christianity could be adapted to the world. But this is not the case; for in the first place very strong proofs can be adduced, and besides, as is shown by the development in the second century, very different kinds of secularisation were possible. In fact, if all appearances are not deceptive, the Alexandrian Church, for example, was up to the time of Septimius Severus pursuing a path of development which, left to itself, would _not_ have led to Catholicism, but, in the most favourable circumstances, to a parallel form.[302] It can, however, be proved that it was in the Roman Church, which up to about the year 190 was closely connected with that of Asia Minor, that all the elements on which Catholicism is based first assumed a definite form.[303] (1) We know that the Roman Church possessed a precisely formulated baptismal confession, and that as early as the year 180 she declared this to be the apostolic rule by which everything is to be measured. It is only in her case that we are really certain of this, for we can merely guess at it as regards the Church of Smyrna, that is, of Asia Minor. It was accordingly admitted that the Roman Church was able to distinguish true from false with special exactness;[304] and Irenæus and Tertullian appealed to her to decide the practice in Gaul and Africa. This practice, in its precisely developed form, cannot be shown to have existed in Alexandria till a later period; but Origen, who testifies to it, also bears witness to the special reverence for and connection with the Roman Church. (2) The New Testament canon, with its claim to be accounted catholic and apostolic and to possess exclusive authority is first traceable in her; in the other communities it can only be proved to exist at a later period. In the great Antiochian diocese there was, for instance, a Church some of whose members wished the Gospel of Peter read; in the Pentapolis group of congregations the Gospel of the Egyptians was still used in the 3rd century; Syrian Churches of the same epoch used Tatian's Diatessaron; and the original of the first six books of the Apostolic Constitutions still makes no mention of a New Testament canon. Though Clement of Alexandria no doubt testifies that, in consequence of the common history of Christianity, the group of Scriptures read in the Roman congregations was also the same as that employed in public worship at Alexandria, he had as yet no New Testament canon before him in the sense of Irenæus and Tertullian. It was not till Origen's time that Alexandria reached the stage already attained in Rome about forty years earlier. It must, however, be pointed out that a series of New Testament books, in the form now found in the canon and universally recognised, show marks of revision that can be traced back to the Roman Church.[305] Finally, the later investigations, which show that after the third century the Western readings, that is, the Roman text, of the New Testament were adopted in the Oriental MSS. of the Bible,[306] are of the utmost value here; for the most natural explanation of these facts is that the Eastern Churches then received their New Testament from Rome and used it to correct their copies of books read in public worship.[307] (3) Rome is the first place which we can prove to have constructed a list of bishops reaching back to the Apostles (see Irenæus).[308] We know that in the time of Heliogabalus such lists also existed in other communities; but it cannot be proved that these had already been drawn up by the time of Marcus Aurelius or Commodus, as was certainly the case at Rome. (4) The notion of the apostolic succession of the episcopate[309] was first turned to account by the Roman bishops, and they were the first who definitely formulated the political idea of the Church in connection with this. The utterances and corresponding practical measures of Victor,[310] Calixtus (Hippolytus), and Stephen are the earliest of their kind; whilst the precision and assurance with which they substituted the political and clerical for the ideal conception of the Church, or amalgamated the two notions, as well as the decided way in which they proclaimed the sovereignty of the bishops, were not surpassed in the third century by Cyprian himself. (5) Rome was the first place, and that at a very early period, to date occurrences according to her bishops; and, even outside that city, churches reckoned, not according to their own, but according to the Roman episcopate.[311] (6) The Oriental Churches say that two bishops of Rome compiled the chief apostolic regulations for the organisation of the Church; and this is only partially wrong.[312] (7) The three great theologians of the age, Tertullian, Hippolytus, and Origen, opposed the pretensions of the Roman bishop Calixtus; and this very attitude of theirs testified that the advance in the political organisation of the Church, denoted by the measures of Calixtus, was still an unheard-of novelty, but immediately exercised a very important influence on the attitude of other Churches. We know that the other communities imitated this advance in the succeeding decades. (8) The institution of lower orders of clergy with the corresponding distinction of _clerici maiores_ and _minores_ first took place in Rome; but we know that this momentous arrangement gradually spread from that city to the rest of Christendom.[313] (9) The different Churches communicated with one another through the medium of Rome.[314] From these considerations we can scarcely doubt that the fundamental apostolic institutions and laws of Catholicism were framed in the same city that in other respects imposed its authority on the whole earth; and that it was the centre from which they spread, because the world had become accustomed to receive law and justice from Rome.[315] But it may be objected that the parallel development in other provinces and towns was spontaneous, though it everywhere came about at a somewhat later date. Nor do we intend to contest the assumption in this general sense; but, as I think, it can be proved that the Roman community had a direct and important share in the process and that, even in the second century, she was reckoned the first and most influential Church.[316] We shall give a bird's-eye view of the most important facts bearing on the question, in order to prove this. No other community made a more brilliant entrance into Church history than did that of Rome by the so called First Epistle of Clement--Paul having already testified (Rom. I. 8) that the faith of this Church was spoken of throughout the whole world. That letter to the Corinthians proves that, by the end of the first century, the Roman Church had already drawn up fixed rules for her own guidance, that she watched with motherly care over outlying communities, and that she then knew how to use language that was at once an expression of duty, love, and authority.[317] As yet she pretends to no legal title of any kind, but she knows the "commandments and ordinances" ([Greek: prostagmata] and [Greek: dokaiômata]) of God, whereas the conduct of the sister Church evinces her uncertainty on the matter; she is in an orderly condition, whereas the sister community is threatened with dissolution; she adheres to the [Greek: kanôn tês paradoseôs], whilst the other body stands in need of exhortation;[318] and in these facts her claim to authority consists. The Shepherd of Hermas also proves that even in the circles of the laity the Roman Church is impressed with the consciousness that she must care for the whole of Christendom. The first testimony of an outsider as to this community is afforded us by Ignatius. Soften as we may all the extravagant expressions in his Epistle to the Romans, it is at least clear that Ignatius conceded to them a precedence in the circle of sister Churches; and that he was well acquainted with the energy and activity displayed by them in aiding and instructing other communities.[319] Dionysius of Corinth, in his letter to bishop Soter, affords us a glimpse of the vast activity manifested by the Christian Church of the world's metropolis on behalf of all Christendom and of all brethren far and near; and reveals to us the feelings of filial affection and veneration with which she was regarded in all Greece as well as in Antioch. This author has specially emphasised the fact that the Roman Christians are _Romans_, that is, are conscious of the particular duties incumbent on them as members of the metropolitan Church.[320] After this evidence we cannot wonder that Irenæus expressly assigned to the Church of Rome the highest rank among those founded by the Apostles.[321] His famous testimony has been quite as often under as over-estimated. Doubtless his reference to the Roman Church is introduced in such a way that she is merely mentioned by way of example, just as he also adds the allusion to Smyrna and Ephesus; but there is quite as little doubt that this example was no arbitrary selection. The truth rather is that the Roman community _must_ have been named, because its decision was already the most authoritative and impressive in Christendom.[322] Whilst giving a formal scheme of proof that assigned the same theoretical value to each Church founded by the Apostles, Irenæus added a reference to particular circumstance, viz., that in his time many communities turned to Rome in order to testify their orthodoxy.[323] As soon as we cease to obscure our vision with theories and keep in view the actual circumstances, we have no cause for astonishment. Considering the active intercourse between the various Churches and the metropolis, it was of the utmost importance to all, especially so long as they required financial aid, to be in connection with that of Rome, to receive support from her, to know she would entertain travelling brethren, and to have the power of recommending prisoners and those pining in the mines to her influential intervention. The evidence of Ignatius and Dionysius as well as the Marcia-Victor episode place this beyond doubt (see above). The efforts of Marcion and Valentinus in Rome have also a bearing on this question, and the venerable bishop, Polycarp, did not shrink from the toil of a long journey to secure the valuable fellowship of the Roman Church;[324] it was not Anicetus who came to Polycarp, but Polycarp to Anicetus. At the time when the controversy with Gnosticism ensued, the Roman Church showed all the rest an example of resolution; it was naturally to be expected that, as a necessary condition of mutual fellowship, she should require other communities to recognise the law by which she had regulated her own circumstances. No community in the Empire could regard with indifference its relationship to the great Roman Church; almost everyone had connections with her; she contained believers from all the rest. As early as 180 this Church could point to a series of bishops reaching in uninterrupted succession from the glorious apostles Paul and Peter[325] down to the present time; and she alone maintained a brief but definitely formulated _lex_, which she entitled the summary of apostolic tradition, and by reference to which she decided all questions of faith with admirable certainty. Theories were incapable of overcoming the elementary differences that could not but appear as soon as Christianity became naturalised in the various provinces and towns of the Empire. Nor was it theories that created the empiric unity of the Churches, but the unity which the Empire possessed in Rome; the extent and composition of the Græco-Latin community there; the security--and this was not the least powerful element--that accompanied the development of this great society, well provided as it was with wealth and possessed of an influence in high quarters already dating from the first century;[326] as well as the care which it displayed on behalf of all Christendom. _All these causes combined to convert the Christian communities into a real confederation under the primacy of the Roman Church (and subsequently under the leadership of her bishops)._ This primacy cannot of course be further defined, for it was merely a _de facto_ one. But, from the nature of the case, it was immediately shaken, when it was claimed as a _legal_ right associated with the person of the Roman bishop. That this theory is more than a hypothesis is shown by several facts which prove the unique authority as well as the interference of the Roman Church (that is, of her bishop). First, in the Montanist controversy--and that too at the stage when it was still almost exclusively confined to Asia Minor--the already sobered adherents of the new prophecy petitioned Rome (bishop Eleutherus) to recognise their Church, and it was at Rome that the Gallic confessors cautiously interfered in their behalf; after which a native of Asia Minor induced the Roman bishop to withdraw the letters of toleration already issued.[327] In view of the facts that it was not Roman Montanists who were concerned, that Rome was the place where the Asiatic members of this sect sought for recognition, and that it was in Rome that the Gauls interfered in their behalf, the significance of this proceeding cannot be readily minimised. We cannot of course dogmatise on the matter; but the fact can be proved that the decision of the Roman Church must have settled the position of that sect of enthusiasts in Christendom. Secondly, what is reported to us of Victor, the successor of Eleutherus, is still plainer testimony. He ventured to issue an edict, which we may already style a peremptory one, proclaiming the Roman practice with regard to the regulation of ecclesiastical festivals to be the universal rule in the Church, and declaring that every congregation, that failed to adopt the Roman arrangement,[328] was excluded from the union of the one Church on the ground of heresy. How would Victor have ventured on such an edict--though indeed he had not the power of enforcing it in every case--unless the special prerogative of Rome to determine the conditions of the "common unity" ([Greek: koinê henôsis]) in the vital questions of the faith had been an acknowledged and well-established fact? How could Victor have addressed such a demand to the independent Churches, if he had not been recognised, in his capacity of bishop of Rome, as the special guardian of the [Greek: koinê henôsis]?[329] Thirdly, it was Victor who formally excluded Theodotus from Church fellowship. This is the first really well-attested case of a Christian _taking his stand on the rule of faith_ being excommunicated because a definite interpretation of it was already insisted on. In this instance the expression [Greek: huios monogenês] (only begotten Son) was required to be understood in the sense of [Greek: Phusei Theos] (God by nature). It was in Rome that this first took place. Fourthly, under Zephyrinus, Victor's successor, the Roman ecclesiastics interfered in the Carthaginian veil dispute, making common cause with the local clergy against Tertullian; and both appealed to the authority of predecessors, that is, above all, of the Roman bishops.[330] Tertullian, Hippolytus, Origen, and Cyprian were obliged to resist the pretensions of these ecclesiastics to authority outside their own Church, the first having to contend with Calixtus, and the three others with Stephen.[331] It was the Roman _Church_ that first displayed this activity and care; the Roman bishop sprang from the community in exactly the same way as the corresponding official did in other places.[332] In Irenæus' proof from prescription, however, it is already the Roman _bishops_ that are specially mentioned.[333] Praxeas reminded the bishop of Rome of the authority of his predecessors ("auctoritates præcessorum eius") and it was in the character of _bishop_ that Victor acted. The assumption that Paul and Peter laboured in Rome, that is, founded the Church of that city (Dionysius, Irenæus, Tertullian, Caius), must have conferred a high degree of prestige on her bishops, as soon as the latter officials were elevated to the position of more or less sovereign lords of the communities and were regarded as successors of the Apostles. The first who acted up to this idea was Calixtus. The sarcastic titles of "pontifex maximus," "episcopus episcoporum," "benedictus papa" and "apostolicus," applied to him by Tertullian in "de pudicitia" I. 13, are so many references to the fact that Calixtus already claimed for himself a position of primacy, in other words, that he associated with his own personal position as bishop the primacy possessed by the Roman Church, which pre-eminence, however, must have been gradually vanishing in proportion to the progress of the Catholic form of organisation among the other communities. Moreover, that is evident from the form of the edict he issued (Tert. I. c., I: "I hear that an edict has been issued and that a decisive one," "audio edictum esse præpositum et quidem peremptorium"), from the grounds it assigned and from the opposition to it on the part of Tertullian. From the form, in so far as Calixtus acted here quite independently and, without previous consultation, issued a _peremptory_ edict, that is, one settling the matter and immediately taking effect; from the grounds it assigned, in so far as he appealed in justification of his action to Matt. XVI. 18 ff.[334]--the first instance of the kind recorded in history; from Tertullian's opposition to it, because the latter treats it not as local, Roman, but as pregnant in consequences for all Christendom. But, as soon as the question took the form of enquiring whether the Roman _bishop_ was elevated above the rest, a totally new situation arose. Even in the third century, as already shown, the Roman community, led by its bishops, still showed the rest an example in the process of giving a political constitution to the Church. It can also be proved that even far distant congregations were still being bound to the Roman Church through financial support,[335] and that she was appealed to in questions of faith, just as the law of the city of Rome was invoked as the standard in civil questions.[336] It is further manifest from Cyprian's epistles that the Roman Church was regarded as the _ecclesia principalis_, as the guardian _par excellence_ of the _unity_ of the Church. We may explain from Cyprian's own particular situation all else that he said in praise of the Roman Church (see above p. 88, note 2) and specially of the _cathedra Petri_; but the general view that she is the "matrix et radix ecclesiæ catholicæ" is not peculiar to him, and the statement that the "unitas sacerdotalis" originated in Rome is merely the modified expression, necessitated by the altered circumstances of the Church, for the acknowledged fact that the Roman community was the most distinguished among the sister groups, and as such had had and still possessed the right and duty of watching over the unity of the whole. Cyprian himself no doubt took a further step at the time of his correspondence with Cornelius, and proclaimed the special reference of Matt. XVI. to the _cathedra Petri_; but he confined his theory to the abstractions "ecclesia," "cathedra." In him the importance of this _cathedra_ oscillates between the significance of a once existent fact that continues to live on as a symbol, and that of a real and permanent court of appeal. Moreover, he did not go the length of declaring that any special authority within the collective Church attached to the temporary occupant of the _cathedra Petri_. If we remove from Cyprian's abstractions everything to which he himself thinks there is nothing concrete corresponding, then we must above all eliminate every prerogative of the Roman bishop for the time being. What remains behind is the special position of the Roman Church, which indeed is represented by her bishop. Cyprian can say quite frankly: "owing to her magnitude Rome ought to have precedence over Carthage" ("pro magnitudine sua debet Carthaginem Roma præcedere") and his theory: "the episcopate is one, and a part of it is held by each bishop for the whole" ("episcopatus unus est, cuius a singulis in solidum pars tenetur"), virtually excludes any special prerogative belonging to a particular bishop (see also "de unit." 4). Here we have reached the point that has already been briefly referred to above, viz., that the consolidation of the Churches in the Empire after the Roman pattern could not but endanger the prestige and peculiar position of Rome, and did in fact do so. If we consider that each bishop was the acknowledged sovereign of his own diocese--now Catholic, that all bishops, as such, were recognised to be successors of the Apostles, that, moreover, the attribute of priesthood occupied a prominent position in the conception of the episcopal office, and that, the metropolitan unions with their presidents and synods had become completely naturalised--in short, that the rigid episcopal and provincial constitution of the Church had become an accomplished fact, so that, ultimately, it was no longer communities, but merely bishops that had dealings with each other, then we shall see that a new situation was thereby created for Rome, that is, for her bishop. In the West it was perhaps chiefly through the coöperation of Cyprian that Rome found herself face to face with a completely organised Church system. His behaviour in the controversy about heretical baptism proves that in cases of dispute he was resolved to elevate his theory of the sovereign authority of each bishop above his theory of the necessary connection with the _cathedra Petri_. But, when that levelling of the episcopate came about, Rome had already acquired rights that could no longer be cancelled.[337] Besides, there was one thing that could not be taken from the Roman Church, nor therefore from her bishop, even if she were denied the special right to Matt. XVI., viz., the possession of Rome. The site of the world's metropolis might be shifted, but Rome could not be removed. In the long run, however, the shifting of the capital proved advantageous to ecclesiastical Rome. At the beginning of the great epoch when the alienation of East from West became pronounced and permanent, an emperor, from political grounds, decided in favour of that party in Antioch "with whom the bishops in Italy and the city of the Romans held intercourse" ([Greek: hois an hoi kata tên Italian kai tên Rhômaiôn polin episkopoi tou dogmatos epistelloien][338]). In this instance the interest of the Roman Church and the interest of the emperor coincided. But the Churches in the various provinces, being now completely organised and therefore seldom in need of any more help from outside, were henceforth in a position to pursue their own interest. So the bishop of Rome had step by step to fight for the new authority, which, being now based on a purely dogmatic theory and being forced to repudiate any empirical foundation, was inconsistent with the Church system that the Roman community more than any other had helped to build up. The proposition "the Roman Church always had the primacy" ("ecclesia Romana semper habuit primatum") and the statement that "Catholic" virtually means "Roman Catholic" are gross fictions, when devised in honour of the temporary occupant of the Roman see and detached from the significance of the Eternal City in profane history; but, applied to the _Church_ of the imperial capital, they contain a truth the denial of which is equivalent to renouncing the attempt to explain the process by which the Church was unified and catholicised.[339] Footnotes: [Footnote 193: See Ritschl, l.c.; Schwegler. Der Montanismus, 1841; Gottwald, De Montanismo Tertulliani, 1862; Réville, Tertull. et le Montanisme, in the Revue des Deux Mondes of 1st Novr. 1864; Stroehlin, Essai sur le Montanisme, 1870; De Soyres, Montanism and the Primitive Church, 1878; Cunningham, The Churches of Asia, 1880; Renan, Les Crises du Catholicisme Naissant in the Revue des Deux Mondes of 15th Febr. 1881; Renan, Marc Aurèle, 1882, p. 208 ff.; Bonwetsch, Geschichte des Montanismus, 1881; Harnack, Das Monchthum, seine Ideale und seine Geschichte, 3rd. ed., 1886; Belck, Geschichte des Montanismus, 1883; Voigt, Eine verschollene Urkunde des antimontanistischen Kampfes, 1891. Further the articles on Montanism by Moller (Herzog's Real-Encyklopädie), Salmon (Dictionary of Christian Biography), and Harnack (Encyclopedia Britannica). Weizsäcker in the Theologische Litteraturzeitung, 1882, no. 4; Bonwetsch, Die Prophetie im apostolischen und nachapostolischen Zeitalter in the Zeitschrift fur kirchliche Wissenschaft und kirchliches Leben, 1884, Parts 8, 9; M. von Engelhardt, Die ersten Versuche zur Aufrichtung des wahren Christenthums in einer Gemeinde von Heiligen, Riga, 1881.] [Footnote 194: In certain vital points the conception of the original nature and history of Montanism, as sketched in the following account, does not correspond with that traditionally current. To establish it in detail would lead us too far. It may be noted that the mistakes in estimating the original character of this movement arise from a superficial examination of the oracles preserved to us and from the unjustifiable practice of interpreting them in accordance with their later application in the circles of Western Montanists. A completely new organisation of Christendom, beginning with the Church in Asia, to be brought about by its being detached from the bonds of the communities and collected into one region, was the main effort of Montanus. In this way he expected to restore to the Church a spiritual character and fulfil the promises contained in John. That is clear from Euseb., V. 16 ff. as well as from the later history of Montanism in its native land (see Jerome, ep. 41; Epiphan., H. 49. 2 etc.). In itself, however, apart from its particular explanation in the case of Montanus, the endeavour to detach Christians from the local Church unions has so little that is striking about it, that one rather wonders at being unable to point to any parallel in the earliest history of the Church. Wherever religious enthusiasm has been strong, it has at all times felt that nothing hinders its effect more than family ties and home connections. But it is just from the absence of similar undertakings in the earliest Christianity that we are justified in concluding that the strength of enthusiastic exaltation is no standard for the strength of _Christian_ faith. (Since these words were written, we have read in Hippolytus' Commentary on Daniel [see Georgiades in the journal [Greek: Ekkl. alêtheia] 1885, p. 52 sq.] very interesting accounts of such undertakings in the time of Septimius Severus. A Syrian bishop persuaded many brethren with wives and children to go to meet Christ in the wilderness; and another in Pontus induced his people to sell all their possessions, to cease tilling their lands, to conclude no more marriages etc., because the coming of the Lord was nigh at hand.)] [Footnote 195: Oracle of Prisca in Epiph. H. 49. 1.] [Footnote 196: Even in its original home Montanism must have accommodated itself to circumstances at a comparatively early date--which is not in the least extraordinary. No doubt the Montanist Churches in Asia and Phrygia, to which the bishop of Rome had already issued _literæ pacis_, were now very different from the original followers of the prophets (Tertull., adv. Prax. 1). When Tertullian further reports that Praxeas at the last moment prevented them from being recognised by the bishop of Rome, "falsa de ipsis prophetis et ecclesiis eorum adseverando," the "falsehood about the Churches" may simply have consisted in an account of the original tendencies of the Montanist sect. The whole unique history which, in spite of this, Montanism undoubtedly passed through in its original home is, however explained by the circumstance that there were districts there, where all Christians belonged to that sect (Epiph., H. 51. 33; cf. also the later history of Novatianism). In their peculiar Church organisation (patriarchs, stewards, bishops), these sects preserved a record of their origin.] [Footnote 197: Special weight must be laid on this. The fact that whole communities became followers of the new prophets, who nevertheless adhered to no old regulation, must above all be taken into account.] [Footnote 198: See Oracles 1, 3, 4, 5, 10, 12, 17, 18, 21 in Bonwetsch, l.c., p. 197 f. It can hardly have been customary for Christian prophets to speak like Montanus (Nos. 3-5): [Greek: egô kyrios ho theos ho pantokratôr kataginomenos en anthropô], or [Greek: egô kyrios ho theos patêr êlthon,] or [Greek: egô eimi ho patêr kai ho uios kai ho paraklêtos], though Old Testament prophecy takes an analogous form. Maximilla says on one occasion (No. 11); [Greek: apesteile me kyrios toutou tou ponou kai tês epangelias airetistên]; and a second time (No. 12): [Greek: diôkomai hôs lycos ek probatôn ouk eimi lycos; rhêma eimi kai pneuma kai dynamis.] The two utterances do not exclude, but include, one another (cf. also No. 10: [Greek: emou mê akousête alla Christou akousate]). From James IV. V. and Hermas, and from the Didache, on the other hand, we can see how the prophets of Christian communities may have usually spoken.] [Footnote 199: L.c., no. 9: [Greek: Christos hen idea gynaikos eschêmatismenos.] How variable must the misbirths of the Christian imagination have been in this respect also! Unfortunately almost everything of that kind has been lost to us because it has been suppressed. The fragments of the once highly esteemed Apocalypse of Peter are instructive, for they still attest that the existing remains of early Christian literature are not able to give a correct picture of the strength of religious imagination in the first and second centuries. The passages where Christophanies are spoken of in the earliest literature would require to be collected. It would be shown what naive enthusiasm existed. Jesus appears to believers as a child, as a boy, as a youth, as Paul etc. Conversely, glorified men appear in visions with the features of Christ.] [Footnote 200: See Euseb., H. E. V. 16. 9. In Oracle No. 2 an evangelical promise is repeated in a heightened form; but see Papias in Iren., V. 33. 3 f.] [Footnote 201: We may unhesitatingly act on the principle that the Montanist elements, as they appear in Tertullian, are, in all cases, found not in a strengthened, but a weakened, form. So, when even Tertullian still asserts that the Paraclete in the new prophets could overturn or change, and actually did change, regulations of the Apostles, there is no doubt that the new prophets themselves did not adhere to apostolic dicta and had no hesitation in deviating from them. Cf., moreover, the direct declarations on this point in Hippolytus (Syntagma and Philos. VIII. 19) and in Didymus (de trin. III. 41. 2).] [Footnote 202: The precepts for a Christian life, if we may so speak, given by the new prophets, cannot be determined from the compromises on which the discipline of the later Montanist societies of the Empire were based. Here they sought for a narrow line between the Marcionite and Encratite mode of life and the common church practice, and had no longer the courage and the candour to proclaim the "e sæculo excedere." Sexual purity and the renunciation of the enjoyments of life were the demands of the new prophets. But it is hardly likely that they prescribed precise "laws," for the primary matter was not asceticism, but the realising of a promise. In later days it was therefore possible to conceive the most extreme demands as regulations referring to none but the prophets themselves, and to tone down the oracles in their application to believers. It is said of Montanus himself (Euseb., H. E. V. 18. 2): [Greek: ho didaxas lyseis gamôn, ho nêsteias nomothetêsas]; Prisca was a [Greek: parthenos] (l.c. § 3); Proculus, the chief of the Roman Montanists, "virginis senectæ" (Tert., adv. Val. 5). The oracle of Prisca (No. 8) declares that sexual purity is the preliminary condition for the oracles and visions of God; it is presupposed in the case of every "sanctus minister." Finally, Origen tells us (in Titum, Opp. IV. 696) that the (older) Cataphrygians said: "ne accedas ad me, quoniam mundus sum; non enim accepi uxorem, nec est sepulcrum patens guttur menin, sed sum Nazarenus dei non bibens vinum sicut illi." But an express legal direction to abolish marriage cannot have existed in the collection of oracles possessed by Tertullian. But who can guarantee that they were not already corrected? Such an assumption, however, is not necessary.] [Footnote 203: Euseb., V. 16. 9: V. 18. 5.] [Footnote 204: It will not do simply to place Montanus and his two female associates in the same category as the prophets of primitive Christian Churches. The claim that the Spirit had descended upon them in unique fashion must have been put forth by themselves with unmistakable clearness. If we apply the principle laid down on p. 98, note 3, we will find that--apart from the prophets' own utterances--this is still clearly manifest from the works of Tertullian. A consideration of the following facts will remove all doubt as to the claim of the new prophets to the possession of an unique mission, (1) From the beginning both opponents and followers constantly applied the title "New Prophecy" to the phenomenon in question (Euseb., V. 16. 4: V. 19. 2; Clem., Strom. IV. 13. 93; Tertull., monog. 14, ieiun. I, resurr. 63, Marc. III. 24.: IV. 22, Prax. 30; Firmil. ep. 75. 7; alii). (2) Similarly, the divine afflatus was, from the first, constantly designated as the "Paraclete" (Orac. no. 5; Tertull. passim; Hippol. passim; Didymus etc.). (3) Even in the third century the Montanist congregations of the Empire must still have doubted whether the Apostles had possessed this Paraclete or not, or at least whether this had been the case in the full sense. Tertullian identifies the Spirit and the Paraclete and declares that the Apostles possessed the latter in full measure--in fact as a Catholic he could not do otherwise. Nevertheless he calls Montanus etc. "prophetæ proprii" of the Spirit (pudic. 12; see Acta Perpet. 21). On the contrary we find in Philos. VIII. 19: [Greek: huper de apostolous kai pan charisma tauta ta gunaia doxazouin, hôs tolman pleion ti Christou en toutois legein tinas autôn gegoneai]. Pseudo-Tertullian says: "in apostolis quidem dicunt spiritum sanctum fuisse, paracletum non fuisse, et paracletum plura in Montano dixisse quam Christum in evangelio protulisse." In Didymus, l.c., we read: [Greek: tou apostolou grapsantos k.t.l., ekeinoi legousin ton Montanon elêluthenai kai eschêkenai to teleion to tou paraklêton, tout' estin to tou agion pneumatos]. (4) Lastly, the Montanists asserted that the prediction contained in John XIV. ff. had been fulfilled in the new prophecy, and that from the beginning, as is denoted by the very expression "Paraclete." What sort of mission they ascribed to themselves is seen from the last quoted passage, for the promises contained in it must be regarded as the enthusiastic carrying out of Montanus' programme. If we read attentively John XIV. 16-21, 23, 26: XV. 20-26: XVI. 7-15, 25 as well as XVII. and X.; if we compare the oracles of the prophets still preserved to us; if we consider the attempt of Montanus to gather the scattered Christians and really form them into a flock, and also his claim to be the bearer of the greatest and last revelations that lead to all truth; and, finally, if we call to mind that in those Johannine discourses Christ designated the coming of the Paraclete as his own coming in the Paraclete and spoke of an immanence and unity of Father, Son, and Paraclete, which one finds re-echoed in Montanus' Oracle No. V., we cannot avoid concluding that the latter's undertaking is based on the impression made on excited and impatient prophets by the promises contained in the Gospel of John, understood in an apocalyptic and realistic sense, and also by Matt. XXIII. 34 (see Euseb., V. 16. 12 sq.). The correctness of this interpretation is proved by the fact that the first decided opponents of the Montanists in Asia--the so-called "Alogi" (Epiph., H. 51)--rejected both the Gospel and Revelation of John, that is, regarded them as written by some one else. Montanism therefore shows us the first and--up till about 180--really the only impression made by the Gospel of John on non-Gnostic Gentile Christians; and what a remarkable one it was! It has a parallel in Marcion's conception of Paulinism. Here we obtain glimpses of a state of matters which probably explains why these writings were made innocuous in the canon. To the view advanced here it cannot be objected that the later adherents of the new prophets founded their claims on the recognised gift of prophecy in the Church, or on a prophetic succession (Euseb, H. E. V. 17. 4; Proculus in the same author, II. 25. 7: III. 31. 4), nor that Tertullian, when it suits him, simply regards the new prophecy as a _restitutio_ (e.g., in Monog. 4); for these assumptions merely represent the unsuccessful attempt to legitimise this phenomenon within the Catholic Church. In proof of the fact that Montanus appealed to the Gospel of John see Jerome, Ep. 41 (Migne I. p. 474), which begins with the words: "Testimonia de Johannis evangelio congregata, quæ tibi quidam Montani sectator ingessit, in quibus salvator noster se ad patrem iturum missurumque paracletum pollicetur etc." In opposition to this Jerome argues that the promises about the Paraclete are fulfilled in Acts II., as Peter said in his speech, and then continues as follows: "Quodsi voluerint respondere et Philippi deinceps quattuor filias prophetasse et prophetam Agabum reperiri et in divisionibus spiritus inter apostolos et doctores et prophetas quoque apostolo scribente formatos. etc."] [Footnote 205: We are assured of this not only by Tertullian, but also by the Roman Montanist Proculus, who, like the former, argued against heretics, and by the testimony of the Church Fathers (see, e.g., Philos. VIII. 19). It was chiefly on the ground of their orthodoxy that Tertullian urged the claim of the new prophets to a hearing; and it was, above all, as a Montanist that he felt himself capable of combating the Gnostics, since the Paraclete not only confirmed the _regula_, but also by unequivocal utterances cleared up ambiguous and obscure passages in the Holy Scriptures, and (as was asserted) completely rejected doctrines like the Monarchian (see fuga 1, 14; corona 4; virg. vel. 1: Prax. 2, 13, 30; resurr. 63; pud. 1; monog. 2; ieiun. 10, II). Besides, we see from Tertullian's writings that the secession of the Montanist conventicles from the Church was forced upon them.] [Footnote 206: The question as to whether the new prophecy had or had not to be recognised as such became the decisive one (fuga 1, 14; coron. 1; virg. vel. 1; Prax. 1: pudic. 11; monog. 1). This prophecy was recorded in writing (Euseb., V. 18. 1; Epiph., H. 48. 10; Euseb., VI. 20). The putting of this question, however, denoted a fundamental weakening of conviction, which was accompanied by a corresponding falling off in the application of the prophetic utterances.] [Footnote 207: The situation that preceded the acceptance of the new prophecy in a portion of Christendom may be studied in Tertullian's writings "de idolol." and "de spectac." Christianity had already been conceived as a _nova lex_ throughout the whole Church, and this _lex_ had, moreover, been clearly defined in its bearing on the faith. But, as regards outward conduct, there was no definite _lex_, and arguments in favour both of strictness and of laxity were brought forward from the Holy Scriptures. No divine ordinances about morality could be adduced against the progressive secularising of Christianity; but there was need of statutory commandments by which all the limits were clearly defined. In this state of perplexity the oracles of the new prophets were gladly welcomed; they were utilised in order to justify and invest with divine authority a reaction of a moderate kind. More than that--as may be inferred from Tertullian's unwilling confession--could not be attained; but it is well known that even this result was not reached. Thus the Phrygian movement was employed in support of undertakings, that had no real connection with it. But this was the form in which Montanism first became a factor in the history of the Church. To what extent it had been so before, particularly as regards the creation of a New Testament canon (in Asia Minor and Rome), cannot be made out with certainty.] [Footnote 208: See Bonwetsch, l.c., p. 82-108.] [Footnote 209: This is the point about which Tertullian's difficulties are greatest. Tatian is expressly repudiated in de ieiun. 15.] [Footnote 210: Tertullian (de monog.) is not deterred by such a limitation: "qui potest capere capiat, inquit, id est qui non potest discedat."] [Footnote 211: It is very instructive, but at the same time very painful, to trace Tertullian's endeavours to reconcile the irreconcilable, in other words, to show that the prophecy is new and yet not so; that it does not impair the full authority of the New Testament and yet supersedes it. He is forced to maintain the theory that the Paraclete stands in the same relation to the Apostles as Christ does to Moses, and that he abrogates the concessions made by the Apostles and even by Christ himself; whilst he is at the same time obliged to reassert the sufficiency of both Testaments. In connection with this he hit upon the peculiar theory of stages in revelation--a theory which, were it not a mere expedient in his case, one might regard as the first faint trace of a historical view of the question. Still, this is another case of a dilemma, furnishing theology with a conception that she has cautiously employed in succeeding times, when brought face to face with certain difficulties; see virg. vel. I; exhort. 6; monog. 2, 3, 14; resurr. 63. For the rest, Tertullian is at bottom a Christian of the old stamp; the theory of any sort of finality in revelation is of no use to him except in its bearing on heresy; for the Spirit continually guides to all truth and works wherever he will. Similarly, his only reason for not being an Encratite is that this mode of life had already been adopted by heretics, and become associated with dualism. But the conviction that all religion must have the character of a fixed _law_ and presupposes definite regulations--a belief not emanating from primitive Christianity, but from Rome--bound him to the Catholic Church. Besides, the contradictions with which he struggled were by no means peculiar to him; in so far as the Montanist societies accepted the Catholic regulations, they weighed on them all, and in all probability crushed them out of existence. In Asia Minor, where the breach took place earlier, the sect held its ground longer. In North Africa the residuum was a remarkable propensity to visions, holy dreams, and the like. The feature which forms the peculiar characteristic of the Acts of Perpetua and Felicitas is still found in a similar shape in Cyprian himself, who makes powerful use of visions and dreams; and in the genuine African Acts of the Martyrs, dating from Valerian's time, which are unfortunately little studied. See, above all, the Acta Jacobi, Mariani etc., and the Acta Montani, Lucii etc. (Ruinart, Acta Mart. edit Ratisb. 1859, p. 268 sq., p. 275 sq.)] [Footnote 212: Nothing is known of attempts at a formal incorporation of the Oracles with the New Testament. Besides, the Montanists could dispense with this because they distinguished the commandments of the Paraclete as "novissima lex" from the "novum testamentum." The preface to the Montanist Acts of Perpetua and Felicitas (was Tertullian the author?) showed indeed the high value attached to the visions of martyrs. In so far as these were to be read in the Churches they were meant to be reckoned as an "instrumentum ecclesiæ" in the wider sense.] [Footnote 213: Here the bishops themselves occupy the foreground (there are complaints about their cowardice and serving of two masters in the treatise _de fugo_). But it would be very unjust simply to find fault with them as Tertullian does. Two interests combined to influence their conduct; for if they drew the reins tight they gave over their flock to heresy or heathenism. This situation is already evident in Hermas and dominates the resolutions of the Church leaders in succeeding generations (see below).] [Footnote 214: The distinction of "Spiritales" and "Psychici" on the part of the Montanists is not confined to the West (see Clem., Strom. IV. 13. 93); we find it very frequently in Tertullian. In itself it did not yet lead to the formal breach with the Catholic Church.] [Footnote 215: A contrast to the bishops and the regular congregational offices existed in primitive Montanism. This was transmitted in a weakened form to the later adherents of the new prophecy (cf. the Gallic confessors' strange letter of recommendation on behalf of Irenæus in Euseb., H. E. V. 4), and finally broke forth with renewed vigour in opposition to the measures of the lax bishops (de pudic. 21; de exhort. 7; Hippolytus against Calixtus). The _ecclesia_, represented as _numerus episcoporum_, no longer preserved its prestige in the eyes of Tertullian.] [Footnote 216: See here particularly, de pudicitia 1, where Tertullian sees the virginity of the Church not in pure doctrine, but in strict precepts for a holy life. As will have been seen in this account, the oft debated question as to whether Montanism was an innovation or merely a reaction does not admit of a simple answer. In its original shape it was undoubtedly an innovation; but it existed at the end of a period when one cannot very well speak of innovations, because no bounds had yet been set to subjective religiosity. Montanus decidedly went further than any Christian prophets known to us; Hermas, too, no doubt gave injunctions, as a prophet, which gave rise to innovations in Christendom; but these fell short of Montanus' proceedings. In its later shape, however, Montanism was to all intents and purposes a reaction, which aimed at maintaining or reviving an older state of things. So far, however, as this was to be done by legislation, by a _novissima lex_, we have an evident innovation analogous to the Catholic development. Whereas in former times exalted enthusiasm had of itself, as it were, given rise to strict principles of conduct among its other results, these principles, formulated with exactness and detail, were now meant to preserve or produce that original mode of life. Moreover, as soon as the New Testament was recognised, the conception of a subsequent revelation through the Paraclete was a highly questionable and strange innovation. But for those who acknowledged the new prophecy all this was ultimately nothing but a means. Its practical tendency, based as it was on the conviction that the Church abandons her character if she does not resist gross secularisation at least, was no innovation, but a defence of the most elementary requirements of primitive Christianity in opposition to a Church that was always more and more becoming a new thing.] [Footnote 217: There were of course a great many intermediate stages between the extremes of laxity and rigour, and the new prophecy was by no means recognised by all those who had strict views as to the principles of Christian polity; see the letters of Dionysius of Corinth in Euseb., H. E. IV. 23. Melito, the prophet, eunuch, and bishop, must also be reckoned as one of the stricter party, but not as a Montanist. We must judge similarly of Irenæus.] [Footnote 218: Euseb., H. E. V. 16. 17. The life of the prophets themselves was subsequently subjected to sharp criticism.] [Footnote 219: This was first done by the so-called Alogi who, however, had to be repudiated.] [Footnote 220: De ieiun. 12, 16.] [Footnote 221: Tertullian protested against this in the most energetic manner.] [Footnote 222: It is well known that in the 3rd century the Revelation of John itself was viewed with suspicion and removed from the canon in wide circles in the East.] [Footnote 223: In the West the Chiliastic hopes were little or not at all affected by the Montanist struggle. Chiliasm prevailed there in unimpaired strength as late as the 4th century. In the East, on the contrary, the apocalyptic expectations were immediately weakened by the Montanist crisis. But it was philosophical theology that first proved their mortal enemy. In the rural Churches of Egypt Chiliasm was still widely prevalent after the middle of the 3rd century; see the instructive 24th chapter of Eusebius' Ecclesiastical History, Book VII. "Some of their teachers," says Dionysius, "look on the Law and the Prophets as nothing, neglect to obey the Gospel, esteem the Epistles of the Apostles as little worth, but, on the contrary, declare the doctrine contained in the Revelation of John to be a great and a hidden mystery." There were even temporary disruptions in the Egyptian Church on account of Chiliasm (see Chap. 24. 6).] [Footnote 224: "Lex et prophetæ usque ad Johannem" now became the motto. Churchmen spoke of a "completus numerus prophetarum" (Muratorian Fragment), and formulated the proposition that the prophets corresponded to the pre-Christian stage of revelation, but the Apostles to the Christian; and that in addition to this the apostolic age was also particularly distinguished by gifts of the Spirit. "Prophets and Apostles" now replaced "Apostles, prophets, and teachers," as the court of appeal. Under such circumstances prophecy might still indeed exist; but it could no longer be of a kind capable of ranking, in the remotest degree, with the authority of the Apostles in point of importance. Hence it was driven into a corner, became extinct, or at most served only to support the measures of the bishops. In order to estimate the great revolution in the spirit of the times let us compare the utterances of Irenæus and Origen about gifts of the Spirit and prophecy. Irenæus still expressed himself exactly like Justin (Dial. 39, 81, 82, 88); he says (II. 32. 4: V. 6. 1): [Greek: kathôs kai pollôn akouomen adelphôn hen tê ekklêsia prophêtika charismata echontôn k.t.l.] Origen on the contrary (see numerous passages, especially in the treatise c. Cels.), looks back to a period after which the Spirit's gifts in the Church ceased. It is also a very characteristic circumstance that along with the naturalisation of Christianity in the world, the disappearance of charisms, and the struggle against Gnosticism, a strictly ascetic mode of life came to be viewed with suspicion. Euseb., H. E. V. 3 is especially instructive on this point. Here it is revealed to the confessor Attalus that the confessor Alcibiades, who even in captivity continued his ascetic practice of living on nothing but bread and water, was wrong in refraining from that which God had created and thus become a "[Greek: typos skandalou]" to others. Alcibiades changed his mode of life. In Africa, however, (see above, p. 103) dreams and visions still retained their authority in the Church as important means of solving perplexities.] [Footnote 225: Tertullian, adv. Marc. IV. 9, enumerates "septem maculas capitalium delictorum," namely, "idololatria," "blasphemia," "homicidium," "adulterium," "stuprum," "falsum testimonium," "fraus." The stricter treatment probably applied to all these seven offences. So far as I know, the lapse into heresy was not placed in the same category in the first centuries; see Iren. III. 4. 2: Tertull., de præscr. 30 and, above all, de pudic. 19 init.; the anonymous writer in Euseb., H. E. V. 28. 12, from which passages it is evident that repentant heretics were readmitted.] [Footnote 226: Hermas based the admissibility of a second atonement on a definite divine revelation to this effect, and did not expressly discuss the admission of gross sinners into the Church generally, but treated of their reception into that of the last days, which he believed had already arrived. See particulars on this point in my article "Lapsi," in Herzog's Real-Encyklopädie, 2 ed. Cf. Preuschen, Tertullian's Schriften de pænit. et de pudic. mit Rücksicht auf die Bussdisciplin, 1890; Rolffs, Indulgenz-Edict des Kallistus, 1893.] [Footnote 227: In the work de pænit. (7 ff.) Tertullian treats this as a fixed Church regulation. K. Müller, Kirchengeschichte I. 1892, p. 114, rightly remarks: "He who desired this expiation continued in the wider circle of the Church, in her 'antechamber' indeed, but as her member in the wider sense. This, however, did not exclude the possibility of his being received again, even in this world, into the ranks of those possessing full Christian privileges,--after the performance of penance or _exhomologesis_. But there was no kind of certainty as to that taking place. Meanwhile this _exhomologesis_ itself underwent a transformation which in Tertullian includes a whole series of basal religious ideas. It is no longer a mere expression of inward feeling, confession to God and the brethren, but is essentially performance. It is the actual attestation of heartfelt sorrow, the undertaking to satisfy God by works of self-humiliation and abnegation, which he can accept as a voluntarily endured punishment and therefore as a substitute for the penalty that naturally awaits the sinner. It is thus the means of pacifying God, appeasing his anger, and gaining his favour again--with the consequent possibility of readmission into the Church. I say the _possibility_, for readmission does not always follow. Participation in the future kingdom may be hoped for even by him who in this world is shut out from full citizenship and merely remains in the ranks of the penitent. In all probability then it still continued the rule for a person to remain till death in a state of penance or _exhomologesis_. For readmission continued to involve the assumption that the Church had in some way or other become _certain_ that God had forgiven the sinner, or in other words that she had power to grant this forgiveness in virtue of the Spirit dwelling in her, and that this readmission therefore involved no violation of her holiness." In such instances it is first prophets and then martyrs that appear as organs of the Spirit, till at last it is no longer the inspired Christian, but the professional medium of the Spirit, viz., the priest, who decides everything.] [Footnote 228: In the 2nd century even endeavours at a formal repetition of baptism were not wholly lacking. In Marcionite congregations repetition of baptism is said to have taken place (on the Elkesaites see Vol. I. p. 308). One can only wonder that there is not more frequent mention of such attempts. The assertion of Hippolytus (Philos. IX. 12 fin.) is enigmatical: [Greek: Epi Kallistou protô tetolmêtai deuteron autois baptisma].] [Footnote 229: See Tertull., de pudic. 12: "hinc est quod neque idololatriæ neque sanguini pax ab ecclesiis redditur." Orig., de orat. 28 fin; c. Cels. III. 50.] [Footnote 230: It is only of whoremongers and idolaters that Tertullian expressly speaks in de pudic. c. I. We must interpret in accordance with this the following statement by Hippolytus in Philos. IX. 12: [Greek: Kallistos prôtos ta pros tas hêdonas tois anthrôpois synchôrein epenoêse, legôn pasin hup' autou aphiesthai hamartias]. The aim of this measure is still clear from the account of it given by Hippolytus, though this indeed is written in a hostile spirit. Roman Christians were then split into at least five different sects, and Calixtus left nothing undone to break up the unfriendly parties and enlarge his own. In all probability, too, the energetic bishop met with a certain measure of success. From Euseb., H. E. IV. 23. 6, one might be inclined to conclude that, even in Marcus Aurelius' time, Dionysius of Corinth had issued lax injunctions similar to those of Calixtus. But it must not be forgotten that we have nothing but Eusebius' report; and it is just in questions of this kind that his accounts are not reliable.] [Footnote 231: No doubt persecutions were practically unknown in the period between 220 and 260.] [Footnote 232: See Cypr., de lapsis.] [Footnote 233: What scruples were caused by this innovation is shown by the first 40 letters in Cyprian's collection. He himself had to struggle with painful doubts.] [Footnote 234: Apart from some epistles of Cyprian, Socrates, H. E. V. 22, is our chief source of information on this point. See also Conc. Illib. can. 1, 2, 6-8, 12, 17, 18-47, 70-73, 75.] [Footnote 235: See my article "Novatian" in Herzog's Real-Encyklopädie, 2nd ed. One might be tempted to assume that the introduction of the practice of unlimited forgiveness of sins was an "evangelical reaction" against the merciless legalism which, in the case of the Gentile Church indeed, had established itself from the beginning. As a matter of fact the bishops and the laxer party appealed to the New Testament in justification of their practice. This had already been done by the followers of Calixtus and by himself. See Philos. IX. 12: [Greek: phaskontes Christon aphienai tois eudokousi]; Rom. XIV. 4 and Matt. XIII. 29 were also quoted. Before this Tertullian's opponents who favoured laxity had appealed exactly in the same way to numerous Bible texts, e.g., Matt. X. 23: XI. 19 etc., see de monog, de pudic., de ieiun. Cyprian is also able to quote many passages from the Gospels. However, as the bishops and their party did not modify their conception of baptism, but rather maintained in principle, as before, that baptism imposes only obligations for the future, the "evangelical reaction" must not be estimated very highly; (see below, p. 117, and my essay in the Zeitschrift fur Theologie und Kirche, Vol. I., "Die ehre von der Seligkeit allein durch den Glauben in der alten Kirche.")] [Footnote 236: The distinction of sins committed against God himself, as we find it in Tertullian, Cyprian, and other Fathers, remains involved in an obscurity that I cannot clear up.] [Footnote 237: Cyprian never expelled any one from the Church, unless he had attacked the authority of the bishops, and thus in the opinion of this Father placed himself outside her pale by his own act.] [Footnote 238: Hippol., Philos. IX. 12: [Greek: Kai parabolên tôn zizaniôn pros touto ephê ho Kallistos legesthai. Aphete ta zizania sunauxein tô sitô, toutestin en tê ekklêsia tous hamartanontas. Alla kai tên kibôton tou Nôe eis homoiôma ekklêsias ephê gegonenai, en hê kai kunes kai lykoi kai korakes kai panta ta kathara kai akatharta; houtô phaskôn dein einai en ekklêsia homoiôs, kai hosa pros touto dynatos ên synagein houtôs hêrmêneusen.] From Tertull., de idolol. 24, one cannot help assuming that even before the year 200 the laxer sort in Carthage had already appealed to the Ark. ("Viderimus si secundum arcæ typum et corvus et milvus et lupus et canis et serpens in ecclesia erit. Certe idololatres in arcæ typo non habetur. Quod in arca non fuit, in ecclesia non sit"). But we do not know what form this took and what inferences they drew. Moreover, we have here a very instructive example of the multitudinous difficulties in which the Fathers were involved by typology: the Ark is the Church, hence the dogs and snakes are men. To solve these problems it required an abnormal degree of acuteness and wit, especially as each solution always started fresh questions. Orig. (Hom. II. in Genes. III.) also viewed the Ark as the type of the Church (the working out of the image in Hom. I. in Ezech., Lomm. XIV. p. 24 sq., is instructive); but apparently in the wild animals he rather sees the simple Christians who are not yet sufficiently trained--at any rate he does not refer to the whoremongers and adulterers who must be tolerated in the Church. The Roman bishop Stephen again, positively insisted on Calixtus' conception of the Church, whereas Cornelius followed Cyprian (see Euseb., H. E. VI. 43. 10), who never declared sinners to be a necessary part of the Church in the same fashion as Calixtus did. (See the following note and Cyp., epp. 67. 6; 68. 5).] [Footnote 239: Philos., l.c.: [Greek: Kallistos edogmatisen hopôs ei episkopos hamartoi ti, ei kai pros thanaton, mê dein katatithesthai]. That Hippolytus is not exaggerating here is evident from Cyp., epp. 67, 68; for these passages make it very probable that Stephen also assumed the irremovability of a bishop on account of gross sins or other failings.] [Footnote 240: See Cypr., epp. 65, 66, 68; also 55. 11.] [Footnote 241: This is asserted by Cyprian in epp. 65. 4 and 67. 3; but he even goes on to declare that everyone is polluted that has fellowship with an impure priest, and takes part in the offering celebrated by him.] [Footnote 242: On this point the greatest uncertainty prevails in Cyprian. Sometimes he says that God himself installs the bishops, and it is therefore a deadly sin against God to criticise them (e.g., in ep. 66. 1); on other occasions he remembers that the bishops have been ordained by bishops; and again, as in ep. 67. 3, 4, he appears to acknowledge the community's right to choose and control them. Cf. the sections referring to Cyprian in Reuter's "Augustinische Studien" (Zeitschrift für Kirchengeschichte, Vol. VII., p. 199 ff.).] [Footnote 243: The Donatists were quite justified in appealing to Cyprian, that is, in one of his two aspects.] [Footnote 244: Origen not only distinguishes between different groups within the Church as judged by their spiritual understanding and moral development (Comm. in Matt. Tom. XI. at Chap. XV. 29; Hom. II. in Genes. Chap. 3; Hom. in Cantic. Tom. I. at Chap. I. 4: "ecclesia una quidem est, cum perfecta est; multæ vero sunt adolescentulæ, cum adhuc instruuntur et proficiunt"; Hom. III. in Levit. Chap. iii.), but also between spiritual and carnal members (Hom. XXVI. in Num. Chap. vii.) i.e., between true Christians and those who only bear that name without heartfelt faith--who outwardly take part in everything, but bring forth fruits neither in belief nor conduct. Such Christians he as little views as belonging to the Church as does Clement of Alexandria (see Strom. VII. 14. 87, 88). To him they are like the Jebusites who were left in Jerusalem: they have no part in the promises of Christ, but are lost (Comm. in Matt. T. XII. c. xii.). It is the Church's task to remove such members, whence we see that Origen was far from sharing Calixtus' view of the Church as a _corpus permixtum_; but to carry out this process so perfectly that only the holy and the saved remain is a work beyond the powers of human sagacity. One must therefore content oneself with expelling notorious sinners; see Hom. XXI. in Jos., c. i.: "sunt qui ignobilem et degenerem vitam ducunt, qui et fide et actibus et omni conversatione sua perversi sunt. Neque enim possibile est, ad liquidum purgari ecclesiam, dum in terris est, ita ut neque impius in ea quisquam, neque peccator residere videatur, sed sint in ea omnes sancti et beati, et in quibus nulla prorsus peccati macula deprehendatur. Sed sicut dicitur de zizaniis: Ne forte eradicantes zizania simul eradicetis et triticum, ita etiam super iis dici potest, in quibus vel dubia vel occulta peccata sunt.... Eos saltem eiiciamus quos possumus, quorum peccata manifesta sunt. Ubi enim peccatum non est evidens, eiicere de ecclesia neminem possumus." In this way indeed very many wicked people remain in the Church (Comm. in Matt. T. X. at c. xiii. 47 f.: [Greek: mê xenizometha, ean horômen hêmôn ta athroismata peplêrômena kai ponêrôn]); _but in his work against Celsus Origen already propounded that empiric and relative theory of the Christian Churches which views them as simply "better" than the societies and civic communities existing alongside of them_. The 29th and 30th chapters of the 3rd book against Celsus, in which he compares the Christians with the other population of Athens, Corinth, and Alexandria, and the heads of congregations with the councillors and mayors of these cities, are exceedingly instructive and attest the revolution of the times. In conclusion, however, we must point out that Origen expressly asserts that a person unjustly excommunicated remains a member of the Church in God's eyes; see Hom. XIV. in Levit. c. iii.: "ita fit, ut interdum ille qui foras mittitur intussit, et ille foris, qui intus videtur retineri." Döllinger (Hippolytus and Calixtus, page 254 ff.) has correctly concluded that Origen followed the disputes between Hippolytus and Calixtus in Rome, and took the side of the former. Origen's trenchant remarks about the pride and arrogance of the bishops of large towns (in Matth. XI. 9. 15; XII. 9-14; XVI. 8. 22 and elsewhere, e.g., de orat. 28, Hom. VI. in Isai c. i., in Joh. X. 16), and his denunciation of such of them as, in order to glorify God, assume a mere distinction of names between Father and Son, are also correctly regarded by Langen as specially referring to the Roman ecclesiastics (Geschichte der römischen Kirche I. p. 242). Thus Calixtus was opposed by the three greatest theologians of the age--Tertullian, Hippolytus, and Origen.] [Footnote 245: If, in assuming the irremovability of a bishop even in case of mortal sin, the Roman bishops went beyond Cyprian, Cyprian drew from his conception of the Church a conclusion which the former rejected, viz., the invalidity of baptism administered by non-Catholics. Here, in all likelihood, the Roman bishops were only determined by their interest in smoothing the way to a return or admission to the Church in the case of non-Catholics. In this instance they were again induced to adhere to their old practice from a consideration of the catholicity of the Church. It redounds to Cyprian's credit that he drew and firmly maintained the undeniable inferences from his own theory in spite of tradition. The matter never led to a great _dogmatic_ controversy.] [Footnote 246: As to the events during the vacancy in the Roman see immediately before Novatian's schism, and the part then played by the latter, who was still a member of the Church, see my essay: "Die Briefe des römischen Klerus aus der Zeit. der Sedisvacanz im Jahre 250" (Abhandl. f. Weizsäcker, 1892).] [Footnote 247: So far as we are able to judge, Novatian himself did not extend the severer treatment to all gross sinners (see ep. 55. 26, 27); but only decreed it in the case of the lapsed. It is, however, very probable that in the later Novatian Churches no mortal sinner was absolved (see, e.g., Socrates, H. E. I. 10). The statement of Ambrosius (de pænit. III. 3) that Novatian made no difference between gross and lesser sins and equally refused forgiveness to transgressors of every kind distorts the truth as much as did the old reproach laid to his charge, viz., that he as "a Stoic" made no distinction between sins. Moreover, in excluding gross sinners, Novatian's followers did not mean to abandon them, but to leave them under the discipline and intercession of the Church.] [Footnote 248: The title of the evangelical life (evangelical perfection, imitation of Christ) in contrast to that of ordinary Catholic Christians, a designation which we first find among the Encratites (see Vol. I. p. 237, note 3) and Marcionites (see Tertull., adv. Marc. IV. 14: "Venio nunc ad ordinarias sententias Marcionis, per quas proprietatem doctrinæ suæ inducit ad edictum, ut ita dixerim, Christi, Beati mendici etc."), and then in Tertullian (in his pre-Montanist period, see ad mart., de patient., de pænit., de idolol.; in his later career, see de coron. 8, 9, 13, 14; de fuga 8, 13; de ieiun. 6, 8, 15; de monog. 3, 5, 11; see Aubé, Les Chrétiens dans l'empire Romain de la fin des Antonins, 1881, p. 237 ff.: "Chrétiens intransigeants et Chrétiens opportunistes") was expressly claimed by Novatian (Cypr., ep. 44. 3: "si Novatiani se adsertores evangelii et Christi esse confitentur"; 46. 2: "nec putetis, sic vos evangelium Christi adserere"). Cornelius in Eusebius, H. E. VI. 43. II calls Novatian: [Greek: ho ekdikêtês tou euangeliou]. This is exceedingly instructive, and all the more so when we note that, even as far back as the end of the second century, it was not the "evangelical," but the lax, who declared the claims of the Gospel to be satisfied if they kept God in their hearts, but otherwise lived in entire conformity with the world. See Tertullian, de spec. 1; de pænit. 5: "Sed aiunt quidam, satis deum habere, si corde et animo suspiciatur, licet actu minus fiat; itaque se salvo metu et fide peccare, hoc est salva castitate matrimonia violare etc.": de ieiun. 2: "Et scimus, quales sint carnalium commodorum suasoriæ, quam facile dicatur: Opus est de totis præcordiis credam, diligam deum et proximum tanquam me. In his enim duobus præceptis tota lex pendet et prophetæ, non in pulmonum et intestinorum meorum inanitate." The Valentinian Heracleon was similarly understood, see above Vol. I. p. 262.] [Footnote 249: Tertullian (de pud. 22) had already protested vigorously against such injustice.] [Footnote 250: From Socrates' Ecclesiastical History we can form a good idea of the state of the Novatian communities in Constantinople and Asia Minor. On the later history of the Catharist Church see my article "Novatian," l.c., 667 ff. The most remarkable feature of this history is the amalgamation of Novatian's adherents in Asia Minor with the Montanists and the absence of distinction between their manner of life and that of the Catholics. In the 4th century of course the Novatians were nevertheless very bitterly attacked.] [Footnote 251: This indeed was disputed by Hippolytus and Origen.] [Footnote 252: This last conclusion was come to after painful scruples, particularly in the East--as we may learn from the 6th and 7th books of Eusebius' Ecclesiastical History. For a time the majority of the Oriental bishops adopted an attitude favourable to Novatian and unfavourable to Cornelius and Cyprian. Then they espoused the cause of the latter, though without adopting the milder discipline in all cases (see the canons of Ancyra and Neocæsarea IV. sæc. init.). Throughout the East the whole question became involved in confusion, and was not decided in accordance with clear principles. In giving up the last remnant of her exclusiveness (the canons of Elvira are still very strict while those of Arles are lax), the Church became "Catholic" in quite a special sense, in other words, she became a community where everyone could find his place, provided he submitted to certain regulations and rules. Then, and not till then, was the Church's pre-eminent importance for society and the state assured. It was no longer variance, and no longer the sword (Matt. X. 34, 35), but peace and safety that she brought; she was now capable of becoming an educative or, since there was little more to educate in the older society, a conservative power. At an earlier date the Apologists (Justin, Melito, Tertullian himself) had already extolled her as such, but it was not till now that she really possessed this capacity. Among Christians, first the Encratites and Marcionites, next the adherents of the new prophecy, and lastly the Novatians had by turns opposed the naturalisation of their religion in the world and the transformation of the Church into a political commonwealth. Their demands had progressively become less exacting, whence also their internal vigour had grown ever weaker. But, in view of the continuous secularising of Christendom, the Montanist demands at the beginning of the 3rd century already denoted no less than those of the Encratites about the middle of the second, and no more than those of the Novatians about the middle of the third. The Church resolutely declared war on all these attempts to elevate evangelical perfection to an inflexible law for all, and overthrew her opponents. She pressed on in her world-wide mission and appeased her conscience by allowing a twofold morality within her bounds. Thus she created the conditions which enabled the ideal of evangelical perfection to be realised in her own midst, in the form of monasticism, without threatening her existence. "What is monasticism but an ecclesiastical institution that makes it possible to separate oneself from the world and to remain in the Church, to separate oneself from the outward Church without renouncing her, to set oneself apart for purposes of sanctification and yet to claim the highest rank among her members, to form a brotherhood and yet to further the interests of the Church?" In succeeding times great Church movements, such as the Montanist and Novatian, only succeeded in attaining local or provincial importance. See the movement at Rome at the beginning of the 4th century, of which we unfortunately know so little (Lipsius, Chronologie der römischen Bischofe, pp. 250-255), the Donatist Revolution, and the Audiani in the East.] [Footnote 253: It is a characteristic circumstance that Tertullian's de ieiun. does _not_ assume that the great mass of Christians possess an actual knowledge of the Bible.] [Footnote 254: The condition of the constitution of the Church about the middle of the 3rd century (in accordance with Cyprian's epistles) is described by Otto Ritschl, l.c., pp. 142-237. Parallels to the provincial and communal constitution of secular society are to be found throughout.] [Footnote 255: To how great an extent the Church in Decius' time was already a state within the state is shown by a piece of information given in Cyprian's 55th epistle (c. 9.): "Cornelius sedit intrepidus Romæ in sacerdotali cathedra eo tempore: cum tyrannus infestus sacerdotibus dei fanda adque infanda comminaretur, cum multo patientius et tolerabilius audiret levari adversus se æmulum principem quam constitui Romæ dei sacerdotem." On the other hand the legislation with regard to Christian flamens adopted by the Council of Elvira, which, as Duchesne (Mélanges Renier: Le Concile d'Elvire et les flamines chrétiens, 1886) has demonstrated, most probably dates from before the Diocletian persecution of 300, shows how closely the discipline of the Church had already been adapted to the heathen regulations in the Empire. In addition to this there was no lack of syncretist systems within Christianity as early as the 3rd century (see the [Greek: Kestoi] of Julius Africanus, and other examples). Much information on this point is to be derived from Origen's works and also, in many respects, from the attitude of this author himself. We may also refer to relic- and hero-worship, the foundation of which was already laid in the 3rd century, though the "religion of the second order" did not become a recognised power in the Church or force itself into the official religion till the 4th.] [Footnote 256: See Tertullian's frightful accusations in de pudic. (10) and de ieiun. (fin) against the "Psychici", i.e., the Catholic Christians. He says that with them the saying had really come to signify "peccando promeremur," by which, however, he does not mean the Augustinian: "o felix culpa."] [Footnote 257: The relation of this Church to theology, what theology she required and what she rejected, and, moreover, to what extent she rejected the kind that she accepted may be seen by reference to chap. 5 ff. We may here also direct attention to the peculiar position of Origen in the Church as well as to that of Lucian the Martyr, concerning whom Alexander of Alexandria (Theoderet, H. E. I. 3) remarks that he was a [Greek: aposunagôgos] in Antioch for a long time, namely, during the rule of three successive bishops.] [Footnote 258: We have already referred to the passage above. On account of its importance we may quote it here: "According to Celsus Apollo required the Metapontines to regard Aristeas as a god; but in their eyes the latter was but a man and perhaps not a virtuous one ... They would therefore not obey Apollo, and thus it happened that no one believed in the divinity of Aristeas. But with regard to Jesus we may say that it proved a blessing to the human race to acknowledge him as the Son of God, as God who appeared on earth united with body and soul." Origen then says that the demons counterworked this belief, and continues: "But God who had sent Jesus on earth brought to nought all the snares and plots of the demons and aided in the victory of the Gospel of Jesus throughout the whole earth in order to promote the conversion and amelioration of men; and everywhere brought about the establishment of Churches which are ruled by other laws than those that regulate the Churches of the superstitious, the dissolute and the unbelieving. For of such people the civil population ([Greek: politeuomena en tais ekklêsiais tôn poleôn plêthê]) of the towns almost everywhere consists." [Greek: Hai de tou Theou Christô mathêteuthesai ekklêsiai, sunezetazomenai tais ôn paroikousi dêmôn ekklêsiais, hôs phôtêres eisin en kosmô. tis gar ouk an homologêsai, kai tous cheirous tôn apo tês ekklêsias kai sugkrisei beltionôn elattous pollô kreittous tugxhanein tôn en tois demois ekklêsiôn; ekklêsia men gar tou theou, pher' eipein, hê Athênaesi praeia tis kai eustathês, hate Theô areskein tô epi pasi boulomenê; hê d' Athênaiôn ekklêsia stasiôdês kai oudamôs paraballomenê tê ekei ekklêsia tou Theou; to d' auto ereis, peri ekklêsias tou Theou tês en Korinthô kai tês ekklêsias tou dêmon Korinthiôn; kai, pher' eipein, peri ekklêsias tou Theou tês en Alexandreia, kai ekklêsias tou Alexandreôn dêmou, kai ean eugnômôn hê ho toutou akouôn kai philalêthôs exetazê ta pragmata, thaumasetai ton kai bouleusamenon kai anousai dunêthenta pantachou sustêsasthai ekklêsias tou Theou, paroikousas ekklêsias tôn kath' 'ekastên polin dêmôn houtô de kai boulên ekklêsias Theou boulê tê kath' hekastên polin sunexetazôn heurois an hoti tines men tês ekklêsias bouleutai exioi eisi]--[Greek: ei tis estin en tô panti polis tou Theou]--[Greek: en ekeinê politeuesthai hoi de pantachou bouleutai ouden exion tês ek katataxeôs huperochês, hên huperechein dokousi tôn politôn, pherousin en tois heautôn êthesin; houtô de kai archonta ekklêsias hekastês poleôs archonti tôn en tê polei sugkroteon; hina katanoêsus, hoti kai epi tôn sphodra apotugchanomenoô bouletôn kai archontôn ekklêsias Theou, kai rhathumoteron para tous eutonôterôs biountas ouden êtton estin heurein hôs epipan huperochên tên en tê epi tas aretas prokopê para ta êthê tôn en tais polesi bouleutôn kai archontôn.]] [Footnote 259: Ritschl, Entstehung der altkatholischen Kirche pp. 362, 368, 394, 461, 555, 560, 576. Otto Ritschl, l.c., pp. 208, 218, 231. Hatch "Organisation of the early Christian Church," Lectures 5 and 6; id., Art. "Ordination," "Priest," in the Dictionary of Christian Antiquities. Hauck, Art. "Priester" in Herzog's Real-Encyklopädie, 2nd ed. Voigt, l.c., p. 175 ff. Sohm, Kirchenrecht I. p. 205 ff. Louw, Het ontstaan van het Priesterschap in de christ. Kerk, Utrecht, 1892.] [Footnote 260: Clement of Rome was the first to compare the conductors of public worship in Christian Churches with the priests and Levites, and the author of the [Greek: Didachê] was the first to liken the Christian prophets to the high priests. It cannot, however, be shown that there were any Christian circles where the leaders were directly styled "priests" before the last quarter of the 2nd century. We can by no means fall back on Ignatius, Philad. 9, nor on Iren., IV. 8. 3, which passage is rather to be compared with [Greek: Did.] 13. 3. It is again different in Gnostic circles, which in this case, too, anticipated the secularising process: read for example the description of Marcus in Iren., I. 13. Here, _mutatis mutandis_, we have the later Catholic bishop, who alone is able to perform a mysterious sacrifice to whose person powers of grace are attached--the formula of bestowal was: [Greek: metadounai soi thelô tês emês charitos ... lambane ap' emou kai di' emou charin], and through whose instrumentality union with God can alone be attained: the [Greek: apolutrôsis] (I. 21.) is only conferred through the mystagogue. Much of a similar nature is to be found, and we can expressly say that the distinction between priestly mystagogues and laymen was of fundamental importance in many Gnostic societies (see also the writings of the Coptic Gnostics); it was different in the Marcionite Church. Tertullian (de bapt. 17) was the first to call the bishop "summus sacerdos," and the older opinion that he merely "played" with the idea is untenable, and refuted by Pseudo-Cyprian, de aleat. 2 ("sacerdotalis dignitas"). In his Antimontanist writings the former has repeatedly repudiated any distinction in principle of a particular priestly class among Christians, as well as the application of certain injunctions to this order (de exhort. 7: "nonne et laici sacerdotes sumus? ... adeo ubi ecclesiastici ordinis non est consessus, et offeis et tinguis et sacerdos es tibi solus, sed ubi tres, ecclesia est, licet laici."; de monog. 7). We may perhaps infer from his works that before about the year 200, the name "priest" was not yet universally applied to bishop and presbyters in Carthage (but see after this de præscr. 29, 41: sacerdotalia munera; de pud. 1, 21; de monog. 12: disciplina sacerd.; de exhort. 7: sacerdotalis ordo, ibid. 11 "et offeres pro duabus uxoribus, et commendabis illas duas per sacerdotem de monogamia ordinatum;" de virg. vel. 9: sacerdotale officium; Scorp. 7: sacerdos). The latest writings of Tertullian show us indeed that the name and the conception which it represents were already prevalent. Hippolytus (Philos. præf.: [Greek: hôn hêmeis diadochoi tugchanontes tês te autês charitos metechontes archierateias kai didaskalias], see also the Arabian canons) expressly claimed high priesthood for the bishops, and Origen thought he was justified in giving the name of "Priests and Levites" to those who conducted public worship among Christians. This he indeed did with reserve (see many passages, e.g., Hom. II. in Num., Vol. II. p. 278; Hom. VI. in Lev., Vol. II. p. 211; Comment, in Joh., Vol. I. 3), but yet to a far greater extent than Clement (see Bigg, l.c., p. 214 f.). In Cyprian and the literature of the Greek Church in the immediately following period we find the designation "priest" as the regular and most customary name for the bishop and presbyters. Novatian (Jerome, de vir. inl. 70) wrote a treatise _de sacerdote_ and another _de ordinatione_. The notable and momentous change of conception expressed in the idea can be traced by us through its preparatory stages almost as little as the theory of the apostolic succession of the bishops. Irenæus (IV. 8. 3, 17. 5, 18. 1) and Tertullian, when compared with Cyprian, appear here as representatives of primitive Christianity. They firmly assert the priesthood of the whole congregation. That the laity had as great a share as the leaders of the Churches in the transformation of the latter into Priests is moreover shown by the bitter saying of Tertullian (de monog. 12): "Sed cum extollimur et inflamur adversus clerum, tunc unum omnes sumus, tunc omnes sacerdotes, quia 'sacerdotes nos deo et patri fecit'. Cum ad peræquationem disciplinæ sacerdotalis provocamur, deponimus infulas."] [Footnote 261: See Sohm, I. p. 207.] [Footnote 262: The "deservire altari et sacrificia divina celebrare" (Cypr. ep. 67. 1) is the distinctive function of the _sacerdos dei_. It may further be said, however, that _all_ ceremonies of public worship properly belong to him, and Cyprian has moreover contrived to show that this function of the bishop as leader of the Church follows from his priestly attributes; for as priest the bishop is _antistes Christi_ (dei); see epp. 59. 18: 61. 2: 63. 14: 66. 5, and this is the basis of his right and duty to preserve the _lex evangelica_ and the _traditio dominica_ in every respect. As _antistes dei_ however, an attribute bestowed on the bishop by the apostolic succession and the laying on of hands, he has also received the power of the keys, which confers the right to judge in Christ's stead and to grant or refuse the divine grace. In Cyprian's conception of the episcopal office the _successio apostolica_ and the position of vicegerent of Christ (of God) counterbalance each other; he also tried to amalgamate both elements (ep. 55. 8: "cathedra sacerdotalis"). It is evident that as far as the inner life of each church was concerned, the latter and newer necessarily proved the more important feature. In the East, where the thought of the apostolical succession of the bishops never received such pronounced expression as in Rome it was just this latter element that was almost exclusively emphasised from the end of the 3rd century. Ignatius led the way when he compared the bishop, in his position towards the individual community, with God and Christ. He, however, is dealing in images, but at a later period the question is about realities based on a mysterious transference.] [Footnote 263: Soon after the creation of a professional priesthood, there also arose a class of inferior clergy. This was first the case in Rome. This development was not uninfluenced by the heathen priesthood, and the temple service (see my article in Texte und Untersuchungen II. 5). Yet Sohm, l.c., p. 128 ff., has disputed this, and proposed modifications, worth considering, in my view of the origin of the _ordines minores_.] [Footnote 264: Along with the sacerdotal laws, strictly so called, which Cyprian already understood to apply in a frightful manner (see his appeal to Deut. XVII. 12; 1 Sam. VIII. 7; Luke X. 16; John XVIII. 22 f.; Acts XXIII. 4-5 in epp. 3. 43, 59. 66), other Old Testament commandments could not fail to be introduced. Thus the commandment of tithes, which Irenæus had still asserted to be abolished, was now for the first time established (see Origen; Constit. Apost. and _my_ remarks on [Greek: Did]. c. 13); and hence Mosaic regulations as to ceremonial cleanness were adopted (see Hippol. Canones arab. 17; Dionys. Alex., ep. canon.). Constantine was the first to base the observance of Sunday on the commandment as to the Sabbath. Besides, the West was always more hesitating in this respect than the East. In Cyprian's time, however, the classification and dignity of the clergy were everywhere upheld by an appeal to Old Testament commandments, though reservations still continued to be made here and there.] [Footnote 265: Tertullian (de pud. I) sneeringly named the bishop of Rome "pontifex maximus," thereby proving that he clearly recognised the heathen colouring given to the episcopal office. With the picture of the bishop drawn by the Apostolic constitutions may be compared the ill-natured descriptions of Paul of Samosata in Euseb., VII. 30.] [Footnote 266: Yet this influence, in a direct form at least, can only be made out at a comparatively late period. But nevertheless, from the middle of the 3rd century the priests alone are possessed of knowledge. As [Greek: mathêsis] and [Greek: mystagôgia] are inseparably connected in the mysteries and Gnostic societies, and the mystagogue was at once knowing one and priest, so also in the Catholic Church the priest is accounted the knowing one. Doctrine itself became a mystery to an increasing extent.] [Footnote 267: Examples are found in epp. 1, 3, 4, 33, 43, 54, 57, 59, 65, 66. But see Iren., IV. 26. 2, who is little behind Cyprian here, especially when he threatens offenders with the fate of Dathan and Abiram. One of the immediate results of the formation of a priestly and spiritual class was that the independent "teachers" now shared the fate of the old "prophets" and became extinct (see my edition of the [Greek: Didachê], prolegg. pp. 131-137). It is an instructive fact that Theoktistus of Cæsarea and Alexander of Jerusalem in order to prove in opposition to Demetrius that independent teachers were still tolerated, i.e., allowed to speak in public meetings of the Church, could only appeal to the practice of Phrygia and Lycaonia, that is, to the habit of outlying provinces where, besides, Montanism had its original seat. Euelpis in Laranda, Paulinus in Iconium, and Theodorus in Synnada, who flourished about 216, are in addition to Origen the last independent teachers (i.e., outside the ranks of the clergy) known to us in Christendom (Euseb., H. E. VI. 19 fin.).] [Footnote 268: See Döllinger, Die Lehre von der Eucharistie in den ersten drei Jahrhunderten, 1826. Höfling, Die Lehre der ältesten Kirche vom Opfer, p. 71 ff. Th. Harnack, Der christliche Gemeindegottesdienst im apostolischen und altkatholischen Zeitalter, p. 342 ff. Steitz, Art. "Messe" in Herzog's Real-Encyklopädie, 2nd ed. It is idle to enquire whether the conception of the "sacerdotium" or that of the "sacrificium" was first altered, because they are correlative ideas.] [Footnote 269: See the proof passages in Höfling, l.c., who has also treated in detail Clement and Origen's idea of sacrifice, and cf. the beautiful saying of Irenæus IV. 18. 3: "Non sacrificia sanctificant hominem; non enim indiget sacrificio deus; sed conscientia eius qui offert sanctificat sacrificium, pura exsistens, et præstat acceptare deum quasi ab amico" (on the offering in the Lord's Supper see Iren. IV. 17. 5, 18. 1); Tertull., Apolog. 30; de orat. 28; adv. Marc. III. 22; IV. 1, 35: adv. Jud. 5; de virg. vel. 13.] [Footnote 270: Cf. specially the Montanist writings; the treatise _de ieiunio_ is the most important among them in this case; see cc. 7, 16; de resurr. 8. On the use of the word "satisfacere" and the new ideas on the point which arose in the West (cf. also the word "meritum") see below chap. 5. 2 and the 2nd chap. of the 5th Vol. Note that the 2nd Ep. of Clement already contains the sayings: [Greek: kalon eleêmounê hôs metanoia hamartias kreissôn nêsteia proseuchês, eleêmosunê de amphoterôn ... eleêmosunê gar kouphisma hamartias ginetai] (16. 4; similar expressions occur in the "Shepherd"). But they only show how far back we find the origin of these injunctions borrowed from Jewish proverbial wisdom. One cannot say that they had no effect at all on Christian life in the 2nd century; but we do not yet find the idea that ascetic performances are a sacrifice offered to a wrathful God. Martyrdom seems to have been earliest viewed as a performance which expiated sins. In Tertullian's time the theory, that it was on a level with baptism (see Melito, 12. Fragment in Otto, Corp. Apol. IX. p. 418: [Greek: duo sunestê ta aphesin amartêmata parechomena, pathos dia Christon kai baptisma]), had long been universally diffused and was also exegetically grounded. In fact, men went a step further and asserted that the merits of martyrs could also benefit others. This view had likewise become established long before Tertullian's day, but was opposed by him (de pudic 22), when martyrs abused the powers universally conceded to them. Origen went furthest here; see exhort. ad mart. 50: [Greek: hôsper timiô haimati tou Iêsou êgorasthêmen ... houtôs tô timiô haimati tôn marturôn agorasthêsontai tines]; Hom. X. in Num. c. II.: "ne forte, ex quo martyres non fiunt et hostiæ sanctorum non offeruntur pro peccatis nostris, peccatorum nostrorum remissionem non mereamur." The origin of this thought is, on the one hand, to be sought for in the wide-spread notion that the sufferings of an innocent man benefit others, and, on the other, in the belief that Christ himself suffered in the martyrs (see, e.g., ep. Lugd. in Euseb., H. E. V. 1. 23, 41).] [Footnote 271: In the East it was Origen who introduced into Christianity the rich treasure of ancient ideas that had become associated with sacrifices. See Bigg's beautiful account in "The Christian Platonists of Alexandria," Lect. IV.-VI.] [Footnote 272: Moreover, Tertullian (Scorp. 6) had already said: "Quomodo multæ mansiones apud patrem, si non pro varietate meritorum."] [Footnote 273: See c. 1: "Nam cum dominus adveniens sanasset illa, quæ Adam portaverit vulnera et venena serpentis antiqua curasset, legem dedit sano et præcepit, ne ultra iam peccaret, ne quid peccanti gravius eveniret: coartati eramus et in augustum innocentiæ præscriptione conclusi, nec haberet quid fragilitatis humanæ infirmitas adque imbecillitas faceret, nisi iterum pietas divina subveniens iustitiæ et misericordiæ operibus ostensis viam quandam tuendæ salutis aperiret, ut sordes postmodum quascumque contrahimus eleemosynis abluamus." c. 2: "sicut lavacro aquæ salutaris gehennæ ignis extinguitur, ita eleemosynis adque operationibus iustus delictorum flamma sopitur, et quia semel in baptismo remissa peccatorum datur, adsidua et iugis operatic baptismi instar imitata dei rursus indulgentiam largiatur." 5, 6, 9. In c. 18 Cyprian already established an arithmetical relation between the number of alms-offerings and the blotting out of sins, and in c. 21, in accordance with an ancient idea which Tertullian and Minucius Felix, however, only applied to martyrdom, he describes the giving of alms as a spectacle for God and Christ. In Cyprian's epistles "satisfacere deo" is exceedingly frequent. It is almost still more important to note the frequent use of the expression "promereri deum (iudicem)" in Cyprian. See de unitate 15: "iustitia opus est, ut promereri quis possit deum iudicem: præceptis eius et monitis obtemperandum est, ut accipiant merita nostra mercedem." 18; de lapsis 31; de orat. 8, 32, 36; de mortal. 10; de op. 11, 14, 15, 26; de bono pat. 18; ep. 62. 2: 73. 10. Here it is everywhere assumed that Christians acquire God's favour by their works.] [Footnote 274: Baptism with blood is not referred to here.] [Footnote 275: With modifications, this has still continued to be the case beyond Augustine's time down to the Catholicism of the present day. Cyprian is the father of the Romish doctrine of good works and sacrifice. Yet is it remarkable that he was not yet familiar with the theory according to which man _must_ acquire _merita_. In his mind "merits" and "blessedness" are not yet rigidly correlated ideas; but the rudiments of this view are also found in him; cf. de unit. 15 (see p. 134, note 3).] [Footnote 276: "Sacrificare," "sacrificium celebrare," in all passages where they are unaccompanied by any qualifying words, mean to celebrate the Lord's Supper. Cyprian has never called prayer a "sacrifice" without qualifying terms; on the contrary he collocates "preces" and "sacrificium," and sometimes also "oblatio" and "sacrificium." The former is then the offering of the laity and the latter of the priests.] [Footnote 277: Cf. the whole 63rd epistle and above all c. 7: "Et quia passionis eius mentionem in sacrificiis omnibus facimus, passio est enim domini sacrificium quod offerrimus, nihil aliud quam quod ille fecit facere debemus;" c. 9.: "unde apparet sanguinem Christi non offerri, si desit vinum calici." 13; de unit. 17: "dominicæ hostiæ veritatem per falsa sacrificia profanare;" ep. 63. 4: "sacramentum sacrificii dominici." The transference of the sacrificial idea to the consecrated elements, which, in all probability, Cyprian already found in existence, is ultimately based on the effort to include the element of mystery and magic in the specifically sacerdotal ceremony of sacrifice, and to make the Christian offering assume, though not visibly, the form of a bloody sacrifice, such as secularised Christianity desired. This transference, however, was the result of two causes. The first has been already rightly stated by Ernesti (Antimur. p. 94) in the words: "quia eucharistia habet [Greek: anamnêsin] Christi mortui et sacrificii eius in cruce peracti, propter ea paullatim coepta est tota eucharistia sacrificium dici." In Cyprian's 63rd epistle it is still observable how the "calicem in commemorationem domini et passionis eius offerre" passes over into the "sanguinem Christi offerre," see also Euseb. demonstr. I. 13: [Greek: mnêmên tês thysias Christou prospherein] and [Greek: tên ensarkon tou Christou parousian kai to katartisthen autou sôma prospherein]. The other cause has been specially pointed out by Theodore Harnack (l.c., p. 409 f.). In ep. 63. 2 and in many other passages Cyprian expresses the thought "that in the Lord's Supper nothing else is done _by_ us but what the Lord has first done _for_ us." But he says that at the institution of the Supper the Lord first offered himself as a sacrifice to God the Father. Consequently the priest officiating in Christ's stead only presents a true and perfect offering when he imitates what Christ has done (c. 14: "si Christus Jesus dominus et deus noster ipse est summus sacerdos dei patris et sacrificiam patri se ipsum obtulit et hoc fieri in sui commemorationem præcepit, utique ille sacerdos vice Christi vere fungitur, qui id quod Christus fecit imitatur et sacrificium verum et plenum tunc offert in ecclesia deo patri, si sic incipiat offerre secundum quod ipsum Christum videat obtulisse"). This brings us to the conception of the repetition of Christ's sacrifice by the priest. But in Cyprian's case it was still, so to speak, only a notion verging on that idea, that is, he only leads up to it, abstains from formulating it with precision, or drawing any further conclusions from it, and even threatens the idea itself inasmuch as he still appears to conceive the "calicem in commemorationem domini et passionis eius offerre" as identical with it. As far as the East is concerned we find in Origen no trace of the assumption of a repeated sacrifice of Christ. But in the original of the first 6 books of the Apostolic Constitutions this conception is also wanting, although the Supper ceremonial has assumed an exclusively sacerdotal character (see II. 25: [Greek: hai tote] (in the old covenant) [Greek: thusiai, nun euchai kai deêseis kai eucharistiai]. II. 53). The passage VI. 23: [Greek: anti thusias tês di' haimatôn tên logikên kai anaimakton kai tên mustikên, hêtis eis ton thanaton tou kuriou symbolôn charin epiteleitai tou sômatos autou kai tou haimatos] does not belong to the original document, but to the interpolator. With the exception therefore of one passage in the Apostolic Church order (printed in my edition of the Didache prolegg. p. 236) viz.: [Greek: hê prosphora tou sômatos kai tou haimatos], we possess no proofs that there was any mention in the East before Eusebius' time of a sacrifice of Christ's body in the Lord's Supper. From this, however, we must by no means conclude that the mystic feature in the celebration of the sacrifice had been less emphasised there.] [Footnote 278: In ep. 63. 13 Cyprian has illustrated the incorporation of the community with Christ by the mixture of wine and water in the Supper, because the special aim of the epistle required this: "Videmus in aqua populum intellegi, in vino vero ostendi sanguinem Christi; quando autem in calice vino aqua miscetur, Christo populus adunatur et credentium plebs ei in quem credidit copulatur et iungitur etc." The special mention of the offerers (see already Tertullian's works: de corona 3, de exhort. cast. II, and de monog. 10) therefore means that the latter commend themselves to Christ as his own people, or are recommended to him as such. On the Praxis see Cyprian ep. I. 2 "... si quis hoc fecisset. non offerretur pro eo nee sacrificium pro dormitione eius celebraretur;" 62. 5: "ut fratres nostros in mente habeatis orationibus vestris et eis vicem boni operis in sacrificiis et precibus repræsentetis, subdidi nomina singulorum."] [Footnote 279: Much as the use of the word "sacramentum" in the Western Church from Tertullian to Augustine (Hahn, Die Lehre von den Sacramenten, 1864, p. 5 ff.) differs from that in the classic Romish use it is of small interest in the history of dogma to trace its various details. In the old Latin Bible [Greek: mystêrion] was translated "sacramentum" and thus the new signification "mysterious, holy ordinance or thing" was added to the meaning "oath," "sacred obligation." Accordingly Tertullian already used the word to denote sacred facts, mysterious and salutary signs and vehicles, and also holy acts. Everything in any way connected with the Deity and his revelation, and therefore, for example, the content of revelation as doctrine, is designated "sacrament;" and the word is also applied to the symbolical which is always something mysterious and holy. Alongside of this the old meaning "sacred obligation" still remains in force. If, because of this comprehensive use, further discussion of the word is unnecessary, the fact that revelation itself as well as everything connected with it was expressly designated as a "mystery" is nevertheless of importance in the history of dogma. This usage of the word is indeed not removed from the original one so long as it was merely meant to denote the supernatural origin and supernatural nature of the objects in question; but more than this was now intended; "sacramentum" ([Greek: mystêrion]) was rather intended to represent the holy thing that was revealed as something relatively concealed. This conception, however, is opposed to the Judæo-Christian idea of revelation, and is thus to be regarded as an introduction of the Greek notion. Probst (Sacramente und Sacramentalia, 1872) thinks differently. That which is mysterious and dark appears to be such an essential attribute of the divine, that even the obscurities of the New Testament Scriptures were now justified because these writings were regarded as altogether "spiritual." See Iren. II. 28. 1-3. Tert. de bapt. 2: "deus in stultitia et impossibilitate materias operationis suæ instituit."] [Footnote 280: We have explained above that the Church already possessed this means of grace, in so far as she had occasionally absolved mortal sinners, even at an earlier period; but this possession was quite uncertain and, strictly speaking, was not a possession at all, for in such cases the early Church merely followed extraordinary directions of the Spirit.] [Footnote 281: Höfling, Das Sacrament der Taufe, 2 Vols., 1846. Steitz, Art. "Taufe" in Herzog's Real-Encyklopädie. Walch, Hist. pædobaptismi quattuor priorum sæculorum, 1739.] [Footnote 282: In de bono pudic. 2: "renati ex aqua et pudicitia," Pseudo-Cyprian expresses an idea, which, though remarkable, is not confined to himself.] [Footnote 283: But Tertullian says (de bapt. 6): "Non quod in aquis spiritum sanctum consequamur, sed in aqua emundati sub angelo spiritui sancto præparamur."] [Footnote 284: The disquisitions of Clement of Alexandria in Pædag. I, 6 (baptism and sonship) are very important, but he did not follow them up. It is deserving of note that the positive effects of baptism were more strongly emphasised in the East than in the West. But, on the other hand, the conception is more uncertain in the former region.] [Footnote 285: See Tertullian, de bapt. 7 ff.; Cypr., ep. 70. 2 ("ungi quoque necesse est eum qui baptizatus est, ut accepto chrismate, i.e., unctione esse unctus dei et habere in se gratiam Christi possit"), 74. 5 etc. "Chrism" is already found in Tertullian as well as the laying on of hands. The Roman Catholic bishop Cornelius in the notorious epistle to Fabius (Euseb., H. E. VI. 43. 15), already traces the rites which accompany baptism to an ecclesiastical canon (perhaps one from Hippolytus' collection: see can. arab. 19). After relating that Novatian in his illness had only received clinical baptism he writes: [Greek: ou mên oude tôn loipôn etuche, diaphugôn tên noson, hôn chrê metalambanein kata ton tês ekklêsias kanona, tou te sphragisthênai hupo tou episkopou.] It is also remarkable that one of the bishops who voted about heretic baptism (Sentent. episcop., Cypr., opp. ed. Hartel I. p. 439) calls the laying on of hands a sacrament like baptism: "neque enim spiritus sine aqua separatim operari potest nec aqua sine spiritu male ergo sibi quidem interpretantur ut dicant, quod per manus impositionem spiritum sanctum accipiant et sic recipiantur, cum manifestum sit _utroque sacramento_ debere eos renasci in ecclesia catholica." Among other particulars found in Tertullian's work on baptism (cc. I. 12 seq.) it may moreover be seen that there were Christians about the year 200, who questioned the indispensability of baptism to salvation (baptismus non est necessarius, quibus fides satis est). The assumption that martyrdom replaces baptism (Tertull., de bapt. 16; Origen), is in itself a sufficient proof that the ideas of the "sacrament" were still uncertain. As to the objection that Jesus himself had not baptised and that the Apostles had not received Christian baptism see Tert., de bapt. 11, 12.] [Footnote 286: In itself the performance of this rite seemed too simple to those who sought eagerly for mysteries. See Tertull., de bapt. 2: "Nihil adeo est quod obduret mentes hominum quam simplicitas divinorum operum, quæ in actu videtur, et magnificentia, quæ in effecta repromittitur, ut hinc quoque, quoniam tanta simplicitate, sine pompa, sine apparatu novo aliquo, denique sine sumptu homo in aqua demissus et inter pauca verba tinctus non multo vel nihilo mundior resurgit, eo incredibilis existimetur consecutio æternitatis. Mentior, si non e contrario idolorum solemnia vel arcana de suggestu et apparatu deque sumptu fidem at auctoritatem sibi exstruunt."] [Footnote 287: But see Euseb., H. E. VI. 43. 15, who says that only the laying on of hands on the part of the bishop communicates the Holy Spirit, and this ceremony _must_ therefore follow baptism. It is probable that confirmation as a specific act did not become detached from baptism in the West till shortly before the middle of the third century. Perhaps we may assume that the Mithras cult had an influence here.] [Footnote 288: See Tertullian's superstitious remarks in de bap. 3-9 to the effect that water is the element of the Holy Spirit and of unclean Spirits etc. Melito also makes a similar statement in the fragment of his treatise on baptism in Pitra, Anal, Sacra II., p. 3 sq. Cyprian, ep. 70. I, uses the remarkable words: "oportet veio mundari et sanctificari aquam prius a _sacer dote_ (Tertull. still knows nothing of this: c. 17: etiam laicis ius est), ut possit baptismo suo peccata hominis qui baptizatur abluere." Ep. 74. 5: "peccata purgare et hominem sanctificare aqua sola non potest, nisi habeat et spiritum sanctum." Clem. Alex. Protrept. 10.99: [Greek: labete hudôr logikos].] [Footnote 289: It was easy for Origen to justify child baptism, as he recognised something sinful in corporeal birth itself, and believed in sin which had been committed in a former life. The earliest justification of child baptism may therefore be traced back to a philosophical doctrine.] [Footnote 290: _Translator's note._ The following is the original Latin, as quoted by Prof. Harnack: "Cunctatio baptismi utilior est, præcipue circa parvulos. Quid enim necesse, sponsores etiam periculo ingeri ... veniant ergo parvuli, dum adolescunt; veniant dum discunt, dum quo veniant docentur; fiant Christiani, cum Christum nosse potuerint. Quid festinat innocens ætas ad remissionem peccatorum? Cautius agetur in sæcularibus, ut cui substantia terrena non creditur, divina credatur ... Si qui pondus intelligant baptismi, magis timebunt consecutionem quam dilationem."] [Footnote 291: Under such circumstances the recollection of the significance of baptism in the establishment of the Church fell more and more into the background (see Hermas: "the Church rests like the world upon water;" Irenæus III. 17. 2: "Sicut de arido tritico massa una non fieri potest sine humore neque unus panis, ita nec nos multi unum fieri in Christo Iesu poteramus sine aqua quæ de coelo est. Et sicut aricla terra, si non percipiat humorem, non fructificat: sic et nos lignum aridum exsistentes primum, nunquam fructificaremus vitam sine superna voluntaria pluvia. Corpora unim nostra per lavacrum illam quæ est ad incorruptionem unitatem acceperunt, animæ autem per spiritum"). The unbaptised (catechumens) also belong to the Church, when they commit themselves to her guidance and prayers. Accordingly baptism ceased more and more to be regarded as an act of initiation, and only recovered this character in the course of the succeeding centuries. In this connection the 7th (spurious) canon of Constantinople (381) is instructive: [Greek: kai tên prôtên hêmeran poioumen autous Christianous, tên de deuteran katêchoumenous, eita tên tritên exorkizomen autous k.t.l.]] [Footnote 292: Döllinger, Die Lehre von der Eucharistie in dem ersten 3 Jahrhunderten, 1826. Engelhardt in the Zeitschrift fur die hist. Theologie, 1842, I. Kahnis, Lehre vom Abendmahl, 1851. Ruckert, Das Abendmahl, sein Wesen und seine Geschichte, 1856. Leimbach, Beitrage zur Abendmahlslehre Tertullian's, 1874. Steitz, Die Abendmahlslehre der griechischen Kirche, in the Jahrbucher fur deutsche Theologie, 1864-1868; cf. also the works of Probst. Whilst Eucharist and love feast had already been separated from the middle of the 2nd century in the West, they were still united in Alexandria in Clement's time; see Bigg, l.c., p. 103.] [Footnote 293: The collocation of baptism and the Lord's Supper, which, as the early Christian monuments prove, was a very familiar practice (Tert. adv. Marc. IV. 34: "sacramentum baptismi et eucharistiæ;" Hippol., can. arab. 38: "baptizatus et corpore Christi pastus"), was, so far as I know, justified by no Church Father on internal grounds. Considering their conception of the holy ordinances this is not surprising. They were classed together because they were instituted by the Lord, and because the elements (water, wine, bread) afforded much common ground for allegorical interpretation.] [Footnote 294: The story related by Dionysius (in Euseb., l.c.) is especially characteristic, as the narrator was an extreme spiritualist. How did it stand therefore with the dry tree? Besides, Tertull. (de corona 3) says: "Calicis aut panis nostri aliquid decuti in terram anxie patimur". Superstitious reverence for the sacrament _ante et extra usum_ is a very old habit of mind in the Gentile Church.] [Footnote 295: Leimbach's investigations of Tertullian's use of words have placed this beyond doubt; see de orat. 6; adv. Marc. I. 14: IV. 40: III. 19; de resuri. 8.] [Footnote 296: The chief passages referring to the Supper in Clement are Protrept. 12. 120; Pæd. I. 6. 43: II. 2. 19 sq.: I. 5. 15: I. 6. 38, 40; Quis div. 23; Strom. V. 10. 66: I. 10. 46: I. 19. 96: VI. 14. 113: V. II. 70. Clement thinks as little of forgiveness of sins in connection with the Supper as does the author of the Didache or the other Fathers; this feast is rather meant to bestow an initiation into knowledge and immortality. Ignatius had already said, "the body is faith, the blood is hope." This is also Clement's opinion; he also knows of a transubstantiation, not, however, into the real body of Christ, but into heavenly powers. His teaching was therefore that of Valentinus (see the Exc. ex. Theod. § 82, already given on Vol. i. p. 263) Strom. V. 11. 70: [Greek: logikon hêmin brôma hê gnôsis]; I. 20. 46: [Greek: hina dê phagômen logikôs]; V. 10. 66: [Greek: brôsis gar kai posis tou theiou logou hê gnôsis esti tês theias ousias]. Adumbrat. in epp. Joh.: "sanguis quod est cognitio"; see Bigg, l.c., p. 106 ff.] [Footnote 297: Orig. in Matth. Comment. ser. 85: "Panis iste, quem deus verbum corpus suum esse fatetur, verbum est nutritorium animarum, verbum de deo verbo procedens et panis de pane coe'esti... Non enim panem illum visibilem, quem tenebat in manibus, corpus suum dicebat deus verbum, sed verbum, in cuius mysterio fuerat panis ille frangendus; nec potum illum visibilem sanguinem suum dicebat, sed verbum in cuius mysterio potus ille fuerat effundendus;" see in Matt. XI. 14; c. Cels. VIII. 33. Hom. XVI. 9 in Num. On Origen's doctrine of the Lord's Supper see Bigg, p. 219 ff.] [Footnote 298: The conception of the Supper as _viaticum mortis_ (fixed by the 13th canon of Nicæa: [Greek: peri de tôn exodeuontôn ho palaios kai kanonikos nomos phulachthêsetai kai nun, hôste eitis exodeuoi, tou teleutaiou kai anagkaiotatou ephodiou mê apostereisthai]), a conception which is genuinely Hellenic and which was strengthened by the idea that the Supper was [Greek: pharmakon athanasias], the practice of benediction, and much else in theory and practice connected with the Eucharist reveal the influence of antiquity. See the relative articles in Smith and Cheetham's Dictionary of Christian Antiquities.] [Footnote 299: The fullest account of the "history of the Romish Church down to the pontificate of Leo I." has been given by Langen, 1881; but I can in no respect agree (see Theol. Lit. Ztg. 1891, No. 6) with the hypotheses about the primacy as propounded by him in his treatise on the Clementine romances (1890, see especially p. 163 ff). The collection of passages given by Caspari, "Quellen zur Geschichte des Taufsymbols," Vol. III., deserves special recognition. See also the sections bearing on this subject in Renan's "Origines du Christianisme," Vols. V.-VII. especially VII., chaps. 5, 12, 23. Sohm in his "Kirchenrecht" I. (see especially pp. 164 ff., 350 ff., 377 ff.) has adopted my conception of "Catholic" and "Roman," and made it the basis of further investigations. He estimates the importance of the Roman Church still more highly, in so far as, according to him, she was the exclusive originator of Church law as well as of the Catholic form of Church constitution; and on page 381 he flatly says: "The whole Church constitution with its claim to be founded on divine arrangement was first developed in Rome and then transferred from her to the other communities." I think this is an exaggeration. Tschirn (Zeitschrift für Kirchengeschichte, XII. p. 215 ff.) has discussed the origin of the Roman Church in the 2nd century. Much that was the common property of Christendom, or is found in every religion as it becomes older, is regarded by this author as specifically Roman.] [Footnote 300: No doubt we must distinguish two halves in Christendom. The first, the ecclesiastical West, includes the west coast of Asia Minor, Greece, and Rome together with their daughter Churches, that is, above all, Gaul and North Africa. The second or eastern portion embraces Palestine, Egypt, Syria, and the east part of Asia Minor. A displacement gradually arose in the course of the 3rd century. In the West the most important centres are Ephesus, Smyrna, Corinth, and Rome, cities with a Greek and Oriental population. Even in Carthage the original speech of the Christian community was probably Greek.] [Footnote 301: Rome was the first city in the Empire, Alexandria the second. They were the metropolitan cities of the world (see the inscription in Kaibel, No. 1561, p. 407: [Greek: threpse m' Alexandreia, metoikon ethapse de Rhomê, hai kosmou kai gês, ô xene, mêtropoleis]). This is reflected in the history of the Church; first Rome appears, then Alexandria. The significance of the great towns for the history of dogma and of the Church will be treated of in a future volume. Abercius of Hieropolis, according to the common interpretation (inscription V. 7 f.) designates Rome as "queen." This was a customary appellation; see Eunap., vita Prohaer. p. 90: [Greek: hê basileuousa Rhômê].] [Footnote 302: In this connection we need only keep in mind the following summary of facts. Up to the end of the second century the Alexandrian Church had none of the Catholic and apostolic standards, and none of the corresponding institutions as found in the Roman Church; but her writer, Clement, was also "as little acquainted with the West as Homer." In the course of the first half of the 3rd century she received those standards and institutions; but her writer, Origen, also travelled to Rome himself in order to see "the very old" church and formed a connection with Hippolytus; and her bishop Dionysius carried on a correspondence with his Roman colleague, who also made common cause with him. Similar particulars may also be ascertained with regard to the Syrian Church.] [Footnote 303: See the proofs in the two preceding chapters. Note also that these elements have an inward connection. So long as one was lacking, all were, and whenever one was present, all the others immediately made their appearance.] [Footnote 304: Ignatius already says that the Roman Christians are [Greek: apodiulismenoi apo pantos allotrion chrômatos] (Rom. inscr.); he uses this expression of no others. Similar remarks are not quite rare at a later period; see, for instance, the oft-repeated eulogy that no heresy ever arose in Rome. At a time when this city had long employed the standard of the apostolic rule of faith with complete confidence, namely, at the beginning of the 3rd century, we hear that a lady of rank in Alexandria, who was at any rate a Christian, lodged and entertained in her house Origen, then a young man, and a famous heretic. (See Euseb., H. E. VI. 2. 13, 14). The lectures on doctrine delivered by this heretic and the conventicles over which he presided were attended by a [Greek: murion plêthos ou monon hairetikôn, alla kai hêmetephôn]. That is a very valuable piece of information which shows us a state of things in Alexandria that would have been impossible in Rome at the same period. See, besides, Dionys. Alex, in Euseb., H. E. VII. 7.] [Footnote 305: I must here refrain from proving the last assertion. The possibility of Asia Minor having had a considerable share, or having led the way, in the formation of the canon must be left an open question (cf. what Melito says, and the use made of New Testament writings in the Epistle of Polycarp). We will, however, be constrained to lay the chief emphasis on Rome, for it must not be forgotten that Irenæus had the closest connection with the Church of that city, as is proved by his great work, and that he lived there before he came to Gaul. Moreover, it is a fact deserving of the greatest attention that the Montanists and their decided opponents in Asia, the so-called Alogi, had no ecclesiastical _canon_ before them, though they may all have possessed the universally acknowledged books of the Romish canon, and none other, in the shape of _books read in the churches_.] [Footnote 306: See the Prolegg. of Westcott and Hort (these indeed give an opposite judgment), and cf. Harris, _Codex Bezae. A study of the so-called Western text of the New Testament_ 1891. An exhaustive study of the oldest martyrologies has already led to important cases of agreement between Rome and the East, and promises still further revelations. See Duchesne, "Les Sources du Martyrologe Hieron." 1885. Egli, "Altchristliche Studien, Martyrien und Martyrologieen ältester Zeit." 1887; the same writer in the "Zeitschrift für wissenschaftliche Theologie", 1891, p. 273 ff.] [Footnote 307: On the relations between Edessa and Rome see the end of the Excursus.] [Footnote 308: See my treatise "Die ältesten christlichen Datirungen und die Anfánge einer bischòflichen Chronographie in Rom." in the report of the proceedings of the Royal Prussian Academy of Science, 1892, pp. 617-658. I think I have there proved that, in the time of Soter, Rome already possessed a figured list of bishops, in which important events were also entered.] [Footnote 309: That the idea of the apostolic succession of the bishops was first turned to account or appeared in Rome is all the more remarkable, because it was not in that city, but rather in the East, that the monarchical episcopate was first consolidated. (Cf. the Shepherd of Hermas and Ignatius' Epistles to the Romans with his other Epistles). There must therefore have been a very rapid development of the constitution in the time between Hyginus and Victor. Sohm, l.c., tries to show that the monarchical episcopate arose in Rome immediately after the composition of the First Epistle of Clement, and as a result of it; and that this city was the centre from which it spread throughout Christendom.] [Footnote 310: See Pseudo-Cyprian's work "de aleat" which, in spite of remarks to the contrary, I am inclined to regard as written by Victor; cf. "Texte und Untersuchungen" V. I; see c. I of this writing: "et quoniam in nobis divina et paterna pietas apostolatus ducatum contulit et vicariam domini sedem cælesti dignatione ordinavit et originem authentici apostolatus, super quem Christus fundavit ecclesiam, in superiore nostro portamus."] [Footnote 311: See report of the proceedings of the Royal Prussian Academy of Science, 1892, p. 622 ff. To the material found there must be added a remarkable passage given by Nestle (Zeitschrift fur wissenschaftliche Theologie, 1893, p. 437), where the dates are reckoned after Sixtus I.] [Footnote 312: Cf. the 8th book of the Apostolic Constitutions with the articles referring to the regulation of the Church, which in Greek MSS. bear the name of Hippolytus. Compare also the Arabian Canones Hippolyti, edited by Haneberg (1870) and commented on by Achelis (Texte und Untersuchungen VI. 4). Apart from the additions and alterations, which are no doubt very extensive, it is hardly likely that the name of the Roman bishop is wrongly assigned to them. We must further remember the importance assigned by the tradition of the Eastern and Western Churches to one of the earliest Roman "bishops," Clement, as the confidant and secretary of the Apostles and as the composer and arranger of their laws.] [Footnote 313: See my proofs in "Texte und Untersuchungen," Vol. II., Part 5. The canons of the Council of Nicæa presuppose the distinction of higher and lower clergy for the whole Church.] [Footnote 314: We see this from the Easter controversy, but there are proofs of it elsewhere, e.g., in the collection of Cyprian's epistles. The Roman bishop Cornelius informs Fabius, bishop of Antioch, of the resolutions of the Italian, African, and other Churches (Euseb., H. E. VI. 43. 3: [Greek: êlthon eis hêmas epistolai Kornêliou Rhômaiôn episkopou pros ... phabion, dêlousai ta peri tês Rhômaiôn sunodou, kai ta doxanta pasi tois kata tên Italian kai Aphrikên kai tas autophi chôras]). We must not forget, however, that there were also bishops elsewhere who conducted a so-called oecumenical correspondence and enjoyed great influence, as, e.g., Dionysius of Corinth and Dionysius of Alexandria. In matters relating to penance the latter wrote to a great many Churches, even as far as Armenia, and sent many letters to Rome (Euseb., H. E. VI. 46). The Catholic theologian, Dittrich--before the Vatican Decree, no doubt--has spoken of him in the following terms (Dionysius von Alexandrien, 1867, p. 26): "As Dionysius participated in the power, so also he shared in the task of the primateship." "Along with the Roman bishop he was, above all, called upon to guard the interests of the whole Church."] [Footnote 315: This conception, as well as the ideas contained in this Excursus generally, is now entirely shared by Weingarten (Zeittafeln, 3rd. ed., 1888, pp. 12, 21): "The Catholic Church is essentially the work of those of Rome and Asia Minor. The Alexandrian Church and theology do not completely adapt themselves to it till the 3rd century. The metropolitan community becomes the ideal centre of the Great Church" ... "The primacy of the Roman Church is essentially the transference to her of Rome's central position in the religion of the heathen world during the Empire: _urbs æterna urbs sacra_."] [Footnote 316: This is also admitted by Langen (l.c., 184 f.), who even declares that this precedence existed from the beginning.] [Footnote 317: Cf. chaps. 59 and 62, but more especially 63.] [Footnote 318: At that time the Roman Church did not confine herself to a letter; she sent ambassadors to Corinth, [Greek: hoitines martures esontai metaxu humôn kai hêmôn]. Note carefully also the position of the Corinthian community with which the Roman one interfered (see on this point Wrede, Untersuchungen zum I Clemensbrief, 1891.)] [Footnote 319: In Ignatius, Rom. inscr., the verb [Greek: prokathêmai] is twice used about the Roman Church ([Greek: prokathêtai en] [to be understood in a local sense] [Greek: topôi khôrion Rhômaiôn]--[Greek: prokathêmenê tês agapês] = presiding in, or having the guardianship of, love). Ignatius (Magn. 6), uses the same verb to denote the dignity of the bishop or presbyters in relation to the community. See, besides, the important testimony in Rom. II.: [Greek: allous edidaxate]. Finally, it must be also noted that Ignatius presupposes an extensive influence on the part of individual members of the Church in the higher spheres of government. Fifty years later we have a memorable proof of this in the Marcia-Victor episode. Lastly, Ignatius is convinced that the Church will interfeie quite as energetically on behalf of a foreign brother as on behalf of one of her own number. In the Epistle of Clement to James, c. 2, the Roman bishop is called [Greek: ho alêtheias prokathezomenos].] [Footnote 320: Euseb., H. E. IV. 23. 9-12; cf., above all, the words: [Greek: Ex archês humin ethos esti touto, pantas men adelphous poikiôs euergetein, ekklêsiais te pollais tais kata pasan polin ephodia pempein ... patroparadoton ethos Rhômaiôn Rômaioi diaphulattontes.] Note here the emphasis laid on [Greek: Rômaioi].] [Footnote 321: According to Irenæus a peculiar significance belongs to the old Jerusalem Church, in so far as all the Christian congregations sprang from her (III. 12. 5: [Greek: autai phônai tês ekklêsias, ex hês pasa eschêken ekklêsia tês archên autai phônai tês mêtropoleôs tôn tês kainês diathêkês politôn]). For obvious reasons Irenæus did not speak of the Jerusalem Church of his own time. Hence that passage cannot be utilised.] [Footnote 322: Iren. III. 3. i: "Sed quomiam valde longum est, in hoc tali volumine omnium ecclesiarum enumerare successiones, maximæ et antiquissimæ et omnibus cognitæ, a gloriosissimis duobus apostolis Paulo et Petro Romæ fundatæ et constitutæ ecclesiæ, eam quam habet ab apostolis traditionem et annuutiatam hominibus fidem, per successiones episcoporum pervenientem usque ad nos indicantes confundimus omnes eos, qui quoquo modo vel per sibiplacentiam malam vel vanam gloriam vel per cæcitatem et malam sententiam, præterquam oportet, colligunt. Ad hanc enim ecclesiam propter potentiorem principalitatem necesse est omnem convenire ecclesiam, hoc est, eos qui sunt undique fideles, in qua semper ab his, qui sunt undique, conservata est ea quæ est ab apostolis traditio." On this we may remark as follows: (1) The special importance which Irenæus claims for the Roman Church--for he is only referring to her--is not merely based by him on her assumed foundation by Peter and Paul, but on a combination of the four attributes "maxima," "antiquissima" etc. Dionysius of Corinth also made this assumption (Euseb., II. 25. 8), but applied it quite as much to the Corinthian Church. As regards capability of proving the truth of the Church's faith, all the communities founded by the Apostles possess _principalitas_ in relation to the others; but the Roman Church has the _potentior principalitas_, in so far as she excels all the rest in her qualities of _ecclesia maxima et omnibus cognita_ etc. Principalitas = "sovereign authority," [Greek: authentia], for this was probably the word in the original text (see proceedings of the Royal Prussian Academy of Science, 9th Nov., 1893). In common with most scholars I used to think that the "in qua" refers to "Roman Church;" but I have now convinced myself (see the treatise just cited) that it relates to "omnem ecclesiam," and that the clause introduced by "in qua" merely asserts that every church, _in so far as she is faithful to tradition, i.e., orthodox_, must as a matter of course agree with that of Rome. (2) Irenæus asserts that every Church, i.e., believers in all parts of the world, must agree with this Church ("convenire" is to be understood in a figurative sense; the literal acceptation "every Church must come to that of Rome" is not admissible). However, this "must" is not meant as an imperative, but == [Greek: anagkê] == "it cannot be otherwise." In reference to _principalitas_ == [Greek: authentia] (see I. 31. 1: I. 26. 1) it must be remembered that Victor of Rome (l.c.) speaks of the "origo _authentici_ apostolatus," and Tertullian remarks of Valentinus when he apostatised at Rome, "ab ecclesia _authenticæ_ regulæ abrupit" (adv. Valent. 4).] [Footnote 323: Beyond doubt his "convenire necesse est" is founded on actual circumstances.] [Footnote 324: On other important journeys of Christian men and bishops to Rome in the 2nd and 3rd centuries see Caspari, l.c. Above all we may call attention to the journey of Abercius of Hierapolis (not Hierapolis on the Meander) about 200 or even earlier. Its historical reality is not to be questioned. See his words in the epitaph composed by himself (V. 7 f.): [Greek: eis Rhômên hos epempsen emen basilêan athrêsai kai basilissan idein chrusostolon chrusopedilon]. However, Ficker raises very serious objections to the Christian origin of the inscription.] [Footnote 325: We cannot here discuss how this tradition arose; in all likelihood it already expresses the position which the Roman Church very speedily attained in Christendom. See Renan, Orig., Vol. VII., p. 70: "Pierre el Paul (léconciliés), voilà le chef-d'oeuvre qui fondait la suprématie ecclésiastique de Rome dans làvenir. Une nouvelle qualité mythique lemplagait celle de Romulus et Remus." But it is highly probable that Peter was really in Rome like Paul (see 1 Clem. V., Ignatius ad Rom. IV.); both really performed important services to the Church there, and died as martyrs in that city.] [Footnote 326: The wealth of the Roman Church is also illustrated by the present of 200,000 sesterces brought her by Marcion (Tertull., de præse. 30). The "Shepherd" also contains instructive particulars with regard to this. As far as her influence is concerned, we possess various testimonies from Philipp. IV. 22 down to the famous account by Hippolytus of the relations of Victor to Marcia. We may call special attention to Ignatius' Epistle to the Romans.] [Footnote 327: See Tertullian, adv. Prax. I; Euseb., H. E. V. 3, 4. Dictionary of Christian Biography III., p. 937.] [Footnote 328: Euseb, H.E. V. 24. 9: [Greek: epi toutois ho men tês Rhômaiôn proestôs Biktôr athroôs tês Asias pasês hama tais homorois ekklêsiais tas paroikias apotemnein hôsan heterodoxousas, tês koinês henôseôs peiratai, kai stêliteuei ge dia grammatôn, akoinônêtous pantas ardên tous ekeise anakêruttôn adelphous]. Stress should be laid on two points here: (1) Victor proclaimed that the people of Asia Minor were to be excluded from the [Greek: koinê henôsis], and not merely from the fellowship of the Roman Church; (2) he based the excommunication on the alleged heterodoxy of those Churches. See Heinichen, Melet. VIII, on Euseb., l.c. Victor's action is parallelled by that of Stephen. Firmilian says to the latter: "Dum enim putas, omnes abs te abstineri posse, solum te ab omnibus abstinuisti." It is a very instructive fact that in the 4th century Rome also made the attempt to have Sabbath fasting established as an _apostolic_ custom. See the interesting work confuted by Augustine (ep. 36), a writing which emanates from a Roman author who is unfortunately unknown to us. Cf. also Augustine's 54th and 55th epistles.] [Footnote 329: Irenæus also (l.c. § 11) does not appear to have questioned Victor's proceeding as such, but as applied to this particular case.] [Footnote 330: See Tertull., de orat. 22: "Sed non putet institutionem unusquisque antecessoris commovendam." De virg. vel. I: "Paracletus solus antecessor, quia solus post Christum;" 2: "Eas ego ecclesias proposui, quas et ipsi apostolici viri condiderunt, et puto ante quosdam;" 3: "Sed nec inter consuetudines dispicere voluerunt illi sanctissimi antecessores." This is also the question referred to in the important remark in Jerome, de vir. inl. 53: "Tertullianus ad mediam ætatem presbyter fuit ecclesiæ Africanæ, invidia postea et contumeliis clericorum Romanæ ecclesiæ ad Montani dogma delapsus."] [Footnote 331: Stephen acted like Victor and excluded almost all the East from the fellowship of the Church; see in addition to Cyprian's epistles that of Dionysius of Alexandria in Euseb., H. E. VII. 5. In reference to Hippolytus, see Philosoph. l. IX. In regard to Origen, see the allusions in de orat. 28 fin.; in Matth. XI. 9, 15: XII. 9-14: XVI. 8, 22: XVII. 14; in Joh. X. 16; Rom. VI in Isai. c. 1. With regard to Philosoph. IX. 12, Sohm rightly remarks (p. 389): "It is clear that the responsibility was laid on the Roman bishop not merely in several cases where married men were made presbyters and deacons, but also when they were appointed bishops; and it is also evident that he appears just as responsible when bishops are not deposed in consequence of their marrying." One cannot help concluding that the Roman bishop has the power of appointing and deposing not merely presbyters and deacons, but also bishops. Moreover, the impression is conveyed that this appointment and deposition of bishops takes place in Rome, for the passage contains a description of existent conditions in the Roman Church. Other communities may be deprived of their bishops by an order from Rome, and a bishop (chosen in Rome) may be sent them. The words of the passage are: [Greek: epi kallistou êrxanto episkopoi kai presbuteroi kai diakonoi digamoi kai trigamoi kathistasthai eis klêrous ei de kai tis en klêrô ôn gamoiê, menein ton toiouton en tô klêrô hôs mê hêmartêkota.]] [Footnote 332: In the treatise "Die Briefe des romischen Klerus aus der Zeit der Sedisvacanz im Jahre 250" (Abhandlungen fur Weizsäcker, 1892), I have shown how the Roman clergy kept the revenue of the Church and of the Churches in their hands, though they had no bishop. What language the Romans used in epistles 8, 30, 36 of the Cyprian collection, and how they interfered in the affairs of the Carthaginian Church! Beyond doubt the Roman _Church_ possessed an acknowledged primacy in the year 250; it was the primacy of active participation and fulfilled duty. As yet there was no recognised dogmatic or historic foundation assigned for it; in fact it is highly probable that this theory was still shaky and uncertain in Rome herself. The college of presbyters and deacons feels and speaks as if it were the bishop. For it was not on the bishop that the incomparable prestige of Rome was based--at least this claim was not yet made with any confidence,--but on the _city itself_, on the origin and history, the faith and love, the earnestness and zeal _of the whole Roman Church and her clergy_.] [Footnote 333: In Tertullian, de præsc. 36, the bishops are not mentioned. He also, like Irenæus, cites the Roman Church as one amongst others. We have already remarked that in the scheme of proof from prescription no higher rank could be assigned to the Roman Church than to any other of the group founded by the Apostles. Tertullian continues to maintain this position, but expressly remarks that the Roman Church has special authority for the Carthaginian, because Carthage had received its Christianity from Rome. He expresses the special relationship between Rome and Carthage in the following terms: "Si autem Italiæ adiaces habes Romam, unde nobis quoque auctoritas præsto est." With Tertullian, then, the _de facto_ position of the Roman Church in Christendom did not lead to the same conclusion in the scheme of proof from prescription as we found in Irenæus. But in his case also that position is indicated by the rhetorical ardour with which he speaks of the Roman Church, whereas he does nothing more than mention Corinth, Philippi, Thessalonica, and Ephesus. Even at that time, moreover, he had ground enough for a more reserved attitude towards Rome, though in the antignostic struggle he could not dispense with the tradition of the Roman community. In the veil dispute (de virg. vel. 2) he opposed the authority of the Greek apostolic Churches to that of Rome. Polycarp had done the same against Anicetus, Polycrates against Victor, Proculus against his Roman opponents. Conversely, Praxeas in his appeal to Eleutherus (c. 1.: "præcessorum auctoritates"), Caius when contending with Proculus, the Carthaginian clergy when opposing Tertullian (in the veil dispute), and Victor when contending with Polycrates set the authority of Rome against that of the Greek apostolic Churches. These struggles at the transition from the and to the 3rd century are of the utmost importance. Rome was here seeking to overthrow the authority of the only group of Churches able to enter into rivalry with her those of Asia Minor, and succeeded in the attempt.] [Footnote 334: De pudic. 21: "De tua nunc sententia quæro, unde hoc ius ecclesiæ usurpes. Si quia dixerit Petro dominus: Super hanc petram ædificabo ecclesiam meam, tibi dedi claves regni cælestis, vel, Quæcumque alligaveris vel solveris in terra, erunt alligata vel soluta in coelis, id circo præsumis et ad te derivasse solvendi et alligandi potestatem?" Stephen did the same; see Firmilian in Cyprian ep. 75. With this should be compared the description Clement of Rome gives in his epistles to James of his own installation by Peter (c. 2). The following words are put in Peter's mouth: [Greek: klêmenta touton episkopon humin cheirontonô, hô tên emên tôn logôn pisteuô kathedran ... dia autô metadidômi tên exousian tou desmeuein kai luein, hina peri pantos ou an cheirotonêsê epi gês estai dedogmatismenon en ouranois. dêsei gar ho dei dethênai kai lusei ho dei luthênai, hôs ton tês ekklêsias eidôs kanona.]] [Footnote 335: See Dionysius of Alexandria's letter to the Roman bishop Stephen (Euseb., H. E. VII. 5. 2): [Greek: Hai mentoi Suriai holai kai hê Arabia, ois eparkeite hekastote kai ois nun epesteilate.]] [Footnote 336: In the case of Origen's condemnation the decision of Rome seems to have been of special importance. Origen sought to defend his orthodoxy in a letter written by his own hand to the Roman bishop Fabian (see Euseb., H. E. VI. 36; Jerome, ep. 84. 10). The Roman bishop Pontian had previously condemned him after summoning a "senate;" see Jerome, ep. 33 (Döllinger, Hippolytus and Calixtus, p. 259 f.). Further, it is an important fact that a deputation of Alexandrian Christians, who did not agree with the Christology of their bishop Dionysius, repaired to Rome to the _Roman_ bishop Dionysius and formally accused the first named prelate. It is also significant that Dionysius received this complaint and brought the matter up at a Roman synod. No objection was taken to this proceeding (Athanas., de synod.). This information is very instructive, for it proves that the Roman Church was ever regarded as specially charged with watching over the observance of the conditions of the general ecclesiastical federation, the [Greek: koinê henôsis]. As to the fact that in circular letters, not excepting Eastern ones, the Roman Church was put at the head of the address, see Euseb., H. E. VII. 30. How frequently foreign bishops came to Rome is shown by the 19th canon of Arles (A.D. 314): "De episcopis peregrinis, qui in urbem solent venire, placuit iis locum dari ut offerant." The first canon is also important in deciding the special position of Rome.] [Footnote 337: Peculiar circumstances, which unfortunately we cannot quite explain, are connected with the cases discussed by Cyprian in epp. 67 and 68. The Roman bishop must have had the acknowledged power of dealing with the bishop of Arles, whereas the Gallic prelates had not this right. Sohm, p. 391 ff., assumes that the Roman bishop alone--not Cyprian or the bishops of Gaul--had authority to exclude the bishop of Arles from the general fellowship of the Church, but that, as far as the Gallic Churches were concerned, such an excommunication possessed no legal effect, but only a moral one, because in their case the bishop of Rome had only a spiritual authority and no legal power. Further, two Spanish bishops publicly appealed to the Roman see against their deposition, and Cyprian regarded this appeal as in itself correct. Finally, Cornelius says of himself in a letter (in Euseb., H. E. VI. 43. 10): [Greek: tôn loipôn episkopôn diadochous eis tous topous, en hois êsan, cheirotonêsantes apestalkamen]. This quotation refers to Italy, and the passage, which must be read connectedly, makes it plain (see, besides, the quotation in reference to Calixtus given above on p. 162), that, before the middle of the 3rd century, the Roman Church already possessed a legal right of excommunication and the recognised power of making ecclesiastical appointments as far as the communities and bishops in Italy were concerned (see Sohm, p. 389 ff.).] [Footnote 338: Euseb., H. E. VII. 30. 19. The Church of Antioch sought to enter upon an independent line of development under Paul of Samosata. Paul's fall was the victory of Rome. We may suppose it to be highly probable, though to the best of my belief there is for the present no sure proof, that it was not till then that the Roman standards and sacraments, catholic and apostolic collection of Scriptures (see, on the contrary, the use of Scripture in the Didaskalia), apostolic rule of faith, and apostolic episcopacy attained supremacy in Antioch; but that they began to be introduced into that city about the time of Serapion's bishopric (that is, during the Easter controversy). The old records of the Church of Edessa have an important bearing on this point; and from these it is evident that her constitution did not begin to assume a Catholic form till the beginning of the 3rd century, and that as the result of connection with Rome. See _the Doctrine of Addai_ by Phillips, p. 50: "Palut himself went to Antioch and received the hand of the priesthood from Serapion, bishop of Antioch. Serapion, bishop of Antioch, himself also received the hand from Zephyrinus, bishop of the city of Rome, from the succession of the hand of the priesthood of Simon Cephas, which he received from our Lord, who was there bishop of Rome 25 years, (sic) in the days of the Cæsar, who reigned there 13 years." (See also Tixeront, _Edesse_, pp. 149, 152.) Cf. with this the prominence given in the Acts of Scharbil and Barsamya to the fact that they were contemporaries of Fabian, bishop of Rome. We read there (see Rubens Duval, Les Actes de Scharbil et les Actes de Barsamya, Paris, 1889, and Histoire d'Eclesse, p. 130): "Barsamya (he was bishop of Edessa at the time of Decius) lived at the time of Fabian, bishop of Rome. He had received the laying on of hands from Abschelama, who had received it from Palut. Palut had been consecrated by Serapion, bishop of Antioch, and the latter had been consecrated by Zephyrinus, bishop of Rome." As regards the relation of the State of Rome to the Roman Church, that is, to the Roman bishop, who by the year 250 had already become a sort of _præfectus urbis_, with his district superintendents, the deacons, and in fact a sort of _princeps æmulus_, cf. (1) the recorded comments of Alexander Severus on the Christians, and especially those on their organisation; (2) the edict of Maximinus Thrax and the banishment of the bishops Pontian and Hippolytus; (3) the attitude of Philip the Arabian; (4) the remarks of Decius in Cyp. ep. 55 (see above p. 124) and his proceedings against the Roman bishops, and (5) the attitude of Aurelian in Antioch. On the extent and organisation of the Roman Church about 250 see Euseb., H. E. VI. 43.] [Footnote 339: The memorable words in the lately discovered appeal by Eusebius of Dorylæum to Leo I. (Neues Archiv., Vol. XI., part 2, p. 364 f.) are no mere flattery, and the fifth century is not the first to which they are applicable: "Curavit desuper et ab exordio consuevit thronus apostolicus iniqua perferentes defensare et eos qui in evitabiles factiones inciderunt, adiuvare et humi iacentes erigere, secundum possibilitatem, quam habetis; causa autem rei, quod sensum rectum tenetis et inconcussam servatis erga dominum nostrum Iesum Christum fidem, nec non etiam indissimulatam universis fratribus et omnibus in nomine Christi vocatis tribuitis caritatem, etc." See also Theodoret's letters addressed to Rome.] II. FIXING AND GRADUAL HELLENISING OF CHRISTIANITY AS A SYSTEM OF DOCTRINE CHAPTER IV. ECCLESIASTICAL CHRISTIANITY AND PHILOSOPHY. THE APOLOGISTS. 1. _Introduction._[340] The object of the Christian Apologists, some of whom filled ecclesiastical offices and in various ways promoted spiritual progress,[341] was, as they themselves explained, to uphold the Christianity professed by the Christian Churches and publicly preached. They were convinced that the Christian faith was founded on revelation and that only a mind enlightened by God could grasp and maintain the faith. They acknowledged the Old Testament to be the authoritative source of God's revelation, maintained that the whole human race was meant to be reached by Christianity, and adhered to the early Christian eschatology. These views as well as the strong emphasis they laid upon human freedom and responsibility, enabled them to attain a firm standpoint in opposition to "Gnosticism," and to preserve their position within the Christian communities, whose moral purity and strength they regarded as a strong proof of the truth of this faith. In the endeavours of the Apologists to explain Christianity to the cultured world, we have before us the attempts of Greek churchmen to represent the Christian religion as a philosophy, and to convince outsiders that it was the highest wisdom and the absolute truth. These efforts were not rejected by the Churches like those of the so-called Gnostics, but rather became in subsequent times the foundation of the ecclesiastical dogmatic. The Gnostic speculations were repudiated, whereas those of the Apologists were accepted. The manner in which the latter set forth Christianity as a philosophy met with approval. What were the conditions under which ecclesiastical Christianity and Greek philosophy concluded the alliance which has found a place in the history of the world? How did this union attain acceptance and permanence, whilst "Gnosticism" was at first rejected? These are the two great questions the correct answers to which are of fundamental importance for the understanding of the history of Christian dogma. The answers to these questions appear paradoxical. The theses of the Apologists finally overcame all scruples in ecclesiastical circles and were accepted by the Græco-Roman world, because they made Christianity _rational_ without taking from, or adding to, its traditional historic material. The secret of the epoch-making success of the apologetic theology is thus explained: These Christian philosophers formulated the content of the Gospel in a manner which appealed to the common sense of all the serious thinkers and intelligent men of the age. Moreover, they contrived to use the positive material of tradition, including the life and worship of Christ, in such a way as to furnish this reasonable religion with a confirmation and proof that had hitherto been eagerly sought, but sought in vain. In the theology of the Apologists, Christianity, as the religious enlightenment directly emanating from God himself, is most sharply contrasted with all polytheism, natural religion, and ceremonial. They proclaimed it in the most emphatic manner as the religion of the spirit, of freedom, and of absolute morality. Almost the whole positive material of Christianity is embodied in the story which relates its entrance into the world, its spread, and the proof of its truth. The religion itself, on the other hand, appears as the truth that is surely attested and accords with reason--a truth the content of which is not primarily dependent on historical facts and finally overthrows all polytheism. Now this was the very thing required. In the second century of our era a great many needs and aspirations were undoubtedly making themselves felt in the sphere of religion and morals. "Gnosticism" and Marcionite Christianity prove the variety and depth of the needs then asserting themselves within the space that the ecclesiastical historian is able to survey. Mightier than all others, however, was the longing men felt to free themselves from the burden of the past, to cast away the rubbish of cults and of unmeaning religious ceremonies, and to be assured that the results of religious philosophy, those great and simple doctrines of virtue and immortality and of the God who is a Spirit, were certain truths. He who brought the message that these ideas were realities, and who, on the strength of these realities, declared polytheism and the worship of idols to be obsolete, had the mightiest forces on his side; for the times were now ripe for this preaching. What formed the strength of the apologetic philosophy was the proclamation that Christianity both contained the highest truth, as men already supposed it to be and as they had discovered it in their own minds, and the absolutely reliable guarantee that was desired for this truth. To the quality which makes it appear meagre to us it owed its impressiveness. The fact of its falling in with the general spiritual current of the time and making no attempt to satisfy special and deeper needs enabled it to plead the cause of spiritual monotheism and to oppose the worship of idols in the manner most easily understood. As it did not require historic and positive material to describe the nature of religion and morality, this philosophy enabled the Apologists to demonstrate the worthlessness of the traditional religion and worship of the different nations.[342] The same cause, however, made them take up the conservative position with regard to the historical traditions of Christianity. These were not ultimately tested as to their content, for this was taken for granted, no matter how they might be worded; but they were used to give an assurance of the truth, and to prove that the religion of the spirit was not founded on human opinion, but on divine revelation. The only really important consideration in Christianity is that it is _revelation, real revelation_. The Apologists had no doubt as to what it reveals, and therefore any investigation was unnecessary. The result of Greek philosophy, the philosophy of Plato and Zeno, as it had further developed in the empires of Alexander the Great and the Romans, was to attain victory and permanence by the aid of Christianity. Thus we view the progress of this development to-day,[343] and Christianity really proved to be the force from which that religious philosophy, viewed as a theory of the world and system of morality, first received the courage to free itself from the polytheistic past and descend from the circles of the learned to the common people. This constitutes the deepest distinction between Christian philosophers like Justin and those of the type of Valentinus. The latter sought for a _religion_; the former, though indeed they were not very clear about their own purpose, sought _assurance_ as to a theistic and moral conception of the world which they already possessed. At first the complexus of Christian tradition, which must have possessed many features of attraction for them, was something foreign to both. The latter, however, sought to make this tradition intelligible. For the former it was enough that they had here a revelation before them; that this revelation also bore unmistakable testimony to the one God, who was a Spirit, to virtue, and to immortality; and that it was capable of convincing men and of leading them to a virtuous life. Viewed superficially, the Apologists were no doubt the conservatives; but they were so, because they scarcely in any respect meddled with the contents of tradition. The "Gnostics," on the contrary, sought to understand what they read and to investigate the truth of the message of which they heard. The most characteristic feature is the attitude of each to the Old Testament. The Apologists were content to have found in it an ancient source of revelation, and viewed the book as a testimony to the truth, i.e., to philosophy and virtue; the Gnostics investigated this document and examined to what extent it agreed with the new impressions they had received from the Gospel. We may sum up as follows: The Gnostics sought to determine what Christianity is as a religion, and, as they were convinced of the absoluteness of Christianity, this process led them to incorporate with it all that they looked on as sublime and holy and to remove everything they recognised to be inferior. The Apologists, again, strove to discover an authority for religious enlightenment and morality and to find the confirmation of a theory of the universe, which, if true, contained for them the certainty of eternal life; and this they found in the Christian tradition. At bottom this contrast is a picture of the great discord existing in the religious philosophy of the age itself (see p. 129, vol. I.). No one denied the fact that all truth was divine, that is, was founded on revelation. The great question, however, was whether every man possessed this truth as a slumbering capacity that only required to be awakened; whether it was rational, i.e., merely moral truth, or must be above that which is moral, that is, of a religious nature; whether it must carry man beyond himself; and whether a real redemption was necessary. It is ultimately the dispute between morality and religion, which appears as an unsettled problem in the theses of the idealistic philosophers and in the whole spiritual conceptions then current among the educated, and which recurs in the contrast between the Apologetic and the Gnostic theology. And, as in the former case we meet with the most varied shades and transitions, for no one writer has developed a consistent theory, so also we find a similar state of things in the latter;[344] for no Apologist quite left out of sight the idea of redemption (deliverance from the dominion of demons can only be effected by the Logos, i.e., God). Wherever the idea of freedom is strongly emphasised, the religious element, in the strict sense of the word, appears in jeopardy. This is the case with the Apologists throughout. Conversely, wherever redemption forms the central thought, need is felt of a suprarational truth, which no longer views morality as the only aim, and which, again, requires particular media, a sacred history and sacred symbols. Stoic rationalism, in its logical development, is menaced wherever we meet the perception that the course of the world must in some way be helped, and wherever the contrast between reason and sensuousness, that the old Stoa had confused, is clearly felt to be an unendurable state of antagonism that man cannot remove by his own unaided efforts. The need of a revelation had its starting-point in philosophy here. The judgment of oneself and of the world to which Platonism led, the self-consciousness which it awakened by the detachment of man from nature, and the contrasts which it revealed led of necessity to that frame of mind which manifested itself in the craving for a revelation. The Apologists felt this. But their rationalism gave a strange turn to the satisfaction of that need. It was not their Christian ideas which first involved them in contradictions. At the time when Christianity appeared on the scene, the Platonic and Stoic systems themselves were already so complicated that philosophers did not find their difficulties seriously increased by a consideration of the Christian doctrines. As _Apologists_, however, they decidedly took the part of Christianity because, according to them, it was the doctrine of reason and freedom. The Gospel was hellenised in the second century in so far as the Gnostics in various ways transformed it into a Hellenic religion for the educated. The Apologists used it--we may almost say inadvertently--to overthrow polytheism by maintaining that Christianity was the realisation of an absolutely moral theism. The Christian religion was not the first to experience this twofold destiny on Græco-Roman soil. A glance at the history of the Jewish religion shows us a parallel development; in fact, both the speculations of the Gnostics and the theories of the Apologists were foreshadowed in the theology of the Jewish Alexandrians, and particularly in that of Philo. Here also the Gospel merely entered upon the heritage of Judaism.[345] Three centuries before the appearance of Christian Apologists, Jews, who had received a Hellenic training, had already set forth the religion of Jehovah to the Greeks in that remarkably summary and spiritualised form which represents it as the absolute and highest philosophy, i.e., the knowledge of God, of virtue, and of recompense in the next world. Here these Jewish philosophers had already transformed all the positive and historic elements of the national religion into parts of a huge system for proving the truth of that theism. The Christian Apologists adopted this method, for they can hardly be said to have invented it anew.[346] We see from the Jewish Sibylline oracles how wide-spread it was. Philo, however, was not only a Stoic rationalist, but a hyper-Platonic religious philosopher. In like manner, the Christian Apologists did not altogether lack this element, though in some isolated cases among them there are hardly any traces of it. This feature is most fully represented among the Gnostics. This transformation of religion into a philosophic system would not have been possible had not Greek philosophy itself happened to be in process of development into a religion. Such a transformation was certainly very foreign to the really classical time of Greece and Rome. The pious belief in the efficacy and power of the gods and in their appearances and manifestations, as well as the traditional worship, could have no bond of union with speculations concerning the essence and ultimate cause of things. The idea of a religious dogma which was at once to furnish a correct theory of the world and a principle of conduct was from this standpoint completely unintelligible. But philosophy, particularly in the Stoa, set out in search of this idea, and, after further developments, sought for one special religion with which it could agree or through which it could at least attain certainty. The meagre cults of the Greeks and Romans were unsuited for this. So men turned their eyes towards the barbarians. Nothing more clearly characterises the position of things in the second century than the agreement between two men so radically different as Tatian and Celsus. Tatian emphatically declares that salvation comes from the barbarians, and to Celsus it is also a "truism" that the barbarians have more capacity than the Greeks for discovering valuable doctrines.[347] Everything was in fact prepared, and nothing was wanting. About the middle of the second century, however, the moral and rationalistic element in the philosophy and spiritual culture of the time was still more powerful than the religious and mystic; for Neoplatonism, which under its outward coverings concealed the aspiration after religion and the living God, was only in its first beginnings. It was not otherwise in Christian circles. The "Gnostics" were in the minority. What the great majority of the Church felt to be intelligible and edifying above everything else was an earnest moralism.[348] New and strange as the undertaking to represent Christianity as a philosophy might seem at first, the Apologists, so far as they were understood, appeared to advance nothing inconsistent with Christian common sense. Besides, they did not question authorities, but rather supported them, and introduced no foreign positive materials. For all these reasons, and also because their writings were not at first addressed to the communities, but only to outsiders, the marvellous attempt to present Christianity to the world as the religion which is the true philosophy, and as the philosophy which is the true religion, remained unopposed in the Church. But in what sense was the Christian religion set forth as a philosophy? An exact answer to this question is of the highest interest as regards the history of Christian dogma. 2. _Christianity as Philosophy and as Revelation_. It was a new undertaking and one of permanent importance to a tradition hitherto so little concerned for its own vindication, when Quadratus and the Athenian philosopher, Aristides, presented treatises in defence of Christianity to the emperor.[349] About a century had elapsed since the Gospel of Christ had begun to be preached. It may be said that the Apology of Aristides was a most significant opening to the second century, whilst we find Origen at its close. Marcianus Aristides expressly designates himself in his pamphlet as a _philosopher of the Athenians_. Since the days when the words were written: "Beware lest any man spoil you through philosophy and vain deceit" (Col. II. 8), it had constantly been repeated (see, as evidence, Celsus, passim) that Christian preaching and philosophy were things entirely different, that God had chosen the fools, and that man's duty was not to investigate and seek, but to believe and hope. Now a philosopher, as such, pleaded the cause of Christianity. In the summary he gave of the content of Christianity at the beginning of his address, he really spoke as a philosopher and represented this faith as a philosophy. By expounding pure monotheism and giving it the main place in his argument, Aristides gave supreme prominence to the very doctrine which simple Christians also prized as the most important.[350] Moreover, in emphasing not only the supernatural character of the Christian doctrine revealed by the Son of the Most High God, but also the continuous inspiration of believers--the new _race_ (not a new _school_)--he confessed in the most express way the peculiar nature of this philosophy as a divine truth. According to him Christianity is philosophy because its content is in accordance with reason, and because it gives a satisfactory and universally intelligible answer to the questions with which all real philosophers have concerned themselves. But it is no philosophy, in fact it is really the complete opposite of this, in so far as it proceeds from revelation and is propagated by the agency of God, i.e., has a supernatural and divine origin, on which alone the truth and certainty of its doctrines finally depend. This contrast to philosophy is chiefly shown in the unphilosophical form in which Christianity was first preached to the world. That is the thesis maintained by all the Apologists from Justin to Tertullian,[351] and which Jewish philosophers before them propounded and defended. This proposition may certainly be expressed in a great variety of ways. In the first place, it is important whether the first or second half is emphasised, and secondly, whether that which is "universally intelligible" is to be reckoned as philosophy at all, or is to be separated from it as that which comes by "nature." Finally, the attitude to be taken up towards the Greek philosophers is left an open question, so that the thesis, taking up this attitude as a starting-point, may again assume various forms. But was the contradiction which it contains not felt? The content of revelation is to be rational; but does that which is rational require a revelation? How the proposition was understood by the different Apologists requires examination. _Aristides._ He first gives an exposition of monotheism and the monotheistic cosmology (God as creator and mover of the universe, as the spiritual, perfect, almighty Being, whom all things need, and who requires nothing). In the second chapter he distinguishes, according to the Greek text, three, and, according to the Syriac, four classes of men (in the Greek text polytheists, Jews, Christians, the polytheists being divided into Chaldeans, Greeks, and Egyptians; in the Syriac barbarians, Greeks, Jews, Christians), and gives their origin. He derives the Christians from Jesus Christ and reproduces the Christian _kerygma_ (Son of the Most High God, birth from the Virgin, 12 disciples, death on the cross, burial, resurrection, ascension, missionary labours of the 12 disciples). After this, beginning with the third chapter, follows a criticism of polytheism, that is, the false theology of the barbarians, Greeks, and Egyptians (down to chapter 12). In the 13th chapter the Greek authors and philosophers are criticised, and the Greek myths, as such, are shown to be false. In the 14th chapter the Jews are introduced (they are monotheists and their ethical system is praised; but they are then reproached with worshipping of angels and a false ceremonial). In the 15th chapter follows a description of the Christians, _i.e._, above all, of their pure, holy life. It is they who have found the truth, because they know the creator of heaven and earth. This description is continued in chapters 16 and 17: "This people is new and there is a divine admixture in it." The Christian writings are recommended to the emperor. _Justin._[352] In his treatise addressed to the emperor Justin did not call himself a philosopher as Aristides had done. In espousing the cause of the hated and despised Christians he represented himself as a simple member of that sect. But in the very first sentence of his Apology he takes up the ground of piety and philosophy, the very ground taken up by the pious and philosophical emperors themselves, according to the judgment of the time and their own intention. In addressing them he appeals to the [Greek: logos sôphrôn] in a purely Stoic fashion. He opposes the truth--also in the Stoic manner--to the [Greek: doxais palaiôn].[353] It was not to be a mere _captatio benevolentiæ_. In that case Justin would not have added: "That ye are pious and wise and guardians of righteousness and friends of culture, ye hear everywhere. Whether ye are so, however, will be shown."[354] His whole exordium is calculated to prove to the emperors that they are in danger of repeating a hundredfold the crime which the judges of Socrates had committed.[355] Like a second Socrates Justin speaks to the emperors in the name of all Christians. They are to hear the convictions of the wisest of the Greeks from the mouth of the Christians. Justin wishes to enlighten the emperor with regard to the life and doctrines ([Greek: bios kai mathêmata]) of the latter. Nothing is to be concealed, for there is nothing to conceal. Justin kept this promise better than any of his successors. For that very reason also he did not depict the Christian Churches as schools of philosophers (cc. 61-67). Moreover, in the first passage where he speaks of Greek philosophers,[356] he is merely drawing a parallel. According to him there are bad Christians and seeming Christians, just as there are philosophers who are only so in name and outward show. Such men, too, were in early times called "philosophers" even when they preached atheism. To all appearance, therefore, Justin does _not_ desire Christians to be reckoned as philosophers. But it is nevertheless significant that, in the case of the Christians, a phenomenon is being repeated which otherwise is only observed in the case of philosophers; and how were those whom he was addressing to understand him? In the same passage he speaks for the first time of Christ. He introduces him with the plain and intelligible formula: [Greek: ho didaskalos Christos] ("the teacher Christ").[357] Immediately thereafter he praises Socrates because he had exposed the worthlessness and deceit of the evil demons, and traces his death to the same causes which are now he says bringing about the condemnation of the Christians. Now he can make his final assertion. In virtue of "reason" Socrates exposed superstition; in virtue of the same reason, this was done by the teacher whom the Christians follow. _But this teacher was reason itself; it was visible in him, and indeed it appeared bodily in him._[358] Is this philosophy or is it myth? The greatest paradox the Apologist has to assert is connected by him with the most impressive remembrance possessed by his readers as philosophers. In the same sentence where he represents Christ as the Socrates of the barbarians,[359] and consequently makes Christianity out to be a Socratic doctrine, he propounds the unheard of theory _that the teacher Christ is the incarnate reason of God_. Justin nowhere tried to soften the effect of this conviction or explain it in a way adapted to his readers. Nor did he conceal from them that his assertion admits of no speculative demonstration. That philosophy can only deal with things which ever are, because they ever were, since this world began, is a fact about which he himself is perfectly clear. No Stoic could have felt more strongly than Justin how paradoxical is the assertion that a thing is of value which has happened only once. Certain as he is that the "reasonable" emperors will regard it as a rational assumption that "Reason" is the Son of God,[360] he knows equally well that no philosophy will bear him out in that other assertion, and that such a statement is seemingly akin to the contemptible myths of the evil demons. But there is certainly a proof which, if not speculative, is nevertheless sure. The same ancient documents, which contain the Socratic and super-Socratic wisdom of the Christians, bear witness through prophecies, which, just because they are predictions, admit of no doubt, that the teacher Christ is the incarnate reason; for history confirms the word of prophecy even in the minutest details. Moreover, in so far as these writings are in the lawful possession of the Christians, and announced at the very beginning of things that this community would appear on the earth, they testify that the Christians may in a certain fashion date themselves back to the beginning of the world, because their doctrine is as old as the earth itself (this thought is still wanting in Aristides). The new Socrates who appeared among the barbarians is therefore quite different from the Socrates of the Greeks, and for that reason also his followers are not to be compared with the disciples of the philosophers.[361] From the very beginning of things a world-historical dispensation of God announced this reasonable doctrine through prophets, and prepared the visible appearance of reason itself. The same reason which created and arranged the world took human form in order to draw the whole of humanity to itself. Every precaution has been taken to make it easy for any one, be he Greek or barbarian, educated or uneducated, to grasp all the doctrines of this reason, to verify their truth, and test their power in life. What further importance can philosophy have side by side with this, how can one think of calling this a philosophy? And yet the doctrine of the Christians can only be compared with philosophy. For, so far as the latter is genuine, it is also guided by the Logos; and, conversely, what the Christians teach concerning the Father of the world, the destiny of man, the nobility of his nature, freedom and virtue, justice and recompense, has also been attested by the wisest of the Greeks. They indeed only stammered, whereas the Christians speak. These, however, use no unintelligible and unheard-of language, but speak with the words and through the power of reason. The wonderful arrangement, carried out by the Logos himself, through which he ennobled the human race by restoring its consciousness of its own nobility, compels no one henceforth to regard the reasonable as the unreasonable or wisdom as folly. But is the Christian wisdom not of divine origin? How can it in that case be natural, and what connection can exist between it and the wisdom of the Greeks? Justin bestowed the closest attention on this question, but he never for a moment doubted what the answer must be. Wherever the reasonable has revealed itself, it has always been through the operation of the _divine_ reason. For man's lofty endowment consists in his having had a portion of the divine reason implanted within him, and in his consequent capacity of attaining a knowledge of divine things, though not a perfect and clear one, by dint of persistent efforts after truth and virtue. When man remembers his real nature and destination, that is, when he comes to himself, the divine reason is already revealing itself in him and through him. As man's possession conferred on him at the creation, it is at once his most peculiar property, and the power which dominates and determines his nature.[362] All that is reasonable is based on revelation. In order to accomplish his true destiny man requires from the beginning the inward working of that divine reason which has created the world for the sake of man, and therefore wishes to raise man beyond the world to God.[363] Apparently no one could speak in a more stoical fashion. But this train of thought is supplemented by something which limits it. Revelation does retain its peculiar and unique significance. For no one who merely possessed the "seed of the Logos" ([Greek: sperma tou logou]), though it may have been his exclusive guide to knowledge and conduct, was ever able to grasp the whole truth and impart it in a convincing manner. Though Socrates and Heraclitus may in a way be called Christians, they cannot be so designated in any real sense. Reason is clogged with unreasonableness, and the certainty of truth is doubtful wherever the whole Logos has not been acting; for man's natural endowment with reason is too weak to oppose the powers of evil and of sense that work in the world, namely, the demons. We must therefore believe in the prophets in whom the whole Logos spoke. He who does that must also of necessity believe in Christ; for the prophets clearly pointed to him as the perfect embodiment of the Logos. Measured by the fulness, clearness, and certainty of the knowledge imparted by the Logos Christ, all knowledge independent of him appears as merely human wisdom, even when it emanates from the seed of the Logos. The Stoic argument is consequently untenable. Men blind and kept in bondage by the demons require to be aided by a special revelation. It is true that this revelation is nothing new, and in so far as it has always existed, and never varied in character, from the beginning of the world, it is in this sense nothing extraordinary. _It is the divine help granted to man, who has fallen under the power of the demons, and enabling him to follow his reason and freedom to do what is good. By the appearance of Christ this help became accessible to all men._ The dominion of demons and revelation are the two correlated ideas. If the former did not exist, the latter would not be necessary. According as we form a lower or higher estimate of the pernicious results of that sovereignty, the value of revelation rises or sinks. This revelation cannot do less than give the necessary assurance of the truth, and it cannot do more than impart the power that develops and matures the inalienable natural endowment of man and frees him from the dominion of the demons. Accordingly the teaching of the prophets and Christ is related even to the very highest human philosophy as the whole is to the part,[364] or as the certain is to the uncertain; and hence also as the permanent is to the transient. For the final stage has now arrived and Christianity is destined to put an end to natural human philosophy. When the perfect work is there, the fragmentary must cease. Justin gave the clearest expression to this conviction. Christianity, i.e., the prophetic teaching attested by Christ and accessible to all, puts an end to the human systems of philosophy that from their close affinity to it may be called Christian, inasmuch as it effects all and more than all that these systems have done, and inasmuch as the speculations of the philosophers, which are uncertain and mingled with error, are transformed by it into dogmas of indubitable certainty.[365] The practical conclusion drawn in Justin's treatise from this exposition is that the Christians are at least entitled to ask the authorities to treat them as philosophers (Apol. I. 7, 20: II. 15). This demand, he says, is the more justifiable because the freedom of philosophers is enjoyed even by such people as merely bear the name, whereas in reality they set forth immoral and pernicious doctrines.[366] In the dialogue with the Jew Trypho, which is likewise meant for heathen readers, Justin ceased to employ the idea of the existence of a "seed of the Logos implanted by nature" ([Greek: sperma logou emphuton]) in every man. From this fact we recognise that he did not consider the notion of fundamental importance. He indeed calls the Christian religion a philosophy;[367] but, in so far as this is the case, it is "the only sure and saving philosophy." No doubt the so-called philosophies put the right questions, but they are incapable of giving correct answers. For the Deity, who embraces all true being, and a knowledge of whom alone makes salvation possible, is only known in proportion as he reveals himself. True wisdom is therefore exclusively based on revelation. Hence it is opposed to every human philosophy, because revelation was only given in the prophets and in Christ.[368] The Christian is _the_ philosopher,[369] because the followers of Plato and the Stoics are virtually no philosophers. In applying the title "philosophy" to Christianity he therefore does not mean to bring Christians and philosophers more closely together. No doubt, however, he asserts that the Christian doctrine, which is founded on the knowledge of Christ and leads to blessedness,[370] is in accordance with reason. _Athenagoras._ The petition on behalf of Christians, which Athenagoras, "the Christian philosopher of Athens," presented, to the emperors Marcus Aurelius and Commodus, nowhere expressly designates Christianity as a philosophy, and still less does it style the Christians philosophers.[371] But, at the very beginning of his writing Athenagoras also claims for the Christian doctrines the toleration granted by the state to all philosophic tenets.[372] In support of his claim he argues that the state punishes nothing but practical atheism,[373] and that the "atheism" of the Christians is a doctrine about God such as had been propounded by the most distinguished philosophers--Pythagoreans, Platonists, Peripatetics, and Stoics--who, moreover, were permitted to write whatsoever they pleased on the subject of the "Deity."[374] The Apologist concedes even more: "If philosophers did not also acknowledge the existence of one God, if they did not also conceive the gods in question to be partly demons, partly matter, partly of human birth, then certainly we would be justly expelled as aliens."[375] He therefore takes up the standpoint that the state is justified in refusing to tolerate people with completely new doctrines. When we add that he everywhere assumes that the wisdom and piety of the emperors are sufficient to test and approve[376] the truth of the Christian teaching, that he merely represents this faith itself as the _reasonable_ doctrine,[377] and that, with the exception of the resurrection of the body, he leaves all the positive and objectionable tenets of Christianity out of account,[378] there is ground for thinking that this Apologist differs essentially from Justin in his conception of the relation of Christianity to secular philosophy. Moreover, it is not to be denied that Athenagoras views the revelation in the prophets and in Christ as completely identical. But in one very essential point he agrees with Justin; and he has even expressed himself still more plainly than the latter, inasmuch as he does not introduce the assumption of a "seed of the Logos implanted by nature" [Greek: sperma logou emphuton]. The philosophers, he says, were incapable of knowing the full truth, since it was not from God, but rather from themselves, that they wished to learn about God. True wisdom, however, can only be learned from God, that is, from his prophets; it depends solely on revelation.[379] Here also then we have a repetition of the thought that the truly reasonable is of supernatural origin. Such is the importance attached by Athenagoras to this proposition, that he declares any demonstration of the "reasonable" to be insufficient, no matter how luminous it may appear. Even that which is most evidently true--e.g., monotheism--is not raised from the domain of mere human opinion into the sphere of undoubted certainty till it can be confirmed by revelation.[380] This can be done by Christians alone. Hence they are very different from the philosophers, just as they are also distinguished from these by their manner of life.[381] All the praises which Athenagoras from time to time bestows on philosophers, particularly Plato,[382] are consequently to be understood in a merely relative sense. Their ultimate object is only to establish the claim made by the Apologist with regard to the treatment of Christians by the state; but they are not really meant to bring the former into closer relationship to philosophers. Athenagoras also holds the theory that Christians are philosophers, in so far as the "philosophers" are not such in any true sense. It is only the problems they set that connect the two. He exhibits less clearness than Justin in tracing the necessity of revelation to the fact that the demon sovereignty, which, above all, reveals itself in polytheism,[383] can only be overthrown by revelation; he rather emphasises the other thought (cc. 7, 9) that the necessary attestation of the truth can only be given in this way.[384] _Tatian's_[385] chief aim was not to bring about a juster treatment of the Christians.[386] He wished to represent their cause as the good contrasted with the bad, wisdom as opposed to error, truth in contradistinction to outward seeming, hypocrisy, and pretentious emptiness. His "Address to the Greeks" begins with a violent polemic against all Greek philosophers. Tatian merely acted up to a judgment of philosophers and philosophy which in Justin's case is still concealed.[387] Hence it was not possible for him to think of demonstrating analogies between Christians and philosophers. He also no doubt views Christianity as "reasonable;" he who lives virtuously and follows wisdom receives it;[388] but yet it is too sublime to be grasped by earthly perception.[389] It is a heavenly thing which depends on the communication of the "Spirit," and hence can only be known by revelation.[390] But yet it is a "philosophy" with definite doctrines ([Greek: dogmata]);[391] it brings nothing new, but only such blessings as we have already received, but could not retain[392] owing to the power of error, i.e., the dominion of the demons.[393] Christianity is therefore the philosophy in which, by virtue of the Logos revelation through the prophets,[394] the rational knowledge that leads to life[395] is restored. This knowledge was no less obscured among the Greek philosophers than among the Greeks generally. In so far as revelation took place among the barbarians from the remotest antiquity, Christianity may also be called the barbarian philosophy.[396] Its truth is proved by its ancient date[397] as well as by its intelligible form, which enables even the most uneducated person that is initiated in it[398] to understand it perfectly.[399] Finally, Tatian also states (c. 40) that the Greek sophists have read the writings of Moses and the prophets, and reproduced them in a distorted form. He therefore maintains the very opposite of what Celsus took upon him to demonstrate when venturing to derive certain sayings and doctrines of Christ and the Christians from the philosophers. Both credit the plagiarists with intentional misrepresentation or gross misunderstanding. Justin judged more charitably. To Tatian, on the contrary, the mythology of the Greeks did not appear worse than their philosophy; in both cases he saw imitations and intentional corruption of the truth.[400] _Theophilus_ agrees with Tatian, in so far as he everywhere appears to contrast Christianity with philosophy. The religious and moral culture of the Greeks is derived from their poets (historians) and philosophers (ad Autol. II. 3 fin. and elsewhere). However, not only do poets and philosophers contradict each other (II. 5); but the latter also do not agree (II. 4. 8: III. 7), nay, many contradict themselves (III. 3). Not a single one of the so-called philosophers, however, is to be taken seriously;[401] they have devised myths and follies (II. 8); everything they have set forth is useless and godless (III. 2); vain and worthless fame was their aim (III. 3). But God knew beforehand the "drivellings of these hollow philosophers" and made his preparations (II. 15). He of old proclaimed the truth by the mouth of prophets, and these deposited it in holy writings. This truth refers to the knowledge of God, the origin and history of the world, as well as to a virtuous life. The prophetic testimony in regard to it was continued in the Gospel.[402] Revelation, however, is necessary because this wisdom of the philosophers and poets is really demon wisdom, for they were inspired by devils.[403] Thus the most extreme contrasts appear to exist here. Still, Theophilus is constrained to confess that truth was not only announced by the Sibyl, to whom his remarks do not apply, for she is (II. 36): [Greek: en Ellêsin kai en tois loipois ethnetin genomenê prophêtis], but that poets and philosophers, "though against their will," also gave clear utterances regarding the justice, the judgment, and the punishments of God, as well as regarding his providence in respect to the living and the dead, or, in other words, about the most important points (II. 37, 38, 8 fin.). Theophilus gives a double explanation of this fact. On the one hand he ascribes it to the imitation of holy writings (II. 12, 37: I. 14), and on the other he admits that those writers, when the demons abandoned them ([Greek: tê psychê eknêpsantes ex autôn]), of themselves displayed a knowledge of the divine sovereignty, the judgment etc., which agrees with the teachings of the prophets (II. 8). This admission need not cause astonishment; for the freedom and control of his own destiny with which man is endowed (II. 27) must infallibly lead him to correct knowledge and obedience to God, as soon as he is no longer under the sway of the demons. Theophilus did not apply the title of philosophy to Christian truth, this title being in his view discredited; but Christianity is to him the "wisdom of God," which by luminous proofs convinces the men who reflect on their own nature.[404] _Tertullian and Minucius Felix._[405] Whilst, in the case of the Greek Apologists, the acknowledgment of revelation appears conditioned by philosophical scepticism on the one hand, and by the strong impression of the dominion of the demons on the other, the sceptical element is not only wanting in the Latin Apologists, but the Christian truth is even placed in direct opposition to the sceptical philosophy and on the side of philosophical dogmatism, i.e., Stoicism.[406] Nevertheless the observations of Tertullian and Minucius Felix with regard to the essence of Christianity, viewed as philosophy and as revelation, are at bottom completely identical with the conception of the Greek Apologists, although it is undeniable that in the former case the revealed character of Christianity is placed in the background.[407] The recognition of this fact is exceedingly instructive, for it proves that the conception of Christianity set forth by the Apologists was not an individual one, but the necessary expression of the conviction that Christian truth contains the completion and guarantee of philosophical knowledge. To Minucius Felix (and Tertullian) Christian truth chiefly presents itself as the wisdom implanted by nature in every man (Oct. 16. 5). In so far as man possesses reason and speech and accomplishes the task of the "examination of the universe" ("inquisitio universitatis"), conditioned by this gift, he has the Christian truth, that is, he finds Christianity in his own constitution, and in the rational order of the world. Accordingly, Minucius is also able to demonstrate the Christian doctrines by means of the Stoic principle of knowledge, and arrives at the conclusion that Christianity is a philosophy, i.e., the true philosophy, and that philosophers are to be considered Christians in proportion as they have discovered the truth.[408] Moreover, as he represented Christian ethics to be the expression of the Stoic, and depicted the Christian bond of brotherhood as a cosmopolitan union of philosophers, who have become conscious of their natural similarity,[409] the revealed character of Christianity appears to be entirely given up. This religion is natural enlightenment, the revelation of a truth contained in the world and in man, the discovery of the one God from the open book of creation. The difference between him and an Apologist like Tatian seems here to be a radical one. But, if we look more closely, we find that Minucius--and not less Tertullian--has abandoned Stoic rationalism in vital points. We may regard his apologetic aim as his excuse for clearly drawing the logical conclusions from these inconsistencies himself. However, these deviations of his from the doctrines of the Stoa are not merely prompted by Christianity, but rather have already become an essential component of his philosophical theory of the world. In the first place, Minucius developed a detailed theory of the pernicious activity of the demons (cc. 26, 27). This was a confession that human nature was not what it ought to be, because an evil element had penetrated it from without. Secondly, he no doubt acknowledged (I. 4: 16. 5) the natural light of wisdom in humanity, but nevertheless remarked (32. 9) that our thoughts are darkness when measured by the clearness of God. Finally, and this is the most essential point, after appealing to various philosophers when expounding his doctrine of the final conflagration of the world, he suddenly repudiated this tribunal, declaring that the Christians follow the prophets, and that philosophers "have formed this shadowy picture of distorted truth in imitation of the divine predictions of the prophets." (34) Here we have now a union of all the elements already found in the Greek Apologists; only they are, as it were, hid in the case of Minucius. But the final proof that he agreed with them in the main is found in the exceedingly contemptuous judgment which he in conclusion passed on all philosophers and indeed on philosophy generally.[410] (34. 5: 38. 5) This judgment is not to be explained, as in Tertullian's case, by the fact that his Stoic opinions led him to oppose natural perception to all philosophical theory--for this, at most, cannot have been more than a secondary contributing cause,[411] but by the fact that he is conscious of following _revealed_ wisdom.[412] Revelation is necessary because mankind must be aided from without, i.e., by God. In this idea man's need of redemption is acknowledged, though not to the same extent as by Seneca and Epictetus. But no sooner does Minucius perceive the teachings of the prophets to be divine truth than man's natural endowment and the speculation of philosophers sink for him into darkness. Christianity is the wisdom which philosophers sought, but were not able to find.[413] We may sum up the doctrines of the Apologists as follows: (1) Christianity is revelation, i.e., it is the divine wisdom, proclaimed of old by the prophets and, by reason of its origin, possessing an absolute certainty which can also be recognised in the fulfilment of their predictions. As divine wisdom Christianity is contrasted with, and puts an end to, all natural and philosophical knowledge. (2) Christianity is the enlightenment corresponding to the natural but impaired knowledge of man.[414] It embraces all the elements of truth in philosophy, whence it is _the_ philosophy; and helps man to realise the knowledge with which he is naturally endowed. (3) Revelation of the rational was and is necessary, because man has fallen under the sway of the demons. (4) The efforts of philosophers to ascertain the right knowledge were in vain; and this is, above all, shown by the fact that they neither overthrew polytheism nor brought about a really moral life. Moreover, so far as they discovered the truth, they owed it to the prophets from whom they borrowed it; at least it is uncertain whether they even attained a knowledge of fragments of the truth by their own independent efforts.[415] But it is certain that many seeming truths in the writings of the philosophers were imitations of the truth by evil demons. This is the origin of all polytheism, which is, moreover, to some extent an imitation of Christian institutions. (5) The confession of Christ is simply included in the acknowledgment of the wisdom of the prophets; the doctrine of the truth did not receive a new content through Christ; he only made it accessible to the world and strengthened it (victory over the demons; special features acknowledged by Justin and Tertullian). (6) The practical test of Christianity is first contained in the fact that all persons are able to grasp it, for women and uneducated men here become veritable sages; secondly in the fact that it has the power of producing a holy life, and of overthrowing the tyranny of the demons. In the Apologists, therefore, Christianity served itself heir to antiquity, i.e., to the result of the monotheistic knowledge and ethics of the Greeks: "[Greek: Osa oun para pasikalôs eirêtai, hêmôn tôn Christianôn esti]" (Justin, Apol. II. 13). It traced its origin back to the beginning of the world. Everything true and good which elevates mankind springs from divine revelation, and is at the same time genuinely human, because it is a clear expression of what man finds within him and of his destination (Justin, Apol. I. 46: [Greek: hoi meta logou biôsantes Christianoi eisi, kan atheoi enomisthêsan, oion en Hellêsi men Sôkratês kai Êrakleitos kai oi omoioi autois, en barbarois de Abraam k.t.l.], "those that have lived with reason are Christians, even though they were accounted atheists, such as Socrates and Heraclitus and those similar to them among the Greeks, and Abraham etc. among the barbarians"). But everything true and good is Christian, for Christianity is nothing else than the teaching of revelation. No second formula can be imagined in which the claim of Christianity to be the religion of the world is so powerfully expressed (hence also the endeavour of the Apologists to reconcile Christianity and the Empire), nor, on the other hand, can we conceive of one where the specific content of traditional Christianity is so thoroughly neutralised as it is here. But the really epoch-making feature is the fact that the intellectual culture of mankind now appears reconciled and united with religion. The "dogmas" are the expression of this. Finally, these fundamental presuppositions also result in a quite definite idea of the essence of revelation and of the content of reason. The essence of revelation consists in its form: it is divine communication through a miraculous inward working. All the media of revelation are passive organs of the Holy Spirit (Athenag. Supplic. 7; Pseudo-Justin, Cohort. 8; Justin, Dialogue 115. 7; Apol. I. 31, 33, 36; etc.; see also Hippolytus, de Christo et Antichr. 2). These were not necessarily at all times in a state of ecstasy, when they received the revelations; but they were no doubt in a condition of absolute receptivity. The Apologists had no other idea of revelation. What they therefore viewed as the really decisive proof of the reality of revelation is the prediction of the future, for the human mind does not possess this power. It was only in connection with this proof that the Apologists considered it important to show what Moses, David, Isaiah, etc., had proclaimed in the Old Testament, that is, these names have only a _chronological_ significance. This also explains their interest in a history of the world, in so far as this interest originated in the effort to trace the chain of prophets up to the beginning of history, and to prove the higher antiquity of revealed truth as compared with all human knowledge and errors, particularly as found among the Greeks (clear traces in Justin,[416] first detailed argument in Tatian).[417] If, however, strictly speaking, it is only the form and not the content of revelation that is supernatural in so far as this content coincides with that of reason, it is evident that the Apologists simply took the content of the latter for granted and stated it dogmatically. So, whether they expressed themselves in strictly Stoic fashion or not, they all essentially agree in the assumption that true religion and morality are the natural content of reason. Even Tatian forms no exception, though he himself protests against the idea. 3. _The doctrines of Christianity as the revealed and rational religion._ The Apologists frequently spoke of the doctrines or "dogmas" of Christianity; and the whole content of this religion as philosophy is included in these dogmas.[418] According to what we have already set forth there can be no doubt about the character of Christian dogmas. _They are the rational truths, revealed by the prophets in the Holy Scriptures, and summarised in Christ_ ([Greek: christos logos kai nomos]), _which in their unity represent the divine wisdom, and the recognition of which leads to virtue and eternal life._ The Apologists considered it their chief task to set forth these doctrines, and hence they can be reproduced with all desirable clearness. The dogmatic scheme of the Apologists may therefore be divided into three component parts. These are: (A) Christianity viewed as monotheistic cosmology (God as the Father of the world); (B) Christianity as the highest morality and righteousness (God as the judge who rewards goodness and punishes wickedness); (C) Christianity regarded as redemption (God as the Good One who assists man and rescues him from the power of the demons).[419] Whilst the first two ideas are expressed in a clear and precise manner, it is equally true that the third is not worked out in a lucid fashion. This, as will afterwards be seen, is, on the one hand, the result of the Apologists' doctrine of freedom, and, on the other, of their inability to discover a specific significance for the _person_ of Christ within the sphere of revelation. Both facts again are ultimately to be explained from their moralism. The essential content of revealed philosophy is viewed by the Apologists (see A, B) as comprised in three doctrines.[420] First, there is one spiritual and inexpressibly exalted God, who is Lord and Father of the world. Secondly, he requires a holy life. Thirdly, he will at last sit in judgment, and will reward the good with immortality and punish the wicked with death. The teaching concerning God, virtue, and eternal reward is traced to the prophets and Christ; but the bringing about of a virtuous life (of righteousness) has been necessarily left by God to men themselves; for God has created man free, and virtue can only be acquired by man's own efforts. The prophets and Christ are therefore a source of righteousness in so far as they are teachers. But as God, that is, the divine Word (which we need not here discuss) has spoken in them, Christianity is to be defined as the Knowledge of God, mediated by the Deity himself, and as a virtuous walk in the longing after eternal and perfect life with God, as well as in the sure hope of this imperishable reward. By knowing what is true and doing what is good man becomes righteous and a partaker of the highest bliss. This knowledge, which has the character of divine instruction,[421] rests on faith in the divine revelation. This revelation has the nature and power of redemption in so far as the fact is undoubted that without it men cannot free themselves from the tyranny of the demons, whilst believers in revelation are enabled by the Spirit of God to put them to flight. Accordingly, the dogmas of Christian philosophy theoretically contain the monotheistic cosmology, and practically the rules for a holy life, which appears as a renunciation of the world and as a new order of society.[422] The goal is immortal life, which consists in the full knowledge and contemplation of God. The dogmas of revelation lie between the cosmology and ethics; they are indefinitely expressed so far as they contain the idea of salvation; but they are very precisely worded in so far as they guarantee the truth of the cosmology and ethics. 1. The dogmas which express the knowledge of God and the world are dominated by the fundamental idea that the world as the created, conditioned, and transient is contrasted with something self-existing, unchangeable and eternal, which is the first cause of the world. This self-existing Being has none of the attributes which belong to the world; hence he is exalted above every name and has in himself no distinctions. This implies, first, the unity and uniqueness of this eternal Being; secondly, his spiritual nature, for everything bodily is subject to change; and, finally, his perfection, for the self-existent and eternal requires nothing. Since, however, he is the cause of all being, himself being unconditioned, he is the fulness of all being or true being itself (Tatian 5: [Greek: katho pasa dunamis oratôn te kai aoratôn autos hupostasis ên, sun autô ta panta]). As the living and spiritual Being he reveals himself in free creations, which make known his omnipotence and wisdom, i.e., his operative reason. These creations are, moreover, a proof of the goodness of the Deity, for they can be no result of necessities, in so far as God is in himself perfect. Just because he is perfect, the Eternal Essence is also the Father of all virtues, in so far as he contains no admixture of what is defective. These virtues include both the goodness which manifests itself in his creations, and the righteousness which gives to the creature what belongs to him, in accordance with the position he has received. On the basis of this train of thought the Apologists lay down the dogmas of the monarchy of God ([Greek: tôn holôn to monarchikon]), his supramundaneness ([Greek: to arrêton, to anekphraston, to achôrêton, to akatalêpton, to aperinoêton, to asugkriton, to asymbibaston, to anekdiêgêton]; see Justin, Apol. II. 6; Theoph. I. 3); his unity ([Greek: eis Theos]); his having no beginning ([Greek: anarchos, hoti agenêtos]); his eternity and unchangeableness ([Greek: analloiôtos kathoti athanatos]); his perfection ([Greek: teleios]); his need of nothing ([Greek: aprosdeês]); his spiritual nature ([Greek: pneuma ho Theos]); his absolute causality ([Greek: autos hyparchôn tou pantos hê hypostasis], the motionless mover, see Aristides c. 1); his creative activity ([Greek: ktistês tôn pantôn]); his sovereignty ([Greek: despotês tôn holôn]); his fatherhood ([Greek: patêr dia to einai auton pro tôn holôn]) his reason-power (God as [Greek: logos, nous, pneuma, sophia]); his omnipotence ([Greek: pantokratôr hoti autos ta panta kratei kai emperiechei]); his righteousness and goodness ([Greek: patêr tês dikaiosunês kai pasôn tôn aretôn chrêstotês]). These dogmas are set forth by one Apologist in a more detailed, and by another in a more concise form, but three points are emphasised by all. First, God is primarily to be conceived as the First Cause. Secondly, the principle of moral good is also the principle of the world. Thirdly, the principle of the world, that is, the Deity, as being the immortal and eternal, forms the contrast to the world which is the transient. In the cosmology of the Apologists the two fundamental ideas are that God is the Father and Creator of the world, but that, as uncreated and eternal, he is also the complete contrast to it.[423] These dogmas about God were not determined by the Apologists from the standpoint of the Christian Church which is awaiting an introduction into the Kingdom of God; but were deduced from a contemplation of the world on the one hand (see particularly Tatian, 4; Theophilus, I. 5, 6), and of the moral nature of man on the other. But, in so far as the latter itself belongs to the sphere of created things, the cosmos is the starting-point of their speculations. This is everywhere dominated by reason and order;[424] it bears the impress of the divine Logos, and that in a double sense. On the one hand it appears as the copy of a higher, eternal world, for if we imagine transient and changeable matter removed, it is a wonderful complex of spiritual forces; on the other it presents itself as the finite product of a rational will. Moreover, the matter which lies at its basis is nothing bad, but an indifferent substance created by God,[425] though indeed perishable. In its constitution the world is in every respect a structure worthy of God.[426] Nevertheless, according to the Apologists, the direct author of the world was not God, but the personified power of reason which they perceived in the cosmos and represented as the immediate source of the universe. The motive for this dogma and the interest in it would be wrongly determined by alleging that the Apologists purposely introduced the Logos in order to separate God from matter, because they regarded this as something bad. This idea of Philo's cannot at least have been adopted by them as the result of conscious reflection, for it does not agree with their conception of matter; nor is it compatible with their idea of God and their belief in Providence, which is everywhere firmly maintained. Still less indeed can it be shown that they were all impelled to this dogma from their view of Jesus Christ, since in this connection, with the exception of Justin and Tertullian, they manifested no specific interest in the incarnation of the Logos in Jesus. The adoption of the dogma of the Logos is rather to be explained thus: (1) The idea of God, derived by abstraction from the cosmos, did indeed, like that of the idealistic philosophy, involve the element of unity and spirituality, which implied a sort of personality; but the fulness of all spiritual forces, the essence of everything imperishable were quite as essential features of the conception; for in spite of the transcendence inseparable from the notion of God, this idea was nevertheless meant to explain the world.[427] Accordingly, they required a formula capable of expressing the transcendent and unchangeable nature of God on the one hand, and his fulness of creative and spiritual powers on the other. But the latter attributes themselves had again to be comprehended in a unity, because the law of the cosmos bore the appearance of a harmonious one. From this arose the idea of the Logos, and indeed the latter was necessarily distinguished from God as a separate existence, as soon as the realisation of the powers residing in God was represented as beginning. _The Logos is the hypostasis of the operative power of reason, which at once preserves the unity and unchangeableness of God in spite of the exercise of the powers residing in him, and renders this very exercise possible._ (2) Though the Apologists believed in the divine origin of the revelation given to the prophets, on which all knowledge of truth is based, they could nevertheless not be induced by this idea to represent God himself as a direct actor. For that revelation presupposes a speaker and a spoken word; but it would be an impossible thought to make the fulness of all essence and the first cause of all things speak. The Deity cannot be a speaking and still less a visible person, yet according to the testimony of the prophets, a Divine Person was seen by them. The Divine Being who makes himself known on earth in audible and visible fashion can only be the Divine Word. As, however, according to the fundamental view of the Apologists the principle of religion, i.e., of the knowledge of the truth, is also the principle of the world, so that Divine Word, which imparts the right knowledge of the world, must be identical with the Divine Reason which produced the world itself. In other words, the Logos is not only the creative Reason of God, but also his revealing Word. This explains the motive and aim of the dogma of the Logos. We need not specially point out that nothing more than the precision and certainty of the Apologists' manner of statement is peculiar here; the train of thought itself belongs to Greek philosophy. But that very confidence is the most essential feature of the case; for in fact the firm belief that the principle of the world is also that of revelation represents an important early-Christian idea, though indeed in the form of philosophical reflection. To the majority of the Apologists the theoretical content of the Christian faith is completely exhausted in this proposition. They required no particular Christology, for in every revelation of God by his Word they already recognised a proof of his existence not to be surpassed, and consequently regarded it as Christianity _in nuce_.[428] But the fact that the Apologists made a distinction _in thesi_ between the prophetic Spirit of God and the Logos, without being able to make any use of this distinction, is a very clear instance of their dependence on the formulæ of the Church's faith. Indeed their conception of the Logos continually compelled them to identify the Logos and the Spirit, just as they not unfrequently define Christianity as the belief in the true God and in his Son, without mentioning the Spirit.[429] Further their dependence on the Christian tradition is shown in the fact that the most of them expressly designated the Logos as the _Son_ of God.[430] The Logos doctrine of the Apologists is an essentially unanimous one. Since God cannot be conceived as without reason, [Greek: alogos], but as the fulness of all reason,[431] he has always Logos in himself. This Logos is on the one hand the divine consciousness itself, and on the other the power (idea and energy) to which the world is due; he is not separate from God, but is contained in his essence.[432] For the sake of the creation God produced (sent forth, projected) the Logos from himself, that is, he engendered[433] him from his essence by a free and simple act of will ([Greek: Theos ek Theou pephukôs ex heautou]. Dial. 61). Then for the first time the Logos became a hypostasis separate from God, or, in other words, he first came into existence; and, in virtue of his origin, he possesses the following distinctive features:[434] (1) The inner essence of the Logos is identical with the essence of God himself; for it is the product of self-separation in God, willed and brought about by himself. Further, the Logos is not cut off and separated from God, nor is he a mere modality in him. He is rather the independent product of the self-unfolding of God ([Greek: oikonomia]), which product, though it is the epitome of divine reason, has nevertheless not stripped the Father of this attribute. The Logos is the revelation of God, and the visible God. Consequently the Logos is really God and Lord, i.e., he possesses the divine nature in virtue of his essence. The Apologists, however, only know of one kind of divine nature and this is that which belongs to the Logos. (2) From the moment when he was begotten the Logos is a being distinct from the Father; he is [Greek: arithmô eteron ti, Theos heteros, Theos deuteros] ("something different in number, another God, a second God.") But his personality only dates from that moment. "Fuit tempus, cum patri filius non fuit," ("there was a time when the Father had no Son," so Tertullian, adv. Hermog. 3). The [Greek: logos prophorikos] is for the first time a hypostasis distinct from the Father, the [Greek: logos endiathetos] is not.[435] (3) The Logos has an origin, the Father has not; hence it follows that in relation to God the Logos is a creature; he is the begotten, that is, the created God, the God who has a beginning. Wherefore in rank he is below God ([Greek: en deutera chôra]--[Greek: deuteros Theos], "in the second place, and a second God"), the messenger and servant of God. The subordination of the Logos is not founded on the content of his essence, but on his origin. In relation to the creatures, however, the Logos is the [Greek: archê], i.e., not only the beginning but the principle of the vitality and form of everything that is to receive being. As an emanation (the begotten) he is distinguished from all creatures, for he alone is the Son;[436] but, as having a beginning, he again stands on a level with them. Hence the paradoxical expression, [Greek: ergon prôtotokon tou patros] ("first begotten work of the Father"), is here the most appropriate designation. (4) In virtue of his finite origin, it is possible and proper for the Logos to enter into the finite, to act, to speak, and to appear. As he arose for the sake of the creation of the world, he has the capacity of personal and direct revelation which does not belong to the infinite God; nay, his whole essence consists in the very fact that he is thought, word, and deed. Behind this active substitute and vicegerent, the Father stands in the darkness of the incomprehensible, and in the incomprehensible light of perfection as the hidden, unchangeable God.[437] With the issuing forth of the Logos from God began the realisation of the idea of the world. The world as [Greek: kosmos noêtos] is contained in the Logos. But the world is material and manifold, the Logos is spiritual and one. Therefore the Logos is not himself the world, but he is its creator and in a certain fashion its archetype. Justin and Tatian used the expression "beget" [Greek: gennan] for the creation of the world, but in connections which do not admit of any importance being attached to this use. The world was created out of nothing after a host of spirits, as is assumed by most Apologists, had been created along with heaven, which is a higher, glorious world. The purpose of the creation of the world was and is the production of men, i.e., beings possessed of soul and body, endowed with reason and freedom, and therefore made in the image of God; beings who are to partake of the blessedness and perfection of God. Everything is created for man's sake, and his own creation is a proof of the goodness of God. As beings possessed of soul and body, men are neither mortal nor immortal, but capable either of death or immortality.[438] The condition on which men can attain the latter introduces us to ethics. The doctrines, that God is also the absolute Lord of matter; that evil cannot be a quality of matter, but rather arose in time and from the free decision of the spirits or angels; and finally that the world will have an end, but God can call the destroyed material into existence, just as he once created it out of nothing, appear in principle to reconcile the dualism in the cosmology. We have the less occasion to give the details here, because they are known from the philosophical systems of the period, especially Philo's, and vary in manifold ways. All the Apologists, however, are imbued with the idea that this knowledge of God and the world, the genesis of the Logos and cosmos, are the most essential part of Christianity itself.[439] This conception is really not peculiar to the Apologists: in the second century the great majority of Christians, in so far as they reflected at all, regarded the monotheistic explanation of the world as a main part of the Christian religion. The theoretical view of the world as a harmonious whole, of its order, regularity and beauty; the certainty that all this had been called into existence by an Almighty Spirit; the sure hope that heaven and earth will pass away, but will give place to a still more glorious structure, were always present, and put an end to the bright and gorgeously coloured, but phantastic and vague, cosmogonies and theogonies of antiquity. 2. Their clear system of morality is in keeping with their relatively simple cosmology. In giving man reason and freedom as an inalienable possession God destined him for incorruptibility ([Greek: athanasia, aphtharsia]), by the attainment of which he was to become a being similar to God.[440] To the gift of imperishability God, however, attached the condition of man's preserving [Greek: ta tês athanasias] ("the things of immortality"), i.e., preserving the knowledge of God and maintaining a holy walk in imitation of the divine perfection. This demand is as natural as it is just; moreover, nobody can fulfil it in man's stead, for an essential feature of virtue is its being free, independent action. Man must therefore determine himself to virtue by the knowledge that he is only in this way obedient to the Father of the world and able to reckon on the gift of immortality. The conception of the content of virtue, however, contains an element which cannot be clearly apprehended from the cosmology; moral goodness consists in letting oneself be influenced in no way by the sensuous, but in living solely, after the Spirit, and imitating the perfection and purity of God. Moral badness is giving way to any affection resulting from the natural basis of man. The Apologists undoubtedly believe that virtue consists negatively in man's renunciation of what his natural constitution of soul and body demands or impels him to. Some express this thought in a more pregnant and unvarnished fashion, others in a milder way. Tatian, for instance, says that we must divest ourselves of the human nature within us; but in truth the idea is the same in all. The moral law of nature of which the Apologists speak, and which they find reproduced in the clearest and most beautiful way in the sayings of Jesus,[441] calls upon man to raise himself above his nature and to enter into a corresponding union with his fellow-man which is something higher than natural connections. It is not so much the law of love that is to rule everything, for love itself is only a phase of a higher law; it is the law governing the perfect and sublime Spirit, who, as being the most exalted existence on this earth, is too noble for the world. Raised already in this knowledge beyond time and space, beyond the partial and the finite, the man of God, even while upon the earth, is to hasten to the Father of Light. By equanimity, absence of desires, purity, and goodness, which are the necessary results of clear knowledge, he is to show that he has already risen above the transient through gazing on the imperishable and through the enjoyment of knowledge, imperfect though the latter still be. If thus, a suffering hero, he has stood the test on earth, if he has become dead to the world,[442] he may be sure that in the life to come God will bestow on him the gift of immortality, which includes the direct contemplation of God together with the perfect knowledge that flows from it.[443] Conversely, the vicious man is given over to eternal death, and in this punishment the righteousness of God is quite as plainly manifested, as in the reward of everlasting life. 3. While it is certain that virtue is a matter of freedom, it is just as sure that no soul is virtuous unless it follows the will of God, i.e., knows and judges of God and all things as they must be known and judged of; and fulfils the commandments of God. This presupposes a revelation of God through the Logos. A revelation of God, complete in itself and mediated by the Logos, is found in the cosmos and in the constitution of man, he being created in his Maker's image.[444] But experience has shown that this revelation is insufficient to enable men to retain clear knowledge. They yielded to the seduction of evil demons, who, by God's sufferance, took possession of the world, and availed themselves of man's sensuous side to draw him away from the contemplation of the divine and lead him to the earthly.[445] The results of this temptation appeared in the facts that humanity as a whole fell a prey to error, was subjected to the bonds of the sensuous and of the demons, and therefore became doomed to death, which is at once a punishment and the natural consequence of want of knowledge of God.[446] Hence it required fresh efforts of the Logos to free men from a state which is indeed in no instance an unavoidable necessity, though a sad fact in the case of almost all. For very few are now able to recognise the one true God from the order of the universe and from the moral law implanted in themselves; nor can they withstand the power of the demons ruling in the world and use their freedom to imitate the virtues of God. Therefore the Almighty in his goodness employed new means through the Logos to call men back from the error of their ways, to overthrow the sovereignty of the demons upon earth, and to correct the disturbed course of the world before the end has yet come. From the earliest times the Logos (the Spirit) has descended on such men as preserved their souls pure, and bestowed on them, through inspiration, knowledge of the truth (with reference to God, freedom, virtue, the demons, the origin of polytheism, the judgment) to be imparted by them to others. These are his "prophets." Such men are rare among the Greeks (and according to some not found at all), but numerous among the barbarians, i.e., among the Jewish people. Taught by God, they announced the truth about him, and under the promptings of the Logos they also committed the revelations to writings, which therefore, as being inspired, are an authentic record of the whole truth.[447] To some of the most virtuous among them he himself even appeared in human form and gave directions. He then is a Christian, who receives and follows these prophetic teachings, that have ever been proclaimed afresh from the beginning of the world down to the present time, and are summed up in the Old Testament. Such a one is enabled even now to rescue his soul from the rule of the demons, and may confidently expect the gift of immortality. With the majority of the Apologists "Christianity" seems to be exhausted in these doctrines; in fact, they do not even consider it necessary to mention _ex professo_ the appearance of the Logos in Christ (see above, p. 189 ff.). But, while it is certain that they all recognised that the teachings of the prophets contained the full revelation of the truth, we would be quite wrong in assuming that they view the appearance and history of Christ as of no significance. In their presentations some of them no doubt contented themselves with setting forth the most rational and simple elements, and therefore took almost no notice of the historical; but even in their case certain indications show that they regarded the manifestation of the Logos in Christ as of special moment.[448] For the prophetic utterances, as found from the beginning, require an attestation, the prophetic teaching requires a guarantee, so that misguided humanity may accept them and no longer take error for truth and truth for error. The strongest guarantee imaginable is found in the fulfilment of prophecy. Since no man is able to foretell what is to come, the prediction of the future accompanying a doctrine proves its divine origin. God, in his extraordinary goodness, not only inspired the prophets, through the Logos, with the doctrines of truth, but has from the beginning put numerous predictions in their mouth. These predictions were detailed and manifold; the great majority of them referred to a more prolonged appearance of the Logos in human form at the end of history, and to a future judgment. Now, so long as the predictions had not yet come to pass, the teachings of the prophets were not sufficiently impressive, for the only sure witness of the truth is its outward attestation. In the history of Christ, however, the majority of these prophecies were fulfilled in the most striking fashion, and this not only guarantees the fulfilment of the relatively small remainder not yet come to pass (judgment, resurrection), but also settles beyond all doubt the truth of the prophetic teachings about God, freedom, virtue, immortality, etc. In the scheme of fulfilment and prophecy even the irrational becomes rational; for the fulfilment of a prediction is not a proof of its divine origin unless it refers to something extraordinary. Any one can predict regular occurrences which always take place. Accordingly, a part of what was predicted had to be irrational. Every particular in the history of Christ has therefore a significance, not as regards the future, but as regards the past. Here everything happened "that the word of the prophet might be fulfilled." Because the prophet had said so, it had to happen. Christ's destiny attests the ancient teachings of the prophets. Everything, however, depends on this attestation, for it was no longer the full truth that was wanting, but a convincing proof that the truth was a reality and not a fancy.[449] But prophecy testifies that Christ is the ambassador of God, the Logos that has appeared in human form, and the Son of God. If the future destiny of Jesus is recorded in the Old Testament down to the smallest particular, and the book at the same time declares that this predicted One is the Son of God and will be crucified, then the paying of divine honours to this crucified man, to whom all the features of prophecy apply, is completely justified. The stage marked by Christ in the history of God's revelation, the content of which is always the same, is therefore the highest and last, because in it the "truth along with the proof" has appeared. This circumstance explains why the truth is so much more impressive and convinces more men than formerly, especially since Christ has also made special provision for the spread of the truth and is himself an unequalled exemplification of a virtuous life, the principles of which have now become known in the whole world through the spread of his precepts. These statements exhaust the arguments in most of the Apologies; and they accordingly seem neither to have contemplated a redemption by Christ in the stricter sense of the word, nor to have assumed the unique nature of the appearance of the Logos in Jesus. Christ accomplished salvation as a divine _teacher_, that is to say, his teaching brings about the [Greek: allagê] and [Greek: epangôgê] of the human race, its restoration to its original destination. This also seems to suffice as regards demon rule. Logically considered, the individual portions of the history of Jesus (of the baptismal confession) have no direct significance in respect to salvation. Hence the teachings of the Christians seem to fall into two groups having no inward connection, i.e., the propositions treating of the rational knowledge of God, and the predicted and fulfilled historical facts which prove those doctrines and the believing hopes they include. But Justin at least gave token of a manifest effort to combine the historical statements regarding Christ with the philosophical and moral doctrines of salvation and to conceive Jesus as the Redeemer.[450] Accordingly, if the Christian dogmatic of succeeding times is found in the connection of philosophical theology with the baptismal confession, that is, in the "scientific theology of facts," Justin is, in a certain fashion, the first framer of Church dogma, though no doubt in a very tentative way. (1) He tried to distinguish between the appearance of the Logos in pre-Christian times and in Christ; he emphasised the fact that the whole Logos appeared only in Christ, and that the manner of this appearance has no counterpart in the past. (2) Justin showed in the Dialogue that, independently of the theologoumenon of the Logos, he was firmly convinced of the divinity of Christ on the ground of predictions and of the impression made by his personality.[451] (3) In addition to the story of the exaltation of Christ, Justin also emphasised other portions of his history, especially the death on the cross (together with baptism and the Lord's Supper) and tried to give them a positive significance.[452] He adopted the common Christian saying that the blood of Christ cleanses believers and men are healed through his wounds; and he tried to give a mystic significance to the cross. (4) He accordingly spoke of the forgiveness of sins through Christ and confessed that men are changed, through the new birth in baptism, from children of necessity and ignorance into children of purpose and understanding and forgiveness of sins.[453] Von Engelhardt has, however, quite rightly noticed that these are mere words which have nothing at all corresponding to them in the general system of thought, because Justin remains convinced that the knowledge of the true God, of his will, and of his promises, or the certainty that God will always grant forgiveness to the repentant and eternal life to the righteous, is sufficient to convert the man who is master of himself. Owing to the fundamental conviction which is expressed in the formulæ, "perfect philosophy," "divine teacher," "new law," "freedom," "repentance," "sinless life," "sure hope," "reward," "immortality," the ideas, "forgiveness of sins," "redemption," "reconciliation," "new birth," "faith" (in the Pauline sense) must remain words,[454] or be relegated to the sphere of magic and mystery.[455] Nevertheless we must not on that account overlook the intention. Justin tried to see the divine revelation not only in the sayings of the prophets, but in unique fashion in the person of Christ, and to conceive Christ not only as the divine teacher, but also as the "Lord and Redeemer." In two points he actually succeeded in this. By the resurrection and exaltation of Jesus Justin proved that Christ, the divine teacher, is also the future judge and bestower of reward. Christ himself is able to give what he has promised--a life after death free from sufferings and sins, that is the first point. The other thing, however, which Justin very strongly emphasised is that Jesus is even now reigning in heaven, and shows his future visible sovereignty of the world by giving his own people the power to cast out and vanquish the demons in and by his name. Even at the present time the latter are put to flight by believers in Christ.[456] So the redemption is no mere future one; it is even now taking place, and the revelation of the Logos in Jesus Christ is not merely intended to prove the doctrines of the rational religion, but denotes a real redemption, that is, a new beginning, in so far as the power of the demons on earth is overthrown through Christ and in his strength. Jesus Christ, the teacher of the whole truth and of a new law, which is the rational, the oldest, and the divine, the only being who has understood how to call men from all the different nations and in all stages of culture into a union of holy life, the inspiring One, for whom his disciples go to death, the mighty One, through whose name the demons are cast out, the risen One, who will one day reward and punish as judge, must be identical with the Son of God, who is the divine reason and the divine power. In this belief which accompanies the confession of the one God, creator of heaven and earth, Justin finds the special content of Christianity, which the later Apologists, with the probable exception of Melito, reproduced in a much more imperfect and meagre form. One thing, however, Justin in all probability did not formulate with precision, viz., the proposition that the special result of salvation, i.e., immortality, was involved in the incarnation of the Logos, in so far as that act brought about a real secret transformation of the whole mortal nature of man. With Justin, indeed, as with the other Apologists, the "salvation" ([Greek: sôtêria]) consists essentially in the apportioning of eternal life to the world, which has been created mortal and in consequence of sin has fallen a prey to the natural destiny of "death;" and Christ is regarded as the bestower of incorruptibility who thus brings the creation to its goal; but as a rule Justin does not go beyond this thought. Yet we certainly find hints pointing to the notion of a physical and magical redemption accomplished at the moment of the incarnation. See particularly the fragment in Irenæus (already quoted on page 220), which may be thus interpreted, and Apol. I. 66. This conception, in its most complete shape, would have to be attributed to Justin if the fragment V. (Otto, Corp. Apol. III. p. 256) were genuine.[457] But the precise form of the presentation makes this very improbable. The question as to how, i.e., in what conceivable way, immortality can be imparted to the mortal nature as yet received little attention from Justin and the Apologists: it is the necessary result of knowledge and virtue. Their great object was to assure the belief in immortality. "Religion and morality depend on the belief in immortality or the resurrection from the dead. The fact that the Christian religion, as faith in the incarnate Son of God the creator, leads to the assurance that the maker of all things will reward piety and righteousness with the bestowal of eternal and immortal life, is the essential advantage possessed by the Christian religion over all others. The righteousness of the heathen was imperfect in spite of all their knowledge of good and evil, because they lacked the certain knowledge that the creator makes the just immortal and will consign the unjust to eternal torment." The philosophical doctrines of God, virtue, and immortality became through the Apologists the certain content of a world-wide religion, which is Christian because Christ guarantees its certainty. They made Christianity a deistical religion for the whole world without abandoning in word at least the old "teachings and knowledge" ([Greek: didagmata kai mathêmata]) of the Christians. They thus marked out the task of "dogmatic" and, so to speak, wrote the prolegomena for every future theological system in the Church (see Von Engelhardt's concluding observations in his "Christenthum Justin's" pp. 447-490, also Overbeck in the Historische Zeitschrift, 1880, pp. 499-505.) At the same time, however, they adhered to the early-Christian eschatology (see Justin, Melito, and, with reference to the resurrection of the flesh, the Apologists generally), and thus did not belie their connection with early Christianity.[458] _Interpretation and Criticism, especially of Justin's Doctrines._ 1. The fundamental assumption of all the Apologists is that there can only be one and the same relation on earth between God and free man, and that it has been conditioned by the creation. This thought, which presupposes the idea of God's unchangeableness, at bottom neutralises every quasi-historical and mythological consideration. According to it grace can be nothing else than the stimulation of the powers of reason existent in man; revelation is supernatural only in respect of its form, and the redemption merely enables us to redeem ourselves, just as this possibility was given at the creation. Sin, which arose through temptation, appears on the one hand as error which must almost of necessity have arisen so long as man only possessed the "germs of the Logos" ([Greek: spermata tou logou]) and on the other as the dominion of sensuousness, which was nearly unavoidable since earthly material clothes the soul and mighty demons have possession of the world. The mythological idea of the invading sway of the demons is really the only interruption of the rationalistic scheme. So far as Christianity is something different from morality, it is the antithesis of the service and sovereignty of the demons. Hence the idea that the course of the world and mankind require in some measure to be helped is the narrow foundation of the thought of revelation or redemption. The necessity of revelation and redemption was expressed in a much stronger and more decisive way by many heathen philosophers of the same period. Accordingly, not only did these long for a revelation which would give a fresh attestation to old truth, but they yearned for a force, a real redemption, a _præsens numen_, and some new thing. Still more powerful was this longing in the case of the Gnostics and Marcion; compare the latter's idea of revelation with that of the Apologists. It is probable indeed that the thought of redemption would have found stronger expression among them also, had not the task of _proof_, which could be best discharged by the aid of the Stoic philosophy, demanded religious rationalism. But, admitting this, the determination of the highest good itself involved rationalism and moralism. For immortality is the highest good, in so far as it is perfect knowledge--which is, moreover, conceived as being of a rational kind,--that necessarily leads to immortality. We can only find traces of the converse idea, according to which the change into the immortal condition is the _prius_ and the knowledge the _posterius_. But, where this conception is the prevailing one, moralistic intellectualism is broken through, and we can now point to a specific, supernatural blessing of salvation, produced by revelation and redemption. Corresponding to the general development of religious philosophy from moralism into mysticism (transition from the second to the third century), a displacement in this direction can also be noticed in the history of Greek apologetics (in the West it was different); but this displacement was never considerable and therefore cannot be clearly traced. Even later on under altered circumstances, apologetic science adhered in every respect to its old method, as being the most suitable (monotheism, morality, proof from prophecy), a circumstance which is evident, for example, from the almost complete disregard of the New Testament canon of Scripture and from other considerations besides. 2. In so far as the possibility of virtue and righteousness has been implanted by God in men, and in so far as--apart from trifling exceptions--they can actually succeed in doing what is good only through prophetic, i.e., divine, revelations and exhortations, some Apologists, following the early Christian tradition, here and there designate the transformation of the sinner into a righteous man as a work of God, and speak of renewal and regeneration. The latter, however, as a real fact, is identical with the repentance which, as a turning from sin and turning to God, is a matter of free will. As in Justin, so also in Tatian, the idea of regeneration is exhausted in the divine call to repentance. The conception of the forgiveness of sins is also determined in accordance with this. Only those sins can be forgiven, i.e., overlooked, which are really none, i.e., which were committed in a state of error and bondage to the demons, and were well-nigh unavoidable. The blotting out of these sins is effected in baptism, "which is the bath of regeneration in so far as it is the voluntary consecration of one's own person. The cleansing which takes place is God's work in so far as baptism was instituted by him, but it is effected by the man who in his change of mind lays aside his sins. The name of God is pronounced above him who repents of his transgressions, that he may receive freedom, knowledge, and forgiveness of his previous sins, but this effects a change only denoting the new knowledge to which the baptised person has attained." If, as all this seems to show, the thought of a specific grace of God in Christ appears virtually neutralised, the adherence to the language of the cultus (Justin and Tatian) and Justin's conception of the Lord's Supper show that the Apologists strove to get beyond moralism, that is, they tried to supplement it through the mysteries. Augustine's assertion (de predest. sanct. 27) that the faith of the old Church in the efficacy of divine grace was not so much expressed in the _opuscula_ as in the _prayers_, shows correct insight. 3. All the demands, the fulfilment of which constitutes the virtue and righteousness of men, are summed up under the title of _the new law_. In virtue of its eternally valid content this new law is in reality the oldest; but it is new because Christ and the prophets were preceded by Moses, who inculcated on the Jews in a transient form that which was eternally valid. It is also new because, being proclaimed by the Logos that appeared in Christ, it announced its presence with the utmost impressiveness and undoubted authority, and contains the promise of reward in terms guaranteed by the strongest proof--the proof from prophecy. The old law is consequently a new one because it appears now for the first time as purely spiritual, perfect, and final. The commandment of love to one's neighbour also belongs to the law; but it does not form its essence (still less love to God, the place of which is taken by faith, obedience, and imitation). The content of all moral demands is comprehended in the commandment of perfect, active holiness, which is fulfilled by the complete renunciation of all earthly blessings, even of life itself. Tatian preached this renunciation in a specially powerful manner. There is no need to prove that no remains of Judæo-Christianity are to be recognised in these ideas about the new law. It is not Judæo-Christianity that lies behind the Christianity and doctrines of the Apologists, but Greek philosophy (Platonic metaphysics, Logos doctrine of the Stoics, Platonic and Stoic ethics), the Alexandrine-Jewish apologetics, the maxims of Jesus, and the religious speech of the Christian Churches. Justin is distinguished from Philo by the sure conviction of the living power of God, the Creator and Lord of the world, and the steadfast confidence in the reality of all the ideals which is derived from the person of Christ. We ought not, however, to blame the Apologists because to them nearly everything historical was at bottom only a guarantee of thoughts and hopes. As a matter of fact, the assurance is not less important than the content. By dint of thinking one can conceive the highest truth, but one cannot in this way make out the certainty of its reality. No positive religion can do more for its followers than faith in the revelation through Christ and the prophets did for the Apologists. Although it chiefly proved to them the truth of that which we call natural theology and which was the idealistic philosophy of the age, so that the Church appears as the great insurance society for the ideas of Plato and Zeno, we ought not at the same time to forget that their idea of a divine spirit working upon earth was a far more lively and worthy one than in the case of the Greek philosophers. 4. By their intellectualism and exclusive theories the Apologists founded philosophic and dogmatic Christianity (Loofs: "they laid the foundation for the conversion of Christianity into a revealed doctrine."[459]) If about the middle of the second century the short confession of the Lord Jesus Christ was regarded as a watchword, passport, and _tessera hospitalitas (signum et vinculum)_, and if even in lay and uneducated circles it was conceived as "doctrine" in contradistinction to heresy, this transformation must have been accelerated through men, who essentially conceived Christianity as the "divine doctrine," and by whom all its distinctive features were subordinated to this conception or neutralised. As the philosophic schools are held together by their "laws" ([Greek: nomoi]) as the "dogmas" form the real bond between the "friends," and as, in addition to this, they are united by veneration for the founder, so also the Christian Church appeared to the Apologists as a universal league established by a divine founder and resting _on the dogmas of the perfectly known truth_, a league the members of which possess definite laws, viz., the eternal laws of nature for everything moral, and unite in common veneration for the Divine Master. In the "dogmas" of the Apologists, however, we find nothing more than traces of the fusion of the philosophical and historical elements; in the main both exist separately side by side. It was not till long after this that intellectualism gained the victory in a Christianity represented by the clergy. What we here chiefly understand by "intellectualism" is the placing of the scientific conception of the world behind the commandments of Christian morality and behind the hopes and faith of the Christian religion, and the connecting of the two things in such a way that this conception appeared as the foundation of these commandments and hopes. Thus was created the future dogmatic in the form which still prevails in the Churches and which presupposes the Platonic and Stoic conception of the world long ago overthrown by science. The attempt made at the beginning of the Reformation to free the Christian faith from this amalgamation remained at first without success. Footnotes: [Footnote 340: Edition by Otto, 9 Vols., 1876 f. New edition of the Apologists (unfinished; only Tatian and Athenagoras by Schwarz have yet appeared) in the Texte und Untersuchungen zur altchristlichen Litteratur-Geschichte, Vol. IV. Tzschirner, Geschichte der Apologetik, 1st part, 1805; id., Der Fall des Heidenthums, 1829. Ehlers, Vis atque potestas, quam philosophia antiqua, imprimis Platonica et Stoica in doctrina apologetarum habuerit, 1859.] [Footnote 341: It is intrinsically probable that their works directly addressed to the Christian Church gave a more full exposition of their Christianity than we find in the Apologies. This can moreover be proved with certainty from the fragments of Justin's, Tatian's and Melito's esoteric writings. But, whilst recognising this fact, we must not make the erroneous assumption that the fundamental conceptions and interests of Justin and the rest were in reality other than may be inferred from their Apologies.] [Footnote 342: That is, so far as these were clearly connected with polytheism. Where this was not the case or seemed not to be so, national traditions, both the true and the spurious, were readily and joyfully admitted into the _catalogus testimoniorum_ of revealed truth.] [Footnote 343: Though these words were already found in the first edition, Clemen (Justin 1890, p. 56) has misunderstood me so far as to think that I spoke here of conscious intention on the part of the Apologists. Such nonsense of course never occurred to me.] [Footnote 344: Note here particularly the attitude of Tatian, who has already introduced a certain amount of the "Gnostic" element into his "Oratio ad Græcos," although, he adheres in the main to the ordinary apologetic doctrines.] [Footnote 345: Since the time of Josephus Greek philosophers had ever more and more acknowledged the "philosophical" character of Judaism; see Porphyr., de abstin. anim. II. 26, [Greek: hate philosophoi to genos ontes.]] [Footnote 346: On the relation of Christian literature to the writings of Philo, of Siegfried, Philo von Alexandrien, p. 303 f.] [Footnote 347: It is very instructive to find Celsus (Origen, c. Cels. I. 2) proceeding to say that the Greeks understood better how to judge, to investigate, and to perfect the doctrines devised by the barbarians, and to apply them to the practice of virtue. This is quite in accordance with the idea of Origen, who makes the following remarks on this point: "When a man trained in the schools and sciences of the Greeks becomes acquainted with our faith, he will not only recognise and declare it to be true, but also by means of his scientific training and skill reduce it to a system and supplement what seems to him defective in it, when tested by the Greek method of exposition and proof, thus at the same time demonstrating the truth of Christianity."] [Footnote 348: See the section "Justin und die apostolischen Váter" in Engelhardt's "Christenthum Justin's des Martyrers," p. 375 ff., and my article on the so-called 2nd Epistle of Clement to the Corinthians (Zeitschrift für Kirchengeschichte I. p. 329 ff.). Engelhardt, who on the whole emphasises the correspondences, has rather under- than over-estimated them. If the reader compares the exposition given in Book I., chap. 3, with the theology of the Apologists (see sub. 3), he will find proof of the intimate relationship that may be traced here.] [Footnote 349: See Euseb., H. E. IV. 3. Only one sentence of Quadratus' Apology is preserved; we have now that of Aristides in the Syriac language; moreover, it is proved to have existed in the original language in the Historia Barlaam et Joasaph; finally, a considerable fragment of it is found in Armenian. See an English edition by Harris and Robinson in the Texts and Studies I. 1891. German translation and commentary by Raabe in the Texte und Untersuchungen IX. 1892. Eusebius says that the Apology was handed in to the emperor Hadrian; but the superscription in Syriac is addressed to the emperor Titus Hadrianus Antoninus.] [Footnote 350: See Hermas, Mand I.] [Footnote 351: With reservations this also holds good of the Alexandrians. See particularly Orig., c. Cels. I. 62.] [Footnote 352: Semisch, Justin der Martyrer, 2 Vols, 1840 f. Aubé, S Justin, philosophe et martyre, 2nd reprint, 1875. Weizsäcker, Die Theologie des Martyrers Justin's in the Jahrbuch fur deutsche Theologie, 1867, p. 60 ff. Von Engelhardt, Christenthum Justin's, 1878; id, "Justin," in Herzog's Real-Encyklopädie. Stählin, Justin der Martyrer, 1880 Clemen, Die religionsphilosophische Bedeutung des stoisch-christlichen Eudamonismus in Justin's Apologie, 1890. Flemming, zur Beurtheilung des Christenthums Justin's des Martyrers, 1893. Duncker, Logoslehre Justin's, 1848. Bosse, Der prae istente Christus des Justinus, 1891.] [Footnote 353: Apol. I. 2, p. 6, ed. Otto.] [Footnote 354: Apol. I. 2, p. 6, sq.] [Footnote 355: See the numerous philosophical quotations and allusions in Justin's Apology pointed out by Otto. Above all, he made an extensive use of Plato's Apology of Socrates.] [Footnote 356: Apol. I. 4. p. 16, also I. 7, p. 24 sq: I. 26.] [Footnote 357: Apol. I. 4, p. 14.] [Footnote 358: Apol. I. 5, p. 18 sq., see also I. 14 fin.: [Greek: ou sophistês hupêrchen alla dunamis Theou ho logos autou ên.]] [Footnote 359: L.c.: [Greek: ou gar monon en Hellêsi dia Sôkratous hupo logou êlegchthêtauta, alla kai en barbarois hup' autou tou logou morphôthentos kai anthrôpou kai Iêsou Christou klêthenos.]] [Footnote 360: Celsus also admits this, or rather makes his Jew acknowledge it (Orig., c. Cels. II. 31). In Book VI. 47 he adopts the proposition of the "ancients" that the world is the Son of God.] [Footnote 361: See Apol. II. 10 fin.: [Greek: Sôkratei oudeis epeisthê huper toutou tou dogmatos apothnêskin Christô de tô kai hupo Sôkratous apo merous gnôsthenti ... ou philosophoi oude philologoi monon epeisthêsan.]] [Footnote 362: The utterances of Justin do not clearly indicate whether the non-Christian portion of mankind has only a [Greek: sperma tou logon] as a natural possession, or whether this [Greek: sperma] has in some cases been enhanced by the inward workings of the whole Logos (inspiration). This ambiguity, however, arises from the fact that he did not further discuss the relation between [Greek: ho logos] and [Greek: to sperma tou logou] and we need not therefore attempt to remove it. On the one hand, the excellent discoveries of poets and philosophers are simply traced to [Greek: to emphuton panti genei anthrôpôn sperma tou logou] (Apol. II. 8), the [Greek: meros spermatikou logou] (ibid) which was implanted at the creation, and on which the human [Greek: heuresis kai theôria] depend (II. 10). In this sense it may be said of them all that they "in human fashion attempted to understand and prove things by means of reason;" and Socrates is merely viewed as the [Greek: pantôn eutonôteros] (ibid.), his philosophy also, like all pre-Christian systems, being a [Greek: philosophia anthrôpeios] (II. 15). But on the other hand Christ was known by Socrates though only [Greek: apo merous]; for "Christ was and is the Logos who dwells in every man." Further, according to the Apologist, the [Greek: meros tou spermatikou theiou logou] bestows the power of recognising whatever is related to the Logos ([Greek: to sungenes] II. 13). Consequently it may not only be said: [Greek: hosa para pasi kalôs eirêtai hêmôn, tôn Christianôn esti] (ibid.), but, on the strength of the "participation" in reason conferred on all, it may be asserted that all who have lived with the Logos ([Greek: meta logou])--an expression which must have been ambiguous--were Christians. Among the Greeks this specially applies to Socrates and Heraclitus (I. 46). Moreover, the Logos implanted in man does not belong to his nature in such a sense as to prevent us saying [Greek: upo logou dia Sôkratous êlegchthê k.t.l.] (I. 5). Nevertheless [Greek: autos ho logos] did not act in Socrates, for this only appeared in Christ (ibid). Hence the prevailing aspect of the case in Justin was that to which he gave expression at the close of the 2nd Apology (II. 15: alongside of Christianity there is only _human_ philosophy), and which, not without regard for the opposite view, he thus formulated in II. 13 fin.: All non-Christian authors were able to attain a knowledge of true being, though only darkly, by means of the seed of the Logos naturally implanted within them. For the [Greek: spora] and [Greek: mimêma] of a thing, which are bestowed in proportion to one's receptivity, are quite different from the thing itself, which divine grace bestows on us for our possession and imitation.] [Footnote 363: "For the sake of man" (Stoic) Apol. I. 10: II. 4, 5; Dial. 41, p. 260, Apol I. 8: "Longing for the eternal and pure life, we strive to abide in the fellowship of God, the Father and Creator of all things, and we hasten to make confession, because we are convinced and firmly believe that that happiness is really attainable." It is frequently asserted that it is the Logos which produces such conviction and awakens courage and strength.] [Footnote 364: Justin has destroyed the force of this argument in two passages (I. 44, 59) by tracing (like the Alexandrian Jews) all true knowledge of the poets and philosophers to borrowing from the books of the Old Testament (Moses). Of what further use then is the [Greek: sperma logos emphuton]? Did Justin not really take it seriously? Did he merely wish to suit himself to those whom he was addressing? We are not justified in asserting this. Probably, however, the adoption of that Jewish view of the history of the world is a proof that the results of the demon sovereignty were in Justin's estimation so serious that he no longer expected anything from the [Greek: sperma logos emphuton] when left to its own resources; and therefore regarded truth and prophetic revelation as inseparable. But this view is not the essential one in the Apology. That assumption of Justin's is evidently dependent on a tradition, whilst his real opinion was more "liberal."] [Footnote 365: Compare with this the following passages: In Apol. I. 20 are enumerated a series of the most important doctrines common to philosophers and Christians. Then follow the words: "If we then in particular respects even teach something similar to the doctrines of the philosophers honoured among you, though in many cases in a divine and more sublime way; and we indeed alone do so in such a way that the matter is proved etc." In Apol. I. 44: II. 10. 13 uncertainty, error, and contradictions are shown to exist in the case of the greatest philosophers. The Christian doctrines are more sublime than all human philosophy (II. 15). "Our doctrines are evidently more sublime than any human teaching, because the Christ who appeared for our sakes was the whole fulness of reason" ([Greek: to logikon to holon], II. 10). "The principles of Plato are not foreign ([Greek: allotria]) to the teaching of Christ, but they do not agree in every respect. The same holds good of the Stoics" (II. 13). "We must go forth from the school of Plato" (II. 12). "Socrates convinced no one in such a way that he would have been willing to die for the doctrine proclaimed by him; whereas not only philosophers and philologers, but also artisans and quite common uneducated people have believed in Christ" (II. 10). These are the very people--and that is perhaps the strongest contrast found between Logos and Logos in Justin--among whom it is universally said of Christianity: [Greek: dunamis esti tou arrêtou patros kai ouchi anthrôpeiou logou kataskeuê] (see also I. 14 and elsewhere.)] [Footnote 366: In Justin's estimate of the Greek philosophers two other points deserve notice. In the first place, he draws a very sharp distinction between real and nominal philosophers. By the latter he specially means the Epicureans. They are no doubt referred to in I. 4, 7, 26 (I. 14: Atheists). Epicurus and Sardanapalus are classed together in II. 7; Epicurus and the immoral poets in II. 12; and in the conclusion of II, 15 the same philosopher is ranked with the worst society. But according to II. 3 fin. ([Greek: adunaton Kunikô, adiaphoron to telos prothemenô, to agathon eidenai plên adikphorias]) the Cynics also seem to be outside the circle of real philosophers. This is composed principally of Socrates, Plato, the Platonists and Stoics, together with Heraclitus and others. Some of these understood one set of doctrines more correctly, others another series. The Stoics excelled in ethics (II. 7); Plato described the Deity and the world more correctly. It is, however, worthy of note--and this is the second point--that Justin in principle conceived the Greek philosophers as a unity, and that he therefore saw in their very deviations from one another a proof of the imperfection of their teaching. In so far as they are all included under the collective idea "human philosophy," philosophy is characterised by the conflicting opinions found within it. This view was suggested to Justin by the fact that the highest truth, which is at once allied and opposed to human philosophy, was found by him among an exclusive circle of fellow-believers. Justin showed great skill in selecting from the Gospels the passages (I. 15-17), that prove the "philosophical" life of the Christians as described by him in c. 14. Here he cannot be acquitted of colouring the facts (cf. Aristides) nor of exaggeration (see, for instance, the unqualified statement: [Greek: ha echomen eis koinon pherontes kai panti deomenô koinônountes]). The philosophical emperors were meant here to think of the "[Greek: philois panta koina]." Yet in I. 67 Justin corrected exaggerations in his description. Justin's reference to the invaluable benefits which Christianity confers on the state deserves notice (see particularly I. 12, 17.) The later Apologists make a similar remark.] [Footnote 367: Dialogue 8. The dialogue takes up a more positive attitude than the Apology, both as a whole and in detail. If we consider that both works are also meant for Christians, and that, on the other hand, the Dialogue as well as the Apology appeals to the cultured heathen public, we may perhaps assume that the two writings were meant to present a graduated system of Christian instruction. (In one passage the Dialogue expressly refers to the Apology.) From Justin's time onward the apologetic polemic of the early Church appears to have adhered throughout to the same method. This consisted in giving the polemical writings directed against the Greeks the form of an introduction to Christian knowledge, and in continuing this instruction still further in those directed against the Jews.] [Footnote 368: Dial. 2. sq. That Justin's Christianity is founded on theoretical scepticism is clearly shown by the introduction to the Dialogue.] [Footnote 369: Dial. 8: [Greek: houtôs dê kai dia tauta philosophos egô].] [Footnote 370: Dial., l.c.: [Greek: parestin soi ton Christon tou Theou epignonti kai teleiô genomenô eudaimonein].] [Footnote 371: See particularly the closing chapter.] [Footnote 372: Suppl. 2,] [Footnote 373: Suppl. 4.] [Footnote 374: Suppl. 5-7.] [Footnote 375: Suppl. 24 (see also Aristides c. 13).] [Footnote 376: Suppl, 7 fin. and many other places.] [Footnote 377: _E.g._, Suppl. 8. 35 fin.] [Footnote 378: The Crucified Man, the incarnation of the Logos etc. are wanting. Nothing at all is said about Christ.] [Footnote 379: Suppl. 7.] [Footnote 380: Cf. the arguments in c. 8 with c. 9 init.] [Footnote 381: Suppl. 11.] [Footnote 382: Suppl. 23.] [Footnote 383: Suppl. 18, 23-27. He, however, as well as the others, sets forth the demon theory in detail.] [Footnote 384: The Apology which Miltiades addressed to Marcus Aurelius and his fellow-emperor perhaps bore the title: [Greek: huper tês kata Christianous philosophias] (Euseb., H. E. V. 17. 5). It is certain that Melito in his Apology designated Christianity as [Greek: hê kath' hêmas philosophia] (l.c., IV. 26. 7). But, while it is undeniable that this writer attempted, to a hitherto unexampled extent, to represent Christianity as adapted to the Empire, we must nevertheless beware of laying undue weight on the expression "philosophy." What Melito means chiefly to emphasise is the fact that Christianity, which in former times had developed into strength among the barbarians, began to flourish in the provinces of the Empire simultaneously with the rise of the monarchy under Augustus, that as foster-sister of the monarchy, it increased in strength with the latter, and that this mutual relation of the two institutions had given prosperity and splendour to the state. When in the fragments preserved to us he twice, in this connection, calls Christianity "philosophy," we must note that this expression alternates with the other "[Greek: ho kath' hêmas logos]", and that he uses the formula: "Thy forefathers held this philosophy in honour along with the other cults" [Greek: pros tais allais thrêskeichis]. This excludes the assumption that Melito in his Apology merely represented Christian as philosophy (see also IV. 26. 5, where the Christians are called "[Greek: to tôn theosebôn genos]"). He also wrote a treatise [Greek: peri ktiseôs kai geneseôs Christou]. In it (fragment in the Chron. Pasch) he called Christ [Greek: Theou logos pro aiônôn].] [Footnote 385: See my treatise "Tatian's Rede an die Griechen übers." 1884 (Giessener Programm). Daniel, Tatianus, 1837. Steuer, Die Gottes- und Logoslehre des Tatian, 1893.] [Footnote 386: But see Orat. 4 init., 24 fin., 25 fin., 27 init.] [Footnote 387: He not only accentuated the disagreement of philosophers more strongly than Justin, but insisted more energetically than that Apologist on the necessity of viewing the practical fruits of philosophy in life as a criterion; see Orat. 2, 3, 19, 25. Nevertheless Socrates still found grace in his eyes (c. 3). With regard to other philosophers he listened to foolish and slanderous gossip.] [Footnote 388: Orat. 13, 15 fin., 20. Tatian also gave credence to it because it imparts such an intelligible picture of the creation of the world (c. 29).] [Footnote 389: Orat. 12: [Greek: ta tês hêmeteras paideias estin anôterô tês kosmikês katalêpseôs]. Tatian troubled himself very little with giving demonstrations. No other Apologist made such bold assertions.] [Footnote 390: See Orat. 12 (p. 54 fin.), 20 (p. 90), 25 fin., 26 fin., 29, 30 (p. 116), 13 (p. 62), 15 (p. 70), 36 (p. 142), 40 (p. 152 sq.). The section cc. 12-15 of the Oratio is very important (see also c. 7 ff); for it shows that Tatian denied the natural immortality of the soul, declared the soul (the material spirit) to be something inherent in all matter, and accordingly looked on the distinction between men and animals in respect of their inalienable natural constitution as only one of degree. According to this Apologist the dignity of man does not consist in his natural endowments: but in the union of the human soul with the divine spirit, for which union indeed he was planned. But, in Tatian's opinion, man lost this union by falling under the sovereignty of the demons. The Spirit of God has left him, and consequently he has fallen back to the level of the beasts. So it is man's task to unite the Spirit again with himself, and thereby recover that religious principle on which all wisdom and knowledge rest. This anthropology is opposed to that of the Stoics and related to the "Gnostic" theory. It follows from it that man, in order to reach his destination, must raise himself above his natural endowment; see c. 15: [Greek: anthrôpon legô ton porrô men anthrôptêtos pros auton de ton Theon kechôrêkota]. But with Tatian this conception is burdened with radical inconsistency; for he assumes that the Spirit reunites itself with every man who rightly uses his freedom, and he thinks it still possible for every person to use his freedom aright (11 fin., 13 fin., 15 fin.) So it is after all a mere assertion that the natural man is only distinguished from the beast by speech. He is also distinguished from it by freedom. And further it is only in appearance that the blessing bestowed in the "Spirit" is a _donum superadditum et supernaturale_. For if a proper spontaneous use of freedom infallibly leads to the return of the Spirit, it is evident that the decision and consequently the realisation of man's destination depend on human freedom. That is, however, the proposition which all the Apologists maintained. But indeed Tatian himself in his latter days seems to have observed the inconsistency in which he had become involved and to have solved the problem in the Gnostic, that is, the religious sense. In his eyes, of course, the ordinary philosophy is a useless and pernicious art; philosophers make their own opinions laws (c. 27); whereas of Christians the following holds good (c. 32): [Greek: logou tou dêmosiou kai epigeiou kechôrismenoi kai peithomenoi theou parangelmasi kai nomô patros aphtharsias hepomenoi, pan to en doxê keimenon anthrôpinê paraitoumetha].] [Footnote 391: C. 31. init.: [Greek: hê hêmetera philosophia]. 32 (p. 128): [Greek: hoi boulomenoi philosophein par' hêmin anthrôpoi]. In c. 33 (p. 130) Christian women are designated [Greek: hai par hêmin philosophousai]. C. 35: [Greek: hê kath' hêmas barbaros philosophia]. 40 (p. 152): [Greek: hoi kata Môusea kai homoiôs autô philosophountes]. 42: [Greek: ho kata barbarous philosophôn Tatianos]. The [Greek: dogmata] of the Christians: c. 1 (p. 2), 12 (p. 58), 19 (p. 86), 24 (p. 102), 27 (p. 108), 35 (p. 138), 40, 42. But Tatian pretty frequently calls Christianity "[Greek: hê hêmetera paideia]", once also "[Greek: nomothesia]" (12; cf. 40: [Greek: hoi hêmeteroi nomoi]), and often [Greek: politeia].] [Footnote 392: See, e.g., c. 29 fin.: the Christian doctrine gives us [Greek: ouch hoper mê elabomen, all' hoper labontes hupo tês planês echein ekoluthêmen].] [Footnote 393: Tatian gave still stronger expression than Justin to the opinion that it is the demons who have misled men and rule the world, and that revelation through the prophets is opposed to this demon rule; see c. 7 ff. The demons have fixed the laws of death; see c. 15 fin. and elsewhere.] [Footnote 394: Tatian also cannot at bottom distinguish between revelation through the prophets and through Christ. See the description of his conversion in c. 29. where only the Old Testament writings are named, and c. 13 fin., 20 fin.. 12 (p. 54) etc.] [Footnote 395: Knowledge and life appear in Tatian most closely connected. See, e.g., c. 13 init.: "In itself the soul is not immortal, but mortal; it is also possible, however, that it may not die. If it has not attained a knowledge of that truth it dies and is dissolved with the body; but later, at the end of the world, it will rise again with the body in order to receive death in endless duration as a punishment. On the contrary it does not die, though it is dissolved for a time, if it is equipped with the knowledge of God."] [Footnote 396: Barbarian: the Christian doctrines are [Greek: ta tôn barbarôn dogmata] (c. 1): [Greek: kath' hêmas barbaros philosophia] (c. 35); [Greek: hê barbarikê nomothesia] (c. 12); [Greek: graphai barbarikai] (c. 29); [Greek: kainotomein ta barbarôn dogmata] (c. 35); [Greek: ho kata barbarous philosophôn Tatianos] (c. 42); [Greek: Môusês pasês barbarou philosophias archêgos] (c. 31); see also c. 30, 32. In Tatian's view barbarians and Greeks are the decisive contrasts in history.] [Footnote 397: See the proof from antiquity, c. 31 ff.] [Footnote 398: C. 30 (p. 114): [Greek: toutôn oun tên katalêpsin memuêmenos].] [Footnote 399: Tatian's own confession is very important here (c. 26): "Whilst I was reflecting on what was good it happened that there fell into my hands certain writings of the barbarians, too old to be compared with the doctrines of the Greeks, too divine to be compared with their errors. And it chanced that they convinced me through the plainness of their expressions, through the unartificial nature of their language, through the intelligible representation of the creation of the world, through the prediction of the future, the excellence of their precepts, and the summing up of all kinds under one head. My soul was instructed by God and I recognised that those Greek doctrines lead to perdition, whereas the others abolish the slavery to which we are subjected in the world, and rescue us from our many lords and tyrants, though they do not give us blessings we had not already received, but rather such as we had indeed obtained, but were not able to retain in consequence of error." Here the whole theology of the Apologists is contained _in nuce_; see Justin, Dial. 7-8. In Chaps. 32, 33 Tatian strongly emphasises the fact that the Christian philosophy is accessible even to the most uneducated; see Justin, Apol. II. 10; Athenag. 11 etc.] [Footnote 400: The unknown author of the [Greek: Logos pros Ellênas] also formed the same judgment as Tatian (Corp. Apolog., T. III., p. 2 sq., ed. Otto; a Syrian translation, greatly amplified, is found in the Cod. Nitr. Mus. Britt. Add. 14658. It was published by Cureton, Spic. Syr., p. 38 sq. with an English translation). Christianity is an incomparable heavenly wisdom, the teacher of which is the Logos himself. "It produces neither poets, nor philosophers, nor rhetoricians; but it makes mortals immortal and men gods, and leads them away upwards from the earth into super-Olympian regions." Through Christian knowledge the soul returns to its Creator: [Greek: dei gar apokatatathênai othen apestê].] [Footnote 401: Nor is Plato "[Greek: ho dokôn en autois semnoteron pephilosophêkenai]" any better than Epicurus and the Stoics (III. 6). Correct views which are found in him in a greater measure than in the others ([Greek: ho dokôn Hellênôn sophôteros gegenêsthai]), did not prevent him from giving way to the stupidest babbling (III. 16). Although he knew that the full truth can only be learned from God himself through the law (III. 17), he indulged in the most foolish guesses concerning the beginning of history. But where guesses find a place, truth is not to be found (III. 16: [Greek: ei de eikasmô, ouk ara alêthê estin ta hup' autou eirêmena]).] [Footnote 402: Theophilus confesses (I. 14) exactly as Tatian does: [Greek: kai gar egô êpistoun touto esesthai, alla nun katanoêsas auta pisteuô, hama kai epituchôn hierais graphais tôn agiôn prophêtôn, hoi kai proeipon dia pneumatos Theou ti progegonota ô tropô gegonen kai ta enestôta tini tropô ginetai, kai ta eperchomena poia taxei apartisthêsetai. Apodeixin oun labôn tôn ginomenôn kai proanapephônêmenôn ouk apistô]; see also II. 8-10, 22, 30, 33-35: III. 10, 11, 17. Theophilus merely looks on the Gospel as a continuation of the prophetic revelations and injunctions. Of Christ, however, he did not speak at all, but only of the Logos (Pneuma), which has operated from the beginning. To Theophilus the first chapters of Genesis already contain the sum of all Christian knowledge (II. 10-32).] [Footnote 403: See II. 8: [Greek: hupo daimonôn de empneusthentes kai hup' autôn phusiôthentes ha eipon di' autôn eipon].] [Footnote 404: The unknown author of the work _de resurrectione_, which goes under the name of Justin (Corp. Apol., Vol. III.) has given a surprising expression to the thought that it is simply impossible to give a demonstration of truth. ([Greek: O men tês alêtheias logos estin eleutheroste kai autexousios, upo mêdemian basanon elegchou thelôn piptein mêde tên para tois akouousi di' apodeixeôs exetasin hupomenein. To gar eugenes autou kai pepoithos autô tô pempsanti pisteuesthai thelei]). He inveighs in the beginning of his treatise against all rationalism, and on the one hand professes a sort of materialistic theory of knowledge, whilst on the other, for that very reason, he believes in inspiration and the authority of revelation; for all truth originates with revelation, since God himself and God alone is the truth. Christ revealed this truth and is for us [Greek: tôn olôn pistis kai apodeixis]. But it is far from probable that the author would really have carried this proposition to its logical conclusion (Justin, Dial. 3 ff. made a similar start). He wishes to meet his adversaries "armed with the arguments of faith which are unconquered" (c. 1, p. 214), but the arguments of faith are still the arguments of reason. Among these he regarded it as most important that even according to the theories about the world, that is, about God and matter, held by the "so-called sages," Plato, Epicurus, and the Stoics, the assumption of a resurrection of the flesh is not irrational (c. 6, p. 228 f.). Some of these, viz., Pythagoras and Plato, also acknowledged the immortality of the soul. But, for that very reason, this view is not sufficient, "for if the Redeemer had only brought the message of the (eternal) life of the soul what new thing would he have proclaimed in addition to what had been made known by Pythagoras, Plato, and the band of their adherents?" (c. 10, p. 246.) This remark is very instructive, for it shows what considerations led the Apologists to adhere to the belief in the resurrection of the body. Zahn, (Zeitschrift fur Kirchengeschichte, Vol. VIII., pp. 1 f., 20 f.) has lately reassigned to Justin himself the fragment de resurr. His argument, though displaying great plausibility, has nevertheless not fully convinced me. The question is of great importance for fixing the relation of Justin to Paul. I shall not discuss Hermias' "Irrisio Gentilium Philosophorum," as the period when this Christian disputant flourished is quite uncertain. We still possess an early-Church Apology in Pseudo-Melito's "Oratio ad Antoninum Cæsarem" (Otto, Corp. Apol. IX., p. 423 sq.). This book is preserved (written?) in the Syrian language and was addressed to Caracalla or Heliogabalus (preserved in the Cod. Nitr. Mus. Britt. Add. 14658). It is probably dependent on Justin, but it is less polished and more violent than his Apology.] [Footnote 405: Massebieau (Revue de l'histoire des religions, 1887, Vol. XV. No. 3) has convinced me that Minucius wrote at a later period than Tertullian and made use of his works.] [Footnote 406: Cf. the plan of the "Octavius." The champion of heathenism here opposed to the Christian is a philosopher representing the standpoint of the middle Academy. This presupposes, as a matter of course, that the latter undertakes the defence of the Stoical position. See, besides, the corresponding arguments in the Apology of Tertullian, e.g., c. 17, as well as his tractate: "de testimonio animæ naturaliter Christianæ." We need merely mention that the work of Minucius is throughout dependent on Cicero's book, "de natura deorum." In this treatise he takes up a position more nearly akin to heathen syncretism than Tertullian.] [Footnote 407: In R. Kühn's investigation ("Der Octavius des Min. Felix," Leipzig, 1882)--the best special work we possess on an early Christian Apology from the point of view of the history of dogma--based on a very careful analysis of the Octavius, more emphasis is laid on the difference than on the agreement between Minucius and the Greek Apologists. The author's exposition requires to be supplemented in the latter respect (see Theologische Litteratur-Zeitung, 1883, No. 6).] [Footnote 408: C. 20: "Exposui opiniones omnium ferme philosophorum.... ut quivis arbitretur, aut nunc Christianos philosophos esse aut philosophos fuisse jam tunc Christianos."] [Footnote 409: See Minucius, 31 ff. A quite similar proceeding is already found in Tertullian, who in his _Apologeticum_ has everywhere given a Stoic colouring to Christian ethics and rules of life, and in c. 39 has drawn a complete veil over the peculiarity of the Christian societies.] [Footnote 410: Tertullian has done exactly the same thing; see Apolog. 46 (and de præscr. 7.)] [Footnote 411: Tertull., de testim. I.: "Sed non eam te (animam) advoco, quæ scholis formata, bibliothecis exercitata, academiis et porticibus Atticis pasta sapientiam ructas. Te simplicem et rudem et impoliitam et idioticam compello, qualem te habent qui te solam habent... Imperitia tua mihi opus est, quoniam aliquantulæ peritiæ tuæ nemo credit."] [Footnote 412: Tertull., Apol. 46: "Quid simile philosophus et Christianas? Græciæ discipulus et coeli?" de præscr. 7: "Quid ergo Athenis et Hierosolymis? Quid academiæ et ecclesiæ?" Minuc. 38.5: "Philosophorum supercilia contemnimus, quos corruptores et adulteros novimus... nos, qui non habitu sapientiam sed mente præferimus, non eloquimur magna sed vivimus, gloriamur nos consecutos, quod illi summa intentione quæsiverunt nec invenire potuerunt. Quid ingrati sumus, quid nobis invidemus, si veritas divinitatis nostri temporis ælate maturuit?"] [Footnote 413: Minucius did not enter closely into the significance of Christ any more than Tatian, Athenagoras, and Theophilus; he merely touched upon it (9. 4: 29. 2). He also viewed Christianity as the teaching of the Prophets; whoever acknowledges the latter must of necessity adore the crucified Christ. Tertullian was accordingly the first Apologist after Justin who again considered it necessary to give a detailed account of Christ as the incarnation of the Logos (see the 21st chapter of the Apology in its relation to chaps. 17-20).] [Footnote 414: Among the Greek Apologists the unknown author of the work "de Monarchia," which bears the name of Justin, has given clearest expression to this conception. He is therefore most akin to Minucius (see chap. I.). Here monotheism is designated as the [Greek: katholikê doxa] which has fallen into oblivion through bad habit; for [Greek: tês anthrôpinês phuseôs to kat' archên suzugian suneseôs kai sôtêrias labousês eis epignôsin alêtheias thrêskeias te tês eis ton hena kai pantôn despotên.] According to this, then, only an awakening is required.] [Footnote 415: But almost all the Apologists acknowledged that heathendom possessed prophets. They recognise these in the Sibyls and the old poets. The author of the work "de Monarchia" expressed the most pronounced views in regard to this. Hermas (Vis. II. 4), however, shows that the Apologists owed this notion also to an idea that was widespread among Christian people.] [Footnote 416: See Justin, Apol. I. 31, Dial. 7, p. 30 etc.] [Footnote 417: See Tatian, c. 31 ff.] [Footnote 418: In the New Testament the content of the Christian faith is now here designated as dogma. In Clement (I. 11.), Hermas, and Polycarp the word is not found at all; yet Clement (I. 20. 4, 27. 5) called the divine order of nature [Greek: ta dedogmatismena hupo Theou]. In Ignatius (ad Magn. XIII. 1) we read: [Greek: spoudazete oun bebaiôthênai en tois dogmasin tou kuriou kai tôn apostolôn], but [Greek: dogmata] here exclusively mean the rules of life (see Zahn on this passage), and this is also their signification in [Greek: Didachê] XI. 3. In the Epistle of Barnabas we read in several passages (I. 6: IX. 7: X. 1, 9 f.) of "dogmas of the Lord;" but by these he means partly particular mysteries, partly divine dispensations. Hence the Apologists are the first to apply the word to the Christian faith, in accordance with the language of philosophy. They are also the first who employed the ideas [Greek: theologein] and [Greek: theologia]. The latter word is twice found in Justin (Dial. 56) in the sense of "aliquem nominare deum." In Dial. 113, however, it has the more comprehensive sense of "to make religio-scientific investigations." Tatian (10) also used the word in the first sense; on the contrary he entitled a book of which he was the author "[Greek: pros tous apophênamenous ta peri Theou]" and not "[Greek: pros tous theologountas]". In Athenagoras (Suppl. 10) theology is the doctrine of God and of all beings to whom the predicate "Deity" belongs (see also 20, 22). That is the old usage of the word. It was thus employed by Tertullian in ad nat. II. 1 (the threefold division of theology; in II. 2, 3 the expression "theologia physica, mythica" refers to this); Cohort, ad Gr. 3, 22. The anonymous writer in Eusebius (H. E. V. 28. 4, 5) is instructive on the point. Brilliant demonstrations of the ancient use of the word "theology" are found in Natorp, Thema und Disposition der aristotelischen Metaphysik (Philosophische Monatshefte, 1887, Parts I and 2, pp. 55-64). The title "theology," as applied to a philosophic discipline, was first used by the Stoics; the old poets were previously called "theologians," and the "theological" stage was the prescientific one which is even earlier than the "childhood" of "physicists" (so Aristotle speaks throughout). To the Fathers of the Church also the old poets are still [Greek: hoi palaioi theologoi]. But side by side with this we have an adoption of the Stoic view that there is also a philosophical theology, because the teaching of the old poets concerning the gods conceals under the veil of myth a treasure of philosophical truth. In the Stoa arose the "impossible idea of a 'theology' which is to be philosophy, that is, knowledge based on reason, and yet to have positive religion as the foundation of its certainty." The Apologists accepted this, but added to it the distinction of a [Greek: kosmikê] and [Greek: theologikê sophia.]] [Footnote 419: Christ has a relation to all three parts of the scheme, (1) as [Greek: logos]; (2) as [Greek: nomos, nomothetês], and [Greek: kritês]; (3) as [Greek: didaskalos] and [Greek: sotêr].] [Footnote 420: In the reproduction of the apologetical theology historians of dogma have preferred to follow Justin; but here they have constantly overlooked the fact that Justin was the most Christian among the Apologists, and that the features of his teaching to which particular value is rightly attached, are either not found in the others at all (with the exception of Tertullian), or else in quite rudimentary form. It is therefore proper to put the doctrines common to all the Apologists in the foreground, and to describe what is peculiar to Justin as such, so far as it agree with New Testament teachings or contains an anticipation of the future tenor of dogma.] [Footnote 421: Cicero's proposition (de nat. deor. II. 66. 167): "nemo vir magnus sine aliquo afflatu divino unquam fuit," which was the property of all the idealistic philosophers of the age, is found in the Apologists reproduced in the most various forms (see, e.g., Tatian 29). That all knowledge of the truth, both among the prophets and those who follow their teaching, is derived from inspiration was in their eyes a matter of certainty. But here they were only able to frame a theory in the case of the prophets; for such a theory strictly applied to all would have threatened the spontaneous character of the knowledge of the truth.] [Footnote 422: Justin, Apol. I. 3: [Greek: Hêmeteron oun ergon kai biou kai mathêmatôn tên episkepsin pasi parechein].] [Footnote 423: See the exposition of the doctrine of God in Aristides with the conclusion found in all the Apologists, that God requires no offerings and presents.] [Footnote 424: Even Tatian says in c. 19: [Greek: Kosmou men gar ê kataskeuê kalê, to de en autô politeuma phaulon].] [Footnote 425: Tatian 5: [Greek: Oute anarchos ê hulê kathaper ho Theos, oude dia to anarchon kai autê isodunamos tô Theô gennêtê de kai ouch hupo tou allou gegonuia monon de hupo tou pantôn dêmiourgou probeblêmenê]. 12. Even Justin does not seem to have taught otherwise, though that is not quite certain; see Apol. I. 10, 59, 64, 67: II. 6. Theophilus I. 4: II. 4, 10, 13 says very plainly: [Greek: ex ouk ontôn ta panta epoiêsen.... ti de mega, ei ho theos ex hupokeimenês hulês epoiei ton kosmon].] [Footnote 426: Hence the knowledge of God and the right knowledge of the world are most closely connected; see Tatian 27: [Greek: hê Theou katalêpsis ên echô peri tôn holôn].] [Footnote 427: The beginning of the fifth chapter of Tatian's Oration is specially instructive here.] [Footnote 428: According to what has been set forth in the text it is incorrect to assert that the Apologists adopted the Logos doctrine in order to reconcile monotheism with the divine honours paid to the crucified Christ. The truth rather is that the Logos doctrine was already part of their creed before they gave any consideration to the person of the historical Christ, and _vice versâ_ Christ's right to divine honours was to them a matter of certainty independently of the Logos doctrine.] [Footnote 429: We find the distinction of Logos (Son) and Spirit in Justin, Apol. I. 5, and in every case where he quotes formulæ (if we are not to assume the existence of interpolation in the text, which seems to me not improbable; see now also Cramer in the Theologische Studien, 1893. pp. 17 ff., 138 ff.). In Tatian 13 fin. the Spirit is represented as [Greek: ho diakonos tou peponthotos Theou]. The conception in Justin, Dial. 116, is similar. Father, Word, and prophetic Spirit are spoken of in Athenag. 10. The express designation [Greek: trias] is first found in Theophilus (but see the Excerpta ex Theodoto); see II. 15: [Greek: hai treis hêmerai tupoi heisin tês triados, tou Theou kai tou logou autou kai tês sophias autou]; see II. 10, 18. But it is just in Theophilus that the difficulty of deciding between Logos and Wisdom appears with special plainness (II. 10). The interposition of the host of good angels between Son and Spirit found in Justin, Apol. I. 5 (see Athenag.), is exceedingly striking. We have, however, to notice, provided the text is right, (1) that this interposition is only found in a single passage, (2) that Justin wished to refute the reproach of [Greek: atheotês], (3) that the placing of the Spirit after the angels does not necessarily imply a position inferior to theirs, but merely a subordination to the Son and the Father common to the Spirit and the angels, (4) that the good angels were also invoked by the Christians, because they were conceived as mediators of prayer (see my remark on I. Clem, ad Corinth. LVI. 1); they might have found a place here just for this latter reason. On the significance of the Holy Spirit in the theology of Justin, see Zahn's Marcellus of Ancyra, p. 228: "If there be any one theologian of the early Church who might be regarded as depriving the Holy Spirit of all scientific _raison d'etre_ at least on the ground of having no distinctive activity, and the Father of all share in revelation, it is Justin." We cannot at bottom say that the Apologists possessed a doctrine of the Trinity.] [Footnote 430: To Justin the name of the Son is the most important; see also Athenag. 10. The Logos had indeed been already called the Son of God by Philo, and Celsus expressly says (Orig., c. Cels. II. 31); "If according to your doctrine the Word is really the Son of God then we agree with you;" but the Apologists are the first to attach the name of Son to the Logos as a proper designation. If, however, the Logos is intrinsically the Son of God, then Christ is the Son of God, not because he is the begotten of God in the flesh (early Christian), but because the spiritual being existing in him is the antemundane reproduction of God (see Justin, Apol. II. 6: [Greek: ho huios tou patros kai Theou, ho monos legomenos kuriôs huios])--a momentous expression.] [Footnote 431: Athenag., 10; Tatian, Orat. 5.] [Footnote 432: The clearest expression of this is in Tatian 5, which passage is also to be compared with the following: [Greek: Theos ên en archê, tên de archên logou dunamin pareilêphamen. Ho gar despotês tôn holôn, autos huparchôn tou pantos hê hupostasis, kata men tên mêdepô gegenêmenên poiêsin monos ên, katho de pasa dunamis, horatôn te kai aoratôn autos hupostasis ên, sun autô ta panta sun autô dia logikês dunameôs autos kai ho logos, hos ên auto, hupestêse. Thelêmati de tês aplotêtos autou propêda logos, ho de logos, ou kata kenou chôrêsas, ergon prôtotokon tou patros ginetai. Touton ismen tou kosmou tên archên. Gegone de kata merismon, ou kata apokopên to gar apotmêthen tou prôtou kechôristai, to de meriothen oikonomas tên hairesin proslabon ouk endea ton hothen eilêptai pepoiêken. Ôsper gar aro mias dados anaptetai men pura polla, tês de prôtês dados dia tên exapsin tôn pollôn dadôn ouk elattoutai to phôs, houtô kai ho logos proelthôn ek tês tou patros dunameôs ouk alogon pepoiêke ton gegennêkota]. In the identification of the divine consciousness, that is, the power of God, with the force to which the world is due the naturalistic basis of the apologetic speculations is most clearly shown. Cf. Justin, Dial. 128, 129.] [Footnote 433: The word "beget" ([Greek: gennan]) is used by the Apologists, especially Justin, because the name "Son" was the recognised expression for the Logos. No doubt the words [Greek: exereugesthai, proballesthai, proerchesthai, propêdan] and the like express the physical process more exactly in the sense of the Apologists. On the other hand, however, [Greek: gennan] appears the more appropriate word in so far as the relation of the essence of the Logos to the essence of God is most clearly shown by the name "Son."] [Footnote 434: None of the Apologists has precisely defined the Logos idea. Zahn, l.c., p. 233, correctly remarks: "Whilst the distinction drawn between the hitherto unspoken and the spoken word of the Creator makes Christ appear as the thought of the world within the mind of God, yet he is also to be something real which only requires to enter into a new relation to God to become an active force. Then again this Word is not to be the thought that God thinks, but the thought that thinks in God. And again it is to be a something, or an Ego, in God's thinking essence, which enters into reciprocal intercourse with something else in God; occasionally also the reason of God which is in a state of active exercise and without which he would not be rational." Considering this evident uncertainty it appears to me a very dubious proceeding to differentiate the conceptions of the Logos in Justin, Athenagoras, Tatian, and Theophilus, as is usually done. If we consider that no Apologist wrote a special treatise on the Logos, that Tatian (c. 5) is really the only one from whom we have any precise statements, and that the elements of the conception are the same in all, it appears inadvisable to lay so great stress on the difference as Zahn, for instance, has done in the book already referred to, p. 232 f. Hardly any real difference can have existed between Justin, Tatian, and Theophilus in the Logos doctrine proper. On the other hand Athenagoras certainly seems to have tried to eliminate the appearance of the Logos in time, and to emphasise the eternal nature of the divine relationships, without, however, reaching the position which Irenæus took up here.] [Footnote 435: This distinction is only found in Theophilus (II. 10); but the idea exists in Tatian and probably also in Justin, though it is uncertain whether Justin regarded the Logos as having any sort of being before the moment of his begetting.] [Footnote 436: Justin, Apol. II. 6., Dial. 61. The Logos is not produced out of nothing, like the rest of the creatures. Yet it is evident that the Apologists did not yet sharply and precisely distinguish between begetting and creating, as the later theologians did; though some of them certainly felt the necessity for a distinction.] [Footnote 437: All the Apologists tacitly assume that the Logos in virtue of his origin has the capacity of entering the finite. The distinction which here exists between Father and Son is very pregnantly expressed by Tertullian (adv. Marc. II. 27): "Igitur quæcumque exigitis deo digna, habebuntur in patre invisibili incongressibilique et placido et, ut ita dixerim, philosophorum deo. Quæcumque autem ut indigna reprehenditis deputabuntur in filio et viso et audito et congresso, arbitro patris et ministro." But we ought not to charge the Apologists with the theologoumenon that it was an inward necessity for the Logos to become man. Their Logos hovers, as it were, between God and the world, so that he appears as the highest creature, in so far as he is conceived as the production of God; and again seems to be merged in God, in so far as he is looked upon as the consciousness and spiritual force of God. To Justin, however, the incarnation is irrational, and the rest of the Greek Apologists are silent about it.] [Footnote 438: The most of the Apologists argue against the conception of the natural immortality of the human soul; see Tatian 13; Justin, Dial. 5; Theoph. II. 27.] [Footnote 439: The first chapter of Genesis represented to them the sum of all wisdom, and therefore of all Christianity. Perhaps Justin had already written a commentary to the Hexaëmeron (see my Texte und Untersuchungen I. 1, 2, p. 169 f.). It is certain that in the second century Rhodon (Euseb., H. E. V. 13. 8), Theophilus (see his 2nd Book ad Autol.), Candidus, and Apion (Euseb., H. E. V. 27) composed such. The Gnostics also occupied themselves a great deal with Gen. I.-III.; see, e.g., Marcus in Iren. I. 18.] [Footnote 440: See Theophilus ad Aut. II. 27: [Greek: Ei gar ho Theos athanaton ton anthrôpon ap' archês pepoiêkei, Theon auton pepoiêkei; palin ei thnêton auton pepoiêkei edokei an ho Theos aitios einai tou thanatou autou. Oute oun athanaton auton epoiêsen oute mên thnêton, alla dektikon amphoterôn, hina, ei rhepsê epi ta tês athanasias têrêsas tên entolên tou Theou, misthon komisêtai par' autou tên athanasian kai genêtai Theos, ei d' au trapê epi ta tou thanatou pragmata parakousas tou Theou, autos eautô aitios ê tou thanatou.]] [Footnote 441: See Justin, Apol. I. 14 ff. and the parallel passages in the other Apologists.] [Footnote 442: See Tatian, Orat. II. and many other passages.] [Footnote 443: Along with this the Apologists emphasise the resurrection of the flesh in the strongest way as the specific article of Christian anticipation, and prove the possibility of realising this irrational hope. Yet to the Apologists the ultimate ground of their trust in this early-Christian idea is their reliance on the unlimited omnipotence of God and this confidence is a proof of the vividness of their idea of him. Nevertheless this conception assumes that in the other world there will be a return of the flesh, which on this side the grave had to be overcome and regarded as non-existent. A clearly chiliastic element is found only in Justin.] [Footnote 444: No uniform conception of this is found in the Apologists; see Wendt, Die Christliche Lehre von der menschlichen Vollkommenheit 1882, pp. 8-20. Justin speaks only of a heavenly destination for which man is naturally adapted. With Tatian and Theophilus it is different.] [Footnote 445: The idea that the demon sovereignty has led to some change in the psychological condition and capacities of man is absolutely unknown to Justin (see Wendt, l.c., p. 11 f., who has successfully defended the correct view in Engelhardt's "Das Christenthum Justin's des Märtyrers" pp. 92 f. 151. f. 266 f., against Stählin, "Justin der Märtyrer und sein neuester Beurtheiler" 1880, p. 16 f.). Tatian expressed a different opinion, which, however, involved him in evident contradictions (see above, p. 191 ff.). The apologetic theology necessarily adhered to the two following propositions: (1) The freedom to do what is good is not lost and cannot be. This doctrine was opposed to philosophic determinism and popular fatalism. (2) The desires of the flesh resulting from the constitution of man only become evil when they destroy or endanger the sovereignty of reason. The formal _liberum arbitrium_ explains the possibility of sin, whilst its actual existence is accounted for by the desire that is excited by the demons. The Apologists acknowledge the universality of sin and death, but refused to admit the necessity of the former in order not to call its guilty character in question. On the other hand they are deeply imbued with the idea that the sovereignty of death is the most powerful factor in the perpetuation of sin. Their believing conviction of the omnipotence of God, as well as their moral conviction of the responsibility of man, protected them in theory from a strictly dualistic conception of the world. At the same time, like all who separate nature and morality in their ethical system, though in other respects they do not do so, the Apologists were obliged in practice to be dualists.] [Footnote 446: Death is accounted the worst evil. When Theophilus (II. 26) represents it as a blessing, we must consider that he is arguing against Marcion. Polytheism is traced to the demons; they are accounted the authors of the fables about the gods; the shameful actions of the latter are partly the deeds of demons and partly lies.] [Footnote 447: The Old Testament therefore is not primarily viewed as the book of prophecy or of preparation for Christ, but as the book of the full revelation which cannot be surpassed. In point of content the teaching of the prophets and of Christ is completely identical. The prophetical details in the Old Testament serve only to attest the _one_ truth. The Apologists confess that they were converted to Christianity by reading the Old Testament. Cf. Justin's and Tatian's confessions. Perhaps Commodian (Instruct. I. 1) is also be understood thus.] [Footnote 448: The _Oratio_ of Tatian is very instructive in this respect. In this book he has nowhere spoken _ex professo_ of the incarnation of the Logos in Christ; but in c. 13 fin. he calls the Holy Spirit "the servant of God who has suffered," and in c. 21 init. he says: "we are not fools and do not adduce anything stupid, when we proclaim that God has appeared in human form." Similar expressions are found in Minucius Felix. In no part of Aristides' Apology is there any mention of the pre-Christian appearance of the Logos. The writer merely speaks of the revelation of the Son of God in Jesus Christ.] [Footnote 449: We seldom receive an answer to the question as to why this or that particular occurrence should have been prophesied. According to the ideas of the Apologists, however, we have hardly a right to put that question; for, since the value of the historical consists in its having been predicted, its content is of no importance. The fact that Jesus finds the she-ass bound to a vine (Justin, Apol. I. 32) is virtually quite as important as his being born of a virgin. Both occurrences attest the prophetic teachings of God, freedom, etc.] [Footnote 450: In Justin's polemical works this must have appeared in a still more striking way. Thus we find in a fragment of the treatise [Greek: pros Markiôna], quoted by Irenæus (IV. 6. 2), the sentence "unigenitus filius venit ad nos, suum plasma in semetipsum recapitulans." So the theologoumenon of the _recapitulatio per Christum_ already appeared in Justin. (Vide also Dial. c. Tryph. 100.) If we compare Tertullian's _Apologeticum_ with his Antignostic writings we easily see how impossible it is to determine from that work the extent of his Christian faith and knowledge. The same is probably the case, though to a less extent, with Justin's apologetic writings.] [Footnote 451: Christians do not place a man alongside of God, for Christ is God, though indeed a second God. There is no question of two natures. It is not the divine nature that Justin has insufficiently emphasised--or at least this is only the case in so far as it is a second Godhead--but the human nature; see Schultz, Gottheit Christi, p. 39 ff.] [Footnote 452: We find allusions in Justin where the various incidents in the history of the incarnate Logos are conceived as a series of arrangements meant to form part of the history of salvation, to paralyse mankind's sinful history, and to regenerate humanity. He is thus a forerunner of Irenæus and Melito.] [Footnote 453: Even the theologoumenon of the definite number of the elect, which must be fulfilled, is found in Justin (Apol. I. 28, 45). For that reason the judgment is put off by God (II. 7). The Apology of Aristides contains a short account of the history of Jesus; his conception, birth, preaching, choice of the 12 Apostles, crucifixion, resurrection, ascension, sending out of the 12 Apostles are mentioned.] [Footnote 454: "To Justin faith is only an acknowledgment of the mission and Sonship of Christ and a conviction of the truth of his teaching. Faith does not justify, but is merely a presupposition of the justification which is effected through repentance, change of mind, and sinless life. Only in so far as faith itself is already a free decision to serve God has it the value of a saving act, which is indeed of such significance that one can say, 'Abraham was justified by faith.' In reality, however, this took place through [Greek: metanoia]." The idea of the new birth is exhausted in the thought: [Greek: Theos kalei eis metanoian], that of the forgiveness of sins in the idea: "God is so good that he overlooks sins committed in a state of ignorance, if man has changed his mind." Accordingly, Christ is the Redeemer in so far as he has brought about all the conditions which make for repentance.] [Footnote 455: This is in fact already the case in Justin here and there, but in the main there are as yet mere traces of it: the Apologists are no mystics.] [Footnote 456: If we consider how largely the demons bulked in the ideas of the Apologists, we must rate very highly their conviction of the redeeming power of Christ and of his name, a power continuously shown in the victories over the demons. See Justin Apol. II. 6, 8; Dial. II, 30, 35, 39, 76, 85, 111, 121; Tertull., Apol. 23, 27, 32, 37 etc. Tatian also (16 fin.) confirms it, and c. 12, p. 56, line 7 ff. (ed. Otto) does not contradict this.] [Footnote 457: Von Engelhardt, Christenthum Justin's, p. 432 f., has pronounced against its genuineness; see also my Texte und Untersuchungen I. 1, 2, p. 158. In favour of its genuineness see Hilgenfeld, Zeitschrift für wissenschaftliche Theologie, 1883, p. 26 f. The fragment is worded as follows: [Greek: Plasas ho Theos kat' archas ton anthrôpon tês gnômês autou ta tês phuseôs apêôrêsen entolê mia poiêsamenos tên diapeiran. Phulaxanta men gar tautên tês athantou lêxeôs pepoiêken esesthai, parabanta de tês enantias. Outô gegonôs ho anthrôpos kai pros tên parabasin euthus elthôn tên phthoran phusikôs eisedexato. Phusei de tês phthoras prosgenomenês anankaion ên hoti sôsai boulomenos ên tên phthoropoion ousian aphanisas. Touto de ouk ên heteros genesthai, ei mêper hê kata phusin zôê proseplakê tô tên phthoran dexamenô, aphanizousa men tên phthoran, athanaton de tou loipou to dexamenon diatêrousa. Dia touto ton logon edeêsen en sômati genesthai, hina (tou thanatou) tês kata phusin hêmas phthoras eleutherôsê. Ei gar, hôs phate, neumati monon ton thanaton hêmôn apekôlusen, ou prosêi men dia tên boulêsin ho thanatos, ouden de êtton phthartoi palin êmen phuikên en heautois tên phthoran peripherontes].] [Footnote 458: Weizsäcker, Jahrbücher fur deutsche Theologie, 1867, p. 119, has with good reason strongly emphasised this element. See also Stählin, Justin der Martyrer, 1880, p. 63 f., whose criticism of Von Engelhardt's book contains much that is worthy of note, though it appears to me inappropriate in the main.] [Footnote 459: Loofs continues: "The Apologists, viewing the transference of the concept 'Son' to the preëxistent Christ as a matter of course, enabled the Christological problem of the 4th century to be started. They removed the point of departure of the Christological speculation from the historical Christ back into the preëxistence and depreciated the importance of Jesus' life as compared with the incarnation. They connected the Christology with the cosmology, but were not able to combine it with the scheme of salvation. Their Logos doctrine is not a 'higher' Christology than the prevailing form; it rather lags behind the genuine Christian estimate of Christ. It is not God who reveals himself in Christ, but the Logos, the depotentiated God, who _as God_ is subordinate to the supreme Deity."] CHAPTER V. THE BEGINNINGS OF AN ECCLESIASTICO-THEOLOGICAL INTERPRETATION AND REVISION OF THE RULE OF FAITH IN OPPOSITION TO GNOSTICISM ON THE BASIS OF THE NEW TESTAMENT AND THE CHRISTIAN PHILOSOPHY OF THE APOLOGISTS: MELITO, IRENÆUS, TERTULLIAN, HIPPOLYTUS, NOVATIAN.[460] 1. _The theological position of Irenæus and the later contemporary Church teachers_. Gnosticism and the Marcionite Church had compelled orthodox Christianity to make a selection from tradition and to make this binding on Christians as an apostolical law. Everything that laid claim to validity had henceforth to be legitimised by the faith, i.e., the baptismal confession and the New Testament canon of Scripture (see above, chap. 2, under A and B). However, mere "prescriptions" could no longer suffice here. But the baptismal confession was no "doctrine;" if it was to be transformed into such it required an interpretation. We have shown above that the _interpreted_ baptismal confession was instituted as the guide for the faith. This interpretation took its _matter_ from the sacred books of _both_ Testaments. It owed its guiding lines, however, on the one hand to philosophical theology, as set forth by the Apologists, and on the other to the earnest endeavour to maintain and defend against all attacks the traditional convictions and hopes of believers, as professed in the past generation by the enthusiastic forefathers of the Church. In addition to this, certain interests, which had found expression in the speculations of the so-called Gnostics, were adopted in an increasing degree among all thinking Christians, and also could not but influence the ecclesiastical teachers.[461] The theological labours, thus initiated, accordingly bear the impress of great uniqueness and complexity. In the first place, the old Catholic Fathers, Melito,[462] Rhodon,[463] Irenæus, Hippolytus, and Tertullian were in every case convinced that all their expositions contained the universal Church faith itself and nothing else. Though the faith is identical with the baptismal confession, yet every interpretation of it derived from the New Testament is no less certain than the shortest formula.[464] The creation of the New Testament furnished all at once a quite unlimited multitude of conceptions, the whole of which appeared as "doctrines" and offered themselves for incorporation with the "faith."[465] The limits of the latter therefore seem to be indefinitely extended, whilst on the other hand tradition, and polemics too in many cases, demanded an adherence to the shortest formula. The oscillation between this brief formula, the contents of which, as a rule, did not suffice, and that fulness, which admitted of no bounds at all, is characteristic of the old Catholic Fathers we have mentioned. In the second place, these fathers felt quite as much need of a rational proof in their arguments with their christian opponents, as they did while contending with the heathen;[466] and, being themselves children of their time, they required this proof for their own assurance and that of their fellow-believers. The epoch in which men appealed to charisms, and "knowledge" counted as much as prophecy and vision, because it was still of them same nature, was in the main a thing of the past.[467] Tradition and reason had taken the place of charisms as courts of appeal. But this change had neither come to be clearly recognized,[468] nor was the right and scope of rational theology alongside of tradition felt to be a problem. We can indeed trace the consciousness of the danger in attempting to introduce new _termini_ and regulations not prescribed by the Holy Scriptures.[469] The bishops themselves in fact encouraged this apprehension in order to warn people against the Gnostics,[470] and after the deluge of heresy, representatives of Church orthodoxy looked with distrust on every philosophic-theological formula.[471] Such propositions of rationalistic theology as were absolutely required, were, however, placed by Irenæus and Tertullian on the same level as the hallowed doctrines of tradition, and were not viewed by them as something of a different nature. Irenæus uttered most urgent warnings against subtle speculations;[472] but yet, in the naivest way, associated with the faithfully preserved traditional doctrines and fancies of the faith theories which he likewise regarded as tradition and which, in point of form, did not differ from those of the Apologists or Gnostics.[473] The Holy Scriptures of the New Testament were the basis on which Irenæus set forth the most important doctrines of Christianity. Some of these he stated as they had been conceived by the oldest tradition (see the eschatology), others he adapted to the new necessities. The qualitative distinction between the _fides credenda_ and theology was noticed neither by Irenæus nor by Hippolytus and Tertullian. According to Irenæus I. 10. 3 this distinction is merely quantitative. Here faith and theological knowledge are still completely intermixed. Whilst stating and establishing the doctrines of tradition with the help of the New Testament, and revising and fixing them by means of intelligent deduction, the Fathers think they are setting forth the faith itself and nothing else. Anything more than this is only curiosity not unattended with danger to Christians. Theology is interpreted faith.[474] Corresponding to the baptismal confession there thus arose at the first a loose system of dogmas which were necessarily devoid of strict style, definite principle, or fixed and harmonious aim. In this form we find them with special plainness in Tertullian.[475] This writer was still completely incapable of inwardly connecting his rational (Stoic) theology, as developed by him for apologetic purposes, with the Christological doctrines of the _regula fidei_, which, after the example of Irenæus, he constructed and defended from Scripture and tradition in opposition to heresy. Whenever he attempts in any place to prove the _intrinsic_ necessity of these dogmas, he seldom gets beyond rhetorical statements, holy paradoxes, or juristic forms. As a systematic thinker, a cosmologist, moralist, and jurist rather than a theosophist, as a churchman, a masterly defender of tradition, as a Christian exclusively guided in practical life by the strict precepts and hopes of the Gospel, his theology, if by that we understand his collective theological disquisitions, is completely devoid of unity, and can only be termed a mixture of dissimilar and, not unfrequently, contradictory propositions, which admit of no comparison with the older theology of Valentinus or the later system of Origen.[476] To Tertullian everything lies side by side; problems which chance to turn up are just as quickly solved. The specific faith of Christians is indeed no longer, as it sometimes seems to be in Justin's case, a great apparatus of proof for the doctrines of the only true philosophy; it rather stands, in its own independent value, side by side with these, partly in a crude, partly in a developed form; but inner principles and aims are nearly everywhere sought for in vain.[477] In spite of this he possesses inestimable importance in the history of dogma; for he developed and created, in a disconnected form and partly in the shape of legal propositions, a series of the most important dogmatic formulæ, which Cyprian, Novatian, Hosius, and the Roman bishops of the fourth century, Ambrosius and Leo I., introduced into the general dogmatic system of the Catholic Church. He founded the terminology both of the trinitarian and of the Christological dogma; and in addition to this was the first to give currency to a series of dogmatic concepts (_satisfacere_, _meritum_, _sacramentum_, _vitium originis_ etc., etc._). Finally it was he who at the very outset imparted to the type of dogmatic that arose in the West its momentous bias in the direction of _auctoritas et ratio_, and its corresponding tendency to assume a legal character (_lex_, formal and material), peculiarities which were to become more and more clearly marked as time went on.[478] But, great as is his importance in this respect, it has no connection at all with the fundamental conception of Christianity peculiar to himself, for, as a matter of fact, this was already out of date at the time when he lived. What influenced the history of dogma was not his Christianity, but his masterly power of framing formulæ. It is different with Irenæus. The Christianity of this man proved a decisive factor in the history of dogma in respect of its content. If Tertullian supplied the future Catholic dogmatic with the most important part of its formulæ, Irenæus clearly sketched for it its fundamental idea, by combining the ancient notion of salvation with New Testament (Pauline) thoughts.[479] Accordingly, as far as the essence of the matter is concerned, the great work of Irenæus is far superior to the theological writings of Tertullian. This appears already in the task, voluntarily undertaken by Irenæus, of giving a relatively complete exposition of the doctrines of ecclesiastical Christianity on the basis of the New Testament, in opposition to heresy. Tertullian nowhere betrayed a similar systematic necessity, which indeed, in the case of the Gallic bishop too, only made its appearance as the result of polemical motives. But Irenæus to a certain degree succeeded in amalgamating philosophic theology and the statements of ecclesiastical tradition viewed as doctrines. This result followed (1) because he never lost sight of a fundamental idea to which he tried to refer everything, and (2) because he was directed by a confident view of Christianity as a religion, that is, a theory of its purpose. The first fundamental idea, in its all-dominating importance, was suggested to Irenæus by his opposition to Gnosticism. It is the conviction that the Creator of the world and the supreme God are one and the same.[480] The other theory as to the aim of Christianity, however, is shared by Irenæus with Paul, Valentinus, and Marcion. It is the conviction that Christianity is real redemption, and that this redemption was only effected by the appearance of Christ. The working out of these two ideas is the most important feature in Irenæus' book. As yet, indeed, he by no means really succeeded in completely adapting to these two fundamental thoughts all the materials to be taken from Holy Scripture and found in the rule of faith; he only thought with systematic clearness within the scheme of the Apologists. His archaic eschatological disquisitions are of a heterogeneous nature, and a great deal of his material, as, for instance, Pauline formulæ and thoughts, he completely emptied of its content, inasmuch as he merely contrived to turn it into a testimony of the oneness and absolute causality of God the Creator; but the repetition of the same main thoughts to an extent that is wearisome to us, and the attempt to refer everything to these, unmistakably constitute the success of his work.[481] God the Creator and the one Jesus Christ are really the middle points of his theological system, and in this way he tried to assign an intrinsic significance to the several historical statements of the baptismal confession. Looked at from this point of view, his speculations were almost of an identical nature with the Gnostic.[482] But, while he conceives Christianity as an explanation of the world and as redemption, his Christocentric teaching was opposed to that of the Gnostics. Since the latter started with the conception of an original dualism they saw in the empiric world a faulty combination of opposing elements,[483] and therefore recognised in the redemption by Christ the separation of what was unnaturally united. Irenæus, on the contrary, who began with the idea of the absolute causality of God the Creator, saw in the empiric world faulty estrangements and separations, and therefore viewed the redemption by Christ as the reunion of things unnaturally separated--the "recapitulatio" ([Greek: anakephalaiôsis]).[484] This speculative thought, which involved the highest imaginable optimism in contrast to Gnostic pessimism, brought Irenæus into touch with certain Pauline trains of thought,[485] and enabled him to adhere to the theology of the Apologists. At the same time it opened up a view of the person of Christ, which supplemented the great defect of that theology,[486] surpassed the Christology of the Gnostics,[487] and made it possible to utilise the Christological statements contained in certain books of the New Testament.[488] So far as we know at least, Irenæus is the first ecclesiastical theologian after the time of the Apologists (see Ignatius before that) who assigned a quite specific significance to the person of Christ and in fact regarded it as the vital factor.[489] That was possible for him because of his realistic view of redemption. Here, however, he did not fall into the abyss of Gnosticism, because, as a disciple of the "elders", he adhered to the early-Christian eschatology, and because, as a follower of the Apologists, he held, along with the realistic conception of salvation, the other dissimilar theory that Christ, as the teacher, imparts to men, who are free and naturally constituted for fellowship with God, the knowledge which enables them to imitate God, and thus by their own act to attain communion with him. Nevertheless to Irenæus the pith of the matter is already found in the idea that Christianity is real redemption, i.e., that the highest blessing bestowed in Christianity is the deification of human nature through the gift of immortality, and that this deification includes the full knowledge and enjoying of God (visio dei). This conception suggested to him the question as to the cause of the incarnation as well as the answer to the same. The question "cur deus--homo", which was by no means clearly formulated in the apologetic writings, in so far as in these "homo" only meant _appearance_ among men, and the "why" was answered by referring to prophecy and the necessity of divine teaching, was by Irenæus made the central point. The reasons why the answer he gave was so highly satisfactory may be stated as follows: (1) It proved that the Christian blessing of salvation was of a specific kind. (2) It was similar in point of form to the so-called Gnostic conception of Christianity, and even surpassed it as regards the promised extent of the sphere included in the deification. (3) It harmonised with the eschatological tendency of Christendom, and at the same time was fitted to replace the material eschatological expectations that were fading away. (4) It was in keeping with the mystic and Neoplatonic current of the time, and afforded it the highest imaginable satisfaction. (5) For the vanishing trust in the possibility of attaining the highest knowledge by the aid of reason it substituted the sure hope of a supernatural transformation of human nature which would even enable it to appropriate that which is above reason. (6) Lastly, it provided the traditional historical utterances respecting Christ, as well as the whole preceding course of history, with a firm foundation and a definite aim, and made it possible to conceive a history of salvation unfolding itself by degrees [Greek: oikonomia Theou]. According to this conception the central point of history was no longer the Logos as such, but Christ as the _incarnate God_, while at the same time the moralistic interest was balanced by a really religious one. An approach was thus made to the Pauline theology, though indeed in a very peculiar way and to some extent only in appearance. A more exact representation of salvation through Christ has, however, been given by Irenæus as follows: Incorruptibility is a _habitus_ which is the opposite of our present one and indeed of man's natural condition. For immortality is at once God's manner of existence and his attribute; as a created being man is only "capable of incorruption and immortality" ("_capax incorruptionis et immortalitatis_");[490] thanks to the divine goodness, however, he is intended for the same, and yet is empirically "subjected to the power of death" ("sub condicione mortis"). Now the sole way in which immortality as a physical condition can be obtained is by its possessor uniting himself _realiter_ with human nature, in order to deify it "by adoption" ("_per adoptionem_"), such is the technical term of Irenæus. The deity must become what we are in order that we may become what he is. Accordingly, if Christ is to be the Redeemer, he must himself be God, and all the stress must fall upon his birth as man. "By his birth as man the eternal Word of God guarantees the inheritance of life to those who in their natural birth have inherited death."[491] But this work of Christ can be conceived as _recapitulatio_ because God the Redeemer is identical with God the Creator; and Christ consequently brings about a final condition which existed from the beginning in God's plan, but could not be immediately realised in consequence of the entrance of sin. It is perhaps Irenæus' highest merit, from a historical and ecclesiastical point of view, to have worked out this thought in pregnant fashion and with the simplest means, i.e., without the apparatus of the Gnostics, but rather by the aid of simple and essentially Biblical ideas. Moreover, a few decades later, he and Melito, an author unfortunately so little known to us, were already credited with this merit. For the author of the so-called "Little Labyrinth" (Euseb., H. E. V. 28. 5) can indeed boast with regard to the works of Justin, Miltiades, Tatian, Clement, etc., that they declared Christ to be God, but then continues: [Greek: Ta Eirênaiou te kai Melitônos kai tôn loipôn tis agnoei biblia, theon kai anthrôpon katangellonta ton Christon] ("Who is ignorant of the books of Irenæus, Melito, and the rest, which proclaim Christ to be God and man"). The progress in theological views is very precisely and appropriately expressed in these words. The Apologists also professed their belief in the full revelation of God upon earth, that is, in revelation as the teaching which necessarily leads to immortality;[492] but Irenæus is the first to whom Jesus Christ, God and man, is the centre of history and faith.[493] Following the method of Valentinus, he succeeded in sketching a history of salvation, the gradual realising of the [Greek: oikonomia Theou] culminating in the deification of believing humanity, but here he always managed to keep his language essentially within the limits of the Biblical. The various acting æons of the Gnostics became to him different stages in the saving work of the one Creator and his Logos. His system seemed to have absorbed the rationalism of the Apologists and the intelligible simplicity of their moral theology, just as much as it did the Gnostic dualism with its particoloured mythology. Revelation had become history, the history of salvation; and dogmatics had in a certain fashion become a way of looking at history, the knowledge of God's ways of salvation that lead historically to an appointed goal.[494] But, as this realistic, quasi-historical view of the subject was by no means completely worked out by Irenæus himself, since the theory of human freedom did not admit of its logical development, and since the New Testament also pointed in other directions, it did not yet become the predominating one even in the third century, nor was it consistently carried out by any one teacher. The two conceptions opposed to it, that of the early Christian eschatology and the rationalistic one, were still in vogue. The two latter were closely connected in the third century, especially in the West, whilst the mystic and realistic view was almost completely lacking there. In this respect Tertullian adopted but little from Irenæus. Hippolytus also lagged behind him. Teachers like Commodian, Arnobius, and Lactantius, however, wrote as if there had been no Gnostic movement at all, and as if no Antignostic Church theology existed. The immediate result of the work carried on by Irenæus and the Antignostic teachers in the Church consisted in the fixing of tradition and in the intelligent treatment of individual doctrines, which gradually became established. The most important will be set forth in what follows. On the most vital point, the introduction of the philosophical Christology into the Church's rule of faith, see Chapter 7. The manner in which Irenæus undertook his great task of expounding and defending orthodox Christianity in opposition to the Gnostic form was already a prediction of the future. The oldest Christian motives and hopes; the letter of both Testaments, including even Pauline thoughts; moralistic and philosophical elements, the result of the Apologists' labours; and realistic and mystical features balance each other in his treatment. He glides over from the one to the other; limits the one by the other; plays off Scripture against reason, tradition against the obscurity of the Scriptures; and combats fantastic speculation by an appeal sometimes to reason, sometimes to the limits of human knowledge. Behind all this and dominating everything, we find his firm belief in the bestowal of divine incorruptibility on believers through the work of the God-man. This eclectic method did not arise from shrewd calculation. It was equally the result of a rare capacity for appropriating the feelings and ideas of others, combined with the conservative instincts that guided the great teacher, and the consequence of a happy blindness to the gulf which lay between the Christian tradition and the world of ideas prevailing at that time. Still unconscious of the greatest problem, Irenæus with inward sincerity sketched out that future dogmatic method according to which the theology compiled by an eclectic process is to be nothing else than the simple faith itself, this being merely illustrated and explained, developed and by that very process established, as far as "stands in the Holy Scripture," and--let us add--as far as reason requires. But Irenæus was already obliged to decline answering the question as to how far unexplained faith can be sufficient for most Christians, though nothing but this explanation can solve the great problems, "why more covenants than one were given to mankind, what was the character of each covenant, why God shut up every man unto unbelief, why the Word became flesh and suffered, why the advent of the Son of God only took place in the last times etc." (I. 10. 3). The relation of faith and theological Gnosis was fixed by Irenæus to the effect that the latter is simply a continuation of the former.[495] At the same time, however, he did not clearly show how the collection of historical statements found in the confession can of itself guarantee a sufficient and tenable knowledge of Christianity. Here the speculative theories are as a matter of fact quite imbedded in the historical propositions of tradition. Will these obscurities remain when once the Church is forced to compete in its theological system with the whole philosophical science of the Greeks, or may it be expected that, instead of this system of eclecticism and compromise, a method will find acceptance which, distinguishing between faith and theology, will interpret in a new and speculative sense the whole complex of tradition? Irenæus' process has at least this one advantage over the other method: according to it everything can be reckoned part of the faith, providing it bears the stamp of truth, without the faith seeming to alter its nature. It is incorporated in the theology of facts which the faith here appears to be.[496] The latter, however, imperceptibly becomes a revealed system of doctrine and history; and though Irenæus himself always seeks to refer everything again to the "simple faith" ([Greek: philê pistis]), and to believing simplicity, that is, to the belief in the Creator and the Son of God who became man, yet it was not in his power to stop the development destined to transform the faith into knowledge of a theological system. The pronounced hellenising of the Gospel, brought about by the Gnostic systems, was averted by Irenæus and the later ecclesiastical teachers by preserving a great portion of the early Christian tradition, partly as regards its letter, partly as regards its spirit, and thus rescuing it for the future. But the price of this preservation was the adoption of a series of "Gnostic" formulæ. Churchmen, though with hesitation, adopted the adversary's way of looking at things, and necessarily did so, because as they became ever further and further removed from the early-Christian feelings and thoughts, they had always more and more lost every other point of view. The old Catholic Fathers permanently settled a great part of early tradition for Christendom, but at the same time promoted the gradual hellenising of Christianity. 2. _The Doctrines of the Church._ In the following section we do not intend to give a presentation of the theology of Irenæus and the other Antignostic Church teachers, but merely to set forth those points of doctrine to which the teachings of these men gave currency in succeeding times. Against the Gnostic theses[497] Irenæus and his successors, apart from the proof from prescription, adduced the following intrinsic considerations: (1) In the case of the Gnostics and Marcion the Deity lacks absoluteness, because he does not embrace everything, that is, he is bounded by the _kenoma_ or by the sphere of a second God; and also because his omnipresence, omniscience, and omnipotence have a corresponding limitation.[498] (2) The assumption of divine emanations and of a differentiated divine _pleroma_ represents the Deity as a composite, i.e.,[499] finite being; and, moreover, the personification of the divine qualities is a mythological freak, the folly of which is evident as soon as one also makes the attempt to personify the affections and qualities of man in a similar way.[500] (3) The attempt to make out conditions existing within the Godhead is in itself absurd and audacious.[501] (4) The theory of the passion and ignorance of Sophia introduces sin into the pleroma itself, i.e., into the Godhead.[502] With this the weightiest argument against the Gnostic cosmogony is already mentioned. A further argument against the system is that the world and mankind would have been incapable of improvement, if they had owed their origin to ignorance and sin.[503] Irenæus and Tertullian employ lengthy arguments to show that a God who has created nothing is inconceivable, and that a Demiurge occupying a position alongside of or below the Supreme Being is self-contradictory, inasmuch as he sometimes appears higher than this Supreme Being, and sometimes so weak and limited that one can no longer look on him as a God.[504] The Fathers everywhere argue on behalf of the Gnostic Demiurge and against the Gnostic supreme God. It never occurs to them to proceed in the opposite way and prove that the supreme God may be the Creator. All their efforts are rather directed to show that the Creator of the world is the only and supreme God, and that there can be no other above this one. This attitude of the Fathers is characteristic; for it proves that the apologetico-philosophical theology was their fundamental assumption. The Gnostic (Marcionite) supreme God is the God of religion, the God of redemption; the Demiurge is the being required to explain the world. The intervention of the Fathers on his behalf, that is, their assuming him as the basis of their arguments, reveals what was fundamental and what was accidental in their religious teaching. At the same time, however, it shows plainly that they did not understand or did not feel the fundamental problem that troubled and perplexed the Gnostics and Marcion, viz., the qualitative distinction between the spheres of creation and redemption. They think they have sufficiently explained this distinction by the doctrine of human freedom and its consequences. Accordingly their whole mode of argument against the Gnostics and Marcion is, in point of content, of an abstract, philosophico-rational kind.[505] As a rule they do not here carry on their controversy with the aid of reasons taken from the deeper views of religion. As soon as the rational argument fails, however, there is really an entire end to the refutation from inner grounds, at least in the case of Tertullian; and the contest is shifted into the sphere of the rule of faith and the Holy Scriptures. Hence, for example, they have not succeeded in making much impression on the heretical Christology from dogmatic considerations, though in this respect Irenæus was still very much more successful than Tertullian.[506] Besides, in adv. Marc. II. 27, the latter betrayed what interest he took in the preëxistent Christ as distinguished from God the Father. It is not expedient to separate the arguments advanced by the Fathers against the Gnostics from their own positive teachings, for these are throughout dependent on their peculiar attitude within the sphere of Scripture and tradition. Irenæus and Hippolytus have been rightly named Scripture theologians; but it is a strange infatuation to think that this designation characterises them as evangelical. If indeed we here understand "evangelical" in the vulgar sense, the term may be correct, only in this case it means exactly the same as "Catholic." But if "evangelical" signifies "early-Christian," then it must be said that Scripture theology was not the primary means of preserving the ideas of primitive Christianity; for, as the New Testament Scriptures were also regarded as _inspired_ documents and were to be interpreted according to the _regula_, their content was just for that reason apt to be obscured. Both Marcion and the chiefs of the Valentinian school had also been Scripture theologians. Irenæus and Hippolytus merely followed them. Now it is true that they very decidedly argued against the arbitrary method of interpreting the Scriptures adopted by Valentinus, and compared it to the process of forming the mosaic picture of a king into the mosaic picture of a fox, and the poems of Homer into any others one might choose;[507] but they just as decidedly protested against the rejection by Apelles and Marcion of the allegorical method of interpretation,[508] and therefore were not able to set up a canon really capable of distinguishing their own interpretation from that of the Gnostics.[509] The Scripture theology of the old Catholic Fathers has a twofold aspect. The religion of the Scripture is no longer the original form; it is the mediated, scientific one to be constructed by a learned process; it is, on its part, the strongest symptom of the secularisation that has begun. In a word, it is the religion of the school, first the Gnostic then the ecclesiastical. But it may, on the other hand, be a wholesome reaction against enthusiastic excess and moralistic frigidity; and the correct sense of the letter will from the first obtain imperceptible recognition in opposition to the "spirit" arbitrarily read into it, and at length banish this "spirit" completely. Irenæus certainly tried to mark off the Church use of the Scriptures as distinguished from the Gnostic practice. He rejects the accommodation theory of which some Gnostics availed themselves;[510] he emphasises more strongly than these the absolute sufficiency of the Scriptures by repudiating all esoteric doctrines;[511] he rejects all distinction between different kinds of inspiration in the sacred books;[512] he lays down the maxim that the obscure passages are to be interpreted from the clear ones, not vice versa;[513] but this principle being in itself ambiguous, it is rendered quite unequivocal by the injunction to interpret everything according to the rule of faith[514] and, in the case of all objectionable passages, to seek the type.[515] Not only did Irenæus explain the Old Testament allegorically, in accordance with traditional usage;[516] but according to the principle: "with God there is nothing without purpose or due signification" ("nihil vacuum neque sine signo apud deum") (IV. 21. 3), he was also the first to apply the scientific and mystical explanation to the New Testament, and was consequently obliged to adopt the Gnostic exegesis, which was imperative as soon as the apostolic writings were viewed as a New Testament. He regards the fact of Jesus handing round food to those _lying_ at table as signifying that Christ also bestows life on the long dead generations;[517] and, in the parable of the Samaritan, he interprets the host as the Spirit and the two denarii as the Father and Son.[518] To Irenæus and also to Tertullian and Hippolytus all numbers, incidental circumstances, etc., in the Holy Scriptures are virtually as significant as they are to the Gnostics, and hence the only question is what hidden meaning we are to give to them. "Gnosticism" is therefore here adopted by the ecclesiastical teachers in its full extent, proving that this "Gnosticism" is nothing else than the learned construction of religion with the scientific means of those days. As soon as Churchmen were forced to bring forward their proofs and proceed to put the same questions as the "Gnostics," they were obliged to work by their method. Allegory, however, was required in order to establish the continuity of the tradition from Adam down to the present time--not merely down to Christ--against the attacks of the Gnostics and Marcion. By establishing this continuity a historical truth was really also preserved. For the rest, the disquisitions of Irenæus, Tertullian, and Hippolytus were to such an extent borrowed from their opponents that there is scarcely a problem that they propounded and discussed as the result of their own thirst for knowledge. This fact not only preserved to their works an early-Christian character as compared with those of the Alexandrians, but also explains why they frequently stop in their positive teachings, when they believe they have confuted their adversaries. Thus we find neither in Irenæus nor Tertullian a discussion of the relation of the Scriptures to the rule of faith. From the way in which they appeal to both we can deduce a series of important problems, which, however, the Fathers themselves did not formulate and consequently did not answer.[519] _The doctrine of God_ was fixed by the old Catholic Fathers for the Christendom of succeeding centuries, and in fact both the methodic directions for forming the idea of God and their results remained unchanged. With respect to the former they occupy a middle position between the renunciation of all knowledge--for God is not abyss and silence--and the attempt to fathom the depths of the Godhead.[520] Tertullian, influenced by the Stoics, strongly emphasised the possibility of attaining a knowledge of God. Irenæus, following out an idea which seems to anticipate the mysticism of later theologians, made love a preliminary condition of knowledge and plainly acknowledged it as the principle of knowledge.[521] God can be known from revelation,[522] because he has really revealed himself, that is, both by the creation and the word of revelation. Irenæus also taught that a sufficient knowledge of God, as the creator and guide, can be obtained from the creation, and indeed this knowledge always continues, so that all men are without excuse.[523] In this case the prophets, the Lord himself, the Apostles, and the Church teach no more and nothing else than what must be already plain to the natural consciousness. Irenæus certainly did not succeed in reconciling this proposition with his former assertion that the knowledge of God springs from love resting on revelation. Irenæus also starts, as Apologist and Antignostic, with the God who is the First Cause. Every God who is not that is a phantom;[524] and every sublime religious state of mind which does not include the feeling of dependence upon God as the Creator is a deception. It is the extremest blasphemy to degrade God the Creator, and it is the most frightful machination of the devil that has produced the _blasphemia creatoris_.[525] Like the Apologists, the early Catholic Fathers confess that the doctrine of God the Creator is the first and most important of the main articles of Christian faith;[526] the belief in his oneness as well as his absoluteness is the main point.[527] God is all light, all understanding, all Logos, all active spirit;[528] everything anthropopathic and anthropomorphic is to be conceived as incompatible with his nature.[529] The early-Catholic doctrine of God shows an advance beyond that of the Apologists, in so far as God's attributes of goodness and righteousness are expressly discussed, and it is proved in opposition to Marcion that they are not mutually exclusive, but necessarily involve each other.[530] In the case of the _Logos doctrine_ also, Tertullian and Hippolytus simply adopted and developed that of the Apologists, whilst Irenæus struck out a path of his own. In the _Apologeticum_ (c. 21) Tertullian set forth the Logos doctrine as laid down by Tatian, the only noteworthy difference between him and his predecessor consisting in the fact that the appearance of the Logos in Jesus Christ was the uniform aim of his presentation.[531] He fully explained his Logos doctrine in his work against the Monarchian Praxeas.[532] Here he created the formulæ of succeeding orthodoxy by introducing the ideas "substance" and "person" and by framing, despite of the most pronounced subordinationism and a purely economical conception of the Trinity, definitions of the relations between the persons which could be fully adopted in the Nicene creed.[533] Here also the philosophical and cosmological interest prevails; the history of salvation appears only to be the continuation of that of the cosmos. This system is distinguished from Gnosticism by the history of redemption appearing as the natural continuation of the history of creation and not simply as its correction. The thought that the unity of the Godhead is shown in the _una substantia_ and the _una dominatio_ was worked out by Tertullian with admirable clearness. According to him the unfolding of this one substance into several heavenly embodiments, or the administration of the divine sovereignty by emanated _persons_ cannot endanger the unity; the "arrangement of the unity when the unity evolves the trinity from itself" ("dispositio unitatis, quando unitas ex semetipsa [trinitatem] derivat") does not abolish the unity, and, moreover, the Son will some day subject himself to the Father, so that God will be all in all.[534] Here then the Gnostic doctrine of æons is adopted in its complete form, and in fact Hippolytus, who in this respect agrees with Tertullian, has certified that the Valentinians "acknowledge that the one is the originator of all" ("[Greek: ton hena homologousin aition tôn pantôn]"), because with them also, "the whole goes back to one" ("[Greek: to pan eis hena anatrechei]").[535] The only difference is that Tertullian and Hippolytus limit the "economy of God" ([Greek: oikonomia tou Theou]) to Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, while the Gnostics exceed this number.[536] According to Tertullian "a rational conception of the Trinity constitutes truth, an irrational idea of the unity makes heresy" ("trinitas rationaliter expensa veritatem constituit, unitas irrationaliter collecta hæresim facit") is already the watchword of the Christian dogmatic. Now what he considers a rational conception is keeping in view the different stages of God's economy, and distinguishing between _dispositio_, _distinctio_, _numerus_ on the one hand and _divisio_ on the other. At the beginning God was alone, but _ratio_ and _sermo_ existed within him. In a certain sense then, he was never alone, for he thought and spoke inwardly. If even men can carry on conversations with themselves and make themselves objects of reflection, how much more is this possible with God.[537] But as yet he was the only _person_.[538] The moment, however, that he chose to reveal himself and sent forth from himself the word of creation, the Logos came into existence as a real being, before the world and for the sake of the world. For "that which proceeds from such a great substance and has created such substances cannot itself be devoid of substance." He is therefore to be conceived as permanently separate from God "secundus a deo consititutus, perseverans in sua forma"; but as unity of substance is to be preserved ("_alius pater, alius filius, alius non aliud_"--"_ego et pater unum sumus ad substantiæ unitatem, non ad numeri singularitatem dictum est_"--"_tres unum sunt, non unus_"--"the Father is one person and the Son is another, different persons not different things", "_I and the Father are one_ refers to unity of substance, not to singleness in number"--"the three are one thing not one person"), the Logos must be related to the Father as the ray to the sun, as the stream to the source, as the stem to the root (see also Hippolytus, c. Noëtum 10).[539] For that very reason "Son" is the most suitable expression for the Logos that has emanated in this way ([Greek: kata merismon]). Moreover, since he (as well as the Spirit) has the same substance as the Father ("unius substantia" = [Greek: homoousios]) he has also the same _power_[540] as regards the world. He has all might in heaven and earth, and he has had it _ab initio_, from the very beginning of time.[541] On the other hand this same Son is only a part and offshoot; the Father is the whole; and in this the mystery of the economy consists. What the Son possesses has been given him by the Father; the Father is therefore greater than the Son; the Son is subordinate to the Father.[542] "Pater tota substantia est, filius vero derivatio totius et portio".[543] This paradox is ultimately based on a philosophical axiom of Tertullian: the whole fulness of the Godhead, i.e., the Father, is incapable of entering into the finite, whence also he must always remain invisible, unapproachable, and incomprehensible. The Divine Being that appears and works on earth can never be anything but a part of the transcendent Deity. This Being must be a derived existence, which has already in some fashion a finite element in itself, because it is the hypostatised Word of creation, which has an origin.[544] We would assert too much, were we to say that Tertullian meant that the Son was simply the world-thought itself; his insistance on the "unius substantiæ" disproves this. But no doubt he regards the Son as the Deity depotentiated for the sake of self-communication; the Deity adapted to the world, whose sphere coincides with the world-thought, and whose power is identical with that necessary for the world. From the standpoint of humanity this Deity is God himself, i.e., a God whom men can apprehend and who can apprehend them; but from God's standpoint, which speculation can fix but not fathom, this Deity is a subordinate, nay, even a temporary one. Tertullian and Hippolytus know as little of an immanent Trinity as the Apologists; the Trinity only _appears_ such, because the unity of the substance is very vigorously emphasised; but in truth the Trinitarian process as in the case of the Gnostics, is simply the background of the process that produces the history of the world and of salvation. This is first of all shown by the fact that in course of the process of the world and of salvation the Son grows in his sonship, that is, goes through a finite process;[545] and secondly by the fact that the Son himself will one day restore the monarchy to the Father.[546] These words no doubt are again spoken not from the standpoint of man, but from that of God; for so long as history lasts "the Son continues in his form." In its point of departure, its plan, and its details this whole exposition is not distinguished from the teachings of contemporaneous and subsequent Greek philosophers,[547] but merely differs in its aim. In itself absolutely unfitted to preserve the primitive Christian belief in God the Father and the Lord Jesus Christ, its importance consists in its identification of the historical Jesus with this Logos. By its aid Tertullian united the scientific, idealistic cosmology with the utterances of early Christian tradition about Jesus in such a way as to make the two, as it were, appear the totally dissimilar wings of one and the same building,[548] With peculiar versatility he contrived to make himself at home in both wings. It is essentially otherwise with the Logos doctrine of Irenæus.[549] Whereas Tertullian and Hippolytus developed their Logos doctrine without reference to the historical Jesus, the truth rather being that they simply add the incarnation to the already existing theory of the subject, there is no doubt that Irenæus, as a rule, made Jesus Christ, whom he views as God and man, the _starting-point_ of his speculation. Here he followed the Fourth Gospel and Ignatius. It is of Jesus that Irenæus almost always thinks when he speaks of the Logos or of the Son of God; and therefore he does not identify the divine element in Christ or Christ himself with the world idea or the creating Word or the Reason of God.[550] That he nevertheless makes Logos ([Greek: monogenês, prôtotokos], "only begotten," "first born") the regular designation of Christ as the preëxistent One can only be explained from the apologetic tradition which in his time was already recognised as authoritative by Christian scholars, and moreover appeared justified and required by John I. 1. Since both Irenæus and Valentinus consider redemption to be the special work of Christ, the cosmological interest in the doctrine of the second God becomes subordinate to the soteriological. As, however, in Irenæus' system (in opposition to Valentinus) this real redemption is to be imagined as _recapitulatio_ of the creation, redemption and creation are not opposed to each other as antitheses; and therefore the Redeemer has also his place in the history of creation. In a certain sense then the Christology of Irenæus occupies a middle position between the Christology of the Valentinians and Marcion on the one hand and the Logos doctrine of the Apologists on the other. The Apologists have a cosmological interest, Marcion only a soteriological, whereas Irenæus has both; the Apologists base their speculations on the Old Testament, Marcion on a New Testament, Irenæus on both Old and New. Irenæus expressly refused to investigate what the divine element in Christ is, and why another deity stands alongside of the Godhead of the Father. He confesses that he here simply keeps to the rule of faith and the Holy Scriptures, and declines speculative disquisitions on principle. He does not admit the distinction of a Word existing in God and one coming forth from him, and opposes not only ideas of emanation in general, but also the opinion that the Logos issued forth at a definite point of time. Nor will Irenæus allow the designation "Logos" to be interpreted in the sense of the Logos being the inward Reason or the spoken Word of God. God is a simple essence and always remains in the same state; besides we ought not to hypostatise qualities.[551] Nevertheless Irenæus, too, calls the preëxistent Christ the Son of God, and strictly maintains the personal distinction between Father and Son. What makes the opposite appear to be the case is the fact that he does not utilise the distinction in the interest of cosmology.[552] In Irenæus' sense we shall have to say: The Logos is the revelation hypostasis of the Father, "the self-revelation of the self-conscious God," and indeed the eternal self-revelation. For according to him the Son _always_ existed with God, _always_ revealed the Father, and it was always the _full_ Godhead that he revealed in himself. In other words, he is God in his specific nature, _truly_ God, and there is no distinction of essence between him and God.[553] Now we might conclude from the strong emphasis laid on "always" that Irenæus conceived a relationship of Father and Son in the Godhead, conditioned by the essence of God himself and existing independently of revelation. But the second hypostasis is viewed by him as existing from all eternity, just as much in the quality of Logos as in that of Son, and his very statement that the Logos has revealed the Father from the beginning shows that this relationship is always within the sphere of revelation. The Son then exists because he gives a revelation. Little interested as Irenæus is in saying anything about the Son, apart from his historical mission, naïvely as he extols the Father as the direct Creator of the universe, and anxious as he is to repress all speculations that lead beyond the Holy Scriptures, he could not altogether avoid reflecting on the problems: why there is a second deity alongside of God, and how the two are related to one another. His incidental answers are not essentially different from those of the Apologists and Tertullian; the only distinction is this incidental character. Irenæus too looked on the Son as "the hand of God," the mediator of creation; he also seems in one passage to distinguish Father and Son as the naturally invisible and visible elements of God; he too views the Father as the one who dominates all, the head of Christ, i.e., he who bears the creation and _his_ Logos.[554] Irenæus had no opportunity of writing against the Monarchians, and unfortunately we possess no apologetic writings of his. It cannot therefore he determined how he would have written, if he had had less occasion to avoid the danger of being himself led into Gnostic speculations about æons. It has been correctly remarked that with Irenæus the Godhead and the divine personality of Christ merely exist beside each other. He did not want to weigh the different problems, because, influenced as he was by the lingering effects of an early-Christian, anti-theological interest, he regarded the results of this reflection as dangerous; but, as a matter of fact, he did not really correct the premises of the problems by rejecting the conclusions. We may evidently assume (with Zahn) that, according to Irenæus, "God placed himself in the relationship of Father to Son, in order to create after his image and in his likeness the man who was to become his Son;"[555] but we ought not to ask if Irenæus understood the incarnation as a definite purpose necessarily involved in the Sonship, as this question falls outside the sphere of Patristic thinking. No doubt the incarnation constantly formed the preëminent interest of Irenæus, and owing to this interest he was able to put aside or throw a veil over the mythological speculations of the Apologists regarding the Logos, and to proceed at once to the soteriological question.[556] Nothing is more instructive than an examination of Irenæus' views with regard to the _destination of man_, the _original state_, the _fall_, and _sin_; because the heterogeneous elements of his "theology," the apologetic and moralistic the realistic, and the Biblical (Pauline), are specially apparent here, and the inconsistencies into which he was led are very plain. But these very contradictions were never eliminated from the Church doctrinal system of succeeding centuries and did not admit of being removed; hence his attitude on these points is typical.[557] The apologetic and moralistic train of thought is alone developed with systematic clearness. Everything created is imperfect, just from the very fact of its having had a beginning; therefore man also. The Deity is indeed capable of bestowing perfection on man from the beginning, but the latter was incapable of grasping or retaining it from the first. Hence perfection, i.e., incorruptibility, which consists in the contemplation of God and is conditional on voluntary obedience, could only be the _destination_ of man, and he must accordingly have been made _capable_ of it.[558] That destination is realised through the guidance of God and the free decision of man, for goodness not arising from free choice has no value. The capacity in question is on the one hand involved in man's possession of the divine image, which, however, is only realised in the body and is therefore at bottom a matter of indifference; and, on the other, in his likeness to God, which consists in the union of the soul with God's Spirit, but only comes about when man is obedient to him. Along with this Irenæus has also the idea that man's likeness consists in freedom. Now, as man became disobedient immediately after the creation, this likeness to God did not become perfect.[559] Through the fall he lost the fellowship with God to which he was destined, i.e., he is forfeit to death. This death was transmitted to Adam's whole posterity.[560] Here Irenæus followed sayings of Paul, but adopted the words rather than the sense; for, in the first place, like the Apologists, he very strongly emphasises the elements that palliate man's fall[561] and, secondly, he contemplates the fall as having a teleological significance. It is the fall itself and not, as in Paul's case, the consequences of the fall, that he thus views; for he says that disobedience was conducive to man's development. Man had to learn by experience that disobedience entails death, in order that he might acquire wisdom and choose freely to fulfil the commandments of God. Further, man was obliged to learn through the fall that goodness and life do not belong to him by nature as they do to God.[562] Here life and death are always the ultimate question to Irenæus. It is only when he quotes sayings of Paul that he remembers sin in connection with redemption; and ethical consequences of the fall are not mentioned in this connection. "The original destination of man was not abrogated by the fall, the truth rather being that the fall was intended as a means of leading men to attain this perfection to which they were destined."[563] Moreover, the goodness of God immediately showed itself both in the removal of the tree of life and in the sentence of temporal death.[564] What significance belongs to Jesus Christ within this conception is clear: he is the man who first realised in his person the destination of humanity; the Spirit of God became united with his soul and accustomed itself to dwell in men. But he is also the teacher who reforms mankind by his preaching, calls upon them to direct their still existing freedom to obedience to the divine commandments, thereby restoring, i.e., strengthening, freedom, so that humanity is thus rendered capable of receiving incorruptibility.[565] One can plainly see that this is the idea of Tatian and Theophilus, with which Irenæus has incorporated utterances of Paul. Tertullian and Hippolytus taught essentially the same doctrine;[566] only Tertullian beheld the image and likeness of God expressly and exclusively in the fact that man's will and capacity are free, and based on this freedom an argument in justification of God's ways.[567] But, in addition to this, Irenæus developed a second train of thought. This was the outcome of his Gnostic and realistic doctrine of recapitulation, and evinces clear traces of the influence of Pauline theology. It is, however, inconsistent with the moralistic teachings unfolded above, and could only be united with them at a few points. To the Apologists the proposition: "it is impossible to learn to know God without the help of God" ("impossibile est sine deo discere deum") was a conviction which, with the exception of Justin, they subordinated to their moralism and to which they did not give a specifically Christological signification. Irenæus understood this proposition in a Christological sense,[568] and at the same time conceived the blessing of salvation imparted by Christ not only as the incorruptibility consisting in the beholding of God bestowed on obedience IV. 20. 5-7: IV. 38, but also as the divine sonship which has been won for us by Christ and which is realised in constant fellowship with God and dependence on him.[569] No doubt he also viewed this divine sonship as consisting in the transformation of human nature; but the point of immediate importance here is that it is no longer human freedom but Christ that he contemplated in this connection. Corresponding to this he has now also a different idea of the original destination of man, of Adam, and of the results of the fall. Here comes in the mystical Adam-Christ speculation, in accordance with the Epistles to the Ephesians and Corinthians. Everything, that is, the "longa hominum expositio," was recapitulated by Christ in himself; in other words he restored humanity _to what it originally was_ and again included under one head what was divided.[570] If humanity is restored, then it must have lost something before and been originally in good condition. In complete contradiction to the other teachings quoted above, Irenæus now says: "What we had lost in Adam, namely, our possession of the image and likeness of God, we recover in Christ."[571] Adam, however, is humanity; in other words, as all humanity is united and renewed through Christ so also it was already summarised in Adam. Accordingly "the sin of disobedience and the loss of salvation which Adam consequently suffered may now be viewed as belonging to all mankind summed up in him, in like manner as Christ's obedience and possession of salvation are the property of all mankind united under him as their head."[572] In the first Adam we offended God by not fulfilling his commandments; in Adam humanity became disobedient, wounded, sinful, bereft of life; through Eve mankind became forfeit to death; through its victory over the first man death descended upon us all, and the devil carried us all away captive etc.[573] Here Irenæus always means that in Adam, who represents all mankind as their head, the latter became doomed to death. In this instance he did not think of a hereditary transmission, but of a mystic unity[574] as in the case of Christ, viewed as the second Adam. The teachings in III. 21. 10-23[575] show what an almost naturalistic shape the religious quasi-historical idea assumed in Irenæus' mind. This is, however, more especially evident from the assertion, in opposition to Tatian, that unless Adam himself had been saved by Christ, God would have been overcome by the devil.[576] It was merely his moralistic train of thought that saved him from the conclusion that there is a restoration of _all_ individual men. This conception of Adam as the representative of humanity corresponds to Irenæus' doctrine of the God-man. The historical importance of this author lies in the development of the Christology. At the present day, ecclesiastical Christianity, so far as it seriously believes in the unity of the divine and human in Jesus Christ and deduces the divine manhood from the work of Christ as his deification, still occupies the same standpoint as Irenæus did. Tertullian by no means matched him here; he too has the formula in a few passages, but he cannot, like Irenæus, account for its content. On the other hand we owe to him the idea of the "two natures," which remain in their integrity--that formula which owes its adoption to the influence of Leo I. and at bottom contradicts Irenæus' thought "the Son of God became the Son of man," ("filius dei factus filius hominis"). Finally, the manner in which Irenæus tried to interpret the historical utterances about Jesus Christ from the standpoint of the Divine manhood idea, and to give them a significance in regard to salvation is also an epoch-making fact. "Filius dei filius hominis factus," "it is one and the same Jesus Christ, not a Jesus and a Christ, nor a mere temporary union of an æon and a man, but one and the same person, who created the world, was born, suffered, and ascended"--this along with the dogma of God the Creator is the cardinal doctrine of Irenæus:[577] "Jesus Christ truly man and truly God" ("Jesus Christus, vere homo, vere deus").[578] It is only the Church that adheres to this doctrine, for "none of the heretics hold the opinion that the Word of God became flesh" ("secundum nullam sententiam hæreticorum verbum dei caro factum est").[579] What therefore has to be shown is (1) that Jesus Christ is really the Word of God, i.e., is God, (2) that this Word really became man and (3) that the incarnate Word is an inseparable unity. Irenæus maintains the first statement as well against the "Ebionites" as against the Valentinians who thought that Christ's advent was the descent of one of the many æons. In opposition to the Ebionites he emphasises the distinction between natural and adopted Sonship, appeals to the Old Testament testimony in favour of the divinity of Christ,[580] and moreover argues that we would still be in the bondage of the old disobedience, if Jesus Christ had only been a man.[581] In this connection he also discussed the birth from the virgin.[582] He not only proved it from prophecy, but his recapitulation theory also suggested to him a parallel between Adam and Eve on the one hand and Christ and Mary on the other, which included the birth from the virgin.[583] He argues in opposition to the Valentinians that it was really the eternal Word of God himself, who was always with God and always present to the human race, that descended.[584] He who became man was not a being foreign to the world--this is said in opposition to Marcion--but the Lord of the world and humanity, the Son of God, and none other. The reality of the body of Christ, i.e., the essential identity of the humanity of Christ with our own, was continually emphasised by Irenæus, and he views the whole work of salvation as dependent on this identity.[585] In the latter he also includes the fact that Jesus must have passed through and been subjected to all the conditions of a complete human life from birth to old age and death.[586] Jesus Christ is therefore the Son of God who has really become the Son of man; and these are not two Christs but one, in whom the Logos is permanently united with humanity.[587] Irenæus called this union "union of the Word of God with the creature" ("adunitio verbi dei ad plasma")[588] and "blending and communion of God and man" ("commixtio et communio dei et hominis")[589] without thereby describing it any more clearly.[590] He views it as perfect, for, _as a rule_, he will not listen to any separation of what was done by the man Jesus and by God the Word.[591] The explicit formula of two substances or natures in Christ is not found in Irenæus; but Tertullian already used it. It never occurred to the former, just because he was not here speaking as a theologian, but expressing his belief.[592] In his utterances about the God-man Tertullian closely imitates Irenæus. Like the latter he uses the expression "man united with God" ("homo deo mixtus")[593] and like him he applies the predicates of the man to the Son of God.[594] But he goes further, or rather, in the interest of formal clearness, he expresses the mystery in a manner which shows that he did not fully realise the religious significance of the proposition, "the Son of God made Son of man" ("filius dei filius hominis factus"). He speaks of a "corporal and spiritual, i.e., divine, substance of the Lord", ("corporalis et spiritalis (i.e., divina) substantia domini")[595] of "either substance of the flesh and spirit of Christ" ("utraque substantia et carnis et spiritus Christi"), of the "creation of two substances which Christ himself also possesses," ("conditio duarum substantiarum, quas Christus et ipse gestat")[596] and of the "twofold condition not blended but united in one person--God and man" ("duplex status _non confusus sed conjunctus_ in una persona--deus et homo".)[597] Here we already have in a complete form the later Chalcedonian formula of the two substances in one person.[598] At the same time, however, we can clearly see that Tertullian went beyond Irenæus in his exposition.[599] He was, moreover, impelled to combat an antagonistic principle. Irenæus had as yet no occasion to explain in detail that the proposition "the Word became flesh" ("verbum caro factum") denoted no transformation. That he excludes the idea of change, and that he puts stress on the Logos' assumption of flesh from the Virgin is shown by many passages.[600] Tertullian, on the other hand, was in the first place confronted by (Gnostic) opponents who understood John's statement in the sense of the Word's transforming himself into flesh, and therefore argued against the "assumption of flesh from the Virgin" ("assumptio carnis ex virgine");[601] and, in the second place, he had to do with Catholic Christians who indeed admitted the birth from the Virgin, but likewise assumed a change of God into flesh, and declared the God thus invested with flesh to be the Son.[602] In this connection the same Tertullian, who in the Church laid great weight on formulæ like "the crucified God," "God consented to be born" ("deus crucifixus," "nasci se voluit deus") and who, impelled by opposition to Marcion and by his apologetic interest, distinguished the Son as capable of suffering from God the Father who is impassible, and imputed to him human weaknesses--which was already a further step,--sharply emphasised the "distinct function" ("distincte agere") of the two substances in Christ and thus separated the persons. With Tertullian the interest in the Logos doctrine, on the one hand, and in the real humanity, on the other, laid the basis of that conception of Christology in accordance with which the unity of the person is nothing more than an assertion. The "deus factus homo" ("verbum caro factus") presents quite insuperable difficulties, as soon as "theology" can no longer be banished. Tertullian smoothed over these difficulties by juristic distinctions, for all his elucidations of "substance" and "person" are of this nature. A somewhat paradoxical result of the defence of the Logos doctrine in the struggle against the "Patripassians" was the increased emphasis that now began to be laid on the integrity and independence of the human nature in Christ. If the only essential result of the struggle with Gnosticism was to assert the substantial reality of Christ's body, it was Tertullian who distinguished what Christ did as man from what he did as God in order to prove that he was not a _tertium quid_. The discriminating intellect which was forced to receive a doctrine as a problem could not proceed otherwise. But, even before the struggle with Modalism, elements were present which repressed the naïve confidence of the utterances about the God-man. If I judge rightly, there were two features in Irenæus both of which resulted in a splitting up of the conception of the perfect unity of Christ's person. The first was the intellectual contemplation of the perfect humanity of Jesus, the second was found in certain Old and New Testament texts and the tradition connected with these.[603] With regard to the first we may point out that Irenæus indeed regarded the union of the human and divine as possible only because man, fashioned from the beginning by and after the pattern of the Logos, was an image of the latter and destined for union with God. Jesus Christ is the realisation of our possession of God's image;[604] but this thought, if no further developed, may be still united with the Logos doctrine in such a way that it does not interfere with it, but serves to confirm it. The case becomes different when it is not only shown that the Logos was always at work in the human race, but that humanity was gradually more and more accustomed by him (in the patriarchs and prophets) to communion with God,[605] till at last the perfect man appeared in Christ. For in this view it might appear as if the really essential element in Jesus Christ were not the Logos, who has become the new Adam, but the new Adam, who possesses the Logos. That Irenæus, in explaining the life of Jesus as that of Adam according to the recapitulation theory, here and there expresses himself as if he were speaking of the perfect man, is undeniable: If the acts of Christ are really to be what they seem, the man concerned in them must be placed in the foreground. But how little Irenæus thought of simply identifying the Logos with the perfect man is shown by the passage in III. 19. 3 where he writes: "[Greek: hôsper gar ên anthrôpos hina peirasthê, houtô kai logos hina doxasthê. êsychazontos men tou logou en tô peirazesthai kai staurousthai kai apothnêskein sugginomenou de tô anthrôpô en tô nikan kai hypomenein kai chrêsteuesthai kai anistasthai kai analambanesthai]" ("For as he was man that he might be tempted, so also he was the Logos that he might be glorified. The Logos remained quiescent during the process of temptation, crucifixion and death, but aided the human nature when it conquered, and endured, and performed deeds of kindness, and rose again from the dead, and was received up into heaven"). From these words it is plain that Irenæus preferred to assume that the divine and human natures existed side by side, and consequently to split up the perfect unity, rather than teach a mere ideal manhood which would be at the same time a divine manhood. The "discrete agere" of the two natures proves that to Irenæus the perfect manhood of the incarnate Logos was merely an incidental quality he possessed. In reality the Logos is the perfect man in so far as his incarnation creates the perfect man and renders him possible, or the Logos always exists behind Christ the perfect man. But nevertheless this very way of viewing the humanity in Christ already compelled Irenæus to limit the "deus crucifixus" and to lay the foundation for Tertullian's formulæ. With regard to the second point we may remark that there were not a few passages in both Testaments where Christ appeared as the man chosen by God and anointed with the Spirit. These as well as the corresponding language of the Church were the greatest difficulties in the way of the Logos Christology. Of what importance is an anointing with the Spirit to him who is God? What is the meaning of Christ being born by the power of the Holy Ghost? Is this formula compatible with the other, that he as the Logos himself assumed flesh from the Virgin etc.? Irenæus no doubt felt these difficulties. He avoided them (III. 9. 3) by referring the bestowal of the Spirit at baptism merely to the _man_ Jesus, and thus gave his own approval to that separation which appeared to him so reprehensible in the Gnostics.[606] This separation indeed rescued to future ages the minimum of humanity that was to be retained in the person of Christ, but at the same time it laid the foundation of those differentiating speculations, which in succeeding times became the chief art and subject of dispute among theologians. The fact is that one cannot think in realistic fashion of the "deus homo factus" without thinking oneself out of it. It is exceedingly instructive to find that, in some passages, even a man like Irenæus was obliged to advance from the creed of the one God-man to the assumption of two independent existences in Christ, an assumption which in the earlier period has only "Gnostic" testimony in its favour. Before Irenæus' day, in fact, none but these earliest theologians taught that Jesus Christ had two natures, and ascribed to them particular actions and experiences. The Gnostic distinction of the Jesus _patibilis_ ("capable of suffering") and the Christ [Greek: apathês] ("impassible") is essentially identical with the view set forth by Tertullian adv. Prax., and this proves that the doctrine of the two natures is simply nothing else than the Gnostic, i.e., scientific, adaptation of the formula: "filius dei filius hominis factus." No doubt the old early-Christian interest still makes itself felt in the _assertion_ of the one person. Accordingly we can have no historical understanding of Tertullian's Christology or even of that of Irenæus without taking into account, as has not yet been done, the Gnostic distinction of Jesus and Christ, as well as those old traditional formulæ: "deus passus, deus crucifixus est" ("God suffered, God was crucified").[607] But beyond doubt the prevailing conception of Christ in Irenæus is the idea that there was the most complete unity between his divine and human natures; for it is the necessary consequence of his doctrine of redemption, that "_Jesus Christus factus est, quod sumus nos, uti nos perficeret esse quod et ipse_"[608] ("Jesus Christ became what we are in order that we might become what he himself is"). But, in accordance with the recapitulation theory, Irenæus developed the "factus est quod sumus nos" in such a way that the individual portions of the life of Christ, as corresponding to what we ought to have done but did not do, receive the value of saving acts culminating in the death on the cross. Thus he not only regards Jesus Christ as "salvation and saviour and saving" ("salus et salvator et salutare"),[609] but he also views his whole life as a work of salvation. All that has taken place between the conception and the ascension is an inner necessity in this work of salvation. This is a highly significant advance beyond the conception of the Apologists. Whilst in their case the history of Jesus seems to derive its importance almost solely from the fulfilment of prophecy, it acquires in Irenæus an independent and fundamental significance. Here also we recognise the influence of "Gnosis," nay, in many places he uses the same expressions as the Gnostics, when he sees salvation accomplished, on the one hand, in the mere appearance of Jesus Christ as the second Adam, and on the other, in the simple acknowledgment of this appearance.[610] But he is distinguished from them by the fact that he decidedly emphasises the personal acts of Jesus, and that he applies the benefits of Christ's work not to the "pneumatic" _ipso facto_, but in principle to all men, though practically only to those who listen to the Saviour's words and adorn themselves with works of righteousness.[611] Irenæus presented this work of Christ from various points of view. He regards it as the realisation of man's original destiny, that is, being in communion with God, contemplating God, being imperishable like God; he moreover views it as the abolition of the consequences of Adam's disobedience, and therefore as the redemption of men from death and the dominion of the devil; and finally he looks upon it as reconciliation with God. In all these conceptions Irenæus fell back upon the _person_ of Christ. Here, at the same time, he is everywhere determined by the content of Biblical passages; in fact it is just the New Testament that leads him to these considerations, as was first the case with the Valentinians before him. How uncertain he still is as to their ecclesiastical importance is shown by the fact that he has no hesitation in reckoning the question, as to why the Word of God became flesh and suffered, among the articles that are a matter of consideration for science, but not for the simple faith (I. 10. 3). Here, therefore, he still maintains the archaic standpoint according to which it is sufficient to adhere to the baptismal confession and wait for the second coming of Christ along with the resurrection of the body. On the other hand, Irenæus did not merely confine himself to describing the fact of redemption, its content and its consequences; but he also attempted to explain the peculiar nature of this redemption from the essence of God and the incapacity of man, thus solving the question "cur deus homo" in the highest sense.[612] Finally, he adopted from Paul the thought that Christ's real work of salvation consists in his death on the cross; and so he tried to amalgamate the two propositions, "_filius dei filius hominis factus est propter nos_" ("the Son of God became Son of man for us") and "filius dei passus est propter nos" ("the Son of God suffered for us") as the most vital ones. He did not, however, clearly show which of these doctrines is the more important. Here the speculation of Irenæus is already involved in the same ambiguity as was destined to be the permanent characteristic of Church speculation as to Christ's work in succeeding times. For on the one hand, Paul led one to lay all the emphasis on the death on the cross, and on the other, the logical result of dogmatic thinking only pointed to the appearance of God in the flesh, but not to a particular work of Christ that had not been already involved in the appearance of the Divine Teacher himself. Still, Irenæus contrived to reconcile the discrepancy better than his successors, because, being in earnest with his idea of Christ as the second Adam, he was able to contemplate the whole life of Jesus as redemption in so far as he conceived it as a recapitulation. We see this at once not only from his conception of the virgin birth as a fact of salvation, but also from his way of describing redemption as deliverance from the devil. For, as the birth of Christ from the Virgin Mary is the recapitulating counterpart of Adam's birth from the virgin earth, and as the obedience of the mother of Jesus is the counterpart of Eve's disobedience, so the story of Jesus' temptation is to him the recapitulating counterpart of the story of Adam's temptation. In the way that Jesus overcame the temptation by the devil (Matt. IV.) Irenæus already sees the redemption of mankind from Satan; even then Jesus bound the strong one. But, whereas the devil seized upon man unlawfully and deceitfully, no injustice, untruthfulness, or violence is displayed in the means by which Jesus resisted Satan's temptation.[613] As yet Irenæus is quite as free from the thought that the devil has real rights upon man, as he is from the immoral idea that God accomplished his work of redemption by an act of deceit. But, on the strength of Pauline passages, many of his teachings rather view redemption from the devil as accomplished by the _death_ of Christ, and accordingly represent this death as a ransom paid to the "apostasy" for men who had fallen into captivity. He did not, however, develop this thought any further.[614] His idea of the _reconciliation_ of God is just as rudimentary, and merely suggested by Biblical passages. He sometimes saw the means of reconciliation solely in obedience and in the "righteous flesh" as such, at other times in the "wood." Here also the recapitulation theory again appears: through disobedience at the tree Adam became a debtor to God, and through obedience at the tree God is reconciled.[615] But teachings as to vicarious suffering on the part of Christ are not found in Irenæus, and his death is seldom presented from the point of view of a sacrifice offered to God.[616] According to this author the reconciliation virtually consists in Christ's restoring man to communion and friendship with God and procuring forgiveness of sins; he very seldom speaks of God being offended through Adam's sin (V. 16. 3). But the incidental mention of the forgiveness of sins resulting from the redemption by Christ has not the meaning of an _abolition_ of sin. He connects the redemption with this only in the form of Biblical and rhetorical phrases; for the vital point with him is the abolition of the _consequences_ of sin, and particularly of the sentence of death.[617] Here we have the transition to the conception of Christ's work which makes this appear more as a completion than as a restoration. In this connection Irenæus employed the following categories: _restoring of the likeness of God in humanity_; _abolition of death_; _connection and union of man with God_; _adoption of men as sons of God and as gods_; _imparting of the Spirit who now becomes accustomed to abide with men_;[618] _imparting of a knowledge of God culminating in beholding him_; _bestowal of everlasting life_. All these are only the different aspects of one and the same blessing, which, being of a divine order, could only be brought to us and implanted in our nature by God himself. But inasmuch as this view represents Christ not as performing a reconciling but a perfecting work, his _acts_ are thrust more into the background; his work is contained in his constitution as the God-man. Hence this work has a universal significance for all men, not only as regards the present, but as regards the past from Adam downwards, in so far as they "according to their virtue in their generation have not only feared but also loved God, and have behaved justly and piously towards their neighbours, and have longed to see Christ and to hear his voice."[619] Those redeemed by Jesus are immediately joined by him into a unity, into the true humanity, the Church, whose head he himself is.[620] This Church is the communion of the Sons of God, who have attained to a contemplation of him and have been gifted with everlasting life. In this the work of Christ the God-man is fulfilled. In Tertullian and Hippolytus, as the result of New Testament exegesis, we again find the same aspects of Christ's work as in Irenæus, only with them the mystical form of redemption recedes into the background.[621] Nevertheless the _eschatology_ as set forth by Irenæus in the fifth Book by no means corresponds to this conception of the work of Christ as a restoring and completing one; it rather appears as a remnant of antiquity directly opposed to the speculative interpretation of redemption, but protected by the _regula fidei_, the New Testament, especially Revelation, and the material hopes of the great majority of Christians. But it would be a great mistake to assume that Irenæus merely repeated the hopes of an earthly kingdom just because he still found them in tradition, and because they were completely rejected by the Gnostics and guaranteed by the _regula_ and the New Testament.[622] The truth rather is that he as well as Melito, Hippolytus, Tertullian, Lactantius, Commodian, and Victorinus lived in these hopes no less than did Papias, the Asia Minor Presbyters and Justin.[623] But this is the clearest proof that all these theologians were but half-hearted in their theology, which was forced upon them, in defence of the traditional faith, by the historical situation in which they found themselves. The Christ, who will shortly come to overcome Antichrist, overthrow the Roman empire, establish in Jerusalem a kingdom of glory, and feed believers with the fat of a miraculously fruitful earth, is in fact a quite different being from the Christ who, as the incarnate God, has already virtually accomplished his work of imparting perfect knowledge and filling mankind with divine life and incorruptibility. The fact that the old Catholic Fathers have both Christs shows more clearly than any other the middle position that they occupy between the acutely hellenised Christianity of the theologians, i.e., the Gnostics, and the old tradition of the Church. We have indeed seen that the twofold conception of Christ and his work dates back to the time of the Apostles, for there is a vast difference between the Christ of Paul and the Christ of the supposedly inspired Jewish Apocalypses; and also that the agency in producing this conjunction may be traced back to the oldest time; but the union of a precise Christological Gnosis, such as we find in Irenæus and Tertullian, with the retention in their integrity of the imaginative series of thoughts about Antichrist, Christ as the warrior hero, the double resurrection, and the kingdom of glory in Jerusalem, is really a historical novelty. There is, however, no doubt that the strength of the old Catholic theology in opposition to the Gnostics lies in the accomplishment of this union, which, on the basis of the New Testament, appeared to the Fathers possible and necessary. For it is not systematic consistency that secures the future of a religious conception within a church, but its elasticity, and its richness in dissimilar trains of thought. But no doubt this must be accompanied by a firm foundation, and this too the old Catholic Fathers possessed--the church system itself. As regards the details of the eschatological hopes, they were fully set forth by Irenæus himself in Book V. Apart from the belief that the returning Nero would be the Antichrist, an idea spread in the West during the third century by the Sibylline verses and proved from Revelation, the later teachers who preached chiliastic hopes did not seriously differ from the Gallic bishop; hence the interpretation of Revelation is in its main features the same. It is enough therefore to refer to the fifth Book of Irenæus.[624] There is no need to show in detail that chiliasm leads to a peculiar view of history, which is as much opposed to that resulting from the Gnostic theory of redemption, as this doctrine itself forbids the hope of a bliss to be realised in an earthly kingdom of glory. This is not the proper place to demonstrate to what extent the two have been blended, and how the chiliastic scheme of history has been emptied of its content and utilised in the service of theological apologetics. But the Gnostics were not the only opponents of chiliasm. Justin, even in his time, knew orthodox Christians who refused to believe in an earthly kingdom of Christ in Jerusalem, and Irenæus (V. 33 ff.), Tertullian, and Hippolytus[625] expressly argued against these. Soon after the middle of the second century, we hear of an ecclesiastical party in Asia Minor, which not only repudiated chiliasm, but also rejected the Revelation of John as an untrustworthy book, and subjected it to sharp criticism. These were the so-called Alogi.[626] But in the second century such Christians were still in the minority in the Church. It was only in the course of the third century that chiliasm was almost completely ousted in the East. This was the result of the Montanistic controversy and the Alexandrian theology. In the West, however, it was only threatened. In this Church the first literary opponent of chiliasm and of the Apocalypse appears to have been the Roman Presbyter Caius. But his polemic did not prevail. On the other hand the learned bishops of the East in the third century used their utmost efforts to combat and extirpate chiliasm. The information given to us by Eusebius (H. E. VII. 24), from the letters of Dionysius of Alexandria, about that father's struggles with whole communities in Egypt, who would not give up chiliasm, is of the highest interest. This account shews that wherever philosophical theology had not yet made its way the chiliastic hopes were not only cherished and defended against being explained away, but were emphatically regarded as Christianity itself.[627] Cultured theologians were able to achieve the union of chiliasm and religious philosophy; but the "simplices et idiotæ" could only understand the former. As the chiliastic hopes were gradually obliged to recede in exactly the same proportion as philosophic theology became naturalised, so also their subsidence denotes the progressive tutelage of the laity. The religion they understood was taken from them, and they received in return a faith they could not understand; in other words, the old faith and the old hopes decayed of themselves and the _authority_ of a mysterious faith took their place. In this sense the extirpation or decay of chiliasm is perhaps the most momentous fact in the history of Christianity in the East. With chiliasm men also lost the living faith in the nearly impending return of Christ, and the consciousness that the prophetic spirit with its gifts is a real possession of Christendom. Such of the old hopes as remained were at most particoloured harmless fancies which, when allowed by theology, were permitted to be added to dogmatics. In the West, on the contrary, the millennial hopes retained their vigour during the whole third century; we know of no bishop there who would have opposed chiliasm. With this, however, was preserved a portion of the earliest Christianity which was to exercise its effects far beyond the time of Augustine. Finally, we have still to treat of the altered conceptions regarding the Old Testament which the creation of the New produced among the early-Catholic Fathers. In the case of Barnabas and the Apologists we became acquainted with a theory of the Old Testament which represented it as the Christian book of revelation and accordingly subjected it throughout to an allegorical process. Here nothing specifically new could be pointed out as having been brought by Christ. Sharply opposed to this conception was that of Marcion, according to which the whole Old Testament was regarded as the proclamation of a Jewish God hostile to the God of redemption. The views of the majority of the Gnostics occupied a middle position between the two notions. These distinguished different components of the Old Testament, some of which they traced to the supreme God himself and others to intermediate and malevolent beings. In this way they both established a connection between the Old Testament, and the Christian revelation and contrived to show that the latter contained a specific novelty. This historico-critical conception, such as we specially see it in the epistle of Ptolemy to Flora, could not be accepted by the Church because it abolished strict monotheism and endangered the proof from prophecy. No doubt, however, we already find in Justin and others the beginning of a compromise, in so far as a distinction was made between the moral law of nature contained in the Old Testament--the Decalogue--and the ceremonial law; and in so far as the literal interpretation of the latter, for which a pedagogic significance was claimed, was allowed in addition to its typical or Christian sense. With this theory it was possible, on the one hand, to do some sort of justice to the historical position of the Jewish people, and on the other, though indeed in a meagre fashion, to give expression to the novelty of Christianity. The latter now appears as the _new_ law or the law of freedom, in so far as the moral law of nature had been restored in its full purity without the burden of ceremonies, and a particular historical relation to God was allowed to the Jewish nation, though indeed more a wrathful than a covenant one. For the ceremonial regulations were conceived partly as tokens of the judgment on Israel, partly as concessions to the stiffneckedness of the people in order to protect them from the worst evil, polytheism. Now the struggle with the Gnostics and Marcion, and the creation of a New Testament had necessarily a double consequence. On the one hand, the proposition that the "Father of Jesus Christ is the creator of the world and the God of the Old Testament" required the strictest adherence to the unity of the two Testaments, so that the traditional apologetic view of the older book had to undergo the most rigid development; on the other hand, as soon as the New Testament was created, it was impossible to avoid seeing that this book was superior to the earlier one, and thus the theory of the novelty of the Christian doctrine worked out by the Gnostics and Marcion had in some way or other to be set forth and demonstrated. We now see the old Catholic Fathers engaged in the solution of this twofold problem; and their method of accomplishing it has continued to be the prevailing one in all Churches up to the present time, in so far as the ecclesiastical and dogmatic practice still continues to exhibit the inconsistencies of treating the Old Testament as a Christian book in the strict sense of the word and yet elevating the New above it, of giving a typical interpretation to the ceremonial law and yet acknowledging that the Jewish people had a covenant with God. With regard to the first point, viz., the maintenance of the unity of the two Testaments, Irenæus and Tertullian gave a most detailed demonstration of it in opposition to Marcion,[628] and primarily indeed with the same means as the older teachers had already used. It is Christ that prophesied and appeared in the Old Testament; he is the householder who produced both Old and New Testaments.[629] Moreover, as the two have the same origin, their meaning is also the same. Like Barnabas the early Catholic Fathers contrived to give all passages in the Old Testament a typical Christian sense: it is the same truth which we can learn from the prophets and again from Christ and the Apostles. With regard to the Old Testament the watchword is: "Seek the type" ("Typum quæras").[630] But they went a step further still. In opposition to Marcion's antitheses and his demonstration that the God of the Old Testament is a petty being and has enjoined petty, external observances, they seek to show in syntheses that the same may be said of the New. (See Irenæus IV. 21-36). The effort of the older teachers to exclude everything outward and ceremonial is no longer met with to the same extent in Irenæus and Tertullian, at least when they are arguing and defending their position against the Gnostics. This has to be explained by two causes. In the first place Judaism (and Jewish Christianity) was at bottom no longer an enemy to be feared; they therefore ceased to make such efforts to avoid the "Jewish" conception of the Old Testament. Irenæus, for example, emphasised in the most naïve manner the observance of the Old Testament law by the early Apostles and also by Paul. This is to him a complete proof that they did not separate the Old Testament God from the Christian Deity.[631] In connection with this we observe that the radical antijudaism of the earliest period more and more ceases. Irenæus and Tertullian admitted that the Jewish nation had a covenant with God and that the literal interpretation of the Old Testament was justifiable. Both repeatedly testified that the Jews had the right doctrine and that they only lacked the knowledge of the Son. These thoughts indeed do not attain clear expression with them because their works contain no systematic discussions involving these principles. In the second place the Church itself had become an institution where sacred ceremonial injunctions were necessary; and, in order to find a basis for these, they had to fall back on Old Testament commandments (see Vol. I., chap. 6, p. 291 ff.). In Tertullian we find this only in its most rudimentary form;[632] but in the course of the third century these needs grew mightily[633] and were satisfied. In this way the Old Testament threatened to become an authentic book of revelation to the Church, and that in a quite different and much more dangerous sense than was formerly the case with the Apostolic Fathers and the Apologists. With reference to the second point, we may remark that just when the decay of antijudaism, the polemic against Marcion, and the new needs of the ecclesiastical system threatened the Church with an estimate of the Old Testament hitherto unheard of, the latter was nevertheless thrust back by the creation and authority of the New Testament, and this consequently revived the uncertain position in which the sacred book was henceforth to remain. Here also, as in every other case, the development in the Church ends with the _complexus oppositorum_, which nowhere allows all the conclusions to be drawn, but offers the great advantage of removing every perplexity up to a certain point. The early-Catholic Fathers adopted from Justin the distinction between the Decalogue, as the moral law of nature, and the ceremonial law; whilst the oldest theologians (the Gnostics) and the New Testament suggested to them the thought of the (relative) novelty of Christianity and therefore also of the New Testament. Like Marcion they acknowledged the literal sense of the ceremonial law and God's covenant with the Jews; and they sought to sum up and harmonise all these features in the thought of an economy of salvation and of a history of salvation. This economy and history of salvation which contained the conception of a divine _accommodation and pedagogy_, and which accordingly distinguished between constituent parts of different degrees of value (in the Old Testament also), is the great result presented in the main work of Irenæus and accepted by Tertullian. It is to exist beside the proof from prophecy without modifying it;[634] and thus appears as something intermediate between the Valentinian conception that destroyed the unity of origin of the Old Testament and the old idea which neither acknowledged various constituents in the book nor recognised the peculiarities of Christianity. We are therefore justified in regarding this history of salvation approved by the Church, as well as the theological propositions of Irenæus and Tertullian generally, as a Gnosis "toned down" and reconciled with Monotheism. This is shown too in the faint gleam of a historical view that still shines forth from this "history of salvation" as a remnant of that bright light which may be recognised in the Gnostic conception of the Old Testament.[635] Still, it is a striking advance that Irenæus has made beyond Justin and especially beyond Barnabas. No doubt it is mythological history that appears in this history of salvation and the recapitulating story of Jesus with its saving facts that is associated with it; and it is a view that is not even logically worked out, but ever and anon crossed by the proof from prophecy; yet for all that it is development and history. The fundamental features of Irenæus' conception are as follow: The Mosaic law and the New Testament dispensation of grace both emanated from one and the same God, _and were granted for the salvation of the human race in a form appropriate to the times_.[636] The two are in part different; but the difference must be conceived as due to causes[637] that do not affect the unity of the author and of the main points.[638] We must make the nature of God and the nature of man our point of departure. God is always the same, man is ever advancing towards God; God is always the giver, man always the receiver;[639] God leads us ever to the highest goal; man, however, is not God from the beginning, but is destined to incorruptibility, which he is to attain step by step, advancing from the childhood stage to perfection (see above, p. 267 f.). This progress, conditioned by the nature and destination of man, is, however, dependent on the revelation of God by his Son, culminating in the incarnation of the latter and closing with the subsequent bestowal of the Spirit on the human race. In Irenæus therefore the place of the many different revelation-hypostases of the Valentinians is occupied by the one God, who stoops to the level of developing humanity, accommodates himself to it, guides it, and bestows on it increasing revelations of grace.[640] The fundamental knowledge of God and the moral law of nature, i.e., natural morality, were already revealed to man and placed in his heart[641] by the creator. He who preserves these, as for example the patriarchs did, is justified. (In this case Irenæus leaves Adam's sin entirely out of sight). But it was God's will to bring men into a higher union with himself; wherefore his Son descended to men from the beginning and accustomed himself to dwell among them. The patriarchs loved God and refrained from injustice towards their neighbours; hence it was not necessary that they should be exhorted with the strict letter of the law, since they had the righteousness of the law in themselves.[642] But, as far as the great majority of men are concerned, they wandered away from God and fell into the sorriest condition. From this moment Irenæus, keeping strictly to the Old Testament, only concerns himself with the Jewish people. These are to him the representatives of humanity. It is only at this period that the training of the human race is given to them; but it is really the Jewish _nation_ that he keeps in view, and through this he differs very decidedly from such as Barnabas.[643] When righteousness and love to God died out in Egypt, God led his people forth so that man might again become a disciple and imitator of God. He gave him the written law (the Decalogue), which contains nothing else than the moral law of nature that had fallen into oblivion.[644] But when they made to themselves a golden calf and chose to be slaves rather than free men, then the Word, through the instrumentality of Moses, gave to them, as a particular addition, the commandments of slavery (the ceremonial law) in a form suitable for their training. These were bodily commandments of bondage which did not separate them from God, but held them in the yoke. The ceremonial law was thus a pedagogic means of preserving the people from idolatry; but it was at the same time a type of the future. Each constituent of the ceremonial law has this double signification, and both of these meanings originate with God, i.e., with Christ; for "how is Christ the end of the law, if he be not the beginning of it?" ("quomodo finis legis Christus, si non et initium eius esset") IV. 12. 4. Everything in the law is therefore holy, and moreover we are only entitled to blame such portions of the history of the Jewish nation as Holy Scripture itself condemns. This nation was obliged to circumcise itself, keep Sabbaths, offer up sacrifices, and do whatever is related of it, so far as its action is not censured. All this belonged to the state of bondage in which men had a _covenant_ with God and in which they also possessed the right faith in the one God and were taught before hand to follow his Son (IV. 12, 5; "lex prædocuit hominem sequi oportere Christum"). In addition to this, Christ continually manifested himself to the people in the prophets, through whom also he indicated the future and prepared men for his appearance. In the prophets the Son of God accustomed men to be instruments of the Spirit of God and to have fellowship with the Father in them; and in them he habituated himself to enter bodily into humanity.[645] Hereupon began the last stage, in which men, being now sufficiently trained, were to receive the "testamentum libertatis" and be adopted as Sons of God. By the union of the Son of God with the flesh the _agnitio filii_ first became possible to all; that is the fundamental novelty. The next problem was to restore the law of freedom. Here a threefold process was necessary. In the first place the Law of Moses, the Decalogue, had been disfigured and blunted by the "traditio seniorum". First of all then the pure moral law had to be restored; secondly, it was now necessary to extend and fulfil it by expressly searching out the inclinations of the heart in all cases, thus unveiling the law in its whole severity; and lastly the _particularia legis_, i.e., the law of bondage, had to be abolished. But in the latter connection Christ and the Apostles themselves avoided every transgression of the ceremonial law, in order to prove that this also had a divine origin. The non-observance of this law was first permitted to the Gentile Christians. Thus, no doubt, Christ himself is the end of the law, but only in so far as he has abolished the law of bondage and restored the moral law in its whole purity and severity, and given us himself. The question as to the difference between the New Testament and the Old is therefore answered by Irenæus in the following manner. It consists (1) in the _agnitio filii_ and consequent transformation of the slaves into children of God; and (2) in the restoration of the law, which is a law of freedom just because it excludes bodily commandments, and with stricter interpretation lays the whole stress on the inclinations of the heart.[646] But in these two respects he finds a real addition, and hence, in his opinion, the Apostles stand higher than the prophets. He proves this higher position of the Apostles by a surprising interpretation of 1 Cor. XII. 28, conceiving the prophets named in that passage to be those of the Old Testament.[647] He therefore views the two Testaments as of the same nature, but "greater is the legislation which confers liberty than that which brings bondage" ("maior est legisdatio quæ in libertatem, quam quæ data est in servitutem"). Through the two covenants the accomplishment of salvation was to be hastened "for there is one salvation and one God; but the precepts that form man are numerous, and the steps that lead man to God are not a few;" ("una est enim salus et unus deus; quæ autem formant hominem, præcepta multa et non pauci gradus, qui adducunt hominem ad deum"). A worldly king can increase his benefits to his subjects; and should it not also be lawful for God, though he is always the same, to honour continually with greater gifts those who are well pleasing to him? (IV. 9. 3). Irenæus makes no direct statement as to the further importance which the Jewish people have, and in any case regards them as of no consequence after the appearance of the covenant of freedom. Nor does this nation appear any further even in the chiliastic train of thought. It furnishes the Antichrist and its holy city becomes the capital of Christ's earthly kingdom; but the nation itself, which, according to this theory, had represented all mankind from Moses to Christ, just as if all men had been Jews, now entirely disappears.[648] This conception, in spite of its want of stringency, made an immense impression, and has continued to prevail down to the present time. It has, however, been modified by a combination with the Augustinian doctrine of sin and grace. It was soon reckoned as Paul's conception, to which in fact it has a distant relationship. Tertullian had already adopted it in its essential features, amplified it in some points, and, in accordance with his Montanist ideas, enriched it by adding a fourth stage (ab initio--Moses--Christ--Paraclete). But this addition was not accepted by the Church.[649] 3. _Results to ecclesiastical Christianity._ As we have shown, Irenæus, Tertullian, and Hippolytus had no strictly systematised theology; they formulated theological propositions because their opponents were theologians. Hence the result of their labours, so far as this was accepted by the Western Church of the third century, does not appear in the adoption of a systematic philosophical dogmatic, but in theological fragments, namely, the rule of faith fixed and interpreted in an antignostic sense[650]. As yet the rule of faith and theology nowhere came into collision in the Western Churches of the third century, because Irenæus and his younger contemporaries did not themselves notice any such discrepancies, but rather imagined all their teachings to be expositions of the faith itself, and did not trouble their heads about inconsistencies. If we wish to form a notion as to what ideas had become universally prevalent in the Church in the middle of the third century let us compare Cyprian's work "Testimonia", written for a layman, with Novatian's work "De Trinitate". In the "Testimonia" the doctrine of the two Testaments, as developed by Irenæus, forms the framework in which the individual dogmas are set. The doctrine of God, which should have been placed at the beginning, has been left out in this little book probably because the person addressed required no instruction on the point. Some of the dogmas already belong to philosophical theology in the strict sense of the word; in others we have merely a precise assertion of the truth of certain facts. All propositions are, however, supported by passages from the two Testaments and thereby proved.[651] The theological counterpart to this is Novatian's work "De Trinitate". This first great Latin work that appeared in Rome is highly important. In regard to completeness, extent of Biblical proofs, and perhaps also its influence on succeeding times, it may in many respects be compared with Origen's work [Greek: peri archôn]. Otherwise indeed it differs as much from that work, as the sober, meagre theology of the West, devoid of philosophy and speculation, differs in general from that of the East. But it sums up in classic fashion the doctrines of Western orthodoxy, the main features of which were sketched by Tertullian in his antignostic writings and the work against Praxeas. The old Roman symbol forms the basis of the work. In accordance with this the author gives a comprehensive exposition of his doctrine of God in the first eight chapters. Chapters 9-28 form the main portion; they establish the correct Christology in opposition to the heretics who look on Christ as a mere man or as the Father himself; the Holy Scriptures furnish the material for the proofs. Chapter 29 treats of the Holy Spirit. Chapters 30 and 31 contain the recapitulation and conclusion. The whole is based on Tertullian's treatise against Praxeas. No important argument in that work has escaped Novatian; but everything is extended, and made more systematic and polished. No trace of Platonism is to be found in this dogmatic; on the contrary he employs the Stoic and Aristotelian syllogistic and dialectic method used also by his Monarchian opponents. This plan together with its Biblical attitude gives the work great outward completeness and certainty. We cannot help concluding that this work must have made a deep impression wherever it was read, although the real difficulties of the matter are not at all touched upon, but veiled by distinctions and formulæ. It probably contributed not least to make Tertullian's type of Christology the universal Western one. This type, however, as will be set forth in greater detail hereafter, already approximates closely to the resolutions of Nicæa and Chalcedon.[652] Novatian adopted Tertullian's formulæ "one substance, three persons" ("una substantia, tres personæ"), "from the substance of God" ("ex substantia dei"), "always with the Father" ("semper apud patrem"), "God and man" ("deus et homo"), "two substances" ("duæ substantiæ"), "one person" ("una persona"), as well as his expressions for the union and separation of the two natures adding to them similar ones and giving them a wider extension.[653] Taking his book in all we may see that he thereby created for the West a dogmatic _vademecum_, which, from its copious and well-selected quotations from Scripture, must have been of extraordinary service. The most important articles which were now fixed and transferred to the general creed along with the necessary proofs, especially in the West, were: (1) the unity of God, (2) the identity of the supreme God and the creator of the world, that is, the identity of the mediators of creation and redemption, (3) the identity of the supreme God with the God of the Old Testament, and the declaration that the Old Testament is God's book of revelation, (4) the creation of the world out of nothing, (5) the unity of the human race, (6) the origin of evil from freedom, and the inalienable nature of freedom, (7) the two Testaments, (8) Christ as God and Man, the unity of his personality, the truth of his divinity, the actuality of his humanity, the reality of his fate, (9) the redemption and conclusion of a covenant through Christ as the new and crowning manifestation of God's grace to all men, (10) the resurrection of man in soul and body. But the transmission and interpretation of these propositions, by means of which the Gnostic theses were overthrown, necessarily involved the transmission of the Logos doctrine; for the doctrine of the revelation of God and of the two Testaments could not have prevailed without this theory. How this hypothesis gained acceptance in the course of the third century, and how it was the means of establishing and legitimising philosophical theology as part of the faith, will be shown in the seventh chapter. We may remark in conclusion that the religious hope which looked forward to an earthly kingdom of Christ was still the more widely diffused among the Churches of the third century;[654] but that the other hope, viz., that of being deified, was gaining adherents more and more. The latter result was due to men's increasing indifference to daily life and growing aspiration after a higher one, a longing that was moreover nourished among the more cultured by the philosophy which was steadily gaining ground. The hope of deification is the expression of the idea that this world and human nature do not correspond to that exalted world which man has built up within his own mind and which he may reasonably demand to be realised, because it is only in it that he can come to himself. The fact that Christian teachers like Theophilus, Irenæus, and Hippolytus expressly declared this to be a legitimate Christian hope and held out a sure prospect of its fulfilment through Christ, must have given the greatest impulse to the spread and adoption of this ecclesiastical Christianity. But, when the Christian religion was represented as the belief in the incarnation of God and as the sure hope of the deification of man, a speculation that had originally never got beyond the fringe of religious knowledge was made the central point of the system and the simple content of the Gospel was obscured.[655] Footnotes: [Footnote 460: Authorities: The works of Irenæus (Stieren's and Harvey's editions), Melito (Otto, Corp. Apol. IX.), Tertullian (Oehler's and Reiflerscheid's editions), Hippolytus (Fabricius', Lagarde's, Duncker's and Schneidewin's editions), Cyprian (Hartel's edition), Novatian (Jackson). Biographies of Bohringer, Die Kirche Christi und ihre Zeugen, 1873 ff. Werner, Der Paulinismus des Irenäus, 1889. Nöldechen, Tertullian, 1890. Döllinger, "Hippolytus und Kallistus," 1853. Many monographs on Irenæus and Tertullian.] [Footnote 461: The following exposition will show how much Irenæus and the later old Catholic teachers learned from the Gnostics. As a matter of fact the theology of Irenæus remains a riddle so long as we try to explain it merely from the Apologists and only consider its antithetical relations to Gnosis. Little as we can understand modern orthodox theology from a historical point of view--if the comparison be here allowed--without keeping in mind what it has adopted from Schleiermacher and Hegel, we can just as little understand the theology of Irenæus without taking into account the schools of Valentinus and Marcion.] [Footnote 462: That Melito is to be named here follows both from Eusebius, H. E. V. 28. 5, and still more plainly from what we know of the writings of this bishop; see Texte und Untersuchungen zur Geschichte der altchristlichen Litteratur, I. 1, 2, p. 24 ff. The polemic writings of Justin and the Antignostic treatise of that "ancient" quoted by Irenæus (see Patr. App. Opp. ed. Gebhardt etc. I. 2, p. 105 sq.) may in a certain sense be viewed as the precursors of Catholic literature. We have no material for judging of them with certainty. The New Testament was not yet at the disposal of their authors, and consequently there is a gap between them and Irenæus.] [Footnote 463: See Eusebius, H. E. V. 13.] [Footnote 464: Tertullian does indeed say in de præscr. 14: "Ceterum manente forma regulæ fidei in suo ordine quantumlibet quæras, et trades, et omnem libidinem curiositatis effundas, si quid tibi videtur vel ambiguitate pendere vel obscuritate obumbrari"; but the preceding exposition of the _regula_ shows that scarcely any scope remained for the "curiositas," and the one that follows proves that Tertullian did not mean that freedom seriously.] [Footnote 465: The most important point was that the Pauline theology, towards which Gnostics, Marcionites, and Encratites had already taken up a definite attitude, could now no longer be ignored. See Overbeck's Basler Univ.--Programm, 1877. Irenæus immediately shows the influence of Paulinism very clearly.] [Footnote 466: See what Rhodon says about the issue of his conversation with Appelles in Euseb., H. E. V. 13. 7: [Greek: egô de gelasas kategnôn autou, dioti dedaskalos einai legôn oun êdei to didaskomenon hup' autou kratunein].] [Footnote 467: On the old "prophets and teachers" see my remarks on the [Greek: Didachê], c. 11 ff., and the section, pp. 93-137, of the prolegomena to my edition of this work. The [Greek: didaskaloi apostolikoi kai prophêtikoi] (Ep. Smyrn. ap. Euseb., H. E. IV. 15. 39) became lay-teachers who were skilful in the interpretation of the sacred traditions.] [Footnote 468: In the case of Irenæus, as is well known, there was absolutely no consciousness of this, as is well remarked by Eusebius in H. E. V. 7. In support of his own writings, however, Irenæus appealed to no charisms.] [Footnote 469: See the passage already quoted on p. 63, note 1.] [Footnote 470: Irenæus and Tertullian scoffed at the Gnostic terminology in the most bitter way.] [Footnote 471: Tertullian, adv. Prax. 3: "Simplices enim quique, ne dixerim imprudentes et idiotæ, quæ major semper credentium pars est, quoniam et ipsa regula fidei a pluribus diis sæculi ad unicum et verum deum transfert, non intellegentes unicum quidem, sed cum sua [Greek: oikonomia] esse credendum, expavescunt ad [Greek: oikonomian]." Similar remarks often occur in Origen. See also Hippol., c. Noet 11.] [Footnote 472: The danger of speculation and of the desire to know everything was impressively emphasised by Irenæus, II. 25-28. As a pronounced ecclesiastical positivist and traditionalist, he seems in these chapters disposed to admit nothing but obedient and acquiescent faith in the words of Holy Scripture, and even to reject speculations like those of Tatian, Orat. 5. Cf. the disquisitions II. 25. 3: "Si autem et aliquis non invenerit causam omnium quæ requiruntur, cogitet, quia homo est in infinitum minor deo et qui ex parte (cf. II. 28.) acceperit gratiam et qui nondum æqualis vel similis sit factori"; II. 26. 1: [Greek: Ameinon kai symphorôteron idiôtas kai oligomatheis huparchein, kai dia tês agapês plêsion genesthai tou Theou ê polymatheis kai empeirous dokountas einai, blasphêmous eis ton heautôn heuriskesthai despotên], and in addition to this the close of the paragraph, II. 27. 1: Concerning the sphere within which we are to search (the Holy Scriptures and "quæ ante oculos nostros occurrunt", much remains dark to us even in the Holy Scriptures II. 28. 3); II. 28. 1 f. on the canon which is to be observed in all investigations, namely, the confident faith in God the creator, as the supreme and only Deity; II. 28. 2-7: specification of the great problems whose solution is hid from us, viz., the elementary natural phenomena, the relation of the Son to the Father, that is, the manner in which the Son was begotten, the way in which matter was created, the cause of evil. In opposition to the claim to absolute knowledge, i.e., to the complete discovery of all the processes of causation, which Irenæus too alone regards as knowledge, he indeed pointed out the limits of our perception, supporting his statement by Bible passages. But the ground of these limits, "ex parte accepimus gratiam," is not an early-Christian one, and it shows at the same time that the bishop also viewed knowledge as the goal, though indeed he thought it could not be attained on earth.] [Footnote 473: The same observation applies to Tertullian, Cf. his point blank repudiation of philosophy in de præse. 7, and the use he himself nevertheless made of it everywhere.] [Footnote 474: In point of form this standpoint is distinguished from the ordinary Gnostic position by its renunciation of absolute knowledge, and by its corresponding lack of systematic completeness. That, however, is an important distinction in favour of the Catholic Fathers. According to what has been set forth in the text I cannot agree with Zahn's judgment (Marcellus of Ancyra, p. 235 f.): "Irenæus is the first ecclesiastical teacher who has grasped the idea of an independent science of Christianity, of a theology which, in spite of its width and magnitude, is a branch of knowledge distinguished from others; and was also the first to mark out the paths of this science."] [Footnote 475: Tertullian seems even to have had no great appreciation for the degree of systematic exactness displayed in the disquisitions of Irenæus. He did not reproduce these arguments at least, but preferred after considering them to fall back on the proof from prescription.] [Footnote 476: The more closely we study the writings of Tertullian, the more frequently we meet with inconsistencies, and that in his treatment both of dogmatic and moral questions. Such inconsistencies could not but make their appearance, because Tertullian's dogmatising was only incidental. As far as he himself was concerned, he did not feel the slightest necessity for a systematic presentation of Christianity.] [Footnote 477: With reference to certain articles of doctrine, however, Tertullian adopted from Irenæus some guiding principles and some points of view arising from the nature of faith; but he almost everywhere changed them for the worse. The fact that he was capable of writing a treatise like the de præscr. hæret., in which all proof of the intrinsic necessity and of the connection of his dogmas is wanting, shows the limits of his interests and of his understanding.] [Footnote 478: Further references to Tertullian in a future volume. Tertullian is at the same time the first Christian _individual_ after Paul, of whose inward life and peculiarities we can form a picture to ourselves. His writings bring us near himself, but that cannot be said of Irenæus.] [Footnote 479: Consequently the _spirit_ of Irenæus, though indeed strongly modified by that of Origen, prevails in the later Church dogmatic, whilst that of Tertullian is not to be traced there.] [Footnote 480: The supreme God is the Holy and Redeeming One. Hence the identity of the creator of the world and the supreme God also denotes the unity of nature, morality, and revelation.] [Footnote 481: What success the early-Christian writings of the second century had is almost completely unknown to us; but we are justified in saying that the five books "adv. hæreses" of Irenæus were successful, for we can prove the favourable reception of this work and the effects it had in the 3rd and 4th centuries (for instance, on Hippolytus, Tertullian, Clement of Alexandria, Victorinus, Marcellus of Ancyra, Epiphanius, and perhaps Alexander of Alexandria and Athanasius). As is well known, we no longer possess a Greek manuscript, although it can be proved that the work was preserved down to middle Byzantine times, and was quoted with respect. The insufficient Christological and especially the eschatological disquisitions spoiled the enjoyment of the work in later times (on the Latin Irenæus cf. the exhaustive examination of Loof: "The Manuscripts of the Latin translation of Irenæus", in the "Studies of Church History" dedicated to Reuter, 1887). The old Catholic works written against heretics by Rhodon, Melito, Miltiades, Proculus, Modestus, Musanus, Theophilus, Philip of Gortyna, Hippolytus, and others have all been just as little preserved to us as the oldest book of this kind, the Syntagma of Justin against heresies, and the Memorabilia of Hegesippus. If we consider the criticism to which Tatian's Christology was subjected by Arethas in the 10th century (Oratio 5; see my Texte und Untersuchungen I. 1, 2 p. 95 ff.), and the depreciatory judgment passed on Chiliasm from the 3rd century downwards, and if we moreover reflect that the older polemical works directed against heretics were supplanted by later detailed ones, we have a summary of the reasons for the loss of that oldest Catholic literature. This loss indeed makes it impossible for us to form an exact estimate of the extent and intensity of the effect produced by any individual writing, even including the great work of Irenæus.] [Footnote 482: People are fond of speaking of the "Asia Minor" theology of Irenæus, ascribe it already to his teachers, Polycarp and the presbyters, then ascend from these to the Apostle John, and complete, though not without hesitation, the equation: John--Irenæus. By this speculation they win simply everything, in so far as the Catholic doctrine now appears as the property of an "apostolic" circle, and Gnosticism and Antignosticism are thus eliminated. But the following arguments may be urged against this theory: (1) What we know of Polycarp by no means gives countenance to the supposition that Irenæus learned more from him and his fellows than a pious regard for the Church tradition and a collection of historical traditions and principles. (2) The doctrine of Irenæus cannot be separated from the received _canon_ of New Testament writings; but in the generation before him there was as yet no such compilation. (3) The presbyter from whom Irenæus adopted important lines of thought in the 4th book did not write till after the middle of the second century. (4) Tertullian owes his Christocentric theology, so far as he has such a thing, to Irenæus (and Melito?).] [Footnote 483: Marcion, as is well known, went still further in his depreciatory judgment of the world, and therefore recognised in the redemption through Christ a pure act of grace.] [Footnote 484: See Molwitz, De [Greek: Anakephalaiôseôs] in Irenæi theologia potestate, Dresden, 1874.] [Footnote 485: See, e.g., the Epistle to the Ephesians and also the Epistles to the Romans and Galatians.] [Footnote 486: But see the remark made above, p. 220, note 1. We might without loss give up the half of the Apologies in return for the preservation of Justin's chief Antignostic work.] [Footnote 487: According to the Gnostic Christology Christ merely restores the _status quo ante_, according to that of Irenæus he first and alone realises the hitherto unaccomplished destination of humanity.] [Footnote 488: According to the Gnostic conception the incarnation of the divine, i.e., the fall of _Sophia_, contains, paradoxically expressed, the element of sin; according to Irenæus' idea the element of redemption. Hence we must compare not only the Gnostic Christ, but the Gnostic Sophia, with the Christ of the Church. Irenæus himself did so in II. 20. 3.] [Footnote 489: After tracing in II. 14 the origin of the Gnostic theologoumena to the Greek philosophers Irenæus continues § 7: "Dicemus autem adversus eos: utramne hi omnes qui prædicti sunt, cum quibus eadem dicentes arguimini (Scil. "ye Gnostics with the philosophers"), cognoverunt veritatem aut non cognoverunt? Et si quidem cognoverunt, superflua est salvatoris in hunc mundum descensio. Ut (lege "ad") quid enim descendebat?" It is characteristic of Irenæus not to ask what is new in the revelations of God (through the prophets and the Logos), but quite definitely: "Cur descendit salvator in hunc mundum?" See also lib. III. præf.: "veritas, hoc est dei filii doctrina", III. 10. 3: "Hæc est salutis agnitio quæ deerat eis, quæ est filii del agnitio ... agnitio salutis erat agnitio filii dei, qui et salus et salvator et salutare vere et dicitur et est." III. 11. 3: III. 12. 7: IV. 24.] [Footnote 490: See II. 24. 3, 4: "Non enim ex nobis neque ex nostra natura vita est; sed secundum gratiam dei datur." Cf. what follows. Irenæus has in various places argued that human nature inclusive of the flesh is _capax incorruptibilitatis_, and likewise that immortality is at once a free gift and the realisation of man's destiny.] [Footnote 491: Book V. pref.: "Iesus Christus propter immensam suam dilectionem factus est quod sumus nos, uti nos perficeret esse quod et ipse": III. 6. I: "Deus stetit in synagoga deorum ... de patre et filio et de his, qui adoptionem perceperunt, dicit: hi autem sunt ecclesia. Hæc enim est synagoga dei," etc.; see also what follows III. 16. 3: "Filius dei hominis filius factus, ut per eum adoptionem percipiamus portante homine et capiente et compleciente filium dei." III. 16. 6: "Dei verbum unigenitus, qui semper humano generi adest, unitus et consparsus suo plasmati secundum placitum patris et caro factus, ipse est Iesus Christus dominus noster ... unus Iesus Christus, veniens per universam dispositionem et omnia in semetipsum recapitulans. In omnibus autem est et homo plasmatio dei, et hominem ergo in semetipsum recapitulans est, invisibilis visibilis factus, et incomprehensibilis factus comprehensibilis, et impassibilis passibilis, et verbum homo, universa in semetipsum recapitulans ... in semetipsum primatum assumens,.. universa attrahat ad semetipsum apto in tempore." III. 18. 1: "Quando incarnatus est filius homo et homo factus longam hominum expositionem in se ipso recapitulavit, in compendio nobis salutem præstans, ut quod perdideramus in Adam id est secundum imaginem et similitudinem esse dei, hoc in Christo Iesu reciperemus." Cf. the whole 18th chapter where the deepest thoughts of the Pauline Gnosis of the death on the cross are amalgamated with the Gnosis of the incarnation; see especially 18. 6, 7: "[Greek: Ênôsen oun ton anthrôpon tô Theô. Ei gar mê anthrôpos enikêsen tên antipalon tou anthrôpou, ouk an dikaiôs enikêthê ho echthros. Palin te, ei mê ho Theos edôrêsato tên sôtêrian, ouk an bebaiôs eschomen autên. Kai ei mê sunênôthê ho anthrôpos tô Theô, ouk an êdunêthê metaschein tês aphtharsias. Edei gar ton mesitên Theou te kai anthrôpôn dia tês idias pros hekaterous oikeiotêtos eis philian kai homonoian tous amphoterous sunagôgein; kai Theô men parastêsai ton antrôpon anthrôpois de gnôrisai ton Theon.] Qua enim ratione filiorum adoptionis eius participes esse possemus, nisi per filium eam quæ est ad ipsura recepissemus ab eo communionem, nisi verbum eius communicasset nobis caro factum? Quapropter et per omnem venit ætatem, omnibus restituens eam quæ est ad deum communionem." The Pauline ideas about sin, law, and bondage are incorporated by Irenæus in what follows. The disquisitions in capp. 19-23 are dominated by the same fundamental idea. In cap. 19 Irenæus turns to those who hold Jesus to be a mere man, "perseverantes in servitute pristinæ inobedientiæ moriuntur, nondum commixti verbo dei patris neque per filium percipientes libertatem ... privantur munere eius, quod est vita æsterna: non recipientes autem verbum incorruptionis perseverant in carne mortali, et sunt debitores mortis, antidotum vitæ non accipientes. Ad quos verbum ait, suum munus gratiæ? narrans: [Greek: Egô eipa, huioi hupsistou este pantes kai theoi; humeis de hôs anthrôpoi apothnêskete. Tauta legei pros tous mê dexamenous tên dôrean tês huiothesias, all' atimazontas tên sarkôsin tês katharas gennêseôs tou logou tou Theou ... Eis touto gar ho logos anthrôpos] et qui filius dei est filius hominis factus est, [Greek: hina ho anthrôpos ton logon chôrêsas kai tên huiothesian labôn huios genêtai Theou]. Non enim poteramus aliter incorruptelam et immortalitatem percipere, nisi adunati fuissemus incorruptelæ et immortalitati. Quemadmodum autem adunari possumus incorruptelæ et immortalitati, nisi prius incorruptela et immortalitas facta fuisset id quod et nos, ut absorbet*etur quod erat corruptibile ab incorruptela et quod erat mortale ab immortalitate, ut filiorum adoptionem perciperemus?" III. 21. 10: [Greek: Ei toinun ho prôtos Adam esche patera anthrôpon kai ek spermatos egennêthê, eikos ên kai deuteron Adam legein ex Iôsêph gegennêsthai. Ei de ekeinos ek gês elêphthê, plastês de autou ho Theos, edei kai ton anakephalaioumenon eis auton hupo tou Theou peplasmenon anthrôpon tên autên ekeinô tês gennêseôs echein homoiotêta. Eis ti oun palin ouk elabe choun ho Theos, all' ek Marias enêrgêse tên plasin genesthai. Hina mê allê plasis genêtai mêde allo to sôzomenon ê, all' autos ekeinos anakephalaiôthê têroumenês tês homoiotêtos]; III. 23. 1: IV. 38: V. 36: IV. 20: V. 16, 19-21, 22. In working out this thought Irenæus verges here and there on soteriological naturalism (see especially the disquisitions regarding the salvation of Adam, opposed to Tatian's views, in III. 23). But he does not fall into this for two reasons. In the first place, as regards the history, of Jesus, he has been taught by Paul not to stop at the incarnation, but to view the work of salvation as only completed by the sufferings and death of Christ (See II. 20. 3: "dominus per passionem mortem destruxit et solvit errorem corruptionemque exterminavit, et ignorantiam destruxit, vitam autem manifestavit et ostendit veritatem et incorruptionem donavit"; III. 16. 9: III. 18. 1-7 and many other passages), that is, to regard Christ as having performed a _work_. Secondly, alongside of the deification of Adam's children, viewed as a mechanical result of the incarnation, he placed the other (apologetic) thought, viz., that Christ, as the teacher, imparts complete knowledge, that he has restored, i.e., strengthened the freedom of man, and that redemption (by which he means fellowship with God) therefore takes place only in the case of those children of Adam that acknowledge the truth proclaimed by Christ and imitate the Redeemer in a holy life (V. 1. 1.: "Non enim aliter nos discere poteramus quæ sunt dei, nisi magister noster, verbum exsistens, homo factus fuisset. Neque enim alias poterat enarrare nobis, quæ sunt patris, nisi proprium ipsius verbum ... Neque rursus nos aliter discere poteramus, nisi magistrum nostrum videntes et per auditum nostrum vocem eius percipientes, ut imitatores quidem operum, factores autem sermonum eius facti, communionem habeamus cum ipso", and many other passages). We find a combined formula in III. 5. 3: "Christus libertatem hominibus restauravit et attribuit incorruptelæ hæreditatem."] [Footnote 492: Theophilus also did not see further, see Wendt, l.c., 17 ff.] [Footnote 493: Melito's teaching must have been similar. In a fragment attributed to him (see my Texte und Untersuchungen I. 1, 2 p. 255 ff.) we even find the expression "[Greek: hai duo ousiai Christou]". The genuineness of the fragment is indeed disputed, but, as I think, without grounds. It is certainly remarkable that the formula is not found in Irenæus (see details below). The first Syriac fragment (Otto IX. p. 419) shows that Melito also views redemption as reunion through Christ.] [Footnote 494: The conception of the stage by stage development of the economy of God and the corresponding idea of "several covenants" (I. 10. 3: III. 11-15 and elsewhere) denote a very considerable advance, which the Church teachers owe to the controversy with Gnosticism, or to the example of the Gnostics. In this case the origin of the idea is quite plain. For details see below.] [Footnote 495: It would seem from some passages as if faith and theological knowledge were according to Irenæus simply related as the "is" and the "why." As a matter of fact, he did express himself so without being really able to maintain the relationship thus fixed; for faith itself must also to some extent include a knowledge of the reason and aim of God's ways of salvation. Faith and theological knowledge are therefore, after all, closely interwoven with each other. Irenæus merely sought for a clear distinction, but it was impossible for him to find it in his way. The truth rather is that the same man, who, in opposition to heresy, condemned an exaggerated estimate of theoretical knowledge, contributed a great deal to the transformation of that faith into a monistic speculation.] [Footnote 496: See 1. 10. 2: [Greek: Kai oute ho panu dunatos en logô tôn en tais ekklêsiais proestôtôn toutôn] (scil. than the regula sidei) [Greek: epei oudeis gar uper ton didaskalon oute ho asthenês en tô logô elattôsei tên paradosin. Mias gar kai tês autês pisteôs ousês oute ho polu peri autês dunamenos eipein epleonasen, oute ho to oligon êlattonêse].] [Footnote 497: See Bohringer's careful reviews of the theology of Irenæus and Tertullian (Kirchengeschichte in Biographien, Vol. I. 1st section, 1st half (2nd ed.), pp. 378-612, 2nd half, pp. 484-739).] [Footnote 498: To the proof from prescription belong the arguments derived from the novelty and contradictory multiplicity of the Gnostic doctrines as well as the proofs that Greek philosophy is the original source of heresy. See Iren. II. 14. 1-6; Tertull. de præscr. 7; Apolog. 47 and other places; the Philosophoumena of Hippolytus. On Irenæus' criticism of Gnostic theology see Kunze, Gotteslehre des Irenäus, Leipzig, 1891. p. 8 ff.] [Footnote 499: See Irenæus II. 1. 2-4: II. 31. 1. Tertull., adv. Marc. I. 2-7. Tertullian proves that there can be neither two morally similar, nor two morally dissimilar Deities; see also I. 15.] [Footnote 500: See Irenæus II. 13. Tertullian (ad Valent. 4) very appropriately defined the æons of Ptolemy as "personales substantias extra deum determinatas, quas Valentinus in ipsa summa divinitatis ut sensus et affectus motus incluserat."] [Footnote 501: See Irenæus, l.c., and elsewhere in the 2nd Book, Tertull. adv. Valent. in several passages. Moreover, Irenæus still treated the first 8 Ptolemaic æons with more respect than the 22 following, because here at least there was some appearance of a Biblical foundation. In confuting the doctrine of æons he incidentally raised several questions (II. 17. 2), which Church theologians discussed in later times, with reference to the Son and Spirit. "Quæritur quemadmodum emissi sunt reliqui æones? Utrum uniti ei qui emiserit, quemadmodum a sole radii, an efficabiliter et partiliter, uti sit unusquisque eorum separatim et suam figurationem habens, quemadmodum ab homine homo ... Aut secundum germinationem, quemabmodum ab arbore rami? Et utrum eiusdem substantiæ exsistebant his qui se emiserunt, an ex altera quadam substantia substantiam habentes? Et utrum in eodem emissi sunt, ut eiusdem temporis essent sibi?... Et utrum simplices quidam et uniformes et undique sibi æquales et similes, quemadmodum spiritus et lumina emissa sunt, an compositi et differentes"? See also II. 17. 4: "Si autem velut a lumine lumina accensa sunt... velut verbi gratia a facula faculæ, generatione quidem et magnitudine fortasse distabunt ab invicem; eiusdem autem substantive cum sint cum principe emissionis ipsorum, aut omnes impassibiles perseverant aut et pater ipsorum participabit passiones. Neque enim quæ postea accensa est facula, alterum lumen habebit quam illud quod ante eam fuit." Here we have already a statement of the logical reasons, which in later times were urged against the Arian doctrine.] [Footnote 502: See Iren. II. 17. 5 and II. 18.] [Footnote 503: See Iren. II. 4. 2.] [Footnote 504: Tertullian in particular argued in great detail (adv. Marc. I. 9-19) that every God must, above all, have revealed himself as a creator. In opposition to Marcion's rejection of all natural theology, he represents this science as the foundation of all religious belief. In this connection he eulogised the created world (I. 13) and at the same time (see also the 2nd Book) argued in favour of the Demiurge, i.e., of the one true God. Irenæus urged a series of acute and weighty objections to the cosmogony of the Valentinians (see II. 1-5), and showed how untenable was the idea of the Demiurge as an intermediate being. The doctrines that the Supreme Being is unknown (II. 6), that the Demiurge is the blind instrument of higher æons, that the world was created against the will of the Supreme God, and, lastly, that our world is the imperfect copy of a higher one were also opposed by him with rational arguments. His refutation of the last conception is specially remarkable (II. 7). On the idea that God did not create the world from eternal matter see Tertull., adv. Hermog.] [Footnote 505: But this very method of argument was without doubt specially impressive in the case of the educated, and it is these alone of whom we are here speaking. On the decay of Gnosticism after the end of the 2nd century, see Renan, Origines, Vol. VII., p. 113 ff.] [Footnote 506: See his arguments that the Gnostics merely _assert_ that they have only one Christ, whereas they actually possess several, III. 16. 1, 8 and elsewhere.] [Footnote 507: See Iren., I. 9 and elsewhere; Tertull., de præscr. 39, adv. Valent. passim.] [Footnote 508: See Tertull., adv. Marc. II. 19, 21, 22: III. 5, 6, 14, 19: V. 1.; Orig. Comm. in Matth., T. XV. 3, Opp. III., p. 655: Comm. in ep. ad Rom., T. II. 12. Opp. IV., p. 494 sq.; Pseudo-Orig. Adamantius, De recta in deum fide; Orig. I. pp. 808, 817.] [Footnote 509: For this reason Tertullian altogether forbade exegetic disputes with the Gnostics, see de præscr. 16-19: "Ego non ad scripturas provocandum est nec in his constituendum certamen, in quibus aut milla aut incerta victoria est aut parum certa."] [Footnote 510: See Iren., III. 5. 1: III. 12. 6.] [Footnote 511: See Iren., III. 14. 2: III. 15. 1; Tertull., de præscr. 25: "Scripturæ quidem perfectæ sunt, quippe a verbo dei et spiritu eius dictæ, nos autem secundum quod minores sumus et novissimi a verbo dei et spiritu eius, secundum hoc et scientia niysteriorum eius indigenus."] [Footnote 512: See Iren. II. 35. 2: IV. 34, 35 and elsewhere. Irenæus also asserted that the translation of the Septuagint (III. 21. 4) was inspired. The repudiation of different kinds of inspiration in the Scriptures likewise involved the rejection of all the critical views of the Gnostics that were concealed behind that assumption. The Alexandrians were the first who again to some extent adopted these critical principles.] [Footnote 513: See Iren. II. 10. 1: II. 27. 1, 2.] [Footnote 514: See Iren. II. 25. I.] [Footnote 515: Irenæus appropriates the words of an Asia Minor presbyter when he says (IV. 31. 1): "De his quidem delictis, de quibus ipsæ scripturæ increpant patriarchas et prophetas, nos non oportere exprobare eis ... de quibus autem scripturæ non inciepant (scil. delictis), sed simpliciter sunt positæ, nos non debere fieri accusatores, sed typum quærere."] [Footnote 516: See, e.g., IV. 20. 12 where he declares the three spies whom Rahab entertained to be Father, Son. and Spirit.] [Footnote 517: See Iren. IV. 22. 1.] [Footnote 518: See Iren. III. 17. 3.] [Footnote 519: Justin had already noted certain peculiarities of the Holy Scriptures as distinguished from profane writings. Tertullian speaks of two _proprietates iudaicæ literaturæ_ in adv. Marc. III. 5. 6. But the Alexandrians were the first to propound any kind of complete theories of inspiration.] [Footnote 520: See above p. 233, note 2, Kunze, l.c.] [Footnote 521: See Iren, II. 26. 1, 13. 4: "Sic et in reliquis omnibus nulli similis erit omnium pater hominum pusillitati: et dicitur quidem secundum hæc propter delectionem, sentitur autem super hæc secundum magnitudinem." Irenæus expressly says that God cannot be known as regards his greatness, i.e. absolutely, but that he can be known as regards his love, IV. 20. 1: "Igitur secundum magnitudem non est cognoscere deum, impossibile est enim mensurari patrem; secundum autem dilectionem eius--hæc est enim quæ nos per verbum eius perducit ad deum--obedientes ei semper discimus quoniam est tantus deus etc."; in IV. 20. 4 the knowledge of God "secundum dilectionem" is more closely defined by the words "per verbum eius Iesum Christum." The statements in §§ 5 and 6 are, however, specially important: they who are pure in heart will see God. God's omnipotence and goodness remove the impossibility of man knowing him. Man comes to know him gradually, in proportion as he is revealed and through love, until he beholds him in a state of perfection. He must be in God in order to know God: [Greek: hôsper hoi blepontes to phôs entos eisi tou phôtos kai tês lamprotêtos autou metechousin, houtôs hoi blepontes ton Theon entos eisi tou Theou, metechontes autou tês lamprotêtos. Kai dia touto ho achôrêtos kai akatalêptos kai aoratos horômenon heauton ... tois pistois pareschen, hina zôopoiêsê tous chôrountas kai blepontas auton dia pisteôs]. See also what follows down to the words: [Greek: metochê Theou esti to ginôskein Theon kai apolauein tês chrêstotêtos autou], et homines igitur videbunt deum, ut vivant, per visionem immortales facti et pertingentes usque in deum. Sentences of this kind where rationalism is neutralised by mysticism we seek for in Tertullian in vain.] [Footnote 522: See Iren., IV. 6. 4: [Greek: Edidaxen hêmas ho kurios, hoti Theon eidenai oudeis dunatai, mê ouchi Theou didaxantos, toutestin, aneu Theou mê ginôskesthai ton Theon; auto de to ginôskesthai ton Theon thelêma einai tou patros, Gnôsontai gar auton hois an apokalupsê ho huios].] [Footnote 523: Iren. II. 6. 1, 9. 1, 27. 2: III. 25. 1: "Providentiam habet deus omnium propter hoc et consilium dat: consilium autem dans adest his, qui morum providentiam habent. Necesse est igitur ea quæ providentur et gubernantur cognoscere suum directorem; quæ quidem non sunt irrationalia neque vana, sed habent sensibilitatem perceptam de providentia dei. Et propter hoc ethnicorum quidam, qui minus illecebris ac voluptatibus servierunt, et non in tantum superstitione idolorum coabducti sunt, providentia eius moti licet tenuiter, tamen conversi sunt, ut dicererit fabricatorem huiuss universitatis patrem omnium providentem et disponentem secundum nos mundum." Tertull., de testim. animæ; Apolog. 17.] [Footnote 524: See Iren., IV. 6. 2; Tertull., adv. Marc. I, II.] [Footnote 525: See Iren., V. 26. 2.] [Footnote 526: See Iren., II. 1. I and the Hymn II. 30. 9.] [Footnote 527: See Iren., III. 8. 3. Very pregnant are Irenæus' utterances in II. 34. 4 and II. 30. 9: "Principari enim debet in omnibus et dominari voluntas dei, reliqua autem omnia huic cedere et subdita esse et in servitium dedita" ... "substantia omnium voluntas dei;" see also the fragment V. in Harvey, Iren., Opp. II. p. 477 sq. Because everything originates with God and the existence of eternal metaphysical contrasts is therefore impossible the following proposition (IV. 2, 4), which is proved from the parable of the rich man and Lazarus, holds, good: "ex una substantia esse omnia, id est Abraham et Moysem et prophetas, etiam ipsum dominum."] [Footnote 528: See Iren. II. 28. 4, 5: IV. 11. 2.] [Footnote 529: Tertullian also makes the same demand (e.g. adv. Marc. II. 27); for his assertion "deum corpus esse" (adv. Prax. 7: "Quis enim negabil, deum corpus esse, etsi deus spiritus est? spiritus enim corpus sui generis in sua effigie") must be compared with his realistic doctrine of the soul (de anima 6) as well as with the proposition formulated in de carne 11: "omne quod est, corpus est sui generis; nihil est incorporale, nisi quod non est." Tertullian here followed a principle of Stoic philosophy, and in this case by no means wished to teach that the Deity has a human form, since he recognised that man's likeness to God consists merely in his spiritual qualities. On the contrary _Melito_ ascribed to God a corporeal existence of a higher type (Eusebius mentions a work of this bishop under the title "[Greek: ho peri ensômatou Theou logos],") and Origen reckoned him among the teachers who recognised that man had also a likeness to God in form (in body); see my Texte und Untersuchungen I. 1. 2, pp. 243, 248. In the second century the realistic eschatological ideas no doubt continued to foster in wide circles the popular idea that God had a form and a kind of corporeal existence. A middle position between these ideas and that of Tertullian and the Stoics seems to have been taken up by Lactantius (_Instit. div._ VII. 9, 21; de ira dei 2. 18.).] [Footnote 530: See Iren., III. 25. 2; Tertull., adv. Marc. I. 23-28: II. 11 sq. Hippolytus briefly defined his doctrine of God in Phil. X. 32. The advance beyond the Apologists' idea of God consists not only in the thorough discussion of God's attributes of goodness and righteousness, but also in the view, which is now much more vigorously worked out, that the Almighty Creator has no other purpose in his world than the salvation of mankind. See the 10th Greek fragment of Irenæus (Harvey, II. p. 480); Tertull., de orat. 4: "Summa est voluntatis dei salus eorum, quos adoptavit"; de paenit. 2: "Bonorum dei unus est titulus, salus hominum"; adv. Marc. II. 27: "Nihil tam dignum deo quam salus hominis." They had here undeniably learned from Marcion; see adv. Marc. I. 17. In the first chapters of the work de orat., however, in which Tertullian expounds the Lord's Prayer, he succeeded in unfolding the meaning of the Gospel in a way such as was never possible for him elsewhere. The like remark may be made of Origen's work de orat., and, in general, in the case of most authors who interpreted the Lord's Prayer in the succeeding period. This prayer kept alive the knowledge of the deepest meaning of the Gospel.] [Footnote 531: Apol. 21: "Necesse et igitur pauca de Christo ut deo ... Jam ediximus deum universitatem hanc mundi verbo et ratione et virtute molitum. Apud vestros quoque sapientes [Greek: Logon], id est sermonem et rationem, constat artificem videri universitatis." (An appeal to Zeno and Cleanthes follows). "Et nos autem sermoni atque rationi itemque virtuti, per quæ omnia molitum deum ediximus, propriam substantiam spiritum inscribimus, cui et sermo insit pronuntianti et ratio adsit disponenti et virtus præsit perficienti. Hunc ex deo prolatum didicimus et prolatione generatum et idcirco filium dei et deum dictum ex unitate substantiæ, nam et deus spiritus (that is, the antemundane Logos is the Son of God). Et cum radius ex sole porrigitur, portio ex summa; sed sol erit in radio, quia solis est radius nec separatur substantia sed extenditur (cf. adv. Prax. 8). Ita de spiritu spiritus et deo deus ut lumen de lumine accensum. Manet integra et indefecta materiæ matrix, etsi plures inde traduces qualitatis mutueris: ita et quod de deo profectum est, deus est et dei filius et unus ambo. Ita et de spiritu spiritus et de deo deus modulo alternum numerum, gradu non statu fecit, et a matrice non necessit sed excessit. Iste igitur dei radius, ut retro semper prædicabatur, delapsus in virginem quandam et in utero eius caro figuratus nascitur homo deo mixtus. Caro spiritu instructa nutritur, adolescit, adfatur, docet, operatur et Christus est." Tertullian adds: "Recipite interim hanc fabulam, similis est vestris." As a matter of fact the heathen must have viewed this statement as a philosophical speculation with a mythological conclusion. It is very instructive to ascertain that in Hippolytus' book against Noëtus "the setting forth of the truth" (c. 10 ff.) he begins with the proposition: [Greek: Theos eboulêthê kosmon ktisai]. The Logos whose essence and working are described merely went forth to realise this intention.] [Footnote 532: See Hagemann, Die römische Kirche (1864), p. 172 ff.] [Footnote 533: See my detailed exposition of the _orthodox_ side of Tertullian's doctrine of the Trinity ("orthodox" in the later sense of the word), in Vol. IV. There it is also shown that these formulæ were due to Tertullian's _juristic_ bias. The formulæ, "una _substantia_, tres _personæ_", never alternates in his case with the others, "una _natura_, tres _personæ_"; and so it remained for a long time in the West; they did not speak of "natures" but of "substances" ("nature" in this connection is very rare down to the 5th century). What makes this remarkable is the fact that Tertullian always uses "substance" in the concrete sense "individual substance" and has even expressed himself precisely on the point. He says in de anima 32: "aliud est substantia, aliud natura substantiæ; siquidem substantia propria est rei cuiusque, natura vero potest esse communis. Suscipe exemplum: substantia est lapis, ferrum; duritia lapidis et ferri natura substantiæ est. Duritia (natura) communicat, substantia discordat. Mollitia lanæ, mollitia plumæ pariant naturalia eorum, substantiva non pariant ... Et tune naturæ similitudo notatur, cum substantiæ dissimilitudo conspicitur. Men and animals are similar _natura_, but not _substantia_." We see that Tertullian in so far as he designated Father, Son, and Spirit as one substance expressed their _unity_ as strongly as possible. The only idea intelligible to the majority was a juristic and political notion, viz., that the Father, who is the _tota substantia_, sends forth officials whom he entrusts with the administration of the monarchy. The legal fiction attached to the concept "person" aided in the matter here.] [Footnote 534: See adv. Prax. 3: "Igitur si et monarchia divina per tot legiones et exercitus angelorum administratur, sicut scriptum est: Milies centies centena milia adsistebant ei, et milies centena milia apparebant ei, nec ideo unius esse desiit, ut desinat monarchia esse, quia per tanta milia virtutum procuratur: quale est ut deus divisionem et dispersionem pati videatur in filio et spiritu sancto, secundum et tertium sortitis locum, tam consortibus substantiæ patris, quam non patitur in tot angelorum numero?" (!!) c. 4: "Videmus igitur non obesse monarchiæ filium, etsi hodie apud filium est, quia et in suo statu est apud filium, et cum suo statu restituetur patri a filio." L.c.: "Monarchia in tot nominibus constituta est, in quot deus voluit."] [Footnote 535: See Hippol., c. Noetum II. According to these doctrines the unity is sufficiently preserved (1) if the separate persons have one and the same substance, (2) if there is one possessor of the whole substance, _i.e._, if everything proceeds from him. That this is a remnant of polytheism ought not to be disputed.] [Footnote 536: Adv. Prax. 8: "Hoc si qui putaverit, me [Greek: probolên] aliquam introducere id est prolationem rei alterius ex altera, quod facit Valentinus, primo quidem dicam tibi, non ideo non utatur et veritas vocabulo isto et re ac censu eius, quia et hæresis utitur; immo hæresis potius ex veritate accepit quod ad mendacium suum strueret"; cf. also what follows. Thus far then theologians had got already: "The economy is founded on as many names as God willed" (c. 4).] [Footnote 537: See adv. Prax. 5.] [Footnote 538: Tertull., adv. Hermog. 3: "fuit tempus, cum ei filius non fuit."] [Footnote 539: Novatian (de trin. 23) distinguishes very decidedly between "factum esse" and "procedere".] [Footnote 540: Adv. Prax. 2: "Custodiatur [Greek: oikonomias] sacramentum, quæ unitatem in trinitatem disponit, tres dirigens, tres autem non statu, sed gradu, nec substantia, sed forma, nec potestate, sed specie, unius autem substantiæ et unius status et potestatis."] [Footnote 541: See the discussions adv. Prax. 16 ff.] [Footnote 542: Tertull., adv. Marc. III. 6: "filius portio plenitudinis." In another passage Tertullian has ironically remarked in opposition to Marcion (IV. 39): "Nisi Marcion Christum non subiectum patri infert."] [Footnote 543: Adv. Prax. 9.] [Footnote 544: See the whole 14th chap. adv. Prax. especially the words: "I am ergo alius erit qui videbatur, quia non potest idem invisibilis definiri qui videbatur, et consequens erit, ut invisibilem patrem intellegamus pro plenitudine maiestatis, visibilem vero filium agnoscamus pro modulo derivationis." One cannot look at the sun itself, but, "toleramus radium eius pro temperatura portionis, quæ in terram inde porrigitur." The chapter also shows how the Old Testament theophanies must have given an impetus to the distinction between the Deity as transcendent and the Deity as making himself visible. Adv. Marc. II. 27: "Quæcunque exigitis deo digna, habebuntur in patre invisibili incongressibilique et placido et, ut ita dixerim, philosophorum deo. Quæcunque autem ut indigna reprehenditis, deputabuntur in filio et viso et audito et congresso, arbitro patris et ministro, miscente in semetipso hominem et deum in virtutibus deum, in pusillitatibus hominem, ut tantum homini conferat quantum deo detrahit." In adv. Prax. 29 Tertullian showed in very precise terms that the Father is by nature impassible, but the Son is capable of suffering. Hippolytus does not share this opinion; to him the Logos in himself is likewise [Greek: apathês] (see c. Noetum 15).] [Footnote 545: According to Tertullian it is certainly an _essential part of the Son's nature_ to appear, teach, and thus come into connection with men; but he neither asserted the necessity of the incarnation apart from the faulty development of mankind, nor can this view be inferred from his premises.] [Footnote 546: See adv. Prax. 4. the only passage, however, containing this idea, which is derived from 1 Cor. XV.] [Footnote 547: Cf. specially the attempts of Plotinus to reconcile the abstract unity which is conceived as the principle of the universe with the manifoldness and fulness of the real and the particular (Ennead. lib. III.-V.). Plotinus employs the subsidiary notion [Greek: merismos] in the same way as Tertullian; see Hagemann l.c. p. 186 f. Plotinus would have agreed with Tertullian's proposition in adv. Marc. III. 15: "Dei nomen quasi naturale divinitatis potest in omnes communicari quibus divinitas vindicatur." Plotinus' idea of hypostasis is also important, and this notion requires exact examination.] [Footnote 548: Following the baptismal confession, Tertullian merely treated the Holy Ghost according to the scheme of the Logos doctrine without any trace of independent interest. In accordance with this, however, the Spirit possesses his own "numerus"--"tertium numen divinitatis et tertium nomen maiestatis",--and he is a person in the same sense as the Son, to whom, however, he is subordinate, for the subordination is a necessary result of his later origin. See cc. 2, 8: "tertius est spiritus a deo et filio, sicut tertius a radice fructus a frutice, et tertius a fonte rivus a flumine et tertius a sole apex ex radio. Nihil tamen a matrice alienatur a qua proprietates suas ducit. Ita trinitas per consertos et connexos gradus a patre decurrens et monarchiæ nihil obstrepit et [Greek: oikonomias] statum protegit"; de pudic. 21. In de præscr. 13 the Spirit in relation to the Son is called "vicaria vis". The element of personality in the Spirit is with Tertullian merely a result arising from logical deduction; see his successor Novatian de trin. 29. Hippolytus did not attribute personality to the Spirit, for he says (adv. Noet. 14): [Greek: Hena Theon erô, prosôpa de duo, oikonomia de tritên tên charin tou hagiou pneumatos; patêr men gar eis, prosôpa de duo, hoti kai ho huios, to de triton to hagion pneuma]. In his Logos doctrine apart from the express emphasis he lays on the creatureliness of the Logos (see Philos. X. 33: [Greek: Ei gar Theon se êthelêse poiêsai ho Theos, edunato; echeis tou logou to paradeigma]) he quite agrees with Tertullian. See ibid.; here the Logos is called before his coming forth "[Greek: endiathetos tou pantos logismos]"; he is produced [Greek: ek tôn ontôn], i.e., from the Father who then alone existed; his essence is "that he bears in himself the will of him who has begotten him" or "that he comprehends in himself the ideas previously conceived by and resting in the Father." Cyprian in no part of his writings took occasion to set forth the Logos doctrine in a didactic way; he simply kept to the formula: "Christus deus et homo", and to the Biblical expressions which were understood in the sense of divinity and preëxistence; see Testim. II. 1-10. Lactantius was still quite confused in his Trinitarian doctrine and, in particular, conceived the Holy Ghost not as a person but as "sanctificatio" proceeding from the Father or from the Son. On the contrary, Novatian, in his work _de trinitate_ reproduced Tertullian's views. For details see Dorner Entwickelungsgeschichte I. pp. 563-634, Kahnis, Lehre vom heiligen Geiste; Hagemann, l.c., p. 371 ff. It is noteworthy that Tertullian still very frequently called the preëxistent Christ _dei spiritus_; see de oral. I: "Dei spiritus et dei sermo et dei ratio, sermo rationis et ratio sermonis et spiritus, utrumque Iesus Christus." Apol. 21: adv. Prax. 26; adv. Marc. I. 10: III. 6, 16: IV. 21.] [Footnote 549: See Zahn, Marcellus of Ancyra, pp. 235-244. Duncker, Des heiligen Irenaus Christologie, 1843.] [Footnote 550: Zahn, l.c., p. 238.] [Footnote 551: See Iren., II. 13. 8: II. 28. 4-9: II. 12. 2: II. 13. 2, and also the important passage II. 29. 3 fin.] [Footnote 552: A great many passages clearly show that Irenæus decidedly distinguished the Son from the Father, so that it is absolutely incorrect to attribute modalistic ideas to him. See III. 6. 1 and all the other passages where Irenæus refers to the Old Testament theophanies. Such are III. 6. 2: IV. 5. 2 fin.: IV. 7. 4, where the distinction is particularly plain: IV. 17. 6: II. 28. 6.] [Footnote 553: The Logos (Son) is the administrator and bestower of the divine grace as regards humanity, because he is the revealer of this grace, see IV. 6 (§ 7: "agnitio patris filius, agnitio autem filii in patre et per filium revelata"): IV. 5: IV. 16. 7: IV. 20. 7. He has been the revealer of God from the beginning and always remains so, III. 16. 6: IV. 13. 4 etc.: he is the antemundane revealer to the angel world, see II. 30. 9: "semper autem coëxsistens filius patri, olim et ab initio semper revelat patrem et angelis et archangelis et potestatibus et virtutibus et omnibus, quibus vult revelari deus;" he has always existed with the Father, see II. 30. 9: III. 18. 1: "non tunc coepit filius dei, exsistens semper apud patrem"; IV. 20. 3, 7, 14. 1: II. 25. 3: "non enim infectus es, o homo, neque semper coëxsistebas deo, sicut proprium eius verbum." The Logos is God as God, nay, for us he is God himself, in so far as his work is the work of God. Thus, and not in a modalistic sense, we must understand passages like II. 30. 9: "fabricator qui fecit mundum per semitipsum, hoc est per verbum et per sapientiam suam," or hymnlike statements such as III. 16. 6: "et hominem ergo in semetipsum recapitulans est, invisibilis visibilis factus, et incomprehensibilis factus comprehensibilis et impassibilis passibilis et verbum homo" (see something similar in Ignatius and Melito, Otto, Corp. Apolog. IX, p. 419 sq.). Irenæus also says in III. 6. 2: "filius est in patre et habet in se patrem," III. 6. 1.: "utrosque dei appellatione signavit spiritus, et eum qui ungitur filium et eum, qui ungit, id est patrem." He not only says that the Son has revealed the Father, but that the Father has revealed the Son (IV. 6. 3: IV. 7. 7). He applies Old Testament passages sometimes to Christ, sometimes to God, and hence in some cases calls the Father the creator, and in others the Son ("pater generis humani verbum dei", IV. 31. 2). Irenæus (IV. 4. 2) appropriated the expression of an ancient "immensum patrem in filio mensuratum; mensura enim patris filius, quoniam et capit eum." This expression is by no means intended to denote a diminution, but rather to signify the identity of Father and Son. In all this Irenæus adhered to an ancient tradition; but these propositions do not admit of being incorporated with a rational system.] [Footnote 554: Logos and Sophia are the hands of God (III. 21. 10: IV. 20): also IV. 6. 6: "Invisibile filii pater, visibile autem patris filius." Judging from this passage, it is always doubtful whether Irenæus, like Tertullian, assumed that transcendency belonged to the Father in a still higher sense than to the Son, and that the nature of the Son was more adapted for entering the finite than that of the Father (on the contrary see IV. 20. 7 and especially IV. 24. 2: "verbum naturaliter quidem invisibile"). But it ought not to have been denied that there are passages, in which Irenæus hints at a subordination of the Son, and deduces this from his origin. See II. 28. 8 (the knowledge of the Father reaches further than that of the Son and the Father is greater than the Son); III. 6. 1 (the Son _receives_ from the Father the sovereignty); IV. 17. 6 (a very important passage: the Father owns the name of Jesus Christ as his, first, because it is the name of his Son, and, secondly, because he gave it himself); V. 18. 21, 3 ("pater conditionem simul et verbum suum portans"--"verbum portatum a patre"--"et sic unus deus pater ostenditur, qui est super omnia et per omnia et in omnibus; super omnia pater quidem et ipse est caput Christi"--"verbum universorum potestatem habet a patre"). "This is not a subordination founded on the nature of the second person, but an inequality that has arisen historically," says Zahn (l.c., p. 241); but it is doubtful whether such a distinction can be imputed to Irenæus. We have rather simply to recognise the contradiction, which was not felt by Irenæus because, in his religious belief, he places Christ on a level with God, but, as a theologian, merely touched on the problem. So also he shows remarkable unconcern as to the proof of the unity of God in view of the distinction between Father and Son.] [Footnote 555: Irenæus very frequently emphasises the idea that the whole economy of God refers to mankind, see, e.g., I. 10. 3: [Greek: ekdiêgeisthai tên pragmateian kai oikonomian tou Theou tên epi tê anthrôpotêti genomenên], IV, 20. 7: "Verbum dispensator paternæ gratiæ factus est ad utilitatem hominum, propter quos fecit tantas dispositiones." God became a creator out of goodness and love; see the beautiful expression in IV. 20. 7: "Gloria dei vivens homo, vita autem hominis visio dei," or III. 20. 2: "Gloria hominis deus, operationes vero dei et omnis sapientias eius et virtutis receptaculum homo." V. 29. 1: "Non homo propter conditionem, sed conditio facta est propter hominem."] [Footnote 556: Irenæus speaks about the Holy Spirit in numerous passages. No doubt he firmly believes in the distinction of the Spirit (Holy Spirit, Spirit of God, Spirit of the Father, Spirit of the Son, prophetic Spirit, Wisdom) from the Father and Son, and in a particular significance belonging to the Spirit, as these doctrines are found in the _regula_. In general the same attributes as are assigned to the Son are everywhere applicable to him; he was always with the Father before there was any creation (IV. 20. 3; Irenæus applies Prov. III. 19: VIII. 22 to the Spirit and not to the Son); like the Son he was the instrument and hand of the Father (IV. pref. 4, 20. 1: V. 6. 1.). That Logos and Wisdom are to be distinguished is clear from IV. 20. 1-12 and particularly from § 12: IV. 7. 4: III. 17. 3 (the host in the parable of the Good Samaritan is the Spirit). Irenæus also tried by reference to Scripture to distinguish the work of the Spirit from that of the Logos. Thus in the creation, the guidance of the world, the Old Testament history, the incarnation, the baptism of Jesus, the Logos is the energy, the Spirit is wisdom. He also alluded to a specific ministry of the Spirit in the sphere of the new covenant. The Spirit is the principle of the new knowledge in IV. 33. 1, 7, Spirit of fellowship with God in V. I. 1, pledge of immortality in V. 8. 1, Spirit of life in V. 18. 2. But not only does the function of the Spirit remain very obscure for all that, particularly in the incarnation, where Irenæus was forced by the canon of the New Testament to unite what could not be united (Logos doctrine and descent of the Spirit upon Mary--where, moreover, the whole of the Fathers after Irenæus launched forth into the most wonderful speculations), but even the personality of the Spirit vanishes with him, e.g., in III. 18. 3: "unguentem patrem et unctum filium et unctionem, qui est spiritus" (on Isaiah LXI. 1); there is also no mention of the Spirit in IV. pref. 4 fin., and IV. 1. 1, though he ought to have been named there. Father, Son, and Spirit, or God, Logos, and Sophia are frequently conjoined by Irenæus, but he never uses the formula [Greek: trias], to say nothing of the abstract formulas of Tertullian. In two passages (IV. 20. 5: V. 36. 2) Irenæus unfolded a sublime speculation, which is inconsistent with his usual utterances. In the first passage he says that God has shown himself prophetically through the Spirit (in the Old Testament), then adoptively through the Son, and will finally show himself paternally in the kingdom of heaven; the Spirit prepares man for the Son of God, the Son leads him to the Father, but the Father confers on him immortality. In the other passage he adopts the saying of an old presbyter (Papias?) that we ascend gradually through the Spirit to the Son, and through the Son to the Father, and that in the end the Son will deliver up everything to the Father, and God will be all in all. It is remarkable that, as in the case of Tertullian (see above), it is 1 Cor. XV. 23-28 that has produced this speculation. This is another clear proof, that in Irenæus the equality of Father, Son, and Spirit is not unconditional and that the eternity of Son and Spirit is not absolute. Here also we plainly perceive that the several disquisitions in Irenæus were by no means part of a complete system. Thus, in IV. 38. 2, he inverts the relationship and says that we ascend from the Son to the Spirit: [Greek: Kai dia touto Paulos Korinthiois phêsi: gala humas epotisa, ou Brôma, oude gar êdunasthe bastazein; toutesti, tên men kata anthrôpon parousian tou kuriou emathêteuthête, oudêpou de to tou patros pneuma epanapauetai eph' humas dia tên humôn astheneian]. Here one of Origen's thoughts appears.] [Footnote 557: The opinions advanced here are, of course, adumbrations of the ideas about redemption. Noldechen (Zeitschrift fur wissenschaftliche Theologie, 1885, p. 462 ff): "Die Lehre vom ersten Menschen bei den christlichen Lehrern des 2 Jahrhunderts."] [Footnote 558: Here the whole 38th chapter of the 4th Book is to be examined. The following sentences are perhaps the most important: [Greek: Ei de legei tis ouk êdunato ho Theos ap' archês teleion anadeixai ton anthrôpon, Gnôtô, hoti tô men Theô, aei kata ta auta onti kai agennêtô huparchonti, hôs pros heauton, panta dunata; ta de gegonta, katho metepeita geneseôs archên idian esche, kata touto kai hustereisthai dei auta tou pepoiêkotos; ou gar êdunanto agennêta einai ta neôsti gegennêmena. Katho de mê estin agennêta, kata touto kai husterountai tou teleiou. Katho de neôtera, kata touto kai nêpia, kata touto kai asunêthê kai agumnasta pros tên teleian agôgên]. The mother can no doubt give strong food to the child at the very beginning, but the child cannot stand it: [Greek: anthrôpos adunatos labein auto; nêpios gar ên], see also § 2-4: "Non ab initio dii facti sumus, sed primo quidem homines, tunc demum dii, quamvis deus secundum simplicitatem bonitatis suæ hoc fecerit, nequis eum putet invidiosum aut impræstantem." "Ego," inquit, "dixi, dii estis et filii excelsi omnes, nobis autem potestatem divinitatis baiulare non sustinentibus" ... "Oportuerat autem primo naturam apparere, post deinde vinci et absorbi mortale ab immortalitate et corruptibile ab incorruptibilitate, et fieri hominem secundum imaginem et similitudinem dei, agnitione accepta boni et mali." Ibid.: [Greek: hupotagê Theou aptharsia, kai paramonê aptharsias doxa agennêtos ... horasis Theou peripoiêtikê aptharsias; aptharsia de eggus einai poiei Theou]. In this chapter Irenæus contemplates the manner of appearance of the Logos (as man) from the point of view of a [Greek: sunnêpiazein]. His conception of the capacity and destination of man enabled him to develop his ideas about the progressive training of the human race and about the different covenants (see below). On this point cf. also IV. 20. 5-7. The fact that, according to this way of looking at things, the Good and Divine appeared only as the _destination_ of man--which was finally to be reached through divine guidance--but not as his _nature_, suggested both to Irenæus and Tertullian the distinction between "natura" and "gratia" or between "substantia" and "fides et iustitia." In other words, they were led to propound a problem which had occurred to the Gnostics long before, and had been solved by them in a dualistic sense. See Irenæus II. 29. 1: "Si propter substantiam omnes succedunt animæ in refrigerium, et superfluum est credere, superflua autem et discessio salvatoris; si autem propter iustitiam, iam non propter id, quod sint animæ sed quoniam sunt iustæ ... Si enim natura et substantia salvat, omnes salvabuntur animæ; si autem iustitia et fides etc." II. 34. 3: "Non enim ex nobis neque ex nostra natura vita est, sed secundum gratiam dei datur," II. 34. 4. Tertullian adv. Marc. III. 15: "Christi nomen non ex natura veniens, sed ex dispositione." In Tertullian these ideas are not unfrequently opposed to each other in this way; but the relationship between them has by no means been made clear.] [Footnote 559: On the psychology of Irenæus see Bohringer, p. 466 f., Wendt p. 22. The fact that in some passages he reckoned the [Greek: pneuma] in man as the latter's inalienable nature (e.g. II. 33-5), though as a rule (like Tatian) he conceives it as the divine Spirit, is an evident inconsistency on his part. The [Greek: eikôn] is realised in the body, the [Greek: homoiôsis] is not given by nature, but is brought about by the union with the Spirit of God realised through obedience (V. 6. 1). The [Greek: homoiôsis] is therefore subject to growth, and was not perfect at the beginning (see above, IV. 38. 4, where he opposes Tatian's opinion). It is clear, especially from V. 12. 2, that it is only the [Greek: pnoê], not the [Greek: pneuma], that is to be conceived as an original possession. On this point Irenæus appealed to 1 Cor. XV. 45. It is plain from the 37th chapter of the 4th Book, that Irenæus also views everything as ultimately dependent on man's inalienable freedom. Alongside of this God's goodness has scope for displaying itself in addition to its exercise at the creation, because it guides man's knowledge through counsel; see § 1. On Matth. XXIII. 37 Irenæus remarks: "veterem legem libertatis hominis manifestavit, quia liberum eum deus fecit ab initio, habentem suam potestatem sicut et suam animam ad utendum sententia dei voluntarie et non coactum a deo ... posuit in homine potestatem electionis quemadmodum in angelis (et enim angeli rationabiles), ut hi quidem qui obedissent iuste bonum sint possidentes, _datum quidem a deo, servatum vero ab ipsis_." An appeal to Rome II. 4-7 (!) follows. In § 2 Irenæus inveighs violently against the Gnostic doctrines of natural goodness and wickedness: [Greek: pantes tês autês eisi physeôs]. In § 4 he interprets the Pauline: "omnia licent, sed non omnia expediunt," as referring to man's inalienable freedom and to the way in which it is abused in order to work evil(!): "liberæ sententiæ ab initio est homo et liberæ sententiæ est deus, cuius ad similitudinem factus est." § 5: "Et non tantum in operibus, sed etiam in fide, liberum et suæ potestatis arbitrium hominis _servavit_ (that is, respected) dominus, dicens: Secundum fidem tuam fiat tibi." § 4: "deus consilium dat continere bonum, quod perficitur ex obedientia." § 3: "[Greek: to autexousion tou anthrôpou kai to symbouleutikon tou Theou mê biazomenou]." IV. 4. 3: "homo rationabilis et secundum hoc similis deo liber in arbitrio factus et suæ potestatis, ipse sibi causa est, ut aliquando quidem frumentum aliquando autem palea fiat."] [Footnote 560: As a matter of fact this view already belongs to the second train of thought; see particularly III. 21-23. Here in reality this merely applies to the particular individuals who chose disobedience, but Irenæus almost everywhere referred back to the fall of Adam. See, however, V. 27. 2: "Quicunque erga eum custodiunt dilectionem, suam his præstat communionem. Communio autem dei vita et lumen et fruitio eorum quæ sunt apud deum bonorum. Quicumque autem absistunt secundum sententiam suam ab eo, his eam quæ electa est ab ipsis separationem inducit. Separatio autem dei mors, et separatio lucis tenebræ, et separatio dei amissio omnium quæ sunt apud eum bonorum." V. 19. 1, 1. 3, 1. 1. The subjective moralism is very clearly defined in IV. 15. 2: "Id quod erat semper liberum et suæ potestatis in homine semper servavit deus et sua exhortatio, ut iuste iudicentur qui non obediunt ei quoniam non obedierunt, et qui obedierunt et crediderunt ei, honorentur incorruptibilitate."] [Footnote 561: Man's sin is thoughtlessness; he is merely led astray (IV. 40. 3). The fact that he let himself be seduced under the pretext of immortality is an excuse for him; man was _infans_, (See above; hence it is said, in opposition to the Gnostics, in IV. 38. 4: "supergredieutes legem humani generis et antequam fiant homines, iam volunt similes esse factori deo et nullam esse differentiam infecti dei et nunc facti hominis." The same idea is once more very clearly expressed in IV. 39. 3; "quemadmodum igitur erit homo deus, qui nondum factus est homo?" i.e., how could newly created man be already perfect as he was not even man, inasmuch as he did not yet know how to distinguish good and evil?). Cf. III. 23. 3, 5: "The fear of Adam was the beginning of wisdom; the sense of transgression led to repentance; but God bestows his grace on the penitent" ... "eum odivit deus, qui seduxit hominem, ei vero qui seductus est, sensim paullatimque misertus est." The "pondus peccati" in the sense of Augustine was by no means acknowledged by Irenæus, and although he makes use of Pauline sayings, and by preference such as have a quite different sense, he is very far from sharing Paul's view.] [Footnote 562: See IV. 37. 7: "Alias autem esset nostrum insensatum bonum, quod esset inexercitatum. Sed et videre non tantum nobis esset desiderabile, nisi cognovissemus quantum esset malum non videre; et bene valere autem male valentis experientia honorabilius efficit, et lucem tenebrarum comparatio et vitam mortis. Sic et coeleste regnum honorabilius est his qui cognoverunt terrenum." The main passage is III. 20. 1, 2, which cannot be here quoted. The fall was necessary in order that man might not believe that he was "naturaliter similis deo." Hence God permitted the great whale to swallow man for a time. In several passages Irenæus has designated the permitting of evil as kind generosity on the part of God, see, e.g., IV. 39. 1, 37. 7.] [Footnote 563: See Wendt, l.c., p. 24.] [Footnote 564: See III. 23. 6.] [Footnote 565: See V. I. 1: "Non enim aliter nos discere poteramus quæ sunt dei, nisi magister noster, verbum exsistens, homo factus fuisset ... Neque rursus nos aliter discere poteramus, nisi magistrum nostrum videntes," etc.; III. 23. 2, 5. 3: "libertatem restauravit"; IV. 24. 1: "reformavit humamum genus"; III. 17. 1: "spiritus sanctus in filium dei, filium hominis factum, descendit cum ipso assuescens habitare in genere humano." III. 19. 1: IV. 38. 3: 39. 1, 2. Wendt's summary, l.c., p. 24: "By the Logos becoming man, the type of the perfect man made its appearance," formulates Irenæus' meaning correctly and excludes the erroneous idea that he viewed the Logos himself as the prototype of humanity. A real divine manhood is not necessary within this train of thought; only a _homo inspiratus_ is required.] [Footnote 566: See Hippol. Philos. X. 33 (p. 538 sq.): [Greek: Epi toutois ton pantôn archonta dêmiourgôn ek pasôn synthetôn ousiôn eskeuasen, ou Theôn thelôn poiein esphêlen, oude angelon, all' anthrôpon. Ei gar Theon se êthelêse poiêsai, edunato; echeis tou logou to paradeigma; anthrôpon thelôn, anthrôpon se epoiêsen; ei de theleis kai Theos genesthai, hupakoue tô pepoiêkoti.] The famous concluding chapter of the Philosophoumena with its prospect of deification is to be explained from this (X. 34).] [Footnote 567: See Tertull. adv. Marc. II. 4-11; his undiluted moralism appears with particular clearness in chaps. 6 and 8. No weight is to be attached to the phrase in chapter 4 that God by placing man in Paradise really even then put him from Paradise into the Church. This is contrary to Wendt's opinion, l.c., p. 67. ff., where the exposition of Tertullian is _speciosior quam verior_. In adv. Marc. II. 4 ff. Wendt professes to see the first traces of the scholastic and Romish theory, and in de anima 16, 41 the germ of the subsequent Protestant view.] [Footnote 568: See IV. 5. 1, 6. 4.] [Footnote 569: See IV 14. 1: "In quantum enim deus nullius indiget, in tantum homo indiget dei communione. Hæc enim gloria hominis, perseverare et permanere in dei servitute." This statement, which, like the numerous others where Irenæus speaks of the adoptio, is opposed to moralism, reminds us of Augustine. In Irenæus' great work, however, we can point out not a few propositions which, so to speak, bear the stamp of Augustine; see IV. 38. 3: [Greek: hupotagê Theou aphtharsia].] [Footnote 570: See the passages quoted above, p. 241 f.] [Footnote 571: See III. 18. 1. V. 16. 1 is very remarkable: [Greek: En tois prosthen chronois elegeto men kat' eikona Theou gegonenai ton anthrôpon, ouk edeiknuto de, eti gar aoratos ên ho logos, ou kat' eikona ho anthrôpos egegonei. dia touto dê kai tên homoiôsin iadiôs apebalen]; see also what follows. In V. I. 1 Irenæus even says: "Quoniam iniuste dominabatur nobis apostasia, et cum natura essemus dei omnipotentis, alienavit nos contra naturam diabolus." Compare with this the contradictory passage IV. 38: "oportuerat autem primo naturam apparere" etc. (see above, p. 268), where _natura hominis_ is conceived as the opposite of the divine nature.] [Footnote 572: See Wendt, l.c., p. 29, who first pointed out the two dissimilar trains of thought in Irenæus with regard to man's original state, Duncker having already done so in regard to his Christology. Wendt has rightly shown that we have here a real and not a seeming contradiction; but, as far as the explanation of the fact is concerned, the truth does not seem to me to have been arrived at. The circumstance that Irenæus did not develop the mystic view in such a systematic way as the moralistic by no means justifies us in supposing that he merely adopted it superficially (from the Scriptures): for its nature admits of no systematic treatment, but only of a rhetorical and contemplative one. No further explanation can be given of the contradiction, because, strictly speaking, Irenæus has only given us fragments.] [Footnote 573: See V. 16. 3: [Greek: en tô prôtô Adam prosekopsamen, mê poiêsantes autou tên entolên]. IV. 34. 2: "homo initio in Adam inobediens per mortem percussus est;" III. 18. 7-23: V. 19. 1: V. 21. 1: V. 17. 1 sq.] [Footnote 574: Here also Irenæus keeps sin in the background; death and life are the essential ideas. Bohringer l.c., p. 484 has very rightly remarked: "We cannot say that Irenæus, in making Adam's conduct and suffering apply to the whole human race had started from an inward, immediate experience of human sinfulness and a feeling of the need of salvation founded on this." It is the thoughts of Paul to which Irenæus tried to accommodate himself without having had the same feeling about the flesh and sin as this Apostle. In Tertullian the mystic doctrine of salvation is rudimentary (but see, e.g. de anima 40: "ita omnis anima eo usque in Adam censetur donec in Christo recenseatur," and other passages); but he has speculations about Adam (for the most part developments of hints given in Irenæus; see the index in Oehler's edition), and he has a new realistic idea as to a physical taint of sin propagated through procreation. Here we have the first beginning of the doctrine of original sin (de testim. 3: "per diabolum homo a primordio circumventus, ut præceptum dei excederet, et propterea in mortem datus exinde totum genus de suo semine infectum suæ etiam damnationis traducem fecit." Compare his teachings in de anima 40, 41, 16 about the disease of sin that is propagated "ex originis vitio" and has become a real second nature). But how little he regards this original sin as guilt is shown by de bapt. 18: "Quaie innocens ætas festinat ad baptismum." For the rest, Tertullian discussed the relationship of flesh and spirit, sensuousness and intellect, much more thoroughly than Irenæus; he showed that flesh is not the seat of sin (de anima 40). In the same book (but see Bk. V. c. 1) he expressly declared that in this question also sure results are only to be obtained from revelation. This was an important step in the direction of secularising Christianity through "philosophy" and of emasculating the understanding through "revelation." In regard to the conception of sin Cyprian followed his teacher. De op. et eleem. 1 reads indeed like an utterance of Irenæus ("dominus sanavit illa quæ Adam portaverat vulnera"); but the statement in ep. 64. 5: "Recens natus nihil peccavit, nisi quod secundum Adam carnaliter natus contagium mortis antiquæ prima nativitate contraxit" is quite in the manner of Tertullian, and perhaps the latter could also have agreed with the continuation: "infanti remittuntur non propria sed aliena peccata." Tertullian's proposition that absolutely no one but the Son of God could have remained without sin was repeated by Cyprian (see, e.g., de op. et eleem. 3).] [Footnote 575: III. 22. 4 has quite a Gnostic sound ... "eam quæ est a Maria in Evam recirculationem significans; quia non aliter quod colligatum est solveretur, nisi ipsæ compagines alligationis reflectantur retrorsus, ut primæ coniunctiones solvantur per secundas, secundæ rursus liberent primas. Et evenit primam quidem compaginem a secunda colligatione solvere, secundam vero colligationem primæ solutionis habere locum. Et propter hoc dominus dicebat primos quidem novissimos futuros et novissimos primos." Irenæus expresses a Gnostic idea when he on one occasion plainly says (V. 12. 3): [Greek: En tô Adam pantes apothnêskomen, hoti psychikoi.] But Paul, too, made an approach to this thought.] [Footnote 576: See III. 23. 1, 2, a highly characteristic statement.] [Footnote 577: See, e.g., III. 9. 3, 12. 2, 16. 6-9, 17. 4 and repeatedly 8. 2: "verbum dei, per quem facta sunt omnia, qui est dominus noster Jesus Christus."] [Footnote 578: See IV. 6. 7.] [Footnote 579: See III. 11. 3.] [Footnote 580: See III. 6.] [Footnote 581: See III. 19. 1, 2: IV. 33. 4: V. 1. 3; see also Tertullian against "Ebion" de carne 14, 18, 24; de præser. 10. 33.] [Footnote 582: See III. 21, 22: V. 19-21.] [Footnote 583: See the arguments, l.c., V. 19. 1: "Quemadmodum adstrictum est morti genus humanum per virginem, salvatur per virginem, æqua lance disposita virginalis inobedientia per virginalem obedientiam," and other similar ones. We find the same in Tertull., de carne 17, 20. In this connection we find in both very extravagant expressions with regard to Mary (see, e.g. Tertull., l.c. 20 fin.: "uti virgo esset regeneratio nostra spiritaliter ab omnibus inquinamentis sanctificata per Christum." Iren. III. 21. 7: "Maria cooperans dispositioni (dei);" III. 22. 4 "Maria obediens et sibi et universo generi humano causa facta est salutis" ... "quod alligavit virgo Eva per incredulitatem, hoc virgo Maria solvit per fidem"). These, however, have no doctrinal significance; in fact the same Tertullian expressed himself in a depreciatory way about Mary in _de carne_ 7. On the other hand it is undeniable that the later Mariolatry has one of its roots in the parallel between Eve and Mary. The Gnostic invention of the _virginitas Mariæ in partu_ can hardly be traced in Irenæus III. 21. 4. Tertullian (de carne 23) does not seem to know anything about it as yet, and very decidedly assumed the natural character of the process. The popular conception as to the reason of Christ's birth from a virgin, in the form still current to-day, but beneath all criticism, is already found in Tertullian _de carne_ 18: "Non competebat ex semine humano dei filium nasci, ne, si totus esset filius hominis, non esset et dei filius, nihilque haberet amplius Salomone, ut de Hebionis opinione credendus erat Ergo iam dei filius ex patris dei semine, id est spiritu, ut esset et hominis filius, caro ei sola competebat ex hominis carne sumenda sine viri semine. Vacabat enim semen viri apud habentem dei semen." The other theory existing side by side with this, viz., that Christ would have been a sinner if he had been begotten from the semen, whereas he could assume sinless flesh from woman is so far as I know scarcely hinted at by Irenæus and Tertullian. The fact of Christ's birth was frequently referred to by Tertullian in order to prove Christ's kinship to God the Creator, e.g., adv. Marc. III. 11. Hence this article of the _regula fidei_ received a significance from this point of view also. An Encratite explanation of the birth from the Virgin is found in the old treatise _de resurr._ bearing Justin's name (Otto, Corp. Apol. III., p. 220.)] [Footnote 584: See, e.g., III. 18. 1 and many other places. See the passages named in note, p. 276.] [Footnote 585: So also Tertullian. See adv. Marc. III. 8: The whole work of salvation is destroyed by Docetism; cf. the work _de carne Christi_. Tertullian exclaims to the Docetist Marcion in c. 5: "Parce unicæ spei totius orbis." Irenæus and Tertullian mean that Christ's assumption of humanity was complete, but not unfrequently express themselves in such a manner as to convey the impression that the Logos only assumed flesh. This is particularly the case with Tertullian, who, moreover, in his earlier time had probably quite naive Docetic ideas and really looked upon the humanity of Christ as only flesh. See Apolog. 21: "spiritum Christus cum verbo sponte dimisit, prævento carnincis officio." Yet Irenæus in several passages spoke of Christ's human soul (III. 22. 1: V. 1. 1) as also did Melito ([Greek: to alêthes kai aphantaston tês psuchês Christou kai tou sômatos, tês kath' hêmas anthrôpinês phuseôs] Otto, l.c., IX., p. 415) and Tertullian (de carne 10 ff. 13; de resurr. 53). What we possess in virtue of the creation was _assumed_ by Christ (Iren., l.c., III. 22. 2.) Moreover, Tertullian already examined how the case stands with sin in relation to the flesh of Christ. In opposition to the opinion of the heretic Alexander, that the Catholics believe Jesus assumed earthly flesh in order to destroy the flesh of sin in himself, he shows that the Saviour's flesh was without sin and that it is not admissible to teach the annihilation of Christ's flesh (de carne 16; see also Irenæus V. 14. 2, 3): "Christ by taking to himself our flesh has made it his own, that is, he has made it sinless." It was again passages from Paul (Rom. VIII. 3 and Ephes. II. 15) that gave occasion to this discussion. With respect to the opinion that it may be with the flesh of Christ as it is with the flesh of angels who appear, Tertullian remarks (de carne 6) that no angel came to die; that which dies must be born; the Son of God came to die.] [Footnote 586: This conception was peculiar to Irenæus, and for good reasons was not repeated in succeeding times; see II. 22: III. 17. 4. From it also Irenæus already inferred the necessity of the death of Christ and his abode in the lower world, V. 31. 1, 2. Here we trace the influence of the recapitulation idea. It has indeed been asserted (very energetically by Schultz, Gottheit Christi, p. 73 f.) that the Christ of Irenæus was not a personal man, but only possessed humanity. But that is decidedly incorrect, the truth merely being that Irenæus did not draw all the inferences from the personal humanity of Christ.] [Footnote 587: See Iren. V. 31. 2: "Surgens in carne sic ascendit ad patrem." Tertullian, de carne 24: "Bene quod idem veniet de cælis qui est passus ... et agnoscent qui eum confixerunt, utique ipsam carnem in quam sævierunt, sine qua nee ipse esse poterit et agnosci;" see also what follows.] [Footnote 588: See Iren. IV. 33. 11.] [Footnote 589: See Iren. IV. 20. 4; see also III. 19. 1.] [Footnote 590: He always posits the unity in the form of a confession without describing it. See III. 16. 6, which passage may here stand for many. "Verbum unigenitus, qui semper humano generi adest, unitus et consparsus suo plasmati secundum placitum patris et caro factus ipse est Iesus Christus dominus noster, qui et passus est pro nobis et ressurrexit propter nos.... Unus igitur deus pater, quemadmodum ostendimus, et unus Christus Iesus domiuns noster, veniens per universam dispositionem et omnia in semelipsum recapitulans. In omnibus autem est et homo plasmatio del, et hominem ergo in semetipsum recapitulans est, invisibilis visibilis factus, et incomprehensibilis factus comprehensibilis et impassibilis passibilis et verbum homo." V. 18. 1: "Ipsum verbum dei incarnatum suspensum est super lignum."] [Footnote 591: Here Irenæus was able to adopt the old formula "God has suffered" and the like; so also Melito, see Otto l.c., IX. p. 416: [Greek: ho Theos peponuen hupo dexias Israêlitidos] (p. 422): "Quidnam est hoc novum mysterium? iudex iudicatur et quietus est; invisibilis videtur neque erubescit: incomprehensibilis prehenditur neque indignatur, incommensurabilis mensuratur neque repugnat; impassibilis patitur neque ulciscitur; immortalis moritur, neque respondit verbum, coelestis sepelitur et id fert." But let us note that these are not "doctrines," but testimonies to the faith, as they were always worded from the beginning and such as could, if need were, be adapted to any Christology. Though Melito in a fragment whose genuineness is not universally admitted (Otto, l.c., p. 415 sq.) declared in opposition to Marcion, that Christ proved his humanity to the world in the 30 years before his baptism; but showed the divine nature concealed in his human nature during the 3 years of his ministry, he did not for all that mean to imply that Jesus' divinity and humanity are in any way separated. But, though Irenæus inveighed so violently against the "Gnostic" separation of Jesus and Christ (see particularly III. 16. 2, where most weight is laid on the fact that we do not find in Matth.: "Iesu generatio sic erat" but "Christi generatio sic erat"), there is no doubt that in some passages he himself could not help unfolding a speculation according to which the predicates applying to the human nature of Jesus do not also hold good of his divinity, in fact he actually betrayed a view of Christ inconsistent with the conception of the Saviour's person as a perfect unity. We can indeed only trace this view in his writings in the form of an undercurrent, and what led to it will be discussed further on. Both he and Melito, as a rule adhered to the simple "filius dei filius hominis factus" and did not perceive any problem here, because to them the disunion prevailing in the world and in humanity was the difficult question that appeared to be solved through this very divine manhood. How closely Melito agreed with Irenæus is shown not only by the proposition (p. 419): "Propterea misit pater filium suum e coelo sine corpore (this is said in opposition to the Valentinian view), ut, postquam incarnatus esset in, utero virginis et natus esset homo, vivificaret hominem et colligeret membra eius quæ mors disperserat, quum hominem divideret," but also by the "propter hominem iudicatus est iudex, impassibilis passus est?" (l.c.).] [Footnote 592: The concepts employed by Irenæus are _deus_, _verbum_, _filius dei_, _homo_, _filius hominis_, _plasma dei_. What perhaps hindered the development of that formula in his case was the circumstance of his viewing Christ, though he had assumed the _plasma dei_, humanity, as a personal man who (for the sake of the recapitulation theory) not only had a human nature but was obliged to live through a complete human life. The fragment attributed to Irenæus (Harvey II., p. 493) in which occur the words, [Greek: tou Theou logou henôoei tê kath' hupostasin physikê henôthentos tê sakri], is by no means genuine. How we are to understand the words: [Greek: hina ex amphoterôn to periphanes tôn physeôn paradeichthê] in fragment VIII. (Harvey II., p. 479), and whether this piece belongs to Irenæus, is uncertain. That Melito (assuming the genuineness of the fragment) has the formula of the two natures need excite no surprise; for (1) Melito was also a philosopher, which Irenæus was not, and (2) it is found in Tertullian, whose doctrines can be shown to be closely connected with those of Melito (see my Texte und Untersuchungen I. 1, 2, p. 249 f.). If that fragment is genuine Melito is the first Church teacher who has spoken of two natures.] [Footnote 593: See Apol. 21: "verbum caro figuratus ... homo deo mixtus;" adv. Marc. II. 27: "filius dei miscens in semetipso hominem et deum;" de carne 15: "homo deo mixtus;" 18: "sic homo cum deo, dum caro hominis cum spiritu dei." On the Christology of Tertullian cf. Schulz, Gottheit Christi, p. 74 ff.] [Footnote 594: De carne 5: "Crucifixus est dei filius, non pudet quia pudendum est; et mortuus est dei filius, prorsus credibile est, quia ineptum est; et sepultus resurrexit, certum est, quia impossible est;" but compare the whole book; c. 5 init.: "deus crucifixus," "nasci se voluit deus". De pat. 3: "nasci se deus in utero patitur." The formula: [Greek: ho gennêtheis, ho megas Theos] is also found in Sibyll. VII. 24.] [Footnote 595: De carne I, cf. ad nat. II. 4: "ut iure consistat collegium nominis communione substantiæ."] [Footnote 596: De carne 18 fin.] [Footnote 597: Adv. Prax. 27: "Sed enim invenimus illum diiecto et deum et hominem expositum, ipso hoc psalmo suggerente (Ps. LXXXVII. 5) ... hic erit homo et filius hominis, qui definitus est filius dei secundum spiritum ... Videmus duplicem statum, non confusum sed coniunctum in una persona deum et hominem Iesum. De Christo autem differo. Et adeo salva est utriusque proprietas substantiæ, ut et spiritus res suas egerit in illo, id est virtutes et opera et signa, et caro passiones suas functa sit, esuriens sub diabolo ... denique et mortua est. Quodsi tertium quid esset, ex utroque confusum, ut electrum, non tam distincta documenta parerent utrinsque substantiæ." In what follows the _actus utriusque substantiæ_ are sharply demarcated: "ambæ substantiæ in statu suo quæque distincte agebant, ideo illis et operæ et exitus sui occurrerunt ... neque caro spiritus fit neque spiritus caro: in uno plane esse possunt." See also c. 29: "Quamquam cum duæ substantiæ censeantur in Christo Iesu, divina et humana, constet autem immortalem esse divinam" etc.] [Footnote 598: Of this in a future volume. Here also two _substances_ in Christ are always spoken of (there are virtually three, since, according to _de anima_ 35, men have already two substances in themselves) I know only one passage where Tertullian speaks of _natures_ in reference to Christ, and this passage in reality proves nothing; de carne 5: "Itaque utriusque substantiæ census hominem et deum exhibuit, hinc natum, inde non natum (!), hinc carneum, inde spiritalem" etc. Then: "Quæ proprietas conditionum, divinæ et humanæ, æqua utique _naturæ_ cuiusque veritate disjuncta est."] [Footnote 599: In the West up to the time of Leo I. the formula "deus et homo," or, after Tertullian's time "duæ substantiæ," was always a simple expression of the facts acknowledged in the Symbol, and not a speculation derived from the doctrine of redemption. This is shown just from the fact of stress being laid on the unmixedness. With this was associated a theoretic and apologetic interest on the part of theologians, so that they began to dwell at greater length on the unmixedness after the appearance of that Patripassianism, which professed to recognise the _filius dei_ in the _caro_, that is in the _deus_ so far as he is _incarnatus_ or has _changed_ himself into flesh. As to Tertullian's opposition to this view see what follows. In contradistinction to this Western formula the monophysite one was calculated to satisfy both the _salvation_ interest and the understanding. The Chalcedonian creed, as is admitted by Schulz, l.c., pp. 64 ff., 71 ff., is consequently to be explained from Tertullian's view, not from that of the Alexandrians. Our readers will excuse us for thus anticipating.] [Footnote 600: "Quare," says Irenæus III. 21. 10--"igitur non iterum sumpsit limum deus sed ex Maria operatus est plasmationem fieri? Ut non alia plasmatio fieret neque alia, esset plasmatio quæ salvaietur, sed eadem ipsa recapitularetur, servata similitudine?"] [Footnote 601: See de carne 18. Oehler has misunderstood the passage and therefore mispointed it. It is as follows: "Vox ista (Joh. I. 14) quid caro factum sit contestatur, nec tamen periclitatur, quasi statim aliud sit (verbum), factum caro, et non verbum.... Cum scriptura non dicat nisi quod factum sit, non et unde sit factum, ergo ex alio, non ex semetipso suggerit factum" etc.] [Footnote 602: Adv. Prax. 27 sq. In de carne 3 sq. and elsewhere Tertullian indeed argues against Marcion that God in contradistinction to all creatures can transform himself into anything and yet remain God. Hence we are not to think of a transformation in the strict sense, but of an _adunitio_.] [Footnote 603: So I think I ought to express myself. It does not seem to me proper to read a twofold conception into Irenæus' Christological utterances under the pretext that Christ according to him was also the perfect man, with all the modern ideas that are usually associated with this thought (Bohringer, l.c., p. 542 ff., see Thomasius in opposition to him).] [Footnote 604: See, e.g., V. 1. 3. Nitzch, Dogmengeschichte I. p. 309. Tertullian, in his own peculiar fashion, developed still more clearly the thought transmitted to him by Irenæus. See adv. Prax. 12: "Quibus faciebat deus hominem similem? Filio quidem, qui erat induturus hominem.... Erat autem ad cuius imaginem faciebat, ad filii scilicet, qui homo futurus certior et verior imaginem suam fecerat dici hominem, qui tunc de limo formari habebat, imago veri et similitudo." Adv. Marc. V. 8: "Creator Christum, sermonem suum, intuens hominem futurum, Faciamus, inquit, hominem ad imaginem et similitudinem nostram"; the same in de resurr. 6. But with Tertullian, too, this thought was a sudden idea and did not become the basis of further speculation.] [Footnote 605: Iren. IV. 14. 2; for further particulars on the point see below, where Irenæus' views on the preparation of salvation are discussed. The views of Dorner, l.c., 492 f., that the union of the Son of God with humanity was a gradual process, are marred by some exaggerations, but are correct in their main idea.] [Footnote 606: "Secundum id quod verbum dei homo erat ex radice lesse et filius Abrabæ, secunum hoc requiescebat spiritus dei super eum ... secundum autem quod deus erat, non secundum gloriam iudicabat." All that Irenæus said of the Spirit in reference to the person of Christ is to be understood merely as an _exegetical_ necessity and must not be regarded as a theoretical _principle_ (this is also the case with Tertullian). Dorner (l.c., p. 492 f.) has failed to see this, and on the basis of Irenæus' incidental and involuntary utterances has attempted to found a speculation which represents the latter as meaning that the Holy Ghost was the medium which gradually united the Logos, who was exalted above growing and suffering, into one person with the free and growing man in Jesus Christ. In III. 12. 5-7 Irenæus, in conformity with Acts IV. 27: X. 38, used the following other formulæ about Christ: [Greek: ho Theos, ho poiêsas ton ouranon k.t.l., kai ho toutou pais, on echrisen ho Theos]--"Petrus Iesum ipsum esse filium dei testificatus est, qui et unctus Spiritu Sancto Iesus dicitur." But Irenæus only expressed himself thus because of these passages, whereas Hippolytus not unfrequently calls Christ [Greek: pais Theos].] [Footnote 607: On Hippolytus' views of the incarnation see Dorner, l.c., I. p. 609 ff.--an account to be used with caution--and Overbeck, Quæst. Hippol. Specimen (1864), p. 47 sq. Unfortunately the latter has not carried out his intention to set forth the Christology of Hippolytus in detail. In the work quoted he has, however, shown how closely the latter in many respects has imitated Irenæus in this case also. It is instructive to see what Hippolytus has not adopted from Irenæus or what has become rudimentary with him. As a professional and learned teacher he is at bottom nearer to the Apologists as regards his Christology than Irenæus. As an exegete and theological author he has much in common with the Alexandrians, just as he is in more than one respect a connecting link between Catholic controversialists like Irenæus and Catholic scholars like Origen. With the latter he moreover came into personal contact. See Hieron., de vir. inl. 61: Hieron., ep. ad Damas. edit. Venet. I., ep. 36 is also instructive. These brief remarks are, however, by no means intended to give countenance to Kimmel's untenable hypothesis (de Hippol. vita et scriptis, 1839) that Hippolytus was an Alexandrian. In Hippolytus' treatise c. Noët. we find positive teachings that remind us of Tertullian. An important passage is de Christo et Antichristo 3 f.: [Greek: eis gar kai ho tou Theou] (Iren.), [Greek: di' ou kai hêmeis tuchontes tên dia tou hagiou pneumatos anagennesin eis ena teleion kai epouranion anthrôpon hoi pantes katantêsai epithumoumen] (see Iren.) [Greek: Epeidê gar ho logos tou Theou asarkos ôn] (see Melito, Iren., Tertull.) [Greek: enedusato tên hagian sarka ek tês hagias parthenou; hôs numphios himation exuphanas heautô ên tô staurikô pathei] (Irenæus and Tertullian also make the death on the cross the object of the assumption of the flesh), [Greek: hopôs sygkerasas to thnêton hemôn sôma tê heautou dunamei kai mixas] (Iren., Tertull.) [Greek: tô aphthartô to phtharton kai to asthenes tô ischurô sôse ton apollumenon anthrôpon] (Iren.). The succeeding disquisition deserves particular note, because it shows that Hippolytus has also borrowed from Irenæus the idea that the union of the Logos with humanity had already begun in a certain way in the prophets. Overbeck has rightly compared the [Greek: anaplassein di' heutou ton Adam] l.c., c. 26, with the [Greek: anakephalaioun] of Irenæus and l.c., c. 44, with Iren. II. 22, 4. For Hippolytus' Christology Philosoph. X. 33, p. 542 and c. Noet. 10 ff. are the chief passages of additional importance. In the latter passage it is specially noteworthy that Hippolytus, in addition to many other deviations from Irenæus and Tertullian, insists on applying the full name of Son only to the incarnate Logos. In this we have a remnant of the more ancient idea and at the same time a concession to his opponents who admitted an eternal Logos in God, but not a pre-temporal hypostasis of the Son. See c. 15: [Greek: poion oun huion heautou ho Theos dia tês sarkos katepempsen all' hê ton logon; hon huion prosêgoreue dia to mellein auton genesthai, kai to koinon onoma tês eis anthrôpous philostorgias analambanei ho huios (kaitoi teleios logos ôn monogenes). oud' hê sarx kath' heautên dicha tou logou hupostênai êdunato dia to en logô tên sustasin echein houtôs oun eis huios teleios Theou ephanerôthê.] Hippolytus partook to a much greater extent than his teacher Irenæus of the tree of Greek knowledge and he accordingly speaks much more frequently than the latter of the "divine mysteries" of the faith. From the fragments and writings of this author that are preserved to us the existence of very various Christologies can be shown; and this proves that the Christology of his teacher Irenæus had not by any means yet become predominant in the Church, as we might suppose from the latter's confident tone. Hippolytus is an exegete and accordingly still yielded with comparative impartiality to the impressions conveyed by the several passages. For example he recognised the woman of Rev. XII. as the Church and the Logos as her child, and gave the following exegesis of the passage (de Christo et Antichristo 61): [Greek: ou pausetai hê ekklêsia gennôsa ek kardias ton logon tou en kosmô hupo apistôn diôkomenon. "kai eteke", phêsin, "huion arrena, hos mellei poimainein panta ta ethnê", ton arrena kai teleios Christon, paida Theou, Theon kai anthrôpon katangellomenon aei tiktousa hê ekklêsia didaskei panta ta ethnê.] If we consider how Irenæus' pupil is led by the text of the Holy Scriptures to the most diverse "doctrines," we see how the "Scripture" theologians were the very ones who threatened the faith with the greatest corruptions. As the exegesis of the Valentinian schools became the mother of numerous self-contradictory Christologies, so the same result was threatened here--"doctrinæ inolescentes in silvas iam exoleverunt Gnosticorum." From this standpoint Origen's undertaking to subject the whole material of Biblical exegesis to a fixed theory appears in its historical greatness and importance.] [Footnote 608: See other passages on p. 241, note 2. This is also reëchoed in Cyprian. See, for example, ep. 58. 6: "filius dei passus est ut nos filios dei faceret, et filius hominis (scil. the Christians) pati non vult esse dei filius possit."] [Footnote 609: See III. 10. 3.] [Footnote 610: See the remarkable passage in IV. 36. 7: [Greek: hê gnôsis tou huiou tou Theou, hêtis ên aphtharsia.] Another result of the Gnostic struggle is Irenæus' raising the question as to what new thing the Lord has brought (IV. 34. 1): "Si autem subit vos huiusmodi sensus, ut dicatis: Quid igitur novi dominus attulit veniens? cognoscite, quoniam omnem novitatem attulit semetipsum afferens, qui fuerat annuntiatus." The new thing is then defined thus: "Cum perceperunt eam quæ ab eo est libertatem et participant visionem eius et audierunt sermones eius et fruiti sunt muneribus ab eo, non iam requiretur, quid novius attulit rex super eos, qui annuntiaverunt advenum eius ... Semetipsum enim attulit et ea quæ prædicta sunt bona."] [Footnote 611: See IV. 36. 6: "Adhuc manifestavit oportere nos cum vocatione (i.e., [Greek: meta tên klêsin]) et iustitiæ operibus adornari, uti requiescat super nos spiritus dei"--we must provide _ourselves_ with the wedding garment.] [Footnote 612: The incapacity of man is referred to in III. 18. 1: III. 21. 10; III. 21-23 shows that the same man that had fallen had to be led to communion with God; V. 21. 3: V. 24. 4 teach that man had to overcome the devil; the intrinsic necessity of God's appearing as Redeemer is treated of in III. 23. 1: "Si Adam iam non reverteretur ad vitam, sed in totum proiectus esset morti, victus esset deus et superasset serpentis nequitia voluntatem dei. Sed quoniam deus invictus et magnanimis est, magnanimem quidem se exhibuit etc." That the accomplishment of salvation must be effected in a righteous manner, and therefore be as much a proof of the righteousness as of the immeasurable love and mercy of God, is shown in V. 1. 1: V. 21.] [Footnote 613: Irenæus demonstrated the view in V. 21 in great detail. According to his ideas in this chapter we must include the history of the temptation in the _regula fidei_.] [Footnote 614: See particularly V. 1. 1: "Verbum potens et homo verus sanguine suo rationabiliter redimens nos, redemptionem semetipsum dedit pro his, qui in captivitatem ducti sunt ... del verbum non deficiens in sua iustitia, iuste etiam adversus ipsam conversus est apostasiam, ea quæ sunt sua redimens ab ea, non cum vi, quemadmodum ilia initio dominabatur nostri, ea quæ non erant sua insatiabiliter rapiens, sed secundum suadelam, quemadmodum decebat deum suadentem et non vim inferentem, accipere quæ vellet, ut neque quod est iustum confringeretur neque antiqua plasmatio dei deperiret." We see that the idea of the blood of Christ as ransom does not possess with Irenæus the value of a fully developed theory, but is suggestive of one. But even in this form it appeared suspicious and, in fact, a Marcionite idea to a Catholic teacher of the 3rd century. Pseudo-Origen (Adamantius) opposed it by the following argument (De recta in deum fide, edit Wetstein 1673, Sectio I. p. 38 sq. See Rufinus' translation in Caspari's Kirchenhistorische Anecdota Vol. I. 1883, p. 34 sq., which in many places has preserved the right sense): [Greek: Ton priômenon ephês, einai ton Christon, ho peprakôs tis estin; êlthen eis se ho aplous mythos; hoti ho pôlôn kai ho agorazôn adelphoi eisin; ei kakos ôn ho diabolos tô agathô pepraken, ouk esti kakos alla agathos; ho gar ap' archês phthonêsas tô anthrôpô, nun ouk eti hupo phthonou agetai, tô agathô tên nomên paradous. estai oun dikaios ho tou phthonou kai pantos kakou pausamenos. autos goun ho Theos heurisketai pôlêsas; mallon de hoi hêmartêkotes heautous apêllotriôsan hoi anthrôpoi dia tas hamartias autôn; palin de elutrôthêsan dia tên eusplagchnian autou. touto gar phêsin ho prophêtês; Tais hamartiais humôn eprathête kai tais anomiais exapesteila tên mêtera humôn. Kai allos palin; Dôrean eprathête, kai ou meta argyriou lutrôthêsesthe. to, oude meta argyriou; dêlonoti, tou haimatos tou Christou. touto gar phaskei ho prophêtês] (Isaiah, LIII. 5 follows). [Greek: Eikos de hoti kata se epriato dous heautou to haima; pôs oun kai ek nekrôn êgeireto; ei gar ho labôn tên timên tôn anthrôpôn, to haima, apedôken, ouketi epôlêsen. Ei de mê apedôke, pôs anestê Christos, ouketi oun to, Exousian echô theinai kai exousian echô labein, histatai; ho goun diabolos katechei to haima tou Christou anti tês timês tôn anthrôpôn; pollê blasphêmios anoia! Pheu tôn kakôn! Apethanen, anestê hôs dunatos; ethêken ho elaben; autê poia prasis; tou prophêtou legontos; Anastêtô ho Theos kai diaskorpisthêtôsan hoi echthroi autou, Opou anastasis, ekei thanatos!] That is an argument as acute as it is true and victorious.] [Footnote 615: See Iren. V. 2, 3, 16. 3, 17-4. In III. 16. 9 he says: "Christus per passionem reconciliavit nos deo." It is moreover very instructive to compare the way in which Irenæus worked out the recapitulation theory with the old proof from prophecy ("this happened that the Scripture might be fulfilled"). Here we certainly have an advance; but at bottom the recapitulation theory may also be conceived as a modification of that proof.] [Footnote 616: See, e.g., IV. 5. 4: [Greek: prothumôs Abraam ton idion monogenê kai agapêton parachôrêsas thusian tô Theô, hina kai ho Theos eudokêsê huper tou spermatos autou pantos ton idion monogenê kai agapêton huion thusian paraschein eis lutrôsin hêmeteran].] [Footnote 617: There are not a few passages where Irenæus said that Christ has annihilated sin, abolished Adam's disobedience, and introduced righteousness through his obedience (III. 18. 6, 7: III. 20. 2: V. 16-21); but he only once tried to explain how that is to be conceived (III. 18. 7), and then merely reproduced Paul's thoughts.] [Footnote 618: Irenæus has no hesitation in calling the Christian who has received the Spirit of God the perfect, the spiritual one, and in representing him, in contrast to the false Gnostic, as he who in truth judges all men, Jews, heathen, Marcionites, and Valentinians, but is himself judged by no one; see the great disquisition in IV. 33 and V. 9. 10. This true Gnostic, however, is only to be found where we meet with right faith in God the Creator, sure conviction with regard to the God-man Jesus Christ, true knowledge as regards the Holy Spirit and the economy of salvation, the apostolic doctrine, the right Church system in accordance with the episcopal succession, the intact Holy Scripture, and its uncorrupted text and interpretation (IV. 33. 7, 8). To him the true believer is the real Gnostic.] [Footnote 619: See IV. 22. In accordance with the recapitulation theory Christ must also have descended to the lower world. There he announced forgiveness of sins to the righteous, the patriarchs and prophets (IV. 27. 2). For this, however, Irenæus was not able to appeal to Scripture texts, but only to statements of a presbyter. It is nevertheless expressly asserted, on the authority of Rom. III. 23, that these pre-Christian just men also could only receive justification and the light of salvation through the arrival of Christ among them.] [Footnote 620: See III. 16. 6: "In omnibus autem est et homo plasmatio dei; et hominem ergo in semetipsum recapitulans est, invisibilis visibilis factus, et incomprehensibilis factus comprehensibilis et impassibilis passibilis, et verbum homo, universa in semetipsum recapitulans, uti sicut in supercaelestibus et spiritalibus et invisibilibus princeps est verbum dei, sic et in visibilibus et corporalibus principatum habeat, in semetipsum primatum assumens et apponens semetipsum caput ecclesiæ, universa attrahat ad semetipsum apto in tempore."] [Footnote 621: There are innumerable passages where Tertullian has urged that the whole work of Christ is comprised in the death on the cross, and indeed that this death was the aim of Christ's mission. See, e.g., de pat. 3: "Taceo quod figitur; in hoc enim venerat"; de bapt. II: "Mors nostra dissolvi non potuit, nisi domini passione, nee vita restitui sine resurrectione ipsius"; adv. Marc. III. 8: "Si mendacium deprehenditur Christi caro... nec passiones Christi fidem merebuntur. Eversum est igitur totum dei opus. Totum Christiani nominis et pondus et fructus, mors Christi, negatur, quam iam impresse apostolus demendat, utique veram, summum eam fundamentum evangelii constituens et salutis nostræ et prædictionis suae," 1 Cor. XV. 3, 4; he follows Paul here. But on the other hand he has also adopted from Irenæus the mystical conception of redemption--the constitution of Christ is the redemption--though with a rationalistic explanation. See adv. Marc. II. 27: "filius miscens in semetipso hominem et deum, ut tantum homini conferat, quantum deo detrahit. Conversabatur deus, ut homo divina agere doceretur. Ex æquo agebat deus cum homine, ut homo ex æquo agere cum deo posset." Here therefore the meaning of the divine manhood of the Redeemer virtually amounts to divine teaching. In de resurr. 63 Christ is called "fidelissimus sequester dei et hominum, qui et homini deum et hominem deo reddet." Note the future tense. It is the same with Hippolytus who in Philos. X. 34 represents the deification of men as the aim of redemption, but at the same time merely requires Christ as the lawgiver and teacher: "[Greek: Kai tauta men ekpheuxê Theon ton onta didachtheis, exeis de athanaton to sôma kai aphtharton hama psychê, basileian ouranôn apolêpsê, ho en gê bious kai epouranion basilea epignous, esê de homilêtês Theou kai sygklêronomos Christou, ouk epithymiais ê pathesi kai nosois douloumenos. Gegonas gar Theos hosa gar hupemeinas pathê anthrôpos ôn, tauta edidou, hoti anthrôpos eis, hosa de parakolouthei Theô, tauta parechein epêngeltai Theos, hoti etheopoiêthês, athanatos gennêtheis. Toutesti to Gnôthi seauton, epignous tou pepoiêkota Thoen. To gar epignônai heauton epignôsthênai symbebêke tô kaloumenô hup' autou. Mê philechthrêsête toinun heautois, anthrôpoi, mêde to palindromein distasête. Christos gar estin ho kata pantôn Theos, os tên hamartian ex anthrôpôn apoplunein proetaxe, neon ton palaion anthrôpon apotelôn, eikona touton kalesas ap' archês, dia tupou tên eis se epideiknumenos storgên, ou prostagmasin hupakousas semnois, kai agathou agathos genomenos mimêtês, esê homoios hup' autou timêtheis. Ou gar ptôcheuei Theos kai se Theon poiêsas eis doxan autou]." It is clear that with a conception like this, which became prevalent in the 3rd century, Christ's death on the cross could have no proper significance; nothing but the Holy Scriptures preserved its importance. We may further remark that Tertullian used the expression "satisfacere deo" about men (see, e.g., de bapt. 20; de pud. 9), but, so far as I know, not about the work of Christ. This expression is very frequent in Cyprian (for penances), and he also uses it about Christ. In both writers, moreover, we find "meritum" (_e.g._, Scorp. 6) and "promereri deum". With them and with Novatian the idea of "culpa" is also more strongly emphasised than it is by the Eastern theologians. Cf. Novatian de trin. 10: "quoniam cum caro et sanguis non obtinere regnum dei scribitur, non carnis substantia damnata est, quæ divinis manibus ne periret, exstructa est, sed sola carnis _culpa_ merito reprehensa est." Tertullian de bapt. 5 says: "Exempto reatu eximitur et poena." On the other hand he speaks of fasting as "officia humiliationis", through which we can "inlicere" God. Among these Western writers the thought that God's anger must be appeased both by sacrifices and corresponding acts appears in a much more pronounced form than in Irenæus. This is explained by their ideas as practical churchmen and by their actual experiences in communities that were already of a very secular character. We may, moreover, point out in a general way that the views of Hippolytus are everywhere more strictly dependent on Scripture texts than those of Irenæus. That many of the latter's speculations are not found in Hippolytus is simply explained by the fact that they have no clear scriptural basis; see Overbeck, Quæst, Hippol., Specimen p. 75, note 29. On a superficial reading Tertullian seems to have a greater variety of points of view than Irenæus; he has in truth fewer, he contrived to work the grains of gold transmitted to him in such a way as to make the form more valuable than the substance. But one idea of Tertullian, which is not found in Irenæus, and which in after times was to attain great importance in the East (after Origen's day) and in the West (after the time of Ambrosius), may be further referred to. We mean the notion that Christ is the bridegroom and the human soul (and also the human body) the bride. This theologoumenon owes its origin to a combination of two older ones, and subsequently received its Biblical basis from the Song of Solomon. The first of these older theologoumena is the Greek philosophical notion that the divine Spirit is the bridegroom and husband of the human soul. See the Gnostics (e.g., the sublime description in the Excerpta ex Theodoto 27); Clem. ep. ad Jacob. 4. 6; as well as Tatian, Orat. 13; Tertull., de anima 41 fin.: "Sequitur animam nubentem spiritui caro; o beatum connubium"; and the still earlier Sap. Sal. VIII. 2 sq. An offensively realistic form of this image is found in Clem. Horn. III. 27: [Greek: numphê gar estin ho pas anthrôpos, hopotan tou alêthous prophêtou leukô logô alêtheias speiromenos phôtizêtai ton noun.] The second is the apostolic notion that the Church is the bride and the body of Christ. In the 2nd Epistle of Clement the latter theologoumenon is already applied in a modified form. Here it is said that humanity as the Church, that is human nature (the flesh), belongs to Christ as his Eve (c. 14; see also Ignat. ad Polyc. V. 2; Tertull. de monog. II, and my notes on [Greek: Didachê] XI. 11). The conclusion that could be drawn from this, and that seemed to have a basis in certain utterances of Jesus, viz., that the individual human soul together with the flesh is to be designated as the bride of Christ, was, so far as I know, first arrived at by Tertullian de resurr. 63: "Carnem et spiritum iam in semetipso Christus foederavit, sponsam sponso et sponsum spousæ; comparavit. Nam et si animam quis contenderit sponsam, vel dotis nomine sequetur animam caro ... Caro est sponsa, quæ in Christo spiritum sponsum per sanguinem pacta est"; see also de virg. vel. 16. Notice, however, that Tertullian continually thinks of all souls together (all flesh together) rather than of the individual soul.] [Footnote 622: By the _regula_ inasmuch as the words "from thence he will come to judge the quick and the dead" had a fixed place in the confessions, and the belief in the _duplex adventus Christi_ formed one of the most important articles of Church belief in contradistinction to Judaism and Gnosticism (see the collection of passages in Hesse, "das Muratorische Fragment", p. 112 f.). But the belief in the return of Christ to this world necessarily involved the hope of a kingdom of glory under Christ upon earth, and without this hope is merely a rhetorical flourish.] [Footnote 623: Cf. here the account already given in Book I., chap. 3, Vol. I., p. 167 ff., Book I., chap. 4, Vol. I, p. 261, Book II., chap. 3, Vol. I, p. 105 f. On Melito compare the testimony of Polycrates in Eusebius, H. E. V. 24. 5, and the title of his lost work "[Greek: peri tou diabolou kai tês apokalupseôs Iôannou]." Chiliastic ideas are also found in the epistle from Lyons in Eusebius, H. E. V. 1 sq. On Hippolytus see his work "de Christo et Antichristo" and Overbeck's careful account (l.c., p. 70 sq.) of the agreement here existing between Irenæus and Hippolytus as well as of the latter's chiliasm on which unfounded doubts have been cast. Overbeck has also, in my opinion, shown the probability of chiliastic portions having been removed at a later period both from Hippolytus' book and the great work of Irenæus. The extensive fragments of Hippolytus' commentary on Daniel are also to be compared (and especially the portions full of glowing hatred to Rome lately discovered by Georgiades). With reference to Tertullian compare particularly the writings adv. Marc. III., adv. Jud., de resurrectione carnis, de anima, and the titles of the subsequently suppressed writings de paradiso and de spe fidelium. Further see Commodian, Carmen apolog., Lactantius, Instit. div., I. VII., Victorinus, Commentary on the Apocalypse. It is very remarkable that Cyprian already set chiliasm aside; cf. the conclusion of the second Book of the Testimonia and the few passages in which he quoted the last chapters of Revelation. The Apologists were silent about chiliastic hopes, Justin even denied them in Apol. I. 11, but, as we have remarked, he gives expression to them in the Dialogue and reckons them necessary to complete orthodoxy. The Pauline eschatology, especially several passages in 1 Cor. XV. (see particularly verse 50), caused great difficulties to the Fathers from Justin downwards. See Fragm. Justini IV. a Methodic supped. in Otto, Corp. Apol. III., p. 254, Iren. V. 9, Tertull. de resurr. 48 sq. According to Irenæus the heretics, who completely abandoned the early-Christian eschatology, appealed to 1 Cor. XV. 50. The idea of a kind of purgatory--a notion which does not originate with the realistic but with the philosophical eschatology--is quite plainly found in Tertullian, e.g., in de anima 57 and 58 ("modicum delictum illuc luendum"). He speaks in several passages of stages and different places of bliss; and this was a universally diffused idea (e.g., Scorp. 6).] [Footnote 624: Irenæus begins with the resurrection of the body and the proofs of it (in opposition to Gnosticism). These proofs are taken from the omnipotence and goodness of God, the long life of the patriarchs, the translation of Enoch and Elijah, the preservation of Jonah and of the three men in the fiery furnace, the essential nature of man as a temple of God to which the body also belongs, and the resurrection of Christ (V. 3-7). But Irenæus sees the chief proof in the incarnation of Christ, in the dwelling of the Spirit with its gifts in us (V. 8-16), and in the feeding of our body with the holy eucharist (V. 2. 3). Then he discusses the defeat of Satan by Christ (V. 21-23), shows that the powers that be are set up by God, that the devil therefore manifestly lies in arrogating to himself the lordship of the world (V. 24), but that he acts as a rebel and robber in attempting to make himself master of it. This brings about the transition to Antichrist. The latter is possessed of the whole power of the devil, sums up in himself therefore all sin and wickedness, and pretends to be Lord and God. He is described in accordance with the Apocalypses of Daniel and John as well as according to Matth. XXIV. and 2nd Thessalonians. He is the product of the 4th Kingdom, that is, the Roman empire; but at the same time springs from the tribe of Dan (V. 30. 2), and will take up his abode in Jerusalem etc. The returning Christ will destroy him, and the Christ will come back when 6000 years of the world's history have elapsed; for "in as many days as the world was made, in so many thousands of years will it be ended" (V. 28. 3). The seventh day is then the great world Sabbath, during which Christ will reign with the saints of the first resurrection after the destruction of Antichrist. Irenæus expressly argued against such "as pass for orthodox, but disregard the order of the progress of the righteous and know no stages of preparation for incorruptibility" (V. 31). By this he means such as assume that after death souls immediately pass to God. On the contrary he argues that these rather wait in a hidden place for the resurrection which takes place on the return of Christ, after which the souls receive back their bodies and men now restored participate in the Saviour's Kingdom (V. 31. 2). This Kingdom on earth precedes the universal judgment; "for it is just that they should also receive the fruits of their patience in the same creation in which they suffered tribulation"; moreover, the promise made to Abraham that Palestine would be given to him and to his seed, i.e., the Christians, must be fulfilled (V. 32). There they will eat and drink with the Lord in the restored body (V. 33. 1) sitting at a table covered with food (V. 33. 2) and consuming the produce of the land, which the earth affords in miraculous fruitfulness. Here Irenæus appeals to alleged utterances of the Lord of which he had been informed by Papias (V. 33. 3, 4). The wheat will be so fat that lions lying peacefully beside the cattle will be able to feed themselves even on the chaff (V. 33. 3, 4). Such and similar promises are everywhere to be understood in a literal sense. Irenæus here expressly argues against any figurative interpretation (ibid, and V. 35). He therefore adopted the whole Jewish eschatology, the only difference being that he regards the Church as the seed of Abraham. The earthly Kingdom is then followed by the second resurrection, the general judgment, and the final end.] [Footnote 625: Hippolytus in the lost book [Greek: hyper tou kata Iôannên euangeliou kai apokalupseôs]. Perhaps we may also reckon Melito among the literary defenders of Chiliasm.] [Footnote 626: See Epiph., H. 51, who here falls back on Hippolytus.] [Footnote 627: In the Christian village communities of the district of Arsinoe the people would not part with chiliasm, and matters even went the length of an "apostasy" from the Alexandrian Church. A book by an Egyptian bishop, Nepos, entitled "Refutation of the allegorists" attained the highest repute. "They esteem the law and the prophets as nothing, neglect to follow the Gospels, think little of the Epistles of the Apostles, and on the contrary declare the doctrine set forth in this book to be a really great secret. They do not permit the simpler brethren among us to obtain a sublime and grand idea of the glorious and truly divine appearance of our Lord, of our resurrection from the dead as well as of the union and assimilation with him; but they persuade us to hope for things petty, perishable, and similar to the present in the kingdom of God." So Dionysius expressed himself, and these words are highly characteristic of his own position and that of his opponents; for in fact the whole New Testament could not but be thrust into the background in cases where the chiliastic hopes were really adhered to. Dionysius asserts that he convinced these Churches by his lectures; but chiliasm and material religious ideas were still long preserved in the deserts of Egypt. They were cherished by the monks; hence Jewish Apocalypses accepted by Christians are preserved in the Coptic and Ethiopian languages.] [Footnote 628: See Irenæus lib. IV. and Tertull. adv. Marc. lib. II. and III.] [Footnote 629: It would be superfluous to quote passages here; two may stand for all Iren. IV. 9. 1: "Utraque testamenta unus et idem paterfamilias produxit, verbum dei, dominus noster Iesus Christus, qui et Abrahæ et Moysi collocutus est." Both Testaments are "unius et emsdem substantiæ." IV. 2. 3: "Moysis literæ sunt verba Christi."] [Footnote 630: See Iren. IV. 31. 1.] [Footnote 631: Iren. III. 12. 15 (on Gal. II. 11 f.): "Sic apostoli, quos universi actus et universæ doctrinæ dominus testes fecit, religiose agebant circa dispositionem legis, qnæ; est secundum Moysem, ab uno et eodem significantes esse deo"; see Overbeck "Ueber die Auffassung des Streits des Paulus mit Petrus bei den Kirchenvatern," 1877, p. 8 f. Similar remarks are frequent in Irenæus.] [Footnote 632: Cf., e.g., de monog. 7: "Certe sacerdotes sumus a Christo vocati, monogarniæ debitores, ex pristina dei lege, quæ nos tune in suis sacerdotibus prophetavit." Here also Tertullian's Montanism had an effect. Though conceiving the directions of the Paraclete as _new legislation_, the Montanists would not renounce the view that these laws were in some way already indicated in the written documents of revelation.] [Footnote 633: Very much may be made out with regard to this from Origen's works and the later literature, particularly from Commodian and the Apostolic Constitutions, lib. I.-VI.] [Footnote 634: Where Christians needed the proof from prophecy or indulged in a devotional application of the Old Testament, everything indeed remained as before, and every Old Testament passage was taken for a Christian one, as has remained the case even to the present day.] [Footnote 635: With the chiliastic view of history this newly acquired theory has nothing in common.] [Footnote 636: Iren. III. 12. 11.] [Footnote 637: See III. 12. 12.] [Footnote 638: No _commutatio agnitionis_ takes place, says Irenæus, but only an increased gift (IV. 11. 3); for the knowledge of God the Creator is "principium evangelli." (III. 11. 7).] [Footnote 639: See IV. 11. 2 and other passages, e.g., IV. 20 7: IV. 26. 1: IV. 37. 7: IV. 38. 1-4.] [Footnote 640: Several covenants I. 10. 3; four covenants (Adam, Noah, Moses, Christ) III. II. 8; the two Testaments (Law and New Covenant) are very frequently mentioned.] [Footnote 641: This is very frequently mentioned; see e.g., IV. 13. 1: "Et quia dominus naturalia legis, per quæ homo iustificatur, quæ etiam ante legisdationem custodiebant qui fide iustificabantur et placebant deo non dissolvit etc." IV. 15, 1.] [Footnote 642: Irenæus, as a rule, views the patriarchs as perfect saints; see III. II. 8: "Verbum dei illis quidem qui ante Moysem fuerunt patriarchis secundum divinitatem et gloriam colloquebatur", and especially IV. 16. 3. As to the Son's having descended from the beginning and having thus appeared to the patriarchs also, see IV. 6. 7. Not merely Abraham but all the other exponents of revelation knew both the Father and the Son. Nevertheless Christ was also obliged to descend to the lower world to the righteous, the prophets, and the patriarchs, in order to bring them forgiveness of sins (IV. 27. 2).] [Footnote 643: On the contrary he agrees with the teachings of a presbyter, whom he frequently quotes in the 4th Book. To Irenæus the heathen are simply idolaters who have even forgotten the law written in the heart; wherefore the Jews stand much higher, for they only lacked the _agnitio filii_. See III. 5. 3: III. 10. 3: III. 12. 7, IV. 23, 24. Yet there is still a great want of clearness here. Irenæus cannot get rid of the following contradictions. The pre-Christian righteous know the Son and do not know him; they require the appearance of the Son and do not require it; and the _agnitio filii_ seems sometimes a new, and in fact the decisive, _veritas_, and sometimes that involved in the knowledge of God the Creator.] [Footnote 644: Irenæus IV. 16. 3. See IV. 15. 1: "Decalogum si quis non fecerit, non habet salutem".] [Footnote 645: As the Son has manifested the Father from of old, so also the law, and indeed even the ceremonial law, is to be traced back to him. See IV. 6. 7: IV. 12. 4: IV. 14. 2: "his qui inquieti erant in eremo dans aptissimam legem ... per omnes transiens verbum omni conditioni congruentem et aptam legem conscribens". IV. 4. 2. The law is a law of bondage; it was just in that capacity that it was necessary; see IV. 4. 1: IV. 9. 1: IV. 13. 2, 4: IV. 14. 3: IV. 15: IV. 16: IV. 32: IV. 36. A part of the commandments are concessions on account of hardness of heart (IV. 15. 2). But Irenæus still distinguishes very decidedly between the "people" and the prophets. This is a survival of the old view. The prophets he said knew very well of the coming of the Son of God and the granting of a new covenant (IV. 9. 3: IV. 20. 4, 5: IV. 33. 10); they understood what was typified by the ceremonial law, and to them accordingly the law had only a typical signification. Moreover, Christ himself came to them ever and anon through the prophetic spirit. The preparation for the new covenant is therefore found in the prophets and in the typical character of the old. Abraham has this peculiarity, that both Testaments were prefigured in him: the Testament of faith, because he was justified before his circumcision, and the Testament of the law. The latter occupied "the middle times", and therefore come in between (IV. 25. 1). This is a Pauline thought, though otherwise indeed there is not much in Irenæus to remind us of Paul, because he used the moral categories, _growth_ and _training_, instead of the religious ones, _sin_ and _grace_.] [Footnote 646: The law, i.e., the ceremonial law, reaches down to John, IV. 4. 2. The New Testament is a law of freedom, because through it we are adopted as sons of God, III. 5. 3: III. 10. 5: III. 12. 5: III. 12. 14: III. 15. 3: IV. 9. 1, 2: IV. 11. 1: IV. 13. 2, 4: IV. 15. 1, 2: IV. 16. 5: IV. 18: IV. 32: IV. 34. 1: IV. 36. 2. Christ did not abolish the _natus alia legis_, the Decalogue, but extended and fulfilled them; here the old Gentile-Christian moral conception based on the Sermon on the Mount, prevails. Accordingly Irenæus now shows that in the case of the children of freedom the situation has become much more serious, and that the judgments are now much more threatening. Finally, he proves that the fulfilling, extending, and sharpening of the law form a contrast to the blunting of the natural moral law by the Pharisees and elders; see IV. 12. 1 ff.: "Austero dei præcepto miscent seniores aquatam traditionem". IV. 13. 1. f.: "Christus naturalia legis (which are summed up in the commandment of love) extendit et implevit ... plenitudo et extensio ... necesse fuit, auferri quidem vincula servitutis, superextendi vero decreta libertatis". That is proved in the next passage from the Sermon on the Mount: we must not only refrain from evil works, but also from evil desire. IV. 16. 5: "Hæc ergo, quæ in servitutem et in signum data sunt illis, circumscripsit novo libertatis testamento. Quæ autem naturalia et liberalia et communia omnium, auxit et dilatavit, sine invidia largiter donans hominibus per adoptionem, patrem scire deum ... auxit autem etiam timorem: filios enim plus timere oportet quam servos". IV. 27. 2. The new situation is a more serious one; the Old Testament believers have the death of Christ as an antidote for their sins, "propter eos vero, qui nunc peccant, Christus non iam morietur". IV. 28. 1 f.: under the old covenant God punished "typice et temporaliter et mediocrius", under the new, on the contrary, "vere et semper et austerius" ... as under the new covenant "fides aucta est", so also it is true that "diligentia conversationis adaucta est". The imperfections of the law, the "particularia legis", the law of bondage have been abolished by Christ, see specially IV. 16, 17, for the types are now fulfilled; but Christ and the Apostles did not transgress the law; freedom was first granted to the Gentile Christians (III. 12) and circumcision and foreskin united (III. 5. 3). But Irenæus also proved how little the old and new covenants contradict each other by showing that the latter also contains concessions that have been granted to the frailty of man; see IV. 15. 2 (1 Cor. VII.).] [Footnote 647: See III. II. 4. There too we find it argued that John the Baptist was not merely a prophet, but also an Apostle.] [Footnote 648: From Irenæus' statement in IV. 4 about the significance of the city of Jerusalem we can infer what he thought of the Jewish nation. Jerusalem is to him the vine-branch on which the fruit has grown; the latter having reached maturity, the branch is cut off and has no further importance.] [Footnote 649: No special treatment of Tertullian is required here, as he only differs from Irenæus in the additions he invented as a Montanist. Yet this is also prefigured in Irenæus' view that the concessions of the Apostles had rendered the execution of the stern new law more easy. A few passages may be quoted here. De orat. I: "Quidquid retro fuerat, aut demutatum est (per Christum), ut circumcisio, aut suppletum ut reliqua lex, aut impletum ut prophetia, aut perfectum ut fides ipsa. Omnia de carnalibus in spiritalia renovavit nova dei gratia superducto evangelio, expunctore totius retro vetustatis." (This differentiation strikingly reminds us of the letter of Ptolemy to Flora. Ptolemy distinguishes those parts of the law that originate with God, Moses, and the elders. As far as the divine law is concerned, he again distinguishes what Christ had to complete, what he had to supersede and what he had to spiritualise, that is, perficere, solvere, demutare). In the _regula fidei_ (de præscr. 13): "Christus prædicavit novam legem et novam promissionem regni coelorum"; see the discussions in adv. Marc. II., III., and adv. Iud.; de pat. 6: "amplianda adimplendaque lex." Scorp. 3, 8, 9; ad uxor. 2; de monog. 7: "Et quoniam quidam interdum nihil sihi dicunt esse cum lege, quam Christus non dissolvit, sed adimplevit, interdum quæ volunt legis arripiunt (he himself did that continually), plane et nos sic dicimus legem, ut onera quidem eius, secundum sententiam apostolorum, quæ nec patres sustinere valuerunt, concesserint, quæ vero ad iustitiam spectant, non tantum reservata permaneant, verum et ampliata." That the new law of the new covenant is the moral law of nature in a stricter form, and that the concessions of the Apostle Paul cease in the age of the Paraclete, is a view we find still more strongly emphasised in the Montanist writings than in Irenæus. In ad uxor. 3 Tertullian had already said: "Quod permittitur, bonum non est," and this proposition is the theme of many arguments in the Montanist writings. But the intention of finding a basis for the laws of the Paraclete, by showing that they existed in some fashion even in earlier times, involved Tertullian in many contradictions. It is evident from his writings that Montanists and Catholics in Carthage alternately reproached each other with judaising tendencies and an apostasy to heathen discipline and worship. Tertullian, in his enthusiasm for Christianity, came into conflict with all the authorities which he himself had set up. In the questions as to the relationship of the Old Testament to the New, of Christ to the Apostles, of the Apostles to each other, of the Paraclete to Christ and the Apostles, he was also of necessity involved in the greatest contradictions. This was the case not only because he went more into details than Irenæus; but, above all, because the chains into which he had thrown his Christianity were felt to be such by himself. This theologian had no greater opponent than himself, and nowhere perhaps is this so plain as in his attitude to the two Testaments. Here, in every question of detail, Tertullian really repudiated the proposition from which he starts. In reference to one point, namely, that the Law and the prophets extend down to John, see Noldechen's article in the Zeitschrift fur wissenschaftliche Theologie, 1885, p. 333 f. On the one hand, in order to support certain trains of thought, Tertullian required the proposition that prophecy extended down to John (see also the Muratorian Fragment: "completus numerus prophetarum", Sibyll. I. 386: [Greek: kai tote dê pausis estai metepeita prophêtôu], scil. after Christ), and on the other, as a Montanist, he was obliged to assert the continued existence of prophecy. In like manner he sometimes ascribed to the Apostles a unique possession of the Holy Spirit, and at other times, adhering to a primitive Christian idea, he denied this thesis. Cf. also Baith "Tertullian's Auffassung des Apostels Paulus und seines Verhaltnisses zu den Uraposteln" (Jahrbuch fur protestantische Theologie, Vol. III. p. 706 ff.). Tertullian strove to reconcile the principles of early Christianity with the authority of ecclesiastical tradition and philosophical apologetics. Separated from the general body of the Church, and making ever increasing sacrifices for the early-Christian enthusiasm, as he understood it, he wasted himself in the solution of this insoluble problem.] [Footnote 650: In addition to this, however, they definitely established within the Church the idea that there is a "Christian" view in all spheres of life and in all questions of knowledge. Christianity appears expanded to an immense, immeasurable breadth. This is also Gnosticism. Thus Tertullian, after expressing various opinions about dreams, opens the 45th chapter of his work "de anima" with the words: "Tenemur hie de sommis quoque Christianam sententiam expromere". Alongside of the antignostic rule of faith as the "doctrine" we find the casuistic system of morality and penance (the Church "disciplina") with its media of almsgiving, fasting, and prayer; see Cypr, de op et eleemos., but before that Hippol., Comm. in Daniel ([Greek: Ekkl Alêth]. 1886, p. 242): [Greek: hoi eis tu onoma ton Theou pisteuontes kai di' agathoergias to prosôpon autou exilaskomenoi.]] [Footnote 651: In the case of Irenæus, Hippolytus, and Tertullian we already find that they observe a certain order and sequence of books when advancing a detailed proof from Scripture.] [Footnote 652: It is worthy of note that there was not a single Arian ecclesiastic of note in the Novatian churches of the 4th century, so far as we know. All Novatian's adherents, even those in the West (see Socrates' Ecclesiastical History), were of the orthodox Nicæan type. This furnishes material for reflection.] [Footnote 653: Owing to the importance of the matter we shall give several Christological and trinitarian disquisitions from the work "de trinitate". The archaic attitude of this Christology and trinitarian doctrine is evident from the following considerations. (1) Like Tertullian, Novatian asserts that the Logos was indeed always with the Father, but that he only went forth from him at a definite period of time (for the purpose of creating the world). (2) Like Tertullian, he declares that Father, Son, and Spirit have one substance (that is, are [Greek: homoousioi], the _homoousia_ of itself never decides as to equality in dignity); but that the Son is subordinate and obedient to the Father and the Spirit to the Son (cc. 17, 22, 24), since they derive their origin, essence, and function from the Father (the Spirit from the Son). (3) Like Tertullian, Novatian teaches that the Son, after accomplishing his work, will again become intermingled with the Father, that is, will cease to have an independent existence (c. 31); whence we understand why the West continued so long to be favourable to Marcellus of Ancyra; see also the so-called symbol of Sardika. Apart from these points and a few others of less consequence, the work, in its formulæ, exhibits a type which remained pretty constant in the West down to the time of Augustine, or, till the adoption of Johannes Damascenus' dogmatic. The sharp distinction between "deus" and "homo" and the use that is nevertheless made of "permixtio" and synonymous words are also specially characteristic. Cap. 9: "Christus deus dominus deus noster, sed dei filius"; c. 11: "non sic de substantia corporis ipsius exprimimus, ut solum tantum hominem illum esse dicamus, sed ut divinitate sermonis in ipsa concretione permixta etiam deum illum teneamus"; c. 11 Christ has _auctoritas divina_, "tam enim scriptura etiam deum adnuntiat Christum, quam etiam ipsum hominem adnuntiat deum, tam hominem descripsit Iesum Christum, quam etiam deum quoque descripsit Christum dominum." In c. 12 the term "Immanuel" is used to designate Christ as God in a way that reminds one of Athanasius; c. 13: "præsertim cum animadvertat, scripturam evangelicam utramque istam substantiam in unam nativitatis Christi foederasse concordiam"; c. 14: "Christus ex verbi et carnis coniunctione concretus"; c. 16: "... ut neque homo Christo subtrahatur, neque divinitas negetur ... utrumque in Christo confoederatum est, utrumque coniunctum est et utrumque connexum est ... pignerata in illo divinitatis et humilitatis videtur esse concordia ... qui mediator dei et hominum effectus exprimitur, in se deum et hominem sociasse reperitur ... nos sermonem dei scimus indutum carnis substantiam ... lavit substantiam corporis et materiam carnis abluens, ex parte suscepti hominis, passione"; c. 17: "... nisi quoniam auctoritas divini verbi ad suscipiendum hominem interim conquiescens nec se suis viribus exercens, deiicit se ad tempus atque deponit, dum hominem fert, quem suscepit"; c. 18: "... ut in semetipso concordiam confibularet terrenorum pariter atque cælestium, dum utriusque partis in se connectens pignora et deum homini et hominem deo copularet, ut merito filius dei per assumptionem carnis filius hominis et filius hominis per receptionem dei verbi filius dei effici possit"; c. 19: "hic est enim legitimus dei filius qui ex ipso deo est, qui, dum sanctum illud (Luke I. 35) assumit, sibi filium hominis annectit et illum ad se rapit atque transducit, connexione sua et permixtione sociata præstat et filium illum dei facit, quod ille naturaliter non fuit (Novatian's teaching is therefore like that of the Spanish Adoptionists of the 8th century), ut principalitas nominis istius 'filius dei' in spiritu sit domini, qui descendit et venit, ut sequela nominis istius in filio dei et hominis sit, et merito consequenter his filius dei factus sit, dum non principaliter filius dei est, atque ideo dispositionem istam anhelus videns et ordinem istum sacramenti expediens non sic cuncta confundens, ut nullum vestigium distinctionis collocavit, distinctionem posuit dicendo. 'Propterea et quod nascetur ex te sanctum vocabitur filius dei'. Ne si distributionem istam cum libramentis suis non dispensasset, sed in confuso permixtum reliquisset, vere occasionem hæreticis contulisset, ut hominis filium qua homo est, eundum et dei et hominis filium pronuntiare deberent.... Filius dei, dum filium hominis in se suscepit, consequenter illum filium dei fecit, quoniam illum filius sibi dei sociavit et iunxit, ut, dum filius hominis adhæret in nativitate filio dei, ipsa permixtionem foeneratum et mutuatum teneret, quod ex natura propria possidere non posset. Ac si facta est angeli voce, quod nolunt hæretici, inter filium dei hominisque cum sua tamen sociatione distinctio, urgendo illos, uti Christum hominis filium hominem intelligant quoque dei filium et hominem dei filium id est dei verbum deum accipiant, atque ideo Christum Iesum dominum ex utroque connexum, et utroque contextum atque concretum et in eadem utriusque substantiæ concordia mutui ad invicem foederis confibulatione sociatum, hominem et deum, scripturæ hoc ipsum dicentis veritate cognoscant". c. 21: "hæretici nolunt Christum secundam esse personam post patrem, sed ipsum patrem;" c. 22: "Cum Christus 'Ego' dicit (John X. 30), deinde patrem infert dicendo, 'Ego et pater', proprietatem personæ suæ id est filii a paterna auctoritate discernit atque distinguit, non tantummodo de sono nominis, sed etiam de ordine dispositæ potestatis ... unum enim neutraliter positum, societatis concordiam, non unitatem personæ sonat ... unum autem quod ait, ad concordiam et eandem sententiam et ad ipsam charitatis societatem pertinet, ut merito unum sit pater et filius per concordiam et per amorem et per dilectionem. Et quoniam ex patre est, quicquid illud est, filius est, manente tamen distinctione ... denique novit hanc concordiæ unitatem est apostolus Paulus cum personarum tamen distinctione." (Comparison with the relationship between Paul and Apollos! "Quos personæ ratio invicem dividit, eosdem rursus invicem religionis ratio conducit; et quamvis idem atque ipsi non sint, dum idem sentiunt, ipsum sunt, et cum duo sint, unum sunt"); c. 23: "constat hominem a deo factum esse, non ex deo processisse; ex deo autem homo quomodo nou processit, sic dei verbum processit". In c. 24 it is argued that Christ existed before the creation of the world and that not merely "predestinatione", for then he would be subsequent and therefore inferior to Adam, Abel, Enoch etc. "Sublata ergo prædestinatione quæ non est posita, in substantia fuit Christus ante mundi institutionem"; c. 31: "Est ergo deus pater omnium institutor et creator, solus originem nesciens(!), invisibilis, immensus, immortalis, æternus, unus deus(!), ... ex quo quando ipse voluit, sermo filius natus est, qui non in sono percussi aeris aut tono coactæ de visceribus vocis accipitur, sed in substantia prolatæ a deo virtutis agnoscitur, cuius sacræ et divinas nativitatis arcana nec apostolus didicit ..., filio soli nota sunt, qui patris secreta cognovit. Hic ergo cum sit genitus a patre, semper est in patre. Semper autem sic dico, ut non innatum, sed natum probem; sed qui ante omne tempus est, semper in patre fuisse discendus est, nec enim tempus illi assignari potest, qui ante tempus est; semper enim in patre, ne pater non semper sit pater: quia et pater illum etiam præcedit, quod necesse est, prior sit qua pater sit. Quoniam antecedat necesse est eum, qui habet originem, ille qui originem nescit. Simul ut hic minor sit, dum in illo esse se scit habens originem quia nascitur, et per patrem quamvis originem habet qua nascitur, vicinus in nativitate, dum ex eo patre, qui solus originem non habet, nascitur ..., substantia scilicet divina, cuius nomen est verbum ..., deus utique procedens ex deo secundam personam efficiens, sed non eripiens illud patri quod unus est deus.... Cuius sic divinitas traditur, ut non aut dissonantia aut inæqualitate divinitatis duos deos reddidisse videatur.... Dum huic, qui est deus, omnia substrata traduntur et cuncta sibi subiecta filius accepta refert patri, totam divinitatis auctoritatem rursus patri remittit, unus deus ostenditur verus et æternus pater, a quo solo hæc vis divinitatis emissa, etiam in filium tradita et directa rursus per substantiæ; communionem ad patrem revolvitur."] [Footnote 654: If I am not mistaken, the production or adaptation of Apocalypses did indeed abate in the third century, but acquired fresh vigour in the 4th, though at the same time allowing greater scope to the influence of heathen literature (including romances as well as hagiographical literature).] [Footnote 655: I did not care to appeal more frequently to the Sibylline oracles either in this or the preceding chapter, because the literary and historical investigation of these writings has not yet made such progress as to justify one in using it for the history of dogma. It is well known that the oracles contain rich materials in regard to the doctrine of God, Christology, conceptions of the history of Jesus, and eschatology; but, apart from the old Jewish oracles, this material belongs to several centuries and has not yet been reliably sifted.] CHAPTER VI. THE TRANSFORMATION OF THE ECCLESIASTICAL TRADITION INTO A PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION, OR THE ORIGIN OF THE SCIENTIFIC THEOLOGY AND DOGMATIC OF THE CHURCH. Clement and Origen. The Alexandrian school of catechists was of inestimable importance for the transformation of the heathen empire into a Christian one, and of Greek philosophy into ecclesiastical philosophy. In the third century this school overthrew polytheism by scientific means whilst at the same time preserving everything of any value in Greek science and culture. These Alexandrians wrote for the educated people of the whole earth; they made Christianity a part of the civilisation of the world. The saying that the Christian missionary to the Greeks must be a Greek was first completely verified within the Catholic Church in the person of Origen, who at the same time produced the only system of Christian dogma possessed by the Greek Church before John Damascenus. 1. _The Alexandrian Catechetical School. Clement of Alexandria._[656] "The work of Irenæus still leaves it undecided whether the form of the world's literature, as found in the Christian Church, is destined only to remain a weapon to combat its enemies, or is to become an instrument of peaceful labour within its own territory." With these words Overbeck has introduced his examination of Clement of Alexandria's great masterpiece from the standpoint of the historian of literature. They may be also applied to the history of theology. As we have shown, Irenæus, Tertullian (and Hippolytus) made use of philosophical theology to expel heretical elements; but all the theological expositions that this interest suggested to them as necessary, were in their view part of the faith itself. At least we find in their works absolutely no clear expression of the fact that faith is one thing and theology another, though rudimentary indications of such distinctions are found. Moreover, their adherence to the early-Christian eschatology in its entirety, as well as their rejection of a qualitative distinction between simple believers and "Gnostics," proved that they themselves were deceived as to the scope of their theological speculations, and that moreover their Christian interest was virtually satisfied with subjection to the authority of tradition, with the early-Christian hopes, and with the rules for a holy life. But since about the time of Commodus, and in some cases even earlier, we can observe, even in ecclesiastical circles, the growing independence and might of the aspiration for a scientific knowledge and treatment of the Christian religion, that is of Christian tradition.[657] There is a wish to maintain this tradition in its entirety and hence the Gnostic theses are rejected. The selection from tradition, made in opposition to Gnosticism--though indeed in accordance with its methods--and declared to be apostolic, is accepted. But there is a desire to treat the given material in a strictly scientific manner, just as the Gnostics had formerly done, that is, on the one hand to establish it by a critical and historical exegesis, and on the other to give it a philosophical form and bring it into harmony with the spirit of the times. Along with this we also find the wish to incorporate the thoughts of Paul which now possessed divine authority.[658] Accordingly schools and scholastic unions now make their appearance afresh, the old schools having been expelled from the Church.[659] In Asia Minor such efforts had already begun shortly before the time when the canon of holy apostolic tradition was fixed by the ecclesiastical authorities (Alogi). From the history of Clement of Alexandria, the life of bishop Alexander, afterwards bishop of Jerusalem, and subsequently from the history of Origen (we may also mention Firmilian of Cæsarea), we learn that there was in Cappadocia about the year 200 a circle of ecclesiastics who zealously applied themselves to scientific pursuits. Bardesanes, a man of high repute, laboured in the Christian kingdom of Edessa about the same time. He wrote treatises on philosophical theology, which indeed, judged by a Western standard, could not be accounted orthodox, and directed a theological school which maintained its ground in the third century and attained great importance.[660] In Palestine, during the time of Heliogabalus and Alexander (Severus), Julius Africanus composed a series of books on scientific theology, which were specifically different from the writings of Irenæus and Tertullian; but which on the other hand show the closest relationship in point of form to the treatises of the so-called Gnostics. His inquiries into the relationship of the genealogies of Jesus and into certain parts of the Greek Apocalypse of Daniel showed that the Church's attention had been drawn to problems of historical criticism. In his chronography the apologetic interest is subordinate to the historical, and in his [Greek: Kestoi], dedicated to Alexander Severus (Hippolytus had already dedicated a treatise on the resurrection to the wife of Heliogabalus), we see fewer traces of the Christian than of the Greek scholar. Alexander of Ælia and Theoktistus of Cæsarea, the occupants of the two most important sees in Palestine, were, contemporaneously with him, zealous patrons of an independent science of theology. Even at that early time the former founded an important theological library; and the fragments of his letters preserved to us prove that he had caught not only the language, but also the scientific spirit of the age. In Rome, at the beginning of the third century, there was a scientific school where textual criticism of the Bible was pursued and where the works of Aristotle, Theophrastus, Euclid, and Galen were zealously read and utilised. Finally, the works of Tertullian show us that, even among the Christians of Carthage, there was no lack of such as wished to naturalise the pursuit of science within the Church; and Eusebius (H. E. V. 27) has transmitted to us the titles of a series of scientific works dating as far back as the year 200 and ascribed to ecclesiastics of that period. Whilst all these phenomena, which collectively belong to the close of the second and beginning of the third century, show that it was indeed possible to suppress heresy in the Church, but not the impulse from which it sprang, the most striking proof of this conclusion is the existence of the so-called school of catechists in Alexandria. We cannot now trace the origin of this school, which first comes under our notice in the year 190,[661] but we know that the struggle of the Church with heresy was concluded in Alexandria at a later period than in the West. We know further that the school of catechists extended its labours to Palestine and Cappadocia as early as the year 200, and, to all appearance, originated or encouraged scientific pursuits there.[662] Finally, we know that the existence of this school was threatened in the fourth decade of the third century; but Heraclas was shrewd enough to reconcile the ecclesiastical and scientific interests.[663] In the Alexandrian school of catechists the whole of Greek science was taught and made to serve the purpose of Christian apologetics. Its first teacher, who is well known to us from the writings he has left, is _Clement of Alexandria_.[664] His main work is epoch-making. "Clement's intention is nothing less than an introduction to Christianity, or, speaking more correctly and in accordance with the spirit of his work, an initiation into it. The task that Clement sets himself is an introduction to what is inmost and highest in Christianity itself. He aims, so to speak, at first making Christians perfect Christians by means of a work of literature. By means of such a work he wished not merely to repeat to the Christian what life has already done for him as it is, but to elevate him to something still higher than what has been revealed to him by the forms of initiation that the Church has created for herself in the course of a history already dating back a century and a half." To Clement therefore Gnosis, that is, the (Greek) philosophy of religion, is not only a means of refuting heathenism and heresy, but at the same time of ascertaining and setting forth what is highest and inmost in Christianity. He views it as such, however, because, apart from evangelical sayings, the Church tradition, both collectively and in its details, is something foreign to him; he has subjected himself to its authority, but he can only make it intellectually his own after subjecting it to a scientific and philosophical treatment.[665] His great work, which has rightly been called the boldest literary undertaking in the history of the Church,[666] is consequently the first attempt to use Holy Scripture and the Church tradition together with the assumption that Christ as the Reason of the world is the source of all truth, as the basis of a presentation of Christianity which at once addresses itself to the cultured by satisfying the scientific demand for a philosophical ethic and theory of the world, and at the same time reveals to the believer the rich content of his faith. Here then is found, in form and content, the scientific Christian doctrine of religion which, while not contradicting the faith, does not merely support or explain it in a few places, but raises it to another and higher intellectual sphere, namely, out of the province of authority and obedience into that of clear knowledge and inward, intellectual assent emanating from love to God.[667] Clement cannot imagine that the Christian faith, as found in tradition, can of itself produce the union of intellectual independence and devotion to God which he regards as moral perfection. He is too much of a Greek philosopher for that, and believes that this aim is only reached through knowledge. But in so far as this is only the deciphering of the secrets revealed in the Holy Scriptures through the Logos, secrets which the believer also gains possession of by subjecting himself to them, all knowledge is a reflection of the divine revelation. The lofty ethical and religious ideal of the man made perfect in fellowship with God, which Greek philosophy had developed since the time of Plato and to which it had subordinated the whole scientific knowledge of the world, was adopted and heightened by Clement, and associated not only with Jesus Christ but also with ecclesiastical Christianity. But, whilst connecting it with the Church tradition, he did not shrink from the boldest remodelling of the latter, because the preservation of its wording was to him a sufficient guarantee of the Christian character of the speculation.[668] In Clement, then, ecclesiastical Christianity reached the stage that Judaism had attained in Philo, and no doubt the latter exercised great influence over him.[669] Moreover, Clement stands on the ground that Justin had already trodden, but he has advanced far beyond this Apologist. His superiority to Justin not only consists in the fact that he changed the apologetic task that the latter had in his mind into a systematic and positive one; but above all in the circumstance that he transformed the tradition of the Christian Church, which in his days was far more extensive and more firmly established than in Justin's time, into a real scientific dogmatic; whereas Justin neutralised the greater part of this tradition by including it in the scheme of the proof from prophecy. By elevating the idea of the Logos who is Christ into the highest principle in the religious explanation of the world and in the exposition of Christianity, Clement gave to this idea a much more concrete and copious content than Justin did. Christianity is the doctrine of the creation, training, and redemption of mankind by the Logos, whose work culminates in the perfect Gnostics. The philosophy of the Greeks, in so far as it possessed the Logos, is declared to be a counterpart of the Old Testament law;[670] and the facts contained in the Church tradition are either subordinated to the philosophical dogmatic or receive a new interpretation expressly suited to it. The idea of the Logos has a content which is on the one hand so wide that he is found wherever man rises above the level of nature, and on the other so concrete that an authentic knowledge of him can only be obtained from historical revelation. The Logos is essentially the rational law of the world and the teacher; but in Christ he is at the same time officiating priest, and the blessings he bestows are a series of holy initiations which alone contain the possibility of man's raising himself to the divine life.[671] While this is already clear evidence of Clement's affinity to Gnostic teachers, especially the Valentinians, the same similarity may also be traced in the whole conception of the task (Christianity as theology), in the determination of the formal principle (inclusive of the recourse to esoteric tradition; see above, p. 35 f.),[672] and in the solution of the problems. But Clement's great superiority to Valentinus is shown not only in his contriving to preserve in all points his connection with the faith of the main body of Christendom, but still more in his power of mastering so many problems by the aid of a single principle, that is, in the art of giving the most comprehensive presentation with the most insignificant means. Both facts are indeed most closely connected. The rejection of all conceptions that could not be verified from Holy Scripture, or at least easily reconciled with it, as well as his optimism, opposed as this was to Gnostic pessimism, proved perhaps the most effective means of persuading the Church to recognise the Christian character of a dogmatic that was at least half inimical to ecclesiastical Christianity. Through Clement theology became the crowning stage of piety, the highest philosophy of the Greeks was placed under the protection and guarantee of the Church, and the whole Hellenic civilisation was thus at the same time legitimised within Christianity. The Logos is Christ, but the Logos is at the same time the moral and rational in all stages of development. The Logos is the teacher, not only in cases where an intelligent self-restraint, as understood by the ancients, bridles the passions and instincts and wards off excesses of all sorts; but also, and here of course the revelation is of a higher kind, wherever love to God alone determines the whole life and exalts man above everything sensuous and finite.[673] What Gnostic moralists merely regarded as contrasts Clement, the Christian and Greek, was able to view as stages; and thus he succeeded in conceiving the motley society that already represented the Church of his time as a unity, as the humanity trained by one and the same Logos, the Pedagogue. His speculation did not drive him out of the Church; it rather enabled him to understand the multiplicity of forms she contained and to estimate their relative justification; nay, it finally led him to include the history of pre-Christian humanity in the system he regarded as a unity, and to form a theory of universal history satisfactory to his mind.[674] If we compare this theory with the rudimentary ideas of a similar kind in Irenæus, we see clearly the meagreness and want of freedom, the uncertainty and narrowness, in the case of the latter. In the Christian faith as he understood it and as amalgamated by him with Greek culture, Clement found intellectual freedom and independence, deliverance from all external authority. We need not here directly discuss what apparatus he used for this end. Irenæus again remained entangled in his apparatus, and much as he speaks of the _novum testamentum libertatis_, his great work little conveys the impression that its author has really attained intellectual freedom. Clement was the first to grasp the task of future theology. According to him this task consists in utilising the historical traditions, through which we have become what we are, and the Christian communion, which is imperative upon us as being the only moral and religious one, in order to attain freedom and independence of our own life by the aid of the Gospel; and in showing this Gospel to be the highest revelation by the Logos, who has given evidence of himself whenever man rises above the level of nature and who is consequently to be traced throughout the whole history of humanity. But does the Christianity of Clement correspond to the Gospel? We can only give a qualified affirmation to this question. For the danger of secularisation is evident, since apostasy from the Gospel would be completely accomplished as soon as the ideal of the self-sufficient Greek sage came to supplant the feeling that man lives by the grace of God. But the danger of secularisation lies in the cramped conception of Irenæus, who sets up authorities which have nothing to do with the Gospel, and creates facts of salvation which have a no less deadening effect though in a different way. If the Gospel is meant to give freedom and peace in God, and to accustom us to an eternal life in union with Christ Clement understood this meaning. He could justly say to his opponents: "If the things we say appear to some people diverse from the Scriptures of the Lord, let them know that they draw inspiration and life therefrom and, making these their starting-point give their meaning only, not their letter" ([Greek: kan heteroia tisi tôn pollôn kataphainêtai ta hyph' hêmôn legomena tôn kyriakôn graphôn, isteon hoti ekeithen anapnei te kai zê kai tas aphormas ap' autôn echonta ton noun monon, ou tên lexin, paristan epangelletai]).[675] No doubt Clement conceives the aim of the whole traditionary material to be that of Greek philosophy, but we cannot fail to perceive that this aim is blended with the object which the Gospel puts before us, namely, to be rich in God and to receive strength and life from him. The goodness of God and the responsibility of man are the central ideas of Clement and the Alexandrians; they also occupy the foremost place in the Gospel of Jesus Christ. If this is certain we must avoid that searching of the heart which undertakes to fix how far he was influenced by the Gospel and how far by philosophy. But, while so judging, we cannot deny that the Church tradition was here completely transformed into a Greek philosophy of religion on a historical basis, nor do we certify the Christian character of Clement's "dogmas" in acknowledging the evangelical spirit of his practical position. What would be left of Christianity, if the practical aim, given by Clement to this religious philosophy, were lost? A depotentiated system which could absolutely no longer be called Christian. On the other hand there were many valuable features in the ecclesiastical _regula_ literally interpreted; and the attempts of Irenæus to extract an authoritative religious meaning from the literal sense of Church tradition and of New Testament passages must be regarded as conservative efforts of the most valuable kind. No doubt Irenæus and his theological _confrères_ did not themselves find in Christianity that freedom which is its highest aim; but on the other hand they preserved and rescued valuable material for succeeding times. If some day trust in the methods of religious philosophy vanishes, men will revert to history, which will still be recognisable in the preserved tradition, as prized by Irenæus and the rest, whereas it will have almost perished in the artificial interpretations due to the speculations of religious philosophers. The importance that the Alexandrian school was to attain in the history of dogma is not associated with Clement, but with his disciple Origen.[676] This was not because Clement was more heterodox than Origen, for that is not the case, so far as the Stromateis is concerned at least;[677] but because the latter exerted an incomparably greater influence than the former; and, with an energy perhaps unexampled in the history of the Church, already mapped out all the provinces of theology by his own unaided efforts. Another reason is that Clement did not possess the Church tradition in its fixed Catholic forms as Origen did (see above, chapter 2), and, as his Stromateis shows, he was as yet incapable of forming a theological system. What he offers is portions of a theological Christian dogmatic and speculative ethic. These indeed are no fragments in so far as they are all produced according to a definite method and have the same object in view, but they still want unity. On the other hand Origen succeeded in forming a complete system inasmuch as he not only had a Catholic tradition of fixed limits and definite type to fall back upon as a basis; but was also enabled by the previous efforts of Clement to furnish a methodical treatment of this tradition.[678] Now a sharp eye indeed perceives that Origen personally no longer possessed such a complete and bold religious theory of the world as Clement did, for he was already more tightly fettered by the Church tradition, some details of which here and there led him into compromises that remind us of Irenæus; but it was in connection with his work that the development of the following period took place. It is therefore sufficient, within the framework of the history of dogma, to refer to Clement as the bold forerunner of Origen, and, in setting forth the theology of the latter, to compare it in important points with the doctrines of Clement. 2. _The system of Origen._[679] Among the theologians of ecclesiastical antiquity Origen was the most important and influential alongside of Augustine. He proved the father of ecclesiastical science in the widest sense of the word, and at the same time became the founder of that theology which reached its complete development in the fourth and fifth centuries, and which in the sixth definitely denied its author, without, however, losing the form he had impressed on it. Origen created the ecclesiastical dogmatic and made the sources of the Jewish and Christian religion the foundation of that science. The Apologists, in their day, had found everything clear in Christianity; the antignostic Fathers had confused the Church's faith and the science that treats of it. Origen recognised the problem and the problems, and elevated the pursuit of Christian theology to the rank of an independent task by freeing it from its polemical aim. He could not have become what he did, if two generations had not preceded him in paving the way to form a mental conception of Christianity and give it a philosophical foundation. Like all epoch-making personalities, he was also favoured by the conditions in which he lived, though he had to endure violent attacks. Born of a Christian family which was faithfully attached to the Church, he lived at a time when the Christian communities enjoyed almost uninterrupted peace and were being naturalised in the world; he was a member of a Christian Church where the right of scientific study was already recognised and where this had attained a fixed position in an organised school.[680] He proclaimed the reconciliation of science with the Christian faith and the compatibility of the highest culture with the Gospel within the bosom of the Church, thus contributing more than any other to convert the ancient world to Christianity. But he made no compromises from shrewd calculation: it was his inmost and holiest conviction that the sacred documents of Christianity contained all the ideals of antiquity, and that the speculative conception of ecclesiastical Christianity was the only true and right one. His character was pure, his life blameless; in his work he was not only unwearied, but also unselfish. There have been few Fathers of the Church whose life-story leaves such an impression of purity behind it as that of Origen. The atmosphere which he breathed as a Christian and as a philosopher was dangerous; but his mind remained sound, and even his feeling for truth scarcely ever forsook him.[681] To us his theory of the world, surveyed in its details, presents various changing hues, like that of Philo, and at the present day we can scarcely any longer understand how he was able to unite the different materials; but, considering the solidity of his character and the confidence of his decisions, we cannot doubt that he himself felt the agreement of all essential parts of his system. No doubt he spoke in one way to the perfect and in another to the mass of Christian people. The narrow-minded or the immature will at all times necessarily consider such proceedings hypocrisy, but the outcome of his religious and scientific conception of the world required the twofold language. Orthodox theology of all creeds has never yet advanced beyond the circle first mapped out by his mind. She has suspected and corrected her founder, she has thought she could lop off his heterodox opinions as if they were accidental excrescences, she has incorporated with the simple faith itself the measure of speculation she was obliged to admit, and continued to give the rule of faith a more philosophic form, fragment by fragment, in order that she might thus be able to remove the gap between Faith and Gnosis and to banish free theology through the formula of ecclesiastical dogma. But it may reasonably be questioned whether all this is progress, and it is well worth investigating whether the gap between half theological, clerical Christianity and a lay Christianity held in tutelage is more endurable than that between Gnosis and Pistis, which Origen preserved and bridged over. The Christian system of Origen[682] is worked out in opposition to the systems of the Greek philosophers and of the Christian Gnostics. It is moreover opposed to the ecclesiastical enemies of science, the Christian Unitarians, and the Jews.[683] But the science of the faith, as developed by Origen, being built up with the appliances of Philo's science, bears unmistakable marks of Neoplatonism and Gnosticism. Origen speculated not only in the manner of Justin, but also in that of Valentinus and therefore likewise after the fashion of Plotinus; in fact he is characterised by the adoption of the methods and, in a certain sense, of the axioms current in the schools of Valentinus and traceable in Neoplatonism. But, as this method implied the acknowledgment of a sacred literature, Origen was an exegete who believed in the Holy Scriptures and indeed, at bottom, he viewed all theology as a methodical exegesis of Holy Writ. Finally, however, since Origen, as an ecclesiastical Christian, was convinced that the Church (by which he means only the perfect and pure Church) is the sole possessor of God's holy revelations with whose authority the faith may be justly satisfied, nothing but the two Testaments, as preserved by her, was regarded by him as the absolutely reliable divine revelation.[684] But, in addition to these, every possession of the Church, and, above all, the rule of faith, was authoritative and holy.[685] By acknowledging not only the relative correctness of the beliefs held by the great mass of simple Christians, as the Valentinians did, but also the indispensableness of their faith as the foundation of speculation, Origen like Clement avoided the dilemma of becoming a heterodox Gnostic or an ecclesiastical traditionalist. He was able to maintain this standpoint, because in the first place his Gnosis required a guaranteed sacred literature which he only found in the Church, and because in the second place this same Gnosis had extended its horizon far enough to see that what the heretical Gnosis had regarded as contrasts were different aspects of the same thing. The relative way of looking at things, an inheritance from the best time of antiquity, is familiar to Origen, as it was to Clement; and he contrived never to lose sight of it, in spite of the absolute attitude he had arrived at through the Christian Gnosis and the Holy Scriptures. This relative view taught him and Clement toleration and discretion (Strom. IV. 22. 139: [Greek: hê gnôsis agapa kai tous agnoountas didaskei te kai paideuei tên pasan ktisin tou pantokratoros Theou timan], "Gnosis loves and instructs the ignorant and teaches us to honour the whole creation of God Almighty"); and enabled them everywhere to discover, hold fast, and further the good in that which was meagre and narrow, in that which was undeveloped and as yet intrinsically obscure.[686] As an orthodox traditionalist and decided opponent of all heresy Origen acknowledged that Christianity embraces a salvation which is offered to all men and attained by faith, that it is the doctrine of historical facts to which we must adhere, that the content of Christianity has been appropriately summarised by the Church in her rule of faith,[687] and that belief is of itself sufficient for the renewal and salvation of man. But, as an idealistic philosopher, Origen transformed the whole content of ecclesiastical faith into ideas. Here he adhered to no fixed philosophical system, but, like Philo, Clement, and the Neoplatonists, adopted and adapted all that had been effected by the labours of idealistic Greek moralists since the time of Socrates. These, however, had long before transformed the Socratic saying "know thyself" into manifold rules for the right conduct of life, and associated with it a theosophy, in which man was first to attain to his true self.[688] These rules made the true "sage" abstain from occupying himself in the service of daily life and "from burdensome appearance in public". They asserted that the mind "can have no more peculiar duty than caring for itself." This is accomplished by its not looking without nor occupying itself with foreign things, but, turning inwardly to itself, restoring its own nature to itself and thus practising righteousness.[689] Here it was taught that the wise man who no longer requires anything is nearest the Deity, because he is a partaker of the highest good through possession of his rich Ego and through his calm contemplation of the world; here moreover it was proclaimed that the mind that has freed itself from the sensuous[690] and lives in constant contemplation of the eternal is also in the end vouchsafed a view of the invisible and is itself deified. No one can deny that this sort of flight from the world and possession of God involves a specific secularisation of Christianity, and that the isolated and self-sufficient sage is pretty much the opposite of the poor soul that hungers after righteousness.[691] Nor, on the other hand, can any one deny that concrete examples of both types are found in infinite multiplicity and might shade off into each other in this multiplicity. This was the case with Clement and Origen. To them the ethical and religious ideal is the state without sorrow, the state of insensibility to all evils, of order and peace--but peace in God. Reconciled to the course of the world, trusting in the divine Logos,[692] rich in disinterested love to God and the brethren, reproducing the divine thoughts, looking up with longing to heaven its native city,[693] the created spirit attains its likeness to God and eternal bliss. It reaches this by the victory over sensuousness, by constantly occupying itself with the divine--"Go ye believing thoughts into the wide field of eternity"--by self-knowledge and contemplative isolation, which, however, does not exclude work in the kingdom of God, that is in the Church. This is the divine wisdom: "The soul practises viewing herself as in a mirror: she displays the divine Spirit in herself as in a mirror, if she is to be found worthy of this fellowship; and she thus discovers the traces of a mysterious way to deification."[694] Origen employed the Stoic and Platonic systems of ethics as an instrument for the gradual realisation of this ideal.[695] With him the mystic and ecstatic as well as the magic and sacramental element is still in the background, though it is not wanting. To Origen's mind, however, the inadequacy of philosophical injunctions was constantly made plain by the following considerations. (1) The philosophers, in spite of their noble thoughts of God, tolerated the existence of polytheism; and this was really the only fault he had to find with Plato. (2) The truth did not become universally accessible through them.[696] (3) As the result of these facts they did not possess sufficient power.[697] In contrast to this the divine revelation had already mastered a whole people through Moses--"Would to God the Jews had not transgressed the law, and had not slain the prophets and Jesus; we would then have had a model of that heavenly commonwealth which Plato has sought to describe"[698]--and the Logos shows his universal power in the Church (1) by putting an end to all polytheism, and (2) by improving everyone to the extent that his knowledge and capacity admit, and in proportion as his will is inclined to, and susceptible of, that which is good.[699] Not only, however, did Origen employ the Greek ethic in its varied types, but the Greek cosmological speculation also formed the complicated substructure of his religious system of morals. The Gnosis is formally a philosophy of revelation, that is a Scripture theology,[700] and materially a cosmological speculation. On the basis of a detailed theory of inspiration, which itself, moreover, originates with the philosophers, the Holy Scriptures are so treated that all facts appear as the vehicles of ideas and only attain their highest value in this aspect. Systematic theology, in undertaking its task, always starts, as Clement and Origen also did, with the conscious or unconscious thought of emancipating itself from the outward revelation and community of cultus that are the characteristic marks of positive religion. The place of these is taken by the results of speculative cosmology, which, though themselves practically conditioned, do not seem to be of this character. This also applies to Origen's Christian Gnosis or scientific dogmatic, which is simply the metaphysics of the age. However, as he was the equal of the foremost minds of his time, this dogmatic was no schoolboy imitation on his part, but was to some extent independently developed and was worked out both in opposition to pantheistic Stoicism and to theoretical dualism. That we are not mistaken in this opinion is shown by a document ranking among the most valuable things preserved to us from the third century; we mean the judgment passed on Origen by Porphyry in Euseb., H. E. VI. 19. Every sentence is instructive,[701] but the culminating point is the judgment contained in § 7: [Greek: kata men ton Bion Christianôs zôn kai paranomôs, kata de tas peri tôn pragmatôn kai tou theou doxas Hellênizôn kai ta Hellênôn tois othneiois hupoballomenos mythois.] ("His outward life was that of a Christian and opposed to the law, but in regard to his views of things and of the Deity, he thought like the Greeks, inasmuch as he introduced their ideas into the myths of other peoples.") We can everywhere verify this observation from Origen's works and particularly from the books written against Celsus, where he is continually obliged to mask his essential agreement in principles and method with the enemy of the Christians.[702] The Gnosis is in fact the Hellenic one and results in that wonderful picture of the world which, though apparently a drama, is in reality immovable, and only assumes such a complicated form here from its relation to the Holy Scriptures and the history of Christ.[703] The Gnosis neutralises everything connected with empiric history; and if this does not everywhere hold good with regard to the actual occurrence of facts, it is at least invariably the case in respect to their significance. The clearest proof of this is (1) that Origen raised the thought of the unchangeability of God to be the norm of his system and (2) that he denied the historical, incarnate Logos any significance for "Gnostics." To these Christ merely appears as the Logos who has been from eternity with the Father and has always acted from the beginning. He alone is the object of the knowledge of the wise man, who merely requires a perfect or, in other words, a divine teacher.[704] The Gospel too only teaches the "shadow of the secrets of Christ;" but the eternal Gospel, which is also the pneumatic one, "clearly places before men's minds all things concerning the Son of God himself, both the mysteries shown by his words, and the things of which his acts were the riddles" ([Greek: saphôs paristêsi tois noousi ta panta enôpion peri autou tou huiou tou Theou, kai ta paristamena mustêria hupo tôn logôn autou, ta te pragmata, ôn ainigmata êsan hai praxeis autou]).[705] No doubt the true theology based on revelation makes pantheism appear overthrown as well as dualism, and here the influence of the two Testaments cannot be mistaken; but a subtle form of the latter recurs in Origen's system, whilst the manner in which he rejected both made the Greek philosophy of the age feel that there was something akin to it here. In the final utterances of religious metaphysics ecclesiastical Christianity, with the exception of a few compromises, is thrown off as a husk. The objects of religious knowledge have no history or rather, and this is a genuinely Gnostic and Neoplatonic idea, they have only a supramundane one. This necessarily gave rise to the assumption of an esoteric and exoteric form of the Christian religion, for it is only behind the statutory, positive religion of the Church that religion itself is found. Origen gave the clearest expression to this assumption, which must have been already familiar in the Alexandrian school of catechists, and convinced himself that it was correct, because he saw that the mass of Christians were unable to grasp the deeper sense of Scripture, and because he realised the difficulties of the exegesis. On the other hand, in solving the problem of adapting the different points of his heterodox system of thought to the _regula fidei_, he displayed the most masterly skill. He succeeded in finding an external connection, because, though the construction of his theory proceeded from the top downwards, he could find support for it on the steps of the _regula fidei_, already developed by Irenæus into the history of salvation.[706] The system itself is to be, in principle and in every respect, monistic, but, as the material world, though created by God out of nothing, merely appears as a place of punishment and purification for souls, a strong element of dualism is inherent in the system, as far as its practical application is concerned.[707] The prevailing contrast is that between the one transcendent essence and the multiplicity of all created things. The pervading ambiguity lies in the twofold view of the spiritual in so far as, on the one hand, it belongs to God as the unfolding of his essence, and, on the other, as being created, is contrasted with God. This ambiguity, which recurs in all the Neoplatonic systems and has continued to characterise all mysticism down to the present day, originates in the attempt to repel Stoic pantheism and yet to preserve the transcendental nature of the human spirit, and to maintain the absolute causality of God without allowing his goodness to be called in question. The assumption that created spirits can freely determine their own course is therefore a necessity of the system; in fact this assumption is one of its main presuppositions[708] and is so boldly developed as to limit the omnipotence and omniscience of God. But, as from the empirical point of view the knot is tied for every man at the very moment he appears on earth, and since the problem is not created by each human being as the result of his own independent will, but lies in his organisation, speculation must retreat behind history. So the system, in accordance with certain hints of Plato, is constructed on the same plan as that of Valentinus, for example, to which it has an extraordinary affinity. It contains three parts: (1) The doctrine of God and his unfoldings or creations, (2) the doctrine of the Fall and its consequences, (3) the doctrine of redemption and restoration.[709] Like Denis, however, we may also, in accordance with a premised theory of method, set forth the system in four sections, viz., Theology, Cosmology, Anthropology, Teleology. Origen's fundamental idea is "the original indestructible unity of God and all spiritual essence." From this it necessarily follows that the created spirit after fall, error, and sin must ever return to its origin, to being in God. In this idea we have the key to the religious philosophy of Origen. The only sources for obtaining a knowledge of the truth are the Holy Scriptures of both Testaments. No doubt the speculations of Greek philosophers also contain truths, but these have only a propædeutic value and, moreover, have no certainty to offer, as have the Holy Scriptures, which are a witness to themselves in the fulfilment of prophecy.[710] On the other hand Origen assumes that there was an esoteric deeper knowledge in addition to the Holy Scriptures, and that Jesus in particular imparted this deeper wisdom to a few;[711] but, as a correct Church theologian, he scarcely made use of this assumption. The first methodical principle of his exegesis is that the faith, as professed in the Church in contradistinction to heresy, must not be tampered with.[712] But it is the carrying out of this rule that really forms the task of the theologian. For the faith itself is fixed and requires no particular presentation; it never occurred to Origen to assume that the fixing of the faith itself could present problems. It is complete, clear, easily teachable, and really leads to victory over sensuality and sin (see c. Cels. VII. 48 and cf. other passages), as well as to fellowship with God, since it rests on the revelation of the Logos. But, as it remains determined by fear and hope of reward so, as "uninformed and irrational faith" ([Greek: pistis idiôtikê] and [Greek: alogos]), it only leads to a "somatic Christianity" ([Greek: Christianismos sômatikos]). It is the task of theology, however, to decipher "spiritual Christianity" ([Greek: Christianismos pneumatikos]) from the Holy Scriptures, and to elevate faith to knowledge and clear vision. This is effected by the method of Scripture exegesis which ascertains the highest revelations of God.[713] The Scripture has a threefold sense because, like the cosmos, alongside of which it stands like a second revelation, as it were, it must contain a pneumatic, psychic, and somatic element. The somatic or historical sense is in every case the first that must be ascertained. It corresponds to the stage of mere faith and has consequently the same dignity as the latter. But there are instances where it is to be given up and designated as a Jewish and fleshly sense. This is to be assumed in all cases where it leads to ideas opposed to the nature of God, morality, the law of nature, or reason.[714] Here one must judge (see above) that such objectionable passages were meant to incite the searcher to a deeper investigation. The psychic sense is of a moral nature: in the Old Testament more especially most narratives have a moral content, which one can easily find by stripping off the history as a covering; and in certain passages one may content oneself with this meaning. The pneumatic sense, which is the only meaning borne by many passages, an assertion which neither Philo nor Clement ventured to make in plain terms, has with Origen a negatively apologetic and a positively didactic aim. It leads to the ultimate ideas which, once attained, are self-evident, and, so to speak, pass completely over into the mind of the theologian, because they finally obtain for him clear vision and independent possession.[715] When the Gnostic has attained this stage, he may throw away the ladders by which he has reached this height.[716] He is then inwardly united with God's Logos, and from this union obtains all that he requires. In most passages Origen presupposed the similarity and equal value of all parts of the Holy Scriptures; but in some he showed that even inspiration has its stages and grades, according to the receptivity and worthiness of each prophet, thus applying his relative view of all matters of fact in such cases also. In Christ the full revelation of the Logos was first expressed; his Apostles did not possess the same inspiration as he,[717] and among the Apostles and apostolic men differences in the degrees of inspiration are again to be assumed. Here Origen set the example of making a definite distinction between a heroic age of the Apostles and the succeeding period. This laid the foundation for an assumption through which the later Church down to our time has appeased her conscience and freed herself from demands that she could not satisfy.[718] THE DOCTRINE OF GOD AND HIS SELF-UNFOLDINGS OR CREATIONS.[719] The world points back to an ultimate cause and the created spirit to an eternal, pure, absolutely simple, and unchangeable spirit, who is the original source of all existence and goodness, so that everything that exists only does so in virtue of being caused by that One, and is good in so far as it derives its essence from the One who is perfection and goodness. This fundamental idea is the source of all the conclusions drawn by Origen as to the essence, attributes, and knowableness of God. As the One, God is contrasted with the Manifold; but the order in the Manifold points back to the One. As the real Essence, God is opposed to the essences that appear and seem to vanish, and that therefore have no real existence, because they have not their principle in themselves, but testify: "We have not made ourselves." As the absolutely immaterial Spirit, God is contrasted with the spirit that is clogged with matter, but which strives to get back to him from whom it received its origin. The One is something different from the Manifold; but the order, the dependence, and the longing of that which is created point back to the One, who can therefore be known relatively from the Manifold. In sharpest contrast to the heretical Gnosis, Origen maintained the absolute causality of God, and, in spite of all abstractions in determining the essence of God, he attributed self-consciousness and will to this superessential Essence (in opposition to Valentinus, Basilides, and the later Neoplatonists).[720] The created is one thing and the Self-existent is another, but both are connected together; as the created can only be understood from something self-existent, so the self-existent is not without analogy to the created. The Self-existent is in itself a living thing; it is beyond dispute that Origen with all his abstractions represented the Deity, whom he primarily conceived as a constant substance, in a more living, and, so to speak, in a more personal way than the Greek philosophers. Hence it was possible for him to produce a doctrine of the attributes of God. Here he did not even shrink from applying his relative view to the Deity, because, as will be seen, he never thinks of God without revelation, and because all revelation must be something limited. The omnipresence of God indeed suffers from no limitation. God is potentially everywhere; but he is everywhere only potentially; that is, he neither encompasses nor is encompassed. Nor is he diffused through the universe, but, as he is removed from the limits of space, so also he is removed from space itself.[721] But the omniscience and omnipotence of God have a limit, which indeed, according to Origen, lies in the nature of the case itself. In the first place his omnipotence is limited through his essence, for he can only do what he wills;[722] secondly by logic, for omnipotence cannot produce things containing an inward contradiction: God can do nothing contrary to nature, all miracles being natural in the highest sense[723]--thirdly, by the impossibility of that which is in itself unlimited being comprehended, whence it follows that the extent of everything created must be limited[724]--fourthly, by the impossibility of realising an aim completely and without disturbing elements.[725] Omniscience has also its corresponding limits; this is specially proved from the freedom of spirits bestowed by God himself. God has indeed the capacity of foreknowledge, but he knows transactions beforehand because they happen; they do not happen because he knows them.[726] That the divine purpose should be realised in the end necessarily follows from the nature of the created spirit itself, apart from the supporting activity of God. Like Irenæus and Tertullian Origen very carefully discussed the attributes of goodness and justice in God in opposition to the Marcionites.[727] But his exposition is different. In his eyes goodness and justice are not two opposite attributes, which can and must exist in God side by side; but as virtues they are to him identical. God rewards in justice and punishes in kindness. That it should go well with all, no matter how they conduct themselves, would be no kindness; but it is kindness when God punishes to improve, deter, and prevent. Passions, anger, and the like do not exist in God, nor any plurality of virtues; but, as the Perfect One, he is all kindness. In other places, however, Origen did not content himself with this presentation. In opposition to the Marcionites, who declared Christ and the Father of Christ to be good, and the creator of the world to be just, he argued that, on the contrary, God (the foundation of the world) is good, but that the Logos-Christ, in so far as he is the pedagogus, is just.[728] From the perfect goodness of God Origen infers that he reveals or communicates himself, from his immutability that he _always_ reveals himself. The eternal or never beginning communication of perfection to other beings is a postulate of the concept "God". But, along with the whole fraternity of those professing the same philosophy, Origen assumed that the One, in becoming the Manifold and acting in the interests of the Manifold, can only effect his purpose by divesting himself of absolute apathy and once more assuming a form in which he can act, that is, procuring for himself an adequate organ--_the Logos_. The content of Origen's teaching about this Logos was not essentially different from that of Philo and was therefore quite as contradictory; only in his case everything is more sharply defined and the hypostasis of the Logos (in opposition to the Monarchians) more clearly and precisely stated.[729] Nevertheless the personal independence of the Logos is as yet by no means so sharply defined as in the case of the later Arians. He is still the Consciousness of God, the spiritual Activity of God. Hence he is on the one hand the idea of the world existing in God, and on the other the product of divine wisdom originating with the will of God. The following are the most important propositions.[730] The Logos who appeared in Christ, as is specially shown from Joh. I. 1 and Heb. I. 1, is the perfect image[731] of God. He is the Wisdom of God, the reflection of his perfection and glory, the invisible image of God. For that very reason there is nothing corporeal in him[732] and he is therefore really God, not [Greek: autotheos], nor [Greek: ho Theos], nor [Greek: anarchos archê] ("beginningless beginning"), but the second God.[733] But, as such, immutability is one of his attributes, that is, he can never lose his divine essence, he can also in this respect neither increase nor decrease (this immutability, however, is not an independent attribute, but he is perfect as being an image of the Father's perfection).[734] Accordingly this deity is not a communicated one in the sense of his having another independent essence in addition to this divine nature; but deity rather constitutes his essence: [Greek: ho sotêr ou kata metousian, alla kat' ousian esti Theos][735] ("the Saviour is not God by communication, but in his essence"). From this it follows that he shares in the essence of God, therefore of the Father, and is accordingly [Greek: homoousios] ("the same in substance with the Father") or, seeing that, as Son, he has come forth from the Father, is engendered from the essence of the Father.[736] But having proceeded, like the will, from the Spirit, he was always with God; there was not a time when he was not,[737] nay, even this expression is still too weak. It would be an unworthy idea to think of God without his wisdom or to assume a beginning of his begetting. Moreover, this begetting is not an act that has only once taken place, but a process lasting from all eternity; the Son is always being begotten of the Father.[738] It is the theology of Origen which Gregory Thaumaturgus has thus summed up:[739] [Greek: eis kurios, monos ek monou, theos ek theou, charaktêr kai eikôn tês theotêtos, logos energos, sophia tês tôn holôn sustaseôs periektikê kai dunamis tês holês ktiseôs poiêtikê, huios alêthinos alêthinou patros, aoratos aoratou kai aphthartos aphthartou kai athanatos athanatou kai aidios aidiou]. ("One Lord, one from one, God from God, impress and image of Godhead, energetic word, wisdom embracing the entire system of the universe and power producing all creation, true Son of a true Father, the invisible of the invisible and incorruptible of the incorruptible, the immortal of the immortal, the eternal of the eternal"). The begetting is an indescribable act which can only be represented by inadequate images: it is no emanation--the expression [Greek: probolê] is not found, so far as I know[740]--but is rather to be designated as an act of the will arising from an inner necessity, an act which for that very reason is an emanation of the essence. But the Logos thus produced is really a personally existing being; he is not an impersonal force of the Father, though this still appears to be the case in some passages of Clement, but he is the "sapientia dei substantialiter subsistens"[741] ("the wisdom of God substantially existing") "figura expressa substantial patris" ("express image of the Father's substance"), "virtus altera in sua proprietate subsistens" ("a second force existing in its own characteristic fashion"). He is, and here Origen appeals to the old Acts of Paul, an "animal vivens" with an independent existence.[742] He is another person,[743] namely, the second person in number.[744] But here already begins Origen's second train of thought which limits the first that we have set forth. As a particular hypostasis, which has its "first cause" ([Greek: prôton aition]) in God, the Son is "that which is caused" ([Greek: aitiaton]), moreover as the fulness of ideas, as he who comprehends in himself all the forms that are to have an active existence, the Son is no longer an absolute _simplex_ like the Father.[745] He is already the first stage of the transition from the One to the Manifold, and, as the medium of the world-idea, his essence has an inward relation to the world, which is itself without beginning.[746] As soon therefore as the category of causality is applied--which moreover dominates the system--and the particular contemplation of the Son in relation to the Father gives way to the general contemplation of his task and destination, the Son is not only called [Greek: ktisma] and [Greek: dêmiourgêma], but all the utterances about the quality of his essence receive a limitation. We nowhere find the express assertion that this quality is inferior or of a different kind when compared with that of God; but these utterances lose their force when it is asserted that complete similarity between Father and Son only exists in relation to the world. We have to acknowledge the divine being that appeared in Christ to be the manifestation of the Deity; but, from God's standpoint, the Son is the hypostasis appointed by and _subordinated_ to him.[747] The Son stands between the uncreated One and the created Many; in so far as unchangeableness is an attribute of self-existence he does not possess it.[748] It is evident why Origen was obliged to conceive the Logos exactly as he did; it was only in this form that the idea answered the purpose for which it was intended. In the description of the essence of the Logos much more heed continues to be given to his creative than to his redeeming significance. Since it was only a teacher that Origen ultimately required for the purpose of redemption, he could unfold the nature and task of the Logos without thinking of Christ, whose name indeed he frequently mentions in his disquisitions, but whose person is really not of the slightest importance there.[749] In order to comply with the rule of faith, and for this reason alone, for his speculation did not require a Spirit in addition to the Logos, Origen also placed the Spirit alongside of Father and Son. All that is predicated about him by the Church is that he is equal to the other persons in honour and dignity, and it was he that inspired both Prophets and Apostles; but that it is still undecided whether he be created or uncreated, and whether he too is to be considered the Son of God or not.[750] As the third hypostasis, Origen reckoned him part of the constant divine essence and so treated him after the analogy of the Son, without producing an impressive proof of the necessity of this hypostasis. He, however, became the Holy Spirit through the Son, and is related to the latter as the latter is related to the Father; in other words he is subordinate to the Son; he is the first creation of the Father through the Son.[751] Here Origen was following an old tradition. Considered quantitatively therefore, and this according to Origen is the most important consideration, the Spirit's sphere of action is the smallest. All being has its principle in the Father, the Son has his sphere in the rational, the Holy Spirit in the sanctified, that is in the Church; this he has to rule over and perfect. Father, Son, and Spirit form a [Greek: trias] ("triad")[752] to which nothing may be compared; they are equal in dignity and honour, and the substance they possess is one. If the following is not one of Rufinus' corrections, Origen said[753]: "Nihil in trinitate maius minusve dicendum est cum unius divinitatis fons verbo ac ratione sua teneat universa"[754] ("nothing in the Trinity is to be called greater or less, since the fountain of one divinity holds all his parts by word and reason"). But, as in Origen's sense the union of these only exists because the Father alone is the "source of deity" ([Greek: pêgê tês theotêtos]) and principle of the other two hypostases, the Trinity is in truth no homogeneous one, but one which, in accordance with a "subtle emanation idea", has degrees within it. This Trinity, which in the strict sense remains a Trinity of revelation, except that revelation belongs to the essence of God, is with Origen the real secret of the faith, the mystery beyond all mysteries. To deny it shows a Jewish, carnal feeling or at least the greatest narrowness of conception. The idea of createdness was already more closely associated with the Holy Ghost than with the Logos. He is in a still clearer fashion than the Son himself the transition to the series of ideas and spirits that having been created by the Son, are in truth the unfolding of his fulness. They form the next stage after the Holy Spirit. In assuming the existence of such beings as were required by his philosophical system, Origen appealed to the Biblical doctrine of angels, which he says is expressly acknowledged in the Church.[755] With Clement even the association of the Son and Holy Ghost with the great angelic spirits is as yet not altogether avoided, at least in his expressions.[756] Origen was more cautious in this respect.[757] The world of spirits appears to him as a series of well-arranged, graded energies, as the representative of created reason. Its characteristic is growth, that is, progress ([Greek: prokopê]).[758] Growth is conditioned by freedom: "_omnis creatura rationabilis laudis et culpæ capax: laudis, si secundum rationem, quam in se habet, ad meliora proficiat, culpæ, si rationem recti declinet_"[759] ("every rational creature is capable of meriting praise or blame--praise, if it advance to better things according to the reason it possesses in itself, blame, if it avoid the right course"). As unchangeableness and permanence are characteristic of the Deity, so freedom is the mark of the created spirit.[760] In this thesis Origen goes beyond the assumption of the heretical Gnostics just as much as he does in his other proposition that the creaturely spirit is in no sense a portion of the divine (because it is changeable[761]); but in reality freedom, as he understands it, is only the capacity of created spirits to determine their own destiny _for a time_. In the end, however, they must turn to that which is good, because everything spiritual is indestructible. _Sub specie æternitatis_, then, the mere communication of the divine element to the created spirit[762] is _not_ a mere communication, and freedom is no freedom; but the absolute necessity of the created spirit's developing itself merely appears as freedom. Yet Origen himself did not draw this conclusion, but rather based everything on his conception that the freedom of _naturæ rationabiles_ consisted in the _possibilitas utriusque_, and sought to understand the cosmos, as it is, from this freedom. To the _naturæ rationabiles_, which have different _species_ and _ordines_, human souls also belong. The whole of them were created from all eternity; for God would not be almighty unless he had always produced everything[763]; in virtue of their origin they are equal, for their original community with the Logos permits of no diversity[764]; but, on the other hand, they have received different tasks and their development is consequently different. In so far as they are spirits subject to change, they are burdened with a kind of bodily nature,[765] for it is only the Deity that is without a body. The element of materiality is a necessary result of their finite nature, that is, of their being created; and this applies both to angels and human souls.[766] Now Origen did not speculate at all as to how the spirit world might have developed in ideal fashion, a fact which it is exceedingly important to recognise; he knows nothing at all about an ideal development for all, and does not even view it as a possibility. The truth rather is that as soon as he mentions the _naturæ rationabiles_, he immediately proceeds to speak of their fall, their growth, and their diversities. He merely contemplates them in the given circumstances in which they are placed (see the exposition in [Greek: peri archôn] II. 9. 2). THE DOCTRINE OF THE FALL AND ITS CONSEQUENCES. All created spirits must develop. When they have done so, they attain perfection and make way for new dispensations and worlds.[767] In the exercise of their freedom, however, disobedience, laxity, laziness, and failure make their appearance among them in an endless multiplicity of ways.[768] The disciplining and purifying of these spirits was the purpose for which the material world was created by God.[769] It is therefore a place of purification, ruled and harmoniously arranged by God's wisdom.[770] Each member of the world of spirits has received a different kind of material nature in proportion to his degree of removal from the Creator. The highest spirits, who have virtually held fast by that which is good, though they too stand in need of restitution, guide the world, are servants of God ([Greek: angeloi]), and have bodies of an exceedingly subtle kind in the form of a globe (stars). The spirits that have fallen very deeply (the spirits of men) are banished into material bodies. Those that have altogether turned against God have received very dark bodies, indescribably ugly, though not visible. Men therefore are placed between the angels and demons, both of whom try to influence them. The moral struggle that man has to undergo within himself is made harder by the demons, but lightened by the angels,[771] for these spiritual powers are at all times and places acting both upon the physical and the spiritual world. But everything is subject to the permission of the divine goodness and finally also to the guidance of divine providence, though the latter has created for itself a limit in freedom.[772] Evil, however, and it is in this idea that Origen's great optimism consists, cannot conquer in the end. As it is nothing eternal, so also it is at bottom nothing real; it is "nonexistent" ([Greek: ouch on]) and "unreal" ([Greek: anupostaton]).[773] For this very reason the estrangement of the spirits from God must finally cease; even the devil, who, as far as his _being_ is concerned, resulted from God's will, cannot always remain a devil. The spirits must return to God, and this moment is also the end of the material world, which is merely an intermediate phase.[774] According to this conception the doctrine of man, who in Origen's view is no longer the sole aim of creation to the same extent as he is with the other Fathers,[775] assumes the following form: The essence of man is formed by the reasonable soul, which has fallen from the world above. This is united with the body by means of the animal soul. Origen thus believes in a threefold nature of man. He does so in the first place, because Plato holds this theory, and Origen always embraced the most complicated view in matters of tradition, and secondly, because the rational soul can never in itself be the principle of action opposed to God, and yet something relatively spiritual must be cited as the cause of this action. It is true that we also find in Origen the view that the spirit in man has itself been cooled down into a soul, has been, as it were, transformed into a soul; but there is necessarily an ambiguity here, because on the one hand the spirit of man is said to have chosen a course opposed to God, and, on the other, that which is rational and free in man must be shown to be something remaining intact.[776] Man's struggle consists in the endeavour of the two factors forming his constitution to gain control of his sphere of action. If man conquers in this struggle he attains _likeness_ to God; the image of God he bears beyond danger of loss in his indestructible, rational, and therefore immortal spirit.[777] Victory, however, denotes nothing else than the subjugation of the instincts and passions.[778] No doubt God affords help in the struggle, for nothing good is without God,[779] but in such a way as not to interfere with freedom. According to this conception sin is a matter of necessity in the case of fallen spirits; all men are met with as sinners and are so, for they were already sinners.[780] Sin is rooted in the whole earthly condition of men; it is the weakness and error of the spirit parted from its origin.[781] The idea of freedom, indeed, is supposed to be a feature which always preserves the guilty character of sin; but in truth it becomes a mere appearance,[782] it does not avail against the constitution of man and the sinful habit propagated in human society.[783] All must be sinners at first,[784] for that is as much their destiny as is the doom of death which is a necessary consequence of man's material nature.[785] _The Doctrine of Redemption and Restoration._ In the view of Clement and Origen the proposition: "God wishes us to be saved by means of ourselves" ([Greek: o Theos hêmas ex hêmôn autôn bouletai sôzesthai]) is quite as true as the other statement that no spirit can be saved without entering into fellowship with the Logos and submitting to his instruction.[786] They moreover hold that the Logos, after passing through his various stages of revealing activity (law of nature, Mosaic law), disclosed himself in the Gospel in a manner complete and accessible to all, so that this revelation imparts redemption and eternal happiness to all men, however different their capacities may be. Finally, it is assumed that not only men but all spiritual creatures, from the radiant spirits of heaven down to the dusky demons, have the capacity and need of redemption; while for the highest stage, the "spiritual Church", there is an _eternal Gospel_ which is related to the written one as the latter is to the law. This eternal Gospel is the first complete revelation of God's highest intentions, and lies hidden in the Holy Scriptures.[787] These elements compose Origen's doctrine of revelation in general and of Christ in particular.[788] They presuppose the sighing of the creature and the great struggle which is more especially carried on upon earth, within the human breast, by the angels and demons, virtues and vices, knowledge and passion, that dispute the possession of man. Man must conquer and yet he cannot do so without help. But help has never been wanting. The Logos has been revealing himself from the beginning. Origen's teaching concerning the preparatory history of redemption is founded on the doctrines of the Apologists; but with him everything takes a more vivid form, and influences on the part of the heretical Gnosis are also not lacking. Pure spirits, whom no fault of their own had caused to be invested with bodies, namely, the prophets, were sent to men by the Logos in order to support the struggling and to increase knowledge. To prepare the way of salvation the Logos chose for himself a whole people, and he revealed himself among all men. But all these undertakings did not yet lead to the goal. The Logos himself was obliged to appear and lead men back. But by reason of the diverse nature of the spirits, and especially of men, the redeeming work of the Logos that appeared could not fail to be a complicated one. In the case of some he had really to show them the victory over the demons and sin, a view which beyond dispute is derived from that of Valentinus. He had, as the "Godman," to make a sacrifice which represented the expiation of sin, he had to pay a ransom which put an end to the devil's sovereignty over men's souls, and in short he had to bring a redemption visible and intelligible to all.[789] To the rest, however, as divine teacher and hierophant he had to reveal the depths of knowledge, and to impart in this very process a new principle of life, so that they might now partake of his life and themselves become divine through being interwoven with the divine essence. Here, as in the former case, restoration to fellowship with God is the goal; but, as in the lower stage, this restoration is effected through faith and sure conviction of the reality of a historical fact--namely, the redeeming death of Christ,--so, in the higher stage, it is accomplished through knowledge and love, which, soaring upward beyond the Crucified One, grasp the eternal essence of the Logos, revealed to us through his teaching in the eternal Gospel.[790] What the Gnostics merely represented as a more or less valuable appearance-- namely, the historical work of Christ--was to Origen no appearance but truth. But he did not view it as _the_ truth, and in this he agrees with the Gnostics, but as _a_ truth, beyond which lies a higher. That historical work of Christ was a reality; it is also indispensable for men of more limited endowments, and not a matter of indifference to the perfect; but the latter no longer require it for their personal life. Here also Origen again contrived to reconcile contradictions and thus acknowledged, outdid, reconciled, and united both the theses of the Gnostics and those of orthodox Christians. The object and goal of redemption are the same for all, namely, the restoration of the created spirit to God and participation in the divine life. In so far as history is a struggle between spirits and demons, the death of Christ on the cross is the turning-point of history, and its effects extend even into heaven and hell.[791] On the basis of this conception of redemption Origen developed his idea of Christ. Inasmuch as he recognised Christ as the Redeemer, this Christ, the God-man, could not but be as many-sided as redemption is. Only through that masterly art of reconciling contradictions, and by the aid of that fantastic idea which conceives one real being as dwelling in another, could there be any apparent success in the attempt to depict a homogeneous person who in truth is no longer a person, but the symbol of the various redemptions. That such an acute thinker, however, did not shrink from the monstrosity his speculation produced is ultimately to be accounted for by the fact that this very speculation afforded him the means of nullifying all the utterances about Christ and falling back on the idea of the divine teacher as being the highest one. The whole "humanity" of the Redeemer together with its history finally disappears from the eyes of the perfect one. What remains is the principle, the divine Reason, which became known and recognisable through Christ. The perfect one, and this remark also applies to Clement's perfect Gnostic, thus knows no "Christology", but only an indwelling of the Logos in Jesus Christ, with which the indwellings of this same Logos in men began. To the Gnostic the question of the divinity of Christ is of as little importance as that of the humanity. The former is no question, because speculation, starting above and proceeding downwards, is already acquainted with the Logos and knows that he has become completely comprehensible in Christ; the latter is no question, because the humanity is a matter of indifference, being the form in which the Logos made himself recognisable. But to the Christian who is not yet perfect the divinity as well as the humanity of Christ is a problem, and it is the duty of the perfect one to solve and explain it, and to guard this solution against errors on all sides. To Origen, however, the errors are already Gnostic Docetism on the one hand, and the "Ebionite" view on the other.[792] His doctrine was accordingly as follows: As a pure unchangeable spirit, the Logos could not unite with matter, because this as [Greek: mê on] would have depotentiated him. A medium was required. The Logos did not unite with the body, but with a soul, and only through the soul with the body. This soul was a pure one; it was a created spirit that had never fallen from God, but always remained in faithful obedience to him, and that had chosen to become a soul in order to serve the purposes of redemption. This soul then was always devoted to the Logos from the first and had never renounced fellowship with him. It was selected by the Logos for the purpose of incarnation and that because of its moral dignity. The Logos became united with it in the closest way; but this connection, though it is to be viewed as a mysteriously real union, continues to remain perfect only because of the unceasing effort of will by which the soul clings to the Logos. Thus, then, no intermixture has taken place. On the contrary the Logos preserves his impassibility, and it is only the soul that hungers and thirsts, struggles and suffers. In this, too, it appears as a real human soul, and in the same way the body is sinless and unpolluted, as being derived from a virgin; but yet it is a human one. This humanity of the body, however, does not exclude its capacity of assuming all possible qualities the Logos wishes to give it; for matter of itself possesses no qualities. The Logos was able at any moment to give his body the form it required, in order to make the proper impression on the various sorts of men. Moreover, he was not enclosed in the soul and body of Christ; on the contrary he acted everywhere as before and united himself, as formerly, with all the souls that opened themselves to him. But with none did the union become so close as with the soul, and consequently also with the body of Jesus. During his earthly life the Logos glorified and deified his soul by degrees and the latter acted in the same way on his body. Origen contrived to arrange the different functions and predicates of the incarnate Logos in such a way that they formed a series of stages which the believer becomes successively acquainted with as he advances in knowledge. But everything is most closely united together in Christ. This union ([Greek: koinônia enôsis, anakrasis]) was so intimate that Holy Writ has named the created man, Jesus, the Son of God; and on the other hand has called the Son of God the Son of Man. After the resurrection and ascension the whole man Jesus appears transformed into a spirit, is completely received into the Godhead, and is thus identical with the Logos.[793] In this conception one may be tempted to point out all possible "heresies":--the conception of Jesus as a heavenly man--but all men are heavenly;--the Adoptianist ("Ebionite") Christology--but the Logos as a person stands behind it;--the conception of two Logoi, a personal and an impersonal; the Gnostic separation of Jesus and Christ; and Docetism. As a matter of fact Origen united all these ideas, but modified the whole of them in such a way that they no longer seem, and to some extent are not, what they turn out to be when subjected to the slightest logical analysis. This structure is so constituted that not a stone of it admits of being a hair's-breadth broader or narrower. There is only one conception that has been absolutely unemployed by Origen, that is, the modalistic view. Origen is the great opponent of Sabellianism, a theory which in its simplicity frequently elicited from him words of pity; otherwise he made use of all the ideas about Christ that had been formed in the course of two hundred years. This becomes more and more manifest the more we penetrate into the details of this Christology. We cannot, however, attribute to Origen a doctrine of two natures, but rather the notion of two subjects that become gradually amalgamated with each other, although the expression "two natures" is not quite foreign to Origen.[794] The Logos retains his human nature eternally,[795] but only in the same sense in which we preserve our nature after the resurrection. The significance which this Christological attempt possessed for its time consists first in its complexity, secondly in the energetic endeavour to give an adequate conception of Christ's _humanity_, that is, of the moral freedom pertaining to him as a creature. This effort was indeed obliged to content itself with a meagre result: but we are only justified in measuring Origen's Christology by that of the Valentinians and Basilidians, that is, by the scientific one that had preceded it. The most important advance lies in the fact that Origen set forth a scientific Christology in which he was able to find so much scope for the humanity of Christ. Whilst within the framework of the scientific Christologies this humanity had hitherto been conceived as something indifferent or merely apparent, Origen made the first attempt to incorporate it with the various speculations without prejudice to the Logos, God in nature and person. No Greek philosopher probably heeded what Irenæus set forth respecting Christ as the second Adam, the _recapitulatur generis humani_; whereas Origen's speculation could not be overlooked. In this case the Gnosis really adopted the idea of the incarnation, and at the same time tried to demonstrate the conception of the God-man from the notions of unity of will and love. In the treatise against Celsus, moreover, Origen went the reverse way to work and undertook to show, and this not merely by help of the proof from prophecy, that the predicate deity applied to the historical Christ.[796] But Origen's conception of Christ's person as a model (for the Gnostic) and his repudiation of all magical theories of redemption ultimately explain why he did not, like Tertullian, set forth a doctrine of two natures, but sought to show that in Christ's case a human subject with his will and feelings became completely merged in the Deity. No doubt he can say that the union of the divine and human natures had its beginning in Christ, but here he virtually means that this beginning is continued in the sense of souls imitating the example of Christ. What is called the real redemption supposed to be given in him is certainly mediated in the Psychic through his _work_, but the _person_ of Christ which cannot be known to any but the perfect man is by no means identified with that real redemption, but appears as a free moral personality, inwardly blended with the Deity, a personality which cannot mechanically transfer the content of its essence, though it can indeed exercise the strongest impression on mind and heart. To Origen the highest value of Christ's person lies in the fact that the Deity has here condescended to reveal to us the whole fulness of his essence, in the person of a man, as well as in the fact that a man is given to us who shows that the human spirit is capable of becoming entirely God's. At bottom there is nothing obscure and mystical here; the whole process takes place in the will and in the feelings through knowledge.[797] This is sufficient to settle the nature of what is called personal attainment of salvation. Freedom precedes and supporting grace follows. As in Christ's case his human soul gradually united itself with the Logos in proportion as it voluntarily subjected its will to God, so also every man receives grace according to his progress. Though Clement and Origen did not yet recommend actual exercises according to definite rules, their description of the gradations by which the soul rises to God already resembles that of the Neoplatonists, except that they decidedly begin with faith as the first stage. Faith is the first step and is our own work.[798] Then follows the religious contemplation of visible things, and from this the soul advances, as on the steps of a ladder, to the contemplation of the _substantiæ rationabiles_, the Logos, the knowable essence of God, and the whole fulness of the Deity.[799] She retraces her steps upwards along the path she formerly passed over as a fallen spirit. But, when left to her own resources, she herself is everywhere weak and powerless; she requires at every stage the divine grace, that is, enlightenment.[800] Thus a union of grace and freedom takes place within the sphere of the latter, till the "contemplative life" is reached, that joyous ascetic contemplativeness, in which the Logos is the friend, associate, and bridegroom of the soul, which now, having become a pure spirit, and being herself deified, clings in love to the Deity.[801] In this view the thought of regeneration in the sense of a fundamental renewal of the Ego has no place;[802] still baptism is designated the bath of regeneration. Moreover, in connection with the consideration of main Biblical thoughts (God as love, God as the Father, Regeneration, Adoption, etc.) we find in both Clement and Origen passages which, free from the trammels of the system, reproduce and set forth the preaching of the Gospel in a surprisingly appropriate way.[803] It is evident that in Origen's view there can be no visible means of grace; but it likewise follows from his whole way of thinking that the symbols attending the enlightening operation of grace are not a matter of indifference to the Christian Gnostic, whilst to the common man they are indispensable.[804] In the same way he brought into play the system of numerous mediators and intercessors with God, viz., angels and dead and living saints, and counselled an appeal to them. In this respect he preserved a heathen custom. Moreover, Origen regards Christ as playing an important part in prayer, particularly as mediator and high priest. On prayer to Christ he expressed himself with great reserve. Origen's eschatology occupies a middle position between that of Irenæus and the theory of the Valentinian Gnostics, but is more akin to the latter view. Whilst, according to Irenæus, Christ reunites and glorifies all that had been severed, though in such a way that there is still a remnant eternally damned; and, according to Valentinus, Christ separates what is illegitimately united and saves the spirits alone, Origen believes that all spirits will be finally rescued and glorified, each in the form of its individual life, in order to serve a new epoch of the world when sensuous matter disappears of itself. Here he rejects all sensuous eschatological expectations.[805] He accepted the formula, "resurrection of the flesh", only because it was contained in the doctrine of the Church; but, on the strength of 1 Cor. XV. 44, he interpreted it as the rising of a "corpus spiritale", which will lack all material attributes and even all the members that have sensuous functions, and which will beam with radiant light like the angels and stars.[806] Rejecting the doctrine that souls sleep,[807] Origen assumed that the souls of the departed immediately enter Paradise,[808] and that souls not yet purified pass into a state of punishment, a penal fire, which, however, like the whole world, is to be conceived as a place of purification.[809] In this way also Origen contrived to reconcile his position with the Church doctrines of the judgment and the punishments in hell; but, like Clement, he viewed the purifying fire as a temporary and figurative one; it consists in the torments of conscience.[810] In the end all the spirits in heaven and earth, nay, even the demons, are purified and brought back to God by the Logos-Christ,[811] after they have ascended from stage to stage through seven heavens.[812] Hence Origen treated this doctrine as an esoteric one: "for the common man it is sufficient to know that the sinner is punished."[813] This system overthrew those of the Gnostics, attracted Greek philosophers, and justified ecclesiastical Christianity. If one undertook to subject it to a new process of sublimation from the standpoint given in the "contemplative life", little else would be left than the unchangeable spirit, the created spirit, and the ethic. But no one is justified in subjecting it to this process.[814] The method according to which Origen preserved whatever appeared valuable in the content of tradition is no less significant than his system of ethics and the great principle of viewing everything created in a relative sense. Supposing minds of a radical cast, to have existed at the close of the history of ancient civilisation, what would have been left to us? The fact of a strong and undivided religious interest attaching itself to the traditions of the philosophers and of the two Testaments was the condition--to use Origen's own language--that enabled a new world of spirits to arise after the old one had finished its course. During the following century Origen's theology at first acted in its entirety. But it likewise attained this position of influence, because some important propositions could be detached from their original connection and fitted into a new one. It is one of the peculiarities of this ecclesiastical philosophy of religion that the most of its formulæ could be interpreted and employed _in utramque partem_. The several propositions could be made to serve very different purposes not only by being halved, but also by being grouped. With this the relative unity that distinguishes the system no doubt vanished; but how many are there who strive after unity and completeness in their theory of the world? Above all, however, there was something else that necessarily vanished, as soon as people meddled with the individual propositions, and enlarged or abridged them. We mean the frame of mind which produced them, that wonderful unity between the relative view of things and the absolute estimate of the highest good attainable by the free spirit that is certain of its God. But a time came, nay, had already come, when a sense of proportion and relation was no longer to be found. In the East the history of dogma and of the Church during the succeeding centuries is the history of Origen's philosophy. Arians and orthodox, critics and mystics, priests who overcame the world and monks who shunned it but were eager for knowledge[815] could appeal to this system and did not fail to do so. But, in the main problem that Origen set for the Church in this religious philosophy of his, we find a recurrence of that propounded by the so-called Gnosticism two generations earlier. He solved it by producing a system which reconciled the faith of the Church with Greek philosophy; and he dealt Gnosticism its death-blow. This solution, however, was by no means intended as the doctrine of the Church, since indeed it was rather based on the distinction between Church belief and theology, and consequently on the distinction between the common man and the theologian. But such a distinction was not permanently tenable in a Church that had to preserve its strength by the unity and finality of a revealed faith, and no longer tolerated fresh changes in the interpretation of its possession. Hence a further compromise was necessary. The Greek philosophy, or speculation, did not attain real and permanent recognition within the Church till a new accommodation, capable of being accounted both Pistis and Gnosis, was found between what Origen looked on as Church belief and what he regarded as Gnosis. In the endeavours of Irenæus, Tertullian, and Hippolytus were already found hesitating, nay, we may almost say naïve, attempts at such an accommodation; but ecclesiastical traditionalism was unable to attain complete clearness as to its own position till it was confronted with a philosophy of religion that was no longer heathen or Gnostic, but had an ecclesiastical colouring. But, with this prospect, we have already crossed the border of the third century. At its beginning there were but few theologians in Christendom who were acquainted with speculation, even in its fragmentary form. In the course of the century it became a recognised part of the orthodox faith, in so far as the Logos doctrine triumphed in the Church. This development is the most important that took place in the third century; for it denoted the definite transformation of the rule of faith into the compendium of a Greek philosophical system, and it is the parallel of a contemporaneous transformation of the Church into a holy commonwealth (see above, chapter 3). Footnotes: [Footnote 656: Guericke, De schola, quæ Alex. floruit catechetica 1824, 1825. Vacherot, Hist. crit. de l'école d'Alex., 1846-51. Reinkens, De Clemente Alex., 1850. Redepenning, Origenes Thl. I. p. 57 ff. Læmmer, Clem. Al. de Logo doctrina, 1855. Reuter, Clem. theolog. moralis, 1853. Cognat, Clement d'Alex. Paris, 1859. Westcott, Origen and the beginnings of Christian Philosophy (Contemporary Review, May 1879). Winter, Die Ethik des Clemens von Alex., 1882. Merk, Cl. Alex, in seiner Abhängigkeit von der griech. Philosophie, Leipzig, 1879 (see besides Overbeck, Theol. Lit. Ztg., 1879. No. 20 and cf. above all his disquisitions in the treatise "Ueber. die Anfänge der patristischen Litteratur,") Hist. Ztschr. N.F., Vol. XII., pp. 455-472 Zahn, Forschungen, Vol. III. Bigg, The Christian Platonists of Alexandria, Oxford, 1886. Kremmer, De catal. heurematum, Lips. 1890. Wendland, Quæst. Musonianæ, Berol. 1886. Bratke, Die Stellung des Clem. Alex. z. antiken Mysterienwesen (Stud. u. Krit. 1888, p. 647 ff). On Alexander of Jerusalem see Routh, Reliq. Sacr. T. II. p. 161 sq.; on Julius Africanus see Gelzer, Sextus Jul. Afr. I. Thl., 1880, p. 1 ff., Spitta, Der Brief des Jul. Afr. an Aristides, Halle 1877, and my article in the Real-Encykl. On Bardesanes see Hilgenfeld, B., der letzte Gnostiker, 1864, and Hort's article in the Dictionary of Christian Biography. On the labours in scientific theology on the part of the so-called Alogi in Asia Minor and of the Roman Theodotianists see Epiph. hær. 51, Euseb., H. E. V. 28 and my article "Monarchianismus" in the R.-Encykl. f. protest. Theol. 2nd. ed., Vol. X., pp. 183 ff., 188 ff. On the tendencies even of orthodox Christians to scientific theology see Tertull., de præscr. hær. 8 ff. (cf. the first words of c. 8: "Venio itaque ad illum articulum, quem et nostri prætendunt ad ineundam curiositatem. Scriptum est, inquiunt, Quærite et invenietis" etc.).] [Footnote 657: This manner of expression is indeed liable to be misunderstood, because it suggests the idea that something new was taking place. As a matter of fact the scientific labours in the Church were merely a continuation of the Gnostic schools under altered circumstances, that is, under the sway of a tradition which was now more clearly defined and more firmly fenced round as a _noli me tangere_.] [Footnote 658: This was begun in the Church by Irenæus and Tertullian and continued by the Alexandrians. They, however, not only adopted theologoumena from Paulinism, but also acquired from Paul a more ardent feeling of religious freedom as well as a deeper reverence for love and knowledge as contrasted with lower morality.] [Footnote 659: We are not able to form a clear idea of the school of Justin. In the year 180 the schools of the Valentinians, Carpocratians, Tatian etc. were all outside the Church.] [Footnote 660: On the school of Edessa see Assemani, Bibl. orient., T. III., P. II., p. 924; Von Lengerke, De Ephraemi arte hermen., p. 86 sq.; Kihn, Die Bedeutung der antiochenischen Schule etc., pp. 32 f. 79 f., Zahn, Tatian's Diatessaron, p. 54. About the middle of the 3rd century Macarius, of whom Lucian the Martyr was a disciple, taught at this school. Special attention was given to the exegesis of the Holy Scriptures.] [Footnote 661: Overbeck, l.c., p. 455, has very rightly remarked: "The origin of the Alexandrian school of catechists is not a portion of the Church history of the 2nd century, that has somehow been left in the dark by a mere accident; but a part of the well-defined dark region on the map of the ecclesiastical historian of this period, which contains the beginnings of all the fundamental institutions of the Church as well as those of the Alexandrian school of catechists, a school which was the first attempt to formulate the relationship of Christianity to secular science." We are, moreover, still in a state of complete uncertainty as to the personality and teaching of Pantænus (with regard to him see Zahn, "Forschungen" Vol. III., pp. 64 ff. 77 ff). We can form an idea of the school of catechists from the 6th Book of Eusebius' Ecclesiastical History and from the works of Clement and Origen.] [Footnote 662: On the connection of Julius Africanus with this school see Eusebius, VI. 31. As to his relations with Origen see the correspondence. Julius Africanus had, moreover, relations with Edessa. He mentions Clement in his chronicles. On the connection of Alexander and the Cappadocian circle with Pantænus, Clement, and Origen, see the 6th Book of Eusebius' Ecclesiastical History. Alexander and Origen were disciples of Pantænus.] [Footnote 663: See my article "Heraklas" in the Real-Encyklopadie.] [Footnote 664: We have the most complete materials in Zahn, "Forschungen" Vol. III. pp. 17-176. The best estimate of the great tripartite work (Protrepticus, Pædagogus, Stromateis) is found in Overbeck, l.c. The titles of Clement's remaining works, which are lost to us or only preserved in fragments, show how comprehensive his scientific labours were.] [Footnote 665: This applies quite as much to the old principles of Christian morality as to the traditional faith. With respect to the first we may refer to the treatise: "Quis dives salvetur", and to the 2nd and 3rd Books of the Pædagogus.] [Footnote 666: Clement was also conscious of the novelty of his undertaking; see Overbeck, l.c., p. 464 f. The respect enjoyed by Clement as a master is shown by the letters of Alexander of Jerusalem. See Euseb., H. E. VI. 11 and specially VI. 14. Here both Pantænus and Clement are called "Father", but whilst the former receives the title, [Greek: ho makarios hôs alêthôs kai kurios ], the latter is called: [Greek: ho hieros Klêmês, kurios mou genomenos kai ôphelêsas me].] [Footnote 667: Strom. VI. 14, 109: [Greek: pleon estin tou pisteusai to gnônai], Pistis is [Greek: gnôsis suntomos tôn katepeigontôn] (VII. 10. 57, see the whole chapter), Gnosis is [Greek: apodeixis tôn dia pisteôs pareilêmmenôn tê pistei epoikodomoumenê] (l.c.), [Greek: teleiôsis anthrôpou] (l.c.), [Greek: pistis epistêmonikê] (II. II. 48).] [Footnote 668: We have here more particularly to consider those paragraphs of the Stromateis where Clement describes the perfect Gnostic: the latter elevates himself by dispassionate love to God, is raised above everything earthly, has rid himself of ignorance, the root of all evil, and already lives a life like that of the angels. See Strom. VI. 9. 71, 72: [Greek: Oude gar endei ti autô pros exomôiosin tô kalô kai agathô einai oude ara philei tina tên koinên tautên philian, all' agapa ton ktistên dia tôn ktismatôn. Out' oun epithumia kai orexei tini peripiptei oute endeês esti kata ge tên psuchên tôn allôn tinos sunôn êdê di' agapês tô erastô, ô dê ôkeiôtai kata tên hairesin kai tê ex askêseos hexei, toutô prosechesteron sunengizôn, makarios ôn dia tên tôn agathôn periousian, ôste heneka ge toutôn exomoiousthai biazetai tô didaskalô eis apatheian.] Strom. VII. 69-83: VI. 14, 113: [Greek: houtôs dunamin labousa kuriakên hê psuchê meleta einai Theos, kakon men ouden allo plên agnoias einai nomizousa.] The whole 7th Book should be read.] [Footnote 669: Philo is quoted by Clement several times and still more frequently made use of without acknowledgment. See the copious citations in Siegfried, Philo von Alexandrien, pp. 343-351. In addition to this Clement made use of many Greek philosophers or quoted them without acknowledgment, e.g., Musonius.] [Footnote 670: Like Philo and Justin, Clement also no doubt at times asserts that the Greek philosophers pilfered from the Old Testament; but see Strom. I. 5. 28 sq.: [Greek: pantôn men aitios tôn kalôn ho Theos, alla tôn men kata proêgoumenon hôs tês te diathêkês tês palaias kai tês neas, tôn de kat' epakolouthêma hôs tês philosophias. tacha de kai proêgoumenôs tois Hellêsin edothê tote prin ê ton kyrion kalesai kai tous Hellênas. epaidagôgei gar kai autê to Hellênikon hôs ho nomos tous Hebraious eis Christon.]] [Footnote 671: See Bratke's instructive treatise cited above.] [Footnote 672: The fact that Clement appeals in support of the Gnosis to an esoteric tradition (Strom. VI. 7. 61: VI. 8. 68: VII. 10. 55) proves how much this writer, belonging as he did to a sceptical age, underestimated the efficacy of all human thought in determining the ultimate truth of things. The existence of sacred writings containing all truth was not even enough for him; the content of these writings had also to be guaranteed by divine communication. But no doubt the ultimate cause of this, as of all similar cases of scepticism, was the dim perception that ethics and religion do not at all come within the sphere of the intellectual, and that the intellect can produce nothing of religious value. As, however, in consequence of philosophical tradition, neither Philo, nor the Gnostics, nor Clement, nor the Neoplatonists were able to shake themselves free from the intellectual _scheme_, those things which--as they instinctively felt, but did not recognise--could really not be ascertained by knowledge at all received from them the name of _suprarational_ and were traced to divine revelation. We may say that the extinction or pernicious extravagancies to which Greek philosophy was subjected in Neoplatonism, and the absurdities into which the Christian dogmatic was led, arose from the fact that the tradition of placing the ethical and religious feelings and the development of character within the sphere of knowledge, as had been the case for nearly a thousand years, could not be got rid of, though the incongruity was no doubt felt. Contempt for empiricism, scepticism, the extravagancies of religious metaphysics which finally become mythology, have their origin here. Knowledge still continues to be viewed as the highest possession; it is, however, no longer knowledge, but character and feeling; and it must be nourished by the fancy in order to be able to assert itself as knowledge.] [Footnote 673: Clement was not a Neoplatonic mystic in the strict sense of the word. When he describes the highest ethical ideal, ecstasy is wanting; and the freshness with which he describes Quietism shows that he himself was no Quietist. See on this point Bigg's third lecture, l.c., particularly p. 98 f. "... The silent prayer of the Quietist is in fact ecstasy, of which there is not a trace in Clement. For Clement shrank from his own conclusions. Though the father of all the Mystics he is no Mystic himself. He did not enter the 'enchanted garden,' which he opened for others. If he talks of 'flaying the sacrifice,' of leaving sense behind, of Epopteia, this is but the parlance of his school. The instrument to which he looks for growth in knowledge is not trance, but disciplined reason. Hence Gnosis, when once obtained, is indefectible, not like the rapture which Plotinus enjoyed but four times during his acquaintance with Porphyry, which in the experience of Theresa never lasted more than half an hour. The Gnostic is no Visionary, no Theurgist, no Antinomian."] [Footnote 674: What a bold and joyous thinker Clement was is shown by the almost audacious remark in Strom. IV. 22. 136: [Greek: ei goun tis kath' hypothesin protheiê tô gnôstikô poteron helesthai bouloito tên gnôsin tou Theou ê tên sôtêrian tên aiônian, ein de tauta kechôrismena pantos mallon en tautotête onta, oude kath' otioun distasas heloit an tên gnôsin tou Theou.]] [Footnote 675: Strom. VII. 1. 1. In several passages of his main work Clement refers to those churchmen who viewed the practical and speculative concentration of Church tradition as dangerous and questioned the use of philosophy at all. See Strom. VI. 10. 80: [Greek: polloi kathaper hoi paides ta mormolukeia, houtôs dediasi tên hellênikên philosophian, phoboumenoi mê apagagê autous]. VI. 11. 93.] [Footnote 676: Eusebius, H. E. VI. 14. 8, tells us that Origen was a disciple of Clement.] [Footnote 677: Clement's authority in the Church continued much longer than that of Origen. See Zahn, "Forschungen" III. p. 140 f. The heterodox opinions advanced by Clement in the Hypotyposes are for the most part only known to us in an exaggerated form from the report of Photius.] [Footnote 678: In ecclesiastical antiquity all systematising was merely relative and limited, because the complex of sacred writings enjoyed a different authority from that which it possessed in the following period. Here the reference of a theologoumenon to a passage of Scripture was of itself sufficient, and the manifold and incongruous doctrines were felt as a unity in so far as they could all be verified from Holy Scriptures. Thus the fact that the Holy Scriptures were regarded as a series of divine oracles guaranteed, as it were, a transcendental unity of the doctrines, and, in certain circumstances, relieved the framer of the system of a great part of his task. Hitherto little justice has been done to this view of the history of dogma, though it is the only solution of a series of otherwise insoluble problems. We cannot for example understand the theology of Augustine, and necessarily create for ourselves the most difficult problems by our own fault, if we make no use of that theory. In Origen's dogmatic and that of subsequent Church Fathers--so far as we can speak of a dogmatic in their case--the unity lies partly in the canon of Holy Scripture and partly in the ultimate aim; but these two principles interfere with each other. As far as the Stromateis of Clement is concerned, Overbeek (l.c.) has furnished the explanation of its striking plan. Moreover, how would it have been conceivable that the riches of Holy Scripture, as presented to the philosophers who allegorised the books, could have been mastered, problems and all, at the first attempt.] [Footnote 679: See the treatises of Huetius (1668) reprinted by Lommatzsch. Thomasius, Origenes 1837. Redepenning, Origenes, 2 Vols. 1841-46. Denis, de la philosophie d'Origène, Paris 1884. Lang, Die Leiblichkeit der Vernunftwesen bei Origenes, Leipzig, 1892. Mehlhorn, Die Lehre von der menschlichen Freiheit nach Origenes (Zeitschrift für Kirchengeschichte, Vol. II., p. 234 ff.). Westcott, Origenes, in the Dictionary of Christian Biography Vol. IV. Moller in Herzog's Real-Encyklopädie, 2nd ed., Vol. XI., pp. 92-109. The special literature is to be found there as well as in Nitzsch, Dogmengeschichte I., p. 151, and Ueberweg, Grundriss der Geschichte der Philosophie, 5th ed, p. 62 f.] [Footnote 680: See his letter in Eusebius, H. E. VI. 19. 11 ff.] [Footnote 681: In the polemic against Celsus it seems to us in not a few passages as if the feeling for truth had forsaken him. If we consider, however, that in Origen's idea the premises of his speculation were unassailable, and if we further consider into what straits he was driven by Celsus, we will conclude that no proof has been advanced of Origen's having sinned against the current rules of truth. These, however, did not include the commandment to use in disputation only such arguments as could be employed in a positive doctrinal presentation. Basilius (Ep. 210 ad prim. Neocæs) was quite ready to excuse an utterance of Gregory Thaumaturgus, that sounded suspiciously like Sabellianism, by saying that the latter was not speaking [Greek: dogmatikôs], but [Greek: agônistikôs]. Jerome also (ad Pammach. ep 48, c. 13), after defending the right of writing [Greek: gymnastikôs], expressly said that all Greek philosophers "have used many words to conceal their thoughts, threaten in one place, and deal the blow in another." In the same way, according to him, Origen, Methodius, Eusebius, and Apollinaris had acted in the dispute with Celsus and Porphyry. "Because they are sometimes compelled to say, not what they themselves think, but what is necessary for their purpose; they do this only in the struggle with the heathen."] [Footnote 682: See, above all, the systematic main work "[Greek: peri archôn]".] [Footnote 683: Many writings of Origen are pervaded by arguments, evincing equal discretion and patience, against the Christians who contest the right of science in the Church. In the work against Celsus, however, he was not unfrequently obliged to abandon the simple Christians. C. Celsus III. 78: V. 14-24 are particularly instructive.] [Footnote 684: In this point Origen is already narrower than Clement. Free judgments, such as were passed by Clement on Greek philosophy, were not, so far as I know, repeated by Origen. (See especially Clement, Strom. I. 5. 28-32: 13. 57, 58 etc.); yet he also acknowledges revelations of God in Greek philosophy (see, _e.g._, c. Cels. VI. 3), and the Christian doctrine is to him the completion of Greek philosophy (see the remains of Origen's lost Stromateis and Hom. XIV. in Genes. § 3; other passages in Redepenning II., p. 324 ff.).] [Footnote 685: We must here content ourselves with merely pointing out that the method of scientific Scriptural exegesis also led to historico-critical investigations, that accordingly Origen and his disciples were also critics of the tradition, and that scientific theology, in addition to the task of remodelling Christianity, thus began at its very origin the solution of another problem, namely, the critical restoration of Christianity from the Scriptures and tradition and the removal of its excrescences: for these efforts, strictly speaking, do not come up for consideration in the history of dogma.] [Footnote 686: The theory that justified a twofold morality in the Church is now completely legitimised, but the higher form no longer appears as Encratite and eschatological, but as Encratite and philosophical. See, for example, Clement, Strom. III. 12. 82: VI. 13. 106 etc. Gnosis is the principle of perfection. See Strom. IV. 7. 54: [Greek: prokeitai de tois eis teleiôsin speudousin hê gnôsis hê logikê hês themelios hê agia trias pistis, agapê, elpis].] [Footnote 687: See the preface to the work [Greek: peri archôn].] [Footnote 688: From the conclusion of Hippolytus' Philosophoumena it is also evident how the Socratic [Greek: Gnôthi seauton] was in that age based on a philosophy of religion and was regarded as a watchword in wide circles. See Clem. Pædag. III. 11. 1.] [Footnote 689: See Gregory Thaumaturgus' panegyric on Origen, one of the most instructive writings of the 3rd century, especially cc. 11-18.] [Footnote 690: Yet all excesses are repudiated. See Clem. Strom. IV. 22. 138: [Greek: Ouk egkratês outos eti, all' en hexei gegonen apatheias schêma theion ependusasthai anamenôn]. Similar remarks are found in Origen.] [Footnote 691: In many passages of Clement the satisfaction in knowledge appears in a still more pronounced form than in Origen. The boldest expression of it is Strom. IV. 22. 136. This passage is quoted above on p. 328.] [Footnote 692: See the beautiful prayer of the Christian Gnostic in Strom. IV. 23. 148.] [Footnote 693: See Strom. IV. 26. 172: Origen's commentaries are continually interrupted by similar outbursts of feeling.] [Footnote 694: On deification as the ultimate aim see Clem., Strom. IV. 23. 149-155: VII. 10. 56, 13. 82, 16. 95: [Greek: houtôs ho tô kuriô peithomenos kai tê dotheisê di' autou katakolouthêsas prophêteia teleôs ekteleitai kat' eikona tou didaskalou en sarki peripolôn Theos]. But note what a distinction Clement makes between [Greek: ho Theos] and the perfect man in VII. 15. 88 (in contradistinction to the Stoic identification); Origen does this also.] [Footnote 695: Gregory (l.c., c. 13) relates that all the works of the poets and philosophers were read in Origen's school, and that every part of these works that would stand the test was admitted. Only the works of atheists were excluded, "because these overpass the limits of human thought." However, Origen did not judge philosophers in such an unprejudiced manner as Clement, or, to speak more correctly, he no longer valued them so highly. See Bigg, l.c., p. 133, Denis l.c. Introd.] [Footnote 696: See, for example, c. Cels. V. 43: VII. 47, 59 sq. He compared Plato and other wise men to those doctors who give their attention only to cultured patients.] [Footnote 697: See, for example, c. Cels. VI. 2.] [Footnote 698: C. Cels. V. 43.] [Footnote 699: One of Origen's main ideas, which we everywhere meet with, particularly in the work against Celsus (see, for example, VI. 2) is the thought that Christ has come to improve all men according to their several capacities, and to lead some to the highest knowledge. This conception appears to fall short of the Christian ideal and perhaps really does so; but as soon as we measure it not by the Gospel but by the aims of Greek philosophy, we see very clearly the progress that has been attained through this same Gospel. What Origen has in his eye is mankind, and he is anxious for the amendment not merely of a few, but of all. The actual state of things in the Church no longer allowed him to repeat the exclamations of the Apologists that all Christians were philosophers and that all were filled with the same wisdom and virtue. These exclamations were naïve and inappropriate even for that time. But he could already estimate the relative progress made by mankind within the Church as compared with those outside her pale, saw no gulf between the growing and the perfect, and traced the whole advance to Christ. He expressly declared, c. Cels. III. 78, that the Christianity which is fitted for the comprehension of the multitude is not the best doctrine in an absolute, but only in a relative, sense; that the "common man", as he expresses himself, must be reformed by the prospect of rewards and punishments; and that the truth can only be communicated to him in veiled forms and images, as to a child. The very fact, however, that the Logos in Jesus Christ has condescended so to act is to Origen a proof of the universality of Christianity. Moreover, many of the wonderful phenomena reported in the Holy Scriptures belong in his opinion to the veiled forms and images. He is very far from doing violence to his reason here; he rather appeals to mysterious powers of the soul, to powers of divination, visionary states etc. His standpoint in this case is wholly that of Celsus (see particularly the instructive disquisition in I. 48), in so far as he is convinced that many unusual things take place between heaven and earth, and that individual names, symbols etc. possess a mysterious power (see, for example, c. Cels. V. 45). The views as to the relationship between knowledge and holy initiation or _sacramentum_ are those of the philosophers of the age. He thinks, however, that each individual case requires to be examined, that there can be no miracles not in accordance with nature, but that on the contrary everything must fit into a higher order. As the letter of the precepts in both Testaments frequently contains things contrary to reason (see [Greek: peri archôn] IV. 2. 8-27) in order to lead men to the spiritual interpretation, and as many passages contain no literal sense at all (l.c. § 12), so also, in the historical narratives, we frequently discover a mythical element from which consequently nothing but the idea is to be evolved (l.c. § 16 sq.: "Non solum de his, quæ usque ad adventum Christi scripta sunt, hæc Spiritus sanctus procuravit, sed ... eadem similiter etiam in evangelistis et apostolis fecit. Nam ne illas quidem narrationes, quas per eos inspiravit, absque huiuscemodi, quam supra exposuimus, sapientiæ suæ arte contexuit. Unde etiam in ipsis non parva promiscuit, quibus historialis narrandi ordo interpolates, vel intercisus per impossibilitatem sui reflecteret atque revocaret intentionem legentis ad intelligentiæ interioris examen.") In all such cases Origen makes uniform use of the two points of view, that God wished to present something even to the simple and to incite the more advanced to spiritual investigations. In some passages, however, the former point of view fails, because the content of the text is offensive; in that case it is only the second that applies. Origen therefore was very far from finding the literal content of Scripture edifying in every instance, indeed, in the highest sense, the letter is not edifying at all. He rather adopted, to its widest extent, the critical method employed by the Gnostics particularly when dealing with the Old Testament; but the distinction he made between the different senses of Scripture and between the various legitimate human needs enabled him to preserve both the unity of God and the harmony of revelation. Herein, both in this case and everywhere else, lies the superiority of his theology. Read especially c. Celsum I. 9-12. After appealing to the twofold religion among the Egyptians, Persians, Syrians, and Indians--the mythical religion of the multitude and the mystery-religion of the initiated--he lays down exactly the same distinction within Christianity, and thus repels the reproach of Celsus that the Christians were obliged to accept everything without examination. With regard to the mythical form of Christianity he merely claims that it is the most suitable among religions of this type. Since, as a matter of fact, the great majority of men have neither time nor talent for philosophy, [Greek: poia an allê beltiôn methodos pros to tois pollois boêthêsai heuretheiê, tês apo tou Iêsou tois ethnesi paradotheisês] (l.c., 9). This thought is quite in the spirit of antiquity, and neither Celsus nor Porphyry could have any fault to find with these arguments in point of form: all positive religions have a mythical element; the true religion therefore lies behind the religions. But the novelty which neither Celsus nor Porphyry could recognise lies in the acknowledgment that the one religion, even in its mythical form, is unique and divine, and in the demand that all men, so far as they cannot attain the highest knowledge, must subject themselves to this mythical religion and no other. In this claim Origen rejected the ancient contrast between the multitude and the initiated just as he repudiated polytheism; and in this, if I see rightly, his historical greatness consists. He everywhere recognised gradations tending in the same direction and rejected polytheism.] [Footnote 700: Bigg (l.c., p. 154) has rightly remarked: "Origen in point of method differs most from Clement, who not unfrequently leaves us in doubt as to the precise Scriptural basis of his ideas."] [Footnote 701: Note, for example, § 8, where it is said that Origen adopted the allegorical method from the Stoic philosophers and applied it to the Jewish writings. On Origen's hermeneutic principles in their relation to those of Philo see Siegfried, l.c., pp. 351-62. Origen has developed them fully and clearly in the 4th Book of [Greek: peri archôn].] [Footnote 702: See Overbeck, Theologische Literatur-Zeitung, 1878, Col. 535.] [Footnote 703: A full presentation of Origen's theology would require many hundreds of pages, because he introduced everything worth knowing into the sphere of theology, and associated with the Holy Scriptures, verse by verse, philosophical maxims, ethical reflexions, and results of physical science, which would require to be drawn on the widest canvas, because the standpoint selected by Origen allowed the most extensive view and the most varied judgments. The case was similar with Clement before him, and also with Tertullian. This is a necessary result of "Scripture theology" when one takes it up in earnest. Tertullian assumes, for example, that there must be a Christian doctrine of dreams. Why? Because we read of dreams in the Holy Scriptures.] [Footnote 704: In c. Cels. III. 61 it is said (Lommatzsch XVIII., p. 337): [Greek: epemphthê oun Theos logos katho men iatros tois hamartôlois, katho de didaskalos theiôn mustêrion tois êdê katharois kai mêketi hamartanousin.] See also what follows. In Comment. in John I. 20 sq. the crucified Christ, as the Christ of faith, is distinguished from the Christ who takes up his abode in us, as the Christ of the perfect. See 22 (Lomm. I. p. 43): [Greek: kai makarioi ge hosoi deomenoi tou huiou tou Theou toioutoi gegonasin, hôs mêketi autou chrazein iatrou tous kakôs hechontas therapeuontos, mêde poimenos, mêde apolutrôseôs, alla sophias kai logou kai dikaiosunês, hê ei ti allo tois dia teleiotêta chôrein autou ta kallista dunamenois.] Read also c. Cels. II. 66, 69: IV. 15, 18: VI. 68. These passages show that the crucified Christ is no longer of any account to the Gnostic, and that he therefore allegorises all the incidents described in the Gospels. Clement, too, really regards Christ as of no importance to Gnostics except as a teacher.] [Footnote 705: Comment, in Joh. I. 9, Lomm. I. p, 20. The "mysteries" of Christ is the technical term for this theology and, at bottom, for all theology. For, in respect of the form given to it, revelation always appears as a problem that theology has to solve. What is revealed is therefore either to be taken as immediate authority (by the believer) or as a soluble problem. One thing, accordingly, it is not, namely, something in itself evident and intelligible.] [Footnote 706: See Nitzsch, Dogmengeschichte, p. 136.] [Footnote 707: To Origen the problem of evil was one of the most important; see Book III. of [Greek: peri archôn] and c. Cels. VI. 53-59. He is convinced (1) that the world is not the work of a second, hostile God; (2) that virtues and the works arising from them are alone good in the proper sense of the word, and that nothing but the opposite of these is bad; (3) that evil in the proper sense of the word is only evil will (see c. Cels. IV. 66: VI. 54). Accordingly he makes a very decided distinction between that which is bad and evils. As for the latter he admits that they partly originate from God, in which case they are designed as means of training and punishment. But he saw that this conception is insufficient, both in view of individual passages of Holy Scripture and of natural experience. There are evils in the world that can be understood neither as the result of sin nor as means of training. Here then his relative, rational view of things comes in, even with respect to the power of God. There are evils which are a necessary consequence of carrying out even the best intentions (c. Cels. VI. 53: [Greek: ta kaka ek parakolouthêseôs gegenêtai tês pros ta proêgoumena]): "Evils, in the strict sense, are not created by God; yet some, though but few in comparison with the great, well-ordered whole of the world, have of necessity adhered to the objects realised; as the carpenter who executes the plan of a building does not manage without chips and similar rubbish, or as architects cannot be made responsible for the dirty heaps of broken stones and filth one sees at the sites of buildings;" (l.c., c. 55). Celsus also might have written in this strain. The religious, absolute view is here replaced by a rational, and the world is therefore not the best absolutely, but the best possible. See the Theodicy in [Greek: peri archôn] III. 17-22. (Here, and also in other parts, Origen's Theodicy reminds us of that of Leibnitz; see Denis, l.c., p. 626 sq. The two great thinkers have a very great deal in common, because their philosophy was not of a radical kind, but an attempt to give a rational interpretation to tradition.) But "for the great mass it is sufficient when they are told that evil has not its origin in God" (IV. 66). The case is similar with that which is really bad. It is sufficient for the multitude to know that that which is bad springs from the freedom of the creature, and that matter which is inseparable from things mortal is not the source and cause of sin (IV. 66, see also III, 42: [Greek: to kuriôs miaron apo kakias toiouton esti. Phusis de sômatos ou miara ou gar hê phusis sômatos esti, to gennêtikon tês miarotêtos echei tên kakian]); but a closer examination shows that there can be no man without sin (III. 6l) because error is inseparable from growth and because the constitution of man in the flesh makes evil unavoidable (VII. 50). Sinfulness is therefore natural and it is the necessary _prius_. This thought, which is also not foreign to Irenæus, is developed by Origen with the utmost clearness. He was not content with proving it, however, but in order to justify God's ways proceeded to the assumption of a Fall before time began (see below).] [Footnote 708: See Mehlhorn, Die Lehre von der menschlichen Freiheit nach Origenes (Zeitschrift fur Kirchengeschichte, Vol. II., p. 234 ff.)] [Footnote 709: The distinction between Valentinus and Origen consists in the fact that the former makes an æon or, in other words, a part of the divine _pleroma_, itself fall, and that he does not utilise the idea of freedom. The outline of Origen's system cannot be made out with complete clearness from the work [Greek: peri archôn], because he endeavoured to treat each of the first three parts as a whole. Origen's four principles are God, the World, Freedom, Revelation (Holy Scripture). Each principle, however, is brought into relation with Christ. The first part treats of God and the spirits, and follows the history of the latter down to their restoration. The second part treats of the world and humanity, and likewise closes with the prospect of the resurrection, punishment in hell, and eternal life. Here Origen makes a magnificent attempt to give a conception of bliss and yet to exclude all sensuous joys. The third book treats of sin and redemption, that is, of freedom of will, temptation, the struggle with the powers of evil, internal struggles, the moral aim of the world, and the restoration of all things. A special book on Christ is wanting, for Christ is no "principle"; but the incarnation is treated of in II. 6. The teachers of Valentinus' school accordingly appear more Christian when contrasted with Origen. If we read the great work [Greek: peri archôn], or the treatise against Celsus, or the commentaries connectedly, we never cease to wonder how a mind so clear, so sure of the ultimate aim of all knowledge, and occupying such a high standpoint, has admitted in details all possible views down to the most naive myths, and how he on the one hand believes in holy magic, sacramental vehicles and the like, and on the other, in spite of all his rational and even empirical views, betrays no doubt of his abstract creations. But the problem that confronts us in Origen is that presented by his age. This we realise on reading Celsus or Porphyry (see Denis l.c., p. 613: "Toutes les théories d'Origène, même les plus imaginaires, représent l'état intellectuel et moral du siècle où il a paru"). Moreover, Origen is not a teacher who, like Augustine, was in advance of his time, though he no doubt anticipated the course of ecclesiastical development. This age, as represented by its greatest men, sought to gain a substructure for something new, not by a critical examination of the old ideas, but by incorporating them all into one whole. People were anxious to have assurance, and, in the endeavour to find this, they were nervous about giving up any article of tradition. The boldness of Origen, judged as a Greek philosopher, lies in his rejection of all polytheistic religions. This made him all the more conservative in his endeavours to protect and incorporate everything else. This conservatism welded together ecclesiastical Christianity and Greek culture into a system of theology which was indeed completely heterodox.] [Footnote 710: The proof from prophecy was reckoned by Origen among the articles belonging to faith, but not to Gnosis (see for ex. c. Cels. II. 37); but, like the Apologists, he found it of great value. As far as the philosophers are concerned, Origen always bore in mind the principle expressed in c. Cels. VII. 46: [Greek: pros tauta d'êmeis phêsomen hoi meletêsantes mêdeni apechthanesthai tôn kalôs legomenôn; kan hoi hexô tês pisteôs legôusi kalôs.] In that same place it is asserted that God in his love has not only revealed himself to such as entirely consecrate themselves to his service, but also to such as do not know the true adoration and reverence which he requires. But as remarked above, p. 338, Origen's attitude to the Greek philosophers is much more reserved than that of Clement.] [Footnote 711: See, for ex., c. Cels. VI. 6, Comment in Johann. XIII. 59, Lomm. II., p. 9 sq.] [Footnote 712: [Greek: Peri archôn] preface.] [Footnote 713: On Origen's exegetical method see Kihn, Theodor v. Mopsu. p. 20 ff., Bigg, l.c. p. 131 ff. On the distinction between his application of the allegorical method and that of Clement see specially p. 134 f. of the latter work.] [Footnote 714: Origen noted several such passages in the very first chapter of Genesis. Examples are given in Bigg, p. 137 f.] [Footnote 715: Bigg, l.c., has very appropriately named Origen's allegorism "Biblical alchemy".] [Footnote 716: To ascertain the pneumatic sense, Origen frequently drew analogies between the domain of the cosmic and that of the spiritual. He is thus a forerunner of modern idealistic philosophers, for example, Drummond: "To Origen allegorism is only one manifestation of the sacramental mystery of nature" (Bigg, p. 134).] [Footnote 717: See Hom in Luc. XXIX., Lomm. V., p. 193 sq.] [Footnote 718: Since Origen does not, as a rule, dispute the literal meaning of the Scriptures, he has also a much more favourable opinion of the Jewish people and of the observance of the law than the earlier Christian authors (but see Iren. and Tertull.). At bottom he places the observance of the law quite on the same level as the faith of the simple Christians. The Apostles also kept the law for a time, and it was only by degrees that they came to understand its spiritual meaning. They were also right to continue its observance during their mission among the Jews. On the other hand, he considers the New Testament a higher stage than the Old both in its literal and its spiritual sense. See c. Cels. II. 1-4, 7, 75: IV. 31 sq: V. 10, 30, 31, 42 sq., 66: VII. 26.] [Footnote 719: In opposition to the method for obtaining a knowledge of God, recommended by Alcinous (c. 12), Maximus Tyr. (XVII. 8), and Celsus (by analysis [apophat.], synthesis [kataphat.], and analogy), Origen, c. Cels. VII. 42, 44, appeals to the fact that the Christian knows God better, namely, in his incarnate Son. But he himself, nevertheless, also follows the synthetic method.] [Footnote 720: In defining the superessential nature of the One, Origen did not go so far as the Basilidians (Philosoph. VII. 20, 21) or as Plotinus. No doubt he also regards the Deity as [Greek: epekeina tês ousias] (c. Cels. VII. 42-51; [Greek: peri archôn] I. 1; Clement made a closer approach to the heretical abstractions of the Gnostics inasmuch as he still more expressly renounced any designation of God; see Strom. V. 12, 13), but he is not [Greek: buthos] and [Greek: sigê], being rather a self-comprehending Spirit, and therefore does not require a hypostasis (the [Greek: nous]) before he can come to himself. Accordingly the human intellect is not incapable of soaring up to God as the later Neoplatonists assert; at least vision is by no means so decidedly opposed to thought, that is, elevated above it as something new, as is held by the Neoplatonists and Philo before them. Origen is no mystic. In accordance with this conception Origen and Clement say that the perfect knowledge of God can indeed be derived from the Logos alone (c. Cels VII. 48, 49: VI. 65-73; Strom. V. 12. 85: VI. 15. 122), but that a relative knowledge may be deduced from creation (c. Cels. VII. 46). Hence they also spoke of an innate knowledge of God (Protrept. VI. 68; Strom. V. 13. 78), and extended the teleological proof of God furnished by Philo ([Greek: peri archôn] I. 1. 6; c. Cels I. 23). The relatively correct predicates of God to be determined from revelation are his unity (c. Cels I. 23), his absolute spirituality ([Greek: pneuma asômatos, aulos, aschêmatistos])--this is maintained both in opposition to Stoicism and anthropomorphism; see Orig. [Greek: peri archôn] I. 1, Origen's polemic against Melito's conception of God, and Clem., Strom. V. 11. 68: V. 12. 82,--his unbegottenness, his immortality (this is eternity conceived as enjoyment; the eternity of God itself, however, is to be conceived, according to Clement, as that which is above time; see Strom. II. 2. 6), and his absolute causality. All these concepts together constitute the conception of perfection. See Fischer, De Orig. theologia et cosmologia, 1840.] [Footnote 721: Orig. [Greek: peri archôn] II. 1. 3.] [Footnote 722: C. Cels V. 23.] [Footnote 723: L.c.] [Footnote 724: [Greek: Peri archôn] II. 9. 1: "Certum est, quippe quod præfinito aliquo apud se numero creaturas fecit: non enim, ut quidam volunt, finem putandum est non habere creaturas; quia ubi finis non est, nec comprehensio ulla nec circumscriptio esse potest. Quod si fuerit utique nee contineri vel dispensari a deo, quæ facta sunt, poterunt. Naturaliter nempe quicquid infinitum fuerit, et incomprehensibile erit." In Matth., t. 13., c. 1 fin., Lomm. III., p. 209 sq.] [Footnote 725: See above, p. 343, note 2.] [Footnote 726: See c. Cels. II. 20.] [Footnote 727: Clement also did so; see with respect to Origen [Greek: peri archôn] II. 5, especially § 3 sq.] [Footnote 728: See Comment. in Johann. I. 40, Lomm. I. p. 77 sq. I cannot agree that this view is a _rapprochement_ to the Marcionites (contrary to Nitzsch's opinion, l.c., p. 285). The confused accounts in Epiph., H. 43. 13 are at any rate not to be taken into account.] [Footnote 729: Clement's doctrine of the Logos, to judge from the Hypotyposes, was perhaps different from that of Origen. According to Photius (Biblioth. 109) Clement assumed two Logoi (Origen indeed was also reproached with the same; see Pamphili Apol., Routh, Reliq. S., IV., p. 367), and did not even allow the second and weaker one to make a real appearance on earth; but this is a misunderstanding (see Zahn, Forschungen III., p. 144). [Greek: Legetai men]--these are said to have been the words of a passage in the Hypotyposes--[Greek: kai ho huios logos homônumôs tô patrikô logô, all' ouch outos estin ho sarx genomenos, oude men ho patrôos logos, alla dynamis tis tou Theou, oion apporoia tou logou autou nous genomenos tas tôn anthrôpôn kardias diapephoitêke]. The distinction between an impersonal Logos-God and the Logos-Christ necessarily appeared as soon as the Logos was definitely hypostatised. In the so-called Monarchian struggles of the 3rd century the disputants made use of these two Logoi, who formed excellent material for sophistical discussions. In the Strom. Clement did not reject the distinction between a [Greek: logos endiathetos] and [Greek: prophorikos] (on Strom. V. 1. 6. see Zahn, l.c., p. 145 against Nitzsch), and in many passages expresses himself in such a way that one can scarcely fail to notice a distinction between the Logos of the Father and that of the Son. "The Son-Logos is an emanation of the Reason of God, which unalterably remains in God and is the Logos proper." If the Adumbrationes are to be regarded as parts of the Hypotyposes, Clement used the expression [Greek: homoousios] for the Logos, or at least an identical one (See Zahn, Forschungen III., pp. 87-138 f.). This is the more probable because Clement, Strom. 16. 74, expressly remarked that men are not [Greek: meros theou kai tô Theô homoousioi], and because he says in Strom. IV. 13. 91: [Greek: ei epi to katalusai thanaton aphikneitai to diapheron genos, ouch ho Christos ton thanaton katêrgêsen, ei mê kai autos autois homoousios lechtheiê]. One must assume from this that the word was really familiar to Clement as a designation of the community of nature, possessed by the Logos, both with God and with men. See Protrept. 10. 110: [Greek: ho theios logos, ho phanerôtatos ontôs Theos, ho tô despotê tôn holôn exisôtheis]). In Strom. V. I. 1 Clement emphatically declared that the Son was equally eternal with the Father: [Greek: ou mên oude ho patêr aneu huiou hama gar tô patêr huiou patêr] (see also Strom. IV. 7. 58: [Greek: hen mên to agennêton ho pantokratôr, en de kai to progennêthen di' ou ta panta egeneto], and Adumbrat. in Zahn, l.c., p. 87, where 1 John I. 1 is explained: "principium generationis separatum ab opificis principio non est. Cum enim dicit 'quod erat ab initio' generationem tangit sine principio filii cum patre simul exstantis." See besides the remarkable passage, Quis dives salv. 37: [Greek: Theô ta tês agapês mystêria, kai tote epopteuseis ton kolpon tou patros, hon ho monogenês huios Theos monos exêgêsato esti de kai autos ho Theos agapê kai di' agapên hêmin anekrathê kai to men arrêton autou patêr, to de hêmin sympathes gegone mêtêr agapêsas ho patêr ethêlunthê, kai toutou mega sêmeion, hon autos egennêsen ex autou kai ho techtheis ex agapês karpos agapê]. But that does not exclude the fact that he, like Origen, named the Son [Greek: ktisma] (Phot., l.c.). In the Adumbrat. (p. 88) Son and Spirit are called "primitivæ virtutes ac primo creatæ, immobiles exsistentes secundum substantiam". That is exactly Origen's doctrine, and Zahn (l.c., p. 99) has rightly compared Strom. V. 14. 89: VI. 7. 58; and Epit. ex Theod. 20. The Son stands at the head of the series of created beings (Strom. VII. 2. 5; see also below), but he is nevertheless specifically different from them by reason of his origin. It may be said in general that the fine distinctions of the Logos doctrine in Clement and Origen are to be traced to the still more abstract conception of God found in the former. A sentence like Strom. IV. 25. 156 ([Greek: ho men oun Theos anapodeiktos ôn ouk estin epistêmonikos, ho de huios sophia te esti kai epistêmê]) will hardly be found in Origen I think. Cf. Schultz, Gottheit Christi, p. 45 ff.] [Footnote 730: See Schultz, l.c., p. 51 ff. and Jahrbuch fur protestantische Theologie I. pp. 193 ff. 369 ff.] [Footnote 731: It is very remarkable that Origen [Greek: peri archôn] I. 2. 1 in his presentation of the Logos doctrine, started with the person of Christ, though he immediately abandoned this starting-point "Primo illud nos oportere scire", so this chapter begins, "Quod aliud est in Christo deitatis eius natura, quod est unigenitus filius patris, et alia humana natura, quam in novissimis temporibus pro dispensatione suscepit. Propter quod videndum primo est, quid sit unigenitus filius dei."] [Footnote 732: [Greek: Peri archôn] I. 2. 2, 6.] [Footnote 733: The expression was familiar to Origen as to Justin (see Dial. c. Tryph). See c. Cels. V. 39: [Greek: Kai deuteron oun legômen Theon istôsan, hoti ton deuteron Theon ouk allo ti legomen, hê tên periektikên pasôn aretôn aretên kai ton periektikon pantos houtinosoun logou tôn kata physin kai proêgoumenôs gegenêmenôn.]] [Footnote 734: [Greek: Peri archôn] I. 2. 13 has been much corrupted by Rufinus. The passage must have been to the effect that the Son is indeed [Greek: agathos], but not, like the Father, [Greek: aparallaktôs agathos].] [Footnote 735: Selecta in Psalm., Lomm. XIII., p. 134; see also Fragm. comm. in ep. ad Hebr., Lomm. V., p. 299 sq.] [Footnote 736: L.c.: "Sic et sapientia ex deo procedens, ex ipsa substantia dei generatur. Sic nihilominus et secundum similitudinem corporalis aporrhoeæ esse dicitur aporrhoea gloriæ omnipotentis pura quædam et sincera. Quæ utræque similitudines (see the beginning of the passage) manifestissime ostendunt communionem substantiæ esse filio cum patre. Aporrhoea enim [Greek: homoousios] videtur, id est, unius substantiæ cum illo corpore, ex quo est vel aporrhoea vel vapor." In opposition to Heracleon Origen argues (in Joh. XIII. 25., Lomm. II., p. 43 sq.) that _we_ are not homousios with God: [Greek: epistêsômen de, ei me sphodra estin asebes homoousios tê agennêtô physei kai pammakaria einai legein tous proskunountas en pneumati tô Theô.] On the meaning of [Greek: homoousios] see Zahn, Marcell., pp. 11-32. The conception decidedly excludes the possibility of the two subjects connected by it having a different essence; but it says nothing about how they came to have one essence and in what measure they possess it. On the other hand it abolishes the distinction of persons the moment the essence itself is identified with the one person. Here then is found the Unitarian danger, which could only be averted by assertions. In some of Origen's teachings a modalistic aspect is also not quite wanting. See Hom. VIII. in Jerem. no. 2: [Greek: To men hupokeimenon hen esti, tais de epinoiais ta polla onomata epi diaphorôn]. Conversely, it is also nothing but an appearance when Origen (for ex. in c. Cels. VIII. 12) merely traces the unity of Father and Son to unity in feeling and in will. The charge of Ebionitism made against him is quite unfounded (see Pamphili Apol., Routh IV. p. 367).] [Footnote 737: [Greek: Ouk estin ote ouk ên], de princip. I. 2. 9; in Rom. I. 5.] [Footnote 738: [Greek: Peri archôn] I. 2. 2-9. Comm. in ep. ad. Hebr. Lomm. V., p. 296: "Nunquam est, quando filius non fuit. Erat autem non, sicut de æterna luce diximus, innatus, ne duo principia lucis videamur inducere, sed sicut ingenitæ lucis splendor, ipsam illam lucem initium habens ac fontem, natus quidem ex ipsa; sed non erat quando noa erat." See the comprehensive disquisition in [Greek: peri archôn] IV. 28, where we find the sentence: "hoc autem ipsum, quod dicimus, quia nunquam fuit, quando non fuit, cum venia audiendum est" etc. See further in Jerem. IX. 4, Lomm. XV., p. 212: [Greek: to apaugasma tês doxês ouchi hapax gegennêtai, kai ouchi gennatai ... kai aei gennatai ho sôtêr hupo tou patros]; see also other passages.] [Footnote 739: See Caspari, Quellen, Vol. IV., p. 10.] [Footnote 740: In [Greek: peri archôn] IV. 28 the _prolatio_ is expressly rejected (see also I. 2, 4) as well as the "conversio partis alicuius substantiæ dei in filium" and the "procreatio ex nullis substantibus."] [Footnote 741: L.c. I. 2. 2]. [Footnote 742: L.c. I. 2. 3]. [Footnote 743: De orat. 15: [Greek: Eteros kat' ousian kai hupokeimenon ho huios esti tou patros]. This, however, is not meant to designate a deity of a hybrid nature, but to mark the parsonal distinction.] [Footnote 744: C. Cels. VIII. 12.: [Greek: duo tê hypostasei pragmata]. This was frequently urged against the Monarchians in Origen's commentaries; see in Joh. X. 21: II. 6 etc. The Son exists [Greek: kat' idian tês ousias perigraphên]. Not that Origen has not yet the later terminology [Greek: ousia, hypostasis, hypokeimenon, prosôpon]. We find three hypostases in Joh. II. 6. Lomm. I., p. 109, and this is repeatedly the case in c. Cels.] [Footnote 745: In Joh. I. 22, Lomm. I., p. 41 sq.: [Greek: ho Theos men oun pantê hen esti kai aploun ho de sôtêr hêmôn dia ta polla]. The Son is [Greek: idea ideôn, systêma theôrêmatôn en autô](Lomm. I., p. 127).] [Footnote 746: See the remarks on the saying: "The Father is greater than I," in Joh. XIII. 25, Lomm. II., p. 45 sq. and other passages. Here Origen shows that he considers the homoousia of the Son and the Father just as relative as the unchangeability of the Son.] [Footnote 747: [Greek: Peri archôn] II. 2. 6 has been corrupted by Rufinus; see Jerome ep. ad Avitum.] [Footnote 748: See [Greek: Peri archôn] I. 2. 13 (see above, p. 354, note 3).] [Footnote 749: Athanasius supplemented this by determining the essence of the Logos from the redeeming work of Christ.] [Footnote 750: See [Greek: peri archôn] præf. and in addition to this Hermas' view of the Spirit.] [Footnote 751: [Greek: Peri archôn] I. 3. The Holy Spirit is eternal, is ever being breathed out, but is to be termed a creature. See also in Job. II. 6, Lomm. I., p. 109 sq.: [Greek: to hagion pneuma dia tou logou egeneto, presbuterou] (logically) [Greek: par' auto tou logou tugchanontos]. Yet Origen is not so confident here as in his Logos doctrine.] [Footnote 752: See [Greek: peri archôn] I. 3, 5-8. Hence Origen says the heathen had known the Father and Son, but not the Holy Spirit (de princip. I. 3: II. 7).] [Footnote 753: L.c. § 7.] [Footnote 754: See Hom. in Num. XII. I, Lomm. X, p. 127: "Est hæc trium distinctio personarum in patre et filio et spiritu sancto, quæ ad pluralem puteorum numerum revocatur. Sed horum puteorum unum est fons. Una enim substantia est et natura trinitatis."] [Footnote 755: [Greek: Peri archôn] præf.] [Footnote 756: From Hermas, Justin, and Athenagoras we learn how, in the 2nd century, both in the belief of uneducated lay-Christians and of the Apologists, Son, Spirit, Logos, and angels under certain circumstances shaded off into one another. To Clement, no doubt, Logos and Spirit are the only unchangeable beings besides God. But, inasmuch as there is a series which descends from God to men living in the flesh, there cannot fail to be elements of affinity between Logos and Spirit on the one hand and the highest angels on the other, all of whom indeed have the capacity and need of development. Hence they have certain names and predicates in common, and it frequently remains uncertain, especially as regards the theophanies in the Old Testament, whether it was a high angel that spoke, or the Son through the angel. See the full discussion in Zahn, Forschungen, III., p. 98 f.] [Footnote 757: [Greek: Peri archôn] I. 5.] [Footnote 758: So also Clement, see Zahn, l.c.] [Footnote 759: [Greek: Peri archôn] I. 5. 2.] [Footnote 760: It was of course created before the world, as it determines the course of the world. See Comm. in Matth. XV. 27, Lomm. III., p. 384 sq.] [Footnote 761: See Comm. in Joh. XIII. 25, Lomm. II, p. 45: we must not look on the human spirit as [Greek: homoousios] with the divine one. The same had already been expressly taught by Clement. See Strom., II. 16. 74: [Greek: ho Theos oudemian echei pros hêmas physikên schesin hôs hoi tôn haireseôn ktistai thelousin]. Adumbr., p. 91 (ed. Zahn). This does not exclude God and souls having _quodammodo_ one substance.] [Footnote 762: Such is the teaching of Clement and Origen. They repudiated the possession of any natural, essential goodness in the case of created spirits. If such lay in their essence, these spirits would be unchangeable.] [Footnote 763: [Greek: Peri archôn] I. 2. 10: "Quemadmodum pater non potest esse quis, si filius non sit, neque dominus quis esse potest sine possessione, sine servo, ita ne omnipotens quidem deus dici potest, si non sint, in quos exerceat potentatum, et deo ut omnipotens ostendatur deus, omnia subsistere necesse est." (So the Hermogenes against whom Tertullian wrote had already argued). "Nam si quis est, qui velit vel sæcula aliqua vel spatia transisse, vel quodcunque aliud nominare vult, cum nondum facta essent, quæ facta sunt, sine dubio hoc ostendet, quod in illis sæculis vel spatiis omnipotens non erat deus et postmodum omnipotens factus est." God would therefore, it is said in what follows, be subjected to a [Greek: prokopê], and thus be proved to be a finite being. III. 5. 3.] [Footnote 764: [Greek: Peri archôn] I. 8.] [Footnote 765: Here, however, Origen is already thinking of the temporary wrong development that is of growth. See [Greek: peri archôn] I. 7. Created spirits are also of themselves immaterial, though indeed not in the sense that this can be said of God who can never attach anything material to himself.] [Footnote 766: Angels, ideas (see Phot. Biblioth. 109), and human souls are most closely connected together, both according to the theory of Clement and Origen and also to that of Pantænus before them (see Clem. eclog. 56, 57); and so it was taught that men become angels (Clem. Strom. VI. 13. 107). But the stars also, which are treated in great detail in [Greek: peri archôn] I. 7, belong to the number of the angels. This is a genuinely Greek idea. The doctrine of the preëxistence of human souls was probably set forth by Clement in the Hypotyposes. The theory of the transmigration of souls was probably found there also (Phot. Biblioth. 109). In the Adumbrat., which has been preserved to us, the former doctrine is, however, contested and is not found in the Stromateis VI. 16. I. sq.] [Footnote 767: Phot. Biblioth. 109: [Greek: Klêmês pollous pro tou Adam kosmous terateuetai]. This cannot be verified from the Strom. Orig., [Greek: peri archôn] II. 3.] [Footnote 768: [Greek: Peri archôn] I. 5 and the whole 3rd Book. The Fall is something that happened before time began.] [Footnote 769: The assumption of uncreated matter was decidedly rejected by Origen ([Greek: peri archôn] II. 1, 2). On the other hand Clement is said to have taught it in the Hypotyposes (Phot., l.c.: [Greek: hulên archronon doxazei]); this cannot be noticed in the Strom.; in fact in VI. 16. 147 he vigorously contested the view of the uncreatedness of the world. He emphasised the agreement between Plato and Moses in the doctrine of creation (Strom. II. 16. 74 has nothing to do with this). According to Origen, matter has no qualities and may assume the most diverse peculiarities (see, e.g., c. Cels. III. 41).] [Footnote 770: This conception has given occasion to compare Origen's system with Buddhism. Bigg. (p. 193) has very beautifully said: "Creation, as the word is commonly understood, was in Origen's views not the beginning, but an intermediate phase in human history. Æons rolled away before this world was made; æons upon æons, days, weeks, months and years, sabbatical years, jubilee years of æons will run their course, before the end is attained. The one fixed point in this gigantic drama is the end, for this alone has been clearly revealed," "God shall be all in all." Bigg also rightly points out that Rom. VIII. and 1 Cor. XV. were for Origen the key to the solution of the problems presented by creation.] [Footnote 771: The popular idea of demons and angels was employed by Origen in the most comprehensive way, and dominates his whole view of the present course of the world. See [Greek: peri archôn] III. 2. and numerous passages in the Commentaries and Homilies, in which he approves the kindred views of the Greeks as well as of Hermas and Barnabas. The spirits ascend and descend; each man has his guardian spirit, and the superior spirits support the inferior ([Greek: peri archôn] I. 6). Accordingly they are also to be reverenced ([Greek: therapeuesthai]); yet such reverence as belongs to a Gabriel, a Michael, etc., is far different from the adoration of God (c. Cels. VIII. 13).] [Footnote 772: Clement wrote a special work [Greek: peri pronoias] (see Zahn, Forschungen III., p. 39 ff.), and treated at length of [Greek: pronoia] in the Strom.; see Orig. [Greek: peri archôn] III. 1; de orat. 6 etc. Evil is also subject to divine guidance; see Clem., Strom. I. 17. 81-87: IV. 12. 86 sq. Orig. Hom. in Num. XIV., Lomm. X., p. 163: "Nihil otiosum, nihil inane est apud deum, quia sive bono proposito hominis utitur ad bona sive malo ad necessaria." Here and there, however, Origen has qualified the belief in Providence, after the genuine fashion of antiquity (see c. Gels. IV. 74).] [Footnote 773: [Greek: Peri archôn] II. 9. 2: "Recedere a bono, non aliud est quam effici in malo. Ceterum namque est, malum esse bono canere. Ex quo accidit, ut in quanta mensura quis devolveretur a bono, in tantam mensuram malitiæ deveniret." In the passage in Johann. II. 7, Lomm. I., p. 115, we find a closely reasoned exposition of evil as [Greek: anupostaton] and an argument to the effect that [Greek: ta ponêra] are--[Greek: mê onta].] [Footnote 774: [Greek: Peri archôn] I. 5. 3: III. 6. The devil is the chief of the apostate angels (c. Cels. IV. 65). As a reasonable being he is a creature of God (l.c., and in Joh. II. 7, Lomm., l.c.).] [Footnote 775: Origen defended the teleology culminating in man against Celsus' attacks on it; but his assumption that the spirits of men are only a part of the universal spirit world is, as a matter of fact, quite akin to Celsus' view. If we consider the plan of the work [Greek: peri archôn] we easily see that to Origen humanity was merely an element in the cosmos.] [Footnote 776: The doctrine of man's threefold constitution is also found in Clement. See Pædag. III. 1. 1; Strom V. 14. 94: VI. 16. 134. (quite in the manner of Plato). Origen, who has given evidence of it in all his main writings, sometimes calls the rational part spirit, sometimes [Greek: psychê logikê], and at other times distinguishes two parts in the one soul. Of course he also professes to derive his psychology from the Holy Scriptures. The chief peculiarity of his speculation consists in his assumption that the human spirit, as a fallen one, became as it were a soul, and can develop from that condition partly into a spirit as before and partly into the flesh (see [Greek: peri archôn] III. 4. 1 sq.: II. 8. 1-5). By his doctrine of the preëxistence of souls Origen excluded both the creation and traducian hypotheses of the origin of the soul.] [Footnote 777: Clement (see Strom. II. 22. 131) gives the following as the opinion of some Christian teachers: [Greek: to men kat' eikona eutheôs kata tên genesin eilêphenai ton anthrôpon, to kath' homoiôsin de usteron kata tên peleiôsin mellein apolambanein]. Orig. c. Cels. IV. 30: [Greek: epoiête d'o Theos ton anthrôpon kat' eikona Theos, all' ouchi kath' homoiôsin êdê].] [Footnote 778: This follows from the fundamental psychological view and is frequently emphasised. One must attain the [Greek: sôphorsynê].] [Footnote 779: This is emphasised throughout. The goodness of God is shown first in his having given the creature reason and freedom, and secondly in acts of assistance, which, however, do not endanger freedom. Clem.; Strom. VI. 12, 96: [Greek: hêmas ex hêmôn autôn bouletai sôzesthai].] [Footnote 780: See above, p. 344, and p. 361, note 5. Origen continually emphasised the universality of sin in the strongest expressions: c. Cels. III. 61-66: VII. 50; Clem., Pæd. III. 12. 93: [Greek: to examartanein pasin emphyton].] [Footnote 781: See Clem., Strom. VII. 16. 101: [Greek: myriôn goun ontôn kat' arithmon ha prassousin anthrôpoi schedon duo eisin archai pasês hamartias, agnoia kai astheneia, amphô de eph' hêmin, tôn mête ethelontôn manthanein mête au tês epithymias kratein]. Two remedies correspond to this (102): [Greek: hê gnôsis te kai hê tês ek tôn graphôn martyrias enargês apodeixis] and [Greek: hê kata logon askêsis ek pisteôs te kai phobou paidagôgoumenê], or otherwise expressed: [Greek: hê theôria hê epistêmonikê] and [Greek: hê praxis] which lead to perfect love.] [Footnote 782: Freedom is not prejudiced by the idea of election that is found here and there, for this idea is not worked out. In Clem., Strom. VI. 9. 76, it is said of the friend of God, the true Gnostic, that God has destined ([Greek: proôrisen]) him to sonship before the foundation of the world. See VII. 17. 107.] [Footnote 783: C. Cels. III. 69.] [Footnote 784: It is both true that men have the same freedom as Adam and that they have the same evil instincts. Moreover, Origen conceived the story of Adam symbolically. See c. Cels. IV. 40; [Greek: peri archôn] IV. 16; in Levit. hom. VI. 2. In his later writings, after he had met with the practice of child baptism in Cæsarea and prevailed on himself to regard it as apostolic, he also assumed the existence of a sort of hereditary sin originating with Adam, and added it to his idea of the preëxisting Fall. Like Augustine after him, he also supposed that there was an inherent pollution in sexual union; see in Rom. V. 9: VII. 4; in Lev. hom. VIII. 3; in Num. hom. 2 (Bigg, p. 202 f.).] [Footnote 785: Nevertheless Origen assumes that some souls are invested with flesh, not for their own sins, but in order to be of use to others. See in Joh. XIII. 43 ad fin; II. 24, 25; in Matth. XII. 30.] [Footnote 786: Origen again and again strongly urged the necessity of divine grace.] [Footnote 787: See on this point Bigg, pp. 207 ff., 223 f. Origen is the father of Joachim and all spiritualists.] [Footnote 788: See Knittel, Orig. Lehre von der Menschwerdung (Tübinger Theologische Quartalschrift, 1872). Ramers, Orig. Lehre von der Auferstehung des Fleisches, 1851. Schultz, Gottheit Christi, pp. 51-62.] [Footnote 789: With regard to this point we find the same explanation in Origen as in Irenæus and Tertullian, and also among the Valentinians, in so far as the latter describe the redemption necessary for the Psychici. Only, in this instance also, everything is more copious in his case, because he availed himself of the Holy Scriptures still more than these did, and because he left out no popular conception that seemed to have any moral value. Accordingly he propounded views as to the value of salvation and as to the significance of Christ's death on the cross, with a variety and detail rivalled by no theologian before him. He was, as Bigg (p. 209 ff.) has rightly noticed, the first Church theologian after Paul's time that gave a detailed theology of sacrifices. We may mention here the most important of his views. (1) The death on the cross along with the resurrection is to be considered as a real, recognisable victory over the demons, inasmuch as Christ (Col. II. 14) exposed the weakness of his enemies (a very frequent aspect of the matter). (2) The death on the cross is to be considered as an expiation offered to God. Here Origen argued that all sins require expiation, and, conversely, that all innocent blood has a greater or less importance according to the value of him who gives up his life. (3) In accordance with this the death of Christ has also a vicarious signification (see with regard to both these conceptions the treatise Exhort, ad martyr., as well as c. Cels. VII. 17: I. 31; in Rom. t. III. 7, 8, Lomm. VI., pp. 196-216 etc.). (4) The death of Christ is to be considered as a ransom paid to the devil. This view must have been widely diffused in Origen's time; it readily suggested itself to the popular idea and was further supported by Marcionite theses. It was also accepted by Origen who united it with the notion of a deception practised on the devil, a conception first found among the Basilidians. By his successful temptation the devil acquired a right over men. This right cannot be destroyed, but only bought off. God offers the devil Christ's soul in exchange for the souls of men. This proposal of exchange was, however, insincere, as God knew that the devil could not keep hold of Christ's soul, because a sinless soul could not but cause him torture. The devil agreed to the bargain and was duped. Christ did not fall into the power of death and the devil, but overcame both. This theory, which Origen propounded in somewhat different fashion in different places (see Exhort ad martyr. 12; in Matth. t. XVI. 8, Lomm. IV., p. 27; t. XII. 28, Lomm. III., p. 175; t. XIII. 8, 9, Lomm. III., pp. 224-229; in Rom. II. 13, Lomm. VI., p. 139 sq. etc.), shows in a specially clear way the conservative method of this theologian, who would not positively abandon any idea. No doubt it shows at the same time how uncertain Origen was as to the applicability of popular conceptions when he was dealing with the sphere of the Psychici. We must here remember the ancient idea that we are not bound to sincerity towards our enemies. (5) Christ, the God who became flesh, is to be considered as high priest and mediator between God and man (see de Orat. 10, 15). All the above-mentioned conceptions of Christ's work were, moreover, worked out by Origen in such a way that his humanity and divinity are necessary inferences from them. In this case also he is characterised by the same mode of thought as Irenæus. Finally, let us remember that Origen adhered as strongly as ever to the proof from prophecy, and that he also, in not a few instances, regarded the phrase, "it is written", as a sufficient court of appeal (see, for example, c. Cels. II. 37). Yet, on the other hand, behind all this he has a method of viewing things which considerably weakens the significance of miracles and prophecies. In general it must be said that Origen helped to drag into the Church a great many ancient (heathen) ideas about expiation and redemption, inasmuch as he everywhere found some Bible passage or other with which he associated them. While he rejected polytheism and gave little countenance to people who declared: [Greek: eusebesteroi esmen kai Theon kai ta agalmata sebontes] (Clemens Rom., Hom. XI. 12), he had for all that a principal share in introducing the apparatus of polytheism into the Church (see also the way in which he strengthened angel and hero worship).] [Footnote 790: See above, p. 342. note 1, on the idea that Christ, the Crucified One, is of no importance to the perfect. Only the teacher is of account in this case. To Clement and Origen, however, teacher and mystagogue are as closely connected as they are to most Gnostics. Christianity is [Greek: mathêsis] and [Greek: mystagôgia] and it is the one because it is the other. But in all stages Christianity has ultimately the same object, namely, to effect a reconciliation with God, and deify man. See c. Cels. III. 28: [Greek: Alla gar kai tên katabasan eis anthrôpinên physin kai eis anthrôpinas peristaseis dynamin, kai analabousan psychên kai sôma anthrôpinon, heôrôn ek tou pisteuesthai meta tôn theioterôn symballomenên eis sôtêrian tois pisteuousin orôsin, ap' ekeinou êrxato theia kai anthrôpinê sunuphainesthai physis en ê anthrôpinê tê pros to theioteron koinônia genêtai theia ouk en monô tô Iêsou, alla kai pasi tois meta too pisteuein analambanousi bion, hon Iêsous edidaxena].] [Footnote 791: From this also we can very clearly understand Origen's aversion to the early Christian eschatology. In his view the demons are already overcome by the work of Christ. We need only point out that this conception must have exercised a most important influence on his frame of mind and on politics.] [Footnote 792: Clement still advocated docetic views without reservation. Photius (Biblioth. 109) reproached him with these ([Greek: mê sarkôthênai ton logon alla doxai]), and they may be proved from the Adumbrat, p. 87 (ed Zahn): "fertur in traditionibus--namely, in the Acta of Lucius--quoniam Iohannes ipsum corpus (Christi), quod erat extrinsecus, tangens manum suam in profunda misisse et duritiam carnis nullo modo reluctatam esse, sed locum manui præbuisse discipuli," and likewise from Strom. VI. 9. 71 and III. 7. 59. Clement's repudiation of the Docetists in VII. 17. 108 does not affect the case, and the fact that he here and there plainly called Jesus a man, and spoke of his flesh (Pæd. II. 2. 32: Protrept. X. 110) matters just as little. This teacher simply continued to follow the old undisguised Docetism which only admitted the apparent reality of Christ's body. Clement expressly declared that Jesus knew neither pain, nor sorrow, nor emotions, and only took food in order to refute the Docetists (Strom. VI. 9. 71). As compared with this, Docetism in Origen's case appears throughout in a weakened form; see Bigg, p. 191.] [Footnote 793: See the full exposition in Thomasius, Origenes, p. 203 ff. The principal passages referring to the soul of Jesus are de princip. II. 6: IV. 31; c. Cels. II. 9. 20-25. Socrates (H. E. III. 7) says that the conviction as to Jesus having a human soul was founded on a [Greek: mysticê paradosis] of the Church, and was not first broached by Origen. The special problem of conceiving Christ as a real [Greek: theanthrôpos] in contradistinction to all the men who only possess the presence of the Logos within them in proportion to their merits, was precisely formulated by Origen on many occasions. See [Greek: peri archôn] IV. 29 sq. The full divine nature existed in Christ and yet, as before, the Logos operated wherever he wished (l.c., 30): "non ita sentiendum est, quod omnis divinitatis eius maiestas intra brevissimi corporis claustra conclusa est, ita ut omne verbum dei et sapientia eius ac substantialis veritas ac vita vel a patre divulsa sit vel intra corporis eius coercita et conscripta brevitatem nec usquam præterea putetur operata; sed inter utrumque cauta pietatis debet esse confessio, ut neque aliquid divinitatis in Christo defuisse credatur et nulla penitus a paterna substantia, quæ ubique est, facta putetur esse divisio." On the perfect ethical union of Jesus' soul with the Logos see [Greek: peri archôn] II. 6. 3: "anima Iesu ab initio creaturæ et deinceps inseparabiliter ei atque indissociabiliter inhærens et tota totum recipiens atque in eius lucem splendoremque ipsa cedens facta est cum ipso principaliter unus spiritus;" II. 6. 5: "anima Christi ita elegit diligere iustitiam, ut pro immensitate dilectionis inconvertibiliter ei atque inseparabiliter inhæreret, ita ut propositi firmitas et affectus immensitas et dilectionis inexstinguibilis calor omnem sensum conversionis atque immutationis abscinderet, et quod in arbitrio erat positum, longi usus affectu iam versum sit in naturam." The sinlessness of this soul thus became transformed from a fact into a necessity, and the real God-man arose, in whom divinity and humanity are no longer separated. The latter lies in the former as iron in the fire II. 6. 6. As the metal _capax est frigoris et caloris_ so the soul is capable of deification. "Omne quod agit, quod sentit, quod intelligit, deus est," "nec convertibilis aut mutabilis dici potest" (l.c.). "Dilectionis merito anima Christi cum verbo dei Christus efficitur." (II. 6. 4). [Greek: Tis mallon tês Iêsou psychês ê kan paraplêsiôs kekollêtai tô kyriô; hoper ei houtôs echei ouk eisi duo hê psychê tou Iêsou pros ton pasês ktiseôs prôtotokon Theon logon] (c. Cels. VI. 47). The metaphysical foundation of the union is set forth in [Greek: peri archôn] II. 6. 2: "Substantia animæ inter deum carnemque mediante--non enim possibile erat dei naturam corpori sine mediatore miscere--nascitur deus homo, illa substantia media exsistente, cui utique contra naturam non erat corpus assumere. Sed neque rursus anima illa, utpote substantia rationabilis, contra naturam habuit, capere deum." Even during his historical life the body of Christ was ever more and more glorified, acquired therefore wonderful powers, and appeared differently to men according to their several capacities (that is a Valentinian idea, see Exc. ex Theod. 7); cf. c. Cels. I. 32-38: II. 23, 64: IV. 15 sq.: V. 8, 9, 23. All this is summarised in III. 41: "[Greek: On men nomizomen kai pepeismetha archêthen einai Theon kai huion Theou, outos ho autologos esti kai hê autosophia kai hê autoalêtheia to de thnêton autou sôma kai tên anthrôpinên en autô psychên tê pros ekeinon ou monon koinônia, alla kai henôsei kai anakrasei, ta megista phamen proseilêphenai kai tês ekeinou thetêtos kekoinônêkota eis Theon metabebêkenai]." Origen then continues and appeals to the philosophical doctrine that matter has no qualities and can assume all the qualities which the Creator wishes to give it. Then follows the conclusion: [Greek: ei hugiê ta toiauta, ti thaumaston, tên poiotêta tou thnêtou kata ton Iêsoun sômatos pronoia Theou boulêthentos metabalein eis aitherion kai theian poiotêta]; The man is now the same as the Logos. See in Joh. XXXII. 17, Lomm. II., p. 461 sq.; Hom. in Jerem. XV. 6, Lomm. XV., p. 288: [Greek: ei kai ên anthrôpos, alla nun oudamôs estin anthrôpos].] [Footnote 794: In c. Cels. III. 28, Origen spoke of an intermingling of the divine and human natures, commencing in Christ (see page 368, note 1). See I. 66 fin.; IV. 15, where any [Greek: allattesthai kai metaplattesthai] of the Logos is decidedly rejected; for the Logos does not suffer at all. In Origen's case we may speak of a _communicatio idiomatum_ (see Bigg, p. 190 f.).] [Footnote 795: In opposition to Redepenning.] [Footnote 796: This idea is found in many passages, especial in Book III, c. 22-43, where Origen, in opposition to the fables about deification, sought to prove that Christ is divine because he realised the aim of founding a holy community in humanity. See, besides, the remarkable statement in III. 38 init.] [Footnote 797: A very remarkable distinction between the divine and human element in Christ is found in Clement Pæd. I. 3. 7: [Greek: panta oninêsin ho kurios kai panta ôphelei kai hôs anthrôpos kai hôs Theos, ta men hamartêmata hôs Theos aphieis, eis de to mê examartanein paidagôgôn hôs anthrôpos].] [Footnote 798: "Fides in nobis; mensura fidei causa accipiendarum gratiarum" is the fundamental idea of Clement and Origen (as of Justin); "voluntas humana præcedit". In Ezech. hom. I. c. II: "In tua potestate positum est, ut sis palea vel frumentum". But all growth in faith must depend on divine help. See Orig. in Matth. series 69, Lomm. IV., p. 372: "Fidem habenti, quæ est ex nobis, dabitur gratia fidei quæ est per spiritum fidei, et abundabit; et quidquid habuerit quis ex naturali creatione, cum exercuerit illud, accipit id ipsum et ex gratia dei, ut abundet et firmior sit in eo ipso quod habet"; in Rom. IV. 5, Lomm. VI., p. 258 sq.; in Rom. IX. 3, Lomm VII., p. 300 sq. The fundamental idea remains: [Greek: ho Theos hêmas ex hêmôn autôn bouletai sôzesthai.]] [Footnote 799: This is frequent in Clement; see Orig. c. Cels. VII. 46.] [Footnote 800: See Clem, Strom. V. I. 7: [Greek: chariti sôzometha, ouk aneu mentoi tôn kalôn ergôn.]. VII. 7. 48: V. 12. 82, 13. 83: [Greek: eite to en hêmin autexousiou eis gnôsin aphikomenon tagathou skirta te kai pêda huper ta eskammena, plên ou charitos aneu tês exairetou pteroutai te kai anistatai kai anô tôn huperkeimenôn airetai hê psychê]; The amalgamation of freedom and grace. Quis cliv. salv. 21. Orig. [Greek: peri archôn.] III. 2. 2: In bonis rebus humanum propositum solum per se ipsum imperfectum est ad consummationem boni, adiutorio namque divino ad perfecta quæque peracitur. III. 2. 5, I. 18; Selecta in Ps. 4, Lomm. XI., p. 450: [Greek: to tou logikou agathon mikton estin ek te tês proaireseôs autou kai tês sumpneousês theias dunameôs tô ta allista proelomenô]. The support of grace is invariably conceived as enlightenment; but this enlightenment enables it to act on the whole life. For a more detailed account see Landerer in the Jahrbucher fur deutsche Theologie, Vol. II, Part 3, p. 500 ff., and Worter, _Die christliche Lehre von Gnade und Freiheit bis auf Augustin_, 1860.] [Footnote 801: This goal was much more clearly described by Clement than by Origen; but it was the latter who, in his commentary on the Song of Solomon, gave currency to the image of the soul as the bride of the Logos. Bigg (p. 188 f.): "Origen, the first pioneer in so many fields of Christian thought, the father in one of his many aspects of the English Latitudinarians, became also the spiritual ancestor of Bernard, the Victorines, and the author of the 'De imitatione,' of Tauler and Molinos and Madame de Guyon."] [Footnote 802: See Thomasius, Dogmengeschichte I., p. 467.] [Footnote 803: See e.g., Clem. Quis dives salv. 37 and especially Pædag. I. 6. 25-32; Orig. de orat. 22 sq.--the interpretation of the Lord's Prayer. This exegesis begins with the words: "It would be worth while to examine more carefully whether the so-called Old Testament anywhere contains a prayer in which God is called Father by anyone; for till now we have found none in spite of all our seeking ... Constant and unchangeable sonship is first given in the new covenant."] [Footnote 804: See above, p. 339 f.] [Footnote 805: See [Greek: peri archôn] II. 11.] [Footnote 806: See [Greek: peri archôn] II. 10. 1-3. Origen wrote a treatise on the resurrection, which, however, has not come down to us, because it was very soon accounted heretical. We see from c. Cels V. 14-24 the difficulties he felt about the Church doctrine of the resurrection of the flesh.] [Footnote 807: See Eusebius, H. E. VI. 37.] [Footnote 808: Orig., Hom. II. in Reg. I., Lomm. XI., p. 317 sq.] [Footnote 809: C. Cels. V. 15: VI. 26; in Lc. Hom. XIV., Lomm. V., p. 136: "Ego puto, quod et post resurrectionem ex mortuis indigeamus sacramento eluente nos atque purgante". Clem., Strom. VII. 6. 34: [Greek: phamen d' êmeis agiazein to pur, ou ta krea, alla tas amartôlous psychas, pur ou to pamphagon kai banauson, alla to phronimon legontes] (cf. Heraclitus and the Stoa), [Greek: to duknoumenon dia psychêa tês dierchomenês to pur]. For Origen cf. Bigg, p. 229 ff. There is another and intermediate stage between the punishments in hell and _regnum dei_.] [Footnote 810: See [Greek: peri archôn] II. 10. 4-7; c. Cels. l.c.] [Footnote 811: See [Greek: peri archôn] I. 6. 1-4: III. 6. 1-8; c. Cels. VI. 26.] [Footnote 812: On the seven heavens in Clem. see Strom. V. II. 77 and other passages. Origen does not mention them, so far as I know.] [Footnote 813: c. Cels. l.c.] [Footnote 814: We would be more justified in trying this with Clement.] [Footnote 815: See Bornemann, In investiganda monachatus origine quibus de causis ratio habenda sit Origenis. Gottingæ 1885.] 
25974	----	GOD'S PLAN WITH MEN by T. T. MARTIN, Evangelist "For every sentence, clause and word, That's not inlaid with thee, my Lord, Forgive me, God! and blot each line Out of my book that is not thine. But if, 'mongst all, thou find'st here one Worthy thy benediction, That one of all the rest shall be The glory of my work and me." New York Chicago Toronto Fleming H. Revell Company London and Edinburgh Copyright, 1912, by Fleming H. Revell Company New York: 158 Fifth Avenue Chicago: 17 N. Wabash Ave. Toronto: 25 Richmond St., W. London: 21 Paternoster Square Edinburgh: 100 Princes Street PREFACE Not new truths, but old truths properly emphasized, is one of the great needs of our times and of all times. The object of this book is not to start something new, but to specially emphasize some old truths and their relations to each other. The aim of the book is to help two classes: those who are seeking to be saved, and those who are already saved; the one, by showing simply and plainly God's way of salvation; the other, by showing simply God's way of dealing with men after they are saved. The author hopes, moreover, that the book may be of some special help to honest sceptics. For this purpose, the Introduction is addressed to them; and the hope is cherished that Chapter I will aid in disarming prejudice against God and the Bible; for while the Bible's teaching of degrees of punishment in Hell does not detract from the horrors of future punishment, but rather adds thereto, it effectually does away with the charge of the injustice of future punishment. The enquirer and young convert may omit the parts marked "For Further Study" at the close of each chapter and not lose connection. These are added for Bible students who wish to go further into the subject treated. And now, the author lays the book at the Master's feet and prays His blessings upon it, that it may be a blessing to those who read it. T. T. Martin. Blue Mountain, Miss. CONTENTS I. Sin and Its Punishment--God's Justice--Degrees In Hell 17 II. Sins Not Excused, nor the Penalty Ever Remitted Without Redemption 32 III. Jesus the Christ as Sin-bearer--God's Justice and Love 38 IV. The New Relation--The New Motive 60 V. The Sins of God's Children--Forgiveness--Chastisements 86 VI. Rewards--Degrees in Heaven 101 VII. How to be Saved--Repentance and Faith 125 VIII. The Meaning of "Believe On" or "Believe In" Christ 135 IX. Eternal Life the Present Possession of the Believer 158 X. Development of Character in the Redeemed 175 INTRODUCTION "Come now and let us _reason together_, saith the Lord."--Isaiah. "If any man willeth to do his will, _he shall know_ of the teaching, whether it is of God, or whether I speak from my self."--Jesus. "And ye shall seek me and find me _when ye shall search for me with all your heart_."--Jeremiah. "Then _shall we know_ if we follow on to know the Lord."--Hosea. This work is not written for sceptics; yet while preparing to write for the benefit of others than sceptics, the author's heart has gone out toward that large class of his fellow-men who are sceptical; who, from different causes, have been led to doubt or deny the Bible's being a revelation from God; and he has yearned to say something that would at least arouse the attention of this class sufficiently to cause them to give an earnest investigation, or re-investigation, to the question. The _bare possibilities_ that there is a Hell and a Heaven, that the soul can never cease to exist, and that Jesus is the real Saviour, are enough to cause every doubting one to give the most earnest consideration to any evidence bearing on these questions, and to undertake the most careful investigation of anything that promises to lead to certainty. It will be admitted by every honest disbeliever that no writer has ever made it _certain_ that there is no future existence; that there is no Heaven; that there is no Hell; that Jesus was not the Saviour. The most that such writers have been able to produce is doubts. If, now, there is _the possibility_ of reaching _certainty_ on the other side, surely the reader should be willing and anxious to undertake a calm, searching examination, or re-examination, of the question. If there is no Heaven or Hell, no future existence, no one will ever find it out, before or after death; and there would be but little, if anything, gained if one could find it out. But if there is a Heaven and a Hell, and Jesus is the Saviour, then there is everything to be gained by finding it out and everything to be lost by neglecting to find it out. So important are the issues at stake that you, reader, should be willing to take years, if need be, to make a thorough investigation of the matter; you should be willing to read and study many books, and there are many that would help you; but I wish to urge you to read _two books only_, before reading this book. Surely your eternal destiny and the destinies of those over whom you have an influence (for "none of us liveth to himself") are enough to cause you to give earnest attention to the reading of three small books. The bare possibility that the reading of the three books may lead to your making sure of Heaven as your eternal home, is enough to prompt you to read them and to read them most carefully and prayerfully. The first is "The Wonders of Prophecy," by John Urquhart. The second is "The Philosophy of the Plan of Salvation," by J. B. Walker (American Edition). Having read these two books prayerfully and carefully, then give this book a careful reading. But let the reader consider God's plan for investigating. It is often said by a certain class of sceptics that the Bible is against honest investigation, that it shuts off the use of one's reason. Let the word of God speak for itself, "Come now and let us _reason_ together, saith the Lord."--Is. 1:18. The trouble with many sceptics is that they are not willing to "reason _together_," to reason to get with God, but that they reason _against_ God and to _get away from God_. Jesus said, "Take heed _how_ ye hear." Watch your heart's attitude when you hear. The attitude of being against God will warp your reasoning when you hear. God's promise is plain to the earnest, honest seeker after God. "And ye shall seek me and find me when ye shall search for me _with all your heart_."--Jer. 29:13. One who is half-hearted, indifferent, prejudiced against God or against truth, has no right to expect to find God or to find truth. But the promise is positive that the one who seeks with all the heart shall find. Let the reader put God to the test. How can an earnest, honest man refuse to make an earnest, honest investigation? It was against those who would not make such an investigation that Jesus spoke, Matt. 12:42, "The queen of the south shall rise up in the judgement with this generation and shall condemn it: for she came from the ends of the earth to hear the wisdom of Solomon; and behold a greater than Solomon is here." The heathen woman who went to so much trouble and expense, and took so much time to make a thorough, honest investigation for the truth, will condemn those who do not make an earnest persevering investigation; "And behold a greater than Solomon is here," with His promise, "If any man willeth to do his will _he shall know_." Reader, will you carelessly refuse to take the time and to go to the trouble and expense of getting and reading earnestly _two books_ that _may_ lead you to the truth? Oh, reader, outstrip the heathen queen in search of light. Give your life-time, if need be, to an earnest investigation of this matter. Picture two men, one giving his life-time to earnest, honest, searching for the truth concerning sin and salvation through Christ; the other, from indifference, or pride, or prejudice, or love of the world, or secret sin, never making an earnest, honest investigation; the one dying and going to Heaven; the other dying and going to Hell. Which shall it be in your case, reader? There is absolutely no uncertainty as to the result _if only_ you will be honest, and earnest and persevering in your search for the truth. Listen to Jesus: John 7:17, "If any man _willeth_ to do his will, he _shall know_ of the teaching, whether it is of God, or whether I speak from myself." Whether you, reader, are ignorant or learned cuts absolutely no figure in this case. Jesus throws the assurance open to _any man_. The one condition is if he "_willeth to do his will_." No man wills to do God's will who will not go to the extreme of earnest, honest, prayerful investigation. If you do, then the veracity, the very character, of Jesus is at stake. Consider, then, reader, the awful responsibility that rests upon you, if you do not give attention to a thorough, earnest, honest, prayerful investigation for the truth. Another promise of equal certainty comes from the Old Testament: Hosea 6:3, "Then shall we know if we follow on to know the Lord." Many make a slight search and cease. The promise is not to them, but to those who persevere. If we use the light as we receive it, and follow it up, _we shall know_. Again certainty is promised. Does not God, because He is God, deserve such earnest consideration from you, reader? Have you any right to expect anything from Him if you approach Him in a half-hearted, indifferent way? The following cases in point may encourage the reader: Two learned men decided to prove that the Bible was not from God, and that Jesus Christ was not the Saviour; but they were in earnest and they were honest. They had vast libraries at their service. They gave months to investigation. They were both convinced and accepted the Saviour and wrote their books in defence of the Bible, instead of against it. Second, one of the greatest scholars of Europe, probably the greatest, stated in a public lecture in America, that, of the thirty leading sceptics of the nineteenth century, men who had written brilliant books in their young manhood against the Bible, he knew twenty-eight in their old age, and that every one of the twenty-eight, after mature investigation, had accepted the Lord Jesus as Saviour. Again, in one of the prominent smaller cities of America, a club of sceptics, leading business and professional men, had held weekly meetings for many years. They challenged any one to meet one of their widely known lecturers in a public debate on Christianity and Infidelity. A preacher accepted the challenge. During the debate some of the sceptics became Christians. The president of the debate, a sceptic, is now an earnest follower of the Lord Jesus, having been convinced and having accepted Him as Saviour. The debate was held years ago. So convincing, so overwhelming, was the evidence produced by the defender of Christianity, that the club of sceptics has never held a meeting since the debate. Similar facts could be produced indefinitely, but these three are sufficient to show the most discouraged, the most hopeless sceptical reader, that there is at least a possibility of his yet finding the truth. Is not a bare possibility, where there are so tremendously important eternal issues at stake, sufficient to cause him to at once begin a thorough, prayerful, honest investigation? A reflection before closing the Introduction: one hundred years from now, and you, reader, will not be among the living. Where will you be? God has given you a will and the power of choice. Will you will, will you choose, to make an honest, persistent investigation? Tremendous consequences turn on your decision,--your own future destiny, the destinies of others over whom you have an influence. Do not dally with delay. Begin now an honest, earnest, painstaking, prayerful investigation. Get and read the two books suggested, and then finish reading this book. If this course does not settle your difficulties, read on, study on, pray on, and God's promise is sure, that you shall find, that you "shall know"! _FOR FURTHER STUDY_: A brief list is here given of books that will be helpful to sceptical readers: "Why Is Christianity True?" by E. Y. Mullins. (One of the most learned Presbyterian theological professors in America, asked to give the names of six of the best books to convince sceptics, replied, "I shall not do it; I shall give one,--'Why Is Christianity True?' by President Mullins of the Southern Baptist Theological Seminary; that is sufficient"); "The Fact of Christ," by Simpson; "The Meaning and Message of the Cross," by H. C. Mabie; "The Resurrection of Our Lord," by W. Milligan; "Many Infallible Proofs," by A. T. Pierson; "The Cause and Cure of Infidelity," by Nelson; "The Word and Works of God," by Bailey; "The Character of Jesus," by Bushnell; "Hours with a Sceptic," by Faunce; "The Miracles of Unbelief," by Ballard; "Creation," by Arnold Guyot; "The Collapse of Evolution," by Townsend; "The Problem of the Old Testament," by James Orr; "Did Jesus Rise?" by J. H. Brookes; "Reasons for Faith in Christianity," by Leavitt; "The Gospel of John;" "The Young Professor," by E. B. Hatcher; "The Resurrection of Jesus," by James Orr. I SIN AND ITS PUNISHMENT--GOD'S JUSTICE--DEGREES IN HELL "All have _sinned_."--Rom. 3:23. "Every transgression and disobedience received a _just_ recompense of reward."--Heb. 2:2. "A _just_ God."--Is. 45:21. "It shall be _more tolerable_ for the land of Sodom in the day of judgement, than for thee."--Matt. 11:24. Reader, what you and I need to know concerning God's plan with the sinner, the lost, is not what some people think, nor what some teach, nor what some desire; but what God teaches. God is _just_. Fasten that in your mind; never lose sight of it. Over and over again is this fact impressed in the Scriptures. Yet lurking in the minds of multitudes is a vague suspicion or dread that God will be unjust in sending some to Hell, and that He will be unjust in the way He will punish. Many who are thus disturbed lose sight of the fact that God is just; that whatever God does in regard to the lost, one thing is certain,--_He will do no injustice_. With my loved ones, with your loved ones, with the most obscure, worthless creature, with the most refined, delicate nature, with the most cruel, debased creature that ever lived, God will do no wrong. Many have turned away to infidelity, not on account of the Bible's complete teaching as to future punishment, but because they have taken some one passage of Scripture and warped it or gotten from it a distorted idea of the Bible's teachings as to Hell; or they have taken some preacher's views as to the Bible's teachings on the subject. For example, here is a boy fifteen years of age, whose mother died when he was an infant, whose father is a drunkard and gambler and infidel, who has given the boy but little moral training; and here is a man seventy years of age who had a noble father and mother, who gave their boy every advantage, the best of training, under the best of influences; yet he when a boy turned away from all these influences and spent his life in sin and debauchery, and in leading others into sin. These two, the unfortunate boy and the old hardened sinner, die. With many the idea is that God consigns them to a common punishment in Hell. But, reader, remember that _God is just_; and if that is justice, what would injustice be? They were different in light and in opportunity and in sins, and yet punished alike? _The Bible does not teach it._ But let us go back and consider this question of sin. "All have sinned." That includes you, reader. "To him that knoweth to do good and doeth it not, to him it is sin."--James 4:17. All have done this, have failed to live up to the light they have had; hence, "All have sinned." Two questions arise: first, ought sin to be punished? Second, ought all sin to be punished, or only the coarser, grosser, more offensive sins? As to the first, ought sin to be punished? There is a strong drift toward the teaching that sin ought to be punished only for the purpose of reforming the sinner. Intelligent men endorse this teaching without realizing that it is spiritual anarchy and absolutely horrible and detestable. A woman and four little children are murdered in cold blood by three robbers for the purpose of robbing the home. When the three are arrested, the first is found to be thoroughly penitent, thoroughly reformed, broken-hearted, over his horrible crime. If sin should be punished only to reform the sinner, this man should not be punished at all, though he murdered five people in cold blood; for he is already reformed. The second is such a hardened criminal that he never can be reformed, and the more he is punished the more hardened he will become. Then if sin is punished only to reform the sinner, he should not be punished at all, though guilty of the murder of five people in cold blood. The third is tender-hearted and easily influenced, and by sending him to prison for thirty days, he will be thoroughly reformed, though guilty of five cold-blooded murders. On this principle of punishing sin only to reform the sinner, all a sinner would have to do to make sure of Heaven would be to become such a hardened sinner that he could never be reformed, and then he would go to Heaven without any punishment at all. People need to call a halt and realize that sin ought to be punished because it is right to punish it, because it is just. But this means the punishment of all sins, the sins of the refined as surely as the sins of the debased, the smaller sins as surely as the greater sins. Hence the teaching of God's word, Rom. 1:18, "The wrath of God[1] is revealed from heaven against all ungodliness and unrighteousness of men," But we need to keep in mind that it is discriminating wrath, and God's word makes this plain, Heb. 2:2, "Every transgression and disobedience received a _just recompense of reward_." "A just God."--Is. 45:21. [1] Many sneer at a "God of wrath" and say they believe in a "God of all love." God is love, but He is just as surely a God of wrath; and were He not a God of wrath, He would not be God, but a fiend. He who loves purity and chastity and has no wrath against impurity and unchastity, but loves them, too, is a moral leper. He who loves the defence of the poor and the helpless, but has no wrath against the cold-blooded murderer, the one crushing the defenceless, but loves him, too, is a fiend. Character, from God to Devil, can only be told by what one loves and what one hates. Notice how clearly the Saviour teaches this same great truth, Matt. 11:20-24, "Then began he to upbraid the cities wherein most of his mighty works were done, because they repented not. Woe unto thee, Chorazin! Woe unto thee, Bethsaida! for if the mighty works had been done in Tyre and Sidon which were done in you, they would have repented long ago in sackcloth and ashes. But I say unto you, _It shall be more tolerable_ for Tyre and Sidon in the day of judgement than for you. And thou, Capernaum, which art exalted to heaven, shalt be brought down to hell: for if the mighty works which have been done in thee had been done in Sodom, it would have remained until this day. But I say unto you that _it shall be more tolerable_ for the land of Sodom in the day of judgement, than for thee." Notice, "more tolerable," difference in punishment. The same teaching Jesus gives in Mark 12:40. "These shall receive _greater condemnation_" Jesus revealed to Pilate God's judgment of a difference in sin, John 19:11, "He that delivered me unto thee hath the _greater sin_." And Paul teaches the same, Gal. 6:7, "Whatsoever a man soweth, that shall he also reap," the reaping according to the sowing. Let the reader notice the clear teaching: the punishment of sin will be graded, first, according to light and opportunity. A writer, a great scientist, held that heredity and environment largely determine one's destiny. That is what Jesus taught. The people of Sodom were more wicked than those of Capernaum; but heredity and environment were against them. The people of Capernaum had not sinned so terribly as the people of Sodom, but they had more light and opportunity; they had better heredity, better environment; Jesus says that therefore the people of Capernaum shall be punished more severely than the people of Sodom. And that is right; that is just. Those to whom Jesus spoke were born under better conditions than those of Sodom; they grew up under more favorable surroundings; hence, they were more responsible; hence, they are to receive greater punishment at the judgment. Apply to your own case, reader: for every added ray of light, for every added opportunity, there will be that much added punishment for your sins. And that is just; that is right. The opportunities that wealth brings, the light that education and culture bring, will but add to the punishment at the judgment. The most highly educated, the most refined, the most wealthy, those who have lived under the most favorable influences, will suffer most at the judgment. But punishment will be further graded by the number of the sins,--"_Every_ transgression received a just recompense." Hence, the more one sins, the greater the punishment. If one knew that he was going to Hell, corrupt human nature would say, "Sin and enjoy while you live," but reason and Scripture would say, "Stop! add no more to the degree of Hell." Punishment for sin will be further graded by the character of the sin. "He that betrayed me to thee hath the greater sin." While a small sin is just as surely sin as a great sin, yet God recognizes degrees in sin, and as a consequence, there are degrees in the punishment of sin. Following from degrees in the punishment of sin comes inevitably the fact that no wrong will be done any one at the judgment; that no one will be treated wrong in Hell. _He who fears only injustice and wrong, has nothing to fear from the judgment or in Hell._ Two reflections for the reader:--If you have heretofore rebelled against the idea of future punishment, what can you say when now you see that God will make all just allowance for surroundings and conditions, and will take into consideration the number and kinds of sins? God has a right to have laws; His laws are right; a law without a penalty amounts to no law; the penalty, God assures us, will be absolutely just. _What can you say when you stand before such a judge and receive such a sentence?_ The other reflection for the reader: Let not this teaching of the Bible lead you into thinking that Hell, then, will not be so terrible after all, and that you need not fear it. Instead of letting it allay all dread of the future, it is enough to make the blood run cold through your veins; for those who will have the most terrible suffering will be the most enlightened, the most cultured. Another thought: not some far distant, cold, harsh, unsympathetic God will be the judge at the Judgment Day, but the Lord Jesus, "touched with the feeling of our infirmities," will be the one who will judge you and condemn you and give you your just degree of punishment in Hell. Hear Him: John 5:22, "Neither doth the Father judge any man, but he hath given all judgement to the Son." Peter reveals the same fact, Acts 10:42, "He commanded us to preach unto the people, and to testify that this is he who hath been ordained of God to be the judge of living and dead." Remember, that he whom the world praises as so good, so just, so discriminating, so loving, so tender, will be the judge at the Great Day, who will pronounce each sentence. Oh, reader, the very fact that the Lord Jesus will be the judge is absolute proof that no one will be treated wrong, that no one will be punished unjustly in Hell; and the bare possibility that He may pronounce your eternal doom is enough to cause you to turn to-day. "Turn ye, turn ye, for why will ye die?" _FOR FURTHER STUDY_: The fear of Abraham is the fear of the human race, Gen. 18:25, "Shall not the judge of all the earth do right?" As soon as God revealed to Abraham that he was going to deal with Sodom and Gomorrah because of their sin, Abraham at once suspects that God may do wrong in punishing sin. It has been so down the ages, that we suspect that God will do wrong in punishing sin. Great denominations have been formed to keep God from doing wrong in punishing sin. Men have proven untrue to their denominations and turned traitors to God's word, because they have, Abraham-like, suspected God of wrongdoing in the punishment of sin. It is not that the proof is not ample that the Bible is God's word, _but the hatred of the human heart for the Bible teaching about Hell_, that has brought in so much of modern religious vagaries and New Theology and Higher Criticism. As Abraham presses his plea for God to do right, God by degrees reveals Himself as a God who will do right. It must have been a marvellous revelation to Abraham. And so God's plan for the punishment of sin will be to the honest seeker for truth when he perceives the real teaching of God's word. As God's doing right with Sodom and Gomorrah went far beyond where Abraham's sense of right halted; so God's doing right with sinners in Hell will go far beyond what we would ask. But there are other objectors to Hell. They began by pressing the teaching of God's mercy without any reference to His justice; and in order to get rid of the teaching as to Hell, which they thought unjust, they rejected the Scriptures as God's word; and finally ended in rejecting the teaching that "Christ died for our sins" (1 Cor. 15:3); that He "his own self bare our sins in his own body upon the tree" (1 Peter 2:24). As a result of their fighting against God's punishing sin, they have become so blinded as to right principle, and so morally corrupt, as to be supported in pulpits, college professorships and seminary professorships by the hard-earned money of earnest believers in God's word, while they are undermining the faith of the children of their supporters. The Heaven that such men teach is the Hell of the Bible. Rejecting complete redemption through Christ dying for our sins as our substitute, they teach salvation by character, or that one's destiny beyond the grave will be according to the way he has lived here. That is their Heaven, but that is the Bible's Hell, exactly, absolutely. Infidelity, Judaism, Christian Science, Universalism, Unitarianism, Higher Criticism, New Theology and all who reject Christ dying for our sins, as our substitute, as our complete Redeemer, because of their hatred of God's punishing sinners in Hell, have made their Heaven to be the result of their life here on earth; and as a consequence, have made their Heaven the Bible's Hell; for Hell will be exactly the result of the life here on earth; and, as a result, they have in theory, and, alas! will have in fact, the Bible's Hell which they label Heaven, without any real Heaven at all. As an example, consider Mr. R. G. Ingersoll's words, "I believe in the gospel of justice, that we must reap what we sow (Bible's Hell without any Heaven). I do not believe in forgiveness (Bible's Hell without any Heaven). If I rob Smith and God forgives me, how does that help Smith? If I cover some poor girl with the leprosy of some imputed crime and she withers away like a blighted flower and afterward I get forgiveness, how does that help her? If there is another world, we have got to settle (admitting that we do not settle in this life), and for every crime you commit here (hence, the more the crimes, the more you must suffer, exactly the Bible's teaching), you must answer to yourself and to the one you injure. And if you have ever clothed another as with a garment of pain, you will never be quite as happy as though you had not done that thing." "No forgiveness; eternal, inexorable, everlasting justice, that is what I believe in." Any Christian would be willing to take Mr. Ingersoll's place, or the place of any one else, in Hell, if God varies one pang from what Mr. Ingersoll himself calls for. But it is the Bible's Hell, pure and simple, without any Heaven. But the objector who rejects the teaching of Hell, and also Christ dying for our sins as our substitute, may say that he does not agree with Mr. Ingersoll, as to no forgiveness; that he believes in forgiveness. To reject Christ's dying for our sins as our substitute, as our Redeemer from all iniquity, and yet, in order to avoid believing in Hell, to profess to believe in the forgiveness of sins, makes one far worse than Mr. Ingersoll, a spiritual anarchist. Mr. Ingersoll at least believed in law, but to believe in forgiveness, without substitution, without redemption through Christ, means to down with law and to become an anarchist in principle. As to the justice of substitution, the reader is referred to Chapter III. Concerning the objection to the Bible's teaching of eternal punishment in Hell, a mistranslation has misled many, and before the correct translation, as given by the Revised Version, all objections fall to the ground. The old version of Rev. 22:11 reads, "He that is unjust let him be unjust still"; but the Revised Version gives what the Greek says, "He that is unrighteous let him _do unrighteousness still_!" And that inevitably means eternal punishment. It is God's last sentence on the sinner. The objector may say that it is horrible to let men sin beyond the grave, in Hell. Not one particle more horrible is it than to let them sin in this life and continue in sin in this life. A reflection for the unsaved reader: what will your moral character be one thousand years after you die, with no holy Spirit, no Bible, no Christians, no churches, to restrain you? Again, this passage, Rev. 22:11 (R. V.), can have no meaning if the wicked are to be blotted out, cease to exist. Another objection that is pressed, is that the Bible teaches a Hell of literal fire, and is therefore wrong. The denominations that reject the Bible's teachings as to Hell, without exception, try to force on the Bible language the meaning of literal fire. Yet they do not try to force on the language of the Bible concerning Hell, that it means literal worm when it says "to be cast into Hell where their worm dieth not and the fire is not quenched." They do not try to force the literal meaning on language when Jesus said, "I am the door"; "I am the vine"; or the Scriptures state, "That rock was Christ." One thing is true, that, the language being figurative, the reality must be terrible. Men sneer at the thought of becoming Christians from fear of Hell. Such men are not honest with God, and are simply trying to browbeat God on the subject of Hell. Proof: the same men will flee to safety from fear of smallpox, from fear of yellow fever, etc. Shall men be looked upon as sensible when they flee to safety for their bodies, and be scorned for fleeing to safety for their souls? People are ever asking, "Will the heathen be lost without the gospel?" Let God's word answer, Rom. 2:12, 14, "As many as have sinned without the law shall also perish without the law"; "For when Gentiles that have not the law do by nature the things of the law, these not having the law are the law unto themselves, in that they show the work of the law written in their hearts, their conscience bearing witness therewith, and their thoughts one with another accusing or else excusing themselves." But the objector says, "Will God condemn a man when he has no light?" There never lived such a man. Listen to God: John 1:19, "That was the true light that lighteth every man coming into the world." Again, Rom. 1:20, "The invisible things of him since the creation of the world are clearly seen, being perceived through the things that are made, even his everlasting power and divinity; so that they are without excuse." But the objection is raised that they have never heard of Christ, and that it is wrong for people to be lost, condemned, who never heard of Christ. They are not condemned for not believing in Christ when they have never heard of Him; they are condemned for their sins, for doing what, from their light, they knew was wrong. It is not the lack of the remedy that kills, but the disease. They have not as much light as others, and their punishment will be accordingly. The man who dies in his sins in a Christian land will be punished far, far more than the one who dies a heathen. Their punishments will be almost as far apart as the east is from the west. The Scripture, "There is no difference," Rom. 3:22, has often been pressed to mean that all sinners are alike before God, or will suffer alike in Hell. By close attention to the passage the reader will see that the expression "there is no difference" has reference to what goes before, for it is connected by the word "for," pointing back to what had just been said, that there is a "righteousness of God through faith in Jesus Christ unto all that have faith: _for_ there is no difference," that all that have faith are equally certain of salvation, "for there is no difference." To join the expression, "there is no difference," with what follows makes it clearly contradict our Saviour, who said plainly that there is a difference,--"He that delivered me unto thee hath the greater sin,"--there is a difference in sin, says the Saviour. The teaching of James 2:10, "For whosoever shall keep the whole law and yet offend in one point is guilty of all," must not be made to contradict the plain teaching of the Saviour that there is a difference in sinners, and different degrees in their punishment. The meaning is that the law is a unit, and that he that offends in one point has broken the law as a whole. A chain of ten links is as surely broken when one link is broken as when all ten links are broken. In accord with this are the words of the great American scholar, theologian, teacher, preacher, Jno. A. Broadus: "Especially notice Luke 12:47 f. (R. V.), 'And that servant which knew his lord's will, and made not ready, nor did according to his will, shall be beaten with many stripes; but he that knew not, and did things worthy of stripes, shall be beaten with few stripes.' This teaching has been in many cases grievously overlooked. Taking images literally, men have found that the 'Gehenna of fire' (Matt. 5:22) will be the same place and the same degree of punishment for all. But the above passage and many others show that there will be differences. The degrees of punishment must be as remote as the east is from the west. All inherited proclivities, 'taints of blood,' all differences of environment, every privilege and every disadvantage, will be taken into account. It is the Divine Judge that will apportion punishment, with perfect knowledge and perfect justice and perfect goodness. This great fact, that there will be _degrees_ in future punishment--as well as future rewards--ought to be more prominent in religious instruction. It gives some relief in contemplating the awful fate of those who perish. It might save many from going away into Universalism; and others from dreaming of a 'second probation' in eternity (comp. on 12:32); and yet others from unjustly assailing and rejecting, to their own ruin, the gospel of salvation." On the other hand, many a sermon on Hell (and there are too few on the subject), it could possibly be said the average sermon on the subject, is a slander on a just and holy God. The sermon is drawn largely from Dante's Inferno or the distorted imagination of the preacher, with no reference to the fact that God will punish sinners differently according to their light and their sins, but only justly. The trouble is not with the Bible teaching as to Hell, but with modern inadequate conceptions of the evil and guilt of sin, and with many, the almost lost sense of justice, and of "stern moral indignation against wrong." (Broadus.) II SINS NOT EXCUSED, NOR THE PENALTY EVER REMITTED WITHOUT REDEMPTION "Till heaven and earth pass away, one jot or one tittle shall in no wise pass away from the law."--Jesus. "Apart from shedding of blood there is no remission."--Heb. 9:22. "For the life of the flesh is in the blood; and I have given it to you upon the altar to make atonement for your souls; for it is the blood that maketh atonement."--Lev. 17:11. "It is not possible that the blood of bulls and goats should take away sins."--Heb. 10:4. "Every transgression and disobedience received a just recompense of reward."--Heb. 2:2. When one faces the question of his sins, and realizes that they deserve just punishment, one of the first impulses is to pray and beg of God to be let off, to be forgiven; and, alas! much of the religious instruction to the sinner is to the same effect. Jesus to Nicodemus gave no such instruction (John 3:14-16); Philip to the Eunuch gave no such instruction (Acts 8:29-39); Paul and Silas to the jailer gave no such instruction (Acts 16:30, 31); Peter to the household of Cornelius gave no such instruction (Acts 10:42, 43); the gospel of John, the one book specially given to lead a sinner to be saved (John 20:30, 31), gives no such instruction. But the objection is at once brought up that in the Lord's Prayer we are taught to pray, "Forgive us our sins." That prayer begins "Our Father," and God is not the Father of sinners ("Ye are all the children of God by faith in Christ Jesus."--Gal. 3:26); and the prayer was given by the Saviour to disciples (Luke 11:1, 2), and not to sinners. But the objection is further raised that the Bible says, "If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins." That is from the first epistle of John, and was not written to sinners, but to believers. John says (1 John 5:13), "These things have I written unto you, that ye may know that ye have eternal life, even _unto you that believe on the name of the Son of God_." (R. V.) God can and does forgive the believer on confession, because the believer is a child of God. With the sinner it is a question of law, of justice, of right. Hence, the Lord Jesus said, "Till heaven and earth pass away, one jot or tittle shall in no wise pass away from the law" (Matt. 5:18). "Every transgression and disobedience received _a just recompense of reward_" (Heb. 2:2); but there is no "_just recompense of reward_" at all, if God lets the sinner off from the just penalty of his sins because he prays and begs and cries to be let off, or because priests or preachers pray and beg for him to be let off. "It is impossible that the blood of bulls and goats should take away sin" (Heb. 10:4), because there is no "just recompense of reward" in such cases. Much less can the sins be taken away when there is no recompense of reward at all in the case, but simply the praying and begging of the sinner to be forgiven, to be let off, and the praying and begging of some priest or preacher that the sinner be forgiven, let off. God has given a plain warning, "Apart from shedding of blood there is no remission."--Heb. 9:22. Among what are called evangelical denominations it would be looked upon as worse than folly for a Jew, a Unitarian or a Universalist, who had asked God to forgive his sins, or had confessed the sins, to claim that therefore he was forgiven and was sure to go to Heaven. But it is just as fatal a delusion among others as among Jews, Unitarians and Universalists. Every transgression must have "_a just recompense of reward_," however sorry the sinner may be, however much he may pray and beg to be forgiven, let off; however much the priest or preacher or friends may pray for him to be forgiven, to be let off. A man who has violated the state law falls on his knees before the judge, confesses his sin and begs the judge to forgive him, to let him off; and he calls men from the audience to come and help him beg. The judge replies, "If I should yield to these petitions I would be a perjurer; I would trample on law. Every transgression must receive a just recompense of reward." Would that all could realize that every prayer from sinner, priest, or preacher, for a sinner to be forgiven, let off, is a prayer to God to become a perjurer. If sinners could realize that, after all their kneeling every night and confessing their sins, and praying to be forgiven, to be let off, every sin ever committed is still there, and that "Apart from shedding of blood there is no remission," they would then realize their real need of a Saviour, a Redeemer. One question for the reader: If God forgives, lets a sinner off, simply because he is sorry and cries and prays and begs to be let off, or because the priest or preacher cries, prays and begs for him to be forgiven, to be let off, _why did Jesus die_? _FOR FURTHER STUDY_: The word translated forgiveness in the Bible means simply to send away, without reference to how the sin is sent away; but God's word states plainly that sins are forgiven, sent away, by Christ bearing them. "Behold the lamb of God that taketh away the sin of the world."--John 1:29. "Who his own self bare our sins in his own body on the tree."--1 Peter 2:24; "Christ died for our sins."--1 Cor. 15:3. Concerning the justice of Christ dying for our sins, see the next chapter. The prayer of the publican in the old version, "God be merciful to me the sinner," Luke 18:13, has misled many. If that was really the prayer of the publican, how _could_ the Saviour have said, "This man went down to his house _justified_"? The margin of the Revised Version gives what the Greek says, "Be thou propitiated." It is the same Greek word that in Heb. 2:17 is translated, "to make reconciliation for the sins of the people." President Strong of Rochester Theological Seminary gives the exact meaning of it when he renders it, "Be thou propitiated to me the sinner by the sacrifice whose smoke was then ascending in the presence of the publican while he prayed." And Jesus shows what the publican said when He added, "This man went down to his house _justified_." It is said that a young man ran away from his widowed mother and was gone for years. One stormy night sitting near the window sewing, while the rain was beating against the window pane, she thought she heard a noise. Looking up she saw the shaggy, bearded face of a ragged tramp pressed against the window pane, but it faded back into the storm as she looked up. Faint lines in the face aroused memory. As the needle was plied the mind was busy. Again a slight noise caused her to look up, and again the shaggy, bearded face of the tramp faded back into the storm. This time she knew that she was not mistaken. The shaggy beard could not hide the lines in the face of her long-lost boy. Throwing up the window she cried, "Come in, William, oh, come in." Stepping to where the light fell full in his face, while the tears coursed down his cheeks, he said, "Mother, I can't come in till my sin has been put out of the way." There was honor left in the tramp yet. There ought to be honor enough in every human being not to wish to go to Heaven, not to try to go to Heaven, at the expense of God's justice. Jesus said, John 10:1, 7, "He that entereth not by the door into the fold of the sheep, but climbeth up some other way, the same is a thief and a robber." "Verily, verily I say unto you, I am the door." Jesus says, then, that those who confess their sins, and pray for forgiveness and claim it, and yet reject Him as the door, are thieves and robbers. God does forgive the redeemed, for they are His children (Gal. 4:4-7), on confession (1 John 1:9); but for those who are under the law, His word is plain, "Apart from shedding of blood there is no remission."--Heb. 9:22. God's word states plainly how our sins are put away; not by, or because of, the praying and weeping and confession of the sinner, nor the praying and weeping and interceding of others for the sinner, for God to forgive him; "but now once in the end of the world hath he appeared to put away sin by the _sacrifice of himself_."--Heb. 9:26. Concerning the justice of putting away sin in this way, see next chapter. On this point Walker well says, "If the holiness of the law was not maintained, that sense of guilt and danger could not be produced which is necessary in order that man may have a spiritual Saviour."--_Walker, in "The Philosophy of the Plan of Salvation."_ Again he says, "When He reveals His perfect law, that law cannot, from the nature of its author, allow the commission of a single sin."--_Walker, in "The Philosophy of the Plan of Salvation."_ Further, he says, "God ought not to allow one sin; if He did, the law would not be holy, nor adapted to make men holy."--_Walker, in "The Philosophy of the Plan of Salvation."_ Equally to the point are the words of James Denny, "It is an immediate inference, then, from all that we have seen in the New Testament, that where there is no atonement there is no gospel. To preach the love of God out of relation to the death of Christ, or to preach the love of God in the death of Christ, but without being able to relate it to sin, or to preach that forgiveness of sins as the free gift of God's love while the death of Christ has no special significance assigned to it, is not, if the New Testament is the rule and standard of Christianity, to preach the gospel at all."--_Denny, in "The Death of Christ."_ III JESUS THE CHRIST AS SIN-BEARER--GOD'S JUSTICE AND LOVE "God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten Son that whosoever believeth on him should not perish, but have eternal life."--John 3:16. "That he might himself be just and the justifier of him that hath faith in Jesus."--Rom. 3:26. "He was wounded for our transgressions; he was bruised for our iniquities; the chastisement of our peace was upon him; and with his stripes we are healed. All we like sheep have gone astray; we have turned every one to his own way; and the Lord hath laid on him the iniquity of us all."--Is. 53:5, 6. "Christ died for our sins."--1 Cor. 15:3. "Our Lord Jesus Christ, who gave himself for our sins."--Gal. 1:3, 4. "Who his own self bare our sins in his own body on the tree."--1 Peter 2:24. "Christ also suffered for sins once, the righteous for the unrighteous."--1 Peter 3:18. "Even as the Son of man came not to be ministered unto, but to minister and to give His life a ransom for many."--Matt. 20:28. "There is one mediator between God and men, the man Christ Jesus; who gave himself a ransom for all."--1 Tim. 2:5, 6. "Christ redeemed us from the curse of the law, having become a curse for us."--Gal. 3:13. "Our Saviour Jesus Christ; who gave himself for us, that he might redeem us from all iniquity."--Titus 2:13, 14. "By which will we have been sanctified through the offering of the body of Jesus Christ once for all."--Heb. 10:10. "For by one offering he hath perfected forever them that are sanctified."--Heb. 10:14. "Nor yet by the blood of goats and bulls, but through his own blood entered in once for all into the holy place, having obtained eternal redemption."--Heb. 9:12. "This is my blood of the new covenant, which is poured out for many unto the remission of sins."--Matt. 26:28. "And they sing a new song, saying, Worthy art thou to take the book and to open the seals thereof; for thou wast slain, and didst purchase unto God with thy blood men of every tribe and tongue and people and nation."--Rev. 5:9. "Herein is love, not that we loved God, but that he loved us, and sent his Son to be the propitiation for our sins."--1 John 4:10. "The Son of God who loved me, and gave himself up for me."--Gal. 2:20. Reader, God's justice and love are both shown in the Saviour dying for our sins. Substitution is the _only way_ of salvation when justice and love are both considered. It was God's justice that made it necessary for Christ to die for our sins. "Even so _must_ the Son of man be lifted up,"--John 3:14;--"that he might himself be _just_ and the _justifier_ of him that hath faith in Jesus."--Rom. 3:26. And it was God's love that let Him die for our sins, "for God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten Son."--John 3:16. What you, reader, ought to desire to know, is simply God's way. The Scriptures at the beginning of the chapter, if language can make anything plain, show clearly that the sinner's only escape from the just punishment of his sins lies in Jesus dying in his place to set him free from the just penalty due his sins; and they make it plain that this settles the _full_ penalty for _all sins_. But the objection is raised and pressed with all the force of human ingenuity and scholarship, backed by the prestige of some occupying the highest positions in literary and theological institutions, that it is morally wrong for the innocent to suffer the penalty of the guilty. With a zeal deserving a better cause, many who stand high as professed Christians and teachers join hands with the rankest, most blatant infidels, and press this, to them, unanswerable objection to Christ dying for our sins as our substitute. This friendship between infidelity and professed Christian teachers reminds one of another occasion when our Saviour was set at naught and two became friends with each other that very day (Luke 23:11, 12). Let us face this objection honestly and earnestly, for our eternal destiny turns on this one point. _Is it morally wrong for the innocent to bear the sins of the guilty?_ In the first place it is _not_ morally wrong, because God would not do morally wrong, and God _did_ let the innocent suffer the penalty of the guilty. The language of Scripture teaching that Jesus suffered the penalty of our sins for us is plain and simple, and all efforts to take from the Scripture language its simple, plain, natural meaning are pitiable, and if contempt were ever justifiable, would deserve the contempt of all honest men. Let the reader turn back and read the Scriptures at the head of this chapter and decide for himself as to their obvious, intended meaning. Now, because God's word tells us plainly that God gave His only begotten Son, that He might be just, and thus the justifier of him who believes in Jesus, that Christ died for our sins, that He gave Himself for our sins, the just for the unjust,--it is right for the innocent to suffer the penalty of the guilty. To any honest, candid man, which is the correct way to reason? This thing is wrong; God did this thing; therefore, God did wrong? or, God does right; God did let Christ, the innocent, suffer and die for our sins, to _redeem_ from _all iniquity_; therefore it is right for the innocent to suffer the penalty of the guilty? Nor is Christ suffering as our substitute the Great Exception, as some timid ones have granted. It is in line with _God's Plan with Men_; it is in line with the best and noblest there is in man; and the opposite teaching, that it is wrong to let the innocent bear the penalty of the guilty, is not only wrong, but horrible and the extreme of heartlessness. Two men passing along the street at night hear groaning in the gutter; striking a match, they see two men lying in the gutter with their faces all gashed and bleeding. In a drunken street fight they have almost killed each other. Who did the sinning? Those two men lying in the gutter; they deserve to suffer the penalty of their sinning. But these other two men join hands, pay for a physician, a nurse and the hospital bill. In principle that is the innocent paying the penalty of the guilty. To say that this is wrong would mean to condemn the community to pass by day after day and see those ghastly, festering wounds, those parched lips and bloodshot eyes, and to listen to those dying groans. And yet in principle that is exactly what those demand for this sinful, sin-injured human race, when they say that it is morally wrong for Jesus the Saviour to suffer the penalty of our sins. A son becomes a drunkard; his drunkenness and debauchery utterly wreck his health. Some night the father finds his drunken son down in the street, a helpless invalid. The son did the sinning; he deserves to suffer the penalty of his sins; but the father takes him to his home and cares for him and supports him. In principle that is the innocent bearing the penalty of the guilty. To say that this is morally wrong would be to condemn that father to pass by day after day and see his son suffering the just consequences of his sin, to see him slowly starving to death, to see him gasping in death, and not be allowed to come to the rescue. Yet when men object to Christ bearing the penalty of the sinner's sins they are, in principle, taking that stand; for in principle Jesus, dying for our sins, did what the father did with the son. A prominent woman in America was dying from lack of blood; back of it somewhere was violation of some law of God, some law of health. Her noble husband had the surgeon join their arteries, and every beat of his noble heart drove his well blood into the body of his dying wife, and he saved her life. These objectors praise that act; they see nothing morally wrong in it. Yet when Jesus, in principle, did the same thing for sinners in order to save them, these same men, with a haughty, scornful tone, say that it is morally wrong for the innocent to suffer in place of the guilty. "Nay but, O man, who art thou that repliest against God?"--Rom. 9:20. Had the objectors said that it was wrong to _force_ the innocent to suffer the penalty of the guilty, that would have been true, but Jesus was not forced. Listen to Him, John 10:17, 18, "Therefore doth the Father love me, because I lay down my life that I may take it again. No one taketh it away from me, but I lay it down of myself. I have power to lay it down and I have power to take it again." Nor is Christ dying for our sins, as taught by the Scriptures, a makeshift, but, rather, a real, full _redemption, ransom_. Just as a captain can honorably, honestly be given as a ransom for a number of private soldiers in an exchange of prisoners; just as a diamond can redeem a debt of many dollars; just as one man is allowed to pay another's debt; just as one man is allowed to pay another's fine in a courtroom; so our Lord and Saviour "gave himself for us, that he might _redeem_ us from _all iniquity_." All illustrations of Deity fall short, but just as a man could ransom all the ants that crawl upon the earth, were they under moral law and had violated it; just as a man could, on account of the vast difference in the scale of being, suffer in his own body all that all the ants upon earth could suffer; so Jesus, Immanuel, God with us, redeemed us from "all iniquity." It was not merely the nails driven through His quivering flesh, nor the physical pangs, but "the Lord hath laid on him _the iniquity_ of us all." Hence, that awful cry, "My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?" He was in the sinner's place, suffering the sinner's penalty for sin. "He hath made him to be sin for us."--2 Cor. 6:21. Instead of proudly cavilling and warping and trying to avoid the simple, plain meaning of God's word, should you not rather, reader, bow in reverence before such love, realize that it was for you, yes, _you_, and that through His suffering and in no other way, you may escape the just punishment of your sins and spend eternity in Heaven? The world weeps over the story of the noble fireman who gave his life to rescue a little girl from a burning building, but it coldly scorns and proudly rejects salvation through the redemption of Jesus the Christ. Oh, the pride and wickedness of the human heart! Be not you, reader, of those who sit in the seat of the scornful, but the rather of those who at the last day will sing, Rev. 5:9, "Worthy art thou to take the book and to open the seals thereof; for thou wast slain, and didst purchase unto God with thy blood, men of every tribe and tongue and people and nation." Let us consider carefully what it really means when we are told that "Christ died _for our sins_,"--1 Cor. 15:3, that He "gave himself _for our sins_,"--Gal. 1:4; that "his own self bare our sins in his own body upon the tree,"--1 Peter 2:24; that "Christ also suffered for sins once, the righteous for the unrighteous."--1 Peter 3:18. God's word explains it clearly: "That he might himself be _just_ and the _justifier_ of him that hath faith in Jesus."--Rom. 3:26. "_That he might be just._" Notice it carefully, "_That he might be just._" Take it in its full meaning, "That he might be just." A question: How _could_ God be _just_ and _justify_ any sinner apart from the fact that "Christ died for our sins," that "the Lord hath laid on him the iniquity of us all"? Reader, no man, however learned, will ever answer that question. He may sneer; he may cavil; he may warp; he may try to confuse; but he will never come out in the open and answer that question. He may say that it is morally wrong for the innocent to bear the penalty of the guilty, but that objection is met and answered above in this chapter. Let us face a trilemma; three, and only three plans, were possible for God with man:-- First, To have been just with man, without any love or mercy; hence, for every sinner to have suffered the just penalty for his sins, without any redemption. That would have meant Hell for every responsible human being, without any Heaven at all. Second, To have been all mercy and all love and no justice. That would have meant no moral laws; for why have moral laws, if there would be no penalty, no justice? That would have meant a premium on crime. That would have meant the debased, the debauched, the immoral, the drunken, the fiend, on a level with the chaste, the pure, the upright, the true. That would have meant unbridled rein to passion and lust and every other evil inclination, and no penalty following. That would have meant Hell in trying to get rid of Hell. Third, There was left but one other possible plan, to be just and at the same time extend love to the sinners. In the nature of the case, real redemption, without any makeshift, was the only way this _could_ be done. "Even so _must_ the Son of man be lifted up,"--John 3:14; "that he himself might be _just_ and the _justifier_ of him that hath faith in Jesus,"--Rom. 3:26; "God so _loved_ the world that he gave his only begotten Son,"--John 3:16; "Herein is love, not that we loved God, but that he loved us, and sent his Son to be _the propitiation for our sins_."--1 John 4:10. This leads to another question: How can God be _just_ and _not_ justify "him that hath faith in Jesus"? Again men may quibble and warp, and ridicule, but no one will ever answer the question. And the reason why this question will never be answered leads to another question: From how many of his sins is the one "that hath faith in Jesus" _justified_? We have now gotten to the very centre of the whole problem of salvation. Let us give it most careful consideration. In not one of the Scriptures cited at the head of this chapter is there one word that limits the number of sins for which Christ died, or from which the believer is justified. That of itself is sufficient warrant for us to conclude that Christ died for _all_ of the sins of the believer, that when He "gave himself for our sins" (Gal. 1:4), it included _all_ of our sins, and that the believer is justified from _all_ of his sins. One man promises another that he will pay his debts. That of itself means all of his debts, unless the one making the promise was simply juggling with words. While this of itself would be sufficient, God in His word has made it positive and absolute as to how many of the believer's sins were laid on Christ ("the Lord hath laid on him the iniquity of us all."--Is. 53:6); for how many of our sins Christ gave Himself ("Who gave himself for our sins."--Gal. 1:4); for how many of our sins Christ died (1 Cor. 15:3); from how many of his sins the believer is _justified_, ("that he might himself be _just_ and the _justifier_ of him that hath faith in Jesus."--Rom. 3:26). In Lev. 16:21, 22, God gives us a picture, foreshadowing the Saviour, of laying the sins on the substitute: "And Aaron shall lay both his hands upon the head of the live goat, and confess over him _all_ the iniquity of the children of Israel, and _all_ their transgressions, even _all_ their sins; and he shall put them upon the head of the goat and shall send him away by the hand of a man that is in readiness into the wilderness: And the goat shall bear upon him _all_ their iniquities." "Behold the Lamb of God that taketh [or beareth] away the sins of the world."--John 1:29. _But how many_ of our sins? Let God's word answer: Titus 2:13, 14, "Our Saviour Jesus Christ; who gave himself for us, that he might _redeem_ us from _all iniquity_." Look at it again, reader; grasp its full meaning; let it be impressed indelibly upon your soul: "Our Saviour Jesus Christ; who gave himself for us, that he might _redeem_ us from _all_ iniquity." Then as certainly as the believer is redeemed by Him, he is redeemed from _all_ iniquity; and as certainly as he is redeemed from all iniquity, that certainly the believer is going to Heaven, for there is nothing left that can cause him to be lost. Hence God, through Paul, has told us "By him every one that believeth is _justified_ from _all_ things."--Acts 13:39. If our Saviour Jesus Christ gave Himself for us that he might _redeem_ us from _all_ iniquity (Titus 2:13, 14), how can God be _just_ and _not_ justify every one that believes from _all_ things (Acts 13:39)? And if the believer is _justified_ from _all_ things (Acts 13:39), he is certain to go to Heaven. This is _God's plan_; this is God's will; "by the which will we have been sanctified through the offering of the body of Jesus Christ _once for all_."--Heb. 10:10. "_For by one_ offering he hath _perfected forever_ them that are sanctified."--Heb. 10:14. "Nor yet by the blood of goats and calves, but through his own blood entered in _once for all_ into the holy place, having obtained _eternal redemption_."--Heb. 9:12. Hence Jesus said, "Verily, verily I say unto you, he that heareth my word and believeth on him that sent me hath everlasting life and shall not come into condemnation, but is passed from death to life."--John 5:24. While thus is manifested God's justice, and the _only_ way that God _could_ be "just and the justifier of him that hath faith in Jesus" (Rom. 3:26), for Jesus Himself said it ("Even so _must_ the Son of man be lifted up."--John 3:14); let the reader not forget that it equally manifests God's love, and the Saviour's love. "Herein is love, not that we loved God, but that he loved us, and sent his Son to be the propitiation for our sins."--1 John 4:10. "The Son of God who loved me and gave himself for me."--Gal. 2:20. If God's love is amazing in sending His Son to be the propitiation for our sins (1 John 4:10), if the Saviour's love is amazing in loving us and giving Himself for us (Gal. 2:20), how infinitely more amazing is this love when we see that it has obtained _eternal redemption_ for us (Heb. 9:12); that it has redeemed us from _all_ iniquity (Titus 2:14), and that every one that believes is _justified_ from _all_ things (Acts 13:39)? Reader, the greatest crime that is ever committed on this earth is to reject this "so great salvation" (Heb. 2:3); this redemption from all iniquity (Titus 2:14), and to trifle with the amazing love that provided a way by which He Himself might be just and the justifier of him that hath faith in Jesus (Rom. 3:26). We shudder at the horrible crimes reported in the daily papers, at those recorded in history; but far greater, far blacker, more terrible, is the crime of a human being rejecting this great provision of God's love. Only intellectual pride, religious prejudice, family or race ties, love of the world, or secret sin, can be the cause of the reader taking such a fatal step; and fearful will be the consequences of letting any one of these cause the rejection of the only salvation that God's love and justice could provide. The reader cannot plead that God has not given sufficient proof that He has given us a revelation in His word (let the reader go back and read again the Introduction and the reference for further study); nor can he plead that God's word does not make the message plain (let the reader go back and study the Scriptures at the beginning of this chapter). It is a solemn and awful step, reader, one never to be retraced, to decide to reject this salvation, and to go out into the dark, unending future beyond the grave, unredeemed from iniquity, with no certain hope, when God has warned you, "Apart from shedding of blood there is no remission,"--Heb. 9:22. It is an awful, eternal crisis, when you see God's only provision for you, so complete, so perfect, so sure, and then face His warning, "I call heaven and earth to witness against you this day, that I have set before thee life and death, the blessing and the curse: therefore choose _life_." _FOR FURTHER STUDY._--There are those who deny God's justice in Christ dying for our sins (1 Cor. 15:3), in Christ giving Himself for our sins (Gal. 1:4), in Christ redeeming us from all iniquity (Titus 2:14). Expressions from the two most prominent rejecters will show the principal reasons given by all other rejecters of redemption through Christ:-- "Moral justice cannot take the innocent for the guilty, even if the innocent would offer itself."--_The "Age of Reason" by Thomas Paine._ "The outrage offered to the moral justice of God, by supposing Him to make the innocent suffer for the guilty."--_The "Age of Reason," by Thomas Paine._ "An execution is an object for gratitude; the preachers daub themselves with the blood, like a troop of assassins, and pretend to admire the brilliancy it gives them."--_The "Age of Reason," by Thomas Paine._ The other is Mrs. Mary Baker G. Eddy in her "Science and Health, with Key to the Scriptures": "One sacrifice, however great, is insufficient to pay the debt of sin. The atonement requires constant self-immolation on the sinner's part." Again, "Another's suffering cannot lessen our own liability." Again, "The time is not distant when the ordinary theological views of atonement will undergo a great change,--a change as radical as that which has come over popular opinions in regard to predestination and future punishment. Does erudite theology regard the crucifixion of Jesus chiefly as providing a ready pardon for all sinners who ask for it and are willing to be forgiven? Does spiritualism find Jesus's death necessary only for the presentation, after death, of the material Jesus, as a proof that spirits can return to earth? Then we must differ from them both." It is not to be wondered at that she takes her stand with Thomas Paine in rejecting the teaching that Christ died for our sins (1 Cor. 15:3), and that He redeemed us from all iniquity (Titus 2:14), when she says, "Does divine love commit a fraud on humanity by making man inclined to sin and then punishing him for it?" Again, "In common justice we must admit that God will not punish man for doing what He created man capable of doing, and knew from the outset that man would do." Again, "The destruction of sin is the divine method of pardon. Being destroyed, sin needs no other pardon." There is one vast difference between these two who reject Jesus as our sin-bearer, our Redeemer,--Thomas Paine does not masquerade under the name "Christian." Why should others who stand with him in rejecting complete redemption through Christ? Catholics by the sacrifice of the mass, the unbloody sacrifice, the elevation of the host, teach that the wafer is changed into the real "body, blood, soul and divinity" of Jesus Christ, and that it is then offered as a sacrifice. They thereby reject the complete redemption through Christ dying for our sins (1 Cor. 15:3), redeeming us from all iniquity (Titus 2:14). They thereby deny that He "offered one sacrifice for sin forever,"--Heb. 10:12, and that "by one offering he hath perfected forever them that are sanctified."--Heb. 10:14. Having rejected Him as complete Redeemer, they have no real Saviour at all. But those who make salvation dependent on moral character, or baptism, or church membership, just as surely as the Catholics reject the completeness of the redemption. There are some who sneer at this teaching as the "commercial view" of redemption, in the face of God's word that declares, "ye were _bought with a price,"_--1 Cor. 6:20; "worthy art thou to take the book and to open the seals thereof; for thou wast slain, and didst _purchase_ unto God with thy blood men of every tribe and tongue and people and nation."--Rev. 5:9. (R. V.) Consider the testimony of three over against the two quoted against this teaching of God's word:-- "I saw that if Jesus suffered in my stead, I could not suffer, too; and that if He bore all my sin, I had no more sin to bear. My iniquity must be blotted out if Jesus bore it in my stead and suffered all its penalty."--_C. H. Spurgeon._ "If you believe on him, I tell you you cannot go to Hell; for that were to make the sacrifice of Christ of none effect. It cannot be that a sacrifice should be accepted and yet the soul should die for whom that sacrifice had been received. If the believing soul could be condemned, then why a sacrifice? Every believer can claim that the sacrifice was actually made for him: by faith he has laid his hands on it, and made it his own, and therefore he may rest assured that he can never perish. The Lord would not receive this offering on our behalf and then condemn us to die."--_C. H. Spurgeon._ "The law of God was more vindicated by the death of Christ than it would have been had all the transgressors been sent to Hell. For the Son of God to suffer for sin was a more glorious establishment of the government of God than for the whole race to suffer."--_C. H. Spurgeon._ "It is the obvious implication of these words (the Righteous One for the unrighteous ones) that the death on which such stress is laid was something to which the unrighteous were liable because of their sins, and that in their interest the Righteous One took it on Himself."--_Denny, in "The Death of Christ."_ "This is his gospel, that a Righteous One has once for all faced and taken up and in death exhausted the responsibilities of the unrighteous, so that they no more stand between them and God."--_Denny, in "The Death of Christ."_ "If Christ died the death in which sin had involved us, if in His death He took the responsibility of our sins upon Himself, no word is equal to this which falls short of what is meant by calling Him our substitute."_--Denny, in "The Death of Christ."_ "I do not know any word that conveys the truth of this if 'vicarious' or 'substitutionary' does not; nor do I know any interpretation of Christ's death which enables us to regard it as a demonstration of love to sinners, if this vicarious or substitutionary character is denied. There is much preaching _about_ Christ's death which fails to be a preaching _of_ Christ's death, and therefore to be in the full sense of the term Gospel Preaching, because it ignores this. The simplest hearer feels that there is something irrational in saying that the death of Christ is a great proof of love to the sinful unless there is shown at the same time a rational connection between that death and the responsibilities which sin involves, and from which that death delivers. Perhaps one should beg pardon for using so simple an illustration, but the point is a vital one, and it is necessary to be clear. If I were sitting on the end of a pier on a summer day, enjoying the sunshine and the air, and some one came along and jumped into the water and got drowned to prove his love to me, I should find it quite unintelligible. I might be much in need of love, but an act in no relation to any of my necessities could not prove it. But if I had fallen over the pier and were drowning and some one sprang into the water and at the cost of making my peril, or what but for him would be my fate, his own, saved me from death, then I should say, 'Greater love hath no man than this.' I should say it intelligently, because there would be an intelligible relation between the sacrifice which love made and the necessity from which it redeemed."--_Denny, in "The Death of Christ."_ "Christ died for sins once for all, and the man who believes in Christ and in His death has his relation to God _once for all determined not by sin but by the atonement_."--_Denny, in "The Death of Christ."_ "One who knew no sin had, in obedience to the Father, to take on Him the responsibility, the doom, the curse, the death of the sinful. And if any one says that this was morally impossible, may we not ask again, What is the alternative? Is it not that the sinful should be left alone with their responsibility, doom, curse, and death?"--_Denny, in "The Death of Christ."_ "Redemption, it may be said, springs from love, yet love is only a word of which we do not know the meaning till it is interpreted for us by redemption."--_Denny, in "The Death of Christ."_ "Unless we can preach a finished work of Christ in relation to sin, a reconciliation or peace which has been achieved independently of us at infinite cost, and to which we are called in a word of ministry of reconciliation, we have no real gospel for sinful men at all."--_Denny, in "The Death of Christ."_ "If the evangelist has not something to preach of which he can say, 'If any man makes it his business to subvert this, let him be anathema,' he has no gospel at all."--_Denny, in "The Death of Christ."_ "_As there is only one God, so there can be only one Gospel. If God has really done something in Christ on which the salvation of the world depends, and if He has made it known, then it is a Christian duty to be intolerant of everything which ignores, denies, or explains it away. The man who perverts it is the worst enemy of God and men._"--_Denny, in "The Death of Christ."_ "We should remember, also, that it is not always intellectual sensitiveness, nor care for the moral interests involved, which sets the mind to criticise statements of the Atonement. There _is_ such a thing as pride, the last form of which is unwillingness to become debtors even to Christ for forgiveness of sins."--_Denny, in "The Death of Christ."_ But the Saviour could not have been a _Redeemer_, if He had not been God manifest in the flesh, for two reasons:-- First, if He had not been Deity, God manifest in the flesh, His dying for our sins (1 Cor. 15:3) would not have been _Redemption_, but a mere makeshift. "It is not possible that the blood of bulls and goats should take away sins."--Heb. 10:4. Why not? Because in that case there would have been no real _redemption_, but only a makeshift. Second, had the Saviour been anything other than God manifest in the flesh, He would have _won_ men _from_ God and alienated them from God. On this point let the reader consider well the following from Walker, in "The Philosophy of the Plan of Salvation":--"As God was the author of the law, and as He is the only Proper Object both of supreme love and obedience; and as man could not be happy in obeying the law without loving its Author, it follows that the thing now necessary, in order that man's affections might be fixed upon the proper object of love and obedience, was, that the Supreme God should, by self-denying kindness, manifest spiritual mercy to those who felt their spiritual wants, and thus draw to Himself the love and worship of mankind. _If any other being should supply the need, that being would receive the love_; it was therefore necessary that _God Himself_ should do it, in order that the affections of believers might centre upon the proper object." "Now, suppose Jesus Christ was not God, nor a true manifestation of the Godhead in human nature, but a man, or angel, authorized by God to accomplish the redemption of the human race from sin and misery. In doing this, it appears, from the nature of the thing, and from the Scriptures, that He did what was adapted to, and what does, draw the heart of every true believer, as in the case of the apostles and the early Christians, to Himself as the supreme or governing object of affection. Their will is governed by the will of Christ; and love to Him moves their heart and hands. _Now, if it be true that Jesus Christ is not God, then He has devised and executed a plan by which the supreme affections of the human heart are drawn to Himself, and alienated from God_, the proper object of love and worship: and God, having authorized this plan, _He has devised means to make man love Christ, the creature, more than the creator_, who is God over all, blessed for evermore. "But it is said that Christ having taught and suffered by the will and authority of God, we are under obligation to love God for what Christ has done for us. It is answered, that this is impossible. We cannot love one being for what another does or suffers on our behalf. We can love no being for labors and self-denials on our behalf, but that being who valiantly labors and denies himself. It is the kindness and mercy exhibited in the self-denial that move the affections; and the affections can move to no being but the one that makes the self-denial, because it is the self-denial that draws out the love of the heart. "It is said, that Christ was sent by God to do His will and not His own; and therefore we ought to love God, as the being to whom gratitude and love are due for what Christ said and suffered. "Then it is answered: If God willed that Christ, as a creature of His, should come, and by His suffering and death redeem sinners, we ought not to love Christ for it, because He did it as a creature in obedience to the commands of God, and was not self-moved nor meritorious in the work; and we cannot love God for it, for the labor and self-denial were not borne by Him. And further: If one being, by an act of his authority, should cause another innocent being to suffer, in order that he might be loved who had imposed the suffering, but not borne it, it would render him unworthy of love. If God had caused Jesus Christ, being His creature, to suffer, that He might be loved Himself for Christ's sufferings, while He had no connection with them, instead of such an exhibition, on the part of God, producing love to Him, it would procure pity for Christ and aversion towards God. So that, neither God, nor Christ, nor any other being, can be loved for mercy extended by self-denials to the needy, unless those self-denials were produced by a voluntary act of mercy upon the part of the being who suffers them; and no being, but the one who made the sacrifice, could be meritorious in the case. It follows, therefore, incontrovertibly, that if Christ was a creature--no matter of how exalted worth--and not God; and if God approved of His work in saving sinners, _He approved of treason against His own government_; because, in that case, the work of Christ was adapted to draw, and did necessarily draw, the affections of the human soul to Himself, as its Spiritual Saviour and thus alienated them from God, their rightful object. And Jesus Christ Himself had the design of drawing men's affections to Himself in view, by His crucifixion; says He, 'And I, if I be lifted up from the earth, will draw all men unto me.' This He said signifying what death He should die: thus distinctly stating that it was the self-denials and mercy exhibited in the crucifixion that would draw out the affections of the human soul, and that those affections would be drawn to Himself as the suffering Saviour. But that God would sanction a scheme which would involve treason against Himself, and that Christ should participate in it, is absurd and impossible, and therefore cannot be true. But if the Divine Nature was united with the human in the teaching and work of Christ, if God was in Christ (drawing the affections of men, or) 'reconciling the world unto himself'--if, when Christ was lifted up, as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, He drew, as He said He would, the affections of all believers unto Himself; and then, if He ascended, as the Second Person of the Trinity, into the bosom of the Eternal Godhead--He thereby, after He had engaged, by His work on earth, the affections of the human soul, bore them up to the bosom of the Father, from whence they had fallen. Thus the ruins of the Fall were rebuilt, and the affections of the human soul again restored to God, the Creator, and proper Object of Supreme love." Finally, let the reader give most earnest thought to the inevitable conclusion drawn by the same author: "How, then, could God manifest that mercy to sinners by which love to Himself and to His law would be produced, while His infinite holiness and justice would be maintained? We answer, in no way possible, but by some expedient by which His justice and mercy would both be exalted. If, in the wisdom of the Godhead, such a way could be devised by which God Himself could save the soul from the consequences of its guilt,--by which He Himself could, in some way, suffer and make self-denials for its good; and by His own interposition open a way for the soul to recover from its lost and condemned condition, then the result would follow inevitably, that every one of the human family who had been led to see and feel his guilty condition before God, and who believed in God thus manifesting Himself to rescue his soul from spiritual death, every one thus believing would, from the necessities of his nature, be led to love God his Saviour; and mark, the greater the self-denial and the suffering on the part of the Saviour in ransoming the soul, the stronger would be the affection felt for Him."--_Walker, in "The Philosophy of the Plan of Salvation."_ IV THE NEW RELATION--THE NEW MOTIVE "What things soever the law saith, it saith _to them who are under the law_; that every mouth may be stopped, and all the world may become guilty before God."--Rom. 3:19. "Ye are not under the law."--Rom. 6:14. "The law was our schoolmaster to bring us unto Christ, that we might be justified by faith, but _after that faith is come we are no longer under a schoolmaster_. For ye are all the children of God by faith in Jesus Christ."--Gal. 3:24-26. "When the fulness of time was come, God sent forth his Son born of a woman, born under the law, to redeem them that were under the law, _that we might receive the adoption of sons_. And because ye are sons, God hath sent forth the spirit of his Son into your hearts, crying Abba, Father. Wherefore thou art no more a servant, but a son; and if a son, then an heir of God through Christ."--Gal. 4:4-7. "Having in love predestinated us for adoption as sons through Jesus Christ to himself."--Eph. 1:5. "The love of Christ constraineth us; because we thus judge, that if one died for all, then all died; and he died for all, that they who live should not henceforth live unto themselves, but unto him who died for them and rose again."--2 Cor. 5:14, 15. "There was a certain creditor who had two debtors; the one owed five hundred pence, and the other fifty. And when they had nothing to pay, he frankly forgave them both. Tell me therefore which of them will love him most?"--Luke 7:41, 42. "Though I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, and have not love, I am become as sounding brass, or a clanging cymbal. And though I have the gift of prophecy, and understand all mysteries, and all knowledge; and though I have all faith, so that I could remove mountains, and have not love, I am nothing. And though I bestow all my goods to feed the poor, and though I give my body to be burned, and have not love, it profiteth me nothing."--1 Cor. 13:1-3. _In God's plan with men_, His purpose in giving the law has been sadly misunderstood. To the Jews the law was given on tablets of stone and copied in their sacred writings; to the Gentiles the law was written in their hearts. The one class had more light than the other, and therefore will be judged differently. "As many as have sinned without law shall also perish without law; and as many as have sinned under the law shall be judged by the law."--Rom. 2:12. "For when the Gentiles, who have no law, do by nature the things of the law, these, having no law, are a law unto themselves; who show the works of the law written in their hearts, their conscience also bearing witness, and their reasonings mutually accusing or even excusing them."--Rom. 2:14. Whether Jew or Gentile, God had one purpose in giving the law, "Now we know that what things soever the law saith, it saith to those who are under the law, that _every_ mouth may be stopped and _all the world_ be under judgement to God." God's plan with the law includes "every mouth," "all the world," whether the law was written in their hearts or in sacred writings; and His purpose is, not that they should be saved by keeping the law, for then no one would be saved, for "all have sinned and come short of the glory of God,"--Rom. 3:23; but that they might be brought under judgment to God, every mouth stopped, guilty, and thus be brought to realize their need of a Redeemer. On this point God's word makes His purpose very plain: "The Scripture hath shut up all under sin, that the promise by faith in Jesus Christ might be given to them that believe. But before faith, we were confined under law, shut up unto the faith about to be revealed. Wherefore the law was our tutor [or schoolmaster] unto Christ, that we might be justified by faith. But after that faith is come we are no longer under a tutor [or schoolmaster]."--Gal. 3:23-25. God's word is plain, that God put men under the law, not that they should be saved by keeping it, but that they might be led to see their need of a Saviour, one to redeem them from the curse of the law: "Christ hath redeemed us from the curse of the law, being made a curse for us,"--Gal 3:13; and then, having redeemed them from the curse of the law, and from all iniquity (Titus 2:14), to adopt them as His own children, "heirs of God and joint heirs with Christ."--Rom. 8:17. So wonderful is the plan that it is hard for a human being to grasp it. _God's plan with men_ is not simply to save them, but to put them above all other created beings. "Unto which of the angels said he at any time, Thou art my Son?"--Heb. 1:5. Yet, "having in love predestinated us for adoption as sons through Jesus Christ to himself,"--Eph. 1:5 (1911 Bible), "heirs of God and joint heirs with Christ,"--Rom. 8:17, He puts us far above angels; "for ye are all sons of God through faith in Christ Jesus."--Gal. 3:26. But men can only come into this higher relation to God as sons by being redeemed from under the lower relation, under the law. Hear God's word: "When the fulness of the time was come, God sent forth his Son, born of a woman, born under the law, to redeem them that were under the law, _that we might receive the adoption of sons_."--Gal. 4:4, 5. This higher relation as sons of God can be attained only by men coming out from under the law; and men can come out from under the law only by being redeemed from under the law. God's word teaches clearly, then, that when one is redeemed, he is no longer under the law. "Ye are not under the law,"--Rom. 6:14; "What things soever the law saith, it saith to _those who are under the law_."--Rom. 3:19. Then some are under the law and some are not under the law; "Wherefore the law was our tutor unto Christ that we might be justified by faith. But after the faith is come, _we are no longer under a tutor_."--Gal. 3:24, 25. Pause, reader, and try to grasp the meaning of this. If the believer is redeemed from all iniquity (Titus 2:14), and is not under the law, (Rom. 6:14), then he is sure of Heaven; for "sin is not reckoned when there is no law."--Rom. 5:13. It is not reckoned or imputed because it has all been reckoned or imputed to Christ (Is. 53:6, Titus 2:14). Why, then, serve God? Not from fear of the law; not from fear of Hell; but from love to Him who redeemed us from the curse of the law, having been made a curse for us (Gal. 3:13). Just as clearly God's word teaches that those who are redeemed from the curse of the law (Gal. 3:13), from all iniquity (Titus 2:14), become the sons of God; for that purpose "God sent forth his Son, born of a woman, born under the law, to redeem them that were under the law that we might receive the adoption of sons. And because ye are sons, God hath sent forth the spirit of his Son into your hearts crying, Abba, Father."--Gal. 4:4-6. "For ye are all the sons of God through faith in Christ Jesus."--Gal. 3:26. But there is, in _God's plan with men_, beyond this a still more blessed, wonderful teaching: "Wherefore, thou art no more a servant, but a son."--Gal. 4:7. The one who is redeemed from under the law (Gal. 3:13) never gets back under the law again,--"Wherefore thou art no more a servant, but a son." That means, then, certainty of going to Heaven, certainty of being a son of God forever. And this new relation, and this certainty of Heaven are settled for men, not when they die, nor when they have united with some church, or have been baptised, but the moment men repent from their sins and accept the Saviour as their Redeemer from all iniquity; for God's word says, "He that believeth on the son _hath_ everlasting life."--John 3:36; and "Ye _are_ all the sons of God through faith in Christ Jesus."--Gal. 3:26. This new relation with God gives men a new motive. Under the law, guilty, condemned by it, the motive was fear. But when men have been redeemed from under the law and adopted as sons of God, the motive of fear is no more the motive of life. "Ye have not received the spirit of bondage again to fear; but ye have received the spirit of adoption, whereby we cry, Abba, Father." The motive of the son towards the father is not fear, but love. And this love is produced by the fact that God, in love, provided this great, wonderful plan for men, "having in love predestinated us for adoption as sons through Jesus Christ to himself,"--Eph. 1:5, and the fact that the Saviour loved us and gave Himself for us (Gal. 2:20). Hence, Paul tells us, "The love of Christ [not the fear of the law, nor the fear of Hell] constrains us; because we thus judge, that if one died for all, then all died; and he died for all, that they who live should not henceforth live unto themselves, but unto him who died for them, and rose again." Our Saviour, the night before His crucifixion, made clear that this was to be the motive in the life of God's children. In instituting the Lord's supper He said, "This is my blood of the new covenant which is shed for many for the remission of sins."--Matt. 26:28; then, following this, before leaving the supper room, He said, "If ye love me, keep my commandments,"--John 14:15, not, "if ye are afraid of the law, keep my commandments"; not, "if ye are afraid of going to Hell, keep my commandments"; not, "if ye wish to make sure of going to Heaven, keep my commandments"; but, "if ye love me." But why love Him? Because "this is my blood of the new covenant which is shed for many for the remission of sins." That this love, and that _this kind of love_ is clearly the motive power of the real Christian life, notice the teaching of the Saviour in Luke 7:41, 43, "There was a certain creditor who had two debtors; the one owed five hundred pence and the other fifty. And when they had nothing to pay he frankly forgave them both. Tell me, therefore, which of them will love him most? Simon answered and said, I suppose that he to whom he forgave most. And he said unto him, Thou has rightly judged." This is no mere theory, that love _ought_ to be the controlling motive, but it _is_ the controlling motive. And it is not a mere theory that love _ought_ to constrain the real Christian, the real believer, but the love of Christ _does_ constrain us (2 Cor. 5:14). One may be moral, of deep piety, and yet if the motive power of his life is not this love, he is lost, not a real Christian. God's word makes this plain, "Though I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, and have not love, I am become as sounding brass, or a clanging cymbal. And though I have the gift of prophecy, and understand all mysteries, and all knowledge; and though I have all faith, so that I could remove mountains, and have not love, I am nothing. And though I bestow all my goods to feed the poor, and though I give my body to be burned, and have not love, it profiteth me nothing."--1 Cor. 13:1-3. Two of the mightiest preachers of all times, men whose tongues were those nearest to angels in preaching, Chalmers and Wesley, after years of most powerful preaching, came out and stated that during all those years they were lost, not Christians. Why? They had not been really redeemed from all iniquity (Titus 2:14); they had not been forgiven most; the motive had not been the motive of him who is forgiven most,--"Though I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, and have not love, I am become as sounding brass, or a clanging cymbal." Why? Because eloquent, powerful preaching cannot redeem from iniquity, and God has said plainly, "Apart from shedding of blood there is no remission."--Heb. 9:22. Men may write great books explaining the mysteries of God's word, commentaries, Sunday-school lesson helps, instructions to Christians; yet if the motive power of their lives is not love based on the fact that they are forgiven most (Luke 7:43), redeemed from all iniquity (Titus 2:14), they are lost, not real Christians,--"though I have the gift of prophecy, and understand all mysteries, and all knowledge; and though I have all faith, so that I could remove mountains, and have not love, I am nothing." Why? Because there is nothing in understanding all mysteries, and all knowledge, in writing commentaries and other helpful books, to redeem from all iniquity. And God has said plainly, "Apart from shedding of blood there is no remission." The great capitalist, the multi-millionaire, may turn philanthropist, and spend all his wealth in building schools, or libraries, or houses for the poor, or in feeding hundreds of thousands in times of widespread drouth; the Catholic nun or Protestant or Baptist nurse may give her life in the epidemic in nursing the sick; and the heroic fireman give his life in rescuing others from the flames; yet they are all lost, unless the motive power of life is love, produced by the fact that they are forgiven most, redeemed from all iniquity,--"Though I bestow all my goods to feed the poor, and though I give my body to be burned, and have not love, it profiteth me nothing." Why? Because there is nothing in giving away money to care for the poor, nor in giving up life for others, to redeem from iniquity. And God has said plainly, "Apart from shedding of blood there is no remission."--Heb. 9:22. When God, "That he might be just and the justifier of him that hath faith in Jesus,"--Rom. 3:26, "so loved the world that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life,"--John 3:16, men must not, they _must not_, from intellectual pride, religious prejudice, family or race ties, nor from any other motive, trifle with God and presume to dictate terms to the Most High. Were it one poor, obscure man who presumed to do this, men would say that he deserved to be left to answer for his own sins before God at last. But vast numbers, whole religious denominations and university titles cannot change the Most High. God does not go by majorities. Earth's respectability does not pass current in Heaven. "The wisdom of this world is foolishness with God."--1 Cor. 3:19. Who is this being to whom puny men in their pride and prejudice presume to dictate terms as to how they may escape the just penalty for their sins, as to how their sins should be taken away? "Who hath measured the waters in the hollow of his hand, and meted out heaven with the span, and comprehended the dust of the earth in a measure, and weighed the mountains in scales, and the hills in a balance? Who hath directed the spirit of the Lord, or being his counsellor hath taught him? With whom took he counsel? And who instructed him, and taught him in the path of judgement, and taught him knowledge, and showed to him the way of understanding? Behold, the nations are as a drop of a bucket, and are counted as the small dust of the balance; behold, he taketh up the hills as a little thing." "All nations before him are as nothing, and they are counted by him less than nothing, and vanity." "It is he that sitteth upon the circle of the earth, and the inhabitants thereof are as grasshoppers; that stretcheth out the heavens as a curtain, and spreadeth them out as a tent to dwell in; that bringeth the princes to nothing; that maketh the judges of the earth as vanity."--Is. 40:12-15, 17, 22, 23. A professor in a great university has recently said that to the "modern mind," untrained, as the Jews, to daily sacrifices, unused, as those of ancient times, to blood-atonement,--remission of sins by blood,--substitution does not commend itself. If he and those who think like him do not care enough as to their eternal destiny to strive to become acquainted with blood-atonement, to realize their need of it, and to see that God, in love, has provided it, complete and eternal, then there is nothing left but for them to go out into eternity to meet the just penalty of their sins; for even then God will be just to them. No one, barbarian or civilized, will ever be treated unjustly by the Most High. But it is objected that, if men are taught and believe that they have been redeemed from the curse of the law (Gal. 3:13), that they are not after that under the law (Rom. 6:14), that they have been adopted as God's sons (Gal. 4:4, 5), and that they are no more servants, but sons (Gal. 4:7), they will not serve God from love of Christ for dying for them (2 Cor. 5:14, 15), but that they will become careless and not try to live Christian lives. That is true with hypocrites; they will profess to believe that they are thus redeemed, saved, and will live careless, worldly lives. But really redeemed men _will_ love most (Luke 7:43), and live better lives from love. The Saviour said, "If a man love me he _will_ keep my words,"--John 14:23; "If God were your father ye _would_ love me."--John 8:42. And John, writing to believers only (1 John 5:13), says: "Behold what manner of love the Father hath bestowed upon us, that we should be called children of God; and such we are. Therefore the world knoweth us not, because it knew him not. Beloved, now are we the children of God, and it doth not yet appear what we shall be; but we know that when he shall appear we shall be like him, for we shall see him as he is. And _every one_ that hath this hope on him purifieth himself, even as he is pure."--1 John 3:1-3. The one who is thus redeemed and adopted as a son of God not only purifies himself because prompted by love to the Saviour for redeeming him from all iniquity, but because he is born again, and this new nature leads him to hate sin and to love holiness. "Whosoever believeth that Jesus is the Christ is born of God."--1 John 5:1. "Being born again, not of corruptible seed, but of incorruptible, by the word of God which liveth and abideth forever."--1 Peter 1:23. This is no mere theory, no mere theological dogma. Cases innumerable throughout the Christian era could be cited, where the most wicked men and women in a moment have been completely changed by simply being led to accept Jesus Christ as their Saviour, as their Redeemer from all iniquity. In the author's work as an evangelist he has seen the most debased, hopeless men and women revolutionized morally, not by gradual processes, but in a moment, by leading them to repentance and faith in the Saviour as their complete Redeemer from all iniquity. And the moral revolution was not temporary, but permanent. Science cannot account for these moral revolutions brought about in a moment. Infidelity cannot account for them. God's word does account for them, that they have been born again, born of God, and have been taken from under the law and have been given a new relation to God and placed under a new motive power. In a city a great mass-meeting for infidels was widely advertised; a large audience assembled. The leader asked all the men in the audience who had once been down in the depths of sin, everything gone, hopeless, and had been led to accept the Saviour as their Redeemer from sin, please to arise. Between three hundred and four hundred well-dressed business men and workingmen arose. The leader then asked all who had been down in the depths of sin, everything gone, hopeless, and they had then been led to believe in infidelity and it had made better men of them, please to arise. One lone man staggered to his feet and he was drunk! Science and infidelity cannot explain this difference. God's word does explain it. There is no other explanation. It may be objected that many who profess to be thus redeemed from all iniquities, to be born again, do not continue to live better lives. God's word explains every one of these cases: "They went out from us, but they were _not of us_; for if they had been of us, they would have continued with us; but they went out that they might be made manifest; because not all are of us."--1 John 2:19. In closing this chapter, reader, pause and consider:--are you yet under the law? Have you been redeemed from the curse of the law? Have you been adopted as a child of God? It is one thing to _say_ "Our Father"; it is quite a different thing to be really a child of God, and heir of God and joint heir with Christ. Is the motive of your life love of Christ because He has redeemed you from all iniquities? Do not be deceived by calling the motive love when really it is not love. If you have been trying to serve God, thinking that if you continued to serve Him, continued to try to do your Christian duty, you would go to Heaven after this life, but that if you failed to serve Him and do your Christian duty, you would not be saved, then your motive has not been love, and you are lost. If you have been trying to serve God and do your Christian duty, fearing that if you failed you would be lost, then your motive has not been love, and you have never been redeemed from all iniquity (Titus 2:14), and adopted as the child of God (Gal. 4:4, 5). Let not pride nor prejudice prevent your coming out from under the law and becoming really a child of God. "My heart's desire and prayer to God for Israel is that they might be saved. For I bear them record that they have a _zeal of God_, but not _according to knowledge_. For being _ignorant of God's righteousness_, and _going about to establish their own righteousness_, they have not submitted themselves unto the righteousness of God. For Christ is _the end of the law for righteousness to every one that believeth._"--Rom. 10:1-4. "As many as _received him_, to them gave he power to become the children of God, even to them that believe on his name."--John 1:12. _FOR FURTHER STUDY_: Men are prone to mix the law and redemption through Christ. They are separate and distinct. They are two separate roads to Heaven. If a man keeps the law from birth to death he will go to Heaven without any redemption; he needs no redemption. "Moses describeth the righteousness which is of the law, that the man that doeth those things shall live _by them_,"--Rom. 10:5; not by Christ as the Redeemer; he needs no redemption. "And the law is not of faith; but the man that doeth them shall live in them."--Gal. 3:12. There is no Christ in this; there is no need of Christ if a man "doeth them," the law. Such a man cannot trust Christ to save him; for if he has never broken the law, there is nothing from which he needs to be redeemed. "The soul that sinneth, _it_ shall die"; but if one has kept the law, there is no penalty, no redemption is needed. "The doers of the law _shall be justified_."--Rom. 2:13. But "all have sinned and come short of the glory of God,"--Rom. 3:23; hence, there is need of redemption; for "apart from shedding of blood there is no remission."--Heb. 9:22. The other road to Heaven, therefore, is that "Christ hath redeemed us from the curse of the law, being made a curse for us."--Gal. 3:13. The Saviour, as well as the Apostle Paul, taught clearly the two roads; the first, when "One came and said unto him, Good Master, what good thing shall I do that I may have eternal life? And he said unto him, Why callest thou me good? There is none good but one, that is God: but if thou wilt enter into life, keep the commandments."--Matt. 19:16, 17. The question was what good thing the enquirer should do in order to have eternal life as the result of what he did. The answer was exactly what Paul taught afterwards,--"The man that doeth them, shall live in them."--Gal. 3:12. On the other hand, to the penitent woman in Simon's house the Saviour said, "Thy faith hath saved thee; go in peace."--Luke 7:50. The trouble is that many men try to make a third road to Heaven, partly by obeying the law and partly by redemption through Christ; or rather, they try to combine the two separate and distinct ways and make them one. But this is fatal. "If by grace, then it is no more of works; otherwise grace is no more grace. But if it is of works, then it is no more grace; otherwise work is no more work."--Rom. 11:6. Jesus said, "Come unto me, all ye that labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest."--Matt. 11:28. And God's word declares plainly, "He that hath entered into his rest himself also hath rested from his own works, as God did from his."--Heb. 4:10. No one has rested, ceased, from his own works who thinks that keeping the law or trying to keep the law is a part of the salvation through Christ as Redeemer. One _must_ cease from his own works, from looking to obeying the law to help in salvation, before he _can_ be saved through Christ as Redeemer. "To him that worketh not, but believeth on him that _justifieth_ the ungodly, his faith is counted for righteousness."--Rom. 4:5. Hence, all who are trying to get to Heaven by obedience, are under the law, are yet unredeemed, unsaved, not real Christians. "As many as are of the works of the law [obeying the law to be saved] are under the curse,"--Gal. 3:10; they have not been really redeemed. Of this class are all those who believe and teach "Salvation by character,"--they are yet under the law; they are yet under the curse.--Gal. 3:10. Further, they fly in the face of the Lord Jesus, who said to men who had character, "The publicans and the harlots go into the kingdom of God before you."--Matt. 21:31. They fail to see that the Saviour takes men without character, justifies them from all things (Acts 13:39), redeems them from the curse of the law (Gal. 3:13), redeems them from all iniquities (Titus 2:14), and then develops in them a character that will stand the test of the ages; that He takes a Jerry McAuley, an S. H. Hadley, a Harry Monroe, and a Melville Trotter and makes of them four of the most useful men of modern times. They fail to see that character is formed by deeds; that the character of the deed can be determined _only_ by the motive prompting the deed; that the controlling motive for the deed must, in the sight of God, be love (1 Cor. 13:1-3); that the motive of love is produced by being forgiven most (Luke 7:42, 43); that the forgiveness comes from the Saviour having given Himself for our sins (Gal. 1:4), to redeem us from all iniquity (Titus 2:14). Because of this failure to consider the motive back of the deed, many books on morals and ethics are absolutely pernicious. In comparing the morals and ethics of Christianity with the morals and ethics of heathen religions, they fail to take into consideration the _motive back of the deed_. Two young men are trying to win a young woman in marriage; their deeds, outwardly, are the same; the one is prompted by pure, manly love for the young woman; the other has his eye on her father's bank account. You drop your handkerchief as you are passing along the street; a man from pure kindness picks it up and hands it to you. Again you drop it, and another picks it up and hands it to you, but his motive is that he may win your confidence and pick your pocket. Four sons are equally dutiful, in outward deed, toward their fathers; one, that he may get all the money he wishes from his father; the second, from a cold sense of duty; the third, from fear that his father might kill him or disinherit him if he were not dutiful; the fourth, from tender love for the father. In these four, many authors see no difference, or make no distinction, and yet they profess to be teachers of morals and ethics! Four men, outwardly, are living the same moral lives; one, hoping to get to Heaven by it; the second, from a cold sense of duty; the third, from fear of Hell; the fourth, from love because One died for him (2 Cor. 5:14, 15), and redeemed him from the curse of the law (Gal. 3:13), from all iniquity (Titus 2:14). Only the last one will ever enter Heaven; only the last one is really a Christian, redeemed (Heb. 9:12), saved (Eph. 2:8). As men are prone to mix law and redemption through Christ, so they are prone to mix law and sonship. They fail to see that redemption from the curse of the law (Gal. 3:13), redemption from all iniquity (Titus 2:14), redemption from under the law (Rom. 6:14), means to be placed in a higher, more sacred relationship to God. Even in nature God has two grades of existence, a lower and a higher, for some insects, even; the mosquito, first in the water; then by a simple process it rises into the higher kingdom; the caterpillar, a creeping worm, then the butterfly. But were there no analogies in nature, God has clearly revealed a higher relation for those who are redeemed from the curse of the law (Gal. 3:13), "God sent forth his Son, born of a woman, born under the law, to redeem them that were under the law, that we might receive the adoption of sons,"--Gal. 4:4, 5; "Having in love predestinated us for adoption as sons through Jesus Christ to himself."--Eph. 1:5. Where is man in the scale of being? "Thou hast made him a little lower than the angels."--Ps. 8:5. But even the angels, who are above man in the scale of being, are not the sons of God. "Unto which of the angels said he at any time, Thou art my son?"--Heb. 1:5. But to _every man_ who has been redeemed from the curse of the law (Gal. 3:13), from under the law (Gal. 4:5), God says, "Ye are _all_ the sons of God through faith in Christ Jesus."--Gal. 3:26. "And because ye are sons, God hath sent forth the spirit of his Son into your hearts crying, Abba, Father."--Gal. 4:6. "Ye have received the spirit of adoption, whereby we cry, Abba, Father."--Rom. 8:15. Much of the confusion concerning the higher relationship of the redeemed with God has been caused by teaching the redeemed and the unredeemed to pray what is called the Lord's Prayer. The Saviour did not teach the unredeemed to pray in this manner. They cannot pray it truthfully, honestly, for they are not the children of God. "They that are the children of the flesh, these are not the children of God."--Rom. 9:5. If they are not, then they cannot truthfully say "Our Father," "Whom the Lord loveth he chasteneth and scourgeth every son whom he receiveth. If ye endure chastening, God dealeth with you as with sons; for what son is he whom the father chasteneth not? But if ye be without chastening, whereof all are partakers, then are ye bastards, and not sons."--Heb. 12:6-8. The language, "bastards and not sons," has some meaning, but it can have no meaning if God is the Father of all human beings, and all have a right to say "Our Father." It is true, that in the Old Testament God is referred to as a Father, but it is only as Father of Israel, the redeemed. "Have we not all one father? Hath not one God created us?"--Mal. 2:10. But who are the "we"? "The burden of the word of the Lord to _Israel_ by Malachi,"--Mal. 1:1;--Israel, God's redeemed people. God's word makes it plain that what is called the Lord's Prayer was not taught by the Saviour to the unsaved. "As he was praying in a certain place, when he ceased, _one of his disciples_ said unto him, Lord, teach _us_ to pray as John also taught his disciples, and he said unto _them_ [His disciples], When ye [His disciples] pray, say, 'Our Father.'" How did they become disciples? "As many as received him, to them gave he power _to become_ the children of God, even to them that believe on his name."--John 1:12. "Ye are all the sons of God by faith in Christ Jesus."--Gal. 3:26. Concerning this prayer the _Southern Baptist Sunday School Teacher_ says, "It is a special gift to believers only." "We cannot too earnestly insist that the Lord's Prayer is beyond the use of mere worldlings. They have no heart for it. It is the possession and badge of the disciples of Christ. It belongs to those who can offer it in humble and hearty faith." The _Sunday School Teacher_, published by the American Baptist Publication Society, says: "This is a prayer that befits only Christian lips and was given to the disciples only, and so it is addressed to 'Our Father.'" D. L. Moody, in "The Way Home," "But who may use this prayer, 'Our Father which art in Heaven'? Examine the context. The disciples when alone with Jesus said, 'Lord, teach us to pray,' and this was the answer they got; they were taught this precious prayer: 'In this manner pray ye: Our Father, which art in Heaven.' It was taught by Jesus to His chosen disciples; then it is only for Christians. No man who is unconverted can or has a right to pray thus. Christ taught _His disciples_, not all men, not the multitude, to pray like this. A man must be born again before he has any right to breathe this prayer. What right has any man living in sin and in open enmity with God, to lift up his voice and say, Our or My Father? It is a lie and nothing else for him to say this." The Saviour was very explicit on this point: "Ye do the deeds of your father. Then said they to him, We are not born of fornication; we have one Father, even God. Jesus said unto them, If God were your Father, ye would love me; for I proceeded forth and came from God; neither came I of myself, but he sent me. Why do ye not understand my speech? Even because ye cannot hear my word. Ye are of your father the devil."--John 8:41-44. Here are the unredeemed calling God their Father. If He is their Father, here was the time for the Great Teacher to make it plain. If He is their Father, _in any sense_, here was the opportunity to make it plain. The Saviour does not reply, "Yes, He is your Father in one sense, but I am speaking of another and a higher sense." His answer is plain and unequivocal. There are those who fly in the face of the Saviour's plain teaching. Hear two of them:--Mrs. Mary Baker G. Eddy, in "Science and Health," "God is the Father of All." "Man is the offspring of Spirit." "Spirit is his primitive and ultimate source of being; God is his Father and Life is the law of his being." "He recognized Spirit, God, as the only creator, and therefore as the Father of all"; "demonstrating God as the Father of men." Another makes his meaning just as plain: "He [Jesus] was the son of God in like manner that every other person is; for _the Creator is the father of all_."--_Thomas Paine, in "The Age of Reason."_ The issue is joined between these two on the one side and the Lord Jesus and Paul on the other, and men are lining up on one side or the other, and many of them will spend eternity with the ones whose teaching they are following _now_, with whom they are lining up; and the reader may as well face the fact that many of them will not spend eternity in the same place with the Saviour and Paul. With many the question as to whether the Saviour, when He said, "Ye are of your father the devil," told the truth, or was a wilful liar and deceiver, or a deluded fanatic and ignoramus, is merely a matter of taste, or preference, or opinion. It may be claimed by some that "Ye are of your father the devil," grates on refined ears and finer sensibilities. But it is more than a question whether it is pride, or religious prejudice, or refined sensibilities, when the sensibilities and feelings are so coarse and hardened that without indignation, often with complacency, they see Him who "spake as never man spake," God's "only begotten Son," branded as a liar and deceiver. Such scholarship and finer sensibilities and such refinement will fill their possessors with horror and remorse in that day when the sun shall become black as sackcloth of hair, and the full moon shall become as blood, and the heavens shall depart as a scroll when it is rolled together; and every mountain and island shall be moved out of their places, and the kings of the earth, and the great men and the rich men and the chief captains and the mighty men and every bondman and every freeman shall hide themselves in the dens and in the rocks of the mountains and say to the mountains and rocks, "Fall on us and hide us from the face of him who sitteth on the throne, and from the wrath of the Lamb; for the great day of his wrath is come, and who shall be able to stand?"--Rev. 6:12-17; "for the Father judgeth no man, but hath committed all judgement unto the Son, that all men should honor the Son, even as they honor the Father. He that honoreth not the Son honoreth not the Father who sent him."--John 5:22, 23. "And he commanded us to preach unto the people, and to testify that it is he who hath been ordained of God to be the judge of living and dead."--Acts 10:42. If all men who are unredeemed would just stop and realize their real position in the scale of being, and that they really have no Heavenly Father, and that "as many as received him to them gave he power to become the children of God, even to them that believe on his name,"--John 1:12, there would fall upon this world such a feeling of orphanage as it has never known since the Saviour hung on the cross. But in their pride or religious prejudice, or love of the world, or secret sin, blinded by "Our Father," they go on through life repeating it, and die, never having been redeemed from the curse of the law (Gal. 3:13), and adopted as God's sons (Gal. 4:4-7). Teaching the unredeemed that God is their Father, and to say "Our Father" is the incubator of religious error and the hot-bed of infidelity. Many religious denominations that are fundamentally in error, that really have no Redeemer, and therefore no Saviour, have as their foundation teaching that God is the Father of the human race; and there is scarcely an infidel but that was taught "Our Father." Teach a person that God is his Father, that his Heavenly Father is far better than his earthly father, and then teach him that his Heavenly Father is going to send him to an eternal Hell, and, if he thinks, he is far on the road to infidelity, or he is ready for some modern church that denies that there is any Hell. It is said that a missionary to one of the heathen lands, after laboring for some time among the people, employed a learned heathen to help him translate the New Testament into the heathen language. The missionary would read and the heathen would translate and write it down. They finally came to the first epistle of John. One morning as they began their work, having finished the second chapter, the missionary read, "Behold what manner of love the Father hath bestowed upon us." The heathen translated and wrote it down. The missionary read, "that we should be called the children of God." The heathen bowed his head upon the table and began weeping. Gaining control of his feelings, he said, "Teacher, don't make me put it that way; I know our people; that is too good for us; we don't deserve it. Put it this way, 'That we may be allowed to kiss his feet,' That is good enough for our people." He had listened to the story of God giving His Son for us; of His life, of His teachings, of His death for our sins; and the thought that, beyond this, God makes the redeemed His children, was too much for him. But in enlightened, so-called Christian lands, many who have never even claimed to have been born of God ridicule the teaching that God is the Father of the redeemed only, and they blatantly proclaim God to be the Father of all human beings, of the drunkard, of the thief, the murderer, whereas, even the angels do not call Him Father. "Unto which of the angels said he at any time, Thou art my son?" But when men are redeemed (Heb. 9:12), and born again of the Spirit (John 3:8; 1 John 5:1), they are really God's children (Gal. 3:26). Then they are above angels in the scale of being, "heirs of God and joint heirs with Christ" (Rom. 8:17),--the highest, most exalted of all beings in the universe. Oh, that men would put their heels upon their pride, be redeemed from the curse of the law (Gal. 3:13), and become God's real children (Gal. 4:4-7). But just as many mix and confuse the teachings as to two roads to Heaven, and as to law and sonship, so they mix and confuse the old motive of fear under the law (Rom. 8:15), and of love as sons. _The new motive of love could be produced in no other way than by real Redemption._ Let the reader give close study to the following principles laid down in Walker's "Philosophy of the Plan of Salvation": "1, The affections of the soul move in view of certain objects or in view of certain qualities believed to exist in those objects. The affections never move, in familiar words, the heart never loves, unless love be produced by seeing, or by believing that we see, some lovely and excellent qualities in the object. When the soul believes those good qualities to be possessed by another, and especially when they are exercised towards us, the affections, like a magnetized needle, tremble with life, and turn towards their object. "2, The affections are not subject to the will; neither our own will nor any other will can directly control them.... An effect could as easily exist without a cause as affection in the bosom of any human being which was not produced by goodness or excellence seen, or believed to exist, in some other being. "3, The affections, although not governed by the will, do themselves greatly influence the will. All acts of will produced entirely by pure affection for another are disinterested.... So soon as the affections move towards an object, the will is proportionally influenced to please and benefit that object, or, if a superior being, to obey his will. "4, All happy obedience must arise from affection. Affectionate obedience blesses the spirit which yields it, if the conscience approve the object loved and obeyed. "5. When the affections of two beings are reciprocally fixed upon each other they constitute a band of union and sympathy peculiarly strong and tender,--those things that affect the one affecting the other in proportion to the strength of affection existing between them. One conforms to the will of the other, not from a sense of obligation merely, but from choice; and the constitution of the soul is such that the sweetest enjoyment of which it is capable rises from the exercise of reciprocal affections. "6. When the circumstances of an individual are such that he is exposed to constant suffering and great danger, the more afflictive his situation the more grateful love will he feel for affection and benefits received under such circumstances. If his circumstances were such that he could not relieve himself, and such that he must suffer greatly or perish, and while in this condition, if another, moved by benevolent regard for him, should come to aid and save him, his affection for his deliverer would be increased by a sense of the danger from which he was rescued. "The greater the kindness and self-denial of a benefactor manifested in our behalf, the warmer and the stronger will be the affection which his goodness will produce in the human heart." And this further statement by Walker will be at once accepted by all honest seekers after truth:-- "Here, then, are two facts growing out of the constitution of human nature. First, the soul must feel its evil and lost state, as the prerequisite condition upon which alone it can love a deliverer; secondly, the degree of kindness and self-denial in a benefactor, temporal or spiritual, graduates the degree of affection and gratitude that will be awakened for him."--_Walker, in "The Philosophy of the Plan of Salvation."_ V THE SINS OF GOD'S CHILDREN--FORGIVENESS--CHASTISEMENTS "Our Father who art in Heaven ... forgive us our sins."--Luke 11:1-4. "If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins."--1 John 1:9. "Ye have forgotten the exhortation which speaketh unto you as unto sons. My son, despise not thou the chastening of the Lord, nor faint when thou art rebuked of him; for whom the Lord loveth he chasteneth, and scourgeth every son whom he receiveth. If ye endure chastening, God dealeth with you as with sons; for what son is he whom the father chasteneth not? But if ye be without chastening, whereof all are partakers, then are ye bastards, and not sons. Furthermore, we have had fathers of our flesh who corrected us, and we gave them reverence; shall we not much rather be in subjection under the Father of spirits and live? For they verily for a few days chastened us as seemed right to them; but he for our profit, that we might be partakers of his holiness."--Heb. 12:5-10. "Also I will make him my firstborn, higher than the kings of the earth. My mercy will I keep for him for evermore, and my covenant shall stand fast with him. His seed also will I make to endure forever, and his throne as the days of heaven. If his children forsake my law and walk not in my judgements; if they break my statutes and keep not my commandments, then will I visit their transgression with the rod and their iniquity with stripes. Nevertheless, my loving-kindness will I not utterly take from him, nor suffer my faithfulness to fail. My covenant will I not break, nor alter the thing that is gone out of my lips. Once have I sworn by my holiness that I will not lie unto David."--Ps. 89:27-35. In coming to the question of God's plan concerning the lives of men redeemed from the curse of the law (Gal. 3:13), redeemed from all iniquity (Titus 2:14), from under the law (Rom. 6:14), and adopted as God's sons (Gal. 4:4-7), let the reader keep in mind that it is not concerning the sins of unredeemed men, whether professing Christians or not. God's plan with the sins of unredeemed men has been shown in Chapter I. Hence it is not a question of the sins of hypocrites, or other professing Christians who are not really God's children. It has been shown in Chapter IV that when men are redeemed from the curse of the law (Gal. 3:13), from all iniquity (Titus 2:14), they are no longer under the law; "Ye are not under the law."--Rom. 6:14. God's word lays down a principle recognized and endorsed by all enlightened nations,--"Sin is not reckoned [imputed] when there is no law."--Rom. 5:13. Those who have been redeemed from under the law are adopted as God's children,--"God sent forth his Son, born of a woman, born under the law, to redeem them that were under the law, that we might receive the adoption of sons."--Gal. 4:4, 5. God thenceforth deals with them as father with children, and not as judge with transgressors of law. Earthly children commit two kinds of sins against their earthly fathers; they sin under temptation and are penitent, and confess their sins and are forgiven. Second, they sin wilfully and are chastised. God's children sin in like manner; they sin under temptation, are penitent, confess their sins and are forgiven. Second, they become backsliders, sin wilfully and are chastised. Let us consider the two classes of sins of God's children and _God's plan with men_ for them. Our Saviour taught His disciples, God's children, to pray "Our Father ... forgive us our sins,"--Luke 11:1-4; Paul and Silas taught the jailer, a man under the law, unredeemed, not a child of God, "Believe on the Lord Jesus, and thou shalt be saved."--Acts 16:31. John taught the believers (1 John 5:13), those who were redeemed from the curse of the law (Gal. 3:13), and were God's children (1 John 3:1, 2), "If we confess our sins he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins,"--1 John 1:9; Paul taught the unredeemed, those who were not God's children, "To him that worketh not, but believeth on him that _justifieth the ungodly_, his faith is counted for righteousness."--Rom. 4:5. Many believe and teach that if any one, the unredeemed man as well as the son of God, confesses his sins, God will be faithful and just to forgive his sins. A Mohammedan, a Jew, a Christian Scientist, a Unitarian, a Universalist, confess their sins,--are they forgiven? To these and all others under the law, God has said, "Apart from shedding of blood there is no remission."--Heb. 9:22. "Till heaven and earth pass, one jot or one tittle shall in no wise pass from the law, till all be fulfilled."--Matt. 5:18. John is writing to believers only (1 John 5:13), to those who are God's children (1 John 3:1, 2), and to _them_ he says, "If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins."--1 John 1:9. Men unredeemed, under the law, can never get rid of their sins by confession. To them God has one message,--"And as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, even so _must_ the Son of man be lifted up, that whosoever believeth on him should not perish, but have eternal life. For God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten Son that whosoever believeth on him should not perish, but have everlasting life."--John 3:14-16. The Saviour taught the _disciples_ to pray, "Our Father, ... forgive us our sins"; but so widespread is the misconception that it applies to all, redeemed and unredeemed, that all over the world vast multitudes of the unredeemed kneel down every night and say, "Our Father, ... forgive us our sins," and lie down to sleep deluded with the thought that they are forgiven. If they are forgiven, why was there any need of Christ dying for our sins (1 Cor. 15:3)? But the real child of God can pray, "Our Father, ... forgive us our sins," and he is really forgiven. Why the difference? With the unredeemed, those yet under the law (Rom. 3:19), God is dealing as judge with violators of law, and law knows no forgiveness. With the redeemed, those who have been adopted as God's children (Gal. 4:4-7), God is dealing as father with son. Let those who are redeemed, who are really God's children, realize the blessed fact that "If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins."--1 John 1:9. But there is another class of sins committed by God's children, "If his children _forsake_ my law" (Ps. 89:30), wilful sins. For these God chastises His children, just as an earthly father chastises his wilful and disobedient children. "Ye have forgotten the exhortation which speaketh unto you as unto sons, My son, despise not thou the chastening of the Lord, nor faint when thou art rebuked of him; for whom the Lord loveth he chasteneth, and scourgeth every son whom he receiveth. If ye endure chastening, God dealeth with you as with sons, for what son is he whom the father chasteneth not? But if ye be without chastening, whereof all are partakers, then are ye bastards and not sons. Furthermore, we have had fathers of our flesh who corrected us, and we gave them reverence; shall we not much rather be in subjection unto the Father of spirits and live? For they verily for a few days chastened us as seemed right to them; but he for our profit, that we might be partakers of his holiness."--Heb. 12:5-10. Chastisement or punishment of God's children is for correction; "for our profit, that we might be partakers of his holiness" (Heb. 12:10); punishment of the unredeemed is to carry out law, for justice: "that he might be _just_" (Rom. 3:26); "every transgression received a _just_ recompense of reward."--Heb. 2:2. The unredeemed, those under the law (Rom. 3:19), are punished beyond this life, in the Day of Judgment,--"verily I say unto you, It shall be more tolerable for the land of Sodom and Gomorrah _in the day of judgment_, than for that city."--Matt. 10:15; God's children receive their chastisements in this life,--"If ye endure chastening, God dealeth with you as with sons."--Heb. 12:7. Professing Christians who are not redeemed, not really God's children, do not receive chastisements; hence, they are punished in the day of judgment with the other unredeemed. "But if ye be without chastening, whereof all are partakers, then are ye bastards and not sons."--Heb. 12:8. He has observed to little purpose who has not noticed that redeemed people, God's children, suffer more in this life than the unredeemed. God says that His children endure chastenings and others who are not His children do not. The difference can be easily seen by any one who will observe closely. The Psalmist observed it and was greatly disturbed by it until he understood the cause of the difference. "Truly God is good to Israel, even to such as are of a clean heart. But as for me, my feet were almost gone; my steps had well nigh slipped. For I was envious at the foolish when I saw the prosperity of the wicked. For there are no bands in their death, but their strength is firm. _They are not in trouble as other men; neither are they plagued like other men._ Therefore pride compasseth them about as a chain; violence covereth them as a garment. Their eyes stand out with fatness, they have more than heart could wish. They are corrupt, and speak wickedly concerning oppression; they speak loftily. They set their mouths against the heavens and their tongue walketh through the earth. Therefore, his people return hither, and waters of a full cup are wrung out to them. And they say, How doth God know? And is there knowledge in the Most High? Behold, these are the ungodly, who prosper in the world; they increase in riches. Verily I have cleansed my heart in vain and washed my hands in innocency. For _all the day long have I been plagued, and chastened every morning_. If I say, I will speak thus: behold, I should offend against the generation of thy children. When I thought to know this, it was too painful for me; _until I went into the sanctuary of God: then understood I their end_. Surely, thou didst set them in slippery places; thou castedst them down into destruction. How are they brought into desolation, as in a moment? They are utterly consumed with terrors. As a dream when one awaketh; so, O Lord, when thou awakest, thou shalt despise their image. For my heart was grieved, and I was pricked in my reins. So foolish was I, and ignorant; I was as a beast before thee. Nevertheless, I am continually with thee; thou hast holden me by my right hand. Thou shalt guide me with thy counsel, and afterward receive me to glory."--Ps. 73:1-24. That chastisement in this life for wilful sins is God's plan with redeemed men, His real children, is clearly revealed even in the Old Testament. God swore by His holiness to David that this would be His plan with redeemed men:--"Also, I will make him my firstborn, higher than the kings of the earth. My mercy will I keep for him forevermore, and my covenant shall stand fast with him. His seed also will I make to endure forever and his throne as the days of Heaven. If his children forsake my law, and walk not in my judgments; if they break my statutes, and keep not my commandments; then will I visit their transgressions with the rod, and their iniquity with stripes. Nevertheless my loving-kindness will I not utterly take from him, nor suffer my faithfulness to fail. My covenant will I not break, nor alter the thing that is gone out of my lips. Once have I sworn by my holiness that I will not lie unto David."--Ps. 89:27-35. David himself was a case in point. After his terrible sin, God sent word to him by the prophet Nathan, "Wherefore hast thou despised the commandment of the Lord, to do evil in his sight? Thou hast killed Uriah the Hittite with the sword and hast taken his wife to be thy wife, and hast slain him with the sword of the children of Ammon. Now therefore the sword shall never depart from thine house."--2 Sam. 12:9, 10. "And David said unto Nathan, I have sinned against the Lord. And Nathan said unto David, The Lord also hath put away thy sin; thou shalt not die."--2 Sam. 12:13. God has but one way of putting away sin. "Apart from shedding of blood is no remission."--Heb. 9:22. "For the life of the flesh is in the blood; and I have given it to you upon the altar to make an atonement for your souls; for it is the blood that maketh an atonement for the soul."--Lev. 17:11. But God does not stop there. "Howbeit because by this deed thou hast given great occasion to the enemies of the Lord to blaspheme, the child also that is born unto thee shall surely die."--1 Sam. 12:14. (Let the reader notice that God, foreseeing that people would ridicule the idea of God saving David, calls it blasphemy and calls those who do it "the enemies of the Lord.") David fasted and prayed for the child. On the seventh day the child died, "But when David saw that his servants whispered, David perceived that the child was dead; therefore David said unto his servants, Is the child dead? And they said, He is dead. Then David arose from the earth and washed and anointed himself, and changed his apparel, and came into the house of the Lord and worshipped: then he came to his own house; and when he required, they set bread before him and he did eat. Then said his servants unto him, What thing is this that thou hast done? Thou didst fast and weep for the child, while it was alive; but when the child was dead, thou didst rise and eat bread. And he said, While the child was yet alive, I fasted and wept: for I said, Who can tell whether God will be gracious to me, that the child may live? But now he is dead, wherefore should I fast? Can I bring him back again? _I shall go to him._"--2 Sam. 12:19-23. How could David be thus sure? He had God's word on which to rest, "The life of the flesh is in the blood, and I have given it upon the altar to make atonement for your souls; for it is the blood that maketh atonement for the soul."--Lev. 17:11. But because of his sin God chastened him as long as he lived. "Now therefore the sword shall never depart from thine house." Solomon is another case in point. Concerning Solomon God said to David, "I will be his father and he shall be my son. If he commit iniquity, I will chastise him with the rod of men, and with the stripes of the children of men; but my mercy shall not depart away from him."--2 Sam. 7:14, 15. In chastening, God uses as a rod loss of loved ones (2 Sam. 12:14; Amos 4:10), loss of property (Amos 4:6-9), loss of health (1 Cor. 11:30), death (1 Cor. 11:30; Amos 4:11; Deut. 32:48-52). Consider the case of Moses and Aaron: God told them to speak to the rock that it might bring forth water for the children of Israel. But they wilfully disobeyed, and instead of speaking to the rock, struck it in anger. For this wilful sin, as a chastisement, God said to Moses, "Get thee up into this mountain Abarim, unto Mt. Nebo, which is in the land of Moab, that is over against Jericho; and behold the land of Canaan, which I give unto the children of Israel for a possession: and die in the mount whither thou goest up, and be gathered unto thy people; as Aaron thy brother died in Mt. Hor, and was gathered unto his people: _because ye trespassed against me_ among the children of Israel at the waters of Meribah Kadesh, in the wilderness of Zin."--Deut. 32:49-52. Though Moses was thus severely chastened for his wilful sin, he was not lost, for he was with Elijah on the mountain at the transfiguration of the Saviour (Matt. 17:1-3). The lesson needs to be learned by God's children that as certainly as a redeemed man sins wilfully, whether the sin be great or small, the chastening rod is sure to fall. "If his children _forsake my law ... then will_ I visit their transgressions with the rod and their iniquity with stripes."--Ps. 89:30-32. But God does not send the chastening in wrath, nor in justice. "Whom the Lord _loveth_ he chasteneth and scourgeth every son whom he receiveth."--Heb. 12:6. There are many who profess to be redeemed, to be God's children, professed Christians, church members, who sin wilfully, and God never sends chastisements to them; but God explains about them, "But if ye be without chastening, whereof all are partakers, then are ye bastards, and not sons."--Heb. 12:8. He does not chasten this class; in Hell they will receive their punishment, but it will be just. God will treat no human being wrong. With some it may seem severe that God should chasten and scourge His children. That is not as severe as to send them to Hell for their wilful disobedience after they become His children, and that is the belief of many. There are but three plans that God could have for those who have been redeemed from the curse of law (Gal. 3:13) and adopted as His children (Gal. 4:4-7), and afterward sin wilfully:-- First, beyond this life punish them in the judgment (Matt. 10:15) for their sins, send them to Hell. That would mean, (1) if Christ redeemed them from _all_ iniquity (Titus 2:14), that God would force the same debt to be paid twice. "Shall not the judge of all the earth do right?" (2) That would mean that God would punish, by law, those who have been redeemed from the curse of the law (Gal. 3:13), and who are not under the law (Rom. 6:14), and would violate God's own principle, "Sin is not reckoned [imputed] when there is no law" (Rom. 5:13). (3) That would mean a child of God, redeemed and adopted (Gal. 4:4-7), and born again (1 Peter 1:23), born of the Holy Spirit (John 3:8), sent to Hell. (4) That would mean to make the Saviour unreliable and untruthful in His statements. "Many will say unto me in that day, Lord, Lord, have we not prophesied in thy name? and in thy name have cast out demons? and in thy name done many wonderful works? And then will I profess unto them, I _never_ knew you."--Matt. 7:22, 23. These are the professing Christians at the judgment who are lost, and Jesus says, "I never knew you," that not one of them was ever really redeemed and adopted as a child of God. (5) It would mean for God to violate His own oath (Ps. 89: 27-35). Second, the second plan possible to God in dealing with those who sin wilfully after they have been redeemed from all iniquity (Titus 2:14), from the curse of the law (Gal. 3:13), and adopted as God's children (Gal. 4:4-7), would be to let them continue to sin wilfully, and neither punish them beyond this life, at the judgment, in Hell, nor chastise them in this life. That would mean for some of them to eventually develop characters most fearfully warped by sin. Third, there is but one other possible plan left for God with redeemed men, redeemed from the law and adopted as His children (Gal. 4:7), who sin wilfully; and that is to chasten, chastise them in this life. That is God's plan with the redeemed, His own children; and however severe the chastening, He does it in love. In love He planned to adopt us as His children. "Having _in love_ predestinated us for the adoption as sons through Jesus Christ to himself."--Eph. 1:5 (1911 Bible), and in love He chastises. "Whom the Lord _loveth_, he chasteneth and scourgeth every son whom he receiveth."--Heb. 12:6. Reader, the issue is before you: shall you remain under the law (Rom. 3:19) to be punished justly in the judgment (Matt. 11:22-24) and to continue to sin in Hell (Rev. 22:11, R. V.), or will you accept redemption through Christ the Saviour from the curse of the law (Gal. 3:13), be adopted as a child of God forever (Gal. 4:4-7), to be forgiven when you sin against your Father in Heaven and confess your sin (1 John 1:9); to be chastened when you sin wilfully (Ps. 89:27-34), and to spend eternity in Heaven with Him who loved you and gave Himself for you (John 14:1-3; Gal. 2:20), free forever from sin (Rev. 21:24-27; Rev. 22:3)? You do not intend, reader, to be wrapped in a Christless shroud, to be laid away in a Christless grave, to spend eternity in a Christless Hell. Decide _now_. _FOR FURTHER STUDY_:--The teaching that God interposes in human affairs to chastise His disobedient children (Heb. 12:5-8; Ps. 89:27-34), to chasten with the rod of the children of men (2 Sam. 7:14, 15; 1 Cor. 11:30), will frighten, or arouse the contempt of, "the modern mind" with its self-inflated wisdom, which _just knows_ that "the laws of nature are immutable laws." Is there a being called "Nature" who made these laws? Who revealed to "the modern mind" that these laws were immutable? Where did "the modern mind" get its authority (it takes for granted that it has the power) to drive God from His universe, or to make Him powerless, or inactive? Can "the modern mind" prove absolutely that because God's law of gravitation causes objects to fall toward the earth, He has no right and no power to make Elijah's body go up instead of down (2 Kings 2:11)? Does "the modern mind" absolutely know that God is now inactive and must remain inactive? "Dr. Mason Goode observes that worlds and systems of worlds are perpetually disappearing, that within the period of the last century no less than thirteen in different constellations seem to have perished and _ten new ones have been created_."--_"Origin of the Globe."_ If God is active out in space, who shall deny Him the right or the power to be active on this planet? And if active on this planet at all, then in the individual lives of His children? And in His word, backed up by fulfilled prophecies, to prove that He _is_ dealing with us, He tells us that He is. Is "the modern mind" too scholarly, too self-opinionated, to consider the following words from Prof. James Orr in his "The Resurrection of Jesus" ("the modern mind" is very careful not to attempt a thorough reply to Professor Orr's "Problem of the Old Testament," nor his "Resurrection of Jesus"--for obvious reasons)? "The question is not, Do natural causes operate uniformly? But _are natural causes the only causes that exist or operate_? For miracle, as has frequently been pointed out, is precisely the assertion of the interposition of a _new_ cause; one, besides, which the theist must admit to be a _vera causa_." If when we become God's children, we are no longer under the law (Rom. 6:14), we are redeemed from all iniquity (Titus 2:14), we are no more servants but sons (Gal. 4:7), the question arises, why pray to Our Father in Heaven to be forgiven? The child does not ask his father's forgiveness in order to be his child, but to have the disturbed fellowship restored. The unforgiven child is still a child, but will be chastened. It is fellowship of the Heavenly Father with the child that is restored by forgiveness, and is sought in forgiveness, and not a destroyed relationship. On this point hear James Denny in his "The Death of Christ": "Christ died for sins once for all, and the man who believes in Christ and in His death has his relations to God once for all determined not by sin but by the Atonement. The sin for which a Christian has daily to seek forgiveness is not sin which annuls his acceptance with God." There needs to be kept in mind, in considering that God chastens His children, the distinction that while chastenings are sufferings, all sufferings are not chastisements. The expression, "whom the Lord loveth he chasteneth" (Heb. 12:6), has been widely misused and sadly misapplied. Because David's babe was taken from him as a chastisement (2 Sam. 12:14), many thoughtlessly conclude that every babe's death is meant for a chastisement for the father and mother; and many apply "Whom the Lord loveth he chasteneth" to all of the sorrows and sufferings of God's children. But there is another purpose accomplished by some sufferings, in "that the trial of your faith being much more precious than of gold that perisheth, though it be tried with fire, might be found unto praise and honor and glory at the appearing of Jesus Christ."--1 Peter 1:7. "And he shall sit as a purifier and refiner of silver."--Matt. 3:3. The silver is not to blame for the dross; nevertheless, it needs to be burned out. A child stole a piece of bread; the father chastised the child for it. That chastening was suffering. But the same child was born a cripple. In straightening the foot, the father forced many weeks of fearful suffering on the child, but the suffering was not chastisement. Chastisements are sufferings of God's children for wrongdoing to correct them; but there are sufferings that are not chastisements for wrongdoing, but are to take out of us defects, or to develop us. Hence, to say to some one who is suffering from sorrow or affliction, "Whom the Lord loveth he chasteneth," is often cruel and untrue. VI REWARDS--DEGREES IN HEAVEN "I give unto them eternal life and they shall never perish."--John 10:28.--"Lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven."--Matt. 6:20. "By grace have ye been saved through faith; and that not of yourselves; it is the gift of God; not of works, lest any one should boast."--Eph. 2:8, 9.--"Each man shall receive his own reward _according to his own labor_."--1 Cor. 3:8. "Other foundation can no man lay than that is laid, which is Jesus Christ. Now if any man build upon this foundation gold, silver, costly stones, wood, hay, stubble; every man's work shall be made manifest: for the day shall declare it, because it shall be revealed by fire; and the fire shall try every man's work of what sort it is. If any man's work abide which he hath built thereupon, he shall receive a reward. If any man's work shall be burned, he shall suffer loss, but he himself shall be saved, yet so as through fire."--1 Cor. 3:11-15. "But God said unto him, Thou fool, this night thy soul shall be required of thee; then whose shall those things be, which thou hast provided? So is he that layeth up treasure for himself and is not _rich_ toward God."--Luke 12:20, 21. "Whosoever would save his life shall lose _it_; and whosoever shall lose his life for my sake shall find _it_. For what shall a man be profited if he shall gain the whole world and forfeit his life, or what shall a man give in exchange for his life? For the Son of man shall come in the glory of his Father, with his angels, and then shall he render unto every man _according to his deeds_."--Matt. 16:25-27 (R. V.) "Behold, I come quickly; and my reward is with me, to give each one _according as his work shall be_."--Rev. 22:12. The teaching of God's word of degrees in future punishment ("These shall receive greater condemnation,"--Mark 12:40) according to heredity and environment ("It shall be more tolerable for Tyre and Sidon at the day of judgment than for you;" "it shall be more tolerable for the land of Sodom in the day of judgment than for thee,"--Matt. 11:22, 24), and according to sin ("Every transgression and disobedience received a just recompense of reward,"--Heb. 2:2), commends itself to the judgment, to the conscience, of every honest man. The companion teaching to this in God's word is that there will be different degrees, or rewards, in Heaven. Just as the degree of man's punishment in Hell will be determined by his life here; so the degree of a man's reward in Heaven will be determined by his life here. The dividing line is redemption. With many, salvation and rewards mean the same thing, but the Saviour made a clear distinction. "I give unto them eternal life, and they shall never perish."--John 10:28 ("He that believeth on me hath everlasting life."--John 6:47);--"Lay up for yourselves treasures in Heaven."--Matt. 6:20. Our salvation is a gift and depends upon the Saviour; our treasures in Heaven must be laid up by ourselves. Paul makes the distinction equally clear. "By grace have ye been saved through faith; and that not of yourselves; it is the gift of God; not of works, lest any man should boast."--Eph. 2:8, 9 (R. V.).--"Each man shall receive his own reward according to his own labor."--1 Cor. 3:8. But by rewards for service God's word does not mean God's blessings on the faithful Christians in this life. It means rewards beyond this life. Jesus said, "When thou makest a dinner or a supper call not thy friends, nor thy brethren, neither thy kinsmen nor thy rich neighbors, lest they also bid thee again, and a recompense be made thee. But when thou makest a feast, call the poor, the maimed, the lame, the blind; and thou shalt be blessed; for they cannot recompense thee, for thou shalt be recompensed _at the resurrection of the just_."--Luke 14:12-14. If "each man shall receive his own reward according to his own labor" (1 Cor. 3:8), there will, then, be different rewards or degrees in Heaven; for doubtless no two redeemed people ever served God in exactly the same degree of faithfulness. Paul makes this distinction clear, as well as the difference between salvation and rewards. He uses the illustration of building houses out of different material. He has been speaking of preachers and their work, and then seems to turn and apply his teaching to every one, for he says, "Let every man take heed how he buildeth thereupon."--1 Cor. 3:10. Whether he is speaking only of preachers and their work, or applies it to every man; whether he is speaking of building in the lives of others by what we teach or do, or whether he makes a turn and applies it to every man and his building in his own life, he draws the clear distinction between the foundation on which the building rests and the building built thereupon, between salvation alone through Christ, and rewards for service: "For other foundation can no man lay than that is laid, which is Jesus Christ. Now, if any man build upon this foundation gold, silver, costly stones, wood, hay, stubble; every man's work shall be made manifest; for the day shall declare it; because it shall be revealed by fire; and the fire shall try every man's work of what sort it is. If any man's work abide which he hath built thereupon, he shall receive a reward. If any man's work shall be burned he shall suffer loss, but he himself shall be saved, yet so as through fire."--1 Cor. 3:11-15. Why is he saved? Because he has been redeemed from the curse of the law, Christ having been made a curse for him (Gal. 3:13); because he has been redeemed from all iniquity (Titus 2:14); because he has been redeemed from under the law (Rom. 6:14); and God means His promise, "Believe on the Lord Jesus and thou shalt be saved" (Acts 16:31), and he means the promise of the Saviour, "Verily, verily I say unto you, he that heareth my word and believeth on him that sent me hath everlasting life and shall not come into condemnation; but is passed from death unto life." But when the redeemed man's works shall be burned, though he himself shall be saved (1 Cor. 3:15), he shall suffer loss (1 Cor. 3:15), and the loss shall be irreparable, eternal, and so great that no human being in this age can fully realize it. Here the old translation, the King James' version, has misled us. The oft-quoted sentence, "What is a man profited if he shall gain the whole world and lose his soul? or what shall a man give in exchange for his soul?" is a mistranslation. The Revised Version translates it correctly: "What shall a man be profited, if he shall gain the whole world and forfeit his life, or what shall a man give in exchange for his life?"--Matt. 16:26. By noticing verse 25, and verse 27 the reader can see what the Saviour meant: "whosoever would save his life shall lose _it_," not his soul, but his life, "and whosoever shall lose his life for my sake shall find _it_," his life not his soul; "whosoever shall lose his life for my sake,"--men do lose their lives for His sake, but no one loses his soul for the Saviour's sake. Following immediately He says, verse 26, "For what shall a man be profited, if he shall gain the whole world and forfeit his life? or what shall a man give in exchange for his life?" In verse 27 the Saviour makes plain how a man who would save his life, loses it, and how the one who shall lose his life for the Saviour's sake shall find it,--in the rewards that he loses by trying to save his life, or gains by losing his life for the Saviour's sake, "For the Son of man shall come in the glory of his Father with his angels; and then shall he render unto every man according to his deeds." What deeds? Deeds of losing his life for the Saviour's sake. For all eternity he will have no reward for the life he lived here--he has lost his life. Now, the Saviour says that if a man "shall gain the whole world," and in doing so shall "forfeit his life,"--shall have no reward in eternity as a result of his life (the principle laid down by Paul, whether of preachers or of all, "if any man's work shall be burned he shall suffer loss, but he himself shall be saved."--1 Cor. 3:15), he has made a fearful mistake. But if the one who "shall gain the whole world" and in doing so "shall forfeit his life," shall have no reward for it, makes a fearful mistake, how much greater mistake does the one make who forfeits his life to have no reward throughout eternity, in order to gain a very small part of the world, as so many are doing? But if the one who "shall forfeit his life,"--have no reward in eternity,--in order to gain but a very small part of the world, makes such a fearful, such a great mistake, far worse is the bargain made by the unredeemed man who loses not only his life but also loses his soul in order to gain a very small part of "the whole world"; and yet this is what the vast majority of men are doing. We cannot grasp it, we cannot realize it, but Jesus says that the rewards (not salvation--1 Cor. 3:15) that men are losing are more than "the whole world." Another teaching of the Saviour along this line has been widely misapplied: "He spake a parable unto them, saying, The ground of a certain rich man brought forth plentifully; and he thought within himself, saying, What shall I do, because I have no room where to bestow my fruits? And he said, This will I do: I will pull down my barns, and build greater; and there will I bestow all my fruits and my goods, and I will say to my soul, Soul, thou hast much goods laid up for many years, take thine ease, eat, drink, and be merry. But God said unto him, Thou fool, this night thy soul shall be required of thee; then whose shall those things be, which thou hast provided?"--Luke 12:16-20. At once many rush to the conclusion that he was lost, that he went to Hell; and they proceed to warn men against laying up treasures in this life and losing their souls. But God said, "This night thy soul shall be required of thee," not "this night thy soul shall go to Hell." Let the Saviour make His own application: "So is he that layeth up treasures for himself and _is not rich toward God_."--Luke 12:21. "If any man's work abide which he hath built thereupon he shall receive a reward" (1 Cor. 3:14), he is rich toward God; "if any man's work shall be burned he shall suffer loss" (1 Cor. 3:15), he is a fool; he spent a life here on earth and has no reward in eternity as a result of it;--"but he himself shall be saved, yet so as through fire."--1 Cor. 3:15. (If in the passage 1 Cor. 3:11-15, Paul is speaking only of preachers and their work in building on the foundation of Christ in the lives of others by their teaching, he yet shows that some whose work abides will be rewarded, and that others whose work shall be burned shall suffer loss and yet shall be saved; so that the principle applies with all Christians). Two cases in point:-- A great American statesman was told by his physician that in a few days he must die. That afternoon a minister called to see the dying statesman and asked as to his hope beyond the grave. The dying statesman replied, "Mr. Blank, I am going to Heaven when I die." The minister asked the dying man on what he based his hope. He replied: "Mr. Blank, I am ashamed to say that I am a Christian; but now that the time has come, I must not deny my Saviour. When I am dead tell your people that days before I died, when my mind was calm and clear, I gave my dying testimony that I was going to Heaven, redeemed by the blood of Christ." The minister pressed the question, why he thought he was a Christian. The statesman said to the negro man who was nursing him, "Jack, go into my library and bring me my Bible." Turning to the minister he said, "Mr. Blank, as I said to you, I am ashamed to say that I am a Christian, but now that the time has come, I must not deny my Saviour. Long years ago, back in the old red hills of Georgia, when I was a young man, one Sunday in an old country church I heard a Baptist preacher preach, and I understood him. He showed that God honestly loves this world, that Jesus Christ, God's Son, died for our sins, and that He died for all of our sins; and that every one who would repent and trust Christ to save him was certain to go to Heaven. Out there in that old country church in the red hills of Georgia I accepted Jesus Christ as my Redeemer and Saviour that Sunday morning, and trusted Him to save me. I came west and became overwhelmed in business and politics. I have wasted my life." Just then the negro man returned and handed the Bible to the dying statesman. He turned the leaves and finally stopped, and turning to the minister he said, "Mr. Blank, I am ashamed to say it, but I don't know much about this book; but I do know that this is God's word; and I do know that out in the old country church in the red hills of Georgia that Sunday morning, when I heard and understood the country preacher, I did, as a guilty, lost, justly condemned sinner, accept Jesus Christ as my Saviour and Redeemer and trust Him to save me. Listen, Mr. Blank: 'He that believeth on the Son hath everlasting life.' Mr. Blank, God says I have everlasting life, and I am going to Heaven when I die." And turning, the great statesman buried his face in his pillow and sobbed out his grief and remorse. He did go to Heaven, "but God said unto him, Thou fool ... so is he that layeth up treasures for himself and is not rich toward God."--Luke 12:20, 21. The second case in point:-- A rich banker in the West a few weeks before Christmas sent a check for three hundred and fifty dollars to his brother in the East, a poor country preacher, telling him to come and bring all of his family and spend Christmas with him. They had not seen each other since boyhood. The preacher and family arrived Christmas eve morning. That afternoon in carriages the two families drove over the banker's beautiful farm of a thousand acres of rich land. Coming in late in the afternoon, they came by the pasture and saw the beautiful herd of blooded cattle. After a sumptuous supper the banker's daughters gave them some splendid music and the two families went upstairs to sleep. The two white-haired brothers, the banker and the poor country preacher, remained downstairs, and for hours talked of boyhood days in the old country home in the East. At last the conversation, like the fire in the fireplace, had about died out. Finally the banker turned and said, "Brother John, may I say something to you and you not get angry?" Said the preacher, "Why, brother James, you can say anything you wish to me and I will not get angry." Said the banker, "Brother John, you and I were poor boys back in the old country home in the East and we agreed to be partners for life. One day you came to me and told me that you were called to preach. I told you then that you were a fool. What a fool you have been! Do you remember that rich farm of a thousand acres you saw this afternoon? Paid for with honest money, John. This comfortable home for my old age, paid for with honest money, John. The fifty thousand dollars I have in the bank in the city where I am president of the bank, every dollar of it honest money, John. John, you could have had as much as I have. What a fool you have been! Why, I had to send you the three hundred and fifty dollars to bring you and your family that I might see them before I die. And look at your daughters; they are dressed in such a shabby way that I am ashamed for my neighbors to see my children's cousins. And look at you with your old seedy, worn suit and your patched shoes; I am ashamed to take you to town day after to-morrow and introduce you to my business associates. What a fool you have been! Now, John, I am not saying this to wound your feelings; for I love you, John. But I don't want you to let any of your boys be such fools as you have been. You know you have been a fool, John." Then there was silence for some time. The tears were trickling down the cheeks of the old country preacher. At last he broke the silence, "Brother James, may I say something to you and you not get angry?" "Why, certainly, John, I did not say what I did to make you angry, but to keep you from letting any of your boys be such fools as you have been, for you know you have been a fool, John." "I know," replied the old preacher, "that it looks like I have been a fool from this end of the line, brother James. But, brother James, we are both old men and we must soon go. Don't be angry with me, brother James, but what have you got up yonder?" Again there was silence, which was suddenly broken by the banker sobbing, "Oh, John, I am a pauper at the judgment bar of God." "So is he that layeth up treasures for himself and is not rich toward God." They are dying all over the world, men who are redeemed, going to Heaven, but paupers. "If any man's work shall be burned, he shall suffer loss, but he himself shall be saved, yet so as through fire,"--1 Cor. 3:15. But far better be a pauper, and saved without any reward, than be a rich man in Hell (Luke 16:22, 23): for they are dying all over the world who not only lived for this life, but from pride, or religious prejudice, or love of the world, or secret sin, would not repent and be redeemed from the curse of the law (Gal. 3:13) and be saved (Acts 16:31). With this teaching, that there are rewards in Heaven, there is another most helpful teaching and blessed fact, that the poorest, most ignorant and obscure can have just as great rewards as the richest, most learned, most applauded. "Each man shall receive his own reward _according to his own labor_,"--1 Cor. 3:8, not according to what he accomplishes. "Behold, I come quickly; and my reward is with me, to give each one _according as his work shall be_,"--Rev. 22:12; not according as his success shall be. "And Jesus sat over against the treasury, and beheld how the people cast money into the treasury; and many that were rich cast in much. And there came a certain poor widow, and she threw in two mites, which make a farthing. And he called unto him his disciples, and saith unto them, Verily I say unto you, That this poor widow hath cast in more than all they that have cast into the treasury."--Mark 12:41-43. The wealthy, the mighty, the renowned who serve faithfully after they were redeemed from the curse of the law (Gal. 3:13), from all iniquity (Titus 2:14), shall receive their reward. But the poor, the weak, the obscure who serve faithfully after they are redeemed shall receive equally as great rewards; and if they have been more faithful, however small their sphere, they shall receive even greater rewards. "Two mites that make a farthing," but it was all she could do; "Verily I say unto you that this poor widow hath cast in more than all they that have cast into the treasury."--Mark 12:42, 43. In an American city, one morning a man apparently sixty or seventy years of age, dressed as a plain business man, walked into the dining-room of one of the leading hotels and sat down to breakfast. Some men at the adjoining table were talking of a sad case of suffering, as reported in the morning paper; a poor widow with five children was very sick, who had, since her husband's death a few years before, struggled and made a living for herself and children; but now, having been down sick for some time, everything was gone and they were suffering. The stranger listened to the sad story; and, having finished breakfast, he called a newsboy and bought a paper. The account gave the street address of the poor widow. He went to the street address, a street of poor cottages, and, knocking at the door, was led into the sick room by a child. He saw the condition of affairs and heard the widow's story. Sitting by the bedside, he talked in a fatherly, cheerful way and tried to encourage the poor widow; and quietly slipping something under the pillow, as he was talking, he told the widow to use that as she needed it. Then taking out a little book from his pocket, he wrote something and tore the paper out of the little book and slipped the paper under a book and told the widow to use that when she needed it. Then calling down God's blessings upon the widow and her fatherless children, he bade them good-bye. As the door closed, the widow slipped her hand under the pillow and drew out a roll of money, to her a large sum. Then she reached for the piece of paper under the book on the table. There was a check for a goodly sum, signed by one of America's Christian millionaires. The glow in his soul as he walked away from the widow's cottage was not the only reward--"thou shalt be _recompensed at the resurrection of the just_."--Luke 14:14. But the following Sunday a poor widow working in a sweatshop to make a living for her fatherless children, listened to an appeal for foreign missions, to get the gospel to those who have never heard, and she threw in ten cents, all she could give, "two mites that make a farthing."--"Verily I say unto you, That this poor widow hath cast in more than all they that have cast into the treasury."--Mark 12:42, 43. All over the world, by the multiplied millions, there are graves where lie sleeping the bodies of those who, down the ages, because they were redeemed, gave their lives in service. They went down to their graves, their praises unsung by the world. Many of them went down to their graves, never realizing that there were rewards for them; simply rejoicing in their salvation through Him who loved them and gave Himself for them (Gal. 2:20). "The desert rose, though never seen by man; Is nurtured with a care divinely good; The ocean pearl, though 'neath the rolling main, Is ever brilliant in the eyes of God. "Think not thy worth and work are all unknown Because no partial pensman paint thy praise; Man may not see nor care, but God will own Thy worth and work; thy thoughts and deeds and ways." Riding along a lonely country road one Sunday afternoon, many years ago, returning from a country church, a young preacher was talking to his companion, a young man eighteen years of age, telling him of God's love and of _God's plan with men_. The conversation had ended, and for some minutes they had been riding along in silence, when suddenly the young man spurred his horse up to the young preacher's horse, and seizing the reins, stopped both horses. Dropping the reins, he threw both arms around the preacher's neck, and as he began sobbing said, "Oh, R----, how good God is!" How little men consider God's goodness. How good God is to have ever brought us into being! How good God is, though we have all sinned against Him (Rom. 3:23), "that he might be just and the justifier of him that hath faith in Jesus" (Rom. 3:26), to have provided complete redemption for us from all iniquity (Titus 2:14)! How good God is to have "in love predestinated us for adoption as sons through Jesus Christ to himself"!--Eph. 1:5. How good God is to chastise us in love (Heb. 12:5, 6) instead of punishing us in Hell for our sins after we become His children (Ps. 89:27-34)! How good God is to place us where we will serve Him from love, and not from fear of punishment (2 Cor. 5:14, 15)! How good God is, in addition to our salvation, to provide rewards in Heaven for the services we render here (Matt. 6:20)! How good God is to provide that the poor, the ignorant, the obscure, can have just as great rewards as the more fortunate ones (Mark 1:41, 42)! How good God is to say, "if any man's work shall be burned, he shall suffer loss, but he himself shall be saved, yet so as through fire"!--1 Cor. 3:15. _FOR FURTHER STUDY_:--The objection that the teaching of rewards in Heaven makes Christianity too matter-of-fact is not well taken. Punishments or rewards last through all eternity; with the unredeemed, in added degrees to the punishment in Hell; with the redeemed, in added rewards in Heaven. And they need to realize that with both classes this applies to the smallest deeds: "But I say unto you, That every idle word that men shall speak, they shall give an account thereof in the day of judgment."--Matt. 12:36. "And whosoever shall give to drink unto one of these little ones a cup of cold water only in the name of a disciple, verily I say unto you, he shall in no wise lose his reward."--Matt. 10:42. Neither is the objection well taken that to teach men to aim to have rewards in Heaven is appealing to an unworthy motive. Jesus taught it (Matt. 6:20), Paul taught it (1 Cor. 3:11-15), Moses endorsed it (Heb. 11:26), and the objector himself prays for God's blessings here in this life. Nor is the objection well founded, that for people to aim to have rewards will destroy the motive of love. Rather, it adds to the motive of love. A father gives his son, yet not of age, a fine farm. That arouses the boy's love. The father tells the boy that, though not of age, he may have the full reward of his labor on the farm, beginning at once. This does not destroy the motive of love. So, the Saviour, having died for our sins (1 Cor. 15:3), and given us eternal life (John 10:28, 29), arouses our love; to give us the privilege of having rewards in addition to salvation (Matt. 6:20), does not destroy our love, but increases it. There is one limitation God's word makes to our deeds being rewarded: "Take heed that ye do not your righteousness before men to be seen of them: else ye have no reward with your Father who is in Heaven. When therefore thou doest alms, sound not a trumpet before thee, as the hypocrites do in the synagogues and in the streets, that they may have glory of men. Verily I say unto you, they have received their reward. But when thou doest alms let not thy left hand know what thy right hand doeth; that thine alms may be in secret; and thy Father who seeth in secret shall recompense thee."--Matt. 6:1-4. If a redeemed man does his righteous deeds in order to get glory as reward here, he gets it, but none in Heaven,--the wrong motive prevents his receiving rewards in Heaven. _God rewards according to the motive._ There seems to be one other limitation to receiving rewards in Heaven for the deeds of this life: "Whosoever therefore shall break one of these least commandments, and shall teach men so, he shall be called the least in the kingdom of Heaven; but whosoever shall do and teach them the same shall be called great in the kingdom of Heaven."--Matt. 5:19. The teaching seems to be that for one to deliberately break even the least commandment, while he will be saved ("The least _in the kingdom of Heaven_") yet he will have no reward ("_The least_ in the kingdom of Heaven"). There is one passage of Scripture that some have thought contradicts the teaching of different rewards in Heaven: "The kingdom of Heaven is like unto a man, an householder, who went out early in the morning to hire laborers into his vineyard. And when he had agreed with the laborers for a penny a day, he sent them into his vineyard. And he went out about the third hour, and saw others standing idle in the market place, and said unto them, Go ye also into the vineyard and whatsoever is right I will give you, and they went their way. Again he went out about the sixth hour and the ninth hour, and did likewise. And about the eleventh hour he went out, and found others standing idle, and saith unto them, Why stand ye here all the day idle? They say unto him, Because no man hath hired us. He saith unto them, Go ye also into the vineyard; and whatsoever is right, that shall ye receive. So when even was come, the lord of the vineyard saith unto his steward, Call the laborers, and give them their hire, beginning from the last unto the first. And when they came that were hired about the eleventh hour, they received every man a penny. But when the first came, they supposed that they should have received more, and they likewise received every man a penny. And when they had received it, they murmured against the goodman of the house, saying, These last have wrought but one hour, and thou hast made them equal unto us, who have borne the burden and heat of the day. But he answered one of them and said, Friend, I do thee no wrong; didst not thou agree with me for a penny? Take that thine is and go thy way; _I will give unto this last even as unto thee_."--Matt. 20:1-14. From this the conclusion is drawn that there are no different rewards in Heaven; that all are rewarded alike. But not only does God's word elsewhere teach different rewards in Heaven, but the Saviour made His teaching on this point very plain. In the parable of the pounds, the servant who with one pound gained ten pounds is rewarded with authority over ten cities. But the one who with one pound gained only five pounds is rewarded with only five cities (Luke 19:16-19). This shows clearly a difference in rewards. If, now, this passage in Matthew teaches no difference in rewards, then we have a positive contradiction. But consider the two parables: the parable of the pounds is where men have the same opportunity, each one a pound; then they are rewarded according to what they accomplish. The parable of the vineyard is where the laborers work different lengths of time; in the morning, boys and girls, six, eight, ten, twelve years of age, becoming Christians and going into the vineyard; the third hour, young people, fifteen, eighteen, twenty years of age, becoming Christians and going into the vineyard; the sixth hour, young men and young women, twenty-five, thirty, thirty-five years of age, becoming Christians and going into the vineyard; the ninth hour, men and women past middle life, forty, forty-five, fifty years of age, becoming Christians and going into the vineyard; the eleventh hour, old men and women, sixty, seventy, eighty years of age, becoming Christians and going into the vineyard. But does the Saviour mean all old men and women who become Christians in old age and begin working in the vineyard? No, for He limits it to those in old age who can say, "_No man hath hired us_." Then the Saviour means by the eleventh hour laborers in the parable those who in old age had never before had the opportunity of going into the vineyard; who had never before heard or understood the way to be saved, and enter God's service. With these, the Saviour reserves the sovereign right to give them just as great rewards as though they had entered the vineyard "early in the morning"; not that those who "have borne the burden and heat of the day" shall receive less, but that those who did not have the opportunity of entering the vineyard sooner, shall not lose because of it. Some one may think that there are no old men and women who do not know the way to be saved and enter the vineyard. Even in professedly Christian lands there are many old men and women who, because of wrong religious teaching, have never seen the real way to be saved; and in China and Africa there are vast numbers who can say, "No man hath hired us." To take a case: a mere child becomes a Christian and serves in the vineyard for seventy years; an old Chinaman eighty years of age hears the gospel for the first time, and becomes a Christian and works in the vineyard only one year and dies. He will receive as great a reward as the one who served God seventy years. Apply this principle to the redeemed who died in early life: if those who entered at the eleventh hour, "because no man hath hired us" receive for one hour as much as those who have labored throughout the day, then those who entered the third hour and the Lord of the vineyard himself took them out the fourth hour, will receive as great rewards as though they had been left to bear the burden and heat of the day. Blessed consolation to those who have lost loved ones who were taken early in life. Three of the Saviour's parables are closely connected in their teaching concerning rewards: The parable of the pounds, where each servant has a pound and one gains ten pounds and another five; one receives authority over ten cities, the other receives authority over five cities, just half the reward of the other, because he was just half as faithful (Luke 19:16-19). This parable represents that class of men who have equal opportunity in life (each one a pound) and teaches that their reward will be in proportion to what they accomplish. The second is the parable of the vineyard, representing the length of time of service when the laborers were not to blame for not entering the vineyard earlier; showing that they shall not lose because they could not get into the vineyard to work earlier. The third is the parable of the talents, where the one with five talents gained five other talents and the one with two talents gained two other talents, and they both received the same commendation, the same reward, "I will make thee ruler over many things" (Matt. 25:20-23); teaching that the one with small opportunity (two talents) if he uses it faithfully, will receive as great reward as the one with great opportunity (five talents) who uses it faithfully. A widely misunderstood passage of Scripture bearing on the subject of rewards is 1 Cor. 9:24-27: "Know ye not that they that run in a race run all, but only one receiveth the prize? So run that ye may obtain. And every contestant in the games is temperate in all things. They, indeed, do it to obtain a corruptible crown; but we an incorruptible. I therefore so run, not as uncertainly; so fight I, not as one that beateth the air; but I buffet my body and bring it into subjection; lest that by any means, after having preached to others, I myself should be disapproved."--The 1911 Bible. The Authorized Version reads "a castaway"; the Revised Version reads "rejected." Many have thought that Paul was striving that he might not be a castaway (or rejected) from salvation. But notice the passage; he was striving not to be a castaway (or rejected) from something that is secured as a result of one's own efforts, "so run that ye may obtain." Salvation is not secured as a result of one's efforts; "to him that _worketh not_ but believeth on him that justifieth the ungodly, his faith is counted for righteousness."--Rom. 4:5. Rewards are secured as a result of one's own efforts; "each man shall receive his own reward according to his own labor."--1 Cor. 3:8. Again, what Paul was striving not to be a castaway (or rejected) from, is something that one receives after the race is finished; but salvation comes at the beginning of the race course, "He that believeth on the Son _hath_ everlasting life,"--John 3:36; "by grace _have ye been_ saved."--Eph. 2:8. Rewards do come after the race is finished;--"thou shalt be recompensed _at the resurrection of the just_."--Luke 14:14. Again, in saying "I buffet my body," he has no reference to buffeting his body to keep it from sin, but from _comforts and privileges that are not sinful_. In the entire chapter he has referred only to his not eating and drinking; not leading about a wife as well as other apostles and the brethren of the Lord and Cephas; not being supported by those to whom he preached (1 Cor. 9:4-14); and in each case he says that he has a right to these things. Was Paul buffeting his body against having a wife lest he should be a castaway (or rejected) from salvation? Then only the Roman Catholic priests, among the preachers, will be saved. Was Paul buffeting his body against being supported by those to whom he preached, and working with his own hands for his living, lest he should be a castaway (or rejected) from salvation? Then the Roman Catholic priests and almost all of the Protestant and Baptists preachers will be lost. Will a man be a castaway (or rejected) from salvation for enjoying comforts and privileges that are not sinful and to which he has a right? But let Paul state for himself what he means: "For if I do this thing willingly _I have a reward_."--1 Cor. 9:17. He then urges the Corinthian Christians to run in the race that they may receive the prize. "I buffet my body and bring it into subjection (from enjoying these sinless comforts and privileges); lest that by any means, after having preached (R. V. margin "have been a herald") to others (preaching or heralding to run in the race and so run as to obtain the prize, the reward) I myself should be disapproved" (a castaway, rejected,--from the prize, the reward). "If any man's work abide which he hath built thereupon, he shall receive a reward. If any man's work shall be burned, he shall suffer loss, but he himself shall be saved, yet so as through fire."--1 Cor. 3:14, 15. But does Paul teach that there are rewards for bodily sufferings and self-denials? Let him explain: "Though I am free from all men, yet have I made myself servant unto all, _that I might gain the more_."--1 Cor. 9:19. That, by giving up these comforts and privileges he might win more people to be saved (1 Cor. 9:20-22). There is the prize, there are rewards, for those who bring their bodies under from comforts and privileges that they may thereby win others to be saved. With the coppers in the foreign mission envelope from an orphan newsboy was found a note written in a child's awkward handwriting, "Starved a meal to give a meal." He would not have been a castaway from salvation had he bought and eaten his lunch that day; but there will be, at the resurrection of the just (Luke 14:14), the prize for having brought his body into subjection that he might gain the more. During a collection for foreign missions, a poor, ragged, one-legged negro hobbled down the aisle and laid three packages of money on the table: "Dat's fur my wife; dat's fur my boy; dat's fur me." When the collector saw the amount, he protested, saying that it was too much for a poor crippled man to give. As a matter of fact, it meant weeks of sacrificing, sometimes with no meat on the table. As the tears trickled down the black cheeks, the negro said, "Oh, Boss, de Lord's cause must go on, and I may soon be dead"; and turning he hobbled back to his seat. He was only a poor, ignorant, one-legged negro, but he ran in the race, and at the resurrection of the just he will receive the prize. A Christian Chinaman sold himself to some mine owners that he might go down in the mines and while working lead his fellow-Chinamen to be saved. He had no support from those to whom he preached, but worked with his own hands. He ran in the race, and will receive the prize. If the young Catholic priest was redeemed who turned from the comforts and privileges of a wife and home and gave himself for the lepers, there will be the prize at the resurrection of the just. The world says that a man is a fool to make such sacrifices; Jesus said: "Thou fool ... so is he that layeth up treasures for himself and is not rich toward God."--Luke 12:20, 21. "If any man's work abide which he hath built thereupon he shall receive a reward. If any man's work shall be burned, he shall suffer loss; but he himself shall be saved, yet so as through fire."--1 Cor. 3:14, 15. VII HOW TO BE SAVED--REPENTANCE AND FAITH "Repent ye and believe the gospel."--Mark 1:15. "Repentance toward God, and faith toward our Lord Jesus Christ."--Acts 20:21. "And ye when ye had seen it, repented not afterward, that ye might believe him."--Matt. 21:32. "Except ye repent, ye shall all likewise perish."--Luke 13:3. "And as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, even so must the Son of man be lifted up; that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have eternal life."--John 3:14,15. "Sirs, what must I do to be saved? And they said, Believe on the Lord Jesus and thou shalt be saved."--Acts 16:30, 31. Wherever repentance and faith are mentioned in God's word without one exception, repentance comes before faith. There is a faith that comes before repentance; but it is pure historical faith, and does not result in salvation. "He that cometh to God must believe that he is,"--Heb. 11:26; the demons believe in God's existence, that He is; Thomas Paine believed in God's existence, that He is. But the faith that results in salvation invariably comes after repentance; "And ye when ye had seen it, repented not afterward, _that ye_ might believe him."--Matt. 21:32. If, therefore, the faith that saves must come after repentance, then those who have no saving faith after repentance, have no salvation, are not really redeemed. Not only so, but if saving faith must come after repentance, then those who place the only faith they claim, before repentance, do not understand what saving faith is. Jesus preached, "Repent ye and believe the gospel."--Mark 1:15. Paul preached "repentance toward God and faith toward our Lord Jesus Christ."--Acts 20:21. What does "repent" or "repentance" mean? God's word teaches that one must repent _in order to believe_. "And ye when ye had seen it, repented not afterward, _that ye might believe him_."--Matt. 21:32. "Except ye repent, ye shall all likewise perish."--Luke 13:3. Then whatever "repentance" or "repent" means, it is something that must take place before one can be saved, before he can "believe the gospel" (Mark 1:15); before he can have "faith toward our Lord Jesus Christ."--Acts 20:21. The Saviour gives a complete, perfect picture of salvation, and in that picture we can find what repentance means: "As Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, even so must the Son of man be lifted up: that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have eternal life."--John 3:14, 15. Jesus says "As," "even so"; then in the case of the serpent in the wilderness we have a complete, perfect picture of the way of salvation. By seeing what came back there before the lifting up of the serpent, we can see what comes before believing in Him, or "faith toward our Lord Jesus Christ." Notice the incident to which the Saviour referred as showing the complete picture of the way of salvation: "And they journeyed from Mount Hor by the way of the Red Sea, to compass the land of Edom: And the soul of the people was much discouraged because of the way. And the people spake against God, and against Moses, Wherefore have ye brought us up out of Egypt to die in the wilderness? For there is no bread, neither is there any water; and our soul loatheth this light bread. And the Lord sent fiery serpents among the people, and they bit the people; and much people of Israel died. Therefore the people came to Moses, and said, We have sinned, for we have spoken against the Lord, and against thee; pray unto the Lord that he take away the serpents from us. And Moses prayed for the people. And the Lord said unto Moses, Make thee a fiery serpent, and set it upon a pole, and it shall come to pass, that every one that is bitten, when he looketh upon it, shall live. And Moses made a serpent of brass, and put it upon a pole, and it came to pass, that if a serpent had bitten any man, when he beheld the serpent of brass, he lived."--Num. 21:4-9. These people realized that they had sinned against God; that their sins deserved punishment; that they were justly condemned--"we have sinned";--that they were helpless, "Pray unto the Lord that _he_ take away the serpents from us"; and in their helpless condition they turned from their sins and turned to God. There had been, then, an entire change of mind and purpose, or they would never have turned from their sins to God. When they faced the fact that they had sinned and were justly condemned, there resulted sorrow, and their sorrow led to the change of mind and purpose to turn from their sins to God. Had there been no conviction of sin, no realization that they had sinned and were justly condemned, there would have been no change of mind, or purpose to turn from sin to God. Here, then, we have what repentance is,--a conviction of sin, such a realization of the fact that one has sinned and is justly condemned that it produces such sorrow as leads to an entire change of mind and purpose to turn from sin and turn to God. God then provided the easiest way for them, "every one that is bitten, when he looketh upon it [the brazen serpent] shall live."--Num. 21:8. The Saviour says, "Even so must the Son of man be lifted up, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have eternal life."--John 3:15. Notice the case of the jailor, Acts 16:22-34. When the jailor fell down before Paul and Silas and brought them out and said, "Sirs, what must I do to be saved?" (Verse 30), they did not say, "Repent"; they said, "Believe on the Lord Jesus and thou shalt be saved."--Verse 31. But God's word teaches plainly that we must repent in order to believe (Matt. 21:32; Luke 13:3). Then repentance must have already taken place,--he must have already repented,--or they would have taught him "repentance toward God" as well as "faith toward our Lord Jesus Christ."--Acts 20:21. Go back and notice the jailor's case: the night before, he had taken Paul and Silas with their backs bloody from the beating they had received, and had not washed their stripes (Verse 33), had given them no supper (Verse 34), and had thrust them into the inner prison and made their feet fast in the stocks. He was utterly hardened. The praying and singing hymns to God by Paul and Silas, the sudden earthquake, Paul's crying out against his committing suicide, had convicted him of sin, such a conviction as had produced sorrow, for he came trembling and fell down before them; and the sorrow had led to an entire change of mind and purpose, and he said, "Sirs, what must I do to be saved?"--"what," anything God would have me do I am ready to do,--he had turned from his sins and had turned to God. Hence they did not say "Repent," for he had repented; but they said, "Believe on the Lord Jesus and thou shalt be saved."--Acts 16:31. Having seen what the Saviour meant by repentance, let us go to the meaning of the word translated "repent." "This word," says J. P. Boyce, the great theologian, in his systematic theology, "means to reconsider, perceive afterwards and to change one's view, mind or purpose, or even judgment, implying disapproval and abandonment of past opinions and purposes, and the adoption of others which are different." B. H. Carroll, President Southwestern Baptist Theological Seminary: "We may therefore give as the one invariable definition of New Testament repentance that it is a change of mind." B. H. Carroll, again, "Repentance is a change of mind toward God concerning a course of sin leading rapidly down to death and eternal ruin." Once more from B. H. Carroll: "If in one moment the soul is contrite enough to turn in abhorrence of sin against God from all self-help to our Lord Jesus Christ by faith, it is sufficient." John A. Broadus, the great American scholar and teacher: "To repent, then, as a religious term of the New Testament, is to change the mind, thought or purpose as regards sin and the service of God--a change naturally accompanied by deep sorrow for past sins, and naturally leading to a change of outward life." As the Bible teaches that no man can be saved who has not repented ("Except ye repent, ye shall all likewise perish."--Luke 13:3), and as no one has repented who has not been convicted of sin, who has not seen himself a guilty, justly condemned sinner, it follows that no one is saved, no one can be saved, who does not believe that God will and ought to punish sin. But to those who have repented, the way to be saved is simple, easy, sure: "Believe on the Lord Jesus and thou shalt be saved."--Acts 16:31. _FOR FURTHER STUDY_:--There has been much misunderstanding about repentance. Some men, as Moody, Harry Moorehouse, J. H. Brookes, etc., have been charged with not preaching enough repentance, simply because they did not use the words "repent" and "repentance" as much as others; whereas, others who use the words often, and tell touching incidents, are said to preach "old-fashioned repentance." It is not the word repentance that God requires, but the thing repentance, and a sinner must repent or he cannot believe (Matt. 21:32) and he will perish (Luke 13:3). The gospel of John is the only book of the Bible given specifically to sinners to lead them to be saved. The way of salvation can be found in many of the books of the Bible, and is taught in them; but the gospel of John is the only book of the Bible given for the special, specific purpose of leading a sinner to be saved. "Many other signs truly did Jesus in the presence of his disciples which are not written in this book: but these are written that ye might believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and that believing ye might have life through his name."--John 20:30, 31. In this book, given specifically to lead a sinner to be saved, the word "repentance" or "repent" does not occur, but the thing repentance does (John 3:14, 15). On the difference between the thing repentance and the word repentance, give attention to the words of John A. Broadus, the great American scholar and teacher already quoted: "Great difficulty has been found in translating this Greek word 'metanoein' into languages. The Syriac version, unable to give the precise meaning, falls back upon 'turn,' the same word as the Hebrew. The Latin version gives 'Exercise penitence' (poenitentiam agere). But this Latin penitence, apparently connected by etymology with _pain_, signifies grief or distress, and is rarely extended to a change of purpose, thus corresponding to the Hebrew word which we render 'repent,' but _not_ corresponding to the terms employed in Old Testament and New Testament exhortations. Hence a subtle and pernicious error, pervading the whole sphere of Latin Christianity, by which the exhortation of the New Testament is understood to be an exhortation to _grief_ over sin, as the primary and principal idea of the term. One step farther and penitence was contracted into _penance_, and associated with mediæval ideas unknown to the New Testament, and the English Version made by Romanists now represents John and Jesus and Peter as saying (poenitentiam agere) do penance. From a late Latin compound (repoenitere) comes our English word 'repent,' which inherits the fault of the Latin; making grief the prominent element, and change of purpose secondary, if expressed at all. Thus our English word corresponds exactly to the second Greek word (metamelesthai), and to the Hebrew word rendered repent, but sadly fails to translate the exhortation of the New Testament." Repentance is not a price that the sinner pays for salvation; neither is the sorrow that leads to repentance a price that he pays for salvation. And repentance does not make the sinner a fit subject for salvation; nor does the sorrow that leads to repentance make him a fit subject for salvation. No one can see that he has violated God's just and holy law and is guilty, justly condemned, helpless, without its producing sorrow and this sorrow will lead to repentance, to an entire change of mind and purpose, to turning from sin, and, as B. H. Carroll expressed it, from all self-help ("repentance from dead works,"--Heb. 6:1) to God. Some are sometimes troubled as to how much sorrow there must be. There are different degrees of sorrow in different people, but there must be enough sorrow to lead to repentance, to an entire change of mind and purpose. "In both the Old Testament and the New Testament exhortation the element of grief for sin is left in the background, neither word directly expressing grief at all, though it must in the nature of things be present."--_Jno. A. Broadus._ "To repent is to change your mind about sin and Christ and all the good things of God. There is sorrow implied in this; but the main point is the turning of the heart from sin to Christ. If there be this turning you have the essence of the repentance, even though no alarm and no despair should ever have cast their shadow upon your mind."--_C. H. Spurgeon._ "Conviction of sin is just the sinner seeing himself as he is and as God has all along seen him."--_H. Bonar, in "God's Way of Peace."_ "The object of the Holy Spirit's work in convincing of sin is to alter the sinner's opinion of himself and so to reduce his estimate of his own character, that he shall think of himself as God does, and so cease to suppose it possible that he can be justified by any excellence of his own. Having altered the sinner's good opinion of himself, the Spirit then alters his evil opinion of God, so as to make him see that the God with whom he has to deal is really the God of all grace."--_Bonar._ "It is impossible, therefore, in the nature of things, for a sinful being to appreciate God's mercy unless he first feels His justice as manifest in the holy law."--_Walker, in "Philosophy of the Plan of Salvation."_ "Man cannot repent and turn from sin till he is convicted of sin in himself."--_Walker, in "Philosophy of the Plan of Salvation."_ "The more we feel the want of a benefactor, temporal or spiritual, and the more we feel our inability to rescue ourselves from existing difficulties and impending dangers, the more grateful love will the heart feel for the being who, moved by, and in despite of, personal sacrifices, interposes to assist and save us."--_Walker, in "Philosophy of the Plan of Salvation."_ "As a feeling of want was necessary in order that the soul might love the being that supplied that want, and as Jesus came to bestow spiritual mercies upon mankind, _how could men be brought to feel the want of a spiritual Benefactor and Saviour?_"... "According to the constitution which God has given the soul, it must feel the want of the spiritual mercies before it can feel love for the giver of those mercies. And just in proportion as the soul feels its lost, guilty, and dangerous condition, in the same proportion will it exercise love to the being who grants spiritual favor and salvation. How then could the spiritual want be produced in the souls of men in order that they might love the spiritual benefactor?"... "The only possible way by which man could be made to hope for and appreciate spiritual mercies and to love a spiritual deliverer would be to produce a conviction in the soul itself of its evil condition, its danger as a spiritual being, and its inability, unaided, to satisfy the requirements of a _spiritual law_, or to escape its just and spiritual penalty. If man could be made to perceive that he was guilty and needy; that his soul was under the condemnation of the holy law of the holy God, he would then, necessarily, feel the need of a deliverance from sin and its consequences; and in this way only, could the soul of man be led to appreciate spiritual mercies, or love a spiritual benefactor."--_Walker, in "Philosophy of the Plan of Salvation."_ VIII THE MEANING OF "BELIEVE ON" OR "BELIEVE IN" CHRIST "God so loved the world he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth on him should not perish, but have eternal life."--John 3:16 (R. V.). "This is the work of God, that ye believe on him whom he hath sent."--John 6:27. "He that believeth on me shall never thirst."--John 6:35. "To him give all the prophets witness, that through his name whosoever believeth on him shall receive remission of sins."--Acts 10:43. "Believe on the Lord Jesus, and thou shalt be saved."--Acts 16:31. "John verily baptized with the baptism of repentance, saying unto the people that they should believe on him that should come after him, that is, on Jesus."--Acts 19:4. "To him that worketh not, but believeth on him that justifieth the ungodly, his faith is reckoned for righteousness."--Rom. 4:5. "Whosoever liveth and believeth in [into] me shall never die. Believest thou this?"--John 11:26. "We have believed in [into] Jesus Christ, that we might be justified by the faith of Christ, and not by the works of the law."--Gal. 2:16 (R. V.). "I know him whom I have believed, and I am persuaded that he is able to guard that which I have committed unto him against that day."--2 Tim. 1:12 (R. V.). If language can be made plain, if it can be used to express a fact clearly, then God's word teaches clearly, unmistakably, that the one who believes on Christ is going to Heaven. One may think it to be too good to be true, when he reads what God's word says along this line; he may be honestly tempted to suspect that there must be many hidden, suppressed conditions, which, if expressed, would make the meaning different; or from religious prejudice, he may warp the meaning or bring in other conditions;--but God's word is plain. "God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth on him should not perish, but have eternal life."--John 3:16. It does not say, whosoever believeth on him and unites with the right church, or is baptized the right way, or lives the right kind of a life; it simply says, "whosoever believeth on him"; and then the promise is plain and absolute, "should not perish." Jesus said, "he that believeth on me shall never thirst."--John 6:35. He did not say, he that believeth on me and unites with the right church, or is baptized the right way, or lives the right kind of a life; he said plainly, simply, "he that believeth on me," and then added "shall never thirst." Peter to the household of Cornelius said, "To him give all the prophets witness, that through his name whosoever believeth on him shall receive remission of sins."--Acts 10:43. He did not say, whosoever believeth on him and unites with the right church, or is baptized the right way, or lives the right kind of a life; but simply, "whosoever believeth on him," and then adds the plain promise, "shall receive remission of sins." When the jailor came trembling and fell down before Paul and Silas and brought them out and said, "Sirs, what must I do to be saved?" they answered, simply, plainly, "Believe on the Lord Jesus, and thou shalt be saved."--Acts 16:31. They did not say, believe on the Lord Jesus and unite with the right church, or be baptized the right way, or live the right kind of a life; they said simply, "Believe on the Lord Jesus, and thou shalt be saved." When Paul wrote to the Romans, "To him that worketh not, but believeth on him that justifieth the ungodly, his faith is reckoned for righteousness,"--Rom. 4:5, he did not say, believeth on him that justifieth the ungodly and unites with the right church, or is baptized the right way, or lives the right kind of a life; but simply, "To him that worketh not, but believeth on him that justifieth the ungodly, his faith is reckoned for righteousness." Jesus to the grief-stricken sister of Lazarus said, "Whosoever liveth and believeth in [into] me shall never die."--John 11:26. He did not say, whosoever liveth and believeth in me and unites with the right church, or is baptized the right way, or lives the right kind of life; but simply and plainly, "whosoever liveth and believeth in me," and then He adds His plain promise, "shall never die." When Paul said to the Galatians, "we have believed in [into] Jesus Christ, that we might be justified by the faith of Christ,"--Gal. 2:16, he did not say, we have believed in Jesus Christ and united with the right church and been baptized the right way, that we might be justified by faith of Christ and not by the works of the law. Instead of this, he puts it in simple, plain language. In all of these cases, these conditions could have been expressed just as easily by the Saviour and Peter and Paul as they are expressed by religious teachers to-day. Why did not the Saviour and Peter and Paul express these conditions? There can be but one answer,--because they are not conditions of salvation. How could the Saviour and Peter and Paul have left out these conditions if they are conditions of salvation? But the question arises, if being baptized the right way and living the right kind of a life are not conditions of salvation, why do these things? Not from fear of Hell; God desires no service from that motive. Let the Saviour tell why. When He instituted the Lord's supper, He said, "This is my blood of the new covenant which is shed for many, for the remission of sins,"--Matt. 26:28; and then before leaving the upper room He said to His disciples: "if ye love me, keep my commandments."--John 14:15. Why love Him? Love Him because He shed His blood for the remission of their sins. Let Paul tell us why serve Him: "The love of Christ constraineth us; because we thus judge that if one died for all, then all died; and he died for all, that they who live should not henceforth live unto themselves, but unto him who died for them, and rose again."--2 Cor. 5:14, 15. Now comes the all-important question, what do these parallel expressions, "believe on Christ" or "believe in [into] Christ" mean? Many, when they see how simple and plain is the teaching, say, "Why, almost every one believes on Christ." No; they believe _about_ Christ, but not _on_ Christ. A wealthy man deposits a large sum of money in the bank and promises to pay the debts of all the poor people who will trust him to pay their debts. They all may believe him, may believe about him; but only those who believe on him, depend on him, rely on him to pay their debts, will have their debts paid. So Christ died for all our sins (1 Cor. 15:3); He gave Himself for us that He might redeem us from all iniquity (Titus 2:14); but only those who _believe on_ Him, _depend on_ Him, _rely on_ Him to save them, will ever be saved. The man who is depending on Christ and his baptism or Christ and his church, or Christ and his good life to save him, will be lost; for he is not believing on, depending on, relying on, Christ to save him; but only partly on Christ and partly on something else; and _there is no promise in God's word that those who partly believe on Christ shall be saved_. The very fact that a man depends partly on Christ and partly on something else to save him, shows that he has never believed that the Saviour "gave himself for us that he might redeem us from all iniquity" (Titus 2:13, 14); the Saviour he is depending on is not the Saviour God's word reveals; and hence he has no Saviour at all. Notice Paul's instruction to the Romans concerning believing on Christ: "To him that worketh not, but believeth on him that justifieth the ungodly, his faith is reckoned for righteousness."--Rom. 4:5. Consider the simple but vital teaching of this passage: He justifieth the ungodly. How? "Whom God hath set forth to be a propitiation through faith in his blood ... to declare, I say, at this time his righteousness, that he might be _just_ and the _justifier_ of him that believeth in Jesus" (Rom. 3:25, 26); "being now justified by his blood."--Rom. 5:9. And He justifies us from all sin, "Our Saviour Jesus Christ who gave himself for us that he might redeem us from _all_ iniquity" (Titus 2:13, 14); redeems us from the curse of the law (Gal. 3:13), redeems us from under the law (Rom. 6:14), and this makes us God's children (Gal. 4:4-7). Consider further: He justifies _the ungodly_. If He justifies the ungodly then all efforts to become godly _in order to be saved_, are worse than wasted and are in rebellion against _God's plan for men_. "When we were yet without strength in due time Christ died for the _ungodly_."--Rom. 5:6. "God commendeth his own love toward us, in that _while we were yet sinners_, Christ died for us."--Rom. 5:8. "_When we were enemies_ we were reconciled to God by the death of his Son."--Rom. 5:10. Why? Because Christ justifies the ungodly. The Saviour did not say to Nicodemus, "Whosoever becomes godly should not perish," but "Whosoever believeth on him." Why? Because He justifies _the ungodly_. Paul and Silas did not say to the jailor, a hardened sinner, "Become godly and thou shalt be saved"; but "Believe on the Lord Jesus, and thou shalt be saved." Why? Because He justifies _the ungodly_. On what condition does He justify the ungodly? "To him that _worketh_ not, but _believeth_ on him." Here is the work of the soul to be saved; Paul says to cease working at the task, and believe on, depend on, Him--He justifies the ungodly. God gave men ten commandments to keep. God's word says, "The man that doeth them shall live by them."--Gal. 3:12. But all men have failed to keep them; "all have sinned and come short of the glory of God."--Rom. 3:23. To illustrate: A father gives a little boy ten rows of corn to work out and says to him, "Willie, if you will work out the ten rows of corn to-day, I will pay you five dollars; but it will take steady work all day." About nine o'clock some boys persuade Willie to play, and he plays with them for two hours. Now he cannot get the task done, and so is sure to lose the five dollars. His grown brother comes to him and says, "Willie, I saw the trouble you were getting into, and had a talk with father. Father says that the work must be done or you will lose the five dollars. But father agreed to let me do the work for you. Now if you will quit working at the task and trust me, depend on me, I will see that the work is done, and that you get the five dollars." The little brother quits working at the task, and gets out of the field. He believes on, depends on, trusts, his big brother. If, now, there is any failure, it will be the big brother's failure, and not the little brother's. So, "To him that worketh not, but believeth on him that justifieth the ungodly, his faith is reckoned for righteousness." If, then, the sinner will quit working at the task of his salvation and believe on, depend on Christ, trust the whole work of salvation to Him, He will "justify the ungodly" from "all iniquity" (Titus 2:14). If, then, there should be any failure of being saved, it would be Christ's failure, for He said, "Him that cometh unto me, I will in no wise cast out."--John 6:37. Why, then, should the one who has thus trusted Christ ever be baptized, or live a faithful, godly life? Go back to the illustration: As the little brother quits working at the task in the field and believes on, depends on, trusts, the big brother to have the task done, a man meets him and says, "Willie, your brother was good to you. But to do your work for you, that you might not lose the five dollars, he left his field, and it needs work badly. If I were in your place, from love to my big brother, I would go and work in his field for him." The little brother says, "I will do it, sir." He goes over into his big brother's field and works harder than ever, not from fear of losing the five dollars, but from love to his big brother. So the Saviour, after we have believed on Him, trusted Him to save, justify us, says, "If ye love me, keep my commandments."--John 14:15. "Go work to-day in _my_ vineyard,"--Matt. 21:28; not "in _your own_." All the work that the redeemed, the saved, man does is not in his own field, to get the task done, that he may be saved; but in the big brother's field, from love to the big brother for having relieved him of the entire responsibility for the task. To follow up the illustration: The big brother sees the little brother working in the big brother's field and he goes to him and says, "Willie, I appreciate this, for you are doing it from love to me. If you were doing it from fear lest I might not keep my promise, it would hurt me; for that would show that you did not trust me. But you cannot work for me for nothing. I will pay you fifty cents for every hour you work in my field. Now, work hard and have a large reward for your labor." So the Saviour says, "Whosoever shall give to drink unto one of these little ones a cup of water only in the name of a disciple, verily I say unto you, he shall in no wise lose his reward."--Matt. 10:42. And he says, "Lay up for yourselves treasures in Heaven."--Matt. 6:20. "He shall reward every man according to his works."--Matt. 16:27. The reward of fifty cents for every hour's work does not destroy the motive of love that moves the little brother; it only increases the motive of love. But do not redeemed people, God's children, sometimes become backsliders? Yes. Go back to the illustration of the little brother and his task. As he is working from love to his big brother, in the big brother's field, the bad boys follow him and tempt him, and prevail on him to leave the big brother's field and to mistreat the big brother. The father sees it all; goes and takes the little brother out into the forest and reproves him for his wrong to his big brother, and then chastises him and sends him back to the big brother's field. So, when God's redeemed, saved children backslide, do wrong wilfully, He chastises them. "My son, despise not thou the chastening of the Lord, nor faint when thou art rebuked of him; for whom the Lord loveth he chasteneth and scourgeth every son whom he receiveth."--Heb. 12:5, 6. "Also I will make him my firstborn, higher than the kings of the earth. My mercy will I keep for him for evermore, and my covenant shall stand fast with him. His seed also will I make to endure forever, and his throne as the days of heaven. If his children forsake my law and walk not in my judgments; if they break my statutes, and keep not my commandments; then will I visit their transgression with the rod and their iniquity with stripes. Nevertheless, my loving kindness will I not utterly take from him nor suffer my faithfulness to fail."--Ps. 89:27-33. Reader, which field are you working in? Are you working in your own field? trying to accomplish a task, now that you have sinned, you can never accomplish?--Meet _all_ of God's just laws and requirements, and develop a character that will entitle you to a home in Heaven? Heed the message, "To him that worketh not, but believeth on him that justifieth the ungodly, his faith is reckoned for righteousness." Believe on Him, depend on Him, to justify you from all iniquity (Titus 2:14). The moment you do, your eternal destiny is settled, "Verily, verily I say unto you, he that heareth my word and believeth on him that sent me, hath everlasting life, and shall not come into condemnation, but is passed from death unto life."--John 5:24. Then, from love to the big brother, go into his field and work till the day is done. In telling of his own salvation, Paul again makes plain what "believe on the Lord Jesus" means: "I know him whom I have believed and am persuaded that he is able to keep that which I have committed to him against that day." Notice this declaration as to the apostle's salvation: "I know him." A man must "know him" or he cannot "believe on" Christ. He can _risk_ Him without knowing Him, but he cannot _believe on_ Him, cannot _trust_ Him for salvation. It does not mean, know Him in every respect, as to how His divine and human nature could be united; as to how He could have had eternal existence; as to how His resurrected body could appear and disappear, etc., but to know Him in His character as Saviour. In trusting money to a bank one does not need to know how much German or French or English blood there is in the bank officials. In trusting one's case to a physician, one does not need to know the different nationalities from which he is descended, but he needs to know him in his character as physician. So men must know Jesus in His character as Saviour, or they cannot believe on, trust Him to save them. They must, then, know Him as the Messiah, the promised Saviour, the complete sin-bearer, or they cannot believe on Him. But after one knows the bank, he must commit his money to the bank, else the bank is not responsible for it. After one knows the physician, he must commit his case to the physician, else the physician is not responsible. And so Paul says, "I am persuaded that he is able to keep that which I _have committed unto him against that day_." No one, then, is redeemed, is saved, who has not committed his salvation to Christ against that day. Let the reader get clearly the meaning of "commit." No one has committed money to the bank who yet holds to the money; no one has committed a package to the express company who yet holds to the package; no one has committed a letter to the post-office for delivery who yet holds to the letter. So no one has committed his salvation to Christ, no one is redeemed, is saved, who yet holds to the work of his salvation. He must _commit_ it to Christ. Further, no one has _committed_ his money to the bank who has not left the entire responsibility for the money's safety to the bank, leaving no further responsibility whatever upon himself for the safety of the money. No one has _committed_ a package to the express company, who has not left the whole responsibility for the delivery of the package entirely to the company, leaving no responsibility whatever upon himself for its safe delivery. No one has _committed_ a letter to the post-office who has not left the entire responsibility for its safe delivery to the government, leaving no responsibility whatever upon himself for its safe delivery. Even so, no one has _committed_ his salvation to Christ, no one is redeemed, is saved, who has not left the entire responsibility of his salvation to Christ, leaving no responsibility whatever for his salvation upon himself. But one may have committed his money to the bank and yet not really have trusted the bank, but only _risked_ the bank; one may have committed a package to the express company and yet not really have trusted the express company, but only _risked_ it; one may have committed a letter to the post-office and yet not really have trusted the post-office, but only _risked_ it. So, one may have committed his salvation to Christ, and yet be unredeemed, unsaved, because he only _risked_ Christ and did not _trust_ Him. Hence Paul says, "I know him whom I have _believed_," _trusted, taken at His word_. One other fact needs to be considered as to what believing on Christ means in Paul's case. He says, "I am persuaded that he is able to keep that which I have committed to him _against that day_." It is not a committal of one's salvation to Christ a moment at a time, nor till one can see how he will afterwards feel; nor till one can see whether he is going to be able to live a Christian life. It is to commit one's salvation to Christ "_against that day_." And the moment one does what Paul did, commits his salvation to Christ against that day, God's word says he is saved, redeemed: "Verily, verily I say unto you, He that heareth my word and believeth on him that sent me, hath everlasting life, and shall not come into condemnation, but is passed from death unto life."--John 5:24. _FOR FURTHER STUDY_:--When Paul says, "To him that worketh not, but believeth on him that justifieth _the ungodly_, his faith is counted for righteousness,"--Rom. 4:5, he is in line with the teaching of the Saviour when He said, "The publicans and the harlots go into the kingdom of God before you,"--Matt. 21:31; and if the teaching of the Saviour and Paul on this point is true, then there is not left one square inch of ground on which the teachers of "salvation by character" may stand. They are not in agreement with the Saviour and Paul on this point, but there is one with whom they are here in strict agreement; "I hope for happiness beyond this life"; "I believe that religious duties consist in doing justice, loving mercy, and endeavoring to make our fellow-creatures happy"; "The only true religion is deism, by which I then meant and now mean the belief of one God, and an imitation of his moral character, or the practice of what are called moral virtues; and that _it was upon this only_ (so far as religion is concerned) _that I rested my hopes of happiness hereafter_. So say I now, and so help me God." These are exact quotations from "The Age of Reason," by Thomas Paine. And those who preach "salvation by character" thus line up with Paine against the Saviour and Paul. They fail to see that there can be no proper character without proper motive, and that there can, in the sight of God, be no proper motive till one is redeemed, saved, and thus placed where the motive will be love, the purest motive possible to human beings. And they fail to see that _God's plan with men_ is to save irrespective of character, and then to develop in the redeemed man the real character for all eternity. God has not two ways of salvation; He has not two ways of believing on Christ. What is essential to one man's salvation is essential to the salvation of every man. What is "believing on Christ" for one man, is believing on Christ for every man. When Paul says "I know him whom I have believed, and am persuaded that he is able to guard that which I have committed to him against that day,"--2 Tim. 1:12 (R. V.), he has given the pattern of saving faith. "I know him." Man _must_ know Him in His real character as Saviour or he cannot commit to Him against that day the matter of his eternal destiny, cannot believe on Him. What are the essential things, then, that must be included in "I know him" in His character as Saviour, in order that one can believe on Him, be saved by Him, be a real Christian? First, one must know Him as the promised Messiah, in order to really believe on Him, to be really a Christian. The high priest asked, "Art thou the Christ, the Son of the Blessed? And Jesus said, I am."--Mark 14:61, 62. The woman at the well said, "I know that Messiah cometh, who is called Christ: When he is come, he will tell us all things. Jesus saith unto her, I that speak unto thee, am he."--John 4:25, 26. As Ballard, in "The Miracles of Unbelief," has clearly pointed out, either (1) He was the Messiah; or (2) He was the illegitimate son of a fallen woman and the vilest deceiver the world has ever known, or (3) He was the illegitimate son of a fallen woman, and a poor, simple-minded ignoramus, who claimed to be the Messiah and honestly thought He was, but was simply ignorant and deluded. Men in their intellectual pride or religious prejudice may sneer and try to avoid this issue, but every honest thinking man will see and confess that only these three conclusions are possible, that one of the three is inevitable: and every honest man will take one of the three positions. Voltaire said "curse the wretch." He is to be commended as compared with the man who tries to avoid the issue. Second, one must know Him as complete Redeemer in order to believe on Him, in order to commit one's salvation to Him against that day. There is no middle ground. He was either no redeemer at all, or He "gave himself for us that he might redeem us from all iniquity."--Titus 2:14. To try to avoid the issue here is as fatal as to try to avoid the issue as to His being the Messiah. To believe on, to commit one's salvation to, a partial Redeemer, is to have no redeemer at all, to be left unredeemed, unsaved. Third, to know Him in order to believe on Him, to commit one's salvation to Him against that day, one must know Him as having been really raised from the dead. _Belief in the real resurrection of the Saviour is essential to salvation._ For one to be heralded abroad as a great preacher and theologian who yet denies the literal, real resurrection of the Saviour, cannot change God's word that all such are yet unredeemed, lost, not real Christians. God's word is plain on this point: "If thou shalt confess with thy mouth Jesus as Lord, and _shalt believe in thy heart that God hath raised him from the dead_, thou shalt be saved."--Rom. 10:9. "If Christ hath not been raised your faith is vain; _ye are yet in your sins_."--1 Cor. 15:17. Chalmers, the great Scotch preacher, in a letter to a friend made plain what believing on Christ means: "I must say that I never had so close and satisfactory a view of the gospel salvation, as when I have been led to contemplate it in the light of a simple offer on the one side, and a simple acceptance on the other. It is just saying to one and all of us, There is forgiveness through the blood of My Son: Take it, and whoever believes the reality of the offer takes it.... We are apt to stagger at the greatness of the unmerited offer and cannot attach faith to it till we have made up some title of our own. This leads to two mischievous consequences: It keeps alive the presumption of one class who will still be thinking that it is something in themselves and of themselves which confers upon them a right of salvation; and it confirms the melancholy of another class, who look into their own hearts and their own lives, and find that they cannot make out a shadow of a title to the divine favor. The error of both lies in their looking to themselves when they should be looking to the Saviour. 'Look unto me and be ye saved, all the ends of the earth.'--Is. 45:22. The Son of man was so lifted up that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life (John 3:14, 15). It is your part simply to lay hold of the proffered boon. You are invited to do so; and you are entreated to do so; nay, what is more, you are commanded to do so. It is true, you are unworthy, and without holiness no man can see God; but be not afraid, only believe. You cannot get holiness of yourself, but Christ has undertaken to provide it for you. It is one of those spiritual blessings of which He has the dispensation, and which He has promised to all who believe in Him. God has promised that with His Son He will freely give you all things (Rom. 8:32); that He will walk in you, and dwell in you (2 Cor. 6:16); that He will purify your heart by faith (Acts 15:9); that He will put His law in your mind and write it in your heart (Heb. 8:10). These are the effects of your believing in Christ, and not the services by which you become entitled to believe in Him. Make a clear outset in the business, and understand that your first step is simply confiding acceptance of an offer that is most free, most frank, most generous, and most unconditional. If I were to come as an accredited agent from the upper sanctuary with a letter of invitation to you, with your name and address on it, you would not doubt your warrant to accept it. Well, here is the Bible, your invitation to come to Christ. It does not bear your name and address, but it says 'Whosoever,' that takes you in; it says 'all,' that takes you in; it says 'if any,' that takes you in. What can be surer or freer than that?" Equally helpful are the words of Horatius Bonar in "Words for the Inquiring":--"If you object that you cannot believe, then this indicates that you are proceeding quite in a wrong direction. You are still laboring under the idea that this believing is a work to be done by you, and not the acknowledgment of a work done by another. You would fain do something in order to get peace, and you think that if you could do this great thing 'believing,' if you could but perform this great act called faith, God would at once reward you by giving you peace. Thus faith is reckoned by you to be the price, in the sinner's hand, by which he buys peace, and not the mere holding out of the hand to get a peace which has already been bought by another. So long as you are attaching any meritorious importance to faith, however unconsciously, you are moving in a wrong direction--a direction from which no peace can come. Surely faith is not a work. On the contrary, it is a ceasing from work. It is not a climbing of the mountain, but a ceasing to attempt it, and allowing Christ to carry you up in His own arms. You seem to think that it is your act of faith that is to save you, and not the object of your faith, without which your act, however well performed, is nothing. Accordingly, you bethink yourself, and say, 'What a mighty work is this believing--what an effort does it require on my part--how am I to perform it?' Herein you sadly err, and your mistake lies chiefly here, in supposing that your peace is to come from the proper performance on your part of an act of faith; whereas, it is to come entirely from the proper perception of Him to whom the Father is pointing your eyes, and in regard to whom He is saying, 'Behold my servant whom I have chosen, look at Him, forget everything else--everything about yourself, your own faith, your own repentance, your own feelings--and look at Him! It is in Him, not out of your poor act of faith, that salvation lies; and out of Him, not out of your own act of faith, is peace to come.' Thus mistaking the meaning of faith and the way which faith saves you, you get into confusion, and mistake everything else connected with your peace: you mistake the real nature of that very inability to believe of which you complain so sadly. For that inability does not lie, as you fancy it does, in the impossibility of your performing aright the great act of faith, but of ceasing from all such self-righteous attempts to perform any act, or do any work whatsoever in order to your being saved. So that the real truth is, that you have not yet seen such a sufficiency in the one great work of the Son of God upon the cross, as to lead you utterly to discontinue your mistaken and aimless efforts to work out something of your own. "But perhaps you may object further, that you are not satisfied with your faith. No, truly, nor are you ever likely to be. If you wait for this before you take peace, you will wait till life is done. Not satisfaction with your own faith, but satisfaction with Jesus and His work, this is what God presses on you. You say, 'I am satisfied with Christ.' Are you? What more, then, do you wish? Is not satisfaction with Christ enough for you, or for every sinner? Nay, and is not this the truest kind of faith? To be _satisfied with Christ_, that is faith in Christ. To be satisfied with His blood, that is faith. What more could you have? Can your faith give you something which Christ cannot? Or will Christ give you nothing till you can produce faith of a certain kind and quality, whose excellences will entitle you to blessing? Do not bewilder yourself. Do not suppose that your faith is a price, or a bribe, or a merit. Is not the very essence of real faith just your being satisfied with Christ? Are you really satisfied with Him and with what He has done? Then do not puzzle yourself about your faith, but go on your way rejoicing, having thus been brought to be satisfied with Him who to know is peace, and life, and salvation.... Faith, however perfect, has of itself nothing to give you either of pardon or of life. Its finger points you to Jesus. Its voice bids you look straight to Him. Its object is to turn away from itself and from yourself altogether, that you may behold Him, and in beholding Him be satisfied with Him and in being satisfied with Him have joy and peace." Likewise James Denny, in "The Death of Christ," teaches the same lesson: "It is this great Gospel which is the gospel to win souls--this message of a sin-bearing, sin-expiating love which pleads for acceptance, which takes the whole responsibility of the sinner, unconditionally, with no preliminaries, if only he abandon himself to it." A young person who felt that his time in this world was short, wrote to an eminent English preacher to write and tell a sinner what he must do to prepare to die--what is the preparation required by God--and when he is fit to die. The preacher wrote: "I urge you to cast yourself at once, in the simplest faith, upon the Lord Jesus Christ and you shall be saved. All your true preparation for death is entirely out of yourself and in the Lord Jesus. Washed in His blood, and clothed upon with His righteousness, you may appear before God divinely, fully, freely and forever accepted. The salvation of the chief of sinners is all prepared, finished and complete in Christ (Eph. 1:6; Col. 2:10). Again I repeat, your eye of faith must now be directed entirely out of and from yourself, to Jesus. Beware of looking for any preparation to meet death _in yourself_. It is _all in Christ_. God does not accept you on the ground of a broken heart, or a clean heart, or a praying heart, or a believing heart. He accepts you wholly and entirely on the ground of the atonement of His blessed Son. Cast yourself in child-like faith upon that atonement--'Christ dying for the ungodly' (Rom. 5:6)--and you are saved! Justification is this, a poor law-condemned, self-condemned, self-destroyed sinner, wrapping himself by faith in the righteousness of the Lord Jesus Christ, which is unto all them that believe (Rom. 3:22). He, then, is justified and is prepared to die, and he only, who casts from him the garment of his own righteousness and runs unto this blessed city of Refuge--the Lord Jesus--and hides himself there--exclaiming, 'There is therefore now no condemnation to them that are in Christ Jesus' (Rom. 8:1). God is prepared to accept you in His blessed Son, and for His sake He will cast all your sins behind His back, and take you to glory when you die. Never was Jesus known to reject a poor sinner that came to Him empty and with nothing to pay. God will glorify His free grace by your salvation, and will therefore save you just as you are, without money and without price (Is. 55:1). I close with Paul's reply to the anxious jailor, 'Believe on the Lord Jesus, and thou shalt be saved' (Acts 16:31). No matter what you have been, or what you are, plunged into the fountain opened for sin, and for uncleanness (Zech. 13:1), and you shall be clean, 'washed whiter than snow' (Ps. 51:7). Heed no suggestion of Satan, or of unbelief; cast yourself at the feet of Jesus, and if you perish, perish there! Oh, no! Perish you never will, for He hath said, 'Him that cometh to me, I will in no wise cast out' (John 6:37). 'Come unto me' (Matt. 11:28) is His blessed invitation; let your reply be, 'Lord, I come! I come! I come! I entwine my feeble, trembling arms of faith around Thy cross, around Thyself, and if I die, I will die cleaving, clinging, looking unto Thee!' So act and believe and you need not fear to die. Looking at the Saviour in the face, you can look at death in the face, exclaiming with good old Simeon, 'Lord, now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace; for mine eyes have seen thy salvation' (Luke 2:29). May we through rich, free and sovereign grace, meet in Heaven, and unite in exclaiming, 'worthy is the Lamb, for he was slain for us' (Rev. 5:12)." "Until I saw the blood 'twas Hell my soul was fearing; And dark and dreary in my eyes the future was appearing, While conscience told its tale of sin And caused a weight of woe within. "But when I saw the blood, and looked at Him who shed it, My right to peace was seen at once, and I with transport read it, I found myself to God brought nigh And 'Victory' became my cry. "My joy was in the blood, the news of which had told me, That spotless as the lamb of God, my Father could behold me. And all my boast was in His name Through whom this great salvation came." IX ETERNAL LIFE THE PRESENT POSSESSION OF THE BELIEVER "Ye are not under the law."--Rom. 6:14. "Ye are all the children of God by faith in Christ Jesus."--Gal. 3:26. "Whosoever believeth that Jesus is the Christ is born of God."--1 John 5:1. "By grace have ye been saved through faith; and that not of yourselves; it is the gift of God: not of works, lest any one should boast."--Eph. 2:8, 9 (1911 Bible and R. V.) "He that believeth on the Son hath everlasting life."--John 3:36. "Verily, verily, I say unto you, he that heareth my word and believeth on him that sent me, hath everlasting life, and shall not come into condemnation, but is passed from death unto life."--John 5:24. "God has given to us eternal life, and this life is in his Son. He that hath the Son hath the life."--1 John 5:11, 12. It is an awe-inspiring thought, a wonderful, blessed reality, that every real believer on the Lord Jesus has, here and now, _eternal life_, not simply the promise of it, but the eternal life itself. The human mind cannot fully take it in, that every man, the moment he is redeemed from the curse of the law (Gal. 3:13), redeemed from all iniquity (Titus 2:14), redeemed from under the law (Rom. 6:14), and adopted as a child of God (Gal. 4:4-7), has then and there _everlasting life_ (John 5:24), a new life that is never, never to end; a life that will outlast the stars; a life that he will be consciously enjoying when all the stars shall have burnt out. And yet when such a life is offered as a gift ("I give unto them eternal life, and they shall never perish,"--John 10:28) many men will not repent and accept the gift. Religious prejudice, pride, secret sin, love of the world,--for what puny trifles do men turn from the greatest of all gifts, the greatest of all blessings, eternal life! Reader, will you be among the number who make this foolish, this fatal mistake? But with some the greatness of this gift, and its blessed reality, are obscured by the teaching that the believer on Christ has not everlasting life _now_, but only the _promise_ of it. When God's word tells us that the redeemed one, the believer on Christ, is not under the law (Rom. 6:14), is a child of God (Gal. 3:26), _has been_ saved (Eph. 2:8, 9, 1911 Bible and R. V.), not _will be_ saved, it would be strange that, after all, the believer should have only a promise for the beyond and no reality here and now. But God's word goes further and says, "Whosoever believeth that Jesus is the Christ _is born of God_."--1 John 5:1. _There cannot be birth without new life._ It is not the old life; that would mean no birth. If, then, the new life is not _eternal_ life, _what life is it_? If language can be made to mean anything, God's word makes it plain that every redeemed man, every believer on Christ, has _here and now_, eternal life; for God's word tells us, not only that "by grace _have ye been saved_" (Eph. 2:8, 9, 1911 Bible and R. V.), but it states plainly, "he that believeth on the Son _hath_ everlasting life" (John 3:36); "Verily, verily, I say unto you, he that heareth my word and believeth on him that sent me, _hath_ everlasting life and shall not come into condemnation, but is passed from death unto life."--John 5:24. That God's word does not mean that the believer on Christ has simply the _promise_ of everlasting life, but that he really has the everlasting life, notice John 5:24, "_Hath_ everlasting life and shall not come into condemnation, but _is passed_ [here and now] from death unto life." The Revised Version (the more exact translation) makes it much stronger,--"_hath passed_ out of death _into life_." What life, if not eternal life? Before this plain, positive statement of God's word, the mere promise of eternal life theory cannot stand. But the fact that the believer on Christ really has now eternal life, is made plain by other Scriptures. "Whosoever hateth his brother is a murderer; and ye know that no murderer hath eternal life _abiding in him_."--1 John 3:15. Here we are shown that when one "hath eternal life" it is "eternal life _abiding in him_"; for there would be no meaning to the language if no one has eternal life abiding in him. Again, "Verily, verily, I say unto you, except ye eat the flesh of the Son of man and drink his blood, ye have no life in you. Whoso eateth my flesh and drinketh my blood, hath eternal life."--John 6:53, 54. The Saviour had just taught in verse 35 what eating His flesh and drinking His blood meant: "I am the bread of life; he that cometh to me shall never hunger; and he that believeth on me shall never thirst." Here in verses 53, 54, the Saviour shows clearly that the eternal life that the believer on Him "_hath_" is "_in_" you--here and now. Let the unredeemed reader pause: in a moment, here and now, he can have _everlasting life_ with God's assurance that he "shall never perish" ("I give unto them eternal life, and they shall never perish."--John 10:28). It is a tremendous decision, and it may prove to be a fatal one, to turn away and not believe on Christ and have as a present possession eternal life. "Verily, verily, I say unto you, he that heareth my word, and believeth on him that sent me, _hath everlasting life, and shall not come into condemnation, but is passed from death unto life_."--John 5:24. _FOR FURTHER STUDY_:--Some who believe that the redeemed have only the _promise_ of eternal life, but that they have not eternal life, as a real present possession, base this belief on such Scriptures as, "In hope of eternal life, which God, who cannot lie, promised before the world began" (Titus 1:2), in connection with, "Hope that is seen is not hope; for what a man seeth, why doth he yet hope for? But if we hope for what we see not, then do we with patience wait for it."--Rom. 8:24, 25. Their thought is, if we live "in hope of eternal life," then we have not really eternal life as a present possession; that we cannot hope for what we already have. But Jesus said positively that the believer "_hath passed out_ of death _into_ life" (John 5:24, R. V.), and He contrasts the one who "_hath_ eternal life" with those to whom He says, "Ye have no life _in you_." A man can have eternal life here, and at the same time hope for it beyond the grave. A man has his wife and children _now_, and _hopes_ to have them next year; a man away from wife and children has his life _now_; and yet he lives in hope of his life (the same life, that part of it not yet lived) with his wife and children a month from now; an exile from home has his life now; yet lives in hope of his life (the same life, that part of it not yet lived) in his native land a year from now. So, the child of God's, the redeemed man's, citizenship is in Heaven (Phil. 3:20); he lives in hope of eternal life there; yet it is the same eternal life (that part of it not lived) that he has here and now. Another cause of stumbling at eternal life being now the actual possession of the redeemed man, is that many who claimed to have had eternal life, also claim to have lost it; and if it had been actually _eternal_ life it could not have stopped; for then eternal would not be really eternal; hence, it must have been simply the _promise_ of eternal life that they had, and they therefore only lost the _promise_ and not really eternal life itself. But Jesus, foreseeing this class of professing Christians, said that they were never really redeemed, never really had eternal life: "Many will say to me in that day, Lord, Lord, have we not prophesied in thy name? and in thy name have cast out demons? and in thy name done many wonderful works? and then will I profess unto them, I never knew you,"--Matt. 7:22, 23, not "you were redeemed, you did have eternal life, but you lost it; it stopped"; but "I never knew you," and John teaches the same thing in 1 John 2:19, "They went out from us, but they were not of us; for if they had been of us, they would have continued with us; but they went out that they might be made manifest that they all are not of us." (R. V.) "There is no such thing as partly saved and partly lost; partly justified and partly guilty; partly alive and partly dead; partly born of God and partly not. There are but two states, and we must be in either the one or the other."--_Wm. Reid, in "The Blood of Jesus."_ To many earnest men it seems dangerous to teach men that when they are redeemed from the curse of the law (Gal. 3:13), and adopted as God's children (Gal. 4:3-7), they then really have as an actual possession _eternal_ life, and that they shall never perish, "_hath_ everlasting life, and shall not come unto condemnation,"--John 5:24; "I give unto them _eternal_ life, and they shall never perish,"--John 10:28; they think that such a belief will be a temptation to sin; that it is liable to lead to presumptuous, wilful sinning. They think it much safer for men to believe that they have not really the eternal life itself as an actual present possession, but only the promise of it; and that by their sinning hereafter they may forfeit that promise and be lost. They think that this fear of being lost will act as a check, a safeguard, a restraining power. To the extent that it does, it produces service from the motive of fear of Hell, fear of losing Heaven, and not from the motive of love to Christ for having redeemed them from all iniquity (Titus 2:14). But God's word on this point is clear: "The love of Christ [_not_ the fear of Hell, nor the fear of losing Heaven] constraineth us; because we thus judge, that if one died for all, then all died; and he died for all that they who live should not henceforth live unto themselves, but unto him who died for them, and rose again."--2 Cor. 5:14, 15. The teaching that the redeemed, saved man has now eternal life and shall never perish, will lead to wilful, presumptuous sinning on the part of hypocrites, and may lead to indifference and sin on the part of those who honestly think they are redeemed, saved, but who really are not; for such are not born again (1 Peter 1:23), and have not the motive power of love, because really redeemed, prompting their action. Those who think it is dangerous to teach a redeemed (1 Peter 1:18, 19), saved (Eph. 2:8, R. V.) man, a child of God (Gal. 4:4-7), that he has here and now, as an actual possession, eternal life, and shall never perish (John 10:28), shall not come into condemnation (John 5:24), lose sight of five facts in _God's plan with men_:-- First, the redeemed man is born again, born of God, "Whosoever believeth that Jesus is the Christ is born of God."--1 John 5:1. "Therefore if any one is in Christ he is a new creature."--2 Cor. 5:17. This is not a mere theory. All down the centuries since the Saviour came, there have been multitudes of notable cases where hardened men and women, deep down in sin, have actually become new creatures by being redeemed and being born again. Many are now living, whose names could be given, who are widely known, who were once notorious in sin, and they are now willingly and gladly wearing out their lives in God's service, and are living godly lives: and this change came in their lives, not by a gradual process, but in a moment. God's word says it is a new birth. There is no other explanation. But every one who is redeemed is thus born of God (1 John 5:1), and this new nature will lead one to hate sin, and prompt to a godly life. Second, the redeemed man is under the new motive of love to Christ ("if ye love me, keep my commandments,"--John 14:15) to prompt him to a faithful Christian life. On this point James Denny in "The Death of Christ" says, "The love which is the motive of it acts immediately upon the sinful; gratitude exerts an irresistible constraint; His responsibility means our emancipation; His death, our life; His bleeding wound, our healing. Whoever says, 'He bore our sins,' says substitution; and to say substitution is to say something which involves an immeasurable obligation to Christ, and _has therefore in it an incalculable motive power_." Let the reader note well, that the purpose of God in saving men through Christ dying of their sins (1 Cor. 15:3) is to _purify the motive power_ and _make it effective_. "He died for all, that they who live should not henceforth live _unto themselves_, but _unto him_."--2 Cor. 5:15. When men live in order that they may retain the promise of eternal life, that they may attain eternal life hereafter, from fear lest they should forfeit the promise and not attain eternal life hereafter, they "live unto themselves." When men live because they already have as an actual possession, eternal life, and realize that it is eternal, they live from love, and not unto themselves but "_unto Him_." And God's plan is effective. "The love of Christ constraineth us" (2 Cor. 5:14), _it does constrain_. Hence, Jesus says, "if a man love me, _he will_ keep my words."--John 14:23. Again, "If God were your Father _ye would_ love me."--John 8:42. So important is this fact of the new motive power and its effectiveness, that the reader's attention will now be directed to the words of James Denny in "The Death of Christ" on this subject. That the reader may the better appreciate these words, his attention is first called to the estimates of Denny's great work by two of the leading religious editors of the world. The _Pittsburg Christian Advocate_: "To thoughtful students 'The Death of Christ' came as one of the most stirring books of the decade if not of the generation." The _New York Examiner_: "The most important contribution to the all-important doctrine of the atonement since the appearance of Dr. Dale's epoch-making book.... Exegetically considered, it is the most important book published within the memory of the younger generation of preachers." On the death of Christ for our sins (1 Cor. 15:3) being the motive power in the Christian life, and its being effective, Denny says: "The problem before us is to discover what it is in the death of Christ which gives it its power to generate such experience, to exercise on human hearts the constraining influence of which the apostle speaks; and this is precisely what we discover, in the inferential clause; 'so then all died.' This clause puts as plainly as it can be put the idea that His death was equivalent to the death of all; in other words, it was the death of all men which was died by Him."... "Their relation to God is not determined now _in the very least by sin or law_: it is determined by Christ, the propitiation, and by faith. The position of the believer is not that of one trembling at the judgment seat, or of one for whom everything remains somehow in a condition of suspense; it is that of one who has the assurance of a Divine love which has gone deeper than all his sins, and has taken on itself the _responsibility of them_, and _the responsibility of delivering him from them_."... "Take away the certainty of it and the New Testament temper expires. Joy in this certainty is not presumption; on the contrary, it is joy in the Lord, and such joy is the Christian's strength. It is the impulse and the hope of sanctification; and to deprecate it, and the assurance from which it springs, is no true evangelical humility, but a failure to believe in the infinite goodness of God who in Christ removes our sins from us as far as the east is from the west, and plants our life in His eternal reconciling love."... "An absolute justification is needed to give the sinner a start. He must have the certainty of 'no condemnation' of being, without reserve or drawback, right with God through God's gracious act in Christ, before he can begin to live the new life."... "_It is not by denying the gospel outright, from the very beginning, that we are to guard against the possible abuse of it._"... "To try to take some preliminary security from the sinner's future morality before you make the gospel available for him, is not only to strike at the root of assurance, it is to pay a very poor tribute to the power of the gospel. The truth is, morality is best guaranteed by Christ, and not by any precautions we can take before Christ gets a chance, or by any virtue that is in faith except as it unites the soul to Him."... "If it is our death that Christ died on the cross, there is in the cross the constraint of an infinite love; but if it is not our death at all--if it is not our burden and doom that He has taken on Himself there, then what is it to us?"... "He who has done so tremendous a thing as to take our death to Himself has established a claim upon our life. We are not in the sphere of mystical union, of dying with Christ and living with Him; but in that of love transcendently shown, and of gratitude profoundly felt."... "But this can only come on the foundation of the other; it is the discharge from the responsibilities of sin involved in Christ's death and appropriated in faith, which is the motive power in the daily ethical dying to sin."... "The new life springs out of the sense of debt to Christ."... "It is the knowledge that we have been bought with a price which makes us cease to be our own, and live for Him who so dearly bought us."... "But when its certainty, completeness, and freeness are so qualified or disguised that assurance becomes suspect and joy is quenched, the Christian religion has ceased to be."... "This is why St. Paul is not afraid to trust the new life to its own resources, and why he objects equally to supplanting it by legal regulations afterwards, or by what are supposed to be ethical securities beforehand. It does not need them, and is bound to repel them as dishonoring to Christ. To demand moral guarantees from a sinner before you give him the benefit of the atonement, or to impose legal restrictions on him after he has yielded to its appeal, and received it through faith, is to make the atonement itself of no effect."... "In any case, I do not hesitate to say that the sense of debt to Christ is the most profound and pervasive of all emotions in the New Testament, and that only a gospel which evokes this, as the gospel of atonement does, is true to primitive and normal Christianity." Let the reader consider two statements just here from another great work, concerning the effectiveness of love as the motive power in the redeemed man's life (in the writer's judgment no greater work, excepting the gospel of John [John 20:30, 31], has ever been written for honest sceptics, than Walker's "Philosophy of the Plan of Salvation"). "Just in proportion as the soul feels its lost, guilty and dangerous condition, in the same proportion will it exercise love to the being who grants spiritual favor and salvation."... "It may be affirmed, without hesitancy, that it would be impossible for the human soul to exercise full faith in the testimony that it was a guilty and needy creature, condemned by the holy law of a holy God, and that from this condition of spiritual guilt and danger Jesus Christ suffered and died to accomplish its ransom,--we say, a human being could not exercise full faith in these truths and not love the Saviour." Third, those who fear that if redeemed men, God's children, are taught that they have, here and now, eternal life as an actual present possession, and that it is eternal, it will be liable to lead them into presumptuous, wilful sin, lose sight of a third fact. The redeemed man, the real child of God, can be tempted, can be led into sin, and some of them do become backsliders, but God's word teaches that they will be chastised in this life. Let the reader turn back and read Chapter V. Two Scriptures there quoted make plain the chastening of God's disobedient children: "Also I will make him my firstborn, higher than the kings of the earth. My mercy will I keep for him forevermore, and my covenant shall stand fast with him. His seed also will I make to endure forever, and his throne as the days of heaven. If his children forsake my law, and walk not in my judgments, if they break my statutes and keep not my commandments, then will I visit their transgression with the rod and their iniquity with stripes. Nevertheless, my loving-kindness will I not utterly take from him, nor suffer my faithfulness to fail. My covenant will I not break, nor alter the thing that is gone out of my lips."--Ps. 89:27-34. Equally explicit is the New Testament: "Ye have forgotten the exhortation which speaketh unto you as unto sons. My son, despise not thou the chastening of the Lord, nor faint when thou art rebuked of him; for whom the Lord loveth he chasteneth, and scourgeth every son whom he receiveth. If ye endure chastening, God dealeth with you as with sons; for what son is he whom the father chasteneth not? But if ye be without chastening, whereof all are partakers, then are ye bastards and not sons. Furthermore, we have had fathers of our flesh, who corrected us, and we gave them reverence; shall we not much rather be in subjection to the Father of spirits and live? For they verily for a few days chastened us as seemed right to them; but he for our profit, _that we might be partakers of his holiness_. Now no chastening for the present seemeth to be joyous, but grievous; nevertheless afterwards it _yieldeth the peaceable fruit of righteousness_ unto them that are exercised thereby."--Heb. 12:5-11. So that, the disobedient child of God will suffer for his sins, not in Hell, but in this life; and not as a just penalty for violated law, for he is not under the law ("Ye are not under the law,"--Rom. 6:14), but as chastening, for correction. It is not a theory merely, for God's word declares that God's plan works--"It yieldeth the peaceable fruit of righteousness." Fourth, those who fear that teaching redeemed men, God's children, that they have, as a present possession, eternal life and not simply the promise of it, and who think that the safer course is to teach them that they have only the promise of eternal life and may forfeit it by unfaithfulness, lose sight of another fact, that the unfaithful redeemed one will lose his reward. Let the reader turn back and read Chapter VI. The Scripture teaching is plain, "If any man's work abide which he has built thereupon, he shall receive a reward. If any man's work shall be burned, he shall suffer loss; but he himself shall be saved, yet so as through fire."--1 Cor. 3:14, 15. He loses his reward who is unfaithful, but not his eternal life, because it is eternal, and because he has been redeemed from all iniquity (Titus 2:14). Fifth, those who, knowing that the redeemed man could not lose his eternal life, if he has it as a present possession, because it is eternal, believe that the redeemed have not really eternal life but only the promise of it and may forfeit the promise by unfaithfulness, and that it is dangerous to teach the redeemed that they really have eternal life because it might lead to wilful, presumptuous sin, lose sight of a fifth fact, that the child of God is not only redeemed from the curse of the law (Gal. 3:13), redeemed from under the law (Rom. 6:14), adopted as a child of God because redeemed from the law (Gal. 4:4-7), but that being redeemed, he is redeemed _from all iniquity_ ("Our Saviour Jesus Christ, who gave himself for us that he might _redeem us from all iniquity_."--Titus 2:13, 14). How can God, because He is just, let the redeemed man, if he is redeemed _from all iniquity_, be lost? "A young minister was in the habit of visiting an aged Scotch woman in his congregation who was familiarly called 'Old Nanny.' She was bed-ridden and rapidly approaching the end of her 'long and weary pilgrimage,' but she rested with undisturbed composure and full assurance of faith upon the finished work of Christ. One day he said to her, 'Now, Nanny, what if, after all your confidence in the Saviour and your watching and waiting, God should suffer your soul to be lost?' Raising herself on her elbow, and turning to him with a look of grief and pain, she laid her hand on the open Bible before her, and quietly replied, 'Ah, dearie me, is that the length you hae got yet, mon? God,' she continued earnestly, 'would hae the greatest loss. Poor Nannie would lose her soul, and that would be a great loss indeed; but God would lose His _honor_ and His _character_. Haven't I hung my soul upon His "exceeding great and precious promise"? and if He would break His word He would make Himself a liar, _and a' the universe would rush into confusion_.' This anecdote reveals the true ground of the believer's safety. It is as high as the honor of God; it is as trustworthy as His character; it is as immutable as His promises; it is as broad as the infinite merit of His Son's atoning blood."--_J. H. Brookes, in "The Way Made Plain."_ If God, "that he might be just and the justifier of him that believeth in Jesus" (Rom. 3:26), set forth Jesus Christ as a propitiation through faith in his blood (Rom. 3:25), and then should let one be lost who had been redeemed from all iniquity (Titus 2:14), would He not be as unjust in so doing as He would have been had He justified sinners without Christ dying for their sins (1 Cor. 15:3)? The blessed fact that the redeemed have as a present possession, here and now, eternal life, and that it is eternal, makes manifest another fact, that the redeemed are not unconscious, virtually out of existence, from death till the resurrection. The new life is eternal; it continues without cessation or intermission. Their bodies fall asleep; but their souls are still in conscious existence; it is _eternal life_. Paul makes this fact clear: "Whilst present in the body, we are absent from the Lord." "We are confident, I say, and well pleased rather to be absent from the body, and present with the Lord."--2 Cor. 5:6, 8. The same conscious life continues; it is eternal life. Again he makes it clear: "I am in a strait betwixt the two, having a desire to depart and to be with Christ, which is far better: nevertheless to abide in the flesh is more needful on your account."--Phil. 1:23, 24. The same conscious life continues, the eternal life. To depart and to be with Christ he says "_is far better_." But even this is not the perfect state. It is the soul without the body, enjoying eternal life with Christ. But God's perfect being is a being of redeemed soul and redeemed body enjoying the reward of its labor. The body will not be redeemed until the resurrection (Rom. 8:23; 1 Cor. 15:42); and the soul, though enjoying eternal life and with Christ (Phil. 1:23) will receive no reward until the resurrection,--"Thou shalt be _recompensed at the resurrection of the just_."--Luke 14:14. Paul further makes clear the distinction between the body sleeping and the soul not sleeping, because it has eternal life and is with Christ: "If we believe that Jesus died and rose again, even so them also that sleep in Jesus _will God bring with him_."--1 Thess. 4:14. Their bodies are asleep; their souls are "absent from the body and present with the Lord" (2 Cor. 5:8); but at the resurrection of their bodies, these "will God bring with him." Then, "at the resurrection of the just" (Luke 14:14) will "each man receive his own reward according to his own labor."--1 Cor. 3:8. Let this blessed teaching be a comfort to some hearts: the redeemed loved ones who have died are "present with the Lord" which "is far better." Then it is cruel selfishness to wish them back. X DEVELOPMENT OF CHARACTER IN THE REDEEMED "_The God of Jacob_ is our refuge."--Ps. 46:7. "Happy is he that hath _the God of Jacob_ for his help."--Ps. 146:5. "That the trial of your faith, being much more precious than of gold that perisheth, though it be tried with fire, might be found unto praise, and honor, and glory at the appearing of Jesus Christ."--1 Peter 1:7. "Let patience have her perfect work, that ye may be perfect and entire, wanting nothing."--James 1:14. "And we know that _all things_ work together for good to them that love God, to those who are the called according to his purpose."--Rom. 8:28. "The God of Jacob!" Not the God of Israel. Wonderful God! Blessed assurance, that "_the God of Jacob_ is our refuge,"--the God who saves the man without character, irrespective of character,--makes of him,--Israel. Jacob, the supplanter, the trickster, the weak character, the warped character, the sinner, God takes, and through trials, tests, develops him and makes of him Israel,--a prince of God. That is _God's plan with men_. Consider it. There are two theories, the poles apart. The one is, salvation by character; that by acquiring a suitable character, by developing the right kind of a character, man can be saved, can go to Heaven; that one's character, if of the proper kind, entitles him to Heaven; that if one has lived right, he will go to Heaven. The other theory is, that God by grace, pure unmerited favor, saves irrespective of character. It is a tremendous issue. It is vital; one or the other is fatal. If those who hold one theory go to Heaven, all who hold to the other will be lost, will go to Hell. We would as well face the issue. They are two widely different ways of salvation, and God has but one. Jesus said, "_I am the way_" (John 14:6), not one way, _The Way_. And He leaves no possible ground for misunderstanding the meaning, "No man cometh unto the Father, but by me."--John 14:6. Either, then, He is _the only way_, or He was the vilest deceiver the world ever knew, or He was a simple-minded, ignorant fanatic, who honestly thought Himself "The Way" when He was not. Against this theory of salvation by character there are four serious, fatal charges:-- First, it is utterly cruel, heartless and selfish. It is cruel, because to the weakest, most needy, most helpless class, the vast body of men, born of vicious, debased parents, reared amidst vice and sin, weakened by appetite and tied by habit, it does not give one-millionth the chance to be saved, to go to Heaven, that men have who were born of noble, godly parents, reared amidst moral, uplifting surroundings, and strengthened by noble aspirations and splendid training. Stand before you two young men representing these two classes, and tell them of life beyond this life, and of Heaven; and then tell them of salvation by character. To the one it would mean a bright, hopeful anticipation; to the other, it would mean but taunting him with his hopeless condition and prodding him with despair. The theory of salvation by character is heartless, because, wrapt in the robe of its own self-righteousness, it coolly condemns to hopeless despair a vast body of the human race. Go stand by the helpless, hopeless drunkard, and the drunken, sinful woman, and tell them of salvation by character, and hear the sob of despair or see the jeering look on their faces at the thought of salvation by character for such as they! Before a pastors' conference, the polished, brilliant, highly educated pastor of a wealthy, refined, intellectual congregation read a seemingly learned paper on "Salvation by Character." When he had finished reading the paper, some of his fellow-pastors endorsed the paper and gave it high praise. Finally, the pastor of a people who had been unfortunate in life, many of whom had gone far down in sin, and were fettered by habit, arose and said, "Brother Moderator, the brother has given us his wonderful paper on salvation by character. I would like to ask him, what would he preach if he were the pastor of a people who have no character?" The author of the paper arose and made the heartless reply, "Brother Moderator, my brother and I have been raised in such different intellectual atmospheres, that I don't suppose I could make it plain to my brother." The other replied, "That is doubtless true, Brother Moderator; but the trouble is, that he can never make it plain to any one else." It is selfish, because those who teach this theory are generally men of intelligence, refinement, and are considered, and they consider themselves, men of moral character. They thus provide for themselves by their theory, but leave a vast body of the race with a very slight hope or with no hope whatever. The second charge against those who hold this theory is that by their own theory none will be saved. If salvation is by character, by what kind of character, a perfect character, or an imperfect character? If by a perfect character, no one has it; no one even claims it. If by an imperfect character, how imperfect may it be and the man yet be saved? Where is the standard? If a man's character, in order to be saved by it, must be the best he can make it, no one has even that character,--no one's character is the best he could have made it. Hence, salvation by character is a chimera. The third charge against salvation by character is, that even if a man's character were perfect from man's standpoint, in the sight of God his character would still be corrupt. "All our righteousnesses are as filthy rags."--Is. 64:6. Why? Because motive is the measure of the character. "They that are in the flesh cannot please God."--Rom. 8:8. Why? Because they have not, and cannot have, the right motive. "Though I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, and have not love, I am become as sounding brass, or a clanging cymbal. And though I have the gift of prophecy, and understand all mysteries, and all knowledge; and though I have all faith, so that I could remove mountains, and have not love, I am nothing. And though I bestow all my goods to feed the poor, and though I give my body to be burned, and have not love, it profiteth me nothing."--1 Cor. 13:1-3. And no man has this love, no man can have this love, until he is saved by Christ dying for his sins (1 Cor. 15:3). "The love of Christ constraineth us; because we thus judge, that if one died for all, then all died; and he died for all, that they who live should not henceforth live unto themselves, but unto him who died for them, and rose again."--2 Cor. 5:14, 15. The fourth serious, fatal charge against the theory of salvation by character is that it is contrary to the teaching of the Saviour. "Jesus saith unto them, Verily I say unto you, that the publicans and the harlots go into the kingdom of God before you."--Matt. 21:31. Certain it is that the publicans and the harlots had worse characters than those to whom the Saviour was speaking; the fact is therefore evident that Jesus taught salvation without character, irrespective of character. Let the reader consider two cases that will show conclusively that the teaching of salvation by character is absolutely contrary to the teaching of the Saviour. "The chief priest, mocking him, with the scribes and elders, said: He saved others; himself he cannot save. If he is the King of Israel, let him now come down from the cross, and we will believe him. He trusted in God; let him deliver him now, if he will have him; for he said, I am the Son of God. The thieves also that were with him, cast the same in his teeth."--Matt. 27:41-44. Let the reader notice that both the thieves "that were with him, cast the same in his teeth." Then "one of the malefactors that were hanged railed on him, saying, If thou be Christ, save thyself and us. But the other answering rebuked him, saying, Dost not thou fear God, seeing thou art in the same condemnation? And we indeed justly; for we receive the due reward of our deeds; but this man hath done nothing amiss. And he said unto Jesus, Lord, remember me when thou comest into thy kingdom. And Jesus said unto him, Verily I say unto thee, To-day shalt thou be with me in Paradise."--Luke 23:39-43. From the time that both thieves "cast the same in his teeth," to the time the one made his earnest plea, "Lord, remember me when thou comest into thy kingdom," there had been no time in which this thief could have formed, developed a character that merited salvation. Hence, when Jesus said, "To-day shalt thou be with me in Paradise," to this thief, He branded the teaching of salvation by character as not from Heaven. The one who does not see from this case that the cruel, heartless, selfish teaching of salvation by character contradicts the Lord Jesus, will never see anything contrary to his own preferences and preconceived opinions. The second case is just as conclusive. As the Saviour was reclining at meat in the house of Simon the Pharisee, a woman, noted as a sinner, came in and stood behind him weeping. "And he said to the woman, Thy faith hath saved thee; go in peace."--Luke 7:50. The Saviour said the woman was saved, yet she was of notorious character,--she had no character. That the Saviour saved irrespective of character is shown by two cases in the book of Acts. We have the accounts of the salvation of two men of opposite characters. One was "A devout man, and one that feared God with all his house, who gave much alms to the people and prayed to God always,"--Acts 10:2, a man of most excellent character. Among all the unredeemed men of the earth, not one could show a better character. If any man could be saved by character, here is the man. God sends word to him, "Send to Joppa and call for Simon, whose surname is Peter, who shall tell the words whereby thou and all thy house shalt be saved."--Acts 11:13. Notwithstanding his noble, unusual character, God tells him that he is unsaved. If he, with his character unexcelled among unredeemed men, was yet unsaved, how can any other unredeemed man hope for salvation by character? Peter's message to this man of irreproachable character was, "To him give all the prophets witness, that through his name whosoever believeth on him shall receive remission of sins."--Acts 10:43. Why is it necessary for this man of character to believe on Christ in order to be saved? Because, though of unusual character, he had sinned, "for all have sinned" (Rom. 3:23); and sin once committed can only be atoned for by blood, "apart from shedding of blood there is no remission" (Heb. 9:22), and there is no blood of atonement in a noble character. Over against this case is that of the Philippian jailor, a man of hardened character; for he took two helpless, bleeding preachers who had been beaten by a mob, and "thrust them into the inner prison, and made their feet fast in the stocks" (Acts 16:24), and left them with their backs bloody and gave them no supper. When the earthquake came and the doors were opened, the hardened jailor started to commit suicide. Paul having called to him and prevented the suicide, the jailor "came trembling and fell down before Paul and Silas and brought them out and said, Sirs, what must I do to be saved?"--Acts 16:30. If ever a man should be told of salvation by character, here was the opportunity, that he might at once begin the tremendous and all but hopeless task of changing, so late in life, a hardened character into one that would enable him to merit Heaven. Instead, they said, "Believe on the Lord Jesus, and thou shalt be saved."--Acts 16:31. How similar the answer to the instructions of Peter to Cornelius, and yet how widely different the characters of the two men! Why this similarity? Because God has but one way of salvation, and that is irrespective of character. "He gathereth together _the outcasts_ of Israel" (Ps. 147:2), the God of Jacob. While the Saviour saves without character, and irrespective of character, God the Father does not leave them without character, but develops in them the right kind of a character. The man redeemed, saved, without character, does not remain without character. "And such _were_ some of you" (1 Cor. 6:11), but they did not remain such characters,--but "sanctified, called to be saints."--1 Cor. 1:2. _God's plan with men_, then, is to save irrespective of character, and then develop in the redeemed, saved man a character that shall "be found unto praise and honor and glory at the appearing of Jesus Christ."--1 Peter 1:7. Three ways in which God develops character in the redeemed are: First, by purifying the _motive_ of the life. Character is not formed by deeds, but by the motives prompting the deeds. Two men flag the night express train on two railroads; the deeds are the same, but one flags the train that he may warn, and save the lives of the people, because a bridge has been destroyed; the other flags the train that he may rob it. While the deeds are the same, the character of the deeds is different, and that difference is in the motive prompting the deed, and that motive affects, moulds the character of the one who performs the deed. No deed is right in the sight of God that is not performed from the motive of love (1 Cor. 13:1-3); hence, no character can be right in the sight of God if the deeds that formed that character were not prompted by the motive of love. All deeds performed from simply the motive of duty, or from the desire to be saved, to go to Heaven after this life, or from fear of Hell, are, in the sight of God, unworthy deeds, and the characters formed by such deeds are unworthy characters. And the Saviour defines clearly what love is: "There was a certain creditor who had two debtors; the one owed five hundred pence, and the other fifty. And when they had nothing to pay he frankly forgave them both. Tell me, therefore, which of them will love him most? Simon answered and said, I suppose that he to whom he forgave most. And he said unto him, Thou hast rightly judged."--Luke 7:41-43. And John likewise defines love: "Herein is love, not that we loved God, but that he loved us, and sent his Son to be the propitiation for our sins."--1 John 4:10. This explains why God says: "They that are in the flesh cannot please God."--Rom. 8:8. Their motive is wrong and they cannot have the right motive, because they have not been "forgiven most." Hence all characters are wrong in the sight of God that were formed by deeds whose prompting motive was a simple sense of duty, a desire to be saved, to go to Heaven, or from fear of Hell. And all who have such a character are lost, have never been redeemed, are not real Christians. Second, God develops character in the redeemed, His real children, by chastisements. Our earthly fathers "verily for a few days chastened us as seemed right to them; but he for our profit, that we might be partakers of his holiness. Now no chastening for the present seemeth to be joyous, but grievous; nevertheless afterwards it yieldeth the peaceable fruit of righteousness unto them that are exercised thereby."--Heb. 12:10, 11. Third, God moulds the character of the redeemed by afflictions, burdens, sorrows, etc. "Our light affliction, which is but for a moment, worketh for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory."--2 Cor. 4:17. "Let patience have its perfect work, that ye may be mature and complete, lacking in nothing."--James 1:14. The shallow conception of _God's plan with men_ that makes it His ultimate purpose simply to save men, leaves the life of the redeemed man here on earth an unsolved riddle, often an inexplicable tragedy. The heartaches, the disasters, the burdens, the afflictions, the sorrows,--what of all these, when God assures us that "all things work together for good to those that love God, to those who are the called according to his purpose" (Rom. 8:28), if the ultimate purpose is simply salvation? "He shall sit as a refiner and purifier of silver." The silver has been mined, digged from the earth, but there is dross in it. The redeemed have been redeemed from the curse of the law (Gal. 3:13); have had the spirit sent into their hearts ("because ye are sons, God hath sent forth the spirit of his Son into your hearts, crying, Abba, Father,"--Gal. 4:6); but there are defects from heredity, from environment. The purifying process, the development of character, comes, not in order to be saved, but after we are saved, because we are saved. With God as the Father of the redeemed, many of the afflictions, and sorrows of real Christians can be accounted for as chastisements; many of the severe, heavy afflictions in the lives of real Christians can be accounted for in this way. "Ye have forgotten the exhortation which speaketh unto you as unto sons, My son, despise not thou the chastening of the Lord, nor faint when thou art rebuked of him; for whom the Lord loveth he chasteneth, and _scourgeth every son_ whom he receiveth."--Heb. 12:5, 6. Scourging is severe, yet God says it is for _every son_. But there are many, many trials, afflictions, burdens, sorrows, which cannot be explained by chastisements; for chastisements are for wilful sins of God's children: "If his children _forsake_ my law ... then will I visit their transgression with the rod and their iniquity with stripes."--Ps. 89:30-32. In the lives of many of the redeemed who are living obedient lives there are some of the most severe trials and afflictions. If God is their Father and loves them, what can these severe trials and afflictions mean? "One adequate support For the calamities of mortal life Exists, one only,--an assured belief That the procession of our fate, however Sad or disturbed, is ordered by a being Of Infinite benevolence and power, Whose everlasting purposes embrace All accidents, converting them into good." Wordsworth. God Himself hath said it, "All things work together for good to those that love God, to those who are the called according to his purpose."--Rom. 8:28. Had God said, "Some things," what confusion would have come to many of God's children! What enigmas would many things in the lives of many of the redeemed have been! But when God said "All things," He placed a key in the hands of every redeemed man, every real child of His, with which to unlock the door of every mystery; that every trial, every disaster, every accident, every burden, every humiliation, every disappointment, every affliction, every sorrow,--"All things work together for good to those that love God, to those who are the called according to his purpose";--"that the trial of your faith, being much more precious than of gold that perisheth, though it be tried with fire, might be found unto praise, and honor, and glory, at the appearing of Jesus Christ."--1 Peter 1:7. Muscles are developed by trials; minds are developed by trials; God's redeemed people are developed by trials. To murmur against one's trials after being redeemed, means to murmur against being developed for one's eternal destiny. To give the muscles no trials, means for the body never to be developed; to give the mind no trials, means for the mind never to be developed; to give the redeemed man no trials, means for his character never to be developed. Two children are born into the world. The father and mother of one decide that he shall never be required to do any unpleasant things; that he shall never have any hardships. The father and mother of the other decide to give their child every unpleasant thing to do, every hardship and burden to bear, that will best develop him in body and mind. Often the redeemed plead with their Father in Heaven to give them only pleasant things, and He, the All-wise, All-powerful, in love gives them--trials. The trials of life for the redeemed are so various. If the muscles have only one trial, the body will never be fully developed. The muscles need various trials. If the mind has only one trial, it will never be fully developed. If the mind studies only one thing, it will never be trained, developed, educated. If the soul has only one kind of trial, it will never be developed. "Count it all joy, my brethren, when ye fall into manifold temptations."--James 1:2 (R. V. Margin, trials). But the redeemed, the children of God, often complain that their trials are so hard. Easy trials do not develop. The one who takes only light exercises for his muscles will never be fully developed physically. The boy who works the easy examples and skips the hard ones, will never be an educated man; he will be only a "hewer of wood and drawer of water." It takes hard trials to develop the body properly. It takes hard trials of the mind to develop it properly. It takes hard trials to develop the soul properly; "That the trial of your faith, being much more precious than of gold that perisheth, _though it be tried with fire_." He who asks for only easy trials of his muscles, asks to remain undeveloped physically; he who asks for easy trials of his mind, asks to remain undeveloped mentally; he who asks, yearns, to have no hard trials spiritually, yearns to remain undeveloped in real character, in his spiritual nature. The hard trials are the ones that develop. And the more one's muscles have been developed, the harder should be the trials for those muscles; the more one's mind is developed, the harder should be the trials for the mind; the more the redeemed man's spiritual nature is developed, the harder his trials will be. That would be an unwise educator who, after training the pupil's mind up through geometry, would then put him back to studying the simple branches of mathematics, instead of taking him on into higher mathematics. Likewise the Heavenly Father does not, after partly developing the redeemed, His children, by hard trials, return them to lives of easy trials, but He leads them into yet harder trials. Take Elijah as an example (see F. B. Meyer's "Elijah"). He is sent to pronounce God's sentence against Ahab (1 Kings 17:1); he is then sent into obscurity (17:2, 3); he is left dependent on the ravens for food (17:4-6); he sees the brook dry up, his only hope for water, for life (17:7); he is submitted to the humiliation of being supported by a poor widow (17:8, 9); God delays answering his prayer (17:17-22); God requires him to expose himself to danger by showing himself to Ahab (18:1); he is led to face popular religious error, and in doing so is left to stand alone (18:19-38); God delays answer to his prayer till he prays seven times (18:42-45); he suffers the further humiliation of Elisha being anointed prophet in his room (19:15, 16); he is taken up by a whirlwind to Heaven (2 Kings 2:11). A study of these trials will show that they were all hard trials, and that they increased in severity. God tells us that Elijah was a man subject to like passions as we are (James 5:17); but by trials, hardships, burdens, God developed him into one of the noblest characters of all ages. God's redeemed people may expect, then, trials through their lives, and that the trials shall be increasingly severe, as they advance in the Christian life. Often God's children are discouraged because they cannot see any purpose in their trials. But God assures us that there is a purpose. The child cannot understand the purpose of the lessons at school, but the father has the purpose. Elijah, possibly filled with apprehension, sitting by the drying brook Cherith, did not see any purpose, but God, who makes all things work together for good to His people, had the purpose and accomplished it in the development of Elijah's character; and so, as F. B. Meyer has so aptly put it, the redeemed, sitting by the drying brook of health, of property, of reputation, of family happiness, may not see the purpose, but the Heavenly Father will work, in His plan for each, every trial into the warp or woof of each life. The Saviour said to Peter, "What I do thou knowest not now, but thou shalt know hereafter."--John 13:7. "Behind our life the Weaver stands And works His wondrous will; We leave it all in His wise hands And trust His perfect skill. Should mystery enshroud His plan, And our short sight be dim, We will not try the whole to scan, But leave each thread to Him." Who knows the defects, the weaknesses, of each character? Only God. Who knows what each character ought to be? Only God. Who knows how to develop each character properly? Only God. Who is able to so shape the circumstances of each life as to properly develop each character? Only God. And He has promised that He will. "We know that all things work together for good to those who love God, to those who are the called according to his purpose" (Rom. 8:28); "that the trial of your faith, being much more precious than of gold that perisheth, though it be tried with fire, might be found unto praise, and honor, and glory at the appearing of Jesus Christ."--1 Peter 1:7. This is _the only_ explanation of the many harassments of life. God has revealed that the standard by which character is measured is patience, endurance. "Let patience have its perfect work, that ye may be mature and complete, lacking in nothing."--James 1:4. If there were no harassments, no afflictions, no burdens, no sorrows, no disappointments, no sufferings, there could be no patience, endurance; and if there were no patience, no endurance, there could be no maturity and completeness of character. As to what trials are needed, and are best in each case, only God can decide. In our dimsightedness we think that many things are mistakes in God's plans, and that He cannot bring good out of them; but He will. A boy was born with a badly deformed foot. When he was eight years of age his father had two surgeons to operate and try to straighten the foot, but they failed. After a second operation, the foot was placed in a brace which was worn for months. But the foot remained as badly deformed as ever. The surgeons then informed the father that the foot could never be straightened. The father studied the deformed foot for many days, and then had a strange-looking box made with screws, felt taps and iron rods in different parts of it. He had the surgeons to operate again on the boy's foot, cutting the muscles and tendons in different places. The foot was then placed in the strange box; a screw was turned till the felt tap pressed against the foot at one place, almost breaking the bones; then another screw and felt tap were brought to bear on another deformed part of the foot, straightening the foot and almost breaking the bones in that part of the foot; then the iron rod was used to straighten another part. For months the boy's foot was kept in that box. The suffering, day and night for months, was indescribable. The child would weep for hours, the pain being all but unbearable; and when the father would come home the child would beg piteously for the box to be taken off and to be left a cripple. The father, mingling his tears with the tears of the suffering child, would turn the screws tighter than before, and the child would shriek in fearful agony. During those weeks and months of suffering he looked upon his father as being harsh and cruel and without love for him. Finally the father loosened all the screws and said, "Son, stand up," and for the first time in his life the boy stood erect. Often has that son, now a gray-haired man, stood over the grave of that father, long since dead, and bedewed the grave with his tears, and thanked God that he had a father who was true enough to continue the suffering until the terrible deformity was corrected. The father may have turned the screws one thread too much, but the Father in Heaven makes no mistakes, and far beyond the grave many of the redeemed will praise Him, when they understand, for the sufferings and afflictions and burdens they were led to endure here. "Choose for us, Lord, nor let our weak preferring Cheat us of good Thou hast for us designed. Choose for us, Lord; Thy wisdom is unerring, And we are fools and blind." With the reader this may seem mere theory; he may feel that it cannot explain all the seemingly unfathomable mystery of suffering in the lives of many of the redeemed, the real children of God. Let the reader consider two things: first, that as a juror, he would not form a judgment till all the evidence had been placed before the jury. God's purpose in each case, and what God actually accomplishes in each case, in the development of character,--these have not yet been placed before the jury; but, backed up by many fulfilled prophecies, by the character of Jesus Christ, by His resurrection, by what He has accomplished in the world, we have God's solemn assurance that _He will yet place this evidence before the jury_. Second, let the reader remember that with God character counts more than comfort. What father would prefer his son to be a brutal, ignorant pugilist, enjoying food and drink, physical life,--to a useful, noble, highly educated, refined, learned son who could "listen in the orange groves of Verona to the sweet vows of Juliet, or to the blind bard's harp as he strikes the chords but seldom struck harmonious with the morning stars, or to the music of the spheres as they hymn His praises around their Creator's throne"? Far more than the earthly father would choose the latter for his son, does the Heavenly Father value the soul and its development above that of the body. Could God's redeemed people only learn that perfection of character comes only through suffering, that as certain as God is true, a blessing will come from every sorrow, every burden, every affliction, every pang, every heartache! "The ills we see-- The mystery of sorrow deep and long, The dark enigmas of permitted wrong, Have all one key-- This strange, sad world is but our Father's school; All chance and change His love shall grandly overrule." Rarely has the author been stirred, thrilled, as he was while listening to an audience of a thousand colored people of the South sing the following hymn. Some of them had been slaves; many were poor; many uneducated; some Greek scholars; some were destitute; some were half-invalids; some were aged and infirm; but few had the comforts of life; all were heavy burden-bearers. White people from New York and Texas, from Mississippi and Kansas, were moved to tears, as that audience sang with such rhythm, such cadence, such pathos, such sweetness, such soul-power, as only they can sing:-- "We are tossed and driven On the restless sea of time, Sombre skies and howling tempest Oft succeed the bright sunshine. In that land of perfect day When the mists have rolled away, We will understand it better by and by. "By and by when the morning comes And all the saints of God are gathered home, We'll tell the story, how we've overcome, For we'll understand it better by and by. "We are often destitute Of the things that life demands, Want of shelter and of food Thirsty hills and barren lands. We are trusting in the Lord, And according to His word, We will understand it better by and by. "Trials dark on every hand, And we cannot understand All the ways that God would lead us To the blessed promised land, But He guides us with His eye And we'll follow till we die, For we'll understand it better by and by. "Temptations, hidden snares, Often take us unawares, And our hearts are made to bleed For a thoughtless word or deed, And we wonder why the test When we try to do our best, But we'll understand it better by and by." But they are not the only ones who "Wonder why the test When we try to do our best." They are not the only ones who can say, "Trials dark on every hand And we cannot understand," But they and all the redeemed, God's real children, can say, "We will understand it better by and by." Till then they can rest upon His word, that "the trial of your faith, being much more precious than of gold that perisheth, though it be tried with fire, might be found unto praise and honor and glory at the appearing of Jesus Christ,"--1 Peter 1:7; for "we know that all things work together for good to those that love God, to those who are the called according to his purpose."--Rom. 8:28. "Thou art as much His care as if beside, Nor man nor angel lived in Heaven or Earth." _FOR FURTHER STUDY_:--Some readers may conclude, because trials come to the lives of the unredeemed as well as the redeemed, to those who are not God's children, as well as to those who are God's children, that, therefore, their characters are likewise developed by trials. Let such readers consider two facts:-- First, it is a creature of God being developed in one case; in the other, it is one who has been redeemed and adopted as a child of God (Gal. 4:4-7), and born of the Spirit (John 3:8), that is being developed. Second, the characters being developed in the two classes, while they may appear to men as similar, in the sight of God are as different as light and darkness are to men, as different as Heaven and Hell. Let it be remembered that character is dependent, not on the deed, but _on the motive back of the deed_ (1 Cor. 13:1-3). No unredeemed man can have that motive, because it springs from complete redemption through Christ (2 Cor. 5:14, 15). Hence, "they that are in the flesh cannot please God."--Rom. 8:8. Their motive power is all wrong and cannot be otherwise; hence their characters, however they may be developed, are all wrong in the sight of God. Jesus said, "Cleanse first the inside of the cup and of the platter, that the outside may be clean also."--Matt. 23:26. The child who, from love, bears trials and burdens placed upon him by the father, the slave who, from fear of the lash, bears trials and burdens placed upon him by the master, the hireling who, from desire for the wages, bears trials and burdens, and the stoic who, from sheer force of will, or from a cold sense of duty, bears trials and burdens, because he must,--are developing altogether different characters. Even so, the child of God, redeemed and adopted, who, from love, bears the trials and burdens of life, the unredeemed one who, from fear of the law, from fear of Hell, bears the trials and burdens of life; the unredeemed one who, from what he hopes to gain thereby, a home in Heaven (as the hireling his wages), bears the trials and burdens of life, and the unredeemed one who, from a cold sense of duty, bears the trials and burdens of life, are developing widely different characters for eternity. Which shall it be in your case, reader? PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA * * * * * * RELIGIOUS EDUCATION _HOMER S. BODLEY_ The Fourth "R" The Forgotten Factor in Education. $1.75. 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26397	----	MIRACLES AND SUPERNATURAL RELIGION BY JAMES MORRIS WHITON, PH.D. (YALE) _Portentum non fit contra naturam, sed contra quam est nota natura_ --AUGUSTINE New York THE MACMILLAN COMPANY LONDON: MACMILLAN & CO., LTD. 1903 _All rights reserved_ COPYRIGHT, 1903, BY THE MACMILLAN COMPANY. Set up, electrotyped, and published May, 1903. Norwood Press J. S. Cushing & Co.--Berwick & Smith Co. Norwood, Mass., U.S.A. Transcriber's Note: Minor typographical errors have been corrected without note. Variant spellings have been retained. {=e} represents e with upper macron. To M. B. W. PREFATORY NOTE While the present subject of discussion tempts to many an excursion into particulars, its treatment is restricted to general outlines, with an aim simply to clarify current ideas of miracle and the supernatural, so as to find firm holding ground for tenable positions in the present "drift period" of theology. The chief exception made to this general treatment is the discussion given to a class of miracles regarded with as much incredulity as any, yet as capable as any of being accredited as probably historical events--the raisings of the "dead." The insistence of some writers on the virgin birth and corporeal resurrection of Jesus as essential to Christianity has required brief discussion of these also, mainly with reference to the reasonableness of that demand. As to the latter miracle, it must be observed that in the Biblical narratives taken as a whole, whichever of their discordant features one be disposed to emphasize, the psychical element clearly preponderates over the physical and material. J. M. W. NEW YORK, April 11, 1903. CONTENTS PAGE INTRODUCTORY 13 THE ARGUMENT I The gradual narrowing of the miraculous element in the Bible by recent discovery and discussion.--The alarm thereby excited in the Church.--The fallacy which generates the fear.--The atheistic conception of nature which generates the fallacy.--The present outgrowing of this conception. 25 II The present net results of the discussion of the miraculous element in the Bible.--Evaporation of the former evidential value of miracles.--Further insistence on this value a logical blunder.--The transfer of miracles from the artillery to the baggage of the Church.--Probability of a further reduction of the list of miracles.--Also of a further transfer of events reputed miraculous to the domain of history. 37 III Arbitrary criticism of the Biblical narratives of the raising of the "dead."--Facts which it ignores.--The subject related to the phenomena of trance, and records of premature burial.--The resuscitation in Elisha's tomb probably historical.--Jesus' raising of the ruler's daughter plainly such a case.--His raising of the widow's son probably such.--The hypothesis that his raising of Lazarus may also have been such critically examined.--The record allows this supposition.--Further considerations favoring it: 1. The supposition threatens no real interest of Christianity.--2. Enhances the character of the act as a work of mercy.--3. Is independent of the belief of the witnesses of the act.--4. Is coherent with the general conception of the healing works of Jesus as wrought by a peculiar psychical power.--Other cases.--The resurrection of Jesus an event in a wholly different order of things.--The practical result of regarding these resuscitations as in the order of nature. 47 IV A clearer conception of miracle approached.--Works of Jesus once reputed miraculous not so reputed now, since not now transcending as once the existing range of knowledge and power.--This transfer of the miraculous to the natural likely to continue.--No hard and fast line between the miraculous and the non-miraculous.--Miracle a provisional word, its application narrowing in the enlarging mastery of the secrets of Nature and of life. 75 V Biblical miracles the effluence of extraordinary lives.--Life the world's magician and miracle-worker; its miracles now termed _prodigies_.--Miracle the natural product of an extraordinary endowment of life.--Life the ultimate reality.--What any man can achieve is conditioned by the psychical quality of his life.--Nothing more natural, more supernatural, than life.--The derived life of the world filial to the self-existent life of God; "begotten, not made."--Miracle as the product of life, the work of God. 85 VI The question, old and new, now confronting theologians.--Their recent retreat upon the minimum of miracle.--The present conflict of opinion in the Church.--Its turning-point reached in the antipodal turn-about in the treatment of miracles from the old to the new apologetics.--Revision of the traditional idea of the supernatural required for theological readjustment. 95 VII Account to be made of the law of atrophy through disuse.--The virgin birth and the corporeal resurrection of Jesus, the two miracles still insisted on as the irreducible minimum, affected by this law.--The vital truths of the incarnation and immortality independent of these miracles.--These truths now placed on higher ground in a truer conception of the supernatural.--The true supernatural is the spiritual, not the miraculous.--Scepticism bred from the contrary view.--The miracle-narratives, while less evidential for religion, not unimportant for history.--Psychical research a needed auxiliary for the scientific critic of these. 107 VIII The cardinal point in the present discussion the reality not of miracles, but of the supernatural.--Fallacy of pointing to physical events as essential characteristics of supernatural Revelation.--The character of a revelation determined not by its circumstances, but by its contents.--Moral nature supernatural to physical.--Nature a hierarchy of natures.--Supernatural Religion historically attested by the moral development it generates.--Transfer of its distinctive note from moral ideals to physical marvels a costly error.--Jesus' miracles _a_ revelation, of a type common with others before and after.--The unique Revelation of Jesus was in the higher realm of divine ideas and ideals.--These, while unrealized in human life, still exhibit the fact of a supernatural Revelation.--The distinction of natural and supernatural belongs to the period of moral progress up to the spiritual maturity of man in the image of God.--The divine possibilities of humanity, imaged in Jesus, revealed as our inheritance and our prize. 131 INTRODUCTORY In a historical retrospect greater and more revolutionary changes are seen to have occurred during the nineteenth century than in any century preceding. In these changes no department of thought and activity has failed to share, and theological thought has been quite as much affected as scientific or ethical. Especially remarkable is the changed front of Christian theologians toward miracles, their distinctly lowered estimate of the significance of miracle, their antipodal reverse of the long established treatment of miracles. Referring to this a British evangelical writer[1] observes that "the intelligent believer of our own day, ... instead of accepting Christianity on the ground of the miracles, accepts it in spite of the miracles. Whether he admits these miracles, or rejects them, his attitude toward them is toward difficulties, not helps." By this diametrical change of Christian thought a great amount of scepticism has already been antiquated. A once famous anti-Christian book, _Supernatural Religion_, regarded as formidable thirty years ago, is now as much out of date for relevancy to present theological conditions as is the old smooth-bore cannon for naval warfare. That many, indeed, are still unaware of the change that has been experienced by the leaders of Christian thought, no one acquainted with current discussions will deny; the fact is indubitable. It is reviewed in the following pages with the constructive purpose of redeeming the idea of supernatural Religion from pernicious perversion, and of exhibiting it in its true spiritual significance. The once highly reputed calculations made to show how the earth's diurnal revolution could be imperceptibly stopped for Joshua's convenience, and the contention that the Mediterranean produced fish with gullets capable of giving passage to Jonah, are now as dead as the chemical controversy about phlogiston. Yet some sceptical controversialists are still so far from cultivating the acquaintance with recent thought which they recommend to Christian theologians, as to persist in affirmations of amazing ignorance, _e.g._ "It is admitted that miracles alone can attest the reality of divine revelation."[2] Sponsors for this statement must now be sought among unlearned Christians, or among a few scholars who survive as cultivators of the old-fashioned argument from the "evidences." Even among these latter the tendency to minimize miracle is undeniably apparent in a reduction of the list classified as such, and still more in the brevity of the list insisted on for the attestation of Christianity. A transitional state of mind is clearly evidenced by the present division and perplexity of Christian thought concerning the Christian miracles. Many seem to regard further discussion as profitless, and are ready to shelve the subject. But this attitude of weariness is also transitional. There must be some thoroughfare to firm ground and clear vision. It must be found in agreement, first of all, on the real meaning of a term so variously and vaguely used as _miracle_. In the present imperfect state of knowledge it may be impossible to enucleate miracle, however defined, of all mystery. But even so will much be gained for clear thinking, if miracle can be reasonably related to the greater mystery which all accept, though none understand,--the mystery of _life_. This view of the dynamic relation of life to miracle[3] is here suggested for what it may prove to be worth. The great and general change that transfigured theology during the nineteenth century was characteristically ethical. This, indeed, is the distinctive feature of the so-called new theology, in contrast with that which the Protestant Reformers inherited from St. Augustine. God and Man, Faith, Salvation and Inspiration, Redemption and Atonement, Judgment and Retribution,--all these themes are now presented in orthodox pulpits far more conformably to ethical principles, though in degrees varying with educated intelligence, than was customary in the sermons of half a century ago. "One great source and spring of theological progress," says Professor Bowne, in his recent work on _Theism_, "has been the need of finding a conception of God which the moral nature could accept. The necessity of moralizing theology has produced vast changes in that field; and the end is not yet." The ethical character of the theological change will perhaps be most obvious in the field of Biblical study, to which the present subject belongs. The traditional solution of such moral difficulties in the Old Testament as commands, ostensibly divine, to massacre idolaters has been quite discarded. It is no longer the mode to say that deeds seemingly atrocious were not atrocious, because God commanded them. Writers of orthodox repute now say that the _Thus saith the Lord_, with which Samuel prefaced his order to exterminate the Amalekites, must be understood subjectively, as an expression of the prophet's belief, not objectively, as a divine command communicated to him. This great change is a quite recent change. If a personal reference may be indulged, it is not twenty years since the present writer's published protest against "The Anti-Christian Use of the Bible in the Sunday School,"[4] the exhibition to children of some vestiges of heathen superstition embedded in the Old Testament narratives as true illustrations of God's ways toward men, drew forth from a religious journal a bitter editorial on "The Old Testament and its New Enemies." But a great light has since dawned in that quarter. It is no longer deemed subversive of faith in a divine Revelation to hold that the prophet Gad was not infallible in regarding the plague which scourged Jerusalem as sent to punish David's pride in his census of the nation. A significant fact is presented in the comparison of these two aspects of the theological change that has come to pass,--the growing importance of the ethical, and the dwindling importance of the miraculous in the religious thought of to-day. This may reassure those who fear whereto such change may grow. The inner significance of such a change is most auspicious. It portends the displacement of a false by the true conception of supernatural Religion, and the removal thereby of a serious antagonism between Science and Christian Theology, as well as of a serious hindrance of many thoughtful minds from an intelligent embrace of Christianity. FOOTNOTES: [1] Professor W. T. Adeney in the _Hibbert Journal_, January, 1903, p. 302. [2] See the recent new edition of _Supernatural Religion_, "carefully revised." [3] For an earlier statement of this by the present writer, see a discourse on "Miracle and Life," in _New Points to Old Texts_. London: James Clarke & Co., 1889. New York: Thomas Whittaker. [4] _The New Englander_, September, 1884. MIRACLES AND SUPERNATURAL RELIGION I I SYNOPSIS.--The gradual narrowing of the miraculous element in the Bible by recent discovery and discussion.--The alarm thereby excited in the Church.--The fallacy which generates the fear.--The atheistic conception of nature which generates the fallacy.--The present outgrowing of this conception. It is barely forty years since that beloved and fearless Christian scholar, Dean Stanley, spoke thus of the miracles recorded of the prophet Elisha: "His works stand alone in the Bible in their likeness to the acts of mediæval saints. There alone in the Sacred History the gulf between Biblical and Ecclesiastical miracles almost disappears."[5] It required some courage to say as much as this then, while the storm of persecution was raging against Bishop Colenso for his critical work on the Pentateuch. The evangelical clergymen in England and the United States then prepared to confess as much as this, with all that it obviously implies, could have been seated in a small room. But time has moved on, and the Church, at least the scholars of the Church, have moved with it. No scholar of more than narrowly local repute now hesitates to acknowledge the presence of a legendary element both in the Old Testament and in the New. While the extent of it is still undetermined, many specimens of it are recognized. It is agreed that the early narratives in Genesis are of this character, and that it is marked in such stories as those of Samson, Elijah, and Elisha. Even the conservative revisers of the Authorized Version have eliminated from the Fourth Gospel the story of the angel at the pool of Bethesda, and in their marginal notes on the Third Gospel have admitted a doubt concerning the historicity of the angel and the bloody sweat in Gethsemane. Furthermore, some events, recognized as historical, have been divested of the miraculous character once attributed to them,--the crossing of the Red Sea, for instance, by the Hebrew host. A landslip in the thirteenth century A.D. has been noted as giving historical character to the story of the Hebrew host under Joshua's command crossing the Jordan "on dry ground," but in a perfectly natural way. Other classes of phenomena once regarded as miraculous have been transferred to the domain of natural processes by the investigations and discoveries that have been made in the field of psychical research. The forewarning which God is said to have given the prophet Ahijah of the visit that the queen was about to pay him in disguise[6] is now recognized as one of many cases of the mysterious natural function that we label as "telepathy." The transformations of unruly, vicious, and mentally disordered characters by hypnotic influence that have been effected at the Salpêtrière in Paris, and elsewhere, by physicians expert in psychical therapeutics are closely analogous to the cures wrought by Jesus on some victims of "demoniac possession."[7] The cases of apparition,[8] also, which have been investigated and verified by the Society for Psychical Research have laid a solid basis of fact for the Biblical stories of angels, as at least, a class of phenomena to be regarded as by no means altogether legendary, but having their place among natural though mysterious occurrences. But this progressive paring down of the miraculous element in the Bible has caused outcries of unfeigned alarm. Christian scholars who have taken part in it are reproached as deserters to the camp of unbelief. They are accused of banishing God from his world, and of reducing the course of events to an order of agencies quite undivine. "Miracle," writes one of these brethren,[9] "is the personal intervention of God into the chain of cause and effect." But what does this mean, except that, when no miracles occur, God is not personally, _i.e._ actively, in the chain of natural causes and effects? As Professor Drummond says, "If God appears periodically, he disappears periodically." It is precisely this view of the subject that really banishes God from his world. Those who thus define miracle regard miracles as having ceased at the end of the Apostolic age in the first century. Except, therefore, for the narrow range of human history that the Bible covers in time and place, God has not been personally in the chain of natural causes and effects. Thus close to an atheistic conception of nature does zeal for traditional orthodoxy unwittingly but really come. The first pages of the Bible correct this error. "While the earth remaineth," so God is represented as assuring Noah, "seedtime and harvest, and cold and heat, and summer and winter, and day and night, shall not cease." The presence of God in his world was thus to be evinced by his regular sustentation of its natural order, rather than by irregular occurrences, such as the deluge, in seeming contravention of it. To seek the evidence of divine activity in human affairs and to ground one's faith in a controlling Providence in sporadic and cometary phenomena, rather than in the constant and cumulative signs of it to be seen in the majestic order of the starry skies, in the reign of intelligence throughout the cosmos, in the moral evolution of ancient savagery into modern philanthropy, in the historic manifestation throughout the centuries of a Power not our own that works for the increase of righteousness, is a mode of thought which in our time is being steadily and surely outgrown. It is one of those "idols of the tribe" whose power alike over civilized and uncivilized men is broken less by argument than by the ascent of man to wider horizons of knowledge. It is for the gain of religion that it should be broken,--of the spiritual religion whose God is not a tradition, a reminiscence, but a living presence, inhabiting alike the clod and the star, the flower in the crannied wall and the life of man. So thinking of God the religious man may rightly say,[10] "If it is more difficult to believe in miracles, it is less important. If the extraordinary manifestations of God recounted in ancient history appear less credible, the ordinary manifestations of God in current life appear more real. He is seen in American history not less than in Hebrew history; in the life of to-day not less than in the life of long ago." FOOTNOTES: [5] _Lectures on the History of the Jewish Church_, Vol. II, p. 362, American edition. [6] 1 Kings xiv. 1-7. [7] It is not intended to intimate that there is no such darker reality as a "possession" that is "demoniac" indeed. It cannot be reasonably pronounced superstitious to judge that there is some probability for that view. At any rate, it is certain that the problem is not to be settled by dogmatic pronouncement. It is certain, also, that the burden of proof rests on those who contend that there can be no such thing. On the other hand, it may be conceded that the cases recorded in the New Testament do not seem to be of an essentially devilish kind. On the general subject of "possession" see F. W. H. Myers's work on _Human Personality and Survival after Death_, Vol. I. (Longmans, Green & Co., New York and London.) Professor William James half humorously remarks: "The time-honored phenomenon of diabolical possession is on the point of being admitted by the scientist as a fact, now that he has the name of hysterodemonopathy by which to apperceive it." _Varieties of Religious Experience_, p. 501, note. [8] See _Dictionary of Psychology_, art. "Psychical Research." [9] Dr. Peloubet, _Teachers' Commentary on the Acts_, 1902. [10] Dr. Lyman Abbott in _The Outlook_, February 14, 1903. II II SYNOPSIS.--The present net results of the discussion of the miraculous element in the Bible.--Evaporation of the former evidential value of miracles.--Further insistence on this value a logical blunder.--The transfer of miracles from the artillery to the baggage of the Church.--Probability of a further reduction of the list of miracles.--Also of a further transfer of events reputed miraculous to the domain of history. The cultivation of scientific and historical studies during the last century, especially in its latter half, has deepened the conviction that "Through the ages one increasing purpose runs;" has disposed a growing number of thoughtful minds to regard occasional signs and wonders, reported from ancient times, as far less evidential for the reasonableness of religious faith than the steady sustentation of the Providential order and the moral progress of the world. Fully convinced of this, we should now estimate, before proceeding further, the present net results of the discussion, so far as it has gone, of what is called the miraculous element in the Bible. First, its former evidential value in proof of divine Revelation is gone for the men of to-day. The believer in a divine Revelation does not now, if he is wise, rest his case at all on the miracles connected with its original promulgation, as was the fashion not very long since. This for two reasons; chiefly this: that _the decisive criterion of any truth, ethical or physical, must be truth of the same kind_. Ethical truth must be ethically attested. The moral and religious character of the Revelation presents its credentials of worth in its history of the moral and religious renovations it has wrought both in individuals and in society. This is its proper and incontrovertible attestation, in need of no corroboration from whatever wonderful physical occurrences may have accompanied its first utterance. Words of God are attested as such by the work of God which they effect. It may well be believed that those wonderful occurrences--the Biblical name for which is "signs," or "powers," terms not carrying, like "miracles," the idea of something contra-natural[11]--had an evidential value for those to whom the Revelation originally came. In fact, they were appealed to by the bearers of the Revelation as evidencing its divine origin by the mighty works of divine mercy which they wrought for sufferers from the evils of the world. But whatever their evidential value to the eye-witnesses at that remote day, it was of the inevitably volatile kind that exhales away like a perfume with lapse of time. Historic doubts attack remote events, especially when of the extraordinary character which tempts the narrator to that magnifying of the marvellous which experience has found to be a constantly recurring human trait. It is simply impossible that the original evidential value of the "signs" accompanying the Revelation should continue permanently unimpaired. To employ them now as "evidences of Christianity," when the Revelation has won on ethical grounds recognition of its divine character and can summon history to bear witness of its divine effects in the moral uplift of the world, is to imperil the Christian argument by the preposterous logical blunder of attempting to prove the more certain by the less certain. A second net result consequent on the preceding may be described as the transference of miracles from the ordnance department to the quartermaster's department of the Church. Until recently they were actively used as part of its armament, none of which could be dispensed with. Now they are carried as part of its baggage, _impedimenta_, from which everything superfluous must be removed. It is clearly seen that to retain all is to imperil the whole. That there are miracles and miracles is patent to minds that have learned to scan history more critically than when a scholar like John Milton began his _History of England_ with the legend of the voyage of "Brute the Trojan." One may reasonably believe that Jesus healed a case of violent insanity at Gadara, and reasonably disbelieve that the fire of heaven was twice obedient to Elijah's call to consume the military companies sent to arrest him. Cultivated discernment does not now put all Biblical miracles on a common level of credibility, any more than the historical work of Herodotus and that of the late Dr. Gardiner. To defend them all is not to vindicate, but to discredit all alike. The elimination of the indefensible, the setting aside of the legendary, the transference of the supposedly miraculous to the order of natural powers and processes so far as vindicable ground for such critical treatment is discovered, is the only way to answer the first of all questions concerning the Bible: How much of this is credible history? Thus it is not only thoroughly reasonable, but is in the interest of a reasonable belief that divine agency is revealed rather by the upholding of the established order of Nature than by any alleged interference therewith. With what God has established God never interferes. To allege his interference with his established order is virtually to deny his constant immanence therein, a failure to recognize the fundamental fact that "Nature is Spirit," as Principal Fairbairn has said, and all its processes and powers the various modes of the energizing of the divine Will. A third net result now highly probable is a still further reduction of the list of reputed miracles. The critical process of discriminating the historical from the legendary, and the natural from the non-natural, is still so comparatively recent that it can hardly be supposed to have reached its limit. Nor can it be stayed by any impeachment of it as hostile to Christianity, whose grand argument appeals to its present ethical effects, not to ancient thaumaturgical accompaniments. There is, however, a considerable class of cases in which the advancing critical process is likely even to gain credibility for the Biblical narrative in a point where it is now widely doubted--the resuscitations of the apparently dead. Among all the Biblical miracles none have more probably a secure historical basis. FOOTNOTES: [11] The Anglicized Latin word, "miracle," indiscriminately used in the Authorized Version, denotes the superficial character of the act or event it is applied to, as producing wonder or amazement in the beholders. The terms commonly employed in the New Testament (_s{=e}meion_, a sign; _dunamis_, power; less frequently _teras_, a portent) are of deeper significance, and connote the inner nature of the occurrence, either as requiring to be pondered for its meaning, or as the product of a new and peculiar energy. III III SYNOPSIS.--Arbitrary criticism of the Biblical narratives of the raising of the "dead."--Facts which it ignores.--The subject related to the phenomena of trance, and records of premature burial.--The resuscitation in Elisha's tomb probably historical.--Jesus' raising of the ruler's daughter plainly a case of this kind.--His raising of the widow's son probably such.--The hypothesis that his raising of Lazarus may also have been such critically examined.--The record allows this supposition.--Further considerations favoring it: 1. The real interests of Christianity secure.--2. The miracle as a work of mercy.--3. Incompetency of the bystanders' opinion.--4. Congruity with the general conception of the healing works of Jesus, as wrought by a peculiar psychical power.--Other cases.--The resurrection of Jesus an event in a wholly different order of things.--The practical result of regarding these resuscitations as in the order of nature. Of resuscitation from apparent death seven cases in all are recorded,--three in the Old Testament and four in the New. Some critics arbitrarily reject all but one of these as legendary. Thus Oscar Holzmann, in his recent _Leben Jesu_, treats the raising of the widow's son, and of Lazarus. But he accepts the case of the ruler's daughter on the ground that Jesus is reported as saying that it was not a case of real but only of apparent death,--"the child is not dead, but sleepeth." But for the preservation of this saving declaration in the record, this case also would have been classed with the others as unhistorical. And yet the admission of one clear case of simulated death, so like real death as to deceive all the onlookers but Jesus, might reasonably check the critic with the suggestion that it may not have been a solitary case.[12] The headlong assumption involved in the discrimination made between these two classes, viz. that in a case of apparent but unreal death the primitive tradition can be depended on to put the fact upon record, is in the highest degree arbitrary and unwarrantable. The scepticism which lightly contradicts the Biblical narratives of the raising of the "dead" to life is seemingly ignorant of facts that go far to place these upon firm ground as historical occurrences. Catalepsy, or the simulation of death by a trance, in which the body is sometimes cold and rigid, sensation gone, the heart still, is well known to medical men.[13] In early times such a condition would inevitably have been regarded and treated as actual death, without the least suspicion that it was not so. Even now, the dreadful mistake of so regarding it sometimes occurs. So cautious a journal as the London _Spectator_ a few years ago expressed the belief that "a distinct percentage" of premature burials "occurs every year" in England. The proper line of critical approach to the study of the Biblical narratives of the raising of the "dead" is through the well-known facts of the deathlike trance and premature burial. Where burial occurred, as in the East, immediately after the apparent death,[14] resuscitation must have been rare. Yet cases of it were not unknown. Pliny has a chapter "on those who have revived on being carried forth for burial." Lord Bacon states that of this there have been "very many cases." A French writer of the eighteenth century, Bruhier, in his "_Dissertations sur l'Incertitude de la Mort et l'Abus des Enterrements_," records seventy-two cases of mistaken pronouncement of death, fifty-three of revival in the coffin before burial, and fifty-four of burial alive. A locally famous and thoroughly attested case in this country is that of the Rev. William Tennent, pastor in Freehold, New Jersey, in the eighteenth century, who lay apparently dead for three days, reviving from trance just as his delayed funeral was about to proceed. One who keeps a scrap-book could easily collect quite an assortment of such cases, and of such others as have a tragic ending, both from domestic and foreign journals. A work published some years ago by Dr. F. Hartmann[15] exhibits one hundred and eight cases as typical among over seven hundred that have been authenticated.[16] Facts like these have been strangely overlooked in the hasty judgment prompted by prejudice against whatever has obtained credence as miraculous. Some significant considerations must be seriously entertained. It cannot be that no such facts occurred in the long periods covered by the Biblical writers. Occurring, it is extremely improbable that they should have altogether escaped embodiment in popular tradition and its record. Furthermore, while on one hand the custom of speedy burial rendered them much rarer than they are now under other conditions, and so much the more extraordinary, the universal ignorance of the causes involved would have accepted resuscitation as veritable restoration from actual death. As such it would have passed into tradition. In cases where it had come to pass in connection with the efforts of a recognized prophet, or through any contact with him, it would certainly have been regarded as a genuine miracle. Among the raisings of the "dead" recorded in the Scriptures probably none has been so widely doubted by critical readers as the story in the thirteenth chapter of the second book of Kings, in which a corpse is restored to life by contact with the bones of Elisha. Dean Stanley's remark upon the suspicious similarity between the miracles related of Elisha and those found in Roman Catholic legends of great saints here seems quite pertinent. Let the record speak for itself. "And Elisha died and they buried him. Now the bands of the Moabites invaded the land at the coming in of the year. And it came to pass, as they were burying a man, that, behold, they spied a band; and they cast the man into the sepulchre of Elisha; and as soon as the man touched the bones of Elisha, he revived, and stood up on his feet." The bizarre character of such a story excusably predisposes many a critic to stamp it as fabricated to enhance the glory of the great prophet who had been a pillar of the throne. Yet nothing is more likely than that tradition has here preserved a bit of history, extraordinary, but real. There is not the least improbability in regarding the case as one of the many revivals from the deathlike trance that have been noted by writers ancient and modern. It is entirely reasonable to suppose that the trance in which the seemingly dead man lay was broken either by the shock of his fall into the prophet's tomb, or coincidently therewith; and stranger coincidences have happened. Such a happening would be precisely the sort of thing to live in popular tradition, and to be incorporated into the annals of the time. Here it may be rejoined that this is only a hypothesis. Only that, to be sure. But so is the allegation that the story is a mere fantastic fabrication only a hypothesis. Demonstration of the actual fact past all controversy being out of the question, all that can be offered for the attempt to rate the narrative at its proper value, either as history or as fiction, is hypothesis. The choice lies for us between two hypotheses. Surely, that hypothesis is the more credible which is based on a solid body of objective facts, and meets all the conditions of the case. Will it be replied to this that the critics can show for their hypothesis the admitted fact of the human proclivity to invent legends of miracle? The decisive answer is that the burden of proof rests on him who contests any statement ostensibly historical. If such a statement be found to square with admitted objective facts, it must be accepted notwithstanding considerations drawn from the subjective tendency to invent extraordinary tales. Were raisings of the "dead" recorded in the Old Testament alone, objection would less often be offered to this transference of them, along with other occurrences once deemed miraculous, to a place in the natural order of things. The statistics of premature burial and of the resuscitation of the apparently dead before burial are sufficiently strong to throw grave doubt on any contention that the resuscitations narrated of Elijah[17] and Elisha[18] do not belong in that historical series. It has been frequently observed, however, that there is much reluctance to apply to the New Testament the methods and canons of criticism that are applied to the Old. It will be so in the present case, through apprehension of somehow detracting from the distinctive glory of Christ. That fear will not disturb one who sees that glory not in his "mighty works," the like of which were wrought by the prophets, but in the spiritual majesty of his personality, the divineness of his message to the world, and of the life and death that illustrated it. One case, at least, among Jesus' raisings of the "dead," that of the young daughter of the ruler of the synagogue,[19] is admitted even by sceptical critics to have been a resuscitation from the trance that merely simulates death. But the fact that there is a record of his saying in this case, "the child is not dead, but sleepeth," and no record of his saying the same at the bier of the widow's son,[20] is slight ground, yet all the ground there is, against the great probabilities to the contrary, for regarding the latter case as so transcendently different from the former as the actual reëmbodiment of a departed spirit recalled from another world. Were these the only two cases of restoration to life in the ministry of Jesus, it is most probable that they would be regarded as of the same kind. The raising of Lazarus[21] presents peculiar features, in view of which it is generally regarded as of another kind, and the greatest of miracles, so stupendous that the Rev. W. J. Dawson, in his recent _Life of Christ_, written from an evangelical standpoint, says of it: "Even the most devout mind may be forgiven occasional pangs of incredulity." But the considerations already presented are certainly sufficient to justify a reëxamination of the case. And it is to be borne in mind that the question at issue is, not what the eye-witnesses at that time believed, not what the Church from that time to this has believed, not what we are willing to believe, or would like to believe, but what all the facts with any bearing on the case, taken together, fully justify us in believing as to the real nature of it. What Jesus is recorded as saying of it is, of course, of prime importance. "Our friend Lazarus is fallen asleep, but I go that I may awake him out of sleep." Were this all, the case might easily have been classed as one of trance. The disciples, however, understood Jesus to speak of natural sleep. "Then Jesus therefore said unto them plainly, _Lazarus is dead_." Tradition puts the maximum meaning into this word "dead." But if this word here qualifies the preceding word, "fallen asleep," so also is it qualified by that; the two are mutually explanatory, not contradictory. These alternatives are before us: Is the maximum or the minimum meaning to be assigned to the crucial word "dead"? For the minimum, one can say that a deathly trance, already made virtual death by immediate interment, would amply justify Jesus in using the word "dead" in order to impress the disciples with the gravity of the case, as not a natural but a deathly, and, in the existing situation, a fatal sleep. For the maximum, no more can be advanced than the hazardous assertion that Jesus _must_ have used the word with technical precision in its customary sense; an assertion of course protected from disproof by our ignorance of the actual fact.[22] But whatever support this view of the case derives from such ignorance is overbalanced by the support supplied to the other view by the long history of revivals from the deathly trance, and by the probabilities which that history creates. Many, to whom the view here proposed seems not only new, but unwelcome, and even revolutionary, may reasonably prefer to suspend judgment for reflection; but meanwhile some further considerations may be entertained. 1. Aside from the unwillingness to abandon a long-cherished belief on any subject whatever, which is both a natural, and, when not pushed to an unreasonable length, a desirable brake on all inconsiderate change, no practical interest is threatened by the adoption of the view here suggested. Religious interest, so far as it is also intelligent, is certainly not threatened. The evidences of Jesus' divine character and mission resting, as for modern men it rests, not on remote wonders, but on now acknowledged facts of an ethical and spiritual kind, is altogether independent of our conclusion whether it was from actual or only apparent death that Lazarus was raised. Since all the mighty works wrought by Jesus, and this among them, were identical in type with those wrought by the ancient prophets, with whom his countrymen classed him in his lifetime, their evidential significance could be, even for the eye-witnesses at that tomb, no greater for him than for an Elisha,--signs of a divine mission attesting itself by works of mercy. 2. As works of mercy these raisings from the "dead," including that of Lazarus, rank far higher in the view of them here proposed than in the traditional view. This regards them as the recall of departed spirits from what is hoped to be "a better world." Yet this, while it turns sorrow for a time into joy, involves not only the recurrence of that sorrow in all its keenness, but also a second tasting of the pains preliminary to the death-gate, when the time comes to pass that gate again. But in the other view, a raising from the death that is only simulated is a merciful deliverance from a calamity greater than simple death, if that be any calamity at all,--the fate of burial alive. In the former view, therefore, the quality of mercy, distinctive of the mighty works of Jesus, is imperfectly demonstrable. In the present view, as the rescue of the living from death in one of its most horrible forms, it is abundantly conspicuous. 3. The onlookers by the tomb of Lazarus doubtless regarded his awakening as revival from actual death. Their opinion, however, does not bind our judgment any more than it is bound by the opinion of other onlookers, that Jesus' healing of the insane and epileptic was through the expulsion of demons that possessed them. In each instance it was understood as a sign of control over beings belonging to another world. But such an attestation of Jesus' divine mission, having been superseded for us by proofs of higher character, is now no more needful for us in the case of the "dead" than in the case of the "demons." 4. The power of breaking the deathly trance, of quickening the dormant life, reënergizing the collapsed nervous organism, and ending its paralysis of sensation and motion, may be reasonably regarded as power of the same psychical kind that Jesus regularly exerted in healing the sufferers from nervous disorders who were reputed victims of demoniac possession.[23] In this view these resuscitations from apparent death appear in natural coherence with the many other works of mercy that Jesus wrought as the Great Physician of his people, and may be regarded as the crown and consummation of all his restorative ministries. Jesus' thanksgiving after the tomb had been opened--"Father, I thank thee that thou hast heard me"--shows that he had girded himself for a supreme effort by concentrating the utmost energy of his spirit in prayer. Physically parallel with this was the intensity of voice put into his call to the occupant of the tomb. This is better represented in the original than in our translation: "He shouted with a great voice, 'Lazarus, come forth.'" The whole record indicates the utmost tension of all his energies, and closely comports with the view that this stood to the sequel in the relation of cause to effect.[24] Another circumstance not without bearing on the case is the energizing power of the intense sympathy with the bereaved family that stirred the soul of Jesus to weep and groan with them. And it is not without significance that this strong factor appears active in the larger number of the Biblical cases,--three of them only children, two of these the children of the pitiable class of widows. Peculiar, then, as was the case of Lazarus, our examination of it reveals no substantial ground for insisting that it was essentially unlike the previous case of the ruler's daughter, that it was the bringing back into a decaying body of a spirit that had entered into the world of departed souls. The actual fact, of course, is indemonstrable. Our conclusion has to be formed wholly upon the probabilities of the case, and must be formed in a reasonable choice between the greater probability and the less. The restoration of Dorcas to life by Peter, recorded in the book of Acts,[25] needs no special discussion beyond the various considerations already adduced in this chapter. The case of Eutychus, recorded in the same book,[26] requires mention only lest it should seem to have been forgotten, as it is not in point at all. The record makes it highly probable that the supposed death was nothing more than the loss of consciousness for a few hours in consequence of a fall from the window. * * * * * If one should here suggest that no mention has yet been made of the resurrection of Jesus himself, it must be pointed out that this is a fact of a totally different kind from any of the foregoing cases. To speak, as many do, of the "resurrection of Lazarus" is a misuse of words. Resuscitation to life in this world, and resurrection, the rising up of the released spirit into the life of the world to come, are as distinct as are the worlds to which they severally belong. We here consider only the _raisings_ which restored to the virtually dead their interrupted mortal life. The _rising_ from the mortal into the immortal state belongs to an entirely different field of study. * * * * * Apart, then, from traditional prepossessions, examination of the Biblical narratives discloses nothing to invalidate the hypothesis which one who is acquainted with the copious record of apparent but unreal death must seriously and impartially consider. The reputedly miraculous raisings of the "dead" related in both the Old and the New Testament may, with entire reason, and without detriment to religion, be classed with such as are related outside of the Scriptures, in ancient times as well as modern, and as phenomena wholly within the natural order, however extraordinary. The practical result of such a conclusion is likely to be a gain for the historicity of the Scripture narratives in the estimate of a large class of thoughtful minds. FOOTNOTES: [12] An objection to the historicity of the raising of Lazarus which is made on the ground that so great a work, if historical, would have been related by more than one of the Evangelists, yields on reflection the possibility that Jesus may have effected more than the three raisings recorded of him. John is the sole narrator of the raising of Lazarus. But he omits notice of the two raisings recorded by the other Evangelists, while Matthew and Mark do not record the raising of the widow's son recorded by Luke. All this suggests that the record may have preserved for us specimens rather than a complete list of this class of miracles. (Compare John xxi. 25.) [13] "We have frequent cases of trance, ... where the parties seem to die, but after a time the spirit returns, and life goes on as before. In all this there is no miracle. Why may not the resuscitations in Christ's time possibly have been similar cases? Is not this less improbable than that the natural order of the universe should have been set aside?"--_The Problem of Final Destiny_, by William B. Brown, D.D., 1899. [14] On account of the ceremonial "uncleanness" caused by the dead body. See Numbers v. 2, and many similar passages. [15] _Buried Alive_ (Universal Truth Publishing Co., Chicago). See also _Premature Burial_, by D. Walsh (William Wood & Co., New York), and _Premature Burial_, by W. Tebb and E. P. Vollum (New Amsterdam Book Co., New York). [16] Other writers might be mentioned, as Mme. Necker (1790), Dr. Vigné (1841). Yet on the other hand it is alleged, that "none of the numerous stories of this dreadful accident which have obtained credence from time to time seem to be authentic" (_American Cyclopedia_, art. "Burial"). Allowing a wide margin for exaggeration and credulity, there is certainly a residuum of fact. A correspondent of the (London) _Spectator_ a few years since testified to a distressing case in his own family. [17] Kings xvii. 17-23. [18] Kings iv. 32-36. [19] Mark v. 35-43. [20] Luke vii. 12-16. [21] John xi. 11-44. [22] Was Jesus aware that Lazarus was really not dead? It is impossible to reach a positive conclusion. In some directions his knowledge was certainly limited. That he was not aware of the reality might be inferred from his seeming to have allowed his act to pass for what, in the view of it here suggested, it was not,--the recall to life of one actually dead. This, however, assumes the completeness of a record whose silence on this point cannot be pressed as conclusive. It is, indeed, unlikely that Jesus knew all that medical men now know. But awareness of any fact may be in varying degrees from serious suspicion up to positive certitude. While far from positiveness, awareness may exist in a degree that gives courage for resolute effort resulting in clear and full verification. Jesus may have been ignorant of the objective reality of Lazarus's condition, and yet have been very hopeful of being empowered by the divine aid he prayed for (John xi. 41) to cope with it successfully. [23] See pages 28, 29, Note. [24] Jesus' works of healing are explicitly attributed by the Evangelists to a peculiar power that issued from him. In Mark v. 30, Luke vi. 19, and viii. 46, the original word _dunamis_, which the Authorized Version translates "virtue," is more correctly rendered "power" in the Revised Version. Especially noticeable is the peculiar phraseology of Mark v. 30: "Jesus perceiving in himself that the power proceeding from him had gone forth (R. V.)." The peculiar circumstances of the case suggest that the going forth of this power might be motived sub-consciously, as well as by conscious volition. [25] Acts ix. 36-42. [26] Acts xx. 9-13. IV IV SYNOPSIS.--A clearer conception of miracle approached.--Works of Jesus once reputed miraculous not so reputed now, since not now transcending, as once, the existing range of knowledge and power.--This transfer of the miraculous to the natural likely to continue.--No hard and fast line between the miraculous and the non-miraculous.--Miracle a provisional word, its application narrowing in the enlarging mastery of the secrets of nature and life. At this point it seems possible to approach a clearer understanding of the proper meaning to attach to the generally ill-defined and hazy term _miracle_.[27] Matthew Arnold's fantastic illustration of the idea of miracle by supposing a pen changed to a pen-wiper may fit some miracles, especially those of the Catholic hagiology, but, if applied to those of Jesus, would be a caricature. In the New Testament a reputed miracle is not any sort of wonderful work upon any sort of occasion, but an act of benevolent will exerted for an immediate benefit,[28] and transcending the then existing range of human intelligence to explain and power to achieve. The historic reality of at least some such acts performed by Jesus is acknowledged by critics as free from the faintest trace of orthodox bias as Keim: "The picture of Jesus, the worker of miracles, belongs to the first believers in Christ, and is no invention." It has already been noted that a considerable number of the then reputed miracles of Jesus, particularly his works of healing, do not now, as then, transcend the existing range of knowledge and power, and accordingly are no longer reputed miraculous. And one cannot reasonably believe that a limit to the understanding and control of forces in Nature and mind that now are more or less occult has been already reached. It is, therefore, not incredible that some of the mighty works of Jesus, which still transcend the existing limits of knowledge and power, and so are still reputed miraculous, and are suspected by many as unhistorical, may in some yet remote and riper stage of humanity be transferred, as some have already been, to the class of the non-miraculous and natural. Dr. Robbins, Dean of the General Theological Seminary, New York, after remarking that "the word _miracle_ has done more to introduce confusion into Christian Evidences than any other," goes on to say: "To animals certain events to them inexplicable are signs of the presence of human intelligence and power. To men these miracles of Christ are signs of divine intelligence and power. But how is miracle to be differentiated from other providential dealings of God? Not by removing him further from common events. Abstruse speculations concerning the relation of miracles to other physical phenomena may be safely left to the adjustment of an age which shall have advanced to a more perfect synthesis of knowledge than the present can boast."[29] The truth to which such considerations conduct is, that no hard and fast line can be drawn between the miraculous and the non-miraculous. To the untutored mind, like that of the savage who thought it miraculous that a chip with a message written on it had talked to the recipient, the simplest thing that he cannot explain is miraculous: "_omne ignotum pro mirifico_," said Tacitus. As the range of knowledge and power widens, the range of the miraculous narrows correspondingly. Some twenty years since, the International Sunday-school Lessons employed as a proof of the divinity of Christ the reputedly miraculous knowledge which he evinced in his first interview with Nathanael of a solitary hour in Nathanael's experience.[30] Since then it has been demonstrated[31] by psychical research that the natural order of the world includes telepathy, and the range of the miraculous has been correspondingly reduced without detriment to the argument for the divinity of Christ, now rested on less precarious ground. Under such conditions as we have reviewed a miracle cannot always be one and the same thing. Miracle must therefore be defined as being what our whole course of thought has suggested that it is: in general, an elastic word; in particular, a provisional word,--a word whose application narrows with the enlarging range of human knowledge[32] and power which for the time it transcends; a word whose history, in its record of ranges already transcended, prompts expectation that ranges still beyond may be transcended in the illimitable progress of mankind. Professor Le Conte says that miracle is "an occurrence or a phenomenon according to a law higher than any yet known." Thus it is a case of human ignorance, not of divine interference. On the other hand, we must believe that the goal of progress is a flying goal; that human attainment can never reach finality unless men cease to be. And so all widening of human knowledge and power must ever disclose further limitations to be transcended. There will always be a _Beyond_, in which dwells the secret of laws still undiscovered, that underlie mysteries unrevealed and marvels unexplained. This will have to be admitted, especially, by those to whom the marvellous is synonymous with the incredible. We have not been able to eviscerate even these prosaic and matter-of-fact modern times of marvels whose secret lies in the yet uncatalogued or indefinable powers of the mysterious agent that we name _life_: witness many well verified facts recorded by the Society for Psychical Research.[33] How, then, is it consistent to affirm that no such marvels in ancient records are historical realities? Nay, may it not be true that the ancient days of seers and prophets, the days of Jesus, days of the sublime strivings of great and lonely souls for closer converse with the Infinite Spirit behind his mask of Nature, offered better conditions for marvellous experiences and deeds than these days of scientific laboratories and factories, and world-markets and world-politics? FOOTNOTES: [27] "Early and mediæval theologians agree in conceiving the miraculous as being above, not contrary to, nature. The question entered on a new phase when Hume defined a miracle as a violation of nature, and asserted the impossibility of substantiating its actual occurrence. The modern discussion has proceeded largely in view of Hume's destructive criticism. Assuming the possibility of a miracle, the questions of fact and of definition remain."--_Dictionary of Psychology._ "When we find the definition for which we are searching, the miraculous will no longer be a problem."--PROFESSOR W. SANDAY, at the Anglican Church Congress, 1902. [28] For exceptions see Matthew xxi. 19; Acts xiii. 10, 11. [29] _A Christian Apologetic_, p. 97. [30] John i. 47-50. [31] In the opinion of such psychologists as Professor William James, of Harvard, the late Professor Henry Sidgwick, of Cambridge, England, and others of like eminence. [32] A hint of this was given by Augustine: "Portentum non fit contra naturam, sed contra quam est nota natura."--_De Civitate Dei._ [33] Consult the late F. W. H. Myers's remarkable volumes on _Human Personality and Survival after Death_ (Longmans, Green & Co.). V V SYNOPSIS.--Biblical miracles the effluence of extraordinary lives.--Life the world's magician and miracle worker; its miracles now termed _prodigies_.--Miracle the natural product of an extraordinary endowment of life.--Life the ultimate reality.--What any man can achieve is conditioned by the psychical quality of his life.--Nothing more natural, more supernatural, than life.--The derived life of the world filial to the self-existent life of God, "begotten, not made."--Miracle, as the product of life, the work of God. Be it noted, now, that the marvellous phenomena of the Biblical record, whatever else be thought of them, are, even to a superficial view, the extraordinary effluence of extraordinary lives. Here at length we gain a clearer conception of miracle. _Life_ is the world's great magician,--life, so familiar, yet so mysterious; so commonplace, yet so transcendent. No miracle is more marvellous than its doings witnessed in the biological laboratory, or more inexplicable than its transformation of dead matter into living flesh, its development of a Shakespeare from a microscopic bit of protoplasm. But its mysterious processes are too common for general marvel; we marvel only at the uncommon. The boy Zerah Colburn in half a minute solved the problem, "How many seconds since the beginning of the Christian era?" We prefer to call this a prodigy rather than a miracle,--a distinction more verbal than real; and we fancy we have explained it when we say that such arithmetical power was a peculiar endowment of his mental life. Now all of the inexplicable, inimitable reality that at any time has to be left by the baffled intellect as an unsolved wonder under the name of miracle is just that,--_the natural product of an extraordinary endowment of life_. More of its marvellous capability is latent in common men, in the subconscious depths of being, than has ever yet flashed forth in the career of uncommon men. Some scientists say that it depends on chemical and physical forces. It indeed uses these to build the various bodies it inhabits, but again it leaves these to destroy those bodies when it quits them. The most constant and ubiquitous phenomenon in the world, the ultimate reality in the universe, is _life_, revealing its presence in innumerable modes of activity, from the dance of atoms in the rock to the philosophizing of the sage and the aspirations of the saint,--the creator of Nature, the administrator of the regular processes we call the laws of Nature, the author of the wonders men call miraculous because they are uncommon and ill understood. The works of which any man is naturally capable are conditioned by the psychical quality of his life, and its power to use the forces of Nature. Through differences of vital endowment some can use color, as wonderful painters, and others employ sound, as wonderful musicians, in ways impossible to those otherwise endowed. So "a poet is born, not made." So persons of feeble frame, stimulated by disease or frenzied by passion, have put forth preternatural and prodigious muscular strength. By what we call "clairvoyant" power life calls up in intelligent perception things going on far beyond ocular vision. By what we call "telepathic" power life communicates intelligence with life separated by miles of space. Such are some of the powers that have been discovered, and fully attested, but not explained, as belonging to the world's master magician, _Life_. And when the poet asks,-- "Ah, what will our children be, The men of a hundred thousand, a million summers away?" we can only answer with the Apostle: "It doth not yet appear what we shall be." But we cannot deem it likely that the powers of life, "Deep seated in our mystic frame," and giving forth such flashes of their inherent virtue, have already reached their ultimate development. We look with wonder and awe into the secret shrine of life, where two scarcely visible cells unite to form the human being whose thought shall arrange the starry heavens in majestic order, and harness the titanic energies of Nature for the world's work. There we behold the real supernatural. Nothing is more natural than life, and nothing also more supernatural. Biology studies all the various forms that the world shows of it, and affirms that life, though multiform, is one. This embryology attests, showing that the whole ascent of life through diverse forms from the lowest to the highest, during the millions of years since life first manifested its presence on this globe, is recapitulated in the stages of growth through which the human being passes in the few months before its birth. And philosophy, which does not seek the living among the dead, affirms, _omne vivum ex vivo_. The varied but unitary life of the world is the stream of an exhaustless spring. It is filial to the life of God, the Father Almighty. What the ancient creed affirmed of the Christ as the Son of God--whom his beloved disciple recognized as "the eternal life which was with the Father and was manifested unto us[34]"--may be truly affirmed of the mysterious reality that is known as life: "Begotten not made; being of one substance with the Father; through whom [or which] all things were made." Looking from the derived and finite life of the world, visible only in the signs of its presence, but in its reality no more visible than him "whom no man hath seen, nor can see," up to the life underived, aboriginal, infinite, we recognize _God_ and _Life_ as terms of identical significance. How superficial the notion of miracles as "the personal intervention of God into the chain of cause and effect," in which he is the constant vital element. If an event deemed miraculous is ever ascribed, as of old, to "the finger of God," the reality behind the phenomenon is simply a higher or a stronger power of life than is recognized in an event of a common type--life that is one with the infinite and universal Life, "Life that in me has rest, As I, undying Life, have power in Thee." FOOTNOTES: [34] 1 John i. 2. VI VI SYNOPSIS.--The question, both old and new, now confronting theologians.--Their recent retreat upon the minimum of miracle.--The present conflict of opinion in the Church.--Its turning-point reached in the antipodal turn-about in the treatment of miracles from the old to the new apologetics.--Revision of the traditional idea of the supernatural required for theological readjustment. The present line of thought has now reached the point where an important question confronts us,--a question not wholly new. Within the memory of living men theologians have been compelled to ask themselves: What if the geologists should establish facts that contradict our Biblically derived doctrine that the universe was made in a week? Again have they been constrained to put to themselves the question: What if the evolutionists should supersede our doctrine that the creation is the immediate product of successive fiats of the Creator by showing that it came gradually into existence through the progressive operation of forces immanent in the cosmos? Still again have they had to face the question: What if modern criticism by the discovery of demonstrable errors in the Sacred Writings should fault our doctrine that, as the Word of God, the Bible is free from all and every error? In every instance the dreaded concession, when found at length to be enforced by modern learning, has been found to bring, not the loss that had been apprehended, but clear gain to the intellectual interests of religion. Now it is this same sort of question which returns with the uncertainties and difficulties widely felt in the Church to be gathering over its hitherto unvexed belief in miracles as signs of a divine activity more immediate than it has recognized in the regular processes of Nature. The majority of uneducated Christians still hold, as formerly in each of the points just mentioned, to the traditional view. Miracle as a divine intervention in the natural order, a more close and direct divine contact with the course of things than is the case in ordinary experience, they regard as the inseparable and necessary concomitant and proof of a divine Revelation. To deny miracles, thus understood, is censured as equivalent to denial of the reality of the Revelation. But it is rather surprising, because it is rare, to find a man of such note in literature as Dr. W. Robertson Nicoll affirming[35] that one cannot be a Christian without believing at least two miracles, the virgin birth and the physical resurrection of the Christ. Without comment on the significance of this retreat upon the minimum of miracle, it must here be noted that a minority of the Church, not inferior to their brethren in learning and piety, believe that there are no tides in God's presence in Nature, that his contact with it is always of the closest:-- "Closer is he than breathing, and nearer than hands or feet." All natural operations are to them divine operations. "Nature," said Dr. Martineau, "is God's mask, not his competitor." While his agency in Nature may be _recognized_ at one time more than at another, it _exists_ at any time fully as much as at any other. In the interest of this fundamental truth of religion they affirm that miracles in the traditional sense of the word, and in their traditional limitation to the small measure of time and space covered by Biblical narratives, never occurred. Events reputed miraculous have indeed occurred, but simply as unusual, inexplicable phenomena in the natural order of things, the natural products of exceptionally endowed life, and, whether in ancient time or modern, the same sort of thing the world over. To the argument that this involves denial of a supernatural Revelation they reply that it is mere reasoning in a circle. For if one begs the question at the outset by defining supernatural Revelation as revelation necessarily evidenced by miraculous divine intervention, then, of course, denial of this is denial of that, and how is the argument advanced? But, besides this, the question-begging definition is a fallacious confusing of the contents of the Revelation with its concomitants, and of its essentially spiritual character with phenomena in the sphere of the senses. The turning-point in this argument between the two parties in the Church has been reached in the antipodal change, already referred to, from the old to the new apologetics,--a change whose inevitable consequences do not yet seem to be clearly discerned by either party in the discussion. The contention that denial of miracles as traditionally understood carries denial of supernatural Revelation has been virtually set aside, with its question-begging definition and circular reasoning, by the apologetics now current among believers in at least a minimum of miracle in the traditional sense of the word,--especially in the two chief miracles of the virgin birth and the physical resurrection of Jesus. As an eminent representative of these the late Dr. A. B. Bruce may be cited. These adduce "the moral miracle," the sinlessness of Jesus, as evidential for the reality of the physical miracles as its "congruous accompaniments." "If," says Dr. Bruce, "we receive Him as the great moral miracle, we shall receive much more for His sake."[36] But what a turn-about of the traditional argument on the evidences! The older apologetes argued: This crown of miraculous power bespeaks the royal dignity of the wearer. The modern apologete reasons: This royal character must have a crown of miraculous power corresponding with his moral worth. In this antipodal reverse of Christian thought it is quite plain that for evidential purposes the miracle is stripped of its ancient value. And it has already been observed that modern knowledge has now transferred many of the Biblical miracles to the new rooms discovered for them in the natural order of things. It is not premature, therefore, for leaders of Christian thought to put once more to themselves the question, constantly recurring as learning advances: What theological readjustment should we have to make, if obliged to concede that the ancient belief in miracle is not inseparable from belief in a supernatural Revelation, not indispensable to belief therein? What modified conception must we form, if constrained to admit that the living God, ever immanent in Nature, intervenes in Nature no more at one time than another? What, indeed, but a revised and true in place of a mistaken conception of the term _Supernatural_? FOOTNOTES: [35] "The Church asks, and it is entitled to ask the critic: Do you believe in the Incarnation and Resurrection of Jesus Christ?... If he replies in the negative, he has missed the way, and has put himself outside of the Church of Christ."--_The Church's One Foundation_, p. 4. [Note that "Incarnation" and "Resurrection" are terms which Dr. Nicoll construes as denoting physical miracles.] What Dr. Nicoll here means by "outside of the Church" he indicates by saying elsewhere, that philosophers who reckon goodness as everything, and miracles as impossible, "are not Christians" (_op. cit._, p. 10). This conditioning of Christian character upon an intellectual judgment concerning the reality of remote occurrences is both unbiblical and unethical, as well as absurd when practically applied. Some years since, Dr. E. A. Abbott, who admits no miracle in the life of Christ, published a book, _The Spirit on the Waters_, in which he inculcated the worship of Christ. Yet, according to Dr. Nicoll, such a man is no Christian! [36] _The Miraculous Element in the Gospels_, p. 353. VII VII SYNOPSIS.--Account to be made of the law of atrophy through disuse.--The virgin birth and the corporeal resurrection of Jesus, the two miracles now insisted on as the irreducible minimum, affected by this law.--The vital truths of the incarnation and immortality independent of these miracles.--These truths now placed on higher ground in a truer conception of the supernatural.--The true supernatural is the spiritual, not the miraculous.--Scepticism bred from the contrary view.--The miracle narratives, while less evidential for religion, not unimportant for history.--Psychical research a needful auxiliary for the scientific critic of these. To the true conception of the supernatural we shall presently come. But we cannot proceed without briefly reminding ourselves of the certain consequences of this now far advanced dropping of miracles by modern apologetics from their ancient use as evidences of a supernatural Revelation. We are not ignorant of the law, which holds throughout the material, the mental, and the moral realms, that disuse tends to atrophy and extinction. Disused organs cease to exist, as in the eyeless cave-fish. For centuries the story of the miraculous birth of Jesus was serviceable for confirmation of his claim to be the Son of God. In the address of the angel of the annunciation to Mary that claim is expressly rested on the miraculous conception of "the holy thing."[37] But as ethical enlightenment grows, the conviction grows that, whether the physiological ground of that claim be tenable or not, the ethical ground of it is essentially higher. _Father_ and _son_ even in human relationships are terms of more than physiological import. It is matter of frequent experience that, where the ethical character of such relationship is lacking, the physiological counts for nothing. Moreover, the divine sonship of Jesus in a purely ethical view rests on ground not only higher but incontestable. And so in our time theologians prefer to rest it on foundations that cannot be shaken, on his moral oneness with God, the divineness of his spirit, the ideal perfectness of his life. The strength of this position being realized, the world begins to hear from Christian thinkers the innovating affirmation that belief of the miraculous birth can no longer be deemed essential to Christianity; else it would not have been left unmentioned in two of the four Gospels, and in every extant Apostolic letter. And now we hear theologians saying: "I accept it, but I place it no more among the evidences of Christianity. I defend it, but cannot employ it in the defence of supernatural Revelation." Such a stage of thought is only transitional. An antiquated argument does not long survive in the world of thought.[38] Military weapons that have become unserviceable soon find their way either to the museum or the foundry. It is shortsighted not to foresee the inevitable effect on our theological material of the law of atrophy through disuse. The case of the miracle is the case of a pillar originally put in for the support of an ancient roof. When the roof has a modern truss put beneath it springing from wall to wall, the pillar becomes an obstacle, and is removed. But as in such a case the roof, otherwise supported, does not fall in when the pillar is removed, so neither is the central Christian truth of the incarnation imperilled by any weakening or vanishing of belief in the doctrine of the virgin birth. In a discussion of the subject in Convocation at York, England, while these pages were being written, the Dean of Ripon (Dr. Boyd Carpenter) urged that it must be borne in mind that the incarnation and the virgin birth were two different things, and that some who found difficulty in the latter fully accepted the former. In a recent sermon Dr. Briggs insists likewise upon this: "The virgin birth is only one of many statements of the mode of incarnation.... The doctrine of the incarnation does not depend upon the virgin birth.... It is only a minor matter connected with the incarnation, and should have a subordinate place in the doctrine.... At the same time the virgin birth is a New Testament doctrine, and we must give it its proper place and importance.... The favorite idea of the incarnation among the people has ever been the simpler one of the virgin birth, as in the Ave Maria. The theologians have ever preferred the more profound doctrine of the Hymn of the Logos [John i. 1-18]."[39] Nay, it may even be found that the weakening of belief in the incarnation as an isolated and miraculous event may tend to promote a profounder conception of it, that brings the divine and the human into touch and union at all points instead of in one point.[40] A similar change of thought, less remarked than its significance deserves, is concerned with that other great miracle, the corporeal resurrection of Jesus, which such writers as Dr. Nicoll couple with that of his virgin birth as the irreducible minimum of miracle, belief in which is essential to Christian discipleship.[41] For many centuries the resurrection story in the Gospels has served as the conclusive proof both of the divine sonship of Jesus,[42] and of our own resurrection to immortality.[43] In the churches it is still popularly regarded as the supreme, sufficient, and indispensable fact required for the basis of faith. But in many a Christian mind the thought has dawned, that a single fact cannot give adequate ground for the general inference of a universal principle; that a remote historical fact, however strongly attested, can evince only what _has_ taken place in a given case, not what _will_ or _must_ occur in other cases; while it is also inevitably more or less pursued by critical doubt of the attestations supporting it. This rising tide of reflection has compelled resort to higher ground, to the inward evidences in the nature of mind that are more secure from the doubt to which all that is merely external and historical is exposed. A clear distinction has been discerned between the _real_ resurrection of Jesus--his rising from the mortal state into the immortal, and his _phenomenal_ resurrection--the manifestations of his change that are related as having been objectively witnessed. What took place in the invisible world--his real resurrection--is now more emphasized by Christian thinkers than the phenomenal resurrection in the visible world. So conservatively orthodox a writer as Dr. G. D. Boardman goes so far as to say: "After all, the real question in the matter of his resurrection is not, 'Did Christ's body rise?' That is but a subordinate, incidental issue." The real question, as Dr. Boardman admits, is, "Whether Jesus Christ himself is risen, and is alive to-day."[44] The main stress of Christian thought to-day is not laid, as formerly, on the phenomena recorded in the story of the resurrection, but on the psychological, moral, and rational evidences of a resurrection to immortality that until recent times were comparatively disregarded.[45] Meanwhile the vindication of the reality of the phenomena related of the risen Jesus, including his bodily ascension, though not a matter of indifference to many of those who have found the higher grounds of faith, has become to them of subordinate importance. It is well for Christian faith that its supersensuous and impregnable grounds have been occupied. It is certain that ancient records of external phenomena cannot in future constitute, as heretofore, the stronghold of faith. But it is by no means yet certain that they have lost serviceableness as, at least, outworks of the stronghold. While the doctrine of the virgin birth seems to be threatened by atrophy, the doctrine of the bodily resurrection, though retired from primary to secondary rank, seems to be waiting rather for clarification by further knowledge. Something of an objective nature certainly lies at its basis; _something_ of an external sort, not the product of mere imagination, took place. To the fact thus indefinitely stated, that hallowing of Sunday as a day of sacred and joyful observance which is coeval with the earliest traditions, and antedates all records, is an attestation as significant as any monumental marble. No hallucination theory, no gradual rise and growth of hope in the minds of a reflective few, can account for that solid primeval monument. But _what_ occurred, the reality in distinctness from any legendary accretions, we shall be better able to conclude, when the truth shall have been threshed out concerning the reality, at present strongly attested, and as strongly controverted, of certain extraordinary but occult psychical powers.[46] A point of high significance for those who would cultivate a religious faith not liable to be affected by changes of intellectual outlook or insight is, that this lower valuation of miracle observable among Christian thinkers has not been reached through breaches made by sceptical doubts of the reality of a supernatural Revelation. They have, of course, felt the reasonableness of the difficulties with which traditional opinions have been encumbered by the advance of knowledge. But so far from giving way thereupon to doubts of the reality of divine Revelation, they have sought and found less assailable defences for their faith in it than those that sufficed their fathers. And their satisfaction therewith stands in no sympathy with those who hold it a mark of enlightenment to assume with Matthew Arnold, that "miracles do not happen." It has resulted rather from reaching the higher grounds of religious thought, on which supernatural Revelation is recognized in its essential character as distinctively moral and spiritual. The true supernatural is the _spiritual_, not the miraculous, a higher order of Nature, not a contradiction of Nature. The Revelation of Jesus was altogether spiritual. It consisted in the ideas of God which he communicated by his ministry and teaching, by his character and life. But this, the real supernatural, was not obvious as such to his contemporaries. They looked for it in the lower region of physical effects. And here the Church also in its embryonic spiritual life, in its proneness to externalize religion in forms of rite, and creed, and organization, has thought to find it. Jesus' reproof, "Except ye see signs and wonders ye will not believe," is still pertinent to those who will not have it that the supernatural Revelation--spiritual though it be--can be recognized or believed in apart from an acknowledgment of attendant miracles, wrought in physical nature by an intervention of God. Such a contention, however, is as futile and desperate as was John Wesley's declaration, "The giving up of witchcraft is in effect the giving up of the Bible." Such mischievous fallacies succeed only in blinding many a mind to the real issue which the moral and spiritual Revelation of Jesus makes with men of the twentieth century. It is these fallacies, and not their critics, that create the most of scepticism.[47] But while the question whether miracles are credible has ceased to be of vital importance, it has by no means lost all importance. On the contrary, so long as the path of progress is guided by the lamp of experience, so long will it be of consequence that the historical record of experience be found trustworthy. It may suit the overweening pride which defies both the past and the present to say with Bonaparte, that history is only a fable that men have agreed to believe. But it is a human interest, and a satisfaction of normal minds to establish, so far as reason permits, the credibility of every record ostensibly historic. To discover that ancient experiences, once supposed to be miraculous raisings from real death, may reasonably be classed with well attested experiences of to-day, better understood as resuscitations from a deathlike trance, should be welcomed by unprejudiced historical critics, as redeeming portions of the ancient record from mistaken disparagement as legendary. That further study may accredit as facts, or at least as founded on facts, some other marvels in that record cannot, except by arrant dogmatism, be pronounced improbable. Nevertheless, it cannot be expected that the legendary element, which both the Old and the New Testament in greater and less degree exhibit, can ever be eliminated. Such stories as that of the origin of languages at Babel, and that of the resurrection of ancient saints at Jesus' resurrection are indubitable cases of it. But the legendary element, though permanent, is at present undefined. To define it is the problem of the critical student, a problem most difficult to him whose judgment is least subjective; and he will welcome every contribution that advancing knowledge can supply. Regarding miracle as the natural product of exceptionally endowed life, there is no source from which more light can be shed on its Biblical record than in those studies of the exceptional phenomena and occult powers of life which are prosecuted by the Society for Psychical Research, whose results are recorded in its published _Proceedings_. For those familiar with this record the legendary element in the Bible tends to shrink into smaller compass than many critics assign it. In the interest both of the Bible and of science it is regrettable that the results of these researches, though conducted by men of high eminence in the scientific world, still encounter the same hostile scepticism even from some Christian believers that Hume directed against the Biblical miracles. Mr. Gladstone has put himself on record against this philistinism, saying that "psychical research is by far the most important work that is being done in the world." Were one disposed to prophesy, very reasonable grounds could be produced for the prediction that, great as was the advance of the nineteenth century in physical knowledge, the twentieth century will witness an advance in psychical knowledge equally great. In this advance one may not unreasonably anticipate that some, at least, of the Biblical miracles may be relieved from the scepticism that now widely discredits them. FOOTNOTES: [37] Luke i. 35. [38] To what extent the law of atrophy has begun to work upon the doctrine of the virgin birth appears in the recent utterance of so eminent an evangelical scholar as Dr. R. F. Horton, of London. The following report of his remarks in a Christmas sermon in 1901 is taken from the _Christian World_, London. "We could not imagine Paul, Peter, and John all ignoring something essential to the Gospel they preached. Strictly speaking, this narrative in Matthew and Luke was one of the latest touches in the Gospel, belonging to a period forty or fifty years after the Lord had passed away, when men had begun to realize what he was--the Son of God--and tried to express their conviction in this form or that." The implication here is unmistakable, that, in Dr. Horton's view, subjective considerations in the minds of pious believers, rather than objective fact, form the basis of the story. [39] See the Sermon on "Born of a Virgin," in the volume on _The Incarnation of Our Lord_. [40] "Christian thought has not erred by asserting too much concerning the incarnation of God, but, on the contrary, too little.... If ever overblown by blasts of denial, it is for wanting breadth of base.... Men have disbelieved the incarnation, because told that all there was of it was in Christ; and they reject what is presented as exceptional to the general way of God. They must be told to believe more; that the age-long way of God is in a perpetually increasing incarnation of life, whose climax and crown is the divine fulness of life in Christ."--From a discourse by the present writer on "Life and its Incarnations," in the volume, _New Points to Old Texts_. (James Clarke & Co., London. Thomas Whittaker, New York, 1889.) [41] See page 97 and Note. [42] Romans i. 4. [43] 1 Corinthians xv. 16-23. [44] _Our Risen King's Forty Days_, 1902. [45] In strong contrast with this are the reactionary protests of Dr. W. R. Nicoll: "To talk of the resurrection of the spirit is preposterous. The spirit does not die, and therefore cannot rise.... The one resurrection of which the New Testament knows, the one resurrection which allows to language any meaning, is the resurrection of the body, the resurrection which leaves the grave empty" (_op. cit._ p. 134). It should be noted here that Jesus' argument with the Sadducees on the resurrection (Luke xx. 37, 38) logically proceeds on the assumption that living after death and rising after death are convertible terms. Also, that the contrast involved in the idea of the resurrection (the _anastasis_, or rising up) is a contrast not between the grave and the sky, but between the lower life of mortals and the higher life immortal. For an extended exhibition of this line of evidence see "The Assurance of Immortality," and "The Present Pledge of Life to Come" (in two volumes of discourses by the present writer), London, James Clarke & Co. New York, Thomas Whittaker, 1888 and 1889. [46] Could it have been only an apparition? The "census of hallucinations" conducted some ten years since by the Society for Psychical Research evinced the reality of veridical apparitions of deceased persons at or near the time of their death, showing the number of verified cases to be so large as to exclude the supposition of chance hallucination (see _Proceedings_, August, 1894). Or could it have been a material body suddenly becoming visible in a closed room, as narrated by Luke and John? First-class evidence, if there can be any such for such occurrences, has been exhibited for such phenomena as the passage of solid substances through intervening doors and walls--easy enough, say mathematicians, for a being familiar with the "fourth dimension"--and of the levitation of heavy bodies without physical support. (See _Proceedings_, January, 1894, and March, 1895.) As to such things scepticism is doubtless in order, but dogmatic contradiction is not. _Sub judice lis est._ [47] Professor Borden P. Bowne has thus exhibited this great mistake and its grievous consequence:-- "In popular thought, religious and irreligious alike, the natural is supposed to be something that runs itself without any internal guidance or external interference. The supernatural, on the other hand, if there be any such thing, is not supposed to manifest itself through the natural, but by means of portents, prodigies, interpositions, departures from, or infractions of, natural law in general. The realm of law belongs to the natural, and the natural runs itself. Hence, if we are to find anything supernatural, we must look for it in the abnormal, the chaotic, the lawless, or that which defies all reduction to order that may be depended on. This notion underlies the traditional debate between naturalism and supernaturalism.... This unhappy misconception of the relation of the natural to the supernatural has practically led the great body of uncritical thinkers into the grotesque inversion of all reason--the more law and order, the less God."--_Zion's Herald_, August 22, 1900. VIII VIII SYNOPSIS.--The cardinal point in the present discussion, the reality not of miracles but of the supernatural.--Fallacy of pointing to physical events as essential characteristics of supernatural Revelation.--The character of a revelation determined not by its circumstances, but by its contents.--Moral nature supernatural to physical.--Nature a hierarchy of natures.--Supernatural Religion historically attested by the moral development it generates.--Transfer of its distinctive note from moral ideals to physical marvels a costly error.--Jesus' miracles _a_ revelation, of a type common with others before and since.--The unique Revelation of Jesus was in the higher realm of divine ideas and ideals.--These, while unrealized in human life, still exhibit the fact of a supernatural Revelation.--The distinction of natural and supernatural belongs to the period of moral progress up to the spiritual maturity of man in the image of God. The divine possibilities of humanity, imaged in Jesus, revealed as our inheritance and our prize. It remains finally to emphasize the point of cardinal importance in the considerations that have been presented. This is not the reality of miracles, but the reality of the supernatural, what it really is, as distinct from what it has been thought to be. The advance of science and philosophy has brought to the front this question: "Have those who reject the claims of supernatural Religion been misinformed as to what it is?" Is it, as they have been told, dependent for its attestation on signs and wonders occurring in the sphere of the senses? Does it require acceptance of these, as well as of its teachings? Or is its characteristic appeal wholly to the higher nature of man, relying for its attestation on the witness borne to it by this, rather than by extraordinary phenomena presented to the senses? There is at present no intellectual interest of Christianity more urgent than this: to present to minds imbued with modern learning the true conception of the supernatural and of supernatural Religion. Miracles, legitimately viewed as the natural product of extraordinary psychical power, or, to phrase it otherwise, of an exceptional vital endowment, belong not to the Hebrew race alone, nor did they cease when the last survivor of the Jewish apostles of Christianity passed away at the end of the first century. This traditional opinion ought by this time to have been entombed together with its long defunct relative, which represented this globe as the fixed centre of the revolving heavens. Miracles have the same universality as human life. Nor will their record be closed till the evolution of life is complete. Animal life, advancing through geologic æons to the advent of man, in him reached its climax. Spiritual life, appearing in him as a new bud on an old stock, is evidently far from its climax still. To believe in miracles, as rightly understood, is to believe in spirit and life, and in further unfoldings of their still latent powers. This, however, is just now of subordinate importance. The present interest of chief moment is a riddance of the hoary fallacy that vitiates the current idea of a supernatural Revelation by looking for its specific characteristics to the physical world. By this deplorable fallacy Christian theology has blinded the minds of many scientific men to the essential claims of Christianity, with immense damage in the arrested development of their religious nature through the scepticism inevitably but needlessly provoked by this great mistake. When Elijah proclaims to idolaters that their deity is no God, and, as we read, corroborates his words by calling down fire from heaven to consume his sacrifice, it is reckoned as supernatural Revelation. But it is not so reckoned when the sage in the book of Proverbs proclaims to a nation of religious formalists the moral character of God: "To do righteousness and justice is more acceptable to the LORD than sacrifice." This is accounted as ethical teaching, somewhat in advance of the times. A pagan rather than a Christian way of thinking is discoverable here. In each of the cases cited the specific character of supernatural Revelation is equally evident,--the disclosure of spiritual truth above the natural thought of the natural men to whom it came. The character of any revelation is determined by the character of the truth made known, not by the drapery of circumstances connected with the making known. Clothes do not make the man, though coarse or careless people may think so. What belongs to the moral and spiritual order is supernatural to what belongs to the material and physical order. This way of thinking will be forced on common minds by thoughtful observation of common things. Animate nature of the lowest rank, as in the grass, is of a higher natural order than inanimate nature in the soil the grass springs from. Sentient nature, as in the ox, is of a higher order than the non-sentient in the grass. Self-conscious and reflective nature in the man is of a higher order than the selfless and non-reflective nature in his beast of burden. In the composite being of man all these orders of nature coexist, and each higher is supernatural to the nature below it. Nature, the comprehensive term for _all that comes into being_, is a hierarchy of natures, rising rank above rank from the lowest to the highest. The highest nature known to us, supernatural to all below it, can only be the moral nature, whose full satisfaction is necessary to the highest satisfaction of a man, and in whose complete development only can be realized in permanency his perfected welfare as a social being. Now it is precisely in the progress of moral development that supernatural Religion manifests itself as a reality. Religion, indeed, is as natural to man as Art. But there is religion and Religion, as there is art and Art--the sexual religion of the primitive Semites, the animistic religion of China, the spiritual Religion that flowered on the Mount of the Beatitudes, embryonic religion and Religion adult; all, indeed, natural, yet of lower and of higher grade. Doubtless, Religion of whatever grade outranks all other human activities by its distinctive aspiration to transcend the bounds of space and time and sense, and to link the individual to the universal; and so all Religion sounds, feebly or distinctly, the note of the supernatural. But this is the resonant note of the spiritual Religion which unfolds in the moral progress of the world. As moral nature is supernatural to the psychical and the physical, so is its consummate bloom of spiritual Religion to be ranked as such, relatively to the religions which more or less dimly and blindly are yearning and groping toward the light that never was on sea or land. Thus defining the word according to the nature of the thing, supernatural Religion, with its corollary of supernatural Revelation not as an apparition from without, but as an unfolding from within, is both a fact and a factor in the development of spiritual man. The term _supernatural Religion_ has been rightly applied to that system of religious conceptions, ideals, and motives, whose effective culture of the moral nature is attested historically by a moral development superior to the product of any other known religion. Whether the greatest saints of Christianity are all of them whiter souls than any that can be found among the disciples of any other religion, may be matter for argument. There can be no gainsaying the fact that, of great and lowly together, no other religion shows so many saints, or has so advanced the general moral development in lands where it is widely followed. But its essential character has been obscured, its appeal to man's highest nature foiled, and its power lamed by the wretched fallacy that has transferred its distinctive note of the supernatural from its divine ideals to the physical marvels embedded in the record of its original promulgation, even conditioning its validity and authority upon their reality. Such is the false issue which, to the discredit of Christianity, theology has presented to science. Such is the confusion of ideas that in the light of modern knowledge inevitably blocks the way to a reasonable religious faith in multitudes of minds thereby offended. From this costly error Christian theology at length shows signs that it is about to extricate itself.[48] As to the Christian miracles, there can be no reasonable doubt that "mighty works," deemed by many of his contemporaries superhuman, were wrought by Jesus. These, whatever they were, must be regarded as the natural effluence of a transcendently endowed life. Taking place in the sphere of the senses, they were _a_ revelation of the type seen before and since in the lives of wonder-workers ancient and modern, in whom the power of mind over matter, however astonishing and mysterious, is recognized as belonging to the natural order of things no less than the unexplored Antarctic belongs to the globe. But _the_ Revelation which he gave to human thought as a new thing, a heavenly vision unprecedented, was in the higher realm of the moral and spiritual life. This was the true supernatural, whose reality and power are separable from all its environment of circumstances, and wholly independent thereof. The characteristic ideals of Jesus, his profound consciousness of God, his filial thought of God, his saturation with the conviction of his moral oneness with God,[49] his realization of brotherhood with the meanest human being, still transcend the common level of natural humanity even among his disciples. As thus transcendent they are supernatural still. Till reached and realized, they manifest the fact of a supernatural Revelation in that peerless life as plainly as the sun is manifest in the splendor of a cloudless day. In the coming but distant age, when man's spiritual nature, now so embryonic, shall have become adult, it will doubtless so pervade and rule the physical and psychical natures which it inhabits that the distinction between natural and supernatural, so important in the period of its development, will become foreign alike to thought and speech. But until the making of man in the image of God is complete, when the spiritual element in our composite being, now struggling for development, shall be manifest in its ultimate maturity and ascendency as the distinctive and proper nature of humanity, it is of supreme importance for the Christian teacher, who would point and urge to the heights of being, to free men's minds of error as to what the real supernatural is. Not the fancied disturber of the world's ordered harmonies, but that highest Nature which is the moulder, the glory, and the crown of all the lower. Imaged to us in the human perfectness of Jesus, the ideal Son of man, it is revealed as the distinctive inheritance and prize of the humanity that essays to think the thoughts and walk the ways of God. To each of us is it given in germ by our human birth, to be fostered and nourished in converse with the Infinite Presence that inhabits all things, till its divine possibilities appear in the ultimate "revealing of the sons of God,"[50] full grown "according to the measure of the stature of the fulness of Christ."[51] FOOTNOTES: [48] "Upon the conception of the supernatural as the personal," says Professor Nash, "apologetics must found the claims of Christianity."--_Ethics and Revelation._ [49] The words in which Jesus expresses this are much more extraordinary and profoundly significant than any of those mighty works of his, the like of which are recorded of the ancient prophets. Jesus was conscious of God as living in him, and of himself as living in God, in the unity of the one eternal life. Not merely as a man _of_ God, but as a man _in_ God, as no other man has consciously been, does Jesus utter such sayings as, "I am the light of the world," "I and my Father are one." (See "Jesus the Ideal Man," by the present writer. _The New World_, June, 1897.) [50] Romans viii. 19. [51] Ephesians iv. 13. New Testament Handbooks EDITED BY SHAILER MATHEWS _Professor of New Testament History and Interpretation, University of Chicago_ Arrangements are made for the following volumes, and the publishers will, on request, send notice of the issue of each volume as it appears and each descriptive circular sent out later; such requests for information should state whether address is permanent or not:-- THE HISTORY OF THE TEXTUAL CRITICISM OF THE NEW TESTAMENT Prof. MARVIN R. VINCENT, Professor of New Testament Exegesis, Union Theological Seminary. [_Now ready._ Professor Vincent's contributions to the study of the New Testament rank him among the first American exegetes. His most recent publication is "A Critical and Exegetical Commentary on the Epistles to the Philippians and to Philemon" (_International Critical Commentary_), which was preceded by a "Students' New Testament Handbook," "Word Studies in the New Testament," and others. THE HISTORY OF THE HIGHER CRITICISM OF THE NEW TESTAMENT Prof. HENRY S. NASH, Professor of New Testament Interpretation, Cambridge Divinity School. [_Now ready._ Of Professor Nash's "Genesis of the Social Conscience," _The Outlook_ said: "The results of Professor Nash's ripe thought are presented in a luminous, compact, and often epigrammatic style. The treatment is at once masterful and helpful, and the book ought to be a quickening influence of the highest kind; it surely will establish the fame of its author as a profound thinker, one from whom we have a right to expect future inspiration of a kindred sort." INTRODUCTION TO THE BOOKS OF THE NEW TESTAMENT Prof. B. WISNER BACON, Professor of New Testament Interpretation, Yale University. [_Now ready._ Professor Bacon's works in the field of Old Testament criticism include "The Triple Tradition of Exodus," and "The Genesis of Genesis," a study of the documentary sources of the books of Moses. In the field of New Testament study he has published a number of brilliant papers, the most recent of which is "The Autobiography of Jesus," in the _American Journal of Theology_. THE HISTORY OF NEW TESTAMENT TIMES IN PALESTINE Prof. SHAILER MATHEWS, Professor of New Testament History and Interpretation, The University of Chicago. [_Now ready._ _The Congregationalist_ says of Prof. Shailer Mathews's recent work, "The Social Teaching of Jesus": "Re-reading deepens the impression that the author is scholarly, devout, awake to all modern thought, and yet conservative and pre-eminently sane. If, after reading the chapters dealing with Jesus' attitude toward man, society, the family, the state, and wealth, the reader will not agree with us in this opinion, we greatly err as prophets." THE LIFE OF PAUL Prof. RUSH RHEES, President of the University of Rochester. Professor Rhees is well known from his series of "Inductive Lessons" contributed to the _Sunday School Times_. His "Outline of the Life of Paul," privately printed, has had a flattering reception from New Testament scholars. THE HISTORY OF THE APOSTOLIC AGE Dr. C. W. VOTAW, Instructor in New Testament Literature, The University of Chicago. Of Dr. Votaw's "Inductive Study of the Founding of the Christian Church," _Modern Church_, Edinburgh, says: "No fuller analysis of the later books of the New Testament could be desired, and no better programme could be offered for their study, than that afforded in the scheme of fifty lessons on the _Founding of the Christian Church_, by Clyde W. Votaw. It is well adapted alike for practical and more scholarly students of the Bible." THE TEACHING OF JESUS Prof. GEORGE B. STEVENS, Professor of Systematic Theology, Yale University. [_Now ready._ Professor Stevens's volumes upon "The Johannine Theology," "The Pauline Theology," as well as his recent volume on "The Theology of the New Testament," have made him probably the most prominent writer on biblical theology in America. His new volume will be among the most important of his works. THE BIBLICAL THEOLOGY OF THE NEW TESTAMENT Prof. E. P. GOULD, Professor of New Testament Interpretation, Protestant Episcopal Divinity School, Philadelphia. [_Now ready._ Professor Gould's Commentaries on the Gospel of Mark (in the _International Critical Commentary_) and the Epistles to the Corinthians (in the _American Commentary_) are critical and exegetical attempts to supply those elements which are lacking in existing works of the same general aim and scope. THE HISTORY OF CHRISTIAN LITERATURE UNTIL EUSEBIUS Prof. J. W. PLATNER, Professor of Early Church History, Harvard University. Professor Platner's work will not only treat the writings of the early Christian writers, but will also treat of the history of the New Testament Canon. OTHERS TO FOLLOW "An excellent series of scholarly, yet concise and inexpensive New Testament handbooks."--_Christian Advocate_, New York. "These books are remarkably well suited in language, style, and price, to all students of the New Testament."--_The Congregationalist_, Boston. * * * * * THE MACMILLAN COMPANY 66 FIFTH AVENUE, NEW YORK Transcriber's Note (Significant Amendments): p. 28, 'Saltpêtrière' amended to _Salpêtrière_. 
26643	----	THE WORK OF CHRIST PAST, PRESENT AND FUTURE BY A. C. GAEBELEIN Editor of "Our Hope" Price 50 Cents Postpaid PUBLICATION OFFICE "OUR HOPE" 456 FOURTH AVENUE NEW YORK CITY PICKERING & INGLIS GLASGOW, SCOTLAND COPYRIGHT, A. C. GAEBELEIN, 1913 Printed by FRANCIS EMORY FITCH, INC. 47 Broad Street New York CONTENTS The Work of Christ...... His Past Work........... His Present Work........ His Future Work......... THE WORK OF CHRIST THE Word of God reveals, that all things were created by and for the Son of God. "All things were made by Him and without Him was not anything made that was made" (John i:3). "For by Him were all things created that are in heaven, and that are in earth, visible and invisible, whether they be thrones or dominions or principalities or powers; all things were created by Him and for Him" (Col. i:16). When this perfect creation was ruined by the entrance of sin, when man fell and all creation on account of that fall was brought into the bondage of corruption, the work of redemption became a necessity. No creature of God was fitted or fit to do this. Only the Son of God, the Creator Himself, could undertake this mighty work and accomplish it to the Praise and Glory of God. To do this great work, He had to appear on this earth in the form of man. A Threefold Aspect. This work of the Son of God has a threefold aspect. It is a past work, a present work, and beyond the present, there is His future work. His work and service will terminate when He delivers up the kingdom, so that God will be all in all (1 Cor. xv:24-28). This threefold aspect of His work corresponds to His threefold office as Prophet, Priest and King. It has a special meaning for the church. In Ephesians v:25-27, we read of this. He loved the church and gave Himself for it; this is His past work. Since then He is sanctifying the church by the washing of water by the Word, and in the future He will present it to Himself, a glorious church. In virtue of this threefold work of our Lord, believers are saved, are being saved, and will be saved. This threefold work has also a significance for the people Israel. When He came and went to the cross, "He died for that nation" (John xi:42). During the present age His earthly people are not cast away; their miraculous preservation on earth, their continued, separate existence is due to Himself. In the future when He appears as their Redeemer and claims the purchased possession, He will turn away ungodliness from Jacob. And to this we might also add the relation of His work to creation itself, the nations of the earth, and to Satan and his rule. These brief remarks show the importance of distinguishing between this threefold aspect of His work. A Christian who is ignorant of it must be confused in his conception of the truth. He is unable to understand the Word of God, and is unsettled, and even miserable in his Christian experience. Such, alas! is the present condition of a large number of professing Christians. Many are ignorant of what the finished work of Christ on the cross means. On account of this ignorance, they are ever trying to do what God has done for them. How many more are at sea about their position in Christ, and know next to nothing of the priestly work of Christ. The confusion is the greatest in respect to His future work as King. Our theme is therefore an important one. But even God's people, who in a measure have laid hold of these truths, need constantly to be reminded of it and need to have all this through the Spirit's power, as a greater reality in their lives. I. HIS PAST WORK. His past work was accomplished by Him when he became incarnate. It was finished when He died on Calvary's cross. We have therefore to consider first of all these fundamentals of our faith. I. The Work of the Son of God is foreshadowed and predicted in the Old Testament Scriptures. II. The incarnation of the Son of God. III. His Work on the cross and what has been accomplished by it. I. Through the Old Testament Scriptures, God announced beforehand the work of His Son. This is a great theme and one which needs to be emphasized. These foreshadowings and predictions were made in different ways. First we might mention the appearance from time to time on earth of a supernatural Being. This Being was the Son of God. As soon as sin had entered, He appeared on the scene seeking those who were lost. He Himself announced the promise, that the seed of the woman should bruise the serpent's head. He indicated in Genesis iii:15, His incarnation, His redemptive work on the cross and His final victory over the enemy of God. Then He covered the nakedness of His creatures by making them coats of skin. For the first time in the Word of God, it was made known by this act what the blessed fruit of His atoning work would be. Manifestations of Jehovah. And the same Jehovah appeared in visible form unto Abraham. He came as traveller accompanied by two angels. He ate in the presence of Abraham, who worshipped and addressed Him as Lord. This Being was none other than the Son of God, the same who after His resurrection appeared to the two disciples on their way to Emmaus as a traveller, and who, at another occasion, ate of a honeycomb and a piece of fish. In His presence Abraham interceded. This Lord, who visited Abraham later, made fire and brimstone fall from heaven upon Sodom and Gomorrah; He executed judgment. He appeared unto Jacob and was the mysterious man who wrestled with him at Peniel; later Jacob called Him "The Angel, the Redeemer." Repeatedly we hear of Him as "The Angel of the Lord," not a created angel, but an uncreated Being. Moses saw Him in the burning bush, and heard His voice. And while He is spoken of as the angel of the Lord, He revealed Himself as Jehovah and made this Name known to Moses. He was with Israel in the wilderness and dwelled with them in the Glory cloud. He guided them, supplied their need, protected them, judged them and overthrew their enemies. To Joshua He appeared and manifested Himself as "The captain over the Lord's hosts." Manoah and his wife saw Him, and witnessed His ascension into heaven, in the smoke and fire of the sacrifice. Isaiah, Ezekiel and Daniel gazed upon His Glory. All these were but foreshadowings and glimpses of the two great manifestations of the Son of God on earth, as they are necessitated by His work, His manifestation in humiliation and His manifestation in power and glory. Other Foreshadowings of His Work. But there are other foreshadowings of His work. All the divinely given institutions and many of the historical events recorded in the Old Testament foreshadow His work. History, as recorded in the Old Testament, is the preliminary history of the incarnation. The whole sacrificial system of the levitical priesthood told out beforehand, in many ways, what the great redemptive work of the Lamb of God was to be. Each offering and sacrifice revealed the different phases of His work on the cross, as well as His holy and spotless humanity. The sufferings of Christ and their meaning for lost sinners were thus made known. From Abel's lamb to the last lamb, which died before the true Lamb of God uttered the never to be forgotten words on the cross, "It is finished," the thousands of lambs and bulls and goats, the innumerable herds of animals slain, were all types of the one great sacrifice, brought on Calvary's cross. The tabernacle in all its appointments, down to the minutest details, had I some meaning in connection with the Person of Him who is "Wonderful" and His wonderful work. And what else could we say of the historical events, such as the Passover, the passage through the Red Sea, the brazen serpent hung up in the wilderness. And to this we might add how men in their experiences, like Isaac, Joseph, David and others foreshadowed the sufferings of Christ and the glory that should follow. Direct Prophecies. Still more numerous are the direct prophecies announcing the different phases of the work of Christ. That He should appear as man, how and where He should be born, His life, His service, His miracles, all was repeatedly foretold by the Prophets. But the great mass of predictions concern His sufferings as the sin-bearer and His glories as the King. None of the details of His sufferings were omitted. Think, for instance, of the predictions contained in the xxii Psalm. Death by crucifixion was unknown among the Jewish people. No nation in touch with Israel, living at that time, put human beings to death in that way. It was reserved for cruel Rome to invent death; by crucifixion. Yet in this Psalm there is given by divine inspiration a complete picture of that unknown mode of death by crucifixion. We read of His hands and feet pierced, the bones out of joint, the excessive thirst, the tongue cleaving to the jaws. And so we find His resurrection, His presence with God, His coming again and His Kingdom of Righteousness and Glory foretold in the Prophets. The Inspiration of the Old Testament. We emphasize these facts of divine foreshadowing and prediction, because in these last days thousands of men have arisen throughout Christendom who boldly deny the inspiration of the Old Testament. They would have us believe that all these wonderful predictions are of human origin. They brand nearly everything as legend, and declare that there are no Messianic predictions in the Bible, that God did not speak to the Prophets concerning His Son and His work. Such a denial of the revelation of God in the Old Testament Scriptures is but the vanguard of the denial of the Son of God and His work. "Denying the Master that bought them" (2 Peter ii:1), is the leading phase of apostate Christendom in the last days. It is Anti-christianity. This denial is preceded by a denial of the written Word of God. The higher criticism, so called, is Satan's leaven which leavens the theological institutions of Christendom and is fully preparing an empty Christian profession for the reception of the Man of Sin. To believe that these marvelous, harmonious predictions and fore-shadowings contained in the Old Testament are the productions of clever men, legends put together by evil men, who claimed to have received them from God, is far more difficult than to believe that they are given by divine revelation. II. The Incarnation of the Son of God. And now let us turn to the great truth and fact of the Incarnation of the Son of God. When the fulness of time had come, that is the appointed time, the Son of God appeared on earth in the form of man. The Word which was in the beginning, the Word that was with the Father, the Word that was God, the Word by whom all things were made, that Word was made flesh and dwelt on earth. He who subsisted in the form of God, emptied Himself and took upon Himself the form of a servant, and was made in the likeness of men. The incarnation is a deep mystery, the depths of which human reason can never fathom. We must approach it in the spirit of deep reverence. "Take off thy shoes from thy feet for the ground whereon thou standest is holy ground!" In the first chapter of the Gospel of Luke, we have the record of the divine announcement of the incarnation as it was made to the virgin, who had found favor in the sight of God. As she sat in the house, perhaps engaged in holy meditation, the angel Gabriel appeared unto her with the message from the throne of God. Was there ever such a message given to Gabriel before? Great as the revelation was which he was commissioned to carry to praying Daniel, the communication to the Virgin Mary here is far greater. The Incarnation Announced. We read in Luke i:35: "And the angel of the Lord said unto her, The Holy Spirit shall come upon thee, and the power of the Highest shall overshadow thee; therefore also that Holy Thing, which shall be born of thee, shall be called the Son of God." Let us notice the two great statements given about His incarnation. "The Holy Spirit shall come upon thee." From the Gospel of Matthew we learn the full meaning of this statement. "That which is begotten in her is of the Holy Ghost." Therefore His human nature was produced in the virgin by the creative action of the Holy Spirit. Because His human nature was thus produced, it was a nature without sin; not only did He not sin, but He could not sin. He was sinless, absolutely holy, because He was conceived by the Holy Spirit. The second statement is: "And the power of the Highest shall overshadow thee." This is not a repetition of the same truth as contained in the first statement. If this too would mean the Holy Spirit, we would have to conclude that the Holy Spirit is the Father of Him who became incarnate. We read at once after this second statement, "Therefore that Holy Thing, which shall be born of thee, shall be called the Son of God." The power of the Highest does not mean the power of the Holy Spirit. It is none other than the Son of God Himself. The eternal Son of God, He who is God, overshadowed her and this overshadowing meant the union of Himself with the human nature created by the Holy Spirit in the Virgin Mary. He is called "that Holy Thing." He is something entirely new, a Being which cannot be classified. And then we read again, "That Holy Thing shall be called the Son of God." It does not say "shall be the Son of God;" such He ever was. Incarnation did not make Him Son of God. He shall be called Son of God; God manifested in the flesh. Much time could be spent in adding to these remarks, or in reviewing the different attempts which have been made to explain the great mystery. We might also enumerate all the evil teachings and theories which are the results of attempted explanations. But all this would be but waste of time. No human mind can fathom the depths of the incarnation, nor fully grasp the wonderful personality of the God-Man, the Lord Jesus Christ. Far better it is to abide by these simple declarations of the Word of God, than to enter into speculations, which can never solve this great mystery. A certain American statesman was once asked, "Can you comprehend how Jesus Christ could be both God and Man?" The great thinker replied, "No, sir; I cannot. And I would be ashamed to acknowledge Him as my Saviour if I could, for then He would not be greater than myself." This is very true indeed. With joyful and grateful hearts we believe the great revelation given to us in God's holy Word, that God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son and that the Son of God left Heaven's Glory and came to this earth. He emptied Himself and appeared in the form of the creature. This, however, does not mean what an evil theory, by the name of "Kenosis," teaches, that He emptied Himself of His Godhead. He emptied Himself of His outward Glory. The child which rested on the bosom of Mary is the One, who ever was in the bosom of the Father. Listen once more to the language of the xxii Psalm. "I was cast upon thee from the womb; Thou art my God from my mother's belly. Thou didst make me hope when I was upon my mother's breasts." What mere human child could have ever said this truthfully? Nor is this the language of a poet. The child born in Bethlehem alone could speak thus. The Foundation of the Gospel. The incarnation is the great foundation of the whole Gospel. No incarnation means no Gospel, no Hope and no God. The person who denies this truth has no right whatever to the name of Christian. At no time has the denial of this great foundation truth been so pronounced and widespread as in our times. Men believing themselves wise, in possession of greater knowledge than former generations, turn their backs upon revelation. The miracle, including the incarnation, is denied. And this denial is not from the side of outspoken infidels alone, but those who profess to be teachers of Christianity are the foremost leaders in it. We mention Reginald Campbell and his followers in the so-called "New Theology." And the hundreds of evangelical preachers, who wished this man Godspeed during his recent visit to America, who passed resolutions of thanks, after listening to his subtle infidelity, are, in the light of 2 John 10, partakers of his sin. And then there is that Anti-christian system, known by the name of Christian Science. In its so-called philosophical, in reality, satanic utterances, it opposes the revelation of God and denies that Jesus Christ is come into the flesh. That evil book, "Science and Health," to which we readily accord inspiration, not from above, but from below, teaches "The Virgin Mary conceived the idea of God and gave to her ideal the name of Jesus;" and again "Jesus was the offspring of Mary's self-communion with God." It is a comfort to believers in these evil days to remember, that such a rejection of the doctrine of Christ, His Person and His work, is predicted in the Bible to take place immediately before the Lord comes. The end of the age is upon us. These denials will not decrease, but become more numerous. The Purpose of the Incarnation. And what was the purpose of the incarnation? By incarnation the invisible God was made known to man. The Lord Jesus Christ is the image of the invisible God. No man hath seen God at any time, the only Begotten, who is in the bosom of the Father, hath declared Him. As One with the Father, the Lord Jesus Christ could say, "Whosoever seeth Me, seeth the Father." The attributes of God were made known by Him in incarnation. We behold the holiness of God in that holy life, which was lived on earth to glorify the Father. He manifested omniscience. He knew what was in men and knew their thoughts. He manifested the power of God in controlling the forces of nature, commanding the wind and the waves, turning water into wine. He had power over disease, over the demons and over death. He revealed the Love and the compassion of God. By incarnation the Son of God brought likewise the Word of God to man. "God who at sundry times and in divers manners spake in time past unto the Fathers by the Prophets, hath in these last days spoken unto us by His Son" (Hebrews i:1). He confirmed the Law and the Prophets, therefore all criticism of the Old Testament attacks the authority and infallibility of the Son of God. He also revealed the will of God, made known the Father and the fact of eternal life, and the eternal and conscious punishment of the wicked. He predicted the great future events concerning Himself and His Kingdom, the end of the age and His visible Return. The incarnation was necessary in anticipation of His work as the Priest of His people. He was to be after His death on the cross and after resurrection, the merciful and faithful High Priest. Such He is now. He took part of flesh and blood, we read in the second chapter of Hebrews, that He might be a merciful and faithful High Priest. He was tempted in all things as we are, with the exception of sin. He suffered in being tempted so that He might be touched with the feeling of our infirmities and succour them that are tempted. And all He was to be and is now, the Second Man, the last Adam, the head of the church, the head of the new creation, all and much else necessitated His incarnation. What Incarnation could not Accomplish. However, the great purpose of the incarnation of the Son of God was His work of redemption. For this great purpose He came into the world. He came that, after a life, which completely glorified the Father and upheld His holy law and vindicated God's rights as the lawgiver, He might accomplish the great work of atonement. John stated this great work the Son of God came to do in a brief sentence, "Behold the Lamb of God, which taketh away the sin of the world." Sin, that accursed thing, had to be taken out of the way. Propitiation for sins had to be made. A sacrifice had to be brought which would glorify a holy God and satisfy, as well as exalt, His righteousness. Peace had to be made. The sins of many had to be paid and the full penalty of them to be borne. Incarnation in itself, the marvelous and ever blessed humiliation of the Son of God by taking on the human form, His holy blessed life, His loving words, words of life and peace, yea, all He did in deeds of love and compassion could never accomplish this. Incarnation brought God to Man, but could never bring man back to a holy God. Incarnation could not make an end of sin, nor make it possible for a righteous God to show mercy to the fallen and the lost, in a righteous way. This great work of redemption could only be accomplished by His death on the cross. For this He had come. He came to put away sin by the sacrifice of Himself. The Author and Prince of Life came that He might give His Life a ransom for many. The good Shepherd appeared to give His life for the sheep. By His death alone, the great work of redemption could be accomplished. III. His work on the Cross and What has been Accomplished by It. And now let us consider His work on the cross and what has been accomplished by it. But who is able to speak worthily of this theme of all themes? Who can fathom the solemn yet blessed fact, the death of the Son of God on the cross? What tongue or pen can describe the sad, yet glorious truth, that the Just One died for the unjust, that Christ died for the ungodly! He who knew no sin was made sin for us! And what human mind can estimate the wonderful results of His work on the cross! Some Christians speak as if the death on the cross, the work accomplished there, is so fully known to them, that they do not need any more instruction on it. They tell us that they search for deeper things. There can be nothing deeper than the death of God's Son on the cross. Depths are here which are unfathomable. We must ever turn back to the cross. Always we shall learn something new. With unspeakable Glory upon us and greater glory before us in eternal ages to come, the cross of Christ and the Lamb of God which has taken away the sin of the world can never be forgotten. But we shall never know what that death on the cross meant for Him and what it meant to God. Made Sin for Us. In Hebrews x we read of the sacrifices which were offered by the Jews year after year. These sacrifices could not take away sin. Then He, the Son of God, stepped forward and made His great declaration. Coming into the world He saith, "Sacrifice and offering Thou wouldest not, but a body hast Thou prepared me. In burnt offerings and sacrifices for sins Thou hadst no pleasure" (verses 4-5). The body prepared puts before us again the fact of incarnation. That body was a prepared body, a holy body, an undefiled body, a body in which sin could not dwell and on which death had no claim. But when He took on that body, He likewise said: "Lo? come to do Thy will, O God." In the tenth verse we read, "By the which will (the will of God, which dates back before the foundation of the world), we are sanctified through the offering of the body of Jesus Christ once for all." Through the eternal Spirit He offered Himself without spot to God. The holy Lamb of God, with no spot or blemish upon Him, shed His precious blood on the cross, to procure redemption. But what it all meant for Him who was as truly Man as He is God! Here was a Being perfectly holy, One who had always pleased God and did His will, yea, His meat and drink was to do the will of Him that sent Him. Sin was the horrible defiling thing to Him. He, too, like the holy God, hated and hates sin. And yet such a One was made sin for us. He had to stand in the place of guilty sinners and all the waves and billowy of divine judgment and wrath had to pass over Him. He drank the cup of wrath to the last drop. He suffered in a fourfold way. 1. In Himself Before He ever approached the garden of Gethsemane, He was troubled in His spirit. We hear Him say, "Now my soul is troubled--Father, save me from this hour, but for this cause came I to this hour." He looked on towards the cross. And why that agony in the garden? Why was His sweat as it were great drops of blood? Why the repeated prayer, "Father, if it is possible, let this cup pass from me?" How many dishonoring explanations have been written of the Gethsemane suffering, as if He was afraid to die or that the devil tried to kill Him there to prevent his death on the cross, and that He feared the devil. But what was it? He suffered in Himself. His holy soul shrank from that which a holy God must hate, that which He hated--SIN. He was about to be made sin and He knew no sin. What suffering this produced in the Holy One of God to take all upon Himself and to stand in the sinner's place before a holy sin-hating God, our poor finite minds cannot realize. 2. He suffered from men. This he had foretold. When man, guilty man, cast Himself upon the willing victim, all the wickedness and vileness and cruelty man is capable of committing was brought out and spent upon the blessed Son of God. The scourging, the buffeting, the mocking, the spitting and the shame connected with it, the shame of the cross, He despised. How that sensitive body must have quivered under it all! 3. He suffered from the devil. He had tempted him. Nothing was left undone, what this wonderful Being could do. All His cunning and powers were brought into use, with the one purpose to keep Him from going to the cross and dying in the sinner's place. And when at last he could not keep Him from going to the cross, then he cast himself upon the victim and heaped all his hatred and malice upon Him. He used man in all this awful work and no doubt the legions of demons. And in all this the Son of God was as a lamb, which is dumb before the shearers. He opened not His mouth. 4. But the greatest of all, He suffered from God. With hushed breath, we must speak of this. It is the Holy of Holies of the great work on the cross, the impenetrable mystery of the atoning work of the Son of God. From the darkness which enshrouded the cross and the blessed sufferer on the accursed tree, there came the mournful cry: "My God, My God, why hast Thou forsaken me?" It made known the awful suffering, which the Lamb of God, the substitute of sinners, endured from the hand of a holy God. He was smitten and afflicted of God. Have you noticed that in the xxii Psalm this cry of the sufferer on the cross stands first? Man would have written the sufferings of Christ in a far different way. The descriptions of the sufferings not written by inspiration would have been in this wise: The physical sufferings, how they scourged Him, all the sickening details of that which even cruel Rome called the intermediate death, would have been pictured. Then would have followed a description of how the nails were driven into the blessed hands who had lovingly touched so many weary, sin-laden and disease-stricken bodies. All the agony of the cross and its shame would have been described first by man. Then how the multitude mocked and darkness came over the entire scene--then last of all, it would have been stated, He cried, My God, My God, why hast Thou forsaken me? But the Holy Spirit in this great Prophecy puts the cry of deepest agony first. Why? Because in that hour the great work of atonement, propitiation, sin-bearing, judgment and wrath enduring, was once and for all accomplished. In this same Psalm we read what men energized by Satan's power, did unto Him. But man could not put Him to death. It is written, "Thou (that is God) hast brought me into the dust of death." God's own hand rested upon Him. "God laid upon Him the iniquity of us all" (Isaiah liii:6). "It pleased the Lord to bruise Him; He hath put Him to grief." And elsewhere we read, what refers to the same atoning work of our Lord when He stood in the sinner's place. "All Thy waves and billows go over me" (Ps. xlii:7). "Thine arrows stick fast in Me" (Ps. xxxviii:2). "Thine hand presses me sore" (Ps. xxxviii:2). "Thou hast laid me into the lowest pit" (Ps. lxxxviii:6). "Thy wrath lieth hard upon me" (Ps. lxxxviii:7). "Thy fierce wrath goeth over me" (Ps. lxxxviii:16). "I suffer Thy terrors" (Ps. lxxxviii:15). But what it all meant for the Son of God! Who can tell out His sorrow and deep affliction? Never shall we fully discover the greatness of the price which was paid. The death of the cross, it has been truly said, stands perfectly alone. It can never be repeated and because of its eternal efficacy, will never need to be repeated. _It is Finished._ And this great work He came to do, is finished. "It is finished!" thus He spoke on the cross and the words assure us that all is done. The rent veil and the open tomb tell us "It is finished." But what has been accomplished in this blessed work? We cannot fully grasp it now as long as we look into a glass darkly. When at last we are brought into His Presence, transformed into His own image, when we shall have share with Him in His glorious inheritance, when at last sin and death are no more and a new heaven and new earth are called into existence, then shall we more fully know what that work has accomplished. All, ALL we have and are, all we shall have and shall be as His own, has its blessed source in the cross of Christ. He died for all. He gave Himself a ransom for all. He tasted death for every man. He is the propitiation for the whole world (not for the sins of the whole world, else the whole world would be saved). It means His work is available to all sinners. Upon that fact that He died for all, the Gospel is preached to lost and guilty sinners. Christ died for the ungodly. "Whosoever will"--"Whosoever believeth," these are the precious conditions of the Gospel of Grace which sounds forth from the finished work of Christ on the cross. And all who believe on Him and accept the Lord Jesus Christ as their Saviour, for them He bore their sins on the cross. Each believing sinner can look back to the cross and can say, "He loved me, He gave Himself for me." He paid my debt. He bore my sins in His own body on the tree. He stood in my place. He was my substitute. He tasted death for me. Much of the evil teachings of the present day, such as universal salvation, larger hope, millennial dawnism, etc., emanate from the fact that propitiation and substitution are not correctly understood. Propitiation is the Godward side of the sacrifice of Christ, with this God is satisfied. The propitiation is for the whole world. This does not mean that the whole world is therefore to be saved. He bore the sins of many--not the sins of all. He was the substitute on the cross only for such who believe on Him. And what do we possess who have believed on Him, own Him as our Saviour and our Substitute? Many Scriptures might be read in answer to this question. We cannot do so, but shall mention briefly a few things which all believing sinners share on account of the finished work of Christ on the cross. We have a perfect justification. All our sins are forever put away, because they were borne and paid for by His death on the cross. The Blood of Jesus Christ, His Son, cleanses us from all sin. All has been righteously and forever settled. "Who shall bring any accusation against God's elect? It is God who justifies, who is he that condemns? It is Christ who has died." "There is therefore now no condemnation to those in Christ Jesus." We have perfect Peace with God. Peace has been made in the blood of the cross. It can never be unmade. We have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ. He is our Peace. So many Christians think their peace with God depends on their walk and service. If they sin, they think they have lost their peace and their standing before God and unless they are restored, they will be lost forever. Not our walk and service, not anything we have done, we do or shall do, is the ground of peace with God, but what God has done for us in Christ's atoning on the cross. Then we have a perfect acceptance and standing before God; perfect nearness and access to God. We are made nigh by the blood. With no more conscience of sins, we can stand in God's own presence, purged and cleansed, complete in Him, as near to God as He is. His blessed work on the cross has made an end of the old man. We are dead to the world, to self, to sin, to the law. The old man was crucified with Christ. "Sin shall have no more dominion over you." This is the blessed message from the cross. We have deliverance from the power of darkness and a perfect title to an eternal inheritance. No uncertainty is attached to all this. We have salvation, are saved, forever secure, Sons of God, Heirs of God indwelt by the Holy Spirit, and much else, on account of the finished work of Christ on the cross. And to all this we add that on the cross He loved the church and gave Himself for it. There He died for Israel and as a result the remnant of that people will some day be delivered from iniquity and perverse-ness, as Balaam, beheld them, "no iniquity in Jacob and no perverseness in Israel" (Numbers xxiii:21). Groaning creation will ultimately be freed from the bondage of corruption and brought into the liberty of the sons of God, because He shed His blood on the cross. All things in heaven and on the earth (not things under the earth) will be reconciled in virtue of the death of Christ on the cross. Ye are not Your Own. Let us remember as such who have been reconciled and have redemption through His blood that we are bought with a price. "Ye are not your own for ye are bought with a price, therefore glorify God in your body, and in your spirit, which are God's" (1 Cor. vi:20). Through His death we are positionally dead; all who believe on Him have died. We are dead to the law, to the world, to sin. But are we truly living, walking and acting as such who have died, dead to sin and alive unto God? A child of God who walks after the flesh practically denies the power and value of the blessed finished work of Christ on the cross. Let us exalt in our lives, by our words and deeds, the cross of Christ. "But God forbid that I should glory, save in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ, by whom the world is crucified unto me, and I unto the world" (Gal. vi:14). II. THE WORK OF CHRIST. The great work which the Lord Jesus Christ, God's well beloved Son, came to do was to put away sin by the sacrifice of Himself. This finished work of the cross is the basis of His present work and His future work. What mind can estimate the value and preciousness of that work in which the Holy One offered Himself through the eternal Spirit without spot unto God! He procured redemption by His death on the cross. In His present work and much more in the future work, He works out this great redemption into result. There is much confusion in the minds of Christians about the present and future work of Christ. Many speak of the Lord being now the King of kings and Lord of lords, reigning over the earth. They speak of Him as occupying the throne of His father David in heaven. The church, according to this teaching, is His Kingdom, and that kingdom is gradually being enlarged under His spiritual reign until the whole world has been brought into this kingdom. All this is wrong. The Lord Jesus Christ will reign over the earth; He will have a kingdom of glory, of righteousness and peace on this earth; the nations of the earth will have to submit to His government, but all this is still to come. It will be accomplished with His visible Return to the earth, when He will claim as the second Man the dominion of the earth. His kingly rule is future. His present work is of another nature. I. The Bodily Presence of Christ in Glory. Our blessed Lord gave on the cross the body, which He had taken in incarnation. That body died. It was the only part of Him, which could die. But that body so dishonored by man, scourged and nailed to the cross, could not see corruption. He arose from the dead. The mighty power of God opened that grave and raised Him from the dead. This mighty power of God, which brought Him forth is the power which is towards us who believe. It is on our side (Eph. i:19). And God not alone raised Him from the dead, but He gave Him glory (1 Peter i:21). If I were to teach on the resurrection of the Lord Jesus Christ, I would demonstrate two things. First, that He actually arose; the indisputable fact, that He who had really died, who was dead bodily, arose bodily, and, in the second place, the all important meaning of His resurrection. The Apostle Paul writes in that great chapter in First Corinthians, "If Christ be not raised, your faith is vain; ye are yet in your sins. Then they also which are fallen asleep in Christ are perished" (1 Cor. xv:18). In other words, if the Lord Jesus Christ came not forth from the tomb, where His blessed body had been laid and where it rested for three days, if He did not leave that grave in a bodily form, His death on the cross would have no more meaning than the death of any other human being. Then that blood which was shed could never take away our sins and give the guilty conscience rest. Furthermore, the countless beings, who passed out of this life trusting in Christ, would have all perished. But Christ rose from the dead. There can be no doubt about it. The witnesses for it are simply unanswerable. His Physical Resurrection. His resurrection from the dead was God's answer to His prayers with strong crying and tears. "Who in the days of his flesh, when he had offered prayers and supplication with strong crying and tears unto him that was able to save him from death, and was heard in that he feared" (Heb. v:27). This took place in Gethsemane. The answer to His prayers and tears came from God on the morning of the first day. His resurrection from the dead was the "Amen" of God to His triumphant shout on the cross, "It is finished." By raising Him from the dead, God set His seal to the work of Christ on the cross. God gave His witness by it that the work, which was demanded by His holiness and righteousness, had been fully accomplished. Guilty man can now be righteously acquitted from His guilt because God's eternal righteousness was upheld and satisfied by His own Son in that He paid the penalty. before God rolled away the stone? He had shown that the work done was pleasing to Him. It seemed as if God could not wait for the third day. His hand took hold of the veil, which hid the Holy of Holies from the eyes of man. He rent that veil from top to bottom. He showed thereby that He, the Holy God, could now come forth in fullest blessing to man, and man bought by such a price, can approach into the presence of God and be at home with Him, a loving Father. Sinners saved by grace can enter into the Holiest by the blood of Jesus, by the new and living way. And how did He come forth from the grave? It has already been stated. He arose with the body He had taken on in incarnation, the body which could not see corruption. He left the grave in a corporeal form. It was not a phantom, but a tangible body. The nailprints were still seen in His hands and in His feet. The side showed the place where the spear had entered. He appeared in that body in the midst of His disciples and showed unto them His hands and His side. And when at another time they cried out for fear, He said, "Behold, my hands and my feet, that it is myself; handle me and see, for a spirit has not flesh and bones, as ye see me have" (Luke xxiv:39-40). And while they believed not for joy, He proved His corporeality by eating a piece of broiled fish and of a honeycomb. But while it was the same body it was also a glorified body. Such a body, like unto His own glorious body, we shall receive some blessed day in exchange for the body of humiliation; for this redemption of the body we still wait as well as those who have fallen asleep in Jesus. Passing through the Heavens. In this body He left the earth and passed through the heavens into heaven itself. What a scene that must have been! What must have taken place after He had been lifted up and disappeared out of sight from the gazing disciples! They saw Him as He was lifted up, the same Lord Jesus, until the glory cloud, the Shekinah, took Him up and in that cloud He was taken into the heavens, where the physical eye could not follow. What a triumphant entrance into the heavens it must have been! Perhaps the mighty Archangel accompanied Him, the victor over Sin, Death, the Grave and Satan; for the Archangel will accompany Him some day in His descent out of heaven. The Lord went up with a shout (Psalm xlvii:5). He will return with the victor's shout. When He comes back, He will be attended by the mighty angels. May not these heavenly hosts have been present as He ascended on high? And as the Man Christ Jesus passed upward through the territory, which is still the domain of Satan, the prince of the power in the air, the wicked tenants of the air fell back in fear and trembling. The glorified Man passed on, upward, higher and higher. Nothing could arrest His progress. The mighty power of God raised Him up. Through the second heaven He passed, where the wonderful stars, the creation of His own power, describe their great orbits around their fiery suns. He is still attended by angels, and the angelic hosts beheld Him, who were also the witnesses of His sufferings, His death and resurrection. At last a place was reached where every angel had to halt. Even the Archangel had to cover His face and cry, "Holy! Holy!" Yonder is the third heaven and there stands the glorious throne of God. The glorified Man advances alone; He ascended on high into the immediate presence of His God and our God, His Father and our Father. The welcoming voice of God Himself bade Him to take His seat on His own right hand until His enemies are made His footstool. What must it have been when the only begotten Son returned to His eternal dwelling place as the First begotten, and God as well as He himself beheld the host of redeemed sinners brought by Him into that Glory! The highest place was given to Him, who died on the cross, far above all principality and power, and might, and dominion, and every name that is named. There He is now the Man in the Glory. Once more let me state it, the Lord Jesus Christ is corporeally present in the highest heaven. Everything depends on this. If His physical resurrection and corporeal presence in the highest heaven is denied, His present work and future work are an impossibility, and we rob ourselves of every comfort, joy and peace. Then, too, His atoning work on the cross has no meaning for us. A Fundamental Truth Denied. And too often this great truth of the bodily presence of Christ in heaven is denied in these days of departure from the faith. They teach, His resurrection was a spiritual one, that He lives only by His words. The denial of the literal resurrection of our blessed Lord and His presence in heaven has become very widespread. Three evil systems especially deny it. 1. Unitarianism. As a sect this denomination is small, but the leaven of Unitarianism is leavening Christendom. All this criticism of the Bible, the new theology, a more liberal religion, but all aiming at the essential Deity of our blessed Lord, His incarnation and resurrection from the dead, is the leaven of Unitarianism. At a recent annual service of the British and Foreign Unitarian Association the chairman observed that "earnest and thoughtful men, occupying pulpits once dedicated to the propagation of doctrines strictly orthodox, were now preaching a Gospel, which for liberality and broadmindedness even surpassed the Unitarianism of three or four generations ago." 2. Christian Science. This new science is not new, but is the revival, through satanic powers, of ancient Gnosticism, a denial of every article of the faith once and for all delivered unto the saints. Prominent in this system is the denial of the physical resurrection, and the bodily presence of the Lord Jesus in Glory. It is the masterpiece of Satan. Its phenomenal growth attracts to its ranks such of the Christian profession, who were never saved or whose knowledge of the truth of God is insufficient. There will be no abatement of this great delusion. It will continue to grow and become more powerful as the Gospel is denied and God's Word rejected. 3. Millennial Dawnism. This is another great and widespread system. In it Satan appears even more so than in Christian Science as an angel of light. It is offered throughout this land as "food for Christians" and goes by the name of "Bible Study." One meets it everywhere. What is it? It is an amalgamation of several of the evil theories concerning the Person of Christ, denying, like Unitarianism and Christian Science, the absolute Deity of our Lord. "Pastor" Russell in his books also denies the physical resurrection of Christ. According to this system the body of our Lord was either dissolved in its natural gases or is preserved as a memorial somewhere. This, of course, means the denial of His bodily presence in heaven. But think of it! To say that the body of our Lord was dissolved in its natural gases, when the Word so clearly states "He could not see corruption." II. The Present Work of Christ; What It Is. As Man in Glory, crowned with glory and honor, He is occupied in a present work. He is in the presence of God as the Heir of all things. He is the upholder of all and all things consist by Him. This great universe, with its innumerable stars and suns, is under His control; it belongs to Him. How man ever since the fall attempts to penetrate the mysterious depths of the universe! Scientists with their glasses scan the heavens and try to regain the knowledge of creation, which was lost by the fall of man, Their discoveries astonish us. How marvelous the heavens are! How they declare the glory of God and the firmament His handiwork! Often too has the search of fallen man into the depths of the universe demonstrated the truth of God given by revelation in His word. And yet the great questions we ask of astronomers concerning this great universe are answered with "we do not know." Some day in the twinkling of an eye we shall know more about this great universe than all the knowledge gained by fallen man. But this universe rests in the hands of the Man in Glory. He is the great central sun around which all revolves. We do not know if there is any work to be done in connection with the great bodies which we see in the great space about us. We do not know what changes go on there. But we do know that all is in His hands. All is under His control. We must also think of the angels, the heavenly hosts. He has been made, after His passion, so much better than the angels, as He hath by inheritance obtained a more excellent name than they (Heb. i:4). What may go on in this great world above, the world of unseen spirits, who can tell? But they are all under His control. How He sends them forth and uses them in His providential dealings with His people on earth, and how He restrains through these unseen agencies the wrath of the enemy and the evil work of demons, we do not know fully. "Are they not all ministering spirits sent forth to minister to them, who shall be heirs of salvation" (Heb. i:14). This and much else, though not fully revealed, and hidden from us, belongs also to His present work. We mention this that we might have a higher estimate of our Lord and realize anew what a mighty and wonderful Lord we have. But there is a present work of our Lord in Glory, which is fully revealed in His Word. In the first place, He is the Mediator between God and Man, and being preached as such to the world, He exercises His office as the Mediator throughout this present age (1 Tim. ii:5-6). Besides this Mediatorship, He has a service which concerns those for whom He died and who, by personal faith, have accepted Him as their Saviour. The Lord Knoweth His Own. "The Lord knoweth them that are His." What a blessed thought of comfort and cheer it is, which should forever banish fear and unbelief! The Lord, the One seated there in the Holiest, knows us personally. He knew us before we ever were in existence. He saw us before the foundation of the world. He knew all our vileness and the depths of degradation. He knew us as we wandered in our sins. His loving eyes followed us then. He sought us in His love and brought us to Himself. He gave us His life and dwells in us. Each believing sinner, saved by grace, is one Spirit with the Lord. "I know my sheep." He calleth each by name, like a Shepherd calleth his own sheep. Again He said "I know them." What a comfort it should be to our hearts, that He knows each of us by name. He knows our circumstances, trials, difficulties and temptations. He knows our conflicts and our tears. "He knoweth the way which I take." It is very precious! In the xxxii Psalm we find the comforting word for one whose transgression is forgiven, whose sin is covered, "I will guide thee with mine eye," or as it should read, "I will guide thee with mine eye upon thee." That eye up yonder, that eye which measures the depths of the universe, which follows every planet, that eye which neither sleeps nor slumbers, that all-seeing eye rests upon us. He is occupied with each. The millions of His people who have lived and died, who passed through life and are now at home with Him, were each individually the objects of His care. His loving eye was upon the multitudes of martyrs. He knew and watched that poor tortured saint, who was cast with broken bones into a dungeon to starve to death. His power and love rested upon those who were burned or cast before the wild animals. For each He served and worked. And so He does still. Oh, the preciousness that each believer is under the loving care of the Man in Glory, the object of His love. Let us turn to a few Scriptures which reveal this fact. Living for Us. In Romans v:10 we read: "For if, when we were enemies, we were reconciled to God by the death of His Son, much more, being reconciled, we shall be saved by His life." What life is meant by which we are saved? Some have applied it to the life of the Lord Jesus Christ before His death on the cross, as if that righteous life, that perfect life, had any saving power in it for us. Hence the teaching that the righteousness of His life is imputed unto us. This is wrong. The life, of which this verse speaks, is the life which He lives now in the Presence of God. When we were enemies we were reconciled to God by the death of His Son. And now being reconciled, much more are we saved by His life. By His life there, because He is there, we are saved and kept down here. Another passage in Romans may be linked with this. Romans viii:34: "Who is he that condemneth? It is Christ that died, yea rather, that is risen again, who is even at the right hand of God, who also maketh intercession for us." The risen Christ is at the right hand of God and maketh intercession for us. However, not in the Epistle to the Romans is this present work of Christ as the intercessor of His redeemed people revealed, but in the Epistle to the Hebrews. There we read in the ninth chapter, "For Christ is not entered into the holy places made with hands, which are the figures of the true: but into heaven itself, now to appear in the presence of God for us." (Heb. ix:24). And again in chapter vii:24, 25: "But this man, because he continueth forever, hath an unchangeable priesthood. Wherefore he is able also to save them to the uttermost that come unto God by him, seeing he ever liveth to make intercession for them." But notice all this is not spoken of those who are unsaved and live in sin. The unsaved who are not yet Christ's have no share in all this. For the unsaved world the Lord is not the intercessor. He declared this truth first of all in His high-priestly prayer, when He said, "I pray for them, I pray not for the world" (John xvii:9). This was also foreshadowed in the Old Testament. The High Priest in His garments of Beauty and Glory had upon his shoulders two onyx stones, and upon his breast a breastplate with twelve stones. Upon both the onyx stones, upon the shoulder and the twelve stones on the breastplate there were names engraven. But these were not the names of the Egyptians, the Jebusites, the Amorites or the Hittites, but the names of the twelve tribes of Israel. Our high priest in the highest heaven carries His own upon His shoulders, which typify His power, and upon His bosom He carrieth them; the bosom tells of His love. We are the objects of the power and the love of Him who appears in the presence of God for us. The fact that the names of the Israelites were engraven upon these precious stones also has a meaning. If they had been written there, they might be blotted out. They were engraven and could never be erased. It tells out the blessed truth of our security. His Priesthood. Two other passages in Hebrews reveal some of the blessed details of the present priestly work of the Lord in our behalf. "Wherefore in all things it behooved him to be made like unto his brethren, that he might be a merciful and faithful High Priest in things pertaining to God, to make reconciliation for the sins of the people. For in that he himself hath suffered, being tempted, he is able to succour them that are tempted" (Hebrews ii:17, 18). "Seeing then that we have a great High Priest, that is passed through the heavens, Jesus the Son of God, let us hold fast our confession. For we have not an high priest which cannot be touched with the feeling of our infirmities; but was in all points tempted like we are, apart from sin. Let us therefore come boldly unto the throne of grace, that we may obtain mercy, and find grace to help in time of need" (Hebrews iv:14-16). The first passage tells of the propitiation He made for the sins of the people. He suffered, being tempted, and this is the basis of His intercessory service. The passage from the fourth chapter tells us how He was fitted while on earth for this great office work. While down here He was tempted in all points as we are, apart from sin. From sin within He could never be tempted, for no sin was in Him. He has gone through the trials, the difficulties and sufferings a man who depends on God is subject to while in this world, with the exception of sin. He has known while on earth every possible difficulty. Now He can be a merciful and faithful high priest and as such enter into all our sorrows and trials. He sympathizes with us in all our conflicts and difficulties down here. However, He does not intercede for the flesh--He has no sympathy with sin. By His gracious and unbroken intercession in the sanctuary, He upholds us individually in the path down here. He gives strength to endure. If it were not for that intercession, we all would fall by the way. How often God's people fear troubles and difficulties, losses and bereavements, which might possibly come. What, if this favored child should be taken from me, how could I stand it? Or, if I should lose her whom I love? Or my health should fail? Perhaps my business and income stops, how could I ever stand it? Often that which we fear comes upon us. That loved one is taken and is put into a grave. Health fails and the income stops; instead of plenty there is want. But with the trial, with the loss, there comes such a strength to bear it all, and more than that, real joy and songs of praise. It is because the great High Priest lives and intercedes. He knows all about it and in the tenderness of His love and the might of His power, He takes us in His loving arms whenever trials and troubles come upon us. At all times under all circumstances He is our representative before God and thinks of us. And so it is with our temptations and our warfare with the wicked spirits. The enemy we have is most powerful and intelligent. He knows how to spread his nets. His wiles are most subtle. If Satan had his way he would overthrow and destroy completely the people of God on earth. If it depended on our strength, we would soon fall. But He knows. His eyes watch the enemy as they watch us. Peter's case illustrates this perfectly. He saw the old serpent as he moved on his way towards Peter. He knew the cunning plan Satan had conceived to ensnare Peter. In Judas he had entered and taken complete possession of the disciple, who was never born again. He planned to fell Peter completely and rush him afterwards into despair. But Satan did not reckon with Peter's Lord. Before the plan could ever be carried out, the Lord had prayed for Peter that His faith may not fail. And though Peter denied the Lord and fell, the Lord's gracious intercession kept him through it all. And this is still the case with us. He prays for us before that foe can ever approach us and thus we can be victorious in the conflict and should we stumble and fall, as it is so often the case, then He is the great shepherd "who restoreth my soul." How much we owe to this blessed, precious present work of our Lord in Glory no one knows. What blessed revelation there will come to us when we shall know as we are known, when we look back over our lives and behold what the intercession of the Lord Jesus accomplished for us and all the Saints of God! We have a great high priest who is passed through the heavens, Jesus the Son of God. Another phase of His priestly present work is recorded in Heb. xiii:15. "By him therefore let us offer the sacrifice of praise to God continually, that is, the fruit of our lips giving thanks to his name." He presents our spiritual sacrifices to God. Our worship, our praise and our prayers we address to God, the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, are all imperfect, but as they are presented to God by Him, they are acceptable unto God and delight the heart of God for that reason. His Advocacy. But there is a second aspect of His work in Glory in the presence of God for His people. He is our advocate with the Father. Some Christians think that the Priesthood and Advocacy of Christ are one and the same. They are not. His advocacy is that which restores us. In the first Epistle of John we read of this phase of His present work. "My little children, these things write I unto you, that ye sin not. And if any man sin, we have an advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ the righteous" (John ii:1). In the preceding chapter our wonderful privilege as the children of God is made known. We are to be in fellowship with the Father and with His Son Jesus Christ. What does that mean? Fellowship with the Father is when we delight ourselves in His basket Son, who is His delight, when we share the Father's own thoughts about Him. The Son knoweth the Father and He has revealed Him and brought us into His own relationship with the Father. Fellowship with His Son is to enjoy this relationship with the Father. The condition for the enjoyment of this privilege in reality, fellowship with the Father and with His Son is, that we walk in the light as He is in the light. These blessed things were written that we sin not. Sin cannot rob us of our salvation, but it mars the enjoyment of that fellowship. The standard is that we sin not, and if we live in constant enjoyment of that blessed fellowship into which grace has brought us, we do not sin. But how often this is not the case. We fall into sin. Then the blessed revelation is given: "If any man sin we have an advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ the Righteous." How grateful we ought to be that it does not say: If any man repent. The Lord's intercession as advocate is independent of our repentance or of our asking Him to do this for us. It is the exercise of grace in His own loving heart toward us to restore our souls, to put us back into the place where we can enjoy His fellowship. The moment the believer sins on earth, He acts as the Advocate above. The Holy Spirit then likewise acts in that He applies the Word to convict and cleanse. The cleansing is by the water, the Word, and not a second time by the blood. Then follows confession from our side and the restoration is effected. Also notice that it does not say "we have an Advocate with God," but "with the Father." It is a family matter, and the Father is a Father who can do nothing but love those whom He has brought to himself through His Son. The conception that the Father is angry with His sinning child on earth, and that the Son of God by His pleadings inclines the heart of God to be merciful, is an unscriptural one. Another reason why He acts thus as Advocate is Satan, the accuser of the brethren. He still has access into the presence of God. The day will come when He is cast out of heaven, but that day will not come until the church has been caught up to meet the Lord in the air. "And the great dragon was cast out, that serpent, called the Devil, and Satan, which deceiveth the whole world: he was cast out into the earth, and his angels were cast out with him. "And I heard a loud voice saying in heaven, Now is come salvation, and strength, and the kingdom of our God, and the power of His Christ; for the accuser of our brethren is cast down, which accused them before our God day and night" (Rev. xii:9-10). Because Satan accuses God's people before God day and night, the Advocate is there to rebuke him. Every attack by accusation of the sinning children of God, the Lord Jesus Christ meets with the fact that He made propitiation; He died for their sins. He Shall not Fail nor be Discouraged. And this work of Himself as our Priest, the merciful and faithful High Priest and our Advocate goes on up yonder uninterruptedly. In Isaiah we find a word which speaks of Him, "He shall not fail nor be discouraged." Well may we apply this to His present work as Priest and Advocate of His own. As Priest He will never fail. He will never fail in being about His own, in keeping them and sustaining them, in sending them help from the sanctuary in time of need. As Advocate He will not be discouraged. The same old failures in our lives, which humble us and break us down, but He continues in this service in behalf of His poor sinning people. Some Christians do not believe in the fundamental doctrine of the Gospel, that a child of God in possession of eternal life can never be lost. They think it depends on their walk and service. If one of His own could ever be lost again, if even the weakest, the most imperfect could be snatched out of His hands, His present work would be a failure as well as His finished work on the cross. But read the great high-priestly prayer He left for us in John xvii. There He prays the Father, who heareth Him always, that His own may be kept. His Work for the Church. Another aspect of His present work is what He does for His church. We can but briefly indicate what this means. He is in glory the Head of the church. The church is His body, the fullness of Him, that filleth all in all. Every believing sinner is a member in that body. The risen Lord Himself adds new members to that body. He puts each member into the body as it pleases Him. Each member is guided and directed by Himself. He supplies this body with gifts. "And He gave some, apostles; and some, prophets; and some, evangelists; and some, pastors and teachers; "For the perfecting of the saints, for the work of the ministry, for the edifying of the body of Christ. "Till we all come in the unity of the faith, and of the knowledge of the Son of God, unto a perfect man, unto the measure of the stature of the fullness of Christ" (Eph. iv:11-13). Thus He builds up from the Glory His own body. Some day that body will be complete. Then we all come unto the measure of the stature of the fullness of Christ. That will be when we see Him as He is. Then His present work in behalf of His own, His coheirs, will be finished. Brought home from this wilderness to the Father's house--safe home--there will be no need any longer for His power and love to sustain us. No more tears will then be shed, no more wounds of pain and sorrow to be soothed, no more help is needed for the time of need; all that is passed. Nor does He then need to exercise His office as Advocate, for we are delivered forever from the presence of sin and sanctified wholly body, soul and spirit. Sinning is then an impossibility. What a happy, glorious day that will be! III. The Practical Results of His Present Work in the Christian's Life. The fact that the Lord Jesus Christ is in Glory occupied with us should lead us into a holy life which glorifies Him. That loving eye is never withdrawn from us. If we were to remember this constantly, what a power this would be in our lives! How many things would remain undone, how many words unspoken, and how many other things done, if we were constantly conscious of that eye which is upon us individually. He represents us before God, and we are to represent Him before men. A Christian is called to manifest Christ to be His representative. And such a life, which is unto His praise and Glory, is made possible through His blessed intercessory work and His presence in heaven. A true Christian life depends much on this heart occupation with the Person and work of Christ. As His presence up yonder and His service for us is a reality to our hearts through the power of the Holy Spirit, we shall walk worthy of the Lord, and His blessed work for us will constantly be felt in our lives here on earth. What a joy it is then, as we reckon only with Him, who knows us, to serve Him, to depend on Him. And how we should shun anything which grieves Him. Encouragement for Prayer. These blessed facts of the Lord's loving interest in us and our life in this present evil age, surrounded by dangers and evils of all kinds, will be a great encouragement to us in our prayer life. We can go and tell Him all about that which troubles us. If He is interested in everything which happens to us, down to the smallest matter, then we can go to him in prayer and tell Him about it. Some Christians teach that we should not do this, but leave it all in His hands without praying for it, satisfied that His will be done. But this is contrary to Scripture, for it says that in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving we are to make our requests known (Phil. iv:6). He delights to have us tell Him, and like John's disciples we can go to Him and tell Him. His ear is always open. If in His service we become tired and weary, we can tell Him, for He was tired on account of the way. If hungry or without a resting place, He knows what that means, for He passed through this. If lonely and our best services are misunderstood, or the fiery darts of the enemy are aimed against us, we can speak to Him about it. All this can be so very real to us if we but go on led by His spirit. Deliverance from Worry. It should make an end of all worry and anxiety. We may possess a divine carelessness. Be careful for nothing. Have no anxiety. Why should we worry or be anxious? Worry is the child of unbelief. Anxiety can never stay if the eyes of the heart behold the man in Glory and faith realizes that all is in the hands of One "who doeth all things well." Worry and anxiety accuse Him. Martha did that when she was encumbered with much service and then said to Him, "Dost Thou not care?" Each time we give way to anxiety, we act as if He did not care. But He does; and He would have us rest in faith and commit all to Himself. Sharing His Work. In conclusion we must not forget that He permits us to have some share in this blessed work of His. While He prays for us, we can pray one for another, and for all the saints. He intercedes; we can intercede. He washes our feet, typical of the cleansing by the Word. We are to wash one another's feet. He carries our burdens, but the exhortation also is that we carry one another's burden. He forgives and restores. We are to forbear one another, and forgive one another, "even as Christ forgave us" (Col. iii:13). III. HIS FUTURE WORK The Lord Jesus Christ, who finished the work on earth the Father gave Him to do, who is now bodily present in the highest heaven, occupying the Father's throne and exercising His priesthood in behalf of His people, is also King. To Him belongeth a Kingdom and a kingly Glory. He has therefore a kingly work to do. While His past work was foretold by the Spirit of God and His priestly work foreshadowed in the Old Testament, His work as King and His glorious Kingdom to come are likewise the subjects of the Word of God. Predicted by the Prophets. His kingly work was announced by Gabriel to the Virgin. "The Lord God shall give unto Him the throne of His father David and He shall reign over the house of David forever; and of His Kingdom there shall be no end" (Luke i:32, 33). According to this message He must occupy the throne of His father David, He must reign and possess a Kingdom. This is but heaven's confirmation of what God's prophets for many centuries had uttered in announcing the coming of the Messiah. The entire prophetic Word has its climax in the visions of the King and the Kingdom, He will receive on this earth. These visions of glory to come, for Him who was despised and rejected of men, are the glittering stars shining throughout the dark night of the past and present age. They dazzle the eyes of faith. They inspire hope and courage. We quote a few Scriptures which relate to the Christ as King. "Yet I have set my King upon my holy hill of Zion. I will declare the decree: the Lord has said unto Me, Thou art my Son, this day have I begotten Thee. Ask of Me, and I shall give Thee the nations for Thine inheritance, and the uttermost parts of the earth for Thy possession" (Ps. ii:6-8). "It is He that will judge the world in righteousness" (Ps. xi:7). "All the ends of the world shall remember and turn unto the Lord, and all the kindreds of the nations shall worship before Thee. For the Kingdom is the Lord's and He is the governor among the nations" (Ps. xxii:27-28). "Lift up your heads, O ye gates; even lift them up, ye everlasting doors; and the King of Glory shall come in. Who is this King of Glory? The Lord of hosts, He is the King of Glory" (Ps. xxiv:9-10). "All ye peoples clap your hands, shout unto God with the voice of triumph! For Jehovah, the Most High, is terrible, a great King over all the earth" (Ps. xlvii:2). "He shall judge thy people with righteousness, and the poor with judgment." "Yea, all Kings shall fall down before Him; all nations shall serve Him." "His name shall endure forever--all nations shall call Him blessed" (Ps. lxxii:1, 11, 17). "Also, I will make Him my Firstborn, higher than the Kings of the earth" (Ps. lxxxix:27). "Behold, a King shall reign in righteousness" (Is. xxxii:1). "Behold the days come, that I will raise unto David a righteous Branch, and a King shall reign and prosper, and shall execute judgment and justice in the earth" (Jer. xxiii:5). "I saw in the night visions, and behold there came with the clouds of heaven one like a Son of Man--and there was given Him dominion and glory, and a Kingdom, that all peoples, nations and languages should serve Him; His dominion is an everlasting dominion which shall not pass away, and His Kingdom which shall not be destroyed" (Dan. vii:13-14). "Behold the man, whose name is the Branch, and he shall grow up out of his place, and he shall build the temple of the Lord. Even he shall build the temple of the Lord; and he shall bear the glory, and shall sit and rule upon his throne; and he shall be a priest upon his throne, and the counsel of peace shall be between them both" (Zech. vi:12, 13). "And Jehovah shall be King over all the earth" (Zech. xiii:9). All these prophecies and many more speak of the Lord Jesus as King and bear witness of His Kingdom. The glories of His Kingdom are likewise described by the holy men of God, the mouthpieces of the Spirit of God. Not Yet Fulfilled. Were these predictions fulfilled since the Lord Jesus Christ suffered on the Cross? Have they been fulfilled since He entered the Father's presence in Glory? Is He now exercising His kingly rule and authority? Is the promised Kingdom of righteousness, of peace, of power and glory now on this earth? These questions arise at once in reading these divine predictions. They must be answered in the negative. The Lord Jesus Christ has not even begun His work as King. The Kingdom promised unto Him, He has not yet received. There is now no such Kingdom of glory and power on earth. The New Testament Evidence. The New Testament furnishes the completest evidence that our Lord is not King over all the earth, and that His kingly rule is still in the future. The notion that the church is the Kingdom in which the Lord Jesus Christ rules as King, and that the Old Testament predictions of Kingdom glories are realized spiritually in the church, is a pure invention. Nowhere is the church called the Kingdom, nor do we find the Lord Jesus ever called "the King of the Church." He is the Head of the church, which is His body. The New Testament still looks forward to the Kingdom to come. The Lord has left the earth to receive a Kingdom and to return (Luke xix:11-28). He occupies the Father's throne, which is not His permanent place, for He is to have His own throne. "When the Son of Man shall come in His glory, and all the holy angels with Him, then shall He sit upon the throne of His glory" (Matt. xxv:31). He waits in heaven for the time when all enemies will be made the footstool of His feet (Heb. x:13). "But now we see not yet all things put under Him" (Heb. ii:8). No nation serves Him and the Kingdoms of this world are not His Kingdoms during this age. They will become His and heaven will resound with many voices saying: "The kingdoms of this world are become the kingdom of our Lord and of His Christ and He shall reign forever and ever" (Rev. xi:15). But that is future. When the seventh angel sounds His trumpet, when heaven opens and He appears as King of kings, crowned with many crowns (Rev. xix:11-16), then He will receive the nations for His inheritance. How Christ Begins His Future Work. The beginning of Christ's future work is revealed in 1 Thessalonians iv:15-18. This Scripture contains a great and unique revelation, unknown in the Old Testament. The Lord had made the promise to His disciples, "I will come again and receive you unto Myself, that where I am ye may be also" (John xiv:3). He did not tell them in what manner He would keep this most precious promise. In the first Epistle to the Thessalonians the Lord gives the details of His coming for His own, and how He will fulfill the promise given to His disciples. He promises that He will descend from heaven with a shout. When He accomplished His work on the cross, He gave a shout, for he cried with a loud voice "Tetelestei"--"It is finished!" As the risen One, He met His beloved ones and said "All Hail!" The Greek gives only one word, "Chairete"--"Oh! the Joy!" This is His resurrection shout, the shout of joy and victory. And when He ascended He went up with a shout (Ps. xlvii:5). First Thessalonians iv:16 tells us He is going to descend with a shout. He passed through the heavens in His glorious ascension and entered into the presence of God, His Father. Some day He will arise from the place He occupies on the Throne of God. He will leave the place on the right hand of the Majesty on high and pass out of the third heaven. Once more He passeth through the heavens, not upward but downward. He comes to call His Saints to meet Him. The meeting-place is not the Mount of Olives, Jerusalem or any earthly place; the meeting-place will be in the air. We repeat, this is a revelation, which is not found in the Old Testament prophetic Word, nor did the Lord announce it fully in His earthly ministry. According to the passage containing this revelation, the shout of the Lord as He descends into the air will be followed by the resurrection of the dead in Christ. All the Saints of God will be raised physically from the graves. This includes the Old Testament and New Testament believers. When this shout is heard and the righteous dead are raised, all belonging to Christ and living in that day, will be caught up together with them in clouds to meet the Lord in the air. For the sake of some, we add, that all who have accepted the Lord Jesus Christ as Saviour, who received eternal life and the Spirit of God, belong to Him and their blessed Hope and destiny is to be "caught up in clouds to meet the Lord in the air." Some teach that in order to share this rapture certain attainments are needed. Such, however, is not the case. No service, suffering, separation or any works we do, could ever fit us for such a marvelous event. Grace has accomplished it for us. In 1 Cor. xv:51 we read: "Behold I show you a mystery, we shall not all sleep, but we shall all be changed in a moment, etc." The "all" means all that are Christ's at His coming, independent of their knowledge about dispensational truths, independent of their waiting for Him, or any other thing. That they belong to Him and are redeemed by His precious blood is a sufficient title to be caught up and to meet Him in the air. Of this double company, saints who died and who will be raised from the dead, and saints who live and will be changed in a moment and caught up to meet Him, we find a hint in His words in John xi:25-26. "I am the resurrection and the life; he that believeth in Me, though he were dead, yet shall he live (Resurrection). And whosoever liveth (when He comes) and believeth in Me shall never die (The changing of living believers). Believest thou this?" May we answer Him, Yea, Lord, I believe. We may not understand all the details of this wonderful event, an event which will come suddenly, but we can believe His promise and wait daily for its glorious fulfillment. This is the blessed Hope of the Church. For this we are told to wait. Ere He begins His judgment work, before the last scenes of tribulation and wrath can be enacted upon this earth and He returns as the King of Glory to claim His blood-bought inheritance, He will come into the air to meet His redeemed host and co-heirs. This is the first event in connection with His future work. The Judgment Seat of Christ. All judgment is to be executed by the Lord Jesus Christ. "For the Father judgeth no man, but hath committed all judgment unto the Son" (John v:22). Up to the present time no judgment work has been done by Him. Nor have His people received their crowns and rewards for service and faithfulness. The meeting of the Saints in the presence of the Lord will be immediately followed by the judgment seat of Christ. "For we shall all stand before the judgment seat of Christ" (Rom. xiv:10). "For we must all appear before the judgment seat of Christ; that everyone may receive the things done in his body, according to that he hath done, whether it be good or bad" (2 Cor. v:10). No unsaved person appears before this judgment for they were not raised from the dead, nor changed in the twinkling of an eye. This judgment concerns only believers. This judgment, however, does not decide their eternal salvation. That was settled when they believed on the Lord Jesus Christ. The words of our Lord in John v:24 make this clear. "Verily, verily, I say unto you, He that heareth My word, and believeth on Him that sent Me, hath everlasting life, and shall not come into condemnation; but is passed from death unto life." "There is therefore now no condemnation to them which are in Christ" (Rom. viii:1). The works and the service of His people will be dealt with by the Lord in this first judgment act in His future work. Of this we read in 1 Cor. iv:5--"Therefore judge nothing before the time, until the Lord come, who both will bring to light the hidden things of darkness, and will make manifest the hidden counsels of the hearts; and then shall have every man praise of God." Everything will be made manifest before that judgment seat. The unconfessed sins in the believer's life will be brought to light and all hidden things will be uncovered. Then the works of the believer will be made manifest. "Every man's work shall be made manifest; for the day shall declare it, because it shall be revealed by fire; and the fire shall try every man's work of what sort it is. If any man's work abide which he hath built thereupon, he shall receive a reward. If any man's work shall be burned, he shall suffer loss; but he himself shall be saved, yet so as by fire" (1 Cor. iii:13-15). It will be the time when God's people will receive their rewards and crowns. Then the Apostles, the faithful martyrs, the self-sacrificing missionaries and servants of God will receive praise and reward for their labors. The judgment seat is the reward seat of Christ. In view of this the Apostle wrote to the faithful Thessalonians: "For what is our hope, or joy, or crown of rejoicing? Are not even ye in the presence of our Lord Jesus Christ at His coming? For ye are our glory and joy" (1 Thess. ii:19-20). And the Apostle John exhorts: "And now little children, abide in Him; that when He shall appear, we (the apostles and teachers) may have confidence, and not be ashamed before Him at His Coming" (1 John ii:28). All believers in Christ are saved and have eternal life; but not all receive a reward. Their works will be consumed by the fire of that judgment, for they were nothing but wood, hay and stubble. They will go rewardless, while the faithful saints, who toiled and served, who spent and were spent, following closely in His steps, will receive rewards. What these will be no Saint does know at this time. When all is accomplished in connection with this judgment seat of Christ, He will lead His Saints into the Father's house, that they may behold His glory (John xvii:24). He will present the church to Himself, "a glorious church, not having spot, or wrinkle, or any such thing; but that it should be holy and without blemish" (Eph. v:27). He presents His church "faultless before the presence of His glory with exceeding joy" (Jude 24). II. His Future Work in Connection with the Earth. When the Saints of God have left the earth and met the Lord in the air, when the events took place we have briefly outlined, then the Lord Jesus Christ will begin from heaven a work which will be severely felt on the earth. He begins to deal with the world in a series of judgments. From the Book of Revelation we learn that the "Lion of the tribe of Judah the Root of David, hath prevailed to open the book, and loose the seven seals thereof." (Rev. v:5). The book He receives contains the judgments decreed for this earth with its apostate masses. The Lamb is seen opening the seals of the book, and as He breaks the seals the events described under each seal happen. It is His work in judgment. In the eighth chapter of Revelation an Angel is seen before an altar with a golden censer. "And the angel took the censer, and filled it with fire of the altar, and cast it into the earth, and there were voices, and thunderings, and lightnings and an earthquake. And the seven angels which had the seven trumpets prepared themselves to sound" (Rev. viii:5, 6). This Angel is the Lord Jesus Christ. He casts down the fire of divine displeasure and judgment upon the earth. The seven trumpeting angels with their judgments for the earth are sent forth by Him. Then come seven other angels, who pour out the bowls filled with the wrath of God. We cannot examine all those judgments separately. There is no human being who can realize what they all mean and what it will be when the Lord deals with this earth in righteousness. Israel and the Nations. Israel and the nations will pass through those judgments executed from above. Christendom apostate, God defying and Christ rejecting Christendom, will like Pharaoh, be hardened by them. They do not repent, but rather believe the strong delusion and accept the man of sin with his lying wonders. The Jewish people will in part be restored to their land. The great tribulation centers in their land and will be felt there in its severest form. The apostate portion of the Jews will worship the false Christ and will therefore be visited by these righteous judgments. But there is also a remnant of God-fearing Jews, who believe the Word of God, who expect the Kingdom and the King. While these believing Jews suffer, they also serve. They are the last messengers of the King. They herald once more the Gospel of the Kingdom and will bear witness of it to all the nations of the earth, before the end comes (Matt. xxiv:14).* * We refer the reader to our larger works, which deal more fully with these coming events. Daniel, Joel, Commentary on Matthew, Harmony of the Prophetic Word, Things to Come, etc., deal more fully with these truths. For catalogue, address "Our Hope," 456 Fourth Ave., New York City. Nations Learning Righteousness. "When Thy judgments are in the earth, the inhabitants of the world will learn righteousness" (Isaiah xxvi:9). A work of salvation will go on during those seven years of judgment, tribulation and wrath. A great multitude, which no man can number, of all nations, and kindreds, and people, and tongues, come out of the great tribulation and have washed their robes and made them white in the blood of the Lamb (Rev. vii:9-17). They heard and believed the final testimony as preached by the Jewish remnant. Heathen nations will accept the Gospel of the Kingdom, while apostate Christendom is excluded, for they received not the love of the truth, but had pleasure in unrighteousness (2 Thess. ii). His Glorious Appearing. "Immediately after the tribulation of those days shall the sun be darkened, and the moon shall not give her light, and the stars shall fall from heaven, and the powers of the heavens shall be shaken. And then shall appear the sign of the Son of Man in heaven; and then shall all the tribes of the earth mourn and they shall see the Son of Man coming in the clouds of heaven with power and great glory" (Matthew xxiv:29-30). "Behold, He cometh with clouds; and every eye shall see Him, and they also which pierced Him, and all kindreds of the earth shall wail because of Him. Even so, Amen" (Rev. i:7). "And I saw heaven opened and behold a white horse, and he that sat upon him was called Faithful and True, and in righteousness He doth judge and make war. His eyes were as a flame of fire, and on His head were many crowns; and He had a name written, that no man knew, but He Himself. And He was clothed in a vesture dipped with blood; and His name is called the Word of God. And the armies which were in heaven followed Him upon white horses, clothed in fine linen, white and clean. And out of His mouth goeth a sharp sword, that with it He should smite the nations; and He shall rule them with a rod of iron and He treadeth the winepress of the fierceness and wrath of Almighty God. And He hath on His vesture and on His thigh a name written, King of Kings and Lord of Lords" (Rev. xix:11-16). The King in His Glory. Every eye shall see Him, when He appears in glorious majesty as the King of Kings. His glory will cover the heavens (Hab. iii:3). Every tongue which denied Him will be forever hushed. His second, personal, visible and glorious coming will be the crowning and unanswerable proof of His Deity. His incarnation and all the work He accomplished on earth and in glory, can then no longer be denied. His glorious appearing will silence all His enemies. His rejection ends and His glory as God's appointed King and ruler over this earth, He purchased with His blood, begins. Every knee must then bow before Him and every tongue confess that He is Lord. And when He appears in all His glory, He does not come alone. His Saints come with Him. When He appears, then shall we also appear with Him in glory (Col. iii:4). In that day of triumph and glory, He will be glorified in His Saints and admired in all them that believed (2 Thess. i:10). Wonderful spectacle it will be, when He brings His many sons with Him unto glory! All will be conformed into the same image. His Judgment-Work. His feet will stand once more upon the Mount of Olives (Zech. xiv:4). Before Him is Jerusalem and all nations are gathered against it to battle (Zech. xiv:2). The Beast will be their leader, while the Man of Sin, the Anti-christ, will do his dreadful work in the city itself. The remnant of Israel in great distress will then pray and look for deliverance. The coming of the King will bring that deliverance. They will shout then for joy and say in that day, "Lo, this is our God, we have waited for Him, and He will save us; this is the Lord; we have waited for Him; we will be glad and rejoice in His salvation" (Isaiah xxv:9). They will welcome the once rejected One. "Blessed is He that cometh in the name of the Lord" (Matt. xxiii:39). And He will fight against those nations. The great battle of Armageddon will then take place. "The beasts and the Kings of the earth, and their armies, gathered together to make war against Him that sat on the horse, and against his army" (Rev. xix:19). But their opposition will suddenly be broken to pieces. "And the beast was taken, and with him the false prophet (the Anti-christ) that wrought miracles before him, with which he deceived them that received the mark of the beast, and them that worshipped the image. These both were cast alive into a lake of fire burning with brimstone" (Rev. xix:20). On His Throne. When the Son of Man shall come in His glory, and all the holy angels with Him, then shall He sit upon the throne of His glory" (Matt. xxv:31). The judgment which will then be executed by Him is not a universal judgment (the dead are not mentioned), but it will be a judgment of the living nations in the day when He appears the second time. Some nations are put on His right side and He calls them "the blessed of my Father;" they inherit the Kingdom which will then be established on the earth. That these righteous nations are not church saints is obvious, for the church, as we have seen, was caught up in the beginning of His future work to meet Him in the air and is associated with Him when He comes in power and glory. Then there are other nations which are put on His left hand and they shall go away from that judgment throne into everlasting punishment (Matt. xxv:46). But what is the standard of this judgment? What they did to the Lord's brethren or what they did not unto them. The Lord's brethren, according to the flesh are the Jews. During the tribulation period believing Jews will preach the Gospel of the Kingdom to all nations (Matt. xxiv:14). The nations who believed this last offer of mercy treated the messengers in kindness; those who did not believe the message did not treat them in that way. And when this great judgment is passed, His Kingdom of righteousness and peace will be established on this earth. Righteousness will begin to reign as grace reigns now through righteousness. III. The Glories of His Kingdom. "And in the days of those Kings shall the God of heaven set up a Kingdom, which shall never be destroyed, and the Kingdom shall not be left to other people, but it shall break in pieces and consume all these Kingdoms, and it shall stand forever" (Dan. ii:44). "I saw in the night visions, and, behold, one like the Son of Man came with the clouds of heaven, and came to the Ancients of days, and they brought Him near before Him. And there was given Him dominion, and glory, and a kingdom, that all people, nations and languages should serve Him; His dominion is an everlasting dominion, which shall not pass away, and His Kingdom that which shall not be destroyed" (Dan. vii:13-14). A closer study of these two fundamental passages from Daniel's great prophecies will establish the fact that this promised Kingdom comes with the second coming of Christ. It will be preceded by a judgment blow at the earth Kingdoms; Nebuchadnezzar beheld this in his prophetic dream. This Kingdom is an earthly Kingdom and all the nations will be gathered into that Kingdom. Jerusalem and a converted Israel will be the center of it. The Lord Jesus Christ and His Saints will reign with Him over the earth and over this Kingdom. And what will be His work then? But a few of the many things can be mentioned. "He shall speak peace to the nations" (Zech. ix:10). "With righteousness shall He judge the poor, and reprove with equity the meek of the earth." (Isaiah xi:4). "He shall bring forth judgment to the Gentiles" (Is. xlii:1). "And He shall judge among the nations, and shall rebuke many people, and they shall beat their swords into plow-shares, and their spears into pruninghooks; nation shall not lift up sword against nation, neither shall they learn war any more" (Isaiah ii:4). He shall also "set up an ensign for the nations, and shall assemble the outcasts of Israel, and gather together the dispersed of Judah from the four corners of the earth" (Isaiah xi:12). "And many nations shall be joined to the Lord in that day, and shall be my people" (Zech. ii:11). "And the Lord shall be King over all the earth" (Zech. xiv:9). "Behold a King shall reign in righteousness" (Isaiah xxxii:1). "A King shall reign and prosper, and shall execute judgment and justice in the earth" (Jere. xxiii:5). Many more passages predicting and describing the Kingdom and its glories might be added. All these blessed words mean exactly what they say. Righteousness and peace will characterize that world-wide Kingdom of the Lord Jesus Christ. His glory will cover the earth as the waters cover the deep. Nations will worship Him. "Yea, all Kings shall fall down before Him; all nations shall serve Him." "He shall have dominion also from sea to sea, and from the river unto the ends of the earth" (Ps. lxxii:8, 11). Every wrong will be righted on earth and present-day evils and oppression, crime and vice, poverty and sickness will be abolished. Only He has the power to do this. Oh! the glories of the Kingdom! May we pray, "Even so, come, Lord Jesus." Thy Kingdom come. Creation Delivered. "For the earnest expectation of the creature waiteth for the manifestation of the Sons of God. For the creature was made subject to vanity, not willingly, but by reason of him who hath subjected the same in hope, because the creature itself also shall be delivered from the bondage of corruption into the glorious liberty of the children of God. For we know that the whole creation groaneth and travaileth in pain together until now" (Rom. viii:19-22). Sin has brought a curse upon creation. The thorns and thistles are the result of the fall of man as well as the blight and misery which rests upon a creation, which was pronounced good by the Creator. But this condition into which creation has been plunged will not continue forever. A better day is coming. Groaning creation is to be delivered. The curse will be removed. This cannot be the work of man. Scientists attempt to set things in order in this ruined creation; but they fail. The things which destroy, the heat and the drought, the storms and earthquakes, cannot be arrested by the arm of man. The Son of God wore the crown of thorns. The curse was put upon Him. And He who created all things and paid for redemption by His precious blood will, with omnipotent power, deliver groaning creation. It will take place when the sons of God are manifested. The sons of God (the redeemed) will be manifested with Him, as we have seen, in the day of His visible appearing. Then the great vision of Isaiah will find its fulfillment. "The wolf also shall dwell with the lamb, and the leopard shall lie down with the kid; and the calf and the young lion and the fatling together; and a little child shall lead them. And the cow and the bear shall feed; their young ones shall lie down together; and the lion shall eat straw like the ox. And the suckling child shall play on the hole of the asp, and the weaned child shall put his hand on the cockatrice den" (Isaiah xi:6-8). All Under His Feet. The dispensation of the fulness of times has come (Eph. i:10). All things are put under Him. All His enemies are made His footstool. He is Lord of all. The glorious reign of Christ, in kingly glory, in fulfillment of the Prophet's visions, will be followed by another judgment. The Great White Throne. The second resurrection, that of the wicked dead, takes place at the end of the Kingdom reign of Christ. This great judgment and the final destiny of the wicked is revealed in Rev. xx:11-15. The Lord Jesus Christ will be the judge in that awful scene, for it is written that all judgment is committed unto the Son" (John v:22). Then Cometh the End. "Then cometh the end, when He shall have delivered up the Kingdom to God, even the Father; when He shall have put down all rule and all authority and power. For He must reign, till He hath put all enemies under His feet. The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death. . . . And when all things shall be subdued unto Him, then shall the Son also Himself be subject unto Him, who put all things under Him, that God may be all in all" (1 Cor. xv:24-28). Then He will create a new heaven and a new earth, the eternal dwelling place of redeemed and glorified mankind. "And I saw a new heaven and a new earth" (Rev. xxi:1). "And He that sat upon the throne said, Behold, I make all things new. And He said unto me, Write: for these words are true and faithful" (Rev. xxi:5). "And there shall be no more curse; but the throne of God and of the Lamb shall be in it; and His servants shall serve Him. And they shall see His face; and His Name shall be in their foreheads. And there shall be no night there; and they need no candle, neither light of the sun; for the Lord God giveth them light; and they shall reign forever and ever" (Rev. xxii:3-5). This will be the ultimate result of the blessed Work of Christ. His past work is finished. Soon His present Work may end and then His future, kingly work begins, when He comes the second time. "Amen. Even so, come, Lord Jesus." 
26691	----	Transcriber's note Minor punctuation errors have been corrected without notice. A few obvious typographical errors have been corrected, and they are listed at the end. SANCTIFICATION Wherefore Jesus also, that he might sanctify the people with his own blood, suffered without the gate. Heb. 13:12. By J. W. BYERS Printed in 1902 by GOSPEL TRUMPET COMPANY CONTENTS What Is Sanctification? 5 The Apostolic Experience 11 Consecration and Dedication 19 The Holy Spirit of Promise 25 Our Inheritance 32 Sanctified by Faith 39 The Subtraction Process 45 Christian Perfection 51 Holiness 58 The Vine and The Branches 64 Some Helpful Thoughts on Consecration 69 Questions and Answers 76 Personal Experience 90 What is Sanctification? Scripturally, the word =sanctification= has three meanings: First, separation; second, dedication; third, spirit-filling. Webster's definition of it is as follows: "1. Sanctification is the act of God's grace by which the affections of man are purified, or alienated from sin and the world, and exalted to a supreme love of God; also, the state of being thus purified or sanctified. 2. The act of consecrating, or setting apart for a sacred purpose." "=Sanctifier.= One who sanctifies or makes holy; specifically, the Holy Ghost." "=Sanctify.= 1. To set apart to a holy or religious use. 2. To make holy or free from sin; to cleanse from moral corruption or pollution; to make holy by detaching the affections from the world and its defilements and exalting them to a supreme love of God." Scripturally and practically, the terms sanctification, holiness, purity, and perfection are synonymous. =Holiness=, Separation: setting apart; sacredness. =Purity.= Cleanness; chastity. =Perfection.= Completeness; wholeness. All this is comprehended in one word, =sanctification=. It is evident that this term signifies much more in the New Testament sense than it does in the Old Testament. In the Old Testament it meant but a dedication, a setting apart to a holy use, as in the example of the sanctification of the tabernacle and its contents--the altar and laver, and all the vessels belonging thereto--and Aaron and his sons and their garments. Lev. 8:10-30. In this dispensation of grace it means infinitely more; for in that dispensation it was but an outward and ceremonial work, but now it is an inwrought work, permeating and purifying the affections through and through by the cleansing blood and heavenly fire, and filling the dedicated temple, our body, with the Holy Ghost, as in the example of the early church at Pentecost. The justified believer must meet the conditions of complete separation and exclusive dedication of himself to God, in a sense that no guilty sinner can do. This is the believer's part. He must purify himself. "Every man that hath this hope in him purifieth himself, even as he is pure."--1 John 3:3. "Having therefore these promises, dearly beloved, let us cleanse ourselves from all filthiness of the flesh and spirit, perfecting holiness in the fear of God."--2 Cor. 7:1. This brings the believer into the condition where God can fulfill his part. He can now take exclusive possession of the dedicated temple, and sanctify it. "And the very God of peace sanctify you wholly."--1 Thess. 5:23. "And they were all filled with the Holy Ghost."--Acts 2:4. This brings the believer into a more perfect spiritual relationship with God than when simply justified. Sanctification A Bible Doctrine "And now, brethren, I commend you to God, and to the word of his grace, which is able to build you up, and to give you an inheritance among all them which are sanctified." Acts 20:32. "To open their eyes, and to turn them from darkness to light, and from the power of Satan unto God, that they may receive forgiveness of sins, and inheritance among them which are sanctified by faith that is in me."--Acts 26:18. "Sanctify them through thy truth: thy word is truth.... And for their sakes I sanctify myself, that they also might be sanctified through the truth. Neither pray I for these alone, but for them also which shall believe on me through their word."--John 17:17, 19, 20. "If a man therefore purge himself from these, he shall be a vessel unto honour, sanctified, and meet for the master's use, and prepared unto every good work."--2 Tim. 2:21. "That every one of you should know how to possess his vessel in sanctification and honour."--1 Thess. 4:4. God Our Sanctifier "And the very God of peace sanctify you wholly; and I pray God your whole spirit and soul and body be preserved blameless unto the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ. Faithful is he that calleth you, who also will do it."--1 Thess. 5:23, 24. "Jude, the servant of Jesus Christ, and brother of James, to them that are sanctified by God the Father, and preserved in Jesus Christ, and called."--Jude 1. Sanctified In Christ "Unto the church of God which is at Corinth, to them that are sanctified in Christ Jesus." "But of him are ye in Christ Jesus, who of God is made unto us wisdom, and righteousness, and sanctification, and redemption."--1 Cor. 1:2, 30. Sanctified Through the Truth "Sanctify them through thy truth; thy word is truth."--John 17:17. "That he might sanctify and cleanse it with the washing of water by the word."--Eph. 5:26. By The Blood of Jesus "Wherefore Jesus also, that he might sanctify the people with his own blood, suffered without the gate." "For if the blood of bulls and of goats, and the ashes of an heifer sprinkling the unclean, sanctifieth to the purifying of the flesh: how much more shall the blood of Christ, who through the eternal Spirit offered himself without spot to God, purge your conscience from dead works to serve the living God?" "By the which will we are sanctified through the offering of the body of Jesus Christ once for all." "For by one offering he hath perfected for ever them that are sanctified." "Of how much sorer punishment, suppose ye, shall he be thought worthy, who hath trodden under foot the Son of God, and hath counted the blood of the covenant, wherewith he was sanctified, an unholy thing, and hath done despite unto the Spirit of grace?"--Heb. 13:12; 9:13, 14; 10:10, 14, 29. And The Holy Spirit "That I should be the minister of Jesus Christ to the Gentiles, ministering the gospel of God, that the offering up of the Gentiles might be acceptable, being sanctified by the Holy Ghost."--Rom. 15:16. "But we are bound to give thanks alway to God for you, brethren beloved of the Lord, because God hath from the beginning chosen you to salvation through sanctification of the Spirit and belief of the truth."--2 Thess. 2:13. These and many other texts of scripture teach us that sanctification is a Bible doctrine. There is but one reason why some people can not see it in the Bible--their eyes are blinded. All who are willing to yield themselves to God and His word, will soon be taught this blessed truth. Jesus prayed that His disciples might become sanctified. They had not yet come into this experience. Jesus knew that they needed it. It was His desire for their highest good. They were not able to go forth and cope with the powers of sin. They had been under the teaching of the Master and in His presence, and therefore were protected by Him from the enemy; but now he was soon to be taken from them, and He knew that they must be "endued with power from on high." Therefore He implored the Father for the sanctification of the eleven; and not "for these alone," but "for them also which shall believe on me through their word." This reaches down through the entire gospel dispensation. It is His blessed will that we all shall be sanctified. As justified believers, we each are as needy of this grace as were the eleven disciples. It is indispensable for our spiritual welfare. Some are disposed to look upon this matter as optional with them; but such is a mistake. The time comes in the experience of every true believer when the Holy Spirit brings before him the conditions of a definite and absolute consecration. A refusal to meet these conditions, done ignorantly, will bring a cloud over our experience of justification and, eventually, if persisted in wilfully, will bring us into God's utter disapproval. "Therefore to him that knoweth to do good, and doeth it not, to him it is sin."--Jas. 4:17. Sanctification is the normal state of the Christian. The Father, Son and Holy Spirit are jointly interested in us, that we attain unto this grace. Our unity with the Godhead is incomplete without it, so also is our unity with each other; "For both he that sanctifieth and they who are sanctified are all of one: for which cause he is not ashamed to call them brethren."--Heb. 2:11. A heart washed and made pure by the blood of Christ and filled with the Holy Spirit will always be in perfect fellowship with divinity, and also with all other hearts of like experience. The unsanctified heart of the believer cannot be fully satisfied, because of the consciousness of the presence of the carnal nature, more scripturally called "our old man." Just what it is may not perhaps be perfectly understood by the new convert, but that something abnormal exists will soon be discovered, and there will be a longing in the heart for an inward cleansing--a normal desire for the normal experience. On the other hand, when this blessed experience is attained, there comes with it the consciousness of inward purity which fully satisfies the heart, and it can sing with the spirit and with the understanding, "Hallelujah for the cleansing; it has reached my inmost soul." For this purpose Christ gave himself for the church--"That he might sanctify and cleanse it." God gave him to the world that whosoever believes in him shall not perish, but have everlasting life, for our justification; but Christ gave himself for the church, for our sanctification. The gospel commission of the apostle Paul specifies clearly the doctrine of sanctification, the "inheritance among them which are sanctified." He could not have been faithful to this commission without leading souls from "forgiveness of sins" into this "inheritance." His ministry and epistles to the different churches prove his faithfulness. Upon his first acquaintance with the brethren at Ephesus he asked them the question, "Have ye received the Holy Ghost since ye believed?" And after three years of faithful ministry in that city, upon the solemn event of his departure from them, among his last words he reminds the church of the "inheritance among all them which are sanctified." Then about four years later, while a prisoner at Rome, he writes back to them his epistle to the Ephesians, which in every chapter sparkles with beautiful gems of thought upon the subject of sanctification. In his letter to the church of Rome we are forcibly reminded that this doctrine was prominent in his teaching, employing such terms as, "this grace wherein we stand" (Rom. 5:2), "our old man is crucified," "that the body of sin might be destroyed," "dead indeed unto sin," "free from sin" (Chap. 6), "married to ... him who is raised from the dead" (Chap. 7), "present your bodies a living sacrifice" (Chap. 12) "being sanctified by the Holy Ghost" (Chap. 15). These terms and others signify the precious experiences of sanctification. In the first and second epistles to the Corinthians we also notice the mention of this experience, and that there were some saints at Corinth that were sanctified (1:2, 30), although some were not, and were told that they were yet carnal. There were evidently only the two classes--sanctified and justified, in the church there, the same as is usually the case everywhere today. In speaking of the congregation, he says "But ye are washed, but ye are sanctified, but ye are justified in the name of the Lord Jesus, and by the Spirit of God."--1 Cor. 6:11. In the second epistle, Chap. 7:1, he exhorts them: "Let us cleanse ourselves from all filthiness of the flesh and spirit, perfecting holiness in the fear of God," and among the closing words of this letter, he says, "Be perfect." Thus we can see in all the epistles of this apostle, the theme of sanctification. His personal testimony to the Galatians reads: "I am crucified with Christ." His statement to the brethren at Philippi was: "As many as be perfect"; to those at Colosse: "Ye are dead and your life is hid with Christ in God," "Ye have put off the old man with his deeds, and have put on the new man"; his teaching in the epistles to the Thessalonians, showing them that sanctification is the will of God to them, and his desire that the "God of peace sanctify you wholly." His instructions to Timothy show how we may become a vessel "sanctified and meet for the Master's use," and he refers to the fact that there were some who "call on the Lord out of a pure heart." His letter to Titus, in which he mentions how Jesus gave himself for us, that he might "purify unto himself a peculiar people." These all add testimony to this doctrine and the apostle's faithfulness in his ministry. Some scholars think Apollos is the author of the epistle to the Hebrews; but whether Paul or Apollos, it abounds with truth upon sanctification. All the other writers of the New Testament teach the same truth. James says, "Purify your hearts, ye double-minded." Peter gives emphasis to the doctrine of holiness: "Be ye holy," and that "we, being dead to sins, should live unto righteousness"; and desires that the God of all grace "make you perfect, stablish, strengthen, settle you;" and that at the coming of Christ "ye may be found of him in peace, without spot and blameless." Jude addresses his epistle "to them that are sanctified," and "preserved." Then when we search the writings of John we are almost overwhelmed with glory, as we read his beautiful teachings upon this theme, which he so clearly sets forth. God grant that we all may "walk in the light as he is in the light," walking "even as he walked," that his love in us may be "perfected," that we may prayerfully hold fast and abide in this "unction from the Holy One," that the "anointing" may abide in us. Such an experience can be realized only by every one that "purifieth himself even as he is pure." CHAPTER II The Apostolic Experience "All scripture is given by inspiration of God, and is profitable for doctrine, for reproof, for correction, for instruction in righteousness: that the man of God may be perfect, thoroughly furnished unto all good works."--2 Tim. 3:16, 17. In our study of this theme we find that the word of God is our only standard to prove that sanctification is a Bible doctrine. The experience and testimony of the Bible writers and the other apostles of the early church also prove to us and teach the nature of this doctrine and its relative position to the experience of justification. It will be important and profitable for us to review these experiences, not only to establish the doctrine in our faith, but also to examine our own hearts and see that our experiences are truly apostolic. The author of this treatise was sanctified at a time when there was a battle raging against the doctrine as a second work of grace. He had himself taken a stand against it for some years, because it did not seem that the scriptures and apostolic testimonies were sufficiently clear to establish the second-work doctrine. In this he had been blinded by the theories on the opposing side, notwithstanding the brilliant testimonies to the contrary of those whose lives were unimpeachable. Of course it was impossible to consecrate for and receive the experience under such circumstances, and consequently years of unsatisfactory experience passed by, until at last the indisputable symptoms of inborn depravity, and the deplorable weakness of the heart and will to cope with the mighty power of the enemy, brought the struggling soul into depths of despair at the feet of Jesus, crying, "Forgive me, O Lord, for all my sad failures, and 'create in me a clean heart, O God.'" It was not a question at this crisis about it being a second work of grace. The crying need of the soul was a clean heart. It was all too evident that the heart was not clean, and it was also evident that it was the will of God, even my sanctification; and dear loved ones were daily proving by life and testimony that the experience was attainable. It will be sufficient to say at present that the definite consecration and definite faith in the definite promises of God brought the definite experience. The inward struggle was over, and the soul had entered into its promised land--the heavenly rest; "for we which have believed do enter into rest."--Heb. 4:3. Experimentally, the question of the second work was most thoroughly and satisfactorily answered, and it seemed as clear as the noonday sun in a cloudless sky. The internal evidence was overwhelming, and now it only remained necessary to become established scripturally, which, by the study of the apostolic experiences and testimonies, was by the anointing received in due time. Praise God! Were it not for the perverted teaching, every truly justified child of God would soon be led by the Holy Spirit into this grace, because it is the inheritance of the soul, and its normal state. The apostles before Pentecost needed it, and so does every other child of God. Let us briefly consider the experience of the apostolic brethren, both before and upon their Pentecost. =They were born of God before Pentecost.= This is very definitely established by the following scriptures. "Whosoever believeth that Jesus is the Christ is born of God"--1 John 5:1. "He saith unto them, But whom say ye that I am? And Simon Peter answered and said, Thou art the Christ, the Son of the living God."--Matt. 16:15, 16. "But as many as received him, to them gave he power to become the sons of God, even to them that believe on his name: which were born, not of blood, nor of the will of the flesh, nor of the will of man, but of God."--John 1:12, 13. "Nathanael answered and saith unto him, Rabbi, thou art the Son of God."--John 1:49. "Then saith he to Thomas, Reach hither thy finger, and behold my hands; and reach hither thy hand, and thrust it into my side; and be not faithless, but believing. And Thomas answered and said unto him, My Lord and my God. Jesus saith unto him, Thomas, because thou hast seen me, thou hast believed: blessed are they that have not seen, and yet have believed."--John 20:27-29. This is sufficient to prove their experience, both before and after the death and resurrection of Christ. Some would contend that the disciples could not have been regenerated in a true New Testament sense before Pentecost, because the plan of salvation was not finished before Christ's death on the cross. If this were true, there is sufficient in the foregoing text (John 20:27-29) to prove that the eleven were enjoying the regenerating grace; for they all had at least as much faith as Thomas, that Jesus is the Christ; and when Thomas was invited to prove to his own satisfaction that Jesus had indeed risen from the dead, he at once acknowledged him "My Lord and my God." This was after the atonement for sin was made, and the disciples believed in him and beyond doubt were justified and born of God in the perfect New Testament sense. This not only is true of the eleven, but equally so of all who believed that he arose from the dead; for he said, "Blessed are they that have not seen and yet have believed." The language of the apostle to the Roman brethren (Chap. 10:9, 10) adds to this testimony--"That if thou shalt confess with thy mouth the Lord Jesus, and shalt believe in thine heart that God hath raised him from the dead, thou shalt be saved. For with the heart man believeth unto righteousness; and with the mouth confession is made unto salvation." The apostle John says (1 John 2:29), "If ye know that he is righteous, ye know that every one that doeth righteousness is born of him." He also says, "Every one that loveth is born of God, and knoweth God."--1 John 4:7. =Their names were written in heaven.= "Notwithstanding in this rejoice not, that the spirits are subject unto you; but rather rejoice, because your names are written in heaven."--Luke 10:20. The critic will say that this was said of the seventy and not of the twelve. Well, it was said of the seventy, but how could it be less true of the twelve whom he had previously chosen and sent out to preach the kingdom of God, to cast out devils, and to heal the sick? It is likely that a number of those seventy, if not all, were among the one hundred twenty at Pentecost. To say the least concerning the spiritual standing of the twelve, they were equal with the seventy. =They were not of the world.= "If ye were of the world, the world would love his own: but because ye are not of the world, but I have chosen you out of the world, therefore the world hateth you."--John 15:19. "I have given them thy word; and the world hath hated them, because they are not of the world, even as I am not of the world.... They are not of the world, even as I am not of the world." John 17:14,16. =They kept the word of God.= "I have manifested thy name unto the men which thou gavest me out of the world: thine they were, and thou gavest them me; and they have kept thy word. For I have given unto them the words which thou gavest me; and they have received them, and have known surely that I came out from thee, and they have believed that thou didst send me."--John 17:6, 8. =They belonged to God.= "I pray for them: I pray not for the world, but for them which thou hast given me; for they are thine. All mine are thine, and thine are mine; and I am glorified in them."--John 17:9, 10. This was the spiritual condition of the eleven before Pentecost testified to by Jesus himself. It is certainly a blessed condition--born of God, their names written in heaven, not of the world. They belonged to God, and they kept His word. Would that every professing follower of Jesus were in this blessed state. It would produce a revolution in Christendom. Does not this signify all that can possibly be comprehended in justification? Then after the blood of Jesus had been shed and the ransom for sin paid, he opened their understanding (Luke 24:45) that they might understand the scriptures, how he should suffer and rise again from the dead. We see that they believed in him the Redeemer, and now understood the object of his suffering and death; but there was still a glorious work of grace awaiting them, to be inwrought by the Holy Ghost, the sanctifier. =They were not yet sanctified=, and for this reason Jesus prayed for them as he did. He well knew that they could not be kept from the evil of the world in a manner that would prove satisfactory to themselves and the Father, unless there should be accomplished in them more than had yet been done. Therefore he prayed, "Sanctify them through thy truth, thy word is truth."--John 17:17. =They had not yet received the Holy Ghost.= "And, behold, I send the promise of my Father upon you: but tarry ye in the city of Jerusalem, until ye be endued with power from on high."--Luke 24:49. "For John truly baptized with water: but ye shall be baptized with the Holy Ghost not many days hence." =This promise was fulfilled.= "And when the day of Pentecost was fully come, they were all with one accord in one place. And suddenly there came a sound from heaven as of a rushing mighty wind, and it filled all the house where they were sitting. And there appeared unto them cloven tongues like as of fire, and it sat upon each of them. And they were all filled with the Holy Ghost."--Acts 2:1-4. We will presently consider the testimony of the apostle Peter with reference to this experience at Pentecost, but will first notice the experience of Cornelius And His Household This brother was a devout man; he feared God with all his house; he prayed to God always and gave much alms, which were accepted of God and were had in remembrance in his sight; he had a good report. God heard his prayers, accepted him, and answered his prayers; and he and his household were all anxious to hear the preaching of Peter, testifying, "Now therefore are we all here present before God, to hear all things that are commanded thee of God."--Acts 10:33. This was not a company of sinners. Peter did not preach repentance to them. Although they were Gentiles and did not have the privileges that many others had and were not acquainted with the apostles, they were acquainted with God. Peter expressed his surprise at this, saying, "Of a truth, I perceive that God is no respecter of persons: but in every nation he that feareth him, and worketh righteousness, is accepted with him." Acts 10:34, 35. Here Peter testifies both to the righteousness and to the acceptance with God of this household. From Peter's statement in Acts 11:14, in his testimony to the church concerning this event, a doubt might arise as to this company being saved in the full New Testament justification. He refers to the words of the angel in his message to Cornelius, instructing him to send for Peter, "Who shall teach thee words whereby thou and all thy house shall be saved." But this statement in itself cannot be interpreted to mean that this company were not already justified. We have a parallel statement of Peter in his testimony to the church upon another occasion, when he again refers to the grace of God to the Gentile world, saying (Acts 15:10, 11), "Now therefore why tempt ye God, to put a yoke upon the neck of the disciples, which neither our fathers nor we were able to bear? But we believe that through the grace of the Lord Jesus Christ we shall be saved, even as they." The term "saved" in both these instances signifies more than justification; for truly Peter and the disciples to whom he was speaking in this last instance were justified. The household of Cornelius were ready with open hearts to receive all that God had for them, and while Peter spoke the word of God to them "the Holy Ghost fell on all them which heard the word." This experience was identical in character with that of the Jewish saints at Pentecost. Peter's Testimony In rehearsing this wonderful event to the brethren and apostles at Jerusalem he testified to the unquestionable leading of the Spirit to this company of believers. He said (Acts 11:15, 17), "And as I began to speak, the Holy Ghost fell on them, as on us at the beginning. Forasmuch then as God gave them the like gift as he did unto us, who believed on the Lord Jesus Christ; what was I, that I could withstand God?" Upon another occasion at Jerusalem Peter again spoke of the same event, saying, "And God, which knoweth the hearts, bare them witness, giving them the Holy Ghost, even as he did unto us; and put no difference between us and them, purifying their hearts by faith."--Acts 15:8, 9. But Peter testified to the fact that the Gentiles are placed upon a level with the Jews, not only in the reception of the Holy Spirit, but in the experience of cleansing. He testified to these two phases of sanctification, equally wrought in the hearts of the Jews and Gentiles, making "no difference between us and them"; and in this same testimony he plainly states that "purifying their hearts" was an experience co-incident with the reception of the Holy Ghost--"giving them the Holy Ghost," "purifying their hearts," "even as he did unto us." Opposers of this truth have argued that Peter's statement, "purifying their hearts," in the Greek text reads, "having purified their hearts," the word "having" signifying that their hearts were purified previous to the event of their reception of the Holy Ghost; but this objection has no foundation in scripture, history, or experience. If there could be a shadow of meaning in this form of this word in the Greek text, to signify that the "purifying their hearts" occurred prior to the outpouring of the Holy Ghost, it simply has reference to the order of these two phases of sanctification, which were effected within them upon this occasion. It is evident that in the divine order of sanctification purifying the heart by faith is preparatory to the outpouring of the Holy Spirit. He must have a pure heart in which to make his abode. However, there is no lapse of time perceptible between the =negative= and =positive= phase of sanctification. How easily this is understood by those who have truly received the Pentecostal experience. How the "anointing" teaches us and witnesses in our hearts to the testimony of Peter; but to those who have not yet had their Pentecost, and especially such as are blinded by theory and the doctrines of men, there is likely to be discussion and argument of words. The apostles and brethren at Jerusalem had no argument to make when Peter rehearsed his experience. They simply "glorified God." Paul's Testimony "Nevertheless, brethren, I have written the more boldly unto you in some sort, as putting you in mind, because of the grace that is given to me of God, that I should be the minister of Jesus Christ to the Gentiles, ministering the gospel of God, that the offering up of the Gentiles might be acceptable, being sanctified by the Holy Ghost."--Romans 15:15, 16. This testimony agrees with Peter in his account of the outpouring of the Holy Ghost upon the Gentile believers. It is not plainly stated that Paul has reference to this event in his testimony quoted, yet we can see clearly that he does have reference to the experience of sanctification, and that it is identical with that of all believers, being a specific work of the Holy Ghost. Experiences of the Brethren at Samaria "Then Philip went down to the city of Samaria, and preached Christ unto them. But when they believed Philip preaching the things concerning the kingdom of God, and the name of Jesus Christ, they were baptized, both men and women."--Acts 8:5, 12. About three years prior to this time there was a greater One than Philip at Samaria preaching the words of life, and many more than the woman at the well believed, and they said to the woman, "Now we believe, not because of thy saying: for we have heard him ourselves, and know that this is indeed the Christ, the Saviour of the world."--John 4:42. This was an effectual introduction of the gospel, and when Philip went to that city he found much good soil for the precious word in the name of Jesus Christ. There is no room for doubt as to the acceptable condition of these converts. They believed in the name of Jesus and were baptized. Some had doubtless remained firm believers since Jesus' visit to that city; others believed through the preaching of Philip. Certainly they were justified by faith in the name of Jesus, but like the disciples before Pentecost they were not yet sanctified, and when the apostles at Jerusalem heard of this work of grace at Samaria they sent down Peter and John, "who when they were come down, prayed for them, that they might receive the Holy Ghost: (For as yet he was fallen upon none of them: only they were baptized in the name of the Lord Jesus) then laid they their hands on them, and they received the Holy Ghost."--Acts 8:15-17. How clearly the inspired record here proves the second work of grace, and how beautifully this event harmonizes with the others relative to the outpouring of the Holy Spirit. And then, how glorious to have an experience like it in our own hearts. Praise God for this glorious, vivid, and living reality which by its divine power pales every theory into utter obscurity. CHAPTER III. Consecration and Dedication "I beseech you therefore, brethren, by the mercies of God, that ye present your bodies a living sacrifice, holy, acceptable unto God, which is your reasonable service. And be not conformed to this world: but be ye transformed by the renewing of your mind, that ye may prove what is that good, and acceptable, and perfect, will of God."--Romans 12:1, 2. In this chapter we will notice the scriptures upon the theme of consecration and dedication--the important step necessary on the part of the justified believer, before he can enter into this blessed grace of entire sanctification. We find that in the old dispensation everything that was to be employed in the service of God necessarily had to be consecrated. In the tabernacle and temple service every vessel and article of furniture, even the smallest spoon, the tongs, and snuffers, together with the building itself, and all the priests and their garments, were consecrated wholly unto God, to be used for no other purpose than divine service. This setting apart for holy service was the Old Testament sanctification. The setting apart of these things, together with the ceremonial application of what God had ordained to be used in this dedication, was acceptable in his sight. This consecration in the old dispensation is but a shadow of the new. It was God's own way of sanctification--making things holy unto himself. The mere declaration on the part of Moses, in the consecration of these things, that they were now holy, would not have been sufficient without the careful observance of the application of the blood of animals and the holy anointing oil, which were typical of the blood of Jesus and the Holy Spirit. Some of the articles of the tabernacles and temple were sanctified simply by a setting apart and sprinkling with oil (Lev. 8:10), while others required the application of oil and blood. Lev. 8:11, 15. In the consecration of Aaron and his sons the anointing oil and the blood were applied. Without this they would not have been sanctified. Lev. 8:30. The apostle speaks of this in his letter to the Hebrews--"For if the blood of bulls and of goats, and the ashes of a heifer sprinkling the unclean, sanctifieth to the purifying of the flesh: how much more shall the blood of Christ, who through the eternal Spirit offered himself without spot to God, purge your conscience from dead works to serve the living God?"--Heb. 9:13. The importance of an exclusive dedication to the service of God should impress our minds with deep solemnity. Anything held back from such a dedication would most certainly have been rejected in the old dispensation, and truly it is the same in the new. Many professing to follow Jesus into a thorough consecration, are at heart disposed to keep back some treasured idol. Many have doubtless made a profession of sanctification, and yet have never made a definite consecration. Such are deceived, and never know the joys of this glorious experience. The cleansing blood and the Holy Spirit will never be applied to the heart that is not absolutely consecrated. It is both scriptural and logical that we present our bodies a living sacrifice, not only for service but for actual sacrifice in a definite and absolute consecration. We have no bad things to present to the Lord in this consecration; for we are not sinners. We would not be proper candidates for sanctification if we were clinging to anything sinful. Everything sinful must be forsaken and denounced by the guilty sinner when he comes to God for pardon. Otherwise he would never be forgiven of his sins. The world, the flesh, and the devil are forsaken in true repentance. "Denying ungodliness and worldly lusts, we should live soberly, righteously, and godly, in this present world." Therefore all sinful things are laid aside forever in repentance. This is the Bible signification of repentance: To give up all sinful things. But the Bible signification of consecration is to present to Jesus all the sacred treasures of our hearts--give up all our good things. * * * * * No sinner can make a definite Bible consecration; for he has no good things to bring to God. He is guilty and condemned in the sight of God. It is the justified believer who has learned by experience that his inward spiritual condition is not yet satisfactory. It may have been for a time; but he sooner or later becomes aware that there is a deeper work of grace needed. He doubts not that he is justified, but knows that something more must be wrought within. Through the ministry of the word of God and the blessed guidance of the Holy Spirit, he is soon taught that a definite consecration must be made as one of the Bible conditions for sanctification. Now comes the searching and far-reaching question: Are you willing to make this consecration? This means everything to the soul. All the sacred God-given treasures around which the heart's affections have so closely entwined, and which have become a part of the very life itself, are now required to be yielded up to Jesus as a voluntary offering. There is no danger that anything will be forgotten; for the heart-searching eye of God will reveal every hidden treasure, and make known the depths of meaning to the soul, which will be astounded to know as never before how much it means to lay all of itself and sacred treasures at the feet of Jesus. There comes an inward struggle, perhaps. The heart's affections tighten around the sacred objects of its love, until they seem dearer than ever before; but while this is being done there comes a sadness stealing over the soul; for whereas these objects seem so sacred and precious, there is a consciousness within that Jesus is slighted. The affections are divided between Jesus and these treasures. He asks the question, "Lovest thou me more than these?" You can answer, "Yes, Lord; thou knowest that I love thee." But must I give up these treasures, these sacred things of my heart for thee? Can not I have both them and thee? This is where death must set in. Thank God, it is the death-route, the only road to this glorious Canaan of soul-rest. It soon becomes a significant fact thoroughly understood that Jesus requires the undivided heart and every affection. You cannot refuse him. He has done too much for you. He suffered without the gate that he might sanctify you with his own blood. He gave himself for the church that he might sanctify and cleanse it; and now how can you withhold anything from him? He has a just right to all your affections. He gave his all for you, and now it is right that you should give your all for him. He sacrificed his life for you; now you are brought to the sacrifice of your life for him--a living sacrifice. You see that this claim is right and just. It is a reasonable requirement on his part; a "reasonable service" on your part. But, dear reader, the question must be answered. Are you going to yield? You may answer, Yes; but the Lord requires you to do so at once. Usually when the soul is brought face to face with this consecration and begins to become willing to yield up its treasures, it lets go the easiest ones first, and as one by one they are counted over to the Lord there comes a final struggle; the dearest one of all is now before you. The emotions of the heart begin to deepen as the affections cling to this treasure. Everything has now centered upon this one object. It is to be sacrificed for Jesus or he must be sacrificed for it. Which will it be? It must be Jesus only. Much reasoning may arise upon this important matter, but all is vain. There must be the yielding. You must say from the depths of your soul, "Thy will be done." You have often said this before, but it never meant nearly what it does now. You truly feel the agonies of death. Were you to be laid on your death-bed or in your coffin, there would be no greater separation from everything of this earth than this. No loved one can now go with you. No treasure can be kept as your own. The lone, dark vale must be crossed. No sympathy of friend can follow you. Everything must be left behind. Dear reader, this is a critical moment. The destiny of your soul is hanging upon a single thread. You are swinging out over the deep precipice--clinging, clinging, clinging. Jesus demands that you let go and drop completely into his will. You desire to do this, but your soul shrinks. It seems so dark below. Many a one has here taken counsel with his own soul and decided to swing back upon the side of self, thereby losing incalculable wealth, and missing this glorious soul-rest which "remaineth therefore ... for the people of God." O dear soul, do not fail to labor to enter in! Let the death struggle continue until it has completed its work--until you have truly ceased from your own works. The floodgates of heaven are ready to open and fill you with such glory that it will cause this old world to fade out of sight; but not until you can cheerfully and willingly let go and say to Jesus, "Thy will be done." Your Pentecost is just in reach. Will you have it, or will you not? In the dedication of the tabernacle we have a beautiful type of the dedication of ourselves to this "reasonable service" of God. The erection of the tabernacle, the placing of all the furniture, and the arrangement of the entire structure had to be made in every respect "according to the pattern" shown to Moses on the mount. In the completion of all the work, we read in Ex. 40 that it was now all done "as the Lord commanded Moses." He might have thought it did not matter much about some of these things, and that the Lord would not require every small thing to be done according to the pattern; but no matter what he might have thought, he knew that obedience to every requirement of the Lord was his only safety; so he made everything according to the pattern. In verse 33 the record says, "So Moses finished the work." Dear soul, can this be said of you? Have you finished the work? Have you ceased from your own works? You must reach this point in your consecration, so you can realize just as definitely as Moses did, that you have truly finished the work. When this was the condition in the dedication of the tabernacle, "a cloud covered the tent of the congregation, and the glory of the Lord filled the tabernacle. And Moses was not able to enter into the tent of the congregation, because the cloud abode thereon, and the glory of the Lord filled the tabernacle." V. 34. When Moses had finished the work and the dedication was complete, the glory of the Lord came into the tabernacle. So it is with the consecrated heart; the glory of the Lord will fill it. In the dedication of the temple we also have a type of this Pentecostal experience. "Solomon, and all the congregation of Israel that were assembled unto him before the ark, sacrificed sheep and oxen, which could not be told nor numbered for multitude."--2 Chron. 5:6. See the sacrifice unto the Lord. Nothing was too great; everything was fully yielded up to him without reserve. "And it came to pass, when the priests were come out of the holy place: (for all the priests that were present were sanctified, and did not then wait by course: also the Levites which were the singers, all of them of Asaph, of Heman, of Jeduthun, with their sons and their brethren, being arrayed in white linen having cymbals and psalteries and harps, stood at the east end of the altar, and with them an hundred and twenty priests sounding with trumpets:) it came even to pass, as the trumpeters and singers were as one, to make one sound to be heard in praising and thanking the Lord; and when they lifted up their voice with the trumpets and cymbals and instruments of musick, and praised the Lord, saying, For he is good; for his mercy endureth forever: that then the house was filled with a cloud, even the house of the Lord; so that the priests could not stand to minister by reason of the cloud; for the glory of the Lord had filled the house of God."--2 Chron. 5:11-14. Thus we see that when the sacrifice was complete and everything was in perfect order, the glory of God filled the temple. This was but a type of the day of Pentecost at Jerusalem. In the type, the glory of the Lord filled the consecrated temple. In the antitype, the consecrated hearts (the temples of the Holy Ghost) were filled with the glory of the Lord. Now this is just what Jesus will do with every consecrated heart today. "He shall baptize you with the Holy Ghost and with fire."--Matt. 3:11. But the consecration must be complete. It is reasonable that Jesus should require us to yield up everything to him. Our hearts cannot be purified until every affection is yielded. He requires this for our own highest good. He wants the supreme right of way so that he can work his own will in our entire being. He wants the absolute control, so that he can get between us and everything. Praise his name! this is for our benefit, which we will plainly see when once we have paid the full price. When his will is completely wrought in us, then he will with himself freely give us all things for our greatest good and his highest glory. Even an hundredfold shall be our delightful portion. But the loss of all things must precede this wonderful increase. An absolute death must precede this abundant life. Then and then only can the Holy Ghost come into and possess the temple. Oh, that every professed believer in Jesus might see the importance of this consecration! The suffering of death is serious indeed; but the unspeakable glory that follows causes the enraptured soul to be astonished at the marvelous gain for so small a loss. The perfect love of Jesus now flows from his heart into the one which has yielded its all to him. The undivided affections now feel the blessedness of perfect unity with him--married indeed to him who is raised from the dead. CHAPTER IV The Holy Spirit of Promise The Holy Spirit was promised through the prophets. "Until the spirit be poured upon us from on high, and the wilderness be a fruitful field, and the fruitful field be counted for a forest. Then judgment shall dwell in the wilderness, and righteousness remain in the fruitful field. And the work of righteousness shall be peace; and the effect of righteousness quietness and assurance forever. And my people shall dwell in a peaceable habitation, and in sure dwellings, and in quiet resting places."--Isa. 32:15-18. "And I will give them one heart, and I will put a new spirit within you; and I will take the stony heart out of their flesh, and will give them a heart of flesh: that they may walk in my statutes, and keep mine ordinances, and do them: and they shall be my people, and I will be their God."--Ezek. 11:19, 20. "For I will pour water upon him that is thirsty, and floods upon the dry ground: I will pour my spirit upon thy seed, and my blessing upon thine offspring: and they shall spring up as among the grass, as willows by the water courses."--Isa. 44:3, 4. "Then will I sprinkle clean water upon you, and ye shall be clean: from all your filthiness, and from all your idols, will I cleanse you. A new heart also will I give you, and a new spirit will I put within you: and I will take away the stony heart out of your flesh, and I will give you an heart of flesh. And I will put my spirit within you, and cause you to walk in my statutes, and ye shall keep my judgments, and do them. And ye shall dwell in the land that I gave to your fathers; and ye shall be my people, and I will be your God."--Ezek. 36:25-28. "And it shall come to pass afterward, that I will pour out my spirit upon all flesh; and your sons and your daughters shall prophesy, your old men shall dream dreams, and your young men shall see visions: and also upon the servants and upon the handmaids in those days will I pour out my spirit."--Joel 2:28, 29. =Promised through Christ.= "And, behold, I send the promise of my Father upon you: but tarry ye in the city of Jerusalem, until ye be endued with power from on high."--Luke 24:49. "But whosoever drinketh of the water that I shall give him shall never thirst; but the water that I shall give him shall be in him a well of water springing up into everlasting life."--John 4:14. "He that believeth on me, as the scripture hath said, out of his belly shall flow rivers of living water. (But this spake he of the Spirit, which they that believe on him should receive: for the Holy Ghost was not yet given, because that Jesus was not yet glorified.)"--John 7:38, 39. "If ye love me, keep my commandments. And I will pray the Father, and he shall give you another Comforter, that he may abide with you forever; even the Spirit of truth; whom the world cannot receive, because it seeth him not, neither knoweth him: but ye know him; for he dwelleth with you, and shall be in you. At that day ye shall know that I am in my Father, and ye in me, and I in you. But the Comforter, which is the Holy Ghost, whom the Father will send in my name, he shall teach you all things, and bring all things to your remembrance, whatsoever I have said unto you."--John 14:15-17, 20, 26. "But when the Comforter is come, whom I will send you from the Father, even the Spirit of truth, which proceedeth from the Father, he shall testify of me."--John 15:26. * * * * * "Nevertheless I tell you the truth; It is expedient for you that I go away: for if I go not away, the Comforter will not come unto you; but if I depart, I will send him unto you. And when he is come, he will reprove the world of sin, and of righteousness, and of judgment: of sin, because they believe not on me; of righteousness, because I go to my Father, and ye see me no more; of judgment, because the prince of this world is judged. I have yet many things to say unto you, but ye cannot bear them now. Howbeit when he, the Spirit of truth, is come, he will guide you into all truth: for he shall not speak of himself; but whatsoever he shall hear, that shall he speak: and he will show you things to come. He shall glorify me: for he shall receive of mine, and shall show it unto you. All things that the Father hath are mine: therefore said I, that he shall take of mine, and shall show it unto you."--John 16:7-15. "John truly baptized with water; but ye shall be baptized with the Holy Ghost not many days hence."--Acts 1:5. A Fulfillment of This Promise "And when the day of Pentecost was fully come, they were all with one accord in one place. And suddenly there came a sound from heaven as of a rushing mighty wind, and it filled all the house where they were sitting. And there appeared unto them cloven tongues like as of fire, and it sat upon each of them. And they were all filled with the Holy Ghost."--Acts 2:1-4. A Testimony of Its Fulfillment "But this is that which was spoken by the prophet Joel; and it shall come to pass in the last days, saith God, I will pour out of my Spirit upon all flesh: and your sons and your daughters shall prophesy, and your young men shall see visions, and your old men shall dream dreams: and on my servants and on my handmaidens I will pour out in those days of my Spirit; and they shall prophesy.... This Jesus hath God raised up, whereof we all are witnesses. Therefore being by the right hand of God exalted, and having received of the Father the promise of the Holy Ghost, he hath shed forth this, which ye now see and hear."--Acts 2:16-18, 32, 33. To Whom Is This Promised? "Then Peter said unto them, Repent, and be baptized every one of you in the name of Jesus Christ for the remission of sins, and ye shall receive the gift of the Holy Ghost. For the promise is unto you, and to your children, and to all that are afar off, even as many as the Lord our God shall call."--Acts 2:38, 39. "And we are his witnesses of these things; and so is also the Holy Ghost, whom God hath given to them that obey him."--Acts 5:32. "That the blessing of Abraham might come on the Gentiles through Jesus Christ; that we might receive the promise of the Spirit through faith."--Gal. 3:14. "That I should be the minister of Jesus Christ to the Gentiles, ministering the gospel of God, that the offering up of the Gentiles might be acceptable, being sanctified by the Holy Ghost."--Rom. 15:16. "But we are bound to give thanks always to God for you, brethren beloved of the Lord, because God hath from the beginning chosen you to salvation through sanctification of the Spirit and belief of the truth."--2 Thess. 2:13. In a previous chapter we have noticed that the Holy Ghost experience of the apostles and all those of the early church was the same; and we see definitely by the texts just quoted that it is the design of God that all believers receive it. Also we have seen that this Holy Ghost experience is a subsequent one to regeneration, and identical with sanctification. Every young convert who has truly been regenerated, will in due time find that something more needs to be done in his heart before he can fully realize an experience that will correspond with the fulfillment of the many exceeding great and precious promises of the Holy Ghost. The Scriptures clearly teach us that regeneration is a work of the Holy Spirit. "For by one Spirit are we all baptized into one body."--1 Cor. 12:13. This does not have reference to the Pentecostal baptism, but to the work of the Holy Spirit in regeneration, inducting us into the body of Christ, the church. This is very different from the baptism with the Holy Ghost. In regeneration the Holy Ghost baptizes the believer into Christ; in sanctification Christ baptizes the believer with the Holy Ghost. "He shall baptize you with the Holy Ghost and with fire."--Matt. 3:11. This latter is the sanctification and Pentecostal experience. Both are spiritual experiences. When reading these wonderful promises by the prophets, we can clearly distinguish the two works of grace foretold. The birth of the Spirit (John 3:3-8), or that experience which inducts us into Christ, must necessarily precede the experience of sanctification. The Holy Ghost will never come into the temple to abide until he has first gained possession of the same. The heart must first be both justified and fully consecrated before the divine Guest can make it his exclusive and permanent abode. This glorious grace of sanctification does not detract from the marvelous work of justification. Both have their import and place in God's wonderful redemption plan, and stand out distinctly in many of the scriptures; and yet we occasionally hear of some who say of this beautiful doctrine that it is not taught in the word of God. Why such remarks are made is simply because of a misconception of the glorious redemption plan--in some instances it is owing to the perverted doctrines of men, while in others it may be because of a perverted individual experience of justification. To the willing and obedient heart, God will impart knowledge and understanding of his sweet and glorious soul-rest. Oh, let us praise and magnify the Lord for his wonderful grace that he has so abundantly supplied through repentance toward God and faith toward our Lord Jesus Christ, that he is so willing and ready to remove from our hearts the guilt of all our sins and transgressions, and remember them against us no more forever, and then bestow upon us this blessed inheritance among them which are sanctified by faith that is in Christ Jesus! Would that every justified believer might be kept from all the perverted doctrines of men, so that the heart could receive the knowledge of the pure word of God and become instructed in the doctrine of the Holy Ghost life. The promise of the Father which the resurrected Christ said he would send upon his justified disciples was no more a promise for them than for every justified believer throughout the gospel dispensation. Why then should any of us come short of entering into this blessed covenant of an entire consecration and receiving the fulfillment of the promise? Thank God it is for us and our children and to all that are afar off. Until the believer reaches this grace, he is not in his normal spiritual condition, and cannot live the Christ-life in a manner that is perfectly satisfactory to his own heart. The great need is a clean heart and the indwelling Holy Spirit, without which there is not the power within at all times to withstand every evil attack of the enemy with perfect victory. Jesus knew this need in his disciples. Their usefulness in the world could not be satisfactory until they received the fulfillment of the promise. They had been useful in his hands and under his personal guidance in the ministry of the gospel of the kingdom. They had already by his help been able to bear fruit, but it was the will of the Father that they should bear more fruit, through the power of the Spirit-filled life; hence they were not to depart from Jerusalem until they were endued with power from on high. "Ye shall receive power after that the Holy Ghost is come upon you." How many of the dear people of God today have never had their Pentecost! Some are out in the world preaching the gospel with no deeper spiritual experience than that of the disciples before they tarried at Jerusalem. Many have mistaken some natural ability for the power of the Holy Ghost. Others have accepted the doctrine of sanctification theoretically--made a formal consecration and claimed the experience, but have never received the Holy Ghost. Dearly beloved brethren and sisters, let us entreat you to tarry and do not depart from your positive death bed consecration, until you are endued with power from on high. It is the will of the Father that you receive the Holy Spirit to possess your being--the consecrated temple--and make your life from this moment a reproduction of the life of Jesus. He is not here now as he was during his earthly ministry, but the Father has designed that the Holy Spirit should dwell in the hearts of consecrated men and women who shall go forth into the world and be witnesses unto Jesus--representatives that will live the Christ-life in this world, so that men may plainly see his character and fruits in us. When Jesus ascended to the throne, he by no means intended that his people should be left comfortless, or deprived of his presence; but rather, he said, "It is expedient for you that I go away." The "Comforter, which is the Holy Ghost," is the divine executive of Jesus. He was the power and life in Jesus when here in his redemption work, and when he ascended to his throne in heaven the Holy Ghost descended to earth to carry on this glorious redemption work to the end of the world. But he must have human instrumentality through which to work. Where he can find a truly consecrated temple, there he makes his abode, and taking full control of the entire being, performs the perfect will of God through this instrumentality. This is why the apostles were so much more useful after Pentecost than before. They were now fully possessed by the Holy Ghost, and in, through faith in, the name of Jesus were enabled to shake the world. Jesus has left his name here on earth. Through it the Holy Spirit now effects this great redemption. He cannot do this by himself. He cannot "reprove the world of sin, of righteousness, and of judgment," only as he can find consecrated hearts on earth in which to abide. The Spirit-filled lives of the people are the only factors that can be used in the hand of God to produce apostolic results in these perilous days in which we live. This final reformation was unquestionably begun by the power of the Holy Spirit, and will never be completed by any other power. It is a spiritual work, and only as the glorious doctrine of sanctification is taught and the experience obtained and retained, will the church reach the apostolic plane. CHAPTER V. Our Inheritance "And now, brethren, I commend you to God, and to the word of his grace, which is able to build you up, and give you an inheritance among all them which are sanctified."--Acts 20:32. "And inheritance among them which are sanctified by faith that is in me."--Acts 26:18. "For this is the will of God, even your sanctification."--1 Thess. 4:3. "That ye be not slothful, but followers of them who through faith and patience inherit the promises. For when God made promise to Abraham, because he could swear by no greater, he sware by himself, saying, Surely blessing I will bless thee, and multiplying I will multiply thee. And so after he had patiently endured, he obtained the promise. For men verily swear by the greater: and an oath for confirmation is to them an end of all strife. Wherein God, willing more abundantly to show unto the heirs of promise the immutability of his counsel, confirmed it by an oath: that by two immutable things, in which it was impossible for God to lie, we might have a strong consolation, who have fled for refuge to lay hold upon the hope set before us: which hope we have as an anchor of the soul, both sure and steadfast, and which entereth into that within the veil."--Heb. 6:12-19. "But into the second went the high priest alone once every year, not without blood, which he offered for himself, and for the errors of the people: the Holy Ghost this signifying, that the way into the holiest of all was not yet made manifest, while as the first tabernacle was yet standing: which was a figure for the time then present, in which were offered both gifts and sacrifices, that could not make him that did the service perfect, as pertaining to the conscience; which stood only in meats and drinks, and divers washings and carnal ordinances, imposed on them until the time of reformation. But Christ being come an high priest of good things to come, by a greater and more perfect tabernacle, not made with hands, that is to say, not of this building; neither by the blood of goats and calves, but by his own blood he entered in once into the holy place, having obtained eternal redemption for us. For if the blood of bulls and of goats, and the ashes of a heifer sprinkling the unclean, sanctifieth to the purifying of the flesh; how much more shall the blood of Christ, who through the eternal Spirit offered himself without spot to God, purge your conscience from dead works to serve the living God? And for this cause he is the mediator of the new testament, that by means of death, for the redemption of transgressions that were under the first testament, they which are called might receive the promise of eternal inheritance."--Heb. 9:7-15. "Wherefore when he cometh into the world, he saith, Sacrifice and offering thou wouldest not, but a body hast thou prepared me: ... Above when he said, Sacrifice and offering and burnt offerings and offering for sin thou wouldest not, neither hadst pleasure therein which are offered by the law; then said he, Lo, I come to do thy will, O God. He taketh away the first, that he may establish the second. By the which will we are sanctified through the offering of the body of Jesus Christ once for all ... For by one offering he hath perfected for ever them that are sanctified."--Heb. 10:5, 8-10, 14. "Husbands, love your wives, even as Christ also loved the church, and gave himself for it; that he might sanctify and cleanse it with the washing of water by the word, that he might present it to himself a glorious church, not having spot, or wrinkle, or any such thing: but that it should be holy and without blemish."--Eph. 5:25-27. "In whom also we have obtained an inheritance, being predestinated according to the purpose of him who worketh all things after the counsel of his own will: ... in whom ye also trusted, after that ye heard the word of truth, the gospel of your salvation; in whom also after that ye believed ye were sealed with that holy Spirit of promise, which is the earnest of our inheritance until the redemption of the purchased possession, unto the praise of his glory." "Who gave himself for us, that he might redeem us from all iniquity, and purify unto himself a peculiar people, zealous of good works."--Tit. 2:14. "To perform the mercy promised to our fathers, and to remember his holy covenant; the oath which he sware to our father Abraham, that he would grant unto us, that we being delivered out of the hand of our enemies, might serve him without fear, in holiness and righteousness before him, all the days of our life."--Luke 1:72-75. "Now to Abraham and his seed were the promises made. He saith not, And to seeds as of many; but as of one, And to thy seed, which is Christ ... For if the inheritance be of the law, it is no more of promise but God gave it to Abraham by promise." "That the blessing of Abraham might come on the Gentiles through Jesus Christ, that we might receive the promise of the Spirit through faith." "And if ye be Christ's, then are ye Abraham's seed, and heirs according to the promise."--Gal. 3:16, 18, 14, 29. The Abrahamic covenant embraced a twofold nature: the promised seed, and the promised land. Isaac was the literal fulfillment of the promised seed; Canaan, the literal fulfillment of the promised land. These were but the foreshadowing of their great and glorious antitype, Christ and the gospel, which are the spiritual fulfillment of the promises made to Abraham. "And in thy seed shall all the kindreds of the earth be blessed," which blessing begins in the regenerate heart, is perfected in the inheritance of entire sanctification, and consummated in that inheritance "reserved in heaven for us." That part which is yet reserved in heaven for us will be realized in due time, when this mortal shall put on immortality and the redemption of Christ shall be completed for spirit, soul, and body. We can all rejoice in this "blessed hope" which shall be fully realized when Jesus the resurrected Redeemer shall come again and fashion our dying bodies like unto his glorious body. But the object of this chapter is to point out the scriptures which teach us the blessed truth of the present-tense gospel inheritance, which in the redemption plan is to be realized by the people of God in this gospel dispensation, on this side of the second coming of Christ. The blessed grace of entire sanctification is scripturally the bequest of God to his people. It is not simply the will of God in the sense that he desires us to have this experience, but it is truly a blood-bought inheritance, provided and willed by our Father through Jesus Christ to every child of God. This blessed experience of regeneration, or the divine birth, inducts us into the family of God, making us a scriptural heir to all the good things of Father's possessions. Father has perfected every necessary provision for every one of his children to come into immediate possession of this inheritance. A will or testament must specify the nature of the inheritance, mention distinctly the names of the heirs, must have the signature of the testator affixed in the presence of witnesses, should appoint an executor, and in every respect it must be perfect or it will not stand legally. Scripturally, this is equally as true. The New Testament is the will, which distinctly specifies the nature of the inheritance of the people of God "among them which are sanctified." The sanctified have entered into their possessions of this Holy Ghost Canaan, and now every regenerated child of God who knows his name is written in Father's family record--the Book of life--soon finds by reading the will that this inheritance is for him. He knows it as he reads and believes, and more and more the Holy Spirit leads him to meet all the spiritual conditions requisite to the coming into possession of this inheritance. He sees also in the will, the signature of the testator. He sees that the Father has authorized Jesus Christ to make this will of force. Legally, a will is not of force until after the death of the testator. Scripturally, this is equally a fact. The child of God sees that it requires the death of the testator to make it possible that he could be sanctified. He reads in the will that Jesus, the testator, suffered without the gate that he might sanctify his people with his own blood and that this is the will of God, even your sanctification. We see in the will that Father has given every necessary instruction to enable us to meet every condition of entrance into this blessed possession. His word teaches us that as Abraham with faith and patience obtained the promise, so we should profit by his example. God has shown us through his covenant with Abraham that what he promises he is ready and able to fulfill. He has shown his people, who are the heirs of this inheritance, the immutability of his counsel by his word and by his oath, that it is impossible for him to break his word and that we should come to him with perfect confidence that he will do just what he has promised. There is a remarkable certainty in the fulfillment of this wonderful will. It is as far above any earthly will or testament as the heavens are higher than the earth. In an earthly will made by man, the very incident that makes the will of force also makes it liable to become annulled; for after the death of the testator there frequently is found a defect in the will, also there are instances where the heirs, dissatisfied with their portion of the inheritance, proceed by legal process to annul the entire will and have a new one made according to their own desires. But no such objections can possibly be brought against this divine will. There are three reasons why it is absolutely beyond the power of man or principality to overthrow this will. 1. It is positively without fault. God had made a will, the old testament, which was defective. The apostle says, "For if that first covenant had been faultless, then should no place have been sought for the second."--Heb. 8:7. In the preceding verse he says, "But now hath he obtained a more excellent ministry, by how much also he is the mediator of a better covenant [testament or will], which was established upon better promises." The blood of those animals in the old covenant was acceptable under that dispensation, but it could not produce the desired effect in sanctification. It could only sanctify to the purifying of the flesh; could not reach the spiritual and moral nature of man; for there was no spiritual nor moral nature in the sacrifice. It was only a sacrifice of animal life; therefore it could only purify the flesh, or animal life, of man (Heb. 9:13) in a ceremonial sense. Therefore, the first will or testament was necessarily defective, and God himself has annulled it. Heb. 8:13. But Father's last will is vastly different. It is complete, perfect, and utterly without fault. 2. It is so divinely and infinitely perfect in its power to sanctify and reach every inmost need of the heart that none of the heirs can possibly become dissatisfied with their individual portion; for this portion is the entire inheritance for each individual heir. It is not divided into certain bounded portions for different heirs, but each is entitled to the entire inheritance, and can come into the full enjoyment of the whole possession without diminishing, in the least degree, the privilege of every heir to enjoy the same. This makes it unspeakably satisfactory. But what yet adds to it in its power to satisfy, is that, the sacrifice which was required to bring this will and testament into force was the precious blood of Christ. The great purpose of God in this judicial sacrifice was that the sins of the world might be forgiven, that we might thus become the sons of God and heirs of this inheritance. But, my dear brother and sister, our Saviour had also another purpose in view in this stupendous sacrifice. He gave himself for the church, that he might sanctify and cleanse it. Eph. 5:25, 26 and Heb. 13:12. Ah, dear reader, do you not see your inheritance in this? His blood can sanctify wholly our spiritual, moral and physical nature. The blood of the old will had no spiritual nor moral power in it at all; therefore, no wonder it could sanctify only to the purifying of the flesh. But, oh, the matchless, marvelous grace of God to prepare a sacrifice (a body--Heb. 10:5) pure and spotless spiritually, morally, and physically, which blood can cleanse our corresponding nature spiritually, morally, and physically, and reaching every spot of our entire being, make us clean from the least and last remains of sin. In comparing these sacrifices no wonder the apostle asks, "How much more shall the blood of Christ, who through the eternal Spirit offered himself without spot to God, purge your conscience from dead works to serve the living God?" Truly, when we have obtained this inheritance we can sing with the inspired poet "I have found it, Lord, in thee, An everlasting store, Of comfort, joy, and bliss to me, How can I wish for more?" Praise God for the cleansing which reaches our inmost soul and saves to the uttermost! It, therefore, readers, is impossible for the heir to become dissatisfied with the inheritance. 3. To make the inheritance doubly certain, we have already seen that God has confirmed it by two immutable things; his word, and his oath; but to add still more to this matter and make it absolutely certain and impossible for any principality or power to overthrow this will, God has appointed Jesus Christ to be executor of his own will. From a human standpoint this would be impossible; for the will could not be of force at all while the testator was alive, and his death would render him incapable of any part in it as an executor. But with God these things are possible; for when the testator died that he might bring this will into force, he could not be holden by the power of death; but arose again from the dead, that he might lead captivity captive and give gifts unto men. Thus he has become the executor of his own will, and now stands ready to bestow upon every heir the full possession of his inheritance. Dear reader, this is the glorious land of promise of which the land of Canaan was but a type. The children of Israel were the heirs of that land because they were the children of Abraham. We are heirs to this Holy Ghost Canaan because we are the children of God through Christ. This Holy Spirit life can only be obtained through this God-appointed plan. It is the "inheritance among them which are sanctified." God gave it to Abraham by promise, and as his faith grasped hold on the promises he saw beyond the literal seed into the blessings of the gospel of Christ and this glorious Holy Spirit life. Christ has fulfilled these promises which Abraham saw and believed; and now the apostle can truly say in looking over this wonderful plan, that "they which be of faith are blessed with faithful Abraham. That the blessing of Abraham might come on the Gentiles through Jesus Christ; that we might receive the promise of the Spirit through faith."--Gal. 3:9, 14. CHAPTER VI. Sanctified by Faith "But without faith it is impossible to please him: for he that cometh to God must believe that he is, and that he is a rewarder of them that diligently seek him."--Heb. 11:6. "That they may receive forgiveness of sins, and inheritance among them which are sanctified by faith that is in me."--Acts 26:18. "Therefore being justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ: by whom also we have access by faith into this grace wherein we stand."--Rom. 5:1, 2. Faith in the blood of Christ. "Wherefore Jesus also, that he might sanctify the people with his own blood, suffered without the gate."--Heb. 13:12. "But if we walk in the light, as he is in the light, we have fellowship one with another, and the blood of Jesus Christ his Son cleanseth us from all sin."--1 John 1:7. Dead to sin by faith. "Knowing this, that our old man is crucified with him, that the body of sin might be destroyed, that henceforth we should not serve sin. For he that is dead is freed from sin ... Likewise reckon ye also yourselves to be dead indeed unto sin, but alive unto God through Jesus Christ our Lord."--Rom. 6:6, 7, 11. Free from sin by faith. "Being then made free from sin, ye became the servants of righteousness ... For as ye have yielded your members servants to uncleanness and to iniquity unto iniquity; even so now yield your members servants to righteousness unto holiness ... But now being made free from sin, and become servants to God, ye have your fruit unto holiness, and the end everlasting life."--Rom. 6:18-22. "Jesus answered them, Verily, verily, I say unto you, Whosoever committeth sin is the servant of sin. And the servant abideth not in the house for ever: but the Son abideth ever. If the Son therefore shall make you free, ye shall be free indeed."--John 8:34-36. "And ye know that he was manifested to take away our sins; and in him is no sin. Whosoever abideth in him sinneth not: whosoever sinneth hath not seen him, neither known him.... He that committeth sin is of the devil; for the devil sinneth from the beginning. For this purpose the Son of God was manifested, that he might destroy the works of the devil. Whosoever is born of God doth not commit sin; for his seed remaineth in him: and he cannot sin, because he is born of God. In this the children of God are manifest, and the children of the devil."--1 John 3:5-10. A pure heart by faith. "And God, which knoweth the hearts, bare them witness, giving them the Holy Ghost, even as he did unto us; and put no difference between us and them, purifying their hearts by faith."--Acts 15:8, 9. We receive the Holy Spirit by faith. "That the blessing of Abraham might come on the Gentiles through Jesus Christ: that we might receive the promise of the Spirit through faith."--Gal. 3:14. "That I should be the minister of Jesus Christ to the Gentiles, ministering the gospel of God, that the offering up of the Gentiles might be acceptable, being sanctified by the Holy Ghost."--Rom. 15:16. "If ye then, being evil [earthly], know how to give good gifts unto your children: how much more shall your heavenly Father give the Holy Spirit to them that ask him?"--Luke 11:13. Sanctification is a redemption blessing offered to us upon specified conditions. The natural and general blessings of God toward men, such as the sunshine, rain, and all other temporal or earthly blessings, may be received alike by both saint and sinner, who come into conformity with the natural laws by which these natural blessings are governed. Every redemption or spiritual blessing is also governed by divinely fixed laws, which if complied with will invariably bring to us all that is contained in the promise. God is able to bestow upon us these blessings unconditionally if this should be his sovereign will in some individual instances; but according to his redemption plan there is no assurance given to anyone for any of these specified blessings without a strict conformity to divine law. The word of God plainly sets forth the laws upon which these different redemption blessings are based. Repentance and faith are the laws of justification. It is a divinely established fact that God cannot lie. He has forever settled his word in heaven and also upon earth; therefore, it is impossible that any sinner should comply with the laws of repentance and faith and not be justified. Consecration and faith are the laws of sanctification, which if complied with, must necessarily bring us into this glorious soul-rest. We have considered the law of consecration as a condition of sanctification in a previous chapter; and from the quoted texts in this chapter we will now briefly consider the law of faith. These laws are definitely fixed, and must as definitely be complied with. A definite consecration and a definite faith will produce a definite experience. One great lack in the church today is a lack of definiteness. The doctrine of sanctification must be more definitely taught by God's anointed ministry, who have themselves definitely met the conditions, both to obtain and retain this definite experience. When it is definitely taught it will consequently be definitely sought and obtained. In the apostle's commission we distinctly see that we are sanctified by faith. Acts 26:18. We also see that Jesus suffered on the cross that he might sanctify us with his own blood. This points us to the fact that we must have faith in his blood. This grace is purchased for us, and now it is for us to receive it. We also see that he has made provision in this same purchase that we may be kept sanctified. This is upon the simple condition of walking in the light as he is in the light. The result of which is: his blood cleanseth us from all sin. These precious truths will do us no good if we do not believe them. No heart can ever receive the benefits of this inestimable purchase without faith. Faith is the hand that reaches out and takes it. Jesus can do no more than he has done to bring it to us. He holds it out to us, all perfect and complete, and as we meet the conditions of consecration and faith it becomes ours. The apostle teaches us in Rom. 6:11 to reckon ourselves "dead indeed unto sin." This can be done only by faith. The reckoning of faith is a very simple process; it is just believing God. Abraham believed God, simply reckoned that what God said was true, and then God counted something to Abraham. He counted it to him for righteousness. This is the divine law of faith. When we believe it is so because God says it, then God makes it so because we believe it. This law applies to all the graces of the gospel alike. It is a sad fact that some professing Christians do not believe we can be sanctified in this life. Now, it is utterly impossible for such people to get it. They do not believe. The blood of Christ cannot sanctify them in this condition. It is not for them at all. It is only for them that believe, and of course no one can believe for it in the scriptural sense without having met the condition of scriptural consecration. Then the scriptural reckoning will bring the scriptural and satisfactory result. Let us illustrate with a simple mathematical reckoning. In a case of addition we take two numbers and reckon them together before we get the sum. It can never be obtained any other way. The two numbers are entirely distinct and separate from each other until they are reckoned together. It is the reckoning that produces the sum. This is exactly true in the process of faith. The justified believer comes to God for his inheritance of sanctification. He makes the absolute and definite consecration. He sees that the blood of Jesus has been shed that he may be sanctified. This is Jesus' part. The consecration is the believer's part. There are the two separate parts which, if they are not reckoned together, will never produce the result. We might say that we have now made the consecration, and can do no more. This would be a mistake, we can do more: we have not yet done the reckoning. We can take the two parts, the blood of Jesus and our consecration, and by faith add them together, and according to the immutable law of God, which is the law of faith, the sum of the reckoning is, our sanctification. This is the scriptural method of obtaining this experience; and as we from henceforth reckon ourselves dead indeed unto sin upon the condition of an absolute, unbroken consecration, we may rest assured that the blood of Jesus keeps us cleansed from all sin. The fact that some one may say he does not believe we can be kept free from sin, by no means affects this divine law. It is as true as heaven, despite all the unbelief of men. Oh, the power of the sin-cleansing blood! Can we not say with deep, heartfelt reality, "Hallelujah for the cleansing; It has reached my inmost soul"? Truly it is the sweet soul-rest, the heavenly Canaan of the soul, which is the inheritance of the people of God. The apostle Peter, in his testimony of the inwrought grace of God at Pentecost, speaks of this law of faith, which effected in him and his brethren at Jerusalem, as well as the household of Cornelius upon the event of their induction into this glorious grace, the experience of heart purity, "and put no difference between us and them, purifying their hearts by faith." This is one phase of sanctification, and according to the testimony of Peter, was a part of the pentecostal experience. The other phase of it is, in the previous verse of this testimony, "giving them the Holy Ghost, even as he did unto us." This is explained by the apostle Paul. "That we might receive the promise of the Spirit through faith."--Gal. 3:14. Now if we turn to Rom. 15:16, again we see that we are "sanctified by the Holy Ghost." Certainly it could not be made more plain than these scriptures set it forth. We receive the pure heart and the Holy Spirit by faith, which experience is scripturally termed sanctification; therefore, we can understand the language of Jesus in that part of the commission of the apostle already quoted: "and inheritance among them which are sanctified by faith that is in me." Dear brother and sister, let us magnify God and the name of Jesus for our inheritance, and if there should be one reader who has not yet entered into this promised land, let us go over at once and possess it. We see a beautiful example of faith in the experience of the children of Abraham crossing the Jordan to enter into their literal inheritance. The priests that bore the ark, which went before the people, were to be the first to go down into the stream, which, God had said, should be divided, and the people should go over into their inheritance. As they came down to the river, their feet were dipped into the stream before the waters parted. God had promised it. They believed it and obeyed accordingly, and God fulfilled his promise; the waters were parted, and they all passed over. How different this was from those who, forty years previous to this event had been brought by the hand of God to Kadesh Barnea, who had all the promises of God in their favor, that he would cause them to go in and possess the land. But because of unbelief they were sent back into the wilderness, to wander and die. This literal Canaan was their promised land, their land of rest, their very own; God had promised Abraham that it should be possessed by his seed. But these forfeited it because of unbelief. This was the type of this spiritual inheritance of sanctification, our land of rest, our very own, which we, the spiritual seed of Abraham through faith in Christ, are to go into and possess. The apostle gives us some wholesome admonition upon the importance of seeking to enter in. "Take heed, brethren, lest there be in any of you an evil heart of unbelief, in departing from the living God."--Heb. 3:4. An evil heart of unbelief will most certainly cause us to lose our inheritance. We are made partakers of it only by faith. As certainly as the unbelief of literal children of Abraham caused them to be rejected and disinherited, so will unbelief cause the same sad result in losing the spiritual inheritance. They provoked God with their unbelief, and he who had sworn to Abraham that his seed should possess Canaan, now sware that these unbelieving ones should not enter in. They could not enter in because of unbelief. God's word was not broken, however; for he brought into this land those of the children who, their unbelieving fathers said, would become a prey to the inhabitants of the land. And, what still keeps God's word from being broken is, that he has opened to us this glorious spiritual land, and tells us to go over and possess it. Dear brother, are you at Kadesh Barnea today, and afraid of the giants? God has given the land to us. The message of reproof comes to you with this solemn and important question, "How long are ye slack to go to possess the land which the Lord God of your fathers hath given you?" This gospel of sanctification is preached to us today as the gospel of literal Canaan was preached to those descendants of Abraham in that day. It did not profit them, not being mixed with faith in them that heard it. The apostle says, "We which have believed do enter into rest," but more must enter in. God's promise to Abraham must yet be more completely fulfilled. The question is simply left with us, Will we enter in or will we not? If we will not, then the inheritance will be given to others, and we will lose the blessed soul-rest that is provided in this redemption for the people of God. In his exhortation to us, the apostle says "Let us labor therefore to enter into that rest, lest any man fall after the same example of unbelief." "Oh, this blessed holy rest, On my Jesus' loving breast. Oh, the sweetness and completeness Of perfected holiness." CHAPTER VII The Subtraction Process The baptism with the Holy Ghost and fire, the entering into the heavenly inheritance of Canaan, and the possession of the land, and all the blessings that follow are unmistakably a process of addition to the already blessed experience of the justified soul. This addition is scripturally termed "sanctification." No mortal language can ever express how much of an addition it is; but there must necessarily precede this marvelous grace, a definite and absolute subtraction, a loss of all things for the excellency of Christ, a complete self-abnegation, which has been mentioned in a previous chapter upon consecration. Until this absolute loss of all things has been truly experienced, there cannot be obtained the gain of this additional experience. We cannot lay hold of the promised inheritance until we completely let go of everything else that has been called our own. There is, within our spiritual, moral, and physical nature, a depravity, "our old man," which must be extracted before we can possess the purity of heart so plainly taught in the word of God. This depravity is so deeply embedded in, and interwoven into, our affections and nature, that, like a closely fitting garment, it seems a part of us; and were it not for the plain teachings of the word of God, and the power of the all-cleansing blood of Christ which can reach the inmost center of our nature, purging out all unnatural tendencies and unholy tempers, the justified believer might conclude that this inborn depravity must be permitted to exist and remain with us all through life. But thank God! there is a remedy in this great redemption plan. The heart can be purified and become a holy temple for the indwelling of the Holy Ghost. This depends upon the plainly specified conditions taught in the word of God. He will prepare the temple for his abode if we but furnish him an absolute consecration of the temple. This is our part in this preparatory stage of the work of sanctification. In order that he may purify our nature, we must yield up to him everything that is to be purified. This process involves the loss of all things; for when the heart is thus yielded, everything that it clings to is also yielded, and then, and only then, can the blood of Christ be applied for a perfect cleansing. This is where the subtraction work is effected, where every vestige of depravity is removed from the heart; because it has for this purpose yielded to Jesus. The following scripture sets forth this experience. * * * * * "Knowing this, that our old man is crucified with him, that the body of sin might be destroyed, that henceforth we should not serve sin."--Rom. 6:6. It cannot be improved upon nor cultivated. It is sinful in nature, and must be dealt with according to the redemption law of crucifixion. It is condemned and must die. It is utterly worthless to God, and harmful to man; therefore, it must die. It clings to life with remarkable tenacity, and it is not within the power of man alone to put it to death. It has so entwined itself into our affections that they and each of their objects must be absolutely yielded up to death, even the most sacred treasures of the heart; so that the true work of purity may be perfectly wrought within us. To simply yield up our old man for his destruction would be but a pleasant sacrifice; for every justified believer who has obtained the knowledge of this enemy within becomes anxious for his destruction. It is not the yielding up of our old man, therefore, that seems such a loss to us; but when we see that our whole being, spirit, soul, and body, with every affection and its object, must be yielded up and truly laid upon the altar, we realize the subtraction process of sanctification--the loss of all things. Our old man cannot be crucified until everything is thus first yielded up. As long as any one object of our affection is withheld, the consecration is incomplete and the affections can not be purified from this depravity; hence the necessity of an absolute yielding up of everything, to obtain the excellency of this heavenly grace. In this condition we can assuredly experience the meaning of the words: "Knowing this, that our old man is crucified with him, that the body of sin might be destroyed." Thank God! this is a present-tense experience for everyone who is willing to be conformed to the perfect will of God. In this condition, Jesus can have the perfect right of way within, and work in us that which is well-pleasing in his sight. Some one might wonder if we are never permitted in this truly consecrated condition, to set our affections upon anything in this world, or, if we can possess anything as our own, if all must be yielded up and laid upon the altar. If our affections and every object of the same are yielded to Jesus, then we certainly cannot have them placed upon anything else. This is one of the grand provisions of his grace. Jesus now gets between us and every object of our affections. He not only has our affections, but he has the objects of our affections. In the consciousness of this loss to us we also become conscious of the loss of our old, depraved nature, and the gain of a glorious, heavenly purity which we before did not possess. But above all things, we become conscious of the fact that Jesus has become enthroned within our hearts, and now has full control of our entire being. In him we possess all things. He gives us back, with himself, everything that is good for us: father, mother, brother, sister, and every God-given blessing that we had yielded up to him. But they do not seem to us now like they did before. There is something between us and them. What is it? It is Jesus! This makes every blessing so much more precious to us now. A sacredness exists between us and our loved ones which we never realized before. They now get our love only as they get it through Jesus, for he is between us and them. Praise God for this precious experience! We gave everything, our all, for him. He purified our hearts and now gives everything, his all, to us. Without the subtraction of our all, first, we cannot obtain the addition, his all. Thus, after all, we lose nothing but the depravity of our nature, which loss, of course, involves the loss of all things for the time being, but means the gain of all things in the fullness of Christ. The apostle Paul expresses this crucifixion in his testimony in Gal. 2:20 "I am crucified with Christ: nevertheless I live; yet not I, but Christ liveth in me: and the life which I now live in the flesh I live by the faith of the Son of God, who loved me, and gave himself for me." There was something of the apostle that was crucified. It was the same as he speaks of in Rom. 6:6, "our old man." That depraved, carnal self, the proud, haughty Pharisee, the great Saul of Tarsus who considered himself of such importance among men. This was the =I= that was crucified; but there was an =I= who still lived. This was the humble, sanctified Paul, the servant of Jesus Christ, who now considered himself less than the least of all saints, and not worthy to be called an apostle. What a contrast between the two =I='s. The one, the big =I=; the other, the little =I=. They are exactly of opposite natures. The one was Paul's "old man," the other his humble individual self. Jesus and the big I cannot rule together in the same heart. How many there are today who have not reached the death experience. They have had their sins forgiven and realize that they are the children of God; but they cannot say that they are crucified with Christ, in the sense of the actual death of their old man. How many there are who are conscious of this inward foe, and yet are taught that it can never become dislodged from their nature and crucified. Praise God! he has provided a remedy in the blood of Christ. By faith in this blood the consecrated believer can receive the cleansing. The depraved nature is crucified, and Christ now takes supreme control of the holy temple. The language of the apostle in Gal. 6:14 also expresses the same experience: "But God forbid that I should glory, save in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ, by whom the world is crucified unto me, and I unto the world." The blood of the cross has destroyed that inward nature which was the point of contact with the world. As long as this exists within, the world has a strong claim upon us, which, so long as it exists within us, will assert its nature, and, if permitted, will communicate with the world, and cause defeat in our Christian life, so that we cannot conscientiously say we are dead to the world: for there is something within us yet that is actually alive in this respect. This is the point of inward contact with the world, which, when brought into crucifixion, changes our inward condition and enables us to truly say with the apostle, that the world is crucified unto us and we unto the world, by the blood of the cross of Christ, and the life we now live in this mortal body, which is the temple of the Holy Ghost, we live by the faith of the Son of God, who has all power to keep us in the divine law of the Spirit of life in Christ Jesus, which makes and keeps us free from the law of sin and death. In Matt. 15:13 we have this same doctrine of cleansing expressed in the words of Jesus: "Every plant, which my heavenly Father hath not planted, shall be rooted up." While it is true that Jesus was speaking of the doctrines of the Pharisees in this instance, we can see beyond the simple doctrines and traditions of men, which are but the outgrowth of this root of depravity which our heavenly Father never planted in the nature of man. The depraved heart is the fertile soil which spontaneously grows all these evil things which Jesus mentions in this parable. The root is there, and so long as it remains, there cannot be a satisfactory Christian life. But the heavenly decree has been uttered by the Redeemer himself, that this plant shall be rooted up, which rooting up can be testified to by thousands of blood-washed saints today. Many plain scriptures teach us that this experience of heart purity was a recognized fact in the apostolic days. Jesus taught that it was attainable and told of its blessings when in Matt. 5:8 he speaks of the pure in heart. John writes: "And every man that hath this hope in him purifieth himself, even as he is pure." Paul says that "the end of the commandment is charity out of a pure heart" (1 Tim. 1:5), and in the same letter he writes: "Holding the mystery of the faith in a pure conscience."--Chap. 3:9. Also in Chap. 4:12, he writes: "Let no man despise thy youth: but be thou an example of the believers, in word, in conversation, in charity, in spirit, in faith, in purity." In Chap. 5:22, he says, "Keep thyself pure." In 2 Tim. 2:22 we are taught that many of the saints had this experience of cleansing: "Flee also youthful lusts; but follow righteousness, faith, charity, peace, with them that call on the Lord out of a pure heart." The prophet Malachi saw the glorious fullness of this gospel salvation as he beheld and spake by the Spirit: "And he shall sit as a refiner and purifier of silver and he shall purify the sons of Levi, and purge them as gold and silver, that they may offer unto the Lord an offering in righteousness."--Mal. 3:3. All these plain texts set forth the doctrines of cleansing beyond question. Then when Peter takes the witness-stand (Acts 15:9) and testifies that he and all the one hundred twenty at Pentecost, and afterward the household of Cornelius, received the cleansing at the time of the outpouring upon them of the Holy Spirit, we must acknowledge that God certainly is no respecter of persons, and has the same measure of grace for his people in this evening time of the gospel day. Praise his holy name! Let us magnify and exalt the power of the all-cleansing blood, for it can reach beyond the inmost depths of our fallen nature and wash us whiter than snow. "For if the blood of bulls and of goats, and the ashes of a heifer, sprinkling the unclean, sanctifieth to the purifying of the flesh: how much more shall the blood of Christ, who through the eternal Spirit offered himself without spot to God, purge your conscience from dead works to serve the living God?"-- "Oh, now I see the cleansing wave, That fountain deep and wide; Jesus, my Lord, mighty to save, Points to his wounded side. "The cleansing stream, I see, I see, I plunge, and oh, it cleanseth me Oh, praise the Lord, it cleanseth me! It cleanseth me, yes, cleanseth me." CHAPTER VIII Christian Perfection Definition of =perfection=: Unblemished, blameless, pure. We are commanded to be perfect. "Be ye therefore perfect, even as your Father which is in heaven is perfect."--Matt. 5:48. "For we are glad, when we are weak, and ye are strong: and this also we wish, even your perfection. Finally, brethren, farewell. Be perfect, be of good comfort, be of one mind, live in peace; and the God of love and peace shall be with you."--2 Cor. 13:9, 11. "Therefore leaving the principles of the doctrine of Christ, let us go on unto perfection."--Heb. 6:1. We must be perfect in love. "Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy strength, and with all thy mind; and thy neighbor as thyself."--Luke 10:27. "And above all these things put on charity, which is the bond of perfectness."--Col. 3:14. "But whoso keepeth his word, in him verily is the love of God perfected: hereby know we that we are in him."--1 John 2:5. "If we love one another, God dwelleth in us, and his love is perfected in us.... Herein is our love made perfect, that we may have boldness in the day of judgment: because as he is, so are we in this world."--1 John 4:12, 17. Perfect in unity. "For both he that sanctifieth and they who are sanctified are all of one: for which cause he is not ashamed to call them brethren."--Heb. 2:11. "And for their sakes I sanctify myself, that they also might be sanctified through the truth. Neither pray I for these alone, but for them also which shall believe on me through their word: that they all may be one; as thou, Father, art in me, and I in thee, that they also may be one in us: that the world may believe that thou hast sent me. And the glory which thou gavest me I have given them; that they may be one, even as we are one: I in them, and thou in me, that they may be made perfect in one; and that the world may know that thou hast sent me, and hast loved them, as thou hast loved me."--John 17:19-23. Perfect in Christ. "Whom we preach, warning every man, and teaching every man in all wisdom; that we may present every man perfect in Christ Jesus." "And ye are complete in him, which is the head of all principality and power." "Epaphras, who is one of you, a servant of Christ, saluteth you, always laboring fervently for you in prayers, that ye may stand perfect and complete in all the will of God."--Col. 1:28; 2:10; 4:12. Perfect in purity. "Beloved, now are we the sons of God, and it doth not yet appear what we shall be: but we know that, when he shall appear, we shall be like him; for we shall see him as he is. And every man that hath this hope in him purifieth himself even as he is pure."--1 John 3:2, 3. "Having therefore these promises, dearly beloved, let us cleanse ourselves from all filthiness of the flesh and spirit, perfecting holiness in the fear of God."--2 Cor. 7:1. "And the Lord make you to increase and abound in love one toward another, and toward all men, even as we do toward you: to the end he may stablish your hearts unblameable in holiness before God, even our Father, at the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ with all his saints."--1 Thess. 3:12, 13. This perfection is attainable. "Till we all come in the unity of the faith, and of the knowledge of the Son of God, unto a perfect man, unto the measure of the stature of the fulness of Christ."--Eph. 4:13. "Let us therefore, as many as be perfect, be thus minded: and if in anything ye be otherwise minded, God shall reveal even this unto you."--Phil. 3:15. "For by one offering he hath perfected forever them that are sanctified."--Heb. 10:14. "For the law made nothing perfect, but the bringing in of a better hope did; by the which we draw nigh unto God."--Heb. 7:19. "Which was a figure for the time then present, in which were offered both gifts and sacrifices, that could not make him that did the service perfect, as pertaining to the conscience."--Heb. 9:9. A perfection not attainable in this life. "Not as though I had already attained, either were already perfect: but I follow after, if that I may apprehend that for which also I am apprehended of Christ Jesus." Christian perfection is not maturity in wisdom, grace, or knowledge. "Ye therefore, beloved, seeing ye know these things before, beware lest ye also, being led away with the error of the wicked, fall from your own steadfastness. But grow in grace, and in the knowledge of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ."--2 Pet. 3:17, 18. Christian perfection is looked upon by some as an impossibility in this life; but when we turn to the word of God and see the many plain texts upon the subject, it must become evident to every candid mind that it is in the plan of redemption that every child of God should attain to it. It would not be according to the nature of divine grace to require of us anything we could not do. No reasonable earthly parent would demand an impossibility of a child, and it is certain our heavenly Father would not command us to be "perfect even as he is perfect" unless he has provided abundant grace to bring us up to this blessed experience. According to our own power or ability we could never reach such an exalted plane, for it is not within the power of man to change his depraved nature, and every self-effort to reach a state of perfection is but vain. But God is able to make all grace abound and as an All-wise Father he has made it possible that we should be perfect. From the scriptures quoted we can plainly see that the perfection required of us is reasonable and just. Had he commanded us to be perfect in knowledge, wisdom, judgment, or in anything else in an absolute sense, we would be forced to the conclusion that God has either required an impossibility of us or it is not for us to attain in this life and therefore belongs only to the resurrected state. But we can clearly see the nature of his requirements and that they are all within the limits of his grace toward us in this life. When Jesus commanded us to be perfect (Matt. 5:48) we can quite easily comprehend his meaning when we notice in the few preceding verses that we should be perfect in love, even to the extent that we shall love our enemies, that we may indeed be the children of our Father which is in heaven. The children of this world love those that love them. It is an easy matter and quite natural to do this. But to love our enemies is very contrary to the depraved nature; unless there has been the cleansing wrought within, there will be some inward consciousness of hatred toward those who despitefully use and persecute us. The high standard of righteousness which Jesus teaches here and throughout this chapter is the standard of sanctification. The love of God must be perfected in us, which destroys every element of the old nature, of which hatred is a prominent characteristic. The first and great commandment, both of the old and new dispensation, "Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart," etc., is also a standard too high to be attained perfectly without the experience of entire sanctification. This commandment was given during the old dispensation; but it was not possible then that it could be kept perfectly, for there was no provision then made to destroy the power of, and cleanse the heart from, inbred depravity. The blood of those sacrifices could do no more than sanctify "to the purifying of the flesh." The inward condition of the heart could not be changed. Thus we see clearly that this commandment could not be kept in the New Testament sense of perfect love. Now, the blood of Jesus, which he shed on the cross that he might sanctify and cleanse our hearts, can make us holy. When the heart has realized the power of this cleansing and the love of God "shed abroad in our hearts by the Holy Ghost," we can in deed and in truth love the Lord our God with all our heart, soul, mind, and strength. Praise God for his wonderful love to us! He furnishes the love with which to love him. If we but give him our hearts he will furnish all the rest. He wants an empty, clean vessel into which to pour out his love, that it may be manifested in this dark and sinful world. Oh, that every child of God could see the imperative need of an absolute consecration and then cheerfully and voluntarily meet the conditions of the same, so that God could fill each heart with love, and cause each one to know what it means to love God with all our heart. As long as our affections are divided between God and anything else, our love is not perfect and until the regenerate heart has made the scriptural consecration, there will be a divided condition of the affections. The obedient regenerate heart dwells in God, and thus is taught of God the necessity of the perfect consecration, which, when fully complied with, enables the perfect cleansing to become effected. The apostle John says, "Herein is our love made perfect," and "his love is perfected in us." No one can ever be fully satisfied in this redemption life until this second work of grace is accomplished in the heart. Justification brings us into the blessed kingdom of God's love. Sanctification perfects his love in us. This second grace enables us to realize not only the meaning of perfect love, but we also comprehend the glorious fact that God has wrought in us perfect purity and holiness. This implies our being perfect in God's will, and because we have yielded our will completely to him. Every disposition of our will which sought its own way is now in perfect conformity with his and as Jesus could say in Gethsemane, "Thy will be done," which meant death on Calvary to him, so we have said the same to God with a vivid consciousness that once for all it meant death to us. It has required the perfect will of Jesus to obtain this grace of sanctification for us, and it now requires our perfect will to receive it from him. Here is where we can stand perfect and complete in all the will of God. Another beautiful characteristic of sanctification is perfect unity. One of the most striking features of the religious world today is division among those who profess to believe in and follow Christ. There is no greater evil existing than this. Men have made creeds and sects and have persuaded the people to join them, until the disgusting spectacle of division is seen everywhere, and the non-professing world is amazed at the sickening sight. Hireling preachers are pleading for their respective denominations, and while many honest children of God are dissatisfied with this sad state of affairs, they are taught from the pulpit that God has made these divisions and it is the duty of every Christian to join and support them. But such is not the will of God; he has designed that his people should all be one, and in his prayer Jesus expresses the extent of this unity. "That they all may be one; as thou, Father, art in me, and I in thee, that they also may be one in us." This certainly implies a wonderful and perfect unity. Many sect advocates cry, "Impossible, impossible; God's people cannot be one." But the whole theme of Jesus' prayer is unity. As we carefully read this prayer we can readily perceive the divine method to effect this unity. It is plain and simple: "Sanctify them through thy truth: thy word is truth.... Neither pray I for these alone, but for them also which shall believe on me through their word; that they all may be one." Then in Heb. 2:11 we see again that this is God's plan--"For both he that sanctifieth and they who are sanctified are all of one." This grace not only brings us into a perfect inward unity with Jesus himself, but it just as truly brings us all into a perfect inward unity with each other. Divisions, sects, and factions are productions of the flesh (Gal. 5:19-21) and not of the Spirit. Sanctification destroys all the works of the flesh and extracts the very root itself and renders divisions impossible. Every sect yoke is destroyed because of the anointing. Isa. 10:27. It is the work of the Holy Spirit to effect this unity in us with God and with each other. Every human effort to accomplish this must necessarily end in failure. There are many efforts today to effect a union among Christians, but union is not scriptural unity. Union of sects is far from the scriptural unity of believers. A union consists upon a human basis and may consist of a union of sects, or a union of individuals, without any conditions of spirituality whatever. Each individual or body retaining its distinctive and separate division. Scriptural unity is based upon the inner-wrought grace of sanctification, where everything non-spiritual is entirely destroyed and the Holy Spirit has the right of way in every respect according to the perfect will of God. It is only as we are thus perfected in this grace that the prayer of Jesus will be fully answered and his people lose every vestige of division. No sanctified heart can remain loyal to anything that separates the people of God. All sect holiness is below the Bible standard, for it upholds that which sanctification destroys. This is a far-reaching assertion, but in the light of God's word it is true. Many have lost this experience by listening to the perverted teachings of false shepherds and remaining in sectism. God says the "anointing" breaks and destroys the yoke, and no sect yoke will ever again fit on the neck of a sanctified person, if such remains loyal to the Holy Spirit. Praise God! He alone can effect perfect unity in us, by his divine process--sanctification. Then by the careful adherence to the teachings of God's word this beautiful apostolic unity can be maintained and demonstrated among men, and the prayer of Jesus further answered, "That the world may believe that thou hast sent me." =The difference between present and future perfection.= In his letter to the church at Philippi, the apostle speaks of a perfection in the future, which unless understood may confuse some minds upon this subject. In Phil. 3:12 he writes, "Not as though I had already attained, either were already perfect: but I follow after, if that I may apprehend that for which also I am apprehended of Christ Jesus." Here it sounds as though perfection is not attainable in this life, but if we notice the language of the context we can clearly see that he is speaking of the resurrection of the dead. Ver. 11. It is the resurrection perfection that he here has reference to, which cannot be attained in this life. We must wait with the apostle until this "mortality shall be swallowed up of life," before we reach a state of absolute perfection, and with him, "press toward the mark for the prize of the high calling of God in Christ Jesus." But in verse 15 he says, "Let us therefore as many as be perfect be thus minded," showing that there is a present perfection which he, with others, has already attained. This is the experience which it is the will of God for us all to enjoy. For by one offering he hath perfected forever them that are sanctified. Dear reader, have you attained it, or are you yet living beneath your blood-bought privilege? "Now the God of peace, that brought again from the dead our Lord Jesus, that great shepherd of the sheep, through the blood of the everlasting covenant, make you perfect in every good work to do his will, working in you that which is well-pleasing in his sight, through Jesus Christ; to whom be glory forever and ever. Amen."--Heb. 13:20, 21. CHAPTER IX Holiness =Holiness an attribute of God.= "Who is like unto thee, O Lord, among the gods? who is like thee, glorious in holiness, fearful in praises, doing wonders?"--Ex. 15:11. "And one cried unto another, and said, Holy, holy, holy, is the Lord of hosts: the whole earth is full of his glory."--Isa. 6:3. "And the four beasts had each of them six wings about him; and they were full of eyes within: and they rest not day and night, saying, Holy, holy, holy, Lord God Almighty, which was, and is, and is to come."--Rev. 4:8. =God must be worshiped in holiness.= "Give unto the Lord the glory due unto his name: bring an offering and come before him: worship the Lord in the beauty of holiness."--1 Chron. 16:29. "Sing unto the Lord, O ye saints of his, and give thanks at the remembrance of his holiness."--Psa. 30:4. =God's throne and dwelling-place.= "God reigneth over the heathen: God sitteth upon the throne of his holiness."--Psa. 47:8. "For thus saith the high and lofty One that inhabiteth eternity, whose name is Holy; I dwell in the high and holy place, with him also that is of a contrite and humble spirit."--Isa. 57:15. "Be silent, O all flesh, before the Lord: for he is raised up out of his holy habitation."--Zech. 2:13. "Look down from heaven, and behold from the habitation of thy holiness and thy glory."--Isa. 63:15. =Holiness becomes God's house.= "Thy testimonies are very sure: holiness becometh thine house, O Lord, forever."--Psa. 93:5. "The aged women likewise, that they be in behavior as becometh holiness."--Titus 2:3. =The church of God is called a mountain of holiness.= "The Lord bless thee, O habitation of justice, and mountain of holiness."--Jer. 31:23. "Thus saith the Lord; I am returned unto Zion, and will dwell in the midst of Jerusalem: and Jerusalem shall be called a city of truth; and the mountain of the Lord of hosts the holy mountain."--Zech. 8:3. "The wolf and the lamb shall feed together, and the lion shall eat straw like the bullock: and the dust shall be the serpent's meat. They shall not hurt nor destroy in all my holy mountain saith the Lord."--Isa. 65:25. =God speaks in holiness.= "God hath spoken in his holiness; I will rejoice."--Psa. 60:6. "Mine heart within me is broken because of the prophets; all my bones shake; I am like a drunken man, and like a man whom wine hath overcome, because of the Lord, and because of the words of his holiness."--Jer. 23:9. =The way of holiness.= "And an highway shall be there, and a way, and it shall be called The way of holiness; the unclean shall not pass over it; but it shall be for those; the wayfaring men, though fools, shall not err therein. No lion shall be there, nor any ravenous beast shall go up thereon, it shall not be found there; but the redeemed shall walk there and the ransomed of the Lord shall return, and come to Zion with songs and everlasting joy upon their heads: they shall obtain joy and gladness, and sorrow and sighing shall flee away."--Isa. 35:8-10. =The courts of holiness.= "But they that have gathered it shall eat it, and praise the Lord; and they that have brought it together shall drink it in the courts of my holiness."--Isa. 62:9. =The people of God are holy.= "The people of thy holiness have possessed but a little while: our adversaries have trodden down thy sanctuary."--Isa. 63:18. "And they shall call them, The holy people, The redeemed of the Lord: and thou shalt be called, Sought out, A city not forsaken."--Isa. 62:12. "And the Lord hath avouched thee this day to be his peculiar people, as he hath promised thee, and that thou shouldest keep all his commandments; and to make thee high above all nations which he hath made, in praise, and in name, and in honor; and that thou mayest be an holy people unto the Lord thy God, as he hath spoken."--Deut. 26:18, 19. "But ye are a chosen generation, a royal priesthood, an holy nation, a peculiar people; that ye should show forth the praises of him who hath called you out of darkness into his marvelous light."--1 Pet. 2:9. =We are called unto holiness.= "Follow peace with all men, and holiness, without which no man shall see the Lord."--Heb. 12:14. "But as he which hath called you is holy, so be ye holy in all manner of conversation; because it is written, Be ye holy, for I am holy."--1 Pet. 1:15, 16. "For God hath not called us unto uncleanness, but unto holiness."--1 Thess. 4:7. "That he would grant unto us, that we being delivered out of the hand of our enemies might serve him without fear, in holiness and righteousness before him, all the days of our life."--Luke 1:74, 75. "For they verily for a few days chastened us after their own pleasure; but he for our profit, that we might be partakers of his holiness."--Heb. 12:10. =A perfect holiness attainable.= "Having therefore these promises, dearly beloved, let us cleanse ourselves from all filthiness of the flesh and spirit, perfecting holiness in the fear of God."--2 Cor. 7:1. =Fruit unto holiness.= "But now being made free from sin, and become servants to God, ye have your fruit unto holiness, and the end everlasting life."--Rom. 6:22. The foregoing scriptures are but a few out of the many plain texts from the word of God teaching us the glorious doctrine of holiness. Some professing Christians look upon this doctrine as unscriptural and impracticable, but in the light of the gospel of Christ there is no other doctrine taught than holiness. The very fact that God, and Jesus Christ, and the Holy Spirit, the word of God, and heaven, and all the celestial hosts are holy, at once suggests to every reasonable mind the utter necessity of holiness in the heart and life of man. The apostle says (Eph. 2:10) that "we are his workmanship, created in Jesus Christ unto good works." Were we to look upon depraved humanity in the image of Adam, we would see nothing but sin and unholiness; but God has brought into existence a new order of creation in Christ Jesus. The first Adam is a sad and irreparable failure, and in him we see nothing good. All who are living according to the flesh are dead in trespasses and sins, and of course are unholy; but the second Adam, which is Christ has brought redemption and life, in whom there is purity and holiness. The old man is corrupt according to the deceitful lusts, which =must be put off=. The new man is created in righteousness and true holiness, which =must be put on=. The reason some do not comprehend the doctrine of holiness is, they are yet living in the old creation, hence their nature and mind are corrupt. It is utterly impossible for such to be holy in this condition. The command, "Be ye holy," does not apply to them. They are not God's people. The first step for such to take is to repent, which if they obey they will be brought into the kingdom of God's holiness; into the new creation, the workmanship of God in Christ Jesus. Bless the Lord, O my soul, for this new creation of purity and holiness. All the living creatures of heaven bow before him that sitteth upon the throne, saying, Holy, holy, holy! and every sanctified heart on earth can join the blessed anthem of praise and adoration with the consciousness that the all-cleansing blood of Christ has reached its inmost depth and purified it for the habitation of the heavenly guest, the Holy Spirit. The pure heart is God's dwelling-place on earth. Jesus says (John 14:23) "If a man love me, he will keep my words and my Father will love him, and we will come unto him, and make our abode with him." * * * * * Thus we see that God not only dwells in the high and holy heaven, but also upon earth in the hearts of his obedient people. Who could consistently believe that God would dwell in a corrupt heart? "He shall be in you," is the promise of Jesus. "At that day [the day when the Holy Spirit comes into the heart], ye shall know that I am in my Father, and ye in me, and I in you." Oh, the depths of the riches of this wonderful redemption, that God would forgive the guilty sinner, then purify his heart and make it his earthly abode. This is his will toward every son and daughter of Adam's race. He will create us in the image of Christ, so that we may truly serve him without fear, in holiness and righteousness before him all the days of our life. This can be called none other than the way of holiness. It is God's own way, and is truly a highway too high for anything unclean to pass over. It is on a perfect level with heaven itself, and yet it is a highway here upon earth for all the ransomed of the Lord to travel upon. It is so plain and simple that no one need be led astray. The wayfaring men though fools, shall not err therein. A wayfaring man means one who is on the way, one who lives on the way. A seafaring man is one who lives on the sea. This way is so safe that though a man may be simple in the estimation of the world, and may be called a fool, yet if he keeps obedient to God he shall not be led astray. "No lion shall be there, nor any ravenous beast shall go up thereon." This indicates a very safe way, where we need not fear any evil. Everything of the flesh or the old man is ruled out, and none but the redeemed shall walk there. We see therefore from the description of the prophet that this is a highway, a clean way, a simple way, a safe way, a way of songs and everlasting joy, which necessarily constitutes a way of holiness. This is the way upon which the people of God are truly returning to Zion. This Zion is the scriptural name of the church of God. The people of God have been led into captivity of ecclesiastical bondage (Babylon), and the pure light of the gospel of holiness has been darkened by the creeds and doctrines of men, but God is revealing to his own that sanctification is a Bible doctrine; they seek for, and obtain it, and thereby every sectarian yoke is broken, his people find themselves upon this highway of holiness and at home in Zion, the church, free from the bondage of sectism. This is the work of God himself, and will not cease until every one of his people are brought home to Zion, upon the way of holiness. This is the highway that is left for the remnant of his people. Isa. 11:16. This remnant shall be gathered out of all the creeds of men into the one fold, into the true unity of Christ. "For both he that sanctifieth and they who are sanctified are all of one." The prophet foresaw this blessed return of the people of God and tells us "they shall call them, The holy people." There are some who call themselves holiness people, but the prophet says we shall be called, "The holy people." Holiness factions and sects have actually sprung into existence, which declare that sectism and division is necessary. This class of holiness is not that described in the foregoing scriptures. Bible holiness will in every individual instance destroy everything out of men's hearts that separates or divides. Divisions are the outgrowth of carnality and not of the Spirit of God. Every profession of holiness, therefore, which sanctions division and sectism cannot possibly be the holiness of the Bible. This may seem to some a strong assertion, but it will stand the test of the word of God. No scriptural unity will ever be effected among the people of God outside the experience of sanctification. Men have repeatedly laid other foundations, but all to no avail. It is a source of great satisfaction to know that wherever the Holy Spirit has the right of way in the hearts of men, there is found true apostolic unity, both in spirit and in doctrine. This is a well authenticated fact which is demonstrated in thousands of hearts today. The holy people are one people, and all are willing to be measured by all of the word of God, which proves to the "profitable for doctrine, for reproof, for correction, for instruction in righteousness. That the man of God may be perfect, thoroughly furnished unto all good works." The apostle teaches us, in Heb. 12:10, that God imparts unto us his holiness: we are partakers of it. It is not an experience which we by our efforts can attain to, but upon the clearly defined conditions of his word we come into possession of his holiness. It is all wrought within us by himself. "Not by works of righteousness which we have done, but according to his mercy he saved us, by the washing of regeneration, and renewing of the Holy Ghost." Bible holiness is truly an imported article directly from God out of heaven. Some imported goods in this country are much more expensive and of better quality than those of home manufacture. Many of our people prefer to pay the extra expense in order to obtain the better quality, and usually are abundantly satisfied with their purchase. This may serve to illustrate this blessed holiness of the Bible. Men's professions are sometimes like an inferior homemade piece of goods. It soon wears threadbare and betrays its quality, but the genuine imported article of Bible holiness proves satisfactory in every respect, and the more it is worn the better it becomes. It has cost us everything, but it proves to be worth more than everything to us. The reason why some people have failed to get it is, they are unwilling to pay the price. They are deceived by the false doctrine that they do not need to consecrate their all, and hence have accepted a holiness manufactured by man, a homemade article which will never stand the test. A definite, absolute consecration to the loss of all things will never fail to procure the genuine article of true Bible holiness, which will stand the wear of every trial of life and the test of the judgment. CHAPTER X The Vine and the Branches "I am the true vine, and my Father is the husbandman. Every branch in me that beareth not fruit he taketh away; and every branch that beareth fruit, he purgeth it, that it may bring forth more fruit. Now ye are clean through the word which I have spoken unto you. Abide in me, and I in you. As the branch cannot bear fruit of itself, except it abide in the vine; no more can ye, except ye abide in me. I am the vine, ye are the branches: he that abideth in me, and I in him, the same bringeth forth much fruit: for without me ye can do nothing. If a man abide not in me, he is cast forth as a branch, and is withered; and men gather them, and cast them into the fire, and they are burned. If ye abide in me, and my words abide in you, ye shall ask what ye will, and it shall be done unto you. Herein is my Father glorified, that ye bear much fruit; so shall ye be my disciples."--John 15:1-8. * * * * * This beautiful analogy teaches us an important lesson. The standard of sanctification is clearly exemplified in the relation between the vine and the branches. Christ is the vine, and every individual Christian is an individual branch; every branch is an individual member of the vine, and every Christian is an individual member of Christ. * * * * * What a clear view of the church, and how plainly we can see that there is but one. Every regenerate soul is by one Spirit baptized into this one body. This vine is cared for and kept by God himself, who is the husbandman. Every branch must be a living, fruit-bearing one. It is placed into the vine by the hand which will care for it, and give it every necessary treatment to cause it to bring forth much fruit. If it bears fruit it will be kept in the vine; if it does not bear fruit it will be taken away. The same life which flows through the vine also flows into the branches. It is the branches that bear the fruit. It is the part of the vine to sustain the branches, and the part of the branches to bear fruit. The fruit is the production of the vine-life in the branches. The word of God teaches us that Christ is pure and holy, and in Rom. 11:16 we are taught that if the root be holy, so are the branches. The manner of the induction of the branches into the vine is illustrated by the process of grafting. We are not grown into Christ, but grafted into him. The natural branches of a vine grow out of the vine, and accordingly bear the vine-fruit, but by grace we are grafted into Christ, the vine, and bear the vine-fruit. A certain writer who advocates the repression theory of sanctification says: "But if I want a tree wholly made good I take it when young and, cutting the stem off on the ground, I graft just where it emerges from the soil; I watch over every bud which the old nature could possibly put forth until the flow of sap from the old roots into the new stem is so complete that the old life has, as it were, been entirely conquered and covered of the new. Now I have a tree entirely renewed--emblem of a Christian who has learned in entire consecration to surrender everything for Christ, and in a whole-hearted faith wholly to abide in him. If in this case the old tree were a reasonable being that could co-operate with the gardener, what would the gardener's language be to it? Would it not be this: 'Yield now thyself entirely to this new nature with which I have invested thee; repress every tendency of the old nature to give buds or sprouts; let all thy sap and all thy life-powers rise up into this graft from yonder beautiful tree which I have put on thee, so shalt thou bring forth sweet and much fruit.' And the language of the tree to the gardener would be: 'When thou graftest me, oh, spare not a single branch, let everything of the old self, even the smallest bud, be destroyed, that I may no longer live in my own, but in that other life that was cut off and brought and put upon me that I might be wholly new and good.' And once again, could you afterwards ask the renewed tree, as it was bearing abundant fruit, what it could say of itself, its answer would be this: 'In me (that is, my roots) there dwelleth no good thing; I am ever inclined to evil; the sap I collect from the soil is in its nature corrupt, and ready to show itself in bearing evil fruit. But just where the sap rises into the sunshine to ripen into fruit, the wise gardener hath clothed me with a new life through which my sap is purified and all my powers are renewed to the bringing forth of good fruit.'" This author has entirely reversed the scriptural order of grafting in his application of the graft and root, and has illustrated the relation of Christ and the believer by the natural grafting process which can in no sense scripturally apply to this holy relation. Christ is the vine or root, and not the graft. The natural process of grafting is to graft the good graft into a poor root. The graft will grow into a tree and bear the same kind of fruit as the tree from which it was taken, and thus the gardener increases the production of good fruit. But the divine process of grafting is just the reverse. In Rom. 11:24 the apostle says we are grafted into the olive tree (Christ) "contrary to nature." The husbandman takes the penitent sinner out of the kingdom of darkness and translates him into the kingdom of his dear Son. In this regeneration process the sinner (the graft) that was sinful and bore fruit is by God's own process grafted into Christ, the holy vine, and from thence to bear holy fruit. This is certainly a great mystery, like all the works of God's grace, and is indeed contrary to nature, but in perfect conformity with the plan of redemption. Now, in this condition, there is a certain requirement of the graft necessary that it may bear the vine-fruit; it must =abide= in the vine. This abiding requires a careful watchfulness lest there might be some sprout of the old inward nature, which yet exists within the newly grafted branch, which would spring up and hinder the perfect fruit-bearing of the vine-life. And in this early life, in this new relation of the branch with the vine, it is an attested fact that in quantity this fruit production is more or less hindered by the presence of the old inward nature, in the branch, which if permitted to sprout and grow would certainly prevent the growth of the vine-fruit entirely, and thereby cause the branch to be cut off. That the branch is in the vine there can be no question, for its environments are completely changed and it finds itself a stranger to all of its former associations, customs, and habits. That the vine-life is in the branch there can equally be no question, for the branch has the inward consciousness bearing witness that it belongs to the vine, and it enjoys the sweet fellowship of the vine and all its branches. Also it bears the vine-fruit which brings upon itself the approval of the husbandman. But this early and new relationship is only the justified life of the branch. The standard of sanctification of the author from whom we have just quoted is in no respect any higher than this, and were it not that there is a higher standard taught in this lesson and in many other scriptures, we would have to be satisfied with justification only. "Every branch that beareth fruit, he purgeth it, that it may bring forth more fruit." This purging is another process quite contrary to nature, for the term signifies an inward cleansing. A vine-dresser can prune or trim a branch and thereby practically make it clean outwardly from all unnecessary or harmful sprouts which would hinder it from bearing fruit, but there is no known natural process by which the grafted branch could have its inward conditions changed which would affect its nature. We can see clearly that the entire process of grafting the inferior branch into the good root, and the subsequent purging is wholly contrary to nature, for no man with an object of profit would do any such grafting, neither could anyone reasonably expect the inward conditions of such a graft to become changed. This purging is wrought within for the purpose of an increase of holy fruit. How beautifully it pictures the experience of sanctification, and subsequent work wrought in the soul of the justified fruit-bearing child of God. It is not a pruning of any unholy sprouts, for they are to be wholly kept from sprouting in the process of the life of bearing holy fruit in this justified relation. The branch is now bearing the very fruit of the holy root, but there is something to be done in it that it may bring forth more fruit; it must be purged from its inward depraved dispositions which it possessed from its parent stock--its "old man ... that the body of sin might be destroyed." Before the purging there was much time and energy occupied in keeping its depraved nature from sprouting. The holy nature of the root was indeed being manifested in the production of holy fruit which was a source of satisfaction, but there was that inward consciousness of an unfavorable condition which hindered the root-life from producing in the branch the quantity necessary to the perfect satisfaction of the husbandman, the vine or the branch. But now what a glorious change: the old nature is entirely gone, and the sweet soul-rest which the purged branch now enjoys is beyond the power of mortal to express; it can now repose itself so sweetly in the holy vine in its perfectly consecrated life, without any inward hindrance to a perfect flow of the vine-life through its entire being. It can now bring forth more fruit, for every energy from the root is sent direct into the fruit-buds of the branch, and the result is glorious. This purging is just what perfects the inward harmony of the branch with the vine. It could not continue very long in the abiding condition without a consciousness of the need of the purging process. This process becomes a necessity to every branch which abides. "He that abideth in me, and I in him, the same bringeth forth much fruit," which is equivalent to the text, "Every branch that beareth fruit, he purgeth it, that it may bring forth more fruit." It is purged that it may bring forth "more fruit," and now the object of purging is realized, it brings forth "much fruit." Thank God for the purging, the subsequent work in the heart! The apostles had not yet received this experience. They were clean through the word which Jesus had spoken unto them, to the extent of their knowledge and experience. Unquestionably they were clean from guilt and condemnation, for they were taken out from the world--were no more of it, and the world hated them. They were living in perfect obedience to all the known word of God and were clean through that word, but they had not had the pentecostal purging, "purifying their hearts by faith," as Peter himself testifies of the sanctification of himself and all who were at Pentecost, as well as the experience of Cornelius and his household. Truly we have much reason to praise God for his wonderful grace in which he brings man, his fallen creature, into such a position that he may become a son of God, then made pure from all the depraved dispositions of his fallen nature. "If a man therefore purge himself from these, he shall be a vessel unto honor, sanctified, and meet for the Master's use, and prepared unto every good work."--2 Timothy 2:21. CHAPTER XI Some Helpful Thoughts on Consecration The experience of sanctification is obtained upon the conditions of definite consecration and faith. In every consecration the soul reaches a point where it must either go through to the death, or else go back and lose the grace of God entirely. The Holy Spirit will make it plain what this death implies, and at last the dying soul goes through its last struggle and yields up its last treasure. When this point is reached and passed, the Holy Spirit will bear witness that the demands of God are now fully met. When Moses had completed the work of building the tabernacle and had placed everything in its proper order, as God commanded him, it is said that "Moses finished the work." So it can be said of us and so each of us can personally testify by the witness of the Spirit bearing witness with our spirit in this absolute and definite consecration, that we have "finished the work." Every doubt as to the completion of this consecration is banished, and has no room to exist in our hearts, for we know that it is complete. We can so sweetly and willingly say, "Thy will be done," with a most delightful consciousness that all the past, present, and future, of all that pertains to our life, is yielded up to his blessed will. Nothing on earth is held half so sweet and precious as his will. We can realize down deep in our souls what Jesus meant when he gave himself to sanctify us and said, "I come to do thy will." We can enter into the fellowship of his sufferings and death, for all that we have and are, and all that we expect to be in the future, and all that we know and ever expect to know, are now forever and eternally yielded up to that precious will of God. It required the will of Jesus to be yielded up to death to do the will of the Father that we might be sanctified, and it equally requires our will to be yielded up to death and the loss of all things, that we might be sanctified. It required his will even to the death to obtain it for us, and it requires our will even to death to receive it from him. Yes, dear reader, a real death; so real that it includes everything, and it can only be said of us as it was said of the Colossian saints, "Ye are dead, and your life is hid with Christ in God." This death consecration is beautifully typified in the consecration and sanctification of the priests of the Old Testament dispensation. In Lev. 8 we read that Moses was commanded of the Lord to take Aaron and his sons and three animals with him. The blood of one of these animals was to be shed for the sin-offering; one for the "burnt offering," and one for the "consecration" offering. The blood of each was shed and applied separately for a special purpose. Each finds its antitype in the precious blood of Jesus, who offered himself without spot to God that he might sanctify the church. The blood of the sin-offering provides for that part of our nature which would naturally reach out and cling to those things which are sinful. In every justified heart which is not yet wholly sanctified there exists such a principle which in itself is depraved and sinful, and were it permitted to respond to the sinful things without, it would bring the believers into transgression. This is the "body of sin," or "our old man," which according to the law of the Spirit of life in Christ Jesus, must be destroyed and cleansed out. This existing in the heart, if unrestrained, is the fruitful soil out of which grows every evil work. We can see its productions in many different aspects in the religious world today. Every sect on earth is a production of this body of sin. Every manifestation of carnal division is some of its evil fruits. Everything that is in the least degree contrary to the pure word of God, whether it be word or deed, is but the outgrowth of this evil thing, which was created and planted into the hearts of Adam and Eve by the devil, and has become the dominating characteristic of depraved humanity. Justification does not cleanse this out of the heart. It only takes away the guilt and trespasses of the sinner, and brings him into the favor of God, who gave his Son a "trespass-offering" for the world. But Jesus gave himself a "sin-offering" for the church, and when the heart has yielded up to the death for the destruction of this depravity it can truly be said of such an one that we are dead to sin, for the blood of Jesus in this sin-offering will most certainly effect this cleansing. But a true Bible consecration includes something more than a yielding up of the heart for the cleansing out of this sin principle. In the type, we see there was another animal sacrificed in this consecration service. It was the one for the "burnt offering." The blood of this sacrifice corresponds with the sacrifice of the blood of Jesus which also provides for the cleansing of that part of our nature that clings to the things of life which in themselves are not sinful but are God-given blessings. Our unsanctified affections must also become purified from every taint of depravity. That this may be accomplished, it becomes necessary that the heart yield up to the death every cherished object, even though it be a God-given blessing; it must be yielded up and laid upon the altar as a "burnt offering." The affections cannot be purified until the object of the affections is yielded. We cannot perfectly obey the first and great commandment, "Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy mind, and with all thy strength," until every affection is fully taken off from every object of earth and placed upon God exclusively. This means that we willingly lay upon the altar our loved ones, no matter how sacred or precious they may be--father, mother, brother, sister, husband, wife, children, home, property, reputation, and everything within the scope of our earthly existence. All henceforth and forever yielded up to God, no more to be ours, as really and as perfectly as though we were breathing our last upon our death-bed, and then in due time we were laid into our coffin, the lid fastened down, and lowered into the grave, the grave filled up and nothing left but a mound to mark where our earthly remains lie. Or, to view the subject from another standpoint, this yielding up must be as real as though our loved ones and every cherished treasure of earth were laid upon the altar, to be offered up a burnt sacrifice. In due time the fire will be kindled, and our cherished objects will one by one be consumed into smoke and finally all will disappear, a consumed sacrifice unto the Lord. A quarter of a century ago my own precious mother was brought to this consecration. She was shown by the Holy Spirit that she did not have her children perfectly yielded up to the Lord. She was praying for their conversion. At last she became willing to lay them upon the altar and she did it thoroughly. She gave them to the Lord a living sacrifice. In a short time her four oldest were converted, and in due time the two others as they grew up were also brought into the fold of Christ. She rejoiced and praised God for this and often expressed herself that her children were not her own, they were the Lord's, for his service or sacrifice, just as he should see proper. At last this consecration was brought to the test. The Lord began to kindle the fire to consume the "burnt offering." He laid his hand upon one and took her home to heaven. Then another, and sent him thousands of miles away to preach the gospel in regions beyond. Then another, and sent him far distant in another direction to labor in the gospel vineyard. Then another, and sent her still another direction to publish the word of God; and as these cherished objects thus vanished out of her sight she could say, "They are the Lord's, not mine." In one of her letters she wrote me these words: "Well, my dear boy, I truly realized what it meant years ago to lay my dear children upon the altar of the Lord: but now I realize what it means to see them consumed into smoke." Dear brother and sister, this is what a burnt offering means, and how good our heavenly Father is to require this sacrifice of us! Oh, how many sad heartaches it saves us! How many bitter tears of anguish and sorrow! I have stood at the open grave where a poor grief-stricken mother wrung her hands and cried out, "Oh, I cannot, I cannot give up my precious darling. Let me be buried with it--I cannot be parted from it!" I have also stood at another grave, where the form of a consecrated loved one was sinking out of human sight. The mother stood gazing at the object of earth as it was laid back to dust, then with her eyes turned toward heaven she said, "Dear Lord, thou hast only taken thine own to thyself; my heart feels the parting pangs, but I say willingly, 'Thy will be done.'" Ah, what a contrast! The one mother knew nothing of this blessed consecration, the other did. The one had but little grace to sustain her in her bereavement, the other had the abounding grace, for she had already yielded up her sacred treasures to the Lord. The one buried all her comfort and hope in the grave, the other simply buried a lifeless form of clay; though sacred and precious to her heart, yet she had consecrated it to the Lord, and now in seeing it vanish out of her sight, she could feel that it was not her own. The one returned to her empty home with her heart full of sorrow, the other returned in the comfort of Him who comforteth us in all our tribulations. She had paid the price of =her all=, and now she enjoys the blessing of =Jesus' all=--the abiding of his glorious presence, which comforts her heart and home, and fills the emptiness with himself and his bountiful grace. Oh, how beautiful and reasonable to consecrate everything that our affections have held sacred and dear, to him. We all know very well that all these treasures of earth are of no enduring substance. No matter how much they may be to us, they in due time will either vanish out of our sight, or else we will have to leave them. How much better, and how much more satisfactory it is to yield them all up to Jesus, to whom they rightly belong, and who has only loaned them to us in the first place. He is justly entitled to all of our affections, for what has he not yielded up that was due to himself, that he might purchase this glorious grace for us? Now he wants the supremacy in our hearts' affections, so that he can fashion us according to himself through and through, and impart his own nature into our affections, that we may henceforth love with his love, those sacred treasures around which our affections have so entwined, and claimed as ours. Before our consecration we loved him, but these other objects of our love were between us and him. They hindered our love towards him, and equally hindered his love from perfectly flowing into our hearts. We loved him, and realized that he loved us, but it was not perfect; there were objects in our way, and there were objects in his way. These objects were our sacred treasures. Depravity had affected our affections so that we could not hold these treasures as we should. But now what a satisfactory change! We yielded all these objects to him, and took him in their stead. Now he occupies the place. He owns our treasures, and we own him. But what of our treasures? We have them all back again, through him. Before our consecration, they were between us and him. Now he is between us and them, and with him he freely gives us all things. He can use all of these things according to his own good pleasure, making any disposition of them which might seem good in his sight, for they are his, not ours. If he should place us over them as his stewards, then we hold them in trust for him and do with them just as he orders, and when, one by one, they consume away on the altar of his service, or, if according to his sovereign will, he shall remove them out of our sight, we can say, "Amen, Lord, thy will be done." Now, in the act of Bible consecration, the believer may not realize all of this, and the utmost depth of the cleansing that has been wrought in the heart and affections, or the difference between the sin-offering and the burnt offering, but it will not be long afterward, until the knowledge of this cleansing shall begin to dawn upon us and our soul becomes more and more enraptured in this glorious experience of sanctification. But we see in the type still another animal to be slain--the consecration offering. The blood of this animal was applied to the body of Aaron and his sons. First it was put upon the tips of their right ears, the thumbs of their right hands, and the great toes of their right feet. Then afterwards it was sprinkled with the anointing oil upon Aaron and his garments too, and upon his sons and their garments. This ceremonial process was the completion of their sanctification. The blood of this consecration offering corresponds with the blood of Jesus which provides for the sanctification of our body. In this consecration we not only offer up our hearts and affections to Jesus, but we also present our bodies a living sacrifice. This includes our all, spirit, soul and body. Our ears, hands, and feet, our entire physical being, is dedicated henceforth to his service, to labor and suffer hardships, to be used in sacrifice, or service, either at the martyrs' stake or on the gospel altar, any way, and every way, in which he may order it for his own honor and glory. These eyes shall see, this tongue shall speak, this mind shall think, these ears shall hear, these hands shall labor, these feet shall run, this strength and these energies, this heart shall beat, every faculty, organ, and appetite shall be used only for him, who has so freely given himself for us; and thus this body becomes the temple, and the earthly dwelling-place of the Holy Ghost, his own exclusive dedicated property. While it is not possible that we could itemize these things in the consecration of our bodies, there is a yielding up of our all which sweeps the scope and brings the witness of the Spirit that our consecration is complete and we have "finished the work." We are now upon believing grounds, and faith can appropriate the power of the all-cleansing blood. "By faith I venture on his word, My doubts are o'er, the vict'ry won, He said the altar sanctifies, I just believe him and 'tis done." CHAPTER XII Questions and Answers Question. How may we know definitely that we are sanctified? Answer. We may know it by knowing that we have met all the conditions. This grace is obtained upon the conditions of consecration and faith. When we are sure that we have measured up to a true Bible consecration, we will have no difficulty in knowing that we are sanctified. The depth of meaning of this consecration does not necessarily need to be fully comprehended by the seeker, as we enter into this covenant, but there is a yielding up of ourself and entire all, to the known and unknown will of God, to an extent that covers everything. God knows when we have reached and passed this point, and it will not be long before the Holy Spirit will definitely witness to us that the consecration is complete, and the covenant ratified by this glorious indwelling consciousness. This consecration may be illustrated by the contract and union of holy matrimony. When the bride and groom enter into the covenant according to God's word, they have little knowledge of the obligations they are taking upon themselves. They know nothing of the detailed realities of life; its joys and sorrows, hardships and trials that are before them; but they know that they dearly love each other, and have not the slightest fear in yielding themselves to each other completely and exclusively, so long as they both shall live. They enter into this covenant with all good confidence that the object of their love will not require anything hard or impossible, and as the future realities of life unfold and one by one they meet the many responsibilities that the covenant implies, they find that their love is equal to the responsibility, and as long as they continue to love each other they will never have the slightest disposition to break that marriage covenant. So the heart which makes the consecration for sanctification will not comprehend the great scope of its meaning at the time of entering into this covenant, but if we love Jesus as we should we will not fear what he may require of us in the details of his will in the future. We are already enraptured with his love. He has proved himself to be a loving and faithful Redeemer in dying for us, and now as we see he requires us to yield ourselves even to death for him, we can confidently enter into the conditions of this covenant with the assurance that he will demand nothing of us beyond the power of the love to fulfill. Yes, we will know definitely when our consecration is complete, and then we will have no trouble to believe in the promises for the cleansing. As Bible repentance is the believing ground for justification, so Bible consecration is the believing ground for sanctification. Ques. How may we keep sanctified? Ans. By abiding in the conditions by which we obtained the experience. As long as our consecration remains intact, and our faith remains firm in the promises, we are sanctified, no matter what the assertions of our feelings may be. To cease believing will forfeit our experience. To cease obeying in any respect will produce the same effect; but "if we walk in the light as he is in the light, we have fellowship one with another; and the blood of Jesus Christ his Son cleanseth us from all sin." Ques. If Jesus was not sanctified until his death, how can we be? Ans. Jesus was sanctified before his death. He testifies to it in John 10:36. There is a sense in which he was sanctified by his death; that is, he became a perfect redeemer by his death. He set himself apart for this specific purpose. This is the meaning of the saying of Jesus in John 17:19--"And for their sakes I sanctify myself, that they also might be sanctified through the truth." Another scripture, Heb. 5:9 has the same meaning. "And being made perfect, he became the author of eternal salvation unto all them that obey him." In the use of the terms "sanctify" and "perfect" we could by no means infer that Jesus was not pure and holy before his suffering on the cross. He became a perfect Saviour by his death and through suffering. It is absurd and casts a reflection upon the redemption plan, to say that Jesus was not holy until resurrection. In this sense only was he made "perfect" by his death. As to his people being holy and sanctified in this life, we have the whole word of God in favor of such a life. Thank God, it is his will that we should live "in holiness and righteousness before him all the days of our life." It does require a death on our part to obtain this glorious grace. In this respect we must die to get it. Jesus died to purchase it for us. We must die to receive it--not a literal death, but a death to sin and the world. The river of Jordan truly signifies a death, but we can cross over it and remain in this mortal life. The land of Canaan is the land of holiness, which all of God's people can enter into and possess in this life. Ques. Does not the Bible say, "If we say that we have no sin we deceive ourselves and the truth is not in us"? Ans. Yes, but this does not teach us that we cannot be free from sin. If we were to take this verse by itself without its context we might have a scripture contradictory to the word of God, but if we read the seventh and ninth verses with the eighth verse of 1 John 1, we see plainly by these three verses connected that we can be cleansed from all sin and unrighteousness. This verse implies that if any one who has not been cleansed from sin should say he has no sin to be cleansed from, he deceives himself. Ques. Do we not grow into sanctification and therefore reach it gradually? Ans. No; this would be contrary to the plan of redemption. We do not grow =into= any of the graces. We are commanded to grow IN grace. The grace of pardon and justification is imparted by the Holy Spirit. We can grow in this grace and in the knowledge of our Lord and Saviour which, if we do, will soon bring us to the knowledge of our need of purity and sanctification, and we will see that this is a grace which is intended for us. We gladly comply with the conditions for the same, and enter into it by faith. God now performs the work in our hearts by the power of his Holy Spirit. We cannot do it ourselves, only in the sense that we meet the required conditions. It is impossible for us to grow into purity. This is beyond our individual power; it requires the power of God. We purify ourselves by making the separation of everything outwardly; God then purifies our hearts by an instantaneous work of grace. This grace by no means implies a maturity in growth. It only brings us into a position where we can the more rapidly grow up in spiritual things. Ques. Why do we not get it all when we are justified? Ans. Because the conditions for the two graces are not the same. The penitent sinner cannot, in his sinful condition, meet the requirements for sanctification, and God does not mean that he should. All that the sinner can possibly do is to repent. When he has fully repented, then he can believe on the Lord Jesus Christ and receive his pardon. This is justification. He is justified from all his sins through true repentance and faith. Those are the Scriptural conditions for justification, but the conditions for sanctification are consecration and faith. Repentance and consecration are vastly different. The first means to give up all sinful things, with a godly sorrow for all sins committed, and a solemn determination that by the grace of God all sinning shall forever cease. The second means to yield up to God all our good things, every sacred treasure of our heart and affections, with our body and every ransomed power, as a living sacrifice. The first is God's requirement of every sinner. The second is his requirement of every justified believer. The first is all that the guilty sinner can possibly comprehend. The second is that which only the justified believer can comprehend. Therefore it is utterly impossible for us to get sanctified at the time of our justification. The two are distinct and separate works of grace, obtained upon distinct and separate conditions. Some people have vainly believed, and some vainly teach, that there is but one work of grace; but such a doctrine is contrary to the word of God, the conditions of the plan of redemption, and the glorious testimonies of thousands of saints who have lived in the past and those who are living witnesses today. It is perfectly natural and logical to every honest and willing child of God who is not yet sanctified to soon believe that there is a second work of grace. Perhaps it will take a few months for some to find out their need, but it is only a question of time till every one will find an inward longing for something more, to satisfy the inward condition of the heart. To prove this statement let us listen to the testimonies of those who are simply justified and have had no teaching on sanctification, whether their Christian life be one of years or but a few months. Everyone who stands in this justified relation with God gives expression in some respects according to the following: "I thank God for salvation and am not sorry that I ever gave my heart to God, but I do feel the need of a deeper work of grace." Another will say, "Pray for me that I may have a clean heart." Another will request prayer for perfect love; another will confess to having been overcome by sin, and having made some crooked paths, and feels sorry and wants to get nearer to God and get a better experience. Now we cannot doubt the sincerity of these hearts, neither their experience. Their experiences are those of honest, willing children of God who are anxious to do the whole will of God. Such expressions would not be given by professors who are void of salvation. The fact is, the experiences of these hearts teach them the need of the second grace, and unless they should be deceived by some false doctrines, they would keep on with such testimonies until they should obtain that perfect love, or a clean heart, or a deeper work of grace. Do they not testify that the first work of grace is not deep enough? They are glad for the first work, but they want something deeper. They are glad that grace has found their heart, but they want a clean heart--one that is free from those conscious uprisings of evil which, if unrestrained, would bring them into condemnation and guilt, and perhaps have already overcome them and produced such an effect in their lives. They are glad for the sweet love of God that has found its way into their hearts, but they long for perfect love. They are conscious of some obstacles which hinder that love from being perfect, and yet they do not understand just how those obstacles can be removed. Someone may tell them that they have all they can get from God and to ask for more would be presumption, and yet their souls cry out for that which is natural in the grace of God, and how ready they are, when they hear sanctification taught, to meet the conditions and enter into the rest for their souls--this perfect love, this deeper work of grace, and this experience of a clean heart, and this baptism with the Holy Ghost. Now let us listen to their testimonies. What do we hear? Ah, we hear them praising God for this they were so longing for. One will praise God for a clean heart; another will say he has found the perfect love; another will testify to the baptism of the Holy Ghost. Others will thank God for sanctification, and others will call it this sweet soul-rest, etc., which all mean the same blessed experience of sanctification. Now if we ask them if they believe in a second work of grace, what will they answer us? Ah, there is no question about it. They have it in their hearts, and they are spoiled for any argument upon the subject. So it is with all God's people who have met the definite conditions for sanctification and have come into this precious grace. We know it is a second work. Ques. How can one keep free from evil thoughts? Ans. The pure heart and mind do not entertain an evil thought. As soon as such thoughts are presented they are banished. In 2 Cor. 10:5 we read how such things are dealt with. "Casting down imaginations, and every high thing that exalteth itself against the knowledge of God, and bringing into captivity every thought to the obedience of Christ." An evil thought thus captivated does not enter into the heart and therefore does not become a sin to us. The apostle James says, "When lust hath conceived, it bringeth forth sin." The evil thought must first enter into the heart and be conceived into a desire before it becomes sin. This world is full of sin and iniquity on every hand. We may hear profanity as we pass along the street, or we may see iniquity before our eyes daily as we come in contact with the world, we may pick up a secular paper and read of murder and theft, and thus these evil thoughts may enter into our minds, but they do not conceive or take root in our hearts. They are brought into captivity and banished from us. If when reading or hearing of a murder or theft, someone should see an opportunity to commit a similar deed and resolve in his heart that he would do so at his first opportunity, that person would have conceived the thought in his heart, and in the sight of God he would be a murderer or a thief, even though he never had the opportunity to carry out the design. The heart that is purified by the cleansing blood of Christ and momently kept in the efficacy of that blood, is the sacred dwelling-place of the Holy Spirit, who has the full and exclusive control of the heart. As long as our will is kept in line with the will of God the Holy Spirit will abide. The word of God says, "Greater is he that is in you than he that is in the world," and, "No man can enter into a strong man's house and spoil his goods, except he will first bind the strong man." The strong man--the Holy Spirit--is in his own house, and it is impossible for sin to enter in unless we by our own will consent to it. The word of God speaks of the Holy Spirit as the seal. This thought is practically illustrated by the common use of a seal in canning fruit. We may be ever so careful with fruit in getting it properly prepared for the can, but if we set it away without the seal, it will not be long until the fruit is spoiled. It requires the seal to keep the fruit from spoiling. There is something in the air which, if not excluded, will spoil the fruit. The use of the seal is to exclude the air. So it is with our heart. Justification inducts us into Christ; sanctification purifies our hearts and seals us in him; now when sin would come in contact with our hearts and defile it, there is something there, the Holy Spirit, the seal, which keeps sin from entering in. "If we walk in the light, as he is in the light, we have fellowship one with another and the blood of Jesus Christ his Son cleanseth us from all sin."--1 John 1:7. Notice the word "cleanseth." It is in the present tense. By our walking in the light, which signifies our perfect obedience continually to all the known will of God, our heart is kept in line with God's will and hence under the provisions of his grace--the sin-cleansing blood of Jesus. Thus the perpetual cleansing keeps our heart pure. By the inwrought work of sanctification we =obtain= this purity, and by our obedience to God, walking in the light, we =retain= it. In this blessed grace, no evil thought can enter our heart unless by our consent. We have willed it so that we forsake all sin and turn to God; thus his grace of justification has found its way into our heart. Then by a definite consecration we willed it so that the cleansing blood of Jesus should purify our heart from inborn depravity, and his grace of sanctification has found its way within, and has brought the glorious heavenly guest, the Holy Spirit, there to abide. Now as we continue to walk in this light we are kept from sin. By our will we either open or close our heart toward God. The will is the entrance and door. The grace of God is free, and more abundant than the sunshine that lights and warms this earth. All of this sunshine may be kept out of the room if we will to have it so. We can darken the windows and doors, and keep every ray of light out, or we can have abundant sunshine if we will, by simply removing the obstacles. So it is with the illimitable grace of God. If we open up wide the door of our heart--our will--and keep it open continually, the grace will flow in and keep out everything that is not like heaven. "For God, who commanded the light to shine out of darkness, hath shined in our hearts, to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ. But we have this treasure in earthen vessels, that the excellency of the power may be of God, and not of us."--2 Cor. 4:6, 7. If we close the door of our heart toward God, it will be opening it toward sin, and the result will be darkness. Depravity will at once have entered in, and then as every evil thought comes into the mind it will find no obstruction to its way into the heart, where it will find a fruitful soil in which to germinate and bring forth evil work. Ques. Does not the word of God say that "from within, out of the heart of men, proceed evil thoughts," etc.? Ans. Yes, this is true; but we must consider what kind of heart Jesus is speaking about. Let us turn to Mark 7. The Pharisees and certain scribes found fault because they saw some of Jesus' disciples eat bread without washing their hands; not that their hands were not clean enough to eat with, but because they did not serve the traditional ceremony, thinking that thus the hearts of the disciples were defiled, but Jesus explained that nothing can defile the heart except that which enters into it. Ver. 19. "And he said, That which cometh out of the man, that defileth the man. For from within, out of the heart of men, proceed evil thoughts, adulteries, fornication, murders, thefts, covetousness, wickedness, deceit, lasciviousness, an evil eye, blasphemy, pride, foolishness: all these evil things come from within, and defile the man."--Verses 20-23. We see that this is a true picture of the unregenerated heart, which has no good thing in it. We also see that it is not an evil thought presented to the mind from without which defileth the man, but it is the evil thought that comes from within a corrupted heart. There are two sources of evil thoughts. 1. The devil himself directly. 2. A corrupt, unregenerate heart, which is a hotbed and nursery of the devil. From either of these outward sources evil thoughts may be presented to the mind of a child of God, but from neither can our hearts be defiled if they are brought into captivity and banished, as will be the case with every obedient soul. Ques. Is not every mistake a sin? Ans. No; there are many mistakes which are not sinful. There is no doubt that every sin is a serious mistake, but God's people do not make such mistakes. The word of God teaches what sin is, and if we abide in Christ we will not commit sin. The scriptural definition of sin will help us to understand this. "Therefore to him that knoweth to do good, and doeth it not, to him it is sin."--Jas. 4:17. "All unrighteousness is sin."--1 John 5:17. "When lust hath conceived it bringeth forth sin."--Jas. 1:15. "Sin is the transgression of the law."--1 John 3:4. "Whosoever abideth in him sinneth not."--1 John 3:6. Any mistake that would be a violation of God's law would be a sin, but aside from this, a simple error in judgment is not a sin. Salvation does not warrant an experience beyond the probability of error in our human nature, and Christian perfection is not infallibility. Ques. Did not Paul say there was sin dwelling in him? Ans. Yes. This expression we find in Rom. 7:17. The apostle when writing this chapter was not describing his sanctified condition. It is a description of his condition when he was in the flesh, or carnal state. "For when we were in the flesh, the motions of sin, which were by the law, did work in our members to bring forth fruit unto death."--Ver. 5. And in Rom. 8:8, 9 he says, "So then they that are in the flesh cannot please God. But ye are not in the flesh, but in the Spirit, if so be that the Spirit of God dwell in you." "For the law of the Spirit of life in Christ Jesus hath made me free from the law of sin and death."--Ver. 2. Paul's condition when under the law is described in the 7th chapter of Romans. In chapters 6 and 8 he describes the condition of the child of God under grace. Ques. But does he not say in Rom. 3:10 that "there is none righteous, no, not one"? Ans. Yes. But he was not describing the condition of the child of God under grace. He refers to the world under the law. No Bible Christian can conscientiously apply Rom. 3:10-18 to himself. Ques. How about Solomon, who said, "There is not a just man upon the earth, that doeth good, and sinneth not"? Ans. This also was spoken of the condition of the people under the law. "The law made nothing perfect, but the bringing in of a better hope did by the which we draw nigh unto God."--Heb. 7:19. In order to properly apply scripture it is very helpful to always consider: 1. Who wrote it? 2. When was it written? 3. Of whom or to whom was it written? In this manner it is easy to determine the meaning of such scriptures as here have been mentioned and many others, which would otherwise render it impossible to harmonize the whole word of God. The two dispensations, the law and grace, are vastly different in many respects. The first was but the shadow of the second. In the first there was no power to take away sin, or to change the inward moral condition of man but in the second there is the power and provision in the redemption of Christ to save us to the uttermost. Ques. But did not Paul say of himself when under grace that he kept his body under and brought it into subjection? Does not this indicate that his body was yet sinful? Ans. Let us turn to 1 Cor. 9:25-27. We see here that he makes no reference to his body being sinful, but tells how he practices temperance in all things. Like one who prepares himself for a race, in training himself physically, bringing his body into subjection in everything, that he may be able to win the prize. In sanctification the sinful and depraved nature is destroyed, and everything unholy cleansed out; therefore there are no sinful propensities to be kept down and under, but all sin is kept out. The sanctified body is not sinful but holy (1 Cor. 3:17) and is designed for God for the dwelling-place of his Holy Spirit. Every propensity and appetite is now restored to its condition of purity, in which it was created before sin entered into the world, but yet we are human. Sanctification does not destroy our human nature, but simply brings it into easy control, with every propensity in harmony with the design of its Creator. But we are yet in this world and the creature--our physical nature--is yet subject to vanity. Satan with all his malicious and crafty devices is lying in wait to deceive and lead astray. He comes to us and appeals to our physical nature in many respects, and it is necessary that we keep in a watchful and prayerful attitude "lest by any means, as the serpent beguiled Eve through his subtilty, so your minds should be corrupted from the simplicity that is in Christ."--2 Cor. 11:3. Even through our appetites would Satan gain the advantage over us, and finally bring us into bondage, if he were permitted to do so. In this respect the apostle Paul kept his body under and brought every appetite and propensity into subjection to serve him, rather than he should serve them, and all his ransomed powers were bent upon his faithful obedience to the one object of his existence--the ministry of the gospel. Ques. Can a person lose the experience of sanctification? Ans. Yes, it is possible to lose it. This experience does not place us beyond temptation. It only fortifies us more strongly against the world, the flesh, and the devil, and greatly diminishes the probability of falling. Ques. Does not the word of God teach that "Whosoever abideth in him sinneth not"; and "Whosoever is born of God doth not commit sin"? Ans. Yes; this is certainly true. There is no possibility of sinning in Christ. It is only when a person gets out of Christ that it is possible to commit sin. The term "born of God" includes both justified and sanctified. No justified person can commit sin and retain the justified experience; therefore, no one who is born of God and retains this divine relationship in him will sin. Everyone who commits sin must do so outside of this life in God. The apostle John says, "Whosoever sinneth hath not seen him, neither known him," which signifies that in the act of committing sin a person gets entirely outside of Christ. In such an act he has not seen, nor known him. The apostle also says concerning those who are born of God, that they "cannot sin," because they are "born of God." This statement agrees with the one just quoted, and proves that it is not possible to commit sin in Christ; but it does not infer that it is not possible to get out of Christ and commit sin. The expression "cannot sin" simply signifies that there is no disposition in the heart to commit sin. We are constrained by love to him who gave his life for us, to do nothing to displease him. We have the privilege and power to displease him if we will, but we have no will to do so. We "cannot" do it and abide loyal to him. A mother may be requested to take a weapon and slay her child, but she at once answers, I cannot! Yea, she can if she will; but the answer would in every case be repeated "I cannot!" It is not difficult to see why she cannot do such a deed. She has no disposition to do so, even though she has the power to do it. Her love for her child renders it impossible so long as that love continues. Ques. Can a person be restored to this experience of sanctification if it should be lost? Ans. Yes, by complying with the conditions; but the same act of sin which would cause us to lose our experience of sanctification would also forfeit our justification, and bring us into condemnation. Therefore the conditions necessary to get back into Christ would be first, repentance and faith; then by a definite consecration, or a renewal of our consecration which has been broken, and a definite faith in the all-cleansing blood of Christ we will be restored to sanctification. Ques. In case a person shall unfortunately sustain such a loss, how long would it take to become restored? Ans. Just as long as it would take to meet the conditions. No one in such a case should wait an hour, but knowing just what conditions are required, they should be complied with at once. Ques. How can we understand the seventh chapter of Romans to harmonize with the doctrine of holiness? Ans. From the seventh verse of this chapter the apostle describes his experience when under the law, before he had been brought into the grace of God. From the seventh to the fourteenth verse he speaks of his experience, making use of the past tense. From the fourteenth verse through the rest of the chapter he makes use of the present tense, but still continues the description of his past experience. It is held by holiness opposers that this chapter is a description of the apostle's experience under grace, and that this is the highest possible experience attainable in this gospel dispensation. But such an experience is not consistent with grace at all. If this were all that grace can do, there would be no encouragement in it for any one to accept. No sinner could do worse than the experience described here, except that he might deliberately choose to sin and do everything wrong. This chapter describes the sinner as having a desire in his mind to do right but no power within him to carry out his desires, in any respect. He is awakened to the requirements of the law of God, but finds he is held fast by another law which holds him with such power as to render him helpless, utterly helpless, to do anything good. This does not apply to the justified experience under grace. It applies perfectly to that under the law, because the Mosaic law had no other power, nor design, than to awaken the conscience; and this is just what the apostle here describes concerning himself "For I was alive without the law once: but when the commandment came, sin revived, and I died."--Rom. 7:9. He died in trespasses and sin. This was the condition of all men under the law, and this is where grace found the world. "Now we know that what things soever the law saith, it saith to them who are under the law that every mouth may be stopped, and all the world may become guilty before God."--Rom. 3:19. Ques. Is every child at birth sinful by nature? Ans. The race of mankind has descended from Adam through Seth, who was born not in the image of God as Adam and Eve were created, but in the image and after the likeness of Adam as he was after the fall. It is evident that our first parents lost the image of God through their disobedience, and it is also evident that this image of God has never been regained through the first Adam. The word of God plainly teaches that Christ, the second Adam, is the image of God, and by the power of his redemption grace, he will restore this image to every son and daughter of Adam's race who will meet the conditions for the same. The first Adam is depraved and a sad failure. He has no power within himself to change his moral condition. The second Adam (Christ) is a glorious success. He possesses all the moral characteristics of purity and holiness that the first Adam did before the fall, and also has the power to impart this image of God to all who come to him. The image of Adam is entailed upon the race through the fall, and evidently, though mysteriously, affects mankind through the natural law of generation. The image of God is provided for the race through redemption in Christ, and is imparted to each individual through the divine law of regeneration and its accompanying grace. It is compatible with the word of God, with reason, and with observation, that every child born into this world through the natural law of generation, very early in life in a greater or lesser degree manifests some of the characteristics of this image of Adam. Just how, when, and where the child partakes of this nature would be a subject of conjecture and speculation. The psalmist says he was conceived in sin and shapen in iniquity (See Psa. 51:5.) and according to the condition of the unregenerate world this is as true today as it was in the days of David. The innocent child, of course, is not accountable for this inward condition of its nature, but as it grows to the age of accountability it becomes an easy prey to the powers of sin because of this condition. While innocent, it is unquestionably acceptable in the sight of God and comes under the provisions of the redemption of Christ unconditionally: for "sin is not imputed where there is no law."--Rom. 5:13. The apostle says "I was alive without the law once; but when the commandment came, sin revived, and I died."--Rom. 7:9. He no doubt had reference to the innocent period of his life. The principle of sin was in his nature, but "without the law sin was dead"; it had no power to bring him into condemnation. As soon, however, as he became able to know what the law required of him, sin revived and made him a transgressor by causing him to disobey the commands of God. There is no room to question the fact that sin was in his nature; for he plainly states it so, and the expression, "sin revived" indicates that it had been in him during the period of his innocent state. CHAPTER XIII Personal Experience In conclusion I desire to add my humble testimony of a personal experience of the glorious work of entire sanctification. At the age of seventeen years I was converted. All who were acquainted with me had no reason to doubt the genuine, inwrought grace of pardon and the new life which at once began to bring forth fruit unto God. But the one to whom this mighty change seemed the most marvelous was myself. My poor soul, which for several years had been held under the terrible bondage and darkness of sin, was now turned from darkness unto light and from the power of Satan unto God, and there was no room either internally or externally to question that I had received forgiveness of sins. The glory and blessedness of that sacred hour and that hallowed spot "when love divine first found me" can never be erased from my memory. I will not say, as I have often heard others testify of their own, that my experience was more wonderful than that of anyone else, but I do not see how it could have been any more wonderful to me than it was, and it is but useless to make an effort to tell it. All who have come into this precious life, and have the Spirit bearing witness with our spirit that we are the children of God, understand what it means to be justified by faith and have this sweet peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ. But this peace with God meant war with the enemy of my soul, and I soon learned that the battle was a serious one. The artful schemes of the enemy were deeply planned for my overthrow, and while attending school the spirit of the world succeeded in leading me into defeat, and I decided to yield myself again unto the world, and gave up the struggle against sin. But oh, what darkness! God only knows what horrors I suffered. I had been saved but a few months and had had the taste of true happiness which so spoiled me for the empty pleasures of sin that I was often so wretched and miserable that life was a burden. But thank God, this condition of life was only of about two month's duration. Through the burning tears of my precious mother, which fairly bathed my face and neck one day as she suddenly came into my room and clasped her arms around me, I was enabled again to decide for God and heaven. This decision was so thoroughly burned in upon my soul by those scalding tears that, by the grace of God, I believe it will last from that day to my latest breath. The sweet joy and peace of heaven was restored and I believe I enjoyed salvation as much as anyone could in my circumstances. I knew I was a child of God, but it was not long until I became fully conscious that there was a deeper work of grace needed within me. My parents both professed entire sanctification at the time of the conversion of the four oldest children, which included myself, but my life was much occupied in securing an education, and having but limited opportunities I was absorbed mostly with my studies, then afterward became engaged in educational work for a number of years. It needed no arguments to prove that my parents possessed a deeper spiritual life than I did, and although the doctrine of sanctification was not so clearly taught and understood then as now, yet I was fully aware this was what I needed. Sometimes I thought I had obtained the experience, but soon it was proved by unmistakable evidence that I was not sanctified. I had not come to the point of a definite and absolute consecration, and really did not understand how to make this consecration. My great ambition in life was to make a mark in the world. This was so deeply implanted within me that I caused every energy to bend in that direction. I dearly loved God and fully realized my utter dependence upon him, but my love was not perfected. Then unfortunately I had a quick temper, which I found justification had not destroyed. It was materially repressed and generally held under control, but it was there and needed only the provocation to assert its presence; and sometimes, I am sorry to say, it brought me under condemnation and I had cause to repent and regain the sweet peace of God. But the manner of my life, I believe, as a whole, was such that none of my most intimate acquaintances had any reason to question the sincerity of my heart or my profession as a Christian. The one who was most dissatisfied with my inward condition was myself, and for more than eight years I knew that a deeper work must be wrought before I could be satisfied. Oh, how truly I could understand the prayer of David when he so longed for a clean heart; and had I been brought to the knowledge of the complete consecration, I might have been living in this blessed Canaan rest of soul soon after my conversion. But God was good and full of tender mercy. He carried me along and forgave my defeats and so lovingly bore with me, even though my heart was divided between him and some things of this world. I had forsaken all that I had to follow Jesus, but unconsciously these objects would come between Jesus, the object of my love, and myself, and thus hinder the perfect communion of the Holy Spirit. About one year prior to my entering into this perfect rest, the doctrine of sanctification was quite thoroughly agitated. Some advocates of the Zinzendorf doctrine produced some strong efforts to overthrow the doctrine of the second work of grace. I had studied the scriptures carefully and honestly, and while I did not have the experience of the second grace myself, I was certain that the one-work teaching was not correct; for I knew I had received all that my heart could receive in the grace of pardon, and knew also that I soon found that I needed just exactly what the term sanctification implies, and what the dear ones who believed in and were advocating the second work of grace were testifying to by word and deed. In the winter of 1883-4, while dear companion and myself were engaged with some sanctified ones in a protracted meeting, to rescue the perishing, we were brought as never before face to face with the stern necessity of more spiritual power and life. We were shown by the Holy Spirit that there is but one route to the promised land and that is by crossing the Jordan. Death was inevitable if we would come into this abundant life. We paused and reflected, looked backward and forward, but there was no alternative--death was our doom. One day while I was absent from home, and dear companion was left alone, the Lord spoke to her so plainly that she had one cherished idol that must necessarily be sacrificed. It was a God-given blessing, but must be yielded freely to him. She obeyed and entered into the glory of sanctification. When I returned home I soon found that the work in her was done. Something marvelous had been accomplished. It was wonderful what a change. She told me of the death she had to pass through and I fully realized it. The divine glory which had come into her heart was unspeakable. She tried to show me how to die the same death. I was desirous to yield and cross over with her, but I found a resistance in my will which held me back. I came to my cherished treasures, some of which were God-given blessings, but unquestionably the Holy Spirit said they must be yielded up a burnt offering unto the Lord. My will must become swallowed up into the will of God completely, even to this death. I said, "Yes, Lord, I will"; but the yes found a hesitancy. It did not reach the depths of my heart. I kept saying it over and over--"Yes, Lord"--and tried to get it deeper every time I said it; but the Lord knew it did not reach the inmost depths. That was a wonderful day to me, but it was not the day of my death, as it was of my companion. She told in meeting that evening what the Lord had wrought. I told what I was trying to say to the Lord--"Thy will be done." Time passed by and I still hesitated. I wanted the Lord's perfect will, but also wanted just a little of my will. I wanted both, but the Lord showed that I could have but one; and I plainly knew which one, if I was ever to obtain the grace of sanctification. The life of my companion was a daily testimony which only added to my trouble. I knew she had what she never had before. Her life before was all that I ever expected to find in a true, devoted, Christian woman, but now in some marvelous manner there was vastly more heaven in her life than before, and the marked absence of everything unlike heaven. I knew she was sanctified, and I knew I was not. She had just what I must have, and what my soul was longing for these years. Oh, why could I not just now say "Yes!" with my whole heart and die the death and gain the abundant life? Sometimes I was under such conviction that I felt miserable. I asked God to forgive me for not yielding up my whole heart as I knew he would have me do. * * * * * Weeks and months passed and my attention became absorbed in business and the cares of life, but these months were more unsatisfactory than all my previous Christian life, and some of this time I certainly lived on a very low plane of spirituality, and it is evident that I at last came to the point where my justification would have been forfeited had I not gone over and possessed the land. I struggled and suffered sometimes unutterably. After the struggle was over and I was sanctified I could look back and see where I had come up to a deep chasm so deep and dark that I could not see the bottom. It was too wide for me to step across. On the other side was everything my soul longed for. I could see the beautiful plane and way of sanctification. My loved ones were walking on it and rejoicing in its glory. Above the chasm there seemed suspended a rope securely fastened and strong enough to hold my weight, and it seemed that I could easily take hold of this rope and by a desperate effort swing myself across the chasm. I had taken hold of the rope and was for a long time hesitating about making the leap. The chasm was the depth I must drop into in order to reach sanctification, but it seemed awful--so deep and dark, and no assurance that I would ever see life again. The rope was my will. I had presumed to swing across without going into the death, but God knew that would not be his way, and there I stood, gazing with fear and trembling into the immensity of this dark chasm into which to leap meant certain death. Later I had taken hold of the rope and swung myself away from where I had been standing, with the hope of reaching the other side. I could not reach it and now was worse off than before, for I was now suspended above the chasm and could neither go back nor go forward. There I was hanging and swinging, holding on for life, and yet the Holy Spirit kept saying, "Let go." My sufferings increased until I began to feel that death would be a relief. At that time God sent a brother to us who preached a sermon from the text, 1 Peter 4:1, 2, with emphasis upon the clause, "For he that hath suffered in the flesh hath ceased from sin." The Holy Spirit applied this to me and revealed to my soul the utter necessity of death to gain sanctification. The end came, I let go my death grip of the rope and said as I never said before, "Yes, Lord, thy will be done!" I knew that it reached the uttermost depth of my soul. God knew it, and I am certain that Satan knew it. At the close of that meeting I said, "I am now offered up." There was no conscious change only I knew my will was yielded, and I am certain that not an atom of earth existed between God and me. We went home late in the evening, and as I was retiring I knelt once more before God and simply told him that now after these months of struggle it was all ended and I was so thankful to him that I could say so sweetly, "Thy will be done." My hold upon the rope had become so weary. How sweet and blessed now to rest so securely in that infinite will. The great chasm was deep and dark, but I was so glad that I had let go and dropped into it; for I was so conscious now that even in the darkness and depths I was in his will. As I dropped, loving arms of Jesus had caught me and I was glad to be in death with him. I felt within me that something wonderful was about to take place. I arose from my knees and scarcely had time to lie down when truly I experienced a taste of death. Wholly unconscious of my earthly surroundings, but knowing I was in the presence of Jesus, I believe a death was wrought within me, after which the baptism of pentecostal fire and the Holy Ghost came upon me. The refining fire went through my very body and the effect seemed terrible. The sublime consciousness of the presence of heaven and the majesty of God was such as mortal tongue can never describe. Then following the distinct baptism of fire the floodgates of heaven's glory were opened upon me, and, oh, the heavenly deluge that followed can be realized only by those who have experienced the same. More than sixteen years have passed since this wonderful event, and while the emotions of feeling have been varied through the labors and toils of a busy life (both in business life, and twelve years in the gospel ministry), I can testify to the glory of God that the power and victory in this blessed second grace has been all-sufficient. The word of God, now I found, was full of sanctification, and my new experience spoiled me for any arguments against the doctrine as a second work of grace, and in due time I could plainly see that according to the word of God and the plan of redemption it must be an experience subsequent to justification. The conscious presence of the indwelling Holy Spirit and the knowledge of a pure heart in this precious grace is what we need continually in this battle against the powers of the enemy. Brother and sister, have you had your Pentecost? If not, tarry at Jerusalem. "And the very God of peace sanctify you wholly; and I pray God your whole spirit and soul and body be preserved blameless unto the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ. Faithful is he that calleth you, who also will do it."--1 Thess. 5:23, 24. * * * * * Transcriber's Note Minor punctuation errors have been corrected without notice. A few obvious typographical errors have been corrected and are listed below. Page 3: "The Holy Spirit of Promise" page number changed from "23" to "25". Page 8: "It is indispensible" changed to "It is indispensable". Page 17: "the words "having" signifying" changed to "the word "having" signifying". Page 36: "than should no place" changed to "then should no place". Page 45: "so deeply inbedded" changed to "so deeply embedded". Page 62: "of ecclestiastical bondage" changed to "of ecclesiastical bondage". Page 62: "will in every individaul" changed to "will in every individual". Page 63: "throughly furnished unto all" changed to "thoroughly furnished unto all". Pages 77-78: "made "perfect his death" changed to "made "perfect" by his death". Page 85: "sanctificed condition" changed to "sanctified condition". Page 90: "Chapter XIV" changed to "Chapter XIII". Page 95: "no consicous change only" changed to "no conscious change only". 
27237	----	AN ESSAY ON THE SCRIPTURAL DOCTRINE OF IMMORTALITY BY THE REV. JAMES CHALLIS, M.A., F.R.S., F.R.A.S. PLUMIAN PROFESSOR OF ASTRONOMY AND EXPERIMENTAL PHILOSOPHY IN THE UNIVERSITY OF CAMBRIDGE, AND FELLOW OF TRINITY COLLEGE. _Anagke gar moi epikeitai ouai gar moi estin, ean me euaggelzûmai --1 Cor. ix. 16 RIVINGTONS London, Oxford, and Cambridge MDCCCLXXX RIVINGTONS London . . . . . . _Waterloo Place_ Oxford . . . . . . _Magdalen Street_ Cambridge . . . . _Trinity Street_ [_All rights reserved_] {1} AN ESSAY ON THE SCRIPTURAL DOCTRINE OF IMMORTALITY. Considering that under the existing conditions of humanity, disease, and decay, and death abound on every side, it is surprising that the word "immortality" obtained a place in systems of philosophy, the authors of which must be supposed to have been unacquainted with divine revelation. It is not surprising that in the absence of such aid the belief of immortality should not have been firmly held, or that by some philosophers it should have been expressly disavowed. Even in the Canonical Scriptures, the words "immortal" and "immortality" occur only in the Epistles of the Apostle Paul, and consequently not till "life and immortality had been brought to light through the Gospel." It is a remarkable circumstance that these words are met with more frequently in the Apocryphal Books, 2 Esdras, Wisdom of Solomon, and Ecclesiasticus, than in the Canonical Scriptures. The {2} explanation of the apparent silence of the Scriptures, especially those of the Old Testament, on so essential a doctrine, will, I think, be found to be given by the course of argument adopted in this essay. It may, further, be noticed that, according to philosophical dogma not derived from the teaching of Scripture, immortality is regarded as a principle, or innate quality, in virtue of which the human soul is exempt from the experience of death or annihilation. On this account Greek and Roman philosophers speak of "the immortality of _the soul_," and even in the present day the same terms are used, the soul being regarded as _per se_ immortal. But neither in the Scriptures, nor in the Apocrypha, is "immortality" qualified by the adjunct "of the soul;" the reason for which may be that since death, as far as our senses inform us, is an _objective_ reality, the writers judged that mortality and freedom from mortality could only be predicated of _body_. It must, however, be taken into account that according to the doctrine of Scripture there is "a spiritual body" as well as "a natural body," so that while the natural body is, as we know, subject to the law of death, it may be true that the spiritual body is capable of immortality. This point will be farther discussed in the course of the essay. To account for the absence of any direct announcement of man's immortality in the Old Testament, and for its being sparingly mentioned in the New {3} Testament, the following argument seems legitimate and sufficient. These Scriptures, as already intimated, give no countenance to the idea that the soul of man possesses any innate principle of immortality; on the contrary, they reveal immortality by revealing _the means_ by which the spirit of man is _made_ immortal. As, according to natural science, the external world, both the animate part and the inanimate, has become such as we now perceive it to be by processes of generation and development, so there is reason from Scripture to say that a spiritual world is being created in an analogous manner, and that to this creation all other creations are subordinate and contributory. Moreover, we, the subjects of this creation, are so constituted that we are conscious of, and can ourselves take cognizance of, the means by which it is effected. These considerations may be applied to account for the mode in which immortality is treated of in the Bible. It concerns us, above all things, to discern and feel the operations whereby our spirits are formed both intellectually and morally for an immortal existence; and, accordingly, Scripture is full of instruction, addressed both to the understanding and the heart, concerning those means. Thus, although the final effect is not directly named till the scheme of the spiritual creation is completely unfolded, it is yet true that the whole of the Scriptures from beginning to end has relation to man's immortality. {4} Not only did the philosophy of Greece and Rome fail to substantiate the reality of an immortal existence; other philosophical systems, as well the mystical conceptions of Eastern nations, as the metaphysical speculations of modern Europe, have equally failed to arrive at certainty respecting this verity. Now, it will be found, I think, to be established by the argument of this essay, that in all these instances the cause of failure is the same. The doctrine cannot, in fact, be understood and believed without an understanding of the means by which the immortal spirit is _formed_, and the ascertainment of those means is beyond the power of unaided human intelligence. Although the evidences of an immortal destiny may be in us and around us, they cannot be discerned apart from enlightenment by a divine revelation as to the purpose and end of the whole creation. The Scriptures of the Old and New Testaments profess to be a revelation of the mind and will of the Creator of all things. If they are really such, they must be capable of giving the information which, as said above, is necessary for certifying the doctrine of man's immortality. I shall, therefore, with express reference to the title of the essay, first make the _hypothesis_ that the Scriptures are indeed a revelation from God, written to reveal His will and His acts, and on this ground I shall proceed to inquire what information can be derived from them respecting the {5} _creation_ of the spirit of man for an immortal destiny. The character of the information obtained may possibly suffice to establish both the truth of the hypothesis and the certainty of the doctrine of immortality. Before commencing the argument, it will be well to state on what principles, and according to what rules, Scripture will be cited for conducting it. It will be supposed that the Holy Scriptures, as a whole, consist of words of God written for our sakes; and although they were written by human authors, under diverse circumstances, and in various ages, the several parts are still to be regarded as having virtually but _one author_, the Holy Spirit, and as constituting on that account a consistent whole. This view is almost necessitated by the noticeable circumstance that very little information is given in the Scriptures themselves respecting the authors of the writings, or the time and place of their composition. This is true, for instance, of such cardinal books as the four Gospels. Respecting these matters enough is said to show that human hands have been employed to write the books of Scripture, while so much has been left unsaid that we must infer that this kind of information is of little moment by reason of the _internal_ evidence the Scriptures contain of their divine authorship. Such evidence, it seems to me, is especially given by the fact that the Scriptures present a faithful _transcript_ of {6} the world as it has been and is, in respect to the calamities, wars, and revolutions that have befallen nations, and those weaknesses and wickednesses of individuals and peoples, the accounts of which are so great a stumbling-block to the "unstable and the unlearned." These very accounts, it is possible, may be intended to tell us, if rightly inquired into, why these things are so, why there is evil in the world, and what shall be the end of it. The world has existed, it is believed, nearly six thousand years, and at this day we see that many suffer from sorrow and pain, labour and poverty are the lot of a very large proportion of the populations, calamities by fire and water are frequent, plague and pestilence still visit the earth, cruelty and murders are rife, and so far from there being an end of wars, never before have men fabricated such potent implements for killing each other. Such facts as these constitute, after all, the difficulties which beset humanity, and it may be presumed that, with the intent of accounting for their existence, they are put on record in the word of God. On the broad principle that the Author of a world like this will have vouchsafed reasons for its being such as it is, I accept the Scriptures of the Old and New Testaments as the word of God written for this very purpose, and instead of cavilling, as some do, at difficulties which probably have no other foundation than their own ignorance, it will be my {7} endeavour to make use of Scripture for explaining the perplexities and difficulties which actually surround the facts of human experience. The discussion of the particular question I have taken in hand will give occasion for employing the Scriptures in this manner, and in doing so I shall quote from all parts indiscriminately, regarding the whole as sufficiently authoritative and trustworthy for the purposes of the argument. The above-mentioned general purpose the Scriptures may be supposed to be adequate to fulfil, whether as expressed in the Hebrew tongue, or in that of the Septuagint, or as translated in the English version, notwithstanding that, as must be admitted, faults of transcription, or translation, or interpretation have given rise to many verbal errors. But the difficulties produced by these imperfections are of slight importance in comparison with the great difficulty of discovering how and on what principles to interpret the Scriptures so as to derive from them the particular doctrines they are designed to teach. Amid the great diversity of views that exists relative to modes of interpretation, it may safely be maintained that the foremost and chief requisite for making true deductions from the Scriptures is to have _confidence_ in them as being depositions of Divine wisdom. Men of science, in their endeavours to discover the secrets of Nature, are baffled again and again, and yet by little and {8} little they obtain accessions to knowledge just because they never doubt but that Nature, if rightly interrogated, will give them true answers. It seems, therefore, reasonable to expect that the words of God, handled on principles analogous to those which have been successfully applied in acquiring knowledge of His works, might be found capable of answering the hard questions which are now, more, perhaps, than in past times, agitating men's minds. This philosophy, having a surer basis than that of any mere human intellectual system, might be expected to succeed where these have failed. The bearing of these remarks on the main subject of the essay will be seen as we go on. Commencing now, after the foregoing preliminaries, the general argument, I remark, in the first place, that since, as matter of fact, all men die, they cannot partake of immortality unless they are restored to life after death. We have, therefore, to inquire both as to what the Scriptures say concerning _death_, and what they reveal concerning _resurrection_. Again, it may be taken for granted that as in the natural world, so in the spiritual world, the Creator of all things effects His purposes by operating according to _laws_. On this principle St. Paul in Rom. viii. 2 speaks of "the law of sin and death," meaning that sin and death are invariably related to each other as antecedent and consequent. By an irrevocable law {9} death is ordained to be "the wages of sin" (Rom. vi. 23). Of ourselves we can judge that it does not consist with the power and wisdom of an omnipotent and omniscient Creator that the sinful should live for ever. But if this be so, it must evidently be true also that immortality, being exemption from death, is the _consequence_ of freedom from sin, that is, of perfect righteousness. This is as necessary a law as the other. Hence the inquiry respecting the means by which man is made immortal resolves itself into inquiring by what means he is made righteous; and, as the first step in this inquiry, we have to consider what Scripture says concerning the entrance of sin and death into the world. If sin be defined to be doing what is contrary to the will of God, as expressed by a command, righteousness, being its opposite, will consist in acting according to His will. Hence sin and righteousness both imply that a revelation of the will of God has been antecedently made, either directly by a command or law, or by the voice of conscience. It is on this principle that St. Paul says, "apart from law sin is dead" (Rom. vii. 8), and in another place speaks of "the righteousness _of the law_" being fulfilled (Rom. viii. 4). Accordingly, when Adam was placed in the garden of Eden, a _command_ was expressly given him for trial of his obedience. {10} The narrative in Scripture of the circumstances under which sin was first committed is deserving of special consideration on account of the instruction it conveys. It states that Eve, knowing that God had commanded Adam not to eat of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, yet, being deceived by the serpent and enticed by her own desires, "took of the fruit thereof, and did eat, and gave also to her husband with her, and he did eat" (Gen. iii. 6). Thus, as St. Paul writes, "Adam was not deceived, but the woman being deceived was in the transgression" (1 Tim. ii. 14). But both partook of the forbidden fruit, and by so doing both sinned alike against their Maker, the deed being sinful, not as considered by itself, but by reason of the antecedent command, which made it an act of _disobedience_. If we assume that the account of Eve's temptation is to be taken as literally true, so that the tempter had actually the form of a serpent and addressed to her _spoken_ words, these facts will have to be regarded as altogether _miraculous_. There are good reasons for admitting this view, when it is considered, first, that the information which this portion of Scripture gives equally concerns all of every age, and in order that it might be intelligible to all, it was necessary that in the infancy of the world it should be conveyed by _objective_ representation; and, again, that various instances are met with in the Bible of analogous {11} teaching of essential doctrine by means of miracles. The translation of Enoch, the Deluge, the destruction of Sodom, the plagues of Egypt and deliverance of Israel, the giving of the law from Sinai, the passage of Jordan, the ascension of Elijah, and the resurrection of Christ, are all symbolic miracles, the interpretations of which have intimate relation to the doctrine of man's immortality. This being understood, I shall proceed to discuss particularly the meaning of the Scriptural account of the beginning of sin through temptation by the serpent, and on the supposition that the facts as recorded are real but symbolic, I shall endeavour to deduce from them their doctrinal signification. The first question to consider is, Why is the tempting spirit called a _serpent_? The Scripture affirms that "the serpent was more subtil (_phronimôatos_) than any beast of the field" (Gen. iii. 1); and our Lord, addressing his apostles, said, "Lo, I send you as sheep in the midst of wolves; be ye, therefore, wise (_phronimoi_) as serpents, and harmless as doves." Yet, as we know, the serpent is not endowed in any special manner with sagacity or reason. The fact is, the epithet "subtil" is applied to the serpent with reference to its form and movements, which convey the abstract idea of subtlety on the same principle that the words "tortuous" and "twisting" have an abstract meaning when we speak of "tortuous policy," {12} or "twisting the meaning of a sentence." Now this subtle entity--this serpent--although presented to Eve in bodily form, was not the less that spirit of evil, the personal existence of which, on the hypothesis that the Scriptures are true, as well as its influence on human minds, must be admitted. Accordingly our first parents were tempted by what St. Paul calls "the wiles (_tas methodeias_) of the devil" (Eph. vi. 11). Again, the statement in Gen. iii. 6, that "when the woman saw that the tree was good for food, and that it was pleasant to the eyes, and a tree to be desired to make one wise, she took of the fruit thereof, and did eat," is in accordance with what St. John teaches as to "the lust of the flesh," "the lust of the eyes," and "the pride of life," being opposed to "doing the will of God" (1 John ii. 16, 17). Also, as we have seen, Adam was associated with a partner, who, having been overcome, in consequence of such desires, by the wiles of Satan, committed sin, and then induced her husband to do the same. Thus, since the world at that time consisted of these two individuals, it is an obvious inference, as well as one of great significance, that Adam was tempted just as all his offspring are--that is, by the world, the flesh, and the devil--and, as all his offspring do, yielded to the temptation. Although Adam was created in the image of his Maker in respect to being endowed with powers of {13} understanding and reasoning, and although he was made capable of learning and doing righteousness, he was not originally _made righteous_, forasmuch as he sinned: but those whom God makes righteous sin no more, because all the works of God are perfect. "The first man Adam was made a living soul," the breath of life being breathed into his nostrils (Gen. ii. 7). He thus partook of natural life, but not of spiritual life. He was, as St. Paul says, "of the earth, earthy," and all we who are descended from him "bear the image of the earthy" (1 Cor. xv. 47, 49). The mind (_to phronêma_) of this natural man is at "enmity with God," and "neither is, nor can be, subject to the law of God" (Rom. viii. 7). This accounts for our perceiving in children from their very infancy a spirit of disobedience, this spirit being derived through natural descent from that which our first parents exhibited in the infancy of the world. The author of the Apocryphal Book, 2 Esdras, writes: "The first man Adam, bearing a wicked heart, transgressed, and was overcome; and so be all they that are born of him" (iii. 21). In the Wisdom of Solomon this passage occurs: "Wisdom preserved the first formed father of the world, that was created alone, and brought him out of his fall" (x. 1). But it is to be remarked that the word here translated "fall" is _paraptôma_, the same word that St. Paul uses in Rom. iv. 25 and v. 16, to designate "_our_ transgressions." {14} Cruden in his Concordance gives under the word "fall" an elaborate statement of received views respecting "the fall of man," although that word, as the Concordance shows, does not once occur in the Canonical Scriptures in any relation to the sin of Adam. It is very noteworthy that after the account of Adam's sin in Genesis, no express mention is made of it in subsequent Canonical Books, till we come to the fifth chapter of St. Paul's Epistle to the Romans, where the introduction of sin into the world by _one man_ is prominently adduced in an argumentative passage which appears to me to have been much misunderstood.[1] The reason that a fact which is so essential an element in theological systems is so little adverted to in the Scriptures, I consider to be, that these systems have hitherto not recognized an analogy which may be presumed to exist between God's natural creation and His spiritual creation. From what is stated in Genesis i. and ii. there is reason to say that the natural creation was at its beginning without form, and dark, and unfurnished, and that by the power of the Creator, operating, we may presume, according to laws, it was brought into the state of order, light, and adornment (_kosmos_) which we now behold. Hence, arguing from analogy, we {15} might infer that the spiritual creation has its beginning in the reign of sin and death, and that by the power of the Spirit of God, operating according to law on our spirits, it has its consummation in the establishment of righteousness and life. This analogical inference suffices, I think, to explain why, after the brief initial account of the entrance of sin and death into the world, the purport of the whole of Scripture is to record the subsequent prevalence of sin, and to reveal by what means grace abounded in the gift of righteousness, and how it abounded all the more because the law of sin and death "passed" from one man "upon all men" (Rom. v. 12). The apostle Paul argues that whereas "_death_ reigned through one, _much rather_ shall they who receive the abundance of grace and of the gift of righteousness reign in _life_ through one Jesus Christ" (Rom. v. 17); and in accordance with this doctrine he adds (v. 20), "The law entered by the way (_pareisêlen_) _in order that_ the offence might abound, but where sin abounded grace did much more abound." It seems impossible to draw from such sentences as these any other inference than that, according to the scheme of the spiritual creation, the reign of sin and death is the necessary antecedent of the evolution of life from righteousness. The apostle sums up his argument by saying (v. 19), "For as by the disobedience of one man the many were made sinners, so also by the obedience {16} of one shall the many be made righteous" (_dikaioi katastatêsontai oi polloi_). It is evident that "the many" here includes all that are born in the world, in contradistinction to "the one," Adam, who was created, and from whom all have descended by natural generation. Now, considering that righteousness and life, as necessarily as their opposites sin and death, are related to each other by law as antecedent and consequent, the above revelation that "all will be made righteous" is as direct an assertion of the immortality of all men as could possibly be made. It is, therefore, of the greatest moment, as regards our argument, to ascertain on what grounds we are told that all will eventually be "made righteous" through the obedience of Jesus Christ, and what is the exact meaning of this doctrine. The purpose of this essay will be completely fulfilled if it should be shown that these questions admit of being satisfactorily answered. But before attempting to do this, it is necessary to have a precise understanding of the previous assertion that through Adam's disobedience "the many were made sinners." This preliminary inquiry I now proceed to enter upon. If we adopt the view expressed in a passage already quoted (2 Esdras iii. 21), we shall, in effect, admit that the transgression of Adam was _the consequence_ of his "bearing a wicked heart," and that all who are born of him sin because by _natural generation_ they {17} have received from him the same wicked heart. According to this view it must be supposed that "the wicked heart" is in respect to goodness a _tabula rasa_, and that till goodness be formed in it, it is led by natural desires to do evil. Certainly the moral phenomena exhibited by very young children accord with this supposition; and it may reasonably be presumed that St. Paul, in giving to the Romans, to whom he had not personally preached, a synoptical statement of the doctrines he was accustomed to teach, did not set before them the Scriptural account of the introduction and prevalence of sin in any manner not intelligible to ordinary minds from common experience. What then are we to understand by the assertion that "through the disobedience of one man the many were made sinners"? In answer to this question it is to be said that the word _parakoê_ may be taken in this passage to signify "disobedience" abstractedly, and not a special act of disobedience, because _upakoê_ in the next clause does not require to be taken in a specific sense, but rather as referring to that holy spirit which was in Jesus Christ, in virtue of which his will was always in subjection to the will of his heavenly Father, and he became "obedient unto death." According to this interpretation, "disobedience" is here put for that wickedness of heart the antecedent existence of which the sin of Adam gave {18} evidence of, and which, by being transmitted from father to son through natural generation, has made all men sinners, to the end that all may be eventually made righteous by spiritual generation. It is true that the sin of Adam, being the first violation of a command received from God, first made disobedience an objective reality, and that thus sin entered into the world. But although _actual_ transgression had this beginning, it does not follow that the _proneness_ of the heart of man to transgress was contingent on Adam's sin, or thereby came into existence. On the other hand, it will probably be urged that to ascribe its existence to any other cause is "to make God the author of sin." In answer to this objection it may be said that if it were valid as regards God's moral essence, one might with as good reason urge that it was inconsistent with His power and intelligence that the natural creation should have its beginning in darkness and chaos. However, whether or not this view be accepted, I shall assume that the reality of the natural wickedness of the human heart is admitted, and consequently the remainder of the argument, inasmuch as it has reference to the means by which the wicked heart is subdued and made righteous, will in either case be the same. The relation of "one" to "many," considered only as a natural fact, is so peculiar and essential an {19} element in the past history and progressive development of the human race, that it might well be supposed to be specially significant with respect to their future destiny; and, in fact, St. Paul has taught us to draw the reasonable inference that whereas through the first Adam the many, by a law from which they cannot rid themselves, have been made sinners, _à fortiori_ through a "second Adam" the many will be made righteous. The course of our argument, consequently, now demands an inquiry as to the means by which the many will be made (_katastathêsontai_) righteous through the obedience of Jesus Christ. The future tense is particularly to be noticed. As soon as it was shown by the sin of Adam that the natural man is incapable of obedience to the will of God, a preordained dispensation was begun, whereby the natural man is converted into the spiritual man and made fit for immortality. This dispensation was introduced by a _promise_, the terms of which could be understood by Adam and Eve after they had learned that the spirit of evil (in whom is "the power of death") through their disobedience brought death into the world. The promise was given in the words "he (_autos_, _Sept._) shall bruise thy head, and thou shalt bruise his heel" (Gen. iii. 15). Hebrew commentators have, I think, rightly taken this passage in the sense--he ("the seed of the woman") shall bruise thee at thy _ending_, and thou shalt bruise him at his {20} _beginning_. The promise, accordingly, signifies that the power of Satan would prevail _at first_, and for a time, even to putting to death the Son of God (Luke xxii. 53), but that _in the end_ that power would by the Son of God be overcome (Luke x. 18). And since with the victory over the spirit of evil an end is put to evil itself, the promise is, in effect, that Adam and his race shall eventually be exempt from death and evil, and partake of a happy immortality. But in the very next sentence _conditions_ are annexed (Gen. iii. 16-19). Because of the imperfection of the natural man, and his opposition, through the subtlety of Satan and the desires of the flesh, to the will of his Maker, labour and sorrow, pain and _death_, were ordained to be his lot, in order that he may _thereby_ be made meet to partake of the promise. It is by reason of these conditions that the promise becomes, in effect, a _covenant_, in which of necessity two parties are concerned: God on His part promises happiness and immortality, but to be received only on the above-stated conditions; and man's part is to submit to the conditions, as being ordered by a "faithful Creator," and to look in faith for the fulfilment of the promise. Here, then, are all the essentials of a covenant, excepting _surety_ for its fulfilment, which on acknowledged principles of justice might be asked for by man, seeing that he has to satisfy the conditions before he enjoys the benefit. Such security is amply {21} given by God, as will be shown in the sequel of the argument. In short, this covenant admits of being described in terms exactly suited to human covenants, because the providence of God has so ordered these, that, together with other purposes, they answer this, the principal one, of making intelligible the divine covenant. This same covenant might with more exactness be called a _will_, or _testament_, because from its very conditions the benefit it confers cannot be received till after _death_ (see Heb. ix. 16, 17). Also, because this covenanted promise runs through the whole of the Scriptures, they have been appropriately named the Scriptures of the Old Testament and of the New Testament, not, however, as signifying that the Old Testament is superseded by the New, but that it reveals an earlier stage of development of the same covenant. The character and purpose of this covenant began to be unfolded at the threshold of the world's history, on the occasion of offerings being brought to God by Cain and Abel. Abel's offering consisted of "the firstlings of his flock and the fat thereof," and was, therefore, proper for expressing, by visible tokens, the character of the covenant in three essential particulars: first, that it is a covenant of _life_, the animals chosen affording _food_, and that of the choicest kind, for supporting life; secondly, that the covenanted life is entered upon after death, the animals being _slain_ {22} for food; thirdly, that pain and death, although, according to law, consequent upon sin, were ordained, not alone for the judicial punishment of sin, the animals that were slain being "_harmless_," but for rendering the spirit of man meet to partake of the future life. Abel was himself in his death the first witness (_martus_) to this truth, and by the same means many chosen servants of God have been "purified and made white" (Dan. xii. 10). The offering of Cain was also proper for food, but as consisting of "fruits of the ground," it was not, like Abel's, susceptible of any meaning relative to the covenant. Grace was given to Abel to select an offering which, as being significant of the covenant, was accepted by God; but the same grace was not given to Cain. "The Lord had respect to Abel and to his offering: but to Cain and to his offering He had not respect." The narrative goes on to say that because the Lord had not the same respect to Cain's offering as to Abel's, Cain was "very wroth, and his countenance fell," and that on this account he was rebuked. It should be noticed that the terms of the rebuke have no reference to the choice of offering, but to "doing well," implying that Cain's conduct was not "righteous" like that of Abel. To quiet his troubled spirit, he is told that it is God's pleasure that he should stand towards his brother in the relation of protector and ruler. Cain repudiated this relation {23} and slew his brother, acting thus as the unrighteous world, of whom he may be regarded as the representative, have always acted towards God's elect, whom Abel typified. These remarks will afterwards be seen to bear on the general argument. The distinction which God made between the offerings of Cain and Abel, and His express approval of Abel's offering, might serve to make known, at the time and in succeeding generations, the purport of the promise made originally to Adam, and the ordained conditions of its fulfilment. In fact, the special acceptance by God of Abel's offering may be looked upon as the primary institution of _sacrifice_. The researches of men of learning have abundantly shown that the sacrificing of animals was a very ancient and wide-spread religious practice, but have left altogether unexplained how it _originated_, and whence arose the custom of ratifying a covenant between man and man by _killing_ animals; for what reason also the slaying of _innocuous_ and _helpless_ victims came to be the principal act of religious worship among the Jews, and why it was thought among the Gentiles that such sacrifices _pleased_ the gods. These questions do not appear to admit of answers apart from information derived from Scripture. The answers will, I think, be found to be given by what, in reliance on such aid, has been already said, and by what remains to be said, {24} respecting the covenant of immortality. It is quite possible that, as has happened with respect to other practices, that of sacrificing animals was continued long after its original signification ceased to be understood. This may be affirmed of the ratifying of covenants by killing victims (which no sane person nowadays would think of doing), and generally of the sacrifices offered by Gentile nations in honour of their gods, which eventually became mere matters of _custom_, without any distinct appreciation of their intrinsic meaning. In such cases all clue from tradition or history fails, and the explanation of the sources of the practices can be looked for only in the records of Scripture. It might, however, be questioned whether Abel himself, in making his offering, understood that it had the symbolic meanings ascribed to it above. The answer to this inquiry, given on the authority of what is said in Heb. xi. 4, would seem to be that he did so understand it, inasmuch as it is stated that he brought an acceptable offering _by faith_, and, according to Heb. xi. 1, faith may be defined to be an intelligent belief and hopeful expectation of the covenanted life. Also, as bearing on this question, it may be mentioned that in passages of Scripture where Abel is subsequently spoken of (as Matt. xxiii. 85, Heb. xi. 4, 1 John iii. 12), his _righteousness_ is specially referred to. Now, since to do righteousness {25} is to do what is pleasing to God, and, as we are told in Heb. xi. 6, "without faith it is impossible to please God," it follows that Abel's righteousness was the consequence of his faith. In fact, according to St. Paul's teaching, faith and righteousness are by law related to each other as antecedent and consequent (Rom. iii. 27, 28). Consequently we may here draw an inference which forms an essential part of the general argument for immortality. For since we have admitted, as a necessary and self-evident principle, that righteousness is the foundation of immortality, and Scripture presents to us in Abel an instance of the attainment of righteousness by faith, it follows that _faith is a means of partaking of immortality_. This doctrine will be farther treated of in the sequel; but in the mean time it will be well to explain that I consider "righteousness" to consist in obedience by word and deed to the "royal law" according to which, in a perfect social state, every one would do to others as he would that they should do to him. This relation between man and man should, I think, rather be called _righteousness_ than _morality_, because the latter word is derived from _mores_ (manners), and does not etymologically denote "rectitude," whereas the Greek word for righteousness (_dikaiosunê_) refers to the deciding of what is morally right by a judge, and the office of a judge, as respects social relations, is the {26} highest that men are appointed to discharge towards their fellow men. It should also be noticed that the "faith" I am speaking of does not consist in believing what is not understood, which seems to be a psychological contradiction, but in believing _in consequence of_ understanding. "By faith we _understand_ that the worlds [or ages (_tous aiônas_)] were framed by the word of God" (Heb. xi. 3). In short, the faith spoken of in Scripture is the basis of all intellectual, as well as of all moral excellence, and is inclusive of what is usually called "talents," or "gifts." The same covenant, under different typical circumstances, was renewed, first with Noah (Gen. ix. 8-17), and afterwards with Abraham (Gen. xvii. 1-8). The faith of Noah was exhibited not only in building an ark in obedience to God's command, but also in sacrificing clean animals on coming out of the ark. These sacrifices, being offered immediately after the world had been destroyed by the baptism of the Flood, were peculiarly significant of an understanding and acceptance of the covenant of a life to come. After the mention made in the Epistle to the Hebrews of the faith and obedience of which Noah gave evidence by building the ark, it is said of him that "he thereby became heir [inheritor] of the _righteousness_ which is according to faith" (Heb. xi. 7). Such righteousness, we have already argued, entitles the possessor of it to immortality. {27} So also Abraham, when God promised that the land of Canaan should be given to his seed, "builded an altar to the Lord" (Gen. xii. 7, 8), for the purpose, it may be presumed, of sacrificial worship, testifying thus not only belief of the fulfilment of the particular promise, but faith also in the covenanted future life. That Abraham's faith, while he sojourned in Canaan, was directed towards the experience of the world to come, is plainly declared in Heb. xi. 10, where it is asserted that "he looked for a city having foundations, whose builder and maker is God." It was in consequence of such faith that the gift of righteousness was reckoned to him as a _favour_, and "he was called the friend of God" (James ii. 28). Now, the above-mentioned renewal of the covenant was made with Abraham, not solely in respect to his being father of the Hebrew nation, but in respect also to his being typically father of all that believe of all times and nations (compare Gen. xvii. 1-8, with Rom. iv. 11, 16, 17). And all this elect seed receive, in common with their spiritual father, the gift of righteousness through faith--are saved by faith; so that the doctrine that faith is the means whereby the elect are made meet for immortality, which was inferred from the history of Abel, is exemplified in a more comprehensive manner by what is recorded of Abraham. We have argued above that the patriarchs Noah {28} and Abraham testified their belief and acceptance of the covenant of life by sacrifice. But in the patriarchal times the only surety for the fulfilment of the promise was the direct word of God. With the exception of what is said of Melchisedek, who typified a High Priest to come, no mention is made of the mediation of priests till the priesthood of Aaron was regularly constituted. From that time the priest was mediator between God and the people, and in virtue of his office gave assurance of the fulfilment of the covenant to those who, by offering clean animals for sacrifice, signified their acceptance of its conditions. The priest gave such assurance by mediatorially receiving the offerings, and representing, by sprinkling the blood of the slain animals, _the purifying effect of the suffering of death_. After the ordinances of the law had been instituted, Moses said to the people, "I have set before you life and death: choose life" (Deut. xxx. 19). Seeing that no one can escape the death which is the termination of the present life, this choice between life and death necessarily refers to the covenanted life, the fulfilment of the conditions of which secures from death in the world to come. The author of the Apocryphal Book 2 Esdras, who was wiser, I think, than the author of "The Divine Legation of Moses," has shown that he so understood the passage; for after saying (vii. 48, 44), "The day of doom shall be the end of this time, and the {29} beginning of the immortality for to come, wherein corruption is past, intemperance is at an end, infidelity is cut off, righteousness is grown, and truth is sprung up," he adds (in _v._ 59) with reference to this description of the life to come, "This is the life whereof Moses spake unto the people while he lived, saying, Choose thee life, that thou mayest live." Sacrifice remained the chief symbol of religious faith up to the time of that great sacrifice of the Son of God, the acceptance of which by the Father sealed the covenant of everlasting life, and made all other sureties sure. The ground of assurance lies in the fact that Jesus Christ in his life and death went through all the experience whereby _our_ spirits are formed for immortality. "He learned obedience by the things that he suffered" (Heb. v. 8). He was made perfect "through sufferings" (Heb. ii. 10). "He made him to be sin (_hamartian_; compare Gal. iii. 13) for us, who knew no sin, that we might be made the righteousness of God in Him" (2 Cor. v. 21). Joining with these passages that remarkable one in which Christ is spoken of as "a priest who is made according to the power of an indissoluble (_akatalytou_) life" (Heb. vii. 16), it is evident that our community with him in suffering, in death, and, as we have reason to hope, in resurrection, is ample surety to us for the fulfilment of the covenant of immortality. For as death is the dissolution of life, indissoluble {30} life means exemption from death, and is, therefore, identical with immortality. That suffering in the flesh is efficacious, as is argued in the foregoing doctrine, towards doing away with sin, may be maintained on the authority both of St. Paul and St. Peter, the former apostle having said, "He that is dead has been justified from sin" (Rom. vi. 7), and the other, "He that has suffered in the flesh has ceased from sin" (1 Peter iv. 1). But here it is particularly to be noted that this effect is not produced upon _all_ who suffer in the flesh. These apostles are speaking of such as have faith; and it is only when suffering is accompanied by a faith which apprehends the covenant of life, and especially lays hold of the surety for its fulfilment given by the suffering and death of the Son of God, that it avails to free from sin. The elect, who through the grace of God have such faith, are drawn by the perfect love, and the _sympathy_ in its strictest sense, which were manifested by the obedience unto death of Jesus Christ, to follow the example of his obedience, and thereby to attain to righteousness. By this reasoning it is shown, _but only so far as regards the elect_, that "the many are made righteous by the obedience of Christ." It will in the sequel be argued that the death of Christ has another aspect and a wider effect. As there was no more occasion for signifying acceptance of the covenant by sacrifice after the sacrifice {31} of Jesus Christ, that form of religious worship came to an end. Thenceforth faith in the covenant was to be expressed by means of symbols which pointed to the sacrifice made once and for all time on the cross. The ordained symbols are _bread_ and _wine_, taken in the Lord's Supper. The minister of the Gospel has succeeded to the Jewish priest in respect to giving _surety_ officially for the fulfilment of the covenant, and on that account may with propriety be called a _priest_. There is no longer an altar, because the acceptance of the covenant is not, as in the Jewish worship, indicated by sacrifice, but by partaking of _food_ in the forms of bread and wine at "the _table_ of the Lord." The Christian minister, in delivering these symbols to the worshippers, gives, in virtue of his mediating office, sureties for the fulfilment of the covenant of eternal life; the worshipper who partakes of them in faith receives them as such sureties, and looks for the fulfilment of the covenant. No doubt this office should be discharged by a good and wise minister, who has been regularly appointed thereto; but for the efficacy of the ordinance the chief requisite is _faith_ on the part of the recipient--an intelligent faith such as that which has just been mentioned. The Sacrament of the Lord's Supper is justly regarded as the central ordinance of the Christian religion, and, therefore, of necessity has relation to the means whereby immortality is secured. In fact, {32} in each of the four records of its institution given in Scripture, the word "testament" (_diathêkê_) occurs: in St. Matthew and St. Mark we have, "This is my blood of the New Testament," and in St. Luke and 1 Cor. xi., "This cup is the New Testament in my blood." What is the meaning of "testament" in these passages, and how is the testament related to the "blood" of Jesus Christ? It is worthy of notice that these questions have received no special consideration in the recent controversies respecting the Lord's Supper, although in order to arrive at the full signification of that ordinance it is clearly necessary to be able to give answers to them. As far as regards the general meaning of the testament, or covenant, its relation to our immortality, and the surety for its fulfilment given by the blood (i.e. the death) of Jesus Christ, enough, I think, has been said in the foregoing arguments; it remains to inquire, for more complete understanding of the doctrine of the Sacrament, what relations the symbols _bread_ and _wine_ have to the _Body_ and _Blood_ of Christ. "Bread strengthens man's heart," and "wine makes it glad" (Ps. civ. 15). To strengthen the _heart_ is to produce confidence. Now, it may be asserted that confidence and joy, being incorporeal entities, are the same in essence under whatever external conditions they are generated. They are the same whether experienced in consequence of taking {33} bread and wine, or in consequence of understanding and accepting the covenant of life made sure by the body and blood of Christ. Although physical science is wholly incapable of informing us _how_ the _corporeal_ elements bread and wine produce in those who partake of them _feelings_ of strength and gladness (the antecedents and consequents not being in the same category), we can yet understand that the Creator of all things might by His immediate will attach to those substances such effects, not alone for the sake of man's body, but for the higher purpose of thereby informing his spirit that there is cause for confidence and joy in the broken body of the Lord, and his poured-out blood. This view is justified by the language of St. Paul, where he says, speaking of the Son of God, that "all things were created through him and _unto_ him" (_eis auton_, Col. i. 16); from which doctrine it may be inferred that our Lord, having regard to the cognizable effects of bread and wine spoken of by the Psalmist, said of bread, "This is my body," and of wine, "This is my blood," because his body and blood, when "spiritually discerned," have _the very same effects_. But why did Christ say, "This _is_ my body," "This _is_ my blood"? The answer to this question may be given at once by pointing to a rule in Scriptural teaching, according to which the symbol and the thing symbolized are expressed in _identical_ terms. {34} The Bible must have been read to little purpose by those who have not discovered that this characteristic pervades all parts both of the Old and the New Testament. On this principle, when speaking to the Jews, our Lord made no distinction between his own body and the visible temple at Jerusalem, just because his body was the proper habitation of the Holy Spirit antecedently to, and comprehensively of, the dwelling of the Spirit in any temple made with hands. St. Paul also employs like teaching where he says, "They are not all Israel that are of Israel" (Rom. ix. 6), the first "Israel" meaning God's elect of all nations and times, and the other the Jewish people, by whom the elect are typified. The rationale of this mode of teaching appears to be, that we could not speak, or even think, of abstract verities, such as that Jesus Christ is to us the author of life, and strength, and joy, without perceptions and feelings antecedently derived from external realities; and the more closely abstractions are viewed by the intervention of their necessary objective antecedents, the more exact and effective will be our knowledge. I venture here to express the opinion that all the contention and diversity of views that have arisen about Transubstantiation and the Real Presence are referable to the non-recognition of the above-mentioned principle of Scriptural teaching by symbols, and generally to an inability to understand and rightly interpret the {35} concrete and symbolic language of Scripture. Defect of knowledge in this respect has given occasion to many errors. With regard to the doctrine of the Sacrament of the Lord's Supper, I am of opinion that the above-mentioned dogmas, and the forms of worship connected with them, which appear to be rightly designated as _superstitious_, have had the effect of very much keeping out of view the relation of that ordinance to the _covenant_ which, through the death of Jesus Christ, makes immortality sure. Perhaps it should rather be said that the superstitious practices give evidence that "the blood of the new covenant" is not understood. From the preceding discussion I draw the conclusion that our Lord, in saying of the wine, "This is my blood of the New Testament," expressed the doctrine that his blood (signifying his death) is both the _pledge_ and the means, through faith, of partaking of the joy (signified by the wine) of a new and ever-lasting life. The Testament is new because it contains the promise of a future inheritance under better sureties than those of the old covenant of the Law. After having thus considered what the Scriptures say concerning _death_, we have next to inquire what they reveal concerning _resurrection_. As preliminary to this inquiry, it may be remarked that the foregoing arguments relative to Christ's partaking with us in death, are such as point directly to the conclusion that {36} we shall participate with him in resurrection. In St. Paul's teaching (1 Cor. xv. 12-19) Christ's resurrection and the resurrection of the dead are events so necessarily related that, "if the dead rise not, Christ was not raised up." But the fact of Christ's resurrection was substantiated by so many witnesses, who saw him alive after his death, that we may with certainty infer, according to this doctrine, that the dead will rise. It is, however, to be observed that the argument of the apostle in the passage just quoted is expressly addressed to those who have faith and knowledge, and cannot be adduced in proof of the doctrine of the resurrection of all men. For evidence as to the truth of this doctrine recourse must be had to other parts of Scripture. For the present purpose it will suffice to cite two remarkable sayings of our Lord, recorded in St. John's Gospel. He first says, "The hour is coming, and now is, when the dead shall hear the voice of the Son of God: and they that hear shall live" (John v. 25); and then (in _vv._ 28 and 29 of the same chapter) he says, "The hour is coming in which all that are in their graves shall hear his voice, and shall come forth; they that have done good, unto the resurrection of life; and they that have done evil, unto the resurrection of judgment" (_kriseôs_). The first passage refers to a _partial_ resurrection, inasmuch as it makes mention of those only who shall hear the voice of the Son of {37} God, and hearing shall live; whereas the other passage asserts that _all_ who are in sepulchres (_mnêmeiois_) shall hear his voice, and divides these into two classes--those that have done good, who rise to _live_ (the class just before mentioned), and those that have done evil, who rise to be _judged_. The assertion in _vv._ 28 and 29 is, accordingly, a revelation respecting the resurrection of all the dead, and is to be taken as comprehensive of the other; so that the class that will partake of "the resurrection of life" are the same as those of whom it is said in the first passage that they will hear the voice of the Son of God and will _live_. As far as regards the distinction into two classes, this doctrine agrees with that preached by St. Paul, where he affirms that his unbelieving countrymen "themselves allowed that there would be a resurrection of the dead, both of the just and the unjust" (Acts xxiv. 15). It may here be remarked that it is not necessary to infer from its being said in John v. 28, 29, that "all that are in their graves shall hear his voice and come forth," that all will rise _simultaneously_. Rather the separate mention in _v._ 25 of those that hear and live, and especially the assertion that the hour in which _these_ hear is not only coming, but "_now is_," would seem to apply exclusively to the resurrection of "the just," and to indicate that this resurrection is antecedent to that of "the unjust." However, to settle this question, {38} which is a very important one, recourse will now be had to other passages of Scripture. On the principle of regarding, for application in this argument, the _whole_ of the Canonical Scriptures as authoritative, it is legitimate to refer to the Book of Revelation for information respecting the resurrection of the dead. Now, in Rev. xx. 5 we have in express terms, "This is the first resurrection." And again, in the next verse, "Blessed and holy is he that hath part in the first resurrection: on such the second death hath no power." It is evident, therefore, that this is the resurrection of the just, and that those who are thus "blessed and holy" are thenceforth exempt from mortality. This conclusion has a very important bearing on our argument; for, on turning to _v._ 4 of the same chapter, we find that the partakers of this resurrection are described as martyrs "who were beheaded for the witness of Jesus, and for the word of God," and generally as those who "received not the mark of the beast on their forehead and on their hand," which may be interpreted as meaning that by intelligent faith and righteous deeds they overcame their spiritual adversaries. It seems, therefore, allowable to infer that this is the company of those who in Scripture are so often called "the elect," who by suffering, experience, and hope, are in this life "sealed" unto the day of redemption (Rev. vii. 2-8, and Eph. iv. 80). {39} It is, besides, said of these chosen ones that they "lived and reigned with Christ a thousand years," but that "the rest of the dead lived not till the thousand years were finished." It would thus appear that a definite interval of long duration is interposed between the resurrection of the just and the unjust. It is also to be particularly noticed that the seer, speaking of what pertains to that interval of a thousand years during which the spirit of evil is "bound," says that he "saw thrones, and they sat upon them, and judgment was given to them" (Rev. xx. 4). This must refer to the judgment undergone by those who have part in the _first_ resurrection, because the rest of the dead do not rise to be judged till the thousand years are ended. As to the elect being judged, the teaching of St. Paul is very explicit, where he says, identifying himself with the general company of the faithful, "We must all appear before the judgment-seat of Christ; that every one may receive the things done through the body, according to what he hath done, whether good or bad" (2 Cor. v. 10. So also Rom. xiv. 10). It is not expressly said in the passage above quoted who they are who sat on thrones and had judgment given to them; but the information is supplied in Matt. xix. 28, where we read, "Jesus said to them [that is, as the context shows, to Peter and the other apostles], Verily I say to you, that ye who have followed me, in the regeneration when the Son of man shall sit on the {40} throne of his glory, ye also shall sit on twelve thrones judging the twelve tribes of Israel." A like revelation, addressed exclusively to the apostles, is given in Luke xxii. 28-80. "The twelve tribes of Israel" is the symbolic designation of the elect--those that are sealed (see Rev. vii. 3-8). It must now be taken into account that the experience and the deeds of _the present life_ alone determine whether any individual is or is not of the number of the elect. Those only who by the favour of God are justified in this life by works done through faith are reckoned among "the just" who partake of the first resurrection. But Scripture nowhere asserts that their spiritual state differs at their resurrection from what it was at the time of their death; rather, it negatives this assumption by describing their state in the interval as that of "_sleep_." Consequently, not being yet "made perfect," they have need to pass through the judgment just spoken of (compare 1 Cor. iii. 11-15), in order that by the completion of their _spiritual creation_ they might be made meet for immortality. To them, although there is judgment, there is no "_condemnation_," and, therefore, no "second death." Such, it seems to me, is the Scriptural doctrine of immortality, as far as regards _the elect_. Before proceeding to speak of the judgment of the whole world, it will be appropriate to consider here what judgment is abstractedly, and what are its {41} purpose and effect. These questions can only be answered by means of what is matter of human experience, and in terms derived therefrom. Now we all know that kings, judges, and magistrates administer justice and judgment for the purpose of making righteousness and truth prevail, and that for the same end they inflict punishment on the guilty. Whatever is this is judgment, and what is not this is not judgment. The portion of the Scriptures which speaks in plainest terms of the object and effect of judgment is, perhaps, that contained in Psalms xcvi., xcvii., xcviii., and xcix. If the words of these Psalms do not refer to the judgment that is to come upon the earth and the whole world in the future age, they will require to be taken in a non-natural sense. But such a sense is here inadmissible, because consistently with what may be inferred, as said above, from _human experience_ respecting judgment, namely, that its purpose is to cause righteousness and truth to prevail, this Scripture declares in terms expressive of the highest joy and exultation that for this end the world is judged. Let us, therefore, now inquire what Scripture reveals respecting the judgment and immortality of the rest of mankind--those who are not numbered among the elect. First, it is clearly implied in Rev. xx. 5, that they live again at the end of the thousand years. Next, as we have already inferred from the words of {42} Christ recorded in John v. 29, they rise to be _judged_. If, as we have argued, it is needful that even the elect should be judged, much rather must judgment overtake the unbelieving and the unrighteous? We are, moreover, expressly told who is to be the righteous Judge: "The Father hath committed all judgment to the Son" (John v. 22). The sinners who, acting "through ignorance" as agents of Satan, arraigned, condemned, and put to death the blameless Son of God, were not alone guilty, inasmuch as it was appointed that they should make manifest and consummate the wickedness that reigns in the heart of the collective world. For this reason Jesus Christ, in fulfilment of a just retribution, is ordained to be Judge of all the world, and of Satan also. Respecting the _outward means_ by which judgment is executed on the ungodly, many things seem to be said in the Book of Revelation; but from being expressed in symbolic language, they are generally "hard to be understood." I shall make no attempt to give explanations of the details of this symbolism, such an inquiry not being necessary for my present purpose; but a few remarks on the contents of the Apocalypse which have a general relation to the purpose and effect of judgment may here be appropriately introduced as bearing on the question of immortality. In the first place, it may be stated that its prophetic language and symbols resemble in so many {43} particulars what we meet with in various parts of the prophecies of the Old Testament, that it might almost be regarded as an epitome of these prophecies. This view is supported by the announcement made in Rev. x. 7, which affirms that, "in the days of the voice of the seventh trumpet, when he shall begin to sound, the mystery of God shall be finished, according to the gospel He declared (_os euêggelise_) unto His servants the prophets" (see also Rev. xxii. 6). It is here to be particularly remarked that after the sounding of six trumpets severally significant of judgment, it is proclaimed that the mystery of God would be finished at the sounding of the seventh and last, this consummation having been antecedently made known as a _gospel_ to the Old Testament prophets. This text accordingly agrees with the tenor of the argument previously adduced respecting the final effect of judgment in establishing the reign, so much to be desired, of truth and righteousness. At the end of the judgment "the temple of God is opened in heaven, and there is seen in His temple the ark of His covenant" (Rev. xi. 19). This is the covenant of immortality, which, having been originally made (as has already been indicated) with Adam after his transgression, was afterwards renewed with Noah and with Abraham, was represented by symbols and proclaimed orally by Moses in the wilderness, and, finally, was confirmed by the sacrifice of Jesus Christ. {44} Equally remarkable is another revelation, which tells us that the elect, the one hundred and forty-four thousand who have been made perfect by the experience they have gone through in the thousand years of the first resurrection, are joined with the Son of God in the execution of the general judgment. In Rev. xix. 14, it is said that "the armies in heaven followed him upon white horses, clothed in fine linen, white and clean." This clothing proves that the attendant army consisted of the saints made perfect in righteousness, as will be evident by comparing _vv._ 7 and 8 of the same chapter. In _v._ 15 it is asserted respecting "The Word of God," that "he shall rule the nations with a rod of iron;" and he says himself, speaking of his faithful followers, "To him that overcometh and keepeth my works unto the end will I give power over the nations; and he shall rule them with a rod of iron" (Rev. ii. 26, 27). Also we have in Psalm cxlix. 6-9, "Let a two-edged sword be in their hand, to execute vengeance upon the nations, punishments upon the peoples; to bind their kings with chains, and their rulers with fetters of iron; to execute upon them the judgment written: this honour have all His saints." Moreover, St. Paul writes to the Corinthians: "Do ye not know that the saints shall judge the world?" "Know ye not that we shall judge angels?" In short, the doctrine of Scripture on this prerogative of the saints is very explicit. {45} Again, it is uniformly affirmed in Scripture that every one will be judged "according to his works." Of course, "words" are included in "works;" for our Lord said expressly, "Every idle word that men shall speak, they shall give account thereof in the day of judgment; for by thy words thou shalt be justified, and by thy words thou shalt be condemned" (Matt. xii. 86, 87). It would seem that the judgment, as being conducted by _external_ means, takes account of human _thoughts_ only so far as their consequences are manifested by overt deeds and spoken words. It is not the less true, according to the doctrine of the Lord himself (in Mark iv. 22, and Luke viii. 17), that in the day of judgment all secret and hidden things will be revealed. The words in St. Mark, "neither was anything kept secret but in order that (_hina_) it should come abroad," seem expressly to indicate the relation in which things hidden in the present age stand to the revelations of that day. St. Paul also writes to the Romans, speaking of them who have not received the law by direct communication: "They show the work of the law written in their hearts, their conscience bearing them witness, and their thoughts, one with another, accusing, or also excusing, in the day when God shall judge the secrets of men, according to my gospel, through Jesus Christ" (Rom. ii. 15, 16). (This, I think, should be the translation of the passage.) It may be noticed that {46} here again "gospel" is mentioned in connection with "judgment." Now, the very terms, "judgment according to works," imply that the works brought into judgment are not all equally bad, and that there may be both "good and bad;" which also may be inferred from the passage just quoted from the Epistle to the Romans. In fact, it is not too much to assume that all the deeds and experience of the present life are contributory in different ways to the final purpose of the judgment. We have already argued, in accordance with what is said in 2 Cor. v. 10, that the saints will be judged according to their works, and from 1 Cor. iii. 11-15, we learn that their works will be tried by fire, but they themselves will be saved, "yet so as by fire." We have now to enter upon the important inquiry as to whether Scripture reveals an analogous dispensation with respect to the rest of mankind. Hard as it may be for us to conceive by what means the deeds and experience of all men, the living and the dead, will be brought under review in the day of judgment, that so it will be is undoubtedly the teaching of Scripture. Our understanding of this wonderful event may perhaps be assisted by taking into account what St. Paul said to the Athenians: "In Him we live, and move, and have our being;" whence it may be inferred that all our works and {47} words, and even feelings and thoughts, are known to God. With reference to this question, it would, I think, be legitimate to call to our aid the knowledge of the external creation, which has been so largely extended in the present day. After long attention given to the acquisition of such knowledge, I seem to see that it points to the conclusion that all the forces of nature are resident in a universal aetherial medium, extending through all space, and pervading all visible and tangible substances, by the intervention of which all power is exerted, whether it be by the immediate will of God, or mediately, by that of angels or of men. (I assume that there can be no exertion of power apart from the will and consciousness of an agent.) Consequently the Spirit of the Universe must be cognizant of every exertion of power and of its effects. To this consideration another of peculiar significance is to be added. The faculty which we possess to a limited extent, depending on bodily conditions and organization, of _remembering_ the consequences of exerted power, whether as operating ourselves, or being operated upon, must be conceived of as pertaining, without any limitation, to the Creator of the aetherial substance and the Source of all power. In this manner it seems possible to understand how all actions and all events may be written down (speaking metaphorically) in the Book of God's _remembrance_, and so be brought into judgment. {48} The universality and the character of the future judgment are declared in Rev. xx. 11-13, with particular reference to the presence and majesty of "One who sat on a great white throne," who, doubtless, is God the Father, the Creator of heaven and earth. The seer says in this passage, "I saw the dead, small and great, stand before God; and the books were opened: and another book was opened, which is the book of life: and the dead were judged out of those things which were written in the books, according to their works." The mention made of "the books" indicates that what is here said of the general judgment pertains exclusively to God the Father, by whose almighty power and omniscience, as I have endeavoured to show in the preceding paragraph, all the deeds and experience of the present life are held in remembrance to be brought under judgment. But it would be an error to suppose that this general judgment is different from that the process and results of which, as effected through the Son of man and his attendant armies, are symbolically described in previous parts of the Apocalypse. The judgment was ordained by decree of the Father, and prearranged by His wisdom, and in accordance therewith it is executed by the Son, who, apparently on this account, speaks thus of himself: "To him that overcometh will I give to sit with me in my throne, as I also overcame and sat with my Father in His throne" (Rev. iii. 21). This throne {49} which the Son shares with the Father may be presumed to be the seat of power exercised in judgment (compare Rev. ii. 26, 27). Why "the book of life" is mentioned in connection with the books from the contents of which the dead are judged, will be shown in the sequel of the argument. There are other considerations relating to the future judgment which it is necessary to enter into in order to complete the argument for the immortality of all men. We live in a world in which sorrow and pain and death abound everywhere and at all times, and although these are actual consequences of sin, inasmuch as they would be non-existent if sin did not antecedently exist, it is not the less true that the _law_ which in the present time of imperfection connects suffering with sin, tends in its operation towards bringing on eventually a state of perfection. Thus there is a final cause for that law. I have already (page 14) illustrated this doctrine by reference to the process whereby the actual condition and adornment of this earth were elaborated by the operation of physical laws out of a state of darkness and chaos. This view is corroborated by the noticeable fact that suffering in this life, whether caused by the three scourges, war, pestilence, and famine, or what we call accident, or by the injustice and cruelty of men, by no means in proportion to guilt, since even the innocent thereby sometimes suffer. Now, as all {50} human deeds and experience are taken cognizance of in the great day of judgment, it must be admitted that sufferings of the kind just mentioned will be included in the account. In what way, and with what effect, will, I think, be to some extent indicated by the following considerations. Besides the principle of animal life (_psyche_) which man partakes of in common with the creatures of a lower order, there is within him a spirit (_pneuma_) which is being formed, educated, and built up, all the time that it is the tenant of a corporeal "vessel." On account of this law of progressiveness, the spirit of a child, as we can all see, differs in its feelings and its understanding from that of a man. In short, spirit perfected is the principle of immortal life. Now, during our waking hours our spirits are replete with consciousness and thought, which, however, at the moment of falling asleep depart from us. The spirit is then taken into the keeping of the angels of God, to be by them restored into its place in the body at the moment of waking up and of return to consciousness. In like manner at death the spirits of all men, good and wicked, pass into the custody of the Creator of spirits, to wait for the return to consciousness by being on the morning of their resurrection again united with body,--not, however, with the same natural body, but with a spiritual body (1 Cor. xv. 44). The union of spirit with bodily essence appears to be a {51} necessary condition of human consciousness, and to have been ordained for the special reasons that we are destined to live hereafter not only individually, but in _social_ relations also, and that only through the medium of body is there communion between one man's spirit and that of another. This being understood, it is next to be observed that in the forming and building up ("edification") of spirit, the human _will_ is concerned, and that, according to a man's choice of action, his spirit may be educated for being good or for being wicked, may be sanctified or defiled. There is, in short, no act or experience in human life which in this respect is indifferent. But what the spirit is thus made during its passage through this life, such it is when it is taken into the hands of its Creator, and such, as we may conclude from the teaching of Scripture and from its having in the mean time existed apart from body, it will be, with all its imperfections, on the day of its resurrection. It has already been maintained that, because of imperfection, it is necessary that even the elect should be judged, to the end that by this means their spirits may be made perfect. But our concern now is with the effect of judgment on those who are not of the number of the elect. For the purpose of illustrating what I am about to say on this head, I shall begin with making an application of the argument in a particular instance. {52} I have recently seen it stated, among the news of the day, that it is the practice of a barbarous African king to cut off the heads of twelve or more of his subjects, merely to pay a compliment to a distinguished visitor. Are we to think that this transaction both begins and ends here? Although we have no ground for asserting that the victims in this case are to be counted among God's elect, inasmuch as they must be supposed to be devoid of the faith and righteousness which are necessary to constitute a title to that high privilege, we may yet believe that the bodily suffering they endured was contributory to the formation of their spirits for their future destiny. If even those who have "understanding"--elect saints--have undergone sufferings and been "beheaded" in order that thus they might be "purified and made white," (compare Dan. xi. 33-35, and xii. 10, with Rev. xx. 4), why should we not believe that the sufferings of those poor Africans, who are equally children of God, had like effect? That suffering is in this manner efficacious is proved by the sacrifice of the Son of God on the cross, who, after having proved by his miracles that he had all human ills under control, _voluntarily_ submitted to be made perfect by enduring shame and pain, that thus he might both exemplify and justify the ways of God in the creation of immortal spirits. This sacrifice is a full and sufficient explanation of all the evil in the world. When, therefore, in the time of the {53} resurrection of the unjust the slayer and the slain, in this instance, appear before the judgment-seat of God, and are condemned, as not being among those who are saved in the first resurrection, to undergo the second death, is it not reasonable to conclude that the tribulation and pain of that event will fall much more heavily on the murderer than on those he slew, and that the punishment and sufferings that have still to be endured in order that the final purpose of the judgment may be accomplished, will be inflicted with far greater severity on him than on them? (See on this point what is said concerning the future judgment in the Wisdom of Solomon vi. 3-6.) On this principle many apparent anomalies in the present age of the world admit of explanation. Why, for instance, is so large a proportion of mankind condemned, irrespective of their deserts, to be poor, and to labour with their hands in anxiety for the maintenance of themselves and their families? We have reason from Scripture to say that such conditions of life, if united with the _faith_ that looks for better things to come, may be counted among means ordained by God for preparing the spirits of His elect for their destined inheritance ("Hate not laborious work, neither husbandry, which the Most High hath ordained" [Ecclesiasticus vii. 15]). And where such faith is absent, may we not still say that conditions of the present life to which the great mass of mankind are {54} subject must be contributory to forming their spirits for their future existence? Leaving out of consideration who are the elect, and who not, which God only knows, can we think that the patience of the labourer and artisan, the endurance of the seafaring man, and the devotedness of the soldier, who at the call of duty, and in spite of the promptings of self-preservation, exposes himself to almost certain death on the field of battle, have no relation to their future destiny? As regards, especially, the spirit of self-sacrifice of the soldier, so opposed to all the calculations of personal interest, it seems to me that the desire of glory, or the expectation of reward, will not wholly account for it, but rather that it is indicative of there being in the warrior's breast an undefined conviction that he better fulfils the purpose of life by braving a painful death than by living at home in ease. It is worthy of remark that although in Scripture war is spoken of as a calamity, the occupation of a soldier is nowhere condemned, but is rather commended on account of its disciplinary effect and abstractedness from the affairs of life (see 2 Tim. ii. 3, 4). It should be observed that the different kinds of human experience adverted to above are all supposed to stand apart from personal acts done in violation of the dictates of _conscience_. Such acts will doubtless be tried by the course of the general judgment, and will have effect in the condemnation of the offenders, and {55} in punishment awarded according to the guiltiness of their deeds. The calamities of human life may be put generally under the two heads of "tribulation" and "slaughter"--different kinds of sorrow and trouble, and different kinds of death. These constitute the groaning and travailing of the whole creation unto the time being (_a chri tou nun_), spoken of by St. Paul in Rom. viii. 22 and called in St. Mark xiii. 8, the beginnings of sorrows (_ôdinôn_). But in the time of the world to come, the same forms of suffering have their consummation and ending. In Rev. vii. 14, mention is made of "_the_ great tribulation," and at the same time of "a countless multitude who come out of it." This can be no other than that "great tribulation" respecting which our Lord said, according to St. Matt. xxiv. 21, that it will be "such as was not since the beginning of the world to this time, _nor ever shall be_," and according to St. Mark xiii. 19, that "those days shall be affliction such as was not from the beginning of the creation which God created unto this time, _neither shall be_." The identity of the events spoken of in the Gospels and in the Apocalypse may also be inferred from the words _cheimônos_ (tempest-time) and _sabbatô_ (on the sabbath) contained in Matt. xxiv. 20, the former referring to the storm of indignation and wrath which proceeds from "the Lamb" when he comes to execute Judgment, and the latter to the time in which the {56} judgment takes place, which is designated the sabbath, or seventh day, as following upon the termination of the present age of the world, and also as being that sabbath of which, as said in Luke vi. 5, "the Son of man is Lord." Again, in proof of the doctrine that the process, or effect, of the general judgment is characterized in Scripture as "slaughter," Isa. xxxiv. 1-6 may be cited, it being said in that passage that "the indignation of the Lord is upon all nations," that "he hath delivered them to the slaughter," and in connection therewith that "all the host of heaven shall be dissolved, and the heaven shall be rolled together as a scroll" (compare Rev. vi. 18-14). Of the same import is the prophecy in Rev. xiv. 14-20, at the end of which the treading of "the great winepress of the wrath of God" is described in terms closely agreeing with those in Isa. lxiii. 1-4. We have, besides, the remarkable passage, Rev. xix. 17-21, which represents the fowls of heaven as being called together to feast on the flesh of the slain, after great slaughter had been wrought by "the sharp sword" which proceeds out of the mouth of him who is called "The Word of God." This sword represents the cutting and destructive effect of the words of judgment and condemnation which the Son of God will pronounce on sinners when he comes to judge the whole world. It is not necessary for my purpose to interpret particularly the symbolism {57} contained in the passages just quoted; it suffices to draw from them the general inference that, as regards _all_ men, trouble and pain and death in the present age of the world are the beginnings of an [oe]conomy for forming spirits for immortality, which is destined to be consummated in the age to come. To complete the argument from Scripture it only remains now to take into consideration those passages which expressly reveal the effect of the general judgment, and to ascertain what relation the revelations have to the question of immortality. These passages are of two kinds, some being composed entirely of symbolic language requiring interpretation, while others are expressed in terms that may be readily understood. The former must be supposed to admit of being interpreted consistently with the plain meaning of the other kind. Accordingly, for the purpose above mentioned, I proceed now to offer an interpretation of Rev. xx. 11-15, this passage evidently giving a synoptical account, in symbolic terms, of the process and the effect of the general judgment. I have already adverted (p. 48) to the contents of _vv._ 11 and 12, so far as they refer to the Person of the Judge, and to His judging the dead, according to their works, "out of the things written in the _books_." "The great _white_ throne" (_v._ 11) is evidently the seat of righteous judgment. The inspired writer, in order {58} to account for his seeing in vision the dead, "small and great, standing before the throne," reveals, besides, that "the sea gave up the dead that were in it, and Death and Hades gave up the dead that were in them" (_v._ 13). Now, the context hardly allows of taking "the sea" here in its literal objective sense, requiring rather the interpretation that the natural sea symbolizes by its invisible depths the incognizable state of the dead before resurrection. In the "new heaven and earth," which is the end of all creation, "sea exists no longer" (Rev. xxi. 1). Hades, as apparently might be inferred from the proper sense of the word, signifies that invisible state of departed spirits which, as just said, is symbolized as being concealed in the depths of "the sea," and also, as I have already pointed out, has to death a necessary relation of sequence ("Hades followed with him" [Rev. vi. 8]). This explains why Death and Hades are represented as a conjoint power having possession of the dead. In Rev. i. 18, as well as in Rev. vi. 8, they are mentioned in close connection, and in the latter passage power is said to be given to them in common. I take occasion to make some remarks here on 1 Peter iii. 19, as the sense of this passage might be thought to be contradictory to the meaning assigned above to Hades. It affirms that "in spirit Christ went and preached to the spirits in custody {59} (_en phylakê_)." Now, the literal meaning of the concrete terms, "went and preached" (_poreutheis ekêruxen_), is _excluded_ by "in spirit" going before, and they consequently require an abstract interpretation. It has already been argued (p. 50) that the word "custody" applies to departed spirits in the sense of their being in the _keeping_ of the Creator of spirits; whence it follows that "spirits in custody" and "spirits in Hades" have the same meaning. But neither of these expressions signifies anything as to _locality_, for the simple reason that locality cannot be predicated of spirit apart from body. The abstract interpretation of the passage of St. Peter may, I think, be reached by the following argument. The word _ekêruxen_ above cited is not that ordinarily used with respect to preaching the Gospel, and therefore it is the more to be noticed that where Noah is called "a preacher of righteousness" (2 Peter ii. 5), the Greek word is _kêruka_. May we not hence infer that Noah, by "the spirit of Christ" which was in him (compare 1 Peter i. 11), preached to the unbelieving and "disobedient" of his day, and that their spirits, although the world in which they lived was so long since destroyed by the Flood, are, together with all other departed spirits, still in God's custody, to be hereafter raised up and judged? We are farther informed respecting Noah's preaching, which consisted apparently of deeds rather than of words, that "by preparing an ark for the {60} saving of his house, he condemned the world, and became heir of the righteousness which is according to faith" (Heb. xi. 7). We have now to inquire what interpretation may be given to the symbolic language (in Rev. xx. 14) which affirms that "Death and Hades were cast into the lake of fire," and that "this is the second death, the lake of fire." The first mention of the lake of fire occurs in Rev. xix. 20, where it is described as "burning with brimstone," and both "the beast," and "the false prophet" associated with him (_ho met autou_), are said to be "cast alive" into this lake. But the rest (_oi loipoi_), namely, "the kings of the earth and their armies, gathered together to make war against him who sat on the horse and against his army," were slain by the sword that proceeds out of his mouth, that is, by the sharp and searching words of righteousness and truth, whereby he, "The Word of God," judges and pronounces condemnation in the last day (compare John xii. 48). In Rev. xx. 7-10, we are farther told that Satan, after being let loose from prison at the end of the thousand years when "the rest of the dead" live again (v. 5), and after collecting together all the _risen_ nations of the earth, "the number of whom is as the sand of the sea" (v. 8), leads them to their destruction in battle against the God of heaven, and is himself "cast into the lake of fire and brimstone, where are the beast {61} and the false prophet" (v. 10). Consequently, "Satan," who is opposed to God the Father, the God of heaven, "the beast," which, as signifying the spirit of the world, is opposed to the Holy Spirit, and "the false prophet," who is the symbolic representative of all _anti-Christian_ power objectively opposed to the Son of God, are all three cast into a lake of fire "_burning with brimstone_." But of Death and Hades it is only said that they were cast into a lake of fire. Their being cast into the depths of "a lake" signifies that they become incognizable entities, and "lake of fire" indicates that they remain such by an irreversible law, fire being the symbol of force of law (see Deut. xxxiii. 2). For this reason "the lake of fire" is put in apposition (in _v._ 14) with "the second death," which is the extinction of death. Now, Satan, the beast, and the false prophet, being regarded as _personal_ existences motived by _will_, and in that respect unlike Death and Hades, are cast not simply into a lake of fire, but into a lake burning with brimstone, which apparently signifies that from the time these "adversaries" cease to have cognizable existence, their antecedent power and influence will be regarded by those who were once subject to them with antipathy and abhorrence, so that any return to the same subjection will (as we say) be morally impossible. When in the end God has become "all in all," no antagonism remains; all {62} enemies have been subdued. Any one who is unwilling to accept the foregoing interpretation might reasonably be asked in what other way he can explain why, of all created things, _brimstone_ is specially mentioned with reference to this "mystery" (see Rev. xvii. 5, 16). In the last verse of the passage under consideration we have, "And if any one (_ei tis_) was not found written in the book of life, he was cast into the lake of fire" (v. 15). It is to be observed that the lake of fire is not here said to be burning with brimstone. This sentence must accordingly receive an interpretation analogous to that given above with respect to Death and Hades. When the final judgment has had complete effect, there will no longer be objective existence of any whose names are not in the book of life, because all will have been made meet for the inheritance of life. For this reason "the book of life" is mentioned (in _v._ 12) in immediate connection with the books containing the records according to which the judgment is transacted. I am well aware that the preceding interpretations do not accord with views entertained by many in the present day. I remember to have heard a sermon on the text, "This is the second death," in the course of which the preacher did not once advert to the word "This," but gave a description, the most terrible his imagination could supply, of what he judged to be the second {63} death. We find revealed in Scripture respecting "the terrors of the Lord"--the anguish and tribulation, the slaughter and destruction, proceeding from His wrath in the day of judgment--quite enough to deter sinners from going on in sin, without gratuitously adding the doctrine of the perpetuity of evil, the preaching of which seems to have the effect of hindering the belief and expectation of the impending realities of that great day. Besides, it may well be asked how such preaching can be reconciled with the Gospel revelations, stated in language devoid of symbol, which are contained in Rev. xxi.; to which I shall afterwards have occasion to call attention. But, first, it will be necessary to inquire what is the doctrine of Scripture respecting future "punishment" and "torment." On proceeding to this part of the argument it will be proper to revert to a principle which has already been admitted as self-evident (p. 9), namely, that a state of perfect righteousness and a happy immortality are so essentially and necessarily related that one cannot subsist without the other. It is, however, to be said that this doctrine is nowhere expressed in such words in Scripture. In fact, the abstract terms, "essentially and necessarily related," are altogether unlike any Scriptural mode of expression. Yet it may be that the truth which we think we understand when we express it in such terms may admit of being {64} _extracted_ in a more definite form from the concrete language of Scripture; and, in order that our argument for immortality may be shown to rest entirely on a Scriptural foundation, I shall now endeavour to show that this is the case with respect to the above-stated doctrine, by citing and discussing various passages of the Old and New Testament. In the first place, I remark that righteousness and salvation, righteousness and peace, are so often and in such manner mentioned together in the word of God, that we may thence infer that, according to a law of the Divine (Economy, personal righteousness is a condition necessarily antecedent to salvation (safety) and peace (see Ps. xxiv. 5, and lxxxv. 7-18; Isa. xlv. 7, 8, xlvi. 18, li. 5, lxii. 1, and many like passages). For, on the other hand, it is twice expressly declared that God has said, "There is no peace to the wicked" (Isa. xlviii. 22, and lvii. 21). So in Rev. xiv. it is affirmed respecting sinners (who are comprehensively described as those who worship the beast and his image, and receive the mark of his name on the forehead or the hand--in their beliefs or their deeds) that "they have no rest day nor night" (_vv._ 9 and 11). Of the same sinners it is also declared that "they shall drink of the wine of the wrath of God, which is poured out without mixture into the cup of his indignation; and shall be tormented with fire and brimstone in the presence of the holy angels, and in {65} the presence of the Lamb" (v. 10). The fire of the torment is the operation of the holy law of righteousness which they have broken, and the brimstone by the offensiveness of its smoke represents the self-condemnation and reproach of conscience with which they are tormented when their sins are laid bare in the presence of the holy angels and of the _Lamb_, who by reason of their sins was slain. Lastly, we are told that "the smoke of their torment ascendeth up for ever and ever." The general signification of "smoke," regarded as a symbol, appears to be, effect or consequence. Thus, in the remarkable symbol of "a smoking furnace" seen in vision by Abraham (Gen. xv. 17), the fire of the furnace may represent the operation of the law, and the smoke may symbolize "the abounding" of the sins of mankind consequent upon that operation (see Rom. v. 20; also compare 2 Esdras iv. 48). But in the passage before us we have "smoke of torment," of which smoke it is said that it "ascends up for ever and ever," signifying, it would seem, the perpetuity of the _effect_ of the torment. This interpretation accordingly agrees with that previously given (p. 61) relative to "the lake of fire burning with brimstone." There is, however, this difference to be noted, that whereas the present passage relates especially to the effect of the _pain and torment_ attendant upon the _process_ of being judged, the other speaks of the effect of the second _death_ to {66} which the wicked, after being tried by the judgment, are condemned. The portion of Scripture contained in Matt. xxv. 31-46, gives, concerning the awards to be respectively adjudged to the righteous and unrighteous, and the final consequences of the judgment, certain revelations, symbolically expressed, which are made by the Lord himself, the future Judge. In order to complete the argument from Scripture respecting the effect of judgment, we must endeavour to interpret these revelations. "When the Son of man shall come in his glory, and all the holy angels with him, he will sit on the throne of his glory: and all nations will be gathered before him: and he will separate them one from another, as a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats; and he will place the sheep on his right hand, and the goats on his left" (_vv._ 31-33). We are thus told that all of all nations will come into the presence of the Judge, and that he will separate them into two portions, as distinct the one from the other as sheep are from goats. From what is said farther on we gather that one portion are "the just" (_oi dikaioi_, _v._ 37), and the other the unjust; but no mention is made of a particular process of separation. Consequently there is nothing here which contradicts the conclusion before arrived at (p. 38), that the just are separated from the unjust by partaking of the first resurrection; rather, that conclusion is in {67} accordance with this revelation respecting the place of honour "on the right hand" being assigned to the just, and their being prepared to receive it when the whole assembly, just and unjust, are gathered together before the Judge. In _v._ 34, as also in _v._ 40, the Judge is called "the King" (_ho Basileus_), forasmuch as he is "the faithful and true" One, who "in righteousness judges and makes war," and to whom belongs in a special manner the title of "King of kings and Lord of lords" (see Rev. xix. 11, 16). We have next to consider the statements of the grounds on which the awards are made, which are very remarkable. "Then shall the King say to them on his right hand, Come, ye blessed of my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world. For I was hungry, and ye gave me meat; I was thirsty, and ye gave me drink; I was a stranger, and ye took me in; naked, and ye clothed me; I was sick, and ye visited me; I was in prison, and ye came to me. Then shall the righteous answer him, saying, Lord, when saw we thee hungry, and fed thee? or thirsty, and gave thee drink? When saw we thee a stranger, and took thee in? or naked, and clothed thee? Or when saw we thee sick, or in prison, and came unto thee? And the King shall answer and say to them, Verily I say to you, Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me" {68} (_vv._ 84-40). What is chiefly noteworthy in these words is, that the Judge identifies himself with suffering humanity, and accounts as "brethren" even "the least" of those that suffer, having, when he "dwelt among us," participated in the toils and afflictions to which sinful man is subject (although "in him was no sin)," and submitted in the end to the shame and pain of dying on the cross, although he had shown by his miracles that he had power over death and all the ills of humanity. As is written in Isaiah liii. 4, "He hath borne _our_ griefs and carried _our_ sorrows." This the Son of God voluntarily took upon himself out of love and compassion towards us, knowing that, by ordinance of his Father, the Creator of spirits, "we must through many tribulations enter into the kingdom of God" (Acts xiv. 22), and be made heirs of immortality, and that consequently we had need of such assurance of obtaining the appointed inheritance as that which is given by his partaking with us of life, death, and resurrection (see what is said on this part of the subject in p. 29). Besides this, the sympathy of Jesus Christ with human suffering, which was also shown by his miracles of healing, is specially a reason for giving _practical_ proof, by acts of benevolence and mercy towards our fellow men, that we partake of the same spirit. It is with reference to such _outward_ evidence of faith and righteousness, that the decision of the Judge, given {69} in the passage above quoted, is pronounced. It seems, too, from the questions put to the Judge by the company of the righteous, and the answer they received, that their acts of kindness and mercy, done in humility and faith, were accepted by the Judge, out of his sympathy and community with the sufferers, as done to himself, although the doers had not had previous knowledge or expectation that their good deeds would be so accepted. The sentence pronounced on the unrighteous, and the reasons for it, are thus stated in _vv._ 41-45: "Then shall he say also to them on the left hand, Depart from me, ye cursed, into the [oe]onian fire (_to pur to aiônion_, i.e. the fire of judgment in the future _aiôn_) prepared for the devil and his angels: for I was hungry, and ye gave me no meat; I was thirsty, and ye gave me no drink; I was a stranger, and ye took me not in; naked, and ye clothed me not; sick, and in prison, and ye visited me not. Then shall they also answer him, saying, Lord, when saw we thee hungry, or athirst, or a stranger, or naked, or sick, or in prison, and did not minister unto thee? Then shall he answer them, saying, Verily, I say to you, inasmuch as ye did it not to one of the least of these, ye did it not to me." It should be noticed that the terms of this award are the exact contraries of those of the award to the righteous. On the one hand, the King says, "Come, ye blessed of my Father, inherit {70} the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world;" on the other, he says, "Depart from me, ye cursed, into the [oe]onian fire prepared for the devil and his angels;" and the account of what the Judge further says to the unrighteous, and of what they say to him, although somewhat briefer than that relating to the righteous, is made up of exactly opposite particulars. On this principle, since the decision respecting the righteous is pronounced on the grounds of positive works of righteousness done in humility and faith, that respecting the unrighteous has regard only to the _omission_ to do such works through presumption and unbelief. The same exhibition of opposite circumstances and qualities, and the same principle of condemnation for sins of omission exclusively of those of commission, are observable in the two other symbolic representations contained in the same chapter--the parable of the ten virgins, and the parable of the talents. In short, the general purport of the chapter is to indicate, that in the sight of the righteous Judge sins of omission, not less than sins of commission, demand condemnation and punishment; the reasons for which appear to be that both kinds are equally violations of the royal law, "Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself" (James ii. 8), and perfect obedience to this law is the necessary foundation of a _common_ immortality. It only remains now to speak of the final issue of {71} the judgment stated thus in _v._ 46: "And these shall go away into eternal punishment, but the righteous into external life." It must be admitted that the first clause of this sentence, taken as it is usually taken, expresses the perpetuity of evil, inasmuch as "punishment" is an evil. But after this has been conceded, there is still something more to be said on this doctrine. It is evident from the context that by "these" is meant the ungodly just before spoken of, who, having shown, by their neglecting to give proof of love towards their neighbours, that the love of God is not in them (see 1 John iv. 20), are counted as enemies, and as such must be punished. For there is no neutral position: all who do not obey the commands of Christ are opposed to him, and all that is opposed to him is destined to be brought under subjection. Further, it is to be noticed that although the final decision is expressed generally in accordance with the before-mentioned principle of employing exactly opposite terms relatively to the righteous and the wicked, here the opposite of "eternal life" is "eternal punishment," and not "eternal death," the latter expression being nowhere found in Scripture. May it not hence be argued that, as among men the punishment of the guilty has not for its purpose the infliction of pain and penalty, but rather is the means employed to the end that laws may be obeyed, so the end of divine punishment is for correction, and for {72} giving effect to and establishing the law of universal righteousness. If it should hence be inferred that the word "eternal" is applied to future punishment with reference to that permanence of _effect_ which, as has already been indicated (p. 65), is symbolically represented by the perpetual ascent of "the smoke of torment," against this inference it might reasonably be urged that "eternal" ought to be taken in the same sense relatively to the "punishment" of the wicked, as relatively to the "life" of the righteous, and eternity is here predicated of the one just as of the other. Now, although this reasoning appears to be irrefragable, the additional arguments from Scripture which I am about to adduce will, I think, show that there must be some other way of regarding the doctrine of future punishment, which, although not inconsistent with that to which the foregoing interpretation of Matt. xxv. 46 has conducted, differs from it either as to point of view or comprehensiveness. In the first place, it is to be observed that in our Lord's discourses doctrine was very generally taught by parables and symbolic language, which required to be interpreted in order that the abstract and spiritual truths thereby conveyed might be understood. (This remark applies to the whole of the passage, Matt. xxv. 31-46, brought under review in the foregoing discussion.) In Mark iv. 34, it is said that "without a parable he spake not to them," that is, {73} to the multitude, and that "in private he explained all things to his disciples." Being asked by the disciples, when he was preaching to a great multitude assembled together on the sea-shore to hear him, why he spake to them in parables, he answered, "Because it is given to you to know the mysteries of the kingdom of heaven, but to them it is not given. For whosoever hath, to him it shall be given, and he shall have more abundance; but whosoever hath not, from him shall be taken away even that he hath. Therefore speak I to them in parables, because seeing they see not, and hearing they hear not, neither do they understand" (Matt. xiii. 10-13). It is here affirmed that although parables from their very character are expressed in terms which the use of the senses renders intelligible, there are those who do not or will not understand them, who for this reason, on the principle of not giving to those who have not, are spoken to only in parables, so that they continue in ignorance. As every effect or consequence implies the antecedence of the _purpose_ of an agent, with respect to this consequence we find it stated in Luke viii. 10, that our Lord expressly addressed the disciples in these words: "Unto you it is given to know the mysteries of the kingdom of God, but to the rest in parables, _that seeing they may not see, and hearing they may not understand_." To a selected few is granted the favour of being able to discern, _through the objective sense_ of {74} parables, the interior signification whereby mysteries of the kingdom of God are revealed, whilst from the rest--the multitude--although the objective sense is the same to them as to the others, the knowledge of the mysteries is withheld. This is evidently a dispensation analogous to that according to which, as Christ declared, "Many are called, but few are chosen" (Matt. xxii. 14). It is also in accordance with views expressed in a previous part of this Essay respecting the distinction between "the elect" and the rest of mankind. It is further to be considered that the Lord promised the apostles that after his departure from them, "the Holy Spirit would teach them all things, and bring all things to their remembrance which he had said to them" (John xiv. 26), and it may be assumed that after the Day of Pentecost this promise was fulfilled, and that they were then enlightened to discern the spiritual meaning of his doctrine. In this way it may be accounted for that while Christian doctrine rests fundamentally on the words and deeds of Christ as recorded in the Gospels, it is taught in the Acts of the Apostles and the apostolical Epistles in terms of a more abstract character, which, in fact, may be regarded as unfolding the spiritual import of the teaching, the life, and the death of Jesus Christ. The apostle Paul, although he was not one of the originally selected apostles, had special grace and {75} power given him for understanding fully and teaching the doctrine of Christ. Now, this apostle, so gifted with understanding and knowledge, writes in his Epistle to the Romans: "By the obedience of one shall the many be made righteous" (v. 19); the context evidently showing that the "one" is Jesus Christ, and that "the many" are _all_ the sinful sons of Adam. I have already adverted to this text (p. 19), and called attention to the significance of the future tense, "shall be made righteous." According to our argument, when they have been made righteous, they are _saved_. Hence, quite consistently with this passage in the Epistle to the Romans, St. Paul has said in his first Epistle to Timothy (iv. 10), "We trust in the living God, who is the Saviour of all men, especially of those that believe." If this sentence had not contained the last clause, there might have been some excuse for questioning whether St. Paul preached the doctrine of the eventual salvation of all men; but inasmuch as he adds, "especially of those that believe," it is as clear as words can make anything clear, that he taught that all are saved in the sense in which he taught that those who believe are saved. The reason for making the distinction expressed by the word "especially" is, I think, sufficiently apparent from the doctrine, previously maintained in this Essay (pp. 88-40), that the elect righteous are raised up first, and partake already of salvation, honour, {76} and glory, during a certain interval preceding the resurrection of the rest of mankind. Now, since all that are saved, as being at rest and in felicity, are free from sin and evil, this teaching of St. Paul is directly opposed to the doctrine of the perpetuity of evil which is usually inferred (see p. 71) from the saying of our Lord in Matt. xxv. 46. Thus apparently there is irreconcilable contradiction between the teaching of Christ and the teaching of St. Paul on a most momentous subject. Since, however, the same spirit of wisdom was in the apostle as in his Lord, it is not possible that there can really be such contradiction; and because, consequently, the seeming contradiction must be attributable to our defect of knowledge, or inability, to interpret rightly the allegorical teaching of Christ, we might do well, although no solution of the difficulty should be at hand, to accept this gospel of salvation, in the confidence that, as being declared by St. Paul in plain terms, it must be true Christian doctrine. I am not, however, prepared to grant that the solution of the above-mentioned difficulty is not discoverable; and accordingly I make bold to indicate a line of argument by which, as it seems to me, a solution is attainable. The first step in this argument is to admit the reality of that analogy between God's natural creation and His spiritual creation which has already been taken into consideration (see p. 14), {77} and to infer therefrom that the spiritual creation is actually in progress towards a foreordained perfect consummation. For the purpose of illustrating this view by way of contrast, I may mention that I once heard a sermon in which the preacher, who was regarded in his day as a leader of religious thought, advanced the theory that the word "remedy" expressed the central idea of the divine scheme of salvation. According to this theology, which looks backwards rather than forwards, the prevalence of sin and mortality, and the need of a remedy for the many ills and errors that beset humanity, were contingent on Adam's transgression. It may be granted that this is so far true, that sin and death entered into the world because Adam was not made incapable of sinning. But this theory overlooks the possibility of there being a _final_ cause for the actual facts of humanity, and seems to be a substitution of _propter hoc_ for _post hoc_. The analogy of the natural creation points to a different, and apparently a juster, view of the divine [oe]conomy, according to which the reign of sin and death in Adam and all his posterity is a necessary part of a prearranged scheme, now actually in progress, which is destined, by its completion hereafter, to make, not one man only, but a countless multitude, incapable of sinning and meet for immortality. On this point, however, after what has been already said (see p. 57), there is no occasion to say {78} more here. I proceed, therefore, to the next step, which is to indicate certain inferences that may be drawn from the character of progressiveness which pertains at present to the spiritual creation. It may, in the first place, be asserted that "the law of opposites," referred to in pp. 69 and 70, is a necessary accompaniment of that general law of progression. The author of the Book of Ecclesiasticus, who certainly put on record many wise sayings, has thus stated the law of opposites: "Good is set against evil, and life against death: so is the sinner against the godly. So look upon all the works of the Most High, and there are two and two, one against another" (xxxiii. 14, 15). Now, evidently this duality will cease, and unity be universally established, when, as argued in the preceding paragraph, the predestined consummation is reached, and the purpose of the whole creation, external and spiritual, is fulfilled. This doctrine of the termination of evil appears to have been understood and proclaimed by the writer of the fourth Book of Esdras, in which we meet with the following emphatic declaration: "Take heaven and earth to witness; for I have broken the evil in pieces, and created the good: for I live, saith the Lord" (ii. 14). In the mean while, as being subject to conditions of earth, and time, and space, we are also subject to this law of duality and antagonism, so that we have no knowledge or perception of anything of {79} which we do not also know the _opposite_. For this reason it is not possible to make known the conditions under which men are saved without at the same time stating the conditions under which they are _not_ saved. This will account for the _oppositeness_ and _parallelism_ of the statements in Matt. xxv. 46, concerning the consequences to the wicked and the righteous of their respective deeds, as well as for many statements of like character in other parts of Scripture. But this does not explain why the punishment of the wicked is said to be "eternal." Relatively to this question I submit the following considerations. Recurring once more to the position, that the existing order of things is part of a progressive scheme, the purpose of which is to create immortal souls, it may, I think, be reasonably assumed that there is nothing in human cognizance or experience, whether it be thought or feeling, word or deed, which is not contributory in some manner to this end. If a mechanist, after planning a machine for a certain purpose, introduced in the execution of it parts which contributed nothing towards effecting that purpose, would not this be considered to be an imperfection? Such imperfection is wholly inadmissible in the workmanship of an omniscient and omnipotent Creator. Accordingly, since, as being conditioned by _time_, we are capable of entertaining the thought that the punishment of the wicked in the world to come may {80} be eternal, many, in fact, having professed their belief that so it will be, we must conclude, on the above principle, that even this thought is contributory towards the eventual bringing in of immortality. But it will be asked, in what way? To this question we may give the general answer, that as such thought is operative on human action, and implies the existence of _time_, it must be reckoned as part of the total of human thought and experience conditioned by time, which was ordained from the beginning to be the means, whether in this age or in the age to come (_aiôn ho mellôn_), of forming spirits for immortality. Then, again, we have reason from Scripture to infer that the immortal spirit is in effect "spiritual _body_" (1 Cor. xv. 44), composed of functional parts or qualities constituting it such a whole that it is adapted for communion with other spirit; in which case the _temporal_ processes of creation above mentioned might be supposed to be designed to give to immortal spirit a character appropriate to its destiny. And we may, at least, be certain that Jesus Christ knew what was required for accomplishing his Father's purpose of creating spirits which, while retaining _individuality_ and _will_, would be incapable of sinning, and that in his wisdom he employed such manner of teaching as would either now or hereafter conduct to that end. I take occasion to observe here, parenthetically, that whereas, according to the above argument, the {81} word "eternal" (from _[oe]etas_) is applicable to punishment because we can think of eternal punishment by thinking of time, the word "endless" is not in the same manner applicable, simply because it does not explicitly indicate relation to _time_. The Greek equivalent of the English word "everlasting," and of the Latin word "_sempiternus_," namely _aidios_ from _aei_, is used in Rom. i. 20, and in Jude 6, in the sense of _aiônios_, and, as involving like the latter the conception of time, is similarly applicable to future punishment. But besides "_eternal_ life," we have in Scripture "_indissoluble_ life" (_xôn akatalytos_, Heb. vii. 16), the remarkable epithet _akatalytos_ not being etymologically expressive of time, and therefore not wrongly, although not strictly, translated by "endless" in the Authorized Version. No such epithet is applied in Scripture to "punishment" or "torment." (See more on this question in an Appendix to the Essay.) Reasoning analogous to that employed above relative to the assertion in Matt. xxv. 46, that the wicked "go away into eternal punishment," is applicable to other declarations of like tenor in various portions of Scripture. One of these, recorded in Matt. xxvi. 24 as having been spoken by the Lord to the "_twelve_," demands special notice. Translated literally according to the tenses of the Greek, this passage is, "Woe to that man through whom the Son of man has been betrayed! good was it for him, if that man was not {82} born." The translation in the Authorized Version, "it had been good for that man if he had not been born," may be taken to convey, regard being had to difference of idiom, the true sense of the original. Exactly the same passage occurs in Mark xiv. 21, where our translators have given, "good were it for that man if he had never been born." Although this translation, as containing the word "never," deviates still more than the other from the literal rendering, it may be justified on the principle that the declaration, in whatever form it be made, is one in which _time_ enters as a necessary element, whereby alone it is within the reach of thought. Accordingly, this saying of our Lord, regarded as having relation to experience in the world to come, is in the same category as his assertion of the eternity of future punishment, and would appear, by applying the argument already expounded (p. 80) with respect to that doctrine, to be in like manner contributory towards generating in the spirit of man an incapability of sinning. It is farther to be taken into account that these words were addressed by the Lord to his _apostles_--to the elect of the elect--with particular reference to the sin of _betraying_ the Son of man, which was exemplified by the outward act of Judas, who also by his self-destruction exhibited the damnatory power of the inward consciousness of such guilt. The exceeding sinfulness of such apostasy as that which Judas, chosen to be {83} an apostle, was guilty of, may be assigned as the reason that it was denounced by our Lord in terms which do not appear to have been applied to any other kind of "transgression" (compare Acts i. 17, 25). In Heb. x. 26, 27, we are taught that "if we sin wilfully after that we have received the knowledge of the truth, there remaineth no more sacrifice for sins, but a certain looking for of judgment and fiery indignation, which shall devour the adversaries." This is apostasy not of the same degree and character as that of a chosen apostle, but still is such that "the called" are not exempt from falling into it, as is clearly implied by the tenor of this passage. To those who thus fall and do not repent, is reserved "the fiery indignation" (_pyros zylos_), which is destined hereafter to devour the adversaries. It may be presumed that the adversaries thus specially referred to are those of whom it is said in Rev. xx. 9, that having been deceived by Satan, after their resurrection at the end of the thousand years, and gathered together in warfare against the beloved city, they were _devoured by fire_ from God out of heaven. Accordingly their destruction is identical with the second death. 2 Peter ii. 20, 21, is a passage of like import to that just considered. It is therein asserted of those who are overcome by the pollutions of the world after having escaped them through the knowledge of the Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ, that "it had been {84} better for them not to have known the way of righteousness, than, after they have known it, to turn from the holy commandment delivered to them." This may be taken to signify that the punishment in the day of judgment consequent upon sin and error arising out of ignorance, will be "more tolerable" than that which will be inflicted on those who have knowingly apostatized from the way of truth. What is said in Matt. xviii. 6, "Whoso shall offend one of these little ones that believe in me, it were better for him that a millstone were hanged about his neck, and that he were drowned in the depth of the sea," may be accounted for on the principle that any form of death of which the body is susceptible in this world is rather to be endured, and less to be feared, than the punishment which, through the judgment in the world to come, awaits the enemies of Christ who put a stumbling-block in the way of them that humble themselves as little children and believe on him. Analogous principles may be applied to account for the declarations made in Scripture respecting blasphemy against the Holy Spirit. In St. Matt. xii. 31, 82, it is recorded that our Lord said, "All sin and blasphemy shall be forgiven to men, but the blasphemy of the Spirit shall not be forgiven to men. And whoever speaketh a word against the Son of man, it shall be forgiven him; but whoever speaketh against the Holy Spirit, it shall not be forgiven him, {85} neither in this world, nor in the world to come." The same doctrine is thus expressed in St. Mark iii. 28, 29: "Verily I say to you, all sins shall be forgiven to the sons of men, and all blasphemies whatever wherewith they may blaspheme. But whoever shall blaspheme against the Holy Ghost hath never forgiveness," but is subject to the judgment in the future _aiôn_ (_enochos estin aiôniou kriseôs_). From the latter evangelist we also learn that our Lord spoke these words because the scribes from Jerusalem had said, "He hath an unclean spirit." It is particularly to be noticed that both passages declare in the fullest manner that all manner of sin and blasphemy shall be forgiven to men, at the same time that they pronounce that blasphemy (not sin, _amartia_) against the Holy Ghost is not forgiven. To account for this apparent contradiction, it must be remembered that the forgiveness, or _remission_ (_aphesis_) of sin, necessarily implies antecedence of law and transgression of the law; and whereas St. Paul teaches that "the law entered that transgression might abound" (Rom. v. 20), it is quite consistent with this doctrine to find that in the gospel of Christ provision is made for the remission of all sin and blasphemy. Now, such remission consists in "repentance towards God and faith towards our Lord Jesus Christ" (Acts xx. 21); and therefore, when the gift of righteousness (i.e. the grace of Christ) is received, the believer begins to partake {86} of a spirit such as that which was "without measure" in Christ. This is essentially a _holy_ spirit, the antecedent of which in Jesus Christ was perfect righteousness. Therefore the scribes blasphemed when they said of Christ, "He hath an unclean spirit," it not being possible that a perfectly righteous body can be the vessel of an unclean spirit. But it is possible that the faithful, after receiving the grace of Christ and fellowship of the Spirit, may by unrighteous conduct "grieve the Holy Spirit" (Eph. iv. 80), and even by persistence in sin defile the gift of the Spirit which had been imparted to them. In the foregoing passage from St. Matthew xii., it is said that there is forgiveness for one who "speaketh against the Son of man," which expression may signify, generally, wilful and overt opposition to "the law of Christ" (Gal. vi. 2); but that there is no forgiveness for one who _speaks_ against the Holy Spirit, i.e. one who by wilful and _overt_ conduct does violence to the sanctifying influence of the Holy Spirit which he has already partaken of. Of such an one it is written in Heb. x. 29, "he hath trodden underfoot the Son of God, and hath counted the blood of the covenant wherewith he was sanctified an unholy thing, and hath done despite to the Spirit of grace." But not every sin committed after faith and the baptism of repentance has this effect. The apostle John tells us that although all unrighteousness {87} (_adikia_, transgression of the strict law of Christ) is sin, there is sin of a believing brother which is not unto death, and may be repented of in this world; and there is sin unto death, respecting which prayer for repentance would be unavailing (1 Epist. v. 16, 17). This is "the blasphemy of the Spirit," which is not forgiven in this world, because forgiveness implies repentance; neither is it forgiven in the world to come, because beyond the grave there is no repentance. What remains for such sinners is the "[oe]onian judgment" (see p. 69) mentioned in St. Mark iii. 29, and "the sorer punishment" spoken of in Heb. x. 29, which is the same as the condemnation to the second death consequent upon that judgment. (I take occasion to remark that in Mark iii. 29, instead of _kriseôs_, some early manuscripts have _amaritêmatos_, which, as far as I can see, does not admit of being interpreted consistently with the context and the usage of _enochos_.) There is still another passage--Mark ix. 42-50--which, on account of its peculiar significance, it is necessary to discuss with reference to the Scriptural argument for immortality. It will suffice for conducting the discussion to cite _vv._ 43 and 44, the literal translation of which is as follows:--"If thy hand cause thee to offend, cut it off: it is well for thee to enter into life maimed, rather than having two hands to go into geenna, into the unquenchable fire, where their worm dieth not, and the fire is not {88} quenched." The concluding part of this text is evidently derived from Isaiah lxvi. 24, where the prophet reveals that the Lord has said respecting the worshippers, consisting of "all flesh," that shall come before him when "the new heavens and the new earth" are established, that "they shall go forth and look upon the carcases of the men that have transgressed against me: for their worm shall not die, neither shall their fire be quenched: and they shall be an abhorring unto all flesh." This passage has so important a bearing on the sense of that quoted above from St. Mark, that we must by all means endeavour to find out its interpretation. Respecting Biblical Interpretation, Burnet in one of his treatises has enunciated two principles, which cannot but be assented to: first, that besides the portions of Scripture which have a literal or historical meaning, there are others which must be taken allegorically; and, secondly, that an allegorical meaning, is to be admitted when the literal sense involves an absurdity, or contradiction to the nature of things.[2] The right application of these principles may be said to constitute a large portion of the science of Scripture. But in applying them it is often difficult to decide, respecting a particular passage, whether it is to be {89} taken literally or allegorically; and again, after deciding that the passage must be allegorical, there is generally the still greater difficulty of discovering what the true sense is. In illustration of the second of the above principles Burnet cites, apart from the context, _vermem nunquam moriturum_, and admits that these words have an allegorical signification. This plainly follows from the single consideration that the worm (_skôlêx_) here spoken of is literally that which is seen to feed on dead bodies, and to say of it that it does not die is contradictory to experience. When, however, the same author goes on to give as the allegorical sense nothing more definite than "_extremam miseriam_," it may well be asked, By what kind of induction has this conclusion been reached? The feeble worm which feeds on mortal remains presents to our sight nothing capable of causing pain or misery. Rather it may, I think, be asserted that Scripture here adverts to this natural fact for the purpose of indicating by a distinct and visible emblem that there is a living principle which destroys mortality, and which for that reason alone is not itself subject to death. If we be guided solely by what _we see with our eyes_, this appears to be the only allegorical sense that can be attributed to the first clause of Mark ix. 44.[3] We have next to inquire as to the {90} interpretation of the other clause, and what is the mutual relation between the two clauses. Although the worm which devours dead bodies is not emblematic of anything that causes pain, the case is quite otherwise with respect to the emblematic meaning of _fire_. It is evident that fire which is "unquenchable" is not natural fire, and consequently may be taken to be, as has already been assumed, the devouring fire of judgment and of condemnation consequent upon violation of the law of righteousness (see p. 88). The destruction of the impenitent unrighteous by the operation of this law (which is their second death), is attended with pain and woe such as will not have been before, nor will be after. It was inferred (p. 84) from our Lord's teaching in Matt. xviii. 6, that any form of _death_ of which the body is susceptible in this world is rather to be endured than falling under condemnation in the world to come. In Mark ix. 42-48, we are taught that any form of bodily _pain_, as that of losing a hand, a foot, or an eye, is to be preferred to entering with the body whole into the "_geenna_ of fire." This is, in fact, at once the greatest and the _last_ of human suffering and tribulation. For it should be noticed that at the end of this very passage (v. 49) it is said that "every one shall be salted [made 'good,' _v._ 50] with fire," signifying the effect finally produced by the unquenchable fire. And with this agrees the emblem {91} of the worm that "dieth not," taken as indicating that the final effect of the torment of the judgment is to swallow up death, and to bring in, by establishing the reign of righteousness, life and immortality. The signification of one emblem must be taken in conjunction with that of the other. Moreover, by giving particular attention to the context of Isa. lxvi. 24, it will be seen that what is there revealed is quite in accordance with the above interpretation. For, first, in _v._ 16 we have, "By fire and by his sword [the sword of the Word of God spoken of in Rev. xix. 15] will the Lord plead with all flesh," that is, in the judgment which has been appointed for the trial and tribulation of all men. Then, by taking into account what is said in _vv._ 22 and 23, we may gather that "all flesh," having become denizens of "the new heavens and the new earth" in which, as St. Peter declares (2 Epist. iii. 13), righteousness dwells, "come to worship the Lord." Of _these worshippers_, consisting of "all flesh," it is affirmed that "they shall go forth and look upon the carcases of the transgressors," which, on account of the ill savour coming up from them, will be "an abhorring to all flesh" (compare Isa. xxxiv. 3). Thus there is here represented, but by a different figure, the same truth as that which has already been deduced from the ascending up for ever and ever of the brimstone smoke of torment (see pp. 61 and 65); namely, {92} that the subjecting of all the deeds and secrets of the present life to the scrutiny of judgment, and the consequent condemnation of all the unredeemed to the pains of a second death, will have the effect of making sin against a "faithful Creator" to be seen and felt to be so hateful and abominable a thing, that such sin will cease to be possible, notwithstanding that all men will retain individuality and volition. For all will thus at length be made new creatures incapable of sinning. This remark may serve to introduce the final stage of the general argument, which I now proceed to enter upon. I have been endeavouring to show that the symbolic assertions in Rev. xx. respecting "the lake of fire" and its "burning with brimstone," the casting therein of the devil, the beast, and the false prophet, and their being tormented "day and night for ever and ever," the judgment of all the dead, small and great, according to their recorded deeds, "the second death," and the casting into the lake of fire of "any one not found written in the book of life," do not necessitate, as is commonly thought, the conclusion that evil, which had a beginning, fulfils no purpose and has no ending. As to this question the seer gives, in Rev. xxi. 1-4, the following explicit revelation: "And I saw a new heaven and a new earth: for the first heaven and the first earth passed away; and there is no more sea. And I saw the holy city, new Jerusalem, {93} coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride adorned for her husband. And I heard a great voice from the throne, saying, Behold, the tabernacle of God is with men, and He will dwell with them, and they shall be His people, and God Himself will be with them, their God. And God will wipe away every tear from their eyes; and death shall be no more, neither sorrow nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain: for the first things passed away." Now, it seems hardly possible that the announcement of the termination of evil could be made in terms more direct and more intelligible than these. Hence, according to acknowledged principles of Biblical interpretation, we must not attribute to the above-mentioned symbolic and less intelligible passages any meaning inconsistent with that announcement. The arguments I have adduced respecting the interpretation of the figurative statements contained in the latter half of chap. xx. are directed to showing that these figures do, in fact, admit of meanings consistent with the gospel revelations given in chap. xxi. 1-4. It is of so much importance, as regards the Scriptural doctrine of immortality, to establish this point, that I propose now to supplement the former arguments by additional considerations. In the Book of Daniel (xii. 6, 7) we read of "a man clothed in linen, who was upon the water of a river, and held up his right hand and his left hand unto {94} heaven, and sware by Him that liveth for ever," that at the end of an appointed time a certain purpose would be accomplished, and "all these things be finished." This refers, as the context shows, to "the time of the end" of the present age (_aiôn_). The announcement made in this manner by the man clothed in linen indicates that he is the precursor of the angel of whom, in _vv._ 1, 2, 5, 6, 7 of Rev. x., the apostle John relates as follows: "I saw a mighty angel come down from heaven, clothed with a cloud, and a rainbow upon his head, and his face as the sun, and his feet as pillars of fire; and, having in his hand a little book open, he set his right foot upon the sea, and his left foot upon the earth.... and lifted up his hand to heaven, and sware by Him that liveth for ever and ever, who created heaven and the things therein, and the earth and the things therein, and the sea and the things therein, that time shall be no more; but in the days of the voice of the seventh angel, in the time when he is about to sound his trumpet, also [_kai_, merely indicating the apodosis] the mystery of God is finished (_etelesthê_, aor. ind.), according to the gospel He made known to His servants the prophets." The soundings of the seven trumpets are significant of progressive steps in the general judgment; the days pertaining to the voice of the seventh angel are those immediately preceding the actual sounding of his trumpet, which announces the {95} completion (as indicated by the number seven) of the mystery of God's creation in time, and marks the end of the age (_ho aiôn ho mellôn_) following upon the conclusion of the present age. When all that pertains to this final interval "is finished," there is no more succession of events whereby time is cognizable, and therefore time is no more. The might, and glorious investiture, and majestic attitude of the angel who proclaims this truth, conspire to point out its great significance. The little book in his hand is the word of prophecy by which we learn these mysteries. It is, no doubt, beyond the limit of our thoughts, conditioned as we are by time, to conceive of a state of things in which time is no more. Apparently for this reason commentators have proposed to translate, _chronos ouk estai eti_, "the time shall not be yet," or "time shall no more intervene." The former of these translations is excluded by the usage of _ouk eti_ in the analogous affirmations in Rev. xxi. 1, 4, and the other, which is an arbitrary comment rather than a translation, is for the same reason excluded. (I have preferred _ouk estai eti_ to _ouketi estai_, because the words occur in the former order in each of the three instances in Rev. xxi.) There can be no question as to the philological correctness of the translation, "time shall be no more." The unwillingness to admit it appears to have arisen solely from a fixed persuasion, gratuitously and very generally entertained, that time {96} has a _necessary_ existence, and therefore cannot come to an end. Some have affirmed that when time ends, eternity begins; which is a self-contradictory dogma, because eternity (from _[oe]tas_) is essentially time. The teaching of Scripture on this point is directly opposed to these views; for the apostle Peter tells those for whose sake he wrote his second Epistle, to bear in mind "this one thing, that one day is with the Lord as a thousand years, and a thousand years as one day" (2 Epist. iii. 8). This is equivalent to saying that time is not an independent entity, but that both its existence and its quality are determined by the _will_ of the Creator of all things. It is in virtue of our being made in His image, and partaking intellectually of the divine nature, that we are capable _in thought_ of giving indefinite and arbitrary extension to time, whether it be past time or time to come. This faculty, as I have already argued in p. 80, is to be placed in the category of the different conditions, whether depending on experience of the course of time, or on affections of our bodily and mental constitutions, under which the spirit of man is formed for immortality. All such conditions are determined by the purpose for which they are imposed, and when that purpose is fulfilled in the perfection of humanity the conditions come to an end. It is thus that the being conditioned by time eventually ceases. It will be proper here to meet an objection to the {97} doctrine that time will have an end which might be drawn from the expression, _eis tous aiônas tôn aiônôn_, which frequently occurs in Scripture, and seems to be indicative of an unlimited succession of ages. So far as time is under human cognizance, and has relation to human experience, Scripture speaks in express terms of only _two_ ages--the present one, which lasts to the end of the _generations_ of men in the existing order of things; and the age to come, which embraces the course of the judgment of all who lived in the first age, and terminates with the second death of those who had no part in the first resurrection. When it is said of the Creator of heaven and earth, that He is "from everlasting to everlasting" (_apo tou aiônos meôs tou aiônos su ei_, Ps. xc. 2), and that "He liveth for ever and ever" (_ho zôn eis tous aiônas tôn aiônôn_, Rev. x. 6), the word _aiôn_ is not used to signify, as in the instances of the two "ages" just mentioned, an interval having beginning and ending, but is to be taken in an abstract sense, derived from our ordinary perception of the existence and quality of time, and from the faculty which, as said before, we possess of thinking of time as indefinitely extended. The first of the cited passages affirms what in these days we should express by saying that God is necessarily and essentially self-existent, and the other, what we mean by saying that He is necessarily and essentially a _living_ God. But {98} Scripture uses no such terms as these, because it is written on the principle of employing in an abstract sense only such terms as are rendered intelligible by personal sensation and observation, and by experience drawn under actual conditions from the outer world. It is thus that the word "age" acquired its primary meaning, before it was susceptible of the abstract application just mentioned. There is also to be said, as a reason for accepting this doctrine respecting our relation to time, that Scripture teaches analogous doctrine respecting our relation to _space_. When our Lord astonished his disciples by saying that the passage of a camel through the eye of a needle is not an impossibility, he explained that "this is impossible with men, but not with God; for with God all things are possible" (Mark x. 25-27). By this saying he asserted that space, and the mutual relations of body and space, are such as they are by the will and power of God, and by the same power might be changed. Considering, therefore, that "the new heavens and the new earth" constitute a "new creation," it is quite in accordance with the above inference from our Lord's words to find it said of "the new Jerusalem, the holy city," that "the length, and the breadth, and the height of it are equal" (Rev. xxi. 16). For a city to be such as to conform to this description, it is plain that material substance and space must {99} be related to each other in an entirely new manner, unrecognizable by present experience. The apostle Paul adverts to the eventual status of the spirit of man with respect to time and space where he says, "I am persuaded that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor any other creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord" (Rom. viii. 38, 39). (In this sentence the recognized passage of time, the powers [_dynameis_] of nature, and the measurable qualities of space, seem all to be regarded as things _created_.) Also corresponding to the change in the external creation it is revealed that there will be a change of the outward man, the natural body giving place to the "spiritual body." It would appear, therefore, from the whole of the foregoing argument that our spirits, after being bound by earthly and temporal conditions, undergo complete transformation, being conjoined with bodily essence related in a new manner to _space_, and being also released from the condition of _time_. But although this mode of existence may be a necessary condition of the immortal state, especially as such state embraces associated members, it is not the sole, nor the principal, condition of immortality, as the remainder of the argument will show. It has already been noticed that St. Peter {100} characterizes "the new heavens and the new earth" by saying that "righteousness dwells therein." This is as much as to say that it is a perfect _social_ state, whose end is at once the glory of God and the happiness of man. The words of the apostle (2 Epist. iii. 13) signify that the new creation, by satisfying this condition, is the fulfilment of an antecedent promise. Now, the argument of this Essay is in entire agreement with this doctrine, inasmuch as it was from the first assumed (p. 9) that immortality cannot consist with any other than a state of righteousness, and then (pp. 19 and 20) it was argued that after Adam's transgression a _promise_ was made that himself and his race would eventually be exempt from the power of Satan and attain to immortality. The passage Rev. xxi. 1-4, quoted in p. 92, seems to certify the complete fulfilment of this promise and to indicate the manner of its fulfilment. But there are other passages in this concluding portion of the Apocalypse, which might be thought to bear a contrary signification, to which, therefore, our attention must now be directed. In xxi. 8 we have, "But the fearful, and unbelieving, and the abominable, and murderers, and fornicators, and sorcerers, and idolaters, and all lies, shall have their part in the lake which burneth with fire and brimstone: which is the second death." If we give to this symbolism, as consistency requires, {101} an interpretation analogous to that applied to Rev. xx. 10, we shall conclude that sinners of all classes will eventually have no cognizable existence, transgression being brought to an end by the effect of the general judgment and the pains of the second death. This may explain why it is added, "which is the second death." It is worthy of remark that "all lies" are said to have their part in "the lake" although the casting of lies into a lake is objectively an impossibility. But this variation of the designation ("lies" being put for "liars") may be intended to signify generally that all transgression disappears, because transgressors cease to be cognizable _as transgressors_. There is another thing to be noticed respecting the same passage: it contains no such clause as, "They shall be tormented day and night to the ages of ages," which occurs at the end of Rev. xx. 10. This omission may be accounted for on the principle stated in p. 96, according to which expressions involving time are not applicable to the condition of things in the new creation, in which time exists no more. I take the occasion to remark here that the above-cited clause appears to be the only passage in the Apocalypse which asserts the perpetuity of _personal_ experience of torment, as distinct from the perpetuity of its effect; also that the personal subject of the verb _basanisthêsontia_, according to grammatical rules, would be the devil, the beast, and the {102} false prophet, each of which is represented as personal, and endowed with volition and power. But these, as I have maintained in p. 61, are the powers which, according to the law of opposites, are antagonist to God the Father, the Holy Ghost, and the Son of God; and the assertion that they are tormented for ever and ever may be taken to mean, according to the principle of interpretation explained in p. 97, that they exist _necessarily_, but only as they exist, when subdued, in the contempt and hatred in which they are held by those who have felt their power and have overcome it, this spiritual effect being a condition of immortality. (See end of p. 61.) It remains to speak of one other subject connected with the revelations made in the Apocalypse, which, understood as it respects our argument, is of very great moment, inasmuch as it has relation to the means by which the spirit of man is endowed with immortality. The Son of God is named in the Apocalypse "The Word of God" (xix. 18), "King of kings and Lord of lords" (xvii. 14, and xix. 16), "the root and the offspring of David, the bright and morning star" (xxii. 16), and by other titles expressive of honour and dignity; but no name occurs so frequently, and in such various applications, as "the Lamb." What, it may be asked, is the reason for this? In order to answer this question let us take into consideration some instances, specially {103} significant, in which this name occurs. From what is recorded in chap. v. 6-13 as having been seen in vision by the apostle, we are instructed as follows respecting the character and office of the Lamb: "In the midst of the throne [the seat of the Lord God Almighty] and of the four living beings, and in the midst of the elders, stood a Lamb as it had been slain, having seven horns [emblematic of perfect power] and seven eyes [perfection of wisdom], which are the seven Spirits of God sent forth into all the earth." And he came and took out of the right hand of Him who sat upon the throne a book "sealed with seven seals." "And when he had taken the book, the four living beings and four and twenty elders fell down before the Lamb.... And they sung a new song, saying, Thou art worthy to take the book, and to open the seals thereof; for thou wast slain." Then "an innumerable company of angels" (Heb. xii. 22) was heard to say with a loud voice, "Worthy is the Lamb that was slain to receive power, and riches, and wisdom, and strength, and honour, and glory, and blessing. And every created thing which is in heaven, and on the earth, and under the earth, and such as are in the sea, and all things in them, were heard to say, Blessing, and honour, and glory, and power be unto Him that sitteth upon the throne, and unto the Lamb for ever and ever." Then follows in chap. vi. the opening of the seven {104} seals, which, from the descriptions given at the successive openings, appear to symbolize the various kinds of human experience, both good and evil, which mark the course of events in the present world, all centering in the work of redemption by the sacrifice of the Son of God; on which account the Lamb _slain_ can alone open the seven seals and disclose their meaning. At the end of what is said relative to the sixth seal mention is made of "the great day of the wrath of the Lamb," which, because by reason of the sins of men he was so unjustly slain, is ordained to be seen and felt by the whole world after the termination of the present age (see Rev. i. 7). The expectation of that wrath, although none can escape it, all but very few in the present day are unwilling, through terror or unbelief, to entertain. The state of terror of all classes at the signs of the approach of that day appears to be described at the end of the chapter. (See vi. _vv._ 15-17.) Next, in chap. vii., comes the sealing of all the elect, represented symbolically by the sealing of twelve thousand of each of the twelve tribes of Israel, the number twelve specially signifying election. Then in _vv._ 9-17 is recorded a most wonderful vision. The seer says, "After this I beheld, and, lo, a great multitude, whom no man could number, of all nations, and tribes, and peoples, and tongues, standing before the throne and before the Lamb, clothed with white {105} robes, and palms in their hands: and they cry with a loud voice, saying, Salvation to our God who sitteth upon the throne, and to the Lamb." This multitude whom no man can number, the number of whom is elsewhere said to be as "the sand of the sea," must embrace all that are not of the number of the elected and sealed one hundred and forty-four thousand, and their ascription here of praise to God for salvation accords with the teaching of St. Paul, that "God is the Saviour of all men, especially of those that believe." This is made still plainer by what is said respecting this multitude clothed in white robes in _vv._ 14-17. The seer is told by one of the elders that "These are they who come out of the great tribulation, and washed their robes, and made them white in the blood of the Lamb. Therefore are they before the throne of God, and serve Him day and night in His temple; and He that sitteth on the throne shall dwell among them. And they shall hunger no more, neither thirst any more; neither shall the sun light on them, nor any heat. For the Lamb who is in the midst of the throne will feed them, and will lead them to fountains of waters of life; and God will wipe away all tears from their eyes." It is evident that the revelation here made is _proleptical_, describing a state of things identical with that which in Rev. xxi. 3, 4 (before quoted in p. 93), is said to pertain to the new heavens and the {106} new earth. The explanation that may be given of this anticipation of the subsequent revelation is referable to a principle which governs much that is contained in Scripture, although it has been generally overlooked--the principle, namely, of following sometimes an order determined by _relativity_, although it sets aside order as to time. This, however, is not done except for some purpose. In the present instance, the effect of declaring the salvation of all men in immediate sequence to the sealing of the elect for salvation, is to indicate that the general scheme whereby all eventually partake of salvation consists of related and progressive parts to be unfolded by course of time. The name of "the Lamb" is also given to our Lord in various other passages, which, with the view of contributing to the general argument, I proceed now to cite and make some remarks upon. The accuser of the brethren (Satan) is overcome by those who loved not their lives unto death, "on account of the _blood_ of the Lamb" (xii. 10, 11). The beast will be worshipped by all dwellers upon earth "whose names are not written in the book of life of the Lamb _slain_ from the foundation of the world" (xiii. 8). "A Lamb stood on the mount Sion, and with him an hundred forty and four thousand, having his Father's name written on their foreheads.... These are they who follow the Lamb wheresoever he goeth. {107} These were purchased from among men, the firstfruits to God and to the Lamb" (xiv. 1, 4). The worshippers of the beast "shall be tormented with fire and brimstone in the presence of the holy angels and in the presence of the Lamb" (xiv. 10). Those who have gotten the victory over the beast "sing the song of Moses the servant of God, and the song of the Lamb, saying, Great and marvellous are thy works, Lord God Almighty; just and true are thy ways, thou King of the nations. Who shall not fear thee, O Lord, and glorify thy name? for thou only art holy: for all nations shall come and worship before thee, because thy judgments are made manifest" (xv. 2-4). The law given by Moses, and the gospel of Jesus Christ, constitute together a great and wonderful [oe]conomy, redounding to the praise and glory of God, and to the salvation of man. Kings of the earth "shall make war with the Lamb, and the Lamb shall overcome them, because he is Lord of lords and King of kings, and they that are with him are called, and elect, and faithful" (xvii. 14). The marriage of the Lamb and his bride--that is, the union of Christ with the whole assembly of the redeemed--does not take place till "the wife has made herself ready," till she has arrayed herself in the fine linen, clean and white, which it was given her to put on, the fine linen being "the righteousness of saints" (xix. 7, 8). This doctrine accords well {108} with the view taken throughout this Essay, namely, that righteousness (the "unspeakable gift," 2 Cor. ix. 15) is necessary as an antecedent condition of salvation, and therefore of immortality. It is further to be noticed that this union between the Lamb and the bride is not perfected while time lasts, requiring the condition of a new creation. For it was not till the first heaven and the first earth passed away that John "saw the holy city, new Jerusalem, coming down from God out of heaven, prepared as a bride adorned for her husband" (xxi. 2), and that "the Lamb's wife" was shown to him by "one of the seven angels that had the seven vials full of the last seven plagues" (xxi. 9). The performance of this office by an angel who in the antecedent judgment had been a minister of wrath and punishment, may be taken to be significant of the _means_ by which the glorious consummation is brought about. Finally, we have in the following concluding portions of apocalyptic prophecy a description of what may be said to constitute the joy of the marriage supper, namely, the perfection through righteousness, not only of the union between Christ and the elect Church, but also of that between God and all peoples. Speaking of "the holy city Jerusalem," John says, "I saw no temple therein; for the Lord God Almighty and the Lamb are the temple of it. And the city hath no need of the sun, neither of the {109} moon, to shine on it; for the glory of God gave light to it, and the Lamb is the lamp thereof. And the nations shall walk by the light of it, and the kings of the earth bring their glory into it. And the gates of it shall not be shut by day, for there will not be night there. And they shall bring the glory and honour of the nations into it. And there shall not enter into it anything unclean, and that worketh abomination and lying, but only they that are written in the Lamb's book of life" (xxi. 22-27). The seer goes on to say, "And he showed me a river of water of life, bright as crystal, coming forth from the throne of God and of the Lamb. In the midst of the street of it and of the river, on the one side and the other [the river being in the middle of the street, and the tree spreading from one side to the other], was the tree of life, producing twelve fruits, and yielding its fruit according to each month; and the leaves of the tree are for the healing of the nations. And there shall be no more curse; and the throne of God and of the Lamb shall be in it, and His servants shall serve Him: and they shall see His face, and His name shall be on their foreheads. And night shall be no more: and they shall have no need of light of a lamp, and light of the sun; because the Lord God will give them light, and they shall reign to the ages of ages" (xxii. 1-5). The foregoing citations, and indeed the whole tenor of the contents of the Apocalypse, clearly point to the {110} conclusion that what is symbolized by "the Lamb" and "the Lamb slain" runs through all it teaches respecting the course of experience and future destination of the race of man--is "the lamp" that enlightens the whole. Now, I think I may assert that the reason this is so is given by the arguments adduced in this Essay. It has been maintained that on the day that Adam fell into disobedience by the wiles of Satan, his Creator made a promise by covenant that he and his offspring should in the end be freed from the power of Satan and evil, and partake of immortality. The terms of the covenant were that man must pass through toil, and pain, and death, that thereby his spirit might be formed for receiving the gift of an immortal life. Evidence of an intelligent belief of the efficacy of these conditions was given by the faithful of old by their sacrificing clean animals, and surety for the fulfilment of the covenant was given on God's part by a favourable acceptance, either directly or mediately, of this expression of their faith. In process of time the only begotten Son of God, out of sympathy with suffering humanity, and from knowledge of his Father's purpose towards us, satisfied in his own person the very same conditions, and thus at once exemplified and justified the means by which that purpose is accomplished. At the same time he made sure the grounds for belief of the fulfilment of the covenanted promise, first by marvellous {111} works before he suffered, which showed that he had command over all the ills of humanity, and after his death, by resurrection from the grave the third day, which gave proof of the reality of a power that could overcome death. The miracles of Christ are an essential part of the work of his ministry, inasmuch as they were needed to prove that he possessed power greater than that of his adversaries, and consequently that he submitted _voluntarily_ to be "led as a _lamb_ to the slaughter," and to endure all the pain and indignities of the cross. Out of love towards those whom he vouchsafes to call his brethren, he showed how they must undergo physical suffering and the pains of death in order that their spirits might be formed for an endless life. It was with understanding and belief that the way to life was made sure by fellowship with Christ in suffering, that some of the most favoured of his faithful followers, apostles and apostolic men, willingly suffered after his example. But pain and death are not in this way efficacious for salvation, unless they be accompanied by a faith which lays hold of the covenant and promise of life made and ratified from the beginning by God, and which looks for the fulfilment in the world to come. Those who, having this faith, do good works are God's elect, who live again at the first resurrection, to die no more. The rest of mankind, although they go through suffering and death, and although their {112} sufferings are not without effect in forming their spirits for immortality (such is the virtue of the sacrifice of the Son of God "for the sins of the whole world"), rise to be judged for their unbelief and unrighteousness, and to be condemned to undergo a second death. The Lamb slain is appointed to execute the judgment and take vengeance on the unrighteous. What better title could there be for his undertaking this "strange work" (Isa. xxviii. 21), than his having so cruelly and unjustly suffered at the hands of sinful men? Yet the portions of Scripture we have had under consideration necessitate the conclusion that the consecration of the way to life through death by the death of the Son of God, which applies to the death of believers, applies also to the second death of unbelievers; so that this death also is followed by life. But here a difficulty presents itself which needs explanation. Although Scripture speaks of a first resurrection and a second death, it makes no mention of a _second resurrection_. This, I think, may be accounted for as follows. By considering the context, both preceding and following, of the clause, "This is the first resurrection," in Rev. xx. 5, it will be apparent that "resurrection" does not here mean simply returning to life after death, but may be taken to embrace the whole period of the thousand years, together with all that concerns "the happy and the holy" who {113} have part therein. This interpretation is in accordance with the sense in which our Lord speaks of resurrection where he says, "In the resurrection they neither marry nor are given in marriage, but are as the angels, of God in heaven" (Matt. xxii. 30). That "the resurrection" (_hê anastasis_) designates a state or condition of life into which the elect of God are _introduced_ by returning to life after death, is still more explicitly signified by the following corresponding passage of St. Luke (xx. 34-36): "The children of this world marry, and are given in marriage; but they who are accounted worthy to obtain that world, and the resurrection from the dead, neither marry nor are given in marriage: neither can they die any more; for they are equal to the angels, and are children of God, being children of the resurrection." Now, it may certainly be inferred from what is said in Rev. xx. 5, that the rest of the dead, who have no part in this first resurrection, return to life at the end of the thousand years. But they return to life to be judged, condemned, and suffer death again. This, therefore, is in no sense a resurrection answering to the description above given of the first resurrection, and accordingly is not called in Scripture the second resurrection. What really corresponds to the holiness and happiness of the first resurrection state is the finally perfected and all-comprehending state called "the new heaven and the new earth," life in which, according to our {114} argument, comes out of the second and last death, and is unconditioned by time. This is the heavenly state which is described in Rev. vii. 11-17, xxi. 2-4, and 10-27. Thus, although this may be regarded as that subsequent resurrection to which "the first resurrection" by its very designation points, it is not called "the second resurrection," because it is not, like the first, limited or conditioned by _time_. The portion of the Apocalypse which is strictly symbolical and prophetical begins at _v._ 1 of chap. iv. and ends with _v._ 5 of chap. xxii. The first three chapters, including the epistles to the seven Churches, and the verses from chap. xxii. 5 to the end of the book, may be taken to be respectively introduction and conclusion, the contents of which, although strictly related to those of the intermediate symbolical part, are not of a character so exclusively figurative. This circumstance has to be taken into account in proposing interpretations of passages contained in them. Now, there are certain passages in the concluding part which appear to be contradictory to the doctrine of salvation maintained in this Essay, and accordingly, before bringing the argument to a close, I shall endeavour to ascertain the true interpretations of these passages. The angel who showed John "these things" (xxii. 8) says of himself, "I am the fellow-servant of thee, and of thy brethren the prophets, and of those who {115} keep the words of this book;" and yet this speaker is not distinguished from him who afterwards says (_vv._ 12, 13), "Lo, I come quickly, and my reward is with me, to render to each according as his work is. I am the Alpha and the Omega, the first and the last, the beginning and the end," who, without doubt, is the Lord himself. This may be accounted for by the following considerations. This angel, of whom it is twice asserted that he refused to receive worship proffered to him by the seer (xix. 10, and xxii. 9), is the same that is spoken of in Rev. i. 1, with reference to "the revelation of Jesus Christ, which God gave to him, to shew to his servants things which must shortly come to pass," in these terms: "He [Jesus Christ] by sending signified it [the revelation] through his angel to his servant John." In certain passages in the introductory part of the Apocalypse, as Rev. i. 8, 17-20, and throughout the epistles to the seven Churches, the Lord speaks in his own person; and this again he does expressly in some passages in the concluding part, as xxii. 7, 12, 13, 16, 20; and although the speaker in _vv._ 10 and 11 appears to be the same as the speaker in _v._ 9, who certainly is the angel, such words as those two verses contain could hardly have been uttered by any one but the Lord, and, at least, they may be attributed to him on the principle that what the Lord does through his ministering angel may be said to be done by himself. It is as {116} ministering to Jesus Christ that the angel calls himself a "fellow-servant" of prophets and apostles, and, generally, of those who keep the words of this revelation. For these reasons in the following remarks I take _vv._ 10 and 11 as spoken by Jesus Christ. The words addressed by the speaker to John are (_vv._ 10, 11): "Seal not the sayings of the prophecy of this book; for the time is at hand. He who is unrighteous, let him commit injustice still; and he who is filthy, let him be filthy still; and he who is righteous, let him do righteousness still; and he who is holy, let him be holy still. Lo, I come quickly; and my reward is with me, to render to each as his work is." This passage has been interpreted as meaning that in the world to come the conditions of the righteous and the wicked are irrevocably fixed. I would rather say, having regard to the precise opposition of the clauses of which it is composed, that the passage declares that in the end unrighteousness and filthiness are irrevocably separate from their opposites righteousness and holiness; and to account for the terms in which this statement is made, it may suffice to refer to the principle that according to the concrete, or objective, teaching of the Apocalypse, holiness and filthiness would not be spoken of abstractedly, that is, apart from holy and _filthy_ persons, and in like manner righteousness and unrighteousness would not be mentioned apart from their necessary {117} antecedents, _personal_ righteous and unrighteous _deeds_. The expressions "commit injustice" and "do righteousness," which do not occur in the English version, are exact renderings of the Greek. Another passage which, as bearing on our argument, requires to be taken into account, is _v._ 15 of the same chapter, which asserts that "without are dogs, and sorcerers, and fornicators, and murderers, and idolaters, and every one that loveth and maketh a lie." This is expressing in concrete language, such as is constantly employed in Scripture, that there is no unrighteousness in the city of God. Such language, being concerned only with _objective_ realities, cannot express a _negation_, and, consequently, cannot assert that unrighteousness is _not_ within the city. Hence it is not possible, except by means of such terms as those actually employed, to express concretely that the city of God is free from all unrighteousness. By comparing Rev. xxi. 8 with the interpretation here given of Rev. xxii. 15, it will be seen that the exclusion from the city of God of all things sinful and abominable is declared to be effected by "the second death." I have now completed the argument respecting man's immortality which I proposed to found upon the words of Scripture. I have argued on the hypothesis that for this purpose the Scriptures are trustworthy and sufficient, and I have admitted that we {118} can know nothing for certain concerning our immortality apart from the declared will of "Him who alone hath immortality" (1 Tim. vi. 16). Accordingly, Scripture must be consulted in order to learn what God has willed respecting the destiny of man. The principal result of this inquiry is, that by the will of God righteousness and salvation are so inseparably connected that only as being personally righteous can man be saved and partake of immortality. The question, therefore, as to the immortality of all men resolves itself into inquiring whether, and by what means, all men are made righteous. Arguments relating to this inquiry may be said to constitute the whole of this Essay. I am prepared to expect that it will be objected to these arguments that they are _new_, and on this account that the conclusions drawn from them are not _true_. I admit the validity of this inference if the arguments and conclusions are really new, but I maintain that in so far as they are founded upon, and correctly supported by, Scripture, they cannot be new, because we must not suppose that the Scriptural doctrine of man's salvation was not fully understood before these days--for instance, in the days of primitive Christianity. As the objection on the ground of newness cannot be sustained, the only course left to the objector is to examine the arguments, for the purpose of ascertaining whether they are sound and strictly Scriptural. {119} I think, however, it is possible that Scriptural doctrine, as taught originally by prophets, apostles, and apostolic men, may have become so obscured and mixed up with human traditions and accretions, that bringing it again to light would appear like promulgating new doctrine. This remark leads me to state on what authorities I have chiefly relied in the composition of this Essay. I may say at once that my views have been determined for the most part by long study of St. Paul's Epistle to the Romans, and the Apocalypse of the Apostle John. I was not, however, able to accept St. Paul's Epistle as it is translated in the Authorized Version, nor could I agree with any commentary upon it that had come before me. For these reasons I published a revised Translation, with Introduction and Notes (Deighton, Bell, & Co., 1871), which may, perhaps, claim consideration, if on no other ground, because it is the production of a mind not unacquainted with classical studies, but trained especially by mathematics and the pursuit of physical science for inquiring respecting the method and laws of divine operation. I have stated in the preface to that work (p. x.) the particular bearing which, as it seemed to me, such studies have on the interpretation of St. Paul's Epistle. Under the influence of the same mental training, I was induced long since to direct my attention towards the interpretation of the Apocalypse, and I purpose {120} shortly, if God be willing, to publish the fruits of my researches. Any reader of this Essay will perceive that it contains much which depends on views which I entertain respecting the general scheme and the symbolism of the Apocalypse. With respect to the interpretation of symbolical Scripture, I have not abstained from having recourse to books which, although they are not included in the Canon of Scripture, are specially adapted to reveal principles on which the prophetical and symbolical parts of Canonical Scripture may be interpreted. I refer to three books in particular, the fourth Book of Esdras, the Epistle of Barnabas, and the Shepherd of Hermas. There is historic evidence that these books were largely made use of in the days of primitive Christianity. The first has obtained an honourable place in the Articles of the Church of England, owing, no doubt, to the traditional influence which the Church of Rome still had at the time of the Reformation. In the midst of much error and superstition pervading that Church, she faithfully performed the part of keeper of the ancient sacred writings, and to her we are indebted for the preservation for ecclesiastical use of that most instructive book, although at the Council of Trent it was not admitted into the Romish Canon. The other two books above mentioned were long regarded by the Primitive Church as being useful for instruction in doctrine, and of {121} authority little less than that of Scripture; in attestation of which assertion it may be stated that the Codex Sinaiticus contains the whole of the Epistle of Barnabas, and a portion of the Shepherd of Hermas, although no other early Christian writings are in the same manner associated with the Canonical Books. In drawing inferences from the above sources of information, I have endeavoured to keep closely to the rules of induction which have conducted to such signal discoveries in Natural Philosophy, and to refrain from accepting any inference which the Scriptural data did not justify. The modern advances in physical science, which have shown in what path we must proceed in order to reach a knowledge of God's works, indicate, it may be presumed, that an analogous method is to be pursued in order to gain a knowledge of His word. But it will, perhaps, be said, that if the knowledge of what is revealed in Scripture be obtainable only by means such as those which have been exemplified in this Essay, the considerations that must be entered into are so remote from common apprehension, that but very few can be supposed to be endowed with capacity for understanding them. This, it must be admitted, is actually the case, and, besides, is in conformity with the arbitrament according to which God grants to an elected few gifts and graces which He withholds from the many. Yet it seems to be the will of God to vouchsafe at {122} certain times and places, and among certain peoples, a more than ordinary measure of knowledge; and perhaps we shall not err in believing that the prophecy in the Book of Daniel, "Many shall run to and fro, and knowledge shall be increased" (xii. 4), is being fulfilled in our time and nation. There is also a remarkable passage in the Apocalypse, which seems to reveal that before "the time of the end" (Dan. xii. 4), the gospel in its most comprehensive sense will be preached among all nations: "And I saw another angel flying in mid-heaven, having the [oe]onian gospel [i.e. the gospel pertaining to the future age] to preach to those that dwell upon the earth, and to every nation and tribe and tongue and people, saying with a loud voice, Fear God, and give Him glory because the hour of His judgment is come: and worship Him who made the heaven, and the earth, and the sea, and fountains of waters" (Rev. xiv. 6, 7). I cannot forbear noticing the coincidence of the plain meaning of the words of this prophecy with the views advocated in this Essay: first, in respect to calling the gospel "[oe]onian" and thus asserting its applicability to the future age; next, in its announcement of the gospel in connection with the advent of "the hour of judgment;" and, lastly, in the loud call the angel makes to the dwellers on earth to give glory and worship to the Creator of heaven, earth, sea, and the fountains of waters. {123} But the dulness of hearers and incapacity to understand the doctrine of Scripture are not the only obstacles those will have to contend against who undertake to preach "the [oe]onian gospel." There are the interests and attractions of the present world, which, since the love of them is necessarily disturbed by the announcement that the world to come offers what is much more to be desired, operate, sometimes it may be in a manner which is not suspected, in hardening the heart against listening to and receiving that gospel. I think that in this way only can it be accounted for that the passages of Scripture which unequivocally declare the salvation of all men are comparatively unattended to, whilst belief is generally expressed in those supposed to be of opposite import. I am apprehensive that on the same accounts the arguments by which I have endeavoured to show that the latter passages admit of being interpreted consistently with the others, will receive little attention. There exists, moreover, in the present day so long-standing and so general an inability to discern the inner and true sense of Scripture, "the letter which killeth" having been preferred to "the spirit which maketh alive," that it has become a matter of much difficulty to comprehend and explain the terms in which the gospel in its entirety is therein proclaimed, and either to give, or to receive, instruction which may conduce to an intelligent acceptance of it. {124} In addition to which there prevails a tendency to rely on traditional and formal doctrine, and to assign to it an authority co-ordinate with that of Scripture, although as having had its origin at times when primitive faith and knowledge had in great measure declined, and "the mystery of iniquity" was already working, it cannot but be mixed with a human element of untruth. This tendency, which appears to be attributable to a consciousness of inability to form an independent judgment of the truths of Scripture, operates at present in creating a prejudice against all attempts to go beyond the boundaries by which Scriptural knowledge is assumed to be circumscribed. Nevertheless, regarding it as a duty to employ the opportunities and the ability which God has given me in making such an attempt, I have endeavoured to place the doctrine of the salvation and immortality of all men on a Scriptural basis, and I have now only to ask for an unprejudiced consideration of the arguments I have adduced for that purpose. [1] See the notes to Rom. v. 12-20, given in pp. 36-38 of my "Translation of St. Paul's Epistle to the Romans" (Cambridge: Deighton and Co, 1871). [2] The treatise referred to is entitled "De Faturâ, Bestauratione," and the passage cited is very near the end of it. This treatise is an appendix to another, the title of which is "De Statu Mortuorum et Resurgentium." [3] So far this explanation of Mark ix. 44 is the same as that which I have given in a letter to the editor of the _Clerical Journal_, which is inserted in the number for June 5, 1862 (p. 526). {125} APPENDIX. I have allowed to stand in the Essay (pp. 76-81) the views I held at the time it was composed respecting the interpretation of Matt. xxv. 46, because I considered that these views, although in certain respects they are inconsistent with those I maintain in this Appendix, might contribute, by comparison with the latter, towards an understanding of the passage. The interpretation which, after long consideration, I have finally adopted, was first published in two letters, contained under the head of "Correspondence," in the numbers of the _Guardian_ for December 27, 1877, and January 16, 1878. With the view of offering some additional arguments in support of that interpretation, and making it more generally intelligible, I propose to begin with producing _in extenso_ the two letters referred to. "ETERNAL PUNISHMENT. "Sir, "After reading attentively the letters of your correspondents to which the sermon of Dr. Farrar has given occasion, it appeared to me that some views in addition to those which have hitherto been proposed, and in certain respects controverting them, may be worthy of consideration. I beg, {126} therefore, to be allowed space for making the following remarks:-- "We are taught in the Scriptures that hereafter there will be a new constitution of the universe, 'new heavens and a new earth wherein dwelleth righteousness' (2 Peter iii. 13), and that in this perfect social state 'there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain' (Rev. xxi. 4). To reconcile this revelation, so intelligible and so comprehensive, with the meaning of passages which seem to say that the punishment of the wicked will be 'endless,' presents a very great difficulty. We are not at liberty in such cases to accept some parts of Scripture and reject others in order to get rid of the difficulty, but must believe that the truth, if it should be reached, will establish the consistency of all, and that seeming contradictions are only due to our ignorance. I propose for consideration the following solution of the above-stated difficulty:-- "Jesus Christ in his ministration on earth said, in the course of giving instruction to his _disciples_ (Matt. xxiv. 3), 'These [on the left hand] shall go into eternal punishment, and the righteous into eternal life' (Matt. xxv. 46). Considering that in all he said and did he had in view his Father's purpose of making the spirits of men meet for immortality, it may be asked, In what way was such teaching contributory to this end? May we not conclude from our Lord's words, apart from all other inferences, that eternal life is necessarily preceded by righteousness, and eternal punishment is as necessarily consequent upon sin, and that the knowledge of these divine decrees contributes to the formation of spirits for the life to come? This inference might be accepted as abstractedly true; but then the question arises, What is meant by _duration_ as signified by the word 'eternal'? It should be remarked that in the statement of the doctrine I have employed the word 'necessarily' in a sense that is not unusual, and is generally thought to be intelligible. But it is to be taken into account that no such use of the term occurs in Scripture, where, in fact, it would be wholly {127} incongruous. The reason of this is that the Scriptures contain no abstract truths which are not expressed, or expressible, in terms understood from the facts and conditions of human experience. This may especially be said of the discourses of our Lord, in consequence of which they are much misunderstood by the many who are incapable of discerning the spiritual through the literal, who, as he said, 'have eyes and see not, and ears and hear not.' Assuming, therefore, that there is truth in speaking of righteousness and life as being _necessarily_ connected, as also of sin and punishment as being in like manner connected, we have to inquire in what way these abstract truths are expressed in the language of Scripture. I venture to make answer that this is done by its recognition of a special faculty we are all conscious of possessing, that of thinking and speaking of time (and space also) as indefinitely extended. (The mathematician knows that without the supposition, whether as to greatness or smallness, of _ad libitum_ extent of space and time, he is unable to conduct his reasoning.) On this principle Scripture speaks of duration through 'ages, and ages,' because by such emphatic reference to our capacity for thinking of unlimited duration, the anterior necessity of certain abstract truths, as especially the being and attributes of Deity, and the characters of divine judgment, is expressed in terms drawn from common thought and experience. "But the omnipotent Creator, who, for purposes towards us, made time and space to be what we perceive them to be, has also the power to change or _unmake_ them. If it were not so, there would be a power above that of the Creator, which is impossible. The difficulty concerning the duration of future punishment appears to be attributable to a preconception tacitly, perhaps unconsciously, entertained by most persons that time and space have an independent existence, although the teaching of Scripture is directly opposed to this view. St. Paul speaks of 'height' and 'depth' as of things _created_ (Rom. viii. 39); St. Peter has, 'One day is with the Lord as a thousand years, and a thousand years as one day' (2 Epist. iii. 8); and in {128} Rev. x. 6 it is expressly said that when the scheme of redemption is finished 'time shall be no more.' The foregoing argument suffices, I think, to show that 'endless' and eternal are not convertible terms, for the special reason that the latter is significant of time as being derived from _[oe]tas_, whereas the other has _per se_ no necessary relation to time. (For the same etymological reason I consider 'eternal' to be preferable to 'ever-lasting.') I cannot forbear adverting here to a serious misstatement, as it seems to me, in Mr. Churton's letter in the Guardian of December 12 (p. 1714). He says that the teaching of Holy Scripture as to the matter of _duration_, is precisely the same with respect to eternal life and eternal death, having apparently overlooked the remarkable expression in Heb. vii. 16, 'indissoluble life' (_zôês akatalytou_), in which endlessness is signified by an epithet not explicitly indicative of time. No such epithet is applied in Scripture to future punishment. This difference is of great importance when taken with reference to the declaration in Scripture that time itself has an end. "It would certainly appear that the apostle Paul did not teach that the future punishment of the wicked will be endless; otherwise, how could he have written, 'God is the Saviour of all men, specially of those that believe' (1 Tim. iv. 10)? Is not this to assert that all are saved in the same sense that some who believe are saved, although there may be difference as to the order or mode of the salvation? We know that in the present age faith avails to save if it rests on the assurance given by the suffering and death of Jesus Christ that by passing through the same gate of suffering we are prepared to enter into life; for such faith yields the fruit of patience and righteousness. But _in the age to come_ there is neither faith, nor repentance, nor _probation_, but 'a certain fearful looking for of judgment and fiery indignation' (Heb. x. 27). The appointed Judge is the Son of man, who, having suffered an unjust and painful death at the hands of sinful men, is entitled to execute the vengeance on sinners. All men are judged; but the elect, {129} who have been sealed by faith and good works, escape condemnation, and are those that are 'specially' saved. The rest are condemned to undergo _the second death_. This is that 'threefold woe' and 'great tribulation' so plainly foretold in Scripture. It was by these 'terrors of the Lord' that St. Paul sought to 'persuade' men, and not, as it would seem, by saying that the misery will be without end. As matter of experience, the preaching of this hopeless destiny does not deter from sin, but only makes sad tender spirits whom God has not made sad. Why should we not rather believe that the purpose of avenging justice is fulfilled when that great and final tribulation (Mark xiii. 19) has availed, in virtue of the suffering whereby the Son of God 'consecrated' the way to life, for the _purification_ and salvation of the condemned, seeing that even saints and martyrs have need to be purified by suffering (see Dan. xii. 10)? This view reconciles all apparent contradictions, and accords with the gospel declared in Rev. xxi. In making the foregoing statements I have necessarily tried to be brief; but I hope, ere long, to be able to publish a justification of them by arguments drawn at greater length from Scripture. "Cambridge, December 21, 1877." "ETERNAL LIFE. "After the publication of my letter in the _Guardian_ of December 27 (p. 1786), I received from various quarters interrogations and arguments, which led me to see that there was an omission in one part of my reasoning, by supplying which the whole of the argument might be made much more complete. In particular, it was maintained by my correspondents, I admit quite logically, that if eternal punishment in Matt. xxv. 4:6 could be taken to mean punishment which has an end, by parity of reasoning 'eternal life' must there mean life which has an end. As I find that the same argument has been adduced in the correspondence of the _Guardian_, I hope I may {130} be allowed, notwithstanding the length to which the discussion of the subject has gone, the opportunity of a supplementary letter for showing how, by rectifying the above-mentioned defect, the views I have proposed meet this difficulty. "In the Scriptures definite mention is made of only two ages, the present age and the future age, or, in other words, 'this world and the world to come' (Matt. xii. 32). The plural ages (_aiônes_) and 'ages of ages' are expressions to which we can by no mental effort attach a definite signification, and consequently, as I endeavoured to show in my former letter, they admit of various abstract applications. As in the present age, so in the age to come, there is a _succession_ of events which take place under conditions of time. These events have received comparatively but small attention in the theology of the present day, apparently because it is not generally seen that they are spoken of much more largely by the prophets of the Old Testament than in the New Testament, in which it is assumed that the old prophets are understood; and again, because the epitome given in the Book of Revelation (see Rev. x. 7) of the communications vouchsafed to the prophets is expressed in symbols which we find it hard to interpret. There are, however, passages in the New Testament which expressly make known the relation of deeds and events of the present age to those of the age to come; as especially our Lord's discourse 'as he sat on the Mount of Olives,' and the apostles 'Peter and James and John and Andrew' asked Him privately to tell them what would be the sign of his coming, and of _the end of the world_ (_tês synteleias tou aiônos_). There is also that remarkable passage in which St. Matthew records that Jesus said to Peter, 'Ye who have followed me, in the regeneration when the Son of man shall sit on the throne of his glory, ye also shall sit on twelve thrones, judging the twelve tribes of Israel.' The number 'twelve' in Scripture symbolism always signifies 'election;' the judges may be presumed to be of the order of prophets and apostles--the elect of the elect--and the twelve tribes of Israel the whole number of the elect (see Rev. vii. 4-8). Now, these {131} twelve times twelve thousand, symbolizing the complete number of the redeemed of every age and nation, are 'the firstfruits unto God and to the Lamb,' and being made perfect by suffering and judgment, farther on in the events of that age 'follow the Lamb whithersoever he goeth,' and together with him execute the final judgment on the whole world (Rev. xix. 14), inclusive even of the judgment on Satan and his angels. This doctrine seems to have been generally taught in the days of the apostles, inasmuch as St. Paul writes to the Corinthians (1 Epist. vi. 2, 3), 'Know ye not that the saints shall judge the world?' 'Know ye not that we shall judge angels?' Even in the Psalms we read, 'This honour have all His saints' (see Psalm cxlix. 6-9). "On these premises, it seems to me, the following argument may be founded relative to the interpretation of Matt. xxv. 46. In that chapter the _separation_ between the sheep and the goats is spoken of as initiatory to the general judgment, and the chapter closes with an exposition of the principles on which the judgment is conducted as regards both the one class and the other. The details and the processes of the judgment, together with its _results_, are to be sought for in the writings of the prophets and in the Book of Revelation. Now, when account is taken of all events of that future life, it may be said, I think, with truth, that the righteous who live and act in it throughout, when that life begins enter into 'eternal life,' the word 'eternal' being applicable because that age has a time-limit. _This_ eternal life, the mention of which was omitted in the former letter, merges into endless, or indissoluble, life, when time is no more, and words expressive of time cease to have application. In an analogous manner the unrighteous may be said to go into 'eternal punishment' when they enter upon the experience of the future age, the limit of the effects of the judgment and punishment which they are doomed to undergo being a 'second death.' However great and terrible may be the woe and tribulation attendant on that event, we know as matter of experience of life at present, that death, of itself, is but a passage into another state of existence. We have, {132} therefore, no right to affirm that after the effects of judgment and punishment are accomplished, the second death is not a transition into that state of things in the new heavens and new earth which is described in Rev. xxi. Rather, may we not conclude that eternal life and eternal punishment terminate alike with the end of time, and that in the consummation of all things both are merged in indissoluble life, that God may be all in all? This conclusion appears to meet the difficulty stated at the beginning of this letter. "I take this opportunity for expressing my approval of the arrangement of the New Lectionary, by which chapters of the Book of Revelation are now read more frequently than formerly before the people, this portion of Scripture being indispensable for communicating to them the doctrine of Jesus Christ in all its integrity. "Cambridge, January 12,1878." The difficulty experienced in the present day of rightly apprehending the doctrine taught by our Lord in Matt. xxv. 46, and in like passages, arises, according to the arguments contained in the Essay and in the foregoing letters, from the little attention that is paid in the Christian doctrine now generally accepted to what the Scriptures reveal respecting "the age to come" (_aiôn ho mellôn_) as distinguished from "the present age" (_aiôn outos, aiôn ho parôn_). The designation "age" applied in common to both, indicates that each has a beginning and an ending. The future age begins at the termination of the present age, the separation between them being the epoch of a resurrection of the dead--not, however, of all the dead, but "a resurrection of the just," that is, of those who have been prepared and sealed by faith, and suffering, and good works, in the present life, for immediate entrance into a new state of life. It is said of these that "they cannot {133} die any more, and are the children of God, being the children of the resurrection" (Luke xx. 36). These are they who "have part in the first resurrection," of whom it is further said that "they _lived_ and reigned with Christ a thousand years," whereas of "the rest of the dead" it is said that "they _lived_ not till the thousand years were finished" (see Rev. xx. 4, 6). It is plain, therefore, that there will be a time of _separation_ of the one class from the other--the time of _threshing_, when the tares are separated from the wheat; and that whilst the elect at that time enter into the _[oe]onian_ life (that is, the life of the age to come), the rest of the dead when they live again enter into a state in which they undergo "[oe]onian punishment" (that is, punishment that pertains to the age to come), ending eventually in the second death, which, however, in common with all divine punishment, is inflicted for producing a certain effect foreordained in the counsels of the Almighty. (Respecting this effect, see what I have said in the Essay and at the end of the first of the foregoing letters.) That the words of the passage in St. Matthew might be understood, at least by the disciples to whom they were addressed, in the sense above indicated, may be inferred from the knowledge of the religious Jews of that time respecting the events of the future age, as conveyed to them by the writings of the prophets of the Old Testament, with which they were familiar. In proof of the general diffusion of such knowledge we may cite the response of Martha to the Lord respecting the resurrection of Lazarus, "I know that he shall rise again at the resurrection in the last day" (John xi. 24), and the common belief of a resurrection of the dead entertained by the numerous sect of the Pharisees, as well as the particular character of the unbelief of the smaller body of Sadducees (see Acts {134} xxiii. 8, where it is stated that "the Sadducees say that there is no resurrection, neither angel, nor spirit: but the Pharisees confess both"). It is hard to perceive etymologically how the word _aiôuios_ could have received the meaning "ever-_lasting_." There is, in fact, a very remarkable passage of the Apocalypse in which that meaning is quite excluded: "And I saw another angel fly in the midst of heaven, having the gospel of the age to come to preach (_euaggelion aiônion euaggelisai_) unto them that dwell on the earth, and to every nation, and kindred, and tongue, and people, saying with a loud voice, Fear God, and give glory to Him; for the hour of His judgment is come: and worship Him that made heaven, and earth, and the sea, and the fountains of waters" (Rev. xiv. 6, 7). It is evident that if _aiônion euaggelion_ here meant an everlasting gospel, the event which the good news is intended to announce would never come. It may, perhaps, be asserted that this passage of the Apocalypse refers to a gospel announcement taking place at the present time, considering that a distinctive feature of this age is a large increase of the knowledge of the facts and laws of nature, and that possibly, contemporaneously with such knowledge, God may vouchsafe a fuller understanding of the Book of Revelation, and a discernment of the [oe]onian gospel it proclaims (compare Dan. xii. 3, 4). That the true interpretation of the Apocalypse will eventually be reached is implied by the words, "Seal not the sayings of the prophecy of this book" (Rev. xxii. 10). On reconsidering the arguments of the Essay it occurred to me that it would be proper to take notice in the Appendix of one other subject. In pages 9, 15, and 63 the doctrine that immortality is dependent on a state of perfected righteousness is regarded as "self-evident." I {135} now think that the use of that term is objectionable, inasmuch as, according to the title of the Essay, every such statement ought to rest wholly on Scriptural ground. I propose, therefore, to adduce here passages of Scripture which indicate an intimate relation between righteousness and life. Out of many texts which might be cited for this purpose, I have selected two, as follows. First, when under the law, Moses said to the Israelites, "I have set before you life and death: choose life," they must have understood his words as signifying that on condition of submission to the will of God and obedience to His righteous laws, they might look forward in faith to the enjoyment of the future covenanted life. (See what is said on this text in p. 28.) Again, the same dependence of life on righteousness forms an essential part of the Gospel of Jesus Christ, although taught in a different manner. St. Paul, for instance, has given in Rom. v. 18, the following summary of Christian doctrine. Therefore as through one transgression (__di henos paraptômatos_), unto all men, unto condemnation (_eis katakrima_), so through one righteousness (_di henos dikaiômatos_, i.e. the obedience unto death of Jesus Christ), unto all men, unto life-justification (_eis dikaiôsin zôês_), where, it should be noticed, _zôês_ is not a dependent genitive, but, as in many instances in New Testament Greek, a genitive of quality. Thus this text declares that the justification of all men, which is their being eventually made righteous through the operation of the Son of God, has the quality of conferring _life_. Transcriber's notes: This book contains many fragments of Greek, so many that the convention of using "[Greek:...] to indicate transliterated Greek passages was abandoned in favor of using underscores to indicate Greek material. Transliteration was done according to the Project Gutenberg Greek How-To guidelines. Underscores are also used to indicate italicized words, but in all cases such words are English words. The sequence "[oe]" is used to indicate the Unicode oe-ligature character. 
19612	----	THEOLOGICAL TRANSLATION LIBRARY EDITED BY THE REV. T. K. CHEYNE MA DD, ORIET PROFESSOR OF INTERPRETATION OXFORD AND THE REV. A. B. BRUCE, DD PROFESSOR OF APOLOGETICS AND NEW TESTAMENT: EXEGESIS, FREE CHURCH COLLEGE GLASGOW VOL II HARNACKS HISTORY OF DOGMA. VOL. I [Greek: To dogmatos onoma tês anthrôpinês echetai boulês te kai gnômês. Hoti de touth' houtos echei, marturei men hikanôs hê dogmatikê tôn iatrôn technê, martyrei de kai ta tôn philosophôn kaloumena dogmata. Hoti de kai ta synklêto doxanta eti kai nun dogmata synklêtou legetai, oudena agnoein oimai.] MARCELLUS OF ANCYRA. Die Christliche Religion hat nichts in der Philosophie zu thun, Sie ist ein machtiges Wesen für sich, woran die gesunkene und leidende Menschheit von Zeit zu Zeit sich immer wieder emporgearbeitet hat, und indem man ihr diese Wirkung zugesteht, ist sie über aller Philosophie erhaben und bedarf von ihr keine Stütze. Gesprache mit GOETHE von ECKERMANN, 2 Th p 39. HISTORY OF DOGMA BY DR. ADOLPH HARNACK ORDINARY PROF. OF CHURCH HISTORY IN THE UNIVERSITY, AND FELLOW OF THE ROYAL ACADEMY OF SCIENCE, BERLIN _TRANSLATED FROM THE THIRD GERMAN EDITION_ BY NEIL BUCHANAN VOL. I. BOSTON LITTLE, BROWN, AND COMPANY 1901 VORWORT ZUR ENGLISCHEN AUSGABE. Ein theologisches Buch erhält erst dadurch einen Platz in der Weltlitteratur, dass es Deutsch und Englisch gelesen werden kann. Diese beiden Sprachen zusammen haben auf dem Gebiete der Wissenschaft vom Christenthum das Lateinische abgelöst. Es ist mir daher eine grosse Freude, dass mein Lehrbuch der Dogmengeschichte in das Englische übersetzt worden ist, und ich sage dem Uebersetzer sowie den Verlegern meinen besten Dank. Der schwierigste Theil der Dogmengeschichte ist ihr Anfang, nicht nur weil in dem Anfang die Keime für alle späteren Entwickelungen liegen, und daher ein Beobachtungsfehler beim Beginn die Richtigkeit der ganzen folgenden Darstellung bedroht, sondern auch desshalb, weil die Auswahl des wichtigsten Stoffs aus der Geschichte des Urchristenthums und der biblischen Theologie ein schweres Problem ist. Der Eine wird finden, dass ich zu viel in das Buch aufgenommen habe, und der Andere zu wenig--vielleicht haben Beide recht; ich kann dagegen nur anführen, dass sich mir die getroffene Auswahl nach wiederholtem Nachdenken und Experimentiren auf's Neue erprobt hat. Wer ein theologisches Buch aufschlägt, fragt gewöhnlich zuerst nach dem "Standpunkt" des Verfassers. Bei geschichtlichen Darstellungen sollte man so nicht fragen. Hier handelt es sich darum, ob der Verfasser einen Sinn hat für den Gegenstand den er darstellt, ob er Originales und Abgeleitetes zu unterscheiden versteht, ob er seinen Stoff volkommen kennt, ob er sich der Grenzen des geschichtlichen Wissens bewusst ist, und ob er wahrhaftig ist. Diese Forderungen enthalten den kategorischen Imperativ für den Historiker; aber nur indem man rastlos an sich selber arbeitet, sind sie zu erfullen,--so ist jede geschichtliche Darstellung eine ethische Aufgabe. Der Historiker soll in jedem Sinn _treu_ sein: ob er das gewesen ist, darnach soll mann fragen. _Berlin_, am 1. Mai, 1894. ADOLF HARNACK. THE AUTHOR'S PREFACE TO THE ENGLISH EDITION. No theological book can obtain a place in the literature of the world unless it can be read both in German and in English. These two languages combined have taken the place of Latin in the sphere of Christian Science. I am therefore greatly pleased to learn that my "History of Dogma" has been translated into English, and I offer my warmest thanks both to the translator and to the publishers. The most difficult part of the history of dogma is the beginning, not only because it contains the germs of all later developments, and therefore an error in observation here endangers the correctness of the whole following account, but also because the selection of the most important material from the history of primitive Christianity and biblical theology is a hard problem. Some will think that I have admitted too much into the book, others too little. Perhaps both are right. I can only reply that after repeated consideration and experiment I continue to be satisfied with my selection. In taking up a theological book we are in the habit of enquiring first of all as to the "stand-point" of the Author. In a historical work there is no room for such enquiry. The question here is, whether the Author is in sympathy with the subject about which he writes, whether he can distinguish original elements from those that are derived, whether he has a thorough acquaintance with his material, whether he is conscious of the limits of historical knowledge, and whether he is truthful. These requirements constitute the categorical imperative for the historian: but they can only be fulfilled by an unwearied self-discipline. Hence every historical study is an ethical task. The historian ought to be faithful in every sense of the word; whether he has been so or not is the question on which his readers have to decide. _Berlin_, 1st May, 1894. ADOLF HARNACK. FROM THE AUTHOR'S PREFACE TO THE FIRST EDITION. The task of describing the genesis of ecclesiastical dogma which I have attempted to perform in the following pages, has hitherto been proposed by very few scholars, and, properly speaking, undertaken by one only. I must therefore crave the indulgence of those acquainted with the subject for an attempt which no future historian of dogma can avoid. At first I meant to confine myself to narrower limits, but I was unable to carry out that intention, because the new arrangement of the material required a more detailed justification. Yet no one will find in the book, which presupposes the knowledge of Church history so far as it is given in the ordinary manuals, any repertory of the theological thought of Christian antiquity. The diversity of Christian ideas, or of ideas closely related to Christianity, was very great in the first centuries. For that very reason a selection was necessary; but it was required, above all, by the aim of the work. The history of dogma has to give an account, only of those doctrines of Christian writers which were authoritative in wide circles, or which furthered the advance of the development; otherwise it would become a collection of monographs, and thereby lose its proper value. I have endeavoured to subordinate everything to the aim of exhibiting the development which led to the ecclesiastical dogmas, and therefore have neither, for example, communicated the details of the gnostic systems, nor brought forward in detail the theological ideas of Clemens Romanus, Ignatius, etc. Even a history of Paulinism will be sought for in the book in vain. It is a task by itself, to trace the aftereffects of the theology of Paul in the post-Apostolic age. The History of Dogma can only furnish fragments here; for it is not consistent with its task to give an accurate account of the history of a theology the effects of which were at first very limited. It is certainly no easy matter to determine what was authoritative in wide circles at the time when dogma was first being developed, and I may confess that I have found the working out of the third chapter of the first book very difficult. But I hope that the severe limitation in the material will be of service to the subject. If the result of this limitation should be to lead students to read connectedly the manual which has grown out of my lectures, my highest wish will be gratified. There can be no great objection to the appearance of a text-book on the history of dogma at the present time. We now know in what direction we have to work; but we still want a history of Christian theological ideas in their relation to contemporary philosophy. Above all, we have not got an exact knowledge of the Hellenistic philosophical terminologies in their development up to the fourth century. I have keenly felt this want, which can only be remedied by well-directed common labour. I have made a plentiful use of the controversial treatise of Celsus against Christianity, of which little use has hitherto been made for the history of dogma. On the other hand, except in a few cases, I have deemed it inadmissible to adduce parallel passages, easy to be got, from Philo, Seneca, Plutarch, Epictetus, Marcus Aurelius, Porphyry, etc.; for only a comparison strictly carried out would have been of value here. I have been able neither to borrow such from others, nor to furnish it myself. Yet I have ventured to submit my work, because, in my opinion, it is possible to prove the dependence of dogma on the Greek spirit, without being compelled to enter into a discussion of all the details. The Publishers of the Encyclopædia Britannica have allowed me to print here, in a form but slightly altered, the articles on Neoplatonism and Manichæism which I wrote for their work, and for this I beg to thank them. It is now eighty-three years since my grandfather, Gustav Ewers, edited in German the excellent manual on the earliest history of dogma by Münter, and thereby got his name associated with the history of the founding of the new study. May the work of the grandson be found not unworthy of the clear and disciplined mind which presided over the beginnings of the young science. _Giessen_, 1st August, 1885. AUTHOR'S PREFACE TO THE SECOND EDITION. In the two years that have passed since the appearance of the first edition I have steadily kept in view the improvement of this work, and have endeavoured to learn from the reviews of it that have appeared. I owe most to the study of Weizsäcker's work, on the Apostolic Age, and his notice of the first edition of this volume in the Göttinger gelehrte Anzeigen, 1886, No. 21. The latter, in several decisive passages concerning the general conception, drew my attention to the fact that I had emphasised certain points too strongly, but had not given due prominence to others of equal importance, while not entirely overlooking them. I have convinced myself that these hints were, almost throughout, well founded, and have taken pains to meet them in the new edition. I have also learned from Heinrici's commentary on the Second Epistle to the Corinthians, and from Bigg's "Lectures on the Christian Platonists of Alexandria." Apart from these works there has appeared very little that could be of significance for my historical account; but I have once more independently considered the main problems, and in some cases, after repeated reading of the sources, checked my statements, removed mistakes and explained what had been too briefly stated. Thus, in particular, Chapter II. §§ 1-3 of the "Presuppositions", also the Third Chapter of the First Book (especially Section 6), also in the Second Book, Chapter I. and Chapter II. (under B), the Third Chapter (Supplement 3 and excursus on "Catholic and Romish"), the Fifth Chapter (under 1 and 3) and the Sixth Chapter (under 2) have been subjected to changes and greater additions. Finally, a new excursus has been added on the various modes of conceiving pre-existence, and in other respects many things have been improved in detail. The size of the book has thereby been increased by about fifty pages. As I have been misrepresented by some as one who knew not how to appreciate the uniqueness of the Gospel history and the evangelic faith, while others have conversely reproached me with making the history of dogma proceed from an "apostasy" from the Gospel to Hellenism, I have taken pains to state my opinions on both these points as clearly as possible. In doing so I have only wrought out the hints which were given in the first edition, and which, as I supposed, were sufficient for readers. But it is surely a reasonable desire when I request the critics in reading the paragraphs which treat of the "Presuppositions", not to forget how difficult the questions there dealt with are, both in themselves and from the nature of the sources, and how exposed to criticism the historian is who attempts to unfold his position towards them in a few pages. As is self-evident, the centre of gravity of the book lies in that which forms its subject proper, in the account of the origin of dogma within the Græco-Roman empire. But one should not on that account, as many have done, pass over the beginning which lies before the beginning, or arbitrarily adopt a starting-point of his own; for everything here depends on where and how one begins. I have not therefore been able to follow the well-meant counsel to simply strike out the "Presuppositions." I would gladly have responded to another advice to work up the notes into the text; but I would then have been compelled to double the size of some chapters. The form of this book, in many respects awkward, may continue as it is so long as it represents the difficulties by which the subject is still pressed. When they have been removed--and the smallest number of them lie in the subject matter--I will gladly break up this form of the book and try to give it another shape. For the friendly reception given to it I have to offer my heartiest thanks. But against those who, believing themselves in possession of a richer view of the history here related, have called my conception meagre, I appeal to the beautiful words of Tertullian; "Malumus in scripturis minus, si forte, sapere quam contra." _Marburg_, 24th December, 1887. AUTHOR'S PREFACE TO THE THIRD EDITION. In the six years that have passed since the appearance of the second edition I have continued to work at the book, and have made use of the new sources and investigations that have appeared during this period, as well as corrected and extended my account in many passages. Yet I have not found it necessary to make many changes in the second half of the work. The increase of about sixty pages is almost entirely in the first half. _Berlin_, 31st December, 1893 CONTENTS INTRODUCTORY DIVISION. CHAPTER I.--PROLEGOMENA TO THE STUDY OF THE HISTORY OF DOGMA § 1. The Idea and Task of the History of Dogma Definition Limits and Divisions Dogma and Theology Factors in the formation of Dogma Explanation as to the conception and task of the History of Dogma § 2. History of the History of Dogma The Early, the Mediæval, and the Roman Catholic Church The Reformers and the 17th Century Mosheim, Walch, Ernesti Lessing, Semler, Lange, Münscher, Baumgarten-Crusius, Meier Baur, Neander, Kliefoth, Thomasius, Nitzsch, Ritschl, Renan, Loofs CHAPTER II.--THE PRESUPPOSITIONS OF THE HISTORY OF DOGMA § 1. Introductory The Gospel and the Old Testament The Detachment of the Christians from the Jewish Church The Church and the Græco-Roman World The Greek spirit an element of the Ecclesiastical Doctrine of Faith The Elements connecting Primitive Christianity and the growing Catholic Church The Presuppositions of the origin of the Apostolic Catholic Doctrine of Faith § 2. The Gospel of Jesus Christ according to His own Testimony concerning Himself Fundamental Features Details Supplements Literature § 3. The Common Preaching concerning Jesus Christ in the first generation of believers. General Outline The faith of the first Disciples The beginnings of Christology Conceptions of the Work of Jesus Belief in the Resurrection Righteousness and the Law Paul The Self-consciousness of being the Church of God Supplement 1. Universalism Supplement 2. Questions as to the value of the Law; the four main tendencies at the close of the Apostolic Age Supplement 3. The Pauline Theology. Supplement 4. The Johannine Writings Supplement 5. The Authorities in the Church § 4. The current Exposition of the Old Testament and the Jewish hopes of the future in their significance for the Earliest types of Christian preaching The Rabbinical and Exegetical Methods The Jewish Apocalyptic literature Mythologies and poetical ideas, notions of pre-existence and their application to Messiah The limits of the explicable Literature § 5. The Religious Conceptions and the Religious Philosophy of the Hellenistic Jews in their significance for the later formulation of the Gospel Spiritualising and Moralising of the Jewish Religion Philo The Hermeneutic principles of Philo § 6. The religious dispositions of the Greeks and Romans in the first two centuries, and the current Græco-Roman philosophy of religion The new religious needs and the old worship (Excursus on [Greek: theos]) The System of associations, and the Empire Philosophy and its acquisitions Platonic and Stoic Elements in the philosophy of religion Greek culture and Roman ideas in the Church The Empire and philosophic schools (the Cynics) Literature SUPPLEMENTARY. (1) The twofold conception of the blessing of Salvation in its significance for the following period (2) Obscurity in the origin of the most important Christian ideas and Ecclesiastical forms (3) Significance of the Pauline theology for the legitimising and reformation of the doctrine of the Church in the following period DIVISION I.--THE GENESIS OF ECCLESIASTICAL DOGMA, OR THE GENESIS OF THE CATHOLIC APOSTOLIC DOGMATIC THEOLOGY, AND THE FIRST SCIENTIFIC ECCLESIASTICAL SYSTEM OF DOCTRINE. BOOK I. THE PREPARATION. CHAPTER I. HISTORICAL SURVEY CHAPTER II.--THE ELEMENT COMMON TO ALL CHRISTIANS AND THE BREACH WITH JUDAISM CHAPTER III. THE COMMON FAITH AND THE BEGINNINGS OF KNOWLEDGE IN GENTILE CHRISTIANITY AS IT WAS BEING DEVELOPED INTO CATHOLICISM (1) The Communities and the Church (2) The Foundations of the Faith; the Old Testament, and the traditions about Jesus (sayings of Jesus, the _Kerygma_ about Jesus), the significance of the "Apostolic" (3) The main articles of Christianity and the conceptions of salvation. The new law. Eschatology. (4) The Old Testament as source of the knowledge of faith (5) The knowledge of God and of the world, estimate of the world (Demons) (6) Faith in Jesus Christ Jesus the Lord. Jesus the Christ Jesus the Son of God, the _Theologia Christi_ The Adoptian and the Pneumatic Christology Ideas of Christ's work (7) The Worship, the sacred actions, and the organisation of the Churches The Worship and Sacrifice Baptism and the Lord's Supper The organisation SUPPLEMENTARY. The premises of Catholicism Doctrinal diversities of the Apostolical Fathers CHAPTER IV.--THE ATTEMPTS OF THE GNOSTICS TO CREATE AN APOSTOLIC DOGMATIC, AND A CHRISTIAN THEOLOGY; OR THE ACUTE SECULARISING OF CHRISTIANITY (1) The conditions for the rise of Gnosticism. (2) The nature of Gnosticism (3) History of Gnosticism and the forms in which it appeared (4) The most important Gnostic doctrines CHAPTER V.--THE ATTEMPT OF MARCION TO SET ASIDE THE OLD TESTAMENT FOUNDATION OF CHRISTIANITY, TO PURIFY THE TRADITION AND REFORM CHRISTENDOM ON THE BASIS OF THE PAULINE GOSPEL Characterisation of Marcion's attempt (1) His estimate of the Old Testament and the god of the Jews (2) The God of the Gospel (3) The relation of the two Gods according to Marcion. The Gnostic woof in Marcion's Christianity (4) The Christology (5) Eschatology and Ethics (6) Criticism of the Christian tradition, the Marcionite Church Remarks CHAPTER VI.--THE CHRISTIANITY OF JEWISH CHRISTIANS, DEFINITION OF THE NOTION JEWISH CHRISTIANITY (1) General conditions for the development of Jewish Christianity (2) Jewish Christianity and the Catholic Church, insignificance of Jewish Christianity, "Judaising" in Catholicism Alleged documents of Jewish Christianity (Apocalypse of John, Acts of the Apostles, Epistle to the Hebrews, Hegesippus) History of Jewish Christianity The witness of Justin The witness of Celsus The witness of Irenæus and Origen The witness of Eusebius and Jerome The Gnostic Jewish Christianity The Elkesaites and Ebionites of Epiphanius Estimate of the Pseudo-Clementine Recognitions and Homilies, their want of significance for the question as to the genesis of Catholicism and its doctrine APPENDICES. I. On the different notions of Pre-existence. II. On Liturgies and the genesis of Dogma. III. On Neoplatonism Literature I PROLEGOMENA TO THE DISCIPLINE OF THE HISTORY OF DOGMA. II THE PRESUPPOSITIONS OF THE HISTORY OF DOGMA. CHAPTER I PROLEGOMENA TO THE DISCIPLINE OF THE HISTORY OF DOGMA. § 1. _The Idea and Task of the History of Dogma_. 1. The History of Dogma is a discipline of general Church History, which has for its object the dogmas of the Church. These dogmas are the doctrines of the Christian faith logically formulated and expressed for scientific and apologetic purposes, the contents of which are a knowledge of God, of the world, and of the provisions made by God for man's salvation. The Christian Churches teach them as the truths revealed in Holy Scripture, the acknowledgment of which is the condition of the salvation which religion promises. But as the adherents of the Christian religion had not these dogmas from the beginning, so far, at least, as they form a connected system, the business of the history of dogma is, in the first place, to ascertain the origin of Dogmas (of Dogma), and then secondly, to describe their development (their variations). 2. We cannot draw any hard and fast line between the time of the origin and that of the development of dogma; they rather shade off into one another. But we shall have to look for the final point of division at the time when an article of faith logically formulated and scientifically expressed, was first raised to the _articulus constitutivus ecclesiæ_, and as such was universally enforced by the Church. Now that first happened when the doctrine of Christ, as the pre-existent and personal Logos of God, had obtained acceptance everywhere in the confederated Churches as the revealed and fundamental doctrine of faith, that is, about the end of the third century or the beginning of the fourth. We must therefore, in our account, take this as the final point of division.[1] As to the development of dogma, it seems to have closed in the Eastern Church with the seventh Oecumenical Council (787). After that time no further dogmas were set up in the East as revealed truths. As to the Western Catholic, that is, the Romish Church, a new dogma was promulgated as late as the year 1870, which claims to be, and in point of form really is, equal in dignity to the old dogmas. Here, therefore, the History of Dogma must extend to the present time. Finally, as regards the Protestant Churches, they are a subject of special difficulty in the sphere of the history of dogma; for at the present moment there is no agreement within these Churches as to whether, and in what sense, dogmas (as the word was used in the ancient Church) are valid. But even if we leave the present out of account and fix our attention on the Protestant Churches of the 16th century, the decision is difficult. For, on the one hand, the Protestant faith, the Lutheran as well as the Reformed (and that of Luther no less), presents itself as a doctrine of faith which, resting on the Catholic canon of scripture, is, in point of form, quite analogous to the Catholic doctrine of faith, has a series of dogmas in common with it, and only differs in a few. On the other hand, Protestantism has taken its stand in principle on the Gospel exclusively, and declared its readiness at all times to test all doctrines afresh by a true understanding of the Gospel. The Reformers, however, in addition to this, began to unfold a conception of Christianity which might be described, in contrast with the Catholic type of religion, as a new conception, and which indeed draws support from the old dogmas, but changes their original significance materially and formally. What this conception was may still be ascertained from those writings received by the Church, the Protestant symbols of the 16th century, in which the larger part of the traditionary dogmas are recognised as the appropriate expression of the Christian religion, nay, as the Christian religion itself.[2] Accordingly, it can neither be maintained that the expression of the Christian faith in the form of dogmas is abolished in the Protestant Churches--the very acceptance of the Catholic canon as the revealed record of faith is opposed to that view--nor that its meaning has remained absolutely unchanged.[3] The history of dogma has simply to recognise this state of things, and to represent it exactly as it lies before us in the documents. But the point to which the historian should advance here still remains an open question. If we adhere strictly to the definition of the idea of dogma given above, this much is certain, that dogmas were no longer set up after the Formula of Concord, or in the case of the Reformed Church, after the decrees of the Synod of Dort. It cannot, however, be maintained that they have been set aside in the centuries that have passed since then; for apart from some Protestant National and independent Churches, which are too insignificant and whose future is too uncertain to be taken into account here, the ecclesiastical tradition of the 16th century, and along with it the tradition of the early Church, have not been abrogated in authoritative form. Of course, changes of the greatest importance with regard to doctrine have appeared everywhere in Protestantism from the 17th century to the present day. But these changes cannot in any sense be taken into account in a history of dogma, because they have not as yet attained a form valid for the Church. However we may judge of these changes, whether we regard them as corruptions or improvements, or explain the want of fixity in which the Protestant Churches find themselves, as a situation that is forced on them, or the situation that is agreeable to them and for which they are adapted, in no sense is there here a development which could be described as history of dogma. These facts would seem to justify those who, like Thomasius and Schmid, carry the history of dogma in Protestantism to the Formula of Concord, or, in the case of the Reformed Church, to the decrees of the Synod of Dort. But it may be objected to this boundary line; (1) That those symbols have at all times attained only a partial authority in Protestantism; (2) That as noted above, the dogmas, that is, the formulated doctrines of faith have different meanings on different matters in the Protestant and in the Catholic Churches. Accordingly, it seems advisable within the frame-work of the history of dogma, to examine Protestantism only so far as this is necessary for obtaining a knowledge of its deviations from the Catholic dogma materially and formally, that is, to ascertain the original position of the Reformers with regard to the doctrine of the Church, a position which is beset with contradictions. The more accurately we determine the relation of the Reformers to Catholicism, the more intelligible will be the developments which Protestantism has passed through in the course of its history. But these developments themselves (retrocession and advance) do not belong to the sphere of the history of dogma, because they stand in no comparable relation to the course of the history of dogma within the Catholic Church. As history of Protestant doctrines they form a peculiar independent province of Church history. As to the division of the history of dogma, it consists of two main parts. The first has to describe the origin of dogma, that is, of the Apostolic Catholic system of doctrine based on the foundation of the tradition authoritatively embodied in the creeds and Holy scripture, and extends to the beginning of the fourth century. This may be conveniently divided into two parts, the first of which will treat of the preparation, the second of the establishment of the ecclesiastical doctrine of faith. The second main part, which has to portray the development of dogma, comprehends three stages. In the first stage the doctrine of faith appears as Theology and Christology. The Eastern Church has never got beyond this stage, although it has to a large extent enriched dogma ritually and mystically (see the decrees of the seventh council). We will have to shew how the doctrines of faith formed in this stage have remained for all time in the Church dogmas [Greek: kat' exochên]. The second stage was initiated by Augustine. The doctrine of faith appears here on the one side completed, and on the other re-expressed by new dogmas, which treat of the relation of sin and grace, freedom and grace, grace and the means of grace. The number and importance of the dogmas that were, in the middle ages, really fixed after Augustine's time, had no relation to the range and importance of the questions which they raised, and which emerged in the course of centuries in consequence of advancing knowledge, and not less in consequence of the growing power of the Church. Accordingly, in this second stage which comprehends the whole of the middle ages, the Church as an institution kept believers together in a larger measure than was possible to dogmas. These in their accepted form were too poor to enable them to be the expression of religious conviction and the regulator of Church life. On the other hand, the new decisions of Theologians, Councils and Popes, did not yet possess the authority which could have made them incontestable truths of faith. The third stage begins with the Reformation, which compelled the Church to fix its faith on the basis of the theological work of the middle ages. Thus arose the Roman Catholic dogma which has found in the Vatican decrees its provisional settlement. This Roman Catholic dogma, as it was formulated at Trent, was moulded in express opposition to the Theses of the Reformers. But these Theses themselves represent a peculiar conception of Christianity, which has its root in the theology of Paul and Augustine, and includes either explicitly or implicitly a revision of the whole ecclesiastical tradition, and therefore of dogma also. The History of Dogma in this last stage, therefore, has a twofold task. It has, on the one hand, to present the Romish dogma as a product of the ecclesiastical development of the middle ages under the influence of the Reformation faith which was to be rejected, and on the other hand, to portray the conservative new formation which we have in original Protestantism, and determine its relation to dogma. A closer examination, however, shews that in none of the great confessions does religion live in dogma, as of old. Dogma everywhere has fallen into the background; in the Eastern Church it has given place to ritual, in the Roman Church to ecclesiastical instructions, in the Protestant Churches, so far as they are mindful of their origin, to the Gospel. At the same time, however, the paradoxical fact is unmistakable that dogma as such is nowhere at this moment so powerful as in the Protestant Churches, though by their history they are furthest removed from it. Here, however, it comes into consideration as an object of immediate religious interest, which, strictly speaking, in the Catholic Church is not the case.[4] The Council of Trent was simply wrung from the Romish Church, and she has made the dogmas of that council in a certain sense innocuous by the Vatican decrees.[5] In this sense, it may be said that the period of development of dogma is altogether closed, and that therefore our discipline requires a statement such as belongs to a series of historical phenomena that has been completed. 3. The church has recognised her faith, that is religion itself, in her dogmas. Accordingly, one very important business of the History of Dogma is to exhibit the unity that exists in the dogmas of a definite period, and to shew how the several dogmas are connected with one another and what leading ideas they express. But, as a matter of course, this undertaking has its limits in the degree of unanimity which actually existed in the dogmas of the particular period. It may be shewn without much difficulty, that a strict though by no means absolute unanimity is expressed only in the dogmas of the Greek Church. The peculiar character of the western post-Augustinian ecclesiastical conception of Christianity, no longer finds a clear expression in dogma, and still less is this the case with the conception of the Reformers. The reason of this is that Augustine, as well as Luther, disclosed a new conception of Christianity, but at the same time appropriated the old dogmas.[6] But neither Baur's nor Kliefoth's method of writing the history of dogma has done justice to this fact. Not Baur's, because, notwithstanding the division into six periods, it sees a uniform process in the development of dogma, a process which begins with the origin of Christianity and has run its course, as is alleged, in a strictly logical way. Not Kliefoth's, because, in the dogmas of the Catholic Church which the East has never got beyond, it only ascertains the establishment of one portion of the Christian faith, to which the parts still wanting have been successively added in later times.[7] In contrast with this, we may refer to the fact that we can clearly distinguish three styles of building in the history of dogma, but only three; the style of Origen, that of Augustine, and that of the Reformers. But the dogma of the post-Augustinian Church, as well as that of Luther, does not in any way represent itself as a new building, not even as the mere extension of an old building, but as a complicated rebuilding, and by no means in harmony with former styles, because neither Augustine nor Luther ever dreamed of building independently.[8] This perception leads us to the most peculiar phenomenon which meets the historian of dogma, and which must determine his method. Dogmas arise, develop themselves and are made serviceable to new aims; this in all cases takes place through Theology. But Theology is dependent on innumerable factors, above all, on the spirit of the time; for it lies in the nature of theology that it desires to make its object intelligible. Dogmas are the product of theology, not inversely; of a theology of course which, as a rule, was in correspondence with the faith of the time. The critical view of history teaches this: first we have the Apologists and Origen, then the councils of Nice and Chalcedon; first the Scholastics, then the Council of Trent. In consequence of this, dogma bears the mark of all, the factors on which the theology was dependent. That is one point. But the moment in which the product of theology became dogma, the way which led to it must be obscured; for, according to the conception of the Church, dogma can be nothing else than the revealed faith itself. Dogma is regarded not as the exponent, but as the basis of theology, and therefore the product of theology having passed into dogma limits, and criticises the work of theology both past and future.[9] That is the second point. It follows from this that the history of the Christian religion embraces a very complicated relation of ecclesiastical dogma and theology, and that the ecclesiastical conception of the significance of theology cannot at all do justice to this significance. The ecclesiastical scheme which is here formed and which denotes the utmost concession that can be made to history, is to the effect that theology gives expression only to the form of dogma, while so far as it is ecclesiastical theology, it presupposes the unchanging dogma, i.e., the substance of dogma. But this scheme, which must always leave uncertain what the form really is, and what the substance, is in no way applicable to the actual circumstances. So far, however, as it is itself an article of faith it is an object of the history of dogma. Ecclesiastical dogma when put on its defence must at all times take up an ambiguous position towards theology, and ecclesiastical theology a corresponding position towards dogma; for they are condemned to perpetual uncertainty as to what they owe each other, and what they have to fear from each other. The theological Fathers of dogma have almost without exception failed to escape being condemned by dogma, either because it went beyond them, or lagged behind their theology. The Apologists, Origen and Augustine may be cited in support of this; and even in Protestantism, _mutatis mutandis_, the same thing has been repeated, as is proved by the fate of Melanchthon and Schleiermacher. On the other hand, there have been few theologians who have not shaken some article of the traditional dogma. We are wont to get rid of these fundamental facts by hypostatising the ecclesiastical principle or the common ecclesiastical spirit, and by this normal hypostasis, measuring, approving or condemning the doctrines of the theologians, unconcerned about the actual conditions and frequently following a hysteron-proteron. But this is a view of history which should in justice be left to the Catholic Church, which indeed cannot dispense with it. The critical history of dogma has, on the contrary, to shew above all how an ecclesiastical theology has arisen; for it can only give account of the origin of dogma in connection with this main question. The horizon must be taken here as wide as possible; for the question as to the origin of theology can only be answered by surveying all the relations into which the Christian religion has entered in naturalising itself in the world and subduing it. When ecclesiastical dogma has once been created and recognised as an immediate expression of the Christian religion, the history of dogma has only to take the history of theology into account so far as it has been active in the formation of dogma. Yet it must always keep in view the peculiar claim of dogma to be a criterion and not a product of theology. But it will also be able to shew how, partly by means of theology and partly by other means--for dogma is also dependent on ritual, constitution, and the practical ideals of life, as well as on the letter, whether of Scripture, or of tradition no longer understood--dogma in its development and re-expression has continually changed, according to the conditions under which the Church was placed. If dogma is originally the formulation of Christian faith as Greek culture understood it and justified it to itself, then dogma has never indeed lost this character, though it has been radically modified in later times. It is quite as important to keep in view the tenacity of dogma as its changes, and in this respect the Protestant way of writing history, which, here as elsewhere in the history of the Church, is more disposed to attend to differences than to what is permanent, has much to learn from the Catholic. But as the Protestant historian, as far possible, judges of the progress of development in so far as it agrees with the Gospel in its documentary form, he is still able to shew, with all deference to that tenacity, that dogma has been so modified and used to the best advantage by Augustine and Luther, that its Christian character has in many respects gained, though in other respects it has become further and further alienated from that character. In proportion as the traditional system of dogmas lost its stringency it became richer. In proportion as it was stripped by Augustine and Luther of its apologetic philosophic tendency, it was more and more filled with Biblical ideas, though, on the other hand, it became more full of contradictions and less impressive. This outlook, however, has already gone beyond the limits fixed for these introductory paragraphs and must not be pursued further. To treat _in abstracto_ of the method of the history of dogma in relation to the discovery, grouping and interpretation of the material is not to be recommended; for general rules to preserve the ignorant and half instructed from overlooking the important, and laying hold of what is not important, cannot be laid down. Certainly everything depends on the arrangement of the material; for the understanding of history is to find the rules according to which the phenomena should be grouped, and every advance in the knowledge of history is inseparable from an accurate observance of these rules. We must, above all, be on our guard against preferring one principle at the expense of another in the interpretation of the origin and aim of particular dogmas. The most diverse factors have at all times been at work in the formation of dogmas. Next to the effort to determine the doctrine of religion according to the _finis religionis_, the blessing of salvation, the following may have been the most important. (1) The conceptions and sayings contained in the canonical scriptures. (2) The doctrinal tradition originating in earlier epochs of the church, and no longer understood. (3) The needs of worship and organisation. (4) The effort to adjust the doctrine of religion to the prevailing doctrinal opinions. (5) Political and social circumstances. (6) The changing moral ideals of life. (7) The so-called logical consistency, that is the abstract analogical treatment of one dogma according to the form of another. (8) The effort to adjust different tendencies and contradictions in the church. (9) The endeavour to reject once for all a doctrine regarded as erroneous. (10) The sanctifying power of blind custom. The method of explaining everything wherever possible by "the impulse of dogma to unfold itself," must be given up as unscientific, just as all empty abstractions whatsoever must be given up as scholastic and mythological. Dogma has had its history in the individual living man and nowhere else. As soon as one adopts this statement in real earnest, that mediæval realism must vanish to which a man so often thinks himself superior while imbedded in it all the time. Instead of investigating the actual conditions in which believing and intelligent men have been placed, a system of Christianity has been constructed from which, as from a Pandora's box, all doctrines which in course of time have been formed, are extracted, and in this way legitimised as Christian. The simple fundamental proposition that that only is Christian which can be established authoritatively by the Gospel, has never yet received justice in the history of dogma. Even the following account will in all probability come short in this point; for in face of a prevailing false tradition the application of a simple principle to every detail can hardly succeed at the first attempt. _Explanation as to the Conception and Task of the History of Dogma_. No agreement as yet prevails with regard to the conception of the history of dogma. Münscher (Handbuch der Christl. D.G. 3rd ed. I. p. 3 f.) declared that the business of the history of dogma is "To represent all the changes which the theoretic part of the Christian doctrine of religion has gone through from its origin up to the present, both in form and substance," and this definition held sway for a long time. Then it came to be noted that the question was not about changes that were accidental, but about those that were historically necessary, that dogma has a relation to the church, and that it represents a rational expression of the faith. Emphasis was put sometimes on one of these elements and sometimes on the other. Baur, in particular, insisted on the first; V. Hofmann, after the example of Schleiermacher, on the second, and indeed exclusively (Encyklop. der theol. p. 257 f.: "The history of dogma is the history of the Church confessing the faith in words"). Nitzsch (Grundriss der Christl. D.G. I. p. 1) insisted on the third: "The history of dogma is the scientific account of the origin and development of the Christian system of doctrine, or that part of historical theology which presents the history of the expression of the Christian faith in notions, doctrines and doctrinal systems." Thomasius has combined the second and third by conceiving the history of dogma as the history of the development of the ecclesiastical system of doctrine. But even this conception is not sufficiently definite, inasmuch as it fails to do complete justice to the special peculiarity of the subject. Ancient and modern usage does certainly seem to allow the word dogma to be applied to particular doctrines, or to a uniform system of doctrine, to fundamental truths, or to opinions, to theoretical propositions or practical rules, to statements of belief that have not been reached by a process of reasoning, as well as to those that bear the marks of such a process. But this uncertainty vanishes on closer examination. We then see that there is always an authority at the basis of dogma, which gives it to those who recognise that authority the signification of a fundamental truth "_quæ sine scelere prodi non poterit_" (Cicero Quæst. Acad. IV. 9). But therewith at the same time is introduced into the idea of dogma a social element (see Biedermann, Christl. Dogmatik. 2. Edit. I. p. 2 f.); the confessors of one and the same dogma form a community. There can be no doubt that these two elements are also demonstrable in Christian dogma, and therefore we must reject all definitions of the history of dogma which do not take them into account. If we define it as the history of the understanding of Christianity by itself, or as the history of the changes of the theoretic part of the doctrine of religion or the like, we shall fail to do justice to the idea of dogma in its most general acceptation. We cannot describe as dogmas, doctrines such as the Apokatastasis, or the Kenosis of the Son of God, without coming into conflict with the ordinary usage of language and with ecclesiastical law. If we start, therefore, from the supposition that Christian dogma is an ecclesiastical doctrine which presupposes revelation as its authority, and therefore claims to be strictly binding, we shall fail to bring out its real nature with anything like completeness. That which Protestants and Catholics call dogmas, are not only ecclesiastical doctrines, but they are also: (1) theses expressed in abstract terms, forming together a unity, and fixing the contents of the Christian religion as a knowledge of God, of the world, and of the sacred history under the aspect of a proof of the truth. But (2) they have also emerged at a definite stage of the history of the Christian religion; they show in their conception as such, and in many details, the influence of that stage, viz., the Greek period, and they have preserved this character in spite of all their reconstructions and additions in after periods. This view of dogma cannot be shaken by the fact that particular historical facts, miraculous or not miraculous are described as dogmas; for here they are regarded as such, only in so far as they have got the value of doctrines which have been inserted in the complete structure of doctrines and are, on the other hand, members of a chain of proofs, viz., proofs from prophecy. But as soon as we perceive this, the parallel between the ecclesiastical dogmas and those of ancient schools of philosophy appears to be in point of form complete. The only difference is that revelation is here put as authority in the place of human knowledge, although the later philosophic schools appealed to revelation also. The theoretical as well as the practical doctrines which embraced the peculiar conception of the world and the ethics of the school, together with their rationale, were described in these schools as dogmas. Now, in so far as the adherents of the Christian religion possess dogmas in this sense, and form a community which has gained an understanding of its religious faith by analysis and by scientific definition and grounding, they appear as a great philosophic school in the ancient sense of the word. But they differ from such a school in so far as they have always eliminated the process of thought which has led to the dogma, looking upon the whole system of dogma as a revelation and therefore, even in respect of the reception of the dogma, at least at first, they have taken account not of the powers of human understanding, but of the Divine enlightenment which is bestowed on all the willing and the virtuous. In later times, indeed, the analogy was far more complete, in so far as the Church reserved the full possession of dogma to a circle of consecrated and initiated individuals. Dogmatic Christianity is therefore a definite stage in the history of the development of Christianity. It corresponds to the antique mode of thought, but has nevertheless continued to a very great extent in the following epochs, though subject to great transformations. Dogmatic Christianity stands between Christianity as the religion of the Gospel, presupposing a personal experience and dealing with disposition and conduct, and Christianity as a religion of cultus, sacraments, ceremonial and obedience, in short of superstition, and it can be united with either the one or the other. In itself and in spite of all its mysteries it is always intellectual Christianity, and therefore there is always the danger here that as knowledge it may supplant religious faith, or connect it with a doctrine of religion, instead of with God and a living experience. If then the discipline of the history of dogma is to be what its name purports, its object is the very dogma which is so formed, and its fundamental problem will be to discover how it has arisen. In the history of the canon our method of procedure has for long been to ask first of all, how the canon originated, and then to examine the changes through which it has passed. We must proceed in the same way with the history of dogma, of which the history of the canon is simply a part. Two objections will be raised against this. In the first place, it will be said that from the very first the Christian religion has included a definite religious faith as well as a definite ethic, and that therefore Christian dogma is as original as Christianity itself, so that there can be no question about a genesis, but only as to a development or alteration of dogma within the Church. Again it will be said, in the second place, that dogma as defined above, has validity only for a definite epoch in the history of the Church, and that it is therefore quite impossible to write a comprehensive history of dogma in the sense we have indicated. As to the first objection, there can of course be no doubt that the Christian religion is founded on a message, the contents of which are a definite belief in God and in Jesus Christ whom he has sent, and that the promise of salvation is attached to this belief. But faith in the Gospel and the later dogmas of the Church are not related to each other as theme and the way in which it is worked out, any more than the dogma of the New Testament canon is only the explication of the original reliance of Christians on the word of their Lord and the continuous working of the Spirit; but in these later dogmas an entirely new element has entered into the conception of religion. The message of religion appears here clothed in a knowledge of the world and of the ground of the world which had already been obtained without any reference to it, and therefore religion itself has here become a doctrine which has, indeed, its certainty in the Gospel, but only in part derives its contents from it, and which can also be appropriated by such as are neither poor in spirit nor weary and heavy laden. Now, it may of course be shewn that a philosophic conception of the Christian religion is possible, and began to make its appearance from the very first, as in the case of Paul. But the Pauline gnosis has neither been simply identified with the Gospel by Paul himself (1 Cor. III. 2 f.; XII. 3; Phil. I. 18) nor is it analogous to the later dogma, not to speak of being identical with it. The characteristic of this dogma is that it represents itself in no sense as foolishness, but as wisdom, and at the same time desires to be regarded as the contents of revelation itself. Dogma in its conception and development is a work of the Greek spirit on the soil of the Gospel. By comprehending in itself and giving excellent expression to the religious conceptions contained in Greek philosophy and the Gospel, together with its Old Testament basis; by meeting the search for a revelation as well as the desire for a universal knowledge; by subordinating itself to the aim of the Christian religion to bring a Divine life to humanity as well as to the aim of philosophy to know the world: it became the instrument by which the Church conquered the ancient world and educated the modern nations. But this dogma--one cannot but admire its formation or fail to regard it as a great achievement of the spirit, which never again in the history of Christianity has made itself at home with such freedom and boldness in religion--is the product of a comparatively long history which needs to be deciphered; for it is obscured by the completed dogma. The Gospel itself is not dogma, for belief in the Gospel provides room for knowledge only so far as it is a state of feeling and course of action, that is a definite form of life. Between practical faith in the Gospel and the historico-critical account of the Christian religion and its history, a third element can no longer be thrust in without its coming into conflict with faith, or with the historical data--the only thing left is the practical task of defending the faith. But a third element has been thrust into the history of this religion, viz., dogma, that is, the philosophical means which were used in early times for the purpose of making the Gospel intelligible have been fused with the contents of the Gospel and raised to dogma. This dogma, next to the Church, has become a real world power, the pivot in the history of the Christian religion. The transformation of the Christian faith into dogma is indeed no accident, but has its reason in the spiritual character of the Christian religion, which at all times will feel the need of a scientific apologetic.[10] But the question here is not as to something indefinite and general, but as to the definite dogma formed in the first centuries, and binding even yet. This already touches on the second objection which was raised above, that dogma, in the given sense of the word, was too narrowly conceived, and could not in this conception be applied throughout the whole history of the Church. This objection would only be justified, if our task were to carry the history of the development of dogma through the whole history of the Church. But the question is just whether we are right in proposing such a task. The Greek Church has no history of dogma after the seven great Councils, and it is incomparably more important to recognise this fact than to register the theologoumena which were later on introduced by individual Bishops and scholars in the East, who were partly influenced by the West. Roman Catholicism in its dogmas, though, as noted above, these at present do not very clearly characterise it, is to-day essentially--that is, so far as it is religion--what it was 1500 years ago, viz., Christianity as understood by the ancient world. The changes which dogma has experienced in the course of its development in western Catholicism are certainly deep and radical: they have, in point of fact, as has been indicated in the text above, modified the position of the Church towards Christianity as dogma. But as the Catholic Church herself maintains that she adheres to Christianity in the old dogmatic sense, this claim of hers cannot be contested. She has embraced new things and changed her relations to the old, but still preserved the old. But she has further developed new dogmas according to the scheme of the old. The decrees of Trent and of the Vatican are formally analogous to the old dogmas. Here, then, a history of dogma may really be carried forward to the present day without thereby shewing that the definition of dogma given above is too narrow to embrace the new doctrines. Finally, as to Protestantism, it has been briefly explained above why the changes in Protestant systems of doctrine are not to be taken up into the history of dogma. Strictly speaking, dogma, as dogma, has had no development in Protestantism, inasmuch as a secret note of interrogation has been here associated with it from the very beginning. But the old dogma has continued to be a power in it, because of its tendency to look back and to seek for authorities in the past, and partly in the original unmodified form. The dogmas of the fourth and fifth centuries have more influence to-day in wide circles of Protestant Churches than all the doctrines which are concentrated around justification by faith. Deviations from the latter are borne comparatively easy, while as a rule, deviations from the former are followed by notice to quit the Christian communion, that is, by excommunication. The historian of to-day would have no difficulty in answering the question whether the power of Protestantism as a Church lies at present in the elements which it has in common with the old dogmatic Christianity, or in that by which it is distinguished from it. Dogma, that is to say, that type of Christianity which was formed in ecclesiastical antiquity, has not been suppressed even in Protestant Churches, has really not been modified or replaced by a new conception of the Gospel. But, on the other hand, who could deny that the Reformation began to disclose such a conception, and that this new conception was related in a very different way to the traditional dogma from that of the new propositions of Augustine to the dogmas handed down to him? Who could further call in question that, in consequence of the reforming impulse in Protestantism, the way was opened up for a conception which does not identify Gospel and dogma, which does not disfigure the latter by changing or paring down its meaning while failing to come up to the former? But the historian who has to describe the formation and changes of dogma can take no part in these developments. It is a task by itself more rich and comprehensive than that of the historian of dogma, to portray the diverse conceptions that have been formed of the Christian religion, to portray how strong men and weak men, great and little minds have explained the Gospel outside and inside the frame-work of dogma, and how under the cloak, or in the province of dogma, the Gospel has had its own peculiar history. But the more limited theme must not be put aside. For it can in no way be conducive to historical knowledge to regard as indifferent the peculiar character of the expression of Christian faith as dogma, and allow the history of dogma to be absorbed in a general history of the various conceptions of Christianity. Such a "liberal" view would not agree either with the teaching of history or with the actual situation of the Protestant Churches of the present day: for it is, above all, of crucial importance to perceive that it is a peculiar stage in the development of the human spirit which is described by dogma. On this stage, parallel with dogma and inwardly united with it, stands a definite psychology, metaphysic and natural philosophy, as well as a view of history of a definite type. This is the conception of the world obtained by antiquity after almost a thousand years' labour, and it is the same connection of theoretic perceptions and practical ideals which it accomplished. This stage on which the Christian religion has also entered we have in no way as yet transcended, though science has raised itself above it.[11] But the Christian religion, as it was not born of the culture of the ancient world, is not for ever chained to it. The form and the new contents which the Gospel received when it entered into that world have only the same guarantee of endurance as that world itself. And that endurance is limited. We must indeed be on our guard against taking episodes for decisive crises. But every episode carries us forward, and retrogressions are unable to undo that progress. The Gospel since the Reformation, in spite of retrograde movements which have not been wanting, is working itself out of the forms which it was once compelled to assume, and a true comprehension of its history will also contribute to hasten this process. 1. The definition given above, p. 17: "Dogma in its conception and development is a work of the Greek spirit on the soil of the Gospel," has frequently been distorted by my critics, as they have suppressed the words "on the soil of the Gospel." But these words are decisive. The foolishness of identifying dogma and Greek philosophy never entered my mind; on the contrary, the peculiarity of ecclesiastical dogma seemed to me to lie in the very fact that, on the one hand, it gave expression to Christian Monotheism and the central significance of the person of Christ, and, on the other hand, comprehended this religious faith and the historical knowledge connected with it in a philosophic system. I have given quite as little ground for the accusation that I look upon the whole development of the history of dogma as a pathological process within the history of the Gospel. I do not even look upon the history of the origin of the Papacy as such a process, not to speak of the history of dogma. But the perception that "everything must happen as it has happened" does not absolve the historian from the task of ascertaining the powers which have formed the history, and distinguishing between original and later, permanent and transitory, nor from the duty of stating his own opinion. 2. Sabatier has published a thoughtful treatise on "Christian Dogma: its Nature and its Development." I agree with the author in this, that in dogma--rightly understood--two elements are to be distinguished, the religious proceeding from the experience of the individual or from the religious spirit of the Church, and the intellectual or theoretic. But I regard as false the statement which he makes, that the intellectual element in dogma is only the symbolical expression of religious experience. The intellectual element is itself again to be differentiated. On the one hand, it certainly is the attempt to give expression to religious feeling, and so far is symbolical; but, on the other hand, within the Christian religion it belongs to the essence of the thing itself, inasmuch as this not only awakens feeling, but has a quite definite content which determines and should determine the feeling. In this sense Christianity without dogma, that is, without a clear expression of its content, is inconceivable. But that does not justify the unchangeable permanent significance of that dogma which has once been formed under definite historical conditions. 3. The word "dogmas" (Christian dogmas) is, if I see correctly, used among us in three different senses, and hence spring all manner of misconceptions and errors. By dogmas are denoted: (1) The historical doctrines of the Church. (2) The historical facts on which the Christian religion is reputedly or actually founded. (3) Every definite exposition of the contents of Christianity is described as dogmatic. In contrast with this the attempt has been made in the following presentation to use dogma only in the sense first stated. When I speak, therefore, of the decomposition of dogma, I mean by that, neither the historical facts which really establish the Christian religion, nor do I call in question the necessity for the Christian and the Church to have a creed. My criticism refers not to the general genus dogma, but to the species, viz., the defined dogma, as it was formed on the soil of the ancient world, and is still a power, though under modifications. 2. _History of the History of Dogma._ The history of dogma as a historical and critical discipline had its origin in the last century through the works of Mosheim, C. W. F. Walch, Ernesti, Lessing and Semler. Lange gave to the world in 1796 the first attempt at a history of dogma as a special branch of theological study. The theologians of the Early and Mediæval Churches have only transmitted histories of Heretics and of Literature, regarding dogma as unchangeable.[12] This presupposition is so much a part of the nature of Catholicism that it has been maintained till the present day. It is therefore impossible for a Catholic to make a free, impartial and scientific investigation of the history of dogma.[13] There have, indeed, at almost all times before the Reformation, been critical efforts in the domain of Christianity, especially of western Christianity, efforts which in some cases have led to the proof of the novelty and inadmissibility of particular dogmas. But, as a rule, these efforts were of the nature of a polemic against the dominant Church. They scarcely prepared the way for, far less produced a historical view of, dogmatic tradition.[14] The progress of the sciences[15] and the conflict with Protestantism could here, for the Catholic Church, have no other effect than that of leading to the collecting, with great learning, of material for the history of dogma, the establishing of the _consensus patrum et doctorum_, the exhibition of the necessity of a continuous explication of dogma, and the description of the history of heresies pressing in from without, regarded now as unheard-of novelties, and again as old enemies in new masks. The modern Jesuit-Catholic historian indeed exhibits, in certain circumstances, a manifest indifference to the task of establishing the _semper idem_ in the faith of the Church, but this indifference is at present regarded with disfavour, and, besides, is only an apparent one, as the continuous though inscrutable guidance of the Church by the infallible teaching of the Pope is the more emphatically maintained.[16] It may be maintained that the Reformation opened the way for a critical treatment of the history of dogma.[17] But even in Protestant Churches, at first, historical investigations remained under the ban of the confessional system of doctrine and were used only for polemics.[18] Church history itself up to the 18th century was not regarded as a theological discipline in the strict sense of the word, and the history of dogma existed only within the sphere of dogmatics as a collection of testimonies to the truth, _theologia patristica_. It was only after the material had been prepared in the course of the 16th and 17th centuries by scholars of the various Church parties, and, above all, by excellent editions of the Fathers,[19] and after Pietism had exhibited the difference between Christianity and Ecclesiasticism, and had begun to treat the traditional confessional structure of doctrine with indifference,[20] that a critical investigation was entered on. The man who was the Erasmus of the 18th century, neither orthodox nor pietistic, nor rationalistic, but capable of appreciating all these tendencies, familiar with English, French and Italian literature, influenced by the spirit of the new English Science,[21] while avoiding all statements of it that would endanger positive Christianity. John Lorenz Mosheim, treated Church history in the spirit of his great teacher Leibnitz,[22] and by impartial analysis, living reproduction, and methodical artistic form raised it for the first time to the rank of a science. In his monographic works also, he endeavours to examine impartially the history of dogma, and to acquire the historic stand-point between the estimate of the orthodox dogmatists and that of Gottfried Arnold Mosheim, averse to all fault-finding and polemic, and abhorring theological crudity as much as pietistic narrowness and undevout Illuminism, aimed at an actual correct knowledge of history, in accordance with the principle of Leibnitz, that the valuable elements which are everywhere to be found in history must be sought out and recognised. And the richness and many-sidedness of his mind qualified him for gaining such a knowledge. But his latitudinarian dogmatic stand-point as well as the anxiety to awaken no controversy or endanger the gradual naturalising of a new science and culture, caused him to put aside the most important problems of the history of dogma and devote his attention to political Church history as well as to the more indifferent historical questions. The opposition of two periods which he endeavoured peacefully to reconcile could not in this way be permanently set aside.[23] In Mosheim's sense, but without the spirit of that great man, C.W.F. Walch taught on the subject and described the religious controversies of the Church with an effort to be impartial, and has thus made generally accessible the abundant material collected by the diligence of earlier scholars.[24] Walch, moreover, in the "Gedanken von der Geschichte der Glaubenslehre," 1756, gave the impulse that was needed to fix attention on the history of dogma as a special discipline. The stand-point which he took up was still that of subjection to ecclesiastical dogma, but without confessional narrowness. Ernesti in his programme of the year 1759. "De theologiae historicae et dogmaticae conjungendae necessitate," gave eloquent expression to the idea that Dogmatic is a positive science which has to take its material from history, but that history itself requires a devoted and candid study, on account of our being separated from the earlier epochs by a complicated tradition.[25] He has also shewn in his celebrated "Antimuratorius" that an impartial and critical investigation of the problems of the history of dogma, might render the most effectual service to the polemic against the errors of Romanism. Besides, the greater part of the dogmas were already unintelligible to Ernesti, and yet during his lifetime the way was opened up for that tendency in theology, which prepared in Germany by Chr. Thomasius, supported by English writers, drew the sure principles of faith and life from what is called reason, and therefore was not only indifferent to the system of dogma, but felt it more and more to be the tradition of unreason and of darkness. Of the three requisites of a historian, knowledge of his subject, candid criticism, and a capacity for finding himself at home in foreign interests and ideas, the Rationalistic Theologians who had outgrown Pietism and passed through the school of the English Deists and of Wolf, no longer possessed the first, a knowledge of the subject, to the same extent as some scholars of the earlier generation. The second, free criticism, they possessed in the high degree guaranteed by the conviction of having a rational religion; the third, the power of comprehension, only in a very limited measure. They had lost the idea of positive religion, and with it a living and just conception of the history of religion. In the history of thought there is always need for an apparently disproportionate expenditure of power, in order to produce an advance in the development. And it would appear as if a certain self-satisfied narrow-mindedness within the progressing ideas of the present, as well as a great measure of inability even to understand the past and recognise its own dependence on it, must make its appearance, in order that a whole generation may be freed from the burden of the past. It needed the absolute certainty which Rationalism had found in the religious philosophy of the age, to give sufficient courage to subject to historical criticism the central dogmas on which the Protestant system as well as the Catholic finally rests, the dogmas of the canon and inspiration on the one hand, and of the Trinity and Christology on the other. The work of Lessing in this respect had no great results. We to-day see in his theological writings the most important contribution to the understanding of the earliest history of dogma, which that period supplies; but we also understand why its results were then so trifling. This was due, not only to the fact that Lessing was no theologian by profession, or that his historical observations were couched in aphorisms, but because like Leibnitz and Mosheim, he had a capacity for appreciating the history of religion which forbade him to do violence to that history or to sit in judgment on it, and because his philosophy in its bearings on the case allowed him to seek no more from his materials than an assured understanding of them, in a word again, because he was no theologian. The Rationalists, on the other hand, who within certain limits were no less his opponents than the orthodox, derived the strength of their opposition to the systems of dogma, as the Apologists of the second century had already done with regard to polytheism, from their religious belief and their inability to estimate these systems historically. That, however, is only the first impression which one gets here from the history, and it is everywhere modified by other impressions. In the first place, there is no mistaking a certain latitudinarianism in several prominent theologians of the rationalistic tendency. Moreover, the attitude to the canon was still frequently, in virtue of the Protestant principle of scripture, an uncertain one, and it was here chiefly that the different types of rational supernaturalism were developed. Then, with all subjection to the dogmas of Natural religion, the desire for a real true knowledge was unfettered and powerfully excited. Finally, very significant attempts were made by some rationalistic theologians to explain in a real historical way the phenomena of the history of dogma, and to put an authentic and historical view of that history in the place of barren pragmatic or philosophic categories. The special zeal with which the older rationalism applied itself to the investigation of the canon, either putting aside the history of dogma, or treating it merely in the frame-work of Church history, has only been of advantage for the treatment of our subject. It first began to be treated with thoroughness when the historical and critical interests had become more powerful than the rationalistic. After the important labours of Semler which here, above all, have wrought in the interests of freedom,[26] and after some monographs on the history of dogma,[27] S.G. Lange for the first time treated the history of dogma as a special subject.[28] Unfortunately, his comprehensively planned and carefully written work, which shews a real understanding of the early history of dogma, remains incomplete. Consequently, W. Münscher, in his learned manual, which was soon followed by his compendium of the history of dogma, was the first to produce a complete presentation of our subject.[29] Münscher's compendium is a counterpart to Giesler's Church history; it shares with that the merit of drawing from the sources, intelligent criticism and impartiality, but with a thorough knowledge of details it fails to impart a real conception of the development of ecclesiastical dogma. The division of the material into particular _loci_, which, in three sections, is carried through the whole history of the Church, makes insight into the whole Christian conception of the different epochs impossible, and the prefixed "General History of Dogma," is far too sketchily treated to make up for that defect. Finally, the connection between the development of dogma and the general ideas of the time is not sufficiently attended to. A series of manuals followed the work of Münscher, but did not materially advance the study.[30] The compendium of Baumgarten Crusius,[31] and that of F.K. Meier,[32] stand out prominently among them. The work of the former is distinguished by its independent learning as well as by the discernment of the author that the centre of gravity of the subject lies in the so-called general history of dogma.[33] The work of Meier goes still further, and accurately perceives that the division into a general and special history of dogma must be altogether given up, while it is also characterised by an accurate setting and proportional arrangement of the facts.[34] The great spiritual revolution at the beginning of our century, which must in every respect be regarded as a reaction against the efforts of the rationalistic epoch, changed also the conceptions of the Christian religion and its history. It appears therefore plainly in the treatment of the history of dogma. The advancement and deepening of Christian life, the zealous study of the past, the new philosophy which no longer thrust history aside, but endeavoured to appreciate it in all its phenomena as the history of the spirit, all these factors co-operated in begetting a new temper, and accordingly, a new estimate of religion proper and of its history. There were three tendencies in theology that broke up rationalism; that which was identified with the names of Schleiermacher and Neander, that of the Hegelians, and that of the Confessionalists. The first two were soon divided into a right and a left, in so far as they included conservative and critical interests from their very commencement. The conservative elements have been used for building up the modern confessionalism, which in its endeavours to go back to the Reformers has never actually got beyond the theology of the Formula of Concord, the stringency of which it has no doubt abolished by new theologoumena and concessions of all kinds. All these tendencies have in common the effort to gain a real comprehension of history and be taught by it, that is, to allow the idea of development to obtain its proper place, and to comprehend the power and sphere of the individual. In this and in the deeper conception of the nature and significance of positive religion, lay the advance beyond Rationalism. And yet the wish to understand history, has in great measure checked the effort to obtain a true knowledge of it, and the respect for history as the greatest of teachers, has not resulted in that supreme regard for facts which distinguished the critical rationalism. The speculative pragmatism, which, in the Hegelian School, was put against the "lower pragmatism," and was rigorously carried out with the view of exhibiting the unity of history, not only neutralised the historical material, in so far as its concrete definiteness was opposed, as phenomenon, to the essence of the matter, but also curtailed it in a suspicious way, as may be seen, for example, in the works of Baur. Moreover, the universal historical suggestions which the older history of dogma had given were not at all, or only very little regarded. The history of dogma was, as it were, shut out by the watchword of the immanent development of the spirit in Christianity. The disciples of Hegel, both of the right and of the left, were, and still are, agreed in this watch-word,[35] the working out of which, including an apology for the course of the history of dogma, must be for the advancement of conservative theology. But at the basis of the statement that the history of Christianity is the history of the spirit, there lay further a very one-sided conception of the nature of religion, which confirmed the false idea that religion is theology. It will always, however, be the imperishable merit of Hegel's great disciple, F. Chr. Baur, in theology, that he was the first who attempted to give a uniform general idea of the history of dogma, and to live through the whole process in himself, without renouncing the critical acquisitions of the 18th century.[36] His brilliantly written manual of the history of dogma, in which the history of this branch of theological science is relatively treated with the utmost detail, is, however, in material very meagre, and shews in the very first proposition of the historical presentation an abstract view of history.[37] Neander, whose "Christliche Dogmengeschichte," 1857, is distinguished by the variety of its points of view, and keen apprehension of particular forms of doctrine, shews a far more lively and therefore a far more just conception of the Christian religion. But the general plan of the work, (General history of dogma--_loci_, and these according to the established scheme), proves that Neander has not succeeded in giving real expression to the historical character of the study, and in attaining a clear insight into the progress of the development.[38] Kliefoth's thoughtful and instructive, "Einleitung in die Dogmengeschichte," 1839, contains the programme for the conception of the history of dogma characteristic of the modern confessional theology. In this work the Hegelian view of history, not without being influenced by Schleiermacher, is so represented as to legitimise a return to the theology of the Fathers. In the successive great epochs of the Church several circles of dogmas have been successively fixed, so that the respective doctrines have each time been adequately formulated.[39] Disturbances of the development are due to the influence of sin. Apart from this, Kliefoth's conception is in point of form equal to that of Baur and Strauss, in so far as they also have considered the theology represented by themselves as the goal of the whole historical development. The only distinction is that, according to them, the next following stage always cancels the preceding, while according to Kliefoth, who, moreover, has no desire to give effect to mere traditionalism, the new knowledge is added to the old. The new edifice of true historical knowledge, according to Kliefoth, is raised on the ruins of Traditionalism, Scholasticism, Pietism, Rationalism and Mysticism. Thomasius (Das Bekenntniss der evang-luth. Kirche in der Consequenz seines Princips, 1848) has, after the example of Sartorius, attempted to justify by history the Lutheran confessional system of doctrine from another side, by representing it as the true mean between Catholicism and the Reformed Spiritualism. This conception has found much approbation in the circles of Theologians related to Thomasius, as against the Union Theology. But Thomasius is entitled to the merit of having produced a Manual of the history of dogma which represents in the most worthy manner,[40] the Lutheran confessional view of the history of dogma. The introduction, as well as the selection and arrangement of his material, shews that Thomasius has learned much from Baur. The way in which he distinguishes between central and peripheral dogmas is, accordingly, not very appropriate, especially for the earliest period. The question as to the origin of dogma and theology is scarcely even touched by him. But he has an impression that the central dogmas contain for every period the whole of Christianity, and that they must therefore be apprehended in this sense.[41] The presentation is dominated throughout by the idea of the self-explication of dogma, though a malformation has to be admitted for the middle ages;[42] and therefore the formation of dogma is almost everywhere justified as the testimony of the Church represented as completely hypostatised, and the outlook on the history of the time is put into the background. But narrow and insufficient as the complete view here is, the excellences of the work in details are great, in respect of exemplary clearness of presentation, and the discriminating knowledge and keen comprehension of the author for religious problems. The most important work done by Thomasius is contained in his account of the history of Christology. In his outlines of the history of Christian dogma (Grundriss der Christl. Dogmengesch. 1870), which unfortunately has not been carried beyond the first part (Patristic period), F. Nitzsch, marks an advance in the history of our subject. The advance lies, on the one hand, in the extensive use he makes of monographs on the history of dogma, and on the other hand, in the arrangement. Nitzsch has advanced a long way on the path that was first entered by F.K. Meier, and has arranged his material in a way that far excels all earlier attempts. The general and special aspects of the history of dogma are here almost completely worked into one,[43] and in the main divisions, "Grounding of the old Catholic Church doctrine," and "Development of the old Catholic Church doctrine," justice is at last done to the most important problem which the history of dogma presents, though in my opinion the division is not made at the right place, and the problem is not so clearly kept in view in the execution as the arrangement would lead one to expect.[44] Nitzsch has freed himself from that speculative view of the history of dogma which reads ideas into it. No doubt idea and motive on the one hand, form and expression on the other, must be distinguished for every period. But the historian falls into vagueness as soon as he seeks and professes to find behind the demonstrable ideas and aims which have moved a period, others of which, as a matter of fact, that period itself knew nothing at all. Besides, the invariable result of that procedure is to concentrate the attention on the theological and philosophical points of dogma, and either neglect or put a new construction on the most concrete and important, the expression of the religious faith itself. Rationalism has been reproached with "throwing out the child with the bath," but this is really worse, for here the child is thrown out while the bath is retained. Every advance in the future treatment of our subject will further depend on the effort to comprehend the history of dogma without reference to the momentary opinions of the present, and also on keeping it in closest connection with the history of the Church, from which it can never be separated without damage. We have something to learn on this point from rationalistic historians of dogma.[45] But progress is finally dependent on a true perception of what the Christian religion originally was, for this perception alone enables us to distinguish that which sprang out of the inherent power of Christianity from that which it has assimilated in the course of its history. For the historian, however, who does not wish to serve a party, there are two standards in accordance with which he may criticise the history of dogma. He may either, as far as this is possible, compare it with the Gospel, or he may judge it according to the historical conditions of the time and the result. Both ways can exist side by side, if only they are not mixed up with one another. Protestantism has in principle expressly recognised the first, and it will also have the power to bear its conclusions; for the saying of Tertullian still holds good in it; "Nihil veritas erubescit nisi solummodo abscondi." The historian who follows this maxim, and at the same time has no desire to be wiser than the facts, will, while furthering science, perform the best service also to every Christian community that desires to build itself upon the Gospel. After the appearance of the first and second editions of this Work, Loofs published, "Leitfaden für seine Vorlesungen über Dogmengeschichte," Halle, 1889, and in the following year, "Leitfaden zum Studium der Dogmengeschichte, zunächst für seine Vorlesungen," (second and enlarged edition of the first-named book). The work in its conception of dogma and its history comes pretty near that stated above, and it is distinguished by independent investigation and excellent selection of material. I myself have published a "Grundriss der Dogmengeschichte," 2 Edit, in one vol. 1893. (Outlines of the history of dogma, English translation, Hodder and Stoughton). That this has not been written in vain, I have the pleasure of seeing from not a few notices of professional colleagues. I may mention the Church history of Herzog in the new revision by Koffmane, the first vol. of the Church history of Karl Müller, the first vol. of the Symbolik of Kattenbusch, and Kaftan's work, "The truth of the Christian religion." Wilhelm Schmidt, "Der alte Glaube und die Wahrheit des Christenthums," 1891, has attempted to furnish a refutation in principle of Kaftan's work. [Footnote 1: Weizsäcker, Gött. Gel. Anz. 1886, p. 823 f., says, "It is a question whether we should limit the account of the genesis of Dogma to the Antenicene period and designate all else as a development of that. This is undoubtedly correct so long as our view is limited to the history of dogma of the Greek Church in the second period, and the development of it by the Oecumenical Synods. On the other hand, the Latin Church, in its own way and in its own province, becomes productive from the days of Augustine onwards; the formal signification of dogma in the narrower sense becomes different in the middle ages. Both are repeated in a much greater measure through the Reformation. We may therefore, in opposition to that division into genesis and development, regard the whole as a continuous process, in which the contents as well as the formal authority of dogma are in process of continuous development." This view is certainly just, and I think is indicated by myself in what follows. We have to decide here, as so often elsewhere in our account, between rival points of view. The view favoured by me has the advantage of making the nature of dogma clearly appear as a product of the mode of thought of the early church, and that is what it has remained, in spite of all changes both in form and substance, till the present day.] [Footnote 2: See Kattenbusch. Luther's Stellung zu den ökumenischen Symbolen, 1883.] [Footnote 3: See Ritschl, Geschichte des Pietismus. I. p. 80 ff., 93 ff. II. p. 60 f.: 88 f. "The Lutheran view of life did not remain pure and undefiled, but was limited and obscured by the preponderance of dogmatic interests. Protestantism was not delivered from the womb of the western Church of the middle ages in full power and equipment, like Athene from the head of Jupiter. The incompleteness of its ethical view, the splitting up of its general conceptions into a series of particular dogmas, the tendency to express its beliefs as a hard and fast whole; are defects which soon made Protestantism appear to disadvantage in comparison with the wealth of Mediæval theology and asceticism ... The scholastic form of pure doctrine is really only the provisional, and not the final form of Protestantism."] [Footnote 4: It is very evident how the mediæval and old catholic dogmas were transformed in the view which Luther originally took of them. In this view we must remember that he did away with all the presuppositions of dogma, the infallible Apostolic Canon of Scripture, the infallible teaching function of the Church, and the infallible Apostolic doctrine and constitution. On this basis dogmas can only be utterances which do not support faith, but are supported by it. But, on the other hand, his opposition to all the Apocryphal saints which the Church had created, compelled him to emphasise faith alone, and to give it a firm basis in scripture, in order to free it from the burden of tradition. Here then, very soon, first by Melanchthon, a summary of _articuli fidei_ was substituted for the faith, and the scriptures recovered their place as a rule. Luther himself, however, is responsible for both, and so it came about that very soon the new evangelic standpoint was explained almost exclusively by the "abolition of abuses", and by no means so surely by the transformation of the whole doctrinal tradition. The classic authority for this is the Augsburg confession ("hæc fere summa est doctrina apud suos, in qua cerni potest nihil inesse, quod discrepet a scripturis vel ab ecclesia Catholica vel ab ecclesia Romana ... sed dissensio est de quibusdam abusibus"). The purified catholic doctrine has since then become the palladium of the Reformation Churches. The refuters of the Augustana have justly been unwilling to admit the mere "purifying," but have noted in addition that the Augustana does not say everything that was urged by Luther and the Doctors (see Ficker, Die Konfutation des Augsburgischen Bekenntnisse, 1891). At the same time, however, the Lutheran Church, though not so strongly as the English, retained the consciousness of being the true Catholics. But, as the history of Protestantism proves, the original impulse has not remained inoperative. Though Luther himself all his life measured his personal Christian standing by an entirely different standard than subjection to a law of faith; yet, however presumptuous the words may sound, we might say that in the complicated struggle that was forced on him, he did not always clearly understand his own faith.] [Footnote 5: In the modern Romish Church, Dogma is, above all, a judicial regulation which one has to submit to, and in certain circumstances submission alone is sufficient, _fides implicita_. Dogma is thereby just as much deprived of its original sense and its original authority as by the demand of the Reformers, that every thing should be based upon a clear understanding of the Gospel. Moreover, the changed position of the Romish Church towards dogma is also shewn by the fact that it no longer gives a plain answer to the question as to what dogma is. Instead of a series of dogmas definitely defined, and of equal value, there is presented an infinite multitude of whole and half dogmas, doctrinal directions, pious opinions, probable theological propositions, etc. It is often a very difficult question whether a solemn decision has or has not already been taken on this or that statement, or whether such a decision is still necessary. Everything that must be believed is nowhere stated, and so one sometimes hears in Catholic circles the exemplary piety of a cleric praised with the words that "he believes more than is necessary." The great dogmatic conflicts within the Catholic Church, since the Council of Trent, have been silenced by arbitrary Papal pronouncements and doctrinal directions. Since one has simply to accommodate oneself to these as laws, it once more appears clear that dogma has become a judicial regulation, administered by the Pope, which is carried out in an administrative way and loses itself in an endless casuistry. We do not mean by this to deny that dogma has a decided value for the pious Catholic as a Summary of the faith. But in the Catholic Church it is no longer piety, but obedience that is decisive. The solidarity with the orthodox Protestants may be explained by political reasons, in order from political reasons again, to condemn, where it is necessary, all Protestants as heretics and revolutionaries.] [Footnote 6: See the discussions of Biedermann (Christliche Dogmatik. 2 Ed. p. 150 f.) about what he calls the law of stability in the history of religion.] [Footnote 7: See Ritschl's discussion of the methods of the early histories of dogma in the Jahrb. f. Deutsche Theologie. 1871, p. 181 ff.] [Footnote 8: In Catholicism, the impulse which proceeded from Augustine has finally proved powerless to break the traditional conception of Christianity, as the Council of Trent and the decrees of the Vatican have shewn. For that very reason the development of the Roman Catholic Church doctrine belongs to the history of dogma. Protestantism must, however, under all circumstances be recognised as a new thing, which indeed in none of its phases has been free from contradictions.] [Footnote 9: Here then begins the ecclesiastical theology which takes as its starting-point the finished dogma it strives to prove or harmonise, but very soon, as experience has shewn, loses its firm footing in such efforts and so occasions new crises.] [Footnote 10: Weizsäcker, Apostolic Age, Vol. I. p. 123. "Christianity as religion is absolutely inconceivable without theology; first of all, for the same reasons which called forth the Pauline theology. As a religion it cannot be separated from the religion of its founder, hence not from historical knowledge. And as Monotheism and belief in a world purpose, it is the religion of reason with the inextinguishable impulse of thought. The first gentile Christians therewith gained the proud consciousness of a gnosis." But of ecclesiastical Christianity which rests on dogma ready made, as produced by an earlier epoch, this conception holds good only in a very qualified way; and of the vigorous Christian piety of the earliest and of every period, it may also be said that it no less feels the impulse to think against reason than with reason.] [Footnote 11: In this sense it is correct to class dogmatic theology as historical theology, as Schleiermacher has done. If we maintain that for practical reasons it must be taken out of the province of historical theology, then we must make it part of practical theology. By dogmatic theology here, we understand the exposition of Christianity in the form of Church doctrine, as it has been shaped since the second century. As distinguished from it, a branch of theological study must be conceived which harmonises the historical exposition of the Gospel with the general state of knowledge of the time. The Church can as little dispense with such a discipline as there can be a Christianity which does not account to itself for its basis and spiritual contents.] [Footnote 12: See Eusebius' preface to his Church History. Eusebius in this work set himself a comprehensive task, but in doing so he never in the remotest sense thought of a history of dogma. In place of that we have a history of men "who from generation to generation proclaimed the word of God orally or by writing," and a history of those who by their passion for novelties, plunged themselves into the greatest errors.] [Footnote 13: See for example, B. Schwane, Dogmengesch. d. Vornicänischen Zeit, 1862, where the sense in which dogmas have no historical side is first expounded, and then it is shewn that dogmas, "notwithstanding, present a certain side which permits a historical consideration, because in point of fact they have gone through historical developments." But these historical developments present themselves simply either as solemn promulgations and explications, or as private theological speculations.] [Footnote 14: If we leave out of account the Marcionite gnostic criticism of ecclesiastical Christianity, Paul of Samosata and Marcellus of Ancyra may be mentioned as men who, in the earliest period, criticised the apologetic Alexandrian theology which was being naturalised (see the remarkable statement of Marcellus in Euseb. C. Marc. I.4: [Greek: to tou dogmatos onoma tês anthrôpinês echetai boulês te kai gnômês k.t.l.] which I have chosen as the motto of this book). We know too little of Stephen Gobarus (VI. cent.) to enable us to estimate his review of the doctrine of the Church and its development (Photius Bibl. 232). With regard to the middle ages (Abelard "Sic et Non"), see Reuter, Gesch. der relig. Aufklärung im MA., 1875. Hahn Gesch, der Ketzer, especially in the 11th, 12th and 13th centuries, 3 vols., 1845. Keller, Die Reformation und die alteren Reform-Parteien, 1885.] [Footnote 15: See Voigt, Die Wiederbelebung des classischen Alterthums. 2 vols., 1881, especially vol. II p. 1 ff. 363 ff. 494 ff. ("Humanism and the science of history"). The direct importance of humanism for illuminating the history of the middle ages is very little, and least of all for the history of the Church and of dogma. The only prominent works here are those of Saurentius Valla and Erasmus. The criticism of the scholastic dogmas of the Church and the Pope began as early as the 12th century. For the attitude of the Renaissance to religion, see Burckhardt, Die Cultur der Renaissance. 2 vols., 1877.] [Footnote 16: See Holtzmann, Kanon und Tradition, 1859, Hase, Handbuch der protest. Polemik, 1878. Joh Delitszch, Das Lehrsystem der röm. Kirche, 1875. New revelations, however, are rejected, and bold assumptions leading that way are not favoured: See Schwane, above work p. 11: "The content of revelation is not enlarged by the decisions or teaching of the Church, nor are new revelations added in course of time ... Christian truth cannot therefore in its content be completed by the Church, nor has she ever claimed the right of doing so, but always where new designations or forms of dogma became necessary for the putting down of error or the instruction of the faithful, she would always teach what she had received in Holy scripture or in the oral tradition of the Apostles." Recent Catholic accounts of the history of dogma are Klee, Lehrbuch der D.G. 2 vols, 1837, (Speculative). Schwane, Dogmengesch. der Vornicänischen Zeit, 1862, der patrist Zeit, 1869; der Mittleren Zeit, 1882. Bach, Die D.G. des MA. 1873. There is a wealth of material for the history of dogma in Kuhn's Dogmatîk, as well as in the great controversial writings occasioned by the celebrated work of Bellarmin; Disputationes de controversiis Christianæ fidei adversus hujus temporis hæreticos, 1581-1593. It need not be said that, in spite of their inability to treat the history of dogma historically and critically, much may be learned from these works, and some other striking monographs of Roman Catholic scholars. But everything in history that is fitted to shake the high antiquity and unanimous attestation of the Catholic dogmas, becomes here a problem, the solution of which is demanded, though indeed its carrying out often requires a very exceptional intellectual subtlety.] [Footnote 17: Historical interest in Protestantism has grown up around the questions as to the power of the Pope, the significance of Councils, or the Scripturalness of the doctrines set up by them, and about the meaning of the Lord's supper, of the conception of it by the Church Fathers; (see Oecolampadius and Melanchthon.) Protestants were too sure that the doctrine of justification was taught in the scriptures to feel any need of seeking proofs for it by studies in the history of dogma, and Luther also dispensed with the testimony of history for the dogma of the Lord's supper. The task of shewing how far and in what way Luther and the Reformers compounded with history has not even yet been taken up. And yet there may be found in Luther's writings surprising and excellent critical comments on the history of dogma and the theology of the Fathers, as well as genial conceptions which have certainly remained inoperative; see especially the treatise "Von den Conciliis und Kirchen," and his judgment on different Church Fathers. In the first edition of the _Loci_ of Melanchthon we have also critical material for estimating the old systems of dogma. Calvin's depreciatory estimate of the Trinitarian and Christological Formula, which, however, he retracted at a later period is well known.] [Footnote 18: Protestant Church history was brought into being by the Interim, Flacius being its father, see his Catalogus Testium Veritatis, and the so called Magdeburg Centuries 1559-1574, also Jundt Les Centuries de Magdebourg Paris, 1883 Von Engelhardt (Christenthum Justins, p. 9 ff.) has drawn attention to the estimate of Justin in the Centuries, and has justly insisted on the high importance of this first attempt at a criticism of the Church Fathers Khefoth (Eml. in. d. D.G. 1839) has the merit of pointing out the somewhat striking judgment of A. Hyperius on the history of dogma Chemnitz, Examen concilii Tridentini, 1565 Forbesius a Corse (a Scotsman) Instructiones historico-theologiæ de doctrina Christiana 1645.] [Footnote 19: The learning, the diligence in collecting, and the carefulness of the Benedictines and Maurians, as well as of English Dutch and French theologians, such as Casaubon, Vossius, Pearson, Dallaus Spanheim, Grabe, Basnage, etc. have never since been equalled, far less surpassed. Even in the literary historical and higher criticism these scholars have done splendid work, so far as the confessional dogmas did not come into question] [Footnote 20: See especially, G. Arnold, Unpartheyische Kirchen- und Ketzerhistorie, 1699, also Baur, Epochen der kirchlichen Geschichtsschreibung p. 84 ff., Floring G. Arnold als Kirchenhistoriker Darmstadt, 1883. The latter determines correctly the measure of Arnold's importance. His work was the direct preparation for an impartial examination of the history of dogma however partial it was in itself Pietism, here and there, after Spener, declared war against scholastic dogmatics as a hindrance to piety, and in doing so broke the ban under which the knowledge of history lay captive.] [Footnote 21: The investigations of the so-called English Deists about the Christian religion contain the first, and to some extent a very significant free-spirited attempt at a critical view of the history of dogma (see Lechler, History of English Deism, 1841). But the criticism is an abstract rarely a historical one. Some very learned works bearing on the history of dogma were written in England against the position of the Deists especially by Lardner; see also at an earlier time Bull, Defensio fidei nic.] [Footnote 22: Calixtus of Helmstadt was the forerunner of Leibnitz with regard to Church history. But the merit of having recognised the main problem of the history of dogma does not belong to Calixtus. By pointing out what Protestantism and Catholicism had in common he did not in any way clear up the historico-critical problem. On the other hand, the _Consensus repetitus_ of the Wittenberg theologians shews what fundamental questions Calixtus had already stirred.] [Footnote 23: Among the numerous historical writings of Mosheim may be mentioned specially his Dissert ad hist Eccles pertinentes 2 vols. 1731-1741, as well as the work "De rebus Christianorum ante Constantinum M Commentarii," 1753; see also "Institutiones hist Eccl" last Edition, 1755.] [Footnote 24: Walch, "Entwurf einer vollständigen Historie der Ketzereien, Spaltungen und Religionsstreitigkeiten bis auf die Zeiten der Reformation." 11 Thle (incomplete), 1762-1785. See also his "Entwurf einer vollständigen Historie der Kirchenversammlungen" 1759, as well as numerous monographs on the history of dogma. Such were already produced by the older Walch, whose "Histor. theol Einleitung in die Religionsstreitigkeiten der Ev. Luth. Kirche," 5 vols. 1730-1739, and "Histor.-theol. Einleit. in die Religionsstreitigkeiten welche sonderlich ausser der Ev Luth. Kirche entstanden sind 5 Thle", 1733-1736, had already put polemics behind the knowledge of history (see Gass. "Gesch. der protest. Dogmatik," 3rd Vol. p. 205 ff).] [Footnote 25: Opusc. p. 576 f.: "Ex quo fit, ut nullo modo in theologicis, quæ omnia e libris antiquis hebraicis, grascis, latinis ducuntur, possit aliquis bene in definiendo versari et a peccatis multis et magnis sibi cavere, nisi litteras et historiam assumat." The title of a programme of Crusius, Ernesti's opponent, "De dogmatum Christianorum historia cum probatione dogmatum non confundenda," 1770, is significant of the new insight which was steadily making way.] [Footnote 26: Semler, Einleitung zu Baumgartens evang. Glaubenslehre, 1759: also Geschichte der Glaubenslehre, zu Baumgartens Untersuch. theol. Streitigkeiten, 1762-1764. Semler paved the way for the view that dogmas have arisen and been gradually developed under definite historical conditions. He was the first to grasp the problem of the relation of Catholicism to early Christianity, because he freed the early Christian documents from the fetters of the Canon. Schröckh (Christl. Kirchengesch., 1786,) in the spirit of Semler described with impartiality and care the changes of the dogmas.] [Footnote 27: Rössler, Lehrbegriff der Christlichen Kirche in den 3 ersten Jahrh. 1775; also, Arbeiten by Burscher, Heinrich, Stäudlin, etc., see especially, Löffler's "Abhandlung welche eine kurze Darstellung der Entstehungsart der Dreieinigkeit enthält," 1792, in the translation of Souverain's Le Platonisme devoilé, 1700. The question as to the Platonism of the Fathers, this fundamental question of the history of dogma, was raised even by Luther and Flacius, and was very vigorously debated at the end of the 17th and beginning of the 18th centuries, after the Socinians had already affirmed it strongly. The question once more emerges on German soil in the church history of G. Arnold, but cannot be said to have received the attention it deserves in the 150 years that have followed (see the literature of the controversy in Tzschirner, Fall des Heidenthums, p. 580 f.). Yet the problem was first thrust aside by the speculative view of the history of Christianity.] [Footnote 28: Lange. Ausführ. Gesch. der Dogmen, oder der Glaubenslehre der Christl. Kirche nach den Kirchenväter ausgearbeitet. 1796.] [Footnote 29: Münscher, Handb. d. Christl. D.G. 4 vols. first 6 Centuries 1797-1809; Lehrbuch, 1st Edit. 1811; 3rd. Edit. edited by v Cölln, Hupfeld and Neudecker, 1832-1838. Planck's epoch-making work: Gesch. der Veränderungen und der Bildung unseres protestantischen Lehrbegriffs. 6 vols. 1791-1800, had already for the most part appeared. Contemporary with Münscher are Wundemann, Gesch. d. Christl. Glaubenslehren vom Zeitalter des Athanasius bis auf Gregor. d. Gr. 2 Thle. 1789-1799; Münter, Handbuch der alteren Christl. D.G. hrsg. von Ewers, 2 vols. 1802-1804; Stäudlin, Lehrbuch der Dogmatik und Dogmengeschichte, 1800, last Edition 1822, and Beck, Comment, hist. decretorum religionis Christianæ, 1801.] [Footnote 30: Augusti, Lehrb. d. Christl. D.G. 1805. 4 Edit. 1835. Berthold, Handb. der D.G. 2 vols. 1822-1823. Schickedanz, Versuch einer Gesch. d. Christl. Glaubenslehre etc. 1827. Ruperti, Geschichte der Dogmen, 1831. Lenz, Gesch. der Christl. Dogmen. 2 parts. 1834-1835. J.G.V. Engelhardt, Dogmengesch. 1839. See also Giesler, Dogmengesch. 2 vols. edited by Redepenning, 1855: also Illgen, Ueber den Werth der Christl. D.G. 1817.] [Footnote 31: Baumgarten Crusius, Lehrb. d. Christl. D.G. 1852: also compendium d. Christl. D.G. 2 parts 1830-1846, the second part edited by Hase.] [Footnote 32: Meier, Lehrb. d. D.G. 1840. 2nd Edit. revised by G. Baur 1854.] [Footnote 33: The "Special History of Dogma" in Baumgarten Crusius, in which every particular dogma is by itself pursued through the whole history of the Church, is of course entirely unfruitful. But even the opinions which are given in the "General History of Dogma," are frequently very far from the mark, (Cf., e.g., § 14 and p. 67), which is the more surprising as no one can deny that he takes a scholarly view of history.] [Footnote 34: Meier's Lehrbuch is formally and materially a very important piece of work, the value of which has not been sufficiently recognised, because the author followed neither the track of Neander nor of Baur. Besides the excellences noted in the text, may be further mentioned, that almost everywhere Meier has distinguished correctly between the history of dogma and the history of theology, and has given an account only of the former.] [Footnote 35: Biedermann (Christl Dogmatik 2 Edit 1 vol. p. 332 f) says, "The history of the development of the Dogma of the Person of Christ will bring before us step by step the ascent of faith in the Gospel of Jesus Christ to its metaphysical basis in the nature of his person." This was the quite normal and necessary way of actual faith and is not to be reckoned as a confused mixture of heterogeneous philosophical opinions. The only thing taken from the ideas of contemporary philosophy was the special material of consciousness in which the doctrine of Christ's Divinity was at any time expressed. The process of this doctrinal development was an inward necessary one.] [Footnote 36: Baur, Lehrbuch der Christl D.G. 1847 3rd Edit. 1867, also Vorles uber die Christl D.G. edited by F. Baur 1865-68. Further the Monographs, "Ueber die Christl Lehre v.d. Versohnung in ihrergesch Entw. 1838." Ueber die Christl Lehre v.d. Dreieinigkeit u.d. Menschwerdung, 1841, etc. D.F. Strauss preceded him with his work Die Christl Glaubenslehre in ihrer gesch Entw 2 vols 1840-41. From the stand-point of the Hegelian right we have Marheineke Christl D.G. edited by Matthias and Vatke 1849. From the same stand-point though at the same time influenced by Schleiermacher Dorner wrote "The History of the Person of Christ."] [Footnote 37: See p. 63: "As Christianity appeared in contrast with Judaism and Heathenism, and could only represent a new and peculiar form of the religious consciousness in distinction from both reducing the contrasts of both to a unity in itself, so also the first difference of tendencies developing themselves within Christianity, must be determined by the relation in which it stood to Judaism on the one hand, and to Heathenism on the other." Compare also the very characteristic introduction to the first volume of the Vorlesungen.] [Footnote 38: Hagenbach's Manual of the history of dogma might be put alongside of Neander's work. It agrees with it both in plan and spirit. But the material of the history of dogma which it offers in superabundance, seems far less connectedly worked out than by Neander. In Shedd's history of Christian doctrine the Americans possess a presentation of the history of dogma worth noting 2 vols 3 Edit 1883. The work of Fr. Bonifas Hist des Dogmes 2 vols 1886 appeared after the death of the author and is not important.] [Footnote 39: No doubt Kliefoth also maintains for each period a stage of the disintegration of dogma but this is not to be understood in the ordinary sense of the word. Besides there are ideas in this introduction which hardly obtain the approval of their author to-day.] [Footnote 40: Thomasius' Die Christl. Dogmengesch. als Entwickel. Gesch. des Kirchl. Lehrbegriffs. 2 vols. 1874-76. 2nd Edit intelligently and carefully edited by Bonwetsch. and Seeberg, 1887. (Seeberg has produced almost a new work in vol. II). From the same stand-point is the manual of the history of dogma by H. Schmid, 1859, (in 4th Ed. revised and transformed into an excellent collection of passages from the sources by Hauck, 1887), as well as the Luther. Dogmatik (Vol. II 1864: Der Kirchenglaube) of Kahnis, which, however, subjects particular dogmas to a freer criticism.] [Footnote 41: See Vol. 1. p. 14.] [Footnote 42: See Vol. 1. p. 11. "The first period treats of the development of the great main dogmas which were to become the basis of the further development (the Patristic age). The problem of the second period was, partly to work up this material theologically, and partly to develop it. But this development, under the influence of the Hierarchy, fell into false paths, and became partly, at least, corrupt (the age of Scholasticism), and therefore a reformation was necessary. It was reserved for this third period to carry back the doctrinal formation which had become abnormal, to the old sound paths, and on the other hand, in virtue of the regeneration of the Church which followed, to deepen it and fashion it according to that form which it got in the doctrinal systems of the Evangelic Church, while the remaining part fixed its own doctrine in the decrees of Trent (period of the Reformation)." This view of history, which, from the Christian stand-point, will allow absolutely nothing to be said against the doctrinal formation of the early Church, is a retrogression from the view of Luther and the writers of the "Centuries," for these were well aware that the corruption did not first begin in the middle ages.] [Footnote 43: This fulfils a requirement urged by Weizsäcker (Jahrb. f. Deutsche Theol 1866 p. 170 ff.)] [Footnote 44: See Ritschl's Essay, "Ueber die Methode der älteren Dogmengeschichte" (Jahrb. f. deutsche Theol. 1871 p. 191 ff.) in which the advance made by Nitzsch is estimated, and at the same time, an arrangement proposed for the treatment of the earlier history of dogma which would group the material more clearly and more suitably than has been done by Nitzsch. After having laid the foundation for a correct historical estimate of the development of early Christianity in his work "Entstehung der Alt-Katholischen Kirche", 1857, Ritschl published an epoch-making study in the history of dogma in his "History of the doctrine of justification and reconciliation" 2 edit. 1883. We have no superabundance of good monographs on the history of dogma. There are few that give such exact information regarding the Patristic period as that of Von Engelhardt "Ueber das Christenthum Justin's", 1878, and Zahn's work on Marcellus, 1867. Among the investigators of our age, Renan above all has clearly recognised that there are only two main periods in the history of dogma, and that the changes which Christianity experienced after the establishment of the Catholic Church bear no proportion to the changes which preceded. His words are as follows (Hist. des origin. du Christianisme T. VII. p. 503 f.):--the division about the year 180 is certainly placed too early, regard being had to what was then really authoritative in the Church.--"Si nous comparons maintenant le Christianisme, tel qu'il existait vers l'an 180, au Christianisme du IVe et du Ve, siècle, au Christianisme du moyen âge, au Christianisme de nos jours, nous trouvons qu'en réalité il s'est augmenté des très peu de chose dans les siècles qui ont suivis. En 180, le Nouveau Testament est clos: il ne s'y ajoutera plus un seul livre nouveau(?). Lentement, les Épitres de Paul out conquis leur place à la suite des Evangiles, dans le code sacré et dans la liturgie. Quant aux dogmes, rien n'est fixé; mais le germe de tout existe; presque aucune idée n'apparaitra qui ne puisse faire valoir des autorités du 1er et du 2e siècles. Il y a du trop, il y a des contradictions; le travail théologique consistera bien plus à émonder, à écarter des superfluités qu'à inventer du nouveau. L'Église laissera tomber une foule de choses mal commencées, elle sortira de bien des impasses. Elle a encore deux coeurs, pour ainsi dire; elle a plusieurs têtes; ces anomalies tomberont; mais aucun dogme vraiment original ne se formera plus." Also the discussions in chapters 28-34, of the same volume. H. Thiersch (Die Kirche im Apostolischen Zeitalter, 1852) reveals a deep insight into the difference between the spirit of the New Testament writers and the post-Apostolic Fathers, but he has overdone these differences and sought to explain them by the mythological assumption of an Apostasy. A great amount of material for the history of dogma may be found in the great work of Böhringer, Die Kirche Christi und ihre Zeugen, oder die Kirchengeschichte in Biographien. 2 Edit. 1864.] [Footnote 45: By the connection with general church history we must, above all, understand, a continuous regard to the world within which the church has been developed. The most recent works on the history of the church and of dogma, those of Renan, Overbeck (Anfänge der patristischen Litteratur), Aube, Von Engelhardt (Justin), Kühn (Minucius Felix). Hatch ("Organization of the early church," and especially his posthumous work "The influence of Greek ideas and usages upon the Christian Church," 1890, in which may be found the most ample proof for the conception of the early history of dogma which is set forth in the following pages), are in this respect worthy of special note. Deserving of mention also is R. Rothe, who, in his "Vorlesungen über Kirchengeschichte", edited by Weingarten, 1875, 2 vols, gave most significant suggestions towards a really historical conception of the history of the church and of dogma. To Rothe belongs the undiminished merit of realising thoroughly the significance of nationality in church history. But the theology of our century is also indebted for the first scientific conception of Catholicism, not to Marheineke or Winer, but to Rothe. (See Vol II. pp. 1-11 especially p. 7 f.). "The development of the Christian Church in the Græco-Roman world was not at the same time a development of that world by the Church and further by Christianity. There remained, as the result of the process, nothing but the completed Church. The world which had built it had made itself bankrupt in doing so." With regard to the origin and development of the Catholic cultus and constitution, nay, even of the Ethic (see Luthardt, Die antike Ethik, 1887, preface), that has been recognised by Protestant scholars, which one always hesitates to recognise with regard to catholic dogma: see the excellent remarks of Schwegler, Nachapostolisches Zeitalter. Vol. 1. p. 3 ff. It may be hoped that an intelligent consideration of early Christian literature will form the bridge to a broad and intelligent view of the history of dogma. The essay of Overbeck mentioned above (Histor. Zeitschrift. N. F. XII p. 417 ff.) may be most heartily recommended in this respect. It is very gratifying to find an investigator so conservative as Sohm, now fully admitting that "Christian theology grew up in the second and third centuries, when its foundations were laid for all time (?), the last great production of the Hellenic Spirit." (Kirchengeschichte im Grundriss, 1888. p. 37). The same scholar in his very important Kirchenrecht. Bd. I. 1892, has transferred to the history of the origin of Church law and Church organization, the points of view which I have applied in the following account to the consideration of dogma. He has thereby succeeded in correcting many old errors and prejudices; but in my opinion he has obscured the truth by exaggerations connected with a conception, not only of original Christianity, but also of the Gospel in general, which is partly a narrow legal view, partly an enthusiastic one. He has arrived _ex errore per veritatem ad errorem_; but there are few books from which so much may be learned about early church history as from this paradoxical "Kirchenrecht."] CHAPTER II THE PRESUPPOSITIONS OF THE HISTORY OF DOGMA § 1. _Introductory._ The Gospel presents itself as an Apocalyptic message on the soil of the Old Testament, and as the fulfilment of the law and the prophets, and yet is a new thing, the creation of a universal religion on the basis of that of the Old Testament. It appeared when the time was fulfilled, that is, it is not without a connection with the stage of religious and spiritual development which was brought about by the intercourse of Jews and Greeks, and was established in the Roman Empire; but still it is a new religion because it cannot be separated from Jesus Christ. When the traditional religion has become too narrow the new religion usually appears as something of a very abstract nature; philosophy comes upon the scene, and religion withdraws from social life and becomes a private matter. But here an overpowering personality has appeared--the Son of God. Word and deed coincide in that personality, and as it leads men into a new communion with God, it unites them at the same time inseparably with itself, enables them to act on the world as light and leaven, and joins them together in a spiritual unity and an active confederacy. 2. Jesus Christ brought no new doctrine, but he set forth in his own person a holy life with God and before God, and gave himself in virtue of this life to the service of his brethren in order to win them for the Kingdom of God, that is, to lead them out of selfishness and the world to God, out of the natural connections and contrasts to a union in love, and prepare them for an eternal kingdom and an eternal life. But while working for this Kingdom of God he did not withdraw from the religious and political communion of his people, nor did he induce his disciples to leave that communion. On the contrary, he described the Kingdom of God as the fulfilment of the promises given to the nation, and himself as the Messiah whom that nation expected. By doing so he secured for his new message, and with it his own person, a place in the system of religious ideas and hopes, which by means of the Old Testament were then, in diverse forms, current in the Jewish nation. The origin of a doctrine concerning the Messianic hope, in which the Messiah was no longer an unknown being, but Jesus of Nazareth, along with the new temper and disposition of believers was a direct result of the impression made by the person of Jesus. The conception of the Old Testament in accordance with the _analogia fidei_, that is, in accordance with the conviction that this Jesus of Nazareth is the Christ, was therewith given. Whatever sources of comfort and strength Christianity, even in its New Testament, has possessed or does possess up to the present, is for the most part taken from the Old Testament, viewed from a Christian stand-point, in virtue of the impression of the person of Jesus. Even its dross was changed into gold; its hidden treasures were brought forth, and while the earthly and transitory were recognised as symbols of the heavenly and eternal, there rose up a world of blessings, of holy ordinances, and of sure grace prepared by God from eternity. One could joyfully make oneself at home in it; for its long history guaranteed a sure future and a blessed close, while it offered comfort and certainty in all the changes of life to every individual heart that would only raise itself to God. From the positive position which Jesus took up towards the Old Testament, that is, towards the religious traditions of his people, his Gospel gained a footing which, later on, preserved it from dissolving in the glow of enthusiasm, or melting away in the ensnaring dream of antiquity, that dream of the indestructible Divine nature of the human spirit, and the nothingness and baseness of all material things.[46] But from the positive attitude of Jesus to the Jewish tradition, there followed also, for a generation that had long been accustomed to grope after the Divine active in the world, the summons to think out a theory of the media of revelation, and so put an end to the uncertainty with which speculation had hitherto been afflicted. This, like every theory of religion, concealed in itself the danger of crippling the power of faith; for men are ever prone to compound with religion itself by a religious theory. 3. The result of the preaching of Jesus, however, in the case of the believing Jews, was not only the illumination of the Old Testament by the Gospel and the confirmation of the Gospel by the Old Testament, but not less, though indirectly, the detachment of believers from the religious community of the Jews from the Jewish Church. How this came about cannot be discussed here: we may satisfy ourselves with the fact that it was essentially accomplished in the first two generations of believers. The Gospel was a message for humanity even where there was no break with Judaism: but it seemed impossible to bring this message home to men who were not Jews in any other way than by leaving the Jewish Church. But to leave that Church was to declare it to be worthless, and that could only be done by conceiving it as a malformation from its very commencement, or assuming that it had temporarily or completely fulfilled its mission. In either case it was necessary to put another in its place, for, according to the Old Testament, it was unquestionable that God had not only given revelations, but through these revelations had founded a nation, a religious community. The result, also, to which the conduct of the unbelieving Jews and the social union of the disciples of Jesus required by that conduct, led, was carried home with irresistible power: believers in Christ are the community of God, they are the true Israel, the [Greek: ekklêsia tou theou]: but the Jewish Church persisting in its unbelief is the Synagogue of Satan. Out of this consciousness sprang--first as a power in which one believed, but which immediately began to be operative, though not as a commonwealth--the christian church, a special communion of hearts on the basis of a personal union with God, established by Christ and mediated by the Spirit; a communion whose essential mark was to claim as its own the Old Testament and the idea of being the people of God, to sweep aside the Jewish conception of the Old Testament and the Jewish Church, and thereby gain the shape and power of a community that is capable of a mission for the world. 4. This independent Christian community could not have been formed had not Judaism, in consequence of inner and outer developments, then reached a point at which it must either altogether cease to grow or burst its shell. This community is the presupposition of the history of dogma, and the position which it took up towards the Jewish tradition is, strictly speaking, the point of departure for all further developments, so far as with the removal of all national and ceremonial peculiarities it proclaimed itself to be what the Jewish Church wished to be. We find the Christian Church about the middle of the third century, after severe crisis, in nearly the same position to the Old Testament and to Judaism as it was 150 or 200 years earlier.[47] It makes the same claim to the Old Testament, and builds its faith and hope upon its teaching. It is also, as before, strictly anti-national; above all, anti-judaic, and sentences the Jewish religious community to the abyss of hell. It might appear, then, as though the basis for the further development of Christianity as a church was completely given from the moment in which the first breach of believers with the synagogue and the formation of independent Christian communities took place. The problem, the solution of which will always exercise this church, so far as it reflects upon its faith, will be to turn the Old Testament more completely to account in its own sense, so as to condemn the Jewish Church with its particular and national forms. 5. But the rule even for the Christian use of the Old Testament lay originally in the living connection in which one stood with the Jewish people and its traditions, and a new religious community, a religious commonwealth, was not yet realised, although it existed for faith and thought. If again we compare the Church about the middle of the third century with the condition of Christendom 150 or 200 years before, we shall find that there is now a real religious commonwealth, while at the earlier period there were only communities who believed in a heavenly Church, whose earthly image they were, endeavoured to give it expression with the simplest means, and lived in the future as strangers and pilgrims on the earth, hastening to meet the Kingdom of whose existence they had the surest guarantee. We now really find a new commonwealth, politically formed and equipped with fixed forms of all kinds. We recognise in these forms few Jewish, but many Græco-Roman features, and finally, we perceive also in the doctrine of faith on which this commonwealth is based, the philosophic spirit of the Greeks. We find a Church as a political union and worship institute, a formulated faith and a sacred learning; but one thing we no longer find, the old enthusiasm and individualism which had not felt itself fettered by subjection to the authority of the Old Testament. Instead of enthusiastic independent Christians, we find a new literature of revelation, the New Testament, and Christian priests. When did these formations begin? How and by what influence was the living faith transformed into the creed to be believed, the surrender to Christ into a philosophic Christology, the Holy Church into the _corpus permixtum_, the glowing hope of the Kingdom of heaven into a doctrine of immortality and deification, prophecy into a learned exegesis and theological science, the bearers of the spirit into clerics, the brethren into laity held in tutelage, miracles and healings into nothing, or into priestcraft, the fervent prayers into a solemn ritual, renunciation of the world into a jealous dominion over the world, the "spirit" into constraint and law? There can be no doubt about the answer: these formations are as old in their origin as the detachment of the Gospel from the Jewish Church. A religious faith which seeks to establish a communion of its own in opposition to another, is compelled to borrow from that other what it needs. The religion which is life and feeling of the heart cannot be converted into a knowledge determining the motley multitude of men without deferring to their wishes and opinions. Even the holiest must clothe itself in the same existing earthly forms as the profane if it wishes to found on earth a confederacy which is to take the place of another, and if it does not wish to enslave, but to determine the reason. When the Gospel was rejected by the Jewish nation, and had disengaged itself from all connection with that nation, it was already settled whence it must take the material to form for itself a new body and be transformed into a Church and a theology. National and particular, in the ordinary sense of the word, these forms could not be: the contents of the Gospel were too rich for that; but separated from Judaism, nay, even before that separation, the Christian religion came in contact with the Roman world and with a culture which had already mastered the world, viz., the Greek. The Christian Church and its doctrine were developed within the Roman world and Greek culture in opposition to the Jewish Church. This fact is just as important for the history of dogma as the other stated above, that this Church was continuously nourished on the Old Testament. Christendom was of course conscious of being in opposition to the empire and its culture, as well as to Judaism; but this from the beginning--apart from a few exceptions--was not without reservations. No man can serve two masters; but in setting up a spiritual power in this world one must serve an earthly master, even when he desires to naturalise the spiritual in the world. As a consequence of the complete break with the Jewish Church there followed not only the strict necessity of quarrying the stones for the building of the Church from the Græco-Roman world, but also the idea that Christianity has a more positive relation to that world than to the synagogue. And, as the Church was being built, the original enthusiasm must needs vanish. The separation from Judaism having taken place, it was necessary that the spirit of another people should be admitted, and should also materially determine the manner of turning the Old Testament to advantage. 6. But an inner necessity was at work here no less than an outer. Judaism and Hellenism in the age of Christ were opposed to each other, not only as dissimilar powers of equal value, but the latter having its origin among a small people, became a universal spiritual power, which, severed from its original nationality, had for that very reason penetrated foreign nations. It had even laid hold of Judaism, and the anxious care of her professional watchmen to hedge round the national possession, is but a proof of the advancing decomposition within the Jewish nation. Israel, no doubt, had a sacred treasure which was of greater value than all the treasures of the Greeks,--the living God--but in what miserable vessels was this treasure preserved, and how much inferior was all else possessed by this nation in comparison with the riches, the power, the delicacy and freedom of the Greek spirit and its intellectual possessions. A movement like that of Christianity, which discovered to the Jew the soul whose dignity was not dependent on its descent from Abraham, but on its responsibility to God, could not continue in the framework of Judaism however expanded, but must soon recognise in that world which the Greek spirit had discovered and prepared, the field which belonged to it: [Greek: eikotôs Ioudaiois men nomos, Hellesi de philosophia mechris tês parousias enteuthen de hê klêsis hê katholikê] [to the Jews the law, to the Greeks Philosophy, up to the Parousia; from that time the catholic invitation.] But the Gospel at first was preached exclusively to the lost sheep of the house of Israel, and that which inwardly united it with Hellenism did not yet appear in any doctrine or definite form of knowledge. On the contrary, the Church doctrine of faith, in the preparatory stage, from the Apologists up to the time of Origen, hardly in any point shews the traces, scarcely even the remembrance of a time in which the Gospel was not detached from Judaism. For that very reason it is absolutely impossible to understand this preparation and development solely from the writings that remain to us as monuments of that short earliest period. The attempts at deducing the genesis of the Church's doctrinal system from the theology of Paul, or from compromises between Apostolic doctrinal ideas, will always miscarry; for they fail to note that to the most important premises of the Catholic doctrine of faith belongs an element which we cannot recognise as dominant in the New Testament,[48] viz., the Hellenic spirit.[49] As far backwards as we can trace the history of the propagation of the Church's doctrine of faith, from the middle of the third century to the end of the first, we nowhere perceive a leap, or the sudden influx of an entirely new element. What we perceive is rather the gradual disappearance of an original element, the Enthusiastic and Apocalyptic, that is, of the sure consciousness of an immediate possession of the Divine Spirit, and the hope of the future conquering the present; individual piety conscious of itself and sovereign, living in the future world, recognising no external authority and no external barriers. This piety became ever weaker and passed away: the utilising of the Codex of Revelation, the Old Testament, proportionally increased with the Hellenic influences which controlled the process, for the two went always hand in hand. At an earlier period the Churches made very little use of either, because they had in individual religious inspiration on the basis of Christ's preaching and the sure hope of his Kingdom which was near at hand, much more than either could bestow. The factors whose co-operation we observe in the second and third centuries, were already operative among the earliest Gentile Christians. We nowhere find a yawning gulf in the great development which lies between the first Epistle of Clement and the work of Origen, [Greek: Peri archôn]. Even the importance which the "Apostolic" was to obtain, was already foreshadowed by the end of the first century, and enthusiasm always had its limits.[50] The most decisive division, therefore, falls before the end of the first century; or more correctly, the relatively new element, the Greek, which is of importance for the forming of the Church as a commonwealth, and consequently for the formation of its doctrine, is clearly present in the churches even in the Apostolic age. Two hundred years, however, passed before it made itself completely at home in the Gospel, although there were points of connection inherent in the Gospel. 7. The cause of the great historical fact is clear. It is given in the fact that the Gospel, rejected by the majority of the Jews, was very soon proclaimed to those who were not Jews, that after a few decades the greater number of its professors were found among the Greeks, and that, consequently, the development leading to the Catholic dogma took place within Græco-Roman culture. But within this culture there was lacking the power of understanding either the idea of the completed Old Testament theocracy, or the idea of the Messiah. Both of these essential elements of the original proclamation, therefore, must either be neglected or remodelled.[51] But it is hardly allowable to mention details however important, where the whole aggregate of ideas, of religious historical perceptions and presuppositions, which were based on the old Testament, understood in a Christian sense, presented itself as something new and strange. One can easily appropriate words, but not practical ideas. Side by side with the Old Testament religion as the presupposition of the Gospel, and using its forms of thought, the moral and religious views and ideals dominant in the world of Greek culture could not but insinuate themselves into the communities consisting of Gentiles. From the enormous material that was brought home to the hearts of the Greeks, whether formulated by Paul or by any other, only a few rudimentary ideas could at first be appropriated. For that very reason, the Apostolic Catholic doctrine of faith in its preparation and establishment, is no mere continuation of that which, by uniting things that are certainly very dissimilar, is wont to be described as "Biblical Theology of the New Testament." Biblical Theology, even when kept within reasonable limits, is not the presupposition of the history of dogma. The Gentile Christians were little able to comprehend the controversies which stirred the Apostolic age within Jewish Christianity. The presuppositions of the history of dogma are given in certain fundamental ideas, or rather motives of the Gospel, (in the preaching concerning Jesus Christ, in the teaching of Evangelic ethics and the future life, in the Old Testament capable of any interpretation, but to be interpreted with reference to Christ and the Evangelic history), and in the Greek spirit.[52] 8. The foregoing statements involve that the difference between the development which led to the Catholic doctrine of religion and the original condition, was by no means a total one. By recognising the Old Testament as a book of Divine revelation, the Gentile Christians received along with it the religious speech which was used by Jewish Christians, were made dependent upon the interpretation which had been used from the very beginning, and even received a great part of the Jewish literature which accompanied the Old Testament. But the possession of a common religious speech and literature is never a mere outward bond of union, however strong the impulse be to introduce the old familiar contents into the newly acquired speech. The Jewish, that is, the Old Testament element, divested of its national peculiarity, has remained the basis of Christendom. It has saturated this element with the Greek spirit, but has always clung to its main idea, faith in God as the creator and ruler of the world. It has in the course of its development rejected important parts of that Jewish element, and has borrowed others at a later period from the great treasure that was transmitted to it. It has also been able to turn to account the least adaptable features, if only for the external confirmation of its own ideas. The Old Testament applied to Christ and his universal Church has always remained the decisive document, and it was long ere Christian writings received the same authority, long ere individual doctrines and sayings of Apostolic writings obtained an influence on the formation of ecclesiastical doctrine. 9. From yet another side there makes its appearance an agreement between the circles of Palestinian believers in Jesus and the Gentile Christian communities, which endured for more than a century, though it was of course gradually effaced. It is the enthusiastic element which unites them, the consciousness of standing in an immediate union with God through the Spirit, and receiving directly from God's hand miraculous gifts, powers and revelations, granted to the individual that he may turn them to account in the service of the Church. The depotentiation of the Christian religion, where one may believe in the inspiration of another, but no longer feels his own, nay, dare not feel it, is not altogether coincident with its settlement on Greek soil. On the contrary, it was more than two centuries ere weakness and reflection suppressed, or all but suppressed, the forms in which the personal consciousness of God originally expressed itself.[53] Now it certainly lies in the nature of enthusiasm, that it can assume the most diverse forms of expression, and follow very different impulses, and so far it frequently separates instead of uniting. But so long as criticism and reflection are not yet awakened, and a uniform ideal hovers before one, it does unite, and in this sense there existed an identity of disposition between the earliest Jewish Christians and the still enthusiastic Gentile Christian communities. 10. But, finally, there is a still further uniting element between the beginnings of the development to Catholicism, and the original condition of the Christian religion as a movement within Judaism, the importance of which cannot be overrated, although we have every reason to complain here of the obscurity of the tradition. Between the Græco-Roman world which was in search of a spiritual religion, and the Jewish commonwealth which already possessed such a religion as a national property, though vitiated by exclusiveness, there had long been a Judaism which, penetrated by the Greek spirit, was, _ex professo_, devoting itself to the task of bringing a new religion to the Greek world, the Jewish religion, but that religion in its kernel Greek, that is, philosophically moulded, spiritualised and secularised. Here then was already consummated an intimate union of the Greek spirit with the Old Testament religion, within the Empire and to a less degree in Palestine itself. If everything is not to be dissolved into a grey mist, we must clearly distinguish this union between Judaism and Hellenism and the spiritualising of religion it produced, from the powerful but indeterminable influences which the Greek spirit exercised on all things Jewish, and which have been a historical condition of the Gospel. The alliance, in my opinion, was of no significance at all for the _origin_ of the Gospel, but was of the most decided importance, first, for the propagation of Christianity, and then, for the development of Christianity to Catholicism, and for the genesis of the Catholic doctrine of faith.[54] We cannot certainly name any particular personality who was specially active in this, but we can mention three facts which prove more than individual references. (1) The propaganda of Christianity in the Diaspora followed the Jewish propaganda and partly took its place, that is, the Gospel was at first preached to those Gentiles who were already acquainted with the general outlines of the Jewish religion, and who were even frequently viewed as a Judaism of a second order, in which Jewish and Greek elements had been united in a peculiar mixture. (2) The conception of the Old Testament, as we find it even in the earliest Gentile Christian teachers, the method of spiritualising it, etc., agrees in the most surprising way with the methods which were used by the Alexandrian Jews. (3) There are Christian documents in no small number and of unknown origin, which completely agree in plan, in form and contents with Græco-Jewish writings of the Diaspora, as for example, the Christian Sibylline Oracles, and the pseudo-Justinian treatise, "de Monarchia." There are numerous tractates of which it is impossible to say with certainty whether they are of Jewish or of Christian origin. The Alexandrian and non-Palestinian Judaism is still Judaism. As the Gospel seized and moved the whole of Judaism, it must also have been operative in the non Palestinian Judaism. But that already foreshadowed the transition of the Gospel to the non-Jewish Greek region, and the fate which it was to experience there. For that non-Palestinian Judaism formed the bridge between the Jewish Church and the Roman Empire, together with its culture.[55] The Gospel passed into the world chiefly by this bridge. Paul indeed had a large share in this, but his own Churches did not understand the way he led them, and were not able on looking back to find it.[56] He indeed became a Greek to the Greeks, and even began the undertaking of placing the treasures of Greek knowledge at the service of the Gospel. But the knowledge of Christ crucified, to which he subordinated all other knowledge as only of preparatory value, had nothing in common with Greek philosophy, while the idea of justification and the doctrine of the Spirit (Rom. VIII), which together formed the peculiar contents of his Christianity, were irreconcilable with the moralism and the religious ideals of Hellenism. But the great mass of the earliest Gentile Christians became Christians because they perceived in the Gospel the sure tidings of the benefits and obligations which they had already sought in the fusion of Jewish and Greek elements. It is only by discerning this that we can grasp the preparation and genesis of the Catholic Church and its dogma. From the foregoing statements it appears that there fall to be considered as presuppositions of the origin of the Catholic Apostolic doctrine of faith, the following topics, though of unequal importance as regards the extent of their influence: (a) The Gospel of Jesus Christ. (b) The common preaching of Jesus Christ in the first generation of believers. (c) The current exposition of the Old Testament, the Jewish speculations and hopes of the future, in their significance for the earliest types of Christian preaching.[57] (d) The religious conceptions, and the religious philosophy of the Hellenistic Jews, in their significance for the later restatement of the Gospel. (e) The religious dispositions of the Greeks and Romans of the first two centuries, and the current Græco-Roman philosophy of religion. § 2. _The Gospel of Jesus Christ according to His own testimony concerning Himself._ I. The Fundamental Features. The Gospel entered into the world as an apocalyptic eschatological message, apocalyptical and eschatological not only in its form, but also in its contents. But Jesus announced that the kingdom of God had already begun with his own work, and those who received him in faith became sensible of this beginning; for the "apocalyptical" was not merely the unveiling of the future, but above all the revelation of God as the Father, and the "eschatological" received its counterpoise in the view of Jesus' work as Saviour, in the assurance of being certainly called to the kingdom, and in the conviction that life and future dominion is hid with God the Lord and preserved for believers by him. Consequently, we are following not only the indications of the succeeding history, but also the requirement of the thing itself, when, in the presentation of the Gospel, we place in the foreground, not that which unites it with the contemporary disposition of Judaism, but that which raises it above it. Instead of the hope of inheriting the kingdom, Jesus had also spoken simply of preserving the soul, or the life. In this one substitution lies already a transformation of universal significance, of political religion into a religion that is individual and therefore holy; for the life is nourished by the word of God, but God is the Holy One. The Gospel is the glad message of the government of the world and of every individual soul by the almighty and holy God, the Father and Judge. In this dominion of God, which frees men from the power of the Devil, makes them rulers in a heavenly kingdom in contrast with the kingdoms of the world, and which will also be sensibly realised in the future æon just about to appear, is secured life for all men who yield themselves to God, although they should lose the world and the earthly life. That is, the soul which is pure and holy in connection with God, and in imitation of the Divine perfection is eternally preserved with God, while those who would gain the world, and preserve their life, fall into the hands of the Judge who sentences them to Hell. This dominion of God imposes on men a law, an old and yet a new law, viz., that of the Divine perfection and therefore of undivided love to God and to our neighbour. In this love, where it sways the inmost feeling, is presented the better righteousness (better not only with respect to the Scribes and Pharisees, but also with respect to Moses, see Matt. V.), which corresponds to the perfection of God. The way to attain it is a change of mind, that is, self-denial, humility before God, and heartfelt trust in him. In this humility and trust in God there is contained a recognition of one's own unworthiness; but the Gospel calls to the kingdom of God those very sinners who are thus minded, by promising the forgiveness of the sins which hitherto have separated them from God. But the Gospel which appears in these three elements, the dominion of God, a better righteousness embodied in the law of love, and the forgiveness of sin, is inseparably connected with Jesus Christ; for in preaching this Gospel Jesus Christ everywhere calls men to himself. In him the Gospel is word and deed; it has become his food, and therefore his personal life, and into this life of his he draws all others. He is the Son who knows the Father. In him men are to perceive the kindness of the Lord; in him they are to feel God's power and government of the world, and to become certain of this consolation; they are to follow him the meek and lowly, and while he, the pure and holy one, calls sinners to himself, they are to receive the assurance that God through him forgiveth sin. Jesus Christ has by no express statement thrust this connection of his Gospel with his Person into the foreground. No words could have certified it unless his life, the overpowering impression of his Person, had created it. By living, acting and speaking from the riches of that life which he lived with his Father, he became for others the revelation of the God of whom they formerly had heard, but whom they had not known. He declared his Father to be their Father and they understood him. But he also declared himself to be Messiah, and in so doing gave an intelligible expression to his abiding significance for them and for his people. In a solemn hour at the close of his life, as well as on special occasions at an earlier period, he referred to the fact that the surrender to his Person which induced them to leave all and follow him, was no passing element in the new position they had gained towards God the Father. He tells them, on the contrary, that this surrender corresponds to the service which he will perform for them and for the many, when he will give his life a sacrifice for the sins of the world. By teaching them to think of him and of his death in the breaking of bread and the drinking of wine, and by saying of his death that it takes place for the remission of sins, he has claimed as his due from all future disciples what was a matter of course so long as he sojourned with them, but what might fade away after he was parted from them. He who in his preaching of the kingdom of God raised the strictest self-examination and humility to a law, and exhibited them to his followers in his own life, has described with clear consciousness his life crowned by death as the imperishable service by which men in all ages will be cleansed from their sin and made joyful in their God. By so doing he put himself far above all others, although they were to become his brethren; and claimed a unique and permanent importance as Redeemer and Judge. This permanent importance as the Lord he secured, not by disclosures about the mystery of his Person, but by the impression of his life and the interpretation of his death. He interprets it, like all his sufferings, as a victory, as the passing over to his glory, and in spite of the cry of God-forsakenness upon the cross, he has proved himself able to awaken in his followers the real conviction that he lives and is Lord and Judge of the living and the dead. The religion of the Gospel is based on this belief in Jesus Christ, that is, by looking to him, this historical person, it becomes certain to the believer that God rules heaven and earth, and that God, the Judge, is also Father and Redeemer. The religion of the Gospel is the religion which makes the highest moral demands, the simplest and the most difficult, and discloses the contradiction in which every man finds himself towards them. But it also procures redemption from such misery, by drawing the life of men into the inexhaustible and blessed life of Jesus Christ, who has overcome the world and called sinners to himself. In making this attempt to put together the fundamental features of the Gospel, I have allowed myself to be guided by the results of this Gospel in the case of the first disciples. I do not know whether it is permissible to present such fundamental features apart from this guidance. The preaching of Jesus Christ was in the main so plain and simple, and in its application so manifold and rich, that one shrinks from attempting to systematise it, and would much rather merely narrate according to the Gospel. Jesus searches for the point in every man on which he can lay hold of him and lead him to the Kingdom of God. The distinction of good and evil--for God or against God--he would make a life question for every man, in order to shew him for whom it has become this, that he can depend upon the God whom he is to fear. At the same time he did not by any means uniformly fall back upon sin, or even the universal sinfulness, but laid hold of individuals very diversely, and led them to God by different paths. The doctrinal concentration of redemption on sin was certainly not carried out by Paul alone; but, on the other hand, it did not in any way become the prevailing form for the preaching of the Gospel. On the contrary, the antitheses, night, error, dominion of demons, death and light, truth, deliverance, life, proved more telling in the Gentile Churches. The consciousness of universal sinfulness was first made the negative fundamental frame of mind of Christendom by Augustine. II. Details. 1. Jesus announced the Kingdom of God which stands in opposition to the kingdom of the devil, and therefore also to the kingdom of the world, as a future Kingdom, and yet it is presented in his preaching as present; as an invisible, and yet it was visible--for one actually saw it. He lived and spoke within the circle of eschatological ideas which Judaism had developed more than two hundred years before: but he controlled them by giving them a new content and forcing them into a new direction. Without abrogating the law and the prophets he, on fitting occasions, broke through the national, political and sensuous eudæmonistic forms in which the nation was expecting the realisation of the dominion of God, but turned their attention at the same time to a future near at hand, in which believers would be delivered from the oppression of evil and sin, and would enjoy blessedness and dominion. Yet he declared that even now, every individual who is called into the kingdom may call on God as his Father, and be sure of the gracious will of God, the hearing of his prayers, the forgiveness of sin, and the protection of God even in this present life.[58] But everything in this proclamation is directed to the life beyond: the certainty of that life is the power and earnestness of the Gospel. 2. The conditions of entrance to the kingdom are, in the first place, a complete change of mind, in which a man renounces the pleasures of this world, denies himself, and is ready to surrender all that he has in order to save his soul; then, a believing trust in God's grace which he grants to the humble and the poor, and therefore hearty confidence in Jesus as the Messiah chosen and called by God to realise his kingdom on the earth. The announcement is therefore directed to the poor, the suffering, those hungering and thirsting for righteousness, not to those who live, but to those who wish to be healed and redeemed, and finds them prepared for entrance into, and reception of the blessings of the kingdom of God,[59] while it brings down upon the self-satisfied, the rich and those proud of their righteousness, the judgment of obduracy and the damnation of Hell. 3. The commandment of undivided love to God and the brethren, as the main commandment, in the observance of which righteousness is realised, and forming the antithesis to the selfish mind, the lust of the world, and every arbitrary impulse,[60] corresponds to the blessings of the Kingdom of God, viz., forgiveness of sin, righteousness, dominion and blessedness. The standard of personal worth for the members of the King is self-sacrificing labour for others, not any technical mode of worship or legal preciseness. Renunciation of the world together with its goods, even of life itself in certain circumstances, is the proof of a man's sincerity and earnest in seeking the Kingdom of God; and the meekness which renounces every right, bears wrong patiently, requiting it with kindness, is the practical proof of love to God, the conduct that answers to God's perfection. 4. In the proclamation and founding of this kingdom, Jesus summoned men to attach themselves to him, because he had recognised himself to be the helper called by God, and therefore also the Messiah who was promised.[61] He gradually declared himself to the people as such by the names he assumed,[62] for the names "Anointed," "King," "Lord," "Son of David," "Son of Man," "Son of God," all denote the Messianic office, and were familiar to the greater part of the people.[63] But though, at first, they express only the call, office, and power of the Messiah, yet by means of them and especially by the designation Son of God, Jesus pointed to a relation to God the Father, then and in its immediateness unique, as the basis of the office with which he was entrusted. He has, however, given no further explanation of the mystery of this relation than the declaration that the Son alone knoweth the Father, and that this knowledge of God and Sonship to God are secured for all others by the sending of the Son.[64] In the proclamation of God as Father,[65] as well as in the other proclamation that all the members of the kingdom following the will of God in love, are to become one with the Son and through him with the Father,[66] the message of the realised kingdom of God receives its richest, inexhaustible content: the Son of the Father will be the first-born among many brethren. 5. Jesus as the Messiah chosen by God has definitely distinguished himself from Moses and all the Prophets: as his preaching and his work are the fulfilment of the law and the prophets, so he himself is not a disciple of Moses, but corrects that law-giver; he is not a Prophet, but Master and Lord. He proves this Lordship during his earthly ministry in the accomplishment of the mighty deeds given him to do, above all in withstanding the Devil and his kingdom,[67] and--according to the law of the Kingdom of God--for that very reason in the service which he performs. In this service Jesus also reckoned the sacrifice of his life, designating it as a [Greek: lutron] which he offered for the redemption of man.[68] But he declared at the same time that his Messianic work was not yet fulfilled in his subjection to death. On the contrary, the close is merely initiated by his death; for the completion of the kingdom will only appear when he returns in glory in the clouds of heaven to judgment. Jesus seems to have announced this speedy return a short time before his death, and to have comforted his disciples at his departure, with the assurance that he would immediately enter into a supramundane position with God.[69] 6. The instructions of Jesus to his disciples are accordingly dominated by the thought that the end, the day and hour of which, however, no one knows, is at hand. In consequence of this, also, the exhortation to renounce all earthly good takes a prominent place. But Jesus does not impose ascetic commandments as a new law, far less does he see in asceticism as such, sanctification[70]--he himself did not live as an ascetic, but was reproached as a wine-bibber--but he prescribed a perfect simplicity and purity of disposition, and a singleness of heart which remains invariably the same in trouble and renunciation, in possession and use of earthly good. A uniform equality of all in the conduct of life is not commanded: "To whom much is given, of him much shall be required." The disciples are kept as far from fanaticism and overrating of spiritual results as from asceticism. "Rejoice not that the spirits are subject to you, but rejoice that your names are written in heaven." When they besought him to teach them to pray, he taught them the "Lord's prayer", a prayer which demands such a collected mind, and such a tranquil, childlike elevation of the heart to God, that it cannot be offered at all by minds subject to passion or preoccupied by any daily cares. 7. Jesus himself did not found a new religious community, but gathered round him a circle of disciples, and chose Apostles whom he commanded to preach the Gospel. His preaching was universalistic inasmuch as it attributed no value to ceremonialism as such, and placed the fulfilment of the Mosaic law in the exhibition of its moral contents, partly against or beyond the letter. He made the law perfect by harmonising its particular requirements with the fundamental moral requirements which were also expressed in the Mosaic law. He emphasised the fundamental requirements more decidedly than was done by the law itself, and taught that all details should be referred to them and deduced from them. The external righteousness of Pharisaism was thereby declared to be not only an outer covering, but also a fraud, and the bond which still united religion and nationality in Judaism was sundered.[71] Political and national elements may probably have been made prominent in the hopes of the future, as Jesus appropriated them for his preaching. But from the conditions to which the realising of the hopes for the individual was attached, there already shone the clearer ray which was to eclipse those elements, and one saying such as Matt. XXII. 21, annulled at once political religion and religious politics. _Supplement_ 1.--The idea of the inestimable inherent value of every individual human soul, already dimly appearing in several psalms, and discerned by Greek Philosophers, though as a rule developed in contradiction to religion, stands out plainly in the preaching of Jesus. It is united with the idea of God as Father, and is the complement to the message of the communion of brethren realising itself in love. In this sense the Gospel is at once profoundly individualistic and Socialistic. The prospect of gaining life, and preserving it for ever, is therefore also the highest which Jesus has set forth, it is not, however, to be a motive, but a reward of grace. In the certainty of this prospect, which is the converse of renouncing the world, he has proclaimed the sure hope of the resurrection, and consequently the most abundant compensation for the loss of the natural life. Jesus put an end to the vacillation and uncertainty which in this respect still prevailed among the Jewish people of his day. The confession of the Psalmist, "Whom have I in heaven but thee, and there is none upon the earth that I desire beside thee", and the fulfilling of the Old Testament commandment, "Love thy neighbour as thyself", were for the first time presented in their connection in the person of Jesus. He himself therefore is Christianity, for the "impression of his person convinced the disciples of the facts of forgiveness of sin and the second birth, and gave them courage to believe in and to lead a new life." We cannot therefore state the "doctrine" of Jesus; for it appears as a supramundane life which must be felt in the person of Jesus, and its truth is guaranteed by the fact that such a life can be lived. _Supplement_ 2.--The history of the Gospel contains two great transitions, both of which, however, fall within the first century; from Christ to the first generation of believers, including Paul, and from the first, Jewish Christian, generation of these believers to the Gentile Christians, in other words: from Christ to the brotherhood of believers in Christ, and from this to the incipient Catholic Church. No later transitions in the Church can be compared with these in importance. As to the first, the question has frequently been asked, Is the Gospel of Christ to be the authority or the Gospel concerning Christ? But the strict dilemma here is false. The Gospel certainly is the Gospel of Christ. For it has only, in the sense of Jesus, fulfilled its Mission when the Father has been declared to men as he was known by the Son, and where the life is swayed by the realities and principles which ruled the life of Jesus Christ. But it is in accordance with the mind of Jesus and at the same time a fact of history, that this Gospel can only be appropriated and adhered to in connection with a believing surrender to the person of Jesus Christ. Yet every dogmatic formula is suspicious, because it is fitted to wound the spirit of religion; it should not at least be put before the living experience in order to evoke it; for such a procedure is really the admission of the half belief which thinks it necessary that the impression made by the person must be supplemented. The essence of the matter is a personal life which awakens life around it as the fire of one torch kindles another. Early as weakness of faith is in the Church of Christ, it is no earlier than the procedure of making a formulated and ostensibly proved confession the foundation of faith, and therefore demanding, above all, subjection to this confession. Faith assuredly is propagated by the testimony of faith, but dogma is not in itself that testimony. The peculiar character of the Christian religion is conditioned by the fact that every reference to God is at the same time a reference to Jesus Christ, and _vice versa_. In this sense the Person of Christ is the central point of the religion, and inseparably united with the substance of piety as a sure reliance on God. Such a union does not, as is supposed, bring a foreign element into the pure essence of religion. The pure essence of religion rather demands such a union; for "the reverence for persons, the inner bowing before the manifestation of moral power and goodness is the root of all true religion" (W. Herrmann). But the Christian religion knows and names only one name before which it bows. In this rests its positive character, in all else, as piety, it is by its strictly spiritual and inward attitude, not a positive religion alongside of others, but religion itself. But just because the Person of Christ has this significance is the knowledge and understanding of the "historical Christ" required: for no other comes within the sphere of our knowledge. "The historical Christ" that, to be sure, is not the powerless Christ of contemporary history shewn to us through a coloured biographical medium, or dissipated in all sorts of controversies, but Christ as a power and as a life which towers above our own life, and enters into our life as God's Spirit and God's Word, (see Herrmann, Der Verkehr des Christen mit Gott. 2. Edit. 1892, (i.e., "The Fellowship of the Christian with God", an important work included in the present series of translations. Ed.) Kähler, Der sog. historische Jesus und der geschichtliche biblische Christus, 1892). But historical labour and investigation are needed in order to grasp this Jesus Christ ever more firmly and surely. As to the second transition, it brought with it the most important changes, which, however, became clearly manifest only after the lapse of some generations. They appear, first, in the belief in holy consecrations, efficacious in themselves, and administered by chosen persons; further, in the conviction, that the relation of the individual to God and Christ is, above all, conditioned on the acceptance of a definite divinely attested law of faith and holy writings; further, in the opinion that God has established Church arrangements, observance of which is necessary and meritorious, as well as in the opinion that a visible earthly community is the people of a new covenant. These assumptions, which formally constitute the essence of Catholicism as a religion, have no support in the teaching of Jesus, nay, offend against that teaching. _Supplement_ 3.--The question as to what new thing Christ has brought, answered by Paul in the words, "If any man be in Christ he is a new creature, old things are passed away, behold all things are become new", has again and again been pointedly put since the middle of the second century by Apologists, Theologians and religious Philosophers, within and without the Church, and has received the most varied answers. Few of the answers have reached the height of the Pauline confession. But where one cannot attain to this confession, one ought to make clear to oneself that every answer which does not lie in the line of it is altogether unsatisfactory; for it is not difficult to set over against every article from the preaching of Jesus an observation which deprives it of its originality. It is the Person, it is the fact of his life that is new and creates the new. The way in which he called forth and established a people of God on earth, which has become sure of God and of eternal life; the way in which he set up a new thing in the midst of the old and transformed the religion of Israel into _the religion_ that is the mystery of his Person, in which lies his unique and permanent position in the history of humanity. _Supplement_ 4.--The conservative position of Jesus towards the religious traditions of his people had the necessary result that his preaching and his Person were placed by believers in the frame-work of this tradition, which was thereby very soon greatly expanded. But, though this way of understanding the Gospel was certainly at first the only possible way, and though the Gospel itself could only be preserved by such means (see § 1), yet it cannot be mistaken that a displacement in the conception of the Person and preaching of Jesus, and a burdening of religious faith, could not but forthwith set in, from which developments followed, the premises of which would be vainly sought for in the words of the Lord (see §§ 3, 4). But here the question arises as to whether the Gospel is not inseparably connected with the eschatological world-renouncing element with which it entered into the world, so that its being is destroyed where this is omitted. A few words may be devoted to this question. The Gospel possesses properties which oppose every positive religion, because they depreciate it, and these properties form the kernel of the Gospel. The disposition which is devoted to God, humble, ardent and sincere in its love to God and to the brethren, is, as an abiding habit, law, and at the same time, a gift of the Gospel, and also finally exhausts it. This quiet, peaceful element was at the beginning strong and vigorous, even in those who lived in the world of ecstasy and expected the world to come. One may be named for all, Paul. He who wrote 1 Cor. XIII. and Rom. VIII. should not, in spite of all that he has said elsewhere, be called upon to witness that the nature of the Gospel is exhausted in its world-renouncing, ecstatic and eschatological elements, or at least, that it is so inseparably united with these as to fall along with them. He who wrote those chapters, and the greater than he who promised the kingdom of heaven to children, and to those who were hungering and thirsting for righteousness, he to whom tradition ascribes the words: "Rejoice not that the spirits are subject to you, but rather rejoice that your names are written in heaven"--both attest that the Gospel lies above the antagonisms between this world and the next, work and retirement from the world, reason and ecstasy, Judaism and Hellenism. And because it lies above them it may be united with either, as it originally unfolded its powers under the ruins of the Jewish religion. But still more; it not only can enter into union with them, it must do so if it is otherwise the religion of the living and is itself living. It has only one aim; that man may find God and have him as his own God, in order to gain in him humility and patience, peace, joy and love. How it reaches this goal through the advancing centuries, whether with the co-efficients of Judaism or Hellenism, of renunciation of the world or of culture, of mysticism or the doctrine of predestination, of Gnosticism or Agnosticism, and whatever other incrustations there may yet be which can defend the kernel, and under which alone living elements can grow--all that belongs to the centuries. However each individual Christian may reckon to the treasure itself the earthly vessel in which he hides his treasure; it is the duty and the right, not only of the religious, but also of the historical estimate to distinguish between the vessel and the treasure; for the Gospel did not enter into the world as a positive statutory religion, and cannot therefore have its classic manifestation in any form of its intellectual or social types, not even in the first. It is therefore the duty of the historian of the first century of the Church, as well as that of those which follow, not to be content with fixing the changes of the Christian religion, but to examine how far the new forms were capable of defending, propagating and impressing the Gospel itself. It would probably have perished if the forms of primitive Christianity had been scrupulously maintained in the Church; but now primitive Christianity has perished in order that the Gospel might be preserved. To study this progress of the development, and fix the significance of the newly received forms for the kernel of the matter, is the last and highest task of the historian who himself lives in his subject. He who approaches from without must be satisfied with the general view that in the history of the Church some things have always remained, and other things have always been changing. _Literature._--Weiss. Biblical Theology of the New Testament. T. and T. Clark. Wittichen. Beitr. z. bibl. Theol. 3. Thle. 1864-72. Schüreer. Die Predigt Jesu in ihrem Verhaltniss z. A.T.u. z. Judenthum, 1882. Wellhausen. Abriss der Gesch. Israels u. Juda's (Skizzen u. Vorarbeiten) I. Heft. 1884. Baldensperger. Das Selbstbewusstsein Jesu im Licht der Messianischen Hoffnungen seiner Zeit, 1888, (2 Aufl. 1891). The prize essays of Schmoller and Issel, Ueber die Lehre vom Reiche Gottes im N. Test. 1891 (besides Gunkel in d. Theol. Lit. Ztg. 1893. N°. 2). Wendt. Die Lehre Jesu. (The teaching of Jesus. T. and T. Clark. English translation.) Joh. Weiss. Die Predigt Jesu vom Reiche Gottes, 1892. Bousset. Jesu Predigt in ihrem Gegensatz zum Judenthum, 1892. C. Holtzman. Die Offenbarung durch Christus und das Neue Testament (Zeitschr. f. Theol. und Kirche I. p. 367 ff.) The special literature in the above work of Weiss, and in the recent works on the life of Jesus, and the Biblical Theology of the New Testament by Beyschlag. (T.T. Clark) § 3. _The Common Preaching concerning Jesus Christ in the First Generation of Believers._ Men had met with Jesus Christ and in him had found the Messiah. They were convinced that God had made him to be wisdom and righteousness, sanctification and redemption. There was no hope that did not seem to be certified in him, no lofty idea which had not become in him a living reality. Everything that one possessed was offered to him. He was everything lofty that could be imagined. Everything that can be said of him was already said in the first two generations after his appearance. Nay, more: he was felt and known to be the ever living one, Lord of the world and operative principle of one's own life. "To me to live is Christ and to die is gain;" "He is the way, the truth and the life." One could now for the first time be certain of the resurrection and eternal life, and with that certainty the sorrows of the world melted away like mist before the sun, and the residue of this present time became as a day. This group of facts which the history of the Gospel discloses in the world, is at the same time the highest and most unique of all that we meet in that history; it is its seal and distinguishes it from all other universal religions. Where in the history of mankind can we find anything resembling this, that men who had eaten and drunk with their Master should glorify him, not only as the revealer of God, but as the Prince of life, as the Redeemer and Judge of the world, as the living power of its existence, and that a choir of Jews and Gentiles, Greeks and Barbarians, wise and foolish, should along with them immediately confess that out of the fulness of this one man they have received grace for grace? It has been said that Islam furnishes the unique example of a religion born in broad daylight, but the community of Jesus was also born in the clear light of day. The darkness connected with its birth is occasioned not only by the imperfection of the records, but by the uniqueness of the fact, which refers us back to the uniqueness of the Person of Jesus. But though it certainly is the first duty of the historian to signalise the overpowering impression made by the Person of Jesus on the disciples, which is the basis of all further developments, it would little become him to renounce the critical examination of all the utterances which have been connected with that Person with the view of elucidating and glorifying it; unless he were with Origen to conclude that Jesus was to each and all whatever they fancied him to be for their edification. But this would destroy the personality. Others are of opinion that we should conceive him, in the sense of the early communities, as the second God who is one in essence with the Father, in order to understand from this point of view all the declarations and judgments of these communities. But this hypothesis leads to the most violent distortion of the original declarations, and the suppression or concealment of their most obvious features. The duty of the historian rather consists in fixing the common features of the faith of the first two generations, in explaining them as far as possible from the belief that Jesus is Messiah, and in seeking analogies for the several assertions. Only a very meagre sketch can be given in what follows. The presentation of the matter in the frame-work of the history of dogma does not permit of more, because as noted above, § 1, the presupposition of dogma forming itself in the Gentile Church is not the whole infinitely rich abundance of early Christian views and perceptions. That presupposition is simply a proclamation of the one God and of Christ transferred to Greek soil, fixed merely in its leading features and otherwise very plastic, accompanied by a message regarding the future, and demands for a holy life. At the same time the Old Testament and the early Christian Palestinian writings with the rich abundance of their contents, did certainly exercise a silent mission in the earliest communities, till by the creation of the canon they became a power in the Church. I. The contents of the faith of the disciples,[72] and the common proclamation which united them, may be comprised in the following propositions. Jesus of Nazareth is the Messiah promised by the prophets. Jesus after his death is by the Divine awakening raised to the right hand of God, and will soon return to set up his kingdom visibly upon the earth. He who believes in Jesus, and has been received into the community of the disciples of Jesus, who, in virtue of a sincere change of mind, calls on God as Father, and lives according to the commandments of Jesus, is a saint of God, and as such can be certain of the sin-forgiving grace of God, and of a share in the future glory, that is, of redemption.[73] A community of Christian believers was formed within the Jewish national community. By its organisation, the close brotherly union of its members, it bore witness to the impression which the Person of Jesus had made on it, and drew from faith in Jesus and hope of his return, the assurance of eternal life, the power of believing in God the Father and of fulfilling the lofty moral and social commands which Jesus had set forth. They knew themselves to be the true Israel of the Messianic time (see § 1), and for that very reason lived with all their thoughts and feelings in the future. Hence the Apocalyptic hopes which in manifold types were current in the Judaism of the time, and which Jesus had not demolished, continued to a great extent in force (see § 4). One guarantee for their fulfilment was supposed to be possessed in the various manifestations of the Spirit,[74] which were displayed in the members of the new communities at their entrance, with which an act of baptism seems to have been united from the very first[75], and in their gatherings. They were a guarantee that believers really were the [Greek: ekklêsia tou theou], those called to be saints, and, as such, kings and priests unto God[76] for whom the world, death and devil are overcome, although they still rule the course of the world. The confession of the God of Israel as the Father of Jesus, and of Jesus as Christ and Lord[77] was sealed by the testimony of the possession of the Spirit, which as Spirit of God assured every individual of his call to the kingdom, united him personally with God himself and became to him the pledge of future glory[78]. 2. As the Kingdom of God which was announced had not yet visibly appeared, as the appeal to the Spirit could not be separated from the appeal to Jesus as Messiah, and as there was actually nothing possessed but the reality of the Person of Jesus, so in preaching all stress must necessarily fall on this Person. To believe in him was the decisive fundamental requirement, and, at first, under the presupposition of the religion of Abraham and the Prophets, the sure guarantee of salvation. It is not surprising then to find that in the earliest Christian preaching Jesus Christ comes before us as frequently as the Kingdom of God in the preaching of Jesus himself. The image of Jesus, and the power which proceeded from it, were the things which were really possessed. Whatever was expected was expected only from Jesus the exalted and returning one. The proclamation that the Kingdom of heaven is at hand must therefore become the proclamation that Jesus is the Christ, and that in him the revelation of God is complete. He who lays hold of Jesus lays hold in him of the grace of God, and of a full salvation. We cannot, however, call this in itself a displacement: but as soon as the proclamation that Jesus is the Christ ceased to be made with the same emphasis and the same meaning that it had in his own preaching, and what sort of blessings they were which he brought, not only was a displacement inevitable, but even a dispossession. But every dispossession requires the given forms to be filled with new contents. Simple as was the pure tradition of the confession: "Jesus is the Christ," the task of rightly appropriating and handing down entire the peculiar contents which Jesus had given to his self-witnessing and preaching was nevertheless great, and in its limit uncertain. Even the Jewish Christian could perform this task only according to the measure of his spiritual understanding and the strength of his religious life. Moreover, the external position of the first communities in the midst of contemporaries who had crucified and rejected Jesus, compelled them to prove, as their main duty, that Jesus really was the Messiah who was promised. Consequently, everything united to bring the first communities to the conviction that the proclamation of the Gospel with which they were entrusted, resolved itself into the proclamation that Jesus is the Christ. The [Greek: didaskein têrein panta hota eneteilato ho Iêsous] (teaching to observe all that Jesus had commanded), a thing of heart and life, could not lead to reflection in the same degree, as the [Greek: didaskein hoti outos estin ho christos tou theou] (teaching that this is the Christ of God): for a community which possesses the Spirit does not reflect on whether its conception is right, but, especially a missionary community, on what the certainty of its faith rests. The proclamation of Jesus as the Christ, though rooted entirely in the Old Testament, took its start from the exaltation of Jesus, which again resulted from his suffering and death. The proof that the entire Old Testament points to him, and that his person, his deeds and his destiny are the actual and precise fulfilment of the Old Testament predictions, was the foremost interest of believers, so far as they at all looked backwards. This proof was not used in the first place for the purpose of making the meaning and value of the Messianic work of Jesus more intelligible, of which it did not seem to be in much need, but to confirm the Messiahship of Jesus. Still, points of view for contemplating the Person and work of Jesus could not fail to be got from the words of the Prophets. The fundamental conception of Jesus dominating everything was, according to the Old Testament, that God had chosen him and through him the Church. God had chosen him and made him to be both Lord and Christ. He had made over to him the work of setting up the Kingdom, and had led him through death and resurrection to a supra-mundane position of sovereignty, in which he would soon visibly appear and bring about the end. The hope of Christ's speedy return was the most important article in the "Christology," inasmuch as his work was regarded as only reaching its conclusion by that return. It was the most difficult, inasmuch as the Old Testament contained nothing of a second advent of Messiah. Belief in the second advent became the specific Christian belief. But the searching in the scriptures of the Old Testament, that is, in the prophetic texts, had already, in estimating the Person and dignity of Christ, given an important impulse towards transcending the frame-work of the idea of the theocracy completed solely in and for Israel. Moreover, belief in the exaltation of Christ to the right hand of God, caused men to form a corresponding idea of the beginning of his existence. The missionary work among the Gentiles, so soon begun and so rich in results, threw a new light on the range of Christ's purpose and work, and led to the consideration of its significance for the whole human race. Finally, the self-testimony of Jesus summoned them to ponder his relation to God the Father, with the presuppositions of that relation, and to give it expression in intelligible statements. Speculation had already begun on these four points in the Apostolic age, and had resulted in very different utterances as to the Person and dignity of Jesus (§ 4).[79] 3. Since Jesus had appeared and was believed on as the Messiah promised by the Prophets, the aim and contents of his mission seemed already to be therewith stated with sufficient clearness. Further, as the work of Christ was not yet completed, the view of those contemplating it was, above all, turned to the future. But in virtue of express words of Jesus, and in the consciousness of having received the Spirit of God, one was already certain of the forgiveness of sin dispensed by God, of righteousness before him, of the full knowledge of the Divine will, and of the call to the future Kingdom as a present possession. In the procuring of these blessings not a few perceived with certainty the results of the first advent of Messiah, that is, his work. This work might be seen in the whole activity of Christ. But as the forgiveness of sins might be conceived as _the_ blessing of salvation which included with certainty every other blessing, as Jesus had put his death in express relation with this blessing, and as the fact of this death so mysterious and offensive required a special explanation, there appeared in the foreground from the very beginning the confession, in 1 Cor. XV. 3: [Greek: paredôxa humin en prôtois, ho kai parelabon, hoti christos apethanen huper tôn hamartion hêmon.] "I delivered unto you first of all that which I also received, that _Christ died for our sins_." Not only Paul, for whom, in virtue of his special reflections and experiences, the cross of Christ had become the central point of all knowledge, but also the majority of believers, must have regarded the preaching of the death of the Lord as an essential article in the preaching of Christ[80], seeing that, as a rule, they placed it somehow under the aspect of a sacrifice offered to God. Still, there were very different conceptions of the value of the death as a means of procuring salvation, and there may have been many who were satisfied with basing its necessity on the fact that it had been predicted, ([Greek: apethanen kata tas graphas]: "he died for our sins _according to the scriptures_"), while their real religious interests were entirely centered in the future glory to be procured by Christ. But it must have been of greater significance for the following period that, from the first, a short account of the destiny of Jesus lay at the basis of all preaching about him (see a part of this in 1 Cor. XV. 1-11). Those articles in which the identity of the Christ who had appeared with the Christ who had been promised stood out with special clearness, must have been taken up into this report, as well as those which transcended the common expectations of Messiah, which for that very reason appeared of special importance, viz., his death and resurrection. In putting together this report, there was no intention of describing the "work" of Christ. But after the interest which occasioned it had been obscured, and had given place to other interests, the customary preaching of those articles must have led men to see in them Christ's real performance, his "work."[81] 4. The firm confidence of the disciples in Jesus was rooted in the belief that he did not abide in death, but was raised by God. That Christ had risen was, in virtue of what they had experienced in him, certainly only after they had seen him, just as sure as the fact of his death, and became the main article of their preaching about him.[82] But in the message of the risen Lord was contained not only the conviction that he lives again, and now lives for ever, but also the assurance that his people will rise in like manner and live eternally. Consequently, the resurrection of Jesus became the sure pledge of the resurrection of all believers, that is of their real personal resurrection. No one at the beginning thought of a mere immortality of the spirit, not even those who assumed the perishableness of man's sensuous nature. In conformity with the uncertainty which yet adhered to the idea of resurrection in Jewish hopes and speculations, the concrete notions of it in the Christian communities were also fluctuating. But this could not affect the certainty of the conviction that the Lord would raise his people from death. This conviction, whose reverse side is the fear of that God who casts into hell, has become the mightiest power through which the Gospel has won humanity.[83] 5. After the appearance of Paul, the earliest communities were greatly exercised by the question as to how believers obtain the righteousness which they possess, and what significance a precise observance of the law of the Fathers may have in connection with it. While some would hear of no change in the regulations and conceptions which had hitherto existed, and regarded the bestowal of righteousness by God as possible only on condition of a strict observance of the law, others taught that Jesus as Messiah had procured righteousness for his people, had fulfilled the law once for all, and had founded a new covenant, either in opposition to the old, or as a stage above it. Paul especially saw in the death of Christ the end of the law, and deduced righteousness solely from faith in Christ, and sought to prove from the Old Testament itself, by means of historical speculation, the merely temporary validity of the law and therewith the abrogation of the Old Testament religion. Others, and this view, which is not everywhere to be explained by Alexandrian influences (see above p. 72 f.), is not foreign to Paul, distinguished between spirit and letter in the Mosaic law, giving to everything a spiritual significance, and in this sense holding that the whole law as [Greek: nomos pneumatikos] was binding. The question whether righteousness comes from the works of the law or from faith, was displaced by this conception, and therefore remained in its deepest grounds unsolved, or was decided in the sense of a spiritualised legalism. But the detachment of Christianity from the political forms of the Jewish religion, and from sacrificial worship, was also completed by this conception, although it was regarded as identical with the Old Testament religion rightly understood. The surprising results of the direct mission to the Gentiles would seem to have first called forth those controversies (but see Stephen) and given them the highest significance. The fact that one section of Jewish Christians, and even some of the Apostles, at length recognised the right of the Gentile Christians to be Christians without first becoming Jews, is the clearest proof that what was above all prized was faith in Christ and surrender to him as the saviour. In agreeing to the direct mission to the Gentiles the earliest Christians, while they themselves observed the law, broke up the national religion of Israel, and gave expression to the conviction that Jesus was not only the Messiah of his people, but the redeemer of humanity.[84] The establishment of the universal character of the Gospel, that is, of Christianity as a religion for the world, became now, however, a problem, the solution of which, as given by Paul, but few were able to understand or make their own. 6. In the conviction that salvation is entirely bound up with faith in Jesus Christ, Christendom gained the consciousness of being a new creation of God. But while the sense of being the true Israel was thereby, at the same time, held fast, there followed, on the one hand, entirely new historical perspectives, and on the other, deep problems which demanded solution. As a new creation of God, [Greek: he ekklêsia tou theou], the community was conscious of having been chosen by God in Jesus before the foundation of the world. In the conviction of being the true Israel, it claimed for itself the whole historical development recorded in the Old Testament, convinced that all the divine activity there recorded had the new community in view. The great question which was to find very different answers, was how, in accordance with this view, the Jewish nation, so far as it had not recognised Jesus as Messiah, should be judged. The detachment of Christianity from Judaism was the most important preliminary condition, and therefore the most important preparation, for the Mission among the Gentile nations, and for union with the Greek spirit. _Supplement_ 1.--Renan and others go too far when they say that Paul alone has the glory of freeing Christianity from the fetters of Judaism. Certainly the great Apostle could say in this connection also: [Greek: perissoteron autôn pantôn ekopiasa], but there were others beside him who, in the power of the Gospel, transcended the limits of Judaism. Christian communities, it may now be considered certain, had arisen in the empire, in Rome for example, which were essentially free from the law without being in any way determined by Paul's preaching. It was Paul's merit that he clearly formulated the great question, established the universalism of Christianity in a peculiar manner, and yet in doing so held fast the character of Christianity as a positive religion, as distinguished from Philosophy and Moralism. But the later development presupposes neither his clear formulation nor his peculiar establishment of universalism, but only the universalism itself. _Supplement_ 2.--The dependence of the Pauline Theology on the Old Testament or on Judaism is overlooked in the traditional contrasting of Paulinism and Jewish Christianity, in which Paulinism is made equivalent to Gentile Christianity. This theology, as we might _a priori_ suppose, could, apart from individual exceptions, be intelligible as a whole to born Jews, if to any, for its doctrinal presuppositions were strictly Pharisaic, and its boldness in criticising the Old Testament, rejecting and asserting the law in its historical sense, could be as little congenial to the Gentile Christians as its piety towards the Jewish people. This judgment is confirmed by a glance at the fate of Pauline Theology in the 120 years that followed. Marcion was the only Gentile Christian who understood Paul, and even he misunderstood him: the rest never got beyond the appropriation of particular Pauline sayings, and exhibited no comprehension especially of the theology of the Apostle, so far as in it the universalism of Christianity as a religion is proved, even without recourse to Moralism and without putting a new construction on the Old Testament religion. It follows from this, however, that the scheme "Jewish Christianity"-"Gentile Christianity" is insufficient. We must rather, in the Apostolic age, at least at its close, distinguish four main tendencies that may have crossed each other here and there,[85] (within which again different shades appear). (1) The Gospel has to do with the people of Israel, and with the Gentile world only on the condition that believers attach themselves to the people of Israel. The punctilious observance of the law is still necessary and the condition on which the messianic salvation is bestowed (particularism and legalism, in practice and in principle, which, however, was not to cripple the obligation to prosecute the work of the Mission). (2) The Gospel has to do with Jews and Gentiles: the first, as believers in Christ, are under obligation as before to observe the law, the latter are not; but for that reason they cannot on earth fuse into one community with the believing Jews. Very different judgments in details were possible on this stand-point; but the bestowal of salvation could no longer be thought of as depending simply on the keeping of the ceremonial commandments of the law[86] (universalism in principle, particularism in practice; the prerogative of Israel being to some extent clung to). (3) The Gospel has to do with both Jews and Gentiles; no one is any longer under obligation to observe the law; for the law is abolished (or fulfilled), and the salvation which Christ's death has procured is appropriated by faith. The law (that is the Old Testament religion) in its literal sense is of divine origin, but was intended from the first only for a definite epoch of history. The prerogative of Israel remains, and is shewn in the fact that salvation was first offered to the Jews, and it will be shewn again at the end of all history. That prerogative refers to the nation as a whole, and has nothing to do with the question of the salvation of individuals (Paulinism: universalism in principle and in practice, and Antinomianism in virtue of the recognition of a merely temporary validity of the whole law; breach with the traditional religion of Israel; recognition of the prerogative of the people of Israel; the clinging to the prerogative of the people of Israel was not, however, necessary on this stand-point: see the epistle to the Hebrews and the Gospel of John). (4) The Gospel has to do with Jews and Gentiles: no one need therefore be under obligation to observe the ceremonial commandments and sacrificial worship, because these commandments themselves are only the wrappings of moral and spiritual commandments which the Gospel has set forth as fulfilled in a more perfect form (universalism in principle and in practice in virtue of a neutralising of the distinction between law and Gospel, old and new; spiritualising and universalising of the law).[87] _Supplement_ 3.--The appearance of Paul is the most important fact in the history of the Apostolic age. It is impossible to give in a few sentences an abstract of his theology and work; and the insertion here of a detailed account is forbidden, not only by the external limits, but by the aim of this investigation. For, as already indicated (§ 1), the doctrinal formation in the Gentile Church is not connected with the whole phenomenon of the Pauline theology, but only with certain leading thoughts which were only in part peculiar to the Apostle. His most peculiar thoughts acted on the development of Ecclesiastical doctrine only by way of occasional stimulus. We can find room here only for a few general outlines.[88] (1) The inner conviction that Christ had revealed himself to him, that the Gospel was the message of the crucified and risen Christ, and that God had called him to proclaim that message to the world, was the power and the secret of his personality and his activity. These three elements were a unity in the consciousness of Paul, constituting his conversion and determining his after-life. (2) In this conviction he knew himself to be a new creature, and so vivid was this knowledge that he was constrained to become a Jew to the Jews, and a Greek to the Greeks in order to gain them. (3) The crucified and risen Christ became the central point of his theology, and not only the central point, but the one source and ruling principle. The Christ was not in his estimation Jesus of Nazareth now exalted, but the mighty personal spiritual being in divine form who had for a time humbled himself, and who as Spirit has broken up the world of law, sin, and death, and continues to overcome them in believers. (4) Theology therefore was to him, looking forwards, the doctrine of the liberating power of the Spirit (of Christ) in all the concrete relations of human life and need. The Christ who has already overcome law, sin and death, lives as Spirit, and through his Spirit lives in believers, who for that very reason know him not after the flesh. He is a creative power of life to those who receive him in faith in his redeeming death upon the cross, that is to say, to those who are justified. The life in the Spirit, which results from union with Christ, will at last reveal itself also in the body (not in the flesh). (5) Looking backwards, theology was to Paul a doctrine of the law and of its abrogation; or more accurately, a description of the old system before Christ in the light of the Gospel, and the proof that it was destroyed by Christ. The scriptural proof, even here, is only a superadded support to inner considerations which move entirely within the thought that that which is abrogated has already had its due, by having its whole strength made manifest that it might then be annulled,--the law, the flesh of sin, death: by the law the law is destroyed, sin is abolished in sinful flesh, death is destroyed by death. (6) The historical view which followed from this begins, as regards Christ, with Adam and Abraham; as regards the law, with Moses. It closes, as regards Christ, with the prospect of a time when he shall have put all enemies beneath his feet, when God will be all in all; as regards Moses and the promises given to the Jewish nation, with the prospect of a time when all Israel will be saved. (7) Paul's doctrine of Christ starts from the final confession of the primitive Church, that Christ is with the Father as a heavenly being and as Lord of the living and the dead. Though Paul must have accurately known the proclamation concerning the historical Christ, his theology in the strict sense of the word does not revert to it: but springing over the historical, it begins with the pre-existent Christ (the Man from heaven), whose moral deed it was to assume the flesh in self-denying love, in order to break for all men the powers of nature and the doom of death. But he has pointed to the words and example of the historical Christ in order to rule the life in the Spirit. (8) Deductions, proofs, and perhaps also conceptions, which in point of form betray the theology of the Pharisaic schools, were forced from the Apostle by Christian opponents, who would only grant a place to the message of the crucified Christ beside the [Greek: dikaiosunê ex ergôn]. Both as an exegete and as a typologist he appears as a disciple of the Pharisees. But his dialectic about law, circumcision and sacrifice, does not form the kernel of his religious mode of thought, though, on the other hand, it was unquestionably his very Pharisaism which qualified him for becoming what he was. Pharisaism embraced nearly everything lofty which Judaism apart from Christ at all possessed, and its doctrine of providence, its energetic insistence on making manifest the religious contrasts, its Messianic expectations, its doctrines of sin and predestination, were conditions for the genesis of a religious and Christian character such as Paul.[89] This first Christian of the second generation is the highest product of the Jewish spirit under the creative power of the Spirit of Christ. Pharisaism had fulfilled its mission for the world when it produced this man. (9) But Hellenism also had a share in the making of Paul, a fact which does not conflict with his Pharisaic origin, but is partly given with it. In spite of all its exclusiveness the desire for making proselytes, especially in the Diaspora, was in the blood of Pharisaism. Paul continued the old movement in a new way, and he was qualified for his work among the Greeks by an accurate knowledge of the Greek translation of the Old Testament, by considerable dexterity in the use of the Greek language, and by a growing insight into the spiritual life of the Greeks. But the peculiarity of his Gospel as a message from the Spirit of Christ, which was equally near to and equally distant from every religious and moral mode of thought among the nations of the world, signified much more than all this. This Gospel--who can say whether Hellenism had already a share in its conception--required that the missionary to the Greeks should become a Greek and that believers should come to know, "all things are yours, and ye are Christ's." Paul, as no doubt other missionaries besides him, connected the preaching of Christ with the Greek mode of thought; he even employed philosophic doctrines of the Greeks as presuppositions in his apologetic,[90] and therewith prepared the way for the introduction of the Gospel to the Græco-Roman world of thought. But, in my opinion, he has nowhere allowed that world of thought to influence his doctrine of salvation. This doctrine, however, was so fashioned in its practical aims that it was not necessary to become a Jew in order to appropriate it. (10) Yet we cannot speak of any total effect of Paulinism, as there was no such thing. The abundance of its details was too great and the greatness of its simplicity too powerful, its hope of the future too vivid, its doctrine of the law too difficult, its summons to a new life in the spirit too mighty to be comprehended and adhered to even by those communities which Paul himself had founded. What they did comprehend was its Monotheism, its universalism, its redemption, its eternal life, its asceticism; but all this was otherwise combined than by Paul. The style became Hellenic, and the element of a new kind of knowledge from the very first, as in the Church of Corinth, seems to have been the ruling one. The Pauline doctrine of the incarnate heavenly Man was indeed apprehended; it fell in with Greek notions, although it meant something very different from the notions which Greeks had been able to form of it. _Supplement_ 4.--What we justly prize above all else in the New Testament is that it is a union of the three groups, Synoptic Gospels, Pauline Epistles,[91] and Johannine writings, in which are expressed the richest contents of the earliest history of the Gospel. In the Synoptic Gospels and the epistles of Paul are represented two types of preaching the Gospel which mutually supplement each other. The subsequent history is dependent on both, and would have been other than it is had not both existed alongside of each other. On the other hand, the peculiar and lofty conception of Christ and of the Gospel, which stands out in the writings of John, has directly exercised no demonstrable influence on the succeeding development--with the exception of one peculiar movement, the Montanistic, which, however, does not rest on a true understanding of these writings--and indeed partly for the same reason that has prevented the Pauline theology as a whole from having such an influence. What is given in these writings is a criticism of the Old Testament as religion, or the independence of the Christian religion, in virtue of an accurate knowledge of the Old Testament through development of its hidden germs. The Old Testament stage of religion is really transcended and overcome in the Johannine Christianity, just as in Paulinism, and in the theology of the epistle to the Hebrews. "The circle of disciples who appropriated this characterisation of Jesus is," says Weizsäcker, "a revived Christ-party in the higher sense." But this transcending of the Old Testament religion was the very thing that was unintelligible, because there were few ripe for such a conception. Moreover, the origin of the Johannine writings is, from the stand-point of a history of literature and dogma, the most marvellous enigma which the early history of Christianity presents: Here we have portrayed a Christ who clothes the indescribable with words, and proclaims as his own self-testimony what his disciples have experienced in him, a speaking, acting, Pauline Christ, walking on the earth, far more human than the Christ of Paul and yet far more Divine, an abundance of allusions to the historical Jesus, and at the same time the most sovereign treatment of the history. One divines that the Gospel can find no loftier expression than John XVII.: one feels that Christ himself put these words into the mouth of the disciple, who gives them back to him, but word and thing, history and doctrine are surrounded by a bright cloud of the suprahistorical. It is easy to shew that this Gospel could as little have been written without Hellenism, as Luther's treatise on the freedom of a Christian man could have been written without the "Deutsche Theologie." But the reference to Philo and Hellenism is by no means sufficient here, as it does not satisfactorily explain even one of the external aspects of the problem. The elements operative in the Johannine theology were not Greek Theologoumena--even the Logos has little more in common with that of Philo than the name, and its mention at the beginning of the book is a mystery, not the solution of one[92]--but the Apostolic testimony concerning Christ has created from the old faith of Psalmists and Prophets, a new faith in a man who lived with the disciples of Jesus among the Greeks. For that very reason, in spite of his abrupt Anti-judaism, we must without doubt regard the Author as a born Jew. _Supplement_ 5.--The authorities to which the Christian communities were subjected in faith and life, were these: (1) The Old Testament interpreted in the Christian sense. (2) The tradition of the Messianic history of Jesus. (3) The words of the Lord: see the epistles of Paul, especially 1 Corinthians. But every writing which was proved to have been given by the Spirit had also to be regarded as an authority, and every tested Christian Prophet and Teacher inspired by the Spirit could claim that his words be received and regarded as the words of God. Moreover, the twelve whom Jesus had chosen had a special authority, and Paul claimed a similar authority for himself ([Greek: diataxeis tôn apostolôn]). Consequently, there were numerous courts of appeal in the earliest period of Christendom, of diverse kinds and by no means strictly defined. In the manifold gifts of the spirit was given a fluid element indefinable in its range and scope, an element which guaranteed freedom of development, but which also threatened to lead the enthusiastic communities to extravagance. _Literature._--Weiss, Biblical Theology of the New Testament, 1884. Beyschlag, New Testament Theology, 1892. Ritschl, Entstehung der Alt-Katholischen Kirche, 2 Edit. 1857. Reuss, History of Christian Theology in the Apostolic Age, 1864. Baur, The Apostle Paul, 1866. Holsten, Zum Evangelium des Paulus und Petrus, 1868. Pfleiderer, Paulinism, 1873: also, Das Urchristenthum, 1887. Schenkel, Das Christusbild der Apostel, 1879. Renan, Origins of Christianity Vols. II.-IV. Havet, Le Christianisme et ses orig. T, IV. 1884. Lechler, The Apostolic and Post-Apostolic Age, 1885. Weizsäcker, The Apostolic Age, 1892. Hatch, Article "Paul" in the Encyclopædia Britannica. Everett, The Gospel of Paul. Boston, 1893. On the origin and earliest history of the Christian proofs from prophecy, see my "Texte und Unters. z. Gesch. der Alt-Christl." Lit. I. 3, p. 56 f. § 4. _The Current Exposition of the Old Testament, and the Jewish hopes of the future, in their significance for the earliest types of Christian preaching._ Instead of the frequently very fruitless investigations about "Jewish-Christian," and "Gentile-Christian," it should be asked, What Jewish elements have been naturalised in the Christian Church, which were in no way demanded by the contents of the Gospel? have these elements been simply weakened in course of the development, or have some of them been strengthened by a peculiar combination with the Greek? We have to do here, in the first instance, with the doctrine of Demons and Angels, the view of history, the growing exclusiveness, the fanaticism; and on the other hand, with the cultus, and the Theocracy, expressing itself in forms of law. 1. Although Jesus had in principle abolished the methods of pedantry, the casuistic treatment of the law, and the subtleties of prophetic interpretation, yet the old Scholastic exegesis remained active in the Christian communities above all the unhistorical local method in the exposition of the Old Testament, both allegoristic and Haggadic; for in the exposition of a sacred text--and the Old Testament was regarded as such--one is always required to look away from its historical limitations and to expound it according to the needs of the present.[93] The traditional view exercised its influence on the exposition of the Old Testament, as well as on the representations of the person, fate and deeds of Jesus, especially in those cases where the question was about the proof of the fulfilment of prophecy, that is, of the Messiahship of Jesus. (See above § 3, 2). Under the impression made by the history of Jesus it gave to many Old Testament passages a sense that was foreign to them, and, on the other hand, enriched the life of Jesus with new facts, turning the interest at the same time to details which were frequently unreal and seldom of striking importance.[94] 2. The Jewish Apocalyptic literature, especially as it flourished since the time of Antiochus Epiphanes, and was impregnated with new elements borrowed from an ethico-religious philosophy, as well as with Babylonian and Persian myths (Greek myths can only be detected in very small number), was not banished from the circles of the first professors of the Gospel, but was rather held fast, eagerly read, and even extended with the view of elucidating the promises of Jesus.[95] Though their contents seem to have been modified on Christian soil, and especially the uncertainty about the person of the Messiah exalted to victory and coming to judgment,[96] yet the sensuous earthly hopes were in no way repressed. Green fat meadows and sulphurous abysses, white horses and frightful beasts, trees of life, splendid cities, war and bloodshed filled the fancy,[97] and threatened to obscure the simple and yet, at bottom, much more affecting maxims about the judgment which is certain to every individual soul, and drew the confessors of the Gospel into a restless activity, into politics, and abhorrence of the State. It was an evil inheritance which the Christians took over from the Jews,[98] an inheritance which makes it impossible to reproduce with certainty the eschatological sayings of Jesus. Things directly foreign were mixed up with them, and, what was most serious, delineations of the hopes of the future could easily lead to the undervaluing of the most important gifts and duties of the Gospel.[99] 3. A wealth of mythologies and poetic ideas was naturalised and legitimised[100] in the Christian communities, chiefly by the reception of the Apocalyptic literature, but also by the reception of artificial exegesis and Haggada. Most important for the following period were the speculations about Messiah, which were partly borrowed from expositions of the Old Testament and from the Apocalypses, partly formed independently, according to methods the justice of which no one contested, and the application of which seemed to give a firm basis to religious faith. Some of the Jewish Apocalyptists had already attributed pre-existence to the expected Messiah, as to other precious things in the Old Testament history and worship, and, without any thought of denying his human nature, placed him as already existing before his appearing in a series of angelic beings.[101] This took place in accordance with an established method of speculation, so far as an attempt was made thereby to express the special value of an empiric object, by distinguishing between the essence and the inadequate form of appearance, hypostatising the essence, and exalting it above time and space. But when a later appearance was conceived as the aim of a series of preparations, it was frequently hypostatised and placed above these preparations even in time. The supposed aim was, in a kind of real existence, placed, as first cause, before the means which were destined to realise it on earth.[102] Some of the first confessors of the Gospel, though not all the writers of the New Testament, in accordance with the same method, went beyond the declarations which Jesus himself had made about his person, and endeavoured to conceive its value and absolute significance abstractly and speculatively. The religious convictions (see § 3. 2): (1) That the founding of the Kingdom of God on earth, and the mission of Jesus as the perfect mediator, were from eternity based on God's plan of Salvation, as his main purpose; (2) that the exalted Christ was called into a position of Godlike Sovereignty belonging to him of right; (3) that God himself was manifested in Jesus, and that he therefore surpasses all mediators of the Old Testament, nay, even all angelic powers,--these convictions with some took the form that Jesus pre-existed, and that in him has appeared and taken flesh a heavenly being fashioned like God, who is older than the world, nay, its creative principle.[103] The conceptions of the old Teachers, Paul, the author of the Epistle to the Hebrews, the Apocalypse, the author of the first Epistle of Peter, the fourth Evangelist, differ in many ways when they attempt to define these convictions more closely. The latter is the only one who has recognised with perfect clearness that the premundane Christ must be assumed to be [Greek: theos hôn en archê pros ton theon], so as not to endanger by this speculation the contents and significance of the revelation of God which was given in Christ. This, in the earliest period, was essentially a religious problem, that is, it was not introduced for the explanation of cosmological problems, (see, especially, Epistle to the Ephesians, I Peter; but also the Gospel of John), and there stood peacefully beside it, such conceptions as recognised the equipment of the man Jesus for his office in a communication of the Spirit at his baptism,[104] or in virtue of Isaiah VII., found the germ of his unique nature in his miraculous origin.[105] But as soon as that speculation was detached from its original foundation, it necessarily withdrew the minds of believers from the consideration of the work of Christ, and from the contemplation of the revelation of God which was given in the ministry of the historical person Jesus. The mystery of the person of Jesus in itself, would then necessarily appear as the true revelation.[106] A series of theologoumena and religious problems for the future doctrine of Christianity lay ready in the teaching of the Pharisees and in the Apocalypses (see especially the fourth book of Ezra), and was really fitted for being of service to it; e.g., doctrines about Adam, universal sinfulness, the fall, predestination, Theodicy, etc., besides all kinds of ideas about redemption. Besides these spiritual doctrines there were not a few spiritualised myths which were variously made use of in the Apocalypses. A rich, spiritual, figurative style, only too rich and therefore confused, waited for the theological artist to purify, reduce and vigorously fashion. There really remained very little of the Cosmico-Mythological in the doctrine of the great Church. _Supplement._--The reference to the proof from prophecy, to the current exposition of the Old Testament, the Apocalyptic and the prevailing methods of speculation, does not suffice to explain all the elements which are found in the different types of Christian preaching. We must rather bear in mind here that the earliest communities were enthusiastic, and had yet among them prophets and ecstatic persons. Such circumstances will always directly produce facts in the history. But, in the majority of cases, it is absolutely impossible to account subsequently for the causes of such productions, because their formation is subject to no law accessible to the understanding. It is therefore inadmissible to regard as proved the reality of what is recorded and believed to be a fact, when the motive and interest which led to its acceptance can no longer be ascertained.[107] Moreover, if we consider the conditions, outer and inner, in which the preaching of Christ in the first decades was placed, conditions which in every way threatened the Gospel with extravagance, we shall only see cause to wonder that it continued to shine forth amid all its wrappings. We can still, out of the strangest "fulfilments", legends and mythological ideas, read the religious conviction that the aim and goal of history is disclosed in the history of Christ, and that the Divine has now entered into history in a pure form. _Literature._--The Apocalypses of Daniel, Enoch, Moses, Baruch, Ezra; Schürer, History of the Jewish People in the time of Christ; Baldensperger, in the work already mentioned. Weber, System der Altsynagogalen palästinischen Theologie, 1880, Kuenen, Hibbert Lectures, 1883. Hilgenfeld, Die jüdische Apokalyptik, 1857. Wellhausen, Sketch of the History of Israel and Judah, 1887. Diestel, Gesch. des A. T. in der Christl. Kirche, 1869. Other literature in Schürer. The essay of Hellwag in the Theol. Jahrb. von Baur and Zeller, 1848, "Die Vorstellung von der Präexistenz Christi in der ältesten Kirche", is worth noting; also Joël, Blicke in die Religionsgeschichte zu Anfang des 2 Christl. Jahrhunderts, 1880-1883. § 5. _The Religious Conceptions and the Religious Philosophy of the Hellenistic Jews, in their significance for the later formulation of the Gospel_. 1. From the remains of the Jewish Alexandrian literature and the Jewish Sibylline writings, also from the work of Josephus, and especially from the great propaganda of Judaism in the Græco-Roman world, we may gather that there was a Judaism in the Diaspora, for the consciousness of which the cultus and ceremonial law were of comparatively subordinate importance; while the monotheistic worship of God, apart from images, the doctrines of virtue and belief in a future reward beyond the grave, stood in the foreground as its really essential marks. Converted Gentiles were no longer everywhere required to be even circumcised; the bath of purification was deemed sufficient. The Jewish religion here appears transformed into a universal human ethic and a monotheistic cosmology. For that reason, the idea of the Theocracy as well as the Messianic hopes of the future faded away or were uprooted. The latter, indeed, did not altogether pass away; but as the oracles of the Prophets were made use of mainly for the purpose of proving the antiquity and certainty of monotheistic belief, the thought of the future was essentially exhausted in the expectation of the dissolution of the Roman empire, the burning of the world, and the eternal recompense. The specific Jewish element, however, stood out plainly in the assertion that the Old Testament, and especially the books of Moses, were the source of all true knowledge of God, and the sum total of all doctrines of virtue for the nations, as well as in the connected assertion that the religious and moral culture of the Greeks was derived from the Old Testament, as the source from which the Greek Poets and Philosophers had drawn their inspiration.[108] These Jews and the Greeks converted by them formed, as it were, a Judaism of a second order without law, i.e., ceremonial law, and with a minimum of statutory regulations. This Judaism prepared the soil for the Christianising of the Greeks, as well as for the genesis of a great Gentile Church in the empire, free from the law; and this the more that, as it seems, after the second destruction of Jerusalem, the punctilious observance of the law[109] was imposed more strictly than before on all who worshipped the God of the Jews.[110] The Judaism just portrayed, developed itself, under the influence of the Greek culture with which it came in contact, into a kind of Cosmopolitanism. It divested itself, as religion, of all national forms, and exhibited itself as the most perfect expression of that "natural" religion which the stoics had disclosed. But in proportion as it was enlarged and spiritualised to a universal religion for humanity, it abandoned what was most peculiar to it, and could not compensate for that loss by the assertion of the thesis that the Old Testament is the oldest and most reliable source of that natural religion, which in the traditions of the Greeks had only witnesses of the second rank. The vigour and immediateness of the religious feeling was flattened down to a moralism, the barrenness of which drove some Jews even into Gnosis, mysticism and asceticism.[111] 2. The Jewish Alexandrian philosophy of religion, of which Philo gives us the clearest conception,[112] is the scientific theory which corresponded to this religious conception. The theological system which Philo, in accordance with the example of others, gave out as the Mosaic system revealed by God, and proved from the Old Testament by means of the allegoric exegetic method, is essentially identical with the system of Stoicism, which had been mixed with Platonic elements and had lost its Pantheistic materialistic impress. The fundamental idea from which Philo starts is a Platonic one; the dualism of God and the world, spirit and matter. The idea of God itself is therefore abstractly and negatively conceived (God, the real substance which is not finite), and has nothing more in common with the Old Testament conception. The possibility, however, of being able to represent God as acting on matter, which as the finite is the non-existent, and therefore the evil, is reached, with the help of the Stoic [Greek: logos] as working powers and of the Platonic doctrine of archetypal ideas, and in outward connection with the Jewish doctrine of angels and the Greek doctrine of demons, by the introduction of intermediate spiritual beings which, as personal and impersonal powers proceeding from God, are to be thought of as operative causes and as Archetypes. All these beings are, as it were, comprehended in the Logos. By the Logos Philo understands the operative reason of God, and consequently also the power of God. The Logos is to him the thought of God and at the same time the product of his thought, therefore both idea and power. But further, the Logos is God himself on that side of him which is turned to the world, as also the ideal of the world and the unity of the spiritual forces which produce the world and rule in it. He can therefore be put beside God and in opposition to the world; but he can also, so far as the spiritual contents of the world are comprehended in him, be put with the world in contrast with God. The Logos accordingly appears as the Son of God, the foremost creature, the representative, Viceroy, High Priest, and Messenger of God; and again as principle of the world, spirit of the world, nay, as the world itself. He appears as a power and as a person, as a function of God and as an active divine being. Had Philo cancelled the contradiction which lies in this whole conception of the Logos, his system would have been demolished; for that system with its hard antithesis of God and the world, needed a mediator who was, and yet was not God, as well as world. From this contrast, however, it further followed that we can only think of a world-formation by the Logos, not of a world-creation.[113] Within this world man is regarded as a microcosm, that is, as a being of Divine nature according to his spirit, who belongs to the heavenly world, while the adhering body is a prison which holds men captive in the fetters of sense, that is, of sin. The Stoic and Platonic ideals and rules of conduct (also the Neo-pythagorean) were united by Philo in the religious Ethic as well as in the Cosmology. Rationalistic moralism is surmounted by the injunction to strive after a higher good lying above virtue. But here, at the same time, is the point at which Philo decidedly goes beyond Platonism, and introduces a new thought into Greek Ethics, and also in correspondence therewith into theoretic philosophy. This thought, which indeed lay altogether in the line of the development of Greek philosophy, was not, however, pursued by Philo into all its consequences, though it was the expression of a new frame of mind. While the highest good is resolved by Plato and his successors into knowledge of truth, which truth, together with the idea of God, lies in a sphere really accessible to the intellectual powers of the human spirit, the highest good, the Divine original being, is considered by Philo, though not invariably, to be above reason, and the power of comprehending it is denied to the human intellect. This assumption, a concession which Greek speculation was compelled to make to positive religion for the supremacy which was yielded to it, was to have far-reaching consequences in the future. _A place was now for the first time provided in philosophy for a mythology to be regarded as revelation._ The highest truths which could not otherwise be reached, might be sought for in the oracles of the Deity; for knowledge resting on itself had learnt by experience its inability to attain to the truth in which blessedness consists. _In this very experience the intellectualism of Greek Ethics was, not indeed cancelled, but surmounted._ The injunction to free oneself from sense and strive upwards by means of knowledge, remained; but the wings of the thinking mind bore it only to the entrance of the sanctuary. Only ecstasy produced by God himself was able to lead to the reality above reason. The great novelties in the system of Philo, though in a certain sense the way had already been prepared for them, are the introduction of the idea of a philosophy of revelation and the advance beyond the absolute intellectualism of Greek philosophy, an advance based on scepticism, but also on the deep-felt needs of life. Only the germs of these are found in Philo, but they are already operative. They are innovations of world-wide importance: for in them the covenant between the thoughts of reason on the one hand, and the belief in revelation and mysticism on the other, is already so completed that neither by itself could permanently maintain the supremacy. Thought about the world was henceforth dependent, not only on practical motives, it is always that, but on the need of a blessedness and peace which is higher than all reason. It might, perhaps, be allowable to say that Philo was the first who, as a philosopher, plainly expressed that need, just because he was not only a Greek, but also a Jew.[114] Apart from the extremes into which the ethical counsels of Philo run, they contain nothing that had not been demanded by philosophers before him. The purifying of the affections, the renunciation of sensuality, the acquisition of the four cardinal virtues, the greatest possible simplicity of life, as well as a cosmopolitan disposition are enjoined.[115] But the attainment of the highest morality by our own strength is despaired of, and man is directed beyond himself to God's assistance. Redemption begins with the spirit reflecting on its own condition; it advances by a knowledge of the world and of the Logos, and it is perfected, after complete asceticism, by mystic ecstatic contemplation in which a man loses himself, but in return is entirely filled and moved by God.[116] In this condition man has a foretaste of the blessedness which shall be given him when the soul, freed from the body, will be restored to its true existence as a heavenly being. This system, notwithstanding its appeal to revelation, has, in the strict sense of the word, no place for Messianic hopes, of which nothing but very insignificant rudiments are found in Philo. But he was really animated by the hope of a glorious time to come for Judaism. The synthesis of the Messiah and the Logos did not lie within his horizon.[117] 3. Neither Philo's philosophy of religion, nor the mode of thought from which it springs, exercised any appreciable influence on the first generation of believers in Christ.[118] But its practical ground-thoughts, though in different degrees, must have found admission very early into the Jewish Christian circles of the Diaspora, and through them to Gentile Christian circles also. Philo's philosophy of religion became operative among Christian teachers from the beginning of the second century,[119] and at a later period actually obtained the significance of a standard of Christian theology, Philo gaining a place among Christian writers. The systems of Valentinus and Origen presuppose that of Philo. It can no longer, however, be shewn with certainty how far the direct influence of Philo reached, as the development of religious ideas in the second century took a direction which necessarily led to views similar to those which Philo had anticipated (see § 6, and the whole following account). _Supplement._--The hermeneutic principles (the "Biblicalalchemy"), above all, became of the utmost importance for the following period. These were partly invented by Philo himself, partly traditional,--the Haggadic rules of exposition and the hermeneutic principles of the Stoics having already at an earlier period been united in Alexandria. They fall into two main classes; "first, those according to which the literal sense is excluded, and the allegoric proved to be the only possible one, and then, those according to which the allegoric sense is discovered as standing beside and above the literal sense."[120] That these rules permitted the discovery of a new sense by minute changes within a word, was a point of special importance.[121] Christian teachers went still further in this direction, and, as can be proved, altered the text of the Septuagint in order to make more definite what suggested itself to them as the meaning of a passage, or in order to give a satisfactory meaning to a sentence which appeared to them unmeaning or offensive.[122] Nay, attempts were not wanting among Christians in the second century--they were aided by the uncertainty that existed about the extent of the Septuagint, and by the want of plain predictions about the death upon the cross--to determine the Old Testament canon in accordance with new principles; that is, to alter the text on the plea that the Jews had corrupted it, and to insert new books into the Old Testament, above all, Jewish Apocalypses revised in a Christian sense. Tertullian (de cultu fem. I. 3,) furnishes a good example of the latter. "Scio scipturam Enoch, quæ hunc ordinem angelis dedit, non recipi a quibusdam, quia nee in armorium Judaicum admittitur ... sed cum Enoch eadem scriptura etiam de domino prædicarit, a nobis quidem nihil omnino reiciendum est quod pertinet ad nos. Et legimus omnem scripturam ædificationi habilem divinitus inspirari. A Judæis potest jam videri propterea reiecta, sicut et cetera fere quæ Christum sonant.... Eo accedit quod Enoch apud Judam apostolum testimonium possidet." Compare also the history of the Apocalypse of Ezra in the Latin Bible (Old Testament). Not only the genuine Greek portions of the Septuagint, but also many Apocalypses were quoted by Christians in the second century as of equal value with the Old Testament. It was the New Testament that slowly put an end to these tendencies towards the formation of a Christian Old Testament. To find the spiritual meaning of the sacred text, partly beside the literal, partly by excluding it, became the watchword for the "scientific" Christian theology which was possible only on this basis, as it endeavoured to reduce the immense and dissimilar material of the Old Testament to unity with the Gospel, and both with the religious and scientific culture of the Greeks,--yet without knowing a relative standard, the application of which would alone have rendered possible in a loyal way the solution of the task. Here, Philo was the master; for he first to a great extent poured the new wine into old bottles. Such a procedure is warranted by its final purpose; for history is a unity. But applied in a pedantic and stringently dogmatic way it is a source of deception, of untruthfulness, and finally of total blindness. _Literature._--Gefrörer, Das Jahr des Heils, 1838. Parthey, Das Alexandr. Museum, 1838. Matter, Hist. de l'école d'Alex. 1840. Dähne, Gesch. Darstellung der jüd.-alex. Religions-philos. 1834. Zeller, Die Philosophie der Griechen, III. 2. 3rd Edition. Mommsen, History of Rome, Vol. V. Siegfried, Philo von Alex. 1875. Massebieau, Le Classement des Oeuvres de Philon. 1889. Hatch, Essays in Biblical Greek, 1889. Drummond, Philo Judæus, 1888. Bigg, The Christian Platonists of Alexandria, 1886. Schürer, History of the Jewish People. The investigations of Freudenthal (Hellenistische Studien), and Bernays (Ueber das phokylideische Gedicht; Theophrastos' Schrift über Frömmigkeit; Die heraklitischen Briefe). Kuenen, Hibbert Lectures: "Christian Theology could have made and has made much use of Hellenism. But the Christian religion cannot have sprung from this source." Havet thinks otherwise, though in the fourth volume of his "Origines" he has made unexpected admissions. § 6. _The Religious Dispositions of the Greeks and Romans in the first two centuries, and the current Græco-Roman Philosophy of Religion._ 1. After the national religion and the religious sense generally in cultured circles had been all but lost in the age of Cicero and Augustus, there is noticeable in the Græco-Roman world from the beginning of the second century a revival of religious feeling which embraced all classes of society, and appears, especially from the middle of that century, to have increased from decennium to decennium.[123] Parallel with it went the not altogether unsuccessful attempt to restore the old national worship, religious usages, oracles, etc. In these attempts, however, which were partly superficial and artificial, the new religious needs found neither vigorous nor clear expression. These needs rather sought new forms of satisfaction corresponding to the wholly changed conditions of the time, including intercourse and mixing of the nations; decay of the old republican orders, divisions and ranks; monarchy and absolutism and social crises; pauperism; influence of philosophy on the domain of public morality and law; cosmopolitanism and the rights of man; influx of Oriental cults into the West; knowledge of the world and disgust with it. The decay of the old political cults and syncretism produced a disposition in favour of monotheism both among the cultured classes who had been prepared for it by philosophy, and also gradually among the masses. Religion and individual morality became more closely connected. There was developed a corresponding attempt at spiritualising the worship alongside of and within the ceremonial forms, and at giving it a direction towards the moral elevation of man through the ideas of moral personality, conscience, and purity. The ideas of repentance and of expiation and healing of the soul became of special importance, and consequently such Oriental cults came to the front as required the former and guaranteed the latter. But what was sought above all, was to enter into an inner union with the Deity, to be saved by him and become a partaker in the possession and enjoyment of his life. The worshipper consequently longed to find a "præsens numen" and the revelation of him in the cultus, and hoped to put himself in possession of the Deity by asceticism and mysterious rites. This new piety longed for health and purity of soul, and elevation above earthly things, and in connection with these a divine, that is, a painless and eternal life beyond the grave ("renatus in æternum taurobolio"). A world beyond was desired, sought for and viewed with an uncertain eye. By detachment from earthly things and the healing of its diseases (the passions) the freed, new born soul should return to its divine nature and existence. It is not a hope of immortality such as the ancients had dreamed of for their heroes, where they continue, as it were, their earthly existence in blessed enjoyment. To the more highly pitched self-consciousness this life had become a burden, and in the miseries of the present, one hoped for a future life in which the pain and vulgarity of the unreal life of earth would be completely laid aside ([Greek: Enkrateia] and [Greek: anastasis]). If the new moralistic feature stood out still more emphatically in the piety of the second century, it vanished more and more behind the religious feature, the longing after life[124] and after a Redeemer God. No one could any longer be a God who was not also a saviour.[125] With all this Polytheism was not suppressed, but only put into a subordinate place. On the contrary, it was as lively and active as ever. For the idea of a _numen supremum_ did not exclude belief in the existence and manifestation of subordinate deities. Apotheosis came into currency. The old state religion first attained its highest and most powerful expression in the worship of the emperor, (the emperor glorified as "dominus ac deus noster",[126] as "præsens et corporalis deus", the Antinous cult, etc.)., and in many circles an incarnate ideal in the present or the past was sought, which might be worshipped as revealer of God and as God, and which might be an example of life and an assurance of religious hope. Apotheosis became less offensive in proportion as, in connection with the fuller recognition of the spiritual dignity of man, the estimate of the soul, the spirit, as of supramundane nature, and the hope of its eternal continuance in a form of existence befitting it, became more general. That was the import of the message preached by the Cynics and the Stoics, that the truly wise man is Lord, Messenger of God, and God upon the earth. On the other hand, the popular belief clung to the idea that the gods could appear and be visible in human form, and this faith, though mocked by the cultured, gained numerous adherents, even among them, in the age of the Antonines.[127] The new thing which was here developed, continued to be greatly obscured by the old forms of worship which reasons of state and pious custom maintained. And the new piety, dispensing with a fixed foundation, groped uncertainly around, adapting the old rather than rejecting it. The old religious practices of the Fathers asserted themselves in public life generally, and the reception of new cults by the state, which was certainly effected, though with many checks, did not disturb them. The old religious customs stood out especially on state holidays, in the games in honour of the Gods, frequently degenerating into shameless immorality, but yet protecting the institutions of the state. The patriot, the wise man, the sceptic, and the pious man compounded with them, for they had not really at bottom outgrown them, and they knew of nothing better to substitute for the services they still rendered to society (see the [Greek: logos alêthês] of Celsus). 2. The system of associations, naturalised centuries before among the Greeks, was developed under the social and political pressure of the empire, and was greatly extended by the change of moral and religious ideas. The free unions, which, as a rule, had a religious element and were established for mutual help, support, or edification, balanced to some extent the prevailing social cleavage, by a free democratic organisation. They gave to many individuals in their small circle the rights which they did not possess in the great world, and were frequently of service in obtaining admission for new cults. Even the new piety and cosmopolitan disposition seem to have turned to them in order to find within them forms of expression. But the time had not come for the greater corporate unions, and of an organised connection of societies in one city with those of another we know nothing. The state kept these associations under strict control. It granted them only to the poorest classes (_collegia tenuiorum_) and had the strictest laws in readiness for them. These free unions, however, did not in their historical importance approach the fabric of the Roman state in which they stood. That represented the union of the greater part of humanity under one head, and also more and more under one law. Its capital was the capital of the world, and also, from the beginning of the third century, of religious syncretism. Hither migrated all who desired to exercise an influence on the great scale: Jew, Chaldean, Syrian priest, and Neoplatonic teacher. Law and Justice radiated from Rome to the provinces, and in their light nationalities faded away, and a cosmopolitanism was developed which pointed beyond itself, because the moral spirit can never find its satisfaction in that which is realised. When that spirit finally turned away from all political life, and after having laboured for the ennobling of the empire, applied itself, in Neoplatonism, to the idea of a new and free union of men, this certainly was the result of the felt failure of the great creation, but it nevertheless had that creation for its presupposition. The Church appropriated piecemeal the great apparatus of the Roman state, and gave new powers, new significance and respect to every article that had been depreciated. But what is of greatest importance is that the Church by her preaching would never have gained whole circles, but only individuals, had not the universal state already produced a neutralising of nationalities and brought men nearer each other in temper and disposition. 3. Perhaps the most decisive factor in bringing about the revolution of religious and moral convictions and moods, was philosophy, which in almost all its schools and representatives, had deepened ethics, and set it more and more in the foreground. After Possidonius, Seneca, Epictetus, and Marcus Aurelius of the Stoical school, and men like Plutarch of the Platonic, attained to an ethical view, which, though not very clear in principle (knowledge, resignation, trust in God), is hardly capable of improvement in details. Common to them all, as distinguished from the early Stoics, is the value put upon the soul, (not the entire human nature), while in some of them there comes clearly to the front a religious mood, a longing for divine help, for redemption and a blessed life beyond the grave, the effort to obtain and communicate a religious philosophical therapeutic of the soul. From the beginning of the second century, however, already announced itself that eclectic philosophy based on Platonism which after two or three generations appeared in the form of a school, and after three generations more was to triumph over all other schools. The several elements of the Neoplatonic philosophy, as they were already foreshadowed in Philo, are clearly seen in the second century, viz., the dualistic opposition of the divine and the earthly, the abstract conception of God, the assertion of the unknowableness of God, scepticism with regard to sensuous experience, and distrust with regard to the powers of the understanding, with a greater readiness to examine things and turn to account the result of former scientific labour; further, the demand of emancipation from sensuality by means of asceticism, the need of authority, belief in a higher revelation, and the fusion of science and religion. The legitimising of religious fancy in the province of philosophy was already begun. The myth was no longer merely tolerated and re-interpreted as formerly, but precisely the mythic form with the meaning imported into it was the precious element.[128] There were, however, in the second century numerous representatives of every possible philosophic view. To pass over the frivolous writers of the day, the Cynics criticised the traditional mythology in the interests of morality and religion.[129] But there were also men who opposed the "ne quid nimis" to every form of practical scepticism, and to religion at the same time, and were above all intent on preserving the state and society, and on fostering the existing arrangements which appeared to be threatened far more by an intrusive religious than by a nihilistic philosophy.[130] Yet men whose interest was ultimately practical and political, became ever more rare, especially as from the death of Marcus Aurelius, the maintenance of the state had to be left more and more to the sword of the Generals. The general conditions from the end of the second century were favourable to a philosophy which no longer in any respect took into real consideration the old forms of the state. The theosophic philosophy which was prepared for in the second century,[131] was, from the stand-point of enlightenment and knowledge of nature, a relapse: but it was the expression of a deeper religious need, and of a self-knowledge such as had not been in existence at an earlier period. The final consequences of that revolution in philosophy which made consideration of the inner life the starting-point of thought about the world, only now began to be developed. The ideas of a divine, gracious providence, of the relationship of all men, of universal brotherly love, of a ready forgiveness of wrong, of forbearing patience, of insight into one's own weakness--affected no doubt with many shadows--became, for wide circles, a result of the practical philosophy of the Greeks as well as, the conviction of inherent sinfulness, the need of redemption, and the eternal value and dignity of a human soul which finds rest only in God. These ideas, convictions and rules, had been picked up in the long journey from Socrates to Ammonius Saccas: at first, and for long afterwards, they crippled the interest in a rational knowledge of the world; but they deepened and enriched the inner life, and therewith the source of all knowledge. Those ideas, however, lacked as yet the certain coherence, but, above all, the authority which could have raised them above the region of wishes, presentiments, and strivings, and have given them normative authority in a community of men. There was no sure revelation, and no view of history which could be put in the place of the no longer prized political history of the nation or state to which one belonged.[132] There was, in fact, no such thing as certainty. In like manner, there was no power which might overturn idolatry and abolish the old, and therefore one did not get beyond the wavering between self-deification, fear of God, and deification of nature. The glory is all the greater of those statesmen and jurists who, in the second and third centuries, introduced human ideas of the Stoics into the legal arrangements of the empire, and raised them to standards. And we must value all the more the numerous undertakings and performances, in which it appeared that the new view of life was powerful enough in individuals to beget a corresponding practice even without a sure belief in revelation.[133] _Supplement._--For the correct understanding of the beginning of Christian theology, that is, for the Apologetic and Gnosis, it is important to note where they are dependent on Stoic, and where on Platonic lines of thought. Platonism and Stoicism, in the second century, appeared in union with each other: but up to a certain point they may be distinguished in the common channel in which they flow. Wherever Stoicism prevailed in religious thought and feeling, as for example, in Marcus Aurelius, religion gains currency as _natural_ religion in the most comprehensive sense of the word. The idea of revelation or redemption scarcely emerges. To this rationalism, the objects of knowledge are unvarying, ever the same: even cosmology attracts interest only in a very small degree. Myth and history are pageantry and masks. Moral ideas (virtues and duties) dominate even the religious sphere, which in its final basis has no independent authority. The interest in psychology and apologetic is very pronounced. On the other hand, the emphasis, which, in principle, is put on the contrast of spirit and matter, God and the world, had for results: inability to rest in the actual realities of the cosmos, efforts to unriddle the history of the universe backwards and forwards, recognition of this process as the essential task of theoretic philosophy, and a deep, yearning conviction that the course of the world needs assistance. Here were given the conditions for the ideas of revelation, redemption, etc., and the restless search for powers from whom help might come, received here also a scientific justification. The rationalistic apologetic interests thereby fell into the background: contemplation and historical description predominated.[134] The stages in the ecclesiastical history of dogma, from the middle of the first to the middle of the fifth century, correspond to the stages in the history of the ancient religion during the same period. The Apologists, Irenæus, Tertullian, Hippolytus; the Alexandrians; Methodius, and the Cappadocians; Dionysius, the Areopagite, have their parallels in Seneca, Marcus Aurelius; Plutarch, Epictetus, Numenius; Plotinus, Porphyry; Iamblichus and Proclus. But it is not only Greek philosophy that comes into question for the history of Christian dogma. The whole of Greek culture must be taken into account. In his posthumous work, Hatch has shewn in a masterly way how that is to be done. He describes the Grammar, the Rhetoric, the learned Profession, the Schools, the Exegesis, the Homilies, etc., of the Greeks, and everywhere shews how they passed over into the Church, thus exhibiting the Philosophy, the Ethic, the speculative Theology, the Mysteries, etc., of the Greeks, as the main factors in the process of forming the ecclesiastical mode of thought. But, besides the Greek, there is no mistaking the special influence of Romish ideas and customs upon the Christian Church. The following points specially claim attention: (1) The conception of the contents of the Gospel and its application as "salus legitima," with the results which followed from the naturalising of this idea. (2) The conception of the word of Revelation, the Bible, etc., as "lex." (3) The idea of tradition in its relation to the Romish idea. (4) The Episcopal constitution of the Church, including the idea of succession, of the Primateship and universal Episcopate, in their dependence on Romish ideas and institutions (the Ecclesiastical organisation in its dependence on the Roman Empire). (5) The separation of the idea of the "sacrament" from that of the "mystery", and the development of the forensic discipline of penance. The investigation has to proceed in a historical line, described by the following series of chapters: Rome and Tertullian; Rome and Cyprian; Rome, Optatus and Augustine; Rome and the Popes of the fifth century. We have, to shew how, by the power of her constitution and the earnestness and consistency of her policy, Rome a second time, step by step, conquered the world, but this time the Christian world.[135] Greek philosophy exercised the greatest influence not only on the Christian mode of thought, but also through that, on the institutions of the Church. The Church never indeed became a philosophic school: but yet in her was realised in a peculiar way, that which the Stoics and the Cynics had aimed at. The Stoic (Cynic) Philosopher also belonged to the factors from which the Christian Priests or Bishops were formed. That the old bearers of the Spirit--Apostles, Prophets, Teachers--have been changed into a class of professional moralists and preachers, who bridle the people by counsel and reproof [Greek: nouthetein kai elenchein], that this class considers itself and desires to be considered as a mediating Kingly Divine class, that its representatives became "Lords" and let themselves be called "Lords", all this was prefigured in the Stoic wise man and in the Cynic Missionary. But so far as these several "Kings and Lords" are united in the idea and reality of the Church and are subject to it, the Platonic idea of the republic goes beyond the Stoic and Cynic ideals, and subordinates them to it. But this Platonic ideal has again obtained its political realisation in the Church through the very concrete laws of the Roman Empire, which were more and more adopted, or taken possession of. Consequently, in the completed Church we find again the philosophic schools and the Roman Empire. _Literature._--Besides the older works of Tzschirner, Döllinger, Burckhardt, Preller, see Friedländer, Darstellungen aus der Sittengesch. Roms. in der Zeit von August bis zum Ausgang der Antonine, 3 Bd. Aufl. Boissier, La Religion Romaine d'Auguste aux Antonins, 2 Bd. 1874. Ramsay, The Church in the Roman Empire before 170. London, 1893. Réville, La Religion à Rome sous les Sévères, 1886. Schiller, Geschichte der Röm. Kaiserzeit, 1883. Marquardt, Römische Staatsverwaltung, 3 Bde. 1878. Foucart, Les Associations Relig. chez les Grecs, 1873. Liebeman, Z. Gesch. u. Organisation d. Röm. Vereinswesen, 1890. K.J. Neumann, Der Röm. Staat und die allg. Kirche, Bd. I. 1890. Leopold Schmidt, Die Ethik der alten Griechen, 2 Bd. 1882. Heinrici, Die Christengemeinde Korinth's und die religiösen Genossenschaften der Griechen, in der Ztschr. f. wissensch. Theol. 1876-77. Hatch, The Influence of Greek Ideas and Usages upon the Christian Church. Buechner, De neocoria, 1888. Hirschfeld, Z. Gesch. d. röm. Kaisercultus. The Histories of Philosophy by Zeller, Erdmann, Ueberweg, Strümpell, Windelband, etc. Heinze, Die Lehre vom Logos in der Griech. Philosophie, 1872. By same Author, Der Eudämonismus in der Griech. Philosophie, 1883. Hirzel, Untersuchungen zu Cicero's philos. Schriften, 3 Thle. 1877-1883. These investigations are of special value for the history of dogma, because they set forth with the greatest accuracy and care, the later developments of the great Greek philosophic schools, especially on Roman soil. We must refer specially to the discussions on the influence of the Roman on the Greek Philosophy. Volkmann, Die Rhetorik der Griechen und Römer, 1872. _Supplementary._ Perhaps the most important fact for the following development of the history of Dogma, the way for which had already been prepared in the Apostolic age, is the twofold conception of the aim of Christ's appearing, or of the religious blessing of salvation. The two conceptions were indeed as yet mutually dependent on each other, and were twined together in the closest way, just as they are presented in the teaching of Jesus himself; but they began even at this early period to be differentiated. Salvation, that is to say, was conceived, on the one hand, as sharing in the glorious kingdom of Christ soon to appear, and everything else was regarded as preparatory to this sure prospect; on the other hand, however, attention was turned to the conditions and to the provisions of God wrought by Christ, which first made men capable of attaining that portion, that is, of becoming sure of it. Forgiveness of sin, righteousness, faith, knowledge, etc., are the things which come into consideration here, and these blessings themselves, so far as they have as their sure result life in the kingdom of Christ, or more accurately eternal life, may be regarded as salvation. It is manifest that these two conceptions need not be exclusive. The first regards the final effect as the goal and all else as a preparation, the other regards the preparation, the facts already accomplished by Christ and the inner transformation of men as the main thing, and all else as the natural and necessary result. Paul, above all, as may be seen especially from the arguments in the epistle to the Romans, unquestionably favoured the latter conception and gave it vigorous expression. The peculiar conflicts with which he saw himself confronted, and, above all, the great controversy about the relation of the Gospel and the new communities to Judaism, necessarily concentrated the attention on questions as to the arrangements on which the community of those sanctified in Christ should rest, and the conditions of admission to this community. But the centre of gravity of Christian faith might also for the moment be removed from the hope of Christ's second advent, and would then necessarily be found in the first advent, in virtue of which salvation was already prepared for man, and man for salvation (Rom. III.-VIII.). The dual development of the conception of Christianity which followed from this, rules the whole history of the Gospel to the present day. The eschatological view is certainly very severely repressed, but it always breaks out here and there, and still guards the spiritual from the secularisation which threatens it. But the possibility of uniting the two conceptions in complete harmony with each other, and on the other hand, of expressing them antithetically, has been the very circumstance that has complicated in an extraordinary degree the progress of the development of the history of dogma. From this follows the antithesis, that from that conception which somehow recognises salvation itself in a present spiritual possession, eternal life in the sense of immortality may be postulated as final result, though not a glorious kingdom of Christ on earth; while, conversely, the eschatological view must logically depreciate every blessing which can be possessed in the present life. It is now evident that the theology, and, further, the Hellenising, of Christianity, could arise and has arisen in connection, not with the eschatological, but only with the other conception. Just because the matters here in question were present spiritual blessings, and because, from the nature of the case, the ideas of forgiveness of sin, righteousness, knowledge, etc., were not so definitely outlined in the early tradition, as the hopes of the future, conceptions entirely new and very different, could, as it were, be secretly naturalised. The spiritual view left room especially for the great contrast of a religious and a moralistic conception, as well as for a frame of mind which was like the eschatological in so far as, according to it, faith and knowledge were to be only preparatory blessings in contrast with the peculiar blessing of immortality, which of course was contained in them. In this frame of mind the illusion might easily arise that this hope of immortality was the very kernel of those hopes of the future for which old concrete forms of expression were only a temporary shell. But it might further be assumed that contempt for the transitory and finite as such, was identical with contempt for the kingdom of the world which the returning Christ would destroy. The history of dogma has to shew how the old eschatological view was gradually repressed and transformed in the Gentile Christian communities, and how there was finally developed and carried out a spiritual conception in which a strict moralism counterbalanced a luxurious mysticism, and wherein the results of Greek practical philosophy could find a place. But we must here refer to the fact, which is already taught by the development in the Apostolic age, that Christian dogmatic did not spring from the eschatological, but from the spiritual mode of thought. The former had nothing but sure hopes and the guarantee of these hopes by the Spirit, by the words of prophecy and by the apocalyptic writings. One does not think, he lives and dreams, in the eschatological mode of thought; and such a life was vigorous and powerful till beyond the middle of the second century. There can be no external authorities here; for one has at every moment the highest authority in living operation in the Spirit. On the other hand, not only does the ecclesiastical christology essentially spring from the spiritual way of thinking, but very specially also the system of dogmatic guarantees. The co-ordination of [Greek: logos theou, didachê kuriou, kêrygma tôn dôdeka apostolôn] [word of God, teaching of the Lord, preaching of the twelve Apostles], which lay at the basis of all Gentile Christian speculation almost from the very beginning, and which was soon directed against the enthusiasts, originated in a conception which regarded as the essential thing in Christianity, the sure knowledge which is the condition of immortality. If, however, in the following sections of this historical presentation, the pervading and continuous opposition of the two conceptions is not everywhere clearly and definitely brought into prominence, that is due to the conviction that the historian has no right to place the factors and impelling ideas of a development in a clearer light than they appear in the development itself. He must respect the obscurities and complications as they come in his way. A clear discernment of the difference of the two conceptions was very seldom attained to in ecclesiastical antiquity, because they did not look beyond their points of contact, and because certain articles of the eschatological conception could never be suppressed or remodelled in the Church. Goethe (Dichtung und Wahrheit, II. 8,) has seen this very clearly. "The Christian religion wavers between its own historic positive element and a pure Deism, which, based on morality, in its turn offers itself as the foundation of morality. The difference of character and mode of thought shew themselves here in infinite gradations, especially as another main distinction cooperates with them, since the question arises, what share the reason, and what the feelings, can and should have in such convictions." See, also, what immediately follows. 2. The origin of a series of the most important Christian customs and ideas is involved in an obscurity which in all probability will never be cleared up. Though one part of those ideas may be pointed out in the epistles of Paul, yet the question must frequently remain unanswered, whether he found them in existence or formed them independently, and accordingly the other question, whether they are exclusively indebted to the activity of Paul for their spread and naturalisation in Christendom. What was the original conception of baptism? Did Paul develop independently his own conception? What significance had it in the following period? When and where did baptism in the name of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit arise, and how did it make its way in Christendom? In what way were views about the saving value of Christ's death developed alongside of Paul's system? When and how did belief in the birth of Jesus from a Virgin gain acceptance in Christendom? Who first distinguished Christendom, as [Greek: ekklêsia tou theou], from Judaism, and how did the concept [Greek: ekklêsia] become current? How old is the triad: Apostles, Prophets and Teachers? When were Baptism and the Lord's Supper grouped together? How old are our first three Gospels? To all these questions and many more of equal importance there is no sure answer. But the greatest problem is presented by Christology, not indeed in its particular features doctrinally expressed, these almost everywhere may be explained historically, but in its deepest roots as it was preached by Paul as the principle of a new life (2 Cor. V. 17), and as it was to many besides him the expression of a personal union with the exalted Christ (Rev. II. 3). But this problem exists only for the historian who considers things only from the outside, or seeks for objective proofs. Behind and in the Gospel stands the Person of Jesus Christ who mastered men's hearts, and constrained them to yield themselves to him as his own, and in whom they found their God. Theology attempted to describe in very uncertain and feeble outline what the mind and heart had grasped. Yet it testifies of a new life which, like all higher life, was kindled by a Person, and could only be maintained by connection with that Person. "I can do all things through Christ who strengtheneth me." "I live, yet not I, but Christ liveth in me." These convictions are not dogmas and have no history, and they can only be propagated in the manner described by Paul, Gal. I. 15, 16. 3. It was of the utmost importance for the legitimising of the later development of Christianity as a system of doctrine, that early Christianity had an Apostle who was a theologian, and that his Epistles were received into the canon. That the doctrine about Christ has become the main article in Christianity is not of course the result of Paul's preaching, but is based on the confession that Jesus is the Christ. The theology of Paul was not even the most prominent ruling factor in the transformation of the Gospel to the Catholic doctrine of faith, although an earnest study of the Pauline Epistles by the earliest Gentile Christian theologians, the Gnostics, and their later opponents, is unmistakable. But the decisive importance of this theology lies in the fact that, as a rule, it formed the boundary and the foundation--just as the words of the Lord himself--for those who in the following period endeavoured to ascertain original Christianity, because the Epistles attesting it stood in the canon of the New Testament. Now, as this theology comprised both speculative and apologetic elements, as it can be thought of as a system, as it contained a theory of history and a definite conception of the Old Testament, finally, as it was composed of objective and subjective ethical considerations and included the realistic elements of a national religion (wrath of God, sacrifice, reconciliation, Kingdom of glory), as well as profound psychological perceptions and the highest appreciation of spiritual blessings, the Catholic doctrine of faith as it was formed in the course of time, seemed, at least in its leading features, to be related to it, nay, demanded by it. For the ascertaining of the deep-lying distinctions, above all for the perception that the question in the two cases is about elements quite differently conditioned, that even the method is different, in short, that the Pauline Gospel is not identical with the original Gospel and much less with any later doctrine of faith, there is required such historical judgment and such honesty of purpose not to be led astray in the investigation by the canon of the New Testament,[136] that no change in the prevailing ideas can be hoped for for long years to come. Besides, critical theology has made it difficult, to gain an insight into the great difference that lies between the Pauline and the Catholic theology, by the one-sided prominence it has hitherto given to the antagonism between Paulinism and Judaistic Christianity. In contrast with this view the remark of Havet, though also very one-sided, is instructive, "Quand on vient de relire Paul, on ne peut méconnaître le caractère élevé de son oeuvre. Je dirai en un mot, qu'il a agrandi dans une proportion extraordinaire l'attrait que le judaïsme exerçait sur le monde ancien" (Le Christianisme, T. IV. p. 216). That, however, was only very gradually the case and within narrow limits. The deepest and most important writings of the New Testament are incontestably those in which Judaism is understood as religion, but spiritually overcome and subordinated to the Gospel as a new religion,--the Pauline Epistles, the Epistle to the Hebrews, and the Gospel and Epistle of John. There is set forth in these writings a new and exalted world of religious feelings, views and judgments, into which the Christians of succeeding centuries got only meagre glimpses. Strictly speaking, the opinion that the New Testament in its whole extent comprehends a unique literature is not tenable; but it is correct to say that between its most important constituent parts, and the literature of the period immediately following there is a great gulf fixed. But Paulinism especially has had an immeasurable and blessed influence on the whole course of the history of dogma, an influence it could not have had, if the Pauline Epistles had not been received into the canon. Paulinism is a religious and Christocentric doctrine, more inward and more powerful than any other which has ever appeared in the Church. It stands in the clearest opposition to all merely natural moralism, all righteousness of works, all religious ceremonialism, all Christianity without Christ. It has therefore become the conscience of the Church, until the Catholic Church in Jansenism killed this her conscience. "The Pauline reactions describe the critical epochs of theology and the Church."[137] One might write a history of dogma as a history of the Pauline reactions in the Church, and in doing so would touch on all the turning points of the history. Marcion after the Apostolic Fathers; Irenæus, Clement and Origen after the Apologists; Augustine after the Fathers of the Greek Church;[138] the great Reformers of the middle ages from Agobard to Wessel in the bosom of the mediæval Church; Luther after the Scholastics; Jansenism after the council of Trent:--Everywhere it has been Paul, in these men, who produced the Reformation. Paulinism has proved to be a ferment in the history of dogma, a basis it has never been.[139] Just as it had that significance in Paul himself, with reference to Jewish Christianity, so it has continued to work through the history of the Church. [Footnote 46: The Old Testament of itself alone could not have convinced the Græco-Roman world. But the converse question might perhaps be raised as to what results the Gospel would have had in that world without its union with the Old Testament. The Gnostic Schools and the Marcionite Church are to some extent the answer. But would they ever have arisen without the presupposition of a Christian community which recognised the Old Testament?] [Footnote 47: We here leave out of account learned attempts to expound Paulinism. Nor do we take any notice of certain truths regarding the relation of the Old Testament to the New, and regarding the Jewish religion, stated by the Antignostic church teachers, truths which are certainly very important, but have not been sufficiently utilised.] [Footnote 48: There is indeed no single writing of the new Testament which does not betray the influence of the mode of thought and general conditions of the culture of the time which resulted from the Hellenising of the east: even the use of the Greek translation of the Old Testament attests this fact. Nay, we may go further, and say that the Gospel itself is historically unintelligible, so long as we compare it with an exclusive Judaism as yet unaffected by any foreign influence. But on the other hand, it is just as clear that, specifically, Hellenic ideas form the presuppositions neither for the Gospel itself, nor for the most important New Testament writings. It is a question rather as to a general spiritual atmosphere created by Hellenism, which above all strengthened the individual element, and with it the idea of completed personality, in itself living and responsible. On this foundation we meet with a religious mode of thought in the Gospel and the early Christian writings, which so far as it is at all dependent on an earlier mode of thought, is determined by the spirit of the Old Testament (Psalms and Prophets) and of Judaism. But it is already otherwise with the earliest Gentile Christian writings. The mode of thought here is so thoroughly determined by the Hellenic spirit that we seem to have entered a new world when we pass from the synoptists, Paul and John, to Clement, Barnabas, Justin or Valentinus. We may therefore say, especially in the frame-work of the history of dogma, that the Hellenic element has exercised an influence on the Gospel first on Gentile Christian soil, and by those who were Greek by birth, if only we reserve the general spiritual atmosphere above referred to. Even Paul is no exception; for in spite of the well-founded statements of Weizsäcker (Apostolic Age, vol. I. Book 11) and Heinrici (Das 2 Sendschreiben an die Korinthier, 1887, p. 578 ff), as to the Hellenism of Paul, it is certain that the Apostle's mode of religious thought, in the strict sense of the word, and therefore also the doctrinal formation peculiar to him, are but little determined by the Greek spirit. But it is to be specially noted that as a missionary and an Apologist he made use of Greek ideas (Epistles to the Romans and Corinthians). He was not afraid to put the Gospel into Greek modes of thought. To this extent we can already observe in him the beginning of the development which we can trace so clearly in the Gentile Church from Clement to Justin, and from Justin to Irenæus.] [Footnote 49: The complete universalism of salvation is given in the Pauline conception of Christianity. But this conception is singular. Because: (1) the Pauline universalism is based on a criticism of the Jewish religion as religion, including the Old Testament, which was not understood and therefore not received by Christendom in general. (2) Because Paul not only formulated no national anti-Judaism, but always recognised the prerogative of the people of Israel as a people. (3) Because his idea of the Gospel, with all his Greek culture, is independent of Hellenism in its deepest grounds. This peculiarity of the Pauline Gospel is the reason why little more could pass from it into the common consciousness of Christendom than the universalism of salvation, and why the later development of the Church cannot be explained from Paulinism. Baur, therefore, was quite right when he recognised that we must exhibit another and more powerful element in order to comprehend the post-Pauline formations. In the selection of this element, however, he has made a fundamental mistake, by introducing the narrow national Jewish Christianity, and he has also given much too great scope to Paulinism by wrongly conceiving it as Gentile Christian doctrine. One great difficulty for the historian of the early Church is that he cannot start from Paulinism, the plainest phenomenon of the Apostolic age, in seeking to explain the following development, that in fact the premises for this development are not at all capable of being indicated in the form of outlines, just because they were too general. But, on the other hand, the Pauline Theology, this theology of one who had been a Pharisee, is the strongest proof of the independent and universal power of the impression made by the Person of Jesus.] [Footnote 50: In the main writings of the New Testament itself we have a twofold conception of the Spirit. According to the one he comes upon the believer fitfully, expresses himself in visible signs, deprives men of self-consciousness, and puts them beside themselves. According to the other, the spirit is a constant possession of the Christian, operates in him by enlightening the conscience and strengthening the character, and his fruits are love, joy, peace, patience, gentleness, etc. (Gal. V. 22). Paul above all taught Christians to value these fruits of the spirit higher than all the other effects of his working. But he has not by any means produced a perfectly clear view on this point: for "he himself spoke with more tongues than they all." As yet "Spirit" lay within "Spirit." One felt in the spirit of sonship a completely new gift coming from God and recreating life, a miracle of God; further, this spirit also produced sudden exclamations--"Abba, Father;" and thus shewed himself in a way patent to the senses. For that very reason, the spirit of ecstasy and of miracle appeared identical with the spirit of sonship. (See Gunkel, Die Wirkungen d. h. Geistes nach der populären Anschauung der Apostol. Zeit. Göttingen, 1888).] [Footnote 51: It may even be said here that the [Greek: athanasia (zôê aiônios)], on the one hand, and the [Greek: ekklêsia], on the other, have already appeared in place of the [Greek: Basileia tou theou], and that the idea of Messiah has been finally replaced by that of the Divine Teacher and of God manifest in the flesh.] [Footnote 52: It is one of the merits of Bruno Bauer (Christus und die Cäsaren, 1877), that he has appreciated the real significance of the Greek element in the Gentile Christianity which became the Catholic Church and doctrine, and that he has appreciated the influence of the Judaism of the Diaspora as a preparation for this Gentile Christianity. But these valuable contributions have unfortunately been deprived of their convincing power by a baseless criticism of the early Christian literature, to which Christ and Paul have fallen a sacrifice. Somewhat more cautious are the investigations of Havet in the fourth volume of Le Christianisme, 1884; Le Nouveau Testament. He has won great merit by the correct interpretation of the elements of Gentile Christianity developing themselves to catholicism, but his literary criticism is often unfortunately entirely abstract, reminding one of the criticism of Voltaire, and therefore his statements in detail are, as a rule, arbitrary and untenable. There is a school in Holland at the present time closely related to Bruno Bauer and Havet, which attempts to banish early Christianity from the world. Christ and Paul are creations of the second century: the history of Christianity begins with the passage of the first century into the second--a peculiar phenomenon on the soil of Hellenised Judaism in quest of a Messiah. This Judaism created Jesus Christ just as the later Greek religious philosophers created their Saviour (Apollonius, for example). The Marcionite Church produced Paul and the growing Catholic Church completed him. See the numerous treatises of Loman, the Verisimilia of Pierson and Naber (1886), and the anonymous English work "Antiqua Mater" (1887), also the works of Steck (see especially his Untersuchung über den Galaterbrief). Against these works see P.V. Schmidt's, "Der Galaterbrief," 1892. It requires a deep knowledge of the problems which the first two centuries of the Christian Church present, in order not to thrust aside as simply absurd these attempts, which as yet have failed to deal with the subject in a connected way. They have their strength in the difficulties and riddles which are contained in the history of the formation of the Catholic tradition in the second century. But the single circumstance that we are asked to regard as a forgery such a document as the first Epistle of Paul to the Corinthians, appears to me, of itself, to be an unanswerable argument against the new hypotheses.] [Footnote 53: It would be a fruitful task, though as yet it has not been undertaken, to examine how long visions, dreams and apocalypses, on the one hand, and the claim of speaking in the power and name of the Holy Spirit, on the other, played a _rôle_ in the early Church; and further to shew how they nearly died out among the laity, but continued to live among the clergy and the monks, and how, even among the laity, there were again and again sporadic outbreaks of them. The material which the first three centuries present is very great. Only a few may be mentioned here: Ignat. ad. Rom. VII. 2; ad. Philad. VII; ad Eph. XX. 1, etc.; 1 Clem. LXIII. 2; Martyr. Polyc.; Acta Perpet. et Felic; Tertull de animo XLVII.; "Major pæne vis hominum e visionibus deum discunt." Orig. c. Celsum. i. 46: [Greek: polloi hosperei akontes proselêluthasi christianismô, pneumatos tinos trepsantos ... kai phantasiôsantos autous hupar ê onar] (even Arnobius was ostensibly led to Christianity by a dream). Cyprian makes the most extensive use of dreams, visions, etc., in his letters, see for example Ep. XI. 3-5; XVI. 4 ("præter nocturnas visiones per dies quoque impletur apud nos spiritu sancto puerorum innocens aetas, quæ in ecstasi videt," etc.); XXXIX. 1; LXVI 10 (very interesting: "quamquam sciam somnia ridicula et visiones ineptas quibusdam videri, sed utique illis, qui malunt contra sacerdotes credere quam sacerdoti, sed nihil mirum, quando de Joseph fratres sui dixerunt: ecce somniator ille," etc.). One who took part in the baptismal controversy in the great Synod of Carthage writes, "secundum motum animi mei et spiritus sancti." The enthusiastic element was always evoked with special power in times of persecution, as the genuine African martyrdoms, from the second half of the third century, specially shew. Cf. especially the passio Jacobi, Mariani, etc. But where the enthusiasm was not convenient it was called, as in the case of the Montanists, dæmonic. Even Constantine operated with dreams and visions of Christ (see his Vita).] [Footnote 54: As to the first, the recently discovered "Teaching of the Apostles" in its first moral part, shews a great affinity with the moral philosophy which was set up by Alexandrian Jews and put before the Greek world as that which had been revealed: see Massebieau, L'enseignement des XII. Apôtres, Paris, 1884, and in the Journal "Le Temoignage," 7 Febr. 1885. Usener, in his Preface to the Ges. Abhandl. Jacob Bernays', which he edited, 1885, p.v.f., has, independently of Massebieau, pointed out the relationship of chapters 1-5 of the "Teaching of the Apostles" with the Phocylidean poem (see Bernays' above work, p. 192 ff.). Later Taylor, "The teaching of the twelve Apostles", 1886, threw out the conjecture that the Didache had a Jewish foundation, and I reached the same conclusion independently of him: see my Treatise: Die Apostellehre und die judischen beiden Wege, 1886.] [Footnote 55: It is well known that Judaism at the time of Christ embraced a great many different tendencies. Beside Pharisaic Judaism as the stem proper there was a motley mass of formations which resulted from the contact of Judaism with foreign ideas, customs, and institutions (even with Babylonian and Persian), and which attained importance for the development of the predominant church as well as for the formation of the so-called gnostic Christian communions. Hellenic elements found their way even into Pharisaic theology. Orthodox Judaism itself has marks which shew that no spiritual movement was able to escape the influence which proceeded from the victory of the Greeks over the east. Besides who would venture to exhibit definitely the origin and causes of that spiritualising of religions and that limitation of the moral standard of which we can find so many traces in the Alexandrian age? The nations who inhabited the eastern shore of the Mediterranean sea had from the fourth century B.C. a common history and therefore had similar convictions. Who can decide what each of them acquired by its own exertions and what it obtained through interchange of opinions? But in proportion as we see this we must be on our guard against jumbling the phenomena together and effacing them. There is little meaning in calling a thing Hellenic, as that really formed an element in all the phenomena of the age. All our great political and ecclesiastical parties to-day are dependent on the ideas of 1789 and again on romantic ideas. It is just as easy to verify this as it is difficult to determine the measure and the manner of the influence for each group. And yet the understanding of it turns altogether on this point. To call Pharisaism or the Gospel or the old Jewish Christianity Hellenic is not paradox but confusion.] [Footnote 56: The Acts of the Apostles is in this respect a most instructive book. It as well as the Gospel of Luke is a document of Gentile Christianity developing itself to Catholicism; Cf. Overbeck in his Commentar z Apostelgesch. But the comprehensive judgment of Havet in the work above mentioned (IV. p. 395) is correct: "L hellenisme tient assez peu de place dans le N.T. du moins l hellenisme voulu et reflechi. Ces livres sont ecrits en grec et leurs auteurs vivaient en pays grec, il y a donc eu chez eux infiltration des idees et des sentiments helleniques, quelquefois même l imagination hellenique y a pénetre comme dans le 3 evangile et dans les Actes. Dans son ensemble le N.T. garde le caractere d un livre hebraique. Le christianisme ne commence avoir une litterature et des doctrines vraiment helleniques qu au milieu du second siecle. Mais il y avait un judaisme celui d Alexandrie qui avait faite alliance avec l hellenisme avant meme qu il y eut des chretiens."] [Footnote 57: The right of distinguishing (b) and (c) may be contested. But if we surrender this we therewith surrender the right to distinguish kernel and husk in the original proclamation of the Gospel. The dangers to which the attempt is exposed should not frighten us from it for it has its justification in the fact that the Gospel is neither doctrine nor law.] [Footnote 58: Therewith are, doubtless, heavenly blessings bestowed in the present. Historical investigation has, notwithstanding, every reason for closely examining whether, and in how far, we may speak of a present for the Kingdom of God, in the sense of Jesus. But even if the question had to be answered in the negative, it would make little or no difference for the correct understanding of Jesus' preaching. The Gospel viewed in its kernel is independent of this question. It deals with the inner constitution and mood of the soul.] [Footnote 59: The question whether, and in what degree, a man of himself can earn righteousness before God is one of those theoretic questions to which Jesus gave no answer. He fixed his attention on all the gradations of the moral and religious conduct of his countrymen as they were immediately presented to him, and found some prepared for entrance into the kingdom of God, not by a technical mode of outward preparation, but by hungering and thirsting for it, and at the same time unselfishly serving their brethren. Humility and love unfeigned were always the decisive marks of these prepared ones. They are to be satisfied with righteousness before God, that is, are to receive the blessed feeling that God is gracious to them as sinners, and accepts them as his children. Jesus, however, allows the popular distinction of sinners and righteous to remain, but exhibits its perverseness by calling sinners to him and by describing the opposition of the righteous to his Gospel as a mark of their godlessness and hardness of heart.] [Footnote 60: The blessings of the kingdom were frequently represented by Jesus as a reward for work done. But this popular view is again broken through by reference to the fact that all reward is the gift of God's free grace.] [Footnote 61: Some Critics--most recently Havet, Le Christianisme et ses origines, 1884. T. IV. p. 15 ff.--have called in question the fact that Jesus called himself Messiah. But this article of the Evangelic tradition seems to me to stand the test of the most minute investigation. But, in the case of Jesus, the consciousness of being the Messiah undoubtedly rested on the certainty of being the Son of God, therefore of knowing the Father and being constrained to proclaim that knowledge.] [Footnote 62: We can gather with certainty from the Gospels that Jesus did not enter on his work with the announcement: Believe in me for I am the Messiah. On the contrary, he connected his work with the baptising movement of John, but carried that movement further, and thereby made the Baptist his forerunner (Mark I. 15: [Greek: peplêrôtai ho kairos kai êngiken hê basileia tou theou, metanoeite kai pisteuete en tôi euaggeliôi]). He was in no hurry to urge anything that went beyond that message, but gradually prepared, and cautiously required of his followers an advance beyond it. The goal to which he led them was to believe in him as Messiah without putting the usual political construction on the Messianic ideal.] [Footnote 63: Even "Son of Man" probably means Messiah: we do not know whether Jesus had any special reason for favouring this designation which springs from Dan. VII. The objection to interpreting the word as Messiah really resolves itself into this, that the disciples (according to the Gospels) did not at once recognise him as Messiah. But that is explained by the contrast of his own peculiar idea of Messiah with the popular idea. The confession of him as Messiah was the keystone of their confidence in him, inasmuch as by that confession they separated themselves from old ideas.] [Footnote 64: The distinction between the Father and the Son stands out just as plainly in the sayings of Jesus, as the complete obedient subordination of the Son to the Father. Even according to John's Gospel, Jesus finishes the work which the Father has given him, and is obedient in everything even unto death. He declares Matt. XIX. 17: [Greek: heis estin ho agathos]. Special notice should be given to Mark XIII. 32, (Matt. XXIV. 36). Behind the only manifested life of Jesus, later speculation has put a life in which he wrought, not in subordination and obedience, but in like independence and dignity with God. That goes beyond the utterances of Jesus even in the fourth Gospel. But it is no advance beyond these, especially in the religious view and speech of the time, when it is announced that the relation of the Father to the Son lies beyond time. It is not even improbable that the sayings in the fourth Gospel referring to this, have a basis in the preaching of Jesus himself.] [Footnote 65: Paul knew that the designation of God as the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, was the new Evangelic confession. Origen was the first among the Fathers (though before him Marcion) to recognise that the decisive advance beyond the Old Testament stage of religion, was given in the preaching of God as Father; see the exposition of the Lord's prayer in his treatise _De oratione_. No doubt the Old Testament, and the later Judaism knew the designation of God as Father; but it applied it to the Jewish nation, it did not attach the evangelic meaning to the name, and it did not allow itself in any way to be guided in its religion by this idea.] [Footnote 66: See the farewell discourses in John, the fundamental ideas of which are, in my opinion, genuine, that is, proceed from Jesus.] [Footnote 67: The historian cannot regard a miracle as a sure given historical event: for in doing so he destroys the mode of consideration on which all historical investigation rests. Every individual miracle remains historically quite doubtful, and a summation of things doubtful never leads to certainty. But should the historian, notwithstanding, be convinced that Jesus Christ did extraordinary things, in the strict sense miraculous things, then, from the unique impression he has obtained of this person, he infers the possession by him of supernatural power. This conclusion itself belongs to the province of religious faith: though there has seldom been a strong faith which would not have drawn it. Moreover, the healing miracles of Jesus are the only ones that come into consideration in a strict historical examination. These certainly cannot be eliminated from the historical accounts without utterly destroying them. But how unfit are they of themselves, after 1800 years, to secure any special importance to him to whom they are attributed, unless that importance was already established apart from them. That he could do with himself what he would, that he created a new thing without overturning the old, that he won men to himself by announcing the Father, that he inspired without fanaticism, set up a kingdom without politics, set men free from the world without asceticism, was a teacher without theology, at a time of fanaticism and politics, asceticism and theology, is the great miracle of his person, and that he who preached the Sermon on the Mount declared himself in respect of his life and death, to be the Redeemer and Judge of the world, is the offence and foolishness which mock all reason.] [Footnote 68: See Mark X. 45.--That Jesus at the celebration of the first Lord's supper described his death as a sacrifice which he should offer for the forgiveness of sin, is clear from the account of Paul. From that account it appears to be certain, that Jesus gave expression to the idea of the necessity and saving significance of his death for the forgiveness of sins, in a symbolical ordinance (based on the conclusion of the covenant, Exod. XXIV. 3 ff., perhaps, as Paul presupposes, on the Passover), in order that His disciples by repeating it in accordance with the will of Jesus, might be the more deeply impressed by it. Certain observations based on John VI., on the supper prayer in the Didache, nay, even on the report of Mark, and supported at the same time by features of the earliest practice in which it had the character of a real meal, and the earliest theory of the supper, which viewed it as a communication of eternal life and an anticipation of the future existence, have for years made me doubt very much whether the Pauline account and the Pauline conception of it, were really either the oldest, or the universal and therefore only one. I have been strengthened in this suspicion by the profound and remarkable investigation of Spitta (z. Gesch. u. Litt. d. Urchristenthums: Die urchristl. Traditionen ü. den Urspr. u. Sinnd. Abendmahls, 1893). He sees in the supper as not instituted, but celebrated by Jesus, the festival of the Messianic meal, the anticipated triumph over death, the expression of the perfection of the Messianic work, the symbolic representation of the filling of believers with the powers of the Messianic kingdom and life. The reference to the Passover and the death of Christ was attached to it later, though it is true very soon. How much is thereby explained that was hitherto obscure--critical, historical, and dogmatico-historical questions--cannot at all be stated briefly. And yet I hesitate to give a full recognition to Spitta's exposition: the words 1 Cor. XI. 23: [Greek: egô gar parelabon apo tou kuríou, ho kaì paredoka humin k.t.l.] are too strong for me. Cf. besides, Weizsäcker's investigation in "The Apostolic Age." Lobstein, La doctrine de la s. cène. 1889. A. Harnack i.d. Texten u. Unters. VII. 2. p. 139 ff. Schürer, Theol. Lit. Ztg. 1891, p. 29 ff. Jülicher Abhandl. f Weizsäcker, 1892, p. 215 ff.] [Footnote 69: With regard to the eschatology, no one can say in detail what proceeds from Jesus, and what from the disciples. What has been said in the text does not claim to be certain, but only probable. The most important, and at the same time the most certain point, is that Jesus made the definitive fate of the individual depend on faith, humility and love. There are no passages in the Gospel which conflict with the impression that Jesus reserved day and hour to God, and wrought in faith and patience as long as for him it was day.] [Footnote 70: He did not impose on every one, or desire from every one even the outward following of himself: see Mark V. 18-19. The "imitation of Jesus", in the strict sense of the word, did not play any noteworthy rôle either in the Apostolic or in the old Catholic period.] [Footnote 71: It is asserted by well-informed investigators, and may be inferred from the Gospels (Mark XII. 32-34; Luke X. 27, 28), perhaps also from the Jewish original of the Didache, that some representatives of Pharisaism, beside the pedantic treatment of the law, attempted to concentrate it on the fundamental moral commandments. Consequently, in Palestinian and Alexandrian Judaism at the time of Christ, in virtue of the prophetic word and the Thora, influenced also, perhaps, by the Greek spirit which everywhere gave the stimulus to inwardness, the path was indicated in which the future development of religion was to follow. Jesus entered fully into the view of the law thus attempted, which comprehended it as a whole and traced it back to the disposition. But he freed it from the contradiction that adhered to it, (because, in spite of and alongside the tendency to a deeper perception, men still persisted in deducing righteousness from a punctilious observance of numerous particular commandments, because in so doing they became self-satisfied, that is, irreligious, and because in belonging to Abraham they thought they had a claim of right on God). For all that, so far as a historical understanding of the activity of Jesus is at all possible, it is to be obtained from the soil of Pharisaism, as the Pharisees were those who cherished and developed the Messianic expectations, and because, along with their care for the Thora, they sought also to preserve, in their own way, the prophetic inheritance. If everything does not deceive us, there were already contained in the Pharisaic theology of the age, speculations which were fitted to modify considerably the narrow view of history, and to prepare for universalism. The very men who tithed mint, anise and cummin, who kept their cups and dishes outwardly clean, who, hedging round the Thora, attempted to hedge round the people, spoke also of the sum total of the law. They made room in their theology for new ideas which are partly to be described as advances, and on the other hand, they have already pondered the question even in relation to the law, whether submission to its main contents was not sufficient for being numbered among the people of the covenant (see Renan: _Paul_). In particular the whole sacrificial system, which Jesus also essentially ignored, was therewith thrust into the background. Baldensperger (Selbstbewusstsein Jesu. p. 46) justly says. "There lie before us definite marks that the certainty of the nearness of God in the Temple (from the time of the Maccabees) begins to waver, and the efficacy of the temple institutions to be called in question. Its recent desecration by the Romans, appears to the author of the Psalms of Solomon (II. 2) as a kind of Divine requital for the sons of Israel, themselves having been guilty of so grossly profaning the sacrificial gifts. Enoch calls the shewbread of the second Temple polluted and unclean. There had crept in among the pious a feeling of the insufficiency of their worship, and from this side the Essenic schism will certainly represent only the open outbreak of a disease which had already begun to gnaw secretly at the religious life of the nation": see here the excellent explanations of the origin of Essenism in Lucius (Essenism 75 ff. 109 ff.) The spread of Judaism in the world, the secularization and apostacy of the priestly caste, the desecration of the Temple, the building of the Temple at Leontopolis, the perception brought about by the spiritualising of religion in the empire of Alexander the Great, that no blood of beast can be a means of reconciling God--all these circumstances must have been absolutely dangerous and fatal, both to the local centralisation of worship, and to the statutory sacrificial system. The proclamation of Jesus (and of Stephen) as to the overthrow of the Temple, is therefore no absolutely new thing, nor is the fact that Judaism fell back upon the law and the Messianic hope, a mere result of the destruction of the Temple. This change was rather prepared by the inner development. Whatever point in the preaching of Jesus we may fix on, we shall find, that--apart from the writings of the Prophets and the Psalms, which originated in the Greek Maccabean periods--parallels can be found only in Pharisaism, but at the same time that the sharpest contrasts must issue from it. Talmudic Judaism is not in every respect the genuine continuance of Pharisaic Judaism, but a product of the decay which attests that the rejection of Jesus by the spiritual leaders of the people had deprived the nation, and even the Virtuosi of Religion of their best part (see for this the expositions of Kuenen "Judaismus und Christenthum", in his (Hibbert) lectures on national religions and world religions). The ever recurring attempts to deduce the origin of Christianity from Hellenism, or even from the Roman Greek culture, are there also rightly, briefly and tersely rejected. Also the hypotheses, which either entirely eliminate the person of Jesus or make him an Essene, or subordinate him to the person of Paul, may be regarded as definitively settled. Those who think they can ascertain the origin of Christian religion from the origin of Christian Theology will, indeed, always think of Hellenism: Paul will eclipse the person of Jesus with those who believe that a religion for the world must be born with a universalistic doctrine. Finally, Essenism will continue in authority with those who see in the position of indifference which Jesus took to the Temple worship, the main thing, and who, besides, create for themselves an "Essenism of their own finding." Hellenism, and also Essenism, can of course indicate to the historian some of the conditions by which the appearance of Jesus was prepared and rendered possible; but they explain only the possibility, not the reality of the appearance. But this with its historically not deducible power is the decisive thing. If some one has recently said that "the historical speciality of the person of Jesus" is not the main thing in Christianity, he has thereby betrayed that he does not know how a religion that is worthy of the name is founded, propagated, and maintained. For the latest attempt to put the Gospel in a historical connection with Buddhism (Seydel, Das Ev von Jesus in seinen Verhältnissen zur Buddha-Sage, 1882: likewise, Die Buddha-Legende und das Leben Jesu, 1884), see, Oldenburg, Theol. Lit-Z'g 1882. Col. 415 f. 1884. 185 f. However much necessarily remains obscure to us in the ministry of Jesus when we seek to place it in a historical connection,--what is known is sufficient to confirm the judgment that his preaching developed a germ in the religion of Israel (see the Psalms) which was finally guarded and in many respects developed by the Pharisees, but which languished and died under their guardianship. The power of development which Jesus imported to it was not a power which he himself had to borrow from without; but doctrine and speculation were as far from him as ecstasy and visions. On the other hand, we must remember we do not know the history of Jesus up to his public entrance on his ministry, and that therefore we do not know whether in his native province he had any connection with Greeks.] [Footnote 72: See the brilliant investigations of Weizsäcker (Apost. Zeitalter. p. 36) as to the earliest significant names, self-designations, of the disciples. The twelve were in the first place "[Greek: mathêtai]," (disciples and family-circle of Jesus, see also the significance of James and the brethren of Jesus), then witnesses of the resurrection and therefore Apostles; very soon there appeared beside them, even in Jerusalem, Prophets and Teachers.] [Footnote 73: The Christian preaching is very pregnantly described in Acts XXVIII. 31. as [Greek: kêrussein tên Basileian tou Theou, kai didaskein ta peri tou Iêsou Christou].] [Footnote 74: On the spirit of God (of Christ) see note, p. 50. The earliest Christians felt the influence of the spirit as one coming on them from without.] [Footnote 75: It cannot be directly proved that Jesus instituted baptism, for Matth. XXVIII. 19, is not a saying of the Lord. The reasons for this assertion are: (1) It is only a later stage of the tradition that represents the risen Christ as delivering speeches and giving commandments. Paul knows nothing of it. (2) The Trinitarian formula is foreign to the mouth of Jesus and has not the authority in the Apostolic age which it must have had if it had descended from Jesus himself. On the other hand, Paul knows of no other way of receiving the Gentiles into the Christian communities than by baptism, and it is highly probable that in the time of Paul all Jewish Christians were also baptised. We may perhaps assume that the practice of baptism was continued in consequence of Jesus' recognition of John the Baptist and his baptism, even after John himself had been removed. According to John IV. 2, Jesus himself baptised not, but his disciples under his superintendence. It is possible only with the help of tradition to trace back to Jesus a "Sacrament of Baptism," or an obligation to it _ex necessitate salutis_, though it is credible that tradition is correct here. Baptism in the Apostolic age was [Greek: eis aphesin hamartiôn], and indeed [Greek: eis to onoma christou] (1 Cor. I. 13; Acts XIX. 5). We cannot make out when the formula, [Greek: eis to onoma tou patros, kai tou huiou, kai tou hagiou pneumatos], emerged. The formula [Greek: eis to onoma] expresses that the person baptised is put into a relation of dependence on him into whose name he is baptised. Paul has given baptism a relation to the death of Christ, or justly inferred it from the [Greek: eis aphesin hamartiôn]. The descent of the spirit on the baptised very soon ceased to be regarded as the necessary and immediate result of baptism; yet Paul, and probably his contemporaries also, considered the grace of baptism and the communication of the spirit to be inseparably united. See Scholten. Die Taufformel. 1885. Holtzman, Die Taufe im N.T. Ztsch. f. wiss. Theol. 1879.] [Footnote 76: The designation of the Christian community as [Greek: ekklêsia] originates perhaps with Paul, though that is by no means certain; see as to this "name of honour," Sohm, Kirchenrecht, Vol. I. p. 16 ff. The words of the Lord, Matt. XVI. 18; XVIII. 17, belong to a later period. According to Gal. I. 22, [Greek: tais en christo] is added to the [Greek: tais ekklêsiais tês Ioudaias]. The independence of every individual Christian in, and before God is strongly insisted on in the Epistles of Paul, and in the Epistle of Peter, and in the Christian portions of Revelations: [Greek: epoiêsen hêmas basileian, hiereis tôi theo kai patri autou].] [Footnote 77: Jesus is regarded with adoring reverence as Messiah and Lord, that is, these are regarded as the names which his Father has given him. Christians are those who call on the name of the Lord Jesus Christ (1 Cor. I. 2): every creature must bow before him and confess him as Lord (Phil. II. 9): see Deissmann on the N.T. formula "in Christo Jesu."] [Footnote 78: The confession of Father, Son and Spirit is therefore the unfolding of the belief that Jesus is the Christ: but there was no intention of expressing by this confession the essential equality of the three persons, or even the similar relation of the Christian to them. On the contrary, the Father, in it, is regarded as the God and Father over all, the Son as revealer, redeemer and Lord, the Spirit as a possession, principle of the new supernatural life and of holiness. From the Epistles of Paul we perceive that the Formula Father, Son and Spirit could not yet have been customary, especially in Baptism. But it was approaching (2 Cor. XIII. 13).] [Footnote 79: The Christological utterances which are found in the New Testament writings, so far as they explain and paraphrase the confession of Jesus as the Christ and the Lord, may be almost entirely deduced from one or other of the four points mentioned in the text. But we must at the same time insist that these declarations were meant to be explanations of the confession that "Jesus is the Lord," which of course included the recognition that Jesus by the resurrection became a heavenly being (see Weizsäcker in above mentioned work, p. 110) The solemn protestation of Paul, 1 Cor. XII. 3 [Greek: dio gnôrizo humin hoti oudeis en pneumati theou lalôn legei ANATHEMA IÊSOUS, kai oudeis dunatai eipein KURIOS IÊSOUS ei mê en pneumati hagiô] (cf. Rom. X. 9), shews that he who acknowledged Jesus as the Lord, and accordingly believed in the resurrection of Jesus, was regarded as a full-born Christian. It undoubtedly excludes from the Apostolic age the independent authority of any christological dogma besides that confession and the worship of Christ connected with it. It is worth notice, however, that those early Christian men who recognised Christianity as the vanquishing of the Old Testament religion (Paul, the Author of the Epistle to the Hebrews, John) all held that Christ was a being who had come down from heaven.] [Footnote 80: Compare in their fundamental features the common declarations about the saving value of the death of Christ in Paul, in the Johannine writings, in 1st Peter, in the Epistle to the Hebrews, and in the Christian portions of the book of Revelation: [Greek: tô agapônti hêmas kai lusanti hêmas ek tôn hamartiôn en tôi haimati autou, autô hê doxa]: Compare the reference to Isaiah LIII. and the Passover lamb: the utterances about the "lamb" generally in the early writings: see Westcott, The Epistles of John, p. 34 f.: The idea of the blood of Christ in the New Testament.] [Footnote 81: This of course could not take place otherwise than by reflecting on its significance. But a dislocation was already completed as soon as it was isolated and separated from the whole of Jesus, or even from his future activity. Reflection on the meaning or the causes of particular facts might easily, in virtue of that isolation, issue in entirely new conceptions.] [Footnote 82: See the discriminating statements of Weizsäcker, "Apostolic Age", p. 1 f., especially as to the significance of Peter as first witness of the resurrection. Cf. 1 Cor. XV. 5 with Luke XXIV. 34: also the fragment of the "Gospel of Peter" which unfortunately breaks off at the point where one expects the appearance of the Lord to Peter.] [Footnote 83: It is often said that Christianity rests on the belief in the resurrection of Christ. This may be correct, if it is first declared who this Jesus Christ is, and what his life signifies. But when it appears as a naked report to which one must above all submit, and when in addition, as often happens, it is supplemented by the assertion that the resurrection of Christ is the most certain fact in the history of the world, one does not know whether he should marvel more at its thoughtlessness or its unbelief. We do not need to have faith in a fact, and that which requires religious belief, that is, trust in God, can never be a fact which would hold good apart from that belief. The historical question and the question of faith must therefore be clearly distinguished here. The following points are historically certain: (1) That none of Christ's opponents saw him after his death. (2) That the disciples were convinced that they had seen him soon after his death. (3) That the succession and number of those appearances can no longer be ascertained with certainty. (4) That the disciples and Paul were conscious of having seen Christ not in the crucified earthly body, but in heavenly glory--even the later incredible accounts of the appearances of Christ, which strongly emphasise the reality of the body, speak at the same time of such a body as can pass through closed doors, which certainly is not an earthly body. (5) That Paul does not compare the manifestation of Christ given to him with any of his later visions, but, on the other hand, describes it in the words (Gal. I. 15): [Greek: hote eudokêsen ho theos apokalupsai ton huion autou en emoi], and yet puts it on a level with the appearances which the earlier Apostles had seen. But, as even the empty grave on the third day can by no means be regarded as a certain historical fact, because it appears united in the accounts with manifest legendary features, and further because it is directly excluded by the way in which Paul has portrayed the resurrection 1 Cor. XV. it follows: (1) That every conception which represents the resurrection of Christ as a simple reanimation of his mortal body, is far from the original conception, and (2) that the question generally as to whether Jesus has risen, can have no existence for any one who looks at it apart from the contents and worth of the Person of Jesus. For the mere fact that friends and adherents of Jesus were convinced that they had seen him, especially when they themselves explain that he appeared to them in heavenly glory, gives, to those who are in earnest about fixing historical facts not the least cause for the assumption that Jesus did not continue in the grave. History is therefore at first unable to bring any succour to faith here. However firm may have been the faith of the disciples in the appearances of Jesus in their midst, and it was firm, to believe in appearances which others have had is a frivolity which is always revenged by rising doubts. But history is still of service to faith; it limits its scope and therewith shews the province to which it belongs. The question which history leaves to faith is this: Was Jesus Christ swallowed up of death, or did he pass through suffering and the cross to glory, that is, to life, power and honour. The disciples would have been convinced of that in the sense in which Jesus meant them to understand it, though they had not seen him in glory (a consciousness of this is found in Luke XXIV. 26 [Greek: ouchi tauta edei pathein ton christon kai eiselthein eis tên doxan autou], and Joh. XX. 29 [Greek: hoti eôrakas me pepisteukas, makarioi hoi mê idontes kai pisteusantas]) and we might probably add, that no appearances of the Lord could permanently have convinced them of his life, if they had not possessed in their hearts the impression of his Person. Faith in the eternal life of Christ and in our own eternal life is not the condition of becoming a disciple of Jesus, but is the final confession of discipleship. Faith has by no means to do with the knowledge of the form in which Jesus lives, but only with the conviction that he is the living Lord. The determination of the form was immediately dependent on the most varied general ideas of the future life, resurrection, restoration, and glorification of the body, which were current at the time. The idea of the rising again of the body of Jesus appeared comparatively early, because it was this hope which animated wide circles of pious people for their own future. Faith in Jesus, the living Lord, in spite of the death on the cross, cannot be generated by proofs of reason or authority, but only to-day in the same way as Paul has confessed of himself [Greek: hote eudokêsen ho theos apokalupssai ton huion autou en emoi]. The conviction of having seen the Lord was no doubt of the greatest importance for the disciples and made them Evangelists, but what they saw cannot at first help us. It can only then obtain significance for us when we have gained that confidence in the Lord which Peter has expressed in Mark VIII. 29. The Christian even to-day confesses with Paul [Greek: ei en tê zôê tautê en christô êlpikotes esmen monon, eleeisteroi pantôn anthropôn esmen]. He believes in a future life for himself with God because he believes that Christ lives. That is the peculiarity and paradox of Christian faith. But these are not convictions that can be common and matter of course to a deep feeling and earnest thinking being standing amid nature and death, but can only be possessed by those who live with their whole hearts and minds in God, and even they need the prayer, I believe, help thou mine unbelief. To act as if faith in eternal life and in the living Christ was the simplest thing in the world, or a dogma to which one has just to submit, is irreligious. The whole question about the resurrection of Christ, its mode and its significance, has thereby been so thoroughly confused in later Christendom, that we are in the habit of considering eternal life as certain, even apart from Christ. That, at any rate, is not Christian. It is Christian to pray that God would give the Spirit to make us strong to overcome the feelings and the doubts of nature and create belief in an eternal life through the experience of dying to live. Where this faith obtained in this way exists, it has always been supported by the conviction that the Man lives who brought life and immortality to light. To hold fast this faith is the goal of life, for only what we consciously strive for is in this matter our own. What we think we possess is very soon lost.] [Footnote 84: Weizsäcker (Apostolic Age, p. 73) says very justly: "The rising of Judaism against believers put them on their own feet. They saw themselves for the first time persecuted in the name of the law, and therewith for the first time it must have become clear to them, that in reality the law was no longer the same to them as to the others. Their hope is the coming kingdom of heaven, in which it is not the law, but their Master from whom they expect salvation. Everything connected with salvation is in him. But we should not investigate the conditions of the faith of that early period, as though the question had been laid before the Apostles whether they could have part in the Kingdom of heaven without circumcision, or whether it could be obtained by faith in Jesus, with or without the observance of the law. Such questions had no existence for them either practically or as questions of the school. But though they were Jews, and the law which even their Master had not abolished, was for them a matter of course, that did not exclude a change of inner position towards it, through faith in their Master and hope of the Kingdom. There is an inner freedom which can grow up alongside of all the constraints of birth, custom, prejudice, and piety. But this only comes into consciousness, when a demand is made on it which wounds it, or when it is assailed on account of an inference drawn not by its own consciousness, but only by its opponents."] [Footnote 85: Only one of these four tendencies--the Pauline, with the Epistle to the Hebrews and the Johannine writings which are related to Paulinism--has seen in the Gospel the establishment of a new religion. The rest identified it with Judaism made perfect, or with the Old Testament religion rightly understood. But Paul, in connecting Christianity with the promise given to Abraham, passing thus beyond the law, that is, beyond the actual Old Testament religion, has not only given it a historical foundation, but also claimed for the Father of the Jewish nation a unique significance for Christianity. As to the tendencies named 1 and 2, see Book I. chap. 6.] [Footnote 86: It is clear from Gal. II. 11 ff. that Peter then and for long before occupied in principle the stand-point of Paul: see the judicious remarks of Weizsäcker in the book mentioned above, p. 75 f.] [Footnote 87: These four tendencies were represented in the Apostolic age by those who had been born and trained in Judaism, and they were collectively transplanted into Greek territory. But we cannot be sure that the third of the above tendencies found intelligent and independent representatives in this domain, as there is no certain evidence of it. Only one who had really been subject to it, and therefore understood it, could venture on a criticism of the Old Testament religion. Still, it may be noted that the majority of non-Jewish converts in the Apostolic age, had probably come to know the Old Testament beforehand--not always the Jewish religion, (see Havet, Le Christianisme, T. IV. p. 120: "Je ne sais s'il y est entré, du vivant de Paul, un seul païen: je veux dire un homme, qui ne connût pas déjà, avant d'y entrer, le judaïsme et la Bible"). These indications will shew how mistaken and misleading it is to express the different tendencies in the Apostolic age and the period closely following by the designations "Jewish Christianity-Gentile Christianity." Short watchwords are so little appropriate here that one might even with some justice reverse the usual conception, and maintain that what is usually understood by Gentile Christianity (criticism of the Old Testament religion) was possible only within Judaism, while that which is frequently called Jewish Christianity is rather a conception which must have readily suggested itself to born Gentiles superficially acquainted with the Old Testament.] [Footnote 88: The first edition of this volume could not appeal to Weizsäcker's work, Das Apostolische Zeitalter der Christlichen Kirche, 1886, (second edition translated in this series). The author is now in the happy position of being able to refer the readers of his imperfect sketch to this excellent presentation, the strength of which lies in the delineation of Paulinism in its relation to the early Church, and to early Christian theology (p. 79-172). The truth of Weizsäcker's expositions of the inner relations (p. 85 f.), is but little affected by his assumptions concerning the outer relations, which I cannot everywhere regard as just. The work of Weizsäcker as a whole is, in my opinion, the most important work on Church history we have received since Ritschl's "Entstehung der alt-katholischen Kirche." (2 Aufl. 1857.)] [Footnote 89: Kabisch, _Die Eschatologie des Paulus_, 1893, has shewn how strongly the eschatology of Paul was influenced by the later Pharisaic Judaism. He has also called attention to the close connection between Paul's doctrine of sin and the fall, and that of the Rabbis.] [Footnote 90: Some of the Church Fathers (see Socr. H. E. III. 16) have attributed to Paul an accurate knowledge of Greek literature and philosophy: but that cannot be proved. The references of Heinrici (2 Kor.-Brief. p. 537-604) are worthy of our best thanks; but no certain judgment can be formed about the measure of the Apostles' Greek culture, so long as we do not know how great was the extent of spiritual ideas which were already precipitated in the speech of the time.] [Footnote 91: The epistle to the Hebrews and the first epistle of Peter, as well as the Pastoral epistles belong to the Pauline circle; they are of the greatest value because they shew that certain fundamental features of Pauline theology took effect afterwards in an original way, or received independent parallels, and because they prove that the cosmic Christology of Paul made the greatest impression and was continued. In Christology, the epistle to the Ephesians in particular, leads directly from Paul to the pneumatic Christology of the post-apostolic period. Its non-genuineness is by no means certain to me.] [Footnote 92: In the Ztschr. für Theol und Kirche, II. p. 189 ff. I have discussed the relation of the prologue of the fourth Gospel to the whole work and endeavoured to prove the following: "The prologue of the Gospel is not the key to its comprehension. It begins with a well-known great object, the Logos, re-adapts and transforms it--implicitly opposing false Christologies--in order to substitute for it Jesus Christ, the [Greek: monogenês theos], or in order to unveil it as this Jesus Christ. The idea of the Logos is allowed to fall from the moment that this takes place." The author continues to narrate of Jesus only with the view of establishing the belief that he is the Messiah, the son of God. This faith has for its main article the recognition that Jesus is descended from God and from heaven; but the author is far from endeavouring to work out this recognition from cosmological, philosophical considerations. According to the Evangelist, Jesus proves himself to be the Messiah, the Son of God, in virtue of his self-testimony, and because he has brought a full knowledge of God and of life--purely supernatural divine blessings (Cf. besides, and partly in opposition, Holtzmann, i.d. Ztschr. f. wissensch. Theol. 1893). The author's peculiar world of theological ideas, is not, however, so entirely isolated in the early Christian literature as appears on the first impression. If, as is probable, the Ignatian Epistles are independent of the Gospel of John, further, the Supper prayer in the Didache, finally, certain mystic theological phrases in the Epistle of Barnabas, in the second epistle of Clement, and in Hermas, a complex of Theologoumena may be put together, which reaches back to the primitive period of the Church, and may be conceived as the general ground for the theology of John. This complex has on its side a close connection with the final development of the Jewish Hagiographic literature under Greek influence.] [Footnote 93: The Jewish religion, especially since the (relative) close of the canon, had become more and more a religion of the Book.] [Footnote 94: Examples of both in the New Testament are numerous. See, above all, Matt. I. 11. Even the belief that Jesus was born of a Virgin sprang from Isaiah VII. 14. It cannot, however, be proved to be in the writings of Paul (the two genealogies in Matt. and Luke directly exclude it: according to Dillmann, Jahrb. f. protest. Theol. p. 192 ff. Luke I. 34, 35 would be the addition of a redactor); but it must have arisen very early, as the Gentile Christians of the second century would seem to have unanimously confessed it (see the Romish Symbol, Ignatius, Aristides, Justin, etc.) For the rest, it was long before theologians recognised in the Virgin birth of Jesus more than fulfilment of a prophecy, viz., a fact of salvation. The conjecture of Usener, that the idea of the birth from a Virgin is a heathen myth which was received by the Christians, contradicts the entire earliest development of Christian tradition which is free from heathen myths, so far as these had not already been received by wide circles of Jews, (above all, certain Babylonian and Persian Myths), which in the case of that idea is not demonstrable. Besides, it is in point of method not permissible to stray so far when we have near at hand such a complete explanation as Isaiah VII. 14. Those who suppose that the reality of the Virgin birth must be held fast, must assume that a misunderstood prophecy has been here fulfilled (on the true meaning of the passage see Dillmann (Jesajas, 5 Aufl. p. 69): "of the birth by a Virgin (i.e., of one who at the birth was still a Virgin.) the Hebrew text says nothing ... Immanuel as beginning and representative of the new generation, from which one should finally take possession of the king's throne"). The application of an unhistorical local method in the exposition of the Old Testament--Haggada and Rabbinic allegorism--may be found in many passages of Paul (see, e.g., Gal. III. 16, 19; IV. 22-31; 1 Cor. IX. 9; X. 4; XI. 10; Rom. IV. etc.).] [Footnote 95: The proof of this may be found in the quotations in early Christian writings from the Apocalypses of Enoch, Ezra, Eldad and Modad, the assumption of Moses and other Jewish Apocalypses unknown to us. They were regarded as Divine revelations beside the Old Testament; see the proofs of their frequent and long continued use in Schürer's "History of the Jewish people in the time of our Lord." But the Christians in receiving these Jewish Apocalypses did not leave them intact, but adapted them with greater or less Christian additions (see Ezra, Enoch, Ascension of Isaiah). Even the Apocalypse of John is, as Vischer (Texte u. Unters. 3 altchristl. lit. Gesch. Bd. II. H. 4) has shown, a Jewish Apocalypse adapted to a Christian meaning. But in this activity, and in the production of little Apocalyptic prophetic sayings and articles (see in the Epistle to the Ephesians, and in those of Barnabas and Clement) the Christian labour here in the earliest period seems to have exhausted itself. At least we do not know with certainty of any great Apocalyptic writing of an original kind proceeding from Christian circles. Even the Apocalypse of Peter which, thanks to the discovery of Bouriant, we now know better, is not a completely original work as contrasted with the Jewish Apocalypses.] [Footnote 96: The Gospel reliance on the Lamb who was slain, very significantly pervades the Revelation of John, that is, its Christian parts. Even the Apocalypse of Peter shews Jesus Christ as the comfort of believers and as the Revealer of the future. In it (v. 3,) Christ says; "Then will God come to those who believe on me, those who hunger and thirst and mourn, etc."] [Footnote 97: These words were written before the Apocalypse of Peter was discovered. That Apocalypse confirms what is said in the text. Moreover, its delineation of Paradise and blessedness are not wanting in poetic charm and power. In its delineation of Hell, which prepares the way for Dante's Hell, the author is scared by no terror.] [Footnote 98: These ideas, however, encircled the earliest Christendom as with a wall of fire, and preserved it from a too early contact with the world.] [Footnote 99: An accurate examination of the eschatological sayings of Jesus in the synoptists shews that much foreign matter is mixed with them (see Weiffenbach, Der Wiederkunftsgedanke Jesu, 1875). That the tradition here was very uncertain because influenced by the Jewish Apocalyptic, is shewn by the one fact that Papias (in Iren. V. 33) quotes as words of the Lord which had been handed down by the disciples, a group of sayings which we find in the Apocalypse of Baruch, about the amazing fruitfulness of the earth during the time of the Messianic Kingdom.] [Footnote 100: We may here call attention to an interesting remark of Goethe. Among his Apophthegms (no. 537) is the following: "Apocrypha: It would be important to collect what is historically known about these books, and to shew that these very Apocryphal writings with which the communities of the first centuries of our era were flooded, were the real cause why Christianity at no moment of political or Church history could stand forth in all her beauty and purity." A historian would not express himself in this way, but yet there lies at the root of this remark a true historical insight.] [Footnote 101: See Schürer, History of the Jewish people. Div. II. vol. II. p. 160 f., yet the remarks of the Jew Trypho in the dialogue of Justin shew that the notions of a pre-existent Messiah were by no means very widely spread in Judaism. (See also Orig. c. Cels. I. 49: "A Jew would not at all admit that any Prophet had said, the Son of God will come: they avoided this designation and used instead the saying: the anointed of God will come"). The Apocalyptists and Rabbis attributed pre-existence, that is, a heavenly origin to many sacred things and persons, such as the Patriarchs, Moses, the Tabernacle, the Temple vessels, the city of Jerusalem. That the true Temple and the real Jerusalem were with God in heaven and would come down from heaven at the appointed time, must have been a very wide-spread idea, especially at the time of the destruction of Jerusalem, and even earlier than that (see Gal. IV. 26; Rev. XXI. 2; Heb. XII. 22). In the Assumption of Moses (c. 1) Moses says of himself: Dominus invenit me, qui ab initio orbis terrarum præparatus sum, ut sim arbiter ([Greek: mesitês]) testamenti illius ([Greek: tês diathêkês autou]). In the Midrasch Bereschith rabba VIII. 2. we read, "R. Simeon ben Lakisch says, 'The law was in existence 2000 years before the creation of the world.'" In the Jewish treatise [Greek: Proseuchê Iôsêph], which Origen has several times quoted, Jacob says of himself (ap. Orig. tom. II. in Joann. C. 25. Opp. IV. 84): "[Greek: ho gar lalôn pros humas, egô Iakôb kai Isrêl, angelos theou eimi egô kai pneuma archikon kai Abraam kai Isaak proektisthêsan pro pantos ergou, egô de Iakob ... egô prôtogonos pantos zôos zôoumenou hupo theou]." These examples could easily be increased. The Jewish speculations about Angels and Mediators, which at the time of Christ grew very luxuriantly among the Scribes and Apocalyptists, and endangered the purity and vitality of the Old Testament idea of God, were also very important for the development of Christian dogmatics. But neither these speculations, nor the notions of heavenly Archetypes, nor of pre-existence, are to be referred to Hellenic influence. This may have co-operated here and there, but the rise of these speculations in Judaism is not to be explained by it; they rather exhibit the Oriental stamp. But, of course, the stage in the development of the nations had now been reached, in which the creations of Oriental fancy and Mythology could be fused with the ideal conceptions of Hellenic philosophy.] [Footnote 102: The conception of heavenly ideals of precious earthly things followed from the first naive method of speculation we have mentioned, that of a pre-existence of persons from the last. If the world was created for the sake of the people of Israel, and the Apocalyptists expressly taught that, then it follows, that in the thought of God Israel was older than the world. The idea of a kind of pre-existence of the people of Israel follows from this. We can still see this process of thought very plainly in the shepherd of Hermas, who expressly declares that the world was created for the sake of the Church. In consequence of this he maintains that the Church was very old, and was created before the foundation of the world. See Vis. I. 2. 4; II. 4. 1 [Greek: Diati oun presbutera] (scil.) [Greek: hê ekklêsia: Hoti, phêsin, pantôn prôte ektisthê dia touto presbutera, kai dia tautên ho kosmos katêrtisthê]. But in order to estimate aright the bearing of these speculations, we must observe that, according to them, the precious things and persons, so far as they are now really manifested, were never conceived as endowed with a double nature. No hint is given of such an assumption; the sensible appearance was rather conceived as a mere wrapping which was necessary only to its becoming visible, or, conversely, the pre-existence or the archetype was no longer thought of in presence of the historical appearance of the object. That pneumatic form of existence was not set forth in accordance with the analogy of existence verified by sense, but was left in suspense. The idea of "existence" here could run through all the stages which, according to the Mythology and Meta-physic of the time, lay between what we now call "valid," and the most concrete being. He who nowadays undertakes to justify the notion of pre-existence, will find himself in a very different situation from these earlier times, as he will no longer be able to count on shifting conceptions of existence. See Appendix I. at the end of this Vol. for a fuller discussion of the idea of pre-existence.] [Footnote 103: It must be observed here that Palestinian Judaism, without any apparent influence from Alexandria, though not independently of the Greek spirit, had already created a multitude of intermediate beings between God and the world, avowing thereby that the idea of God had become stiff and rigid. "Its original aim was simply to help the God of Judaism in his need." Among these intermediate beings should be specially mentioned the Memra of God (see also the Shechina and the Metatron).] [Footnote 104: See Justin Dial. 48. fin: Justin certainly is not favourably disposed towards those who regard Christ as a "man among men," but he knows that there are such people.] [Footnote 105: The miraculous genesis of Christ in the Virgin by the Holy Spirit and the real pre-existence are of course mutually exclusive. At a later period, it is true, it became necessary to unite them in thought.] [Footnote 106: There is the less need for treating this more fully here, as no New Testament Christology has become the direct starting-point of later doctrinal developments. The Gentile Christians had transmitted to them, as a unanimous doctrine, the message that Christ is the Lord who is to be worshipped, and that one must think of him as the Judge of the living and the dead, that is, [Greek: hôs peri theou]. But it certainly could not fail to be of importance for the result that already many of the earliest Christian writers, and therefore even Paul, perceived in Jesus a spiritual being come down from heaven ([Greek: pneuma]) who was [Greek: en morphê theou], and whose real act of love consisted in his very descent.] [Footnote 107: The creation of the New Testament canon first paved the way for putting an end, though only in part, to the production of Evangelic "facts" within the Church. For Hermas (Sim. IX. 16) can relate that the Apostles also descended to the under world and there preached. Others report the same of John the Baptist. Origen in his homily on 1 Kings XXVII. says that Moses, Samuel and all the Prophets descended to Hades and there preached. A series of facts of Evangelic history which have no parallel in the accounts of our Synoptists, and are certainly legendary, may be put together from the epistle of Barnabas, Justin, the second epistle of Clement, Papias, the Gospel to the Hebrews, and the Gospel to the Egyptians. But the synoptic reports themselves, especially in the articles for which we have only a solitary witness, shew an extensive legendary material, and even in the Gospel of John, the free production of facts cannot be mistaken. Of what a curious nature some of these were, and that they are by no means to be entirely explained from the Old Testament, as for example, Justin's account of the ass on which Christ rode into Jerusalem, having been bound to a vine, is shewn by the very old fragment in one source of the Apostolic constitutions (Texte u. Unters II. 5. p. 28 ff.); [Greek: hote êtpsen ho didaskalos ton arton kai to potêrion kai êulogêsen auta legôn touto esti to sôma mou kai to haima, ouk epetrepse tautais] (the women) [Greek: sustênai hêmin ... Martha eipen dia Mariam, hoti eiden autên meidiôsan. Maria eipen ouketi egelasa]. Narratives such as those of Christ's descent to Hell and ascent to heaven, which arose comparatively late, though still at the close of the first century (see Book I. Chap 3) sprang out of short formulæ containing an antithesis (death and resurrection, first advent in lowliness, second advent in glory: descensus de coelo, ascensus in c[oe]lum; ascensus in coelum, descensus ad inferna) which appeared to be required by Old Testament predictions, and were commended by their naturalness. Just as it is still, in the same way naively inferred: if Christ rose bodily he must also have ascended bodily (visibly?) into heaven.] [Footnote 108: The Sibylline Oracles, composed by Jews, from 160 B.C. to 189 A.D. are specially instructive here: See the Editions of Friedlieb. 1852; Alexandre, 1869; Rzach, 1891. Delaunay, Moines et Sibylles dans l'antiquité judéo-grecque, 1874. Schürer in the work mentioned above. The writings of Josephus also yield rich booty, especially his apology for Judaism in the two books against Apion. But it must be noted that there were Jews, enlightened by Hellenism, who were still very zealous in their observance of the law. "Philo urges most earnestly to the observance of the law in opposition to that party which drew the extreme inferences of the allegoristic method, and put aside the outer legality as something not essential for the spiritual life. Philo thinks that by an exact observance of these ceremonies on their material side, one will also come to know better their symbolical meaning" (Siegfried, Philo, p. 157).] [Footnote 109: Direct evidence is certainly almost entirely wanting here, but the indirect speaks all the more emphatically: see § 3, Supplements 1, 2.] [Footnote 110: The Jewish propaganda, though by no means effaced, gave way very distinctly to the Christian from the middle of the second century. But from this time we find few more traces of an enlightened Hellenistic Judaism. Moreover, the Messianic expectation also seems to have somewhat given way to occupation with the law. But the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, as well as other Jewish terms certainly played a great rôle in Gentile and Gnostic magical formulæ of the third century, as may be seen, e.g., from many passages in Origen c. Celsum.] [Footnote 111: The prerogative of Israel was for all that clung to; Israel remains the chosen people.] [Footnote 112: The brilliant investigations of Bernays, however, have shewn how many-sided that philosophy of religion was. The proofs of asceticism in this Hellenistic Judaism are especially of great interest for the history of dogma (See Theophrastus' treatise on piety). In the eighth Epistle of Heraclitus, composed by a Hellenistic Jew in the first century, it is said (Bernays, p. 182). "So long a time before, O Hermodorus, saw thee that Sibyl, and even then thou wert" [Greek: eide se pro posoutou aiônos, Ermodôre hê Sibulla ekeinê, kai tote êstha]. Even here then the notion is expressed that foreknowledge and predestination invest the known and the determined with a kind of existence. Of great importance is the fact that even before Philo, the idea of the wisdom of God creating the world and passing over to men had been hypostatised in Alexandrian Judaism (see Sirach, Baruch, the wisdom of Solomon, Enoch, nay, even the book of Proverbs). But so long as the deutero-canonical Old Testament, and also the Alexandrine and Apocalyptic literature continue in the sad condition in which they are at present, we can form no certain judgment and draw no decided conclusions on the subject. When will the scholar appear who will at length throw light on these writings, and therewith on the section of inner Jewish history most interesting to the Christian theologian? As yet we have only a most thankworthy preliminary study in Schürer's great work, and beside it particular or dilettante attempts which hardly shew what the problem really is, far less solve it. What disclosures even the fourth book of the Maccabees alone yields for the connection of the Old Testament with Hellenism!] [Footnote 113: "So far as the sensible world is a work of the Logos, it is called [Greek: neôteros huios] (quod deus immut. 6. I.277), or according to Prov. VIII. 22, an offspring of God and wisdom: [Greek: hê de paradexamêne to tou theou sperma telesphorois ôdisi ton monon kai agapêton aisthêton huion apekuêse ton de ton kosmon] (de ebriet 8 I. 361 f). So far as the Logos is High Priest his relation to the world is symbolically expressed by the garment of the High Priest, to which exegesis the play on the word [Greek: kosmos], as meaning both ornament and world, lent its aid." This speculation (see Siegfried. Philo, 235) is of special importance; for it shews how closely the ideas [Greek: cosmos] and [Greek: logos] were connected.] [Footnote 114: Of all the Greek Philosophers of the second century, Plutarch of Chäronea, died c. 125 A.D., and Numenius of Apamea, second half of the second century, approach nearest to Philo; but the latter of the two was undoubtedly familiar with Jewish philosophy, specially with Philo, and probably also with Christian writings.] [Footnote 115: As to the way in which Philo (see also 4 Maccab. V. 24) learned to connect the Stoic ethics with the authority of the Torah, as was also done by the Palestinian Midrash, and represented the Torah as the foundation of the world, and therewith as the law of nature: see Siegfried, Philo, p. 156.] [Footnote 116: Philo by his exhortations to seek the blessed life, has by no means broken with the intellectualism of the Greek philosophy, he has only gone beyond it. The way of knowledge and speculation is to him also the way of religion and morality. But his formal principle is supernatural and leads to a supernatural knowledge which finally passes over into sight.] [Footnote 117: But everything was now ready for this synthesis so that it could be, and immediately was, completed by Christian philosophers.] [Footnote 118: We cannot discover Philo's influence in the writings of Paul. But here again we must remember that the scripture learning of Palestinian teachers developed speculations which appear closely related to the Alexandrian, and partly are so, but yet cannot be deduced from them. The element common to them must, for the present at least, be deduced from the harmony of conditions in which the different nations of the East were at that time placed, a harmony which we cannot exactly measure.] [Footnote 119: The conception of God's relation to the world as given in the fourth Gospel is not Philonic. The Logos doctrine there is therefore essentially not that of Philo (against Kuenen and others. See p. 93).] [Footnote 120: Siegfried (Philo. p. 160-197) has presented in detail Philo's allegorical interpretation of scripture, his hermeneutic principles and their application. Without an exact knowledge of these principles we cannot understand the Scripture expositions of the Fathers, and therefore also cannot do them justice.] [Footnote 121: See Siegfried, Philo. p. 176. Yet, as a rule, the method of isolating and adapting passages of scripture, and the method of unlimited combination were sufficient.] [Footnote 122: Numerous examples of this may be found in the epistle of Barnabas (see c. 4-9), and in the dialogue of Justin with Trypho (here they are objects of controversy, see cc. 71-73, 120), but also in many other Christian writings, (e.g., Clem. ad. Cor. VIII. 3; XVII. 6; XXIII. 3, 4; XXVI. 5; XLVI. 2; 2 Clem. XIII. 2). These Christian additions were long retained in the Latin Bible, (see also Lactantius and other Latins: Pseudo-Cyprian de aleat. 2 etc.), the most celebrated of them is the addition "a ligno" to "dominus regnavit" in Psalm XCVI., see Credner, Beiträge II. The treatment of the Old Testament in the epistle of Barnabas is specially instructive, and exhibits the greatest formal agreement with that of Philo. We may close here with the words in which Siegfried sums up his judgment on Philo. "No Jewish writer has contributed so much as Philo to the breaking up of particularism, and the dissolution of Judaism. The history of his people, though he believed in it literally, was in its main points a didactic allegoric poem for enabling him to inculcate the doctrine that man attains the vision of God by mortification of the flesh. The law was regarded by him as the best guide to this, but it had lost its exclusive value, as it was admitted to be possible to reach the goal without it, and it had, besides, its aim outside itself. The God of Philo was no longer the old living God of Israel, but an imaginary being who, to obtain power over the world, needed a Logos by whom the palladium of Israel, the unity of God, was taken a prey. So Israel lost everything which had hitherto characterised her."] [Footnote 123: Proofs in Friedländer, Sittengeschichte, vol. 3.] [Footnote 124: See the chapter on belief in immortality in Friedländer. Sittengesch. Roms. Bde. 3. Among the numerous mysteries known to us, that of Mythras deserves special consideration. From the middle of the second century the Church Fathers saw in it, above all, the caricature of the Church. The worship of Mithras had its redeemer, its mediator, hierarchy, sacrifice, baptism and sacred meal. The ideas of expiation, immortality, and the Redeemer God, were very vividly present in this cult, which of course, in later times, borrowed much from Christianity: see the accounts of Marquardt, Réville, and the Essay of Sayous, Le Taurobole in the Rev. de l'Hist. des Religions, 1887, where the earliest literature is also utilised. The worship of Mithras in the third century became the most powerful rival of Christianity. In connection with this should be specially noted the cult of Æsculapius, the God who helps the body and the soul; see my essay "Medicinisches aus der ältesten Kirchengeschichte," 1892. p. 93 ff.] [Footnote 125: Hence the wide prevalence of the cult of Æsculapius.] [Footnote 126: Dominus in certain circumstances means more than deus; see Tertull. Apol. It signifies more than Soter: see Irenæus I. 1. 3: [Greek: ton sôtêra legousin, oude gar kurion onomazein auton thelousin--kurios] and [Greek: despotês] are almost synonymous. See Philo. Quis. rer. div. heres. 6: [Greek: sunônuma tauta einai legetai].] [Footnote 127: We must give special attention here to the variability and elasticity of the concept [Greek: theos], and indeed among the cultured as well as the uncultured (Orig. prolegg. in Psalm, in Pitra, Anal. T. II. p. 437, according to a Stoic source; [Greek: kat' allon de tropon legesthai theon zôion athanaton logikon opoudaion, hôste pasan asteian psychên theon huparchein, kan periechêtai, allôs de legesthai theon to kath' auto on zôion athanaton hôs ta en anthrôpois periechomenas psychas mê huparchein theous]). They still regarded the Gods as passionless, blessed men living for ever. The idea therefore of a [Greek: theopoiêsis], and on the other hand, the idea of the appearance of the Gods in human form presented no difficulty (see Acts XIV. 11; XXVIII. 6). But philosophic speculation--the Platonic, as well as in yet greater measure the Stoic, and in the greatest measure of all the Cynic--had led to the recognition of something divine in man's spirit ([Greek: pneuma, nous]). Marcus Aurelius in his Meditations frequently speaks of the God who dwells in us. Clement of Alexandria (Strom. VI. 14. 113) says: [Greek: houtôs dunamin labousa kuriakên hê psychê meletai einai theos, kakon men ouden allo plên agnoias einai nomizousa.] In Bernays' Heraclitian Epistles, pp. 37 f. 135 f., will be found a valuable exposition of the Stoic (Heraclitian) thesis and its history, that men are Gods. See Norden, Beiträge zur Gesch. d. griech. Philos. Jahrb. f. klass Philol. XIX. Suppl. Bd. p. 373 ff., about the Cynic Philosopher who, contemplating the life and activity of man ([Greek: kataskopos]), becomes its [Greek: episkopos], and further [Greek: kurios, angelos theou, theos en anthrôpois]. The passages which he adduces are of importance for the history of dogma in a twofold respect. (1) They present remarkable parallels to Christology (one even finds the designations, [Greek: kurios, angelos, kataskopos, episkopos, theos] associated with the philosophers as with Christ, e.g., in Justin; nay, the Cynics and Neoplatonics speak of [Greek: episkopoi daimones]); cf. also the remarkable narrative in Laertius VI. 102, concerning the Cynic Menedemus; [Greek: houtos, katha phêsin Hippobotos, eis tosos ton terateias êlasen, hôste Erinuos analabon schêma perieiei, legôn episkopos aphichthai ex Haidou tôn hamartomenon, hopôs palin katiôn tasta apangelloi tois ekei, daimosin.] (2) They also explain how the ecclesiastical [Greek: episkopoi] came to be so highly prized, inasmuch as these also were from a very early period regarded as mediators between God and man, and considered as [Greek: en anthrôpois theoi]. There were not a few who in the first and second centuries, appeared with the claim to be regarded as a God or an organ inspired and chosen by God (Simon Magus [cf. the manner of his treatment in Hippol. Philos. VI. 8: see also Clem. Hom. II. 27], Apollonius of Tyana (?), see further Tacitus Hist. II. 51: "Mariccus.... iamque adsertor Galliarum et deus, nomen id sibi indiderat"; here belongs also the gradually developing worship of the Emperor: "dominus ac deus noster." cf. Augustus, Inscription of the year 25; 24 B.C. in Egypt [where the Ptolemies were for long described as Gods] [Greek: Huper Kaisaros Autokrattoros theou] (Zeitschrift fur Aegypt. Sprache. XXXI Bd. p. 3). Domitian: [Greek: theos Adrianos], Kaibel Inscr. Gr. 829. 1053. [Greek: theos Seouêros Eusebês]. 1061--the Antinouscult with its prophets. See also Josephus on Herod Agrippa. Antiq. XIX 8. 2. (Euseb. H. E. II. 10). The flatterers said to him, [Greek: theon prosagoreuontes; ei kai mechri nun hôs anthrôpon ephobêthêmen, alla tounteuthen kreittona se thnêtês tês phuseôs homologoumen.] Herod himself, § 7, says to his friends in his sickness: [Greek: ho theos humin egô êdê katastrephein epitattomai ton bion ... ho klêtheis athanatos huph' hêmôn êdê thanein apagomai]). On the other hand, we must mention the worship of the founder in some philosophic schools, especially among the Epicureans Epictetus says (Moral. 15), Diogenes and Heraclitus and those like them are justly called Gods. Very instructive in this connection are the reproaches of the heathen against the Christians, and of Christian partisans against one another with regard to the almost divine veneration of their teachers. Lucian (Peregr. II) reproaches the Christians in Syria for having regarded Peregrinus as a God and a new Socrates. The heathen in Smyrna, after the burning of Polycarp, feared that the Christians would begin to pay him divine honours (Euseb. H. E. IV. 15 41). Cæcilius in Minucius Felix speaks of divine honours being paid by Christians to priests (Octav. IX. 10). The Antimontanist (Euseb. H. E. V. 18. 6) asserts that the Montanists worship their prophet and Alexander the Confessor as divine. The opponents of the Roman Adoptians (Euseb. H. E. V. 28) reproach them with praying to Galen. There are many passages in which the Gnostics are reproached with paying Divine honours to the heads of their schools, and for many Gnostic schools (the Carpocratians, for example) the reproach seems to have been just. All this is extremely instructive. The genius, the hero, the founder of a new school who promises to shew the certain way to the _vita beata_, the emperor, the philosopher (numerous Stoic passages might be noted here) finally, man, in so far as he is inhabited by [Greek: nous]--could all somehow be considered as [Greek: theoi], so elastic was this concept. All these instances of Apotheosis in no way endangered the Monotheism which had been developed from the mixture of Gods and from philosophy; for the one supreme Godhead can unfold his inexhaustible essence in a variety of existences, which, while his creatures as to their origin, are parts of his essence as to their contents. This Monotheism does not yet exactly disclaim its Polytheistic origin. The Christian, Hermas, says to his Mistress (Vis. I 1. 7) [Greek: ou pantote se hôs thean hegêsamên], and the author of the Epistle of Diognetus writes (X. 6), [Greek: tauta tois epideomenois chorêgôn], (i.e., the rich man) [Greek: theos ginetai tôn lambanontôn]. That the concept [Greek: theos] was again used only of one God, was due to the fact that one now started from the definition "qui vitam æternam habet," and again from the definition "qui est super omnia et originem nescit." From the latter followed the absolute unity of God, from the former a plurality of Gods. Both could be so harmonised (see Tertull. adv. Prax. and Novat. de Trinit.) that one could assume that the God, _qui est super omnia_, might allow his monarchy to be administered by several persons, and might dispense the gift of immortality and with it a relative divinity.] [Footnote 128: See the so-called Neopythagorean philosophers and the so-called forerunners of Neoplatonism (Cf. Bigg, The Platonists of Alexandria, p. 250, as to Numenius). Unfortunately, we have as yet no sufficient investigation of the question what influence, if any, the Jewish Alexandrian Philosophy of religion had on the development of Greek philosophy in the second and third centuries. The answering of the question would be of the greatest importance. But at present it cannot even be said whether the Jewish philosophy of religion had any influence on the genesis of Neoplatonism. On the relation of Neoplatonism to Christianity and their mutual approximation, see the excellent account in Tzschirner, Fall des Heidenthums, pp. 574-618. Cf. also Réville, La Religion à Rome, 1886.] [Footnote 129: The Christians, that is the Christian preachers, were most in agreement with the Cynics (see Lucian's Peregrinus Proteus), both on the negative and on the positive side; but for that very reason they were hard on one another (Justin and Tatian against Crescens)--not only because the Christians gave a different basis for the right mode of life from the Cynics, but above all, because they did not approve of the self-conscious, contemptuous, proud disposition which Cynicism produced in many of its adherents. Morality frequently underwent change for the worse in the hands of Cynics, and became the morality of a "Gentleman," such as we have also experience of in modern Cynicism.] [Footnote 130: The attitude of Celsus, the opponent of the Christians, is specially instructive here.] [Footnote 131: For the knowledge of the spread of the idealistic philosophy the statement of Origen (c. Celsum VI. 2) that Epictetus was admired not only by scholars, but also by ordinary people who felt in themselves the impulse to be raised to something higher, is well worthy of notice.] [Footnote 132: This point was of importance for the propaganda of Christianity among the cultured. There seemed to be given here a reliable, because revealed, Cosmology and history of the world--which already contained the foundation of everything worth knowing. Both were needed and both were here set forth in closest union.] [Footnote 133: The universalism as reached by the Stoics is certainly again threatened by the self-righteous and self-complacent distinction between men of virtue, and men of pleasure, who, properly speaking, are not men. Aristotle had already dealt with the virtuous élite in a notable way. He says (Polit. 3. 13. p. 1284), that men who are distinguished by perfect virtue should not be put on a level with the ordinary mass, and should not be subjected to the constraints of a law adapted to the average man. "There is no law for these elect, who are a law to themselves."] [Footnote 134: Notions of pre-existence were readily suggested by the Platonic philosophy; yet this whole philosophy rests on the fact that one again posits the thing (after stripping it of certain marks as accidental, or worthless, or ostensibly foreign to it) in order to express its value in this form, and hold fast the permanent in the change of the phenomena.] [Footnote 135: See Tzschirn. i.d. Ztschr. f. K.-Gesch. XII. p. 215 ff. "The genesis of the Romish Church in the second century." What he presents is no doubt partly incomplete, partly overdone and not proved: yet much of what he states is useful.] [Footnote 136: What is meant here is the imminent danger of taking the several constituent parts of the canon, even for historical investigation, as constituent parts, that is, of explaining one writing by the standard of another and so creating an artificial unity. The contents of any of Paul's epistles, for example, will be presented very differently if it is considered by itself and in the circumstances in which it was written, or if attention is fixed on it as part of a collection whose unity is presupposed.] [Footnote 137: See Bigg, The Christian Platonist of Alexandria, pp. 53, 283 ff.] [Footnote 138: Reuter (August. Studien, p. 492) has drawn a valuable parallel between Marcion and Augustine with regard to Paul.] [Footnote 139: Marcion of course wished to raise it to the exclusive basis, but he entirely misunderstood it.] DIVISION I. THE GENESIS OF THE ECCLESIASTICAL DOGMA, OR THE GENESIS OF THE CATHOLIC APOSTOLIC DOGMATIC THEOLOGY, AND THE FIRST SCIENTIFIC ECCLESIASTICAL SYSTEM OF DOCTRINE. BOOK I. THE PREPARATION. [Greek: Ean murious paidagôgous echête en christôi all' ou pollous pateras.] 1 Cor IV. 15. Eine jede Idee tritt als ein fremder Gast in die Erscheinung, und wie sie sich zu realisiren beginnt, ist sie kaum von Phantasie und Phantasterei zu unterscheiden. GOETHE, Sprüche in Prosa, 566 BOOK I _THE PREPARATION_ CHAPTER I HISTORICAL SURVEY The first century of the existence of Gentile Christian communities is particularly characterised by the following features: I. The rapid disappearance of Jewish Christianity.[140] II. The enthusiastic character of the religious temper; the Charismatic teachers and the appeal to the Spirit.[141] III. The strength of the hopes for the future, Chiliasm.[142] IV. The rigorous endeavour to fulfil the moral precepts of Christ, and truly represent the holy and heavenly community of God in abstinence from everything unclean, and in love to God and the brethren here on earth "in these last days."[143] V. The want of a fixed doctrinal form in relation to the abstract statement of the faith, and the corresponding variety and freedom of Christian preaching on the basis of clear formulæ and an increasingly rich tradition. VI. The want of a clearly defined external authority in the communities, sure in its application, and the corresponding independence and freedom of the individual Christian in relation to the expression of the ideas, beliefs and hopes of faith.[144] VII. The want of a fixed political union of the several communities with each other--every _ecclesia_ is an image complete in itself, and an embodiment of the whole heavenly Church--while the consciousness of the unity of the holy Church of Christ which has the spirit in its midst, found strong expression.[145] VIII. A quite unique literature in which were manufactured facts for the past and for the future, and which did not submit to the usual literary rules and forms, but came forward with the loftiest pretensions.[146] IX. The reproduction of particular sayings and arguments of Apostolic Teachers with an uncertain understanding of them.[147] X. The rise of tendencies which endeavoured to hasten in every respect the inevitable process of fusing the Gospel with the spiritual and religious interests of the time, viz., the Hellenic, as well as attempts to separate the Gospel from its origins and provide for it quite foreign presuppositions. To the latter belongs, above all, the Hellenic idea that knowledge is not a charismatic supplement to the faith, or an outgrowth of faith alongside of others, but that it coincides with the essence of faith itself.[148] The sources for this period are few, as there was not much written, and the following period did not lay itself out for preserving a great part of the literary monuments of that epoch. Still we do possess a considerable number of writings and important fragments,[149] and further important inferences here are rendered possible by the monuments of the following period, since the conditions of the first century were not changed in a moment, but were partly, at least, long preserved, especially in certain national Churches and in remote communities.[150] _Supplement._--The main features of the message concerning Christ, of the matter of the Evangelic history, were fixed in the first and second generations of believers, and on Palestinian soil. But yet, up to the middle of the second century, this matter was in many ways increased in Gentile Christian regions, revised from new points of view, handed down in very diverse forms, and systematically allegorised by individual teachers. As a whole, the Evangelic history certainly appears to have been completed at the beginning of the second century. But in detail, much that was new was produced at a later period--and not only in Gnostic circles--and the old tradition was recast or rejected.[151] [Footnote 140: This fact must have been apparent as early as the year 100. The first direct evidence of it is in Justin (Apol. I. 53).] [Footnote 141: Every individual was, or at least should have been conscious, as a Christian, of having received the [Greek: pneuma theou], though that does not exclude spiritual grades. A special peculiarity of the enthusiastic nature of the religious temper is that it does not allow reflection as to the authenticity of the faith in which a man lives. As to the Charismatic teaching, see my edition of the Didache (Texte u Unters. II 1. 2 p. 93 ff.).] [Footnote 142: The hope of the approaching end of the world and the glorious kingdom of Christ still determined men's hearts; though exhortations against theoretical and practical scepticism became more and more necessary. On the other hand, after the Epistles to the Thessalonians, there were not wanting exhortations to continue sober and diligent.] [Footnote 143: There was a strong consciousness that the Christian Church is, above all, a union for a holy life, as well as a consciousness of the obligation to help one another, and use all the blessings bestowed by God in the service of our neighbours. Justin (2 Apol. in Euseb. H. E. IV. 17. 10) calls Christianity [Greek: to didaskalion tes theias aretes].] [Footnote 144: The existing authorities (Old Testament, sayings of the Lord, words of Apostles) did not necessarily require to be taken into account; for the living acting Spirit, partly attesting himself also to the senses, gave new revelations. The validity of these authorities therefore held good only in theory, and might in practice be completely set aside (cf. above all, the Shepherd of Hermas).] [Footnote 145: Zahn remarks (Ignatius, v. A. p. VII.): "I do not believe it to be the business of that province of historical investigation which is dependent on the writings of the so-called Apostolic Fathers as main sources, to explain the origin of the universal Church in any sense of the term; for that Church existed before Clement and Hermas, before Ignatius and Polycarp. But an explanatory answer is needed for the question, by what means did the consciousness of the 'universal Church' so little favoured by outer circumstances, maintain itself unbroken in the post-Apostolic communities?" This way of stating it obscures, at least, the problem which here lies before us, for it does not take account of the changes which the idea "universal Church" underwent up to the middle of the third century--besides, we do not find the title before Ignatius. In so far as the "universal Church" is set forth as an earthly power recognisable in a doctrine or in political forms, the question as to the origin of the idea is not only allowable, but must be regarded as one of the most important. On the earliest conception of the "Ecclesia" and its realisation, see the fine investigations of Sohm "Kirchenrecht," I. p. i ff., which, however, suffer from being a little overdriven.] [Footnote 146: See the important essay of Overbeck: Ueber die Anfänge d. patrist. Litteratur (Hist. Ztschr. N. F. Bd. XII pp. 417-472). Early Christian literature, as a rule, claims to be inspired writing. One can see, for example, in the history of the resurrection in the recently discovered Gospel of Peter (fragment) how facts were remodelled or created.] [Footnote 147: The writings of men of the Apostolic period, and that immediately succeeding, attained in part a wide circulation, and in some portions of them, often of course incorrectly understood, very great influence. How rapidly this literature was diffused, even the letters, may be studied in the history of the Epistles of Paul, the first Epistle of Clement, and other writings.] [Footnote 148: That which is here mentioned is of the greatest importance; it is not a mere reference to the so-called Gnostics. The foundations for the Hellenising of the Gospel in the Church were already laid in the first century (50-150).] [Footnote 149: We should not over-estimate the extent of early Christian literature. It is very probable that we know, so far as the titles of books are concerned, nearly all that was effective, and the greater part, by very diverse means, has also been preserved to us. We except, of course, the so-called Gnostic literature of which we have only a few fragments. Only from the time of Commodus, as Eusebius, H. E. V. 21. 27, has remarked, did the great Church preserve an extensive literature.] [Footnote 150: It is therefore important to note the locality in which a document originates, and the more so the earlier the document is. In the earliest period, in which the history of the Church was more uniform, and the influence from without relatively less, the differences are still in the background. Yet the spirit of Rome already announces itself in the Epistle of Clement, that of Alexandria in the Epistle of Barnabas, that of the East in the Epistles of Ignatius.] [Footnote 151: The history of the genesis of the four Canonical Gospels, or the comparison of them, is instructive on this point. Then we must bear in mind the old Apocryphal Gospels, and the way in which the so-called Apostolic Fathers and Justin attest the Evangelic history, and in part reproduce it independently, the Gospels of Peter, of the Egyptians, and of Marcion; the Diatesseron of Tatian; the Gnostic Gospels and Acts of the Apostles, etc. The greatest gap in our knowledge consists in the fact, that we know so little about the course of things from about the year 61 to the beginning of the reign of Trajan. The consolidating and remodelling process must, for the most part, have taken place in this period. We possess probably not a few writings which belong to that period; but how are we to prove this, how are they to be arranged? Here lies the cause of most of the differences, combinations and uncertainties; many scholars, therefore, actually leave these 40 years out of account, and seek to place everything in the first three decennia of the second century.] CHAPTER II. THE ELEMENT COMMON TO ALL CHRISTIANS AND THE BREACH WITH JUDAISM On account of the great differences among those who, in the first century, reckoned themselves in the Church of God, and called themselves by the name of Christ,[152] it seems at first sight scarcely possible to set up marks which would hold good for all, or even for nearly all, the groups. Yet the great majority had one thing in common, as is proved, among other things, by the gradual expulsion of Gnosticism. The conviction that they knew the supreme God, the consciousness of being responsible to him (Heaven and Hell), reliance on Jesus Christ, the hope of an eternal life, the vigorous elevation above the world--these are the elements that formed the fundamental mood. The author of the Acts of Thecla expresses the general view when he (c. 5-7) co-ordinates [Greek: ton tou christou logon] with [Greek: logos theou peri enkateias, kai anastaseôs]. The following particulars may here be specified.[153] I. The Gospel, because it rests on revelation, is the sure manifestation of the supreme God, and its believing acceptance guarantees salvation ([Greek: sôteria]). II. The essential content of this manifestation (besides the revelation and the verification of the oneness and spirituality of God),[154] is, first of all, the message of the resurrection and eternal life ([Greek: anastasis zôê aiônios]), then the preaching of moral purity and continence ([Greek: enkrateia]), on the basis of repentance toward God ([Greek: metanoia]), and of an expiation once assured by baptism, with eye ever fixed on the requital of good and evil.[155] III. This manifestation is mediated by Jesus Christ, who is the Saviour ([Greek: sôtêr]) sent by God "in these last days," and who stands with God himself in a union special and unique, (cf. the ambiguous [Greek: pais theou], which was much used in the earliest period). He has brought the true and full knowledge of God, as well as the gift of immortality [Greek: gnôsis kai zôê], or [Greek: gnôsis tês zôês], as an expression for the sum of the Gospel. See the supper prayer in the Didache, c. IX. an X.; [Greek: eucharistoumen soi, pater hêmôn huper tês zôês kai gnôseôs hês egnôrisas hêmin dia Iêsou tou paidos sou], and is for that very reason the redeemer ([Greek: sôtêr] and victor over the demons) on whom we are to place believing trust. But he is, further, in word and walk the highest example of all moral virtue, and therefore in his own person the law for the perfect life, and at the same time the God-appointed lawgiver and judge.[156] IV. Virtue as continence, embraces as its highest task, renunciation of temporal goods and separation from the common world; for the Christian is not a citizen, but a stranger on the earth, and expects its approaching destruction.[157] V. Christ has committed to chosen men, the Apostles (or to one Apostle), the proclamation of the message he received from God; consequently, their preaching represents that of Christ himself. But, besides, the Spirit of God rules in Christians, "the Saints." He bestows upon them special gifts, and, above all, continually raises up among them Prophets and spiritual Teachers who receive revelations and communications for the edification of others, and whose injunctions are to be obeyed. VI. Christian Worship is a service of God in spirit and in truth (a spiritual sacrifice), and therefore has no legal ceremonial and statutory rules. The value of the sacred acts and consecrations which are connected with the cultus, consists in the communication of spiritual blessings. (Didache X., [Greek: hêmin de echarisô, despota, pneumatikên trophên kai poton kai zôên aiônion dia tou paidos sou]). VII. Everything that Jesus Christ brought with him, may be summed up in [Greek: gnôsis kai zôê], or in the knowledge of immortal life.[158] To possess the perfect knowledge was, in wide circles, an expression for the sum total of the Gospel.[159] VIII. Christians, as such, no longer take into account the distinctions of race, age, rank, nationality and worldly culture, but the Christian community must be conceived as a communion resting on a divine election. Opinions were divided about the ground of that election. IX. As Christianity is the only true religion, and as it is no national religion, but somehow concerns the whole of humanity, or its best part, it follows that it can have nothing in common with the Jewish nation and its contemporary cultus. The Jewish nation in which Jesus Christ appeared, has, for the time at least, no special relation to the God whom Jesus revealed. Whether it had such a relation at an earlier period is doubtful (cf. here, e.g., the attitude of Marcion, Ptolemæus the disciple of Valentinus, the author of the Epistle of Barnabas, Aristides and Justin); but certain it is that God has now cast it off, and that all revelations of God, so far as they took place at all before Christ, (the majority assumed that there had been such revelations and considered the Old Testament as a holy record), must have aimed solely at the call of the "new people", and in some way prepared for the revelation of God through his Son.[160] [Footnote 152: See, as to this, Celsus in Orig. III. 10 ff. and V. 59 ff.] [Footnote 153: The marks adduced in the text do not certainly hold good for some comparatively unimportant Gnostic groups, but they do apply to the great majority of them, and in the main to Marcion also.] [Footnote 154: Most of the Gnostic schools know only one God, and put all emphasis on the knowledge of the oneness, supramundaneness, and spirituality of this God. The Æons, the Demiurgus, the God of matter, do not come near this God though they are called Gods. See the testimony of Hippolytus c. Noet. 11; [Greek: kai gar pantes apekleisthêsan eis touto akontes eipein hoti to pan eis hena anatrechei ei oun ta panta eis hena anatrechei kai kata thualentinon kai kata Markiôna, Kêrinthon te kai pasan tên ekeinôn phluarian, kai akontes eis touto periepesan, hina ton hena homologêsôsin aition tôn pantôn houtôs oun suntrechousin kai autoi mê thelontes tê alêtheia hena theon legein poiêsanta hôs êthelêsen].] [Footnote 155: Continence was regarded as the condition laid down by God for the resurrection and eternal life. The sure hope of this was for many, if not for the majority, the whole sum of religion, in connection with the idea of the requital of good and evil which was now firmly established. See the testimony of the heathen Lucian, in Peregrinus Proteus.] [Footnote 156: Even where the judicial attributes were separated from God (Christ) as not suitable, Christ was still comprehended as the critical appearance by which every man is placed in the condition which belongs to him. The Apocalypse of Peter expects that God himself will come as Judge (see the Messianic expectations of Judaism, in which it was always uncertain whether God or the Messiah would hold the judgment).] [Footnote 157: Celsus (Orig. c. Celsum, V. 59) after referring to the many Christian parties mutually provoking and fighting with each other, remarks (V. 64) that though they differ much from each other, and quarrel with each other, you can yet hear from them all the protestation, "The world is crucified to me and I to the world." In the earliest Gentile Christian communities brotherly love for reflective thought falls into the background behind ascetic exercises of virtue, in unquestionable deviation from the sayings of Christ, but in fact it was powerful. See the testimony of Pliny and Lucian, Aristides, Apol. 15, Tertull Apol. 39.] [Footnote 158: The word "life" comes into consideration in a double sense, viz., as soundness of the soul, and as immortality. Neither, of course, is to be separated from the other. But I have attempted to shew in my essay, "Medicinisches aus der ältesten Kirchengesch" (1892), the extent to which the Gospel in the earliest Christendom was preached as medicine and Jesus as a Physician, and how the Christian Message was really comprehended by the Gentiles as a medicinal religion. Even the Stoic philosophy gave itself out as a soul therapeutic, and Æsculapius was worshipped as a Saviour-God; but Christianity alone was a religion of healing.] [Footnote 159: Heinrici, in his commentary on the epistles to the Corinthians, has dealt very clearly with this matter; see especially (Bd. II. p. 557 ff.) the description of the Christianity of the Corinthians: On what did the community base its Christian character? It believed in one God who had revealed himself to it through Christ, without denying the reality of the hosts of gods in the heathen world (1 VIII. 6). It hoped in immortality without being clear as to the nature of the Christian belief in the resurrection (1 XV.) It had no doubt as to the requital of good and evil (1 IV. 5; 2 V. 10; XI. 15: Rom. II. 4), without understanding the value of self-denial, claiming no merit, for the sake of important ends. It was striving to make use of the Gospel as a new doctrine of wisdom about earthly and super-earthly things, which led to the perfect and best established knowledge (1 I. 21: VIII. 1). It boasted of special operations of the Divine Spirit, which in themselves remained obscure and non-transparent, and therefore unfruitful (1 XIV.), while it was prompt to put aside as obscure, the word of the Cross as preached by Paul (2. IV. 1 f). The hope of the near Parousia, however, and the completion of all things, evinced no power to effect a moral transformation of society We herewith obtain the outline of a conviction that was spread over the widest circles of the Roman Empire "Naturam si expellas furca, tamen usque recurret."] [Footnote 160: Nearly all Gentile Christian groups that we know, are at one in the detachment of Christianity from empiric Judaism; the "Gnostics," however, included the Old Testament in Judaism, while the greater part of Christians did not. That detachment seemed to be demanded by the claims of Christianity to be the one, true, absolute and therefore oldest religion, foreseen from the beginning. The different estimates of the Old Testament in Gnostic circles have their exact parallels in the different estimates of Judaism among the other Christians; cf. for example, in this respect, the conception stated in the Epistle of Barnabas with the views of Marcion, and Justin with Valentinus. The particulars about the detachment of the Gentile Christians from the Synagogue, which was prepared for by the inner development of Judaism itself, and was required by the fundamental fact that the Messiah, crucified and rejected by his own people, was recognised as Saviour by those who were not Jews, cannot be given in the frame-work of a history of dogma; though, see Chaps. III. IV. VI. On the other hand, the turning away from Judaism is also the result of the mass of things which were held in common with it, even in Gnostic circles. Christianity made its appearance in the Empire in the Jewish propaganda. By the preaching of Jesus Christ who brought the gift of eternal life, mediated the full knowledge of God, and assembled round him in these last days a community, the imperfect and hybrid creations of the Jewish propaganda in the empire were converted into independent formations. These formations were far superior to the synagogue in power of attraction, and from the nature of the case would very soon be directed with the utmost vigour against the synagogue.] CHAPTER III THE COMMON FAITH AND THE BEGINNINGS OF KNOWLEDGE IN GENTILE CHRISTIANITY AS IT WAS BEING DEVELOPED INTO CATHOLICISM[162] § 1. _The Communities and the Church._ The confessors of the Gospels, belonging to organised communities who recognised the Old Testament as the Divine record of revelation, and prized the Evangelic tradition as a public message for all, to which, in its undiluted form, they wished to adhere truly and sincerely, formed the stem of Christendom both as to extent and importance.[163] The communities stood to each other in an outwardly loose, but inwardly firm connection, and every community by the vigour of its faith, the certainty of its hope, the holy character of its life, as well as by unfeigned love, unity and peace, was to be an image of the holy Church of God which is in heaven, and whose members are scattered over the earth. They were further, by the purity of their walk and an active brotherly disposition, to prove to those without, that is to the world, the excellence and truth of the Christian faith.[164] The hope that the Lord would speedily appear to gather into his Kingdom the believers who were scattered abroad, punishing the evil and rewarding the good, guided these communities in faith and life. In the recently discovered "Teaching of the Apostles" we are confronted very distinctly with ideas and aspirations of communities that are not influenced by Philosophy. The Church, that is the totality of all believers destined to be received into the kingdom of God (Didache, 9. 10), is the holy Church, (Hermas) because it is brought together and preserved by the Holy Spirit. It is the one Church, not because it presents this unity outwardly, on earth the members of the Church are rather scattered abroad, but because it will be brought to unity in the kingdom of Christ, because it is ruled by the same spirit and inwardly united in a common relation to a common hope and ideal. The Church, considered in its origin, is the number of those chosen by God,[165] the true Israel,[166] nay, still more, the final purpose of God, for the world was created for its sake.[167] There were in connection with these doctrines in the earliest period, various speculations about the Church: it is a heavenly Æon, is older than the world, was created by God at the beginning of things as a companion of the heavenly Christ;[168] its members form the new nation which is really the oldest nation,[169] it is the [Greek: laos ho tou agapêmenou ho philoumenos kai philon auton],[170] the people whom God has prepared "in the Beloved,"[171] etc. The creation of God, the Church, as it is of an antemundane and heavenly nature, will also attain its true existence only in the Æon of the future, the Æon of the kingdom of Christ. The idea of a heavenly origin, and of a heavenly goal of the Church, was therefore an essential one, various and fluctuating as these speculations were. Accordingly, the exhortations, so far as they have in view the Church, are always dominated by the idea of the contrast of the kingdom of Christ with the kingdom of the world. On the other hand, he who communicated knowledge for the present time, prescribed rules of life, endeavoured to remove conflicts, did not appeal to the peculiar character of the Church. The mere fact, however, that from nearly the beginning of Christendom, there were reflections and speculations not only about God and Christ, but also about the Church, teaches us how profoundly the Christian consciousness was impressed with being a new people, viz., the people of God.[172] These speculations of the earliest Gentile Christian time about Christ and the Church, as inseparable correlative ideas, are of the greatest importance, for they have absolutely nothing Hellenic in them, but rather have their origin in the Apostolic tradition. But for that very reason the combination very soon, comparatively speaking, became obsolete or lost its power to influence. Even the Apologists made no use of it, though Clement of Alexandria and other Greeks held it fast, and the Gnostics by their Æon "Church" brought it into discredit. Augustine was the first to return to it. The importance attached to morality is shewn in _Didache_ cc. 1-6, with parallels[173]. But this section and the statements so closely related to it in the pseudo phocylidean poem, which is probably of Christian origin, as well as in Sibyl, II. v. 56, 148, which is likewise to be regarded as Christian, and in many other Gnomic paragraphs, shews at the same time, that in the memorable expression and summary statement of higher moral commandments, the Christian propaganda had been preceded by the Judaism of the Diaspora, and had entered into its labours. These statements are throughout dependent on the Old Testament wisdom, and have the closest relationship with the genuine Greek parts of the Alexandrian Canon, as well as with Philonic exhortations. Consequently, these moral rules, the two ways, so aptly compiled and filled with such an elevated spirit, represent the ripest fruit of Jewish as well as of Greek development. The Christian spirit found here a disposition which it could recognise as its own. It was of the utmost importance, however, that this disposition was already expressed in fixed forms suitable for didactic purposes. The young Christianity therewith received a gift of first importance. It was spared a labour in a legion, the moral, which experience shews, can only be performed in generations, viz, the creation of simple fixed impressive rules, the labour of the Catechist. The sayings of the Sermon on the Mount were not of themselves sufficient here. Those who in the second century attempted to rest in these alone and turned aside from the Judaeo-Greek inheritance, landed in Marcionite or Encratite doctrines.[174] We can see, especially from the Apologies of Aristides (c. 15), Justin and Tatian (see also Lucian), that the earnest men of the Græco-Roman world were won by the morality and active love of the Christians. § 2. _The Foundations of the Faith._ The foundations of the faith--whose abridged form was, on the one hand, the confession of the one true God, [Greek: monos alethinos theos],[175] and of Jesus, the Lord, the Son of God, the Saviour[176] and also of the Holy Spirit, and on the other hand, the confident hope of Christ's kingdom and the resurrection--were laid on the Old Testament interpreted in a Christian sense together with the Apocalypses,[177] and the progressively enriched traditions about Jesus Christ ([Greek: he parodosis--ho paradotheis logos--ho kanôn tês alêtheías] or [Greek: tês paradoseôs--hê pistis--ho kanôn tês pisteôs--ho dotheisa pistis--to kêrygma--ta didagmata tou christou--hê didachê--ta mathêmata], or [Greek: to mathêma]).[178] The Old Testament revelations and oracles were regarded as pointing to Christ; the Old Testament itself, the words of God spoken by the Prophets, as the primitive Gospel of salvation, having in view the new people, which is, however, the oldest, and belonging to it alone.[179] The exposition of the Old Testament, which, as a rule, was of course read in the Alexandrian Canon of the Bible, turned it into a Christian book. A historical view of it, which no born Jew could in some measure fail to take, did not come into fashion, and the freedom that was used in interpreting the Old Testament,--so far as there was a method, it was the Alexandrian Jewish--went the length of even correcting the letter and enriching the contents.[180] The traditions concerning Christ on which the communities were based, were of a twofold character. First, there were words of the Lord, mostly ethical, but also of eschatological content, which were regarded as rules, though their expression was uncertain, ever changing, and only gradually assuming a fixed form. The [Greek: didagmata tou christou] are often just the moral commandments.[181] Second, the foundation of the faith, that is, the assurance of the blessing of salvation, was formed by a proclamation of the history of Jesus concisely expressed, and composed with reference to prophecy.[182] The confession of God the Father Almighty, of Christ as the Lord and Son of God, and of the Holy Spirit,[183] was at a very early period in the communities, united with the short proclamation of the history of Jesus, and at the same time, in certain cases, referred expressly to the revelation of God (the Spirit) through the prophets.[184] The confession thus conceived had not everywhere obtained a fixed definite expression in the first century (c. 50-150). It would rather seem that, in most of the communities, there was no exact formulation beyond a confession of Father, Son and Spirit, accompanied in a free way by the historical proclamation.[185] It is highly probable, however, that a short confession was strictly formulated in the Roman community before the middle of the second century,[186] expressing belief in the Father, Son and Spirit, embracing also the most important facts in the history of Jesus, and mentioning the Holy Church, as well as the two great blessings of Christianity, the forgiveness of sin, and the resurrection of the dead ([Greek: aphesis hamartiôn, sarkos anastasis][187]). But, however the proclamation might be handed down, in a form somehow fixed, or in a free form, the disciples of Jesus, the (twelve) Apostles, were regarded as the authorities who mediated and guaranteed it. To them was traced back in the same way everything that was narrated of the history of Jesus, and everything that was inculcated from his sayings.[188] Consequently, it may be said, that beside the Old Testament, the chief court of appeal in the communities was formed by an aggregate of words and deeds of the Lord;--for the history and the suffering of Jesus are his deed: [Greek: ho Iêsous hupemeinen pathein, k.t.l.]--fixed in certain fundamental features, though constantly enriched, and traced back to apostolic testimony.[189] The authority which the Apostles in this way enjoyed, did not, in any great measure, rest on the remembrance of direct services which the twelve had rendered to the Gentile Churches: for, as the want of reliable concrete traditions proves, no such services had been rendered, at least not by the _twelve_. On the contrary, there was a theory operative here regarding the special authority which the twelve enjoyed in the Church at Jerusalem, a theory which was spread by the early missionaries, including Paul, and sprang from the _a priori_ consideration that the tradition about Christ, just because it grew up so quickly,[190] must have been entrusted to eye-witnesses who were commissioned to proclaim the Gospel to the whole world, and who fulfilled that commission. The _a priori_ character of this assumption is shewn by the fact that--with the exception of reminiscences of an activity of Peter and John among the [Greek: ethnê], not sufficiently clear to us[191]--the twelve, as a rule, are regarded as a _college_, to which the mission and the tradition are traced back.[192] That such a theory, based on a dogmatic construction of history, could have at all arisen, proves that either the Gentile Churches never had a living relation to the twelve, or that they had very soon lost it in the rapid disappearance of Jewish Christianity, while they had been referred to the twelve from the beginning. But even in the communities which Paul had founded and for a long time guided, the remembrance of the controversies of the Apostolic age must have been very soon effaced, and the vacuum thus produced filled by a theory which directly traced back the _status quo_ of the Gentile Christian communities to a tradition of the twelve as its foundation. This fact is extremely paradoxical, and is not altogether explained by the assumptions that the Pauline-Judaistic controversy had not made a great impression on the Gentile Christians, that the way in which Paul, while fully recognising the twelve, had insisted on his own independent importance, had long ceased to be really understood, and that Peter and John had also really been missionaries to the Gentiles. The guarantee that was needed for the "teaching of the Lord" must, finally, be given not by Paul, but only by chosen eye-witnesses. The less that was known about them, the easier it was to claim them. The conviction as to the unanimity of the twelve, and as to their activity in founding the Gentile Churches, appeared in these Churches as early as the urgent need of protection against the serious consequences of unfettered religious enthusiasm and unrestrained religious fancy. This urgency cannot be dated too far back. In correspondence therewith, the principle of tradition in the Church (Christ, the twelve Apostles) in the case of those who were intent on the unity and completeness of Christendom, is also very old. But one passed logically from the Apostles to the disciples of the Apostles, "the Elders," without at first claiming for them any other significance than that of reliable hearers (Apostoli et discentes ipsorum). In coming down to them, one here and there betook oneself again to real historical ground, disciples of Paul, of Peter, of John.[193] Yet even here legends with a tendency speedily got mixed with facts, and because, in consequence of this theory of tradition, the Apostle Paul must needs fall into the background, his disciples also were more or less forgotten. The attempt which we have in the Pastoral Epistles remained without effect, as regards those to whom these epistles were addressed. Timothy and Titus obtained no authority outside these epistles. But so far as the epistles of Paul were collected, diffused, and read, there was created a complex of writings which at first stood beside the "Teaching of the Lord by the twelve Apostles", without being connected with it, and only obtained such connection by the creation of the New Testament, that is, by the interpolation of the Acts of the Apostles, between Gospels and Epistles.[194] § 3. _The Main Articles of Christianity and the Conceptions of Salvation. Eschatology._ 1. The main articles of Christianity were (1) belief in God the [Greek: despotês], and in the Son in virtue of proofs from prophecy, and the teaching of the Lord as attested by the Apostles; (2) discipline according to the standard of the words of the Lord; (3) baptism; (4) the common offering of prayer, culminating in the Lord's Supper and the holy meal, (5) the sure hope of the nearness of Christ's glorious kingdom. In these appears the unity of Christendom, that is, of the Church which possesses the Holy Spirit.[195] On the basis of this unity Christian knowledge was free and manifold. It was distinguished as [Greek: sophia, sunesis, epistême, gnôsis (tôn dikaiômatôn)], from the [Greek: logos theou tês pisteôs], the [Greek: klêsis tês epangelias] and the [Greek: entolai tês didachês] (Barn. 16. 9, similarly Hermas). Perception and knowledge of Divine things was a Charism possessed only by individuals, but like all Charisms it was to be used for the good of the whole. In so far as every actual perception was a perception produced by the Spirit, it was regarded as important and indubitable truth, even though some Christians were unable to understand it. While attention was given to the firm inculcation and observance of the moral precepts of Christ, as well as to the awakening of sure faith in Christ, and while all waverings and differences were excluded in respect of these, there was absolutely no current doctrine of faith in the communities, in the sense of a completed theory, and the theological speculations of even closely related Christian writers of this epoch, exhibit the greatest differences.[196] The productions of fancy, the terrible or consoling pictures of the future pass for sacred knowledge, just as much as intelligent and sober reflections, and edifying interpretation of Old Testament sayings. Even that which was afterwards separated as Dogmatic and Ethics was then in no way distinguished.[197] The communities gave expression in the cultus, chiefly in the hymns and prayers, to what they possessed in their God and their Christ; here sacred formulæ were fashioned and delivered to the members.[198] The problem of surrendering the world in the hope of a life beyond was regarded as the practical side of the faith, and the unity in temper and disposition resting on faith in the saving revelation of God in Christ, permitted the highest degree of freedom in knowledge, the results of which were absolutely without control as soon as the preacher or the writer was recognised as a true teacher, that is, inspired by the Spirit of God.[199] There was also in wide circles a conviction that the Christian faith, after the night of error, included the full knowledge of everything worth knowing, that precisely in its most important articles it is accessible to men of every degree of culture, and that in it, in the now attained truth, is contained one of the most essential blessings of Christianity. When it is said in the Epistle of Barnabas (II. 2. 3); [Greek: tês písteôs hêmôn eisìn boêthoì phobos kai hupomonê, ta de summachounta hêmìn makrothumía kai enkrateia; toutôn menontôn ta pros kurion hagnôs, suneuphrainontai autois sophia, sunesis, epistêmê, gnôsis], knowledge appears in this classic formula to be an essential element in Christianity, conditioned by faith and the practical virtues, and dependent on them. Faith takes the lead, knowledge follows it: but of course in concrete cases it could not always be decided what was [Greek: logos tês pistêôs], which implicitly contained the highest knowledge, and what the special [Greek: gnôsis]; for in the last resort the nature of the two was regarded as identical, both being represented as produced by the Spirit of God. 2. The conceptions of Christian salvation, or of redemption, were grouped around two ideas, which were themselves but loosely connected with each other, and of which the one influenced more the temper and the imagination, the other the intellectual faculty. On the one hand, salvation, in accordance with the earliest preaching, was regarded as the glorious kingdom which was soon to appear on earth with the visible return of Christ, which will bring the present course of the world to an end, and introduce for a definite series of centuries, before the final judgment, a new order of all things to the joy and blessedness of the saints.[200] In connection with this the hope of the resurrection of the body occupied the foreground[201]. On the other hand, salvation appeared to be given in the truth, that is, in the complete and certain knowledge of God, as contrasted with the error of heathendom and the night of sin, and this truth included the certainty of the gift of eternal life, and all conceivable spiritual blessings.[202] Of these the community, so far as it is a community of saints, that is, so far as it is ruled by the Spirit of God, already possesses forgiveness of sins and righteousness. But, as a rule, neither blessing was understood in a strictly religious sense, that is to say, the effect of their religious sense was narrowed. The moralistic view, in which eternal life is the wages and reward of a perfect moral life wrought out essentially by one's own power, took the place of first importance at a very early period. On this view, according to which the righteousness of God is revealed in punishment and reward alike, the forgiveness of sin only meant a single remission of sin in connection with entrance into the Church by baptism,[203] and righteousness became identical with virtue. The idea is indeed still operative, especially in the oldest Gentile-Christian writings known to us, that sinlessness rests upon a new creation (regeneration) which is effected in baptism;[204] but, so far as dissimilar eschatological hopes do not operate, it is everywhere in danger of being supplanted by the other idea, which maintains that there is no other blessing in the Gospel than the perfect truth and eternal life. All else is but a sum of obligations in which the Gospel is presented as a new law. The christianising of the Old Testament supported this conception. There was indeed an opinion that the Gospel, even so far as it is a law, comprehends a gift of salvation which is to be grasped by faith [Greek: nomos aneu zugou anankês,[205] nomos t. eleutherias],[206] Christ himself the law;[207] but this notion, as it is obscure in itself, was also an uncertain one and was gradually lost. Further, by the "law" was frequently meant in the first place, not the law of love, but the commandments of ascetic holiness, or an explanation and a turn were given to the law of love, according to which it is to verify itself above all in asceticism.[208] The expression of the contents of the Gospel in the concepts [Greek: epangelia (zôê aiônios) gnôsis (alêtheia) nomos (enkrateia)], seemed quite as plain as it was exhaustive, and the importance of faith which was regarded as the basis of hope and knowledge and obedience in a holy life, was at the same time in every respect perceived.[209] _Supplement_ 1.--The moralistic view of sin, forgiveness of sin, and righteousness, in Clement, Barnabas, Polycarp and Ignatius, gives place to Pauline formulæ; but the uncertainty with which these are reproduced, shews that the Pauline idea has not been clearly seen.[210] In Hermas, however, and in the second Epistle of Clement, the consciousness of being under grace, even after baptism, almost completely disappears behind the demand to fulfil the tasks which baptism imposes.[211] The idea that serious sins, in the case of the baptised, no longer should or can be forgiven, except under special circumstances, appears to have prevailed in wide circles, if not everywhere.[212] It reveals the earnestness of those early Christians and their elevated sense of freedom and power; but it might be united either with the highest moral intensity, or with a lax judgment on the little sins of the day. The latter, in point of fact, threatened to become more and more the presupposition and result of that idea--for there exists here a fatal reciprocal action. _Supplement_ 2.--The realisation of salvation--as [Greek: basileia tou theou] and as [Greek: aphtharsia]--being expected from the future, the whole present possession of salvation might be comprehended under the title of vocation ([Greek: klêsis]) see, for example, the second Epistle of Clement. In this sense _gnosis_ itself was regarded as something only preparatory. _Supplement_ 3.--In some circles the Pauline formula about righteousness and salvation by faith alone, must, it would appear, not infrequently (as already in the Apostolic age itself) have been partly misconstrued, and partly taken advantage of as a cloak for laxity. Those who resisted such a disposition, and therefore also the formula in the post-Apostolic age, shew indeed by their opposition how little they have hit upon or understood the Pauline idea of faith: for they not only issued the watchword "faith and works" (though the Jewish ceremonial law was not thereby meant), but they admitted, and not only hypothetically, that one might have the true faith even though in his case that faith remained dead or united with immorality. See, above all, the Epistle of James and the Shepherd of Hermas; though the first Epistle of John comes also into consideration (III. 7: "He that doeth righteousness is righteous").[213] _Supplement_ 4.--However similar the eschatological expectations of the Jewish Apocalyptists and the Christians may seem, there is yet in one respect an important difference between them. The uncertainty about the final consummation was first set aside by the Gospel. It should be noted as highly characteristic of the Jewish hopes of the future, even of the most definite, how the beginning of the end, that is, the overthrow of the world-powers and the setting up of the earthly kingdom of God, was much more certainly expressed than the goal and the final end. Neither the general judgment, nor what we, according to Christian tradition, call heaven and hell, should be described as a sure possession of Jewish faith in the primitive Christian period. It is only in the Gospel of Christ, where everything is subordinated to the idea of a higher righteousness and the union of the individual with God, that the general judgment and the final condition after it are the clear, firmly grasped goal of all meditation. No doctrine has been more surely preserved in the convictions and preaching of believers in Christ than this. Fancy might roam ever so much and, under the direction of the tradition, thrust bright and precious images between the present condition and the final end, the main thing continued to be the great judgment of the world, and the certainty that the saints would go to God in heaven, the wicked to hell. But while the judgment, as a rule, was connected with the Person of Jesus himself (see the Romish Symbol: the words [Greek: kritês zôntôn kai nekrôn], were very frequently applied to Christ in the earliest writings), the moral condition of the individual, and the believing recognition of the Person of Christ were put in the closest relation. The Gentile Christians held firmly to this. Open the Shepherd, or the second Epistle of Clement, or any other early Christian writing, and you will find that the judgment, heaven and hell, are the decisive objects. But that shews that the moral character of Christianity as a religion is seen and adhered to. The fearful idea of hell, far from signifying a backward step in the history of the religious spirit, is rather a proof of its having rejected the morally indifferent point of view, and of its having become sovereign in union with the ethical spirit. § 4. _The Old Testament as Source of the Knowledge of Faith._[214] The sayings of the Old Testament, the word of God, were believed to furnish inexhaustible material for deeper knowledge. The Christian prophets were nurtured on the Old Testament, the teachers gathered from it the revelation of the past, present and future (Barn. 1. 7), and were therefore able as prophets to edify the Churches; from it was further drawn the confirmation of the answers to all emergent questions, as one could always find in the Old Testament what he was in search of. The different writers laid the holy book under contribution in very much the same way; for they were all dominated by the presupposition that this book is a Christian book, and contains the explanations that are necessary for the occasion. There were several teachers, e.g., Barnabas, who at a very early period boasted of finding in it ideas of special profundity and value--these were always an expression of the difficulties that were being felt. The plain words of the Lord as generally known, did not seem sufficient to satisfy the craving for knowledge, or to solve the problems that were emerging;[215] their origin and form also opposed difficulties at first to the attempt to obtain from them new disclosures by re-interpretation. But the Old Testament sayings and histories were in part unintelligible, or in their literal sense offensive; they were at the same time regarded as fundamental words of God. This furnished the conditions for turning them to account in the way we have stated. The following are the most important points of view under which the Old Testament was used. (1) The Monotheistic cosmology and view of nature were borrowed from it (see, for example, 1 Clem.). (2) It was used to prove that the appearance and entire history of Jesus had been foretold centuries, nay, thousands of years beforehand, and that the founding of a new people gathered out of all nations had been predicted and prepared for from the very beginning.[216] (3) It was used as a means of verifying all principles and institutions of the Christian Church,--the spiritual worship of God without images, the abolition of all ceremonial legal precepts, baptism, etc. (4) The Old Testament was used for purposes of exhortation according to the formula _a minori ad majus_; if God then punished and rewarded this or that in such a way, how much more may we expect, who now stand in the last days, and have received the [Greek: klêsis tês epangelías]. (5) It was proved from the Old Testament that the Jewish nation is in error, and either never had a covenant with God or has lost it, that it has a false apprehension of God's revelations, and therefore has, now at least, no longer any claim to their possession. But beyond all this, (6) there were in the Old Testament books, above all, in the Prophets and in the Psalms, a great number of sayings--confessions of trust in God and of help received from God, of humility and holy courage, testimonies of a world-overcoming faith and words of comfort, love and communion--which were too exalted for any cavilling, and intelligible to every spiritually awakened mind. Out of this treasure which was handed down to the Greeks and Romans, the Church edified herself, and in the perception of its riches was largely rooted the conviction that the holy book must in every line contain the highest truth. The point mentioned under (5) needs, however, further explanation. The self-consciousness of the Christian community of being the people of God, must have been, above all, expressed in its position towards Judaism, whose mere existence--even apart from actual assaults-- threatened that consciousness most seriously. A certain antipathy of the Greeks and Romans towards Judaism co-operated here with a law of self-preservation. On all hands, therefore, Judaism as it then existed was abandoned as a sect judged and rejected by God, as a society of hypocrites,[217] as a synagogue of Satan,[218] as a people seduced by an evil angel,[219] and the Jews were declared to have no further right to the possession of the Old Testament. Opinions differed, however, as to the earlier history of the nation and its relation to the true God. While some denied that there ever had been a covenant of salvation between God and this nation, and in this respect recognised only an intention of God,[220] which was never carried out because of the idolatry of the people, others admitted in a hazy way that a relation did exist; but even they referred all the promises of the Old Testament to the Christian people.[221] While the former saw in the observance of the letter of the law, in the case of circumcision, sabbath, precepts as to food, etc., a proof of the special devilish temptation to which the Jewish people succumbed,[222] the latter saw in circumcision a sign[223] given by God, and in virtue of certain considerations acknowledged that the literal observance of the law was for the time God's intention and command, though righteousness never came from such observance. Yet even they saw in the spiritual the alone true sense, which the Jews had denied, and were of opinion that the burden of ceremonies was a pædagogic necessity with reference to a people stiff-necked and prone to idolatry, i.e., a defence of monotheism, and gave an interpretation to the sign of circumcision which made it no longer a blessing, but rather the mark for the execution of judgment on Israel.[224] Israel was thus at all times the pseudo-Church. The older people does not in reality precede the younger people, the Christians, even in point of time; for though the Church appeared only in the last days, it was foreseen and created by God from the beginning. The younger people is therefore really the older, and the new law rather the original law.[225] The Patriarchs, Prophets, and men of God, however, who were favoured with the communication of God's words, have nothing inwardly in common with the Jewish people. They are God's elect who were distinguished by a holy walk, and must be regarded as the forerunners and fathers of the Christian people.[226] To the question how such holy men appeared exclusively, or almost exclusively, among the Jewish people, the documents preserved to us yield no answer. § 5. _The Knowledge of God and of the World. Estimate of the World._ The knowledge of faith was, above all, the knowledge of God as one, supramundane, spiritual,[227] and almighty ([Greek: pantokratôr]); God is creator and governor of the world and therefore the Lord.[228] But as he created the world a beautiful ordered whole (monotheistic view of nature)[229] for the sake of man,[230] he is at the same time the God of goodness and redemption ([Greek: theos sôtêr]), and the true faith in God and knowledge of him as the Father,[231] is made perfect only in the knowledge of the identity of the God of creation and the God of redemption. Redemption, however, was necessary, because at the beginning humanity and the world alike fell under the dominion of evil demons,[232] of the evil one. There was no universally accepted theory as to the origin of this dominion; but the sure and universal conviction was that the present condition and course of the world is not of God, but is of the devil. Those, however, who believed in God, the almighty creator, and were expecting the transformation of the earth, as well as the visible dominion of Christ upon it, could not be seduced into accepting a dualism in principle (God and devil: spirit and matter). Belief in God, the creator, and eschatological hopes, preserved the communities from the theoretic dualism that so readily suggested itself, which they slightly touched in many particular opinions, and which threatened to dominate their feelings. The belief that the world is of God and therefore good, remained in force. A distinction was made between the present constitution of the world, which is destined for destruction, and the future order of the world which will be a glorious "restitutio in integrum." The theory of the world as an articulated whole which had already been proclaimed by the Stoics, and which was strengthened by Christian monotheism, would not, even if it had been known to the uncultured, have been vigorous enough to cope with the impression of the wickedness of the course of this world, and the vulgarity of all things material. But the firm belief in the omnipotence of God, and the hope of the world's transformation grounded on the Old Testament, conquered the mood of absolute despair of all things visible and sensuous, and did not allow a theoretic conclusion, in the sense of dualism in principle, to be drawn from the practical obligation to renounce the world, or from the deep distrust with regard to the flesh. § 6. _Faith in Jesus Christ._ 1. As surely as redemption was traced back to God himself, so surely was Jesus ([Greek: ho sôtêr hêmôn]) held to be the mediator of it. Faith in Jesus was therefore, even for Gentile Christians, a compendium of Christianity. Jesus is mostly designated with the same name as God,[233] [Greek: ho kurios (hêmôn)], for we must remember the ancient use of this title. All that has taken place or will take place with reference to salvation, is traced back to the "Lord." The carelessness of the early Christian writers about the bearing of the word in particular cases,[234] shews that in a religious relation, so far as there was reflection on the gift of salvation, Jesus could directly take the place of God. The invisible God is the author, Jesus the revealer and mediator, of all saving blessings. The final subject is presented in the nearest subject, and there is frequently no occasion for expressly distinguishing them, as the range and contents of the revelation of salvation in Jesus coincide with the range and contents of the will of salvation in God himself. Yet prayers, as a rule, were addressed to God: at least, there are but few examples of direct prayers to Jesus belonging to the first century (apart from the prayers in the Act. Joh. of the so-called Leucius). The usual formula rather reads: [Greek: theôi exomologoumetha dia 'I. Chr.--theôi doxa dio 'I. Chr].[235] 2. As the Gentile Christians did not understand the significance of the idea that Jesus is the Christ (Messiah), the designation "[Greek: christos]" had either to be given up in their communities, or to subside into a mere name.[236] But even where, through the Old Testament, one was reminded of the meaning of the word, and allowed a value to it, he was far from finding in the statement that Jesus is the Lord's anointed, a clear expression of the dignity peculiar to him. That dignity had therefore to be expressed by other means. Nevertheless the eschatological series of ideas connected the Gentile Christians very closely with the early Christian ideas of faith, and therefore also with the earliest ideas about Jesus. In the confession that God chose[237] and prepared[238] Jesus, that Jesus is the Angel[239] and the servant of God,[240] that he will judge the living and the dead,[241] etc., expression is given to ideas about Jesus, in the Gentile Christian communities, which are borrowed from the thought that he is the Christ called of God and entrusted with an office.[242] Besides, there was a very old designation handed down from the circle of the disciples, and specially intelligible to Gentile Christians, though not frequent and gradually disappearing, viz., "the Master."[243] 3. But the earliest tradition not only spoke of Jesus as [Greek: kurios, sôtêr], and [Greek: didaskalos], but as "[Greek: ho huios tou theou]", and this name was firmly adhered to in the Gentile Christian communities.[244] It followed immediately from this that Jesus belongs to the sphere of God, and that, as is said in the earliest preaching known to us,[245] one must think of him "[Greek: hôs peri theou]." This formula describes in a classic manner the indirect "theologia Christi" which we find unanimously expressed in all witnesses of the earliest epoch.[246] We must think about Christ as we think about God, because, on the one hand, God had exalted him, and committed to him as Lord, judgment over the living and the dead, and because, on the other hand, he has brought the knowledge of the truth, called sinful men, delivered them from the dominion of demons, and hath led, or will lead them, out of the night of death and corruption to eternal life. Jesus Christ is "our faith", "our hope", "our life", and in this sense "our God." The religious assurance that he is this, for we find no wavering on this point, is the root of the "theologia Christi"; but we must also remember that the formula "[Greek: theos]" was inserted beside "[Greek: kurios]," that the "dominus ac deus," was very common at that time,[247] and that a Saviour [Greek: sôtêr] could only be represented somehow as a Divine being.[248] Yet Christ never was, as "[Greek: theos]," placed on an equality with the Father,[249]--monotheism guarded against that. Whether he was intentionally and deliberately identified with Him the following paragraph will shew. 4. The common confession did not go beyond the statements that Jesus is the Lord, the Saviour, the Son of God, that one must think of him as of God, that dwelling now with God in heaven, he is to be adored as [Greek: prostatês kai boêthos tês astheneias], and as [Greek: archiereus tôn prosphorôn hêmôn] [as guardian and helper of the weak and as High Priest of our oblations], to be feared as the future Judge, to be esteemed most highly as the bestower of immortality, that he is our hope and our faith. There are found rather, on the basis of that confession, very diverse conceptions of the Person, that is, of the nature of Jesus, beside each other,[250] which collectively exhibit a certain analogy with the Greek theologies, the naive and the philosophic.[251] There was as yet no such thing here as ecclesiastical "doctrines" in the strict sense of the word, but rather conceptions more or less fluid, which were not seldom fashioned _ad hoc._[252] These may be reduced collectively to two.[253] Jesus was either regarded as the man whom God hath chosen, in whom the Deity or the Spirit of God dwelt, and who, after being tested, was adopted by God and invested with dominion, (Adoptian Christology);[254] or Jesus was regarded as a heavenly spiritual being (the highest after God) who took flesh, and again returned to heaven after the completion of his work on earth (pneumatic Christology).[255] These two Christologies which are, strictly speaking, mutually exclusive--the man who has become a God, and the Divine being who has appeared in human form--yet came very near each other when the Spirit of God implanted in the man Jesus was conceived as the pre-existent Son of God,[256] and when, on the other hand, the title, Son of God, for that pneumatic being, was derived only from the miraculous generation in the flesh; yet both these seem to have been the rule.[257] Yet, in spite of all transitional forms, the two Christologies may be clearly distinguished. Characteristic of the one is the development through which Jesus is first to become a Godlike Ruler,[258] and connected therewith, the value put on the miraculous event at the baptism; of the other, a naive docetism.[259] For no one as yet thought of affirming two natures in Jesus:[260] the Divine dignity appeared rather, either as a gift,[261] or the human nature ([Greek: sarx]) as a veil assumed for a time, or as the metamorphosis of the Spirit.[262] The formula that Jesus was a mere man ([Greek: psilos anthrôpos]), was undoubtedly always, and from the first, regarded as offensive.[263] But the converse formulæ, which identified the person of Jesus in its essence with the Godhead itself, do not seem to have been rejected with the same decision.[264] Yet such formulæ may have been very rare, and even objects of suspicion, in the leading ecclesiastical circles, at least until after the middle of the second century we can point to them only in documents which hardly found approbation in wide circles. The assumption of the existence of at least one heavenly and eternal spiritual being beside God, was plainly demanded by the Old Testament writings, as they were understood; so that even those whose Christology did not require them to reflect on that heavenly being were forced to recognise it.[265] The pneumatic Christology, accordingly, meets us wherever there is an earnest occupation with the Old Testament, and wherever faith in Christ as the perfect revealer of God, occupies the foreground, therefore not in Hermas, but certainly in Barnabas, Clement, etc. The future belonged to this Christology, because the current exposition of the Old Testament seemed directly to require it, because it alone permitted the close connection between creation and redemption, because it furnished the proof that the world and religion rest upon the same Divine basis, because it was represented in the most valuable writings of the early period of Christianity, and finally, because it had room for the speculations about the Logos. On the other hand, no direct and natural relation to the world and to universal history could be given to the Adoptian Christology, which was originally determined eschatologically. If such a relation, however, were added to it, there resulted formulæ such as that of two Sons of God, one natural and eternal, and one adopted, which corresponded neither to the letter of the Holy Scriptures, nor to the Christian preaching. Moreover, the revelations of God in the Old Testament made by Theophanies, must have seemed, because of this their form, much more exalted than the revelations made through a man raised to power and glory, which Jesus constantly seemed to be in the Adoptian Christology. Nay, even the mysterious personality of Melchisedec, without father or mother, might appear more impressive than the Chosen Servant, Jesus, who was born of Mary, to a mode of thought which, in order to make no mistake, desired to verify the Divine by outer marks. The Adoptian Christology, that is, the Christology which is most in keeping with the self-witness of Jesus (the Son as the chosen Servant of God), is here shewn to be unable to assure to the Gentile Christians those conceptions of Christianity which they regarded as of highest value. It proved itself insufficient when confronted by any reflection on the relation of religion to the cosmos, to humanity, and to its history. It might, perhaps, still have seemed doubtful about the middle of the second century, as to which of the two opposing formulæ "Jesus is a man exalted to a Godlike dignity", and "Jesus is a divine spiritual being incarnate", would succeed in the Church. But one only needs to read the pieces of writing which represent the latter thesis, and to compare them, say, with the Shepherd of Hermas, in order to see to which view the future must belong. In saying this, however, we are anticipating; for the Christological reflections were not yet vigorous enough to overcome enthusiasm and the expectation of the speedy end of all things, and the mighty practical tendency of the new religion to a holy life did not allow any theory to become the central object of attention. But, still, it is necessary to refer here to the controversies which broke out at a later period; for the pneumatic Christology forms an essential article, which cannot be dispensed with, in the expositions of Barnabas, Clement and Ignatius, and Justin shews that he cannot conceive of a Christianity without the belief in a real pre-existence of Christ. On the other hand, the liturgical formulæ, the prayers, etc., which have been preserved, scarcely ever take notice of the pre-existence of Christ. They either comprise statements which are borrowed from the Adoptian Christology, or they testify in an unreflective way to the Dominion and Deity of Christ. 5. The ideas of Christ's work which were influential in the communities--Christ as Teacher: creation of knowledge, setting up of the new law; Christ as Saviour: creation of life, overcoming of the demons, forgiveness of sins committed in the time of error,--were by some, in conformity with Apostolic tradition and following the Pauline Epistles, positively connected with the death and resurrection of Christ, while others maintained them without any connection with these events. But one nowhere finds independent thorough reflections on the connection of Christ's saving work with the facts proclaimed in the preaching, above all, with the death on the cross and the resurrection as presented by Paul. The reason of this undoubtedly is that in the conception of the work of salvation, the procuring of forgiveness fell into the background, as this could only be connected by means of the notion of sacrifice, with a definite act of Jesus, viz., with the surrender of his life. Consequently, the facts of the destiny of Jesus combined in the preaching, formed, only for the religious fancy, not for reflection, the basis of the conception of the work of Christ, and were therefore by many writers, Hermas, for example, taken no notice of. Yet the idea of suffering freely accepted, of the cross and of the blood of Christ, operated in wide circles as a holy mystery, in which the deepest wisdom and power of the Gospel must somehow lie concealed.[266] The peculiarity and uniqueness of the work of the historical Christ seemed, however, to be prejudiced by the assumption that Christ, essentially as the same person, was already in the Old Testament the Revealer of God. All emphasis must therefore fall on this--without a technical reflection which cannot be proved--that the Divine revelation has now, through the historical Christ, become accessible and intelligible to all, and that the life which was promised will shortly be made manifest.[267] As to the facts of the history of Jesus, the real and the supposed, the circumstance that they formed the ever repeated proclamation about Christ gave them an extraordinary significance. In addition to the birth from the Holy Spirit and the Virgin, the death, the resurrection, the exaltation to the right hand of God, and the coming again, there now appeared more definitely the ascension to heaven, and also, though more uncertainly, the descent into the kingdom of the dead. The belief that Jesus ascended into heaven forty days after the resurrection, gradually made way against the older conception, according to which resurrection and ascension really coincided, and against other ideas which maintained a longer period between the two events. That probably is the result of a reflection which sought to distinguish the first from the later manifestations of the exalted Christ, and it is of the utmost importance as the beginning of a demarcation of the times. It is also very probable that the acceptance of an actual _ascensus in coelum_, not a mere _assumptio_, was favourable to the idea of an actual descent of Christ _de coelo_, therefore to the pneumatic Christology and vice versa. But there is also closely connected with the _ascensus in coelum_, the notion of a _descensus ad inferna_, which commended itself on the ground of Old Testament prediction. In the first century, however, it still remained uncertain, lying on the borders of those productions of religious fancy which were not able at once to acquire a right of citizenship in the communities.[268] One can plainly see that the articles contained in the _Kerygma_ were guarded and defended in their reality ([Greek: kat' alêtheian]) by the professional teachers of the Church, against sweeping attempts at explaining them away, or open attacks on them.[269] But they did not yet possess the value of dogmas, for they were neither put in an indissoluble union with the idea of salvation, nor were they stereotyped in their extent, nor were fixed limits set to the imagination in the concrete delineation and conception of them.[270] § 7. _The Worship, the Sacred Ordinances, and the Organisation of the Churches._ It is necessary to examine the original forms of the worship and constitution, because of the importance which they acquired in the following period even for the development of doctrine. 1. In accordance with the purely spiritual idea of God, it was a fixed principle that only a spiritual worship is well pleasing to Hun, and that all ceremonies are abolished, [Greek: hina ho kainos nomos tou kuriou hêmôn Iêsou Christou mê anthropôpoiêton echêi tên prosphoran].[271] But as the Old Testament and the Apostolic tradition made it equally certain that the worship of God is a sacrifice, the Christian worship of God was set forth under the aspect of the spiritual sacrifice. In the most general sense it was conceived as the offering of the heart and of obedience, as well as the consecration of the whole personality, body and soul (Rom XIII. 1) to God.[272] Here, with a change of the figure, the individual Christian and the whole community were described as a temple of God.[273] In a more special sense, prayer as thanksgiving and intercession,[274] was regarded as the sacrifice which was to be accompanied, without constraint or ceremony, by fasts and acts of compassionate love.[275] Finally, prayers offered by the worshipper in the public worship of the community, and the gifts brought by them, out of which were taken the elements for the Lord's supper, and which were used partly in the common meal, and partly in support of the poor, were regarded as sacrifice in the most special sense ([Greek: prosphora, dôra]).[276] For the following period, however, it became of the utmost importance, (1) that the idea of sacrifice ruled the whole worship, (2) that it appeared in a special manner in the celebration of the Lord's supper, and consequently invested that ordinance with a new meaning, (3) that the support of the poor, alms, especially such alms as had been gained by prayer and fasting, was placed under the category of sacrifice (Heb. XIII. 16), for this furnished the occasion for giving the widest application to the idea of sacrifice, and thereby substituting for the original Semitic Old Testament idea of sacrifice with its spiritual interpretation, the Greek idea with its interpretation.[277] It may, however, be maintained that the changes imposed on the Christian religion by Catholicism, are at no point so obvious and far-reaching, as in that of sacrifice, and especially in the solemn ordinance of the Lord's supper, which was placed in such close connection with the idea of sacrifice. 2. When in the "Teaching of the Apostles," which may be regarded here as a classic document, the discipline of life in accordance with the words of the Lord, Baptism, the order of fasting and prayer, especially the regular use of the Lord's prayer, and the Eucharist are reckoned the articles on which the Christian community rests, and when the common Sunday offering of a sacrifice made pure by a brotherly disposition, and the mutual exercise of discipline are represented as decisive for the stability of the individual community,[278] we perceive that the general idea of a pure spiritual worship of God has nevertheless been realised in definite institutions, and that, above all, it has included the traditional sacred ordinances, and adjusted itself to them as far as that was possible.[279] This could only take effect under the idea of the symbolical, and therefore this idea was most firmly attached to these ordinances. But the symbolical of that time is not to be considered as the opposite of the objectively real, but as the mysterious, the God produced ([Greek: mystêrion]) as contrasted with the natural, the profanely clear. As to Baptism, which was administered in the name of the Father, Son and Spirit, though Cyprian, Ep. 73. 16-18, felt compelled to oppose the custom of baptising in the name of Jesus, we noted above (Chap. III. p. 161 f.) that it was regarded as the bath of regeneration, and as renewal of life, inasmuch as it was assumed that by it the sins of the past state of blindness were blotted out.[280] But as faith was looked upon as the necessary condition,[281] and as on the other hand, the forgiveness of the sins of the past was in itself deemed worthy of God,[282] the asserted specific result of baptism remained still very uncertain, and the hard tasks which it imposed, might seem more important than the merely retrospective gifts which it proffered.[283] Under such circumstances the rite could not fail to lead believers about to be baptized, to attribute value here to the mysterious as such.[284] But that always creates a state of things which not only facilitates, but positively prepares for the introduction of new and strange ideas. For neither fancy nor reflection can long continue in the vacuum of mystery. The names [Greek: sphragis] and [Greek: phôtismos], which at that period came into fashion for baptism, are instructive, inasmuch as neither of them is a direct designation of the presupposed effect of baptism, the forgiveness of sin, and as besides, both of them evince a Hellenic conception. Baptism in being called the seal,[285] is regarded as the guarantee of a blessing, not as the blessing itself, at least the relation to it remains obscure; in being called enlightenment,[286] it is placed directly under an aspect that is foreign to it. It would be different if we had to think of [Greek: phôtismos] as a gift of the Holy Spirit, which is given to the baptised as real principle of a new life and miraculous powers. But the idea of a necessary union of baptism with a miraculous communication of the Spirit, seems to have been lost very early, or to have become uncertain, the actual state of things being no longer favourable to it;[287] at any rate, it does not explain the designation of baptism as [Greek: phôtismos]. As regards the Lord's Supper, the most important point is that its celebration became more and more the central point, not only for the worship of the Church, but for its very life as a Church. The form of this celebration, the common meal, made it appear to be a fitting expression of the brotherly unity of the community (on the public confession before the meal, see Didache, 14, and my notes on the passage). The prayers which it included presented themselves as vehicles for bringing before God, in thanksgiving and intercession, every thing that affected the community; and the presentation of the elements for the holy ordinance was naturally extended to the offering of gifts for the poor brethren, who in this way received them from the hand of God himself. In all these respects, however, the holy ordinance appeared as a sacrifice of the community, and indeed, as it was also named, [Greek: eucharistia], sacrifice of thanksgiving.[288] As an act of sacrifice, _termini technici_ which the Old Testament applied to sacrifice could be applied to it, and all the wealth of ideas which the Old Testament connects with sacrifice, could be transferred to it. One cannot say that anything absolutely foreign was therewith introduced into the ordinance, however doubtful it may be whether in the idea of its founder the meal was thought of as a sacrificial meal. But it must have been of the most wide-reaching significance, that a wealth of ideas was in this way connected with the ordinance, which had nothing whatever in common, either with the purpose of the meal as a memorial of Christ's death,[289] or with the mysterious symbols of the body and blood of Christ. The result was that the one transaction obtained a double value. At one time it appeared as the [Greek: prosphora] and [Greek: thusia] of the Church,[290] as the pure sacrifice which is presented to the great king by Christians scattered over the world, as they offer to him their prayers, and place before him again what he has bestowed in order to receive it back with thanks and praise. But there is no reference in this to the mysterious words that the bread and wine are the body of Christ broken, and the blood of Christ shed for the forgiveness of sin. These words, in and of themselves, must have challenged a special consideration. They called forth the recognition in the sacramental action, or rather in the consecrated elements, of a mysterious communication of God, a gift of salvation, and this is the second aspect. But on a purely spiritual conception of the Divine gift of salvation, the blessings mediated through the Holy Supper could only be thought of as spiritual (faith, knowledge, or eternal life), and the consecrated elements could only be recognised as the mysterious vehicles of these blessings. There was yet no reflection on the distinction between symbol and vehicle; the symbol was rather regarded as the vehicle, and vice versa. We shall search in vain for any special relation of the partaking of the consecrated elements to the forgiveness of sin. That was made impossible by the whole current notions of sin and forgiveness. That on which value was put was the strengthening of faith and knowledge, as well as the guarantee of eternal life, and a meal in which there was appropriated not merely common bread and wine, but a [Greek: trophê pneumatikê], seemed to have a bearing upon these. There was as yet little reflection; but there can be no doubt that thought here moved in a region bounded, on the one hand, by the intention of doing justice to the wonderful words of institution which had been handed down, and on the other hand, by the fundamental conviction that spiritual things can only be got by means of the Spirit.[291] There was thus attached to the Supper the idea of sacrifice, and of a sacred gift guaranteed by God. The two things were held apart, for there is as yet no trace of that conception, according to which the body of Christ represented in the bread[292] is the sacrifice offered by the community. But one feels almost called upon here to construe from the premises the later development of the idea, with due regard to the ancient Hellenic ideas of sacrifice. 3. The natural distinctions among men, and the differences of position and vocation which these involve, were not to be abolished in the Church, notwithstanding the independence and equality of every individual Christian, but were to be consecrated: above all, every relation of natural piety was to be respected. Therefore the elders also acquired a special authority, and were to receive the utmost deference and due obedience. But, however important the organisation that was based on the distinction between [Greek: presbuteroi] and [Greek: neoteroi], it ought not to be considered as characteristic of the Churches, not even where there appeared at the head of the community a college of chosen elders, as was the case in the greater communities and perhaps soon everywhere. On the contrary, only an organisation founded on the gifts of the Spirit [Greek: charismata], bestowed on the Church by God,[293] corresponded to the original peculiarity of the Christian community. The Apostolic age therefore transmitted a twofold organisation to the communities. The one was based on the [Greek: diakonia tou logou], and was regarded as established directly by God; the other stood in the closest connection with the economy of the church, above all with the offering of gifts, and so with the sacrificial service. In the first were men speaking the word of God, commissioned and endowed by God, and bestowed on Christendom, not on a particular community, who as [Greek: apostoloi, prophêtai], and [Greek: didaskaloi] had to spread the Gospel, that is to edify the Church of Christ. They were regarded as the real [Greek: hêgoumenoi] in the communities, whose words given them by the Spirit all were to accept in faith. In the second were [Greek: episkopoi], and [Greek: diakonoi], appointed by the individual congregation and endowed with the charisms of leading and helping, who had to receive and administer the gifts, to perform the sacrificial service (if there were no prophets present), and take charge of the affairs of the community.[294] It lay in the nature of the case that as a rule the [Greek: episkopoi], as independent officials, were chosen from among the elders, and might thus coincide with the chosen [Greek: presbyteroi]. But a very important development takes place in the second half of our epoch. The prophets and teachers--as the result of causes which followed the naturalising of the Churches in the world--fell more and more into the background, and their function, the solemn service of the word, began to pass over to the officials of the community, the bishops, who already played a great rôle in the public worship. At the same time, however, it appeared more and more fitting to entrust one official, as chief leader (superintendent of public worship), with the reception of gifts and their administration, together with the care of the unity of public worship, that is, to appoint one bishop instead of a number of bishops, leaving, however, as before, the college of presbyters, as [Greek: proistamenoi tês ekklêsias], a kind of senate of the community.[295] Moreover, the idea of the chosen bishops and deacons as the antitypes of the Priests and Levites, had been formed at an early period in connection with the idea of the new sacrifice. But we find also the idea, which is probably the earlier of the two, that the prophets and teachers, as the commissioned preachers of the word, are the priests. The hesitancy in applying this important allegory must have been brought to an end by the disappearance of the latter view. But it must have been still more important that the bishops, or bishop, in taking over the functions of the old [Greek: lalountes ton logon], who were not Church officials, took over also the profound veneration with which they were regarded as the special organs of the Spirit. But the condition of the organisation in the communities about the year 140, seems to have been a very diverse one. Here and there, no doubt, the convenient arrangement of appointing only one bishop was carried out, while his functions had not perhaps been essentially increased, and the prophets and teachers were still the great spokesmen. Conversely, there may still have been in other communities a number of bishops, while the prophets and teachers no longer played regularly an important rôle. A fixed organisation was reached, and the Apostolic episcopal constitution established, only in consequence of the so-called Gnostic crisis, which was epoch-making in every respect. One of its most important presuppositions, and one that has struck very deep into the development of doctrine must, however, be borne in mind here. As the Churches traced back all the laws according to which they lived, and all the blessings they held sacred, to the tradition of the twelve Apostles, because they regarded them as Christian only on that presupposition, they also in like manner, as far as we can discover, traced back their organisation of presbyters, i.e., of bishops and deacons, to Apostolic appointment. The notion which followed quite naturally, was that the Apostles themselves had appointed the first church officials.[296] That idea may have found support in some actual cases of the kind, but this does not need to be considered here; for these cases would not have led to the setting up of a theory. But the point in question here is a theory, which is nothing else than an integral part of the general theory, that the twelve Apostles were in every respect the middle term between Jesus and the present Churches (see above, p. 158). This conception is earlier than the great Gnostic crisis, for the Gnostics also shared it. But no special qualities of the officials, but only of the Church itself, were derived from it, and it was believed that the independence and sovereignty of the Churches were in no way endangered by it, because an institution by Apostles was considered equivalent to an institution by the Holy Spirit, whom they possessed, and whom they followed. The independence of the Churches rested precisely on the fact that they had the Spirit in their midst. The conception here briefly sketched, was completely transformed in the following period by the addition of another idea--that of Apostolic succession,[297] and then became, together with the idea of the specific priesthood of the leader of the Church, the most important means of exalting the office above the community.[298] _Supplementary._ This review of the common faith and the beginnings of knowledge, worship and organisation, in the earliest Gentile Christianity, will have shewn that the essential premises for the development of Catholicism were already in existence before the middle of the second century, and before the burning conflict with Gnosticism. We may see this, whether we look at the peculiar form of the _Kerygma_, or at the expression of the idea of tradition, or at the theology with its moral and philosophic attitude. We may therefore conclude that the struggle with Gnosticism hastened the development, but did not give it a new direction. For the Greek spirit, the element which was most operative in Gnosticism, was already concealed in the earliest Gentile Christianity itself: it was the atmosphere which one breathed; but the elements peculiar to Gnosticism were for the most part rejected.[299] We may even go back a step further (see above, pp. 41, 76). The great Apostle to the Gentiles himself, in his epistle to the Romans, and in those to the Corinthians, transplanted the Gospel into Greek modes of thought. He attempted to expound it with Greek ideas, and not only called the Greeks to the Old Testament and the Gospel, but also introduced the Gospel as a leaven into the religious and philosophic world of Greek ideas. Moreover, in his pneumatico-cosmic Christology he gave the Greeks an impulse towards a theologoumenon, at whose service they could place their whole philosophy and mysticism. He preached the foolishness of Christ crucified, and yet in doing so, proclaimed the wisdom of the nature-vanquishing Spirit, the heavenly Christ. From this moment was established a development which might indeed assume very different forms, but in which all the forces and ideas of Hellenism must gradually pass over to the Gospel. But even with this the last word has not been said; on the contrary, we must remember that the Gospel itself belonged to the fulness of the times, which is indicated by the inter-action of the Old Testament and the Hellenic religions (see above, pp. 41, 56). The documents which have been preserved from the first century of the Gentile Church are, in their relation to the history of Dogma, very diverse. In the Didache we have a Catechism for Christian life, dependent on a Jewish Greek Catechism, and giving expression to what was specifically Christian in the prayers, and in the order of the Church. The Epistle of Barnabas, probably of Alexandrian origin, teaches the correct, Christian, interpretation of the Old Testament, rejects the literal interpretation and Judaism as of the devil, and in Christology essentially follows Paul. The Romish first Epistle of Clement, which also contains other Pauline reminiscences (reconciliation and justification) represents the same Christology, but it set it in a moralistic mode of thought. This is a most typical writing in which the spirit of tradition, order, stability, and the universal ecclesiastical guardianship of Rome is already expressed. The moralistic mode of thought is classically represented by the Shepherd of Hermas, and the second Epistle of Clement, in which, besides, the eschatological element is very prominent. We have in the Shepherd the most important document for the Church Christianity of the age, reflected in the mirror of a prophet who, however, takes into account the concrete relations. The theology of Ignatius is the most advanced, in so far as he, opposing the Gnostics, brings the facts of salvation into the foreground, and directs his Gnosis not so much to the Old Testament as to the history of Christ. He attempts to make Christ [Greek: kata pneuma] and [Greek: kata sarka] the central point of Christianity. In this sense his theology and speech is Christocentric, related to that of Paul and the fourth Evangelist, (specially striking is the relationship with Ephesians), and is strongly contrasted with that of his contemporaries. Of kindred spirit with him are Melito and Irenæus, whose forerunner he is. He is related to them as Methodius at a later period was related to the classical orthodox theology of the fourth and fifth centuries. This parallel is appropriate, not merely in point of form: it is rather one and the same tendency of mind which passes over from Ignatius to Melito, Irenæus, Methodius, Athanasius, Gregory of Nyssa (here, however, mixed with Origenic elements), and to Cyril of Alexandria. Its characteristic is that not only does the person of Christ as the God-man form the central point and sphere of theology, but also that all the main points of his history are mysteries of the world's redemption. (Ephes. 19). But Ignatius is also distinguished by the fact that behind all that is enthusiastic, pathetic, abrupt, and again all that pertains to liturgical form, we find in his epistles a true devotion to Christ ([Greek: ho theos mou]). He is laid hold of by Christ: Cf. Ad. Rom. 6: [Greek: ekeinon zêtô, ton hyper hêmôn apothanonta, ekeinon thelô ton di' hêmas anastanta]; Rom. 7: [Greek: ho emos erôs estaurôtai kai ouk estin en emoi pur philoulon]. As a sample of his theological speech and his rule of faith, see ad. Smyrn. 1: [Greek: enoêsa humas katêrtismenous en akinêtô pistei, hôsper kathêlômenous en tô staurô tou kuriou Iêsou Christou sarki te kai pneumati kai hêdrasmenous en agapê en tô haimati Christou, peplêrophorêmenous eis ton kuriou hêmôn, alêthôs onta ek genous Dabid kata sarka, huion theou kata thelêma kai dunamin theou, gegenêmenon alêthôs ek parthenou, bebaptismenon hypo Iôannou, hina plêrôthê pasa dikaiosunê hup' autou, alêthôs epi Pontiou Pilatou kai Hêrôdou tetrarchou kathêlômenon huper hêmôn en sarki--aph' hou karpou hêmeis, apo tou theomakaritou autou pathous--hina arê sussêmon eis tous aiônas dia tês anastaseôs eis tous agious kai pistous autou eite en Ioudaious eite en ethnesin en heni sômati tês ekklêsias autou]. The Epistle of Polycarp is characterised by its dependence on earlier Christian writings (Epistles of Paul, 1 Peter, 1 John), consequently, by its conservative attitude with regard to the most valuable traditions of the Apostolic period. The _Kerygma_ of Peter exhibits the transition from the early Christian literature to the apologetic (Christ as [Greek: nomos] and as [Greek: logos]). It is manifest that the lineage, "Ignatius, Polycarp, Melito, Irenæus", is in characteristic contrast with all others, has deep roots in the Apostolic age, as in Paul and in the Johannine writings, and contains in germ important factors of the future formation of dogma, as it appeared in Methodius, Athanasius, Marcellus, Cyril of Jerusalem. It is very doubtful therefore, whether we are justified in speaking of an Asia Minor theology. (Ignatius does not belong to Asia Minor.) At any rate, the expression, Asia Minor-Romish Theology, has no justification. But it has its truth in the correct observation, that the standards by which Christianity and Church matters were measured and defined, must have been similar in Rome and Asia Minor during the second century. We lack all knowledge of the closer connections. We can only again refer to the journey of Polycarp to Rome, to that of Irenæus by Rome to Gaul, to the journey of Abercius and others (cf. also the application of the Montanist communities in Asia Minor for recognition by the Roman bishop). In all probability, Asia Minor, along with Rome, was the spiritual centre of Christendom from about 60-200: but we have but few means for describing how this centre was brought to bear on the circumference. What we do know belongs more to the history of the Church than to the special history of dogma. _Literature._--The writings of the so-called Apostolic Fathers. See the edition of v. Gebhardt, Harnack, Zahn, 1876. Hilgenfeld, Nov. Test. extra Can. recept. fasc. IV. 2 edit. 1884, has collected further remains of early Christian literature. The Teaching of the twelve Apostles. Fragments of the Gospel and Apocalypse of Peter (my edition, 1893). Also the writings of Justin and other apologists, in so far as they give disclosures about the faith of the communities of his time, as well as statements in Celsus [Greek: Alêthês Logos], in Irenæus, Clement of Alexandria, and Tertullian. Even Gnostic fragments may be cautiously turned to profit. Ritschl, Entstehung der altkath. Kirche 2 Aufl. 1857. Pfleiderer, Das Urchristenthum, 1887. Renan, Origins of Christianity, vol. V. V. Engelhardt, Das Christenthum Justin's, d. M. 1878, p. 375 ff. Schenkel, Das Christusbild der Apostel, etc., 1879. Zahn, Gesch. des N.-Tlichen Kanons, 2 Bde. 1888. Behm, Das Christliche Gesetzthum der Apostolischen Väter (Zeitschr. f. kirchl. Wissensch. 1886). Dorner, History of the doctrine of the Person of Christ, 1845. Schultz, Die Lehre von der Gottheit Christi, 1881, p. 22 ff. Höfling. Die Lehre der ältesten Kirche vom Opfer, 1851. Höfling, Das Sacrament d. Taufe, 1848. Kahnis, Die Lehre vom Abendmahl, 1851. Th. Harnack, Der Christliche Gemeindegottedienst im Apost. u. Altkath. Zeitalter, 1854. Hatch, Organisation of the Early Church, 1883. My Prolegomena to the Didache (Texte u. Unters. II. Bd. H. 1, 2). Diestel, Gesch. des A.T. in der Christi. Kirche, 1869. Sohm, Kirchenrecht, 1892, Monographs on the Apostolic Fathers: on 1 Clem.: Lipsius, Lightfoot (most accurate commentary), Wrede; on 2 Clem.: A. Harnack (Ztschr. f. K. Gesch. 1887); on Barnabas: J. Müller; on Hermas: Zahn, Hückstädt, Link; on Papias: Weiffenbach, Leimbach, Zahn, Lightfoot; on Ignatius and Polycarp: Lightfoot (accurate commentary) and Zahn; on the Gospel and Apocalypse of Peter: A. Harnack: on the Kerygma of Peter: von Dobschütz; on Acts of Thecla: Schlau. [Footnote 162: The statements made in this chapter need special forbearance, especially as the selection from the rich and motley material--cf. only the so-called Apostolic Fathers--the emphasising of this, the throwing into the background of that element, cannot here be vindicated. It is not possible, in the compass of a brief account, to give expression to that elasticity and those oscillations of ideas and thoughts which were peculiar to the Christians of the earliest period. There was indeed, as will be shewn, a complex of tradition in many respects fixed, but this complex was still under the dominance of an enthusiastic fancy, so that what at one moment seemed fixed, in the next had disappeared. Finally, attention must be given to the fact that when we speak of the beginnings of knowledge, the members of the Christian community in their totality are no longer in question, but only individuals who of course were the leaders of the others. If we had no other writings from the times of the Apostolic Fathers than the first Epistle of Clement and the Epistle of Polycarp, it would be comparatively easy to sketch a clear history of the development connecting Paulinism with the old-Catholic Theology as represented by Irenæus, and so to justify the traditional ideas. But besides these two Epistles which are the classic monuments of the mediating tradition, we have a great number of documents which shew us how manifold and complicated the development was. They also teach us how careful we should be in the interpretation of the post-Apostolic documents that immediately followed the Pauline Epistles, and that we must give special heed to the paragraphs and ideas in them, which distinguish them from Paulinism. Besides, it is of the greatest importance that those two Epistles originated in Rome and Asia Minor, as these are the places where we must seek the embryonic stage of old-Catholic doctrine. Numerous fine threads, in the form of fundamental ideas and particular views, pass over from the Asia Minor theology of the post-Apostolic period into the old-Catholic theology.] [Footnote 163: The Epistle to the Hebrews (X. 25), the Epistle of Barnabas (IV. 10), the Shepherd of Hermas (Sim. IX. 26, 3), but especially the Epistles of Ignatius and still later documents, shew that up to the middle of the second Century, and even later, there were Christians who, for various reasons, stood outside the union of communities, or wished to have only a loose and temporary relation to them. The exhortation: [Greek: epi to auto sunerchomenoi sunzêteite peri tou koinê sumpherontos] (see my note on Didache, XVI. 2, and cf.) for the expression the interesting State Inscription which was found at Magnesia on the Meander. Bull, Corresp. Hellen 1883, p. 506: [Greek: apagoreuo mête sunerchesthai tous artokokous kat' hetairian mête parestêkotas thrasunesthai, peitharchein de pantôs tois huper tou koinê sumpherontos epitattomenois k.t.l.] or the exhortation: [Greek: kollasthe tois hagiois, hoti hoi kollômenoi autois hagiasthêsontai] (1 Clem. 46. 2, introduced as [Greek: graphê]) runs through most of the writings of the post-Apostolic and pre-catholic period. New doctrines were imported by wandering Christians who, in many cases, may not themselves have belonged to a community, and did not respect the arrangements of those they found in existence, but sought to form conventicles. If we remember how the Greeks and Romans were wont to get themselves initiated into a mystery cult, and took part for a long time in the religious exercises, and then, when they thought they had got the good of it, for the most part or wholly to give up attending, we shall not wonder that the demand to become a permanent member of a Christian community was opposed by many. The statements of Hermas are specially instructive here.] [Footnote 164: "Corpus sumus," says Tertullian at a time when this description had already become an anachronism, "de conscientia religionis et disciplinæ unitate et spei foedere." (Apol. 39: cf. Ep. Petri ad Jacob. I.: [Greek: eis theos, eis nomos, mia elpis]). The description was applicable to the earlier period, when there was no such thing as a federation with political forms, but when the consciousness of belonging to a community and of forming a brotherhood ([Greek: adelphotês]) was all the more deeply felt: See, above all, 1 Clem ad Corinth., the Didache (9-15), Aristides, Apol 15: "and when they have become Christians, they call them (the slaves) brethren without hesitation ... for they do not call them brethren according to the flesh, but according to the spirit and in God;" cf. also the statements on brotherhood in Tertullian and Minucius Felix (also Lucian). We have in 1 Clem. I. 2, the delineation of a perfect Christian Church. The Epistles of Ignatius are specially instructive as to the independence of each individual community: 1 Clem. and Didache, as to the obligation to assist stranger communities by counsel and action, and to support the travelling brethren. As every Christian is a [Greek: paroikos] so every community is a [Greek: paroikousa tên polin] but it is under obligation to give an example to the world, and must watch that "the name be not blasphemed." The importance of the social element in the oldest Christian communities, has been very justly brought into prominence in the latest works on the subject (Renan, Heinrici, Hatch). The historian of dogma must also emphasise it, and put the fluid notions of the faith in contrast with the definite consciousness of moral tasks. See 1 Clem. 47-50; Polyc. Ep. 3; Didache 1 ff.; Ignat. ad Eph. 14, on [Greek: agapê] as the main requirement Love demands that everyone "[Greek: zêtei to koinôpheles pasin kai mê to heautou]" (1 Clem. 48. 6, with parallels; Didache 16. 3; Barn. 4. 10; Ignatius).] [Footnote 165: 1 Clem. 59. 2. in the Church prayer; [Greek: hopôs ton arithmon ton katêrithmênon tôn eklektôn autou en holô tôi kosmô diaphulaxê athrauston ho dêmiourgos tôn hapantôn dia tou êgapêmenou paidos autou Iêsou Christou].] [Footnote 166: See 1 Clem., 2 Clem., Ignatius (on the basis of the Pauline view; but see also Rev. II. 9).] [Footnote 167: See Hermas (the passage is given above, p. 103, note).] [Footnote 168: See Hermas Vis. I-III. Papias. Fragm. VI. and VII. of my edition. 2 Clem. 14: [Greek: poiountes to thelêma tou patros hêmôn esometha ek tês ekklêsias tês prôtês tês pneumatikês, tês pro hêliou kai selênês ektismenes.... ekklêsia zôsa sôma esti Christou legei gar hê graphê epoiêsen ho theos ton anthrôpon arsen kai thêlu. to arsen estin ho Christos, to thêlu hê ekklêsia].] [Footnote 169: See Barn. 13 (2 Clem. 2).] [Footnote 170: See Valentinus in Clem. Strom. VI. 6. 52. "Holy Church", perhaps also in Marcion, if his text (Zahn. Gesch. des N.T.-lichen Kanons, II. p. 502) in Gal. IV. 21, read: [Greek: hêtis estin mêtêr humôn, gennôsa eis hên epengeilametha hagian ekklêsian].] [Footnote 171: Barn. 3. 6.] [Footnote 172: We are also reminded here of the "tertium genus." The nickname of the heathen corresponded to the self-consciousness of the Christians (see Aristides, Apol).] [Footnote 173: See also the letter of Pliny the paragraphs about Christian morality, in the first third part of Justin's apology and especially the apology of Aristides c. 15. Aristides portrays Christianity by portraying Christian morality. The Christians know and believe in God the creator of heaven and of earth, the God by whom all things consist, i.e. in him from whom they have received the commandments which they have written in their hearts commandments, which they observe in faith and in the expectation of the world to come. For this reason they do not commit adultery, nor practise unchastity, nor bear false witness, nor covet that with which they are entrusted or what does not belong to them, etc. Compare how in the Apocalypse of Peter definite penalties in hell are portrayed for the several forms of immorality.] [Footnote 174: An investigation of the Greco Jewish Christian literature of norms and moral rules commencing with the Old Testament doctrine of wisdom on the one hand and the Stoic collections on the other then passing beyond the Alexandrian and Evangelic norms up to the Didache, the Pauline tables of domestic duties, the Sibylline sayings, Phocylides, the Neopythagorean rules and to the norms of the enigmatic Sextus, is still an unfulfilled task. The moral rules of the Pharisaic Rabbis should also be included.] [Footnote 175: Herm. Mand. I. has merely fixed the Monotheistic confession [Greek: proton pantôn pisteuson, hoti eis estin ho theos, ho ta panta ktisas kai katartisas k.t.l.] See Praed Petri in Clem Strom VI. 6, 48, VI. 5, 39. Aristides gives in c. 2 of his Apology the preaching of Jesus Christ but where he wishes to give a short expression of Christianity he is satisfied with saying that Christians are those who have found the one true God. See e.g. c. 15. Christians have found the truth. They know and believe in God the creator of heaven and of earth by whom all things consist and from whom all things come who has no other god beside him and from whom they have received commandments which they have written on their hearts, commandments which they observe in faith and in expectation of the world to come. It is interesting to note how Origen Comm. in Joh. XXXII. 9 has brought the Christological Confession into approximate harmony with that of Hermas. First Mand. I. is verbally repeated and then it is said [Greek: chrê de kai pisteuein, hoti kurios Iêsous Christos kai pase tê peri autou kata tên theotêta kai tên anthropôteta alêtheia dei de kai eis to hagion pisteuein pneuma, kai hoti autexousioi ontes kolazometha men eph' hois hamartanomen timômetha de eph' hois eu prattomen].] [Footnote 176: Very instructive here is 2 Clem. ad Corinth. 20, 5 [Greek: to monô theo aorato, patri tês alêtheias, tô exatosteilanti hêmin ton sôtêra kai archêgon tês aphtharsias, di' ou kai ephanerôsen hêmin tên alêtheian kai tên epouranion zôên, autô he doxa]. On the Holy Spirit see previous note.] [Footnote 177: They were quoted as [Greek: hê graphê, ta biblia], or with the formula [Greek: ho theos (kurios) legei, gegraptai]. Also Law and Prophets. Law Prophets and Psalms. See the original of the first six books of the Apostolic Constitutions.] [Footnote 178: See the collection of passages in Patr. App. Opp. edit. Gebhardt. 1. 2 p. 133, and the formula, Diogn. 11: [Greek: apostolôn genomenos mathêtês ginomai didaskalos ethnôn, ta paradothenta axiôs hupêretôn ginomenois alêtheias mathêtais]. Besides the Old Testament and the traditions about Jesus (Gospels), the Apocalyptic writings of the Jews, which were regarded as writings of the Spirit, were also drawn upon. Moreover, Christian letters and manifestoes proceeding from Apostles, prophets, or teachers, were read. The Epistles of Paul were early collected and obtained wide circulation in the first half of the second century; but they were not Holy Scripture in the specific sense, and therefore their authority was not unqualified.] [Footnote 179: Barn. 5. 6, [Greek: hoi prophetai, apo tou kuriou echontes tên charin, eis auton eprophêteusan]. Ignat. ad Magn. 8. 2. cf. also Clem. Paedag. I. 7. 59: [Greek: ho gar autos houtos paidagôgos tote men "phobêthêsê kurion ton theon elegen, hêmin de agapêseis kurion ton theon sou" tarênesen. dia touto kai entelletai hêmin "pausasthe apo tôn ergôn humôn" tôn palaiôn hamartiôn, "mathete kalon poiein, ekklinon apo kakou kai poiêson agathon, êgapêsas dikaiosunên, emisêsas anomian" hautê mou hê nea diathêkê palaìoi kecharagmenê grammati].] [Footnote 180: See above § 5, p. 114 f.] [Footnote 181: See my edition of the Didache. Prolegg. p. 32 ff.; Rothe, "De disciplina arcani origine," 1841.] [Footnote 182: The earliest example is 1 Cor. XI. 1 f. It is different in 1 Tim. III. 16, where already the question is about [Greek: to tês eusebeias mystêrion]. See Patr. App. Opp. 1. 2. p. 134.] [Footnote 183: Father, son, and spirit: Paul; Matt XXVIII. 19; 1 Clem. ad. Cor. 58. 2 (see 2. 1. f.; 42. 3; 46. 6); Didache 7; Ignat. Eph. 9. 1; Magn. 13. 1. 2.; Philad. inscr.; Mart. Polyc. 14. 1. 2; Ascens. Isai. 8 18:9. 27:10. 4:11. 32ff;, Justin _passim_; Montan. ap. Didym. de trinit. 411; Excerpta ex Theodot. 80; Pseudo Clem. de virg. 1 13. Yet the omission of the Holy Spirit is frequent, as in Paul, or the Holy Spirit is identified with the Spirit of Christ. The latter takes place even with such writers as are familiar with the baptismal formula. Ignat. ad Magn. 15; [Greek: kektêmenoi adiakriton pneuma, hos estin Iêsous Christos.].] [Footnote 184: The formulæ run: "God who has spoken through the Prophets," or the "Prophetic Spirit," etc.] [Footnote 185: That should be assumed as certain in the case of the Egyptian Church, yet Caspari thinks he can shew that already Clement of Alexandria presupposes a symbol.] [Footnote 186: Also in the communities of Asia Minor (Smyrna); for a combination of Polyc. Ep. c. 2 with c. 7, proves that in Smyrna the [Greek: paradotheis logos] must have been something like the Roman Symbol, see Lightfoot on the passage; it cannot be proved that it was identical with it. See, further, how in the case of Polycarp the moral element is joined on to the dogmatic. This reminds us of the Didache and has its parallel even in the first homily of Aphraates.] [Footnote 187: See Caspari, Quellen z. Gesch. des Taufsymbols, III. p. 3 ff. and Patr. App. Opp. 1. 2. p 115-142. The old Roman Symbol reads: [Greek: Pisteuô eis theon patera pantokratora, kai eis Christon Iêsoun (ton) huion autou ton monogenê], (on this word see Westcott's Excursus in his commentary on 1st John) [Greek: ton kurion hêmôn ton gennêthenta ek pneumatos hagiou kai Marias tês parthenou, ton epi Pontiou Pilatou staurôthenta kai taphenta; tê tritê hêmerai anastanta ek nekrôn, anabanta eis tous ouranous, kathêmenon en dexia tou patros, hothen erchetai krinai zôntas kai nekrous. kai eis pneuma hagion, hagian ekklêsian, aphesin hamartiôn sarkos anastasin, amên]. To estimate this very important article aright we must note the following: (1) It is not a formula of doctrine, but of confession. (2) It has a liturgical form which is shewn in the rhythm and in the disconnected succession of its several members, and is free from everything of the nature of polemic. (3) It tapers off into the three blessings, Holy Church, forgiveness of sin, resurrection of the body, and in this as well as in the fact that there is no mention of [Greek: gnôsis (alêtheia) kai zôê aiônos], is revealed an early Christian untheological attitude. (4) It is worthy of note, on the other hand, that the birth from the Virgin occupies the first place, and all reference to the baptism of Jesus, also to the Davidic Sonship, is wanting. (5) It is further worthy of note, that there is no express mention of the death of Jesus, and that the Ascension already forms a special member (that is also found elsewhere, Ascens. Isaiah, c. 3. 13. ed. Dillmann. p. 13. Murator. Fragment, etc.). Finally, we should consider the want of the earthly Kingdom of Christ and the mission of the twelve Apostles, as well as, on the other hand, the purely religious attitude, no notice being taken of the new law. Zahn (Das Apostol. Symbolum, 1893) assumes, "That in all essential respects the identical baptismal confession which Justin learned in Ephesus about 130, and Marcion confessed in Rome about 145, originated at latest somewhere about 120." In some "unpretending notes" (p. 37 ff.) he traces this confession back to a baptismal confession of the Pauline period ("it had already assumed a more or less stereotyped form in the earlier Apostolic period"), which, however, was somewhat revised, so far as it contained, for example, "of the house of David", with reference to Christ. "The original formula, reminding us of the Jewish soil of Christianity, was thus remodelled, perhaps about 70-120, with retention of the fundamental features, so that it might appear to answer better to the need of candidates for baptism, proceeding more and more from the Gentiles.... This changed formula soon spread on all sides. It lies at the basis of all the later baptismal confessions of the Church, even of the East. The first article was slightly changed in Rome about 200-220." While up till then, in Rome as everywhere else, it had read [Greek: pisteuô eis hena theon pantokratora], it was now changed in [Greek: pisteuô eis theon patera pantokratora]. This hypothesis, with regard to the early history of the Roman Symbol, presupposes that the history of the formation of the baptismal confession in the Church, in east and west, was originally a uniform one. This cannot be proved; besides, it is refuted by the facts of the following period. It presupposes secondly, that there was a strictly formulated baptismal confession outside Rome before the middle of the second century, which likewise cannot be proved; (the converse rather is probable, that the fixed formulation proceeded from Rome.) Moreover, Zahn himself retracts everything again by the expression "more or less stereotyped form;" for what is of decisive interest here is the question, when and where the fixed sacred form was produced. Zahn here has set up the radical thesis that it can only have taken place in Rome between 200 and 220. But neither his negative nor his positive proof for a change of the Symbol in Rome at so late a period is sufficient. No sure conclusion as to the Symbol can be drawn from the wavering _regulæ fidei_ of Irenæus and Tertullian which contain the "unum"; further, the "unum" is not found in the western provincial Symbols, which, however, are in part earlier than the year 200. The Romish correction must therefore have been subsequently taken over in the provinces (Africa?). Finally, the formula [Greek: theon patera pantokratora] beside the more frequent [Greek: theon pantokratora] is attested by Irenæus, I. 10. 1, a decisive passage. With our present means we cannot attain to any direct knowledge of Symbol formation before the Romish Symbol. But the following hypotheses, which I am not able to establish here, appear to me to correspond to the facts of the case and to be fruitful: (1) There were, even in the earliest period, separate _Kerygmata_ about God and Christ: see the Apostolic writings, Hermas, Ignatius, etc. (2) The _Kerygma_ about God was the confession of the one God of creation, the almighty God. (3) The _Kerygma_ about Christ had essentially the same historical contents everywhere, but was expressed in diverse forms: (a) in the form of the fulfilment of prophecy, (b) in the form [Greek: kata sarka, kata pneuma], (c) in the form of the first and second advent, (d) in the form, [Greek: katabas-anabas]; these forms were also partly combined. (4) The designations "Christ", "Son of God" and "Lord"; further, the birth from the Holy Spirit, or [Greek: kata pneuma], the sufferings (the practice of exorcism contributed also to the fixing and naturalising of the formula "crucified under Pontius Pilate"), the death, the resurrection, the coming again to judgment, formed the stereotyped content of the _Kerygma_ about Jesus. The mention of the Davidic Sonship, of the Virgin Mary, of the baptism by John, of the third day, of the descent into Hades, of the _demonstratio veræ carnis post resurrectionem_, of the ascension into heaven and the sending out of the disciples, were additional articles which appeared here and there. The [Greek: sarka labon], and the like, were very early developed out of the forms (b) and (d). All this was already in existence at the transition of the first century to the second. (5) The proper contribution of the Roman community consisted in this, that it inserted the _Kerygma_ about God and that about Jesus into the baptismal formula, widened the clause referring to the Holy Spirit, into one embracing Holy Church, forgiveness of sin, resurrection of the body, excluded theological theories in other respects, undertook a reduction all round, and accurately defined everything up to the last world. (6) The western _regulæ fidei_ do not fall back exclusively on the old Roman Symbol, but also on the earlier freer _Kerygmata_ about God and about Jesus which were common to the east and west; not otherwise can the _regulæ fidei_ of Irenæus and Tertullian, for example, be explained. But the symbol became more and more the support of the _regula_. (7) The eastern confessions (baptismal symbols) do not fall back directly on the Roman Symbol, but were probably on the model of this symbol, made up from the provincial _Kerygmata_, rich in contents and growing ever richer, hardly, however, before the third century. (8) It cannot be proved, and it is not probable, that the Roman Symbol was in existence before Hermas, that is, about 135.] [Footnote 188: See the fragment in Euseb. H. E. III. 39, from the work of Papias.] [Footnote 189: [Greek: Didachê kurion dia tôn ib' apostolôn] (Did. inscr.) is the most accurate expression (similarly 2 Pet. III. 2). Instead of this might be said simply [Greek: ho kurios] (Hegesipp.). Hegesippus (Euseb. H. E. IV. 22. 3; See also Steph. Gob.) comprehends the ultimate authorities under the formula: [Greek: hôs ho nomos kêrussei kai hoi prophêtai kai ho kurios], just as even Pseudo Clem de Virg. I. 2: "Sicut ex lege ac prophetis et a domino nostro Jesu Christo didicimus." Polycarp (6.3) says: [Greek: kathôs autos eneteilato kaì hoi euangelisamenoi hêmas apostoloi kai hoi prophêtai hoi prokêruxantes tên eleusin tou kuriou hêmôn]. In the second Epistle of Clement (14. 2) we read: [Greek: ta biblia] (O.T.) [Greek: kai hoi apostoloi, to euangelion] may also stand for [Greek: ho kurios]; (Ignat., Didache. 2 Clem. etc.). The Gospel, so far as it is described, is quoted as [Greek: ta apomnêmoneumata t. apostolôn] (Justin, Tatian), or on the other hand, as [Greek: hai kuriakai graphai], (Dionys. Cor. in Euseb. H. E. IV. 23. 12: at a later period in Tertull. and Clem. Alex.). The words of the Lord, in the same way as the words of God, are called simply [Greek: ta logia (kuriaka)]. The declaration of Serapion at the beginning of the third century (Euseb., H. E. VI. 12. 3): [Greek: hêmeis kai Petron kai tous allous apostolous apodechometha hôs Christon], is an innovation in so far as it puts the words of the Apostles fixed in writing and as distinct from the words of the Lord, on a level with the latter. That is, while differentiating the one from the other, Serapion ascribes to the words of the apostles and those of the Lord equal authority. But the development which led to this position, had already begun in the first century. At a very early period there were read in the communities, beside the Old Testament, Gospels, that is collections of words of the Lord, which at the same time contained the main facts of the history of Jesus. Such notes were a necessity (Luke 1.4; [Greek: hina epignôs peri hôn katêchêthês logôn tên asphaleian]), and though still indefinite and in many ways unlike, they formed the germ for the genesis of the New Testament. (See Weiss, Lehrb. d. Einleit in d. N. T. p. 21 ff.). Further there were read Epistles and Manifestoes by apostles, prophets and teachers, but, above all, Epistles of Paul. The Gospels at first stood in no connection with these Epistles, however high they might be prized. But there did exist a connection between the Gospels and the [Greek: ap' archês autoptais kai hupêretais tou logou], so far as these mediated the tradition of the Evangelic material, and on their testimony rests the _Kerygma_ of the Church about the Lord as the Teacher, the crucified and risen One. Here lies the germ for the genesis of a canon which will comprehend the Lord and the Apostles, and will also draw in the Pauline Epistles. Finally, Apocalypses were read as Holy Scriptures.] [Footnote 190: Read, apart from all others, the canonical Gospels, the remains of the so-called Apocryphal Gospels, and perhaps the Shepherd of Hermas: see also the statements of Papias.] [Footnote 191: That Peter was in Antioch follows from Gal. II.; that he laboured in Corinth, perhaps before the composition of the first epistle to the Corinthians, is not so improbable as is usually maintained (1 Cor.; Dionys. of Corinth); that he was at Rome even is very credible. The sojourn of John in Asia Minor cannot, I think, be contested.] [Footnote 192: See how in the three early "writings of Peter" (Gospel, Apocalypse, _Kerygma_) the twelve are embraced in a perfect unity. Peter is the head and spokesman for them all.] [Footnote 193: See Papias and the Reliq. Presbyter, ap. Iren., collecta in Patr. Opp. I. 2, p. 105: see also Zahn, Forschungen. III., p. 156 f.] [Footnote 194: The Gentile-Christian conception of the significance of the twelve--a fact to be specially noted--was all but unanimous (see above Chap. II.): the only one who broke through it was Marcion. The writers of Asia Minor, Rome and Egypt coincide in this point. Beside the Acts of the Apostles, which is specially instructive, see 1 Clem. 42; Barn 5. 9, 8. 3: Didache inscr.; Hermas, Vis. III. 5, 11; Sim. IX. 15, 16, 17, 25; Petrusev-Petrusapok. Præd. Petr. ap. Clem. Strom. VI. 6, 48; Ignat. ad Trall. 3; ad Rom 4; ad Philad. 5; Papias; Polyc., Aristides; Justin _passim_; inferences from the great work of Irenæus, the works of Tertull. and Clem. Alex; the Valentinians. The inference that follows from the eschatological hope, that the Gospel has already been preached to the world, and the growing need of having a tradition mediated by eye-witnesses co-operated here, and out of the twelve who were in great part obscure, but who had once been authoritative in Jerusalem and Palestine, and highly esteemed in the Christian Diaspora from the beginning, though unknown, created a court of appeal, which presented itself as not only taking a second rank after the Lord himself, but as the medium through which alone the words of the Lord became the possession of Christendom, as he neither preached to the nations nor left writings. The importance of the twelve in the main body of the Church may at any rate be measured by the facts, that the personal activity of Jesus was confined to Palestine, that he left behind him neither a confession nor a doctrine, and that in this respect the tradition tolerated no more corrections. Attempts which were made in this direction, the fiction of a semi-Gentile origin of Christ, the denial of the Davidic Sonship, the invention of a correspondence between Jesus and Abgarus, meetings of Jesus with Greeks, and much else, belong only in part to the earliest period, and remained as really inoperative as they were uncertain (according to Clem. Alex., Jesus himself is the Apostle to the Jews; the twelve are the Apostles to the Gentiles in Euseb. H. E. VI. 141). The notion about the twelve Apostles evangelising the world in accordance with the commission of Jesus, is consequently to be considered as the means by which the Gentile Christians got rid of the inconvenient fact of the merely local activity of Jesus (compare how Justin expresses himself about the Apostles: their going out into all the world is to him one of the main articles predicted in the Old Testament, Apol. 1. 39; compare also the Apology of Aristides, c. 2, and the passage of similar tenor in the Ascension of Isaiah, where the "adventus XII. discipulorum" is regarded as one of the fundamental facts of salvation, c. 3. 13, ed. Dillmann, p 13, and a passage such as Iren. fragm. XXIX. in Harvey II., p. 494, where the parable about the grain of mustard seed is applied to the [Greek: logos epouranios] and the twelve Apostles; the Apostles are the branches [Greek: hup' hôn kladôn skepasthentes hoi pantes hôs ornea hupo kalian sunelthonta metelabon tês ex autôn proerchomenês edôdimou kai epouraniou trophês] Hippol. de Antichr. 61. Orig. c. Cels. III. 28). This means, as it was empty of contents, was very soon to prove the most convenient instrument for establishing ever new historical connections, and legitimising the _status quo_ in the communities. Finally, the whole catholic idea of tradition was rooted in that statement which was already, at the close of the first century, formulated by Clement of Rome (c. 42): [Greek: hoi apostoloi hêmin euêngelisthêsan apo tou kuriou Iêsou Christou, Iêsous ho christos apo tou theou exepemphthê. ho christos oun apo tou theou, kai hoi apostoloi apo tou Christou; egenonto oun amphotera eutaktôs ek thelêmatos theou, k.t.l.] Here, as in all similar statements which elevate the Apostles into the history of revelation, the unanimity of all the Apostles is always presupposed, so that the statement of Clem. Alex. (Strom VII., 17, 108: [Greek: mia hê pantôn gegone tôn apostolôn hôsper didaskalia houtôs de kai hê paradosis], see Tertull., de præscr. 32: "Apostoli non diversa inter se docuerent," Iren. alii), contains no innovation, but gives expression to an old idea: That the twelve unitedly proclaimed one and the same message, that they proclaimed it to the world, that they were chosen to this vocation by Christ, that the communities possess the witness of the Apostles as their rule of conduct (Excerp. ex Theod. 25 [Greek: hosper hupo tôn zôdion hê genesis dioikeitai houtôs hupo tôn apostolôn hê anagennêsis]) are authoritative theses which can be traced back as far as we have any remains of Gentile-Chnstian literature. It was thereby presupposed that the unanimous _kerygma_ of the twelve Apostles which the communities possess as [Greek: kanôn tês paradoseôs] (1 Clem. 7), was public and accessible to all. Yet the idea does not seem to have been everywhere kept at a distance that besides the _kerygma_ a still deeper knowledge was transmitted by the Apostles or by certain Apostles to particular Christians who were specially gifted. Of course we have no direct evidence of this, but the connection in which certain Gnostic unions stood at the beginning with the communities developing themselves to Catholicism and inferences from utterances of later writers (Clem. Alex. Tertull.), make it probable that this conception was present in the communities here and there even in the age of the so-called Apostolic Fathers. It may be definitely said that the peculiar idea of tradition ([Greek: theos--christos--hoi dodeka apostoloi--ekklêsiai]) in the Gentile Churches is very old but that it was still limited in its significance at the beginning and was threatened (1) by a wider conception of the idea 'Apostle' (besides, the fact is important that Asia Minor and Rome were the very places where a stricter idea of Apostle made its appearance. See my Edition of the Didache, p. 117), (2) by free prophets and teachers moved by the Spirit, who introduced new conceptions and rules and whose word was regarded as the word of God, (3) by the assumption not always definitely rejected, that besides the public tradition of the _kerygma_ there was a secret tradition. That Paul as a rule was not included in this high estimate of the Apostles is shewn by this fact among others, that the earlier Apocryphal Acts of the Apostles are much less occupied with his person than with the rest of the Apostles. The features of the old legends which make the Apostles in their deeds, their fate, nay even in appearance as far as possible, equal to the person of Jesus himself deserve special consideration (see, for example the descent of the Apostles into hell in Herm. Sim. IX. 16), for it is just here that the fact above established that the activity of the Apostles was to make up for the want of the activity of Jesus himself among the nations stands clearly out (See Acta Johannis ed. Zahn p 246 [Greek: ho eklexamenos hêmas eis apostolên ethnôn ho ekpempsas hêmas eis tên oikoumenen theos ho deixas heauton dia tôn apostolôn] also the remarkable declaration of Origen about the Chronicle of Phlegon [Hadrian], that what holds good of Christ, is in that Chronicle transferred to Peter; finally we may recall to mind the visions in which an Apostle suddenly appears as Christ). Between the judgment of value [Greek: hêmeis tous apostolous apodechometha hôs Christon] and those creations of fancy in which the Apostles appear as gods and demigods there is certainly a great interval but it can be proved that there are stages lying between these extreme points. It is therefore permissible to call to mind here the oldest Apocryphal Acts of the Apostles although they may have originated almost completely in Gnostic circles (see also the Pistis Sophia which brings a metaphysical theory to the establishment of the authority of the Apostles, p. 11, 14; see Texte u Unters VII. 2 p. 61 ff.). Gnosticism here as frequently elsewhere is related to common Christianity as excess progressing to the invention of a myth with a tendency to a historical theorem determined by the effort to maintain one's own position; cf. the article from the _kerygma_ of Peter in Clem. Strom. VI. 6, 48 [Greek: Exelexamên humas dôdeka mathêtas, k.t.l.] the introduction to the basal writing of the first 6 books of the Apostolic Constitutions and the introduction to the Egyptian ritual, [Greek: kata keleusin tou kuriou humôn k.t.l.] Besides it must be admitted that the origin of the idea of tradition and its connection with the twelve is obscure; what is historically reliable here has still to be investigated, even the work of Seufert (Der Urspr. u. d. Bedeutung des Apostolats in der christl Kirche der ersten zwei Jahrhunderte, 1887) has not cleared up the dark points. We will perhaps get more light by following the important hint given by Weizsäcker (Apost. Age p. 13 ff.) that Peter was the first witness of the resurrection, and was called such in the _kerygma_ of the communities (see 1 Cor. XV., 5 Luke XXIV. 34). The twelve Apostles are also further called [Greek: hoi peri ton Petron] (Mrc. fin. in L Ign. ad Smyrn. 3, cf. Luke VIII. 45, Acts II. 14, Gal. I. 18 f., 1 Cor. XV. 5), and it is a correct historical reminiscence when Chrysostom says (Hom. in Joh. 88), [Greek: ho Petros ekêritos ên tôn apostolôn kai stoma tôn mathêtôn kai koruphê tou chorou.] Now as Peter was really in personal relation with important Gentile-Christian communities, that which held good of him, the recognized head and spokesman of the twelve, was perhaps transferred to these. One has finally to remember that besides the appeal to the twelve there was in the Gentile Churches an appeal to Peter and Paul (but not for the evangelic _kerygma_) which has a certain historical justification, cf. Gal. II. 8, 1 Cor. I. 12 f., IX. 5, 1 Clem. Ign. ad Rom. 4 and the numerous later passages. Paul in claiming equality with Peter, though Peter was the head and mouth of the twelve and had himself been active in mission work, has perhaps contributed most towards spreading the authority of the twelve. It is notable how rarely we find any special appeal to John in the tradition of the main body of the Church. For the middle of the 2nd century the authority of the twelve Apostles may be expressed in the following statements: (1) They were missionaries for the world, (2) They ruled the Church and established Church Offices, (3) They guaranteed the true doctrine (a) by the tradition going back to them, (b) by writings, (4) They are the ideals of Christian life, (5) They are also directly mediators of salvation--though this point is uncertain.] [Footnote 195: See Didache c. 1-10, with parallel passages.] [Footnote 196: Cf., for example, the first epistle of Clement to the Corinthians with the Shepherd of Hermas. Both documents originated in Rome.] [Footnote 197: Compare how dogmatic and ethical elements are inseparably united in the Shepherd, in first and second Clement, as well as in Polycarp and Justin.] [Footnote 198: Note the hymnal parts of the Revelation of John, the great prayer with which the first epistle of Clement closes, the "carmen dicere Christo quasi deo," reported by Pliny, the eucharist prayer in the [Greek: Didachê], the hymn 1 Tim. III. 16, the fragments from the prayers which Justin quotes, and compare with these the declaration of the anonymous writer in Euseb. H. E. V. 28. 5, that the belief of the earliest Christians in the Deity of Christ might be proved from the old Christian hymns and odes. In the epistles of Ignatius the theology frequently consists of an aimless stringing together of articles manifestly originating in hymns and the cultus.] [Footnote 199: The prophet and teacher express what the Spirit of God suggests to them. Their word is therefore God's word, and their writings, in so far as they apply to the whole of Christendom, are inspired, holy writings. Further, not only does Acts XV. 22 f. exhibit the formula [Greek: edoxen tôi pneumati tôi hagiôi kai hêmin] (see similar passages in the Acts), but the Roman writings also appeal to the Holy Spirit (1 Clem. 63. 2): likewise Barnabas, Ignatius, etc. Even in the controversy about the baptism of heretics a Bishop gave his vote with the formula: "secundum motum animi mei et spiritus sancti" (Cypr. Opp. ed. Hartel, I. p. 457).] [Footnote 200: The so-called Chiliasm--the designation is unsuitable and misleading--is found wherever the Gospel is not yet Hellenised (see, for example, Barn. 4. 15; Hermas; 2 Clem.; Papias [Euseb. III. 39]; [Greek: Didachê], 10. 16; Apoc. Petri; Justin. Dial. 32, 51, 80, 82, 110, 139; Cerinthus), and must be regarded as a main element of the Christian preaching (see my article "Millenium" in the Encycl. Brit.) In it lay not the least of the power of Christianity in the first century, and the means whereby it entered the Jewish propaganda in the Empire and surpassed it. The hopes springing out of Judaism were at first but little modified, that is, only so far as the substitution of the Christian communities for the nation of Israel made modification necessary. In all else even the details of the Jewish hopes of the future were retained, and the extra-canonical Jewish Apocalypses (Esra, Enoch, Baruch, Moses, etc.) were diligently read alongside of Daniel. Their contents were in part joined on to sayings of Jesus and they served as models for similar productions (here therefore an enduring connection with the Jewish religion is very plain). In the Christian hopes of the future as in the Jewish eschatology may be distinguished essential and accidental fixed and fluid elements. To the former belong: (1) the notion of a final fearful conflict with the powers of the world which is just about to break out [Greek: to teleion skandalon engiken], (2) belief in the speedy return of Christ, (3) the conviction that after conquering the secular power (this was variously conceived as God's Ministers as that which restrains--2 Thess. II. 6, as a pure kingdom of Satan see the various estimates in Justin, Melito, Irenæus and Hippolytus) Christ will establish a glorious kingdom on the earth and will raise the saints to share in that kingdom, and (4) that he will finally judge all men. To the fluid elements belong the notions of the Antichrist or of the secular power culminating in the Antichrist as well as notions about the place, the extent, and the duration of Christ's glorious kingdom. But it is worthy of special note that Justin regarded the belief that Christ will set up his kingdom in Jerusalem, and that it will endure for 1000 years, as a necessary element of orthodoxy, though he confesses he knew Christians who did not share this belief, while they did not like the pseudo Christians reject also the resurrection of the body (the promise of Montanus that Christ's kingdom would be let down at Pepuza and Tymion is a thing by itself and answers to the other promises and pretensions of Montanus). The resurrection of the body is expressed in the Roman Symbol while very notably the hope of Christ's earthly kingdom is not there mentioned (see above p. 157). The great inheritance which the Gentile Christian communities received from Judaism is the eschatological hopes along with the Monotheism assured by revelation and belief in providence. The law as a national law was abolished. The Old Testament became a new book in the hands of the Gentile Christians. On the contrary the eschatological hopes in all their details and with all the deep shadows which they threw on the state and public life were at first received and maintained themselves in wide circles pretty much unchanged and only succumbed in some of their details--just as in Judaism--to the changes which resulted from the constant change of the political situation. But these hopes were also destined in great measure to pass away after the settlement of Christianity on Græco-Roman soil. We may set aside the fact that they did not occupy the foreground in Paul, for we do not know whether this was of importance for the period that followed. But that Christ would set up the kingdom in Jerusalem, and that it would be an earthly kingdom with sensuous enjoyments--these and other notions contend on the one hand with the vigorous antijudaism of the communities, and on the other with the moralistic spiritualism, in the pure carrying out of which the Gentile Christians in the East at least increasingly recognised the essence of Christianity. Only the vigorous world renouncing enthusiasm which did not permit the rise of moralistic spiritualism and mysticism, and the longing for a time of joy and dominion that was born of it, protected for a long time a series of ideas which corresponded to the spiritual disposition of the great multitude of converts only at times of special oppression. Moreover the Christians in opposition to Judaism were, as a rule, instructed to obey magistrates whose establishment directly contradicted the judgment of the state contained in the Apocalypses. In such a conflict however that judgment necessarily conquers at last which makes as little change as possible in the existing forms of life. A history of the gradual attenuation and subsidence of eschatologlcal hopes in the II.-IV. centuries can only be written in fragments. They have rarely--at best by fits and starts--marked out the course. On the contrary if I may say so they only gave the smoke, for the course was pointed out by the abiding elements of the Gospel, trust in God and the Lord Christ, the resolution to a holy life, and a firm bond of brotherhood. The quiet gradual change, in which the eschatologlcal hopes passed away fell into the background or lost important parts, was on the other hand a result of deep reaching changes in the faith and life of Christendom. Chiliasm as a power was broken up by speculative mysticism and on that account very much later in the West than in the East. But speculative mysticism has its centre in christology. In the earliest period this as a theory belonged more to the defence of religion than to religion itself. Ignatius alone was able to reflect on that transference of power from Christ which Paul had experienced. The disguises in which the apocalyptic eschatologlcal prophecies were set forth belonged in part to the form of this literature (in so far as one could easily be given the lie if he became too plain or in so far as the prophet really saw the future only in large outline) partly it had to be chosen in order not to give political offence. See Hippol. comm. in Daniel (Georgiades, p. 49, 51. [Greek: noein opheilomen ta kata kairon sumbainonta kai eidotas siôpan]), but above all Constantine orat. ad s. coetum 19, on some verses of Virgil which are interpreted in a Christian sense but that none of the rulers in the capital might be able to accuse their author of violating the laws of the state with his poetry or of destroying the traditional ideas of the procedure about the gods he concealed the truth under a veil. That holds good also of the Apocalyptists and the poets of the Christian Sibylline sayings.] [Footnote 201: The hope of the resurrection of the body (1 Clem. 26. 3 [Greek: anasteseis ten sarka mou tauten], Herm. Sim. V. 7. 2 [Greek: blepe mêtote anabê epi tên kardian sou tên sarka sou tautên phthartên einai]. Barn. 5. 6 f., 21. 1, 2 Clem. 9. 1 [Greek: kai mê legetô tis humôn oti hautê hê sarx ou krinetai oude anistatai]. Polyc. Ep. 7. 2, Justin Dial. 80, etc.) finds its place originally in the hope of a share in the glorious kingdom of Christ. It therefore disappears or is modified wherever that hope itself falls into the background. But it finally asserted itself through out and became of independent importance in a new structure of eschatologlcal expectations in which it attained the significance of becoming the specific conviction of Christian faith. With the hope of the resurrection of the body was originally connected the hope of a happy life in easy blessedness under green trees in magnificent fields with joyous feeding flocks and flying angels clothed in white. One must read the Revelation of Peter the Shepherd or the Acts of Perpetua and Felicitas in order to see how entirely the fancy of many Christians and not merely of those who were uncultured dwelt in a fairyland in which they caught sight now of the Ancient of days and now of the Youthful Shepherd Christ. The most fearful delineations of the torments of Hell formed the reverse side to this. We now know through the Apocalypse of Peter, how old these delineations are.] [Footnote 202: The perfect knowledge of the truth and eternal life are connected in the closest way (see p. 144, note 1) because the Father of truth is also Prince of life (see Diognet. 12: [Greek: oude gar zôê aneu gnôseôs oude gnôsis asphalês aneu zôês alêthous dio plêsion ekateron pephyteutai], see also what follows). The classification is a Hellenic one, which has certainly penetrated also into Palestinian Jewish theology. It may be reckoned among the great intuitions, which in the fulness of the times, united the religious and reflective minds of all nations. The Pauline formula, "Where there is forgiveness of sin, there also is life and salvation", had for centuries no distinct history. But the formula, "Where there is truth, perfect knowledge, there also is eternal life", has had the richest history in Christendom from the beginning. Quite apart from John, it is older than the theology of the Apologists (see, for example, the Supper prayer in the Didache, 9. 10, where there is no mention of the forgiveness of sin, but thanks are given, [Greek: huper tês gnôseôs kai pisteôs kai athanasias hês egnôrisen hêmin ho theos dia Iêsou], or [Greek: huper tês zôês kai gnôseôs], and 1 Clem. 36. 2: [Greek: dia touto êthelêsen ho despotes tês athanatou gnôseôs hêmas geusasthai]). It is capable of a very manifold content, and has never made its way in the Church without reservations, but so far as it has we may speak of a hellenising of Christianity. This is shewn most clearly in the fact that the [Greek: athanasia], identical with [Greek: aphtharsia] and [Greek: zôê aiônios], as is proved by their being often interchanged, gradually supplanted the [Greek: basileia tou theou] ([Greek: christou]) and thrust it out of the sphere of religious intuition and hope into that of religious speech. It should also be noted, at the same time, that in the hope of eternal life which is bestowed with the knowledge of the truth, the resurrection of the body is by no means with certainty included. It is rather added to it (see above) from another series of ideas. Conversely, the words [Greek: zôên aiônion] were first added to the words [Greek: sarkos anastasin] in the western Symbols at a comparatively late period, while in the prayers they are certainly very old.] [Footnote 203: Even the assumption of such a remission is fundamentally in contradiction with moralism; but that solitary remission of sin was not called in question, was rather regarded as distinctive of the new religion, and was established by an appeal to the omnipotence and special goodness of God, which appears just in the calling of sinners. In this calling, grace as grace is exhausted (Barn. 5. 9; 2 Clem. 2. 4-7). But this grace itself seems to be annulled, inasmuch as the sins committed before baptism were regarded as having been committed in a state of ignorance (Tertull. de bapt. I.: delicta pristinæ cæcitatis), on account of which it seemed worthy of God to forgive them, that is, to accept the repentance which followed on the ground of the new knowledge. So considered, everything, in point of fact, amounts to the gracious gift of knowledge, and the memory of the saying, "Jesus receiveth sinners", is completely obscured. But the tradition of this saying and many like it, and above all, the religious instinct, where it was more powerfully stirred, did not permit a consistent development of that moralistic conception. See for this, Hermas, Sim. V. 7. 3: [Greek: perì tôn proterôn agnoêmatôn tôi theôi monôi dunaton iasin dounai; autou gar esti pasa exousia]. Præd. Petri ap. Clem. Strom. VI. 6. 48: [Greek: hosa en agnoia tis humôn epoiêsen mê eidôs saphôs ton theon, ean epignous metanoêsêi, panta autôi aphethêsetai ta hamartêmata]. Aristides, Apol. 17: "The Christians offer prayers (for the unconverted Greeks) that they may be converted from their error. But when one of them is converted he is ashamed before the Christians of the works which he has done. And he confesses to God, saying: 'I have done these things in ignorance.' And he cleanses his heart, and his sins are forgiven him, because he had done them in ignorance, in the earlier period when he mocked and jeered at the true knowledge of the Christians." Exactly the same in Tertull. de pudic. so. init. The statement of this same writer (1. c. fin), "Cessatio delicti radix est veniæ, ut venia sit pænitentiæ fructus", is a pregnant expression of the conviction of the earliest Gentile Christians.] [Footnote 204: This idea appears with special prominence in the Epistle of Barnabas (see 6. 11. 14); the new formation ([Greek: anaplassein]) results through the forgiveness of sin. In the moralistic view the forgiveness of sin is the result of the renewal that is spontaneously brought about on the ground of knowledge shewing itself in penitent feeling.] [Footnote 205: Barn. 2. 6, and my notes on the passage.] [Footnote 206: James I. 25.] [Footnote 207: Hermas. Sim. VIII. 3. 2; Justin Dial. II. 43; Præd. Petri in Clem., Strom. I. 29. 182; II. 15. 68.] [Footnote 208: Didache, c. 1., and my notes on the passage (Prolegg. p. 45 f.).] [Footnote 209: The concepts, [Greek: epangelia, gnôsis, nomos], form the Triad on which the later catholic conception of Christianity is based, though it can be proved to have been in existence at an earlier period. That [Greek: pistis] must everywhere take the lead was undoubted, though we must not think of the Pauline idea of [Greek: pistis]. When the Apostolic Fathers reflect upon faith, which, however, happens only incidentally, they mean a holding for true of a sum of holy traditions, and obedience to them, along with the hope that their consoling contents will yet be fully revealed. But Ignatius speaks like a Christian who knows what he possesses in faith in Christ, that is, in confidence in him. In Barn. 1, Polyc. Ep. 2, we find "faith, hope, love"; in Ignatius, "faith and love." Tertullian, in an excellent exposition, has shewn how far patience is a temper corresponding to Christian faith (see besides the Epistle of James).] [Footnote 210: See Lipsius De Clementis R. ep. ad. Cor. priore disquis. 1855. It would be in point of method inadmissible to conclude from the fact that in 1 Clem. Pauline formulæ are relatively most faithfully produced, that Gentile Christianity generally understood Pauline theology at first, but gradually lost this understanding in the course of two generations.] [Footnote 211: Formally: [Greek: têrêsate tên sarka agnên kai tên sphragida aspilon] (2 Clem. 8. 6).] [Footnote 212: Hermas (Mand. IV. 3) and Justin presuppose it. Hermas of course sought and found a way of meeting the results of that idea which were threatening the Church with decimation; but he did not question the idea itself. Because Christendom is a community of saints which has in its midst the sure salvation, all its members--this is the necessary inference--must lead a sinless life.] [Footnote 213: The formula, "righteousness by faith alone", was really repressed in the second century; but it could not be entirely destroyed: see my Essay, "Gesch. d. Seligkeit allein durch den Glauben in der alten K." Ztsch. f. Theol. u Kirche. I. pp. 82-105.] [Footnote 214: The only thorough discussion of the use of the Old Testament by an Apostolic Father, and of its authority, that we possess, is Wrede's "Untersuchungen zum 1 Clemensbrief" (1891). Excellent preliminary investigations, which, however, are not everywhere quite reliable, may be found in Hatch's Essays in Biblical Greek, 1889. Hatch has taken up again the hypothesis of earlier scholars, that there were very probably in the first and second centuries systematised extracts from the Old Testament (see p. 203-214). The hypothesis is not yet quite established (see Wrede, above work, p. 65), but yet it is hardly to be rejected. The Jewish catechetical and missionary instruction in the Diaspora needed such collections, and their existence seem to be proved by the Christian Apologies and the Sybilline books.] [Footnote 215: It is an extremely important fact that the words of the Lord were quoted and applied in their literal sense (that is chiefly for the statement of Christian morality) by Ecclesiastical authors, almost without exception, up to and inclusive of Justin. It was different with the theologians of the age, that is the Gnostics, and the Fathers from Irenæus.] [Footnote 216: Justin was not the first to do so, for it had already been done by the so-called Barnabas (see especially c. 13) and others. On the proofs from prophecy see my Texte und Unters. Bd. I. 3. pp. 56-74. The passage in the Praed. Petri (Clem. Strom. VI. 15. 128) is very complete: [Greek: Hêmis anaptixantes tas biblous tas eichomen tôn prophêtôn, ha men dia parabolôn ha de dia ainigmatôn, ha de authentikôs kai autolexei ton Christon Iêsoun onomazontôn, euromen kai tên parousian autou kai ton thanaton kai ton stauron kai tas loipas kolaseis pasas, hosas epoiêsan autô hoi Ioudaioi, kai tên egersin kai tên eis ouranous analêpsin pro tou Hiersoluma krithênai, kathôs egegrapto tauta panta ha edei auton pathein kai met' auton ha estai; tauta oun epignontes episteusamen tô theô dia tôn gegrammennôn eis auton.] With the help of the Old Testament the teachers dated back the Christian religion to the beginning of the human race, and joined the preparations for the founding of the Christian community with the creation of the world. The Apologists were not the first to do so, for Barnabas and Hermas, and before these, Paul, the author of the Epistle to the Hebrews, and others had already done the same. This was undoubtedly to the cultured classes one of the most impressive articles in the missionary preaching. The Christian religion in this way got a hold which the others--with the exception of the Jewish--lacked. But for that very reason, we must guard against turning it into a formula, that the Gentile Christians had comprehended the Old Testament essentially through the scheme of prediction and fulfilment. The Old Testament is certainly the book of predictions, but for that very reason the complete revelation of God which needs no additions and excludes subsequent changes. The historical fulfilment only proves to the world the truth of those revelations. Even the scheme of shadow and reality is yet entirely out of sight. In such circumstances the question necessarily arises, as to what independent meaning and significance Christ's appearance could have, apart from that confirmation of the Old Testament. But, apart from the Gnostics, a surprisingly long time passed before this question was raised, that is to say, it was not raised till the time of Irenæus.] [Footnote 217: See [Greek: Didachê], 8.] [Footnote 218: See the Revelation of John II. 9; III. 9; but see also the "Jews" in the Gospels of John and of Peter. The latter exonerates Pilate almost completely, and makes the Jews and Herod responsible for the crucifixion.] [Footnote 219: See Barn. 9. 4. In the second epistle of Clement the Jews are called: [Greek: hoi dokiountes echein theon], cf. Præd. Petri in Clem., Strom. VI. 5. 41: [Greek: mêde kata Ioudaious sebesthe, kai gar ekeinoi monoi oiomenoi ton theon gignôskein ouk epistantai, latreuontes angelois kai archangelois, mênì kai selênê, kaì ean mê selênê phanêi, sabbaton ouk agousi to legomenon prôton, oude neomênian agousin, oude azuma, oude heortên, oude megalên hêmera]. (Cf. Diognet. 34.) Even Justin does not judge the Jews more favourably than the Gentiles, but less favourably; see Apol I. 37, 39, 43, 34, 47, 53, 60. On the other hand, Aristides (Apol. c. 14, especially in the Syrian text) is much more friendly disposed to the Jews and recognises them more. The words of Pionius against and about the Jews, in the "Acta Pionii," c. 4, are very instructive.] [Footnote 220: Barn. 4. 6. f.; 14. 1 f. The author of Præd. Petri must have had a similar view of the matter.] [Footnote 221: Justin in the Dialogue with Trypho.] [Footnote 222: Barn. 9 f. It is a thorough misunderstanding of Barnabas' position towards the Old Testament to suppose it possible to pass over his expositions, c. 6-10, as oddities and caprices, and put them aside as indifferent or unmethodical. There is nothing here unmethodical, and therefore nothing arbitrary. Barnabas' strictly spiritual idea of God, and the conviction that all (Jewish) ceremonies are of the devil, compel his explanations. These are so little ingenious conceits to Barnabas that, but for them, he would have been forced to give up the Old Testament altogether. The account, for example, of Abraham having circumcised his slaves would have forced Barnabas to annul the whole authority of the Old Testament if he had not succeeded in giving it a particular interpretation. He does this by combining other passages of Genesis with the narrative, and then finding in it no longer circumcision, but a prediction of the crucified Christ.] [Footnote 223: Barn. 9. 6: [Greek: all' ereis, kai mên peritetmêtai ho laos eis sphragida].] [Footnote 224: See the expositions of Justin in the Dial. (especially, 16, 18, 20, 30, 40-46); Von Engelhardt, "Christenthum Justin's", p. 429, ff. Justin has the three estimates side by side. (1) That the ceremonial law was a pædagogic measure of God with reference to a stiff-necked people, prone to idolatry. (2) That it--like circumcision--was to make the people conspicuous for the execution of judgment, according to the Divine appointment. (3) That in the ceremonial legal worship of the Jews is exhibited the special depravity and wickedness of the nation. But Justin conceived the Decalogue as the natural law of reason, and therefore definitely distinguished it from the ceremonial law.] [Footnote 225: See Ztschr fur K.G. I., p. 330 f.] [Footnote 226: This is the unanimous opinion of all writers of the post-Apostolic age. Christians are the true Israel; and therefore all Israel's predicates of honour belong to them. They are the twelve tribes, and therefore Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, are the Fathers of the Christians. This idea, about which there was no wavering, cannot everywhere be traced back to the Apostle Paul. The Old Testament men of God were in a certain measure Christians. See Ignat. Magn. 8. 2: [Greek: hoi prophêtai kata Christon Iêsoun ezêsan].] [Footnote 227: God was naturally conceived and represented as corporeal by uncultured Christians, though not by these alone, as the later controversies prove (e.g., Orig. contra Melito; see also Tertull. De anima). In the case of the cultured, the idea of a corporeality of God may be traced back to Stoic influences; in the case of the uncultured, popular ideas co-operated with the sayings of the Old Testament literally understood, and the impression of the Apocalyptic images.] [Footnote 228: See Joh. IV. 22, [Greek: hêmeis proskunoumen ho oidamen]. 1 Clem. 59. 3, 4, Herm. Mand. I., Præd Petri in Clem., Strom. VI. 5. 9 [Greek: ginôskete hoti eis theos estin, hos archên pantôn epoiêsen, kai telous exousian echôn]. Aristides Apol. 15 (Syr) "The Christians know and believe in God, the creator of heaven and of earth." Chap. 16 "Christians as men who know God pray to him for things which it becomes him to give and them to receive." Similarly Justin: "From very many old Gentile Christian writings we hear it as a cry of joy 'We know God the Almighty, the night of blindness is past'" (see, e.g., 2 Clem. c. 1). God is [Greek: despotês], a designation which is very frequently used (it is rare in the New Testament). Still more frequently do we find [Greek: kurios]. As the Lord and Creator God is also called the Father (of the world) so 1 Clem. 19. 2 [Greek: ho patêr kai ktistês tou sumpantos kosmou]; 35. 3 [Greek: dêmiourgos kai patêr tôn aiônôn]. This use of the name Father for the supreme God was as is well known familiar to the Greeks, but the Christians alone were in earnest with the name. The creation out of nothing was made decidedly prominent by Hermas, see Vis. I. 1. 6 and my notes on the passage. In the Christian Apocrypha, in spite of the vividness of the idea of God, the angels play the same rôle as in the Jewish, and as in the current Jewish speculations. According to Hermas, e.g., all God's actions are mediated by special angels, nay the Son of God himself is represented by a special angel, viz. Michael, and works by him. But outside the Apocalypses there seems to have been little interest in the good angels.] [Footnote 229: See, for example 1 Clem. 20.] [Footnote 230: This is frequent in the Apologists, see also Diogn. 10. 2; but Hermas, Vis. II. 4. 1 (see also Cels. ap Orig. IV. 23) says [Greek: dia tên ekklêsian ho kosmos katêrtisthê] (cf. I. 1. 6 and my notes on the passage). Aristides (Apol. 16) declares it as his conviction that "the beautiful things, that is, the world are maintained only for the sake of Christians," see besides the words (I. c.), "I have no doubt that the earth continues to exist (only) on account of the prayers of the Christians." Even the Jewish Apocalyptists wavered between the formulæ, that the world was created for the sake of man and for the sake of the Jewish nation. The two are not mutually exclusive. The statement in the Eucharistic prayer of Didache, 9. 3 [Greek: ektisas ta panta heneken tou onomatos sou] is singular.] [Footnote 231: God is named the Father, (1) in relation to the Son (very frequent) (2) as Father of the world (see above) (3) as the merciful one who has proved his goodness, declared his will and called Christians to be his sons (1 Clem. 23. 1, 29. 1, 2 Clem. 1. 4, 8. 4, 10. 1, 14. 1, see the index to Zahn's edition of the Ignatian Epistles, Didache, 1. 5, 9. 2, 3, 10. 2). The latter usage is not very common, it is entirely wanting for example in the Epistle of Barnabas. Moreover God is also called [Greek: patêr tês alêtheias] as the source of all truth (2 Clem. 3. 1, 20. 5 [Greek: theos to alêtheias]). The identity of the Almighty God of creation with the merciful God of redemption is the tacit presupposition of all declarations about God in the case of both the cultured and the uncultured. It is also frequently expressed (see above all the Pastoral Epistles), most frequently by Hermas (Vis. 1. 3. 4) so far as the declaration about the creation of the world is there united in the closest way with that about the creation of the Holy Church. As to the designation of God in the Roman Symbol as the "Father Almighty," that threefold exposition just given, may perhaps allow it.] [Footnote 232: The present dominion of evil demons or of one evil demon, was just as generally presupposed as man's need of redemption, which was regarded as a result of that dominion. The conviction that the world's course (the [Greek: politeia en tô kosmô], the Latins afterwards used the word Sæculum) is determined by the devil, and that the dark one (Barnabas) has dominion, comes out most prominently where eschatological hopes obtain expression. But where salvation is thought of as knowledge and immortality, it is ignorance and frailty from which men are to be delivered. We may here also assume with certainty that these, in the last instance, were traced back by the writers to the action of demons. But it makes a very great difference whether the judgment was ruled by fancy which saw a real devil everywhere active, or whether, in consequence of theoretic reflection, it based the impression of universal ignorance and mortality on the assumption of demons who have produced them. Here again we must note the two series of ideas which intertwine and struggle with each other in the creeds of the earliest period, the traditional religious series resting on a fanciful view of history--it is essentially identical with the Jewish Apocalyptic, see, for example Barn 4--and the empiric moralistic, (see 2 Clem. 1. 2-7, as a specially valuable discussion, or Praed. Petri in Clem, Strom. VI. 5, 39, 40), which abides by the fact that men have fallen into ignorance, weakness and death (2 Clem. 1. 6 [Greek: ho bios hêmôn holos allo ouden ên ei mê thanatos]). But perhaps, in no other point, with the exception of the [Greek: anastasis sarkos] has the religious conception remained so tenacious as in this and it decidedly prevailed, especially in the epoch with which we are now dealing. Its tenacity may be explained, among other things, by the living impression of the polytheism that surrounded the communities on every side. Even where the national gods were looked upon as dead idols--and that was perhaps the rule, see Praed. Petri. I. c, 2 Clem. 3. 1, Didache, 6--one could not help assuming that there were mighty demons operative behind them, as otherwise the frightful power of idolatry could not be explained. But on the other hand, even a calm reflection and a temper unfriendly to all religious excess must have welcomed the assumption of demons who sought to rule the world and man. For by means of this assumption which was wide-spread even among the Greeks, humanity seemed to be unburdened, and the presupposed capacity for redemption could therefore be justified in its widest range. From the assumption that the need of redemption was altogether due to ignorance and mortality there was but one step, or little more than one step, to the assumption that the need of redemption was grounded in a condition of man for which he was not responsible, that is, in the flesh. But this step which would have led either to dualism (heretical Gnosis) or to the abolition of the distinction between natural and moral, was not taken within the main body of the Church. The eschatological series of ideas with its thesis that death evil and sin entered into humanity at a definite historical moment when the demons took possession of the world drew a limit which was indeed overstepped at particular points but was in the end respected. We have therefore the remarkable fact that, on the one hand, early Christian (Jewish) eschatology called forth and maintained a disposition in which the Kingdom of God, and that of the world, (Kingdom of the devil) were felt to be absolutely opposed (practical dualism), while, on the other hand, it rejected theoretic dualism. Redemption through Christ, however, was conceived in the eschatological Apocalyptic series of ideas as essentially something entirely in the future, for the power of the devil was not broken, but rather increased (or it was virtually broken in believers and increased in unbelievers), by the first advent of Christ, and therefore the period between the first and second advent of Christ belongs to [Greek: houtos ho aiôn] (see Barn. 2. 4; Herm. Sim 1; 2 Clem. 6. 3: [Greek: estin de houtos ho aiôn kai ho mellôn duo echthroi; houtos legei moicheian kai phthoran kai philargourian kai apatên, ekeinos de toutois apostassetai], Ignat. Magn. 5. 2). For that very reason, the second coming of Christ must, as a matter of course, be at hand, for only through it could the first advent get its full value. The painful impression that nothing had been outwardly changed by Christ's first advent (the heathen, moreover, pointed this out in mockery to the suffering Christians), must be destroyed by the hope of his speedy coming again. But the first advent had its independent significance in the series of ideas which regarded Christ as redeeming man from ignorance and mortality; for the knowledge was already given, and the gift of immortality could only of course be dispensed after this life was ended, but then immediately. The hope of Christ's return was therefore a superfluity, but was not felt or set aside as such, because there was still a lively expectation of Christ's earthly Kingdom.] [Footnote 233: No other name adhered to Christ so firmly as that of [Greek: kurios]; see a specially clear evidence of this, Novatian de trinit. 30, who argues against the Adoptian and Modalistic heretics thus: "Et in primis illud retorquendum in istos, qui duorum nobis deorum controversiam facere præsumunt. Scriptum est, quod negare non possunt: 'Quoniam unus est dominus.' De Christo ergo quid sentiunt? Dominum esse, aut illum omnino non esse? Sed dominum illum omnino non dubitant. Ergo si vera est illorum ratiocinatio, jam duo sunt domini." On [Greek: kurios--despotês], see above, p. 119, note.] [Footnote 234: Specially instructive examples of this are found in the Epistle of Barnabas and the second Epistle of Clement. Clement (Ep. 1) speaks only of faith in God.] [Footnote 235: See 1 Clem. 59-61. [Greek: Didachê], c. 9. 10. Yet Novatian (de trinit. 14) exactly reproduces the old idea, "Si homo tantummodo Christus, cur homo in orationibus mediator invocatur, cum invocatio hominis ad præstandam salutem inefficax judicetur." As the Mediator, High Priest, etc., Christ is of course always and everywhere invoked by the Christians, but such invocations are one thing and formal prayer another. The idea of the congruence of God's will of salvation with the revelation of salvation which took place through Christ, was further continued in the idea of the congruence of this revelation of salvation with the universal preaching of the twelve chosen Apostles (see above, p. 162 ff.), the root of the Catholic principle of tradition. But the Apostles never became "[Greek: hoi kurioi]" though the concepts [Greek: didachê (logos) kuriou, didachê (kêrugma) tôn apostolôn] were just as interchangeable as [Greek: logos theou] and [Greek: logos christou]. The full formula would be [Greek: logos theou dia Iêsou Christou dia tôn apostolôn]. But as the subjects introduced by [Greek: dia] are chosen and perfect media, religious usage permitted the abbreviation.] [Footnote 236: In the epistle of Barnabas "Jesus Christ" and "Christ" appear each once, but "Jesus" twelve times: in the Didache "Jesus Christ" once, "Jesus" three times. Only in the second half of the second century, if I am not mistaken, did the designation "Jesus Christ", or "Christ", become the current one, more and more crowding out the simple "Jesus." Yet the latter designation--and this is not surprising--appears to have continued longest in the regular prayers. It is worthy of note that in the Shepherd there is no mention either of the name Jesus or of Christ. The Gospel of Peter also says [Greek: ho kurios] where the other Gospels use these names.] [Footnote 237: See 1 Clem. 64: [Greek: ho theos, ho eklexamenos ton kurion Iêsoun Christon kai hêmas di' autou eis laon periousion dôê, k.t.l.] (It is instructive to note that wherever the idea of election is expressed, the community is immediately thought of, for in point of fact the election of the Messiah has no other aim than to elect or call the community; Barn. 3. 6: [Greek: ho laos hon hêtoimasen en tô êgapêmenôi autou]). Herm. Sim. V. 2: [Greek: eklexamenos doulon tina piston kai euareston] V. 6. 5. Justin, Dial. 48: [Greek: mê arneisthai hoti houtos estin ho Christos, ean phainêtai hôs anthrôpos ex anthrôpon gennêtheis kai eklogê genomenos eis to Christon einai apodeiknuêtai].] [Footnote 238: See Barn. 14. 5: [Greek: Iêsous eis touto hêtoimasthê, hina ... hêmas lutrôsamenos ek tou skotous diathêtai en hêmin diathêkên logôi]. The same word concerning the Church, I. c. 3. 6. and 5. 7: [Greek: autos eautô ton laon ton kainon etoimazôn] 14 6.] [Footnote 239: "Angel" is a very old designation for Christ (see Justin's Dial.) which maintained itself up to the Nicean controversy, and is expressly claimed for him in Novatian's treatise "de trinit." 11. 25 ff. (the word was taken from Old Testament passages which were applied to Christ). As a rule, however, it is not to be understood as a designation of the nature, but of the office of Christ as such, though the matter was never very clear. There were Christians who used it as a designation of the nature, and from the earliest times we find this idea contradicted (see the Apoc. Sophoniæ, ed. Stern, 1886, IV. fragment, p 10: "He appointed no Angel to come to us, nor Archangel, nor any power, but he transformed himself into a man that he might come to us for our deliverance." Cf. the remarkable parallel, ep. ad. Diagn. 7. 2: ... [Greek: ou, kathaper an tis eikaseien anthrôpos, hypêretên tina pempsas ê angelon ê archonta ê tina tôn diepontôn ta epigeia hê tina tôn pepisteumenôn tas en ouranois dioikêseis, all' auton ton technitên kai dêmiourgon tôn holôn. k.t.l.]). Yet it never got the length of a great controversy and as the Logos doctrine gradually made way, the designation "Angel" became harmless and then vanished.] [Footnote 240: [Greek: Pais] (after Isaiah): this designation, frequently united with [Greek: Iêsous] and with the adjectives [Greek: hagios] and [Greek: êgapêmenos] (see Barn. 3, 6; 4, 3; 4, 8; Valent. ap. Clem. Alex., Strom. VI. 6. 52, and the Ascensio Isaiae), seems to have been at the beginning a usual one. It sprang undoubtedly from the Messianic circle of ideas, and at its basis lies the idea of election. It is very interesting to observe how it was gradually put into the background and finally abolished. It was kept longest in the liturgical prayers: see 1 Clem. 59. 2; Barn. 61. 9. 2; Acts iii. 13, 26; iv. 27, 30; Didache, 9. 2. 3; Mart. Polyc. 14. 20; Act. Pauli et Theclæ, 17, 24; Sibyl. I. v. 324, 331, 364; Diogn. 8, 9, 10: [Greek: ho hagapêtos pais] 9; also Ep. Orig. ad Afric. init; Clem. Strom. VII. 1. 4: [Greek: ho monogenês pais], and my note on Barn 6. 1. In the Didache (9. 2) Jesus as well as David is in one statement called "Servant of God." Barnabas, who calls Christ the "Beloved", uses the same expression for the Church (4. 1. 9); see also Ignat ad Smyrn. inscr.] [Footnote 241: See the old Roman Symbol and Acts X. 42; 2 Tim. IV. 1; Barn. 7. 2; Polyc. Ep. 2. 1; 2 Clem. 2. 1; Hegesipp. in Euseb. H. E. III. 20, 6: Justin Dial. 118] [Footnote 242: There could of course be no doubt that Christ meant the "anointed" (even Aristides Apol. 2 fin., if Nestle's correction is right, Justin's Apol. 1. 4 and similar passages do not justify doubt on that point). But the meaning and the effect of this anointing was very obscure. Justin says (Apol. II. 6) [Greek: Christos men kata to kechristhai kai kosmêsai ta panta di autou ton theon legetai] and therefore (see Dial. 76 fin.) finds in this designation an expression of the cosmic significance of Christ.] [Footnote 243: See the Apologists: Apost. K.O. (Texte. v. Unters. II. 5, p. 25) [Greek: proorôntas tous logous tou didaskalou hêmôn], ibid, p. 28 [Greek: ote êtêsen ho didaskalos ton arton], ibid. p. 30 [Greek: proelegen ote edidasken], Apost. Constit. (original writing) III. 6 [Greek: autos ho didaskalos hêmôn kai kurios], III. 7 [Greek: ho kurios kai didaskalos hêmôn eipen], III. 19, III. 20, V. 12, 1 Clem. 13. 1 [Greek: tôn logôn tou kuriou Iêsou hous elalêsen didaskôn], Polyc. Ep. 2 [Greek: mnêmoneuontes hôn eipen ho kurios didaskôn], Ptolem. ad Floram 5 [Greek: hê didaskalia tou sôtêros].] [Footnote 244: The baptismal formula which had been naturalised everywhere in the communities at this period preserved it above all. The addition of [Greek: idios prôtotokos] is worthy of notice. [Greek: Monogenês] (= the only begotten and also the beloved) is not common, it is found only in John, in Justin, in the Symbol of the Romish Church and in Mart. Polyc. (Diogn. 10. 3).] [Footnote 245: The so-called second Epistle of Clement begins with the words [Greek: Adelphoi outôs dei hêmas phronein peri Iêsou hôs peri theou, hôs peri kritou zôntôn kai nekrôn] (this order in which the Judge appears as the higher is also found in Barn. 7. 2), [Greek: kai ou dei hêmas mikra phronein peri tês sôtêrias hêmôn; en tô gar phronein hêmas mikra peri autou mikra kai elpizomen labein]. This argumentation (see also the following verses up to II. 7) is very instructive, for it shews the grounds on which the [Greek: phronein peri autou ôs peri theou] was based H. Schultz (L. v. d. Gottheit Christi, p. 25 f.) very correctly remarks. In the second Epistle of Clement and in the Shepherd the Christological interest of the writer ends in obtaining the assurance, through faith in Christ as the world ruling King and Judge that the community of Christ will receive a glory corresponding to its moral and ascetic works.] [Footnote 246: Pliny in his celebrated letter (96) speaks of a "Carmen dicere Christo quasi deo" on the part of the Christians. Hermas has no doubt that the Chosen Servant, after finishing his work, will be adopted as God's Son, and therefore has been destined from the beginning, [Greek: eis exousian megalên kai kuriotêta], Sim. V. 6. 1. But that simply means that he is now in a Divine sphere and that one must think of him as of God. But there was no unanimity beyond that. The formula says nothing about the nature or constitution of Jesus. It might indeed appear from Justin's dialogue that the direct designation of Jesus as [Greek: theos] (not as [Greek: o theos]) was common in the communities, but not only are there some passages in Justin himself to be urged against this but also the testimony of other writers. [Greek: Theos], even without the article, was in no case a usual designation for Jesus. On the contrary, it was always quite definite occasions which led them to speak of Christ as of a God or as God. In the first place there were Old Testament passages such as Ps. XLV. 8, CX. 1 f. etc. which as soon as they were interpreted in relation to Christ led to his getting the predicate [Greek: theos]. These passages, with many others taken from the Old Testament, were used in this way by Justin. Yet it is very well worth noting that the author of the Epistle of Barnabas avoided this expression in a passage which must have suggested it (12, 10, 11 on Ps. CX. 4) The author of the Didache calls him "[Greek: o theos Dabid]" on the basis of the above psalm. It is manifestly therefore in liturgical formulæ of exalted paradox or living utterances of religious feeling that Christ is called God. See Ignat. ad Rom. 6. 3, [Greek: epitrepsate moi mimêtên einai tou pathous tou theou mou] (the [Greek: mou] here should be observed), ad Eph. 1. 1 [Greek: anazôpurêsantes en aimati theou], Tatian Orat. 13 [Greek: diakonos tou peponthotos theou]. As to the celebrated passage 1 Clem. ad Cor. 2. 10 [Greek: ta pathêmata autou] (the [Greek: autou] refers to [Greek: theos]) we may perhaps observe that that [Greek: o theos] stands far apart. However, such a consideration is hardly in place. The passages just adduced shew that precisely the union of suffering (blood, death) with the concept "God"--and only this union--must have been in Christendom from a very early period, see Acts XX. 28 [Greek: tên ekklæsian tou theou hên periepoiêsato dia tou haimatos tou idiou], and from a later period Melito, Fragm (in Routh Rel Sacra I. 122), [Greek: ho theos peponthen hupo dexias Israêlitidos], Anonym ap Euseb H. E. V. 28 11, [Greek: ho eusplanchnos theos kai kurios hêmôn Iêsous Christos ouk ebouleto apolesthai martura tôn idiôn pathêmatôn], Test XII. Patriarch. (Levi. 4) [Greek: epi tô pathei tou hupsistou]; Tertull. de carne 5, "passiones dei," ad Uxor. II. 3: "sanguine dei." Tertullian also speaks frequently of the crucifying of God, the flesh of God, the death of God. (see Lightfoot, Clem. of Rome, p. 400, sq.). These formulæ were first subjected to examination in the Patripassian controversy. They were rejected by Athanasius for example in the fourth century (cf. Apollin. II. 13, 14, Opp. I. p. 758) [Greek: pôs oun gegraphate hoti theos ho dia sarkos pathôn kai anastas, ... oudamou de haima theou dicha sarkos paradedôkasin hai graphai ê theon dia sarkos pathonta kai anastanta]. They continued in use in the west and became of the utmost significance in the christological controversies of the fifth century. It is not quite certain whether there is a theologia Christi in such passages as Tit. II. 13, 2 Pet. I. 1 (see the controversies on Rom. IX. 5). Finally [Greek: theos] and Christus were often interchanged in religious discourse (see above). In the so called second Epistle of Clement (c. 1. 4) the dispensing of right knowledge is traced back to Christ. It is said of him that like a Father, he has called us children, he has delivered us, he has called us into existence out of non-existence and in this God himself is not thought of. Indeed he is called (2. 2. 3) the hearer of prayer and the controller of history, but immediately thereon a saying of the Lord is introduced as a saying of God (Matt. IX. 13). On the contrary Isaiah XXIX. 13 is quoted (3. 5) as a declaration of Jesus, and again (13. 4) a saying of the Lord with the formula [Greek: legei o theos]. It is Christ who pitied us (3. 1, 16. 2), he is described simply as the Lord who hath called and redeemed us (5. 1, 8. 2, 9. 5 etc). Not only is there frequent mention of the [Greek: entolai] ([Greek: entalmata]) of Christ, but 6. 7 (see 14. 1) speak directly of a [Greek: poiein to thelêma tou Christou]. Above all, in the entire first division (up to 9. 5) the religious situation is for the most part treated as if it were something essentially between the believer and Christ. On the other hand, (10. 1), the Father is he who calls (see also 16. 1), who brings salvation (9. 7), who accepts us as Sons (9. 10; 16. 1); he has given us promises (11. 1, 6. 7.); we expect his kingdom, nay, the day of his appearing (12. 1 f.; 6. 9; 9. 6; 11. 7; 12. 1). He will judge the world, etc.; while in 17. 4. we read of the day of Christ's appearing, of his kingdom and of his function of Judge, etc. Where the preacher treats of the relation of the community to God, where he describes the religious situation according to its establishment or its consummation, where he desires to rule the religious and moral conduct, he introduces, without any apparent distinction, now God himself, and now Christ. But this religious view, in which acts of God coincide with acts of Christ, did not, as will be shewn later on, influence the theological speculations of the preacher. We have also to observe that the interchanging of God and Christ is not always an expression of the high dignity of Christ, but, on the contrary, frequently proves that the personal significance of Christ is misunderstood, and that he is regarded only as the dependent revealer of God. All this shews that there cannot have been many passages in the earliest literature where Christ was roundly designated [Greek: theos]. It is one thing to speak of the blood (death, suffering) of God, and to describe the gifts of salvation brought by Christ as gifts of God, and another thing to set up the proposition that Christ is a God (or God). When, from the end of the second century, one began to look about in the earlier writings for passages [Greek: en hois theologeitai ho christos], because the matter had become a subject of controversy, one could, besides the Old Testament, point only to the writings of authors from the time of Justin (to apologists and controversialists) as well as to Psalms and odes (see the Anonym. in Euseb. H. E. V. 28. 4-6). In the following passages of the Ignatian Epistles "[Greek: theos]" appears as a designation of Christ; he is called [Greek: ho theos hæmôn] in Ephes. inscript.; Rom. inscr. bis 3. 2; Polyc. 8. 3; Eph. 1. 1, [Greek: haima theou]; Rom. 6. 3, [Greek: to pathos tou theou mou]; Eph. 7. 2, [Greek: en sarki genomenos theos], in another reading, [Greek: en anthrôpô theos], Smyrn. I. 1, I. Chr. [Greek: ho theos ho outôs humas sophisas]. The latter passage, in which the relative clause must he closely united with "[Greek: ho theos]", seems to form the transition to the three passages (Trall. 7. 1; Smyrn. 6. 1; 10. 1), in which Jesus is called [Greek: theos] without addition. But these passages are critically suspicious, see Lightfoot _in loco_. In the same way the "deus Jesus Christus" in Polyc. Ep. 12. 2, is suspicious, and indeed in both parts of the verse. In the first, all Latin codd. have "dei filius," and in the Greek codd. of the Epistle, Christ is nowhere called [Greek: theos]. We have a keen polemic against the designation of Christ as [Greek: theos] in Clem. Rom. Homil. XVI. 15 sq.; [Greek: Ho Petros apekrithæ ho kurios hæmôn oute theous einai ephthenxato para ton ktisanta ta panta oute heauton theon einai anægoreusen, huion de theou tou ta panta diakosmæsantos ton eiponta auton eulogôs emakarisen, kai o Simôn apekrinato; ou dokei soi oun ton apo theou theon einai, kai ho Petros ephæ: pôs touto einai dunatai, phrason hæmin, touto gar hæmeis eipein soi ou dunametha, hoti mæ hækousamen par' autou.]] [Footnote 247: On the further use of the word [Greek: theos] in antiquity, see above, § 8, p. 120 f.; the formula "[Greek: theos ek theou]" for Augustus, even 24 years before Christ's birth; on the formula "dominus ac deus", see John XX. 28; the interchange of these concepts in many passages beside one another in the anonymous writer (Euseb. H. E. V. 28. 11). Domitian first allowed himself to be called "dominus ac deus." Tertullian, Apol. 10. 11, is very instructive as to the general situation in the second century. Here are brought forward the different causes which then moved men, the cultured and the uncultured, to give to this or that personality the predicate of Divinity. In the third century the designation of "dominus ac deus noster" for Christ, was very common, especially in the west (see Cyprian, Pseudo-Cyprian, Novatian; in the Latin Martyrology a Greek [Greek: ho kurios] is also frequently so translated). But only at this time had the designation come to be in actual use even for the Emperor. It seems at first sight to follow from the statements of Celsus (in Orig. c. Cels. III. 22-43) that this Greek had and required a very strict conception of the Godhead; but his whole work shews how little that was really the case. The reference to these facts of the history of the time is not made with the view of discovering the "theologia Christi" itself in its ultimate roots--these roots lie elsewhere, in the person of Christ and Christian experience; but that this experience, before any technical reflection, had so easily and so surely substituted the new formula instead of the idea of Messiah, can hardly be explained without reference to the general religious ideas of the time.] [Footnote 248: The combination of [Greek: theos] and [Greek: sôtêr] in the Pastoral Epistles is very important. The two passages in the New Testament in which perhaps a direct "theologia Christi" may be recognised, contain likewise the concept [Greek: sôtêr]; see Tit. II. 13; [Greek: prosdechomenoi tên makarian elpida kai epiphaneian tês doxês tou megalou theou kai sôtêros hêmôn Christou Iêsou] (cf. Abbot, Journal of the Society of Bibl. Lit., and Exeg. 1881. June. p. 3 sq.): 2 Pet. I. 1: [Greek: en dikaiosunêi tou theou hêmôn kai sôtêros 'I. Chr.]. In both cases the [Greek: hêmôn] should be specially noted. Besides, [Greek: theos sôtêr] is also an ancient formula.] [Footnote 249: A very ancient formula ran "[Greek: theos kai theos huios]" see Cels. ap. Orig II. 30; Justin, frequently: Alterc. Sim. et Theoph. 4, etc. The formula is equivalent to [Greek: theos monogenês] (see Joh. I. 18).] [Footnote 250: Such conceptions are found side by side in the same writer. See, for example, the second Epistle of Clement, and even the first.] [Footnote 251: See § 6, p. 120. The idea of a [Greek: theopoiêsis] was as common as that of the appearances of the gods. In wide circles, however, philosophy had long ago naturalised the idea of the [Greek: logos tou theou]. But now there is no mistaking a new element everywhere. In the case of the Christologies which include a kind of [Greek: theopoiêsis], it is found in the fact that the deified Jesus was to be recognised not as a Demigod or Hero, but as Lord of the world, equal in power and honour to the Deity. In the case of those Christologies which start with Christ as the heavenly spiritual being, it is found in the belief in an actual incarnation. These two articles, as was to be expected, presented difficulties to the Gentile Christians, and the latter more than the former.] [Footnote 252: This is usually overlooked. Christological doctrinal conceptions are frequently constructed by a combination of particular passages, the nature of which does not permit of combination. But the fact that there was no universally recognised theory about the nature of Jesus till beyond the middle of the second century, should not lead us to suppose that the different theories were anywhere declared to be of equal value, etc., therefore more or less equally valid; on the contrary, everyone, so far as he had a theory at all, included his own in the revealed truth. That they had not yet come into conflict is accounted for, on the one hand, by the fact that the different theories ran up into like formulæ, and could even frequently be directly carried over into one another, and on the other hand, by the fact that their representatives appealed to the same authorities. But we must, above all, remember that conflict could only arise after the enthusiastic element, which also had a share in the formation of Christology, had been suppressed, and problems were felt to be such, that is, after the struggle with Gnosticism, or even during that struggle.] [Footnote 253: Both were clearly in existence in the Apostolic age.] [Footnote 254: Only one work has been preserved entire which gives clear expression to the Adoptian Christology, viz., the Shepherd of Hermas (see Sim. V. and IX. 1. 12). According to it, the Holy Spirit--it is not certain whether he is identified with the chief Archangel--is regarded as the pre-existent Son of God, who is older than creation, nay, was God's counsellor at creation. The Redeemer is the virtuous man [Greek: sarx] chosen by God, with whom that Spirit of God was united. As he did not defile the Spirit, but kept him constantly as his companion, and carried out the work to which the Deity had called him, nay, did more than he was commanded, he was in virtue of a Divine decree adopted as a son and exalted to [Greek: megalê exousia kai kuriotês]. That this Christology is set forth in a book which enjoyed the highest honour and sprang from the Romish community, is of great significance. The representatives of this Christology, who in the third century were declared to be heretics, expressly maintained that it was at one time the ruling Christology at Rome and had been handed down by the Apostles. (Anonym, in Euseb. H. E. V. 28. 3, concerning the Artemonites: [Greek: phasi tous men proterous hapantas kai autous tous apostolous pareilêphenai te kaì dedidachenai tauta, ha nun houtoi legousi, kai tetêrêsthai tên alêtheian tou kêrygmatos mechri tôn chronôn tou Biktoros ... apo tou diadochon auto Zephurinou parakecharachthai tên alêtheian]). This assertion, though exaggerated, is not incredible after what we find in Hermas. It cannot, certainly, be verified by a superficial examination of the literary monuments preserved to us, but a closer investigation shews that the Adoptian Christology must at one time have been very widespread, that it continued here and there undisturbed up to the middle of the third century (see the Christology in the Acta Archelai. 49, 50), and that it continued to exercise great influence even in the fourth and fifth centuries (see Book II. c. 7). Something similar is found even in some Gnostics, e.g., Valentinus himself (see Iren. I. 11. 1: [Greek: kai ton Christon de ouk apo tôn en tôi plêrômati aiônôn probeblêsthai, alla hupo tês mêtros, éxô de genomenês, kata tên gnômên tôn kreittonôn apokekuêsthai meta skias tinos. Kai touton men, hate arrena huparchontaf, apokopsanta huph' heautou tên skian, anadramein eis to plêroma]. The same in the Exc. ex Theodot §§ 22, 23, 32, 33), and the Christology of Basilides presupposes that of the Adoptians. Here also belongs the conception which traces back the genealogy of Jesus to Joseph. The way in which Justin (Dialog. 48, 49, 87 ff.) treats the history of the baptism of Jesus, against the objection of Trypho that a pre-existent Christ would not have needed to be filled with the Spirit of God, is instructive. It is here evident that Justin deals with objections which were raised within the communities themselves to the pre-existence of Christ, on the ground of the account of the baptism. In point of fact, this account (it had, according to very old witnesses, see Resch, Agrapha Christi, p. 307, according to Justin, for example, Dial. 88. 103, the wording: [Greek: hama tôi anabênai auton apo tou potamou tou Iordanou, tês phônês autou lechtheisês huios mou ei ss, egô sêmeron gegennêka se]; see the Cod. D. of Luke. Clem. Alex, etc.) forms the strongest foundation of the Adoptian Christology, and hence it is exceedingly interesting to see how one compounds with it from the second to the fifth century, an investigation which deserves a special monograph. But, of course, the edge was taken off the report by the assumption of the miraculous birth of Jesus from the Holy Spirit, so that the Adoptians in recognising this, already stood with one foot in the camp of their opponents. It is now instructive to see here how the history of the baptism, which originally formed the beginning of the proclamation of Jesus' history, is suppressed in the earliest formulæ, and therefore also in the Romish Symbol, while the birth from the Holy Spirit is expressly stated. Only in Ignatius (ad Smyrn. I; cf. ad Eph. 18. 2) is the baptism taken into account in the confession; but even he has given the event a turn by which it has no longer any significance for Jesus himself (just as in the case of Justin, who concludes from the _resting_ of the Spirit in his fulness upon Jesus, that there will be no more prophets among the Jews, spiritual gifts being rather communicated to Christians; compare also the way in which the baptism of Jesus is treated in Joh. I.). Finally, we must point out that in the Adoptian Christology, the parallel between Jesus and all believers who have the Spirit and are Sons of God, stands out very clearly (Cf. Herm. Sim. V. with Mand. III. V. 1; X. 2; most important is Sim. V. 6. 7). But this was the very thing that endangered the whole view. Celsus, I. 57, addressing Jesus, asks; "If thou sayest that every man whom Divine Providence allows to be born (this is of course a formulation for which Celsus alone is responsible), is a son of God, what advantage hast thou then over others?" We can see already in the Dialogue of Justin, the approach of the later great controversy, whether Christ is Son of God [Greek: kata gnômên], or [Greek: kata phusin], that is, had a pre-existence: "[Greek: kai gar eisi tines], he says, [Greek: apo tou humeterou genous homologountes auton Christon einai, anthrôpon de ex anthrôpôn genomenon apophainomenoi, hois ou suntithemai]" (c. 48).] [Footnote 255: This Christology which may be traced back to the Pauline, but which can hardly have its point of departure in Paul alone, is found also in the Epistle to the Hebrews and in the writings of John, including the Apocalypse, and is represented by Barnabas, 1 and 2 Clem., Ignatius, Polycarp, the author of the Pastoral Epistles, the Authors of Praed. Petri, and the Altercatio Jasonis et Papisci, etc. The Classic formulation is in 2 Clem. 9. 5: [Greek: Christos ho kurios ho sôsas hêmas ôn men to prôton pneuma egeneto sarx kai houtôs hêmas ekalesen]. According to Barnabas (5. 3), the pre-existent Christ is [Greek: pantos tou kosmou kurios]: to him God said, [Greek: apo katabolês kosmou], "Let us make man, etc." He is (5. 6) the subject and goal of all Old Testament revelation. He is [Greek: ouxi huios anthrôpou all: huios tou theou, tupôi de en sarki phanerôtheís] (12. 10); the flesh is merely the veil of the Godhead, without which man could not have endured the light (5. 10). According to 1 Clement, Christ is [Greek: to skêptron tês melagosunês tou theou] (16. 2), who if he had wished could have appeared on earth [Greek: en kompôi alazoneias], he is exalted far above the angels (32), as he is the Son of God ([Greek: pathêmata tou theou], 2. 1); he hath spoken through the Holy Spirit in the Old Testament (22. 1). It is not certain whether Clement understood Christ under the [Greek: logos megalosunês tou theou] (27. 4). According to 2 Clem., Christ and the church are heavenly spiritual existences which have appeared in the last times. Gen. I. 27 refers to their creation (c. 14; see my note on the passage: We learn from Origen that a very old Theologoumenon identified Jesus with the ideal of Adam, the church with that of Eve). Similar ideas about Christ are found in Gnostic Jewish Christians); one must think about Christ as about God (I. 1). Ignatius writes (Eph. 7-2): [Greek: Eis, iatros estin sarkikos te kai pneumatikos, gennêtos kai agennêtos, en sarki genomenos theos, en thanatôi zôê alêthinê, kai ek Marias kai ek theou, prôton pathaetos kai tote apathês Iêsous Christos ho kurios hêmôn]. As the human predicates stand here first, it might appear as though, according to Ignatius, the man Jesus first became God ([Greek: ho theos hêmôn], Cf. Eph. inscr.: 18. 2). In point of fact, he regards Jesus as Son of God only by his birth from the Spirit; but on the other hand, Jesus is [Greek: aph' henos patros proelthôn] (Magn. 7. 2), is [Greek: lógos theoû] (Magn. 8. 2,) and when Ignatius so often emphasises the truth of Jesus' history against Docetism (Trall. 9. for example), we must assume that he shares the thesis with the Gnostics that Jesus is by nature a spiritual being. But it is well worthy of notice that Ignatius, as distinguished from Barnabas and Clement, really gives the central place to the historical Jesus Christ, the Son of God and the Son of Mary, and his work. The like is found only in Irenæus. The pre-existence of Christ is presupposed by Polycarp. (Ep 7. 1); but, like Paul, he strongly emphasises a real exaltation of Christ (2. 1). The author of Præd. Petri calls Christ the [Greek: logos] (Clem. Strom. I. 29, 182). As Ignatius calls him this also, as the same designation is found in the Gospel, Epistles, and Apocalypse of John (the latter a Christian adaptation of a Jewish writing), in the Act. Joh. (see Zahn, Acta Joh. p. 220), finally, as Celsus (II. 31) says quite generally, "The Christians maintain that the Son of God is at the same time his incarnate Word", we plainly perceive that this designation for Christ was not first started by professional philosophers (see the Apologists, for example, Tatian, Orat. 5, and Melito Apolog. fragm. in the Chron. pasch. p. 483, ed. Dindorf: [Greek: Christos ôn theou logos pro aiônôn]. We do not find in the Johannine writings such a Logos speculation as in the Apologists, but the current expression is taken up in order to shew that it has its truth in the appearing of Jesus Christ. The ideas about the existence of a Divine Logos were very widely spread; they were driven out of philosophy into wide circles. The author of the Alterc. Jas. et Papisci conceived the phrase in Gen I. 1, [Greek: en archê], as equivalent to [Greek: en huiôi (Christôi)] Jerome. Quæst. hebr. in Gen. p. 3; see Tatian Orat. 5: [Greek: theos ên en archêi tên de archên logou dunamin pareilêphamen]. Ignatius (Eph. 3) also called Christ [Greek: hê gnómê tou patros] (Eph. 17: [Greek: hê gnôsis tou theou]); that is a more fitting expression than [Greek: logos]. The subordination of Christ as a heavenly being to the Godhead, is seldom or never carefully emphasised, though it frequently comes plainly into prominence. Yet the author of the second Epistle of Clement does not hesitate to place the pre-existent Christ and the pre-existent church on one level, and to declare of both that God created them (c. 14). The formulæ [Greek: phanerousthai en sarki], or, [Greek: gignesthai sarx], are characteristic of this Christology. It is worthy of special notice that the latter is found in all those New Testament writers, who have put Christianity in contrast with the Old Testament religions, and proclaimed the conquest of that religion by the Christian, viz., Paul, John, and the author of the Epistle to the Hebrews.] [Footnote 256: Hermas, for example, does this (therefore Link; Christologie des Hermas, and Weizsäcker, Gott Gel. Anz. 1886, p. 830, declare his Christology to be directly pneumatic): Christ is then identified with this Holy Spirit (see Acta. Archel. 50), similarly Ignatius (ad. Magn. 15): [Greek: kektêmenoi adiakriton pneuma, hos estin Iêsous Christos.] This formed the transition to Gnostic conceptions on the one hand, to pneumatic Christology on the other. But in Hermas the real substantial thing in Jesus Christ is the [Greek: sarx].] [Footnote 257: Passages may indeed be found in the earliest Gentile Christian literature, in which Jesus is designated Son of God, independently of his human birth and before it (so in Barnabas, against Zahn), but they are not numerous. Ignatius very clearly deduces the predicate "Son" from the birth in the flesh. Zahn, Marcellus, p. 216 ff.] [Footnote 258: The distinct designation "[Greek: theopoiêsis]" is not found, though that may be an accident. Hermas has the thing itself quite distinctly (See Epiph. c. Alog. H. 51. 18: [Greek: nomizontes apo Marias kai deuro Christon auton kaleisthai kai huion theou, kai einai men proteron psilon anthrôpon, kata prokopên de eilêphenai tên tou huiou tou theou prosêgorian]). The stages of the [Greek: prokopê] were undoubtedly the birth, baptism and resurrection. Even the adherents of the pneumatic Christology, could not at first help recognising that Jesus, through his exaltation, got more than he originally possessed. Yet in their case, this conception was bound to become rudimentary, and it really did so.] [Footnote 259: The settlement with Gnosticism prepared a still always uncertain end for this naive Docetism. Apart from Barn. 5. 12, where it plainly appears, we have to collect laboriously the evidences of it which have not accidentally either perished or been concealed. In the communities of the second century there was frequently no offence taken at Gnostic docetism (see the Gospel of Peter. Clem. Alex., Adumbrat in Joh. Ep. I. c. 1, [Zahn, Forsch. z. Gesch. des N. T.-lichen Kanons, III. p. 871]; "Fertur ergo in traditionibus, quoniam Johannes ipsum corpus, quod erat extrinsecus, tangens manum suam in profunda misisse et duritiam carnis nullo modo reluctatam esse, sed locum manui præbuisse discipuli." Also Acta Joh. p. 219, ed. Zahn). In spite of all his polemic against "[Greek: dokêsis]" proper, one can still perceive a "moderate docetism" in Clem. Alex., to which indeed certain narratives in the Canonical Gospels could not but lead. The so-called Apocryphal literature (Apocryphal Gospels and Acts of Apostles), lying on the boundary between heretical and common Christianity, and preserved only in scanty fragments and extensive alterations, was, it appears, throughout favourable to Docetism. But the later recensions attest that it was read in wide circles.] [Footnote 260: Even such a formulation as we find in Paul (e.g., Rom. I. 3 f. [Greek: kata sarka--kata pneuma]), does not seem to have been often repeated (yet see 1 Clem. 32. 21). It is of value to Ignatius only, who has before his mind the full Gnostic contrast. But even to him we cannot ascribe any doctrine of two natures: for this requires as its presupposition, the perception that the divinity and humanity are equally essential and important for the personality of the Redeemer Christ. Such insight, however, presupposes a measure and a direction of reflection which the earliest period did not possess. The expression "[Greek: duo ousiai Christou]" first appears in a fragment of Melito, whose genuineness is not, however, generally recognised (see my Texte u. Unters. I. 1. 2. p. 257). Even the definite expression for Christ [Greek: theos ôn homou te kai anthrôpos] was fixed only in consequence of the Gnostic controversy.] [Footnote 261: Hermas (Sim. V. 6. 7) describes the exaltation of Jesus, thus: [Greek: hina kai hê sarx hautê, douleusasa tôi pneumati amemptôs, schaêi topon tina kataskênôseôs, kai mê doxêi ton misthon tês douleias autês apolôlekenai]. The point in question is a reward of grace which consists in a position of rank (see Sim. V. 6. 1). The same thing is manifest from the statements of the later Adoptians. (Cf. the teaching of Paul Samosata).] [Footnote 262: Barnabas, e. g., conceives it as a veil (5. 10: [Greek: ei gar mê êlthen en sarki, oud' an pôs hoi anthrôpoi esôthêsan blepontes auton, hote ton mellonta mê einai hêlion emblepontes ouk ischusousin eis tas aktinas autou antophthalmêsai]). The formulation of the Christian idea in Celsus is instructive (c. Cels VI. 69): "Since God is great and not easily accessible to the view, he put his spirit in a body which is like our own, and sent it down in order that we might be instructed by it." To this conception corresponds the formula: [Greek: erchesthai (phanerousthai) en sarki] (Barnabas, frequently; Polyc. Ep. 7. 1). But some kind of transformation must also have been thought of (See 2 Clem. 9. 5. and Celsus IV. 18: "Either God, as these suppose, is really transformed into a mortal body...." Apoc. Sophon. ed. Stern. 4 fragm. p. 10; "He has transformed himself into a man who comes to us to redeem us"). This conception might grow out of the formula [Greek: sarx egeneto] (Ignat. ad. Eph. 7, 2 is of special importance here). One is almost throughout here satisfied with the [Greek: sarx] of Christ, that is the [Greek: alêtheía tês sarkos], against the Heretics (so Ignatius, who was already anti-gnostic in his attitude). There is very seldom any mention of the humanity of Jesus. Barnabas (12). the author of the Didache (c. 10. 6. See my note on the passage), and Tatian questioned the Davidic Sonship of Jesus, which was strongly emphasised by Ignatius; nay, Barnabas even expressly rejects the designation "Son of Man" (12. 10; [Greek: ide palin Iêsous, ouchì huios anthrôpou alla huios tou theou, tupo de en sarki phanerôtheis]). A docetic thought, however, lies in the assertion that the spiritual being Christ only assumed human flesh, however much the reality of the flesh may be emphasised. The passage 1 Clem. 49. 6, is quite unique: [Greek: to haima autou edôken huper hêmôn Iêsous Christos ... kai tên sarka huper tês sarkos hêmôn kai tên psuchên huper tôn psuchôn humôn]. One would fain believe this an interpolation; the same idea is first found in Irenæus. (V. 1. 1).] [Footnote 263: Even Hermas docs not speak of Jesus as [Greek: anthrôpos] (see Link). This designation was used by the representatives of the Adoptian Christology only after they had expressed their doctrine antithetically and developed it to a theory, and always with a certain reservation. The "[Greek: anthrôpos Christos Iêsous]" in 1 Tim. II. 5 is used in a special sense. The expression [Greek: anthrôpos] for Christ appears twice in the Ignatian Epistles (the third passage Smyrn. 4. 2: [Greek: autou me endunamountos tou teleiou anthrôpou genomenou], apart from the [Greek: genoménou], is critically suspicious, as well as the fourth, Eph. 7. 2; see above), in both passages, however, in connections which seem to modify the humanity; see Eph. 20. 1: [Greek: oikonomia eis ton kainon anthrôpon Iêsoun Christon], Eph. 20. 2: [Greek: tôi huiôi anthrôpou kai huiôi theou].] [Footnote 264: See above p. 185, note; p. 189, note. We have no sure evidence that the later so-called Modalism (Monarchianism) had representatives before the last third of the second century; yet the polemic of Justin, Dial. 128, seems to favour the idea, (the passage already presupposes controversies about the personal independence of the pre-existent pneumatic being of Christ beside God; but one need not necessarily think of such controversies within the communities; Jewish notions might be meant, and this, according to Apol. I. 63, is the more probable). The judgment is therefore so difficult, because there were numerous formulæ in practical use which could be so understood, as if Christ was to be completely identified with the Godhead itself (see Ignat. ad Eph. 7. 2, besides Melito in Otto Corp. Apol. IX. p. 419. and Noëtus in the Philos. IX. 10, p. 448). These formulæ may, in point of fact, have been so understood, here and there, by the rude and uncultivated. The strongest again is presented in writings whose authority was always doubtful: see the Gospel of the Egyptians (Epiph. H. 62. 2), in which must have stood a statement somewhat to this effect: [Greek: ton auton einai patera, ton auton einai huion, ton auton einai hagion pneuma], and the Acta Joh. (ed. Zahn, p. 220 f., 240 f.: [Greek: ho agathos hêmôn theos ho eusplanchnos, ho eleêmôn, ho hagios, ho katharos, ho amiantos, ho monos, ho heis, ho ametablêtos, ho eilikrinês, ho adolos, ho mê orgizomenos, ho pasês hêmin legomenês ê nooumenês prosêgorias anôteros kai hupsêloteros hêmôn theos Iêsous]). In the Act. Joh. are found also prayers with the address [Greek: thee Iêsou Christe] (pp. 242. 247). Even Marcion and a part the Montanists--both bear witness to old traditions--put no value on the distinction between God and Christ; cf. the Apoc. Sophon. A witness to a naive Modalism is found also in the Acta Pionii 9: "Quem deum colis? Respondit: Christum Polemon (judex): Quid ergo? iste alter est? [the co-defendant Christians had immediately before confessed God the Creator] Respondit: Non; sed ipse quem et ipsi paullo ante confessi sunt;" cf. c. 16. Yet a reasoned Modalism may perhaps be assumed here. See also the Martyr Acts; e.g., Acta Petri, Andræ, Pauli et Dionysiæ I (Ruinart, p. 205): [Greek: hêmeis oi Christon ton basilea echomen, hoti alêthinos theos estin kai poiêtês ouranou kai gês kai thalassês]. "Oportet me magis deo vivo et vero. regi sæculorum omnium Christo, sacrificium offerre." Act. Nicephor. 3 (p. 285). I take no note of the Testament of the twelve Patriarchs, out of which one can, of course, beautifully verify the strict Modalistic, and even the Adoptian Christology. But the Testamenta are not a primitive or Jewish Christian writing which Gentile Christians have revised, but a Jewish writing christianised at the end of the second century by a Catholic of Modalistic views. But he has given us a very imperfect work, the Christology of which exhibits many contradictions. It is instructive to find Modalism in the theology of the Simonians, which was partly formed according to Christian ideas; see Irenæus I. 23. I. "hic igitur a multis quasi deus glorificatus est, et docuit semetipsum esse qui inter Judæos quidem quasi filius apparuerit, in Samaria autem quasi pater descenderit, in reliquis vero gentibus quasi Spiritus Sanctus adventaverit."] [Footnote 265: That is a very important fact which clearly follows from the Shepherd. Even the later school of the Adoptians in Rome, and the later Adoptians in general, were forced to assume a divine hypostasis beside the Godhead, which of course sensibly threatened their Christology. The adherents of the pneumatic Christology partly made a definite distinction between the pre-existent Christ and the Holy Spirit (see, e.g., 1 Clem. 22. 1), and partly made use of formulæ from which one could infer an identity of the two. The conceptions about the Holy Spirit were still quite fluctuating; whether he is a power of God, or personal, whether he is identical with the pre-existent Christ, or is to be distinguished from him, whether he is the servant of Christ (Tatian Orat. 13), whether he is only a gift of God to believers, or the eternal Son of God, was quite uncertain. Hermas assumed the latter, and even Origen (de princip. præf. c. 4) acknowledges that it is not yet decided whether or not the Holy Spirit is likewise to be regarded as God's Son. The baptismal formula prevented the identification of the Holy Spirit with the pre-existent Christ, which so readily suggested itself. But so far as Christ was regarded as a [Greek: pneuma], his further demarcation from the angel powers was quite uncertain, as the Shepherd of Hermas proves (though see 1 Clem. 36). For even Justin, in a passage, no doubt, in which his sole purpose was to shew that the Christians were not [Greek: atheoi], could venture to thrust in between God, the Son and the Spirit, the good angels as beings who were worshipped and adored by the Christians (Apol. 1. 6 [if the text be genuine and not an interpolation]; see also the Suppl. of Athanagoras). Justin, and certainly most of those who accepted a pre-existence of Christ, conceived of it as a real pre-existence. Justin was quite well acquainted with the controversy about the independent quality of the power which proceeded from God. To him it is not merely, "Sensus, motus, affectus dei", but a "personalis substantia" (Dial. 128).] [Footnote 266: See the remarkable narrative about the cross in the fragment of the Gospel of Peter, and in Justin, Apol. 1. 55.] [Footnote 267: We must, above all things, be on our guard here against attributing dogmas to the churches, that is to say, to the writers of this period. The difference in the answers to the question, How far and by what means, Jesus procured salvation? was very great, and the majority undoubtedly never at all raised the question, being satisfied with recognising Jesus as the revealer of God's saving will (Didache, 10. 2: [Greek: eucharistoi men soi, pater hagie, huper tou agiou onomatos sou, ou kateskênôsas en tais kardiais hêmôn kai huper tês gnôseôs kai pisteôs kai athanasias, hês egnôrisas hêmin dia Iêsou tou paidos sou]), without reflecting on the fact that this saving will was already revealed in the Old Testament. There is nowhere any mention of a saving work of Christ in the whole Didache, nay, even the _Kerygma_ about him is not taken notice of. The extensive writing of Hermas shews that this is not an accident. There is absolutely no mention here of the birth, death, resurrection, etc., of Jesus, although the author in Sim. V had an occasion for mentioning them. He describes the work of Jesus as (1) preserving the people whom God had chosen. (2) purifying the people from sin, (3) pointing out the path of life and promulgating the Divine law (c. c. 5. 6). This work however, seems to have been performed by the whole life and activity of Jesus; even to the purifying of sin the author has only added the words: [Greek: (kai autos tas hamartias autôn ekatharise) polla kopiasas kai pollous kopous êntlêkôs] (Sim. V. 6. 2). But we must further note that Hermas held the proper and obligatory work of Jesus to be only the preservation of the chosen people (from demons in the last days, and at the end), while in the other two articles he saw a performance in excess of his duty, and wished undoubtedly to declare therewith, that the purifying from sin and the giving of the law are not, strictly speaking, integral parts of the Divine plan of salvation, but are due to the special goodness of Jesus (this idea is explained by Moralism). Now, as Hermas, and others, saw the saving activity of Jesus in his whole labours, others saw salvation given and assured in the moment of Jesus' entrance into the world, and in his personality as a spiritual being become flesh. This mystic conception, which attained such wide-spread recognition later on, has a representative in Ignatius, if one can at all attribute clearly conceived doctrines to this emotional confessor. That something can be declared of Jesus, [Greek: kata pneuma] and [Greek: kata sarka]--this is the mystery on which the significance of Jesus seems to Ignatius essentially to rest, but how far is not made clear. But the [Greek: pathos (haima, stauros)] and [Greek: anastasis] of Jesus are to the same writer of great significance, and by forming paradoxical formulæ of worship, and turning to account reminiscences of Apostolic sayings, he seems to wish to base the whole salvation brought by Christ on his suffering and resurrection (see Lightfoot on Eph. inscr. Vol. II. p. 25). In this connection also, he here and there regards all articles of the _Kerygma_ as of fundamental significance. At all events, we have in the Ignatian Epistles the first attempt in the post-Apostolic literature, to connect all the theses of the _Kerygma_ about Jesus as closely as possible with the benefits which he brought. But only the will of the writer is plain here, all else is confused, and what is mainly felt is that the attempt to conceive the blessings of salvation as the fruit of the sufferings and resurrection, has deprived them of their definiteness and clearness. In proof we may adduce the following: If we leave out of account the passages in which Ignatius speaks of the necessity of repentance for the Heretics, or the Heathen, and the possibility that their sins may be forgiven (Philad. 3. 2:8. 1; Smyrn. 4. 1: 5-3; Eph. 10. 1), there remains only one passage in which the forgiveness of sin is mentioned, and that only contains a traditional formula (Smyrn 7. 1: [Greek: sarx Iêsou Christou, hê huper tôn hamartiôn hêmôn pathousa]). The same writer, who is constantly speaking of the [Greek: pathos] and [Greek: anastasis] of Christ, has nothing to say, to the communities to which he writes, about the forgiveness of sin. Even the concept "sin", apart from the passages just quoted, appears only once, viz., Eph 14. 2: [Greek: oudeis pistin epangellomenos hamartanei]. Ignatius has only once spoken to a community about repentance (Smyrn. 9. 1). It is characteristic that the summons to repentance runs exactly as in Hermas and 2 Clem., the conclusion only being peculiarly Ignatian. It is different with Barnabas, Clement and Polycarp. They (see 1 Clem. 7. 4:12, 7:21, 6:49 6; Barn. 5. 1 ff.) place the forgiveness of sin procured by Jesus in the foreground, connect it most definitely with the death of Christ, and in some passages seem to have a conception of that connection, which reminds us of Paul. But this just shews that they are dependent here on Paul (or on 1st Peter), and on a closer examination we perceive that they very imperfectly understand Paul, and have no independent insight into the series of ideas which they reproduce. That is specially plain in Clement. For in the first place, he everywhere passes over the resurrection (he mentions it only twice, once as a guarantee of our own resurrection, along with the Phoenix and other guarantees, 24. 1, and then as a means whereby the Apostles were convinced that the kingdom of God will come, 42. 3). In the second place, he in one passage declares that the [Greek: charis metanoias] was communicated to the world through the shedding of Christ's blood (7. 4.) But this transformation of the [Greek: aphesis hamartiôn] into [Greek: charis metanoias] plainly shews that Clement had merely taken over from tradition the special estimate of the death of Christ as procuring salvation; for it is meaningless to deduce the [Greek: charis metanoias] from the blood of Christ. Barnabas testifies more plainly that Christ behoved to offer the vessel of his spirit as a sacrifice for our sins (4. 3; 5. 1), nay, the chief aim of his letter is to harmonise the correct understanding of the cross, the blood, and death of Christ in connection with baptism, the forgiveness of sin, and sanctification (application of the idea of sacrifice). He also unites the death and resurrection of Jesus (5. 6: [Greek: autos de hina kataergêsêi ton thanaton kai tên ek nekrôn anastasin deixêi, hoti en sarki edei auton phanerôthênai, hupemeinen, hina kai tois patrasin tên epangellian apodôi kai autos heautôi ton laon ton kainon hetoimazôn epideixêi, epi tês gês ôn. hoti tên anastasin autos poiêsas krinei]): but the significance of the death of Christ is for him at bottom, the fact that it is the fulfilment of prophecy. But the prophecy is related, above all, to the significance of the tree, and so Barnabas on one occasion says with admirable clearness (5. 13); [Greek: autos de êthelêsen houtô pathein; edei gar hina epi xulou pathêi]. The notion which Barnabas entertains of the [Greek: sarx] of Christ suggests the supposition that he could have given up all reference to the death of Christ, if it had not been transmitted as a fact and predicted in the Old Testament. Justin shews still less certainty. To him also, as to Ignatius, the cross (the death) of Christ is a great, nay, the greatest mystery, and he sees all things possible in it (see Apol. 1. 35, 55). He knows, further, as a man acquainted with the Old Testament, how to borrow from it very many points of view for the significance of Christ's death, (Christ the sacrifice, the Paschal lamb; the death of Christ the means of redeeming men; death as the enduring of the curse for us; death as the victory over the devil; see Dial 44. 90, 91, 111, 134). But in the discussions which set forth in a more intelligible way the significance of Christ, definite facts from the history have no place at all, and Justin nowhere gives any indication of seeing in the death of Christ more than the mystery of the Old Testament, and the confirmation of its trustworthiness. On the other hand, it cannot be mistaken that the idea of an individual righteous man being able effectively to sacrifice himself for the whole, in order through his voluntary death to deliver them from evil, was not unknown to antiquity. Origen (c. Celsum 1. 31) has expressed himself on this point in a very instructive way. The purity and voluntariness of him who sacrifices himself are here the main things. Finally, we must be on our guard against supposing that the expressions [Greek: sôrtia, apolutrôsis] and the like, were as a rule related to the deliverance from sin. In the superscription of the Epistle from Lyons, for example, (Euseb. H. E V. 1. 3: [Greek: hoi autên tês apolutrôseôs hêmin pistin kai elpida echontes]) the future redemption is manifestly to be understood by [Greek: apolutrôsis].] [Footnote 268: On the Ascension, see my edition of the Apost. Fathers I. 2, p. 138. Paul knows nothing of an Ascension, nor is it mentioned by Clement, Ignatius, Hermas, or Polycarp. In no case did it belong to the earliest preaching. Resurrection and sitting at the right hand of God are frequently united in the formulæ (Eph. I. 20; Acts. II. 32 ff.) According to Luke XXIV. 51, and Barn. 15. 9, the ascension into heaven took place on the day of the resurrection (probably also according to Joh. XX. 17; see also the fragment of the Gosp. of Peter), and is hardly to be thought of as happening but once (Joh. III. 13; VI 62; see also Rom. X. 6 f.; Eph. IV. 9 f; 1 Pet. III. 19 f.; very instructive for the origin of the notion). According to the Valentinians and Ophites, Christ ascended into heaven 18 months after the resurrection (Iren. I. 3. 2; 30. 14); according to the Ascension of Isaiah, 545 days (ed. Dillmann, pp. 43. 57 etc.); according to Pistis Sophia 11 years after the resurrection. The statement that the Ascension took place 40 days after the resurrection is first found in the Acts of the Apostles. The position of the [Greek: anelêmphthê en doxêi], in the fragment of an old Hymn, 1 Tim. III. 16, is worthy of note, in so far as it follows the [Greek: ôphthê angelois, ekêruchthê en ethnesin, episteuthê en kosmôi]. Justin speaks very frequently of the Ascension into heaven (see also Aristides). It is to him a necessary part of the preaching about Christ. On the descent into hell, see the collection of passages in my edition of the Apost. Fathers, III. p. 232. It is important to note that it is found already in the Gospel of Peter ([Greek: ekêruxas tois koimômenois, nai]), and that even Marcion recognised it (in Iren. I. 27. 31), as well as the Presbyter of Irenæus (IV. 27. 2), and Ignatius (ad Magn. 9. 3), see also Celsus in Orig. II. 43. The witnesses to it are very numerous, see Huidekoper, "The belief of the first three centuries concerning Christ's Mission to the under-world." New York, 1876.] [Footnote 269: See the Pastoral Epistles, and the Epistles of Ignatius and Polycarp.] [Footnote 270: The "facts" of the history of Jesus were handed down to the following period as mysteries predicted in the Old Testament, but the idea of sacrifice was specially attached to the death of Christ, certainly without any closer definition. It is very noteworthy that in the Romish baptismal confession, the Davidic Sonship of Jesus, the baptism, the descent into the under-world, and the setting up of a glorious Kingdom on the earth, are not mentioned. These articles do not appear even in the parallel confessions which began to be formed. The hesitancy that yet prevailed here with regard to details, is manifest from the fact, for example, that instead of the formula, "Jesus was born of ([Greek: ek]) Mary," is found the other, "He was born through ([Greek: dia]) Mary" (see Justin, Apol. I. 22. 31-33, 54, 63; Dial. 23. 43, 45. 48, 57. 54, 63, 66, 75, 85, 87, 100, 105, 120, 127), Iren. (I. 7. 2) and Tertull. (de carne 20) first contested the [Greek: dia] against the Valentinians.] [Footnote 271: This was strongly emphasised see my remarks on Barn. 2. 3. The Jewish cultus is often brought very close to the heathen by Gentile Christian writers: Praed. Petri (Clem. Strom. VI. 5. 41) [Greek: kainôs ton theon dia tou Christou sebometha]. The statement in Joh. IV. 24, [Greek: pneuma ho theos kai tous proskunountas auton en pneumati kai alêtheias dei proskunein], was for long the guiding principle for the Christian worship of God.] [Footnote 272: Ps. LI. 19 is thus opposed to the ceremonial system (Barn. 2. 10). Polycarp consumed by fire is (Mart. 14. 1) compared to a [Greek: krios episêmos ek megalou poimniou eis prosphoran olokautôma dekton tôi theôi hêtoimasmenon].] [Footnote 273: See Barn. 6. 15, 16, 7-9, Tatian Orat. 15, Ignat. ad. Eph. 9. 15, Herm Mand. V. etc. The designation of Christians as priests is not often found.] [Footnote 274: Justin, Apol. I. 9. Dial. 117 [Greek: hoti men oun kai euchai ka eucharistiai, hupo tôn axiôn ginomenai teleiai monai kai euarestoi eisi tôi theôi thusiai kai autos phêmi], see also still the later Fathers: Clem. Strom. VII. 6. 31: [Greek: hêmeis di euchês timômen ton theon kai tautên tên thusian aristên kai hagiôtatên meta dikaiosunês anapempomen tôi dikaiôi logôi], Iren. III. 18. 3, Ptolem ad. Floram. 3: [Greek: prosphoras prospherein prosetaxen hêmin ho sôtêr alla ouchi tas di alogôn zôôn hê toutôn tôn dômiamatôn alla dia pneumatikôn ainôn kai doxôn kai eucharistias kaì dia tês eis tous plêsion koinônias kai eupoiias].] [Footnote 275: The Jewish regulations about fastings together with the Jewish system of sacrifice were rejected, but on the other hand, in virtue of words of the Lord, fasts were looked upon as a necessary accompaniment of prayer and definite arrangements were already made for them (see Barn. 3, Didache 8, Herm. Sim. V. 1. ff). The fast is to have a special value from the fact that whatever one saved by means of it is to be given to the poor (see Hermas and Aristides, Apol. 15, "And if any one among the Christians is poor and in want, and they have not overmuch of the means of life, they fast two or three days in order that they may provide those in need with the food they require"). The statement of James I. 27 [Greek: thrêskeia kathara kai amiantos para tô theô kai patri hautê estin episkeptesthai orphanous kai chêras en tê thlipsei autôn], was again and again inculcated in diverse phraseology (Polycarp Ep. 4, called the Widows [Greek: thusiastêrion] of the community). Where moralistic views preponderated as in Hermas and 2 Clement good works were already valued in detail, prayers, fasts, alms appeared separately, and there was already introduced especially under the influence of the so-called deutero-canonical writings of the Old Testament the idea of a special meritoriousness of certain performances in fasts and alms (see 2 Clem. 16. 4). Still the idea of the Christian moral life as a whole occupied the foreground (see Didache cc. 1-5) and the exhortations to love God and one's neighbour, which as exhortations to a moral life were brought forward in every conceivable relation, supplemented the general summons to renounce the world just as the official diaconate of the churches originating in the cultus, prevented the decomposition of them into a society of ascetics.] [Footnote 276: For details, see below in the case of the Lord's Supper. It is specially important that even charity, through its union with the cultus, appeared as sacrificial worship (see e.g. Polyc. Ep. 4. 3).] [Footnote 277: The idea of sacrifice adopted by the Gentile Christian communities, was that which was expressed in individual prophetic sayings and in the Psalms, a spiritualising of the Semitic Jewish sacrificial ritual which, however, had not altogether lost its original features. The entrance of Greek ideas of sacrifice cannot be traced before Justin. Neither was there as yet any reflection as to the connection of the sacrifice of the Church with the sacrifice of Christ upon the cross.] [Footnote 278: See my Texte und Unters. z Gesch. d. Altchristl. Lit. II. 1. 2, p. 88 ff., p. 137 ff.] [Footnote 279: There neither was a "doctrine" of Baptism and the Lord's Supper, nor was there any inner connection presupposed between these holy actions. They were here and there placed together as actions by the Lord.] [Footnote 280: Melito, Fragm. XII. (Otto. Corp. Apol. IX. p. 418). [Greek: Duo sunestê ta aphesin hamartêmatôn parechomena, pathos dia Xriston kai baptisma].] [Footnote 281: There is no sure trace of infant baptism in this epoch; personal faith is a necessary condition (see Hermas, Vis. III. 7. 3; Justin, Apol. 1. 61). "Prius est prædicare posterius tinguere" (Tertull. "de bapt." 14).] [Footnote 282: On the basis of repentance. See Praed. Petri in Clem. Strom. VI. 5. 43, 48.] [Footnote 283: See especially the second Epistle of Clement; Tertull. "de bapt." 15: "Felix aqua quæ semel abluit, quas ludibrio peccatoribus non est."] [Footnote 284: The sinking and rising in baptism, and the immersion, were regarded as significant, but not indispensable symbols (see Didache. 7). The most important passages for baptism are Didache 7; Barn. 6. 11; 11. 1. 11 (the connection in which the cross of Christ is here placed to the water is important; the tertium comp. is that forgiveness of sin is the result of both); Herm. Vis. III. 3, Sim. IX 16. Mand. IV. 3 ([Greek: hetera metanoia ouk estin ei mê ekeinê, hote eis hudôr katebêmen kai elabomen aphesin hamartiôn hêmôn tôn proteron]); 2 Clem. 6. 9; 7. 6; 8. 6. Peculiar is Ignat. ad. Polyc. 6. 2: [Greek: to baptisma humôn menetô hôs hopla]. Specially important is Justin, Apol. I. 61. 65. To this also belong many passages from Tertullian's treatise "de bapt."; a Gnostic baptismal hymn in the third pseudo-Solomonic ode in the Pistis Sophia, p. 131, ed. Schwartze; Marcion's baptismal formula in Irenæus 1. 21. 3. It clearly follows from the seventh chapter of the Didache, that its author held that the pronouncing of the sacred names over the baptised, and over the water, was essential, but that immersion was not; see the thorough examination of this passage by Schaff, "The oldest church manual called the teaching of the twelve Apostles" pp. 29-57. The controversy about the nature of John's baptism in its relation to Christian baptism, is very old in Christendom; see also Tertull. "de bapt." 10. Tertullian sees in John's baptism only a baptism to repentance, not to forgiveness.] [Footnote 285: In Hermas and 2 Clement. The expression probably arose from the language of the mysteries: see Appuleius, "de Magia", 55: "Sacrorum pleraque initia in Græcia participavi. Eorum quædam signa et monumenta tradita mihi a sacerdotibus sedulo conservo." Ever since the Gentile Christians conceived baptism (and the Lord's Supper) according to the mysteries, they were of course always surprised by the parallel with the mysteries themselves. That begins with Justin. Tertullian, "de bapt." 5, says: "Sed enim nationes extraneæ, ab omni intellectu spiritalium potestatum eadem efficacia idolis suis subministrant. Sed viduis aquis sibi mentiuntur. Nam et sacris quibusdam per lavacrum initiantur, Isidis alicujus aut Mithræ; ipsos etiam deos suos lavationibus efferunt. Ceterum villas, domos, templa totasque urbes aspergine circumlatæ aquæ; expiant passim. Certe ludis Apollinaribus et Eleusiniis tinguuntur, idque se in regenerationem et impunitatem periuriorum suorum agere præsumunt. Item penes veteres, quisquis se homicidio infecerat, purgatrices aquas explorabat." De praescr. 40: "Diabolus ipsas quoque res sacramentorum divinorum idolorum mysteriis æmulatur. Tingit et ipse quosdam, utique credentes et fideles suos; expositionem delictorum de lavacro repromittit. et si adhuc memini, Mithras signat illic in frontibus milites suos, celebrat et panis oblationem et imaginem resurrectionis inducit ... summum pontificem in unius nuptiis statuit, habet et virgines, habet et continentes." The ancient notion that matter has a mysterious influence on spirit, came very early into vogue in connection with baptism. We see that from Tertullian's treatise on baptism and his speculations about the power of the water (c. 1 ff.). The water must, of course, have been first consecrated for this purpose (that is, the demons must be driven out of it). But then it is holy water with which the Holy Spirit is united, and which is able really to cleanse the soul. See Hatch, "The influence of Greek ideas, etc.," p. 19. The consecration of the water is certainly very old: though we have no definite witnesses from the earliest period. Even for the exorcism of the baptised before baptism I know of no earlier witness than the Sentent. LXXXVII. episcoporum (Hartel. Opp. Cypr. I. p. 450, No. 37: "primo per manus impositionem in exorcismo, secundo per baptismi regenerationem").] [Footnote 286: Justin is the first who does so (I. 61). The word comes from the Greek mysteries. On Justin's theory of baptism, see also I. 62. and Von Engelhardt, "Christenthum Justin's," p. 102 f.] [Footnote 287: Paul unites baptism and the communication of the Spirit; but they were very soon represented apart, see the accounts in the Acts of the Apostles, which are certainly very obscure, because the author has evidently never himself observed the descent of the Spirit, or anything like it. The ceasing of special manifestations of the Spirit in and after baptism, and the enforced renunciation of seeing baptism accompanied by special shocks, must be regarded as the first stage in the sobering of the churches.] [Footnote 288: The idea of the whole transaction of the Supper as a sacrifice, is plainly found in the Didache, (c. 14), in Ignatius, and, above all, in Justin (I. 65 f.) But even Clement of Rome presupposes it, when in (cc. 40-44) he draws a parallel between bishops and deacons and the Priests and Levites of the Old Testament, describing as the chief function of the former (44. 4) [Greek: prospherein ta dôra]. This is not the place to enquire whether the first celebration had, in the mind of its founder, the character of a sacrificial meal; but, certainly, the idea, as it was already developed at the time of Justin, had been created by the churches. Various reasons tended towards seeing in the Supper a sacrifice. In the first place, Malachi I. 11, demanded a solemn Christian sacrifice: see my notes on Didache, 14. 3. In the second place, all prayers were regarded as sacrifice, and therefore the solemn prayers at the Supper must be specially considered as such. In the third place, the words of institution [Greek: touto poieite], contained a command with regard to a definite religious action. Such an action, however, could only be represented as a sacrifice, and this the more that the Gentile Christians might suppose that they had to understand [Greek: poiein] in the sense of [Greek: thuein]. In the fourth place, payments in kind were necessary for the "agapæ" connected with the Supper, out of which were taken the bread and wine for the Holy celebration; in what other aspect could these offerings in the worship be regarded than as [Greek: prosphorai] for the purpose of a sacrifice? Yet the spiritual idea so prevailed that only the prayers were regarded as the [Greek: thusia] proper, even in the case of Justin (Dial. 117). The elements are only [Greek: dôra, prosphorai] which obtain their value from the prayers, in which thanks are given for the gifts of creation and redemption, as well as for the holy meal, and entreaty is made for the introduction of the community into the Kingdom of God (see Didache, 9. 10). Therefore, even the sacred meal itself is called [Greek: eucharistia] (Justin, Apol. I. 66: [Greek: hê trophê hautê chaleitai par' hêmin eucharistia]). Didache, 9. 1; Ignat., because it is [Greek: trophê eucharistêtheisa]. It is a mistake to suppose that Justin already understood the body of Christ to be the object of [Greek: poiein], and therefore thought of a sacrifice of this body (I. 66). The real sacrificial act in the Supper consists rather, according to Justin, only in the [Greek: eucharistian poiein], whereby the [Greek: koinos artos] becomes the [Greek: artos tês eucharistias]. The sacrifice of the Supper in its essence, apart from the offering of alms, which in the practice of the Church was closely united with it, is nothing but a sacrifice of prayer: the sacrificial act of the Christian here also is nothing else than an act of prayer (see Apol. I. 13, 65-67; Dial. 28, 29, 41, 70, 116-118).] [Footnote 289: Justin lays special stress on this purpose. On the other hand, it is wanting in the Supper prayers of the Didache, unless c. 9. 2 be regarded as an allusion to it.] [Footnote 290: The designation [Greek: thusia] is first found in the Didache, c. 14.] [Footnote 291: The Supper was regarded as a "Sacrament" in so far as a blessing was represented in its holy food. The conception of the nature of this blessing as set forth in John VI. 27-58, appears to have been the most common. It may be traced back to Ignatius, ad Eph. 20.2: [Greek: hena arton klôntes hos estin pharmakon athanasias, antidotos tou mê apothanein alla zên en Iêsou Christou dia pantos]. Cf Didache, 10.3: [Greek: hêmin echarisô pneumatikên trophên kai poton kai zôên aiônion], also 10.21: [Greek: eucharistoumen soi huper tês gnôseôs kai pisteos kai athanasias]. Justin Apol. 1. 66: [Greek: ek tês trophês tautês haima kai sarkes kata metabolên trephontai hêmôn kata metabolên] that is, the holy food, like all nourishment, is completely transformed into our flesh; but what Justin has in view here is most probably the body of the resurrection. The expression, as the context shews, is chosen for the sake of the parallel to the incarnation). Iren. IV. 18. 5; V. 2. 2 f. As to how the elements are related to the body and blood of Christ, Ignatius seems to have expressed himself in a strictly realistic way in several passages, especially ad. Smyr. 7-1: [Greek: eucharistias kai proseuchês apechontai dia to mê homologein, tên eucharistian sarka einai tou sôtêros hêmôn Iêsou Christou, tên huper tôn hamartion hêmôn pathousan]. But many passages shew that Ignatius was far from such a conception, and rather thought as John did. In Trall. 8, faith is described as the flesh, and love as the blood of Christ; in Rom. 7, in one breath the flesh of Christ is called the bread of God, and the blood [Greek: agapê aphthartos]. In Philad. 1, we read: [Greek: haima I. Chr. hêtis estin chara aiônios kai paramonos]. In Philad. 5, the Gospel is called the flesh of Christ, etc. Höfling is therefore right in saying (Lehre v. Opfer, p. 39): "The Eucharist is to Ignatius [Greek: sarx] of Christ, as a visible Gospel, a kind of Divine institution attesting the content of [Greek: pistis], viz., belief in the [Greek: sarx pathousa], an institution which is at the same time, to the community, a means of representing and preserving its unity in this belief." On the other hand, it cannot be mistaken that Justin (Apol. I. 66) presupposed the identity, miraculously produced by the Logos, of the consecrated bread and the body he had assumed. In this we have probably to recognise an influence on the conception of the Supper, of the miracle represented in the Greek Mysteries: [Greek: Ouch hôs koinon arton oude koinon poma tauta lambanomen, all' hon tropon dia logou theou sarkopoiêtheis Iêsous Christos ho sôtêr hêmôn kai sarka kaì haima huper sôtêrias hêmôn eschen, houtôs kai tên di' euchês logou tou par' autou eucharistêtheisan trophên, ex ês haima ka sarkes kata metabolen trephontai hemôn, ekeinou tou sarkopoiethentos Iêsou kai sarka kai haima edidachthêmen einai] (See Von Otto on the passage). In the Texte u. Unters. VII. 2. p. 117 ff., I have shewn that in the different Christian circles of the second century, water and only water was often used in the Supper instead of wine, and that in many regions this custom was maintained up to the middle of the third century (see Cypr. Ep. 63). I have endeavoured to make it further probable, that even Justin in his Apology describes a celebration of the Lord's Supper with bread and water. The latter has been contested by Zahn, "Bread and wine in the Lord's Supper, in the early Church," 1892, and Jülicher, Zur Gesch. der Abendmahlsfeier in der aeltesten Kirche (Abhandl. f Weiszacker, 1892, p. 217 ff.] [Footnote 292: Ignatius calls the thank-offering the flesh of Christ, but the concept "flesh of Christ" is for him itself a spiritual one. On the contrary, Justin sees in the bread the actual flesh of Christ, but does not connect it with the idea of sacrifice. They are thus both as yet far from the later conception. The numerous allegories which are already attached to the Supper (one bread equivalent to one community; many scattered grains bound up in the one bread, equivalent to the Christians scattered abroad in the world, who are to be gathered together into the Kingdom of God; one altar, equivalent to one assembly of the community, excluding private worship, etc.), cannot as a group be adduced here.] [Footnote 293: Cf. for the following my arguments in the larger edition of the "Teaching of the Apostles" Chap 5, (Texte u. Unters II. 1. 2). The numerous recent enquiries (Loening, Loofs, Réville etc.) will be found referred to in Sohm's Kirchenrecht. Vol. I. 1892, where the most exhaustive discussions are given.] [Footnote 294: That the bishops and deacons were, primarily, officials connected with the cultus, is most clearly seen from 1 Clem. 40-44, but also from the connection in which the 14th Chap. of the Didache stands with the 15th (see the [Greek: oun], 15. 1) to which Hatch in conversation called my attention. The [Greek: philoxenia], and the intercourse with other communities (the fostering of the "unitas") belonged, above all, to the affairs of the church. Here, undoubtedly, from the beginning lay an important part of the bishop's duties. Ramsay ("The Church in the Roman Empire," p. 361 ff.) has emphasised this point exclusively, and therefore one-sidedly. According to him, the monarchical Episcopate sprang from the officials who were appointed _ad hoc_ and for a time, for the purpose of promoting intercourse with other churches.] [Footnote 295: Sohm (in the work mentioned above) seeks to prove that the monarchical Episcopate originated in Rome and is already presupposed by Hermas. I hold that the proof for this has not been adduced, and I must also in great part reject the bold statements which are fastened on to the first Epistle of Clement. They may be comprehended in the proposition which Sohm, p. 158, has placed at the head of his discussion of the Epistle. "The first Epistle of Clement makes an epoch in the history of the organisation of the Church. It was destined to put an end to the early Christian constitution of the Church." According to Sohm (p. 165), another immediate result of the Epistle was a change of constitution in the Romish Church, the introduction of the monarchical Episcopate. That, however, can only be asserted, not proved; for the proof which Sohm has endeavoured to bring from Ignatius' Epistle to the Romans and the Shepherd of Hermas, is not convincing.] [Footnote 296: See, above all, 1 Clem. 42, 44, Acts of the Apostles, Pastoral Epistles, etc.] [Footnote 297: This idea is Romish. See Book II. chap, 11 C.] [Footnote 298: We must remember here, that besides the teachers, elders, and deacons, the ascetics (virgins, widows, celibates, abstinentes) and the martyrs (confessors) enjoyed a special respect in the Churches, and frequently laid hold of the government and leading of them. Hermas enjoins plainly enough the duty of esteeming the confessors higher than the presbyters (Vis. III. 1. 2). The widows were soon entrusted with diaconal tasks connected with the worship, and received a corresponding respect. As to the limits of this there was, as we can gather from different passages, much disagreement. One statement in Tertullian shews that the confessors had special claims to be considered in the choice of a bishop (adv. Valent. 4: "Speraverat Episcopatum Valentinus, quia et ingenio poterat et eloquio. Sed alium ex martyrii praerogativa loci potitum indignatus de ecclesia authenticae regulæ abrupit"). This statement is strengthened by other passages; see Tertull. de fuga; 11. "Hoc sentire et facere omnem servum dei oportet, etiam minoris loci, ut maioris fieri possit, si quem gradum in persecutionis tolerantia ascenderit"; see Hippol in the Arab. canons, and also Achelis, Texte u. Unters VI. 4. pp. 67, 220; Cypr. Epp. 38. 39. The way in which confessors and ascetics, from the end of the second century, attempted to have their say in the leading of the Churches, and the respectful way in which it was sought to set their claims aside, shew that a special relation to the Lord, and therefore a special right with regard to the community, was early acknowledged to these people, on account of their achievements. On the transition of the old prophets and teachers into wandering ascetics, later into monks, see the Syriac Pseudo-Clementine Epistles, "de virginitate," and my Abhandl i d. Sitzungsberichten d. K. Pr. Akad. d. Wissensch. 1891, p. 361 ff.] [Footnote 299: See Weizsäcker, Gött Gel. Anz. 1886, No. 21, whose statements I can almost entirely make my own.] CHAPTER IV THE ATTEMPTS OF THE GNOSTICS TO CREATE AN APOSTOLIC DOGMATIC, AND A CHRISTIAN THEOLOGY; OR, THE ACUTE SECULARISING OF CHRISTIANITY. § 1. _The Conditions for the Rise of Gnosticism._ The Christian communities were originally unions for a holy life, on the ground of a common hope, which rested on the belief that the God who has spoken by the Prophets has sent his Son Jesus Christ, and through him revealed eternal life, and will shortly make it manifest. Christianity had its roots in certain facts and utterances, and the foundation of the Christian union was the common hope, the holy life in the Spirit according to the law of God, and the holding fast to those facts and utterances. There was, as the foregoing chapter will have shewn, no fixed Didache beyond that.[300] There was abundance of fancies, ideas, and knowledge, but these had not yet the value of being the religion itself. Yet the belief that Christianity guarantees the perfect knowledge, and leads from one degree of clearness to another, was in operation from the very beginning. This conviction had to be immediately tested by the Old Testament, that is, the task was imposed on the majority of thinking Christians, by the circumstances in which the Gospel had been proclaimed to them, of making the Old Testament intelligible to themselves, in other words, of using this book as a Christian book, and of finding the means by which they might be able to repel the Jewish claim to it, and refute the Jewish interpretation of it. This task would not have been imposed, far less solved, if the Christian communities in the Empire had not entered into the inheritance of the Jewish propaganda, which had already been greatly influenced by foreign religions (Babylonian and Persian, see the Jewish Apocalypses), and in which an extensive spiritualising of the Old Testament religion had already taken place. This spiritualising was the result of a philosophic view of religion, and this philosophic view was the outcome of a lasting influence of Greek philosophy and of the Greek spirit generally on Judaism. In consequence of this view, all facts and sayings of the Old Testament in which one could not find his way, were allegorised. "Nothing was what it seemed, but was only the symbol of something invisible. The history of the Old Testament was here sublimated to a history of the emancipation of reason from passion." It describes, however, the beginning of the historical development of Christianity, that as soon as it wished to give account of itself, or to turn to advantage the documents of revelation which were in its possession, it had to adopt the methods of that fantastic syncretism. We have seen above that those writers who made a diligent use of the Old Testament, had no hesitation in making use of the allegorical method. That was required not only by the inability to understand the verbal sense of the Old Testament, presenting diverging moral and religious opinions, but, above all, by the conviction, that on every page of that book Christ and the Christian Church must be found. How could this conviction have been maintained, unless the definite concrete meaning of the documents had been already obliterated by the Jewish philosophic view of the Old Testament? This necessary allegorical interpretation, however, brought into the communities an intellectual philosophic element, a _gnosis_, which was perfectly distinct from the Apocalyptic dreams, in which were beheld angel hosts on white horses, Christ with eyes as a flame of fire, hellish beasts, conflict and victory.[301] In this [Greek: gnôsis], which attached itself to the Old Testament, many began to see the specific blessing which was promised to mature faith, and through which it was to attain perfection. What a wealth of relations, hints, and intuitions seemed to disclose itself, as soon as the Old Testament was considered allegorically, and to what extent had the way been prepared here by the Jewish philosophic teachers! From the simple narratives of the Old Testament had already been developed a theosophy, in which the most abstract ideas had acquired reality, and from which sounded forth the Hellenic canticle of the power of the Spirit over matter and sensuality, and of the true home of the soul. Whatever in this great adaptation still remained obscure and unnoticed, was now lighted up by the history of Jesus, his birth, his life, his sufferings and triumph. The view of the Old Testament as a document of the deepest wisdom, transmitted to those who knew how to read it as such, unfettered the intellectual interest which would not rest until it had entirely transferred the new religion from the world of feelings, actions and hopes, into the world of Hellenic conceptions, and transformed it into a metaphysic. In that exposition of the Old Testament which we find, for example, in the so-called Barnabas, there is already concealed an important philosophic, Hellenic element, and in that sermon which bears the name of Clement (the so-called second Epistle of Clement), conceptions such as that of the Church, have already assumed a bodily form and been joined in marvellous connections, while, on the contrary, things concrete have been transformed into things invisible. But once the intellectual interest was unfettered, and the new religion had approximated to the Hellenic spirit by means of a philosophic view of the Old Testament, how could that spirit be prevented from taking complete and immediate possession of it, and where, in the first instance, could the power be found that was able to decide whether this or that opinion was incompatible with Christianity? This Christianity, as it was, unequivocally excluded all polytheism, and all national religions existing in the Empire. It opposed to them the one God, the Saviour Jesus, and a spiritual worship of God. But, at the same time, it summoned all thoughtful men to knowledge, by declaring itself to be the only true religion, while it appeared to be only a variety of Judaism. It seemed to put no limits to the character and extent of the knowledge, least of all to such knowledge as was able to allow all that was transmitted to remain, and at the same time, abolish it by transforming it into mysterious symbols. That really was the method which every one must and did apply who wished to get from Christianity more than practical motives and super-earthly hopes. But where was the limit of the application? Was not the next step to see in the Evangelic records also new material for spiritual interpretations, and to illustrate from the narratives there, as from The Old Testament, the conflict of the spirit with matter, of reason with sensuality? Was not the conception that the traditional deeds of Christ were really the last act in the struggle of those mighty spiritual powers whose conflict is delineated in the Old Testament, at least as evident as the other, that those deeds were the fulfilment of mysterious promises? Was it not in keeping with the consciousness possessed by the new religion of being the universal religion, that one should not be satisfied with mere beginnings of a new knowledge, or with fragments of it, but should seek to set up such knowledge in a complete and systematic form, and so to exhibit the best and universal system of life as also the best and universal system of knowledge of the world? Finally, did not the free and yet so rigid forms in which the Christian communities were organised, the union of the mysterious with a wonderful publicity, of the spiritual with significant rites (baptism and the Lord's Supper), invite men to find here the realisation of the ideal which the Hellenic religious spirit was at that time seeking, viz., a communion which in virtue of a Divine revelation, is in possession of the highest knowledge, and therefore leads the holiest life, a communion which does not communicate this knowledge by discourse, but by mysterious efficacious consecrations, and by revealed dogmas? These questions are thrown out here in accordance with the direction which the historical progress of Christianity took. The phenomenon called Gnosticism gives the answer to them.[302] § 2. _The Nature of Gnosticism._ The Catholic Church afterwards claimed as her own those writers of the first century (60-160) who were content with turning speculation to account only as a means of spiritualising the Old Testament, without, however, attempting a systematic reconstruction of tradition. But all those who in the first century undertook to furnish Christian practice with the foundation of a complete systematic knowledge, she declared false Christians, Christians only in name. Historical enquiry cannot accept this judgment. On the contrary, it sees in Gnosticism a series of undertakings, which in a certain way is analogous to the Catholic embodiment of Christianity, in doctrine, morals, and worship. The great distinction here consists essentially in the fact that the Gnostic systems represent the acute secularising or hellenising of Christianity, with the rejection of the Old Testament,[303] while the Catholic system, on the other hand, represents a gradual process of the same kind with the conservation of the Old Testament. The traditional religion on being, as it were, suddenly required to recognise itself in a picture foreign to it, was yet vigorous enough to reject that picture; but to the gradual, and one might say indulgent remodelling to which it was subjected, it offered but little resistance, nay, as a rule, it was never conscious of it. It is therefore no paradox to say that Gnosticism, which is just Hellenism, has in Catholicism obtained half a victory. We have, at least, the same justification for that assertion--the parallel may be permitted--as we have for recognising a triumph of 18th century ideas in the first Empire, and a continuance, though with reservations, of the old regime. From this point of view the position to be assigned to the Gnostics in the history of dogma, which has hitherto been always misunderstood, is obvious. _They were, in short, the Theologians of the first century._[304] They were the first to transform Christianity into a system of doctrines (dogmas). They were the first to work up tradition systematically. They undertook to present Christianity as the absolute religion, and therefore placed it in definite opposition to the other religions, even to Judaism. But to them the absolute religion, viewed in its contents, was identical with the result of the philosophy of religion for which the support of a revelation was to be sought. They are therefore those Christians who, in a swift advance, attempted to capture Christianity for Hellenic culture, and Hellenic culture for Christianity, and who gave up the Old Testament in order to facilitate the conclusion of the covenant between the two powers, and make it possible to assert the absoluteness of Christianity.--But the significance of the Old Testament in the religious history of the world, lies just in this, that, in order to be maintained at all, it required the application of the allegoric method, that is, a definite proportion of Greek ideas, and that, on the other hand, it opposed the strongest barrier to the complete hellenising of Christianity. Neither the sayings of Jesus, nor Christian hopes, were at first capable of forming such a barrier. If, now, the majority of Gnostics could make the attempt to disregard the Old Testament, that is a proof that, in wide circles of Christendom, people were at first satisfied with an abbreviated form of the Gospel, containing the preaching of the one God, of the resurrection and of continence, a law and an ideal of practical life.[305] In this form, as it was realised in life, the Christianity which dispensed with "doctrines" seemed capable of union with every form of thoughtful and earnest philosophy, because the Jewish foundation did not make its appearance here at all. But the majority of Gnostic undertakings may also be viewed as attempts to transform Christianity into a theosophy, that is, into a revealed metaphysic and philosophy of history, with a complete disregard of the Jewish Old Testament soil on which it originated, through the use of Pauline ideas,[306] and under the influence of the Platonic spirit. Moreover, comparison is possible between writers such as Barnabas and Ignatius, and the so-called Gnostics, to the effect of making the latter appear in possession of a completed theory, to which fragmentary ideas in the former exhibit a striking affinity. We have hitherto tacitly presupposed that in Gnosticism the Hellenic spirit desired to make itself master of Christianity, or more correctly of the Christian communities. This conception may be, and really is still contested. For according to the accounts of later opponents, and on these we are almost exclusively dependent here, the main thing with the Gnostics seems to have been the reproduction of Asiatic Mythologoumena of all kinds, so that we should rather have to see in Gnosticism a union of Christianity with the most remote Oriental cults and their wisdom. But with regard to the most important Gnostic systems the words hold true, "The hands are the hands of Esau, but the voice is the voice of Jacob." There can be no doubt of the fact, that the Gnosticism which has become a factor in the movement of the history of dogma, was ruled in the main by the Greek spirit, and determined by the interests and doctrines of the Greek philosophy of religion,[307] which doubtless had already assumed a syncretistic character. This fact is certainly concealed by the circumstance that the material of the speculations was taken now from this, and now from that Oriental religious philosophy, from astrology and the Semitic cosmologies. But that is only in keeping with the stage which the religious development had reached among the Greeks and Romans of that time.[308] The cultured, and these primarily come into consideration here, no longer had a religion in the sense of a national religion, but a philosophy of religion. They were, however, in search of a religion, that is, a firm basis for the results of their speculations, and they hoped to obtain it by turning themselves towards the very old Oriental cults, and seeking to fill them with the religious and moral knowledge which had been gained by the Schools of Plato and of Zeno. The union of the traditions and rites of the Oriental religions, viewed as mysteries, with the spirit of Greek philosophy is the characteristic of the epoch. The needs, which asserted themselves with equal strength, of a complete knowledge of the All, of a spiritual God, a sure, and therefore very old revelation, atonement and immortality, were thus to be satisfied at one and the same time. The most sublimated spiritualism enters here into the strangest union with a crass superstition based on Oriental cults. This superstition was supposed to insure and communicate the spiritual blessings. These complicated tendencies now entered into Christianity. We have accordingly to ascertain and distinguish in the prominent Gnostic schools, which, in the second century on Greek soil, became an important factor in the history of the Church, the Semitic-cosmological foundations, the Hellenic philosophic mode of thought, and the recognition of the redemption of the world by Jesus Christ. Further, we have to take note of the three elements of Gnosticism, viz., the speculative and philosophical, the mystic element connection with worship, and the practical, ascetic. The close connection in which these three elements appear,[309] the total transformation of all ethical into cosmological problems, the upbuilding of a philosophy of God and the world on the basis of a combination of popular Mythologies, physical observations belonging to the Oriental (Babylonian) religious philosophy, and historical events, as well as the idea that the history of religion is the last act in the drama-like history of the Cosmos--all this is not peculiar to Gnosticism, but rather corresponds to a definite stage of the general development. It may, however, be asserted that Gnosticism anticipated the general development, and that not only with regard to Catholicism, but also with regard to Neo-platonism, which represents the last stage in the inner history of Hellenism.[310] The Valentinians have already got as far as Jamblichus. The name Gnosis, Gnostics, describes excellently the aims of Gnosticism, in so far as its adherents boasted of the absolute knowledge, and faith in the Gospel was transformed into a knowledge of God, nature and history. This knowledge, however, was not regarded as natural, but in the view of the Gnostics was based on revelation, was communicated and guaranteed by holy consecrations, and was accordingly cultivated by reflection supported by fancy. A mythology of ideas was created out of the sensuous mythology of any Oriental religion, by the conversion of concrete forms into speculative and moral ideas, such as "Abyss," "Silence," "Logos," "Wisdom," "Life," while the mutual relation and number of these abstract ideas were determined by the data supplied by the corresponding concretes. Thus arose a philosophic dramatic poem, similar to the Platonic, but much more complicated, and therefore more fantastic, in which mighty powers, the spiritual and good, appear in an unholy union with the material and wicked, but from which the spiritual is finally delivered by the aid of those kindred powers which are too exalted to be ever drawn down into the common. The good and heavenly which has been drawn down into the material, and therefore really non-existing, is the human spirit, and the exalted power who delivers it is Christ. The Evangelic history as handed down is not the history of Christ, but a collection of allegoric representations of the great history of God and the world. Christ has really no history. His appearance in this world of mixture and confusion is his deed, and the enlightenment of the spirit about itself is the result which springs out of that deed. This enlightenment itself is life. But the enlightenment is dependent on revelation, asceticism and surrender to those mysteries which Christ founded, in which one enters into communion with a _præsens numen_, and which in mysterious ways promote the process of raising the spirit above the sensual. This rising above the sensual is, however, to be actively practised. Abstinence therefore, as a rule, is the watchword. Christianity thus appears here as a speculative philosophy which redeems the spirit by enlightening it, consecrating it, and instructing it in the right conduct of life. The Gnosis is free from the rationalistic interest in the sense of natural religion. Because the riddles about the world which it desires to solve are not properly intellectual, but practical, because it desires to be in the end [Greek: gnôsis sôtêrías], it removes into the region of the suprarational the powers which are supposed to confer vigour and life on the human spirit. Only a [Greek: mathêsis], however, united with [Greek: mystagogía], resting on revelation, leads thither, not an exact philosophy. Gnosis starts from the great problem of this world, but occupies itself with a higher world, and does not wish to be an exact philosophy, but a philosophy of religion. Its fundamental philosophic doctrines are the following: (1) The indefinable, infinite nature of the Divine primeval Being exalted above all thought. (2) Matter as opposed to the Divine Being, and therefore having no real being, the ground of evil. (3) The fulness of divine potencies, Æons, which are thought of partly as powers, partly as real ideas, partly as relatively independent beings, presenting in gradation the unfolding and revelation of the Godhead, but at the same time rendering possible the transition of the higher to the lower. (4) The Cosmos as a mixture of matter with divine sparks, which has arisen from a descent of the latter into the former, or, as some say, from the perverse, or, at least, merely permitted undertaking of a subordinate spirit. The Demiurge, therefore, is an evil, intermediate, or weak, but penitent being; the best thing therefore in the world is aspiration. (5) The deliverance of the spiritual element from its union with matter, or the separation of the good from the world of sensuality by the Spirit of Christ which operates through knowledge, asceticism, and holy consecration: thus originates the perfect Gnostic, the man who is free from the world, and master of himself, who lives in God and prepares himself for eternity. All these are ideas for which we find the way prepared in the philosophy of the time, anticipated by Philo, and represented in Neoplatonism as the great final result of Greek philosophy. It lies in the nature of the case that only some men are able to appropriate the Christianity that is comprehended in these ideas, viz., just as many as are capable of entering into this kind of Christianity, those who are spiritual. The others must be considered as non-partakers of the Spirit from the beginning, and therefore excluded from knowledge as the _profanum vulgus_. Yet some, the Valentinians, for example, made a distinction in this _vulgus_, which can only be discussed later on, because it is connected with the position of the Gnostics towards Jewish Christian tradition. The later opponents of Gnosticism preferred to bring out the fantastic details of the Gnostic systems, and thereby created the prejudice that the essence of the matter lay in these. They have thus occasioned modern expounders to speculate about the Gnostic speculations in a manner that is marked by still greater strangeness. Four observations shew how unhistorical and unjust such a view is, at least with regard to the chief systems. (1) The great Gnostic schools, wherever they could, sought to spread their opinions. But it is simply incredible that they should have expected of all their disciples, male and female, an accurate knowledge of the details of their system. On the contrary, it may be shewn that they often contented themselves with imparting consecration, with regulating the practical life of their adherents, and instructing them in the general features of their system.[311] (2) We see how in one and the same school, for example, the Valentinian, the details of the religious metaphysic were very various and changing. (3) We hear but little of conflicts between the various schools. On the contrary, we learn that the books of doctrine and edification passed from one school to another.[312] (4) The fragments of Gnostic writings which have been preserved, and this is the most important consideration of the four, shew that the Gnostics devoted their main strength to the working out of those religious, moral, philosophical and historical problems, which must engage the thoughtful of all times.[313] We only need to read some actual Gnostic document, such as the Epistle of Ptolemæus to Flora, or certain paragraphs of the Pistis Sophia, in order to see that the fantastic details of the philosophic poem can only, in the case of the Gnostics themselves, have had the value of liturgical apparatus, the construction of which was not of course a matter of indifference, but hardly formed the principal interest. The things to be proved, and to be confirmed by the aid of this or that very old religious philosophy, were certain religious and moral fundamental convictions, and a correct conception of God, of the sensible, of the creator of the world, of Christ, of the Old Testament, and the evangelic tradition. Here were actual dogmas. But how the grand fantastic union of all the factors was to be brought about, was, as the Valentinian school shews, a problem whose solution was ever and again subjected to new attempts.[314] No one to-day can in all respects distinguish what to those thinkers was image and what reality, or in what degree they were at all able to distinguish image from reality, and in how far the magic formulæ of their mysteries were really objects of their meditation. But the final aim of their endeavours, the faith and knowledge of their own hearts which they instilled into their disciples, the practical rules which they wished to give them, and the view of Christ which they wished to confirm them in, stand out with perfect clearness. Like Plato, they made their explanation of the world start from the contradiction between sense and reason, which the thoughtful man observes in himself. The cheerful asceticism, the powers of the spiritual and the good which were seen in the Christian communities, attracted them and seemed to require the addition of theory to practice. Theory without being followed by practice had long been in existence, but here was the as yet rare phenomenon of a moral practice which seemed to dispense with that which was regarded as indispensable, viz., theory. The philosophic life was already there; how could the philosophic doctrine be wanting, and after what other model could the latent doctrine be reproduced than that of the Greek religious philosophy?[315] That the Hellenic spirit in Gnosticism turned with such eagerness to the Christian communities and was ready even to believe in Christ in order to appropriate the moral powers which it saw operative in them, is a convincing proof of the extraordinary impression which these communities made. For what other peculiarities and attractions had they to offer to that spirit than the certainty of their conviction (of eternal life), and the purity of their life? We hear of no similar edifice being erected in the second century on the basis of any other Oriental cult--even the Mithras cult is scarcely to be mentioned here--as the Gnostic was on the foundation of the Christian.[316] The Christian communities, however, together with their worship of Christ, formed the real solid basis of the greater number and the most important of the Gnostic systems, and in this fact we have, on the very threshold of the great conflict, a triumph of Christianity over Hellenism. The triumph lay in the recognition of what Christianity had already performed as a moral and social power. This recognition found expression in bringing the highest that one possessed as a gift to be consecrated by the new religion, a philosophy of religion whose end was plain and simple, but whose means were mysterious and complicated. § 3. _History of Gnosticism and the forms in which it appeared._ In the previous section we have been contemplating Gnosticism as it reached its prime in the great schools of Basilides and Valentinus, and those related to them,[317] at the close of the period we are now considering, and became an important factor in the history of dogma. But this Gnosticism had (1) preliminary stages, and (2) was always accompanied by a great number of sects, schools and undertakings which were only in part related to it, and yet, reasonably enough, were grouped together with it. To begin with the second point, the great Gnostic schools were flanked on the right and left by a motley series of groups which at their extremities can hardly be distinguished from popular Christianity on the one hand, and from the Hellenic and the common world on the other.[318] On the right were communities such as the Encratites, which put all stress on a strict asceticism, in support of which they urged the example of Christ, but which here and there fell into dualistic ideas.[319] There were further, whole communities which, for decennia, drew their views of Christ from books which represented him as a heavenly spirit who had merely assumed an apparent body.[320] There were also individual teachers who brought forward peculiar opinions without thereby causing any immediate stir in the Churches.[321] On the left there were schools such as the Carpocratians, in which the philosophy and communism of Plato were taught, the son of the founder and second teacher Epiphanes honoured as a God (at Cephallenia), as Epicurus was in his school, and the image of Jesus crowned along with those of Pythagoras, Plato and Aristotle.[322] On this left flank are, further, swindlers who take their own way, like Alexander of Abonoteichus, magicians, soothsayers, sharpers and jugglers, under the sign-board of Christianity, deceivers and hypocrites who appear using mighty words with a host of unintelligible formulæ, and take up with scandalous ceremonies, in order to rob men of their money and women of their honour.[323] All this was afterwards called "Heresy" and "Gnosticism," and is still so called.[324] And these names may be retained, if we will understand by them nothing else than the world taken into Christianity, all the manifold formations which resulted from the first contact of the new religion with the society into which it entered. To prove the existence of that left wing of Gnosticism is of the greatest interest for the history of dogma, but the details are of no consequence. On the other hand, in the aims and undertakings of the Gnostic right, it is just the details that are of greatest significance, because they shew that there was no fixed boundary between what one may call common Christian and Gnostic Christian. But as Gnosticism, in its contents, extended itself from the Encratites and the philosophic interpretation of certain articles of the Christian proclamation, as brought forward without offence by individual teachers in the communities, to the complete dissolution of the Christian element by philosophy, or the religious charlatanry of the age, so it exhibits itself formally also in a long series of groups which comprised all imaginable forms of unions. There were churches, ascetic associations, mystery cults, strictly private philosophic schools,[325] free unions for edification, entertainments by Christian charlatans and deceived deceivers, who appeared as magicians and prophets, attempts at founding new religions after the model and under the influence of the Christian, etc. But, finally, the thesis that Gnosticism is identical with an acute secularising of Christianity, in the widest sense of the word, is confirmed by the study of its own literature. The early Christian production of Gospel and Apocalypses was indeed continued in Gnosticism yet so that the class of "Acts of the Apostles" was added to them, and that didactic, biographic and "belles lettres," elements were received into them, and claimed a very important place. If this makes the Gnostic literature approximate to the profane, that is much more the case with the scientific theological literature which Gnosticism first produced. Dogmatico-philosophic tracts, theologico-critical treatises, historical investigations and scientific commentaries on the sacred books, were, for the first time in Christendom, composed by the Gnostics, who in part occupied the foremost place in the scientific knowledge, religious earnestness and ardour of the age. They form, in every respect, the counterpart to the scientific works which proceeded from the contemporary philosophic schools. Moreover, we possess sufficient knowledge of Gnostic hymns and odes, songs for public worship, didactic poems, magic formulæ, magic books, etc., to assure us that Christian Gnosticism took possession of a whole region of the secular life in its full breadth, and thereby often transformed the original forms of Christian literature into secular.[326] If, however, we bear in mind how all this at a later period was gradually legitimised in the Catholic Church, philosophy, the science of the sacred books, criticism and exegesis, the ascetic associations, the theological schools, the mysteries, the sacred formulæ, the superstition, the charlatanism, all kinds of profane literature, etc., it seems to prove the thesis that the victorious epoch of the gradual hellenising of Christianity followed the abortive attempts at an acute hellenising. The traditional question as to the origin and development of Gnosticism, as well as that about the classification of the Gnostic systems, will have to be modified in accordance with the foregoing discussion. As the different Gnostic systems might be contemporary, and in part were undoubtedly contemporary, and as a graduated relation holds good only between some few groups, we must, in the classification, limit ourselves essentially to the features which have been specified in the foregoing paragraph, and which coincide with the position of the different groups to the early Christian tradition in its connection with the Old Testament religion, both as a rule of practical life, and of the common cultus.[327] As to the origin of Gnosticism, we see how, even in the earliest period, all possible ideas and principles foreign to Christianity force their way into it, that is, are brought in under Christian rules, and find entrance, especially in the consideration of the Old Testament.[328] We might be satisfied with the observation that the manifold Gnostic systems were produced by the increase of this tendency. In point of fact we must admit that in the present state of our sources, we can reach no sure knowledge beyond that. These sources, however, give certain indications which should not be left unnoticed. If we leave out of account the two assertions of opponents, that Gnosticism was produced by demons[329] and--this, however, was said at a comparatively late period--that it originated in ambition and resistance to the ecclesiastical office, the episcopate, we find in Hegesippus, one of the earliest writers on the subject, the statement that the whole of the heretical schools sprang out of Judaism or the Jewish sects; in the later writers, Irenæus, Tertullian and Hippolytus, that these schools owe most to the doctrines of Pythagoras, Plato, Aristotle, Zeno, etc.[330] But they all agree in this, that a definite personality, viz., Simon the Magician, must be regarded as the original source of the heresy. If we try it by these statements of the Church Fathers, we must see at once that the problem in this case is limited--certainly in a proper way. For after Gnosticism is seen to be the acute secularising of Christianity the only question that remains is, how are we to account for the origin of the great Gnostic schools, that is, whether it is possible to indicate their preliminary stages. The following may be asserted here with some confidence: Long before the appearance of Christianity, combinations of religion had taken place in Syria and Palestine,[331] especially in Samaria, in so far, on the one hand, as the Assyrian and Babylonian religious philosophy, together with its myths, as well as the Greek popular religion, with its manifold interpretations, had penetrated as far as the eastern shore of the Mediterranean, and been accepted even by the Jews, and, on the other hand, the Jewish Messianic idea had spread and called forth various movements.[332] The result of every mixing of national religions, however, is to break through the traditional, legal and particular forms.[333] For the Jewish religion syncretism signified the shaking of the authority of the Old Testament by a qualitative distinction of its different parts, as also doubt as to the identity of the supreme God with the national God. These ferments were once more set in motion by Christianity. We know that in the Apostolic age there were attempts in Samaria to found new religions, which were in all probability influenced by the tradition and preaching concerning Jesus. Dositheus, Simon Magus, Cleobius, and Menander appeared as Messiahs or bearers of the Godhead, and proclaimed a doctrine in which the Jewish faith was strangely and grotesquely mixed with Babylonian myths, together with some Greek additions. The mysterious worship, the breaking up of Jewish particularism, the criticism of the Old Testament, which for long had had great difficulty in retaining its authority in many circles, in consequence of the widened horizon and the deepening of religious feeling, finally, the wild syncretism, whose aim, however, was a universal religion, all contributed to gain adherents for Simon.[334] His enterprise appeared to the Christians as a diabolical caricature of their own religion, and the impression made by the success which Simonianism gained by a vigorous propaganda even beyond Palestine into the West, supported this idea.[335] We can therefore understand how, afterwards, all heresies were traced back to Simon. To this must be added that we can actually trace in many Gnostic systems the same elements which were prominent in the religion proclaimed by Simon (the Babylonian and Syrian), and that the new religion of the Simonians, just like Christianity, had afterwards to submit to be transformed into a philosophic, scholastic doctrine.[336] The formal parallel to the Gnostic doctrines was therewith established. But even apart from these attempts at founding new religions, Christianity in Syria, under the influence of foreign religions and speculation on the philosophy of religion, gave a powerful impulse to the criticism of the law and the prophets which had already been awakened. In consequence of this, there appeared, about the transition of the first century to the second, a series of teachers, who, under the impression of the Gospel, sought to make the Old Testament capable of furthering the tendency to a universal religion, not by allegorical interpretation, but by a sifting criticism. These attempts were of very different kinds. Teachers such as Cerinthus, clung to the notion that the universal religion revealed by Christ was identical with undefined Mosaism, and therefore maintained even such articles as circumcision and the Sabbath commandment, as well as the earthly kingdom of the future. But they rejected certain parts of the law, especially, as a rule, the sacrificial precepts, which were no longer in keeping with the spiritual conception of religion. They conceived the creator of the world as a subordinate being distinct from the supreme God, which is always the mark of a syncretism with a dualistic tendency; introduced speculations about Æons and angelic powers, among whom they placed Christ, and recommended a strict asceticism. When, in their Christology, they denied the miraculous birth, and saw in Jesus a chosen man on whom the Christ, that is, the Holy Spirit, descended at the baptism, they were not creating any innovation, but only following the earliest Palestinian tradition. Their rejection of the authority of Paul is explained by their efforts to secure the Old Testament as far as possible for the universal religion.[337] There were others who rejected all ceremonial commandments as proceeding from the devil, or from some intermediate being, but yet always held firmly that the God of the Jews was the supreme God. But alongside of these stood also decidedly anti-Jewish groups, who seem to have been influenced in part by the preaching of Paul. They advanced much further in the criticism of the Old Testament and perceived the impossibility of saving it for the Christian universal religion. They rather connected this religion with the cultus-wisdom of Babylon and Syria, which seemed more adapted for allegorical interpretations, and opposed this formation to the Old Testament religion. The God of the Old Testament appears here at best as a subordinate Angel of limited power, wisdom and goodness. In so far as he was identified with the creator of the world, and the creation of the world itself was regarded as an imperfect or an abortive undertaking, expression was given both to the anti-Judaism and to that religious temper of the time, which could only value spiritual blessing in contrast with the world and the sensuous. These systems appeared more or less strictly dualistic, in proportion as they did or did not accept a slight co-operation of the supreme God in the creation of man; and the way in which the character and power of the world-creating God of the Jews was conceived, serves as a measure of how far the several schools were from the Jewish religion and the Monism that ruled it. All possible conceptions of the God of the Jews, from the assumption that he is a being supported in his undertakings by the supreme God, to his identification with Satan, seem to have been exhausted in these schools. Accordingly, in the former case, the Old Testament was regarded as the revelation of a subordinate God, in the latter as the manifestation of Satan, and therefore the ethic--with occasional use of Pauline formula--always assumed an antinomian form, compared with the Jewish law, in some cases antinomian even in the sense of libertinism. Correspondingly, the anthropology exhibits man as bipartite, or even tripartite, and the Christology is strictly docetic and anti-Jewish. The redemption by Christ is always, as a matter of course, related only to that element in humanity which has an affinity with the Godhead.[338] It is uncertain whether we should think of the spread of these doctrines in Syria in the form of a school, or of a cultus; probably it was both. From the great Gnostic systems as formed by Basilides and Valentinus they are distinguished by the fact, that they lack the peculiar philosophic, that is Hellenic element, the speculative conversion of angels and Æons into real ideas, etc. We have almost no knowledge of their effect. This Gnosticism has never directly been a historical factor of striking importance, and the great question is whether it was so indirectly.[339] That is to say, we do not know whether this Syrian Gnosticism was, in the strict sense, the preparatory stage of the great Gnostic schools, so that these schools should be regarded as an actual reconstruction of it. But there can be no doubt that the appearance of the great Gnostic schools in the Empire, from Egypt to Gaul, is contemporaneous with the vigorous projection of Syrian cults westwards, and therefore the assumption is suggested, that the Syrian Christian syncretism was also spread in connection with that projection, and underwent a change corresponding to the new conditions. We know definitely that the Syrian Gnostic, Cerdo, came to Rome, wrought there, and exercised an influence on Marcion. But no less probable is the assumption that the great Hellenic Gnostic schools arose spontaneously, in the sense of having been independently developed out of the elements to which undoubtedly the Asiatic cults also belonged, without being influenced in any way by Syrian syncretistic efforts. The conditions for the growth of such formations were nearly the same in all parts of the Empire. The great advance lies in the fact that the religious material as contained in the Gospel, the Old Testament, and the wisdom connected with the old cults, was philosophically, that is, scientifically, manipulated by means of allegory, and the aggregate of mythological powers translated into an aggregate of ideas. The Pythagorean and Platonic, more rarely the Stoic philosophy, were compelled to do service here. Great Gnostic schools, which were at the same time unions for worship, first enter into the clear light of history in this form, (see previous section), and on the conflict with these, surrounded as they were by a multitude of dissimilar and related formations, depends the progress of the development.[340] We are no longer able to form a perfectly clear picture of how these schools came into being, or how they were related to the Churches. It lay in the nature of the case that the heads of the schools, like the early itinerant heretical teachers, devoted attention chiefly, if not exclusively, to those who were already Christian, that is, to the Christian communities.[341] From the Ignatian Epistles, the Shepherd of Hermas (Vis. III. 7. 1; Sim. VIII. 6. 5; IX. 19. and especially 22) and the Didache (XI. 1. 2) we see that those teachers who boasted of a special knowledge, and sought to introduce "strange" doctrines, aimed at gaining the entire churches. The beginning, as a rule, was necessarily the formation of conventicles. In the first period therefore, when there was no really fixed standard for warding off the foreign doctrines--Hermas is unable even to characterise the false doctrines--the warnings were commonly exhausted in the exhortation: [Greek: kollasthe tois hagiois, hoti hoi kollômenoi autois hagiasthêsontai] ["connect yourselves with the saints, because those who are connected with them shall be sanctified"]. As a rule, the doctrines may really have crept in unobserved, and those gained over to them may for long have taken part in a two-fold worship, the public worship of the churches, and the new consecration. Those teachers must of course have assumed a more aggressive attitude who rejected the Old Testament. The attitude of the Church, when it enjoyed competent guidance, was one of decided opposition towards unmasked or recognised false teachers. Yet Irenæus' account of Cerdo in Rome shews us how difficult it was at the beginning to get rid of a false teacher.[342] For Justin, about the year 150, the Marcionites, Valentinians, Basilideans and Saturninians, are groups outside the communities, and undeserving of the name "Christians."[343] There must therefore have been at that time, in Rome and Asia Minor at least, a really perfect separation of those schools from the Churches (it was different in Alexandria). Notwithstanding, this continued to be the region from which those schools obtained their adherents. For the Valentinians recognised that the common Christians were much better than the heathen, that they occupied a middle position between the "pneumatic" and the "hylic", and might look forward to a kind of salvation. This admission, as well as their conforming to the common Christian tradition, enabled them to spread their views in a remarkable way, and they may not have had any objection in many cases, to their converts remaining in the great Church. But can this community have perceived everywhere and at once, that the Valentinian distinction of "psychic" and "pneumatic" is not identical with the scriptural distinction of children and men in understanding? Where the organisation of the school (the union for worship) required a long time of probation, where degrees of connection with it were distinguished, and a strict asceticism demanded of the perfect, it followed of course that those on the lower stage should not be urged to a speedy break with the Church.[344] But after the creation of the catholic confederation of churches, existence was made more and more difficult for these schools. Some of them lived on somewhat like our freemason-unions, some, as in the East, became actual sects (confessions), in which the wise and the simple now found a place, as they were propagated by families. In both cases they ceased to be what they had been at the beginning. From about 210, they ceased to be a factor of the historical development, though the Church of Constantine and Theodosius was alone really able to suppress them. 4. _The most important Gnostic Doctrines._ We have still to measure and compare with the earliest tradition those Gnostic doctrines which, partly at once and partly in the following period, became important. Once more, however, we must expressly refer to the fact, that the epoch-making significance of Gnosticism for the history of dogma, must not be sought chiefly in the particular doctrines, but rather in the whole way in which Christianity is here conceived and transformed. The decisive thing is the conversion of the Gospel into a doctrine, into an absolute philosophy of religion, the transforming of the _disciplina Evangelii_ into an asceticism based on a dualistic conception, and into a practice of mysteries.[345] We have now briefly to shew, with due regard to the earliest tradition, how far this transformation was of positive or negative significance for the following period, that is, in what respects the following development was anticipated by Gnosticism, and in what respects Gnosticism was disavowed by this development.[346] (1) Christianity, which is the only true and absolute religion, embraces a revealed system of doctrine (positive). (2) This doctrine contains mysterious powers, which are communicated to men by initiation (mysteries). (3) The revealer is Christ (positive), but Christ alone, and only in his historical appearance--no Old Testament Christ (negative); this appearance is itself redemption: the doctrine is the announcement of it and of its presuppositions (positive).[347] (4) Christian doctrine is to be drawn from the Apostolic tradition, critically examined. This tradition lies before us in a series of Apostolic writings, and in a secret doctrine derived from the Apostles, (positive).[348] As exoteric it is comprehended in the _regula fidei_ (positive),[349] as esoteric it is propagated by chosen teachers.[350] (5) The documents of revelation (Apostolic writings), just because they are such, must be interpreted by means of allegory, that is, their deeper meaning must be extracted in this way (positive).[351] (6) The following may be noted as the main points in the Gnostic conception of the several parts of the _regula fidei_. (a) The difference between the supreme God and the creator of the world, and therewith the opposing of redemption and creation, and therefore the separation of the Mediator of revelation from the Mediator of creation.[352] (b) The separation of the supreme God from the God of the Old Testament, and therewith the rejection of the Old Testament, or the assertion that the Old Testament contains no revelations of the supreme God, or at least only in certain parts.[353] (c) The doctrine of the independence and eternity of matter. (d) The assertion that the present world sprang from a fall of man, or from an undertaking hostile to God, and is therefore the product of an evil or intermediate being.[354] (e) The doctrine, that evil is inherent in matter, and therefore is a physical potence.[355] (f) The assumption of Æons, that is, real powers and heavenly persons in whom is unfolded the absoluteness of the Godhead.[356] (g) The assertion that Christ revealed a God hitherto unknown. (h) The doctrine that in the person of Jesus Christ--the Gnostics saw in it redemption, but they reduced the person to the physical nature--the heavenly Æon, Christ, and the human appearance of that Æon must be clearly distinguished, and a "distincte agere" ascribed to each. Accordingly, there were some, such as Basilides, who acknowledged no real union between Christ and the man Jesus, whom, besides, they regarded as an earthly man. Others, e.g., part of the Valentinians, among whom the greatest differences prevailed--see Tertull. adv. Valent. 39--taught that the body of Jesus was a heavenly psychical formation, and sprang from the womb of Mary only in appearance. Finally, a third party, such as Saturninus, declared that the whole visible appearance of Christ was a phantom, and therefore denied the birth of Christ.[357] Christ separates that which is unnaturally united, and thus leads everything back again to himself; in this redemption consists (full contrast to the notion of the [Greek: anakephalaiôsis]). (i) The conversion of the [Greek: ekklêsia] (it was no innovation to regard the heavenly Church as an Æon) into the college of the pneumatic, who alone, in virtue of their psychological endowment, are capable of Gnosis and the divine life, while the others, likewise in virtue of their constitution, as hylic perish. The Valentinians, and probably many other Gnostics also, distinguished between pneumatic, psychic and hylic. They regarded the psychic as capable of a certain blessedness, and of a corresponding certain knowledge of the supersensible, the latter being obtained through Pistis, that is, through Christian faith.[358] (k) The rejection of the entire early Christian eschatology, especially the second coming of Christ, the resurrection of the body, and Christ's Kingdom of glory on the earth, and, in connection with this, the assertion that the deliverance of the spirit from the sensuous can be expected only from the future, while the spirit enlightened about itself already possesses immortality, and only awaits its introduction into the pneumatic pleroma.[359] In addition to what has been mentioned here, we must finally fix our attention on the ethics of Gnosticism. Like the ethics of all systems which are based on the contrast between the sensuous and spiritual elements of human nature, that of the Gnostics took a twofold direction. On the one hand, it sought to suppress and uproot the sensuous, and thus became strictly ascetic (imitation of Christ as motive of asceticism;[360] Christ and the Apostles represented as ascetics);[361] on the other hand, it treated the sensuous element as indifferent, and so became libertine, that is, conformed to the world. The former was undoubtedly the more common, though there are credible witnesses to the latter; the _frequentissimum collegium_ in particular, the Valentinians, in the days of Irenæus and Tertullian, did not vigorously enough prohibit a lax and world-conforming morality;[362] and among the Syrian and Egyptian Gnostics there were associations which celebrated the most revolting orgies.[363] As the early Christian tradition summoned to a strict renunciation of the world and to self-control, the Gnostic asceticism could not but make an impression at the first; but the dualistic basis on which it rested could not fail to excite suspicion as soon as one was capable of examining it.[364] _Literature._--The writings of Justin (his syntagma against heresies has not been preserved), Irenæus, Tertullian, Hippolytus, Clement of Alexandria, Origen, Epiphanius, Philastrius and Theodoret; cf. Volkmar, Die Quellen der Ketzergeschichte, 1885. Lipsius, Zur Quellenkritik des Epiphanios, 1875; also Die Quellen der ältesten Ketzergeschichte, 1875. Harnack, Zur Quellenkritik d. Gesch. d. Gnostic, 1873 (continued i. D. Ztschr. f. d. hist. Theol. 1874, and in Der Schrift de Apellis gnosi monarch. 1874). Of Gnostic writings we possess the book Pistis Sophia, the writings contained in the Coptic Cod. Brucianus, and the Epistle of Ptolemy to Flora; also numerous fragments, in connection with which Hilgenfeld especially deserves thanks, but which still require a more complete selecting and a more thorough discussion (see Grabe, Spicilegium T. I. II. 1700. Heinrici, Die Valentin. Gnosis, u. d. H. Schrift, 1871). On the (Gnostic) Apocryphal Acts of the Apostles, see Zahn, Acta Joh. 1880, and the great work of Lipsius, Die apokryphen Apostelgeschichten, I. Vol., 1883; II. Vol., 1887. (See also Lipsius, Quellen d. röm. Petrussage, 1872). Neander, Genet. Entw. d. vornehmsten gnostischen Systeme, 1818. Matter, Hist. crit. du gnosticisme, 2 Vols., 1828. Baur, Die Christl. Gnosis, 1835. Lipsius, Der Gnosticismus, in Ersch. und Gruber's Allg. Encykl. 71 Bd. 1860. Moeller, Geschichte d. Kosmologie i. d. Griech. K. his auf Origenes. 1860. King, The Gnostics and their remains, 1873. Mansel, The Gnostic heresies, 1875. Jacobi, Art. "Gnosis" in Herzog's Real Encykl. 2nd Edit. Hilgenfeld, Die Ketzergeschichte des Urchristenthums, 1884, where the more recent, special literature concerning individual Gnostics is quoted. Lipsius, Art. "Valentinus" in Smith's Dictionary of Christian Biography. Harnack, Art. "Valentinus" in the Encycl. Brit. Harnack, Pistis Sophia in the Texte und Unters. VII. 2. Carl Schmidt, Gnostische Schriften in koptischer Sprache aus dem Codex Brucianus (Texte und Unters. VIII. 1. 2). Joël, Blicke in die Religionsgeschichte zu Anfang des 2 Christl. Jahrhunderts, 2 parts, 1880, 1883. Renan, History of the Origins of Christianity. Vols. V. VI. VII. [Footnote 300: We may consider here once more the articles which are embraced in the first ten chapters of the recently discovered [Greek: Didachê tôn apostolôn], after enumerating and describing which, the author continues (II. 1): [Greek: hos an oun elthôn didachêi umas tauta panta ta proeirêmena, dexasthe auton].] [Footnote 301: It is a good tradition, which designates the so-called Gnosticism, simply as Gnosis, and yet uses this word also for the speculations of non-Gnostic teachers of antiquity (e.g., of Barnabas). But the inferences which follow have not been drawn. Origen says truly (c. Celsus III. 12) "As men, not only the labouring and serving classes, but also many from the cultured classes of Greece, came to see something honourable in Christianity, sects could not fail to arise, not simply from the desire for controversy and contradiction, but because several scholars endeavoured to penetrate deeper into the truth of Christianity. In this way sects arose, which received their names from men who indeed admired Christianity in its essence, but from many different causes had arrived at different conceptions of it."] [Footnote 302: The majority of Christians in the second century belonged no doubt to the uncultured classes, and did not seek abstract knowledge, nay, were distrustful of it; see the [Greek: logos alêthês] of Celsus, especially III. 44, and the writings of the Apologists. Yet we may infer from the treatise of Origen against Celsus that the number of "Christiani rudes" who cut themselves off from theological and philosophic knowledge, was about the year 240 a very large one; and Tertullian says (Adv. Prax. 3): "Simplices quique, ne dixerim imprudentes et idiotæ, quæ major semper credentium pars est," cf. de jejun. 11: "Major pars imperitorum apud gloriosissimam multitudinem psychicorum."] [Footnote 303: Overbeck (Stud. z. Gesch. d. alten Kirche. p. 184) has the merit of having first given convincing expression to this view of Gnosticism.] [Footnote 304: The ability of the prominent Gnostic teachers has been recognised by the Church Fathers: see Hieron. Comm in Osee. II. 10, Opp. VI. i: "Nullus potest haeresim struere, nisi qui ardens ingenii est et habet dona naturæ quæ a deo artifice sunt creata: talis fuit Valentinus, tails Marcion, quos doctissimos legimus, talis Bardesanes, cujus etiam philosophi admirantur ingenium." It is still more important to see how the Alexandrian theologians (Clement and Origen) estimated the exegetic labours of the Gnostics, and took account of them. Origen undoubtedly recognised Herakleon as a prominent exegete, and treats him most respectfully even where he feels compelled to differ from him. All Gnostics cannot, of course, be regarded as theologians. In their totality they form the Greek society with a Christian name.] [Footnote 305: Otherwise the rise of Gnosticism cannot at all be explained.] [Footnote 306: Cf. Bigg, "The Christian Platonists of Alexandria," p. 83: "Gnosticism was in one respect distorted Paulinism."] [Footnote 307: Joel, "Blick in die Religionsgesch." Vol. I. pp. 101-170, has justly emphasised the Greek character of Gnosis, and insisted on the significance of Platonism for it. "The Oriental element did not always in the case of the Gnostics, originate at first hand, but had already passed through a Greek channel."] [Footnote 308: The age of the Antonines was the flourishing period of Gnosticism. Marquardt (Römische Staatsverwaltung Vol. 3, p. 81) says of this age: "With the Antonines begins the last period of the Roman religious development in which two new elements enter into it. These are the Syrian and Persian deities, whose worship at this time was prevalent not only in the city of Rome, but in the whole empire, and, at the same time, Christianity, which entered into conflict with all ancient tradition, and in this conflict exercised a certain influence even on the Oriental forms of worship."] [Footnote 309: It is a special merit of Weingarten (Histor. Ztschr. Bd 45. 1881. p. 441 f.) and Koffmane (Die Gnosis nach ihrer Tendenz und Organisation, 1881) to have strongly emphasised the mystery character of Gnosis, and in connection with that, its practical aims. Koffmane, especially, has collected abundant material for proving that the tendency of the Gnostics was the same as that of the ancient mysteries, and that they thence borrowed their organisation and discipline. This fact proves the proposition that Gnosticism was an acute hellenising of Christianity. Koffmane has, however, undervalued the union of the practical and speculative tendency in the Gnostics, and, in the effort to obtain recognition for the mystery character of the Gnostic communities, has overlooked the fact that they were also schools. The union of mystery-cultus and school is just, however, their characteristic. In this also they prove themselves the forerunners of Neoplatonism and the Catholic Church. Moehler in his programme of 1831 (Urspr. d. Gnosticismus Tubingen), vigorously emphasised the practical tendency of Gnosticism, though not in a convincing way. Hackenschmidt (Anfange des katholischen Kirchenbegriffs, p. 83 f.) has judged correctly.] [Footnote 310: We have also evidence of the methods by which ecstatic visions were obtained among the Gnostics, see the Pistis Sophia, and the important rôle which prophets and Apocalypses played in several important Gnostic communities (Barcoph and Barcabbas, prophets of the Basilideans; Martiades and Marsanes among the Ophites; Philumene in the case of Apelles; Valentinian prophecies, Apocalypses of Zostrian, Zoroaster, etc.) Apocalypses were also used by some under the names of Old Testament men of God and Apostles.] [Footnote 311: See Koftmane, before-mentioned work, p. 5 f.] [Footnote 312: See Fragm. Murat. V. 81 f.; Clem. Strom. VII. 17. 108; Orig. Hom. 34. The Marcionite Antitheses were probably spread among other Gnostic sects. The Fathers frequently emphasise the fact that the Gnostics were united against the church: Tertullian de præscr 42: "Et hoc est, quod schismata apud hæreticos fere non sunt, quia cum sint, non parent. Schisma est enim unitas ipsa." They certainly also delight in emphasising the contradictions of the different schools; but they cannot point to any earnest conflict of these schools with each other. We know definitely that Bardasanes argued against the earlier Gnostics, and Ptolemæus against Marcion.] [Footnote 313: See the collection, certainly not complete, of Gnostic fragments by Grabe (Spicileg.) and Hilgenfeld (Ketzergeschichte). Our books on the history of Gnosticism take far too little notice of these fragments as presented to us, above all, by Clement and Origen, and prefer to keep to the doleful accounts of the Fathers about the "Systems", (better in Heinrici: Valent. Gnosis, 1871). The vigorous efforts of the Gnostics to understand the Pauline and Johannine ideas, and their in part surprisingly rational and ingenious solutions of intellectual problems, have never yet been systematically estimated. Who would guess, for example, from what is currently known of the system of Basilides, that, according to Clement, the following proceeds from him, (Strom. IV. 12. 18): [Greek: hôs autos phêsin ho Basileidês, en meros ek tou legomenou thelêmatos tou theou hupeilêphamen, to êgapêkenai hapanta. hoti logon aposôzousi pros to pan hapanta; heteron de to mêdenos epithumein, kai to triton misein mêde hen], and where do we find, in the period before Clement of Alexandria, faith in Christ united with such spiritual maturity and inner freedom as in Valentinians, Ptolemæus and Heracleon?] [Footnote 314: Testament of Tertullian (adv. Valent. 4) shews the difference between the solution of Valentinus, for example, and his disciple Ptolemæus. "Ptolemæus nomina et numeros Æonum distinxit in personales substantias, sed extra deum determinatas, quas Valentinus in ipsa summa divinitatis ut sensus et affectus motus incluserat." It is, moreover, important that Tertullian himself should distinguish this so clearly.] [Footnote 315: There is nothing here more instructive than to hear the judgments of the cultured Greeks and Romans about Christianity, as soon as they have given up the current gross prejudices. They shew with admirable clearness, the way in which Gnosticism originated. Galen says (quoted by Gieseler, Church Hist. 1. 1. 41): "Hominum plerique orationem demonstrativam continuam mente assequi nequeunt, quare indigent, ut instituantur parabolis. Veluti nostro tempore videmus, homines illos, qui Christian! vocantur, fidem suam e parabolis petiisse. Hi tamen interdum talia faciunt, qualia qui vere philosophantur. Nam quod mortem contemnunt, id quidem omnes ante oculos habemus; item quod verecundia quadam ducti ab usu rerum venerearum abhorrent. Sunt enim inter eos feminæ et viri, qui per totam vitam a concubitu abstinuerint; sunt etiam qui in animis regendis coërcendisque et in accerrimo honestatis studio eo progressi sint, ut nihil cedant vere philosophantibus." Christians, therefore, are philosophers without philosophy. What a challenge for them to produce such, that is to seek out the latent philosophy! Even Celsus could not but admit a certain relationship between Christians and philosophers. But as he was convinced that the miserable religion of the Christians could neither include nor endure a philosophy, he declared that the moral doctrines of the Christians were borrowed from the philosophers (I. 4). In course of his presentation (V. 65; VI. 12. 15-19, 42; VII. 27-35) he deduces the most decided marks of Christianity, as well as the most important sayings of Jesus from (misunderstood) statements of Plato and other Greek philosophers. This is not the place to shew the contradictions in which Celsus was involved by this. But it is of the greatest significance that even this intelligent man could only see philosophy where he saw something precious. The whole of Christianity from its very origin appeared to Celsus (in one respect) precisely as the Gnostic systems appear to us, that is, these really are what Christianity as such seemed to Celsus to be. Besides, it was constantly asserted up to the fifth century that Christ had drawn from Plato's writings. Against those who made this assertion, Ambrosius (according to Augustine, Ep. 31. c. 8) wrote a treatise which unfortunately is no longer in existence.] [Footnote 316: The Simonian system at most might be named, on the basis of the syncretistic religion founded by Simon Magus. But we know little about it, and that little is uncertain. Parallel attempts are demonstrable in the third century on the basis of various "revealed" fundamental ideas ([Greek: hê ek logíôn philosophia]).] [Footnote 317: Among these I reckon those Gnostics whom Irenæus (I. 29-31) has portrayed, as well as part of the so-called Ophites, Peratæ, Sethites and the school of the Gnostic Justin (Hippol. Philosoph. V. 6-28). There is no reason for regarding them as earlier or more Oriental than the Valentinians, as is done by Hilgenfeld against Baur, Möller, and Gruber (the Ophites, 1864). See also Lipsius, "Ophit. Systeme", i. d. Ztschr. f. wiss. Theol. 1863. IV, 1864, I. These schools claimed for themselves the name Gnostic (Hippol. Philosoph. V. 6). A part of them, as is specially apparent from Orig. c. Celsum. VI., is not to be reckoned Christian. This motley group is but badly known to us through Epiphanius, much better through the original Gnostic writings preserved in the Coptic language. (Pistis Sophia and the works published by Carl Schmidt Texte u. Unters. Bd. VIII.). Yet these original writings belong, for the most part, to the second half of the third century (see also the important statements of Porphyry in the Vita Plotini, c. 16), and shew a Gnosticism burdened with an abundance of wild speculations, formulæ, mysteries, and ceremonial. However, from these very monuments it becomes plain that Gnosticism anticipated Catholicism as a ritual system (see below).] [Footnote 318: On Marcion, see the following Chapter.] [Footnote 319: We know that from the earliest period (perhaps we might refer even to the Epistle to the Romans) there were circles of ascetics in the Christian communities who required of all, as an inviolable law, under the name of Christian perfection, complete abstinence from marriage, renunciation of possessions, and a vegetarian diet. (Clem. Strom. III. 6. 49: [Greek: hupo diabolou tautên paradidosthai dogmatizousi, mimeisthai d' autous hoi megalanchoi phasi ton kurion mête gêmanta, mête ti en tôi kosmôi ktêsamenon, mallon para allous nenoêkenai to euangelion kauchomenoi].--Here then, already, imitation of the poor life of Jesus, the "Evangelic" life, was the watchword. Tatian wrote a book, [Greek: peri tou kata ton sôtêra katartismou], that is, on perfection according to the Redeemer: in which he set forth the irreconcilability of the worldly life with the Gospel). No doubt now existed in the Churches that abstinence from marriage, from wine and flesh, and from possessions, was the perfect fulfilling of the law of Christ ([Greek: bastazein holon ton zugon tou kuriou]). But in wide circles strict abstinence was deduced from a special charism, all boastfulness was forbidden, and the watchword given out: [Greek: hoson dunasai hagneuseis], which may be understood as a compromise with the worldly life as well as a reminiscence of a freer morality (see my notes on Didache, c. 6; 11, 11 and Prolegg. p. 42 ff.). Still, the position towards asceticism yielded a hard problem, the solution of which was more and more found in distinguishing a higher and a lower though sufficient morality, yet repudiating the higher morality as soon as it claimed to be the alone authoritative one. On the other hand, there were societies of Christian ascetics who persisted in applying literally to all Christians the highest demands of Christ, and thus arose, by secession, the communities of the Encratites and Severians. But in the circumstances of the time even they could not but be touched by the Hellenic mode of thought, to the effect of associating a speculative theory with asceticism, and thus approximating to Gnosticism. This is specially plain in Tatian, who connected himself with the Encratites, and in consequence of the severe asceticism which he prescribed, could no longer maintain the identity of the supreme God and the creator of the world (see the fragments of his later writings in the Corp. Apol. ed Otto. T. VI.). As the Pauline Epistles could furnish arguments to either side, we see some Gnostics such as Tatian himself, making diligent use of them, while others such as the Severians, rejected them. (Euseb. H. E. IV. 29. 5, and Orig. c. Cels. V. 65). The Encratite controversy was, on the one hand, swallowed up by the Gnostic, and on the other hand, replaced by the Montanistic. The treatise written in the days of Marcus Aurelius by a certain Musanus (where?) which contains warnings against joining the Encratites (Euseb. H. E. IV. 28) we unfortunately no longer possess.] [Footnote 320: See Eusebius, H. E. VI. 12. Docetic elements are apparent even in the fragment of the Gospel of Peter recently discovered.] [Footnote 321: Here, above all, we have to remember Tatian, who in his highly praised Apology, had already rejected altogether the eating of flesh (c. 23) and set up very peculiar doctrines about the spirit, matter, and the nature of man (c. 12 ff.). The fragments of the Hypotyposes of Clem. of Alex. show how much one had to bear in some rural Churches at the end of the second century.] [Footnote 322: See Clem. Strom III. 2. 5; [Greek: Epiphanês, huios Karpokratous, ezêse ta panta etê heptakaideka kai theos en Samêi tês Kephallênias tetimêtai, entha autôi hieron rutôn lithôn, bômoi, temenê, mouseion, ôikodomêtai te kai kathierôtai, kai suniontes eis to hieron hoi Kaphallênes kata noumênian genethlion apotheôsin thuousin Epiphanei, spendousi te kai euôchountai kai humnoi legontai]. Clement's quotations from the writings of Epiphanes shew him to be a pure Platonist: the proposition that property is theft is found in him. Epiphanes and his father, Carpocrates, were the first who attempted to amalgamate Plato's State with the Christian ideal of the union of men with each other. Christ was to them, therefore, a philosophic Genius like Plato, see Irenæus I. 25. 5: "Gnosticos autem se vocant, etiam imagines, quasdam quidem depictas, quasdam autem et de reliqua materia fabricatas habent..... et has coronant, et proponent eas cum imaginibus mundi philosophorum, videlicet cum imagine Pythagoræ et Platonis et Aristotelis et reliquorum, et reliquam observationem circa eas similiter ut gentes faciunt."] [Footnote 323: See the "Gnostics" of Hermas, especially the false prophet whom he portrays, Mand. XI., Lucian's Peregrinus, and the Marcus, of whose doings Irenæus (I. 13. ff.) gives such an abominable picture. To understand how such people were able to obtain a following so quickly in the Churches, we must remember the respect in which the "prophets" were held (see Didache XI.). If one had once given the impression that he had the Spirit, he could win belief for the strangest things, and could allow himself all things possible (see the delineations of Celsus in Orig. c. Cels. VII. 9. 11). We hear frequently of Gnostic prophets and prophetesses, see my notes on Herm. Mand. XI. 1 and Didache XI. 7. If an early Christian element is here preserved by the Gnostic schools, it has undoubtedly been hellenised and secularised as the reports shew. But that the prophets altogether were in danger of being secularised is shewn in Didache XI. In the case of the Gnostics the process is again only hastened.] [Footnote 324: The name Gnostic originally attached to schools which had so named themselves. To these belonged, above all, the so-called Ophites, but not the Valentinians or Basilideans.] [Footnote 325: Special attention should be given to this form, as it became in later times of the very greatest importance for the general development of doctrine in the Church. The sect of Carpocrates was a school. Of Tatian Irenæus says (I. 28. 1): [Greek: Tatianos Ioustinou acroatês gegonais ... meta de tên ekeinou marturian apostas tês ekklêsias, oiêmati didaskalon epartheis ... idion charaktêr didaskaleiou sunestêsato]. Rhodon (in Euseb. H. E. V. 13. 4) speaks of a Marcionite [Greek: didaskaleion]. Other names were, "Collegium" (Tertull. ad Valen 1), "Secta", the word had not always a bad meaning, [Greek: hairesis, ekklêsia] (Clem. Strom. VII. 16. 98, on the other hand, VII. 15. 92: Tertull. de præscr. 42: plerique nec Ecclesias habent), [Greek: thiasos] (Iren. I. 13. 4, for the Marcosians). [Greek: sunagôgê, sustêma, diatribê, hai athrôpinai sunêluseis], factiuncula, congregatio, conciliabulum, conventiculum. The mystery-organisation most clearly appears in the Naassenes of Hippolytus, the Marcosians of Irenæus, and the Elkasites of Hippolytus, as well as in the Coptic-Gnostic documents that have been preserved. (See Koffmane, above work, pp. 6-22).] [Footnote 326: The particulars here belong to church history. Overbeck ("Ueber die Anfänge der patristischen Litteratur" in d. hist. Ztschr. N. F. Bd. XII. p. 417 ff.) has the merit of being the first to point out the importance, for the history of the Church, of the forms of literature as they were gradually received in Christendom. Scientific, theological literature has undoubtedly its origin in Gnosticism. The Old Testament was here, for the first time, systematically and also in part, historically criticised; a selection was here made from the primitive Christian literature; scientific commentaries were here written on the sacred books (Basilides and especially the Valentinians, see Heracleon's comm. on the Gospel of John [in Origen]); the Pauline Epistles were also technically expounded; tracts were here composed on dogmatico-philosophic problems (for example, [Greek: peri dikaiosunês--peri prosphuous psuchês--êthika--peri enkrateias hê peri eunouchias]), and systematic doctrinal systems already constructed (as the Basilidean and Valentinian); the original form of the Gospel was here first transmuted into the Greek form of sacred novel and biography (see, above all, the Gospel of Thomas, which was used by the Marcosians and Naassenes, and which contained miraculous stories from the childhood of Jesus); here, finally, psalms, odes and hymns were first composed (see the Acts of Lucius, the psalms of Valentinus, the psalms of Alexander the disciple of Valentinus, the poems of Bardesanes). Irenæus, Tertullian and Hippolytus have indeed noted, that the scientific method of interpretation followed by the Gnostics, was the same as that of the philosophers (e.g., of Philo). Valentinus, as is recognised even by the Church Fathers, stands out prominent for his mental vigour and religious imagination, Heracleon for his exegetic theological ability, Ptolemy for his ingenious criticism of the Old Testament and his keen perception of the stages of religious development (see his Epistle to Flora in Epiphanius, hær. 33. c. 7). As a specimen of the language of Valentinus one extract from a homily may suffice (in Clem. Strom. IV. 13. 89). [Greek: Ap archês athanatoi este kai tekna zôês este aiônias, kai ton thanaton êthelete merisasthai eis heautous, hina dapanêsête auton kai analôsête, kai apothanê ho thanatos en humin kai di' humôn, hotan gar ton men kosmon luête, autoi de mê kataluêsthe, kurieuete tês kriseôs kai tês phthoras apasês.] Basilides falls into the background behind Valentinus and his school. Yet the Church Fathers, when they wish to summarise the most important Gnostics, usually mention Simon Magus, Basilides, Valentinus, Marcion (even Apelles). On the relation of the Gnostics to the New Testament writings, and to the New Testament, see Zahn, Gesch. des N. T-lichen Kanons I. 2, p. 718.] [Footnote 327: Baur's classification of the Gnostic systems, which rests on the observation of how they severally realised the idea of Christianity as the absolute religion, in contrast to Judaism and Heathenism, is very ingenious, and contains a great element of truth. But it is insufficient with reference to the whole phenomenon of Gnosticism, and it has been carried out by Baur by violent abstractions.] [Footnote 328: The question, therefore, as to the time of the origin of Gnosticism, as a complete phenomenon, cannot be answered. The remarks of Hegesippus (Euseb. H. E. IV. 22) refer to the Jerusalem Church, and have not even for that the value of a fixed datum. The only important question here is the point of time at which the expulsion or secession of the schools and unions took place in the different national churches.] [Footnote 329: Justin Apol. 1. 26.] [Footnote 330: Hegesippus in Euseb. H. E. IV. 22, Iren. II. 14. 1 f., Tertull. de præscr. 7, Hippol. Philosoph. The Church Fathers have also noted the likeness of the cultus of Mithras and other deities.] [Footnote 331: We must leave the Essenes entirely out of account here, as their teaching, in all probability, is not to be considered syncretistic in the strict sense of the word, (see Lucius, "Der Essenismus", 1881), and as we know absolutely nothing of a greater diffusion of it. But we need no names here, as a syncretistic, ascetic Judaism could and did arise everywhere in Palestine and the Diaspora.] [Footnote 332: Freudenthal's "Hellenistische Studien" informs us as to the Samaritan syncretism; see also Hilgenfeld's "Ketzergeschichte", p. 149 ff. As to the Babylonian mythology in Gnosticism, see the statements in the elaborate article, "Manichaismus", by Kessler (Real-Encycl. für protest. Theol., 2 Aufl.).] [Footnote 333: Wherever traditional religions are united under the badge of philosophy a conservative syncretism is the result, because the allegoric method, that is, the criticism of all religion, veiled and unconscious of itself, is able to blast rocks and bridge over abysses. All forms may remain here, under certain circumstances, but a new spirit enters into them. On the other hand, where philosophy is still weak, and the traditional religion is already shaken by another, there arises the critical syncretism in which either the gods of one religion are subordinated to those of another, or the elements of the traditional religion are partly eliminated and replaced by others. Here, also, the soil is prepared for new religious formations, for the appearance of religious founders.] [Footnote 334: It was a serious mistake of the critics to regard Simon Magus as a fiction, which, moreover, has been given up by Hilgenfeld (Ketzergeschichte, p. 163 ff.). and Lipsius (Apocr Apostelgesch 11. 1),--the latter, however, not decidedly. The whole figure, as well as the doctrines attributed to Simon (see Acts of the Apostles, Justin, Irenæus, Hippolytus), not only have nothing improbable in them, but suit very well the religious circumstances which we must assume for Samaria. The main point in Simon is his endeavour to create a universal religion of the supreme God. This explains his success among the Samaritans and Greeks. He is really a counterpart to Jesus, whose activity can just as little have been unknown to him as that of Paul. At the same time, it cannot be denied, that the later tradition about Simon was the most confused and biassed imaginable, or that certain Jewish Christians at a later period may have attempted to endow the magician with the features of Paul in order to discredit the personality and teaching of the Apostle. But this last assumption requires a fresh investigation.] [Footnote 335: Justin, Apol. I. 26: [Greek: kai schedon pantes men Samareis, oligoi de kai en allois ethnesin, hôs ton prôton theon Simôna homologountes, ekeinon kai proskunousin] (besides the account in the Philos and Orig. c. Cels i. 57; VI. 11). The positive statement of Justin that Simon came even to Rome (under Claudius) can hardly be refuted from the account of the Apologist himself, and therefore not at all (See Renan, "Antichrist").] [Footnote 336: We have it as such in the [Greek: Megalê Apophasis] which Hippolytus (Philosoph. VI. 19. 20) made use of. This Simonianism may perhaps have been related to the original, as the doctrines of the Christian Gnostics to the Apostolic preaching.] [Footnote 337: The Heretics opposed in the Epistle to the Colossians may belong to these. On Cerinthus, see Polycarp, in Iren. III. 3. 2, Irenæus (I. 26. I.; III. 11. 1), Hippolytus and the redactions of the Syntagma, Cajus in Euseb. III. 28. 2, Hilgenfeld, Ketzergeschichte, p. 411 ff. To this category belong also the Ebionites and Elkasites of Epiphanius (See Chap. 6).] [Footnote 338: The two Syrian teachers, Saturninus and Cerdo, must in particular be mentioned here. The first (See Iren I. 24. 1. 2, Hippolyt. and the redactions of the Syntagma) was not strictly speaking a dualist, and therefore allowed the God of the Old Testament to be regarded as an Angel of the supreme God, while at the same time he distinguished him from Satan. Accordingly, he assumed that the supreme God co-operated in the creation of man by angel powers--sending a ray of light, an image of light, that should be imitated as an example and enjoined as an ideal. But all men have not received the ray of light. Consequently, two classes of men stand in abrupt contrast with each other. History is the conflict of the two. Satan stands at the head of the one, the God of the Jews at the head of the other. The Old Testament is a collection of prophecies out of both camps. The truly good first appears in the Æon Christ, who assumed nothing cosmic, did not even submit to birth. He destroys the works of Satan (generation, eating of flesh), and delivers the men who have within them a spark of light The Gnosis of Cerdo was much coarser. (Iren. I. 27. 1, Hippolyt. and the redactions). He contrasted the good God and the God of the Old Testament as two primary beings. The latter he identified with the creator of the world. Consequently, he completely rejected the Old Testament and everything cosmic and taught that the good God was first revealed in Christ. Like Saturninus he preached a strict docetism; Christ had no body, was not born, and suffered in an unreal body. All else that the Fathers report of Cerdo's teaching has probably been transferred to him from Marcion, and is therefore very doubtful.] [Footnote 339: This question might perhaps be answered if we had the Justinian Syntagma against all heresies; but, in the present condition of our sources, it remains wrapped in obscurity. What may be gathered from the fragments of Hegesippus, the Epistles of Ignatius, the Pastoral Epistles and other documents, such as, for example, the Epistle of Jude, is in itself so obscure, so detached, and so ambiguous, that it is of no value for historical construction.] [Footnote 340: There are, above all, the schools of the Basilideans, Valentinians and Ophites. To describe the systems in their full development lies, in my opinion, outside the business of the history of dogma and might easily lead to the mistake that the systems as such were controverted, and that their construction was peculiar to Christian Gnosticism. The construction, as remarked above, is rather that of the later Greek philosophy, though it cannot be mistaken that, for us, the full parallel to the Gnostic systems first appears in those of the Neoplatonists. But only particular doctrines and principles of the Gnostics were really called in question, their critique of the world, of providence, of the resurrection, etc.; these therefore are to be adduced in the next section. The fundamental features of an inner development can only be exhibited in the case of the most important, viz., the Valentinian school. But even here, we must distinguish an Eastern and a Western branch. (Tertull. adv. Valent. I.: "Valentiniani frequentissimum plane collegium inter hæreticos." Iren. I. 1.; Hippol. Philos. VI. 35; Orig. Hom. II. 5 in Ezech. Lomm. XIV. p. 40: "Valentini robustissima secta").] [Footnote 341: Tertull. de præscr. 42: "De verbi autem administratione quid dicam, cum hoc sit negotium illis, non ethnicos convertendi, sed nostros evertendi? Hanc magis gloriam captant, si stantibus ruinam, non si jacentibus elevationem operentur. Quoniam et ipsum opus eorum non de suo proprio ædificio venit, sed de veritatis destructione; nostra suffodiunt, ut sua ædificent. Adime illis legem Moysis et prophetas et creatorem deum, accusationem eloqui non habent." (See adv. Valent. I init.). This is hardly a malevolent accusation. The philosophic interpretation of a religion will always impress those only on whom the religion itself has already made an impression.] [Footnote 342: Iren. III. 4. 2: [Greek: Kerdôn eis tên ekklêsian elthôn kai exomologoumenos, houtôs dietelete, pote men lathrodidaskalôn pote de palin exomologoumenos, pote de eleggomenos eph hois edidaske kakôs, kai aphistamenos tês tôn adelphôn sunodias], see, besides, the valuable account of Tertull. de præscr. 30. The account of Irenæus (I. 13) is very instructive as to the kind of propaganda of Marcus, and the relation of the women he deluded to the Church. Against actually recognised false teachers the fixed rule was to renounce all intercourse with them (2 Joh. 10. 11, Iren. ep. ad. Florin on Polycarp's procedure, in Euseb. H. E. V. 20. 7; Iren. III. 3. 4) But how were the heretics to be surely known?] [Footnote 343: Among those who justly bore this name he distinguishes those [Greek: Hoi orthognômenes kata panta christanoi eisin] (Dial. 80).] [Footnote 344: Very important is the description which Irenæus (III. 15. 2) and Tertullian have given of the conduct of the Valentinians as observed by themselves (adv. Valent. 1). "Valentiniani nihil magis curant quam occultare, quod prædicant; si tamen prædicant qui occultant. Custodiæ officium conscientiæ officium est (a comparison with the Eleusinian mysteries follows.) Si bona fide quæras, concreto vultu, suspenso supercilio, Altum est, aiunt. Si subtiliter temptes per ambiguitates bilingues communem fidem adfirmant. Si scire te subostendas negant quidquid agnoscunt. Si cominus certes, tuam simplicitatem sua cæde dispergunt. Ne discipulis quidem propriis ante committunt quam suos fecerint. Habent artificium quo prius persuadeant quam edoceant." At a later period Dionysius of Alex, (in Euseb. H. E. VII. 7) speaks of Christians who maintain an apparent communion with the brethren, but resort to one of the false teachers (cf. as to this Euseb. H. E. VI. 2. 13). The teaching of Bardesanes influenced by Valentinus, who, moreover, was hostile to Marcionitism, was tolerated for a long time in Edessa (by the Christian kings), nay, was recognised. The Bardesanites and the "Palutians" (catholics) were differentiated only after the beginning of the third century.] [Footnote 345: There can be no doubt that the Gnostic propaganda was seriously hindered by the inability to organise and discipline churches, which is characteristic of all philosophic systems of religion. The Gnostic organisation of schools and mysteries was not able to contend with the episcopal organisation of the churches; see Ignat. ad Smyr. 6. 2; Tertull de præscr. 41. Attempts at actual formations of churches were not altogether wanting in the earliest period; at a later period they were forced on some schools. We have only to read Iren. III. 15. 2 in order to see that these associations could only exist by finding support in a church. Irenæus expressly remarks that the Valentinians designated the common Christians [Greek: katholikoi] (communes) [Greek: kai ekklêsiastikoi], but that they, on the other hand, complained that "we kept away from their fellowship without cause, as they thought like ourselves."] [Footnote 346: The differences between the Gnostic Christianity and that of the Church, that is, the later ecclesiastical theology, were fluid, if we observe the following points. (1) That even in the main body of the Church, the element of knowledge was increasingly emphasised, and the Gospel began to be converted into a perfect knowledge of the world (increasing reception of Greek philosophy, development of [Greek: pístis] to [Greek: gnôsis]). (2) That the dramatic eschatology began to fade away. (3) That room was made for docetic views, and value put upon a strict asceticism. On the other hand, we must note: (1) That all this existed only in germ or fragments within the great Church during the flourishing period of Gnosticism. (2) That the great Church held fast to the facts fixed in the baptismal formula (in the _Kerygma_), and to the eschatological expectations, further, to the creator of the world as the supreme God, to the unity of Jesus Christ, and to the Old Testament, and therefore rejected dualism. (3) That the great Church defended the unity and equality of the human race, and therefore the uniformity and universal aim of the Christian salvation. (4) That it rejected every introduction of new, especially of Oriental Mythologies, guided in this by the early Christian consciousness and a sure intelligence. A deeper, more thorough distinction between the Church and the Gnostic parties hardly dawned on the consciousness of either. The Church developed herself instinctively into an imperial Church, in which office was to play the chief rôle. The Gnostics sought to establish or conserve associations in which the genius should rule, the genius in the way of the old prophets or in the sense of Plato, or in the sense of a union of prophecy and philosophy. In the Gnostic conflict, at least at its close, the judicial priest fought with the virtuoso and overcame him.] [Footnote 347: The absolute significance of the person of Christ was very plainly expressed in Gnosticism (Christ is not only the teacher of the truth, but the manifestation of the truth), more plainly than where he was regarded as the subject of Old Testament revelation. The pre-existent Christ has significance in some Gnostic schools, but always a comparatively subordinate one. The isolating of the person of Christ, and quite as much the explaining away of his humanity, is manifestly out of harmony with the earliest tradition. But, on the other hand, it must not be denied that the Gnostics recognised redemption in the historical Christ: Christ personally procured it (see under 6. h.).] [Footnote 348: In this thesis, which may be directly corroborated by the most important Gnostic teachers, Gnosticism shews that it desires _in thesi_ (in a way similar to Philo) to continue on the soil of Christianity as a positive religion. Conscious of being bound to tradition, it first definitely raised the question, what is Christianity? and criticised and sifted the sources for an answer to the question. The rejection of the Old Testament led it to that question and to this sifting. It may be maintained with the greatest probability, that the idea of a canonical collection of Christian writings first emerged among the Gnostics (see also Marcion). They really needed such a collection, while all those who recognised the Old Testament as a document of revelation, and gave it a Christian interpretation, did not at first need a new document, but simply joined on the new to the old, the Gospel to the Old Testament. From the numerous fragments of Gnostic commentaries on New Testament writings which have been preserved, we see that these writings there enjoyed canonical authority, while at the same period, we hear nothing of such authority, nor of commentaries in the main body of Christendom (see Heinrici, "Die Valentinianische Gnosis", u. d. h. Schrift, 1871). Undoubtedly, sacred writings were selected according to the principle of apostolic origin. This is proved by the inclusion of the Pauline Epistles in the collections of books. There is evidence of such having been made by the Naassenes, Peratæ, Valentinians, Marcion, Tatian, and the Gnostic Justin. The collection of the Valentinians, and the Canon of Tatian must have really coincided with the main parts of the later Ecclesiastical Canon. The later Valentinians accommodated themselves to this Canon, that is, recognised the books that had been added (Tertull. de præscr. 38). The question as to who first conceived and realised the idea of a Canon of Christian writings, Basilides or Valentinus or Marcion or whether this was done by several at the same time, will always remain obscure, though many things favour Marcion. If it should even be proved that Basilides (see Euseb. H. E. IV. 7. 7) and Valentinus himself, regarded the Gospels only as authoritative yet the full idea of the Canon lies already in the fact of their making these the foundation and interpreting them allegorically. The question as to the extent of the Canon afterwards became the subject of an important controversy between the Gnostics and the Catholic Church. The Catholics throughout took up the position that their Canon was the earlier, and the Gnostic collection the corrupt revision of it (they were unable to adduce proof, as is attested by Tertullian's de præscr.) But the aim of the Gnostics to establish themselves on the uncorrupted apostolic tradition gathered from writings was crossed by three tendencies, which, moreover, were all jointly operative in the Christian communities and are therefore not peculiar to Gnosticism. (1) By faith in the continuance of prophecy, in which new things are always revealed by the Holy Spirit (the Basilidean and Marcionite prophets). (2) By the assumption of an esoteric secret tradition of the Apostles (see Clem. Strom. VII. 17. 106, 108, Hipp. Philos. VII. 20, Iren. I. 25. 5, III. 2. 1, Tertull. de præscr. 25. Cf. the Gnostic book [Greek: Pistis Sophia], which in great part is based on doctrines said to be imparted by Jesus to his disciples after his resurrection). (3) By the inability to oppose the continuous production of Evangelic writings in other words by the continuance of this kind of literature and the addition of Acts of the Apostles (Gospel of the Egyptians (?), other Gospels, Acts of John, Thomas, Philip etc. We know absolutely nothing about the conditions under which these writings originated the measure of authority which they enjoyed or the way in which they gained that authority). In all these points which in Gnosticism hindered the development of Christianity to the religion of a new book the Gnostic schools shew that they stood precisely under the same conditions as the Christian communities in general (see above Chap. 3 § 2). If all things do not deceive us, the same inner development may be observed even in the Valentinian school, as in the great Church viz. the production of sacred Evangelic and Apostolic writings, prophecy and secret gnosis, falling more and more into the background, and the completed Canon becoming the most important basis of the doctrine of religion. The later Valentinians (see Tertull. de præscr. and adv. Valent.) seem to have appealed chiefly to this Canon, and Tatian no less (about whose Canon see my Texte u Unters I. 1. 2. pp. 213-218). But finally we must refer to the fact that it was the highest concern of the Gnostics to furnish the historical proof of the Apostolic origin of their doctrine by an exact reference to the links of the tradition (see Ritschl Entstehung der altkath Kirche 2nd ed. p. 338 f.). Here again it appears that Gnosticism shared with Christendom the universal presupposition that the valuable thing is the Apostolic origin (see above p. 160 f.), but that it first created artificial chains of tradition, and that this is the first point in which it was followed by the Church (see the appeals to the Apostle Matthew, to Peter and Paul, through the mediation of "Glaukias," and "Theodas," to James and the favourite disciples of the Lord, in the case of the Naassenes, Ophites, Basilideans and Valentinians, etc., see, further, the close of the Epistle of Ptolemy to Flora in Epiphan H. 33. 7 [Greek: Mathaesae exês kai tên toutou archên te ka kennêsin, axioumenê tês apostolikês paradoseos. hê ek diadochês kai hêmeis pareilêphamen meta kairou] [sic] [Greek: kanonisai pantas tous logous têi tou sôtêros didaskalia], as well as the passages adduced above under (2)). From this it further follows that the Gnostics may have compiled their Canon solely according to the principle of Apostolic origin. Upon the whole we may see here how foolish it is to seek to dispose of Gnosticism with the phrase lawless fancies. On the contrary, the Gnostics purposely took their stand on the tradition, nay they were the first in Christendom who determined the range, contents and manner of propagating the tradition. They are thus the first Christian theologians.] [Footnote 349: Here also we have a point of unusual historical importance. As we first find a new Canon among the Gnostics so also among them (and in Marcion) we first meet with the traditional complex of the Christian _Kerygma_ as a doctrinal confession (_regula fidei_), that is, as a confession which, because it is fundamental, needs a speculative exposition, but is set forth by this exposition as the summary of all wisdom. The hesitancy about the details of the _Kerygma_, only shews the general uncertainty which at that time prevailed. But again, we see that the later Valentinians completely accommodated themselves to the later development in the Church (Tertull. adv. Valent. I: communem fidem adfirmant) that is attached themselves, probably even from the first, to the existing forms, while in the Marcionite Church a peculiar _regula_ was set up by a criticism of the tradition. The _regula_ as a matter of course, was regarded as Apostolic. On Gnostic _regulæ_ see Iren. I. 21. 5, 31. 3, II. præf. II. 19. 8, III. II. 3, III. 16. 1, 5, Ptolem. ap Epiph. h. 33. 7, Tertull. adv Valent. I. 4, de præscr. 42, adv Marc. I. 1, IV. 5, 17, Ep. Petri ad Jacob in Clem. Hom. c. 1. We still possess in great part verbatim the _regula_ of Apelles, in Epiphan II. 44, 2 Irenæus (I. 7. 2) and Tertull (de carne. 20) state that the Valentinian _regula_ contained the formula, '[Greek: gennêthenta dia Marias]', see on this p. 203. In noting that the two points so decisive for Catholicism the Canon of the New Testament and the Apostolic _regula_ were first, in the strict sense, set up by the Gnostics on the basis of a definite fixing and systematising of the oldest tradition we may see that the weakness of Gnosticism here consisted in its inability to exhibit the publicity of tradition and to place its propagation in close connection with the organisation of the churches.] [Footnote 350: We do not know the relation in which the Valentinians placed the public Apostolic _regula fidei_ to the secret doctrine derived from one Apostle. The Church in opposition to the Gnostics strongly emphasised the publicity of all tradition. Yet afterwards though with reservations, she gave a wide scope to the assumption of a secret tradition.] [Footnote 351: The Gnostics transferred to the Evangelic writings, and demanded as simply necessary, the methods which Barnabas and others used in expounding the Old Testament (see the samples of their exposition in Irenæus and Clement. Heinrici, l. c.). In this way, of course, all the specialties of the systems may be found in the documents. The Church at first condemned this method (Tertull. de præscr. 17-19. 39; Iren. I. 8. 9), but applied it herself from the moment in which she had adopted a New Testament Canon of equal authority with that of the Old Testament. However, the distinction always remained, that in the confrontation of the two Testaments with the views of getting proofs from prophecy, the history of Jesus described in the Gospels was not at first allegorised. Yet afterwards, the Christological dogmas of the third and following centuries demanded a docetic explanation of many points in that history.] [Footnote 352: In the Valentinian, as well as in all systems not coarsely dualistic, the Redeemer Christ has no doubt a certain share in the constitution of the highest class of men, but only through complicated mediations. The significance which is attributed to Christ in many systems for the production or organisation of the upper world, may be mentioned. In the Valentinian system there are several mediators. It may be noted that the abstract conception of the divine primitive Being seldom called forth a real controversy. As a rule, offence was taken only at the expression.] [Footnote 353: The Epistle of Ptolemy to Flora is very instructive here. If we leave out of account the peculiar Gnostic conception, we have represented in Ptolemy's criticism the later Catholic view of the Old Testament, as well as also the beginning of a historical conception of it. The Gnostics were the first critics of the Old Testament in Christendom. Their allegorical exposition of the Evangelic writings should be taken along with their attempts at interpreting the Old Testament literally and historically. It may be noted, for example, that the Gnostics were the first to call attention to the significance of the change of name for God in the Old Testament; see Iren. II. 35.. 3. The early Christian tradition led to a procedure directly the opposite. Apelles, in particular, the disciple of Marcion, exercised an intelligent criticism on the Old Testament, see my treatise, "de Apellis gnosi." p. 71 sq., and also Texte u. Unters VI. 3. p. 111 ff. Marcion himself recognised the historical contents of the Old Testament as reliable, and the criticism of most Gnostics only called in question its religious value.] [Footnote 354: Ecclesiastical opponents rightly put no value on the fact, that some Gnostics advanced to Pan-Satanism with regard to the conception of the world, while others beheld a certain _justitia civilis_ ruling in the world. For the standpoint which the Christian tradition had marked out, this distinction is just as much a matter of indifference, as the other, whether the Old Testament proceeded from an evil, or from an intermediate being. The Gnostics attempted to correct the judgment of faith about the world and its relation to God, by an empiric view of the world. Here again they are by no means "visionaries", however fantastic the means by which they have expressed their judgment about the condition of the world, and attempted to explain that condition. Those, rather are "visionaries" who give themselves up to the belief that the world is the work of a good and omnipotent Deity, however apparently reasonable the arguments they adduce. The Gnostic (Hellenistic) philosophy of religion, at this point, comes into the sharpest opposition to the central point of the Old Testament Christian belief, and all else really depends on this. Gnosticism is antichristian so far as it takes away from Christianity its Old Testament foundation, and belief in the identity of the creator of the world with the supreme God. That was immediately felt and noted by its opponents.] [Footnote 355: The ecclesiastical opposition was long uncertain on this point. It is interesting to note that Basilides portrayed the sin inherent in the child from birth, in a way that makes one feel as though he were listening to Augustine (see the fragment from the 23rd book of the [Greek: Exêgêtika] in Clem., Strom. VI. 12. 83). But it is of great importance to note how even very special later terminologies, dogmas, etc., of the Church, were in a certain way anticipated by the Gnostics. Some samples will be given below; but meanwhile we may here refer to a fragment from Apelles' Syllogisms in Ambrosius (de Parad. V. 28): "Si hominem non perfectum fecit deus, unusquisque autcm per industriam propriam perfectionem sibi virtutis adsciscit: nonne videtur plus sibi homo adquirere, quam ei deus contulit?" One seems here to be transferred into the fifth century.] [Footnote 356: The Gnostic teaching did not meet with a vigorous resistance even on this point, and could also appeal to the oldest tradition. The arbitrariness in the number, derivation and designation of the Æons was contested. The aversion to barbarism also co-operated here, in so far as Gnosticism delighted in mysterious words borrowed from the Semites. But the Semitic element attracted as well as repelled the Greeks and Romans of the second century. The Gnostic terminologies within the Æon speculations were partly reproduced among the Catholic theologians of the third century; most important is it that the Gnostics have already made use of the concept "[Greek: homoousios]"; see Iren., I. 5. 1: [Greek: alla to men pneumatikon mê dedunêsthai autên morphôsai, epeidê homoousion hupêrchen autêi] (said of the Sophia): L. 5. 4, [Greek: kaì touton einai ton kat' eikona kai homoiôsin gegonota; kat' eikona men ton hulikon huparchein, paraplêsion men, all' ouch homoousion tôi theôi kath' homoiôsin de ton psuchikon.] I. 5. 5: [Greek: to de kuêma tês mêtros tês "Achamôth", homoousion huparchon têi mêtri.] In all these cases the word means "of one substance." It is found in the same sense in Clem., Hom. 20. 7: See also Philos. VII. 22; Clem., Exc. Theod. 42. Other terms also which have acquired great significance in the Church since the days of Origen, (e.g., [Greek: agennêtos]), are found among the Gnostics, see Ep. Ptol. ad Floram, 5; and Bigg. (1. c. p. 58, note 3) calls attention to the appearance [Greek: trias] in Excerpt. ex. Theod. § 80, perhaps the earliest passage.] [Footnote 357: The characteristic of the Gnostic Christology is not Docetism, in the strict sense, but the doctrine of the two natures, that is, the distinction between Jesus and Christ, or the doctrine that the Redeemer as Redeemer was not a man. The Gnostics based this view on the inherent sinfulness of human nature, and it was shared by many teachers of the age without being based on any principle (see above, p. 195 f.). The most popular of the three Christologies briefly characterised above was undoubtedly that of the Valentinians. It is found, with great variety of details, in most of the nameless fragments of Gnostic literature that have been preserved, as well as in Apelles. This Christology might be accommodated to the accounts of the Gospels and the baptismal confession (how far is shewn by the _regula_ of Apelles, and that of the Valentinians may have run in similar terms). It was taught here that Christ had passed through Mary as a channel; from this doctrine followed very easily the notion of the Virginity of Mary, uninjured even after the birth--it was already known to Clem. Alex. (Strom. VII. 16. 93). The Church also, later on, accepted this view. It is very difficult to get a clear idea of the Christology of Basilides, as very diverse doctrines were afterwards set up in his school as is shewn by the accounts. Among them is the doctrine, likewise held by others, that Christ in descending from the highest heaven took to himself something from every sphere through which he passed. Something similar is found among the Valentinians, some of whose prominent leaders made a very complicated phenomenon of Christ, and gave him also a direct relation to the demiurge. There is further found here the doctrine of the heavenly humanity, which was afterwards accepted by ecclesiastical theologians. Along with the fragments of Basilides the account of Clem. Alex. seems to me the most reliable. According to this, Basilides taught that Christ descended on the man Jesus at the baptism. Some of the Valentinians taught something similar: the Christology of Ptolemy is characterised by the union of all conceivable Christology theories. The different early Christian conceptions may be found in him. Basilides did not admit a real union between Christ and Jesus; but it is interesting to see how the Pauline Epistles caused the theologians to view the sufferings of Christ as necessarily based on the assumption of sinful flesh, that is, to deduce from the sufferings that Christ has assumed sinful flesh. The Basilidean Christology will prove to be a peculiar preliminary stage of the later ecclesiastical Christology. The anniversary of the baptism of Christ was to the Basilideans, as the day of the [Greek: epiphaneia], a high festival day (see Clem., Strom. I. 21. 146): they fixed it for the 6th (2nd) January. And in this also the Catholic Church has followed the Gnosis. The real docetic Christology as represented by Saturninus (and Marcion) was radically opposed to the tradition, and struck out the birth of Jesus, as well as the first 30 years of his life. An accurate exposition of the Gnostic Christologies, which would carry us too far here, (see especially Tertull., de carne Christi), would shew, that a great part of the questions which occupy Church theologians till the present day, were already raised by the Gnostics; for example, what happened to the body of Christ after the resurrection? (see the doctrines of Apelles and Hermogenes); what significance the appearance of Christ had for the heavenly and Satanic powers? what meaning belongs to his sufferings, although there was no real suffering for the heavenly Christ, but only for Jesus? etc. In no other point do the anticipations in the Gnostic dogmatic stand out so plainly (see the system of Origen; many passages bearing on the subject will be found in the third and fourth volumes of this work, to which readers are referred). The Catholic Church has learned but little from the Gnostics, that is, from the earliest theologians in Christendom, in the doctrine of God and the world, but very much in Christology, and who can maintain that she has ever completely overcome the Gnostic doctrine of the two natures, nay, even Docetism? Redemption viewed in the historical person of Jesus, that is, in the appearance of a Divine being on the earth, but the person divided and the real history of Jesus explained away and made inoperative, is the signature of the Gnostic Christology--this, however, is also the danger of the system of Origen and those systems that are dependent on him (Docetism) as well as, in another way, the danger of the view of Tertullian and the Westerns (doctrine of two natures). Finally, it should be noted that the Gnosis always made a distinction between the supreme God and Christ, but that, from the religious position, it had no reason for emphasising that distinction. For to many Gnostics, Christ was in a certain way the manifestation of the supreme God himself, and therefore in the more popular writings of the Gnostics (see the Acta Johannis) expressions are applied to Christ which seem to identify him with God. The same thing is true of Marcion and also of Valentinus (see his Epistle in Clem., Strom. II. 20. 114: [Greek: eis de estin agathos. ou parousia hê dia tou huiou phanerôsis]). This Gnostic estimate of Christ has undoubtedly had a mighty influence on the later Church development of Christology. We might say without hesitation that to most Gnostics Christ was a [Greek: pneuma homoousion tôi patri]. The details of the life, sufferings and resurrection of Jesus are found in many Gnostics, transformed, complemented and arranged in the way in which Celsus (Orig., c. Cels. I. II.) required for an impressive and credible history. Celsus indicates how everything must have taken place if Christ had been a God in human form. The Gnostics in part actually narrate it so. What an instructive coincidence! How strongly the docetic view itself was expressed in the case of Valentinus, and how the exaltation of Jesus above the earthly was thereby to be traced back to his moral struggle, is shewn in the remarkable fragment of a letter (in Clem., Strom. III. 7. 59): [Greek: Panta hupomeinas êgkratês tên theotêta Iêsous eirgazeto. êsthien gar kai apien idiôs ouk apodidous ta brômata, tosautê ên autôi tês egkrateias dunamis, hôste kai mê phtharênai tên trophên en autôi epei to phtheresthai autos ouk eichen]. In this notion, however, there is more sense and historical meaning than in that of the later ecclesiastical aphtharto-docetism.] [Footnote 358: The Gnostic distinction of classes of men was connected with the old distinction of stages in spiritual understanding, but has its basis in a law of nature. There were again empirical and psychological views--they must have been regarded as very important, had not the Gnostics taken them from the traditions of the philosophic schools--which made the universalism of the Christian preaching of salvation, appear unacceptable to the Gnostics. Moreover, the transformation of religion into a doctrine of the school, or into a mystery cult, always resulted in the distinction of the knowing from the _profanum vulgus_. But in the Valentinian assumption that the common Christians as psychical occupy an intermediate stage, and that they are saved by faith, we have a compromise which completely lowered the Gnosis to a scholastic doctrine within Christendom. Whether and in what way the Catholic Church maintained the significance of Pistis as contrasted with Gnosis, and in what way the distinction between the knowing (priests) and the laity was there reached, will be examined in its proper place. It should be noted, however, that the Valentinian, Ptolemy, ascribes freedom of will to the psychic (which the pneumatic and hylic lack), and therefore has sketched by way of by-work a theology for the psychical beside that for the pneumatic, which exhibits striking harmonies with the exoteric system of Origen. The denial by Gnosticism of free will, and therewith of moral responsibility, called forth very decided contradiction. Gnosticism, that is, the acute hellenising of Christianity, was wrecked in the Church on free will, the Old Testament and eschatology.] [Footnote 359: The greatest deviation of Gnosticism from tradition appears in eschatology, along with the rejection of the Old Testament and the separation of the creator of the world from the supreme God. Upon the whole our sources say very little about the Gnostic eschatology. This, however, is not astonishing; for the Gnostics had not much to say on the matter, or what they had to say found expression in their doctrine of the genesis of the world, and that of redemption through Christ. We learn that the _regula_ of Apelles closed with the words: [Greek: aneptê eis ouranon hothen kai hêke], instead of [Greek: hothen erchetai krinai zôntas kai nekrous]. We know that Marcion, who may already be mentioned here, referred the whole eschatological expectations of early Christian times to the province of the god of the Jews, and we hear that Gnostics (Valentinians) retained the words [Greek: sarkos anastasin], but interpreted them to mean that one must rise in this life, that is perceive the truth (thus the "resurrectio a mortuis", that is, exaltation above the earthly, took the place of the "resurrectio mortuorum"; See Iren. II. 31. 2: Tertull., de resurr. carnis, 19). While the Christian tradition placed a great drama at the close of history, the Gnostics regard the history itself as the drama, which virtually closes with the (first) appearing of Christ. It may not have been the opinion of all Gnostics that the resurrection has already taken place, yet for most of them the expectations of the future seem to have been quite faint, and above all without significance. The life is so much included in knowledge, that we nowhere in our sources find a strong expression of hope in a life beyond (it is different in the earliest Gnostic documents preserved in the Coptic language), and the introduction of the spirits into the Pleroma appears very vague and uncertain. But it is of great significance that those Gnostics who, according to their premises, required a real redemption from the world as the highest good, remained finally in the same uncertainty and religious despondency with regard to this redemption, as characterised the Greek philosophers. A religion which is a philosophy of religion remains at all times fixed to this life, however strongly it may emphasise the contrast between the spirit and its surroundings, and however ardently it may desire redemption. The desire for redemption is unconsciously replaced by the thinker's joy in his knowledge, which allays the desire (Iren. III. 15. 2: "Inflatus est iste [scil. the Valentinian proud of knowledge] neque in coelo, neque in terra putat se esse, sed intra Pleroma introisse et complexum jam angelum suum, cum institorio et supercilio incedit gallinacei elationem habens.... Plurimi, quasi jam perfecti, semetipsos spiritales vocant, et se nosse jam dicunt eum qui sit intra Pleroma ipsorum refrigerii locum"). As in every philosophy of religion, an element of free thinking appears very plainly here also. The eschatological hopes can only have been maintained in vigour by the conviction that the world is of God. But we must finally refer to the fact, that even in eschatology, Gnosticism only drew the inferences from views which were pressing into Christendom from all sides, and were in an increasing measure endangering its hopes of the future. Besides, in some Valentinian circles, the future life was viewed as a condition of education, as a progress through the series of the (seven) heavens; i.e., purgatorial experiences in the future were postulated. Both afterwards, from the time of Origen, forced their way into the doctrine of the Church (purgatory, different ranks in heaven), Clement and Origen being throughout strongly influenced by the Valentinian eschatology.] [Footnote 360: See the passage Clem. Strom. III. 6, 49, which is given above, p. 238.] [Footnote 361: Cf. the Apocryphal Acts of Apostles and diverse legends of Apostles (e.g., in Clem. Alex.).] [Footnote 362: More can hardly be said: the heads of schools were themselves earnest men. No doubt statements such as that of Heracleon seem to have led to laxity in the lower sections of the collegium: [Greek: homologian einai tên men en têi pistei kai politeiai. tên de en phônêi; hê mên oun en phônêi homologia kai epi tôn exousiôn ginetai, hên monên homologian hêgountai einai hoi polloi, ouch hugiôs dunantai de tautên tên homologian kai hoi hupokritai homologein.]] [Footnote 363: See Epiph. h. 26, and the statements in the Coptic Gnostic works. (Schmidt, Texte u Unters. VIII. 1. 2, p. 566 ff.).] [Footnote 364: There arose in this way an extremely difficult theoretical problem, but practically a convenient occasion for throwing asceticism altogether overboard, with the Gnostic asceticism, or restricting it to easy exercises. This is not the place for entering into the details. Shibboleths, such as [Greek: pheugete ou tas phuseis alla tas gnômas tôn kakôn], may have soon appeared. It may be noted here, that the asceticism which gained the victory in Monasticism, was not really that which sprang from early Christian, but from Greek impulses, without, of course, being based on the same principle. Gnosticism anticipated the future even here. That could be much more clearly proved in the history of the worship. A few points which are of importance for the history of dogma may be mentioned here: (1) The Gnostics viewed the traditional sacred actions (Baptism and the Lord's Supper) entirely as mysteries, and applied to them the terminology of the mysteries (some Gnostics set them aside as psychic); but in doing so they were only drawing the inferences from changes which were then in process throughout Christendom. To what extent the later Gnosticism in particular was interested in sacraments, may be studied especially in the Pistis Sophia and the other Coptic works of the Gnostics, which Carl Schmidt has edited; see, for example, Pistis Sophia, p. 233. "Dixit Jesus ad suos [Greek: mathêtas; amên] dixi vobis, haud adduxi quidquam in [Greek: kosmon] veniens nisi hunc ignem et hanc aquam et hoc vinum et hunc sanguinem." (2) They increased the holy actions by the addition of new ones, repeated baptisms (expiations), anointing with oil, sacrament of confirmation [Greek: apolutrôsis]; see, on Gnostic sacraments, Iren. I. 20, and Lipsius, Apokr. Apostelgesch. I. pp. 336-343, and cf. the [Greek: puknôs metanosusi] in the delineation of the Shepherd of Hermas. Mand. XI. (3) Marcus represented the wine in the Lord's Supper as actual blood in consequence of the act of blessing: see Iren., I. 13.2: [Greek: potêria oinô kekramena prospoioumenos eucharistein kai epi pleon ekteinôn ton logon tês epiklêseôs, porphurea kai eruthra anaphainesthai poiei, hôs dokein tên apo tôn huper ta hola charin to haima to heautês stazein en ekeinô tô potêriô dia tês epiklêseôs autou, kai huperimeiresthai tous parontas ex ekeinou geusasthai tou pomatos, hina kai eis autous epombrêsê hê dia tou magou toutou klêizomenê charis.] Marcus was indeed a charlatan; but religious charlatanry afterwards became very earnest, and was certainly taken earnestly by many adherents of Marcus. The transubstantiation idea, in reference to the elements in the mysteries, is also plainly expressed in the Excerpt. ex. Theodot. § 82: [Greek: kai ho artos kai to elaion agiazetai tê dunamei tou onomatos ou ta auta onta kata to phainomenon dia elêphthê, alla du amei eis dunamin pneumatikên metabeblêtai] (that is, not into a new super-terrestrial material, not into the real body of Christ, but into a spiritual power) [Greek: outôs kai to hudôr kai to exorkizomenon kai to baptisma ginomenon ou monon chôrei to cheiron, alla kai agiasmon proslambanei]. Irenæus possessed a liturgical handbook of the Marcionites, and communicates many sacramental formula from it (I. c. 13 sq). In my treatise on the Pistis Sophia (Texte u. Unters. VII. 2. pp. 59-94) I think I have shewn ("The common Christian and the Catholic elements of the Pistis Sophia") to what extent Gnosticism anticipated Catholicism as a system of doctrine and an institute of worship. These results have been strengthened by Carl Schmidt (Texte u. Unters. VIII. 1. 2). Even purgatory, prayers for the dead, and many other things, raised in speculative questions and definitely answered, are found in those Coptic Gnostic writings, and are then met with again in Catholicism. One general remark may be permitted in conclusion. The Gnostics were not interested in apologetics, and that is a very significant fact. The [Greek: pneuma] in man was regarded by them as a supernatural principle, and on that account they are free from all rationalism and moralistic dogmatism. For that very reason they are in earnest with the idea of revelation, and do not attempt to prove it or convert its contents into natural truths. They did endeavour to prove that their doctrines were Christian, but renounced all proof that revelation is the truth (proofs from antiquity). One will not easily find in the case of the Gnostics themselves, the revealed truth described as philosophy, or morality as the philosophic life. If we compare therefore, the first and fundamental system of Catholic doctrine, that of Origen, with the system of the Gnostics, we shall find that Origen, like Basilides and Valentinus, was a philosopher of revelation, but that he had besides a second element which had its origin in apologetics.] CHAPTER V MARCION'S ATTEMPT TO SET ASIDE THE OLD TESTAMENT FOUNDATION OF CHRISTIANITY, TO PURIFY TRADITION AND TO REFORM CHRISTENDOM ON THE BASIS OF THE PAULINE GOSPEL Marcion cannot be numbered among the Gnostics in the strict sense of the word.[365] For (1) he was not guided by any speculatively scientific, or even by an apologetic, but by a soteriological interest.[366] (2) He therefore put all emphasis on faith, not on Gnosis.[367] (3) In the exposition of his ideas he neither applied the elements of any Semitic religious wisdom, nor the methods of the Greek philosophy of religion.[368] (4) He never made the distinction between an esoteric and an exoteric form of religion. He rather clung to the publicity of the preaching, and endeavoured to reform Christendom, in opposition to the attempts at founding schools for those who knew and mystery cults for such as were in quest of initiation. It was only after the failure of his attempts at reform that he founded churches of his own, in which brotherly equality, freedom from all ceremonies, and strict evangelical discipline were to rule.[369] Completely carried away with the novelty, uniqueness and grandeur of the Pauline Gospel of the grace of God in Christ, Marcion felt that all other conceptions of the Gospel, and especially its union with the Old Testament religion, was opposed to, and a backsliding from the truth.[370] He accordingly supposed that it was necessary to make the sharp antitheses of Paul, law and gospel, wrath and grace, works and faith, flesh and spirit, sin and righteousness, death and life, that is the Pauline criticism of the Old Testament religion, the foundation of his religious views, and to refer them to two principles, the righteous and wrathful god of the Old Testament, who is at the same time identical with the creator of the world, and the God of the Gospel, quite unknown before Christ, who is only love and mercy.[371] This Paulinism in its religious strength, but without dialectic, without the Jewish Christian view of history, and detached from the soil of the Old Testament, was to him the true Christianity. Marcion, like Paul, felt that the religious value of a statutory law with commandments and ceremonies, was very different from that of a uniform law of love.[372] Accordingly, he had a capacity for appreciating the Pauline idea of faith; it is to him reliance on the unmerited grace of God which is revealed in Christ. But Marcion shewed himself to be a Greek, influenced by the religious spirit of the time, by changing the ethical contrast of the good and legal into the contrast between the infinitely exalted spiritual and the sensible which is subject to the law of nature, by despairing of the triumph of good in the world and, consequently, correcting the traditional faith that the world and history belong to God, by an empirical view of the world and the course of events in it,[373] a view to which he was no doubt also led by the severity of the early Christian estimate of the world. Yet to him systematic speculation about the final causes of the contrast actually observed, was by no means the main thing. So far as he himself ventured on such a speculation he seems to have been influenced by the Syrian Cerdo. The numerous contradictions which arise as soon as one attempts to reduce Marcion's propositions to a system, and the fact that his disciples tried all possible conceptions of the doctrine of principles, and defined the relation of the two Gods very differently, are the clearest proof that Marcion was a religious character, that he had in general nothing to do with principles, but with living beings whose power he felt, and that what he ultimately saw in the Gospel was not an explanation of the world, but redemption from the world,[374]--redemption from a world, which even in the best that it can offer, has nothing that can reach the height of the blessing bestowed in Christ.[375] Special attention may be called to the following particulars. 1. Marcion explained the Old Testament in its literal sense and rejected every allegorical interpretation. He recognised it as the revelation of the creator of the world and the god of the Jews, but placed it, just on that account, in sharpest contrast to the Gospel. He demonstrated the contradictions between the Old Testament and the Gospel in a voluminous work (the [Greek: antitheseis]).[376] In the god of the former book he saw a being whose character was stern justice, and therefore anger; contentiousness and unmercifulness. The law which rules nature and man appeared to him to accord with the characteristics of this god and the kind of law revealed by him, and therefore it seemed credible to him that this god is the creator and lord of the world ([Greek: kosmokratôr]). As the law which governs the world is inflexible, and yet, on the other hand, full of contradictions, just and again brutal, and as the law of the Old Testament exhibits the same features, so the god of creation was to Marcion a being who united in himself the whole gradations of attributes from justice to malevolence, from obstinacy to inconsistency.[377] Into this conception of the creator of the world, the characteristic of which is that it cannot be systematised, could easily be fitted the Syrian Gnostic theory which regards him as an evil being, because he belongs to this world and to matter. Marcion did not accept it in principle,[378] but touched it lightly and adopted certain inferences.[379] On the basis of the Old Testament and of empirical observation, Marcion divided men into two classes, good and evil, though he regarded them all, body and soul, as creatures of the demiurge. The good are those who strive to fulfil the law of the demiurge. These are outwardly better than those who refuse him obedience. But the distinction found here is not the decisive one. To yield to the promptings of Divine grace is the only decisive distinction, and those just men will shew themselves less susceptible to the manifestation of the truly good than sinners. As Marcion held the Old Testament to be a book worthy of belief, though his disciple, Apelles, thought otherwise, he referred all its predictions to a Messiah whom the creator of the world is yet to send, and who, as a warlike hero, is to set up the earthly kingdom of the "just" God.[380] 2. Marcion placed the good God of love in opposition to the creator of the world.[381] This God has only been revealed in Christ. He was absolutely unknown before Christ,[382] and men were in every respect strange to him.[383] Out of pure goodness and mercy, for these are the essential attributes of this God who judges not and is not wrathful, he espoused the cause of those beings who were foreign to him, as he could not bear to have them any longer tormented by their just and yet malevolent lord.[384] The God of love appeared in Christ and proclaimed a new kingdom (Tertull., adv. Marc. III. 24. fin.). Christ called to himself the weary and heavy laden,[385] and proclaimed to them that he would deliver them from the fetters of their lord and from the world. He shewed mercy to all while he sojourned on the earth, and did in every respect the opposite of what the creator of the world had done to men. They who believed in the creator of the world nailed him to the cross. But in doing so they were unconsciously serving his purpose, for his death was the price by which the God of love purchased men from the creator of the world.[386] He who places his hope in the Crucified can now be sure of escaping from the power of the creator of the world, and of being translated into the kingdom of the good God. But experience shews that, like the Jews, men who are virtuous according to the law of the creator of the world, do not allow themselves to be converted by Christ; it is rather sinners who accept his message of redemption. Christ, therefore, rescued from the under-world, not the righteous men of the Old Testament (Iren. I. 27. 3), but the sinners who were disobedient to the creator of the world. If the determining thought of Marcion's view of Christianity is here again very clearly shewn, the Gnostic woof cannot fail to be seen in the proposition that the good God delivers only the souls, not the bodies of believers. The antithesis of spirit and matter, appears here as the decisive one, and the good God of love becomes the God of the spirit, the Old Testament god the god of the flesh. In point of fact, Marcion seems to have given such a turn to the good God's attributes of love, and incapability of wrath, as to make Him the apathetic, infinitely exalted Being, free from all affections. The contradiction in which Marcion is here involved is evident, because he taught expressly that the spirit of man is in itself just as foreign to the good God as his body. But the strict asceticism which Marcion demanded as a Christian, could have had no motive, without the Greek assumption of a metaphysical contrast of flesh and Spirit, which in fact was also apparently the doctrine of Paul. 3. The relation in which Marcion placed the two Gods, appears at first sight to be one of equal rank.[387] Marcion himself, according to the most reliable witnesses, expressly asserted that both were uncreated, eternal, etc. But if we look more closely we shall see that in Marcion's mind there can be no thought of equality. Not only did he himself expressly declare that the creator of the world is a self-contradictory being of limited knowledge and power, but the whole doctrine of redemption shews that he is a power subordinate to the good God. We need not stop to enquire about the details, but it is certain that the creator of the world formerly knew nothing of the existence of the good God, that he is in the end completely powerless against him, that he is overcome by him, and that history in its issue with regard to man, is determined solely by its relation to the good God. The just god appears at the end of history, not as an independent being, hostile to the good God, but as one subordinate to him,[388] so that some scholars, such as Neander, have attempted to claim for Marcion a doctrine of one principle, and to deny that he ever held the complete independence of the creator of the world, the creator of the world being simply an angel of the good God. This inference may certainly be drawn with little trouble, as the result of various considerations, but it is forbidden by reliable testimony. The characteristic of Marcion's teaching is just this, that as soon as we seek to raise his ideas from the sphere of practical considerations to that of a consistent theory, we come upon a tangled knot of contradictions. The theoretic contradictions are explained by the different interests which here cross each other in Marcion. In the first place, he was consciously dependent on the Pauline theology, and was resolved to defend everything which he held to be Pauline. Secondly, he was influenced by the contrast in which he saw the ethical powers involved. This contrast seemed to demand a metaphysical basis, and its actual solution seemed to forbid such a foundation. Finally, the theories of Gnosticism, the paradoxes of Paul, the recognition of the duty of strictly mortifying the flesh, suggested to Marcion the idea that the good God was the exalted God of the spirit, and the just god the god of the sensuous, of the flesh. This view, which involved the principle of a metaphysical dualism, had something very specious about it, and to its influence we must probably ascribe the fact that Marcion no longer attempted to derive the creator of the world from the good God. His disciples who had theoretical interests in the matter, no doubt noted the contradictions. In order to remove them, some of these disciples advanced to a doctrine of three principles, the good God, the just creator of the world, the evil god, by conceiving the creator of the world sometimes as an independent being, sometimes as one dependent on the good God. Others reverted to the common dualism, God of the spirit and god of matter. But Apelles, the most important of Marcion's disciples, returned to the creed of the one God ([Greek: mia archê]), and conceived the creator of the world and Satan as his angels, without departing from the fundamental thought of the master, but rather following suggestions which he himself had given.[389] Apart from Apelles, who founded a Church of his own, we hear nothing of the controversies of disciples breaking up the Marcionite church. All those who lived in the faith for which the master had worked--viz., that the laws ruling in nature and history, as well as the course of common legality and righteousness, are the antitheses of the act of Divine mercy in Christ, and that cordial love and believing confidence have their proper contrasts in self-righteous pride and the natural religion of the heart,--those who rejected the Old Testament and clung solely to the Gospel proclaimed by Paul, and finally, those who considered that a strict mortification of the flesh and an earnest renunciation of the world were demanded in the name of the Gospel, felt themselves members of the same community, and to all appearance allowed perfect liberty to speculations about final causes. 4. Marcion had no interest in specially emphasising the distinction between the good God and Christ, which according to the Pauline Epistles, could not be denied. To him Christ is the manifestation of the good God himself.[390] But Marcion taught that Christ assumed absolutely nothing from the creation of the Demiurge, but came down from heaven in the 15th year of the Emperor Tiberius, and after the assumption of an apparent body, began his preaching in the synagogue of Capernaum.[391] This pronounced docetism which denies that Jesus was born, or subjected to any human process of development,[392] is the strongest expression of Marcion's abhorrence of the world. This aversion may have sprung from the severe attitude of the early Christians toward the world, but the inference which Marcion here draws, shews, that this feeling was, in his case, united with the Greek estimate of spirit and matter. But Marcion's docetism is all the more remarkable that, under Paul's guidance, he put a high value on the fact of Christ's death upon the cross. Here also is a glaring contradiction which his later disciples laboured to remove. This much, however, is unmistakable, that Marcion succeeded in placing the greatness and uniqueness of redemption through Christ in the clearest light and in beholding this redemption in the person of Christ, but chiefly in his death upon the cross. 5. Marcion's eschatology is also quite rudimentary. Yet be assumed with Paul that violent attacks were yet in store for the Church of the good God on the part of the Jewish Christ of the future, the Antichrist. He does not seem to have taught a visible return of Christ, but, in spite of the omnipotence and goodness of God, he did teach a twofold issue of history. The idea of a deliverance of all men, which seems to follow from his doctrine of boundless grace, was quite foreign to him. For this very reason, he could not help actually making the good God the judge, though in theory he rejected the idea, in order not to measure the will and acts of God by a human standard. Along with the fundamental proposition of Marcion, that God should be conceived only as goodness and grace, we must take into account the strict asceticism which he prescribed for the Christian communities, in order to see that that idea of God was not obtained from antinomianism. We know of no Christian community in the second century which insisted so strictly on renunciation of the world as the Marcionites. No union of the sexes was permitted. Those who were married had to separate ere they could be received by baptism into the community. The sternest precepts were laid down in the matter of food and drink. Martyrdom was enjoined; and from the fact that they were [Greek: talaipôroi kai misoumenoi] in the world, the members were to know that they were disciples of Christ.[393] With all that, the early Christian enthusiasm was wanting. 6. Marcion defined his position in theory and practice towards the prevailing form of Christianity, which, on the one hand, shewed throughout its connection with the Old Testament, and, on the other, left room for a secular ethical code, by assuming that it had been corrupted by Judaism, and therefore needed a reformation.[394] But he could not fail to note that this corruption was not of recent date, but belonged to the oldest tradition itself. The consciousness of this moved him to a historical criticism of the whole Christian tradition.[395] Marcion was the first Christian who undertook such a task. Those writings to which he owed his religious convictions, viz., the Pauline Epistles, furnished the basis for it. He found nothing in the rest of Christian literature that harmonised with the Gospel of Paul. But he found in the Pauline Epistles hints which explained to him this result of his observations. The twelve Apostles whom Christ chose did not understand him, but regarded him as the Messiah of the god of creation.[396] And therefore Christ inspired Paul by a special revelation, lest the Gospel of the grace of God should be lost through falsifications.[397] But even Paul had been understood only by few (by none?). His Gospel had also been misunderstood, nay, his Epistles had been falsified in many passages,[398] in order to make them teach the identity of the god of creation and the God of redemption. A new reformation was therefore necessary. Marcion felt himself entrusted with this commission, and the church which he gathered recognised this vocation of his to be the reformer.[399] He did not appeal to a new revelation such as he presupposed for Paul. As the Pauline Epistles and an authentic [Greek: euangelion kuriou] were in existence, it was only necessary to purify these from interpolations, and restore the genuine Paulinism which was just the Gospel itself. But it was also necessary to secure and preserve this true Christianity for the future. Marcion, in all probability, was the first to conceive and, in great measure, to realise the idea of placing Christendom on the firm foundation of a definite theory of what is Christian--but not of basing it on a theological doctrine--and of establishing this theory by a fixed collection of Christian writings with canonical authority.[400] He was not a systematic thinker; but he was more, for he was not only a religious character, but at the same time a man with an organising talent, such as has no peer in the early Church. If we think of the lofty demands he made on Christians, and, on the other hand, ponder the results that accompanied his activity, we cannot fail to wonder. Wherever Christians were numerous about the year 160, there must have been Marcionite communities with the same fixed but free organisation, with the same canon and the same conception of the essence of Christianity, pre-eminent for the strictness of their morals and their joy in martyrdom.[401] The Catholic Church was then only in process of growth, and it was long ere it reached the solidity won by the Marcionite church through the activity of one man, who was animated by a faith so strong that he was able to oppose his conception of Christianity to all others as the only right one, and who did not shrink from making selections from tradition instead of explaining it away. He was the first who laid the firm foundation for establishing what is Christian, because, in view of the absoluteness of his faith,[402] he had no desire to appeal either to a secret evangelic tradition, or to prophecy, or to natural religion. _Remarks._--The innovations of Marcion are unmistakable. The way in which he attempted to sever Christianity from the Old Testament was a bold stroke which demanded the sacrifice of the dearest possession of Christianity as a religion, viz., the belief that the God of creation is also the God of redemption. And yet this innovation was partly caused by a religious conviction, the origin of which must be sought not in heathenism, but on Old Testament and Christian soil. For the bold Anti-judaist was the disciple of a Jewish thinker, Paul, and the origin of Marcion's antinomianism may be ultimately found in the prophets. It will always be the glory of Marcion in the early history of the Church that he, the born heathen, could appreciate the religious criticism of the Old Testament religion as formerly exercised by Paul. The antinomianism of Marcion was ultimately based on the strength of his religious feeling, on his personal religion as contrasted with all statutory religion. That was also its basis in the case of the prophets and of Paul, only the statutory religion which was felt to be a burden and a fetter was different in each case. As regards the prophets, it was the outer sacrificial worship, and the deliverance was the idea of Jehovah's righteousness. In the case of Paul, it was the pharisaic treatment of the law, and the deliverance was righteousness by faith. To Marcion it was the sum of all that the past had described as a revelation of God: only what Christ had given him was of real value to him. In this conviction he founded a Church. Before him there was no such thing in the sense of a community, firmly united by a fixed conviction, harmoniously organised, and spread over the whole world. Such a Church the Apostle Paul had in his mind's eye, but he was not able to realise it. That in the century of the great mixture of religion the greatest apparent paradox was actually realised: namely, a Paulinism with two Gods and without the Old Testament; and that this form of Christianity first resulted in a church which was based not only on intelligible words, but on a definite conception of the essence of Christianity as a religion, seems to be the greatest riddle which the earliest history of Christianity presents. But it only seems so. The Greek, whose mind was filled with certain fundamental features of the Pauline Gospel (law and grace), who was therefore convinced that in all respects the truth was there, and who on that account took pains to comprehend the real sense of Paul's statements, could hardly reach any other results than those of Marcion. The history of Pauline theology in the Church, a history first of silence, then of artificial interpretation, speaks loudly enough. And had not Paul really separated Christianity as religion from Judaism and the Old Testament? Must it not have seemed an inconceivable inconsistency, if he had clung to the special national relation of Christianity to the Jewish people, and if he had taught a view of history in which for pædagogic reasons indeed, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort had appeared as one so entirely different? He who was not capable of translating himself into the consciousness of a Jew, and had not yet learned the method of special interpretation, had only the alternative, if he was convinced of the truth of the Gospel of Christ as Paul had proclaimed it, of either giving up this Gospel against the dictates of his conscience, or striking out of the Epistles whatever seemed Jewish. But in this case the god of creation also disappeared, and the fact that Marcion could make this sacrifice proves that this religious spirit, with all his energy, was not able to rise to the height of the religious faith which we find in the preaching of Jesus. In basing his own position and that of his church on Paulism, as he conceived and remodelled it, Marcion connected himself with that part of the earliest tradition of Christianity which is best known to us, and has enabled us to understand his undertaking historically as we do no other. Here we have the means of accurately indicating what part of this structure of the second century has come down from the Apostolic age and is really based on tradition, and what does not. Where else could we do that? But Marcion has taught us far more. He does not impart a correct understanding of early Christianity, as was once supposed, for his explanation of that is undoubtedly incorrect, but a correct estimate of the reliability of the traditions that were current in his day alongside of the Pauline. There can be no doubt that Marcion criticised tradition from a dogmatic stand-point. But would his undertaking have been at all possible, if at that time a reliable tradition of the twelve Apostles and their teaching had existed and been operative in wide circles? We may venture to say no. Consequently, Marcion gives important testimony against the historical reliability of the notion that the common Christianity was really based on the tradition of the twelve Apostles. It is not surprising that the first man who clearly put and answered the question, "What is Christian?" adhered exclusively to the Pauline Epistles, and therefore found a very imperfect solution. When more than 1600 years later the same question emerged for the first time in scientific form, its solution had likewise to be first attempted from the Pauline Epistles, and therefore led at the outset to a one-sidedness similar to that of Marcion. The situation of Christendom in the middle of the second century was not really more favourable to a historical knowledge of early Christianity, than that of the 18th century, but in many respects more unfavourable. Even at that time, as attested by the enterprise of Marcion, its results, and the character of the polemic against him, there were besides the Pauline Epistles, no reliable documents from which the teaching of the twelve Apostles could have been gathered. The position which the Pauline Epistles occupy in the history of the world is, however, described by the fact that every tendency in the Church which was unwilling to introduce into Christianity the power of Greek mysticism, and was yet no longer influenced by the early Christian eschatology, learned from the Pauline Epistles a Christianity which, as a religion, was peculiarly vigorous. But that position is further described by the fact that every tendency which courageously disregards spurious traditions, is compelled to turn to the Pauline Epistles, which, on the one hand, present such a profound type of Christianity, and on the other, darken and narrow the judgment about the preaching of Christ himself, by their complicated theology. Marcion was the first, and for a long time the only Gentile Christian who took his stand on Paul. He was no moralist, no Greek mystic, no Apocalyptic enthusiast, but a religious character, nay, one of the few pronouncedly typical religious characters whom we know in the early Church before Augustine. But his attempt to resuscitate Paulinism is the first great proof that the conditions under which this Christianity originated do not repeat themselves, and that therefore Paulinism itself must receive a new construction if one desires to make it the basis of a Church. His attempt is a further proof of the unique value of the Old Testament to early Christendom, as the only means at that time of defending Christian monotheism. Finally, his attempt confirms the experience that a religious community can only be founded by a religious spirit who expects nothing from the world. Nearly all ecclesiastical writers, from Justin to Origen, opposed Marcion. He appeared already to Justin as the most wicked enemy. We can understand this, and we can quite as well understand how the Church Fathers put him on a level with Basilides and Valentinus, and could not see the difference between them. Because Marcion elevated a better God above the god of creation, and consequently robbed the Christian God of his honour, he appeared to be worse than a heathen (Sentent. episc. LXXXVII., in Hartel's edition of Cyprian, I. p. 454; "Gentiles quamvis idola colant, tamen summum deum patrem creatorem cognoscunt et confitentur [!]; in hunc Marcion blasphemat, etc."), as a blaspheming emissary of demons, as the first-born of Satan (Polyc., Justin, Irenæus). Because he rejected the allegoric interpretation of the Old Testament, and explained its predictions as referring to a Messiah of the Jews who was yet to come, he seemed to be a Jew (Tertull., adv. Marc. III.). Because he deprived Christianity of the apologetic proof (the proof from antiquity) he seemed to be a heathen and a Jew at the same time (see my Texte u. Unters. I. 3, p. 68; the antitheses of Marcion became very important for the heathen and Manichæan assaults on Christianity). Because he represented the twelve Apostles as unreliable witnesses, he appeared to be the most wicked and shameless of all heretics. Finally, because he gained so many adherents, and actually founded a church, he appeared to be the ravening wolf (Justin, Rhodon), and his church as the spurious church. (Tertull., adv. Marc. IV. 5). In Marcion the Church Fathers chiefly attacked what they attacked in all Gnostic heretics, but here error shewed itself in its worst form. They learned much in opposing Marcion (see Bk. II.). For instance, their interpretation of the _regula fidei_ and of the New Testament received a directly Antimarcionite expression in the Church. One thing, however, they could not learn from him, and that was how to make Christianity into a philosophic system. He formed no such system, but he has given a clearly outlined conception, based on historic documents, of Christianity as the religion which redeems the world. _Literature._--All anti-heretical writings of the early Church, but especially Justin, Apol. I. 26, 58; Iren. I. 27; Tertull., adv. Marc. I-V.; de præscr.; Hippol., Philos.; Adamant., de recta in deum fidei; Epiph. h. 42; Ephr. Syr.; Esnik. The older attempts to restore the Marcionite Gospel and Apostolicum have been antiquated by Zahn's Kanonsgeschichte, l. c. Hahn (Regimonti, 1823) has attempted to restore the Antitheses. We are still in want of a German monograph on Marcion (see the whole presentation of Gnosticism by Zahn, with his Excursus, l. c.). Hilgenfeld, Ketzergesch. p. 316 f. 522 f.; cf. my works, Zur Quellenkritik des Gnosticismus, 1873; de Apelles Gnosis Monarchia, 1874; Beiträge z. Gesch. der Marcionitischen Kirchen (Ztschr. f. wiss. Theol. 1876). Marcion's Commentar zum Evangelium (Ztschr. f. K. G. Bd. IV. 4). Apelles Syllogismen in the Texte u. Unters. VI. H. 3. Zahn, die Dialoge des Adamantius in the Ztschr. f. K.-Gesch. IX. p. 193 ff. Meyboom, Marcion en de Marcionieten, Leiden, 1888. [Footnote 365: He belonged to Pontus and was a rich shipowner: about 139 he came to Rome already a Christian, and for a short time belonged to the church there. As he could not succeed in his attempt to reform it, he broke away from it about 144. He founded a church of his own and developed a very great activity. He spread his views by numerous journeys and communities bearing his name very soon arose in every province of the Empire (Adamantius, de recta in deum fide, Origen Opp. ed Delarue 1. p. 809, Epiph. h. 42. p. 668, ed. Oehler). They were ecclesiastically organised (Tertull., de præscr. 41. and adv. Marc. IV. 5) and possessed bishops, presbyters, etc. (Euseb. H. E. IV. 15. 46: de Mart. Palæst. X. 2; Les Bas and Waddington Inscript, Grecq. et Latines rec. en Grêce et en Asie Min. Vol. III. No. 2558). Justin (Apol. 1. 26) about 150 tells us that Marcion's preaching had spread [Greek: kata pan genos anthrôpôn] and by the year 155, the Marcionites were already numerous in Rome (Iren. III. 34). Up to his death however Marcion did not give up the purpose of winning the whole of Christendom and therefore again and again sought connection with it (Iren. I. c.; Tertull., de præscr. 30), likewise his disciples (see the conversation of Apelles with Rhodon in Euseb. H. E. V. 13. 5. and the dialogue of the Marcionites with Adamantius). It is very probable that Marcion had fixed the ground features of his doctrine and had laboured for its propagation even before he came to Rome. In Rome the Syrian Gnostic Cerdo had a great influence on him, so that we can even yet perceive, and clearly distinguish the Gnostic element in the form of the Marcionite doctrine transmitted to us.] [Footnote 366: "Sufficit," said the Marcionites, "unicum opsus deo nostro quod hominem liberavit summa et præcipua bonitate sua" (Tertull. adv. Marc. I. 17).] [Footnote 367: Apelles, the disciple of Marcion, declared (Euseb. H. E. V. 13. 5) [Greek: sôthêsesthai tous epi ton estaurômenon êlpikotas, monon ean en ergois agathois euriskôntai.]] [Footnote 368: This is an extremely important point. Marcion rejected all allegories (See Tertull. adv. Marc. II. 19. 21, 22, III. 5. 6, 14, 19, IV. 15. 20, V. 1, Orig. Comment. in Matth. T. XV. 3, Opp. III. p. 655, in ep. ad. Rom. Opp. IV. p. 494 sq., Adamant. Sect. I., Orig. Opp. I. pp. 808, 817, Ephr. Syrus. hymn. 36., Edit. Benedict p. 520 sq.) and describes this method as an arbitrary one. But that simply means that he perceived and avoided the transformation of the Gospel into Hellenic philosophy. No philosophic formulæ are found in any of his statements that have been handed down to us. But what is still more important, none of his early opponents have attributed to Marcion a system as they did to Basilides and Valentinus. There can be no doubt that Marcion did not set up any system (the Armenian Esnik first gives a Marcionite system but that is a late production, see my essay in the Ztschr. f. wiss. Theol. 1896, p. 80 f.). He was just as far from having any apologetic or rationalistic interest; Justin (Apol. I. 58) says of the Marcionites [Greek: apodeixin mêdemian peri hôn legousin echousin alla alogôs hôs hupo lukou arnes sunêrpasmenoi k.t.l.]. Tertullian again and again casts in the teeth of Marcion that he has adduced no proof. See I. 11 sq., III. 2. 3, 4, IV. 11: "Subito Christus subito et Johannes Sic sunt omnia apud Marcionem quæ suum et plenum habent ordinem apud creatorem." Rhodon (Euseb. H. E. V. 13. 4) says of two prominent genuine disciples of Marcion [Greek: mê euriskontes tên diairesin tôn pragmatôn hôs oude ekeinos duo archas apephênanto psilôs ka anapodeiktôs]. Of Apelles the most important of Marcion's disciples, who laid aside the Gnostic borrows of his master, we have the words (1. c) [Greek: mê dein holôs exetazein ton logon all' hekaston hôs pepisteuke diamenein Sôthêsesthai var tous eti ton estarômenon êlpikotas apephaineto monon ean en ergois agathois heuriskôntai. to de pôs esti mia archê mê ginôskein elegen houtô de kineisthai monon. mê epistasthai pôs eîs estin agennêtos theos touto de pisteuein]. It was Marcion's purpose therefore to give all value to faith alone to make it dependent on its own convincing power and avoid all philosophic paraphrase and argument. The contrast in which he placed the Christian blessing of salvation has in principle nothing in common with the contract in which Greek philosophy viewed the _summum bonum_. Finally it may be pointed out that Marcion introduced no new elements (Æons, Matter, etc.) into his evangelic views and leant on no Oriental religious science. The later Marcionite speculations about matter (see the account of Esnik) should not be charged upon the master himself as is manifest from the second book of Tertullian against Marcion. The assumption that the creator of the world created it out of a _materia subjacens_ is certainly found in Marcion (see Tertull. 1. 15, Hippol. Philos. X. 19) but he speculated no further about it and that assumption itself was not rejected, for example, by Clem. Alex. (Strom. II. 16. 74, Photius on Clement's Hypotyposes). Marcion did not really speculate even about the good God, yet see Tertull. adv. Marc. I. 14. 15, IV. 7: "Mundus ille superior--coelum tertium."] [Footnote 369: Tertull., de præscr. 41. sq.; the delineation refers chiefly to the Marcionites (see Epiph. h. 42. c. 3. 4, and Esnik's account), on the Church system of Marcion, see also Tertull., adv. Marc. I. 14, 21, 23, 24, 28, 29: III. 1, 22: IV. 5, 34: V. 7, 10, 15, 18.] [Footnote 370: Marcion himself originally belonged to the main body of the Church, as is expressly declared by Tertullian and Epiphanius, and attested by one of his own letters.] [Footnote 371: Tertull., adv. Marc. I. 2, 19: "Separatio legis et evangelii proprium et principale opus est Marcionis ... ex diversitate sententiarum utriusque instrumenti diversitatem quoque argumentatur deorum." II. 28, 29: IV. 1. I. 6: "dispares deos, alterum, judicem, ferum, bellipotentem; alterum mitem, placidum et tantummodo bonum atque optimum." Iren. I. 27. 2.] [Footnote 372: Marcion maintained that the good God is not to be feared. Tertull., adv. Marc. I. 27: "Atque adeo præ se ferunt Marcionitæ quod deum suum omnino non timeant. Malus autem, inquiunt, timebitur; bonus autem diligitur." To the question why they did not sin if they did not fear their God, the Marcionites answered in the words of Rom. VI. 1. 2. (l. c).] [Footnote 373: Tertull., adv. Marc. I. 2; II. 5.] [Footnote 374: See the passage adduced, p. 266, note 2, and Tertull, I. 19: "Immo inquiunt Marcionitæ, deus noster, etsi non ab initio, etsi non per conditionem, sed per semetipsum revelatus est in Christi Jesu." The very fact that different theological tendencies (schools) appeared within Marcionite Christianity and were mutually tolerant, proves that the Marcionite Church itself was not based on a formulated system of faith. Apelles expressly conceded different forms of doctrine in Christendom, on the basis of faith in the Crucified and a common holy ideal of life (see p. 267).] [Footnote 375: Tertull., I, 13. "Narem contrahentes impudentissimi Marcionitæ convertuntur ad destructionem operum creatoris. Nimirum, inquiunt, grande opus et dignum deo mundus?" The Marcionites (Iren., IV. 34. 1) put the question to their ecclesiastical opponents, "Quid novi attulit dominus veniens?" and therewith caused them no small embarrassment.] [Footnote 376: On these see Tertull. I. 19; II. 28. 29; IV. 1, 4, 6; Epiph. Hippol., Philos. VII. 30; the book was used by other Gnostics also (it is very probable that 1 Tim. VI. 20, an addition to the Epistle--refers to Marcion's Antitheses). Apelles, Marcion's disciple, composed a similar work under the title of "Syllogismi." Marcion's Antitheses, which may still in part be reconstructed from Tertullian, Epiphanius, Adamantius, Ephraem, etc., possessed canonical authority in the Marcionite church, and therefore took the place of the Old Testament. That is quite clear from Tertull., I. 19 (cf. IV. 1): Separatio legis et Evangelii proprium et principale opus est Marcionis, nee poterunt negare discipuli ejus, quod in summo (suo) instrumento habent, quo denique initiantur et indurantur in hanc hæresim.] [Footnote 377: Tertullian has frequently pointed to the contradictions in the Marcionite conception of the god of creation. These contradictions, however, vanish as soon as we regard Marcion's god from the point of view that he is like his revelation in the Old Testament.] [Footnote 378: The creator of the world is indeed to Marcion "malignus", but not "malus."] [Footnote 379: Marcion touched on it when he taught that the "visibilia" belonged to the god of creation, but the "invisibilia" to the good God (I. 16). He adopted the consequences, inasmuch as he taught docetically about Christ, and only assumed a deliverance of the human soul.] [Footnote 380: See especially the third book of Tertull., adv. Marcion.] [Footnote 381: "Solius bonitatis", "deus melior", were Marcion's standing expressions for him.] [Footnote 382: "Deus incognitus" was likewise a standing expression. They maintained against all attacks the religious position that, from the nature of the case, believers only can know God, and that this is quite sufficient (Tertull., 1. 11).] [Footnote 383: Marcion firmly emphasised this and appealed to passages in Paul; see Tertull., I. 11, 19, 23: "scio dicturos, atquin hanc esse principalem et perfectam bonitatem, cum sine ullo debito familiaritatis in extraneos voluntaria et libera effunditur, secundum quam inimicos quoque nostros et hoc nomine jam extraneos deligere jubeamur." The Church Fathers therefore declared that Marcion's good God was a thief and a robber. See also Celsus, in Orig. VI. 53.] [Footnote 384: See Esnik's account, which, however, is to be used cautiously.] [Footnote 385: Marcion has strongly emphasised the respective passages in Luke's Gospel: see his Antitheses, and his comments on the Gospel, as presented by Tertullian (l. IV).] [Footnote 386: That can be plainly read in Esnik, and must have been thought by Marcion himself, as he followed Paul (see Tertull., l. V. and I. 11). Apelles also emphasised the death upon the cross. Marcion's conception of the purchase can indeed no longer be ascertained in its details. But see Adamant., de recta in deum fide, sect. I. It is one of his theoretic contradictions that the good God who is exalted above righteousness should yet purchase men.] [Footnote 387: Tertull. I. 6: "Marcion non negat creatorem deum esse."] [Footnote 388: Here Tertull., I. 27, 28, is of special importance; see also II. 28: IV. 29 (on Luke XII. 41-46): IV. 30. Marcion's idea was this. The good God does not judge or punish; but He judges in so far as he keeps evil at a distance from Him: it remains foreign to Him. "Marcionitæ interrogati quid fiet peccatori cuique die illo? respondent abici illum quasi ab oculis." "Tranquilitas est et mansuetudinis segregare solummodo et partem ejus cum infidelibus ponere." But what is the end of him who is thus rejected? "Ab igne, inquiunt, creatoris deprehendetur." We might think with Tertullian that the creator of the world would receive sinners with joy: but this is the god of the law who punishes sinners. The issue is twofold: the heaven of the good God, and the hell of the creator of the world. Either Marcion assumed with Paul that no one can keep the law, or he was silent about the end of the "righteous" because he had no interest in it. At any rate, the teaching of Marcion closes with an outlook in which the creator of the world can no longer be regarded as an independent god. Marcion's disciples (see Esnik) here developed a consistent theory: the creator of the world violated his own law by killing the righteous Christ, and was therefore deprived of all his power by Christ.] [Footnote 389: Schools soon arose in the Marcionite church, just as they did later on in the main body of Christendom (see Rhodon in Euseb, H. E. V. 13. 2-4). The different doctrines of principles which were here developed (two, three, four principles; the Marcionite Marcus's doctrine of two principles in which the creator of the world is an evil being, diverges furthest from the Master), explain the different accounts of the Church Fathers about Marcion's teaching. The only one of the disciples who really seceded from the Master, was Apelles (Tertull., de præscr. 30). His teaching is therefore the more important, as it shews that it was possible to retain the fundamental ideas of Marcion without embracing dualism. The attitude of Apelles to the Old Testament is that of Marcion, in so far as he rejects the book. But perhaps he somewhat modified the strictness of the Master. On the other hand, he certainly designated much in it as untrue and fabulous. It is remarkable that we meet with a highly honoured prophetess in the environment of Apelles: in Marcion's church we hear nothing of such, nay, it is extremely important as regards Marcion, that he has never appealed to the Spirit and to prophets. The "sanctiores feminæ" Tertull. V. 8, are not of this nature, nor can we appeal even to V. 15. Moreover, it is hardly likely that Jerome ad Eph. III. 5, refers to Marcionites. In this complete disregard of early Christian prophecy, and in his exclusive reliance on literary documents, we see in Marcion a process of despiritualising, that is, a form of secularisation peculiar to himself. Marcion no longer possessed the early Christian enthusiasm as, for example, Hermas did.] [Footnote 390: Marcion was fond of calling Christ "Spiritus salutaris." From the treatise of Tertullian we can prove both that Marcion distinguished Christ from God, and that he made no distinction (see, for example, I. 11, 14; II. 27; III. 8, 9, 11; IV. 7). Here again Marcion did not think theologically. What he regarded as specially important was that God has revealed himself in Christ, "per semetipsum." Later Marcionites expressly taught Patripassianism, and have on that account been often grouped with the Sabellians. But other Christologies also arose in Marcion's church, which is again a proof that it was not dependent on scholastic teaching, and therefore could take part in the later development of doctrines.] [Footnote 391: See the beginning of the Marcionite Gospel.] [Footnote 392: Tertullian informs us sufficiently about this. The body of Christ was regarded by Marcion merely as an "umbra", a "phantasma." His disciples adhered to this, but Apelles first constructed a "doctrine" of the body of Christ.] [Footnote 393: The strict asceticism of Marcion and the Marcionites is reluctantly acknowledged by the Church Fathers; see Tertull., de præscr. 30: "Sanctissimus magister"; I. 28, "carni imponit sanctitem." The strict prohibition of marriage: I. 29: IV. 11, 17, 29, 34, 38: V. 7, 8, 15. 18; prohibition of food: I. 14; cynical life: Hippol., Philos. VII. 29; numerous martyrs: Euseb. H. E. V. 16, 21. and frequently elsewhere. Marcion named his adherents (Tertull. IV. 9 36) "[Greek: suntalaipôroi kai summisoumenoi]." It is questionable whether Marcion himself allowed the repetition of baptism; it arose in his church. But this repetition is a proof that the prevailing conception of baptism was not sufficient for a vigorous religious temper.] [Footnote 394: Tertull. I. 20. "Aiunt, Marcionem non tam innovasse regulam separatione legis et evangelii quam retro adulteratam recurasse." See the account of Epiphanius, taken from Hippolytus, about the appearance of Marcion in Rome (h. 42. 1, 2).] [Footnote 395: Here again we must remember that Marcion appealed neither to a secret tradition, nor to the "Spirit," in order to appreciate the epoch-making nature of his undertaking.] [Footnote 396: In his estimate of the twelve Apostles Marcion took as his standpoint Gal. II. See Tertull. I. 20: IV. 3 (generally IV. 1-6), V. 3; de præscr. 22. 23. He endeavoured to prove from this chapter that from a misunderstanding of the words of Christ, the twelve Apostles had proclaimed a different Gospel than that of Paul; they had wrongly taken the Father of Jesus Christ for the god of creation. It is not quite clear how Marcion conceived the inward condition of the Apostles during the lifetime of Jesus (See Tertull. III. 22: IV. 3. 39). He assumed that they were persecuted by the Jews as the preachers of a new God. It is probable, therefore, that he thought of a gradual obscuring of the preaching of Jesus in the case of the primitive Apostles. They fell back into Judaism; see Iren. III. 2. 2. "Apostolos admiscuisse ea quæ sunt legalia salvatoris verbis"; III. 12. 12: "Apostoli quæ sunt Judæorum sentientes scripserunt" etc.; Tertull. V. 3: "Apostolos vultis Judaismi magis adfines subintelligi." The expositions of Marcion in Tertull. IV. 9, 11, 13, 21, 24, 39: V. 13. shew that he regarded the primitive Apostles as out and out real Apostles of Christ.] [Footnote 397: The call of Paul was viewed by Marcion as a manifestation of Christ, of equal value with His first appearance and ministry; see the account of Esnik. "Then for the second time Jesus came down to the lord of the creatures in the form of his Godhead, and entered into judgment with him on account of his death.... And Jesus said to him: 'Judgment is between me and thee, let no one be judge but thine own laws.... hast thou not written in this thy law, that he who killeth shall die?' And he answered, 'I have so written' ... Jesus said to him, 'Deliver thyself therefore into my hands' ... The creator of the world said, 'Because I have slain thee I give thee a compensation, all those who shall believe on thee, that thou mayest do with them what thou pleasest.' Then Jesus left him and carried away Paul, and shewed him the price, and sent him to preach that we are bought with this price, and that all who believe in Jesus are sold by this just god to the good one." This is a most instructive account; for it shews that in the Marcionite schools the Pauline doctrine of reconciliation was transformed into a drama, and placed between the death of Christ and the call of Paul, and that the Pauline Gospel was based, not directly on the death of Christ upon the cross, but on a theory of it converted into history. On Paul as the one apostle of the truth; see Tertull. I. 20: III. 5, 14: IV. 2 sq.: IV. 34: V. 1. As to a Marcionite theory that the promise to send the Spirit was fulfilled in the mission of Paul, an indication of the want of enthusiasm among the Marcionites, see the following page, note 2.] [Footnote 398: Marcion must have spoken _ex professo_ in his Antitheses about the Judaistic corruptions of Paul's Epistles and the Gospel. He must also have known Evangelic writings bearing the names of the original Apostles, and have expressed himself about them (Tertull. IV. 1-6).] [Footnote 399: Marcion's self-consciousness of being a reformer, and the recognition of this in his church is still not understood, although his undertaking itself and the facts speak loud enough. (1) The great Marcionite church called itself after Marcion (Adamant., de recta in deum fide. I. 809; Epiph. h. 42, p. 668, ed. Oehler: [Greek: Markiôn sou to onoma epikeklêntai hoi upo sou êpatêmenoi, hôs seauton kêruxantos kai ouchi Christon]. We possess a Marcionite inscription which begins: [Greek: sunagôgê Markiônistôn]). As the Marcionites did not form a school, but a church, it is of the greatest value for shewing the estimate of the master in this church, that its members called themselves by his name. (2) The Antitheses of Marcion had a place in the Marcionite canon (see above, p. 270). This canon therefore embraced a book of Christ, Epistles of Paul, and a book of Marcion, and for that reason the Antitheses were always circulated with the canon of Marcion. (3) Origen (in Luc. hom. 25. T. III. p. 962) reports as follows: "Denique in tantam quidam dilectionis audaciam proruperunt, ut nova quædam et inaudita super Paulo monstra confingerent. Alli enim aiunt, hoc quod scriptum est, sedere a dextris salvatoris et sinistris, de Paulo et de Marcione dici, quod Paulus sedet a dextris, Marcion sedet a sinistris. Porro alii legentes: Mittam vobis advocatum Spiritum veritatis, nolunt intelligere tertiam personam a patre et filio, sed Apostolum Paulum." The estimate of Marcion which appears here is exceedingly instructive. (4) An Arabian writer, who, it is true, belongs to a later period, reports that Marcionites called their founder "Apostolorum principem." (5) Justin, the first opponent of Marcion, classed him with Simon Magus and Menander, that is, with demonic founders of religion. These testimonies may suffice.] [Footnote 400: On Marcion's Gospel see the Introductions to the New Testament and Zahn's Kanonsgeschichte, Bd. I., p. 585 ff. and II., p. 409. Marcion attached no name to his Gospel, which, according to his own testimony, he produced from the third one of our Canon (Tertull, adv. Marc. IV. 2, 3, 4). He called it simply [Greek: euangelion (kuriou)], but held that it was the Gospel which Paul had in his mind when he spoke of his Gospel. The later Marcionites ascribed the authorship of the Gospel partly to Paul, partly to Christ himself, and made further changes in it. That Marcion chose the Gospel called after Luke should be regarded as a makeshift; for this Gospel, which is undoubtedly the most Hellenistic of the four Canonical Gospels, and therefore comes nearest to the Catholic conception of Christianity, accommodated itself in its traditional form but little better than the other three to Marcionite Christianity. Whether Marcion took it for a basis because in his time it had already been connected with Paul (or really had a connection with Paul), or whether the numerous narratives about Jesus as the Saviour of sinners, led him to recognise in this Gospel alone a genuine kernel, we do not know.] [Footnote 401: The associations of the Encratites and the community founded by Apelles stood between the main body of Christendom and the Marcionite church. The description of Celsus (especially V. 61-64 in Orig.) shews the motley appearance which Christendom presented soon after the middle of the second century. He there mentions the Marcionites, and a little before (V. 59), the "great Church." It is very important that Celsus makes the main distinction consist in this, that some regarded their God as identical with the God of the Jews, whilst others again declared that "theirs was a different Deity who is hostile to that of the Jews, and that it was he who had sent the Son." (V. 61).] [Footnote 402: One might be tempted to comprise the character of Marcion's religion in the words, "The God who dwells in my breast can profoundly excite my inmost being. He who is throned above all my powers can move nothing outwardly." But Marcion had the firm assurance that God has done something much greater than move the world: he has redeemed men from the world, and given them the assurance of this redemption, in the midst of all oppression and enmity which do not cease.] CHAPTER VI. APPENDIX: THE CHRISTIANITY OF THE JEWISH CHRISTIANS 1. Original Christianity was in appearance Christian Judaism, the creation of a universal religion on Old Testament soil. It retained therefore, so far as it was not hellenised, which never altogether took place, its original Jewish features. The God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob was regarded as the Father of Jesus Christ, the Old Testament was the authoritative source of revelation, and the hopes of the future were based on the Jewish ones. The heritage which Christianity took over from Judaism, shews itself on Gentile Christian soil, in fainter or distincter form, in proportion as the philosophic mode of thought already prevails, or recedes into the background.[403] To describe the appearance of the Jewish, Old Testament, heritage in the Christian faith, so far as it is a religious one, by the name Jewish Christianity, beginning at a certain point quite arbitrarily chosen, and changeable at will, must therefore necessarily lead to error, and it has done so to a very great extent. For this designation makes it appear as though the Jewish element in the Christian religion were something accidental, while it is rather the case that all Christianity, in so far as something alien is not foisted into it, appears as the religion of Israel perfected and spiritualised. We are therefore not justified in speaking of Jewish Christianity, where a Christian community, even one of Gentile birth, calls itself the true Israel, the people of the twelve tribes, the posterity of Abraham; for this transfer is based on the original claim of Christianity and can only be forbidden by a view that is alien to it. Just as little may we designate Jewish Christian the mighty and realistic hopes of the future which were gradually repressed in the second and third centuries. They may be described as Jewish, or as Christian; but the designation Jewish Christian must be rejected; for it gives a wrong impression as to the historic right of these hopes in Christianity. The eschatological ideas of Papias were not Jewish Christian, but Christian; while, on the other hand, the eschatological speculations of Origen were not Gentile Christian, but essentially Greek. Those Christians who saw in Jesus the man chosen by God and endowed with the Spirit, thought about the Redeemer not in a Jewish Christian, but in a Christian manner. Those of Asia Minor who held strictly to the 14th of Nisan as the term of the Easter festival, were not influenced by Jewish Christian, but by Christian or Old Testament, considerations. The author of the "Teaching of the Apostles," who has transferred the rights of the Old Testament priests with respect to the first fruits, to the Christian prophets, shews himself by such transference not as a Jewish Christian, but as a Christian. There is no boundary here; for Christianity took possession of the whole of Judaism as religion, and it is therefore a most arbitrary view of history which looks upon the Christian appropriation of the Old Testament religion, after any point, as no longer Christian, but only Jewish Christian. Wherever the universalism of Christianity is not violated in favour of the Jewish nation, we have to recognise every appropriation of the Old Testament as Christian. Hence this proceeding could be spontaneously undertaken in Christianity, as was in fact done. 2. But the Jewish religion is a national religion, and Christianity burst the bonds of nationality, though not for all who recognised Jesus as Messiah. This gives the point at which the introduction of the term "Jewish Christianity" is appropriate.[404] It should be applied exclusively to those Christians who really maintained in their whole extent, or in some measure, even if it were to a minimum degree, the national and political forms of Judaism and the observance of the Mosaic law in its literal sense, as essential to Christianity, at least to the Christianity of born Jews, or who, though rejecting these forms, nevertheless assumed a prerogative of the Jewish people even in Christianity (Clem., Homil. XI. 26: [Greek: ean ho allophulos ton nomon praxêi, Ioudaios estin, mê praxas de Hellên]; "If the foreigner observe the law he is a Jew, but if not he is a Greek.")[405] To this Jewish Christianity is opposed, not Gentile Christianity, but the Christian religion, in so far as it is conceived as universalistic and anti-national in the strict sense of the term (Presupp. § 3), that is, the main body of Christendom in so far as it has freed itself from Judaism as a nation.[406] It is not strange that this Jewish Christianity was subject to all the conditions which arose from the internal and external position of the Judaism of the time; that is, different tendencies were necessarily developed in it, according to the measure of the tendencies (or the disintegrations) which asserted themselves in the Judaism of that time. It lies also in the nature of the case that, with one exception, that of Pharisaic Jewish Christianity, all other tendencies were accurately parallelled in the systems which appeared in the great, that is, anti-Jewish Christendom. They were distinguished from these, simply by a social and political, that is, a national element. Moreover, they were exposed to the same influences from without as the synagogue, and as the larger Christendom, till the isolation to which Judaism as a nation, after severe reverses condemned itself, became fatal to them also. Consequently, there were besides Pharisaic Jewish Christians, ascetics of all kinds who were joined by all those over whom Oriental religious wisdom and Greek philosophy had won a commanding influence (see above, p. 242 f.) In the first century these Jewish Christians formed the majority in Palestine, and perhaps also in some neighbouring provinces. But they were also found here and there in the West. Now the great question is, whether this Jewish Christianity as a whole, or in certain of its tendencies, was a factor in the development of Christianity to Catholicism. This question is to be answered in the negative, and quite as much with regard to the history of dogma as with regard to the political history of the Church. From the stand-point of the universal history of Christianity, these Jewish Christian communities appear as rudimentary structures which now and again, as objects of curiosity, engaged the attention of the main body of Christendom in the East, but could not exert any important influence on it, just because they contained a national element. The Jewish Christians took no considerable part in the Gnostic controversy, the epoch-making conflict which was raised within the pale of the larger Christendom about the decisive question, whether, and to what extent, the Old Testament should remain a basis of Christianity, although they themselves were no less occupied with the question.[407] The issue of this conflict in favour of that party which recognised the Old Testament in its full extent as a revelation of the Christian God, and asserted the closest connection between Christianity and the Old Testament religion, was so little the result of any influence of Jewish Christianity, that the existence of the latter would only have rendered that victory more difficult, unless it had already fallen into the background, as a phenomenon of no importance.[408] How completely insignificant it was is shewn not only by the limited polemics of the Church Fathers, but perhaps still more by their silence, and the new import which the reproach of Judaising obtained in Christendom after the middle of the second century. In proportion as the Old Testament, in opposition to Gnosticism, became a more conscious and accredited possession in the Church, and at the same time, in consequence of the naturalising of Christianity in the world, the need of regulations, fixed rules, statutory enactments etc., appeared as indispensable, it must have been natural to use the Old Testament as a holy code of such enactments. This procedure was no falling away from the original anti-Judaic attitude, provided nothing national was taken from the book, and some kind of spiritual interpretation given to what had been borrowed. The "apostasy" rather lay simply in the changed needs. But one now sees how those parties in the Church, to which for any reason this progressive legislation was distasteful, raised the reproach of "Judaising,"[409] and further, how conversely the same reproach was hurled at those Christians who resisted the advancing hellenising of Christianity, with regard, for example, to the doctrine of God, eschatology, Christology, etc.[410] But while this reproach is raised, there is nowhere shewn any connection between those described as Judaising Christians and the Ebionites. That they were identified off-hand is only a proof that "Ebionitism" was no longer known. That "Judaising" within Catholicism which appears, on the one hand, in the setting up of a Catholic ceremonial law (worship, constitution, etc.), and on the other, in a tenacious clinging to less hellenised forms of faith and hopes of faith, has nothing in common with Jewish Christianity, which desired somehow to confine Christianity to the Jewish nation.[411] Speculations that take no account of history may make out that Catholicism became more and more Jewish Christian. But historical observation, which reckons only with concrete quantities, can discover in Catholicism, besides Christianity, no element which it would have to describe as Jewish Christian. It observes only a progressive hellenising, and in consequence of this, a progressive spiritual legislation which utilizes the Old Testament, a process which went on for centuries according to the same methods which had been employed in the larger Christendom from the beginning.[412] Baur's brilliant attempt to explain Catholicism as a product of the mutual conflict and neutralising of Jewish and Gentile Christianity, (the latter according to Baur being equivalent to Paulinism) reckons with two factors, of which, the one had no significance at all, and the other only an indirect effect, as regards the formation of the Catholic Church. The influence of Paul in this direction is exhausted in working out the universalism of the Christian religion, for a Greater than he had laid the foundation for this movement, and Paul did not realise it by himself alone. Placed on this height Catholicism was certainly developed by means of conflicts and compromises, not, however, by conflicts with Ebionitism, which was to all intents and purposes discarded as early as the first century, but as the result of the conflict of Christianity with the united powers of the world in which it existed, on behalf of its own peculiar nature as the universal religion based on the Old Testament. Here were fought triumphant battles, but here also compromises were made which characterise the essence of Catholicism as Church and as doctrine.[413] A history of Jewish Christianity and its doctrines does not therefore, strictly speaking, belong to the history of dogma, especially as the original distinction between Jewish Christianity and the main body of the Church lay, as regards its principle, not in doctrine, but in policy. But seeing that the opinions of the teachers in this Church regarding Jewish Christianity, throw light upon their own stand-point, also that up till about the middle of the second century Jewish Christians were still numerous and undoubtedly formed the great majority of believers in Palestine,[414] and finally, that attempts--unsuccessful ones indeed--on the part of Jewish Christianity to bring Gentile Christians under its sway, did not cease till about the middle of the third century, a short sketch may be appropriate here.[415] Justin vouches for the existence of Jewish Christians, and distinguishes between those who would force the law even on Gentile-Christians, and would have no fellowship with such as did not observe it, and those who considered that the law was binding only on people of Jewish birth, and did not shrink from fellowship with Gentile Christians who were living without the law. How the latter could observe the law and yet enter into intercourse with those who were not Jews, is involved in obscurity, but these he recognises as partakers of the Christian salvation and therefore as Christian brethren, though he declares that there are Christians who do not possess this large heartedness. He also speaks of Gentile Christians who allowed themselves to be persuaded by Jewish Christians into the observance of the Mosaic law, and confesses that he is not quite sure of the salvation of these. This is all we learn from Justin,[416] but it is instructive enough. In the first place, we can see that the question is no longer a burning one: "Justin here represents only the interests of a Gentile Christianity whose stability has been secured." This has all the more meaning that in the Dialogue Justin has not in view an individual Christian community, or the communities of a province, but speaks as one who surveys the whole situation of Christendom.[417] The very fact that Justin has devoted to the whole question only one chapter of a work containing 142, and the magnanimous way in which he speaks, shew that the phenomena in question have no longer any importance for the main body of Christendom. Secondly, it is worthy of notice that Justin distinguishes two tendencies in Jewish Christianity. We observe these two tendencies in the Apostolic age (Presupp. § 3); they had therefore maintained themselves to his time. Finally, we must not overlook the circumstance that he adduces only the [Greek: ennomos politeia], "legal polity," as characteristic of this Jewish Christianity. He speaks only incidentally of a difference in doctrine, nay, he manifestly presupposes that the [Greek: didagmata Christou], "teachings of Christ," are essentially found among them just as among the Gentile Christians; for he regards the more liberal among them as friends and brethren.[418] The fact that, even then, there were Jewish Christians here and there who sought to spread the [Greek: ennomos politeia] among Gentile Christians, has been attested by Justin and also by other contemporary writers.[419] But there is no evidence of this propaganda having acquired any great importance. Celsus also knows Christians who desire to live as Jews according to the Mosaic law (V. 61), but he mentions them only once, and otherwise takes no notice of them in his delineation of, and attack on, Christianity. We may perhaps infer that he knew of them only from hearsay, for he simply enumerates them along with the numerous Gnostic sects. Had this keen observer really known them he would hardly have passed them over, even though he had met with only a small number of them.[420] Irenæus placed the Ebionites among the heretical schools,[421] but we can see from his work that in his day they must have been all but forgotten in the West.[422] This was not yet the case in the East. Origen knows of them. He knows also of some who recognise the birth from the Virgin. He is sufficiently intelligent and acquainted with history to judge that the Ebionites are no school, but as believing Jews are the descendants of the earliest Christians, in fact he seems to suppose that all converted Jews have at all times observed the law of their fathers. But he is far from judging of them favourably. He regards them as little better than the Jews ([Greek: Ioudaioi kai hoi oligô diapherontes autôn Ebiônaioi], "Jews and Ebionites who differ little from them"). Their rejection of Paul destroys the value of their recognition of Jesus as Messiah. They appear only to have assumed Christ's name, and their literal exposition of the Scripture is meagre and full of error. It is possible that such Jewish Christians may have existed in Alexandria, but it is not certain. Origen knows nothing of an inner development in this Jewish Christianity.[423] Even in Palestine, Origen seems to have occupied himself personally with these Jewish Christians, just as little as Eusebius.[424] They lived apart by themselves and were not aggressive. Jerome is the last who gives us a clear and certain account of them.[425] He, who associated with them, assures us that their attitude was the same as in the second century, only they seem to have made progress in the recognition of the birth from the Virgin and in their more friendly position towards the Church.[426] Jerome at one time calls them Ebionites and at another Nazarenes, thereby proving that these names were used synonymously.[427] There is not the least ground for distinguishing two clearly marked groups of Jewish Christians, or even for reckoning the distinction of Origen and the Church Fathers to the account of Jewish Christians themselves, so as to describe as Nazarenes those who recognised the birth from the Virgin, and who had no wish to compel the Gentile Christians to observe the law, and the others as Ebionites. Apart from syncretistic or Gnostic Jewish Christianity, there is but one group of Jewish Christians holding various shades of opinion, and these from the beginning called themselves Nazarenes as well as Ebionites. From the beginning, likewise, one portion of them was influenced by the existence of a great Gentile Church which did not observe the law. They acknowledged the work of Paul and experienced in a slight degree influences emanating from the great Church.[428] But the gulf which separated them from that Church did not thereby become narrower. That gulf was caused by the social and political separation of these Jewish Christians, whatever mental attitude, hostile or friendly, they might take up to the great Church. This Church stalked over hem with iron feet, as over a structure which in her opinion was full of contradictions throughout ("Semi-christiani"), and was disconcerted neither by the gospel of these Jewish Christians nor by anything else about them.[429] But as the Synagogue also vigorously condemned them, their position up to their extinction was a most tragic one. These Jewish Christians, more than any other Christian party, bore the reproach of Christ. The Gospel, at the time when it was proclaimed among the Jews, was not only law, but theology, and indeed syncretistic theology. On the other hand, the temple service and the sacrificial system had begun to lose their hold in certain influential circles.[430] We have pointed out above (Presupp. §§. 1. 2. 5) how great were the diversities of Jewish sects, and that there was in the Diaspora, as well as in Palestine itself, a Judaism which, on the one hand, followed ascetic impulses, and on the other, advanced to a criticism of the religious tradition without giving up the national claims. It may even be said that in theology the boundaries between the orthodox Judaism of the Pharisees and a syncretistic Judaism were of an elastic kind. Although religion, in those circles, seemed to be fixed in its legal aspect, yet on its theological side it was ready to admit very diverse speculations, in which angelic powers especially played a great rôle.[431] That introduced into Jewish monotheism an element of differentiation, the results of which were far-reaching. The field was prepared for the formation of syncretistic sects. They present themselves to us on the soil of the earliest Christianity, in the speculations of those Jewish Christian teachers who are opposed in the Epistle to the Colossians, and in the Gnosis of Cerinthus (see above, p. 246). Here cosmological ideas and myths were turned to profit. The idea of God was sublimated by both. In consequence of this, the Old Testament records were subjected to criticism, because they could not in all respects be reconciled with the universal religion which hovered before men's minds. This criticism was opposed to the Pauline in so far as it maintained, with the common Jewish Christians, and Christendom as a whole, that the genuine Old Testament religion was essentially identical with the Christian. But while those common Jewish Christians drew from this the inference that the whole of the Old Testament must be adhered to in its traditional sense and in all its ordinances, and while the larger Christendom secured for itself the whole of the Old Testament by deviating from the ordinary interpretation, those syncretistic Jewish Christians separated from the Old Testament, as interpolations, whatever did not agree with their purer moral conceptions and borrowed speculations. Thus, in particular, they got rid of the sacrificial ritual, and all that was connected with it, by putting ablutions in their place. First the profanation, and afterwards, the abolition of the temple worship, after the destruction of Jerusalem, may have given another new and welcome impulse to this by coming to be regarded as its Divine confirmation (Presupp. § 2). Christianity now appeared as purified Mosaism. In these Jewish Christian undertakings we have undoubtedly before us a series of peculiar attempts to elevate the Old Testament religion into the universal one, under the impression of the person of Jesus; attempts, however, in which the Jewish religion, and not the Jewish people, was to bear the costs by curtailment of its distinctive features. The great inner affinity of these attempts with the Gentile Christian Gnostics has already been set forth. The firm partition wall between them, however, lies in the claim of these Jewish Christians to set forth the pure Old Testament religion, as well as in the national Jewish colouring which the constructed universal religion was always to preserve. This national colouring is shewn in the insistence upon a definite measure of Jewish national ceremonies as necessary to salvation, and in the opposition to the Apostle Paul, which united the Gnostic Judæo-Christians with the common type, those of the strict observance. How the latter were related to the former, we do not know, for the inner relations here are almost completely unknown to us.[432] Apart from the false doctrines opposed in the Epistle to the Colossians, and from Cerinthus, this syncretistic Jewish Christianity which aimed at making itself a universal religion, meets us in tangible form only in three phenomena:[433] in the Elkesaites of Hippolytus and Origen, in the Ebionites with their associates of Epiphanius, sects very closely connected, in fact to be viewed as one party of manifold shades,[434] and in the activity of Symmachus.[435] We observe here a form of religion as far removed from that of the Old Testament as from the Gospel, subject to strong heathen influences, not Greek, but Asiatic, and scarcely deserving the name "Christian," because it appeals to a new revelation of God which is to complete that given in Christ. We should take particular note of this in judging of the whole remarkable phenomenon. The question in this Jewish Christianity is not the formation of a philosophic school, but to some extent the establishment of a kind of new religion, that is, the completion of that founded by Christ, undertaken by a particular person basing his claims on a revealed book which was delivered to him from heaven. This book which was to form the complement of the Gospel, possessed, from the third century, importance for all sections of Jewish Christians so far as they, in the phraseology of Epiphanius, were not Nazarenes.[436] The whole system reminds one of Samaritan Christian syncretism;[437] but we must be on our guard against identifying the two phenomena, or even regarding them as similar. These Elkesaite Jewish Christians held fast by the belief that Jesus was the Son of God, and saw in the "book" a revelation which proceeded from him. They did not offer any worship to their founder,[438] that is, to the receiver of the "book," and they were, as will be shewn, the most ardent opponents of Simonianism.[439] Alcibiades of Apamea, one of their disciples, came from the East to Rome about 220-230, and endeavoured to spread the doctrines of the sect in the Roman Church. He found the soil prepared, inasmuch as he could announce from the "book" forgiveness of sins to all sinful Christians, even the grossest transgressors, and such forgiveness was very much needed. Hippolytus opposed him, and had an opportunity of seeing the book and becoming acquainted with its contents. From his account and that of Origen we gather the following: (1) The sect is a Jewish Christian one, for it requires the [Greek: nomou politeia] (circumcision and the keeping of the Sabbath), and repudiates the Apostle Paul; but it criticises the Old Testament and rejects a part of it. (2) The objects of its faith are the "Great and most High God", the Son of God (the "Great King"), and the Holy Spirit (thought of as female); Son and Spirit appear as angelic powers. Considered outwardly, and according to his birth, Christ is a mere man, but with this peculiarity, that he has already been frequently born and manifested ([Greek: pollakis gennêthenta kai gennômenon pephênenai kai phuesthai, allassonta geneseis kai metensômatoumenon], cf. the testimony of Victorinus as to Symmachus). From the statements of Hippolytus we cannot be sure whether he was identified with the Son of God,[440] at any rate the assumption of repeated births of Christ shews how completely Christianity was meant to be identified with what was supposed to be the pure Old Testament religion. (3) The "book" proclaimed a new forgiveness of sin, which, on condition of faith in the "book" and a real change of mind, was to be bestowed on every one, through the medium of washings, accompanied by definite prayers which are strictly prescribed. In these prayers appear peculiar Semitic speculations about nature ("the seven witnesses: heaven, water, the holy spirits, the angels of prayer, oil, salt, earth"). The old Jewish way of thinking appears in the assumption that all kinds of sickness and misfortune are punishments for sin, and that these penalties must therefore be removed by atonement. The book contains also astrological and geometrical speculations in a religious garb. The main thing, however, was the possibility of a forgiveness of sin, ever requiring to be repeated, though Hippolytus himself was unable to point to any gross laxity. Still, the appearance of this sect represents the attempt to make the religion of Christian Judaism palatable to the world. The possibility of repeated forgiveness of sin, the speculations about numbers, elements, and stars, the halo of mystery, the adaptation to the forms of worship employed in the "mysteries", are worldly means of attraction which shew that this Jewish Christianity was subject to the process of acute secularization. The Jewish mode of life was to be adopted in return for these concessions. Yet its success in the West was of small extent and short-lived. Epiphanius confirms all these features, and adds a series of new ones. In his description, the new forgiveness of sin is not so prominent as in that of Hippolytus, but it is there. From the account of Epiphanius we can see that these syncretistic Judæo-Christian sects were at first strictly ascetic and rejected marriage as well as the eating of flesh, but that they gradually became more lax. We learn here that the whole sacrificial service was removed from the Old Testament by the Elkesaites and declared to be non-Divine, that is non-Mosaic, and that fire was consequently regarded as the impure and dangerous element, and water as the good one.[441] We learn further, that these sects acknowledged no prophets and men of God between Aaron and Christ, and that they completely adapted the Hebrew Gospel of Matthew to their own views.[442] In addition to this book, however, (the Gospel of the 12 Apostles), other writings, such as [Greek: Periodoi Petrou dia Klêmentos, Anabathmoi Iakôbou] and similar histories of Apostles, were held in esteem by them. In these writings the Apostles were represented as zealous ascetics, and, above all, as vegetarians, while the Apostle Paul was most bitterly opposed. They called him a Tarsene, said he was a Greek, and heaped on him gross abuse. Epiphanius also dwells strongly upon their Jewish mode of life (circumcision, Sabbath), as well as their daily washings,[443] and gives some information about the constitution and form of worship of these sects (use of baptism: Lord's Supper with bread and water). Finally, Epiphanius gives particulars about their Christology. On this point there were differences of opinion, and these differences prove that there was no Christological dogma. As among the common Jewish Christians, the birth of Jesus from the Virgin was a matter of dispute. Further, some identified Christ with Adam, others saw in him a heavenly being ([Greek: anôthen on]), a spiritual being, who was created before all, who was higher than all angels and Lord of all things, but who chose for himself the upper world; yet this Christ from above came down to this lower world as often as he pleased. He came in Adam, he appeared in human form to the patriarchs, and at last appeared on earth as a man with the body of Adam, suffered, etc. Others again, as it appears, would have nothing to do with these speculations, but stood by the belief that Jesus was the man chosen by God, on whom, on account of his virtue, the Holy Spirit--[Greek: hoper estin ho Christos]-- descended at the baptism.[444] (Epiph. h. 30. 3, 14, 16). The account which Epiphanius gives of the doctrine held by these Jewish Christians regarding the Devil, is specially instructive (h. 30. 16): [Greek: Duo de tinas sunistôsin ek theou tetagmenous, ena men ton Christon, ena de ton diabolon. kai ton men Christon legousi tou mellontos aiônos eilêphenai ton klêron, ton de diabolon touton pepisteusthai on aiôna, ek prostagês dêthen tou pantokratopos kata aitêsin ekaterôn autôn]. Here we have a very old Semitico-Hebraic idea preserved in a very striking way, and therefore we may probably assume that in other respects also, these Gnostic Ebionites preserved that which was ancient. Whether they did so in their criticism of the Old Testament, is a point on which we must not pronounce judgment. We might conclude by referring to the fact that this syncretistic Jewish Christianity, apart from a well-known missionary effort at Rome, was confined to Palestine and the neighbouring countries, and might consider it proved that this movement had no effect on the history and development of Catholicism,[445] were it not for two voluminous writings which still continue to be regarded as monuments of the earliest epoch of syncretistic Jewish Christianity. Not only did Baur suppose that he could prove his hypothesis about the origin of Catholicism by the help of these writings, but the attempt has recently been made on the basis of _the Pseudo-Clementine Recognitions and Homilies_, for these are the writings in question, to go still further and claim for Jewish Christianity the glory of having developed by itself the whole doctrine, worship and constitution of Catholicism, and of having transmitted it to Gentile Christianity as a finished product which only required to be divested of a few Jewish husks.[446] It is therefore necessary to subject these writings to a brief examination. Everything depends on the time of their origin, and the tendencies they follow. But these are just the two questions that are still unanswered. Without depreciating those worthy men who have earnestly occupied themselves with the Pseudo-Clementines,[447] it may be asserted, that in this region everything is as yet in darkness, especially as no agreement has been reached even in the question of their composition. No doubt such a result appears to have been pretty nearly arrived at as far as the time of composition is concerned, but that estimate (150-170, or the latter half of the second century) not only awakens the greatest suspicion, but can be proved to be wrong. The importance of the question for the history of dogma does not permit the historian to set it aside, while, on the other hand, the compass of a manual does not allow us to enter into an exhaustive investigation. The only course open in such circumstances is briefly to define one's own position. 1. The Recognitions and Homilies, in the form in which we have them, do not belong to the second century, but at the very earliest to the first half of the third. There is nothing, however, to prevent our putting them a few decades later.[448] 2. They were not composed in their present form by heretical Christians, but most probably by Catholics. Nor do they aim at forming a theological system,[449] or spreading the views of a sect. Their primary object is to oppose Greek polytheism, immoral mythology, and false philosophy, and thus to promote edification.[450] 3. In describing the authors as Catholic, we do not mean that they were adherents of the theology of Irenæus or Origen. The instructive point here rather, is that they had as yet no fixed theology, and therefore could without hesitation regard and use all possible material as means of edification. In like manner, they had no fixed conception of the Apostolic age, and could therefore appropriate motley and dangerous material. Such Christians, highly educated and correctly trained too, were still to be found, not only in the third century, but even later. But the authors do not seem to have been free from a bias, inasmuch as they did not favour the Catholic, that is, the Alexandrian apologetic theology which was in process of formation. 4. The description of the Pseudo-Clementine writings, naturally derived from their very form, as "edifying, didactic romances for the refutation of paganism", is not inconsistent with the idea, that the authors, at the same time, did their utmost to oppose heretical phenomena, especially the Marcionite church and Apelles, together with heresy and heathenism in general, as represented by Simon Magus. 5. The objectionable materials which the authors made use of were edifying for them, because of the position assigned therein to Peter, because of the ascetic and mysterious elements they contained, and the opposition offered to Simon, etc. The offensive features, so far as they were still contained in these sources, had already become unintelligible and harmless. They were partly conserved as such and partly removed. 6. The authors are to be sought for perhaps in Rome, perhaps in Syria, perhaps in both places, certainly not in Alexandria. 7. The main ideas are: (1) The monarchy of God. (2) the syzygies (weak and strong). (3) Prophecy (the true Prophet). (4) Stoical rationalism, belief in providence, good works. [Greek: Philanthrôpia], etc.--Mosaism. The Homilies are completely saturated with stoicism, both in their ethical and metaphysical systems, and are opposed to Platonism, though Plato is quoted in Hom. XV. 8, as [Greek: Hellênôn sophistia] (a wise man of the Greeks). In addition to these ideas we have also a strong hierarchical tendency. The material which the authors made use of was in great part derived from syncretistic Jewish Christian tradition, in other words, those histories of the Apostles were here utilised which Epiphanius reports to have been used by the Ebionites (see above). It is not probable, however, that these writings in their original form were in the hands of the narrators; the likelihood is that they made use of them in revised forms. 8. It must be reserved for an accurate investigation to ascertain whether those modified versions which betray clear marks of Hellenic origin, were made within syncretistic Judaism itself, or whether they are to be traced back to Catholic writers. In either case, they should not be placed earlier than about the beginning of the third century, but in all probability one or two generations later still. 9. If we adopt the first assumption, it is most natural to think of that propaganda which, according to the testimony of Hippolytus and Origen, Jewish Christianity attempted in Rome in the age of Caracalla and Heliogabalus, through the medium of the Syrian, Alcibiades. This coincides with the last great advance of Syrian cults into the West, and is, at the same time, the only one known to us historically. But it is further pretty generally admitted that the immediate sources of the Pseudo-Clementines already presuppose the existence of Elkesaite Christianity. We should accordingly have to assume that in the West, this Christianity made greater concessions to the prevailing type, that it gave up circumcision and accommodated itself to the Church system of Gentile Christianity, at the same time withdrawing its polemic against Paul. 10. Meanwhile the existence of such a Jewish Christianity is not as yet proved, and therefore we must reckon with the possibility that the remodelled form of the Jewish Christian sources, already found in existence by the revisers of the Pseudo-Clementine Romances, was solely a Catholic literary product. In this assumption, which commends itself both as regards the aim of the composition and its presupposed conditions, we must remember that, from the third century onwards, Catholic writers systematically corrected, and to a great extent reconstructed, the heretical histories which were in circulation in the churches as interesting reading, and that the extent and degree of this reconstruction varied exceedingly, according to the theological and historical insight of the writer. The identifying of pure Mosaism with Christianity was in itself by no means offensive when there was no further question of circumcision. The clear distinction between the ceremonial and moral parts of the Old Testament, could no longer prove an offence after the great struggle with Gnosticism.[451] The strong insistence upon the unity of God, and the rejection of the doctrine of the Logos, were by no means uncommon in the beginning of the third century; and in the speculations about Adam and Christ, in the views about God and the world and such, like, as set before us in the immediate sources of the Romances, the correct and edifying elements must have seemed to outweigh the objectionable. At any rate, the historian who, until further advised, denies the existence of a Jewish Christianity composed of the most contradictory elements, lacking circumcision and national hopes, and bearing marks of Catholic and therefore of Hellenic influence, judges more prudently than he who asserts, solely on the basis of Romances which are accompanied by no tradition and have never been the objects of assault, the existence of a Jewish Christianity accommodating itself to Catholicism which is entirely unattested. 11. Be that as it may, it may at least be regarded as certain that the Pseudo-Clementines contribute absolutely nothing to our knowledge of the origin of the Catholic Church and doctrine, as they shew at best in their immediate sources a Jewish Christianity strongly influenced by Catholicism and Hellenism. 12. They must be used with great caution even in seeking to determine the tendencies and inner history of syncretistic Jewish Christianity. It cannot be made out with certainty, how far back the first sources of the Pseudo-Clementines date, or what their original form and tendency were. As to the first point, it has indeed been said that Justin, nay, even the author of the Acts of the Apostles, presupposes them, and that the Catholic tradition of Peter, in Rome, and of Simon Magus, are dependent on them (as is still held by Lipsius); but there is so little proof of this adduced, that in Christian literature up to the end of the second century (Hegesippus?) we can only discover very uncertain traces of acquaintance with Jewish Christian historical narrative. Such indications can only be found, to any considerable extent, in the third century, and I do not mean to deny that the contents of the Jewish Christian histories of the Apostles contributed materially to the formation of the ecclesiastical legends about Peter. As is shewn in the Pseudo-Clementines, these histories of the Apostles especially opposed Simon Magus and his adherents (the new Samaritan attempt at a universal religion), and placed the authority of the Apostle Peter against them. But they also opposed the Apostle Paul, and seem to have transferred Simonian features to Paul, and Pauline features to Simon. Yet it is also possible that the Pauline traits found in the magician were the outcome of the redaction, in so far as the whole polemic against Paul is here struck out, though certain parts of it have been woven into the polemic against Simon. But probably the Pauline features of the magician are merely an appearance. The Pseudo-Clementines may, to some extent, be used, though with caution, in determining the doctrines of syncretistic Jewish Christianity. In connection with this we must take what Epiphanius says as our standard. The Pantheistic and Stoic elements which are found here and there must of course be eliminated. But the theory of the genesis of the world from a change in God himself (that is from a [Greek: probolê]), the assumption that all things emanated from God in antitheses (Son of God--Devil; heaven--earth; male--female; male and female prophecy), nay, that these antitheses are found in God himself (goodness, to which corresponds the Son of God--punitive justice, to which corresponds the Devil), the speculations about the elements which have proceeded from the one substance, the ignoring of freedom in the question about the origin of evil, the strict adherence to the unity and absolute causality of God, in spite of the dualism, and in spite of the lofty predicates applied to the Son of God--all this plainly bears the Semitic-Jewish stamp. We must here content ourselves with these indications. They were meant to set forth briefly the reasons which forbid our assigning to syncretistic Jewish Christianity, on the basis of the Pseudo- Clementines, a place in the history of the genesis of the Catholic Church and its doctrine. Bigg, The Clementine Homilies (Studia Biblica et Eccles. II. p. 157 ff.), has propounded the hypothesis that the Homilies are an Ebionitic revision of an older Catholic original (see p. 1841: "The Homilies as we have it, is a recast of an orthodox work by a highly unorthodox editor." P. 175: "The Homilies are surely the work of a Catholic convert to Ebionitism, who thought he saw in the doctrine of the two powers the only tenable answer to Gnosticism. We can separate his Catholicism from his Ebionitism, just as surely as his Stoicism"). This is the opposite of the view expressed by me in the text. I consider Bigg's hypothesis well worth examining, and at first sight not improbable; but I am not able to enter into it here. [Footnote 403: The attitude of the recently discovered "Teaching of the twelve Apostles" is strictly universalistic, and hostile to Judaism as a nation, but shews us a Christianity still essentially uninfluenced by philosophic elements. The impression made by this fact has caused some scholars to describe the treatise as a document of Jewish Christianity. But the attitude of the Didache is rather the ordinary one of universalistic early Christianity on the soil of the Græco-Roman world. If we describe this as Jewish Christian, then from the meaning which we must give to the words "Christian" and "Gentile Christian", we tacitly legitimise an undefined and undefinable aggregate of Greek ideas, along with a specifically Pauline element, as primitive Christianity, and this is perhaps not the intended, but yet desired, result of the false terminology. Now, if we describe even such writings as the Epistle of James and the Shepherd of Hermas as Jewish Christian, we therewith reduce the entire early Christianity, which is the creation of a universal religion on the soil of Judaism, to the special case of an indefinable religion. The same now appears as one of the particular values of a completely indeterminate magnitude. Hilgenfeld (Judenthum und Juden-christenthum, 1886; cf. also Ztschr f. wiss. Theol. 1886, II. 4) advocates another conception of Jewish Christianity in opposition to the following account. Zahn, Gesch. des N.T-lich. Kanons, II. p. 668 ff. has a different view still.] [Footnote 404: Or even Ebionitism; the designations are to be used as synonymous.] [Footnote 405: The more rarely the right standard has been set up in the literature of Church history, for the distinction of Jewish Christianity, the more valuable are those writings in which it is found. We must refer, above all, to Diestel, Geschichte des A. T. in der Christl. Kirche, p. 44, note 7.] [Footnote 406: See Theol. Lit. Ztg. 1883. Col. 409 f. as to the attempt of Joël to make out that the whole of Christendom up to the end of the first century was strictly Jewish Christian, and to exhibit the complete friendship of Jews and Christians in that period ("Blicke in die Religionsgesch." 2 Abth. 1883). It is not improbable that Christians like James, living in strict accordance with the law, were for the time being respected even by the Pharisees in the period preceding the destruction of Jerusalem. But that can in no case have been the rule. We see from, Epiph., h. 29. 9. and from the Talmud, what was the custom at a later period.] [Footnote 407: There were Jewish Christians who represented the position of the great Church with reference to the Old Testament religion, and there were some who criticised the Old Testament like the Gnostics. Their contention may have remained as much an internal one, as that between the Church Fathers and Gnostics (Marcion) did, so far as Jewish Christianity is concerned. There may have been relations between Gnostic Jewish Christians and Gnostics, not of a national Jewish type, in Syria and Asia Minor, though we are completely in the dark on the matter.] [Footnote 408: From the mere existence of Jewish Christians, those Christians who rejected the Old Testament might have argued against the main body of Christendom and put before it the dilemma: either Jewish Christian or Marcionite. Still more logical indeed was the dilemma: either Jewish, or Marcionite Christian.] [Footnote 409: So did the Montanists and Antimontanists mutually reproach each other with Judaising (see the Montanist writings of Tertullian). Just in the same way the arrangements as to worship and organisation, which were ever being more richly developed, were described by the freer parties as Judaising, because they made appeal to the Old Testament, though, as regards their contents, they had little in common with Judaism. But is not the method of claiming Old Testament authority for the regulations rendered necessary by circumstances nearly as old as Christianity itself? Against whom the lost treatise of Clement of Alexandria "[Greek: kanôn ekklêsiastikos hê pros tous Ioudaizontas]" (Euseb., H. E. VI. 13. 3) was directed, we cannot tell. But as we read, Strom., VI. 15, 125, that the Holy Scriptures are to be expounded according to the [Greek: ekklêsiastikos kanôn], and then find the following definition of the Canon: [Greek: kanôn de ekklêsiastikos hê sunôdia kai sumphônia nomon te kai prophêtôn tê kata tên tou kuriou parousian paradidomenêi diathêkêi], we may conjecture that the Judaisers were those Christians, who, in principle, or to some extent, objected to the allegorical interpretation of the Old Testament. We have then to think either of Marcionite Christians or of "Chiliasts," that is, the old Christians who were still numerous in Egypt about the middle of the third century (see Dionys. Alex, in Euseb., H. E. VII. 24). In the first case, the title of the treatise would be paradoxical. But perhaps the treatise refers to the Quarto-decimans, although the expression [Greek: kanôn ekklêsiastikos] seems too ponderous for them (see, however, Orig., Comm. in Matth. n. 76, ed. Delarue III. p. 895) Clement may possibly have had Jewish Christians before him. See Zahn, Forschungen, vol. III. p. 37 f.] [Footnote 410: Cases of this kind are everywhere, up to the fifth century, so numerous that they need not be cited. We may only remind the reader that the Nestorian Christology was described by its earliest and its latest opponents as Ebionitic.] [Footnote 411: Or were those western Christians Ebionitic who, in the fourth century still clung to very realistic Chiliastic hopes, who, in fact, regarded their Christianity as consisting in these?] [Footnote 412: The hellenising of Christianity went hand in hand with a more extensive use of the Old Testament; for, according to the principles of Catholicism, every new article of the Church system must be able to legitimise itself as springing from revelation. But, as a rule, the attestation could only be gathered from the Old Testament, since religion here appears in the fixed form of a secular community. Now the needs of a secular community for outward regulations gradually became so strong in the Church as to require palpable ceremonial rules. But it cannot be denied, that from a certain point of time, first by means of the fiction of Apostolic constitutions (see my edition of the Didache, Prolegg. p. 239 ff.), and then without this fiction, not, however, as a rule, without reservations, ceremonial regulations were simply taken over from the Old Testament. But this transference (See Bk. II.) takes place at a time when there can be absolutely no question of an influence of Jewish Christianity. Moreover, it always proves itself to be catholic by the fact that it did not in the least soften the traditional anti-Judaism. On the contrary, it attained its full growth in the age of Constantine. Finally, it should not be overlooked that at all times in antiquity, certain provincial churches were exposed to Jewish influences, especially in the East and in Arabia, that they were therefore threatened with being Judaised, or with apostasy to Judaism, and that even at the present day, certain Oriental Churches shew tokens of having once been subject to Jewish influences (see Serapion in Euseb, H. E. VI. 12. 1, Martyr. Pion., Epiph. de mens. et pond. 15. 18; my Texte u. Unters. I. 3. p. 73 f., and Wellhausen, Skizzen und Vorarbeiten, Part. 3. p. 197 ff.; actual disputations with Jews do not seem to have been common, though see Tertull. adv. Jud. and Orig. c. Cels. I. 45, 49, 55: II. 31. Clement also keeps in view Jewish objections.) This Jewish Christianity, if we like to call it so, which in some regions of the East was developed through an immediate influence of Judaism on Catholicism, should not, however, be confounded with the Jewish Christianity which is the most original form in which Christianity realised itself. This was no longer able to influence the Christianity which had shaken itself free from the Jewish nation (as to futile attempts, see below), any more than the protecting covering stripped from the new shoot, can ever again acquire significance for the latter.] [Footnote 413: What is called the ever-increasing legal feature of Gentile Christianity and the Catholic Church is conditioned by its origin, in so far as its theory is rooted in that of Judaism spiritualised and influenced by Hellenism. As the Pauline conception of the law never took effect and a criticism of the Old Testament religion which is just law neither understood nor ventured upon in the larger Christendom--the forms were not criticised, but the contents spiritualised--so the theory that Christianity is promise and spiritual law is to be regarded as the primitive one. Between the spiritual law and the national law there stand indeed ceremonial laws, which, without being spiritually interpreted, could yet be freed from the national application. It cannot be denied that the Gentile Christian communities and the incipient Catholic Church were very careful and reserved in their adoption of such laws from the Old Testament, and that the later Church no longer observed this caution. But still it is only a question of degree for there are many examples of that adoption in the earliest period of Christendom. The latter had no cause for hurry in utilizing the Old Testament so long as there was no external or internal policy or so long as it was still in embryo. The decisive factor lies here again in enthusiasm and not in changing theories. The basis for these was supplied from the beginning. But a community of individuals under spiritual excitement builds on this foundation something different from an association which wishes to organise and assert itself as such on earth. (The history of Sunday is specially instructive here, see Zahn, Gesch. des Sonntags, 1878, as well as the history of the discipline of fasting, see Linsenmayr, Entwickelung der Kirchl Fastendisciplin, 1877, and Die Abgabe des Zehnten. In general, Cf. Ritschl Entstehung der Altkath Kirche 2 edit. pp. 312 ff., 331 ff., 1 Cor. IX. 9, may be noted).] [Footnote 414: Justin. Apol. I. 53, Dial. 47, Euseb. H. E. IV. 5, Sulpic Sev. Hist. Sacr. II. 31, Cyrill. Catech. XIV. 15. Important testimonies in Origen, Eusebius, Epiphanius and Jerome.] [Footnote 415: No Jewish Christian writings have been transmitted to us even from the earliest period, for the Apocalypse of John, which describes the Jews as a synagogue of Satan, is not a Jewish Christian book (III. 9 especially shews that the author knows of only one covenant of God, viz. that with the Christians). Jewish Christian sources lie at the basis of our synoptic Gospels, but none of them in their present form is a Jewish Christian writing. The Acts of the Apostles is so little Jewish Christian, its author seemingly so ignorant of Jewish Christianity, at least so unconcerned with regard to it that to him the spiritualised Jewish law, or Judaism as a religion which he connects as closely as possible with Christianity, is a factor already completely detached from the Jewish people (see Overbeck's Commentar z Apostelgesch and his discussion in the Ztschr f wiss. Theol. 1872 p. 305 ff.) Measured by the Pauline theology we may indeed, with Overbeck, say of the Gentile Christianity, as represented by the author of the Acts of the Apostles, that it already has germs of Judaism, and represents a falling off from Paulinism; but these expressions are not correct, because they have at least the appearance of making Paulinism the original form of Gentile Christianity. But as this can neither be proved nor believed, the religious attitude of the author of the Acts of the Apostles must have been a very old one in Christendom. The Judaistic element was not first introduced into Gentile Christianity by the opponents of Paul, who indeed wrought in the national sense, and there is even nothing to lead to the hypothesis that the common Gentile Christian view of the Old Testament and of the law should be conceived as resulting from the efforts of Paul and his opponents, for the consequent effect here would either have been null, or a strengthening of the Jewish Christian thesis. The Jewish element, that is the total acceptance of the Jewish religion _sub specie aeternitatis et Christi_, is simply the original Christianity of the Gentile Christians itself considered as theory. Contrary to his own intention, Paul was compelled to lead his converts to this Christianity, for only for such Christianity was "the time fulfilled" within the empire of the world. The Acts of the Apostles gives eloquent testimony to the pressing difficulties which under such circumstances stand in the way of a historical understanding of the Gentile Christians in view of the work and the theology of Paul. Even the Epistle to the Hebrews is not a Jewish Christian writing, but there is certainly a peculiar state of things connected with this document. For, on the one hand, the author and his readers are free from the law; a spiritual interpretation is given to the Old Testament religion, which makes it appear to be glorified and fulfilled in the work of Christ; and there is no mention of any prerogative of the people of Israel. But, on the other hand, because the spiritual interpretation, as in Paul, is here teleological, the author allows a temporary significance to the cultus as literally understood, and therefore, by his criticism he conserves the Old Testament religion for the past, while declaring that it was set aside, as regards the present, by the fulfilment of Christ. The teleology of the author, however, looks at everything only from the point of view of shadow and reality, an antithesis which is at the service of Paul also, but which in his case vanishes behind the antithesis of law and grace. This scheme of thought, which is to be traced back to a way of looking at things which arose in Christian Judaism, seeing that it really distinguishes between old and new, stands midway between the conception of the Old Testament religion entertained by Paul, and that of the common Gentile Christian as it is represented by Barnabas. The author of the Epistle to the Hebrews undoubtedly knows of a twofold covenant of God. But the two are represented as stages, so that the second is completely based on the first. This view was more likely to be understood by the Gentile Christians than the Pauline, that is, with some seemingly slight changes, to be recognised as their own. But even it at first fell to the ground, and it was only in the conflict with the Marcionites that some Church Fathers advanced to views which seem to be related to those of the Epistle to the Hebrews. Whether the author of this Epistle was a born Jew or a Gentile--in the former case he would far surpass the Apostle Paul in his freedom from the national claims--we cannot, at any rate, recognise in it a document containing a conception which still prizes the Jewish nationality in Christianity, nay, not even a document to prove that such a conception was still dangerous. Consequently, we have no Jewish Christian memorial in the New Testament at all, unless it be in the Pauline Epistles. But as concerns the early Christian literature outside the Canon, the fragments of the great work of Hegesippus are even yet by some investigators claimed for Jewish Christianity. Weizsäcker (Art "Hegesippus" in Herzog's R. E. 2 edit) has shewn how groundless this assumption is. That Hegesippus occupied the common Gentile Christian position is certain from unequivocal testimony of his own. If, as is very improbable, we were obliged to ascribe to him a rejection of Paul, we should have to refer to Eusebius, H. E. IV. 29. 5. ([Greek: Seuêrianoi blasphêmountes Paulon ton apostolon athetousin autou tas epistolas mêde tas praxeis tôn apostolôn katadechomenoi], but probably the Gospels; these Severians therefore, like Marcion, recognised the Gospel of Luke, but rejected the Acts of the Apostles), and Orig. c. Cels. V. 65: ([Greek: eisi gar tines haireseis tas Paulou epistolas tou apostolou mê prosiemenai hôsper Ebiônaioi amphoteroi kai hoi kaloumenoi Enkratêtai]). Consequently, our only sources of knowledge of Jewish Christianity in the post-Pauline period are merely the accounts of the Church Fathers, and some additional fragments (see the collection of fragments of the Ebionite Gospel and that to the Hebrews in Hilgenfeld, Nov. Test, extra can. rec. fasc. IV. Ed 2, and in Zahn, l. c. II. p 642 ff.). We know better, but still very imperfectly, certain forms of the syncretistic Jewish Christianity, from the Philosoph. of Hippolytus and the accounts of Epiphanius, who is certainly nowhere more incoherent than in the delineation of the Jewish Christians, because he could not copy original documents here, but was forced to piece together confused traditions with his own observations. See below on the extensive documents which are even yet as they stand, treated as records of Jewish Christianity, viz., the Pseudo-Clementines. Of the pieces of writing whose Jewish Christian origin is controverted, in so far as they may be simply Jewish, I say nothing.] [Footnote 416: As to the chief localities where Jewish Christians were found, see Zahn, Kanonsgesch. II. p. 648 ff.] [Footnote 417: Dialogue 47.] [Footnote 418: Yet it should be noted that the Christians who, according to Dial. 48, denied the pre-existence of Christ and held him to be a man, are described as Jewish Christians. We should read in the passage in question, as my recent comparison of the Parisian codex shews, [Greek: apo tou umeterou genous]. Yet Justin did not make this a controversial point of great moment.] [Footnote 419: The so-called Barnabas is considerably older than Justin. In his Epistle (4. 6) he has in view Gentile Christians who have been converted by Jewish Christians, when he utters a warning against those who say [Greek: hoti a diathêkê ekeinon] (the Jews) [Greek: kai hêmôn (estin)]. But how great the actual danger was cannot be gathered from the Epistle. Ignatius in two Epistles (ad Magn. 8-10, ad Philad. 6. 9) opposes Jewish Christian intrigues, and characterises them solely from the point of view that they mean to introduce the Jewish observance of the law. He opposes them with a Pauline idea (Magn. 8 1: [Greek: ei gar mechri nun kata nomon. Ioudaismon zômen homologoumen charin mê eilêphenai]), as well as with the common Gentile Christian assumption that the prophets themselves had already lived [Greek: kata Christon]. These Judaists must be strictly distinguished from the Gnostics whom Ignatius elsewhere opposes (against Zahn, Ignat. v. Ant. p. 356 f.). The dangers from this Jewish Christianity cannot have been very serious, even if we take Magn. 11. 1, as a phrase. There was an active Jewish community in Philadelphia (Rev. III. 9), and so Jewish Christian plots may have continued longer there. At the first look it seems very promising that in the old dialogue of Aristo of Pella, a Hebrew Christian, Jason, is put in opposition to the Alexandrian Jew, Papiscus. But as the history of the little book proves, this Jason must have essentially represented the common Christian and not the Ebionite conception of the Old Testament and its relation to the Gospel, etc; see my Texte u. Unters. I. 1 2. p. 115 ff.; I. 3 p. 115-130. Testimony as to an apostasy to Judaism is occasionally though rarely given; see Serapion in Euseb., H. E. VI. 12, who addresses a book to one Domninus, [Greek: ekpeptôkota para ton tou diôgmou kairon apo tês eis Christon pisteôs epi tên Ioudaikên ethelothrêskeian]; see also Acta Pionii, 13. 14. According to Epiphanius, de mens. et pond. 14, 15, Acquila, the translator of the Bible, was first a Christian and then a Jew. This account is perhaps derived from Origen, and is probably reliable. Likewise according to Epiphanius (l. c. 17. 18), Theodotion was first a Marcionite and then a Jew. The transition from Marcionitism to Judaism (for extremes meet) is not in itself incredible.] [Footnote 420: It follows from c. Cels II. 1-3, that Celsus could hardly have known Jewish Christians.] [Footnote 421: Iren. I. 26. 2; III 11. 7; III. 15. 1, 21. 1; IV. 33. 4; V. 1. 3. We first find the name Ebionæi, the poor, in Irenæus. We are probably entitled to assume that this name was given to the Christians in Jerusalem as early as the Apostolic age, that is, they applied it to themselves (poor in the sense of the prophets and of Christ, fit to be received into the Messianic kingdom). It is very questionable whether we should put any value on Epiph. h. 30. 17.] [Footnote 422: When Irenæus adduces as the points of distinction between the Church and the Ebionites, that besides observing the law and repudiating the Apostle Paul, the latter deny the Divinity of Christ and his birth from the Virgin, and reject the New Testament Canon (except the Gospel of Matthew), that only proves that the formation of dogma has made progress in the Church. The less was known of the Ebionites from personal observation, the more confidently they were made out to be heretics who denied the Divinity of Christ and rejected the Canon. The denial of the Divinity of Christ and the birth from the Virgin was, from the end of the second century, regarded as the Ebionite heresy _par excellence_, and the Ebionites themselves appeared to the Western Christians, who obtained their information solely from the East, to be a school like those of the Gnostics, founded by a scoundrel named Ebion for the purpose of dragging down the person of Jesus to the common level. It is also mentioned incidentally, that this Ebion had commanded the observance of circumcision and the Sabbath; but that is no longer the main thing (see Tertull, de carne 14, 18, 24: de virg. vel. 6: de præscr. 10. 33; Hippol, Syntagma, (Pseudo-Tertull, 11; Philastr. 37; Epiph. h. 30); Hippol, Philos. VII. 34. The latter passage contains the instructive statement that Jesus by his perfect keeping of the law became the Christ). This attitude of the Western Christians proves that they no longer knew Jewish Christian communities. Hence it is all the more strange that Hilgenfeld (Ketzergesch. p. 422 ff.) has in all earnestness endeavoured to revive the Ebion of the Western Church Fathers.] [Footnote 423: See Orig. c. Cels II. 1; V. 61, 65; de princip. IV. 22; hom. in Genes. III. 15 (Opp. II. p. 65); hom. in Jerem XVII. 12 (III. p. 254); in Matth. T. XVI. 12 (III. p. 494), T. XVII. 12 (III. p. 733); cf. Opp. III. p. 895; hom in XVII. (III. p. 952). That a portion of the Ebionites recognised the birth from the Virgin was according to Origen frequently attested. That was partly reckoned to them for righteousness and partly not, because they would not admit the pre-existence of Christ. The name "Ebionites" is interpreted as a nickname given them by the Church ("beggarly" in the knowledge of scripture, and particularly of Christology).] [Footnote 424: Eusebius knows no more than Origen (H. E. III. 27), unless we specially credit him with the information that the Ebionites keep along with the Sabbath also the Sunday. What he says of Symmachus, the translator of the Bible, and an Ebionite, is derived from Origen (H. E. VI. 17). The report is interesting, because it declares that Symmachus _wrote_ against Catholic Christianity, especially against the Catholic Gospel of Matthew (about the year 200). But Symmachus is to be classed with the Gnostics, and not with the common type of Jewish Christianity (see below). We have also to thank Eusebius (H. E. III. 5. 3) for the information that the Christians of Jerusalem fled to Pella, in Peræa, before the destruction of that city. In the following period the most important settlements of the Ebionites must have been in the countries east of the Jordan, and in the heart of Syria (see Jul. Afric. in Euseb. H. E. I. 7. 14; Euseb. de loc. hebr. in Lagarde, Onomast p. 301; Epiph., h. 29. 7; h. 30. 2). This fact explains how the bishops in Jerusalem and the coast towns of Palestine came to see very little of them. There was a Jewish Christian community in Beroea with which Jerome had relations (Jerom., de Vir inl 3).] [Footnote 425: Jerome correctly declares (Ep. ad. August. 122 c. 13, Opp. I. p. 746), "(Ebionitæ) credentes in Christo propter hoc solum a patribus anathematizati sunt, quod legis cæremonias Christi evangelio miscuerunt, et sic nova confessi sunt, ut vetera non omitterent."] [Footnote 426: Ep. ad August. l. c.: "Quid dicam de Hebionitis, qui Christianos esse se simulant? usque hodie per totas orientis synagogas inter Judæos(!) hæresis est, que dicitur Minæorum et a Pharisæis nunc usque damnatur, quos vulgo Nazaræos nuncupant, qui credunt in Christum filium dei natum de Virgine Maria et eum dicunt esse, qui sub pontio Pilato passus est et resurrexit, in quem et nos credimus; sed dum volunt et Judæi esse et Christiani, nec Judæi sunt nec Christiani." The approximation of the Jewish Christian conception to that of the Catholics shews itself also in their exposition of Isaiah IX. 1. f. (see Jerome on the passage). But we must not forget that there were such Jewish Christians from the earliest times. It is worthy of note that the name Nazarenes, as applied to Jewish Christians, is found in the Acts of the Apostles XXIV. 5, in the Dialogue of Jason and Papiscus, and then first again in Jerome.] [Footnote 427: Zahn, l. c. p. 648 ff. 668 ff. has not convinced me of the contrary, but I confess that Jerome's style of expression is not everywhere clear.] [Footnote 428: Zahn, (l. c.) makes a sharp distinction between the Nazarenes, on the one side, who used the Gospel of the Hebrews, acknowledged the birth from the Virgin, and in fact the higher Christology to some extent, did not repudiate Paul, etc., and the Ebionites on the other, whom he simply identifies with the Gnostic Jewish Christians, if I am not mistaken. In opposition to this, I think I must adhere to the distinction as given above in the text and in the following: (1) Non-Gnostic, Jewish Christians (Nazarenes, Ebionites) who appeared in various shades, according to their doctrine and attitude to the Gentile Church, and whom, with the Church Fathers, we may appropriately classify as strict or tolerant (exclusive or liberal). (2) Gnostic or syncretistic Judæo-Christians who are also termed Ebionites.] [Footnote 429: This Gospel no doubt greatly interested the scholars of the Catholic Church from Clement of Alexandria onwards. But they have almost all contrived to evade the hard problem which it presented. It may be noted, incidentally, that the Gospel of the Hebrews, to judge from the remains preserved to us, can neither have been the model nor the translation of our Matthew, but a work independent of this, though drawing from the same sources, representing perhaps to some extent an earlier stage of the tradition. Jerome also knew very well that the Gospel of the Hebrews was not the original of the canonical Matthew, but he took care not to correct the old prejudice. Ebionitic conceptions, such as that of the female nature of the Holy Spirit, were of course least likely to convince the Church Fathers. Moreover, the common Jewish Christians hardly possessed a Church theology, because for them Christianity was something entirely different from the doctrine of a school. On the Gospel of the Hebrews, see Handmann (Texte u. Unters V. 3), Resch, Agrapha (I. c. V. 4), and Zahn, 1. c. p. 642 ff.] [Footnote 430: We have as yet no history of the sacrificial system, and the views as to sacrifice in the Græco-Roman epoch, of the Jewish Nation. It is urgently needed.] [Footnote 431: We may remind readers of the assumptions, that the world was created by angels, that the law was given by angels, and similar ones which are found in the theology of the Pharisees Celsus (in Orig. I. 26; V. 6) asserts generally that the Jews worshipped angels, so does the author of the Prædicatio Petri, as well as the apologist Aristides. Cf Joel, Blicke in die Religionsgesch I. Abth, a book which is certainly to be used with caution (see Theol. Lit. Ztg. 1881. Coll. 184 ff.).] [Footnote 432: No reliance can be placed on Jewish sources, or on Jewish scholars, as a rule. What we find in Joël, l. c. I. Abth. p. 101 ff. is instructive. We may mention Grätz, Gnosticismus und Judenthum (Krotoschin, 1846), who has called attention to the Gnostic elements in the Talmud, and dealt with several Jewish Gnostics and Antignostics, as well as with the book of Jezira. Grätz assumes that the four main dogmatic points in the book Jezira, viz., the strict unity of the deity, and, at the same time, the negation of the demiurgic dualism, the creation out of nothing with the negation of matter, the systematic unity of the world and the balancing of opposites, were directed against prevailing Gnostic ideas.] [Footnote 433: We may pass over the false teachers of the Pastoral Epistles, as they cannot be with certainty determined, and the possibility is not excluded that we have here to do with an arbitrary construction; see Holtzman, Pastoralbriefe, p. 150 f.] [Footnote 434: Orig. in Euseb. VI. 38; Hippol., Philos. IX. 13 ff., X. 29; Epiph., h. 30, also h. 19, 53; Method, Conviv. VIII. 10. From the confused account of Epiphanius who called the common Jewish Christians Nazarenes, the Gnostic type Ebionites and Sampsæi, and their Jewish forerunners Osseni, we may conclude, that in many regions where there were Jewish Christians they yielded to the propaganda of the Elkesaite doctrines, and that in the fourth century there was no other syncretistic Jewish Christianity besides the various shades of Elkesaites.] [Footnote 435: I formerly reckoned Symmachus, the translator of the Bible, among the common Jewish Christians; but the statements of Victorinus Rhetor on Gal. I. 19. II. 26 (Migne T. VIII. Col. 1155, 1162) shew that he has a close affinity with the Pseudo-Clementines, and is also to be classed with the Elkesaite Alcibiades. "Nam Jacobum apostolum Symmachiani faciunt quasi duodecimum et hunc secuntur, qui ad dominum nostrum Jesum Christum adjungunt Judaismi observationem, quamquam etiam Jesum Christum fatentur; dicunt enim eum ipsum Adam esse et esse animam generalem, et aliæ hujusmodi blasphemiæ." The account given by Eusebius, H. E. VI. 17 (probably on the authority of Origen, see also Demonstr. VII. I) is important: [Greek: Tôn ge men hermêneutôn autôn dê toutôn histeon, Ebiônaion ton Summachon gegonenai ... kai hupomnêmata de tou Summachou eiseti nun pheretai, hen ois dokei pros to kata Matuaion apoteinomenos euaggelion tên dedêlômenên airesin kratunein.] Symmachus therefore adopted an aggressive attitude towards the great Church, and hence we may probably class him with Alcibiades who lived a little later. Common Jewish Christianity was no longer aggressive in the second century.] [Footnote 436: Wellhausen (l. c. Part III. p. 206) supposes that Elkesai is equivalent to Alexius. That the receiver of the "book" was a historical person is manifest from Epiphanius' account of his descendants (h. 19. 2; 53. 1). From Hipp, Philosoph. IX. 16, p. 468, it is certainly probable, though not certain, that the book was produced by the unknown author as early as the time of Trajan. On the other hand, the existence of the sect itself can be proved only at the beginning of the third century, and therefore we have the possibility of an ante-dating of the "book." This seems to have been Origen's opinion.] [Footnote 437: Epiph. (h. 53. 1) says of the Elkesaites: [Greek: oute christianoi huparchontes oute Ioudaioi oute Ellênes, alla meson aplôs uparchontes.] He pronounces a similar judgment as to the Samaritan sects (Simonians), and expressly (h. 30. 1) connects the Elkesaites with them.] [Footnote 438: The worship paid to the descendants of this Elkesai, spoken of by Epiphanius, does not, if we allow for exaggerations, go beyond the measure of honour which was regularly paid to the descendants of prophets and men of God in the East. Cf. the respect enjoyed by the blood relations of Jesus and Mohammed.] [Footnote 439: If the "book" really originated in the time of Trajan, then its production keeps within the frame-work of common Christianity, for at that time there were appearing everywhere in Christendom revealed books which contained new instructions and communications of grace. The reader may be reminded, for example, of the Shepherd of Hermas. When the sect declared that the "book" was delivered to Elkesai by a male and a female angel, each as large as a mountain, that these angels were the Son of God and the Holy Spirit, etc., we have, apart from the fantastic colouring, nothing extraordinary.] [Footnote 440: It may be assumed from Philos. X. 29, that, in the opinion of Hippolytus, the Elkesaites identified the Christ from above with the Son of God, and assumed that this Christ appeared on earth in changing and purely human forms, and will appear again ([Greek: auton metangizomenon en sômasi pollois pollakis, kai nun de en tô Iêsou, homoiôs pote men ek tou theou gegenêsthai, pote de pneuma gegonenai, pote de ek parthenou, pote de ou kai toutou de metepeita aei en sômati metangizesthai kai en pollois kata kairous deiknusthai]). As the Elkesaites (see the account by Epiphanius) traced back the incarnations of Christ to Adam, and not merely to Abraham, we may see in this view of history the attempt to transform Mosaism into the universal religion. But the Pharisitic theology had already begun with these Adam-speculations, which are always a sign that the religion in Judaism is feeling its limits too narrow. The Jews in Alexandria were also acquainted with these speculations.] [Footnote 441: In the Gospel of these Jewish Christians Jesus is made to say (Epiph. h. 30. 16) [Greek: êlthon katalusai tas thusias, kai ean mê pausêsthe tou thuein, ou pausetai aph' humôn hê orgê]. We see the essential progress of this Jewish Christianity within Judaism, in the opposition in principle to the whole sacrificial service (vid. also Epiph., h. 19. 3).] [Footnote 442: On this new Gospel see Zahn, Kanongesch II. p. 724 ff.] [Footnote 443: It is incorrect to suppose that the lustrations were meant to take the place of baptism, or were conceived by these Jewish Christians as repeated baptisms. Their effect was certainly equal to that of baptism. But it is nowhere hinted in our authorities that they were on that account made equivalent to the regular baptism.] [Footnote 444: The characteristic here, as in the Gentile Christian Gnosis, is the division of the person of Jesus into a more or less indifferent medium, and into the Christ. Here the factor constituting his personality could sometimes be placed in that medium, and sometimes in the Christ spirit, and thus contradictory formulæ could not but arise. It is therefore easy to conceive how Epiphanius reproaches these Jewish Christians with a denial, sometimes of the Divinity, and sometimes of the humanity of Christ (see h. 30. 14).] [Footnote 445: This syncretistic Judaism had indeed a significance for the history of the world, not, however, in the history of Christianity, but for the origin of Islam. Islam, as a religious system, is based partly on syncretistic Judaism (including the Zabians, so enigmatic in their origin), and, without questioning Mohammed's originality, can only be historically understood by taking this into account. I have endeavoured to establish this hypothesis in a lecture printed in MS form, 1877. Cf. now the conclusive proofs in Wellhausen, l. c. Part III. p. 197-212. On the Mandeans, see Brandt, Die Mandäische Religion, 1889; (also Wellhausen in d. deutschen Lit. Ztg., 1890 No. 1. Lagarde i. d. Gött. Gel. Anz., 1890, No. 10).] [Footnote 446: See Bestmann, Gesch. der Christl. Sitte Bd. II. 1 Part: Die juden-christliche Sitte, 1883; also, Theol. Lit. Ztg. 1883. Col. 269 ff. The same author, Der Ursprung des Katholischen Christenthums und des Islams, 1884; also Theol. Lit. Ztg. 1884, Col. 291 ff.] [Footnote 447: See Schliemann, Die Clementinen etc. 1844; Hilgenfeld, Die Clementinischen Recogn. u. Homil, 1848; Ritschl, in d Allg Monatschrift f. Wissensch. u. Litt., 1852. Uhlhorn, Die Homil. u. Recogn., 1854; Lehmann, Die Clement. Schriften, 1869; Lipsius, in d. Protest. K. Ztg., 1869, p. 477 ff.; Quellen der Römische Petrussage, 1872. Uhlhorn, in Herzog's R. Encykl. (Clementinen) 2 Edit. III. p. 286, admits: "There can be no doubt that the Clementine question still requires further discussion. It can hardly make any progress worth mentioning until we have collected better the material, and especially till we have got a corrected edition with an exhaustive commentary." The theory of the genesis, contents and aim of the pseudo-Clementine writings, unfolded by Renan (Orig. T. VII. p. 74-101) is essentially identical with that of German scholars. Langen (die Clemensromane, 1890) has set up very bold hypotheses, which are also based on the assumption that Jewish Christianity was an important church factor in the second century, and that the pseudo-Clementines are comparatively old writings.] [Footnote 448: There is no external evidence for placing the pseudo-Clementine writings in the second century. The oldest witness is Origen (IV. p. 401, Lommatzsch); but the quotation: "Quoniam opera bona, quæ fiunt ab infidelibus, in hoc sæculo iis prosunt," etc., is not found in our Clementines, so that Origen appears to have used a still older version. The internal evidence all points to the third century (canon, composition, theological attitude, etc.) Moreover, Zahn (Gött. Gel. Anz. 1876. No. 45) and Lagarde have declared themselves in favour of this date; while Lipsius (Apokr. Apostelgesch II. 1) and Weingarten (Zeittafeln, 3 Edit. p. 23) have recently expressed the same opinion. The Homilies presuppose (1) Marcion's Antitheses, (2) Apelles' Syllogisms, (3) perhaps Callistus' edict about penance (see III. 70), and writings of Hippolytus (see also the expression [Greek: episkopos episkopôn], Clem. ep. ad Jacob I, which is first found in Tertull, de pudic I.) (4) The most highly developed form of polemic against heathen mythology. (5) The complete development of church apologetics, as well as the conviction that Christianity is identical with correct and absolute knowledge. They further presuppose a time when there was a lull in the persecution of Christians, for the Emperor, though pretty often referred to, is never spoken of as a persecutor, and when the cultured heathen world was entirely disposed in favour of an eclectic monotheism. Moreover, the remarkable Christological statement in Hom. XVI. 15, 16. points to the third century, in fact probably even presupposes the theology of Origen; Cf. the sentence: [Greek: tou patros to mê gegennêsthai estin, huiou de to gegennêsthai gennêton de agennêtô ê kai autogennêtô ou sunkrinetai.] Finally, the decided repudiation of the awakening of Christian faith by visions and dreams, and the polemic against these is also no doubt of importance for determining the date; see XVII. 14-19. Peter says, § 18: [Greek: to adidaktôs aneu optasias kai oneirôn mathein apokalupsis estin], he had already learned that at his confession (Matt. XVI.). The question, [Greek: ei tis di optasian pros didaskalian sophisthênai dunatai], is answered in the negative, § 19.] [Footnote 449: This is also acknowledged in Koffmane. Die Gnosis, etc, p. 33]. [Footnote 450: The Homilies, as we have them, are mainly composed of the speeches of Peter and others. These speeches oppose polytheism, mythology and the doctrine of demons, and advocate monotheism, ascetic morality and rationalism. The polemic against Simon Magus almost appears as a mere accessory.] [Footnote 451: This distinction can also be shewn elsewhere in the Church of the third century. But I confess I do not know how Catholic circles got over the fact that, for example, in the third book of the Homilies many passages of the old Testament are simply characterised as untrue, immoral and lying. Here the Homilies remind one strongly of the Syllogisms of Apelles, the author of which, in other respects, opposed them in the interest of his doctrine of creating angels. In some passages the Christianity of the Homilies really looks like a syncretism composed of the common Christianity, the Jewish Christianity, Gnosticism, and the criticism of Apelles. Hom. VIII. 6-8 is also highly objectionable.] APPENDIX I. _On the Conception of Pre-existence._ On account of the importance of the question we may be here permitted to amplify a few hints given in Chap. II., § 4, and elsewhere, and to draw a clearer distinction between the Jewish and Hellenic conceptions of pre-existence. According to the theory held by the ancient Jews and by the whole of the Semitic nations, everything of real value, that from time to time appears on earth has its existence in heaven. In other words it exists with God, that is, God possesses a knowledge of it; and for that reason it has a real being. But it exists beforehand with God in the same way as it appears on earth, that is with all the material attributes belonging to its essence. Its manifestation on earth is merely a transition from concealment to publicity ([Greek: Phanerousthai]). In becoming visible to the senses, the object in question assumes no attribute that it did not already possess with God. Hence its material nature is by no means an inadequate expression of it, nor is it a second nature added to the first. The truth rather is that what was in heaven before is now revealing itself upon earth, without any sort of alteration taking place in the process. There is no _assumptio naturæ novæ_, and no change or mixture. The old Jewish theory of pre-existence is founded on the religious idea of the omniscience and omnipotence of God, that God to whom the events of history do not come as a surprise, but who guides their course. As the whole history of the world and the destiny of each individual are recorded on his tablets or books, so also each thing is ever present before him. The decisive contrast is between God and the creature. In designating the latter as "foreknown" by God, the primary idea is not to ennoble the creature, but rather to bring to light the wisdom and power of God. The ennobling of created things by attributing to them a pre-existence is a secondary result (see below). According to the Hellenic conception, which has become associated with Platonism, the idea of pre-existence is independent of the idea of God; it is based on the conception of the contrast between spirit and matter, between the infinite and finite, found in the cosmos itself. In the case of all spiritual beings, life in the body or flesh is at bottom an inadequate and unsuitable condition, for the spirit is eternal, the flesh perishable. But the pre-temporal existence, which was only a doubtful assumption as regards ordinary spirits, was a matter of certainty in the case of the higher and purer ones. They lived in an upper world long before this earth was created, and they lived there as spirits without the "polluted garment of the flesh." Now if they resolved for some reason or other to appear in this finite world, they cannot simply become visible, for they have no "visible form." They must rather "assume flesh", whether they throw it about them as a covering, or really make it their own by a process of transformation or mixture. In all cases--and here the speculation gave rise to the most exciting problems--the body is to them something inadequate which they cannot appropriate without adopting certain measures of precaution, but this process may indeed pass through all stages, from a mere seeming appropriation to complete union. The characteristics of the Greek ideas of pre-existence may consequently be thus expressed. First, the objects in question to which pre-existence is ascribed are meant to be ennobled by this attribute. Secondly, these ideas have no relation to God. Thirdly, the material appearance is regarded as something inadequate. Fourthly, speculations about _phantasma_, _assumptio naturæ humanæ_, _transmutatio_, _mixtura_, _duæ naturæ_, etc., were necessarily associated with these notions. We see that these two conceptions are as wide apart as the poles. The first has a religious origin, the second a cosmological and psychological, the first glorifies God, the second the created spirit. However, not only does a certain relationship in point of form exist between these speculations, but the Jewish conception is also found in a shape which seems to approximate still more to the Greek one. Earthly occurrences and objects are not only regarded as "foreknown" by God before being seen in this world, but the latter manifestation is frequently considered as the copy of the existence and nature which they possess in heaven, and which remains unalterably the same, whether they appear upon earth or not. That which is before God experiences no change. As the destinies of the world are recorded in the books, and God reads them there, it being at the same time a matter of indifference, as regards this knowledge of his, when and how they are accomplished upon earth, so the Tabernacle and its furniture, the Temple, Jerusalem, etc., are before God, and continue to exist before him in heaven, even during their appearance on earth and after it. This conception seems really to have been the oldest one. Moses is to fashion the Temple and its furniture according to the pattern he saw on the Mount (Exod. XXV. 9. 40; XXVI. 30; XXVII. 8; Num. VIII. 4). The Temple and Jerusalem exist in heaven, and they are to be distinguished from the earthly Temple and the earthly Jerusalem; yet the ideas of a [Greek: Phanerousthai] of the thing which is in heaven and of its copy appearing on earth, shade into one another and are not always clearly separated. The classing of things as original and copy was at first no more meant to glorify them than was the conception of a pre-existence they possessed within the knowledge of God. But since the view which in theory was true of everything earthly, was, as is naturally to be expected, applied in practice to nothing but valuable objects--for things common and ever recurring give no impulse to such speculations--the objects thus contemplated were ennobled, because they were raised above the multitude of the commonplace. At the same time the theory of original and copy could not fail to become a starting-point for new speculations, as soon as the contrast between the spiritual and material began to assume importance among the Jewish people. That took place under the influence of the Greek spirit; and was perhaps also the simultaneous result of an intellectual or moral development which arose independently of that spirit. Accordingly, a highly important advance in the old ideas of pre-existence appeared in the Jewish theological literature belonging to the time of the Maccabees and the following decades. To begin with, these conceptions are now applied to persons, which, so far as I know, was not the case before this (individualism). Secondly, the old distinction of original and copy is now interpreted to mean that the copy is the inferior and more imperfect, that in the present æon of the transient it cannot be equivalent to the original, and that we must therefore look forward to the time when the original itself will make its appearance, (contrast of the material and finite and the spiritual). With regard to the first point, we have not only to consider passages in Apocalypses and other writings in which pre-existence is attributed to Moses, the patriarchs, etc., (see above, p. 102), but we must, above all, bear in mind utterances like Ps. CXXXIX. 15, 16. The individual saint soars upward to the thought that the days of his life are in the book of God, and that he himself was before God, whilst he was still un-perfect. But, and this must not be overlooked, it was not merely his spiritual part that was before God, for there is not the remotest idea of such a distinction, but the whole man, although he is [Hebrew: bashar] (flesh). As regards the second point, the distinction between a heavenly and an earthly Jerusalem, a heavenly and an earthly Temple, etc., is sufficiently known from the Apocalypses and the New Testament. But the important consideration is that the sacred things of earth were regarded as objects of less value, instalments, as it were, pending the fulfilment of the whole promise. The desecration and subsequent destruction of sacred things must have greatly strengthened this idea. The hope of the heavenly Jerusalem comforted men for the desecration or loss of the earthly one. But this gave at the same time the most powerful impulse to reflect whether it was not an essential feature of this temporal state, that everything high and holy in it could only appear in a meagre and inadequate form. Thus the transition to Greek ideas was brought about. The fulness of the time had come when the old Jewish ideas, with a slightly mythological colouring, could amalgamate with the ideal creations of Hellenic philosophers. These, however, are also the general conditions which gave rise to the earliest Jewish speculations about a personal Messiah, except that, in the case of the Messianic ideas within Judaism itself, the adoption of specifically Greek thoughts, so far as I am able to see, cannot be made out. Most Jews, as Trypho testifies in Justin's Dialogue, 49, conceived the Messiah as a man. We may indeed go a step further and say that no Jew at bottom imagined him otherwise; for even those who attached ideas of pre-existence to him, and gave the Messiah a supernatural background, never advanced to speculations about assumption of the flesh, incarnation, two natures and the like. They only transferred in specific manner to the Messiah the old idea of pre-terrestrial existence with God, universally current among the Jews. Before the creation of the world the Messiah was hidden with God, and, when the time is fulfilled, he makes his appearance. This is neither an incarnation nor a humiliation, but he appears on earth as he exists before God, viz., as a mighty and just king, equipped with all gifts. The writings in which this thought appears most clearly are the Apocalypse of Enoch (Book of Similitudes, Chap. 46-49) and the Apocalypse of Esra (Chap. 12-14). Support to this idea, if anything more of the kind had been required, was lent by passages like Daniel VII. 13 f. and Micah, V. 1. Nowhere do we find in Jewish writings a conception which advances beyond the notion that the Messiah is the man who is with God in heaven; and who will make his appearance at his own time. We are merely entitled to say that, as the same idea was not applied to all persons with the same certainty, it was almost unavoidable that men's minds should have been led to designate the Messiah as the man from heaven. This thought was adopted by Paul (see below), but I know of no _Jewish_ writing which gave clear expression to it. Jesus Christ designated himself as the Messiah, and the first of his disciples who recognised him as such were native Jews. The Jewish conceptions of the Messiah consequently passed over into the Christian community. But they received an impulse to important modifications from the living impression conveyed by the person and destiny of Jesus. Three facts were here of pre-eminent importance. First, Jesus appeared in lowliness, and even suffered death. Secondly, he was believed to be exalted through the resurrection to the right hand of God, and his return in glory was awaited with certainty. Thirdly, the strength of a new life and of an indissoluble union with God was felt issuing from him, and therefore his people were connected with him in the closest way. In some old Christian writings found in the New Testament and emanating from the pen of native Jews, there are no speculations at all about the pre-temporal existence of Jesus as the Messiah, or they are found expressed in a manner which simply embodies the old Jewish theory and is merely distinguished from it by the emphasis laid on the exaltation of Jesus after death through the resurrection. 1. Pet. I. 18 ff. is a classic passage: [Greek: elutrôthête timiô haimati hôs amnou amômou kai aspilou Christou, proegnôsmenou men pro katabolês kosmou, phanerôthentos de ep' eschatou tôn chronôn di' humas tous di autou pistous eis theon ton egeiranta autou ek nekrôn kai doxan autô donta, hôste tên pistin humôn kai elpida einai eis theon]. Here we find a conception of the pre-existence of Christ which is not yet affected by cosmological or psychological speculation, which does not overstep the boundaries of a purely religious contemplation, and which arose from the Old Testament way of thinking, and the living impression derived from the person of Jesus. He is "foreknown (by God) before the creation of the world", not as a spiritual being without a body, but as a Lamb without blemish and without spot; in other words, his whole personality together with the work which it was to carry out, was within God's eternal knowledge. He "was manifested in these last days for our sake", that is, he is now visibly what he already was before God. What is meant here is not an incarnation, but a _revelatio_. Finally, he appeared in order that our faith and hope should now be firmly directed to the living God, _that_ God who raised him from the dead and gave him honour. In the last clause expression is given to the specifically Christian thought, that the Messiah Jesus was _exalted_ after crucifixion and death: from this, however, no further conclusions are drawn. But it was impossible that men should everywhere rest satisfied with these utterances, for the age was a theological one. Hence the paradox of the suffering Messiah, the certainty of his glorification through the resurrection, the conviction of his specific relationship to God, and the belief in the real union of his Church with him did not seem adequately expressed by the simple formulæ [Greek: proegnôsmenos, phanerôtheis]. In reference to all these points, we see even in the oldest Christian writings, the appearance of formulæ which fix more precisely the nature of his pre-existence, or in other words his heavenly existence. With regard to the first and second points there arose the view of humiliation and exaltation, such as we find in Paul and in numerous writings after him. In connection with the third point the concept "Son of God" was thrust into the foreground, and gave rise to the idea of the image of God (2 Cor. IV. 4; Col. I. 15; Heb. I. 2; Phil. II. 6). The fourth point gave occasion to the formation of theses, such as we find in Rom. VIII. 29: [Greek: prôtotokos en pollois adelphois], Col. I. 18: [Greek: prôtotokos ek tôn nekrôn] (Rev. I. 5), Eph. II. 6 [Greek: sunêgeiren kai sunekathisen en tois epouraniois hêmas en Christô Iêsou], I. 4: [Greek: ho theos exelexato hêmas en Christô pro katabolês kosmou], I. 22: [Greek: ho theos edôken ton Christon kephalên huper panta tê ekklêsia hêtis estin to sôma autou] etc. This purely religious view of the Church, according to which all that is predicated of Christ is also applied to his followers, continued a considerable time. Hermas declares that the Church is older than the world, and that the world was created for its sake (see above, p. 103), and the author of the so-called 2nd Epistle of Clement declares (Chap. 14) [Greek: ... esometha ek tês ekklêsias tês prôtês tês pneumatikês, tês pro hêliou kai selênês hektismenês ... ouk oiomai de humas agnoein, hoti ekklêsia zôsa sôma esti Christou. legei gar hêgraphê. Epoiêsen ho theos ton anthrôpon arsen kai thêlu. to arsen estin ho Christos to thêlu hê ekklêsia.] Thus Christ and his Church are inseparably connected. The latter is to be conceived as pre-existent quite as much as the former; the Church was also created before the sun and the moon, for the world was created for its sake. This conception of the Church illustrates a final group of utterances about the pre-existent Christ, the origin of which might easily be misinterpreted unless we bear in mind their reference to the Church. In so far as he is [Greek: proegnôsmenos pro katabolês kosmou], he is the [Greek: archê tês ktiseôs tou theou] (Rev. III. 14), the [Greek: prôtotokos pasês ktiseôs] etc. According to the current conception of the time, these expressions mean exactly the same as the simple [Greek: proegnôsmenos pro katabolês kosmou], as is proved by the parallel formulæ referring to the Church. Nay, even the further advance to the idea that the world was created by him (Cor. Col. Eph. Heb.) need not yet necessarily be a [Greek: metabasis eis allo genos]; for the beginning of things [Greek: archê] and their purpose form the real force to which their origin is due (principle [Greek: archê]). Hermas indeed calls the Church older than the world simply because "the world was created for its sake." All these further theories which we have quoted up to this time need in no sense alter the original conception, so long as they appear in an isolated form and do not form the basis of fresh speculations. They may be regarded as the working out of the original conception attaching to Jesus Christ, [Greek: proegnôsmenos pro katabolês kosmou, phanerôtheis k.t.l.]; and do not really modify this religious view of the matter. Above all, we find in them as yet no certain transition to the Greek view which splits up his personality into a heavenly and an earthly portion; it still continues to be the complete Christ to whom all the utterances apply. But, beyond doubt, they already reveal the strong impulse to conceive the Christ that had appeared as a divine being. He had not been a transitory phenomenon, but has ascended into heaven and still continues to live. This post-existence of his gave to the ideas of his pre-existence a support and a concrete complexion which the earlier Jewish theories lacked. We find the transition to a new conception in the writings of Paul. But it is important to begin by determining the relationship between his Christology and the views we have been hitherto considering. In the Apostle's clearest trains of thought everything that he has to say of Christ hinges on his death and resurrection. For this we need no proofs, but see, more especially Rom. I. 3 f.: [Greek: peri tou huiou autou, tou genomenou ek spermatos Daueid kata sarka, tou horisthentos huiou theou en dunamei kata pneuma agiôsunês ek anastaseôs nekrôn, Iêsou Christou tou kuriou hêmôn]. What Christ became and his significance for us now are due to his death on the cross and his resurrection. He condemned sin in the flesh and was obedient unto death. Therefore he now shares in the [Greek: doxa] of God. The exposition in 1 Cor. XV. 45, also ([Greek: ho eschatos Adam eis pneuma Zôopoioun, all' ou prôton to pneumatikon alla to psuchikon, epeita to pneumatikon. ho prôtos anthrôpos ek gês choikos ho deuteros anthrôpos ex ouranou]) is still capable of being understood, as to its fundamental features, in a sense which agrees with the conception of the Messiah, as [Greek: kat' exochên,] the man from heaven who was hidden with God. There can be no doubt, however, that this conception as already shewn by the formulæ in the passage just quoted, formed to Paul the starting-point of a speculation, in which the original theory assumed a completely new shape. The decisive factors in this transformation were the Apostle's doctrine of "spirit and flesh", and the corresponding conviction that the Christ who is not be known "after the flesh", is a spirit, namely, the mighty spiritual being [Greek: pneuma zôopoioun], who has condemned sin in the flesh, and thereby enabled man to walk not after the flesh, but after the spirit. According to one of the Apostle's ways of regarding the matter, Christ, after the accomplishment of his work, became the [Greek: pneuma zôopoioun] through the resurrection. But the belief that Jesus always stood before God as the heavenly man, suggested to Paul the other view, that Christ was always a "spirit", that he was sent down by God, that the flesh is consequently something inadequate and indeed hostile to him, that he nevertheless assumed it in order to extirpate the sin dwelling in the flesh, that he therefore humbled himself by appearing, and that this humiliation was the deed he performed. This view is found in 2 Cor. VIII. 9: [Greek: Iêsous Christos di' humas eptôcheusen plousios ôn]; in Rom. VIII. 3: [Greek: ho theos ton heautou huion pempsas en homoiômati sarkos hamartias kai peri hamartias katekrine tên hamartian en tê sarki]; and in Phil. II. 5 f.: [Greek: Christos Iêsous en morphê theou huparchôn ... heauton ekenôsen morphên doulon labôn, en homoiômati anthrôpôn genomenos, kai schêmati heuretheis hôs anthrôpos etapeinôsen heauton k.t.l.] In both forms of thought Paul presupposes a real exaltation of Christ. Christ receives after the resurrection more than he ever possessed ([Greek: to onoma to huper pan onoma]). In this view Paul retains a historical interpretation of Christ, even in the conception of the [Greek: pneuma Christos]. But whilst many passages seem to imply that the work of Christ began with suffering and death, Paul shews in the verses cited, that he already conceives the appearance of Christ on earth as his moral act, as a humiliation, purposely brought about by God and Christ himself, which reaches its culminating point in the death on the cross. Christ, the divine spiritual being, is sent by the Father from heaven to earth, and of his own free will he obediently takes this mission upon himself. He appears in the [Greek: homoiôma sarkos amartias], dies the death of the cross, and then, raised by the Father, ascends again into heaven in order henceforth to act as the [Greek: kurios zôntôn] and [Greek: nekrôn] and to become to his own people the principle of a new life in the spirit. Whatever we may think about the admissibility and justification of this view, to whatever source we may trace its origin and however strongly we may emphasise its divergencies from the contemporaneous Hellenic ideas, it is certain that it approaches very closely to the latter; for the distinction of spirit and flesh is here introduced into the concept of pre-existence, and this combination is not found in the Jewish notions of the Messiah. Paul was the first who limited the idea of pre-existence by referring it solely to the spiritual part of Jesus Christ, but at the same time gave life to it by making the pre-existing Christ (the spirit) a being who, even during his pre-existence, stands independently side by side with God. He was also the first to designate Christ's [Greek: sarx] as "assumpta", and to recognise its assumption as in itself a humiliation. To him the appearance of Christ was no mere [Greek: phanerousthai], but a [Greek: kenousthai, tapeinousthai] and [Greek: ptôcheuein]. These outstanding features of the Pauline Christology must have been intelligible to the Greeks, but, whilst embracing these, they put everything else in the system aside. [Greek: Christos ho kurios ho sôsas hêmas, hôn men to prôton pneuma, egeneto sarx kai houtôs hêmas ekalesen], says 2 Clem. (9. 5), and that is also the Christology of 1 Clement, Barnabas and many other Greeks. From the sum total of Judæo-Christian speculations they only borrowed, in addition, the one which has been already mentioned: the Messiah as [Greek: proegnôsmenos pro katabolês kosmou] is for that very reason also [Greek: hê archê tês ktiseôs tou theou], that is the beginning, purpose and principle of the creation. The Greeks, as the result of their cosmological interest, embraced this thought as a fundamental proposition. The complete Greek Christology then is expressed as follows: [Greek: Christos, ho sôsas hêmas, hôn men to prôton pneuma kai pasês ktiseôs archê, egeneto sarx kai houtôs hêmas ekalesen]. _That is the fundamental theological and philosophical creed on which the whole Trinitarian and Christological speculations of the Church of the succeeding centuries are built, and it is thus the root of the orthodox system of dogmatics_; for the notion that Christ was the [Greek: archê pasês ktiseôs] necessarily led in some measure to the conception of Christ as the Logos. For the Logos had long been regarded by cultured men as the beginning and principle of the creation.[452] With this transition the theories concerning Christ are removed from Jewish and Old Testament soil, and also that of religion (in the strict sense of the word), and transplanted to the Greek one. Even in his pre-existent state Christ is an independent power existing side by side with God. The pre-existence does not refer to his whole appearance, but only to a part of his essence; it does not primarily serve to glorify the wisdom and power of the God who guides history, but only glorifies Christ, and thereby threatens the monarchy of God.[453] The appearance of Christ is now an "assumption of flesh", and immediately the intricate questions about the connection of the heavenly and spiritual being with the flesh simultaneously arise and are at first settled by the theories of a naive docetism. But the flesh, that is the human nature created by God, appears depreciated, because it was reckoned as something unsuitable for Christ, and foreign to him as a spiritual being. Thus the Christian religion was mixed up with the refined asceticism of a perishing civilization, and a foreign substructure given to its system of morality, so earnest in its simplicity.[454] But the most questionable result was the following. Since the predicate "Logos", which at first, and for a long time, coincided with the idea of the reason ruling in the cosmos, was considered as the highest that could be given to Christ, the holy and divine element, namely, the power of a new life, a power to be viewed and laid hold of in Christ, was transformed into a cosmic force and thereby secularised. In the present work I have endeavoured to explain fully how the doctrine of the Church developed from these premises into the doctrine of the Trinity and of the two natures. I have also shewn that the imperfect beginnings of Church doctrine, especially as they appear in the Logos theory derived from cosmology, were subjected to wholesome corrections--by the Monarchians, by Athanasius, and by the influence of biblical passages which pointed in another direction. Finally, the Logos doctrine received a form in which the idea was deprived of nearly all cosmical content. Nor could the Hellenic contrast of "spirit" and "flesh" become completely developed in Christianity, because the belief in the bodily resurrection of Christ, and in the admission of the flesh into heaven, opposed to the principle of dualism a barrier which Paul as yet neither knew nor felt to be necessary. The conviction as to the resurrection of the flesh proved the hard rock which shattered the energetic attempts to give a completely Hellenic complexion to the Christian religion. The history of the development of the ideas of pre-existence is at the same time the criticism of them, so that we need not have recourse to our present theory of knowledge which no longer allows such speculations. The problem of determining the significance of Christ through a speculation concerning his natures, and of associating with these the concrete features of the historical Christ, was originated by Hellenism. But even the New Testament writers, who appear in this respect to be influenced in some way by Hellenism, did not really speculate concerning the different natures, but, taking Christ's spiritual nature for granted, determined his religious significance by his moral qualities--Paul by the moral act of humiliation and obedience unto death, John by the complete dependence of Christ upon God and hence also by his obedience, as well as the unity of the love of Father and Son. There is only one idea of pre-existence which no empiric contemplation of history and no reason can uproot. This is identical with the most ancient idea found in the Old Testament, as well as that prevalent among the early Christians, and consists in the religious thought that God the Lord directs history. In its application to Jesus Christ, it is contained in the words we read in 1 Pet. I. 20: [Greek: proegnôsmenos men pro katabolês kosmou, phanerôtheis de di' humas tous di' autou pistous eis theon ton egeiranta auton ek nekrôn kai doxan autôi donta, hôste tên pistin humôn kai elpida einai eis theon]. [Footnote 452: These hints will have shewn that Paul's theory occupies a middle position between the Jewish and Greek ideas of pre-existence. In the canon, however, we have another group of writings which likewise gives evidence of a middle position with regard to the matter, I mean the Johannine writings. If we only possessed the prologue to the Gospel of John with its "[Greek: en archê ên ho logos]," the "[Greek: panta di' autou egeneto]" and the "[Greek: ho logos sarx egeneto]" we could indeed point to nothing but Hellenic ideas. But the Gospel itself, as is well known, contains very much that must have astonished a Greek, and is opposed to the philosophical idea of the Logos. This occurs even in the thought, "[Greek: ho logos sarx egeneto]," which in itself is foreign to the Logos conception. Just fancy a proposition like the one in VI. 44, [Greek: oudeis dunatai elthein pros me, ean mê ho patêr ho pempsas me elkusê auton], or in V. 17. 21, engrafted on Philo's system, and consider the revolution it would have caused there. No doubt the prologue to some extent contains the themes set forth in the presentation that follows, but they are worded in such a way that one cannot help thinking the author wished to prepare Greek readers for the paradox he had to communicate to them, by adapting his prologue to their mode of thought. Under the altered conditions of thought which now prevail, the prologue appears to us the mysterious part, and the narrative that follows seems the portion that is relatively more intelligible. But to the original readers, if they were educated Greeks, the prologue must have been the part most easily understood. As nowadays a section on the nature of the Christian religion is usually prefixed to a treatise on dogmatics, in order to prepare and introduce the reader, so also the Johannine prologue seems to be intended as an introduction of this kind. It brings in conceptions which were familiar to the Greeks, in fact it enters into these more deeply than is justified by the presentation which follows; for the notion of the incarnate Logos is by no means the dominant one here. Though faint echoes of this idea may possibly be met with here and there in the Gospel--I confess I do not notice them--the predominating thought is essentially the conception of Christ as the Son of God, who obediently executes what the Father has shewn and appointed him. The works which he does are allotted to him, and he performs them in the strength of the Father. The whole of Christ's farewell discourses and the intercessory prayer evince no Hellenic influence and no cosmological speculation whatever, but shew the inner life of a man who knows himself to be one with God to a greater extent than any before him, and who feels the leading of men to God to be the task he had received and accomplished. In this consciousness he speaks of the glory he had with the Father before the world was (XVII. 4 f.; [Greek: egô se edoxasa epi tês gês, to ergon teleiôsas ho dedôkas moi hina poiêsô; kai nun doxason me su, pater, para seautô tê doxê hê eichon pro tou ton kosmon einai, para soi]). With this we must compare verses like III. 13: [Greek: oudeis anabebêken eis ton ouranon ei mê ho ek tou ouranou katabas, ho huios tou anthrôpou], and III. 31: [Greek: ho anôthen erchomenos epanô pantôn estin. ho ôn ek tês gês ek tês gês estin kai ek tês gês lalei ho ek tou ouranou erchomenos epanô pantôn estin] (see also I. 30: VI. 33, 38, 41 f. 50 f. 58, 62: VIII. 14, 58; XVII. 24). But though the pre-existence is strongly expressed in these passages, a separation of [Greek: pneuma (logos)] and [Greek: sarx] in Christ is nowhere assumed in the Gospel except in the prologue. It is always Christ's whole personality to which every sublime attribute is ascribed. The same one who "can do nothing of himself", is also the one who was once glorious and will yet be glorified. This idea, however, can still be referred to the [Greek: proegnosmenos pro katabolês kosmon], although it gives a peculiar [Greek: doxa] with God to him who was foreknown of God, and the oldest conception is yet to be traced in many expressions, as, for example, I. 31: [Greek: kagô ouk êdein auton, all' hina phanerôthæ tô Israêl dia touto êlthon], V. 19: [Greek: ou duvatai ho uios poiein aph' eautou ouden an mê ti blepê ton patera poiountai], V. 36: VIII. 38: [Greek: ha egô heôraka para tô patri lalô], VIII. 40: [Greek: tên alêtheian humin lelalêka hên êkousa para tou theou], XII. 49: XV. 15: [Greek: panta ha êxousa para tou patros mou egnôrisa humin.]] [Footnote 453: This is indeed counterbalanced in the fourth Gospel by the thought of the complete community of love between the Father and the Son, and the pre-existence and descent of the latter here also tend to the glory of God. In the sentence "God so loved the world" etc., that which Paul describes in Phil. II. becomes at the same time an act of God, in fact the act of God. The sentence "God is love" sums up again all individual speculations, and raises them into a new and most exalted sphere.] [Footnote 454: If it had been possible for speculation to maintain the level of the Fourth Gospel, nothing of that would have happened; but where were there theologians capable of this?] APPENDIX II. _Liturgy and the Origin of Dogma._ The reader has perhaps wondered why I have made so little reference to Liturgy in my description of the origin of dogma. For according to the most modern ideas about the history of religion and the origin of theology, the development of both may be traced in the ritual. Without any desire to criticise these notions, I think I am justified in asserting that this is another instance of the exceptional nature of Christianity. For a considerable period it possessed no ritual at all, and the process of development in this direction had been going on, or been completed, a long time before ritual came to furnish material for dogmatic discussion. The worship in Christian Churches grew out of that in the synagogues, whereas there is no trace of its being influenced by the Jewish Temple service (Duchesne, Origines du Culte Chrétien, p. 45 ff.). Its oldest constituents are accordingly prayer, reading of the scriptures, application of scripture texts, and sacred song. In addition to these we have, as specifically Christian elements, the celebration of the Lord's Supper, and the utterances of persons inspired by the Spirit. The latter manifestations, however, ceased in the course of the second century, and to some extent as early as its first half. The religious services in which a ritual became developed were prayer, the Lord's Supper and sacred song. The Didache had already prescribed stated formulæ for prayer. The ritual of the Lord's Supper was determined in its main features by the memory of its institution. The sphere of sacred song remained the most unfettered, though here also, even at an early period--no later in fact than the end of the first and beginning of the second century--a fixed and a variable element were distinguished; for responsory hymns, as is testified by the Epistle of Pliny and the still earlier Book of Revelation, require to follow a definite arrangement. But the whole, though perhaps already fixed during the course of the second century, still bore the stamp of spirituality and freedom. It was really worship in spirit and in truth, and this and no other was the light in which the Apologists, for instance, regarded it. Ritualism did not begin to be a power in the Church till the end of the second century; though it had been cultivated by the "Gnostics" long before, and traces of it are found at an earlier period in some of the older Fathers, such as Ignatius. Among the liturgical fragments still preserved to us from the first three centuries two strata may be distinguished. Apart from the responsory hymns in the Book of Revelation, which can hardly represent fixed liturgical pieces, the only portions of the older stratum in our possession are the Lord's Prayer, originating with Jesus himself and used as a liturgy, together with the sacramental prayers of the Didache. These prayers exhibit a style unlike any of the liturgical formulæ of later times; the prayer is exclusively addressed to God, it returns thanks for knowledge and life; it speaks of Jesus the [Greek: pais theou] (Son of God) as the mediator; the intercession refers exclusively to the Church, and the supplication is for the gathering together of the Church, the hastening of the coming of the kingdom and the destruction of the world. No direct mention is made of the death and resurrection of Christ. These prayers are the peculiar property of the Christian Church. It cannot, however, be said that they exercised any important influence on the history of dogma. The thoughts contained in them perished in their specific shape; the measure of permanent importance they attained in a more general form, was not preserved to them through these prayers. The second stratum of liturgical pieces dates back to the great prayer with which the first Epistle of Clement ends, for in many respects this prayer, though some expressions in it remind us of the older type ([Greek: dia tou êgapêmenou paidos sou Iêsoun Christou], "through thy beloved son Jesus Christ "), already exhibits the characteristics of the later liturgy, as is shewn, for example, by a comparison of the liturgical prayer in the Constitutions of the Apostles (see Lightfoot's edition and my own). But this piece shews at the same time that the liturgical prayers, and consequently the liturgy also, sprang from those in the synagogue, for the similarity is striking. Here we find a connection resembling that which exists between the Jewish "Two Ways" and the Christian instruction of catechumens. If this observation is correct, it clearly explains the cautious use of historical and dogmatic material in the oldest liturgies--a precaution not to their disadvantage. As in the prayers of the synagogue, so also in Christian Churches, all sorts of matters were not submitted to God or laid bare before Him, but the prayers serve as a religious ceremony, that is, as adoration, petition and intercession. [Greek: Su ei ho theos monos kai Iêsous Christos ho pais sou kai hêmeis laos sou kai probata tês nomês sou], (thou art God alone and Jesus Christ is thy son, and we are thy people and the sheep of thy pasture). In this confession, an expressive Christian modification of that of the synagogue, the whole liturgical ceremony is epitomised. So far as we can assume and conjecture from the scanty remains of Ante-Nicene liturgy, the character of the ceremony was not essentially altered in this respect. Nothing containing a specific dogma or theological speculation was admitted. The number of sacred ceremonies, already considerable in the second century (how did they arise?), was still further increased in the third; but the accompanying words, so far as we know, expressed nothing but adoration, gratitude, supplication, and intercession. The relations expressed in the liturgy became more comprehensive, copious and detailed; but its fundamental character was not changed. The history of dogma in the first three centuries is not reflected in their liturgy. APPENDIX III. NEOPLATONISM. _The historical significance and position of Neoplatonism._ The political history of the ancient world ends with the Empire of Diocletian and Constantine, which has not only Roman and Greek, but also Oriental features. The history of ancient philosophy ends with the universal philosophy of Neoplatonism, which assimilated the elements of most of the previous systems, and embodied the result of the history of religion and civilisation in East and West. But as the Roman Byzantine Empire is at one and the same time a product of the final effort and the exhaustion of the ancient world, so also Neoplatonism is, on one side, the completion of ancient philosophy, and, on another, its abolition. Never before in the Greek and Roman theory of the world did the conviction of the dignity of man and his elevation above nature, attain so certain an expression as in Neoplatonism; and never before in the history of civilisation did its highest exponents, notwithstanding all their progress in inner observation, so much undervalue the sovereign significance of real science and pure knowledge as the later Neoplatonists did. Judged from the stand-point of pure science, of empirical knowledge of the world, the philosophy of Plato and Aristotle marks a momentous turning-point, the post-Aristotelian a retrogression, the Neoplatonic a complete declension. But judging from the stand-point of religion and morality, it must be admitted that the ethical temper which Neoplatonism sought to beget and confirm, was the highest and purest which the culture of the ancient world produced. This necessarily took place at the expense of science: for on the soil of polytheistic natural religions, the knowledge of nature must either fetter and finally abolish religion, or be fettered and abolished by religion. Religion and ethic, however, proved the stronger powers. Placed between these and the knowledge of nature, philosophy, after a period of fluctuation, finally follows the stronger force. Since the ethical itself, in the sphere of natural religions, is unhesitatingly conceived as a higher kind of "nature", conflict with the empirical knowledge of the world is unavoidable. The higher "physics", for that is what religious ethics is here, must displace the lower or be itself displaced. Philosophy must renounce its scientific aspect, in order that man's claim to a supernatural value of his person and life may be legitimised. It is an evidence of the vigour of man's moral endowments that the only epoch of culture which we are able to survey in its beginnings, its progress, and its close, ended not with materialism, but with the most decided idealism. It is true that in its way this idealism also denotes a bankruptcy; as the contempt for reason and science, and these are contemned when relegated to the second place, finally leads to barbarism, because it results in the crassest superstition, and is exposed to all manner of imposture. And, as a matter of fact, barbarism succeeded the flourishing period of Neoplatonism. Philosophers themselves no doubt found their mental food in the knowledge which they thought themselves able to surpass; but the masses grew up in superstition, and the Christian Church, which entered on the inheritance of Neoplatonism, was compelled to reckon with that and come to terms with it. Just when the bankruptcy of the ancient civilisation and its lapse into barbarism could not have failed to reveal themselves, a kindly destiny placed on the stage of history barbarian nations, for whom the work of a thousand years had as yet no existence. Thus the fact is concealed, which, however, does not escape the eye of one who looks below the surface, that the inner history of the ancient world must necessarily have degenerated into barbarism of its own accord, because it ended with the renunciation of this world. There is no desire either to enjoy it, to master it, or to know it as it really is. A new world is disclosed for which everything is given up, and men are ready to sacrifice insight and understanding, in order to possess this world with certainty; and, in the light which radiates from the world to come, that which in this world appears absurd becomes wisdom, and wisdom becomes folly. Such is Neoplatonism. The pre-Socratic philosophers, declared by the followers of Socrates to be childish, had freed themselves from theology, that is, the mythology of the poets, and constructed a philosophy from the observation of nature, without troubling themselves about ethics and religion. In the systems of Plato and Aristotle physics and ethics were to attain to their rights, though the latter no doubt already occupied the first place; theology, that is popular religion, continues to be thrust aside. The post-Aristotelian philosophers of all parties were already beginning to withdraw from the objective world. Stoicism indeed seems to fall back into the materialism that I prevailed before Plato and Aristotle; but the ethical dualism which dominated the mood of the Stoic philosophers, did not in the long run tolerate the materialistic physics; it sought and found help in the metaphysical dualism of the Platonists, and at the same time reconciled itself to the popular religion by means of allegorism, that is, it formed a new theology. But it did not result in permanent philosophic creations. A one-sided development of Platonism produced the various forms of scepticism which sought to abolish confidence in empirical knowledge. Neoplatonism, which came last, learned from all schools. In the first place, it belongs to the series of post-Aristotelian systems and, as the philosophy of the subjective, it is the logical completion of them. In the second place, it rests on scepticism; for it also, though not at the very beginning, gave up both confidence and pure interest in empirical knowledge. Thirdly, it can boast of the name and authority of Plato; for in metaphysics it consciously went back to him and expressly opposed the metaphysics of the Stoics. Yet on this very point it also learned something from the Stoics; for the Neoplatonic conception of the action of God on the world, and of the nature and origin of matter, can only be explained by reference to the dynamic pantheism of the Stoics. In other respects, especially in psychology, it is diametrically opposed to the Stoa, though superior. Fourthly, the study of Aristotle also had an influence on Neoplatonism. That is shewn not only in the philosophic methods of the Neoplatonists, but also, though in a subordinate way, in their metaphysics. Fifthly, the ethic of the Stoics was adopted by Neoplatonism, but this ethic necessarily gave way to a still higher view of the conditions of the spirit. Sixthly and finally, Christianity also, which Neoplatonism opposed in every form (especially in that of the Gnostic philosophy of religion), seems not to have been entirely without influence. On this point we have as yet no details, and these can only be ascertained by a thorough examination of the polemic of Plotinus against the Gnostics. Hence, with the exception of Epicureanism, which Neoplatonism dreaded as its mortal enemy, every important system of former times was drawn upon by the new philosophy. But we should not on that account call Neoplatonism an eclectic system in the usual sense of the word. For in the first place, it had one pervading and all predominating interest, the religious; and in the second place, it introduced into philosophy a new supreme principle, the super-rational, or the super-essential. This principle should not be identified with the "Ideas" of Plato or the "Form" of Aristotle. For as Zeller rightly says: "In Plato and Aristotle the distinction of the sensuous and the intelligible is the strongest expression for belief in the truth of thought; it is only sensuous perception and sensuous existence whose relative falsehood they presuppose; but of a higher stage of spiritual life lying beyond idea and thought, there is no mention. In Neoplatonism, on the other hand, it is just this super-rational element which is regarded as the final goal of all effort, and the highest ground of all existence; the knowledge gained by thought is only an intermediate stage between sensuous perception and the super-rational intuition; the intelligible forms are not that which is highest and last, but only the media by which the influences of the formless original essence are communicated to the world. This view therefore presupposes not merely doubt of the reality of sensuous existence and sensuous notions, but absolute doubt, aspiration beyond all reality. The highest intelligible is not that which constitutes the real content of thought, but only that which is presupposed and earnestly desired by man as the unknowable ground of his thought." Neoplatonism recognised that a religious ethic can be built neither on sense-perception nor on knowledge gained by the understanding, and that it cannot be justified by these; it therefore broke both with intellectual ethics and with utilitarian morality. But for that very reason, having as it were parted with perception and understanding in relation to the ascertaining of the highest truth, it was compelled to seek for a new world and a new function in the human spirit, in order to ascertain the existence of what it desired, and to comprehend and describe that of which it had ascertained the existence. But man cannot transcend his psychological endowment. An iron ring incloses him. He who does not allow his thought to be determined by experience falls a prey to fancy, that is, thought, which cannot be suppressed, assumes a mythological aspect: superstition takes the place of reason, dull gazing at something incomprehensible is regarded as the highest goal of the spirit's efforts, and every conscious activity of the spirit is subordinated to visionary conditions artificially brought about. But that every conceit may not be allowed to assert itself, the gradual exploration of every region of knowledge according to every method of acquiring it, is demanded as a preliminary--the Neoplatonists did not make matters easy for themselves,--and a new and mighty principle is set up which is to bridle fancy, viz., _the authority of a sure tradition_. This authority must be superhuman, otherwise it would not come under consideration; it must therefore be divine. On divine disclosures, that is revelations, must rest both the highest super-rational region of knowledge and the possibility of knowledge itself. In a word, the philosophy which Neoplatonism represents, whose final interest is the religious, and whose highest object is the super-rational, must be a _philosophy of revelation_. In the case of Plotinus himself and his immediate disciples, this does not yet appear plainly. They still shew confidence in the objective presuppositions of their philosophy, and have, especially in psychology, done great work and created something new. But this confidence vanishes in the later Neoplatonists. Porphyry, before he became a disciple of Plotinus, wrote a book [Greek: peri tês eklogiôn philosophia]; as a philosopher he no longer required the "[Greek: logia]." But the later representatives of the system sought for their philosophy revelations of the Godhead. They found them in the religious traditions and cults of all nations. Neoplatonism learned from the Stoics to rise above the political limits of nations and states, and to widen the Hellenic consciousness to a universally human one. The spirit of God has breathed throughout the whole history of the nations, and the traces of divine revelation are to be found everywhere. The older a religious tradition or cultus is, the more worthy of honour, the more rich in thoughts of God it is. Therefore the old Oriental religions are of special value to the Neoplatonists. The allegorical method of interpreting myths, which was practised by the Stoics in particular, was accepted by Neoplatonism also. But the myths, spiritually explained, have for this system an entirely different value from what they had for the Stoic philosophers. The latter adjusted themselves to the myths by the aid of allegorical explanation; the later Neoplatonists, on the other hand, (after a selection in which the immoral myths were sacrificed, see, e.g. Julian) regarded them as _the proper material and sure foundation of philosophy_. Neoplatonism claims to be not only the absolute _philosophy_, completing all systems, but, at the same time, the absolute _religion_, confirming and explaining all earlier religions. A rehabilitation of all ancient religions is aimed at (see the philosophic teachers of Julian and compare his great religious experiment); each was to continue in its traditional form, but, at the same time, each was to communicate the religious temper and the religious knowledge which Neoplatonism had attained, and each cultus is to lead to the high morality which it behoves man to maintain. In Neoplatonism the psychological fact of the longing of man for something higher, is exalted to the all-predominating principle which explains the world. Therefore the religions, though they are to be purified and spiritualised, become the foundation of philosophy. The Neoplatonic philosophy therefore presupposes the religious syncretism of the third century, and cannot be understood without it. The great forces which were half unconsciously at work in this syncretism, were reflectively grasped by Neoplatonism. It is the final fruit of the developments resulting from the political, national and religious syncretism which arose from the undertakings of Alexander the Great, and the Romans. Neoplatonism is consequently a stage in the history of religion; nay, its significance in the history of the world lies in the fact that it is so. In the history of science and enlightenment it has a position of significance only in so far as it was the necessary transition stage through which humanity had to pass, in order to free itself from the religion of nature and the depreciation of the spiritual life, which oppose an insurmountable barrier to the highest advance of human knowledge. But as Neoplatonism in its philosophical aspect means the abolition of ancient philosophy, which, however, it desired to complete, so also in its religious aspect it means the abolition of the ancient religions which it aimed at restoring. For in requiring these religions to mediate a definite religious knowledge, and to lead to the highest moral disposition, it burdened them with tasks to which they were not equal, and under which they could not but break down. And in requiring them to loosen, if not completely destroy, the bond which was their only stay, namely, the political bond, it took from them the foundation on which they were built. But could it not place them on a greater and firmer foundation? Was not the Roman Empire in existence, and could the new religion not become dependent on this in the same way as the earlier religions had been dependent on the lesser states and nations? It might be thought so, but it was no longer possible. No doubt the political history of the nations round the Mediterranean, in their development into the universal Roman monarchy, was parallel to the spiritual history of these nations in their development into monotheism and a universal system of morals; but the spiritual development in the end far outstripped the political: even the Stoics attained to a height which the political development could only partially reach. Neoplatonism did indeed attempt to gain a connection with the Byzantine Roman Empire: one noble monarch, Julian, actually perished as a result of this endeavour: but even before this the profounder Neoplatonists discerned that their lofty religious philosophy would not bear contact with the despotic Empire, because it would not bear any contact with the "world" (plan of the founding of Platonopolis). Political affairs are at bottom as much a matter of indifference to Neoplatonism as material things in general. The idealism of the new philosophy was too high to admit of its being naturalised in the despiritualised, tyrannical and barren creation of the Byzantine Empire, and this Empire itself needed unscrupulous and despotic police officials, not noble philosophers. Important and instructive, therefore, as the experiments are, which were made from time to time by the state and by individual philosophers, to unite the monarchy of the world with Neoplatonism, they could not but be ineffectual. But, and this is the last question which one is justified in raising here, why did not Neoplatonism create an independent religious community? Since it had already changed the ancient religions so fundamentally, in its purpose to restore them, since it had attempted to fill the old naive cults with profound philosophic ideas, and to make them exponents of a high morality, why did it not take the further step and create a religious fellowship of its own? Why did it not complete and confirm the union of gods by the founding of a church which was destined to embrace the whole of humanity, and in which, beside the one ineffable Godhead, the gods of all nations could have been worshipped? Why not? The answer to this question is at the same time the reply to another, viz., why did the Christian church supplant Neoplatonism? Neoplatonism lacked three elements to give it the significance of a new and permanent religious system. Augustine in his confessions (Bk. VII. 18-21) has excellently described these three elements. First and above all, it lacked a religious founder; secondly, it was unable to give any answer to the question, how one could permanently maintain the mood of blessedness and peace: thirdly, it lacked the means of winning those who could not speculate. The "people" could not learn the philosophic exercises which it recommended as the condition of attaining the enjoyment of the highest good; and the way on which even the "people" can attain to the highest good was hidden from it. Hence these "wise and prudent" remained a school. When Julian attempted to interest the common uncultured man in the doctrines and worship of this school, his reward was mockery and scorn. Not as philosophy and not as a new religion did Neoplatonism become a decisive factor in history, but, if I may say so, as a frame of mind.[455] The feeling that there is an eternal highest good which lies beyond all outer experience and is not even the intelligible, this feeling, with which was united the conviction of the entire worthlessness of everything earthly, was produced and fostered by Neoplatonism. But it was unable to describe the contents of that highest being and highest good, and therefore it was here compelled to give itself entirely up to fancy and aesthetic feeling. Therefore it was forced to trace out "mysterious ways to that which is within", which, however, led nowhere. It transformed thought into a dream of feeling; it immersed itself in the sea of emotions; it viewed the old fabled world of the nations as the reflection of a higher reality, and transformed reality into poetry; but in spite of all these efforts it was only able, to use the words of Augustine, to see from afar the land which it desired. It broke this world into fragments; but nothing remained to it, save a ray from a world beyond, which was only an indescribable "something." And yet the significance of Neoplatonism in the history of our moral culture has been, and still is, immeasurable. Not only because it refined and strengthened man's life of feeling and sensation, not only because it, more than anything else, wove the delicate veil which even to-day, whether we be religious or irreligious, we ever and again cast over the offensive impression of the brutal reality, but, above all, because it begat the consciousness that the blessedness which alone can satisfy man, is to be found somewhere else than in the sphere of knowledge. That man does not live by bread alone, is a truth that was known before Neoplatonism; but it proclaimed the profounder truth, which the earlier philosophy had failed to recognise, that man does not live by knowledge alone. Neoplatonism not only had a propadeutic significance in the past, but continues to be, even now, the source of all the moods which deny the world and strive after an ideal, but have not power to raise themselves above æsthetic feeling, and see no means of getting a clear notion of the impulse of their own heart and the land of their desire. * * * * * _Historical Origin of Neoplatonism._ The forerunners of Neoplatonism were, on the one hand, those Stoics who recognise the Platonic distinction of the sensible and supersensible world, and on the other, the so-called Neopythagoreans and religious philosophers, such as Posidonius, Plutarch of Chæronea, and especially Numenius of Apamea.[456] Nevertheless, these cannot be regarded as the actual Fathers of Neoplatonism; for the philosophic method was still very imperfect in comparison with the Neoplatonic, their principles were uncertain, and the authority of Plato was not yet regarded as placed on an unapproachable height. The Jewish and Christian philosophers of the first and second centuries stand very much nearer the later Neoplatonism than Numenius. We would probably see this more clearly if we knew the development of Christianity in Alexandria in the second century. But, unfortunately, we have only very meagre fragments to tell us of this. First and above all, we must mention Philo. This philosopher, who interpreted the Old Testament religion in terms of Hellenism, had, in accordance with his idea of revelation, already maintained that the Divine Original Essence is supra-rational, that only ecstasy leads to Him, and that the materials for religious and moral knowledge are contained in the oracles of the Deity. The religious ethic of Philo, a combination of Stoic, Platonic, Neopythagorean and Old Testament gnomic wisdom, already bears the marks which we recognise in Neoplatonism. The acknowledgment that God was exalted above all thought, was a sort of tribute which Greek philosophy was compelled to pay to the national religion of Israel, in return for the supremacy which was here granted to the former. The claim of positive religion to be something more than an intellectual conception of the universal reason, was thereby justified. Even religious syncretism is already found in Philo; but it is something essentially different from the later Neoplatonic, since Philo regarded the Jewish cult as the only valuable one, and traced back all elements of truth in the Greeks and Romans to borrowings from the books of Moses. The earliest Christian philosophers, especially Justin and Athenagoras, likewise prepared the way for the speculations of the later Neoplatonists by their attempts, on the one hand, to connect Christianity with Stoicism and Platonism, and on the other, to exhibit it as supra-Platonic. The method by which Justin, in the introduction to the Dialogue with Trypho, attempts to establish the Christian knowledge of God, that is, the knowledge of the truth, on Platonism, Scepticism and "Revelation", strikingly reminds us of the later methods of the Neoplatonists. Still more is one reminded of Neoplatonism by the speculations of the Alexandrian Christian Gnostics, especially of Valentinus and the followers of Basilides. The doctrines of the Basilidians(?) communicated by Hippolytus (Philosoph. VII. c. 20 sq.), read like fragments from the didactic writings of the Neoplatonists: [Greek: Epei ouden ên ouch hulê, ouk ousia, ouk anousion, ouch haploun, ou suntheton, ouk anoêton, ouk anaisthêton, ouk anthrôpos ... ouk ôn theos anoêtôs, anaisthêtôs aboulôs aproairetôs, apathôs, anepithumêtios kosmon êthelêse poiêsai ... Houtôs ouk ôn theos epoiêse kosmon ouk onta ex ouk ontôn, katabalomenos kai hupostêsas sperma ti en echon pasan en heautô tês tou kosmou panspermian.] Like the Neoplatonists, these Basilidians did not teach an emanation from the Godhead, but a dynamic mode of action of the Supreme Being. The same can be asserted of Valentinus who also places an unnamable being above all, and views matter not as a second principle, but as a derived product. The dependence of Basilides and Valentinus on Zeno and Plato is, besides, undoubted. But the method of these Gnostics in constructing their mental picture of the world and its history, was still an uncertain one. Crude primitive myths are here received, and naively realistic elements alternate with bold attempts at spiritualising. While therefore, philosophically considered, the Gnostic systems are very unlike the finished Neoplatonic ones, it is certain that they contained almost all the elements of the religious view of the world, which we find in Neoplatonism. But were the earliest Neoplatonists really acquainted with the speculations of men like Philo, Justin, Valentinus and Basilides? were they familiar with the Oriental religions, especially with the Jewish and the Christian? and, if we must answer these questions in the affirmative, did they really learn from these sources? Unfortunately, we cannot at present give certain, and still less detailed answers to these questions. But, as Neoplatonism originated in Alexandria, as Oriental cults confronted every one there, as the Jewish philosophy was prominent in the literary market of Alexandria, and that was the very place where scientific Christianity had its headquarters, there can, generally speaking, be no doubt that the earliest Neoplatonists had some acquaintance with Judaism and Christianity. In addition to that, we have the certain fact that the earliest Neoplatonists had discussions with (Roman) Gnostics (see Carl Schmidt, Gnostische Schriften in koptischer Sprache, pp. 603-665), and that Porphyry entered into elaborate controversy with Christianity. In comparison with the Neoplatonic philosophy, the system of Philo and the Gnostics appears in many respects an anticipation, which had a certain influence on the former, the precise nature of which has still to be ascertained. But the anticipation is not wonderful, for the religious and philosophic temper which was only gradually produced on Greek soil, existed from the first in such philosophers as took their stand on the ground of a revealed religion of redemption. Iamblichus and his followers first answer completely to the Christian Gnostic schools of the second century; that is to say, Greek philosophy, in its immanent development, did not attain till the fourth century the position which some Greek philosophers, who had accepted Christianity, had already reached in the second. The influence of Christianity--both Gnostic and Catholic--on Neoplatonism was perhaps very little at any time, though individual Neoplatonists since the time of Amelius employed Christian sayings as oracles, and testified their high esteem for Christ. _Sketch of the History and Doctrines of Neoplatonism._ Ammonius Saccas (died about 245), who is said to have been born a Christian, but to have lapsed into heathenism, is regarded as the founder of the Neoplatonic school in Alexandria. As he has left no writings, no judgment can be formed as to his teaching. His disciples inherited from him the prominence which they gave to Plato and the attempts to prove the harmony between the latter and Aristotle. His most important disciples were; Origen the Christian, a second heathen Origen, Longinus, Herennius, and, above all, Plotinus. The latter was born in the year 205, at Lycopolis in Egypt, laboured from 224 in Rome, and found numerous adherents and admirers, among others the Emperor Galienus and his consort, and died in lower Italy about 270. His writings were arranged by his disciple, Porphyry, and edited in six Enneads. The Enneads of Plotinus are the fundamental documents of Neoplatonism. The teaching of this philosopher is mystical, and, like all mysticism, it falls into two main portions. The first and theoretic part shews the high origin of the soul, and how it has departed from this its origin. The second and practical part points out the way by which the soul can again be raised to the Eternal and the Highest. As the soul with its longings aspires beyond all sensible things and even beyond the world of ideas, the Highest must be something above reason. The system therefore has three parts. I. The Original Essence. II. The world of ideas and the soul. III. The world of phenomena. We may also, in conformity with the thought of Plotinus, divide the system thus: A. The supersensible world (1. The Original Essence; 2. the world of ideas; 3. the soul). B. The world of phenomena. The Original Essence is the One in contrast to the many; it is the Infinite and Unlimited in contrast to the finite; it is the source of all being, therefore the absolute causality and the only truly existing; but it is also the Good, in so far as everything finite is to find its aim in it and to flow back to it. Yet moral attributes cannot be ascribed to this Original Essence, for these would limit it. It has no attributes at all; it is a being without magnitude, without life, without thought; nay, one should not, properly speaking, even call it an existence; it is something above existence, above goodness, and at the same time the operative force without any substratum. As operative force the Original Essence is continually begetting something else, without itself being changed or moved or diminished. This creation is not a physical process, but an emanation of force; and because that which is produced has any existence only in so far as the originally Existent works in it, it may be said that Neoplatonism is dynamical Pantheism. Everything that has being is directly or indirectly a production of the "One." In this "One" everything so far as it has being, is Divine, and God is all in all. But that which is derived is not like the Original Essence itself. On the contrary, the law of decreasing perfection prevails in the derived. The latter is indeed an image and reflection of the Original Essence, but the wider the circle of creations extends the less their share in the Original Essence. Hence the totality of being forms a gradation of concentric circles which finally lose themselves almost completely in non-being, in so far as in the last circle the force of the Original Essence is a vanishing one. Each lower stage of being is connected with the Original Essence only by means of the higher stages; that which is inferior receives a share in the Original Essence only through the medium of these. But everything derived has one feature, viz., a longing for the higher; it turns itself to this so far as its nature allows it. The first emanation of the Original Essence is the [Greek: Nous]; it is a complete image of the Original Essence and archetype of all existing things; it is being and thought at the same time, World of ideas and Idea. As image the [Greek: Nous] is equal to the Original Essence, as derived it is completely different from it. What Plotinus understands by [Greek: Nous] is the highest sphere which the human spirit can reach ([Greek: kosmos noêtos]) and at the same time pure thought itself. The soul which, according to Plotinus, is an immaterial substance like the [Greek: Nous],[457] is an image and product of the immovable [Greek: Nous]. It is related to the [Greek: Nous] as the latter is to the Original Essence. It stands between the [Greek: Nous] and the world of phenomena. The [Greek: Nous] penetrates and enlightens it, but it itself already touches the world of phenomena. The [Greek: Nous] is undivided, the soul can also preserve its unity and abide in the [Greek: Nous]; but it has at the same time the power to unite itself with the material world and thereby to be divided. Hence it occupies a middle position. In virtue of its nature and destiny it belongs, as the single soul (soul of the world), to the supersensible world; but it embraces at the same time the many individual souls; these may allow themselves to be ruled by the [Greek: Nous], or they may turn to the sensible and be lost in the finite. The soul, an active essence, begets the corporeal or the world of phenomena. This should allow itself to be so ruled by the soul that the manifold of which it consists may abide in fullest harmony. Plotinus is not a dualist like the majority of Christian Gnostics. He praises the beauty and glory of the world. When in it the idea really has dominion over matter, the soul over the body, the world is beautiful and good. It is the image of the upper world, though a shadowy one, and the gradations of better or worse in it are necessary to the harmony of the whole. But, in point of fact, the unity and harmony in the world of phenomena disappear in strife and opposition. The result is a conflict, a growth and decay, a seeming existence. The original cause of this lies in the fact that a substratum, viz., matter, lies at the basis of bodies. Matter is the foundation of each ([Greek: to bathos hekastou hê hulê]); it is the obscure, the indefinite, that which is without qualities, the [Greek: mê on]. As devoid of form and idea it is the evil, as capable of form the intermediate. The human souls that are sunk in the material have been ensnared by the sensuous, and have allowed themselves to be ruled by desire. They now seek to detach themselves entirely from true being, and striving after independence fall into an unreal existence. Conversion therefore is needed, and this is possible, for freedom is not lost. Now here begins the practical philosophy. The soul must rise again to the highest on the same path by which it descended: it must first of all return to itself. This takes place through virtue which aspires to assimilation with God and leads to Him. In the ethics of Plotinus all earlier philosophic systems of virtue are united and arranged in graduated order. Civic virtues stand lowest, then follow the purifying, and finally the deifying virtues. Civic virtues only adorn the life, but do not elevate the soul as the purifying virtues do; they free the soul from the sensuous and lead it back to itself and thereby to the [Greek: Nous]. Man becomes again a spiritual and permanent being, and frees himself from every sin, through asceticism. But he is to reach still higher; he is not only to be without sin, but he is to be "God." That takes place through the contemplation of the Original Essence, the One, that is through ecstatic elevation to Him. This is not mediated by thought, for thought reaches only to the [Greek: Nous], and is itself only a movement. Thought is only a preliminary stage towards union with God. The soul can only see and touch the Original Essence in a condition of complete passivity and rest. Hence, in order to attain to this highest, the soul must subject itself to a spiritual "Exercise." It must begin with the contemplation of material things, their diversity and harmony, then retire into itself and sink itself in its own essence, and thence mount up to the [Greek: Nous], to the world of ideas; but, as it still does not find the One and Highest Essence there, as the call always comes to it from there: "We have not made ourselves" (Augustine in the sublime description of Christian, that is, Neoplatonic exercises), it must, as it were, lose sight of itself in a state of intense concentration, in mute contemplation and complete forgetfulness of all things. It can then see God, the source of life, the principle of being, the first cause of all good, the root of the soul. In that moment it enjoys the highest and indescribable blessedness; it is itself, as it were, swallowed up by the deity and bathed in the light of eternity. Plotinus, as Porphyry relates, attained to this ecstatic union with God four times during the six years he was with him. To Plotinus this religious philosophy was sufficient; he did not require the popular religion and worship. But yet he sought their support. The Deity is indeed in the last resort only the Original Essence, but it manifests itself in a fulness of emanations and phenomena. The [Greek: Nous] is, as it were, the second God; the [Greek: logoi], which are included in it, are gods; the stars are gods, etc. A strict monotheism appeared to Plotinus a poor thing. The myths of the popular religion were interpreted by him in a particular sense, and he could justify even magic, soothsaying and prayer. He brought forward reasons for the worship of images, which the Christian worshippers of images subsequently adopted. Yet, in comparison with the later Neoplatonists, he was free from gross superstition and wild fanaticism. He cannot, in the remotest sense, be reckoned among the "deceivers who were themselves deceived," and the restoration of the ancient worships of the Gods was not his chief aim. Among his disciples the most important were Amelius and Porphyry. Amelius changed the doctrine of Plotinus in some points, and even made use of the prologue of the Gospel of John. Porphyry has the merit of having systematized and spread the teaching of his master, Plotinus. He was born at Tyre, in the year 233; whether he was for some time a Christian is uncertain; from 263-268 he was a pupil of Plotinus at Rome; before that he wrote the work [Greek: peri tês ek logiôn philosophias], which shews that he wished to base philosophy on revelation; he lived a few years in Sicily (about 270) where he wrote his "fifteen books against the Christians"; he then returned to Rome where he laboured as a teacher, edited the works of Plotinus, wrote himself a series of treatises, married, in his old age, the Roman Lady Marcella, and died about the year 303. Porphyry was not an original, productive thinker, but a diligent and thorough investigator, characterized by great learning, by the gift of an acute faculty for philological and historical criticism, and by an earnest desire to spread the true philosophy of life, to refute false doctrines, especially those of the Christians, to ennoble man and draw him to that which is good. That a mind so free and noble surrendered itself entirely to the philosophy of Plotinus and to polytheistic mysticism, is a proof that the spirit of the age works almost irresistibly, and that religious mysticism was the highest possession of the time. The teaching of Porphyry is distinguished from that of Plotinus by the fact that it is still more practical and religious. The aim of philosophy, according to Porphyry, is the salvation of the soul. The origin and the guilt of evil lie not in the body, but in the desires of the soul. The strictest asceticism (abstinence from cohabitation, flesh and wine) is therefore required in addition to the knowledge of God. During the course of his life Porphyry warned men more and more decidedly against crude popular beliefs and immoral cults. "The ordinary notions of the Deity are of such a kind that it is more godless to share them than to neglect the images of the gods." But freely as he criticised the popular religions, he did not wish to give them up. He contended for a pure worship of the many gods, and recognised the right of every old national religion, and the religious duties of their professors. His work against the Christians is not directed against Christ, or what he regarded as the teaching of Christ, but against the Christians of his day and against the sacred books which, according to Porphyry, were written by impostors and ignorant people. In his acute criticism of the genesis or what was regarded as Christianity in his day, he spoke bitter and earnest truths, and therefore acquired the name of the fiercest and most formidable of all the enemies of Christians. His work was destroyed (condemned by an edict of Theodosius II. and Valentinian, of the year 448), and even the writings in reply (by Methodius, Eusebius, Apollinaris, Philostorgius, etc.,) have not been preserved. Yet we possess fragments in Lactantius, Augustine, Macarius Magnes and others, which attest how thoroughly Porphyry studied the Christian writings and how great his faculty was for true historical criticism. Porphyry marks the transition to the Neoplatonism which subordinated itself entirely to the polytheistic cults, and which strove, above all, to defend the old Greek and Oriental religions against the formidable assaults of Christianity. Iamblichus, the disciple of Porphyry (died 330), transformed Neoplatonism "from a philosophic theorem into a theological doctrine." The doctrines peculiar to Iamblichus can no longer be deduced from scientific, but only from practical motives. In order to justify superstition and the ancient cults, philosophy in Iamblichus becomes a theurgic, mysteriosophy, spiritualism. Now appears that series of "Philosophers", in whose case one is frequently unable to decide whether they are deceivers or deceived, "decepti deceptores," as Augustine says. A mysterious mysticism of numbers plays a great rôle. That which is absurd and mechanical is surrounded with the halo of the sacramental; myths are proved by pious fancies and pietistic considerations with a spiritual sound; miracles, even the most foolish, are believed in and are performed. The philosopher becomes the priest of magic, and philosophy an instrument of magic. At the same time, the number of Divine Beings is infinitely increased by the further action of unlimited speculation. But this fantastic addition which Iamblichus makes to the inhabitants of Olympus, is the very fact which proves that Greek philosophy has here returned to mythology, and that the religion of nature was still a power. And yet no one can deny that, in the fourth century, even the noblest and choicest minds were found among the Neoplatonists. So great was the declension, that this Neoplatonic philosophy was still the protecting roof for many influential and earnest thinkers, although swindlers and hypocrites also concealed themselves under this roof. In relation to some points of doctrine, at any rate, the dogmatic of Iamblichus marks an advance. Thus, the emphasis he lays on the idea that evil has its seat in the will, is an important fact; and in general the significance he assigns to the will is perhaps the most important advance in psychology, and one which could not fail to have great influence on dogmatic also (Augustine). It likewise deserves to be noted that Iamblichus disputed Plotinus' doctrine of the divinity of the human soul. The numerous disciples of Iamblichus (Aedesius, Chrysantius, Eusebius, Priscus, Sopater, Sallust and especially Maximus, the most celebrated) did little to further speculation; they occupied themselves partly with commenting on the writings of the earlier philosophers (particularly Themistius), partly as missionaries of their mysticism. The interests and aims of these philosophers are best shewn in the treatise "De mysteriis Ægyptiorum." Their hopes were strengthened when their disciple Julian, a man enthusiastic and noble, but lacking in intellectual originality, ascended the imperial throne, 361 to 363. This emperor's romantic policy of restoration, as he himself must have seen, had, however, no result, and his early death destroyed ever hope of supplanting Christianity. But the victory of the Church, in the age of Valentinian and Theodosius, unquestionably purified Neoplatonism. The struggle for dominion had led philosophers to grasp at and unite themselves with everything that was hostile to Christianity. But now Neoplatonism was driven out of the great arena of history. The Church and its dogmatic, which inherited its estate, received along with the latter superstition, polytheism, magic, myths and the apparatus of religious magic. The more firmly all this established itself in the Church and succeeded there, though not without finding resistance, the freer Neoplatonism becomes. It does not by any means give up its religious attitude or its theory of knowledge, but it applies itself with fresh zeal to scientific investigations and especially to the study of the earlier philosophers. Though Plato remains the divine philosopher, yet it may be noticed how, from about 400, the writings of Aristotle were increasingly read and prized. Neoplatonic schools continue to flourish in the chief cities of the empire up to the beginning of the fifth century, and in this period they are at the same time the places where the theologians of the Church are formed. The noble Hypatia, to whom Synesius, her enthusiastic disciple, who was afterwards a bishop, raised a splendid monument, taught in Alexandria. But from the beginning of the fifth century ecclesiastical fanaticism ceased to tolerate heathenism. The murder of Hypatia put an end to philosophy in Alexandria, though the Alexandrian school maintained itself in a feeble form till the middle of the sixth century. But in one city of the East, removed from the great highways of the world, which had become a provincial city and possessed memories which the Church of the fifth century felt itself too weak to destroy, viz., in Athens, a Neoplatonic school continued to flourish. There, among the monuments of a past time, Hellenism found its last asylum. The school of Athens returned to a more strict philosophic method and to learned studies. But as it clung to religious philosophy and undertook to reduce the whole Greek tradition, viewed in the light of Plotinus' theory, to a comprehensive and strictly articulated system, a philosophy arose here which may be called scholastic. For every philosophy is scholastic which considers fantastic and mythological material as a _noli me tangere_, and treats it in logical categories and distinctions by means of a complete set of formulæ. But to these Neoplatonists the writings of Plato, certain divine oracles, the Orphic poems, and much else which were dated back to the dim and distant past, were documents of standard authority, and inspired divine writings. They took from them the material of philosophy, which they then treated with all the instruments of dialectic. The most prominent teachers at Athens were Plutarch (died 433), his disciple Syrian (who, as an exegete of Plato and Aristotle, is said to have done important work, and who deserves notice also, because he very vigorously emphasised the freedom of the will), but, above all, Proclus (411-485). Proclus is the great scholastic of Neoplatonism. It was he "who fashioned the whole traditional material into a powerful system with religious warmth and formal clearness, filling up the gaps and reconciling the contradictions by distinctions and speculations," "Proclus," says Zeller, "was the first who, by the strict logic of his system, formally completed the Neoplatonic philosophy and gave it, with due regard to all the changes it had undergone since the second century, that form in which it passed over to the Christian and Mohammedan middle ages." Forty-four years after the death of Proclus the school of Athens was closed by Justinian (in the year 529); but in the labours of Proclus it had completed its work, and could now really retire from the scene. It had nothing new to say; it was ripe for death, and an honourable end was prepared for it. The words of Proclus, the legacy of Hellenism to the Church and to the middle ages, attained an immeasurable importance in the thousand years which followed. They were not only one of the bridges by which the philosophy of the middle ages returned to Plato and Aristotle, but they determined the scientific method of the next thirty generations, and they partly produced, partly strengthened and brought to maturity the mediæval Christian mysticism in East and West. The disciples of Proclus, Marinus, Asclepiodotus, Ammonius, Zenodotus, Isidorus, Hegias, Damascius, are not regarded as prominent. Damascius was the last head of the school at Athens. He, Simplicius, the masterly commentator on Aristotle, and five other Neoplatonists, migrated to Persia after Justinian had issued the edict closing the school. They lived in the illusion that Persia, the land of the East, was the seat of wisdom, righteousness and piety. After a few years they returned with blasted hopes to the Byzantine kingdom. At the beginning of the sixth century Neoplatonism died out as an independent philosophy in the East; but almost at the same time, and this is no accident, it conquered new regions in the dogmatic of the Church through the spread of the writings of the pseudo-Dionysius; it began to fertilize Christian mysticism, and filled the worship with a new charm. In the West, where, from the second century, we meet with few attempts at philosophic speculation, and where the necessary conditions for mystical contemplation were wanting, Neoplatonism only gained a few adherents here and there. We know that the rhetorician, Marius Victorinus, (about 350) translated the writings of Plotinus. This translation exercised decisive influence on the mental history of Augustine, who borrowed from Neoplatonism the best it had, its psychology, introduced it into the dogmatic of the Church, and developed it still further. It may be said that Neoplatonism influenced the West at first only through the medium or under the cloak of ecclesiastical theology. Even Boethius--we can now regard this as certain--was a Catholic Christian. But in his mode of thought he was certainly a Neoplatonist. His violent death in the year 525, marks the end of independent philosophic effort in the West. This last Roman philosopher stood indeed almost completely alone in his century, and the philosophy for which he lived was neither original, nor firmly grounded and methodically carried out. _Neoplatonism and Ecclesiastical Dogmatic._ The question as to the influence which Neoplatonism had on the history of the development of Christianity, is not easy to answer; it is hardly possible to get a clear view of the relation between them. Above all, the answers will diverge according as we take a wider or a narrower view of so-called "Neoplatonism." If we view Neoplatonism as the highest and only appropriate expression for the religious hopes and moods which moved the nations of Græco-Roman Empire from the second to the fifth centuries, the ecclesiastical dogmatic which was developed in the same period, may appear as a younger sister of Neoplatonism which was fostered by the elder one, but which fought and finally conquered her. The Neoplatonists themselves described the ecclesiastical theologians as intruders who appropriated Greek philosophy, but mixed it with foreign fables. Hence Porphyry said of Origen (in Euseb., H. E. VI. 19): "The outer life of Origen was that of a Christian and opposed to the law; but, in regard to his views of things and of the Deity, he thought like the Greeks, inasmuch as he introduced their ideas into the myths of other peoples." This judgment of Porphyry is at any rate more just and appropriate than that of the Church theologians about Greek philosophy, that it had stolen all its really valuable doctrines from the ancient sacred writings of the Christians. It is, above all, important that the affinity of the two sides was noted. So far, then, as both ecclesiastical dogmatic and Neoplatonism start from the feeling of the need of redemption, so far as both desire to free the soul from the sensuous, so far as they recognise the inability of man to attain to blessedness and a certain knowledge of the truth without divine help and without a revelation, they are fundamentally related. It must no doubt be admitted that Christianity itself was already profoundly affected by the influence of Hellenism when it began to outline a theology; but this influence must be traced back less to philosophy than to the collective culture, and to all the conditions under which the spiritual life was enacted. When Neoplatonism arose ecclesiastical Christianity already possessed the fundamental features of its theology, that is, it had developed these, not by accident, contemporaneously and independent of Neoplatonism. Only by identifying itself with the whole history of Greek philosophy, or claiming to be the restoration of pure Platonism, was Neoplatonism able to maintain that it had been robbed by the church theology of Alexandria. But that was an illusion. Ecclesiastical theology appears, though our sources here are unfortunately very meagre, to have learned but little from Neoplatonism even in the third century, partly because the latter itself had not yet developed into the form in which the dogmatic of the church could assume its doctrines, partly because ecclesiastical theology had first to succeed in its own region, to fight for its own position and to conquer older notions intolerable to it. Origen was quite as independent a thinker as Plotinus; but both drew from the same tradition. On the other hand, the influence of Neoplatonism on the Oriental theologians was very great from the fourth century. The more the Church expressed its peculiar ideas in doctrines which, though worked out by means of philosophy, were yet unacceptable to Neoplatonism (the christological doctrines), the more readily did theologians in all other questions resign themselves to the influence of the latter system. The doctrines of the incarnation, of the resurrection of the body, and of the creation of the word, in time formed the boundary lines between the dogmatic of the Church and Neoplatonism; in all else ecclesiastical theologians and Neoplatonists approximated so closely that many among them were completely at one. Nay, there were Christian men, such as Synesius, for example, who in certain circumstances were not found fault with for giving a speculative interpretation of the specifically Christian doctrines. If in any writing the doctrines just named are not referred to, it is often doubtful whether it was composed by a Christian or a Neoplatonist. Above all, the ethical rules, the precepts of the right life, that is, asceticism, were always similar. Here Neoplatonism in the end celebrated its greatest triumph. It introduced into the church its entire mysticism, its mystic exercises, and even the magical ceremonies, as expounded by Iamblichus. The writings of the pseudo-Dionysius contain a Gnosis in which, by means of the doctrines of Iamblichus and doctrines like those of Proclus, the dogmatic of the church is changed into a scholastic mysticism with directions for practical life and worship. As the writings of this pseudo-Dionysius were regarded as those of Dionysius the disciple of the Apostle, the scholastic mysticism which they taught was regarded as apostolic, almost as a divine science. The importance which these writings obtained first in the East, then from the ninth or the twelfth century also in the West, cannot be too highly estimated. It is impossible to explain them here. This much only may be said, that the mystical and pietistic devotion of to-day, even in the Protestant Church, draws its nourishment from writings whose connection with those of the pseudo-Areopagitic can still be traced through its various intermediate stages. In antiquity itself Neoplatonism influenced with special directness one Western theologian, and that the most important, viz., Augustine. By the aid of this system Augustine was freed from Manichæism, though not completely, as well as from scepticism. In the seventh Book of his confessions he has acknowledged his indebtedness to the reading of Neoplatonic writings. In the most essential doctrines, viz., those about God, matter, the relation of God to the world, freedom and evil, Augustine always remained dependent on Neoplatonism; but at the same time, of all theologians in antiquity he is the one who saw most clearly and shewed most plainly wherein Christianity and Neoplatonism are distinguished. The best that has been written by a Father of the Church on this subject, is contained in Chapters 9-21 of the seventh Book of his confessions. The question why Neoplatonism was defeated in the conflict with Christianity, has not as yet been satisfactorily answered by historians. Usually the question is wrongly stated. The point here is not about a Christianity arbitrarily fashioned, but only about Catholic Christianity and Catholic theology. This conquered Neoplatonism after it had assimilated nearly everything it possessed. Further, we must note the place where the victory was gained. The battle-field was the empire of Constantine, Theodosius and Justinian. Only when we have considered these and all other conditions, are we entitled to enquire in what degree the specific doctrines of Christianity contributed to the victory, and what share the organisation of the church had in it. Undoubtedly, however, we must always give the chief prominence to the fact that the Catholic dogmatic excluded polytheism in principle, and at the same time found a means by which it could represent the faith of the cultured mediated by science as identical with the faith of the multitude resting on authority. In the theology and philosophy of the middle ages, mysticism was the strong opponent of rationalistic dogmatism; and, in fact, Platonism and Neoplatonism were the sources from which in the age of the Renaissance and in the following two centuries, empiric science developed itself in opposition to the rationalistic dogmatism which disregarded experience. Magic, astrology, alchemy, all of which were closely connected with Neoplatonism, gave an effective impulse to the observation of nature and, consequently, to natural science, and finally prevailed over formal and barren rationalism Consequently, in the history of science, Neoplatonism has attained a significance and performed services of which men like Iamblichus and Proclus never ventured to dream. In point of fact, actual history is often more wonderful and capricious than legends and fables. _Literature_--The best and fullest account of Neoplatonism, to which I have been much indebted in preparing this sketch, is Zeller's, Die Philosophie der Griechen, III. Theil, 2 Abtheilung (3 Auflage, 1881) pp. 419-865. Cf. also Hegel, Gesch. d. Philos. III. 3 ff. Ritter, IV. pp. 571-728: Ritter et Preller, Hist. phil. græc. et rom. § 531 ff. The Histories of Philosophy by Schwegler, Brandis, Brucker, Thilo, Strümpell, Ueberweg (the most complete survey of the literature is found here), Erdmann, Cousin, Prantl. Lewes. Further: Vacherot, Hist, de l'ecole d'Alexandria, 1846, 1851. Simon, Hist, de l'école d'Alexandria, 1845. Steinhart, articles "Neuplatonismus", "Plotin", "Porphyrius", "Proklus" in Pauly, Realencyclop. des klass. Alterthums. Wagenmann, article "Neuplatonismus" in Herzog, Realencyklopädie f. protest. Theol. T. X. (2 Aufl.) pp. 519-529. Heinze, Lehre vom Logos, 1872, p. 298 f. Richter, Neuplatonische Studien, 4 Hefte. Heigl, Der Bericht des Porphyrios über Ongenes, 1835. Redepenning, Origenes I. p. 421 f. Dehaut, Essai historique sur la vie et la doctrine d'Ammonius Saccas, 1836. Kirchner, Die Philosophie des Plotin, 1854. (For the biography of Plotinus, cf. Porphyry, Eunapius, Suidas; the latter also in particular for the later Neoplatonists). Steinhart, De dialectica Plotini ratione, 1829, and Meletemata Plotiniana, 1840. Neander, Ueber die welthistorische Bedeutung des 9'ten Buchs in der 2'ten Enneade des Plotinos, in the Abhandl. der Berliner Akademie, 1843. p. 299 f. Valentiner, Plotin u.s. Enneaden, in the Theol. Stud. u. Kritiken, 1864, H. 1. On Porphyrius, see Fabricius, Bibl. gr. V. p. 725 f. Wolff, Porph. de philosophia ex oraculis haurienda librorum reliquiæ, 1856. Müller, Fragmenta hist. gr. III. 688 f. Mai, Ep. ad Marcellam, 1816. Bernays, Theophrast. 1866. Wagenmann, Jahrbücher für Deutsche Theol. Th. XXIII. (1878) p. 269 f. Richter, Zeitschr. f. Philos. Th. LII. (1867) p. 30 f. Hebenstreit, de Iamblichi doctrina, 1764. Harless, Das Buch von den ägyptischen Mysterien, 1858. Meiners, Comment. Societ. Gotting IV. p. 50 f. On Julian, see the catalogue of the rich literature in the Realencyklop. f. prot Theol. Th. VII. (2 Aufl.) p. 287, and Neumann, Juliani libr. c. Christ, quæ supersunt, 1880. Hoche, Hypatia, in "Philologus" Th. XV. (1860) p. 435 f. Bach, De Syriano philosopho, 1862. On Proclus, see the Biography of Marinus and Freudenthal in "Hermes" Th. XVI. p. 214 f. On Boethius, cf. Nitzsch, Das System des Boëthius, 1860. Usener, Anecdoton Holderi, 1877. On the relation of Neoplatonism to Christianity and its significance in the history of the world, cf. the Church Histories of Mosheim, Gieseler, Neander, Baur; also the Histories of Dogma by Baur and Nitzsch. Also Löffler, Der Platonismus der Kirchenväter, 1782. Huber, Die Philosophic der Kirchenväter, 1859. Tzschirner, Fall des Heidenthums, 1829. Burckhardt, Die Zeit Constantin's des Grossen, p. 155 f. Chastel, Hist. de la destruction du Paganisme dans l'empire d'Orient, 1850. Beugnot, Hist. de la destruction du Paganisme en Occident, 1835. E. V. Lasaulx, Der Untergang des Hellenismus, 1854. Bigg, The Christian Platonists of Alexandria 1886. Réville, La réligion à Rome sous les Sévères, 1886. Vogt, Neuplatonismus und Christenthum, 1836. Ullmann, Einfluss des Christenthums auf Porphyrius, in Stud, und Krit., 1832 On the relation of Neoplatonism to Monasticism, cf. Keim, Aus dem Urchristenthum, 1178, p. 204 f. Carl Schmidt, Gnostische Schriften in Koptischer Sprache, 1892 (Texte u. Unters. VIII. I. 2). See, further, the Monographs on Origen, the later Alexandrians, the three Cappadocians, Theodoret, Synesius, Marius Victorinus, Augustine, Pseudo-Dionysius, Maximus, Scotus Erigena and the Mediæval Mystics. Special prominence is due to: Jahn, Basilius Plotinizans, 1838. Dorner, Augustinus, 1875. Bestmann, Qua ratione Augustinus notiones philos. Græcæ adhibuerit, 1877. Loesche, Augustinus Plotinizans, 1881. Volkmann, Synesios, 1869. On the after effects of Neoplatonism on Christian Dogmatic, see Ritschl, Theologie und Metaphysik. 2 Aufl. 1887. [Footnote 455: Excellent remarks on the nature of Neoplatonism may be found in Eucken, Gött. Gel. Anz., 1 März, 1884 p. 176 ff.: this sketch was already written before I saw them. "We find the characteristic of the Neoplatonic epoch in the effort to make the inward, which till then had had alongside of it an independent outer world as a contrast, the exclusive and all-determining element. The movement which makes itself felt here, outlasts antiquity and prepares the way for the modern period; it brings about the dissolution of that which marked the culminating point of ancient life, that which we are wont to call specifically classic. The life of the spirit, till then conceived as a member of an ordered world and subject to its laws, now freely passes beyond these bounds, and attempts to mould, and even to create, the universe from itself. No doubt the different attempts to realise this desire reveal, for the most part, a deep gulf between will and deed; usually ethical and religious requirements of the naive human consciousness must replace universally creative spiritual power, but all the insufficient and unsatisfactory elements of this period should not obscure the fact that, in one instance, it reached the height of a great philosophic achievement, in the case of Plotinus."] [Footnote 456: Plotinus, even in his lifetime, was reproached with having borrowed most of his system from Numenius. Porphyry, in his "Vita Plotini", defended him against this reproach.] [Footnote 457: On this sort of Trinity, see Bigg, "The Christian Platonists of Alexandria," p. 248 f.] 
26990	----	HOLY IN CHRIST: Thoughts on the Calling of God's Children to be Holy as He is Holy. BY REV. ANDREW MURRAY, AUTHOR OF 'ABIDE IN CHRIST,' 'LIKE CHRIST,' ETC. _'I am holy: ye shall be holy.'_ FLEMING H. REVELL COMPANY, CHICAGO, NEW YORK, TORONTO, Publishers of Evangelical Literature. PREFACE. There is not in Scripture a word more distinctly Divine in its origin and meaning than the word holy. There is not a word that leads us higher into the mystery of Deity, nor deeper into the privilege and the blessedness of God's children. And yet it is a word that many a Christian has never studied or understood. There are not a few who can praise God that during the past twenty years the watchword BE HOLY has been taken up in many a church and Christian circle with greater earnestness than before. In books and magazines, in conventions and conferences, in the testimonies and the lives of believers, we have abundant tokens that what is called the Holiness-movement is a reality. And yet how much is still wanting! What multitudes of believing Christians there are who have none but the very vaguest thoughts of what holiness is! And of those who are seeking after it how many who have hardly learnt what it is to come to God's Word and to God Himself for the teaching that can alone reveal this part of the mystery of Christ and of God! To many, holiness has simply been a general expression for the Christian life in its more earnest form, without much thought of what the term really means. In writing this little book, my object has been to discover in what sense God uses the word, that so it may mean to us what it means to Him. I have sought to trace the word through some of the most important passages of Holy Scripture where it occurs, there to learn what God's holiness is, what ours is to be, and what the way by which we attain it. I have been specially anxious to point out how many and various the elements are that go to make up true holiness as the Divine expression of the Christian life in all its fulness and perfection. I have at the same time striven continually to keep in mind the wonderful unity and simplicity there is in it, as centred in the person of Jesus. As I proceeded in my work, I felt ever more deeply how high the task was I had undertaken in offering to guide others even into the outer courts of the Holy Place of the Most High. And yet the very difficulty of the task convinced me of how needful it was. I fear there are some to whom the book may be a disappointment. They have heard that the entrance to the life of holiness is often but a step. They have heard of or seen believers who could tell of the blessed change that has come over their lives since they found the wonderful secret of holiness by faith. And now they are seeking for this secret. They cannot understand that the secret comes to those who seek it not, but only seek Jesus. They might fain have a book in which all they need to know of Holiness and the way to it is gathered into a few simple lessons, easy to learn, to remember, and to practise. This they will not find. There is such a thing as a Pentecost still to the disciples of Jesus; but it comes to him who has forsaken all to follow Jesus only, and in following fully has allowed the Master to reprove and instruct him. There are often very blessed revelations of Christ, as a Saviour from sin, both in the secret chamber and in the meetings of the saints; but these are given to those for whom they have been prepared, and who have been prepared to receive. Let all learn to trust in Jesus, and rejoice in Him, even though their experience be not what they would wish. He will make us holy. But whether we have entered the blessed life of faith in Jesus as our sanctification, or are still longing for it from afar, we all need one thing, the simple, believing, and obedient acceptance of each word that our God has spoken. It has been my earnest desire that I might be a helper of the faith of my brethren in seeking to trace with them the wondrous revelation of God's Holiness through the ages as recorded in His blessed Word. It has been my continual prayer that God might use what is written to increase in His children the conviction that we must be holy, the knowledge of how we are to be holy, the joy that we may be holy, the faith that we can be holy. And may He stir us all to cry day and night to Him for a visitation of the Spirit and the Power of Holiness upon all His people, that the name of Christian and of saint may be synonymous, and every believer be a vessel made holy and meet for the Master's use. A. M. Wellington, _16th November 1887_. CONTENTS. DAY PAGE 1. God's Call to Holiness--1 Pet. i. 15, 16, 11 2. God's Provision for Holiness--1 Cor. i. 2, 19 3. Holiness and Creation--Gen. ii. 3, 28 4. Holiness and Revelation--Ex. iii. 4-6, 36 5. Holiness and Redemption--Ex. xiii. 2, 46 6. Holiness and Glory--Ex. xv. 11-17, 55 7. Holiness and Obedience--Ex. xix. 5, 6, 64 8. Holiness and Indwelling--Ex. xxv. 8, 73 9. Holiness and Meditation--Ex. xxviii. 36-38, 81 10. Holiness and Separation--Lev. xx. 24, 26, 89 11. The Holy One of Israel--Lev. xi. 45, 98 12. The Thrice Holy One--Isa. vi. 1-3, 107 13. Holiness and Humility--Isa. lvii. 15, 117 14. The Holy One of God--John vi. 69, 125 15. The Holy Spirit--John vii. 39, 133 16. Holiness and Truth--John xvii. 17, 142 17. Holiness and Crucifixion--John xvii. 19, 150 18. Holiness and Faith--Acts xxvi. 18, 158 19. Holiness and Resurrection--Rom. i. 4, 167 20. Holiness and Liberty--Rom. vi. 18-22, 175 21. Holiness and Happiness--Rom. xiv. 17, 184 22. In Christ our Sanctification--1 Cor. i. 30, 31, 192 23. Holiness and the Body--1 Cor. iii. 16, 201 24. Holiness and Cleansing--2 Cor. vii. 1, 210 25. Holiness and Blamelessness--1 Thess. iii. 12, 13, 219 26. Holiness and the Will of God--1 Thess. iv. 3, 227 27. Holiness and Service--2 Tim. ii. 21, 235 28. The Way into the Holiest--Heb. x. 19, 243 29. Holiness and Chastisement--Heb. xii. 10, 14, 253 30. The Unction from the Holy One--1 John ii. 20, 27, 262 31. Holiness and Heaven--2 Pet. iii. 11, 271 Notes, 281 First Day. HOLY IN CHRIST. God's Call to Holiness. 'Like as He which called you is _holy_, be ye yourselves also _holy_ in all manner of living; because it is written, Ye shall be _holy_, for I am _holy_.'--1 Pet. i. 15, 16. The call of God is the manifestation in time of the purpose of eternity: 'Whom He predestinated, them He also _called_.' Believers are 'the _called_ according to His purpose.' In His call He reveals to us what His thoughts and His will concerning us are, and what the life to which He invites us. In His call He makes clear to us what the hope of our calling is; as we spiritually apprehend and enter into this, our life on earth will be the reflection of His purpose in eternity. Holy Scripture uses more than one word to indicate the object or aim of our calling, but none more frequently than what Peter speaks of here--God has called us _to be holy_ as He is holy. Paul addresses believers twice as 'called to be _holy_' (Rom. i. 7; 1 Cor. i. 2). 'God called us', he says, 'not for uncleanness, but _in sanctification_' (1 Thess. iv. 7). When he writes, 'The God of peace _sanctify_ you wholly,' he adds, 'Faithful is He which _calleth_ you, who also will do it' (1 Thess. v. 24). The calling itself is spoken of as 'a _holy_ calling.' The eternal purpose of which the calling is the outcome, is continually also connected with holiness as its aim. 'He hath _chosen_ us in Him, that we should be _holy_ and without blame' (Eph. i. 4). 'Whom God _chose_ from the beginning unto _salvation in sanctification_' (2 Thess. ii. 12). '_Elect_ according to the foreknowledge of the Father, through _sanctification_ of the Spirit' (1 Pet. i. 2). The call is the unveiling of the purpose that the Father from eternity had set His heart upon: that we should be holy. It needs no proof that it is of infinite importance to know aright what God has called us to. A misunderstanding here may have fatal results. You may have heard that God calls you to salvation or to happiness, to receive pardon or to obtain heaven, and never noticed that all these were subordinate. It was to 'salvation _in sanctification_,' it was to Holiness in the first place, as the element in which salvation and heaven are to be found. The complaints of many Christians as to lack of joy and strength, as to failure and want of growth, are simply owing to this--the place God gave Holiness in His call they have not given it in their response. God and they have never yet come to an agreement on this. No wonder that Paul, in the chapter in which he had spoken to the Ephesians of their being 'chosen to be holy' prays for the spirit of wisdom and revelation in the knowledge of God to be given to believers, that they might know 'the hope of their _calling_' (i. 17, 18). Let all of us, who feel that we have too little realized that we are called to Holiness, pray this prayer. It is just what we need. Let us ask God to show us how, as He who hath called us is Himself holy, so we are to be holy too; our calling is a holy calling, a calling before and above everything, to Holiness. Let us ask Him to show us what Holiness is, His Holiness first, and then our Holiness; to show us how He has set His heart upon it as the one thing He wants to see in us, as being His own image and likeness; to show us too the unutterable blessedness and glory of sharing with Christ in His Holiness. Oh! that God by His Spirit would teach us what it means that we are called to be holy as He is holy. We can easily conceive what a mighty influence it would exert. 'Like as He which called you is holy, be ye yourselves also holy'. How this call of God shows us the true _motive_ to Holiness. 'Be ye holy, for I am holy.' It is as if God said, Holiness is my blessedness and my glory: without this you cannot, in the very nature of things, see me or enjoy me. Holiness is my blessedness and my glory: there is nothing higher to be conceived; I invite you to share with me in it, I invite you to likeness to myself: 'Be ye holy, for I am holy.' Is it not enough, has it no attraction, does it not move and draw you mightily, the hope of being with me, partakers of my Holiness? I have nothing better to offer--I offer you myself: 'Be holy, for I am holy.' Shall we not cry earnestly to God to show us the glory of His Holiness, that our souls may be made willing to give everything in response to this wondrous call? As we listen to the call, it shows also the _nature_ of true Holiness. '_Like as_ He is holy, so be ye also holy.' To be holy is to be Godlike, to have a disposition, a will, a character like God. The thought almost looks like blasphemy, until we listen again, 'He hath chosen us _in Christ_ to be holy.' In Christ the Holiness of God appeared in a human life: in Christ's example, in His mind and Spirit, we have the Holiness of the Invisible One translated into the forms of human life and conduct. To be Christlike is to be Godlike; to be Christlike is to be holy as God is holy. The call equally reveals the _power_ of Holiness. 'There is none holy but the Lord;' there is no Holiness but what He has, or rather what He is, and gives. Holiness is not something we do or attain: it is the communication of the Divine life, the inbreathing of the Divine nature, the power of the Divine Presence resting on us. And our power to become holy is to be found in the call of God: the Holy One calls us to Himself, that He may make us holy in possessing Himself. He not only says 'I am holy,' but 'I am the Lord, who make holy.' It is because the call to Holiness comes from the God of infinite Power and Love that we may have the confidence: we can be holy. The call no less reveals the _standard_ of Holiness. '_Like as He_ is holy, _so ye also_ yourselves,' or (as in margin, R.V.), 'Like the Holy One, which calleth you, be ye yourselves also holy.' There is not one standard of Holiness for God and another for man. The nature of light is the same, whether we see it in the sun or in a candle: the nature of Holiness remains unchanged, whether it be God or man in whom it dwells. The Lord Jesus could say nothing less than, 'Be perfect, even as your Father in heaven is perfect.' When God calls us to Holiness, He calls us to Himself and His own life: the more carefully we listen to the voice, and let it sink into our hearts, the more will all human standards fall away, and only the words be heard, Holy, as I am holy. And the call shows us the _path_ to Holiness. The calling of God is one of mighty efficacy, an effectual calling. Oh! let us but listen to it, let us but listen to Him, and the call will with Divine power work what it offers. He calleth the things that are not as though they were: His call gives life to the dead, and holiness to those whom He has made alive. He calls us to listen as He speaks of His Holiness, and of our holiness like His. He calls us to Himself, to study, to fear, to love, to claim His Holiness. He calls us to Christ, in whom Divine Holiness became human Holiness, to see and admire, to desire and accept what is all for us. He calls us to the indwelling and the teaching of the Spirit of Holiness, to yield ourselves that He may bring home to us and breathe within us what is ours in Christ. Christian! listen to God calling thee to Holiness. Come and learn what His Holiness is, and what thine is and must be. Yes, be very silent and listen. When God called Abraham, he answered, Here am I. When God called Moses from the bush, he answered, Here am I, and he hid his face, for he was afraid to look upon God. God is calling thee to Holiness, to Himself the Holy One, that He may make thee holy. Let thy whole soul answer, Here am I, Lord! Speak, Lord! Show Thyself, Lord! Here am I. As you listen, the voice will sound ever deeper and ever stiller: Be holy, _as_ I am holy. Be holy, _for_ I am holy. You will hear a voice coming out of the great eternity, from the council-chamber of redemption, and as you catch its distant whisper, it will be, Be holy, I am holy. You will hear a voice from Paradise, the Creator making the seventh day holy for man whom He had created, and saying, Be holy. You will hear the voice from Sinai, amid thunderings and lightnings, and still it is, Be holy, as I am holy. You will hear a voice from Calvary, and there above all it is, Be holy, for I am holy. Child of God, have you ever realized it, our Father is calling us to Himself, to be holy as He is holy? Must we not confess that happiness has been to us more than holiness, salvation than sanctification? Oh! it is not too late to redeem the error. Let us now band ourselves together to listen to the voice that calls, to draw nigh, and find out and know what Holiness is, or rather, find out and know Himself the Holy One. And if the first approach to Him fill us with shame and confusion, make us fear and shrink back, let us still listen to the Voice and the Call, 'Be holy, as I am holy.' 'Faithful is He which _calleth_, who also _will do it_.' All our fears and questions will be met by the Holy One who has revealed His Holiness, with this one purpose in view, that we might share it with Him. As we yield ourselves in deep stillness of soul to listen to the Holy Voice that calls us, it will waken within us new desire and strong faith, and the most precious of all promises will be to us this word of Divine command: BE HOLY, FOR I AM HOLY. O Lord! the alone Holy One, Thou hast called us to be holy, even as Thou art holy. Lord! how can we, unless Thou reveal to us Thy Holiness. Show us, we pray Thee, how Thou art holy, how holy Thou art, what Thy holiness is, that we may know how we are to be holy, how holy we are to be. And when the sight of Thy Holiness only shows us the more how unholy we are, teach us that Thou makest partakers of Thy own Holiness those who come to Thee for it. O God! we come to Thee, the Holy One. It is in knowing and finding and having Thyself, that the soul finds Holiness. We do beseech Thee, as we now come to Thee, establish it in the thoughts of our heart, that the one object of Thy calling us, and of our coming to Thee, is Holiness. Thou wouldst have us like Thyself, partakers of Thy Holiness. If ever our heart becomes afraid, as if it were too high, or rests content with a salvation less than Holiness, Blessed God! let us hear Thy voice calling again, Be holy, I am holy. Let that call be our motive and our strength, because faithful is He that calleth, who also will do it. Let that call mark our standard and our path; oh! let our life be such as Thou art able to make it. Holy Father! I bow in lowly worship and silence before Thee. Let now Thine own voice sound in the depths of my heart calling me, Be holy, as I am holy. Amen. 1. Let me press it upon every reader of this little book, that if it is to help him in the pursuit of Holiness, he must begin _with God Himself_. You must go _to Him who calls you_. It is only in the personal revelation of God to you, as He speaks, I am holy, that the command, Be ye holy, can have life or power. 2. Remember, as a believer, you have already accepted God's call, even though you did not fully understand it. Let it be a settled matter, that whatever you see to be the meaning of the call, you will at once accept and carry out. If God calls me to be holy, holy I will be. 3. Take fast hold of the word: 'The God of peace sanctify you wholly: faithful is He which _calleth_ you, _who also will do it_.' In that faith listen to God calling you. 4. Do be still now, and listen to your Father calling you. Ask for and count upon the Holy Spirit, the Spirit of Holiness, to open your heart to understand this holy calling. And then speak out the answer you have to give to this call. Second Day. HOLY IN CHRIST. God's Provision for Holiness. 'To those that are _made holy_ in Christ Jesus, called to be _holy_.'--1 Cor. i. 2. 'To all the _holy ones_ in Christ Jesus which are at Philippi. Salute every _holy one_ in Christ Jesus.'[1]--Phil. i. 1, iv. 21. HOLY! IN CHRIST! In these two expressions we have perhaps the most wonderful words of all the Bible. HOLY! the word of unfathomable meaning, which the Seraphs utter with veiled faces. HOLY! the word in which all God's perfections centre, and of which His glory is but the streaming forth. HOLY! the word which reveals the purpose with which God from eternity thought of man, and tells what man's highest glory in the coming eternity is to be; to be partaker of His Holiness! IN CHRIST! the word in which all the wisdom and love of God are unveiled! The Father giving His Son to be one with us! the Son dying on the cross to make us one with Himself! the Holy Spirit of the Father dwelling in us to establish and maintain that union! IN CHRIST! what a summary of what redemption has done, and of the inconceivably blessed life in which the child of God is permitted to dwell. IN CHRIST! the one lesson we have to study on earth. God's one answer to all our needs and prayers. IN CHRIST! the guarantee and the foretaste of eternal glory. What wealth of meaning and blessing in the two words combined: HOLY IN CHRIST! Here is God's provision for our holiness, God's response to our question, How to be holy? Often and often as we hear the call, Be _ye_ holy, _even as I_ am holy, it is as if there is and ever must be a great gulf between the holiness of God and man. IN CHRIST! is the bridge that crosses the gulf; nay rather, His fulness has filled it up. IN CHRIST! God and man meet; IN CHRIST! the Holiness of God has found us, and made us its own; has become human, and can indeed become our very own. To the anxious cries and the heart-yearnings of thousands of thirsty souls who have believed in Jesus and yet know not how to be holy, here is God's answer: YE ARE HOLY IN CHRIST JESUS. Would they but hearken, and believe; would they but take these Divine words, and say them over, if need be, a thousand times, how God's light would shine, and fill their hearts with joy and love as they echo them back: Yes, now I see it. Holy in Christ! Made holy in Christ Jesus! As we set ourselves to study these wondrous words, let us remember that it is only God Himself who can reveal to us what Holiness truly is. Let us fear our own thoughts, and crucify our own wisdom. Let us give up ourselves to receive, in the power of the life of God Himself, working in us by the Holy Spirit, that which is deeper and truer than human thought, Christ Himself as our Holiness. In this dependence upon the teaching of the Spirit of Holiness, let us seek simply to accept what Holy Scripture sets before us; as the revelation of the Holy One of old was a very slow and gradual one, so let us be content patiently to follow step by step the path of the shining light through the Word; it will shine more and more unto the perfect day. We shall first have to study the word Holy in the Old Testament. In Israel as the holy people, the type of us who now are holy in Christ, we shall see with what fulness of symbol God sought to work into the very constitution of the people some apprehension of what He would have them be. In the law we shall see how HOLY is the great keyword of the redemption which it was meant to serve and prepare for. In the prophets we shall hear how the Holiness of God is revealed as the source whence the coming redemption should spring: it is not so much Holiness as the Holy One they speak of, who would, in redeeming love and saving righteousness, make Himself known as the God of His people. And when the meaning of the word has been somewhat opened up, and the deep need of the blessing made manifest in the Old Testament, we shall come to the New to find how that need was fulfilled. In Christ, the Holy One of God, Divine Holiness will be found in human life and human nature; a truly human will being made perfect and growing up through obedience into complete union with all the Holy Will of God. In the sacrifice of Himself on the cross, that holy nature gave itself up to the death, that, like the seed-corn, it might through death live again and reproduce itself in us. In the gift from the throne of the Spirit of God's Holiness, representing and revealing and communicating the unseen Christ, the holy life of Christ descends and takes possession of His people, and they become one with Him. As the Old Testament had no higher word than that HOLY, the New has none deeper than this, IN CHRIST. The being in Him, the abiding in Him, the being rooted in Him, the growing up in Him and into Him in all things, are the Divine expressions in which the wonderful and complete oneness between us and our Saviour are brought as near us as human language can do. And when Old and New Testament have each given their message, the one in teaching us what _Holy_, the other what _in Christ_ means, we have in the word of God, that unites the two, the most complete summary of the Great Redemption that God's love has provided. The everlasting certainty, the wonderful sufficiency, the infinite efficacy of the Holiness that God has prepared for us in His Son, are all revealed in this blessed, HOLY IN CHRIST. 'The Holy Ones in Christ Jesus!' Such is the name, beloved fellow-believers, which we bear in Holy Scripture, in the language of the Holy Spirit. It is no mere statement of doctrine, that we are holy in Christ: it is no deep theological discussion to which we are invited; but out of the depths of God's loving heart, there comes a voice thus addressing His beloved children. It is the name by which the Father calls His children. That name tells us of God's provision for our being holy. It is the revelation of what God has given us, and what we already are; of what God waits to work in us, and what can be ours in personal practical possession. That name, gratefully accepted, joyfully confessed, trustfully pleaded, will be the pledge and the power of our attainment of the Holiness to which we have been called. And so we shall find that as we go along, all our study and all God's teaching will be comprised in three great lessons. The first a revelation, '_I am holy_;' the second a command, '_Be ye holy_;' the third a gift, the link between the two, '_Ye are holy in Christ_.' First comes the revelation, 'I am holy.' Our study must be on bended knee, in the spirit of worship and deep humility. God must reveal Himself to us, if we are to know what Holy is. The deep unholiness of our nature and all that is of nature must be shown us; with Moses and Isaiah, when the Holy One revealed Himself to them, we must fear and tremble, and confess how utterly unfit we are for the revelation or the fellowship, without the cleansing of fire. In the consciousness of the utter impotence of our own wisdom or understanding to know God, our souls must in contrition, brokenness from ourselves and our power or efforts, yield to God's Spirit, the Spirit of Holiness, to reveal God as the Holy One. And as we begin to know Him in His infinite righteousness, in His fiery burning zeal against all that is sin, and His infinite self-sacrificing love to free the sinner from his sin, and to bring him to His own perfection, we shall learn to wonder at and worship this glorious God, to feel and deplore our terrible unlikeness to Him, to long and cry for some share in the Divine beauty and blessedness of this Holiness. And then will come with new meaning the command, 'Be holy, as I am holy.' Oh, my brethren! ye who profess to obey the commands of your God, do give this all-surpassing and all-including command that first place in your heart and life which it claims. Do be holy with the likeness of God's Holiness. Do be holy as He is holy. And if you find that the more you meditate and study, the less you can grasp this infinite holiness; that the more you at moments grasp of it, the more you despair of a holiness so Divine; remember that such breaking down and such despair is just what the command was meant to work. Learn to cease from your own wisdom as well as your own goodness; draw near in poverty of spirit to let the Holy One show you how utterly above human knowledge or human power is the holiness He demands; to the soul that ceases from self, and has no confidence in the flesh, He will show and give the holiness He calls us to. It is to such that the great gift of Holiness in Christ becomes intelligible and acceptable. Christ brings the Holiness of God nigh by showing it in human conduct and intercourse. He brings it nigh by removing the barrier between it and us, between God and us. He brings it nigh, because He makes us one with Himself. 'Holy in Christ:' our holiness is a Divine bestowment, held for us, communicated to us, working mightily in us because we are _in Him_. 'In Christ!' oh, that wonderful _in_! our very life rooted in the life of Christ. That holy Son and Servant of the Father, beautiful in His life of love and obedience on earth, sanctifying Himself for us--that life of Christ, the ground in which I am planted and rooted, the soil from which I draw as my nourishment its every quality and its very nature. How that word sheds its light both on the revelation, 'I am holy,' and on the command, 'Be ye holy, as I am,' and binds them in one! In Christ I see what God's Holiness is, and what my holiness is. In Him both are one, and both are mine. In Him I am holy; abiding and growing up in Him, I can be holy in all manner of living, as God is holy. BE YE HOLY, AS I AM HOLY. O Most Holy God! we do beseech Thee, reveal Thou to Thy children what it meaneth that Thou hast not only called them to holiness, but even called them by this name, 'the holy ones in Christ Jesus.' Oh that every child of Thine might know that He bears this name, might know what it means, and what power there is in it to make Him what it calls him. Holy Lord God! oh that the time of Thy visitation might speedily come, and each child of Thine on earth be known as a holy one! To this end we pray Thee to reveal to Thy saints what Thy Holiness is. Teach us to worship and to wait until Thou hast spoken unto our souls with Divine Power Thy word, 'I am holy.' Oh that it may search out and convict us of our unholiness! And reveal to us, we pray Thee, that as holy as Thou art, even a consuming fire, so holy is Thy command in its determined and uncompromising purpose to have us holy. O God! let Thy voice sound through the depth of our being, with a power from which there is no escape: Be holy, be holy. And let us thus, between Thine infinite Holiness on the one hand and our unholiness on the other, be driven and be drawn to accept of Christ as our sanctification, to abide in Him as our life and our power to be what Thou wouldst have us--'Holy in Christ Jesus.' O Father! let Thy Spirit make this precious word life and truth within us. Amen. 1. You are entering anew on the study of a Divine mystery. 'Trust not to your own understanding;' wait for the teaching of the Spirit of truth. 2. _In Christ._ A commentator says, 'The phrase denotes two moral facts--first, the act of faith whereby a man lays hold of Christ; second, the community of life with Him contracted by means of this faith.' There is still another fact, the greatest of all: that it is by an act of Divine power that I am in Christ and am kept in Him. It is this I want to realize: the Divineness of my position in Jesus. 3. Grasp the two sides of the truth. _You are_ holy in Christ with a Divine holiness. In the faith of that, you are to _be holy_, to _become holy_ with a human holiness, the Divine Holiness manifest in all the conduct of a human life. 4. This Christ is a Living Person, a Loving Saviour: how He will delight to get complete possession, and do all the work in you! Keep hold of this all along as we go on: you have a claim on Christ, on His Love and Power, to make you holy. As His redeemed one, you are at this moment, whatever and wherever you be, _in Him_. His Holy Presence and Love are around you. You are _in Him_, in the enclosure of that tender love, which ever encircles you with His Holy Presence. _In that Presence, accepted and realized, is your holiness._ [1] There is one disadvantage in English in our having synonyms of which some are derived from Saxon and others from Latin. Ordinary readers are apt to forget that in our translation of the Bible we may use two different words for what in the original is expressed by one term. This is the case with the words _holy_, _holiness_, _keep holy_, _hallow_, _saint_, _sanctify_, and _sanctification_. When God or Christ is called the Holy One, the word in Hebrew and Greek is exactly the same that is used when the believer is called a saint: he too is a holy one. So the three words _hallow_, _keep holy_, _sanctify_, all represent but one term in the original, of which the real meaning is to make holy, as it is in Dutch, _heiliging_ (holying), and _heiligmaking_ (holy-making). Third Day. HOLY IN CHRIST. Holiness and Creation. 'And God blessed the Sabbath day, and _sanctified_ it, because that in it He had rested from all the work which God created and made.'--Gen. ii. 3. In Genesis we have the Book of Beginnings. To its first three chapters we are specially indebted for a Divine light shining on the many questions to which human wisdom never could find an answer. In our search after Holiness, we are led thither too. In the whole book of Genesis the word Holy occurs but once. But that once in such a connection as to open to us the secret spring whence flows all that the Bible has to teach or to give us of this heavenly blessing. The full meaning of the precious word we want to master, of the priceless blessing we want to get possession of, '_Sanctified in Christ_,' takes its rise in what is here written of that wondrous act of God, by which He closed His creation work, and revealed how wonderfully it would be continued and perfected. When God blessed the seventh day, and _sanctified_ it, He lifted it above the other days, and set it apart to a work and a revelation of Himself, excelling in glory all that had preceded. In this simple expression, Scripture reveals to us the character of God as the Holy One, who _makes holy_; the way in which He makes holy, by entering in and _resting_; and the power of _blessing_ with which God's making holy is ever accompanied. These three lessons we shall find it of the deepest importance to study well, as containing the root-principles of all the Scripture will have to teach us in our pursuit of Holiness. 1. God _sanctified_ the Sabbath day. Of the previous six days the keyword was, from the first calling into existence of the heaven and the earth, down to the making of man: _God created_. All at once a new word and a new work of God, is introduced: _God sanctified_. Something higher than creation, that for which creation is to exist, is now to be revealed; God Almighty is now to be known as God Most Holy. And just as the work of creation shows His Power, without that Power being mentioned, so His making holy the seventh day reveals His character as the Holy One. As Omnipotence is the chief of His natural, so Holiness is the first of His moral attributes. And just as He alone is Creator, so He alone is Sanctifier; to make holy is His work as truly and exclusively as to create. Blessed is the child of God who truly and fully believes this! God sanctified the Sabbath day. The word can teach us what the nature is of the work God does when He makes holy. Sanctification in Paradise cannot be essentially different from Sanctification in Redemption. God had pronounced all His works, and man the chief of them, very good. And yet they were not holy. The six days' work had nought of defilement or sin, and yet it was not holy. The seventh day needed to be specially made holy, for the great work of making holy man, who was already very good. In Exodus, God says distinctly that He sanctified the Sabbath day, with a view to man's sanctification. 'That ye may know that I am the Lord that doth _sanctify you_.' Goodness, innocence, purity, freedom from sin, is not Holiness. Goodness is the work of omnipotence, an attribute of nature, as God creates it: holiness is something infinitely higher. We speak of the holiness of God as His infinite moral perfection; man's moral perfection could only come in the use of his will, consenting freely to and abiding in the will of God. Thus alone could he become holy. The seventh day was made holy by God as a pledge that He would make man holy. In the ages that preceded the seventh day, the Creation period, God's Power, Wisdom, and Goodness had been displayed. The age to come, in the seventh day period, is to be the dispensation of holiness: God made holy the seventh day. 2. God sanctified the Sabbath day, _because in it He rested_ from all His work. This rest was something real. In Creation, God had, as it were, gone out of Himself to bring forth something new: in resting He now returns from His creating work into Himself, to rejoice in His love over the man He has created, and communicate Himself to him. This opens up to us the way in which God makes holy. The connection between the resting and making holy was no arbitrary one; the making holy was no after-thought; in the very nature of things it could not be otherwise: He sanctified _because_ He rested in it; He sanctified by resting. As He regards His finished work, more especially man, rejoices in it, and, as we have it in Exodus, 'is refreshed,' this time of His Divine rest is the time in which He will carry on unto perfection what He has begun, and make man, created in His image, in very deed partaker of His highest glory, His Holiness. _Where God rests in complacency and love, He makes holy._ The Presence of God revealing itself, entering in, and taking possession, is what constitutes true Holiness. As we go down the ages, studying the progressive unfolding of what Holiness is, this truth will continually meet us. In God's indwelling in heaven, in His temple on earth, in His beloved Son, in the person of the believer through the Holy Spirit, we shall everywhere find that Holiness is not something that man is or does, but that it always comes where God comes. In the deepest meaning of the words: where God enters to rest, there He sanctifies. And when we come to study the New Testament revelation of the way in which we are to be holy, we shall find in this one of our earliest and deepest lessons. It is as we enter into the rest of God that we become partakers of His Holiness. 'We which have believed do enter into that rest;' 'He that hath entered into his rest hath himself also rested from his works, as God did from His.' It is as the soul ceases from its own efforts, and rests in Him who has finished all for us, and will finish all in us, as the soul yields itself in the quiet confidence of true faith to rest in God, that it will know what true Holiness is. Where the soul enters into the Sabbath stillness of perfect trust, God comes to keep His Sabbath holy; and the soul where He rests He sanctifies. Whether we speak of His own day, 'He sanctified it,' or His own people 'sanctified in Christ,' the secret of Holiness is ever the same: 'He sanctified because he rested.' 3. And then we read, '_He blessed_ and sanctified it.' As used in the first chapter and throughout the book of Genesis, the word 'God blessed' is one of great significance. 'Be fruitful and multiply' was, as to Adam, so later to Noah and Abraham, the Divine exposition of its meaning. The blessing with which God blessed Adam and Noah and Abraham was that of fruitfulness and increase, the power to reproduce and multiply. When God blessed the seventh day, He filled it so with the living power of His Holiness, that in it that Holiness might increase and reproduce itself in those who, like Him, seek to enter into its rest and sanctify it. The seventh day is that in which we are still living. Of each of the creation days it is written, up to the last, 'There was evening, and there was morning, the sixth day.' Of the seventh the record has not yet been made; we are living in it now, God's own day of rest and holiness and blessing. Entering into it in a very special manner, and taking possession of it, as the time for His rejoicing in His creature, and manifesting the fulness of His love in sanctifying him, He has made the dispensation we now live in one of Divine and mighty blessing. And He has at the same time taught us what the blessing is. Holiness is blessedness. Fellowship with God in His holy rest is blessedness. And as all God's blessings in Christ have but one fountain, God's Holiness, so they all have but one aim, making us partakers of that Holiness. God created, _and blessed_; with the creation blessing. God sanctified, _and blessed_; with the Sabbath blessing of His rest. The Creation blessing, of goodness and fruitfulness and dominion, is to be crowned by the Sabbath blessing of rest in God and holiness in fellowship with Him. God's finished work of Creation was marred by sin, and our fellowship with Him in the blessing of His holy rest cut off. The finished work of redemption opened for us a truer rest and a surer entrance into the Holiness of God. As He rested in His holy day, so He now rests in His Holy Son. In Him we now can enter fully into the rest of God. 'Made holy in Christ,' let us rest in Him. Let us rest, because we see that as wonderfully as God by His mighty power finished His work of Creation, will He complete and perfect His work of sanctification. Let us yield ourselves to God in Christ, to rest where He rested, to be made holy with His own holiness, and to be blessed with God's own blessing. God the Sanctifier is the name now inscribed upon the throne of God the Creator. At the threshold of the history of the human race there shines this word of infinite promise and hope: 'God blessed and sanctified the seventh day because in it He rested.' BE YE HOLY, FOR I AM HOLY. Blessed Lord God! I bow before Thee in lowly worship. I adore Thee as God the Creator, and God the Sanctifier. Thou hast revealed Thyself as God Almighty and God Most Holy. I beseech Thee, teach me to know and to trust Thee as such. I humbly ask Thee for grace to learn and hold fast the deep spiritual truths Thou hast revealed in making holy the Sabbath day. Thy purpose in man's creation is to show forth Thy Holiness, and make him partaker of it. Oh, teach me to believe in Thee as God my Creator and Sanctifier, to believe with my whole heart that the same Almighty power which gave the sixth-day blessing of creation, secures to us the seventh-day blessing of sanctification. Thy will is our sanctification. And teach me, Lord, to understand better how this blessing comes. It is where Thou enterest to rest, to refresh and reveal Thyself, that Thou makest holy. O my God! may my heart be Thy resting-place. I would, in the stillness and confidence of a restful faith, rest in Thee, believing that Thou doest all in me. Let such fellowship with Thee, and Thy love, and Thy will be to me the secret of a life of holiness. I ask it in the name of our Lord Jesus, in whom Thou hast sanctified us. Amen. 1. God the Creator is God the Sanctifier. The Omnipotence that did the first work does the second too. I can trust God Almighty to make me holy. God is holy: if God is everything to me, His presence will be my holiness. 2. Rest is ceasing from work, not to work no more, but to begin a new work. God rests and begins at once to make holy that in which He rests. He created by the word of His power; He rests in His love. Creation was the building of the temple; sanctification is the entering in and taking possession. Oh, that wonderful entering into human nature! 3. God rests only in what is restful, wholly at His disposal. It is in the restfulness of faith that we must look to God the Sanctifier; He will come in and keep His holy Sabbath in the restful soul. We rest in God's rest; God rests in our rest. 4. The God that rests in man whom He made, and in resting sanctifies, and in sanctifying blesses: this is our God; praise and worship Him. _And trust Him to do His work._ 5. Rest! what a simple word. The Rest of God! what an inconceivable fulness of Life and Love in that word. Let us meditate on it and worship before Him, until it overshadow us and we enter into it--the Rest of God. _Rest_ belongeth unto God: He alone can give it, by making us share His own. Fourth Day. HOLY IN CHRIST. Holiness and Revelation. 'And when the Lord saw that Moses turned aside to see, He called unto him out of the midst of the bush, and said, Moses, Moses. And he said, Here am I. And He said, Draw not nigh hither; put off thy shoes from thy feet, for the place where thou standest is _holy_ ground. And Moses hid his face, for He was afraid to look upon God.'--Ex. iii. 4-6. And why was it holy ground? Because God had come there and occupied it. Where God is, there is holiness; it is the presence of God makes holy. This is the truth we met with in Paradise when man was just created; here, where Scripture uses the word _Holy_ for the second time, it is repeated and enforced. A careful study of the word in the light of the burning bush will further open its deep significance. Let us see what the sacred history, what the revelation of God, and what Moses teaches us of this holy ground. 1. Note the place this first direct revelation of God to man as the Holy One takes in sacred history. In Paradise we found the word _Holy_ used of the seventh day. Since that time twenty-five centuries have elapsed. We found in God's sanctifying the day of rest a promise of a new dispensation--the revelation of the Almighty Creator to be followed by that of the Holy One making holy. And yet throughout the book of Genesis the word never occurs again; it is as if God's Holiness is in abeyance; only in Exodus, with the calling of Moses, does it make its appearance again. This is a fact of deep import. Just as a parent or teacher seeks, in early childhood, to impress one lesson at a time, so God deals in the education of the human race. After having in the flood exhibited His righteous judgment against sin, He calls Abraham to be the father of a chosen people. And as the foundation of all His dealings with that people, He teaches him and his seed first of all the lesson of _childlike trust_--trust in Him as the Almighty, with whom nothing is too wonderful, and trust in Him as the Faithful One, whose oath could not be broken. With the growth of Israel to a people we see the revelation advancing to a new stage. The simplicity of childhood gives way to the waywardness of youth, and God must now interfere with the discipline and restriction of law. Having gained a right to a place in their confidence as the God of their fathers, He prepares them for a further revelation. Of the God of Abraham the chief attribute was that He was the Almighty One; of the God of Israel, Jehovah, that He is the Holy One. And what is to be the special mark of the new period that is now about to be inaugurated, and which is introduced by the word holy? God tells Moses that He is now about to reveal Himself in a new character. He had been known to Abraham as God Almighty, the God of Promise (Ex. vi. 3). He would now manifest Himself as Jehovah, the God of Fulfilment, especially in the redemption and deliverance of His people from the oppression He had foretold to Abraham. God Almighty is the God of Creation: Abraham believed in God, 'who quickeneth the dead, and calleth the things that are not as though they were.' Jehovah is the God of Redemption and of Holiness. With Abraham there was not a word of sin or guilt, and therefore not of redemption or holiness. To Israel the law is to be given, to convince of sin and prepare the way for holiness; it is Jehovah, the Holy One of Israel, the Redeemer, who now appears. And it is the presence of this Holy One that makes the holy ground. 2. And how does this Presence reveal itself? In the burning bush God makes Himself known as dwelling in the midst of the fire. Elsewhere in Holy Scripture the connection between fire and the Holiness of God is clearly expressed: 'The light of Israel shall be for a fire, and the Holy One for a flame.' The nature of fire may be either beneficent or destructive. The sun, the great central fire, may give life and fruitfulness, or may scorch to death. All depends upon occupying the right position, upon the relation in which we stand to it. And so wherever God the Holy One reveals Himself, we shall find the two sides together: God's Holiness as judgment against sin, destroying the sinner who remains in it, and as Mercy freeing His people from it. Judgment and Mercy ever go together. Of the elements of nature there is none of such spiritual and mighty energy as Fire: what it consumes it takes and changes into its own spiritual nature, rejecting as smoke and ashes what cannot be assimilated. And so the Holiness of God is that infinite Perfection by which He keeps Himself free from all that is not Divine, and yet has fellowship with the creature, and takes it up into union with Himself, destroying and casting out all that will not yield itself to Him. It is thus as One who dwells in the fire, who is a fire, that God reveals Himself at the opening of this new redemption period. With Abraham and the patriarchs, as we have said, there had been little teaching about sin or redemption; the nearness and friendship of God had been revealed. Now the law will be given, sin will be made manifest, the distance from God will be felt, that man, in learning to know himself and his sinfulness, may learn to know and long for God to make him holy. In all God's revelation of Himself we shall find the combination of the two elements, the one repelling, the other attracting. In His house He will dwell in the midst of Israel, and yet it will be in the awful unapproachable solitude and darkness of the holiest of all within the veil. He will come near to them, and yet keep them at a distance. As we study the Holiness of God, we shall see in increasing clearness how, like fire, it repels and attracts, how it combines into one His infinite distance and His infinite nearness. 3. But the distance will be that which comes out first and most strongly. This we see in Moses: he hid his face, for He feared to look upon God. The first impression which God's Holiness produces is that of fear and awe. Until man, both as a creature and a sinner, learns how high God is above him, how different and distant he is from God, the Holiness of God will have little real value or attraction. Moses hiding his face shows us the effect of the drawing nigh of the Holy One, and the path to His further revelation. How distinctly this comes out in God's own words: 'Draw not nigh hither; put off thy shoes from off thy feet.' Yes, God had drawn nigh, but Moses may not. God comes near: man must stand back. In the same breath God says, Draw nigh, and, Draw not nigh. There can be no knowledge of God or nearness to Him, where we have not first heard His, Draw not nigh. The sense of sin, of unfitness for God's presence, is the groundwork of true knowledge or worship of Him as the Holy One. 'Put off thy shoes from off thy feet.' The shoes are the means of intercourse with the world, the aids through which the flesh or nature does its will, moves about and does its work. In standing upon holy ground, all this must be put away. It is with naked feet, naked and stript of every covering, that man must bow before a holy God. Our utter unfitness to draw nigh or have any dealings with the Holy One, is the very first lesson we have to learn, if ever we are to participate in His Holiness. That _Put off!_ must exercise its condemning power through our whole being, until we come to realize the full extent of its meaning in the great, '_Put off_ the old man; put on the Lord Jesus,' and what 'the _putting off_ of the body of the flesh, in the circumcision of Christ,' is. Yes, all that is of nature and the flesh, all that is of our own doing or willing or working--our very life, must be put off and given unto the death, if God, as the Holy One, is to make Himself known to us. We have seen before that Holiness is more than goodness or freedom from sin: even unfallen nature is not holy. Holiness is that awful glory by which Divinity is separated from all that is created. Therefore even the seraphs veil their faces with their wings when they sing the Thrice Holy. But oh! when the distance and the difference is not that of the creature only, but of the sinner, who can express, who can realize, the humiliation, the fear, the shame with which we ought to bow before the voice of the Holy One? Alas! this is one of the most terrible effects of sin, that it blinds us. We know not how unholy, how abominable, sin and the sinful nature are in God's sight. We have lost the power of recognising the Holiness of God: heathen philosophy had not even the idea of using the word as expressive of the moral character of its gods. In losing the light of the glory of God, we have lost the power of knowing what sin is. And now God's first work in drawing nigh to us is to make us feel that we may not draw nigh as we are; that there will have to be a very real and a very solemn putting off, and even giving up to the death, of all that appears most lawful and most needful. Not only our shoes are soiled with contact with this unholy earth; even our face must be covered and our eyes closed, in token that the eyes of our heart, all our human wisdom and understanding, are incapable of beholding the Holy One. The first lesson in the school of personal holiness is, to fear and hide our face before the Holiness of God. 'Thus saith the High and Lofty One, whose name is holy, I dwell in the High and Holy Place, and with him that is of a contrite and humble spirit.' Contrition, brokenness of spirit, fear and trembling are God's first demand of those who would see His Holiness. Moses was to be the first preacher of the Holiness of God. Of the full communication of God's Holiness to us in Christ, His first revelation to Moses was the type and the pledge. From Moses' lips the people of Israel, from his pen the Church of Christ, was to receive the message, 'Be holy: I am holy: I make holy.' His preparation for being the messenger of the Holy One was here, where he hid his face, because he was afraid to look upon God. It is with the face in the dust, it is in the putting off not only of the shoes, but of all that has been in contact with the world and self and sin, that the soul draws nigh to the fire, in which God dwells, and which burns, but does not consume. Oh that every believer, who seeks to witness for God as the Holy One, might thus learn how the fulfilment of the type of the Burning Bush is the Crucified Christ, and how, as we die with Him, we receive that Baptism of Fire, which reveals in each of us what it means: the Holy One dwelling in a Burning Bush. Only so can we learn what it is to be holy, as He is holy. BE YE HOLY, FOR I AM HOLY. Most Holy God! I have seen Thee, who dwellest in the fire. I have heard Thy voice, Draw not nigh hither; put thy shoes off from thy feet. And my soul has feared to look upon God, the Holy One. And yet, O my God! I must see Thee. Thou didst create me for Thy likeness. Thou hast taught that this likeness is Thy Holiness: 'Be holy, as I am holy.' O my God! how shall I know to be holy, unless I may see Thee, the Holy One? To be holy, I must look upon God. I bless Thee for the revelation of Thyself in the flames of the thorn-bush, in the fire of the accursed tree. I bow in amazement and deep abasement at the great sight: Thy Son in the weakness of His human nature, in the fire, burning but not consumed. O my God! in fear and trembling I have yielded myself as a sinner to die like Him. Oh, let the fire consume all that is unholy in me! Let me too know Thee as the God that dwelleth in the fire, to melt down and purge out and destroy what is not of Thee, to save and take up into Thine own Holiness what is Thine own. O Holy Lord God! I bow in the dust before this great mystery. Reveal to me Thy Holiness, that I too may be its witness and its messenger on earth. Amen. 1. _Holiness as the fire of God._ Praise God that there is a Power that can consume the vile and the dross, a Power that will not leave it undisturbed. 'The bush burning but not consumed' is not only the motto of the Church in time of persecution; it is the watchword of every soul in God's sanctifying work. 2. There is a new Theology, which only speaks of the love of God as seen in the cross. It sees not the glory of His Righteousness, and His righteous judgment. This is not the God of Scripture. 'Our God is a consuming fire,' is New Testament Theology. To 'offer service with reverence and awe,' is New Testament religion. In Holiness, Judgment and Mercy meet. 3. _Holiness as the fear of God._ Hiding the face before God for fear, not daring to look or speak,--this is the beginning of rest in God. It is not yet the true rest, but on the way to it. May God give us a deep fear of whatever could grieve or anger Him. May we have a deep fear of ourselves, and all that is of the old, the condemned nature, lest it rise again. 'The spirit of the fear of the Lord' is the first manifestation of the spirit of holiness, and prepares the way for the joy of holiness. 'Walking in the fear of the Lord, and in the comfort of the Holy Ghost;' these are the two sides of the Christian life. 4. The Holiness of God was revealed to Moses that he might be its messenger. The Church needs nothing so much to-day as men and women who can testify for the Holiness of God. Will you be one? NOTE. The connection between the fear of God and holiness is most intimate. There are some who seek most earnestly for holiness, and yet never exhibit it in a light that will attract the world or even believers, because this element is wanting. It is the fear of the Lord that works that meekness and gentleness, that deliverance from self-confidence and self-consciousness, which form the true groundwork of a saintly character. The passages of God's Word in which the two words are linked together are well worthy of a careful study. 'Who is like unto Thee, glorious in _holiness_, _fearful_ in praises?' 'In Thy _fear_ will I worship towards Thy _holy_ temple.' 'O _fear_ the Lord, ye His _holy ones_.' 'O worship the Lord, in the beauty of _holiness_; _fear_ before Him, all the earth.' 'Let them praise Thy great and _terrible_ name; _holy_ is He.' 'The _fear_ of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom; and the knowledge of the _Holy One_ is understanding.' 'The Lord of hosts, Him shall ye _sanctify_; let Him be your _fear_, and let Him be your dread.' 'Perfecting _holiness_ in the _fear_ of the Lord.' 'Like as He which _called you_ is holy, be ye yourselves also _holy_; and if ye _call on Him_ as father, pass the time of your sojourning in _fear_.' And so on through the whole of Scripture, from the Song of Moses on to the Song of the Lamb: 'Who shall not _fear_ Thee, O Lord! and glorify Thy name, for Thou only art _holy_.' If we yield ourselves to the impression of such passages, we shall feel more deeply that the fear of God, the tender fear of in any way offending Him, the fear especially of entering into His holy presence with what is human and carnal, with aught of our own wisdom and effort, is of the very essence of the holiness we are to follow after. It is this fear of God will make us, like Moses, fall down and hide our face in God's presence, and wait for His own Holy Spirit to open in us the eyes, and breathe in us the thoughts and the worship, with which we draw nigh to Him, the Holy One. It is in this holy fear that that stillness of soul is wrought which leads it to rest in God, and opens the way for what we saw in Paradise to be the secret of holiness: God keeping His Sabbath, and sanctifying the soul in which He rests. Fifth Day. HOLY IN CHRIST. Holiness and Redemption. '_Sanctify_ unto _me_ all the first-born.'--Ex. xiii. 2. 'All the first-born _are mine_; for on the day I smote all the first-born in the land of Egypt _I sanctified_ unto _me_ all the first-born in Israel: _mine_ they shall be: I am the Lord.'--Num. iii. 13, viii. 17. 'For I am the Lord your God that bringeth you up out of the land of Egypt to be your God: ye shall therefore _be holy_, for I am _holy_.'--Lev. xi. 45. 'I have redeemed thee; thou art mine.'--Isa. xliii. 1. At Horeb we saw how the first mention of the word holy in the history of fallen man was connected with the inauguration of a new period in the revelation of God, that of Redemption. In the passover we have the first manifestation of what Redemption is; and here the more frequent use of the word holy begins. In the feast of unleavened bread we have the symbol of the putting off of the old and the putting on of the new, to which redemption through blood is to lead. Of the seven days we read: 'In the first day there shall be an _holy_ convocation, and in the seventh day there shall be an _holy_ convocation;' the meeting of the redeemed people to commemorate its deliverance is a holy gathering; they meet under the covering of their Redeemer, the Holy One. As soon as the people had been redeemed from Egypt, God's very first word to them was, 'Sanctify--make holy unto me all the first-born: it is mine.' (See Ex. xiii. 2.) The word reveals how proprietorship is one of the central thoughts both in redemption and in sanctification, the link that binds them together. And though the word is here only used of the first-born, they are regarded as the type of the whole people. We know how all growth and organization commence from a centre, around which in ever-widening circles the life of the organism spreads. If holiness in the human race is to be true and real, free as that of God, it must be the result of a self-appropriating development. And so the first-born are sanctified, and afterwards the priests in their place, as the type of what the whole people is to be as God's first-born among the nations, His peculiar treasure, 'an holy nation.' This idea of proprietorship as related to redemption and sanctification comes out with especial clearness when God speaks of the exchange of the priests for the first-born (Num. iii. 12, 13, viii. 16, 17): 'The Levites are _wholly given unto me_; instead of the first-born have I _taken them unto me_; for all the first-born _are mine_; in the day that I smote every first-born in the land of Egypt _I sanctified them for myself_.' Let us try and realize the relation existing between redemption and holiness. In Paradise we saw what God's sanctifying the seventh day was: He took possession of it, He blessed it, He rested in it and refreshed Himself. Where God enters and rests, there is holiness: the more perfectly the object is fitted for Him to enter and dwell, the more perfect the holiness. The seventh day was sanctified as the period for man's sanctification. At the very first step God took to lead him to His Holiness--the command not to eat of the tree--man fell. God did not give up His plan, but had now to pursue a different and slower path. After twenty-five centuries' slow but needful preparation, He now reveals Himself as the Redeemer. A people whom He had chosen and formed for Himself He gives up to oppression and slavery, that their hearts may be prepared to long for and welcome a Deliverer. In a series of mighty wonders He proves Himself the Conqueror of their enemies, and then, in the blood of the Paschal Lamb on their doors, teaches them what redemption is, not only from an unjust oppressor here on earth, but from the righteous judgment their sins had deserved. The Passover is to be to them the transition from the seen and temporal to the unseen and spiritual, revealing God not only as the Mighty but as the Holy One, freeing them not only from the house of bondage but the Destroying Angel. And having thus redeemed them, He tells them that they are now His own. During their stay at Sinai and in the wilderness, the thought is continually pressed upon them that they are now the Lord's people, whom He has made His own by the strength of His arm, that He may make them holy for Himself, even as He is holy. The purpose of redemption is Possession, and the purpose of Possession is likeness to Him who is Redeemer and Owner, is Holiness. In regard to this Holiness, and the way it is to be attained as the result of redemption, there is more than one lesson the sanctifying of the first-born will teach us. First of all, we want to realize how inseparable redemption and holiness are. Neither can exist without the other. _Only redemption leads to holiness._ If I am seeking holiness, I must abide in the clear and full experience of being a redeemed one, and as such of being owned and possessed by God. Redemption is too often looked at from its negative side as deliverance from: its real glory is the positive element of being redeemed unto Himself. Full possession of a house means occupation: if I own a house without occupying it, it may be the home of all that is foul and evil. God has redeemed me and made me His own with the view of getting complete possession of me. He says of my soul, 'It is mine,' and seeks to have His right of ownership acknowledged and made fully manifest. That will be perfect holiness, where God has entered in and taken complete and entire possession.[2] It is redemption gives God His right and power over me; it is redemption sets me free for God now to possess and bless: it is redemption realized and filling my soul, that will bring me the assurance and experience of all His power will work in me. In God, redemption and sanctification are one: the more redemption as a Divine reality possesses me, the closer am I linked to the Redeemer-God, the Holy One. And just so, _only holiness brings the assurance and enjoyment of redemption_. If I am seeking to hold fast redemption on lower ground, I may be deceived. If I have become unwatchful or careless, I should tremble at the very idea of trusting in redemption apart from holiness as its object. To Israel God spake, 'I brought you up out of the land of Egypt: _therefore_ ye shall be holy, for I am holy.' It is God the Redeemer who made us His own, who calls us too to be holy: let Holiness be to us the most essential, the most precious part of redemption: the yielding of ourselves to Him who has _taken_ us as His own, and has undertaken to _make_ us His own entirely. A second lesson suggested is the connection between God's and man's working in sanctification. To Moses the Lord speaks, '_Sanctify_ unto me all the first-born.' He afterwards says, '_I sanctified_ all the first-born for myself.' What God does He does to be carried out and appropriated through us. When He tells us that we are made holy in Christ Jesus, that we are His holy ones, He speaks not only of His purpose, but of what He has really done; we have been sanctified in the one offering of Christ, and in our being created anew in Him. But this work has a human side. To us comes the call to be holy, to follow after holiness, to perfect holiness. God has made us His own, and allows us to say that we are His: but He waits for us now to yield Him an enlarged entrance into the secret places of our inner being, for Him to fill it all with His fulness. Holiness is not something we bring to God or do for Him. Holiness is what there is of God in us. God has made us His own in redemption, that He might make Himself our own in sanctification. And our work in becoming holy is the bringing our whole life, and every part of it, into subjection to the rule of this holy God, putting every member and every power upon His altar. And this teaches us the answer to the question as to the connection between the sudden and the gradual in sanctification: between its being a thing once for all complete, and yet imperfect and needing to be perfected. What God sanctifies is holy with a Divine and perfect holiness as His gift: man has to sanctify by acknowledging and maintaining and carrying out that holiness in relation to what God has made holy. God sanctified the Sabbath day: man has to sanctify it, that is, to keep it holy. God sanctified the first-born as His own: Israel had to sanctify them, to treat them and give them up to God as holy. God is holy: we are to sanctify Him in acknowledging and adoring and honouring that holiness. God has sanctified His great name, His name is Holy: we sanctify or hallow that name as we fear and trust and use it as the revelation of His Holiness. God sanctified Christ: Christ sanctified Himself, manifesting in His personal will and action perfect conformity to the Holiness with which God had made Him holy. God has sanctified us in Christ Jesus: we are to be holy by yielding ourselves to the power of that holiness, by acting it out, and manifesting it in all our life and walk. The objective Divine gift, bestowed once for all and completely, must be appropriated as a subjective personal possession; we must cleanse ourselves, perfecting holiness. Redeemed unto holiness: as the two thoughts are linked in the mind and work of God, they must be linked in our heart and life. When Isaiah announced the second, the true redemption, it was given to him, even more clearly and fully than to Moses, to reveal the name of God as 'The Redeemer, the Holy One of Israel.' The more we study this name, and hallow it, and worship God by it, the more inseparably will the words become connected, and we shall see how, as the Redeemer is the Holy One, the redeemed are holy ones too. Isaiah says of 'the way of holiness,' the 'redeemed shall walk therein.' The redemption that comes out from the Holiness of God must lead up into it too. We shall understand that to be redeemed in Christ is to be holy in Christ, and the call of our redeeming God will acquire new meaning: 'I am _holy_: _be ye holy_.' BE YE HOLY, FOR I AM HOLY. O Lord God! the Holy One of Israel and his Redeemer! I worship before Thee in deep humility. I confess with shame that I so long sought Thee more as the Redeemer than as the Holy One. I knew not that it was as the Holy One Thou hadst redeemed, that redemption was the outcome and the fruit of Thy Holiness; that a participation in Thy Holiness was its one purpose and its highest beauty. I only thought of being redeemed from bondage and death: like Israel, I understood not that without fellowship and conformity to Thyself redemption would lose its value. Most holy God! I praise Thee for the patience with which Thou bearest with the selfishness and the slowness of Thy redeemed ones. I praise Thee for the teaching of the Spirit of Thy Holiness, leading Thy saints, and me too, to see how it is Thy Holiness, and the call to become partaker of it, that gives redemption its value; how it is for Thyself as the Holy One, to be Thine own, possessed and sanctified of Thee, that we are redeemed. O my God! with a love and a joy and a thanksgiving that cannot be uttered, I praise Thee for Christ, who has been made unto us of Thee sanctification and redemption. In Him Thou art my Redeemer, my Holy One. In Him I am Thy redeemed, Thy holy one. O God! in speechless adoration I fall down to worship the love that passeth knowledge, that hath done this for us, and to believe that in one who is now before Thee, holy in Christ, Thou wilt fulfil all Thy glorious purposes according to the greatness of Thy power. Amen. 1. 'Redemption through His blood.' The blood we meet at the threshold of the pathway of Holiness. For it is the blood of the sacrifice which the fire of God consumed, and yet could not consume. That blood has such power of holiness in it, that we read, 'Sanctified by His own blood.' Always think of holiness, or pray for it, as one redeemed by blood. Live under the covering of the blood in its daily cleansing power. 2. It is only as we know the Holiness of God as Fire, and bow before His righteous judgment, that we can appreciate the preciousness of the blood or the reality of the redemption. As long as we only think of the love of God as goodness, we may aim at being good; faith in God who redeems will waken in us the need and the joy of being _holy in Christ_. 3. Have you understood the right of property God has in what He has redeemed? Have you heard a voice say, _Mine. Thou art Mine._ Ask God very humbly to speak it to you. Listen very gently for it. 4. The holiness of the creature has its origin in the Divine will, in the Divine election, redemption, and possession. Give yourself up to this will of God and rejoice in it. 5. As God created, so He redeemed, to sanctify. Have great faith in Him for this. 6. Let God have the entire possession and disposal of you. Holiness is His; our holiness is to let Him, the Holy One, be all. [2] See Note A on Holiness as Proprietorship. Sixth Day. HOLY IN CHRIST. Holiness and Glory. 'Who is like unto Thee, O Lord! among the gods? Who is like unto Thee, _glorious in holiness_, Fearful in praises, doing wonders? Thou in Thy mercy hast led Thy people which Thou hast redeemed: Thou hast guided them in Thy strength to the habitation of _Thy holiness_ ... _The holy place_, O Lord, which Thy hands have established.' --Ex. xv. 11-17. In these words we have another step in advance in the revelation of Holiness. We have here for the first time Holiness predicated of God Himself. _He is_ glorious in holiness: and it is to the dwelling-place of _His Holiness_ that He is guiding His people. Let us first note the expression used here: glorious in holiness. Throughout Scripture we find the glory and the holiness of God mentioned together. In Ex. xxix. 43 we read, 'And the tent shall be _made holy_ by my _glory_,' that glory of the Lord of which we afterwards read that it filled the house. The glory of an object, of a thing or person, is its intrinsic worth or excellence: to glorify is to remove everything that could hinder the full revelation of that excellence. In the Holiness of God His glory is hidden; in the glory of God His Holiness is manifested: His glory, the revelation of Himself as the Holy One, would make the house holy. In the same way the two are connected in Lev. x. 3, 'I will be _sanctified_ in them that come nigh unto me, and before all the people I will be _glorified_.' The acknowledgment of His Holiness in the priests would be the manifestation of His glory to the people. So, too, in the song of the Seraphim (Isa. vi. 3), '_Holy, holy, holy_, Lord God of Hosts: the whole earth is full of His _glory_.' God is He who dwelleth in a light that is unapproachable, whom no man hath seen or can see: it is the _light_ of the knowledge of the _glory_ of God that He gives into our hearts. The glory is that which can be seen and known of the invisible and unapproachable light: that light itself, and the glorious fire of which that light is the shining out, that light is the Holiness of God. Holiness is not so much an attribute of God, as the comprehensive summary of all His perfections. It is on the shore of the Red Sea that Israel thus praises God: 'Who is like unto Thee, O Lord! Who is like unto Thee, glorious in holiness?' He is the Incomparable One, there is none like Him. And wherein has He proved this, and revealed the glory of His Holiness? With Moses in Horeb we saw God's glory in the fire, in its double aspect of salvation and destruction: consuming what could not be purified, purifying what was not consumed. We see it here too in the song of Moses: Israel sings of judgment and of mercy. The pillar of fire and of the cloud came between the camp of the Egyptians and the camp of Israel: it was a cloud and darkness to those, but it gave light by night to these. The two thoughts run through the whole song. But in the two verses that follow the ascription of holiness, we find the sum of the whole. 'Thou stretchedst out Thy right hand: the earth swallowed them.' 'The Lord looked forth upon the host of the Egyptians from the pillar of fire and discomfited them.' This is the glory of Holiness as judgment and destruction of the enemy. 'Thou in Thy mercy hast led _Thy people_ which thou hast redeemed. Thou hast guided _them_ in Thy strength to the habitation of Thy Holiness.' This is the glory of Holiness in mercy and redemption--a Holiness that not only delivers but guides to the habitation of holiness, where the Holy One is to dwell with and in His people. In the inspiration of the hour of triumph it is thus early revealed that the great object and fruit of redemption, as wrought out by the Holy One, is to be His indwelling: with nothing short of this can the Holy One rest content, or the full glory of His Holiness be made manifest. And now, observe further, how, as it is in the redemption of His people that God's Holiness is revealed, so it is in the song of redemption that the personal ascription of Holiness to God is found. We know how in Scripture, after some striking special interposition of God as Redeemer, the special influence of the Spirit is manifested in some song of praise. It is remarkable how it is in these outbursts of holy enthusiasm, God is praised as the Holy One. See it in the song of Hannah (1 Sam. ii. 2), 'There is none holy as the Lord.' The language of the Seraphim (Isa. vi.) is that of a song of adoration. In the great day of Israel's deliverance the song will be, 'The Lord Jehovah is become my strength and song. Sing unto the Lord, for He hath done excellent things. Cry aloud and shout, thou inhabitant of Zion, for great is _the Holy One_ of Israel in the midst of thee.' Mary sings, 'For He that is mighty hath done great things to me: and _holy_ is His name.' The book of Revelation reveals the living creatures giving glory and honour and thanks to Him that sitteth on the throne; 'and they have no rest day and night, saying, Holy, holy, holy is the Lord God, the Almighty, which was, and which is, and which is to come.' And when the song of Moses and of the Lamb is sung by the sea of glass, it will still be, 'Who shall not fear, O Lord, and glorify Thy name? for Thou only art holy.' It is in the moments of highest inspiration, under the fullest manifestation of God's redeeming power, that His servants speak of His Holiness. In Ps. xcvii. we read, 'Rejoice in the Lord, ye righteous, and give thanks at the remembrance of His Holiness.' And in Ps. xcix., which has, with its thrice repeated holy, been called the echo on earth of the Thrice Holy of heaven, we sing-- Let them praise Thy great and terrible name. HOLY IS HE. Exalt ye the Lord our God, and worship at His footstool: HOLY IS HE. Exalt ye the Lord our God, and worship at His holy hill: For the Lord our God is HOLY. It is only under the influence of high spiritual elevation and joy that God's holiness can be fully apprehended or rightly worshipped. The sentiment that becomes us as we worship the Holy One, that fits us for knowing and worshipping Him aright, is the spirit of praise that sings and shouts for joy in the experience of His full salvation. But is not this at variance with the lesson we learnt at Horeb, when God spake, 'Draw not nigh hither: put off thy shoes,' and where Moses feared and hid his face? And is not this in very deed the posture that becomes us as creatures and sinners? It is indeed: and yet the two sentiments are not at variance: rather they are indispensable to each other; the fear is the preparation for the praise and the glory. Or is it not that same Moses who hid his face and feared to look upon God, who afterwards beheld His glory until his own face shone with a brightness that men could not bear to look upon? And is not the song that sings here of God as glorious in holiness, also the song of Moses who feared and hid his face? Have we not seen in the fire, and in God, and specially in His Holiness, the twofold aspect; consuming and purifying, repelling and attracting, judging and saving, with the latter in each case not only the accompaniment but the result of the former? And so we shall find that the deeper the humbling and the fear in God's Holy Presence, and the more real and complete the putting off of all that is of self and of nature, even to the putting off, the complete death of the old man and his will, the more hearty the giving up to be consumed of what is sinful, the deeper and fuller will be the praise and joy with which we daily sing our song of redemption: 'Who is like unto Thee, O Lord, glorious in holiness, fearful in praises, doing wonders?' '_Glorious_ in holiness; _fearful_ in praises:' the song itself harmonizes the apparently conflicting elements. Yes, I will sing of judgment and of mercy. I will rejoice with trembling as I praise the Holy One. As I look upon the two sides of His Holiness, as revealed to the Egyptians and the Israelites, I remember that what was there separated is in me united. By nature I am the Egyptian, an enemy doomed to destruction; by grace, an Israelite chosen for redemption. In me the fire must consume and destroy; only as judgment does its work, can mercy fully save. It is only as I tremble before the Searching Light and the Burning Fire and the Consuming Heat of the Holy One, as I yield the Egyptian nature to be judged and condemned and slain, that the Israelite will be redeemed to know aright his God as the God of salvation, and to rejoice in Him. Blessed be God! the judgment is past. In Christ, the burning bush, the fire of the Divine Holiness did its double work: in Him sin was condemned in the flesh; in Him we are free. In giving up His will to the death, and doing God's will, Christ sanctified Himself; and in that will we are sanctified too. His crucifixion, with its judgment of the flesh, His death, with its entire putting off of what is of nature, is not only for us, but is really ours; a life and a power working within us by His Spirit. Day by day we abide in Him. Tremblingly but rejoicingly we take our stand in Him, for the Power of Holiness as Judgment to vindicate within us its fierce vengeance against what is sin and flesh, and so to let the Power of Holiness as Redemption accomplish that glorious work that makes us give thanks at the remembrance of His Holiness. And so the shout of Salvation rings ever deeper and truer and louder through our life, 'Who is like unto Thee, O Lord, among the gods? Who is like unto Thee, glorious in holiness, fearful in praises, doing wonders?' BE YE HOLY, AS I AM HOLY. '_Who_ is like unto Thee, O Lord! glorious in holiness, fearful in praises, doing wonders?' With my whole heart would I join in this song of redemption, and rejoice in Thee as the God of my salvation. O my God! let Thy Spirit, from whom these words of holy joy and triumph came, so reveal within me the great redemption as a personal experience, that my whole life may be one song of trembling and adoring wonder. I beseech Thee especially, let my whole heart be filled with Thyself, glorious in holiness, fearful in praises, who alone doest wonders. Let the fear of Thy Holiness make me tremble at all there is in me of self and flesh, and lead me in my worship to deny and crucify my own wisdom, that the Spirit of Thy Holiness may breathe in me. Let the fear of the Lord give its deep undertone to all my coming in and going out in Thy Holy Presence. Prepare me thus for giving praise without ceasing at the remembrance of Thy holiness. O my God! I would rejoice in Thee as my Redeemer, MY HOLY ONE, with a joy unspeakable and full of glory. As my Redeemer, Thou makest me holy. With my whole heart do I trust Thee to do it, to sanctify me wholly. I do believe in Thy promise. I do believe in Thyself, and believing I receive Thee, the Holy One, my Redeemer. Who is like unto Thee, O Lord! glorious in holiness, fearful in praises, doing wonders? 1. _God's Holiness as Glory._ God is glorified in the holiness of His people. True holiness always gives glory to God alone. Live to the glory of God: that is holiness. Live holily: that will glorify God. To lose sight of self, and seek only God's glory, is holiness. 2. _Our Holiness as Praise._ Praise gives glory to God, and is thus an element of holiness. 'Thou art holy, Thou that inhabitest the praises of Israel.' 3. God's Holiness, His holy redeeming love, is cause of unceasing joy and praise. Praise God every day for it. But you cannot do this unless you live in it. May God's holiness become so glorious to us, as we understand that whatever we see of His glory is just the outshining of His holiness, that we cannot help rejoicing in it, and in Him the Holy One. 4. The spirit of the fear of the Lord and the spirit of praise may, at first sight, appear to be at variance. But it is not so. The humility that fears the Holy One will also praise Him: 'Ye that fear the Lord: praise the Lord.' The lower we lie in the fear of God, and the fear of self, the more surely will He lift us up in due time to praise Him. Seventh Day. HOLY IN CHRIST. Holiness and Obedience. 'Ye have seen what I did to the Egyptians, and how I bare you on eagles' wings, and brought you _unto myself_. Now therefore, if ye will _obey my voice indeed_, and keep my covenant, ye shall be a peculiar treasure unto me above all people: ye shall be unto me an _holy_ nation.'--Ex. xix. 4-6. Israel has reached Horeb. The law is to be given and the covenant made. Here are God's first words to the people; He speaks of redemption and its blessing, fellowship with Himself: 'Ye have seen how I brought you _unto myself_.' He speaks of holiness as His purpose in redemption: 'Ye shall be unto me an _holy_ nation.' And as the link between the two He places obedience: 'If ye will indeed _obey_ my voice, ye shall be unto me an _holy_ nation.' God's will is the expression of His holiness; as we do His will, we come into contact with His holiness. The link between Redemption and Holiness is Obedience. This takes us back to what we saw in Paradise. God sanctified the seventh day as the time for sanctifying man. And what was the first thing He did with this purpose? He gave him a commandment. Obedience to that commandment would have opened the door, would have been the entrance, into the Holiness of God. Holiness is a moral attribute; and moral is that which a free will chooses and determines for itself. What God creates and gives is only naturally good; what man wills to have of God and His will, and really appropriates, has moral worth, and leads to holiness. In creation God manifested His wise and good will. His holy will He speaks in His commands. As that holy will enters man's will, as man's will accepts and unites itself with God's will, he becomes holy. After creation, in the seventh day, God took man up into His work of sanctification to make him holy. Obedience is the path to holiness, because it is the path to union with God's holy will; with man unfallen, as with fallen man, in redemption here and in glory above, in all the holy angels, in Christ the Holy One of God Himself, obedience is the path of holiness. It is not itself holiness: but as the will opens itself to accept and to do the will of God, God communicates Himself and His Holiness. To obey His voice is to follow Him as He leads in the way to the full revelation and communication of Himself and His blessed nature as the Holy One. Obedience. Not knowledge of the will of God, not even approval, not even the will to do it, but the doing of it. Knowledge, and approval, and will must lead to action; the will of God must be _done_. 'If ye indeed obey my voice, ye shall be unto me an holy nation.' It is not faith, and not worship, and not profession, that God here asks in the first place from His people when He speaks of holiness; it is obedience. God's will must be _done_ on earth, as in heaven. 'Remember _and do_ all my commandments, that ye may be holy to your God' (Num. xv. 40). 'Sanctify yourselves therefore, and be ye holy; and ye shall keep my statutes _and do_ them. I am the Lord which sanctify you' (Lev. xx. 7, 8). 'Therefore shall ye keep my commandments _and do_ them: I am the Lord: I will be hallowed among the children of Israel: I am the Lord which hallow you, that brought you up out of the land of Egypt' (xxii 21, 33). A moment's reflection will make the reason of this clear to us. It is in a man's work that he manifests what he is. I may know what is good, and yet not approve it. I may approve, and yet not will it. I may in a certain sense will it, and yet be wanting in the energy, or the self-sacrifice, or the power that will rouse and do the thing. Thinking is easier than willing, and willing is easier than doing. Action alone proves whether the object of my interest has complete mastery over me. God wants His will _done_. This alone is obedience. In this alone it is seen whether the whole heart, with all its strength and will, has given itself over to the will of God; whether we live it, and are ready at any sacrifice to make it our own by doing it. God has no other way for making us holy. 'Ye shall keep my statutes _and do_ them: I am the Lord which make you holy.' To all seekers after holiness this is a lesson of deep importance. Obedience is not holiness; holiness is something far higher, something that comes from God to us, or rather, something of God coming into us. But obedience is _indispensable_ to holiness: it cannot exist without it. While, therefore, your heart seeks to follow the teaching of God's word, and looks in faith to what God has done, as He has made you _holy in Christ_, and to what God is still to do through the Spirit of Holiness as He fulfils the promise, 'The very God of peace sanctify you wholly,' never for one moment forget to be obedient. 'If ye shall indeed obey my voice, ye shall be an holy nation to me.' Begin by doing at once whatever appears right to do. Give up at once whatever conscience tells that you dare not say is according to the will of God. Not only pray for light and strength, but _act_; do what God says. 'He that _doeth_ the will of God is my brother,' Jesus says. Every son of God has been begotten of the will of God: in it he has his life. To do the Father's will is the meat, the strength, the mark, of every son of God. It is nothing less than the surrender to such a life of simple and entire obedience that is implied in becoming a Christian. There are, alas! too many Christians who, from the want either of proper instruction, or of proper attention to the teaching of God's word, have never realized the place of supreme importance that obedience takes in the Christian life. They know not that Christ, and redemption, and faith all lead to it, because through it alone is the way to the fellowship of the Love, and the Likeness, and the Glory of God. We have all, possibly, suffered from it ourselves: in our prayers and efforts after the perfect peace and the rest of faith, after the abiding joy and the increasing power of the Christian life, there has been a secret something hindering the blessing, or causing the speedy loss of what had been apprehended. A wrong impression as to the absolute necessity of obedience was probably the cause. It cannot too earnestly be insisted on that the freeness and mighty power of grace has this for its object from our conversion onwards, the restoring us to the active obedience and harmony with God's will from which we had fallen through the first sin in Paradise. Obedience leads to God and His Holiness. It is in obedience that the will is moulded, and the character fashioned, and an inner man built up which God can clothe and adorn with the beauty of holiness. When a Christian discovers that this has been the missing link, the cause of failure and darkness, there is nothing for it but, in a grand act of surrender, deliberately to choose obedience, universal, whole-hearted obedience, as the law of his life in the power of the Holy Spirit. Let him not fear to make his own the words of Israel at Sinai, in answer to the message of God we are considering: 'All that the Lord hath spoken, _we will do_;' 'All that the Lord hath said _will we do_, and be obedient.' What the law could not do, in that it was weak through the flesh, God hath done by the gift of His Son and Spirit. The law-giving of Sinai on tables of stone has been succeeded by the law-giving of the Spirit on the table of the heart: the Holy Spirit is the power of obedience, and is so the Spirit of Holiness, who, in obedience, prepares our hearts for being the dwelling of the Holy One. Let us in this faith yield ourselves to a life of obedience: it is the New Testament path to the realization of the promise: 'If ye will _obey_ my voice indeed, ye shall be unto me an _holy_ nation.' We have already seen how holiness in its very nature supposes the personal relation to God, His personal presence. 'I have brought you _unto myself_; if ye obey, ye shall be _unto me_ an holy nation.' It is as we understand and hold fast this personal element that obedience will become possible, and will lead to holiness. Mark well God's words: 'If ye will obey my _voice_, and keep my covenant.' The voice is more than a law or a book; it always implies a living person and intercourse with him. It is this that is the secret of gospel obedience: hearing the voice and following the lead of Jesus as a personal friend, a living Saviour. It is being led by the Spirit of God, having Him to reveal the Presence, and the Will, and the Love of the Father, that will work in us that personal relation which the New Testament means when it speaks of doing everything unto the Lord, as pleasing God. Such obedience is the pathway of holiness. Its every act is a link to the living God, a surrender of the being for God's will, for God Himself to take possession. In the process of assimilation, slow but sure, by which the will of God, as the meat of our souls, is taken up into our inmost being, our spiritual nature is strengthened, is spiritualized, growing up into an holy temple in which God can reveal Himself and take up His abode. Let every believer study to realize this. When God sanctified the seventh day as His period of making holy, He taught us that He could not do it at once. The revelation and communication of holiness must be gradual, as man is prepared to receive it. God's sanctifying work with each of us, as with the race, needs time. The time it needs and seeks is the life of daily, hourly obedience. All that is spent in self-will, and not in the living relation to the Lord, is lost. But when the heart seeks day by day to hearken to the voice and to obey it, the Holy One Himself watches over His words to fulfil them: 'Ye shall be unto me an holy nation.' In a way of which the soul beforehand can have but little conception, God will overshadow and make His abode in the obedient heart. The habit of always listening for the voice and obeying it will only be the building of the temple: the Living God Himself, the Holy One, will come to take up His abode. The glory of the Lord will fill the house, and the promise be made true, 'I will sanctify it by my glory.' 'I brought you _unto myself_; if ye will obey _my voice_ in deed, ye shall be _unto me_ an holy nation.' Seekers after holiness! God has brought you to Himself. And now His voice speaks to you all the thoughts of His heart, that as you take them in, and make them your own, and make His will your own by living and doing it, you may enter into the most complete union with Himself, the union of will as well as of life, and so become a holy people unto Him. Let obedience, the listening to and the doing the will of God, be the joy and the glory of your life; it will give you access unto the Holiness of God. BE HOLY, AS I AM HOLY. O my God! Thou hast redeemed me for Thyself, that Thou mightest have me wholly as Thine own, possessing, filling my inmost being with Thy own likeness, Thy perfect will, and the glory of Thy Holiness. And Thou seekest to train me, in the power of a free and loving will, to take Thy will and make it my own, that in the very centre of my being I may have Thine own perfection dwelling in me. And in Thy words Thou revealest Thy will, that as I accept and keep them I may master their Divine contents, and will all that Thou willest. O my God! let me live day by day in such fellowship with Thee, that I may indeed in everything hear Thy voice, the living voice of the living God speaking to me. Let the Holy Spirit, the Spirit of Thy Holiness, be to me Thy voice guiding me in the path of simple, childlike obedience. I do bless Thee that I have seen that Christ, in whom I am holy, was the obedient one, that in obedience He sanctified Himself to become my sanctification, and that abiding in Him, Thy obedient, holy Child, is abiding in Thy will as once done by Him, and now to be done by me. O my God! I will indeed obey Thy will: make Thou me one of Thy holy nation, a peculiar treasure above all people. Amen. 1. 'He became obedient unto death.' 'Though He was a Son, yet He learned obedience by the things which He suffered.' 'I come to do Thy will.' 'In which will we are sanctified.' Christ's example teaches us that obedience is the only path to the Holiness or the glory of God. Be this your consecration: a surrender in everything to seek and do the will of God. 2. We are 'holy in Christ'--in this Christ who did the will of God and was obedient to the death. In Him it is we are; in Him we are holy. His obedience is the soil in which we are planted, and must be rooted. 'It is my meat to do His will;' obedience was the sustenance of His life; in doing God's will He drew down Divine nourishment; it must be so with us too. 3. As you study what it is to be and abide in Christ, as you rejoice you are in Him, always remember it is Christ who obeyed in whom God has planted you. 4. If ever you feel perplexed about holiness, just yield yourself again to do God's will, and go and do it. It is ours to obey, it is God's to sanctify. 5. _Holy in Christ._ Christ sanctified Himself by obedience, by doing the will of God, and in that will, as done by Him, we have been sanctified. In accepting that will as done by Him, in accepting Him, _I am holy_. In accepting that will of God, as to be done by me, _I become holy_. I am in Him; in every act of living obedience, I enter into living fellowship with Him, and draw the power of His life into mine. 6. Obedience depends upon hearing the voice. Do not imagine you know the will of God. Pray and wait for the inward teaching of the Spirit. Eighth Day. HOLY IN CHRIST. Holiness and Indwelling. 'And let them make me _a holy place_, that I may _dwell_ among them.'--Ex. xxv. 8. 'And the tent shall be _sanctified_ by my glory, and I will _dwell_ among the children of Israel, and will be their God.'--Ex. xxix. 43, 45. The Presence of God makes holy, even when it descends but for a little while, as at Horeb, in the burning bush. How much more must that Presence make holy the place where it dwells, where it fixes its permanent abode! So much is this the case, that the place where God dwells came to be called _the_ holy place, 'the holy place of the habitation of the Most High.' All around where God dwelt was holy: the holy city, the mountain of God's Holiness, His holy house, till we come within the veil, to the most holy place, the holy of holies. It is as _the indwelling God_ that He sanctifies His house, that He reveals Himself as the Holy One in Israel, that He makes us holy too. Because God is holy, _the house_ in which He dwells is holy too. This is the only attribute of God which He can communicate to His house; but this one He can and does communicate. Among men there is a very close link between the character of a house and its occupants. When there is no obstacle to prevent it, the house unintentionally reflects the master's likeness. Holiness expresses not so much an attribute as the very being of God in His infinite perfection, and His house testifies to this one truth, that He is holy, that where He dwells He must have holiness, that His indwelling makes holy. In His first command to His people to build Him a holy place, God distinctly said that it was that He might dwell among them: the dwelling in the house was to be the shadowing forth of His dwelling in the midst of His people. The house with its holiness thus leads us on to the holiness of His dwelling among His redeemed ones. The holy place, the habitation of God's Holiness, was the centre of all God's work in making _Israel_ holy. Everything connected with it was holy. The altar, the priests, the sacrifices, the oil, the bread, the vessels, all were holy, because they belonged to God. From the house there issued the twofold voice--God's call to be holy, God's promise to make holy. God's claim was manifested in the demand for cleansing, for atonement, for holiness, in all who were to draw near, whether as priests or worshippers. And God's promise shone forth from His house in the provision for making holy, in the sanctifying power of the altar, of the blood and the oil. The house embodied the two sides that are united in holiness, the repelling and the attracting, the condemning and the saving. Now by keeping the people at a distance, then by inviting and bringing them nigh, God's house was the great symbol of His own Holiness. He had come nigh even to dwell among them; and yet they might not come nigh, they might never enter the secret place of His presence. All these things are written on our behalf. It is as the Indwelling One that God is the sanctifier of _His people_ still: the Indwelling Presence alone makes us holy. This comes out with special clearness if we note how, the nearer the Presence was, the greater the degree of holiness. Because God dwelt among them, the camp was holy: all uncleanness was to be removed from it. But the holiness of the court of the tabernacle was greater: uncleanness which did not exclude from the camp would not be tolerated there. Then the holy place was still holier, because still nearer God. And the inner sanctuary, where the Presence dwelt on the mercy-seat, was the Holiest of All, was most holy. The principle still holds good: holiness is measured by nearness to God; the more of His Presence, the more of true holiness; perfect indwelling will be perfect holiness. There is none holy but the Lord; there is no holiness but in Him. He cannot part with somewhat of His holiness, and give it to us apart from Himself; we have only so much of holiness as we have of God Himself. And to have Himself truly and fully, we must have Him as the Indwelling One. And His indwelling in a house or locality, without life or spirit, is only a faint shadow of the true indwelling as the Living One, when He enters into and penetrates our very being, and fills us, our very selves, with His own life. There is no union so intimate, so real, so perfect, as that of an indwelling life. Think of the life that circulates through a large and fruitful tree. How it penetrates and fills every portion; how inseparably it unites the whole as long as it really is to exist!--in wood and leaf, in flower and fruit, everywhere the indwelling life flows and fills. This life is the life of nature, the life of the Spirit of God which dwells in nature. It is the same life that animates our bodies, the spirit of nature pervading every portion of them with the power of sensibility and action. Not less intimate, yea rather, far more wonderful and real, is the indwelling of the Spirit of the New Life, through whom God dwells in the heart of the believer. And it is as this indwelling becomes a matter of conscious longing and faith, that the soul obeys the command, 'Let them make me a holy place, that I may dwell among them,' and experiences the truth of the promise, 'The tent shall be sanctified by my glory, and I will dwell among the children of Israel.' It was as the Indwelling One that God revealed Himself in the Son, whom He sanctified and sent into the world. More than once our Lord insisted upon it, 'Believe me, that I am in the Father and _the Father in me_; the Father _abiding in me_ doeth the works.' It is specially as the temple of God that believers are more than once called holy in the New Testament: 'The temple of God is _holy_, which temple ye are.' 'Your body is a temple of the _Holy_ Spirit.' 'All the building groweth unto an holy temple in the Lord.' It is--we shall later on learn to understand this better--just because it is through the Spirit that the heart is prepared for the indwelling, and the indwelling effected and maintained, that the Spirit so peculiarly takes the attribute of Holy. The Indwelling Spirit is the Holy Spirit. The measure of His indwelling, or rather of His revealing the Indwelling Christ, is the measure of holiness. We have seen what the various degrees of nearness to God's Presence in Israel were. They are still to be found. You have Christians who dwell in the camp, but know little of drawing nigh to the Holy One. Then you have outer court Christians: they long for pardon and peace, they come ever again to the altar of atonement; but they know little of true nearness or holiness; of their privilege as priests to enter the holy place. Others there are who have learnt that this is their calling, and long to draw near, and yet hardly understand the boldness they have to enter into the Holiest of all, and to dwell there. Blessed they to whom this, the secret of the Lord, has been revealed. _They know_ what the rent veil means, and the access into the immediate Presence. The veil hath been taken away from their hearts: they have found the secret of true holiness in the Indwelling of the Holy One, the God who is holy and makes holy. Believer! the God who calls you to holiness is the God of the Indwelling Life. The tabernacle typifies it, the Son reveals it, the Spirit communicates it, the eternal glory will fully manifest it. And you may experience it. It is your calling as a believer to be God's Holy Temple. Oh, do but yield yourself to His full indwelling! seek not holiness in the first place in what you are or do; seek it in God. Seek it not even as a gift from God, seek it in God Himself, in His indwelling Presence. Worship Him in the beauty of holiness, as He dwells in the high and holy place. And as you worship, listen to His voice: 'Thus saith the high and lofty One, that inhabiteth eternity, whose name is Holy: I dwell in the high and holy place, _with him also_ that is of a contrite and humble spirit.' It is as the Spirit strengthens us mightily in the inward man, so that Christ dwells in our heart by faith, and the Father comes and makes with Him His abode in us, that we are truly holy. Oh, let us but, in true, true-hearted consecration, yield ourselves to be, as distinctly as was the tabernacle or the temple, given up entirely to be the dwelling of the Most High, the habitation of His Holiness. A house filled with the glory of God, a heart filled with all the fulness of God, is God's promise, is our portion. Let us in faith claim and accept and hold fast the blessing: Christ, the Holy One of God, will in His Father's Name, enter and take possession. Then faith will bring the solution of all our difficulties, the victory over all our failures, the fulfilment of all our desires: 'The tent, the heart, shall be sanctified by my glory; and I will dwell among them.' The open secret of true holiness, the secret of the joy unspeakable, is Christ dwelling in the heart by faith. BE HOLY, AS I AM HOLY. We bow our knees to the Father of our Lord Jesus, that He would grant unto us, according to the riches of His glory, what He Himself has taught us to ask for. We ask nothing less than this, that Christ may dwell in our hearts by faith. We long for that most blessed, permanent, conscious indwelling of the Lord Jesus in the heart, which He so distinctly promised as the fruit of the Holy Spirit's coming. Father! we ask for what He meant when He spake of the loving, obedient disciple: 'I will come and manifest myself to him. We will come and take up our abode with him.' Oh, grant unto us this indwelling of Christ in the heart by faith! And for this, we beseech Thee, grant us to be strengthened with might by Thy Spirit in the inner man. O Most Mighty God! let the spirit of Thy Divine Power work mightily within us, renewing our mind, and will, and affections, so that the heart be all prepared and furnished as a temple, as a home, for Jesus. Let that Blessed Spirit strengthen us to the faith that receives the Blessed Saviour and His indwelling Presence. O Most Gracious Father! hear our cry. We do bow our knee to Thee. We plead the riches of Thy glory. We praise Thee who art mighty to do above what we can ask or think. We wait on Thee, O our Father: oh, grant us a mighty strengthening by the Spirit in the inner man, that this bliss may be ours in its full blessedness, our Lord Jesus dwelling in the heart. We ask it in His Name. Amen. 1. God's dwelling in the midst of Israel was the great central fact to which all the commands concerning holiness were but preparatory and subordinate. So the work of the Holy Spirit also culminates in the personal indwelling of Christ. (John xiv. 21, 23. Eph. iii. 16, 17.) Aim at this and expect it. 2. The tabernacle with its three divisions was, as of other spiritual truths, so the image of man's threefold nature. Our spirit is the Holiest of all, where God is meant to dwell, where the Holy Spirit is given. The life of the soul, with its powers of feeling, knowing, and willing, is the holy place. And the outer life of the body, of conduct and action, is the outer court. Begin by believing that the Spirit dwells in the inmost sanctuary, where His workings are secret and hidden. Honour Him by trusting Him to work, by yielding to Him in silent worship before God. From within He will take possession of thought and will; He will even fill the outer court, the body, with the Holiness of God. 'The God of peace Himself sanctify you wholly; and may your spirit, and soul, and body, be preserved entire, without blame. Faithful is He which calleth you, who will also do it.' 3. God's indwelling was within the veil, in the unseen, the secret place. Faith knew it, and served Him with holy fear. Our faith knows that God the Holy Spirit has His abode in the hidden place of our inner life. Set open your inmost being to Him; bow in lowly reverence before the Holy One as you yield yourself to His working. Holiness is the presence of the Indwelling One. Ninth Day. HOLY IN CHRIST. Holiness and Mediation. 'And thou shalt make a plate of pure gold, and grave upon it, HOLINESS TO THE LORD. And it shall be upon Aaron's forehead, that Aaron may bear the iniquity of the _holy_ things, which the children of Israel shall _hallow_ in all their _holy_ gifts; and it shall always be upon his forehead, that they may be accepted before the Lord.'--Ex. xxviii. 36, 38. God's house was to be the dwelling-place of His Holiness, the place where He was to reveal Himself; as the Holy One, not to be approached but with fear and trembling; as the Holy-making One, drawing to Himself all who would be made partakers of His Holiness. Of the revelation of His Holy and His Holy-making Presence, the centre is found in the person of the high priest, in his double capacity of representing God with man, and man with God. He is the embodiment of the Divine Holiness in human form, and of human holiness as a Divine gift, as far as the dispensation of symbol and shadow could offer and express it. In him God came near to sanctify and bless the people. In him the people came their very nearest to God. And yet the very Day of Atonement, in which he might enter into the Most Holy, was but the proof of how unholy man was, and how unfit to abide in God's Presence. In himself a proof of Israel's unholiness, he yet was a type and picture of the coming Saviour, our blessed Lord Jesus, a wondrous exhibition of the way in which hereafter the holiness of God should become the portion of His people. Among the many points in which the high priest typified Christ as our sanctification, there is, perhaps, none more suggestive or beautiful than _the holy crown_ he wore on his forehead. Everything about him was to be holy. His garments were holy garments. But there was to be one thing in which this holiness reached its fullest manifestation. On his forehead he was always to wear a plate of gold, with the words engraved on it, HOLINESS TO THE LORD. Every one was to read there that the whole object of his existence, the one thing he lived for, was, to be the embodiment and the bearer of the Divine holiness, the chosen one through whom God's holiness might flow out in blessing upon the people. The way in which the blessing of the holy crown was to act was a most remarkable one. In bearing HOLINESS TO THE LORD on his forehead, he is, we read, 'to bear the iniquity of the holy things which the children of Israel hallow; that they may be accepted before the Lord.' For every sin some sacrifice or way of atonement had been devised. But how about the sin that cleaves to the very sacrifice and religious service itself? 'Thou desirest truth in the inward parts.' How painfully the worshipper might be oppressed by the consciousness that his penitence, his faith, his love, his obedience, his consecration, were all imperfect and defiled! For this need, too, of the worshipper, God had provided. The holiness of the high priest covered the sin and the unholiness of his holy things. The holy crown was God's pledge that the holiness of the high priest rendered the worshipper acceptable. If he was unholy, there was one among his brethren who was holy, who had a holiness that could avail for him too, a holiness he could trust in. He could look to the high priest not only to effect atonement by his blood-sprinkling, but in his person to secure a holiness too that made him and his gifts most acceptable. In the consciousness of personal unholiness he might rejoice in a mediator, in the holiness of Another than himself, the priest whom God had provided. Have we not here a most precious lesson, leading us a step farther on in the way of holiness? To our question, How God makes holy, we have the Divine answer: Through a man whom the Divine Holiness has chosen to rest upon, and whose holiness belongs to us, as His brethren, the very members of His own body. Through a holiness which is of such efficacy, that the very sins of our holy things disappear, and we can enter the Holy Presence with the assurance of being altogether well-pleasing. And is not just this the lesson that many earnest seekers after holiness need? They know all that the Word teaches of the blessed Atonement, and the full pardon it has brought. They believe in the Father's wonderful love, and what He is ready to do for them. And yet, when they hear of the childlike simplicity, the assurance of faith, the loving obedience, and the blessed surrender with which the Father expects them to come and receive the blessing, their heart fails for fear. It is as if the blessing were all beyond their reach. What avails that the Holy One is said to come so nigh? their unholiness renders them incapable of claiming or grasping the Presence that offers itself to them. Just see how the Holy One here reveals His way of making holy, and preparing for the fellowship of His Holiness. In His Elect One as Mediator, holiness is prepared and treasured up enough for all who come through Him. As I bow to pray or worship, and feel how much there is still wanting of that humility, and fervency, and faith, that God has a right to demand, I may look up to the High Priest in His Holiness, to the holy crown upon His forehead, and believe that the iniquity of my holy things is borne and taken away. I may, with all my deficiency and unworthiness, know most assuredly that my prayer is acceptable, a sweet-smelling savour. I may look up to the Holy One to see Him smiling on me, for the sake of His Anointed One. 'The holy crown shall always be on His forehead, that they may be accepted before the Lord.' It is the blessed truth of Substitution--One for all--of Mediatorship; God's way of making us holy. The sacrifice of the worshipping Israelite is holy and acceptable in virtue of the holiness of Another. The Old Testament shadow can never adequately set forth the New Testament reality with its fulness of grace and truth. As we proceed in our study, we shall find that the holiness of Jesus our sanctification is not only imputed but imparted, because we are _in Him_; the new man we have put on is created in true holiness. We are not only counted holy; we are holy, we have received a new holy nature in Christ Jesus. 'He that sanctifieth and they who are sanctified are all _of One_; therefore He is not ashamed to call them brethren.' It is our living union with Jesus, God's Holy One, that has given us the new and holy nature, and with that a claim and a share in all the holiness there is in Jesus. And so, as often as we are conscious of how unholy we are, we have only to come under the covering of the Holiness of Jesus, to enjoy the full assurance that we and our gifts are most acceptable. However great be the weakness of our faith, the shortcoming in our desire for God's glory, the lack in our love or zeal, as we see Jesus, with Holiness to the Lord on His forehead, we lift up our faces to receive the Divine smile of full approval and perfect acceptance. This is God's way of making holy. Not only with the holy place, as we have seen, but with the holy persons too, He begins with a centre, and from that in ever-widening circle makes holy. And that this Divine method will be crowned with success we may be sure. In the Word we find a most remarkable illustration of the extent to which it will be realized. We find the words on the holy crown once again in the Old Testament at its close. In the day of the Lord, 'there shall be upon the bells of the horses, HOLINESS TO THE LORD.' The high priest's motto shall then have become the watchword of daily life; every article of beauty or of service shall be holy too; from the head it shall have extended to the skirts of the garments. Let us begin with realizing the Holiness of Jesus in its power to cover the iniquity of our holy things; let us make proof of it, and no longer suffer our unworthiness to keep us back or make us doubt; let us believe that we and our holy things are acceptable, because in Christ holy to the Lord; let us live in this consciousness of acceptance, and enter into fellowship with the Holy One. As we enter in and abide in the holiness of Jesus, it will enter in and abide in us. It will take possession and spread its conquering power through our whole life, until with us too upon everything that belongs to us the word shall shine, HOLINESS TO THE LORD. And we shall again find how God's way of holiness is ever from a centre, here the centre of our renewed nature, throughout the whole circumference of our being, to make His Holiness prove its power. Let us but dwell under the covering of the Holiness of Jesus, as He takes away the iniquity of our holy things, He will make us and our life holy to the Lord. BE YE HOLY, FOR I AM HOLY. O my God and Father! my soul doth bless Thee for this wondrous revelation of what Thy way and Thy grace is with those whom Thou hast called 'Holy in Christ.' Thou knowest, O Lord, how continually our hearts have limited our acceptance with Thee by our attainments, and conscious shortcoming has wrought condemnation. We knew too little how, in the Holiness of Him who makes us holy, there is a Divinely infinite efficacy to cover our iniquities, and give us the assurance of perfect acceptance. Blessed Father! open our eyes to see, and our hearts to understand this holy crown of our blessed Jesus, with its wondrous and most blessed, HOLINESS TO THE LORD. And when our hearts condemn us, because our prayers are so little consciously according to the will or to the glory of God, or truly in the name of Jesus, O most Holy Father, be pleased by Thy Spirit to show us how bright the smile and how hearty the welcome is we still have with Thee. Teach us to come in the Holiness of our High Priest, and enter into Thine, until it take possession of us, and permeate our whole being, and all that is in us be holy to the Lord. Amen. 1. Holiness is not something I can see or admire in myself: it is covering myself, losing myself, in the Holiness of Jesus. How wonderfully this is typified in Aaron and the holy crown. And the more I see and have apprehended of the Holiness of Jesus, the less shall I see or seek of holiness in myself. 2. He will make me holy: my tempers and dispositions will be renewed; my heart and mind cleansed and sanctified; holiness will be a new nature; and yet there will be all along the consciousness, humbling and yet full of joy: it is not I; Christ liveth in me. 3. Let us lie very low and tender before God, that the Holy Spirit may reveal to us what it is to be holy in the Holiness of Another, in the Holiness of Jesus, that is, in the Holiness of God. 4. Do not trouble or weary too much to grasp this with the intellect. Just believe it, and look in simplicity and trust to Jesus to make it all right for you. 5. _Holy in Christ._ In childlike faith I take Christ's holiness afresh as my covering before God. In loving obedience I take it into my will and life. I trust and I follow Jesus: this is the path of holiness. 6. If we gather up the lessons we have found in the Word from Paradise downward, we see that the elements of holiness in us are these, each corresponding to some special aspect of God's holiness: deep Restfulness (ch. 3), humble Reverence (ch. 4), entire Surrender (ch. 5), joyful Adoration (ch. 6), simple Obedience (ch. 7). These all prepare for the Divine Indwelling (ch. 8), and this again we have through the Abiding in Jesus with the Crown of Holiness on His head. Tenth Day. HOLY IN CHRIST. Holiness and Separation. 'I am the Lord your God, which have _separated_ you from other people. And ye shall be _holy_ unto me, for I the Lord am _holy_, and have _separated_ you from other people that ye should be _Mine_.'--Lev. xx. 24, 26. 'Until the days be fulfilled, in the which he _separateth_ himself unto the Lord, he shall be _holy_.... All the days of his _separation_ he is _holy_ unto the Lord.'--Num. vi. 5, 8. 'Wherefore Jesus also, that He might _sanctify_ the people through His own blood, suffered _without the gate_. Let us therefore go forth unto Him _without the camp_, bearing His reproach.'--Heb. xiii. 12, 13. Separation is not holiness, but is the way to it. Though there can be no holiness without separation, there can be separation that does not lead to holiness. It is of deep importance to understand both the difference and the connection, that we may be kept from the right-hand error of counting separation alone as holiness, as well as the left-hand error of seeking holiness without separation. The Hebrew word for holiness possibly comes from a root that means to separate. But where we have in our translation 'separate' or 'sever' or 'set apart,' we have quite different words.[3] The word for holy is used exclusively to express that special idea. And though the idea of holy always includes that of separation, it is itself something infinitely higher. It is of great importance to understand this well, because the being set apart to God, the surrender to His claim, the devotion or consecration to His service, is often spoken of as if this constituted holiness. We cannot too earnestly press the thought that this is only the beginning, the presupposition: holiness itself is infinitely more; not what I am, or do, or give, is holiness, but what God is, and gives, and does to me. It is God's taking possession of me that makes me holy; it is the Presence and the glory of God that really makes holy. A careful study of God's words to Israel will make this clear to us. Eight times we find the expression in Leviticus, 'Ye shall be holy, for I am holy.' Holiness is the highest attribute of God, expressive not only of His relation to Israel, but of His very being and nature, His infinite moral perfection. And though it is by very slow and gradual steps that He can teach the carnal darkened mind of man what this means, yet from the very commencement He tells His people that His purpose is that they should be like Himself--holy because and as He is holy. To tell me that God separates men for Himself to be His, even as He gives Himself to be theirs, tells me of a relation that exists, but tells me nothing of the real nature of this Holy Being, or of the essential worth of the holiness He will communicate to me. Separation is only the setting apart and taking possession of the vessel to be cleansed and used; it is the filling of it with the precious contents we entrust to it that gives it its real value. Holiness is the Divine filling without which the separation leaves us empty. Separation is not holiness. But separation is essential to holiness. 'I have separated you from other people, and ye shall be holy.' Until I have chosen out and separated a vessel from those around it, and, if need be, cleansed it, I cannot fill or use it. I must have it in my hand, full and exclusive command of it for the time being, or I will not pour into it the precious milk or wine. And just so God separated His people when He brought them up out of Egypt, separated them _unto Himself_ when He gave them His covenant and His law, that He might have them under His control and power, to work out His purpose of making them holy. This He could not do until He had them apart, and had wakened in them the consciousness that they were His peculiar people, wholly and only His, until He had so taught them also to separate themselves to Him. Separation is essential to holiness. The institution of the Nazarite will confirm this, and will also bring out very clearly what separation means. Israel was meant to be a holy nation. Its holiness was specially typified in its priests. With regard to the individual Israelite, we nowhere read in the books of Moses of his being holy. But there were ordinances through which the Israelite, who would fain prove his desire to be entirely holy, could do so. He might separate himself from the ordinary life of the nation around him, and live the life of a Nazarite, a separated one. This separation was accepted, in those days of shadow and type, as holiness. 'All the days of his separation he is holy unto the Lord.' The separation consisted specially in three things--temperance, in abstinence from the fruit of the vine; humiliation, in not cutting or shaving his hair ('it is a shame for a man if he have long hair'); self-sacrifice, in not defiling himself for even father or mother, on their death. What we must specially note is that the separation was not from things unlawful, but things lawful. There was nothing sinful in itself in Abraham living in his father's house, or in Israel dwelling in Egypt. It is in giving up, not only what can be proved to be sin, but all that may hinder the full intensity of our surrender into God's hands to make us holy, that the spirit of separation is manifested. Let us learn the lessons this truth suggests. We must know _the need_ for separation. It is no arbitrary demand of God, but has its ground in the very nature of things. To separate a thing is to set it free for one special use or purpose, that it may with undivided power fulfil the will of him who chose it, and so realize its destiny. It is the principle that lies at the root of all division of labour; complete separation to one branch of study or labour is the way to success and perfection. I have before me an oak forest with the trees all shooting up straight and close to each other. On the outskirts there is one tree separated from his fellows; its heavy trunk and wide-spreading branches prove how its being separated, and having a large piece of ground separated to its own use, over which roots and branches can spread, is the secret of growth and greatness. Our human powers are limited; if God is to take full possession, if we are fully to enjoy Him, separation to Him is nothing but the simple, natural, indispensable requisite. God wants us all to Himself, that He may give Himself all to us. We must know the _purpose_ of separation. It is to be found in what God has said, 'Ye shall be holy unto me, for I the Lord am holy, and have separated you from the people, that ye should be MINE.' God has separated us _for Himself_ in the deepest sense of the word; that He might enter into us, and show forth Himself in us. His holiness is the sum and the centre of all His perfections; it is that He may make us holy like Himself that He has separated us. Separation never has any value in itself; it may become most wrong or hurtful; everything depends upon the object proposed. It is as God gets and takes full possession of us, as the eternal life in Christ has the mastery of our whole being, as the Holy Spirit flows fully and freely through us, so that we dwell in God, and God in us, that separation will be, not a thing of ordinances and observances, but a spiritual reality. And it is as this purpose of God is seen and accepted and followed after, that difficult questions as to what we must be separated from, and how much sacrifice separation demands, will find an easy answer. God separates from all that does not lead us into His holiness and fellowship. We need, above all, to know _the power_ of separation, the power that leads us into it in the spirit of desire and of joy, of liberty and of love. The great separating word in human language is the word _Mine_. In this we have the great spring of effort and of happiness: in the child with its toys, in labour with its gains and rewards, in the patriot who dies for his country, it is this _Mine_ that lays its hand on what it sets apart from all else. It is the great word that love uses. Be it the child that says to its mother, My own mamma, and calls forth the response, My own child; the bridegroom who draws the daughter from her beloved home and parents to become his; or the Holy God who speaks: 'I have separated you from the people, that ye should be _Mine_;' it is always with that _Mine_ that love exerts its mighty power, and draws from all else to itself. God Himself knows no mightier argument, can put forth no more powerful attraction than this, 'that ye should be _Mine_.' And the power of separation will come to us, and work in us, just as we yield ourselves to study and realize that holy purpose, to listen to and appropriate that wondrous _Mine_, to be apprehended and possessed of that Almighty Love. Let us study step by step the wondrous path in which Divine Love does it separating work. In redemption it prepares the way. Israel is separated from Egypt by the blood of the Lamb and the guiding pillar of fire. In its command, 'Come out and be separate,' it wakens man to action; in its promises, 'I will be your God,' it stirs desire and strengthens faith. In all the holy saints and servants of God, and at last in Him who was holy, harmless, undefiled, separate from sinners, it points the way. In the power of the Holy Spirit, the Spirit of Holiness, it seals the separation by the Presence of the Indwelling God. This is indeed the power of separation. _The separating power of the Presence of God_; this it is we need to know. 'Wherein now shall it be known that I have found grace in Thy sight, I and Thy people?' said Moses: 'is it not in _that Thou goest with us_? _so_ shall we be _separated_, I and Thy people, from all the people that are upon the face of the earth.' It is the consciousness of God's Indwelling Presence, making and keeping us His very own, that works the true separateness from the world and its spirit, from ourselves and our own will. And it is as this separation is accepted and prized and persevered in by us, that the holiness of God will enter in and take possession. And we shall realize that to be the Lord's property, a people of His own, is infinitely more than merely to be accounted or acknowledged as His, that it means nothing less than that God, in the power and indwelling of the Holy Ghost, fills our being, our affections, and our will with His own life and holiness. He separates us for Himself, and sanctifies us to be His dwelling. He comes Himself to take personal possession by the indwelling of Christ in the heart. And we are then truly separate, and kept separate, by the presence of God within us. BE YE HOLY, FOR I AM HOLY. O my God! who hast separated me for Thyself, I beseech Thee, by Thy mighty power, to make this Divine separation deed and truth to me. May within, in the depths of my own spirit, and without, in all my intercourse, the crown of separation of my God be upon me. I pray Thee especially, O my God, to perfect in power the separation from self! Let Thy Presence in the indwelling of my Lord Jesus be the power that banishes self from the throne. I have turned from it with abhorrence; oh, my Father, reveal Thy Son fully in me! it is His enthronement in my heart can keep me as Thy own, as Himself takes the place of myself. And give me grace, Lord, in my outward life to wait for a Divine wisdom, that I may know to witness, for Thy glory and for what Thy people need, to the blessedness of an entire giving up of everything for God, a separation that holds back nothing, to be His and His alone. Holy Lord God! visit Thy people. Oh, withdraw Thou them from the world and conformity to it. Separate, Lord, separate Thine own for Thyself. Separate, Lord, the wheat from the chaff; separate, as by fire, the gold from the dross; that it may be seen who are the Lord's, even His holy ones. Amen. 1. Love separates effectually. With what jealousy a husband claims his wife, a mother her children, a miser his possessions! Pray that the Holy Spirit may show how God brought you to Himself, that you should be His. 'He is a holy God; He is a Jealous God.' God's love shed abroad in the heart makes separation easy. 2. Death separates effectually. If I reckon myself to be indeed dead in Christ, I am separated from self by the power of Christ's death. Life separates still more mightily. As I say, 'Not I, but Christ liveth in me,' I am lifted up out of the life of self. 3. Separation must be manifest; it is meant as a witness to others and ourselves; it must find expression in the external, if internally it is to be real and strong. It is the characteristic of a symbolic action that it not merely expresses a feeling, but nourishes and strengthens the feeling to which it corresponds. When the soul enters the fellowship of God, it feels the need of external separation, sometimes even from what appears to others harmless. If animated by the spirit of lowly consecration to God, the external may be a great strengthening of the true separateness. 4. Separation to God and appropriation by Him go together. This has been the blessing that has come to martyrs, confessors, missionaries,--all who have given distinct expression to the forsaking all. 5. Separation begins in love, and ends in love. The spirit of separation is the spirit of self-sacrifice, of surrender to the love of God; the truly separate one will be the most loving and love-winning, given up to serve God and man. Is not what separates, what distinguishes Jesus from all others, His self-sacrificing love? This is His separateness, in which we are to be made like Him. 6. God's holiness is His separateness; let us enter into _His_ separateness from the world; that will be our holiness. Unite thyself to God. Then art thou separate and holy. God separates for Himself, not by an act from without, but as His Will and Presence take possession of us. [3] See Note B. Eleventh Day. HOLY IN CHRIST. The Holy One of Israel. 'I am the Lord that brought you up out of the land of Egypt, to be _your God_; ye shall therefore _be holy_, for _I am holy_. I the Lord which _make you holy, am holy_.'--Lev. xi. 45, xxi. 8. 'I am the Lord Thy God, _the Holy One of Israel_, Thy Saviour. Thus saith the Lord, your Redeemer, _the Holy One of Israel_: I am the Lord, _your Holy One_, the Creator of Israel, your King.'--Isa. xliii. 3, 14, 15. In the book of Exodus we found God making provision for the Holiness of His people. In the holy times and holy places, holy persons, holy things, and holy services, He had taught His people that everything around Him, that all that would come near Him, must be holy. He would only dwell in the midst of holiness; His people must be a holy people. But there is no direct mention of God Himself as holy. In the book of Leviticus we are led on a step further. Here first we have God speaking of His own holiness, and making it the plea for the holiness of His people, as well as its pledge and power. Without this the revelation of holiness were incomplete, and the call to holiness powerless. True holiness will come to us as we learn that God Himself alone is holy. It is He alone makes holy; it is as we come to Himself, and in obedience and love are linked to Himself, that His Holiness can rest on us.[4] From the books of Moses onwards we shall find that the name of God as holy is found but seldom in the inspired writings, until we come to Isaiah, the evangelist prophet. There it occurs twenty-six times, and has its true meaning opened up in the way in which it is linked with the name of Saviour and Redeemer. The sentiments of joy and trust and praise, with which a redeemed people would look upon their Deliverer, are all mentioned in connection with the name of the Holy One. 'Cry aloud and shout, thou inhabitant of Zion, for great is _the Holy One of Israel_ in the midst of thee.' 'The poor among men shall rejoice in _the Holy One of Israel_.' 'Thou shalt rejoice in the Lord, and shalt glory in _the Holy One of Israel_.' In Paradise we saw that God the Creator was God the Sanctifier, perfecting the work of His hands. In Israel we saw that God the Redeemer was ever God the Sanctifier, making holy the people He had chosen for Himself. Here in Isaiah we see how it is God the Sanctifier, the Holy One, who is to bring about the great redemption of the New Testament: as the Holy One, He is the Redeemer. God redeems because He is holy, and loves to make holy: Holiness will be Redemption perfected. Redemption and Holiness together are to be found in the personal relation to God. The key to the secret of holiness is offered to each believer in that word: 'Thus saith the Lord, your Redeemer, the Holy One of Israel: I am the Lord, your Holy One.' To come near, to know, to possess the Holy One, and be possessed of Him, is Holiness. If God's Holiness is thus the only hope for ours, it is right that we seek to know what that Holiness is. And though we may find it indeed to be something that passeth knowledge, it will not be in vain to gather up what has been revealed in the Word concerning it. Let us do so in the spirit of holy fear and worship, trusting to the Holy Spirit to be our teacher. And let us first notice how this Holiness of God, though it is often mentioned as one of the Divine attributes, can hardly be counted such, on a level with the others. The other attributes all refer to some special aspect or characteristic of the Divine Nature; Holiness appears to express what is the very essence or perfection of the Divine Being Himself. None of the attributes can be predicated of all that belongs to God; but Scripture speaks of His Holy Name, His Holy Day, His Holy Habitation, His Holy Word. In the word Holy we have the nearest possible approach to a summary of all the Divine perfections, the description of what Divinity is. We speak of the other attributes as Divine perfections, but in this we have the only human expression for the Divine Perfection itself. It is for this reason that theologians have found such difficulty in framing a definition that can express all the word means.[5] The original Hebrew word, whether derived from a root signifying to separate, or another with the idea of shining, expressed the idea of something distinguished from others, separate from them by superior excellence. God is Separate and different from all that is created, keeps Himself separate from all that is not God; as the Holy One He maintains His Divine glory and perfection against whatever might interfere with it: 'There is none holy, but the Lord;' 'To whom will you liken me? or shall I be equal? saith the Holy One.' As Holy, God is indeed the Incomparable One; Holiness is His alone; there is nothing like it in heaven or earth, except when He gives it. And so our holiness will consist, not in a human separation in which we attempt to imitate God's,--no, but in entering into His separateness; belonging entirely to Him; set apart by Him and for Himself. Closely connected with this is the idea of Exaltation: 'Thus saith the High and Holy One, whose name is Holy.' It was the Holy One who was seen sitting upon a throne high and lifted up, the object of the worship of the seraphim. In Psalm xcix. God's Holiness is specially spoken of in connection with His exaltation. For this reason, too, His Holiness is so often connected with His Glory and Majesty (see 'Sixth Day'). And here our holiness will be seen to be nothing but the poverty and humility which comes when 'the loftiness of man is brought low, and the Lord alone is exalted.' If we inquire more closely wherein the infinite excellence of this Separateness and Exaltation consists, we are led to think of the Divine Purity, and that not only in its negative aspect--as hatred of sin--but with the more positive element of perfect beauty. Because we are sinners, and the revelation of God's Holiness is in a world of sin, it is natural, it is right and meet, that the first, that the abiding impression of God's Holiness should be that of an Infinite Purity that cannot look upon sin, in whose Presence it becomes the sinner to hide his face and tremble. The Righteousness of God, forbidding and condemning and punishing sin, has its root in His Holiness, is one of its two elements--the devouring and destroying power of the consuming fire. 'God the Holy One is sanctified in righteousness' (Isa. v. 16); in righteousness the Holiness of the Holy One is maintained and revealed. But Light not only discovers what is impure, that it may be purified, but is in itself a thing of infinite beauty. And so some of our holiest men have not hesitated to speak of God's Holiness as the infinite Pulchritude or Beauty of the Divine Being, the Perfect Purity and Beauty of that Light in which God dwelleth. And if the Holiness of God is to become ours, to rest upon us, and enter into us, there must be, without ceasing, the holy fear that trembles at the thought of grieving the infinite sensitiveness of this Holy One by our sins, and yet side by side, and in perfect harmony with it, the deep longing to behold the Beauty of the Lord, an admiration of its Divine glory, and a joyful surrender to be His alone. We must go one step further. When God says, 'I am holy: _I make holy_,' we see that one of the chief elements of His Holiness is this, that it seeks to communicate itself, to make partaker of its own perfection and blessedness. This is nought but Love. In the wonderful revelation in Isaiah of what the Holy One is to His people, we must beware of misreading God's precious Word. It is not said, that _though_ God is the Holy One, and hates sin, and ought to punish and destroy, that notwithstanding this He will save. By no means. But we are taught that _as_ the Holy One, _just because_ He is the Holy One, who delights to make holy, He will be the Deliverer of His people. (See Hos. xi. 9.) It is Holiness above everything else that we are invited to look to, to trust in, to rejoice in. The Holy One is the Holy-making One: He redeems and saves that He may win our confidence for Himself, that He may draw us to Himself as the Holy One, that in the personal attachment to Himself we may learn to obey, to become of one mind with Him, to be holy as He is holy. The Divine Holiness is thus that infinite Perfection of Divinity in which Righteousness and Love are in perfect harmony, out of which they proceed, and which together they reveal. It is that Energy of the Divine life in the power of which God not only keeps Himself free from all creature weakness or sin, but unceasingly seeks to lift the creature into union with Himself and the full participation of His own purity and perfection. The glory of God as God, as the God of Creation and Redemption, is His Holiness. It is in this that the Separateness and Exaltation of God, even above all thought of man, really consists. 'God is Light;' in His infinite Purity He reveals all darkness, and yet has no fellowship with it. He judges and condemns it; He saves out of it, and lifts up into the fellowship of His own purity and blessedness. This is the Holy One of Israel. It is this God who speaks to us, 'I am the Lord your God: I am holy: I make holy.' It is in the adoring contemplation of His Holiness, in the trustful surrender to it, in the loving fellowship with Himself, the Holy One, that we can be made holy. My brother! would you be holy? listen again, and let, in the deep silence of trust, God's words sink into your heart--'Your Holy One.' Come to Himself and claim Him as your God, and claim all that He, as the Holy One who makes holy, can do for you. Just remember that Holiness is Himself. Come to _Him_; worship _Him_; give _Him_ the glory. Seek not, even from Him, holiness in yourself; let self be abased, and be content that the Holiness is His. As _His_ presence fills your heart, as _His_ Holiness and Glory are your one desire, as _His_ holy Will and Love are your delight,--as the Holy One becomes all in all to you,--you will be holy with the holiness He loves to see. And as, to the end, you see nothing to admire in self, and only Beauty in Him, you will know that He has laid of His glory on you; and your holiness will be found in the song, There is none holy, but the Lord. BE YE HOLY, AS I AM HOLY. O God! we have again heard the wonderful revelation of Thyself, 'I am holy.' And as we felt how infinitely exalted above all our conceptions Thy Holiness is, we heard Thy call, almost still more wonderful, 'Be ye holy, as I am holy.' And as every thought of how we were to be holy, as Thou art holy, failed us, we heard Thy voice once again, in this most wonderful word of all, 'I make you holy.' I am 'your Holy One.' Most Holy God! we do beseech Thee, give us in some due measure to realize how unholy we are, and so to take the place that becomes us in Thy presence. Oh that the sinfulness of our nature, and all that is of self, may be so discovered to us, that it may be no longer possible to live in it! May the Light that reveals this, reveal too, how Thy Holiness is our only hope, our sure refuge, our complete deliverance. O Lord! speak into our souls the word, 'The Holy One, your Redeemer,' 'Your Holy One,' with such power by Thy Spirit, that our faith may grow into the assured confidence that we can be holy as Thou art holy. Holy Lord God! we wait for Thee. Reveal Thyself in power within us, and fit us to be the messengers of Thy Holiness, to tell Thy people how holy Thou art, and how holy we must be, and how holy Thou dost make us. Amen. 1. This Holy One is God Almighty. Before He revealed Himself to Israel as the Holy One, He made Himself known to Abraham as the Almighty, 'who quickeneth the dead.' In all your dealings with God for holiness, remember He is the Almighty One, who can do wonders in you. Say often, 'Glory to Him who is mighty to do exceeding abundantly above all we ask or think.' 2. This Holy One is the Righteous God, a consuming fire. Cast yourself into it, that all that is sinful may be destroyed. As you lay yourself upon the altar, expect the fire. 'And yield your members unto God as instruments of Righteousness.' 3. This Holy One is the God of Love. He is your Father; yield yourself to let the Holy Spirit cry in you, Abba Father! that is, to let Him shed abroad and fill your heart with God's father-love. God's Holiness is His fatherliness; our holiness is childlikeness. Be simple, loving, trustful. 4. This Holy One is God. Let Him be God to you; ruling all, filling all, working all. Worship Him, come near to Him, live with and in and for Him: He will be your holiness. [4] 'I am the Lord your God; ye shall therefore _make holy_ yourselves, and _be holy, for I am holy_' (Lev. xi. 44). 'I am the Lord that bringeth you up out of the land of Egypt to be your God: ye shall therefore _be holy, for I am holy_' (Lev. xi. 45). 'Ye shall _be holy_, for _I the Lord your God am holy_' (Lev. xix. 2). '_Make holy_ yourselves therefore, and _be ye holy_, for I am the Lord your God; ye shall keep my statutes and do them: I am the Lord which _make you holy_' (Lev. xx. 7, 8). 'Ye shall _be holy_ unto me, for _I the Lord am holy_, and have separated you from other people, that ye should be mine' (Lev. xx. 26). 'The priest shall be _holy_ unto thee, for _I the Lord which make you holy, am holy_' (Lev. xxi. 8). 'I will be _hallowed_ among the children of Israel; I am the Lord _which make you holy_' (Lev. xxii. 32). 'I am the Lord _which make them holy_' (Lev. xxi. 15, 23; xxii. 9, 16). [5] See Note C for some account of the different definitions that have been given. Twelfth Day. HOLY IN CHRIST. The Thrice Holy One. 'I saw the Lord sitting on a throne, high and lifted up. Above Him stood the seraphim. And one cried to another, and said, _Holy, holy, holy_ is the Lord of hosts: the whole earth is full of His glory.'--Isa. vi. 1-3. 'And the four living creatures, they have no rest day and night, saying, _Holy, holy, holy_ is the Lord God, the Almighty, which was, and which is, and which is to come.'--Rev. iv. 8. It is not only on earth, but in heaven too, that the Holiness of God is His chief and most glorious attribute. It is not only on earth, but in heaven too, that the highest inspiration of adoration and praise makes mention of His Holiness. The brightest of living beings, they who are ever before and around and above the throne, find their glory in adoring and proclaiming the Holiness of God: surely there can be for us no higher honour than to study and to know, to worship and adore, to proclaim and show forth the glory of the Thrice Holy One. After Moses, as we know, Isaiah was the chief messenger of the Holiness of God. Each had a special preparation for his commission to make known the Holy One. Moses saw the Holy One in the fire, and hid his face and feared to look upon God, and so was prepared for being His messenger, and for praising Him as 'glorious in holiness.' Isaiah, as he heard the song of the seraphim, and saw the fire on the altar, and the house filled with the smoke, cried out, 'Woe is me.' It was not till, in the deep sense of the need of cleansing, he had received the touch of the fire and the purging of his sin, that he might bear to Israel the Gospel of the Holy One as its Redeemer. May it be in the spirit of fear and lowly worship that we listen to the song of the seraphim, and seek to know and worship the Thrice Holy One. And may ours too be the cleansing with the fire, that we may be found fit to tell God's people that He is the Holy One of Israel, their Redeemer. The threefold repetition of the HOLY has at all times by the Church of Christ been connected with the Holy Trinity. The song of the living creatures around the throne (Rev. iv.) is evidence of the truth of this thought. We there find it followed by the adoration of Him who was, and is, and is to come, the Almighty: the Eternal Source, the present manifestation in the Son, the future perfecting of the revelation of God in the Spirit's work in His Church. The truth of the Holy Trinity is often regarded as an abstract doctrine, with little direct bearing on practical life. So far is this from being the case, that a living faith must root in it: some spiritual insight into the relation and the operation of each of the Three, and the reality of their living Oneness, is an essential element of true growth in knowledge and spiritual understanding.[6] Let us here regard the Trinity specially in its relation to God's Holiness and as the source of ours. What does it mean that we adore the Thrice Holy One? God is not only holy, but makes holy: in the revelation of the Three Persons we have the revelation of the way in which God makes holy. The Trinity teaches us that God has revealed Himself in two ways. The Son is _the Form of God_, His manifestation as He shows Himself to man, the Image in which His unseen glory is embodied, and to which man is to be conformed. The Spirit is _the Power of God_, working in man, and leading him up to that Image. In Jesus, He who had been in the form of God took the form of man; and the Divine Holiness was literally manifested in the form of a human life and the members of a human body. A new holy human nature was formed in Christ, to be communicated to us. In His death His own personal holiness was perfected as human obedience, and so the power of sin conquered and broken. Therefore in the resurrection, through the Spirit of Holiness, He was declared to be the Son of God with power to impart His life to us. There the Spirit of Holiness was set free from the veil of the flesh, the trammels that hindered it, and obtained power to enter and dwell in man. The Holy Spirit was poured out as the fruit of Resurrection and Ascension. And the Spirit is now the Power of God in us, working upwards towards Christ, to reproduce His life and Holiness in us, to fit us for fully receiving and showing forth Him in our lives. Christ from above comes to us as the embodiment of the Unseen Holiness of God: the Spirit from within lifts us up to meet Him, and fits us to receive and make our own all that is in Him. The Triune God whom we adore is the Thrice Holy One: the mystery of the Trinity is the mystery of Holiness: the Glory and the Power of the Trinity is the Glory and Power of God who makes us holy. There is God dwelling in light inaccessible, a consuming fire of Holy Love, destroying all that resists, glorifying into its own purity all that yields. There is the Son, casting Himself into that consuming fire, whether in its eternal blessedness in heaven, or its angry wrath on earth, a willing sacrifice, to be its food and its satisfaction, as well as the revelation of its power to destroy and to save. And there is the Spirit of Holiness, the flames of that mighty fire spreading on every side, convicting and judging as the Spirit of Burning, and then transforming into its own brightness and holiness all that it can reach. All the relations of the Three Persons to each other and to us have their root and their meaning in the revelation of God as the Holy One. As we know and partake of Him, we shall know and partake of Holiness. And how shall we know Him? Let us learn to know the Holiness of God as the seraphs do: in the worship of the Thrice Holy One. Let us with veiled faces join in the ceaseless song of adoration: 'Holy, holy, holy is the Lord of hosts.' Each time we meditate on the Word, each prayer to the Holy God, each act of faith in Christ the Holy One, each exercise of waiting dependence on the Holy Spirit, let it be in the spirit of worship: Holy, holy, holy. Let us learn to know the Holiness of God as Isaiah did. He was to be the chosen messenger to reveal and interpret to the people the name, the Holy One of Israel. His preparation was the vision that made him cry out, 'Woe is me! for mine eyes have seen the King, the Lord of hosts.' Let us bow in silence before the Holy One, until our comeliness too be turned into corruption. And then let us believe in the cleansing fire from the altar, the touch of the live coals of the burning holiness, which not only consumes, but purges lips and heart to say, 'Here am I, send me.' Yes, let us worship, whether like the adoring seraphim, or like the trembling prophet, until we know that our service too is accepted, to tell forth the praise of the Thrice Holy One. Holy, holy, holy: if we are indeed to be the messengers of the Holy One, let us seek to enter fully into what this Thrice Holy means. HOLY, the Father, _God above us_, High and Lifted up, whom no man hath seen or can see, whose Holiness none dare approach, but who doth Himself in His Holiness draw nigh to make holy. HOLY, the Son, _God with us_, revealing Divine Holiness in human life, maintaining it amid the suffering of death for us, and preparing a holy life and nature for His people. HOLY, the Spirit, _God in us_, the Power of Holiness within us, reaching out to and embracing Christ, and transforming our inner life into the union and communion of Him in whom we are holy. Holy, holy, holy! it is all holiness. It is only holiness--perfect holiness. This is Divine holiness: holiness hidden and unapproachable; holiness manifested and maintained in human nature; holiness communicated and made our very own. The mystery of the Holy Trinity is the mystery of the Christian life, the mystery of Holiness. The Three are One, and we need to enter ever more deeply into the truth that neither of the Three ever works separate or independent of the other. The Son reveals the Father, and the Father reveals the Son. The Father gives not Himself, but the Spirit: the Spirit speaks not of Himself, but cries Abba Father! The Son is our Sanctification, our Life, our All: the fulness is in Him. And yet we have ever to bow our knees to the Father for Him to reveal Christ in us, for Him to establish us in Christ. And the Father does not this without the Spirit: so that we have to ask to be strengthened mightily by the Spirit, that Christ may dwell in us. Christ gives the Spirit to them that believe and love and obey; the Spirit again gives Christ, formed within and dwelling in the heart. And so in each act of worship, and each step of growth, and each blessed experience of grace, all the Three Persons are actively engaged: the One is ever Three, the Three are ever One. Would you apply this in the life of holiness, let faith in the Holy Trinity be a living practical reality. In every prayer to _the Father_ to sanctify you, take up your position _in Christ_, and do it in the power of _the Spirit within you_. In every exercise of faith _in Christ_ as your Sanctification, let your posture be that of prayer to _the Father_ and trust in Him as He delights to honour the Son, and of quiet expectancy of _the Spirit's_ working, through whom the Father glorifies the Son. In every surrender of the soul to the sanctification of _the Spirit_, to His leading as the Spirit of Holiness, look to _the Father_ who grants His mighty working, and who sanctifies through faith in _the Son_, and expect the Spirit's power to manifest itself in showing the will of God, and Jesus as your Sanctification. If for a time this appears at variance with the simplicity of childlike faith and prayer, be assured that as God has thus revealed Himself, He will teach you so to worship and believe. And so the Holy, holy, holy will become the deep undertone of all our worship and all our life. Children of God! called to be holy as He is holy, oh, come let us bow down and worship in His holy presence! Come and veil the face: withdraw eye and mind from gazing on what passes knowledge, and let the soul be gathered into that inner stillness, in which the worship of the heavenly Sanctuary alone can be heard. Come and cover the feet: withdraw from the rush of work and haste, be it worldly or religious, and learn to worship. Come, and as you fall down in self-abasement, the glory of the Holy One will shine upon you. And as you hear and take up and sing the song, HOLY, HOLY, HOLY, you will find how in such knowledge and worship of the Thrice Holy One is the power that makes you holy. BE HOLY, FOR I AM HOLY. Holy, holy, holy, the Lord God Almighty! which wast, and art, and art to come! I worship Thee as the Triune God. With face veiled and feet covered, I would bow in deep humility and silence, till Thy mercy lift me as on eagles' wings to behold Thy glory. Most merciful God! who hast called me to be holy as Thou art holy, oh, reveal to me somewhat of Thy Holiness! As it shines upon me and strikes death into the creature and the flesh, may even the most involuntary taint of sin, and its slightest movement, become unbearable. As it shines and revives the hope of being partaker of Thy Holiness, may the confidence grow strong that Thou Thyself art making me holy, wilt even make me a messenger of Thy Holiness. Thrice Holy God! I worship Thee as my God. HOLY! THE FATHER; holy and making holy; making holy His own Son and sending Him into the world, that we might behold the very glory of God in a human face, the face of Jesus Christ. HOLY! THE SON; the Holy One of God, fulfilling the will of the Father, and so making holy Himself that He might be our holiness. HOLY! THE SPIRIT; the Spirit of Holiness, dwelling within us, making the Son and His Holiness our own, and so making us partakers of the Holiness of God. O my God! I bow down, and worship, and adore. May even now the worship of heaven that rests not day or night be the worship my soul renders Thee without ceasing. May its song be, down in the depths of the heart, the keynote of my life: HOLY, HOLY, HOLY, Lord God Almighty! which wast, and art, and art to come. Amen. 1. Thought always needs to distinguish and separate: in life alone there is perfect unity. The more we know the living God, the more we shall realize how truly the Three are One. In each act of One Person the other Two are present. There is not a prayer rises but the Presence of the Holy Three is needed through Christ, in the Spirit, we speak to the Father. 2. In faith to apprehend this is to have the secret of holiness. The Holy God above us, ever giving and working; the Holy One of God, the living gift, who has possession of us, in whom we are; the Holy Spirit, God within us, through whom the Father works, and the Son is revealed: this is the God who says, I am holy, I make holy. In the perfect unity of the work of the Three, holiness is found. 3. No wonder that the love of the Father and the grace of the Son do not accomplish more, when the fellowship of the Holy Spirit is little understood or sought or accepted. The Holy Spirit is the fruit and crown of the Divine Revelation, through whom the Son and the Father come to us. If you would know God, if you would be holy, you must be taught and led of the Spirit. 4. As often as you worship the Thrice Holy One, hearken if no voice be heard: Whom shall I send, and who will go for us? Let the answer rise, Here am I, send me, and offer yourself to be _a messenger of the holiness of God_ to those around you. 5. When in meditation and worship you have sought to take in and express what God's word has taught, then comes the time for confessing how you know nothing, and for waiting on God _to reveal Himself_. [6] The Divine necessity and meaning of the doctrine of the Trinity is seen from the counterpart we have of it in nature. In every living object that exists we distinguish first _the life_, then _the form_ or _shape_ in which that life manifests itself, then _the power_ or _effect_ as seen in the result which the life acting in its form or manifestation produces. And so we have God as the Unseen One, the Fountain of life; the Son as the Form or Image of God, the manifestation of the Unseen Life; and the Holy Spirit as the Power of that life proceeding from the Father and the Son, and working out the purpose of God's will in the Church. Applying this thought to God as the Holy One, we shall understand better the place of the Son and the Spirit as they bring to us the Holiness of God. Thirteenth Day. HOLY IN CHRIST. Holiness and Humility. 'Thus saith the High and Lofty One that inhabiteth eternity, whose name is _Holy_: I dwell in the High and _Holy_ place, with him that is of a contrite and humble spirit, to revive the spirit of the humble, and to revive the heart of the contrite ones.'--Isa. lvii. 15. Very wonderful is the revelation we have in Isaiah of God, the Holy One, as the Redeemer and the Saviour of His people. In the midst of the people whom He created and formed for Himself, He will as the Holy One dwell, showing forth His power and His glory, filling them with joy and gladness. All these promises have, however, reference to the people as a whole. Our text to-day reveals a new and specially beautiful feature of the Divine Holiness in its relation to the individual. The High and Lofty One, whose name is Holy, and whose only fit dwelling-place is eternity, He looks to the man who is of a humble and contrite heart; with him will He dwell. God's Holiness is His condescending Love. As it is a consuming fire against all who exalt themselves before Him, it is to the spirit of the humble like the shining of the sun, heart-reviving and life-giving. The deep significance of this promise comes out clearly when we connect it with the other promises of New Testament times. The great feature of the New Covenant, in its superiority to the old, is this, that whereas in the law and its institution all was external, in the New the kingdom of God would be within. God's laws given and written into the heart, a new spirit put within us, God's own Spirit given to dwell within our spirit, and so the heart and the inner life fitted to be the temple and home of God; it is this constitutes the peculiar privilege of the ministration of the Spirit. Our text is perhaps the only one in the Old Testament in which this indwelling of the Holy One, not among the people only, but in the heart of the individual believer, is clearly brought out. In this the two aspects of the Divine Holiness would reach their full manifestation: I dwell in the High and Holy place, and with him also that is of a contrite and humble spirit. In His heaven above, the high and lofty place, and in our heart, contrite and humble, God has His home. God's Holiness is His glory that separates Him by an infinite distance, not only from sin, but even from the creature, lifting Him high above it. God's Holiness is His Love, drawing Him down to the sinner, that He may lift him into His fellowship and likeness, and make him holy as He is holy. The Holy One seeks the humble; the humble find the Holy One: such are the two lessons we have to learn to-day. _The Holy One seeks the humble._ There is nothing that has such an attraction for God, that has such affinity with holiness, as a contrite and humble spirit. The reason is evident. There is no law in the natural and the spiritual world more simple, than that two bodies cannot at the same moment occupy the same space. Only so much as the new occupant can expel of what the space was filled with can it really possess. In man, self has possession, and self-will the mastery, and there is no room for God. It is simply impossible for God to dwell or rule when self is on the throne. As long as, through the blinding influence of sin and self-love, even the believer is not truly conscious of the extent to which this self-will reigns, there can be no true contrition or humility. But as it is discovered by God's Spirit, and the soul sees how it has just been self that has been secretly keeping out God, with what shame it is broken down, and how it longs to break utterly away from self, that God may have His place! It is this brokenness, and continued breaking down, that is expressed by the word contrition. And as the soul sees what folly and guilt it has been, by its secret honouring of self, to keep the Holy One from the place which He alone has a right to, and which He would so blessedly have filled, it casts itself down in utter self-abasement, with the one desire to be nothing, and to give God the place and the praise that is His due. Such breaking down and humiliation is painful. Its intense reality consists in this, that the soul can see nothing in itself to trust or hope in. And least of all can it imagine that it should be an object of Divine complacency, or a fit vessel for the Divine blessing. And yet just this is the message which the Word of the Lord brings to our faith. It tells us that the Holy One, who dwells in the High and Lofty place, is seeking and preparing for Himself a dwelling here on this earth. It tells us, just what the truly contrite and humble never could imagine, and even now can hardly believe, that it is even, that it is only, with such that He will dwell. These are they in whom God can be glorified, in whom there is room for Him to take the place of self and to fill the emptied place with Himself. The Holy One seeks the humble. Just when we see that there is nothing in us to admire or rest in, God sees in us everything to admire and to rest in, because there is room for Himself. The lowly one is the home of the Holy One. _The humble find the Holy One._ Just when the consciousness of sin and weakness, and the discovery of how much of self there is, makes you fear that you can never be holy, the Holy One gives Himself. Not as you look at self, and seek to know whether now you are contrite and humble enough--no, but when no longer looking at self, because you have given up all hope of seeing anything in it but sin, you look up to the Holy One, you will see how His promise is your only hope. It is in faith that the Holy One is revealed to the contrite soul. Faith is ever the opposite of what we see and feel; it looks to God alone. And it believes that in its deepest consciousness of unholiness, and its fear that it never can be holy, God, the Holy One, who makes holy, is near as Redeemer and Saviour. And it is content to be low, in the consciousness of unworthiness and emptiness, and yet to rejoice in the assurance that God Himself does take possession and revive the heart of the contrite one. Happy the soul who is willing at once to learn the lesson that, all along, it is going to be the simultaneous experience of weakness and power, of emptiness and filling, of deep, real humiliation, and the as real and most wonderful indwelling of the Holy One. This is indeed the deep mystery of the Divine life. To human reason it is a paradox. When Paul says of himself, 'as dying, and behold we live; as sorrowful, yet always rejoicing; as having nothing, yet possessing all things,' he only gives expression to the law of the kingdom, that as self is displaced and man becomes nothing, God will become all. Side by side with deepest sense of nothingness and weakness, the sense of infinite riches and the joy unspeakable can fill the heart. However deep and blessed the experience becomes of the nearness, the blessing, the love, the actual indwelling of the Holy One, it is never an indwelling in the old self; it is ever a Divine Presence humbling self to make place for God alone to be exalted. The power of Christ's death, the fellowship of His cross, works each moment side by side with the power and the joy of His resurrection. 'He that humbleth himself shall be exalted;' in the blessed life of faith the humiliation and the exaltation are simultaneous, each dependent on the other. The humble find the Holy One; and when they have found, the possession only humbles all the more. Not that there is no danger or temptation of the flesh exalting itself in the possession, but, once knowing the danger, the humble soul seeks for grace to fear continually, with a fear that only clings more firmly to God alone. Never for a moment imagine that you attain a state in which self or the flesh are absolutely dead. No; by faith you enter into and abide in a fellowship with Jesus, in whom they are crucified; abiding in Him, you are free from their power, but only as you believe, and, in believing, have gone out of self and dwell in Jesus. Therefore, the more abundant God's grace becomes, and the more blessed the indwelling of the Holy One, keep so much the lower. Your danger is greater, but your Help is now nearer: be content in trembling to confess the danger, it will make you bold in faith to claim the victory. Believers, who profess to be nothing, and to trust in grace alone, I pray you, do listen to the wondrous message. The High and Lofty One, whose name is Holy, and who dwells in the Holy Place, and who can dwell nowhere but in a Holy Place, seeks a dwelling here on earth. Will you give it Him? Will you not fall down in the dust, that He may find in you the humble heart He loves to dwell in? Will you not now believe that even in you, however low and broken you feel, He doth delight to make His dwelling? 'Blessed are the poor in spirit: for theirs is the Kingdom;' with them the King dwells. Oh, this is the path to holiness! be humble, and the holy nearness and presence of God in you will be your holiness. As you hear the command, Be holy, as I am holy, let faith claim the promise, and answer, I will be holy, O Most Holy God! if Thou, the Holy One, wilt dwell with me. BE HOLY, AS I AM HOLY. O Lord! Thou art the High and Lofty One, whose Name is Holy. And yet Thou speakest, 'I dwell in the high and holy place, and with him that is of a contrite and humble spirit.' Yes, Lord! when the soul takes the low place, and has low thoughts of itself, that it feels it is nothing, Thou dost love to come and comfort, to dwell with it and revive it. O my God! my creature nothingness humbles me; my many transgressions humble me; my innate sinfulness humbles me; but this humbles me most of all, Thine infinite condescension, and the ineffable indwelling Thou dost vouchsafe. It is Thy Holiness, in Christ bearing our sin, Thy Holy Love bearing with our sin, and consenting to dwell in us; O God! it is this love that passeth knowledge that humbles me. I do beseech Thee, let it do its work, until self hides its head and flees away at the presence of Thy glory, and Thou alone art all. Holy Lord God! I pray Thee to humble me. Didst Thou not of old meet Thy servants, and show Thyself unto them until they fell upon their faces and feared? Thou knowest, my God! I have no humility which I can bring Thee. In my blessed Saviour, who humbled Himself in the form of a servant, and unto the death of the cross, I hide myself. In Him, in His spirit and likeness, I would live before Thee. Work Thou it in me, by the Holy Spirit dwelling in me, and as I am dead to self in Him, and His cross makes me nothing, let Thy holy indwelling revive and quicken me. Amen. 1. Lowliness and holiness. Keep fast hold of the intimate connection. Lowliness is taking the place that becomes me; holiness, giving God the place that becomes Him. If I be nothing before Him, and God be all to me, I am in the sure path of holiness. Lowliness is holiness, because it gives all the glory to God. 2. 'Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.' These first words of the Master when He opened His lips to proclaim the Kingdom, are often the last in the hearts of His disciples. 'The Kingdom is in the Holy Ghost:' to the poor in spirit, those who know they have nothing that is really spiritual, the Holy Spirit comes to be their life. The poor in spirit are the Kingdom of the Saints: in them the Holy Spirit reveals the King. 3. Many strive hard to be humble with God, but with men they maintain their rights, and nourish self. Remember that the great school of humility before God, is to accept the humbling of man. Christ sanctified Himself in accepting the humiliation and injustice which evil men laid upon Him. 4. Humility never sees its own beauty, because it refuses to look to itself: It only wonders at the condescension of the Holy God, and rejoices in the humility of Jesus, God's Holy One, our Holy One. 5. The link between holiness and humility is indwelling. The Lofty One, whose name is Holy, _dwells_ with the contrite one. And where He dwells is _the Holy Place_. Fourteenth Day. HOLY IN CHRIST. The Holy One of God. 'Therefore also that _holy_ thing which shall be born of thee shall be called the Son of God.'--Luke i. 35. 'We have believed and know that Thou art _the Holy One of God_.'--John vi. 69. 'The holy one of the Lord'--only once (Ps. cvi. 16) the expression is found in the Old Testament. It is spoken of Aaron, in whom holiness, as far as it could then be revealed, had found its most complete embodiment. The title waited for its fulfilment in Him who alone, in His own person, could perfectly show forth the holiness of God on earth--Jesus the Son of the Father. In Him we see holiness, as Divine, as human, as our very own. 1. In Him we see wherein that Incomparable Excellence of the Divine Nature consists. 'Thou lovest righteousness, and hatest iniquity, therefore God, even Thy God, hath anointed Thee with the oil of gladness above Thy fellows.' God's infinite hatred of sin, and His maintenance of the Right, might appear to have little moral worth, as being a necessity of His nature. In the Son we see Divine Holiness tested. He is tried and tempted. He suffers, being tempted. He proves that Holiness has indeed a moral worth: it is ready to make any sacrifice, yea to give up life and cease to be, rather than consent to sin. In giving Himself to die, rather than yield to the temptation of sin; in giving Himself to die, that the Father's righteous judgment may be honoured; Jesus proved how Righteousness is an element of the Divine Holiness, and how the Holy One is sanctified in Righteousness. But this is only one side of Holiness. The fire that consumes also purifies: it makes partakers of its own beautiful Light-nature all that is capable of assimilation. So Divine Holiness not only maintains its own purity; it communicates it too. Herein was Jesus indeed seen to be the Holy One of God, that He never said, 'Stand by, for I am holier than thou.' His holiness proved itself to be the very incarnation of Him who had spoken, 'Thus saith the High and Lofty One, whose Name is Holy: I dwell in the High and Holy place, and with him who is of a contrite spirit.' In Him was seen the affinity holiness has for all that is lost and helpless and sinful. He proved that holiness is not only the energy which in holy anger separates itself from all that is impure, but which in holy love separates to itself even what is most sinful, to save and to bless. In Him we see how the Divine Holiness is the harmony of Infinite Righteousness with Infinite Love. 2. Such is the Divine aspect of the character of Christ, as He shows in human form what God's Holiness is. But there is another aspect, to us no less interesting and important. We not only want to know how God is holy, but how man must act to be holy as God is holy. Jesus came to teach us that it is possible to be men, and yet to have the life of God dwelling in us. We ordinarily think that the glory and the infinite Perfection of Deity are the proper setting in which the beauty of holiness is to be seen: Jesus proved the perfect adaptation and suitability of human nature for showing forth that which is the essential glory of Deity. He showed us how, in choosing and doing the will of God, and making it his own will, man may truly be holy as God is holy. The value of this aspect of the Incarnation depends upon our realizing intensely the true humanity of our Lord. The awful separating and purifying process that is ever being carried on in the fiery furnace of the Divine Holiness, ever consuming and ever assimilating, we expect to see in Him in the struggles of a truly human will. Holiness, to be truly human, must not only be a gift, but an acquirement. Coming from God, it must be accepted and personally appropriated, in the voluntary surrender of all that is not in accordance with it. In Jesus, as He distinctly gave up His own will, and did and suffered the Father's will, we have the revelation of what human holiness is, and how truly man, through the unity of will, can be holy as God is holy. 3. But what avails that we have seen in Jesus that a man can be holy? His example were indeed a mockery if He show us not the way, and give us not the power, to become like Himself. To bring us this, was indeed the supreme object of the Incarnation. The Divine nature of Christ did not simply make _His_ humanity partaker of its holiness, leaving Him still nothing more than an individual man. His Divinity gave the human holiness He wrought out, the holy human nature which He perfected, an infinite value and power of communication. With Him a new life, the Eternal Life, was grafted into the stem of humanity. For all who believe in Him, He sanctified Himself, that they themselves might also be sanctified in truth. Because His death was the great triumph of His obedience to the will of the Father, it broke for ever the dominion of sin, it atoned for our guilt, and won for Him from the Father the power to make His people partakers of His own life and holiness. In His Resurrection and Ascension the power of the New Life, and its right to universal dominion, were made manifest, and He is now in full truth the Holy One of God, holding in Himself as Head the power of a Holiness, at once Divine and human, to communicate to every member of His body. THE HOLY ONE OF GOD! in a fulness of meaning that passeth knowledge, in spirit and in truth, Jesus now bears this title. He is now the One Holy One whom God sees, of such an infinite compass and power of holiness, that He can be holiness to each of His brethren. And even as He is to God the Holy One, in whom He delights, and for whose sake He delights in all who are in Him, so Christ may now be to us too the One Holy One in whom we delight, in whom the Holiness of God is become ours. 'We have believed and know that Thou art _the Holy One of God_,'--blessed they who can say this, and know themselves to be holy in Christ. In speaking of the mystery of the Holy Trinity, we saw how Christ stands midway between the Father and the Spirit, as the point of union in which they meet. In the Son, 'the very image of His substance' (Heb. i. 3), we have the objective revelation of Deity, the Divine Holiness embodied and brought nigh. In the Holy Spirit we have the same revelation subjectively, _the Divine Holiness entering our inmost being and revealing itself there_. The work of the Holy Spirit is to reveal and glorify Christ as the Holy One of God, as He takes of His Holiness and makes it ours. He shows us how all is in Christ; how Christ is all for us; how we are in Christ; and how, as a living Saviour, Christ through His Spirit takes and keeps charge of us and our life of holiness. He makes Christ indeed to be to us _the Holy One of God_. My Brother! wouldst thou be holy, wouldst thou know God's way of holiness--learn to know Christ as the Holy One of God. Thou art _in Him_, 'holy in Christ.' Thou hast been placed, by an act of Divine Power, in Christ, and that same Power keeps thee there, planted and rooted in that Divine fulness of life and holiness which there is in Him. His Holy Presence, and the power of His eternal life, surround thee: let the Holy Spirit reveal this to thee. The Holy Spirit is within thee as the power of Christ and His life. Secretly, silently, but mightily, if thou wilt look to the Father for His working, will He strengthen the faith that thou art in Christ, and that the Divine life, which thus encircles thee on every side, will enter in and take possession of thee. Study and pray to believe and realize that it is in Christ as the Holy One of God, in Christ in whom the Holiness of God is prepared for thee as a holy nature and holy living, that thou art, and that thou mayest abide. And then remember, also, that this Christ is thy Saviour, the most patient and compassionate of teachers. Study holiness in the light of His countenance, looking up into His face. _He came from heaven for the very purpose of making thee holy._ His love and power are more than thy slowness and sinfulness. Do learn to think of holiness as the inheritance prepared for thee, as the power of a new life which Jesus waits and lives to dispense. Just think of it as all in Him, and of its possession as being dependent upon the possession of Himself. And as the disciples, though they scarce understood what they confessed, or knew whither the Lord was leading them, became His saints, His holy ones, in virtue of their intense attachment to Him, so wilt thou find that to love Jesus fervently, and obey Him simply, is the sure path to holiness and the fulness of the Holy Spirit. BE YE HOLY, AS I AM HOLY. Most Holy Lord God! I do bless Thee that Thy beloved Son, whom Thou didst sanctify and send into the world, is now to us _the Holy One of God_. I beseech Thee that my inner life may so be enlightened by the Spirit that I may in faith fully know what this means. May I know Him as the revelation of Thy Holiness, the incarnation in human nature, even unto the death, of Thine infinite and unconquerable hatred of sin, as of Thy amazing love to the sinner. May my soul be filled with great fear and trust of Thee. May I know Him as the exhibition of the Holiness in which we are now to walk before Thee. He lived in Thy holy will. May I know Him as He wrought out that holiness, to be communicated to us in a new human nature, making it possible for us to live a holy life. May I know Him as Thou hast placed me in Him in heaven, holy in Christ, and as I may abide in Him by faith. May I know Him, as He dwells in me, the Holy One of God on the throne of my heart, breathing His Holy Spirit and maintaining His holy rule. So shall I live holy in Christ. O my Father! it pleased Thee that in Thy Son should all the fulness dwell. In Him are hid all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge; in Him dwell the unsearchable riches of grace and holiness. I beseech Thee, reveal Him to me, reveal Him in me, that I may not have to satisfy myself with thoughts and desires, without the reality, but that in the power of an endless life I may know Him, and be known of Him, the Holy One of God. Amen. 1. In the holiness of Jesus we see what ours must be: righteousness, that hates sin and gives everything to have it destroyed; love, that seeks the sinner and gives everything to have him saved. 'Whosoever doeth not righteousness is not of God, neither he that loveth not his brother.' 2. It is a solemn thought that we may be studying earnestly to know what holiness is, and yet have little of it, because we have little of Jesus. It is a blessed thought that a man may directly be little occupied with the thought of holiness, and yet have much of it, because he is full of Jesus. 3. We need the whole of what God teaches in His Word in regard to holiness in all its different aspects. We need still more to be ever returning to the living centre where God imparts holiness. Jesus is _the Holy One of God_: to have _Him_ truly, to love _Him_ fervently, to trust and obey _Him_, to be _in Him_--this makes us holy. 4. Your holiness is thus treasured up in this Divine, Almighty, and most gentle Saviour--surely there need to be no fear that He will not be ready or able to make you holy. 5. With such a Sanctifier, how comes it that so many seekers after holiness fail so sadly, and know so little of the joy of a holy life? I am sure it is with very many this one thing: they seek to grasp and hold this Christ in their own strength, and know not how it is the Holy Spirit within them who must be waited for to reveal this Divine Being, the Holy One of God, in their hearts. Fifteenth Day. HOLY IN CHRIST. The Holy Spirit. 'But this spake He of the Spirit, which they that believed on Him were to receive: for _the Holy Spirit_ was not yet: because Jesus was not yet glorified.'--John vii. 39. 'The Comforter, even _the Holy Spirit_, whom the Father will send in my name, He shall teach you all things.'--John xiv. 26. 'God chose you to salvation _in sanctification of the Spirit_, and belief of the truth.'--2 Thess. ii. 13. (See 1 Pet. i. 2.) It has sometimes been said, that while the Holiness of God stands out more prominently in the Old Testament, in the New it has to give way to the revelation of His love. The remark could hardly be made if it were fully realized that the Spirit is God, and that when He takes up the epithet Holy as His own proper name, it is to teach us that now the Holiness of God is to come nearer than ever, and to be specially revealed as the power that makes us holy. In the Holy Spirit, God the Holy One of Israel, and He who was the Holy One of God, come nigh for the fulfilment of the promise, 'I am the Lord that make you holy.' The unseen and unapproachable holiness of God had been revealed and brought near in the life of Christ Jesus; all that hindered our participation in it had been removed by His death. The name of Holy Spirit teaches us that it is specially the Spirit's work to impart it to us and make it our own. Try and realize the meaning of this; the epithet that through the whole Old Testament has belonged to the Holy God, is now appropriated to that Spirit which is within you. The Holiness of God in Christ becomes holiness _in you_, because this Spirit is in you. The words, and the Divine realities the words express, _Holy_ and _Spirit_, are now inseparably and eternally united. You can only have as much of the Spirit as you are willing to have of holiness. You can only have as much holiness as you have of the indwelling Spirit. There are some who pray for the Spirit because they long to have His light and joy and strength. And yet their prayers bring little increase of blessing or power. It is because they do not rightly know or desire Him as the _Holy_ Spirit. His burning purity, His searching and convicting light, His making dead of the deeds of the body, of self with its will and its power, His leading into the fellowship of Jesus as He gave up His will and His life to the Father,--of all this they have not thought. The Spirit cannot work in power in them because they receive Him not as the _Holy_ Spirit, in _sanctification_ of the Spirit. At times, in seasons of revival, as among the Corinthians and Galatians, He may indeed come with His gifts and mighty workings, while His sanctifying power is but little manifest. (1 Cor. xiv. 4, xiii. 8, iii. 1-3; Gal. iii. 3, v. 15-26.) But unless that sanctifying power be acknowledged and accepted, His gifts will be lost. His gifts coming on us are but meant to prepare the way for the sanctifying power within us. We must take the lesson to heart; we can have as much of the Spirit as we are willing to have of His Holiness. Be full of the Spirit, must mean to us, Be fully holy. The converse is equally true. We can only have so much holiness as we have of the Spirit. Some souls do very earnestly seek to be holy, but it is very much in their own strength. They will read books and listen to addresses most earnestly; they will use every effort to lay hold of every thought, and act out every advice. And yet they must confess that they are still very much strangers to the true, deep rest and joy and power of abiding in Christ, and being holy in Him. They sought for holiness more than for the Spirit. They must learn how even all the holiness which is so near and clear in Christ, is beyond our reach, except as the Holy Spirit dwells within and imparts it. They must learn to pray for Him and His mighty strengthening (Eph. iii. 16), to believe for Him (John iv. 14, vii. 37), in faith to yield to Him as indwelling (1 Cor. iii. 14, vi. 19). They must learn to cease from self-effort in thinking and believing, in willing and in running; to hope in God, and wait patiently for Him. He will by His Holy Spirit make us holy. Be holy means, Be filled with the Spirit. If we inquire more closely how it is that this Holy Spirit makes holy, the answer is,--He reveals and imparts the Holiness of Christ. Scripture tells us: Christ is made unto us sanctification. He sanctified Himself for us, that we ourselves might also be sanctified in truth. We have been sanctified through the offering of the body of Jesus Christ once for all. We are sanctified in Christ Jesus. The whole living Christ is just a treasury of holiness for man. In His life on earth He exchanged the Divine Holiness He possessed into the current coin needed for this human earthly life, obedience to the Father, and humility, and love, and zeal. As God, He has a sufficiency of it for every moment of the life of every believer. And yet, it is all beyond our reach, except as the Holy Spirit brings it to us and inwardly communicates it. But this is the very work for which He bears the Divine Name, the _Holy_ Spirit, to glorify Jesus, the Holy One of God, within us, and so make us partakers of His Holiness. He does it by revealing Christ, so that we begin to see what is in Him. He does it by discovering the deep unholiness of our nature (Rom. vii. 14-23). He does it by mightily strengthening us to believe, to receive Jesus Himself as our life. He does it by leading us to utter despair of self, to absolute surrender of obedience to Jesus as Lord, to the assured confidence of faith in the power of an indwelling Christ. He does it by, in the secret silent depths of the heart and life, imparting the dispositions and graces of Christ, so that from the inner centre of our life, which has been renewed and sanctified in Christ, holiness should flow out and pervade all to the utmost circumference. Where the desire has once been awakened, and the delight in the law of God after the inward man been created, there, as the Spirit of this life in Christ Jesus, He makes free from the law of sin and death in the members, he leads into the glorious liberty of the sons of God. As God within us, He communicates what God in Christ has prepared. And if we ask once more how the working of this Holy Spirit, who thus makes holy, is to be secured, the answer is very simple and clear. He is the Spirit of the Holy Father, and of Christ, the Holy One of God: from them He must be received. 'He showed me a river of water of life proceeding out of the throne of God and the Lamb.' Jesus speaks of 'the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in my Name.' He taught us to ask the Father. Paul prays for the Ephesians: 'I bow my knees to the Father, that He may grant unto you, according to the riches of His glory, that ye may be strengthened with might by His Spirit in the inner man.' It is as we look to God in His Holiness, and all its revelation from Creation downward, and see how the Spirit now flows out from the throne of His Holiness as the water of life, that our hope will be awakened that God will give Him to work mightily in us. And as we then see Jesus revealing that holiness in human nature, rending the veil in His atoning death, that the Spirit from the Holiest of all may come forth and, as the Holy Spirit, be His representative, making Him present within us, we shall become confident that faith in Jesus will bring the fulness of the Spirit. As He told us to ask the Father, He told us to believe in Himself. 'He that believeth in me, rivers of living water shall flow out of him.' Let us bow to the Father in the name of Christ, His Son; let us believe very simply in the Son as Him in whom we are well-pleasing to the Father, and through whom the Father's love and blessing reach us, and we may be sure the Spirit, who is already within us, will, as the Holy Spirit, do His work in ever-increasing power. The mystery of holiness is the mystery of the Trinity: as we bow to the Father, believing in the Son, the Holy Spirit will work. And we shall see the true meaning of what God spake in Israel: '_I am holy_,' thus speaks the Father; '_Be holy_,' as my Son and in my Son; '_I make holy_,' through the Spirit of my Son dwelling in you. Let our souls worship and cry out, 'Holy, holy, holy is the Lord God of hosts.' The Holy Spirit. All true knowledge of the Father in His adorable Holiness, and of the Son in His, which is meant to be ours, and all participation of it, depend upon our life in the Spirit, upon our knowing and owning Him as abiding in us as our Life. Oh, what can it be that, with such a Thrice Holy God, His Holiness does not more cover His Church and children? The Holy Spirit is among us, is in us: it must be we grieve and resist Him. If _you_ would not do so, at once bow the knee to the Father, that He may grant you the Spirit's mighty workings in the inner man. Believe that the Holy Spirit, bearer to you of all the Holiness of God and of Jesus, is indeed in you. Let Him take the place of self, with its thoughts and efforts. Set your soul still before God in holy silence, for Him to give you wisdom; rest, in emptiness and poverty of spirit, in the faith that He will work in His own way. As Divine as is the holiness that Jesus brings, so Divine is the power in which the Holy Spirit communicates it. Yield yourself day by day in growing dependence and obedience, to wait on and be led of Him. Let the fear of the Holy One be on you: sanctify the Lord God in your heart: let Him be your fear and dread. Fear not only sin: fear above all self, as it thrusts itself in before God with its service. Let self die, in refusing and denying its work: let the Holy Spirit, in quietness, and dependence, in the surrender of obedience and trust, have the rule, the free disposal of every faculty. Wait for Him--He can, He will in power reveal and impart the Holiness of the Father and the Son.[7] BE HOLY, AS I AM HOLY. Holy, holy, holy, Lord God of hosts! the whole earth is full of Thy glory! Let that glory fill the heart of Thy child, as he bows before Thee. I come now to drink of the river of the water of life that flows from under the throne of God and of the Lamb. Glory be to God and to the Lamb for the gift that hath not entered into the heart of man to conceive--the gift of the Holy indwelling Spirit. O my Father! in the name of Jesus I ask Thee that I may be strengthened with might by Thy Spirit in the inner man. Teach me, I pray Thee, to believe that Thou hast given Him, to accept and expect Him to fill and rule my whole inner being. Teach me to give up to Him; not to will or to run, not to think or to work in my strength, but in quiet confidence to wait and to know that He works in me. Teach me what it is to have no confidence in the flesh, and to serve Thee in the Spirit. Teach me what it is in all things to be led by Thy Holy Spirit, the Spirit of Thy Holiness. And grant, gracious Father, that through Him I may hear Thee speak and reveal Thyself to me in power: I AM HOLY. May He glorify to me and in me, Jesus, in whom Thy command 'BE HOLY' hath been so blessedly fulfilled on my behalf. And let the Holy Spirit give me the anointing and the sealing which bring the perfect assurance that in Him Thy promise is being gloriously fulfilled, 'I MAKE YOU HOLY.' Amen. 1. It it universally admitted that the Holy Spirit has not, in the teaching of the Church or the faith of believers, that place of honour and power, which becomes Him as the Revealer of the Father and the Son. Seek a deep conviction that without the Holy Spirit the clearest teaching on holiness, the most fervent desires, the most blessed experiences even, will only be temporary, will produce no permanent result, will bring no abiding rest. 2. The Holy Spirit dwells within, and works within, in the hidden deep of your nature. Seek above everything the clear and habitual assurance that He is within you, doing His work. 3. To this end, deny self and its work in serving God. Your own power to think and pray and believe and strive--lay it all down expressly and distinctly in God's presence; claim, accept, and believe in the hidden workings of the indwelling Spirit. 4. As the Son ever spake of the Father, so the Spirit ever points to Christ. The soul that yields itself to the Spirit will of Him learn to know how Christ is our holiness, how we can always abide in Christ our Sanctification. What a vain effort it has often been without the Spirit! '_As the anointing taught you_, ye abide in Him.' 5. In the temple of thine heart, beloved believer, there is a secret place, within the veil, where dwells, often all unknown, the Spirit of God. Do bow in deep reverence before the Father, and ask that He may work mightily. Expect the Spirit to do His work: He will make Thy inner man a fit home, Thy heart a throne, for Jesus, and reveal Him there. [7] I cannot say how deeply I feel that one of the great wants of believers is that they do not _know_ the Holy Spirit, who is within them, and thereby lose the blessed life He would work in them. If it please God, I hope that the next volume of this series may be on _The Spirit of Christ_. May the Father give me a message that shall help His children to know what the Holy Spirit can be to them. Sixteenth Day. HOLY IN CHRIST. Holiness and Truth. '_Make them holy_ in _the Truth_: Thy word is _Truth_.'--John xvii. 17. 'God chose you unto salvation in _sanctification_ and belief of _the Truth_.'--2 Thess. ii. 12. The chief means of sanctification that God uses is His word. And yet how much there is of reading and studying, of teaching and preaching the word, that has almost no effect in making men holy. It is not the word that sanctifies; it is God Himself who alone can sanctify. Nor is it simply through the word that God does it, but through the Truth which is in the word. As a means the word is of unspeakable value, as the vessel which contains the truth, if God use it; as a means it is of no value, if God does not use it. Let us strive to connect God's Holy Word with the Holy God Himself. God sanctifies in the Truth through His word. Jesus had just said, 'The words which Thou gavest me, I have given them.' Let us try and realize what that means. Think of that great transaction in eternity: the Infinite Being, whom we call God, _giving His words_ to His Son; in His words opening up His heart, communicating His mind and will, revealing Himself and all His purpose and love. In a Divine power and reality passing all conception, God gave Christ His words. In the same living power Christ gave them to His disciples, all full of a Divine life and energy to work in their hearts, as they were able to receive them. And just as in the words of a man on earth we expect to find all the wisdom or all the goodness there is in him, so the word of the Thrice Holy One is all alive with the Holiness of God. All the holy fire, alike of His burning zeal and His burning love, dwells in His words. And yet men can handle these words, and study them, and speak them, and be entire strangers to their holiness, or their power to make holy. It is God Himself, the Holy One, who must make holy through the word. Every seed, in which the life of a tree is contained, has around it a husk or shell, which protects and hides the inner life. Only where the seed finds a place in congenial soil, and the husk is burst and removed, can the seed germinate and grow up. And it is only where there is a heart in harmony with God's Holiness, longing for it, yielding itself to it, that the word will really make holy. It is the heart that is not content with the word, but seeks the Living, Holy One in the word, to which He will reveal the truth, and in it Himself. It is the word given to us by Christ as God gave it Him, and received by us as it was by Him, to rule and fill our life, which has power to make holy. But we must notice very specially how our Saviour says, Sanctify them, not in the word, but in the truth. Just as in man there is body, soul, and spirit, so in truth too. There is first _word-truth_; a man may have the correct form of words while he does not really apprehend the truth they contain. Then there is _thought-truth_; there may be a clear intellectual apprehension of truth without the experience of its power. The Bible speaks of truth as a living reality: this is the _life-truth_, in which the very Spirit of the truth we profess has entered and possessed our inner being. Christ calls Himself _the Truth_: He is said to be full of grace and truth. The Divine life and grace are in Him as an actually substantial existence and reality. He not only acts upon us by thoughts and motives, but communicates, as a _reality_, the eternal life He brought for us from the Father. The Holy Spirit is called the Spirit of Truth; what He imparts is all real and actual, the very substance of unseen things; He guides into the Truth, not thought-truth or doctrine only, but life-truth, the personal possession of the Truth as it is in Jesus. As the Spirit of Truth He is the Spirit of Holiness; the life of God, which is His Holiness, He brings to us as an actual possession. It is now of this living Truth, which dwells in the word, as the seed-life dwells in the husk, that Jesus says, 'Make them holy in the Truth: Thy word is Truth.' He would have us mark the intimate connection, as well as the wide difference, between the word and the truth. The connection is one willed by God and meant to be inseparable. 'Thy word is truth;' with God they are one. But not with man. Just as there were men in close contact and continual intercourse with Jesus, to whom He was only a man, and nothing more, so there are Christians who know and understand the word, and yet are strangers to its true spiritual power. They have the letter but not the spirit; the Truth comes to them in word but not in power. The word does not make them holy, because they hold it not in Spirit and in Truth. To others, on the contrary, who know what it is to receive the truth in the love of it, who yield themselves, in all their dealings with the word, to the Spirit of Truth who dwells in it and in them too, the word comes indeed as Truth, as a Divine reality, communicating and working what it speaks of. And it is of such a use of the word that the Saviour says, 'Make them holy in the truth: Thy word is truth.' As the words, which God gave Him, were all in the power of the eternal Life and Love and Will of God, the revelation and communication of the Father's purpose, as God's word was Truth to Him and in Him, so it can be in us. And as we thus receive it, we are made holy in the Truth. And what now are the lessons we have to learn here for the path of Holiness? The first is: Let us see to it that in all our intercourse with God's Blessed Word we rest content with nothing short of the experience of it, as truth of God, as spirit and as power. Jesus said, 'If ye abide in my word, ye shall know the truth.' No analysis can ever find or prove the life of a seed: plant it in its proper soil, and the growth will testify to the life. It is only as the word of God is received in the love of it, as it grows and works in us, that we can know its truth, can know that it is the Truth of God. It is as we live in the words of Jesus, in love and obedience, keeping and doing them, that the Truth from heaven, the Power of the Divine Life which there is in them, will unfold itself to us. Christ is the Truth; in Him the love and grace, the very life of God, has come to earth as a substantial existence, a Living, Mighty Power, something new that was never on earth before (John i. 17); let us yield ourselves to the Living Christ to possess us and to rule us as the Living Truth, then will God's word be Truth to us and in us. The Spirit of Christ is the Spirit of Truth; that actual heavenly reality of Divine life and love in Christ, the Truth, has a Spirit, who comes to communicate and impart it. Let us beware of trying to study or understand or take possession of God's word without that Spirit through whom the word was spoken of old; we shall find only the husk, the truth or thought and sentiment, very beautiful perhaps, but with no power to make us holy. We must have _the Spirit_ of the Truth within us. He will lead us _into_ the Truth; when we are in the Truth, God makes us holy in it and by it. The Truth must be in us, and we in it. God desires truth in the inward parts: we must be of the people of whom Christ says, 'If ye were of the truth,' 'he that is of the truth knoweth me.' In the lower sphere of daily life and conduct, of thought and action, there must be an intense love of truth, and a willingness to sacrifice everything for it; in the spiritual life, a deep hungering to have all our religion every day, every moment, stand fully in the truth of God. It is to the simple, humble, childlike spirit that the truth of the word will be unsealed and revealed. In such the Spirit of truth comes to dwell. In such, as they daily wait before the Holy One in silence and emptiness, in reverence and holy fear, His Holy Spirit works and gives the truth within. In thus imparting Christ as revealed in the word, in His Divine life and love, as their own life, He makes them holy with the holiness of Christ. There is another lesson. Listen to that prayer, the earthly echo of the prayer which He ever liveth to pray, 'Holy Father! make them holy in the truth.' Would you be holy, child of God? cast yourself into that mighty current of intercession ever flowing into, ever reaching, the Father's bosom. Let yourself be borne upon it until your whole soul cries, with the unutterable groanings, too deep and too intense for human speech, 'Holy Father! make me holy in the truth.' As you trust in Christ as the truth, the reality of what you long for, and in His all-prevailing intercession; as you wait for the Spirit within as the Spirit of truth; look up to the Father, and expect His own direct and almighty working to make you holy. The mystery of holiness is the mystery of the Triune One. The deeper entrance into the holy life rests in the fellowship of the Three in One. It is the Father who establishes us in Christ, who gives, in a daily fresh giving, the Holy Spirit; it is to the Father, the Holy Father, the soul must look up continually in the prayer, 'Make me holy in the truth.' It has been well said that in the word Holy we have the central thought of the high-priestly prayer. As the Father's attribute (John xvii. 11), as the Son's work for Himself and us (ver. 19), as the direct work of the Father through the Spirit (vers. 17, 20), it is the revelation of the glory of God in Himself and in us. Let us enter into the Holiest of all, and as we bow with our Great High Priest, let the deep, unceasing cry go up for all the Church of God, 'Holy Father! make them holy in the truth: Thy word is truth.' The word in which God makes holy is summed up in this, HOLY IN CHRIST. May God make it truth in us! BE YE HOLY, AS I AM HOLY. Blessed Father! to Israel Thou didst say, I the Lord am holy and make holy. But it is only in Thy beloved Son that the full glory of Thy Holiness, as making us holy, has been revealed. Thou art our Holy Father, who makest us holy in Thy truth. We thank Thee that Thy Son hath given us the words Thou gavest Him, and that as He received them from Thee in life and power, we may receive them too. O Father! with our whole heart we do receive them; let the Spirit make them truth and life within us. So shall we know Thee as the Holy One, consuming the sin, renewing the sinner. We bless Thee most for Thy Blessed Son, the Holy One of God, the Living Word in whom the Truth dwelleth. We thank Thee that in His never-ceasing intercession, this cry ever reacheth Thee, 'Father, sanctify them in Thy truth,' and that the answer is ever streaming forth from Thy glory. Holy Father! make us holy in Thy truth, in Thy wonderful revelation of Thyself in Him who is the truth. Let Thy Holy Spirit so have dominion in our hearts that Thy Holy Child Jesus, sanctifying Himself for us that we may be sanctified in the truth, may be to us the Way, the Truth, and the Life. May we know that we are in Him in Thy presence, and that Thy one word in answer to our prayer to make us holy is--Holy in Christ. Amen. 1. God is the God of truth--not truth in speaking only, or truth of doctrine--but truth of existence, or life in its Divine reality. And Christ is _the truth_; the actual embodiment of this Divine life. And there is a kingdom of truth, of Divine Spiritual realities, of which Christ is King. And of all this truth of God in Christ, the very essence is, the Spirit. He is the Spirit of truth: He leads us into it, so that we are of the truth and walk in it. Of the truth, the reality there is in God, Holiness, is the deepest root; the Spirit of _truth_ is the _Holy_ Spirit. 2. It is the work of _the Father_ to make us holy in the truth: let us bow very low in childlike trust as we breathe the prayer: 'Holy Father! make us holy in the truth.' _He will do it._ 3. It is the intercession of _the Son_ that asks and obtains this blessing: let us take our place _in Him_, and rejoice in the assurance of an answer. 4. It is _the Spirit of truth_ through whom the Father does this work, so that we dwell in the truth, and the truth in us. Let us yield very freely and very fully to the leading of the Spirit, in our intercourse with God's Word, that, as the Son prays, the Father may make us holy in the truth. 5. Let us, in the light of this work of the Three-One, never read the Word but with this aim: to be made holy in the truth by God. Seventeenth Day. HOLY IN CHRIST. Holiness and Crucifixion. 'For their sakes I _sanctify_ myself, that they themselves also may be _sanctified_ in truth.'--John xvii. 19. 'He said, Lo, I am come to do Thy will. In which will we have been _sanctified_ through the offering of the body of Jesus once for all. For by one offering He hath perfected for ever them that are _sanctified_.'--Heb. x. 9, 10, 14. It was in His High-priestly prayer, on His way to Gethsemane and Calvary, that Jesus thus spake to the Father: 'I sanctify myself.' He had not long before spoken of Himself as 'the Son whom the Father hath sanctified and sent into the world.' From the language of Holy Scripture we are familiar with the thought that, what God has sanctified, man has to sanctify too. The work of the Father, in sanctifying the Son, is the basis and groundwork of the work of the Son in sanctifying Himself. If His Holiness as man was to be a free and personal possession, accepted and assimilated in voluntary and conscious self-determination, it was not enough that the Father sanctify Him: He must sanctify Himself too. This self-sanctifying of our Lord found place through His whole life, but culminates and comes out in special distinctness in His crucifixion. Wherein it consists is made clear by the words from the Epistle to the Hebrews. The Messiah spake: 'Lo, I come to do Thy will.' And then it is added, 'In the which will we have been sanctified through the offering of the body of Christ.' It was the offering of the body of Christ that was the will of God: in doing that will He sanctified us. It was of the doing that will in the offering His body that He spake, 'I sanctify myself, that they themselves also may be sanctified in truth.' The giving up of His will to God's will in the agony of Gethsemane, and then the doing of that will in the obedience unto death, this was Christ's sanctifying Himself and us too. Let us try and understand this. The Holiness of God is revealed in His will. Holiness even in the Divine Being has no moral value except as it is freely willed. In speaking of the Trinity, theologians have pointed out how, as the Father represents the absolute necessity of Everlasting Goodness, the Son proves its liberty: within the Divine Being it is willed in love. And this now was the work of the Son on earth, amid the trials and temptations of a human life, to accept and hold fast at any sacrifice, with His whole heart to will, the will of the Father. 'Though He was a Son, yet He learned obedience in that He suffered.' In Gethsemane the conflict between the will of human nature and the Divine will reached its height: it manifests itself in language which almost makes us tremble for His sinlessness, as He speaks of His will in antithesis to God's will. But the struggle is a victory, because in presence of the clearest consciousness of what it means to have His own will, He gives it up, and says, 'Thy will be done.' To enter into the will of God He gives up His very life. In His crucifixion He thus reveals the law of sanctification. Holiness is the full entrance of our will into God's will. Or rather, Holiness is the entrance of God's will to be the death of our will. The only end of our will and deliverance from it, is death to it under the righteous judgment of God. It was in the surrender to the death of the cross that Christ sanctified Himself, and sanctified us, that we also might be sanctified in truth. And now, just as the Father sanctified Him, and He in virtue thereof appropriated it and sanctified Himself, so we, whom He has sanctified, have to appropriate it to ourselves. In no other way than crucifixion, the giving up of Himself to the death, could Christ realize the sanctification He had from the Father. And in no other way can we realize the sanctification we have in Him. His own and our sanctification bears the common stamp of the cross. We have seen before that obedience is the path to holiness. In Christ we see that the path to perfect holiness is perfect obedience. And that is obedience unto death, even to the giving up of life, even the death of the cross. As the sanctification which Christ wrought out for us, even unto the offering of His body, bears the death mark, we cannot partake of it, we cannot enter it, except as we die to self and its will. Crucifixion is the path to sanctification. This lesson is in harmony with all we have seen. The first revelation of God's Holiness to Moses was accompanied with the command, Put off. God's praise, as Glorious in Holiness, Fearful in Praises, was sounded over the dead bodies of the Egyptians. When Moses on Sinai was commanded to sanctify the Mount, it was said, 'If any touch it, man or beast, it shall not live.' The Holiness of God is death to all that is in contact with sin. Only through death, through blood-shedding, was there access to the Holiest of all. Christ chose death, even death as a curse, that He might sanctify Himself for us, and open to us the path to Holiness, to the Holiest of all, to the Holy One. And so it is still. No man can see God and live. It is only in death, the death of self and of nature, that we can draw near and behold God. Christ led the way. No man can see God and live. 'Then let me die, Lord,' one has cried, 'but see Thee I must.' Yes, blessed be God, so real is our interest in Christ and our union to Him, that we may live in His death; as day by day self is kept in the place of death, the life and the holiness of Christ can be ours.[8] And where is the place of death? And how can the crucifixion which leads to Holiness and to God be accomplished in us? Thank God! it is no work of our own, no weary process of self-crucifixion. The crucifixion that is to sanctify us is an accomplished fact. The cross bears the banner, 'It is finished.' On it Christ sanctified Himself for us, that we might be sanctified in truth. Our crucifixion, as our sanctification, is something that in Christ has been completely and perfectly finished. 'We have been sanctified through the offering of the body of Jesus Christ once for all.' 'By one offering He hath perfected for ever them that are sanctified.' In that fulness, which it is the Father's good pleasure should dwell in Christ, the crucifixion of our old man, of the flesh, of the world, of ourselves, is all a spiritual reality; he that desires and knows and accepts Christ, fully receives all this in Him. And as the Christ, who had previously been known more in His pardoning, quickening, and saving grace, is again sought after as a real deliverer from the power of sin, as a sanctifier, He comes and takes up the soul into the fellowship of the sacrifice of His will. 'He put away sin _by the sacrifice of Himself_,' must become true of us as it is of Him. He reveals how it is a part of His salvation to make us partakers of a will entirely given up to the will of God, of a life that had yielded itself to the death, and had then been given back from the dead by the power of God, a life of which the crucifixion of self-will was the spirit and the power. He reveals this, and the soul that sees it, and consents to it, and yields its will and its life, and believes in Jesus as its death and its life, and in His crucifixion as its possession and its inheritance, enters into the enjoyment and experience of it. The language is now, 'I died that I might live: I have been crucified with Christ, and it is no longer I that live, but Christ that liveth in me.' And the life it now lives is by the faith on the Son of God, the daily acceptance in faith of Him who lives within us in the power of a death that has been passed through and for ever finished. 'I sanctify myself for them, that they themselves also may be sanctified in truth.' 'I come to do Thy will, O God. In the which will,' the will of God accomplished by Christ, 'we have been sanctified through the one offering of the body of Christ.' Let us understand and hold it fast: Christ's giving up His will in Gethsemane and accepting God's will in dying; Christ's doing that will in the obedience to the death of the cross, this is His sanctifying Himself, and this is our being sanctified in truth. 'In the which will we have been sanctified.' The death to self, the utter and most absolute giving up of our own life, with its will and its power and its aims, to the cross, and into the crucifixion of Christ, the daily bearing the cross--not a cross on which we are yet to be crucified, but the cross of the crucified Christ in its power to kill and make dead--this is the secret of the life of holiness--this is true sanctification. Believer! is this the holiness which you are seeking? Have you seen and consented that God alone is holy, that self is all unholy, and that there is no way to be made holy but for the fire of the Divine Holiness to come in and be the death of self? 'Always bearing about in the body the dying of Jesus, that the life also of Jesus may be manifested in our mortal body'--is the pathway for each one who seeks to be sanctified in truth, even as He sanctified Himself; sanctified just like Jesus. He sanctified Himself for us, that we ourselves also might be sanctified in truth. Yes, our sanctification rests and roots in His, in Himself. And we are in Him. The secret roots of our being are planted into Jesus: deeper down than we can see or feel, there is He our Vine, bearing and quickening us. Let us by faith understand that, in a manner and a measure which are far beyond our comprehension, intensely Divine and real, we are in Him who sanctified Himself for us. Let us dwell there, where we have been placed of God. And let us bow our knees to the Father, that He would grant us to be mightily strengthened by His Spirit, that Christ as our Sanctification may dwell in our hearts, that the power of His death and His life may be revealed in us, and God's will be done in us as it was in Him. BE HOLY, FOR I AM HOLY. Holy Father! I do bless Thee for this precious blessed word, for this precious blessed work of Thy beloved Son. In His never-ceasing intercession Thou ever hearest the wonderful prayer, 'I sanctify myself for them, that they themselves also may be sanctified in truth.' Blessed Father! I beseech Thee to strengthen me mightily by Thy Spirit, that in living faith I may be able to accept and live the holiness prepared for me in my Lord Jesus. Give me spiritual understanding to know what it means that He sanctified Himself, that my sanctification is secured in His, that as by faith I abide in Him, its power will cover my whole life. Let His sanctification indeed be the law as it is the life of mine. Let His surrender to Thy fatherly will, His continual dependence and obedience, be its root and its strength. Let His death to the world and to sin be its daily rule. Above all, _let Himself_, O my Father! _let Himself_, as sanctified for me, the living Jesus, be my only trust and stay. He sanctified Himself for me, that I myself also may be sanctified in truth. Beloved Saviour! how shall I rightly bless and love and glorify Thee for this wondrous grace! Thou didst give Thyself, so that now I am holy in Thee. I give myself, that in Thee I myself may be made holy in truth. Amen. Lord Jesus! Amen. 1. 'If any man would come after me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross, and follow me.' Jesus means that our life shall be the exact counterpart of His, including even the crucifixion. The beginning of such a life is the denial of self, to give Christ its place. The Jews would not deny self, but '_denied_ the Holy One, and killed the Prince of Life.' The choice is still between Christ and self. Let us deny the unholy one, and give him to the death. 2. The steps in this path are these: First, the deliberate decision that self shall be given up to the death; then, the surrender to Christ crucified to make us partakers of His crucifixion; then, 'knowing that our old man is crucified,' the faith that says, 'I am crucified with Christ;' and then, the power to live as a crucified one, to glory in the cross of Christ. 3. This is God's way of holiness, a Divine mystery, which the Holy Spirit alone can daily maintain in us. Blessed be God, it is the life which a Christian can live, because Christ lives in us. 4. The central thought is: We are in Christ, who gave up His will and did the will of God. By the Holy Spirit the mind that was in Him is in us, the will of self is crucified, and we live in the will of God. [8] See Note D. Eighteenth Day. HOLY IN CHRIST. Holiness and Faith. 'That they may receive remission of sins, and an inheritance among them that are _sanctified by faith in me_.'--Acts xxvi. 18. The more we study Scripture in the light of the Holy Spirit, or practise the Christian life in His power, the deeper becomes our conviction of the unique and central place faith has in God's plan of salvation. And we learn, too, to see that it is meet and right that it should be so: the very nature of things demands it. Because God is a Spiritual and Invisible Being, every revelation of Himself, whether in His works, His word, or His Son, calls for faith. Faith is the spiritual sense of the soul, being to it what the senses are to the body; by it alone we enter into communication and contact with God. Faith is that meekness of soul which waits in stillness to hear, to understand, to accept what God says; to receive, to retain, to possess what God gives or works. By faith we allow, we welcome God Himself, the Living Person, to enter in to make His abode with us, to become our very life. However well we think we know it, we always have to learn the truth afresh, for a deeper and fuller application of it, that in the Christian life faith is the first thing, the one thing that pleases God, and brings blessing to us. And because Holiness is God's highest glory, and the highest blessing He has for us, it is especially in the life of holiness that we need to live by faith alone. Our Lord speaks here of 'them that are sanctified by faith in me.'[9] He Himself is our Sanctification as He is our Justification: for the one as for the other it is faith that God asks, and both are equally given at once. The participle used here is not the present, denoting a process or work that is being carried on, but the aorist, indicating an act done once for all. When we believe in Christ, we receive the whole Christ, our justification and our sanctification: we are at once accepted by God as righteous in Him, and as holy in Him. God counts and calls us, what we really are, sanctified ones in Christ. It is as we are led to see what God sees, as our faith grasps that the holy life of Christ is ours in actual possession, to be accepted and appropriated for daily use, that we shall really be able to live the life God calls us to, the life of holy ones in Christ Jesus. We shall then be in the right position in which what is called our progressive sanctification can be worked out. It will be, the acceptance and application in daily life of the power of a holy life which has been prepared in Jesus, which has in the union with Him become our present and permanent possession, and which works in us according to the measure of our faith.[10] From this point of view it is evident that faith has a twofold operation. Faith is the evidence of things not seen, though _now actually existing_, the substance of things hoped for, but _not yet present_. It deals with the unseen present, as well as with the unseen future. As the evidence of things not seen, it rejoices in Christ our complete sanctification, as a present possession. Through faith I simply look to what Christ is, as revealed in the Word by the Holy Spirit. Claiming all He is as my own, I know that His Holiness, His holy nature and life, are mine; I am a holy one: by faith in Him I have been sanctified. This is the first aspect of sanctification: it looks to what is a complete and finished thing, an absolute reality. As the substance of things hoped for, this faith reaches out in the assurance of hope to the future, to things I do not yet see or experience, and claims, day by day, out of Christ our sanctification, what it needs for practical holiness, 'to be holy in all manner of living.' This is the second aspect of sanctification: I depend upon Jesus to supply, in personal experience, gradually and unceasingly, for the need of each moment, what has been treasured up in His fulness. 'Of God are ye in Christ Jesus, who of God is made unto us sanctification.' Under its first aspect faith says, I know I am in Him, and all His Holiness is mine; in its second aspect it speaks, I trust in Him for the grace and the strength I need each moment to live a holy life. And yet, it need hardly be said, these two are one. It is one Jesus who is our sanctification, whether we look at it in the light of what He is made for us once for all, or what, as the fruit of that, He becomes to our experience day by day. And so it is one faith which, the more it studies and adores and rejoices in Jesus as made of God unto us sanctification, as Him in whom we have been sanctified, becomes the bolder to expect the fulfilment of every promise for daily life, and the stronger to claim the victory over every sin. Faith in Jesus is the secret of a holy life: all holy conduct, all really holy deeds, are the fruit of faith in Jesus as our holiness. We know how faith acts, and what its great hindrances are, in the matter of justification. It is well that we remind ourselves that there are the same dangers in the exercise of sanctifying as of justifying faith. Faith _in God_ stands opposed to trust _in self_: specially to its willing and working. Faith is hindered by every effort to do something ourselves. Faith looks to God working, and yields itself to His strength, as revealed in Christ through the Spirit; it allows God to work both to will and to do. Faith must work; without works it is dead, by works alone can it be perfected; in Jesus Christ, as Paul says, nothing avails but 'faith _working_ by love.' But these works, which faith in God's working inspires and performs, are very different from the works in which a believer often puts forth his best efforts, only to find that he fails. The true life of holiness, the life of them who are sanctified in Christ, has its root and its strength in an abiding sense of utter impotence, in the deep restfulness which trusts to the working of a Divine power and life, in the entire personal surrender to the loving Saviour, in that faith which consents to be nothing, that He may be all. It may appear impossible to discern or describe the difference between the working that is of self and the working that is of Christ through faith: if we but know that there is such a difference, if we learn to distrust ourselves, and to count on Christ working, the Holy Spirit will lead us into this secret of the Lord too. Faith's works are Christ's works. And as by effort, so faith is also hindered by the desire to see and feel. 'If thou believest, thou shalt see;' the Holy Spirit will seal our faith with a Divine experience; we shall see the glory of God. But this is His work: ours is, when all appears dark and cold, in the face of all that nature or experience testifies, still each moment to believe in Jesus as our all-sufficient sanctification, in whom we are perfected before God. Complaints as to want of feeling, as to weakness or deadness, seldom profit: it is the soul that refuses to occupy itself with itself, either with its own weakness or the strength of the enemy, but only looks to what Jesus is, and has promised to do, to whom progress in holiness will be a joyful march from victory to victory. 'The Lord Himself doth fight for you;' this thought, so often repeated in connection with Israel's possession of the promised land, is the food of faith: in conscious weakness, in presence of mighty enemies, it sings the conqueror's song. When God appears to be _not doing_ what we trusted Him for, then is just the time for faith to glory in Him. There is perhaps nothing that more reveals the true character of faith than joy and praise. You give a child the promise of a present to-morrow: at once it says, Thank you, and is glad. The joyful thanks are the proof of how really your promise has entered the heart. You are told by a friend of a rich legacy he has left you in his will: it may not come true for years, but even now it makes you glad. We have already seen what an element of holiness joy is: it is especially an element of holiness by faith. Each time I really see how beautiful and how perfect God's provision is, by which my holiness is in Jesus, and by which I am to allow Him to work in me, my heart ought to rise up in praise and thanks. Instead of allowing the thought that it is, after all, a life of such difficult attainment and such continual self-denial, this life of holiness through faith, we ought to praise Him exceedingly that He has made it possible and sure for us: we can be holy, because Jesus the Mighty and the Loving One is our holiness. Praise will express our faith; praise will prove it; praise will strengthen it. 'Then believed they His words; they sang His praise.' Praise will commit us to faith: we shall see that we have but one thing to do, to go on in a faith that ever trusts and ever praises. It is in a living, loving attachment to Jesus, that rejoices in Him, and praises Him continually for what He is to us, that faith proves itself, and receives the power of holiness. 'Sanctified by faith in me.' Yes, 'by faith _in Me_:' it is the personal living Jesus who offers Himself, Himself in all the riches of His Power and Love, as the object, the strength, the life of our faith. He tells us that if we would be holy, always and in everything holy, we must just see to one thing: to be always and altogether full of faith in Him. Faith is the eye of the soul: the power by which we discern the presence of the Unseen One, as He comes to give Himself to us. Faith not only sees, but appropriates and assimilates: let us set our souls very still for the Holy Spirit who dwells in us, to quicken and strengthen that faith, for which He has been given us. Faith is surrender: yielding ourselves to Jesus to allow Him to do His work in us, giving up ourselves to Him to live out His life and work out His will in us, we shall find Him giving Himself entirely _to us_, and taking complete possession. So faith will be power: the power of obedience to do God's will: 'our most holy faith,' 'the faith delivered to the holy ones.' And we shall understand how simple, to the single-hearted, is the secret of holiness: just Jesus. We are in Him, our Sanctification: He personally is our Holiness; and the life of faith in Him, that receives and possesses Him, must necessarily be a life of holiness. Jesus says, 'Sanctified by faith in me.' BE YE HOLY, AS I AM HOLY. Beloved Lord! again have I seen, with adoring wonder, what Thou art willing to be to me. It is in Thyself, and a life of living fellowship with Thyself, that I am to become holy. It is in the simple life of personal attachment, of trust and love, of surrender and consecration, that Thou dost become my all, and make me partaker of Thyself and Thy Holiness. Blessed Lord Jesus! I do believe in Thee, help Thou mine unbelief. I confess what still remains of unbelief, and count on Thy presence to conquer and cast it out. My soul is opening up continually to see more how Thou Thyself art my Life and my Holiness. Thou art enlarging my heart to rejoice in Thyself as my all, and to be assured that Thou dost Thyself take possession and fill the temple of my being with Thy glory. Thou art teaching me to understand that, however feeble and human and disappointing experiences may be, Thy Holy Spirit is the strength of my faith, leading me on to grow up into a stronger and a larger confidence in Thee in whom I am holy. O my Saviour! I take Thy word this day, 'Sanctified by faith in me,' as a new revelation of Thy love and its purpose with me. In Thee Thyself is the Power of my holiness; in Thee is the Power of my faith. Blessed be Thy name that Thou hast given me too a place among them of whom Thou speakest: 'Sanctified by faith in me.' Amen. 1. Let us remember that it is not only the faith that is dealing specially with Christ for sanctification, but all living faith, that has the power to sanctify. Anything that casts the soul wholly on Jesus, that calls forth intense and simple trust, be it the trial of faith, or the prayer of faith, or the work of faith, helps to make us holy, because it brings us into living contact with the Holy One. 2. It is only through the Holy Spirit that Christ and His Holiness are day by day revealed and made ours in actual possession. And so the faith which receives Him is of the Spirit too. Yield yourself in simplicity and trust to His working. Do not be afraid, as if you cannot believe: you have 'the Spirit of faith' within you: you have the power to believe. And you may ask God to strengthen you mightily by His Spirit in the inner man, for the faith that receives Christ in the indwelling that knows no break. 3. I have only so much of faith as I have of the Spirit. Is not this then what I most need--to live entirely under the influence of the Spirit? 4. Just as the eye in seeing is receptive, and yields to let the object placed before it make its impression, so faith is the impression God makes on the soul when He draws nigh. Was not the faith of Abraham the fruit of God's drawing near and speaking to him, the impression God made on him? Let us be still to gaze on the Divine mystery of Christ our holiness: His Presence, waited for and worshipped, will work the faith. That is, the Spirit that proceeds from Him into those who cling to Him, will be faith. 5. _Holiness by faith in Jesus_, not by effort of thine own, Sin's dominion crushed and broken _by the power of grace alone_,-- _God's own holiness_ within thee, His own beauty on thy brow,-- This shall be thy pilgrim brightness, this _thy blessed portion now_. F. R. H. [9] The best commentators connect the expression, 'by faith in me,' not with the word 'sanctified,' but with the whole clause, 'that by faith in me they may receive.' This will, however, in no way affect the application to the word sanctified. Thus read, the text tells us that the remission of sin, and the inheritance, and the sanctification which qualifies for the inheritance, are all received by faith. [10] See Note E. Nineteenth Day. HOLY IN CHRIST. Holiness and Resurrection. 'The Son of God, who was born of the seed of David _according to the flesh_, who was declared to be the Son of God with power, _according to the Spirit_ of holiness, by the resurrection of the dead.'--Rom. i. 4. These words speak of a twofold birth of Christ. According to the flesh, He was born of the seed of David. According to the Spirit, He was the first begotten from the dead. As He was a Son of David in virtue of His birth through the flesh, so He was declared to be the Son of God with power, in virtue of His resurrection-birth through the Spirit of holiness. As the life He received through His first birth was a life in and after the flesh with its weakness, so the new life He received in the resurrection was a life in the power of the Spirit of holiness. The expression, the Spirit of holiness, is a peculiar one. It is not the ordinary word for God's Holiness that is here used as in Heb. xii. 10, describing holiness in the abstract as the attribute of an object, but another word (also used in 2 Cor. vii. 1 and 1 Thess. iii. 13) expressing the habit of holiness in its action--practical holiness or sanctity.[11] Paul used this word, because He wished to emphasize the thought, that Christ's resurrection was distinctly the result of that life of holiness and self-sanctifying which had culminated in His death. It was the spirit of the life of holiness which he had lived, in the power of which He was raised again. He teaches us that that life and death of self-sanctification, in which alone our sanctification stands, was the root and ground of His resurrection, and of its declaration that He was the Son of God with power, the first begotten from the dead. The resurrection was the fruit which that Life of Holiness bore. And so the Life of Holiness becomes the property of all who are partakers of the resurrection. The Resurrection Life and the Spirit of Holiness are inseparable. Christ sanctified Himself in death, that we ourselves might be sanctified in truth: when in virtue of the Spirit of sanctity He was raised from the dead, that Spirit of holiness was proved to be the power of Resurrection Life, and the Resurrection Life to be a Life of Holiness. As a believer you have part in this Resurrection Life. You have been 'begotten again by the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead.' You are 'risen with Christ.' You are commanded 'to reckon yourself to be alive unto God in Christ Jesus.' But the life can work in power only as you seek to know it, to yield to it, to let it have full possession and mastery. And if it is to do this, one of the most important things for you to realize is, that as it was in virtue of the Spirit of holiness that Christ was raised, so the Spirit of that same holiness must be in you the mark and the power of your life. Study to know and possess the Spirit of holiness as it was seen in the life of your Lord. And wherein did it consist? Its secret was, we are told: 'Lo, I am come to do Thy will, O God.' 'In the which will,' as done by Christ, 'we have been sanctified by the one offering of the body of Jesus Christ.' This was Christ's sanctifying Himself, in life and in death; this was what the Spirit of holiness wrought in Him; this is what the same Spirit, the Spirit of the life in Christ Jesus, will work in us: a life in the will of God is a life of holiness. Seek earnestly to grasp this clearly. Christ came to reveal what true holiness would be in the conditions of human life and weakness. He came to work it out for you, that He might communicate it to you by His Spirit. Except you intelligently apprehend and heartily accept it, the Spirit cannot work it in you. Do seek with your whole heart to take hold of it: the will of God unhesitatingly accepted, is the power of holiness. It is in this that any attempt to be holy as Christ is holy, with and in His Holiness, must have its starting-point. Many seek to take single portions of the life or image of Christ for imitation, and yet fail greatly in others. They have not seen that the self-denial, to which Jesus calls, really means the denial of self, in the full meaning of that word. In not one single thing is the will of self to be done: Jesus, as He did the will of the Father only, must rule, and not self. To 'stand perfect and complete in all the will of God' must be the purpose, the prayer, the expectation of the disciple. There need be no fear that it is not possible to know the will of the Father in everything. 'If any man will do, he shall know.' The Father will not keep the willing child in ignorance of His will. As the surrender to the Spirit of holiness, to Jesus and the dominion of His holy life, becomes more simple, sin and self-will will be discovered, the spiritual understanding will be opened up, and the law written in the inward parts become legible and intelligible. There need be no fear that it is not possible to do the will of the Father when it is known. When once the grief of failure and sin has driven the believer into the experience of Rom. vii., and the 'delight in the law of God after the inward man' has proved its earnestness in the cry, 'O wretched man that I am,' deliverance will come through Jesus Christ. The Spirit works not only to will but to do; where the believer could only complain, 'To perform that which is good, I find not,' He gives the strength and song, 'The law of the Spirit of life in Christ Jesus hath made me free from the law of sin and death.' In this faith, that it is possible to know and do the will of God in all things, take over from Him, in whom alone you are holy, as your life-principle; 'I come to do Thy will, O God.' It is the principle of the resurrection life: without it Jesus had never been raised again. It is the principle of the new life in you. Accept it; study it; realize it; act it out. Many a believer has found that some simple words of dedication, expressive of the purpose in everything to do God's will, have been an entrance into the joy and power of the resurrection life previously unknown. The will of God is the complete expression of His moral perfection, His Divine Holiness. To take one's place in the centre of that will, to live it out, to be borne and sustained by it, was the power of that life of Jesus that could not be held of death, that could not but burst out in resurrection glory. What it was to Jesus it will be to us. Holiness is Life: this is the simplest expression of the truth our text teaches. There can be no holiness until there be a new life implanted. The new life cannot grow and break forth in resurrection power, cannot bring forth fruit, but as it grows in holiness. As long as the believer is living the mixed life, part in the flesh and part in the spirit, with some of self and some of Christ, he seeks in vain for holiness. It is the New Life that is the holy life: the full apprehension of it in faith, the full surrender to it in conduct, will be the highway of holiness. Jesus lived and died and rose again to prepare for us a new nature, to be received day by day in the obedience of faith: we 'have put on the new man, which after God is created in righteousness and true holiness.' Let the inner life, hid with Christ in God, hid also deep in the recesses of our inmost being, be acknowledged, be waited on, be yielded to, it will work itself out in all the beauties of holiness. There is more. This life is not like the life of nature, a blind, non-conscious principle, involuntarily working out its ideal in unresisting obedience to the law of its being. There is the Spirit of the life in Christ Jesus--the Spirit of holiness--the Holy Spirit dwelling in us as a Divine Person, entering into fellowship with us, and leading us into the fellowship of the Living Christ. It is this fills our life with hope and joy. The Risen Saviour breathed the Holy Spirit on His disciples: the Spirit brings the Risen One into the field, into our hearts, as a personal friend, as a Living Guide and Strengthener. The Spirit of holiness is the Spirit, the Presence, and the Power of the Living Christ. Jesus said of the Spirit, 'Ye know Him.' Is not our great need to know this Holy Spirit, the Spirit of Christ, of His Holiness and of ours? How can we 'walk after the Spirit' and follow His leading, if we know not Him and His voice and His way? Let us learn one more lesson from our text. _It is out of the grave of the flesh and the will of self that the Spirit of holiness breaks out in resurrection power._ We must accept death to the flesh, death to self with its willing and working, as the birthplace of our experience of the power of the Spirit of holiness. In view of each struggle with sin, in each exercise of faith or prayer, we must enter into the death of Jesus, the death to self, and as those who say, 'we are not sufficient to think anything as of ourselves,' in quiet faith expect the Spirit of Christ to do His work. The Spirit will work, strengthening you mightily in the inner man, and building up within you an holy temple for the Lord. And the time will come, if it has not come to you yet, and it may be nearer than you dare hope, when the conscious indwelling of Christ in your heart by faith, the full revelation and enthronement of Him as ruler and keeper of heart and life, shall have become a personal experience. According to the Spirit of holiness, by the resurrection from the dead, will the Son of God be declared with power in the kingdom that is within you. BE YE HOLY, FOR I AM HOLY. Most Holy Lord God! we do bless Thee that Thou didst raise Thy Son from the dead and give Him glory, that our faith and hope might be in Thee. Thou didst make His resurrection the power of eternal life in us, and now, even as He was raised, so we may walk in newness of life. As the Spirit of holiness dwelt and wrought in Him, it dwells and works in us, and becomes in us the Spirit of life. O God! we beseech Thee to perfect Thy work in Thy saints. Give them a deeper sense of the holy calling with which Thou hast called them in Christ, the Risen One. Give all to accept the Spirit of His life on earth, delight in the will of God, as the spirit of their life. May those who have never yet fully accepted this be brought to do it, and in faith of the power of the new life to say, I accept the will of God as my only law. May the Spirit of holiness be the spirit of their lives! Father! we beseech Thee, let Christ thus, in ever increasing experience of His resurrection power, be revealed in our hearts as the Son of God, Lord and Ruler within us. Let His life within inspire all the outer life, so that in the home and society, in thought and speech and action, in religion and in business, His life may shine out from us in the beauty of holiness. Amen. 1. Scripture regards the resurrection in two different aspects. In one view, it is the title to the new life, the source of our justification. (Rom. iv. 25, 1 Cor. xv. 17.) In another it is our regeneration, the power of the new life working in us, the source of our sanctification. (Rom. vi. 4; 1 Pet. i. 3.) Pardon and holiness are inseparable; they have the same source, union with the Risen Living Christ. 2. The blessedness to the disciples of having a Risen Christ was this: He, whom they thought dead, came and _revealed Himself_ to them. Christ lives to reveal Himself to thee and to me; wait on Him, trust Him for this. He will reveal Himself to thee as thy sanctification. See to it that thou hast Him in living possession, and thou hast His Holiness. 3. The life of Christ is the holiness of Christ. The reason we so often fail in the pursuit of holiness is that the old life, the flesh, in its own strength seeks for holiness as a beautiful garment to wear and enter heaven with. It is the daily death to self out of which the life of Christ rises up. 4. To die thus, to live thus in Christ, to be holy--how can we attain it? It all comes '_according to the Spirit of holiness_.' Have the Holy Spirit within thee. Say daily, 'I believe in the Holy Ghost.' 5. _Holy in Christ._ When Christ lives in us, and His mind, as it found expression in His words and work on earth, enters and fills our will and personal consciousness, then our union with Him becomes what He meant it to be. It is the Spirit of His holy conduct, the Spirit of His sanctity, must be in us. [11] See Note F. Twentieth Day. HOLY IN CHRIST. Holiness and Liberty. 'Being made _free from sin_, ye became servants of righteousness: now present your members as servants of righteousness _unto sanctification_. Now being made _free from sin_, and become servants unto God, ye have your fruit _unto sanctification_, and the end eternal life.'--Rom. vi. 18, 19, 22. 'Our liberty which we have in Christ Jesus.'--Gal. ii. 4. 'With freedom did Christ set us free: stand fast therefore, and be not entangled again in a yoke of bondage.'--Gal. v. 1. There is no possession more precious or priceless than liberty. There is nothing more inspiring and elevating; nothing, on the other hand, more depressing and degrading than slavery. It robs a man of what constitutes his manhood, the power of self-decision, self-action, of being and doing what he would. Sin is slavery; the bondage to a foreign power that has obtained the mastery over us, and compels often a most reluctant service. The redemption of Christ restores our liberty and sets us free from the power of sin. If we are truly to live as redeemed ones, we need not only to look at the work Christ did to accomplish our redemption, but to accept and realize fully how complete, how sure, how absolute the liberty is wherewith He hath made us free. It is only as we '_stand fast_ in our liberty in Christ Jesus,' that we can have our fruit unto sanctification. It is remarkable how seldom the word _holy_ occurs in the great argument of the Epistle to the Romans, and how, where twice used in chap. vi. in the expression 'unto sanctification,' it is distinctly set forth as the aim and fruit to be reached through a life of righteousness. The twice repeated 'unto sanctification,' pointing to a result to be obtained, is preceded by a twice repeated 'being made free from sin and become servants of righteousness.' It teaches us how the liberty from the power of sin and the surrender to the service of righteousness are not yet of themselves holiness, but the sure and only path by which it can be reached. A true insight and a full entering into our freedom from sin in Christ are indispensable to a life of holiness. It was when Israel was freed from Pharaoh that God began to reveal Himself as the Holy One: it is as we know ourselves 'freed from sin,' delivered from the hand of all our enemies, that we shall serve God in righteousness and holiness all the days of our life. '_Being made free from sin_:' to understand this word aright, we must beware of a twofold error. We must neither narrow it down to less, nor import into it more, than the Holy Spirit means by it here. Paul is speaking neither of an imputation nor an experience. We must not limit it to being made free from the curse or punishment of sin. The context shows that he is speaking, not of our judicial standing, but of a spiritual reality, our being in living union with Christ in His death and resurrection, and so being entirely taken out from under the dominion or power of sin. 'Sin shall not have dominion over you.' Nor is he as yet speaking of an experience, that we feel that we are free from all sin. He speaks of the great objective fact, Christ's having finally delivered us from the power which sin had to compel us to do its will and its works, and urges us, in the faith of this glorious fact, boldly to refuse to listen to the bidding or temptation of sin. To know our liberty which we have in Christ, our freedom from sin's mastery and power, is the way to realize it as an experience. In olden times, when Turks or Moors often made slaves of Christians, large sums were frequently paid for the ransom of those who were in bondage. But it happened more than once, away in the interior of the slave country, that the ransomed ones never got the tidings; the masters were only too glad to keep it from them. Others, again, got the tidings, but had grown too accustomed to their bondage to rouse themselves for the effort of reaching the coast. Slothfulness or hopelessness kept them in slavery; they could not believe that they would be able ever in safety to reach the land of liberty. The ransom had been paid; in truth they were free; and yet in their experience, by reason of ignorance or want of courage, they were still in bondage. Christ's redemption has so completely made an end of sin and the legal power it had over us,--for 'the strength of sin is the law,'--that in very deed, in the deepest reality, sin has no power to compel our obedience. It is only as we allow it again to reign, as we yield ourselves again as its servants, that it can exercise the mastery. Satan does his utmost to keep believers in ignorance of the completeness of this their freedom from his slavery. And because believers are so content with their own thoughts of what redemption means, and so little long and plead to see it and possess it in its fulness of deliverance and blessing, the experience of the extent to which the freedom from sin can be realized is so feeble. 'Where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is liberty.' It is by the Holy Spirit, His light and leading within, humbly watched for and yielded to, that this liberty becomes our possession. In the sixth chapter Paul speaks of freedom from sin, in chap. vii. (vers. 3, 4, 6) of freedom from the law, as both being ours in Christ and union with Him. In chap. viii. (ver. 2) he speaks of this freedom as become ours in experience. He says, 'The law of the Spirit of life in Christ Jesus hath made me free from the law of sin and death.' The freedom which is ours in Christ, must become ours in personal appropriation and enjoyment through the Holy Spirit. The latter depends on the former: the fuller the faith, the clearer the insight, the more triumphant the glorying in Christ Jesus and the liberty with which He has made us free, the speedier and the fuller the entrance into the glorious liberty of the children of God. As the liberty is in Christ alone, so it is the Spirit of Christ alone that makes it ours in practical possession, and keeps us dwelling in it: 'the spirit of the life in Christ Jesus _hath made me free_ from the law of sin and death.' 'Where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is liberty.' As the Spirit reveals Jesus to us as Lord and Master, the new Master, who alone has ought to say over us, and leads us to yield ourselves, to present our members, to surrender our whole life to the service of God in Christ, our faith in the freedom from sin becomes a consciousness and a realization. Believing in the completeness of the redemption, the captive goes forth as 'the Lord's freedman.' He knows now that sin has no longer power for one moment to command obedience. It may seek to assert its old right; it may speak in the tone of authority; it may frighten us into fear and submission; power it has none over us, except as we, forgetting our freedom, yield to its temptation, and ourselves give it power. We are the Lord's freedmen. 'We have our liberty in Christ Jesus.' In Rom. vii. Paul describes the terrible struggles of the soul who still seeks to fulfil the law, but finds itself utterly helpless; sold under sin, a captive and a slave, without the liberty to do what the whole heart desires. But when the Spirit takes the place of the law, the complaint, 'O wretched man that I am,' is changed into the song of victory: 'I thank God, through Jesus Christ, the law of the Spirit of life hath made me free.' What numberless complaints of insufficient strength to do God's will, of unsuccessful effort and disappointed hopes, of continual failure, re-echo in a thousand different forms the complaint of the captive, 'O wretched man that I am!' Thank God! there is deliverance. 'With freedom did Christ set us free! Stand fast therefore, and be not entangled again in a yoke of bondage.' Satan is ever seeking to lay on us again the yoke either of sin or the law, to beget again the spirit of bondage, as if sin or the law with their demands somehow had power over us. It is not so: be not entangled; stand fast in the liberty with which Christ has made you free. Let us listen to the message: 'Being made free from sin, ye became servants unto righteousness; now yield your members servants to righteousness _unto sanctification_.' 'Having been made free from sin, and having been enslaved unto God, ye have your fruit _unto sanctification_.' To be holy, you must be free, perfectly free; free for Jesus to rule you, to lead you; free for the Holy Spirit to dispose of you, to breathe in you, to work His secret, gentle, but mighty work, so that you may grow up unto all the liberty Jesus has won for you. The temple could not be sanctified by the indwelling of God, except as it was free from every other master and every other use, to be for Him and His service alone. The inner temple of our heart cannot be truly and fully sanctified, except as we are free from every other master and power, from every yoke of bondage, or fear, or doubt, to let His Spirit lead us into the perfect liberty which has its fruit in true holiness. Being made free from sin, having become servants unto righteousness, ye have your fruit unto holiness, and the end life everlasting. Freedom, Righteousness, Holiness--these are the steps on the way to the coming glory. The more deeply we enter by faith into our liberty, which we have in Christ, the more joyfully and confidently we present our members to God as instruments of righteousness. The God is the Father whose will we delight to do, whose service is perfect liberty. The Redeemer is the Master, to whom love binds us in willing obedience. The liberty is not lawlessness: 'we are delivered from our enemies, that we may serve Him in righteousness and holiness all the days of our life.'[12] The liberty is the condition of the righteousness; and this again of the holiness. The doing of God's will leads up into that fellowship, that heart sympathy with God Himself, out of which comes that reflection of the Divine Presence, which is Holiness. Being made free from sin, being made the slaves of righteousness and of God, we have our fruit unto holiness, and the end--the fruit of holiness becomes, when ripe, the seed of--everlasting life. BE YE HOLY, AS I AM HOLY. Most glorious God! I pray Thee to open my eyes to this wonderful liberty with which Christ has made me free. May I enter fully into Thy word, that sin shall have no dominion over me because I am not under the law but under grace. May I know my liberty which I have in Christ Jesus, and stand fast in it. Father! Thy service is perfect liberty: reveal this too to me. Thou art the infinitely Free, and Thy will knows no limits but what its own perfection has placed. And Thou invitest us into Thy will, that we may be free as Thou art. O my God! show me the beauty of Thy will, as it frees me from self and from sin, and let it be my only blessedness. Let the service of righteousness so be a joy and a strength to me, having its fruit unto sanctification, leading me into Thy Holiness. Blessed Lord Jesus! my Deliverer and my Liberty, I belong to Thee. I give myself to Thy will, to know no will but Thine. Master! Thee and Thee alone would I serve. I have my liberty in Thee! be Thou my Keeper. I cannot stand for one moment out of Thee. In Thee I can stand fast: in Thee I put my trust. Most Holy God! as Thy free, obedient, loving child, Thou wilt make me holy. Amen. 1. Liberty is the power to carry out unhindered the impulse of our nature. In Christ the child of God is free from every power that could hinder his acting out the law of his new nature. 2. This liberty is of faith (Gal. v. 5, 6). By faith in Christ I enter into it, and stand in it. 3. This liberty is of the Holy Spirit. 'Where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is liberty.' 'If ye be led of the Spirit, ye are not under the law.' A heart filled with the Spirit is made free indeed. But we are not made free that we may do our own will. No, made _free to follow the leading of the Holy Spirit_. 'Where the Spirit is, there is liberty.' 4. This liberty is in love. 'Ye were called for freedom; only use not your freedom for an occasion to the flesh, but through love be servants, one to another.' The freedom with which the Son makes free is a freedom to become like Himself, to love and to serve. 'Though I was free from all men, I brought myself under bondage to all, that I might gain the more.' This is the liberty of love. 5. 'Being made free from sin, ye became _servants of righteousness_ unto sanctification.' 'Let my people go, that they may serve me.' It is only the man that doeth righteousness that can become holy. 6. This liberty is a thing of joy and singing. 7. This liberty is the groundwork of holiness. The Redeemer who makes free is God the Holy One. As the Holy Spirit He leads into the full possession of it. To be so free from everything that God can take complete possession, is to be holy. [12] See Note G. Twenty-first Day. HOLY IN CHRIST. Holiness and Happiness. 'The kingdom of God is joy in the Holy Ghost.'--Rom. xiv. 17. 'The disciples were filled with joy and the Holy Ghost.'--Acts xiii. 52. 'Then Nehemiah said, This day is _holy_ unto the Lord: neither be ye sorry, for the _joy_ of the Lord is your strength. So the Levites stilled the people, saying, Hold your peace; for the day is _holy_; neither be ye grieved. And all the people went their way to make great _mirth_, because they had understood the words.'--Neh. viii. 10-12. The deep significance of joy in the Christian life is hardly understood. It is too often regarded as something secondary; whereas its presence is essential as the proof that God does indeed satisfy us, and that His service is our delight. In our domestic life we do not feel satisfied if all the proprieties of deportment are observed, and each does his duty to the other; true love makes us happy in each other; as love gives out its warmth of affection, gladness is the sunshine that fills the home with its brightness. Even in suffering or poverty, the members of a loving family are a joy to each other. Without this gladness, especially, there is no true obedience on the part of the children. It is not the mere fulfilment of a command, or performance of a service, that a parent looks to; it is the willing, joyful alacrity with which it is done that makes it pleasing. It is just so in the intercourse of God's children with their Father. Even in the effort after a life of consecration and gospel obedience, we are continually in danger of coming under the law again, with its, Thou shalt. The consequence always is failure. The law only worketh wrath; it gives neither life nor strength. It is only as long as we are standing in the joy of our Lord, in the joy of our deliverance from sin, in the joy of His love, and what He is for us, in the joy of His presence, that we have the power to serve and obey. It is only when made free from every master, from sin and self and the law, and only when rejoicing in this liberty, that we have the power to render service that is satisfying either to God or to ourselves. 'I will see you again,' Jesus said, 'and your heart shall rejoice, and your joy shall no man take from you.' Joy is the evidence and the condition of the abiding personal presence of Jesus. If holiness be the beauty and the glory of the life of faith, it is manifest that here especially the element of joy may not be wanting. We have already seen how the first mention of God as the Holy One was in the song of praise on the shore of the Red Sea; how Hannah and Mary in their moments of inspiration praised God as the Holy One; how the name of the Thrice Holy in heaven comes to us in the song of the seraphs; and how before the throne both the living creatures and the conquering multitude who sing the song of the Lamb, adore God as the Holy One. We are to 'worship Him in the beauty of holiness,' 'to sing praise at the remembrance of His Holiness;' it is only in the spirit of worship and praise and joy that we fully can know God as holy. Much more, it is only under the inspiration of adoring love and joy that we can ourselves be made holy. It is as we cease from all fear and anxiety, from all strain and effort, and rest with singing in what Jesus is in His finished work as our sanctification, as we rest and rejoice in Him, that we shall be made partakers of His Holiness. It is the day of rest, is the day that God has blessed, the day of blessing and gladness; and it is the day He blessed that is His holy day. Holiness and blessedness are inseparable. But is not this at variance with the teaching of Scripture and the experience of the saints? Are not suffering and sorrow among God's chosen means of sanctification? Are not the promises to the broken in heart, the poor in spirit, and the mourner? Are not self-denial and the forsaking of all we have, the crucifixion with Christ and the dying daily, the path to holiness? and is not all this more matter of sorrow and pain than of joy and gladness? The answer will be found in the right apprehension of the life of faith. Faith lifts above, and gives possession of, what is the very opposite of what we feel or experience. In the Christian life there is always a paradox: what appear irreconcilable opposites are found side by side at the same moment. Paul expresses it in the words, 'As dying, and, behold, we live; as sorrowful, yet always rejoicing; as poor, yet making many rich; as having nothing, yet possessing all things.' And elsewhere thus, '_When_ I am weak, _then_ am I strong.' The apparent contradiction has its reconciliation, not only in the union of the two lives, the human and the Divine, in the person of each believer, but specially in our being, at one and the same moment, partakers of the death and the resurrection of Christ. Christ's death was one of pain and suffering, a real and terrible death, a rending asunder of the bonds that united soul and body, spirit and flesh. The power of that death works in us: we must let it work mightily if we are to live holy; for in that death He sanctified Himself, that we ourselves might be sanctified in truth. Our holiness is, like His, in the death to our own will, and to all our own life. But--this we must seek to grasp--we do not approach death from the side from which Christ met it, as an enemy to be conquered, as a suffering to be borne, before the new life can be entered on. No, the believer who knows what Christ is as the Risen One, approaches death, the crucifixion of self and the flesh and the world, from the resurrection side, the place of victory, in the power of the Living Christ. When we were baptized into Christ, we were baptized into His death and resurrection as ours; and Christ Himself, the Risen Living Lord, leads us triumphantly into the experience of the power of His death. And so, to the believer who truly lives by faith, and seeks not in his own strugglings to crucify and mortify the flesh, but knows the living Lord, the deep resurrection joy never for a moment forsakes Him, but is his strength for what may appear to others to be only painful sacrifice and cross-bearing. He says with Paul, 'I glory in the cross through which I have been crucified.' He never, as so many do, asks Paul's question, 'Who shall deliver me from the body of this death?' without sounding the joyful and triumphant answer as a present experience, 'I thank God, through Jesus Christ our Lord.' 'Thanks be to God, which always leadeth us in triumph in Christ.' It is the joy of a Present Saviour, of the experience of a perfect salvation, the joy of a resurrection life, which alone gives the power to enter deeply and fully into the death that Christ died, and yield our will and our life to be wholly sanctified to God. In the joy of that life, from which the power of the death is never absent, it is possible to say with the Apostle each moment, 'As dying, and, behold, we live; as sorrowful, yet always rejoicing.' Let us seek to learn the two lessons: Holiness is essential to true happiness; happiness essential to true holiness. _Holiness is essential to true happiness._ If you would have joy, the fulness of joy, an abiding joy which nothing can take away, be holy as God is holy. Holiness is blessedness. Nothing can darken or interrupt our joy but sin. Whatever be our trial or temptation, the joy of Jesus of which Peter says, 'in whom ye now rejoice with joy unspeakable,' can more than compensate and outweigh. If we lose our joy, it must be sin. It may be an actual transgression, or an unconscious following of self or the world; it may be the stain on conscience of something doubtful, or it may be unbelief that would live by sight, and thinks more of itself and its joy than of the Lord alone: whatever it be, nothing can take away our joy but sin. If we would live lives of joy, assuring God and man and ourselves that our Lord is everything, is more than all to us, oh, let us be holy! Let us glory in Him who is our holiness: in His presence is fulness of joy. Let us live in the Kingdom which is joy in the Holy Ghost; the Spirit of holiness is the Spirit of joy, because He is the Spirit of God. It is the saints, God's holy ones, who will shout for joy. And _happiness is essential to true holiness_. If you would be a holy Christian, you must be a happy Christian. Jesus was anointed by God with 'the oil of gladness,' that He might give us 'the oil of joy.' In all our efforts after holiness, the wheels will move heavily if there be not the oil of joy; this alone removes all strain and friction, and makes the onward progress easy and delightful. Study to understand the Divine worth of joy. It is the evidence of your being in the Father's presence, and dwelling in His love. It is the proof of your being consciously free from the law and the strain of the spirit of bondage. It is the token of your freedom from care and responsibility, because you are rejoicing in Christ Jesus as your Sanctification, your Keeper, and your Strength. It is the secret of spiritual health and strength, filling all your service with the childlike happy assurance that the Father asks nothing that He does not give strength for, and that He accepts all that is done, however feebly, in this spirit. True happiness is always self-forgetful: it loses itself in the object of its joy. As the joy of the Holy Ghost fills us, and we rejoice in God the Holy One, through our Lord Jesus Christ, as we lose ourselves in the adoration and worship of the Thrice Holy, we become holy. This is, even here in the wilderness, 'the Highway of Holiness: the ransomed of the Lord shall come with singing; the redeemed shall walk there; everlasting joy shall be upon their heads; they shall obtain joy and gladness.' Do all God's children understand this? that holiness is just another name, the true name, that God gives for happiness; that it is indeed unutterable blessedness to know that God does make us holy, that our holiness is in Christ, that Christ's Holy Spirit is within us. There is nothing so attractive as joy: have believers understood it that this is the joy of the Lord--to be holy? Or is not the idea of strain, and sacrifice, and sighing, of difficulty and distance so prominent, that the thought of being holy has hardly ever made the heart glad? If it has been so, let it be so no longer. 'Thou shalt glory in the Holy One of Israel:' let us claim this promise. Let the believing assurance that our Loving Father, and our Beloved Lord Jesus, and the Holy Spirit, who in dove-like gentleness rests within us, have engaged to do the work, and are doing it, fill us with gladness. Let us not seek our joy in what we see in ourselves of holiness: let us rejoice in the Holiness of God in Christ as ours; let us rejoice in the Holy One of Israel. So shall our joy be unspeakable and unceasing; so shall we give Him the glory. BE YE HOLY, AS I AM HOLY. Most Blessed God! I beseech Thee to reveal to me and to all Thy children the secret of rejoicing in Thee, the Holy One of Israel. Thou seest how much of the service of Thine own dear children is still in the spirit of bondage, and how many have never yet believed that the Highway of Holiness is one on which they may walk with singing, and shall obtain joy and gladness. O Father! teach Thy children to rejoice in Thee. I ask Thee especially to teach us that, in deep poverty of spirit, in humility and contrition and utter emptiness, in the consciousness that there is no holiness in us, we can sing all the day of Thy Holiness as ours, of Thy glory which Thou layest upon us, and which yet all the time is Thine alone. O Father! open wide to Thy children the blessed mystery of the Kingdom, even the faith which sees all in Christ and nothing in itself; which indeed has and rejoices in all in Him; which never has or rejoices in ought in itself. Blessed God, in Thy Word Thou hast said, 'The meek shall increase their joy in the Lord, and the poor among men shall rejoice in the Holy One of Israel.' Oh, give us, by Thy Holy Spirit, in meekness and poverty of spirit, to live so in Christ, that His Holiness may be our ever-increasing joy, and that in Thyself, the Holy One of Israel, we may rejoice all the day. And may all see in us what blessedness it is to live as God's holy ones. Amen. 1. The great hindrance to joy in God is expecting to find something in ourselves to rejoice over. At the commencement of this pursuit of holiness we always expect to see a great change wrought in ourselves. As we are led deeper into what faith, and the faith-life is, we understand how, though we do not see the change as we expected, we may yet rejoice with joy unspeakable in what Jesus is. This is the secret of holiness. 2. Joy must be cultivated. To rejoice is a command more frequently given than we know. It is part of the obedience of faith, to rejoice when we do not feel like doing so. Faith rejoices and sings, because God is holy. 3. 'Filled with joy and the Holy Ghost,' 'The Kingdom is joy in the Holy Ghost.' The Holy Spirit, the Blessed Spirit of Jesus is within thee, a very fountain of living water, of joy and gladness. Oh, seek to know Him, who dwells in thee, to work all that Jesus has for thee: He will be in thee the Spirit of faith and of joy. 4. Love and joy ever keep company. Love, denying and forgetting itself for the brethren and the lost, living in them, finds the joy of God. 'The kingdom of God is joy in the Holy Ghost.' Twenty-second Day. HOLY IN CHRIST. In Christ our Sanctification. 'Of God are ye in Christ Jesus, who was made unto us wisdom from God, both righteousness and sanctification and redemption; that, according as it is written, He that glorieth, let him glory in the Lord.'--1 Cor. i. 30, 31. These words lead us on now to the very centre of God's revelation of the way of holiness. We know the steps of the road leading hither. He is holy, and holiness is His. He makes holy by coming near. His presence is holiness. In Christ's life, the holiness that had only been revealed in symbol, and as a promise of good things to come, had really taken possession of a human will, and been made one with true human nature. In His death every obstacle had been removed that could prevent the transmission of that holy nature to us: Christ had truly become our sanctification. In the Holy Spirit the actual communication of that holiness took place. And now we want to understand what the work is the Holy Spirit does, and how He communicates this holy nature to us: what our relation is to Christ as our sanctification, and what the position we have to take up toward Him, that in its fulness and its power it may do its work for us. The Divine answer to this question is, 'Of God are ye _in Christ_.' The one thing we need to apprehend is, what this our position and life in Christ is, and how that position and life may on our part be accepted and maintained. Of this we may be sure, that it is not something that is high and beyond our reach. There need be no exhausting effort or hopeless sighing, 'Who shall ascend into heaven, that is, to bring Christ down from above?' It is a life that is meant for the sinful and the weary, for the unworthy and the impotent. It is a life that is the gift of the Father's love, and that He Himself will reveal in each one who comes in childlike trust to Him. It is a life that is meant for our every-day life, that in every varying circumstance and situation will make and keep us holy. 'Of God are ye _in Christ_.' Ere our Blessed Lord left the world, He spake: Lo! I am with you alway, even to the end of the world. And it is written of Him: 'He that descended is the same that ascended far above all the heavens, that He might fill all things.' 'The Church is His body, the fulness of Him that filleth all in all.' In the Holy Spirit the Lord Jesus is with His people here on earth. Though unseen, and not in the flesh, His Personal Presence is as real on earth as when He walked with His disciples. In regeneration the believer is taken out of his old place 'in the flesh;' he is no longer in the flesh, but in the spirit (Rom. viii. 9); he is really and actually in Christ. The living Christ is around him by His holy Presence. Wherever and whatever he be, however ignorant of his position or however unfaithful to it, there he is in Christ. By an act of Divine and omnipotent grace, he has been planted into Christ, encircled on every side by the Power and the Love of Him who filleth all things, whose fulness specially dwells in His body here below, the Church. And how can one who is longing to know Christ fully as his sanctification, come to live out what God means and has provided in this--'in Christ'? The first thing that must be remembered is that it is a thing of faith and not of feeling. The promise of the indwelling and the quickening of the Holy One is to the humble and contrite. Just when I feel most deeply that I am not holy, and can do nothing to make myself holy, when I feel ashamed of myself, just then is the time to turn from self and very quietly to say: I am in Christ. Here He is all around me. Like the air that surrounds me, like the light that shines on me, here is my Lord Jesus with me in His hidden but Divine and most real presence. My faith must in quiet rest and trust bow before the Father, of whom and by whose Mighty Grace I am in Christ: He will reveal it to me with ever-growing clearness and power. He does it as I believe, and in believing open my whole soul to receive what is implied in it: the sense of sinfulness and unholiness must become the strength of my trust and dependence. In such faith I abide in Christ. But because it is of faith, therefore it is of the Holy Spirit. _Of God_ are ye _in Christ_. It is not as if God placed and planted us in Christ, and left it to us now to maintain the union. No, God is the Eternal One, the God of the everlasting life, who works every moment in a power that does not for one moment cease. What God gives, He continues with a never-ceasing giving. It is He who by the Holy Spirit makes this life in Christ a blessed reality in our consciousness. 'We have received the Spirit of God that we might _know_ the things that are freely given us of God.' Faith is not only dependent on God for the gift it is to accept, but for the power to accept. Faith not only needs the Son as its filling and its food; it needs the Spirit as its power to receive and hold. And so the blessed possession of all that it means to be in Christ our sanctification comes as we learn to bow before God in believing prayer for the mighty workings of the Spirit, and in the deep childlike trust that He will reveal and glorify in us this Christ our sanctification in whom we are. And how will the Spirit reveal this Christ in whom we are? It will specially be as the Living One, the Personal Friend and Master. Christ is not only our Example and our Ideal. His life is not only an atmosphere and an inspiration, as we speak of a man who mightily influences us by his writings. Christ is not only a treasury and a fulness of grace and power, into which the Spirit is to lead us. But Christ is the Living Saviour, with a heart that beats with a love that is most tenderly human, and yet Divine. It is in this love He comes near, and into this love He receives us, when the Father plants us into Him. In the power of a personal love He wishes to exercise influence, and to attach us to Himself. In that love of His we have the guarantee that His Holiness will enter us; in that love the great power by which it enters. As the Spirit reveals to us where we are dwelling, in Christ and His love, and that this Christ is a living Lord and Saviour, there wakens within us the enthusiasm of a personal attachment, and the devotion of a loving allegiance, that make us wholly His. And it becomes possible for us to believe that we can be holy: we feel sure that in the path of holiness we can go from strength to strength. Such believing insight into our relation to Christ as being in Him, and such personal attachment to Him who has received us into His love and keeps us abiding there, becomes the spring of a new obedience. The will of God comes to us in the light of Christ's life and His love--each command first fulfilled by Him, and then passed on to us as the sure and most blessed help to more perfect fellowship with the Father and His Holiness. Christ becomes Lord and King in the soul, in the power of the Holy Spirit, guiding the will into all the perfect will of God, and proving Himself to be its sanctification, as He crowns its obedience with ever larger inflow of the Presence and the Holiness of God. Is there any dear child of God at all disposed to lose heart as he thinks of what manner of man he ought to be in all holy living, let me call him to take courage. Could God have devised anything more wonderful or beautiful for such sinful, impotent creatures? Just think, Christ, God's own Son, made to be sanctification to you. The Mighty, Loving, Holy Christ, sanctified through suffering that He might have sympathy with you, given to make you holy. What more could you desire? Yes, there is more: '_Of God you are in Him._' Whether you understand it or not, however feebly you realize it, there it is, a thing most Divinely true and real. You are in Christ, by an act of God's own Mighty Power. And there, in Christ, God Himself longs to establish and confirm you to the end. And you have, greatest wonder of all, the Holy Spirit within you to teach you to know, and believe, and receive, all that there is in Christ for you. And if you will but confess that there is in you no wisdom or power for holiness, none at all, and allow Christ, 'the Wisdom of God and the Power of God,' by the Holy Spirit within you, to lead you on, and prove how completely, how faithfully, how mightily, He can be your sanctification, He will do it most gloriously. O my brother! come and consent more fully to God's way of holiness. Let Christ be your sanctification. Not a distant Christ to whom you look, but a Christ very near, all around you, in whom you are. Not a Christ after the flesh, a Christ of the past, but a present Christ in the power of the Holy Ghost. Not a Christ whom you can know by your wisdom, but the Christ of God, who is a Spirit, and whom the Spirit within you, as you die to the flesh and self, will reveal in power. Not a Christ such as your little thoughts can frame a conception of, but a Christ according to the greatness of the heart and the love of God. Oh, come and accept this Christ, and rejoice in Him! Be content now to leave all your feebleness, and foolishness, and faithlessness to Him, in the quiet confidence that He will do for you more than you can think. And so let it henceforth be, as it is written, He that glorieth, let him glory in the Lord. BE YE HOLY, AS I AM HOLY. Most Blessed Father! I bow in speechless adoration before the holy mystery of Thy Divine Love.... Oh, forgive me, that I have known and believed it so little as it is worthy of being known and believed. Accept my praise for what I have seen and tasted of its Divine blessedness. Accept, Lord God! of the praise of a glad and loving heart that only knows that it never can praise Thee aright. And hear my prayer, O my Father! that in the power of Thy Holy Spirit, who dwells in me, I may each day accept and live out fully what Thou hast given me in Christ my sanctification. May the unsearchable riches there are in Him be the daily supply for my every need. May His Holiness, His delight in Thy will, indeed become mine. Teach me, above all, how this can most surely be, because I am, through the work of Thine Almighty Quickening Power, in Him, kept there by Thyself. My Father! my faith cries out: I can be holy, blessed be my Lord Jesus! In this faith I yield myself to Thee, Lord Jesus, my King and Master, to do Thy will alone. In everything I do, great or small, I would act as one sanctified in Jesus, united to God's will in Him. It is Thou alone canst teach me to do this, canst give me strength to perform it. But I trust in Thee--art Thou not Christ my sanctification? Blessed Lord! I do trust Thee. Amen. 1. Christ, as He lived and died on earth, is our sanctification. His life, the Spirit of His life, is what constitutes our holiness. To be in perfect harmony with Christ, to have His mind, is to be holy. 2. Christ's Holiness had two sides. God sanctified Him by His Spirit: Christ sanctified Himself by following the leading of the Spirit, by giving up His will to God in everything. So God has made us holy in Christ; and so we follow after and perfect holiness by yielding ourselves to God's Spirit, by giving up our will and living in the will of God. 3. It is well that we take in every aspect of what God has revealed of holiness in His word. But let us never weary ourselves by seeking to grasp all completely. Let us even return to the simplicity that is in Jesus. To bow at His feet, to believe that He knows all we need, and has it all, and loves to give it all, is rest. And holiness is resting in Jesus the rest of God. Let all our thoughts be gathered up into this one: Jesus, Blessed Jesus. 4. This holy life in Christ is for to-day, when you read this. For to-day He is made of God unto you sanctification: to-day He will indeed be your holiness. Believe in Him for it; trust Him, praise Him. And remember: _you are in Him_. Twenty-third Day. HOLY IN CHRIST. Holiness and the Body. 'The temple of God is _holy_, which temple ye are. _The body_ is for the Lord, and the Lord for _the body_. Know ye not that your _body_ is the temple of _the Holy Ghost_ which is in you; therefore glorify God in your _body_.'--1 Cor. iii. 16, vi. 13, 19. 'She that is unmarried is careful for the things of the Lord, that she may be _holy_ both _in body_ and spirit.'--1 Cor. vii. 34. 'Present your _bodies_ a living sacrifice, _holy_, acceptable to God.'--Rom. xii. 1. Coming into the world, our Blessed Lord spake: '_A body_ didst Thou prepare for me; lo, I come to do Thy will, O God.' Leaving this world again, it was in His own _body_ that He bore our sins upon the tree. So it was in the body, no less than in soul and spirit, that He did the will of God. And therefore it is said, 'By which will we have been sanctified through the offering _of the body_ of Jesus Christ once for all.' When praying for the Thessalonians and their sanctification, Paul says, 'And the God of peace Himself sanctify you wholly; and may your spirit and soul and body be preserved entire, without blame, at the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ.' Of himself he had spoken as 'always bearing about _in the body_ the dying of Jesus, that the life also of Jesus may be manifested _in our body_. For we which live are always delivered unto death for Jesus' sake, that the life also of Jesus may be manifested _in our mortal flesh_.' His earnest expectation and hope was, 'that Christ be magnified _in my body_, whether by life or by death.' The relation between body and spirit is so intimate, the power of sin in the spirit comes so much through the body, the body is so distinctly the object both of Christ's redemption and the Holy Spirit's renewal, that our study of holiness will be seriously defective if we do not take in the teaching of Scripture on holiness in the body. It has been well said that the body is, to the soul and spirit dwelling and acting within it, like the walls of the city. Through them the enemy enters in. In time of war, everything yields to the defence of the walls. It is often because the believer does not know the importance of keeping the walls defended, keeping the body sanctified, that he fails in having the soul and spirit preserved blameless. Or it is because he does not understand that the guarding and sanctifying of the body in all its parts must be as distinctly a work of faith, and as directly through the mighty power of Jesus and the indwelling of the Spirit, as the renewing of the inner life, that progress in holiness is so feeble. The rule of the city we entrust to Jesus: but the defence of the walls we keep in our own hands; the King does not keep us as we expected, and we cannot discover the secret of failure. It is the God of peace _Himself_, who sanctifies wholly, who must preserve spirit and soul _and body_ entire and without blame. The tabernacle with its wood, the temple with its stone, were as holy as all included within their walls: God's holy ones need the body to be holy. To realize the full meaning of this, let us remember how it was through the body sin entered. 'The woman saw that the tree was good for food,' this was the temptation in the flesh; through this the soul was reached, 'it was a delight to the eyes;' through the soul it then passed into the spirit, 'and to be desired to make one wise.' In John's description of what is in the world (1 John ii. 15), we find the same threefold division, 'the lust of the flesh, the lust of the eyes, and the pride of life.' And the three temptations of Jesus by Satan correspond exactly: he first sought to reach Him through the body, in the suggestion to satisfy His hunger by making bread; the second (see Luke iv.) appealed to the soul, in the vision of the kingdoms of this world and their glory; the third to the spirit, in the call to assert and prove His Divine Sonship by casting Himself down. Even to the Son of God the first temptation came, as to Adam and all in the world, as lust of the flesh, the desire to gratify the natural and lawful appetite of hunger. We cannot note too carefully that it was on a question of eating what appeared good for food that man's first sin was committed, and that that same question of eating to satisfy hunger was the battleground on which the Redeemer's first encounter with Satan took place. It is on the question of eating and drinking what is good and lawful that more Christians than are aware of it are foiled by Satan. To have every appetite of the body under the rule and regulation of the Holy Spirit appears to some needless, to others too difficult. And yet it must be, if the body is to be holy, as God's temple, and we are to glorify Him in our body and our spirit. The first approaches of sin are made through the body: in the body the complete victory will be gained. What Scripture teaches as to the intimacy of the connection between the body and spirit, physiology confirms. What appear at first merely physical transgressions leave a stain and have a degrading influence on the soul, and through it drag down the spirit. And on the other side, spiritual sins, sins of thought and imagination and disposition, pass through the soul into the body, fix themselves in the nervous constitution, and express themselves even in the countenance and the habits or tendencies of the body. Sin must be combated not only in the region of the spirit: if we are to perfect holiness, we must cleanse ourselves from all defilement of flesh _and_ spirit. 'If through the Spirit ye do make dead the deeds of _the body_, ye shall live.' If we are indeed to be cleansed from sin and made holy unto God, the body, as the outworks, must very specially be secured from the power of Satan and of sin. And how is this to be done? God has made very special provision for this. Holy Scripture speaks so explicitly of the Holy Spirit, the Spirit that communicates holiness, in connection with the body. At first sight it looks as if the word, your bodies, were simply used as equivalent to, your persons, yourselves. But as the deeper insight into the power of sin in the body, and the need of a deliverance specially there, quickens our perception, we see what is meant by the body being the temple of the Holy Spirit. We notice how very specially it is of sins in the body that Paul speaks as defiling God's holy temple; and how it is through the power of the Holy Ghost in the body that he would have us glorify God. 'Know ye not that _your body_ is the temple of the Holy Ghost: glorify God therefore, in the power of the Holy Spirit, in _your body_.' The Holy Spirit must not only exercise a restraining and regulating influence on the appetites of the body and their gratification, so that they be in moderation and temperance,--this is only the negative side,--but there must be a positively spiritual element, making the exercise of natural functions a service of holy joy and liberty to the glory of God; no longer a threatened hindrance to the life of obedience and fellowship, but a means of grace, a real help to the spiritual life. It is only in a body that is full of the holy life, very entirely possessed of God's Spirit, that this will be the case. And how can this be obtained? In the true Christian life, self-denial is the path to enjoyment, renunciation to possession, death to life. As long as there is ought that we think we have liberty and power to use or enjoy aright, if we but do so in moderation, we have not yet seen or confessed our own unholiness, or the need of the entire renewing of the Holy Spirit. It is not enough to say, 'Every creature of God is good, if it be received with thanksgiving;' we must remember the addition, 'for it is sanctified by the word and by prayer.' This sanctifying of every creature and its use is a thing as real and solemn as the sanctifying of ourselves. And this will only be where, if need be, we sacrifice the gift and the liberty to use it, until God gives us the power truly to use it to His glory alone. Of one of the most sacred of Divine institutions, marriage, Paul, who so denounces those who would forbid to marry, says distinctly that there may be cases in which a voluntary celibacy may be the surest and acceptable way of being 'holy both in body and spirit.' When to be holy as God is holy indeed becomes the great desire and aim of life, everything will be cherished or given up as it promotes the chief end. The actual and active presence of the Holy Spirit in the life of the body will be the fire that is kept burning continually on the altar. And how is this to be attained? Of the body as of the spirit it is God, God in Christ, who is our Keeper and our Sanctifier. The guarding of the walls of the city must be entrusted to Him who rules within. 'I am persuaded that He is able to guard my deposit,' to keep that which I have committed to Him, must become as definitely true of the body, and of each of its functions of which we are conscious that it is the occasion of doubt or of stumbling, as it has been of the soul we entrusted to Him for salvation. A fixed deposit in a bank is money given away out of my hands to be kept there: the body or any part of it that needs to be made holy must be a deposit with Jesus. Faith must trust His acceptance and guarding of it; prayer and praise must daily afresh renew the assurance, must confirm the committal of the deposit, and maintain the fellowship with Jesus. Abiding thus in Him and His Holiness, we shall receive, in a life of trust and joy, the power to prove, even in the body, how fully and wholly we are in Him who is made unto us sanctification, how real and true the Holiness of God is in His people. BE YE HOLY, AS I AM HOLY. Blessed Lord! who art my sanctification, I come to Thee now with a very special request. O Thou who didst in Thine own body bear our sins on the tree, and of whom it is written, 'We have been sanctified through the offering of the body of Jesus Christ once for all,' be pleased to reveal to me how my body may to the full experience the power of Thy wonderful redemption. I do desire in soul and body to be holy to the Lord. Lord! I have too little understood that my body is the temple of the Holy Ghost, that there is nothing in it that can be matter of indifference, that its every state and function is to be holiness to the Lord. And where I saw that this should be so, I have still sought myself to guard from the enemy's approaches these the walls of the city. I forgot how this part of my being too could alone be kept and sanctified by faith, by Thy taking and keeping charge of what faith entrusted to Thee. Lord Jesus! I come now to surrender this body with all its needs into Thy hands. In weariness and nervousness, in excitement and enjoyment, in hunger and want, in health and plenty, O my holy Saviour, let my body be in Thy keeping every moment. Thou callest us, 'being made free from sin, to present our members as servants of righteousness unto sanctification.' Saviour! in the faith of the freedom from sin which I have in Thee, I present every member of my body to Thee: I believe the Spirit of life in Thee makes me free from the law of sin in my members. Whether living or dying, be Thou magnified in my body. Amen. 1. In the tabernacle and temple, the material part was to be in harmony with, and the embodiment of, the holiness that dwelt within. It was therefore all made according to the pattern shown in the mount. In the two last chapters of Exodus, we have eighteen times 'as the Lord commanded.' Everything, even in the exterior, was the embodiment of the will of God. Even so our body, as God's temple, must in everything be regulated by God's word, quickened and sanctified by the Holy Spirit. 2. As part of this holiness in the body, Scripture mentions dress. Speaking of the 'outward adorning of plaiting the hair, of wearing jewels, or the putting on of apparel,' as inconsistent with 'the apparel of a meek and quiet spirit,' Peter says, 'After this manner aforetime _the holy women_, who hoped in God, adorned themselves.' Holiness was seen in their dressing; their body was the temple of the Holy Spirit. 3. 'If ye through the Spirit do make dead the deeds of _the body_, ye shall live.' His quickening energy must reign through the whole. We are so accustomed to connect the spiritual with the ideal and invisible, that it will need time and thought and faith to realize how the physical and the sensible influence our spiritual life, and must be under the mastery and inspiration of God's Spirit. Even Paul says, 'I buffet _my body_, and bring it into bondage, lest I myself should be rejected.' 4. If God actually breathed His Spirit into the body of Adam formed out of the ground, let it not be thought strange that the Holy Spirit should now animate our bodies too with His sanctifying energy. 5. 'Corporeality is the end of the ways of God.' This deep saying of an old divine reminds us of a much neglected truth. The great work of God's Spirit is to ally Himself with matter, and form it into a spiritual body for a dwelling for God. In our body the Holy Spirit will do it, if He gets complete possession. 6. It is on this truth of the Holy Spirit's power in the body that what is called Faith-healing rests. Through all ages, in times of special spiritual quickening, God has given it to some to see how Christ would make, even here, the body partaker of the life and power of the Spirit. To those who do see it, the link between Holiness and Healing is a very close and blessed one, as the Lord Jesus takes possession of the body for Himself. Twenty-fourth Day. HOLY IN CHRIST. Holiness and Cleansing. 'Having therefore these promises, beloved, let us _cleanse_ ourselves from all defilement of flesh and spirit, perfecting _holiness_ in the fear of God.'--2 Cor. vii. 1. That holiness is more than cleansing, and must be preceded by it, is taught us in more than one passage of the New Testament. 'Christ loved the Church, and gave Himself up for it, that He might _sanctify_ it, having _cleansed_ it by the washing of water with the word.' 'If a man _cleanse_ himself from these, he shall be a vessel _sanctified_.' The cleansing is the negative side, the being separate and not touching the unclean thing, the removal of impurity; the sanctifying is the positive union and fellowship with God, and the participation of the graces of the Divine life and holiness (2 Cor. vi. 17, 18). So we read too of the altar, that God spake to Moses: 'Thou shalt _cleanse_ the altar, when thou makest atonement for it, and thou shalt anoint it, to _sanctify_ it' (Ex. xxix. 36). Cleansing must ever prepare the way, and ought always to lead on to holiness. Paul speaks of a twofold defilement, of flesh and spirit, from which we must cleanse ourselves. The connection between the two is so close, that in every sin both are partakers. The lowest and most carnal form of sin will enter the spirit, and, dragging it down into partnership in crime, will defile and degrade it. And so will all defilement of spirit in course of time show its power in the flesh. Still we may speak of the two classes of sins as they owe their origin more directly to the flesh or the spirit. '_Let us cleanse ourselves from all defilement of flesh._' The functions of our body may be classed under the three heads of the nourishment, the propagation, and the protection of our life. Through the first the world daily solicits our appetite with its food and drink. As the fruit good for food was the temptation that overcame Eve, so the pleasures of eating and drinking are among the earliest forms of defilement of the flesh. Closely connected with this is what we named second, and which is in Scripture specially connected with the word flesh. We know how in Paradise the sinful eating was at once followed by the awakening of sinful lust and of shame. In his First Epistle to the Corinthians, Paul closely connects the two (1 Cor. vi. 13, 15), as he also links drunkenness and impurity (1 Cor. vi. 9, 10). Then comes the third form in which the vitality of the body displays itself: the instinct of self-preservation, setting itself against everything that interferes with our pleasures and comfort. What is called temper, with its fruits of anger and strife, has its roots in the physical constitution, and is one among the sins of the flesh. From all this, the Christian, who would be holy, must most determinedly cleanse himself. He must yield himself to the searching of God's Spirit, to be taught what there is in the flesh that is not in harmony with the temperance and self-control demanded both by the law of nature and the law of the Spirit. He must believe, what Paul felt that the Corinthians so emphatically needed to be taught, that the Holy Spirit dwells in the body, making its members the members of Christ, and in this faith put off the works of the flesh; he must cleanse himself from all defilement of flesh. '_And of spirit._' As the source of all defilement of the flesh is self-gratification, so self-seeking is at the root of all defilement of the spirit. In relation to God, it manifests itself in idolatry, be it in the worship of other gods after our own heart, the love of the world more than God, or the doing our will rather than His. In relation to our fellow-men it shows itself in envy, hatred, and want of love, cold neglect or harsh judging of others. In relation to ourselves it is seen as pride, ambition, or envy, the disposition that makes self the centre round which all must move, and by which all must be judged. For the discovery of such defilement of spirit, no less than of the sins of the flesh, the believer needs the light of the Holy Spirit; that the uncleanness may indeed be cleansed out and cast away for ever. Even unconscious sin, if we are not earnestly willing to have it shown to us, will most effectually prevent our progress in the path of holiness. '_Beloved! let us cleanse ourselves._' The cleansing is sometimes spoken of as the work of God (Acts xv. 9; 1 John i. 9); sometimes as that of Christ (John xv. 3; Eph. v. 26; Tit. ii. 14). Here we are commanded to cleanse ourselves. God does His work in us by the Holy Spirit; the Holy Spirit does His work by stirring us up and enabling us to do. The Spirit is the strength of the new life; in that strength we must set ourselves determinedly to cast out whatever is unclean. 'Come out, and be ye separate, and touch not the unclean thing.' It is not only the doing what is sinful, it is not only the willing of it, that the Christian must avoid, but even the touching it: the involuntary contact with it must be so unbearable as to force the cry, O wretched man that I am! and to lead on to the deliverance which the Spirit of the life of Christ does bring. And how is this cleansing to be done? When Hezekiah called the priests to sanctify the temple that had been defiled, we read (2 Chron. xxix.), 'The priests went in unto the inner part of the house of the Lord to cleanse it, and brought out all the uncleanness that they found.' Only then could the sin-offering of atonement and the burnt-offering of consecration, with the thankofferings, be brought, and God's service be restored. Even thus must all that is unclean be looked out, and brought out, and utterly cast out. However deeply rooted the sin may appear, rooted in constitution and habit, we must cleanse ourselves of it if we would be holy. 'If we walk in the light, as He is in the light, the blood of Jesus Christ cleanseth from all sin.' As we bring out every sin from the inner part of the house into the light of God and walk in the light, the precious blood that justifies will work mightily to cleanse too: the blood brings into living contact with the life and the love of God. Let us come into the light with the sin: the blood will prove its mighty power. Let us cleanse ourselves in yielding ourselves to the light to reveal and condemn, to the blood to cleanse and sanctify. 'Let us cleanse ourselves, _perfecting holiness in the fear of the Lord_.' We read in Hebrews (x. 14), 'Christ hath perfected forever them that are sanctified.' As we have so often seen that what God has made holy man must make holy too, as he accepts and appropriates the holiness God has bestowed, so here with the perfection which the saints have in Christ. We must perfect holiness: holiness must be carried out into the whole of life, and carried on even to its end. As God's holy ones, we must go on to perfection, perfecting holiness. Do not let us be afraid of the word. Our Blessed Lord used it when He gave us the command, 'Be ye perfect, even as your Father in heaven is perfect.' A child striving after the perfection in knowledge of his profession, which he hopes to attain when he has finished school, is told by his teacher that the way to the perfection he hopes for at the end of his course is to seek to be perfect in the lessons of each day. To be perfect in the small portion of the work that each hour brings, is the path to the perfection that will crown the whole. The Master calls us to a perfection like that of the Father: He hath already perfected us in Himself: He holds out the prospect of perfection ever growing. His word calls us here day by day to be perfecting holiness. Let us seek in each duty to be whole-hearted and entire. Let us, as teachable scholars, in every act of worship or obedience, in every temptation and trial, do the very best which God's Spirit can enable us to do. 'Let patience have its perfect work, that ye may be perfect and entire, lacking in nothing.' 'The God of peace make you perfect in every good work to do His will.' '_Having therefore these promises_, beloved, let us cleanse ourselves from all defilement of flesh and spirit, perfecting holiness in the fear of God.' It is faith that gives the courage and the power to cleanse from all defilement, perfecting holiness in the fear of God. It is as the promises of the Divine love and indwelling (2 Cor. vi 16-18) are made ours by the Holy spirit, that we shall share the victory which overcometh the world, even our faith. In the path along which we have already come, from the rest in Paradise down through Holy Scripture, we have seen the wondrous revelation of these promises in ever-growing splendour. That God the Holy One will make us holy; that God the Holy One will dwell with the lowly; that God in His Holy One has come to be our holiness; that God has planted us in Christ that He may be our sanctification; that God, who chose us in sanctification of the Spirit, has given us the Holy Spirit in our hearts, and now watches over us in His love to work out through Him His purposes and to perfect our holiness: such are the promises that have been set before us. 'Having therefore these promises, beloved, let us cleanse ourselves from all filthiness of flesh and spirit, perfecting holiness in the fear of God.' Beloved brother! see here again God's way of holiness. Arise and step on to it in the faith of the promise, fully persuaded that what He hath promised He is mighty to perform. Bring out of the inner part of the house all uncleanness; bring it into the light of God; confess it and cast it at His feet, who takes it away, and cleanses you in His blood. Yield yourself in faith to perfect, in Christ your Strength, the Holiness to which you are called. As your Father in heaven is perfect, give yourself to Him as a little child to be perfect too in your daily lessons and your daily walk. Believe that your surrender is accepted: that the charge committed to Him is undertaken. And give glory to Him who is able to do above what you can ask or think. BE YE HOLY, AS I AM HOLY. Holy Lord Jesus! Thou didst give Thyself for us, that, having cleansed us for Thyself as Thine own, Thou mightest sanctify us and present us to Thyself a glorious Church, not having spot or wrinkle or any such thing. Blessed be Thy Name for the wonderful love. Blessed be Thy Name for the wonderful cleansing. Through the washing by the word and the washing in the blood, Thou hast made us clean every whit. And as we walk in the light, Thou cleansest every moment. With these promises, in the power of Thy word and blood, Thou callest us to cleanse ourselves from all defilement of flesh and spirit. Blessed Lord! graciously reveal in Thy Holy Light all that is defilement, even its most secret working. Let me live as one who is to be presented to Thee without spot or wrinkle or any such thing--cleansed with a Divine cleansing, because Thou gavest Thyself to do it. Under the living power of Thy word and blood, applied by the Holy Spirit, let my way be clean, and my hands clean, my lips clean, and my heart clean. Cleanse me thoroughly, that I may walk with Thee in white here on earth, keeping my garments unspotted and undefiled. For Thy great love's sake, my Blessed Lord. Amen. 1. Cleansing has almost always one aim: a cleansed vessel is fit for use. Spiritual work done for God, with the honest desire that He may through His Spirit use us, will give urgency to our desire for cleansing. A vessel not cleansed cannot be used: is not this the reason that there are some workers God cannot bless? 2. _All_ defilement: one stain defiles. 'Let us cleanse ourselves from _all_ defilement.' 3. No cleansing without Light. Open the heart for the Light to shine in. 4. No cleansing like fire. Give the defilement over to the fire of His Holiness, the fire that consumes and purifies. Give it into the death of Jesus, to Jesus Himself. 5. 'Perfecting holiness in _the fear of God_:' it is a solemn work. Rejoice with trembling--work out your salvation with fear and trembling. 6. 'Having these promises,' it is a blessed work to cleanse ourselves--entering into the promises, the purity, the love of our Lord. The fear of God need never hinder the faith in Him. And true faith will never hinder the practical work of cleansing. 7. _If we walk in the light, the blood cleanseth._ The light reveals; we confess and forsake, and accept the blood; so we cleanse ourselves. Let there be a very determined purpose to be clean from all defilement, everything that our Father considers a stain. Twenty-fifth Day. HOLY IN CHRIST. Holy and Blameless. 'Ye are witnesses, and God also, how _holily_ and justly and _unblameably_ we behaved ourselves among you that believe.--The Lord make you to increase and abound in love one toward another, and toward all men, to the end He may stablish your hearts _unblameable in holiness_ before our God and Father at the coming of our Lord Jesus with all His _holy ones_.'--1 Thess. ii. 10, iii. 12, 13. 'He chose us in Him before the foundation of the world, that we should be _holy and without blemish_ before Him _in love_.'--Eph. i. 4. There are two Greek words, signifying nearly the same, used frequently along with the word holy, and following it, to express what the result and effect of holiness will be as manifested in the visible life. The one is translated without blemish, spotless, and is that also used of our Lord and His sacrifice, the Lamb without blemish (Heb. ix. 14; 1 Pet. i. 19). It is then used of God's children with holy--holy and without blemish (Eph. i. 4, 5, 27; Col. i. 22; Phil. ii. 15; Jude 24; 2 Pet. iii. 14). The other is without blame, faultless (as in Luke i. 6; Phil ii. 15, iii. 6), and is also found in conjunction with holy (1 Thess. ii. 10, iii. 13, v. 23). In answer to the question as to whether this blamelessness has reference to God's estimate of the saints or men's, Scripture clearly connects it with both. In some passages (Eph. i. 4, v. 27; Col. i. 22; 1 Thess. iii. 15; 2 Pet. iii. 14) the words 'before Him,' 'to Himself,' 'before our God and Father,' indicate that the first thought is of the spotlessness and faultlessness in the presence of a Holy God, which is held out to us as His purpose and our privilege. In others (such as Phil. ii. 15; 1 Thess. ii. 10), the blamelessness in the sight of men stands in the foreground. In each case the word may be considered to include both aspects: without blemish and without blame must stand the double test of the judgment of God and man too. And what is now the special lesson which this linking together of these two words in Scripture, and the exposition of holy by the addition of blameless, is meant to teach us? A lesson of deep importance. In the pursuit of holiness, the believer, the more clearly he realizes what a deep spiritual blessing it is, to be found only in separation from the world, and direct fellowship with God, to be possessed fully only through a real Divine indwelling, may be in danger of looking too exclusively to the Divine side of the blessing, in its heavenly and supernatural aspect. He may forget how repentance and obedience, as the path leading up to holiness, must cover every, even the minutest detail of daily life. He may not understand how faithfulness to the leadings of the Spirit, in such measure as we have Him already, faithfulness to His faintest whisper in reference to ordinary conduct, is essential to all fuller experience of His power and work as the Spirit of holiness. He may, above all, not have learnt how, not only obedience to what he knows to be God's will, but a very tender and willing teachableness to receive all that the Spirit has to show him of his imperfections and the Father's perfect will concerning him, is the only condition on which the Holiness of God can be more fully revealed to us and in us. And so, while most intent on trying to discover the secret of true and full holiness from the Divine side, he may be tolerating faults which all around him can notice, or remaining,--and that not without sin, because it comes from the want of perfect teachableness,--ignorant of graces and beauties of holiness with which the Father would have had him adorn the doctrine of holiness before men. He may seek to live a very holy, and yet think little of a perfectly blameless life. There have been such saints, holy but hard, holy but distant, holy but sharp in their judgments of others; holy, but men around said, unloving and selfish; the half-heathen Samaritan more kind and self-sacrificing than the holy Levite and priest. If this be true, it is not the teaching of Holy Scripture that is to blame. In linking holy and without blemish (or without blame) so closely, the Holy Spirit would have led us to seek for the embodiment of holiness as a spiritual power in the blamelessness of practice and of daily life. Let every believer who rejoices in God's declaration that he is holy in Christ seek also to perfect holiness, reach out after nothing less than to be 'unblameable in holiness.' That this blamelessness has very special reference to our intercourse with our fellow-men we see from the way in which it is linked with love. So in Eph. i. 4, 'That we should be holy and without blemish before Him _in love_.' But specially in that remarkable passage: 'The Lord make you to _increase and abound in love_ toward one another, and toward all men, _to the end He may establish your hearts unblameable in holiness_.' The holiness and the blamelessness, the positive hidden Divine life-principle, and the external and human life-practice--both are to find their strength, by which we are to be established in them, in our abounding and ever-flowing love. Holiness and lovingness--it is of deep importance that these words should be inseparably linked in our minds, as their reality in our lives. We have seen, in the study of the holiness of God, how love is the element in which it dwells and works, drawing to itself and making like itself all that it can get possession of. Of the fire of Divine holiness love is the beautiful flame, reaching out to communicate itself and assimilate to itself all it can lay hold of. In God's children true holiness is the same; the Divine fire burns to bring into its own blessedness all that comes within its reach. When Jesus sanctified Himself that we might be sanctified in truth, that was nothing but love giving itself to the death that the sinful might share His holiness. Selfishness and holiness are irreconcilable. Ignorance may think of sanctity as a beautiful garment with which to adorn itself before God, while underneath there is a selfish pride saying, 'I am holier than thou,' and quite content that the other should want what it boasts of. True holiness, on the contrary, is the expulsion and the death of selfishness, taking possession of heart and life to be the ministers of that fire of love that consumes itself, to reach and purify and save others. Holiness is love. Abounding love is what Paul prays for as the condition of unblameable holiness. It is as _the Lord makes_ us to increase and abound in love, that _He can establish_ our hearts unblameable in holiness. The Apostle speaks of a twofold love, 'love toward each other, and toward all men.' Love to the brethren was what our Lord Himself enjoined as the chief mark of discipleship. And He prayed the Father for it as the chief proof to the world of the truth of His Divine mission. It is in the holiness of love, in a loving holiness, that the unity of the body will be proved and promoted, and prepared for the fuller workings of the Holy Spirit. In the Epistles to the Corinthians and Galatians, division and distance among believers are named as the sure proof of the life of self and the flesh. Oh, let us, if we would be holy, begin by being very gentle, and patient, and forgiving, and kind, and generous in our intercourse with all the Father's children. Let us study the Divine image of the love that seeketh not its own, and pray unceasingly that the Lord may make us to abound in love to each other. The holiest will be the humblest and most self-forgetting, the gentlest and most self-denying, the kindest and most thoughtful of others for Jesus' sake. 'Put on therefore, as God's elect, _holy and beloved_, a heart of compassion, kindness, humility, meekness, long-suffering' (Col. iii. 12, 13). And then the love toward all men. A love proved in the conduct and intercourse of daily life. A love that not only avoids anger and evil temper and harsh judgments, but exhibits the more positive virtue of active devotion to the welfare and interests of all. A charitable love that cares for the bodies as well as the souls. A love that not only is ready to help when it is called, but that really gives itself up to self-denial and self-sacrifice to seek out and relieve the needs of the most wretched and unworthy. A love that does indeed take Christ's love, that brought Him from heaven and led Him to choose the cross, as the only law and measure for its conduct, and makes everything subordinate to the Godlike blessedness of giving, of doing good, of embracing and saving the needy and lost. Thus abounding in love, we shall be unblameable in holiness. It is in Christ we are holy; of God we are in Christ, who is made of God unto us sanctification: it is in this faith that Paul prays that the Lord, our Lord Jesus, may make us increase and abound in love. The Father is the fountain, He is the channel; the Holy Spirit is the living stream. And He is our Life, through the Spirit. It is by faith in Him, by abiding in Him and in His love, by allowing, in close union with Him, the Spirit to shed abroad the love of God, that we shall receive the answer to our prayer, and shall by Himself be established unblameable in holiness. Let it be with us a prayer of faith that changes into praise: Blessed be the Lord, who will make us increase and abound in love, and will establish us unblameable in holiness before our God and Father, at the coming of our Lord Jesus with His holy ones. BE YE HOLY, AS I AM HOLY. Most Gracious God and Father! again do I thank Thee for that wondrous salvation, through sanctification of the Spirit, which has made us holy in Christ. And I thank Thee that the Spirit can so make us partakers of the life of Christ, that we too may be unblameable in holiness. And that it is the Lord Himself who makes us to increase and abound in love, to the end our hearts may be so established; that the abounding love and the unblameable holiness are both from Him. Blessed Lord and Saviour! I come now to claim and take as my own, what Thou art able to do for me. I am holy only in Thee; in Thee I am holy. In Thee there is for me the power to abound in love. O Thou, in whom the fulness of God's love abides, and in whom I abide, the Lord, my Lord, make me to abound in love. In union with Thee, in the life of faith in which Thou livest in me, it can be and it shall be. By the teaching of Thy Holy Spirit lead me in all the footsteps of Thy self-denying love, that I too may be consumed in blessing others. And thus, Lord! mightily establish my heart to be unblameable in holiness. Let self perish at Thy presence. Let Thy Holiness, giving itself to make the sinner holy, take entire possession, until my heart and life are sanctified wholly, and my whole spirit and soul and body be preserved blameless unto Thy coming. Amen. 1. Let us pray very earnestly that our interest in the study of holiness may not be a thing of the intellect or the emotions, but of the will and the life, seen of all men in the daily walk and conversation. 'Abounding in love,' 'unblameable in holiness,' will give favour with God and man. 2. 'God is Love;' Creation is the outflow of love. Redemption is the sacrifice and the triumph of love. Holiness is the fire of love. The beauty of the life of Jesus is love. All we enjoy of the Divine we owe to love. Our holiness is not God's, is not Christ's, if we do not love. 3. 'Love seeketh not its own.' 'Love never faileth.' 'Love is the fulfilling of the law.' 'The greatest of these is love.' 'The end of the commandment is love.' To love God and man is to be holy. In the intercourse of daily life, holiness can have its simple and sweet beginnings and its exercise; so, in its highest attainment, holiness is love made perfect. 4. Faith has all its worth from love, from the love of God, whence it draws and drinks, and the love to God and man which streams out of it. Let us be strong in faith, then shall we abound in love. 5. 'The love of God hath been shed abroad in our hearts by the Holy Ghost which was given unto us.' Let this be our confidence. Twenty-sixth Day. HOLY IN CHRIST. Holiness and the Will of God. 'This is _the will of God_, even your _sanctification_.'--1 Thess. iv. 3. 'Lo, I am come to do _Thy will_. By _which will_ we have been _sanctified_, through the offering of the body of Jesus Christ once for all.'--Heb. x. 9, 10. In the will of God we have the union of His Wisdom and Power. The Wisdom decides and declares what is to be: the Power secures the performance. The declarative will is only one side; its complement, the executive will, is the living energy in which everything good has its origin and existence. So long as we only look at the will of God in the former light, as law, we feel it a burden, because we have not the power to perform--it is too high for us. When faith looks to the Power that works in God's will, and carries it out, it has the courage to accept it and fulfil it, because it knows God Himself is working it out. The surrender in faith to the Divine will as Wisdom thus becomes the pathway to the experience of it as a Power. 'He doeth according to His will,' is then the language not only of forced submission, but of joyful expectation. 'This is the will of God, your sanctification.' In the ordinary acceptation of these words, they simply mean that among many other things that God has willed, sanctification is one; it is something in accordance with His will. This thought contains teaching of great value. God very distinctly and definitely has willed your sanctification: your sanctification has its source and certainty in its being God's will. We are 'elect in sanctification of the Spirit,' 'chosen to be holy;' the purpose of God's will from eternity, and His will now, is our sanctification. We have only to think of what we said of God's will being a Divine power that works out what His wisdom has chosen, to see what strength this truth will give to our faith that we shall be holy: God wills it, and will work it out for all and in all who do not resist it, but yield themselves to its power. Seek your sanctification, not only in the will of God, as a declaration of what He wants you to be, but as a revelation of what He Himself will work out in you. There is, however, another most precious thought suggested. If our sanctification be God's will, its central thought and its contents, _every part of that will_ must bear upon it, and the sure entrance to sanctification will be the hearty acceptance of the will of God in all things. To be one with God's will is to be holy. Let him who would be holy take his place here and 'stand in all the will of God.' He will there meet God Himself, and be made partaker of His Holiness, because His will works out its purpose in power to each one who yields himself to it. Everything in a life of holiness depends upon our being in the right relation to the will of God. There are many Christians to whom it appears impossible to think of their accepting all the will of God, or of their being one with it. They look upon the will of God in its thousand commands, and its numberless providential orderings. They have sometimes found it so hard to obey one single command, or to give up willingly to some light disappointment. They imagine that they would need to be a thousandfold holier and stronger in grace, before venturing to say that they do accept all God's will, whether to do or to bear. They cannot understand that all the difficulty comes from their not occupying the right standpoint. They are looking at God's will as at variance with their natural will, and they feel that that natural will will never delight in all God's will. They forget that the new man has a renewed will. This new will delights in the will of God, because it is born of it. This new will sees the beauty and the glory of God's will, and is in harmony with it. If they are indeed God's children, the very first impulse of the spirit of a child is surely to do the will of the Father in heaven. And they have but to yield themselves heartily and wholly to this spirit of sonship, and they need not fear to accept God's will as theirs. The mistake they make is a very serious one. Instead of living by faith they judge by feeling, in which the old nature speaks and rules. It tells them that God's will is often a burden too hard to be borne, and that they never can have the strength to do it. Faith speaks differently. It reminds us that God is Love, and that His will is nothing but Love revealed. It asks if we do not know that there is nothing more perfect or beautiful in heaven or earth than the will of God. It shows us how in our conversion we have already professed to accept God as Father and Lord. It assures us, above all, that if we will but definitely and trustingly give ourselves to that will which is Love, it will as Love fill our hearts and make us delight in it, and so become the power that enables us joyfully to do and to bear. Faith reveals to us that the will of God is the power of His love, working out its plan in Divine beauty in each one who wholly yields to it. And which shall we now choose? And where shall we take our place? Shall we attempt to accept Christ as a Saviour without accepting His will? Shall we profess to be the Father's children, and yet spend our life in debating how much of His will we shall perform? Shall we be content to go on from day to day with the painful consciousness that our will is not in harmony with God's will? Or shall we not at once and for ever give up our will as sinful to His,--to that Will which He has already written on our heart? This is a thing that is possible. It can be done. In a simple, definite transaction with God, we can say that we do accept His holy will to be ours. Faith knows that God will not pass such a surrender unnoticed, but accept it. In the trust that He now takes us up into His will, and undertakes to breathe it into us, with the love and the power to perform it--in this faith let us enter into God's will, and begin a new life; standing in, abiding in the very centre of this most holy will. Such an acceptance of God's will prepares the believer, through the Holy Spirit, to recognise and know that will in whatever form it comes. The great difference between the carnal and the spiritual Christian is that the latter acknowledges God, under whatever low and poor and human appearances He manifests Himself. When God comes in trials which can be traced to no hand but His, he says, 'Thy will be done.' When trials come through the weakness of men or his own folly, when circumstances appear unfavourable to his religious progress, and temptations threaten to be too much for him and to overcome him, he learns first of all to see God in everything, and still to say, 'Thy will be done.' He knows that a child of God cannot possibly be in any situation without the will of His Heavenly Father, even when that will has been to leave him to his own wilfulness for a time, or to suffer the consequences of his own or others' sin. He sees this, and in accepting his circumstances as the will of God to try and prove him, he is in the right position for now knowing and doing what is right. Seeing and honouring God's will thus in everything, he learns always to abide in that will. He does so also by doing that will. As his spiritual discernment grows to say of whatever happens, 'All things are of God,' so he grows too in wisdom and spiritual understanding to know the will of God as it is to be done. In the indications of conscience and of Providence, in the teaching of the word and the Spirit, he learns to see how God's will has reference to every part and duty of life, and it becomes his joy, in all things, to live, 'doing the will of God from the heart, as unto the Lord and not unto men.' 'Labouring fervently in prayer to stand complete and fully assured in all the will of God,' he finds how blessedly the Father has accepted his surrender, and supplies all the light and strength that is needed that His will may be done by him on earth as it is in heaven. Let me ask every reader to say to a Holy God, whether he has indeed given himself to Him to be made holy? Whether he has accepted, and entered into, and is living in, the good and perfect will of God? The question is not, whether, when affliction comes, he accepts the inevitable and submits to a will he cannot resist. But whether he has chosen the will of God as his chief good, and has taken the life-principle of Christ to be his: 'I delight to do Thy will, O God.' This was the holiness of Christ, in which He sanctified Himself and us, the doing God's will. 'In which will we have been sanctified.' It is this will of God which is our sanctification. Brother! are you in earnest to be holy? wholly possessed of God? Here is the path. I plead with you not to be afraid or to hold back. You have taken God to be your God; have you really taken His will to be your will? Oh, think of the privilege, the blessedness, of having one will with God! and fear not to surrender yourself to it most unreservedly. The will of God is, in every part of it, and in all its Divine power, your sanctification. BE YE HOLY, AS I AM HOLY. Blessed Father! I come to say that I see that Thy will is my sanctification, and there alone I would seek it. Graciously grant that, by Thy Holy Spirit which dwelleth in me, the glory of that will, and the blessedness of abiding in it, may be fully revealed to me. Teach me to know it as the Will of Love, purposing always what is the very best and most blest for Thy child. Teach me to know it as the Will of Omnipotence, able to work out its every counsel in me. Teach me to know it in Christ, fulfilled perfectly on my behalf. Teach me to know it as what the Spirit wills and works in each one who yields to Him. O my Father! I acknowledge Thy claim to have Thy will alone done, and am here for it to do with me as Thou pleasest. With my whole heart I enter into it, to be one with it for ever. Thy Holy Spirit can maintain this oneness without interruption. I trust Thee, my Father, step by step, to let the light of Thy will shine in my heart and on my path, through that Spirit. May this be the holiness in which I live, that I forget and lose self in pleasing and honouring Thee. Amen. 1. Make it a study, in meditation and prayer and worship, to get a full impression of the Majesty, the Perfection, the Glory of the Will of God, with the privilege and possibility of living in it. 2. Study it, too, as the expression of an infinite Love and Fatherliness; its every manifestation full of loving-kindness. Every providence is _God's will_; whatever happens, meet God in it in humble worship. Every precept is _God's will_; meet God in it with loving obedience. Every promise is _God's will_; meet God in it with full trust. A life in the will of God is rest and strength and blessing. 3. And forget not, above all, to believe in its Omnipotent Power. _He worketh all things after the counsel of His will._ In nature and those who resist Him, without their consent. In His children, according to their faith, and as far as they will it. Do believe that the will of God will work out its counsel in you, as you trust it to do so. 4. This will is Infinite Benevolence and Beneficence revealed in the self-sacrifice of Jesus. Live for others: so can you become an instrument for the Divine will to use (Matt. xviii. 14; John vi. 39, 40). Yield yourselves to this redeeming will of God, that it may get full possession, and work out through you too its saving purpose. 5. Christ is just the embodiment of God's will: He is, God's will done. Abide in Him, by abiding in, by doing heartily and always, the will of God. A Christian is, like Christ, a man given up to the Will of God. Twenty-seventh Day. HOLY IN CHRIST. Holiness and Service. 'If a man therefore cleanse himself from these, he shall be a vessel unto honour, _sanctified_, meet _for the Master's use_, prepared _unto every good work_.'--2 Tim. ii. 21. 'A _holy_ priesthood, to offer up spiritual sacrifices. A _holy_ nation, that ye may _show forth the excellences of Him_ who called you out of darkness into His marvellous light.'--1 Pet. ii. 5, 9. Through the whole of Scripture we have seen that whatever God sanctifies is to be used in the service of His Holiness. His Holiness is an infinite energy that only finds its rest in making holy: to the revelation of what He is in Himself, 'I the Lord _am holy_,' God continually adds the declaration of what He does, 'I am the Lord that _make holy_.' Holiness is a burning fire that extends itself, that seeks to consume what is unholy, and to communicate its own blessedness to all that will receive it. Holiness and selfishness, holiness and inactivity, holiness and sloth, holiness and helplessness, are utterly irreconcilable. Whatever we read of as holy, was taken into the service of the Holiness of God. Let us just look back on the revelation of what is holy in Scripture. The seventh day was made holy, that in it God might make His people holy. The tabernacle was holy, to serve as a dwelling for the Holy One, as the centre whence His Holiness might manifest itself to the people. The altar was most holy, that it might sanctify the gifts laid on it. The priests with their garments, the house with its furniture and vessels, the sacrifices and the blood,--whatever bore the name of holy had a use and a purpose. Of Israel, whom God redeemed from Egypt that they might be a _holy_ nation, God said, 'Let my people go, that they may _serve_ me.' The holy angels, the holy prophets and apostles, the holy Scriptures,--all bore the title as having been sanctified for the service of God. Our Lord speaks of Himself 'as the Son, whom the Father _sanctified and sent_ into the world.' And when He says, 'I sanctify myself,' He adds at once the purpose: it is in the service of the Father and His redeemed ones,--'that they themselves may be sanctified in truth.' And can it be thought possible, now that God, in Christ the Holy One, and in the Holy Spirit, is accomplishing His purpose, and gathering a people of saints, 'holy ones,' 'made holy in Christ,' that now holiness and service would be put asunder? Impossible! Here first we shall fully realize how essential they are to each other. Let us try and grasp their mutual relation. We are only made holy that we may serve. We can only serve as we are holy. _Holiness is essential to effectual service._ In the Old Testament we see degrees of holiness, not only in the holy places, but as much in the holy persons. In the nation, the Levites, the priests, and then the High Priest, there is an advance from step to step: as in each succeeding stage the circle narrows, and the service is more direct and entire, so the holiness required is higher and more distinct. It is even so in this more spiritual dispensation: the more of holiness, the greater the fitness for service; the more there is of true holiness, the more there is of God, and the more true and deep is the entrance He has had into the soul. The hold He has on the soul to use it in His service is more complete. In the Church of Christ there is a vast amount of work done which yields very little fruit. Many throw themselves into work in whom there is but little true holiness, little of the Holy Spirit. They often work most diligently, and, as far as human influence is concerned, most successfully. And yet true spiritual results in the building up of a holy temple in the Lord are but few. The Lord cannot work in them, because He has not the mastery of their inner life. His personal indwelling and fellowship, the rest of His Holy Presence, His Holiness reigning and ruling in the heart and life,--to all these they are comparative strangers. It has been rightly said that work is the cure for spiritual poverty and disease; to some believers who had been seeking holiness apart from service, the call to work has been an unspeakable blessing. But to many it has only been an additional blind to cover up the terrible want of heart-holiness and heart-fellowship with the living God. They have thrown themselves into work more earnestly than ever, and yet have not in their heart the rest-giving and refreshing witness that their work is acceptable and accepted. My brother! listen to the message. 'If a man _cleanse_ himself, he shall be a vessel unto honour, _sanctified_, _meet_ for the Master's use, _prepared_ unto every good work.' You cannot have the law of service more clearly or beautifully laid down. A vessel of honour, one whom the King will delight to honour, must be a vessel _cleansed_ from all defilement of flesh and spirit. Then only can it be a _sanctified_ vessel, possessed and indwelt by God's Holy Spirit. So it becomes _meet for the Master's use_. He can use it, and work in it, and wield it. And so, clean and holy, and yielded into the Master's hands, we are Divinely prepared for every good work. Holiness is essential to service. If service is to be acceptable to God, and effectual for its work on souls, and to be a joy and a strength to ourselves, we must be holy. The will of God must first live in us, if it is to be done by us. How many faithful workers there are, mourning the want of power; longing and praying for it, and yet not obtaining it! They have spent their strength more in the outer court of work and service, than in the inner life of fellowship and faith. They truly have never understood that only as the Master gets possession of them, as the Holy Spirit has them at His disposal, can He use them, can they have true power. They often long and cry for what they call a baptism of power. They forget that the way to have God's power in us is for ourselves to be in His power. Put yourself into the power of God; let His holy will live in you; live in it and in obedience to it, as one who has no power to dispose of himself; let the Holy Spirit dwell within, as in His Holy Temple, revealing the Holy One on the throne, ruling all; He will without fail use you as a vessel of honour, sanctified and meet for the Master's use. Holiness is essential to effectual service. _And service is no less essential to true holiness._ We have repeated it so often: Holiness is an energy, an intense energy of desire and self-sacrifice, to make others partakers of its own purity and perfection. Christ sacrificed Himself--wherein did that sacrifice consist, and what was its aim? He sanctified Himself that we might be sanctified too. A holiness that is selfish is a delusion. True holiness, God's holiness in us, works itself out in love, in seeking and loving the unholy, that they may become holy too. Self-sacrificing love is of the very essence of holiness. The Holy One of Israel is its Redeemer. The Holy One of God is the dying Saviour. The Holy Spirit of God makes holy. There is no holiness in God but what is most actively engaged in loving and saving and blessing. It must be so in us too. Let every thought of holiness, every act of faith or prayer, every effort in pursuit of it, be animated by the desire and the surrender to the Holiness of God for use in the attaining of its object. Let your whole life be one distinctly and definitely given up to God for His use and service. Your circumstances may appear to be unfavourable. God may appear to keep the door closed against your working for Him in the way you would wish; your sense of unfitness may be painful. Still, let it be a matter settled between God and the soul, that your longing for holiness is that you may be fitter for Him to use, and that what He has given you of His Holiness in Christ and the Spirit is all at His disposal, waiting to be used. Be ready for Him to use; live out, in a daily life of humble, self-denying, loving service of others, what grace you have received. You will find that in the union and interchange of worship and work, God's Holiness will rest upon you. 'The Father _sanctified_ the Son, _and sent_ Him into the world.' The world is the place for the sanctified one, to be its light, its salt, its life. We are 'sanctified in Christ Jesus,' and sent into the world too. Oh, let us not fear to accept our position--our double position; in the world, and in Christ! In the world, with its sin and sorrow, with its thousands of needs touching us at every point, and its millions of souls all waiting for us. And in Christ too. For the sake of that world we 'have been sanctified in Christ,' we are 'holy in Christ,' we have 'the spirit of sanctification' dwelling in us. As a holy salt in a sinful world, let us give ourselves to our holy calling. Let us come nearer and nearer to God who has called us. Let us root deeper and deeper in Christ our sanctification, in whom we are of God. Let us enter more firmly and more fully into that faith in Him in whom we are, by which our whole life will be covered and taken up in His. Let us beseech the Father to teach us that His Holy Spirit does dwell in us every moment, making, if we live by faith, Christ with His Holiness, our home, our abode, our sure defence, and our infinite supply. As He which hath called us is holy, let us be holy in His own Son, through His own Spirit, and the fire of His Holy Love will work through us its work of judging and condemning, of saving and sanctifying. A sanctified soul God will use to save. BE YE HOLY, AS I AM HOLY. Blessed Master! I thank Thee for being anew reminded of the purpose of Thy Redeeming Love. Thou gavest Thyself that Thou mightest cleanse for Thyself a people of Thine own, zealous in good works. Thou wouldest make of each of us a vessel of honour, cleansed and sanctified, meet for Thy use, and prepared for every good work. Blessed Lord! write the lessons of Thy word deep in my heart. Teach me and all Thy people that if we would work for Thee, if we would have Thee work in us, and use us, we must be very holy, holy as God is holy. And that if we would be holy, we must be serving Thee. It is Thy own Spirit, by which Thou dost sanctify us to use us, and dost sanctify in using. To be entirely possessed of Thee is the path to sanctity and service both. Most Holy Saviour! we are in Thee as our sanctification: in Thee we would abide. In the rest of a faith that trusts Thee for all, in the power of a surrender that would have no will but Thine, in a love that would lose itself to be wholly Thine, Blessed Jesus, we do abide in Thee. In Thee we are holy: in Thee we shall bear much fruit. Oh, be pleased to perfect Thine own work in us! Amen. 1. It is difficult to make it clear in words how growth in holiness will simply reveal itself as an increasing simplicity and self-forgetfulness, accompanied by the restful and most blessed assurance that God has complete possession of us and will use us. We pass from the stage in which work presses as an obligation; it becomes the joy of fruit-bearing; faith's assurance that He is working out His will through us. 2. It has sometimes been said that people might be better employed in working for God than attending Holiness Conventions. This is surely a misunderstanding. It was before the throne of the Thrice Holy One, and as he heard the Seraphim sing of God's Holiness, that the prophet said, 'Here am I, send me.' As the mission of Moses, and Isaiah, and the Son, whom the Father _sanctified and sent_, each had its origin in the revelation of God's Holiness, our missions will receive new power as they are more directly born out of the worship of God as the Holy One, and baptized into the Spirit of Holiness. 3. Let every worker take time to hear God's double call. If you would work, be very holy. If you would be holy, give yourself to God to use in His work. 4. Note the connection between 'sanctified' and 'meet for _the Master's use_.' True holiness is being possessed of God; true service being used of God. How much service there is in which we are the chief agents, and ask God to help and to bless us. True service is being yielded up to the Master _for Him to use_. Then the Holy Ghost is the Agent, and we are the Instruments of His will. Such service is Holiness. 5. 'I sanctify _Myself_, that _they also_:' a reference to others is the root principle of all true holiness. Twenty-eighth Day. HOLY IN CHRIST. The Way into the Holiest. 'Having therefore, brethren, boldness to enter into _the Holiest_ by _the blood_ of Jesus, by _the way_ which He dedicated, a new and living way, through the veil, that is to say, His flesh: and having a _great Priest_ over the house of God; let us draw near with a true heart, in fulness of faith.'--Heb. x. 19-22. When the High Priest once a year entered into the second tabernacle within the veil, it was, we are told in the Epistle to the Hebrews, 'the Holy Ghost signifying that the way into _the Holiest of all_ was not yet made manifest.' When Christ died, the veil was rent; all who were serving in the holy place had free access at once into the Most Holy; the way into the Holiest of all was opened up. When the Epistle passes over to its practical application (x. 19), all its teaching is summed up in the words: 'Having therefore, brethren, boldness to enter into _the Holiest_, let us draw near.' Christ's redemption has opened the way to the Holiest of all: our acceptance of it must lead to nothing less than our drawing near and entering in. The words of our text suggest to us four very precious thoughts in regard to the place of access, the right of access, the way of access, the power of access. _The place of access._ Whither are we invited to draw nigh? 'Having boldness to enter into _the Holiest_.' The priests in Israel might enter the holy place, but were always kept excluded from the Holiest, God's immediate presence. The rent veil proclaimed liberty of access into that Presence. It is there that believers as a royal priesthood are now to live and walk. Within the veil, in the very Holiest of all, in the same place, the heavenlies, in which God dwells, in God's very Presence, is to be our abode--our home. Some speak as if the, 'Let us draw near,' meant prayer, and that in our special approach to God in acts of worship we enter the Holiest. No; great as this privilege is, God has meant something for us infinitely greater. We are to draw near, and dwell always, to live our life and do our work within the sphere, the atmosphere, of the inner sanctuary. It is God's Presence makes holy ground; God's immediate Presence in Christ makes any place the Holiest of all: and this is it into which we are to draw nigh, and in which we are to abide. There is not a single moment of the day, there is not a circumstance or surrounding, in which the believer may not be kept dwelling in the secret place of the Most High. As by faith he enters into the completeness of his reconciliation with God, and the reality of his oneness with Christ, as he thus, abiding in Christ, yields to the Holy Spirit to reveal within the Presence of the Holy One, the Holiest of all is around him, he is indeed in it. With an uninterrupted access he draws near.[13] _The right of access._ The thought comes up, and the question is asked: Is this not simply an ideal? can it be a reality, an experience in daily life to those who know how sinful their nature is? Blessed be God! it is meant to be. It is possible, because our right of access rests not in what we are, but in the blood of Jesus. 'Having _boldness_ to enter into the Holiest _by the blood_ of Jesus, let us draw near.' In the Passover we saw how redemption, and the holiness it aimed at, were dependent on the blood. In the sanctuary, God's dwelling, we know how in each part, the court, the holy place, the Most Holy, the sprinkling of blood was what alone secured access to God. And now that the blood of Jesus has been shed--oh! in what Divine power, what intense reality, what everlasting efficacy, we now have access into the Holiest of all, the Most Holy of God's heart and His love! We are indeed brought nigh by the blood. We have boldness to enter by the blood. 'The worshippers, being once cleansed, have no more conscience of sins.' Walking in the light, the blood of Jesus cleanses in the power of an endless life, with a cleansing that never ceases. No consciousness of unworthiness or remaining sinfulness need hinder the boldness of access: the liberty to draw near rests in the never-failing, ever-acting, ever-living efficacy of the Precious Blood. It is possible for a believer to dwell in the Holiest of all. _The way of access._ It is often thought that what is said of _the new and living way_, dedicated for us by Jesus, means nothing different from the boldness through His blood. This is not the case. The words mean a great deal more. 'Having boldness _by the blood_ of Jesus, let us draw near _by the way_ which He dedicated for us.' That is, He opened for us a way to walk in, as He walked in it, 'a new and living way, through the veil, that is to say, His flesh.' The way in which Christ walked when He gave His blood, is the very same in which we must walk too. That way is the way of the Cross. There must not only be faith in Christ's sacrifice, but fellowship with Him in it. That way led to the rending of the veil of the flesh, and so through the rent veil of the flesh, in to God. And was the veil of Christ's holy flesh rent that the veil of our sinful flesh might be spared? Verily, no. He meant us to walk in the very same way in which He did, following closely after Himself. He dedicated for us a new and living way through the veil, that is, His flesh. As we go in through the rent veil of _His flesh_, we find in it at once the need and the power for our flesh being rent too: following Jesus ever means conformity to Jesus. It is Jesus with the rent flesh, in whom we are, in whom we walk.[14] There is no way to God but through the rending of the flesh. In acceptance of Christ's life and death by faith as the power that works in us, in the power of the Spirit which makes us truly one with Christ, we all follow Christ as He passes on through the rent veil, that is, His flesh, and become partakers with Him of His crucifixion and death. The way of the cross, 'by which I have been crucified,' is the way through the rent veil. Man's destiny, fellowship with God in the power of the Holy Spirit, is only reached through the sacrifice of the flesh. And here we find now the solution of a great mystery--why so many Christians remain standing afar off, and never enter this Holiest of all; why the holiness of God's Presence is so little seen on them. They thought that it was only in Christ that the flesh needed to be rent, not in themselves. They thought that the liberty they had in the blood was the new and living way. They knew not that the way into true and full holiness, into the Holiest of all, that the full entrance into the fellowship of the holiness of the Great High Priest, was only to be reached through the rent veil of the flesh, through conformity to the death of Jesus. This is in very deed the way He dedicated for us. He is Himself the way; into His self-denial, His self-sacrifice, His crucifixion, He takes up all who long to be holy with His Holiness, holy as He is holy. _The power of access._ Does any one shrink back from entering the very Holiest for fear of this rending of the flesh, because he doubts whether he could bear it, whether he could indeed walk in such a path? Let him listen once more. Hear what follows: 'And _having a Great Priest_ over the House of God, let us draw near.' We have not only the Holiest of all inviting us, and the blood giving us boldness, and the way through the rent veil consecrated for us, but the Great Priest over the House of God, the Blessed Living Saviour, to draw, to help, and to welcome us. He is our Aaron. On His heart we see our name, because He only lives to think of us, and pray for us. On His forehead we see God's name, 'Holy to the Lord,' because in His Holiness the sins of our holy things are covered. _In Him_ we are accepted and sanctified; God receives us as holy ones. In the power of His love and His Spirit, in the power of Him the Holy One, in the joy of drawing nearer to Him and being drawn by Him, we gladly accept the way He has dedicated, and walk in His holy footsteps of self-denial and self-sacrifice. We see how the flesh is the thick veil that separates from the Holy One who is a Spirit, and it becomes an unceasing and most fervent prayer, that the crucifixion of the flesh may, in the power of the Holy Spirit, be in us a blessed reality. With the glory of the Holiest of all shining out on us through the opened veil, and the Precious Blood speaking so loudly of boldness of access, and the Great Priest beckoning us with His loving Presence to draw near and be blessed,--with all this, we dare no longer fear, but choose the way of the rent veil as the path we love to tread, and give ourselves to enter in and dwell within the veil, in the very Holiest of all. And so our life here will be the earnest of the glory that is to come, as it is written--note how we have the four great thoughts of our text over again--'These are they which came out of great tribulation,' that is, by the way of the rent flesh; 'and they washed their robes, and made them white in the blood of the Lamb,' their boldness through the blood; 'therefore are they before the throne of God,' their dwelling in the Holiest of all; 'the Lamb, which is in the midst of the throne, shall be their Shepherd,' the Great Priest still the Shepherd, Jesus Himself their all in all. Brother! do you see what holiness is, and how it is to be found? It is not something wrought in yourself. It is not something put on you from without. Holiness is the Presence of God resting on you. Holiness comes as you consciously abide in that Presence, doing all your work, and living all your life as a sacrifice to Him, acceptable through Jesus Christ, sanctified by the Holy Ghost. Oh, be no longer fearful, as if this life were not for you! Look to Jesus; having a Great Priest over the House of God, let us draw near. Be occupied with Jesus. Our Brother has charge of the Temple; He has liberty to show us all, to lead us into the secret of the Father's presence. The entire management of the Temple has been given into His hands with this very purpose, that all the feeble and doubting ones might come with confidence. Only trust yourself to Jesus, to His leading and keeping. Only trust Jesus, God's Holy One, your Holy One; it is His delight to reveal to you what He has purchased with His blood. Trust Him to teach you the ordinances of the sanctuary. 'That thou mayest know how thou oughtest to behave thyself in the House of God,' He has been given. _Having a Great Priest_, let us enter in, let us dwell in the Holiest of all. In the power of the blood, in the power of the new and living way, in the power of the Living Jesus, let the Holiest of all, the Presence of God, be the home of our soul. You are 'Holy in Christ;' in Christ you are in God's Holy Presence and Love; just stay there. BE HOLY, FOR I AM HOLY. Most Holy God! how shall I praise Thee for the liberty to enter into the Holiest of all, and dwell there? And for the precious Blood, that brings us nigh? And for the new and living way, through the rent veil of that flesh which had separated us from Thee, in which my flesh now too has been crucified? And for the Great Priest over the House of God, our Living Lord Jesus, with Whom and in Whom we appear before Thee? Glory be to Thy Holy Name for this wonderful and most complete redemption. I beseech Thee, O my God! give me, and all Thy children, some right sense of how really and surely we may live each day, may spend our whole life, within the veil, in Thine own Immediate Presence. Give us the spirit of revelation, I pray Thee, that we may see how, through the rent veil, the glory of Thy Presence streameth forth from the Most Holy into the holy place; how, in the pouring out of the Holy Spirit, the kingdom of heaven came to earth, and all who yield themselves to that Spirit may know that in Christ they are indeed so near, so very near to Thee. O Blessed Father! let Thy Spirit teach us that this indeed is the holy life: a life in Christ the Holy One, always in the Light and the Presence of Thy Holy Majesty. Most Holy God! I draw nigh. In the power of the Holy Spirit I enter in. I am now in the Holiest of all. And here I would abide in Jesus, my Great Priest--here, in the Holiest of all. Amen. 1. To abide in Christ is to dwell in the Holiest of all. Christ is not only the Sacrifice, and the Way, and the Great Priest, but also Himself the Temple. 'The Lamb is the Temple.' As the Holy Spirit reveals my union to Christ more clearly, and heart and will lose themselves in Him, I dwell in the Holy Presence, which is the Holiest of all. You are 'holy in Christ'--draw near, enter in with boldness, and take possession--have no home but in the Holiest of all. 2. 'Christ loved the Church, and gave Himself for it, that He might sanctify it.' _He gave Himself!_ Have you caught the force of that word? Because He would have no one else do it, because none could do it; to sanctify His Church, _He gave Himself_ to do it. And so it is His own special beloved work to sanctify the Church He loved. Just accept Himself to do it. He can and will make you holy, that He may present you to _Himself_ glorious, without spot or wrinkle. Let that word _Himself_ live in you. The whole life and walk in the House of God is in His charge. _Having_ a Great Priest, let us draw near. 3. This entrance into the Holiest of all--an ever fresh and ever deeper entrance--is, at the same time, an ever blessed resting in the Father's Presence. Faith in the blood, following in the way of the rent flesh, and fellowship with the Living Jesus, are the three chief steps. 4. Enter into the Holiest of all, and dwell there. It will enter into thee, and transform thee, and dwell in thee. And thy heart will be the Holiest of all, in which He dwells. 5. Have we not at times been lifted, by an effort of thought and will, or in the fellowship of the saints, into what seemed the Holiest of all, and speedily felt that the flesh had entered there too? It was because we entered not by the new way of life--the way through death to life--the way of the rent veil of the flesh. O our crucified Lord! teach us what this means; give it us; be it Thyself to us. 6. Let me remember that my access into the Holiest is as a Priest. Let me dwell before the Lord all the day as an Intercessor, offering, unceasingly, pleadings which are acceptable in Christ. May God's Church be like her of whom it is written, 'She departed not from the temple, but served God with fastings and prayers night and day.' It is for this we have access to the Holiest of all. [13] So near, so very near to God, I cannot nearer be; For in the person of His Son, I am as near as He. [14] 'Christ suffered, that He might bring us to God, being put to death in the flesh, but quickened in the Spirit.' 'Forasmuch then as Christ suffered in the flesh, arm ye yourselves also with the same mind.' The flesh and the Spirit are antagonistic: as the flesh dies, the Spirit lives. Twenty-ninth Day. HOLY IN CHRIST. Holiness and Chastisement. 'He chasteneth us for our profit, that we may be partakers of _His holiness_. Follow after _sanctification_, without which no man shall see the Lord.'--Heb. xii. 10, 14. There is perhaps no part of God's word which sheds such Divine light upon suffering as the Epistle to the Hebrews. It does this because it teaches us what suffering was to the Son of God. It perfected His humanity. It so fitted Him for His work as the Compassionate High Priest. It proved that He, who had fulfilled God's will in suffering obedience, was indeed worthy to be its executor in glory, and to sit down on the right hand of the Majesty on high. 'It became God, in bringing many sons unto glory, to make the Author of their salvation _perfect_ through _sufferings_.' 'Though He was a Son, yet _learned_ He _obedience_ by the things which He _suffered_, and having been made _perfect_, became the Author of eternal salvation to all them that obey Him.' As He said Himself of His suffering, 'I sanctify myself,' so we see here that His sufferings were indeed to Him the pathway to perfection and holiness. What Christ was and won was all for us. The power which suffering was proved to have in Him to work out perfection, the power which He imparted to it in sanctifying Himself through suffering, is the power of the new life that comes from Him to us. In the light of His example we can see, in the faith of His power we too can prove, that suffering is to God's child the token of the Father's love, and the channel of His richest blessing. To such faith the apparent mystery of suffering is seen to be nothing but a Divine need--the light affliction that works out--yea, _works out_ and actually effects the exceeding weight of glory. We agree not only to what is written, 'It _became_ Him to make the Author of salvation perfect through suffering,' but understand somewhat how Divinely becoming and meet it is that we too should be sanctified by suffering. 'He chasteneth us for our profit, that we should be made partakers of His holiness.' Of all the precious words Holy Scripture has for the sorrowful, there is hardly one that leads us more directly and more deeply into the fulness of blessing that suffering is meant to bring. It is _His Holiness_, God's own Holiness, we are to be made partakers of. The Epistle had spoken very clearly of our sanctification from its Divine side, as wrought out for us, and to be wrought in us, by Jesus Himself. 'He which sanctifieth and they which are sanctified are all of one.' 'We have been sanctified by the one offering of Christ.' In our text we have the other side, the progressive work by which we are personally to accept and voluntarily to appropriate this Divine Holiness. In view of all there is in us that is at variance with God's will, and that must be discovered and broken down, before we understand what it is to give up our will and delight in God's; in view of the personal fellowship of suffering which alone can lead to the full appreciation of what Jesus bore and did for us; in view, too, of the full personal entrance into and satisfaction with the love of God as our sufficient portion; chastisement and suffering are indispensable elements in God's work of making holy. In these three aspects we shall see how what the Son needed is what we need, how what was of such unspeakable value to the Son will to us be no less rich in blessing. _Chastisement leads to the acceptance of God's will._ We have seen how God's will is our sanctification; how it is in the will of God Christ has sanctified us; yea more, how He found the power to sanctify us in sanctifying Himself by the entire surrender of His will to God. His 'I delight to do Thy will' derived its worth from His continual 'Not my will.' And wherever God comes with chastisement or suffering, the very first object He has in view is, to ask and to work in us union with His own blessed will, that through it we may have union with Himself and His love. He comes in some one single point in which His will crosses our most cherished affection or desire, and asks the surrender of what we will to what He wills. When this is done willingly and lovingly, He leads the soul on to see how the claim for the sacrifice in the individual matter is the assertion of a principle--that in everything His will is to be our one desire. Happy the soul to whom affliction is not a series of single acts of conflict and submission to single acts of His will, but an entrance into the school where we prove and approve all the good and perfect and acceptable will of God. It has sometimes appeared, even to God's children, as if affliction were not a blessing: it so rouses the evil nature, and calls forth all the opposition of the heart against God's will, that it has brought the loss of the peace and the piety that once appeared to reign. Even in such cases it is working out God's purpose. 'That He might humble thee, to prove thee, to know what was in thine heart,' is still His object in leading into the wilderness. To an extent we are not aware of, our religion is often selfish and superficial: when we accept the teaching of chastisement in discovering the self-will and love of the world which still prevails, we have learnt one of its first and most needful lessons. This lesson has special difficulty when the trial does not come direct from God, but through men or circumstances. In looking at second causes, and in seeking for their removal, in the feeling of indignation or of grief, we often entirely forget to see God's will in everything His Providence allows. As long as we do so, the chastisement is fruitless; and perhaps only hardens the more. If, in our study of the pathway of Holiness, there has been awakened in us the desire to accept and adore, and stand complete in, _all the will_ of God, let us in the very first place seek to recognise that will in everything that comes on us. The sin of him who vexes us is not God's will. But it is God's will that we should be in that position of difficulty to be tried and tested. Let our first thought be: this position of difficulty is my Father's will for me: I accept that will as my place now where He sees it fit to try me. Such acceptance of the trial is the way to turn it into blessing. It will lead on to an ever clearer abiding in all the will of God all the day. _Chastisement leads to the fellowship of God's Son._ The will of God out of Christ is a law we cannot fulfil. The will of God in Christ is a life that fills us. He came in the name of our fallen humanity, and accepted all God's will as it rested on us, both in the demands of the law, and in the consequences which sin had brought upon man. He gave Himself entirely to God's will, whatever it cost Him. And so He paved for us a way through suffering, not only through it in the sense of past it and out of it, but by means and in virtue of it, into the love and glory of the Father. And it is in the power which Christ gives in fellowship with Himself that we too can love the way of the Cross, as the best and most blessed way to the Crown. Scripture says that the will of God is our sanctification, and also that Christ is our Sanctification. It is only in Christ that we have the power to love and rejoice in the will of God. In Him we have the power. He became our Sanctification once for all by delighting to do that will; He becomes our Sanctification in personal experience, by teaching us to delight to do it. He learned to do it; He could not become perfect in doing it otherwise than by suffering. In suffering He draws nigh; He makes our suffering the fellowship of His suffering; and in it makes Himself, who was perfected through suffering, our Sanctification. O ye suffering ones! all ye whom the Father is chastening! come and see Jesus suffering, giving up His will, being made perfect, sanctifying Himself. _His suffering is the secret of His Holiness, of His Glory, of His Life._ Will you not thank God for anything that can admit you into the nearer fellowship of your blessed Lord? Shall we not accept every trial, great or small, as the call of His love to be one with Himself in living only for God's will. This is Holiness, to be one with Jesus as He does the will of God, to abide in Jesus who was made perfect through suffering. _Chastisement leads to the enjoyment of God's love._ Many a father has been surprised as he made his first experience of how a child, after being punished in love, began to cling to him more tenderly than before. Even so, while to those who live at a distance from their Father, the misery in this world appears to be the one thing that shakes their faith in God's Love, it is just through suffering that His children learn to know the Reality of that Love. The chastening is so distinctly a father's prerogative; it leads so directly to the confession of its needfulness and its lovingness; it wakens so powerfully the longing for pardon and comfort and deliverance, that it does indeed become, strange though this may seem, one of the surest guides into the deeper experience of the Divine Love. Chastening is the school in which the blessed lesson is learnt that the will of God is all Love, and that Holiness is the fire of Love, consuming that it may purify, destroying the dross only that it may assimilate into its own perfect purity all that yields itself to the wondrous change. 'We know and have believed the love which God hath in us. God is love: and he that abideth in love abideth in God, and God in Him.' Man's destiny is fellowship with God, the fellowship, the mutual indwelling of love. It is only by faith that this Love of God can be known. And faith can only grow by exercise, can only thrive in trial: when visible things fail, its energy is roused to yield itself to be possessed by the Invisible, by the Divine. Chastisement is the nurse of faith; one of its chosen attendants, to lead deeper into the Love of God. This is the new and living way, the way of the rent flesh in fellowship with Jesus leading up into the Holiest of all. There it is seen how the Justice that will not spare the child, and the Love that sustains and sanctifies it, are both one in the Holiness of God. 0 ye chastened saints! who are so specially being led in the way that goes through the rent veil of the flesh, you have boldness to enter in. Draw near; come and dwell in the Holiest of all. Make your abode in the Holiest of all: there you are made partakers of _His_ Holiness. Chastisement is bringing your heart into unity with God's Will, God's Son, God's Love. Abide in God's Will. Abide in God's Son. Abide in God's Love. Dwell, within the veil, in the Holiest of all. BE YE HOLY, AS I AM HOLY. Most Holy God! once again I bless Thee for the wondrous revelation of Thy Holiness. Not only have I heard Thee speak, 'I am holy,' but Thou hast invited me to fellowship with Thyself: 'Be holy, as I am holy.' Blessed be Thy name! I have heard more even: 'I make holy,' is Thy word of promise, pledging Thine own Power to work out the purpose of Thy Love. I do thank Thee for what Thou hast revealed in Thy Son, in Thy Spirit, in Thy Word, of the path of Holiness. But how shall I bless Thee for the lesson of this day, that there is not a loss or sorrow, not a pain or care, not a temptation or trial, but Thy love also means it, and makes it, to be a help in working out the holiness of Thy people. Through each Thou drawest to Thyself, that they may taste how, in accepting Thy Will of Love, there is blessing and deliverance. Blessed Father! Thou knowest how often I have looked upon the circumstances and the difficulties of this life as hindrances. Oh, let them all, in the light of Thy holy purpose to make us partakers of Thy Holiness, in the light of Thy Will and Thy Love, from this hour be helps. Let, above all, the path of Thy Blessed Son, proving how suffering is the discipline of a Father's love, and surrender the secret of holiness, and sacrifice the entrance to the Holiest of all, be so revealed that in the power of His Spirit and His grace that path may become mine. Let even chastening, even the least, be from Thine own hand, making me partaker of Thy Holiness. Amen. 1. How wonderful the revelation in the Epistle to the Hebrews of the holiness and the holy making power of suffering, as seen in the Son of God! 'He _learned obedience_ by the things which He suffered.' 'It became God to make the Author of our salvation _perfect_ through suffering, for both He that sanctifieth and they who are sanctified are all of one.' 'In that He Himself hath suffered, He is _able to succour_.' 'We behold Jesus, because of the suffering of death, _crowned with glory_ and honour.' Suffering is the way of the rent veil, the new and living way Jesus walked in and opened for us. Let all sufferers study this. Let all who are 'holy in Christ' here learn to know the Christ _in whom_ they are holy, and the way in which He sanctified Himself and sanctifies us. 2. If we begin by realizing the sympathy of Jesus with us in our suffering, it will lead us on to what is more: sympathy with Jesus in His suffering, fellowship with Him to suffer even as He did. 3. Let suffering and holiness be inseparably linked, as in God's mind and in Christ's person, so in your life through the Spirit. 'It became God to make Him perfect through suffering; for both He that sanctifieth and they who are sanctified are all of one.' Let _every trial_, small or great, be the touch of God's hand, laying hold on you, to lead you to holiness. Give yourself into that hand. 4. 'Insomuch as ye are partakers of _Christ's sufferings_, rejoice; for _the Spirit of glory_ and of God resteth on you.' Thirtieth Day. HOLY IN CHRIST. The Unction from the Holy One. 'And ye have _an anointing from the Holy One_, and ye know all things. And as for you, the anointing which ye received of Him abideth in you, and ye need not that any one teach you; but as His anointing teacheth you concerning all things, and is true, and is no lie, and even as it taught you, ye abide in Him.'--1 John ii. 20, 27. In the revelation by Moses of God's Holiness and His way of making holy, the priests, and specially the high priests, were the chief expression of God's Holiness in man. In the priests themselves, the holy anointing oil was the one great symbol of the grace that made holy. Moses was to make an holy anointing oil: 'And thou shalt take of the anointing oil, and sprinkle it upon Aaron and upon his sons, and he shall be hallowed, and his sons with him.' 'This shall be an holy anointing oil unto me. Upon man's flesh shall it not be poured; neither shall ye make any other like it; it is holy, it shall be holy unto you' (Exod. xxix. 21, xxx. 25-32). With this the priests, and specially the high priests, were to be anointed and consecrated: 'He that is the high priest among you, upon whose head the anointing oil was poured, shall not go out of the holy place, nor profane the holy place of his God; for _the crown of the anointing oil of his God_ is upon him' (Lev. xxi. 10, 12). And even so it is said of David, as type of the Messiah, 'Our king is _of the Holy One of Israel_. I have found David, my servant; with my _holy oil_ have I anointed him.' We know how the Hebrew name _Messiah_, and the Greek _Christ_, has reference to this. So, in the passage just quoted, the Hebrew is, 'with my holy oil I have _messiahed_ him.' And so in a passage like Acts x. 38: 'Concerning Jesus of Nazareth, whom God _christed_ with the Holy Ghost and with power.' Or Ps. xlv.: 'God hath _messiahed_ thee with the oil of gladness above thy fellows;' in Heb. i. 9, 'Thy God hath _christed_ thee with the oil of gladness.' And so (as one of our Reformed Catechisms, the Heidelberg, has it, in answer to the question, Why art thou called a Christian?) we are called Christians, because we are fellow-partakers with Him of His christing, His anointing. This is the anointing of which John speaks, the chrisma or christing of the Holy One. The Holy Spirit is the holy anointing which every believer receives: what God did to His Son to make Him the Christ, He does to me to make me a Christian. 'Ye have the anointing of the Holy One.' 1. _Ye have an anointing from the Holy One._ It is as the Holy One that the Father gives the anointing: that wherewith He anoints is called the oil of holiness, the Holy Spirit. Holiness is indeed a Divine ointment. Just as there is nothing so subtle and penetrating as the odour with which the ointment fills a house, so holiness is an indescribable, all-pervading breath of heavenliness which pervades the man on whom the anointing rests. Holiness does not consist in certain actions: this is righteousness. Holiness is the unseen and yet manifest presence of the Holy One resting on His anointed. Direct from the Holy One, the anointing is alone received, or rather, only in the abiding fellowship with Him in Christ, who is the Holy One of God. And who receives it? Only he who has given himself entirely to be holy as God is holy. It was the priest, who was separated to be holy to the Lord, who received the anointing: upon other men's flesh it was not to be poured. How many would fain have the precious ointment for the sake of its perfume to themselves! No, only he who is wholly consecrated to the service of the Holy One, to the work of the sanctuary, may receive it. If any one had said: I would fain have the anointing, but not be made a priest; I am not ready to go and always be at the call of sinners seeking their God, he could have no share in it. Holiness is the energy that only lives to make holy, and to bless in so doing: the anointing of the Holy One is for the priest, the servant of God Most High. It is only in the intensity of a soul truly roused and given up to God's glory, God's kingdom, God's work, that holiness becomes a reality. The holy garments were only prepared for priests and their service. In all our seekings after holiness, let us remember this. As we beware of the error of thinking that work for Christ will make holy, let us also watch against the other, the straining after holiness without work. It is the priest who is set apart for the service of the holy place and the Holy One, it is the believer who is ready to live and die that the Holiness of God may triumph among men around him, who will receive the anointing. 2. '_The anointing teacheth you._' The new man is created in _knowledge_, as well as in righteousness and holiness. Christ is made to us _wisdom_, as well as righteousness and sanctification. God's service and our holiness are above all to be a free and full, an intelligent and most willing, approval of His blessed will. And so the anointing, to fit us for the service of the sanctuary, teaches us to know all things. Just as the perfume of the ointment is the most subtle essence, something that has never yet been found or felt, except as it is smelt, so the spiritual faculty which the anointing gives is the most subtle there can be. It makes 'quick of scent in the fear of the Lord:' it teaches us by a Divine instinct, by which the anointed one recognises what has the heavenly fragrance in it, and what is of earth. It is the anointing that makes the Word and the name of Jesus in the Word to be indeed as ointment poured forth. The great mark of the anointing is thus, teachableness. It is the great mark of Christ, the Holy One of God, the Anointed One, that He listens: 'I speak not of myself; as I hear, so I speak.' And so it is of the Holy Spirit too: 'He shall not speak out of Himself: whatsoever He shall hear, that shall He speak.' It cannot be otherwise: one anointed with the anointing of this Christ, with this Holy Spirit, will be teachable, will listen to be taught. 'The anointing teacheth.' 'And ye need not that any one teach you: but the anointing teacheth you concerning all things.' 'They shall be all taught of God,' includes every believer. The secret of true holiness is a very direct and personal relation to the Holy One: all the teaching through the word or men made entirely dependent on and subordinate to the personal teaching of the Holy Ghost. The teaching comes through the anointing. Not, in the first place, in the thoughts or feelings, but in that all-pervading fragrance which comes from the fresh oil having penetrated the whole inner man. 3. '_And the anointing abideth in you._' '_In you._' In the spiritual life it is of deep importance ever to maintain the harmony between the objective and the subjective: God in Christ above me, God in the Spirit within me. In us, not as in a locality, but _in us_, as one with us, entering into the most secret part of our being, and pervading all, dwelling in our very body, the anointing abideth _in us_, forming part of our very selves. And this just in proportion as we know it and yield ourselves to it, as we wait and are still to let the secret fragrance permeate our whole being. And this, again, not interruptedly, but as a continuous and unvarying experience. Above circumstances and feelings, 'the anointing abideth.' Not, indeed, as a fixed state or as something in our own possession; but, according to the law of the new life, in the dependence of faith on the Holy One, and in the fellowship of Jesus. 'I am anointed with fresh oil,'--this is the objective side; every new morning the believer waits for the renewal of the Divine gift from the Father. 'The anointing abideth in you,'--this is the subjective side; the holy life, the life of faith and fellowship, the anointing, is always, from moment to moment, a spiritual reality. The holy anointing oil, always fresh, the anointing abiding always, is the secret of holiness. 4. '_And even as it taught you, ye abide in Him._' Here we have again the Holy Trinity: the Holy One, from whom the holy anointing comes; the Holy Spirit, who is Himself the anointing; and Christ, the Holy One of God, in whom the anointing teaches us to abide. In Christ the unseen holiness of God was set before us, and brought nigh: it became human, vested in a human nature, that it might be communicated to us. Within us dwells and works the Holy Spirit, drawing us out to the Christ of God, uniting us in heart and will to Him, revealing Him, forming Him within us, so that His likeness and mind are embodied in us. It is thus we abide in Christ: the holy anointing of the Holy One teacheth it to us. It is this that is the test of the true anointing: abiding in Christ, as He meant it, becomes truth in us. Here is the life of holiness as the Thrice Holy gives it: the Father, the first, the Holy One, making holy; the Son, the second, His Holy One, in whom we are; the Spirit, the third, who dwells in us, and through whom we abide in Christ, and Christ in us. Thus it is that the Thrice Holy makes us holy. Let us study the Divine anointing. It comes from the Holy One. There is no other like it. It is God's way of making us holy--His holy priests. It is God's way of making us partakers of holiness in Christ. The anointing, received of Him day by day, abiding in us, teaching us all things, especially teaching us to abide in Christ, must be on us every day. Its subtle, all-pervading power must go through our whole life: the odour of the ointment must fill the house. Blessed be God, it can do so! The anointing that abideth makes the abiding in Christ a reality and a certainty; and God Himself, the Holy One, makes the abiding anointing a reality and a certainty too. To His Holy Name be the praise! BE HOLY, FOR I AM HOLY. O Thou, who art the Holy One, I come to Thee now for the renewed anointing. O Father! this is the one gift Thy child may most surely count on--the gift of Thy Holy Spirit. Grant me now to sing, 'Thou anointest my head;' 'I am anointed with fresh oil.' I desire to confess with deep shame that Thy Spirit has been sorely grieved and dishonoured. How often the fleshly mind has usurped His place in Thy worship! How much the fleshly will has sought to do His work! O my Father! let Thy light shine through me to convince me very deeply of this. Let Thy judgment come on all that there is of human willing and running. Blessed Father! grant me, according to the riches of Thy glory, even now to be strengthened with might by Thy Spirit in the inner man. Strengthen my faith to believe in Christ for a full share in His anointing. Oh, teach me day by day to wait for and receive the anointing with fresh oil! O my Father! draw me and all Thy children to see that for the abiding in Christ we need the abiding anointing. Father! we would walk humbly, in the dependence of faith, counting upon the inner and ever-abiding anointing. May we so be a sweet savour of Christ to all. Amen. 1. I think I know now the reason why at times we fail in the abiding. We think and read, we listen and pray, we try to believe and strive to look to Jesus only, and yet we fail. What was wanting was this: 'His anointing teacheth you; _even as_ it taught you, ye abide in him;' so far, and no farther. 2. The washing always precedes the anointing: we cannot have the anointing if we fail in the cleansing. When cleansed and anointed we are fit for use. 3. Would you have the abiding anointing? Yield yourself wholly to be sanctified and made meet for the Master's use: dwell in the Holiest of all, in God's presence: accept every chastisement as a fellowship in the way of the rent flesh: be sure the anointing will flow in union with Jesus. 'It is like the precious ointment upon the head of Aaron, that went down to the skirts of his garments.' 4. The anointing is the Divine eye-salve, opening the eyes of the heart to know Jesus. So it teaches to abide in Him. I am sure most Christians have no conception of the danger and deceitfulness of a thought religion, with sweet and precious thoughts coming to us in books and preaching, and little power. The teaching of the Holy Spirit is in the heart first; man's teaching in the mind. Let all our thinking ever lead us to cease from thought, and to open the heart and will to the Spirit to teach there in His own Divine way, deeper than thought and feeling. Unseen, within the veil, the Holy Spirit abideth. Be silent and still, believe and expect, and cling to Jesus. 5. Oh that God would visit His Church, and teach His children what it is to wait for, and receive, and walk in the full anointing, the anointing that abideth and teacheth to abide! Oh that the truth of the personal leading of the Holy Spirit in every believer were restored in the Church! He is doing it; He will do it. Thirty-first Day. HOLY IN CHRIST. Holiness and Heaven. 'Seeing that all these things shall be dissolved, what manner of men ought ye to be in all _holy_ living and godliness?'--2 Pet. iii. 11. 'Follow after _the sanctification_ without which no man shall see the Lord.'--Heb. xii. 14. 'He that is _holy_, let him be made _holy_ still.... The grace of the Lord Jesus be with the _holy ones_. Amen.'--Rev. xxii. 11, 21. O my brother, we are on our way to see God. We have been invited to meet the Holy One face to face. The infinite mystery of holiness, the glory of the Invisible God, before which the seraphim veil their faces, is to be unveiled, to be revealed to us. And that not as a thing we are to look upon and to study. But we are to see the Thrice Holy One, the Living God Himself. God, the Holy One, will show Himself to us: we are to see God. Oh, the infinite grace, the inconceivable blessedness! we are to see God. We are to see God, the Holy One. And all our schooling here in the life of holiness is simply the preparation for that meeting and that vision. 'Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God.' 'Follow after the sanctification, without which no man shall see the Lord.' Since the time when God said to Israel, 'Be ye holy, as I am holy,' Holiness was revealed as the only meeting-place between God and His people. To be holy was to be the common ground on which they were to stand with Him; the one attribute in which they were to be like God; the one thing that was to prepare them for the glorious time when He would no longer need to keep them away, but would admit them to the full fellowship of His glory, to have the word fulfilled in them: 'He that is holy, let him be made yet more holy.' In his second epistle, Peter reminds believers that the coming of the day of the Lord is to be preceded and accompanied by the most tremendous catastrophe--the dissolution of the heavens and the earth. He makes it a plea with them to give diligence that they may be found without spot and blameless in His sight. And he asks them to think and say, under the deep sense of what the coming of the day of God would be and would bring, what the life of those ought to be who look for such things: 'What manner of person ought ye to be in all holy living and godliness?' Holiness must be its one, its universal characteristic. At the close of our meditations on God's call to Holiness, we may take Peter's question, and in the light of all that God has revealed of His Holiness, and all that waits still to be revealed, ask ourselves, 'What manner of men ought we to be in all holy living and godliness?' Note first the meaning of the question. In the original Greek, the words living and godliness are plural. Alford says, '_In holy behaviours and pieties_; the plurals mark the holy behaviour and piety _in all its forms and examples_.' Peter would plead for a life of holiness pervading the whole man: our behaviours towards men, and our pieties towards God. True holiness cannot be found in anything less. Holiness must be the one, the universal characteristic of our Christian life. In God we have seen that holiness is the central attribute, the comprehensive expression for Divine perfection, the attribute of all the attributes, the all-including epithet by which He Himself, as Redeemer and Father, His Son and His Spirit, His Day, His House, His Law, His Servants, His People, His Name, are marked and known. Always and in everything, in Judgment as in Mercy, in His Exaltation and His Condescension, in His Hiddenness and His Revelation, always and in everything, God is the Holy One. And the Word would teach us that the reign of Holiness, to be true and pleasing to God, must be supreme, must be in all holy living and godliness. There must not be a moment of the day, nor a relation in life; there must be nothing in the outer conduct, nor in the inmost recesses of the heart; there must be nothing belonging to us, whether in worship or in business, that is not holy. The Holiness of Jesus, the Holiness which comes of the Spirit's anointing, must cover and pervade all. Nothing, nothing may be excluded, if we are to be holy; it must be as Peter said when he spoke of God's call--holy in all manner of living; it must be as he says here--'in all holy living and godliness.' To use the significant language of the Holy Spirit: Everything must be done, 'worthily of the holy ones,' 'as becometh holy ones' (Rom. xvi. 3; Eph. v. 3). Note, too, the force of the question. Peter says, 'Wherefore, beloved, seeing that ye look for these things.' Yes, let us think what that means. We have been studying, down through the course of Revelation, the wondrous grace and patience with which God has made known and made partaker of His holiness, all in preparation for what is to come. We have heard God, the Holy One, calling us, pleading with us, commanding us to be holy, as He is holy. And we expect to meet Him, and to dwell through eternity in His Light, holy as He is holy. It is not a dream; it is a living reality; we are looking forward to it, as the only one thing that makes life worth living. We are looking forward to Love to welcome us, as with the confidence of childlike love we come as His holy ones to cry, Holy Father! We have learnt to know Jesus, the Holy One of God, our Sanctification. We are living in Him, day by day, as those who are holy in Christ Jesus. We are drawing on His Holiness without ceasing. We are walking in that will of God which He did, and which He enables us to do. And we are looking forward to meet Him with great joy, 'when He shall come to be glorified in the holy ones, and to be admired in all them that believe.' We have within us the Holy Spirit, the Holiness of God in Christ come down to be at home within us, as the earnest of our inheritance. He, the Spirit of Holiness, is secretly transforming us within, sanctifying our spirit, soul, and body, to be blameless at His coming, and making us meet for the inheritance of the holy ones in light. We are looking forward to the time when He shall have completed His work, when the body of Christ shall be perfected, and the bride, all filled and streaming with the life and glory of the Spirit within her, shall be set with Him on His throne, even as He sat with the Father on His throne. We hope through eternity to worship and adore the mystery of the Thrice Holy One. Even here it fills our souls with trembling joy and wonder: when God's work of making holy is complete, how we shall join in the song, 'Holy, Holy, Holy, Lord God Almighty, which wast, and art, and art to come!' In preparation for all this the most wonderful events are to take place. The Lord Jesus Himself is to appear, the power of sin and the world is to be destroyed; this visible system of things is to be broken up; the power of the Spirit is to triumph through all creation; there is to be a new heaven and a new earth, wherein dwelleth righteousness. And holiness is then to be unfolded in ever-growing blessedness and glory in the fellowship of the Thrice Holy: 'He that is holy, let him be holy yet more.' Surely it but needs the question to be put for each believer to feel and acknowledge its force: 'Wherefore, beloved, seeing that ye look for these things, what manner of men ought ye to be in all holy living and godliness?' And note now the need and the point of the question. 'What manner of persons ought ye to be?' But is such a question needed? Can it be that God's holy ones, made holy in Christ Jesus, with the very spirit of holiness dwelling with them, on the way to meet the Holy One in His Glory and Love, can it be that they need the question? Alas! alas! it was so in the time of Peter; it is but too much so in our days too. Alas! how many Christians there are to whom the very word Holy, though it be the name by which the Father, in His New Testament, loves to call His children more than any other, is strange and unintelligible. And again, alas! for how many Christians there are for whom, when the word is heard, it has but little attraction, because it has never yet been shown to them as a life that is indeed possible, and unutterably blessed. And yet again, alas! for how many are there not, even workers in the Master's service, to whom the 'all holy living and godliness' is yet a secret and a burden, because they have not yet consented to give up all, both their will and their work, for the Holy One to take and fill with His Holy Spirit. And yet once more, alas! as the cry comes, even from those who do know the power of a holy life, lamenting their unfaithfulness and unbelief, as they see how much richer their entrance into the Holy Life might have been, and how much fuller the blessing they still feel so feeble to communicate to others. Oh, the question is needed! Shall not each of us take it, and keep it, and answer it by the Holy Spirit through whom it came, and then pass it on to our brethren, that we and they may help each other in faith, and live in joy and hope to give the answer our God would have? 'Seeing that these things are, then, all to be dissolved, what manner of persons ought we to be in all holy living and godliness?' Brethren! the time is short. The world is passing away. The heathen are perishing. Christians are sleeping. Satan is active and mighty. God's holy ones are the hope of the Church and the world. It is they their Lord can use. 'What manner of persons shall we be in all holy living and godliness!' Shall we not seek to be such as the Father commands, 'Holy, as He is holy'? Shall we not yield ourselves afresh and undividedly to Him who is our Sanctification, and to His Blessed Spirit, to make us holy in all behaviours and pieties? Oh! shall we not, in thought of the love of our Lord Jesus, in thought of the coming glory, in view of the coming end, of the need of the Church and the world, give ourselves to be holy as He is holy, that we may have power to bless each believer we meet with the message of what God will do, and that in concert with them we may be a light and a blessing to this perishing world? I close with the closing words of God's Blessed Book, 'He which testifieth these things saith, Yea, I come quickly. Amen: Come, Lord Jesus. The grace of the Lord Jesus be with the holy ones. Amen.' BE YE HOLY, AS I AM HOLY. Most Holy God! who hast called us to be holy, we have heard Thy voice asking, What manner of persons we ought to be in all holy living and godliness? With our whole soul we answer in deep contrition and humility: Holy Father! we ought to be so different from what we have been. In faith and love, in zeal and devotion, in Christlike humility and holiness, O Father! we have not been, before Thee and the world, what we ought to be, what we could be. Holy Father! we now pray for all who unite with us in this prayer, and implore of Thee to grant a great revival of True Holiness in us and in all Thy Church. Visit, we beseech Thee, visit all ministers of Thy word, that in view of Thy coming they may take up and sound abroad the question, What manner of persons ought ye to be? Lay upon them, and all Thy people, such a burden under surrounding unholiness and worldliness, that they may not cease to cry to Thee. Grant them such a vision of the highway of holiness, the new and living way in Christ, that they may preach Christ our Sanctification in the power and the joy of the Holy Ghost, with the confident and triumphant voice of witnesses who rejoice in what Thou dost for them. O God! roll away the reproach of Thy people, that their profession does not make them humbler or holier, more loving, and more heavenly than others. O Holy God! give Thou Thyself the answer to Thy question, and teach us and the world what manner of persons Thy people can be, in the day of Thy power, in the beauty of holiness. We bow our knee to Thee, O Father, that Thou wouldst grant us, according to the riches of Thy glory, to be mightily strengthened in the inner man by the Spirit of Holiness. Amen. 1. What manner of men ought ye to be in all the holy living? This is a question God has written down for us. Might it not help us if we were to write down the answer, and say how holy we think we ought to be? The clearer and more distinct our views are of what God wishes, of what He has made possible, of what in reality _ought_ to be, the more definite our acts of confession, of surrender, and of faith can become. 2. Let every believer, who longs to be holy, join in the daily prayer that God would visit His people with a great outpouring of the Spirit of Holiness. Pray without ceasing that every believer may live as a holy one. 3. 'Seeing that _ye look for_ these things.' Our life depends, in more than one sense, upon what we look at. 'We look not at the things which are seen.' It is only as we look at the Invisible and Spiritual, and come under its power, that we shall be what we ought to be in all holy living and godliness. 4. _Holy in Christ._ Let this be our parting word. However strong the branch becomes, however far away it reaches round the home, out of sight of the vine, all its beauty and all its fruitfulness ever depend upon that one point of contact where it grows out of the vine. So be it with us too. All the outer circumference of my life has its centre in the ego--the living, conscious I myself, in which my being roots. And this I is rooted in Christ. Down in the depths of my inner life, there is Christ holding, bearing, guiding, quickening me into holiness and fruitfulness. In Him I am, In Him I will abide. His will and commands will I keep; His Love and Power will I trust. And I will daily seek to praise God that I am Holy in Christ. NOTES. NOTE A. Holiness as Proprietorship. In a little book--_Holiness, as understood by the Writers of the Bible; A Bible Study by Joseph Agar Beet_--the thought that by Holiness is meant our relation to God, and the claim He has upon us, has been very carefully worked out. Holy ground was such because 'it stood in _special relation_ to Himself.' The first-born 'were to stand _in a special relation to God as His property_.' So with the entire nation; when God declares that they shall be holy, He means 'that they shall render to Him the devotion He requires.' 'All holy objects stand in a special relation to God as His property.' The priests are said to sanctify themselves; they did this 'by formally placing themselves at God's disposal, or by separating themselves from whatever was inconsistent with the service of God.' 'When God declares He is holy, the word must represent the same idea in the hundreds of passages in which it is predicated of men and things.' 'Holiness is _God's claim to the ownership_ of men and things; and the objects claimed were called holy. Now, _God's claim_ was a new and wondrous revelation of His nature. To Aaron God was now the Great Being who had claimed from him a lifelong and exclusive service. _This claim_ was a new era, not only in his everyday life, but in his conception of God. Consequently the word _holy_, which expressed _Aaron's relation to God_, was suitably used to express _God's relation to Aaron_. In other words, to Aaron and Israel God was holy in the sense that He claimed the exclusive ownership of the entire nation. When men yielded to God the devotion He claimed, they were said to sanctify God.' 'Jehovah and Israel stood in special relation to each other; therefore Jehovah was _the Holy One of Israel_, and Israel was _Holy to Jehovah_. This mutual relation rested upon God's claim that Israel should specially be His; and this claim implied that in a special manner He would belong to Israel. This claim was a manifestation of the nature of God.' 'The peculiar relation arises from God's own claim, in consequence of which they stand in a new and solemn relation to Him. This may be called objective holiness. This is the most common sense of the word. In this sense God sanctified these objects for Himself. But since some of these objects were intelligent beings, and the others were in control of such, the word sanctify denotes these ones' formal surrender of themselves and their possessions to God. This may be called subjective holiness. From the word holy predicated of God, we learn that God's claim was not merely occasional, but an outflow of His Essence. As the one Being who claims unlimited and absolute ownership and supreme devotion, God is the Holy One.' In the New Testament the Spirit of God claims the epithet holy 'as being in a very special manner the source and influence of which God is the one and only aim.' Here 'our conception of the holiness of God increases with our increasing perception of the greatness of His claim upon us, and that this claim springs from the very essence of God. In the incarnate Son of God we see the full development and realization of the Biblical idea of holiness. We find Him standing in a special relation to God, and living a life of which the one and only aim is to advance the purposes of God.' We see in Him 'holiness in its highest degree, _i.e._ the highest conceivable devotion to God and to the advancement of His kingdom.' 'In virtue of His intelligent, hearty, continued appropriation of the Father's purpose, and in virtue of its realization in all the details of the Saviour's life, He was called _the Holy One of God_.' 'The word _saint_ is very appropriate as a designation of the followers of Christ; for it declares what God requires them to be. By calling His people _saints_, God declares His will that we live a life of which He is the one and only aim. This is the objective holiness of the Church of Christ. In some passages holiness is set before the people of God as a standard for their attainment. In these passages _holy_ denotes a realization in man of God's purpose that he live a life of which God is the one and only aim. This is the subjective holiness of God's people. 'Holiness is God's claim that His creatures use all their powers and opportunities to work out His purposes. Holiness, thus understood, is an attribute of God. For His claim springs from His nature, even from that love which is the very essence of God. His love to us moves Him to claim our devotion; for only by absolute devotion to Him can we attain our highest happiness.' 'Though without purity we cannot be subjectively holy, yet holiness is much more than purity. Purity is a mere negative excellence; holiness implies the most intense mental and bodily activity of which we are capable. For it is the employment of all our powers and opportunities to advance God's purposes.' The question 'How we become holy,' is answered thus: 'Our devotion to God is a result of inward spiritual contact with Him who once lived a human life on earth, and now lives a glorified human life on the throne, simply and only to work out the Father's purposes. We live for God because Christ does so, and because Christ lives in us, and we in Him: the Spirit of Christ is the Agent of the spiritual contact with Christ which imparts to us His life, and reproduces in us His life. He is the bearer of the power as well as of the holiness of Christ.' 'That God claims from His people unreserved devotion to Himself, and that what He claims He works in all who believe it, by His own power operating through the inward presence of the Holy Spirit, placing us in spiritual contact with Christ, is the great doctrine of sanctification by faith.' The same view, that holiness is a relation, had previously been worked out very elaborately by Diestel. In what has been said on redemption and proprietorship as related to holiness (see 'Sixth Day'), we have seen what truth there is in the thought. But holiness is something more. What is holy is not only God-devoted, but God-accepted, God-appropriated, God-possessed. God not only possesses the heart, but absolutely occupies and fills it with His life. It is this makes it holy. However much truth there be in the above exposition, it hardly meets our desire for an insight into what is one of the highest attributes of the very Being of God. When the seraphs worship Him as the Holy One, and in their Thrice Holy reflect something of the deepest mystery of Godhead, it surely means more than merely the expression of God's claim as Sovereign Proprietor of all. The mistake appears to originate in taking first the meaning of the word _holy_ from earthly objects, and then from that deducing that holiness in God cannot mean more than it does when applied to men. The Scriptures point to the opposite way. When Old and New Testaments say, 'Be ye holy, for I am holy, I make holy,' they point to God's Holiness as the first, both the reason and the source of ours. We ought first to discover what holiness in God is. When we read at creation of God's _sanctifying_ the Sabbath day, we have to do, not with a thought or word of Moses as to what God had done, but with a Divine revelation of a Power in God greater and more wonderful than creation, the Power which is later on revealed as the deepest mystery of the Divine Being. This Holiness in God, as it appears to me, cannot be a mere relation. To indicate a relation, tells me nothing positively about the personal character or worth of the related parties. To say that when God sanctifies men He claims them as His own, does not say what the nature is of the work He does for them and in them, or what the Power by which He does it. And yet that word ought to reveal to me what it is that God bestows. To say that that claim has its root in His very nature, and in His love, and that holiness is therefore an attribute, makes it an attribute, not like love or wisdom, immanent in the Divine Being, ere creatures were, but simply an effect of Love, moving God to claim His creatures as His special possession. We should then have no attribute expressive of God's moral perfection. Nor would the word holy of the Son and the Spirit any longer indicate that deep and mysterious communication of the very nature and life of God in which sanctification has its glory. In the Divine holiness we have the highest and inconceivably glorious revelation of the very essence of the Divine Being; in the holiness of the saints the deepest revelation of the change by which their inmost nature is renewed into the likeness of God. NOTE B. On the Word for Holiness. The proper meaning of the Hebrew word for holy, _kadosh_, is matter of uncertainty. It may come from a root signifying to shine. (So Gesenius, Oehler, Fürst, and formerly Delitzsch, on Heb. ii. 11.) Or from another denoting new and bright (Diestel), or an Arabic form meaning to cut, to separate. (So Delitzsch now, on Ps. xxii. 4.) Whatever the root be, the chief idea appears to be not only separate or set apart, for which the Hebrew has entirely different words, but that by which a thing that is separated from others for its worth is distinguished above them. It indicates not only separation as an act or fact, but the superiority or excellence in virtue of which, either as already possessed or sought after, the separation takes place. In his _Lexicon of New Testament Greek_, Cremer has an exhaustive article on the Greek _hagios_, pointing out how holiness is an entirely Biblical idea, and 'how the scriptural conceptions of God's Holiness, notwithstanding the original affinity, is diametrically opposite to all the Greek notions; and how, whereas these very views of holiness exclude from the gods all possibility of love, the scriptural conception of holiness unfolds itself only when in closest connection with Divine love.' It is a most suggestive thought that we owe both the word and the thought distinctly to revelation. Every other attribute of God has some notion to correspond with it in the human mind: the thought of holiness is distinctly Divine. Is not this the reason that, though God has so distinctly in the New Testament called His people holy ones, the word _holy_ has so little entered into the daily language and life of the Christian Church? NOTE C. The Holiness of God. There is not a word so exclusively scriptural, so distinctly Divine, as the word holy in its revelation and its meaning. As a consequence of this its Divine origin, it is a word of inexhaustible significance. There is not one of the attributes of God which theologians have found it so difficult to define, or concerning which they differ so much. A short survey of the various views that have been taken may teach us how little the idea of the Divine Holiness can be comprehended or exhausted by human definition, and how it is only in the life of fellowship and adoration that the holiness which passes all understanding can, as a truth and a reality, be apprehended. 1. The most external view, in which the ethical was very much lost sight of, is that in which holiness is identified with God's Separateness from the creation, and elevation above it. Holiness was defined as the incomparable Glory of God, His exclusive adorableness, His infinite Majesty. Sufficient attention was not paid to the fact that though all these thoughts are closely connected with God's Holiness, they are but a formal definition of the results and surroundings of the Holiness, but do not lead us to the apprehension of that wherein its real essence consists. 2. Another view, which also commences from the external, and makes that the basis of its interpretation, regards holiness simply as the expression of a relation. Because what was set apart for God's service was called holy, the idea of separation, of consecration, of ownership, is taken as the starting-point. And so, because we are said to be holy, as belonging to God, God is holy as claiming us and belonging to us too. Instead of regarding holiness as a positive reality in the Divine nature, from which our holiness is to be derived, our holiness is made the starting-point for expounding the Holiness of God. 'God is holy as being, within the covenant, not only the Proprietor, but the Property of His people, their highest good and their only rule' (Diestel). Of this view mention has already been made in the note to 'Sixth Day,' on Holiness as Proprietorship. 3. Passing over to the views of those who regard holiness as being a moral attribute, the most common one is that of purity, freedom from sin. 'Holiness is a general term for the moral excellence of God. There is none holy as the Lord: no other being absolutely pure and free from all limitations in His moral perfection. Holiness, on the one hand, implies entire freedom from moral evil; and, upon the other, absolute moral perfection.' (Hodge, _Syst. Theol._) The idea of holiness as the infinite Purity which is free from all sin, which hates and punishes it, is what in the popular conception is the most prominent idea. The negative stands more in the foreground than the positive. The view has its truth and its value from the fact that in our sinful state the first impression the Holiness of God must make is that of fear and dread in the consciousness of our sinfulness and unholiness. But it does not tell us wherein this moral excellence or perfection of God really consists. 4. It is an advance on this view when the attempt is made to define what this perfection of God is. A thing is perfect when it is in everything as it ought to be. It is easy thus to define perfection, but not so easy to define what the perfection of any special object is: this needs the knowledge of what its nature is. And we have to rest content with very general terms defining God's Holiness as the essential and absolute good. 'Holiness is the free, deliberate, calm, and immutable affirmation of Himself, who is goodness, or of goodness, which is Himself' (Godet _on John_ xvii. 11). 'Holiness is that attribute in virtue of which Jehovah makes Himself the absolute standard of Himself, of His being and revelation.' (Kubel.) 5. Closely allied to this is the view that holiness is not so much an attribute, but the 'whole complex of that which we are wont to look at and represent singly in the individual attributes of God.' So Bengel looked upon holiness as the Divine nature, in which all the attributes are contained. In the same spirit what Howe says of holiness as the Divine beauty, the result of the perfect harmony of all the attributes, 'Holiness is intellectual beauty. Divine holiness is the most perfect beauty, and the measure of all other. The Divine Holiness is the most perfect pulchritude, the ineffable and immortal pulchritude, that cannot be declared by words, or seen by eyes. This may therefore be called a transcendental attribute that, as it were, runs through the rest, and casts a glory upon every one. It is an attribute of attributes. These are fit predications, _holy_ power, _holy_ love. And so it is the very lustre and glory of His other perfections. He is glorious in holiness.' (Howe in _Whyte's Shorter Catechism_.) This was the aspect of the Divine Holiness on which Jonathan Edwards delighted to dwell. 'The mutual love of the Father and the Son makes the third, the personal Holy Spirit, or the Holiness of God, which is His infinite beauty.' 'By the communication of God's Holiness the creature partakes of God's moral excellence, which is perfection, the beauty of the Divine nature.' 'Holiness comprehends all the true moral excellence of intelligent beings. So the Holiness of God is the same with the moral excellency of the Divine nature, comprehending all His perfections, His righteousness, faithfulness, and goodness. There are two kinds of attributes in God, according to our way of conceiving Him: His _moral_ attributes, which are summed up in His Holiness, and His _natural_, as strength, knowledge, etc., which constitute His greatness. Holy persons, in the exercise of holy affection, love God in the first place for the beauty of His Holiness.' 'The holiness of an intelligent creature is that which gives beauty to all his natural perfections. And so it is in God: holiness is in a peculiar manner the beauty of the Divine being. Hence we often read of the beauty of holiness (Ps. xxix. 2, xcvi. 9, cx. 3). This renders all the other attributes glorious and lovely.' 'Therefore, if the true loveliness of God's perfections arise from the loveliness of His Holiness, the true love of all His perfections will arise from the love of His Holiness. And as the beauty of the Divine nature primarily consists in God's Holiness, so does the beauty of all Divine things.' 6. In speaking of God's Holiness as denoting the essential good, the absolute excellence of His nature, some press very strongly the _ethical_ aspect. The good in God must not be from mere natural impulse only, flowing from the necessity of His nature, without being freely willed by Himself. 'What is naturally good is not the true realization of the good. The actual and living will to be the good He is, must also have its place in God, otherwise God would only be naturally ethical. Only in the will which consciously determines itself, is there the possibility given of the ethical. The ethical has such a power in God that He is the holy Power, who cannot and will not renounce Himself, who must be, and would be thought to be, the holy necessity of the goodness which is Himself,--to be the Holy. The love of God is essentially holy; it desires and preserves the ethically necessary or holy, which God is.' (Dorner, _System_, vol. i.) 7. It was felt in such views that there was not a sufficient acknowledgment of the truth that it is especially as the Holy One that God is called the Redeemer, and that He does the work of love to make holy. This led to the view that holiness and love are, if not identical, at least correlated expressions. 'God is holy, exalted above all the praise of the creature in His incomparable praise-worthiness, on account of His free and loving condescension to the creature, to manifest in it the glory of His love.' 'God is holy, inasmuch as love in Him has restrained and conquered the righteous wrath (as Hosea says, xi. 9), and judgment is exercised only after every way of mercy has been tried. This holiness is disclosed in the New Testament name, as exalted as it is condescending, of Father.' (Stier _on John_ xvii.) 8. The large measure of truth in this view is met by an expression in which the true aspects of the Holiness of God are combined. It is defined as being the harmony of self-preservation and self-communication. As the Holy One, God hates sin, and seeks to destroy it. As the Holy One, He makes the sinner holy, and then takes him up into His love. In maintaining His love, He never for a moment loses His Divine purity and perfection; in maintaining His righteousness, He still communicates Himself to the fallen creature. Holiness is the Divine glory, of which love and righteousness are the two sides, and which in their work on earth they reveal. 'Holiness is the self-preservation of God, whereby He keeps Himself free from the world without Him, and remains consistent with Himself and faithful to His Being, and whereby He, with this view, creates a Divine world that lives for Himself alone in the organization of His Church.' (Lange.) 'The Holiness of God is God's self-preservation, or keeping to Himself, in virtue of which He remains the same in all relationships which exist within His Deity, or into which He enters, never sacrifices what is Divine, or admits what is not Divine. But this is only one aspect. God's Holiness would not be holiness, but exclusiveness, if it did not provide for God's entering into manifold relations, and so revealing and communicating Himself. Holiness is therefore the union and interpretation of God's keeping to Himself and communicating Himself; of His nearness and His distance; of His exclusiveness and His self-revelation; of separateness and fellowship.' (Schmieder.) 'The Divine Holiness is mainly seclusion from the impurity and sinfulness of the creature, or, expressed positively, the cleanness and purity of the Divine nature, which excludes all connection with the wicked. In harmony with this, the Divine Holiness, as an attribute of revelation, is not merely an abstract power, but is the Divine self-representation and self-testimony for the purpose of giving to the world the participation in the Divine life.' (Oehler, _Theol. of O. T._ i. 160.) 'Opposition to sin is the first impression which man receives of God's Holiness. Exclusion, election, cleansing, redemption--these are the four forms in which God's Holiness appears in the sphere of humanity; and we may say that God's Holiness signifies _His opposition to sin manifesting itself in atonement and redemption, or in judgment_. Or as holiness, so far as it is embodied in law, must be the highest moral perfection, we may say, "_holiness is the purity of God manifesting itself in atonement and redemption, and correspondingly in judgment_." By this view all the above elements are done justice to; holiness asserts itself in judging righteousness, and in electing, purifying, and redeeming love, and thus it appears as the impelling and formative principle of the revelation of redemption, without a knowledge of which an understanding of the revelation is impossible, and by the perception of which it is seen in its full, clear light. God is light: this is a full and exhaustive New Testament phrase for God's Holiness' (1 John i. 5). (Cremer.) This view is brought out with special distinctness in the writings of J. T. Beck. 'It is God's Holiness which, taking the good which was given in creation in strict faithfulness to that good and perfect will of God, as the eternal life-purpose of love, in righteousness and mercy carried out to its completion in God Himself to a life of perfection. God does this as the Alone Holy. In the world of sin Divine _love_ can only bring deliverance by a mediation in which it is reconciled to the Divine _wrath_ within _their common centre, the Holiness of God_, in such a way that while wrath manifests its destroying reality, love shall prove its restoring power in the life it gives.' (Beck, _Lehrwissenschaft_, 168, 547.) 'Holiness is the sum and substance of the Divine life, as, in comparison with all that is created, it exists as a perfect life, but as it, at the same time, opens itself to the creature to take it up into a Godlike perfection--that is, to be holy as God is holy. Holiness is thus so far from being in opposition to the Divine love that it is its essential feature or norm, and the actual contents of love. In holiness there is combined the Divine self-existence as a perfection of life, and the Divine self-exertion in the realizing a Godlike perfection of life in the world. Holiness as an attribute of the Divine Being is His pure and inviolably self-contained personality in its absolute perfection. Hence it is that in holiness, as the absolute unity and purity of the Divine Being and working, all the attributes of Divine revelation centre. And so holiness, as expressive of the Being of God, qualifies the love as essentially Divine. 'Love is the groundform of the Divine will, but as such it receives its Divine filling and character from the Divine Holiness, as the Divine self-existence and self-exertion. As such the Divine will manifests itself in two modes--in its pure love as _Goodness_, in its holy harmony as _Righteousness_. These two do not exist separately, but permeate each other in reciprocal immanence, just as God in His Holiness is love, and in His love is holiness. In goodness the Divine love shows itself as the pleasure in well-being. But in this goodness the righteousness of God, to secure the well-doing, also acts.' (J. T. Beck, _Glaubenslehre_.) 'God is holy, separate from all darkness and sin, but not in isolated majesty banishing the imperfect and the sinful from His presence: for God is light, God is love. It is the nature of light to communicate itself. Remaining pure and bright, undiminished and unsullied, it overcomes darkness and kindles light. The Holiness of God is likewise mentioned in Scripture, mostly in connection with love, communicating itself and drawing into itself. "I am holy"--but God does not remain alone, separate--"be ye also holy."' (Saphir _on Hebrews_ xii.) 'When we think of God as light and love, we realize most fully the idea of holiness, combining _separateness_ and _purity_ with _communion_.' (Saphir, _The Lord's Prayer_, p. 128.) 'It is especially as the spirit of His Church, and as dwelling in the human heart, that God is the Holy One.' (Nitsch.) That in the Holiness of God we have the union of love and righteousness, has been perhaps put by no one more clearly than Godet. In his _Commentary on Romans_ iii. 25, 26, he writes:-- 'The necessity of the expiatory sacrifice arises from His whole Divine character; in other words, from His Holiness, the principle at once of His love and righteousness, and not of His righteousness exclusively.' 'In this question we have to do not with God in His essence, but with God in His relation to free man. Now the latter is not holy to begin with; the use which he makes of his liberty is not yet regulated by love. The attribute of righteousness, and the firm resolution to maintain the Divine _holiness_, must therefore appear as a necessary safeguard as soon as liberty comes on the stage, and with it the possibility of disorder; and this attribute must remain in exercise as long as the educational period of the creature lasts--that is to say, until he has reached perfection in love. Then all these factors--right, law, justice--will return to their latent state.... 'It is common to regard _love_ as the fundamental feature of the Divine character; in this way it is very difficult to reach the attribute of righteousness. Most thinkers, indeed, do not reach it at all. This one fact should show the error in which they are entangled. _Holy, holy, holy_, say the creatures nearest to God, and not _Good, good, good_. Holiness, such is the essence of God; and holiness is the absolute love of the good, the absolute horror of the evil. From this it is not difficult to deduce both love and righteousness. Love is the goodwill of God toward all free beings who are destined to realize the good. Love goes out to the individuals, as holiness itself to the good which they ought to produce. Righteousness, on the other hand, is the firm purpose of God to maintain the normal relations between all these creatures by His blessings and punishments. It is obvious that righteousness is included, no less than love itself, in the fundamental feature of the Divine character, holiness. It is no offence, therefore, by God to speak of His justice and His rights. It is, on the contrary, a glory to God, who knows that in preserving His place He is securing the good of others. For God, in maintaining His supreme dignity, preserves to His creatures _their most precious treasure_, a God worthy of their respect and love.' And in his _Defence of the Christian Faith_ Godet writes, on 'The Perfect Holiness of Jesus Christ,' as follows:-- 'The supernatural in its highest form is not the miraculous, it is holiness. In the miraculous we see Omnipotence breaking forth to act upon the material world in the interests of the moral order. But holiness is morality itself in its sublimest manifestation. What is goodness? It has recently been said, with a precision which leaves nothing to be desired, Goodness is not an entity--a thing. It is a law determining the relations between things, relations which have to be realized by free wills. Perfect good is therefore the realization, at once normal and free, of the right relations to one another of all beings; each being occupying, by virtue of this relation, that place in the great whole, and playing that part in it, which befits it. 'Now, just as in a human family there is one central relation on which all the rest depend,--that of the father to all the members of this little whole,--so is there in the universe one supreme position, which is the support of all the rest, and which, in the interest of all beings, must be above all others preserved intact--that of God. And just here, in the general sphere of good, is the special domain of holiness. Holiness in God Himself is His fixed determination to maintain intact the order which ought to reign among all beings that exist, and to bring them to realize that relation to each other which ought to bind them together in a great unity, and consequently to preserve, above all, intact and in its proper dignity, His own position relatively to free beings. The Holiness of God thus understood comprehends two things--the importation of all the wealth of His own Divine life to each free being who is willing to acknowledge His sovereignty, and who sincerely acquiesces in it; and the withholding or the withdrawal of that perfect life from every being who either attacks or denies that sovereignty, and who seeks to shake off that bond of dependence by which he ought to be bound to God. Holiness in the creature is its own voluntary acquiescence in the supremacy of God. The man who, with all the powers of his nature, does homage to God as the Supreme, the absolute Being, the only One who veritably is; the man who, in His presence, voluntarily prostrates himself in the sense of his own nothingness, and seeks to draw all his fellow-creatures into the same voluntary self-annihilation, in so doing puts on the character of holiness. This holiness comprehends in him, as it does in God, love and righteousness; love by which he rejoices in recognising God, and all beings who surround God, as placed where they are by Him. He loves them and wills their existence, because he loves and wills the existence of God, and at the same time of all that God wills and loves; and righteousness, by which he respects and, as much as in him lies, causes others to respect God, and the sphere assigned by God to each being. Such is holiness as it exists in God and in man: in God it is His own inflexible self-assertion; in man it is his inflexible assertion of God. 'It is in Jesus that human nature sees how man can assert God and all that God asserts, not only humbly, but joyously and filially, with all the powers of his being, and even to the complete sacrifice of _himself_.' Careful reflection will show us that in each of the above views there is a measure of truth. It will convince us how the very difficulty of formulating to human thought the conception of the Divine Holiness proves that it is the highest expression for that ineffable and inconceivable glory of the Divine Being which constitutes Him the Infinite and Glorious God. Every attribute of God--wisdom and power, righteousness and love--has its image in human nature, and was in the religion or the philosophy of the heathen connected with the idea of God. From ourselves, when we take away the idea of imperfection, we can form some conception of what God is. But holiness is that which is characteristically Divine, the special contents of a Divine revelation. Let us learn to confess that however much we may seek, now from one, then from another side, to grasp the thought, the holiness of God is something that transcends all thought, a glory not so much to be thought, as to be known, in adoration and fellowship. Scripture speaks not so much of holiness, as the Holy One. It is as we worship and fear, obey and love; it is in a life with God, that something of the mystery of His glory will be unfolded. As the Divine light shines in us and through us, will the Holy One be revealed. NOTE D. 'Our holiness does not consist in our changing and becoming better ourselves: it is rather _He_, He Himself, born and growing in us, in such a way as to fill our hearts, and to drive out our natural self, "our old man," which cannot itself improve, and whose destiny is only to perish. 'And how is this kind of incarnation effected, by which Christ Himself becomes our new self? By a process of a free and moral nature, described by Jesus in words which surprise, because they place His sanctification upon nearly the same footing as our own: "As the living Father hath sent me, and I live by the Father, so he that eateth me shall live by me." 'Jesus derived the nourishment of His life from the Father who had sent Him: He lived by the Father. The meaning of that, doubtless, is, that every time He had to act or speak, He first effaced Himself; then left it to the Father to think, to will, to act, to be everything in Him. Similarly, when we are called upon to do any act, or speak any word, we must first efface ourselves in presence of Jesus; and after having suppressed in ourselves, by an act of the will, every wish, every thought, every act of our own self, we are to leave it to Jesus to manifest in us His will, His wisdom, His power. Then it is that we live by Him, as He lives by the Father. The process is identical in Jesus and in us. Only in Jesus it was carried on with God directly, because He was in immediate communion with Him; whilst in our case the transaction is with Jesus, because it is with Him that the believer holds direct communication, and through Him that we can find and possess the living Father. In that lies _the secret_, generally so little understood, _of Christian sanctification_.' (Godet, _Biblical Studies, N. T._, p. 190.) NOTE E. Let me once more refer all students of holiness to Marshall on Sanctification, and specially his third and fourth chapters. If they will compare him with our modern works--say, for instance, _God's Way of Holiness_, by so eminent an author as Dr. H. Bonar--they cannot but be struck by the prominence which Marshall gives to the one thought, that our holiness, a holy nature, is provided in Jesus, and that as faith accepts and maintains our union with Jesus in personal intercourse, sanctification is by faith. While, in other works, the union to Jesus, and faith in Him, are but incidentally mentioned, and the chief stress is laid upon duties and the motives which urge to their performance, Marshall points out how motives never can supply the strength we need: it is the power of Christ's life in us, it is Christ Himself, as we by faith are rooted in Him, who works all our works in us. An abridgment of the work, for popular use, is published by Nisbet & Co. NOTE F. Note from Bengel on Rom. i. 4. '_According to the Spirit of Holiness._ The word _hagios_, holy, when God is spoken of, not only denotes the blameless rectitude in action, but the very Godhead, or to speak more properly, the _divinity_, or excellence of the Divine nature. Hence _hagiosune_ (the word here used) has a kind of middle sense between _hagiotes_, holiness, and _hagiasmos_, sanctification. Comp. Heb. xii. 10 (_hagiotes_ or holiness), v. 14 (_hagiasmos_ or sanctification). So that there are, as it were, three degrees: _sanctification_, _sanctity of life_, _holiness_. Holiness is ascribed to the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost. And since here the Holy Spirit is not mentioned, but the spirit of holiness (prop. sanctity, _hagiosune_), we must further inquire what this remarkable expression denotes. The name spirit is expressly and very frequently given to the Holy Spirit; but God is also called a spirit; and the Lord Jesus Christ is called a spirit, but in contrast to the latter. (2 Cor. iii. 17.) With this we must compare the fact that, as in this passage, so often the antithesis of flesh and spirit is found where Christ is spoken of. (1 Tim. iii. 16; 1 Pet. iii. 18.) In these passages the Spirit is applied to whatever belongs to Christ (apart from the flesh, although this was pure and holy, and above the flesh), through His generation of the Father, who sanctified Him: in short, His Godhead itself. For here, _flesh_ and _spirit_, and chap. ix. 5, _flesh_ and _Godhead_, stand in mutual contrast. This spirit is here called not the spirit of holiness, the usual title of the Holy Spirit; but it is called in this passage _the spirit of sanctity_, to suggest at once the efficacy of that holiness or divinity, which led of necessity to the Saviour's resurrection, and by which it was most forcibly illustrated, and also that spiritual and holy, or Divine power of Jesus who has been glorified and yet retained a spiritual body. Before the resurrection the spirit was concealed under the flesh; after the resurrection the spirit of sanctity concealed the flesh. In reference to the former, He was wont to call Himself the Son of man; in reference to the latter, He is known as the Son of God.' Beck, in his _Lehrwissenschaft_, p. 604, puts it very clearly, thus-- 'Inasmuch as the innocence and purity of Christ were not present in His sufferings and death as a quiescent attribute, but were in full action in the indestructible life-power of the Spirit, as He sanctified His own self to God for us ("through the eternal spirit," Heb. ix. 14--therefore, in Rom. i. 4, _hagiosune_, the habit of holiness in its action or sanctity, not _hagiotes_, only an inner attribute, or _hagiasmos_, holiness in its formation)--His suffering effected an everlasting redemption.' NOTE G. 'Freed' and 'Possessed'--The Twofold Result of Redemption. (_From an address by Pastor Stockmaiev._) 'Who gave Himself for us, that He might redeem us from all iniquity, and purify unto Himself _a people for His own possession_, zealous of good works.' 'In the redemption work of our Saviour Jesus Christ, there are two definite parts. You will never find the secret of abiding in Christ, so long as you cannot see these two definite distinct parts. The first is "Jesus for me," the other "I for Jesus." Blessed be our Saviour that He came for sinners. _He for us._ Blessed be the Lord that there is redemption from penalty; but that is not yet all that redemption means. You must have a clear apprehension of the second part of redemption, by that same Holy Ghost who is the guide to introduce us into the full possession of all that Christ, living and dying, has wrought out for us. He gave Himself that He might redeem us from all iniquity--not that we might have the pleasure of being pleased with our own purity or holiness, or such things; but that He might have us altogether for Himself, to purify _unto Himself_, for Himself, not for Himself and themselves, but _unto Himself_, a people of His own possession. 'What is now redemption?--freedom from self, even spiritual self. We are not to be our own centre, the centre of our joy, our progress, having in our poor weak hands the threads of our spiritual life. There is no real spiritual life but Christ's life, and He must have the care of it altogether from the beginning to the end. Lift up your eyes, dear brethren, you who were creeping on the ground. We are made for the glory of God, to be possessed by Jesus. The Lord God found a way, in giving His Son, the Lamb of God, His Lamb, to get such selfish people, who even in the line of the Christian life found means to seek and to nourish self, to get such people into His own real practical possession, to be possessed by Jesus. That is redemption, and that only; that is liberty, and that is reality; that is what satisfies, not to be satisfied with any experiences of your own, but to let go your experiences, and to say, I am free, so free as the people of Israel were coming out of Egypt, free to serve God. "Let my people go, that they may serve me." You are free, free through the blood of Christ, free through the power of the Holy Ghost--no flesh, no hand, no self being able to keep you back. The Lord has stretched out His arms upon all the powers who had kept us in the bondage of Egypt, and He triumphed over them. You are free as the bird of the air to live in Jesus--that is freedom; you are free in your daily life, free in the deepest, inmost depths of your being, free for Jesus, possessed by Him, a people of His own possession. Let my people go, said God. So, I have given my blood, said Jesus; and no flesh, no sin, no self can claim against the blood of Jesus. He has redeemed unto Himself, not for us, a people of His own possession.... 'You are inquiring about the secret of abiding in Jesus. Have you not seen this in the 15th of John, that abiding and bearing fruit are inseparable? You cannot abide in Jesus for His joy, _and your inward satisfaction_. The secret of abiding is to stand as a redeemed one, as firmly in the second part of redemption as the first. I am now living for Jesus, and I have only to ask, Lord, what wilt Thou have done now? I am for Thee. I am for Jesus. I have only to follow, to follow as a sanctified one, as a possessed one, as one who is no more living for himself, who has given his life up into the hands of Jesus. Oh, how these questions of abiding become simple! It is not mysticism; it is not some special experience. It is simply a fact. I need Jesus for every moment, and my temptations as well as my duties become opportunities of realizing this life of fellowship with Christ. Oh, yes, this is redemption! Oh, mighty power of God the Father, God the Son, God the Holy Ghost, engaged to keep such a weak, helpless, unfaithful thing as you and myself in the centre of life! Sealed by the Holy Ghost, and God will never break His own seal.' THE END. MORRISON AND GIBB, PRINTERS, EDINBURGH. 
27344	----	THE FAITHFUL PROMISER. By the Author of "THE WORDS OF JESUS," "THE MORNING AND NIGHT WATCHES," ETC. "Whereby are given unto us exceeding great and precious promises."--2 Pet. i. 4. NEW YORK: STANFORD & DELISSER, No. 508, BROADWAY. 1858. The Faithful Promiser. It has often been felt a delightful exercise by the child of God, to take, night by night, an individual promise and plead it at the mercy-seat. Often are our prayers _pointless_, from not following, in this respect, the example of the sweet Psalmist of Israel, the Royal Promise pleader, who delighted to direct his finger to some particular "word" of the Faithful Promiser, saying, "Remember Thy word unto Thy servant, on which thou hast caused me to hope!" The following are a few gleanings from the Promise Treasury,--a few crumbs from "the Master's Table," which may serve to help the thoughts in the hour of closet meditation, or the season of sorrow. ST. M----, _December_, 1849. 1ST DAY OF MONTH. "He is Faithful that Promised." "Come now, let us reason together, saith the Lord: Though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they be red like crimson, they shall be as wool."--ISAIAH i. 18. Pardoning Grace. My soul! thy God summons thee to His audience chamber! Infinite purity seeks to reason with infinite vileness! Deity stoops to speak to dust! Dread not the meeting. It is the most gracious, as well as wondrous of all conferences. Jehovah himself breaks silence! He utters the best tidings a lost soul or a lost world can hear: "God is in Christ reconciling the world unto Himself, not imputing unto men their trespasses." What! _Scarlet_ sins, and _crimson_ sins! and these all to be forgiven and forgotten! The just God "justifying" the unjust!--the mightiest of all beings, the kindest of all! Oh! what is there in thee to merit such love as this? Thou mightest have known thy God only as the "consuming fire," and had nothing before thee save "a fearful looking for of vengeance!" This gracious conference bids thee dispel thy fears! It tells thee it is no longer a "fearful," but a _blessed_ thing to fall into His hands? Hast thou closed with these His overtures? Until thou art at peace with Him, happiness must be a stranger to thy bosom. Though thou hast all else beside, bereft of God thou must be "bereft indeed." Lord! I come! As thy pardoning grace is freely tendered, so shall I freely accept it. May it be mine, even now, to listen to the gladdening accents, "Son! Daughter! be of good cheer! thy sins, which are many, are all forgiven thee." "REMEMBER _THIS_ WORD UNTO THY SERVANT, UPON WHICH THOU HAST CAUSED ME TO HOPE!" 2D DAY. "He is Faithful that Promised." "As thy days, so shall thy strength be."--DEUT. xxxiii. 25. Needful Grace. God does not give grace till the hour of trial comes. But when it _does_ come, the amount of grace, and the nature of the special grace required is vouchsafed. My soul, do not dwell with painful apprehension on the future. Do not anticipate coming sorrows; perplexing thyself with the grace needed for future emergencies; to-morrow will bring its promised grace along with to-morrow's trials. God, wishing to keep His people humble, and dependent on himself, gives not a stock of grace; He metes it out for every day's exigencies, that they may be constantly "travelling between their own emptiness and Christ's fulness"--their own weakness and Christ's strength. But _when_ the exigency comes, thou mayest safely trust an Almighty arm to bear thee through! Is there now some "thorn in the flesh" sent to lacerate thee? Thou mayest have been entreating the Lord for its removal. Thy prayer has, doubtless, been heard and answered; but not in the way, perhaps, expected or desired by thee. The "thorn" may still be left to goad, the trial may still be left to buffet; but "more grace" has been given to endure them. Oh! how often have His people thus been led to glory in their infirmities and triumph in their afflictions, seeing the power of Christ rests more abundantly upon them! The strength which the hour of trial brings, often makes the Christian a wonder to himself! "REMEMBER _THIS_ WORD UNTO THY SERVANT, UPON WHICH THOU HAST CAUSED ME TO HOPE!" 3D DAY. "He is Faithful that Promised." "God is able to make all grace abound toward you; that ye, always having all sufficiency in all things, may abound to every good work."--2 COR. ix. 8. All-Sufficient Grace. "All-sufficiency in all things!" Believer! surely thou art "thoroughly furnished!" Grace is no scanty thing, doled out in pittances. It is a glorious treasury, which the key of prayer can always unlock, but never empty. A fountain, "full, flowing, _ever_ flowing, _over_flowing." Mark these three ALL's in this precious promise. It is a three-fold link in a golden chain, let down from a throne of grace by a God of grace. "_All-grace!_"--"_all-sufficiency!_" in "_all things!_" and these to "abound." Oh! precious thought! My want cannot impoverish that inexhaustible treasury of grace! Myriads are hourly hanging on it, and drawing from it, and yet there is no diminution: "Out of that fulness all we too may receive, and grace for grace!" My soul, dost not thou love to dwell on that all-abounding grace? Thine own insufficiency in every thing, met with an "all-sufficiency in all things!" Grace in all circumstances and situations, in all vicissitudes and changes, in all the varied phases of the Christian's being. Grace in sunshine and storm--in health and in sickness--in life and in death. Grace for the old believer and the young believer, the tried believer, and the weak believer, and the tempted believer. Grace _for_ duty, and grace _in_ duty,--grace to carry the joyous cup with a steady hand,--grace to drink the bitter cup with an unmurmuring spirit,--grace to have prosperity sanctified,--grace to say, through tears, "Thy will be done!" "REMEMBER _THIS_ WORD UNTO THY SERVANT, UPON WHICH THOU HAST CAUSED ME TO HOPE!" 4TH DAY. "He is Faithful that Promised." "I will not leave you comfortless; I will come to you."--JOHN xiv. 18. Comforting Grace. Blessed Jesus! How thy presence sanctifies trial, takes loneliness from the chamber of sickness, and the sting from the chamber of death! Bright and Morning Star! precious at all times, thou art never _so_ precious as in "the dark and cloudy day!" The bitterness of sorrow is well worth enduring to have thy promised consolations. How well qualified, thou Man of Sorrows, to be my Comforter! How well fitted to dry my tears, Thou who didst shed so many thyself! What are _my_ tears--my sorrows--my crosses--my losses, compared with Thine, who didst shed first Thy tears, and then Thy blood for _me_! Mine are all deserved, and infinitely more than deserved. How different, O Spotless Lamb of God, those pangs which rent Thy guiltless bosom! How sweet those comforts Thou hast promised to the comfortless, when I think of them as flowing from an Almighty _Fellow-Sufferer_,--"A brother born for adversity,"--the "Friend that sticketh closer than any brother!"--one who can say, with all the refined sympathies of a holy exalted human nature, "I know your sorrows!" My soul! calm thy griefs! There is not a sorrow thou canst experience, but Jesus, in the treasury of grace, has an exact corresponding solace: "In the multitude of the _sorrows_ I have in my heart, Thy _comforts_ delight my soul!" "REMEMBER _THIS_ WORD UNTO THY SERVANT, UPON WHICH THOU HAST CAUSED ME TO HOPE!" 5TH DAY. "He is Faithful that Promised." "Satan hath desired to have you, that he may sift you as wheat; but I have prayed for thee, that thy faith fail not."--LUKE xxii. 31, 32. Restraining Grace. What a scene does this unfold! Satan tempting--Jesus praying! Satan sifting--Jesus pleading! "The strong man assailing"--"the stronger than the strong" beating him back! Believer? here is the past history and present secret of thy safety in the midst of temptation. An interceding Saviour was at thy side, saying to every threatening wave, "Thus far shalt thou go, and no farther?" God often permits His people to be on the very verge of the precipice, to remind them of their own weakness; _but never farther than the verge!_ The restraining hand and grace of Omnipotence is ready to rescue them. "Although he fall, yet shall he not be cast down utterly; and why? for the Lord upholdeth him with His right hand!" The wolf may be prowling for his prey; but what can he do when the Shepherd is always there, tending with the watchful eye that "neither slumbers nor sleeps?" Who cannot subscribe to the testimony, "When my foot slipped, Thy mercy, O Lord! held me up?" Who can look back on his past pilgrimage, and fail to see it crowded with Ebenezers, with this inscription: "Thou hast delivered my soul from death, mine eyes from tears, and my feet from falling?" My soul, where wouldst thou have been this day, hadst thou not been "_kept_" by the power of God? "REMEMBER _THIS_ WORD UNTO THY SERVANT, UPON WHICH THOU HAST CAUSED ME TO HOPE!" 6TH DAY. "He is Faithful that Promised." "I will heal their backsliding."--HOSEA xiv. 4. Restoring Grace. Wandering again! And has He not left me to perish? Stumbling and straying on the dark mountains, away from the Shepherd's eye and the Shepherd's fold, shall He not leave the erring wanderer to the fruit of his own ways, and his truant heart to go hopelessly onward in its career of guilty estrangement? "My thoughts," says God, "are not as your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways." Man would say, "Go, perish! ungrateful apostate!" God says, "Return, ye backsliding children!" The Shepherd _will_ not, _cannot_ suffer the sheep to perish He has purchased with His own blood. How wondrous His forbearance towards it!--tracking its guilty steps, and ceasing not the pursuit till He lays the wanderer on His shoulders, and returns with it to His fold rejoicing! My soul! why increase by farther departures thine own distance from the fold?--why lengthen the dreary road thy gracious Shepherd has to traverse in bringing thee back? Delay not thy return! Provoke no longer His patience; venture no farther on forbidden ground. He waits with outstretched arms to welcome thee once more to His bosom. Be humble for the past, trust Him for the future. Think of thy former backslidings, and tremble; think of His forbearance, and be filled with holy gratitude; think of His promised grace, "and take courage." "REMEMBER _THIS_ WORD UNTO THY SERVANT, UPON WHICH THOU HAST CAUSED ME TO HOPE!" 7TH DAY. "He is Faithful that Promised." "He which hath begun a good work in you, will perform it until the day of Jesus Christ."--PHIL. i. 6. Sanctifying Grace. Reader! is the good work begun in thee? Art thou holy? Is sin crucifying? Are thy heart's idols, one by one abolished? Is the world less to thee, and eternity more to thee? Is more of thy Saviour's image impressed on thy character, and thy Saviour's love more enthroned in thy heart? Is "Salvation" to thee more "the one thing needful?" Oh! take heed! there can be no middle ground, no standing still; or if it be so, thy position must be a false one. The Saviour's blood is not more necessary to give thee a title to Heaven, than His Spirit to give thee a meetness for it. "If any man have not the Spirit of Christ, he is _none of His_!" "Onwards!" should be thy motto. There is no standing still in the life of faith. "The man," says Augustine, "who says '_Enough_,' that man's soul is lost?" Let this be the superscription in all thy ways and doings, "Holiness to the Lord." Let the monitory word exercise over thee its habitual power, "Without holiness no man shall see the Lord." Moreover, remember, that to be holy, is to be happy. The two are convertible terms. Holiness! It is the secret and spring of the joy of angels; and the more of holiness attained on earth--the nearer and closer my walk is with God--the more of a sweet earnest shall I have of the bliss that awaits me in a holy Heaven. Oh! my soul, let it be thy sacred ambition to "Be holy!" "REMEMBER _THIS_ WORD UNTO THY SERVANT, UPON WHICH THOU HAST CAUSED ME TO HOPE!" 8TH DAY. "He is Faithful that Promised." "They that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run, and not be weary; they shall walk, and not faint."--ISAIAH xl. 31. Reviving Grace. "Wilt thou not revive us, O Lord?" My soul! art thou conscious of thy declining state? Is thy walk less with God, thy frame less heavenly? Hast thou less conscious nearness to the mercy-seat,--diminished communion with thy Saviour? Is prayer less a privilege than it has been?--the pulsations of spiritual life more languid, and fitful, and spasmodic?--the bread of life less relished?--the seen, and the temporal, and the tangible, displacing the unseen and eternal? Art thou sinking down into this state of drowsy self-contentment, this conformity-life with the world, forfeiting all the happiness of true religion, and risking and endangering the better life to come? Arise! call upon thy God! "Wilt thou not revive us, O Lord?" He might have returned nothing but the withering repulse, "How often would I have gathered thee; but thou wouldst not!" "Ephraim is joined to his idols; let him alone!" But "in wrath He remembers mercy." "They _shall_ revive as the corn." "The mouth of the Lord hath spoken it." How and where is reviving grace to be found? He gives thee, in this precious promise, the key. It is on thy bended _knees_--by a return to thy deserted and unfrequented chamber! "_They that wait upon the Lord!_" "Wait on the Lord; be of good cheer, and He shall strengthen thine heart; wait, I say, on the Lord!" "REMEMBER _THIS_ WORD UNTO THY SERVANT, UPON WHICH THOU HAST CAUSED ME TO HOPE!" 9TH DAY. "He is Faithful that Promised." "The righteous shall hold on his way."--JOB xvii. 9. Persevering Grace. Reader! how comforting to thee amid the ebbings and flowings of thy changing history, to know that the change is all with thee, and not with thy God! Thy spiritual bark may be tossed on waves of temptation, in many a dark midnight. Thou mayest think thy pilot hath left thee, and be ready continually to say, "Where is my God?" But fear not! The bark which bears thy spiritual destinies is in better hands than thine; a golden chain of covenant love links it to the eternal throne! That chain can never snap asunder. He who holds it in His hand gives thee _this_ as the pledge of thy safety,--"Because I live, ye shall live also." "Why art thou then cast down, O my soul? and why art thou disquieted within me? _hope thou in God!_" Thou wilt assuredly ride out these stormy surges, and reach the desired haven. But be faithful with thyself: see that there be nothing to hinder or impede thy growth in grace. Think how little may retard thy progress. One sin indulged--one temptation tampered with--one bosom traitor, may cost thee many a bitter hour and bitter tear, by separating between thee and thy God. Make it thy daily prayer, "Search me, O God, and know my heart; try me and know my thoughts: and see if there be any wicked way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting." "REMEMBER _THIS_ WORD UNTO THY SERVANT, UPON WHICH THOU HAST CAUSED ME TO HOPE!" 10TH DAY. "He is Faithful that Promised." "I have the keys of hell and of death."--REV. i. 18. Dying Grace. And from whom could dying grace come so welcome, as from Thee, O blessed Jesus? Not only is Thy name, "The Abolisher of Death;" but Thou didst thyself _die_! Thou hast sanctified the grave by Thine own presence, and divested it of all its terrors. My soul! art thou at times afraid of this, thy last enemy? If the rest of thy pilgrimage-way be peaceful and unclouded, rests there a dark and portentous shadow over the terminating portals? Fear not! When that dismal entrance is reached, He who has "the keys of the grave and of death" suspended at His golden girdle, will impart grace to bear thee through. It is the messenger of peace. Thy Saviour calls thee! The promptings of nature, when, at first, thou seest the darkening waves, may be that of the affrighted disciples, when they said, "It is a spirit, and cried out for fear!" But a gentle voice will be heard high above the storm, "It is I! Be not afraid!" Death, indeed, as the wages of sin, must, even by the believer, be regarded as an enemy. But, oh! blessed thought, it is thy _last_ enemy--the cause of thy last tear. In a few brief moments after that tear is shed, thy God will be wiping every vestige of it away? "O Death! where is thy sting? O Grave! where is thy victory? Thanks be unto God, who giveth us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ!" Welcome, vanquished foe!--Birthday of heaven!--"to die is gain!" "REMEMBER _THIS_ WORD UNTO THY SERVANT, UPON WHICH THOU HAST CAUSED ME TO HOPE!" 11TH DAY. "He is Faithful that Promised." "The Lord will give grace and glory."--PSALM lxxxiv. 11. After Grace, Glory. Oh! happy day, when this toilsome warfare will all be ended, Jordan crossed, Canaan entered, the legion-enemies of the wilderness no longer dreaded; sorrow, sighing, death, and, worst of all, _sin_, no more either to be felt or feared! Here is the terminating link in the golden chain of the everlasting covenant. It began with _predestination_; it ends with _glorification_. It began with sovereign grace in a by-past eternity, and no link will be awanting till the ransomed spirit be presented faultless before the throne! Grace and glory! If the earnest be sweet, what must be the reality? If the wilderness table contain such rich provision, what must be the glories of the eternal banqueting house? Oh! my soul, make sure of thine interest in the one, as the blessed prelude to the other. "Having access by faith into this _grace_, thou canst rejoice in hope of the _glory_ of God;" for "whom He _justifies_, them He also _glorifies_!" Has grace begun in thee? Canst thou mark--though it should be but the drops of the incipient rill which is to terminate in such an ocean--the tiny grains which are to accumulate and issue in such "an exceeding weight of glory!" Delay not the momentous question! The day of offered grace is on the wing; its hours are fast numbering; and, "No grace, no glory!" "REMEMBER _THIS_ WORD UNTO THY SERVANT, UPON WHICH THOU HAST CAUSED ME TO HOPE!" 12TH DAY. "He is Faithful that Promised." "I will pray the Father, and He shall give you another Comforter, that He may abide with you for ever."--JOHN xiv. 16. Another Comforter. Blessed Spirit of all grace! how oft have I grieved Thee! resisted Thy dealings, quenched Thy strivings; and yet art thou still pleading with me! Oh! let me realize more than I do the need of Thy gracious influences. Ordinances, sermons, communions, providential dispensations, are nothing without Thy life-giving power. "It is the Spirit that quickeneth." "No man can call Jesus, Lord, but by the Holy Ghost." Church of the living God! is not this one cause of thy deadness? My soul! is not this the secret of thy languishing frames, repeated declensions, uneven walk, and sudden falls, that the influences of the Holy Ghost are undervalued and unsought? Pray for the outpouring of this blessed Agent for the world's renovation, and thine own. "I will pour out my Spirit on all flesh," is the precursor of millennial bliss. Jesus! draw near, in thy mercy, to this torpid heart, as thou didst of old to thy mourning disciples, and breathe upon it, and say, "Receive ye the Holy Ghost." It is the mightiest of all boons; but, like the sun in the heavens, it is the freest of all: "For if ye, being evil, know how to give good gifts unto your children, how much more shall your Father in heaven give the Holy Spirit unto them that ask Him!" "REMEMBER _THIS_ WORD UNTO THY SERVANT, UPON WHICH THOU HAST CAUSED ME TO HOPE!" 13TH DAY. "He is Faithful that Promised." "All things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to His purpose."--ROM. viii. 28. Providential Overruling. My soul! be still! thou art in the hands of thy Covenant God. Were these strange vicissitudes in thy history the result of accident, or chance, thou mightest well be overwhelmed; but "_all things_," and _this_ thing (be what it may) which may be now disquieting thee, is _one_ of these "_all things_" that are _so_ working mysteriously for thy good. Trust thy God! He will not deceive thee,--thy interests are with Him in safe custody. When sight says, "All these things are against me," let faith rebuke the hasty conclusion, and say, "Shall not the Judge of all the earth do right?" How often does God hedge up our way with thorns, to elicit simple trust! How seldom can we _see_ all things so working for our good! But it is better discipline to _believe_ it. Oh! for faith amid frowning providences, to say, "I _know_ that thy judgments are good;" and, relying in the dark, to exclaim, "Though He slay me, yet will I trust Him!" Blessed Jesus! to thee are committed the reins of this universal empire. The same hand that was once nailed to the cross, is now wielding the sceptre on the throne,--"all power given unto thee in heaven and in earth." How can I doubt the wisdom, and faithfulness, and love, of the most mysterious earthly dealing, when I know that the Roll of Providence is thus in the hands of Him who has given the mightiest pledge Omnipotence _could_ give of His tender interest in my soul's well-being, by giving _Himself_ for me? "REMEMBER _THIS_ WORD UNTO THY SERVANT, UPON WHICH THOU HAST CAUSED ME TO HOPE!" 14TH DAY. "He is Faithful that Promised." "All the Paths of the Lord are mercy and truth, unto such as keep His covenant and His testimonies."--PSALM xxv. 10. Safe Walking. The paths of the Lord? My soul! never follow thine own paths. If thou dost so, thou wilt be in danger often of following sight rather than faith,--choosing the evil, and refusing the good. But "commit thy way unto the Lord, and He shall bring it to pass." Let this be thy prayer, "Show me _Thy_ ways, O Lord; teach me _Thy_ paths." Oh! for Caleb's spirit, "_wholly_ to follow the Lord my God,"--to follow Him when self must be sacrificed, and hardship must be borne, and trials await me. To "walk with God,"--to ask in simple faith, "What wouldst thou have me to do?"--to have no will of my own, save this, that God's will is to be _my_ will. Here is safety,--here is happiness. Fearlessly follow the Guiding Pillar. He will lead you by a _right_ way, though it may be by a way of hardship, and crosses, and losses, and privations, to the city of habitation. Oh! the blessedness of thus lying passive in the hands of God; saying, "Undertake thou for me!"--dwelling with holy gratitude on past mercies and interpositions--taking these as pledges of future faithfulness and love--hearing His voice behind us, amid life's manifold perplexities, exclaiming, "This is the way, walk ye in it!" "Happy," surely, "are every people who are in such a case!" Happy, Reader! will it be for thee, if thou canst form the resolve in a strength greater than thine own: "This God shall be _my_ God for ever and ever; He shall be my _Guide_ even unto death!" "REMEMBER _THIS_ WORD UNTO THY SERVANT, UPON WHICH THOU HAST CAUSED ME TO HOPE!" 15TH DAY. "He is Faithful that Promised." "As many as I love, I rebuke and chasten."--REV. iii. 19. Love in Chastisement. Sorrowing Believer! what couldst thou wish more than this? Thy furnace is severe; but look at this assurance of Him who lighted it. Love is the fuel that feeds its flames! Its every spark is love! Kindled by a Father's hand, and designed as a special pledge of a Father's love. How many of his dear children has He so rebuked and chastened; and all, _all_ for one reason, "_I love them!_" The myriads in glory have passed through these furnace-fires,--_there_ they were chosen,--_there_ they were purified, sanctified, and made "vessels meet for the Master's use;" the dross and the alloy purged, that the pure metal might remain. And art thou to claim exemption from the same discipline? Art thou to think it strange concerning these same fiery trials that may be trying thee? Rather exult in them as thine adoption-privilege. Envy not those who are strangers to the refining flames,--who are "_without chastisement_;" rather, surely, the severest discipline _with_ a _Father's love_, than the fullest earthly cup without that Father's smile. Oh! for grace to say, when the furnace is hottest, and the rod sorest, "Even so, _Father_!" And what, after all, is the severest of thy chastisements in comparison with what thy sins have deserved? Dost thou murmur under a Father's correcting love? What would it have been to have stood the wrath of an unpropitiated Judge, and that, too, _for ever_? Surely, in the light of eternity, the heaviest pang of earth is indeed "a light affliction!" "REMEMBER _THIS_ WORD UNTO THY SERVANT, UPON WHICH THOU HAST CAUSED ME TO HOPE!" 16TH DAY. "He is Faithful that Promised." "If need be."--1 PETER i. 6. A Condition in Chastisement. Three gracious words! Not one of all my tears shed for nought! Not one stroke of the rod unheeded, or that might have been spared? Thy heavenly Father loves thee too much, and too tenderly, to bestow harsher correction than thy case requires? Is it loss of health, or loss of wealth, or loss of beloved friends? Be still! there was a _need be_. We are no judges of what that "need be" is; often through aching hearts we are forced to exclaim, "Thy judgments are a great deep!" But God here pledges himself, that there will not be one redundant thorn in the believer's chaplet of suffering. No burden too heavy will be laid on him; and no sacrifice too great exacted _from_ him. He will "temper the wind to the shorn lamb." Whenever the "need be" has accomplished its end, then the rod is removed--the chastisement suspended--the furnace quenched. "If need be!" Oh! what a pillow on which to rest thy aching head,--that there is not a drop in all thy bitter cup but what a God of love saw to be _absolutely_ necessary! Wilt thou not trust Him, even though thou canst not trace the mystery of His dealings? Not too curiously prying into the "_Why_ it is?" or "_How_ it is?" but satisfied that "So it is," and, therefore that all _must_ be well! "Although thou sayest, thou canst not see Him, yet judgment is before Him, _therefore_ trust thou in Him!" "REMEMBER _THIS_ WORD UNTO THY SERVANT, UPON WHICH THOU HAST CAUSED ME TO HOPE!" 17TH DAY. "He is Faithful that Promised." "A bruised reed shall He not break, and smoking flax shall He not quench."--MATT. xii. 20. Strength in the Weak. Will Jesus accept such a heart as mine?--this erring, treacherous, traitor heart? The past! how many forgotten vows--broken covenants--prayerless days! How often have I made new resolutions, and as often has the reed succumbed to the first blast of temptation, and the burning flax been well-nigh quenched by guilty omissions and guiltier commissions! Oh! my soul! thou art low indeed,--the things that remain seem "ready to die." But thy Saviour-God will not give thee "over unto death." The reed is bruised; but He will not pluck it up by the roots. The flax is reduced to a smoking ember; but He will fan the decaying flame. Why wound thy loving Saviour's heart by these repeated declensions? He will not--_cannot_ give thee up. Go, mourn thy weakness and unbelief. Cry unto the Strong for strength. Weary and faint one! thou hast an Omnipotent arm to lean on. "_He_ fainteth not, neither is weary!" Listen to His own gracious assurance: "Fear not, for I am with thee. Be not dismayed, for I am thy God. I will _strengthen_ thee; yea, I will help thee with the right hand of my righteousness!" Leaving all thy false props and refuges, be this thy resolve: "In the Lord put I my trust: why say ye to my soul, Flee as a bird to your mountain?" "REMEMBER _THIS_ WORD UNTO THY SERVANT, UPON WHICH THOU HAST CAUSED ME TO HOPE!" 18TH DAY. "He is Faithful that Promised." "Him that cometh unto me, I will in no wise cast out."--JOHN vi. 37. Encouragement to the Desponding. "Cast out!" My soul! how oft might this have been thy history! Thou hast cast off thy God,--might He not oft have "cast out" thee? Yes! cast thee out as fuel for the fire of His wrath,--a sapless, fruitless cumberer. And yet, notwithstanding all thine ungrateful requital for His unmerited forbearance, He is still declaring, "As I live, saith the Lord, I have no pleasure in the death of him that dieth." Thy sins may be legion-like,--the sand of the sea may be their befitting type,--the thought of their turpitude and aggravation may be ready to overwhelm thee; but be still! thy patient God waits to be gracious! Oh! be deeply humbled and softened because of thy guilt, resolve to dedicate thyself anew to His service, and so coming, "He will _by no means_ cast thee out!" Despond not by reason of former shortcomings,--thy sins are great, but thy Saviour's merits are greater. He is willing to forget all the past, and sink it in oblivion, if there be present love, and the promise of future obedience. "Simon, son of Jonas, _lovest thou me_?" Ah! how different is God's verdict from man's! After such sins as thine, man's sentence would have been, "_I_ will in nowise receive!" But "it is better to fall into the hands of God, than into the hands of man;" for He says, "I will in _nowise_ cast out!" "REMEMBER _THIS_ WORD UNTO THY SERVANT, UPON WHICH THOU HAST CAUSED ME TO HOPE!" 19TH DAY. "He is Faithful that Promised." "Peace I leave with you; my peace I give unto you; not as the world giveth."--JOHN xiv. 27. Peace in Believing. "Thou wilt keep him in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on Thee." "Perfect peace!"--what a blessed attainment! My soul! is it thine? Sure I am it is _not_, if thou art seeking it in a perishable world, or in the perishable creature, or in thy perishable self. Although thou hast all that the world would call enviable and happy, unless thou hast peace _in_ God, and _with_ God, all else is unworthy of the name;--a spurious thing, which the first breath of adversity will shatter, and the hour of death utterly annihilate! Perfect peace! What is it? It is the peace of forgiveness. It is the peace arising out of a sense of God reconciled through the blood of the everlasting covenant,--resting sweetly on the bosom, and the work of Jesus,--to Him committing thine eternal all. My soul! stay thyself on God, that so this blessed peace may be thine. Thou hast tried the world. It has deceived thee. Prop after prop of earthly scaffolding has yielded, and tottered, and fallen. Has thy God ever done so? Ah! this false and counterfeit world-peace may do well for the world's work, and the world's day of prosperity. But test it in the hour of sorrow; and what can it do for thee when most it is needed? On the other hand, what though thou hast no other blessing on earth to call thine own? Thou art rich indeed, if thou canst look upwards to Heaven, and say with "unpresumptuous smile," "I am at peace with God." "REMEMBER _THIS_ WORD UNTO THY SERVANT, UPON WHICH THOU HAST CAUSED ME TO HOPE!" 20TH DAY. "He is Faithful that Promised." "Blessed are the dead that die in the Lord."--REV. xiv. 13. Bliss in Dying. My Soul! is this blessedness thine in prospect? Art thou ready, if called this night to lie down on thy death-pillow, sweetly to fall asleep in Jesus? What is the sting of death? It is sin. Is death, then, to thee, robbed of its sting, by having listened to the gracious accents of pardoning love, "Be of good cheer, thy sins, which are many, are all forgiven thee?" If thou hast made up thy peace with God, resting on the work and atoning blood of His dear Son, then is the Last Enemy divested of all his terror, and thou canst say, in sweet composure, of thy dying couch and dying hour,--"I will both lay me down in peace and sleep, because Thou, Lord, makest me to dwell in safety!" Reader! ponder that solemn question, "Am I ready to die? Am I living as I should wish I had done when that last hour arrives?" And when shall it arrive? To-morrow is not thine. "Verily, there may be but a step between thee and death." Oh! solve the question speedily,--risk no doubts and no peradventure. Every day is proclaiming anew the lesson, "The race is not to the swift, nor the battle to the strong." Seek to live, so that that hour cannot come upon thee too soon, or too unexpectedly. Live a dying life! How blessed to live,--how blessed to die, with the consciousness, that there may be but a step between thee and glory! "REMEMBER _THIS_ WORD UNTO THY SERVANT, UPON WHICH THOU HAST CAUSED ME TO HOPE!" 21ST DAY. "He is Faithful that Promised." "In due season we shall reap, if we faint not."--GAL. vi. 9. A Due Reaping. Believer! all the glory of thy salvation belongs to Jesus,--none to thyself; every jewel in thine eternal crown is His,--purchased by His blood, and polished by His Spirit. The confession of time will be the ascription of all eternity: "By the grace of God I am what I am!" But though "all be of grace," thy God calls thee to personal strenuousness in the work of thy high calling;--to "labour," to "fight," to "wrestle," to "_agonize_;" and the heavenly reaping will be in proportion to the earthly sowing: "He that soweth sparingly, shall reap also sparingly; and he that soweth bountifully, shall reap also bountifully!" What an incentive to holy living, and increased spiritual attainments! My soul! wouldst thou be a star shining high and bright in the firmament of glory?--wouldst thou receive the ten-talent recompense? Then be not weary. Gird on thine armour for fresh conquests. Be gaining daily some new victory over sin. Deny thyself. Be a willing cross-bearer for thy Lord's sake. Do good to all men as thou hast opportunity; be patient under provocation, "slow to wrath," resigned in trial. Let the world take knowledge of thee that thou art wearing Christ's livery, and bearing Christ's spirit, and sharing Christ's cross. And when the reaping time comes, He who has promised that the cup of cold water cannot go unrecompensed, will not suffer thee to lose thy reward! "REMEMBER _THIS_ WORD UNTO THY SERVANT, UPON WHICH THOU HAST CAUSED ME TO HOPE!" 22D DAY. "He is Faithful that Promised." "The days of thy mourning shall be ended."--ISAIAH lx. 20. An End of Weeping. Christ's people are a weeping band, though there be much in this lovely world to make them joyous and happy. Yet when they think of sin--their own sin, and the unblushing sins of a world in which their God is dishonoured--need we wonder at their tears?--that they should be called "Mourners," and their pilgrimage-home a "Valley of Tears?" Bereavement, and sickness, and poverty, and death, following the track of sin, add to their mourning experience; and with many of God's best beloved, one tear is scarce dried when another is ready to flow! Mourners! rejoice! When the reaping time comes, the weeping time ends! When the white robe and the golden harp are bestowed, every remnant of the sackcloth attire is removed. The moment the pilgrim, whose forehead is here furrowed with woe, bathes it in the crystal river of life,--that moment the pangs of a lifetime of sorrow are eternally forgotten! Reader! if thou art one of these careworn ones, the days of thy mourning are numbered! A few more throbbings of this aching heart, and then the angel who proclaims "time," shall proclaim also, sorrow, and sighing, and mourning, to "be no longer!" Seek now to mourn thy sins more than thy sorrows; reserve thy bitterest tears for forgetfulness of thy dear Lord. The saddest and sorest of all bereavements, is when the sins which have separated thee from Him, evoke the anguish-cry, "Where is my God?" "REMEMBER _THIS_ WORD UNTO THY SERVANT, UPON WHICH THOU HAST CAUSED ME TO HOPE!" 23D DAY. "He is Faithful that Promised." "Behold, I come quickly."--REV. iii. 11. A Speedy Coming. "Even so! come, Lord Jesus!" "Why tarry the wheels of Thy chariot?" Six thousand years this world has rolled on, getting hoary with age, and wrinkled with sins and sorrows. A waiting Church sees the long-drawn shadows of twilight announcing, "The Lord is at hand." Prepare, my soul, to meet Him. Oh! happy days, when thine adorable Redeemer, so long dishonoured and despised, shall be publicly enthroned, in presence of an assembled universe, crowned Lord of All, glorified in His saints, satisfied in the fruits of His soul's travail, destroying His enemies with the brightness of His coming--the lightning-glance of wrath,--causing the hearts of His exulting people to "rejoice with joy unspeakable and full of glory." Prepare, my soul, to meet Him! Let it be a joyous thought to thee,--thy "blessed hope,"--the meeting of thine Elder Brother. Stand oftentimes on the watchtower to catch the first streak of that coming brightness, the first murmur of these chariot wheels. The world is now in preparation! It is rocking on its worn-out axle. There are voices on every side proclaiming, "He cometh! He cometh! to judge the earth." Reader! art thou among the number of those who "love His appearing?" Remember the attitude of His expectant saints: "Blessed are those servants whom the Lord, when He cometh, will find WATCHING!" "REMEMBER _THIS_ WORD UNTO THY SERVANT, UPON WHICH THOU HAST CAUSED ME TO HOPE!" 24TH DAY. "He is Faithful that Promised." "At evening-time it shall be light."--ZECH. xiv. 7. Eventide Light. How inspiring the thought of coming glory! How would we rise above our sins, and sorrows, and sufferings, if we could live under the power of "a world to come!" Were faith to take at all times its giant leap beyond a soul-trammelling earth, and remember its brighter destiny. If it could stand on its Pisgah Mount, and look above and beyond the mists and vapours of this land of shadows, and rest on the "better country." But, alas! in spite of ourselves, the wings ofttimes refuse to soar--the spirit droops--guilty fears depress--sin dims and darkens--God's providences seem to frown--God's ways are misinterpreted--the Christian belies his name and his destiny. But, "At eventide it shall be light."--The material sun, which wades through clouds and a troubled sky, sets often in a couch of lustrous gold? So, when the sun of life is setting, many a ray of light will shoot athwart memory's darkened sky, and many mysterious dealings of the wilderness will then elicit an "All is well!" How frequently is the presence and upholding grace of Jesus especially felt and acknowledged at that hour, and griefs and misgivings hushed with His own gentle accents, "Fear not! it is I; be not afraid." A triumphant death-bed! It is no unmeaning word; the eye is lighted with holy lustre, the tongue with holy rapture, as if the harps of heaven were stealing on it. My soul! may such a life's evening-tide be thine! "REMEMBER _THIS_ WORD UNTO THY SERVANT, UPON WHICH THOU HAST CAUSED ME TO HOPE!" 25TH DAY. "He is Faithful that Promised." "What I do thou knowest not now; but thou shalt know hereafter."--JOHN xiii. 7. Heavenly Illumination. As the natural sun sometimes sinks in clouds, so, occasionally, the Christian who has a bright rising, and a brighter meridian, sets in gloom. It is not _always_ "light" at his evening-time; but this we know, that when the day of immortality breaks, the last vestige of earth's shadows will for ever flee away. To the closing hour of time, Providence may be to him a baffling enigma: but ere the first hour has struck on heaven's chronometer, all will be clear. My soul! "in God's light thou shalt see light;" the Book of His decrees is a sealed book now,--"A great deep" is all the explanation thou canst often give to His judgments; the _why_ and the _wherefore_ He seems to keep from us, to test our faith, to discipline us in trustful submission, and lead us to say, "Thy will be done!" But rejoice in that hereafter-light which awaits thee! Now we see through a glass darkly; but _then_, face to face. In the great mirror of eternity all the events of this chequered scene will be reflected; the darkest of them will be seen to be bright with mercy,--the severest dispensations, "only the severer aspects of His love!" Pry not, then, too curiously; pronounce not too censoriously on God's dealings with thee. Wait with patience till the grand day of disclosures; one confession shall then burst from every tongue, "Righteous art thou, O Lord!" "REMEMBER _THIS_ WORD UNTO THY SERVANT, UPON WHICH THOU HAST CAUSED ME TO HOPE!" 26TH DAY. "He is Faithful that Promised." "I will come again, and receive you unto myself, that where I am, there ye may be also."--JOHN xiv. 3. A Glorious Reunion. If the meeting of a long absent friend, or brother, on earth, be a joyous event, what, my soul, must be the joy of thy union with this Brother of brothers, this Friend of friends! "I will come again!" Oh! what an errand of love, what a promised honour and dignity is this!--His saints to share, not His Heaven only, but His immediate presence. "Where _I am, there ye_ shall be also!" "Father, I _will_ (it was His dying wish,--a wondrous codicil in that testamentary prayer) that those whom Thou hast given me be with me where _I am_." Happy reunion! Blessed Saviour, if Thy presence be so sweet on a sin-stricken earth, and when known only by the invisible eye of faith, what must be that presence in a sinless Heaven, unfolded in all its unutterable loveliness and glory! Happy reunion! it will be a meeting of the whole ransomed family--the Head with all its members--the Vine with all its branches--the Shepherd with all His flock--the Elder Brother with all His kinsmen. Oh, the joy, too, of mutual recognition among the death-divided--ties snapt asunder on earth, indissolubly renewed--severed friendships reunited--the triumph of love complete--love binding brother with brother, and friend with friend, and _all_ to the Elder Brother! My soul! what thinkest thou of this Heaven? Remember who it is that Jesus says shall sit with Him upon His throne,--"Him that overcometh." "REMEMBER _THIS_ WORD UNTO THY SERVANT, UPON WHICH THOU HAST CAUSED ME TO HOPE!" 27TH DAY. "He is Faithful that Promised." "And I will betroth thee unto Me for ever."--HOSEA ii. 19. Everlasting Espousals. How wondrous and varied are the figures which Jesus employs to express the tenderness of His covenant love! My soul! thy Saviour-God hath "married thee!" Wouldst thou know the hour of thy betrothment? Go back into the depths of a by-past eternity, before the world was; then and there, thine espousals were contracted: "I have loved thee with an everlasting love." Soon shall the bridal-hour arrive, when thine absent Lord shall come to welcome His betrothed bride into His royal palace. "The Bridegroom tarrieth;" but see that thou dost not slumber and sleep! Surely there is much all around demanding the girded loins and the burning lamps. At "midnight!" (the hour when He is least expected) the cry _may_ be--_shall_ be heard,--"Behold, the Bridegroom cometh!" My soul! has this mystic union been formed between thee and thy Lord? Canst thou say, in humble assurance of thine affiance in Him, "My beloved is mine, and I am His!" If so, great, unspeakably great, are the glories which await thee! Thy dowry, as the bride of Christ, is all that Omnipotence can bestow, and all that a feeble creature can receive. In the prospect of those glorious nuptials, thou needest dread no pang of widowhood. What God has joined together, no created power can take asunder; He betroths thee, and it is "for ever!" "REMEMBER _THIS_ WORD UNTO THY SERVANT, UPON WHICH THOU HAST CAUSED ME TO HOPE!" 28TH DAY. "He is Faithful that Promised." "This corruptible must put on incorruption."--1 COR. xv. 53. A Joyful Resurrection. Marvel of marvels? The sleeping ashes of the sepulchre starting at the tones of the archangel's trumpet!--the dishonoured dust, rising a glorified body, like its risen Lord's? At death, the soul's bliss is perfect in kind; but this bliss is not complete in degree, until reunited to the tabernacle it has left behind to mingle with the sods of the valley. But tread lightly on that grave, it contains precious, because ransomed dust! My body, as well as my spirit, was included in the redemption price of Calvary; and "them also which sleep in Jesus will God bring with Him." Oh! blessed Jubilee-day of creation, when Christ's "dead men shall arise;"--when, together with His dead body, they shall come; and the summons shall sound forth, "Awake, and sing, ye that dwell in the dust!" All the joys of that resurrection morn we cannot tell; but its chief glory we _do_ know,--"When He shall appear, we shall be like Him; for we shall see Him as He is." Like Him!--My soul, art thou waiting this manifestation of the sons of God? Like Him!--Hast thou caught up any faint resemblance to that all-glorious image? Having this hope in thee, art thou purifying thyself, even as He is pure? Be much with Jesus now, that thou mayst exult in meeting Him hereafter. Thus taking Him as thy Guide and Portion in life, thou mayst lay thee down in thy dark and noisome cell, and look forward with triumphant hope to the dawn of a resurrection morn, saying, "What time I awake, I am still with Thee!" "REMEMBER _THIS_ WORD UNTO THY SERVANT, UPON WHICH THOU HAST CAUSED ME TO HOPE!" 29TH DAY. "He is Faithful that Promised." "There shall be no night there."--REV. xxi. 25. A Nightless Heaven. My soul! is it night with thee here? Art thou wearied with these midnight tossings on life's tumultuous sea? Be still! the day is breaking! soon shall thy Lord appear. "His going forth is prepared as the morning." That glorious appearing shall disperse every cloud, and usher in an eternal noontide which knows no twilight. "Thy sun shall no more go down, neither shall thy moon withdraw itself; for the Lord shall be thine everlasting light." Everlasting light! Wondrous secret of a nightless world!--the glories of a present God!--the everlasting light of the Three in One, quenching the radiance of all created orbs--superseding all material luminaries. "My soul waiteth for the Lord more than they that watch for the morning!" The haven is nearing--star after star is quenched in more glorious effulgence--every bound over these dark waves is bringing thee nearer the eternal shore. Wilt thou not, then, humbly and patiently endure "weeping for the night," in the prospect of the "joy that cometh in the morning?" Strange realities! a world without night--a firmament without a sun; and, greater wonder still, _thyself_ in this world,--a joyful denizen of this nightless, sinless, sorrowless, tearless Heaven!--basking underneath the Fountain of uncreated light! No exhaustion of glorified body and spirit to require repose; no lassitude or weariness to suspend the ever-deepening song: "They _rest not_!" "REMEMBER _THIS_ WORD UNTO THY SERVANT, UPON WHICH THOU HAST CAUSED ME TO HOPE!" 30TH DAY. "He is Faithful that Promised." "When the Chief Shepherd shall appear, ye shall receive a crown of glory that fadeth not away."--1 PETER v. 4. A Crown of Life. What! is the beggar to be "raised from the dunghill, set among princes, and made to inherit a throne of glory?" is dust and ashes, a puny rebel, a guilty traitor, to be pitied, pardoned, loved, exalted from the depths of despair, raised to the heights of Heaven--gifted with kingly honour--royally fed--royally clothed--royally attended--and, at last, royally crowned? O my soul, look forward with joyous emotion to that day of wonders, when He whose head shall be crowned with many crowns, shall be the dispenser of royal diadems to His people; and when they shall begin the joyful ascription of all eternity, "Unto Him that loved us and washed us from our sins in His own blood, and has made us KINGS----; to Him be glory and dominion for ever and ever. Amen." Wilt thou not be among the number? Shall the princes and monarchs of the earth wade through seas of blood for a corruptible crown; and wilt thou permit thyself to lose the incorruptible, or barter it for some perishable nothings of earth? Oh! that thou wouldst awake to thy high destiny, and live up to thy transcendant privileges as the citizen of a Kingly Commonwealth, a member of the blood-royal of Heaven. What wouldst thou not sacrifice,--what effort wouldst thou grudge, if thou wert included at last in the gracious benediction, "Come, ye blessed of My Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world?" "REMEMBER _THIS_ WORD UNTO THY SERVANT, UPON WHICH THOU HAST CAUSED ME TO HOPE!" 31ST DAY. "He is Faithful that Promised." "God himself shall be with them, and be their God. And God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes; and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain: for the former things are passed away."--REV. xxi. 3, 4. The Vision and Fruition of God. Glorious consummation! All the other glories of Heaven are but emanations from this glory that excelleth. Here is the focus and centre to which every ray of light converges. God is "all in all." Heaven _without God_!--it would send a thrill of dismay through the burning ranks of angels and archangels; it would dim every eye, and hush every harp, and change the whitest robe into sackcloth. And shall I then, indeed, "_see God_?" What! shall I gaze on these inscrutable glories, and live? Yes, God himself shall be with them, and be their God: they shall "_see his face_!" And not only the vision, but the _fruition_. Oh! how does sin in my holiest moments damp the enjoyment of Him! It is the "pure in heart" alone who can "see," far more, who can enjoy "God." Even if he did reveal himself _now_, these eyes could never endure His intolerable brightness. But _then_, with a heart purified from corruption--a world where the taint of sin and the power of temptation never enters--the soul again a bright mirror, reflecting the lost image of the Godhead--all the affections devoted to their original high destiny--the love of God the motive principle, the ruling passion--the glory of God the undivided object and aim--the will no opposing or antagonist bias,--man will, for the first time, know all the blessedness of his chief end,--"to glorify God, and to enjoy Him for ever!" "REMEMBER _THIS_ WORD UNTO THY SERVANT, UPON WHICH THOU HAST CAUSED ME TO HOPE!" All The Promises of God In Him Are Yea and in Him Amen. * * * * * TRANSCRIBER'S NOTES Minor punctuation inconsistencies have been silently corrected. 11th Day: For consistency, "bypast" has been changed to "by-past". 16th Day: For consistency, "1 PETER 1." has been changed to "1 PETER i." 30th Day: The spelling of "transcendant" has been retained. 
27349	----	Personal Friendships of Jesus BY J. R. MILLER, D. D. AUTHOR OF "SILENT TIMES," "MAKING THE MOST OF LIFE," "THINGS TO LIVE FOR," "BLESSING OF CHEERFULNESS," ETC. One friend in that path shall be, To secure my steps from wrong; One to count night day for me, Patient through the watches long, Serving most with none to see. BROWNING. New York THOMAS Y. CROWELL & CO. PUBLISHERS COPYRIGHT, 1897, BY THOMAS Y. CROWELL & COMPANY. EIGHTH THOUSAND PREFACE. George MacDonald said in an address, "The longer I live, the more I am assured that the business of life is to understand the Lord Christ." If this be true, whatever sheds even a little light on the character or life of Christ is worth while. Nothing reveals a man's heart better than his friendships. The kind of friend he is, tells the kind of man he is. The personal friendships of Jesus reveal many tender and beautiful things in his character. They show us also what is possible for us in divine friendship; for the heart of Jesus is the same yesterday, and to-day, and forever. These chapters are only suggestive, not exhaustive. If they make the way into close personal friendship with Jesus any plainer for those who hunger for such blessed intimacy, that will be reward enough. J. R. M. PHILADELPHIA. CONTENTS. CHAPTER I. THE HUMANHEARTEDNESS OF JESUS II. JESUS AND HIS MOTHER III. JESUS AND HIS FORERUNNER IV. JESUS' CONDITIONS OF FRIENDSHIP V. JESUS CHOOSING HIS FRIENDS VI. JESUS AND THE BELOVED DISCIPLE VII. JESUS AND PETER VIII. JESUS AND THOMAS IX. JESUS' UNREQUITED FRIENDSHIPS X. JESUS AND THE BETHANY SISTERS XI. JESUS COMFORTING HIS FRIENDS XII. JESUS AND HIS SECRET FRIENDS XIII. JESUS' FAREWELL TO HIS FRIENDS XIV. JESUS' FRIENDSHIPS AFTER HE AROSE XV. JESUS AS A FRIEND All I could never be, All men ignored in me, This I was worth to God. BROWNING. But lead me, Man divine, Where'er Thou will'st, only that I may find At the long journey's end Thy image there, And grow more like to it. For art not Thou The human shadow of the infinite Love That made and fills the endless universe? The very Word of Him, the unseen, unknown, Eternal Good that rules the summer flower And all the worlds that people starry space. RICHARD WATSON GILDER. THE FRIENDSHIPS OF JESUS. CHAPTER I. THE HUMANHEARTEDNESS OF JESUS. O God, O kinsman loved, but not enough, O man with eyes majestic after death, Whose feet have toiled along our pathways rough, Whose lips drawn human breath; By that one likeness which is ours and thine, By that one nature which doth hold us kin, By that high heaven where sinless thou dost shine, To draw us sinners in; By thy last silence in the judgment hall, By long foreknowledge of the deadly tree, By darkness, by the wormwood and the gall, I pray thee visit me. JEAN INGELOW. There is a natural tendency to think of Jesus as different from other men in the human element of his personality. Our adoration of him as our divine Lord makes it seem almost sacrilege to place his humanity in the ordinary rank with that of other men. It seems to us that life could not have meant the same to him that it means to us. It is difficult for us to conceive of him as learning in childhood as other children have to learn. We find ourselves fancying that he must always have known how to read and write and speak. We think of the experiences of his youth and young manhood as altogether unlike those of any other boy or young man in the village where he grew up. This same feeling leads us to think of his temptation as so different from what temptation is to other men as to be really no temptation at all. So we are apt to think of all the human life of Jesus as being in some way lifted up out of the rank of ordinary experiences. We do not conceive of him as having the same struggles that we have in meeting trial, in enduring injury and wrong, in learning obedience, patience, meekness, submission, trust, and cheerfulness. We conceive of his friendships as somehow different from other men's. We feel that in some mysterious way his human life was supported and sustained by the deity that dwelt in him, and that he was exempt from all ordinary limiting conditions of humanity. There is no doubt that with many people this feeling of reverence has been in the way of the truest understanding of Jesus, and ofttimes those who have clung most devoutly to a belief in his deity have missed much of the comfort which comes from a proper comprehension of his humanity. Yet the story of Jesus as told in the Gospels furnishes no ground for any confusion on the subject of his human life. It represents him as subject to all ordinary human conditions excepting sin. He began life as every infant begins, in feebleness and ignorance; and there is no hint of any precocious development. He learned as every child must learn. The lessons were not gotten easily or without diligent study. He played as other boys did, and with them. The more we think of the youth of Jesus as in no marked way unlike that of those among whom he lived, the truer will our thought of him be. Millais the great artist, when he was a young man, painted an unusual picture of Jesus. He represented him as a little boy in the home at Nazareth. He has cut his finger on some carpenter's tool, and comes to his mother to have it bound up. The picture is really one of the truest of all the many pictures of Jesus, because it depicts just such a scene as ofttimes may have been witnessed in his youth. Evidently there was nothing in his life in Nazareth that drew the attention of his companions and neighbors to him in any striking way. We know that he wrought no miracles until after he had entered upon his public ministry. We can think of him as living a life of unselfishness and kindness. There was never any sin or fault in him; he always kept the law of God perfectly. But his perfection was not something startling. There was no halo about his head, no transfiguration, that awed men. We are told that he grew in favor with men as well as with God. His religion made his life beautiful and winning, but always so simple and natural that it drew no unusual attention to itself. It was richly and ideally human. So it was unto the end. Through the years of his public ministry, when his words and works burned with divine revealing, he continued to live an altogether natural human life. He ate and drank; he grew weary and faint; he was tempted in all points like as we are, and suffered, being tempted. He learned obedience by the things that he endured. He hungered and thirsted, never ministering with his divine power to any of his own needs. "In all things it behooved him to be made like unto his brethren." In nothing else is this truth more clearly shown than in the humanheartedness which was so striking a feature of the life of Jesus among men. When we think of him as the Son of God, the question arises, Did he really care for personal friendships with men and women of the human family? In the home from which he came he had dwelt from all eternity in the bosom of the Father, and had enjoyed the companionship of the highest angels. What could he find in this world of imperfect, sinful beings to meet the cravings of his heart for fellowship? Whom could he find among earth's sinful creatures worthy of his friendship, or capable of being in any real sense his personal friend? What satisfaction could his heart find in this world's deepest and holiest love? What light can a dim candle give to the sun? Does the great ocean need the little dewdrop that hides in the bosom of the rose? What blessing or inspiration of love can any poor, marred, stained life give to the soul of the Christ? Yet the Gospels abound with evidences that Jesus did crave human love, that he found sweet comfort in the friendships which he made, and that much of his keenest suffering was caused by failures in the love of those who ought to have been true to him as his friends. He craved affection, and even among the weak and faulty men and women about him made many very sacred attachments from which he drew strength and comfort. We must distinguish between Christ's love for all men and his friendship for particular individuals. He was in the world to reveal the Father, and all the divine compassion for sinners was in his heart. It was this mighty love that brought him to earth on the mission of redemption. It was this that impelled and constrained him in all his seeking of the lost. He had come to be the Saviour of all who would believe and follow him. Therefore he was interested in every merest fragment or shred of life. No human soul was so debased that he did not love it. But besides this universal divine love revealed in the heart of Jesus, he had his personal human friendships. A philanthropist may give his whole life to the good of his fellow-men, to their uplifting, their advancement, their education; to the liberation of the enslaved; to work among and in behalf of the poor, the sick, or the fallen. All suffering humanity has its interest for him, and makes appeal to his compassion. Yet amid the world of those whom he thus loves and wishes to help, this man will have his personal friends; and through the story of his life will run the golden threads of sweet companionships and friendships whose benedictions and inspirations will be secrets of strength, cheer, and help to him in all his toil in behalf of others. Jesus gave all his rich and blessed life to the service of love. Power was ever going out from him to heal, to comfort, to cheer, to save. He was continually emptying out from the full fountain of his own heart cupfuls of rich life to reinvigorate other lives in their faintness and exhaustion. One of the sources of his own renewing and replenishing was in the friendships he had among men and women. What friends are to us in our human hunger and need, the friends of Jesus were to him. He craved companionship, and was sorely hurt when men shut their doors in his face. There are few more pathetic words in the New Testament than that short sentence which tells of his rejection, "He came unto his own, and his own received him not." Another pathetic word is that which describes the neglect of those who ought to have been ever eager to show him hospitality: "The foxes have holes, and the birds of the air have nests; but the Son of man hath not where to lay his head." Even the beasts of the field and the birds of the heaven had warmer welcome in this world than he in whose heart was the most gentle love that earth ever knew. Another word which reveals the deep hunger of the heart of Jesus for friendship and companionship was spoken in view of the hour when even his own apostles would leave him: "Behold, the hour cometh, yea, is now come, that ye shall be scattered, every man to his own, and shall leave me alone." The experience of the garden of Gethsemane also shows in a wonderful way the Lord's craving for sympathy. In his great sorrow he wished to have his best friends near him, that he might lean on them, and draw from their love a little strength for his hour of bitter need. It was an added element in the sorrow of that night that he failed to get the help from human sympathy which he yearned for and expected. When he came back each time after his supplication, he found his apostles sleeping. These are some of the glimpses which we get in the Gospel story of the longing heart of Jesus. He loved deeply, and sought to be loved. He was disappointed when he failed to find affection. He welcomed love wherever it came to him,--the love of the poor, the gratitude of those whom he had helped, the trusting affection of little children. We can never know how much the friendship of the beloved disciple was to Jesus. What a shelter and comfort the Bethany home was to him, and how his strength was renewed by its sweet fellowship! How even the smallest kindnesses were a solace to his heart! How he was comforted by the affection and the ministries of the women-friends who followed him! In the chapters of this book which follow, the attempt is made to tell the story of some of the friendships of Jesus, gathering up the threads from the Gospel pages. Sometimes the material is abundant, as in the case of Peter and John; sometimes we have only a glimpse or two in the record, albeit enough to reveal a warm and tender friendship, as in the case of the Bethany sisters, and of Andrew, and of Joseph. It may do us good to study these friendship stories. It will at least show us the humanheartedness of Jesus, and his method in blessing and saving the world. The central fact in every true Christian life is a personal friendship with Jesus. Men were called to follow him, to leave all and cleave to him, to believe on him, to trust him, to love him, to obey him; and the result was the transformation of their lives into his own beauty. That which alone makes one a Christian is being a friend of Jesus. Friendship transforms--all human friendship transforms. We become like those with whom we live in close, intimate relations. Life flows into life, heart and heart are knit together, spirits blend, and the two friends become one. We have but little to give to Christ; yet it is a comfort to know that our friendship really is precious to him, and adds to his joy, poor and meagre though its best may be--but he has infinite blessings to give to us. "I call you friends." No other gift he gives to us can equal in value the love and friendship of his heart. When Cyrus gave Artabazus, one of his courtiers, a gold cup, he gave Chrysanthus, his favorite, only a kiss. And Artabazus said to Cyrus, "The cup you gave me was not so good gold as the kiss you gave Chrysanthus." No good man's money is ever worth so much as his love. Certainly the greatest honor of this earth, greater than rank or station or wealth, is the friendship of Jesus Christ. And this honor is within the reach of every one. "Henceforth I call you not servants ... I have called you friends." "Ye are my friends, if ye do whatsoever I command you." The stories of the friendships of Jesus when he was on the earth need cause no one to sigh, "I wish that I had lived in those days, when Jesus lived among men, that I might have been his friend too, feeling the warmth of his love, my life enriched by contact with his, and my spirit quickened by his love and grace!" The friendships of Jesus, whose stories we read in the New Testament, are only patterns of friendships into which we may enter, if we are ready to accept what he offers, and to consecrate our life to faithfulness and love. The friendship of Jesus includes all other blessings for time and for eternity. "All things are yours, and ye are Christ's." His friendship sanctifies all pure human bonds--no friendship is complete which is not woven of a threefold cord. If Christ is our friend, all life is made rich and beautiful to us. The past, with all of sacred loss it holds, lives before us in him. The future is a garden-spot in which all life's sweet hopes, that seem to have perished on the earth, will be found growing for us. "Fields of the past to thee shall be no more The burialground of friendships once in bloom, But the seed-plots of a harvest on before, And prophecies of life with larger room For things that are behind. Live thou in Christ, and thy dead past shall be Alive forever with eternal day; And planted on his bosom thou shall see The flowers revived that withered on the way Amid the things behind." CHAPTER II. JESUS AND HIS MOTHER. Sleep, sleep, mine Holy One! My flesh, my Lord!--what name? I do not know A name that seemeth not too high or low, Too far from me or heaven. My Jesus, _that_ is best! * * * Sleep, sleep, my saving One. MRS. BROWNING. The first friend a child has in this world is its mother. It comes here an utter stranger, knowing no one; but it finds love waiting for it. Instantly the little stranger has a friend, a bosom to nestle in, an arm to encircle it, a hand to minister to its helplessness. Love is born with the child. The mother presses it to her breast, and at once her heart's tendrils twine about it. It is a good while before the child becomes conscious of the wondrous love that is bending over it, yet all the time the love is growing in depth and tenderness. In a thousand ways, by a thousand delicate arts, the mother seeks to waken in her child a response to her own yearning love. At length the first gleams of answering affection appear--the child has begun to love. From that hour the holy friendship grows. The two lives become knit in one. When God would give the world a great man, a man of rare spirit and transcendent power, a man with a lofty mission, he first prepares a woman to be his mother. Whenever in history we come upon such a man, we instinctively begin to ask about the character of her on whose bosom he nestled in infancy, and at whose knee he learned his life's first lessons. We are sure of finding here the secret of the man's greatness. When the time drew nigh for the incarnation of the Son of God, we may be sure that into the soul of the woman who should be his mother, who should impart her own life to him, who should teach him his first lessons, and prepare him for his holy mission, God put the loveliest and the best qualities that ever were lodged in any woman's life. We need not accept the teaching that exalts the mother of Jesus to a place beside or above her divine Son. We need have no sympathy whatever with the dogma that ascribes worship to the Virgin Mary, and teaches that the Son on his throne must be approached by mortals through his more merciful, more gentle-hearted mother. But we need not let these errors concerning Mary obscure the real blessedness of her character. We remember the angel's greeting, "Blessed art thou among women." Hers surely was the highest honor ever conferred upon any woman. "Say of me as the Heavenly said, 'Thou art The blessedest of women!'--blessedest, Not holiest, not noblest,--no high name, Whose height misplaced may pierce me like a shame, When I sit meek in heaven!" We know how other men, men of genius, rarely ever have failed to give to their mothers the honor of whatever of greatness or worth they had attained. But somehow we shrink from saying that Jesus was influenced by his mother as other good men have been; that he got from her much of the beauty and the power of his life. We are apt to fancy that his mother was not to him what mothers ordinarily are to their children; that he did not need mothering as other children do; that by reason of the Deity indwelling, his character unfolded from within, without the aid of home teaching and training, and the other educational influences which do so much in shaping the character of children in common homes. But there is no Scriptural ground for this feeling. The humanity of Jesus was just like our humanity. He came into the world just as feeble and as untaught as any other child that ever was born. No mother was ever more to her infant than Mary was to Jesus. She taught him all his first lessons. She gave him his first thoughts about God, and from her lips he learned the first lispings of prayer. Jewish mothers cared very tenderly for their children. They taught them with unwearying patience the words of God. One of the rabbis said, "God could not be everywhere, and therefore he made mothers." This saying shows how sacred was the Jewish thought of the mother's work for her child. Every true mother feels a sense of awe in her soul when she bends over her own infant child; but in the case of Mary we may be sure that the awe was unusual, because of the mystery of the child's birth. In the annunciation the angel had said to her, "That which is to be born shall be called holy, the Son of God." Then the night of her child's birth there was a wondrous vision of angels, and the shepherds who beheld it hastened into the town; and as they looked upon the baby in the manger, they told the wondering mother what they had seen and heard. We are told that Mary kept all these things, pondering them in her heart. While she could not understand what all this meant, she knew at least that hers was no common child; that in some wonderful sense he was the Son of God. This consciousness must have given to her motherhood an unusual thoughtfulness and seriousness. How close to God she must have lived! How deep and tender her love must have been! How pure and clean her heart must have been kept! How sweet and patient she must have been as she moved about at her tasks, in order that no harsh or bitter thought or feeling might ever cast a shadow upon the holy life which had been intrusted to her for training and moulding. Only a few times is the veil lifted to give us a glimpse of mother and child. On the fortieth day he was taken to the temple, and given to God. Then it was that another reminder of the glory of this child was given to the mother. An old man, Simeon, took the infant in his arms, and spoke of him as God's salvation. As he gave the parents his parting blessing he lifted the veil, and showed them a glimmering of the future. "This child is set for the fall and rising again of many in Israel; and for a sign which shall be spoken against." Then to the mother he said solemnly, "Yea, a sword shall pierce through thine own soul also." This was a foretelling of the sorrow which should come to the heart of Mary, and which came again and again, until at last she saw her son on a cross. The shadow of the cross rested on Mary's soul all the years. Every time she rocked her baby to sleep, and laid him down softly, covering his face with kisses, there would come into her heart a pang as she remembered Simeon's words. Perhaps, too, words from the old prophets would come into her mind,--"He is despised and rejected of men; a man of sorrows;" "He was bruised for our iniquities,"--and the tears would come welling into her eyes. Every time she saw her child at play, full of gladness, all unconscious of any sorrow awaiting him, a nameless fear would steal over her as she remembered the ominous words which had fallen upon her ear, and which she could not forget. Soon after the presentation in the temple came the visit of the magi. Again the mother must have wondered as she heard these strangers from the East speak of her infant boy as the "King of the Jews," and saw them falling down before him in reverent worship, and then laying their offerings at his feet. Immediately following this came the flight into Egypt. How the mother must have pressed her child to her bosom as she fled with him to escape the cruel danger! By and by they returned, and from that time Nazareth was their home. Only once in the thirty years do we have a glimpse of mother and child. It was when Jesus went to his first Passover. When the time came for returning home the child tarried behind. After a painful search the mother found him in one of the porches of the temple, sitting with the rabbis, an eager learner. There is a tone of reproach in her words, "Son, why hast thou thus dealt with us? behold, thy father and I have sought thee sorrowing." She was sorely perplexed. All the years before this her son had implicitly obeyed her. He had never resisted her will, never withdrawn from her guidance. Now he had done something without asking her about it--as it were, had taken his life into his own hand. It was a critical point in the friendship of this mother and her child. It is a critical moment in the friendship of any mother and her child when the child begins to think and act for himself, to do things without the mother's guidance. The answer of Jesus is instructive: "I must be about my Father's business." There was another besides his mother to whom he owed allegiance. He was the Son of God as well as the son of Mary. Parents should remember this always in dealing with their children,--their children are more God's than theirs. It is interesting to notice what follows that remarkable experience of mother and child in the temple. Jesus returned with his mother to the lowly Nazareth home, and was subject to her. In recognizing his relation to God as his heavenly Father, he did not become any less the child of his earthly mother. He loved his mother no less because he loved God more. Obedience to the Father in heaven did not lead him to reject the rule of earthly parenthood. He went back to the quiet home, and for eighteen years longer found his Father's business in the common round of lowly tasks which made up the daily life of such a home. It would be intensely interesting to read the story of mother and son during those years, but it has not been written for us. They must have been years of wondrous beauty. Few things in this world are more beautiful than such friendships as one sometimes sees between mother and son. The boy is more the lover than the child. The two enter into the closest companionship. A sacred and inviolable intimacy is formed between them. The boy opens all his heart to his mother, telling her everything; and she, happy woman, knows how to be a boy's mother and to keep a mother's place without ever startling or checking the shy confidences, or causing him to desire to hide anything from her. The boy whispers his inmost thoughts to his mother, and listens to her wise and gentle counsels with loving eagerness and childish faith-- "Her face his holy skies; The air he breathes his mother's breath, His stars his mother's eyes." Not always are mother and boy such friends. Some mothers do not think it worth while to give the time and thought necessary to enter into a boy's life in such confidential way. But we may be sure that between the mother of Jesus and her son the most tender and intimate friendship existed. He opened his soul to her; and she gave him not a mother's love only, but also a mother's wise counsel and strong, inspiring sympathy. It is almost certain that sorrow entered the Nazareth home soon after the visit to Jerusalem. Joseph is not mentioned again; and it is supposed that he died, leaving Mary a widow. On Jesus, as the eldest son, the care of the mother now rested. Knowing the deep love of his heart and his wondrous gentleness, it is easy for us to understand with what unselfish devotion he cared for his mother after she was widowed. He had learned the carpenter's trade; and day after day, early and late, he wrought with his hands to provide for her wants. Very sacred must have been the friendship of mother and son in those days. Her gentleness, quietness, hopefulness, humility, and prayerfulness, must have wrought themselves into the very tissue of his character as he moved through the days in such closeness. Unto the end he carried in his soul the benedictions of his mother's life. The thirty silent years of preparation closed, and Jesus went out to begin his public ministry. The first glimpse we have of the mother is at the wedding at Cana. Jesus was there too. The wine failed, and Mary went to Jesus about the matter. "They have no wine," she said. Evidently she was expecting some manifesting of supernatural power. All the years since his birth she had been carrying in her heart a great wonder of expectation. Now he had been baptized, and had entered upon his work as the Messiah. Had not the time come for miracle-working? The answer of Jesus startles us: "Woman, what have I to do with thee? mine hour is not yet come." The words seem to have in them a tone of reproof, or of repulse, unlike the words of so gentle and loving a son. But really there is in his reply nothing inconsistent with all that we have learned to think of the gentleness and lovingness of the heart of Jesus. In substance he said only that he must wait for his Father's word before doing any miracle, and that the time for this had not yet come. Evidently his mother understood him. She was not hurt by his words, nor did she regard them as a refusal to help in the emergency. Her words to the servants show this: "Whatsoever he saith unto you, do it." She had learned her lesson of sweet humility. She knew now that God had the highest claim on her son's obedience, and she quietly waited for the divine voice. The holy friendship was not marred. There is another long period in which no mention is made of Mary. Probably she lived a secluded life. But one day at Capernaum, in the midst of his popularity, when Jesus was preaching to a great crowd, she and his brothers appeared on the outside of the throng, and sent a request that they might speak with him. It seems almost certain that the mother's errand was to try to get him away from his exhausting work; he was imperilling his health and his safety. Jesus refused to be interrupted. But it was really only an assertion that nothing must come between him and his duty. The Father's business always comes first. Human ties are second to the bond which binds us to God. No dishonor was done by Jesus to his mother in refusing to be drawn away by her loving interest from his work. The holiest human friendship must never keep us from doing the will of God. Other mothers in their love for their children have made the same mistake that the mother of Jesus made,--have tried to withhold or withdraw their children from service which seemed too hard or too costly. The voice of tenderest love must be quenched when it would keep us from doing God's will. The next mention of the mother of Jesus is in the story of the cross. Ah, holy mother-love, constant and faithful to the end! At length Simeon's prophecy is fulfilled,--a sword is piercing the mother's soul also. "Jesus was crucified on the cross; Mary was crucified at the foot of the cross." Note only one feature of the scene,--the mother-love there is in it. The story of clinging mother-love is a wonderful one. A mother never forsakes her child. Mary is not the only mother who has followed a son to a cross. Here we have the culmination of this mother's friendship for her son. She is watching beside his cross. O friendship constant, faithful, undying, and true! But what of the friendship of the dying son for his mother? In his own anguish does he notice her? Yes; one of the seven words spoken while he hung on the cross told of changeless love in his heart for her. Mary was a woman of more than fifty, "with years before her too many for remembering, too few for forgetting." The world would be desolate for her when her son was gone. So he made provision for her in the shelter of a love in which he knew she would be safe. As he saw her led away by the beloved disciple to his own home, part of the pain of dying was gone from his own heart. His mother would have tender care. The story of this blessed friendship should sweeten forever in Christian homes the relation of mother and child. It should make every mother a better woman and a better mother. It should make every child a truer, holier child. Every home should have its sacred friendships between parents and children. Thus something of heaven will be brought down to our dull earth; for, as Mrs. Browning says,-- In the pure loves of child and mother Two human loves make one divine. CHAPTER III. JESUS AND HIS FORERUNNER. Where is the lore the Baptist taught, The soul unswerving and the fearless tongue? The much-enduring wisdom, sought By lonely prayer the haunted rocks among? Who counts it gain His light should wane, So the whole world to Jesus throng? KEBLE. The two Johns appear in many devotional pictures, one on each side of Jesus. Yet the two men were vastly unlike. The Baptist was a wild, rugged man of the desert; the apostle was the representative of the highest type of gentleness and spiritual refinement. The former was the consummate flower of Old Testament prophecy; the latter was the ripe fruit of New Testament evangelism. They appear in history one really on each side of Jesus; one going before him to prepare the way for him, and the other coming after him to declare the meaning of his mission. They were united in Jesus; both of them were his friends. It seems probable that Jesus and the Baptist had never met until the day Jesus came to be baptized. This is not to be wondered at. Their childhood homes were not near to each other. Besides, John probably turned away at an early age from the abodes of men to make his home in the desert. He may never have visited Jesus, and it is not unlikely that Jesus had never visited him. Yet their mothers are said to have been cousins. The stories of their births are woven together in an exquisite way, in the opening chapters of the Gospels. To the same high angel fell the privilege of announcing to the two women, in turn, the tidings which in each case meant so much of honor and blessedness. It would have seemed natural for the boys to grow up together, their lives blending in childhood association and affection. It is interesting to think what the effect would have been upon the characters of both if they had been reared in close companionship. How would John's stern, rugged, unsocial nature have affected the gentle spirit of Jesus? What impression would the brightness, sweetness, and affectionateness of Jesus have made on the temper and disposition of John? When at last the two men met, it is evident that a remarkable effect was produced on John. There was something in the face of Jesus that almost overpowered the fearless preacher of the desert. John had been waiting and watching for the Coming One, whose herald and harbinger he was. One day he came and asked to be baptized. John had never before hesitated to administer the rite to any one who stood before him; for in every one he saw a sinner needing repentance and remission of sins. But he who now stood before him waiting to be baptized bore upon his face the light of an inner holiness which awed the rugged preacher. "I have need to be baptized of thee," said John; but Jesus insisted, and the rite was administered. John's awe must have been deepened by what now took place. Jesus looked up in earnest prayer, and then from the open heaven a white dove descended, resting on the head of the Holy One. An ancient legend tells that from the shining light the whole valley of the Jordan was illuminated. A divine voice was heard also, declaring that this Jesus was the Son of God. Thus it was that the friendship between Jesus and the Baptist began. It was a wonderful moment. For centuries prophets had been pointing forward to the Messiah who was to come; now John saw him. He had baptized him, thus introducing him to his great mission. This made John the greatest of the prophets; he saw the Messiah whom his predecessors had only foretold. John's rugged nature must have been wondrously softened by this meeting with Jesus. Brief was the duration of the friendship of the forerunner and the Messiah; but there are evidences that it was strong, deep, and true. There were several occasions on which this friendship proved its sincerity and its loyalty. Reports of the preaching of John, and of the throngs who were flocking to him, reached Jerusalem; and a deputation was sent by the Sanhedrin to the desert to ask him who he was. They had begun to think that this man who was attracting such attention might be the Messiah for whom they were looking. But John was careful to say that he was not the Christ. "Art thou Elias? ... Art thou that prophet?" He answered "No."--"Who art thou, then?" they asked, "that we may give an answer to them that sent us. What sayest thou of thyself?" This gave John an opportunity to claim the highest honor for himself if he had been disposed to do so. He might have admitted that he was the Messiah, or quietly permitted the impression to be cherished; and in the state of feeling and expectation then prevailing among the people, there would have been a great uprising to carry him to a throne. But his loyalty to truth and to the Messiah whose forerunner he was, was so strong that he firmly resisted the opportunity, with whatever of temptation it may have had for him. "I am a voice," he answered--nothing but a voice. Thus he showed an element of greatness in his lowly estimate of himself. True, a voice may do great things. It may speak words which shall ring through the world with a blessing in every reverberation. It may arouse men to action, may comfort sorrow, cheer discouragement, start hope in despairing hearts. If one is only a voice, and if there be truth and love and life in the voice, its ministry may be rich in its influence. Much of the Bible is but a voice coming out of the depths of the past. No one knows the names of all the holy men who, moved by the Spirit, wrote the wonderful words. Many of the sweetest of the Psalms are anonymous. Yet no one prizes the words less, nor is their power to comfort, cheer, inspire, or quicken any less, because they are only voices. After all, it is a great thing to be a voice to which men and women will listen, and whose words do good wherever they go. Yet John's speaking thus of himself shows his humility. He sought no earthly praise or recognition. He was not eager to have his name sounding on people's lips. He knew well how empty such honor was. He wished only that he might be a voice, speaking out the word he had been sent into the world to speak. He knew that he had a message to deliver, and he was intent on delivering it. It mattered not who or what he was, but it did matter whether his "word or two" were spoken faithfully or not. Every one of us has a message from God to men. We are in this world for a purpose, with a mission, with something definite to do for God and man. It makes very little difference whether people hear about us or not, whether we are praised, loved, and honored, or despised, hated, and rejected, so that we get our word spoken into the air, and set going in men's hearts and lives. John was a worthy voice, and his tones rang out with clarion clearness for truth and for God's kingdom. It was his mission to go in advance of the King, and tell men that he was coming, calling them to prepare the way before him. This he did; and when the King came, John's work was done. The deputation asked him also why he was baptizing if he was neither the Christ nor Elijah. Again John honored his friend by saying, "I baptize with water: but there standeth one among you, whom ye know not; he it is, who coming after me is preferred be fore me, whose shoe's latchet I am not worthy to unloose." John set the pattern for friendship for Christ for all time. It is,-- "None of self, and all of thee." It is pitiable to see how some among the Master's followers fail to learn this lesson. They contend for high places, where they may have prominence among men, where their names shall have honor. The only truly great in Christ's sight are those who forget self that they may honor their Lord. John said he was not worthy to unloose the shoe-latchet of his friend, so great, so kingly, so worthy was that friend. He said his own work was only external, while the One standing unrecognized among the people had power to reach their hearts. It were well if every follower of Christ understood so perfectly the place of his own work with relation to Christ's. Another of John's testimonies to Jesus was made a little later, perhaps as Jesus returned after his temptation. Pointing to a young man who was approaching, he said, "Behold the Lamb of God, which taketh away the sin of the world." It was a high honor which in these words John gave to his friend. That friend was the bearer of the world's sin and of its sorrow. It is not likely that at this early stage John knew of the cross on which Jesus should die for the world. In some way, however, he saw a vision of Jesus saving his people from their sin, and so proclaimed him to the circle that stood round him. He proclaimed him also as the Son of God, thus adding yet another honor to his friend. A day or two later John again pointed Jesus out to two of his own disciples as the Lamb of God, and then bade them leave him and go after the Messiah. This is another mark of John's noble friendship for Jesus,--he gave up his own disciples that they might go after the new Master. It is not easy to do this. It takes a brave man to send his friends away, that they may give their love and service to another master. There is further illustration of John's loyal friendship for Jesus. It seems that John's disciples were somewhat jealous of the growing fame and influence of Jesus. The throngs that followed their master were now turning after the new teacher. In their great love for John, and remembering how he had witnessed for Jesus, and called attention to him, before he began his ministry and after, they felt that it was scarcely right that Jesus should rise to prosperity at the expense of him who had so helped him rise. If John had been less noble than he was, and his friendship for Jesus less loyal, such words from his followers would have embittered him. There are people who do irreparable hurt by such flattering sympathy. A spark of envy is often fanned into a disastrous flame by friends who come with such appeals to the evil that is in every man. But John's answer shows a soul of wondrous nobleness. He had not been hurt by popularity, as so many men are. Not all good people pass through times of great success, with its attendant elation and adulation, and come out simple-hearted and lowly. Then even a severer test of character is the time of waning favor, when the crowds melt away, and when another is receiving the applause. Many a man, in such an experience, fails to retain sweetness of spirit, and becomes soured and embittered. John stood both tests. Popularity did not make him vain. The losing of his fame did not embitter him. He kept humble and sweet through it all. The secret was his unwavering loyalty to his own mission as the harbinger of the Messiah. "A man can receive nothing, except it be given him from heaven," he said. The power over men which he had wielded for a time had been given to him. Now the power had been withdrawn, and given to Jesus. It was all right, and he should not complain of what Heaven had done. Then John reminded his friends that he had distinctly said that he was not the Christ, but was only one sent before him. In a wondrously expressive way he explained his relation to Jesus. Jesus was the bridegroom, and John was only the bridegroom's friend, and he rejoiced in the bridegroom's honor. It was meet that the bridegroom should have the honor, and that his friend should retire into the background, and there be forgotten. Thus John showed his loyalty to Jesus by rejoicing in his popular favor, when the effect was to leave John himself deserted and alone after a season of great fame. "He must increase, but I must decrease," said the noble-hearted forerunner. John's work was done, and the work of Jesus was now beginning. John understood this, and with devoted loyalty, unsurpassed in all the bright story of friendship, he rejoiced in the success that Jesus was winning, though it was at his own cost. This is a model of noble friendship for all time. Envy poisons much human friendship. It is not easy to work loyally for the honor and advancement of another when he is taking our place, and drawing our crowds after him. But in any circumstances envy is despicable and most undivine. Then even in our friendship for Christ we need to be ever most watchful lest we allow self to creep in. We must learn to care only for his honor and the advancement of his kingdom, and never to think of ourselves. So much for the friendship of John for Jesus. On several occasions we find evidences of very warm friendship in Jesus for John. John's imprisonment was a most pathetic episode in his life. It came from his fidelity as a preacher of righteousness. In view of all the circumstances, we can scarcely wonder that in his dreary prison he began almost to doubt, certainly to question, whether Jesus were indeed the Messiah. But it must be noted that even in this painful experience John was loyal to Jesus. When the question arose in his mind, he sent directly to Jesus to have it answered. If only all in whose minds spiritual doubts or questions arise would do this, good, and not evil, would result in every case; for Christ always knows how to reassure perplexed faith. It was after the visit of the messengers from John that Jesus spoke the strong words which showed his warm friendship for his forerunner. John had not forfeited his place in the Master's heart by his temporary doubting. Jesus knew that his disciples might think disparagingly of John because he had sent the messengers with the question; and as soon as they were gone he began to speak about John, and to speak about him in terms of highest praise. It is an evidence of true friendship that one speaks well of one's friend behind his back. Some professed friendship will not stand this test. But Jesus spoke not a word of censure concerning John after the failure of his faith. On the other hand, he eulogized him in a most remarkable way. He spoke of his stability and firmness; John was not a reed shaken with the wind, he was not a self-indulgent man, courting ease and loving luxury; he was a man ready for any self-denial and hardship. Jesus added to this eulogy of John's qualities as a man, the statement that no greater soul than his had ever been born in this world. This was high praise indeed. It illustrates the loyalty of Jesus to the friend who had so honored him and was suffering now because of faithfulness to truth and duty. There is another incident which shows how much Jesus loved John. It was after the foul murder of the Baptist. The record is very brief. The friends of the dead prophet gathered in the prison, and, taking up the headless body of their master, they carried it away to a reverent, tearful burial. Then they went and told Jesus. The narrative says, "When Jesus heard of it, he departed thence by ship into a desert place apart." His sorrow at the tragic death of his faithful friend made him wish to be alone. When the Jews saw Jesus weeping beside the grave of Lazarus they said, "Behold how he loved him!" No mention is made of tears when Jesus heard of the death of John; but he immediately sought to break away from the crowds, to be alone, and there is little doubt that when he was alone he wept. He loved John, and grieved over his death. The story of the friendship of Jesus and John is very beautiful. John's loyalty and faithfulness must have brought real comfort to Jesus. Then to John the friendship of Jesus must have been full of cheer. As we read the story of the Baptist's life, with its tragic ending, we are apt to feel that he died too soon. He began his public work with every promise of success. For a few months he preached with great power, and thousands flocked to hear him. Then came the waning of his popularity, and soon he was shut up in a prison, and in a little while was cruelly murdered to humor the whim of a wicked and vengeful woman. Was it worth while to be born, and to go through years of severe training, only for such a fragment of living? To this question we can answer only that John had finished his work. He came into the world--a man sent from God--to do just one definite thing,--to prepare the way for the Messiah. When the Messiah had come, John's work was done. As the friend of Christ he went home; and elsewhere now, in other realms perhaps, he is still serving his Lord. CHAPTER IV. JESUS' CONDITIONS OF FRIENDSHIP. But if himself he come to thee, and stand * * * And reach to thee himself the Holy Cup, * * * Pallid and royal, saying, "Drink with me," Wilt thou refuse? Nay, not for paradise! The pale brow will compel thee, the pure hands Will minister unto thee; thou shalt take Of that communion through the solemn depths Of the dark waters of thine agony, With heart that praises him, that yearns to him The closer through that hour. _Ugo Bassi's Sermon._ Every thoughtful reader of the Gospels notes two seemingly opposing characteristics of Christ's invitations,--their wideness and their narrowness. They were broad enough to include all men; yet by their conditions they were so narrowed down that only a few seemed able to accept them. The gospel was for the world. It was as broad as the love of God, and that is absolutely without limit. God loved the world. When Jesus went forth among men his heart was open to all. He was the patron of no particular class. For him there were no outcasts whom he might not touch, with whom he might not speak in public, or privately, or who were excluded from the privileges of friendship with him. He spoke of himself as the Son of man--not the son of a man, but the Son of man, and therefore the brother of every man. Whoever bore the image of humanity had a place in his heart. Wherever he found a human need it had an instant claim on his sympathy, and he was eager to impart a blessing. No man had fallen so low in sin that Jesus passed him by without love and compassion. To be a man was the passport to his heart. The invitations which Jesus gave all bear the stamp of this exceeding broadness. "Come unto me, all ye that labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest." "Him that cometh to me I will in no wise cast out." "If any man thirst, let him come unto me, and drink." Such words as these were ever falling from his lips. No man or woman, hearing these invitations, could ever say, "There is nothing there for me." There was no hint of possible exclusion for any one. Not a word was ever said about any particular class of persons who might come,--the righteous, the respectable, the cultured, the unsoiled, the well-born, the well-to-do. Jesus had no such words in his vocabulary. Whoever labored and was heavy laden was invited. Whoever would come should be received--would not in any wise be cast out. Whoever was athirst was bidden to come and drink. Some teachers are not so good as their teachings. They proclaim the love of God for every man, and then make distinctions in their treatment of men. Professing love for all, they gather their skirts close about them when fallen ones pass by. But Jesus lived out all of the love of God that he taught. It was literally true in his case, that not one who came to him was ever cast out. He disregarded the proprieties of righteousness which the religious teachers of his own people had formulated and fixed. They read in the synagogue services, "Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself," but they limited the word neighbor until it included only the circle of the socially and spiritually _élite_. Jesus taught that a man's neighbor is a fellow-man in need, whoever he may be. Then, when the lost and the outcast came to him they found the love of God indeed incarnate in him. At one time we read that all the publicans and sinners drew near unto him to hear him. The religious teachers of the Jews found sore fault with him, saying, "This man receiveth sinners, and eateth with them." But he vindicated his course by telling them that he had come for the very purpose of seeking the lost ones. On another occasion he said that he was a physician, and that the physician's mission was not to the whole, but to the sick. He had come not to call the righteous, but sinners, to repentance. A poor woman who was a sinner, having heard his gracious invitation, "Come unto me, all ye that labor and are heavy laden," came to his feet, at once putting his preaching to the test. She came weeping, and, falling at his feet, wet them with her tears, and then wiped them with her dishevelled hair and kissed them. Then she took an alabaster box, and breaking it, poured the ointment on his feet. It was a violation of all the proprieties to permit such a woman to stay at his feet, making such demonstrations. If he had been a Jewish rabbi, he would have thrust her away with execrations, as bringing pollution in her touch. But Jesus let the woman stay and finish her act of penitence and love, and then spoke words which assured her of forgiveness and peace. "She sat and wept, and with her untressed hair Still wiped the feet she was so blest to touch; And he wiped off the soiling of despair From her sweet soul, because she loved so much." This is but one of the many proofs in Jesus' life of the sincerity of the wide invitations he gave. Continually the lost and fallen came to him, for there was something in him that made it easy for them to come and tell him all the burden of their sin and their yearning for a better life. Even one whom he afterward chose as an apostle was a publican when Jesus called him to be his disciple. He took him in among his friends, into his own inner household; and now his name is on one of the foundations of the heavenly city, as an apostle of the Lamb. Thus we see how broad was the love of Christ, both in word and in act. Toward every human life his heart yearned. He had a blessing to bestow upon every soul. Whosoever would might be a friend of Jesus, and come in among those who stood closest to him. Not one was shut out. Then, there is another class of words which appear to limit these wide invitations and this gracious love. Again and again Jesus seems to discourage discipleship. When men would come, he bids them consider and count the cost before they decide. One passage tells of three aspirants for discipleship, for all of whom he seems to have made it hard to follow him. One man came to him, and with glib and easy profession said, "I will follow thee whithersoever thou goest." This seemed all that could have been asked. No man could do more. Yet Jesus discouraged this ardent scribe. He saw that he did not know what he was saying, that he had not counted the cost, and that his devotion would fail in the face of the hardship and self-denial which discipleship would involve. So he answered, "The foxes have holes, and the birds of the air have nests; but the Son of man hath not where to lay his head." That is, he painted a picture of his own poverty and homelessness, as if to say, "That is what it will mean for you to follow me; are you ready for it?" Then Jesus turned to another, and said to him, "Follow me." But this man asked time. "Lord, suffer me first to go and bury my father." This seemed a reasonable request. Filial duties stand high in all inspired teaching. Yet Jesus said, "No; leave the dead to bury their own dead; but go thou and publish abroad the kingdom of God." Discipleship seems severe in its demands if even a sacred duty of love to a father must be foregone that the man might go instantly to his work as a missionary. There was a third case. Another man, overhearing what had been said, proposed also to become a disciple--but not yet. "I will follow thee; but first suffer me to bid farewell to them that are at my house." That, too, appeared only a fit thing to do; but again the answer seems stern and severe. "No man, having put his hand to the plough, and looking back, is fit for the kingdom of God." Even the privilege of running home to say "Good-by" must be denied to him who follows Jesus. These incidents show, not that Jesus would make it hard and costly for men to be his disciples, but that discipleship must be unconditional, whatever the cost, and that even the holiest duties of human love must be made secondary to the work of Christ's kingdom. Another marked instance of like teaching was in the case of the young ruler who wanted to know the way of life. We try to make it easy for inquirers to begin to follow Christ, but Jesus set a hard task for this rich young man. He must give up all his wealth, and come empty-handed with the new Master. Why did he so discourage this earnest seeker? He saw into his heart, and perceived that he could not be a true disciple unless he first won a victory over himself. The issue was his money or Jesus--which? The way was made so hard that for that day, at least, the young man turned away, clutching his money, leaving Jesus. Really, a like test was made in every discipleship. Those who followed him left all, and went empty-handed with him. They were required to give up father and mother, and wife and children, and lands, and to take up their cross and follow him. Why were the broad invitations of the heart of Jesus so narrowed in their practical application? The answer is very simple. Jesus was the revealing of God--God manifest in the flesh. He had come into this world not merely to heal a few sick people, to bring back joy to a few darkened homes by the restoring of their dead, to formulate a system of moral and ethical teachings, to start a wave of kindliness and a ministry of mercy and love; he had come to save a lost world, to lift men up out of sinfulness into holiness. There was only one way to do this,--men must be brought back into loyalty to God. Jesus astonishes us by the tremendous claims and demands he makes. He says that men must come unto him if they would find rest; that they must believe on him if they would have everlasting life; that they must love him more than any human friend; that they must obey him with absolute, unquestioning obedience; that they must follow him as the supreme and only guide of their life, committing all their present and eternal interests into his hands. In a word, he puts himself deliberately into the place of God, demanding for himself all that God demands, and then promising to those who accept him all the blessings that God promises to his children. This was the way Jesus sought to save men. As the human revealing of God, coming down close to humanity, and thus bringing God within their reach, he said, "Believe on me, love me, trust me, and follow me, and I will lift you up to eternal blessedness." While the invitation was universal, the blessings it offered could be given only to those who would truly receive Christ as the Son of God. If Jesus seemed to demand hard things of those who would follow him, it was because in no other way could men be saved. No slight and easy bond would bind them to him, and only by their attachment to him could they be led into the kingdom of God. If he sometimes seemed to discourage discipleship, it was that no one might be deceived as to the meaning of the new life to which Jesus was inviting men. He would have no followers who did not first count the cost, and know whether they were ready to go with him. Men could be lifted up into a heavenly life only by a friendship with Jesus which would prove stronger than all other ties. Religion, therefore, is a passion for Christ. "I have only one passion," said Zinzendorf, "and that is he." Love for Christ is the power that during these nineteen centuries has been transforming the world. Law could never have done it, though enforced by the most awful majesty. The most perfect moral code, though proclaimed with supreme authority, would never have changed darkness to light, cruelty to humaneness, rudeness to gentleness. What is it that gives the gospel its resistless power? It is the Person at the heart of it. Men are not called to a religion, to a creed, to a code of ethics, to an ecclesiastical system,--they are called to love and follow a Person. But what is it in Jesus that so draws men, that wins their allegiance away from every other master, that makes them ready to leave all for his sake, and to follow him through peril and sacrifice, even to death? Is it his wonderful teaching? "No man ever spake like this man." Is it his power as revealed in his miracles? Is it his sinlessness? The most malignant scrutiny could find no fault in him. Is it the perfect beauty of his character? Not one nor all of these will account for the wonderful attraction of Jesus. Love is the secret. He came into the world to reveal the love of God--he was the love of God in human flesh. His life was all love. In a most wonderful way during all his life did he reveal love. Men saw it in his face, and felt it in his touch, and heard it in his voice. This was the great fact which his disciples felt in his life. His friendship was unlike any friendship they had ever seen before, or even dreamed of. It was this that drew them to him, and made them love him so deeply, so tenderly. Nothing but love will kindle love. Power will not do it. Holiness will not do it. Gifts will not do it--men will take your gifts, and then repay you with hatred. But love begets love; heart responds to heart. Jesus loved. But the love he revealed in his life, in his tender friendship, was not the supremest manifesting of his love. He crowned it all by giving his life. "I am the good shepherd: the good shepherd giveth his life for the sheep." This was the most wonderful exhibition of love the world had ever seen. Now and then some one had been willing to die for a choice and prized friend; but Jesus died for a world of enemies. It was not for the beloved disciple and for the brave Peter that he gave his life,--then we might have understood it,--but it was for the race of sinful men that he poured out his most precious blood,--the blood of eternal redemption. It is this marvellous love in Jesus which attracts men to him. His life, and especially his cross, declares to every one: "God loves you. The Son of God gave himself for you." Jesus himself explained the wonderful secret in his words: "I, if I be lifted up from the earth, will draw all men unto me." It is on his cross that his marvellous power is most surpassingly revealed. The secret of the attraction of the cross is love. "He loved me, and he gave himself for me." Thus we find hints of what Jesus is as a friend--what he was to his first disciples, what he is to-day. His is perfect friendship. The best and richest human friendships are only little fragments of the perfect ideal. Even these we prize as the dearest things on earth. They are more precious than rarest gems. We would lose all other things rather than give up our friends. They bring to us deep joys, sweet comforts, holy inspirations. Life without friendship would be empty and lonely. Love is indeed the greatest thing. Nothing else in all the world will fill and satisfy the heart. Even earth's friendships are priceless. Yet the best and truest of them are only fragments of the perfect friendship. They bring us only little cupfuls of blessing. Their gentleness is marred by human infirmity, and sometimes turns to harshness. Their helpfulness at best is impulsive and uncertain, and ofttimes is inopportune and ill-timed. But the friendship of Jesus is perfect. Its touch is always gentle and full of healing. Its helpfulness is always wise. Its tenderness is like the warmth of a heavenly summer, brooding over the life which accepts it. All the love of God pours forth in the friendship of Jesus. To be his beloved is to be held in the clasp of the everlasting arms. "I and my Father are one," said Jesus; his friendship, therefore, is the friendship of the Father. Those who accept it in truth find their lives flooded with a wealth of blessing. Creeds have their place in the Christian life; their articles are the great framework of truth about which the fabric rises and from which it receives its strength. Worship is important, if it is vitalized by faith and the Holy Spirit. Rites have their sacred value as the channels through which divine grace is communicated. But that which is vital in all spiritual life is the friendship of Jesus, coming to us in whatever form it may. To know the love of Christ which passeth knowledge is living religion. Creeds and services and rites and sacraments bring blessing to us only as they interpret to us this love, and draw us into closer personal relations with Christ. "Behold him now where he comes! Not the Christ of our subtile creeds, But the light of our hearts, of our homes, Of our hopes, our prayers, our needs, The brother of want and blame, The lover of women and men." The friendship of Jesus takes our poor earthly lives, and lifts them up out of the dust into beauty and blessedness. It changes everything for us. It makes us children of God in a real and living sense. It brings us into fellowship with all that is holy and true. It kindles in us a friendship for Christ, turning all the tides of our life into new and holy channels. It thus transforms us into the likeness of our Friend, whose we are, and whom we serve. Thus Jesus is saving the world by renewing men's lives. He is setting up the kingdom of heaven on the earth. His subjects are won, not by force of arms, not by a display of Sinaitic terrors, but by the force of love. Men are taught that God loves them; they see that love first in the life of Jesus, then on his cross, where he died as the Lamb of God, bearing the sin of the world. Under the mighty sway of that love they yield their hearts to heaven's King. Thus love's conquests are going on. The friendship of Jesus is changing earth's sin and evil into heaven's holiness and beauty. CHAPTER V. JESUS CHOOSING HIS FRIENDS. He seeks not thine, but thee, such as thou art, For lo, his banner over thee is love. CHRISTINA G. ROSSETTI. If you loved only what were worth your love, Love were clear gain, and wholly well for you. Make the low nature better by your throes! Give earth yourself, go up for gain above. BROWNING. Nothing in life is more important than the choosing of friends. Many young people wreck all by wrong choices, taking into their life those who by their influence drag them down. Many a man's moral failure dates from the day he chose a wrong friend. Many a woman's life of sorrow or evil began with the letting into her heart of an unworthy friendship. On the other hand, many a career of happiness, of prosperity, of success, of upward climbing, may be traced to the choice of a pure, noble, rich-hearted, inspiring friend. Mrs. Browning asked Charles Kingsley, "What is the secret of your life? Tell me, that I may make mine beautiful too." He replied, "I had a friend." There are many who have reached eminence of character or splendor of life who could give the same answer. They had a friend who came into their life at the right time, sent from God, and inspired in them whatever is beautiful in their character, whatever is worthy and noble in their career. We may not put our Lord's choice of his apostles on precisely the same plane as our selecting of friends, as those men were to be more than ordinary friends; he was to put his mantle upon them, and they were to be the founders of his Church. Nevertheless, we may take lessons from the story for ourselves. Jesus chose his friends deliberately. His disciples had been gathering about him for months. It was at least a year after the beginning of his public ministry that he chose the Twelve. He had had ample time to get well acquainted with the company of his followers, to test them, to study their character, to learn their qualities of strength or weakness. Many fatal mistakes in the choosing of friends come from unfit haste. We would better take time to know our possible friends, and be sure that we know them well, before making the solemn compact that seals the attachment. Jesus made his choice of friends a subject of prayer. He spent a whole night in prayer with God, and then came in the morning to choose his apostles. If Jesus needed thus to pray before choosing his friends, how much more should we seek God's counsel before taking a new friendship into our life! We cannot know what it may mean to us, whither it may lead us, what sorrow, care, or pain it may bring to us, what touches of beauty or of marring it may put upon our soul, and we dare not admit it unless God gives it to us. In nothing do young people need more the guidance of divine wisdom than when they are settling the question of who shall be their friends. At the Last Supper Jesus said in his prayer, referring to his disciples, "Thine they were, and thou gavest them me." It makes a friendship very sacred to be able to say, "God gave it to me. God sent me this friend." In choosing his friends, Jesus thought not chiefly of the comfort and help they would be to him, but far more of what he might be to them. He did crave friendship for himself. His heart needed it just as any true human heart does. He welcomed affection whenever any one brought the gift to him. He accepted the friendship of the poor, of the children, of those he helped. We cannot understand how much the Bethany home was to him, with its confidence, its warmth, its shelter, its tender affection. One of the most pathetic incidents in the whole Gospel story is the hunger of Jesus for sympathy in the garden, when he came again and again to his human friends, hoping to find them alert in watchful love, and found them asleep. It was a cry of deep disappointment which came from his lips, "Could ye not watch with me one hour?" Jesus craved the blessing of friendship for himself, and in choosing the Twelve expected comfort and strength from his fellowship with them. But his deepest desire was that he might be a blessing to them. He came "not to be ministered unto, but to minister;" not to have friends, but to be a friend. He chose the Twelve that he might lift them up to honor and good; that he might purify, refine, and enrich their lives; that he might prepare them to be his witnesses, the conservators of his gospel, the interpreters to the world of his life and teachings. He sought nothing for himself, but every breath he drew was full of unselfish love. We should learn from Jesus that the essential quality in the heart of friendship is not the desire to have friends, but the desire to be a friend; not to get good and help from others, but to impart blessing to others. Many of the sighings for friendship which we have are merely selfish longings,--a desire for happiness, for pleasure, for the gratification of the heart, which friends would bring. If the desire were to be a friend, to do others good, to serve and to give help, it would be a far more Christlike longing, and would transform the life and character. We are surprised at the kind of men Jesus chose for his friends. We would suppose that he, the Son of God, coming from heaven, would have gathered about him as his close and intimate companions the most refined and cultivated men of his nation,--men of intelligence, of trained mind, of wide influence. Instead of going to Jerusalem, however, to choose his apostles from among rabbis, priests, scribes, and rulers, he selected them from among the plain people, largely from among fishermen of Galilee. One reason for this was that he must choose these inner friends from the company which had been drawn to him and were already his followers, in true sympathy with him; and there were none of the great, the learned, the cultured, among these. But another reason was, that he cared more for qualities of the heart than for rank, position, name, worldly influence, or human wisdom. He wanted near him only those who would be of the same mind with him, and whom he could train into loyal, sympathetic apostles. Jesus took these untutored, undisciplined men into his own household, and at once began to prepare them for their great work. It is worthy of note, that instead of scattering his teachings broadcast among the people, so that who would might gather up his words, and diffusing his influence throughout a mass of disciples, while distinctly and definitely impressing none ineffaceably, Jesus chose twelve men, and concentrated his influence upon them. He took them into the closest relations to himself, taught them the great truths of his kingdom, impressed upon them the stamp of his own life, and breathed into them his own spirit. We think of the apostles as great men; they did become great. Their influence filled many lands--fills all the world to-day. They sit on thrones, judging all the tribes of men, But all that they became, they became through the friendship of Jesus. He gave them all their greatness. He trained them until their rudeness grew into refined culture. No doubt he gave much time to them in private. They were with him continually. They saw all his life. It was a high privilege to live with Jesus those three years,--eating with him, walking with him, hearing all his conversations, witnessing his patience, his kindness, his thoughtfulness. It was almost like living in heaven; for Jesus was the Son of God--God manifest in the flesh. When Philip said to Jesus, "Lord, show us the Father, and it sufficeth us," Jesus answered, "He that hath seen me hath seen the Father." Living with Jesus was, therefore, living with God--his glory tempered by the gentle humanity in which it was veiled, but no less divine because of this. For three years the disciples lived with God. No wonder that their lives were transformed, and that the best that was in them was wooed out by the blessed summer weather of love in which they moved. "He chose twelve." Probably this was because there were twelve tribes of Israel, and the number was to be continued. One evangelist says that he sent them out two and two. Why by two and two? With all the world to evangelize, would it not have been better if they had gone out one by one? Then they would have reached twice as many points. Was it not a waste of force, of power, to send two to the same place? No doubt Jesus had reasons. It would have been lonely for one man to go by himself. If there were two, one would keep the other company. There was opposition to the gospel in those days, and it would have been hard for one to endure persecution alone. The handclasp of a brother would make the heart braver and stronger. We do not know how much we owe to our companionships, how they strengthen us, how often we would fail and sink down without them. One of the finest definitions of happiness in literature is that given by Oliver Wendell Holmes. "Happiness," said the Autocrat, "is four feet on the fender." When his beloved wife was gone, and an old friend came in to condole with him, he said, shaking his gray head, "Only two feet on the fender now." Congenial companionship is wonderfully inspiring. Aloneness is pain. You cannot kindle a fire with one coal. A log will not burn alone. But put two coals or two logs side by side, and the fire kindles and blazes and burns hotly. Jesus yoked his apostles in twos that mutual friendship might inspire them both. There was another reason for mating the Twelve. Each of them was only a fragment of a man--not one of them was full-rounded, a complete man, strong at every point. Each had a strength of his own, with a corresponding weakness. Then Jesus yoked them together so that each two made one good man. The hasty, impetuous, self-confident Peter needed the counterbalancing of the cautious, conservative Andrew. Thomas the doubter was matched by Matthew the strong believer. It was not an accidental grouping by which the Twelve fell into six parts. Jesus knew what was in man; and he yoked these men together in a way which brought out the best that was in each of them, and by thus blending their lives, turned their very faults and weaknesses into beauty and strength. He did not try to make them all alike. He made no effort to have Peter grow quiet and gentle like John, or Thomas become an enthusiastic, unquestioning believer like Matthew, He sought for each man's personality, and developed that. He knew that to try to recast Peter's tremendous energy into staidness and caution would only rob him of what was best in his nature. He found room in his apostle family for as many different types of temperament as there were men, setting the frailties of one over against the excessive virtues of the other. It is interesting to note the method of Jesus in training his apostles. The aim of true friendship anywhere is not to make life easy for one's friend, but to make something of the friend. That is God's method. He does not hurry to take away every burden under which he sees us bending. He does not instantly answer our prayer for relief, when we begin to cry to him about the difficulty we have, or the trial we are facing, or the sacrifice we are making. He does not spare us hardship, loss, or pain. He wants not to make things easy for us, but to make something of us. We grow under burdens. It is poor, mistaken fathering or mothering that thinks only of saving a child from hard tasks or severe discipline. It is weak friendship that seeks only pleasure and indulgence for a loved one. "The chief want in life is somebody who shall make us do the best we can." Jesus was the truest of friends. He never tried to make the burden light, the path smooth, the struggle easy. He wished to make men of his apostles,--men who could stand up and face the world; men whose character would reflect the beauty of holiness in its every line; men in whose hands his gospel would be safe when they went out as his ambassadors. He set for each apostle a high ideal, and then helped him to work up to the ideal. He taught them that the law of the cross is the law of life, that the saving of one's life is the losing of it, and that only when we lose our life, as men rate it, giving it out in love's service, do we really save it. It is not easy to make a man. It is said that the violin-makers in distant lands, by breaking and mending with skilful hands, at last produce instruments having a more wonderful capacity than ever was possible to them when new, unbroken and whole. Whether this be true or not of violins, it certainly is true of human lives. We cannot merely grow into strength, beauty, nobleness, and power of helpfulness, without discipline, pain, and cost. It is written even of Jesus himself that he was made perfect through suffering. There was no sin in him; but his perfectness as a sympathizing Friend, as a helpful Saviour, came through struggle, trial, pain, and sorrow. Not one of the apostles reached his royal strength as a man, as a helper of men, as a representative of Jesus, without enduring loss and suffering. No man who ever rises to a place of real worth and usefulness in the world walks on a rose-strewn path. We never can be made fit for anything beautiful and worthy without cost of pain and tears. Always it is true that-- "Things that hurt and things that mar Shape the man for perfect praise; Shock and strain and ruin are Friendlier than the smiling days." How about ourselves? Life is made very real to our thought when we remember that in all the experiences of joy and sorrow, pleasure and pain, success and failure, health and sickness, quiet or struggle, God is making men of us. Then he watches us to see if we fail. Here is a man who is passing through sore trial. For many months his wife has been a great sufferer. All the while he has been carrying a heavy burden,--a financial burden, a burden of sympathy; for every moment's pain that his wife has suffered has been like a sword in his own heart,--burdens of care, with broken nights and weary days. We may be sure of God's tender interest in the wife who suffers in the sick-room; but his eye is even more intently fixed upon him who is bearing the burden of sympathy and care. He is watching to see if the man will stand the test, and grow sweeter and stronger. Everything hard or painful in a Christian's life is another opportunity for him to get a new victory, and become a little more a man. It is remarkable how little we know about the apostles. A few of them are fairly prominent. Peter and James and John we know quite well, as their names are made familiar in the inspired story. Matthew we know by the Gospel he wrote. Thomas we remember by his doubts. Another Judas, not Iscariot, probably left us a little letter. Of the rest we know almost nothing but their names. Indeed, few Bible readers can give even the names of all the Twelve. No doubt one reason why no more is told us about the apostles is that the Bible magnifies only one name. It is not a book of biographies, but the book of the Lord Jesus Christ. Each apostle had a sacred friendship all his own with his Master, a friendship with which no other could intermeddle. We can imagine the quiet talks, the long walks with the deep communings, the openings of heart, the confessions of weakness and failure, the many prayers together. We may be very sure that through those three wonderful years there ran twelve stories of holy friendship, with their blessed revealings of the Master's heart to the heart of each man. But not a word of all this is written in the New Testament. It was too sacred to be recorded for any eye of earth to read. We may be sure, too, that each man of the Twelve did a noble work after the Ascension, but no pen wrote the narratives for preservation. There are traditions, but there is in them little that is certainly history. The Acts is not the acts of the apostles. The book tells a little about John, a little more about Peter, most about Paul, and of the others gives nothing but a list of their names in the first chapter. Yet we need not trouble ourselves about this. It is the same with the good and the useful in every age. A few names are preserved, but the great multitude are forgotten. Earth keeps scant record of its benefactors. But there is a place where every smallest kindness done in the name of Christ is recorded and remembered. Long, long ages ago a beautiful fern grew in a deep vale, nodding in the breeze. One day it fell, complaining as it sank away that no one would remember its grace and beauty. The other day a geologist went out with his hammer in the interest of his science. He struck a rock; and there in the seam lay the form of a fern--every leaf, every fibre, the most delicate traceries of the leaves. It was the fern which ages since grew and dropped into the indistinguishable mass of vegetation. It perished; but its memorial was preserved, and to-day is made manifest. So it is with the stories of the obscure apostles, and of all beautiful lives which have wrought for God and for man and have vanished from earth. Nothing is lost, nothing is forgotten. The memorials are in other lives, and some day every touch and trace and influence and impression will be revealed. In the book of The Revelation we are told that in the foundations of the heavenly city are the names of the twelve apostles of the Lamb. The New Testament does not tell the story of their worthy lives, but it is cut deep in the eternal rock, where all eyes shall see it forever. On the lives of these chosen friends Jesus impressed his own image. His blessed divine-human friendship transformed them into men who went to the ends of the world for him, carrying his name. It was a new and strange influence on the earth--this holy friendship of Jesus Christ started in the hearts and lives of the apostles. At once it began to make this old world new. Those who believed received the same wonderful friendship into their own hearts. They loved each other in a way men had never loved before. Christians lived together as one family. Ever since the day of Pentecost this wonderful friendship of Jesus has been spreading wherever the gospel has gone. It has given to the world its Christian homes with their tender affections; it has built hospitals and asylums, and established charitable institutions of all kinds in every place where its story has been told. From the cross of Jesus a wave of tenderness, like the warmth of summer, has rolled over all lands. The friendship of Jesus, left in the hearts of his apostles, as his legacy to the world, has wrought marvellously; and its ministry and influence will extend until everything unlovely shall cease from earth, and the love of God shall pervade all life. CHAPTER VI. JESUS AND THE BELOVED DISCIPLE. My Lord, my Love! in pleasant pain How often have I said, "Blessed that John who on thy breast Laid down his head." It was that contact all divine Transformed him from above, And made him amongst men the man To show forth holy love. CHRISTINA G. ROSSETTI. Love is regenerating the world. It is the love of God that is working this mighty transformation. The world was cold and loveless before Christ came. Of course there always was love in the race,--father-love, mother-love, filial love, love for country. There have always been human friendships which were constant, tender, and true, whose stories shine in bright lustre among the records of life. Natural affection there has always been, but Christian love was not in the world till Christ came. The incarnation was the breaking into this world of the love of God. For three and thirty years Jesus walked among men, pouring out love in every word, in every act, in all his works, and in every influence of his life. Then on the cross his heart broke, spilling its love upon the earth. As Mary's ointment filled all the house where it was emptied out, so the love of God poured out in Christ's life and death is filling all the world. Jesus put his love into human hearts that it might be carried everywhere. Instantly there was a wondrous change. The story of the Church after the day of Pentecost shows a spirit among the disciples of Christ which the world had never seen before. They had all things common. The strong helped the weak. They formed a fellowship which was almost heavenly. From that time to the present the leaven of love has been working. It has slowly wrought itself into every department of life,--into art, literature, music, laws, education, morals. Every hospital, orphanage, asylum, and reformatory in the world has been inspired by the love of Christ. Christian civilization is a product of this same divine affection working through the nations. Perhaps no other of the Master's disciples has done so much in the interpreting and the diffusing of the love of Christ in the world as the beloved disciple has done. Peter was the mightiest force at the beginning in the founding of the Church. Then came Paul with his tremendous missionary energy, carrying Christianity to the ends of the earth. Each of these apostles was greatest in his own way and place. But John has done more than either of these to bless the world with love. His influence is everywhere. He is likest Jesus of all the disciples. His influence is slowly spreading among men. We see it in the enlarging spirit of love among Christians, in the increase of philanthropy, in the growing sentiment that war must cease among Christian nations, all disputes to be settled by arbitration, and in the feeling of universal brotherhood which is softening all true men's hearts toward each other. It cannot but be intensely interesting to trace the story of the friendship of Jesus and John, for it was in this hallowed friendship that John learned all that he gave the world in his life and words. We are able to fix its beginning--when Jesus and John met for the first time. One day John the Baptist was standing by the Jordan with two of his disciples. One of these was Andrew; and the other we know was John--we know it because in John's own Gospel, where the incident is recorded, no name is given. The two young men had not yet seen Jesus; but the Baptist knew him, and pointed him out as he passed by, saying, "Behold the Lamb of God!" The two young men went after Jesus, no doubt eager to speak with him. Hearing their footsteps behind him, he turned, and asked them what they sought. They asked, "Rabbi, where abidest thou?" He said, "Come, and ye shall see." They gladly accepted the invitation, went with him to his lodgings, and remained until the close of the day. We have no account of what took place during those happy hours. It would be interesting to know what Jesus said to his visitors, but not a word of the conversation has been preserved. We may be sure, however, that the visit made a deep impression on John. Most days in our lives are unmarked by any special event. There are thousands of them that seem just alike, with their common routine. Once or twice, however, in the lifetime of almost every person, there is a day which is made forever memorable by some event or occurrence,--the first meeting with one who fills a large place in one's after years, a compact of sacred friendship, a revealing of some new truth, a decision which brought rich blessing, or some other experience which set the day forever apart among all days. John lived to be a very old man; but to his latest years he must have remembered the day when he first met Jesus, and began with him the friendship which brought him such blessing. We may be sure that as at their first meeting the soul of Jonathan was knit with the soul of David, and Jonathan loved him as his own soul, so at this first meeting the soul of John was knit with the soul of Jesus in a holy friendship which brought unspeakable good to his life. There was that in Jesus which at once touched all that was best in John, and called out the sweetest music of his soul. "Thou shall know him when he comes Not by any din of drums, Nor the vantage of his airs; Neither by his crown, Nor by his gown, Nor by anything he wears. He shall only well-known be By the holy harmony That his coming makes in thee!" John calls himself the "disciple whom Jesus loved." This designation gives him a distinction even among the Master's personal friends. Jesus loved all the apostles, but there were three who belonged in an inner circle. Then, of these three, John was the best beloved. We are not told what it was in John that gave him this highest honor. He was probably a cousin of Jesus, as it is thought by many that their mothers were sisters. This blood relationship, however, would not account for the strong love that bound them together. There must have been certain qualities in John which fitted him in a peculiar way for being the closest friend of Jesus. We know that John's personality was very winning. He was only a fisherman, and in his youth lacked opportunities for acquiring knowledge or refinement. If Mary and Salome were sisters, the blood of David's line was in John as well as in Jesus. It is something to have back of one's birth a long and noble descent. Besides, John was one of those rare men "who appear to be formed of finer clay than their neighbors, and cast in a gentler mould." Evidently he was by nature a man of sympathetic spirit, one born to be a friend. The study of John's writings helps us to answer our question. Not once in all his Gospel does he refer to himself by name; yet as one reads the wonderful chapters, one is aware of a spirit, an atmosphere, of sweetness. There are fields and meadows in which the air is laden with fragrance, and yet no flowers can be seen. But looking closely, one finds, low on the ground, hidden by the tall grasses, a multitude of little lowly flowers. It is from these that the perfume comes. In every community there are humble, quiet lives, almost unheard of among men, who shed a subtle influence on all about them. Thus it is in the chapters of John's Gospel. The name of the writer nowhere appears, but the charm of his spirit pervades the whole book. In the designation which he adopts for himself, there is a fine revealing of character. There is a beautiful self-obliteration in the hiding away of the author's personality that only the name and glory of Jesus may be seen. There are some good men, who, even when trying to exalt and honor their Lord, cannot resist the temptation to write their own name large, that those who see the Master may also see the Master's friend. In John there is an utter absence of this spirit. As the Baptist, when asked who he was, refused to give his name, and said he was only a voice proclaiming the coming of the King, so John spoke of himself only as one whom the Master loved. We must note, too, that he does not speak of himself as the disciple who loved Jesus,--this would have been to boast of himself as loving the Master more than the other disciples did,--but as the disciple whom Jesus loved. In this distinction lies one of the subtlest secrets of Christian peace. Our hope does not rest in our love for Jesus, but in his love for us. Our love at the best is variable in its moods. To-day it glows with warmth and joy, and we say we could die for Christ; to-morrow, in some depression, we question whether we really love him at all, our feeling responds so feebly to his name. A peace that depends on our loving Christ is as variable as our own consciousness. But when it is Christ's love for us that is our dependence, our peace is undisturbed by any earthly changes. Thus we find in John a reposeful spirit. He was content to be lowly. He knew how to trust. His spirit was gentle. He was of a deeply spiritual nature. Yet we must not think of him as weak or effeminate. Perhaps painters have helped to give this impression of him; but it is one that is not only untrue, but dishonoring. John was a man of noble strength. In his soul, under his quietness and sweetness of spirit, dwelt a mighty energy. But he was a man of love, and had learned the lesson of divine peace; thus he was a self-controlled man. These are hints of the character of the disciple whom Jesus loved, whom he chose to be his closest friend. He was only a lad when Jesus first met him, and we must remember that the John we chiefly know was the man as he developed under the influence of Jesus. What Jesus saw in the youth who sat down beside him in his lodging-place that day, drank in his words, and opened his soul to him as a rose to the morning sun, was a nature rich in its possibilities of noble and beautiful character. The John we know is the man as he ripened in the summer of Christ's love. He is a product of pure Christ-culture. His young soul responded to every inspiration in his Master, and developed into rarer loveliness every day. Doubtless one of the qualities in John that fitted him to be the closest friend of Jesus was his openness of heart, which made him such an apt learner, so ready to respond to every touch of Christ's hand. It would be interesting to trace the story of this holy friendship through the three years Jesus and John were together, but only a little of the wonderful narrative is written. Some months after the first meeting, there was another beside the sea. For some reason John and his companions had taken up their fishing again. Jesus came by in the early morning, and found the men greatly discouraged because they had been out all night and had caught nothing. He told them to push out, and to cast their net again, telling them where to cast it. The result was a great draught of fishes. It was a revealing of divine power which mightily impressed the fishermen. He then bade them to follow him, and said he would make them become fishers of men. Immediately they left the ship, and went with Jesus. Thus John had now committed himself altogether to his new Master. From this time he remained with Jesus, following him wherever he went. He was in his school, and was an apt scholar. A little later there came another call. Jesus chose twelve men to be apostles, and among them was the beloved disciple. This choice and call brought him into yet closer fellowship with Jesus. Now the transformation of character would go on more rapidly because of the constancy and the closeness of John's association with his Master. A peculiar designation is given to the brothers James and John. Jesus surnamed them Boanerges, the sons of thunder. There must have been a meaning in such a name given by Jesus himself. Perhaps the figure of thunder suggests capacity for energy--that the soul of John was charged, as it were, with fiery zeal. It appears to us, as we read John's writings, that this could not have been true. He seems such a man of love that we cannot think of him as ever being possessed of an opposite feeling. But there is evidence that by nature he was full of just such energy held in reserve. We see John chiefly in his writings; and these were the fruit of his mellow old age, when love's lessons had been well learned. It seems likely that in his youth he had in his breast a naturally quick, fiery temper. But under the culture of Jesus this spirit was brought into complete mastery. We have one illustration of this earlier natural feeling in a familiar incident. The people of a certain village refused to receive the Master, and John and his brother wished to call down fire from heaven to consume them. But Jesus reminded them that he was not in the world to destroy men's lives, but to save them. We know not how often this lesson had to be taught to John before he became the apostle of love. It was well on in St. Paul's old age that he said he had learned in whatsoever state he was therein to be content. It is a comfort to us to know that he was not always able to say this, and that the lesson had to be learned by him just as it has to be learned by us. It is a comfort to us also to be permitted to believe that John had to _learn_ to be the loving, gentle disciple he became in later life, and that the lesson was not an easy one. It is instructive also to remember that it was through his friendship with Jesus that John received his sweetness and lovingness of character. An old Persian apologue tells that one found a piece of fragrant clay in his garden, and that when asked how it got its perfume the clay replied, "One laid me on a rose." John lived near the heart of Jesus, and the love of that heart of gentleness entered his soul and transformed him. There is no other secret for any who would learn love's great lesson. Abiding in Christ, Christ abides also in us, and we are made like him because he lives in us. John's distinction of being one of the Master's closest friends brought him several times into experiences of peculiar sacredness. He witnessed the transfiguration, when for an hour the real glory of the Christ shone out through his investiture of flesh. This was a vision John never forgot. It must have impressed itself deeply upon his soul. He was also one of those who were led into the inner shadows of Gethsemane, to be near Jesus while he suffered, and to comfort him with love. This last experience especially suggests to us something of what the friendship of John was to Jesus. There is no doubt that this friendship brought to John immeasurable comfort and blessing, enriching his life, and transforming his character. But what was the friendship to Jesus? There is no doubt that it was a great deal to him. He craved affection and sympathy, as every noble heart does just in the measure of its humanness. One of the saddest elements of the Gethsemane sorrow was the disappointment of Jesus, when, hungry for love, he went back to his chosen three, expecting to find a little comfort and strength, and found them sleeping. The picture of John at the Last Supper, leaning on Jesus' breast, shows him to us in the posture in which we think of him most. It is the place of confidence; the bosom is only for those who have a right to closest intimacy. It is the place of love, near the heart. It is the place of safety, for he is in the clasp of the everlasting arms, and none can snatch him out of the impregnable shelter. It was the darkest night the world ever saw that John lay on the bosom of Jesus. That is the place of comfort for all sorrowing believers, and there is abundance of room for them all on that breast. John _leaned_ on Jesus' breast,--weakness reposed on strength, helplessness on almighty help. We should learn to lean, to lean our whole weight, on Christ. That is the privilege of Christian faith. There was one occasion when John seems to have broken away from his usual humility. He joined with his brother in a request for the highest places in the new kingdom. This is only one of the evidences of John's humanness,--that he was of like passions with the rest of us. Jesus treated the brothers with gentle pity--"Ye know not what ye ask." Then he explained to them that the highest places must be reached through toil and sorrow, through the paths of service and suffering. Later in life John knew what the Master's words meant. He found his place nearest to Christ, but it was not on the steps of an earthly throne; it was a nearness of love, and the steps to it were humility, self-forgetfulness, and ministry. It must have given immeasurable comfort to Jesus to have John stay so near to him during the last scenes. If he fled for a moment in the garden when all the apostles fled, he soon returned; for he was close to his Master during his trial. Then, when he was on the cross, Jesus saw a group of loving friends near by, watching with breaking hearts; and among these was John. It lifted a heavy burden off the heart of Jesus to be able then to commit his mother to John, and to see him lead her away to his own home. It was a supreme expression of friendship,--choosing John from among all his friends for the sacred duty of sheltering this blessedest of women. The story of this beautiful friendship of Jesus and John shows us what is possible in its own measure to every Christian discipleship. It is not possible for every Christian to be a St. John, but close friendship with Jesus is the privilege of every true believer; and all who enter into such a friendship will be transformed into the likeness of their Friend. CHAPTER VII. JESUS AND PETER. "As the mighty poets take Grief and pain to build their song, Even so for every soul, Whatsoe'er its lot may be,-- Building, as the heavens roll, Something large and strong and free,-- Things that hurt and things that mar Shape the man for perfect praise, Shock and strain and ruin are Friendlier than the smiling days." Our first glimpse of Simon in the New Testament is as he was being introduced to Jesus. It was beside the Jordan. His brother had brought him; and that moment a friendship began which not only was of infinite and eternal importance to Simon himself, but which has left incalculable blessing in the world. Jesus looked at him intently, with deep, penetrating gaze. He saw into his very soul. He read his character; not only what he was then, but the possibilities of his life,--what he would become under the power of grace. He then gave him a new name. "When Jesus beheld him, he said. Thou art Simon: ... thou shalt be called Cephas, which is by interpretation, a stone." In a gallery in Europe there hang, side by side, Rembrandt's first picture, a simple sketch, imperfect and faulty, and his great masterpiece, which all men admire. So in the two names, Simon and Peter, we have, first the rude fisherman who came to Jesus that day, the man as he was before Jesus began his work on him; and second, the man as he became during the years when the friendship of Jesus had warmed his heart and enriched his life; when the teaching of Jesus had given him wisdom and kindled holy aspirations in his soul; and when the experiences of struggle and failure, of penitence and forgiveness, of sorrow and joy, had wrought their transformations in him. "Thou art Simon." That was his name then. "Thou shalt be called Cephas." That was what he should become. It was common in the East to give a new name to denote a change of character, or to indicate a man's position among men. Abram's name was changed to Abraham--"Father of a multitude"--when the promise was sealed to him. Jacob's name, which meant supplanter, one who lived by deceit, was changed to Israel, a prince with God, after that night when the old nature was maimed and defeated while he wrestled with God, and overcame by clinging in faith and trust. So Simon received a new name when he came to Jesus, and began his friendship with him. "Thou shalt be called Cephas." This did not mean that Simon's character was changed instantly into the quality which the new name indicated. It meant that Jesus saw in him the possibilities of firmness, strength, and stability, of which a stone is the emblem. It meant that this should be his character by and by, when the work of grace in him was finished. The new name was a prophecy of the man that was to be, the man that Jesus would make of him. Now he was only Simon--rash, impulsive, self-confident, vain, and therefore weak and unstable. Some of the processes in this making of a man, this transformation of Simon into Cephas, we may note as we read the story. There were three years between the beginning of the friendship of Jesus and Simon and the time when the man was ready for his work. The process was not easy. Simon had many hard lessons to learn. Self-confidence had to be changed into humility. Impetuosity had to be chastened and disciplined into quiet self-control. Presumption had to be awed and softened into reverence. Thoughtfulness had to grow out of heedlessness. Rashness had to be subdued into prudence, and weakness had to be tempered into calm strength. All this moral history was folded up in the words, "Thou shalt be called Cephas--a stone." The meeting by the Jordan was the beginning. A new friendship coming into a life may color all its future, may change its destiny. We never know what may come of any chance meeting. But the beginning of a friendship with Jesus has infinite possibilities of good. The giving of the new name must have put a new thought of life's meaning into Simon's heart. It must have set a new vision in his soul, and kindled new aspirations within his breast. Life must have meant more to him from that hour. He had glimpses of possibilities he had never dreamed of before. It is always so when Jesus truly comes into any one's life. A new conception of character dawns on the soul, a new ideal, a revelation which changes all thoughts of living. The friendship of Jesus is most inspiring. Some months passed, and then came a formal call which drew Simon into close and permanent relations with Jesus. It was on the Sea of Galilee. The men were fishing. There had been a night of unsuccessful toil. In the morning Jesus used Simon's boat for a pulpit, speaking from its deck to the throngs on the shore. He then bade the men push out into deep water and let down their net. Simon said it was not worth while--still he would do the Master's bidding. The result was an immense haul of fishes. The effect of the miracle on Simon's mind was overwhelming. Instantly he felt that he was in the presence of divine revealing, and a sense of his own sinfulness and unworthiness oppressed him. "Depart from me; for I am a sinful man, O Lord," he cried. Jesus quieted his terror with his comforting "Fear not." Then he said to him, "From henceforth thou shalt catch men." This was another self-revealing. Simon's work as a fisherman was ended. He forsook all, and followed Jesus, becoming a disciple in the full sense. His friendship with Jesus was deepening. He gave up everything he had, going with Jesus into poverty, homelessness, and--he knew not what. Living in the personal household of Jesus, Simon saw his Master's life in all its manifold phases, hearing the words he spoke whether in public on in private conversation, and witnessing every revealing of his character, disposition, and spirit. It is impossible to estimate the influence of all this on the life of Simon. He was continually seeing new things in Jesus, hearing new words from his lips, learning new lessons from his life. One cannot live in daily companionship with any good man without being deeply influenced by the association. To live with Jesus in intimate relations of friendship was a holy privilege, and its effect on Simon's character cannot be estimated. An event which must have had a great influence on Simon was his call to be an apostle. Not only was he one of the Twelve, but his name came first--it is always given first. He was the most honored of all, was to be their leader, occupying the first place among them. A true-hearted man is not elated or puffed up by such honoring as this. It humbles him, rather, because the distinction brings with it a sense of responsibility. It awes a good man to become conscious that God is intrusting him with place and duty in the world, and is using him to be a blessing to others. He must walk worthy of his high calling. A new sanctity invests him--the Lord has set him apart for holy service. Another event which had a marked influence on Simon was his recognition of the Messiahship of Jesus. Just how this great truth dawned upon his consciousness we do not know, but there came a time when the conviction was so strong in him that he could not but give expression to it. It was in the neighborhood of Caesarea Philippi. Jesus had led the Twelve apart into a secluded place for prayer. There he asked them two solemn questions. He asked them first what the people were saying about him--who they thought he was. The answer showed that he was not understood by them; there were different opinions about him, none of them correct. Then he asked the Twelve who they thought he was. Simon answered, "The Christ, the Son of the living God." The confession was wonderfully comprehensive. It declared that Jesus was the Messiah, and that he was a divine being--the Son of the living God. It was a great moment in Simon's life when he uttered this wonderful confession. Jesus replied with a beatitude for Simon, and then spoke another prophetic word: "Thou art Peter," using now the new name which was beginning to be fitting, as the new man that was to be was growing out of the old man that was being left behind. "Thou art Peter, and upon this rock I will build my church." It was a further unveiling of Simon's future. It was in effect an unfolding or expansion of what he had said when Simon first stood before him. "Thou shalt be called Cephas." As a confessor of Christ, representing all the apostles, Peter was thus honored by his Lord. But the Messianic lesson was yet only partly learned. Simon believed that Jesus was the Messiah, but his conception of the Messiah was still only an earthly one. So we read that from that time Jesus began to teach the apostles the truth about his mission,--that he must suffer many things, and be killed. Then it was that Simon made his grave mistake in seeking to hold his Master back from the cross. "Be it far from thee, Lord: this shall never be unto thee," he said with great vehemence. Quickly came the stern reply, "Get thee behind me, Satan: thou art a stumbling-block unto me." Simon had to learn a new lesson. He did not get it fully learned until after Jesus had risen again, and the Holy Spirit had come,--that the measure of rank in spiritual life is the measure of self-forgetting service. We get a serious lesson here in love and friendship. It is possible for us to become Satan even to those we love the best. We do this when we try to dissuade them from hard toil, costly service, or perilous missions to which God is calling them. We need to exercise the most diligent care, and to keep firm restraint upon our own affections, lest in our desire to make the way easier for our friends we tempt them to turn from the path which God has chosen for their feet. Thus lesson after lesson did Simon have to learn, each one leading to a deeper humility. "Less of self and more of thee--none of self and all of thee." Thus we reach the last night with its sad fall. The denial of Peter was a terrible disappointment. We would have said it was impossible, as Peter himself said. He was brave as a lion. He loved Jesus deeply and truly. He had received the name of the rock. For three years he had been under the teaching of Jesus, and he had been received into special honor and favor among the apostles. He had been faithfully forewarned of his danger, and we say, "Forewarned is forearmed." Yet in spite of all, this bravest, most favored disciple, this man of rock, fell most ignominiously, at a time, too, when friendship to his Master ought to have made him truest and most loyal. It was the loving gentleness of Jesus that saved him. What intense pain there must have been in the heart of the Master when, after hearing Peter's denial, he turned and looked at Peter! "I think the look of Christ might seem to say,-- 'Thou Peter! art thou then a common stone Which I at last must break my heart upon, For all God's charge to his high angels may Guard my foot better? Did I yesterday Wash thy feet, my beloved, that they should run Quick to deny me 'neath the morning sun? And do thy kisses like the rest betray? The cock crows coldly. Go and manifest A late contrition, but no bootless fear! For when thy final need is dreariest, Thou shalt not be denied, as I am here. My voice, to God and angels, shall attest, "Because I know this man, let him be clear."'" It was after this look of wondrous love that Peter went out and wept bitterly. At last he remembered. It seemed too late, but it was not too late. The heart of Jesus was not closed against him, and he rose from his fall a new man. What place had the denial in the story of the training of Peter? It had a very important place. Up to that last night, there was still a grave blemish in Simon's character. His self-confidence was an element of weakness. Perhaps there was no other way in which this fault could be cured but by allowing him to fall. We know at least that, in the bitter experience of denial, with its solemn repenting, Peter lost his weakness. He came from his penitence a new man. At last he was disinthralled. He had learned the lesson of humility. It was never again possible for him to deny his Lord. A little later, after a heart-searching question thrice repeated, he was restored and recommissioned--"Feed my lambs; feed my sheep." So the work was completed; the vision of the new man had been realized. Simon had become Cephas. It had been a long and costly process, but neither too long nor too costly. While the marble was wasting, the image was growing. You say it was a great price that Simon had to pay to be fashioned into Peter. You ask whether it was worth while, whether it would not have been quite as well for him if he had remained the plain, obscure fisherman he was when Jesus first found him. Then he would have been only a fisherman, and after living among his neighbors for his allotted years, he would have had a quiet funeral one day, and would have been laid to rest beside the sea. As it was, he had a life of poverty and toil and hard service. It took a great deal of severe discipline to make out of him the strong, firm man of rock that Jesus set out to produce in him. But who will say to-day that it was not worth while? The splendid Christian manhood of Peter has been now for nineteen centuries before the eyes of the world as a type of character which Christian men should emulate--a vision of life whose influence has touched millions with its inspiration. The price which had to be paid to attain this nobleness of character and this vastness of holy influence was not too great. But how about ourselves? It may be quite as hard for some of us to be made into the image of beauty and strength which the Master has set for us. It may require that we shall pass through experiences of loss, trial, temptation, and sorrow. Life's great lessons are very long, and cannot be learned in a day, nor can they be learned easily. But life, at whatever cost, is worth while. It is worth while for the gold to pass through the fire to be made pure and clean. It is worth while for the gem to endure the hard processes necessary to prepare it for shining in its dazzling splendor. It is worth while for a life to submit to whatever of severe discipline may be required to bring out in it the likeness of the Master, and to fit it for noble doing and serving. Poets are said to learn in suffering what they teach in song. If only one line of noble, inspiring, uplifting song is sung into the world's air, and started on a world-wide mission of blessing, no price paid for the privilege is too much to pay. David had to suffer a great deal to be able to write the Twenty-Third Psalm, but he does not now think that psalm cost him too much. William Canton writes:-- "A man lived fifty years--joy dashed with tears; Loved, toiled; had wife and child, and lost them; died; And left of all his long life's work one little song. That lasted--naught beside. Like the monk Felix's bird, that song was heard; Doubt prayed, Faith soared. Death smiled itself to sleep; That song saved souls. You say the man paid stiffly? Nay. God paid--and thought it cheap." CHAPTER VIII. JESUS AND THOMAS. I have a life in Christ to live, I have a death in Christ to die; And must I wait till science give All doubts a full reply? Nay, rather while the sea of doubt Is raging wildly round about, Questioning of life and death and sin, Let me but creep within Thy fold, O Christ! and at thy feet Take but the lowest seat. PRINCIPAL SHAIRP. There is no record of the beginning of the friendship of Jesus and Thomas. We do not know when Thomas became a disciple, nor what first drew him to Jesus. Did a friend bring him? Did he learn of the new rabbi through the fame of him that went everywhere, and then come to him without solicitation? Did he hear him speak one day, and find himself drawn to him by the power of his gracious words? Or did Jesus seek him out in his home or at his work, and call him to be a follower? We do not know. The manner of his coming is veiled in obscurity. The first mention of his name is in the list of the Twelve. As the apostles were chosen from the much larger company of those who were already disciples, Thomas must have been a follower of Jesus before he was an apostle. He and Jesus had been friends for some time, and there is evidence that the friendship was a very close and tender one. Even in the scant material available for the making up of the story, we find evidence in Thomas of strong loyalty and unwavering devotion, and in Jesus of marvellous patience and gentleness toward his disciple. We have in the New Testament many wonderfully lifelike portraits. Occurring again and again, they are always easily recognizable. In every mention of Peter, for example, the man is indubitably the same. He is always active, speaking or acting; not always wisely, but in every case characteristically,--impetuous, self-confident, rash, yet ever warm-hearted. We would know him unmistakably in every incident in which he appears, even if his name were not given. John, too, whenever we see him, is always the same,--reverent, quiet, affectionate, trustful, the disciple of love. Andrew appears only a few times, but in each of these cases he is engaged in the same way,--bringing some one to Jesus. Mary of Bethany comes into the story on only three occasions; but always we see her in the same attitude,--at Jesus' feet,--while Martha is ever active in her serving. The character of Thomas also is sketched in a very striking way. There are but three incidents in which this apostle appears; but in all of these the portrait is the same, and is so clear that even Peter's character is scarcely better known than that of Thomas. He always looks at the dark side. We think of him as the doubter; but his doubt is not of the flippant kind which reveals lack of reverence, ofttimes ignorance and lack of earnest thought; it is rather a constitutional tendency to question, and to wait for proof which would satisfy the senses, than a disposition to deny the facts of Christianity. Thomas was ready to believe, glad to believe, when the proof was sufficient to convince him. Then all the while he was ardently a true and devoted friend of Jesus, attached to him, and ready to follow him even to death. The first incident in which Thomas appears is in connection with the death of Lazarus. Jesus had now gone beyond the Jordan with his disciples. The Jews had sought to kill him; and he escaped from their hands, and went away for safety. When news of the sickness of Lazarus came, Jesus waited two days, and then said to his disciples, "Let us go into Judea again." The disciples reminded him of the hatred of the Jews, and of their recent attempts to kill him. They thought that he ought not to venture back again into the danger, even for the sake of carrying comfort to the sorrowing Bethany household. Jesus answered with a little parable about one's security while walking during the day. The meaning of the parable was that he had not yet reached the end of his day, and therefore could safely continue the work which had been given him to do. Every man doing God's will is immortal till the work is done. Jesus then announced to his disciples that Lazarus was dead, and that he was going to waken him. It is at this point that Thomas appears. He said to his fellow-disciples, "Let us also go, that we may die with him." He looked only at the dark side. He took it for granted that if Jesus returned to Judea he would be killed. He forgot for the time the divine power of Jesus, and the divine protection which sheltered him while he was doing the Father's will. He failed to understand the words Jesus had just spoken about his security until the hours of his day were finished. He remembered only the bitterness which the Jews had shown toward Jesus, and their determination to destroy his life. He had no hope that if Jesus returned they would not carry out their wicked purpose. There was no blue in the sky for him. He saw only darkness. Thomas represents a class of good people who are found in every community. They see only the sad side of life. No stars shine through their cypress-trees. In the time of danger they forget that there are divine refuges into which they may flee and be safe. They know the promises, and often quote them to others; but when trouble comes upon them, all these words of God fade out of their minds. In sorrow they fail to receive any true and substantial comfort from the Scriptures. Hope dies in their hearts when the shadows gather about them. They yield to discouragement, and the darkness blots out every star in their sky. Whatever the trouble may be that comes into their life, they see the trouble only, and fail to perceive the bright light in the cloud. This habit of mind adds much to life's hardness. Every burden is heavier because of the sad heart that beats under it. Every pain is keener because of the dispiriting which it brings with it. Every sorrow is made darker by the hopelessness with which it is endured. Every care is magnified, and the sweetness of every pleasure is lessened, by this pessimistic tendency. The beauty of the world loses half its charm in the eyes which see all things in the hue of despondent feeling. Slightest fears become terrors, and smallest trials grow into great misfortunes. Our heart makes our world for us; and if the heart be without hope and cheer, the world is always dark. We find in life just what we have the capacity to find. One who is color-blind sees no loveliness in nature. One who has no music in his soul hears no harmonies anywhere. When fear sits regnant on the throne, life is full of alarms. On the other hand, if the heart be full of hope, every joy is doubled, and half of every trouble vanishes. There are sorrows, but they are comforted. There are bitter cups, but the bitterness is sweetened. There are heavy burdens, but the songful spirit lightens them. There are dangers, but cheerful courage robs them of terror. All the world is brighter when the light of hope shines within. But we have read only half the story of the fear of Thomas. He saw only danger in the Master's return to Judea. "The Jews will kill him; he will go back to certain death," he said. But Thomas would not forsake Jesus, though he was going straight to martyrdom. "Let us also go, that we may die with him." Thus, mingled with his fear, was a noble and heroic love for Jesus. The hopelessness of Thomas as he thought of Jesus going to Bethany makes his devotion and his cleaving to him all the braver and nobler. He was sure it was a walk to death, but he faltered not in his loyalty. This is a noble spirit in Thomas, which we would do well to emulate. It is the true soldier spirit. Its devotion to Christ is absolute, and its following unconditional. It has only one motive,--love; and one rule,--obedience. It is not influenced by any question of consequences; but though it be to certain death, it hesitates not. This is the kind of discipleship which the Master demands. He who loves father or mother more than him is not worthy of him. He who hates not his own life cannot be his disciple. A follower of Jesus must be ready and willing to follow him to his cross. Thomas proved his friendship for his Master by a noble heroism. It is the highest test of courage to go forward unfalteringly in the way of duty when one sees only personal loss and sacrifice as the result. The soldier who trembles, and whose face whitens from constitutional physical fear, and who yet marches steadily into the battle, is braver far than the soldier who without a tremor presses into the engagement. The second time at which Thomas appears is in the upper room, after the Holy Supper had been eaten. Jesus had spoken of the Father's house, and had said that he was going away to prepare a place for his disciples, and that then he would come again to receive them unto himself. Thomas could not understand the Master's meaning, and said, "Lord, we know not whither thou goest; and how can we know the way?" He would not say he believed until he saw for himself. That is all that his question in the upper room meant--he wished the Master to make the great teaching a little plainer. It were well if more Christians insisted on finding the ground of their faith, the reasons why they are Christians. Their faith would then be stronger, and less easily shaken. When trouble comes, or any testing, it would continue firm and unmoved, because it rests on the rock of divine truth. The last incident in the story of Thomas is after the resurrection. The first evening the apostles met in the upper room to talk over the strange things which had occurred that day. For some reason Thomas was not at this meeting. We may infer that his melancholy temperament led him to absent himself. He had loved Jesus deeply, and his sorrow was very great. There had been rumors all day of Christ's resurrection, but Thomas put no confidence in these. Perhaps his despondent disposition made him unsocial, and kept him from meeting with the other apostles, even to weep with them. That evening Jesus entered through the closed doors, and stood in the midst of the disciples, and greeted them as he had done so often before, "Peace be unto you!" They told Thomas afterwards that they had seen the Lord. But he refused to believe them; that is, he doubted the reality of what they thought they had seen. He said that they had been deceived; and he asserted that he must not only see for himself, but must have the opportunity of subjecting the evidence to the severest test. He must see the print of the nails, and must also be permitted to put his finger into the place. It is instructive to think of what this doubting disposition of Thomas cost him. First, it kept him from the meeting of the disciples that evening, when all the others came together. He shut himself up with his gloom and sadness. His grief was hopeless, and he would not seek comfort. The consequence was, that when Jesus entered the room, and showed himself to his friends, Thomas missed the revealing which gave them such unspeakable gladness. From that hour their sorrow was changed to joy; but for the whole of another week Thomas remained in the darkness in which the crucifixion had infolded him. Doubt is always costly. It shuts out heavenly comfort. There are many Christian people who, especially in the first shock of sorrow, have an experience similar to that of Thomas. They shut themselves up with their grief, and refuse to accept the comfort of the gospel of Christ. They turn away their ears from the voices of love which speak to them out of the Bible, and will not receive the divine consolations. The light shines all about them; but they close doors and windows, and keep it from entering the darkened chamber where they sit. The music of peace floats on the air in sweet, entrancing strains, but no gentle note finds its way to their hearts. Too many Christian mourners fail to find comfort in their sorrow. They believe the great truths of Christianity, that Jesus died for them and rose again; but their faith fails them for the time in the hour of sorest distress. Meanwhile they walk in darkness as Thomas did. On the other hand, those who accept, and let into their hearts the great truths of Christ's resurrection and the immortal life in Christ, feel the pain of parting no less sorely, but they find abundant consolation in the hope of eternal life for those whom they have lost for a time. We have an illustration of the deep, tender, patient, and wise friendship of Jesus for Thomas in the way he treated this doubt of his apostle. He did not say that if Thomas could not believe the witness of the apostles to his resurrection he must remain in the darkness which his unbelief had made for him. He treated his doubt with exceeding gentleness, as a skilful physician would deal with a dangerous wound. He was in no haste. A full week passed before he did anything. During those days the sad heart had time to react, to recover something of its self-poise. Thomas still persisted in his refusal to believe, but when a week had gone he found his way with the others to their meeting. Perhaps their belief in the Lord's resurrection made such a change in them, so brightened and transformed them, that Thomas grew less positive in his unbelief as he saw them day after day. At least he was ready now to be convinced. He wanted to believe. That night Jesus came again into the room, the doors being shut, and standing in the midst of his friends, breathed again upon them his benediction of peace. Then he turned to Thomas; and holding out his hands, with the print of the nails in them, he asked him to put the evidences of his resurrection to the very tests he had said he must make before he could believe. Now Thomas was convinced. He did not make the tests he had insisted that he must make. There was no need for it. To look into the face of Jesus, to hear his voice, and to see the prints of the nails in his hands, was evidence enough even for Thomas. All his doubts were swept away. Falling at the Master's feet, he exclaimed, "My Lord and my God!" Thus the gentleness of Jesus in dealing with his doubts saved Thomas from being an unbeliever. It is a great thing to have a wise and faithful friend when one is passing through an experience of doubt. Many persons are only confirmed in their scepticism by the well-meant but unwise efforts that are made to convince them of the truth concerning which they doubt. It is not argument that they need, but the patience of love, which waits in silence till the right time comes for words, and which then speaks but little. Thomas was convinced, not by words, but by seeing the proofs of Christ's love in the prints of the nails. We may be glad now that Thomas was hard to convince of the truth of Christ's resurrection. It makes the proofs more indubitable to us that one even of the apostles refused at first to believe, and yet at length was led into triumphant faith. If all the apostles had believed easily, there would have been no comfort in the gospel for those who find it hard to believe, and yet who sincerely want to believe. The fact that one doubted, and even refused to accept the witness of his fellow-apostles, and then at length was led into clear, strong faith, forever teaches that doubt is not hopeless. Ofttimes it may be but a process in the development of faith. The story of Thomas shows, too, that there may be honest doubt. While he doubted, he yet loved; perhaps no other one of the apostles loved Jesus more than did Thomas. He never made any such bold confession as Peter did, but neither did he ever deny Christ. Thomas has been a comfort to many because he has shown them that they can be true Christians, true lovers of Christ, and yet not be able to boast of their assurance of faith. No doubt faith is better than questioning, but there may be honest questioning which yet is intensely loyal to Christ. Questioning, too, which is eager to find the truth and rest on the rock, may be better than easy believing, that takes no pains to know the reason of the hope it cherishes, and lightly recites the noble articles of a creed it has never seriously studied. Tennyson, in "In Memoriam," tells the story of a faith that grew strong through its doubting. You say, but with no touch of scorn, Sweet-hearted, you, whose light-blue eyes Are tender over drowning flies, You tell me, doubt is devil-born. I know not: one indeed I knew In many a subtle question versed, Who touched a jarring lyre at first, But ever strove to make it true: Perplext in faith, but pure in deeds, At last he beat his music out. There lives more faith in honest doubt, Believe me, than in half the creeds. He fought his doubts and gathered strength; He would not make his judgment blind, He faced the spectres of the mind And laid them: thus he came at length To find a stronger faith his own; And power was with him in the night, Which makes the darkness and the light, And dwells not in the light alone, But in the darkness and the cloud, As over Sinai's peaks of old, While Israel made their gods of gold, Although the trumpet blew so loud. That which saved Thomas was his deep, strong friendship for Christ. "The characteristic of Thomas," says Ian Maclaren, "is not that he doubted,--that were an easy passport to religion,--but that he doubted and loved. His doubt was the measure of his love; his doubt was swallowed up in love." If friendship for Christ be loyal and true, we need not look upon questioning as disloyalty; it may be but love finding the way up the rugged mountain-side to the sunlit summit of a glorious faith. There is a scepticism whose face is toward wintriness and death; but there is a doubt which is looking toward the sun and toward all blessedness. Thomas teaches us that one may look on the dark side and yet be a Christian, an ardent lover of Jesus, ready to die for him. But we must admit that this is not the best way to live. No one would say that Thomas was the ideal among the apostles, that his character was the most beautiful, his life the noblest and the best. Faith is better than doubt, and confidence better than questioning. It is better to be a sunny Christian, rejoicing, songful, happy, than a sad, gloomy, despondent Christian. It makes one's own life sweeter and more beautiful. Then it makes others happier. A gloomy Christian casts dark shadows wherever he goes; a sunny Christian is a benediction to every life he touches. CHAPTER IX. JESUS' UNREQUITED FRIENDSHIPS. "Friend, my feet bleed. Open thy door to me and comfort me." I will not open; trouble me no more. Go on thy way footsore; I will not rise and open unto thee. "Then it is nothing to thee? Open, see Who stands to plead with thee. Open, lest I should pass thee by, and thou One day entreat my face And howl for grace, And I be deaf as thou art now. Open to me." CHRISTINA G. ROSSETTI. There is a great deal of unrequited love in this world. There are hearts that love with all the strength of purest and holiest affection, whose love seems to meet no requital. There is much unrequited mother-love and father-love. Parents live for their children. In helpless infancy they begin to pour out their affection on them. They toil for them, suffer for them, deny themselves to provide comforts for them, bear their burdens, watch beside them when they are sick, pray for them, and teach them. Parent-love is likest God's love of all earthly affections. It is one of the things in humanity which at its best seems to have come from the Fall almost unimpaired. Much parent-love is worthily honored and fittingly requited. Few things in this world are more beautiful than the devotion of children to parents which one sees in some homes. But not always is there such return. Too often is this almost divine love unrequited. Much philanthropic love also is unrequited. There are men who spend all their life in doing good, and then meet no return. Men have served their country with loyalty and disinterestedness, and have received no reward--perhaps have been left to suffering, and have died in poverty, neglected and forgotten; too often have lain in prison, or been put to death, or exiled by the country which was indebted to their patriotism and loyal service for much of its glory and greatness. Many hearts break because of men's ingratitude. Jesus was the world's greatest benefactor. No other man ever loved the race, or could have loved it, as he did. He was the divine messenger who came to save the world. His whole life was a revealing of love. It was the love of God too,--a love of infinite depth and strength and tenderness, and not any merely human love, however rich and faithful it might be, that was manifested in Jesus Christ. Yet much of his wonderful love was unrequited. "He was in the world, and the world was made by him, and the world knew him not. He came unto his own, and his own received him not." A few individuals recognized him and accepted his love; but the great masses of the people paid him no heed, saw no beauty in him, rejected the blessings he bore and proffered to all, and let his love waste itself in unavailing yearnings and beseechings. Then one cruel day they nailed him on a cross, thinking to quench the affection of his mighty heart. There are many illustrations of the unrequiting of the holy friendship of Jesus. The treatment he received at Nazareth was one instance. He had been brought up among the people. They had seen his beautiful life during the thirty years he had lived in the village. They had known him as a child when he played in their streets. They had known him as a youth and young man in his noble strength. They had known him as a carpenter when day after day he wrought among them in humble toil. It is interesting to think of the sinless life of Jesus all these years. There was no halo about his head but the shining of manly character. There were no miracles wrought by his hands but the miracles of duty, faithful service, and gentle kindness. Yet we cannot doubt that his life in Nazareth was one of rare grace and beauty, marked by perfect unselfishness and great helpfulness. By and by he went away from Nazareth to begin his public ministry as the Messiah. From that time the people saw him no more. The carpenter shop was closed, and the tools lay unused on the bench. The familiar form appeared no more on the streets. A year or more passed, and one day he came back to visit his old neighbors. He stayed a little while, and on the Sabbath was at the village church as had been his wont when his home was at Nazareth. When the opportunity was given him, he unrolled the Book of Isaiah, and read the passage which tells of the anointing of the Messiah, and gives the wonderful outline of his ministry. When he had finished the reading, he told the people that this prophecy was now fulfilled in their ears. That is, he said that he was the Messiah whose anointing and work the prophet had foretold. For a time the people listened spellbound to his gracious words, and then they began to grow angry, that he whom they knew as the carpenter of their village should make such an astounding claim. They rose up in wrath, thrust him out of the synagogue, and would have hurled him over the precipice had he not eluded them and gone on his way. He had come to them in love, bearing rich blessings; but they drove him away with the blessings. He had come to heal their sick, to cure their blind and lame, to cleanse their lepers, to comfort their sorrowing ones; but he had to go away and leave these works of mercy unwrought, while the sufferers continued to bear their burdens. His friendship for his old neighbors was unrequited. Another instance of unrequited friendship in the life of Jesus was in the case of the rich young man who came to him. He had many excellent traits of character, and was also an earnest seeker after the truth. We are distinctly told that Jesus loved him. Thus he belongs with Martha and Mary and Lazarus, of whom the same was said. But here, again, the love was unrequited. The young man was deeply interested in Jesus, and wanted to go with him; but he could not pay the price, and turned and went away. It is interesting to think what might have been the result if he had chosen Christ and gone with him. He might have occupied an important place in the early church, and his name might have lived through all future generations. But he loved his money too much to give it up for Christ, and rejected the way of the cross marked out for him. He refused the friendship of Jesus, and thus threw away all that was best in life. In shutting love out of his heart, he shut himself out from love. Of all the examples of unrequited friendship in the story of Jesus, that of Judas is the saddest. We do not know the beginning of the story of his discipleship, when Judas first came to Jesus, or who brought him. But he must have been a follower some time before he was chosen to be an apostle. Jesus thought over the names of those who had left all to be with him. Then after a night of prayer he chose twelve of these to be his special messengers and witnesses. He loved them all, and took them into very close relations. Think what a privilege it was for these men to live with Jesus. They heard all his words. They saw every phase of his life. Some friends it is better not to know too intimately. They are not as good in private as they are in public. Their life does not bear too close inspection. We discover in them dispositions, habits, ways, tempers, feelings, motives, which dim the lustre we see in them at greater distance. Intimacy weakens the friendship. But, on the other hand, there are those who, the more we see of their private life, the more we love them. Close association reveals loveliness of character, fineness of spirit, richness of heart, sweetness of disposition--habits, feelings, tempers, noble self-denials, which add to the attractiveness of the life and the charm of our friend's personality. We may be sure that intimacy with Jesus only made him appear all the more winning and beautiful to his friends. Judas lived in the warmth of this wondrous love, under the influence of this gracious personality, month after month. He witnessed the pure and holy life of Jesus in all its manifold phases, heard his words, and saw his works. Doubtless, too, in his individual relation with the Master, he received many marks of affection and personal friendship. A careful reading of the Gospels shows that Judas was frequently warned of the very sin which in the end wrought his ruin. Continually Jesus spoke of the danger of covetousness. In the Sermon on the Mount he exhorted his disciples to lay up their treasure, not upon earth, but in heaven, and said that no one could serve God and mammon. It was just this that Judas was trying to do. In more than one parable the danger of riches was emphasized. Can we doubt that in all these reiterations and warnings on the one subject, Judas was in the Master's mind? He was trying in the faithfulness of loyal friendship to save him from the sin which was imperilling his very life. But Judas resisted all the mighty love of Christ. It made no impression upon him; he was unaffected by it. In his heart there grew on meanwhile, unchecked, unhindered, his terrible greed for money. First it made him a thief. The money given to Jesus by his friends to provide for his wants, or to use for the poor, Judas, who was the treasurer, began at length to purloin for himself. This was the first step. The next was the selling of his Master for thirty pieces of silver. This was a more fearful fruit of his nourished greed than the purloining was. It is bad enough to steal. It is a base form of stealing which robs a church treasury as Judas did. But to take money as the price of betraying a friend--could any sin be baser? Could any crime be blacker than that? To take money as the price of betraying a friend in whose confidence one has lived for years, at whose table one has eaten day after day, in the blessing of whose friendship one has rested for months and years--are there words black enough to paint the infamy of such a deed? All the participators in the crime of that Good Friday wear a peculiar brand of infamy as they are portrayed on the pages of history; but among them all, the most despicable, the one whose name bears the deepest infamy, is Judas, an apostle turned traitor, for a few miserable coins betraying his best friend into the hands of malignant foes. This is the outcome of the friendship of Jesus for Judas; this was the fruit of those years of affection, cherishing, patient teaching. Think what Judas might have been. He was chosen and called to be an apostle. There was no reason in the heart of Jesus why Judas might not have been true and worthy. Sin is not God's plan for any life. Treachery and infamy were not in God's purpose for Judas. Jesus would not have chosen him for one of the Twelve if it had not been possible for him to be a good and true man. Judas fell because he had never altogether surrendered himself to Christ. He tried to serve God and mammon; but both could not stay in his heart, and instead of driving out mammon, mammon drove out Christ. This suggests to us what a battlefield the human heart sometimes is--a Waterloo where destinies are settled. God or mammon--which? That is the question every soul must answer. How goes the battle in your soul? Who is winning on your field--Christ or money? Christ or pleasure? Christ or sin? Christ or self? Judas lost the battle; the Devil won. A picture in Brussels represents Judas wandering about the night after the betrayal. By chance he comes upon the workmen who have been preparing the cross for Jesus. A fire burning close by throws its weird light on the faces of the men who are now sleeping. The face of Judas is somewhat in the shade; but one sees on it remorse and agony, as the traitor's eyes fall upon the cross and the tools which have been used in making it,--the cross to which his treason had doomed his friend. But though suffering in the torments of a guilty conscience, he still tightly clutches his money-bag as he hurries on into the night. The picture tells the story of the fruit of Judas's sin,--the money-bag, with eighteen dollars and sixty cents in it, and even that soon to be cast away in the madness of despair. Unrequited friendship! Yes; and in shutting out that blessed friendship, Judas shut out hope. Longfellow puts into his mouth the despairing words:-- "Lost, lost, forever lost! I have betrayed The innocent blood ... * * * Too late! too late! I shall not see him more Among the living. That sweet, patient face Will nevermore rebuke me, nor those lips Repeat the words, 'One of you shall betray me.'" The great lesson from all this is the peril of rejecting the friendship of Jesus Christ. In his friendship is the only way to salvation, the only way of obtaining eternal life. He calls men to come to him, to follow him, to be his friends; and thus alone can they come unto God, and be received into his family. There is something appalling in the revealing which this truth teaches,--the power each soul possesses of shutting out all the love of God, of resisting the infinite blessing of the friendship of Christ. It is possible for us to be near to Christ through all our life, with his grace flowing about us like an ocean, and yet to have a heart that remains unblessed by divine love. We may make God's love in vain, wasted, as sunshine is wasted that falls upon desert sands, so far as we are concerned. The love that we do not requite with love, that does not get into our heart to warm, soften, and enrich it, and to mellow and bless our life, is love poured out in vain. It is made in vain by our unbelief. We may make even the dying of Jesus for us in vain,--a waste of precious life, so far as we are concerned. It is in vain for us that Jesus died if we do not let his love into our heart. Ofttimes the unrequiting of human love makes the heart bitter. When holy friendship has been despised, rejected, and cast away, when one has loved, suffered, and sacrificed in vain, receiving only ingratitude and wrong in return for love's most sacred gifts freely lavished, the danger is that the heart may lose its sweetness, and grow cold, hard, and misanthropic. But not thus was the heart of Jesus affected by the unrequiting of his love and friendship. One Judas in the life of most men would have ended the whole career of generous kindness, drying up the fountains of affection, thus robbing those who would come after of the wealth of tenderness which ought to have been theirs. But through all the unrequiting and resisting of its love, the heart of Jesus still remained gentle as a mother's, rich in its power to love, and sweet in its spirit. This is one of the great problems of true living,--how to keep the heart warm, gentle, compassionate, kind, full of affection's best and truest helpfulness, even amid life's hardest experiences. We cannot live and not at some time suffer wrong. We will meet injustice, however justly we ourselves may live. We will find a return of ingratitude many a time when we have done our best for others. Favors rendered are too easily forgotten by many people. There are few of us who do not remember helping others in time of great need and distress, only to lose their friendship in the end, perhaps, as a consequence of our serving them in their need. Sometimes the only return for costly kindness is cruel unkindness. It is easy to allow such unrequiting, such ill treatment of love, to embitter the fountain of the heart's affection; but this would be to miss the true end of living, which is to get good and not evil to ourselves from every experience through which we pass. No ingratitude, injustice, or unworthiness in those to whom we try to do good, should ever be allowed to turn love's sweetness into bitterness in us. Like fresh-water springs beside the sea, over which the brackish tide flows, but which when the bitter waters have receded are found sweet as ever, so should our hearts remain amid all experiences of love's unrequiting, ever sweet, thoughtful, unselfish, and generous. CHAPTER X. JESUS AND THE BETHANY SISTERS. Her eyes are homes of silent prayer, Nor other thought her mind admits But, he was dead, and there he sits, And he that brought him back is there. Then one deep love doth supersede All other, when her ardent gaze Roves from the living brother's face, And rests upon the Life indeed. TENNYSON. The story of Jesus and the Bethany home is intensely interesting. Every thoughtful Christian has a feeling of gratitude in his heart when he remembers how much that home added to the comfort of the Master by means of the hospitality, the shelter, and the love it gave to him. One of the legends of Brittany tells us that on the day of Christ's crucifixion, as he was on his way to his cross, a bird, pitying the weary sufferer bearing his heavy burden, flew down, and plucked away one of the thorns that pierced his brow. As it did so, the blood spurted out after the thorn, and splashed the breast of the bird. Ever since that day the bird has had a splash of red on its bosom, whence it is called robin-redbreast. Certainly the love of the Bethany home drew from the breast of Jesus many a thorn, and blessed his heart with many a joy. We have three glimpses within the doors of this home when the loved guest was there. The first shows us the Master and his disciples one day entering the village. It was Martha who received him. Martha was the mistress of the house. "She had a sister called Mary," a younger sister. Then we have a picture as if some one had photographed the scene. We see Mary drawing up a low stool, and sitting down at the Master's feet to listen to his words. We see Martha hurrying about the house, busy preparing a meal for the visitors who had come in suddenly. This was a proper thing to do; it was needful that hospitality be shown. There is a word in the record, however, which tells us that Martha was not altogether serene as she went about her work. "Martha was cumbered about much serving." A marginal reading gives, "was distracted." Perhaps there are many modern Christian housekeepers who would be somewhat cumbered, or distracted too, if thirteen hungry men dropped in suddenly some day, and they had to entertain them, preparing them a meal. Still, the lesson unmistakably is that Martha should not have been fretted; that she should have kept sweet amid all the pressure of work that so burdened her. It was not quite right for her to show her impatience with Mary as she did. Coming into the room, flushed and excited, and seeing Mary sitting quietly and unconcernedly at the Rabbi's feet, drinking in his words, she appealed to Jesus, "Lord, dost thou not care that my sister did leave me to serve alone? bid her therefore that she help me." I am not sure that Martha was wrong or unreasonable in thinking that Mary should have helped her. Jesus did not say she was wrong; he only reminded Martha that she ought not to let things fret and vex her. "Martha, Martha, thou art anxious and troubled about many things." It was not her serving that he reproved, but the fret that she allowed to creep into her heart. The lesson is, that however heavy our burdens may be, however hurried or pressed we may be, we should always keep the peace of Christ in our heart. This is one of the problems of Christian living,--not to live without cares, which is impossible, but to keep quiet and sweet in the midst of the most cumbering care. At the second mention of the Bethany home there is sore distress in it. A beloved one is very sick, sick unto death. Few homes are entire strangers to the experience of those days when the sufferer lay in the burning fever. Love ministered and prayed and waited. Jesus was far away, but word was sent to him. He came at length, but seemed to have come too late. "If thou hadst been here!" the sisters said, each separately, when they met the Master. But we see now the finished providence, not the mere fragment of it which the sisters saw; and we know he came at the right time. He comforted the mourners, and then he blotted out the sorrow, bringing back joy to the home.[1] The third picture of this home shows us a festal scene. A dinner was given in honor of Jesus. It was only a few days before his death. Here, again, the sisters appear, each true to her own character. Martha is serving, as she always is; and again Mary is at Jesus' feet. This time she is showing her wonderful love for the friend who has done so much for her. The ointment she pours upon him is an emblem of her heart's pure affection. Mary's act was very beautiful. Love was the motive. Without love no service, however great or costly, is of any value in heaven's sight. The world may applaud, but angels turn away with indifference when love is lacking. "If I bestow all my goods to feed the poor ... but have not love, it profiteth me nothing." But love makes the smallest deed radiant as angel ministry. We need not try doing things for Christ until we love him. It would be like putting rootless rods in a garden-bed, expecting them to grow into blossoming plants. Love must be the root. It was easy for Mary to bring her alabaster box, for her heart was full of overmastering love. Service is the fruit of love. It is not all of its fruit. Character is part too. If we love Christ, we will have Christ's beauty in our soul. Mary grew wondrously gentle and lovely as Christ's words entered her heart. Friendship with Christ makes us like Christ. But there will be service too. Love is like light, it cannot be hid. It cannot be shut up in the heart. It will not be imprisoned and restrained. It will live and speak and act. Love in the heart of Jesus brought him from heaven down to earth to be the lost world's Redeemer. Love in his apostles took them to the ends of the earth to tell the gospel story to the perishing. It is not enough to try to hew and fashion a character into the beauty of holiness, until every feature of the image of Christ shines in the life, as the sculptor shapes the marble into the form of his vision. The most radiant spiritual beauty does not make one a complete Christian. It takes service to fill up the measure of the stature of Christ. The young man said he had kept all the commandments from his youth. "One thing thou lackest," said the Master; "sell all that thou hast, and give to the poor." Service of love was needed to make that morally exemplary life complete. The lesson is needed by many Christian people. They are good, with blameless life, flawless character, consistent conduct; but they lack one thing,--service. Love for Christ should always serve. There is a story of a friar who was eager to win the favor of God, and set to work to illuminate the pages of the Apocalypse, after the custom of his time. He became so absorbed in his delightful occupation that he neglected the poor and the sick who were suffering and dying in the plague. He came at last, in the course of his work, to the painting of the face of his Lord in the glory of his second coming; but his hand had lost its skill. He wondered why it was, and realized that it was because, in his eagerness to paint his pictures, he had neglected his duty of serving. Rebuffed and humiliated by the discovery, the friar drew his cowl over his head, laid aside his brushes, and went down among the sick and dying to minister to their needs. He wrought on, untiringly, until he himself was smitten with the fatal plague. Then he tottered back to his cell and to his easel, to finish his loved work before he died. He knelt in prayer to ask help, when, lo! he saw that an angel's hand had completed the picture of the glorified Lord, and in a manner far surpassing human skill. It is only a legend, but its lesson is well worthy our serious thought. Too many people in their life as Christians, while they strive to excel in character, in conduct, and in the beautiful graces of disposition, and to do their work among men faithfully, are forgetting meanwhile the law of love which bids every follower of Christ go about doing good as the Master did. To be a Christian is far more than to be honest, truthful, sober, industrious, and decorous; it is also to be a cross-bearer after Jesus; to love men, and to serve them. Ofttimes it is to leave your fine room, your favorite work, your delightful companionship, your pet self-indulgence, and to go out among the needy, the suffering, the sinning, to try to do them good. The monk could not paint the face of the Lord while he was neglecting those who needed his ministrations and went unhelped because he came not. Nor can any Christian paint the face of the Master in its full beauty on his soul while he is neglecting any service of love. We may follow a little the story of what happened after Mary brought her alabaster box. Some of the disciples of Jesus were angry. There always are some who find fault with the way other people show their love for Christ. It is so even in Christian churches. One member criticises what another does, or the way he does it. It will be remembered that it was Judas who began this blaming of Mary. He said the ointment would better have been sold, and the proceeds given to the poor. St. John tells us very sadly the real motive of this pious complaining; not that Judas cared for the poor, but that he was a thief, and purloined the money given for the poor. Jesus came to Mary's defence very promptly, and in a way that must have wonderfully comforted her hurt heart. It is a grievous sin against another to find fault with any sweet, beautiful serving of Jesus which the other may have done. Christ's defence and approval of Mary should be a comfort to all who find their deeds of love criticised or blamed by others. "Let her alone; why trouble ye her? she hath wrought a good work on me." The disciples had said it was a waste. That is what some persons say about much that is done for Christ. The life is wasted, they say, which is poured out in self-denials and sacrifices to bless others. But really the wasted lives are those which are devoted to pleasure and sin. Those who live a merely worldly life are wasting what it took the dying of Jesus to redeem. Oh, how pitiful much of fashionable, worldly life must appear to the angels! "She hath done what she could." That was high praise. She had brought her best to her Lord. Perhaps some of us make too much of our little acts and trivial sacrifices. Little things are acceptable if they are really our best. But Mary's deed was not a small one. The ointment she brought was very costly. She did not use just a little of this precious nard, but poured it all out on the head and feet of Jesus. "What she could" was the best she had to give. We may take a lesson. Do we always give our best to Christ? He gave his best for us, and is ever giving his best to us. Do we not too often give him only what is left after we have served ourselves? Then we try to soothe an uneasy conscience by quoting the Master's commendation of Mary, "She hath done what she could." Ah, Mary's "what she could" was a most costly service. It was the costliest of all her possessions that she gave. The word of Jesus about her and her gift has no possible comfort for us if our little is not our best. The widow's mites were her best, small though the money value was--she gave all she had. The poor woman's cup of cold water was all she could give. But if we give only a trifle out of our abundance, we are not doing what we could. It is worthy of notice that the alabaster box itself was broken in this holy service. Nothing was kept back. Broken things have an important place in the Bible. Gideon's pitchers were broken as his men revealed themselves to the enemy. Paul and his companions escaped from the sea on broken pieces of the ship. It is the broken heart that God accepts. The body of Jesus was broken that it might become bread of life for the world. Out of sorrow's broken things God builds up radiant beauty. Broken earthly hopes become ofttimes the beginnings of richest heavenly blessings. We do not get the best out of anything until it is broken. "They tell me I must bruise The rose's leaf Ere I can keep and use Its fragrance brief. They tell me I must break The skylark's heart Ere her cage song will make The silence start. They tell me love must bleed, And friendship weep, Ere in my deepest need I touch that deep. Must it be always so With precious things? Must they be bruised, and go With beaten wings? Ah, yes! By crushing days, By caging nights, by scar Of thorns and stony ways, These blessings are." Even sorrow is not too great a price to pay for the blessings which can come only through grief and pain. We must not be afraid to be broken if that is God's will; that is the way God would make us vessels meet for his service. Only by breaking the alabaster vase can the ointment that is in it give out its rich perfume. "She hath anointed my body aforehand for the burying." I like the word aforehand. Nicodemus, after Jesus was dead, brought a large quantity of spices and ointments to put about his body when it was laid to rest in the tomb. That was well; it was a beautiful deed. It honored the Master. We never can cease to be grateful to Nicodemus, whose long-time shy love at last found such noble expression, in helping to give fitting burial to him whom we love so deeply. But Mary's deed was better; she brought her perfume aforehand, when it could give pleasure, comfort, and strengthening, to the Master in his time of deepest sorrow. We know that his heart was gladdened by the act of love. It made his spirit a little stronger for the events of that last sad week. "She hath wrought a good work on me." We should get a lesson in friendship's ministry. Too many wait until those they love are dead, and then bring their alabaster boxes of affection and break them. They keep silent about their love when words would mean so much, would give such cheer, encouragement, and hope, and then, when the friend lies in the coffin, their lips are unsealed, and speak out their glowing tribute on ears that heed not the laggard praise. Many persons go through life, struggling bravely with difficulty, temptation, and hardship, carrying burdens too heavy for them, pouring out their love in unselfish serving of others, and yet are scarcely ever cheered by a word of approval or commendation, or by delicate tenderness of friendship; then, when they lie silent in death, a whole circle of admiring friends gathers to do them honor. Every one remembers a personal kindness received, a favor shown, some help given, and speaks of it in grateful words. Letters full of appreciation, commendation, and gratitude are written to sorrowing friends. Flowers are sent and piled about the coffin, enough to have strewn every hard path of the long years of struggle. How surprised some good men and women would be, after lives with scarcely a word of affection to cheer their hearts, were they to awake suddenly in the midst of their friends, a few hours after their death, and hear the testimonies that are falling from every tongue, the appreciations, the grateful words of love, the rememberings of kindness! They had never dreamed in life that they had so many friends, that so many had thought well of them, that they were helpful to so many. After a long and worthy life, given up to lowly ministry, a good clergyman was called home. Soon after his death, there was a meeting of his friends, and many of them spoke of his beautiful life. Incidents were given showing how his labors had been blessed. Out of full hearts one after another gave grateful tribute of love. The minister's widow was present; and when all the kindly words had been spoken, she thanked the friends for what they had said. Then she asked, amid her tears, "But why did you never tell him these things while he was living?" Yes, why not? He had wrought for forty years in a most unselfish way. He had poured out his life without stint. He had carried his people in his heart by day and by night, never sparing himself in any way when he could be of use to one of God's children. His people were devoted to him, loved him, and appreciated his labors. Yet rarely, all those years, had any of them told him of the love that was in their hearts for him, or of their gratitude for service given or good received. He was conscious of the Master's approval, and this cheered him,--it was the commendation he sought; but it would have comforted him many a time, and made the burdens seem lighter and the toil easier and the joy of serving deeper, if his people--those he loved and lived for, and helped in so many ways--had sometimes told him how much he was to them. All about us move, these common days, those who would be strengthened and comforted by the good cheer which we could give. Let us not reserve all the flowers for coffin-lids. Let us not keep our alabaster boxes sealed and unbroken till our loved ones are dead. Let us show kindness when kindness will do good. It will make sorrow all the harder to bear if we have to say beside our dead, "I might have brightened the way a little if only I had been kinder." It was wonderful honoring which Jesus gave to Mary's deed, when he said that wherever the gospel should be preached throughout the whole world the story of this anointing should be told. So, right in among the memorials of his own death, this ministry of love is enshrined. As the odor of the ointment filled all the room where the guests sat at table, so the aroma of Mary's love fills all the Christian world to-day. The influence of her deed, with the Master's honoring of it, has shed a benediction on countless homes, making hearts gentler, and lives sweeter and truer. [1] For a fuller treatment of this incident, see Chapter XI. CHAPTER XI. JESUS COMFORTING HIS FRIENDS. Not all regret, the face will shine Upon me while I muse alone; And that dear voice, I once have known, Still speak to me of me and mine: Yet less of sorrow lives in me For days of happy commune dead; Less yearning for the friendship fled, Than some strong bond which is to be. TENNYSON. A gospel with no comfort for sorrow would not meet the deepest needs of human hearts. If Jesus were a friend only for bright hours, there would be much of experience into which he could not enter. But the gospel breathes comfort on every page; and Jesus is a friend for lonely hours and times of grief and pain, as well as for sunny paths and days of gladness and song. He went to a marriage feast, and wrought his first miracle to prolong the festivity; but he went also to the home of grief, and turned its sorrow into joy. It is well worth our while to study Jesus as a comforter, to learn how he comforted his friends. For one thing, it will teach us how to find consolation when we are in trouble. This is a point at which, with many Christians, the gospel seems oftenest to fail. In the days of the unbroken circle and of human gladness, the friends of Jesus rejoice in his love, and walk in his light with songs; but when ties are broken, and grief enters the home, the hearts that were so full of praise refuse to take the consolation of the gospel. This ought not so to be. If we knew Christ as a comforter, we would sing our songs of trust even in the night. Another help that we may get from such a study of Jesus will be power to become a true comforter of others. This every Christian should seek to be, but this very few Christians really are. Most of us would better stay away altogether from our friends in their times of sorrow, than go to them as we do. Instead of being comforters to make them stronger to endure, we only make their grief seem bitterer, and their loss more unendurable, doing them harm instead of good. This is because we have not learned the art of giving comfort. Our Master should be our teacher; and if we study his method, we shall know how to be a blessing to our friends in their times of loss and pain. Much of the ministry of Jesus was with those who were in trouble. There was one special occasion, however, when there was a great sorrow in the circle of his best friends. We may learn many lessons if we read over thoughtfully the story of the way Jesus comforted them. It was the Bethany home. Before the sorrow came, Jesus was a familiar guest, a close and intimate friend of the members of the household. He always had kindly welcome and generous hospitality when he came to their door. They did not make his acquaintance for the first time when their hearts were broken. They had known him for a long time, and had listened to his gracious words when there was no grief in their home. This made it easy to turn to him and to receive his comfort when the dark days of sorrow came. There are some who think of Christ only as a friend whom they will need in trouble. In their time of unbroken gladness they do not seek his friendship. Then, when trouble comes suddenly, they do not know how or where to find the Comforter. Wiser far are they who take Christ into their life in the glad days when the joy is unbroken. He blesses their joy. A happy home is all the happier because Jesus is a familiar guest in it. Love is all the sweeter because of his benediction. Then, when sorrow's shadow falls, there is light in the darkness. There seems to be no need of the stars in the daytime, for the sunshine then floods all earth's paths. But when the sun goes down, and God's great splendor of stars appears hanging over us, dropping their soft, quiet light upon us, how glad we are that they were there all the while, waiting to be revealed! So it is that the friendship of Jesus in the happy years hangs above our heads the stars of heavenly comfort. We do not seem to need them at the time, and we scarcely know that they are there; we certainly have no true realization of the blessing that hides in the shining words. But when, one sad day, the light of human joy is suddenly darkened, then the divine comforts reveal themselves. We do not have to hasten here and there in pitiable distress, trying to find consolation, for we have it already in the love and grace of Christ. The Friend we took into our life in the joy-days stands close beside us now in our sadness, and his friendship never before seemed so precious, so tender, so divine. When Lazarus fell sick, Jesus was in another part of the country. As the case grew hopeless, the sisters sent a message to Jesus to say, "He whom thou lovest is sick." The message seems remarkable. There was no urgency expressed in it, no wild, passionate pleading that Jesus would hasten to come. Its few words told of the quietness and confidence of trusting hearts. We get a lesson concerning the way we should pray when we are in distress. "Your Father knoweth what things ye have need of," and there is no need for piteous clamor. Far better is the prayer of faith, which lays the burden upon the divine heart, and leaves it there without anxiety. It is enough, when a beloved one is lying low, to say, "Lord, he whom thou lovest is sick." We are surprised, as we read the narrative, that Jesus did not respond immediately to this message from his friends. But he waited two days before he set out for Bethany. We cannot tell why he did this, but there is something very comforting in the words that tell us of the delay. "Now Jesus loved Martha, and her sister, and Lazarus. When, therefore, he heard that Lazarus was sick, he abode at that time two days in the place where he was." In some way the delay was because of his love for all the household. Perhaps the meaning is that through the dying of Lazarus blessing would come to them all. At length he reached Bethany. Lazarus had been dead four days. The family had many friends; and their house was filled with those who had come, after the custom of the times, to console them. Jesus lingered at some distance from the house, perhaps not caring to enter among those who in the conventional way were mourning with the family. He wished to meet the sorrowing sisters in a quiet place alone. So he tarried outside the village, probably sending a message to Martha, telling her that he was coming. Soon Martha met him. We may think of the eagerness of her heart to get into his presence when she heard that he was near. What a relief it must have been to her, after the noisy grief that filled her home, to get into the quiet, peaceful presence of Jesus! He was not disturbed. His face was full of sympathy, and it was easy to see there the tokens of deep and very real grief, but his peace was not broken. He was calm and composed. Martha must have felt herself at once comforted by his mere presence. It was quieting and reassuring. The first thing to do when we need comfort is to get into the presence of Christ. Human friendship means well when it hastens to us in our sorrow. It feels that it must do something for us, that to stay away and do nothing would be unkindness. Then, when it comes, it feels that it must talk, and must talk about our sorrow. It feels that it must go over all the details, questioning us until it seems as if our heart would break with answering. Our friends think that they must explore with us all the depths of our grief, dwelling upon the elements that are specially poignant. The result of all this "comforting" is that our burden of sorrow is made heavier instead of lighter, and we are less brave and strong than before to bear it. If we would be truly comforted we would better flee away to Christ; for in his presence we shall find consolation, which gives peace and strength and joy. It is worth our while to note the comfort which Jesus gave to these sorrowing sisters. First, he lifted the veil, and gave them a glimpse of what lies beyond death. "Thy brother shall rise again." "I am the resurrection, and the life: he that believeth on me, though he die, yet shall he live: and whosoever liveth and believeth on me shall never die." Thus he opened a great window into the other world. It is plainer to us than it could be to Martha and Mary; for a little while after he spoke these words, Jesus himself passed through death, coming again from the grave in immortal life. It is a wonderful comfort to those who sorrow over the departure of a Christian friend to know the true teaching of the New Testament on the subject of dying. Death is not the end; it is a door which leads into fulness of life. Perhaps many in bereavement, though believing the doctrine of a future resurrection, fail to get present comfort from it. Jesus assured Martha that her brother should rise again. "Yes, I know that he shall rise again in the resurrection at the last day." Her words show that this hope was too distant to give her much comfort. Her sense of present loss outweighed every other thought and feeling. She craved back again the companionship she had lost. Who that has stood by the grave of a precious friend has not experienced the same feeling of inadequateness in the consolation that comes from even the strongest belief in a far-off rising again of all who are in their graves? The reply of Jesus to Martha's hungry heart-cry was very rich in its comfort. "I am the resurrection." This is one of the wonderful present tenses of Christian hope. Martha had spoken of a resurrection far away. "I am the resurrection," Jesus declared. It was something present, not remote. His words embrace the whole blessed truth of immortal life. "Whosoever liveth and believeth on me shall never die." There is no death for those who are in Christ. The body dies, but the person lives on. The resurrection may be in the future, but really there is no break in the life of a believer in Christ. He is not here; our eyes see him not, our ears hear not his voice, we cannot touch him with our hands, but he still lives and thinks and feels and loves. No power in his being has been quenched by dying, no beauty dimmed, no faculty destroyed. This is a part of the comfort which Jesus gave to his friends in their bereavement. He assured them that there is no death, that all who believe in him have eternal life. There remains for those who stay here the pain of separation and of loneliness, but for those who have passed over we need have no fear. How does Jesus comfort his friends who are left? As we read over the story of the sorrow of the Bethany home we find the answer to our question. You say, "He brought back their dead, thus comforting them with the literal undoing of the work of death and grief. If only he would do this now, in every case where love cries to him, that would be comfort indeed." But we must remember that the return of Lazarus to his home was only a temporary restoration. He came back to the old life of mortality, of temptation, of sickness and pain and death. He came back only for a season. It was not a resurrection to immortal life; it was only a restoration to mortal life. He must pass again through the mystery of dying, and his sisters must a second time experience the agony of separation and loneliness. We can scarcely call it comfort; it was merely a postponement for a little while of the final separation. But Jesus gave the sisters true consoling besides this. His mere presence brought them comfort. They knew that he loved them. Many times before when he had entered their home he had brought a benediction. They had a feeling of security and peace in his presence. Even their inconsolable grief lost something of its poignancy when the light of his face fell upon them. Every strong, tender, and true human love has a wondrous comforting power. We can pass through a sore trial if a trusted friend is beside us. The believer can endure any sorrow if Jesus is with him. Another element of comfort for these sorrowing sisters was in the sympathy of Jesus. He showed this sympathy with them in coming all the way from Perea, to be with them in their time of distress. He showed it in his bearing toward them and his conversation with them. There is a wonderful gentleness in his manner as he receives first one and then the other sister. Mary's grief was deeper than Martha's; and when Jesus saw her weeping, and her friends who were with her weeping, he groaned in the spirit and was troubled. Then, in the shortest verse in the Bible, we have a window into the very heart of Christ, and find there most wonderful sympathy. "Jesus wept." It is a great comfort in time of sorrow to have even human sympathy, to know that somebody cares, that some one feels with us. The measure of the comfort in such cases is in proportion to the honor in which we hold the person. It would have had something--very much--of comfort for the sisters, if John or Peter or James had wept with them beside their brother's grave. But the tears of Jesus meant incalculably more; they told of the holiest sympathy that this world ever saw--the Son of God wept with two sisters in a great human sorrow. This shortest verse was not written merely as a fragment of a narrative--it contains a revealing of the heart of Jesus for all time. Wherever a friend of Jesus is sorrowing, One stands by, unseen, who shares the grief, whose heart feels every pang of the sorrow. There is immeasurable comfort in this thought that the Son of God suffers with us in our suffering, is afflicted in all our affliction. We can endure our trouble more quietly when we know that God understands all about it. There is yet another thing in the manner of Christ's comforting his friends which is very suggestive. His sympathy was not a mere sentiment. Too often human sympathy is nothing but a sentiment. Our friends cry with us, and then pass by on the other side. They tell us they are sorry for us, but they do nothing to help us. The sympathy of Jesus at Bethany was very practical. Not only did he show his love to his friends by coming away from his work in another province, to be with them in their sore trouble; not only did he speak to them words of divine comfort, words which have made a shining track through the world ever since; not only did he weep with them in their grief,--but he wrought the greatest of all his many miracles to restore the joy of their hearts and their home. It was a costly miracle, too, for it led to his own death. Yet, knowing well what would come from this ministry of friendship, he hesitated not. For some reason he saw that it would be indeed a blessing to his friends to bring back the dead. It was because he loved the sisters and the brother that he lingered, and did not hasten when the message reached him beyond the river. We may be sure, therefore, that the raising of Lazarus, though only to a little more of the old life of weakness, had a blessing in it for the family. This was the best way in which Jesus could show his sympathy, the best comfort he could give his friends. No doubt thousands of other friends of Jesus in the sorrow of bereavement have wished that he would comfort them in like way, by giving back their beloved. Ofttimes he does what is in effect the same,--in answer to the prayer of faith he spares the lives of those who are dear. When we pray for our sick friends, we only ask submissively that they may recover. "Not my will, but thine be done," is the refrain of our pleading. Even our most passionate longing we subdue in the quiet confidence of our faith. If it is not best for our dear ones; if it would not be a real blessing; if it is not God's way,--then "Thy will be done." If we pray the prayer of faith, we must believe that the issue, whatever it may be, is God's best for us. If our friend is taken away after such committing of faith to God's wisdom and love, there is immeasurable comfort at once in the confidence that it was God's will. Then, while no miracle is wrought, bringing back our dead, the sympathy of Christ yet brings practical consolation. The word comfort means strengthening. We are helped to bear our sorrow. The teaching of the Scriptures is that when we come with our trials to God, he either relieves us of them, or gives us the grace we need to endure them. He does not promise to lift away the burden that we cast upon him, but he will sustain us in our bearing of the burden. When the human presence is taken from us, Christ comes nearer than before, and reveals to us more of his love and grace. The problem of sorrow in a Christian life is a very serious one. It is important that we have a clear understanding upon the subject, that we may receive blessing and not hurt from our experience. Every sorrow that comes into our life brings us something good from God; but we may reject the good, and if we do, we receive evil instead. The comfort God gives is not the taking away of the trouble, nor is it the dulling of our heart's sensibilities so that we shall not feel the pain so keenly. God's comfort is strength to endure in the experience. If we put our life into the hands of Christ in the time of sorrow, and with quiet faith and sweet trust go on with our duty, all shall be well. If we resist and struggle and rebel, we shall not only miss the blessing of comfort that is infolded for us in our sorrow, but we shall receive hurt in our own life. When one is soured and embittered by trial, one has received hurt rather than blessing; but if we accept our sorrow with love and trust, we shall come out of it enriched in life and character, and prepared for better work and greater usefulness. There is a picture of a woman sitting by the sea in deep grief. The dark waters have swallowed up her heart's treasures, and her sorrow is inconsolable. Close behind her is an angel striking his harp,--the Angel of Consolation. But the woman in her stony grief sees not the angel's shining form, nor hears the music of his harp. Too often this is the picture in Christian homes. With all the boundlessness of God's love and mercy, the heart remains uncomforted. This ought not so to be. There is in Jesus Christ an infinite resource of consolation, and we have only to open our heart to receive it. Then we shall pass through sorrow sustained by divine help and love, and shall come from it enriched in character, and blessed in every phase of life. The griefs of our life set lessons for us to learn. In every pain is the seed of a blessing. In every tear a rainbow hides. Dr. Babcock puts it well in his lines:-- The dark-brown mould's upturned By the sharp-pointed plough-- And I've a lesson learned. My life is but a field, Stretched out beneath God's sky, Some harvest rich to yield. Where grows the golden grain? Where faith? Where sympathy? In a furrow cut by pain. CHAPTER XII. JESUS AND HIS SECRET FRIENDS. How many souls--his loved ones-- Dwell lonely and apart, Hiding from all but One above The fragrance of their heart. PROCTER. Not all the friends of Jesus were open friends. No doubt many believed on him who had not the courage to confess him. Two of his secret friends performed such an important part at the close of his life, boldly honoring him, that the story of their discipleship is worthy of our careful study. One of these is mentioned several times; the other we meet nowhere until he suddenly emerges from the shadows of his secret friendship, when the body of Jesus hung dead on the cross, and boldly asks leave to take it away, and with due honor bury it. Several facts concerning Joseph are given in the Gospels. He was a rich man. Thus an ancient prophecy was fulfilled. According to Isaiah, the Messiah was to make his grave with the rich. This prediction seemed very unlikely of fulfilment when Jesus hung on the cross dying. He had no burying-place of his own, and none of his known disciples could provide him with a tomb among the rich. It looked as if his body must be cast into the Potter's Field with the bodies of the two criminals who hung beside him. Then came Joseph, a rich man, and buried Jesus in his own new tomb. "He made his grave with the rich." Joseph was a member of the Sanhedrin. This gave him honor among men, and he must have been of good reputation to be chosen to so exalted a position. We are told also that he was a good man and devout, and had not consented to the counsel and deed of the court in condemning Jesus. Perhaps he had absented himself from the meeting of the Sanhedrin when Jesus was before the court. If he were present, he took no part in the condemning of the prisoner. Then it is said further that he was "a disciple of Jesus, but secretly, for fear of the Jews." That is, he was one of the friends of Jesus, believing in his Messiahship. We have no way of knowing how long he had been a disciple, but it is evident that the friendship had existed for some time. We may suppose that Joseph had sought Jesus quietly, perhaps by night, receiving instruction from him, communing with him, drinking in his spirit; but he had never yet openly declared his discipleship. The reason for this hiding of his belief in Jesus is frankly given,--"for fear of the Jews." He lacked courage to confess himself "one of this man's friends." We cannot well understand what it would have cost Joseph, in his high place as a ruler, to say, "I believe that Jesus of Nazareth is our Messiah." It is easy for us to condemn him as wanting in courage, but we must put ourselves back in his place when we think of what he failed to do. This was before Jesus was glorified. He was a lowly man of sorrows. Many of the common people had followed him; but it was chiefly to see his miracles, and to gather benefit for themselves from his power. There was only a little band of true disciples, and among these were none of the rulers and great men of the people. There is no evidence that one rabbi, one member of the Sanhedrin, one priest, one aristocratic or cultured Jew, was among the followers of Jesus during his life. It would have taken sublime courage for one of these to confess Jesus as the Messiah, and the cost of such avowal would have been incalculable. A number of years later, when Christianity had become an acknowledged power in the world, St. Paul tells us that he had to suffer the loss of all things in becoming a Christian. For Joseph, a member of the highest court of the Jews, to have said to his fellow-members in those days, before the death of Jesus, "I believe in this Nazarene whom you are plotting to kill, and I am one of his disciples and friends," would have taken a courage which too few men possess. However, one need not apologize for Joseph. The record frankly admits his fault, his weakness; for it is never a noble or a manly thing to be afraid of man or devil when duty is clear. Yet we are told distinctly that he was really a disciple of Jesus; though it was secretly, and though the reason for the secrecy was an unworthy one,--fear of the Jews. Jesus had not refused his discipleship because of its impairment. He had not said to him, "Unless you rise up in your place in the court-room, and tell your associates that you believe in me, and are going to follow me, you cannot be my disciple, and I will not have you as my friend." Evidently Jesus had accepted Joseph as a disciple, even in the shy way he had come to him; and it seems probable that a close and deep friendship existed between the two men. Possibly it may have existed for many months; and no doubt Joseph had been a comfort to Jesus in many ways before his death, although the world did not know that this noble and honorable councillor was his friend at all. The other secret friend of Jesus who assisted in his burial was Nicodemus. It was during the early weeks or months of our Lord's public ministry that he came to Jesus for the first time. It is specially mentioned that he came by night. Nicodemus also was a man of distinction,--a member of the Sanhedrin and a Pharisee, belonging thus to the class highest in rank among his people. A great deal of blame has been charged against Nicodemus because he came to Jesus by night, but again we must put ourselves back into his circumstances before we can judge intelligently and fairly of his conduct. Very few persons believed in Jesus when Nicodemus first sought him by night. Besides, may not night have been the best time for a public and prominent man to see Jesus? His days were filled--throngs were always about him, and there was little opportunity then for earnest and satisfactory conversation. In the evening Nicodemus could sit down with Jesus for a long, quiet talk without fear of interruption. Then Nicodemus came first only as an inquirer. He was not then ready to be a disciple. "Rabbi, we know that thou art a teacher come from God," was all he could say that first night. He did not concede Jesus' Messiahship. He knew him then only by what he had heard of his miracles. He was not ready yet to declare that the son of the carpenter was the Christ, the Son of God. When we remember the common Jewish expectations regarding the Messiah, and then the lowliness of Jesus and the high rank of Nicodemus, we may understand that it required courage and deep earnestness of soul for this "master in Israel" to come at all to the peasant rabbi from Galilee as a seeker after truth and light. It is scarcely surprising, therefore, that he came by night. Then, at that time the teaching and work of Jesus were only beginning. There had been some miracles, and it is written that because of these many had believed in the name of Jesus. Already, however, there had been a sharp conflict with the priests and rulers. Jesus had driven out those who were profaning the temple by using it for purposes of trade. This act had aroused intense bitterness against Jesus among the ruling classes to which Nicodemus belonged. This made it specially hard for any one of the rulers to come among the friends of Jesus, or to show even the least sympathy with him. No doubt Nicodemus in some degree lacked the heroic quality. He was not a John Knox or a Martin Luther. Each time his name is mentioned he shows timidity, and a disposition to remain hidden. Even in the noble deed of the day Jesus died, it is almost certain that Nicodemus was inspired to his part by the greater courage of Joseph. Yet we must mark that Jesus said not one word to chide or blame Nicodemus when he came by night. He accepted him as a disciple, and at once began to teach him the great truths of his kingdom. We are not told that the ruler came more than once; but we may suppose that whenever Jesus was in Jerusalem, Nicodemus sought him under the cover of the night, and sat at his feet as a learner. Doubtless Jesus and he were friends all the three years that passed between that first night when they talked of the new birth, and the day when this noble councillor assisted his fellow-member of the Sanhedrin in giving honorable and loving burial to this Teacher come from God. Once we have a glimpse of Nicodemus in his place in the Sanhedrin. Jesus has returned to Jerusalem, and multitudes follow him to hear his words. Many believe on him. The Pharisees and priests are filled with envy that this peasant from Galilee should have such tremendous influence among the people. They feel that the power is passing out of their hands, and that they must do something to silence the voice the people so love to hear. A meeting of the Great Council is called to decide what to do. Officers are sent to arrest Jesus, and bring him to the bar of the court. The officers find Jesus in the temple, in the midst of an eager throng, to whom he is speaking in his gracious, winning way. That was the day he said, "If any man thirst, let him come unto me, and drink." The officers listen as the wonderful words fall from his lips, and they, too, become interested; their attention is enchained; they come under the same spell which holds all the multitude. They linger till his discourse is ended; and then, instead of arresting him, they go back without him, only giving to the judges as reason for not obeying, "Never man spake like this man." The members of the court were enraged at this failure of their effort. Even their own police officers had proved untrue. "Are ye also deceived or led astray?" they cry in anger. Then they ask, "Have any of the rulers or of the Pharisees believed on him? But this multitude which knoweth not the law, are accursed." They would have it that only the ignorant masses had been led away by this delusion; none of the great men, the wise men, had accepted this Nazarene as the Messiah. They did not suspect that at least one of their own number, possibly two, had been going by night to hear this young rabbi. It was a serious moment for Nicodemus. He sat there in the council, and saw the fury of his brother judges. In his heart he was a friend of Jesus. He believed that he was the Messiah. Loyalty to his friend, to the truth, and to his own conscience, demanded that he should cast away the veil he was wearing, and reveal his faith in Jesus. At least he must say some word on behalf of the innocent man whom his fellow-members were determined to destroy. It was a testing-time for Nicodemus, and sore was the struggle between timidity and a sense of duty. The storm in the court-room was ready to burst; the council was about taking violent measures against Jesus. We know not what would have happened if no voice had been lifted for fair trial before condemnation. But then Nicodemus arose, and in the midst of the terrible excitement spoke quietly and calmly his few words,-- "Doth our law judge a man, except it first hear from himself and know what he doeth?" It was only a plea for fairness and for justice; but it showed the working of a heart that would be true to itself, in some measure at least, in spite of its shyness and shrinking, and in spite of the peril of the hour. The question at first excited anger and contempt against Nicodemus himself; but it checked the gathering tides of violence, probably preventing a public outbreak. We may note progress in the friendship of this secret disciple. During the two years since he first came to Jesus by night the seed dropped into his heart that night had been growing silently. Nicodemus was not yet ready to come out boldly as a disciple of Jesus; but he proved himself the friend of Jesus, even by the few words he spoke in the council when it required firm courage to speak at all. "He who at the first could come to Jesus only by night, now stands by him in open day, and in the face of the most formidable opposition, before which the courage of the strongest might have quailed." It is beautiful to see young Christians, as the days pass, growing more and more confident and heroic in their confession of Christ. At first they are shy, retiring, timid, and disposed to shrink from public revealing of themselves. But if, as they receive more of the Spirit of God in their heart, they grow more courageous in speaking for Christ and in showing their colors, they prove that they are true disciples, learners, growing in grace. The only other mention of Nicodemus is some months after the heroic word spoken in the council. What has been going on in his experience, meanwhile, we do not know. There is no evidence that he has yet declared himself a follower of Jesus. He is still a secret disciple. But the hidden life in his heart has still been growing. One day a terrible thing happened. Jesus was crucified. In their fright and panic all his friends at first forsook him, some of them, however, gathering back, with broken hearts, and standing about his cross. But never was there a more hopeless company of men in this world than the disciples of Jesus that Good Friday, when their Master hung upon the cross. They did not understand the meaning of the cross as we do to-day,--they thought it meant defeat for all the hopes they had cherished. They stood round the cross in the despair of hopeless grief. They were also powerless to do anything to show their love, or to honor the body of their Friend. They were poor and unknown men, without influence. None of them had a grave in which the body could be laid. Nor had they power to get leave to take the body away; it required a name of influence to get this permission. Their love was equal to anything, but they were helpless. In the dishonor of that day all the friends of Jesus shared. What could be done? Soon the three bodies on the crosses would be taken down by rude hands of heartless men, and cast into the Potter's Field in an indistinguishable heap. No; there is a friend at Pilate's door. He is a man of rank among the Jews--a rich man too. He makes a strange request,--he asks leave to take the body of Jesus away for burial. Doubtless Pilate was surprised that a member of the court which had condemned Jesus should now desire to honor his body, but he granted the request; perhaps he was glad thus to end a case which had cost him so much trouble. Joseph took charge of the burial of the body of Jesus. Then came another rich man and joined Joseph. "There came also Nicodemus, he who at the first came to him by night, bringing a mixture of myrrh and aloes, about a hundred pound weight. So they took the body of Jesus, and bound it in linen cloths with the spices, as the custom of the Jews is to bury." It certainly is remarkable that the two men who thus met in honoring the body of Jesus had both been his secret disciples, hidden friends, who until now had not had courage to avow their friendship and discipleship. No doubt there were many other secret friends of Jesus who during his life did not publicly confess him. The great harvest of the day of Pentecost brought out many of these for the first time. No doubt there always are many who love Christ, believe on him, and are following him in secret. They come to Jesus by night. They creep to his feet when no eye is looking at them. They cannot brave the gaze of their fellowmen. They are shy and timid. We may not say one harsh word regarding such disciples. The Master said not one word implying blame of his secret disciples. Yet it cannot be doubted that secret discipleship is incomplete. It is not just to Christ himself that we should receive the blessings of his love and grace, and not speak of him to the world. We owe it to him who gave himself for us to speak his name wherever we go, and to honor him in every way. Secret discipleship does not fulfil love's duty to the world. If we have found that which has blessed us richly, we owe it to others to tell them about it. To hide away in our own heart the knowledge of Christ is to rob those who do not know of him. It is the worst selfishness to be willing to be saved alone. Further, secret discipleship misses the fulness of blessing which comes to him who confesses Christ before men. It is he who believes with his heart and confesses with his mouth, who has promise of salvation. Confession is half of faith. Secret discipleship is repressed, restrained, confined, and is therefore hampered, hindered, stunted discipleship. It never can grow into the best possible strength and richness of life. It is only when one stands before the world in perfect freedom, with nothing to conceal, that one grows into the fullest, loveliest Christlikeness. To have the friendship of Christ, and to hide it from men is to lose its blessing out of our own heart. "To lie by the river of life and see it run to waste, To eat of the tree of heaven while the nations go unfed, To taste the full salvation--the only one to taste-- To live while the rest are lost--oh, better by far be dead! For to share is the bliss of heaven, as it is the joy of earth; And the unshared bread lacks savor, and the wine unshared, lacks zest; And the joy of the soul redeemed would be little, little worth If, content with its own security, it could forget the rest." In the case of Nicodemus and Joseph, Jesus was very gentle with timidity; but under the nurture of his gentleness timidity grew into noble courage. Yet, beautiful as was their deed that day, who will not say that it came too late for fullest honoring of the Master? It would have been better if they had shown their friendship while he was living, to have cheered him by their love. Mary's ointment poured upon the tired feet of Jesus before his death was better than the spices of Nicodemus piled about his body in the grave. CHAPTER XIII. JESUS' FAREWELL TO HIS FRIENDS. "What meaneth it that we should weep More for our joys than for our fears,-- That we should sometimes smile at grief, And look at pleasure's show through tears? Alas! but homesick children we, Who would, but cannot, play the while We dream of nobler heritage, Our Father's house, our Father's smile." At last the end came. The end comes for every earthly friendship. The sweetest life together of loved ones must have its last walk, its last talk, its last hand-clasp, when one goes, and the other stays. One of every two friends must stand by the other's grave, and drop tears all the hotter because they are shed alone. The friendship of Jesus with his disciples was very sweet; it was the sweetest friendship this world ever knew, for never was there any other heart with such capacity for loving and for kindling love as the heart of Jesus. But even this holy friendship in its earthly duration was but for a time. Jesus' hour came at last. To-morrow he was going back to his Father. Very tender was the farewell. The place chosen for it was the upper room--almost certainly in the house of Mary, the mother of John Mark. So full is the narrative of the evangelists that we can follow it through its minutest details. In the afternoon two of the closest friends of Jesus came quietly into the city from Bethany to find a room, and prepare for the Passover. All was done with the utmost secrecy. No inquiry was made for a room; but a man appeared at a certain point, bearing a pitcher of water,--a most unusual occurrence,--and the messengers silently followed him, and thus were led to the house in which was the guest-chamber which Jesus and his friends were to use. There the two disciples made the preparations necessary for the Passover. Toward the evening Jesus and the other apostles came, and found their way to the upper room. First there was the Passover feast, observed after the manner of the Jews. Then followed the institution of the new memorial--the Lord's Supper. This brought the Master and his disciples together in very sacred closeness. Judas, the one discordant element in the communion, had gone out, and all who remained were of one mind and one heart. Then began the real farewell. Jesus was going away, and he longed to be remembered. This was a wonderfully human desire. No one wishes to be forgotten. No thought could be sadder than that one might not be remembered after he is gone, that in no heart his name shall be cherished, that nowhere any memento of him shall be preserved. We all hope to live in the love of our friends long after our faces have vanished from earth. The deeper and purer our love may have been, and the closer our friendship, the more do we long to keep our place in the hearts of those we have loved. There are many ways in which men seek to keep their memory alive in the world. Some build their own tomb: few things are more pathetic than such planning for earthly immortality. Some seek to do deeds which will live in history. Some embalm their names in books, hoping thus to perpetuate them. Love's enshrining is the best way. The institution of the Last Supper showed the craving of the heart of Jesus to be remembered. "Do not forget me when I am gone," he said. That he might not be forgotten, he took bread and wine, and, breaking the one and pouring out the other, he gave them to his friends as mementos of himself. He associated this farewell meal with the great acts of his redeeming love. "This bread which I break, let it be the emblem of my body broken to be bread for the world. This wine which I empty out, let it be the emblem of my blood which I give for you." Whatever else the Lord's Supper may mean, it is first of all a remembrancer; it is the expression of the Master's desire to be remembered by his friends. It comes down to us--Christ's friends of to-day--with the same heart-craving. "Remember me; do not forget me; think of my love for you." Jesus' farewell was thus made wondrously sacred; its memories have blessed the world ever since by their warmth and tenderness. No one can ever know the measure of the influence of that last night in the upper room upon the life of these nineteen Christian centuries. The Lord's Supper was not all of the Master's farewell. There were also words spoken which have been bread and wine, the body and blood of Jesus, to believers ever since. To the eleven men gathered about that table these words were inexpressibly precious. One of them, one who leaned his head upon the Master's breast that night, remembered them in his old age, and wrote them down, so that we can read them for ourselves. It is impossible in a short chapter to study the whole of this wonderful farewell address; only a few of its great features can be gathered together. It began with an exhortation, a new commandment,--"That ye love one another." We cannot understand how really new this commandment was when given to the Master's friends. The world had never before known such love as Jesus brought into its wintry atmosphere. He had lived out the divine love among men; now his friends were to continue that love. "As I have loved you, that ye also love one another." Very imperfectly have the friends of the Master learned that love; yet wherever the gospel has gone, a wave of tenderness has rolled. Next was spoken a word of comfort whose music has been singing through the world ever since. "Let not your heart be troubled: ye believe in God, believe also in me." Unless it be the Twenty-Third Psalm, no other passage in all the Bible has had such a ministry of comfort as the first words of the fourteenth chapter of St. John's Gospel. They told the sorrowing disciples that their Master would not forget them, that his work for them would not be broken off by his death, that he was only going away to prepare a place for them, and would come again to receive them unto himself, so that where he should be they might be also. He assured them, too, that while he was going away, something better than his bodily presence would be given them instead,--another Comforter would come, so that they should not be left orphans. Part of the Master's farewell words were answers to questions which his friends asked him,--a series of conversations with one and another. These men had their difficulties; and they brought these to Jesus, and he explained them. First, Peter had a question. Jesus had spoken of going away. Peter asked him, "Lord, whither goest thou?" Jesus told him that where he was going he could not follow him then, but he should follow him by and by. Peter was recklessly bold, and he would not have it said that there was any place he could not follow his Master. He declared that he would even lay down his life for his sake. "Wilt thou lay down thy life for my sake?" answered the Master. "Wilt thou, indeed?" Then he foretold Peter's sad, humiliating fall--that, instead of laying down his life for his Lord. After the words had been spoken about the Father's house and the coming again of Jesus for his friends, Thomas had a question. Jesus had said, "Whither I go ye know, and the way ye know." Thomas was slow in his perceptions, and was given to questioning. He would take nothing for granted. He would not believe until he could understand. "Lord, we know not whither thou goest; and how can we know the way?" We are glad Thomas asked such a question, for it brought a wonderful answer. Jesus himself is the way and the truth and the life. That is, to know Christ is to know all that we need to know about heaven and the way there; to have Christ as Saviour, Friend, and Lord, is to be led by him through the darkest way--home. Not only is he the door or gate which opens into the way, but he is the way. He is the guide in the way; he has gone over it himself; everywhere we find his footprints. More than that; he is the very way itself, and the very truth about the way, and the life which inspires us in the way. To be his friend is enough; we need ask neither whither he has gone, nor the road; we need only abide in him. "Thank God, thank God, the Man is found, Sure-footed, knowing well the ground. He knows the road, for this the way He travelled once, as on this day. He is our Messenger beside, He is our Door and Path and Guide." Then Philip had a question. He had heard the Master's reply to Thomas. Philip was slow and dull, loyal-hearted, a man of practical common-sense, but without imagination, unable to understand anything spiritual, anything but bare, cold, material facts. The words of Jesus about knowing and seeing the Father caught his ear. That was just what he wanted,--to see the Father. So in his dulness he said, "Lord, show us the Father, and it sufficeth us." He was thinking of a theophany,--a glorious vision of God. Jesus was wondrously patient with the dulness of his disciples; but this word pained him, for it showed how little Philip had learned after all his three years of discipleship. "Have I been so long time with you, and yet hast thou not known me?" Then Jesus told him that he had been showing him the Father, the very thing Philip craved, all the while. Jesus went on with his gracious words for a little while, and was speaking of manifesting himself to his disciples, when he was interrupted by another question. This time it was Judas who spoke. "Not Iscariot," St. John is careful to say, for the name of Iscariot was now blotted with the blotch of treason. He had gone out into the night, and was of the disciple family no more. Judas could not understand in what special and exclusive manner Jesus would manifest himself to his own. Perhaps he expected some setting apart of Christ's followers like that which had fenced off Israel from the other nations. But Jesus swept away his disciple's thought of any narrow manifestation. There was only one condition--love. To every one who loved him and obeyed his words he would reveal himself. The manifesting would not be any theophany, as in the ancient Shekinah, but the spiritual in-dwelling of God. After these questions of his disciples had all been answered, Jesus continued his farewell words. He left several bequests to his friends, distributing among them his possessions. We are apt to ask what he had to leave. He had no houses or lands, no gold or silver. While he was on his cross the soldiers divided his clothes among themselves. Yet there are real possessions besides money and estates. One may have won the honor of a noble name, and may bequeath this to his family when he goes away. One may have acquired power which he may transmit. It seemed that night in the upper room as if Jesus had neither name nor power to leave to his friends. To-morrow he was going to a cross, and that would be the end of everything of hope or beauty in his life. Yet he quietly made his bequests, fully conscious that he had great possessions, which would bless the world infinitely more than if he had left any earthly treasure. One of these bequests was his peace. "Peace I leave with you; my peace I give unto you." It was his own peace; if it had not been his own he could not have bequeathed it to his friends. A man cannot give to others what he has not himself. It was his own because he had won it. Peace is not merely ease, the absence of strife and struggle; it is something which lives in the midst of the fiercest strife and the sorest struggle. Jesus knew not the world's peace,--ease and quiet; but he had learned a secret of heart-quietness which the world at its worst could not disturb. This peace he left to his disciples, and it made them richer than if he had given them all the world's wealth. Another of his possessions which he bequeathed was his joy. We think of Jesus as the Man of sorrows, and we ask what joy he had to give. It seemed a strange time, too, for him to be speaking of his joy; for in another hour he was in the midst of the Gethsemane anguish, and to-morrow he was on his cross. Yet in the upper room he had in his heart a most blessed joy. Even in the terrible hours that came afterwards, that joy was not quenched; for we are told that for the joy set before him he endured the cross, despising the shame. This joy also he bequeathed to his friends. "These things have I spoken unto you, that my joy may be in you." We remember, too, that they really received this legacy. The world wondered at the strange secret of joy those men had when they went out into the world. They sang songs in the darkest night. Their faces shone as with a holy inner light in the deepest sorrow. Christ's joy was fulfilled in them. He also put within the reach of his friends, as he was about to leave them, the whole of his own inheritance as the only begotten Son of God. He gave into their hands the key of heaven. He told them they should have power to do the works which they had seen him do, and even greater works than these. He told them that whatsoever they should ask the Father in his name the Father would give to them. The whole power of his name should thus be theirs, and they might use it as they would. Nothing they might ask should be refused to them; all the heavenly kingdom was thrown open to them. These are mere suggestions of the farewell gifts which Jesus left to his friends when he went away,--his peace, his joy, the key to all the treasures of his kingdom. He had blessed them in wonderful ways during his life; but the best and richest things of his love were kept to the last, and given only after he was gone. Indeed, the best things were given through his death, and could be given in no other way. Other men live to do good; they hasten to finish their work before their sun sets. God's plan for them is something they must do before death comes to write "Finis" at the end of their days. But the plan of God for Jesus centred in his death. It was the blessings that would come through his dying that were set forth in the elements used in the Last Supper,--the body broken, the blood shed. The great gifts to his friends, of which he spoke in his farewell words, would come through his dying. He must be lifted up in order to draw all men to him. He must shed his blood in order that remission of sins might be offered. It was expedient for him to go away in order that the Comforter might come. His peace and his joy were bequests which could be given only when he had died as the world's Redeemer. His name would have power to open heaven's treasures only when the atonement had been made, and the Intercessor was at God's right hand in heaven. There was one other act in this farewell of Jesus. After he had ended his gracious words, he lifted up his eyes in prayer to his Father. The pleading is full of deep and tender affection. It is like that of a mother about to go away from earth, and who is commending her children to the care of the heavenly Father, when she must leave them without mother-love and mother-shelter among unknown and dangerous enemies. Every word of the wonderful prayer throbs with love, and reveals a heart of most tender affection. While he had been with his friends, Jesus had kept them in the shelter of his own divine strength. None of them had been lost, so faithful had been his guardianship over them--none but the son of perdition. He, too, had received faithful care; it had not been the Good Shepherd's fault that he had perished. He had been lost because he resisted the divine love, and would not accept the divine will. There must have been a pang of anguish in the heart of Jesus as he spoke to his Father of the one who had perished. But the others all were safe. Jesus had guarded them through all the dangers up to the present moment. But now he is about to leave them. He knows that they must encounter great dangers, and will not have him to protect them. The form of his intercession for them is worthy of note. He does not ask that they should be taken out of the world. This would have seemed the way of tenderest love. But it is not the divine way to take us out of the battle. These friends of Jesus had been trained to be his witnesses, to represent him when he had gone away. Therefore they must stay in the world, whatever the dangers might be. The prayer was that they should be kept from the evil. There is but one evil. They were not to be kept from persecution, from earthly suffering and loss, from pain or sorrow: these are not the evils from which men's lives need to be guarded. The only real evil is sin. Our danger in trouble or adversity is not that we may suffer, but that we may sin. The pleading of Jesus was that his friends might not be hurt in their souls, in their spiritual life, by sin. If enemies wrong or injure us, the peril is not that they may cause us to suffer injustice, but that in our suffering we may lose the love out of our heart, and grow angry, or become bitter. In time of sickness, trial, or bereavement, that which we should fear is not the illness or the sorrow, but that we shall not keep sweet, with the peace of God in our breast. The only thing that can do us real harm is sin. So the intercession on our behalf ever is, not that we may be kept from things that are hard, from experiences that are costly or painful, but that we may be kept pure, gentle, and submissive, with peace and joy in our heart. There was a pleading also that the disciples might be led into complete consecration of spirit, and that they might be prepared to go out for their Master, to be to the world what he had been to them. This was not a prayer for a path of roses; rather it was for a cross, the utter devotion of their lives to God. Before the prayer closed, a final wish for his friends was expressed,--that when their work on earth was done, they might be received home; that where he should be they might be also, to behold his glory. Surely there never has been on earth another gathering of such wondrously deep and sacred meaning as that farewell meeting in the upper room. There the friendship of Jesus and his chosen ones reached its holiest experience. His deep human love appears in his giving up the whole of this last evening to this tryst with his own. He knew what was before him after midnight,--the bitter agony of Gethsemane, the betrayal, the arrest, the trial, and then the terrible shame and suffering of tomorrow. But he planned so that there should be these quiet, uninterrupted hours alone with his friends, before the beginning of the experiences of his passion. He did it for his own sake; his heart hungered for communion with his friends; with desire he desired to eat the Passover, and enjoy these hours with them before he suffered. We may be sure, too, that he received from the holy fellowship comfort and strength, which helped him in passing through the bitter hours that followed. Then, he did it also for the sake of his disciples. He knew how their hearts would be broken with sorrow when he was taken from them, and he wished to comfort them and make them stronger for the way. The memory of those holy hours hung over them like a star in all the dark night of their sorrow, and was a benediction to them as long as they lived. Then, who can tell what blessings have gone out from that farewell into the whole Church of Christ through all the centuries? It is the holy of holies of Christian history. The Lord's Supper, instituted that night, and which has never ceased to be observed as a memorial of the Master's wonderful love and great sacrifice, has sweetened the world with its fragrant memories. The words spoken by the Master at the table have been repeated from lip to heart wherever the story of the gospel has gone, and have given unspeakable comfort to millions of hearts. The petitions of the great intercessory prayer have been rising continually, like holy incense, ever since they were first uttered, taking into their clasp each new generation of believers. This farewell has kept the Christian hearts of all the centuries warm and tender with love toward him who is the unchanging Friend the same yesterday and to-day and forever. CHAPTER XIV JESUS' FRIENDSHIPS AFTER HE AROSE. "Our own are our own forever--God taketh not back his gift; They may pass beyond our vision, but our soul shall find them out When the waiting is all accomplished, and the deathly shadows lift, And the glory is given for grieving, and the surety of God for doubt." We cannot but ask questions about the after life. What is its character? What shall be the relations there of those who in the present life have been united in friendship? What effect has dying on the human affections? Does it dissolve the bonds which here have been so strong? Or do friendships go on through death, interrupted for a little time only, to be taken up again in the life beyond? Surely God will not blame us for our eagerness to know all we can learn about the world to which we are going. True, we cannot learn much about this blessed life while we stay in this world. Human eyes cannot penetrate into the deep mystery. We are like men standing on the shore of a great sea, wondering what lies on the other side. No one has come back to tell us what he found in that far country. We bring our questions to the word of God, but it avails little; even inspiration does not give us explicit revealings concerning the life of the blessed. We know that the Son of God had dwelt forever in heaven before his incarnation, and we expect that he will shed light upon the subject of life within the gates of heaven. But he is almost silent to our questions. Indeed, he seems to tell us really nothing. He gives us no description of the place from which he came, to which he returned, and to which he said his disciples shall be gathered. He says nothing about the occupations of those who dwell there. He satisfies no human yearnings to know the nature of friendship after death. We are likely to turn away from our quest for definite knowledge, feeling that even Jesus has told us nothing. Yet he has told us a great deal. There is one wonderful revelation of which perhaps too little has been made. After Jesus had died, and lain in the grave for three days, he rose again, and remained for forty days upon the earth. During that time he did not resume the old relations. He was not with his disciples as he had been during the three years of his public ministry, journeying with them, speaking to them, working miracles; yet he showed himself to them a number of times. The remarkable thing in these appearances of Jesus during the forty days is that we see in him one beyond death. Lazarus was brought back to earth after having died, but it was only the old life to which he returned. The human relations between him and his sisters and friends were restored, but probably they were not different from what they had been in the past. Lazarus was the same mortal being as before, with human frailties and infirmities. Jesus, however, after his return from the grave, was a man beyond death. He was the same person who had lived and died, and yet he was changed. He appeared and disappeared at will. He entered rooms through closed and barred doors. At last his body ascended from the earth, and passed up to heaven, subject no longer to the laws of gravitation. We see in Jesus, therefore, during the forty days, one who has passed into what we call the other life. What he was then his people will be when they have emerged from death with their spiritual bodies, for he was the first-fruits of them that are asleep. As we study Jesus in the story of those days, we are surprised to see how little he was changed. Death had left no strange marks upon him. Nothing beautiful in his life had been lost in the grave. He came back from the shadows as human as he was before he entered the valley. Dying had robbed him of no human tenderness, no gentle grace of disposition, no charm of manner. As we watch him in his intercourse with his disciples, we recognize the familiar traits which belonged to his personality during the three years of his active ministry. We may rightly infer that in our new life we shall be as little changed as Jesus was. We shall lose our sin, our frailties and infirmities, all our blemishes and faults. The long-hindered and hampered powers of our being shall be liberated. Hidden beauties shall shine out in our character, as developed pictures in the photographer's sensitized plate. There will be great changes in us in these and other regards, but our personality will be the same. Jesus was easily recognized by his friends; so shall we be by those who have known us. Whatever is beautiful and good in us here,--the fruits of spiritual conquest, the lessons learned in earth's experiences, the impressions made upon us by the Word of God, the silver and golden threads woven in our life-web by pure friendships, the effects of sorrow upon us, the work wrought in us by the Holy Spirit,--all this shall appear in our new life. We shall have incorruptible, spiritual, and glorious bodies, no longer mortal and subject to the limitations of matter; death will rob us of nothing that is worthy and true, and fit for the blessed life. "We are quite sure That he will give them back-- Bright, pure, and beautiful. * * * He does not mean--though heaven be fair-- To change the spirits entering there That they forget The eyes upraised and wet, The lips too still for prayer, The mute despair. He will not take The spirits which he gave, and make The glorified so new That they are lost to me and you. * * * I do believe that just the same sweet face, But glorified, is waiting in the place Where we shall meet. * * * God never made Spirit for spirit, answering shade for shade, And placed them side by side-- So wrought in one, though separate, mystified, And meant to break The quivering threads between." It is interesting, too, to study the friendships of Jesus after he came from the grave. He did not take up again the public life of the days before his death. He made no more journeys through the country. He spoke no more to throngs in the temple courts or by the Seaside. He no more went about healing, teaching, casting out demons, and raising the dead. He made no appearances in public. Only his disciples saw him. We have but few details of his intercourse with individuals, but such glimpses as we have are exceedingly interesting. They show us that no tender tie of friendship had been hurt by his experience of dying. The love of his heart lived on through death, and reappeared during the forty days in undiminished gentleness and kindness. He did not meet his old friends as strangers, but as one who had been away for a few days, and had come again. The first of his friends to whom he showed himself after he arose was Mary Magdalene. Her story is pathetic in its interest. The traditions of the centuries have blotted her name, but there is not the slightest evidence in the New Testament that she was ever a woman of blemished character. There is no reason whatever for identifying her with the woman that was a sinner, who came to Jesus in Simon's house. All that is said of Mary's former condition is that she was possessed of seven demons, and that Jesus freed her from this terrible bondage. In gratitude for this unspeakable deliverance Mary followed Jesus, leaving her home, and going with him until the day of his death. She was one of several women friends who accompanied him and ministered to him of their substance. Mary's devotion to Jesus was wonderful. When the tomb was closed she was one of the watchers who lingered, loath to leave it. Then, at the dawn of the first day morning she was again one of those who hurried through the darkness to the tomb, with spices for the anointing of the body--last at his cross, and earliest at his tomb. Mary's devotion was rewarded; for to her first of all his friends did Jesus appear, as she stood weeping by the empty grave. She did not recognize him at once. She was not expecting to see him risen. Then, her eyes were blinded with her tears. But the moment he spoke her name, "Mary," she knew him, and answered, "Rabboni." He was not changed to her. He had not forgotten her. The love in his heart had lost none of its tenderness. He was as accessible as ever. Dying had made him no less a friend, and no less sympathetic, than he was before he died. Soon after Mary had met Jesus, and rejoiced to find him her friend just as of old, he appeared to the other women of the company who had followed him with their grateful ministries. They also knew him, and he knew them; and their hearts suffered no wrench at the meeting, for they found the same sweet friendship they thought they had lost, just as warm and tender as ever. That same day Jesus appeared to Peter. A veil is drawn by the evangelists over the circumstances of this meeting. The friendship of Jesus and Peter had continued for three years. He had often given his Master pain and trouble through his impulsive ways. But the culmination of it all came on the night of the betrayal, when, in the hall of the high priest's palace, Peter denied being a disciple of Jesus, denied even knowing him. While for the third time the base and cowardly words were on his lips, Jesus turned and looked upon his faithless disciple with a look of grieved love, and then Peter remembered the forewarning the Master had given him. His heart was broken with penitence, and he went out and wept bitterly. But he had no opportunity to seek forgiveness; for the next morning Jesus was on his cross, and in the evening was in his grave. Peter's sorrow was very deep, for his love for his Master was very strong. We can imagine that when the truth of the resurrection began to be believed that morning, Peter wondered how Jesus would receive him. But he was not long kept in suspense. The women who came first to the tomb, to find it empty, received a message for "the disciples _and_ Peter." This singling out of his name for special mention must have given unspeakable joy to Peter. It told him that the love of Jesus was not only stronger than death, but also stronger than sin. Then, sometime during the day, Jesus appeared to Peter alone. No doubt then, in the sacredness of love, the disciple made confession, and the Master granted forgiveness. Several times during the forty days Jesus and Peter met again. The friendship had not been marred by death. The risen Lord loved just as he had loved in the days of common human intercourse. One of the most interesting of the after resurrection incidents is that of the walk to Emmaus. Cleophas and his friend were journeying homeward with sad hearts, when a stranger joined them. His conversation was wonderfully tender as he walked with them and explained the Scriptures. Then followed the evening meal, and the revealing of the risen Jesus in the breaking of bread. Again it was the same sweet friendship which had so warmed their hearts in the past, resumed by the Master on the other side of death. It was the same with all the recorded appearances of Jesus. Those who had been his friends previous to his death found him the same friend as before. He took up with each of them the threads of affection just where they had been dropped when the betrayal and arrest wrought such panic among his disciples, scattering them away, and went on with the weaving. May we not conclude that it will be with us even as it was with Jesus? His resurrection was not only a pledge of what that of believers will be, carrying within itself the seed and potency of a blessed immortality, but it was also a sample of what ours will be. Death will produce far less change in us than we imagine it will do. We shall go on with living very much as if nothing had happened. Dying is an experience we need not trouble ourselves about very much if we are believers in Christ. There is a mystery in it; but when we have passed through it we shall probably find that it is a very simple and natural event--perhaps little more serious than sleeping over night and waking in the morning. It will not hurt us in any way. It will blot no lovely thing from our life. It will end nothing that is worth while. Death is only a process in life, a phase of development, analogous to that which takes place when a seed is dropped in the earth and comes up a beautiful plant, adorned with foliage and blossoms. Life would be incomplete without dying. The greatest misfortune that could befall any one would be that he should not die. This would be an arresting of development which would be death indeed. "Death is the crown of life; Were death denied, poor man would live in vain; Were death denied, to live would not be life; Were death denied, e'en fools would wish to die. Death wounds to cure: we fall; we rise; we reign; Spring from our fetters; hasten to the skies, Where blooming Eden withers in our sight. Death gives us more than was in Eden lost; The king of terrors is the prince of peace." There is need for a reconstruction of the prevalent thoughts and conceptions of heaven. We have trained ourselves to think of life beyond the grave as something altogether different from what life is in this world. It has always been pictured thus to us. We have been taught that heaven is a place of rest, a place of fellowship with God, a place of ceaseless praise. The human element has been largely left out of our usual conceptions of the blessed life. Not much is made of the relations of believers to one another. That which is emphasized in Christian hymns and in most books about heaven is the Godward side. Much is made of the glory of the place as suggested by the visions of St. John in the Apocalypse. In many of these conceptions the chief thought of heavenly blessedness is that it is a release from earth and from earthly conditions. There is no sorrow, no trouble, no pain, no struggle, no toil, in the home to which we are going. We shall sit on the green banks of beautiful rivers, amid unfading flowers, and sing forever. We shall lie prostrate before the throne, and gaze and gaze on the face of God. But this is not the kind of heaven and heavenly life which the teachings of Jesus Would lead us to imagine. True, he speaks of the place to which he is going, and where, by and by, he would gather all his disciples, as "my Father's house." This suggests home and love; and the thought is in harmony with what we have seen in the life of Jesus during the forty days,--the continuance of the friendships formed and knit in earthly fellowships. But the vision of home life thus suggested need not imply a heaven of inaction. Indeed, no life could be more natural and beautiful than that which the thought of home suggests. We have no perfect homes on earth; but every true home has in it fragments of heaven's meaning, and always the idea is of love's service rather than of blissful indolence. We may get many thoughts of the heavenly life from other teachings of Jesus. Life is continuous. Whosoever liveth and believeth shall never die. There is no break, no interruption of life, in what we call dying. We think of eternal life as the life of heaven, the glorified life. So it is; but we have its beginnings here. The moment we believe, we have everlasting life. The Christian graces we are enjoined, to cultivate are heavenly lessons set for us to learn. If we would conceive of the life of heaven, we have but to think of ideal Christian life in this world, and then lift it up to its perfect realization. Heaven is but earth's lessons of grace better learned, earth's best spiritual life glorified. Therefore we get our truest thoughts of it from a study of Christ's ideal for the life of his followers, for it will simply be this life fully realized and infinitely extended. For example, the one great lesson set for us, the one which includes all others, is love. God is love, and we are to learn to love if we would be like him. All relationships are relationships of love. All graces are graces of love. All duties are parts of one great duty--to love one another. All worthy and noble character is love wrought out in life. All life here is a school, with its tasks, its struggles, its conflicts, its minglings with men, its friendships, its experiences of joy and sorrow, its burdens, its disappointments and hopes, and the final education to be attained is love. Browning puts it thus in "Rabbi Ben Ezra":-- Our life, with all it yields of joy or woe, And hope and fear,--believe the aged friend, Is just our chance o' the prize of learning love, How love might be, hath been, indeed, and is. What is this love which it is the one great lesson of life to learn? Toward God, it may express itself in devotion, worship, praise, obedience, fellowship. This seems to be the chief thought of love in the common conception of heaven. It is all adoration, glorifying. But love has a manward as well as a Godward development. St. John, the disciple of love, teaches very plainly that he who says he loves God must prove it by also loving man. If the whole of our training here is to be in loving and in living out our love, we certainly have the clew to the heavenly life. We shall continue in the doing of the things we have here learned to do. Life in glory will be earth's Christian life intensified and perfected. Heaven will not be a place of idle repose. Inaction can never be a condition of blessedness for a life made and trained for action. The essential quality of love is service--"not to be ministered unto, but to minister;" and for one who has learned love's lesson, happiness never can be found in a state in which there is no opportunity for ministering. In heaven it will still be more blessed to give than to receive; and those who are first will be those who with lowly spirit serve most deeply. Heaven will be a place of boundless activity. "His servants shall serve him." The powers trained here for the work of Christ will find ample opportunity there for doing their best service. Said Victor Hugo in his old age, "When I go down to the grave, I can say, like so many others, 'I have finished my day's work;' but I cannot say, 'I have finished my life.' My day's work will begin again next morning. My tomb is not a blind alley, it is a thoroughfare; it closes with the twilight to open with the dawn." Whatever mystery there may be concerning the life that believers in Christ shall live in heaven, we may be sure at least that they will carry with them all that is true and divine of their earthly life. The character formed here they will retain through death. The capacity they have gained by the use of their powers they will have for the beginning of their activity in the new life. There can be no doubt that they shall find work commensurate with and fitted to their trained powers. So heaven will be a far more natural place than we imagine it will be. It will not be greatly unlike the ideal life of earth. We probably shall be surprised when we meet each other to find how little we have changed. The old tenderness will not be missing. We shall recognize our friends by some little gentle ways they used to have here, or by some familiar thoughtfulness that was never wanting in them. The friendships we began here, and had not time to cultivate, we shall have opportunity there to renew, and carry on through immortal years. Even at the best, human friendships only begin in this life; in heaven they will reach their best and holiest possibilities. There are lives which only touch each other in this world and then separate, going their different ways--like ships that pass in the night. There will be time enough in heaven for any such faintest beginnings of friendship to be wrought out in beauty. Friendships with Jesus here touch but the shore of an infinite ocean; in heaven, unhindered, in uninterrupted fellowship, we shall be forever learning more of this love of Christ which passeth knowledge. CHAPTER XV. JESUS AS A FRIEND. "Long, long centuries Agone, One walked the earth, his life A seeming failure; Dying, he gave the world a gift That will outlast eternities." The world has always paid high honor to friendship. Some of the finest passages in all history are the stories of noble friendships,--stories which are among the classics of literature. The qualities which belong to an ideal friend have been treated by many writers through all the centuries. But Jesus Christ brought into the world new standards for everything in human life. He was the one complete Man,--God's ideal for humanity. "Once in the world's history was born a Man. Once in the roll of the ages, out of innumerable failures, from the stock of human nature, one bud developed itself into a faultless flower. One perfect specimen of humanity has God exhibited on earth." To Jesus, therefore, we turn for the divine ideal of everything in human life. What is friendship as interpreted by Jesus? What are the qualities of a true friend as illustrated in the life of Jesus? It is evident that he lifted the ideal of friendship to a height to which it never before had been exalted. He made all things new. Duty had a new meaning after Jesus taught and lived, and died and rose again. He presented among men new conceptions of life, new standards of character, new thoughts of what is worthy and beautiful. Not one of his beatitudes had a place among the world's ideals of blessedness. They all had an unworldly, a spiritual basis. The things he said that men should live for were not the things which men had been living for before he came. He showed new patterns for everything in life. Jesus presented a conception for friendship which surpassed all the classical models. In his farewell to his disciples he gave them what he called a "new commandment." The commandment was that his friends should love one another. Why was this called a new commandment? Was there no commandment before Jesus came and gave it that good men should love one another? Was this rule of love altogether new with him? In the form in which Jesus gave it, this commandment never had been given before. There was a precept in the Mosaic law which at first seems to be the same as that which Jesus gave, but it was not the same. It read, "Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself." "As thyself" was the standard. Men were to love themselves, and then love their neighbors as themselves. That was as far as the old commandment went. But the new commandment is altogether different. "As I have loved you" is its measure. How did Jesus love his disciples? As himself? Did he keep a careful balance all the while, thinking of himself, of his own comfort, his own ease, his own safety, and going just that far and no farther in his love for his disciples? No; it was a new pattern of love that Jesus introduced. He forgot himself altogether, denied himself, never saved his own life, never hesitated at any line or limit of service, of cost or sacrifice, in loving. He emptied himself, kept nothing back, spared not his own life. Thus the standard of friendship which Jesus set for his followers was indeed new. Instead of "Love thy neighbor as thyself," it was "Love as Jesus loved;" and he loved unto the uttermost. When we turn to the history of Christianity, we see that the type of friendship which Jesus introduced was indeed a new thing in the world. It was new in its motive and inspiration. The love of the Mosaic law was inspired by Sinai; the love of the Christian law got its inspiration from Calvary. The one was only cold, stern law; the other was burning passion. The one was enforced merely as a duty; the other was impressed by the wondrous love of Christ. No doubt men loved God in the Old Testament days, for there were many revealings of his goodness and his grace and love in the teachings of those who spoke for God to men. But wonderful as were these revelations, they could not for a moment be compared with the manifestation of God which was made in Jesus Christ. The Son of God came among men in human form, and in gentle and lowly life all the blessedness of the divine affection was poured out right before men's eyes. At last there was the cross, where the heart of God broke in love. No wonder that, with such inspiration, a new type of friendship appeared among the followers of Jesus. We are so familiar with the life which Christianity has produced, where the fruits of the Spirit have reached their finest and best development, that it is well-nigh impossible for us to conceive of the condition of human society as it was before Christ came. Of course there was love in the world before that day. Parents loved their children. There was natural affection, which sometimes even in heathen countries was very strong and tender. Friendships existed between individuals. History has enshrined the story of some of these. There always were beautiful things in humanity,--fragments of the divine image remaining among the ruins of the fall. But the mutual love of Christians which began to show itself on the day of Pentecost surpassed anything that had ever been known in even the most refined and gentle society. It was indeed divine love in new-born men. No mere natural human affection could ever produce such fellowship as we see in the pentecostal church. It was a little of heaven's life let down upon earth. Those who so loved one another were new men; they had been born again--born from above. Jesus came to establish the kingdom of heaven upon the earth. In other words, he came to make heaven in the hearts of his believing ones. That is what the new friendship is. A creed does not make one a Christian; commandments, though spoken amid the thunders of Sinai, will never produce love in a life. The new ideal of love which Jesus came to introduce among men was the love of God shed abroad in human hearts. "As I have loved you, that ye also love one another" was the new requirement. Since, then, the new ideal of friendship is that which Jesus gave in his own life, it will be worth our while to make a study of this holy pattern, that we may know how to strive toward it for ourselves. We may note the tenderness of the friendship of Jesus. It has been suggested by an English preacher that Christ exhibited the blended qualities of both sexes. "There was in him the womanly heart as well as the manly brain." Yet tenderness is not exclusively a womanly excellence; indeed, since tenderness can really coexist only with strength, it is in its highest manifestation quite as truly a manly as a womanly quality. Jesus was inimitably tender. Tenderness in him was never softness or weakness. It was more like true motherliness than almost any other human affection; it was infolding, protecting, nourishing love. We find abundant illustrations of this quality in the story of the life of Jesus. The most kindly and affectionate men are sure sometime to reveal at least a shade of harshness, coldness, bitterness, or severity. But in Jesus there was never any failure of tenderness. We see it in his warm love for John, in his regard for little children, in his compassion for sinners who came to his feet, in his weeping over the city which had rejected him and was about to crucify him, in his thought for the poor, in his compassion for the sick. Another quality of the friendship of Jesus was patience. In all his life he never once failed in this quality. We see it in his treatment of his disciples. They were slow learners. He had to teach the same lesson over and over again. They could not understand his character. But he wearied not in his teaching. They were unfaithful, too, in their friendship for him. In a time of alarm they all fled, while one of them denied him, and another betrayed him. But never once was there the slightest impatience shown by him. Having loved his own, he loved them unto the uttermost, through all dulness and all unfaithfulness. He suffered unjustly, but bore all wrong in silence. He never lost his temper. He never grew discouraged, though all his work seemed to be in vain. He never despaired of making beauty out of deformity in his disciples. He never lost hope of any soul. Had it not been for this quality of unwearying patience nothing would ever have come from his interest in human lives. The friendship of Jesus was unselfish. He did not choose those whose names would add to his influence, who would help him to rise to honor and renown; he chose lowly, unknown men, whom he could lift up to worthy character. His enemies charged against him that he was the friend of publicans and sinners. In a sense this was true. He came to be a Saviour of lost men. He said he was a physician; and a physician's mission is among the sick, not among the whole and well. The friendship of Jesus was not checked or foiled by the discovery of faults or blemishes in those whom he had taken into his life. Even in our ordinary human relations we do not know what we are engaging to do when we become the friend of another. "For better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health," runs the marriage covenant. The covenant in all true friendship is the same. We pledge our friend faithfulness, with all that faithfulness includes. We know not what demands upon us this sacred compact may make in years to come. Misfortune may befall our friend, and he may require our aid in many ways. Instead of being a help he may become a burden. But friendship must not fail, whatever its cost may be. When we become the friend of another we do not know what faults and follies in him closer acquaintance may disclose to our eyes. But here, again, ideal friendship must not fail. What is true in common human relations was true in a far more wonderful way of the friendship of Jesus. We have only to recall the story of his three years with his disciples. They gave him at the best a very feeble return for his great love for them. They were inconstant, weak, foolish, untrustful. They showed personal ambition, striving for first places, even at the Last Supper. They displayed jealousy, envy, narrowness, ingratitude, unbelief, cowardice. As these unlovely things appeared in the men Jesus had chosen, his friendship did not slacken or unloose its hold. He had taken them as his friends, and he trusted them wholly; he committed himself to them absolutely, without reserve, without condition, without the possibility of withdrawal. No matter how they failed, he loved them still. He was patient with their weaknesses and with their slow growth, and was not afraid to wait, knowing that in the end they would justify his faith in them and his costly friendship for them. Jesus thought not of the present comfort and pleasure of his friends, but of their highest and best good. Too often human friendship in its most generous and lavish kindness is really most unkind. It thinks that its first duty is to give relief from pain, to lighten burdens, to alleviate hardship, to smoothe the rough path. Too often serious hurt is done by this over-tenderness of human love. But Jesus made no such mistakes in dealing with his friends. He did not try to make life easy for them. He did not pamper them. He never lowered the conditions of discipleship so that it would be easy for them to follow him. He did not carry their burdens for them, but put into their hearts courage and hope to inspire and strengthen them to carry their own loads. He did not keep them secluded from the world in a quiet shelter so that they would not come in contact with the world's evil nor meet its assaults; his method with them was to teach them how to live so that they should have the divine protection in the midst of spiritual danger, and then to send them forth to face the perils and fight the battles. His prayer for his disciples was not that they should be taken out of the world, thus escaping its dangers and getting away from its struggles, but that they should be kept from the world's evil. He knew that if they would become good soldiers they must be trained in the midst of the conflict. Hence he did not fight their battles for them. He did not save Peter from being sifted; it was necessary that his apostle should pass through the terrible experience, even though he should fail in it and fall. His prayer for him was not that he should not be sifted, but that his faith should not altogether fail. His aim in all his dealings with his friends was to train them into heroic courage and invincible character, and not to lead them along flowery paths through gardens of ease. We are in the habit of saying that the follower of Christ will always find goodness and mercy wherever he is led. This is true; but it must not be understood to mean that there will never be any hardness to endure, any cross to bear, any pain or loss to experience. We grow best under burdens. We learn most when lessons are hard. When we get through this earthly life, and stand on the other side, and can look back on the path over which we have been led, it will appear that we have found our best blessings where we thought the way was most dreary and desolate. We shall see then that what seemed sternness and severity in Christ was really truest and wisest friendship. One writes:-- "If you could go back to the forks of the road-- Back the long miles you have carried the load; Back to the place where you had to decide By this way or that through your life to abide; Back of the sorrow and back of the care; Back to the place where the future was fair-- If you were there now, a decision to make, Oh, pilgrim of sorrow, which road would you take? Then, after you'd trodden the other long track, Suppose that again to the forks you went back, After you found that its promises fair Were but a delusion that led to a snare-- That the road you first travelled with sighs and unrest, Though dreary and rough, was most graciously blest, With a balm for each bruise and a charm for each ache, Oh, pilgrim of sorrow, which road would you take?" Sometimes good people are disappointed in the way their prayers are answered. Indeed, they seem not to be answered at all. They ask God to take away some trouble, to lift off some load, and their request is not granted. They continue to pray, for they read that we must be importunate, that men ought always to pray and not to faint; but still there seems no answer. Then they are perplexed. They cannot understand why God's promises have failed. But they have only misread the promises. There is no assurance given that the burdens shall be lifted off and carried for us. God would not be the wise, good, and loving Father he is, if at every cry of any of his children he ran to take away the trouble, or free them from the hardness, or make all things easy and pleasant for them. Such a course would keep us always children, untrained, undisciplined. Only in burden-bearing and in enduring can we learn to be self-reliant and strong. Jesus himself was trained on the battlefield, and in life's actual experiences of trial. He learned obedience by the things that he suffered. It was by meeting temptation and by being victorious in it that he became Master of the world, able to deliver us in all our temptations. Not otherwise can we grow into Christlike men. It would be unkindness in our Father to save us from the experiences by which alone we can be disciplined into robust and vigorous strength. The promises do not read that if we call upon God in our trouble he will take the trouble away. Rather the assurance is that if we call upon God he will answer us. The answer may not be relief; it may be only cheer. We are taught to cast our burden upon the Lord, but we are not told that the Lord will take it away. The promise is that he will sustain us under the burden. We are to continue to bear it; and we are assured that we shall not faint under the load, for God will strengthen us. The assurance is not that we shall not be tempted, but that no temptation but such as man can bear shall come to us, and that the faithful God will not suffer us to be tempted above that we are able to endure. This, then, is what divine friendship does. It does not make it easy for us to live, for then we should get no blessing of strength and goodness from living. How, then, are our prayers answered? God sustains us so that we faint not; and then, as we endure in faith and patience, his benediction is upon us, giving us wisdom, and imparting strength to us. The friendship of Jesus was always sympathetic. Many persons, however, misunderstand the meaning of sympathy. They think of it as merely a weak pity, which sits down beside one who is suffering or in sorrow, and enters into the experience, without doing anything to lift him up or strengthen him. Such sympathy is really of very little value in the time of trouble. It may impart a consciousness of companionship which will somewhat relieve the sense of aloneness, but it makes the sufferer no braver or stronger. Indeed, it takes strength from him by aggravating his sense of distress. It was not thus, however, that the sympathy of Jesus was manifested. There was no real pain or sorrow in any one which did not touch his heart and stir his compassion. He bore the sicknesses of his friends, and carried their sorrows, entering with wonderful love into every human experience. But he did more than feel with those who were suffering, and weep beside them. His sympathy was always for their strengthening. He never encouraged exaggerated thoughts of pain or suffering--for in many minds there is a tendency to such feelings. He never gave countenance to morbidness, self-pity, or any kind of unwholesomeness in grief. He never spoke of sorrow or trouble in a despairing way. He sought to inculcate hope, and to make men braver and stronger. His ministry was always toward cheer and encouragement. He gave great eternal truths on which his friends might rest in their sorrow, and then bade them be of good cheer, assuring them that he had overcome the world. He gave them his peace and his joy; not sinking down into the depths of sad helplessness with them, but rather lifting them up to sympathy with him in his victorious life. The wondrous hopefulness of Jesus pervades all his ministry on behalf of others. He was never discouraged. Every sorrow was to him a path to a deeper joy. Every battle was a way to the blessing of victoriousness. Every load under which men bent was a secret of new strength. In all loss gain was infolded. Jesus lived this life himself; it was no mere theory which he taught to his followers, and had never tried or proved himself. He never asked his friends to accept any such untested theories. He lived all his own lessons. He was not a mere teacher; he was a leader of men. Thus his strong friendship was full of magnificent inspiration. He called men to new things in life, and was ready to help them reach the highest possibilities in achievement and attainment. This friendship of Jesus is the inspiration which is lifting the world toward divine ideals. "I, if I be lifted up from the earth, will draw all men unto me," was the stupendous promise and prophecy of Jesus, as his eye fell on the shadow of the cross at his feet, and he thought of the fruits of his great sorrow and the influence of his love. Every life that is struggling to reach the beauty and perfectness of God's thought for it is feeling the power of this blessed friendship, and is being lifted up into the likeness of the Master. This friendship of Jesus waits as a mighty divine yearning at the door of every human heart "Behold, I stand at the door, and knock," is its call. "If any man hear my voice, and open the door, I will come in to him, and will sup with him, and he with me." This blessed friendship waits before each life, waits to be accepted, waits to receive hospitality. Wherever it is received, it inspires in the heart a heavenly love which transforms the whole life. To be a friend of Christ is to be a child of God in the goodly fellowship of heaven. Rev. Dr. Miller's Books A HEART GARDEN BUILDING OF CHARACTER COME YE APART DR. MILLER'S YEAR BOOK EVENING THOUGHTS EVERY DAY OF LIFE FINDING THE WAY FOR THE BEST THINGS GLIMPSES THROUGH LIFE'S WINDOWS GOLDEN GATE OF PRAYER HIDDEN LIFE JOY OF SERVICE LESSON OF LOVE MAKING THE MOST OF LIFE MINISTRY OF COMFORT MORNING THOUGHTS PERSONAL FRIENDSHIPS OF JESUS SILENT TIMES STORY OF A BUSY LIFE STRENGTH AND BEAUTY THINGS TO LIVE FOR UPPER CURRENTS WHEN THE SONG BEGINS WIDER LIFE YOUNG PEOPLE'S PROBLEMS Booklets BEAUTY OF KINDNESS BLESSING OF CHEERFULNESS BY THE STILL WATERS CHRISTMAS MAKING CURE FOR CARE FACE OF THE MASTER GENTLE HEART GIRLS; FAULTS AND IDEALS GLIMPSES OF THE HEAVENLY LIFE HOW? WHEN? WHERE? IN PERFECT PEACE INNER LIFE LOVING MY NEIGHBOR MARRIAGE ALTAR MARY OF BETHANY SECRET OF GLADNESS SECRETS OF HAPPY HOME LIFE SUMMER GATHERING TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW TRANSFIGURED LIFE TURNING NORTHWARD UNTO THE HILLS YOUNG MEN; FAULTS AND IDEALS Thomas Y. Crowell & Company 
27500	----	[Transcriber's note: the plus (+) symbol is used in this etext to indicate bolded text.] THE NEW THEOLOGY BY R. J. CAMPBELL, M.A. MINISTER OF THE CITY TEMPLE, LONDON New York THE MACMILLAN COMPANY 1907 _All rights reserved_ COPYRIGHT, 1907, BY THE MACMILLAN COMPANY. Set up and electrotyped. Published March, 1907. Reprinted April, 1907. INTRODUCTION This book has been undertaken at the request of a number of my friends who feel that recent criticisms of what has come to be called the New Theology ought to be dealt with in some comprehensive and systematic way. With this suggestion my own judgment concurs, but only so far as my own pulpit teaching is concerned. I cannot pretend to speak for anyone else, and therefore this monograph must not be understood as an authoritative exposition of the views held and expounded by other preachers who may be in sympathy with the New Theology. From its very nature, as I hope the following pages will show, the New Theology cannot be a creed, but its adherents have a common standpoint. My only reason for calling this book by that title is that a considerable section of the public at present persists in regarding me as in a special way the exponent of it; indeed from the correspondence which has been proceeding in the press it is evident that many people credit me with having invented both the name and the thing. It is of little use objecting to the name, for to all appearance it has come to stay and is gradually acquiring a marked and definite content. So long as it is clearly understood that this book is but an outline statement of my own personal views, the title will do no harm. The controversy which is not yet over has been fruitful in misunderstandings of all kinds, and a great many of the criticisms passed upon my teaching have been wholly due to a mistaken notion of what it really is. In so far as any of those criticisms have been directed against me personally, I have nothing to say; I hope I can leave my vindication to the judgment of whatever public may feel an interest in my work. The best rejoinder that could be made to the various criticisms of the teaching itself would be to publish them side by side, for they neutralise one another most effectually. But a better and more useful thing to do is to let the public know just what the teaching is and leave it to the test of time. I do not greatly object to having it described as "new." The fundamental principle of the New Theology is as old as religion, but I am quite willing to admit that in its all-round application to the conditions of modern life it is new. I do not see why a man should be ashamed of confessing that he does his own thinking instead of letting other people do it for him. This book, then, is not the author's _Apologia pro Vita Sua_. It is intended as a concise statement of the outlines of the teaching given from the City Temple pulpit. It is neither a reply to separate criticisms nor an _ex cathedra_ utterance. I think I am usually able to say what I mean, and in the following pages my object is to say what I mean in such a way that everyone can understand. CONTENTS CHAPTER I. THE NAME AND THE SITUATION II. GOD AND THE UNIVERSE III. MAN IN RELATION TO GOD IV. THE NATURE OF EVIL VI. THE ETERNAL CHRIST VII. THE INCARNATION OF THE SON OF GOD VIII. THE ATONEMENT.--I. ASSOCIATION OF THE DOCTRINE WITH JESUS IX. THE ATONEMENT.--II. SEMITIC IDEAS OF ATONEMENT X. THE ATONEMENT.--III. THE DOCTRINE IN CHRISTIAN HISTORY AND EXPERIENCE XI. THE AUTHORITY OF SCRIPTURE XII. SALVATION, JUDGMENT, AND THE LIFE TO COME XIII. THE CHURCH AND THE KINGDOM OF GOD XIV. CONCLUSION THE NEW THEOLOGY CHAPTER I THE NAME AND THE SITUATION +Religion and Theology.+--Religion is one thing and theology another, but religion is never found apart from a theology of some kind, for theology is the intellectual articulation of religious experience. Every man who has anything worthy to be called a religious experience has also a theology; he cannot help it. No sooner does he attempt to understand or express his experience of the relations of God and the soul than he finds himself in possession of a theology. The religious experience may be a very good one and the theology a very bad one, but still religion and theology are necessary to each other, and it is a man's duty to try to make his theology as nearly as possible an adequate and worthy expression of his religion. He will never succeed in doing this in a permanent fashion, for the content of religious experience is, or should be, greater than any form of statement. But theology is everyone's business. We cannot afford to leave it to experts or refrain from forming our own judgment upon the pronouncements of experts. To speak of theology as though it had an esoteric and an exoteric side, one for the man in the study and the other for the man in the world, is a practical heresy of a most dangerous kind. Neither should theology be confounded with ecclesiasticism. It is my conviction that the battle with ecclesiasticism has long since been decided, and civilisation has nothing to fear from the official priest. Those who spend their time in protesting against sacerdotal pretensions are only beating the air--"We shall never go to Canossa," as Bismarck said. No, the real danger to spiritual religion, and therefore to the immediate future of mankind in every department of thought and action, arises from practical materialism on the one hand and an antiquated dogmatic theology on the other. I hope it will be understood by readers of these pages that in any references I may make to dogmatic theology I am passing no reflection upon the scientific theologian whose work is being done in the field of historical criticism or archaeology or any of the departments of scientific research into the subject-matter of religion. Most of my readers will understand quite well what I mean. Everyone knows that, broadly speaking, certain ways of stating Christian truth are taken for granted both in pulpit and pew; the popular or generally accepted theology of all the churches of Christendom, Catholic and Protestant alike, is fundamentally the same, and somehow the modern mind has come to distrust it. There is a curious want of harmony between our ordinary views of life and our conventional religious beliefs. We live our lives upon one set of assumptions during six days of the week and a quite different set on Sunday and in church. The average man feels this without perhaps quite realising what is the matter. All he knows is that the propositions he has been taught to regard as a full and perfect statement of Christianity have little or nothing to do with his everyday experience; they seem to belong to a different world. He does not know how comparatively modern this popular presentation of Christianity is. What is wanted therefore is a restatement of the essential truth of the Christian religion in terms of the modern mind. _The New Theology and the Immanence of God._--Where or when the name New Theology arose I do not know, but it has been in existence for at least one generation. It is neither of my invention nor of my choice. It has long been in use both in this country and in America to indicate the attitude of those who believe that the fundamentals of the Christian faith need to be rearticulated in terms of the immanence of God. Those who take this view do not hold that there is any need for a new religion, but that the forms in which the religion of Jesus is commonly presented are inadequate and misleading. What is wanted is freshness and simplicity of statement. The New Theology is not new except in the sense that it seeks to substitute simplicity for complexity and to get down to moral values in its use of religious terms. Our objection is not so much to the venerable creeds of Christendom as to the ordinary interpretations of those creeds. And, creeds or no creeds, we hold that the religious experience which came to the world in Jesus of Nazareth is enough for all our needs, and only requires to be freed from limiting statements in order to lay firm hold once more upon the civilised world. The New Theology is an untrammelled return to the Christian sources in the light of modern thought. Its starting point is a re-emphasis of the Christian belief in the divine immanence in the universe and in mankind. This doctrine is certainly not new, but it requires to be placed effectively in the foreground of Christian preaching. In the immediate past the doctrine of the divine transcendence--that is, the obvious truth that the infinite being of God must transcend the infinite universe--has been presented in such a way as to amount to a practical dualism, and to lead men to think of God as above and apart from His world instead of expressing Himself through His world. I repeat that this dualism is practical, not theoretical, but that it exists is plain enough from such statements as that of the present-day theologian who speaks of God's "eternal eminence, and His descent on a created world." This kind of theologising leads straight to the conclusion that God is to all intents and purposes quite distinct from His creation, although He possesses a full and accurate knowledge of all that goes on in it and reserves to Himself the right to interfere. In what sense language like this leaves room for the divine immanence it is difficult to see. The New Theology holds that we know nothing and can know nothing of the Infinite Cause whence all things proceed except as we read Him in His universe and in our own souls. It is the immanent God with whom we have to do, and if this obvious fact is once firmly grasped it will simplify all our religious conceptions and give us a working faith. +The decline of organised Christianity.+--For a generation or more in every part of Christendom there has been a steady drift away from organised religion as represented by the churches, and the question is being seriously asked whether Christianity can much longer hold its own. Protestant controversialists frequently draw attention to the decline of church-going in Latin countries as evidence of the decay of sacerdotalism, particularly in the church of Rome. But outside Latin countries it is not one whit more noticeable in the church of Rome than in any other church. The masses of the people on the one hand and the cultured classes on the other are becoming increasingly alienated from the religion of the churches. A London daily paper made a religious census some years ago and demonstrated that about one-fifth of the population of the metropolis attended public worship, and this was a generous estimate. Women, who are more emotional, more reverent, and more amenable to external authority than men, usually form the majority of the worshippers at an ordinary service. Mr. Charles Booth in his great work on the "Life and Labour of the People in London" asserts that the churches are practically without influence of any kind on the communal life. This I believe to be an exaggeration, but it will hardly be denied that the average working, business, or professional man looks upon the churches almost with indifference. In many cases this indifference passes into hostility or contempt. Intelligent men take little notice of preachers and sermons, and the theologically-minded layman is such a rarity as to be noteworthy. Most significant of all, perhaps, is the fact that much of the moral earnestness of the nation and of social redemptive effort exists outside the churches altogether. I am well aware that there is a great deal of snarling criticism of the churches which springs from selfish materialism, and I gladly recognise that in almost any ordinary church to-day brave and self-denying work is being done for the common good, but this does not invalidate my general statement. The plain, bald fact remains that the churches as such are counting for less and less in civilisation in general and our own nation in particular. One of the ablest of our rising young members of Parliament, a man of strong religious convictions and social sympathies, recently declared that we were witnessing the melancholy spectacle of a whole civilisation breaking away from the faith out of which it grew. To be sure, the same thing has been said before and has proved to be wrong. It was said in the eighteenth century when men with something of the prophet's fire in them preached the gospel of the Rights of Man, declaring at the same time that institutional religion was at an end, utterly discredited, and impossible of acceptance by any intelligent being. In France during the Revolution the populace turned frantically upon the established faith, tore it to shreds, burlesqued it, and set up the worship of the Goddess of Reason, as they called it, typified by a Parisian harlot. In England a devitalised Deism laid its chilly hand not only upon the world of scholars and men of letters, but even upon the church. An English king is reported to have said that half his bishops were atheists. And yet, somehow, religion reasserted itself all over the civilised world. Napoleon with shrewd insight realised that the people could not do without it, and so effected the Concordat with Rome which has now been dissolved; Wesley began the movement in England which has since created the largest Protestant denomination in the world; Germany produced a succession of great preachers and scholars the like of whom had hardly ever been known in Europe before. +Will religious faith regain its power?+--Will this happen again? For assuredly Christianity has for the moment lost its hold. Can it recover it? I am sure it can, if only because the moral movements of the age, such as the great labour movement, are in reality the expression of the Christian spirit, and only need to recognise themselves as such in order to become irresistible. The waggon of socialism needs to be hitched to the star of religious faith. But have the churches spiritual energy enough to recover their lost position? That depends upon themselves. If they consent to be bound by dogmatic statements inherited from the past, they are doomed. The world is not listening to theologians to-day. They have no message for it. They are on the periphery, not at the centre of things. The great rolling river of thought and action is passing them by. Scientific scholarship applied to the study of Christian origins is extremely valuable, but the defender of systems of belief couched in the language of a by-gone age is an anachronism and the sooner we shake ourselves free of him the better. The greatest of all the causes of the drift from the churches is the fact that Christian truth has become associated in the popular mind with certain forms of statement which thoughtful men find it impossible to accept not only on intellectual but even on moral grounds. Certain dogmatic beliefs, for example, about the Fall, the scriptural basis of revelation, the blood-atonement, the meaning of salvation, the punishment of sin, heaven and hell, are not only misleading but unethical. What sensible man really believes in these notions as popularly assumed and presented, and what have they to do with Christianity? They do not square with the facts of life, much less do they interpret life. They go straight in the teeth of the scientific method, which, even where the Christian facts are concerned, is the only method which carries weight with the modern mind. The consequence is that religion has come to be thought of as something apart from ordinary everyday life, a matter of churches, creeds, and Bible readings, instead of what it really is,--the coördinating principle of all our activities. To put the matter in a nutshell,--popular Christianity (or rather pulpit and theological college Christianity) does _not_ interpret life. Consequently the great world of thought and action is ceasing to trouble about it. +Theologians and preachers rarely realise the situation.+--One would think that the men whose business it is to teach religious truth would see this and ask themselves the reason why. To an extent they do see it, but they never seem to think of blaming themselves for it except in a perfunctory kind of way. They talk about religious indifference, the need for better and more effective methods, and so on. The professional theologian rarely does even as much as this. He takes himself very seriously; sniffs and sneers at any suggestion of deviation from the accepted standards; mounts some denominational chair or other and thunders forth his view of the urgent necessity for rehabilitating truth in the grave-clothes of long-buried formulas. I mean that the language he habitually uses implies some kind of belief in formulas he no longer holds. He hardly dares to disinter the formulas themselves,--that would not be convenient even for him,--but he goes on flapping the shroud as energetically as ever, and the world does not even take the trouble to laugh. Wherever and whenever religious agencies succeed it is rarely because of the driving power of what is preached, but because the preacher's gospel is glossed over or put in the background. We have popular services by the million in which devices are used to attract the public which ought not to be necessary if their framers had any real message to declare. But they have not. Popular pulpit addresses rarely or never deal with the fundamental problems of life. The last thing one ever expects to hear in such addresses is a real living representation of the beliefs the preacher professes to hold. He makes passing allusions to them, of course, such as appeals to come to the cross, and such like, but they generally sound unreal, and the pill has to be sweetly sugared. The ordinary way of preaching the gospel is to avoid saying much about what the preacher believes the gospel to be. To be sure there are many social activities in connection with Christian churches. If it were not for these the churches would have to be shut up. They are quite admirable in their way, and often produce excellent results, but they imply another gospel than the one supposed to be preached from the pulpits. They ignore dogmatic beliefs, and assume the salvability of the whole race and the possibility of realising the kingdom of God on earth. Wherever the churches are alive to-day, and not merely struggling to keep their heads above water, it is not their doctrine but their non-theological human sympathy that is doing it. This, then, is the situation. The main stream of modern life is passing organised religion by. Where is the remedy to be found? +We seek to save religion rather than the Churches.+--Let me say plainly that I do not think our object should be to find a remedy which will save the churches. That would be putting the cart before the horse. What is wanted is a driving force which will enable the churches to fulfil their true mission of saving the world, or, to put it better still, will serve to bring mankind back to real living faith in God and the spiritual meaning of life. Hardly anyone would seriously deny that the world is waiting for this. Men are not irreligious. On the contrary there is no subject of such general interest as religion; it takes precedence of all other subjects just because all other subjects are implied in it. Religion is man's response to the call of the universe; it is the soul turning towards its source and goal. How could it fail to be of absorbing interest? What is wanted is a message charged with spiritual power, "Where there is no vision the people perish." Mere dogmatic assertions will not do. The word of God is to be known from the fact that it illuminates life and appeals to the deepest and truest in the soul of man. That message is here now. It is being preached, not by one man only, but the wide world over. God has spoken, and woe betide the churches if they will not hear. Religion is necessary to mankind, but churches are not. From every quarter of Christendom a new spirit of hope and confidence is rising, born of a conviction that all that is human is the evidence of God, and that Jesus held the key to the riddle of existence. Although this comes to us as with the freshness of a new revelation, it is not really new. It is the spirit which has been the inspiration of every great religious awakening since the world began. In this country and in other parts of the English-speaking world that spirit is becoming associated with the name the New Theology. To associate it with any one personality is to belittle the subject and to obscure its real significance. There are many brave and good men in the churches and outside the churches to-day, men of true prophetic spirit, who would reject utterly the name New Theology, but who are thoroughly imbued with this new-old spirit and are leading mankind toward the light. In the church of Rome the movement is typified by men like Father Tyrrell, whose teaching has led to his expulsion from the Jesuit order, but not, so far, from the priesthood. The present condition of the church of Rome is not unhopeful to those who believe as I do that that venerable church has been used of God to great ends in the past and that her spiritual vitality is by no means exhausted. Father Tyrrell and such as he are nearer in spirit to the New Theology men than are the latter to those Protestants who pin their faith to external standards of belief. It is a curious but indisputable fact that the most extreme anti-Romanist Protestants are themselves in the same boat with Rome: they insist on the absolute necessity for external authority in matters of belief and are unwilling to trust the individual soul to recognise truth as it comes. In all the churches those who believe in the religion of the Spirit should recognise one another as brothers. In the church of England a large and increasing band of men are looking in this direction and are making their influence felt. Of these perhaps the most outstanding is Archdeacon Wilberforce, but he is by no means alone. A movement has begun in the Lutheran church. It has existed for a long time in French Protestantism as represented by the late Auguste Sabatier and his friend Réville. In the congregational and other evangelical churches of England and America the same attitude is being taken by many who are not even aware that the name New Theology is being applied to it. In this country the movement in the free churches is typified by men like the Rev. T. Rhondda Williams of Bradford. There are many Unitarians who are preaching it; indeed, there are some who would assert that the New Theology is only Unitarianism under another name. But, as I shall hope to show, this is very far from being the case. It may or may not be professed by exponents of Unitarianism, but it is not a surrender to Unitarianism. +The New Theology is spiritual socialism.+--The great social movement which is now taking place in every country of the civilised world toward universal peace and brotherhood and a better and fairer distribution of wealth is really the same movement as that which in the more distinctively religious sphere is coming to be called the New Theology. This fact needs to be realised and brought out. The New Theology is the gospel of the kingdom of God. Neither socialism nor any other economic system will permanently save and lift mankind without definitely recognised spiritual sanctions, that is, it must be a religion. The New Theology is but the religious articulation of the social movement. The word "theology" is almost a misnomer; it is essentially a moral and spiritual movement, the recognition that we are at the beginning of a great religious and ethical awakening, the ultimate results of which no man can completely foresee. +And also the religion of science.+--Again, the New Theology is the religion of science. It is the denial that there is, or ever has been, or ever can be, any dissonance between science and religion; it is the recognition that upon the foundations laid by modern science a vaster and nobler fabric of faith is rising than that world has ever before known. Science is supplying the facts which the New Theology is weaving into the texture of religious experience. CHAPTER II GOD AND THE UNIVERSE +What religion is.+--All religion begins in cosmic emotion. It is the recognition of an essential relationship between the human soul and the great whole of things of which it is the outcome and expression. The mysterious universe is always calling, and, in some form or other, we are always answering. The artist answers by trying to express his feeling of its beauty; the scientist answers by recognising its laws and unfolding its wonders; the social reformer answers by his self-denying labours for the common good. In each and every case there is in the background of experience a conviction that the unit is the instrument of the All; religion is implied in these as in all other activities in which man aims at a higher-than-self. But religion, properly so-called, begins when the soul consciously enters upon communion with this higher-than-self as with an all-comprehending intelligence; it is the soul instinctively turning toward its source and goal. Religion may assume a great many different and even repellent forms, but at bottom this is what it always is: it is the soul reaching forth to the great mysterious whole of things, the higher-than-self, and seeking for closer and ever closer communion therewith. The savage with his totem and the Christian saint before the altar have this in common: they are reaching through the things that are seen to the reality beyond. +What the word "God" means.+--But what name are we to give to this higher-than-self whose presence is so unescapable? The name matters comparatively little, but it includes all that the ordinary Christian means by God. The word "God" stands for many things, but to present-day thought it must stand for the un-caused Cause of all existence, the unitary principle implied in all multiplicity. Everyone of necessity believes in this. It is impossible to define the term completely, for to define is necessarily to limit, and we are thinking of the illimitable. But we ought to understand clearly that to disbelieve in God is an impossibility; everyone believes in God if he believes in his own existence. The blankest materialist that ever lived, whoever he may have been, must have affirmed God even in the act of denying Him. Professor Haeckel declares his belief in God on every page of his "Riddle of the Universe," the famous book in which he says that God, Freedom, and Immortality are the three great buttresses of superstition, which science must make it her business to destroy. So far science has only succeeded in giving us a vaster, grander conception of God by giving us a vaster, grander conception of the universe in which we live. When I say God, I mean the mysterious Power which is finding expression in the universe, and which is present in every tiniest atom of the wondrous whole. I find that this Power is the one reality I cannot get away from, for, whatever else it may be, it is myself. Theologians will tell me that I have taken a prodigious leap in saying this, but I cannot help it. How can there be anything in the universe outside of God? Whatever distinctions of being there may be within the universe it is surely clear that they must all be transcended and comprehended within infinity. There cannot be two infinities, nor can there be an infinite and also a finite beyond it. What infinity may be we have no means of knowing. Here the most devout Christian is just as much of an agnostic as Professor Huxley; we can predicate nothing with confidence concerning the all-comprehending unity wherein we live and move and have our being, save and except as we see it manifested in that part of our universe which lies open to us. One would think that this were so obvious as to need no demonstration. But how do ordinary church-going Christians talk about God? They talk as though He were (practically) a finite being stationed somewhere above and beyond the universe, watching and worrying over other and lesser finite beings, to wit, ourselves. According to the received phraseology this God is greatly bothered and thwarted by what men have been doing throughout the few millenniums of human existence. He takes the whole thing very seriously, and thinks about little else than getting wayward humanity into line again. To this end He has adopted various expedients, the chief of which was the sending of His only begotten Son to suffer and die in order that He might be free to forgive the trouble we had caused Him. I hope no reader of these words will think I am making light of a sacred subject; I never was more serious in my life. What I am trying to show is that, reduced to its simplest terms, the accepted theology of the churches to-day is pitiably inadequate as an explanation of our relationship to this great and mysterious universe. There is a beautiful spiritual truth underneath every venerable article of the Christian faith, but as popularly presented this truth has become so distorted as to be falsehood. It narrows religion and belittles God. It is dishonouring to human nature, and is absolutely ludicrous as an interpretation of the cosmic process. Of course, the dogmatic theologian will maintain that this is a caricature of the way in which the relationship of God to the world is set forth in religious treatises and from the Christian pulpit. But is it? I think I can appeal with confidence to the thoughtful man who has given up going to church as to whether it is or not. The God of the ordinary church-goer, and of the man who is supposed to teach him from study and pulpit, is an antiquated Theologian who made His universe so badly that it went wrong in spite of Him and has remained wrong ever since. Why He should ever have created it is not clear. Why He should be the injured party in all the miseries that have ensued is still less clear. The poor crippled child who has been maimed by a falling rock, and the white-faced match-box maker who works eighteen hours out of the twenty-four to keep body and soul together have surely some sort of a claim upon God apart from being miserable sinners who must account themselves fortunate to be forgiven for Christ's sake. Faugh! it is all so unreal and so stupid. This kind of God is no God at all. The theologian may call Him infinite, but in practice He is finite. He may call Him a God of love, but in practice He is spiteful and silly. I shall have something to say presently about the twin problems of pain and evil; but what so-called orthodoxy has to say is not only no solution of them, it is demonstrably false to the religion of Jesus. +Every man believes in God.+--For the moment what I want to make clear is this. No man should refuse to assert his belief in God because he cannot bring himself to believe in the God of the typical theologian. Remember that the real God is the God expressed in the universe and in yourself. The question is not whether you _shall_ believe in God, but how much you _can_ believe about Him. You may think with Haeckel that the universe is the outcome of the fortuitous interaction of material forces without consciousness and definite purpose behind them, or you may believe that the cosmos is the product of intelligence and "means intensely and means good," but you cannot help believing in God, the Power revealed in it. As I write these words I am seated before a window overlooking the heaving waste of waters on a rock-bound Cornish coast. It is a stormy day. The sky is overcast toward the western horizon; on the east shafts of blue and saffron have pierced the pall of darkness and flung their radiance over the spreading sea. The total effect is strangely solemnising. The suggestion of titanic forces conveyed in the rush of wind and wave upon the unyielding cliffs, conjoined to the majestic march of the storm-clouds across the heaven from the west, is somehow elevated and composed by the mystic light that streams from the east. I have never seen anything quite like it before. It tells me of a beneficent stillness, an eternal strength, far above and beyond these finite tossings. It whispers the word impossible to utter, the word that explains everything, the deep that calleth unto deep. So my God calls always to my deeper soul, and tells me I must read Him by mine own highest and best, and by the highest and best that the universe has yet produced. Thus the last word about God becomes the last word about man: it is Jesus. Materialists may tell me that the universe does not know what it is doing, that it goes on clanking and banging, age after age, without end or aim, but I shall continue to feel compelled to believe that the Power which produced Jesus must at least be equal to Jesus. So Jesus becomes my gateway to the innermost of God. When I look at Him I say to myself, God is _that_, and, if I can only get down to the truth about myself, I shall find I am that too. +What does the universe mean?+--But why is there a universe at all? Why has the unlimited become limited? What was the need for the long cosmic struggle, the ignorance and pain, the apparently prodigal waste of life and beauty? Why does a perfect form appear only to be shattered and superseded by another? What can it all mean, if indeed it has a meaning? This is what thinkers have been asking themselves since thought began, and I have really nothing new to say about it. What I have to say leads back through Hegelianism to the old Greek thinkers, and beyond them again to the wise men who lived and taught in the East ages before Jesus was born. It is that this finite universe of ours is one means to the self-realisation of the infinite. Supposing God to be the infinite consciousness, there are still possibilities to that consciousness which it can only know as it becomes limited. Any of my readers to whom this thought is unfamiliar have only to look at their own experience in order to see how reasonable it is. You may know yourself to be a brave man, but you will know it in a higher way if you are a soldier facing the cannon's mouth; you will know it in a still different way if you have to face the hostility and prejudice of a whole community for standing by something which you believe to be right. Perhaps you have a manly little son; he, like you, may believe in his sterling good qualities. But wait till he has gone out to fight his way in life; then you will realise what he is worth, and so will he. It is one thing to know that you are a lover of truth; it is another thing to realise it when your immediate interest and your immediate safety would bid you hedge and lie. Do not these facts of human nature and experience tell us something about God? To all eternity God is what He is and never can be other, but it will take Him to all eternity to live out all that He is. In order to manifest even to Himself the possibilities of His being God must limit that being. There is no other way in which the fullest self-realisation can be attained. Thus we get two modes of God,--the infinite, perfect, unconditioned, primordial being; and the finite, imperfect, conditioned, and limited being of which we are ourselves expressions. And yet these two are one, and the former is the guarantee that the latter shall not fail in the purpose for which it became limited. Thus to the question, Why a finite universe? I should answer, Because God wants to express what He is. His achievement here is only one of an infinite number of possibilities. "God is the perfect poet Who in creation acts His own conceptions." This is an end worthy alike of God and man. The act of creation is eternal, although the cosmos is changing every moment, for God is ceaselessly uttering Himself through higher and ever higher forms of existence. We are helping Him to do it when we are true to ourselves; or rather, which is the same thing, He is doing it in us: "The Father abiding in me doeth His works." No part of the universe has value in and for itself alone; it has value only as it expresses God. To see one form break up and another take its place is no calamity, however terrible it may seem, for it only means that the life contained in that form has gone back to the universal life, and will express itself again in some higher and better form. To think of God in this way is an inspiration and a help in the doing of the humblest tasks. It redeems life from the dominion of the sordid and commonplace. It supplies an incentive to endeavour, and fills the heart with hope and confidence. To put it in homely, everyday phraseology, God is getting at something and we must help Him. We must be His eyes and hands and feet; we must be labourers together with Him. This fits in with what science has to say about the very constitution of the universe; it is all of a piece; there are no gaps anywhere. It is a divine experiment without risk of failure, and we must interpret it in terms of our own highest. CHAPTER III MAN IN RELATION TO GOD +What is man?+--So far we have seen that the universe, including ourselves, is one instrument or vehicle of the self-expression of God. God is All; He is the universe and infinitely more, but it is only as we read Him in the universe that we can know anything about Him. We have seen, too, that it is by means of the universe and His self-limitation therein that He expresses Himself to Himself. Now what is our relation to this process? What are we to think about ourselves? Who or what are we? A witty Frenchman once sardonically remarked, "In the beginning God created man in His own image, and man has ever since been returning the compliment by creating God in his." But what else can we do? It follows from what has already been said that we know nothing and can know nothing of God except as we read Him in the universe, and we can only interpret the universe in terms of our own consciousness. In other words, man is a microcosm of the universe. What the universe may be in reality we do not know,--though I am not so sure as some people seem to be that appearance and reality do not correspond,--we can only know it in so far as it produces sense images on our brain and enters into our individual consciousness. The limits of my subject forbid that I should enter into a discussion of philosophic idealism, but I think I ought to confess at once that I can only think of existence in terms of consciousness: nothing exists except in and for mind. The mind that thinks the universe must be immeasurably greater than my own, but in so far as I too am able to think the universe, mine is one with it. All thinking starts with a paradox, even the famous saying of Descartes, "I think, therefore I am"; and my paradox seems at least as reasonable as any other, and has fewer difficulties to encounter than most. I start then with the assumption that the universe is God's thought about Himself, and that in so far as I am able to think it along with Him, "I and my Father (even metaphysically speaking) are one." It cannot be demonstrated beyond dispute that any two human beings think the same universe. Strictly speaking, it is certain that they do not in every detail. But the common dominator of our experience, intellectual, moral, and spiritual, is the assumption that in the main the universe is pretty much the same for one man as it is for another. When I speak of the rolling sea, my neighbour does not understand me to mean the waving trees, but I cannot prove that he does not. If he is consistent in seeing water as trees and trees as water, his mind must be constituted differently from mine and yet I may never know it. So, by an almost unperceived act of faith, we have to take for granted that our separate individualities meet and become one to some extent in our common experience of this great universe, which is at that same time the expression of God. The real universe must be infinitely greater and more complex than the one which is apparent to our physical senses. This becomes probable, even on material grounds, the moment we begin to examine into the nature of sense perception. The ear is constituted to hear just so many sounds; beyond that limit at either end of the scale we can hear nothing, but that does not prove that there are no more sounds to hear. Similarly the eye can distinguish five or seven primary colours and their various combinations; beyond that limit we are colour-blind. But suppose we were endowed to hear and see sounds and colours a million times greater in number than those of which we have at present any cognizance! What kind of a universe would it be then? But that universe exists now; it is around and within us; it is God's thought about Himself, infinite and eternal. It is only finite to a finite mind, and it is more than probable that spiritual beings exist with a range of consciousness far greater than our own, to whom the universe of which we form a part must seem far more beautiful and fuller of meaning than it seems to us. Imagine a man who could only see grey hues and could only hear the note A on the keyboard. His experience would be quite as real as ours, and indeed the same up to a point, but how little he would know of the world as we know it. The glory of the sunset sky would be hidden from him; for him the melting power of the human voice, or of a grand cathedral organ, would not exist. So, no doubt, it is in a different degree with us all. The so-called material world is our consciousness of reality exercising itself along a strictly limited plane. We can know just as much as we are constituted to know, and no more. But it is all a question of consciousness. The larger and fuller a consciousness becomes, the more it can grasp and hold of the consciousness of God, the fundamental reality of our being as of everything else. +The subconscious mind.+--Of late years the comparatively new science of psychology has begun to throw an amount of valuable light upon the mystery of human personality. As the result of numerous experiments and investigations into the normal and abnormal working of the human mind, psychologists have discovered that a great deal of our ordinary mental action goes on without our being aware of it. This unconscious cerebration, as it is called, can hardly be seriously disputed, for every new addition to our psychological knowledge goes to confirm it. Hence we are hearing a great deal about the subconscious mind, or subliminal consciousness as some prefer to call it. Now that our attention has been directed to it, we are coming to see, as is usual with every new discovery, that after a fashion we knew it all along. The subconscious mind seems to be the seat of inspiration and intuition. Genius, according to the late F. W. H. Myers, is "an up-rush of subliminal faculty." We have all heard of the distinguished lady novelist who declares that when she has chosen her theme she is in the habit of committing it to her subconscious mind and letting it alone for a while. She is not aware of any mental process which goes on, but sooner or later she finds that the theme is ripe for treatment; she knows what she thinks about it, and the work of stating it can profitably begin. Poets, preachers, and musicians can bear testimony of a somewhat similar kind. The thoughts which are most valuable are those which come unbidden, rising to the surface of consciousness from unknown depths. The best scientific discoveries are made in much the same way; the investigator has an intuition and forthwith sets to work to justify it. Reason, by which we ordinarily mean the conscious exercise of the mental faculties, plods along as if on four feet; intuition soars on wings. Truly astonishing things are frequently done by the subconscious mind superseding and controlling the conscious mind in exceptional states of emotion, especially in the case of people who are not quite normal; but there is no one, however stolid and commonplace, who does not owe far more to his subliminal consciousness than he does to what he calls his reason; indeed reason has comparatively little to do with the way in which people ordinarily conduct themselves, although we may like to think otherwise. Now what is this subconscious mind whose importance is so great and of whose nature we know so little? That is a question upon which psychology has not yet pronounced, but there are not a few who regard it as the real personality. Evidently it is not only deeper but larger than the surface mind which we call reason. Our discovery of its existence has taught us that our ordinary consciousness is but a tiny corner of our personality. It has been well described as an illuminated disc on a vast ocean of being; it is like an island in the Pacific which is really the summit of a mountain whose base is miles below the surface. Summit and base are one, and yet no one realises when standing on the little island that he is perched at the very top of a mountain peak. So it is with our everyday consciousness of ourselves; we find it rather difficult to realise that this consciousness is not all there is of us. And yet, when we come to examine into the facts, the conclusion seems irresistible, that of our truer, deeper being we are quite unconscious. +The higher self.+--Several important inferences follow from this position. The first is that our surface consciousness is somewhat illusory and does not possess the sharpness and definiteness of outline which we are accustomed to take for granted when thinking of ourselves. To ordinary common sense nothing seems more obvious than that we know most that is to be known about our friend John Smith, with whom we used to go to school and who has since developed into a stolid British man of business with few ideas and a tendency toward conservatism. John is a stalwart, honest, commonplace kind of person, of whom brilliant things were never prophesied and who has never been guilty of any. His wife and children go to church on Sundays. John seldom goes himself because it bores him, but he likes to know that religion is being attended to, and he does not want to hear that his clergyman is attempting any daring flights. He has a good-natured contempt for clergymen in general because he feels somehow that, like women, they have to be treated with half-fictitious reverence, but that they do not count for much in the ordinary affairs of life; they are a sort of third sex. But, according to the newer psychology, this matter-of-fact Englishman is not what he seems even to himself. His true being is vastly greater than he knows, and vastly greater than the world will ever know. It belongs not to the material plane of existence but to the plane of eternal reality. This larger self is in all probability a perfect and eternal spiritual being integral to the being of God. His surface self, his Philistine self, is the incarnation of some portion of that true eternal self which is one with God. The dividing line between the surface self and the other self is not the definite demarcation it appears to be. To the higher self it does not exist. To us it must seem that to all intents and purposes the two selves in a man are two separate beings, but that is not so; they are one, although the lower, owing to its limitations, cannot realise the fact. If my readers want to know whether I think that the higher self is conscious of the lower, I can only answer, Yes, I do, but I cannot prove it; probabilities point that way. What I want to insist upon here is that we are greater than we seem, that we have a higher self, and that our limited consciousness does not involve a separate individuality. Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting; The soul that rises with us, our life's star, Hath had elsewhere its setting, And cometh from afar. Not in entire forgetfulness, And not in utter nakedness, But trailing clouds of glory do we come From God who is our home. The great poets are the best theologians after all, for they see the farthest. The true being is consciousness; the universe, visible and invisible, is consciousness. The higher self of the individual man infolds more of the consciousness of God than the lower, but lower and higher are the same thing. This may be a difficult thought to grasp, but the time is rapidly approaching when it will be more generally accepted than it is now. +The unity of humanity.+--Another inference from the theory of the subconscious mind is that of the fundamental unity of the whole human race. Indeed all life is fundamentally one, but there is a kinship of man with man which precedes that of man with any other order of being. Here again the spiritual truth cuts across what seem to be the dictates of common sense. Common sense assumes that I and Thou are eternally distinct, and that by no possibility can the territories of our respective beings ever become one. But even now, and on mere everyday grounds, we are finding reason to think otherwise. You are about to make an observation at table and some member of your family makes it before you; you are thinking of a certain tune and someone begins to hum it; you have a certain purpose in mind and, lo, the same thought finds expression in someone else, despite all probabilities. Oh, you may remark, This is only thought transference. Precisely, but what are you except your thought? All being, remember, is conscious of being. The infinite consciousness sees itself as a whole; the finite consciousness sees the same whole in part. Ultimately your being and mine are one and we shall come to know it. Individuality only has meaning in relation to the whole, and individual consciousness can only be fulfilled by expanding until it embraces the whole. Nothing that exists in your consciousness now and constitutes your self-knowledge will ever be obliterated or ever can be, but in a higher state of existence you will realise it to be a part of the universal stock. I shall not cease to be I, nor you to be you; but there must be a region of experience where we shall find that you and I are one. +The Self is God.+--A third inference, already hinted at and presumed in all that has gone before, is that the highest of all selves, the ultimate Self of the universe, is God. The New Testament speaks of man as body, soul, and spirit. The body is the thought-form through which the individuality finds expression on our present limited plane; the soul is a man's consciousness of himself as apart from all the rest of existence and even from God--it is the bay seeing itself as the bay and not as the ocean; the spirit is the true being thus limited and expressed--it is the deathless divine within us. The soul therefore is what we make it; the spirit we can neither make nor mar, for it is at once our being and God's. What we are here to do is to grow the soul, that is to manifest the true nature of the spirit, to build up that self-realisation which is God's objective with the universe as a whole and with every self-conscious unit in particular. Where, then, someone will say, is the dividing line between our being and God's? There is no dividing line except from our side. The ocean of consciousness knows that the bay has never been separate from itself, although the bay is only conscious of the ocean on the outer side of its own being. But, the reader may protest, This is Pantheism. No, it is not. Pantheism is a technical term in philosophic parlance and means something quite different from this. It stands for a Fate-God, a God imprisoned in His universe, a God who cannot help Himself and does not even know what He is about, a blind force which here breaks out into a rock and there into Ruskin and is equally indifferent to either. But that is not my God. My God is my deeper Self and yours too; He is the Self of the universe and knows all about it. He is never baffled and cannot be baffled; the whole cosmic process is one long incarnation and uprising of the being of God from itself to itself. With Tennyson you can call this doctrine the Higher Pantheism if you like, but it is the very antithesis of the Pantheism which has played such a part in the history of thought. +Its relation to free will.+--But then, another will remonstrate, it does away with the freedom of the will. Well, here is a slippery subject sure enough, and one upon which more nonsense has been talked probably than any other within the range of philosophical or theological discussion. Have I anything new to say about it? Probably not, but I think I can focus the issue and show what we must recognise in order to have a rational grasp of the subject. Thinkers have talked too much in the past about the separate faculties of human nature as though they could be divided into Reason, Feeling, Action, and so on. But they are beginning to talk differently now. They are coming to see that a human being cannot be cut up like that. The Reason is the whole man thinking, judging, comparing. Feeling accompanies Reason and is never found apart from it, for reason implies consciousness, and without consciousness nothing that can properly be called Feeling exists. The will is simply the whole man acting. Now I will frankly confess that in strict logic I can find no place for the freedom of the will. I will defy anyone to do so if he knows much about the laws of thought. But, as the late Mr. Lecky said in his "Map of Life," and Mr. Mallock has since pointed out in "The Reconstruction of Belief," we are compelled to overleap logic when considering this matter. No argument will convince us that we have not some power of individual self-direction and self-control. The most thoroughgoing determinist that ever lived forgets his determinism even while he argues about it. It must be amusing even to himself to see how he enjoys scoring off his opponent, thus taking for granted in the heat of controversy the very freedom he sets out to deny. The assumption at the bottom of every vigorous argument is that the other party might have held other views, and ought to have held other views than those assailed. The position of the determinist in effect is this: You must believe you have no freedom to choose anything, otherwise you are to blame for choosing wrongly. Of course the consistent determinist would evade this _reductio ad absurdum_ by saying that he is as much necessitated in blaming his opponent for holding wrong views as the opponent is for refusing to give them up. He might also tell me that I am arguing for free will in an obscurantist fashion by admitting at the outset that in strict logic I can find no place for it. But I am not arguing for free will at all. I am simply showing that by the very constitution of our minds we cannot avoid taking some measure of free will for granted. Even the determinist who scouts this view and calls it absurd is by his own action a convincing demonstration of its truth. +Only the Infinite has perfect freedom.+--But this contention is something more than mere logic chopping. It points to a truth too high for a finite mind to grasp, namely, that whatever our moral freedom may be, it must consist with the all-directing universal will. There is no such thing as perfect freedom in a finite being. Perfect freedom belongs only to infinity; finiteness implies limitations. Popular theology usually assumes, or appears to assume, that every individual is a perfectly free agent able at all times to distinguish and to choose between the higher and the lower, and as liable to choose the one as the other. There is another kind of theologising, of course, which speaks of the weakened or corrupted will due to our fallen nature, that I must let alone for the present. What I want to point out is that there is not, and never has been, an act of the will in which a man, without bias in either direction, has deliberately chosen evil in the presence of good. Under such circumstances no being in his sober senses would ever choose evil; enlightened self-interest alone would forbid the possibility of such a choice. Freedom of the will in this sense has never existed. The truth is that we should not be conscious of the possession of a will but for the conflict between desire and duty, or the necessity of choosing between one impulse and another. After all, the moral choices of life are but few in number. The things we go on doing day by day are the things that for the most part we know we must do, and we scarcely reflect upon the matter. When some question emerges which demands a moral choice we know it at once by the fact that we have to take our limitations into account. Something has to be overcome if the higher is chosen, and, without that overcoming, there is no real assertion of the will. It is no heroism in me to avoid getting drunk, but it may mean a tremendous assertion of the moral reserves in some poor fellow who knows the power of the drink craving. The same observation holds good of all human life. My weak points are not my neighbour's, and his are not mine. Neither of us is in a position to estimate the other's strength of will, but we both know that in our own case an absolutely unfettered moral choice has never been made. But for our limitations and imperfections we should know nothing whatever of the choice between right and wrong. Free will, in the sense of unlimited freedom of choice, does not exist. The only freedom we possess is like that of a bird in a cage; we can choose between the higher and the lower standing ground, a choice called for by the very fact that we are in prison, but we cannot choose where the cage shall go. No doubt these considerations will meet with the disapproval of some people who think themselves orthodox. They will object to being told that every man has a higher self than that of which he is immediately conscious; that fundamentally the individual is one with the whole race and with God; that no one possesses absolute free will. To them it may seem an absurdity to maintain these positions. But if they say so, they will convict themselves of absurdity, for, with the exception of the last, Christian doctrine already affirms them all of Jesus. According to the received theology, Jesus was God, and yet He did not possess the all-controlling consciousness of the universe. He was also man, and yet He was before all ages. All creation proceeds from and centres in Him, and yet He was able to limit Himself in such a degree as to be ignorant of much that was going on in His own universe. If so-called orthodoxy finds it no difficulty to assert these things as being true of Jesus, it will not find it easy to show good reason why the same should not be true of all humanity. For the moment I neither assert nor deny the uniqueness of Jesus. All I am concerned to show is that if it is not intellectually _impossible_ to affirm certain things about the consciousness of Jesus and the limitation of His true being in His earthly life, it is not impossible to affirm them of mankind. Some of my critics have contended that this view of the relationship of man to God hails not from Palestine but from Oxford and is an outcome of the philosophy of T. H. Green. But I think it can be shown that its pedigree is considerably longer than that. Whether it hails from Palestine or not, it is explicitly stated in the fourth gospel: "He that hath seen me hath seen the Father; and how sayest thou then, Shew us the Father? Believest thou not that I am in the Father, and the Father in me? The words that I speak unto you I speak not of myself: but the Father that dwelleth in me, He doeth the works. Believe me that I am in the Father, and the Father in me." Those who object to my statement of the fundamental identity of God and man will have to explain away such passages as this, and there are plenty of them. But, it may be urged, this is meant to apply only to Jesus. That I do not believe; I think the exceedingly able writer of the fourth gospel knew better; but for the moment I will not contest the point. Granted that it does apply only to Jesus, what then? The very things which the critics declare to be impossible of personality in general in relation to God, they are affirming already of at least one personality, that of Jesus. If Jesus was God and yet prayed to God, if His consciousness was finite and yet one with the infinite, it is clear that in this one instance the seemingly impossible was not impossible. Those who insist upon the fundamental distinction between human personality and the being of God are thus on the horns of a dilemma. Present-day orthodoxy cannot consistently attack this position. The only telling criticism that can be directed against it is that which proceeds from the side of scientific monism. A thoroughgoing monist might reasonably contend that up to a certain point I have been arguing for a monistic view of the universe, in company with practically the whole scientific world, and have then given the case away by admitting a certain amount of individual freedom. I confess it looks like it; I have had to face the antinomy. I see that there is no escape from the assertion of the fundamental unity of all existence, and yet by the very constitution of the human mind we are compelled to take for granted a certain amount of individual initiative and self-direction. I think of the human will much as I do about the mariner's compass. It is well known that the needle does not always point steadily and consistently to the pole; its tiny aberrations have to be taken into account. But these are no real hindrance to the sailing of the ship, and the compass itself cannot run away. Again, some of my friends have been pointing out that, while the New Theology regards all mankind as "Being of one substance with the Father," our consciousness of that being is our own. I freely admit this while maintaining that there is no substance but consciousness. What other kind of substance can there be? Therefore I hold that when our finite consciousness ceases to be finite there will be no distinction whatever between ours and God's. The distinction between finite and infinite is not eternal. The being of God is a complex unity, containing within itself and harmonising every form of self-consciousness that can possibly exist. No one need be afraid that in believing this he is assenting to the final obliteration of his own personality; if such obliteration were possible, our present personality could possess no permanent value even for God. No form of self-consciousness can ever perish. It completes itself in becoming infinite, but it cannot be destroyed. CHAPTER IV THE NATURE OF EVIL +The problem not insoluble.+--Before going on to say more about human personality, especially the personality of Jesus, it is requisite that we should determine our attitude toward a great question which in manifold forms has beset the human intellect ever since the dawn of history, namely, the problem of evil. It is still the fashion to declare this problem insoluble, but I have the audacity to believe that it is not so; mystery there may be, but it is not chiefly mystery. I will even go so far as to assert that the problem had been solved in human thought before Christianity began. What I have to say about it now is ancient thinking confirmed by present-day experience. Evil is a negative, not a positive term. It denotes the absence rather than the presence of something. It is the perceived privation of good, the shadow where the light ought to be. "The devil is a vacuum," as a friend of mine once remarked to the no small bewilderment of a group of listeners in whose imagination the devil was anything but a vacuum. Evil is not an intruder in an otherwise perfect universe; finiteness presumes it. A thing is only seen to be evil when the capacity for good is present and unsatisfied. Evil is not a principle at war with good. Good is being and evil is not-being. When consciousness of being seeks further expression and finds itself hindered by its limitations, it becomes aware of evil. A little reflection ought to convince anyone that this is the true way to look at the question of evil. Instead of asking how evil came to be in the universe, we should recognise that nothing finite can exist without it. Infinity alone can know nothing of evil because its resources are illimitable and--if I may be permitted the expression--every need is supplied before it can be felt. Evil and good are not like two armies in deadly conflict with each other for the possession of the city of God. We ought not to say that when one is in the other is out, but rather when one _is_ the other is _not_. The very word "good" implies evil. One is positive and the other negative. Good only emerges in our experience in contrast with evil, and the ideal existence must be that in which good and evil are both transcended in the life eternal, when struggle and conflict are no more. In our present state of existence evil is necessary in order that we may know that there is such a thing as good, and therefore that we may realise the true nature of the life eternal. Look at that shadow on the pavement cast by the row of houses between your vision and the rising sun. Until the sun made his presence felt, you did not even know there was a shadow. Presently as the light giver climbs beyond and above this temporary barrier you will watch the shadow shrink and disappear. Where has it gone? If it were an entity in itself, it would have moved off somewhere else, but you are well aware that it has not done so, for it never had any real existence; real as it seemed, so real that you were able to give it a name, it never did more than show the place that needed to be filled with light. When the light came the shadow was swallowed up. So it is with every kind of evil, no matter what. Your perception of evil is the concomitant of your expanding finite consciousness of good. The moment you see a thing to be wrong you have affirmed that you know, however vaguely, what is required to put it right. Even when evil comes in the form of a calamity that lessens and diminishes your previous experience of good, as in an earthquake or a pestilence, this statement as to its true nature is in no way invalidated. It is not a thing in itself, it is only the perceived privation of what you know to be good, and which you know to be good because of the very presence of limitation, hindrance, and imperfection. +The relation of evil and pain.+--But to most minds evil is almost synonymous with pain, at any rate in our experience it is associated with pain. When men begin questioning the goodness of God because of the evil of the world, they usually mean the pain of the world. Perhaps their thought about sin is to some extent an exception; sin and pain are not necessarily immediately associated in the theological mind. But what is pain? Properly speaking it is not in itself evil, but rather the evidence of evil, and also in a different way the evidence of good. Pain is life asserting itself against death, the higher struggling with the lower, the true with the false, the real with the unreal. When a baby cries for food he does so in unconscious obedience to the law of life; a stone does not cry for food. When a strong man suffers in the grip of a fell disease, the life within him is fighting for expression against something that seems to be extinguishing it. The suffering is caused by the effort of the life to retain its hold on the form, and yet if the disease succeeds in breaking the form it has only released the life to find expression in some higher form. When a guilty man suffers the tortures of remorse, it means that the truth within him is declaring itself against the falsehood, although it does not follow that it will immediately conquer. This is what pain is: it is life pressing upon death, and death resisting life. If a traveller falls asleep in the snow, or a sailor is nearly drowned, the process of recovery is always painful because the returning life has to overcome death. Carry the same principle through the whole range of human experience, physical, mental, and moral, and it will indicate the real significance of all the pain which has ever been endured or ever will be endured by mankind. Still this would not satisfy everyone who feels compassion for cosmic suffering. Professor Huxley has told us that there is no sadder story than the story of sentient life upon this planet, and in so saying he has the testimony of modern science behind him. A vast amount of attention has been directed to this phase of the subject within the past fifty years. We seem to be more sensitive to the presence of pain as well as more sympathetic than our fathers were, and this tendency shows itself in a recognition of the solidarity of humanity with the lower creation. Theology has had practically nothing to say about the suffering or even about the significance of the myriad forms of life which exist below the human scale. But why ought they to be ignored? Indeed, how can they be ignored? The theology that has nothing to say about my clever and loyal four-footed companion, with his magnanimity, his sensitive spirit, and even his moral qualities, omits something of considerable importance to a thorough and consistent world-view. "Not a sparrow falleth to the ground without your Father," said one who spake as never man spake. I think it was Schopenhauer who once remarked, "The more I see of human nature the more I respect my dog." Now the New Theology finds no difficulty in recognising the importance of the brute creation, for it believes in a practical recognition of the solidarity of all existence. There is no life that is not of God, and therefore no life can ever perish, whatever may become of the form. If we can explain human suffering, the same explanation covers the suffering of all sub-human life. +The true extent of the problem of pain.+--But the problem is not so large as it looks. When we hear of a terrible event like the Jamaica disaster, we are apt to jump to the conclusion that the amount of suffering in the world is specially and enormously greater because of it. But that is not so. Our standard of measurement is a false one. The amount of pain endured depends upon the consciousness enduring it and upon its capacity for looking before and after. Besides we only suffer individually, and therefore all the pain of the world is comprised within the experience of the being who suffers most, whoever that may be. We ought to estimate the actual amount of cosmic suffering by the intensity of the suffering borne by any one individual at any one time. We are not immediately conscious of all the woe of the universe; we are each of us conscious of our own, even though it may be caused by sympathy with others; and the world's woe taken as a whole is not greater than the amount borne by him whose consciousness of it is greatest. This is what we may call the intensive as contrasted with the extensive observation of the problem of pain. It is a kind of barometrical measurement. We do not gauge the weather by adding together the figures of all the storm-glasses in the world; the rise or fall of the mercury in any one of them, especially the best one among them, comprehends the whole. Here is the problem of pain in a nutshell. The whole appalling tale of cosmic suffering can be compressed within the limits of the individual consciousness which has endured the most. +The purpose of pain.+--Nor is there the slightest need to be afraid of it. Theologians may tell us that we should never have known anything about it but for man's first disobedience, and humanists may maintain that it is impossible to reconcile it with belief in the goodness of God; but they are both wrong. There are some things impossible even to omnipotence, and one of them is the realisation of a love which has never known pain. If creation is the self-expression of God, pain was inevitable from the first. For what is the nature of God? According to the Christian religion it is love. And what is love? Here is another slippery word which has had some contradictory connotations in the course of its history. Some time ago Mr. G. Bernard Shaw delivered a lecture at the City Temple on the "Religion of the British Empire," in the course of which he said that, if I knew as much about stage-plays as he did, I should distrust the word "love," for it was bound up with an amount of false and gusty sentiment. He himself preferred the word "life" to express what I meant by the word "love." But love is too good a word to be given over to the sentimentalists, although Mr. Shaw was perfectly right as to the way in which it has been misused. Love _is_ life, the life eternal, the life of God. Jesus and His New Testament followers used both terms as expressive of the innermost of God. The life of God is such that in the presence of need it must give itself just as water will run down hill; this is the law of its being. Where no need exists, that is, where life is infinite, love finds no expression. To realise itself for what it is, sacrifice, that is self-limitation, becomes necessary. Love is essentially self-giving. It is the living of the individual life in terms of the whole. In a finite world this cannot but mean pain, but it is also self-fulfilment. "Whosoever shall save his life shall lose it, but whosoever will lose his life shall find it." This profound saying of Jesus is older even than Jesus; it is the law of God's own being, the law of love, the means to the realisation of the life eternal. It is so plain and simple, and withal so sublime, that we cannot but see it to be true, and can do no other than bow before it. The law of the universe is the law of sacrifice in order to self-manifestation. In this age-long process all sentient life has its part, for it is of the infinite, and to the infinite it will return. When, therefore, you feel compassion for the rabbit which is being killed by the weasel, or the stag that falls before the hounds, you can remember at the same time that this is not meaningless cruelty, but the operation of the same law that governs the highest activities of your own soul. You are right to feel the compassion; you were meant to feel it; and there is good reason why you should, for the suffering is real enough to awaken it. But do not forget that the suffering is not quite what it appears to you; it is only yours as it enters into your own consciousness and you suffer along with the actual victim. Compassion in such a case is the initial impulse toward self-offering, the desire to take the victim's place. But the suffering of the rabbit or the stag is to be measured by the consciousness of the rabbit or the stag, not by yours. In the slaughter nothing perishes but the form, the life returns to the Soul of the universe. +The nature of sin.+--What, then, is sin? In the light of the foregoing considerations that question should not be difficult to answer. Some of my recent critics have been declaring that I deny the existence of sin, and am teaching that as there is no sin there is no need for Atonement. This looks like wilful misrepresentation, for my words on the subject have been clear enough and I have nothing to un-say, but perhaps it would be better to allow that the critics have made the mistake of rushing into print without carefully examining the utterances which they denounce. Let me say, then, that sin is the opposite of love. All possible activities of the soul are between two poles,--self on the one hand and the common life on the other. Everything we can think or say or do is in one or other of these directions; we are either living for the self at the expense of the whole, or we are fulfilling the self by serving the whole. Sin is therefore selfishness. If the true life is the life which is lived in terms of the whole, then the sinful life is the life which is lived for self alone. No man, however depraved, succeeds in living the selfish life all the time; if he did he would sink below the level of the brutes. Sin makes for death; love makes for life. Sin is self-ward; love is All-ward. Sin is always a blunder; in the long run it becomes its own punishment, for it is the soul imposing fetters upon itself, which fetters must be broken by the reassertion of the universal life. Sin is actually a quest for life, but a quest which is pursued in the wrong way. The man who is living a selfish life must think, if he thinks about it at all, that he can gratify himself in that way, that is, he can get more abundant life. But in this he is mistaken; he is trying to cut himself off from the source of life. He is like a man seated on the branch of a tree and sawing it off from the trunk. But when theologians talk of the wrath of God against sin, and the wrong which sin has inflicted upon God, they employ figures of speech which are distinctly misleading. In fact, they do not seem to have a clear idea as to what sin really is. They use vague language about it as though it were some kind of corporate offence against God of which the whole race has been guilty without being able to help it, and which no individual can escape although he is as much to blame as if he could. But sin has never injured God except through man. It is the God within who is injured by it rather than the God without. It is time we had done with the unreal language about the Judge on the great white throne, whose justice must be satisfied before His mercy can operate. The figure contains a truth which everyone knows well enough, but it is not easy to recognise it under this form. +The Fall.+--The theological muddle is largely caused by the inability of many people to free themselves from archaic notions which have really nothing to do with Christianity, although they have been imported into it. The principal of these, in relation to the question of sin, is the doctrine of the Fall. This doctrine has played a mischievous part in Christian thought, more especially perhaps since the Reformation. In broad outline it is as follows: Man was created originally innocent and pure,--for what reason is not quite clear, but it is said to be for the glory of God,--but by an act of disobedience to a divine command he fell from his high estate and in his fall dragged down the whole creation and blighted posterity. Things have been wrong ever since, and God has been angry not only with the original transgressor but with all his descendants. God is a God of righteousness and therefore in a future world He will torture every human being who dies without availing himself of a certain "plan of salvation" designed to give him a chance of escape. This is a queer sort of righteousness! The plan of salvation consists in sending His own Son--a Son who has existed eternally, which the rest of us have not--to live a few years on earth and go through a certain programme ending with a violent death. In consideration of this death, God undertakes to forgive His erring children, who could not help being sinners, and yet are just as much to blame as if they could, but only on consideration that they "believe" in time to flee from the wrath to come. If they happen to die half a minute too late, repentance will be of no avail. Dogmatic theologians must really excuse me for paraphrasing their words in this way. I know they do not put the case with such irritating clearness, but this is what they mean. Their forefathers used to put it plainly enough. Turn up John Knox's "Confession of Faith," for instance, and it will be found that my statement of the case is mildness itself compared to his; John saw no necessity for mincing matters. It may be contended that no orthodox theologian of any repute now believes in an actual historical fall of the race. Perhaps not, but theological writers go on using language which implies it and so do preachers of the gospel. I do not mean that they are dishonest, but they cannot get their perspective right. They think that by giving up belief in a historical fall of the race they would have to give up a great deal more. Without the Fall they do not know what to say about sin, salvation, the Atonement, etc. They are mistaken in this supposition, as I trust I have already shown to some extent when discussing the question of sin, and as I shall hope to show more clearly still when we come to deal with the Atonement. What I now wish to insist upon is that it is absolutely impossible for any intelligent man to continue to believe in the Fall as it is literally understood and taught. +The Genesis account.+--It is popularly supposed that the doctrine is derived from the book of Genesis, but that is hardly the case. No doubt the Genesis myth about Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden forms the background of it, but it is not consonant with the doctrine itself. The Genesis narrative says nothing about the ruined creation or the curse upon posterity. There is no hint of individual immortality, much less of heaven and hell; no Christ, no cross, no future judgment, no vicarious Atonement. It is a composite primitive story. A careful examination of its constituents will show that more than one account of the event has been drawn upon to supply materials for the narrative as it now stands. The legend was in existence as oral tradition ages before it became literature. How old it may be we have no means of knowing with certainty, but the parallel stories in other Semitic religions are of great antiquity and had originally no ethical significance whatever. The Genesis story of the Fall exercised no influence upon Old Testament religion; it is scarcely alluded to in the best Old Testament writings, some of them earlier probably than the Genesis account itself. It was not until after the great captivity that it showed any tendency toward becoming an article of faith. At the time when Jesus was born it had passed into the popular Jewish religion. There is a psychological reason for the gradual transformation of a primitive legend into a religious dogma. The Jewish nation has fallen upon evil days. For generations after the great captivity they had been ground under the heel of a succession of foreign masters. Under the cruel rule of Antiochus Epiphanes, about the middle of the second century B.C., their very religion seemed likely to be crushed out by merciless persecution. It was no wonder that the serious minds of the day became inclined to look upon the present as being but the ruin of the past, the sorry remainder of what had once been an ideal world. This tendency showed itself in various ways, the chief of which was a looking back to the great days of David and Solomon as the period of Israel's brightest splendour and prosperity. Of this I must say a little more presently when we come to consider the genesis of the idea of the kingdom of God. Another way in which the same tendency showed itself was that of taking the legend of the Fall more or less literally. A suffering generation could hardly help thinking of their woes as being the result of some primitive act of transgression. This is the way in which the rabbis came to speak of the Fall as being an actual fact of religious and ethical importance. +The doctrine transferred to Christianity.+--A similar set of political and social conditions carried the doctrine over into Christianity, chiefly through the influence of the apostle Paul who had received a rabbinical training. Not only Hebrews but Greeks had begun to feel that the world was decaying and perhaps nearing the end. They idealised the past and contrasted it with the present. All civilisation lay under the dominion of Rome, and Rome herself was subject to a military dictator. The heart of the world-wide empire was a hotbed of corruption where every form of vice took root and flourished. The Greek thinkers and scholars despised their masters, but their own heroic days were gone and they were helpless to cast off the yoke. They had no Pericles now, no Leonidas, no Miltiades. Gone were the men of Thermopylae, Marathon, and Salamis. These were lesser, darker days. With a sure instinct men were ceasing to feel any confidence in the future of this pagan civilisation. It had its great elements, but the signs of disruption were already apparent and no one could foresee what would take its place. The mood of the time is reflected in the pages of Tacitus and Juvenal. Into this atmosphere came Christianity with its doctrine of the holy love of God and its adoring faith in Jesus. But both Judaism and Hellenism had already the tendency to look back toward a better and happier time and to think of the present as a fall from it. Paul felt this like everyone else, and forthwith took some kind of a fall for granted when unfolding his system of thought. It is doubtful whether he took the Genesis story literally or not, and he certainly made Adam the type of the unideal or earthly man who had become estranged from God. He was too great a man to be pinned down to mere literalism in a question of this kind, so in his use of the terms supplied by the rabbinical version of the legend he glides easily into the statement of the obvious truth that the Adam, or lower man, or earthly principle in every human being, needs to be transformed by the uprising of the Christ or ideal man, within the soul. "For as in Adam all die, even so in Christ shall all be made alive." "The first man is of the earth earthy: the second man is the Lord from heaven." Here, then, we have the origins of the doctrine of the Fall. Right through Christian history the tendency has run to look upon the world as the ruins of a divine plan marred by man's perversity and self-will. It is time we got rid of it, for it has had a blighting, deadening influence upon hopeful endeavour for the good of the race. It is not integral to Christianity, for Jesus never said a word about it and did not even allude to it indirectly. It implies a view of the nature and dealings of God with men which is unethical and untrue. Surely, if God knew beforehand that the world would go wrong, the blame for catastrophe was not all man's. If He were so baffled and horror-stricken by the results as the dogmatic theologian makes out, He ought to have been more careful about the way He did His work at the beginning; a world which went wrong so early and so easily was anything but "very good," although He pronounced it to be so according to the Genesis writer. Besides, why should a trivial act of transgression have sent it all wrong? We take leave of our common sense when we talk Of man's first disobedience and the fruit Of that forbidden tree. To be sure Milton did not believe it himself when he wrote that line, but his Puritan associates and Catholic ancestors did, and orthodoxy professes to do so still, though it does not know quite how to put it without falling into absurdity. Again, why should God feel Himself so much aggrieved by Adam's peccadillo? If it were not for the theological atmosphere which surrounds the question, we should see at once that it was ridiculous. Why should the consequences continue through countless generations? Remember this was supposed to be the very start of humanity's career. What a dreary, hopeless outlook was left to it! The notion is incredible, and most of the clear-headed men who hold it would scout it without discussion if they heard of it now for the first time. As it is, however, they go on talking of the "awful holiness" of God, the offence against the divine majesty, and so on. But what is this divine holiness? I can well remember that as a child I used to tremble at the thought of it, for somehow, like a good many other people, I had been taught to think of the divine holiness as synonymous with merciless inflexibility. But holiness, righteousness, justice, mercy, love, are but different expressions of the same spiritual reality. One might go on multiplying these considerations for ever, but there is no need to do so. Sufficient has been said to demonstrate the fact that the doctrine of the Fall is an absurdity from the point of view both of ethical consistency and common sense. +Science and the Fall.+--After this it is almost superfluous to point out that modern science knows nothing of it and can find no trace of such a cataclysm in human history. On the contrary, it asserts that there has been a gradual and unmistakable rise; the law of evolution governs human affairs just as it does every other part of the cosmic process. This statement is quite consistent with the admission that there have been periods of retrogression as well as of advance, and that the advance itself has not been steady and uniform from first to last; there have been long stretches of history during which humanity has seemed to mark time and then a sudden outburst of intellectual activity and moral achievement. It could hardly be maintained, for instance, that the Athens of Socrates was not superior to the France of Fulk the black of Anjou, or that the Assyria of Asshur-bani-pal was not quite as civilised as the Germany of the ninth century A.D. Alfred Russel Wallace has shown in his popular book, "The Wonderful Century," that the latter half of the nineteenth century witnessed a greater advance in man's power over nature than the fifteen hundred years preceding it. There are some people who maintain that while the material advance is unquestionable, the intellectual advance is on the whole more doubtful, and that, morally speaking, human nature is no different from what it ever was. But I do not think any serious historian would say this. Intellectually, the average man may still be inferior to Plato,--though even Plato did not understand the need for exact thought as modern philosophers do,--but civilisation as a whole has produced a higher level of intellectual attainment than had been reached by Plato's world. A civilisation in which four-fifths of the people were helots kept in ignorance in order that an aristocratic few might enjoy the benefits of culture was not equal to ours, great and glaring as the defects of ours may be. Again, while it is only too sadly true that modern civilisation contains plenty of callous selfishness, gross injustice, and abominable cruelty, it can hardly be denied that these relics of our brute ancestry are universally deplored, and that society recognises them to be inimical to its well-being and seeks to get rid of them. Thank God, as Anthony Trollope said, that bad as men are to-day they are not as men were in the days of the Caesars. If the New Theology controversy had arisen a few hundred years ago, theological disputants would not have wasted time in writing newspaper articles; they would have met in solemn conclave and condemned the heretic to be flayed alive or hung over a slow fire or treated in some similarly convincing manner. Of course it is remotely possible that some of them would like to do it now, but public opinion would not let them; things have changed, and the change is in the direction of a higher general morality. If any man feels pessimistic about the present, let him study the past and he will feel reassured. Those who maintain that society is not morally better but only more sentimental, beg the question. What they call sentimentalism is greater sensibility, greater sympathy, a keener sense of justice. What is the moral ideal but love? Every advance in the direction of universal love and brotherhood is a moral advance. The sternness of Stoicism or Puritanism was an imperfect morality. The grandeur and impressiveness of it were due to the fact that Stoics and Puritans for the most part took their ideal seriously; they aimed at something high and dedicated their lives to it. This dedication of the life to something higher than self-interest is of the very essence of true morality, and its highest reach is perfect love. We are a long way from that yet, although the ideal was manifested two thousand years ago. The average man to-day is certainly not nobler than the apostle Paul, nor does he see more deeply into the true meaning of life than did John the divine, but the general level is higher. Slowly, very slowly, with every now and then a depressing set-back, the race is climbing the steep ascent toward the ideal of universal brotherhood. It is sometimes maintained by thinkers who account themselves progressive that the law of evolution holds good of mankind so far as our physical constitution is concerned, but that a special act of creation took place as soon as the physical frame was sufficiently developed to become the receptacle of a higher principle, and that then, and not till then, "man became a living soul." But it is impossible to square the circle in this way, and to contrive to get the doctrine of the Fall in by the back door, so to speak. The idea in the minds of those who hold this view appears to be that the tenant of the body which had been so long in preparation was a simple but intelligent and morally innocent personality who forthwith proceeded to do all that Adam is credited with and therefore spoiled what would otherwise have been a harmonious and orderly development; what we now see is not evolution as God meant it, but evolution perverted by human wrong-headedness. But this theory contains more difficulties than the older one it aims to replace. It makes God even more incompetent then the traditional view does. For untold ages, apparently, He has been preparing the world for the advent of humanity, only to find that the moment humanity enters it the whole scheme is spoiled. But we need not seriously consider this view; the facts are overwhelmingly against it. The history, even of the most recent civilisations, is, comparatively speaking, only as old as yesterday, whereas the presence of human life on this planet is traceable into the almost illimitable past. But the farther we go back in our investigation of human origins the less possible does it appear that the primitive man of theological tradition has ever existed. The Adam of the dogmatic theologian is like the economic man of the older school of writers on political science, the man who always wants to buy in the cheapest market and sell in the dearest, and whose one consistent endeavour is to seek pleasure and avoid pain; he has never existed. +Divine immanence and its Fall.+--Besides, we do not want him to exist. The Fall theory is not only impossible in face of the findings of modern science; it is a real hindrance to religion. So far from having to give it up because science would have nothing to say to it, the difficulty would be to retain it and yet have anything like a rational view of the relation of God and the world. It has already been stated that the starting-point of the New Theology is a recognition of the truth that God is expressing Himself through His world. This truth occupied a place in religious thought ages before modern science was thought of; science has confirmed it, but has not compelled us to think it; if science had never existed, it would still remain the only reasonable ground for an adequate explanation of the relation of man to the universe. It simplifies all our questionings and coördinates all our activities. There is not a single one in the whole vast range of human interests which it does not cover. There is nothing which humanity can do or seek to do which is not immediately dependent upon it. The grandest task and the lowliest are both implied in it. It declares the common basis of religion and morality. Religion is the response of human nature to the whole of things considered as an order; morality is the living of the individual life in such a way as to be and do the most for humanity as a whole; it is making the most of one's self for the sake of the whole. Morality is not self-immolation. To jump off London Bridge would be self-immolation, but it would not be an act conducive to the welfare of the community; it might indeed be a very selfish and cowardly act. True morality involves the duty of self-formation and the exercise of judgment and self-discipline in order that the individual life may become as great a gift as possible to the common life. It will therefore be seen at once that there is a vital relation between morality and religion; the one implies the other even though the fact may not always be recognised, and both are based upon the immanence of God. +The truth beneath the doctrine of the Fall.+--But never yet has a particular doctrine or mode of stating truth held its own for any length of time in human history unless there was some genuine truth beneath it, and the doctrine of the Fall is no exception. It does contain a truth, a truth which can be stated in a few words, and which might be inferred from what has already been said about the relationship of man and God. The coming of a finite creation into being is itself of the nature of a fall, a coming down from perfection to imperfection. We have seen the reason for that coming down; it is that the universal life may realise its own nature by attenuating or limiting its perfection. If I want to understand the composition of the ordinary pure white ray, I take a prism and break it up into its constituents. This is just what God has been doing in creation. Our present consciousness of ourselves and of the world can reasonably be accounted a fall, for we came from the infinite and unto the infinite perfection we shall in the end return. I do not mean that our present consciousness of ourselves is eternal; I only assert that our true being is eternally one with the being of God and that to be separated from a full knowledge of that truth is to have undergone a fall. But this fall has no sinister antecedents; its purpose is good, and there is nothing to mourn over except our own slowness at getting into line with the cosmic purpose. Another way of describing it would be to call it the incarnation of God in nature and man, a subject about which I must say more in another chapter. This view of the meaning and significance of the Fall can be traced in all great religious literature. Perhaps one of the best statements of it that has ever been made is the one set forth by Paul of Tarsus in the eighth chapter of his letter to the Romans: "For I reckon that the sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory which shall be revealed in us. For the earnest expectation of the creature waiteth for the manifestation of the sons of God. For the creature was made subject to vanity, not willingly, but by the reason of him who hath subjected the same in hope, because the creature itself also shall be delivered from the bondage of corruption into the glorious liberty of the children of God. For we know that the whole creation groaneth and travaileth in pain together until now." Passages like this make it impossible to believe that Paul was ever really tied down to the literal rabbinical view of Adam's transgression and its consequences; and these words are a clear statement of the truth that the imperfection of the finite Creation is not man's fault but God's will, and is a means toward a great end. CHAPTER V JESUS THE DIVINE MAN +The centrality of Jesus.+--All that has been said hitherto is but a preparation for the discussion of the greatest subject that at present occupies the field of faith and morals, that of the personality of Jesus and His significance for mankind. It has been repeatedly pointed out both by friends and foes of the New Theology that the ultimate question for the Christian religion is that of the place occupied by its Founder. Who or what was Jesus? How much can we really know about Him? What value does He possess for the religious consciousness to-day? All other questions about the Christian religion are of minor importance compared with these, and if we are prepared with an answer to these we have by implication answered all the rest. Christianity is in a special sense immediately dependent upon its Founder. No other religion has ever regarded its founder as Christians regard their Master. Christianity draws its sustenance from the belief that Jesus is still alive and impacting Himself upon the world through His followers. Other great religions trace their origin to the teaching and example of some exceptional person; Christianity does the same, but with the added conviction that Jesus is as much in the world as ever and that His presence is realised in the mystic union between Himself and those who know and love Him. If this be true, it is a fact of the very highest importance and one which can neither be passed over nor relegated to a subordinate position. Christianity without Jesus is the world without the sun. If, as I readily admit, the great question for religion in the immediate future is that of the person of Jesus, the sooner we address ourselves to it the better. Before discussing what theology has to say of Him let us note in general terms what the civilised world is saying, theology or no theology. I suppose the most out-and-out materialist would admit that in the western world the name of Jesus exercises an influence to which no other is even remotely comparable. Perhaps he would even go so far as to admit that there is no name anywhere which means so much to those who hear it. It is not merely that the strongest civilisation on earth reverences that name, but that there is no other civilisation which can produce a parallel to it. The nearest approach to it is that of Gautama, and I think it would be generally admitted that the influence even of this mighty and beautiful spirit has never possessed the immediacy, intensity, and personal value which distinguish that of Jesus. It might be maintained with some show of reason that the civilisation of Christendom, although it is now being copied by non-Christian communities such as Japan, is not necessarily the highest because it happens to be the strongest, and that it is even regarded with contempt by the best representatives of some more ancient faiths. Still that is not quite the point. The point is that the name of Jesus, which stands for a moral ideal which is the very negation of materialism, commands a reverence, and indeed a worship, the like of which no other has ever received in the history of mankind. It is no use trying to place Jesus in a row along with other religious masters. He is first and the rest nowhere; we have no category for Him. I am not trying to prove the impossible, namely, that Christianity is the only true religion and the rest are all false. We shall get on better when that kind of nonsense ceases to be spoken. All I am concerned to emphasise is that somehow Jesus seems to sum up and focus the religious ideal for mankind. His influence for good is greater than that of all the masters of men put together, and still goes on increasing. It is a notable fact that although churches and creeds are losing their hold upon the modern mind, the name of Jesus is held in greater regard than ever. We have heard of a meeting of workmen cheering Jesus and hissing the churches. In our day most people are agreed that in Jesus we have the most perfect life ever exhibited to humanity. It is not only Christians who take this view; everyone, or nearly everyone, does so. Some years ago a book was published which bore on the title-page the question, "What would Jesus do?" The book was not very well written, and I do not think the writer would have claimed that it contained anything original, but it had an enormous sale simply because of its attempt to answer the question on the covers. The most unlikely people bought and read it, people who never went to church and would not dream of doing so. From indications such as these one is justified in asserting that our western civilisation has accepted as true that, no matter who Jesus was, His character represents the highest standard for human attainment. In seeking moral excellence the individual and the race are thus moving toward an ideal already manifested in history. The most effective taunt that can be levelled at inconsistent Christians is that they are unlike their Master. Criticisms of the character of Jesus are now few in number, and usually take the form of declaring that it is impracticable or impossible, not that it is undesirable or imperfect. Some, no doubt, would maintain that perhaps the real Jesus did not answer to the ideal which Christians have formed of Him, but that is another question. Here we are now face to face with the unescapable fact that the greatest moral and religious force in the world is embodied in the name of Jesus, and this by general consent. +The Jesus of traditional theology.+--But what has traditional Christian theology to say about Jesus? Here we enter a region in which the ordinary man of the world does not live and is never likely to live, but we cannot afford to ignore it. According to the received theology, Jesus was and is God and man in a sense in which no one else ever has been or ever will be. As the shorter catechism has it, following the language of the ancient creeds, "There are three persons in one God, the same in substance, equal in power and glory," and Jesus is the second of the three. This kind of statement cannot but be confusing to the ordinary mind of to-day if only because the word "person" does not mean to us quite the same thing that it meant to the framers of the ancient creeds. Strange as it may seem to some of my readers, I believe what the creeds say about the person of Jesus, but I believe it in a way that puts no gulf between Him and the rest of the human race. This, I trust, will become clearer as we proceed; it seems to me to be implied in any real belief concerning the immanence of God. I think even the Athanasian creed is a magnificent piece of work if only the churches would consent to understand it in terms of the oldest theology of all! But, according to conventional theology, the second person in the Trinity, who was coequal and coeternal with God the Father, laid aside His glory, became incarnate for our salvation, was born of a virgin, lived a brief suffering life, wrought many miracles, died a shameful death, rose again from the tomb on the second morning after He had been laid in it, and ascended into heaven in full view of His wondering disciples. In fulfilment of a promise made by Him shortly before the crucifixion, and repeated before the ascension, He and the Father conjointly sent the third person in the Trinity to endue with power from on high the simple men whose duty it now became to proclaim the gospel of salvation to the world. Jesus is now on the throne of His glory, but sooner or later He will come again to wind up the present dispensation and to be the Judge of the quick and the dead at a grand assize. There is a sense in which all this is true, but it is commonly expressed in such a way that the truth is lost sight of. Literally understood it is incredible. The only way to get at the truth in every one of these venerable articles of the Christian faith will be to shed the husk, and that we must do without hesitation or compromise. A more accurate historic perspective would save us from the crudities so often preached from the pulpits in the name of Christian truth, crudities which repel so many intelligent men from the benefits of public worship. There never has been the slightest need for any man of thoughtful mind and reverent spirit to recoil from the fundamentals of the Christian creed. Rightly understood they are the fundamentals of human nature itself. +Godhead and manhood.+--The first in order of thought is that of the Godhead of Jesus. As regards this tenet I think it should be easily possible to show that the most convinced adherent of the traditional theology does not believe and never has believed what he professes to hold. The terms with which we have to deal are Deity, divinity, and humanity. A good deal of confusion exists concerning the interrelation of these three. It is supposed that humanity and divinity are mutually exclusive, and that divinity and Deity must necessarily mean exactly the same thing. But this is not so. It follows from the first principle of the New Theology that all the three are fundamentally and essentially one, but in scope and extent they are different. By the Deity we mean--and I suppose everyone means--the all-controlling consciousness of the universe as well as the infinite, unfathomable, and unknowable abyss of being beyond. By divinity we mean the essence of the nature of the immanent God, the innermost and all-determining quality of that nature; we have already seen that according to the Christian religion the innermost quality of the divine nature is perfect love. Show us perfect love and you have shown us the divinest thing the universe can produce, whether it knows itself to be immediately directed and controlled by the infinite consciousness of Deity or whether it does not. It is clear, then, that although Deity and divinity are essentially one, the latter is the lesser term and is dependent for its validity upon the former. Humanity is a lesser term still. It stands for that expression of the divine nature which we associate with our limited human consciousness. Strictly speaking, the human and divine are two categories which shade into and imply each other; humanity is divinity viewed from below, divinity is humanity viewed from above. If any human being could succeed in living a life of perfect love, that is a life whose energies were directed toward impersonal ends, and which was lived in such a way as to be and do the utmost for the whole, he would show himself divine, for he would have revealed the innermost of God. Now let us apply these definitions to the personality of Jesus. Granted that the devotion of Christians has been right in recognising in Him the one perfect human life, that is, the one life which consistently and from first to last was lived in terms of the whole, what are we to call it except divine? In a sense, of course, everything that exists is divine, because the whole universe is an expression of the being of God. But it can hardly be seriously contended that a crocodile is as much an expression of God as General Booth. It is wise and right, therefore, to restrict the word "divine" to the kind of consciousness which knows itself to be, and rejoices to be, the expression of a love which is a consistent self-giving to the universal life. "God is love; and he that dwelleth in love dwelleth in God and God in him." General Booth is divine in so far as this is the governing principle of his life. Jesus was divine simply and solely because His life was never governed by any other principle. We do not need to talk of two natures in Him, or to think of a mysterious dividing line on one side of which He was human and on the other divine. In Him humanity was divinity and divinity, humanity. Does anyone think that this brings Jesus down to our level? Assuredly it does not; we are far too prone to be ruled by names. To the ordinary Christian this explanation of the divinity of Jesus may seem equivalent to the denial of His uniqueness, but it is nothing of the kind. I have already devoted some little space to emphasising the obvious fact that it is impossible to deny the uniqueness of Jesus; history has settled that question for us. If all the theologians and materialists put together were to set to work to-morrow to try to show that Jesus was just like other people, they would not succeed, for the civilised world has already made up its mind on that point, and by a right instinct recognises Jesus as the unique standard of human excellence. But this is not to say that we shall never reach that standard too; quite the contrary. We must reach it in order to fulfil our destiny and to crown and complete His work. To stop short of manifesting the perfect love of God would be to fail of the object for which we are here and to render the advent of Jesus useless. Christendom already knows this perfectly well, although it has not always succeeded in expressing it with perfect clearness. "Beloved, now are we sons of God, and it doth not yet appear what we shall be, but we know that when He (or rather it) shall appear, we shall be like Him." In our practical religion we all, even the most reactionary of us, regard the divinity of Jesus just in this way. It has no other value. We talk of imitating Him, conforming to His likeness, showing His spirit, and so on. When we want a model for courage, fidelity, gentleness, humility, unselfishness, we promptly turn to Jesus. Even in our relations with God we try to follow His lead; instinctively we range ourselves with Him when we address the universal Father; until we come to creed-making we never think of putting Him on the God side of things and ourselves on another. Catholic or Protestant, orthodox or unorthodox, Unitarian or Trinitarian, we all accept in practice the identity of the divine and human in Jesus and potentially in ourselves. But you make Him only a man! No, reader, I do not. I make Him the only Man--and there is a difference. We have only seen perfect manhood once and that was the manhood of Jesus. The rest of us have got to get there. +Jesus and Deity.+--This brings us to the further question of the Deity of Jesus. As a matter of fact, as I have already indicated, this question, too, has long been settled in practice. If by the Deity of Jesus is meant that He possessed the all-controlling consciousness of the universe, then assuredly He was not the Deity for He did not possess that consciousness. He prayed to His Father, sometimes with agony and dread; He wondered, suffered, wept, and grew weary. He confessed His ignorance of some things and declared Himself to have no concern with others; it is even doubtful how far He was prepared to receive the homage of those about Him. If there be one thing which becomes indisputable from the reading of the gospel narratives it is that Jesus possessed a true human consciousness, limited like our own, and, like our own, subject to the ordinary ills of life. Once again everybody knows this after a fashion. The most determined of so-called orthodox controversialists would hardly try to maintain that the consciousness of Jesus was at once limited and unlimited. To do so would be an impossible feat; if Jesus was the Deity, He certainly was not the _whole_ of the Deity during His residence on earth, whatever He may be now. But, it may be objected, in His earthly life He was the Deity self-limited: "He emptied Himself, taking the form of a servant," etc. Quite so, but see where this statement leads. The New Theology can consistently make it, but it is difficult to see how that newer theology which calls itself orthodoxy manages to do so. Does the self-limitation of Jesus mean that the Deity was lessened in any way during the incarnation? Why, of course not, we should all say; the Deity continued with infinite fulness unimpaired above and beyond the consciousness of Jesus. Then are we to understand that this self-limitation of Jesus meant that the eternal Son, or second person in the Trinity, the Word by whom the worlds were made, quitted the throne of His glory and lived for thirty-three years as a Jewish peasant? I think the dogmatic theologian would have some hesitation in giving an unqualified affirmative to this question, for the difficulties implied in it are practically insurmountable. Was the full consciousness of the eternal Word present in the babe of Bethlehem, for instance? If not, where was it? Questions like these cannot be answered on the lines of the conventional Christology. The plain and simple answer to all of them is to admit that the Jesus of history did not possess the consciousness of Deity during His life on earth. His consciousness was as purely human as our own. Any special insight which He possessed into the true relations of God and man was due to the moral perfection of His nature and not to His metaphysical status. He was God manifest in the flesh because His life was a consistent expression of divine love and not otherwise. But He was not God manifest in the flesh in any way which would cut Him off from the rest of human kind. According to the received theology, Jesus and Jesus only, out of all the beings who have ever trodden the road which humanity has to travel, existed before all ages. We live our threescore years and ten and then pass on into eternity; He was eternal to begin with. He comes to earth with a hoary antiquity behind Him, a timeless life to look back upon; we have just fluttered into existence. Surely any ordinary intelligence can see that this kind of theologising puts an impassable gulf at once between Jesus and every other person who has ever been born of an earthly mother. Certainly it does, the theologian may declare, and rightly so, for that gulf exists; He assumed human nature, but He was eternally divine before He did so, and we are not. I do not need to refute this argument; the trend of modern thought is already doing so most effectually. It is a gratuitous assumption without a shred of evidence to support it. Besides, unfortunately for this kind of statement, the scientific investigation of Christian origins, and the application of the scientific method to the history of Christian doctrine have shown us how the dogma of the Deity of Jesus grew up. It was a comparatively late development in Christianity, and its practical implications never have been accepted, although at one time there was a danger that the winsome figure of Jesus would be removed altogether from the field of human interest and regard. The Jesus of Michael Angelo's "Last Judgment" is a terrifying figure without a trace of the lowly Nazarene about Him, and yet this was the Jesus of the conventional Christianity of the time. It was through this dehumanising of Jesus in Christian thought and experience that Mariolatry arose in the Roman church. Could anything be more grotesque than the suggestion that the mother of Jesus should need to plead with her son to be merciful with frail humanity? And yet this is what it came to; the figure of Mary was introduced in order to preserve a real humanity in our relations with the Godhead. All honour to those who have called us back to the real Jesus, the Jesus of Galilee and Jerusalem, the Jesus with the prophet's fire, the Jesus who was so gentle with little children and erring women, and yet before whom canting hypocrites and truculent ecclesiastics slunk away abashed. Upon this recovered Jesus the world has now fixed its adoring gaze, and it will not readily let Him go again. +Divine manhood and Unitarianism.+--But then, someone will protest, this is sheer Unitarianism after all; you do not believe in the Jesus who is the object of the faith of Christendom, but in one who was only a man among men; you do not think of Him as very God of very God. Not so fast; we are busy with names again. Most of us have a tendency to think that if we can get a doctrine labelled and pigeonholed, we know all about it, but we are generally mistaken. This is not Unitarianism, and I do believe that Jesus was very God, as I have already shown. We have to get rid of the dualism which will insist on putting humanity and Deity into two separate categories. I say it is not Unitarianism, for historic Unitarianism has been just as prone to this dualism as the extremest Trinitarianism has ever been. Like Trinitarianism it has often tended to regard humanity as on one side of a gulf and Deity as on the other; it has emphasised too much the transcendence of God. The sentence quoted above from an orthodox Trinitarian divine about "God's eternal eminence and His descent on a created world" might just as well have been employed by an out-and-out Unitarian. Modern Unitarianism is in part the descendant of eighteenth-century Deism which insisted upon the transcendence of God almost to the exclusion of His immanence; it thought of God as away somewhere above the universe, watching it but leaving the machine pretty much to itself. Unitarianism in the course of its history from the first century downward has passed through a good many phases. Present-day Unitarianism is preaching with fervour and clearness the foundation truth of the New Theology, the fundamental unity of God and man. But it does not belong to it exclusively, and I decline to be labelled Unitarian because I preach it too. The New Theology is not a victory for Unitarianism. If ever the English-speaking communities of the world should come to be united under a single flag, would it be just and wise to call them all Americans? No doubt some of our American cousins would like to think so, but there is enough of virility and solid worth on the British side of the question to make that description impossible. The title would be a misnomer, and in fact an absurdity. The case in regard to the connection of the New Theology with Unitarianism is not dissimilar. It is only sectarian Unitarians who would try to claim it for their own denomination; the best and most outstanding exponents of Unitarianism would not wish to do anything of the kind, for they know well enough that historically speaking they have not consistently stood for it any more than any other denomination. The New Theology does not belong to any one church but to all. For my own part I would not even take the trouble to try to turn a Roman Catholic into a Protestant. Let every man stay in the church whose spiritual atmosphere and modes of worship best accord with his temperament, but let him recognise the deeper unity that lies below the formal creeds. The old issue between Unitarianism and Trinitarianism vanishes in the New Theology; the bottom is knocked out of the controversy. Unitarianism used to declare that Jesus was man _not_ God; Trinitarianism maintained that He was God _and_ man; the oldest Christian thought, as well as the youngest, regards Him as God _in_ man--God manifest in the flesh. But here emerges a great point of difference between the New Theology on the one hand and traditional orthodoxy on the other. The latter would restrict the description "God manifest in the flesh" to Jesus alone; the New Theology would extend it in a lesser degree to all humanity, and would maintain that in the end it will be as true of every individual soul as ever it was of Jesus. Indeed, it is this belief that gives value and significance to the earthly mission of Jesus; He came to show us what we potentially are. This is a great and important issue, which requires to be treated in a separate chapter. CHAPTER VI THE ETERNAL CHRIST In the course of Christian history a good deal of time has been occupied in the discussion of the metaphysical question of the complex unity of the divine nature; and the result has been the doctrine of the Trinity, a conception which, it has been claimed, at once satisfies and transcends the operations of the human intellect. Most non-theological modern minds are, however, somewhat suspicious of the doctrine of the Trinity; it seems rather too speculative and too remote from ordinary ways of thinking to possess much real value. But this is quite a mistake. We cannot dispense with the doctrine of the Trinity, for it, or something like it, is implied in the very structure of the mind. It belongs to philosophy even more than to religion, and to the sphere of ethics not less. I daresay even the man in the street knows, quite as certainly as the man in the schools, that a metaphysical proposition underlies the doing of every moral act, even though it may never be expressed. All thinking starts with an assumption of some kind, and without an assumption thought is impossible. This is just as true of the strictest scientific processes as it is of deductive reasoning, and indeed it is interesting to watch the way in which within recent years idealistic philosophy and empirical science have joined hands. Does physical science, then, imply the doctrine of the Trinity? Yes, unquestionably it does, after a fashion, for it starts with an assumption which takes it for granted. Perhaps this would be news to Professor Ray Lankester, and such as he, but I think I could convince them that I am right if I had them face to face. To use the mind at all we have to assume this doctrine even though we may not actually formulate it. Christianity did not invent it; it clarified and defined it, but in principle it is as old as the exercise of human reason. +The basal assumption of thought.+--After making a comprehensive assertion of this kind I suppose I am bound to justify it, and I do not shrink from the task. I say that all thinking starts with an assumption of some kind, and exact thought requires that that assumption shall be the simplest possible, the irreducible minimum beneath which we cannot get. Now when we start thinking about existence as a whole and ourselves in particular, we are compelled to assume the infinite, the finite, and the activity of the former within the latter. In other words we have to postulate God, the universe, and God's operation within the universe. Look at these three conceptions for a moment and it will be seen that every one of them implies the rest; they are a Trinity in unity. The primordial being must be infinite, for there cannot be a finite without something still beyond it. We know, too, that to our experience the universe is finite; we can measure, weigh, and analyse it--an impossible thing to do with an infinite substance. And yet if we think of infinite and finite as two entirely distinct and unrelated modes of existence, we find ourselves in an impossible position, for the infinite must be that outside of which nothing exists or can exist; so of course we are compelled to think of the infinite as ever active within the finite, the source of change and motion, the exhaustless power which makes possible the very idea of development from simplicity to complexity. If the universe were complete in itself, change would not occur, and a cosmic process, evolutionary or otherwise, would be inconceivable. Here, then, we have the basal factors of any true theology, philosophy, or science. Readers of Haeckel's "Riddle of the Universe" will note that that eminent materialist, who professes to do away with the very idea of God, takes these factors for granted; and yet I suppose he would object to being told that he believes in the doctrine of the Trinity. But he does, for he begins by assuming infinite space filled to the farthest with matter ponderable and imponderable, and forthwith proceeds to weigh, measure, and divide the latter as though it were finite! Here are two terms of the doctrine of the Trinity at once. We get the third as soon as Professor Haeckel sets to work to explain the cosmic process, for as he does so he is all the while taking for granted that the infinite is pressing in and up through the finite, evolving beauty and order, light and life. +The moral basis of the doctrine.+--But it may be contended that these bare bones of the doctrine of the Trinity are not the doctrine as it enters into spiritual experience. I admit the fact while asserting strongly that but for this framework of intellectual necessity the doctrine would be unknown to faith and morals. It is sometimes stated that the doctrine of the Trinity was formulated in order to account for Jesus, but that is only incidentally true. Its framers took the materials for it over from Greek thought, and even Greek thought probably inherited it from an older civilisation still, if indeed there were any necessity to inherit it. I contend that if we had never heard of the doctrine in connection with Jesus, we should have to invent it now in order to account for ourselves and the wondrous universe in which we live. Unquestionably, however, it is from the point of view of religion and morals that the doctrine has most significance, and therefore has become indissolubly associated with the personality of Jesus; and it is easy to see how this has come about. Thinkers have always been compelled to construe the universe in terms of the highest known to man, namely, his own moral nature. It was natural, therefore, that while they thought of the universe as an expression of God, they should think of it as the expression of that side of His being which can only be described as the ideal or archetypal manhood. The infinite being of God is utterly incomprehensible to a finite mind, and in regard to it the most devout saint is as much an agnostic as the most convinced materialist. But we are justified in holding that whatever else He may be God is essentially man, that is, He is the fount of humanity. There must be one side, so to speak, of the infinitely complex being of God in which humanity is eternally contained and which finds expression in the finite universe. Humanity is not a vague term; we have already seen something of what it is. We ought not to interpret it in terms of the primeval savage, or even of average human nature to-day, but in terms of what we have come to feel is its highest expression, and that is Jesus. If we think therefore of the archetypal eternal divine Man, the source and sustenance of the universe, and yet transcending the universe, we cannot do better than think of Him in terms of Jesus; Jesus is the fullest expression of that eternal divine Man on the field of human history. Here, then, we have the first and second factors in the doctrine of the Trinity morally and spiritually construed. +The divine Man.+--The idea of a divine Man, the emanation of the infinite, the soul of the universe, the source and goal of all humanity, is ages older than Christian theology. It can be traced in Babylonian religious literature, for instance, at a period older even than the Old Testament. It played a not unimportant part in Greek thought, and Philo of Alexandria, a contemporary of Jesus, works it out in some detail in his religio-philosophic system, which aimed to combine the wide outlook of Greek culture with the high seriousness of Hebrew religion. It is a true, indeed an inevitable, conception, if we hold anything like a consistent view of the immanence of God in His universe. With what God have we to do except the God who is eternally man? This aspect of the nature of God has been variously described in the course of its history. It has been called the Word, the Son, and, as we have seen, the second person in the Trinity. For various reasons I prefer to call it--or rather Him--the eternal Christ. I do this because, for one thing, the word "Christ" is a living word with a clearly marked ethical content and a great religious value. Originally, of course, it was but the Greek equivalent of the Hebrew Messiah, and meant the "anointed one," the person chosen for a special divine work. But in the New Testament, especially the writings of St. Paul, as well as all Christian history through, it is associated on the one hand with the personality of Jesus, and, on the other, with the fontal or ideal Man who contains and is expressed in all human kind. According to the New Testament writers, Jesus was and is the Christ, but in His earthly life His consciousness of the fact was limited. But, as we have come forth from this fontal manhood, we too must be to some extent expressions of this eternal Christ; and it is in virtue of that fact that we stand related to Jesus, and that the personality of Jesus has anything to do with us. Here is where the value of our belief in the interaction of the higher and the lower self comes in. Fundamentally our being is already one with that of the eternal Christ, and faith in Jesus is faith in Him. Jesus is not one being and the Christ another; the two are one, and Jesus seems to have known it during His earthly ministry. He lived His life in such a way as to reveal the very essence of the Christ nature. He is therefore central for us, and we are complete in Him. Here is the goal of all moral effort--Christ. Here, too, is the highest reach of the religious ideal--Christ. "For the life was manifested, and we have seen it, and bear witness, and shew unto you that eternal life, which was with the Father, and was manifested unto us." +The Christ of St. Paul.+--I am persuaded that we have here the key to the Christology of that great thinker and preacher, the apostle Paul. It is this ideal or eternal Christ who is the object of his faith and devotion. He even goes so far as to warn his readers not to dwell too much upon the limited earthly Jesus, but upon His true being in the eternal reality: "Wherefore henceforth know we no man after the flesh; yea, though we have known Christ after the flesh, yet now henceforth know we Him no more." He does not say, "To me to live is Jesus," but, "To me to live is _Christ_." If ever there was a Christian who really loved Jesus with passionate and whole-hearted devotion, it was the apostle Paul, but he says almost nothing about the earthly ministry of his Lord. He seems to have had a vivid impression as to what the character of Jesus was really like, and he gave himself up to the worship of this with all his heart; but he does not draw for us any of the beautiful gospel pictures of the Jesus in the peasant's dress who taught on the hillsides of Galilee, went about doing good, was a welcome guest in the home at Bethany, lived a true human life, and died a shameful death. Paul always thought of Him, and truly, as the Lord who came down from heaven, but he does _not_ draw a sharp line of distinction between Him and the rest of humanity. He calls Jesus "the first-born among many brethren." He speaks of the summing up of all things in Christ, and of the final consummation when God shall be all in all. Here is the New Theology with a vengeance. Paul requires to be rescued from the inadequate and distorting interpretations his thought has received in the course of its history. He brought this conception of the eternal Christ into Christianity from pre-Christian thought, saw it ideally revealed in Jesus, and then bade mankind respond to it and realise it to be the true explanation of our own being. Sometimes he appears to deviate from this view, and to say things inconsistent with it, but that we need not mind; he saw it, and that is enough. It forms the foundation of his gospel. CHAPTER VII THE INCARNATION OF THE SON OF GOD +Jesus all that Christian devotion has believed Him to be.+--So far we have seen that the personality of Jesus is central for Christian faith. We deny nothing about Him that Christian devotion has ever affirmed, but we affirm the same things of humanity as a whole in a differing degree. The practical dualism which regards Jesus as coming into humanity from something that beforehand was not humanity we declare to be misleading. Our view of the subject does not belittle Jesus but it exalts human nature. Let this be clearly understood and most of the objections to it will vanish. Briefly summed up, the position is as follows: Jesus was God, but so are we. He was God because His life was the expression of divine love; we too are one with God in so far as our lives express the same thing. Jesus was not God in the sense that He possessed an infinite consciousness; no more are we. Jesus expressed fully and completely, in so far as a finite consciousness ever could, that aspect of the nature of God which we have called the eternal Son, or Christ, or ideal Man who is the Soul of the universe, and "the light that lighteth every man that cometh into the world;" we are expressions of the same primordial being. Fundamentally we are all one in this eternal Christ. This is the most difficult statement of all to make clear, for the average westerner cannot grasp it; it is different from his ordinary way of looking at things. The best way of demonstrating it, as I have already shown, is to draw attention to the fact that Christian orthodoxy has all along been affirming the mystic union between Christ and the soul, and that the limited earthly consciousness of Jesus did not prevent Him from being really and truly God. Why should we not speak in a similar way about any other human consciousness? If we could only get men to do so habitually and sincerely, it would be the greatest gain to religion that could possibly be imagined. In the third chapter I have pointed out that psychological science is doing much to help us toward this realisation. We are beginning to see, however hard it may be to understand it, that our limited individual consciousness is no barrier to the true identification of the lesser with the larger self. What Christian doctrine, therefore, has been affirming of Jesus for hundreds of years past is receiving impressive confirmation from modern science and is being seen to be true of every human being--that is, the lesser and the larger are one, however little the earthly consciousness may be able to grasp the fact. To me this is a most helpful and inspiring truth, one of the most important that has ever found a place in Christian thought; it elucidates much that would otherwise be obscure. It enables us to see how the human and divine were blended in Jesus without making Him essentially different from the rest of the human race; it enables us to realise our own true origin and to believe in the salvability of every soul that has ever come to moral consciousness. If this truth will not lift a man toward the higher life, I do not know one that will. It is the truth implied in all redemptive effort that has ever been made, and in every message that has ever gripped conscience and heart; it is, as the Nicene creed has it, "the taking of the manhood into God." +The preëminence of Jesus.+--Lest anyone should think that this position involves in the slightest degree the diminution of the religious value and the moral preëminence of Jesus, let me say that it does the very opposite. Nothing can be higher than the highest, and the life of Jesus was the undimmed revelation of the highest. Faith to be effective must centre on a living person, and the highest objective it has ever found is Jesus. He is no abstraction but a spiritual reality, an ever-present friend and guide, our brother and our Lord. No one will ever compete with Jesus for this position in human hearts. When I speak of the eternal Christ, I do not mean someone different from Jesus, although I certainly do mean the basal principle of all human goodness; Jesus was and is that Christ, and we can only understand what the Christ is because we have seen Him. Whole-hearted faith in Him has proved itself to be the most effective means to the manifestation of our own Christhood. +Jesus and the incarnation.+--This thought at once opens up another great question to which we have already alluded, that of the incarnation of this eternal Christ or Son of God in the finite universe. According to the received theology the incarnation of God in human life was limited to the life of Jesus only, and through Him to mankind. I purposely say popular theology because the best Christian thought has always known better. Popular theology has it that Jesus, the only-begotten eternal Son of God, took human flesh and a human nature, was conceived by the Holy Ghost in the womb of a virgin, and was born into the world in a wholly miraculous way--a way which stamps Him as different from all that were ever born of woman before or since. It seems strange that belief in the virgin birth of Jesus should ever have been held to be a cardinal article of the Christian faith, but it is so even to-day. There is not much need to combat it, for most reputable theologians have now given it up, but it is still a stumbling-block to many minds. Perhaps, therefore, a brief examination of the subject may not be altogether out of place. +The virgin birth not demonstrable from Scripture.+--The virgin birth of Jesus was apparently unknown to the primitive church, for the earliest New Testament writings make no mention of it. Paul's letters do not allude to it, neither does the gospel of St. Mark. "In the fulness of time," says the great apostle, "God sent forth His Son born of a woman." He was "of the seed of David according to the flesh," but nowhere does Paul give us so much as a hint of anything supernatural attending the mode of His entry into the world. Mark does not even tell us anything about the childhood of the Master; his account begins with the baptism of Jesus in Jordan. The fourth gospel, although written much later, ignores the belief in the virgin birth, and even seems to do so of set purpose as belittling and materialising the truth. The supposed Old Testament prophecies of the event have nothing whatever to do with it. The famous passage, "Behold a virgin shall conceive and bear a son, and shall call His name Immanuel," is a reference to contemporary events, and the word translated "virgin" simply means a young woman. It is a prophecy of the birth of a prince whose work it should be to put right for Judah what the reigning king Ahaz had been putting wrong. The story in the seventh of Isaiah is as follows: Ahaz, a rather weak ruler, was greatly concerned by the news that Rezin, king of Syria and Pekah, king of northern Israel, had formed an alliance against him and were marching on Jerusalem. In his extremity this monarch of a petty state turned toward the mighty ruler of Assyria, the greatest military power in the world, and asked his help against the combination. Isaiah, statesman as well as prophet, saw that this was a wrong move. Assyria was aspiring to universal dominion, and to form an alliance with the military master of that mighty state would be to supply him with an excuse for further interference. The policy of Ahaz was therefore as suicidal as that of John Balliol when he called in Edward the First to adjudicate on his claim to the crown of Scotland, or the policy of Spain when she called in Napoleon. Sargon, king of Assyria, was overturning thrones in all directions, profiting by the divisions and jealousies of his foes. The great empires of Egypt and Babylonia went down before him as well as the smaller states. The condition of things in this ancient world was just like that of Europe at the beginning of the nineteenth century when the star of Napoleon was in the ascendant. For Ahaz to turn for help to Sargon was to court disaster in the end. Isaiah saw this and went out to meet Ahaz one day "at the end of the conduit of the upper pool in the highway of the fuller's field"--a vivid descriptive touch. The king was apparently preparing to stand a siege in his capital and was making sure of the water supply. Isaiah's remonstrance was in substance: You need not take so much trouble with your preparations; Syria and Israel will have more than enough to do presently to defend their own borders from Sargon. Besides, men like Rezin and Pekah are not men to be afraid of in any case; they have neither strength nor skill. But do not for heaven's sake call in Sargon; if you do you will supply him with an excuse for meddling and we shall never get rid of him. This was good counsel, but Ahaz was too short-sighted and panic-stricken to take much notice of it, so in oriental fashion Isaiah goes on to paint a picture of future disaster. The land, he says, will soon be laid waste, and future generations will rue the policy now being determined upon. In the end, of course, things will come all right, for God will not abandon His people. A better and wiser prince shall arise who shall restore prosperity to Judah. That prince is not yet born, but when he is, his name shall be called Immanuel,--God with us. In another place he describes him as Wonderful Counsellor, Divine Hero, Father Everlasting, Prince of Peace. "Butter and honey shall he eat," because there will be nothing else left after Assyria has swept over the country, but the discipline may have good results in the end, and will serve to bring Judah to her senses. There is something strikingly modern about all this, and it is a good example of the way in which the same conditions arise over and over again in the course of human history. It is plain to be seen that the prophecy here indicated was only the shrewd common sense of a wise and patriotic man who loved his country and believed in God. But what on earth have his words to do with the birth of Jesus? It is only by a very long stretch of the pious imagination that they can be held to apply to Christianity at all. They have an interest of their own, and a very considerable interest, too, even from the point of view of religion; but Isaiah would have been considerably astonished to be told that they would have to wait seven hundred years for fulfilment. To a certain extent they were fulfilled soon afterward in the advent of the well-meaning but not very brilliant king Hezekiah. I have dwelt upon this passage at some length because it is a fair example of the way in which Old Testament literature has been pressed into the service of Christian dogma. What I am now saying, as I need hardly point out, is not my _ipse dixit_; expert biblical scholarship has been saying it for a long time, but somehow or other its bearing upon generally accepted dogmas is not popularly realised. It can hardly be maintained that Christian preachers who know the truth about these matters and refrain from stating it plainly are doing their duty to their congregations. No Old Testament passage whatever is directly or indirectly a prophecy of the virgin birth of Jesus. To insist upon this may seem to many like beating a man of straw, but if so the man of straw still retains a good deal of vitality. +The virgin birth in the gospels.+--The only two gospels in which the virgin birth is alluded to are Matthew and Luke, and the nativity stories contained in these are very beautiful, especially those peculiar to Luke. But the two gospels are mutually contradictory in their account of the circumstances attending the miraculous birth. Each contains a genealogy which professes to be that of Joseph, not of Mary, and these are inconsistent with each other. What has the genealogy of Joseph got to do with the birth of Jesus if Jesus were not his own son? The conclusion seems probable that in the earlier versions of these gospels the miraculous conception did not find a place, or else that two inconsistent sources have been drawn upon without sufficient care being taken to reconcile them. But this is not the only discrepancy. Matthew gives Bethlehem as the native place of Joseph and Mary, Luke says Nazareth. Matthew says not a word about the census of Cyrenius as the motive for the journey to Bethlehem, but leads us to suppose that the holy family were already in residence there. Then again he tells us of the coming of the wise men from the East, their public inquiry as to the whereabouts of the holy child, the jealousy of Herod, the massacre of the innocents, and the flight into Egypt. Luke says nothing about these things, but gives us an entirely different set of wonders, including the attendance of an angelic host and the annunciation to the shepherds. So far from recording any massacre, or any hasty flight, he tells us that some time after His birth the babe was taken to the Temple at Jerusalem to be presented to the Lord, and that afterwards He and His parents "returned into Galilee to their own city Nazareth." According to Matthew Nazareth was an afterthought and only became the residence of the holy family after the return from Egypt. These accounts do not tally, and no ingenuity can reconcile them. The nativity stories belong to the poetry of religion, not to history. To regard them as narrations of actual fact is to misunderstand them. They are better than that; they take us into the region of exalted feeling and give us a vision of truth too great for prosaic statement. Christianity would be poorer by the loss of them, but they are not indigenous to Christianity. They have their parallels in other religions, some of them much older than the advent of Jesus. The beautiful legends surrounding the infancy of Gautama, for example, are startlingly similar to those contained in the first and third gospels. Like Jesus, the Buddhist messiah is stated to have been of royal descent and was born of a virgin mother. At his birth a supernatural radiance illuminated the whole district, and a troop of heavenly beings sang the praises of the holy child. Later on a wise man, guided by special portents, recognised him as the long-expected and divinely appointed light-bringer and life-giver of mankind. When but a youth he was lost for a time and was found by his father in the midst of a circle of holy men, sunk in rapt contemplation of the great mystery of existence. The parallel between these legends and the Christian version of the marvels attending the birth of Jesus is so close as to preclude the possibility of its being altogether accidental. There must have been a connection somewhere, and indeed there is no need to think otherwise, for nothing is to be gained or lost by admitting it. +Christianity not dependent on a virgin birth.+--But why hesitate about the question? The greatness of Jesus and the value of His revelation to mankind are in no way either assisted or diminished by the manner of His entry into the world. Every birth is just as wonderful as a virgin birth could possibly be, and just as much a direct act of God. A supernatural conception bears no relation whatever to the moral and spiritual worth of the person who is supposed to enter the world in this abnormal way. The credibility and significance of Christianity are in no way affected by the doctrine of the virgin birth otherwise than that the belief tends to put a barrier between Jesus and the race and to make Him something which cannot properly be called human. Those who insist on the doctrine will find themselves in danger of proving too much, for, pressed to its logical conclusion, it removes Jesus altogether from the category of humanity in any real sense. Like many others, I used to take the position that acceptance or non-acceptance of the doctrine of the virgin birth was immaterial because Christianity was quite independent of it, but later reflection has convinced me that in point of fact it operates as a hindrance to spiritual religion and a real living faith in Jesus. The simple and natural conclusion is that Jesus was the child of Joseph and Mary and had an uneventful childhood. +The truth in the doctrine of the virgin birth.+--And yet, as with every tenet which has held a place in human thought for any considerable length of time, there is a great truth contained in the idea of a virgin birth. It is the truth that the emergence of anything great and beautiful in human character and achievement is the work of the divine spirit operating within human limitations. This idea is very ancient, and there is no great religion which does not contain it in some form or other. One form of it, for example, can be discerned in the Babylonian creation myth with its parallel in the book of Genesis. The home of the primitive Chaldeans, the stock whence Israelites, Babylonians, Assyrians, and other Semitic communities sprang, was in the low-lying territory surrounding the Persian gulf. During the rainy seasons these lands were flooded by the overflow of the great rivers. The sun of springtime, rising upon this mass of waters which stretched in every direction as far as the eye could see, drew forth from their bosom the life and beauty of summer flowers and fruit. From observation of this regularly recurring phenomenon the primitive Semites constructed their creation myth, one version of which appeared in the first chapter of the book of Genesis, a version much later than the Babylonian, but an outgrowth of the same idea. They thought of a primeval waste of water covering everything. As the writer of the Genesis account has it: "The earth was without form and void, and darkness was upon the face of the deep." In the Babylonian version this primeval water was personified as a woman--Tiamat. They thought of the sun of heaven as impregnating this virgin matrix with the seeds of cosmic life--quite an accurate conception from the modern point of view. Later on this idea became spiritualised in a much higher degree. The religious mind came to regard the physical, mundane, or distinctively human principle as the matrix upon which the spirit of God brooded, bringing to the birth a divine idea. And this is perfectly true too, as anyone can see. Nothing great and noble in human experience can be accounted for merely in terms of atoms and molecules. That is where materialism always comes to grief, for on its own premises it cannot account for the emergence of intelligence and all the higher qualities of human nature. A divine element, a spiritual quickening, is required for the evolution of anything Godlike in our mundane sphere; it is a virgin birth. Lower acting upon lower can never produce a higher. It is the downpouring and incoming of the higher to the lower which produces through the lower the divine manhood which leaves the brute behind. This is the sense in which it is true that Jesus was of divine as well as human parentage. We do not account for Him merely by saying that He was the son of Joseph and Mary and the descendant of a long line of prophets, priests, and kings; we have to recognise that His true greatness came from above. +True of all higher human experience.+--The same thing holds good in a lesser degree of everything worthy of Jesus in human experience. We do not account for any man's goodness or greatness by pointing to his ancestry. Heredity may account for a great deal, but it is inadequate as an explanation of genius or high moral achievement. If we go back far enough, we shall find that our ancestry was barbarous, and, judging from its tendencies, not at all likely to produce the Christ-man of future ages. Wherever the Christ-man appears, we have to acknowledge that the principal factor in his evolution is the incoming of the divine spirit. It is only another way of stating what has already been stated above, that the true man or higher self is divine and eternal, integral to the being of God, and that this divine manhood is gradually but surely manifesting on the physical plane. The lower cannot produce the higher, but the higher is shaping and transforming the lower; every moral and spiritual advance is therefore of the nature of a virgin birth--a quickening from above. The spiritual birth described in the conversation between our Lord and Nicodemus as given in the third of John is, properly speaking, a virgin birth. "That which is born of the flesh is flesh and that which is born of the spirit is spirit." "Ye must be born anew," or, literally, "quickened from above." Every man who deliberately faces towards the highest, and feels himself reënforced by the Spirit of God in so doing, is quickened from above; the divinely human Christ is born in him, the Word has become flesh and is manifested to the world. +Human history one long incarnation.+--If now we can turn our thoughts away for a moment from the individual to the race and think of humanity as one being, or the expression of one being, we shall read this truth on a larger scale. All human history represents the incarnation or manifesting of the eternal Son or Christ of God. The incarnation cannot be limited to one life only, however great that life may be. It is quite a false idea to think of Jesus and no one else as the Son of God incarnate. It is easy to understand the loving reverence for Jesus which would lead men to regard Him as being and expressing something to which none of the rest of us can ever attain, but in affirming this we actually rob Him of a glory He ought to receive. We make Him unreal, reduce His earthly life to a sort of drama, and effect a drastic distinction in kind between Him and ourselves. If He came from the farther side of the gulf and we only from the hither; if we are humanity without divinity, and He divinity that has only assumed humanity,--perfect fellowship between Him and ourselves is impossible. But it is untrue to say that any such distinction exists. Let us go on thinking of Jesus as Christ, the very Christ of glory, but let us realise that that same Christ is seeking expression through every human soul. He is incarnate in the race in order that by means of limitation He may manifest the innermost of God, the life and love eternal. To say this does not dethrone Jesus; it lends significance to His life and work. He is on the throne and the sceptre is in His hand. We can rise toward Him by trusting, loving, and serving Him; and by so doing we shall demonstrate that we too are Christ the eternal Son. To think of all human life as a manifestation of the eternal Son, renders it sacred. Our very struggles and sufferings become full of meaning. Sin is but the failure to realise it; it is being false to ourselves and our divine origin; it is the centrifugal tendency in human nature just as love is the centripetal. There is no life, however depraved, which does not occasionally emit some sign of its kinship to Jesus and its eternal sonship to God. Wherever you see self-sacrifice at work you see the very spirit of Jesus, the spirit of the Christ incarnate. I find it everywhere, and it interprets life for me as nothing else can. Take up any work of fiction, no matter what, and you will find the author instinctively preaching this truth. Look into any commonplace, everyday life, no matter whose, and you will find it exemplified. Many a selfish bad man has one tender spot in his nature, his affection for his child, and for the sake of that child he will deny himself as he has never dreamed of doing for anything else; so far as that one influence is concerned he actually reverses the principle which governs the rest of his life. I have read of an African negress who on one occasion was beaten nearly to death by the brute to whom she was slave and paramour. Her murderer, for such he was, was arrested and placed on trial for his misdemeanour, in accordance with the rough justice of the white man in his dealings with the native. In the night the poor dying woman crawled painfully to the tree against which the ruffian lay bound, cut his cords, and set him free. It was her last act in this life; in the morning she was found lying dead on the spot whence the prisoner had fled. This particular story may or may not be true, but the same kind of thing has been true a million times in human history. What was the spirit in this benighted woman of the African wilds but the Christ spirit, the self-giving spirit seen with such unique sublimity in the life of Jesus? Look abroad all through the world, look back upon the slow, upward progress of humanity to its home in God, and you will read the story of the incarnation of the eternal Son. Never has there been an hour so dark but that some gleams of this eternal light have pierced the murky pall of human ignorance and sin; never have bitter hate and fiendish cruelty gone altogether unrelieved by the human tenderness and self-devotion that testify of God. Indeed without the limitation, the struggle, and the pain, how would this Christ spirit ever have known itself? Granted that self-surrender had never been called for by the conditions of life, granted that our resources had always known themselves infinite, and that which is worthiest and sublimest in the nature of God and man alike could never have been revealed. This is why the eternal Son has become incarnate; this is what we are here to do, and upon the faithful doing of it depends our experience of the joy that the world can neither give nor take away. The life and death of Jesus are the central expression and ideal embodiment of this age-long process, a process the consummation of which will be the glorious return and triumphant ingathering of a redeemed and perfectly unified humanity to God. "And when all things shall be subdued unto him, then shall the Son also himself be subject unto him that put all things under him, that God may be all in all." CHAPTER VIII THE ATONEMENT +I. Association of the Doctrine with Jesus+ +Importance of the subject.+--This brings us to a subject, which, more than any other, with the exception of that of the person of Jesus, has come under discussion at the present time. In the course of Christian history it has created a more extensive literature than probably any other doctrine. I mean the subject variously known as Salvation, Redemption, Atonement, and with which the terms Forgiveness, Expiation, Reconciliation, Ransom, Justification, Propitiation, Satisfaction, Sanctification, and such like have been commonly associated. The Christian doctrine of Atonement, as we may call it for convenience, bulks so large in Christian thought that all others may be held to be dependent upon it, even that of the person of Jesus; for, according to the received theology, Jesus became incarnate for our redemption, and that redemption can only be accomplished by one who is very God. +The need for an adequate explanation.+--But there is no subject upon which modern Christian thought is less coherent than this. We are constantly hearing the statement that a rational theory of the Atonement is badly wanted, or that it is our duty to preach the fact without a theory, or that the Atonement is such a mystery that no theory is possible and we must just accept it on faith. This confession of helplessness shows that there is something seriously wrong with the conventional presentation of the doctrine. But I do not think the Atonement is such a very great mystery after all, and it ought to be possible to get at the heart of it without stultifying the intellect. Anyhow, let us try. +The usual theological method of expounding it.+--As a rule treatises on the Atonement begin with an examination of the Scripture passages which are supposed to have a bearing upon it. Then follows a careful examination and criticism of the various theories of it which have successively held the field during its history; the author concludes by giving us his own. I do not propose to follow that method, for it does not possess a living interest for the mind of to-day; the psychological should take precedence of the historical. I do not feel called upon to take the doctrine of Atonement for granted and then proceed to try to find a place for it in Christian experience. On the contrary, I prefer to take human nature for granted and inquire whether it needs anything like a doctrine of Atonement. If it does not, let the doctrine go; if it does, let us see that the doctrine is presented in a reasonable fashion. If it cannot be presented reasonably, it is not wanted. But I think it is wanted, and more than wanted; it is already taken for granted by everyone who thinks seriously about life, whether it is called by its theological name or not. +Outline of present-day accepted belief in regard to it.+--Before I proceed to attempt to justify these statements let me ask my readers to call to mind the outline of what they have been taught in reference to this great fundamental of the Christian faith. Part of it has already been indicated, for it was hardly possible to avoid it when considering such a subject as that of the nature of evil or the divinity of Jesus. Roughly stated it is as follows: Our fallen humanity is separated from and under the displeasure of God. God longs to save us from our sin, but justice demands that He must punish us. The world is already an unhappy place because of sin, but what we endure here is nothing to what we shall have to endure presently when we cross the river of death; we shall all go to hell, a place of never-ending torment, unless some means can be found of justifying us before God ere we pass over. This means has been found in the self-devotion of the second person in the Trinity. The sinless Son of God took upon Himself the likeness of sinful humanity, was born into this world, lived here for a few years, suffered a violent death, and then reascended to His Father to make unceasing intercession for mankind. It was the dying of the death that was the all-important thing. It was in consideration of this death that God agreed to pardon sin. Jesus was put to death because God had arranged that He should be put to death, and because Jesus was willing to be put to death, in order that a satisfactory offering might be made to divine justice for the sins of the world. God had to punish someone before he could be free to forgive His erring children, and therefore with the consent of Jesus He punished Him. The whole scheme was prearranged in heaven, cross and all, and therefore Jesus was not taken by surprise when the end came; He was, in fact, a party to it, and His murderers were in a sense only the instruments of a beneficent, foreordained plan. God accepts this sacrifice as a full and complete equivalent for all that humanity deserves, but we must individually appropriate it by faith or it will not avail for us; we shall go to hell all the same. If on the other hand we do claim the benefit of this finished work, the merits of the Redeemer are imputed to us; we are held to be justified before God, and are gradually sanctified by the Holy Spirit operating within our souls and fashioning us into the moral likeness of our Lord. +Conventional view both true and false.+--To say that these statements are wholly untrue is impossible, for they everyone contain a truth of considerable value, but as popularly stated they are misleading. This view of the Atonement is unethical, and, in my judgment and that of many others, has wrought a good deal of mischief in the past and bewilderment in the present. Some readers of these pages will no doubt find fault with me for stating it so baldly, and will maintain that no front-rank theologian or preacher would enunciate it in these terms to-day. Once again I can only repeat that they use language which implies it, and it seems impossible to resist the conclusion that they are driven to use the vaguer language because of their own feeling that the balder statement, which their predecessors made without hesitation, is intellectually and morally impossible, and yet they do not know what to put in its place. They are reluctant to give up the belief that in some way or other the death of Jesus on Calvary actually effected something in the unseen by making God propitious toward us and removing the barrier which prevented Him from freely forgiving human sin. Of course they add other and valuable elements in their discussion of the theme, but this is their central idea and they seldom get away from it. The typical theologian never seems to think of looking at the death of Jesus from the purely human point of view, and yet surely this is the only legitimate thing to do when trying to get at the heart of the subject. It is what we should do in any other case of a like kind; we should never dream of doing anything else. We have no business to begin speculating upon transcendental questions until we have examined the purely human causes of such an event as the crucifixion of Jesus. When an adherent of the so-called orthodox view of the doctrine of the Atonement is pressed to say just what he supposes the death of Jesus to have effected in the mind of God so as to free humanity from its curse, he usually takes refuge in phrases about the "mystery of the cross," and so on. He does not say in plain language exactly what he means, for the truth is he does not know; he only believes what he has been told, and has persuaded himself that it is of the utmost value to Christian experience, which it is not and never was. The doctrine as popularly held is not only not true but it ought not to be true; it is a serious hindrance to spiritual religion. Why in the world should God require such a sacrifice before feeling Himself free to forgive His erring children? And why should it be regarded as in any real sense a substitute for what is due from us or any equivalent for what we should otherwise have to bear? Once more, perhaps, the dogmatic theologian will pull me up sharply and say that I am misrepresenting him, but I think I am on fairly safe ground in declaring that this is what the ordinary man in the pew as well as the man in the street understands by the saving work of Jesus, and he does so because of the language of the pulpit backed by the theological college preceptor. If this is the Atonement, there is little wonder that thoughtful minds will have nothing to say to it and that so many good people are puzzled to know what to think about it. +The human causes of the crucifixion of Jesus.+--If the death of Jesus took place under similar circumstances to-day, we should be in no doubt as to what to call it. It was a barbarous and wicked murder instigated by base and unscrupulous men who wanted to get rid of a dangerous teacher. We do not need to search far in order to find reasons for the tragedy. There were reasons enough in the antagonism which had long existed between Jesus and the ecclesiastical rulers of Judea. Jesus held and taught a certain ideal concerning human life and its relation to God. At the beginning of His brief public ministry He seems to have thought that His invitation to men to realise their divine sonship would meet with a ready response, and that therefore the kingdom of God would without great difficulty be established upon earth through the working of the spirit of love in human hearts. At first He gained an extensive hearing because the Jewish people were willing and ready to listen to any teacher who would hold out to them some hope of a better and happier day. Consequently He was for a time extremely popular, and even the Pharisees deliberated as to whether He might prove to be the long-expected leader who should restore the kingdom to Israel. But this attitude soon changed. People and rulers alike became disappointed with Jesus. They were looking for a kingdom which should come by force, and Jesus for one which should come by love. They wanted material benefits forthwith, while to Jesus these were altogether a secondary matter. Then, too, He became an inconvenience. His standard of rectitude was exacting. He saw through the hypocrisies and villanies of many of those who posed as the guides and directors of the nation, and He was not silent about them. He spoke out without fear or hesitation. What other people had been thinking and dared not say He said without pausing to consider what the consequences might be. No wonder the ecclesiastics came to feel that He must be silenced at any cost. It can hardly be supposed that people in general were offended by His plain language concerning those in high places, but then they wanted Him to do something besides talk. They wanted to see Him drive out the Roman without delay and inaugurate the era of power and plenty. Jesus saw well enough what the end of all this must be. He must either temporise a little, or go away and hide, or go straight on doing His work until the night came and He could work no more. He decided for the last-named course, leaving the results to God. It was in the line of His duty to go up to Jerusalem for the feast of the Passover, so to Jerusalem He went. He could hardly have been under any delusion as to what awaited Him there. The crowds in the capital were very excited about Him; His name was on every lip, and there were many who would have declared for Him at once if He had only offered Himself as the national champion against the foreigner. But by this time priests, Pharisees, and scribes understood that, in their sense of the word, a national champion He would never be. The crisis was reached at the cleansing of the Temple. The moral greatness, the tremendous impressiveness, of the personality of Jesus were never more clearly demonstrated than on this occasion. There was no earthly reason why dove-sellers, money-changers, priests, and Temple officials should be driven pell-mell out of precincts they had come to look upon as their own, except that they were overawed by the stern majesty of this wonderful Galilean. For a brief hour Jesus was master of the situation; the next day He was arrested. The thing had to be done secretly and quickly, but those who planned it calculated rightly. No sooner was Jesus made a prisoner than the populace turned against Him and clamoured for His destruction. Those who know something of mob psychology will readily understand this. Human passion easily swings from adoration to hate, as history has shown over and over again. If a strong man fails in a conflict of forces in a time of great public excitement, he is rarely allowed to sink quietly into oblivion; the mob turns upon him with the savagery of a wild beast. Napoleon was one day driving through the streets of Paris amid cheering crowds. One of his suite remarked to him that it must be gratifying to see how his subjects loved him. "Bah!" said the Emperor, "The same rabble would cheer just as madly if I were going to the guillotine." He was right. It was just the same with this Jerusalem crowd. The populace thought that the Jesus who had seemed so strong was not so strong after all, and therefore their base fury vented itself upon Him just as priests and Pharisees had foreseen. These were the immediate causes of the death of Jesus. His execution was a judicial murder done to gratify sacerdotal spite and popular passion, and the men who took part in it were guilty of what has proved to be the blackest deed in history. The same type of man exists to-day, as he has existed in every age, and if Jesus came again without saying who He was, history would repeat itself. I do not suppose His enemies would nail Him on a wooden cross,--public opinion would forbid that now, thanks to nineteen centuries of His gospel,--but they would find some means of making Him suffer, and they would invoke His own name to justify them in doing it. +The reason why there was no supernatural interference.+--But is this all that can be said about the matter? Where does God come in? Why was a crime of this sort ever permitted? Why has the memory of it actually become a religious dogma? Other people have been put to death quite as unjustly, and the results, though great, are not to be compared with those which have followed from the death of Jesus. Why is this? As we have already seen, the popular view of the doctrine of Atonement presumes that this foul deed was in some way, as the scripture has it, by "the determinate counsel and foreknowledge of God." Was it really so? Was the whole dreadful drama merely a programme to be gone through in all its appointed stages, ending with the cry of the victim, "It is finished"? There is one sense, and only one, in which such a deed can be said to have been by the determinate counsel and foreknowledge of God, and that is that God did not interfere to save Jesus from the last dread ordeal. He allowed wickedness to do its worst, and thereby made the disinterested nobleness of the character of Jesus all the clearer. In such a time as that in which Jesus lived such a life as His was sure to end on a Calvary of some kind, unless He ran away from it, or God supernaturally intervened to save Him. Neither event happened. If Jesus had shrunk from the full consequences of His actions; if He had temporised, concealed Himself, tried to gain time, or adopted any other subterfuge or expedient in order to save His life--that life would not have the moral power it possesses or shine with such glorious lustre in the world to-day. Supernatural interference would have dimmed the moral beauty of the faith, courage, and perfect self-devotion of Jesus. The moral worth of any act of self-sacrifice, no matter on what scale it is performed, is dependent upon the fact that it is done without regard to consequences. If we could see with absolute clearness the sure and certain result of any action, if we could know, as unquestionably as that two and two make four, that it would always pay to do the right thing, the very soul of goodness would have gone out of it. It is just because we do not know, save with the deeper knowledge that contradicts appearances,--the knowledge that is rightly termed faith,--that an unselfish action is in accord with the general rightness of the universe, and therefore must prevail in the end, that there is anything praiseworthy in it. The determinate counsel and foreknowledge of God were that this should be fully demonstrated in the experience of Jesus, as it has been in the experience of many a one of His followers since. Once more therefore we come to the last word of the cosmos, manifestation by sacrifice; and the experience of Jesus is the sum and centre of it all. The reason why the name of Jesus has such power in the world to-day is because a perfectly noble and unselfish life was crowned by a perfectly sacrificial death. Both were needed; either without the other would have been incomplete. Many a British soldier has died as brave a death as Jesus, but none have ever lived the life of Jesus. The life and death together were a perfect self-offering, the offering of the unit to the whole, the individual to the race, the Son to the Father, and therefore the greatest manifestation of the innermost of God that has ever been made to the world. It makes the sacrifice unreal to speak of it as though Jesus knew the end from the beginning and foresaw every stage in the programme before He came to it. He did not; He shrank from the shameful end just as we should have done, and prayed to God to save Him from it. An immense amount of pious nonsense has been spoken and written about our Lord's agony in Gethsemane. We have been told that in this dreadful hour the sorrow of Jesus bore no relation to his physical death, but was caused by His mysterious self-identification with all the sins of mankind, past, present, and to come. To add to the horror God the Father turned His face away from Him, treating Him as though He were indeed the embodiment of all the guilt of mankind, the scapegoat driven into the wilderness. I have never been able to read this kind of thing without an inner protest against the unreality of it; it precludes the possibility of understanding Jesus or entering sympathetically into an experience in which to a greater or less degree every noble soul has sooner or later to share with Him. The only way to explain Gethsemane is to approach it from the purely human point of view, as we have already done with the causes which led up to the crucifixion. Let us try to put ourselves in the sufferer's place, a perfectly legitimate and right thing to do. How would any of us have felt in the circumstances of Jesus? Suppose that you had laboured consistently and whole-heartedly, in season and out of season, to get men to realise their divine sonship and live the life that is life indeed. Suppose you had seen your hopes perish one by one, and that materialism, selfishness, and hypocrisy seemed to have become all the stronger for your protest. Suppose you saw evil gathering head against you, that you found yourself left utterly alone, and that even God seemed to be silent in this hour of tragic failure. Here are your enemies triumphant at the gate, thirsting for your blood. Beyond that gate, betrayal, torture, and public shame are waiting for you. In the background of all stands the cruel gibbet to which your own countrymen, the people you have loved with an all-absorbing love, shall presently commit you. Tell me what you would pray in like circumstances. Your agony would be just as great as that of Jesus, though perhaps your prayer would lack His magnificent faith and ungrudging self-surrender. Jesus went to His death having nothing to rely upon except His inner conviction that God and the cause of truth were one, and that somehow or other in the end that would be made plain to Himself and all the world. It would have been the same no matter what had been the particular death that Jesus died. His murderers might have taken His life in any one of a thousand ways and the ultimate result would have been just as we see it now. They might have hanged, drowned, or burnt Him, in which case the stake or the hangman's rope would have become the symbol of the world's redemption, but, after the fashion of their time, they crucified Him; it was the worst they could do, and they wanted to do the worst. At Calvary perfect love joined issue with perfect hate, perfect goodness with perfect wickedness, and became victorious by enduring the worst and remaining pure and unchanged to the last. +The moral outcome.+--But it was not the last after all; the world had still to reckon with God. That life and death have become a moral force, a spiritual dynamic greater than any before or since, just because of the completeness of the self-offering that culminated on Calvary's cross. I must not anticipate what I have to say about the resurrection further than to remark that more came out of the tomb of Jesus than ever went into it. When all seemed lost this buried life arose in power in other lives that up till then had never fully known its divine greatness and spiritual beauty. This is the truth about the death of Jesus, and nothing needs to be added to show how great an event in the dealings of God with men it must have been. It was both simple and sublime. Theological word-spinning only serves to obscure its true significance. Show to the world the real Jesus; tell men how it came about that He had to die, and they cannot help but love Him. CHAPTER IX THE ATONEMENT +II. Semitic Ideas of Atonement+ +Atonement in history.+--What, then, has this death to do with the Atonement? A great deal; but the best way to answer the question will be to obtain a clear idea as to what the Atonement really means and always has meant to Christian experience, notwithstanding the tortuous ways in which the doctrine has been articulated. I am convinced that underneath every genuine attempt to explain the Atonement which has ever held the field for any length of time in Christian history the same truth is always to be found. It is so even with the statement of it which is supposed to be orthodox to-day, but which is quite modern after all, and is practically discredited by all thoughtful minds. The mental dialect changes from one generation to another, but truth does not. As a matter of fact, statements of truth are but conventional symbols at the best, and possess only the ethical and emotional value associated with them in our minds. This is why venerable propositions which seem obscurantist to us originally possessed vital significance to their framers; the ethical and emotional content were greater than the form of statement, as they always must be. Every one of my readers is no doubt aware of the power possessed by some particular landscape or piece of music to awaken certain emotions in the heart or bring back the memory of certain events to the mind. The same scene or song might not do this for anyone else because the associations are different. It is much the same with the forms in which religious truth is stated from age to age. The form is no more the truth than the landscape is the emotion or recollection it excites; it is only a symbol for the truth. To grasp this clearly should not only make us more tolerant of archaic confessions of faith, but should help us to realise that truth is one even under apparently contradictory forms of statement. It is our duty in religion as in everything else to endeavour to express the content of spiritual experience in the forms which best accord with the mental dialect of our own day. I repeat, therefore, that underneath every one of the principal forms of statement in which the doctrine of Atonement has been presented in the past the same truth is to be found. It is an interesting historical and psychological study to try to find out what it is. +Atonement in the Old Testament.+--As I have already said above, it is usual for writers on the Atonement to begin by taking scripture for granted and presenting an examination of the principal passages in which the Atonement is thought to be presumed or declared. But if what I have just said be true, we have to get behind even the language of scripture and ask how the writers of the Old and New Testaments came to use these particular symbols and what they originally meant. The word "atonement" is not an exact translation of any one Old Testament term, but connotes a group of related religious ideas. In its Christian use other elements enter into it from Greek thought which are not to be found in the Old Testament. But the Old Testament source of the ideas as well as the term is much older than the Greek, and therefore we are right in looking to the Old Testament for the origin of the doctrine which has taken such an important place in Christianity. But here again modern research has opened up an enormous field of investigation. Israel was a member of a vast family of nations all of which had sprung from one stock, and of which the Babylonians and Assyrians were the most powerful representatives. The Israelites were, politically speaking, a comparatively insignificant folk surrounded by mighty empires which had attained a high degree of civilisation. The excavations which are now proceeding in oriental lands, especially the territories occupied by ancient Assyria, Babylonia, and Egypt, are bringing much valuable and interesting matter to light. We find that the civilisation of these peoples was much older than up to now scholars have believed. The communities inhabiting the land of Canaan, for example, had developed a complex political and commercial organisation long before the Israelitish invasion; Canaan was in fact the highway along which passed the commerce of Egypt with the mighty nations to the north. The painstaking efforts of expert explorers are bringing vast forgotten literatures to light and reconstituting for us the religious ideas and modes of life of these people of the ancient world. One result of these researches has been to prove that Hebrew religious ideas were closely allied to those of other Semitic peoples, and even the way in which they were expressed owed not a little to older civilisations. In nothing was this more clearly the case than with the ideas included afterward in the doctrine of Atonement. The word translated Atonement in our version of the Old Testament scriptures played an important part in the Old Testament sacrificial system, and this again was closely connected with Semitic modes of worship in general. +The Day of Atonement.+--There was one great day in the Jewish religious year called the Day of Atonement, when a special ritual was gone through and special offerings made to God on account of the sins of the people as a whole. The ceremonial was very elaborate and the occasion was observed with great solemnity by the whole nation. As described in the Old Testament the prescriptions for this Day of Atonement, the Good Friday of the Levitical system as it has been called, probably owe a good deal to Babylonian influences. It should be remembered that the outstanding event in later Jewish history was the carrying away of the flower of the nation by Nebuchadnezzar into Babylon, where they remained for more than two generations. It is quite likely that, in spite of their exclusiveness and their hatred of their conquerors, the Jews may have borrowed some of their religious ritual from the Babylonians, but, whether they did or not, the ideas underlying their respective modes of worship were much the same. Primitive religious sacrifice among Semitic peoples appears to have been mainly of a joyous character; worship and sacrifice went hand in hand. The worshippers were accustomed to offer to their gods sacrifices of everything which the votaries themselves valued,--the fruits of the earth, their material possessions, their flocks and herds, the prisoners they had taken in war, and occasionally even the children of their own body. It was only on great and solemn occasions, such as the necessity for staying a pestilence, or averting defeat in war, that the offering of the more terrible kinds of sacrifice was made. It would be instructive, therefore, for us to inquire what were the underlying ideas assumed in Semitic religious sacrifice. +Underlying ideas in Semitic sacrifice. 1. The solidarity of man with God.+--In the first place there was the idea of community of life between the worshipper and his god. It is doubtful how far this can be pressed, but it is clear that in the Semitic mind there was always a conviction that the deity of the clan or tribe was the giver as well as the sustainer of its life. This did not apply to the minor divinities, the demons of wood and stream, but to the tribal deities, the Chemosh of Moab, the Dagon of the Philistines, the Jehovah of Israel. Probably the Philistines were not Semites, but no doubt ancient worship in general took for granted this community of life between any particular people and their deity. In the offering of the best of their possessions to the god the worshippers thought they were rendering to him of his own. As he was at once the giver and the guardian of life, they felt bound to render him the best of the fruits of life. This was a true thought, a principle essential to all true spiritual life, and implied in all spiritual aspiration. The reader will have already seen that it is fundamental to the New Theology. However crude and even repellent some of its expressions may have been in ancient modes of worship, it is the same truth all ages through--the truth that God and man are essentially one. +2. The solidarity of the individual with the community.+--A further idea underlying primitive sacrifice was that of the solidarity of the individual with the community as a whole. In the Chaldean tribes out of which Israel arose personality as we know it had not even emerged. Readers of the Old Testament will not need to be reminded that in the earlier stages of Israel's existence as a people the whole nation was repeatedly said to be punished for the behaviour of individuals, and families perished for the transgression of a father, as in the case of Achan. No particular attention was ever paid to the individual as such. A man had no life of his own, and no value, apart from the life of the community. He belonged to it, not to himself. Hence, when any communal act of worship was performed, when any tribal sacrifice was made to the deity, the organic unity of the individual with the whole was specially emphasised. Physically and spiritually the unit was held to belong to the whole, and to exist for the sake of the whole. Here again we have a great truth, the foundation truth of all morality, and a truth which reaches its highest in the life of Jesus. The deepening of individual self-consciousness, and the increased perception of individual value, have neither weakened nor destroyed it, for it is written in the very constitution of the universe. Mankind is fundamentally one; here is morality. We are individually fulfilled in God; here is religion. These are the cognate ideas underlying all modes of sacrificial worship, ancient or modern. These are the ideas which find elaborate ceremonial expression in the Israelitish Day of Atonement as described in the Old Testament. The main purpose of these observances was the desire to assert as solemnly and emphatically as possible the essential oneness of the community with God, and of every individual with all the rest. Everything which tended to separate between Israel and her God was ceremonially put away on this great occasion. From the religious point of view it was the beginning of a new year. The Babylonian new year began about the same time. It was supposed that a man's good or evil fortune was appointed on new year's day and settled past all possibility of revision on the tenth day after. The intervening nine days were therefore kept as a sort of Lenten season; the tenth day was the grand occasion for the making sure of the harmonious relations of the community with the deity. It will be seen, therefore, that psychologically the idea of Atonement takes precedence of the idea of sin. Most westerners are accustomed to think exactly the reverse, and that is why the various theories of Atonement which have appeared and disappeared in the course of Christian history have so generally obscured the truth. The root principle of Atonement is not that of escaping punishment for transgression, but the assertion of the fundamental oneness of God and man. This may or may not be accompanied by feelings of guilt and contrition, but it is the very marrow of religion. Atonement implies the acting-together of God and man, the subordination of the individual will to the universal will, the fulfilment of the unit in the whole. +Sense of sin not originally essential to atonement.+--It ought to be recognised that in Semitic modes of worship the idea of sin did not originally hold the place it has since come to hold in the Christian consciousness. The Babylonian and the early Israelite were greatly afraid of offending God, but they do not seem to have thought of such a transgression as being morally culpable. The profound sense of sin which characterises so many of the psalms and prophetic writings of the Old Testament was a comparatively late development. The primitive Semites had a markedly anthropomorphic idea of their deities. They thought of any divine being as more or less like an ordinary man and liable to take umbrage at little things. It was even possible to offend him without knowing it, and therefore to be left without protection against the ills of life. It was to make sure of smoothing away all possible misunderstandings that covering sacrifices were offered from time to time; but the offering of these sacrifices did not necessarily mean that the worshipper thought he had done anything to be ashamed of and which required to be put right. He was simply treating his god as he would have treated a powerful earthly patron or potentate, that is, he was apologising for anything he might have done to alienate his favour. This notion of the necessity for placating God is to be found in close association with the worthier spiritual instincts to which I have already referred, and it has not even yet disappeared from our thinking. Unbiassed readers of the Old Testament will find abundant justification for this statement. We are told repeatedly therein that the anger of the Lord was kindled against Israel or against this or that individual, and that the whole community had in consequence to humble itself before Him in order to avert plague, or pestilence, or some other form of general calamity. Not only was Jehovah thought of as a kind of larger man who was at once protector and tyrant to his people, he was but the God of Israel in contradistinction to the gods of other nations, one God out of many. It was only gradually, and after the lapse of ages, that Israelites came to think of their God as the God of the whole earth and a being who must be worshipped in righteousness. Israel was fortunate in possessing what other nations had not in the same degree, a succession of specially inspired men, teachers of moral and spiritual truth called prophets. The best of these--for no doubt the generality of them spoke only the language of their time--earnestly protested against material ideas of sacrifice and inadequate notions about God. They declared that God and the moral ideal were one and that the best way to serve the former was to be true to the latter. True sacrifice, they maintained, was of a spiritual kind and ought never to be thought about in any other sense. Thus in the fifty-first psalm the writer, one of the prophetic school, thus contrasts mere ceremonialism with spiritual worship: Thou desirest not sacrifice, else would I give it; Thou delightest not in burnt offering. The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit. A broken and a contrite heart, O God, Thou wilt not despise. Or take the prophet Micah, chapter vi., verse 6. Here is a reference to human sacrifice, to which the Israelites were prone from time to time, following the example of their neighbours: Wherewith shall I come before the Lord, and bow myself before the Most High God? shall I come before Him with burnt offerings, with calves of a year old? Will the Lord be pleased with thousands of rams, or with ten thousands of rivers of oil? shall I give my firstborn for my transgression, the fruit of my body for the sin of my soul? And the answer of the prophet is: He hath showed thee, O man, what is good; and what doth the Lord require of thee, but to do justly, and to love mercy, and to walk humbly with thy God? Here we have a declaration in unmistakable terms that the moral ideal and the religious ideal are one, and that to worship God properly the worshipper must treat his fellow-men properly. We now get the idea that sin against God is not something into which a man may fall without knowing it, but the living of a selfish life. +Atonement never an equivalent for penalty.+--We ought to recognise too that the sacrifices of the Day of Atonement were never held to secure a complete amnesty for all kinds of sin. If a man committed theft or murder, he had to bear the appropriate penalty of his misdemeanour because he had been guilty of an action directed against the well-being of the community and the community had to take measures to protect itself; the Day of Atonement availed nothing in such a case. Here is where many who see in the Old Testament sacrificial system a type and anticipation of the one perfect sacrifice of Jesus frequently go wide of the facts. The Day of Atonement was a ceremonial and symbolical assertion of the willingness of the individual and the nation to fulfil their true destiny by being at one with God. If some particular man had been so living as to cut himself off from the communal well-being, he had to suffer. +The significance of the blood.+--Many people seem to think that some actual saving efficacy was supposed to attach to the shedding of the blood of the victims offered on the altar of sacrifice, but that never was so. No doubt in the ignorant popular mind material sacrifices came to be looked upon as possessing some virtue in themselves, but the intelligence of the nation never regarded them in this way. In the offering of a victim the worshipper symbolically offered himself. The Semites thought that the life of any organism was in the blood. Thus in Numbers we read, "The life of the flesh is in the blood, and I have given it to you upon the altar to make atonement for your souls, for it is the blood that maketh atonement by reason of the soul (or life)." When, therefore, a man offered the blood of a victim upon the altar, he was symbolically declaring his recognition of the truth that the individual life belongs to the whole and must give or pour itself out to the common life and to God the source of all. Only in this way could individuality realise itself; apart from the whole it was meaningless and valueless. +The truth beneath all sacrifice, however barbarous.+--This helps us to see how, even underneath the most horrible and repellent modes of ancient religious sacrifice, there was something essentially great and noble. When a heathen mother passed her child through the fire to Moloch, did the sacrifice cost her nothing? To be sure it did. It must have been much harder to give her baby than to give herself. She did it because she had been taught to believe that to give one's best and dearest possession for the life of the whole was an action acceptable to God and worthy of our relationship to Him. We have deepened and purified that ideal, but we have not lost it; we never can. As time went on men came to see that there was a higher way of giving the self to the whole than that of immolating a physical life, and a better way of symbolising that offering than by shedding the blood of bulls and goats; but the essential truth beneath all the intricate sacrificial systems of ancient Israel and her neighbours is one that can never perish. To sum up. Atonement is the assertion of the fundamental unity of all existence, the unity of the individual with the race and the race with God. The individual can only realise that unity by sacrificing himself to it. To fulfil the self we must give the self to the All. This is the truth presumed in all ancient ideas of Atonement. The idea of placating a manlike God for offences committed against his dignity has been a concomitant of this perception, even a hindrance to it, but it has never wholly obscured the truth itself. That truth is constant and essential to all religion and morality, and is the coördinating principle to all between them. CHAPTER X THE ATONEMENT +III. The Doctrine in Christian History and Experience+ +Antiquity of the essential truth.+--From what has now been said it will, I hope, be clear that the roots of the Christian doctrine of Atonement lie far back in history, especially Semitic history mediated through the Old Testament, and that its fundamental truth is one with which the world can never dispense; it is both simple and sublime. Nothing worth doing in human history has ever been done apart from it or ever will be. It is no paradox to say that even a morally earnest agnostic believes in the Atonement; at any rate he believes in the all-essential truth without which there would never have been such a thing as a doctrine of Atonement. +No consistent theory in the New Testament.+--But now we come to the consideration of this truth as it has passed over into Christianity. I do not propose to give an accurate and exhaustive analysis of the principal things that have been said about it, from the writings of St. Paul downwards; that would only be wearisome to my readers and lead to no particular result. But if I have succeeded in making clear the psychological necessity for the existence of the idea of Atonement, it will serve us as a guiding principle when we come to consider it in relation to the sacrifice of Jesus. Many exegetes have undertaken to show that the various New Testament writers held one and the same theory of the relation of the death of Jesus to the forgiveness of sins; never was a task more hopeless. The Pauline, Petrine, and Johannine theories, and that of the writer of the epistle to the Hebrews, are not mutually consistent, and Paul is not always consistent with himself. The principal thing they have in common is their belief that the death of Jesus was of vital efficacy in the doing away of sin. The symbolism in which they set forth this truth is borrowed mainly from the Old Testament, and we have already seen what underlay that symbolism even in its earliest use. Old Testament language about sacrifice supplies the mental dialect of the New, and now that we have the key to it we need neither be puzzled nor misled by it. Beneath all that the New Testament writers have to say about the death of Jesus there is the same grand old spiritual truth of Atonement which makes religion possible. Before we resume our examination of the connection between the death of Jesus and the doing away of sin, let us look for a moment at what post-apostolic thought has had to say about it. +The Fathers.+--From the beginning of the second century onwards the Fathers of the church and their theological successors attempted a variety of explanations of the way in which the death of Jesus achieved potentially the redemption of mankind. It is not easy to say just when one period of Christian thought closes and another begins; but, broadly speaking, we can for convenience classify them into the period of the Fathers, the mediaeval period, the Reformation and afterwards up to the eighteenth century, and the period of modern thought. The Fathers may be divided into two groups, the ante-Nicene and the post-Nicene writers, and also into the Greek and Latin Fathers. But as I am not writing for theological students, I will not attempt any further analysis of the various patristic schools. Those who wrote previous to 325 A.D. belong to the ante-Nicene group; those who wrote after that date, to the post-Nicene group. The ante-Nicene writers, generally speaking, avoid giving any theory of the atonement at all; but two of their greatest thinkers, Origen and Irenaeus, held that mankind had fallen under the dominion of Satan, and that Jesus by His sufferings paid a ransom to Satan in order that we might be freed from his power. Post-Nicene Fathers for the most part adopted this view without attempting to justify it. Amongst their statements we find the ideas that the Atonement was a ransom to Satan and also a sacrifice to God, but they offer no explanation of the necessity of either. Later on Augustine anticipated subsequent Christian thought by maintaining that the atoning work of Jesus was part of an eternal purpose. +Anselm and after.+--The scholasticism of the Middle Ages finds its first important expression in the illustrious Anselm, an acute thinker and a beautiful soul. Anselm rejected the idea of a ransom to Satan, declaring that Satan had no rights over humanity; in place of this notion he put forward the theory that Jesus made to God an infinite satisfaction for an infinite debt. According to this theory the majesty of God had suffered indignity because of human sin, and yet man was unable by himself to offer an adequate satisfaction for the offence. Hence the eternal Son of God became man in order that He might offer the only satisfaction that could be considered adequate. This theory did not go unchallenged. Abelard, for example, asked the very reasonable question how the guilt of mankind could be atoned for by the greater guilt of those who put Jesus to death. Abelard's famous opponent, Bernard of Clairvaux, also repudiated Anselm's main contention and fell back upon the theory of a satisfaction to Satan. +Reformation theories.+--At the time of the Reformation the question of the Atonement formed the subject of considerable controversy, and, on the whole, the Reformers were less reasonable than the Catholics, as is the case to some extent even to-day. The Roman Catholic doctrine of Atonement is much nearer to the truth than conventional Protestant statements about the "finished work" and so on. One considerable section of sixteenth-century Protestantism held and taught the doctrine of the total depravity of human nature, and insisted on the idea that Jesus bore the actual penal sufferings of sinners. Calvinists held that these sufferings had value for the elect only. Against these views Socinianism arose as a protest, but tended to reduce the Passion of Jesus to a sort of drama enacted by God in the presence of humanity in order to excite men's contrition and win their love. +The modern lack of a theory.+--Modern evangelical thought has done very little with all these theories except to make them impossible; it has no consistent and reasonable explanation to put in their place. The popular kind of evangelical phraseology is that which continues to represent Jesus as having borne the punishment due to human sin; salvation is spoken of as though it meant deliverance from the post-mortem consequences of misdoing. +More about sin.+--In all these theories it is evident that the death of Jesus is closely connected with the forgiveness of sin and that the forgiveness of sin is the vital element in the Atonement. In order to understand the truth about this let us return to what has already been said on the subject of sin and pursue it a little farther. I have already pointed out that sin is selfishness pure and simple, and that that definition will cover all its manifestations. There is no sin that is not selfishness, there is no selfishness that is not sin. All possible activities of the soul are between selfishness on the one hand and love on the other. If people would only accept this simple explanation of a great subject, it would get rid of most of the confusion of thought that exists in regard to it. The life of love is the life lived for impersonal ends; the sinful life is the life lived for self alone. The life of love is the life which does the best with the self for the sake of the whole; the sinful life is the life which is lived for the self at the expense of the whole. The desire for gratification at some one else's cost, or at the cost of the common life, is the root principle of sin. Sin against God is simply an offence against the common life; it is attempting to draw away from instead of ministering to the common good. The sinful man thinks it will pay him to be selfish; his impulse is to suppose that he can gain more happiness, can drink more deeply of the cup of life, by doing it at the expense of other people. We all do it more or less, and yet the world might have learned by this time that selfishness does _not_ pay; the thoroughly selfish man is an unhappy man, for he has not drawn upon the source of abiding joy. Like love, selfishness is a guest for life, but whereas love obtains more abundant life by freely giving itself, sin loses hold on life by trying to grab and keep it. Every man is seeking life and seeking it in one or other of these opposite ways; he is either fulfilling the self by serving the whole, or he is trying to feed the self by robbing the whole. But life is God, and there is no life which is not God. God is the life all-abundant, the life infinite and eternal, the life that never grows old, the life that is joy. Every man, consciously or subconsciously, wants that life; he is wanting it all the time. Why does the man of business spend so many hours in his office in the effort to make money? It is because money represents power, power that can purchase "more life and fuller." Probably he does not want it all for himself; he works for love of his family or love of the community, and his desire to serve them makes his work gladder, so that already he has more abundant life than he would otherwise possess. Analyse human action, no matter what, and it will be seen to point in one or other of these two directions, self-ward or all-ward. If the former, it will shrivel the soul, it makes for death; if the latter, it will expand the soul, it makes for life. This is a spiritual law which knows no exception; in the long run the loving deed brings larger life and joy, the selfish deed brings pain and darkness. "Be not deceived, God is not mocked; whatsoever a man soweth that shall he also reap. He that soweth to the flesh shall of the flesh reap corruption, but he that soweth to the spirit shall of the spirit reap eternal life." It is evident from the foregoing that even the sinful life is a quest for God, although it does not know itself to be such, for in seeking life saint and sinner alike are seeking God, the all-embracing life. And the sinner _must_ learn that to seek life selfishly is to lose it; to seek it unselfishly is both to gain and to give it. The good man and the bad man are seeking the same thing in opposite ways. During the recent New Theology controversy the editor of the _British Weekly_, in the course of an attack upon my teaching, printed a number of extracts from my sermons in order to convince his readers that that teaching was objectionable and false. In every case the extract was carefully removed from its context and therefore conveyed quite a misleading impression to the mind of the reader. One of these extracts was from a sermon on "More Abundant Life," preached in the City Temple on Sunday morning, March 18, 1906. As this extract has been widely circulated, perhaps I may be pardoned for giving it here along with the context. All that the editor chose to print was a part of the paragraph in which sin was described as a quest for God, and yet he must have known perfectly well that to take that paragraph out of its setting was to do an injustice both to the preacher and to the subject. Observe the sharp antithesis between the "thief or the robber" on the one hand, and the "Good Shepherd" on the other. These two stand for two opposing tendencies that have run through all nature and all human life. All nature through, all history through, two conflicting tendencies have been discernible. These are ever at war, and they ever will be until the whole world has been subdued to Christ, and is filled with the fulness of the life of God. These two tendencies we may describe as the deathward and the lifeward respectively. The words are not very satisfactory because the deathward tendency masquerades as the lifeward tendency, and the lifeward tendency, before fruition, looks like the deathward one. In nature, as Romans viii. tells us, "We know that the whole creation groaneth and travaileth in pain together until now." Nature is cruel, "red in tooth and claw." The deathward tendency is what I may call the self-ward tendency in the upward struggle of all organic forms, that is, one organism only exists at the expense of other organisms. Yet at a certain stage in evolution this principle of the survival of the fittest at the expense of the rest gives way to a counter principle, that of the fitting of as many as possible to survive. The thief tendency gives way to the shepherd tendency, self-love to mother-love, the struggle to survive to the struggle for the life of others. I do not pause at the moment to account for these two antithetic tendencies, there they are; all through the history of this sad old world of ours these two tendencies have been in sharp conflict. Both are cosmic, both probably resolvable in that higher unity which is too mysterious for us to penetrate, but to our minds they are in flagrant opposition to each other. The thief cometh to steal and to kill and to destroy; mother-love, Christ-love, that it may give life, and that more abundantly. In human history the antithesis is even more plainly marked. From one point of view, history is little else than the story of the crimes and follies of mankind. If it were entirely that, the study would be too saddening to enter upon; but it is not all of that character, and yet it is sufficiently so to cast a shadow over the optimism of any man who investigates human evolution as told in song and story. The principle that "they should take who have the power, and they should keep who can" has ruled in human concerns from the dawn of history until to-day. It is strong enough in our midst even now. Out industrial system is founded upon it, and is essentially unchristian. Commercialism is saturated with it; all men suffer from it, but often they know not how to get free from it. Ruskin has a grimly amusing paragraph on the parallel between an earlier civilisation and that of to-day, and the identity in principle of the self-ward tendency in both. In mediaeval times, as he would say, the robber baron was wont to possess himself of a mountain fortress, whence he swooped down upon hapless passers-by to rob them of their possessions and their lives. To-day the successful financial magnate does the same by effecting corners in corn and such like. The great writer adds, with characteristic irony, "I prefer the crag baron to the bag baron." Yet with all this we see at work in history another tendency which we can recognise as plainly as the former, but which fills us with great hope for the future of humanity,--it is that which is summed up in the one word "Christ." That word stands all the world over for the things that make for more abundant life. Just as in the text the word "thief" stands for everything that makes for separateness, selfhood, cruelty, so the word "Christ" stands for everything that makes for union, mutual helpfulness, brotherly kindness. The thief stands for the tendency to grasp and draw inward, and the Christ stands for the tendency to give, and live outward. The former tendency is what I call the deathward--deathward for all else but itself; and the Christ is the lifeward, life for all else but itself. Yet--curious inversion of earlier experience--the deathward tendency results in death to itself in the spiritual region, and the lifeward tendency results in life to him who gives life. "I have power to lay it down, and I have power to take it again." I want you to realise here, then, that the Christ in humanity is the life-giver of the soul. They who are possessed of the Christ spirit are they who have and can give the more abundant life. We have briefly examined the two tendencies of which I have spoken; have you realised that in the things of the spirit the deathward tendency is what we call sin? Sin is selfishness; it is the attempt to misuse the energies of God; it is the expansion of individuality at the expense of the race. I do not know that you can arrive at a much more thorough explanation of the nature of sin than that. Men blunderingly attempt to classify virtues, and think of sin as simply the failure to attain them. It is not that, it is something deeper; sin is the attempt to minister to self at the expense of that which is outside self. It lives by death to others, or seeks to do so. When I was away a few weeks ago I paid a visit to Monte Carlo to see what it was like, and went into the famous gambling saloon, and stood for a while looking at the faces of the players. I could not see anything very different from what I see now; the people who were engaged in that all-engrossing pursuit might have been in church, they were so quiet, so orderly, and so apparently passionless. Yet I felt--it may have been a preacher's prejudice--that the moral atmosphere of that place was one in which I did not want to remain; there was something bad there, and I think I could discern what it was. The gambler is essentially a man who is trying to get something for nothing; he is drawing to himself that which he supposes will give him more satisfying and abundant life. Let who will suffer; it is not his concern. What is lifeward for him may be deathward for them; he is willing that it should be so--that is the sin. Sin is always a mistake,--a soul's mistake; it is the carrying up into the spiritual region of that stern and terrible law of the physical world, the survival of an organism at the expense of its fellow. That law is reversed in the spiritual world; it is replaced by something else. If a soul is to gain more abundant life, it must rise above the desire to grasp and hold. The gambler is selling that beautiful thing which came fresh from the hand of God, and is at once God's life and his; he is destroying the present possibility of attaining to that higher life which is the destiny of the soul. The Christ in him can find no expression. And yet, my friends, realise this, however startling it may seem, sin itself is a quest for God--a blundering quest, but a quest for all that. The man who got dead drunk last night did so because of the impulse within him to break through the barriers of his limitations, to express himself, and to realise more abundant life. His self-indulgence just came to that; he wanted if only for a brief hour to live the larger life, to expand the soul, to enter untrodden regions, and gather to himself new experience. That drunken debauch was a quest for life, a quest for God. Men in their sinful follies to-day, and their blank atheism, and their foul blasphemies, their trampling upon things that are beautiful and good, are engaged in this dim, blundering quest for God, whom to know is life eternal. The _roué_ you saw in Piccadilly last night, who went out to corrupt innocence and to wallow in filthiness of the flesh, was engaged in his blundering quest for God. He is looking for Him along the line of the wrong tendency; he has been gathering to himself what he took to be more abundant life, "but sin, when it hath conceived bringeth forth death"--death to the sinner as well as to his victim, death of what is deepest and truest in the soul. Yet--I repeat it--all men are seeking life, life more abundant, even in their selfishness and wrong-doing, seeking life by the deathward road. "Whatever crazy sorrow saith, No life that breathes with human breath Has ever truly longed for death. 'Tis life, whereof our nerves are scant, O life, not death, for which we pant, More life and fuller than I want." On the following Sunday I preached a sermon entitled the "Nature of Sin," in which the same point was reëmphasised with even greater distinctness, as the following extract will show:-- I think I startled some of you last Sunday morning when I happened to remark that sin was, after all, a quest for God--a mistaken quest, but none the less a quest for God, for all that. I want to explain to you to-night somewhat more in detail what I mean by this, because the more clearly we can see the truth the more clearly we can perceive sin to be a soul's blunder. There are two tendencies discernible throughout nature and in human history. These two tendencies are essentially opposed, are ever in conflict, and ever will be until the whole world is subdued to Christ, and God is all in all. I called them last Sunday morning from the pulpit the deathward and the lifeward respectively. The terms are not very satisfactory, because the deathward tendency usually masquerades as the lifeward, and the lifeward often looks like the deathward. That is why sin is ever possible. A man thinks to get something by it, and though he finds out his mistake afterward, yet he supposes it to be for him the lifeward road. On the other hand, the utterly unselfish deed often looks as though it were a deed that would bring destruction upon the doer. Not so. Jesus Christ saw right to the heart of things when He said, "He that loveth his life shall lose it, and he that loseth his life for My sake the same shall find it." If you substitute for the words "for My sake," "for truth's sake," or "for life's sake," you will get just the same meaning,--"he that keeps back his life shall lose it, and he that gives forth his life shall find it." Here, then, are two tendencies sharply contrasted. Now observe their operation in nature and in human experience. You are all aware of, and frequently have been saddened, no doubt, by what you regard as the cruelty of nature. There is a tragedy under every rose leaf, there is unceasing conflict to the death going on in every hedgerow. Nature is indeed cruel. I have often watched, during this winter which is now drawing to a close, the little birds feeding outside the window of my breakfast room in the morning. Like many of you, we put out a few crumbs for these feathered friends who share the same garden with ourselves, and I have always noticed that there is a battle royal fought round those crumbs. There is enough for everyone, and yet the instinct of these little creatures is to try and grab and keep all, each one for itself. The instinct of the lower creation appears to be that a form can only preserve itself, and only expand and express itself, at the expense of other forms. It is a stern and terrible law, as you well know. Forms, by a slow, upward progress in the unfolding of the purpose to which nature exists, have become what they are at the expense of earlier and weaker forms. There is a tendency to grasp and hold, a tendency to kill and to destroy, and this, to some minds, appears to be the strongest tendency in nature or in man. I question it,--in fact, I deny it,--and I want that you and I should arrive at the same conclusion respecting it. For there is another tendency observable working from the very earliest throughout the processes of nature, too. It is that which Henry Drummond describes as the struggle for the life of others. If you like, we will call it mother-love. I saw it illustrated only yesterday. A mother sheep, standing in her place amongst the flock, was surprised with the rest at the incursion of a mongrel dog. The flock fled instantly, but the ordinarily timid mother stood her ground. The reason was not far to seek. There was a little lamb cowering behind her, and she, overcoming her natural instinct of self-preservation, turned her face to the dog to draw his attention, if possible, to herself and deflect it from her young one. Now, that instinct represents the tendency of which I speak, the antithetic tendency to the other already described. It is the stronger of the two. It indicates the goal toward which nature herself is moving. "The whole creation groaneth and travaileth in pain together until now," but mother-love is a prophecy of a higher yet to be. It is the forth-going instinct, the all-ward, lifeward tendency. Now turn to humanity. I think you will agree with me that right through human history the same two tendencies are observable. The farther back we go, the stronger seems the self-ward tendency. The natural state of uncivilised man is a state of war. Man in primitive communities only exists and flourishes by destroying other communities. A most curious thing it is, too, that apparently our domestic and civic virtues have grown out of this state of war. A man used to carry his wife off by main force. She become his property. He exerted his brute force, he magnified his own personality, as it were, in crushing other personalities. His children were in his hands for life and death. If he afterwards learned to love them, it was in contradistinction to the children that were not his. That which was his, so to speak, gratified his egotism; and, although a more beautiful relationship grew out of it, such was the unpromising beginning. To-day when you hear a man speaking loudly about "_my_ country," or "_my_ family," or "_my_ society," as the case may be, you may be perfectly sure that he is projecting himself into his patriotism, or into his loyalty to family or society; and indeed this was the lowly beginning of what has come to be an excellent virtue. We have had to learn benevolence by concentrating unselfish attention upon the few rather than the many. The farther back you go in history, the sterner does the operation of that law appear, and the less promising the future of mankind. If people tell me the world is not getting better, I suggest that it might be worth their while to read a chapter of mediaeval or primitive history. In the "Odyssey," for instance, Homer sketches for us the career of a strong and remarkable man. His hero, supposed to be a paragon of virtue, is capable of things you would call scoundrelism to-day. He and his band of storm-tossed companions land upon an island of the Grecian Archipelago and find a city there. They promptly sack it and kill all the inhabitants--men, women, and children. It seemed to be the proper thing to do, and found its way into verse, and they boasted about such heroic exploits. It was brutal murder, and the men who were capable of it were nothing more or less than pirates. Yet that stern, terrible tendency thus illustrated is just one with that inscrutable law under which nature herself has come to be what she is. It is what I call the self-ward tendency, the desire to grasp and keep at the expense of other individualities other societies than our own. But in history, and from those very earliest times down to our own, another tendency has shown itself at work, a counter tendency. The two have been so intertwined frequently--as I have indicated in showing where patriotism comes from--that it has been difficult to dissociate them; but they are quite distinct. Take, for instance, the magnificent devotion of Arnold von Winkelried on the field of Sempach. Switzerland has not existed as a political unit for many centuries, but during that time her roll of heroes has been large. In the formative hour of Swiss independence, when that tiny folk were struggling for their liberty against the overweening power of Austria, it must have seemed a hopeless undertaking--this group of mountaineers against the chivalry of an empire. The great battle of Sempach was fought. The Swiss, armed with nothing but their battle-axes, hurled themselves in vain all day long against the serried ranks of Austrian mail-clad warriors, armed with spears, through which the shepherd men could make no way. They fell before them, but could not pass through them, till Winkelried called to his countrymen, "Provide for my wife and children and I will make a way," and, rushing unarmed upon the spearmen of Austria, clasped in his embrace as many of them as he could and bore them to the earth. A dozen spears passed through his body, but through the gap his devotion had made, his countrymen leaped to victory. That one act made possible, humanly speaking, the Swiss independence, which is an object-lesson for us to-day. Such acts as these form part of the cherished lore of nations. We feel they are the light-centres of the world. Something tells us that an act like that, the giving of a life for the sake of an ideal, a cause, a country, was a great thing. It represented the counter tendency to what was going on at that moment. In that very battle Austria was trying to grasp and hold, Switzerland was trying to get free and live her own life, and here was a man who, for the sake of his country's ideal, gave all that he had--his life. Will you tell me where to look for the focus and centre of that ideal? I know what your answer would be. It was at Calvary. The one thing which, consciously or subconsciously, men have recognised in Jesus that has given Him His supreme attraction for the world, is this--He was absolutely disinterested. It is the disinterestedness of Jesus, His utter nobleness, His power of projecting Himself into the experience of others, and trying to lift humanity as a whole to His experience of God, that gave Him His power with mankind. Jesus not only proclaimed, but lived, the counter tendency to the law of sin and death. Now, when we have brought the two together, you see the essential distinction between working for self and its deathward look, and working for all with its lifeward gaze. These two are antithetic, and must be in opposition until the latter absorbs the former, and God is all in all, and love reigneth world without end. We are now able to see what sin is more plainly than before. Sin is the tendency to grasp and draw inward, and everything that feeds that tendency makes for death. Sin is the expansion of the individuality at the expense of the race; sin is acting on the belief that the soul can increase at another's cost, can increase by destroying what is another's good. Apply that explanation or definition of sin to what you know about life, and you will soon see when a man is facing the deathward road, and how differently he acts when he is choosing the lifeward road. There are men in this congregation who do not realise, as they should, that lifewardness is God-wardness; but so it is. The soul and the source of all things is God, and, consciously or unconsciously, all men are seeking God in that they are seeking self-expression, seeking life. The man, for instance, who is trying to become rich is a man who is seeking to express himself, seeking power, seeking life, seeking to thrust through the barriers that surround the soul. They are all doing it; the veriest materialist among you is seeking by his daily activities more abundant life. The young man here who feels a burning ambition within his heart, a desire to exploit the world and make a name for himself, to occupy a high station, is not conscious of anything essentially unworthy. It all depends on what he does with the impulse. What you are seeking, young man, is more abundant life, and that is equivalent to seeking God. Life is God. "Every good and every perfect gift is from above, and cometh down from the Father of lights." And when the tendency goes round and works havoc and ruin in the world, it still remains a quest for God, although a blundering one. It is a misuse of divine energy. The man who got drunk last night and gratified his lower nature in that delirious hour would be surprised if you were to tell him when you see the result that he was really seeking God, but so it is. He wants life, and thinks he can get it this way. This is the reason why morbid excitement and the craving for amusement have such power in human lives to-day. Your _roué_ in Piccadilly who went out to destroy innocence was seeking life while spreading death. It seems almost blasphemy to say it, but he was seeking God and thinking--O woful blunder!--that he would find Him by destroying something that God has made beautiful and fair. So with all acts of selfish gratification of which men are capable--they are the turning of the current of divine energy the wrong way, and seeking self-gratification at the expense of something else that God has made. It is a failure to see that we only obtain life by giving life. When an engine goes off the line there is a smash, as a rule, and the greater the power that was driving the engine, the worse is the wreck when it leaves the line. The lightning directed rightly becomes the luminant by which we look on each other's faces to-night. That same power might have brought havoc and destruction if it had not been harnessed in the service of man. And so with the power that God has given you; all desire for self-expression, all seeking of which you are conscious for larger and better and richer life, is God-given; but it may mean ruin and destruction unless you see that it is yours, not that you may draw inward, but that you may give outward, yours not to keep and hold, but yours wherewith to bless mankind. Sin is the tendency to keep for self that which was meant for the world. "The wages of sin is death," the death of soul. He who is guilty of sin is guilty of soul murder. "All they that hate Me love death," and he that spreads pain and ruin over other lives in the gratification of his own lower instincts is using something which is God-given--yea, which is essentially God's own life--in the wrong way. The only hope for him is to realise that no act of sin was ever yet worth while, that it does punish itself, must punish itself, for it shrivels and fetters the soul. No eleventh-hour repentance will ever save you, and no cowardly cry for relief will ever bring God's forgiveness into your soul, until you have realised that sin and selfishness are one, and that what you have failed to give forth of love and service represents the measure of your soul poverty. Even at the risk of prolixity and repetition I have thought it right to insert these lengthy extracts from sermons which have been animadverted upon. My readers will be able to judge of the fairness of the criticism which, by abstracting a few lines, strove to make it appear that my teaching denied the reality of sin. Here are the actual words seen in their proper setting. If one were on the lookout for a good illustration of the sinfulness of sin, perhaps the controversial methods of the editor of the _British Weekly_ might furnish it. This kind of criticism is on a par with that of the gentleman who once startled an audience by declaring, "The Bible says there is no God." He was right, of course, if it be legitimate to suppress the former part of the passage, "The fool hath said in his heart there is no God." It is time we had done with unreal talk about sin. Sin is the murder spirit in human experience. "Whosoever hateth his brother is a murderer. If a man say, I love God, and hateth his brother, he is a liar: for he that loveth not his brother whom he hath seen, how can he love God whom he hath not seen?" Strong language, but I suppose the man who first used it must have known what he was talking about. Pomposity is sin, because it is egoism; self-complacency and contemptuousness are sin for the same reason. Cupidity is sin whether in a burglar or a Doctor of Divinity. A bitter, grasping, cruel, unsympathetic spirit is sin, no matter who shows it. The scribe and the Pharisee are too much with us, and the religious ideal needs to be rescued from their blighting grasp to-day as much as ever it did. Of all forms of sin an arrogant, malignant, self-satisfied assumption of righteousness is the worst and the hardest to eradicate, as Jesus found to His cost. The terrible damning lie which is stifling religion to-day is the lie which crucified Jesus, the lie that spiritual pride can ever interpret God to a needy world. There is something grimly amusing in the suggestion that prosperous people should pay for sending gospel missions to the poor. If sin is selfishness, the poor had better missionise the rich. Imagine how it would be if things were reversed in this way, and a mission band of earnest slum dwellers took their stand in Belgravia and began a house-to-house visitation, with all the theological terms carefully eliminated from the mission leaflets they thrust under the doors or handed to the powdered footmen. Instead of, "Flee from the wrath to come," etc., they might have: "Don't be selfish! it is hurting you and your neighbours and making you unhappy. Don't pretend! It is poor business in the end. Try to do as much as you can for other people and you will know what God is." The attempt would be startling and unwelcome, but it would be far less impudent than the religious exhortations of the prosperous to the poor commonly are. For the truth is that if sin is selfishness,--and it is nothing else,--the degraded habits of people at the lower end of the social scale are no more sinful than the ordinary behaviour of most of their preceptors at the other end. Most of the talk about sin is unreal; that is the trouble; so verily the publicans and harlots go into the kingdom of heaven before us. In church a man will profess himself to be a miserable sinner, but if we were to address him in the same way out of church he would sue us for libel--if he thought we meant it. For heaven's sake let us have done with the sham of it all and face the truth. What mankind is suffering from is selfishness. Get rid of that and there would be little left to trouble about. +Atonement and sin.+--It should now be plain why the doctrine of Atonement has been so closely associated with the doing away of sin; it is because, as we have seen, the root idea of Atonement is the assertion of the fundamental oneness of man with man and all with God. Sin is the divisive separating thing in our relations with one another, and with God the source of all, so the assertion of our oneness involves getting rid of sin. If we ask how this is to be done, the answer is simple enough: the only way to get rid of selfishness is by the ministry of love. What is it that is slowly winning the world from its selfishness to-day and lifting it gradually into the higher, purer atmosphere of universal love? There is but one thing that is doing it, and that is the spirit of self-sacrifice. Wherever you see that, you see the true Atonement at work. There can be no doubt about the final issue, for behind the spirit of love is infinity, whereas the spirit of selfishness is essentially finite. On the field of human history the death of Jesus is the focus and concentrated essence of this age-long atoning process, whereby selfishness is being overcome and the whole race lifted up to its home in God. Until Jesus came no self-offering had been so consistent and so complete. No selfish desire could find lodgment in His pure soul. He showed men the ideal life by living it Himself, the life which was perfectly at one with God and man. In a selfish world that life was sure to end on a Calvary of some kind, but the very fact that it did so demonstrated the completeness of its victory over all considerations of self-interest. Selfishness lost the battle by seeming to gain it. God was behind the life of Jesus just because it was the life of perfect love, the life which was a perfect gift to the whole, therefore that life immediately arose in power in other lives and has gone increasing its benevolent sway over human hearts ever since. This is the Atonement and it is rightly associated with the cross of Jesus in the minds of men, for the cross is the sum and centre of it all. +The increasing Atonement.+--But the Atonement to be effective has to be repeated on the altar of human hearts, and so it is, to a far greater extent than most people stop to think. The same spirit that was in Jesus and governed His whole career was the spirit of the true humanity, "The light that lighteth every man that cometh into the world." The spirit of Jesus was the spirit of Christ, the ideal or divine manhood as it exists eternally in God. But that ideal or divine manhood, that Christ nature, is also potentially present in every human being. What needs to be done is to get it manifested or brought forth into conscious activity. The immediate effect of the life and death of Jesus upon His followers was to make them more or less like Him, and to fill them with a similar desire to get men to live the life of love which is the life of God. They felt themselves inspired by the same spirit, the Holy Spirit of truth and love, and exalted above all fear for their own safety and all desire to live for themselves alone. They loved their Lord so much that their lives became one with His in the work of saving the world. They could see no difference between serving their Master and serving mankind. This love force of theirs, this intense loyalty to Jesus, was, and still is, the redeeming thing in the life of mankind. There is not and never has been any other Atonement. The divine power that is breaking down selfishness, and transforming human desires in accordance with the eternal truth of things, is the spirit of self-sacrificing love. It is but a step from sinner to saviour. To cease to be a sinner is perforce to be a saviour. To escape from the dominion of selfishness is forthwith to become a power in the hand of God for the uplifting and ingathering of mankind to Himself; this is the Atonement. Ask yourself whether this is not so. What other force for good is there in the world to-day than the spirit which governed the whole life of Jesus and rendered Him willing to brave the worst that evil could do in His desire to get men to realise the true life? There is no other. If you want to see the Atonement at work, go wherever love is ministering to human necessity and you see the very same spirit which was in Jesus, the spirit which heals and saves. Dogma is doing nothing to save the world; the gospel of self-sacrifice is doing everything. Show me a Christlike life and I will show you a part of the Atonement of Christ. Show me a noble deed and I will show you something worthy of Jesus. His self-offering, and the love and devotion it awoke in human hearts, are a perpetual sacrifice, a cumulative assertion that in the presence of need love can never do anything other than give itself until the need is supplied and love is all in all. There is even a possibility of substitution here. Vicarious suffering willingly accepted becomes irresistible in the long run as a means of lifting a transgressor out of the mire of selfishness. Many a noble wife has saved her husband by remaining at his side and patiently accepting the disabilities caused by his wrong-doing. It is even possible in such a case for the saviour to bear more than the sinner, and for the sinner to be relieved of some of the consequences of his sin; he would have to suffer more if there were no loving helper to stand by him. But to speak of one as bearing another's punishment is untrue; such a thing cannot be. All that love can do is to share to the uttermost in the painful consequences of sin and by so doing break their power What other Atonement is needed than this? It requires no defence, and a child could understand it. Everyone already believes in it, whether he stops to think about it or not. While I am writing these words a fierce storm is raging outside. This is the second day we have had of it, and there seems likely to be some loss of life on the dangerous rocks outside the bar which forms the entrance to the bay below. A visitor has just been telling me of a wilder storm in this same bay some years ago, and of which he says to-day's gale reminds him. On that previous occasion three ships were wrecked together within a few yards of this house. It must have been a dreadful, awe-inspiring scene. No boat could live on the surf, so every survivor had to be dragged ashore with ropes fastened to the cliffs and hauled by willing hands. Hundreds of townspeople and fisher folk came pouring over from St. Ives and all the hamlets round about in order to take part in the work of rescue. According to my informant the scene was enough to stir any heart, and even grown men were crying with excitement and compassion as some of the poor fellows in the rigging of the doomed vessels were washed away before they could be got ashore. The few who were actually snatched from the jaws of death found no lack of willing helpers as one by one they were passed insensible into the kind keeping of the many who stood waiting for an opportunity to be of service. No one grudged anything; every home and every bed would have been cheerfully placed at the disposal of the shipwrecked mariners if they had been wanted. Brave women, the wives and daughters of men who were risking their lives on the sea every day, willingly encouraged their husbands and sons in battling against the tempest in the endeavour to save other husbands and sons whom they had never seen or heard of until that hour of distress and need. And what a fight it was to be sure! Never was a braver. Again and again these humble Cornish heroes dashed into the raging billows to grasp and guide the ropes that bore a flickering human life, and every time they returned with their helpless burden a cheer went up from the watchers that drowned for a moment the violence of the blast. No one thought of enquiring into the theology of saviours or survivors. No doubt there were some among the former who were oftener to be found at the public-house bar than at church, but no one could have distinguished them from the orthodox Christians who fought the waves shoulder to shoulder beside them; they were there to save life, and in doing so their deeper manhood shone out with divine splendour. But the most of the rescuers were good sound, earnest Methodists who perhaps believed, or thought they believed, in the eternal damnation of the unregenerate. But what became of their doctrine in the face of an urgent human need and the call for self-sacrifice to supply that need? It was utterly forgotten. There is both humour and pathos in the fact that these convinced believers tugged and tore at the ropes, and freely jeopardised their own lives in a magnificent endeavour to save perishing bodies from temporal water. There is the truth for you, the real Atonement. The heart creed is usually better than the head creed, and in great moments buries the latter out of sight. Here was the spirit of Christ, the true and eternal manhood, the spirit that seeks to save at its own cost. Here was the instinctive perception of the fundamental oneness of all life and the recognition that the godlike thing is to seek to deliver life from the clutch of death. +All men instinctively believe in the Atonement.+--This is the deepest and truest impulse of the human heart, as all men already know if they would only trust their better nature to tell them what God wants from his children. Here is an explosion in a coal-mine, and forthwith every mother's son above ground volunteers to go down into the choke-damp to snatch his buried comrades from the sleep of death. A few months ago one such disaster took place in a Durham colliery. Most of my readers will remember that in the newspaper reports of the incidents that took place at the pit mouth were the following: A father who was brought to the surface was asked whether he lost hope during the long hours of his imprisonment below without food or light. "No," was the reply, "for I knew my boy would be in the rescue party, and that nothing would turn him back until he found his father, dead or alive." The suffragan bishop of the diocese, along with a number of other clergymen and nonconformist ministers, remained all night amid the scene of sorrow at the pit mouth, doing his best to comfort the mourners as their loved ones were brought up dead. As morning broke he mounted a heap of cinders and, without making any attempt to conceal his emotion, spoke a few manly words of brotherly exhortation and Christian love to his deeply moved congregation of toilers and sufferers. One poor woman, with unconscious irony, exclaimed to the bystanders: "He doesn't seem like a bishop! He is just like one of ourselves." That servant of God has never preached the Atonement more effectually in all his life--by getting together of man and man, and man and God, through the spirit of self-sacrifice. He stands in the true apostolic succession, the succession of men like Saul of Tarsus, the erstwhile persecutor, who, under the inspiration of the love of Jesus, lived to say, "Who is weak and I am not weak? Who is offended and I burn not?" Go into any home where the spirit of self-sacrificing love is trying to do anything to supply a need or save a transgressor, and you see the Atonement. Follow that Salvation lassie to the slums, and listen to her as she tries to persuade a drunken husband and father to give up the soul-destroying habit which is such a curse to wife and child, and you see the Atonement. Go with J. Keir Hardie to the House of Commons and listen to his pleading for justice to his order and you see the Atonement. Hear the prayer of mother-love for the erring, wandering son, and you have the Atonement. See that grey-haired father patiently pleading with selfish, hot-headed youth, or yielding up his own hard-won possessions to pay the gambler's debts and save the family name, and you have the Atonement. Nothing can stir the human heart so much. All the great deeds of history derived their inspiration from it; all the little heroisms of our common everyday life are the declaration of it. There is not a single one of all our thoughts and activities but has some relation to it; we are either living for ourselves individually and separately or we are living for the whole. If the former, we are the servants of sin; if the latter, our lives are already part of the Atonement. +Jesus and the Atonement.+--It is easy to see how much the world owes to Jesus in this regard. I cannot tell what the world might have been if there had never been a Jesus, but certain it is that the sacrificial life and death of Jesus have meant the inpouring of a spirit into human affairs such as had never been known in the same degree before. Here for the first time men saw a perfect manifestation of the life that is life indeed, the life that pleased not itself, the life that entered into and shared human disabilities as though they were its very own, the life that in the presence of selfishness must inevitably become sacrifice, the life of Atonement. In a sinful world that life had to come to a Calvary, but in so doing in refusing to shield and save itself it became the greatest moral power and the greatest revelation of God that the world has ever known. What we succeed in doing some of the time, Jesus did all the time; when all men are able to do it all the time the Atonement will have become complete and love divine shall be all in all. "Thou hast conquered, O Galilean!" cried Julian the apostate; and Christian faith can reverently add-- "Jesus is worthy to receive Honour and power divine; And blessings more than we can give Be, Lord, forever thine." Faith in Jesus is faith in the Atonement and faith in our own Christhood. It means the upraising of the true life, the eternal life, within our own souls. Until His spirit becomes our spirit, His Atonement has done nothing for us, and when it does we, like Him, become saviours of the race. It must be so, for the spirit of love is the same both in God and man; in the presence of need, no matter what the need may be, that spirit must continue to give itself without stint until the need is supplied and all that would tend to separate between the individual soul and the eternal perfect whole is done away. But then, someone will say, what has the death of Jesus effected in the unseen so as to make it possible for God to forgive us? Nothing whatever, and nothing was ever needed. God is not a fiend but a Father, the source and sustenance of our being and the goal of all our aspirations. Why should we require to be saved from Him? +Divine satisfaction in Atonement.+--But in what sense is the death of Jesus a satisfaction to the Father? In no sense at all, except that the sacrifice of Jesus is the highest expression of the innermost of God that has ever been made. If it affords an artist satisfaction to express himself in a beautiful picture, or a great thinker to express his noble thought in a book, surely the highest satisfaction that God can know must be his self-expression in the self-sacrifice of his children. At its best, the intensest joy that can be known is the joy of giving one's self for the good of the whole. In everything grand and good in human thought and achievement God is doing just this. It is the satisfaction he receives from the Atonement and the only one. CHAPTER XI THE AUTHORITY OF SCRIPTURE +Atonement and New Testament language.+--It will have been observed that in my examination of the subject of the Atonement I have said almost nothing about the New Testament evidence for the doctrine. This, I admit, is an entire departure from the method usually followed by those who write upon it, and may be thought by some to vitiate my whole argument. But the omission is of set purpose, for I am convinced that New Testament language about the Atonement, especially the language of St. Paul, has been, and still is, the prolific source of most of the mischievous misinterpretations of it which exist in the religious mind. To an extent this is the same with the Old Testament, but to a far less degree, for the language of the Old Testament is only liable to misapprehension when interpreted by the New. In a previous chapter I have endeavoured to show the imperishable truths which underlie Old Testament symbolism in regard to the Atonement, and I trust I have shown that these truths are as fresh and indispensable to-day, and play as great a part in human affairs as they ever did. But before I proceed to say anything about the New Testament symbolism, which has been largely derived from the Old, let us consider the question of the authority of scripture as a whole. +Tendency to bow to external authority.+--There is always a tendency in the ordinary mind to rely upon some form of external authority in religious as in other matters. With one man it is the authority of an infallible church; with another the authority of an infallible book; with another the authority of some infallible statement of belief which ought to hold good for all time, but never does. At the best, external authority is only a crutch, and at the worst it may become a rigid fetter upon the expanding soul. The true seat of authority is within, not without, the human soul. We are so constituted as to be able to recognise, little by little, the truth of God as it comes to us. It may come from any one of a thousand different quarters, but to be recognised and felt as truth it must awaken an echo within the individual soul. If it does not awaken such a response, it is of no effect so far as the growth of the soul is concerned. What is true in this book will not be received as true by the readers merely because I say it, but because they feel it to be true and cannot get away from it. Why should we be afraid of trusting the human soul to recognise and respond to its own truth? All truth is one, and all earnest truth-seekers are converging upon one goal. It is the divine self within everyone of us which enables us to discern the truth best fitted to our needs, and this divine self is, as has already been pointed out, fundamentally one with the source of all truth, which is God. If men could only come to see this more clearly and to trust their own divine nature to enable them to follow and express the truth as well as to receive it, they would not suffer themselves to be hampered by formal and literal statements of belief whether in the church, the Bible, or anywhere else. But this is what they seldom do. Your devout Anglican or Roman Catholic will tell you that the church teaches this or the church teaches that: as though that fact ever permanently settled anything. One cannot really begin to appreciate the value of united continuous church testimony until one is able to stand apart from it, so to speak, and ask whether it rings true to the reason and the moral sense. Suppose the Christian church enjoined or permitted rape and murder, would the devout Catholic believe and obey? "But it is inconceivable that the church could ever do that," he might answer. Yes, but suppose it did, would he obey? If not, why not? He would not obey because he would know quite well that the higher law within his heart would forbid and render impossible any such obedience. That is all the answer I want. Why should we not apply it all the way round? The real test of truth is to be found in the response it awakens within the soul. +The supposed authority of the letter a great hindrance to truth.+--Now one of the greatest stumbling-blocks in the way of many devout and intelligent minds to-day is that of the supposed binding authority of the letter of scripture. When a good man hears some inspiring or common-sense statement of truth,--for instance, that of universal salvation,--he often replies in some such way as the following: "Yes, I know it seems very plausible, and my heart desires to believe it; but then, you know, it says in the scripture, 'These shall go away into everlasting punishment, but the righteousness into life eternal.' I cannot get behind that." He will go on stringing together, passage after passage, often without the slightest suspicion that the original meaning had nothing whatever to do with the subject under discussion; as, for example, that well-known sentence in Ezekiel, "The soul that sinneth, it shall die." Whatever Ezekiel originally meant by that saying,--and it is well worth examination,--he was not thinking of a modern revival meeting. The plain, average, level-headed business man of religious temperament will sometimes bother himself in this way until he thinks of giving up religion altogether. The letter of scripture often seems to say one thing and the Christlike human heart another. Take, as one example out of many, that pungent passage in Psalm cxxxvii, "Happy shall he be that taketh and dasheth thy little ones against the stones." That passage does not breathe the spirit of Jesus, nor is it true to the best in human nature; no follower of Jesus wants to see a little one dashed against a stone. But even to do justice to a passage of this kind we have to get into intellectual and moral sympathy with the man who wrote it. It was written by one of the poor Jewish prisoners carried away captive into Babylon by Nebuchadnezzar six centuries or more before Jesus was born. Try and picture the scene. Across eight hundred miles of desert that melancholy procession winds its way, leaving the highland home behind and going into slavery in the cruel city of the plain. One by one the weakest fall and die; and where a baby is left without a mother, or the mother cannot walk with the weight of the helpless child, the cruel Babylonian ruffians riding at the side will snatch it from the anguished bosom and dash its brains out against the rocks. Should we be likely to forget that if we had ever formed part of such a procession of prisoners of war? Hence when Psalm cxxxvii came to be written by some poor suffering father who had lost maybe both wife and child, he gave vent to his feelings in one of the most plaintive patriotic songs ever sung:-- By the rivers of Babylon, there we sat down--yea, we wept when we remembered Zion. We hanged our harps upon the willows in the midst thereof, for there they that carried us away captive required of us a song; and they that wasted us required of us mirth, saying, Sing us one of the songs of Zion. How shall we sing the Lord's song in a strange land? If I forget thee, O Jerusalem, let my right hand forget her cunning.... O daughter of Babylon, who art to be destroyed; happy shall he be that rewardeth thee as thou hast served us. Happy shall he be that taketh and dasheth thy little ones against the stones! One can feel deep sympathy with this unknown poet and his suffering people without adopting the absurd view that this passage represents God's word to our souls. It is a cry of suffering mingled with a desire for vengeance, and that is all. But when a preacher declares that he takes his stand and bases his gospel on the infallible Book, he is either a fool or--a rhetorician. +Belief in the infallible Book impossible.+--There are many good people who maintain that they believe the Bible from cover to cover, and they seem to think that this is something to be proud of. But they credit themselves with an impossible feat; no one can believe contradictions, in the sense of accepting them, whether intellectual or moral. The very same people who will read with unction the most sanguinary exhortations from scripture are usually people who themselves would not hurt a fly. The Bible is not like a parliamentary blue book, an exact and literal statement of facts; it represents for the most part what earnest men belonging to a particular nationality in a bygone age thought about life in relation to God. Many good people talk as though the Bible were written by the finger of God Himself and let down from heaven; on the other hand there are those who think that when they have shown the inconsistencies of scripture, they have destroyed its value. But they are both mistaken. The Bible is not one book, but a collection of books, a slow growth extending over centuries. It has come to be reverenced not because of any supernormal attestations of its authority, but because we have found it helps us more than any other book. The fact that the best part of it was written by good and serious men, men who were living for the highest they were able to see, does not necessarily give binding authority to the opinions of these men. I question whether we should ever have heard of the Old Testament if it had not been for Jesus, and the New is only a statement of what some good men thought about Jesus and his gospel at the beginning of Christian history. Jesus knew and loved the Old Testament scriptures, but whenever He found a statement therein that jarred upon His moral sense, He rejected it in the name of the higher truth declared by the Spirit of Truth within His own soul: "Ye have heard that it was said by them of old time, Thou shalt not kill; and whosoever shall kill shall be in danger of the judgment. But I say unto you that whosoever is angry with his brother without a cause"--and even "without a cause" seems to have been interpolated in later days--"shall be in danger of the judgment." "Again ye have heard that it hath been said by them of old time, Thou shalt not forswear thyself, but shalt perform unto the Lord thine oaths. But I say unto you, Swear not at all, neither by the heavens, for it is God's throne, nor by the earth, for it is His footstool. Let your communication be Yea, yea, nay, nay; for whatsoever is more than these cometh of evil." "Ye hath heard that it hath been said, Thou shalt love thine neighbour and hate thine enemy: but I say unto you, Love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you, and pray for them that despitefully use you and persecute you." Jesus knew what He was doing. In all these instances He was quoting from the Old Testament, and deliberately superseding in the name of truth certain prescriptions of the very law which He said He had come to fulfil. Everyone was taken by surprise at His daring to do this. Matthew vii. 28, 29, says, "And it came to pass, when Jesus had ended these sayings, that the people were astonished at His teaching; for He taught them as one having (in Himself) authority, and not as the scribes." No doubt some people would say to-day that this authority came from His Godhead. But the people on the hillsides of Galilee knew nothing about the Godhead of Jesus. To them He was a heaven-sent teacher, a great and inspiring master, whose words carried weight. His authority, therefore, must have been self-evident in contradistinction to that of the scribes, who always began their discourses by saying, "It is written." They never seem to have thought of appealing to anything else than the authority of the letter. But we see that Jesus, notwithstanding His reverence for the scripture, handled it with perfect freedom. His authority was that of the Spirit of God speaking within His own soul, the only authority that has ever mattered in the history of religious thought. He did not deny the authority of Scripture, but He claimed to be able to see when it rang true to His own inner experience and when it did not. +The true seat of authority.+--If we could grasp this principle clearly and strongly, it would give us a new and higher sense of freedom and of confidence in the word of God as declared in the Bible and revealed in human hearts. God has never stopped speaking to men. He speaks through us collectively and individually. "The word is very nigh unto thee, in thy mouth and in thine heart, that thou mayest do it." If we are only in earnest to listen for the divine voice and to trust it when we hear it, we shall not listen in vain. To realise that God is speaking to us just as He spoke to earnest souls in the days of old will send us to the sacred scriptures with an even greater appreciation and reverence for the men of whose experience they are the expression. But they will no longer bind us; they can only help and encourage us. We shall feel that these men of faith of an earlier day and a different race were our brothers after all, men who lived a life much like our own, and who were trying to understand God as we are trying to understand Him. The Bible is not infallible for the simple reason that the human nature, even of wise and great men, is not infallible. It helps us because these men were struggling with the same problems as ourselves, and therefore what they have to say about them is valuable. But the best of them had their limitations and shortcomings. They did not know all the truth that was to be known, but they kept their faces to the light. If we allow ourselves to be fettered by their actual words, we shall be in danger of losing sympathy with them in the spirit which animated those words. We are writing a Bible with our own lives to-day, a Bible which may never be read in its fulness by human eyes, but every letter of which is known and read in heaven. Every noble life is a word of God to the world; every brave, unselfish deed is a ray of eternal truth. Our characters ought to become living epistles known and read of all men while we strive to express the best that God has given us to see; for the same eternal Spirit of Truth, the Spirit who has been the teacher of all the Elijahs, Isaiahs, and Pauls of history is with us to-day as He was with them. +The unity of truth.+--But, someone will remonstrate, What then are we to believe? For by speaking in this way you erect as many standards of truth as there are individuals. What the ordinary man wants is to be told just what to believe, so that he can settle down and be at rest. It is small comfort to tell him that every scripture statement may be more or less fallible, and that he must trust to his own perception, or perhaps to his own fancies, as to what is true. I know all that kind of argument. It is as old as, or older than, Christianity itself. It was used in all sincerity against Jesus by some earnest people of His time. It was used again at the Reformation. It is still used by sacerdotal controversialists, and looks very plausible on the face of it. A devout and earnest Roman Catholic will tell you that in Protestantism there are a thousand different creeds, all claiming to be authoritative, and that the principle of private judgment can only lead to intellectual and moral chaos. Your Protestant literalist will tell you that the Romanist criticism has a good deal in it, and that you must have a final standard of authority, either the infallible church, the infallible Book, or the infallible Confession of Faith. But notwithstanding the dogmatists the supposed infallible Confession of Faith is almost universally discredited, and common honesty is compelling Protestants to abandon the theory of an infallible Book. The supposed infallible church has by no means been invariably self-consistent. Besides, the important point is this; no man really believes or can believe a thing until it becomes, so to speak, part of himself. Holding propositions is not necessarily believing them, no matter how tenaciously they may be adhered to. But all truth is really one and the same. I may be unable to take exactly my neighbour's point of view about some aspects of it, but if we are both in earnest and faithful to what we have seen, we shall arrive in the end at the same goal. Religious thinkers and teachers are never really so far apart as seems to be the case. It is in the expression of the truth that they differ, not in the truth itself. Language is never more than approximately convenient expression of the reality it is meant to declare. The man of the future will realise this better than the man of the present or the past. He will replace all external authority by the principle of spiritual autonomy. He will no longer be afraid of trusting the human spirit to recognise and respond to truth from whatsoever source it may come, for he will know that that spirit is one with the universal Spirit of all Truth, and needs not to look beyond itself for anything stronger or more divine. He will know that the Spirit of Truth in himself is the Spirit of Truth in all men, and that therefore in the end all men must know, and be, and do the Truth. +The New Testament and the Atonement.+--Now let us apply this principle to the New Testament writings about the redeeming work of Jesus. The same principle, of course, would apply to anything that the New Testament has to say about the gospel of Jesus, but perhaps the failure to recognise it has done more mischief in connection with the doctrine of Atonement than in anything else. At present Paul's opinion on this great subject is by many people supposed to be decisive: Paul says this, and Paul says that, and when Paul has spoken, there is no more to be said. But why should it be so? Paul's opinion is simply Paul's opinion, and not necessarily a complete and adequate statement of truth. It is entitled to be considered weighty because it is the utterance of a great man, and a great seer of truth, as well as being the earliest writing on the subject which we possess. Any man of the moral and intellectual eminence of Paul is entitled to reverence when he speaks, whether his views are in the Bible or not. It is one of the ironies of history that the words of this Paul who strove so hard against literalism and legalism in his day have since come to be regarded as a sort of fixed and final authority for Christian thought. He would be the first to denounce it. To him the Spirit of Christ operating within the individual soul was the true guide in matters of faith. He even made a point of the fact that in thinking out the truth about Jesus and His gospel he had "conferred not with flesh and blood." +Inconsistency of New Testament writers with one another.+--Again, it is somehow taken for granted that Paul and all the other New Testament writers agree together in their theology of the Atonement. That is quite a mistake, and the curious thing is that people should have been so slow in finding it out. It may be instructive to some to give a brief survey of the main points in Paul's theory of the Atonement, and compare them with some of the others. +The fundamental principle of its Atonement always the same.+--It would simplify our acquaintance with Paul's modes of reasoning if we could recognise that the truth of Atonement which he has to declare, and which he associates so closely with the life and death of Jesus, is in principle precisely the same as that which the writers of the Old Testament had in mind. What that was we have already seen. It was the assertion of the fundamental oneness of God and man, and the means to it was the principle of self-sacrifice. This is just what St. Paul set himself to proclaim to the world, and to him the whole process centred in Jesus, just as it does for Christian experience. But to his presentation of the subject Paul almost of necessity had to bring the whole apparatus of his rabbinical training. This it was which supplied him with the most of his figures, symbols, and illustrations; but his gospel was no more dependent upon these than--as I trust I have shown in a previous chapter--the ancient spiritual truth of Atonement depended upon Semitic ritual sacrifices. Paul's thought-forms were supplied by the Old Testament and his Pharisaic education, just as the forms in which we ordinarily express our thoughts to-day belong to the mental atmosphere of our time. Most of the allusions in a _Times_ leading article, for example, would be lost upon an English reader five hundred years hence unless they were carefully explained. To me one of the most remarkable things about Jesus is the fact that He was able to escape so completely the mental environment of the time in which, and the people among whom, He lived His earthly life. How He managed to deliver His peerless teaching while making so little allusion to current Jewish modes of thought and worship is a mystery, and marks His greatness as perhaps nothing else does. It was utterly different with Paul; he spoke the language of his time, and never tried to do anything else. When, therefore, we want to get at what he meant about the death of Jesus, we have first of all to get behind the symbolism by which he illustrates it, and even when we have done this we have to make allowance for some limiting Pharisaic conceptions about justice and the punishment of sin. Every now and then he breaks through these and rises into a rarer, purer region without troubling about consistency. Paul never dreamed that he was writing theological treatises which would be numbered off into chapters and verses and lectured upon in class rooms, or perhaps he would have been more careful about being exact. How many of us could afford to have our letters, written at different times and to different readers, analysed and dissected and taken as a full and permanent statement of our thought upon any particular subject or group of subjects? +Paul's view of the death of the Saviour and the forgiveness of sins.+--The first important thing to be noted in Paul's thought about sin and salvation is his view that there was a vital connection between the death of the Messiah and God's forgiveness of sins. But we should be mightily mistaken if we were to understand this view to be the same as that of a modern evangelical who talks about the "fountain filled with blood," for it was quite different. The modern evangelical, of so-called orthodox opinions, believes that Jesus died to save all men from hell; but this was not what Paul was thinking about at all. According to Paul, the wages of sin were actually and literally death. But for sin there would have been no death, and to break the power of sin would also be to break the power of death. But in this Paul was wrong, in company with a good many of his contemporaries, and there is no reason why we should not frankly say so, for, as we shall presently see, the great apostle did not confine himself to the literal statement of this view, but gave it also a mystical form in which it becomes indisputably true. In his thought the Messiah of Jewish national expectation was the head and representative of the nation in its relation to God. For ages men had been dying because of sin--"in Adam all die"--and so when the Sinless One came into human conditions and in the likeness of sinful flesh, He also had to pass through death. But there was a difference between His death and all other deaths in that, being sinless, death could not hold Him, and so He rose again from the tomb triumphant over it. His triumph then becomes potentially the triumph of humanity--"in Christ shall all be made alive"--if only we unite ourselves to Him by faith. God will remit the death penalty to all who are "in Christ" and "justified by faith"; that is, we shall all rise from the dead as He rose. Apparently Paul's belief was that no one would ever have died but for the sin of Adam, a taint which has affected all Adam's descendants. Death in his view was synonymous with annihilation. The next thing to be noticed is the juridical nature of Paul's conception of the relationship of man and God. God is a lawgiver and man a transgressor, a rebel against his sovereignty. In accordance with God's law of righteousness sin is punishable by the death of the whole race. "The wrath of God is revealed from heaven against all ungodliness and unrighteousness of men." But when the eternal Son of God, the head and representative of the race, submits to this penalty and in so doing acknowledges the righteousness of God, justice is satisfied. "If one died for all, therefore all died." Those who claim by faith the benefits of Messiah's submission to death on behalf of the race are at peace with God. Henceforth they are not to live to themselves, but unto Him who died for them and rose again. Anyone who reads Paul's words without dogmatic prejudice will see that this is not the present-day doctrine of Atonement. It takes for granted certain ideas which were current among the Jews of Paul's day, but which have since sunk into the background of Christian thought or been abandoned altogether. Paul's use of them in the framing of his theology is ingenious but not convincing, and was not essential to his gospel; in fact the juridical and the ethical elements in Paul's teaching stand in irreconcilable contrast. His theology is saved by his mysticism, for no sooner has he enunciated these unbelievable propositions about the death penalty of sin, the judicial sovereignty of God, justification by faith, the imputed merits of the Redeemer, and such like, than he proceeds to use them as symbols to illustrate a subjective change in the sinner and a mystical union between the soul and Christ. He does this so beautifully that the reader can hardly discern where Paul quits the region of literalism and takes us into that of mysticism. Hence he talks about dying with Christ, being crucified with Christ, dying to sin, and so on, evidently meaning that the whole redeeming process has to take place within the soul of the sinner who seeks God. Even the conception of the resurrection ceases to be literal and becomes the uprising of the divine man within the human soul by faith in the risen Lord. "If any man be in Christ there is a new creation; old things are passed away; behold all things are become new." "There is therefore now no condemnation to them which are in Christ Jesus, who walk not after the flesh but after the Spirit." We see from these expressions that in practice Paul transfers the whole drama of redemption from without to within the individual soul. What a pity it is that his interpreters in Christian history have so seldom thought of doing the same! +The Hebrews theory.+--The epistle to the Hebrews belongs to quite a different category from the writings of St. Paul. The dominant thought in this epistle is that of salvation by sacrifice, a perfectly true and spiritual idea, as we have already seen. The writer, like Paul, employs Old Testament symbolism, but in quite a different way. Probably this is due to the fact that he was an Alexandrian Jew whose thinking was shaped under the influence of Philo, whereas that of Paul was governed by the rabbinical schools of Palestinian Judaism. At this time Alexandria was the greatest intellectual centre in the world, a meeting place for Greek thought and Hebrew religion as represented by Philo. The influence of Alexandria is plainly to be seen in the epistle to the Hebrews, which, possibly, was written by the learned and courtly Apollos. Like Paul, the writer thinks of salvation as getting right with God and living a holy life, but he omits all reference to a judicial penalty, or the necessity for escaping annihilation by faith in the substitutionary work of a sinless Redeemer. In his view Christ is from first to last the priestly representative of the race, making a sacrifice to God after the Old Testament fashion, but in a more perfect way. He regards the Old Testament sacrificial offerings as being but the types and shadows of the one perfect and eternal offering which humanity through Christ is making to God. Most of my readers will at once admit that this is not fanciful, although the language in which it is expressed is so different from our own; it is quite faithful to the spiritual meaning of Old Testament sacrifice. When, therefore, this writer refers to the offering of the blood of Christ, he is thinking not only of Calvary, but of all that Calvary symbolises, the perfect spiritual offering of mankind to God, the sacramental realisation of our oneness with Him. This view is not worked out with the moral intensity which characterises St. Paul's, but it is unassailably true once we get the writer's point of view. As a theory it is quite different from Paul's, unless we are content to shed Paul's literalism, get rid of all thought of an angry God and a physical death penalty for sin, and betake ourselves instead to the inner spiritual region where self-sacrifice is realised to be the means of saving, not only the individual, but the whole race, by uniting it to the source of all being. +The Johannine theory.+--There is a certain similarity between the view of Atonement set forth in the epistle to the Hebrews and that contained in the Johannine writings. It is easy to understand why this is so when we recognise that both are dominated by Alexandrian modes of thinking. These Johannine writings--the fourth gospel, the three epistles ascribed to St. John, and the book of Revelation--are all that have come down to us of what was at one time, no doubt, a considerable literature. How much the apostle John had to do with it cannot be determined with any certainty, but it is clear enough that these writings are not all from one hand, and that they are much later than the work of St. Paul. The all-important conception in the Johannine writings is that salvation is secured by the union of the individual soul with the eternal Christ, or Logos, or Divine Man of pre-Christian thought and experience. Here again we have a perfectly true and necessary idea, an idea implied in all spiritual experience worthy of the name; but as the root factor in a presentation of the doctrine of Atonement, it differs widely from Paul's way of putting things. When the Johannine writers speak of the blood of Christ, they mean the outpoured, forthgiven life of the eternal Son of God, the ideal humanity, perfectly and centrally expressed in Jesus of Nazareth. There is not from beginning to end a hint or a suggestion in these writings that a sinless being was tortured in order to appease the wrath of God against guilty ones, or that the penalty of sin in a world to come will be remitted to a penitent sinner in consideration of his faith in such an arrangement. +Underlying unity.+--This is by no means an exhaustive examination of New Testament teaching on the subject of Atonement, but it should be sufficient to show two things: first, that the theories of the New Testament writers concerning the redeeming works of Christ are not, taken literally, mutually consistent; secondly, the truth implied in all the theories is precisely that truth of Atonement which we have already seen to be implied in all religion. The great thing which impressed the primitive Christian consciousness in regard to the life and death of Jesus was that this life and death were the most complete and consistent self-offering of the individual to the whole that had ever been made. In this self-offering was the one perfect manifestation of the eternal Christ, the humanity which reveals the innermost of God, the humanity which is love. To partake of the benefits of that Atonement we have to unite ourselves to it; that is, to employ the mystical language of St. Paul, we have to die to self with Christ and rise with Him into the experience of larger, fuller life, the life eternal. It is just the same truth under every one of these different theories, but if we persist in regarding them literally we shall miss it, for by no kind of ingenuity can we square the theory of St. Paul with that of the other writers; the way of putting it is different. But once we see what the essential truth of Atonement is, we are no longer bound by the intellectual symbolism of Paul or Hebrews or any other authority; we can get beneath the symbol to the thing symbolised. The Pauline principle of dying with Christ, the Hebrews idea of the eternal sacrifice manifested in time, the Johannine thought about the outpoured life of the eternal Christ, are all one and the same. Jesus did nothing for us which we are not also called upon to do for ourselves and one another in our degree. Faith in His atoning work means death to self that we may live to God; as selfhood perishes on its Calvary, the Christ, the true man, the divine reality, in whom we are one with all men, rises in power in our hearts and unites us to the source of all goodness and joy. Institutional, forensic, external, the Atonement never has been and never will be. But vicarious suffering, willingly accepted, is the great redeeming force by which the world is gradually being won to its true life in God, for vicarious suffering is the expression of the law that in a finite world the service of the whole involves pain, although it is also the deepest joy that the human heart can know. The sacrifice of Jesus is the central and ideal expression of this principle on the field of time, but it only possesses meaning and value as it is repeated in our lives; the Christ has to be offered perpetually on the altar of human hearts. There is no justification except by becoming just, and no imputed righteousness which means availing ourselves of merits that are not ours. We are "justified by faith," indeed, but only in the sense that no man can become good without believing in goodness, and no man can really believe in the Christ revealed in Jesus without gradually becoming like Him. Here is Atonement, Justification, Sanctification, and all else that is needed to unite mankind to the life eternal which is to know God and Jesus Christ whom He has sent. +No Old Testament prophecy of Atonement of Jesus.+--It can hardly be necessary to point out that there is therefore no direct reference in the Old Testament to the atoning work of Jesus. All the beautiful passages with which we are so familiar, and which have become the language of devotion in reference to such sacred seasons as Christmas Day and Good Friday, can only be associated with Jesus in an ideal sense. The noble fifty-third of Isaiah, for example, and all similar passages about the prophetic conception of the suffering servant of God, have, literally understood, nothing whatever to do with Jesus. But the striking thing about such passages is that the men who wrote them were able to realise and express the very essence of the spiritual Atonement, the giving of the individual for the race. The pathetic and inspiring description, "He was despised and rejected of men, a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief, and we hid as it were our faces from him, he was despised and we esteemed him not. Surely he has borne our griefs, and carried our sorrows: yet we did esteem him stricken, smitten of God, and afflicted. But he was wounded for our transgressions, he was bruised for our iniquities: the chastisement of our peace was upon him; and with his stripes we are healed," is perhaps the grandest presentation of the atoning life, the Christ man, that exists in literature. The ideal fulfilment of it was Jesus, as primitive Christianity quickly saw; but had the original writer no specific example in mind belonging to his own day when he wrote? To be sure he had; the case of Jeremiah would furnish it if no other. This brave and faithful advocate of the moral ideal, after standing alone in his resistance to the materialising tendencies of his time, was scorned and hated by his fellow-countrymen, flung into prison, beaten, tortured, and probably murdered in the end. He shared the captivity of the Jews under Nebuchadnezzar, a captivity against which he had warned them in vain. "Despised and rejected of men," he died, but in later days his name came to be reverenced as perhaps none had ever been before. For centuries afterwards he was referred to by the returned exiles as _the_ prophet, in contradistinction to all other prophets. He had lived the atoning life and died a sacrificial death. It was not wonderful that the author of the fifty-third of Isaiah should have such a noble example in mind when he penned his deathless words, but these words were meant to have an impersonal meaning too. They stand as a description of the ideal manhood, the true servant of God, the saviour of the race in any and every generation. This kind of manhood, just because it is the true manhood, the eternal or divine manhood, must inevitably suffer in a selfish world, but these sufferings are never in vain; they are the Calvary from which the eternal Christ rises in redeeming might over the power of sin and death. Let any man ask himself what it is that is saving the world to-day, and gradually but surely lifting it out of the mire of ignorance and wickedness, and he cannot find a better answer than the fifty-third of Isaiah. It tells of Jesus, but it tells also of all the sons of God who in the spirit of Jesus have ever given their lives in the service of love. When we go to the Bible in this common-sense way, entering with understanding and sympathy into the thoughts and aspirations of the men who wrote it, it becomes a living book, and a real help in our endeavour to live our lives in union with Jesus Christ. But to regard it as a sort of official document written by the finger of God, of equal authority in every part, and containing a full and complete statement of the propositions we must accept in order to make sure of salvation, is hampering and belittling to the soul. God inspires men, not books; and He will go on inspiring men to the end of time, whether they write books or not. I do not know anything which is such a serious hindrance and stumbling-block to spiritual religion to-day as this supposed authority of the letter of scripture. If only the average Protestant could emancipate himself from this intellectual bondage, the gain to truth would be immeasurable. I do not suppose there is a single man who reads these words who would make light of the religious opinions of a pious mother, but would he allow them to fetter him in the exercise of his own mature judgment? But surely your own mother stands as near to you as men who wrote centuries before she was born. If God spoke to the hearts of men centuries ago, He can and does speak to them now. If He spoke to Isaiah, He can and does speak to you. If your mother's way of stating truth is not necessarily yours, no more is Paul's. The deeper unity of the spirit forbids this blind obedience to the letter. Therefore, knowing quite well what use hostile reviewers will make of this sentence, I close by solemnly adding: Never mind what the Bible says if you are in search for truth, but trust the voice of God within you. The Bible will help you in your quest, just as any good man might be able to help you; but you must judge, test, and weigh the various statements it contains, just as you would judge, test, and weigh the opinions of the best friend you ever had. Nothing can make up for this quiet and assured confidence in the Spirit of Truth within your own soul. If God is not there, you will not find Him in the Bible or anywhere else. CHAPTER XII SALVATION, JUDGMENT, AND THE LIFE TO COME +The inwardness of Salvation and Judgment.+--We come now to the consideration of a group of subjects which are usually treated in quite separate categories. I mean the punishment of sin, the nature and scope of Salvation, Resurrection and Ascension, Death, Judgment, Heaven and Hell. The reason why I feel that these subjects ought not to be treated in separate categories is because they are all descriptions of states of the soul and imply each other; they are inward, not outward, experiences. This statement will, I trust, become clearer as we proceed. So far we have examined pretty thoroughly the nature of sin and its effects in the world, but have said very little as to its penal consequences, and yet the consideration of these consequences has been the determining factor in most of the theories of Atonement, ancient or modern, which have occupied the field of human thought. It is true, as I have said, that the idea of Atonement is not necessarily associated with that of sin, and actually precedes it both historically and psychologically, but it cannot be gainsaid that in Christian thought the desirability of finding some means of escaping or minimising the punishment of sin has tended to overshadow everything else in popular presentations of the Atonement. But what is the punishment of sin, and who administers it? What is the Judgment and when does it take effect? How does Salvation stand related to punishment and judgment? What has Death to do with the matter? What are we to understand by Heaven and Hell, and what is the bearing of either upon Salvation and Judgment? Everyone knows how popular evangelical theology would answer these questions. Sin, we are told, will be punished in a future life by the committal of the impenitent soul to everlasting torment. Salvation is primarily a means of escaping this, and secondarily being conformed gradually to the moral likeness of the Saviour. Judgment is a grand assize, which will take place when the material world comes to an end; Jesus Christ will be the Judge, and will apportion everlasting weal or woe, according as the soul has or has not claimed the benefit of His redeeming work in time to profit by it. Death is the dividing line beyond which the destiny is fixed eternally whether we die old or young. Heaven is the place into which the redeemed enter--whether after death or after judgment has never been clearly settled--there to praise God eternally in perfect happiness; Hell is the place of never ending torment to which unbelievers are to be consigned. Now it does not require a very profound intelligence to see that popular theology is a mass of contradictions in regard to these things. By eternal the ordinary Christian usually means everlasting; why should punishment be everlasting? The worst sin that was ever sinned does not deserve everlasting punishment, and I have never yet met the Christian who would really and truly be willing to see a fellow-creature undergo it. There is no understandable sense in which justice could demand such a terrible sentence, even if it involved no more than everlasting unhappiness; how much more unthinkable it becomes if the punishment is to be everlasting, fiendish torment! If Salvation is first and foremost deliverance from this punishment, how is it that it does not take effect immediately? Justice would suggest that it ought to do so, for some sinners live a merry life until the eleventh hour, and then give God "the last snuff of the candle" as Father Taylor put it, whereas others repent early but never manage, all through a long life, to escape the suffering caused by their own deeds in youth. In some cases, at any rate, on this side of the grave, Salvation does not involve the least remission of penalty, while in others apparently no penalty will ever be endured either on this side of death or on the other. The poor drunkard who repents does not find that repentance gives him back his wrecked constitution, but the selfish, grasping, cruel-hearted wrecker of homes and lives may just be in time with his trust in the "finished work," and go right home to glory while his victims struggle and suffer on amid the conditions he has made for them on earth. Curious justice this! +Christian thought never quite consistent about Death and after.+--There is no need to labour the point; popular evangelical views of the punishment of sin are incredible when looked at in a common-sense way. But they are even more chaotic on the subject of death and whatever follows death. It does not seem to be generally recognised that Christian thought has never been really clear concerning the Resurrection, especially in relation to future judgment. One view has been that the deceased saint lies sleeping in the grave until the archangel's trump shall sound and bid all mankind awake for the great assize. Anyone who reads the New Testament without prejudice will see that this was Paul's earlier view, although later on he changed it for another. There is a good deal of our current, everyday religious phraseology which presumes it still-- "Father, in thy gracious keeping Leave we now thy servant sleeping." But alongside this view another which is a flagrant contradiction of it has come down to us, namely, that immediately after death the soul goes straight to heaven or hell, as the case may be, without waiting for the archangel's trump and the grand assize. On the whole this is the dominant theory of the situation in Protestant circles, and is much less reasonable than the Catholic doctrine of purgatory, however much the latter may have been abused. But under this view what is the exact significance of the Judgment Day and the physical Resurrection? One would think they might be accounted superfluous. What is the good of tormenting a soul in hell for ages and then whirling it back to the body in order to rise again and receive a solemn public condemnation? Better leave it in the Inferno and save trouble, especially as the solemn trial is meaningless, seeing that a part of the sentence has already been undergone, and that there is no hope that any portion of it will ever be remitted. Truly the tender mercies with which theologians have credited the Almighty are cruel indeed! It is difficult to speak with patience of the solemn, non-committal way in which many present-day theological writers discuss everlasting punishment. Many of them have an "open mind" on the subject, whatever that may be, and warn the rest of us not to dogmatise on the great mystery. It does not seem to occur to them that the Christian fundamental of the love of God renders the dogma of everlasting punishment impossible, for it implies that God will do the most for the being that needs the most, and surely that must be the most unhappy sinner. Others speak of a "larger hope," a second opportunity for accepting divine grace, and so on. But these theories do not meet the case at all. While sin remains in the universe, God is defeated; everlasting punishment involves His everlasting failure. How often we bear preachers speaking about the obdurate human will, which to all eternity may go on resisting good. There are not a few who defend the abstract possibility of everlasting punishment by insisting that it is impossible to coerce the will, and therefore that to endless ages a soul may go on choosing evil and rejecting good. But this is an entirely new argument; it implies that a sinner _might_ choose the good on the other side of death, and that if he does not he continues eternally to pass sentence upon himself, God being helpless in the matter. This is not the way in which advocates of everlasting punishment used to talk. It is a little more hopeful than the conventional dogma, for it makes the sinner to some extent his own judge and executioner, and places stress on the undoubted truth that if a man keeps on doing wrong things he becomes hardened. I have heard this view defended in private by a bishop, who apparently never saw that in adopting it he had given up entirely the orthodox Protestant view that there is no chance for a man after death, and that the thing which determines our post-mortem destiny is not our conduct, but our belief. Repentance at the eleventh hour, however bad the previous life may have been, is, according to the theology of this particular bishop, enough to secure admission to heaven. If, therefore, a power of eternally choosing evil remains on the further side of the great change, surely there is some hope that that power might not continue to be exercised. But if not, what becomes of the whole fabric of popular Protestant theology concerning the plan of salvation, the Judgment Day, and the atoning merits of the Redeemer? No, this kind of incoherent theologising will not do. No one really believes it, and the churches will have to give up professing to believe it. In our ordinary everyday concerns we take quite a different view for granted all the time, the view that "Whatsoever a man soweth that shall he also reap." The harvest may be long in coming, but it comes at last. Neither do we choose our friends on account of their chances of heaven or hell. We like or dislike a man because he deserves to be liked or disliked, and not because he believes something that will get him into heaven. Neither, thank God, do we want to see even the wicked left to the consequences of their wickedness; we want to see them helped to live differently, and it is hardly probable that this impulse of our better humanity will change after death. Love cannot be false to itself; in the presence of need it must of necessity keep on giving itself until the need is satisfied and the victory won. But if popular theology concerning the last things is untrue, or at least misleading and inadequate, what is the truth? Do we want a different set of terms or not? I think not, but we want a different perspective. These terms ought to be construed as states of the soul, rather than as external conditions. Let me try to explain what I mean. +The true Salvation.+--In the first place if sin is selfishness, salvation must consist in ceasing to be selfish, that is, it represents the victory of love in the human heart. This may be represented as the uprising of the deeper self, the true man, the Christ man in the experience of the penitent. We may even go so far as to say that this can come about, and does come about, without any strongly marked feelings of contrition or sudden change of attitude. Wherever you see a man trying to do something for the common good, you see the uprising of the spirit of Christ; what he is doing is a part of the Atonement. In church or out of church, with or without a formal creed, this is the true way in which the redemption of the world is proceeding. Every man who is trying to live so as to make his life a blessing to the world is being saved himself in the process, saved by becoming a saviour. Ordinary observation ought to tell us that untold thousands of our fellow-beings, even among those who never dream of going to church, are being saved in this way. This is the true way to look at the matter. The Christ, the true Christ who was and is Jesus, but who is also the deeper self of every human being, is saving individuals by filling them with the unselfish desire to save the race. It is this unselfish desire to minister to the common good which is the true salvation. I do not mind what name is given to it so long as it is recognised for what it really is; there is no stopping-place between sinner and saviour. This is the way in which men like Robert Blatchford of the _Clarion_ are being saved while trying to save. Conceive how differently such a man _might_ have lived his life. He might have lived it so as to be of no use to anyone, or indeed in such a way as to be a hindrance rather than a help to poor overburdened humanity. It matters comparatively little that this man should think he is destroying supernaturalism and scoffs at the possibility of a future life. His moral earnestness is a mark of his Christhood and his work a part of the Atonement. Not another Christ than Jesus, mind! The very same. Mr. Blatchford may laugh at this and call his moral aspirations by quite a different name. Well, let him; but I know the thing when I see it. This is Salvation. +Conversion.+--But in the history of mankind the change from selfishness to love, from darkness to light, from death to life, has often meant something much more pronounced than this. A man may have been living a bad life, and become suddenly impressed by some appeal to his better nature made in the name of God. He may have felt humiliated and distressed by his new-found consciousness of sin. He may have prayed earnestly for forgiveness, and felt that forgiveness has come and that the peace of God has entered into and possessed his soul. He has deliberately and solemnly consecrated his life to Jesus and feels that henceforth he is, as it were, in a new world. This change is rightly termed conversion, a turning round and going right. Such a man may be able to say with St. Paul, "To me to live is Christ," and the words would be literally and grandly true. After this he may go on believing all kinds of things about verbal inspiration, the precious blood, the fate of the impenitent, and I know not what else, but the quality of the new life is always the same; it is dominated by the spirit of love instead of the spirit of selfishness; it is harmony with God. Often this change is very complete and beautiful, but in every case it involves a long and slow ascent to the stature of the perfect man in Christ Jesus. It is no delusion, either, that in the endeavour to live the new life divine help is forthcoming. The Holy Spirit of truth and love is ever present with a child of God to guide him to higher and ever higher heights of spiritual attainment. Without this blessed religious experience, the experience of those who are "called to be saints," this world would be a poor place to live in. I may perhaps be pardoned for adding that in my judgment even the earnest redemptive endeavours of men like the editor of the _Clarion_ have indirectly been made possible by it. Take out of the world what Christian saints have owed to their fellowship with Jesus, and there would be very little of hope and inspiration left. Still, what I want to emphasise here is the fact that, however crude the various theologies may have been in which this experience has clothed itself, it is always the same; it represents the victory of love in the human heart. +Salvation and penalty.+--But does this kind of salvation do away with the penal consequences of past sin? If not, what is its relation to them? To answer these questions we must look a little more closely into the nature of such penal consequences. Perhaps it would help to clear up the subject if I were to say frankly before going any farther that there is no such thing as punishment, no far-off Judgment Day, no great white throne, and no Judge external to ourselves. I say there is no punishment of sin in the sense in which the word "punishment" is usually employed. We are accustomed to think of punishment as a sentence imposed by some authority from without and containing within itself some element of vengeance for wrong-doing. But in the divine dealings with men such punishment has never existed and never will. What has already been said in a previous chapter on the subject of pain should help to make this statement plain. We have seen that pain is life pressing upon death and death resisting life. If there were no life, there would be no pain. We may say therefore that pain is life, or some finite expression of the universal life, seeking to burst through something that fetters and hinders it. Apply this to the region of morals and let us see how it works out. If a man has been living for self, he has been making a mistake and preparing for himself a harvest of pain, for sooner or later the divine life within him, the truer, deeper self, will assert itself against the decisive efforts of sin. It is just as impossible for a man to go on eternally living apart from the universal life as it is for a sand castle to shut out the ocean; the returning tide would break down the puny barriers and destroy everything that tends to separate between the soul and God. For, after all, what is our life but God's? To try to keep it for ourselves is like trying to catch and imprison a sun ray by drawing the blinds. To save the self we must serve the All. When, therefore, we remember that the spirit of man and the spirit of God are one, we know of a surety that the infinite life behind the human spirit will assert itself irresistibly against the endeavours of sin to enclose that spirit within finite conditions. The essence of sin is the declaration, "Mine is not thine, and I shall live for mine alone." This is trying to live for the finite; it is enclosing the soul within barriers; those barriers must be broken if the soul is to be saved, and broken they will be just because the deeper self of every man is already one with God. In the stable-yard of my house there was at one time a tree, which was cut down and the place where it grew covered with flagstones and a wall built round it. But the roots of the tree were not removed, and so that buried life has reasserted itself, the flagstones have been shattered, and now the wall is coming down. Here is a figure of our moral experience. A man may go on living for self all through a long career; he may bury his better nature deep underneath the hard shell of materialism and self-indulgence, but it is all in vain; sooner or later, on this side of death or on the other, that buried life shall rise in power and all barriers be swept away. This uprising of the Christ in the individual soul, for such it is, must inevitably mean pain to the man whose true life has been entombed in selfishness. The pain may begin here or on the farther side of the change called death, but it is itself not a mark of death, but of life. The fact that a soul can suffer proves its salvability beyond dispute. An everlasting hell is in the nature of things a contradiction, for the finite cannot eternally bar the way of the infinite reality whose uprising is the cause of its pain; if it could, it would itself be infinite, which is absurd. Sin is essentially the endeavour to live for the finite, the separative, the divisive, as opposed to the infinite, the whole-ward, the All. Which will win in this encounter? +The real judge.+--And who, pray, is the Judge? Who but yourself? The deeper self is the judge, the self who is eternally one with God. The pain caused by sin arises from the soul, which is potentially infinite and cannot have its true nature denied. If you go and live over a sewer, you will be ill. Why? Because you were never meant to live over a sewer. The evil therein attacks you, and the life within you fights to overcome it, and in the process you have to suffer. It is just the same with your spiritual nature. You _cannot_ continue to live apart from the whole, for the real you _is_ the whole, and, do what you will, it will overcome everything within you that makes for separateness, and in the process you will have to suffer. This is what the punishment of sin means. It is life battling with death, love striving against selfishness, the deeper soul with the surface soul. It is our own spiritual nature that compels us to suffer when we sin, and there is no escaping the sentence; if we sin we must suffer, for we are so constituted that what sin does, love with toil and pain must undo. No eleventh-hour repentance can evade this issue; in fact, it may be the beginning of it. If we have been treading a wrong road, repentance is turning round and taking the way back. If we have been living a false life, repentance is the beginning of the true, and just in proportion as the false has been accepted, so will the true find it difficult to destroy the lie. _You_ are the judge; you _in_ God. If you have failed to achieve that for which you are here, you will have to achieve it here or elsewhere, and the correction of your failure will inevitably mean pain. "The tissues of the life to be, We weave with colours all our own; And in the field of destiny We reap as we have sown." There is nothing horrific about this law of the spirit. In a true and real sense it is our own law; _we_ make it. Being what we are, we cannot let ourselves off. Pain is at once the consequence of sin and the token of our divine lineage. But there is nothing individualistic about this sinning and suffering. All the love in the universe comes to the help of the soul that tries to rise. It will even enter the prison house along with it and accept the cross in the endeavour to hasten the emancipation of the sinbound soul. In fact, it must do so, for as long as there is any sin to be done away, love cannot have its perfect work. This it was which brought Jesus to earth, and this it is which turns every follower of Jesus into a saviour. Love must strive and suffer with sin until God is all in all. +The spiritual resurrection.+--It follows from this that the true resurrection is spiritual, not material, and this is the sense in which the word is most frequently employed in the New Testament. In the fourth gospel Jesus is represented as saying, "I am the resurrection, and the life: he that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live: and he that liveth and believeth in me shall never die." This is a great saying, and the writer of this particular gospel meant every word of it in the sense I have just indicated. He makes the eternal Christ the speaking terms of the earthly Jesus and tells us that the uprising of this eternal Christ within the soul of the penitent sinner is the real resurrection. +The resurrection of Jesus.+--But this subject of the resurrection demands a further examination. We have already seen how inconsistent popular Christian doctrine is about the matter, and yet Christianity started with the belief in a resurrection of our Lord, a belief which has continued down to the present day. What are we to say about this? We may as well admit at the outset that the gospel accounts of the physical resurrection of Jesus are mutually inconsistent and that no amount of ingenuity can reconcile them. Matthew speaks of a Galilean appearance, and says nothing about the ascension. Luke says a great deal about the Jerusalem appearances, nothing about Galilee, and tells us that the ascension took place from Bethany. The end of St. Mark's gospel has been lost, and the last few verses are a summary of the accounts in the other gospels concerning the post-resurrection appearances of the Lord. John's version is, of course, less historical than the synoptists, and puts the last appearance at the sea of Tiberias. A minute discussion of the problem thus raised would be unprofitable for our present purpose, but I hope we can take for granted the broad fact that without a belief in a resurrection of some kind Christianity could not have made a start at all. It is almost indisputable that in some way or other the disciples must have become convinced that they had seen Jesus face to face after the world believed Him to be dead and buried. The earliest apostolic utterance on the subject in the New Testament is the familiar passage from 1 Cor. xv: "For I delivered unto you first of all that which I also received, how that Christ died for our sins according to the scriptures; And that he was buried, and that he rose again the third day according to the scriptures: And that he was seen by Cephas, then of the twelve: After that he was seen of above five hundred brethren at once; of whom the greater part remain unto this present, but some are fallen asleep. After that he was seen of James; then of all the apostles. And last of all he was seen of me also, as of one born out of due time." This statement is clear enough and almost unquestionably authentic. It places beyond doubt what the apostolic church thought of the resurrection of Jesus. The little group of disciples must somehow have become convinced that their Master was not really dead, but alive and reigning in the world unseen, interested as much as ever in the work His followers were doing, and spiritually present with them in the doing of it. This conviction had immediate and important spiritual results. It gave these simple men a new and greater confidence in Jesus and in the power of the life He had lived. They saw that this life was, after all, the strongest thing in the universe. They realised that in the end nothing could stand against them; evil could do it no real harm, for God was behind it. Even before the crucifixion they had looked upon Jesus as the Son of God in a higher and more spiritual sense than that title had been used before, but now henceforth they thought of Him as such in a higher way still. According to Paul He was "declared to be the Son of God with power by the resurrection from the dead." If we try to put ourselves in the place of these first Christians, we shall realise better the effect of the resurrection upon their feelings and behaviour. Let us suppose that we had known Jesus in the flesh, that we had learned to understand a little of the moral and spiritual beauty of the ideal revealed in His life, and that afterward we had seen Him die in blood and shame; I think it would have taken a good deal to convince us that evil had not gained the day. Now suppose after this we had absolute proof--I will not say how--that our Master was still alive, and that His spirit was with us and helping us, would it not make a very great difference to our outlook upon life and our confidence in God? We could not but feel the littleness of the power that had tried to destroy Jesus, and we should not be afraid of it any more. This is precisely what appears to have happened in the experience of these Galileans. Defeat and failure were somehow turned into victory and success; they had seen Jesus again. +Theories of resurrection.+--But how are we to account for this new-found confidence of theirs that they had really once more looked upon the face of Jesus? The subject has been discussed so exhaustively that no possible explanation of it has been left altogether untouched. Such a unique event as the raising of a physical body from death is one which the average western mind of the present day would reject as incredible if we had never heard it before, consequently there exists a widespread tendency among liberal Christians to try to account for primitive Christian belief in the resurrection of our Lord in some other way. Thus we have the hallucination theory, the apparition theory, the swoon theory, and others of a similar character. I should suppose that most thinkers who take the point of view of the New Theology would hold one or other of these explanations or some modification of them, but I confess I have never been able to do so. It seems to me that no such explanation of the universally held Christian conviction that the physical body of Jesus actually rose from the tomb is sufficient to account for it. The passage already quoted from 1 Cor. xv is alone enough to illustrate this statement. It is clear that the earliest Christians were absolutely certain that the body of Jesus after the resurrection was the body of Jesus as they had known it before, although apparently it possessed some new and mysterious attributes. In my judgment, also, insistence upon the impossibility of a physical resurrection presumes an essential distinction between matter and spirit which I cannot admit. The philosophy underlying the New Theology as I understand it is monistic idealism, and monistic idealism recognises no fundamental distinction between matter and spirit. The fundamental reality is consciousness. The so-called material world is the product of consciousness exercising itself along a certain limited plane; the next stage of consciousness above this is not an absolute break with it, although it is an expansion of experience or readjustment of focus. Admitting that individual self-consciousness persists beyond the change called death, it only means that such consciousness is being exercised along another plane; from a three-dimensional it has entered a four-dimensional world. This new world is no less and no more material than the present; it is all a question of the range of consciousness. It is this view, the view that matter exists only in and for mind, that leads me to believe that less than justice has been done by liberal thinkers to the theory of the physical resurrection of Jesus. What is the physical but the common denominator between one finite mind and another? It is a mode of language, an expression of thought as well as a condition of thought. Imagine a being free of a three-dimensional world trying to converse with a being still limited to a two-dimensional world, and we have a clew to what I think may have happened after the crucifixion of Jesus. The three-dimensional body would behave in a manner altogether unaccountable to the two-dimensional watcher. The latter, knowing only length and breadth, and nothing of up or down, would see his three-dimensional friend as a line only. The moment the three-dimensional solid rose above or sank below his line of vision, it would seem to have disappeared like an apparition, although as really present as before. To the two-dimensional mind it would seem as though the solid were a ghost. Does this throw any light upon the mysterious appearances and disappearances of the body of Jesus? The all-important thing after Calvary was to make the disciples aware, beyond all dispute, that Jesus was really alive, more alive than ever, and that His murderers had been helpless to destroy Him. When we remember that to the ordinary Jewish mind the thought of personal immortality was anything but clear, and that to many of them death was synonymous with annihilation, we can see how enormous was the change that had to be wrought in the mental attitude of those who had seen Jesus die a violent and bloody death. To see Him return triumphant was the one thing required to counteract their feeling that all was lost, and the best means of demonstrating this victory over death was to enable them to behold Him in the body with which they were already familiar and which they loved so well. For, after all, that body was but a thought-form, a kind of language, a mode of communication between mind and mind; it was no more and no less a thought-form than an apparition would have been, and, from the point of view of monistic idealism, it is no more difficult to believe in the reanimation of a physical body than in the use of any other thought-form to express a fact of consciousness. Here, then, we have a being whose consciousness belongs to the fourth-dimensional plane adjusting Himself to the capacity of those on a three-dimensional plane for the sake of proving to them beyond dispute that-- "Life is ever lord of death, And love can never love its own." This seems to me the most reasonable explanation of the post-resurrection appearances of Jesus, and the impression produced by them on the minds of His disciples. Most of my New Theology friends will probably reject it at first sight, but at least it is consistent with the philosophic position assumed throughout this book, and seems to me to present fewer difficulties than any other in face of the New Testament accounts. But no theory of the resurrection of Jesus is absolutely indispensable or of first-rate importance; the main thing to be agreed upon is that Christianity started with the belief that its Founder had risen from the dead in order to demonstrate that death has no power to destroy anything worthy of God. In consonance with this idealistic view of the subject the ascension becomes understandable; it simply means that when Jesus had done what He wanted, the body was dissipated. No doubt primitive Christian thought naïvely regarded heaven as a place above the sky to which the physical body actually went, and Hades, or the under-world, as the place from which the spirit of Jesus returned to reanimate it before ascending to the abode of the Father. Plainly enough this is what Paul thought about it, but such a conception is now impossible to anyone; it could only exist under a geocentric view of the universe which has long since passed away. But when Paul speaks even about the resurrection of the saints, this is what he means. All the good who have died are waiting in the under-world, the shadowy home of the departed, in a state of existence which is only a sort of dream or sleep compared with that which they have left. From this under-world Jesus returned, "the first-fruits of them that slept." All who believe in Him will do the same sooner or later, will resume their physical bodies, and, like Him, ascend to the world above the sky. But seeing this geocentric cosmogony has been impossible for centuries past, why should we go on trying to squeeze Paul's language so as to mean something else than what it meant at first? Granted that he was right in believing, in company with all the rest of the primitive church, that Jesus showed Himself to the disciples after His crucifixion, what more do we need? Paul's theory as to the resurrection of every physical body is just nonsense in the light of our larger knowledge of the universe and its laws, and we may as well say so. +Paul's mystical view of resurrection.+--But we should do Paul an injustice if we were to limit the value of his utterances by his views about the resurrection of the human body. I have already pointed out that Paul employs physical symbols in a mystical way, and in nothing was this more so than in his use of the idea of a resurrection. With him, as with the writer of the fourth gospel, the spiritual resurrection was the uprising, going-forward, issuing-forth, of the Christ or divine man within the soul. When he speaks in this way he allows the thought of a physical resurrection to drop out of sight. Thus he writes: "If we have been planted together in the likeness of His death, we shall be also in the likeness of His resurrection." "That I may know Him and the power of His resurrection, and the fellowship of His sufferings, being made conformable unto His death; if by any means I might attain unto the resurrection of the dead." "If then ye be risen with Christ seek the things which are above, where Christ sitteth on the right hand of God.... For ye died, and your life is hid with Christ in God." Even if this last sentence is not Paul's own it has a distinctly Pauline ring. In his maturer thought the great apostle seems to have escaped the limitations of his early Pharisaism. He ceases to speak of the sleep or the under-world, and begins to think of death as the gateway to the immediate presence of his dearly loved Master. "For I long to depart and to be with Christ which is far better." Here, surely, we are listening to the voice of Paul the aged. The moment we succeed in disentangling ourselves from all literal and limiting New Testament statements about the connection between sin and physical death, the physical resurrection, the distant Judgment Day, and such-like, we find ourselves in a position to appreciate the beautiful spiritual experience in which these very terms become symbols of inner realities of the soul. Till we can do this, New Testament language is sure to be a hindrance to any true apprehension of the moral value of the gospel of Christ. The only salvation we need trouble about is the change from selfishness to love, "We know that we have passed from death unto life because we love." This change is equivalent to a resurrection, the uprising of the eternal Christ within us. It is also an ascension, the uplifting and uniting of the soul to the eternal Father. But such a resurrection and ascension may be preceded by a great deal of pain when the soul is shedding the husk of selfishness. There is no dodging the consequences of sin; that is absolutely impossible. A saviour may suffer with and for the sinner, but the sinner must suffer too. The suffering is not a mark of God's anger, but of his love; so far from salvation being a means of screening us from it, the pain is a means by which the salvation takes effect. It is the true self asserting its dominion over the false. Heaven and hell are states of the soul, and the latter implies the former. It is life that suffers, not death. When a guilty soul awakens to the truth, hell begins, but it is because heaven wants to break through. The aim and object of salvation are not the getting of a man into heaven, but the getting of heaven into him. There is nothing horrifying about the law of retribution, although it is inexorable in its operation. It is an evidence of our divine origin, our own true being asserting itself against the fetters of evil. But it is the Christ that saves us, not the retribution; the retribution only shows that the Christ is there, and that from the Calvary caused by sin, and from the tomb in which the true self lies buried, He will rise in glorious majesty in the soul and unite us in the bonds of love to the eternal divine humanity which is God. +Physical death of minor importance.+--It follows from what has now been said that all these familiar terms imply each other, and that death, judgment, heaven, and hell cannot properly be regarded as the "Last Things." They are all here now, here within the soul, just as infinity and eternity are here now. It is not a matter of hither and yonder, but of higher and lower. Physical death is not the all-important event which theologians have usually made it out to be; it is only a bend in the road. My own impression is that when we individually pass through this crisis, we shall find the change to be very slight. It will mean the dropping of the scales from the eyes, and that is about all. The things we have been living for on this side will only profit us in so far as they have gone to the building up of a Christlike character. If a man has been living for false and unworthy ideals, he will quickly find it out; the only possession he can take to the other side of death is what he is. Belief in the atoning merits and the finished work of a Saviour will not compensate for wasted opportunities and selfish deeds; these latter will light the fires of retribution as the soul awakes to its true condition, and then, and not till then perhaps, will the indwelling Christ obtain His opportunity. Nor will the absence of a formal creed shut any good man out of heaven; it is impossible to shut a man out from what he is. What we sow we reap, and we do so just because of what we fundamentally are. Every road to evil ends in a _cul-de-sac_. Sooner or later every soul will have to learn that it is no use kicking against the pricks; we must learn by the consequences of our mistakes that, being what we are, the children of the Highest, we cannot permanently rest in anything less than the love of God. Salvation and Atonement are just as operative on the other side of death as on this. The blind soul goes on for a while in its blundering selfishness, and the Christ spirit, the spirit of universal love, goes on seeking to win it to the truth. In the end the truth must prevail if only because we shall have to learn that the lie is not worth while. +Evidence for immortality of the soul.+--No doubt there are some readers of these pages who profess themselves agnostic or indifferent with regard to the question of immortality, and I am not going to argue with them. It seems to me probable that before very long it will be impossible to deny it. The mass of evidence for the persistence of individual self-consciousness after death is increasing rapidly and is being subjected to the strictest scientific investigation. Men like Sir William Crookes and Sir Oliver Lodge, men whose words are entitled to respect from the point of view of modern science, have publicly admitted the importance of such evidence; before long the scientific world in general will have to take it into consideration. But to me such evidence does not greatly matter, and I know very little about it at first hand. I build my belief in immortality on the conviction that the fundamental reality of the universe is consciousness, and that no consciousness can ever be extinguished, for it belongs to the whole and must be fulfilled in the whole. The one unthinkable supposition from this point of view is that any kind of being which has ever become aware of itself, that is, has ever contained a ray of the eternal consciousness, can perish. CHAPTER XIII THE CHURCH AND THE KINGDOM Of GOD +Order of the subject.+--From the consideration of the true significance of such terms as Salvation, Judgment, Heaven, and Hell, we now turn to one which might be thought to occupy a relatively inferior position and to precede them in order of time. But if we have been right in holding that such terms as we have already examined represent states of the soul beginning here and now, we have considered them in their rightful place, for now we have to see how these states of the soul find expression in human institutions. In a word, I wish to devote some space to the consideration of the great subjects of the Church and the Kingdom of God in relation to one another. What is the Church? Where did the idea spring from? What had Jesus to do with it originally? What is the Kingdom of God, and how do the various Christian societies which call themselves churches stand in regard to it to-day? To answer any of these questions we must try to place ourselves to some extent in the intellectual and moral atmosphere of those amongst whom the ideas first arose. Let us take the Kingdom first. +Origin of the idea of the Kingdom of God.+--At the time when Jesus came every person of Jewish nationality was looking for the establishment of what had come to be called the Kingdom of God. For many generations the Jews had been a subject race. There had been one brief period of national splendour and prosperity, namely, the reigns of David and Solomon. After generations were inclined to idealise these two reigns, especially the former, and to look upon them as a kind of golden age. David they looked upon as an ideal monarch; they called him a "man after God's own heart," and the imagination of poet and prophet loved to dwell upon his winsome personality. They thought of him as in a special way the king chosen by God, and the Israel of his time as a true kingdom of God, a kingdom of righteousness, peace, and plenty under the favour of the Most High. The real Israel of David's day was far different from this, but compared with the days that followed it was indeed a time of unexampled greatness. A similar tendency to idealise the past is observable in nearly every nation which has entered upon a period of suffering or misfortune, as we can see from the legends about King Olaf and Frederick Barbarossa. But Israel always looked upon herself as in a special way a theocratic kingdom, a chosen of God. At its best this idea was a fine one, one, it led to the thought of a special spiritual vocation for the sake of the other nations of the earth; at its worst it meant the assertion of national privilege and contempt for everything which was not Jewish. After the great captivity in Babylon the Jews were never without a foreign master, and the northern kingdom of Israel disappeared from history. But in quite a remarkable way Jewish poets and preachers united to keep alive the popular belief that God would yet "restore the kingdom to Israel." Hence there grew up a firmly held conviction that God would sometime raise up a prince born of David's line who with supernatural help, and with a strong hand, would drive out the invader and establish a kingdom which should outshine even that of David himself. This was the root idea of the kingdom of God, as we meet it in the New Testament, and as it is described in some of the most beautiful passages of the Old. +The Messiah of Jewish expectation.+--As time went on this idea was deepened and clarified and became more and more associated in popular expectation with the advent of the Messianic deliverer whose work it should be to inaugurate it. At the time when Jesus was born this expectation had become very keen. Everyone was thinking of it, from Pharisees and Scribes downward. At the moment the foreign master was the Roman, whose rule, though milder than that of the Ptolemies, was quite severe enough; the people were impoverished and unhappy. What they were looking for was a Messiah, a transcendent but quite human personality of royal descent, who should expel the Roman eagles and inaugurate suddenly and completely an era of peace and prosperity the like of which had never been known before, a true kingdom of God. One extension of this idea was that Israel should replace the Roman empire as the suzerain of all the other nations of the earth. "Arise, shine; for thy light is come, and the glory of the Lord is risen upon thee. For, behold, the darkness shall cover the earth, and gross darkness the people: but the Lord shall rise upon thee, and his glory shall be seen upon thee. And the Gentiles shall come to thy light, and kings to the brightness of thy rising.... And the sons of strangers shall build up thy walls, and their kings shall minister unto thee: for in my wrath I smote thee, but in my favour have I had mercy on thee. Therefore thy gates shall be open continually; they shall not be shut day nor night; that men may bring unto thee forces of the Gentiles, and that their kings may be brought. For the nation and kingdom that will not serve thee shall perish; yea, those nations shall be utterly wasted.... The sons also of them that afflicted thee shall come bending unto thee; and all they that despised thee shall bow themselves down at the soles of thy feet; and they shall call thee, The city of the Lord, The Zion of the Holy One of Israel." This fine passage shows pretty clearly what was the general idea as to the nature of the anticipated kingdom of God. It meant that the Jewish Messiah was to take the place of Caesar and reign with undisputed sway from his capital of Jerusalem. But we should do an injustice to the subject if we failed to allow for the fact that according to the prophetic ideal this kingdom was to be a blessing to the world, and to abolish all violence and oppression; the kingdom of God was to be a kingdom of universal peace and joy, a kingdom of righteousness based on social justice. It was because of this widespread expectation that the austere preacher, John the Baptist, obtained his hearing in the wilderness of Judea. All John had to preach about was the kingdom of God, which he declared to be near at hand. He believed that he had been sent to herald the coming of the Messiah, and from his words we can gather what people thought about the Messiah: "Whose fan is in his hand, and he will thoroughly purge his floor, and gather his wheat into the garner; but he will burn up the chaff with unquenchable fire." According to the Baptist, the Messiah would spare no kind of sham or hypocrisy; he would root out and utterly destroy every kind of social evil, no matter what. John insisted that it would be of no use for Jews to imagine that simply because they were descendants of Abraham they would escape this general visitation; hence his words to the Pharisees were particularly scathing: "O generation of vipers, who hath warned you to flee from the wrath to come?" It is clear, therefore, that, in the opinion of the man who has now come to be regarded as the forerunner of Jesus, the kingdom of God was to be an earthly kingdom, was to come suddenly, and was to be inaugurated by a sort of general judgment or clean sweep of all the elements that made for oppression, cruelty, foul living, and pretentiousness of every kind. It had not the remotest reference to a world to come or a Divine Redeemer whose principal duty it should be to suffer and die in order to secure a blessed immortality for those who believed in Him. +Jesus' idea of the kingdom.+--How far Jesus shared these ideas at the commencement of His own ministry it is impossible to say, but it seems clear that He was attracted by the moral earnestness of John and wished to associate Himself with those who were looking for a kingdom of God which should mean the establishment and realisation of the moral ideal in all human relations. But at the baptism a purpose long forming in his mind appears to have taken definite shape. He felt Himself called to preach the good news of a kingdom which could begin at once in the heart of any man who was willing to become the instrument of divine love and the expression of the ideal of human brotherhood. He went into the wilderness to think this out and then came back to teach it. I do not think He imagined that it could be realised quickly and easily, but it seems fairly obvious that at first He expected that men would be so glad to hear about it that they would hasten to avail themselves of it. All through His ministry He spoke of little else, and it was because of what He had to say about the nature of the kingdom that His followers were attracted to Him. Hence, too, we have the deathless teaching preserved for us in the synoptical gospels: "Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.... Blessed are the pure in heart for they shall see God." The meaning of Jesus is perfectly clear and perfectly simple. It is that if a kingdom of universal brotherhood is ever to be realised on earth, it can only come by the operation of universal good will. This has been much too simple for most of the theologians, and so they have endeavoured to twist and torture it out of all recognition. As time went on, however, Jesus came to see that it would not be realised as quickly as even He had thought. Men could not or would not understand; they were looking for a kingdom which should mean plenty to eat and drink, and universal dominion for the sons of Abraham. Even His most immediate followers were unable to divest themselves of this notion, and it is plain enough that they went on hoping even to the end that Jesus would head a revolt and establish a kingdom in which they themselves would hold positions of dignity and importance: "Grant that we may sit, the one on thy right hand and the other on thy left in thy kingdom." The striking rebuke which Jesus administered to these pretensions, by setting a little child in the midst of the jealous men, will never be forgotten while the world lasts. Jesus _did_ believe in an earthly kingdom of righteousness, peace, and joy, but it is evident that He would have nothing to say to violence as a means of realising it. He even believed that the kingdom had already come in the heart of any man who was desirous of being at one with God and man and denied himself in the effort to do it: "And when he was demanded of the Pharisees, when the kingdom of God should come, he answered them and said, The kingdom of God cometh not with observation: Neither shall they say, Lo here! or, lo there! for, behold, the kingdom of God is within you." +Early Christian idea of the kingdom.+--An important fact, which I do not think is generally recognised, is that the first Christians thought almost precisely what the Jews did about the kingdom of God. Most people are accustomed to think of Christianity as having been from the first a religion which had principally to do with getting men ready for the next world. We can hardly think about it apart from ecclesiastical buildings, choirs, baptisms, confirmations, prayers for the sick and dying, and so on. So much have we been accustomed to think of it in this way that the average man reads his New Testament with these assumptions in the background of his mind. But this is certainly not New Testament Christianity. The apostles and their followers believed like the Jews in the sudden establishment of an ideal commonwealth upon earth. This was how they understood the Lord's prayer, "Thy kingdom come, thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven." They did not even wish to separate from Judaism, and it is clear from Paul's letters that there was at one time a great danger that the new faith might become a mere Jewish sect. The Christians differed from the Jews, not in their ideal concerning the kingdom, but in their greater moral intensity and enthusiasm, as well as in their profound conviction that the Lord Jesus was God's chosen instrument for realising this kingdom, and that He would presently return to earth and do it. Any unbiassed reader of the New Testament can see for himself that the primitive Christians lived in hourly expectation that this was what would happen. Of course they also believed in their Master's continual spiritual presence with them, but the dominant thought in their minds was that of a dramatic second coming and the inauguration of a reign of righteousness and universal peace, the making of a beautiful world, something like the Utopia of Mr. H. G. Wells. Nor was this altogether a delusion. If it had been, Christianity would soon have died. But, on the contrary, it lived and grew because of the great truth behind this belief, namely, that the Spirit of Christ working in the hearts of men is gradually producing this ideal kingdom in our midst. If, with this view of the character of early Christianity in our minds, we go afresh to the gospels or to the letters of Paul, we shall find it abundantly confirmed. There is no getting away from it. All the earnestness and enthusiasm of these first Christians were centred upon the belief in the near advent of a divine kingdom upon earth with Jesus as its head. This belief even affected the practice of these early Christians in regard to the disposal of their property. To understand this, let us put ourselves in their place and ask what we should do if we were possessed by the conviction that the whole existing social order might come to an end to-morrow morning or next week, and that after that no child of God would ever want for anything. I think we should be sure to feel that the holding of personal property would not matter much. If, in addition to this, our hearts were filled with a divine enthusiasm, an overmastering love for Jesus and for all our brethren, we should not want to keep anything back that could serve to make anyone happier for the short time that intervened before the glorious coming of the Lord. This was just how the primitive Christians felt. They had no organised economic system; no one was compelled to give anything, but under the pressure of the new spirit they willingly gave everything. What did it matter? they thought; they were only like pilgrims within sight of home, or watchers waiting for the morning. +Origin of the idea of the church.+--Where, then, did the idea of the church come from? It is as plain as anything can be that the primary interest of early Christianity was the kingdom of God. It took the conception over from Judaism with a deeper moral content derived from the preaching and the life of Jesus. Its first adherents did not even know that they had a new religion; they only thought they had found the true Messiah, although the Jewish nation as a whole had rejected Him. What they wanted above everything was to see the kingdom come upon earth, and we now know that they were mistaken in imagining that it would be established speedily and suddenly by the visible second coming of Jesus on the clouds of heaven. But seeing that they were thinking of it in this way, how did the church arise and why? It is doubtful if Jesus ever used the word "church," for the two verses in Matthew in which He is credited with it are probably of late date and point to a time when the ecclesiastical organisation was fairly well established. Still the word itself has an interest and a history of its own apart from its Christian use. The _ecclesia_, as most of my readers may be aware, was the assembly of the citizens of any Greek city-state. It was the custom for the whole body of the members of a Greek self-governing community to be called together from time to time for the transaction of public business. This assembly was the final authority in matters affecting the communal welfare, and even after the various Greek states became absorbed in the Roman empire this custom was allowed to continue. It was the policy of the Romans to permit a large measure of self-government to their subjects of any alien race, and therefore the _ecclesia_ of any particular city-state continued to be summoned as usual to decide upon matters of local importance. There is a reference to this in the nineteenth chapter of the Acts, where we read that the preaching of Christianity in Ephesus caused a riot which the town clerk--a thoroughly typical town clerk!--succeeded in allaying by reminding the demonstrators that if they had any real cause for complaint, the matter ought to come before the regular _ecclesia_. This properly constituted _ecclesia_ to which the level-headed town clerk referred was the general assembly of the citizens for the transaction of public business. It was quite natural that the primitive Christians should have come to adopt this word, and to an extent this very idea, as a convenient description of the new Christian community. After the departure of their Master the Christians held together, and wherever their missionaries went, new communities sprang up, animated by a spirit of loyalty to Jesus and a desire to realise His ideal for mankind. It was quite natural, too, that the apostles should recognise all these communities as being in reality one community for fellowship of faith and love; it was the _ecclesia_, or assembly, or society of Jesus, the beginning of the church of Christ, as it soon came to be called. There was no elaborate organisation; nothing could have been simpler. Every Christian seems to have thought that as it would not be long before the Master came again, the wise and right thing to do was for His followers to hold together and witness Him to the world, until that great event took place. +Church only exists for the sake of the kingdom.+--But how far did Jesus foresee and intend this? It is difficult to say, but his choice of twelve apostles whom He carefully trained to continue His work is evidence that He contemplated the formation of some kind of society to give effect to His teaching. The number twelve points to the probability that He thought of this society as a kind of new Israel, a spiritual Israel, which should do for the world what the older Israel had failed to do, that is, bring about the kingdom of God. I have already pointed out that in my judgment Jesus did not believe, as His contemporaries did, that that kingdom could be established suddenly from without, but held that it could only be achieved by spiritual forces working from within. His _ecclesia_ has lived and grown. It has survived for nineteen centuries, and is likely to survive for many centuries more. It has played a leading part in the making of modern civilisation. But it is no longer a unity, and many different theories exist as to its meaning and worth. _The sacerdotal theory._--Broadly speaking, however, there are two outstanding views as to the scope and function of the _ecclesia_, or church of Jesus. One is the sacerdotal, and the other is what, for want of a better name, I may term the evangelical. In outline the former is as follows: before Jesus finally withdrew His bodily presence from His disciples He formally constituted a religious society to represent Him on earth. This society was to be the ark of salvation, the "sphere of covenanted grace." Its principal work was to call men out of a lost and ruined world and secure for them a blessed immortality; those who were members of this church, and only they, were certain of heaven. Membership therein was clearly defined; the gateway was baptism. Those who were baptized in a proper way, even though they were unconscious infants, were members of the church of Christ and all others were outside. Within this sacred society souls were to be trained in rightness of living, and, to an extent, made fit for heaven. The Holy Spirit abiding in this society would sanctify the individual members and guide them into all the truth. It is even held that Jesus definitely appointed the way in which this church was to be governed. Its affairs were to be managed by a threefold order,--bishops, priests, and deacons. But here a division has taken place amongst the sacerdotalists themselves owing to the necessity of finding some final authority, some living voice, within this visible society to which appeal in the last resort could be made. Romanists have found this in the bishop of Rome whom they regard as the episcopal successor of the apostle Peter. Devout Anglicans take their stand upon the faith as defined by the first four general Councils, while in administrative matters they regard the bishop as independent. The Greek church also insists upon its autonomy. This sacerdotal view has exercised enormous influence in Christian history, and I have sufficient of the historic imagination to be able to say that at certain times it has undoubtedly worked on the whole for good. But did Jesus really found a church of this kind? I am quite sure He never thought of such a thing, and historical criticism of Christian origins does not leave the sacerdotalist much to stand on. Jesus appointed neither bishop nor priest, and never ordained that any merely mechanical ceremony should be the means of admission to the Christian society or be necessary to the eternal welfare of anyone. In the early church the bishop or elder was the president of the little Christian society meeting in any particular locality. Primitive Christian organisation was anything but rigid and formal, and was as far as possible from the sacerdotal model. I do not say that the sacerdotal mode of organisation which gradually grew up was wholly mischievous, nor do I say that the primitive Christian organisation would be the best under all circumstances. All I maintain is that in founding His new society Jesus did not ordain any particular form of organisation. +The evangelical theory.+--The other view of the meaning of the word "church" to which I have already referred, is that it is the totality of the followers of Jesus. Under this view organisation is a secondary matter. There are many reasons why Christian societies should organise themselves differently from one another. Temperament plays a great part in the matter. But theories of church government have ceased to be the burning questions that they once were. Most sensible men are now satisfied that forms of government matter much less than the kind of life which flourishes in the society itself. +What the church exists for to-day.+--But what does the church exist for, using the word in its primitive sense? What ought it to exist for to-day? What is the justification for all the vast number of Christian organisations which exist throughout the world? This is a subject upon which a clear note needs to be sounded, for a great deal of mental confusion exists in regard to it. Two inconsistent views of the work of the church, as well as of the constitution of the church, have come down the ages together and exist side by side in the world to-day. The first is that the chief business of the church is to snatch men as brands from the burning and get them ready for a future heaven. The Fall theory has had much to do with this. The assumption behind it is, as we have seen, that the world is a City of Destruction, as Bunyan calls it. It is a ruined world, a world which has somehow baffled and disappointed God, a failure of a world which, when the cup of its iniquity is full, will be utterly destroyed as a general judgment. When that dreadful day comes it will be bad for all those who are outside the fellowship of Christ, for, like those who have died without availing themselves of the means of salvation, they will be relegated to everlasting torment in the world unseen. This view of the fate of the world as being at enmity with God, and of the duty of the church to persuade as many as possible to believe something or other in order to secure salvation in a future and better world, has been held by sacerdotalists and non-sacerdotalists, Catholics and Protestants alike. It is still implied in most of our preaching and in the hymns we sing. I admit that there is a certain truth in it, the truth that man is constituted for immortality and ought not to live as if this world were all that mattered. But on the whole, it has been thoroughly mischievous, and there is nothing which is acting as a greater hindrance to the spirituality and usefulness of the churches to-day. It is based on an entirely false idea as to the relation of God and the world. +To save the world.+--But alongside of this view a far higher and nobler one has been present to the minds of Christians in every century, namely, that the work of the church is to save the world and to believe that it is worth the saving. If what I have already said be true, this is the idea which was in the mind of Jesus when He founded His _ecclesia_. To Him the purpose of the _ecclesia_ was to help to realise the kingdom of God by preaching and living the fellowship of love. Ever since His day those who have been nearest to Him in spirit have been going forth into the dark places of the earth trying to win men to the realisation of the great ideal of a universal fellowship of love based on a common relationship to the God and Father of us all. This is what Augustine aimed at in his City of God. It was what Ambrose had in mind when he excommunicated the emperor Theodosius for having ordered a cruel massacre of some of his rebellious subjects. It was the ideal of the mighty Hildebrand, grim and arrogant though he was, when he compelled princes to bow their haughty necks and do justice to the weak. It was what Bernard of Clairvaux meant to declare when he defied the cruel and sensual king of France to approach the altar of Christ. Savonarola realised it for a brief moment in Florence, Calvin in Geneva, the Covenanters in Scotland, the Puritans in England, the Pilgrim Fathers in America. They all failed because the world can never be saved by the imposition of ideal institutions from without and by force; it can only be by the spirit of Christ working from within. But to some extent they all succeeded, too, for the world is a better place to live in because of the gradual and cumulative redemptive effort of the Christian _ecclesia_, the Church of Jesus. On the other side of the ledger we have to set many things that ecclesiasticism has done,--cruel persecutions, infamous tortures, burnings and massacres, devastating wars, and fierce religious hatreds. But these things have never belonged to Jesus; they are the very negation of His spirit. The true church of Christ in any and every age consists of those and those only who are trying like their Master to make the world better and gladder and worthier of God. The word "church" has become so hateful to many because of the admixture of other ideals with this that I sometimes wish something could be done either to get rid of it or to change it for another which shall fully and clearly express what Jesus really came to do. I maintain that the church has nothing whatever to do with preparing men for a world to come; the best way to prepare a man for the world beyond is to get him to live well and truly in this one. The church exists to make the world a kingdom of God, and to fill it with His love. No greater mistake could be made than to estimate the church of Jesus by ecclesiastical squabbles and divisions, or even by Psalm-singing and go-to-meeting talk. Look for the spirit of Jesus at work, and you have found the church too. +Modern industrialism and the church.+--Judged by this standard where are the churches to-day? We have seen that the only gospel which Jesus had to preach was the gospel of the kingdom of God; everything He ever said can be included under that head. His Church, or Christian society, or whatever else we like to call it, has no meaning unless it exists for the realisation of the kingdom of God. We cannot state this too strongly. The whole of the other-worldism of the churches, the elaborate paraphernalia of doctrine and observance, is utterly useless and worse than useless unless it ministers to this end. Unless it can be shown that I am wrong in this supposition--and I think that will be pretty hard to do--a fairly good case could be made out for burning down most of the theological colleges in the land and sending the bright young fellows in them to do some serious work for the common good. For it must be confessed, as I said at the beginning, that the churches are to a large extent a failure. We cannot but recognise, for one thing, that our modern civilisation, with all its boasted advance on the past, is still un-Christian. It puts a premium upon selfishness. Modern industrialism is cruel and unjust and directly incites men to self-seeking. The weak and unfortunate have to go to the wall; little mercy is shown to the man who is not strong enough to fight his way and keep his footing in the struggle for existence. We are all the time making war upon one another,--man against man, business against business, class against class, nation against nation. We talk of our freedom, but no man is really free, and the great majority of us are slaves to some corporation, or capitalist, or condition of things, which renders the greater part of life a continuous anxiety lest health or means should fail and we should prove unequal to the demands made upon us. If a man goes under, his acquaintances will pity him for five minutes and then forget all about him. There is no help for it; they cannot do anything else, they have their own living to get. They are like soldiers in the heat of battle; they must not pause to mourn over a fallen comrade or they may soon be stretched beside him. I do not mean, of course, to make the foolish statement that present-day industrialism is unrestrainedly individualistic: thank God it is not that. But the principle of competition still exercises a sway so potent as to stamp modern social organisation as un-Christian. We may just as well recognise that fact and state it plainly. The glaringly unequal ownership of material wealth is anti-social; it is good neither for the rich man nor for the poor, for it is to the interest of every man that the body politic should be healthy and happy. That so large a number of our total population should have to exist upon the very margin of subsistence is a moral wrong. We have no business to have any slums, or sweating dens, or able-bodied unemployed, or paupers. Poverty, dulness of brain, and coarseness of habit are often found in close association. Some amount of material endowment is required even for the development of the intelligence and the training of the moral faculties. Wealth possesses no value in itself; it only possesses value as a means to more abundant life. If there is one thing upon which Christianity insists more than another, it is the duty of caring for the weak and sinful, but at present this duty is only recognised to a very limited extent. +Christianity and Collectivism.+--In what I am now saying I am well aware that I have come to a phase of my subject which thousands of my countrymen are stating so clearly and forcibly as to compel attention; but what I want to show is that the present unideal condition of the civilised world is an indictment of the churches and their conventional doctrines. We seem to have forgotten our origin. I have long felt, as I suppose every Christian minister must feel, the antagonism between the Christian standard of conduct and that required in ordinary business life. There is no blinking the fact that the standard of Christ and the standard of the commercial world are not the same. Our work is to make them the same, and to that end we must destroy the social system which makes selfishness the rule and compels a man to act upon his lower motives, and we must put a better in its place. We must establish a social order wherein a man can be free to be his best, and to give his best to the community without crushing or destroying anyone else. In a word we want Collectivism in the place of competition; we want the kingdom of God. Charity is no remedy for our social ills and their moral outcome; the only remedy is a new social organisation on a Christian basis. I do not believe that any form of Collectivism, as a mere system superposed from without, can ever really make the world happy; it must be the expression of the spirit of brotherhood working from within. Neither do I feel much faith in any sudden and cataclysmic reformation of society. The history of Christendom proves that no institution can be much in advance of human nature and survive. Covenanters and Puritans found that out when they tried to make men godly by Act of Parliament; Savonarola found it out when the wild passions of the Florentines, restrained for a brief hour, broke their chains and destroyed him; the Christians of New Testament times found it out when their beautiful experiment of social brotherhood came to an end in the horror and darkness of the break-up of Jewish national life. But at least we can recognise the presence of the guiding Spirit of God in all our social concerns and work along with it for the realisation of the ideal of universal brotherhood. We can show men what Jesus really came to do, and, as His servants, we can help Him to do it. We can definitely recognise that the movement toward social regeneration is really and truly a spiritual movement, and that it must never be captured by materialism. I deplore the fact that, for the moment, the main current of the great Labour movement which, perhaps more than any other, represents the social application of the Christian ideal, should appear to be out of touch with organised religion. This cannot continue, for I observe that the men who lead it are men of moral passion, and often men of simple religious faith. It could hardly be otherwise. It seems to me in the nature of things impossible to sustain a belief in the moral ideal without some kind of belief in God, and assuredly God is with these men in the work they are doing and have yet to do. In fact, the Labour Party is itself a Church, in the sense in which that word was originally used, for it represents the getting-together of those who want to bring about the kingdom of God. +The New Theology and Collectivism.+--The New Theology, as I understand it, is the theology of this movement, whether the movement knows it or not, for it is essentially the gospel of the kingdom of God. No lesser theology can consistently claim to be this; systems of belief which are weighted by dogmatic considerations have not and cannot have the same power of appeal. This higher, wider truth, which sweeps away the mischievous accretions which have made religion distasteful to the masses, is religious articulation of the movement toward an ideal social order. This fact ought to be realised and brought home to the consciousness of the earnest men who are labouring to redeem England and the world from the power of all that tortures and degrades humanity and stifles or destroys its best life. This, then, is the mission of the New Theology. It is to brighten and keep burning the flame of the spiritual ideal in the midst of the mighty social movement which is now in progress. It is ours to see God in it and help mankind to see Him too. It is ours to show what the gospel really is and has been from the first. We shall not suffer the world any longer to believe that Christianity and dogma mean the same thing. Our business is to show that the religion of Jesus is primarily a gospel for this life and only secondarily for the life to come. We have to demonstrate that material things have spiritual meanings, and that wealth has value only as it ministers to soul power. We have to make clear to the world that the reason why we want to lift any man up and give him a chance of a better and happier life here is because he has an immortal destiny and must make a beginning somewhere if he is to reach the stature of the perfect man at last. We believe that faith is the one indispensable qualification for this work, as for any work that is worth the doing, or ever has been worth the doing, in the history of mankind. It is the victory that overcometh the world. CHAPTER XIV CONCLUSION +A personal word.+--The task which has occupied the greater part of my winter resting time has now been accomplished, as far as opportunity affords. What has been said in these pages is no more than an outline statement of the teaching which has been given from the City Temple pulpit ever since I came into it. There is not a single thought in this book with which my own people are not already quite familiar, and chapter and verse for it can be produced from my published sermons which have been appearing week by week for years past in the _Christian Commonwealth_ and other periodicals. If space had permitted, I should like to have said much more, for necessarily many phases of the subject have had to be left untouched; it has only been possible to deal with those of fundamental importance. For example, I should like to have included some examination of the great question of Miracles, the place of Prayer in Christian experience, and the value and significance of Biblical Criticism. But as it has not been possible to do this I must add a word or two to indicate my position in regard to these matters. +Miracle.+--It seems probable that before long we shall see a rehabilitation of belief in the credibility of certain kinds of miracle, and that this rehabilitation will proceed from the side of psychical science. Already there are signs that this rehabilitation is on the way. The power of mind over matter is being recognised for therapeutic purposes, for instance, in a way hitherto undreamed of, and is receiving a large and increasing measure of attention from the medical profession. This appears to me to throw a considerable amount of light upon the healing ministry of Jesus, which, as the late Professor A. B. Bruce has pointed out, rests upon as good historical ground as the best-accredited parts of the teaching. Given a time and a mental atmosphere in which men expected miracles of this sort, and given a personality of such wonderful magnetic force as that of Jesus, such miracles would be sure to happen. That they did not happen apart from such conditions is evident from such hints as the statement that, "He could do no mighty works there because of their unbelief." There are other kinds of miracle recorded in scripture which are not so easily credible, but I am not always prepared to brush them aside as mere childish fancies. As a rule it will be found that they belong to the poetry of religious experience, and that some valuable truth is contained in this particular form of statement. To this order belong the accounts about the horses and chariots of fire on the hillside round about Elisha, the whirlwind in which Elijah ascended to heaven, and Jesus walking on the sea. These accounts are forms in which the oriental imagination is, even to-day, wont to clothe truths too great for prosaic statement; they are poetry, not history, and the western mind ought to make allowance for the fact. Sometimes we can discern in scripture records of an event, which to the stolid western imagination seems utterly incredible, a genuine historical truth. Such, for instance, are the passage of the Red Sea--a stirring and dramatic incident, thoroughly well told--and Joshua commanding the sun and moon to stand still. In the latter case we have two lines of poetry from a book which has been lost, and a comparison with similar poetry in almost any literature gives us a clew to its meaning. The poet represents the old warrior as declaring in magnificent style that the sun of Israel shall not go down, and that day and night shall be alike to him until her enemies are discomfited. Any reader with a shred of sympathetic imagination ought to be able to feel the force of the sentiment which provoked this utterance without either accepting or rejecting it as a literal statement of fact; the best things which have been written in the books of the world are seldom literal and exact statements of fact. It has been well pointed out that myth and legend are truer than history, for they take us to the inside of things, whereas history only shows us the outside. +Prayer.+--Prayer is a vital necessity to religious experience, and without it no religious experience has ever existed or ever can. It is not primarily petition but communion with God. Our intercourse with our friends does not chiefly consist in asking them for things! But when communion does become petition, there is a real place for it as well as for the answer to such prayer. It is not too much to say that no true prayer has ever gone without its answer. This is quite consistent with the assertion that prayer does not change God; it only affords Him opportunity. It is impossible to improve on what God already desires for us before we pray, but upon our prayer depends the realisation of that desire. Everything that the soul can possibly need is present beforehand in the eternal reality, and the prayer of faith is like going into a treasure-house and bringing forth from what is contained therein all that the soul needs day by day. Prayer, therefore, cannot be too definite, but it should be as unselfish as the worshipper can make it in order that the highest can operate in response. The same law holds good in this as in all other activities of the soul; selfishness draws away from the source of life, whereas love is instantly at one with infinity. I question whether many people realise the enormous value of definite and systematic prayer; it is the secret of all spiritual power. Everything that we can possibly want is waiting for us in the bounty of God, and what we have to do is to go and take it. "Believe that ye have received them and ye shall have them." +The Bible and the young.+--One thing that urgently needs to be done for the young people in our Sunday-schools and various Christian societies all over the world is to issue a series of well-written popular manuals presenting in succinct form the best results of Biblical Criticism. The way the Bible is taught to young people at present is most regrettable, for in after years it leads them to doubt and distrust the very foundations of Christianity. If the teachers only had a little more intelligent acquaintance with the sources of the scriptures, this danger would be avoided and the Bible would become a far more interesting and helpful book both to young and old. At present it is interpreted by many people in a way which is an insult to the intelligence and harmful to the moral sense. Will anyone seriously maintain that the trickeries of Jacob and the butcheries following the Israelitish invasion of Canaan, not to speak of the obscenities which are to be found in so many parts of the Old Testament, are healthy reading for children or a mark of divine inspiration? Is it not time we adopted the more excellent way of facing the truth about the Bible records and presenting what is valuable in such a way as to help and not to hinder the growth of a true knowledge of the relations of God and man? In conclusion, let me say emphatically that no one but myself is responsible for a single word in this book. Among the many wild and unjust criticisms which have been published concerning my views, none is wider of the mark than that I have borrowed from this man or that in my statement of them. I am not conscious of owing a scintilla of my theology to any living man. In so far as it coincides with anyone else's views I am thankful, for it shows that the same eternal Spirit of Truth is speaking to others than myself. But I hope I may be permitted to say with due humility that in thinking out my position, "I conferred not with flesh and blood." Perhaps some people will maintain that this makes my teaching all the worse, but if so I cannot help it. It can hardly be denied that in its main bearing, to say no more, it is seen to be rising spontaneously in every part of the civilised world. Again, no thinker can ever succeed in completely closing the circle of his system of thought, and I cannot claim to be an exception. But I trust it will be seen that what is contained in this book is at least a self-consistent whole: every arc of the circle implies every other. It only remains to reiterate my conviction that the movement represented by the New Theology is only incidentally theological at all; it is primarily a moral and spiritual movement. It is one symptom of a great religious awakening which in the end will re-inspire civilisation with a living faith in God and the spiritual meaning of life. If what I am trying to do can contribute in any way toward this grand result, I shall be humbly thankful to the Giver of all good. 
28103	----	EVANGELICAL UNION DOCTRINAL SERIES. (_FIFTH ISSUE_.) THE DOCTRINES OF PREDESTINATION, REPROBATION, AND ELECTION. _EVANGELICAL UNION DOCTRINAL SERIES._ _The following Volumes of the Series are now ready, Price is. 6d. each:_-- REGENERATION: Its Conditions and Methods. By the Rev. ROBERT CRAIG, M.A. THE FATHERHOOD OF GOD. By the Rev. ROBERT MITCHELL. THE HOLY SPIRIT'S WORK: Its Nature and Extent. By the Rev. GEORGE CRON. THE NATURE OF THE ATONEMENT. By the Rev. WILLIAM ADAMSON, D.D. _OTHERS IN PREPARATION._ THE DOCTRINES OF PREDESTINATION, REPROBATION, AND ELECTION. BY ROBERT WALLACE, _Pastor of Cathcart Road E. U. Church, Glasgow._ LONDON: HAMILTON, ADAMS, & CO. GLASGOW: THOMAS D. MORISON. 1880. PREFACE. WERE a number of shipwrecked mariners cast upon an island, one of their first inquiries would be, Is it inhabited? Having observed footmarks upon the sand, and other tokens of man's presence, another question would be, What is the character of the people? Are they anthropophagi, or are they of a friendly disposition? The importance of such questions would be realised by all. Their lives might depend upon the answer to the latter. We look around upon the universe, and everywhere observe marks of design, or the adapation of means to ends. The conviction gathers upon us with deepening power, that there must have been a supreme intelligence arranging the forces of nature. If I throw the dice box twenty times, and the same numbers always turn up, I cannot resist the conclusion that the dice must have been loaded. The application is simple. But, as in the case of the mariners, a second question arises, viz.:--What is the character of the Being revealed in nature? Is He beneficent, or like the fabled Chronus, who devoured his children? It is substantially with this second question that the following work has to do. It is a treatise concerning the character of God. The subjects discussed have been for many years the occasion of much controversy and difficulty. Whilst to certain minds it were more agreeable to read exposition of Christian truth, yet the followers of Christ may often have to contend for the faith once delivered to the saints. Our Lord's public ministry showed how earnestly He contended for the truth. At every corner He was met by the men of "light and leading" amongst the Jews, and who did their best to oppose Him. Paul, too, when he lived at Ephesus, disputed "daily in the school of one Tyrannus, and this continued by the space of two years." The period of the Reformation was also one of earnest discussion between the adherents of the old faith and the followers of Luther. The questions discussed in those days, both in apostolic and post-apostolic times, were eminently practical; but they were not a whit more so than the questions of Predestination, Reprobation, and Election. These touch every man to the very centre of his being when he awakes from the sleep of indifference, and wishes to know the truth about the salvation of his soul. It has been our object, in the present volume, to dispel the darkness which has been thrown around those subjects, and to let every man see that the way back to the bosom of the heavenly Father is as free to him as the light of heaven. The following treatise consists of an Introduction bearing on the history of the questions discussed; Part I. treats of Predestination; Part II. is on Reprobation, and Part III. on Election. CONTENTS. INTRODUCTION. _PART I.--PREDESTINATION._ CHAPTER I. THE WORD PREDESTINATION, AND THE DOCTRINE AS HELD BY CALVINISTS. CHAPTER II. CALVINISTIC PREDESTINATION IN REFERENCE TO DIVINE WISDOM. CHAPTER III. THE DOCTRINE OF PREDESTINATION CONSIDERED WITH REFERENCE TO ALMIGHTY POWER. CHAPTER IV. PREDESTINATION CONSIDERED WITH REFERENCE TO DIVINE FOREKNOWLEDGE. CHAPTER V. PROOF-TEXTS FOR CALVINISTIC PREDESTINATION EXAMINED. CHAPTER VI. OBJECTIONS TO CALVINISTIC PREDESTINATION. CHAPTER VII. GENERAL SUMMARY OF THE DOCTRINE. _PART II.--REPROBATION._ CHAPTER I. THE CALVINISTIC DOCTRINE OF REPROBATION STATED. CHAPTER II. THE BIBLE USAGE OF THE WORD REPROBATION. CHAPTER III. PROOF-TEXTS FOR CALVINISTIC REPROBATION EXAMINED. CHAPTER IV. OBJECTIONS TO CALVINISTIC REPROBATION. CHAPTER V. SUMMARY OF THE BIBLE DOCTRINE OF REPROBATION. _PART III.--ELECTION._ CHAPTER I. THEORIES OF CALVINISTIC ELECTION. CHAPTER II. CALVINISTIC ELECTION INVOLVES POSITIVE REFUSAL TO PROVIDE SAVING GRACE FOR THE LOST. CHAPTER III. CALVINISTIC ELECTION CONSIDERED IN REFERENCE TO THE SOVEREIGNTY OF GOD. CHAPTER IV. CALVINISTIC ELECTION JUDGED BY THE REASON. CHAPTER V. BIBLE TEXTS IN PROOF OF CALVINISTIC ELECTION CONSIDERED. CHAPTER VI. OBJECTIONS TO THE CALVINISTIC DOCTRINE OF ELECTION. CHAPTER VII. THE SCRIPTURAL VIEW OF EVANGELICAL ELECTION. For God so loved the world that He gave His only beloved Son, that whosoever believeth in Him should not perish, but have everlasting life.--_Jesus._ I reject the Calvinistic doctrine of Predestination, not because it is incomprehensible, but because I think it irreconcilable with the justice and goodness of God.--_Bishop Tomlin._ God our Saviour will have all men to be saved.--_Paul._ THE DOCTRINES OF PREDESTINATION, REPROBATION, AND ELECTION. INTRODUCTION. REGARDING the predestinarian controversy, it has been said, "Hardly one among the many Christian controversies has called forth a greater amount of subtlety and power, and not one so long and so persistently maintained its vitality. Within the twenty-five years which followed its first appearance upwards of thirty councils (one of them the General Council of Ephesus) were held for the purpose of this discussion. It lay at the bottom of all the intellectual activity of the conflicts in the Mediaeval philosophic schools; and there is hardly a single subject which has come into discussion under so many different forms in modern controversy" (_Ch. Encyc_.) Although the controversy between Pelagius and Augustine began in the fifth century, it is an interesting inquiry--What was the mind of the earlier Christian writers on the subject? Of course their opinion cannot settle the truth of the question in debate, but it has a very important bearing upon the subject. The late Dr. Eadie claimed the voice of antiquity for the system of the Confession of Faith. He says, "The doctrine of predestination was held in its leading element by the ancient Church, by the Roman Clement, Ignatius, Hermas, Justin Martyr, and Irenaeus, before Augustine worked it into a system, and Jerome armed himself on its behalf" (_Ec. Cyc._) This statement may be fairly questioned, and, we think, successfully challenged. Dr. Cunningham, in his _Historical Theology_, remarks, "The doctrine of Arminius can be traced back as far as the time of Alexandrinus, and seems to have been held by many of the Fathers of the third and fourth centuries." He attributes this to the corrupting influence of Pagan philosophy (_Hist. Theo._, Vol. II., p. 374). This is not a direct contradiction to Eadie, but it shows that truth compelled this sturdy Calvinist to admit that non-Calvinistic views were held in the earlier and best period of the Church. The question, however, is one that must be decided by historical evidence, and not by authority. And what is that evidence? Mosheim, in writing of the founders of the English Church, says, "They wished to render their church as similar as possible to that which flourished in the early centuries, and that Church, as no one can deny, was an entire stranger to the Dordracene doctrines" (_Reid's Mos._, p. 821). The Synod of Dort met in A.D. 1618, and condemned the Arminian doctrine, and decided in favour of Calvinism; but, according to Mosheim, this system of Calvin was unknown to the early Church. Faber maintains the same. He says, "The scheme of interpretation now familiarly, though perhaps (if a scheme ought to be designated by the name of its _original_ contriver) not quite correctly, styled Calvinism, may be readily traced back in the Latin and Western Church to the time of Augustine. But here we find ourselves completely at fault. Augustine, at the beginning of the fifth century, is the first ecclesiastical writer who annexes to the Scriptural terms 'elect' and 'predestinate' the peculiar sense which is now usually styled Calvinistic. With him, in a form scarcely less round and perfect than that long and subsequently proposed by the celebrated Genevan reformer himself, commenced an entirely new system of interpretation previously unknown to the Church Catholic. What I state is a mere dry historical fact" (_Faber's Apos. Trin._, _Cooke's Theo._, p. 305). Prosper of Acquitania was a devoted friend and admirer of Augustine, and not wishing to be charged with propagating new views, wrote to the Bishop of Hippo (Augustine) desiring to know how he could refute the charge of novelty. "For," saith he, "having had recourse to the opinion of almost all that went before me concerning this matter, I find all of them holding one and the same opinion, in which they have received the purpose and the predestination of God according to His prescience; that for this cause God made some vessels of honour and other vessels of dishonour, because He foresaw the end of every man, and knew before how he would will and act" (_Whitby's Pos._, p. 449). This was a frank acknowledgment on the part of Prosper, who was a man of ability, and Secretary to Leo, and it carried much farther than was intended. The fact, however, was patent that the Christian Church for some four hundred years was a stranger to what is known as the doctrine of Calvin. The view thus stated is confirmed by Neander. When Prosper and Hilary appealed to the Bishop of Rome, they doubtless expected that he would favour the system of Augustine, and condemn the Semi-pelagians (modern E.U.'s). If so, they were mistaken. The bishop was chary, and whilst speaking contemptuously of those presbyters who raised "curious questions," he left it undecided what the curious questions were. He had said in his letter to the Gallic bishops, "Let the spirit of innovation, if there is such a spirit, cease to attack the ancient doctrines;" but he did not say what was ancient and what was novel. Neander upon this remarks: "The Semi-pelagians, in fact, also asserted, and they could do it with even more justice than their opponents, that by them the ancient doctrine of the Church was defended against the false doctrine recently introduced concerning absolute predestination, and against the denial of free-will tenets, wholly unknown to the ancient Church" (Vol. IV., p. 306). The concluding words are almost identical with those of Mosheim, just quoted. Bishop Tomline, who gave special attention to this phase of the subject--viz., the state of opinion in the Church previous to Augustine, says, "If Calvinists pretend that absolute decrees, the unconditional election and reprobation of individuals, particular redemption, irresistible grace, and the entire destruction of free -will in man in consequence of the fall, were the doctrines of the primitive Church, let them cite their authority, let them refer to the works in which these doctrines are actually taught. If such opinions were actually held we could not fail to meet with some of them in the various and voluminous works which are still extant. I assert that no such trace is to be found, and I challenge the Calvinist of the present day to produce an author prior to Augustine who maintained what are now called Calvinistic opinions" (Preface VII.) The extracts which he gives from the writings of the Fathers are so many and extended that we can only give a few. Clement of Rome, a contemporary of the apostles, says: "Let us look stedfastly at the blood of Christ, and see how precious His blood is in the sight of God, which, being shed for our salvation, has obtained the grace of repentance for all the world" (p. 288). Justin Martyr, who lived about the middle of the second century, says, "But lest anyone should imagine that I am asserting things that happen according to the necessity of fate, because I have said that things are foreknown, I proceed to refute that opinion also. That punishments and chastisements and good rewards are given according to the worth of the actions of every one, having learnt it from the prophets, we declare to be true; since if it were not so, but all things happen according to fate, nothing would be in our own power; for if it were decreed by fate that one should be good and another bad, no praise would be due to the former, nor blame to the other; and, again, if mankind had not the power of free-will to avoid what is disgraceful and to choose what is good, they would not be responsible for their actions" (Tom., p. 292). Irenaeus, who lived near the end of the second century, says, "The expression 'How often would I have gathered thy children together, and ye would not' (Matt. xxiii. 37), manifested the ancient law of human liberty, because God made man free from the beginning, having his own power as he had also his own soul to use the sentence of God voluntarily, and not by compulsion from God. For there is no force with God, but a good intention is always with Him. And therefore He gives good counsel to all. But He has placed the power of choice in man, in that those who should obey might justly possess good, given indeed by God, but preserved by ourselves" (Tom., p. 304). Tertullian (A.D. 200), "Therefore, though we have learned from the commands of God both what He wills and what He forbids, yet we have a will and power to choose either, as it is written, 'Behold I have set before you good and evil, for you have tasted of the tree of knowledge'" (Tom., p. 320). Origen (A.D. 230) says, "We have frequently shown, in all our disputations, that the nature of rational souls is such as to be capable of good and evil" (Tom., p. 323). Ambrose (A.D. 374) says, "The Lord Jesus came to save all sinners" (Tom., p. 377). Chrysostom (A.D. 398) says, "Hear also how fate speaks, and how it lays down contrary laws, and learn how the former are declared by a Divine spirit, but the latter by a wicked demon and a savage beast. God has said, 'If ye be willing and obedient,' making us masters of virtue and wickedness, and placing them within our own power. But what does the other say? That it is impossible to avoid what is decreed by fate, whether we will or not. God says, 'If ye be willing ye shall eat the good of the land;' but fate says, 'Although we be willing, unless it shall be permitted us, this will is of no use.' God says, 'If ye will not obey my words, a sword shall devour you;' fate says, 'Although we be not willing, if it shall be granted to us, we are certainly saved.' Does not fate say this? What, then, can be clearer than this opposition? What can be more evident than this war which the diabolical teachers of wickedness have thus shamelessly declared against the Divine oracles" (Tom., p. 458). Besides the names thus given, Tomlin appeals to and gives quotations from the following authors of antiquity as confirming his statement --viz., Tatian, Clement of Alexandria, Cyprian, Lactantius, Eusebius, Athenasius, Cyril, Hilary, Basil, Ambrose, Jerome, &c. The testimony of the Fathers is clearly against the Calvinistic system. We do not, of course, claim them as settling the controversy; this must be done by an appeal to reason and the Scriptures; but it is nevertheless deserving of attention, that for some 400 years the stream of opinion in the Church ran in a contrary direction to that of Geneva. The system of Calvin is, that God wishes only some men to be saved, and that everything is fixed; and it was clearly held before Augustine's time, that God wished all men saved, and that men were free, which they could not be if all things were foreordained. Besides this, it is a remarkable fact that the errors of the early heretics bore a close resemblance to those held by the followers of Calvin. Irenaeus, writing of Saturnius, says, "He first asserted that there are two sets of men formed by the angels, the one good and the other bad. And because demons assisted the worst men, that the Saviour came to destroy bad men and demons, but to save good men" (Tom., p. 515). Gregory of Nazianzum, warning his readers against heresy, says, "For certain persons are so ill-disposed as to imagine that some are of a nature which must absolutely perish," &c. (Tom., p. 522). Jerome, commenting on Eph. v. 8, remarks,. . . "There is not, as some heretics say, a nation which perishes and does not admit of salvation" (Tom., p. 525). Do not the heretical opinions denounced by the Fathers bear a close resemblance to the "elect" and the "reprobate" of the Confession of Faith? The departure from the ancient creed of the Church arose out of the controversy with Pelagius. This monk, surnamed Brito (from being generally believed to be a native of Britain), is supposed to have been born about the middle of the fourth century. Nothing is now known regarding the place of his birth, or precise period when he was born. His name "is supposed to be a Greek rendering of (Pelagios, of or belonging to the sea) the Celtic appellative Morgan, or sea-born." He never entered holy orders. If tradition is to be trusted, he was educated in a monastery at Bangor, in Wales, of which he ultimately became abbot. In the end of the fourth century he went to Rome, having acquired a reputation of sanctity and knowledge of the Scriptures. Whilst here he made the acquaintance of Coelestius, a Roman advocate, who espoused his views, and gave up his own profession, and devoted himself to extend the opinions of his master. About A.D. 405, they began to make themselves known, but attracted little attention; and after the sack of the city by the Goths, A.D. 410, they left and went to Africa. The two friends seem to have separated here. Pelagius went to Jerusalem, whilst Coelestius remained in Africa. The latter desired to enter into holy orders, and sought ordination. His opinions had become known, however, and objections were lodged against him. He appealed to Rome, but did not prosecute his case. He went to Ephesus instead. The proceedings at Carthage in this matter are noteworthy, as they were the occasion of introducing Augustine into the controversy. He was determined not to let the subject rest, and sent Orosius, a Spanish monk, to Jerusalem, and got the question brought before a synod there in A.D. 415. This assembly, however, refused to condemn Pelagius. In A.D. 418, the emperor banished the heresiarch; and after this history fails to give any reliable account of him. He had spoken what he thought, and had stirred the minds of men in three continents. When the Council of Carthage met, there were twelve charges of heresy laid against him. A summary of his opinions is given by Buck, and is as follows:--(1.) That Adam was by nature mortal, and whether he had sinned or not, would certainly have died. (2.) That the consequences of Adam's sin were confined to his own person. (3.) That new-born infants are in the same situation with Adam before the fall. (4.) That the law qualified men for the kingdom of heaven, and was founded on equal promises with the Gospel. (5.) That the general resurrection of the dead does not follow in virtue of the Saviour's resurrection. (6.) That the grace of God is given according to our merits. (7.) That this grace is not given for the performance of every moral act, the liberty of the will and information in points of duty being sufficient. If these were the opinions of Pelagius, then, according to our finding, he had erred from the truth. I say "if," because it is not safe to trust an opponent when professing to give the views of an antagonist. He is apt to confound deductions with principles which are denied. Although we do not know where and when Pelagius was born, nor the place and time of his death, we have reliable information on these points regarding Augustine. He was born at Tagaste, a town in north Africa, on 13th Nov., A.D. 354. He was the child of many prayers by his devoted mother Monica. The early portion of his life was spent in idleness and dissipation, but he was at last converted in a somewhat remarkable manner. He turned over a new leaf in his moral life, and became a most devoted Christian. Although considered inferior to Jerome (his contemporary) as regards Biblical criticism, he was a man of genius, and a strong controversialist. He contended against the Donatists, the Manichaeans, and the Pelagians. When the Vandals were besieging Hippo, he died on the 28th of August, A.D. 430, in the 76th year of his age. No father of the early Church has exercised a greater influence upon theological opinion than he has done. The system now known as Calvinism should be designated "Augustinianism," Augustine being, as remarked, the real author of the system, and not the Genevan divine. Regarding the central tenets of his creed, it is said: "He held the corruption of human nature, and the consequent slavery of the human will. Both on metaphysical and religious grounds he asserted the doctrine of predestination, from which he necessarily deduced the corollary doctrines of election and reprobation; and, finally, he supported against Pelagius, not only these opinions, but also the doctrine of the perseverance of the saints," (_Ch. En._, Aug.) Besides introducing a new theological system, Augustine put his imprimatur upon the burning of heretics. When the magistrate Dulcitius had some compunctions about executing a decree of Honorius, Augustine wrote to him and said, "It is much better that some should perish by their own fires, than that the whole body should perish in the everlasting fires of Gehenna, through the desert of the impious dissension" (_Ch. En._, Aug.) Calvin therefore could not only claim the authority of Augustine for his dogmas, but he might have claimed him also as justifying the burning of Servetus. But this by the way. With the voice of the Fathers against him, and, as we think, unwarranted by the light of philosophy and the true interpretation of Scripture, how came it about, it may be asked, that Augustine adopted the system which should be called by his name? The true answer to this will be found, we apprehend, in a variety of considerations. His early dissipated life, his nine years connection with Manichaeism, the extreme statements of Pelagius, his own strange conversion by hearing, when weeping and moaning under a fig -tree, a young voice saying quickly, "_Tolle lege, tolle lege_" (take and read, take and read), and which he took as a Divine admonition; these, combined with the commotion of the times, would lend their influence to the position he came to occupy. His system, whilst it accords glory to God, is one-sided, by ignoring the function man has to perform in applying the remedial scheme. Although Pelagius had got many to espouse his opinions, yet his tenets were again and again condemned by the councils of the Church. The controversy, however, very soon diverged from strictly Pelagian lines, and entered upon a new track--viz., that of Semi-pelagianism, to which is closely allied the principles advocated by the Evangelical Union of Scotland. From extremes there is generally a recoil, and this was the case as regards Augustinianism. Certain monks at Adrumetum drew conclusions from the system which, whether they are admitted or not, are its logical outcome. They said, "Of what use are all doctrines and precepts? Human efforts can avail nothing, it is God that worketh in us to will and to do. Nor is it right to reproach or to punish those who are in error, and who cannot sin, for it is none of their fault that they act thus. Without grace they cannot do otherwise, nor can they do anything to merit grace; all we should do, then, is to pray for them" (Neander, Vol. IV., p. 373). Augustine endeavoured to neutralise these opinions by writing two books explaining his views. Regarding these answers, Neander observes, "But such persons," as the monks, "must rather have found in this a further confirmation of their doubts." Whilst the monks of Adrumetum drew natural conclusions from the dogmas of Augustine, there came determined opposition to the new creed. It came from the south of France. John Cassian, who had been a deacon under Chrysostom, had established a cloister at Massila (Marseilles), and had become its abbot, entered the lists against the Bishop of Hippo. He departed from the opinions of Pelagius regarding the corruption of human nature, and he recognised "grace" as well as justification in the sense of Augustine. But he widely differed from him, as will be seen from the summary of Semi -pelagianism given by Buck. It is as follows: "(1.) That God did not dispense His grace to one man more than another in consequence of an absolute and eternal decree, but was willing to save all men if they complied with the terms of the Gospel. (2.) That Christ died for all mankind. (3.) That the grace purchased by Christ, and necessary to salvation, was offered to all men. (4.) That man before he received this grace was capable of faith and holy desires. (5.) That man was born free, and consequently capable of resisting the influence of grace, or of complying with its suggestions." Buck remarks, "The Semi-pelagians were very numerous, and the doctrine of Cassian, though variously explained, was received in the greatest part of the monastic schools in Gaul, from whence it spread itself far and wide through the European provinces. As to the Greeks and other Eastern Churches, they had embraced the Semi-pelagian doctrine before Cassian." Yet when, as in 1843, similar opinions were proclaimed in Scotland, they were everywhere met with the cry of "New Views," although they had been held so extensively 1400 years before! So much for ignorance. The name "Semi-pelagians" was not assumed by the party, lest they should be held as maintaining the dogmas of Pelagius; neither was it given until long after the early heat of the controversy. Their opponents still stigmatised them as Pelagians, although they had departed from the system advocated by the British monk. The controversy continued to occupy the mind of the Church during the latter part of the fifth and beginning of the sixth centuries. In A.D. 475 a synod held at Arles sanctioned the views of the Semi -pelagians, and compelled the presbyter Lucidus, who was an earnest advocate of Augustinianism, to recant. Another synod, held at Lugdunum in the same year, put also its imprimatur upon them. But there was not complete agreement, and the divines who had been banished by the Vandals from northern Africa held a council in A.D. 523, and under their auspices Fulgentius of Ruspe composed a defence of Angustine's views; (Kurtz, p. 213) For a considerable time after this the controversy may be said to have remained quiet, but broke forth with great fury in the ninth century. Gottschalk, the son of a Saxon count, had been dedicated by his parents to the service of religion, and in due course entered the monastery of Fulda. He did not take to cloister life, and petitioned an assembly held at Metz to be released from his monastic vows. His request was granted, but Rabanus Maurus, who was the abbot, appealed to Lewis the Pius, and endeavoured to show that all _oblati_ (lay brethren dedicated to the service of the Church) were bound to perpetual obligation. Lewis revoked the decision of the assembly, and Gottschalk had to go back to cloister life, which he did by entering the monastery of Orbais. Here he became an ardent student of the writings of Augustine, and sought to propagate his views. "He affirmed a _proedestinatio duplex_, by virtue of which God decreed eternal life to the elect, and the elect to eternal life; and so also everlasting punishment to the reprobate, and the reprobate to everlasting punishment, for the two were inseparably connected" (Neander, Vol. VI., p. 180). On returning from a pilgrimage to Rome Gottschalk happened to meet Noting (Bishop of Verona), and expounded to him his views. Sometime after this meeting the bishop had a conversation with Rabanus (who was now Bishop of Mayence), and informed him regarding Gottschalk's opinions. Rabanus promised to send a reply, which shortly afterwards he did, in two "thundering epistles." The controversy now waxed warm, too much so for the monk. He was condemned, imprisoned, and scourged. He threw his treatises into the fire, but intimated his willingness to go through the ordeal of stepping into cauldrons of boiling water, oil, and pitch, being thoroughly convinced that he had the truth upon his side. His offer was treated by Hincoma as the boast of a Simon Magus. He died in prison. In the Middle Ages the schoolmen took sides in this controversy, but there was no general agitation upon the subject. The "Dark Ages" had set in, and remained until the Renaissance and the revival of learning in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries. The European countries had been greatly agitated by the Crusades, which had collateral issues of an important character. Turbulent spirits had been weeded but, and the royal authority had become better established. Independence of thought began to assert itself in Wickliffe; and Huss and Jerome of Prague paid the penalty of martyrdom for gainsaying Rome. But a bright morning was at hand. Luther arose. His voice, like a clarion trumpet among the Alps, produced echoes all around. His doctrines spread like wild-fire. Amongst the countries which readily received them was Holland. Charles V. was determined to crush the nascent spirit of liberty in that portion of his dominions, and inaugurated a persecution by which 50,000 people lost their lives. The Dutch maintained their rights, and in due course the Protestant religion was that of the land. The opinions of Calvin were adopted generally. He had adopted the system of Augustine, as already intimated, and he had a great influence upon the Protestants generally outside Germany. James Arminius was born at Oudewater in 1560. He lost his father when quite young, and the merchants of Amsterdam undertook his education upon condition that he would not preach out of their city unless he got their permission. Having gone to Geneva, he sat at the feet of Theodore Beza, one of the most rigid of Calvin's followers. After travelling in Italy he returned to Holland, and was duly appointed a minister of religion in Amsterdam. About this time certain clergymen of Delft had become dissatisfied with the doctrine of predestination, and Arminius was commissioned to answer them. But in prosecuting his inquiries he began to doubt, and then to change his views. He saw that he could not defend the system of Calvin, and having the courage of his convictions, he spoke out his mind. He excited intense opposition, and was visited, without stint, with the _odium theologicum_. All the pulpits began to fulminate against him. In the midst of the controversy he died, 19th October, 1609. He was admitted by his opponents to have been a good man. In 1610 his followers presented a Remonstrance to the assembled States of the province of Holland. From this circumstance they have been called Remonstrants. In this celebrated document the following propositions were stated:--"(1.) That God had indeed made an eternal decree, but only on the conditional terms that all who believe in Christ shall be saved, while all who refuse to believe must perish; so that predestination is only conditional. (2.) That Christ died for all men, but that none except believers are really saved by His death. The intention, in other words, is universal, but the efficacy may be restricted by unbelief. (3.) That no man is of himself able to exercise a saving faith, but must be born again of God in Christ through the Holy Spirit. (4.) That without the grace of God man can neither think, will, nor do anything good; yet that grace does not act in men in an irresistible way. (5.) That believers are able, by the aid of the Holy Spirit, victoriously to resist sin; but that the question of the possibility of a fall from grace must be determined by a further examination of the Scriptures on this point." The last proposition was decided in the affirmative in the following year (1611). A synod was convened at Dort in 1618, from which the followers of Arminius were excluded. It put its approval upon the views of Calvin. The discussion soon assumed a political aspect, which Maurice of Orange turned to his own account, put Oldenbarnveldt to death, and sent Grotius to prison. In the Church of England divines may hold either view of this question. The saying has been ascribed to Pitt: "The Church of England hath a Popish liturgy, a Calvinistic creed, and an Arminian clergy" (Bartlett). Whilst she has had such genuine Calvinists as Scott and Toplady, she has also produced men who held that the Saviour died for all--viz., Hales, Butler, Pierce, Barrow, Cudworth, Tillotson, Stillingfleet, Patrick, and Burnet. The Wesleyan body are decidedly anti-Calvinistic. In 1643 an assembly of divines met at Westminster, and although they could not agree about church government, they came to a finding about doctrines, and drew up the Confession of Faith and the Catechism, which are thoroughly Calvinistic. The Church of Scotland adopted these formularies, and although there have been several secessions from her, they were not upon the ground of doctrine as expressed in the creed. In 1843, however, a decided departure took place in this respect, in one of the offshoots of the Church--viz., in that of the United Secession Church. The Rev. James Morison had declared it to be his belief that Christ died for all men. He was charged with heresy and deposed. Other brethren threw in their lot with him, and in due course the Evangelical Union was formed. Its primary doctrines are that the Divine Father loves all men, that Christ died for all men, and that the Divine Spirit gives sufficient grace to all men, which, if improved, would lead to their salvation. Such, then, is a brief outline of the main historical facts in this controversy, and it is worthy of note, as remarked, that for the first 400 years of the Christian era the Calvinistic system of theology was unknown to the Christian church. It began, as we have seen, with Augustine, and being adopted by Calvin was widely spread in those countries which received at the Reformation Protestant principles. It comprehends truths of vast value to man, but which are not peculiar to it. They are held as firmly by opponents as by the followers of Calvin; such, for instance, as the inspiration of the Bible, the doctrine of the Trinity, the inability of man to work out a glory meriting righteousness, justification by faith alone, and the necessity of the Spirit's work in regeneration. As in the Church of Rome, there have also been ranged under the banner of the Genevan divine men of the most varied accomplishments and the most saintly character. But men are often better than their professed creed, and often worse. As a system it has passed its meridian, and although ministers and elders are still required to profess their faith in its peculiarities, it has lost its hold on the popular mind. Mr. Froude, in his celebrated address to the St. Andrew's students, said, "After being accepted for two centuries in all Protestant countries as the final account of the relations between man and his Maker, Calvinism has come to be regarded by liberal thinkers as a system of belief incredible in itself, dishonouring to its object, and as intolerable as it has been itself intolerant. To represent man as sent into the world under a curse, as incurably wicked--wicked by the constitution of his flesh, and wicked by eternal decree; as doomed (unless exempted by special grace, which he cannot merit, or by an effort of his own obtain), to live in sin while he remains on earth, and to be eternally miserable when he leaves it; to represent him as born unable to keep the commandments, yet as justly liable to everlasting punishment for breaking them, is alike repugnant to reason and to conscience, and turns existence into a hideous nightmare. To deny the freedom of the will is to make morality impossible: to tell men that they cannot help themselves, is to fling them into recklessness and despair. To what purpose the effort to be virtuous, when it is an effort which is foredoomed to fail; when those that are saved are saved by no effort of their own and confess themselves the worst of sinners, even when rescued from the penalties of sin; and those that are lost are lost by an everlasting sentence decreed against them before they were born? How are we to call the Ruler who laid us under this iron code by the name of wise, and just, or merciful, when we ascribe principles of action to Him which, as a human father, we should call preposterous and monstrous?" Error, however, like disease, is not easily eradicated; but as men get better acquainted with God, those dark and heathenish conceptions regarding him entertained by Calvinists, such as the foredooming of children and men to endless misery, will give place to nobler thoughts of the Author of our being. "I doubt not through the ages one increasing purpose runs, And the thoughts of men are widened with the process of the suns." In 1879 the United Presbyterian Church adopted what is known as the "Declaratory Act," which is a clear departure from the rigid Calvinism of the Confession of Faith. In this declaration God's love is said to be world-wide, and the propitiation of Christ to be for the "sins of the whole world." They hold the Confession dogmas in harmony with the Declaratory Act, but it is an attempt to put the new cloth on the old garment, or the new wine into the old bottles. It is impossible that God can love the whole world, and yet foredoom millions to be lost. The two views are destructive of each other. This church, one of the most intelligent in the country, cannot stand where it now is. It is bound to go forward. PART I.--PREDESTINATION. CHAPTER I. THE WORD PREDESTINATION, AND THE DOCTRINE AS HELD BY CALVINISTS. THE word "predestinate" signifies, according to the _Imperial Dictionary_, "to predetermine or foreordain," "to appoint or ordain beforehand by an unchangeable purpose." The noun, according to the same authority, denotes the act of decreeing or foreordaining events; the act of God, by which He hath from eternity unchangeably appointed or determined whatsoever comes to pass. It is used particularly in theology to denote the preordination of men to everlasting happiness or misery. The term is used four times in the New Testament, and comes from the Greek word _proorizo_, which signifies, "to determine beforehand," "to predetermine" (Liddell and Scott). Robinson gives as its meaning, "to set bounds before," "to predetermine," "spoken of the eternal decrees and counsels of God." According to the lexicographers, the meaning--as far as the word is concerned--is plain enough. It is quite clear from the Scriptures that God predestinates or foreordains. This is admitted on all sides. But here the questions arise--What is the nature of God's predestination? and does it embrace all events? The Confession of Faith gives the following deliverance on the subject--"God from all eternity did, by the most wise and holy counsel of His own will, freely and unchangeably foreordain whatsoever comes to pass." The Larger and Shorter Catechisms express the same idea. This was the opinion of the Westminster divines, and is the professed faith of Presbyterians in general in Scotland. One of the most eminent theologians of the school of Calvin--Dr. C. Hodge--vindicates this deliverance of the Assembly. He says, "The reason; therefore, why any event occurs, or that passes from the category of the possible into that of the actual, is that God has so decreed" (Vol. I., p. 531). He says again, "The Scriptures teach that sinful acts, as well as those which are holy, are foreordained" (Vol. I., p. 543). And, again, "The acts of the wicked in persecuting the early Church were ordained of God, as the means of the wider and more speedy proclamation of the Gospel" (Vol. I., p. 544). He says, moreover, "Whatever happens God intended should happen, that to Him nothing can be unexpected, and nothing contrary to His purposes" (Vol. II., p 335). The same writer, in speaking of the usage of the term "predestination," remarks, "It may be used first in the general sense of foreordination. In this sense it has equal reference to all events, for God foreordains whatsoever comes to pass:" It will thus be seen that the Confession, and the Catechisms, and Hodge, as one of the most eminent expounders of these formularies, uphold the doctrine, that everything which happens was foreordained by God to happen. The doctrine as thus stated is clearly the foundation of the whole system of Calvinism. If this is shaken, the entire structure topples to its base. Being so important, its advocates have sought to strengthen it by appealing to the Divine attributes and to passages from holy writ. Let us then examine their arguments derived from the attributes, and the texts they have adduced. CHAPTER II. CALVINISTIC PREDESTINATION IN REFERENCE TO DIVINE WISDOM. THE wisdom of God is held as proving universal foreordination. Being infinitely wise--such is the argument--He will act upon a plan, as in creation, and as wise people do in regard to affairs in general. And this is perfectly correct. The question, however, is not whether God has a plan, but what that plan comprehends? Sin being a factor in the programme of life, the Divine wisdom or plan will be exercised in reference to it. There are two ways in which this may be done. It may be foreordained as part of the plan, as is seen in the above extracts. But another way is this: The Divine wisdom may be exercised in regard to sin, not as ordaining it, but as overruling it, and in turning it to account. That the evil deeds of men bring into view features of the Divine character which would not otherwise have been seen, is no doubt true, but this does not save the wrong-doers from the severest blame. But what is wisdom? It is the choosing of the best means to effect a good end. The ultimate end of creation is the glory of God, as He is the highest and the best of beings. There can be nothing higher than himself He desires the _confidence_ and the _love_ of men. "Love is the root of creation, God's essence. Worlds without number Lie in His bosom like children; He made them for this purpose only,-- Only to love and be loved again."--TEGNER. Men are asked to give Him their trust and love. It is right that they should do so, for He is infinitely worthy of them. But what are sinful actions? Essentially they are foolish, and issue in misery. And if God foreordained them, how can we esteem Him as wise and good? And if not to our intelligence wise and good, how can we give Him our confidence and love? Trust and love are based upon the perception of the true and the good. If I find a man who is destitute of these qualities of character, to love him with approval is, as I am constituted, an impossibility. But to ordain the "acts of the wicked," as Hodge says that God did, in order to spread Christianity, was neither just nor good. It was doing evil that good might come. Instead of being wise it was, if it were so, an exhibition of unwisdom as regards the very end of creation, as it was fitted to drive men away from, instead of bringing them to, God. And yet wisdom, Divine wisdom, was exercised in reference to those very persecutions. It was true, as Tertullian said, that the "blood of the martyrs was the seed of the Church." By means of the sufferings of the early Christians men's minds were directed to that religion which supported its adherents in the midst of their accumulated sorrows. Their patience, their heroic bravery in facing grim death, threw a halo of moral glory around the martyrs which touched the hearts of true men who lived in the midst of general degeneration. The Christians were driven from their homes, but they carried the truth with them. "The seeds of truth are bearded, and adhere we know not when, we know not where." In the world of nature there are seeds with hooks, and others have wings to be wafted by the breeze to their proper habitat. And if Divine wisdom watches over the seeds of the vegetable kingdom, does it not stand to reason that it will do so in regard to truth? God overrules the evil, and makes it the occasion of good. Joseph was immured in jail, but from it he ascended to a seat next the throne. Christ was crucified, but from the blessed cross came streams of blessing. Paul was incarcerated, but from his prison came "thoughts that breathe and words that burn," that have kept alive the flame of piety for more than a thousand years. The people of God still suffer, but, like the asbestos cloth when thrown into the fire, they, by these sufferings, become purified and made meet for the coming glory. In thus overruling evil, God, we say, shows the highest wisdom and love fitted to secure our trust and affection; but to ordain evil would be an illustration of supreme folly, fitted to lower him in the estimation of angels and of men. CHAPTER III. THE DOCTRINE OF PREDESTINATION CONSIDERED WITH REFERENCE TO ALMIGHTY POWER. THE POWER OF GOD is held as supporting universal foreordination. As in the case of wisdom, God's power must be recognised as infinite. It is true, indeed, that creation does not prove this, since it is limited, and no conclusion can be more extensive than the premises. But looking at the nature and multitude of His works, we cannot resist the conviction that there is nothing (which does not imply a contradiction) that is "too hard for the Lord." He is infinite in power. But the power of God is guided by His wisdom and His love, just as is the power of a good and a wise king. In governing His creation, it stands to reason that He will govern each creature according to its nature--brute matter by physical law, animals by instinct, and man in harmony with his rational constitution. God does not reason with a stone, or plead with a brute; but He does so with man. "Come, now, and let us reason together, saith the Lord" (Isa. i. 18). It would be absurd to punish a block of granite because it was not marble, or to condemn the horse because he could not understand a problem in Euclid. To do so would be to treat the creatures by a law not germane to their nature. It is, indeed, a radical vice in Calvinistic reasoning that, because God is omnipotent, He can as easily therefore create virtue in a free being as He can waft the down of the thistle on the breeze. It is quite true that "whatsoever the Lord pleased that did He in heaven and in earth" (Ps. cxxxv. 6). But the question is--What is His pleasure in regard to the production of virtue? Is it a forced or free thing? Every good man will cheerfully ascribe to God the praise of his (the good, man's) virtue. God gave him his constitution; God's Spirit brought to bear on him the motives of a holy life. Had there been no Spirit, there would have been no holy life. Yet there is a sense in which the personal righteousness of the good man is his own righteousness. It consists in right acts, in right acts as regards God and as regards man. God told him what to do, and when he did it the acts became his acts, and were not the acts of God, nor of any other. When he does the thing that was right, he is commended--when he does not, he is blamed. Conversing one day with a Calvinistic clergyman, he intimated that a certain person had declared that the only thing stronger than God in the world was the human will. We remarked that we did not approve of such a mode of expression. And rightly so. It implies a confusion of ideas, confounding physical power which is almighty, and moral power, which is suasory and resistible. Stephen charged the Jews with resisting the Spirit. "Ye stiff-necked and uncircumcised in heart and ears, ye do always resist the Holy Ghost: as your fathers did, so do ye" (Acts vii. 51). Because they resisted him, would it be right to say that they were physically stronger than God? We replied to the clergyman that we supposed that the person who used the expression meant that God did not get people to do what He wished. The reply was that we were equally wrong. We then asked, "Do you think that God wishes people to keep His law?" He refused to answer the question. But why would he not? Aye, why? He was in this dilemma: If he said that He did wish them to keep His law, he would have been met by the question, Why then does He not make them do so? Everywhere the law is broken. If he said that God did not wish them to keep His law, would not this have been to put the Holy One on a level with the great enemy of man? This brings out the idea that whilst God is possessed of infinite power, in the exercise of that power He has respect to the constitution of man in the production of virtue. He does not override the constitution, and treat it as if it were a nullity. To do so would be absurd, for forced virtue is not virtue at all. God is all-powerful, but He is also ALL-WISE. CHAPTER IV. PREDESTINATION CONSIDERED WITH REFERENCE TO DIVINE FOREKNOWLEDGE. THE FOREKNOWLEDGE of God is held as evidence that He has foreordained whatsoever comes to pass. He foreknows, so it is argued, but He does so because He has foreordained. Calvin says, "Since He (God) doth not otherwise foresee the things that shall come to pass than because He hath decreed that they should so come to pass, it is vain to move a controversy about foreknowledge, when it is certain that all things do happen rather by ordinance and commandment" (B. iii.) Toplady says "that God foreknows futurities, because by His predestination He hath rendered their futurition certain and inevitable." Bonar says, "God foreknows everything that takes place, because he Has fixed it" (_Truth and Error_, p. 50). The same doctrine is held by the younger Hodge--that foreknowledge involves foreordination. There have been some who have denied the infinitude of God's knowledge, notably Dr. Adam Clarke. He held that God, although possessed of omnipotence, yet as He chooses not to do all things, so also although He possesses the power of knowing all things, yet He chooses to be ignorant of some things. In refuting this notion, Dr. Hodge remarks, "But this is to suppose that God wills not to be God, that the Infinite wills to be finite. Knowledge in God is not founded on His will, except so far as the knowledge of vision is concerned--_i.e._, His knowledge of His own purposes, or what He has decreed shall come to pass. If not founded on His will it cannot be limited by it. Infinite knowledge must know all things actual or possible" (Vol. I., p. 546). Although the motive underlying Clarke's argument is good, yet it is not wise to sacrifice the Divine intelligence to the Divine goodness. God is the infinitely perfect one, but to suppose that He is ignorant of what will happen tomorrow is to limit His perfections, and make Him a dependent being. But neither can we accept the Calvinistic doctrine, that God foreknows because He has foreordained. This, properly speaking, is not foreknowledge, but _after_ knowledge, since it comes after the decree. It is, moreover, simply assertion. It is not a self-evident proposition, and is neither backed by reason nor Scripture. The great difficulty, however, with our Calvinistic friends is regarding certainty. If God is certain that an event will happen, then, so it is argued, it must happen. If we deny that there is an absolute necessity for the event as an event happening, then it is replied that God in that case was not certain. But this is sophistical reasoning--slipshod philosophy. God was certain that the event would happen, but He was also certain that it need not have happened. The Divine knowledge is simply a state of the Divine intelligence, and never causes any thing. It comprehends all that is past, all that now is, and all that will ever be. But it comprises more than this, and herein lies the key of the mystery. It takes in the possible, or that which is never realised in the actual. Human knowledge does this--and how much more the Divine! God knows that the thief will steal; He is certain that he will do it, but He is also certain that he need not do it. His being certain that the theft will take place does not necessitate the theft. It (the certainty) exercises no controlling agency upon the wrong-doer. Dr. W. Cooke remarks, "What is involved in necessity? It is a resistless impulse exerted for a given end. What is freedom? It involves a self-determining power to will and to act. What is prescience? It is simply knowledge of an event before it happens. Such being, we conceive, a correct representation of the terms, we have to inquire, where lies the alleged incompatibility of prescience and freedom? Between freedom and necessity there is, we admit, an absolute and irreconcilable discrepancy and opposition; for the assertion of the one is a direct negation of the other. What is free cannot be necessitated, and what is necessitated cannot be free. But _prescience_ involves no such opposition. For simple knowledge is not coercive; it is not impulse; it is not influence of any kind: it is merely acquaintance with truth, or the mind's seeing a thing as it is. If I know the truth of a proposition of Euclid, it is not my knowledge that makes it true. It was a truth, and would have remained a truth, whether I knew it or not, yea, even, if I had never existed. So of any fact in history; so of any occurrence around me. My mere knowledge of the fact did not make it fact, or exercise any influence in causing it to be fact. So in reference to the Divine prescience; it is mere knowledge, and is as distinct from force, constraint, or influence as any two things can be distinct one from the other. It is force which constitutes necessity, and the total absence of force which constitutes liberty; and as all force is absent from mere knowledge, it is evident that neither foreknowledge nor afterknowledge involves any necessity, or interferes in the least degree with human freedom. Man could not be more free than he is, if God were totally ignorant of all his volitions and actions" (_Deity_, p. 293). Calvinists sometimes entrench themselves behind God's foreknowledge as behind a rampart of granite, but it gives in reality no support to their system. That God knows the possible, and the contingent, was illustrated in the case of David at Keilah. He had taken up his temporary residence in this town. Saul was out on the war path, and David wished to know if he would visit Keilah, and if so, whether the men of Keilah would deliver him up. The answer was that Saul would come, and the people would deliver him up. Receiving this answer from God, he left. This shows that God's knowledge does not necessitate an event (see 1 Sam. xxiii.) He knows what might be, but which never will be. He saw how men would act in regard to David, but His knowledge did not make them do it. And He knows how men will act regarding the rejection of salvation, but this does not necessitate them to ruin their souls. He is certain that they might have been saved. There was a perfect remedy for their need; they had power to take it, and refused. The lost might have been saved; or, in other words, every man in hell might have been in heaven. The late Lord Kinloch in his _Circle of Christian Doctrine_, has several judicious remarks on this subject. In his chapter on predestination he says:--"The choice of free agents cannot have been predestinated in any proper sense of the word, that is, cannot have been fixed beforehand so as to fall out in one way, and no other, irrespectively of his own will. To say that it has been so, involves a contradiction in terms, for it is to say that a man chooses and does not choose at one and the same moment. The choice may be foreseen, must indeed in every case be foreseen by God, otherwise the government of the universe could not be conducted. But to foresee and foreordain are essentially different things" (p. 121). He says again, "What God appoints; He, to whom the whole of futurity lies open at a glance, necessarily appoints beforehand. Hence arises the axiomatic distinction which I find the key to the subject. All that God is himself to do He not merely foresees but foreordains. All that He does not do himself, but leaves man to do by the very act of creating him a free agent, the choice, namely, between one course and another, is foreseen but not predestined" (p. 124). The ideas of Lord Kinloch are sound, and we deem them irrefutable. CHAPTER V. PROOF TEXTS FOR CALVINISTIC PREDESTINATION EXAMINED. THE Scriptures are supposed to teach the doctrine that God hath foreordained whatsoever comes to pass. It were impossible within the compass of this short treatise to consider at large all the passages that have been imported into this controversy. We shall, however, consider a few which seem to favour the dogma. THE SONS OF ELI.--In 1 Sam. ii. 25, it is written regarding the sons of Eli, "Notwithstanding they hearkened not to the voice of their father, _because_ the Lord would slay them." The whole stress of the argument from this passage lies in the word "_because_." They were not able to hearken to their father, because God had determined to slay them. There are two objections to this view, the first critical and the second moral. The Hebrew particle translated because is --_ki_. It is again and again translated by the word "that," and there is no reason in the world why it should not have been so translated in this passage. By substituting "that" for "because," there is no support to predestination. It simply denotes, in such case, that they would not believe their father, which doubtless was the case from their depraved habits. The _moral_ objection is that God had made their return to good impossible, whilst He declares that He is not willing that any should perish. On these grounds we reject the interpretation. MICAIAH AND AHAB.--The parabolic representation of Micaiah is held as proving not the bare permission of an event, but the actual deception of Ahab. The matter is recorded in 1 Kings xxii. Jehoshaphat had paid a visit to his neighbour, the King of Israel, Ahab. The latter proposed that the former should accompany him in an attack upon Ramoth-gilead. Ahab's prophets had promised success to the enterprise. Jehoshaphat wished to inquire of the prophet of the Lord. Ahab told them that there was one, Micaiah by name, but that he hated him as he always prophesied evil of him. He was sent for, however, and when he came he was asked if they should go up against Ramoth-gilead. He answered, "Go and prosper; for the Lord shall deliver it into the hand of the king." This was evidently spoken in such a tone and manner, that Ahab said, "How many times shall I adjure thee that thou tell me nothing but that which is true in the name of the Lord?" The prophet then uttered a few words about the dispersion of the army, which were very unpalatable to the king. He then said, "I saw the Lord sitting on His throne, and all the host of heaven standing by Him on His right hand and on His left." A question was asked who would persuade Ahab to go up, and at last one answered that he would go and be a lying spirit in the mouth of the prophets, and that he would persuade him. The narrative proceeds, and it is added, "And He (the Lord) said, Thou shalt persuade him, and prevail also: go forth, and do so. Now therefore, behold, the Lord hath put a lying spirit in the mouth of all these thy prophets" (1 Kings xxii.) It is held that this narrative proves that God intended to deceive Ahab. I could understand an infidel trying to make capital out of such a passage; but for a professed Christian to go to it to prove that God intended to deceive Ahab, appears at first sight to transcend belief. To do so is to sap the foundations of religion. How much reason has the Bible to say, "Save me from my friends!" No doubt, the interpretation of the passage given lies on the same lines with the general system of the true Calvinists, and is quite of a piece with their declaration that God foreordained the Jews to crucify Christ. But, let us look at the passage. If God had intended to deceive Ahab, as saith Calvin, the course taken was the very opposite of what was fitted to secure the end. Micaiah was His recognised prophet; He spoke through him, and warned Ahab against going up. The result, if he did, was predicted; was this deception? The method adopted by the prophet was highly dramatic, and fitted to impress both the kings with the folly of the enterprise. It was a LYING spirit that was to inspire the emissaries of Baal, and advise the attack. And if God's prophet intimated disaster--which actually occurred--where was there deception? When it is said that God told the lying spirit to go and deceive Ahab, this is the mere drapery of the parable, and must be held as denoting sufferance, and not authoritative command. When the literal meaning of a passage leads to absurdity, we are required, to seek for its spirit or other explanation. Christ said, "Give to him that asketh of thee; and from him that would borrow of thee, turn not thou away." To carry this out literally would be impossible; but the _spirit_ of the passage is beautiful, teaching, as it does, the heavenly charity characteristic of the good man. Christ demanded of those who would become His disciples, that they should hate their brethren; but no honest interpreter would take this literally. The passage evidently means that we owe a higher allegiance and love to Christ than any earthly relationship. The parable of Micaiah, taken literally, makes God to take part in the work of Satan, whilst He also works against himself, in inspiring His own prophet. Such a method must be rejected. The great truth brought out in the parable is this--viz., that a man rejecting heavenly counsel becomes a prey to evil spirits, which drive him to ruin. LIMITATION OF DAYS.--Job xiv. 5 is appealed to. The words are, "Seeing his days are determined, the number of his months are with thee, thou hast appointed his bounds that he cannot pass." We do not see any bearing the passage has upon the subject under discussion --universal predestination, It brings before us the Divine Sovereignty, by virtue of which God has determined the laws of the constitution of man, and that there is a period in his life beyond which he cannot go. But he may shorten this period, for "bloody and deceitful men do not live half their days," and many people commit suicide, and break one of God's commands. Does God determine the number of suicides? Yes, if Calvinism is true; for, according to it, He hath "foreordained whatsoever comes to pass." RESTRAINT ON WRATH.--Psalm lxxvi. 10 is appealed to. The words are, "Surely the wrath of man shall praise thee: the remainder of wrath shalt thou restrain." Dying men catch at straws, and, to appeal to this passage is as if one were catching at a straw. It brings before us the great truth that God overrules evil, and brings good out of it. The methods by which God does this are not stated, but would be suited to the peculiar circumstances of each case. We see illustrations of the principle in the destruction of the Egyptians, the deliverance of the three Hebrews from the furnace, and the general history of the Church. But to bring good out of evil and cut down persecutors, are very different things from "foreordaining whatsoever comes to pass." THE STANDING OF THE COUNSEL.--Isaiah xlvi. 10 is appealed to. It is as follows:--"My counsel shall stand, and I shall do all my pleasure." Now there is no doubt that God's counsel shall stand, nor that He will do all His pleasure; but the questions are, what is His counsel, and what is His pleasure? To bring the passage forward on behalf of universal foreordination is to assume the point in debate, and it is therefore inadmissible. God has a definite purpose regarding individuals and nations. It is to make the best out of every man that He can in harmony with the freedom of the will; and it is the same regarding nations. The principle of His dealing is stated in these words,--"If ye be willing and obedient, ye shall eat the good of the land; but if ye refuse and rebel, ye shall be devoured by the sword" (Isa. i. 19). This is the Divine counsel and pleasure regarding man still. EVIL IN THE CITY.--Amos iii. 6 is appealed to. It is as follows: --"Shall the trumpet be blown in the city, and the people not be afraid? Shall there be evil in a city, and the Lord hath not done it?" The word rendered "_evil_" (_ra_) occurs more than 300 times in the Old Testament, and has various shades of signification. It is translated as meaning "sorrow" (Gen. xliv. 29), "wretchedness" (Neh. xi. 15), "distress" (Neh. ii. 17). It is applied to "beasts," "diseases," "adversity," "troubles." It stood as the opposite of "good," and sometimes meant "sin." To determine its meaning in any particular instance, we must consider the context. In the beginning of the third chapter of Amos, punishment is threatened against the people: "You only have I known of all the families of the earth; therefore will I punish you for all your iniquities." When trouble and distress come upon a people, they may be said to come from God as the result of their disobedience. He vexes them in His "sore displeasure." There are various species of evil--as metaphysical evil, or the evil of limitation; physical evil, or departure from type; moral evil, or sin; and penal evil, or the punishment of sin. Looking at the context, it is perfectly clear that the prophet has reference to the last-mentioned. The people had broken God's laws, and were punished by God for their misdeeds. It might take the form of pestilence or famine, but whatever was its shape, it was a messenger from God. He sent it because the people had done wrong. This interpretation is in harmony with the usage of the word, and satisfies the moral conscience. The passage in Isaiah xlv. 7, "I make peace and create evil," has obviously the same meaning, as it stands in contrast to "peace." "Peace" is representative of blessings; "evil" is the synonym of distress and sorrow. The prophet is supposed to allude to the Persian religion, according to which there were two great beings in the universe--viz., Oromasden, from whom comes good, and Ahriman, from whom comes evil. It is very doubtful whether the prophet had any such reference. Barnes says,--"The main object here is, the prosperity which should attend the arms of Cyrus, the consequent reverses and calamities of the nations whom he would subdue, and the proof thence furnished that JEHOVAH was the true God; and the passage should be limited in the interpretation to this design. The statement, then, is that all this was under His direction." PREDESTINATION AND THE CRUCIFIXION OF CHRIST.--Acts ii. 23 is appealed to. It reads thus: "Having been delivered by the determinate counsel and foreknowledge of God, ye have taken, and by wicked hands have crucified and slain." But how can these words prove universal foreordination? It might be said, that if God foreordained the bad deeds of the crucifiers, the principle is established. True; but did He foreordain them? The words simply declare that God had given up Christ, and that in so doing He had acted in harmony with a settled plan, and that the Jews had wickedly taken the Saviour and slain Him. From the throne of His excellency God saw the character of the people that lived in A.D. 33; that they stood upon religious punctilio, and "as having the form of godliness whilst destitute of its power," that they would do as the Scriptures foretold; and yet He determined to send His son into their very midst, and when He came, they took Him and crucified Him. In all that they did they acted freely. Had it not been so, had they been acting under an iron necessity, then the apostle could not have brought against them the charge of having done what they did with "wicked hands." That charge, that homethrust, explodes the Calvinistic argument, as far as the verse is concerned. Another passage is Acts iv. 27, 28. It reads thus: "For of a truth against thy holy child Jesus, whom thou hast anointed, both Herod and Pontius Pilate, with the Gentiles, and the people of Israel, were gathered together, for to do whatsoever thy hand and thy counsel had determined before to be done." But the question is simply this,--what was it that God had determined to be done? We cannot admit that God had fixed unalterably the doings of Herod, Pilate, and their unholy allies, for the simple reason given in explaining Acts ii. 23--viz., that if such were the case, then there is no foothold upon which to condemn those high-handed sinners. They were verily guilty, but we cannot find a shadow of fault with them if they were only doing what they were foreordained to do. What, then, had God determined to be done? He had determined to send His son into the world to make an atonement for sin. But this might have been done without the betrayal, the trial, and the crucifixion. I may determine to go to a distant city without determining the _mode_ of travel. One way may be pleasant, another disagreeable in the highest degree, and yet the latter may be chosen because of certain collateral issues. So Christ's death might have been determined on, but not the _mode_. Atonement might have been made in another way than on the cross. It was not the crucifixion that made the atonement, but its value lay in the death of the Son of God. Had He expired during the sore agony in the garden, would not His death have been meritorious? The adjuncts, the trial and crucifixion, were not therefore necessary to give His death atoning power. But God saw what the Jews would do, --that they would, in the exercise of their free agency, and without any decree, put Christ to death; and yet He sent Him at the time He did. All the glory of grace, therefore, redounds to the praise of the Lord, and the ignominy rests upon the Jews and the Gentiles. As a proof of universal foreordination, the passage proves nothing. GOD WORKETH ALL THINGS.--Ephes. i. 11 is adduced as upholding the predestination of all events. It reads thus: "In whom also we have obtained an inheritance, being predestinated according to the purpose of Him who worketh all things after the counsel of His own will." The stress of the passage as a proof rests on the words, "who worketh all things." But according to the canon of interpretation already stated--viz., that when the literal interpretation of a passage leads to absurdity, it cannot be the true one. John in his first epistle (ii. 20) says, "But ye have an unction from the Holy One, and ye know all things." To take these words literally would be to make those Christians to whom they were addressed to possess all knowledge, and thus make them equal to God, which is absurd. The words must be limited to the subject matter in which they are found. The apostle is speaking of the anointing of Christians, the imparting unto them of the Holy Ghost, and the phrase "all things" denotes things necessary to salvation, It is said (Acts ii. 44) that the first Christians "had all things common." But to take the words literally would be to outrage propriety. In Philippians ii. 14, it is written: "Do all things without murmurings and disputings." Here, again, the words must be limited in their application, otherwise the Christians were commanded to do all kinds of evil if commanded, without a murmur or dispute. This could not be, hence the words must be restricted to the duties devolving on them. So there must, of necessity, be restriction upon the passage in Ephesians quoted in the Confession of Faith. It must be restricted, otherwise it will follow that God is the only worker in the universe. And what is done in the world? God's laws are broken; but if He is the only worker, then He is the only breaker of His own laws! This is absurd, hence the literality must be given up. The obvious meaning is, that in the redemptive scheme God has wrought it all out according to the wise plan He had formed respecting it, just as He works out all His plans in nature and in providence. We know of no stronger passages than those mentioned, although others have been quoted. It is the easiest thing in the world to quote verses from the Bible as supporting a dogma; it is quite a different thing to show that they prove it. CHAPTER VI. OBJECTIONS TO CALVINISTIC PREDESTINATION. THERE are very grave objection's to this doctrine, that God hath foreordained whatsoever comes to pass. They are so formidable, indeed, that in view of them the doctrine to our finding must be rejected. On another occasion we stated several of these, which, with a few modifications, were the following:-- (1.) In the first place, we object to the doctrine of universal foreordination because, if adhered to, it makes science and philosophy _impossible_. These are all based upon the trustworthiness of consciousness, and if this is false we have no foundation to build upon. When we interrogate consciousness it testifies to our freedom. But if every volition is fixed, as it is held it is, by a power _ab extra_ from the mind exercising the volition, then consciousness is mendacious; it lies when it testifies to our freedom, and, therefore, cannot be trusted; thus, science, philosophy, and religion become impossible. The old Latin saw _falsum in uno, falsum in omnibus_, which, when freely translated, is--one who gives false evidence on one point may be doubted on all points. And where does this lead to? It leads to Pyrrhonism in science and philosophy, and indifferentism in religion. The doctrine is thus a foundation for universal scepticism. (2.) In the second place, we object to universal foreordination because it leads to Pantheism, a phase of Atheism. Pantheism as Pantheism may be viewed statically or dynamically. The static Pantheist assumes that all properties are properties of one substance. This was the feature of the vedanta system of Hindu philosophy, which holds that nothing exists but Brahma. "He is the clay, we are the forms; the eternal spider which spins from its own bosom the tissue of creation; an immense fire, from which creatures ray forth in myriads of sparks; the ocean of being, on whose surface appear and vanish the waves of existence; the foam of the waves, and the globules of the foam, which appear to be distinct from each other, but which are the ocean itself." Now, if our consciousness is only a dream, which this doctrine of foreordination makes it out to be, what are we all, in such a case, but mere _simulacra_, ghosts, shadows? This, and nothing more. We thus reach the fundamental principle of the Hindu philosophy, which is this, _Brahma only exists, all else is an illusion_. The dynamic Pantheist holds that all events are produced by one and the same cause. This is precisely the doctrine of the out-and-out Calvinist. God is said to be the "fixer" of whatsoever comes to pass; and Pantheism says every movement of nature is necessary, because necessarily caused by the Divine volition. He is the soul of the world, or as Shelley says-- "Spirit of nature, all-sufficing power, Necessity, thou mother of the world." The only platform from which Pantheism can be assailed is our consciousness of self,--of our own personality and freedom,--from which we rise to the personality and the freedom of God. The tenet of universal foreordination takes from us this "coigne of vantage," and lands us in dynamic Pantheism. (3.) In the third place, we object to universal foreordination because it destroys all moral distinctions. Praise has been bestowed upon Spinoza because he showed that moral distinctions are annihilated by the scheme of necessity. But, indeed, it requires very little perception to see that this must be the case. If God has, as is said, determined every event, then it is impossible for the creature to act otherwise than he does. A vast moral difference stands between the murderer and the saint. But if the doctrine of universal foreordination is true, we can neither blame the one nor praise the other. Each does as it was determined he should do, and could not but do, and to blame or praise anyone is impossible. "Man fondly dreams that he is free in act; Naught is he but the powerless worthless plaything Of the blind force that in his will itself Works out for him a dread necessity." There is therefore, according to this system, no right, no wrong, no sin, no holiness; for wherever necessity reigns, virtue and vice terminate. "Evil and good," says the Pantheist, "are God's right hand and left--evil is good in the making." Everything being fixed by God we can no more keep from doing what we do, than we can keep the earth from rolling round the sun. Since this monstrosity in morals results from the doctrine, it is evidently false. (4.) We object, in the fourth place, to universal foreordination, because it makes God the author of sin, the caveat of the Confession notwithstanding. It is said that God's foreknowledge involved foreordination. If so, the matter may be easily settled thus:--Does God foresee that men will sin? Of course He does. But if foreknowledge involves foreordination, then by the laws of logic He has foreordained sin. Syllogistically thus:--God only foreknows what He has fixed; but He foreknows sin, ergo, He fixed sin. We cannot resist this conclusion if we hold the premises. The Confession says He has foreordained everything, yet is He not the author of sin. But is it not clear as day that the author of a decree is the author of the thing decreed? David was held responsible for his decree regarding Uriah, and justly so. Had he been as clever as the authors of the Confession he could have parried that homethrust of Nathan, "Thou art the man." If everything that comes to pass was foreordained; David might have said, "I beg pardon, Nathan; it is true that I made the decree to have Uriah killed, but I did not kill him. Is it not the case that the author of a decree is not responsible for the sin of the decree?" Would Nathan have understood this logic? We think not. But if the Confession had been then in existence (if the anachronism may be pardoned), he might have appealed to it against Nathan; and we never should have had that awful threnody--the fifty-first Psalm. There is, then, no escape from the conclusion, that if everything that comes to pass has been foreordained, so also must it be the case with sin, for it also comes to pass. I open the page of history, and find it bloated with tears and blood. It is full of robberies, massacres, and murders. As specimens, look at the Murder of John Brown by Claverhouse; the massacre of St. Bartholomew; the sack of Magdeburg, when the Croats amused themselves with throwing children into the flames, and Pappenheim's Walloons with stabbing infants at their mothers' breasts. Who ordained these and a thousand such horrid deeds? The Confession says that God ordained them, for He foreordains whatsoever comes to pass. Tilly, the queen-mother, the infamous Catherine de Medici, Charles IX., the bloody "Clavers" were mere puppets. The Confession goes past all these, and says that God fixed them to take place. This is nothing else, in effect, than to place an almighty devil on the throne of the universe. This is strong language, but it is time, and more than time, that sickly dilettanteism should be left behind, and this gross libel on the Creator should be utterly rejected. He foreordains all His own deeds, but not the deeds of men. (5.) We object to the doctrine of universal foreordination, in the _fifth_ place, because it makes the day of judgment a farce. The books are opened, and men are about to receive acquittal or condemnation. This is perfectly right if men were free when on earth, but not so if all their deeds were foreordained by God. One of the most interesting sights in Strasbourg is the clock of the cathedral when it strikes twelve. Then the figures move. A man and a boy strike the bell, the apostles come out, and Christ blesses them. It is a wonderful piece of mechanism. But the figures are simply automatic. They move as they are moved. To try them in a court of justice (should anything go wrong), would be simply ridiculous--a farce. And if every one of our deeds is fixed, what better are men than mere automata? To try them, to judge them, and to award praise and blame for what was done, would be to burlesque justice. The judgment day, therefore, and foreordination of all things cannot stand in the same category. If we hold by the one we must give up the other. God foreknows all things, but foreordains only what He himself brings to pass. Man will be judged, condemned, or rewarded, according as he has acted in life; which judgment implies his freedom or the non-foreordination of his acts. The objections thus adduced are, in our judgment, quite sufficient to condemn the dogma of universal foreordination. Yet others of a grave character may be urged against it. It is a sacred duty as well as a privilege of the Christian, to defend the Divine administration when attacked by infidels. But if everything has been fixed how can this be done? Look at the fall. God knew that it would occur, but, according to Calvinism, He knew it because He had foreordained it. But the actors in the whole transaction were severely blamed and punished. To the serpent it was said, "Because thou hast done this, thou art cursed above all cattle and above every beast of the field." The woman was told that because she had done what she did, her sorrow was to be multiplied; and the man was driven out of Paradise, because he had hearkened unto the voice of his wife. Can such declarations be justified if the transactions recorded were all foreordained? Each of the parties condemned might have asked, and done so pertinently--Why put this punishment upon me when I was simply carrying out the Divine decrees? And what answer could be given? None that we know of which would satisfy the reason. And what, then? This--viz., that in the light of the drama of the fall, the doctrine of universal foreordination must be given up as a myth which ignores philosophy, and reflects injuriously upon the Divine character. In Jeremiah vii. 29-31 it is written: "Cut off thy hair, O Jerusalem, and cast it away, and take up a lamentation on high places . . . for the children of Judah have done evil in my sight, saith the Lord: they have set their abominations in the house which is called by my name, to pollute it. And they have built the high places of Tophet, . . . to burn their sons and their daughters in the fire; which I commanded them not, nor came it into my heart." Here the Lord expressly declares, that instead of having foreordained these deeds, such an idea was never in His heart. There is here a clear "Thus saith the Lord" against the dogma of universal predestination. In Mark v. 6, it is said of Jesus that "He marvelled because of their unbelief." But we only marvel when we are ignorant of the _cause_ of a phenomenon. As soon as we know this the marvel ceases. Had Jesus, therefore, known that all was fixed, He never would have marvelled. Would you marvel that the fire had gone out when it was decreed not to give additional fuel? Would the miller marvel that the mill did not go when he had ordained that the water should be shut off? The prefixing of all events, and "marvelling" at anything, are out of the question. But since Christ did "marvel" it shows that He believed that they _could_ and _ought_ to have believed, and that He knew of no reason why they did not. It may be said that He was a man, and spake and felt like a man. True, but will the followers of Calvin maintain that he knew more of divinity than Christ? We should think not. CHAPTER VII. GENERAL SUMMARY OF THE DOCTRINE. WE have thus endeavoured to show that the doctrine of universal predestination--the foundation of the Calvinistic theology--is not based upon the principle of the Divine wisdom, nor upon Divine power, nor upon Divine foreknowledge, nor proved by the Scripture texts advanced on its behalf. It is closely allied to Pantheism and the fate of the Stoics. It shakes hands with Socialism, which maintains that man can have no merit or demerit, that he could not be otherwise than he has been and is (_Socialism_, by Owen). It is the creed of the Mahometans. According to them every action in a man's life has been written down in the _preserved tablets_, which have been kept in the seventh heaven from all eternity. "No accident," saith the Koran, "happeneth on the earth, or on your persons, but the same was entered into the book of our decrees before we created it. Verily this is easy with God: and this is written lest ye immoderately grieve for the good which escapeth you, or rejoice for that which happeneth unto you." They might fall in battle, but it was so decreed, and at the resurrection they would appear with their "wounds brilliant as vermilion, and odorous as musk." Since the primary principle of Calvinism is a foundation principle of Pantheism, Socialism, Stoicism, and Mahometanism, Calvinists may well question whether they have not been building upon the sand, instead of the eternal rock of immutable truth. In view of the doctrine we have advocated, viz., that God has not ordained whatsoever comes to pass, but has left each man to be the arbiter of his own fate, we can see the propriety of the exhortation, "I call heaven and earth to record this day against you, that I have set before you life and death, blessing and cursing: therefore choose life, that both thou and thy seed may live" (Deut. xxx. 19). It is the same still. God has provided a Saviour for all, and, therefore, for each. It is the province of the Holy Spirit to testify respecting Christ,--that He is able to save the very worst, and as willing as He is able. Each may choose to neglect this Saviour, or reject Him by choosing some other ground; or may choose Him as his only refuge. This choice has to be made by each man himself. No man can choose for another any more than he can eat or drink for another. It belongs entirely to each to do this. To choose Him is to choose life. To neglect or reject Him is to choose --death. Which will it be? The principle--viz., of choice, runs through life. Your happiness here depends on it in numberless instances. It is recognised everywhere in the Bible. Its exhortations summed up are expressed thus--"Turn ye, turn ye, why will you die?" It thus rests with you, and with you only--after what God has done for you--whether you shall live or die. PART II.--REPROBATION. CHAPTER I. THE CALVINISTIC DOCTRINE OF REPROBATION STATED. THE subjects of reprobation and election are so closely connected that they might be considered in one chapter. Indeed, so close is the connection, that certain verses supposed to prove one of them, are also adduced to prove the other, as--"Jacob have I loved, but Esau have I hated." It is, however, stoutly maintained that election is scriptural, whilst reprobation is repudiated. It is important to have clear ideas on the subject. What, then, are we to understand by the doctrine of reprobation? The question is not whether those dying in impenitency shall be subjected to suffering; for this is held by the opponents of Calvinism as well as by Calvinists themselves. The question is this, Is it true that God in a past eternity foreordained millions of men to endless misery, that to this end they were born, and to this end they must go? John Calvin held that it was so. He says, "All are not created on equal terms, but some are foreordained to eternal life, others to eternal damnation; and accordingly as each has been created for one or other of these ends, we say that he has been predestinated to life or to death." He says, again, "If we cannot assign any reason for God's bestowing mercy on His people, but just that it so pleases Him, neither can we have any reason for His reprobating others; but His will. When God is said to visit in mercy, or to harden whom He will, men are reminded that they are not to seek for any cause beyond His will." He says, again, "The human mind, when it hears this doctrine, cannot restrain its petulance, but boils and rages, as if aroused by the sound of a trumpet. Many, professing a desire to defend the Deity from an invidious charge, admit the doctrine of election, but deny that any one is reprobated. This they do ignorantly and childishly, since there could be no election without its opposite--reprobation. Those, therefore, whom God passes by He reprobates, and that for no other cause but because He is pleased to exclude them from the inheritance which He predestines to His children". (_Inst_., b. iii.). Zanchius held--"It was therefore the first thing which God determined concerning them from eternity--namely, the ordination of certain men to everlasting destruction" (_Thesis de Reprob_.). Elnathan Parr maintained, "If a man be reprobated he shall certainly be damned, do what he can" (_Grounds of Divinity_). Maccovius says that "God has indeed decreed to damn some men eternally, and on this account He has ordained them to sin but each sins on his own account, and freely." To like purpose we might quote Maloratus, Amandus Pollanus, John Norton, John Brown of Wamphray, Piscator, &c. (_Vide Old Gospel_, &c., Young, Edin.) Calvin and his followers did not mince the matter, as these extracts clearly show. The Lambeth Articles expressed the same ideas as above. Article First says, "God hath from eternity predestinated certain persons to life, and hath reprobated certain persons to death." Article Third runs thus, "The predestinate are a predeterminate and certain number, which can neither be lessened nor increased." Article Ninth has these words, "It is not in the will or power of every man to be saved." The Lambeth Articles were drawn up as expressing the sense of the Church of England, or, rather, a section of it. They were merely declaratory, and recommended to the students of Cambridge, where a controversy had arisen regarding grace. They received the sanction of the Archbishop of Canterbury, the Bishop of London, and a few others. The Synod of Dort, as intimated, was held in 1618, and had divines in it from Switzerland, Hesse, the Palatinate, Bremen, England, and Scotland. Its first article runs thus: "That God by an absolute decree had elected to salvation a very small number of men, without any regard to their faith or obedience whatsoever; and secluded from saving grace all the rest of mankind, and appointed them by the same decree to eternal damnation, without any regard to their infidelity or impenitency" (Tom., p. 567). The Synods of Dort and Arles declared that if they knew the reprobates, they would not, by Austin's advice, pray for them any more than they would for the devils (_Old Gospel_, &c.) In this they were entirely consistent, whatever else they might be. The Westminster Assembly met in London in 1643. They drew up the Confession of Faith and the Catechisms. In its third chapter the Confession declares:--"By the decree of God, for the manifestation of His glory, some men and angels are predestinated unto everlasting life, and others foreordained to everlasting death. These angels and men thus predestinated and foreordained are particularly and unchangeably designed, and their number is so certain and definite that it can neither be increased nor diminished." The Confession of Faith is the declared standard of doctrine of Presbyterians in general in this country. It is proper to note this fact, because it has been denied that whilst election is held reprobation is denied. They are both in the Confession. From what we have thus brought forward it appears evident that, according to Calvin, reputed Calvinistic divines, the Lambeth Articles, the Synod of Dort, and the Westminster Assembly, there is a portion of the human family born under the decree of reprobation --born--we do not like the expression, but it is the case--born to be damned. It is a harsh expression, but the blame does not rest with us, but with those who hold the doctrine. CHAPTER II. THE BIBLE USAGE OF THE WORD REPROBATION. THE word "reprobation," according to the _Imperial Dictionary_, means "to disallow," "not enduring proof or trial," "disallowed," "rejected." Gesenius says the Hebrew word (_maas_) primarily means to reject, and is used (_a_.) of God rejecting a people or an individual--Jer. vi. 30; vii. 29; xiv. 19; 1 Samuel xv. 23; (_b_.) of men as rejecting God and His precepts--1 Samuel xv. 23. The Greek word (_adokimos_) denotes, according to Robinson, "not approved," "rejected." In N. T. Metaph., "worthy of condemnation"--"reprobate" --"useless"--"worthless." It occurs seven times in the English translation; once in the Old Testament, and six times in the New. In none of the instances, however, does it convey the idea of unconditionalism. _First passage_.--In Jer. vi. 30, it is written: "Reprobate silver shall men call them, because the Lord hath rejected them." But why were they rejected--reprobated? The answer is contained in the context. It is there said, "They are all grievous revolters, walking with slanders: they are brass and iron; they are all corrupters. The bellows are burnt, the lead is consumed of the fire, the founder melteth in vain; for the wicked are not plucked away." Everything had been done to save them, and when all remedial agencies had failed, they were declared to be rejected--reprobated. The _second_ passage is in Rom. i. 28: "And even as they did not like to retain God in their knowledge, God gave them over to a reprobate mind, to do those things which are not convenient." Here, again, we have reprobation; but then they were given over to this state on the ground that they did not like to retain God in their knowledge. The reprobation was therefore conditional, and not Calvinistic. The _third_ passage is in 2 Cor. xiii. 5: "Know ye not your own selves, how that Jesus Christ is in you, except ye be reprobates." Grotius explains _adokimoi_--"reprobates," thus: "Christians in name only and not in deed." Dr. Hamond as "steeped and hardened." Vorstius, "wicked, and unfit for the faith." Dickson, "as unworthy of the name of Christian." Calvin, "unless you by your crimes have cast off Christ" (Whitby, _ad loc_.) Doddridge paraphrases the passage thus: "Are ye not sensible that Jesus Christ is dwelling in you by the sanctifying and transforming influences of His spirit, unless ye are mere nominal Christians, and such as, whatever your gifts be, will finally be disapproved and rejected as reprobate silver that will not stand the touch?" The reprobation again implied a condition, and was non-Calvinistic. The _fourth_ passage is as follows:--"But I trust that ye shall know that we are not reprobates" (2 Cor. xiii. 6). Barnes's paraphrase of the text is this: "Whatever may be the result of the examination of yourselves, I trust (_Gr_., I hope) you will not find us false, and to be rejected; that is, I trust you will find in me evidence that I am commissioned by the Lord Jesus to be His apostle." There is nothing in the verse to favour unconditional reprobation. The _fifth_ passage runs thus: "Now I pray God that ye do no evil; not that we should appear approved, but that ye should do that which is honest, though we be as reprobates" (2 Cor. xiii. 7). The meaning is plain enough. Paul desired that his readers should live pure and honourable lives, although he and these associated with him should be rejected as bad silver is rejected--reputed silver that cannot stand the tests. The verse gives no countenance to Calvinistic reprobation. The _sixth_ passage is this: "Now as Jannes and Jambres withstood Moses, so do these also resist the truth: men of corrupt minds, reprobate concerning the faith" (2 Tim. iii. 8). But here again we have the moral state of those men brought before us--they "resisted the truth," and were men of corrupt minds. They could not stand the test of examination, and were rejected or disallowed as members of the Christian community. There is no unconditionalism here: The _seventh_ text is as follows: "They profess that they know God; but in works they deny Him, being abominable, and disobedient, and unto every good work reprobate" (Titus i. 16). The passage, according to all the ancient commentators who write upon it, refers to the Jews (Whitby). Its meaning is finely hit off by Doddridge, who; paraphrasing the words, says, "And with respect to every good work disapproved and condemned when brought to the standard of God's word, though they are the first to judge and condemn others." They had been tried in the balance and found wanting. They were so utterly bad that in view of good works they were of no account. The reprobation was conditional. The Greek word (_adokimos_) is used in Heb. vi. 8, but is translated "rejected." It has reference to ground. But why was the ground rejected, or reprobated? Unconditionally? Nay, but because it yielded, instead of good fruit, "briers and thorns." The human mind is like a field, and God is the husbandman. He uses various methods to produce the fruits of righteousness, and when these fail, judgment is pronounced against the mind. And is not this just? As far, therefore, as the word is concerned, there is not the most distant support given to the doctrine of an eternal decree foredooming millions of men to hopeless misery. It is something gained when we find this to be the case. On what, then, does the doctrine rest, if not upon the use of the word? It is supposed to rest upon the sovereignty of God, and certain passages of Scripture, although the word "reprobate" is not found in them. The term sovereign is from the French "sovereign," and that again from the Latin "supernus." It means supreme in power, supreme to all others. That God occupies this position will not be questioned by any one who believes in Him. The matter, therefore, is not one of sovereignty, or whether God is 'the only' absolute Sovereign in the universe. This is admitted. The question is this--what has God, in the exercise of His sovereignty, chosen to do? To adduce proofs in its support is beside the point, since we hold it as firmly as our opponents in this controversy. Nebuchadnezzar uttered a great truth when he said that God "doeth according to His will in the army of heaven, and among the inhabitants of the earth." But what is His will? Is man governed by the law of necessity as storms are, and as waters are? These creatures do as God desires; is it so as regards man? The condemnation that each passes on himself is the best answer. Man may transgress, but God by virtue of His absolute sovereignty has appointed the penalty, and no one can reverse His decree. CHAPTER III. PROOF TEXTS FOR CALVINISTIC REPROBATION EXAMINED. PASSAGES OF SCRIPTURE.--There are certain passages of the Bible supposed to teach the doctrine of Calvinistic reprobation, and it may be well to examine their meaning. REPROBATION AND THE EVIL DAY.--In Proverbs xvi. 4, it is written: "The Lord hath made all things for Himself, even the wicked for the day of evil." This passage is supposed to teach the doctrine of Calvin, that some men have been reprobated from eternity, and come into existence with the doom of death eternal on their brow. The first part of the verse presents no difficulty. It brings before us the idea that God Himself is the great object of creation. It is proper that this should be so. He is the greatest and the best of beings, and to have created for a lesser object than Himself would not have been conformable to the dictate of the reason. It is the second part of the verse which is supposed to teach the doctrine of eternal and unconditional reprobation. Calvin's idea of the passage is that the wicked were created for "certain death that His name (God's) may be glorified in their destruction." Let us suppose this to be the meaning--what then? The word "glory" in Hebrew means "beauty," "honour," "adornment." All around us lies the beautiful --the earth with her carpet of flowers--and the overarching skies --the sun, the moon, and the stars, are all beautiful. "Oh, if so much beauty doth reveal Itself in every vein of life and motion, How beautiful must be the source itself, The ever bright one."--TEGNER. But there is a moral beauty in God. It lies in the supreme moral excellence of His character; in His holiness, in His love, in His truthfulness, in His patience, in His gentleness, in His mercy. These attributes existing in God in the highest perfection, constitute the glory of the Most High. "Beauty and kindness go together" saith the poet; but is there any kindness in creating men for the purpose of making them miserable for ever? For ourselves we see no beauty, no glory in this--but the reverse. We regard it as a libel upon the character of the ever blessed God. The meaning of the passage is simple enough. God hath appointed good for the righteous and evil for the wicked. Though hand join in hand the wicked shall not go unpunished. One version of the passage is, "Jehovah hath made all things to answer each other, even the day of calamities for the wicked" (Davidson's _Commentary_). In Collins' _Critical Commentary_ it is explained thus: "For Himself or for its answer or purpose . . . . Sin and suffering answer to each other, are indissolubly united" (_ad loc_). Thus interpreted, there is nothing in the passage to create difficulty. John xii. 37, 41, reads thus: "But though He had done so many miracles before them, yet they believed not on Him: that the saying of Esaias the prophet might be fulfilled, which he spake, Lord, who hath believed our report? and to whom hath the arm of the Lord been revealed? Therefore they could not believe, because Esaias said again, He hath blinded their eyes, and hardened their heart; that they should not see with their eyes, nor understand with their heart, and be converted, and I should heal them. These things said Esaias when he saw His glory, and spake of Him." Calvin held that John, "citing this prophecy (of Isaiah), declares that the Jews could not believe because this curse of God was upon them." The first portion of the quotation is from Isaiah liii. 1, "who hath believed our report?" &c. The question would imply that comparatively few had at first responded to the Gospel invitation. The larger portion of the passage is from Isaiah vi. It is as follows: "Go ye, and tell this people, Hear ye indeed, but understand not; and see ye indeed, but perceive not. Make the heart of this people fat, and make their ears heavy, and shut their eyes; lest they see with their eyes, and hear with their ears, and understand with their hearts, and convert, and be healed" (vers. 9, 10). The passage is quoted by Matthew (xiii. 14, 15). Dr. Randolph, as quoted by Horne, says on this passage, "This quotation is taken almost verbatim from the Septuagint. In the Hebrew the sense is obscured by false pointing. If instead of reading it in the imperative mood, we read it in the indicative mood, the sense will be, 'Ye shall hear, but not understand; and ye shall see, but not perceive. This people hath made their heart fat, and hath made their ears heavy, and shut their eyes,' &c., which agrees in _sense_ with the evangelist and with the Septuagint, as well as with the Syriac and Arabic versions, but not with the Latin Vulgate. We have the same quotation, word for word, in Acts xxviii. 26. Mark and Luke refer to the same prophecy, but quote it only in part." The Hebrew vowel points which make the passage in Isaiah to be read in the imperative mood were only introduced some 700 years after the birth of Christ (Gesenius). Read in this light the passage gives no support to the doctrine sought to be fastened on it. The oracle was originally applied to the Jews living in the time of Isaiah. They were then exceedingly depraved; and the evangelist found that the words were applicable to the Jews living in the time of Christ. Horne, writing on "accommodation," observes, "It was a familiar idiom of the Jews when quoting the writings of the Old Testament to say that it might be fulfilled which was spoken by such and such a prophet, not intending it to be understood that such a particular passage in one of the sacred books was ever designed to be a real prediction of what they were then relating, but signifying only that the words of the Old Testament might be properly adopted to express their meaning and illustrate their ideas" (_Intro_., Vol. II.) "The apostles," he adds, "who were Jews by birth, and spoke in the Jewish idiom, frequently thus cite the Old Testament, intending no more by this mode of speaking than that the words of such an ancient writer might with equal propriety be adopted to characterise any similar occurrence which happened in their times. The formula, 'That it might be fulfilled,' does not therefore differ in signification from the phrase, 'then was fulfilled,' applied in the following citation in Matt. ii. 17, 18, from Jer. xxxi. 15, 17, to the massacre of the infants in Bethlehem. They are a beautiful quotation, and not a prediction, of what then happened, and are therefore applied to the massacre of the infants, according not to their original and historical meaning, but according to Jewish phraseology (_Vide_ Kitto, Art. Accom.) The principle of accommodation clears away all difficulty. It is also in harmony with the context, as applied in John. Christ exhorted those around Him to believe in the light, that they might be the children of the light. But how could He exhort them to believe in the light, if He knew that the Divine Father had rendered their doing so an impossibility? Would you ask a man to walk who had no legs? to look, if he had no eyes? Underlying the exhortation to walk in the light lay the idea that they were able to perform it. It has been said that although we have lost the power to obey, God has not lost the power to command. Dr. Thomas Reid meets this notion thus: "Suppose a man employed in the navy of his country, and, longing for the ease of a public hospital as an invalid, to cut off his fingers so as to disable him from doing the duty of a sailor; he is guilty of a great crime, but after he has been punished according to the demerit of his crime, will his captain insist that he shall do the duty of a sailor? Will he command him to go aloft when it is impossible for him to do it, and punish him as guilty of disobedience? Surely if there be any such thing as justice and injustice, this would be unjust and wanton cruelty" (Hamilton's Reid, p. 621). Yet whilst there is no decree dooming men to hardness of heart or moral blindness, this state may be reached. Many are progressing towards it, many are now in it. They have turned a deaf ear to the cry of mercy, and are like the ground that has been often rained upon, but brought out only briers and thorns. The difficulty of the return of such does not lie with God, but in the habit of evil contracted and persisted in by the wrong-doers. God desires the salvation of all men, and has made the way open for all by the propitiation of Christ. THE EPISTLE TO THE ROMANS.--The apostle of the Gentiles is supposed to have clearly established, in this epistle, the doctrine that some are born to be saved, and others born to be lost. The ninth chapter especially has been the great storehouse of arguments for such as hold this view. The strong-minded and the weak-kneed have all resorted thither. They entrench themselves behind such passages as, "Jacob have I loved, but Esau have I hated;" "Hath not the potter power over the clay?" and think, by repeating them, that they have settled the controversy. JACOB AND ESAU.--We shall consider the proof texts in this chapter under the form of inquiry, and answer. Inquirer: "But does not the passage 'Jacob have I loved, but Esau have I hated' (verse 13), prove that the man Jacob was elected to eternal live, and the man Esau reprobated or doomed to eternal death?" Answer--Far from it, as we shall soon see. The passage is a quotation from Malachi i. 2, 3. If you look at the context of the quotation you will see that the prophet is speaking of the _people_ "Jacob" and the people "Esau," or the Edomites. It is of the utmost moment to see this, as it has a most important bearing upon the controversy. The fourth and fifth verses read thus:--"Whereas Edom saith, We are impoverished, but we will return and build the desolate places; thus saith the Lord of hosts, They shall build, but I will throw down; and they shall call them, The border of wickedness, and, The people against whom the Lord hath indignation for ever. And your eyes shall see, and ye shall say, The Lord will be magnified from the border of Israel." The plural pronouns used, "we," "us," "ye," "they," and the term "people," prove that the prophet was speaking, not of the man "Jacob," nor of the man "Esau," but of the respective peoples which had descended from them. Look now at the word "loved." It has been taken to mean God's electing love. But if this were so, then it will follow that all the Jewish people would be saved. And if so, why was it that Paul was so distressed about them, as he says, in the first part of the chapter, that he was? He had great "heaviness and continual sorrow" regarding the spiritual state of his countrymen; but if they were unconditionally elected to eternal life, then Paul was certainly carrying a useless burden. The "love" spoken of was representative of God's kindness in bestowing upon the people Jacob the privilege of being the Messianic people. The word "hated" will thus signify, as the opposite of "loved," that the people Esau might be said (from a certain standpoint) to be "hated;" that is, "less loved" in comparison with the favour bestowed upon the people Jacob. This meaning is in harmony with Hebrew idiom. The words "loved" and "hated" are used in a relative sense. Christ says, "If any man come to me, and hate not his father, and mother, and wife, and children, and brethren, and sisters, yea, and his own life also, he cannot be my disciple" (Luke xiv. 26). This passage throws an important light on the subject. No one will contend that Christ meant that we should hate our parents. He simply brings before us this truth, that we were to love Him above all relatives; but the use of the term "hate" by Him takes it out of the category of the absolute, and places it in the relative. And this must be its meaning as used by Paul. If not, if it means that the race of Esau has been reprobated, then there is no Gospel for them, and Christ's command to preach the Gospel to every creature must be limited. To send a missionary to the Arabs would be absurd if this doctrine is true. Thank God it is not so. The Jews took up the position that they must be saved; that they did not need the Gospel; that being Abraham's seed they could not possibly be damned. Paul felt deeply grieved with respect to the position they occupied, and sought to dislodge them from it. "As to the fine logic of his argument, bear in mind that he has been proving in the preceding context that the lineal descent of the Jews from the patriarch Abraham did not, as they fancied it did, make them curse-proof for eternity. He proves this in the sixth, seventh, eighth, and ninth verses . . . by showing that the Ishmaelites could boast of a descent as lineal and patriarchal as theirs, and yet it did not suffice to instal them in the medium Messianic privilege of being Abraham's favoured children for time. By showing this, he leaves us to draw the natural inference that the lineal descent which could not instal Ishmaelites in the medium Messianic privilege of being Abraham's highly-favoured children for time, could never be sufficient to instal the infatuated Christ-rejecting Jews in the peerless privilege of being Abraham's glory-inheriting and curse -proof spiritual seed, his highly-favoured children for eternity. . . . He then proceeds to prove again his already proved position, and thus to clench his argument. This he does in the third section of the chapter, which begins with the tenth verse and ends with the thirteenth. . . . His proof consists of the fact that the Edomites were as purely descended from Abraham through Isaac, as were the Israelites; and yet, as is manifest at once from the declaration made to Rebecca, 'the greater people shall be inferior to the lesser,' and from the stronger statement made to the Israelites themselves by God in Malachi, 'the people Jacob have I loved, but the people Esau have I hated,'--this pure-lineal patriarchal descent of the Rebecca-born Edomites was not sufficient to elevate them to the enjoyment of the medium privilege of Abraham's Messianic children. This being the case, it was scarcely short of perfect madness for the Israelites to suppose that _their_ pure descent from Abraham would suffice to constitute them his glory-inheriting and curse-proof spiritual children, his highly-favoured seed for eternity. Such is the fine and matchless logic of the apostle's argumentation" (Morison, _Romans IX_.). The interpretation thus given makes the apostle to be consistent with himself, and in harmony with the "analogy of faith." The Calvinistic interpretation makes the apostle inconsistent with himself, and the command to preach the Gospel to every creature--a nullity. MERCY ON WHOM HE WILL.--_Inquirer_,--"But did not God claim the right to extend mercy to whom He pleased, and to withhold it from whom He pleased?" _Answer_,--It is even so. Paul says, "For He saith to Moses, I will have mercy on whom I will have mercy, and I will have compassion on whom I will have compassion" (Rom. ix. 15). The quotation is from Exodus xxxiii. 19. The Israelites had committed the sin of making the golden calf, and were threatened with destruction; but God was entreated not to destroy them utterly, and Moses was assured that God would extend mercy as He should see fit. The quotation has a bearing upon the position of the Jews and Paul's argument. They were filled with self-sufficiency and pride, and in great danger. In the reply to Moses, God claimed the right of extending mercy as He pleased, and would not allow Moses to interfere with His prerogative. The Jews were reminded by the quotation that God had a right to say on what terms He would have mercy upon sinners. He does not state the principle after the quotation, but does so in verses 30-33 of this chapter. He extends mercy to those who believe in Jesus: PHARAOH.--_Inquirer_,--"But what do you make of Pharaoh? Was he not a typical illustration of the unconditionally reprobated?" _Answer_,--It is thought so. The apostle refers to the wicked king in the seventeenth verse. His case was analogous to that occupied by the Jews. He had been raised up from a sick bed, treated most graciously, but became hardened under the influence of mercy, and was at last destroyed. The Jews had also been very generously dealt with, but instead of yielding were becoming indurated, and unless they repented, would, as Pharaoh was, be destroyed. It is said that God hardened Pharaoh's heart, and also that He hardened his own heart. Both statements are true, but looked at from different standpoints. God softens or hardens human hearts as they keep the mind in truth or falsehood. THE POTTER AND THE CLAY.--_Inquirer_,--"But what of the potter and the clay, verse twenty-one?" _Answer_,--The question discussed in the ninth of the Romans is a question of Divine sovereignty, or God's right to appoint the destinies of men after their moral probation is over. The potter claimed the right to say what he should do in respect of the vessels which he had made. Should one become marred in his hands, he makes it into a vessel of dishonour or inferiority. If not, if it turned out as he wished it, then it occupied the position of a vessel of honour. The illustration came with crushing power against the Jews. The attitude of hostility which they then occupied was that of being marred in the hands of God, and He claimed the right of appointing them their destiny. If they refused the Saviour whom Paul preached, if they continued morally unregenerated, then the mere fact of being Abraham's seed would not save them. As regards their fate hereafter, they would be as clay in the hands of the potter. We have thus seen that those passages so much relied on have really no bearing upon reprobation or predestination. They refer to another and distinct question--namely, that of SOVEREIGNTY. Had God a RIGHT to select the Jacobites as the Messianic people instead of the Edomites? The Jews would not dispute this. But had He a right to extend mercy as He saw fit? Had He a right to destroy Pharaoh when he refused to yield? Had He a right to deal with the destinies of men as He judged right? If He had, then the Jews had not a foot to stand upon in their absurd contention, that because they had descended from Abraham they must needs be saved. According to Paul's theology, God, in the exercise of sovereignty, had appointed faith as the condition of salvation, and if they refused to comply with the condition, then, as the Israelites were destroyed in the wilderness for lack of faith, as Pharaoh was destroyed in the sea when he refused obedience, and as the potter assigned an inferior position to the marred vessel, so would the Divine Ruler visit the Jews with evil if they refused to accept of Christ. There is nothing in this ninth chapter to frighten any one. The Jew expected to be saved by works (see vers. 30-33), and on the ground of his descent from Abraham. The apostle sweeps both of these away, and presents Christ as the only ground for them. And the ground that was for them is for all. THE STONE OF STUMBLING.--In 1 Peter ii. 8 it is written: "And a stone of stumbling, and a rock of offence, even to them which stumble at the word, being disobedient: whereunto also they were appointed." This text is supposed to teach that the parties spoken of were appointed to be disobedient. At the first glance it would seem to teach this. But the principle of interpretation to which we have referred--namely, that when the mere grammatical construction of a passage is clearly absurd, it is clear it cannot be the true one, and we must look for another meaning. Now, if the "whereunto" refers to the "disobedient," how could they be charged with disobedience if they were just doing what they were appointed to do? If Christ was put before those unbelievers for the purpose of making them disobey, then would not this be to put a stumbling-block in their way? Surely such conduct is infinitely the opposite of a good God. Another translation of the passage, including verse 7, is this: --"Unto you, therefore, who believe He is precious; but unto those who disbelieve, the stone which the builders disallowed has become the head of the corner, and a stone of stumbling, and a rock of offence. They, disbelieving the word, stumble--that is, fall or perish, whereunto also they were appointed." That is, unbelievers are appointed to perish if they continue unbelievers. Horne says, "Hence it is evident that 1 Peter ii. 8 is not that God ordained them to disobedience (for in that case their obedience would have been impossible, and their disobedience no sin), but that God, the righteous Judge of all the earth, had appointed or decreed that destruction and eternal perdition should be the punishment of such disbelieving persons who willingly reject all the evidences that Jesus Christ was the Messiah, the Saviour of the world. The mode of pointing above adopted is that proposed by Drs. John Taylor, Doddridge, and Macknight, and recognised by Greisbach in his _Critical Edition of the New Testament_, and is manifestly required by the context" (Vol. IV., p. 398). The passage as thus explained has no difficulty. Blessings come to those believing, evil to those disbelieving. FOREORDAINED TO CONDEMNATION.--In Jude, verse 4, it is written thus: "For there are certain men crept in unawares, who were of old foreordained to this condemnation, ungodly men, turning the grace of our God into lasciviousness, and denying the only Lord God, and our Lord Jesus Christ." The passage contains the reason why the apostle had urged the Christians to contend earnestly for the faith once delivered to the saints. The term "ordained" in the passage means "to write before," or "aforetime," "to post up publicly in writing." Certain men of bad character had got into the church, but the condemnation of such had been intimated before. Macknight says, "Jude means that these wicked teachers had their punishment before written--that is, foretold in what is written concerning the wicked Sodomites and rebellious Israelites, whose crimes were the same with theirs." To write regarding certain characters, and intimating their punishment, is a widely different thing from unconditional reprobation. The passages thus examined are the principal ones brought forward to prove that some men are foreordained to everlasting ruin. We do not think they prove this, and we reject the doctrine. CHAPTER IV. OBJECTIONS TO CALVINISTIC REPROBATION. _In the first place_, we object to it because it impeaches the Divine Fatherhood. God sustains to the human family the relation of a Father. He is the Creator of the sun and stars, but not their father. Fatherhood carries in it two ideas,--creation and similarity of nature. He is the Creator of the sun and stars, but they do not possess a nature like His. But in man there is a Divine likeness, an epitome of God. There is the power of thought, will, and feeling. In this broad view every man is a son of God. He has been created by Him, and, so far, is like Him. It is very true that man has rebelled and ignores the relationship. But denial of relationship does not abolish it. A son may deny his own father, and claim another to be so; and men have denied God, and acted as the children of the devil. But although they have rebelled, He earnestly remembers them. They are prodigals, but they are His prodigals. He made them, and He feels for them. A good father feels for all his children. Could we call a father a good father who foreordains that one-half of his offspring should be burned? But this is the doctrine of Calvinistic reprobation! It cannot stand in the light of the parable of the prodigal son. As that father in that parable felt to his prodigal child, so God _feels_ to every one of His prodigals. We reject this doctrine of unconditional reprobation, _In the second place_, because it impeaches the Divine _sincerity_. Sincerity is descriptive of the harmony that exists between the feelings of the heart and the utterances of the lips. "Sincerity, The first of virtues, let no mortal leave Thy onward path, although the earth should gape, And from the gulph of hell destruction cry To take dissimulation's winding way." An insincere man, who professes one thing whilst he feels another, is universally despised. Now, when I take up the Bible, what do I find? I find it full of invitations to all men to come and be saved. "Look unto me, all ye ends of the earth, and be saved." "Ho, every one that thirsteth; come ye to the waters." "Turn ye, turn ye, why will you die?" Now, these invitations are addressed to all alike. Their value turns on this--does God _mean_ what He says? Not so if Calvinistic reprobation be true. But if He does mean what He says --that He really wishes all saved--then these utterances reveal the great heart of God as it gathers round every human being; and the Calvinistic dogma of unconditional reprobation is a huge lie, that should be thrown back to the place whence it came. CHAPTER V. SUMMARY OF THE BIBLE DOCTRINE OF REPROBATION. THERE is a doctrine of reprobation taught in the Bible. The word, as we have seen, is several times used in the sacred writings. It means, according to classic Greek, "not standing the test," "spurious, base, properly (1.) of coin, (2.) of persons," "ignoble, mean" (Liddell and Scott). In the Bible it signifies the same thing, "disapproved," "rejected," "undiscerning," "void of judgment." Cruden says, "This word among metallists is used to signify any metal that will not undergo the trial, that betrays itself to be adulterate or reprobate, and of a coarse alloy. . . . A reprobate mind, that is, a mind hardened in wickedness, and so stupid as not to discern between good and evil." We are quite familiar with the idea in everyday life. Ships, horses, land, governments, individuals, are being constantly subjected to trial, and, being found wanting, are rejected, _reprobated_. And what thus takes place in the lower plane of things, takes place in the sphere of morals. Men are now on trial for eternity. If they act as God wishes them, they shall walk with him in white, and sit down at the marriage -supper of the Lamb; but if not, then they will be rejected. The great principle is neither more nor less than this--namely, that men shall reap as they sowed. The principle is just. If men sow nettle -seed or the seed of briers and thorns, is it not fair that they should reap the fruit? The great principle, then, of the Bible is this: "If ye be willing and obedient, ye shall eat the good of the land; but if ye refuse and rebel, ye shall be devoured by the sword" (Isaiah i. 19, 20). It is a blessed thing, then, to know that on your head there is no decree of unconditional reprobation. You may be saved. Your heavenly Father wishes you saved, for He is "not willing that you should perish" (2 Peter iii. 9); and He wishes "all men saved" (1 Timothy ii. 4), and therefore you. He has done all He can for you. Will you be saved? It rests with you to build only on Christ, and conform your life after the pattern He has left. PART III.--ELECTION. CHAPTER I. THEORIES OF CALVINISTIC ELECTION. IF the question of Calvinistic reprobation is fitted to freeze the blood and repel the mind from God, that of election, as represented by the same school, is calculated to perplex and disturb the inquirer after truth. At the noonday meeting in Glasgow, some time ago, the prayers of those present were requested on behalf of a lady who was troubled with the doctrine of election! She is, we believe, a type of thousands. Poor woman! had she listened to the teachings of Scripture instead of to those of man, she need have had no trouble in the matter. Heaven's order is--"Believe in the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be saved." In other words, believe that God loves yourself, that Christ made an atonement for thy sin, and thou shalt enter among the saved ones--or the elect. There are four different theories regarding this subject:-- (1.) There is, _first_, the supralapsarian theory. Those who hold this view are high Calvinists. According to this theory, God, without any regard to the good or evil works of men, resolved by an eternal decree, _supra lapsum_, antecedently to any knowledge of the fall of Adam, and independent of it, to reject some and save others; or, in other words, that God intended to glorify His justice in the condemnation of some as well as His mercy in the salvation of others, and for that end decreed that Adam should necessarily fall (Buck). (2.) The _second_ theory is designated _sublapsarianism_. According to this view, God permitted the first man to fall into transgression without absolutely predetermining his fall; or, that the decree of predestination regards man as fallen by an abuse of that freedom which Adam had. In other words, they regard the decrees of election and reprobation as having reference to man in his fallen condition. But according to this theory God loves only a portion of our race --gives His Son to die for this only, and His converting grace to this only. This portion is designated the elect. (3.) A _third_ view is that God loves all men, has given His Son to die for all men, but His saving grace is not given to all, but only to some. This is modern Calvinism. "Election is then," says Dr. Payne, "God's purpose to exert upon the minds of certain members of the human family that spiritual and holy influence which will secure their ultimate salvation" (_Lect. on Sovy_.) (4.) A _fourth_ view is that God loves all men, that Christ died for all men, and that converting grace is given to all men; and that those of mankind who believe God's testimony regarding His Son, become His elect or chosen ones. It is this view which we support. The first three theories have points of difference and agreement, but in their last analysis they come to this, that God does not wish all men saved, only some--the elect. CHAPTER II. CALVINISTIC ELECTION INVOLVES POSITIVE REFUSAL TO PROVIDE SAVING GRACE FOR THE LOST. Dr. PAYNE, one of the subtlest and most accomplished of modern Calvinists, argues strongly against the notion that the decree of election involves the decree of reprobation. He says "I may determine to relieve one out of twenty destitute families in my neighbourhood, without positively determining not to relieve the others; and if any one should ask me why others are not relieved, it would be sufficient to reply that the giving of actual relief can only spring from a determination to relieve, which in reference to them does not exist. I may determine to take a book from the shelf, without a positive determination not to take the others. There may, indeed, be such a determination, but it is not necessarily implied in the determination to take, and that is all that I am obliged to prove--the other books may not even be thought of" (p. 40). Dr. Payne was a very subtle dialectician, but we fear he has here imposed upon himself in these illustrations. It is very true that when I determine to select book "A" from my library, that book "B" may not have been before my mind, and that I did not knowingly determine to reject it. But it may have been, and if it was, then the selection of "A" only, carried with it the rejection of "B." A father sees his two children perishing in the waters. He jumps into a boat, and reaches the scene of disaster. The children are sinking from sheer exhaustion. He takes one into the boat, and returns to shore. He could easily have saved the other, but did not, and he tells the people this on landing, and that he must be simply judged by his act of saving the rescued child, and that he is not to be held as passing a decree of reprobation against the other. This, we submit, is Dr. Payne's case. And will it bear looking at? I don't think it. Dr. Payne adds, "This reasoning applies yet with greater force to the great Eternal. There must exist in the mind of God a determination to do what He actually does, because His actions are the result of His volitions or determinations. But where God does not act, where He does nothing, He determines nothing. It is childish to suppose that because when He acts, there must be a determination to act, when he does not act, there must be a determination not to act, since a determination is necessary to a state of action, but it surely is not necessary to a state of rest. When Jehovah created the present universe, is it necessary to suppose that there existed in His mind a positive determination not to create any of the other possible universes which were present to His views? Surely not." But we should say, Surely yes. If twenty plans are presented to me, and I select one only, does not this imply the rejection of the others? To the Divine mind there must have been present the conception of many different kinds of worlds than the one we are in; but of the possibles He chose the present system as, all things considered, the best. Had there been a better world and God did not make it, it must have been, according to the optimists, either because God did not know of it, or was unable to make it, or was unwilling,--all of which suppositions are either incompatible with the omniscience, the omnipotence, or the goodness of God. When the Creator selected the present system, He rejected the "possibles" that might have been brought into being. I am surprised that Dr. Payne should say that "determination" is not necessary to a state of rest, or non-action. In thousands of instances non-action--rest--is as much the result of volition as is the most determined activity. The old divines used to divide sin into acts of commission and omission. But in every sin of omission there was action implied. If I do not help the needy when he crieth, my non-help--my rest as regards aid--carries action in it --determination. Dr. Payne again says, "When God determined to save man, did that volition necessarily imply a positive determination not to save the angels who kept not their first estate? No one, it is presumed, Will answer in the affirmative. It implies, indeed, that fallen angels were not included in the merciful purpose of God, that there was no volition to save them; but no degree of ingenuity can gather any conclusion beyond this from the facts of the case. Why, then, should a positive determination, on the part of God, to save some of the human family be supposed to imply of necessity a counter and positive determination not to save the other members of the family. Not to save men is not to act, it is just doing nothing." But this is a very partial view of the case. What God did in the case of the fallen angels we know nothing, and can affirm nothing. But one may do nothing from one side of things, and do a great deal from another. The priest and the Levite just did nothing as far as helping the man was concerned. They rested, but in this rest there was action which has covered them with obloquy for all time. And if God has special influence at His disposal, and determines to give it to some when He KNEW that others needed it as much, and yet withholds it from them, His withholding it is as much an act as the gift of it. He passed the non-elect over in applying the influence, and no ingenuity can make it otherwise. But what He does in time He determined to do in eternity--He determined to pass them over. The illustration, therefore, of the book is worthless. CHAPTER III. CALVINISTIC ELECTION CONSIDERED IN REFERENCE TO THE SOVEREIGNTY OF GOD. THE Divine sovereignty may be said to be the great foundation on which the various shades of Calvinists take their stand. Here they think they are as safe as if they stood on adamant. But assertion is not argument, and he who asserts must prove. Dr. Payne, in his preliminary lecture, discusses the question of sovereignty, and endeavours to show that there is a difference between supremacy and sovereignty. By the former punishment is inflicted, by the latter good. If by sovereingty we mean that God has absolute power to do whatsoever He pleases, then it will comprehend the penalty of transgression, as well as the bestowment of good. And this, as we apprehend, is the correct view of the case. The Divine sovereignty being one of the main pillars of his system, Dr. Payne gives various illustrations of it. (1.) He instances the varied mental powers bestowed on men. He says, "The mind of one man is marked by infantile weakness, of another by a giant's strength. Nothing can elevate the former, nothing permanently depress and overpower the latter. . . . In the case of certain persons, the reasoning powers preponderate; in that of others, the imagination. One man has little judgment, but an exuberant fancy. Another has received the gift of a piercing intellect; but if it be clear as a frosty night, it is also as cold. A third is all impetuosity and fire, but it is a fire that scorches and consumes everything that comes in its way. We can account for these diversities by the principle of sovereignty alone. God 'divideth to every man severally as He will,' 'He giveth none account of these matters,' 'He has a right to do what He will with His own.'" Now, we do not question God's right to do what He will with His own, but is this difference in mental calibre purely an arbitrary act? Has brain, nerve, habit, nothing to do with the case? and marriage? and education? Look at the biographies of prominent men, and what do we find? Much depends evidently on the mother, as in the case of Bacon, Erskine, Brougham, Cromwell, Canning, Byron. The last-mentioned, writing of himself, says, that his "springs of life were poisoned." His mother was a most passionate woman, and is reported to have died of a fit of ill-nature at the sight of her upholsterer's bills. The possession, then, of talent is not purely arbitrary, but dependent on parentage, training, surroundings. There was one question, indeed, which would have upset the whole of these illustrations. It was this:--Whence comes insanity? It would never be contended that God made some individuals insane and others sane, by a merely arbitrary act. We find, in hundreds of instances, that it is hereditary. One observer considers that six-sevenths of the cases arise from this one cause. When, then, Dr. Payne quotes the words, "He giveth none account of these things," we ask, is it so? Has He not written His mind in the providence around us? Let certain habits be encouraged, certain marriages entered into, and we require no ghost to rise and tell us what the issue will be. God is telling it to us every day. Departure on the part of parents from organic laws entails misery, even to imbecility, on the children. We do not, of course, deny that there are diversities among men; but we do deny that these are purely arbitrary, like the gift of special grace, and are therefore inept as illustrative of it. (2.) Dr. Payne refers to providential blessing as illustrative of sovereignty. He remarks, "That inequalities in the external condition and circumstances exist, is manifest to all. The questions, then, which force themselves upon our attention are these: Do these inequalities originate with God, or with man?" He asks, "Why one is born rich, and another poor? How is it to be explained that two persons equal in talent and moral worth, obtain such unequal measure of success? . . . The facts are entirely to be resolved into Divine sovereignty. God is here exercising the right of testimony, the bounties of His providence upon men, as it seems good in His sight." It is very true that God is the source of all the good in the world, but does He bestow it arbitrarily? If a man neglects being _thrifty_, and lives beyond his means, his offspring will inherit his poverty. There are economic as well as physical laws in the world, and the non-observance of them descends unto the third and fourth generations. Dr. Payne appeals to health as illustrating his position. He says, "It is impossible to account for the fact that of two individuals equal in point of moral worth, one is the constant subject of bodily infirmity, and the other the habitual possessor of health; but by admitting that the hand of sovereignty confers upon the latter a measure of good to which he has no claim" (p. 32). Doubtless, health is a precious blessing; but is it given arbitrarily, like special grace? Every one knows that its possession depends upon the observance of laws, both in parents and offspring. It is the result of complying with _conditions_, and there is no analogy between it and the gift of special influence, which is entirely unconditional. The chief illustration which Dr. Payne gives of Divine sovereignty is, "The exertion of that holy influence upon the minds of the chosen to salvation, by which they are brought to the knowledge and belief of the Gospel, together with the Divine purpose to exert this influence of which it is at once the index and the accomplishment" (p. 33). We shall, however, endeavour to show that there is no such irresistible influence as that for which the doctor contends. God is a sovereign--the only absolute sovereign in existence; but He is all-wise and all-good, not willing that any should perish. We have thus examined those illustrations of Dr. Payne. They are a kind of stock in trade of those who build their faith upon the dogmas of Calvin. CHAPTER IV. CALVINISTIC ELECTION JUDGED BY THE REASON. THE reason is supposed to affirm the doctrine that God has chosen some men to get saving grace, and some men only. The question is asked, "Is God the cause or author of man's salvation, or is man the author of his own salvation?" It is maintained that God being entirely the author of man's salvation, and that as man is brought into a state of safety by infallible grace, and as God exercises this grace, He must have determined to do it in eternity. The doctrine of election is thus supposed to be affirmed by the reason. But this is a very summary process of settling the question. How stands the case? If by "salvation" is meant the _meritorious ground_ of salvation, then the question about its authorship is very single. God is the sole author. He devised the plan, He wrought it out, and He applies it to the hearts of men. To Him belongs all the glory. But the question of merit being settled, there is another. It is this--Are there _immeritorious_ grounds of salvation, and are men required to be active in their moral regeneration? We must distinguish between God's action and that of man. To confound them is a grand mistake. In the Bible we find certain moral conditions insisted upon in order to moral deliverance. There is a human side in the matter. Are not men called upon "to look?" "to hear?" "to come?" "to eat?" "to repent?" "to choose?" these terms represent acts which men are called upon to perform. God does not "look" or "choose" or "repent" for men. They must "choose" or die. The Spirit comes to them, points out their sinful state, and places Christ before them as their Saviour. When they give ear unto him, and put their trust in Jesus, they become saved. They have no more merit in the matter than a beggar has when he accepts alms, or a prisoner when he accepts a pardon. Salvation, then, as regards merit, is entirely of God, but men are required to be active in their own deliverance. But why do some yield, and some not? This question has often been asked, and it is supposed that it stops all further argument. Let us look, however, at the saved man. God has wrought out the remedy, the Holy Spirit plies the sinner with motives for accepting the Saviour, and under His persuasion he yields himself up unto God, and gives Him all the glory of His salvation. Both scripturally and philosophically the man's saved condition is accounted for. And can anything be said against it? Look now at the unsaved man: why has he not believed? To press for an answer to this question is just to press for an answer to another--viz., why do men sin? Can any one give a reason for it that will stand scrutiny? No one, not even God; and to demand an answer in these circumstances is unphilosophical and impertinent. The one believes through grace, and the other resists and dies. We submit that this is a fair explanation of the case. The believer acts in harmony with the reason, the unbeliever is guilty of sin; and no reason can be given for sin. The view thus advocated has been held as a denial of the Spirit's work. If by the Spirit's work is understood a faith-necessitating and will-overpowering work, then certainly the Spirit's work is thus denied. But this is to cut before the point. There are, for instance, different views of inspiration, as the inspiration of direction, superintendency, elevation, and suggestion. Suppose I were asked what theory of inspiration I held regarding any portion of the Bible, and I answered that I had none, but took the Scriptures as God's message to men, would it be fair argument to assert that I denied inspiration? Manifestly not. But neither is it fair to raise the cry that the Spirit's work is denied because a particular theory regarding that work is denied, the theory, namely, which makes it to be physical or mechanical. Incorrect views of the Spirit's work have been entertained by theologians in consequence of erroneous conceptions regarding the degeneracy of human nature. Augustine held that man can do nothing which will at all contribute to His spiritual recovery. He is like a lump of clay, or a statue without life or activity. In consequence of these views, he held that grace in its operation on the heart was irresistible,--sometimes through the word, at other times without it. Dr. Knapp says, "God does not act in such a way as to infringe upon the free will of man, or to interfere with the use of his powers" (Phil. ii. 12, 13). Consequently, God does not act on men immediately, producing ideas in their souls without the preaching or reading of the scriptures, or influencing their will in any other way than by the understanding. Did God act in any other way than through the understanding, he would operate miraculously and irresistibly, and the practice of virtue under such an influence would have no intrinsic worth; it would be compelled, and consequently incapable of reward (_Theo_., p. 408). He says again, "The doctrine of the Protestant church has always been that God does not act immediately on the heart in conversion, or, in other words, that He does not produce ideas in the understanding, and effects in the will, by His absolute Divine power without the employment of external means. This would be such an immediate conversion and illumination as fanatics contend for, who regard their own imaginations and thoughts as effects of the Spirit" (p. 400). If our creed on this subject is to be based on the Bible, it leaves us in no doubt upon the matter. In speaking of the new birth it is written, "Of His own will begat He us by the word of truth, that we should be a kind of firstfruits of His creatures" (Jas. i. 18). Here the truth is used as the medium in conversion, and not a syllable about irresistible influence. The apostle Peter states the same thing: "Being born again, not of corruptible seed, but of incorruptible, by the word of God, which liveth and abideth for ever" (1 Peter i. 23). Our Lord, in explaining the parable of the sower said--"The seed is the word of God," and seed, in order to germination, must have an appropriate soil. CALVINISTIC ELECTION UNCONDITIONAL:--The followers of Calvin, however they differ among themselves regarding certain standpoints, agree in this, that evangelical election is unconditional. The Confession of Faith declares that election is "without any foresight of faith or good works or perseverance in either of them, or any other thing in the creature as conditions or causes moving Him (God) thereunto" (_Confess_., Chap. III.) Dr. Payne says of the elect, "They were not chosen to salvation on account of their foreseen repentance, and faith, and obedience, for faith and repentance are the fruit, not the root of predestination" (p. 47.) And again, "The electing decree, which is unconditional" (p. 38). The Bible has been appealed to as supporting this view, that election is eternal and unconditional, and we shall consider certain of the passages thus appealed to. CHAPTER V. BIBLE TEXTS IN PROOF OF CALVINISTIC ELECTION CONSIDERED. IN Matthew xx. 16 it is written: "For many are called, but few are chosen." These words occur at the conclusion of the parable of the marriage of the king's son. A great feast had been provided and parties invited. A second invitation was sent out, in harmony with oriental usage; but those first invited made excuses, and refused to come. The servants were then commissioned to go out and give an invitation to all and sundry, and the wedding was furnished with guests. When the king came in to see the guests, he found a man without a wedding garment, and asked him how he had come in not having on one. The man remained speechless. It is then added, "many are called, but few are chosen." Now, the election which Calvinists contend for is eternal and unconditional. Does the above passage prove this? We think it proves the reverse. There was a rejection and a choosing, but each was based on state or personal condition. The man was rejected because he had not on the wedding garment; the others were chosen because they had it on. Suppose that there was no robe for the man, would he or should he have been speechless? Might he not have risen up in the midst of the assembly, and said, "Sire, I received the invitation in the highway. I was pressed to come to the feast. When I came there was no robe for me, and even if there had been one, there was no one to help me to put it on; and by a fatal accident in childhood I lost an arm, and was unable to do it myself. Yet I received the invitation, and that is the reason why I am here." Would not such a speech have been perfectly satisfactory? And where the justice of condemning the man to be cast, in these circumstance, into outer darkness? But the punishment meted out to the man, showed that there was a robe for him, and that he might have put it on. The choice, therefore, of sitting at the marriage feast was conditional, and not, as Calvinists contend, unconditional. The choice, moreover, was after the calling, and is _yet_ to take place, and as a consequence the passage does not prove that election is eternal. No doubt, whatever God does in time He purposed to do in eternity, but we should distinguish between a purpose to choose and the choice itself. There is nothing, then, in this passage to perplex any one. God, the infinite Father and heavenly King, has provided a feast of love for all men, and therefore for you, O reader, whosoever you are. Christ has wrought out a robe of righteousness for all, and therefore for you. The Holy Spirit prays you to be clothed with it--that is, to depend on Christ and Christ only, and not upon your doings or upon your feelings. When you cease to depend on self and to rest entirely on Jesus, there springs up in the heart an aspiration to be Christ -like, and to be wholly His. By being clothed with Christ's righteousness you will have, by God's grace, a title to sit down at the heavenly feast, and a moral meetness for heavenly society. THE ELECT FOREKNOWN.--In Romans viii. 29, 30, it is written: "For whom He did foreknow, He also did predestinate to be conformed to the image of His Son, that He might be the first-born among many brethren. Moreover, whom He did predestinate, them He also called; and whom He called, them He also justified; and whom He justified, them He also glorified." This passage is one of the strongholds of the view we contend against; but if it prove eternal election, it will also prove much more than this. If the persons spoken of were eternally elected, then they were also eternally called, and eternally justified, and eternally glorified. They would thus be justified before they sinned, and glorified before they had a being. The verbs are all in the aorist tense, and what is true of one verb is true of all the others. An interpretation burdened with such consequences cannot be true. Dr. Payne has very few remarks on the passage, but they are emphatic enough. "The passage is so conclusive," he says, "that it scarcely seems to require or even to admit of many remarks," and he does not give many. The simple question is this: does this passage prove unconditional election? Is there anything in the context to prove the reverse? We think that there is. In the twenty-eighth verse the apostle says, "And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them that are the called according to His purpose." He is thus writing of a certain class of persons, or of persons in a certain moral state, that moral state being that they were lovers of God, as he expressly states in verse 28. He does not say that they were visited by a special and irresistible influence bestowed on them and withheld from others. He simply asserts that those lovers of God had all things working for their good; that they were called or invited to glory, as (in 1 Peter v. 10) it is said, "But the God of all grace, who hath called us unto His eternal glory by Christ Jesus." And having intimated their call, Paul goes on to show what was the destiny awaiting the believer. He says, "For whom He did foreknow," and when he said this he could not mean the mere knowledge of entities, or of persons, for this reason, that God knows the finally lost as well as the finally saved. The apostle therefore could only mean that God, knowing beforehand those who would love him, fore-appointed or decreed in eternity that those who possessed this moral state should be conformed to the image of His Son, or personal appearance of Christ (1 John iii. 2). Those lovers of God thus predestinated are invited to heavenly bliss, and will be ultimately justified before the world, and glorified. The twenty -eighth verse, then, lays down the condition upon which the whole passage rests; and to bring forward the text as a proof of unconditional election, is simply to ignore the context. As far as this portion of the Bible is concerned, there is nothing to perplex the most simple. Become a lover of God, and the destiny sketched by the apostle awaits you. We become lovers of God by believing in His love to us. "We love Him," says John, "because He first loved us" (1 John iv. 19). THE UNBORN CHILDREN.--Romans ix. 11, is appealed to. It reads thus: "For the children being not yet born, neither having done any good or evil, that the purpose of God according to election might stand, not of works, but of Him who calleth." This verse is parenthetical, lying between the tenth and twelfth verses. They read thus, verse 10: "And not only this, but when Rebecca also had conceived by one, even by our father Isaac;" verse 12: "It was said unto her, the elder shall serve the younger." It is the eleventh verse which is taken as proving Calvinistic election. It is supposed to refer to the spiritual and eternal condition of the respective parties. But how stands the case? The original statement is found in Genesis xxv. 22, 23: "Two nations are in thy womb, and two manner of people shall be separated from thy bowels; and the one people shall be stronger than the other people; and the elder shall serve the younger." Now, if we take the passage in the Calvinistic sense, that it refers to salvation, what will follow? This, namely, that all the descendants of Jacob would be saved, and all the descendants of Esau utterly lost. If this were so, then why should Paul have been so troubled about the spiritual state of his countrymen, as he says he was, in the preamble of this very chapter? The hypothesis, makes the apostle to stultify himself as a logician. The Calvinistic interpretation will not stand looking at, there being, in fact, no reference to salvation in the passage. The apostle quotes the text, the purport of which is that in a certain respect the people of Esau would be inferior to the people of Jacob. The Jews held that, being Abraham's seed, they were safe for eternity. The apostle's argument, then, is this: The people of Esau were as truly descended from Abraham as you, my countrymen, are, and yet this descent did not entitle them to be the Messianic people; and if mere descent did not entitle to this, how much less would it entitle to heavenly glory? The text, then, has really no bearing upon evangelical election, but simply to the election of the Jews to theocratic privileges. CHOSEN BEFORE THE FOUNDATION OF THE WORLD.--Ephesians i. 4, is appealed to. It reads thus: "According as He hath chosen us in Him before the foundation of the world, that we should be holy and without blame before Him in love." This is an old favourite text in support of eternal and unconditional election. But does it prove it? Those Christians to whom Paul wrote were chosen before the foundation of the world. True, but what does this mean? Does it prove eternal election? To elect is to "pick out," "to select." But the parties spoken of could not be _actually_ elected or chosen before they existed. Before you can take a pebble from an urn, it must first be in the urn. So before man can be _actually picked_ out of the world, he must _first_ be in it: hence election must be a work of time. Paul speaks of his kinsmen who were in Christ before him (Rom. xvi. 7); but if election is eternal, then the one could not be in Christ before the other. The language then in Eph. i. 14, can only refer to the _purpose_ of God to select certain persons in time--BELIEVERS--to be "holy and without blame." The bearing of the passage, then, is the same as many others, and is simply this, that whatever God does in time, He determined to do in eternity. His purpose was formed before the foundation of the world, or in eternity. Neither is there any countenance given to the idea that the election was _unconditional_. This is clearly shown by the words "IN HIM." The Catechism asks the question, "Did God leave all mankind to perish in the estate of sin and misery?" and the answer is, "God having out of His mere good pleasure from all eternity elected some to everlasting life, did enter into a covenant of grace to deliver them out of the estate of sin and misery, and to bring them into a state of salvation by a Redeemer." If this is a true version of the case, then the saved were elected first when they were _out of_ Christ. But the passage in Ephesians says the reverse of this. They were elected being IN CHRIST. To be in Christ is just to be united to Him by faith--a believer in Christ as the great High Priest of humanity. CHOSEN TO SALVATION.--2 Thess. ii. 13, is appealed to. It reads thus: "But we are bound to give thanks alway to God for you, brethren beloved of the Lord, because God hath from the beginning chosen you to salvation through sanctification of the Spirit and belief of the truth." The question then is, does this passage prove eternal and unconditional election? As to its being eternal, the only portion of the verse that bears on this is the phrase "from the beginning." Barnes says the words mean "from eternity." But the words themselves do not prove this. When the Jews asked Jesus who He was, He answered, "Even the same that I said unto you from the beginning." It clearly does not mean "eternity" here. Again, in 1 John ii. 7, it is written: "The old commandment is the word which ye have heard from the beginning." Here, also, it is evident that the words cannot mean from "eternity," since they did not exist in eternity. But supposing the words did refer to eternity, then their meaning could only denote the purpose of God, since they had in eternity no real existence. We take the words to signify the commencement of the Christian cause in Thessalonica. Whedon's paraphrase is: "From the first founding of the Thessalonian church." Watson takes them to denote, "The very first reception of the Gospel in Thessalonica." Whatever view is taken of the words, the idea of an _actual_ eternal election is excluded. Dr. Payne depends upon the verse as supporting his view of unconditional election. In concluding his criticism of the passage he says, "The election, then, here spoken of is not an election of future glory founded on foreseen faith and obedience; but an election to faith and obedience as necessary pre-requisites to the enjoyment of this glory, or perhaps, more correctly speaking, as partly constituting it" (pp. 84, 85.) Unfortunately for this argument the apostle uses the word "_through_" (en), not "_to_" (eis). He says that they were chosen to salvation or glory through sanctification of the Spirit on God's part and belief of the truth on theirs; or, in other words, he contemplates the Christians at Thessalonica as objects of future glory, and they had come to occupy this position by God's gracious Spirit dealing with them through the truth, and by their believing the truth thus brought to them. The passage shows the means by which they had become chosen or elected persons. They believed the TRUTH, and you may do the same. ELECTION AND FOREKNOWLEDGE.--1 Peter i. 1, is appealed to in support of Calvinistic election. It reads thus: "Elect according to the foreknowledge of God the Father, through sanctification of the Spirit, unto obedience and sprinkling of the blood of Jesus Christ." But this cannot prove that the election spoken of was eternal, because the Spirit's work takes place in time, and not in eternity. Neither does it prove that it was unconditional. It is through the Spirit that men are convicted of sin, and led by His gracious influences to trust in Jesus. The epistle was written to believers, to those who had been "born again" (1 Peter i. 23), and he says that they were elected, choice ones, according to God's foreknowledge, who knew from eternity that they would believe under His grace; and they were, being believers, chosen unto obedience, and also to a justified state, or "the sprinkling of the blood of Jesus." To contend that if a man believes under what is termed "common grace," this is to make himself to "differ," and to take the praise of salvation to himself, is in our opinion entirely wrong. Does the patient who takes the medicine under the persuasion of a kind physician, and is cured, have whereof to boast? Because the blind beggar takes an alms, has he whereof to glory? Neither do we see that a poor guilty sinner has any reason for boasting when, under the persuasion of the Divine Spirit, he accepts a full pardon of all his sins. Were a prisoner who has been condemned to be visited by the sovereign, and a pardon put into his hands, to go afterwards through the streets shouting, "I have saved myself--I have saved myself," we should say the man was crazed. Why will not theologians look at things from a commonsense point of view? There is nothing in the passage to prevent you at once entering among the elect. MAKING ELECTION SURE.--In 2 Peter i. 10, it is written thus: "Wherefore the rather, brethren, give diligence to make your calling and election sure: for if ye do these things, ye shall never fall." But the passage says nothing about the _time_ when they were elected, nor whether they were elected to get a peculiar influence to necessitate faith. It implies the negative of the Calvinistic opinion. The Christians were exhorted to make their election sure. But if they were elected by an infallible decree, how could they make it sure? It was, by the theory, sure, independent of them. The exhortation shows that Peter did not know anything of the dogma, and that he held that men had to do with watching over their spiritual life, so that their calling to glory and their election might not fail. A REMNANT ACCORDING TO ELECTION.--In Romans xi. 5, it is written thus: "Even so at the present time there is a remnant according to the election of grace." It is true that the words "election" and "grace" occur in this passage; but the simple question is, what is their meaning? The apostle had asked, in the first verse, "Hath God cast off His people?" And he repudiates the idea, and refers to the state of matters in the time of Elijah. The prophet had thought that he was the solitary worshipper of God; but in this he was mistaken. Seven thousand men were yet true to the Lord, and had not bowed the knee to Baal. So at the time the apostle wrote there was a few, a "remnant" of the nation who had believed through grace, and were chosen, elected, to receive the blessings of pardon and the indwelling of the Holy Spirit. God had not, therefore, cast off His people, since He was saving all of them who believed. In the exercise of His sovereign wisdom He has made, however, _faith_ to be the condition of salvation both for Jew and Gentile. And there is nothing arbitrary in this. In our everyday life we are required to exercise, and are constantly exercising, faith. If we wish to cross the Atlantic, we must exercise faith in regard to the seaworthiness of the ship. We marry, lend money, take medicine, and a thousand other things, upon the principle of faith. We will not allow a man into our family circle who holds us to be liars. Should he take that position we exclude him from friendly fellowship. If he would get good from us in a certain sphere of things, faith in us is absolutely requisite. It is the same with God. If we would be blessed with the sweet peace of pardon, we can only have it by believing in the testimony that God has given regarding the Son, that He tasted death for every man--died, therefore, for us. The passages of Scripture we have thus considered are those mainly depended on in support of the Calvinistic doctrine of election. The doctrine, like the chameleon, has different shades, according to the school. The high predestinarians, or, as they are called, "_supra -lapsarians_," maintain, as we have seen, that God created a certain number to be saved, and a certain number to be lost. The _infra_- or _sublap_-_sarians_, maintain that God contemplated the race as fallen, and determined to save a given number, and a given number only, and to reprobate a given number. Regarding the former a Saviour has been provided for them and irresistible grace. The modern Calvinists differ, as we have also seen, from both of these schools, and hold that God loves all, and has provided a Saviour for all, but that converting grace is given only to some. There is a consistency, a grim consistency, in the two former views; but the latter limps, it divides the Trinity. It makes God's love to be world-wide, Christ's death to be for all, but the gracious or converting work of the Spirit is limited. But however these systems differ from each other, they all agree in this, that God is not earnestly desirous of saving all men. And this, as we hold, is the damning fact against them all. There are certain specific objections, however, to which we now beg attention. CHAPTER VI. OBJECTIONS TO THE CALVINISTIC DOCTRINE OF ELECTION. (1.) WE object, in the _first_ place, to the Calvinistic doctrine of election, because it is absurd to call it election. The advocates of the three views of election mentioned stoutly maintain that the persons chosen are chosen unconditionally; in other words, they are chosen not on account of any mental or moral quality in them. It is on this account designated _unconditional_. There is nothing whatever in the persons chosen on which to ground the choice. Supposing this to be the case, can there be any choice, election? Mr. Robinson has put the case thus: "What is election? Is it possible to choose one of two things, excepting for reasons to be found in the things themselves? Ask a friend which of a number of oranges he will take. If he sees nothing in them to determine selection, he says, 'I have no choice.' Ask a blind man which of two oranges, that are out of his reach, he prefers, and you mock him by proposing an impossibility. If they are put near him, that he may feel them or smell them, or if by any other means he can judge between them, he can choose, otherwise he cannot choose. If they lie far from him, he may say, 'Give me the one that lies to the east, or the west;' but that is a lottery, an accident, chance, certainly no choice. Therefore, to assert that the cause of election is not in anything in the person chosen, is really to deny that there is any election. And it is a curious fact that the most vehement predestinarians, while they flatter themselves that they are the honoured advocates of the Divine decrees, by sequence set aside election altogether. Their hypothesis annihilates the very doctrine for which they are most zealous, and, if it may be said without irreverence, introduces the dice box into the counsels of heaven" (_Bible Studies_, p. 192). If we look into life, we always find that when we elect or choose, we do so because of something in the person or thing elected. It is so as regards food, drink, dress, houses, pictures, statues, books; it is so, too, as regards members of Parliament, ministers for pastorates, and in marriage. We are, indeed, so constituted that we cannot conceive of choice or election except upon the grounds of freedom in the elector, and something to differentiate the object chosen from others of like nature. The Confession of Faith says, however, that those who are predestinated unto life are chosen "without any foresight of faith or good works, or perseverance in either of them, or any other thing in the creation, as conditions or causes moving Him thereunto, and all to the praise of His glorious grace" (_Con_., chap. iii.) Yet the Bible says expressly, "But know that the Lord hath set apart him that is godly for himself" (Ps. iv. 3); "Hath not God chosen the poor in this world rich in faith?" (Jas. ii. 5.) There is a setting apart, or choosing, but it is not unconditional, as these verses show. No doubt, the _motive_ of those who hold unconditional election is good, arising from a desire to give all the glory of salvation to God, and from the frequency of the term "grace" in regard to our deliverance. But the great object of giving all the glory to God may be, and is accomplished, without doing violence to Scripture, or trampling upon common sense. The principle or system of Syenergism does this. It simply means that man is active in his own conversion. It was advocated in his later years by Melancthon. We have not, however, to do with the _motive_ of our friends, but with the philosophy of the subject; and to assert that men are chosen to salvation apart from condition, is only assertion, and an absurd assertion, too. Try it in regard to anything, and its folly will be apparent. Why, then, insist upon it in religion? Are we to throw reason to the dogs when we speak on scriptural subjects? (2.) In the _second_ place, we object to the Calvinistic theory of election, because it ignores and tramples upon a primary principle of philosophy. The principle is this: "That a plurality of principles are not to be assumed when the phenomena can possibly be explained by one" (Hamilton's _Reid_, p. 751). It is what is known as the law of parsimony. The three views of election referred to have bound up with them, as an integral portion of the system, the theory of _irresistible_ grace. Take this away, and they fall to pieces as a rope of sand. A man who has hitherto lived an ungodly life becomes converted, and the question arises --how are we to account for this moral phenomenon? Our friends from whom we differ account for it in this way: In the past eternity God saw that the man would come upon the stage of time, and determined to visit his soul with an irresistible influence, under the operation of which he became converted. Now this is to them a very satisfactory way of accounting for the conversion. But may not this change in the man take place without this _tertiam quid_, or third something? If it may, then to import it into the controversy is to violate the law of parsimony or maxim of philosophy, that it is wrong to multiply causes beyond what are necessary. But let us look at life: let us enter the sphere of human experience. We find men, for instance, who in politics were at one period pronounced Radicals, like Burdett, becoming Conservative in their opinions; and men, like the Peelites, changing from the Conservative side to that of the Liberals. In accounting for this we do not call in a mysterious and occult influence to solve the matter. It is explainable without this. Take the case of medicine. We find men educated in the allopathic system changing, and becoming disciples of Habnemann. Ask them how it came about, and they answer at once, that it was by considering the results. Take a case of intemperance, An old inebriate attends a temperance lecture, listens attentively, becomes persuaded of the value of abstinence, signs the pledge, and spends the remainder of his life a sober man. He loved the drink, and now he hates it. Ask him how it came about? He tells you at once that the facts and arguments of the lecture convinced him of the evil of the drink, and led him to abandon it for ever. A great change has been effected, but in perfect harmony with the known laws of mind. Let us now look at religion. Paul arrives at Corinth, and preaches the Gospel to the inhabitants of that degenerate city. They listened to the wondrous story of redeeming love, and became changed through means of it. Was there anything in the nature of the truth preached to them and believed by them fitted to do this? We think that there was. They had sins--were guilty. Paul told them of a Saviour who died for them. This met their case. They were degraded, foul; the religion Paul preached appealed to their sense of right, to their gratitude, to their fears and their hopes; and believing it, they became regenerated in their moral nature. They had been won to God by the "Gospel" (1 Cor. iv. 15). As temperance truth revolutionises the drunkard, so does Gospel truth the sinner (1 Peter i. 23, 25). The apostle was the agent employed by the Holy Spirit, and believing the message he brought, they were believing the Spirit (See 1 Samuel viii. 7). Since, then, the truth believed is a sufficient reason for the change, why introduce the theory of irresistible grace? It may be replied that this kind of grace is used to get the sinner to attend to the message. But attention to any subject is brought about by considering motives. Man has the power over his attention. It is the possession of this power which is a main item in constituting him a responsible being. He may or may not attend to the voice of God. If he attends to it he lives; if not, he dies. If God used force in this matter, why reason with men and appeal to them as He does? We appeal to Christian consciousness. Let any Christian give a reason of the hope that is in him--and it is all perfectly reasonable. All through, in the great matter of conversion, he acted freely. He attended to the Divine message--but there was no compulsion. Why, then, insist upon irresistibility when it is repudiated by Christian consciousness? We know no reason for it but the exigencies of the system. If you are waiting for it you are being deceived. (3.) We object, in the _third_ place, to the Calvinistic view of election, because it makes God a respecter of persons. What is it to be a respecter of persons? Literally, it means "an accepter of faces." According to the _Imperial Dictionary_, it signifies "a person who regards the external circumstances of others in his judgment, and suffers his opinion to be biased by them, to the prejudice of candour, justice, and equity." It is to act with partiality. It is of the utmost moment that respect of persons should not be shown in the domestic circle, on the bench; or in the church. If a father shows favouritism to one son less worthy, say, than the others, he lays himself open to the charge of partiality, unevenness in his procedure, and it tends to alienate the affections of his other children. To show it on the bench is to sully the ermine, and bring the administration of justice into disrepute. Whoever else may exhibit it, the church is required to have clean hands in the matter (James ii.) We are so constituted that we cannot love or hate by a mere fiat of the will. Before we can love one another with complacency, there must be the perception of excellence. And it is the same as regards God. Hence it is of the last importance that to our mental view He should be pure, holy, impartial, good. To love Him if we thought Him otherwise, would be impossible. Now God has abundantly shown, both in providence and in the Bible, that He is not a respecter of persons. He executes His laws indiscriminately--upon all alike. Fire burns, poison kills, water drowns all and sundry. If the laws of health are broken, the penalty is enforced on each transgressor according to the measure of his transgression. It is the same with moral penalties. If a man lies, or steals, or is mean, or selfish, he will suffer moral deterioration, which will pass through his moral being as a leprosy. Our physical, mental, and moral natures are thus under their respective laws, and whosoever breaks these laws God executes the penalty on the transgressor. There is in this respect no favouritism--no respect of persons. There are, as a matter of course, diversities upon earth. All cannot occupy the same place. We have not the brilliancy and luxuriancy of the tropics, but we have our compensations. And it is the same with life in general. In comparison with the rich the poor have a rough road to travel, but they are not without their compensations. The moral life is the higher life of man, and in the stern school of adversity there are developed noble traits of character. "Though losses and crosses Be lessons right severe, There's wit there you'll get there, You'll find no other where." The diversities we find in life are not arbitrary acts, as we have already seen, but dependent upon adherence or non-adherence to law. The same great principle that regulates the providential government of God, is brought clearly out in the Scriptures. It is remarked by Cruden that "God appointed that the judges should pronounce their sentences without any respect of persons (Lev. xix. 15; Deut i. 17); that they should consider neither the poor nor the rich, nor the weak nor the powerful, but only attend to truth and justice, and give sentence according to the merits of the cause." It is said in Proverbs that it is not good to have respect of persons in judgment (Prov. xxiv. 23). Peter declared that there is no respect of persons with God; and Paul said, "For there is no respect of persons with God" (Romans ii. 11). James declared that if the Christians to whom he wrote showed respect of persons they committed sin (James ii. 9). The Bible is thus exceedingly careful to guard the Divine character from the charge of partiality. And obviously so. Let but the idea be entertained in the mind for a moment, and it leaves a slime behind it as if a serpent had passed through the corridor of our dwelling. The simple question then is, Does this doctrine of Calvinistic election exhibit God as a respecter of persons? It clearly does so. According to it, God, irrespective of any conditions in the creature, appoints a certain number to be saved and leaves the rest to perish. And is not this partiality? Is not this favouritism? Since the doctrine thus reflects on the Divine character, it deserves condemnation. (4.) In the _fourth_ place, we object to the Calvinistic doctrine of election, _because it is opposed to the letter and spirit of many passages of the Bible_. We beg attention to a few. Consider the OATH OF GOD. "As I live, saith the Lord, I have no pleasure in the death of the wicked, but that the wicked turn from his way and live. Turn ye, turn ye, from your evil way, for why will ye die, O house of Israel?" (Ezek. xxxiii. 11). Would not any one reading these words naturally conclude that God really wished all the people to be saved? Have they not a ring of genuine sincerity about them? We cannot conceive that such a question would have been asked, viz., "Why will ye die?" had their death been inevitable. Not only was it not inevitable, but the earnest entreaty to return showed that God intensely desired their salvation. Yet, if Calvinism is true, the oath of God and His earnest entreaty, as far as millions of the human race are concerned, are simply as sounding brass and a tinkling cymbal. Nay, more, they are a solemn mockery. I see two men floundering in deep water; I jump into my boat and save one, and bring him safely to shore. I could easily have saved the other had I wished it, but did not. Were I then to stand on the bank of the river and ask the sinking man, Why will you die? what would be thought of me, or any man, who should act such a part? Such conduct would be cruel, cruel to any poor soul in its death-struggle. Yet this is exactly the part God is made to perform by the high Calvinists, and is endorsed by their more modern brethren. He could easily save every one if He wished it, they say: But this assertion cannot stand in the presence of God's oath and His earnest entreaty to turn and live. THE VINEYARD.--Let us look at the case of the vineyard, as recorded in Isaiah v. The house of Israel is there compared to a vineyard which God had planted. After detailing what had been done, the question is asked, "What could have been done more to my vineyard that I have not done in it? wherefore, when I looked that it should bring forth grapes, brought it forth wild grapes?" (verse 4). The moral condition of Israel was anything but good. God had looked for judgment, but there was oppression, and for righteousness, but behold a cry! Yet the question in this fourth verse carries the idea that He had done all that He wisely could, in the circumstances, to reform and save them. But they were not reformed, they were not saved. It might indeed be affirmed that this was because they had not been visited by "special influence," or converting grace. But if this kind of grace is the only kind that is fructifying, and was for sovereign reasons withheld, how could the question be asked, "What could have been done more to my vineyard that I have not done in it?" The one thing needful had _not_ been done, if this hypothesis is true, and in view of it the question could not have been put at all. But it was put, and this shows that God had done all that He wisely could do to save the people, and that He did not keep back the needed grace, for which Calvinists contend. CHRIST'S TEARS OVER JERUSALEM.--The tears of our Lord over the city of Jerusalem are a clear demonstration against the Calvinistic doctrine of election. It is said, "When He was come near, He beheld the city, and wept over it, saying, If thou hadst known, even thou, at least in this thy day, the things which belong unto thy peace! but now they are hid from thine eyes" (Luke xix. 41, 42). When a woman weeps it is not an infrequent phenomenon. Her nerves are more finely strung than man's, and a touching tale or sympathetic story brings the tears to her eyes and sobs from her lips. When men weep it indicates deep emotion; and when Christ looked upon the city, His soul was moved with compassion, and He wept. He knew what had been done for the guilty inhabitants--how God had borne with them--and the doom that, like the sword of Damocles, hung over them, and His tender heart found relief in tears. In the presence of this weeping Redeemer can we entertain the Calvinistic notion that He could easily have saved the people, _if He had only wished it_? He wished to gather them as a hen doth her chickens under her wings, but they would not come. Were there not another passage in the Bible than the one just referred to (Matthew xxiii. 37), it is sufficient to dispose of the theory that God uses irresistible grace in saving men. He had used the most powerful motives to bring them to himself, but they would not come. John Wesley, in writing on Predestination, says,--"Let it be observed that this doctrine represents our blessed Lord Jesus Christ, the righteous, the only-begotten Son of the Father, full of grace and truth, as an hypocrite, a deceiver of the people, a man void of common sincerity. For it cannot be denied that He everywhere speaks as if He was willing that all men should be saved. Therefore, to say that He was not willing that all men should be saved, is to represent Him as a mere hypocrite and dissembler. It cannot be denied that the gracious words which came out of His mouth are full of invitations to all sinners. To say, then, He did not intend to save all sinners, is to represent Him as a gross deceiver of the people. You cannot deny that He says, 'Come unto me all ye that are weary and heavy laden.' If, then, you say He calls those that cannot come, those whom He knows to be unable to come, those whom He can make able to come but will not; how is it possible to describe greater insincerity? You represent Him as mocking His helpless creatures, by offering what He never intends to give. You describe Him as saying one thing and meaning another, as pretending the love which He had not. Him in whose mouth was no guile, you make full of deceit, void of common sincerity; then, especially when drawing nigh the city He wept over it, and said, 'O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, thou that killest the prophets and stonest them that are sent unto thee, how often would I have gathered thy children together, and ye would not.' Now, if ye say they would but He would not, you represent Him (which who could hear) as weeping crocodile's tears; weeping over the prey which himself had doomed to destruction" (Ser. 128). Consider the _last commission_ of Christ. Before our Lord left the world He said to His apostles, "Go ye into all the world, and preach the Gospel to every creature." Good news was thus to be proclaimed to every human being. If the commission meant anything it meant this, that God was honestly and earnestly desirous of saving every one. And this is in beautiful harmony with the exhortation in Isaiah: "Look unto me and be ye saved, all the ends of the earth" (Isa. xlv. 22). It is also in keeping with the words of Jesus recorded by John: "For God so loved the world, that He gave His only-begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in Him should not perish, but have everlasting life" (John iii. 16); and with what the apostle Peter says, that "God is not willing that any should perish, but that all should come to repentance" (2 Peter iii. 9); and with what the apostle Paul says, that God "will have all men to be saved" (1 Tim. ii. 4). But whilst the commission to preach the good news is in harmony with these express statements, it is out of joint and incongruous with the Calvinistic doctrine of election, that God wishes only a few of the human family saved. Consider the HOLY SPIRIT'S INVITATION. In Revelation xxii. 17, it is written: "And the Spirit and the bride say, come. And let him that heareth say, come. And let him that is athirst come, and whosoever will let him take the water of life freely." Whilst we are so constituted that we cannot believe a proposition the terms of which we do not understand, and whilst there is much that is inscrutable in the Spirit's work, yet the passage just quoted clearly means, if it means anything, that the Holy Spirit invites all to come and drink of the life-giving water. We cannot doubt His sincerity. When all are invited to drink, it is implied that there is water for all, and that it is free to all, and that they have power to drink. We may not ask one to drink at an empty fountain without being guilty of the sheerest mockery; and neither may we ask the wounded and disabled man, who cannot walk a step, to come and drink, without being guilty of the same. This invitation of the Spirit, then, is inconsistent with the Calvinistic notion that His converting grace is limited. Says the late Dr. John Guthrie, "Was it antecedently to be supposed that a Divine Father who loves all, and so loved as to give His own and only-begotten for our ransom, and that the Divine Son, who as lovingly gave Himself, would send the Divine Spirit mediatorially to reveal and interpret both, who should not operate in the world on the same principle of impartiality and universality? What philosophy and theology thus dictate, Scripture confirms. Christ promised His disciples an interpreting and applying Spirit, who should convince the _world_. Prophets predicted, and Pentecost proved, that God was pouring out His Spirit on all flesh. These influences were, in their largest incidents, soul-saving; through being moral, they were resistible. Ye do always resist the Holy Ghost, said Stephen, and the Holy Ghost himself saith to-day, Oh that ye would hear His voice; which He would not do if faith came by another sort of influence which He only could give, and which He did not mean to give till _to-morrow_, or next year, or not at all! In that last and most gracious of Gospel invitations, which the incarnate Himself utters in Rev. xxii. 17, among other inviters, the Spirit says, come! and says it to all; which surely, as He is the Spirit of truth, He would not do, if not a soul could come till He himself put forth an influence which He had predetermined to bestow only on a select and favoured number. The ugly limitation will not do. The work and heart of the loving Spirit are, and must be, as large as those of the Father and the Son, whom He came to reveal." (_Discourses_, Ser. X.) The objections thus tendered to the Calvinistic theory of election are sufficient separately, and much more so collectively, to condemn the dogma. We impute no motives to the honoured men who hold the doctrine. They are doubtless as sincere in their belief as we are in ours. It did seem to us, at one time, that God could convert men if He wished it; but the dictum of Chillingworth--"the Bible and the Bible alone is the religion of Protestants," overturned that idea. The words of Jesus, "How often would I have gathered thy children together, . . . but ye would not," showed that Jesus was wishful to save the people; but His wish was not realised, because they "would not." And the Bible and philosophy are in harmony. We could easily conceive, that were certain individuals to be taken by almighty effort from one sphere, and placed in another, they would be converted. Christ confirms this idea. He said, "Woe unto thee, Chorazin! woe unto thee, Bethsaida! for if the mighty works which have been done in you had been done in Tyre and Sidon, they would have repented long ago in sackcloth and ashes" (Mat. xi. 21). But as God loves all equally with the love of compassion, this exercise of miracle in one case would lead to the exercise of miracle in another. And what would this involve? It would simply lead to the overturning of God's moral providence, which is based upon, and carried on in conjunction with, the highest wisdom. Parents may often be found sacrificing their wisdom to their love, but it is not so with God. All His attributes are in harmony. Justice is not sacrificed to love, nor love to justice. There is thus, in the Divine character, a firm and unchanging basis for the most profound veneration and the most intense affection. Regarding the particular illustration of the people of Sodom, Tyre, and Sidon, and why Christ had not done mighty works there, Dr. Morison has remarked, "It was not befitting our Saviour to become incarnate at _all times_, or even _at two different epochs_ in the history of the world. And when He did appear at a particular epoch in time, 'the fulness of the time,' it was absolutely necessary that He should live and work miracles, _not everywhere_, but in some _one limited area or locality_" (_Com. on Mat., ad loc._) CHAPTER VII. THE SCRIPTURAL VIEW OF EVANGELICAL ELECTION. ALTHOUGH there is much confusion of thought regarding election viewing it from a Calvinistic standpoint, the word itself is simple enough, as is the doctrine when viewed in the light of Scripture. THE WORD.--According to Liddell and Scott's Greek Lexicon, the verb to elect (eklego) means, "To pick or single out," especially as soldiers, rowers, &c. In the middle voice, "to pick out for one's self, choose out." Robinson says it means "to lay out together, to choose out, to select." In N. T. Mid., "to choose out for one's self." Parkhurst gives as its signification, "to choose, choose out." It has a variety of applications in the Scriptures, just as it has in our common everyday life. It was applied to the Jewish nation, regarding which it was said, "The Lord thy God hath chosen thee to be a peculiar people unto himself, above all the nations that are upon the earth" (Deut. xiv. 2). The term comprehended the whole nation, and no one will contend that the choice spoken of indicated that every Jew was safe for eternity. It was applied to the apostles, but this did not thereby secure infallibly their salvation. Judas fell away, and hanged himself. Paul declared that he had constantly to watch himself, lest he should become "a castaway." It is applied to David, "But I chose David to be over my people Israel" (1 Kings viii. 16). It is used also in reference to "place:" "As the place which the Lord your God shall choose" (Deut. xii. 5). The prophets of Baal were asked to "choose" a bullock, "and call on the name of their gods" (1 Kings xviii. 23). These and other applications of the word are quite sufficient to show that the term is not necessarily connected with the choosing of a few men to eternal salvation, and implying a faith-necessitating work of the Holy Spirit. And something is gained when we have gained this. Were we therefore asked whether we denied election? we should be quite entitled to ask, to what kind of election did our questioner refer? since there are several kinds referred to in the Holy Scriptures, and a special kind outside of Scripture, entertained by the followers of John Calvin. EVANGELICAL ELECTION. A PROCESS.--Seeing that the word "elect" means to "pick out," "to choose, to lay aside for one's self," it may denote either an act or a process, according to the object elected. If I select a book from the library, or choose an apple from the tree, the election thus exercised is simply an act, The book elected and the apple were entirely passive, having no will in the matter. But suppose I want two servants: I go into the market where a number are standing waiting to be employed. I find two, and explain the nature of the service, and state the wages and the rules of the house. One of the two accepts, the other refuses. I go forward on my mission, and find another. I state to him what I stated to the two already mentioned. He agrees, and is engaged. I have chosen --"elected"--the servants; but it was a process, not a simple act. Other wills came into play which differentiated the election in the one case from the other, and the concurrence of the two wills completed the matter. It is written in the word: "Wherefore, come out from among them, and be ye separate, saith the Lord, and touch not the unclean thing; and I will receive you, and will be a Father unto you, and ye shall be my sons and daughters, saith the Lord Almighty" (2 Cor. vi. 17, 18). This brings the matter plainly before us. There is the Divine exhortation, human concurrence, and the result--adoption. It is an absurd and unreasonable supposition to imagine that God deals with rational and responsible creatures as He does with vegetable and irrational brutes, which He does if the theory of irresistible grace is maintained. THE AUTHOR OF EVANGELICAL ELECTION.--There would not be need for any remark on this subject, were it not that objection may be urged against the view just stated, that it makes man the author of his election. In a secondary, yet important sense, he has to do with his election. But God is the Prime Mover and Author of evangelical election. The scheme of redemption originated with Him. He tells men that He earnestly desires their return, and upon what terms He will graciously receive them. If they consent He will take them out from amongst the condemned, "select them," "elect them," and place them among His children. The Bible confirms this view: "God hath from the beginning chosen you" (2 Thes. ii. 13.) "God our Father has chosen us in Him" (Eph. i. 3, 4.) THE OBJECTS OF EVANGELICAL ELECTION,--The people of this country are frequently engaged in elections. We elect men for the School Board, the Town Council, and for Parliament. When we record our vote we do so for a definite object. What, then, are the objects which God has in view in evangelical election? The apostle Peter states them in his first epistle. He says, "Elect unto obedience and sprinkling of the blood of Jesus." (1 Peter i. 2.) In other words, they were chosen, having become believers, to the blessings of justification and sanctification,--the one having reference to their state, the other to their character. HOW TO ENTER AMONG THE ELECT.--This has been the great puzzle to those educated under the teaching of Calvinistic divines. They read in the Bible that God wishes all men to be saved, but they are told that this means all the elect. At times they are "offered" a Saviour, but they are told that in order to believe in Him they need the irresistible influence of the Holy Ghost. If they are amongst the favoured ones, it will come to them in due time; but if they are not, then no prayers, no cries, no tears can alter the Divine decree. How long will men stand by a system unknown to the Christian church for 400 years, and alike repugnant to the reason and the whole spirit of the Gospel, and fitted to plunge the honest inquirer into endless perplexity? "Oh! how unlike the complex works of man Heaven's easy, artless, unencumber'd plan, No meretricious graces to beguile, No clustering ornaments to clog the pile; From ostentation as from weakness free, It stands like the cerulean arch we see, Majestic in its own simplicity. Inscribed above the portal from afar, Conspicuous as the brightness of a star, Legible only by the light they give, Stand the soul-quickening words--'BELIEVE AND LIVE.'" Paul in the Second Epistle to the Thessalonians tells us how they entered among the elect. His words are: "But we are bound to give thanks alway to God for you, brethren beloved of the Lord, because God hath from the beginning chosen you to salvation through sanctification of the Spirit and belief of the truth" (2 Thes. ii. 13.) They were thus among the elect, and we are told how it came about. The Spirit had brought the Gospel message to Thessalonica by his accredited agent, the apostle Paul. In that message the people were told of God's infinite love--that He loved them, and that the Saviour had died for their sins. He testified to Jesus as mighty to save, to save any--to save all--to save to the very uttermost. He convinced them that they stood in need of a Saviour, and that Christ was the very Saviour they required. These were two great phases of the Spirit's work--viz., to produce conviction in the mind of the sinner, and to point out Jesus as the Lamb of God which hath taken away the sin of the world. The Thessalonians, under His gracious testimony, believed the record, or, as it is said, "the truth," and became the chosen of God--His elected ones. That this is true may be seen from the way in which sinners enter into God's adopted family. It will be admitted that all who are in God's adopted family are in a saved condition--in the same state, in short, as are the elected ones. But how do men enter into this adopted family? It is stated in John i. 12, "But as many as received Him, to them gave He power to become the sons of God, even to them that believe on His name." To believe on His name is just to depend upon Him alone for salvation. The apostle Paul in writing to the Galatians says, "For ye are all the children of God by faith in Christ Jesus" (Gal. iii. 26.) Each one had personally to believe in Christ, or to say as Paul said, He "loved me, and gave himself for me" (Gal. ii. 20.) It may be said that this makes the way too easy, too simple. It is simple to us indeed, but it cost the Divine Father the sacrifice of His only-begotten Son; it cost the Divine Son His sore agony in the Garden of Gethsemane, and His offering up of himself upon the cross. But the simplicity of the way of salvation is implied in such passages as, "Look unto me and be ye saved, all the ends of the earth;" and, "Hear and your soul shall live." The reason why it is easy is this,--the meritorious work of salvation, the work upon the ground of which we get into heaven, is not our feelings, nor our own works, but the work, the finished work of Christ. The system advocated in this treatise may be objected to on the ground that it makes man the arbiter of his own destiny. There is no doubt that it really does so. But is this a good ground for rejecting it? We think not. Let it be remembered that all through life man has to exercise the power of election--choice. He has to do so in regard to a profession or trade, in regard to securities, and in respect of marriage, and it would only be in harmony with what he is constantly doing, were he called upon to "choose," or decide, upon matters affecting his spiritual condition. Is he not, moreover, the maker of his own character? This is his most precious heritage, more valuable than thousands of gold and silver. But how is it made? By single volitions on the side of the right, the true, and the good. And is not the life that is to come a continuance of the life that _now is_? And if we exercise choice in the making of our characters, this is the same as being the arbiters of our destination in eternity. And what is thus plain to the intelligence is confirmed by the Scriptures. Their language is, "Choose ye this day whom ye will serve;" "Wilt thou not from this day say unto me, My father?" They thus clearly make the matter to turn on the "_will_." It may be said that the view for which we have been contending, does not give the Christian the comfort of heart which the system opposed does. But the primary question with an honest inquirer should not be, which view of a subject is the most agreeable? but, what is the truth upon the point? It is possible in religious life, as in social, to live in a fool's paradise. But what more comfort could a man desiderate than is given by the Holy Spirit? The Christian may be poor and deformed, but God loves him all the same as if he were rich as Croesus, and in form had the symmetry of the Apollo Belvidere. He may be tried as silver is tried in the fire, but the Lord will sit as the refiner, and not suffer him to be tried above what he is able to bear. But what about the _security_ of the believer? The covenant being made between Christ and the Father is well ordered in all things and sure, according to the system of Predestination. "Once a saint, a saint for ever," it has been said. The Christian, it is argued, may make slips, even as David did, but he cannot fall finally away, for every one that Christ died for will be ultimately saved. Now if all this were true, then doubtless a sense, or feeling if you will, of security would be gained. When Cromwell was dying he is said to have asked his chaplain whether those who once knew the truth could be lost, and being answered in the negative, he replied, "Then I am safe." Now, it is not agreeable to be constantly on the watch-tower looking out for the foe, or to have to tread cautiously among the grass lest you should be bitten by a rattlesnake. But a man may imagine himself to be secure when he is not. Many of the shareholders and trustees involved in the late Bank catastrophy thought they were secure; but they slept upon a slumbering volcano, and many lost their all. They thought that they were secure, but it was a dream from which they were awakened to a terrible reality. So in religion. A man under the shadow of a theory may think himself safe, whilst his gourd is only the gourd of Jonah, a thing that withers under the heat of the sun. The feeling of security is very agreeable; but how, if strict Calvinism is adhered to, is any man to get intelligently amongst the elect? If Christ has died only for a few, and the names of these are kept a profound secret, how can I believe that I am among that few? We cannot believe without evidence. If we do, our faith is the faith of the fool--a dream, a conceit, and nothing more. Before a man, upon the theory of strict Calvinism, can believe that Christ died for him, he would require to get a list of the elect. This not being forthcoming, many poor men are waiting for the touch of the Almighty's finger to work faith within them, and place them among the happy number of the saved. But in so waiting they are under a perfect delusion. As a matter of fact there are many excellent Christian men who contend earnestly for the creed of Calvinism. They read in the Bible that God is willing to take sinners back through Christ, and they come to Him, and consecrate themselves to His services, and then battle for limitation. But in accepting Christ as their Saviour they shut their eyes to the doctrine of their creed, and acted on the declarations of the word of God. We rejoice that they are Christians, but maintain, nevertheless, that in believing they acted illogically. But to return to security. What more security could any one desire than the word of Christ?--"My sheep hear my voice, and I know them, and they follow me. And I give unto them eternal life; and they shall never perish, neither shall any man pluck them out of my hand. My Father which gave them me is greater than all; and no man is able to pluck them out of my Father's hand" (John x. 27, 29). Our Lord is here speaking of external foes, and declares that no enemy is strong enough to take His sheep from Him. But men enter His service freely, and freely they remain. He has no slaves in His household. His people are attached to Him because they see in Him a concentration of all that is noble and good. His self-sacrifice for them has won their hearts, and inspired them with devotedness to His person. That it is possible to fall away we admit, from the fact that man is a free being surrounded with temptations; and also because we find throughout the Bible earnest exhortations to watchfulness, which would be quite useless except upon the possibility of letting the truth slip from the mind. Hymenaeus and Alexander made shipwreck of their faith (1 Tim. i.); and Paul had to keep his body under, lest he himself should become a castaway. But the _possibility_ of falling away should not disturb the equanimity of any Christian for a moment. As free creatures we have the power of throwing ourselves into the river, or the fire, or in many other ways taking our own life; yet the possession of this power in nowise disturbs our tranquillity of soul, or mars our peace of mind. It were, no doubt, more pleasing to the flesh to have no fighting, no struggle, no watching; but we must accept the logic of facts, and they clearly indicate that the Christian life is a battle all the way to the gates of the New Jerusalem. But in this spiritual contest, the thews and sinews of the soul are made strong. By failing to realise the ideal of what a Christian should be, believers feel the need of Christ's presence, and the help of the Holy Ghost, and sympathise with the sentiments of the hymn. "I could not do without Thee, O Saviour of the lost, Whose precious blood redeemed me At such tremendous cost; Thy righteousness, Thy pardon, Thy precious blood must be My only hope and comfort, My glory and my plea. "I could not do without Thee; I cannot stand alone, I have no strength or goodness, No wisdom of my own; But Thou, beloved Saviour, Art all in all to me, And weakness will be power If leaning hard on Thee. "I could not do without Thee No other friend can read The spirit's strange deep longings, Interpreting its need; No human heart could enter Each dim recess of mine, And soothe, and hush, and calm it, O blessed Lord, but Thine. Having entered by faith into the family of God, or in other words, amongst the elect, it becomes the sacred duty of the believer to be careful to maintain good works. He must remember that the way to heaven is not strewn with roses. He is Christ's freeman; but it is with spiritual freedom as with civil, "eternal vigilance is the price of liberty." Neither is it an artillery duel, or firing at long range; it is ofttimes a grapple in the fosse for victory or death. But the Christian--the elected one--has not to fight life's battle alone. The Holy Spirit having led him to Jesus carries on the good work in his heart. He tells him that he is dear to God; that he is His son, "His jewel;" His "portion;" that God will never leave him nor forsake him; that his strength shall be equal to his day; that his foot shall never be moved; and that God, who hath given up for him His son, will with that Son freely give him all things. By being faithful unto death he shall at last receive the crown of life, which shall never fade away. THE END. INDEX. Acts ii. 23, iv. 27, 28 Adrumetum, Monks of Amos iii. 6 Arles, Synod of Believers, Security of Blinding of men Byron's mother Calvin on Reprobation Cassian, John Charles V. Chosen, The, few Christ, Marvelling of Chrysostom Church of England Clark, Dr. A. Clement of Rome 2 Corinthians xiii. 5, 2 Corinthians xiii. 6 Cunningham, his Admission Dort, Synod of Eadie, Dr., View of Elect, The foreknown Elect, The word Elect, the, How to enter amongst Election, Objects in Eli, Sons of Ephesians i. 4, i. 11 Evil in the city Faber, Statement by Fathers, their testimony Froude Gal. ii. 20 God, His foreknowledge, His oath Gottschalk Great men, Mothers of Guthrie, Dr. John Heb. vi. 8 Invitations, Holy Spirit's Irenaeus Isaiah i. 18, xlv. 7, xlvi. 10 Jacob and Esau Jeremiah vi. 30, vii. 29 Job xiv. 5 John xii. 37 Jude iv Judgment, The day of Keilah, David in 1 Kings xxii Kinloch, Lord Lambeth, Articles of Luke xiv. 26 Mark v. 6 Matthew xi. 21, xx. 16 Martyr, Justin Mental power Mercy on whom He will Micaiah Moral distinctions destroyed Mosheim, Testimony of Neander Origen Pantheism Pelagianism, what? Persons, Respect of 1 Peter i. 1, ii. 8, 2 Peter i. 10 Philosophy ignored Potter, The, and the clay Power, Divine Providential blessings Psalm lxxvi. 10, cxxv. 6 Reason, Appeal to Reprobation [1], [2] Romans i. 28, viii. 29, ix. 11, ix. 13, ix. 15, xi. 5 1 Samuel ii. 25 Semipelagianism Sin, Author of Sovereignty, God's Sublapsarianism Supralapsarianism Tears, Christ's Tertullian 2 Thessalonians ii. 13 2 Timothy iii. 8 Titus i. 16 U. P. Church Wesley, John Westminster, Assembly of BELL AND BAIN, PRINTERS, 41 MITCHELL STREET, GLASGOW. 
28401	----	Free _and_ Impartial THOUGHTS, ON THE Sovereignty _of_ God, THE DOCTRINES OF Election, Reprobation, AND Original Sin: Humbly Addressed To all who Believe and Profess those DOCTRINES. The Second Edition, Corrected and Enlarged. _LONDON:_ Printed for J. ROBINSON, at the _Golden-Lion_, in _Ludgate-Street._ M.DCC.XLV. THE PREFACE _I Cannot find, upon the most impartial Retrospection of the Argument, any Reason to alter my Sentiments concerning it; and as it is a Matter of the greatest Importance, 'tis hoped that those who maintain the Doctrines of_ Election, &_c. will afford it all the Weight and Consideration it deserves. But, if there be any among them, who will hear no Reason or Argument whatever, and are_ sure, only because they are sure, _I Have_ little _or_ no Hopes _to prevail with them, to give me a fair Hearing, or to think_ candidly _and_ impartially _about it. But as there are among them, some, who no doubt will allow the_ Possibility _of their being in an Error; to all such I address my self, and beseech them, as much as possible to lay aside Prejudice and Partiality; wisely considering, that many of their Fore-fathers maintained some erroneous Doctrines, with as much Zeal, and Integrity, as they their Descendants now do the Doctrines of_ Election, &_c. and yet saw Occasion to renounce them afterwards._ _There is Reason to fear, the just Liberty I have taken with the_ Doctrines of Election, &_c. may, by some, be deem'd Blasphemy against_ God _himself; but I am far from intending any such thing. These Doctrines (I think) on the contrary, are_ in them selves _nothing better than_ blasphemous, _tho' the Intentions of some who maintain them, be ever so devout and sincere: And if an Impeachment of Doctrines, which, instead of preserving_ God's Moral Character, _robs him of all that is dear and valuable, or that can render him lovely and adorable to Man, be accounted_ Blasphemy, _the Ignorance and Bigotry of those, who judge after that Manner, ought much to be lamented. It is a melancholy Truth, that where Prejudice, in favour of false Principles, has had early and frequent Access to the Mind, it too often shuts the Ear against Reason and Truth; and 'tis very hard to persuade such People to enter at all, and much less impartially, into the Merits of an Argument advanced against them; nor indeed is the Liberty of Thought on_ Religious Subjects, duly inculcated _in Religious Assemblies: For, the_ Teachers of Christianity, _tho' they are seldom averse to give us the Compliment of a_ just Liberty of thinking for ourselves, _are but too apt_ to set the Terrors of the Lord in array against Unbelievers; _tho' perhaps_ their Dissent _may sometimes be only the_ innocent Effect, _of the best Examination they are able to make. And if there be any thing worthy of Notice, in what I have advanced, I hereby intreat all, into whose Hands this Treatise may come, not to be terrified, by any such popular Arts, from making a thorough Examination for themselves; on the other hand, I am altogether as willing to set right, in whatever I may have erred, or been mistaken._ _'Tis well known, the 17th Article of our own_ National Church, _greatly favours the_ Doctrines _of_ Election _and_ Reprobation; _and it is also generally believed, that the_ Better Part _of our Clergy entirely disapprove these Doctrines, and would very readily assist in expunging them out of their_ Creed; _which would render their Consciences much easier, than now they are, or can be, under a Subscription in a Sense so_ very qualified _and_ remote _from the_ natural Intent _and_ Meaning _of the_ Article. _Experience makes it evident, that Education is able to retain Men of the_ Brightest Understanding, _in the Belief of the_ Greatest Absurdities. _But, that Men of Learning, Ingenuity and Experience, who have lived perhaps to the Age of fifty, in the Disbelief of the_ Doctrines _of_ Election, &_c. should after that sincerely embrace them, is to me Matter of great Astonishment; yet this I am inform'd is really the Case, with regard to one of the most ingenious_ Divines, _our Metropolis has to boast of. One Reason may perhaps be alledged, for such an unexpected Alteration of Sentiment_, viz. _That tho' we disbelieve these Doctrines, because they are_ absurd, _yet we hold at the same time, others_, equally repugnant _to Reason, and to Common Sense; and certainly we may as reasonably_ embrace _the one as_ retain _the other. Besides, with what reasonable Expectation of Success could such a Man as this sit down to argue with_ another _of_ absurd Principles, _when_ he himself _might be so easily abash'd and put to Silence, by an Appeal to_ other Principles, _of_ his own, _equally absurd and inexplicable. The best way then, instead of embracing a_ fresh, _absurd, Principle of Faith, is, to renounce the_ old. _I would not willingly Offend_ Any, _by a special Application to_ particular Societies _and_ Doctrines: _let but every Man make an honest Application to himself, and the Articles of Faith he professes, and the Work of Reformation will, I am persuaded, gain something thereby. And that, not only these Doctrines, but every other absurd Principle of Faith, which either Ignorance, or Design, may have introduced into the Christian church, to the_ Dishonour _of_ God, _the_ Burthen _and_ Reproach _of Human Nature, may be_ utterly exploded, _is the incessant Wish, and earnest Desire, of_ The Author. Free _and_ Impartial THOUGHTS, &_c_. _CHRISTIANITY_ having been instituted, by its great Author and Publisher, for the Benefit and Advantage of Mankind, it is pity we should so greatly differ, concerning what _Genuine Christianity_ is; if the _Holy Bible_, as we generally agree, was designed to lead us to the true Knowledge of God, and to be a standing and perpetual Rule of _Faith_ and _Manners_ to Men, it must surely have been greatly corrupted since the primitive Times of the Gospel, or the _Explication_ of it designedly left to a more excellent and superior Director: For the seeming Contradictions, and Multiplicity of obscure Passages, wherewith it abounds, shew plainly it could never, in its present Condition, be a Rule of Faith, &_c_. becoming an all-wise and perfect Being, to give to rational Creatures. Every _good Man, Society_, and _State_, study Perspicuity in all their _Rules, Orders, and Statutes,_ dispensed to their _Families, Members,_ and _Subjects:_ and can we suppose, that He, who is perfect in Knowledge, would, in the Dispensation of his Laws, take less care of the everlasting State of his immortal Creature _Man?_ Yet it is plain, we differ in our Sentiments of Religion, and greatly too, for want, as I sincerely hope, of the Knowledge of better Helps, to direct our Inquiries, in Matters, the true Knowledge whereof, is of so considerable Moment. Therefore, I intend, in the Course of this Debate, to descant _freely_, on the Doctrines of _Divine Sovereignty, Election, Reprobation_, and _Original Sin;_ and also, on the Arguments which some ingenious Gentlemen have used to support them. But I hope (with regard to the _Authors_ I may possibly name) to be perfectly decent, and to treat them with all becoming Respect and Deference, as I think Men of Integrity, Learning and Abilities deserve; who, though in some Points they may err, and hold Doctrines in their own Nature and Tendency altogether subversive of Religion and Morality, do nevertheless not perceive them to have these Tendencies, and are therefore by _no Means_ chargeable with them. Yet, as touching the _Doctrines_ themselves, I shall presume to speak freely, both in regard to their Nature, and what appears to me to be their genuine Fruits and Effects. It is with me an establish'd Truth, that the mistaken Notion of some _learned Men_, concerning the _Sovereignty_ of the _Deity_, has given these Doctrines a more favourable Acceptance in the World, than otherwise they would, or could, ever have met with; and notwithstanding all the Pains and Arguments these Gentlemen have bestowed, to reconcile their Doctrines to our common Sense of _Right_ and _Wrong_, it is plain, that, at _bottom_, this is the grand governing Principle. For, when their Attempts to reconcile these Doctrines with common Sense and Equity fail, they have immediate Recourse to God's _Sovereignty_, and even go so far, at least in Effect, as to deny there is _any_ intrinsick Difference in Things themselves, as shall be made appear from their most approved Writers, whenever they are pleased to demand it: But as this Principle of _Sovereignty_ is most certainly their strong Hold, I shall therefore endeavour to go to the Depth of this Argument; and shew, in the first Place, how greatly they misapprehend the Nature of this _Attribute;_ and, in the second Place, granting it to be as they say, I shall then shew the _precarious_ and _miserable_ Condition of all Mankind, not excepting the Elect themselves, under the Government of such an arbitrary Being. To begin with the first. That God is a _Sovereign_, we readily allow: But it will not therefore follow, he is _morally capable_ of doing any thing, in its _own Nature_, immoral or unjust. All religious Debates are allowed to be best determinable by the divine Attributes; and yet nothing is more common, than to single out, and lay the greatest Stress on, that Attribute alone, which appears best to suit our own particular Opinions: which, however innocent our Intention may be, is, I think, in itself, a very erroneous and unwarrantable Procedure; for as God is _all-wise_ and _good_, as well as _almighty_ and _independent_, it is, in the Nature of Things, impossible (and therefore we should never admit it possible) he should be capable (in a moral Sense, I mean) of exerting any one particular Attribute in _Opposition_ to, or _Diminution_ from, another. A _Sovereign_ he is, nor can any Creature whatever dispute his _unlimited_ and _uncontroulable_ Power over his _whole Creation_. But Power alone, without Wisdom and Goodness to make a right Use and Application of it, may be perfect _Frenzy_, and run into the greatest Latitude of _Folly_ and _Tyranny_. It is, if I may be allowed the Comparison, like a _Vessel_ that has lost its Helm, continually exposed to the tossing of Winds and Waves. To talk, therefore, of _mere Sovereign Pleasure_, without Regard to the proper Reason or Fitness of Things, so far operating and bring in the _Divine Mind_ (and which is nothing more than the Presence and Operation of his own Wisdom) in order to prefer what, in its own Nature, is _best_, and _fittest_ to be done, is excluding from the Deity, those _more_ blessed and _valuable Perfections_ of _Wisdom_ and _Goodness_, and establishing in their room, and at their Expence, mere Sovereign Power alone. _Physically speaking_ indeed, we allow God can do Evil itself; but the moral Perfections of his Nature, are to us an _infallible_ and _unshaken Security_, that he _never will_ do it. _Man_ being an impotent and fallible Creature, liable, not only to mistake the true Nature and importance of Things, but when he does understand his Duty rightly, liable also, thro' the Prevalence of _Habit_ and _Passion_, to be very backward and defective in performing it, must necessarily be subject to such Laws, as contain in them Rewards and Punishments, proper to influence his _Hopes_ and his _Fears_. But as God, on the contrary, is a Being of all possible and infinite Perfections; an exact Knowledge of what we call _Right_ and _Wrong_, _Just_ and _Unjust_, ever hath, and always will exit in the _Divine Mind_, and be to him a perfect, constant, and invariable Rule of Action, in relation to his Creatures. He that is _infinite_ in Knowledge, cannot but know, at all Times, and under the most (to us) difficult and perplex'd Circumstances of Things, what in its _own Nature_ is _best_, and _fittest_ to be done; and, being void of all Bias, Prejudice, and Passion, cannot but approve of what is _right_ and _best;_ and being likewise _Almighty_, no Power can possibly interrupt, or prevent what he determined to accomplish: So that it is _morally impossible_, that God should do an evil Thing, These Truths are so deducible from each other, and in themselves so evident, to all unbiassed and inquisitive Minds, that one would wonder to find Men, of Learning and Integrity, give into the contrary Sentiments; which, in Effect they do, who hold Doctrines _naturally subversive_ of these fundamental Truths, as all certainly do, who depart from the moral Good and Fitness of Things, and resolve all into _mere sovereign Pleasure_ alone, _independent_ of Wisdom and Goodness; which must ever be at hand to _cooperate_ with, and govern the Exertion of, their favourite Attribute, _sovereign Power_ itself; or, if they do not expressly affirm this, they do by another Method the very same thing; and that is, by denying, in Effect, the _intrinsick Difference_ of Good and Evil, which, according to them, has no Foundation in the _Nature_ and Relations of Things, but takes its Rise, only, from the mere Will and Appointment of the _Deity_. But if all Things are in themselves equally Good, where is the Use to _appoint_, or the Sense of talking about it? Wisdom and Goodness must, according to this Notion, be idle and unmeaning Sounds, without Sense or Service. But alas! the natural Consequence of maintaining Tenets, so repugnant to common Sense, is seldom less than running into and embracing other Absurdities, in themselves equally great with what they are brought to defend, And here, as some of these Gentlemen are exalted, and I hope deservedly, to the Dignity of Teachers in the _Christian Church_, they will, I hope, permit me to ask them a Question or two, which I should, on almost any other Occasion, blush to ask any rational Man, _viz_. If they do not perceive an intrinsic Beauty and Excellence in Virtue, as opposed to Vice; independent of all _positive_ or arbitrary Appointment, tho' of the _Deity_ itself; and whether, besides the Commands of God, (which to be sure are of high Importance, and ought ever to be urged with great Strength and Energy) they do not also _press_ upon their Hearers, the Practice of Virtue, and endeavour to recommend, and inforce it on the Mind, from its _own_ native Charms? But to make this Matter, still, if possible, more evident; let us suppose the present excellent Order of Things inverted, and that God, of his own mere Pleasure, had given Mankind quite contrary Laws, and commanded _Rebellion, Murder, Ingratitude_, and all Manner of Intemperance and Debauchery, instead of their _opposite virtues;_ would the same Fitness, Beauty, and Propriety, appear to these Gentlemen, as there now does, in _Virtue?_ If not, from whence the Difference arises, let them answer. As God is an infinite Mind or Spirit, perfectly acquainted, at every Instant of Time, with whatever _hath been, is_, or _shall be;_ and all Things _possible to be;_ 'tis evident, that all possible Relations of Persons and Things are fully known to him; and that all _moral_ and _divine_ Obligations, arising from the Relation we stand in to God, and to each other, did, in their own Nature, _previous_ to actual Law or Commandment, exist; because the one was in Time, and the other Eternal; one commenced only (at best) with the _Being_ and _Beginning_ of Creatures, the other was from all Eternity, _co-existent_ with the _Divine Wisdom_ itself; and such an inseparable Concomitant therewith, that, in regard to the _Divine Being_, himself, it was absolutely impossible, but that, on his creating such a Rank of Beings as we are, _moral_ and _religious_ Obligations must have been _invariably_ and _unalterably_ the same; and if, as these Men teach, God's having commanded the Practice of Virtue, be its peculiar Sanction, and that _alone_ which distinguishes it from Vice or Evil; then, by the same or as good an Argument, his commanding Light in the Beginning, is all the Reason we have for esteeming Light and Darkness different, (as they really are) the one being the actual Pretence of a real Body, and the other a mere Name, to signify its Absence; not that Vice is therefore a mere Name, to signify the Absence of Virtue, for Comparisons seldom hold good in _every_ minute Particular; but there is a Parity between the two Cases, sufficient to justify my bringing in the one, as an Illustration of the other. There is no Knowledge _more certain_, than what Mankind commonly have of Good and Evil; and he who, in order to serve any private Scheme of Religion, goes about to depreciate this Knowledge, robs Mankind of all Truth and Certainty whatever, and in the End subjects his own darling Schemes to the same Uncertainty; for if we cannot judge of the Fitness, of plain moral Truth and Duty, neither can we of any Scheme of Religion; especially such as hang together more by Art and human Contrivance, than by Reason or Revelation. Being very desirous to get all the Information I could, concerning the Matter in Debate; I have attentively read over Mr. _Cole's_ Treatise on the _Sovereignty_ of God. I know 'tis thought an unanswerable Performance; and, so far as it regards general Christianity, it is worth every Christian's serious Notice: But as to the Doctrine it was wrote to support, it leaves it (in my Judgment) no better than it found it; but is miserably weak, and defective, as to any Thing that looks like sound Reason, or true Argument; and amounts to no more than this _poor Assertion, That because God is a Sovereign, he may do what he pleases:_ And, from the Instances he brings from Scripture, 'tis plain, that Mr. _Cole_ himself pays as _little_ Regard to the intrinsick Worth and Excellence of Things, as is done by many of his Brethren. The manner in which he has been pleased to give us the Story of _Jacob_ and _Esau_, proves the Truth of this Observation, I have no great Inclination to spend Time in explaining _hard Passages_ of Scripture, (tho' if any thing of that kind can be serviceable, or deem'd excellent, 'tis Mr. _Taylor_ of _Norwich_ his Book on _Original Sin_,) or to trespass on the Reader's Patience, by throwing one Text of _hard_ and _uncertain_ Meaning against another; for by this means the Controversy hath been needlessly prolonged. Where the Scriptures are _plain_, _positive_ and _reasonable_, their Authority ought to be conscientiously adhered to: But as this is not always the Case, the _next_ Thing to knowing what is the _true Meaning_ of any particular Text of Scripture is, to know what it neither _does_ nor _can_ possibly mean; in which Case, the Divine Attributes, and the Nature and Reason, or (if you please) Fitness of Things, is the best Rule. We _cannot_, it is impossible we _should_, understand the certain determinate Meaning of any Text of Scripture _better_, if altogether _so well_, as we do _know_ certainly, that God is _just_ and _good_, and _know_ also as clearly, what _Justice_ and _Goodness_ mean, when applied to the _Deity_, as we do, when we apply them to _ourselves_. And this Rule, if duly observed, would be abundantly sufficient, to set aside many Interpretations of Scripture, too commonly admitted upon this and the like Occasions. And, besides this never failing Argument (to all who attend duly to its Force) it is worth while, just to remark, that though, as the _Bible_ now stands, there are in it (as we must acknowledge) some Passages, which (especially at first sight) seem to favour the Doctrine of _Sovereignty_, &c. yet as it is possible, nay sometimes easy, to give them _another interpretation_, and the general Scope and Tenor of the Scripture being agreeable to such an Interpretation, we have abundantly more Reason to _reject_, than to _admit_ of the Sense, in which these Gentlemen are pleased to understand and expound many Texts of the _Bible_, relating to this and other affinitive Points. I would not, as I observed before, presume to impose on the Reader's Time and Patience, by entering unnecessarily into the scriptural Part of the Argument; yet I must beg Leave, to make now and then an Observation or two as I go along: And the first Thing that falls in my way is, the Story of _Jacob_ and _Esau_, and the Account which Mr. _Cole_ gives of it. He not only relates the Story, but assures us, that _Jacob's_ obtaining the Blessing was of Divine Appointment, and (what is more extraordinary) that the _Falsehood_ and _Fraud_ he practised to accomplish it, was all of God's own immediate Direction; and this he gives as an Instance of God's _Sovereignty_, and proceeding contrary to the moral Fitness of Things, and the Nature of those Laws he hath given to Man. That God intended _Jacob_ the _Blessing_, or preferred him to _Esau_, I readily grant; but cannot admit it to be inferred from thence, that the Means, by which it was, as we reckon, accomplished, were _Divine_ also: There is a more natural or (at least) more justifiable way of accounting for the whole Matter. According to the History, it seems plain, that _Rebecca_ only, and not her Husband, was privy to this Designation of the _Deity:_ she had upon Inquiry (when with Child) received such an Assurance from the Lord; which might be the _first Cause_ of her preferring _Jacob_ to _Esau_, and which in Time, 'tis probable, grew up into a much greater Degree of _Partiality_ and _Fondness:_ All this Time the good Old _Patriarch_, her Husband, seems to have been entirely unacquainted with the Affair. And when the Time drew nigh, in which, according (as some think) to Custom, he was about to _bless_ his _eldest_ Son, _Rebecca_ then grew diffident of the Accomplishment of the Promise made in _Jacob's_ Behalf, and applied herself to the Means, which the Text tells us was used on that Occasion. As to the Authority those Heads of Families had to _confer Benefits_ on their Offspring, by way of _Blessing_, though I shall not now much contend about it, yet give me Leave to make a few Observations. It don't appear to me that _Isaac_, in giving his Blessing, did so properly or so much bestow it on the _Person_ of _Jacob_ present, as he did on the _Person_ of _Esau_ absent; because it is the Intention which ought principally to be regarded, and _Esau_ undoubtedly was intended. Again, this way of blessing, if considered in itself as a mere Tradition, could be _no more_ efficacious, than what now prevails in some Parts of the _Christian Church_. All true Authority of this kind (if any there be) must result from _immediate Inspiration and Command;_ and whether _Isaac_ had these Qualifications, while _Jacob_ stood before him, personating _Esau_, is a Matter of no small Doubt and Dispute. He was ('tis evident) much surprised at the _Cheat_, put on him by his _Wife_ and _Son_, and would doubtless very willingly have given _Esau_ the Preference, according to his first Intention; but something _supernatural_ seems now to have seized and satisfied him, that _Jacob_ was the Person intended; for he cries out, "I have blessed him, yea and he shall be blessed." And this latter Assurance, and the Energy and Satisfaction wherewith the Words were pronounced, I take _rather_ to have been the _true Blessing_ than the _other_. For, as the Reason of _Jacob's_ Dissimulation was intirely owing to his Mother's Diffidence and Impatience; so, there is no Doubt to be made, but that the _Almighty_ himself would, had she not interfered, have brought it about in a manner becoming his _Holiness_, and not by _Falsehood_, _Deceit_, and _Dissimulation_. _Religion_ can never be _more_ dishonoured, or the Despensations of God to Mankind receive _greater_ Reproach, than when _Divine Purposes_ are (under God's immediate Direction) said to be accomplish'd by Methods in themselves _evil_ and _immoral_, and altogether opposite to His Commands. Hath he forbid us Lying, under the _Penalty_ of _Hell-Fire_, and shall he himself practise it, or immediately influence another to do it, for the sake of bringing to pass some Event, which he could as easily have accomplish'd, by Methods purely righteous and honourable! And had _Jacob_ never been prompted, or attempted to obtain the Blessing in the manner he did attempt it, 'tis more than probable, that God, who removed _Isaac's_ Surprise, and caused him to break forth as he did, "I have blessed him, yea and he shall be blessed," would never have permitted or impowered _Isaac_, to have _blessed Esau_, in an _effectual_ manner beyond his Brother: Or if a mere Pronouncing of Words, when uttered as a Blessing from the Heads of Families, was in itself an _irreversible Blessing_, and _Isaac_ had attempted to bestow it on _Esau_, God no doubt would have stayed his Mouth by _Intimations within;_ as he did, on another Occasion, the _Hand of Abraham_, by an Angel without: Provided, I say, it be allowed, that a _formal Blessing_, from the Mouth of _Isaac_, was necessary to confirm on _Jacob_ those superior Privileges, which God had designed for him; and that this Interpretation of the Text is more honourable, and better becoming the Truth and Majesty of the _Divine Being_. I appeal not to Reason only, but to Mr. _Cole_ himself: For whatever Influence Prejudice, or Enthusiasm, may have on some Minds, there are certain Seasons, wherein Truth will display itself to the Realm and Understanding of Mankind, and extort, even from the Mouths of those, who sometimes oppose her, the most ample Concessions in her Favour. Take the following as an Instance--_Cole's Sovereignty of God_, Page 41, 2d Edit. "To this also might be added the strict Injunctions that God hath laid upon the subordinate Dispensers of his Law; as namely, to judge the People with just Judgment, not to wrest Judgment, nor respect Persons; yea, he curseth them that pervert Judgment, and will surely reprove them that accept Persons; and shall mortal Man be more just than God? will he, under such Penalties, command Men to do thus, and not do so himself?" The Argument is undoubtedly equally applicable to the Sin of _Lying_, or indeed to any Sin whatever; and I appeal to every unprejudiced Reader, if any Thing more to the Purpose could be urged, against his own Account of the Affair between _Jacob_ and _Esau_, or even against the Doctrine itself, which he writes his Book to support: and this, in Conjunction with my foregoing Arguments, may, I hope, be Answer sufficient for the Use they make of _all other_ parallel Places of Scripture. By this Concession 'tis plain, that Justice and Goodness in God are, by this Author, considered the same as in us; how else were it possible, to understand what the Laws of God truly mean? _Be you perfect, as your Father which is in Heaven is perfect_, is a plain Indication (taking in the Context) of the moral Perfections of the Divine Nature, in Part apparent to us, as the Text observes, from his admirable Bounty in the Creation; _He causeth his Sun to rise on the Evil and on the Good, and sendeth his Rain on the Just and the Unjust_. Though at other Times, when these Gentlemen are hard pinched with the Iniquity and Injustice of their Doctrines, they apply for Refuge to the _Sovereignty_ of God, and give strong Intimations, that _Justice_ and _Goodness_, when applied to him, are mere unmeaning Sounds, which at best signify, what mere Sovereignty pleases to do, and that when applied to Man, they signify quite another Thing. And this naturally leads me to the second Thing I proposed to consider, _viz_. That allowing the Doctrine of _Election_ to be, as they say, resolveable into God's Sovereignty; that God is just such a Sovereign, as this Doctrine supposes, and these Gentlemen take him to be; that they have his Word for their own Election and Salvation; yet even then, there could be no manner of Certainty as to Religion, no Dependance on the Promises and Threatnings of the Gospel; and consequently, the supposed Elect must _beat the Air_, and run at the same or as great Uncertainties, as any other Persons whatever, under the Government of such an arbitrary Being. I have, to avoid Dispute, proposed this Argument more to the Advantage of the Elect, than I was strictly obliged to do, by allowing them to be absolutely certain, that God has told them, that they are his Elect, and that he will give them eternal Life; which, allowing the Doctrine of _Election_ to be true, is generally much more than they can prove, either to themselves, or to others: allowing, I say, the Doctrine of _Election_ to be clearly revealed in Scripture, there will be this Difficulty behind, as to the certain Marks of being of that Number. The Scripture must also as clearly reveal the Marks, as it does the Doctrine, or we shall not be able to apply with any Certainty to ourselves. Is believing the Doctrine, &_c_. and thinking myself one of this happy Number, a Rule sufficient to abide by? If so, no Man who has this Faith, concerning the _Doctrine_ and _himself_, can ever depart from it. Yet, there have been many Instances of Persons, zealous in that way, who saw Occasion afterwards to renounce the Doctrine itself, and with it that _imaginary_ and _ungrounded Conceit_ of their being, for no Reason whatever, God's dear Children and Favourites, and embraced, in its room, the Doctrines of _universal Grace_ and _Free-will;_ and upon the best Reasons too, for as without the one, God cannot be just, so without the other, Man, being no Agent, can be no Subject of Rewards and Punishments. These very Men were before thought to be elect, by their most spiritual and best judging Brethren, who pronounced them chosen in _Christ_, and unshaken in the Faith; and so indeed they judged concerning themselves: But the Grace of God being once permitted freely to operate in the Mind, it soon expelled that Ignorance, and Narrowness of Spirit, which (even in many well meaning Persons) is the genuine Effect of such narrow Doctrines. If having this Faith be no certain Mark, because a Man may depart from it, what Proof have they? surely none: But allowing them an absolute Certainty, as to themselves, that God hath told them, in Person, that they are his Elect, it will (on their own darling Principle of Sovereignty) amount to just nothing at all; because, as a Sovereign, God may promise one thing, and intend, nay do another, or the contrary; nor can they prove, or have they the least Assurance, he will not thus deal with them, without recurring to other Principles, which will hold equally strong against the Doctrines themselves--To this Dilemma are these Gentlemen inevitably reduced; they must either give up the Doctrines, or part with any Security of Dependance on God himself, as to their own Happiness. It will be _in vain_, here, to refer to the _Goodness of God_, though, on _my_ Principles, the Argument would be unanswerable; on _theirs_, it is _stark naught_, and avails nothing. And pray observe the _double Dealing_ this reduces them to; it is something like setting up _two Gods_ instead of one, or, which is much the same, ascribing to the _eternal, unchangeable Being_, an inconsistent and contrary Conduct. Here is, _first_, a _mere_ arbitrary Being, that decrees, or pretends to decree, by mere _Sovereign Pleasure_ only, the Salvation of the _Elect;_ but, because such a Being may as well break his Promise as keep it, here is _another_ to make _good_ the Promise, who invariably acts according to the moral Fitness of Things: Or, if you take it the other way, here is, 1_st_, A Promise made as a mere _Sovereign_, undetermined by, and unregardful of, _all_ moral Obligations; and, 2_dly_, The Performance of this Promise is expected, from a Principle of Justice and Goodness; ever conformable _to_ the moral Reason and Fitness of Things: And certainly, in either Case, it leaves Things very precarious; nor can the Promises of such a Being as this (I speak it with all possible Reverence to the true God himself) be any thing near so valuable, or fit to be depended on, as the Engagements of a good and worthy Man. And whatever these Gentlemen, to put a more plausible Out-side on their Doctrines, say, concerning the Freedom and Excellence of that State, wherein our first Father _Adam_ was created, and the _Possibility_ of his having remained perfectly innocent, and the Blessings of eternal Life, which would have been thence derived to all his Posterity, it is plain to me, they generally believe no such thing; but that, on the contrary, God absolutely _willed_ and _decreed_ the _Fall of Adam_, Mr. _Cole_ himself, their great Advocate, is far from supposing the Condition of _Adam_ to have been proper for abiding long in Obedience to the Divine Command, or that, had he stood, his Posterity would have thence become _impeccable_ and _happy:_ on the contrary, he represents _Adam's_ Condition as a very weak and imperfect State, by no mean suited to the Temptations, which his Maker knew he would shortly be exposed to, and overcome with; and all his Posterity, _had they been tried one by one, would_, it seems, _have failed as he did_, Page 72. If all this does not amount to something equal to a positive Assertion, that God _willed_ the Fall of Adam, and in Consequence of it, the Guilt and Desert of eternal Death, which is said to be thence derived, to _all_ his prosperity, I do not know what is, or can be equal to it; and indeed all this, and much more, may easily be resolved into the Doctrine of God's _Sovereignty:_ and whoever thinks I have misrepresented their Faith, need only consult their great apostle Mr. _Calvin_. But let me further pursue my Argument, to prove, that tho' a Man of this _Faith_ has God's _own Word_ for his Election and Salvation, he cannot, on this Principle of _mere Sovereignty_, reasonably or safely depend on it: My Reason, which is short and plain, I have already given; because God, as a _Sovereign_, may do just what he pleases, _keep_ his Promises, or _break_ them. There can be no Possibility of evading this Argument, without coming back to the Goodness of God; which is at once to set aside mere _Sovereign_ Pleasure, and evidently recurring to the moral Fitness of Things. As much as these Gentlemen are pleased to despise this moral Fitness, and superstitiously exalt the mere Will of God in Opposition thereto; and if the _Goodness_ of God proves, that he _cannot_ break the Promise he has made to them of eternal Life; it is at least as strong a Proof to me, that such a good Being _could not_ possibly make me for eternal Misery, or, which is the very same Thing, will or decree the Fall of _Adam_, and pass the Sentence of eternal Death on all his Posterity; the far greatest Part of whom he leaves, in this Condition, to perish everlastingly, and _miserable_ me among the rest! A Due Survey of the two Cases, or Conditions, of the Elect and Non-elect, may serve to set this Matter in a clear Light, God being in himself antecedent to the Existence of all other Beings, infinitely glorious and happy, could have no Occasion for Creatures to add to his Blessedness; all that we call _evil_, such as Cruelty and Injustice in Man, ever arises from such a _vicious_ and _imperfect_ State of Mind, as cannot, for that Reason, possibly belong to _Deity_. As the Sources, therefore, whence these Evils arise, cannot be in God; such a Conduct, as these Doctrines suppose, is also equally impossible to proceed from God, whose _only Intent_ in creating must be, to communicate Happiness to his Creatures: Creation infers Providence, and to bring a sensible rational Being into this World; and, instead of taking _due Care_ of its Safety and Happiness, to _decree_ and render it eternally miserable, is in its _own Nature_, much worse than making an absolute Promise of eternal Life to any created being, and _disappointing that Being_ of its Happiness, whether by annihilation, or by changing it to another State, or Mode of Being, no more happy than the present mortal Life; 'tis only a Breach of Promise, which, in such a _Sovereign_, is a mere trifle. We have _no natural_ Right to Immortality, _much_ less to immortal Happiness; it is the mere Effect of Divine Bounty--But, being created in a weak, dependent State, and surrounded with Wants and Infirmities, we _have_ a _natural Right_ to the Care and Protection of our Maker; and tho' we allow, no _formal Promise_ is made on our Behalf, yet the _very act_ itself, of creating such Beings, and the Condition we _are_ placed in, contains in it the _Substance_ of a Promise; and we may be assured, God will have proper Regard to such Beings. If God be gracious enough to _give_ eternal Life, to which we have not the _least_ natural Right, can he possibly with-hold that which, from our Make and Dependance on him, we have just Reason to expect? and how Much more impossible is it, that he should make us for everlasting Misery! To make _one Man_ for Damnation, is much worse, than promising eternal Life to another, and breaking that Promise; he that does the former, cannot be depended on in the latter. Methinks, the very Creation itself, and bountiful Provision therein made, for the Accommodation and Happiness of Man, might assure us, that (Man being made principally for another World) a _proportionate Care_ will be taken of his more important and everlasting Concerns. Which presents me with a fair Opportunity, of exposing a Notion these Gentlemen hold, or a Method they have, of interpreting such plain Texts of Scripture, as are brought to prove God's general Care and Providence over his whole Creation; in _particular_, where _David_ says, "The tender Mercies of the Lord are over all his Works:" This, if you believe them, relates only to this Life; so I think Mr. _Gill_ says. But what then, Is no Inference thence to be made? If God be thus tender, to provide Temporals, how _much more_ will he be kind to the Soul, and provide for _that!_ 'Tis a natural and strong Way of arguing, and it was our Saviour's own Method of arguing, as the most Plain and Conclusive: "Wherefore if God so cloath the Grass of the Field, &_c_. How much more shall he cloath you, &_c_." _Mat_. vi. 30. The Argument rises in one Case, as much above the other, as _immortal Life_ is preferable to the present _mortal State;_ and suppose any of us should sympathise with a near Friend, under a _small Degree_ of Pain and Affliction, would not the same Spirit of Friendship and Humanity have a _stronger Sympathy_, when Affliction becomes more intense and severe? To be tender and pitiful in the least and lowest Matters, and unregardful and cruel in important and everlasting Concerns, is, with regard to the _Divine Being_, a moral Impossibility; 'tis _beneath_ human Nature and Prudence, and the Practice of a good Man; And yet these Doctrines teach this horrible impiety concerning the great God himself. To sum up this Argument: That Being who can make a sensible rational Creature, on _Purpose_ for _Damnation_, instead of taking a reasonable Care of it, which, from its Make and Dependance, it has a Right to expect, as much as though a formal Promise were made, may, with altogether as much (_nay more_) Justice, break its Promises of eternal Life, _made_ to another Creature of the same Kind; its Claim not being founded in Nature, but built on Promise. As the former would be a more cruel and un-justifiable Proceeding than the latter, he that is capable of doing the one, can have _no moral Perfections_ in his Nature sufficient to secure the _Elect_ against his doing the other: and on this _wild_ and _boundless_ Principle of _Sovereignty_, it is possible that, with regard to _Religion_, Things may be quite _reversed_ hereafter; the _Elect_, as they are called, made _miserable_, and the _Non-elect, happy_. I think we may challenge the whole World, to shew on this mad Principle the contrary; and why, as well as any thing else, such an Economy may not be resolved into _Sovereign Pleasure_. If God to _Isaac_ conveyed such errant Falshoods, by the Instrumentality of _Jacob's Mouth_, _Why not_ make the same _deceitful Use_ of the _Bible_, or even of his own immediate Word, in regard to the Elect? If God, as Mr. _Gill_ (I think) observes, has two Wills, "One publick Will of Command, and another of Intention, which is private;" Why, with regard to the _Elect_, may he not promise one thing, and intend, nay resolve on another? One would think it impossible, for any understanding Man to judge thus of his Creator, that it is possible he should command one Thing under the _severest Penalties_, and at the _same Time_ not only _will_ and _intend_, but irresistibly and secretly work to accomplish just the contrary, and (what is amazing beyond Belief) after all punish severely the Creatures concerned, whom he actuates to bring his secret Purposes to pass: If there can be such a thing as arbitrary Power and tyrannical Government, in the very worst Sense of all, here it is. And here certainly is all the _Phrensy_, _Folly_, and _Tyranny_, which, I told you in the Beginning, the Government of such an arbitrary Being (as these Gentlemen represent the Deity to be) must ever be liable to. It is evident, that as worthy Sentiments of God and of Religion, better the Mind, and improve the Understanding; so do weak and superstitious Principles corrupt the intellectual Faculty, and render the Soul more blind and inhuman, than it is in its natural State, unassisted and unimproved by Divine Grace. I have the rather made choice of this Argument, not only because I have never seen it urged before, but because I think it more nearly affects Men of this Faith, than any I have hitherto met with. I may be mistaken; but while it has such weight with me, I cannot but earnestly recommend it to the serious and impartial Consideration of all who profess this Faith, more especially those who preach it publickly to the World; whose Acknowledgment of what I take to be Truth, or friendly Animadversions thereon, will be Matter of no small Satisfaction to me: But I must here enjoin one Caution, _viz_. that it will be a absolutely in vain to produce Texts of Scripture, till this Point is better settled between us. In the Art of evading Scripture Proofs, I allow these Gentlemen to be very skilful and expert; nor can I help believing, that a small Part of the Penetration and Dexterity, usually exercised on these Occasions, would, in Men of contrary Principles, or even in themselves, could they be persuaded to think differently, be abundantly sufficient to overthrow even the Doctrines themselves: They have a peculiar Talent, at misunderstanding; and perverting the plainest Text, and rendering those which are difficult and obscure in their literal Sense, with much Boldness, and without Hesitation; they stumble in a plain Path at Noon-Day, and walk carelessly at Midnight amongst Rock, and upon the most dangerous Precipices. And here I might safely rest the Argument, and make a final End of it. _Sovereignty_, such an one as they contend for, once proved, any thing whatever may be allowed to follow, and all Disputations will be utterly in vain. Allow but the _Roman Church_ its _Infallibility_, and the Truth of other Doctrines will unavoidably follow. Till these Gentlemen, I say, set my main Principles aside, all the Scripture in the World will be nothing to their Purpose. Not but in the main the _Bible_ is against them; for the Scriptures _reveal_ God's Being and Attributes _more clearly_ than they do most Points of Doctrine: the Reason is, because the Doctrines commonly embraced, are in themselves _not so plain_ to Reason, as the Being and Attributes of God; the latter being generally acknowledged in all Christian Churches, tho' at the same Time they widely differ about particular Doctrines, some of which have no doubt been greatly corrupted in passing through _various Hands_ and Translations: and I have been informed, by much better Judges than I pretend to be, that the _New Testament_, even in these very Doctrines I have been contending against, has, by _some Partiality_ or _Neglect_, been made to speak more roundly in their Favour, than the original _Greek_, or best Copies, will support; and that, in some Places, the Meaning of the Original is inverted in the Translation. The Scripture not only revealing to us the _Being_ and _Attributes_ of God, _more clearly_ than it does many Doctrines, and that Fundamental of all true Religion being also in itself perfectly agreeable to the Light of Nature; 'tis evident, we are bound to reject the most positive Text of Scripture militating against this everlasting and fundamental Truth: and rather than part with this, we had much better suppose the Writer, as to disputable Points, to have been mistaken at the first, or the true Meaning corrupted by others. The Translators are allowed to have been fallible Men, and 'tis very probable some Errors might creep in at that Door: But it will not so easily be granted, that the _inspired Writers_ could mistake, nor would I suppose it, unless in _very extraordinary Cases_, where either _that_ or something _worse_ must be supposed; and such a Supposition will, I am sure; much better become us, than to imagine it possible for God to make a Revelation of his Will to Man, which shall upon Examination be found _contrary_ to his Being and Goodness, as well as expressly contrary to other _plain Parts_ of this Revelation, Tho' the Argument, I say, might be safely rested here, yet as there are some well meaning Persons, who believe that _Adam_ was made upright, and furnished with a Stock of Strength and Understanding, sufficient to _preserve_ his Innocence; that God made a Covenant with him, as our _Federal_ or _Representative Head_, wherein it was stipulated, that if he continued upright, during the Time of Probation allotted, _all_ his Posterity should be _for ever_ happy; but that if he fell, _all_ should be _subject_ to everlasting Misery, as the counter Part of the Covenant; and he falling, the Restoration of his fallen Race should be intirely owing to the good Pleasure of God, who might _redeem all_ or only _a Part_, and leave the rest to perish in the State wherein he found them, and in which _Adam_ had involved them by his Transgression: This they call _Preterition_, or a _Passing by_, which sounds a little better than that harsh Word _Reprobation_, tho' in reality no better at all: And on this first Transgression _some_ found the Doctrine of _Election_, and others that of _Infant-Baptism_, as an Expedient to wash away this original Guilt; and it must be owned, the Virtue of the Remedy is admirably well suited to the Malignity of the Disease. I shall, for their sakes, inspect a little farther into the Affair; to me it appears unreasonable, and therefore improbable, that God should make with _Adam_ any such Covenant or Agreement, or suffer the eternal State of all Mankind to hang upon the single Thread of _one Man's_ Behaviour, and who too (it seems) God knew would swerve from his Obedience: besides, in all equitable Covenants, _every Party_ concerned has a Right to be consulted, nor can they be justly included to their own Detriment, without Consent first obtained, (especially if the Thing covenanted for, has an immediate, or may have a very fatal, tho' very remote, Tendency, to make _wretched_ and _unhappy_) which, in this Case, with regard to the Unborn, could not possibly be had. I am sensible the Gentlemen against whom I am arguing (especially Mr. _Gill_) have many pretty Inventions, to justify such a Conduct in the Divine Being, such as producing parallel Instances, drawn from the allowed Practice of Men, and Usage of the State; in particular, the Law relating to _High-Treason_, whereby a _Rebel's_ immediate Descendants are _deprived_ of inheriting their Father's Estate, with others of a like Kind; to all which, what I am about to offer may, I hope, be a sufficient Answer: The two Cases differ so widely, that it will be no easy Undertaking to make any Thing of this Instance in their Favour; and 'tis very surprising, to find Men of the brightest Intellects, so weak as to argue and infer, from the Laws of _Fallible Men_, to the Laws of an _Infallible_ and _Holy Being:_ The Inference ought rather to be just the Reverse; for such Institutions as Men, in this weak and imperfect State, may think convenient for their own Sakes, and the Good of Society, to establish and ordain, can be _no Rule_ to him, whose Infinite Wisdom and Almighty Power set him _far above_ all such Necessity. Nor, again, does this Case come up to the Matter in Dispute: It is true, that the Heir of a convict Rebel _cannot_, according to our Laws, inherit his Father's Estate; but what then, does it deprive him of any thing that was his own before? No; the Law convicts the Rebel, while _in Possession_ of his Estate, which it considers as his _own Property_, and which therefore it justly takes away for his _own Offence_. Perhaps, in Cases of Hereditary Possessions, it may seem a little hard, because it prevents the _next_ Heir from inheriting; but if there be any Evil or Imperfection in this, we must excuse it, for the Sake of the Intent, which might be for the general Good, the more effectually to deter Men from _treasonable Conspiracies_ against their Prince, whereby the Happiness of Society hath been often greatly disturbed, and whole Kingdoms and Countries depopulated: but in this Case, it is not strictly the Heir's, till he comes into Possession; for the Law, by which he may possess hereafter, may be considered as having in it this _particular_ Exception, as to the Crime of _High-Treason_, which, whenever it _occurs_ as to the _Parent_, renders the Son incapable, &_c_. With regard to our Laws, we may, in some Sense, be said to make them ourselves, by our Representatives, whom we constitute for that End: and 'tis besides very probable, that some great Men, who formerly possessed Estates, and settled them on the Male Heirs in their Families, from one Generation to another, might help to make this very Law itself concerning Treason, and consequently they could not but acquiesce with this _very Exception_ to the Right of Inheritance in their Posterity. But if it be still said to be unjust, though necessary, 'tis no Argument; for it _cannot_ be unjust and necessary too: the Law, in this Case, ought rather (with Submission) so far as it unjustly affects a Man's Children, to be alter'd; and if it robs us of the Security, which arises from deterring the Parent, on Account of the Evils which shall afterwards befall his Child, 'tis easy to remedy this, by laying an _additional Punishment_ on the Traitor himself; which, as _Self_ is much nearest to us all, might better prevent the Sin of Rebellion, If the present Law be just in itself, there can be no Objection to it; if it be unjust, _no Argument_ of any Weight can be drawn from it, in regard to the _Divine Being;_ who is holy, wise, and true, and so are all his Appointments concerning the Children of Men. To bring this kind of Reasoning of theirs up to the Point, they should have produced a Law, which subjected the Son (for the Father's Offence) to the _same corporal_ Punishment with the Father, and then also they must have proved such a Law to be just and good. But, as these Gentlemen are so fond of bringing Instances from the _Practice of Men_ in this frail State, in Justification of their own Doctrine, I shall present them with one or two of my own. _Murder_ has sometimes been committed under such Circumstances, that though the Murderer has been arraigned, there hath been no room to condemn him, all Circumstances having concurred, in the Eye of the Law, to acquit him; _will the Almighty therefore acquit him?_ Again, on the other hand, in the Case of Murder, things have so fallen out, as to make an innocent Person look like the Murderer, in the Eye of the Law or Court, which has therefore sometimes proceeded to Death itself; _is this Man therefore guilty before God?_ I have put these two Cases, purely to shew the Absurdity of such kind of Arguments: and I hope they will consider better of it, and advance them no farther. If there was such a Covenant between God and Adam, 'tis strange _no Notice_ should be taken of it in the Law given to _Adam_, as laid down in the _Bible_, and where, of all Places, we have most Reason to expect it--this must surely have been the fittest Place for its Insertion--Nor is it only absent here, for there is no positive Account of any such Covenant in all the _Old Testament_. Besides, when the Law was given, and threatening (in Case of Disobedience) pronounced on _Adam_, 'twas _merely personal_--_In the Day_ thou _eatest thereof_, thou _shalt surely die_. And when _Adam_ and _Eve_ had broke the Command, and God descended to judge them for it, their Sentences were _personal_ and _particular_, and no reproaching _Adam_ on the Account of Evils to be thence brought on his Posterity, and _much less_ of eternal Damnation. The _Jews_ indeed, many of whom were weak enough to embrace any Absurdity at all, had by some Means contracted a Notion, not altogether unlike this of _original Sin_, probably from a Misunderstanding of the second Commandment, which speaks of "visiting the Iniquity of the Father upon the Children, &_c_." But 'tis highly worthy of our Notice, that God himself was _greatly displeased_ with their having imbibed this Notion, and commanded the Prophet _Ezekiel_ to refute it at large; the Substance of which I cannot avoid setting down, it being so full to my Purpose. The Prophet introduces it thus, _Ezek_, xviii. 2. _What mean ye, that use this Proverb in Israel, The Fathers have eaten sour Grapes, and the Children Teeth are set on edge?_ Ver. 4. _Behold all Souls are mine, as the Soul of the Father, so also the Soul of the Son is mine: the Soul that sinneth, it shall die_. The Prophet then, from _ver_. 5. to 19. puts the _two Cases_ of a _righteous Man's_ having a _wicked Son_, and a _wicked Man's_ having a _righteous Son_, in order to shew, that neither is the one _better_ for his Father's Uprightness, nor the other at all _worse_ for his Father's Wickedness; but that all is, as it should be, placed to the Account of their own _Merits_ or _Demerits_. Ver. 20. _The Soul that sinneth, it shall die: the Son shall not bear the Iniquity of the Father, neither shall the Father bear the Iniquity of the Son; the Righteousness of the Righteous shall be upon him, and the Wickedness of the Wicked shall be upon him_. Ver. 23. _Have I any Pleasure at all that the Wicked should die? saith the Lord God: and not that he should return from his Ways and live?_ Ver. 25. _Yet ye say, the Way of the Lord is unequal. Hear now, O House of Israel, Is not my Way equal? are not your Ways unequal?_ Ver. 32. _For I have no Pleasure in the Death of him that dieth, saith the Lord God: wherefore turn your selves and live ye_. Words more positive against this Doctrine cannot be laid together. _Justice_ and _Equity_ are here, by the Almighty himself, consider'd as the _very same_, both in God and Man; and the same Justice and Equity, which _He commands_ us to make the Rule of _our Actions_, 'tis evident _He here_ makes the Rule of his _own_. He blames them for their false Principles, their Ignorance and Bigotry, and is not a little offended, because they thought him capable of acing in so evil and unrighteous a Manner, as that would be, of _punishing the Child for the Parent's Offence;_ and strongly and solemnly assures them, he will do no such Thing. And as Justice and Equity would not bear it then, it is plain that, God could never take any such cruel and disreputable Measures, either in the Beginning, or at any time afterwards; because, to act thus at the Creation of Man, and disdain the Imputation with Indignation afterwards, argues a strange Inconsistency in the Conduct of God towards Men; but the Truth is, the same Reasons which made him abhor the Imputation afterwards, could not but infallibly prevent his making any such unrighteous Covenant in the Beginning. What would you think of a Man, who is a Villain to-day, and boasts much of his great Honesty tomorrow? The _Appearance_ of _Christ_ in the Flesh was, we are told by these Gentlemen, on Account of _Adam's_ Transgression, without which it would have been, they say, wholly superfluous. But the Expediency or End of _Christ's_ coming, may be resolved into the _Love of_ God, on the _one hand;_ pitying the Ignorance and Folly of Mankind, on the _other:_ and whether this State was the Effect of _Adam's_ Sin, or of their _own_ personal Demerits, it makes _no Difference_ in this Case. Whoever looks carefully into the Evangelists, will find abundant Reason to disapprove and condemn this Doctrine of _Original Sin_, and of _Christ's_ coming into the World on _that Account only_. Our Saviour, had this been the Case, would either have plainly express'd, or have given some strong Intimations concerning it: Yet no such thing appears; but the contrary, to a _Demonstration_, from no less than two Passages of Scripture, recorded by St. _Mark_, (ix. 36.) When the Disciples had been privately contending for Preheminence above each other, our Saviour, to rebuke this aspiring Spirit, sets before them, as a Pattern of Simplicity and Innocence, a little Child; which must have been very absurd, according to the Notion of _Original Sin:_ The second is _Mark_ x. _ver_. 13. 14. 15. 16. where _Christ_ assures his Disciples, that, in order to enter into the Kingdom of Heaven, they _must become as little Children_. And in St. _Matthew_ (xviii. _ver_. 3.) this very thing is, if possible, more _Strongly_ and _Emphatically_ express'd. Which Declarations, had there been such a Thing as the Guilt of Original Sin, _subjecting Children to_ God's _Wrath and Displeasure_, would have been ungrounded, and erroneous in a high Degree; for if they were to become like such a little Child, as a necessary and fit Condition for Heaven, the Condition of Infants _must also_ be suitable to that Blessed Place--_Suffer little Children to come unto me, and forbid them not, for of such is the Kingdom of Heaven_. The Word Such, is a general Term, equally applicable to all Infants whatever: it shews their Innocence, and how acceptable they are to the Almighty; and, consequently, demonstrates the Doctrine of _Original Sin_ to be Spurious and Erroneous: as is also the Practice of _Infant Baptism_, in Support of which, this very Text is wisely alledged; whereas the Text itself assures us, that Children are _already_, by Nature, in that _same State_ of Innocence, which _Baptism_ is design'd to procure them: and how vain the Ceremony, under such a Circumstance, must be, is _too evident_ to need Explaining. But suppose there was such a Covenant, our Condition, in point of Innocence, is just the same as it would be without it; we could have no manner of Concern with _Adam's_ Transgression: and our Innocence in either Case being _exactly_ the same, God cannot but look upon us (in our natural State, before we commit Sin) as Creatures that never did any thing to offend him, and consequently be gracious and kind to us; for to leave us in this State, to suffer everlasting Torment, is worse than a Breach of Promise made to the Elect; and if we are as innocent, as tho' no such Covenant had ever been made, God cannot but regard us accordingly: and this proves that such a Covenant could never be made, because to no good or valuable End. I am fearful of swelling this Pamphlet, beyond its intended Bounds; yet so fast do my Thoughts, on this Subject, multiply and enlarge themselves, that I must beg Leave to Say a small Matter, concerning that _Propensity to Evil_, which we are told is derived from _Adam_, as a Fruit and Proof of his first and original Offence. If _Adam_'s Sin had this Influence on his Posterity; as the Act, which produced it, was _one_ and the _same;_ and all his Posterity standing in the same Relation to him, as their Federal Head; 'tis evident, in this View of the Matter, that _this_ Bias to Evil, must in _all_ be _uniform_ and _alike:_ but the contrary seems demonstrable, from undoubted and incontestable Experience; some Children having _much stronger Propensities to Evil_, than others: And if Part of this can be resolved into something besides the _Influence_ of _Adam's first Transgression_, and _subsequent_ to the _Fall;_ it lies (I think) on our Adversaries to shew clearly, why every Propensity to Sin, may not likewise be resolved into something besides, and _subsequent_ to, this _original Transgression_. But allowing we are born into the World, with this _Propensity to Evil_, and that we derive it from _Adam's_ Sin; yet if God be _merciful_, he could never leave us in this deplorable Condition; nor would his _Impartiality_ admit of _redeeming_ the one Part of Mankind in a mere arbitrary Manner, and _leaving_ the other _to perish_. Nor can much Righteousness be expected from the _Justice_ of that Being, whose Mercy can be an idle and unconcerned Spectator, in so very moving, piteous, and Miserable a Circumstance. As to _Adam's_ Posterity, where is the Difference to them, whether their present weak and despoiled Condition (as these Men deem it) be the immediate Work of _Creation_ itself, or the _Effect_ of _Adam's Sin_, and Abuse of his intellectual Powers. We are what we are by _Necessity_, strict _Necessity:_ and though it may be called _moral Necessity_, in order to palliate and distinguish it from that which is natural; it operates on us, to all Intents and Purposes, equally the same; and the giving it a milder Name, looks like a sophistical Artifice. If Man's Nature be impaired by the Act of another, God, as a _just_ and _good_ Being, will either abate of the Rigour of his original Law, or replenish and restore our decayed Powers. The _same Goodness_ (if these Gentlemen will allow it was _Goodness_) which prompted the Almighty to make Man such an excellent and blessed Creature in the Beginning, must also prevail with him, to look even on _Adam_ himself with an Eye of Pity and Compassion, after he had sinned; and much more must he be inclined to provide for the _Restoration_ of his Off-spring, who themselves had not _actually_ sinned, but yet had their Natures impaired by the _Fall_. Besides, if Man was first enslaved by the Devil, not of _Force_, but by _Fraud_ and _Temptation;_ and Jesus Christ be a kind of _Chieftain_, set up against Antichrist; his Method of _Recovery_ must be as extensive as the _Fall_--Why does he save some? but as they are Objects of Mercy, and to recover, with a just Indignation, Souls, originally God's own, out of the Hand of an Usurper, Tyrant, and Destroyer. How can these Reasons operate as to a Part, and have no Influence as to the Remainder? The more I reflect upon the Doctrine, and view it in every light, the more terrifying and deformed it appears: and there is no Argument, short of God's _Sovereignty_, that will relieve the Difficulty; which admitted, will bring on and multiply ten thousand greater Evils. It may here be proper to take notice of a new Argument, urged in its full Strength, and with all the Advantage of Rhetorick and Eloquence, by the most ingenious Dr. _I--c W--s_, in a Book intituled, _The Ruin and Recovery of Mankind;_ &_c_. We are there told, that this _covenant_ seems to have been, evidently, calculated for the best; because _Adam_, in that State of Understanding and Innocence, was more likely to stand, and maintain his Innocence, than any of his Posterity, especially when he consider'd himself as acting for _all_ his Posterity; with which the Doctor supposes him to have been fully and strongly apprised; as indeed he ought, had the Case been as the Doctor believes. This Argument I take him to have mistaken both ways, _viz_. by extolling _Adam's_ Condition, on the one hand, beyond what in reality it ever was, and setting that of his Posterity much lower than it really is: and these Errors are productive of many others. _Adam_ is supposed to have been without any Pain, or Uneasiness, and that he would so have remained, during his Innocence: But after Christ has removed the Curse, and taken away the Sin of his own _Chosen_ Children, bodily Pains and outward Afflictions are sometimes their Lot, why might not Man, in his original State of Innocence, be subject, in some Degree, to Pain and Disease? if _Creation_ were inconsistent with such a mixt Dispensation of Good and Evil, why not _Redemption?_ If God, for the Exercise of Man's Fidelity, placed him where he was exposed to the Evil and Danger of Temptation; why not suffer his Patience to be exercised, at some Seasons, by Pain and Inquietude? To return to this _Covenant_, could it be proved to have been as the Doctor imagines, I see not what could be gained by it: because it would be trifling to a considerable Degree. And all the Arguments, used by _Milton_, in his third Book of _Paradise Lost_, to shew the Absurdity of that Doctrine, which considers _Adam_ as _acting_, or rather as _being acted, by Necessity_, in that Situation of Paradise, would be equally applicable to all the Elect, under the absolute Slavery of the _Fall_. Where is the Use of _Reason_, or _Moral Agency_, in Man, if another be substituted to act in his Stead, and not he himself? Man, being made a _free_ and _moral_ Agent, has Power to act for himself, and can be accountable for no body's Crimes but his own. The _Consciousness_ of being a Sinner, belongs only to him, that _actually_ sinneth, or omitteth his Duty. Enthusiasm indeed, which, in its highest Stages, is a kind of spiritual Madness, may have on some Minds a quite different Effect; and the Poor Soul, that is subject to this gloomy and tyrannical Principle, may conceit strange things; it may at one Time imagine itself under the Guilt of _Adam's_ Sin, which it never committed; and fancy itself a Saint in Jesus Christ (and what not) at another: it is a mad Principle, fruitful of false Doctrines, Chimeras, and Monsters. It matters not whether (as in the Case of _Natural Madness_) the Reason be lost, or whether (as in that of _Enthusiasm_) it be over-power'd, and brought into subjection to False Principles. The Effect is the same; and between Powers that are suffered to lie dormant, and no Powers at all, there is here no material Distinction to be made. Again, this Notion of _Adam's_ being more likely to stand than his Posterity, is a mere Fallacy: it supposes a Difference of State, and Rectitude of Mind, between him and us; which, if true, will likewise suppose, that our State being more weak and defenceless than his, the Task or Duty, assigned us, must be proportionate to our different and inferior Abilities. If _Adam_ was put into this State, as _The Ruin and Recovery_ seems to suppose, from a Motive of Love in God, to his Creatures, in order to prevent the Misery of the Human Race; the same Love cannot fail to commiserate the Case, and to provide an effectual Remedy for all such as are included in the Covenant. _Adam's_ Motive to Obedience must (we are told) have been greatly strengthened by this Consideration, That on _Him_ depended the Happiness, not of _himself_ only, but of _all his Posterity_. But, I believe, Experience will tell us, that if the Consideration of a Man's own Future State, placed in the strongest Light (as this Book supposes before _Adam_) be not sufficient to move to Obedience, a Regard to others will seldom have any considerable Influence: Such a Covenant enter'd into, or rather arbitrarily imposed on _Adam_ by his Maker, could not fail to awaken, in so holy and knowing a Creature, some very uneasy and disquieting Suspicions. This Covenant, and _Partial Election_ thence following after the _Fall_, will, if rightly considered, appear very iniquitous and oppressive: because it makes no proper Difference between the _Righteous_ and the _Wicked_. If _Adam_ had been considered as a private Person only; and _all his Posterity_ left to stand or fall, by their own Merits or Demerits; some of those, whom this Doctrine adjudges to everlasting Condemnation, would doubtless have been so _wise_ and _happy_, as to have pleased God in their Generation; while others, on the contrary, would have sinned, and transgressed his Laws. The State of the latter is, you see, the same as it would have been, upon the vulgar Notion of _Adam's Sin;_ or rather the Guilt of it being, in virtue of this Covenant, imputed to them: The other and better Part, in virtue of this Doctrine, are miserable, and must therefore have abundant and bitter Cause of Complaint against the Doctrine itself. I therefore think it was impossible, such a Covenant should ever be proposed to _Adam;_ a Covenant which, if ratified, tended only to make those wretched and miserable, who without it, had they been left to shift for themselves, would have used their Liberty and Rational Powers aright, and have pleased and obtained God's Favour thereby. To talk of its being of general Service, can never be of sufficient Authority to silence this Argument. No _private Injuries_ can be excused to _innocent Sufferers_ (and much less that of _eternal Torment_) on the Score of general Good; what is it to them, whether _they only_, or _all Mankind_ suffer. If _Adam_ had stood, these very Men, (who would, had they been left to their Liberty, have proved obedient) would have been in no wise bettered; as he failed, Misery came on those, who would otherwise have been happy. As to those who would, in the Course of their Liberty, have sinned; this Covenant, had _Adam_ stood, would ('tis true) have saved them from the Sentence of _Condemnation_. Take it again the other way: _Adam's Fall_ could make no Alteration in the State of those who, without it, would have been Sinners; such as would have proved virtuous and happy, are hereby made miserable. These are, or must have been the Consequences of such a Covenant strictly observed; and the Wisdom and Equity of all Covenants must be judged of, by comparing the good and evil Consequences, necessarily resulting from them. All the Good such a Covenant could possibly pretend to, had it been kept, was, the saving from Wrath such as, without it, would, as free Beings, have sinned; and if, for their Sakes, and to prevent the Evil that might otherwise befall them, such a Covenant was worthy of God to make with Man, a Day of Grace and Salvation, extended for their Recovery, after they might have transgressed, would have been equally worthy of God; and we need not recur to such Fictions and Chimeras. One would think it incumbent on all Legislators, to consider well the Consequences of every Law they enact; for the preferring a Law, whose Consequences can at best be of no Service, and will probably in the main Event of Things be more evil and pernicious than otherwise, would be preferring Evil to Good; in as great Proportion as the Evil might exceed the Good: and how such a Constitution could be better for Mankind, I do not understand. I am sorry any body, especially the Author of _The Ruin and Recovery_, should imbibe and defend such erroneous Opinions, and this too, in Opposition to other and nobler Sentiments of his own, elsewhere delivered. But, thus it is to be enslaved to the mere Letter of the _Bible_, under a Notion of doing it _just Honour_, when, on the contrary, 'tis the ready way to _dishonour_ and _lessen_ its Authority. The Pains which Infants suffer, and the many Miseries to which they are exposed, are, by this Gentleman, consider'd as so many Arguments of the Guilt of _Original Sin_. He thinks that, without such a Supposition, the _Justice_ of God cannot be vindicated. [I wish he would stick true to that Argument.] We must, he thinks, suppose one of these two Things: either, _That God punishes them without all Cause or Reason_, or, _That they are under the Curse and Condemnation of_ Adam'_s Sin:_ and the latter is, in his Opinion, the best Sentiment. But I am of a contrary Opinion, and think that in either Case, the _Injustice_ is the same. He _allows_ it in the _one Case;_ and I hope it is _proved_ in the other: and really the Picture which this Gentleman has drawn of our young Innocents, is very dreadful and terrifying. If all the _Evils_ that befall them in this Life, and _Eternal Damnation_ afterwards, be no more than a _just_ Punishment for their _Sins_, our _Saviour_ must surely have been _greatly out_, in the Encomiums he bestows on their _Innocence_, as I observed before; or, the Kingdom of Heaven, instead of being design'd for _upright holy Souls_, may be a Receptacle for the worst of human Race. The Brute Creation undergo Pain and Affliction; is _Adam's_ Sin, therefore, imputed to them? If not, and they sometimes suffer by Pain and Abuse, why may not Infants do the same? The Miseries of the human Race, reckon'd up and aggravated thro' so many elaborate Pages, cannot all of them be supposed to belong to the _Original Constitution_ of Things, but might be partly owing to the Effect of Time and Accident, as well as to the Folly and Wickedness of particular Persons and Nations. This Objection, drawn from the Sufferings of Brute Animals, the Doctor endeavours to answer: I wonder _Adam_ is not considered (for the sake of putting an End to the Difficulty) as their Federal Head. He thinks, however, that Brutes must be some way or other included in the _Curse;_ and may be punished, as Man's Property: But has Man, because they are his Property, a Right to grieve and afflict them? They were bestowed as a Blessing, for reasonable Service and Delight, not for cruel Treatment and Abuse. The Doctor's Rule of Faith will tell him, _A merciful Man will be merciful to his Beast_. If their being Man's Property will not justify him in abusing or cruelly handling them; it can be no Reason or Argument, why another should do it, even the Almighty himself. Consider Beasts, then, as God's own Property; will that render it a whit more equitable? No: This the Doctor himself, in the Case of Infants, allows would be cruel, and contrary to the Divine Justice and Goodness: and the Argument is the same as to Brutes. But the Doctor, sensible of the Weakness of this Argument, has recourse to another, which I believe will always be admired as a standing Mark of _extraordinary Invention_, to get rid of difficult and perplexing Questions. Brutes may, it seems, contrary to common Experience, have Sensations _less Quick_ and _Painful_ than ours. I wonder he allows them any Sensation at all; nay, 'tis doubtful if he does allow it. Noise, or Crying out, in them, is, it seems, no Mark of Pain, because some Brutes, under the same Circumstance, remain quiet and still. But will the Doctor say, they have therefore no painful Sensations? Are there no Marks of Pain besides those of crying aloud? Did the Doctor never know a Man sometimes bear a pretty deal of Pain without crying out at all; and give many external Tokens of Pain, at another Time? Did he never perceive a _gaul'd Horse_ wince, upon the most gentle Approach of the Hand; and discover Signs of the greatest Fear, and most _exquisite Pains?_ Do not some Brutes take as much Pains to avoid the Discipline of the Whip, as tho' their Sensations were the same as ours? I am ashamed to waste Time upon such a Subject; tho' I hope to be pardoned for following so great a Man in his own Method of arguing. He perhaps may continue of the same Mind, and there may be no Hopes of Convincement, till Brutes are taught to speak. By this new Way of Reasoning, the Ground we tread upon, and every Thing around us, hitherto thought Inanimate, may be full of Cogitation. If affording the common Marks of Sensation, be no Proof, that Brutes have it in a common Degree, Wanting the common Marks of Intelligence, can be no Proof that a Stock or a Stone has it not. If I mistake not, Bishop _Berkley_ has furnished the World with something equally instructive and philosophical, in relation to the Existence of Matter; which, he endeavours to prove _not_ to be a _real_, but an _ideal_ and _imaginary Being_. I shall leave others to guess, in what Condition those must be, who think and reason after this extraordinary Manner. But the Doctor has yet another Argument in reserve, to vindicate God's Justice--_Tho' Brutes suffer, yet they may_ it seems _have upon the whole more Pleasure than Pain_. But do not some Brutes partake very deeply of the former, in this Life; will the Doctor therefore suppose a Future State for them, by way of Compensation? But this Argument ruins the whole Affair, and may be turned against the Doctor himself, in the Case of Infants, who may be made ample Amends in a future State, for the Evils sustained here, which Evils may have other Causes besides _Original Sin;_ for here again, as in the Case of a Propensity to Evil, Pain in Infants, if inflicted because of _Adam's Sin_, must in _all_ be _uniform_ and _alike_. But the Fact being quite otherwise, some of this Pain and Evil must be resolved into _other Causes;_ and if _some_, why not _all?_ I grant indeed, that _Adam_ himself might have so far corrupted his Nature, as to render him more liable to Pain, than in a State of true Innocence he might have been, and that therefore he might be instrumental to propagate the Seeds of several Diseases, to his Posterity: But had he never done this, his Successors might have done it; and _every Age_ has, perhaps, by Intemperance and Lasciviousness, been adding to the common Stock of human Diseases and Calamities: Propensities to Vice might also be propagated in the same Way, and that, and nothing besides, can (I think) account so well for their great and infinite Variety. The Doctor, with the rest of his Brethren, are perpetually urging those common-place Arguments, drawn from the Practice of Men; which in the general I have answer'd already: and, had I proper Leisure, it would be no difficult Matter to give a clear and distinct Answer to every one of them: And these very Gentlemen would, on other Occasions, had they no favourite Point to carry, reject such Reasoning with all the Contempt, and Indignation, it deserves. It is with some Reluctance, I find myself obliged to disapprove the Sentiments of such wise and worthy Grey Hairs, to whom the World hath been long and deeply indebted for his many excellent Services, both from the Pen and the Pulpit. I have read over Mr. _J--s_'s Book, in Answer to Taylor's _Free and Candid Examination;_ and tho' I have no personal Knowledge of that ingenious Gentleman, yet I hope he will permit me to say, 'Tis pity, great pity, that fine Talents (pardon the Expression) should be prostituted in the Defence of such an unholy and incongruous System of Religion. Superior Degrees of Learning and Knowledge are, in themselves, most excellent Things, and eminently serviceable, when rightly applied to the Honour and Defence of Truth: But, like a two edged Sword, they cut both ways, and are also too frequently employed in the Propagation of Error. While I am thus rendering _human Learning_, its just Tribute of Praise, _Truth_ requires, that I should be free to detect those little Arts, so often practised to deceive the Unwary, and misguide Mankind. As I am fully persuaded, the Generality of those Writers; who stick by this _Covenant_, and endeavour to vindicate the Honour, Justice, and Goodness of God therein, do it _only_ for Decency sake, _and to put_ (as I observed) _a more plausible Outside on their Doctrines;_ I think it incumbent on me to _detect_ this _equivocal_ Way of Writing, and shew, that while the Doctor is endeavouring to persuade you he _does not_ believe these Doctrines in their most _harsh_ and _severe_ Sense, there is Reason to suspect he does notwithstanding, _secretly_ and _strongly_, believe them in that _very Sense:_ nay, he seems to resolve _them_ very artfully into the _Sovereignty_ and _Majesty of God_. Any Man, who reads the Book, may perceive, how greatly the Doctor is _put to it_ for _Arguments_, to answer _Objections;_ and he himself knows it to be impossible to make any tolerable or reasonable Defence, of such unreasonable and unaccountable Doctrines: and therefore, lest his _own People_ should, from some Expressions, which, at first sight, might look as though he was arguing merely upon a Principle of _moral Fitness_, suspect his Sincerity, he has (Second Edition, _Page_ 274) given strong Intimations of his Faith, as follows: "The Doctrine of _Reprobation_, in the most _severe_ and _absolute_ Sense of it, stands in such a direct Contradiction to all our Notions of Kindness and Love to others, in which the _blessed God_ is set forth as our Example, that our Reason cannot tell how to receive it; yet if it were never so true, and never so plainly revealed in Scripture, it would only be a Doctrine which would require our humble Assent, and silent Submission to it; with awful Reverence of the Majesty and Sovereignty of the great God, &_c_." This proves, I think clearly, on what Authority the Doctor himself believes these _Doctrines;_ and whoever knows, how _common_ it is for Men of _this_ Faith, to make a specious Shew of reasoning with others on a Principle of moral Fitness, and among themselves, without Scruple, resolving all into mere _Sovereignty_, will not think I have been too forward or severe in my Observation. I _humbly_ presume, what I have offer'd against this Notion of _God's Sovereignty_, is a plain Confutation of the Doctor; and I here, with all due Submission, invite _him_, or any of his _Brethren_, to defend _the Doctrines;_ and _this Quotation_, against me. If they _do really_ resolve these Doctrines into _God's Sovereignty_, let them speak it out plainly; if they _do not_ believe them in this Sense, let them speak that out plainly too; that we may clearly understand, in what _determinate Sense_, they do believe them. The Doctor has taken a great deal of Pains to make the World believe, that Christ died for all Men, when it does not appear, that he himself believes any such thing. Hear him, _Page_ 89, "And methinks, when I take my justest Survey of this lower World, with all the Inhabitants of it, I can look upon it no otherwise, than as a huge and magnificent Structure in Ruins, and turned into a Prison, and a Lazar-house, or Hospital; wherein lie Millions of Criminals, and Rebels against their Creator, under Condemnation to Misery and Death, who are at the same time sick of a mortal Distemper, and disorder'd in their Minds, even to Distraction: Hence proceed those infinite Follies, which are continually practised here; and the righteous Anger of an offended God is visible in ten thousand Instances: yet there are Proclamations of Divine Grace, Health, and Life, sounding amongst them; either with a louder Voice, or in gentler Whispers, though very few of them take any Notice thereof. But of this great Prison, this Infirmary, there is here and there one who is called powerfully, by Divine Grace, and attends to the Office of Reconciliation, and complies with the Proposals of Peace; his Sins are pardoned, he is healed of his worst Distemper; and tho', his Body is appointed to go down to the Dust, for a Season, yet his Soul is taken upwards to a Region of Blessedness; while the Bulk of these miserable and guilty Inhabitants, perish in their own wilful Madness and by the just Executions of Divine Anger." As I have hitherto troubled the Reader with little Quotation, and it being now so necessary to let us into the _true Spirit_ of the Doctor's Belief, notwithstanding any seeming Appearance to the contrary, I hope to be pardoned. You perceive here, that all are called, but the _greatest Part_, in such a weak and imperfect Manner, that is out of _their Power_ to embrace the Call, and so they perish as _unavoidably_ and _unjustly_, as though no such Call were extended. The Distinction, which is here made between moral and natural Necessity, the Doctor thinks sufficient to silence all Objections, _Page_ 285. I have endeavour'd to shew the contrary, and I hope with better Success. Again, what the Doctor observes, _Page_ 245, is worthy of Notice,--"Though there must be a _very good Sense_, in which _Christ_ may be said to die for all Men, because the Scripture uses this Language; yet it does not follow, that the Doctrine of Universal Redemption is found there: I cannot find that Scripture once asserts that _Christ_ redeemed all Men, or _died_ to redeem them all." This is, I think, manifestly a _Contradiction_, and the Doctor, it seems, believes it, only because the Scripture, as he thinks, reveals it. Where is the Difference between _dying to save all Men_, and, _dying to redeem all Men?_ And yet _Jesus Christ_, it seems, did the one, but not the other. According to him (the Doctor) the Scripture assures us, that is, the Word of God assures us, both that _Christ did_, and that he _did not_ die to redeem all Mankind; which is a flat Contradiction. In what good Sense, I should be glad to know, could _Christ_ be said to _die_ for _all Men_, when God purposely, and peremptorily, _with-holds_ proper Assistances to restore the _greatest Part?_ If this be to die for _all Men_, it is certainly not in a good, but in a very bad Sense. But, perhaps, the _Doctor_ means, _that Man, consider'd in his primitive Rectitude, has Power sufficient to obey the Gospel as proposed to Sinners, and that_ Adam's _Posterity, consider'd as fallen in him, are under the same Obligation to keep the Law, as_ Adam _was_. But of this I have already taken due Notice, and therefore I need only put the Doctor in mind of a few Words of his, drop'd _Page_ 340, in his _Consideration of the State of dying Infants_. He thinks, "it would be by no Means agreeable, to have them condemned to a wretched Resurrection and eternal Misery, only because they were born of _Adam_, the original Transgressor." This is a rational Sentiment, and I wish it were well improved; for it is better to suppose them entering on a new State of Trial, or downright Annihilation to be their Portion: But what Havock does this Concession make with the Doctor's other Doctrines, of _Christ's dying for all Men in a good Sense, of considering us in point of Obligation to keep the Law inviolable, the same as Adam was before his Fall;_ of God's either granting _no Aids_ to enable us to _do this_, or such _as are too weak and insufficient to enable us thereto!_ We are, he allows, _under a moral Incapacity to keep the Law_, but not a _natural_ Incapacity, and therefore God may justly exact our Obedience. But pray consider, if both a _moral_ and _natural_ Ability be requisite to keep God's Laws, what signifies which of these is wanting, when we may as well be without _both_, as without _either_. It signifies little, what Epithets we bestow on the Word _Necessity_. Wherever it prevails; and whether it be _moral_ or _natural_, if it is not _self-caused_, but comes on Man, either by the immediate Decree of Heaven, or by the _Act of another_, it is _Necessity_, _irresistible Necessity_, and no Distinction can palliate it. I allow indeed, when Man is created upright, and furnished with sufficient Understanding and Ability to please the Almighty; and yet, _abusing_ his Liberty, becomes at length so enslaved to his Passions and Appetites, as to fall into this _moral Debility_, the Law of God is still his Duty to observe: On the other hand, allowing Mankind to have lost their _moral Ability_ to practise Virtue in the Fall of _Adam_, and that God, taking Pity upon Man, grants him sufficient _Light_, to discern his State, and sufficient _Power_, to obtain Redemption from it, this Man is also under the _same Obligation_ to keep the Law of God, as though his moral Powers had never sustained any _Decay_ or _Loss_ in _Adam;_ and I dare affirm, that in _no_ other Sense, can Man be accountable for the Pravity of his Will. And let the Doctor observe this,--If it would be unsuitable to the Mercy of God, in the Case of Infants not committing actual Sin, to punish them eternally, _only because they were born of this first Transgressor_, would it not be equally unkind, to leave such as arrive at mature Age, under the Power of those _restless_ and _irresistable_ Propensities to Evil, derived from _Adam_, and to punish _them_ eternally, only because these Propensities, derived in virtue of being born of the first Transgressor, constantly, and _in spite_ of any thing we are able, considered in a moral and natural Sense, to do to the contrary, produce _Vice_ and _immorality?_ _All_ evil Actions, consequent upon this Propensity, are, in fact, as necessary and unavoidable to us, as the Propensity itself, _Where_ then, in point of Innocence, can the Difference be, _between_ having imputed Guilt and this Propensity, in Time of Infancy, and living long enough in this World, to feel, and shew to others, its arbitrary Effects, in producing Vice and Impiety whether we will or no? and where then is the Reason, for such very different Treatment of Infants and adult Persons? I must observe one Thing--The Doctor and his Brethren, as they make the Work of Salvation, a very easy and agreeable Thing to the Elect, on the one hand; so they assign the poor Sinner a very _hard Task_, on the other: _He that offends in one Point is_, they say, _guilty of breaking the whole Law_. Here is a _plain Instance_ of taking _Scripture_ in a literal Sense, when it can by no Means be so understood. According to this, a Man, that only _steals_, may be said to commit Murder, and be _punished_ as a Murderer as well as a Thief; though we know he has not committed it. In the main, we may conscientiously observe and keep God's Laws, and yet in Time of _Temptation_ and _Weakness_ fall into some Evil, will, God therefore _consider_ and _punish_ us as those who live in the daily Breach and Contempt of all his Laws? No! For, on the contrary, God ever waits to be gracious to all such, as through Inadvertence fall into Sin, and are willing to forsake it. The View and Intent of our Apostle, in these Words, seems to be of very _easy_ and _plain_ Signification: There was in those early Times, as appears from our Saviour's frequently reproving the Hypocrisy of that Generation, a Sort of People, who appeared zealous in the Externals of Religion, while at the same Time they neglected Things of far _greater Moment:_ _Woe unto you Scribes and Pharisees, ye pay Tithe of Mint and Cummin; and have omitted the weightier Matters of the Law:_ Mat. xxiii. _ver_. 23. They daringly violated God's Laws in some of the most material and important Instances, and complied with others in a mere formal ostentatious Way; and were therefore guilty, in the Divine View, of the Breach of the _whole Law;_ for _mere Obedience_ upon improper Motives to a _Part_ of the Law, while at the same Time they allow'd themselves in the _known_ and _deliberate_ Violation of _more weighty_ Commands, was no true or proper Obedience at all: and, in this Sense, the _Jewish_ Sacrifices of the Law, though commanded by the highest Authority, were always esteemed an Abomination; and the Christian Religion as well as the Law, is certainly liable to Abuses of the same Kind, from Men of hypocritical and corrupt Minds, whom therefore this Doctrine of the Apostle _effectually_ and _peculiarly_ regards and reproves: and I appeal to all, if this Construction of the Sacred Text be not more agreeable to Reason and Common Sense, than that which the Doctor has thought fit and convenient to bestow thereon. I beseech the Doctor to consider how, according to his Principles, this Covenant could be proposed to _Adam_, out of a kind and beneficent intention in the Creator, when God knew, in the first Place, that _Adam_ would not keep it, and determined, in the second Place, upon the Breach of it, to leave the Bulk of Mankind to perish everlastingly, without Mercy, without sufficient or suitable Means of Redemption; and what a _cruel Joke_, upon the _Calvinistical Scheme_, of God's willing the _Fall_, was here put upon _Adam_, and all his Posterity! To talk as some do, of our existing in _Adam_ at the Time of his Transgression, is very absurd, when, as _intelligent_ and _free Creatures_, it is evident, we did not exist at all. _Sin is a Transgression of some Law, which we have at the same time Power to keep_. God never requires Impossibilities. He that made Man, knows best what he is capable of and hath undoubtedly taken care to proportion the _Duties_ he requires of Man, to the _Powers_ he hath bestowed on him. The contrary would be very hard dealing indeed--If a Law be dispensed to me, I must in the first Place have Understanding sufficient to judge of its Authority, and the Obligations it lays me under; and, in the second Place, I must also have Power to keep it, otherwise it can never be a Law suitable to me; and a Man's _Age_, _Complexion_, _Stature_, and _Circumstances_, are as just Causes for Damnation, as the Breach of a Law which lies beyond the Reach of his Knowledge and Abilities. But supposing, in the last Place, that God did make such a Covenant with _Adam_, &_c_. (though I think I have shewn it to be impossible) let us see how the Doctrines of _Election_ and _Preterition_ will turn out _then_. I have already endeavoured to make it appear, that God does not act in that arbitrary Manner, which these Gentlemen teach; that though he is indeed governed by no Law without, or accountable to any for what he is pleased to do, yet his own Rectitude of Mind, is to him an invariable Rule of Righteousness, equally secure to all Intents and Purposes of a written Law without: and this argues the adorable and incomparable Excellency of his Being who, though by Nature he is infinitely above all Power and Authority whatever, yet his moral Perfections continually prompt him to promote the Happiness of the meanest of his Creatures. It was _sovereign Goodness_ (rather than _sovereign Pleasure_) which prompted the Almighty to create Man, in order to communicate Happiness to him; and if _Adam's_ Posterity might be said to fall in him, yet God must at least look on them in a more favourable Manner, than if they had actually sinned themselves; and consequently it could never suit with his Goodness to punish eternally _any one_ under this Circumstance, without _first giving_ him an Opportunity of recovering from his lapsed State; nor could he ordain the Means on Purpose to _save some_ by _electing Grace_, without _saving all_. God does nothing without sufficient Reason: he could save none under this Circumstance, but as they were _in themselves_ Objects of his Pity and Mercy; and if ever there was an Object of Mercy, here it is, an immortal Soul condemned, for the Fault of _another_, which it could by no Means hinder or prevent, to suffer eternal Torment. There is something greatly moving in such an Object as this; and as _all Adam's_ Posterity were equally involved in his Guilt, all are Objects of Mercy _precisely the same_, and therefore there is not the least Ground for the Difference which we are told is made by Election; because 'tis making a _Distinction_ where there is _no Difference_. Here is the Race of _Adam_, considered as _equally_ fallen in him, divided into two very unequal Parts (equally in themselves, and altogether Objects of Mercy, if such an Object can be) by the Almighty himself. The smaller Number he is at all Events determined to save, and to destroy the greater Number. In answer to this, I expect to hear that common, but _weak_ Argument, drawn from an _earthly Prince_, his extending Pardon to _one_ Criminal, and leaving _another_ to undergo the Execution of his Sentence. But this is of the same _fallacious Kind_, as that drawn from the Case of _Rebellion_, and shews how _very hard_ the Patrons of this Doctrine are put to it for Arguments. Two Men, condemned for one Crime, may not be equally wicked, and consequently _one_ may better deserve Pity than the _other_, and to extend it, is in itself a rational and worthy Distinction, made between two _such Criminals_. Let us suppose, in order to illustrate the Argument, that a Man is _compelled_, by Thieves, to go out on the Highway, where he plunders, and is at length, with the rest, brought to Justice; his Sentence would doubtless be the _same_ as theirs: But when he is consider'd, as having acted not by Choice, but _by Necessity_, he must needs be an Object of Pity. Nay, mere Justice itself will plead strongly in his Favour. Apply this (so far as it belongs) to the Doctrine of _Original Sin;_ which if it makes Men Sinners _at all_, it must be _by Necessity_, there being no _Possibility_ for us to prevent it; which is equal to the greatest Constraint that can be produced or imagined, and consequently _all Men_ must, under this Consideration, be _at worst_ suitable Objects of Mercy. Besides, the Weakness of this Argument will plainly appear, upon considering, with respect to _earthly Princes_, that where the Equity of making a _due Distinction_ between one _Criminal_ and another, is not the Reason, why _one is pardoned_, and the other _left to suffer;_ it _always_ arises either from _Caprice_, _Interest_, _Solicitation_, or from _Misrepresentation_ of Facts to Monarchs; who, too often, _see_ and _hear_ through _others_, that are not always duly conscientious, to preserve inviolable the Trust reposed in them; and whether such Reasoning as this, can possibly affect the _Almighty_, any Man of common Understanding may easily judge. But let them apply my Argument on the _Sovereignty of_ God against the _Certainty_ of their Election, and I believe they will find but little Reason to boast of their Doctrine of electing Grace. They tell us indeed, that this Doctrine of theirs, makes the Death of _Christ_ of more Effect than ours, because it secures the Salvation of _some_. But I have proved there can be no Security in it; and surely that Doctrine, which _puts all_ into a Capacity of Salvation, must be better, than that, which leaves _almost every Man_ to perish; and if it was better to save a few, than to save none in this arbitrary Manner, it must still have been better and more to the Glory of _Christ_, arbitrarily to have saved all Mankind. They say also, that their Doctrine of Election is a much better Ground for Love and good Works, than is that of _free Grace_. But the contrary is apparent, because whoever thinks rightly, cannot be without this disquieting Thought.--If God, in a mere arbitrary Manner, and without any Regard to previous Fitness, has chosen me, and rejected another; how do I know but his Mind may change hereafter, or that he may not reverse this Decree? or if _unconditional Election_ be the true Doctrine of the Gospel, and Man is _equally dear_ and acceptable to God _without_, as he is _with_, good Works, what Inducement can such a Person have to please God that Way, when he is already as well pleased without them? If Election is founded upon an _unconditional Decree_, the natural Inference (in all such as believe the Doctrine, and themselves to be of the Elect) must be this--If I am of the Number of the Elect, nothing can frustrate my Happiness; I may gratify my favourite Passions, and wallow in all Kinds of Wickedness, Luxury and Sensuality, and be equally acceptable to the Almighty, as was _David_ in the Sins of Murder and Adultery: On the contrary, if I am not of that Number which shall be saved, all my Pains and Obedience will never procure me Acceptance with God, and therefore I _will seek_ all possible Gratifications in this Life, seeing it is the only Time and Place wherein I can obtain any Thing like Happiness; nor can the Liberty I take here increase my Misery hereafter, the _precise Degree_ of _that_ being fixed along with the Decree of my Damnation: Though this Persuasion of being set apart for everlasting Torment, has more often the Effects of Desperation and _Self-Murder;_ and indeed the two Extremes of _Presumption_ and _Despair_, are the natural Brood and Offspring of these Doctrines, as the reverend and learned Dr. _Trapp_ has abundantly evinced, in his excellent Discourse, _against the Folly, Sin, and Danger of being righteous over much_. Hypocrisy and Persecution are also the genuine Offspring of this Faith; and _whenever_ it has been tried, Persecution has grown up to a considerable Maturity: for as they pretend to know the Marks of elect and reprobate Men, what can be more natural, than for those, who apprehend themselves to be the _former_, to persecute and take Vengeance on the _latter_. Hath not God, by his own Decree of Damnation, set them an Example? and if he has set a Mark on the Reprobate, they (the Elect) may very reasonably, in Imitation of the _Divine Conduct_, endeavour to make them as wretched as possible here in this Life, and _who shall lay any Thing to the Charge of God's Elect?_ I am now shewing, what are the genuine Effects of this Doctrine, not charging Consequences on such as neither do _see_ nor _approve_ of them: there is great Difference in the Conduct of Men of this Principle; and its natural Effects are, by other Things intervening, often prevented, the chief of which may, I believe, be Want of Power and Opportunity; for tho' many, when out of Power, might be apt to say (as _Hazael_ did) _what is thy Servant a Dog, that he should do this Evil?_ yet they would perhaps be in some Danger of behaving as that great Man did, when he came to be tried. Some again, who tho' they profess the Doctrine, are yet (I doubt not) often under the Influence of God's _Grace_, which, as it tends to humble the Soul, and render it more loving and humane than before, naturally prevents the Spirit of Persecution from taking such deep Root as otherwise it might. And here, though I do not pretend to be a _nice Judge_ of the spiritual Part of Religion, yet I have heard such as have been accounted Men of the best Experience say, that when the Grace of God operates on the Soul, the ardent Love of Mankind is _inseparable therewith_. If then the better Sort of those, who profess this Doctrine, are ever sensible of this _most agreeable_ and humbling Operation in the Soul, I ask them, if it does not _naturally distend_ and enlarge their Wishes, in Behalf of all Mankind? and if this Spirit of Love be the genuine Effect of the Operation of God's Grace, what shall be said of that ineffable and immense Fountain of Grace and Goodness, from whence it proceeds? But, on the other hand, it has been observed, that among mere _enthusiastick and traditional Believers_, of the Doctrine of Election, their Hypocrisy, Deceit and Dissimulation has overtop'd that of all the World besides, even beyond what human Nature could be thought capable of, in its most wicked and corrupt State; in short, they seem to have made the Deceit of _Jacob_, and all other parallel Places of Scripture, that furnish the worst Part of the Lives of good Men, a _standing Rule_ of Behaviour--What a blessed Company has the Lord set apart for himself! The _Foreknowledge_ of God is supposed, by some, to belong to the Argument of _Predestination;_ but I think it wholly beside my present Purpose, to enter circumstantially into it, for _this Reason_--If, Whatever God _foreknows_, he must also of Necessity _foreordain;_ it is manifestly using _Foreknowledge_ and _Ordination_ to signify just the _same Thing_, and, _in this Light_, every Argument against _Fore-ordination_, must be equally strong against _Foreknowledge_, so far as it affects the Doctrines under Consideration; and when these Gentlemen can shew the contrary, or are willing to enter into the Consideration of the _Divine Foreknowledge_, either _separate from_, or _connected with_, the Doctrine of _Fore-ordination_, I shall always be ready to receive Information. This Doctrine of electing Grace, they exalt as an _incomprehensible Mystery;_ so do the Papists, with as good Reason, that of _Transubstantiation;_ for neither of them are Mysteries, or incomprehensible, but _palpable Errors_, whose Absurdity we do _easily and fully comprehend;_ nor will the stale Art of playing on the Word _Mystery_ amuse us any longer. Another strange Argument, which these Men make use of, in order to set aside some Passages of Scripture, which are positive and express against them, is this, _that if God wills the Salvation of all Men, all must be saved, otherwise we may be said to conquer the Will and Grace of God_. To which the Answer is very easy--Man is made a _free Creature_, and therefore God deals with him as such; because to make him free, and then arbitrarily _overrule_ his Freedom, would be making him free to _no Purpose_. The Will of God is sometimes _positive_, and sometimes _conditional_. He gives Laws, commands us to keep them, and promises eternal Life to those who obey; nor can we suppose he commands us to obey, without willing our Obedience. We may indeed _resist_ the Operations of his Grace: but to talk of _conquering_ God, is Nonsense. He has made us free Creatures; he wills our Salvation, and has granted us such Aids as are sufficient, if we use them aright, to bring us to Happiness: This Conduct in the Divine Being, is not only reasonable in itself, but _perfectly agreeable_ to many _plain_ and _express_ Parts of Scripture. The _Weeping_ and _Lamentation_ of _Christ_ over _Jerusalem_, is a strong Proof of it: _How often would I have gathered thee, as a Hen gathereth her Chickens under her Wings; but thou wouldest not!_ Here was all done, that was fit and convenient to reclaim free Beings; not only proper Aids offer'd, but offer'd in the _most tender_ and affectionate Manner, as is evident from the Comparison of the Hen, &_c_. and by the Words _how often_, is set forth the _great Patience and longsuffering of God:_ And notwithstanding all this, they resisted to their own Destruction. God _willed_, or would have saved her, but she was stubborn and rebellious, and would not accept of Salvation; did she therefore _conquer_ the Almighty? Suppose my Father gives me a good Education, a good Employment, and a competent Portion in Money, and, besides all, is continually at hand, ready further to advise and assist me, whenever it may be necessary; yet I am obstinate and disobedient, and, by pursuing evil Courses, fall into Poverty, Contempt, and Ruin: I may indeed be said to _resist_, but in no _good Sense_ to _conquer_ my Father. Besides, according to this absurd Way of arguing, if God does all in Believers, his Laws are to be _kept_ by himself; with what Propriety then can they be said to be given to Man? He to whom the Law is given is to keep it, not the Being who gives it. I might here, very naturally, speak concerning the Sacrifice of _Christ's Death_, and _his Righteousness_ imputed to us; but I shall not now discuss it fully, only a few Remarks may not be impertinent or useless. These two Points appear to me to be much misunderstood; _Sin_ is said to be infinite, because committed against an infinite God; and that therefore nothing but an infinite Being can satisfy the Justice of God for it: A fine Story indeed, for Men to amuse us with, who pretend to believe in _only one_ God: Here is _one_ infinite Being, to be satisfied for Sin; and _another_, to satisfy him. And, what is still as bad or worse, it supposes, that an infinite Being may, for a certain Season, suffer or undergo a Diminution of its Happiness; which, in an infinite and unchangeable Being, I take to be impossible. Was it then _only_ the Person, or _rational Soul_ of _Jesus Christ_, that suffered, being upheld under it, by the infinite Being himself? If so, what is become of the infinite Being, that was to _suffer_ for Sin; for does God make Satisfaction to himself? 'Till these Gentlemen either renounce, or better explain this Matter, they will, I hope, think very favourably of all who deal in absurd Schemes of Faith. The Thing productive of these Absurdities, is a _wrong Notion_ of Sin, and of the Justice of God: Sin, they say, is infinite, because _committed against an infinite God_. It is doubtless sometimes a great Aggravation of it, that it is committed against God; but it is not so much his _Greatness_, as our abusing his _Goodness_, that aggravates the Crime: As may appear from this short Observation, That any Favour, disinterestedly done, by a Person of the meanest Rank in Life, lays the Receiver under the same Obligation, as though it were granted by the greatest Man upon Earth: It is the Motive and the Action, put together, that gives it its proper Value to the Receiver. God's Authority may add some kind of Sanction but no Alteration of outward Circumstances, in him who confers a Benefit, can ever after change the Nature of the Action, or the Obligations resulting from it. And, when we consider, on the other hand, that Sin is committed by a frail finite Being, very often in its unguarded Moments, prompted by Passion and Appetite, and surrounded with the most powerful Temptations; this proves more strongly, that it cannot be infinite. By the _Justice_ of God, is not meant, that he cannot forgive Sin without Satisfaction, but that he _will_ not punish the Innocent; He proposes himself as a Pattern for our Imitation, and bids us _forgive our offending Brethren, if they repent and desire Forgiveness:_ and he himself will therefore forgive on the same Terms; for unless Sin becomes so enormous, as to make Punishment necessary, _Repentance_ and _Amendment_ is all that God expects. The Gospel is proposed to Sinners, on these Terms; and as to the Death of Christ, it were unreasonable to think, he laid down his Life by way of Satisfaction to Offended Justice, in the Manner these Gentlemen understand it; but in Testimony of the Truth of his Doctrines, and Confirmation of God's _great Love_ to the World. This was the Cause of Christ's Coming in the Flesh. God so loved the World, that he sent Christ to save it, by such Preaching and Miracles, and other internal Aids, &_c_. as were in themselves sufficient to beget Faith in such as gave a proper Attention; such a Faith, in the Soul, as was productive of Morality and Virtue in Practice. It was an _original Act_ of Grace and Goodness in God, to send Christ into the World, to save Sinners, and not (as some superstitiously teach) a mere Compliance in God the Father (and that, not without full Satisfaction first made) to the _voluntary_ and _merciful_ Intercession of Christ the Son. For then our Salvation would be _owing only_ to the Love of Christ, and not _at all_ to God's Love, who is here considered as a _rigorous_ and _unrelenting Creditor_, that will not release the Debtor, until full Satisfaction be made; so that Christ becomes our Creditor, and God has no farther Demand: and what Need then can there be of Intercession to God on our Behalf, when the Debt is already paid, and full Satisfaction made? Christ's coming into the World was _entirely owing_ to the Father's Mercy. His Doctrine, Miracles, &_c_. were what he had in Commission from God, as a Means to instruct and make the World happy; it is he who, instead of being averse to forgive frail Man his Offences, has through Jesus _proclaimed Pardon_ to _all_, on Condition of Repentance and Amendment; and thro' the Love of God it was also, that Christ was appointed a Mediator for sinful Man: So that the whole Affair arose from God's own Mercy. I stand amazed at the Gentlemen, against whom I am arguing; what a _Scope_ do they give to the _Sovereignty_ of God, in the Doctrines of _Election_ and _Reprobation?_ And yet they won't _suffer it_ at all to operate, in the Case of _forgiving Sin_, on the Terms of Repentance and Amendment. A small, yea _very small_ and reasonable Allowance, in regard to the _Exertion_ of this Attribute, and in a _good Cause_ too, would be sufficient to justify the Mercy of God, in forgiving Sin. If, as a Sovereign, he punishes where no Sin is, surely he may also, as a Sovereign, forgive Sin. So that this Notion of the Impossibility of God's forgiving Sin, without Satisfaction first made, is erroneous and despicable. Repentance and Amendment in the Creature is, in the Nature of Things, a _much better_ Satisfaction, than can be made by the Act of another. By the _Justice_ of God, I repeat it again, is meant, that he will not punish the innocent, and not that he cannot shew Mercy to an offending, repenting, penitent Creature, unless another sheds his Blood for an Atonement. Nor is the Righteousness of Christ, _strictly speaking_, imputable to any one. The Terms of the Gospel are, _Repent, and be converted, and your Sins shall be blotted out:_ Be _sorry_ and _amend_, and I will _forgive_ you. _The Prayer of a Righteous Man availeth much;_ and God, in some Cases, to shew his Regard to the Righteous, and to excite others to become righteous also, may possibly grant _that_, at the Request of such a righteous Person, which without, it might be improper to grant; and Christ being our holy and righteous Mediator, God may do more at his Request, on our Behalf, than he would do without it. Not but that (_independent of_ and previous to the Intercession of Christ, at least to the Account we have of it, in the New Testament) God was _ever disposed_ to be favourable to Man, and always ready to receive him, coming to him in a proper and becoming Manner: For even this very Christ, and his Intercession, &_c_. is all ultimately the Act of God, and flows from his unbounded Love and Goodness to Man. So that _imputed Righteousness_ can mean no more, than God's forgiving us, at the Request of Jesus Christ (whom he sent on purpose to make that Request, and to do every thing for the Benefit and Happiness of Man) and not a _real Transfer_ of Christ's _personal_ Righteousness, which is not only in itself impossible, but would, if true, take away all Necessity of our becoming holy. The Righteousness of Christ is altogether different to what these Men take it to be; it is a real State of Righteousness, wrought in the Soul by the Operation of Christ's _Spirit_, Man submitting thereto. I know there are some Expressions in the _New Testament_, which (if precipitantly understood, without Regard had to the Nature of the Thing, and to other plain Texts) seem _a little_ to favour these Doctrines. I can't say, by what Means _precisely_ the _Bible_ came into its present Condition; many Things might concur to give us wrong Apprehensions of its true Sense and Meaning, He that understands human Nature will find, that Men, who have been _great Bigots_ in any Way of Religion, _will generally retain_ some of their former Prejudices, even after, in the main, they may have changed their Principles, Prejudice in Education is a Leaven, not so easily purged out, as some may imagine; and 'tis possible, the _Writings_ of St. _Paul_ may have in them a Tincture of this kind; besides what may have since crept in, by Partiality or Accident: against which, and _all Errors_ of a like Kind, a due Regard to the _fundamental Principles_, I have endeavoured to inculcate, will, I hope, abundantly secure us. These are some succinct Observations, that I could not well avoid making; which perhaps may shortly be followed by something more _full_ and _comprehensive_, concerning the _Virtue_ and _Extent_ of Christ's _Death_, and the Nature of _imputed Righteousness_. What I have here delivered, concerning God's _Sovereignty_, is not the Result of a few, hasty, or loose Thoughts, but the Effect of long and mature Deliberation. I have weighed over and over the Arguments in my own Breast, and tried their Strength with People, the most likely to afford me Satisfaction; and could I have found it in either Way, the World had never been troubled with these _Free and Impartial Thoughts_. Permit me, before I make an End, just to observe, in Regard to the Controversy, between Mr. _J--s_ and Mr. _Taylor_, on the Scripture Doctrine of _Original Sin;_ that Mr. _J--s_, as well as Dr. _W--s_, lays great Stress on that frivolous Distinction, mentioned a few Pages back, of _moral_ and _natural_ Necessity, to that Degree, that Mr. _Taylor_ is treated somewhat _rudely_, for not perceiving the Force of it; when I dare aver, _none_ but misguided Zealots, could ever see any Reason or Argument in it: Nor do some of these very Men, who urge it, seem to believe it themselves. Ask them how Man can be justly accountable for Evils, that proceed from a _Nature depraved in_ Adam, and they immediately leave _this Distinction_, and recur to the _Covenant;_ and this Covenant they cannot support by any Argument short of God's _Sovereignty_, which they are welcome (if they can tell how) to improve to their own Advantage. To say that Man, in the Fall, has natural Powers to act rightly, and is therefore condemnable when he does not, tho', by Necessity; he wants Inclinations to be virtuous, would, to _use_ Mr. _J--s_'s genteel Language, _be a senseless Falshood, and shew Poverty of Argument_ (I am loth to add as he does) _and Effrontery too_. Such Rudeness deserves Lamentation as well as Reproof, nor do I on this Occasion set before _him_ his _own Words_ with any secret Pleasure, but purely to shew Mr. _J--s_, how agreeable such a Liberty will appear, when, in return, it may be offered to himself. Why is this favourite Distinction urged, unless it be to shew, that because Man has natural Powers, 'tis his _own_ Fault, if he does not employ them aright; but how does it appear, that such a Power _only_, can render _Man_ a whit better, or _more_ a _moral Agent_, than he is, or would be, without it? If Inclination to _Virtue_, must _precede_ every truly virtuous Action; and Man's Depravity under the Fall, be _such_ as prevents his ever having such good Inclinations, his natural Ability to do Good, must needs be a mere _Joke_ and a _Cypher_. Just the same as, on the other hand, would be, the strongest Inclinations to Virtue, and _no_ natural Power of complying with them in Practice. As nothing short of _Knowledge_ and _Power_, Power of both kinds, _natural_ and _moral_, can constitute Man a _moral Agent_, or proper Subject of _Law_, of Rewards and Punishments, either here, or hereafter; one would wonder to see this insignificant Distinction urged at all in this Controversy: for it is, at the best, a mere _Parade of Words;_ which prove nothing, except it be the Want of Truth and Righteousness, in this Doctrine of _Original Sin;_ or great _Bigotry_, and Defect of Understanding, in its most accomplished Patrons. And after all that is, or can be said, concerning _natural_ and _moral_ Powers; it is doubtful, if such a depraved miserable Wretch, as Man under the Fall is said by the _Assemblies Catechism_ to be, can (strictly speaking) have any Power at all over his own Thoughts and Actions; The immediate Cause and Spring of Action _is_ the _Soul_, to which the _Body_ is subservient only as an _Instrument_, but has in itself, according to the best Philosophy, no Power to produce _voluntary_ or _self Motion_. What is called _natural_ Power in Man, as opposed to _moral_, is at least, a Power lodged in the Soul, to give Motion to the Body. But these _Volitions_ of the Mind, and the immediate Act of the Soul upon the Body, in order to produce _Virtue_, depending on the Mind's being in a State of _Freedom_, able to chuse and prefer Virtue, as better than Vice; it is evident, that in a Mind, totally abandoned to Evil, _moral_ Motives have not their due Power over the Man; and what we call his _natural_ Power to be virtuous, is either suspended, or quite overpowered, by an evil and irresistable Turn of Inclination, arising from the _Act_ of another; I mean, _Adam_. Man then, considered as a _moral_ Agent, has Power to _do_, or _not_ to _do_, the very same Thing; be it good or evil. But this Liberty of Choice and Action in the Creature, as the _Soul_ is but one, and also _the_ immediate Source of all Action in Man, cannot properly, I think, be called _two_ distinct Powers, but rather _different Applications_ of _one_ and the _same Power_ lodged in the Soul. On the other hand, in such a _depraved Creature_, as Man under the Fall is said to be, the Power of _choosing_ and _refusing_, of being virtuous or vicious, which he _pleases_, is altogether lost and destroyed; and such a Man, so far from having _natural_ and _moral_ Powers, has (properly speaking) _no Power_ at all remaining: all his Thoughts and Actions, like those of a Machine, are merely involuntary; he is constantly impelled by something mightier than himself, and ever necessitated to think and act as he does: his being an intelligent Creature, doth not alter the State of the Case, or render him more an Agent than a Stock or a Stone. In this sad Condition, Man can have no Power at all to love and pursue Virtue, untill the overruling Principle, which determines all his Thoughts and Actions to the contrary, be removed, or he receive Superaddition of Understanding and Strength agreeable thereto. My natural Strength of Body may be equal to four hundred Weight; but what can this avail, while I am continually pressed down by four thousand? and all Mr. _J--s_'s Skill and Criticism (_Pages_ 71, 72) will not evade this Reasoning. The Distinction between immediate and remote Causes of Sin, is as trifling and inconclusive, as the 'forementioned Distinction of _moral_ and _natural_ Powers. Those indeed, who can fancy themselves to be God's own dear and elect Children, may reject all Opposition with _Scorn_, and without _Examination_, and acquiesce readily in the most rigid and tyrannical System of Religion, that renders the Bulk of Mankind miserable, while the Elect may think themselves secure in the Divine Decree, _with an humble Assent, and awful_ (it should be superstitious) _Reverence of the Majesty and Sovereignty of the great God_. But what Reason or Recompence will that be to _him_, who under proper Means and Motives would have kept the Commandments, and so have entered into Life; who would have loved the Lord his God, with all his Heart, Soul, and Strength; and his Neighbour as himself? Or how can such a partial and tyrannical Doctrine, be reconciled to the Voice of Reason in Man, to our common Notions of _Right_ and _Wrong_, to the General Scope and Tenour of the _Holy Scriptures_, or to that Text in particular, which assures us, that _the Almighty doth not grieve nor afflict the Children of Men willingly?_ _FINIS._ 
28507	----	Transcriber's Note Minor punctuation inconsistencies have been silently corrected. Title page: "MEMORIES OF OF GENNESARET" changed to "MEMORIES OF GENNESARET" p9: Verse number "2." added to "Mark, viii." for consistency p23: "brethern" changed to "brethren" p106: "vail" changed to "veil" p124: duplicate word "one" removed p126: "the its great fountain" changed to "its great fountain" p128: "frowed" changed to "frowned" THE MIND OF JESUS. BY JOHN R. MACDUFF, D.D. AUTHOR OF "MORNING AND NIGHT WATCHES," "THE WORDS OF JESUS," "FAMILY PRAYER," "FOOTSTEPS OF ST. PAUL," "MEMORIES OF GENNESARET," "BOW IN THE CLOUD," "STORY OF BETHLEHEM," ETC. NEW YORK ROBERT CARTER & BROTHERS, No. 530 BROADWAY. 1860. The Mind of Jesus. THE MIND OF JESUS! What a study is this! To attain a dim reflection of it, is the ambition of angels--higher they can not soar. "To be conformed to the image of His Son!"--it is the end of God in the predestination of His Church from all eternity. "We shall be like Him!"--it is the Bible picture of _heaven_! In a former little volume, we pondered some of the gracious _Words_ which proceeded out of the mouth of Jesus. In the present, we have a few faint lineaments of that holy _Character_ which constituted the living exposition and embodiment of His precepts. But how lofty such a standard! How all creature-perfection shrinks abashed and confounded before a Divine portraiture like this! He is the true "Angel standing in the sun," who alone projects no shadow; so bathed in the glories of Deity that likeness to Him becomes like the light in which He is shrouded--"no man can approach unto it." May we not, however, seek at least to approximate, though we can not adequately resemble? It is impossible on earth to associate with a fellow-being without getting, in some degree, assimilated to him. So, the more we study "the Mind of Christ," the more we are in His company--holding converse with Him as our best and dearest friend--catching up his holy looks and holy deeds--the more shall we be "transformed into the same image." "Consider," says the Great Apostle (literally '_gaze_ on') "Christ Jesus" (Heb. iii. 1). Study feature by feature, lineament by lineament, of that Peerless Exemplar. "_Gaze_" on the Sun of Righteousness, till, like gazing long on the natural sun, you carry away with you, on your spiritual vision, dazzling images of His brightness and glory. Though He be the Archetype of all goodness, remember He is no shadowy model--though the Infinite Jehovah, He was "the _Man_ Christ Jesus." We must never, indeed, forget that it is not the _mind_, but the _work_ of Immanuel, which lies at the foundation of a sinner's hope. He must be known as a _Saviour_, before He is studied as an _Example_. His doing and dying is the center jewel, of which all the virtues of His holy life are merely the setting. But neither must we overlook the Scripture obligation to walk in His footsteps and imbibe His Spirit, for "if any man have not the _Spirit of Christ_, he is _none of His_!" Oh, that each individual Christian were more Saviour-like! that, in the manifestation of a holy character and heavenly demeanor, it might be said in some feeble measure of the faint and imperfect reflection--"Such was _Jesus_!" How far short we are of such a criterion, mournful experience can testify. But it is at least comforting to know that there is a day coming, when, in the full vision and fruition of the Glorious Original, the exhortation of our motto-verse will be needed no more; when we shall be able to say, in the words of an inspired apostle, "We _have_ the MIND OF CHRIST!" Contents. PAGE The Mind of Jesus 3 Compassion 9 Resignation in Trial 13 Devotedness to God 17 Forgiveness of Injuries 21 Meekness 25 Thankfulness 29 Unselfishness 33 Submission to God's Word 37 Prayerfulness 41 Love to the Brethren 45 Sympathy 49 Fidelity in Rebuke 53 Gentleness in Rebuke 57 Endurance of Contradiction 61 Pleasing God 65 Grief at Sin 69 Humility 73 Patience 77 Subjection 81 Not Retaliating 85 Bearing the Cross 89 Holy Zeal 93 Benevolence 97 Firmness in Temptation 101 Receiving Sinners 105 Guilelessness 109 Activity in Duty 113 Committing our Way to God 117 Love of Unity 121 Not of the World 125 Calmness in Death 129 Let THIS MIND Be in you, Which was also in Christ Jesus. First Day. COMPASSION. "I have compassion on the multitude."--Mark, viii. 2. What a pattern to His people, the tender _compassion_ of Jesus! He found the world He came to save a moral Bethesda. The wail of suffering humanity was every where borne to His ear. It was His delight to walk its porches, to pity, relieve, comfort, save! The faintest cry of misery arrested His footsteps--stirred a ripple in this fountain of Infinite Love. Was it a _leper_,--that dreaded name which entailed a life-long exile from friendly looks and kindly words? There was _One_, at least, who had tones and deeds of tenderness for the outcast. "_Jesus_, being moved with compassion, put forth His hand, and _touched_ him." Was it some blind beggars on the Jericho highway, groping in darkness, pleading for help? "_Jesus_ stood still, and had compassion on them, and touched their eyes!" Was it the speechless pleadings of a widow's tears at the gate of Nain, when she followed her earthly pride and prop to the grave? "When the _Lord_ saw her, He had compassion on her, and said, Weep not!" Even when He rebukes, the bow of compassion is seen in the cloud, or rather, that cloud, as it passes, dissolves in a rain-shower of mercy. He pronounces Jerusalem "_desolate_," but the doom is uttered amid a flood of anguished sorrow! Reader! do the compassionate words and deeds of a tender Saviour find any feeble echo and transcript in yours? As you traverse in thought the wastes of human wretchedness, does the spectacle give rise, not to the mere emotional feeling which weeps itself away in sentimental tears, but to an earnest desire to _do something_ to mitigate the sufferings of woe-worn humanity? How vast and world-wide the claims on your compassion!--now near, now at a distance--the unmet and unanswered cry of perishing millions abroad--the heathendom which lies unsuccored at your own door--the public charity languishing--the mission staff dwarfed and crippled from lack of needful funds--a suffering district--a starving family--a poor neighbor--a helpless orphan--it may be, some crowded hovel, where misery and vice run riot--or some lonely sick chamber, where the dim lamp has been wasting for dreary nights--or some desolate home which death has entered, where "Joseph is not, and Simeon is not," and where some sobbing heart, under the tattered garb of poverty, mourns, unsolaced and unpitied, its "loved and lost." Are there none such within your reach, to whom a trifling pittance would be as an angel of mercy? How it would hallow and enhance all you possess, were you to seek to live as almoner of Jehovah's bounties! If He has given you of this world's substance, remember it is bestowed, not to be greedily hoarded or lavishly squandered. Property and wealth are talents to be traded on and laid out for the good of others--sacred trusts, not selfishly to be _enjoyed_, but generously to be _employed_. "The poor are the representatives of Jesus, their wants He considers as His own," and He will recompense accordingly. The feeblest expression of Christian pity and love, though it be but the widow's mite, or the cup of cold water, or the kindly look and word when there is neither mite nor cup to give, yet, if done in _His_ name, it is entered in the "book of life" as a "loan to the Lord;" and in that day when "the books are opened," the loan will be paid back with usury. "ARM YOURSELVES LIKEWISE WITH THE SAME MIND." Second Day. RESIGNATION IN TRIAL. "Not my will, but Thine be done!"--Luke, xxii. 42. Where was there ever resignation like this! The life of Jesus was one long martyrdom. From Bethlehem's manger to Calvary's cross, there was scarce one break in the clouds; these gathered more darkly and ominously around Him till they burst over His devoted head as He uttered His expiring cry. Yet throughout this pilgrimage of sorrow no murmuring accent escaped His lips. The most suffering of all suffering lives was one of uncomplaining submission. "Not _my_ will, but _Thy_ will," was the motto of this wondrous Being! When He came into the world He thus announced His advent, "Lo, I come, I delight to do _Thy will_, O my God!" When He left it, we listen to the same prayer of blended agony and acquiescence, "O my Father, if it be possible let this cup pass from me! _Nevertheless_ not as _I will_, but as _Thou wilt_." Reader! is this mind also in _you_? Ah, what are your trials compared to His! What the ripples in your tide of woe, compared to the waves and billows which swept over him! If He, the spotless Lamb of God, "murmured not," how can _you_ murmur? _His_ were the sufferings of a bosom never once darkened with the passing shadow of guilt or sin. _Your_ severest sufferings are deserved, yea, infinitely less _than_ deserved! Are you tempted to indulge in hard suspicions, as to God's faithfulness and love, in appointing some peculiar trial? Ask yourself, Would Jesus have done _this_? Should _I_ seek to pry into "the deep things of God," when _He_, in the spirit of a weaned child, was satisfied with the solution, "_Even so, Father, for so it seems good in Thy sight_"? "Even so, _Father_!" Afflicted one! "tossed with tempest, and not comforted," take that _word_ on which thy Lord pillowed His suffering head, and make it, as He did, the secret of thy resignation. The sick child will take the bitterest draught from a _father's_ hand. "This cup which Thou, O God, givest me to drink, shall I not drink it?" Be it mine to lie passive in the arms of Thy chastening love, exulting in the assurance that all Thy appointments, though sovereign, are never arbitrary, but that there is a gracious "need be" in them all. "My Father!" my Covenant God! the God who _spared not Jesus_! It may well hush every repining word. Drinking deep of his sweet spirit of submission, you will be able thus to meet, yea, even to welcome, your sorest cross, saying, "Yes, Lord, all _is_ well, just because it is Thy blessed will. Take me, use me, chasten me, as seemeth good in Thy sight. My will is resolved into Thine. This trial is dark; I can not see the 'why and the wherefore' of it--but 'not my will, but Thy will!' The gourd is withered; I can not see the reason of so speedy a dissolution of the loved earthly shelter; sense and sight ask in vain why these leaves of earthly refreshment have been doomed so soon to droop in sadness and sorrow. But it is enough. 'The Lord prepared the worm;' 'not _my_ will, but _Thy_ will!'" Oh, how does the stricken soul honor God by thus being _dumb_ in the midst of dark and perplexing dealings, recognizing in these, part of the needed discipline and training for a sorrowless, sinless, deathless world; regarding every trial as a link in the chain which draws it to heaven, where the whitest robes will be found to be those here baptized with suffering, and bathed in tears! "ARM YOURSELVES LIKEWISE WITH THE SAME MIND." Third Day. DEVOTEDNESS TO GOD. "Wist ye not that I must be about my Father's business?"-- Luke, ii. 49. "My meat and my drink are to do the will of Him that sent me, and to finish His work." That _one_ object brought Jesus from heaven--that _one_ object he pursued with unflinching, undeviating constancy, until He could say, "It is finished." However short man comes of _his_ "chief end," "Glory to God in the highest" was the motive, the rule, and exponent of every act of that wondrous life. With us, the magnet of the soul, even when truest, is ever subject to partial oscillations and depressions, trembling at times away from its great attraction-point. _His_ never knew one tremulous wavering from its all-glorious center. With Him there were no ebbs and flows, no fits and starts. He could say, in the words of that prophetic psalm which speaks so preëminently of Himself, "I have set the Lord _always_ before me!" Reader! do you feel that in some feeble measure this lofty life-motto of the sinless Son of God is written on your home and heart, regulating your actions, chastening your joys, quickening your hopes, giving energy and direction to your whole being, subordinating all the affections of your nature to their high destiny? With pure and unalloyed motives, with a single eye, and a single aim, can you say, somewhat in the spirit of His brightest follower, "This _one_ thing I do"? Are you ready to regard all you have--rank, name, talents, riches, influence, distinctions--valuable, only so far as they contribute to promote the glory of Him who is "first and last, and all in all"? Seek to feel that your heavenly Father's is not only _a_ business; but _the_ business of life. "Whose I am, and whom I serve,"--let this be the superscription written on your thoughts and deeds, your employments and enjoyments, your sleeping and waking. Be not, as the fixed stars, cold and distant; but be ever bathing in the sunshine of conscious nearness to Him who is the sun and center of all happiness and joy. Each has some appointed work to perform, some little niche in the spiritual temple to occupy. Yours may be no splendid services, no flaming or brilliant actions to blaze and dazzle in the eye of man. It may be the quiet, unobtrusive inner work, the secret prayer, the mortified sin, the forgiven injury, the trifling act of self-sacrifice for God's glory and the good of others, of which no eye but the Eye which seeth in secret is cognizant. It matters not how _small_. Remember, with Him, motive dignifies action. It is not _what_ we do, but _how_ we do it. He can be glorified in _little_ things as well as _great_ things, and by nothing more than the daily walk, the daily life. Beware of any thing that would interfere with a surrender of heart and soul to His service--worldly entanglements, indulged sin, an uneven walk, a divided heart, nestling in creature comforts, shrinking from the cross. How many hazard, if they do not make shipwreck, of their eternal hopes by becoming _idlers_ in the vineyard; lingerers, like Lot; world-lovers, like Demas; "do-nothing Christians," like the inhabitants of Meroz! The command is, "Go, work!" _Words_ tell what you _should_ be; _deeds_ tell what you _are_. Let those around you see there is a reality in walking _with_ God, and working _for_ God! "ARM YOURSELVES LIKEWISE WITH THE SAME MIND." Fourth Day. FORGIVENESS OF INJURIES. "Then said Jesus, Father, forgive them; for they know not what they do."--Luke, xxiii. 34. Many a death-struggle has been made to save a friend. A dying Saviour gathers up His expiring breath to plead for His foes! At the climax of His own woe, and of human ingratitude--man-forsaken, and God-deserted--His faltering voice mingles with the shout of His murderers,--"Father, forgive them; for they know not what they do!" Had the faithless Peter been there, could he have wondered at the reply to a former question,--"Lord, how often shall my brother sin against me, and I forgive him,--till seven times?" Jesus said unto him, "I say not unto thee, Until seven times; but, Until seventy times seven." (Matt. xviii. 21.) Superiority to insult and ignominy, with some, proceeds from a callous and indifferent temperament,--a cold, phlegmatic, stoical insensibility, alike to kindness or unkindness. It was not so with Jesus. The tender sensibilities of His holy nature rendered Him keenly sensible to ingratitude and injury, whether this was manifested in the malice of undisguised enmity, or the treachery of trusted friendship. Perhaps to a noble nature the latter of these is the more deeply wounding. Many are inclined to forgive an open and unmasked antagonist, who are not so willing to forget or forgive heartless faithfulness, or unrequited love. But see, too, in this respect, the conduct of the blessed Redeemer! Mark how He deals with His own disciples who had basely forsaken him and fled, and that, too, in the hour He most needed their sympathy. No sooner does He rise from the dead than He hastens to disarm their fears and to assure them of an unaltered and unalterable affection. "Go tell _my brethren_," is the first message He sends; "_Peace be unto you_," is the salutation at the first meeting; "_Children!_" is the word with which He first greets them on the shores of Tiberias. Even Joseph, (the Old Testament type and pattern of generous forgiveness,) when he makes himself known to his brethren, recalls the bitter thought, "Whom ye sold into Egypt." The true Joseph, when _He_ reveals Himself to His disciples, buries in oblivion the memory of by-gone faithlessness. He _meets_ them with a benediction. He _leaves_ them at His ascension with the same--"He lifted up His hands and blessed them!" Reader! follow in all this the spirit of your Lord and Master. In rising from the study of His holy example, seek to feel that with you there shall be no such name, no such word, as _enemy_! Harbor no resentful thought, indulge in no bitter recrimination. Surrender yourself to no sullen fretfulness. Let "the law of kindness" be in your heart. Put the best construction on the failings of others Make no injurious comments on their frailties; no uncharitable insinuations. "Consider thyself, lest thou also be tempted." When disposed at any time to cherish an unforgiving spirit towards a brother, think, if thy God had retained His anger for ever, where wouldst thou have been? If _He_, the Infinite One, who might have spurned thee for ever from His presence, hath had patience with thee, and forgiven thee _all_, wilt _thou_, on account of some petty grievance which thy calmer moments would pronounce unworthy of a thought, indulge in the look of cold estrangement, the unrelenting word, or unforgiving deed? "If any man have a quarrel against any, even as Christ forgave you, so also do ye." "ARM YOURSELVES LIKEWISE WITH THE SAME MIND." Fifth Day. MEEKNESS. "I am meek and lowly in heart."--Matt. xi. 29. There is often a beautiful blending of majesty and humility, magnanimity and lowliness, in great minds. The mightiest and holiest of all Beings that ever trod our world was the meekest of all. The Ancient of Days was as the "infant of days." He who had listened to nothing but angel-melodies from all eternity, found, while on earth, melody in the lispings of an infant's voice, or in an outcast's tears! No wonder an innocent _lamb_ was His emblem, or that the annointing Spirit came down upon Him in the form of the gentle _dove_. He had the wealth of worlds at His feet. The hosts of heaven had only to be summoned as His retinue. But all the pageantry of the world, all its dreams of carnal glory, had, for Him, no fascination. The Tempter, from a mountain-summit, showed Him a wide scene of "splendid misery;" but He spurned alike the thought and the adversary away! John and James would call down fire from heaven on a Samaritan village; He rebukes the vengeful suggestion! Peter, on the night of the betrayal, cuts off the ear of an assassin; the intended Victim, again, only challenges His disciple, and heals His enemy! Arraigned before Pilate's judgment-seat, how meekly He bears nameless wrongs and indignities! Suspended on the cross--the execrations of the multitude are rising around, but He hears as though He heard them not; they extract no angry look, no bitter word--"Behold the _Lamb_ of God!" Need we wonder that "meekness" and "poverty of spirit" should stand foremost in His own cluster of beatitudes; that He should select _this_ among all His other qualities for the peculiar study and imitation of His disciples, "Learn of Me, _for_ I am _meek_;" or that an apostle should exhort "by the _meekness_ and _gentleness_ of Christ!" How different the world's maxims, and His! The _world's_--"Resent the affront, vindicate honor!" _His_--"Overcome evil with good!" _The world's_--"Only let it be when for your _faults_ ye are buffeted that ye take it patiently." _His_--"When ye do _well_ and suffer for it, ye take it patiently, _this_ is acceptable with God." (1 Pet. ii. 20.) Reader! strive to obtain, like your adorable Lord, this "ornament of a meek and quiet spirit, which, in the sight of God, is of great price." Be "clothed" with gentleness and humility. Follow not the world's fleeting shadows that mock you as you grasp them. If always aspiring--ever soaring on the wing--you are likely to become discontented, proud, selfish, time-serving. In whatever position of life God has placed you, be satisfied. What! ambitious to be on a pinnacle of the temple--a higher place in the Church, or in the world?--Satan might hurl you down! "Be not high-minded, but fear." And with respect to others, honor their gifts, contemplate their excellences only to imitate them. Speak kindly, act gently, "condescend to men of low estate." Be assured, no happiness is equal to that enjoyed by the "_meek Christian_." He has within him a perpetual inner sunshine, a perennial well-spring of peace. Never ruffled and fretted by real or imagined injuries, he puts the best construction on motives and actions, and by a gentle answer to unmerited reproach often disarms wrath. "ARM YOURSELVES LIKEWISE WITH THE SAME MIND." Sixth Day. THANKFULNESS. "I thank Thee, O Father, Lord of heaven and earth."--Matt. xi. 25. A thankful spirit pervaded the entire life of Jesus, and surrounded with a heavenly halo His otherwise darkened path. In moments we least expect to find it, this beauteous ray breaks through the gloom. In instituting the memorial of His _death_, He "_gave thanks_!" Even in crossing the Kedron to Gethsemane, "He sang an hymn!" We know in seasons of deep sorrow and trial that every thing wears a gloomy aspect. Dumb Nature herself to the burdened spirit seems as if she partook in the hues of sadness. The life of Jesus was one continuous experience of privation and woe--a "Valley of Baca," from first to last; yet, amid accents of plaintive sorrow, there are ever heard subdued undertones of _thankfulness_ and joy! Ah, if He, the suffering "Man of sorrows," could, during a life of unparalleled woe, lift up His heart in grateful acknowledgment to His Father in heaven, how ought the lives of those to be one perpetual "hymn of thankfulness," who are from day to day and hour to hour (for all they have, both temporally and spiritually) pensioners on God's bounty and love! Reader! cultivate this thankful spirit; it will be to thee a perpetual feast. There is, or ought to be, with us no such thing as _small_ mercies; all are _great_, because the least are undeserved. Indeed, a really thankful heart will extract motive for gratitude from every thing, making the most even of scanty blessings. St. Paul, when in his dungeon at Rome, a prisoner in chains, is heard to say, "I have _all_, and abound!" Guard, on the other hand, against that spirit of continual fretting and moping over fancied ills; that temptation to exaggerate the real or supposed disadvantages of our condition, magnifying the trifling inconveniences of every-day life into enormous evils. Think, rather, how much we have to be thankful for. The world in which we live, in spite of all the scars of sin and suffering upon it, is a happy world. It is not, as many would morbidly paint it, flooded with tears and strewn with wrecks, plaintive with a perpetual dirge of sorrow. True, the "Everlasting Hills" are in glory, but there are numberless eminences of grace, and love, and mercy below; many green spots in the lower valley, _many more than we deserve_! God will reward a thankful spirit. Just as on earth, when a man receives with gratitude what is given, we are more disposed to give again, so also, "the _Lord_ loveth" a cheerful "receiver," as well as a cheerful "giver." Let ours, moreover, be a _Gospel_ thankfulness. Let the incense of a grateful spirit rise not only to the Great Giver of all good, but to our Covenant God in Christ. Let it be the spirit of the child exulting in the bounty and beneficence of his _Father's_ house and home! "Giving _thanks_ always for all things unto God and _the Father_, in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ!" While the sweet melody of gratitude vibrates through every successive moment of our daily being, let love to our adorable Redeemer show for _whom_ and for _what_ it is we reserve our notes of loftiest and most fervent praise. Thanks be unto God for His unspeakable gift! "ARM YOURSELVES LIKEWISE WITH THE SAME MIND." Seventh Day. UNSELFISHNESS. "For even Christ pleased not Himself."--Rom. xv. 8. Too legibly are the characters written on the fallen heart and a fallen world--"All seek their own!" Selfishness is the great law of our degenerated nature. When the love of God was dethroned from the soul, self vaulted into the vacant seat, and there, in some one of its Proteus shapes, continues to reign. Jesus stands out for our imitation a grand solitary exception in the midst of a world of selfishness. His entire life was one abnegation of self; a beautiful living embodiment of that charity which "seeketh not her own." He who for others turned water into wine, and provided a miraculous supply for the fainting thousands in the wilderness, exerted no such miraculous power for His own necessities. During His forty days' temptation, no table did He spread for Himself, no booth did He rear for his unpillowed head. Twice do we read of Him shedding tears--on neither occasion were they for Himself. The approach of His cross and passion, instead of absorbing Him in His own approaching suffering, seemed only to elicit new and more gracious promises to His people. When His enemies came to apprehend Him, His only stipulation was for His disciples' release--"Let these go their way." In the very act of departure, with all the boundless glories of eternity in sight, _they_ were still all His care. Ah, how different is the spirit of the world! With how many is day after day only a new oblation to that idol which never darkened with its shadow His Holy heart; pampering their own wishes; "envying and grieving at the good of a neighbor;" unable to brook the praise of a rival; establishing their own reputation on the ruins of another; thus engendering jealousy, discontent, peevishness, and every kindred unholy passion. "But ye have not so learned Christ!" Reader! have you been sitting at the feet of Him who "pleased not Himself"? Are you "dying daily;"--dying to self as well as to sin? Are you animated with _this_ as the high end and aim of existence--to lay out your time, and talents, and opportunities, for God's glory, and the good of your fellow-men; not seeking your own interests, but rather ceding these, if, by doing so, another will be made happier, and your Saviour honored? You may not have it in your power to manifest this "mind of Jesus" on a great scale, by enduring great sacrifices; nor is this required. His denial of self had about it no repulsive austerity; but you can evince its holy influence and sway by innumerable little offices of kindness and good-will; taking a generous interest in the welfare and pursuits of others, or engaging and coöperating in schemes for the mitigation of human misery. Avoid _ostentation_--another repulsive form of self. Be willing to be in the shade; sound no trumpet before you. The evangelist Matthew made a great feast, which was graced by the presence of Jesus; in his Gospel he says not one word about it! Seek to live more constantly and habitually under the constraining influence of the love of Jesus. Selfishness withers and dies beneath Calvary. Ah, believer! if Christ had "pleased Himself," where wouldst _thou_ have _been_ this day? "ARM YOURSELVES LIKEWISE WITH THE SAME MIND." Eighth Day. SUBMISSION TO GOD'S WORD. "Jesus said unto him, It is written."--Matt. iv. 7. We can not fail to be struck, in the course of the Saviour's public teaching, with His constant appeal to the word of God. While, at times, He utters, in His own name, the authoritative behest, "Verily, verily, I say unto you," He as often thus introduces some mighty work, or gives intimation of some impending event in His own momentous life, "These things must come to pass, that _the Scriptures be fulfilled, which saith_." He commands His people to "search the Scriptures;" but He sets the example by searching and submitting to them Himself. Whether he drives the money-changers from their sacrilegious traffic in the temple, or foils his great adversary on the mount of temptation, he does so with the same weapon, "_It is written._" When He rises from the grave, the theme of His first discourse is one impressive tribute to the value and authority of the same sacred oracles. The disciples on the road to Emmaus listen to nothing but a _Bible lesson_. "He expounded unto them in all _the Scriptures_ the things concerning Himself." How momentous the instruction herein conveyed! The necessity of the absolute subjection of the mind to God's written Word--making churches, creeds, ministers, books, religious opinion, all subordinate and subservient to this--"How readest thou?" rebuking the philosophy, falsely so called, that would distort the plain statements of Revelation, and bring them to the bar of proud Reason. If an infallible Redeemer, "a law to Himself," was submissive in all respects to the "_written_ law," shall fallible man refuse to sit with the teachableness of a little child, and listen to the Divine message? There may be, there _is_, in the Bible, what reason staggers at: "we have nothing to draw with, and the well is deep." But, "_Thus saith the Lord_," is enough. Faith does not first ask what the bread is made of, but _eats_ it. It does not analyse the components of the living stream, but with joy draws the water from "the wells of salvation." Reader! take that Word as "the lamp to thy feet, and the light to thy path." In days when false lights are hung out, there is the more need of keeping the eye steadily fixed on the unerring beacon. Make the Bible the arbiter in all difficulties--the ultimate court of appeal. Like Mary, "sit at the feet of Jesus," willing only to learn of Him. How many perplexities it would save you! how many fatal steps in life it would prevent--how many tears! "It is a great matter," says the noblest of modern Christian philosophers, "when the mind dwells on any passage of Scripture, just to think _how true it is_." (_Chalmers' Life_). In every dubious question, when the foot is trembling on debatable ground, knowing not whether to advance or recede, make this the final criterion, "What saith the Scripture?" The world may remonstrate--erring friends may disapprove--Satan may tempt--ingenious arguments may explain away; but, with our finger on the revealed page, let the words of our Great Example be ever a Divine formula for our guidance:--"_This_ commandment have I received of my Father!" "ARM YOURSELVES LIKEWISE WITH THE SAME MIND." Ninth Day. PRAYERFULNESS. "He continued all night in prayer to God."--Luke, vi. 12. We speak of _this_ Christian and _that_ Christian as "a man of prayer." Jesus was emphatically so. The Spirit was "poured upon Him without measure," yet--_He prayed_! He was incarnate wisdom, "needing not that any should teach Him." He was infinite in His power, and boundless in His resources, yet--_He prayed_! How deeply sacred the prayerful memories that hover around the solitudes of Olivet and the shores of Tiberias! He seemed often to turn night into day to redeem moments for prayer, rather than lose the blessed privilege. We are rarely, indeed, admitted into the solemnities of His inner life. The veil of night is generally between us and the Great High Priest, when He entered "the holiest of all;" but we have enough to reveal the depth and fervor, the tenderness and confidingness of this blissful intercommunion with His heavenly Father. No morning dawns without His fetching fresh manna from the mercy-seat. "He wakeneth morning by morning; He wakeneth mine ear to hear as the learned." (Isa. l. 4). Beautiful description!--a praying Redeemer, wakening, as if at early dawn, the ear of His Father, to get fresh supplies for the duties and the trials of the day! All His public acts were consecrated by prayer,--His baptism, His transfiguration, His miracles, His agony, His death. He breathed away His spirit in prayer. "His last breath," says Philip Henry, "was praying breath." How sweet to think, in holding communion with God--_Jesus_ drank of this very brook! He consecrated the bended knee and the silent chamber. He refreshed His fainting spirit at the same great Fountain-head from which it is life for us to draw and death to forsake. Reader! do you complain of your languid spirit, your drooping faith, your fitful affections, your lukewarm love? May you not trace much of what you deplore to an unfrequented chamber? The treasures are locked up from you, because you have suffered the key to rust; the hands hang down because they have ceased to be uplifted in prayer. Without prayer!--It is the pilgrim without a staff--the seaman without a compass--the soldier going unarmed and unharnessed to battle. Beware of encouraging what indisposes to prayer--going to the audience chamber with soiled garments, the din of the world following you, its distracting thoughts hovering unforbidden over your spirit. Can you wonder that the living water refuses to flow through obstructed channels, or the heavenly light to pierce murky vapors! On earth, fellowship with a lofty order of minds imparts a certain nobility to the character; so, in a far higher sense, by communion with God you will be transformed into His image, and get assimilated to His likeness. Make every event in life a reason for fresh going to Him. If difficulted in duty, bring it to the test of prayer. If bowed down with anticipated trial,--"fearing to enter the cloud,"--remember Christ's preparation, "Sit ye here while I go and _pray_ yonder." Let prayer consecrate every thing--your time, talents, pursuits, engagements, joys, sorrows, crosses, losses. By it, rough paths will be made smooth, trials disarmed of their bitterness, enjoyments hallowed and refined, the bread of the world turned into angels' food. "It is in the closet," says Payson, "the battle is lost or won!" "ARM YOURSELVES LIKEWISE WITH THE SAME MIND." Tenth Day. LOVE TO THE BRETHREN. "And walk in love, as Christ also hath loved us."--Eph. v. 2. "Jesus," says a writer, "came from heaven on the wings of love." It was the element in which he moved and walked. He sought to baptize the world afresh with it. When we find Him teaching us by love to vanquish an _enemy_, we need not wonder at the tenderness of His appeals to the _brethren_ to "love one another." Like a fond father impressing his children, how the Divine Teacher lingers over the lesson, "This is _My_ commandment!" If selfishness had guided His actions, we might have expected him to demand all His people's love for himself. But He claims no such monopoly. He not only encourages mutual affection, but He makes it the badge of discipleship! He gives them at once its measure and motive. "Love one another, as I have loved you!" What a love was that!--it reached to the lowliest and humblest,--"Inasmuch as ye did it to the _least_ of these, ye did it unto _Me_." Ah! if such was the Elder Brother's love to His younger brethren, what should the love of these younger brothers be for one another! How humbling that there should be so much that is sadly and strangely unlike the spirit which our blessed Master sought to inculcate alike by precept and example! Individual Christians, why these bitter estrangements, these censorious words, these harsh judgments, this want of kind consideration of the feelings and failings of those who may differ from you? Why are your friendships so often like the summer brook, soon dried? You hope, ere long, to meet in glory. Doubtless when you enter on that "sabbath of love," many a greeting will be this, "Alas! my brother, that on earth I did not love thee more!" Do you see the image of God in a professing believer? It is your duty to love him for the sake of that image. No church, no outward livery, no denominational creed, should prevent your owning and claiming him as a fellow-pilgrim and fellow-heir. It has been said of a portrait, however poor the painting, however unfinished the style, however faulty the touches, however coarse and unseemly the frame, yet if the _likeness_ be faithful, we overlook many subordinate defects. So it is with the Christian: however plain the exterior, however rough the setting, or even manifold the blemishes still found cleaving to a partially-sanctified nature, yet if the Redeemer's _likeness_ be feebly and faintly traced there, we should love the copy for the sake of the Divine Original. There may be other bonds of association and intercourse linking spirit with spirit; family ties, mental congenialities, intellectual tastes, philanthropic pursuits; but that which ought to take the precedence of all, is the love of God's image in the brethren. What will heaven be but this love perfected--loving Christ, and beloved by those who love Him? Reader! seek to love _Him_ more, and you will love His people more. John had more love than the other disciples. Why? He drank deepest of the love within that Bosom on which he delighted to lean, every beat of which was love. "Walk," then, "in love!" Let it be the very foot-road you tread; let your way to heaven be paved with it. Soon shall we come to look within the portal. Then shall every jarring and dissonant note be merged into the sublime harmonies of "the new heavens and the new earth," and we shall all "see eye to eye!" "ARM YOURSELVES LIKEWISE WITH THE SAME MIND." Eleventh Day. SYMPATHY. "Jesus wept."--John, xi. 35. It is an affecting thing to see a Great man in tears! "_Jesus wept!_" It was ever His delight to tread in the footsteps of sorrow--to heal the broken-hearted--turning aside from His own path of suffering to "weep with those that weep." _Bethany!_ That scene, that _word_, is a condensed volume of consolation for yearning and desolate hearts. What a majesty in those tears! He had just been discoursing on Himself as the Resurrection and the Life--the next moment He is a Weeping Man by a human grave, melted in anguished sorrow at a bereaved one's side! Think of the funeral at the gate of Nain, reading its lesson to dejected myriads--"Let thy widows trust in me!" Think of the farewell discourse to His disciples, when, muffling all His own foreseen and anticipated sorrows, He thought only of soothing and mitigating theirs! Think of the affecting pause in that silent procession to Calvary, when He turns round and stills the sobs of those who are tracking His steps with their weeping! Think of that wondrous epitome of human tenderness, just ere His eyes closed in their sleep of agony--in the mightiest crisis of all time--when filial love looked down on an anguished mother, and provided her a son and a home! Ah, was there ever sympathy like this! Son! Brother! Kinsman! Saviour! all in one! The majesty of Godhead almost lost in the tenderness of a Friend. But so it _was_, and so it is. The heart of the now enthroned King beats responsive to the humblest of His sorrow-stricken people. "I am poor and needy, yet the Lord _carries me on His heart_!" (margin.) Let us "go and do likewise." Let us be ready, like our Lord, to follow the beck of misery,--"to deliver the needy when he crieth, the poor also, and him that hath no helper." Sympathy costs but little. Its recompense and return are great, in the priceless consolation it imparts. Few there are who undervalue it. Look at Paul--the weary, jaded prisoner,--chained to a soldier--recently wrecked, about to stand before Cæsar. He reaches Appii Forum and the Three Taverns, dejected and depressed. Brethren come from Rome, a distance of sixty miles, to offer their _sympathy_. The aged man is cheered! His spirit, like Jacob's, "revived!" "He thanked God, and took courage!" Reader! let "this mind," this holy, Christ-like _habit_ be in you, which was also in your adorable Master. Delight, when opportunity occurs, to frequent the house of mourning--to bind up the widow's heart, and to dry the orphan's tears. If you can do nothing else, you can whisper into the ear of disconsolate sorrow those majestic solaces, which, rising first in the graveyard of Bethany, have sent their undying echoes through the world, and stirred the depths of ten thousand hearts. "Exercise your souls," says Butler, "in a loving sympathy with sorrow in every form. Soothe it, minister to it, succor it, revere it. It is the relic of Christ in the world, an image of the Great Sufferer, a shadow of the cross. It is a holy and venerable thing." Jesus Himself "_looked_ for some to take _pity_, but there was _none_; and for comforters, but He found _none_!" It shows how even _He_ valued sympathy, and that, too, in its commonest form of "_pity_," though an ungrateful World denied it. "ARM YOURSELVES LIKEWISE WITH THE SAME MIND." Twelfth Day. FIDELITY IN REBUKE. "The Lord turned and looked upon Peter."--Luke, xxii. 61. Jesus never spake one unnecessarily harsh or severe word. He had a Divine sympathy for the frailties and infirmities of a tried, and suffering, and tempted nature in others. He was forbearing to the ignorant, encouraging to the weak, tender to the penitent, loving to all,--yet how faithful was He as "the Reprover of sin!" Silent under His own wrongs, with what burning invectives did He lay bare the Pharisees' masked corruption and hypocrisy! When His Father's name and temple were profaned, how did He sweep, with an avenging hand, the mammon-crowd away, replacing the superscription, "Holiness to the Lord," over the defiled altars! Nor was it different with His own disciples. With what fidelity, when rebuke was needed, did He administer it: the withering reprimand conveyed sometimes by an impressive _word_ (Matt. xvi. 23); sometimes by a silent _look_ (Luke, xxii. 61). "Faithful always were the wounds of _this_ Friend." Reader! art thou equally faithful with thy Lord in rebuking evil; not with "the wrath of man, which worketh not the righteousness of God," but with a holy jealousy of His glory, feeling, with the sensitive honor of "the good soldier of Jesus Christ," that an affront offered to Him is offered to thyself? The giving of a wise reproof requires much Christian prudence and delicate discretion. It is not by a rash and inconsiderate exposure of failings that we must attempt to reclaim an erring brother. But neither, for the sake of a false peace, must we compromise fidelity; even friendship is too dearly purchased by winking at sin. Perhaps, when Peter was led to call the Apostle who honestly reproved him, "Our beloved brother Paul," in nothing did he love his rebuker more, than for the honest boldness of his Christian reproof. If Paul had, in that crisis of the Church, with a timidity unworthy of him, evaded the ungracious task, what, humanly speaking, might have been the result? How often does a seasonable reprimand, a faithful caution, save a lifetime of sin and sorrow! How many a death-bed has made the disclosure, "That kind warning of my friend put an arrest on my career of guilt; it altered my whole being; it brought me to the cross, touched my heart, and, by God's grace, saved my soul!" On the other hand, how many have felt, when death has put his impressive seal on some close earthly intimacy, "This friend, or that friend,--I might have spoken a solemn word to him; but now he is no more; the opportunity is lost, never to be recalled!" Reader! see that you act not the spiritual coward. When tempted to sit silent when the name of God is slighted or dishonored, think, _would Jesus have done so_?--would _He_ have allowed the oath to go unrebuked--the lie to be uttered unchallenged--the Sabbath with impunity to be profaned? Where there is a natural diffidence which makes you shrink from a more bold and open reproof, remember much may be done to discountenance sin, by the silent holiness of demeanor which refuses to smile at the unholy allusion or ribald jest. "A word spoken in due season, how good is it!" "Speak gently," yet speak faithfully: "be pitiful--be courteous:" yet "quit you like men; be strong!" "ARM YOURSELVES LIKEWISE WITH THE SAME MIND." Thirteenth Day. GENTLENESS IN REBUKE. "Simon, son of Jonas, lovest thou me?"--John, xxi. 15. No word here of the erring disciple's past faithlessness;--his guilty cowardice--_unmentioned_;--his base denial--his oaths--and curses, and treacherous desertion--all _unmentioned_! The memory of a threefold denial is _suggested_, and no more, by the threefold question of unutterable tenderness, "Simon, son of Jonas, lovest thou me?" When Jesus finds His disciples sleeping at the gate of Gethsemane, He rebukes them; but how is the rebuke disarmed of its poignancy by the merciful apology which is added--"The spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak!" How different from _their_ unkind insinuation regarding _Him_, when, in the vessel on Tiberias, "He was asleep"--"Master carest thou not that we perish!" The woman of Samaria is full of earthliness, carnality, sectarianism, guilt. Yet how gently the Saviour speaks to her--how forbearingly, yet faithfully. He directs the arrow of conviction to that seared and hardened conscience, till He lays it bleeding at His feet! Truly, "He will not break the bruised reed--He will not quench the smoking flax." By "the _goodness_ of God," He would lead to repentance. When others are speaking of merciless violence, He can dismiss the most guilty of profligates with the words, "Neither do I condemn thee; go, and sin no more." How many have an unholy pleasure in finding a brother in the wrong--blazing abroad his failings; administering rebuke, not in gentle forbearance and kindly expostulation, but with harsh and impatient severity! How beautifully did Jesus unite intense sensibility to sin, along with tenderest compassion for the sinner, showing in this that "He knoweth our frame!" Many a scholar needs gentleness in chastisement. The reverse would crush a sensitive spirit, or drive it to despair. Jesus tenderly "considers" the case of those He disciplines, "tempering the wind to the shorn lamb." In the picture of the good shepherd bearing home the wandering sheep, He illustrated by parable what He had often and again taught by His own example. No word of needless harshness or upbraiding uttered to the erring wanderer! Ingratitude is too deeply felt to need rebuke! In silent love, "He lays it on His shoulders rejoicing." Reader! seek to mingle gentleness in all your rebukes; bear with the infirmities of others; make allowance for constitutional frailties; never say harsh things, if kind things will do as well; do not unnecessarily lacerate with recalling former delinquencies. In reproving another, let us rather feel how much we need reproof ourselves. "Consider thyself," is a searching Scripture motto for dealing with an erring brother. Remember thy Lord's method of silencing fierce accusation--"Let him that is without sin cast the first stone." Moreover, anger and severity are not the successful means of reclaiming the backslider, or of melting the obdurate. Like the _smooth_ stones with which David smote Goliath, _gentle_ rebukes are generally the most powerful. The old fable of the traveller and his cloak has a moral here as in other things. The genial sunshine will effect its removal sooner than the rough tempest. It was said of Leighton, that "he rebuked faults so mildly, that they were never repeated, not because the admonished were afraid, but ashamed to do so." "ARM YOURSELVES LIKEWISE WITH THE SAME MIND." Fourteenth Day. ENDURANCE IN CONTRADICTION. "Who endured such contradiction of sinners against Himself."-- Heb. xii. 3. What endurance was this! Perfect truth in the midst of error; perfect love in the midst of ingratitude and coldness; perfect rectitude in the midst of perjury, violence, fraud; perfect constancy in the midst of contumely and desertion; perfect innocence, confronting every debased form of depravity and guilt; perfect patience, encountering every species of gross provocation--"oppressed and afflicted, He opened not His mouth!" "For my love" (in return for my love), "they are mine adversaries; _but_" (see His endurance!--the only species of revenge of which His sinless nature was capable) "_I give myself unto prayer!_" (Ps. cix. 4.) Reader! "let this mind be in you, which was also in Christ Jesus!" The greatest test of an earthly soldier's courage is _patient endurance_! The noblest trait of the spiritual soldier is the same. "Having done all _to stand_," "He _endured_, as seeing Him who is invisible!" Beware of the angry recrimination, the hasty ebullition of temper. Amid unkind insinuations--when motives are misrepresented, and reputation assailed; when good deeds are ridiculed, kind intentions coldly thwarted and repulsed, chilling reserve manifested where you expected nothing but friendship--what a triumph over natural impulse to manifest a spirit of meek endurance!--like a rainbow, radiant with the hues of heaven, resting peacefully amid the storms of derision and "the floods of ungodly men." What an opportunity of magnifying the "sustaining grace of God!" "It is a small thing for me to be judged of you, or of man's judgment; He that judgeth me is the Lord." "The Lord is on my side; I will not fear what man can do unto me." "Blessed is the man that _endureth_." "He that _endureth_ to the end, the same shall be saved." If faithful to our God, we must expect to encounter contradiction in the same form which Jesus did--"the contradiction of _sinners_." It has been well said, "There is no cross of nails and wood erected now for the Christian, but there is one of words and looks which is never taken down." If believers are set as lights in the earth, lamps in the "city of destruction," we know that "he that doeth evil _hateth_ the light." "Marvel not, my brethren, if the world hate you!" Weary and faint ones, exposed to the shafts of calumny and scorn because of your fidelity to your God; encountering, it may be, the coldness and estrangement of those dear to you, who can not, perhaps, sympathize in the holiness of your walk and the loftiness of your aims, "consider _Him_ that endured such contradiction of sinners against Himself, _lest_ ye be weary and faint in your minds!" What is _your_ "contradiction" to _His_? Soon your cross, whatever it be, will have an end. "The seat of the scorner" has no place in yonder glorious heaven, where all will be peace--no jarring note to disturb its blissful harmonies! Look forward to the great coronation-day of the Church triumphant,--the day of your divine Lord's appearing, when motives and aims, now misunderstood, will be vindicated, wrongs redressed, calumnies and aspersions wiped away. Meanwhile, "rejoice that you are counted worthy to suffer shame for His name." "ARM YOURSELVES LIKEWISE WITH THE SAME MIND." Fifteenth Day. PLEASING GOD. "I do always those things that please Him."--John, viii. 29. What a glorious motto for a man--"_I live for God!_" It is religion's truest definition. It is the essence of angelic bliss--the motive-principle of angelic action; "Ye ministers of His, that do His pleasure." The Lord of angels knew no higher, no _other_ motive. It was, during His incarnation, the regulator and directory of His daily being. It supported Him amid the depressing sorrows of His woe-worn path. It upheld him in their awful termination in the garden and on the cross. For a moment, sinking human nature faltered under the load His Godhead sustained; but the thought of "pleasing God" nerved and revived Him. "Not my will, but _Thine_ be done." It is only when the love of God is shed abroad in the heart, that this animating desire to "please Him" can exist. In the holy bosom of Jesus, that love reigned paramount, admitting no rival--no competing affection. Though infinitely inferior in degree, it is the same impelling principle which leads His people still to link enjoyment with His service, and which makes consecration to Him of heart and life its own best recompense and reward. "There is a gravitation," says one whose life was the holy echo of his words, "in the moral as in the physical world. When love to God is habitually in the ascendant, or occupying the place of will, it gathers round it all the other desires of the soul as satellites, and whirls them along with it in its orbit round the center of attraction." (_Hewitson's Life._) Till the heart, then, be changed, the believer can not have "this testimony that he _pleases God_." The world, self, sin--these be the gods of the unregenerate soul. And even _when_ changed, alas that there should be so many ebbings and flowings in our tide of devotedness! Jesus could say, "I do _always_ those things that please the Father." Glory to God burned within His bosom like a living fire. "Many waters could not quench it." His were no fitful and inconsistent frames and feelings, but the persistent habit of a holy life, which had the one end in view, from which it never diverged or deviated. Let it be so, in some lowly measure with us. Let God's service not be the mere livery of high days,--of set times and seasons; but, like the alabaster box of ointment, let us ever be giving forth the fragrant perfume of holiness. Even when the shadows of trial are falling around us, let us "pass through the cloud" with the sustaining motive--"All my wish, O God, is to please and glorify Thee! By giving or taking--by smiting or healing--by the sweet cup or the bitter--'Father, glorify thy name!'" "I don't want to be weary of God's dealing with me," said Bickersteth, on his death-bed; "I want to glorify Jesus in them, and to find Him more precious." Do I shrink from trials--duties--crosses--because involving hardships and self-denial, or because frowned on by the world? Let the thought of God's approving countenance be enough. Let me dread no censure, if conscious of acting in accordance with _His_ will. Let the Apostle's monitory word determine many a perplexing path--"If I please men, I am not the servant of Christ." "ARM YOURSELVES LIKEWISE WITH THE SAME MIND." Sixteenth Day. GRIEF AT SIN. "Being grieved for the hardness of their hearts."--Mark, iii. 5. On this one occasion only is the expression used with reference to Jesus--(what intensity of emotion does it denote, spoken of a sinless nature!)--"He looked round on them _with anger_!" Never did He grieve for Himself. His intensest sorrows were reserved for those who were tampering with their own souls, and dishonoring His God. The continual spectacle of moral evil, thrust on the gaze of spotless purity, made His earthly history one consecutive history of grief, one perpetual "cross and passion." In the tears shed at the grave of Bethany, sympathy, doubtless, for the world's myriad mourners, had its own share (the bereaved could not part with so precious a tribute in their hours of sadness), but a far more impressive cause was one undiscerned by the weeping sisters and sorrowing crowd; His knowledge of the deep and obdurate impenitence of those who were about to gaze on the mightiest of miracles, only to "despise, and wonder, and perish." "_Jesus wept!_"--but His profoundest anguish was over resisted grace, abused privileges, scorned mercy. It was the Divine Artificer mourning over His shattered handiwork; the Almighty Creator weeping over His ruined world; God, the God-man, "grieving" over the Temple of the soul, a humiliating wreck of what once was made "after His own image!" Can we sympathize in any respect with such exalted tears? Do we mourn for sin, our _own_ sin--the deep insult which it inflicts on God--the ruinous consequences it entails on ourselves? Do we grieve at sin in _others_? Do we know any thing of "vexing our souls," like righteous Lot, "from day to day," with the world's "unlawful deeds," the stupid hardness and obduracy of the depraved heart, which resists alike the appliances of wrath and love, judgment and mercy? Ah! it is easy, in general terms, to condemn vice, and to utter harsh, severe, and cutting denunciations on the guilty: it is easy to pass uncharitable comments on the inconsistencies or follies of others: but to "_grieve_" as our Lord did, is a different thing; to mourn over the hardness of heart, and yet to have the burning desire to teach it better things; to hate, as He did, the sin, but, like Him also, to love the _sinner_! Reader! look specially to your own spirit. In one respect, the example of Jesus falls short of your case. He had no sin of His own to mourn over. He could only commiserate others. _Your_ intensest grief must begin with _yourself_. Like the watchful Levite of old, be a guardian at the temple-gates of your own soul. Whatever be your besetting iniquity, your constitutional bias to sin, seek to guard it with wakeful vigilance. Grieve at the thought of incurring one passing shadow of displeasure from so kind and compassionate a Saviour. Let this be a holy preservative in your every hour of temptation, "How can I do this great wickedness, and sin against God?" Grieve for a perishing world--a groaning creation fettered and chained in unwilling "subjection to vanity." Do what you can, by effort, by prayer, to hasten on the hour of jubilee, when its ashy robes of sin and sorrow shall be laid aside, and, attired in the "beauties of holiness," it shall exult in "the glorious liberty of the sons of God!" "ARM YOURSELVES LIKEWISE WITH THE SAME MIND." Seventeenth Day. HUMILITY. "He riseth from supper, and laid aside His garments; and took a towel and girded Himself. After that He poureth water into a basin, and began to wash the disciples' feet."--John, xiii. 4, 5. What a matchless picture of humility! At the very moment when His throne was in view; angel-anthems floating in His ear; the hour come "when He was to depart out of this world;" possessing a lofty consciousness of His peerless dignity, that "He came _from_ God and went _to_ God;" THEN "Jesus took a towel, and girded Himself, and began to wash the disciples' feet!" All heaven was ready at that moment to cast their combined crowns at His feet. But the High and the Lofty One, inhabiting eternity, is on earth "as one that serveth!" "That _infinite stoop_! it sinks all creature humiliation to nothing, and renders it impossible for a creature to _humble_ himself."--(_Evans_). Humility follows Him, from His unhonored birthplace to His borrowed grave. It throws a subdued splendor over all He did. "The poor in spirit,"--the "mourner,"--the "meek,"--claim His first beatitudes. He was severe only to one class--those who looked down upon others. However He is employed; whether performing His works of miraculous power, or receiving angel-visitants, or taking little children in His arms, He stands forth "clothed with humility." Nay, this humility becomes more conspicuous as He draws nearer glory. Before His death, He calls His disciples "_Friends_;" subsequently, it is "_Brethren_," "_Children_." How sad the contrast between the Master and His disciples! Two hours had not elapsed after He washed their feet, when "there was a strife among them which should be the greatest!" Let the mental image of that lowly Redeemer be ever bending over us. His example may well speak in silent impressiveness, bringing us down from our pedestal of pride. There surely can be no labor of love too humiliating when _He_ stooped so low. Let us be content to take the humblest place; not envious of the success or exaltation of another; not, "like Diotrephes, loving preëminence;" "but willing to be thought little of;" saying with the Baptist, with our eye on our Lord, "He must increase, but I must decrease!" How much we have cause to be humble for! the constant cleaving of defilement to our souls; and even what is partially good in us, how mixed with imperfection, self-seeking, arrogance, vain-glory! A proud Christian is a contradiction in terms. The Seraphim of old (type of the Christian Church, and of believers) had six wings--_two_ were for errands of love, but "with _four_ he _covered_ himself!" It has been beautifully said, "You lie nearest the River of Life when you _bend_ to it; you can not drink, but as you _stoop_." The corn of the field, as it ripens, bows its head; so the Christian, as he ripens in the Divine life, bends in this lowly grace. Christ speaks of His people as "lilies"--they are "lilies of _the valley_," they can only grow in the shade! "Humble yourselves under the mighty hand of God." "Go" with what Rutherford calls "a low sail." It is the livery of your blessed Master; the family badge--the family likeness. "With this man will I dwell, even with him that is _humble_." Yes! the humble, sanctified heart is God's _second Heaven_! "ARM YOURSELVES LIKEWISE WITH THE SAME MIND." Eighteenth Day. PATIENCE. "He was brought as a lamb to the slaughter."--Isa. liii, 7. How great was the _patience_ of Jesus! Even among His own disciples, how forbearingly He endured their blindness, their misconceptions and hardness of heart! Philip had been for three years with Him, yet he had "not known Him!"--all that time he had remained in strange and culpable ignorance of his Lord's dignity and glory. See how tenderly Jesus bears with him; giving him nothing in reply for his confession of ignorance but unparalleled promises of grace! Peter, the honored and trusted, becomes a renegade and a coward. Justly might his dishonored Lord, stung with such unrequited love, have cut the unworthy cumberer down. But He spares him, bears with him, gently rebukes him, and loves him more than ever! See the Divine Sufferer in the terminating scenes of His own ignominy and woe. How patient!--"As a sheep before her shearers is dumb, so He opened not His mouth." In these awful moments, outraged Omnipotence might have summoned twelve legions of angels and put into the hand of each a vial of wrath. But He submits in meek, majestic silence. Verily, in _Him_ "patience had her _perfect_ work!" Think of this same patience with His Church and people since He ascended to glory. The years upon years He has borne with their perverse resistance of His grace, their treacherous ingratitude, their wayward wanderings, their hardness of heart and contempt of His holy word. Yet, behold the forbearing love of this Saviour of God! His hand of mercy is "stretched out still!" Child of God! art thou now undergoing some bitter trial? The way of thy God, it may be, all mystery; no footprints of love traceable in the checkered path; no light, in the clouds above; no ray in the dark future. _Be patient!_ "The Lord is good to them that _wait_ for Him." "They that _wait_ on the Lord shall renew their strength!" Or hast thou been long tossed on some bed of sickness--days of pain and nights of weariness appointed thee? _Be patient!_ "I trust this groaning," said a suffering saint, "is not murmuring." God, by this very affliction, is nurturing within thee this beauteous grace which shone so conspicuously in the character of thy dear Lord. With Him it was a lovely _habit_ of the soul. With thee, the "tribulation" which worketh "patience" is needful discipline. It is _good_ for a man that he should both hope and quietly _wait_ for the salvation of God. Art thou suffering some unmerited wrong or unkindness, exposed to harsh and wounding accusations, hard for flesh and blood to bear? _Be patient!_ Beware of hastiness of speech or temper; remember how much evil may be done by a few inconsiderate words "spoken unadvisedly with the lip." Think of Jesus standing before a human tribunal, in the silent submissiveness of conscious innocence and integrity. Leave thy cause with God. Let this be the only form of thy complaint, "O God, I am oppressed; undertake Thou for me!" "In patience," then, "possess ye your souls." Let it not be a grace for peculiar seasons, called forth on peculiar exigences; but an habitual frame manifested in the calm serenity of a daily walk;--placidity amid the little fretting annoyances of every-day life--a fixed purpose of the heart to wait upon God, and cast its every burden upon Him. "ARM YOURSELVES LIKEWISE WITH THE SAME MIND." Nineteenth Day. SUBJECTION. "As the Father gave me commandment, even so I do."--John, xiv. 31. Jesus as God-man had omnipotence slumbering in His arm. He had the hoarded treasures of eternity in His grasp. He had only to "speak, and it was done." But, as an example to His people, His whole life on earth was one impressive act of subordination and dependence. At Nazareth He was "subject to His parents." There He remained in studied obscurity, occupying for thirty years a lowly hut, willing to continue in a state of seclusion, till the Father's summons called Him to His appointed work. At His baptism, sinless Himself, He gives this reason for receiving a sinner's rite at a sinner's hands--"Suffer it to be so now, for thus it becometh Me to fulfill all righteousness." The same beautiful spirit of filial _subjection_ shines conspicuous amid His acts of stupendous power. "Jesus lifted up His eyes and said, Father, I thank Thee that Thou hast heard Me; and I know that Thou hearest Me always; but because of the people which stand by, I said it, that they may believe that Thou has sent Me." Even among His own disciples His language is, "I am among you as He that serveth." With an act of submission He closed His pilgrimage and work of love. "Father, into Thy hands I commend My spirit." What an example to us, in all this, is our beloved Lord! Surely, if _He_, "God only wise"--the Self-existent One, to whom "all power was committed;"--the Sinless One, never liable to err, on whom "the Spirit was poured without measure"--if _He_ manifested such habitual dependence on His heavenly Father, how earnestly ought _we_, weak, erring, fallible creatures, to seek to live every hour--every moment--as pensioners on God's grace and love, following in all things His directing hand! As the servant has his eyes on his master, or the child on its parent, "so should our eyes be on the Lord our God." Howsoever He speaks, be it ours with all docility to follow the voice, indorsing every utterance of providence, and every precept of Scripture, with our Lord's own words, "_This is the Father's will!_" Beware of self-dependence. The first step in spiritual declension is this: "Let him that _thinketh he standeth_!" The secret of real strength is this: "_Kept_ by the _power of God_!" How it sweetens all our blessings, and alleviates all our sorrows, to regard both as emanations from a loving Father's hand. Even if we should be, like the disciples of old, "_constrained_" to go into the ship; if all should be darkness and tempest, frowning providences--"the wind contrary;" how blessed to feel that in embarking on the unquiet element, "the Lord has bidden us!" Paul could not speak even of taking an earthly journey, without the parenthesis ("if the Lord will"). How many trials, and sorrows, and _sins_, would it save us, if the same were the habitual regulator of our daily life! It would lead to calm contentment with our lot, hushing every disquieting suggestion with the thought that that lot, with all that is apparently adverse in it, was _ordained_ for us. It would teach us not to be aspiring after _great_ things, but humbly to wait the will and purposes of a wise Provider; not to go _before_ our Heavenly Guide, but to _follow_ Him, saying, in meek subjection, "Lord, my heart is not haughty, nor mine eyes lofty, neither do I exercise myself in great matters, or in things too high for for me ... my soul is even as a weaned child!" "ARM YOURSELVES LIKEWISE WITH THE SAME MIND." Twentieth Day. NOT RETALIATING. "Who, when He was reviled, reviled not again."--1 Peter, ii. 23. What a common dictate of the fallen and regenerate heart to resent and recriminate! How alien to natural feeling to answer cutting taunts, and meet unmerited wrong with the Divine method the Gospel prescribes--"Overcome evil with good!" It was in the closing scenes of the Saviour's humiliation, when, silent and unresenting, He stood "dumb before His shearers," that this beautiful feature in His character was most wondrously manifested; but it beams forth, also, for our imitation in the ordinary and less prominent incidents of His pilgrimage. When He met Nathanael of Cana in Galilee, He found him clinging to an unreasonable prejudice--"Can any good thing come out of Nazareth?" The severe remark is allowed to pass unnoticed. Overlooking the unkind insinuation, the Saviour fixes on the favorable feature of his character, "Behold an Israelite indeed, in whom is no guile!" After His resurrection, He appears to His disciples. They were cowering in shame, half afraid to confront the glance of injured goodness. He breathes on them, and says, "Peace be unto you!" Peter was the one of all the rest who had most reason to dread estranged looks and upbraiding words; but a special message is sent to reassure that trembling spirit that there was no alienation in the unresentful Heart he had so deeply wounded; "Go and tell the disciples ... and _Peter_!" Even when Judas first revealed himself to his Lord as the betrayer, we believe it was not in bitter irony or rebuke, but in the fullness of pitying tenderness, that Jesus addressed him, "Friend, wherefore art thou come?" Tears and prayers were His only revenge on the city and scene of His murder. "Beginning at Jerusalem," was the closing illustration of a spirit "not of this world"--a significant parting testimony that in the bosom that uttered it retaliation had no place. More than one of the disciples seem to have imbibed much of this "mind" of their Lord. "We owe St. Paul," says Augustine, "to the death of Stephen;" "they stoned Stephen ... and he kneeled down and cried with a loud voice, Lord! lay not this sin to their charge." Take another example: The great Apostle of the Gentiles felt himself under a painful necessity faithfully to rebuke Peter in presence of the whole Church. He had _recorded_ that rebuke, too, in one of his epistles. It was thus to be handed down to every age as a permanent and humiliating evidence of the wavering inconstancy of his fellow-laborer. Peter, doubtless, must have felt acutely the severity of the chastisement. Does he resent it? He, too, puts on record, long after, in one of his own epistles a sentence regarding his Rebuker, but it is this--"Our _beloved brother_ Paul!" Reader! when tempted to utter the harsh word, or give the cutting or hasty answer, seek to check yourself with the question, "Is this the reply my Saviour would have given?" If your fellow-men should prove unkind, inconsiderate, ungrateful, be it yours to refer the cause to God. Speak of the faults of others only in prayer; manifesting more sorrow for the sin of the censorious and unkind, than for the evil inflicted on yourselves. _Retaliate!_ No such word should have a place in the Christian's vocabulary. _Retaliate!_ If I cherish such a spirit towards my brother, how can I meet that brother in heaven?--"But ye have not so learned in Christ." "ARM YOURSELVES LIKEWISE WITH THE SAME MIND." Twenty-first Day. BEARING THE CROSS. "And He bearing His cross."--John, xix. 17. When did Jesus bear the cross? Not that moment alone, surely, when the bitter tree was placed on His shoulders, on the way to Golgotha. Its vision may be said to have risen before Him in His infant dreams in Bethlehem's cradle; there, rather, its reality began; and He ceased not to carry it, till His work was finished, and the victory won! A _cloud_, of old, hovered over the mercy-seat in the tabernacle and temple. So it was with the Great Antitype--the living Mercy-Seat--He had ever a cloud of woe hanging over him. "He _carried_ our sorrows." Reader! dwell much and often under the shadow of your Lord's cross, and it will lead you to think lightly of your own! If _He_ gave utterance to not one murmuring word, canst _thou_ complain? "If we were deeper students of his bitter anguish, we should think less of the ripplings of our waves, amidst His horrible tempest."--(_Evans._) The saint's cross assumes many and diverse shapes. Sometimes it is the bitter trial, the crushing pang of bereavement--desolate households, and aching hearts. Sometimes it is the crucifixion of sin, the determined battle with "lusts which war against the soul." Sometimes it is the resistance of evil maxims and practices of a lying world; vindicating the honor of Christ, in the midst, it may be, of taunt, and obloquy, and shame. And as there are different crosses, so there are different ways of bearing them. To some, God says, "put your shoulder to the burden; lift it up, and bear it on; work, and toil, and labor!" To others, He says, "Be still, bear it, and _suffer_!" Believer! thy cross may be hard to endure; it may involve deep struggles--tears by day, watchings by night; bear it meekly, patiently, justifying God's wisdom in laying it on. Rejoice in the assurance that He gives not one atom more of earthly trial than He sees to be really needful; not one redundant thorn pierces your feet. In the very bearing of the cross for _His_ sake, there are mighty compensations. What new views of your Saviour's love! His truth, His promises, His sustaining grace, His sufferings, His glory! What new filial nearness; increased delight in prayer; an inner sunshine when it is darkest without! The waves cover you, but underneath them all, are "the everlasting arms!" Do not look out for a situation _without_ crosses. Be not over anxious about "smooth paths;"--leaving your God, as Orpah did Naomi, just when the cross requires to be carried. Immoderate earthly enjoyments--unbroken earthly prosperity--write upon these, "_Beware!_" You may live to see them become your greatest trials! Remember the old saying, "No cross, no crown." The sun of the saint's life generally struggles through "weeping clouds." One of the loveliest passages of Scripture is that in which, the portals of heaven being opened, we overhear this dialogue between two ransomed ones--"And one of the elders answered saying unto me, What are these which are arrayed in white robes, and whence came they? And I said unto him, Sir, thou knowest. And he said to me, _These are they which came out of great tribulation!_" "ARM YOURSELVES LIKEWISE WITH THE SAME MIND." Twenty-second Day. HOLY ZEAL. "The zeal of Thine house hath eaten me up."--John, ii. 17. "Zeal, is a principle; enthusiasm is a feeling. The one is a spark of a sanguine temperament and overheated imagination. The other, a sacred flame kindled at God's altar, and burning in God's shrine."--(_Vaughan._) Such was the holy, heavenly zeal of our Great Exemplar! His were no transient outbursts of ardor, which time cooled and difficulties impeded. His life was one indignant protest against sin;--one ceaseless current of undying love for souls, which all the malignity of foes, and unkindness of friends, could not for one moment divert from its course. Even when He rises from the dead, and we imagine His work at an end, His zeal only meditates fresh deeds of love. "Still His heart and His care," says Godwin, "is upon doing more. Having now dispatched that great work on earth, He sends His disciples word that He is hastening to heaven as fast as He can, to do another." (John, xx. 17). Reader! do you know any thing of this zeal, which "many waters could not quench"? See that, like your Lord's, it be steady, sober, consistent, undeviating. How many are, like the children of Ephraim, "carrying bows"--all zealous when zeal demands no sacrifice, but "turning their backs in the day of battle!" Others "running well" for a time, but gradually "hindered," through the benumbing influences of worldliness, selfishness, and sin. Two disciples, apparently equally devoted and zealous, send through Paul, in one of his epistles, a conjoint Christian salutation--"Luke and Demas greet you." A few years afterward, thus he writes from his Roman dungeon--"Only _Luke_ is with me," "_Demas_ hath _forsaken_ me, having loved this present world!" While zeal is commendable, remember the Apostle's qualification, "It is good to be zealously affected always in a _good_ thing." There is in these days much base coin current, _called_ "zeal," which bears not the image and superscription of Jesus. There is zeal for church-membership and party; zeal for creeds and dogmas; zeal for figments and non-essentials. "From such turn aside." Your Lord stamped with His example and approval no such counterfeits. _His_ zeal was ever brought to bear on two objects, and two objects alone--_the glory of God_ and _the good of man_. Be it so with _you_. Enter, first of all (as He did the earthly temple), the sanctuary of _your own heart_, with "the scourge of small cords." Drive out every unhallowed intruder there. Do not suffer yourself to be deceived. Others may call such jealous searchings of spirit "sanctimoniousness" and "enthusiasm." But remember, to be _almost saved_, is to be _altogether lost_!--to be zealous about every thing but "the one thing needful," is an insult to God and your everlasting interests! Have a zeal for _others_. Dying myriads are around you. As a member of the Christian priesthood, it becomes you to rush in with your censer and incense between the living and the dead, "that the plague may be stayed!" Be it yours to say, "Blessed Jesus! I am _Thine_!--Thine only!--Thine wholly!--Thine for ever! I am willing to follow Thee, and (if need be) to _suffer_ for Thee. I am ready at Thy bidding to leave the homestead in the valley, and to face the cutting blasts of the mountain. Take me--use me for Thy glory. 'Lord! what wilt Thou have me to do?'" "ARM YOURSELVES LIKEWISE WITH THE SAME MIND." Twenty-third Day. BENEVOLENCE. "Who went about doing good."--Acts, x. 38. "Christ's great end," says Richard Baxter, "was to save men from their _sins_; but He delighted to save them from their _sorrows_." His heart bled for human misery. Benevolence brought Him from heaven; benevolence followed His steps wherever He went on earth. The journeys of the Divine Philanthropist were marked by tears of thankfulness, and breathings of grateful love. The helpless, the blind, the lame, the desolate, rejoiced at the sound of His footfall. Truly might it be said of Him, "When the ear heard me, then it blessed me; and when the eye saw me, it gave witness to me." (Job, xxix. 11.) All suffering hearts were a magnet to Jesus. It was not more His prerogative than His happiness to turn tears into smiles. One of the few pleasures which on earth gladdened the spirit of the "Man of sorrows" was the pleasure of _doing good_--soothing grief, and alleviating misery. Next to the joy of the widow of Nain when her son was restored, was the joy in the bosom of the Divine Restorer! He often went out of His way to be kind. A journey was not grudged, even if _one_ aching spirit were to be soothed. (Mark, v. 1; John, iv. 4, 5.) Nor were his kindnesses dispensed through the intervention of others. They were all personal acts. His own hand healed. His own voice spake. His own footsteps lingered on the threshold of bereavement, or at the precincts of the tomb. Ah! had the princes of this world known the loving-tenderness and unselfishness of _that_ heart, "they would not have crucified the Lord of Glory"! Reader! do you know any thing of such active benevolence? Have you never felt the _luxury_ of doing good? Have you never felt, that in making _others_ happy, you make _your self_ so? that, by a great law of your being, enunciated by the Divine Patron and Pattern of Benevolence, "it is more blessed to give than to receive"? Has God enriched you with this world's goods? Seek to view yourself as a consecrated medium for dispensing them to others. Beware alike of penurious hoarding and selfish extravagance. How sad the case of those whose lot God has made thus to abound with temporal mercies, who have gone to the grave unconscious of diminishing one drop of human misery, or making one of the world's myriad aching hearts happier! How the example of _Jesus_ rebukes the cold and calculating kindnesses--the mite-like offerings of many even of His own people! "whose libation is not like His, from the brim of an overflowing cup, but from the bottom--from the _dregs_!" You may have little to give. Your sphere and means may be alike limited. But remember God can be as much glorified by the trifle saved from the earnings of poverty, as by the splendid benefaction from the lap of plenty "The Lord loveth a _cheerful_ giver." The nobler part of Christian benevolence is not vast largesses, munificent pecuniary sacrifices. "_He went about_ doing good." The merciful visit--the friendly word--the look of sympathy--the cup of cold water, the little unostentatious service--the giving without thought or hope of recompense--the kindly "considering of the poor"--anticipating their wants--studying their comforts; these are what God values and loves. They are "loans" to Himself--tributary streams to "the river of _His_ pleasure;" they will be acknowledged at last as such--"Ye did it unto _Me_." "ARM YOURSELVES LIKEWISE WITH THE SAME MIND." Twenty-fourth Day. FIRMNESS IN TEMPTATION. "Jesus saith unto him, Get thee hence, Satan."--Matt. iv. 10. There is an awful intensity of meaning in the words, as applied to Jesus, "He _suffered_, being tempted!" Though incapable of sin, there was, in the refined sensibilities of His holy nature, that which made temptation unspeakably fearful. What must it have been to confront the Arch-traitor?--to stand face to face with the foe of His throne, and His universe? But the "prince of this world" came, and found "nothing in Him." Billow after billow of Satanic violence spent their fury, in vain, on the Living Rock! Reader! you have still the same malignant enemy to contend with; assailing you in a thousand insidious forms; marvelously adapting his assaults to your circumstances, your temperament, your mental bias, your master-passion! There is no place where "Satan's seat" is not; "the whole world lieth in the Wicked one." (1 John, v. 19.) He has his whispers for the ear of childhood; hoary age is not inaccessible to his wiles. "_All this will I give thee_"--is still his bribe to deny Jesus and to "mind earthly things." He will meet you in the crowd; he will follow you to the solitude; his is a sleepless vigilance! Are you bold in repelling him as your Master was? Are you ready with the retort to every foul suggestion, "Get thee hence, Satan"? Cultivate a tender sensitiveness about sin. The finest barometers are the most sensitive. Whatever be your besetting frailty--whatever bitter or baleful passion you are conscious aspires to the mastery--watch it, crucify it, "nail it to your Lord's cross." _You_ may despise "the day of small things"--the Great Adversary does _not_. He knows the power of _littles_; that little by little consumes and eats out the vigor of the soul. And once the retrograde movement in the spiritual life begins, who can predict where it may end? the going on "from weakness to weakness," instead of "from strength to strength." Make no compromises; never join in the ungodly amusement, or venture on the questionable path, with the plea, "It does me no harm." The Israelites, on entering Canaan, instead of obeying the Divine injunction of extirpating their enemies, made a hollow truce with them. What was the result? Years upon years of tedious warfare. "They were scourges in their sides, and thorns in their eyes!" It is quaintly but truthfully said by an old writer, "The candle will never burn clear, while there is a _thief_ in it. Sin indulged, in the conscience, is like Jonah in the ship, which causeth such a tempest, that the conscience is like a troubled sea, whose waters cannot rest."--(_Thomas Brooks_.) "Keep," then, "thy heart with all diligence," or, (as it is in the forcible original Hebrew,) "keep thy heart _above all keeping_," "for out of it are the issues of life." (Prov. iv. 23.) Let this ever be your preservative against temptation, "How would _Jesus_ have acted here? would _He_ not have recoiled, like the sensitive plant, from the remotest contact with sin? Can _I_ think of dishonoring Him by tampering with His enemy; incurring from His own lips the bitter reflection of injured love, 'I am wounded in the house of my friends'?" He tells us the secret of our preservation and safety, "Simon! Simon! Satan hath desired to have thee, that he might sift thee as wheat; _but I_ have prayed for thee that thy faith fail not!" "ARM YOURSELVES LIKEWISE WITH THE SAME MIND." Twenty-fifth Day. RECEIVING SINNERS. "This man receiveth sinners."--Luke, xv. 2. The ironical taunt of proud and censorious Pharisees formed the glory of Him who came, "not to call the righteous, but sinners, to repentance." Publicans and outcasts; those covered with a deeper than any bodily leprosy--laid bare their wounds to the "Great Physician;" and as conscious guilt and timid penitence crept abashed and imploring to His feet, they found nothing but a forgiving and a gracious welcome! "His ways" were not as "man's ways!" The "watchmen," in the Canticles, "smote" the disconsolate one seeking her lost Lord; they tore off her veil, mocking with chilling unkindness her anguished tears. Not so "the Chief Shepherd and Bishop of souls." "_This_ man _receiveth_ sinners"! See Nicodemus, stealing under the shadows of night to elude observation--type of the thousand thousand who in every age have gone trembling in their night of sin and sorrow to this Heavenly Friend! Does Jesus punish his timidity by shutting His door against him, spurning him from His presence? "He will not break the bruised reed, He will not quench the smoking flax!" And He is still the same! He who arrested a persecutor in his blasphemies, and tuned the lips of an expiring felon with faith and love, is at this hour standing, with all the garnered treasures of Redemption in His hand, proclaiming, "Him that cometh unto Me, I will in no wise cast out"! Are we from this to think lightly of sin? or, by example and conduct, to palliate and overlook its enormity? Not so; sin, _as_ sin, can never be sufficiently stamped with the brand of reprobation. But we must seek carefully to distinguish between the offence and the offender. Nothing should be done on our part, by word or deed, to mock the penitential sighings of a guilty spirit, or send the trembling outcast away, with the despairing feeling of "_No hope_." "This man receiveth sinners," and shall not _we_? Does _He_ suffer the veriest dregs of human depravity to crouch unbidden at His feet, and to gaze on His forgiving countenance with the uplifted eye of hope, and shall _we_ dare to deal out harsh, and severe, and crushing verdicts on an offending (it may be a _deeply_ offending) brother? Shall we pronounce "crimson" and "scarlet" sins and sinners beyond the pale of mercy, when _Jesus_ does not? Nay, rather, when wretchedness, and depravity, and backsliding cross our path, let it not be with the bitter taunt or the ironical retort that we bid them away. Let us bear, endure, remonstrate, deal tenderly. Jesus _did_ so, Jesus _does_ so! Ah! If we had within us His unconquerable love of souls; His yearning desire for the everlasting happiness of sinners, we should be more frequently in earnest expostulation and affectionate appeal with those who have hitherto got no other than harsh thoughts and repulsive words. If this "mind" really were in us, "which was also in Him," we should more frequently ask ourselves, "Have I done all I _might_ have done to pluck this brand from the burning! Have I remembered what grace _has_ wrought, what grace _can_ do?" "Brethren, if any of you do err from the truth, and one convert him, let him know, that he which converteth the sinner from the error of his way shall save a soul from death, and shall hide a multitude of sins!" "ARM YOURSELVES LIKEWISE WITH THE SAME MIND." Twenty-sixth Day. GUILELESSNESS. "Neither was guile found in His mouth."--1 Pet. ii. 22. How rare, and all the more beautiful because of its rarity, is a purely _guileless_ spirit! A crystalline medium through which the transparent light of Heaven comes and goes; open, candid, just, honorable, sincere; scorning every unfair dealing, every hollow pretension, every narrow prejudice. Wherever such characters exist, they are like "apples of gold in pictures of silver." Such, in all the loveliness of sinless perfection, was the Son of God! His guilelessness shining the more conspicuously amid the artful and malignant subtlety alike of men and devils. Passing by manifold instances in the course of His ministry, look at its manifestation as the hour of His death approached. When, on the night of his apprehension, He confronts the assassin band, in meek majesty He puts the question, "Whom seek ye?" They say to Him, "Jesus of Nazareth." In guileless innocence, He replies, "I am He!" "Art thou the King of the Jews?" asks Pilate, a few hours after. An evasive answer might again have purchased immunity from suffering and indignity, but once more the lips which scorned the semblance of evasion reply, "Thou sayest!" How He loved the same spirit in His people! "Behold," said He, of Nathanael, "an Israelite indeed, in whom is _no guile_!" That upright man had, we may suppose, been day after day kneeling in prayer under his fig-tree, with an open and candid spirit-- "Musing on the law he taught, And waiting for the Lord he loved." See how the Saviour honored him; setting His own Divine seal on the loveliness of this same spirit! Take one other example, when the startling, saddening announcement is made to the disciples, "One of you shall betray me;" they do not accuse one another; they attempt to throw no suspicion on Judas; each in trembling apprehension suspects only his own treacherous heart, "Lord, is it I?" How much of a different "mind" is there abroad! In the school of the world (this "_painted_ world"), how much is there of what is called "policy," double-dealing!--accomplishing its ends by tortuous means; outward, artificial polish, often only a cloak for baseness and selfishness!--in the daily interchange of business, one seeking to over-reach the other by wily arts; sacrificing principle for temporal advantage. There is nothing so derogatory to religion as aught allied to such a spirit among Christ's people--any such blot on the "living epistles." "Ye are the light of the world." That world is a quick observer. It is sharp to detect inconsistencies--slow to forget them. The true Christian has been likened to an _anagram_--you ought to be able to read him up and down, every way! Be all reality, no counterfeit. Do not pass for current coin what is base alloy. Let transparent honor and sincerity regulate all your dealings; despise all meanness; avoid the sinister motive, the underhand dealing; aim at that unswerving love of truth that would scorn to stoop to base compliances and unworthy equivocations; live more under the power of the purifying and ennobling influences of the gospel. Take its golden rule as the matchless directory for the daily transactions of life--"Whatsoever ye would that men should do to you, do ye even so to them." "ARM YOURSELVES LIKEWISE WITH THE SAME MIND." Twenty-seventh Day. ACTIVITY IN DUTY. "I must work the works of Him that sent me, while it is day; the night cometh, when no man can work."--John, ix. 4. How constant and unremitting was Jesus in the service of His Heavenly Father! "He rose a great while before day;" and, when His secret communion was over, His public work began. It mattered not to Him where He was: whether on the bosom of the deep, or a mountain slope--in the desert, or at a well-side--the "gracious words" ever "proceeded out of His mouth." We find, on one touching occasion, exhausted nature sinking, after a day of unremitting duty; in crossing, in a vessel, the Lake of Tiberias--"_He fell asleep_"! (Matt. viii.) He redeemed every precious moment. His words to the Pharisee seem a _formula_ for all, "Simon, I have somewhat to say unto _thee_"! Oh, how our most unceasing activities pale into nothing before such an example as this! Would that we could remember that each of us has some great mission to perform for God, that religion is not a thing of dreamy sentimentalism, but of energetic practical action; moreover, that no trade, no profession, no position, however high or however humble in the scale of society, can disqualify for this life of Christian activity and usefulness! Who were the writers in the Bible? We have among them a King--a Lawgiver--a Herdsman--a Publican--a Physician! Nor is it to high spheres, or to great services only, that God looks. The widow's mite and Mary's "alabaster box of ointment" are recorded as examples for imitation by the Holy Ghost, while many more munificent deeds are passed by unrecorded. We believe that God says, regarding the attempt of many a humble Christian to serve Him by active duty, "I saw that effort, that _feeble_ effort to serve and glorify Me; it was the very _feebleness_ of it I loved!" Did it never strike you, notwithstanding the _dignity_ of Christ, and the _activity_ of Christ, how little success comparatively He met with in His public work? We read of no _numerous_ conversions; no Pentecostal revivals in the course of His ministry. May not this well encourage in the absence of great outward results? He sets up no higher standard than this--"She hath done what she could." An artist may be _great_ in painting a peasant as well as a king--_it is the way he does it_. Yes, and if laid aside from the _activities_ of the Christian life, we can equally glorify God by _passive endurance_. "Who am I," said Luther, when he witnessed the patience of a great sufferer; "who am I? a wordy preacher in comparison with this great doer." Reader! forget not the motive of our motto verse, "_The night cometh!_" Soon our tale shall be told; our little day is flitting fast, the shadows of night are falling. "Our span length of time," as Rutherford says, "will come to an inch." What if the eleventh hour should strike after having been "all the day _idle_"? A long lifetime of opportunities suffered to pass unemployed and unimproved, and absolutely _nothing_ done for God! A judgment-day come--our golden moments squandered--our talents untraded on--our work undone--met at the bar of Heaven with the withering repulse, "Inasmuch as ye did it _not_." "The time we have lost," says Richard Baxter, "can not be recalled; should we not then redeem and improve the little that remains? If a traveler sleep or trifle most of the day, he must travel so much the faster in the evening, or fall short of his journey's end." "ARM YOURSELVES LIKEWISE WITH THE SAME MIND." Twenty-eighth Day. COMMITTING OUR WAY TO GOD. "But committed himself to Him that judgeth righteously."-- 1 Peter, ii. 23. With what perfect and entire confidingness did Jesus commit Himself to his Heavenly Father's guidance! He loved to call Him, "My Father!" There was music in that name, which enabled Him to face the most trying hour, and to drink the most bitter cup. The scoffing taunt arose at the scene of crucifixion: "He trusted in God that He would deliver Him, let Him deliver Him!" It failed to shake, for one moment, His unswerving confidence, even when the sensible tokens of the Divine presence were withdrawn; the realized consciousness of God's abiding love sustained Him still: "My God! my God!" How many a perplexity should we save ourselves by thus implicitly "committing ourselves," as He did, to God! In seasons of darkness and trouble--when our way is shut up with thorns, to lift the confiding eye of faith to Him, and say, "I am oppressed, undertake for me!" How blessed to feel that He directs all that befalls us; that no contingencies can frustrate His plans; that the way he leads us is not only _a_ "right way," but, with all its briers and thorns--_its_ tears and trials--it is _the_ right way! The result of such an habitual staying ourselves on the Lord will be a deep, abiding _peace_; any ripple will only be on the surface--no more. It is the _bosom_ of the ocean alone which the storm ruffles; all beneath is a serene, settled calm. So "Thou wilt keep him, oh God, in perfect peace, whose mind is stayed on _Thee_!" "The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want." I shall be content alike with what He appoints or withholds. I _can not_ wrong that love with one shadow of suspicion! I have His own plighted promise of unchanging faithfulness, that "all things work together for good to them that love Him!" Often there are earthly sorrows hard to bear;--the unkind accusation, when it was least merited or expected; the estrangement of tried and trusted friends, the failure of cherished hopes, favorite schemes broken up, plans of usefulness demolished, the gourd breeding its own worm and withering. "Commit thy cause and thy way to God!" We little know what tenderness there is in the blast of the rough wind; what "needs be" are folded under the wings of the storm! "All is well," because _all_ is from _Him_. "Events are God's," says Rutherford; "let Him sit at His own helm, that moderateth all." Christian! look back on your checkered path. How wondrously has He threaded you through the mazy way--disappointing your fears, realizing your hopes! Are evils looming through the mists of the future? Do not anticipate the trials of to-morrow, to aggravate those of to-day. Leave the morrow with Him, who has promised, by "casting all your care on Him, to care for you." No affliction will be sent greater than you can bear. His voice will be heard stealing from the bosom of the threatening cloud, "Be still, and know that I am God!" "_My Father!_" With such a word, you can stretch out your neck for any yoke; as with Israel of old, He will make those very waves that may now be so threatening, a fenced wall on every side! "Rest in the Lord, and wait patiently for Him." "In _all_ thy ways acknowledge Him, and He shall direct thy paths!" "ARM YOURSELVES LIKEWISE WITH THE SAME MIND." Twenty-ninth Day. LOVE OF UNITY. "That they all may be one."--John, xvii. 21. Surely there is nothing for which Christian churches have such cause to hang their harps on the willows, as the extent to which the Shibboleth of party is heard in the camp of the faithful--sectarianism rearing its "untempered walls" within the Temple gates! How different "the mind of Jesus!" Sent "to the lost sheep of the house of Israel," He was never found disowning "_other_ sheep not of that fold." "Them also will I bring," was an assertion continually illustrated by His deeds. Take one example: The woman of Samaria revealed what, alas! is too common in the world--a total absence of all real religion, along with an ardent zeal for her sect. She was living in open sin; yet she was all alive to the nice distinction between a Jew and a Samaritan--between Mount Gerizim and Mount Zion: "How is it that thou, being a Jew, askest drink of me, who am a woman of Samaria?" Did Jesus sanction or reciprocate her sectarianism?--did He leave her bigotry unrebuked? Hear His reply--"If thou knewest the gift of God, and who it is that saith to thee, Give me to drink; thou wouldst have asked of _Him_, and _He_ would have given thee!" _He_ would have allowed no such narrow-minded exclusiveness to have interfered with the interchange of kindly civilities with a stranger. Nay, He would have given thee, better than all, the "living water" which "springeth up to everlasting life!" How sad, that when the enemy is "coming in like a flood"--the ranks of Popery and infidelity linked in fatal and formidable confederacy--that the soldiers of Christ are forced to meet the assault with standards soiled and mutilated by internal feuds! "Uniformity" there _may_ not be, but "unity," in the true sense of the word, there _ought_ to be. We may be clad in different livery, but let us stand side by side, and rank by rank, fighting the battles of our Lord. We may be different branches of the seven golden candlesticks, varying and diversified in outward form and workmanship; but let us combine in "showing forth the praises of Him" who recognizes, as the one true "churchmanship," fidelity in shining for His glory "as lights in the world." How can we read the 13th chapter of 1st Corinthians, and then think of our divisions? "How miserable," says Edward Bickersteth, "would an hospital be, if each patient were to be so offended with his neighbor's disease, as to differ with him on account of it, instead of trying to alleviate it!" Ah! if we had more real communion with our Saviour, should we not have more real communion with one another? If Christians would dip their arrows more in "the balm of Gilead," would there not be fewer wounds in the body of Christ? "How that word '_toleration_' is used amongst us," said one who drank deeper than most, of his Master's spirit--"how we _tolerate_ one another--Dissenters _tolerate_ Churchmen, and Churchmen _tolerate_ Dissenters! Oh! hateful word! TOLERATE one for whom _Jesus_ died! _Tolerate_ one whom He bears upon His heart! _Tolerate_ a temple of the living God! Oh! there ought to be _that_ in the word which should make us feel _ashamed_ before God!" "ARM YOURSELVES LIKEWISE WITH THE SAME MIND." Thirtieth Day. NOT OF THE WORLD. "I am not of the world."--John, xvii. 14. In one sense it was _not_ so. Jesus did not seek to maintain His holiness intact and unspotted by avoiding contact with the world. He mingled familiarly in its busy crowds. He frowned on none of its innocent enjoyments; He fostered, by His example, no love of seclusion; He gave no warrant or encouragement to mortified pride, or disappointed hopes, to rush from its duties; yet, with all this, what a halo of heavenliness encircled His pathway through it! "I am from above," was breathed in His every look, and word, and action, from the time when He lay in the slumbers of guileless infancy in His Bethlehem cradle, until He said, "I leave the world, and go to my Father!" He had moved uncontaminated through its varied scenes, like the sunbeam, which, whatever it touches, remains as unsullied, as when it issues from its great fountain. But though Himself in His sinless nature "unconquerable" by temptation--immutably secure from the world's malignant influences, it is all worthy of note, as an example to us, that He never unnecessarily braved these. He knew the seducing spell that same world would exercise on His people, of whom, with touching sympathy, He says, "_These_ are in the world!" He knew the _many_ who would be involved and ensnared in its subtle worship, who, "minding earthly things, would seek to slake their thirst at polluted streams!" Reader! the great problem you have to solve, Jesus has solved for you--to be "_in_ the world, and yet not _of_ it." To abandon it, would be a dereliction of duty. It would be servants deserting their work; soldiers flying from the battle-field. _Live_ in it, that while you live, the world, may feel the better for you. _Die_, that _when_ you die, the world, the _Church_, may feel your loss, and cherish your example! On its cares and duties, its trusts and responsibilities, its employments and enjoyments, inscribe the motto, "The world passeth away!" Beware of every thing in it that would tend to deaden spirituality of heart; unfitting the mind for serious thought, lowering the standard of Christian duty, and inducing a perilous conformity to its false manners, habits, tastes, and principles. As the best antidote to the love of the world, let the inner _vacuum_ of the heart be filled with the love of God. Seek to feel the nobility of your regenerated nature; that you have a nobler heritage to care for than the transitory glories which encircle "an indivisible point, a fugitive atom." How can I mix with the potsherds of the earth? Once, "I lay among the pots;" now, I am "like a dove, whose wings are covered with silver, and her feathers with yellow gold!" "Stranger--pilgrim--sojourner" "my _citizenship_ is in heaven!" Why covet tinsel honors and glories? Why be solicitous about the smiles of that which knew not (nay, which frowned on) its Lord? "Paul calls it," says an old writer, "_schema_ (a mathematical figure), which is a mere _notion_, and nothing in substance."--(_Thomas Brooks._) Live above its corroding cares and anxieties; remembering the description Jesus gives of His own true people; "They are not of the world, even as I am not of the world!" "ARM YOURSELVES LIKEWISE WITH THE SAME MIND." Thirty-first Day. CALMNESS IN DEATH. "Father, into Thy hands I commend My spirit."--Luke, xxiii. 46. In the death of Jesus, there were elements of fearfulness, which the believer can know nothing of. It was with Him the execution of a penal sentence. The sins of an elect world were bearing him down! The very voice of His God was giving the tremendous summons, "Awake, O sword, against my shepherd!" Yet His was a death of _peace_, nay, of _triumph_! Ere He closed His eyes, light broke through the curtains of thick darkness. In the calm composure of filial confidence He breathed away His soul--"Father, into Thy hands I commend My spirit!" What was the secret of such tranquillity? This is His own key to it--"I have glorified Thee on the earth; I have finished the work which Thou gavest me to do." Reader! will it be so with _you_ at a dying hour? will _your_ "work" be done? Have you already fled to Jesus? Are you reposing in Him as your only Saviour, and following Him as your only pattern? Then--let death overtake you when it may--you will have nothing to do _but to die_! The grave will be irradiated with His presence and smile. He will be standing there as He did by His own tomb of old, pointing to yours, tenanted with angel forms, nay, Himself as the "Precursor," showing you "_the path of life!_" There can be no true peace till the fear of death be conquered by the sense of sin forgiven, through "the blood of the Cross." "Not till then," as one has it, "will you be able to be a quiet spectator of the open grave at the bottom of the hill which you are soon to descend." "The sting of death is _sin_, but thanks be to God who giveth us the victory through the Lord Jesus Christ!" Seek now to live in the enjoyment of greater filial nearness to your covenant God; and thus, when the hour of departure _does_ come, you will be able, without irreverence, to take the very words of your dying Lord, and make them your own--"FATHER! into Thy hands I commend my spirit." FATHER! It is going HOME! the heart of the child leaping at the thought of the paternal roof, and the paternal welcome! "Son, thou art ever with me, and all that I have is thine!" It is said of Archbishop Leighton, that he "was always happiest when, from the shaking of the prison-doors, he was led to hope that some of those brisk blasts would throw them open, and give him the release he coveted." Christian! can you dread _that_ which your Saviour has already vanquished? _Death!_ It is as the angel to Peter, breaking the dungeon-doors, and leading to open day; it is going to the world of your birthright, and leaving the one of your exile; "it is the soldier at night-fall, lying down in his tent in peace, waiting the morning to receive his laurels." Oh! to be ever living in a state of holy preparation! the mental eye gazing on the vista-view of an opening Heaven! feeling that _every moment_ is bringing us nearer and nearer that happy _Home_! soon to be within reach of the Heavenly threshold, in sight of the Throne! soon to be bending in adoring rapture with the Church triumphant--bathing in floods of infinite glory--"LIKE HIM,"--"seeing HIM _as He is_," and that _for Ever and Ever_! "AND EVERY MAN THAT HATH THIS HOPE IN HIM PURIFIETH HIMSELF, EVEN AS HE IS PURE!" Leaving us AN EXAMPLE that we should follow HIS STEPS. 1 Peter, ii. 21. 
28547	----	Transcriber's Note Minor punctuation errors and inconsistencies have been silently corrected. The following minor typographic corrections have also been made: p8: "al" changed to "all" p13: "sorrrow" changed to "sorrow" p81: "trom" changed to "from" p112: "Mat." changed to "Matt." for consistency p122: "striken" changed to "stricken" THE WORDS OF JESUS. by the author of "THE MORNING AND NIGHT WATCHES," "THE FAITHFUL PROMISER," ETC. Taken from the last London Edition. New York: STANFORD & DELISSER, No. 508, BROADWAY. 1858. The Words of Jesus. "A word spoken in season," says the wise man, "how good it is!" If this be true regarding the utterances of uninspired lips, with what devout and paramount interest must we invest the sayings of Incarnate Truth--"the WORDS OF JESUS!" We have, in the motto-verses which head the succeeding pages a few comforting responses from the Oracle of heavenly Wisdom--a few grapes plucked from the true Vine--living streams welling fresh from the Living Fountain. Every portion of Scripture is designed for nutriment to the soul--"the bread of life;" but surely we may well regard the recorded "_Words of Jesus_" as "the finest of the wheat." These are the "Honey" out of the true "Rock," with which He will "satisfy" us. "The WORDS that I speak unto you, they are spirit and they are life." The following are selected more especially as "_Words for the Weary_"--healing leaves for the wounded spirit falling from the Tree of Life. Jesus was divinely qualified for this special office of speaking "many and _comfortable_ words." "The Lord God hath given me the tongue of the learned, that I might know how to speak a _Word in Season_ to him that is _weary_." Let us, like the disciple of Patmos, turn to hear the voice that speaks to us, saying, "I wait for the Lord, my soul doth wait, and in _His Word_ do I hope." Eighteen hundred years have elapsed since these "words" were uttered. With tones of unaltered and unchanged affection, they are still echoed from the inner sanctuary--they come this day fresh as they were spoken, from the lips of Him whose memorial to all time is this: "_that same Jesus_." Reader, seek to realise, in meditating on them, the simple but solemn truth--"_Christ speaks to me!_" Surely nothing can be more soothing with which to close your eyes on your nightly pillow, or to carry with you in the morning out to the duties (or, it may be, the trials and sorrows) of the day, than--"A WORD OF JESUS." 1ST DAY OF MONTH. "Remember the words of the Lord Jesus, how He said"-- "Come unto me all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest."--Matt. xi. 28. The Gracious Invitation. Gracious "word" of a gracious Saviour, on which the soul may confidingly repose, and be at peace for ever? It is a _present_ rest--the rest of _grace_ as well as the rest of _glory_. Not only are there signals of peace hung out from the walls of heaven--the lights of Home glimmering in the distance to cheer our footsteps; but we have the "shadow" of this "great Rock" in a _present_ "weary land." Before the Throne alone is there "the sea of glass," without one rippling wave; but there is a haven even on earth for the tempest-tossed--"We which have believed DO enter into rest." Reader, hast thou found this blessed repose in the blood and work of Immanuel? Long going about "seeking rest and finding none," does this "word" sound like music in thine ears--"_Come unto Me_?" All other peace is counterfeit, shadowy, unreal. The eagle spurns the gilded cage as a poor equivalent for his free-born soarings. The soul's immortal aspirations can be satisfied with nothing short of the possession of God's favour and love in Jesus. How unqualified is the invitation! If there had been one condition in entering this covenant Ark, we must have been through eternity at the mercy of the storm. But all are alike warranted and welcome, and none _more_ warranted than welcome. For the weak, the weary, the sin-burdened and sorrow-burdened, there is an open door of grace. Return, then unto thy rest, O my soul! Let the sweet cadence of this "word of Jesus" steal on thee amid the disquietudes of earth. Sheltered in Him, thou art safe for time, safe for eternity! There may be, and _will_ be, temporary tossings, fears, and misgivings,--manifestations of inward corruption; but these will only be like the surface-heavings of the ocean, while underneath there is a deep settled calm. "Thou wilt keep him in perfect peace" (_lit._ peace, peace) "whose mind is stayed on Thee." In the world it is care on care, trouble on trouble, sin on sin; but every wave that breaks on the believer's soul seems sweetly to murmur, "Peace, peace!" And if the foretaste of this rest be precious, what must be the glorious consummation? Awaking in the morning of immortality, with the unquiet dream of earth over--faith lost in sight, and hope in fruition;--no more any bias to sin--no more latent principles of evil--nothing to disturb the spirit's deep, everlasting tranquillity--the trembling magnet of the heart reposing, where alone it can confidingly and permanently rest, in the enjoyment of the Infinite God. "THESE THINGS HAVE I SPOKEN UNTO YOU, THAT IN ME YE MIGHT HAVE PEACE." 2D DAY. "Remember the words of the Lord Jesus, how He said"-- "Your heavenly Father knoweth that ye have need of all these things."--Matt. vi. 22. The Comforting Assurance. Though spoken originally by Jesus regarding temporal things, this may be taken as a motto for the child of God amid all the changing vicissitudes of his changing history. How it should lull all misgivings; silence all murmurings; lead to lowly, unquestioning submissiveness--"My Heavenly Father knoweth that I have need of all these things." Where can a child be safer or better than in a father's hand? Where can the believer be better than in the hands of his God? We are poor judges of what is best. We are under safe guidance with infallible wisdom. If we are tempted in a moment of rash presumption to say, "All these things are against me," let this "word" rebuke the hasty and unworthy surmise. Unerring wisdom and Fatherly love have pronounced _all_ to be "needful." My soul, is there aught that is disturbing thy peace? Are providences dark, or crosses heavy? Are spiritual props removed, creature comforts curtailed, gourds smitten and withered like grass?--write on each, "_Your Father knoweth that ye have need of all these things._" It was He who increased thy burden. Why? "_It was needed._" It was He who smote down thy clay idol. Why? "_It was needed._" It was supplanting Himself: He had to remove it! It was He who crossed thy worldly schemes, marred thy cherished hopes. Why? "_It was needed._" There was a lurking thorn in the coveted path. There was some higher spiritual blessing in reversion. "He '_prevented_' thee with the blessings of His goodness." Seek to cherish a spirit of more childlike confidence in thy Heavenly Father's will. Thou art not left unbefriended and alone to buffet the storms of the wilderness. Thy Marahs as well as thy Elims are appointed by Him. A gracious pillar-cloud is before thee. Follow it through sunshine and storm. He may "lead thee about," but He will not lead thee wrong. Unutterable tenderness is the characteristic of all His dealings. "Blessed be His name," says a tried believer, "He maketh my feet like hinds' feet" (_literally_, "equaleth" them), "he _equaleth_ them for every precipice, every ascent, every leap." And who is it that speaks this quieting word? It is He who Himself felt the preciousness of the assurance during His own awful sufferings, that all were _needed_, and all _appointed_; that from Bethlehem's cradle to Calvary's Cross there was not the redundant thorn in the chaplet of sorrow which He, the Man of Sorrows, bore. Every drop in His bitter cup was mingled by His Father: "This cup which _Thou_ givest me to drink, shall I not drink it!" Oh, if He could extract comfort in this hour of inconceivable agony, in the thought that a Father's hand lighted the fearful furnace-fires, what strong consolation is there in the same truth to all His suffering people! What! one superfluous drop! one redundant pang! one unneeded cross! Hush the secret atheism! He gave His Son for thee! He calls Himself "thy Father!" Whatever be the trial under which thou art now smarting, let the word of a gracious Saviour be "like oil thrown on the fretful sea;" let it dry every rebellious tear-drop. "He, thine unerring Parent, knoweth that thou hast need of _this_ as well as _all_ these things." "THY WORD IS VERY SURE, THEREFORE THY SERVANT LOVETH IT." 3D DAY. "Remember the words of the Lord Jesus, how He said"-- "Whatsoever ye shall ask in my name, that will I do, that the Father may be glorified in the Son."--John xiv. 13. The Power of Prayer. Blessed Jesus! it is Thou who hast unlocked to Thy people the gates of prayer. Without Thee they must have been shut forever. It was Thy atoning merit on earth that first opened them; it is Thy intercessory work in heaven that keeps them open still. How unlimited the promise--"_Whatsoever ye shall ask!_" It is the pledge of all that the needy sinner requires--all that an Omnipotent Saviour can bestow! As the great Steward of the mysteries of grace, He seems to say to His faithful servants, "Take thy bill, and under this, my superscription, write what you please." And then, when the blank is filled up, he further endorses each petition with the words, "_I WILL do it!_" He farther encourages us to ask "_in His name_." In the case of an earthly petitioner there are some pleas more influential in obtaining a boon than others. Jesus speaks of _this_ as forming the key to the heart of God. As David loved the helpless cripple of Saul's house "_for Jonathan's sake_," so will the Father, by virtue of our covenant relationship to the true JONATHAN (_lit._, "the gift of God"), delight in giving us even "exceeding abundantly above all that we can ask or think." Reader, do you know the blessedness of confiding your every want and every care--your every sorrow and every cross--into the ear of the Saviour? He is the "Wonderful Counsellor." With an exquisitely tender sympathy He can enter into the innermost depths of your need. That need may be great, but the everlasting arms are underneath it all. Think of Him now, at this moment--the great Angel of the Covenant, with the censer full of much incense, in which are placed your feeblest aspirations, your most burdened sighs--the odour-breathing cloud ascending with acceptance before the Father's throne. The answer may tarry;--these your supplications may seem to be kept long on the wing, hovering around the mercy-seat. A gracious God sometimes sees it meet thus to test the faith and patience of His people. He delights to hear the music of their importunate pleadings--to see them undeterred by difficulties--unrepelled by apparent forgetfulness and neglect. But He _will_ come at last; the pent-up fountain of love and mercy will at length burst out;--the soothing accents will in His own good time be heard, "Be it unto thee according to thy word!" Soldier of Christ! with all thine other panoply, forget not the "_All-prayer_." It is that which keeps bright and shining "the whole armour of God." While yet out in the night of a dark world--whilst still bivouacking in an enemy's country--kindle thy watch-fires at the altar of incense. Thou must be Moses, pleading on the Mount, if thou wouldst be Joshua, victorious in the world's daily battle. Confide thy cause to this waiting Redeemer. Thou canst not weary Him with thine importunity. He delights in hearing. His Father is glorified in giving. The memorable Bethany-utterance remains unaltered and unrepealed--"I knew that Thou hearest me always." He is still the "Prince that has power with God and prevails"--still He promises and pleads--still He lives and loves! "I WAIT FOR THE LORD, MY SOUL DOTH WAIT; AND IN HIS WORD DO I HOPE." 4TH DAY. "Remember the words of the Lord Jesus, how He said"-- "What I do thou knowest not now; but thou shalt know hereafter."--John xiii. 7. The Unveiled Dealings. O blessed day, when the long sealed book of mystery shall be unfolded, when the "fountains of the great deep shall be broken up," "the channels of the waters seen," and _all_ discovered to be one vast revelation of unerring wisdom and ineffable love! Here we are often baffled at the Lord's dispensations; we cannot fathom His ways:--like the well of Sychar, they are deep, and we have nothing to draw with. But soon the "mystery of God will be finished;" the enigmatical "seals," with all their inner meanings, opened. When that "morning without clouds" shall break, each soul will be like the angel standing in the sun--there will be no shadow; all will be perfect day! Believer, be still! The dealings of thy Heavenly Father may seem dark to thee; there may seem now to be no golden fringe, no "bright light in the clouds;" but a day of disclosures is at hand. "Take it on trust a little while." An earthly child takes _on trust_ what his father tells him: when he reaches maturity, much that was baffling to his infant comprehension is explained. Thou art in this world in the nonage of thy being--Eternity is the soul's immortal manhood. _There_, every dealing will be vindicated. It will lose all its "darkness" when bathed in the floods "of the excellent glory!" Ah! instead of thus being as weaned children, how apt are we to exercise ourselves in matters too high for us? not content with knowing that our Father _wills_ it, but presumptuously seeking to know _how_ it is, and _why_ it is. If it be unfair to pronounce on the unfinished and incompleted works of man; if the painter, or sculptor, or artificer, would shrink from having his labours judged of when in a rough, unpolished, immatured state; how much more so with the works of God? How we should honour Him by a simple, confiding, unreserved submission to His will,--contented patiently to wait the fulfilment of this "_hereafter_" promise, when all the lights and shadows in the now half-finished picture will be blended and melted into one harmonious whole,--when all the now disjointed stones in the temple will be seen to fit into their appointed place, giving unity, and compactness, and symmetry, to all the building. And who is it that speaks these living "words," "What _I_ do?" It is He who died for us? who now lives for us! Blessed Jesus! Thou mayest _do_ much that our blind hearts would like _un_done,--"terrible things in righteousness which we looked not for." The heaviest (what we may be tempted to call the severest) cross Thou canst lay upon us we shall regard as only the _apparent_ severity of unutterable and unalterable love. Eternity will unfold how _all_, _all_ was needed; that nothing else, nothing less, could have done! If not now, at least then, the deliberate verdict on a calm retrospect of life will be this,-- "_THE WORD_ OF THE LORD IS RIGHT, AND ALL HIS WORKS ARE DONE IN TRUTH." 5TH DAY. "Remember the words of the Lord Jesus, how He said"-- "Herein is my Father glorified, that _ye bear much fruit_."--John xv. 8. The Father Glorified. When surveying the boundless ocean of covenant mercy--every wave chiming, "God is Love!"--does the thought ever present itself, "What can I do for this great Being who hath done so much for me?" Recompence I cannot! No more can my purest services add one iota to His underived glory, than the tiny taper can add to the blaze of the sun at noonday, or a drop of water to the boundless ocean. Yet, wondrous thought! from this worthless soul of mine there may roll in a revenue of glory which He who loves the broken and contrite spirit will "not despise." "_Herein is my Father glorified, that ye bear much fruit._" Reader! are you a fruit-bearer in your Lord's vineyard? Are you seeking to make life one grand act of consecration to His glory--one thank-offering for His unmerited love. You may be unable to exhibit much fruit in the eye of the world. Your circumstances and position in life may forbid you to point to any splendid services, or laborious and imposing efforts in the cause of God. It matters not. It is often those fruits that are unseen and unknown to man, ripening in seclusion, that He values most;--the quiet, lowly walk--patience and submission--gentleness and humility--putting yourself unreservedly in His hands--willing to be led by Him even in darkness--saying, Not _my_ will, but _Thy_ will:--the unselfish spirit, the meek bearing of an injury, the unostentatious kindness,--these are some of the "fruits" which your Heavenly Father loves, and by which He is glorified. Perchance it may be with you the season of trial, the chamber of protracted sickness, the time of desolating bereavement, some furnace seven times heated. Herein, too, you may sweetly glorify your God. Never is your Heavenly Father _more_ glorified by His children on earth, than when, in the midst of these furnace-fires, He listens to nothing but the gentle breathings of confiding faith and love,--"Let Him do what seemeth good unto Him." Yes, you can there glorify Him in a way which angels cannot do in a world where no trial is. They can glorify God only with the _crown_; you can glorify Him with the _cross_ and the prospect of the _crown_ together! Ah, if He be dealing severely with you--if He, as the great Husbandman, be pruning His vines, lopping their boughs, stripping off their luxuriant branches and "beautiful rods!" remember the end!--"He purgeth it, that it may bring forth _more_ fruit," and "_Herein_ is my Father glorified!" Be it yours to lie passive in His hands, saying in unmurmuring resignation, Father, glorify Thy name! Glorify Thyself, whether by giving or taking, filling my cup or "emptying me from vessel to vessel!" Let me know no will but Thine. Angels possess no higher honour and privilege than glorifying the God before whom they cast their crowns. How blessed to be able thus to claim brotherhood with the spirits in the upper sanctuary! nay, more, to be associated with the Saviour Himself in the theme of His own exalted joy, when he said, "_I_ have _glorified_ Thee on earth!" "THESE THINGS HAVE I SPOKEN UNTO YOU, THAT MY JOY MIGHT REMAIN IN YOU, AND THAT YOUR JOY MIGHT BE FULL." 6TH DAY. "Remember the words of the Lord Jesus, how He said"-- "The very hairs of your head are all numbered."--Matt. x. 30. The Tender Solicitude. What a "word" is this! All that befals you, to the very numbering of your hairs, is known to God! Nothing can happen by accident or chance. Nothing can elude His inspection. The fall of the forest leaf--the fluttering of the insect--the waving of the angel's wing--the annihilation of a world,--all are equally noted by Him. Man speaks of great things and small things--God knows no such distinction. How especially comforting to think of this tender solicitude with reference to his own covenant people--that He metes out their joys and their sorrows! Every sweet, every bitter is ordained by Him. Even "_wearisome_ nights" are "_appointed_." Not a pang I feel, not a tear I shed but is known to Him. What are called "dark dealings" are the ordinations of undeviating faithfulness. Man _may_ err--his ways are often crooked; "but as for God, _His_ way is perfect!" He puts my tears into His bottle. Every moment the everlasting arms are underneath and around me. He keeps me "as the apple of His eye." He "bears" me "as a man beareth his own son!" Do I look to the future? Is there much of uncertainty and mystery hanging over it? It may be, much premonitory of evil. Trust Him. All is marked out for me. Dangers will be averted; bewildering mazes will show themselves to be interlaced and interweaved with mercy. "He keepeth the feet of His saints." A hair of their head will not be touched. He leads sometimes darkly, sometimes sorrowfully; most frequently by cross and circuitous ways we ourselves would not have chosen; but _always_ wisely, _always_ tenderly. With all its mazy windings and turnings, its roughness and ruggedness, the believer's is not only _a_ right way, but THE right way--the best which covenant love and wisdom could select. "Nothing," says Jeremy Taylor, "does so establish the mind amidst the rollings and turbulence of present things, as both a look above them and a look beyond them; above them, to the steady and good hand by which they are ruled; and beyond them, to the sweet and beautiful end to which, by that hand, they will be brought." "The Great Counsellor," says Thomas Brooks, "puts clouds and darkness round about Him, bidding us follow at His beck through the cloud, promising an eternal and uninterrupted sunshine on the other side." On that "other side" we shall see how every apparent rough blast has been hastening our barks nearer the desired haven. Well may I commit the keeping of my soul to Jesus in well-doing, as unto a faithful Creator. He gave _Himself_ for me. This transcendent pledge of love is the guarantee for the bestowment of every other needed blessing. Oh, blessed thought! my sorrows numbered by the Man of Sorrows; my tears counted by Him who shed first His tears and then His blood for _me_. He will impose no needless burden, and exact no unnecessary sacrifice. There was no redundant drop in the cup of His own sufferings; neither will there be in that of His people. "Though He slay me, yet will I trust in Him." "WHEREFORE COMFORT ONE ANOTHER WITH _THESE WORDS_." 7TH DAY. "Remember the words of the Lord Jesus, how He said"-- "I am the good shepherd, and know my sheep, and am known of mine."--John x. 14. The Good Shepherd. "The Good Shepherd"--well can the sheep who know His voice attest the truthfulness and faithfulness of this endearing name and word. Where would they have been through eternity, had He not left His throne of light and glory, travelling down to this dark valley of the curse, and giving His life a ransom for many? Think of His love to each separate member of the flock--wandering over pathless wilds with unwearied patience and unquenchable ardour, ceasing not the pursuit _until_ He finds it. Think of His love _now_--"I AM the Good Shepherd." Still that tender eye of watchfulness following the guilty wanderers--the glories of heaven and the songs of angels unable to dim or alter His affection;--the music of the words, at this moment coming as sweetly from His lips as when first He uttered them--"I know my sheep." Every individual believer--the weakest, the weariest, the faintest--claims His attention. His loving eye follows me day by day out to the wilderness--marks out my pasture, studies my wants, and trials, and sorrows, and perplexities--every steep ascent, every brook, every winding path, every thorny thicket. "He goeth before them." It is not rough driving, but gentle guiding. He does not take them over an unknown road; He himself has trodden it before. He hath drunk of every "brook by the way;" He himself hath "suffered being tempted;" He is "able to succour them that are tempted." He seems to say, "Fear not; I cannot lead you wrong; follow me in the bleak waste, the blackened wilderness, as well as by the green pastures and the still waters. Do you ask why I have left the sunny side of the valley--carpeted with flowers, and bathed in sunshine--leading you to some high mountain apart, some cheerless spot of sorrow? Trust me, I will lead you by paths you have not known, but they are all known _to_ me, and selected _by_ me--'Follow thou me.'" "And am known of mine!" Reader! canst thou subscribe to these closing words of this gracious utterance? Dost thou "know" _Him_ in all the glories of His person, in all the completeness of His finished work, in all the tenderness and unutterable love of His every dealing towards thee? It has been remarked by Palestine travellers, that not only do the sheep there follow the guiding shepherd, but even while cropping the herbage as they go along, they look wistfully up to see that they are near him. Is this thine attitude--"_looking unto Jesus_?" "In all thy ways acknowledge Him, and he will direct thy paths." Leave the future to His providing. "The Lord is my Shepherd; I shall not want." _I shall not want!_--it has been beautifully called "the bleating of Messiah's sheep." Take it as thy watchword during thy wilderness wanderings, till grace be perfected in glory. Let this be the record of thy simple faith and unwavering trust, "These are they who _follow_, whithersoever He sees meet to guide them." "THE SHEEP FOLLOW HIM, FOR THEY KNOW HIS VOICE." 8TH DAY. "Remember the words of the Lord Jesus, how He said"-- "And I will pray the Father, and He shall give you another Comforter, that he may abide with you for ever."--John xiv. 16. The Abiding Comforter. When one beloved earthly friend is taken away, how the heart is drawn out towards those that remain! Jesus was now about to leave His sorrowing disciples. He directs them to one whose presence would fill up the vast blank His own absence was to make. His name was, _The Comforter_; His mission was, "to abide with them for ever." Accordingly, no sooner had the gates of heaven closed on their ascended Lord, than, in fulfilment of His own gracious promise, the bereaved and orphaned Church was baptized with Pentecostal fire. "When I depart, I will send Him unto you." Reader, do you realize your privilege--living under the dispensation of the Spirit? Is it your daily prayer that He may come down in all the plenitude of His heavenly graces on your soul, even "as rain upon the mown grass, and showers that water the earth?" You cannot live without Him; there can be not one heavenly aspiration, not one breathing of love, not one upward glance of faith, without His gracious influences. Apart from him, there is no preciousness in the word, no blessing in ordinances, no permanent sanctifying results in affliction. As the angel directed Hagar to the hidden spring, this blessed agent, true to His name and office, directs His people to the waters of comfort, giving new glory to the promises, investing the Saviour's character and work with new loveliness and beauty. How precious is the title which this "Word of Jesus" gives Him--THE COMFORTER! What a word for a sorrowing world! The Church militant has its tent pitched in a "valley of _tears_." The name of the divine visitant who comes to her and ministers to her wants, is _Comforter_. Wide is the family of the afflicted, but He has a healing balm for all--the weak, the tempted, the sick, the sorrowing, the bereaved, the dying! How different from other "sons of consolation?" _Human friends_--a look may alienate; adversity may estrange; death must separate! The "Word of Jesus" speaks of One whose attribute and prerogative is to "abide with us for ever;" superior to all vicissitudes--surviving death itself! And surely if anything else can endear His mission of love to His Church, it is that He comes direct from God, as the fruit and gift of _Jesus' intercession_--"_I_ will pray the Father." This holy dove of peace and comfort is let out by the hand of Jesus from the ark of covenant mercy within the veil! Nor is the gift more glorious than it is free. Does the word, the look, of a suffering child get the eye and the heart of an _earthly_ father? "If ye then, being evil, know how to give good gifts unto your children, how much more shall your Father in heaven give the Holy Spirit unto them that ask Him?" It is He who makes these "words of Jesus" "winged words." "HE SHALL BRING ALL THINGS TO YOUR REMEMBRANCE, WHATSOEVER I HAVE SAID UNTO YOU." 9TH DAY. "Remember the words of the Lord Jesus, how He said"-- "Neither do I condemn thee; go and sin no more."--John viii. 11. The Gracious Verdict. How much more tender is Jesus than the tenderest of earthly friends? The Apostles, in a moment of irritation would have called down fire from heaven on obstinate sinners. Their Master rebuked the unkind suggestion. Peter, the trusted but treacherous disciple, expected nothing but harsh and merited reproof for faithlessness. He who knew well how that heart would be bowed with penitential sorrow, sends first the kindest of messages, and then the gentlest of rebukes, "Lovest thou me?" The watchmen in the Canticles smote the bride, tore off her veil, and loaded her with reproaches. When she found her lost Lord, there was not one word of upbraiding! "So slow is He to anger," says an illustrious believer, "so ready to forgive, that when His prophets lost all patience with the people so as to make intercession _against_ them, yet even then could He not be got to cast off this people whom He foreknew, for his great name's sake." The guilty sinner to whom He speaks this comforting "word," was frowned upon by her accusers. But, if others spurned her from their presence, "_Neither do I condemn thee._" Well it is to fall into the hands of this blessed Saviour-God, for great are His mercies. Are we to infer from this, that He winks at sin? Far from it. His blood, His work--Bethlehem, and Calvary, refute the thought! Ere the guilt even of one solitary soul could be washed out, He had to descend from His everlasting throne to agonise on the accursed tree. But this "word of Jesus" is a word of tender encouragement to every sincere, broken-hearted penitent, that crimson sins, and scarlet sins, are no barriers to a free, full, everlasting forgiveness. The Israelite of old, gasping in his agony in the sands of the wilderness, had but to "_look_ and _live_;" and still does He say, "Look unto me, and be ye saved, all the ends of the earth." Up-reared by the side of his own cross there was a monumental column for all Time, only second to itself in wonder. Over the head of the dying felon is the superscription written for despairing guilt and trembling penitence, "This is a faithful saying, and worthy of all acceptation, that Jesus Christ came into the world to save sinners." "He never yet," says Charnock, "put out a dim candle that was lighted at the Sun of Righteousness." "Whatever our guiltiness be," says Rutherford, "yet when it falleth into the sea of God's mercy, it is but like a drop of blood fallen into the great ocean." Reader, you may be the chief of sinners, or it may be the chief of backsliders; your soul may have started aside like a broken bow. As the bankrupt is afraid to look into his books, you may be afraid to look into your own heart. You are hovering on the verge of despair. Conscience, and the memory of unnumbered sins, is uttering the desponding verdict, "I condemn thee." Jesus has a kinder word--a more cheering declaration--"_I_ condemn thee _not_: go, and sin no more!" "AND ALL WONDERED AT THE GRACIOUS _WORDS_ THAT PROCEEDED OUT OF HIS MOUTH." 10TH DAY. "Remember the words of the Lord Jesus, how He said"-- "Whosoever shall do the will of my Father which is in heaven, the same is my brother, and my sister, and mother."--Matt. xii. 50. The Wondrous Relationship. As if no solitary earthly type were enough to image forth the love of Jesus, He assembles into one verse a group of the tenderest earthly relationships. Human affection has to focus its loveliest hues, but all is too little to afford an exponent of the depth and intensity of _His_. "As one whom his _mother_ comforteth;" "my _sister_, my _spouse_." He is "_Son_," "_Brother_" "_Friend_"--all in one; "cleaving closer than any brother." And can we wonder at such language? Is it merely figurative, expressive of more than the reality?--He gave _Himself_ for us; after that pledge of His affection we must cease to marvel at any expression of the interest He feels in us. Anything He can _say_ or _do_ is infinitely less than what He _has done_. Believer! art thou solitary and desolate? Has bereavement severed earthly ties? Has the grave made forced estrangements,--sundered the closest links of earthly affection? In Jesus thou hast filial and fraternal love combined; He is the Friend of friends, whose presence and fellowship compensates for all losses, and supplies all blanks; "He setteth the solitary in families." If thou art orphaned, friendless, comfortless here, remember there is in the Elder Brother on the Throne a love deep as the unfathomed ocean, boundless as Eternity? And who are those who can claim the blessedness spoken of under this wondrous imagery? On whom does He lavish this unutterable affection? No outward profession will purchase it. No church, no priest, no ordinances, no denominational distinctions. It is on those who are possessed of _holy characters_. "He that doeth the will of my Father which is in heaven!" He who reflects the mind of Jesus; imbibes His Spirit; takes His Word as the regulator of his daily walk, and makes His glory the great end of his being; he who lives _to_ God and _with_ God, and _for_ God; the humble, lowly, Christ-like, Heaven-seeking Christian;--he it is who can claim as his own this wondrous heritage of love! If it be a worthy object of ambition to be loved by the good and the great on earth, what must it be to have an eye of love ever beaming upon us from the Throne, in comparison of which the attachment here of brother, sister, kinsman, friend--all combined--pales like the stars before the rising sun! Though we are often ashamed to call Him "Brother," "He is not ashamed to call us _brethren_." He looks down on poor worms, and says, "_The same_ is my mother, and sister, and brother!" "I will write upon them," He says in another place, "my new name." Just as we write our name on a book to tell that it belongs to us; so Jesus would write His own name on _us_, the wondrous volumes of His grace, that they may be read and pondered by principalities and powers. Have we "known and believed this love of God?" Ah, how poor has been the requital! Who cannot subscribe to the words of one, whose name was in all the churches,--"Thy love has been as a shower; the return but a dew-drop, and that dew-drop stained with sin." "IF A MAN LOVE ME, HE WILL KEEP _MY WORDS_; AND MY FATHER WILL LOVE HIM, AND WE WILL COME UNTO HIM, AND MAKE OUR ABODE WITH HIM." 11TH DAY. "Remember the words of the Lord Jesus, how He said"-- "I will not leave you comfortless: I will come to you."--John xiv. 18. The Befriended Orphans. Does the Christian's path lie all the way through Beulah? Nay, he is forewarned it is to be one of "much tribulation." He has his Marahs as well as his Elims--his valleys of Baca as well as his grapes of Eschol. Often is he left unbefriended to bear the brunt of the storm--his gourds fading when most needed--his sun going down while it is yet day--his happy home and happy heart darkened in a moment with sorrows with which a stranger (with which often a _brother_) cannot intermeddle. There is _One_ Brother "born for adversity," who _can_. How often has that voice broken with its silvery accents the muffled stillness of the sick-chamber or death-chamber! "'_I_ will not leave you comfortless:' the world _may_, friends _may_, the desolations of bereavement and death _may_; but _I will not_; you will be alone, yet _not_ alone, for I your Saviour and your God will be with you!" Jesus seems to have an especial love and affection for His orphaned and comfortless people. A father loves his sick and sorrowing child most; of all his household, he occupies most of his thoughts. Christ seems to delight to lavish His deepest sympathy on "him that hath no helper." It is in the hour of sorrow His people have found Him most precious; it is in "the wilderness" He speaks most "comfortably unto them;" He gives them "their vineyards from thence:" in the places they least expected, wells of heavenly consolation break forth at their feet. As Jonathan of old, when faint and weary, had his strength revived by the honey he found dropping in the tangled thicket: so the faint and woe-worn children of God find "honey in the wood"--everlasting consolation dropping from the tree of life, in the midst of the thorniest thickets of affliction. Comfortless ones, be comforted! Jesus often makes you _portionless_ here, to drive you to Himself, the _everlasting portion_. He often dries every rill and fountain of earthly bliss, that He may lead you to say, "All my springs are in Thee." "He seems intent," says one who could speak from experience, "to fill up every gap love has been forced to make; one of his errands from heaven was to bind up the broken-hearted." How beautifully in one amazing verse does he conjoin the depth and tenderness of his comfort with the certainty of it--"As one whom his mother comforteth, so will I comfort you, and ye SHALL be comforted!" Ah, how many would not have their wilderness-state altered, with all its trials, and gloom, and sorrow, just that they might enjoy the unutterable sympathy and love of this Comforter of the comfortless, one ray of whose approving smile can dispel the deepest earthly gloom? As the clustering constellations shine with intensest lustre in the midnight sky, so these "words of Jesus" come out like ministering angels in the deep dark night of earthly sorrow. We may see no beauty in them when the world is sunny and bright; but He has laid them up in store for us for the dark and cloudy day. "THESE THINGS HAVE I TOLD YOU, THAT WHEN THE TIME COMETH, YE MAY REMEMBER THAT I TOLD YOU OF THEM." 12TH DAY. "Remember the words of the Lord Jesus, how He said"-- "In the world ye shall have tribulation: but be of good cheer; I have overcome the world."--John xvi. 33. The World Conquered. And shall I be afraid of a world already conquered? The Almighty Victor, within view of His Crown, turns round to His faint and weary soldiers, and bids them take courage. They are not fighting their way through untried enemies. The God-Man Mediator "_knows_ their sorrows." "He was in _all points_ tempted." "Both He (_i. e._, Christ) who sanctifieth, and they (His people) who are sanctified, are all of one (nature)." As the great Precursor, he heads the pilgrim band, saying "I will show you the path of life." The way to heaven is consecrated by His footprints. Every thorn that wounds _them_, has wounded _Him_ before. Every cross they can bear, he has borne before. Every tear they shed, He has shed before. There is one respect, indeed, in which the identity fails,--He was "yet without sin;" but this recoil of His Holy nature from moral evil gives Him a deeper and intenser sensibility towards those who have still corruption within responding to temptation without. Reader! are you ready to faint under your tribulations? Is it a seducing world--a wandering, wayward heart? "Consider _Him_ that endured!" Listen to your adorable Redeemer, stooping from His Throne, and saying, "_I_ have overcome the world." He came forth unscathed from its snares. With the same heavenly weapon He bids you wield, three times did he repel the Tempter, saying, "It is written."--Is it some crushing trial, or overwhelming grief? He is "_acquainted_ with _grief_." He, the mighty Vine, knows the minutest fibres of sorrow in the branches; when the pruning knife touches _them_, it touches _Him_. "He has gone," says a tried sufferer, "through every class in our wilderness school." He loves to bring His people into untried and perplexing places, that they may seek out the guiding pillar, and prize its radiance. He puts them on the darkening waves, that they may follow the guiding light hung out astern from the only Bark of pure and unsullied Humanity that was ever proof against the storm. Be assured there is disguised love in all He does. He who knows us infinitely better than we know ourselves, often puts a thorn in our nest to drive us to the wing, that we may not be grovellers forever. "It is," says Evans, "upon the smooth ice we slip, the rough path is safest for the feet." The tearless and undimmed eye is not to be coveted _here_; _that_ is reserved for heaven! Who can tell what muffled and disguised "needs be" there may lurk under these world-tribulations? His true spiritual seed are often planted deep in the soil; they have to make their way through a load of sorrow before they reach the surface; but their roots are thereby the firmer and deeper struck. Had it not been for these lowly and needed "depths," they might have rushed up as feeble saplings, and succumbed to the first blast. He often leads His people still, as he led them of old, to "a high mountain apart;" but it is to a _high_ mountain--_above the world_; and, better still, He who Himself hath overcome the world, leadeth them there, and speaketh comfortably unto them. "I HOPE IN THY _WORD_." 13TH DAY. "Remember the words of the Lord Jesus, how He said"-- "Fear not, little flock; it is your Father's good pleasure to give you the kingdom."--Luke xii. 32. The Little Flock. The music of the Shepherd's voice again! Another comforting "word," and how tender! _his_ flock a _little_ flock, a _feeble_ flock, a _fearful_ flock, but a _beloved_ flock, loved of the Father, enjoying His "good pleasure," and soon to be a _glorified_ flock, safe in the fold, secure within the kingdom! How does He quiet their fears and misgivings? As they stand panting on the bleak mountain side, He points His crook upwards to the bright and shining gates of glory, and says, "It is your Father's good pleasure to give you these!" What gentle words! What a blessed consummation! Gracious Saviour, Thy _gentleness_ hath made me _great_! That kingdom is the believer's by irreversible and inalienable charter-right--"I appoint unto you" (by covenant), says Jesus in another place, "a kingdom, as my Father hath appointed unto me." It is as sure as everlasting love and almighty power can make it. Satan, the great foe of the kingdom, may be injecting foul misgivings, and doubts, and fears as to your security; but he cannot denude you of your purchased immunities. He must first pluck the crown from the Brow upon the Throne, before he can weaken or impair this sure word of promise. If "it pleased the Lord" to _bruise_ the Shepherd, it will surely please Him to make happy the purchased flock. If He "smote" His "Fellow" when the sheep were scattered, surely it will rejoice Him, for the Shepherd's sake, "to turn His hand upon the little ones." Believers, think of this! "It is your Father's good pleasure." The Good Shepherd, in leading you across the intervening mountains, shows you signals and memorials of paternal grace studding all the way. He may "lead you about" in your way thither. He led the children of Israel of old out of Egypt to their promised kingdom,--how? By forty years' wilderness-discipline and privations. But trust Him; dishonour Him not with guilty doubts and fears. Look not back on your dark, stumbling paths, nor within on your fitful and vacillating heart; but forwards to the land that is far off. How earnestly God desires your salvation! What a heaping together of similar tender "words" with that which is here addressed to us? The Gospel seems like a palace full of opened windows, from each of which He issues an invitation, declaring that He has no pleasure in our death--but rather that we would turn and live! Let the melody of the Shepherd's reed fall gently on your ear,--"It is your Father's good pleasure." I have given you, He seems to say, the best proof that it is _mine_. In order to purchase that kingdom, I died for you! But it is also _His_: "As a shepherd seeketh out his flock in the day that he is among his sheep that are scattered, so," says God, "will I seek out my sheep, and will deliver them out of all places where they have been scattered in the cloudy and dark day." Fear not, then, little flock! though yours for a while should be the bleak mountain and sterile waste, seeking your way Zionward, it may be "with torn fleeces and bleeding feet;" for, "IT IS NOT THE WILL OF YOUR FATHER WHICH IS IN HEAVEN, THAT ONE OF THESE LITTLE ONES SHOULD PERISH." 14TH DAY. "Remember the words of the Lord Jesus, how He said"-- "If any man thirst, let him come unto me, and drink."--John vii. 37. The Unlimited Offer. One of the most gracious "words" that ever "proceeded out of the mouth of God!" The time it was uttered was an impressive one; it was on "the last, the great day" of the Feast of Tabernacles, when a denser multitude than on any of the seven preceding ones were assembled together. The golden bowl, according to custom, had probably just been filled with the waters of Siloam, and was being carried up to the Temple amid the acclamations of the crowd, when the Saviour of the world seized the opportunity of speaking to them some truths of momentous import. Many, doubtless, were the "words of Jesus" uttered on the previous days, but the most important is reserved for the last. What, then, is the great closing theme on which He rivets the attention of this vast auditory, and which He would have them carry away to their distant homes? It is, _The freeness of His own great salvation_--"If any man thirst, let him come unto me and drink." Reader, do you discredit the reality of this gracious offer? Are your legion sins standing as a barrier between you and a Saviour's proffered mercy? Do you feel as if you cannot come "just as you are;" that some partial cleansing, some preparatory reformation must take place before you can venture to the living fountain? Nay, "_if any man_." What is freer than water?--The poorest beggar may drink "without money" the wayside pool. _That_ is your Lord's own picture of His own glorious salvation; you are invited to come, "without one plea," in all your poverty and want, your weakness and unworthiness. Remember the Redeemer's saying to the woman of Samaria. She was the chief of sinners--profligate--hardened--degraded; but He made no condition, no qualification; _simple believing_ was all that was required,--"If thou knewest the gift of God," thou wouldst have asked, and He would have given thee "living water." But is there not, after all, _one_ condition mentioned in this "word of Jesus?"--"_If_ any man _thirst_." You may have the depressing consciousness that you experience no such ardent longings after holiness,--no feeling of your affecting need of the Saviour. But is not this very conviction of your want an indication of a feeble longing after Christ? If you are saying, "I have nothing to draw with, and the well is deep," He who makes offer of the salvation-stream will Himself fill your empty vessel,--"He satisfieth the _longing_ soul with goodness." "Jesus _stood_ and _cried_." It is the solitary instance recorded of Him of whom it is said, "He shall _not_ strive nor cry," lifting up "His voice in the streets." But it was truth of surpassing interest and magnitude He had to proclaim. It was a declaration, moreover, specially dear to him. As it formed the theme of this ever-memorable _sermon_ during His public ministry, so when He was sealing up the inspired record--the last utterances of His voice on earth, till that voice shall be heard again on the throne, contained the same life-giving invitation,--"Let him that is athirst come, and whosoever will, let him take of the water of life freely." Oh! as the echoes of that gracious saying--this blast of the silver trumpet--are still sounding to the ends of the world, may this be the recorded result, "AS HE SPAKE _THESE WORDS_, MANY BELIEVED ON HIM." 15TH DAY. "Remember the words of the Lord Jesus, how He said"-- "My yoke is easy, and my burden is light."--Matt. xi. 30. The Joyful Servitude. Can the same be said of Satan, or sin? With regard to _them_, how faithfully true rather is the converse--"my yoke is _heavy_, and my burden is _grievous_!" Christ's service is a happy service, the _only_ happy one; and even when there is a cross to carry, or a yoke to bear, it is His own appointment. "_My_ yoke." It is sent by no untried friend. Nay, He who puts it on His people, bore this very yoke Himself. "He _carried_ our sorrows." How blessed this feeling of holy servitude to so kind a Master! not like "dumb, driven cattle," goaded on, but _led_, and led often most tenderly when the yoke and the burden are upon us. The great apostle rarely speaks of himself under any other title but _one_. That _one_ he seems to make his boast. He had much whereof he might glory;--he had been the instrument in saving thousands--he had spoken before kings--he had been in Cæsar's palace and Cæsar's presence--he had been caught up into the third heaven,--but in all his letters this is his joyful prefix and superscription, "The _Servant_ (literally, _the slave_) of Jesus Christ!" Reader! dost thou know this blessed servitude? Canst thou say with a joyful heart, "O Lord, truly I am Thy servant?" He is no hard taskmaster. Would Satan try to teach thee so? Let this be the refutation, "He loved me, and gave _Himself_ for _me_." True, the yoke is the appointed discipline he employs in training his children for immortality. But be comforted! "It is His tender hand that _puts_ it on, and _keeps_ it on." He will suit the yoke to the neck, and the neck to the yoke. He will suit His grace to your trials. Nay, He will bring you even to be in love with these, when they bring along with them such gracious unfoldings of His own faithfulness and mercy. How His people need thus to be in heaviness through manifold temptations, to keep them meek and submissive! "Jeshurun (like a bullock unaccustomed to the harness, fed and pampered in the stall) waxed fat, and kicked." Never is there more gracious love than when God takes His own means to curb and subjugate, to humble us, and to prove us--bringing us out from ourselves, our likings, our confidences, our prosperity, and putting us under the needed YOKE. And who has ever repented of that joyful servitude? Among all the ten thousand regrets that mingle with a dying hour, and oft bedew with bitter tears a dying pillow, who ever told of regrets and repentance here? Tried believer, has He ever failed thee? Has His yoke been too grievous? Have thy tears been unalleviated--thy sorrows unsolaced--thy temptations above that thou wert able to bear? Ah! rather canst thou not testify, "The word of the Lord is tried;" I cast my burden upon Him, and He "sustained me?" How have seeming difficulties melted away! How has the yoke lost its heaviness, and the cross its bitterness, in the thought of whom thou wert bearing it for! There is a promised rest in the very carrying of the yoke; and a better rest remains for the weary and toil-worn when the appointed work is finished; for thus saith "that same Jesus," "TAKE MY YOKE UPON YOU, AND LEARN OF ME, ... AND YE SHALL FIND _REST_ UNTO YOUR SOULS." 16TH DAY. "Remember the words of the Lord Jesus, how He said"-- "As the Father hath loved me, so have I loved you."--John xv. 9. The Measure of Love. This is the most wondrous verse in the Bible. Who can sound the unimagined depths of that love which dwelt in the bosom of the Father from all eternity towards His Son?--and yet here is the Saviour's own exponent of His love towards His people! There is no subject more profoundly mysterious than those mystic intercommunings between the first and second persons in the adorable Trinity before the world was. Scripture gives us only some dim and shadowy revelations regarding them--distant gleams of light, and no more. Let one suffice. "_Then_ I was by Him, as one brought up with Him, and I was daily His delight, rejoicing always before Him." We know that earthly affection is deepened and intensified by increased familiarity with its object. The friendship of yesterday is not the sacred, hallowed thing, which years of growing intercourse have matured. If we may with reverence apply this test to the highest type of holy affection, what must have been that interchange of love which the measureless lapse of Eternity had fostered--a love, moreover, not fitful, transient, vacillating, subject to altered tones and estranged looks--but pure, constant, untainted, without one shadow of turning! And yet, listen to the "words of Jesus," As the Father hath loved _me_, _so_ have I loved _you_! It would have been infinitely more than we had reason to expect, if He had said, "As my Father hath loved ANGELS, so have I loved you." But the love borne to no finite beings is an appropriate symbol. Long before the birth of time or of worlds, that love existed. It was coeval with Eternity itself. Hear how the two themes of the Saviour's eternal rejoicing--the _love of His Father_, and His _love for sinners_--are grouped together;--"Rejoicing always before HIM, _and_ in the habitable part of His _earth_!" To complete the picture, we must take in a counterpart description of the _Father's_ love to us;--"_Therefore_ doth my Father love me," says Jesus in another place, "_because_ I lay down my life!" God had an all-sufficiency in His love--He needed not the taper-love of creatures to add to His glory or happiness; but He seems to say, that so intense is His love for us, that He loves even His beloved Son _more_ (if infinite love be capable of increase), because He laid down His life for the guilty! It is regarding the Redeemed it is said, "He shall _rest_ in His love--He shall rejoice over _them_ with singing." In the assertion, "God is love," we are left truly with no mere unproved averment regarding the existence of some abstract quality in the divine nature. "Herein," says an apostle, "perceive we THE LOVE,"--(it is added in our authorised version, "of God," but, as it has been remarked, "Our translators need not have added _whose_ love, for there is but one such specimen")--"_because_ He laid down His life for us." No expression of love can be wondered at after _this_. Ah, how miserable are our best affections compared with His! "_Our_ love is but the reflection--cold as the moon; _His_ is as the Sun." Shall we refuse to love Him more in return, who hath _first_ loved, and so _loved us_? "NEVER MAN SPAKE LIKE THIS MAN." 17TH DAY. "Remember the words of the Lord Jesus, how He said"-- "Only believe."--Mark v. 36. The Brief Gospel. The briefest of the "words of Jesus," but one of the most comforting. They contain the essence and epitome of all saving truth. Reader, is _Satan_ assailing thee with tormenting fears? Is the thought of thy sins--the guilty past--coming up in terrible memorial before thee, almost tempting thee to give way to hopeless despondency? Fear not! A gentle voice whispers in thine ear,--"_Only believe._" "Thy sins are great, but my grace and merits are greater. 'Only believe' that I died for thee--that I am living for thee and pleading for thee, and that 'the faithful saying' is as 'faithful' as ever, and as 'worthy of all acceptation' as ever."--Art thou a _backslider_? Didst thou once run well? Has thine own guilty apostacy alienated and estranged thee from that face which was once all love, and that service which was once all delight? Art thou breathing in broken-hearted sorrow over the holy memories of a close walk with God--"Oh that it were with me as in months past, when the candle of the Lord did shine?" "_Only believe._" Take this thy mournful soliloquy, and convert it into a prayer. "Only believe" the word of Him whose ways are not as man's ways--"Return, ye backsliding children, and I will heal your backsliding."--Art thou beaten down with some heavy _trial_? have thy fondest schemes been blown upon--thy fairest blossoms been withered in the bud? has wave after wave been rolling in upon thee? hath the Lord forgotten to be gracious? Hear the "word of Jesus" resounding amid the thickest midnight of gloom--penetrating even through the vaults of the dead--"Believe, _only believe_." There is an infinite _reason_ for the trial--a lurking thorn that required removal, a gracious lesson that required teaching. The dreadful severing blow was dealt in love. God will be glorified in it, and your own soul made the better for it. Patiently wait till the light of immortality be reflected on a receding world. Here you must take His dealings on trust. The word of Jesus to you now is, "_Only believe._" The word of Jesus in eternity (every inner meaning and undeveloped purpose being unfolded), "Said I not unto thee that if thou wouldest _but_ BELIEVE, thou shouldst SEE the glory of God?"--Are you fearful and agitated in _the prospect of death_? Through fear of the last enemy, have you been all your lifetime subject to bondage?--"_Only believe._" "As thy day is, so shall thy strength be." Dying grace will be given when a dying hour comes. In the dark river a sustaining arm will be underneath you, deeper than the deepest and darkest wave. Ere you know it, the darkness will be past, the true Light shining,--the whisper of faith in the nether valley, "Believe! believe!" exchanged for angel-voices exclaiming, as you enter the portals of glory, "No longer through a glass darkly, but now face to face!" Yes! "Jesus Himself had no higher remedy for sin, for sorrow, and for suffering, than those two words convey. At the utmost extremity of His own distress, and of His disciples' wretchedness, He could only say, 'Let not your heart be troubled: ye believe in God, believe also in me.' 'Believe, only believe.'" "LORD, I BELIEVE, HELP THOU MINE UNBELIEF." 18TH DAY. "Remember the words of the Lord Jesus, how He said"-- "Be of good cheer: It is I; be not afraid."--Mark vi. 50. The Great Calm. "It is I," (or as our old version has it, more in accordance with the original), "I AM! be not afraid!" Jesus lives! His people may dispel their misgivings--Omnipotence treads the waves! To sense it may seem at times to be otherwise; wayward accident and chance may appear to regulate human allotments; but not so: "The Lord's voice is upon the waters,"--He sits at the helm guiding the tempest-tossed bark, and guiding it well. How often does He come to us as He did to the disciples in that midnight hour when all seems lost--"in the fourth watch of the night,"--when we least looked for Him; or when, like the shipwrecked apostle, "for days together neither sun nor stars appeared, and no small tempest lay on us; when all hope that we should be saved seemed to be taken away,"--how often _just at that moment_, is the "word of Jesus" heard floating over the billows! Believer, art thou in trouble? listen to the voice in the storm, "Fear not, _I_ AM." That voice, like Joseph's of old to his brethren, may _seem_ rough, but there are gracious undertones of love. "It is I," he seems to say; It _was_ I, that roused the storm; It is I, who when it has done its work, will calm it, and say, "Peace, be still." Every wave rolls at My bidding--every trial is My appointment--all have some gracious end; they are not sent to dash you against the sunken rocks, but to waft you nearer heaven. Is it _sickness_? I am He who bare your sickness; the weary wasted frame, and the nights of languishing, were sent by Me. Is it _bereavement_? I am "the Brother" born for adversity--the loved and lost were plucked away by Me. Is it _death_? I AM the "Abolisher of death," seated by your side to calm the waves of ebbing life; it is _I_, about to fetch My pilgrims _home_--It is My voice that speaks, "The Master is come, and calleth for thee." Reader, thou wilt have reason yet to praise thy God for every one such storm! This is the history of every heavenly voyager: "_So_ He bringeth them to their desired haven." "_So!_" That word, in all its unknown and diversified meaning, is in _His_ hand. He suits His dealings to every case. "_So!_" With some it is through quiet seas unfretted by one buffeting wave. "_So!_" With others it is "mounting up to heaven, and going down again to the deep." But whatever be the leading and the discipline, here is the grand consummation, "_So_ He bringeth them unto their desired haven." It might have been with thee the moanings of an eternal night-blast--no lull or pause in the storm; but soon the darkness will be past, and the hues of morn tipping the shores of glory! And what, then, should your attitude be? "Looking unto Jesus" (literally, looking _from unto_); looking away from self, and sin, and human props and refuges and confidences, and fixing the eye of unwavering and unflinching faith on a reigning Saviour. Ah, how a real quickening sight of Christ dispels all guilty fears! The Roman keepers of old were affrighted, and became as dead men. The lowly Jewish women feared not; why? "_I know that ye seek Jesus!_" Reader, let thy weary spirit fold itself to rest under the composing "word" of a gracious Saviour, saying---- "I WAIT FOR THE LORD, MY SOUL DOTH WAIT, AND IN _HIS WORD_ DO I HOPE." 19TH DAY. "Remember the words of the Lord Jesus, how He said"-- "Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you: not as the world giveth, give I unto you."--John xiv. 27. The Dying Legacy. How we treasure the last sayings of a dying parent! How specially cherished and memorable are his last looks and last words! Here are the last words--the parting legacy--of a dying Saviour. It is a legacy of _peace_. What peace is this? It is His own purchase--a peace arising out of free forgiveness through His precious blood. It is sung in concert with "Glory to God in the highest"--a peace made as sure to us as eternal power and infinite love _can make it_! It is _peace_ the soul wants. Existence is one long-drawn sigh after repose. _That_ is nowhere else to be found, but through the blood of His cross! "Being justified by faith, we _have_ peace with God." "HE giveth his beloved _rest_!" How different from the false and counterfeit peace in which so many are content to live, and content to die! The world's peace is all well, so long as prosperity lasts--so long as the stream runs smooth, and the sky is clear; but when the cataract is at hand, or the storm is gathering, where is it? It is _gone_! There is no calculating on its permanency. Often when the cup is fullest, there is the trembling apprehension that in one brief moment it may be dashed to the ground. The soul may be saying to itself, "Peace, peace;" but, like the writing on the sand, it may be obliterated by the first wave of adversity. BUT, "Not as the world giveth!" The peace of the believer is deep--calm--lasting--_ever_lasting. The world, with all its blandishments, cannot give it. The world, with all its vicissitudes and fluctuations, cannot take it away! It is brightest in the hour of trial; it lights up the final valley-gloom. "Mark the perfect man, and behold the upright, for the end of that man is peace." Yes! how often is the believer's deathbed like the deep calm repose of a summer-evening's sky, when all nature is hushed to rest; the departing soul, like the vanishing sun, peacefully disappearing only to shine in another and brighter hemisphere! "I seem," said Simeon on his deathbed, "to have nothing to do but to wait: there is now nothing but _peace_, the _sweetest peace_." Believer! do you know this peace which passeth understanding? Is it "keeping (literally, '_garrisoning_ as in a citadel') your heart?" Have you learnt the blessedness of waking up, morning after morning, and feeling, "I am at peace with my God;" of beholding by faith the true Aaron--the great High Priest--coming forth from "the holiest of all" to "bless His people with peace?" Waves of trouble may be murmuring around you, but they cannot touch you; you are in the rock-crevice athwart which the fiercest tornado sweeps by. Oh! leave not the making up of your peace with God to a dying hour! It will be a hard thing to smooth the death-pillow, if peace be left unsought till then. Make sure of it _now_. He, the true Melchisedec, is willing _now_ to come forth to meet you with bread and wine--emblems of peaceful gospel blessings. All the "words of Jesus" are so many rills contributing to make your peace flow as a river;--"These things have I spoken unto you, that in Me ye might have peace." "I WILL HEAR WHAT GOD THE LORD WILL SPEAK, FOR HE WILL SPEAK PEACE UNTO HIS PEOPLE AND TO HIS SAINTS." 20TH DAY. "Remember the words of the Lord Jesus, how He said"-- "All power is given unto me in heaven and in earth."--Matt. xxviii. 18. The Supreme Investiture. What an empire is this! Heaven and earth--the Church militant--the Church triumphant--angels and archangels--saints and seraphs. At His mandate the billows were hushed--demons crouched in terror--the grave yielded its prey! "Upon his head are many crowns." He is made "head over _all things_ to His Church." Yes! over _all things_, from the minutest to the mightiest. He holds the stars in His right hand--He walks in the midst of the seven golden candlesticks, feeding every candlestick with the oil of His grace, and preserving every star in its spiritual orbit. The prince of Darkness has "a power," but, God be praised, it is not an "all power;" _potent_, but not _omnipotent_. Christ holds him in a chain. He hath set bounds that he may not pass over. "Satan," we read in the book of Job, "went out (_Chaldee paraphrase_, 'with a licence') from the presence of the Lord." He was not allowed even to enter the herd of swine till Christ permitted him. He only "_desired_" to have Peter that he might "sift him;" there was a mightier countervailing agency at hand: "_I_ have prayed for thee, that thy faith fail not." Believer, how often is there nothing but this grace of Jesus between thee and everlasting destruction! Satan's key fitting the lock in thy wayward heart; but a stronger than the strong man barring him out;--the power of the adversary fanning the flame; the Omnipotence of Jesus quenching it. Art thou even now feeling the strength of thy corruptions, the weakness of thy graces, the presence of some outward or inward temptation? Look up to Him who has promised to make His grace sufficient for thee; "all power" is His prerogative; "all-sufficiency in all things" is His promise. It is power, too, in conjunction with tenderness. He who sways the sceptre of universal empire "gently leads" His weak, and weary, and burdened ones:--He who counts the number of the stars, loves to count the number of their sorrows; nothing too great, nothing too insignificant for _Him_. He puts every tear into his bottle. He paves His people's pathway with love! Blessed Jesus! my everlasting interests cannot be in better or in safer keeping than in Thine. I can exultingly rely on the "_all-power_" of Thy Godhead. I can sweetly rejoice in the _all-sympathy_ of Thy Manhood. I can confidently repose in the sure wisdom of Thy dealings. "Sometimes," says one, "we expect the blessing in _our_ way; He chooses to bestow it in _His_." But His way and His will must be the best. Infinite love, infinite power, infinite wisdom, are surely infallible guarantees. His purposes nothing can alter. His promises never fail. His word never falls to the ground. "HEAVEN AND EARTH SHALL PASS AWAY, BUT _MY WORDS_ SHALL NOT PASS AWAY." 21ST DAY. "Remember the words of the Lord Jesus, how He said"-- "He shall glorify me: for He shall receive of mine, and shall show it unto you."--John xvi. 14. The Divine Glorifier. The Holy Spirit glorifying Jesus in the unfoldings of His person, and character, and work, to His people! The great ministering agent between the Church on earth and its glorified Head in Heaven,--carrying up to the Intercessor on the throne, the ever-recurring wants and trials, the perplexities and sins, of believers; and receiving out of His inexhaustible treasury of love,--comfort for their sorrows--strength for their weakness--sympathy for their tears--fulness for their emptiness,--and _this_ the one sublime end and object of His gracious agency,--"_He shall glorify Me._" "He shall not speak of Himself, but whatsoever He shall hear, that shall He speak." My words of sympathy--My omnipotent pleadings--the tender messages sent from an unchanged Human Heart,--all these shall He speak. "He shall tell you," says an old divine, commenting on this passage, "He shall tell you nothing but stories of My love" (_Goodwin_). He will have an ineffable delight in magnifying Me in the affections of My Church and people, and endearing Me to their hearts; and He is all worthy of credence, for He is "the Spirit of truth." How faithful has He been in every age to this His great office as "the glorifier of Jesus!" See the first manifestation of His power in the Christian Church at the day of Pentecost. What was the grand truth which forms the focus-point of interest in that unparalleled scene, and which brings three thousand stricken penitents to their knees? _It is the Spirit's unfolding of Jesus_--glorifying _Him_ in eyes that before saw in Him no beauty? Hear the key-note of that wondrous sermon, preached "in demonstration of the Spirit, and with power,"--"HIM hath God exalted to be a Prince and a Saviour, to give repentance to His people, and forgiveness of sins." Ah? it is still the same peerless truth which the Spirit delights to unfold to the stricken sinner, and, in unfolding it, to make it mighty to the pulling down of strongholds. All these glorious inner beauties of Christ's work and character are undiscerned and undiscernible by the natural eye. "It is the Spirit that quickeneth." "No man can call Jesus Lord, but by the Holy Ghost." He is the great Forerunner--a mightier than the Baptist--proclaiming, "Behold the Lamb of God!" Reader! any bright and realising view you have had of the Saviour's glory and excellency, is of the Spirit's imparting. When in some hour of sorrow you have been led to cleave with pre-eminent consolation to the thought of the Redeemer's exalted sympathy--His dying, ever-living love; or in the hour of death, when you feel the sustaining power of His exceeding great and precious promises;--what is this, but the Holy Spirit, in fulfilment of His all-gracious office, taking of all things of Christ, and showing them unto you; thus enabling you to magnify Him in your body, whether it be by life or death? As your motto should ever be, "_None BUT Christ_," and your ever-increasing aspiration, "_More OF Christ_," seek to bear in mind who it is that is alone qualified to impart the "excellency of this knowledge." "THE SPIRIT OF TRUTH WHICH PROCEEDETH FROM THE FATHER, _HE_ SHALL TESTIFY OF ME." 22D DAY. "Remember the words of the Lord Jesus, how He said"-- "Your sorrow shall be turned into joy."--John xvi. 20. The Joyful Transformation. Christ's people are a sorrowing people! Chastisement is their badge--"great tribulation" is their appointed discipline. When they enter the gates of glory, He is represented as wiping away tears from their eyes. But, weeping ones, be comforted! Your Lord's special mission to earth--the great errand He came from heaven to fulfil, was "to bind up the broken-hearted." Your trials are meted out by a tender hand. He _knows_ you too well--He _loves_ you too well--to make this world tearless and sorrowless! "There must be rain, and hail, and storm," says Rutherford, "in the saint's cloud." Were your earthy course strewed with flowers, and nothing but sunbeams played around your dwelling, it would lead you to forget your _nomadic_ life,--that you are but a sojourner here. The tent must at times be struck, pin by pin of the moveable tabernacle taken down, to enable you to say and to feel in the spirit of a pilgrim, "I desire a better country." Meantime, while sorrow is your portion, think of Him who says, "I know your sorrows." Angels cannot say so--they cannot sympathise with you, for trial is a strange word to them. But there is a mightier than they who _can_. All He sends you and appoints you is in love. There is a provision and condition wrapt up in the bosom of every affliction, "_if need be_;" coming from His hand, sorrows and riches are to His people convertible terms. If tempted to murmur at their trials, they are often murmuring at disguised mercies. "Why do you ask me," said Simeon, on his deathbed, "what I _like_? I am the Lord's patient--I cannot but like _everything_." And _then_--"your sorrow shall be turned into joy." "The morning cometh"--that bright morning when the dew-drops collected during earth's night of weeping shall sparkle in its beams; when in one blessed _moment_ a life-long experience of trial will be effaced and forgotten, or remembered only by contrast, to enhance the fulness of the joys of immortality. What a revelation of gladness! The map of time disclosed, and every little rill of sorrow, every river will be seen to have been flowing heavenwards,--every rough blast to have been sending the bark nearer the haven! In that joy, God Himself will participate. In the last "words of Jesus" to His people when they are standing by the triumphal archway of Glory, ready to enter on their thrones and crowns, He speaks of their joy as if it were all _His own_. "Enter ye into the joy _of your Lord_." Reader, may this joy be yours! Sit loose to the world's joys. Have a feeling of chastened gratitude and thankfulness when you have them; but beware of resting in them, or investing them with a permanency they cannot have. Jesus had his eye on _heaven_ when he added-- "YOUR JOY NO MAN TAKETH FROM YOU." 23D DAY. "Remember the words of the Lord Jesus, how He said"-- "Father, I will that they also whom thou hast given me, be with me where I am; that they may behold my glory."--John xvii. 24. The Omnipotent Prayer. This is not the petition of a suppliant, but the claim of a conqueror. There was only _one_ request He ever made, or ever _can_ make, that was refused; it was the prayer wrung forth by the presence and power of superhuman anguish: "Father, _if it be possible_, let this cup pass from me!" Had that prayer been answered, never could one consolatory "word of Jesus" have been ours. "_If it be possible_;"--_but_ for that gracious parenthesis, we must have been lost for ever! In unmurmuring submission, the bitter cup _was_ drained; all the dread penalties of the law were borne, the atonement completed, an all-perfect righteousness wrought out; and now, as the stipulated reward of His obedience and sufferings, the Victor claims His trophies. What are they? Those that were given Him of the Father--the countless multitudes redeemed by His blood. These He "_wills_" to be with Him "where He is"--the spectators of His glory, and partakers of His crown. Wondrous word and will of a dying testator! His last prayer on earth is an importunate pleading for their glorification; His parting wish is to meet them in heaven: as if these earthly jewels were needed to make His crown complete,--their happiness and joy the needful complement of His own! Reader! learn from this, the grand element in the bliss of your future condition--it is _the presence of Christ_; "_with Me_ where I am." It matters comparatively little as to the locality of heaven. "We shall see _Him_ as He is," is "the blessed hope" of the Christian. Heaven would be _no_ heaven without Jesus; the withdrawal of His presence would be like the blotting out of the sun from the firmament; it would uncrown every seraph, and unstring every harp. But, blessed thought! it is His own stipulation in His testamentary prayer, that Eternity is to be spent in union and communion with _Himself_, gazing on the unfathomed mysteries of His love, becoming more assimilated to His glorious image, and drinking deeper from the ocean of His own joy. If anything can enhance the magnitude of this promised bliss, it is the concluding words of the verse, in which He grounds His plea for its bestowment: "_I will_--that they behold my glory;"--why? "For Thou lovedst (not _them_, but) ME before the foundation of the world!" It is equivalent to saying, "If Thou wouldst give _Me_ a continued proof of Thine everlasting love and favour to Myself, it is by loving and exalting My redeemed people. In loving _them_ and glorifying them, Thou art loving and glorifying Me: so endearingly are their interests and My own bound up together!" Believer, think of that all-prevailing voice, at this moment pleading for thee within the veil!--that omnipotent "_Father, I will_," securing every needed boon! There is given, so to speak, a blank _cheque_ by which He and His people may draw indefinite supplies out of the exhaustless treasury of the Father's grace and love. God Himself endorses it with the words, "Son, Thou art ever with me, and all that I have is Thine." How it would reconcile us to Earth's bitterest sorrows, and hallow Earth's holiest joys, if we saw them thus hanging on the "_will_" of an all-wise Intercessor, who ever pleads in love, and never pleads in vain! "BE IT UNTO ME ACCORDING TO _THY WORD_." 24TH DAY. "Remember the words of the Lord Jesus, how He said"-- "Because I live, ye shall live also."--John xiv. 19. The Immutable Pledge. God sometimes selects the most stable and enduring objects in the material world to illustrate His unchanging faithfulness and love to His Church. "As the mountains are round about Jerusalem, so doth the Lord compass his people." But here, the Redeemer fetches an argument from _His own everlasting nature_. He stakes, so to speak, His own existence on that of His saints. "_Because I live_, ye shall live also." Believer! read in this "word of Jesus" thy glorious title-deed. _Thy Saviour lives_--and His life is the guarantee of thine own. Our true Joseph is alive. "He is our Brother. He talks kindly to us!" That life of His, is all that is between us and everlasting ruin. But with Christ for our life, how inviolable our security! The great Fountain of being must first be dried up, before the streamlet can. The great Sun must first be quenched, ere one glimmering satellite which He lights up with His splendour can. Satan must first pluck the crown from that glorified Head, before he can touch one jewel in the crown of His people. They cannot shake one pillar without shaking first the throne. "If we perish," says Luther, "Christ perisheth with us." Reader! is thy life now "hid with Christ in God?" Dost thou know the blessedness of a vital and living union with a living, life-giving Saviour? Canst thou say with humble and joyous confidence, amid the fitfulness of thine own ever-changing frames and feelings, "Nevertheless I live, yet not I, but Christ liveth in me?" "_Jesus liveth!_"--They are the happiest words a lost soul and a lost world can hear! Job, four thousand years ago, rejoiced in them. "I know," says he, "that I have _a living Kinsman_." John, in his Patmos exile, rejoiced in them. "I am He that liveth" (or _the Living One_), was the simple but sublime utterance with which he was addressed by that same "Kinsman," when He appeared arrayed in the lustres of His glorified humanity. "This is _the_ record" (as if there was a whole gospel comprised in the statement), "that God hath given to us eternal life, and this _life_ is in His Son." St. Paul, in the 8th chapter to the Romans--that finest portraiture of Christian character and privilege ever drawn, begins with "no condemnation," and ends with "no separation." Why "no separation?" Because the life of the believer is incorporated with that of his adorable Head and Surety. The colossal Heart of redeemed humanity beats upon the throne, sending its mighty pulsations through every member of His body; so that, before the believer's spiritual life can be destroyed, Omnipotence must become feebleness, and Immutability become mutable! But, blessed Jesus, "Thy word is very sure, therefore Thy servant loveth it." "I GIVE UNTO THEM ETERNAL LIFE, AND THEY SHALL NEVER PERISH, NEITHER SHALL ANY MAN PLUCK THEM OUT OF MY HAND." 25TH DAY. "Remember the words of the Lord Jesus, how He said"-- "Lo, I am with you alway, even unto the end of the world."--Matt. xxviii. 20. The Abiding Presence. Such were "the words of Jesus" when He was just about to ascend to Heaven. The mediatorial throne was in view--the harps of glory were sounding in His ears; but all His thoughts are on the pilgrim Church He is to leave behind. His last words and benedictions are for _them_. "I go," He seems to say, "to Heaven, to my purchased crown--to the fellowship of angels--to the presence of my Father; _but_, nevertheless, 'Lo! I am with _you_ alway, even unto the end of the world.'" How faithfully did the Apostles, to whom this promise was first addressed, experience its reality! Hear the testimony of the beloved disciple who had once leant on his Divine Master's bosom--who "had heard, and seen, and looked upon Him." That glorified bosom was now hid from his sight; but does he speak of an absent Lord, and of His fellowship only as among the holy memories of the past? No! with rejoicing emphasis he can exclaim--"Truly our fellowship IS with ... _Jesus Christ_." Amid so much that is fugitive here, how the heart clings to this assurance of the abiding presence of the Saviour! Our best earthly friends--a few weeks may estrange them;--centuries have rolled on--Christ is still the same. How blessed to think, that if I am indeed a child of God, there is not the lonely instant I am without His guardianship! When the beams of the morning visit my chamber, the brighter beams of a brighter Sun are shining upon me. When the shadows of evening are gathering around, "it is not night, if He, the unsetting 'Sun of my soul,' is near." His is no fitful companionship--present in prosperity, gone in adversity. He never changes. He is always the same,--in sickness and solitude, in joy and in sorrow, in life and in death. Not more faithfully did the pillar-cloud and column of fire of old precede Israel, till the last murmuring ripple of Jordan fell on their ears on the shores of Canaan, than does the presence and love of Jesus abide with His people. Has His word of promise ever proved false? Let the great cloud of witnesses now in glory testify. "Not one thing hath failed of all that the Lord our God hath spoken." _This_ "word of the Lord is tried"--"having loved His own, which were in the world, He loved them _unto the end_." Believer! art thou troubled and tempted? Do dark providences and severe afflictions seem to belie the truth and reality of this gracious assurance? Art thou ready, with Gideon, to say, "If the Lord be indeed with us, why has all this befallen us?" Be assured He has some faithful end in view. By the removal of prized and cherished earthly props and refuges, He would unfold more of his own tenderness. Amid the wreck and ruin of earthly joys, which, it may be, the grave has hidden from your sight, One nearer, dearer, tenderer still, would have you say of Himself, "_The Lord liveth_; and blessed be my Rock; and let the God of my salvation be exalted." "Thanks be to God, who _always_ maketh us to triumph in Christ." Yes! and never more so than when, stripped of all competing objects of creature affection, we are left, like the disciples on the mount, with "_Jesus only_!" "THESE THINGS HAVE I SPOKEN UNTO YOU, THAT IN ME YE MIGHT HAVE PEACE." 26TH DAY. "Remember the words of the Lord Jesus, how He said"-- "I am the resurrection and the life: he that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet he shall live."--John. xi. 25. The Resurrection and Life. What a voice is this breaking over a world which for six thousand years has been a dormitory of sin and death! For four thousand of these years, heathendom could descry no light through the bars of the grave; her oracles were dumb on the great doctrine of a future state, and more especially regarding the body's resurrection. Even the Jewish Church, under the Old Testament dispensation, seemed to enjoy little more than fitful and uncertain glimmerings, like men groping in the dark. It required death's great Abolisher to show, to a benighted world, the luminous "path of life." With Him rested the "bringing in of a better hope"--the unfolding of "the mystery which had been hid from ages and generations." Marvellous disclosure! that this mortal frame, decomposed and resolved into its original dust, shall yet start from its ashes, remodelled and reconstructed--"a glorified body!" Not like "the earthly tabernacle" (a mere shifting and moveable _tent_, as the word denotes), but incorruptible--immortal! The beauteous transformation of the insect from its chrysalis state--the buried seed springing up from its tiny grave to the full-eared corn or gorgeous flower--these are nature's mute utterances as to the possibility of this great truth, which required the unfoldings of "a more sure word of prophecy." But the Gospel has fully revealed what Reason, in her loftiest imaginings, could not have dreamt of. Jesus "hath brought life and immortality to light." He, the Bright and Morning Star, hath "turned the shadow of death into the morning." He gives, in His own resurrection, the earnest of that of His people;--He is the first-fruits of the immortal harvest yet to be gathered into the garner of Heaven. Precious truth! This "word of Jesus" spans like a celestial rainbow the entrance to the dark valley. Death is robbed of its sting. In the case of every child of God, the grave holds in custody precious, because redeemed, dust. Talk of it not, as being committed to a dishonoured tomb!--it is locked up, rather, in the casket, of God until the day "when He maketh up His jewels," when it will be fashioned in deathless beauty like unto the glorified body of the Redeemer. Angels, meanwhile, are commissioned to keep watch over it, till the trump of the archangel shall proclaim the great "Easter of creation." They are the "reapers," waiting for the world's great "Harvest Home," when Jesus Himself shall come again--not as He once did, humiliated and in sorrow, but rejoicing in the thought of bringing back all His sheaves with him. Afflicted and bereaved Christian!--thou who mayest be mourning in bitterness those who are not--rejoice through thy tears in these hopes "full of immortality." The silver cord is only "loosed," not broken. Perchance, as thou standest in the chamber of death, or by the brink of the grave,--in the depths of that awful solitude and silence which reigns around, this may be thy plaintive and mournful soliloquy--"Shall the dust praise Thee?" Yes, it _shall_! This very dust that hears now unheeded thy footsteps, and unmoved thy tears, shall through eternity praise its redeeming God--it shall proclaim His truth! "LORD, TO WHOM SHALL WE GO BUT UNTO THEE, THOU HAST THE _WORDS_ OF _ETERNAL LIFE_." 27TH DAY. "Remember the words of the Lord Jesus, how He said"-- "A little while, and ye shall not see me; and again, a little while, and ye shall see me, because I go to the Father."--John xvi. 16. The Little While. Long seem the moments when we are separated from the friend we love. An absent brother--how his return is looked and longed for! The "Elder Brother"--the "Living Kinsman"--sends a message to His waiting Church and people--a word of solace, telling that _soon_ ("a little while,") and He will be back again, never again to leave them. There are indeed blessed moments of communion which the believer enjoys with His beloved Lord _now_; but how fitful and transient! To-day, life is a brief Emmaus journey--the soul happy in the presence and love of an unseen Saviour. To-morrow, He is _gone_; and the bereft spirit is led to interrogate itself in plaintive sorrow,--"Where is now thy God?" Even when there is no such experience of darkness and depression, how much there is in the world around to fill the believer with sadness! His Lord rejected and disowned--His love set at nought--His providences slighted--His name blasphemed--His creation groaning and travailing in pain--disunion, too, among His people--His loving heart wounded in the house of His friends! But "yet a little while," and all this mystery of iniquity will be finished. The absent Brother's footfall will soon be heard,--no longer "as a wayfaring man who turneth aside to tarry for a night," but to receive His people into the permanent "mansions" His love has been preparing, and from which they shall go no more out. Oh, blessed day! when creation will put on her Easter robes--when her Lord, so long dishonoured, will be enthroned amid the hosannahs of a rejoicing universe--angels lauding Him--saints crowning Him--sin, the dark plague-spot on His universe, extinguished for ever--death swallowed up in eternal victory! And it is but "a little while!" "Yet a little while," we elsewhere read, "and He that shall come, will come, and will not tarry" (literally, "a little while as may be.") "He will stay not a moment longer," says Goodwin, "than He hath despatched all our business in Heaven for us." With what joy will He send His mission-Angel with the announcement, "the little while is at an end;" and to issue the invitation to the great festival of glory, "Come! for all things are ready!" Child of sorrow! think often of this "_little while_." "The days of thy mourning will soon be ended." There is a limit set to thy suffering time,--"After that ye have suffered a WHILE." Every wave is numbered between you and the haven; and then when that haven is reached, oh, what an apocalypse of glory!--the "little while" of time merged into the great and unending "while of eternity!"--to be _for ever with the Lord_--the same unchanged and unchanging Saviour! "A little while, and ye _shall_ see me!" Would that the eye of faith might be kept more intently fixed on "that glorious appearing!" How the world, with its guilty fascinations, tries to dim and obscure this blessed hope! How the heart is prone to throw out its fibres here, and get them rooted in some perishable object! Reader! seek to dwell more habitually on this the grand consummation of all thy dearest wishes. "Stand on the edge of your nest, pluming your wings for flight." Like the mother of Sisera, be looking for the expected chariot. "HE IS FAITHFUL THAT PROMISED." 28TH DAY. "Remember the words of the Lord Jesus, how He said"-- "Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God."--Matt. v. 8. The Beatific Vision. Here Is Heaven! This "word of Jesus" represents the future state of the glorified to consist not in locality, but in character; the essence of its bliss is the full vision and fruition of God. Our attention is called from all vague and indefinite theories about the _circumstantials_ of future happiness. The one grand object of contemplation--the "glory which excelleth," is _the sight of God Himself_! The one grand practical lesson enforced on His people, is the cultivation of that purity of heart without which none could _see_, or (even could we suppose it possible to be admitted to _see_ Him) none could _enjoy_ God! "The kingdom of Heaven cometh not with observation ... the kingdom of God is _within_ you." Reader, hast thou attained any of this heart-purity and heart-preparation? It has been beautifully said that "the openings of the streets of heaven are on earth." Even here we may enjoy, in the possession of holiness, some foretaste of coming bliss. Who has not felt that the happiest moments of their lives were those of close walking with God--nearness to the mercy-seat--when self was surrendered, and the eye was directed to the glory of Jesus, with most single, unwavering, undivided aim? What will Heaven be, but the entire surrender of the soul to Him, without any bias to evil, without the fear of corruption within echoing to temptation without; every thought brought into captivity to the obedience of Christ; no contrariety to His mind; all in blessed unison with His will; the whole _being_ impregnated with holiness--the intellect purified and ennobled, consecrating all its powers to His service--memory, a holy repository of pure and hallowed recollections--the affections, without one competing rival, purged from all the dross of earthliness--the love of God, the one supreme animating passion--the glory of God, the motive principle interfused through every thought, and feeling, and action of the life immortal; in one word, the heart a pellucid fountain; no sediment to dim its purity, "no angel of sorrow" to come and trouble the pool! The long night of life over, and _this_ the glory of the eternal morrow which succeeds it! "I shall be satisfied when I awake, with _Thy_ likeness." Yes, this is Heaven, subjectively and objectively--_purity of heart_ and "_God all in all_!" Much, doubtless, there may and will be of a subordinate kind, to intensify the bliss of the redeemed; communion with saints and angels; re-admission into the society of death-divided friends: but all these will fade before the great central glory, "God Himself shall be with them, and be their God; they shall _see his face_!" Believers have been aptly called _heliotropes_--turning their faces as the sunflower towards the Sun of Righteousness, and hanging their leaves in sadness and sorrow, when that Sun is away. It will be in heaven the emblem is complete. _There_, every flower in the heavenly garden will be turned Godwards, bathing its tints of loveliness in the glory that excelleth! Reader, may it be yours, when o'er-canopied by that cloudless sky, to know all the marvels contained in these few glowing words, "We shall be like Him, for we shall see him as He is." "AND EVERY MAN THAT HATH THIS HOPE IN HIM PURIFIETH HIMSELF EVEN AS HE IS PURE." 29TH DAY. "Remember the words of the Lord Jesus, how He said"-- "In my Father's house are many mansions."--John xiv. 2. The Many Mansions. What a home aspect there is in this "word of Jesus!" He comforts His Church by telling them that soon their wilderness-wanderings will be finished,--the tented tabernacle suited to their present probation-state exchanged for the enduring "mansion!" Nor will it be any strange dwelling: a _Father's_ home--a _Father's_ welcome awaits them. There will be accommodation for all. Thousands have already entered its shining gates,--patriarchs, prophets, saints, martyrs, young and old, and still there is room! The pilgrim's motto on earth is, "Here we have no continuing city." Even "Sabbath tents" must be struck. Holy seasons of communion must terminate. "Arise, let us go hence!" is a summons which disturbs the sweetest moments of tranquillity in the Church below; but _in Heaven_, every believer becomes a pillar in the temple of God, and "he shall _go no more out_." Here it is but the lodging of a wayfarer turning aside to tarry for the brief night of earth. Here we are but "tenants at will;" our possessions are but moveables--ours to-day, gone to-morrow. But these many "mansions" are an inheritance incorruptible and unfading. Nothing can touch the heavenly patrimony. Once within the Father's house, and we are in the house for ever! Think, too, of Jesus, gone to _prepare_ these mansions,--"I go to prepare a place for you." What a wondrous thought--Jesus now busied in Heaven in His Church's behalf! He can find no abode in all His wide dominions, befitting as a permanent dwelling for His ransomed ones. He says, "I will make new heavens and a new earth. I will found a special kingdom--I will rear eternal mansions expressly for those I have redeemed with my blood!" Reader, let the prospect of a dwelling in this "house of the Lord for ever," reconcile thee to any of the roughnesses or difficulties in thy present path--to thy pilgrim provision and pilgrim fare. Let the distant beacon-light, that so cheeringly speaks of a _Home_ brighter and better far than the happiest of earthly ones, lead thee to forget the intervening billows, or to think of them only as wafting thee nearer and nearer to thy desired haven! "Would," says a saint, who has now entered on his rest, "that one could read, and write, and pray, and eat and drink, and compose one's self to sleep, as with the thought,--soon to be in heaven, and that for ever and ever!" "My Father's house!" How many a departing spirit has been cheered and consoled by the sight of these glorious Mansions looming through the mists of the dark valley,--the tears of weeping friends rebuked by the gentle chiding--"If ye loved me, ye would rejoice, because I said, I go unto _my Father_!" Death truly is but the entrance to this our Father's house. We speak of the "_shadow of death_"--it is only the shadow which falls on the portico as we stand for a moment knocking at the longed-for gate--the next! a Father's voice of welcome is heard-- "SON! THOU ART EVER WITH ME, AND ALL THAT I HAVE IS THINE." 30TH DAY. "Remember the words of the Lord Jesus, how He said"-- "I will come again, and receive you unto myself; that where I am, there ye may be also."--John xiv. 3. The Promised Return. Another "word of promise" concerning the Church's "blessed hope." Orphaned pilgrims, dry your tears! Soon the Morning Hour will strike, and the sighs of a groaning and burdened creation be heard no more. Earth's six thousand years of toil and sorrow are waning; the Millennial Sabbath is at hand. Jesus will soon be heard to repeat concerning all his sleeping saints, what He said of old regarding one of them: "I go to awake them out of sleep!" Your beloved Lord's first coming was in humiliation and woe; His name was--the "Man of Sorrows;" He had to travel on, amid darkness and desertion, His blood-stained path; a chaplet of thorns was the only crown He bore. But soon He will come "the second time without a sin-offering unto salvation," never again to leave His Church, but to receive those who followed Him in His cross, to be everlasting partakers with Him in His crown. He may seem to tarry. External nature, in her unvarying and undeviating sequences, gives no indication of His approach. Centuries have elapsed since He uttered the promise, and still He lingers; the everlasting hills wear no streak of approaching dawn; we seem to listen in vain for the noise of His chariot wheels. "But the Lord is not slack concerning His promise;" He gives you "this word" in addition to many others as a _keepsake_--a pledge and guarantee for the certainty of His return,--"_I will come again._" Who can conceive all the surpassing blessedness connected with that advent? The Elder Brother arrived to fetch the younger brethren home!--the true Joseph revealing Himself in unutterable tenderness to the brethren who were once estranged from Him--"receiving them unto himself"--not satisfied with apportioning a kingdom for them, but, as if all His own joy and bliss were intermingled with theirs, "Where _I am_," says He, "there _you_ must be also." "Him that overcometh," says He again, "will I grant to sit with Me on My Throne." Believer, can you _now_ say with some of the holy transport of the apostle, "Whom having not seen, we love?" What must it be when you come to see Him "face to face," and that for ever and ever! If you can tell of precious hours of communion in a sin-stricken, woe-worn world, with a treacherous heart, and an imperfect or divided love, what must it be when you come, in a sinless, sorrowless state, with purified and renewed affections, to see the King in His beauty! The letter of an absent brother, cheering and consolatory as it is, is a poor compensation for the joys of personal and visible communion. The absent Elder Brother on the Throne speaks to you _now_ only by His Word and Spirit,--soon you shall be admitted to His immediate fellowship, seeing him "as He is"--He Himself unfolding the wondrous chart of His providence and grace--leading you about from fountain to fountain among the living waters, and with his own gentle hand wiping the last lingering tear-drop from your eye. _Heaven an everlasting home with Jesus!_ "Where I am, there ye may be also."--He has appended a cheering postscript to this word, on which He has "caused us to hope:"-- "HE WHICH TESTIFIETH THESE THINGS SAITH, SURELY I COME QUICKLY." 31ST DAY. "Remember the words of the Lord Jesus, how He said"-- "Blessed are those servants whom the Lord when He cometh shall find watching."--Luke xii. 37. The Closing Benediction. Child of God! is this thine attitude, as the expectant of thy Lord's appearing? Are thy loins girded, and thy lights burning? If the cry were to break upon thine ears this day, "Behold the Bridegroom cometh," couldst thou joyfully respond--"Lo, this is my God, I have waited for him?" WHEN He may come, we cannot tell;--ages may elapse before _then_. It may be centuries before our graves are gilded with the beams of a Millennial sun; but while He _may_ or may _not_ come _soon_, He _must_ come at some time--ay, and the day of our death is virtually to all of us the day of His coming. Reader! put not off the solemn preparation. Be not deceived or deluded with the mocker's presumptuous challenge, "Where is the promise of His coming?" See to it that the calls of an engrossing world without, do not foster this procrastinating spirit within. It may be now or never with thee. Put not off thy sowing time till harvest time. Leave nothing for a dying hour, _but to die_, and calmly to resign thy spirit into the hands of Jesus. Of all times, _that_ is the least suitable to have the vessel plenished--to attend to the great business of life when life is ebbing--to trim the lamp when the oil is done and it is flickering in its socket--to begin to watch, when the summons is heard to leave the watch-tower to meet our God! Were you never struck how often, amid the many _gentle_ words of Jesus, the summons "to watch," is over and over repeated, like a succession of alarum-bells breaking ever and anon, amid chimes of heavenly music, to rouse a sleeping Church and a slumbering world? Let this last "word" of thy Lord's send thee to thy knees with the question,--"Am I indeed a servant of Christ?" Have I fled to Him, and am I reposing in Him, as my only Saviour?--or am I still lingering, like Lot, when I should be escaping--sleeping, when I should be waking--neglecting and trifling, when "a long eternity is lying at my door?" He is my last and only refuge; neglect Him--_all is lost_! Believer! thou who art standing on thy watch-tower, be more faithful than ever at thy post. Remember what is implied in watching. It is no dreamy state of inactive torpor: it is a holy jealousy over the heart--wakeful vigilance regarding sin--every avenue and loophole of the soul carefully guarded. _Holy living_ is the best, the _only_, preparative for _holy dying_. "Persuade yourself," says Rutherford, "the King is coming. Read His letter sent before Him, 'Behold I come quickly;' wait with the wearied night-watch for the breaking of the Eastern sky." Let these "_Words of Jesus_" we have now been meditating upon in this little volume, be as the Golden Bells of old, hung on the vestments of the officiating High Priest, emitting sweet sounds to His spiritual Israel--telling that the _true High Priest_ is still living and pleading in "the Holiest of all;" and that soon He will come forth to pour His blessing on His waiting Church. We have been pleasingly employed in gathering up a few "crumbs" falling from "the Master's table." Soon we shall have, not the "_Words_" but the _presence_ of Jesus--not the crumbs falling from His table, but everlasting fellowship with the Master Himself. "AMEN, EVEN SO, COME LORD JESUS." "Wherefore Comfort One Another with THESE WORDS." 1 THESS. iv. 18. 
29288	----	THE UNKNOWN LIFE OF JESUS CHRIST The Original Text of Nicolas Notovitch's 1887 Discovery by NICOLAS NOTOVITCH Translated by J. H. Connelly and L. Landsberg Printed in the United States of America New York: R.F. Fenno. 1890. Table of Contents _Preface_ vi _A Journey in Thibet_ 1 _Ladak_ 33 _A Festival in a Gonpa_ 45 _The Life of Saint Issa_ 61 _Resumé_ 89 _Explanatory Notes_ 117 Preface After the Turkish War (1877-1878) I made a series of travels in the Orient. From the little remarkable Balkan peninsula, I went across the Caucasus to Central Asia and Persia, and finally, in 1887, visited India, an admirable country which had attracted me from my earliest childhood. My purpose in this journey was to study and know, at home, the peoples who inhabit India and their customs, the grand and mysterious archæology, and the colossal and majestic nature of their country. Wandering about without fixed plans, from one place to another, I came to mountainous Afghanistan, whence I regained India by way of the picturesque passes of Bolan and Guernaï. Then, going up the Indus to Raval Pindi, I ran over the Pendjab--the land of the five rivers; visited the Golden Temple of Amritsa--the tomb of the King of Pendjab, Randjid Singh, near Lahore; and turned toward Kachmyr, "The Valley of Eternal Bliss." Thence I directed my peregrinations as my curiosity impelled me, until I arrived in Ladak, whence I intended returning to Russia by way of Karakoroum and Chinese Turkestan. One day, while visiting a Buddhist convent on my route, I learned from a chief lama, that there existed in the archives of Lhassa, very ancient memoirs relating to the life of Jesus Christ and the occidental nations, and that certain great monasteries possessed old copies and translations of those chronicles. As it was little probable that I should make another journey into this country, I resolved to put off my return to Europe until a later date, and, cost what it might, either find those copies in the great convents or go to Lhassa--a journey which is far from being so dangerous and difficult as is generally supposed, involving only such perils as I was already accustomed to, and which would not make me hesitate at attempting it. During my sojourn at Leh, capital of Ladak, I visited the great convent Himis, situated near the city, the chief lama of which informed me that their monastic library contained copies of the manuscripts in question. In order that I might not awaken the suspicions of the authorities concerning the object of my visit to the cloister, and to evade obstacles which might be opposed to me as a Russian, prosecuting further my journey in Thibet, I gave out upon my return to Leh that I would depart for India, and so left the capital of Ladak. An unfortunate fall, causing the breaking of a leg, furnished me with an absolutely unexpected pretext for returning to the monastery, where I received surgical attention. I took advantage of my short sojourn among the lamas to obtain the consent of their chief that they should bring to me, from their library, the manuscripts relating to Jesus Christ, and, assisted by my interpreter, who translated for me the Thibetan language, transferred carefully to my notebook what the lama read to me. Not doubting at all the authenticity of this chronicle, edited with great exactitude by the Brahminic, and more especially the Buddhistic historians of India and Nepaul, I desired, upon my return to Europe, to publish a translation of it. To this end, I addressed myself to several universally known ecclesiastics, asking them to revise my notes and tell me what they thought of them. Mgr. Platon, the celebrated metropolitan of Kiew, thought that my discovery was of great importance. Nevertheless, he sought to dissuade me from publishing the memoirs, believing that their publication could only hurt me. "Why?" This the venerable prelate refused to tell me more explicitly. Nevertheless, since our conversation took place in Russia, where the censor would have put his veto upon such a work, I made up my mind to wait. A year later, I found myself in Rome. I showed my manuscript to a cardinal very near to the Holy Father, who answered me literally in these words:--"What good will it do to print this? Nobody will attach to it any great importance and you will create a number of enemies. But, you are still very young! If it is a question of money which concerns you, I can ask for you a reward for your notes, a sum which will repay your expenditures and recompense you for your loss of time." Of course, I refused. In Paris I spoke of my project to Cardinal Rotelli, whose acquaintance I had made in Constantinople. He, too, was opposed to having my work printed, under the pretext that it would be premature. "The church," he added, "suffers already too much from the new current of atheistic ideas, and you will but give a new food to the calumniators and detractors of the evangelical doctrine. I tell you this in the interest of all the Christian churches." Then I went to see M. Jules Simon. He found my matter very interesting and advised me to ask the opinion of M. Renan, as to the best way of publishing these memoirs. The next day I was seated in the cabinet of the great philosopher. At the close of our conversation, M. Renan proposed that I should confide to him the memoirs in question, so that he might make to the Academy a report upon the discovery. This proposition, as may be easily understood, was very alluring and flattering to my _amour propre_. I, however, took away with me the manuscript, under the pretext of further revising it. I foresaw that if I accepted the proposed combination, I would only have the honor of having found the chronicles, while the illustrious author of the "Life of Jesus" would have the glory of the publication and the commenting upon it. I thought myself sufficiently prepared to publish the translation of the chronicles, accompanying them with my notes, and, therefore, did not accept the very gracious offer he made to me. But, that I might not wound the susceptibility of the great master, for whom I felt a profound respect, I made up my mind to delay publication until after his death, a fatality which could not be far off, if I might judge from the apparent general weakness of M. Renan. A short time after M. Renan's death, I wrote to M. Jules Simon again for his advice. He answered me, that it was my affair to judge of the opportunity for making the memoirs public. I therefore put my notes in order and now publish them, reserving the right to substantiate the authenticity of these chronicles. In my commentaries I proffer the arguments which must convince us of the sincerity and good faith of the Buddhist compilers. I wish to add that before criticising my communication, the societies of _savans_ can, without much expense, equip a scientific expedition having for its mission the study of those manuscripts in the place where I discovered them, and so may easily verify their historic value. --_Nicolas Notovitch_ The Unknown Life of Jesus Christ _A Journey in Thibet_ During my sojourn in India, I often had occasion to converse with the Buddhists, and the accounts they gave me of Thibet excited my curiosity to such an extent that I resolved to make a journey into that still almost unknown country. For this purpose I set out upon a route crossing Kachmyr (Cashmere), which I had long intended to visit. On the 14th of October, 1887, I entered a railway car crowded with soldiers, and went from Lahore to Raval-Pinidi, where I arrived the next day, near noon. After resting a little and inspecting the city, to which the permanent garrison gives the aspect of a military camp, I provided myself with the necessaries for a journey, where horses take the place of the railway cars. Assisted by my servant, a colored man of Pondichery, I packed all my baggage, hired a tonga (a two-wheeled vehicle which is drawn by two horses), stowed myself upon its back seat, and set out upon the picturesque road leading to Kachmyr, an excellent highway, upon which we travelled rapidly. We had to use no little skill in making our way through the ranks of a military caravan--its baggage carried upon camels--which was part of a detachment returning from a country camp to the city. Soon we arrived at the end of the valley of Pendjab, and climbing up a way with infinite windings, entered the passes of the Himalayas. The ascent became more and more steep. Behind us spread, like a beautiful panorama, the region we had just traversed, which seemed to sink farther and farther away from us. As the sun's last glances rested upon the tops of the mountains, our tonga came gaily out from the zigzags which the eye could still trace far down the forest-clad slope, and halted at the little city of Muré; where the families of the English functionaries came to seek shade and refreshment. Ordinarily, one can go in a tonga from Muré to Srinagar; but at the approach of the winter season, when all Europeans desert Kachmyr, the tonga service is suspended. I undertook my journey precisely at the time when the summer life begins to wane, and the Englishmen whom I met upon the road, returning to India, were much astonished to see me, and made vain efforts to divine the purpose of my travel to Kachmyr. Abandoning the tonga, I hired saddle horses--not without considerable difficulty--and evening had arrived when we started to descend from Muré, which is at an altitude of 5,000 feet. This stage of our journey had nothing playful in it. The road was torn in deep ruts by the late rains, darkness came upon us and our horses rather guessed than saw their way. When night had completely set in, a tempestuous rain surprised us in the open country, and, owing to the thick foliage of the centenarian oaks which stood on the sides of our road, we were plunged in profound darkness. That we might not lose each other, we had to continue exchanging calls from time to time. In this impenetrable obscurity we divined huge masses of rock almost above our heads, and were conscious of, on our left, a roaring torrent, the water of which formed a cascade we could not see. During two hours we waded in the mud and the icy rain had chilled my very marrow, when we perceived in the distance a little fire, the sight of which revived our energies. But how deceitful are lights in the mountains! You believe you see the fire burning quite near to you and at once it disappears, to reappear again, to the right, to the left, above, below you, as if it took pleasure in playing tricks upon the harassed traveller. All the time the road makes a thousand turns, and winds here and there, and the fire--which is immovable--seems to be in continual motion, the obscurity preventing you realizing that you yourself modify your direction every instant. I had quite given up all hope of approaching this much-wished-for fire, when it appeared again, and this time so near that our horses stopped before it. I have here to express my sincere thanks to the Englishmen for the foresight of which they gave proof in building by the roadsides the little bengalows--one-story houses for the shelter of travellers. It is true, one must not demand comfort in this kind of hotel; but this is a matter in which the traveller, broken down by fatigue, is not exacting, and he is at the summit of happiness when he finds at his disposal a clean and dry room. The Hindus, no doubt, did not expect to see a traveller arrive at so late an hour of the night and in this season, for they had taken away the keys of the bengalow, so we had to force an entrance. I threw myself upon a bed prepared for me, composed of a pillow and blanket saturated with water, and almost at once fell asleep. At daybreak, after taking tea and some conserves, we took up our march again, now bathed in the burning rays of the sun. From time to time, we passed villages; the first in a superb narrow pass, then along the road meandering in the bosom of the mountain. We descended eventually to the river Djeloum (Jhelum), the waters of which flow gracefully, amid the rocks by which its course is obstructed, between rocky walls whose tops in many places seem almost to reach the azure skies of the Himalayas, a heaven which here shows itself remarkably pure and serene. Toward noon we arrived at the hamlet called Tongue--situated on the bank of the river--which presents an unique array of huts that give the effect of boxes, the openings of which form a façade. Here are sold comestibles and all kinds of merchandise. The place swarms with Hindus, who bear on their foreheads the variously colored marks of their respective castes. Here, too, you see the beautiful people of Kachmyr, dressed in their long white shirts and snowy turbans. I hired here, at a good price, a Hindu cabriolet, from a Kachmyrian. This vehicle is so constructed that in order to keep one's seat in it, one must cross his legs in the Turkish fashion. The seat is so small that it will hold, at most, only two persons. The absence of any support for the back makes this mode of transportation very dangerous; nevertheless, I accepted this kind of circular table mounted on two wheels and drawn by a horse, as I was anxious to reach, as soon as possible, the end of my journey. Hardly, however, had I gone five hundred yards on it, when I seriously regretted the horse I had forsaken, so much fatigue had I to endure keeping my legs crossed and maintaining my equilibrium. Unfortunately, it was already too late. Evening was falling when I approached the village of Hori. Exhausted by fatigue; racked by the incessant jolting; my legs feeling as if invaded by millions of ants, I had been completely incapable of enjoying the picturesque landscape spread before us as we journeyed along the Djeloum, the banks of which are bordered on one side by steep rocks and on the other by the heavily wooded slopes of the mountains. In Hori I encountered a caravan of pilgrims returning from Mecca. Thinking I was a physician and learning my haste to reach Ladak, they invited me to join them, which I promised I would at Srinagar. I spent an ill night, sitting up in my bed, with a lighted torch in my hand, without closing my eyes, in constant fear of the stings and bites of the scorpions and centipedes which swarm in the bengalows. I was sometimes ashamed of the fear with which those vermin inspired me; nevertheless, I could not fall asleep among them. Where, truly, in man, is the line that separates courage from cowardice? I will not boast of my bravery, but I am not a coward, yet the insurmountable fear with which those malevolent little creatures thrilled me, drove sleep from my eyelids, in spite of my extreme fatigue. Our horses carried us into a flat valley, encircled by high mountains. Bathed as I was in the rays of the sun, it did not take me long to fall asleep in the saddle. A sudden sense of freshness penetrated and awoke me. I saw that we had already begun climbing a mountain path, in the midst of a dense forest, rifts in which occasionally opened to our admiring gaze ravishing vistas, impetuous torrents; distant mountains; cloudless heavens; a landscape, far below, of wondrous beauty. All about us were the songs of numberless brilliantly plumaged birds. We came out of the forest toward noon, descended to a little hamlet on the bank of the river, and after refreshing ourselves with a light, cold collation, continued our journey. Before starting, I went to a bazaar and tried to buy there a glass of warm milk from a Hindu, who was sitting crouched before a large cauldron full of boiling milk. How great was my surprise when he proposed to me that I should take away the whole cauldron, with its contents, assuring me that I had polluted the milk it contained! "I only want a glass of milk and not a kettle of it," I said to him. "According to our laws," the merchant answered me, "if any one not belonging to our caste has fixed his eyes for a long time upon one of our cooking utensils, we have to wash that article thoroughly, and throw away the food it contains. You have polluted my milk and no one will drink any more of it, for not only were you not contented with fixing your eyes upon it, but you have even pointed to it with your finger." I had indeed a long time examined his merchandise, to make sure that it was really milk, and had pointed with my finger, to the merchant, from which side I wished the milk poured out. Full of respect for the laws and customs of foreign peoples, I paid, without dispute, a rupee, the price of all the milk, which was poured in the street, though I had taken only one glass of it. This was a lesson which taught me, from now on, not to fix my eyes upon the food of the Hindus. There is no religious belief more muddled by the numbers of ceremonious laws and commentaries prescribing its observances than the Brahminic. While each of the other principal religions has but one inspired book, one Bible, one Gospel, or one Koran--books from which the Hebrew, the Christian and the Musselman draw their creeds--the Brahminical Hindus possess such a great number of tomes and commentaries in folio that the wisest Brahmin has hardly had the time to peruse one-tenth of them. Leaving aside the four books of the Vedas; the Puranas--which are written in Sanscrit and composed of eighteen volumes--containing 400,000 strophes treating of law, rights, theogony, medicine, the creation and destruction of the world, etc.; the vast Shastras, which deal with mathematics, grammar, etc.; the Upa-Vedas, Upanishads, Upo-Puranas--which are explanatory of the Puranas;--and a number of other commentaries in several volumes; there still remain twelve vast books, containing the laws of Manu, the grandchild of Brahma--books dealing not only with civil and criminal law, but also the canonical rules--rules which impose upon the faithful such a considerable number of ceremonies that one is surprised into admiration of the illimitable patience the Hindus show in observance of the precepts inculcated by Saint Manu. Manu was incontestably a great legislator and a great thinker, but he has written so much that it has happened to him frequently to contradict himself in the course of a single page. The Brahmins do not take the trouble to notice that, and the poor Hindus, whose labor supports the Brahminic caste, obey servilely their clergy, whose prescriptions enjoin upon them never to touch a man who does not belong to their caste, and also absolutely prohibit a stranger from fixing his attention upon anything belonging to a Hindu. Keeping himself to the strict letter of this law, the Hindu imagines that his food is polluted when it receives a little protracted notice from the stranger. And yet, Brahminism has been, even at the beginning of its second birth, a purely monotheistic religion, recognizing only one infinite and indivisible God. As it came to pass in all times and in religions, the clergy took advantage of the privileged situation which places them above the ignorant multitude, and early manufactured various exterior forms of cult and certain laws, thinking they could better, in this way, influence and control the masses. Things changed soon, so far that the principle of monotheism, of which the Vedas have given such a clear conception, became confounded with, or, as it were, supplanted by an absurd and limitless series of gods and goddesses, half-gods, genii and devils, which were represented by idols, of infinite variety but all equally horrible looking. The people, once glorious as their religion was once great and pure, now slip by degrees into complete idiocy. Hardly does their day suffice for the accomplishment of all the prescriptions of their canons. It must be said positively that the Hindus only exist to support their principal caste, the Brahmins, who have taken into their hands the temporal power which once was possessed by independent sovereigns of the people. While governing India, the Englishman does not interfere with this phase of the public life, and so the Brahmins profit by maintaining the people's hope of a better future. The sun passed behind the summit of a mountain, and the darkness of night in one moment overspread the magnificent landscape we were traversing. Soon the narrow valley of the Djeloum fell asleep. Our road winding along ledges of steep rocks, was instantly hidden from our sight; mountains and trees were confounded together in one dark mass, and the stars glittered in the celestial vault. We had to dismount and feel our way along the mountain side, for fear of becoming the prey of the abyss which yawned at our feet. At a late hour of the night we traversed a bridge and ascended a steep elevation leading to the bengalow Ouri, which at this height seems to enjoy complete isolation. The next day we traversed a charming region, always going along the river--at a turn of which we saw the ruins of a Sikh fortress, that seemed to remember sadly its glorious past. In a little valley, nestled amid the mountains, we found a bengalow which seemed to welcome us. In its proximity were encamped a cavalry regiment of the Maharajah of Kachmyr. When the officers learned that I was a Russian, they invited me to share their repast. There I had the pleasure of making the acquaintance of Col. Brown, who was the first to compile a dictionary of the Afghan-pouchton language. As I was anxious to reach, as soon as possible, the city of Srinagar, I, with little delay, continued my journey through the picturesque region lying at the foot of the mountains, after having, for a long time, followed the course of the river. Here, before our eyes, weary of the monotonous desolation of the preceding landscapes, was unfolded a charming view of a well-peopled valley, with many two-story houses surrounded by gardens and cultivated fields. A little farther on begins the celebrated valley of Kachmyr, situated behind a range of high rocks which I crossed toward evening. What a superb panorama revealed itself before my eyes, when I found myself at the last rock which separates the valley of Kachmyr from the mountainous country I had traversed. A ravishing tableau truly enchanted my sight. This valley, the limits of which are lost in the horizon, and is throughout well populated, is enshrined amid the high Himalayan mountains. At the rising and the setting of the sun, the zone of eternal snows seems a silver ring, which like a girdle surrounds this rich and delightful plateau, furrowed by numerous rivers and traversed by excellent roads, gardens, hills, a lake, the islands in which are occupied by constructions of pretentious style, all these cause the traveller to feel as if he had entered another world. It seems to him as though he had to go but a little farther on and there must find the Paradise of which his governess had told him so often in his childhood. The veil of night slowly covered the valley, merging mountains, gardens and lake in one dark amplitude, pierced here and there by distant fires, resembling stars. I descended into the valley, directing myself toward the Djeloum, which has broken its way through a narrow gorge in the mountains, to unite itself with the waters of the river Ind. According to the legend, the valley was once an inland sea; a passage opened through the rocks environing it, and drained the waters away, leaving nothing more of its former character than the lake, the Djeloum and minor water-courses. The banks of the river are now lined with boat-houses, long and narrow, which the proprietors, with their families, inhabit the whole year. From here Srinagar can be reached in one day's travel on horseback; but with a boat the journey requires a day and a half. I chose the latter mode of conveyance, and having selected a boat and bargained with its proprietor for its hire, took my seat in the bow, upon a carpet, sheltered by a sort of penthouse roof. The boat left the shore at midnight, bearing us rapidly toward Srinagar. At the stern of the bark, a Hindu prepared my tea. I went to sleep, happy in knowing my voyage was to be accomplished. The hot caress of the sun's rays penetrating my little roof awakened me, and what I experienced delighted me beyond all expression. Entirely green banks; the distant outlines of mountain tops covered with snow; pretty villages which from time to time showed themselves at the mountain's foot; the crystalline sheet of water; pure and peculiarly agreeable air, which I breathed with exhilaration; the musical carols of an infinity of birds; a sky of extraordinary purity; behind me the plash of water stirred by the round-ended paddle which was wielded with ease by a superb woman (with marvellous eyes and a complexion browned by the sun), who wore an air of stately indifference: all these things together seemed to plunge me into an ecstasy, and I forgot entirely the reason for my presence on the river. In that moment I had not even a desire to reach the end of my voyage--and yet, how many privations remained for me to undergo, and dangers to encounter! I felt myself here so well content! The boat glided rapidly and the landscape continued to unfold new beauties before my eyes, losing itself in ever new combinations with the horizon, which merged into the mountains we were passing, to become one with them. Then a new panorama would display itself, seeming to expand and flow out from the sides of the mountains, becoming more and more grand.... The day was almost spent and I was not yet weary of contemplating this magnificent nature, the view of which reawakened the souvenirs of childhood and youth. How beautiful were those days forever gone! The more nearly one approaches Srinagar, the more numerous become the villages embowered in the verdure. At the approach of our boat, some of their inhabitants came running to see us; the men in their turbans, the women in their small bonnets, both alike dressed in white gowns reaching to the ground, the children in a state of nudity which reminded one of the costumes of our first parents. When entering the city one sees a range of barks and floating houses in which entire families reside. The tops of the far-off, snow-covered mountains were caressed by the last rays of the setting sun, when we glided between the wooden houses of Srinagar, which closely line both banks of the river. Life seems to cease here at sunset; the thousands of many colored open boats (dunga) and palanquin-covered barks (bangla) were fastened along the beach; men and women gathered near the river, in the primitive costumes of Adam and Eve, going through their evening ablutions without feeling any embarrassment or prudery before each other, since they performed a religious rite, the importance of which is greater for them than all human prejudices. On the 20^th of October I awoke in a neat room, from which I had a gay view upon the river that was now inundated with the rays of the sun of Kachmyr. As it is not my purpose to describe here my experiences in detail, I refrain from enumerating the lovely valleys, the paradise of lakes, the enchanting islands, those historic places, mysterious pagodas, and coquettish villages which seem lost in vast gardens; on all sides of which rise the majestic tops of the giants of the Himalaya, shrouded as far as the eye can see in eternal snow. I shall only note the preparations I made in view of my journey toward Thibet. I spent six days at Srinagar, making long excursions into the enchanting surroundings of the city, examining the numerous ruins which testify to the ancient prosperity of this region, and studying the strange customs of the country. * * * * * Kachmyr, as well as the other provinces attached to it, Baltistan, Ladak, etc., are vassals of England. They formerly formed part of the possessions of Randjid Sing, the Lion of the Pendjab. At his death, the English troops occupied Lahore, the capital of the Pendjab, separated Kachmyr from the rest of the empire and ceded it, under color of hereditary right, and for the sum of 160,000,000 francs, to Goulab-Sing, one of the familiars of the late sovereign, conferring on him besides the title of Maharadja. At the epoch of my journey, the actual Maharadja was Pertab-Sing, the grandchild of Goulab, whose residence is Jamoo, on the southern slope of the Himalaya. The celebrated "happy valley" of Kachmyr (eighty-five miles long by twenty-five miles wide) enjoyed glory and prosperity only under the Grand Mogul, whose court loved to taste here the sweetness of country life, in the still existent pavilions on the little island of the lake. Most of the Maharadjas of Hindustan used formerly to spend here the summer months, and to take part in the magnificent festivals given by the Grand Mogul; but times have greatly changed since, and the happy valley is today no more than a beggar retreat. Aquatic plants and scum have covered the clear waters of the lake; the wild juniper has smothered all the vegetation of the islands; the palaces and pavilions retain only the souvenir of their past grandeur; earth and grass cover the buildings which are now falling in ruins. The surrounding mountains and their eternally white tops seem to be absorbed in a sullen sadness, and to nourish the hope of a better time for the disclosure of their immortal beauties. The once spiritual, beautiful and cleanly inhabitants have grown animalistic and stupid; they have become dirty and lazy; and the whip now governs them, instead of the sword. The people of Kachmyr have so often been subject to invasions and pillages and have had so many masters, that they have now become indifferent to every thing. They pass their time near the banks of the rivers, gossiping about their neighbors; or are engaged in the painstaking work of making their celebrated shawls; or in the execution of filagree gold or silver work. The Kachmyr women are of a melancholy temperament, and an inconceivable sadness is spread upon their features. Everywhere reigns misery and uncleanness. The beautiful men and superb women of Kachmyr are dirty and in rags. The costume of the two sexes consists, winter and summer alike, of a long shirt, or gown, made of thick material and with puffed sleeves. They wear this shirt until it is completely worn out, and never is it washed, so that the white turban of the men looks like dazzling snow near their dirty shirts, which are covered all over with spittle and grease stains. The traveller feels himself permeated with sadness at seeing the contrast between the rich and opulent nature surrounding them, and this people dressed in rags. The capital of the country, Srinagar (City of the Sun), or, to call it by the name which is given to it here after the country, Kachmyr, is situated on the shore of the Djeloum, along which it stretches out toward the south to a distance of five kilometres and is not more than two kilometres in breadth. Its two-story houses, inhabited by a population of 100,000 inhabitants, are built of wood and border both river banks. Everybody lives on the river, the shores of which are united by ten bridges. Terraces lead from the houses to the Djeloum, where all day long people perform their ceremonial ablutions, bathe and wash their culinary utensils, which consist of a few copper pots. Part of the inhabitants practice the Musselman religion; two-thirds are Brahminic; and there are but few Buddhists to be found among them. It was time to make other preparations for travel before plunging into the unknown. Having purchased different kinds of conserves, wine and other things indispensable on a journey through a country so little peopled as is Thibet, I packed all my baggage in boxes; hired six carriers and an interpreter, bought a horse for my own use, and fixed my departure for the 27^th of October. To cheer up my journey, I took from a good Frenchman, M. Peicheau, the wine cultivator of the Maharadja, a big dog, Pamir, who had already traversed the road with my friends, Bonvallot, Capus and Pepin, the well-known explorers. As I wished to shorten my journey by two days, I ordered my carriers to leave at dawn from the other side of the lake, which I crossed in a boat, and joined them and my horse at the foot of the mountain chain which separates the valley of Srinagar from the Sind gorge. I shall never forget the tortures which we had to undergo in climbing almost on all fours to a mountain top, three thousand feet high. The carriers were out of breath; every moment I feared to see one tumble down the declivity with his burden, and I felt pained at seeing my poor dog, Pamir, panting and with his tongue hanging out, make two or three steps and fall to the ground exhausted. Forgetting my own fatigue, I caressed and encouraged the poor animal, who, as if understanding me, got up to make another two or three steps and fall anew to the ground. The night had come when we reached the crest; we threw ourselves greedily upon the snow to quench our thirst; and after a short rest, started to descend through a very thick pine forest, hastening to gain the village of Haïena, at the foot of the defile, fearing the attacks of beasts of prey in the darkness. A level and good road leads from Srinagar to Haïena, going straight northward over Ganderbal, where I repaired by a more direct route across a pass three thousand feet high, which shortened for me both time and distance. My first step in the unknown was marked by an incident which made all of us pass an ugly quarter of an hour. The defile of the Sind, sixty miles long, is especially noteworthy for the inhospitable hosts it contains. Among others it abounds in panthers, tigers, leopards, black bears, wolves and jackals. As though by a special misfortune, the snow had covered with its white carpet the heights of the chain, compelling those formidable, carnivorous beasts to descend a little lower for shelter in their dens. We descended in silence, amid the darkness, a narrow path that wound through the centennary firs and birches, and the calm of the night was only broken by the crackling sound of our steps. Suddenly, quite near to us, a terrible howling awoke the echoes of the woods. Our small troop stopped. "A panther!" exclaimed, in a low and frightened voice, my servant. The small caravan of a dozen men stood motionless, as though riveted to the spot. Then it occurred to me that at the moment of starting on our ascent, when already feeling fatigued, I had entrusted my revolver to one of the carriers, and my Winchester rifle to another. Now I felt bitter regret for having parted with my arms, and asked in a low voice where the man was to whom I had given the rifle. The howls became more and more violent, and filled the echoes of the woods, when suddenly a dull sound was heard, like the fall of some body. A minute later we heard the noise of a struggle and a cry of agony which mingled with the fierce roars of the starved animal. "Saaïb, take the gun," I heard some one near by. I seized feverishly the rifle, but, vain trouble, one could not see two steps before oneself. A new cry, followed by a smothered howling, indicated to me vaguely the place of the struggle, toward which I crawled, divided between the ardent desire to "kill a panther" and a horrible fear of being eaten alive. No one dared to move; only after five minutes it occurred to one of the carriers to light a match. I then remembered the fear which feline animals exhibit at the presence of fire, and ordered my men to gather two or three handfuls of brush, which I set on fire. We then saw, about ten steps from us, one of our carriers stretched out on the ground, with his limbs frightfully lacerated by the claws of a huge panther. The beast still lay upon him defiantly, holding a piece of flesh in its mouth. At its side, gaped a box of wine broken open by its fall when the carrier was torn down. Hardly did I make a movement to bring the rifle to my shoulder, when the panther raised itself, and turned toward us while dropping part of its horrible meal. One moment, it appeared about to spring upon me, then it suddenly wheeled, and rending the air with a howl, enough to freeze one's blood, jumped into the midst of the thicket and disappeared. My coolies, whom an odious fear had all the time kept prostrated on the ground, recovered little by little from their fright. Keeping in readiness a few packages of dry grass and matches, we hastened to reach the village Haïena, leaving behind the remains of the unfortunate Hindu, whose fate we feared sharing. An hour later we had left the forest and entered the plain. I ordered my tent erected under a very leafy plane tree, and had a great fire made before it, with a pile of wood, which was the only protection we could employ against the ferocious beasts whose howls continued to reach us from all directions. In the forest my dog had pressed himself against me, with his tail between his legs; but once under the tent, he suddenly recovered his watchfulness, and barked incessantly the whole night, being very careful, however, not to step outside. I spent a terrible night, rifle in hand, listening to the concert of those diabolical howlings, the echoes of which seemed to shake the defile. Some panthers approached our bivouac to answer the barking of Pamir, but dared not attack us. I had left Srinagar at the head of eleven carriers, four of whom had to carry so many boxes of wine, four others bore my travelling effects; one my weapons, another various utensils, and finally a last, who went errands or on reconnaissance. His name was "Chicari," which means "he who accompanies the hunter and gathers the prey." I discharged him in the morning on account of his cowardice and his profound ignorance of the country, and only retained four carriers. It was but slowly that I advanced toward the village of Gounde. How beautiful is nature in the Sind pass, and how much is it beloved by the hunters! Besides the great fallow deer, you meet there the hind, the stag, the mountain sheep and an immense variety of birds, among which I want to mention above all the golden pheasant, and others of red or snow-white plumage, very large partridges and immense eagles. The villages situated along the Sind do not shine by their dimensions. They contain, for the greatest part, not more than ten to twenty huts of an extremely miserable appearance. Their inhabitants are clad in rags. Their cattle belongs to a very small race. I crossed the river at Sambal, and stopped near the village Gounde, where I procured relay horses. In some villages they refused to hire horses to me; I then threatened them with my whip, which at once inspired respect and obedience; my money accomplished the same end; it inspired a servile obedience--not willingness--to obey my least orders. Stick and gold are the true sovereigns in the Orient; without them the Very Grand Mogul would not have had any preponderance. Night began to descend, and I was in a hurry to cross the defile which separates the villages Gogangan and Sonamarg. The road is in very bad condition, and the mountains are infested by beasts of prey which in the night descend into the very villages to seek their prey. The country is delightful and very fertile; nevertheless, but few colonists venture to settle here, on account of the neighborhood of the panthers, which come to the dooryards to seize domestic animals. At the very exit of the defile, near the village of Tchokodar, or Thajwas, the half obscurity prevailing only permitted me to distinguish two dark masses crossing the road. They were two big bears followed by a young one. I was alone with my servant (the caravan having loitered behind), so I did not like to attack them with only one rifle; but the long excursions which I had made on the mountain had strongly developed in me the sense of the hunter. To jump from my horse, shoot, and, without even verifying the result, change quickly the cartridge, was the affair of a second. One bear was about to jump on me, a second shot made it run away and disappear. Holding in my hand my loaded gun, I approached with circumspection, the one at which I had aimed, and found it laying on its flank, dead, with the little cub beside it. Another shot killed the little one, after which I went to work to take off the two superb jet-black skins. This incident made us lose two hours, and night had completely set in when I erected my tent near Tchokodar, which I left at sunrise to gain Baltal, by following the course of the Sind river. At this place the ravishing landscape of the "golden prairie" terminates abruptly with a village of the same name (Sona, gold, and Marg, prairie). The abrupt acclivity of Zodgi-La, which we next surmounted, attains an elevation of 11,500 feet, on the other side of which the whole country assumes a severe and inhospitable character. My hunting adventures closed before reaching Baltal. From there I met on the road only wild goats. In order to hunt, I would have had to leave the grand route and to penetrate into the heart of the mountains full of mysteries. I had neither the inclination nor the time to do so, and, therefore, continued quietly my journey toward Ladak. * * * * * How violent the contrast I felt when passing from the laughing nature and beautiful population of Kachmyr to the arid and forbidding rocks and the beardless and ugly inhabitants of Ladak! The country into which I penetrated is situated at an altitude of 11,000 to 12,000 feet. Only at Karghil the level descends to 8,000 feet. The acclivity of Zodgi-La is very rough; one must climb up an almost perpendicular rocky wall. In certain places the road winds along upon rock ledges of only a metre in width, below which the sight drops into unfathomable abysses. May the Lord preserve the traveller from a fall! At one place, the way is upon long beams introduced into holes made in the rock, like a bridge, and covered up with earth. Brr!--At the thought that a little stone might get loose and roll down the slope of the mountain, or that a too strong oscillation of the beams could precipitate the whole structure into the abyss, and with it him who had ventured upon the perilous path, one feels like fainting more than once during this hazardous passage. After crossing the glaciers we stopped in a valley and prepared to spend the night near a hut, a dismal place surrounded by eternal ice and snow. From Baltal the distances are determined by means of daks, _i.e._, postal stations for mail service. They are low huts, about seven kilometres distant from each other. A man is permanently established in each of these huts. The postal service between Kachmyr and Thibet is yet carried on in a very primitive form. The letters are enclosed in a leather bag, which is handed to the care of a carrier. The latter runs rapidly over the seven kilometres assigned to him, carrying on his back a basket which holds several of these bags, which he delivers to another carrier, who, in his turn, accomplishes his task in an identical manner. Neither rain nor snow can arrest these carriers. In this way the mail service is carried on between Kachmyr and Thibet, and _vice versa_ once a week. For each course the letter carrier is paid six annas (twenty cents); the same wages as is paid to the carriers of merchandise. This sum I also paid to every one of my servants for carrying a ten times heavier load. It makes one's heart ache to see the pale and tired-looking figures of these carriers; but what is to be done? It is the custom of the country. The tea is brought from China by a similar system of transportation, which is rapid and inexpensive. In the village of Montaiyan, I found again the Yarkandien caravan of pilgrims, whom I had promised to accompany on their journey. They recognized me from a distance, and asked me to examine one of their men, who had fallen sick. I found him writhing in the agonies of an intense fever. Shaking my hands as a sign of despair, I pointed to the heavens and gave them to understand that human will and science were now useless, and that God alone could save him. These people journeyed by small stages only; I, therefore, left them and arrived in the evening at Drass, situated at the bottom of a valley near a river of the same name. Near Drass, a little fort of ancient construction, but freshly painted, stands aloof, under the guard of three Sikhs of the Maharadja's army. At Drass, my domicile was the post-house, which is a station--and the only one--of an unique telegraph line from Srinagar to the interior of the Himalayas. From that time on, I no more had my tent put up each evening, but stopped in the caravansarais; places which, though made repulsive by their dirt, are kept warm by the enormous piles of wood burned in their fireplaces. From Drass to Karghil the landscape is unpleasing and monotonous, if one excepts the marvellous effects of the rising and setting sun and the beautiful moonlight. Apart from these the road is wearisome and abounding with dangers. Karghil is the principal place of the district, where the governor of the country resides. Its site is quite picturesque. Two water courses, the Souron and the Wakkha, roll their noisy and turbulent waters among rocks and sunken snags of uprooted trees, escaping from their respective defiles in the rocks, to join in forming here the river Souron, upon the banks of which stands Karghil. A little fort, garrisoned by two or three Sikhs, shows its outlines at the junction of the streams. Provided with a horse, I continued my journey at break of day, entering now the province of Ladak, or Little Thibet. I traversed a ricketty bridge, composed--like all the bridges of Kachmyr--of two long beams, the ends of which were supported upon the banks and the floor made of a layer of fagots and sticks, which imparted to the traveller, at least the illusion of a suspension bridge. Soon afterward I climbed slowly up on a little plateau, which crosses the way at a distance of two kilometres, to descend into the narrow valley of Wakkha. Here there are several villages, among which, on the left shore, is the very picturesque one called Paskium. Here my feet trod Buddhist ground. The inhabitants are of a very simple and mild disposition, seemingly ignorant of "quarreling." Women are very rare among them. Those of them whom I encountered were distinguished from the women I had hitherto seen in India or Kachmyr, by the air of gaiety and prosperity apparent in their countenances. How could it be otherwise, since each woman in this country has, on an average, three to five husbands, and possesses them in the most legitimate way in the world. Polyandry flourishes here. However large a family may be, there is but one woman in it. If the family does not contain already more than two husbands, a bachelor may share its advantages, for a consideration. The days sacred to each one of those husbands are determined in advance, and all acquit themselves of their respective duties and respect each others' rights. The men generally seem feeble, with bent backs, and do not live to old age. During my travels in Ladak, I only encountered one man so old that his hair was white. From Karghil to the centre of Ladak, the road had a more cheerful aspect than that I had traversed before reaching Karghil, its prospect being brightened by a number of little hamlets, but trees and verdure were, unfortunately, rare. Twenty miles from Karghil, at the end of the defile formed by the rapid current of the Wakkha, is a little village called Chargol, in the centre of which stand three chapels, decorated with lively colors (_t'horthenes_, to give them the name they bear in Thibet). Below, near the river, are masses of rocks, in the form of long and large walls, upon which are thrown, in apparent disorder, flat stones of different colors and sizes. Upon these stones are engraved all sorts of prayers, in Ourd, Sanscrit and Thibetan, and one can even find among them inscriptions in Arabic characters. Without the knowledge of my carriers, I succeeded in taking away a few of these stones, which are now in the palace of the Trocadero. Along the way, from Chargol, one finds frequently oblong mounds, artificial constructions. After sunrise, with fresh horses, I resumed my journey and stopped near the _gonpa_ (monastery) of Moulbek, which seems glued on the flank of an isolated rock. Below is the hamlet of Wakkha, and not far from there is to be seen another rock, of very strange form, which seems to have been placed where it stands by human hands. In one side of it is cut a Buddha several metres in height. Upon it are several cylinders, the turning of which serves for prayers. They are a sort of wooden barrel, draped with yellow or white fabrics, and are attached to vertically planted stakes. It requires only the least wind to make them turn. The person who puts up one of these cylinders no longer feels it obligatory upon him to say his prayers, for all that devout believers can ask of God is written upon the cylinders. Seen from a distance this white painted monastery, standing sharply out from the gray background of the rocks, with all these whirling, petticoated wheels, produce a strange effect in this dead country. I left my horses in the hamlet of Wakkha, and, followed by my servant, walked toward the convent, which is reached by a narrow stairway cut in the rock. At the top, I was received by a very fat lama, with a scanty, straggling beard under his chin--a common characteristic of the Thibetan people--who was very ugly, but very cordial. His costume consisted of a yellow robe and a sort of big nightcap, with projecting flaps above the ears, of the same color. He held in his hand a copper prayer-machine which, from time to time, he shook with his left hand, without at all permitting that exercise to interfere with his conversation. It was his eternal prayer, which he thus communicated to the wind, so that by this element it should be borne to Heaven. We traversed a suite of low chambers, upon the walls of which were images of Buddha, of all sizes and made of all kinds of materials, all alike covered by a thick layer of dust. Finally we reached an open terrace, from which the eyes, taking in the surrounding region, rested upon an inhospitable country, strewn with grayish rocks and traversed by only a single road, which on both sides lost itself in the horizon. When we were seated, they brought us beer, made with hops, called here _Tchang_ and brewed in the cloister. It has a tendency to rapidly produce _embonpoint_ upon the monks, which is regarded as a sign of the particular favor of Heaven. They spoke here the Thibetan language. The origin of this language is full of obscurity. One thing is certain, that a king of Thibet, a contemporary of Mohammed, undertook the creation of an universal language for all the disciples of Buddha. To this end he had simplified the Sanscrit grammar, composed an alphabet containing an infinite number of signs, and thus laid the foundations of a language the pronunciation of which is one of the easiest and the writing the most complicated. Indeed, in order to represent a sound one must employ not less than eight characters. All the modern literature of Thibet is written in this language. The pure Thibetan is only spoken in Ladak and Oriental Thibet. In all other parts of the country are employed dialects formed by the mixture of this mother language with different idioms taken from the neighboring peoples of the various regions round about. In the ordinary life of the Thibetan, there exists always two languages, one of which is absolutely incomprehensible to the women, while the other is spoken by the entire nation; but only in the convents can be found the Thibetan language in all its purity and integrity. The lamas much prefer the visits of Europeans to those of Musselmen, and when I asked the one who received me why this was so, he answered me: "Musselmen have no point of contact at all with our religion. Only comparatively recently, in their victorious campaign, they have converted, by force, part of the Buddhists to Islam. It requires of us great efforts to bring back those Musselmen, descendants of Buddhists, into the path of the true God. As regards the Europeans, it is quite a different affair. Not only do they profess the essential principles of monotheism, but they are, in a sense, adorers of Buddha, with almost the same rites as the lamas who inhabit Thibet. The only fault of the Christians is that after having adopted the great doctrines of Buddha, they have completely separated themselves from him, and have created for themselves a different Dalai-Lama. Our Dalai-Lama is the only one who has received the divine gift of seeing, face to face, the majesty of Buddha, and is empowered to serve as an intermediary between earth and heaven." "Which Dalai-Lama of the Christians do you refer to?" I asked him; "we have one, the Son of God, to whom we address directly our fervent prayers, and to him alone we recur to intercede with our One and Indivisible God." "It is not him of whom it is a question, Sahib," he replied. "We, too, respect him, whom we reverence as son of the One and Indivisible God, but we do not see in him the Only Son, but the excellent being who was chosen among all. Buddha, indeed, has incarnated himself, with his divine nature, in the person of the sacred Issa, who, without employing fire or iron, has gone forth to propagate our true and great religion among all the world. Him whom I meant was your terrestrial Dalai-Lama; he to whom you have given the title of 'Father of the Church.' That is a great sin. May he be brought back, with the flock, who are now in a bad road," piously added the lama, giving another twirl to his prayer-machine. I understood now that he alluded to the Pope. "You have told me that a son of Buddha, Issa, the elect among all, had spread your religion on the Earth. Who is he?" I asked. At this question the lama's eyes opened wide; he looked at me with astonishment and pronounced some words I could not catch, murmuring in an unintelligible way. "Issa," he finally replied, "is a great prophet, one of the first after the twenty-two Buddhas. He is greater than any one of all the Dalai-Lamas, for he constitutes part of the spirituality of our Lord. It is he who has instructed you; he who brought back into the bosom of God the frivolous and wicked souls; he who made you worthy of the beneficence of the Creator, who has ordained that each being should know good and evil. His name and his acts have been chronicled in our sacred writings, and when reading how his great life passed away in the midst of an erring people, we weep for the horrible sin of the heathen who murdered him, after subjecting him to torture." I was struck by this recital of the lama. The prophet Issa--his tortures and death--our Christian Dalai-Lama--the Buddhist recognizing Christianity--all these made me think more and more of Jesus Christ. I asked my interpreter not to lose a single word of what the lama told me. "Where can those writings be found, and who compiled them?" I asked the monk. "The principal scrolls--which were written in India and Nepaul, at different epochs, as the events happened--are in Lhassa; several thousands in number. In some great convents are to be found copies, which the lamas, during their sojourn in Lhassa, have made, at various times, and have then given to their cloisters as souvenirs of the period they spent with the Dalai-Lama." "But you, yourselves; do you not possess copies of the scrolls bearing upon the prophet Issa?" "We have not. Our convent is insignificant, and since its foundation our successive lamas have had only a few hundred manuscripts in their library. The great cloisters have several thousands of them; but they are sacred things which will not, anywhere, be shown to you." We spoke together a few minutes longer, after which I went home, all the while thinking of the lama's statements. Issa, a prophet of the Buddhists! But, how could this be? Of Jewish origin, he lived in Palestine and in Egypt; and the Gospels do not contain one word, not even the least allusion, to the part which Buddhism should have played in the education of Jesus. I made up my mind to visit all the convents of Thibet, in the hope of gathering fuller information upon the prophet Issa, and perhaps copies of the chronicles bearing upon this subject. * * * * * We traversed the Namykala Pass, at 30,000 feet of altitude, whence we descended into the valley of the River Salinoumah. Turning southward, we gained Karbou, leaving behind us, on the opposite bank, numerous villages, among other, Chagdoom, which is at the top of a rock, an extremely imposing sight. Its houses are white and have a sort of festive look, with their two and three stories. This, by the way, is a common peculiarity of all the villages of Ladak. The eye of the European, travelling in Kachmyr, would soon lose sight of all architecture to which he had been accustomed. In Ladak, on the contrary, he would be agreeably surprised at seeing the little two and three-story houses, reminders to him of those in European provinces. Near the city of Karbou, upon two perpendicular rocks, one sees the ruins of a little town or village. A tempest and an earthquake are said to have shaken down its walls, the solidity of which seems to have been exceptional. The next day I traversed the Fotu-La Pass, at an altitude of 13,500 feet. At its summit stands a little _t'horthene_ (chapel). Thence, following the dry bed of a stream, I descended to the hamlet of Lamayure, the sudden appearance of which is a surprise to the traveller. A convent, which seems grafted on the side of the rock, or held there in some miraculous way, dominates the village. Stairs are unknown in this cloister. In order to pass from one story of it to another, ropes are used. Communication with the world outside is through a labyrinth of passages in the rock. Under the windows of the convent--which make one think of birds' nests on the face of a cliff---is a little inn, the rooms of which are little inviting. Hardly had I stretched myself on the carpet in one of them, when the monks, dressed in their yellow robes, filled the apartment, bothered me with questions as to whence I came, the purpose of my coming, where I was going, and so on, finally inviting me to come and see them. In spite of my fatigue I accepted their invitation and set out with them, to climb up the excavated passages in the rock, which were encumbered with an infinity of prayer cylinders and wheels, which I could not but touch and set turning as I brushed past them. They are placed there that they may be so turned, saving to the passers-by the time they might otherwise lose in saying their prayers--as if their affairs were so absorbing, and their time so precious, that they could not find leisure to pray. Many pious Buddhists use for this purpose an apparatus arranged to be turned by the current of a stream. I have seen a long row of cylinders, provided with their prayer formulas, placed along a river bank, in such a way that the water kept them constantly in motion, this ingenious device freeing the proprietors from any further obligation to say prayers themselves. I sat down on a bench in the hall, where semi-obscurity reigned. The walls were garnished with little statues of Buddha, books and prayer-wheels. The loquacious lamas began explaining to me the significance of each object. "And those books?" I asked them; "they, no doubt, have reference to religion." "Yes, sir. These are a few religious volumes which deal with the primary and principal rites of the life common to all. We possess several parts of the words of Buddha consecrated to the Great and Indivisible Divine Being, and to all that issue from his hands." "Is there not, among those books, some account of the prophet Issa?" "No, sir," answered the monk. "We only possess a few principal treatises relating to the observance of the religious rites. As for the biographies of our saints, they are collected in Lhassa. There are even great cloisters which have not had the time to procure them. Before coming to this gonpa, I was for several years in a great convent on the other side of Ladak, and have seen there thousands of books, and scrolls copied out of various books by the lamas of the monastery." By some further interrogation I learned that the convent in question was near Leh, but my persistent inquiries had the effect of exciting the suspicions of the lamas. They showed me the way out with evident pleasure, and regaining my room, I fell asleep--after a light lunch--leaving orders with my Hindu to inform himself in a skillful way, from some of the younger lamas of the convent, about the monastery in which their chief had lived before coming to Lamayure. In the morning, when we set forth on our journey, the Hindu told me that he could get nothing from the lamas, who were very reticent. I will not stop to describe the life of the monks in those convents, for it is the same in all the cloisters of Ladak. I have seen the celebrated monastery of Leh--of which I shall have to speak later on--and learned there the strange existences the monks and religious people lead, which is everywhere the same. In Lamayure commences a declivity which, through a steep, narrow and sombre gorge, extends toward India. Without having the least idea of the dangers which the descent presented, I sent my carriers in advance and started on a route, rather pleasant at the outset, which passes between the brown clay hills, but soon it produced upon me the most depressing effect, as though I was traversing a gloomy subterranean passage. Then the road came out on the flank of the mountain, above a terrible abyss. If a rider had met me, we could not possibly have passed each other, the way was so narrow. All description would fail to convey a sense of the grandeur and wild beauty of this cañon, the summit of the walls of which seemed to reach the sky. At some points it became so narrow that from my saddle I could, with my cane, touch the opposite rock. At other places, death might be fancied looking up expectantly, from the abyss, at the traveller. It was too late to dismount. In entering alone this gorge, I had not the faintest idea that I would have occasion to regret my foolish imprudence. I had not realized its character. It was simply an enormous crevasse, rent by some Titanic throe of nature, some tremendous earthquake, which had split the granite mountain. In its bottom I could just distinguish a hardly perceptible white thread, an impetuous torrent, the dull roar of which filled the defile with mysterious and impressive sounds. Far overhead extended, narrow and sinuously, a blue ribbon, the only glimpse of the celestial world that the frowning granite walls permitted to be seen. It was a thrilling pleasure, this majestic view of nature. At the same time, its rugged severity, the vastness of its proportions, the deathly silence only invaded by the ominous murmur from the depths beneath, all together filled me with an unconquerable depression. I had about eight miles in which to experience these sensations, at once sweet and painful. Then, turning to the right, our little caravan reached a small valley, almost surrounded by precipitous granite rocks, which mirrored themselves in the Indus. On the bank of the river stands the little fortress Khalsi, a celebrated fortification dating from the epoch of the Musselman invasion, by which runs the wild road from Kachmyr to Thibet. We crossed the Indus on an almost suspended bridge which led directly to the door of the fortress, thus impossible of evasion. Rapidly we traversed the valley, then the village of Khalsi, for I was anxious to spend the night in the hamlet of Snowely, which is placed upon terraces descending to the Indus. The two following days I travelled tranquilly and without any difficulties to overcome, along the shore of the Indus, in a picturesque country--which brought me to Leh, the capital of Ladak. While traversing the little valley of Saspoula, at a distance of several kilometres from the village of the same name, I found "_t'horthenes_" and two cloisters, above one of which floated the French flag. Later on, I learned that a French engineer had presented the flag to the monks, who displayed it simply as a decoration of their building. I passed the night at Saspoula and certainly did not forget to visit the cloisters, seeing there for the tenth time the omnipresent dust-covered images of Buddha; the flags and banners heaped in a corner; ugly masks on the floor; books and papyrus rolls heaped together without order or care, and the inevitable abundance of prayer-wheels. The lamas demonstrated a particular pleasure in exhibiting these things, doing it with the air of shopmen displaying their goods, with very little care for the degree of interest the traveller may take in them. "We must show everything, in the hope that the sight alone of these sacred objects will force the traveller to believe in the divine grandeur of the human soul." Respecting the prophet Issa, they gave me the same account I already had, and I learned, what I had known before, that the books which could instruct me about him were at Lhassa, and that only the great monasteries possessed some copies. I did not think any more of passing Kara-koroum, but only of finding the history of the prophet Issa, which would, perhaps, bring to light the entire life of the best of men, and complete the rather vague information which the Gospels afford us about him. Not far from Leh, and at the entrance of the valley of the same name, our road passed near an isolated rock, on the top of which were constructed a fort--with two towers and without garrison--and a little convent named Pitak. A mountain, 10,500 feet high, protects the entrance to Thibet. There the road makes a sudden turn toward the north, in the direction of Leh, six miles from Pitak and a thousand feet higher. Immense granite mountains tower above Leh, to a height of 18,000 or 19,000 feet, their crests covered with eternal snow. The city itself, surrounded by a girdle of stunted aspen trees, rises upon successive terraces, which are dominated by an old fort and the palaces of the ancient sovereigns of Ladak. Toward evening I made my entrance into Leh, and stopped at a bengalow constructed especially for Europeans, whom the road from India brings here in the hunting season. Ladak Ladak formerly was part of Great Thibet. The powerful invading forces from the north which traversed the country to conquer Kachmyr, and the wars of which Ladak was the theatre, not only reduced it to misery, but eventually subtracted it from the political domination of Lhassa, and made it the prey of one conqueror after another. The Musselmen, who seized Kachmyr and Ladak at a remote epoch, converted by force the poor inhabitants of old Thibet to the faith of Islam. The political existence of Ladak ended with the annexation of this country to Kachmyr by the sëiks, which, however, permitted the Ladakians to return to their ancient beliefs. Two-thirds of the inhabitants took advantage of this opportunity to rebuild their gonpas and take up their past life anew. Only the Baltistans remained Musselman schüttes--a sect to which the conquerors of the country had belonged. They, however, have only conserved a vague shadow of Islamism, the character of which manifests itself in their ceremonials and in the polygamy which they practice. Some lamas affirmed to me that they did not despair of one day bringing them back to the faith of their ancestors. From the religious point of view Ladak is a dependency of Lhassa, the capital of Thibet and the place of residence of the Dalai-Lama. In Lhassa are located the principal Khoutoukhtes, or Supreme Lamas, and the Chogzots, or administrators. Politically, it is under the authority of the Maharadja of Kachmyr, who is represented there by a governor. The inhabitants of Ladak belong to the Chinese-Touranian race, and are divided into Ladakians and Tchampas. The former lead a sedentary existence, building villages of two-story houses along the narrow valleys, are cleanly in their habits, and cultivators of the soil. They are excessively ugly; thin, with stooping figures and small heads set deep between their shoulders; their cheek bones salient, foreheads narrow, eyes black and brilliant, as are those of all the Mongol race; noses flat, mouths large and thin-lipped; and from their small chins, very thinly garnished by a few hairs, deep wrinkles extend upward furrowing their hollow cheeks. To all this, add a close-shaven head with only a little bristling fringe of hair, and you will have the general type, not alone of Ladak, but of entire Thibet. The women are also of small stature, and have exceedingly prominent cheek bones, but seem to be of much more robust constitution. A healthy red tinges their cheeks and sympathetic smiles linger upon their lips. They have good dispositions, joyous inclinations, and are fond of laughing. The severity of the climate and rudeness of the country, do not permit to the Ladakians much latitude in quality and colors of costume. They wear gowns of simple gray linen and coarse dull-hued clothing of their own manufacture. The pantaloons of the men only descend to their knees. People in good circumstances wear, in addition to the ordinary dress, the "choga," a sort of overcoat which is draped on the back when not wrapped around the figure. In winter they wear fur caps, with big ear flaps, and in summer cover their heads with a sort of cloth hood, the top of which dangles on one side, like a Phrygian cap. Their shoes are made of felt and covered with leather. A whole arsenal of little things hangs down from their belts, among which you will find a needle case, a knife, a pen and inkstand, a tobacco pouch, a pipe, and a diminutive specimen of the omnipresent prayer-cylinder. The Thibetan men are generally so lazy, that if a braid of hair happens to become loose, it is not tressed up again for three months, and when once a shirt is put on the body, it is not again taken off until it falls to pieces. Their overcoats are always unclean, and, on the back, one may contemplate a long oily stripe imprinted by the braid of hair, which is carefully greased every day. They wash themselves once a year, but even then do not do so voluntarily, but because compelled by law. They emit such a terrible stench that one avoids, as much as possible, being near them. The Thibetan women, on the contrary, are very fond of cleanliness and order. They wash themselves daily and as often as may be needful. Short and clean chemises hide their dazzling white necks. The Thibetan woman throws on her round shoulders a red jacket, the flaps of which are covered by tight pantaloons of green or red cloth, made in such a manner as to puff up and so protect the legs against the cold. She wears embroidered red half boots, trimmed and lined with fur. A large cloth petticoat with numerous folds completes her home toilet. Her hair is arranged in thin braids, to which, by means of pins, a large piece of floating cloth is attached,--which reminds one of the headdress so common in Italy. Underneath this sort of veil are suspended a variety of various colored pebbles, coins and pieces of metal. The ears are covered by flaps made of cloth or fur. A furred sheepskin covers the back, poor women contenting themselves with a simple plain skin of the animal, while wealthy ladies wear veritable cloaks, lined with red cloth and adorned with gold fringes. The Ladak woman, whether walking in the streets or visiting her neighbors, always carries upon her back a conical basket, the smaller end of which is toward the ground. They fill it with the dung of horses or cows, which constitute the combustible of the country. Every woman has money of her own, and spends it for jewelry. Generally she purchases, at a small expense, large pieces of turquoise, which are added to the _bizarre_ ornaments of her headdress. I have seen pieces so worn which weighed nearly five pounds. The Ladak woman occupies a social position for which she is envied by all women of the Orient. She is free and respected. With the exception of some rural work, she passes the greatest part of her time in visiting. It must, however, be added that women's gossip is here a perfectly unknown thing. The settled population of Ladak is engaged in agriculture, but they own so little land (the share of each may amount to about eight acres) that the revenue drawn from it is insufficient to provide them with the barest necessities and does not permit them to pay taxes. Manual occupations are generally despised. Artisans and musicians form the lowest class of society. The name by which they are designated is Bem, and people are very careful not to contract any alliance with them. The hours of leisure left by rural work are spent in hunting the wild sheep of Thibet, the skins of which are highly valued in India. The poorest, _i.e._, those who have not the means to purchase arms for hunting, hire themselves as coolies. This is also an occupation of women, who are very capable of enduring arduous toil. They are healthier than their husbands, whose laziness goes so far that, careless of cold or heat, they are capable of spending a whole night in the open air on a bed of stones rather than take the trouble to go to bed. Polyandry (which I shall treat later more fully) causes the formation of very large families, who, in common, cultivate their jointly possessed lands, with the assistance of yaks, zos and zomos (oxen and cows). A member of a family cannot detach himself from it, and when he dies, his share reverts to the survivors in common. They sow but little wheat and the grain is very small, owing to the severity of the climate. They also harvest barley, which they pulverize before selling. When work in the field is ended, all male inhabitants go to gather on the mountain a wild herb called "enoriota," and large thorn bushes or "dama," which are used as fuel, since combustibles are scarce in Ladak. You see there neither trees nor gardens, and only exceptionally thin clumps of willows and poplars grow on the shores of the rivers. Near the villages are also found some aspen trees; but, on account of the unfertility of the ground, arboriculture is unknown and gardening is little successful. The absence of wood is especially noticeable in the buildings, which are made of sun-dried bricks, or, more frequently, of stones of medium size which are agglomerated with a kind of mortar composed of clay and chopped straw. The houses of the settled inhabitants are two stories high, their fronts whitewashed, and their window-sashes painted with lively colors. The flat roof forms a terrace which is decorated with wild flowers, and here, during good weather, the inhabitants spend much of their time contemplating nature, or turning their prayer-wheels. Every dwelling-house is composed of many rooms; among them always one of superior size, the walls of which are decorated with superb fur-skins, and which is reserved for visitors. In the other rooms are beds and other furniture. Rich people possess, moreover, a special room filled with all kinds of idols, and set apart as a place of worship. Life here is very regular. They eat anything attainable, without much choice; the principal nourishment of the Ladak people, however, being exceedingly simple. Their breakfast consists of a piece of rye bread. At dinner, they serve on the table a bowl with meal into which lukewarm water is stirred with little rods until the mixture assumes the consistency of thick paste. From this, small portions are scooped out and eaten with milk. In the evening, bread and tea are served. Meat is a superfluous luxury. Only the hunters introduce some variety in their alimentation, by eating the meat of wild sheep, eagles or pheasants, which are very common in this country. During the day, on every excuse and opportunity, they drink "tchang," a kind of pale, unfermented beer. If it happens that a Ladakian, mounted on a pony (such privileged people are very rare), goes to seek work in the surrounding country, he provides himself with a small stock of meal; when dinner time comes, he descends to a river or spring, mixes with water, in a wooden cup that he always has with him, some of the meal, swallows the simple refreshment and washes it down with water. The Tchampas, or nomads, who constitute the other part of Ladak's population, are rougher, and much poorer than the settled population. They are, for the most part, hunters, who completely neglect agriculture. Although they profess the Buddhistic religion, they never frequent the cloisters unless in want of meal, which they obtain in exchange for their venison. They mostly camp in tents on the summits of the mountains, where the cold is very great. While the properly called Ladakians are peaceable, very desirous of learning, of an incarnated laziness, and are never known to tell untruth; the Tchampas, on the contrary, are very irascible, extremely lively, great liars and profess a great disdain for the convents. Among them lives the small population of Khombas, wanderers from the vicinity of Lhassa, who lead the miserable existence of a troupe of begging gipsies on the highways. Incapable of any work whatever, speaking a language not spoken in the country where they beg for their subsistence, they are the objects of general contempt, and are only tolerated out of pity for their deplorable condition, when hunger drives their mendicant bands to seek alms in the villages. * * * * * Polyandry, which is universally prevalent here, of course interested my curiosity. This institution is, by the way, not the outcome of Buddha's doctrines. Polyandry existed long before the advent of Buddha. It assumed considerable proportions in India, where it constituted one of the most effective means for checking the growth of a population which tends to constant increase, an economic danger which is even yet combatted by the abominable custom of killing newborn female children, which causes terrible ravages in the child-life of India. The efforts made by the English in their enactments against the suppression of the future mothers have proved futile and fruitless. Manu himself established polyandry as a law, and Buddhist preachers, who had renounced Brahminism and preached the use of opium, imported this custom into Ceylon, Thibet, Corea, and the country of the Moguls. For a long time suppressed in China, polyandry, which flourishes in Thibet and Ceylon, is also met with among the Kalmonks, between Todas in Southern India, and Nairs on the coast of Malabar. Traces of this strange constitution of the family are also to be found with the Tasmanians and the Irquois Indians in North America. Polyandry, by the way, has even flourished in Europe, if we may believe Cæsar, who, in his _De Bello Gallico_, book V., page 17, writes: "_Uxores habent deni duodenique inter se communes, et maxime fratres cum fratribus et parentes cum liberis._" In view of all this it is impossible to hold any religion responsible for the existence of the institution of polyandry. In Thibet it can be explained by motives of an economical nature; the small quantity of arable land falling to the share of each inhabitant. In order to support the 1,500,000 inhabitants distributed in Thibet, upon a surface of 1,200,000 square kilometres, the Buddhists were forced to adopt polyandry. Moreover, each family is bound to enter one of its members in a religious order. The firstborn is consecrated to a gonpa, which is inevitably found upon an elevation, at the entrance of every village. As soon as the child attains the age of eighteen years, he is entrusted to the caravans which pass Lhassa, where he remains from eight to fifteen years as a novice, in one of the gonpas which are near the city. There he learns to read and write, is taught the religious rites and studies the sacred parchments written in the Pali language--which formerly used to be the language of the country of Maguada, where, according to tradition, Buddha was born. The oldest brother remaining in a family chooses a wife, who becomes common to his brothers. The choice of the bride and the nuptial ceremonies are most rudimentary. When a wife and her husband have decided upon the marriage of a son, the brother who possesses the right of choice, pays a visit to a neighboring family in which there is a marriageable daughter. The first and second visits are spent in more or less indifferent conversations, blended with frequent libations of tchang, and on the third visit only does the young man declare his intention to take a wife. Upon this the girl is formally introduced to him. She is generally not unknown to the wooer, as, in Ladak, women never veil their faces. A girl cannot be married without her consent. When the young man is accepted, he takes his bride to his house, and she becomes his wife and also the wife of all his brothers. A family which has an only son sends him to a woman who has no more than two or three husbands, and he offers himself to her as a fourth husband. Such an offer is seldom declined, and the young man settles in the new family. The newly married remain with the parents of the husbands, until the young wife bears her first child. The day after that event, the grandparents of the infant make over the bulk of their fortune to the new family, and, abandoning the old home to them, seek other shelter. Sometimes marriages are contracted between youth who have not reached a marriageable age, but in such event, the married couple are made to live apart, until they have attained and even passed the age required. An unmarried girl who becomes _enceinte_, far from being exposed to the scorn of every one, is shown the highest respect; for she is demonstrated fruitful, and men eagerly seek her in marriage. A wife has the unquestioned right of having an unlimited number of husbands and lovers. If she likes a young man, she takes him home, announces that he has been chosen by her as a "jingtuh" (a lover), and endows him with all the personal rights of a husband, which situation is accepted by her temporarily supplanted husbands with a certain philosophic pleasure, which is the more pronounced if their wife has proved sterile during the three first years of her marriage. They certainly have here not even a vague idea of jealousy. The Thibetan's blood is too cold to know love, which, for him, would be almost an anachronism; if indeed he were not conscious that the sentiment of the entire community would be against him, as a flagrant violator of popular usage and established rights, in restraining the freedom of the women. The selfish enjoyment of love would be, in their eyes, an unjustifiable luxury. In case of a husband's absence, his place may be offered to a bachelor or a widower. The latter are here in the minority, since the wife generally survives her feeble husbands. Sometimes a Buddhist traveller, whom his affairs bring to the village, is chosen for this office. A husband who travels, or seeks for work in the neighboring country, at every stop takes advantage of his co-religionists' hospitality, who offer him their own wives. The husbands of a sterile woman exert themselves to find opportunities for hospitality, which may happily eventuate in a change in her condition, that they may be made happy fathers. The wife enjoys the general esteem, is ever of a cheerful disposition, takes part in everything that is going on, goes and comes without any restriction, anywhere and everywhere she pleases, with the exception of the principal prayer-room of the monastery, entrance into which is formally prohibited to her. Children know only their mother, and do not feel the least affection for their fathers, for the simple reason that they have so many. Without approving polyandry, I could not well blame Thibet for this institution, since without it, the population would prodigiously increase. Famine and misery would fall upon the whole nation, with all the sinister _sequellæ_ of murder and theft, crimes so far absolutely unknown in the whole country. _A Festival in a Gonpa_ Leh, the capital of Ladak, is a little town of 5,000 inhabitants, who live in white, two-story houses, upon two or three streets, principally. In its centre is the square of the bazaar, where the merchants of India, China, Turkestan, Kachmyr and Thibet, come to exchange their products for the Thibetan gold. Here the natives provide themselves with cloths for themselves and their monks, and various objects of real necessity. An old uninhabited palace rises upon a hill which dominates the town. Fronting the central square is a vast building, two stories in height, the residence of the governor of Ladak, the Vizier Souradjbal--a very amiable and universally popular Pendjaban, who has received in London the degree of Doctor of Philosophy. To entertain me, during my sojourn in Leh, the governor arranged, on the bazaar square, a game of polo--the national sport of the Thibetans, which the English have adopted and introduced into Europe. In the evening, after the game, the people executed dances and played games before the governor's residence. Large bonfires illuminated the scene, lighting up the throng of inhabitants, who formed a great circle about the performers. The latter, in considerable numbers, disguised as animals, devils and sorcerers, jumped and contorted themselves in rhythmic dances timed to the measure of the monotonous and unpleasing music made by two long trumpets and a drum. The infernal racket and shouting of the crowd wearied me. The performance ended with some graceful dances by Thibetan women, who spun upon their heels, swaying to and fro, and, in passing before the spectators in the windows of the residence, greeted us by the clashing together of the copper and ivory bracelets on their crossed wrists. The next day, at an early hour, I repaired to the great Himis convent, which, a little distance from Leh, is elevated upon the top of a great rock, on a picturesque site, commanding the valley of the Indies. It is one of the principal monasteries of the country, and is maintained by the gifts of the people and the subsidies it receives from Lhassa. On the road leading to it, beyond the bridge crossing the Indus, and in the vicinity of the villages lining the way, one finds heaps of stones bearing engraved inscriptions, such as have already been described, and _t'horthenes_. At these places, our guides were very careful to turn to the right. I wished to turn my horse to the left, but the Ladakians made him go back and led him by his halter to the right, explaining to me that such was their established usage. I found it impossible to learn the origin or reason of this custom. Above the gonpa rises a battlemented tower, visible from a great distance. We climbed, on foot, to the level on which the edifice stands and found ourselves confronted by a large door, painted in brilliant colors, the portal of a vast two-story building enclosing a court paved with little pebbles. To the right, in one of the angles of the court, is another huge painted door, adorned with big copper rings. It is the entrance to the principal temple, which is decorated with paintings of the principal gods, and contains a great statue of Buddha and a multitude of sacred statuettes. To the left, upon a verandah, was placed an immense prayer-cylinder. All the lamas of the convent, with their chief, stood about it, when we entered the court. Below the verandah were musicians, holding long trumpets and drums. At the right of the court were a number of doors, leading to the rooms of the lamas; all decorated with sacred paintings and provided with little prayer-barrels fancifully surmounted by black and white tridents, from the points of which floated ribbons bearing inscriptions--doubtless prayers. In the centre of the court were raised two tall masts, from the tops of which dangled tails of yaks, and long paper streamers floated, covered with religious inscriptions. All along the walls were numerous prayer-barrels, adorned with ribbons. A profound silence reigned among the many spectators present. All awaited anxiously the commencement of a religious "mystery," which was about to be presented. We took up a position near the verandah. Almost immediately, the musicians drew from their long trumpets soft and monotonous tones, marking the time by measured beats upon an odd-looking drum, broad and shallow, upreared upon a stick planted in the ground. At the first sounds of the strange music, in which joined the voices of the lamas in a melancholy chant, the doors along the wall opened simultaneously, giving entrance to about twenty masked persons, disguised as animals, birds, devils and imaginary monsters. On their breasts they bore representations of fantastic dragons, demons and skulls, embroidered with Chinese silk of various colors. From the conical hats they wore, depended to their breasts long multicolored ribbons, covered with inscriptions. Their masks were white death's-heads. Slowly they marched about the masts, stretching out their arms from time to time and flourishing with their left hands spoon-shaped objects, the bowl portions of which were said to be fragments of human crania, with ribbons attached, having affixed to their ends human hair, which, I was assured, had been taken from scalped enemies. Their promenade, in gradually narrowing circles about the masts, soon became merely a confused jostling of each other; when the rolling of the drum grew more accentuated, the performers for an instant stopped, then started again, swinging above their heads yellow sticks, ribbon-decked, which with their right hands they brandished in menacing attitudes. After making a salute to the chief lama, they approached the door leading to the temple, which at this instant opened, and from it another band came forth, whose heads were covered by copper masks. Their dresses were of rich materials, embroidered in various bright colors. In one hand each of them carried a small tambourine and with the other he agitated a little bell. From the rim of each tambourine depended a metallic ball, so placed that the least movement of the hand brought it in contact with the resonant tympanum, which caused a strange, continuous undercurrent of pulsating sound. There new performers circled several times about the court, marking the time of their dancing steps by measured thumpings of the tambourines. At the completion of each turn, they made a deafening noise with their instruments. Finally, they ran to the temple door and ranged themselves upon the steps before it. For a moment, there was silence. Then we saw emerge from the temple a third band of performers. Their enormous masks represented different deities, and each bore upon its forehead "the third eye." At their head marched Thlogan-Poudma-Jungnas (literally "he who was born in the lotus flower"). Another richly dressed mask marched beside him, carrying a yellow parasol covered with symbolic designs. His suite was composed of gods, in magnificent costumes; Dorje-Trolong and Sangspa-Kourpo (_i.e._, Brahma himself), and others. These masks, as a lama sitting near me explained to us, represented six classes of beings subject to the metamorphoses; the gods, the demigods, men, animals, spirits and demons. On each side of these personages, who advanced gravely, marched other masks, costumed in silks of brilliant hues and wearing on their heads golden crowns, fashioned with six lotus-like flowers on each, surmounted by a tall dart in the centre. Each of these masks carried a drum. These disguises made three turns about the masts, to the sound of a noisy and incoherent music, and then seated themselves on the ground, around Thlogan-Pondma-Jungnas, a god with three eyes, who gravely introduced two fingers into his mouth and emitted a shrill whistle. At this signal, young men dressed in warrior costumes--with ribbon-decked bells dangling about their legs--came with measured steps from the temple. Their heads were covered by enormous green masks, from which floated triangular red flags, and they, too, carried tambourines. Making a diabolical din, they whirled and danced about the gods seated on the ground. Two big fellows accompanying them, who were dressed in tight clown costumes, executed all kinds of grotesque contortions and acrobatic feats, by which they won plaudits and shouts of laughter from the spectators. Another group of disguises--of which the principal features were red mitres and yellow pantaloons--came out of the temple, with bells and tambourines in their hands, and seated themselves opposite the gods, as representatives of the highest powers next to divinity. Lastly there entered upon the scene a lot of red and brown masks, with a "third eye" painted on their breasts. With those who had preceded them, they formed two long lines of dancers, who to the thrumming of their many tambourines, the measured music of the trumpets and drums, and the jingling of a myriad of bells, performed a dance, approaching and receding from each other, whirling in circles, forming by twos in a column and breaking from that formation to make new combinations, pausing occasionally to make reverent obeisance before the gods. After a time this spectacular excitement--the noisy monotony of which began to weary me--calmed down a little; gods, demigods, kings, men and spirits got up, and followed by all the other maskers, directed themselves toward the temple door, whence issued at once, meeting them, a lot of men admirably disguised as skeletons. All those sorties were calculated and prearranged, and every one of them had its particular significance. The _cortège_ of dancers gave way to the skeletons, who advanced with measured steps, in silence, to the masts, where they stopped and made a concerted clicking with pieces of wood hanging at their sides, simulating perfectly the rattling of dry bones and gnashing of teeth. Twice they went in a circle around the masts, marching in time to low taps on the drums, and then joined in a lugubrious religious chant. Having once more made the concerted rattling of their artificial bones and jaws, they executed some contortions painful to witness and together stopped. Then they seized upon an image of the Enemy of Man--made of some sort of brittle paste--which had been placed at the foot of one of the masts. This they broke in pieces and scattered, and the oldest men among the spectators, rising from their places, picked up the fragments which they handed to the skeletons--an action supposed to signify that they would soon be ready to join the bony crew in the cemetery. * * * * * The chief lama, approaching me, tendered an invitation to accompany him to the principal terrace and partake of the festal "tchang"; which I accepted with pleasure, for my head was dizzy from the long spectacle. We crossed the court and climbed a staircase--obstructed with prayer-wheels, as usual--passed two rooms where there were many images of gods, and came out upon the terrace, where I seated myself upon a bench opposite the venerable lama, whose eyes sparkled with spirit. Three lamas brought pitchers of tchang, which they poured into small copper cups, that were offered first to the chief lama, then to me and my servants. "Did you enjoy our little festival?" the lama asked me. "I found it very enjoyable and am still impressed by the spectacle I have witnessed. But, to tell the truth, I never suspected for a moment that Buddhism, in these religious ceremonies, could display such a visible, not to say noisy, exterior form." "There is no religion, the ceremonies of which are not surrounded with more theatrical forms," the lama answered. "This is a ritualistic phase which does not by any means violate the fundamental principles of Buddhism. It is a practical means for maintaining in the ignorant mass obedience to and love for the one Creator, just as a child is beguiled by toys to do the will of its parents. The ignorant mass is the child of The Father." "But what is the meaning," I said to him, "of all those masks, costumes, bells, dances, and, generally, of this entire performance, which seems to be executed after a prescribed programme?" "We have many similar festivals in the year," answered the lama, "and we arrange particular ones to represent 'mysteries,' susceptible of pantomimic presentation, in which each actor is allowed considerable latitude of action, in the movements and jests he likes, conforming, nevertheless, to the circumstances and to the leading idea. Our mysteries are simply pantomimes calculated to show the veneration offered to the gods, which veneration sustains and cheers the soul of man, who is prone to anxious contemplation of inevitable death and the life to come. The actors receive the dresses from the cloister and they play according to general indications, which leave them much liberty of individual action. The general effect produced is, no doubt, very beautiful, but it is a matter for the spectators themselves to divine the signification of one or another action. You, too, have recourse sometimes to similar devices, which, however, do not in the least violate the principle of monotheism." "Pardon me," I remarked, "but this multitude of idols with which your gonpas abound, is a flagrant violation of that principle." "As I have told you," replied the lama to my interruption, "man will always be in childhood. He sees and feels the grandeur of nature and understands everything presented to his senses, but he neither sees nor divines the Great Soul which created and animates all things. Man has always sought for tangible things. It was not possible for him to believe long in that which escaped his material senses. He has racked his brain for any means for contemplating the Creator; has endeavored to enter into direct relations with him who has done him so much good, and also, as he erroneously believes, so much evil. For this reason he began to adore every phase of nature from which he received benefits. We see a striking example of this in the ancient Egyptians, who adored animals, trees, stones, the winds and the rain. Other peoples, who were more sunk in ignorance, seeing that the results of the wind were not always beneficent, and that the rain did not inevitably bring good harvests, and that the animals were not willingly subservient to man, began to seek for direct intermediaries between themselves and the great mysterious and unfathomable power of the Creator. Therefore they made for themselves idols, which they regarded as indifferent to things concerning them, but to whose interposition in their behalf, they might always recur. From remotest antiquity to our own days, man was ever inclined only to tangible realities. "While seeking a route to lead their feet to the Creator, the Assyrians turned their eyes toward the stars, which they contemplated without the power of attaining them. The Guebers have conserved the same belief to our days. In their nullity and spiritual blindness, men are incapable of conceiving the invisible spiritual bond which unites them to the great Divinity, and this explains why they have always sought for palpable things, which were in the domain of the senses, and by doing which they minimized the divine principle. Nevertheless, they have dared to attribute to their visible and man-made images a divine and eternal existence. We can see the same fact in Brahminism, where man, given to his inclination for exterior forms, has created, little by little, and not all at once, an army of gods and demigods. The Israelites may be said to have demonstrated, in the most flagrant way, the love of man for everything which is concrete. In spite of a series of striking miracles accomplished by the great Creator, who is the same for all the peoples, the Jewish people could not help making a god of metal in the very minute when their prophet Mossa spoke to them of the Creator! Buddhism has passed through the same modifications. Our great reformer, Sakya-Muni, inspired by the Supreme Judge, understood truly the one and indivisible Brahma, and forbade his disciples attempting to manufacture images in imaginary semblance of him. He had openly broken from the polytheistic Brahmins, and appreciated the purity, oneness and immortality of Brahma. The success he achieved by his teachings in making disciples among the people, brought upon him persecution by the Brahmins, who, in the creation of new gods, had found a source of personal revenue, and who, contrary to the law of God, treated the people in a despotic manner. Our first sacred teachers, to whom we give the name of buddhas--which means, learned men or saints--because the great Creator has incarnated in them, settled in different countries of the globe. As their teachings attacked especially the tyranny of the Brahmins and the misuse they made of the idea of God--of which they indeed made a veritable business--almost all the Buddhistic converts, they who followed the doctrines of those great teachers, were among the common people of China and India. Among those teachers, particular reverence is felt for the Buddha, Sakya-Muni, known in China also under the name of Fô, who lived three thousand years ago, and whose teachings brought all China back into the path of the true God; and the Buddha, Gautama, who lived two thousand five hundred years ago, and converted almost half the Hindus to the knowledge of the impersonal, indivisible and only God, besides whom there is none. "Buddhism is divided into many sects which, by the way, differ only in certain religious ceremonies, the basis of the doctrine being everywhere the same. The Thibetan Buddhists, who are called 'lamaists,' separated themselves from the Fô-ists fifteen hundred years ago. Until that time we had formed part of the worshippers of the Buddha, Fô-Sakya-Muni, who was the first to collect all the laws compiled by the various buddhas preceding him, when the great schism took place in the bosom of Brahmanism. Later on, a Khoutoukhte-Mongol translated into Chinese the books of the great Buddha, for which the Emperor of China rewarded him by bestowing upon him the title of 'Go-Chi--'Preceptor of the King!' After his death, this title was given to the Dalai-Lama of Thibet. Since that epoch, all the titularies of this position have borne the title of Go-Chi. Our religion is called the Lamaic one--from the word 'lama,' superior. It admits of two classes of monks, the red and the yellow. The former may marry, and they recognize the authority of the Bantsine, who resides in Techow Loumba, and is chief of the civil administration in Thibet. We, the yellow lamas, have taken the vow of celibacy, and our direct chief is the Dalai-Lama. This is the difference which separates the two religious orders, the respective rituals of which are identical." "Do all perform mysteries similar to that which I have just witnessed?" "Yes; with a few exceptions. Formerly these festivals were celebrated with very solemn pomp, but since the conquest of Ladak our convents have been, more than once, pillaged and our wealth taken away. Now we content ourselves with simple garments and bronze utensils, while in Thibet you see but golden robes and gold utensils." "In a visit which I recently made to a gonpa, one of the lamas told me of a prophet, or, as you call him, a buddha, by the name of Issa. Could you not tell me anything about him?" I asked my interlocutor, seizing this favorable moment to start the subject which interested me so greatly. "The name Issa is very much respected among the Buddhists," he replied, "but he is only known by the chief lamas, who have read the scrolls relating to his life. There have existed an infinite number of buddhas like Issa, and the 84,000 scrolls existing are filled brim full of details concerning each one of them. But very few persons have read the one-hundredth part of those memoirs. In conformity with established custom, every disciple or lama who visits Lhassa makes a gift of one or several copies, from the scrolls there, to the convent to which he belongs. Our gonpa, among others, possesses already a great number, which I read in my leisure hours. Among them are the memoirs of the life and acts of the Buddha Issa, who preached the same doctrine in India and among the sons of Israel, and who was put to death by the Pagans, whose descendants, later on, adopted the beliefs he spread,--and those beliefs are yours. "The great Buddha, the soul of the Universe, is the incarnation of Brahma. He, almost always, remains immobile, containing in himself all things, being in himself the origin of all and his breath vivifying the world. He has left man to the control of his own forces, but, at certain epochs, lays aside his inaction and puts on a human form that he may, as their teacher and guide, rescue his creatures from impending destruction. In the course of his terrestrial existence in the similitude of man, Buddha creates a new world in the hearts of erring men; then he leaves the earth, to become once more an invisible being and resume his condition of perfect bliss. Three thousand years ago, Buddha incarnated in the celebrated Prince Sakya-Muni, reaffirming and propagating the doctrines taught by him in his twenty preceding incarnations. Twenty-five hundred years ago, the Great Soul of the World incarnated anew in Gautama, laying the foundation of a new world in Burmah, Siam and different islands. Soon afterward, Buddhism began to penetrate China, through the persevering efforts of the sages, who devoted themselves to the propagation of the sacred doctrine, and under Ming-Ti, of the Honi dynasty, nearly 2,050 years ago, the teachings of Sakya-Muni were adopted by the people of that country. Simultaneously with the appearance of Buddhism in China, the same doctrines began to spread among the Israelites. It is about 2,000 years ago that the perfect Being, awaking once more for a short time from his inaction, incarnated in the newborn child of a poor family. It was his will that this little child should enlighten the unhappy upon the life of the world to come and bring erring men back into the path of truth; showing to them, by his own example, the way they could best return to the primitive morality and purity of our race. When this sacred child attained a certain age, he was brought to India, where, until he attained to manhood, he studied the laws of the great Buddha, who dwells eternally in heaven." "In what language are written the principal scrolls bearing upon the life of Issa?" I asked, rising from my seat, for I saw that my interesting interlocutor evidenced fatigue, and had just given a twirl to his prayer-wheel, as if to hint the closing of the conversation. "The original scrolls brought from India to Nepaul, and from Nepaul to Thibet, relating to the life of Issa, are written in the Pali language and are actually in Lhassa; but a copy in our language--I mean the Thibetan--is in this convent." "How is Issa looked upon in Thibet? Has he the repute of a saint?" "The people are not even aware that he ever existed. Only the principal lamas, who know of him through having studied the scrolls in which his life is related, are familiar with his name; but, as his doctrine does not constitute a canonical part of Buddhism, and the worshippers of Issa do not recognize the authority of the Dalai-Lama, the prophet Issa--with many others like him--is not recognized in Thibet as one of the principal saints." "Would you commit a sin in reciting your copy of the life of Issa to a stranger?" I asked him. "That which belongs to God," he answered me, "belongs also to man. Our duty requires us to cheerfully devote ourselves to the propagation of His doctrine. Only, I do not, at present, know where that manuscript is. If you ever visit our gonpa again, I shall take pleasure in showing it to you." At this moment two monks entered, and uttered to the chief lama a few words unintelligible to me. "I am called to the sacrifices. Will you kindly excuse me?" said he to me, and with a salute, turned to the door and disappeared. I could do no better than withdraw and lie down in the chamber which was assigned to me and where I spent the night. * * * * * In the evening of the next day I was again in Leh--thinking of how to get back to the convent. Two days later I sent, by a messenger, to the chief lama, as presents, a watch, an alarm clock, and a thermometer. At the same time I sent the message that before leaving Ladak I would probably return to the convent, in the hope that he would permit me to see the manuscript which had been the subject of our conversation. It was now my purpose to gain Kachmyr and return from there, some time later, to Himis. But fate made a different decision for me. In passing a mountain, on a height of which is perched the gonpa of Piatak, my horse made a false step, throwing me to the ground so violently that my right leg was broken below the knee. It was impossible to continue my journey, I was not inclined to return to Leh; and seeking the hospitality of the gonpa of Piatak was not, from the appearance of the cloister, an enticing prospect. My best recourse would be to return to Himis, then only about half a day's journey distant, and I ordered my servants to transport me there. They bandaged my broken leg--an operation which caused me great pain--and lifted me into the saddle. One carrier walked by my side, supporting the weight of the injured member, while another led my horse. At a late hour of the evening we reached the door of the convent of Himis. When informed of my accident, the kind monks came out to receive me and, with a wealth of extraordinary precautions of tenderness, I was carried inside, and, in one of their best rooms, installed upon an improvised bed, consisting of a mountain of soft fabrics, with the naturally-to-be-expected prayer-cylinder beside me. All this was done for me under the personal supervision of their chief lama, who, with affectionate sympathy, pressed the hand I gave him in expression of my thanks for his kindness. In the morning, I myself bound around the injured limb little oblong pieces of wood, held by cords, to serve as splints. Then I remained perfectly quiescent and nature was not slow in her reparative work. Within two days my condition was so far improved that I could, had it been necessary, have left the gonpa and directed myself slowly toward India in search of a surgeon to complete my cure. While a boy kept in motion the prayer-barrel near my bed, the venerable lama who ruled the convent entertained me with many interesting stories. Frequently he took from their box the alarm clock and the watch, that I might illustrate to him the process of winding them and explain to him their uses. At length, yielding to my ardent insistence, he brought me two big books, the large leaves of which were of paper yellow with age, and from them read to me the biography of Issa, which I carefully transcribed in my travelling notebook according to the translation made by the interpreter. This curious document is compiled under the form of isolated verses, which, as placed, very often had no apparent connection with, or relation to each other. On the third day, my condition was so far improved as to permit the prosecution of my journey. Having bound up my leg as well as possible, I returned, across Kachmyr, to India; a slow journey, of twenty days, filled with intolerable pain. Thanks, however, to a litter, which a French gentleman, M. Peicheau, had kindly sent to me (my gratitude for which I take this occasion to express), and to an ukase of the Grand Vizier of the Maharajah of Kachmyr, ordering the local authorities to provide me with carriers, I reached Srinagar, and left almost immediately, being anxious to gain India before the first snows fell. In Muré I encountered another Frenchman, Count André de Saint Phall, who was making a journey of recreation across Hindostan. During the whole course, which we made together, to Bombay, the young count demonstrated a touching solicitude for me, and sympathy for the excruciating pain I suffered from my broken leg and the fever induced by its torture. I cherish for him sincere gratitude, and shall never forget the friendly care which I received upon my arrival in Bombay from the Marquis de Morés, the Vicomte de Breteul, M. Monod, of the Comptoir d'Escompte, M. Moët, acting consul, and all the members of the very sympathetic French colony there. During a long time I revolved in my mind the purpose of publishing the memoirs of the life of Jesus Christ found by me in Himis, of which I have spoken, but other interests absorbed my attention and delayed it. Only now, after having passed long nights of wakefulness in the coordination of my notes and grouping the verses conformably to the march of the recital, imparting to the work, as a whole, a character of unity, I resolve to let this curious chronicle see the light. _The Life of Saint Issa_ "Best of the Sons of Men." I. 1. The earth trembled and the heavens wept, because of the great crime committed in the land of Israel. 2. For there was tortured and murdered the great and just Issa, in whom was manifest the soul of the Universe; 3. Which had incarnated in a simple mortal, to benefit men and destroy the evil spirit in them; 4. To lead back to peace, love and happiness, man, degraded by his sins, and recall him to the one and indivisible Creator whose mercy is infinite. 5. The merchants coming from Israel have given the following account of what has occurred: II. 1. The people of Israel--who inhabit a fertile country producing two harvests a year and affording pasture for large herds of cattle--by their sins brought down upon themselves the anger of the Lord; 2. Who inflicted upon them terrible chastisements, taking from them their land, their cattle and their wealth. They were carried away into slavery by the rich and mighty Pharaohs who then ruled the land of Egypt. 3. The Israelites were, by the Pharaohs, treated worse than beasts, condemned to hard labor and put in irons; their bodies were covered with wounds and sores; they were not permitted to live under a roof, and were starved to death; 4. That they might be maintained in a state of continual terror and deprived of all human resemblance; 5. And in this great calamity, the Israelites, remembering their Celestial Protector, implored his forgiveness and mercy. 6. At that period reigned in Egypt an illustrious Pharaoh, who was renowned for his many victories, immense riches, and the gigantic palaces he had erected by the labor of his slaves. 7. This Pharaoh had two sons, the younger of whom, named Mossa, had acquired much knowledge from the sages of Israel. 8. And Mossa was beloved by all in Egypt for his kindness of heart and the pity he showed to all sufferers. 9. When Mossa saw that the Israelites, in spite of their many sufferings, had not forsaken their God, and refused to worship the gods of Egypt, created by the hands of man. 10. He also put his faith in their invisible God, who did not suffer them to betray Him, despite their ever growing weakness. 11. And the teachers among Israel animated Mossa in his zeal, and prayed of him that he would intercede with his father, Pharaoh, in favor of their co-religionists. 12. Prince Mossa went before his father, begging him to lighten the burden of the unhappy people; Pharaoh, however, became incensed with rage, and ordered that they should be tormented more than before. 13. And it came to pass that Egypt was visited by a great calamity. The plague decimated young and old, the healthy and the sick; and Pharaoh beheld in this the resentment of his own gods against him. 14. But Prince Mossa said to his father that it was the God of his slaves who thus interposed on behalf of his wretched people, and avenged them upon the Egyptians. 15. Thereupon, Pharaoh commanded Mossa, his son, to gather all the Israelite slaves, and lead them away, and found, at a great distance from the capital, another city where he should rule over them. 16. Then Mossa made known to the Hebrew slaves that he had obtained their freedom in the name of his and their God, the God of Israel; and with them he left the city and departed from the land of Egypt. 17. He led them back to the land which, because of their many sins, had been taken from them. There he gave them laws and admonished them to pray always to God, the indivisible Creator, whose kindness is infinite. 18. After Prince Mossa's death, the Israelites observed rigorously his laws; and God rewarded them for the ills to which they had been subjected in Egypt. 19. Their kingdom became one of the most powerful on earth; their kings made themselves renowned for their treasures, and peace reigned in Israel. III. 1. The glory of Israel's wealth spread over the whole earth, and the surrounding nations became envious. 2. But the Most High himself led the victorious arms of the Hebrews, and the Pagans did not dare to attack them. 3. Unfortunately, man is prone to err, and the fidelity of the Israelites to their God was not of long duration. 4. Little by little they forgot the favors he had bestowed upon them; rarely invoked his name, and sought rather protection by the magicians and sorcerers. 5. The kings and the chiefs among the people substituted their own laws for those given by Mossa; the temple of God and the observances of their ancient faith were neglected; the people addicted themselves to sensual gratifications and lost their original purity. 6. Many centuries had elapsed since their exodus from Egypt, when God bethought himself of again inflicting chastisement upon them. 7. Strangers invaded Israel, devastated the land, destroyed the villages, and carried their inhabitants away into captivity. 8. At last came the Pagans from over the sea, from the land of Romeles. These made themselves masters of the Hebrews, and placed over them their army chiefs, who governed in the name of Cæsar. 9. They defiled the temples, forced the inhabitants to cease the worship of the indivisible God, and compelled them to sacrifice to the heathen gods. 10. They made common soldiers of those who had been men of rank; the women became their prey, and the common people, reduced to slavery, were carried away by thousands over the sea. 11. The children were slain, and soon, in the whole land, there was naught heard but weeping and lamentation. 12. In this extreme distress, the Israelites once more remembered their great God, implored his mercy and prayed for his forgiveness. Our Father, in his inexhaustible clemency, heard their prayer. IV. 1. At that time the moment had come for the compassionate Judge to reincarnate in a human form; 2. And the eternal Spirit, resting in a state of complete inaction and supreme bliss, awakened and separated from the eternal Being, for an undetermined period, 3. So that, in human form, He might teach man to identify himself with the Divinity and attain to eternal felicity; 4. And to show, by His example, how man can attain moral purity and free his soul from the domination of the physical senses, so that it may achieve the perfection necessary for it to enter the Kingdom of Heaven, which is immutable and where bliss eternal reigns. 5. Soon after, a marvellous child was born in the land of Israel. God himself spoke, through the mouth of this child, of the miseries of the body and the grandeur of the soul. 6. The parents of the infant were poor people, who belonged to a family noted for great piety; who forgot the greatness of their ancestors in celebrating the name of the Creator and giving thanks to Him for the trials which He had sent upon them. 7. To reward them for adhering to the path of truth, God blessed the firstborn of this family; chose him for His elect, and sent him to sustain the fallen and comfort the afflicted. 8. The divine child, to whom the name Issa was given, commenced in his tender years to talk of the only and indivisible God, exhorting the strayed souls to repent and purify themselves from the sins of which they had become guilty. 9. People came from all parts to hear him, and marvelled at the discourses which came from his infantile mouth; and all Israel agreed that the Spirit of the Eternal dwelt in this child. 10. When Issa was thirteen years old, the age at which an Israelite is expected to marry, 11. The modest house of his industrious parents became a meeting place of the rich and illustrious, who were anxious to have as a son-in-law the young Issa, who was already celebrated for the edifying discourses he made in the name of the All-Powerful. 12. Then Issa secretly absented himself from his father's house; left Jerusalem, and, in a train of merchants, journeyed toward the Sindh, 13. With the object of perfecting himself in the knowledge of the word of God and the study of the laws of the great Buddhas. V. 1. In his fourteenth year, young Issa, the Blessed One, came this side of the Sindh and settled among the Aryas, in the country beloved by God. 2. Fame spread the name of the marvellous youth along the northern Sindh, and when he came through the country of the five streams and Radjipoutan, the devotees of the god Djaïne asked him to stay among them. 3. But he left the deluded worshippers of Djaïne and went to Djagguernat, in the country of Orsis, where repose the mortal remains of Vyassa-Krishna, and where the white priests of Brahma welcomed him joyfully. 4. They taught him to read and to understand the Vedas, to cure physical ills by means of prayers, to teach and to expound the sacred Scriptures, to drive out evil desires from man and make him again in the likeness of God. 5. He spent six years in Djagguernat, in Radjagriha, in Benares, and in other holy cities. The common people loved Issa, for he lived in peace with the Vaisyas and the Sudras, to whom he taught the Holy Scriptures. 6. But the Brahmins and the Kshatnyas told him that they were forbidden by the great Para-Brahma to come near to those who were created from his belly and his feet;[1] 7. That the Vaisyas might only hear the recital of the Vedas, and this only on the festal days, and 8. That the Sudras were not only forbidden to attend the reading of the Vedas, but even to look on them; for they were condemned to perpetual servitude, as slaves of the Brahmins, the Kshatriyas and even the Vaisyas. 9. "Death alone can enfranchise them from their servitude," has said Para-Brahma. "Leave them, therefore, and come to adore with us the gods, whom you will make angry if you disobey them." 10. But Issa, disregarding their words, remained with the Sudras, preaching against the Brahmins and the Kshatriyas. 11. He declaimed strongly against man's arrogating to himself the authority to deprive his fellow-beings of their human and spiritual rights. "Verily," he said, "God has made no difference between his children, who are all alike dear to Him." 12. Issa denied the divine inspiration of the Vedas and the Puranas, for, as he taught his followers,--"One law has been given to man to guide him in his actions: 13. "Fear the Lord, thy God; bend thy knees only before Him and bring to Him only the offerings which come from thy earnings." 14. Issa denied the Trimurti and the incarnation of Para-Brahma in Vishnu, Siva, and other gods; "for," said he: 15. "The eternal Judge, the eternal Spirit, constitutes the only and indivisible soul of the universe, and it is this soul alone which creates, contains and vivifies all. 16. "He alone has willed and created. He alone has existed from eternity, and His existence will be without end; there is no one like unto Him either in the heavens or on the earth. 17. "The great Creator has divided His power with no other being; far less with inanimate objects, as you have been taught to believe, for He alone is omnipotent and all-sufficient. 18. "He willed, and the world was. By one divine thought, He reunited the waters and separated them from the dry land of the globe. He is the cause of the mysterious life of man, into whom He has breathed part of His divine Being. 19. "And He has put under subjection to man, the lands, the waters, the beasts and everything which He created, and which He himself preserves in immutable order, allotting to each its proper duration. 20. "The anger of God will soon break forth upon man; for he has forgotten his Creator; he has filled His temples with abominations; and he adores a multitude of creatures which God has subordinated to him; 21. "And to gain favor with images of stone and metal, he sacrifices human beings in whom dwells part of the Spirit of the Most High; 22. "And he humiliates those who work in the sweat of their brows, to gain favor in the eyes of the idler who sitteth at a sumptuous table. 23. "Those who deprive their brothers of divine happiness will themselves be deprived of it; and the Brahmins and the Kshatriyas shall become the Sudras of the Sudras, with whom the Eternal will stay forever. 24. "In the day of judgment the Sudras and the Vaisyas will be forgiven for that they knew not the light, while God will let loose his wrath upon those who arrogated his authority." 25. The Vaisyas and the Sudras were filled with great admiration, and asked Issa how they should pray, in order not to lose their hold upon eternal life. 26. "Pray not to idols, for they cannot hear you; hearken not to the Vedas where the truth is altered; be humble and humiliate not your fellow man. 27. "Help the poor, support the weak, do evil to none; covet not that which ye have not and which belongs to others." VI. 1. The white priests and the warriors,[2] who had learned of Issa's discourse to the Sudras, resolved upon his death, and sent their servants to find the young teacher and slay him. 2. But Issa, warned by the Sudras of his danger, left by night Djagguernat, gained the mountain, and settled in the country of the Gautamides, where the great Buddha Sakya-Muni came to the world, among a people who worshipped the only and sublime Brahma. 3. When the just Issa had acquired the Pali language, he applied himself to the study of the sacred scrolls of the Sutras. 4. After six years of study, Issa, whom the Buddha had elected to spread his holy word, could perfectly expound the sacred scrolls. 5. He then left Nepaul and the Himalaya mountains, descended into the valley of Radjipoutan and directed his steps toward the West, everywhere preaching to the people the supreme perfection attainable by man; 6. And the good he must do to his fellow men, which is the sure means of speedy union with the eternal Spirit. "He who has recovered his primitive purity," said Issa, "shall die with his transgressions forgiven and have the right to contemplate the majesty of God." 7. When the divine Issa traversed the territories of the Pagans, he taught that the adoration of visible gods was contrary to natural law. 8. "For to man," said he, "it has not been given to see the image of God, and it behooves him not to make for himself a multitude of divinities in the imagined likeness of the Eternal. 9. "Moreover, it is against human conscience to have less regard for the greatness of divine purity, than for animals or works of stone or metal made by the hands of man. 10. "The eternal Lawgiver is One; there are no other Gods than He; He has parted the world with none, nor had He any counsellor. 11. "Even as a father shows kindness toward his children, so will God judge men after death, in conformity with His merciful laws. He will never humiliate his child by casting his soul for chastisement into the body of a beast. 12. "The heavenly laws," said the Creator, through the mouth of Issa, "are opposed to the immolation of human sacrifices to a statue or an animal; for I, the God, have sacrificed to man all the animals and all that the world contains. 13. "Everything has been sacrificed to man, who is directly and intimately united to me, his Father; therefore, shall the man be severely judged and punished, by my law, who causes the sacrifice of my children. 14. "Man is naught before the eternal Judge; as the animal is before man. 15. "Therefore, I say unto you, leave your idols and perform not ceremonies which separate you from your Father and bind you to the priests, from whom heaven has turned away. 16. "For it is they who have led you away from the true God, and by superstitions and cruelty perverted the spirit and made you blind to the knowledge of the truth." VII. 1. The words of Issa spread among the Pagans, through whose country he passed, and the inhabitants abandoned their idols. 2. Seeing which, the priests demanded of him who thus glorified the name of the true God, that he should, in the presence of the people, prove the charges he made against them, and demonstrate the vanity of their idols. 3. And Issa answered them: "If your idols, or the animals you worship, really possess the supernatural powers you claim, let them strike me with a thunderbolt before you!" 4. "Why dost not thou perform a miracle," replied the priests, "and let thy God confound ours, if He is greater than they?" 5. But Issa said: "The miracles of our God have been wrought from the first day when the universe was created; and are performed every day and every moment; whoso sees them not is deprived of one of the most beautiful gifts of life. 6. "And it is not on inanimate objects of stone, metal or wood that He will let His anger fall, but on the men who worship them, and who, therefore, for their salvation, must destroy the idols they have made. 7. "Even as a stone and a grain of sand, which are naught before man, await patiently their use by Him. 8. "In like manner, man, who is naught before God, must await in resignation His pleasure for a manifestation of His favor. 9. "But woe to you! ye adversaries of men, if it is not the favor you await, but rather the wrath of the Most High; woe to you, if you demand that He attest His power by a miracle! 10. "For it is not the idols which He will destroy in His wrath, but those by whom they were created; their hearts will be the prey of an eternal fire and their flesh shall be given to the beasts of prey. 11. "God will drive away the contaminated animals from His flocks; but will take to Himself those who strayed because they knew not the heavenly part within them." 12. When the Pagans saw that the power of their priests was naught, they put faith in the words of Issa. Fearing the anger of the true God, they broke their idols to pieces and caused their priests to flee from among them. 13. Issa furthermore taught the Pagans that they should not endeavor to see the eternal Spirit with their eyes; but to perceive Him with their hearts, and make themselves worthy of His favors by the purity of their souls. 14. "Not only," he said to them, "must ye refrain from offering human sacrifices, but ye may not lay on the altar any creature to which life has been given, for all things created are for man. 15. "Withhold not from your neighbor his just due, for this would be like stealing from him what he had earned in the sweat of his brow. 16. "Deceive none, that ye may not yourselves be deceived; seek to justify yourselves before the last judgment, for then it will be too late. 17. "Be not given to debauchery, for it is a violation of the law of God. 18. "That you may attain to supreme bliss ye must not only purify yourselves, but must also guide others into the path that will enable them to regain their primitive innocence." VIII. 1. The countries round about were filled with the renown of Issa's preachings, and when he came unto Persia, the priests grew afraid and forbade the people hearing him; 2. Nevertheless, the villages received him with joy, and the people hearkened intently to his words, which, being seen by the priests, caused them to order that he should be arrested and brought before their High Priest, who asked him: 3. "Of what new God dost thou speak? Knowest thou not, unfortunate man that thou art! that Saint Zoroaster is the only Just One, to whom alone was vouchsafed the honor of receiving revelations from the Most High; 4. "By whose command the angels compiled His Word in laws for the governance of His people, which were given to Zoroaster in Paradise? 5. "Who, then, art thou, who darest to utter blasphemies against our God and sow doubt in the hearts of believers?" 6. And Issa said to them: "I preach no new God, but our celestial Father, who has existed before the beginning and will exist until after the end. 7. "Of Him I have spoken to the people, who--even as innocent children--are incapable of comprehending God by their own intelligence, or fathoming the sublimity of the divine Spirit; 8. "But, as the newborn child in the night recognizes the mother's breast, so your people, held in the darkness of error by your pernicious doctrines and religious ceremonies, have recognized instinctively their Father, in the Father whose prophet I am. 9. "The eternal Being says to your people, by my mouth, 'Ye shall not adore the sun, for it is but a part of the universe which I have created for man; 10. "It rises to warm you during your work; it sets to accord to you the rest that I have ordained. 11. "To me only ye owe all that ye possess, all that surrounds you and that is above and below you.'" 12. "But," said the priests, "how could the people live according to your rules if they had no teachers?" 13. Whereupon Issa answered: "So long as they had no priests, they were governed by the natural law and conserved the simplicity of their souls; 14. "Their souls were in God and to commune with the Father they had not to have recourse to the intermediation of idols, or animals, or fire, as taught by you. 15. "Ye pretend that man must adore the sun, and the Genii of Good and Evil. But I say unto you that your doctrine is pernicious. The sun does not act spontaneously, but by the will of the invisible Creator, who has given to it being." 16. "Who, then, has caused that this star lights the day, warms man at his work and vivifies the seeds sown in the ground?" 17. "The eternal Spirit is the soul of everything animate, and you commit a great sin in dividing Him into the Spirit of Evil and the Spirit of Good, for there is no God other than the God of Good. 18. "And He, like to the father of a family, does only good to His children, to whom He forgives their transgressions if they repent of them. 19. "And the Spirit of Evil dwells upon earth, in the hearts of those who turn the children of God away from the right path. 20. "Therefore, I say unto you; Fear the day of judgment, for God will inflict a terrible chastisement upon all those who have led His children astray and beguiled them with superstitions and errors; 21. "Upon those who have blinded them who saw; who have brought contagion to the well; who have taught the worship of those things which God made to be subject to man, or to aid him in his works. 22. "Your doctrine is the fruit of your error in seeking to bring near to you the God of Truth, by creating for yourselves false gods." 23. When the Magi heard these words, they feared to themselves do him harm, but at night, when the whole city slept, they brought him outside the walls and left him on the highway, in the hope that he would not fail to become the prey of wild beasts. 24. But, protected by the Lord our God, Saint Issa continued on his way, without accident. IX. 1. Issa--whom the Creator had selected to recall to the worship of the true God, men sunk in sin--was twenty-nine years old when he arrived in the land of Israel. 2. Since the departure therefrom of Issa, the Pagans had caused the Israelites to endure more atrocious sufferings than before, and they were filled with despair. 3. Many among them had begun to neglect the laws of their God and those of Mossa, in the hope of winning the favor of their brutal conquerors. 4. But Issa, notwithstanding their unhappy condition, exhorted his countrymen not to despair, because the day of their redemption from the yoke of sin was near, and he himself, by his example, confirmed their faith in the God of their fathers. 5. "Children, yield not yourselves to despair," said the celestial Father to them, through the mouth of Issa, "for I have heard your lamentations, and your cries have reached my ears. 6. "Weep not, oh, my beloved sons! for your griefs have touched the heart of your Father and He has forgiven you, as He forgave your ancestors. 7. "Forsake not your families to plunge into debauchery; stain not the nobility of your souls; adore not idols which cannot but remain deaf to your supplications. 8. "Fill my temple with your hope and your patience, and do not adjure the religion of your forefathers, for I have guided them and bestowed upon them of my beneficence. 9. "Lift up those who are fallen; feed the hungry and help the sick, that ye may be altogether pure and just in the day of the last judgment which I prepare for you." 10. The Israelites came in multitudes to listen to Issa's words; and they asked him where they should thank their Heavenly Father, since their enemies had demolished their temples and robbed them of their sacred vessels. 11. Issa told them that God cared not for temples erected by human hands, but that human hearts were the true temples of God. 12. "Enter into your temple, into your heart; illuminate it with good thoughts, with patience and the unshakeable faith which you owe to your Father. 13. "And your sacred vessels! they are your hands and your eyes. Look to do that which is agreeable to God, for in doing good to your fellow men, you perform a ceremony that embellishes the temple wherein abideth Him who has created you. 14. "For God has created you in His own image, innocent, with pure souls, and hearts filled with kindness and not made for the planning of evil, but to be the sanctuaries of love and justice. 15. "Therefore, I say unto you, soil not your hearts with evil, for in them the eternal Being abides. 16. "When ye do works of devotion and love, let them be with full hearts, and see that the motives of your actions be not hopes of gain or self-interest; 17. "For actions, so impelled, will not bring you nearer to salvation, but lead to a state of moral degradation wherein theft, lying and murder pass for generous deeds." X. 1. Issa went from one city to another, strengthening by the word of God the courage of the Israelites, who were near to succumbing under their weight of woe, and thousands of the people followed him to hear his teachings. 2. But the chiefs of the cities were afraid of him and they informed the principal governor, residing in Jerusalem, that a man called Issa had arrived in the country, who by his sermons had arrayed the people against the authorities, and that multitudes, listening assiduously to him, neglected their labor; and, they added, he said that in a short time they would be free of their invader rulers. 3. Then Pilate, the Governor of Jerusalem, gave orders that they should lay hold of the preacher Issa and bring him before the judges. In order, however, not to excite the anger of the populace, Pilate directed that he should be judged by the priests and scribes, the Hebrew elders, in their temple. 4. Meanwhile, Issa, continuing his preaching, arrived at Jerusalem, and the people, who already knew his fame, having learned of his coming, went out to meet him. 5. They greeted him respectfully and opened to him the doors of their temple, to hear from his mouth what he had said in other cities of Israel. 6. And Issa said to them: "The human race perishes, because of the lack of faith; for the darkness and the tempest have caused the flock to go astray and they have lost their shepherds. 7. "But the tempests do not rage forever and the darkness will not hide the light eternally; soon the sky will become serene, the celestial light will again overspread the earth, and the strayed flock will reunite around their shepherd. 8. "Wander not in the darkness, seeking the way, lest ye fall into the ditch; but gather together, sustain one another, put your faith in your God and wait for the first glimmer of light to reappear. 9. "He who sustains his neighbor, sustains himself; and he who protects his family, protects all his people and his country. 10. "For, be assured that the day is near when you will be delivered from the darkness; you will be reunited into one family and your enemy will tremble with fear, he who is ignorant of the favor of the great God." 11. The priests and the elders who heard him, filled with admiration for his language, asked him if it was true that he had sought to raise the people against the authorities of the country, as had been reported to the governor Pilate. 12. "Can one raise against estrayed men, to whom darkness has hidden their road and their door?" answered Issa. "I have but forewarned the unhappy, as I do here in this temple, that they should no longer advance on the dark road, for an abyss opens before their feet. 13. "The power of this earth is not of long duration and is subject to numberless changes. It would be of no avail for a man to rise in revolution against it, for one phase of it always succeeds another, and it is thus that it will go on until the extinction of human life. 14. "But do you not see that the powerful, and the rich, sow among the children of Israel a spirit of rebellion against the eternal power of Heaven?" 15. Then the elders asked him: "Who art thou, and from what country hast thou come to us? We have not formerly heard thee spoken of and do not even know thy name!" 16. "I am an Israelite," answered Issa; "and on the day of my birth have seen the walls of Jerusalem, and have heard the sobs of my brothers reduced to slavery, and the lamentations of my sisters carried away by the Pagans; 17. "And my soul was afflicted when I saw that my brethren had forgotten the true God. When a child I left my father's house to go and settle among other people. 18. "But, having heard it said that my brethren suffered even greater miseries now, I have come back to the land of my fathers, to recall my brethren to the faith of their ancestors, which teaches us patience upon earth in order to attain the perfect and supreme bliss above." 19. Then the wise old men put to him again this question: "We are told that thou disownest the laws of Mossa, and that thou teachest the people to forsake the temple of God?" 20. Whereupon Issa: "One does not demolish that which has been given by our Heavenly Father, and which has been destroyed by sinners. I have but enjoined the people to purify the heart of all stains, for it is the veritable temple of God. 21. "As regards the laws of Mossa, I have endeavored to reestablish them in the hearts of men; and I say unto you that ye ignore their true meaning, for it is not vengeance but pardon which they teach. Their sense has been perverted." XI. 1. When the priests and the elders heard Issa, they decided among themselves not to give judgment against him, for he had done no harm to any one, and, presenting themselves before Pilate--who was made Governor of Jerusalem by the Pagan king of the country of Romeles--they spake to him thus: 2. "We have seen the man whom thou chargest with inciting our people to revolt; we have heard his discourses and know that he is our countryman; 3. "But the chiefs of the cities have made to you false reports, for he is a just man, who teaches the people the word of God. After interrogating him, we have allowed him to go in peace." 4. The governor thereupon became very angry, and sent his disguised spies to keep watch upon Issa and report to the authorities the least word he addressed to the people. 5. In the meantime, the holy Issa continued to visit the neighboring cities and preach the true way of the Lord, enjoining the Hebrews' patience and promising them speedy deliverance. 6. And all the time great numbers of the people followed him wherever he went, and many did not leave him at all, but attached themselves to him and served him. 7. And Issa said: "Put not your faith in miracles performed by the hands of men, for He who rules nature is alone capable of doing supernatural things, while man is impotent to arrest the wrath of the winds or cause the rain to fall. 8. "One miracle, however, is within the power of man to accomplish. It is, when his heart is filled with sincere faith, he resolves to root out from his mind all evil promptings and desires, and when, in order to attain this end, he ceases to walk the path of iniquity. 9. "All the things done without God are only gross errors, illusions and seductions, serving but to show how much the heart of the doer is full of presumption, falsehood and impurity. 10. "Put not your faith in oracles. God alone knows the future. He who has recourse to the diviners soils the temple of his heart and shows his lack of faith in his Creator. 11. "Belief in the diviners and their miracles destroys the innate simplicity of man and his childlike purity. An infernal power takes hold of him who so errs, and forces him to commit various sins and give himself to the worship of idols. 12. "But the Lord our God, to whom none can be equalled, is one omnipotent, omniscient and omnipresent; He alone possesses all wisdom and all light. 13. "To Him ye must address yourselves, to be comforted in your afflictions, aided in your works, healed in your sickness and whoso asks of Him, shall not ask in vain. 14. "The secrets of nature are in the hands of God, for the whole world, before it was made manifest, existed in the bosom of the divine thought, and has become material and visible by the will of the Most High. 15. "When ye pray to him, become again like little children, for ye know neither the past, nor the present, nor the future, and God is the Lord of Time." XII. 1. "Just man," said to him the disguised spies of the Governor of Jerusalem, "tell us if we must continue to do the will of Cæsar, or expect our near deliverance?" 2. And Issa, who recognized the questioners as the apostate spies sent to follow him, replied to them: "I have not told you that you would be delivered from Cæsar; it is the soul sunk in error which will gain its deliverance. 3. "There cannot be a family without a head, and there cannot be order in a people without a Cæsar, whom ye should implicitly obey, as he will be held to answer for his acts before the Supreme Tribunal." 4. "Does Cæsar possess a divine right?" the spies asked him again; "and is he the best of mortals?" 5. "There is no one 'the best' among human beings; but there are many bad, who--even as the sick need physicians--require the care of those chosen for that mission, in which must be used the means given by the sacred law of our Heavenly Father; 6. "Mercy and justice are the high prerogatives of Cæsar, and his name will be illustrious if he exercises them. 7. "But he who acts otherwise, who transcends the limits of power he has over those under his rule, and even goes so far as to put their lives in danger, offends the great Judge and derogates from his own dignity in the eyes of men." 8. Upon this, an old woman who had approached the group, to better hear Issa, was pushed aside by one of the disguised men, who placed himself before her. 9. Then said Issa: "It is not good for a son to push away his mother, that he may occupy the place which belongs to her. Whoso doth not respect his mother--the most sacred being after his God--is unworthy of the name of son. 10. "Hearken to what I say to you: Respect woman; for in her we see the mother of the universe, and all the truth of divine creation is to come through her. 11. "She is the fount of everything good and beautiful, as she is also the germ of life and death. Upon her man depends in all his existence, for she is his moral and natural support in his labors. 12. "In pain and suffering she brings you forth; in the sweat of her brow she watches over your growth, and until her death you cause her greatest anxieties. Bless her and adore her, for she is your only friend and support on earth. 13. "Respect her; defend her. In so doing you will gain for yourself her love; you will find favor before God, and for her sake many sins will be remitted to you. 14. "Love your wives and respect them, for they will be the mothers of tomorrow and later the grandmothers of a whole nation. 15. "Be submissive to the wife; her love ennobles man, softens his hardened heart, tames the wild beast in him and changes it to a lamb. 16. "Wife and mother are the priceless treasures which God has given to you. They are the most beautiful ornaments of the universe, and from them will be born all who will inhabit the world. 17. "Even as the Lord of Hosts separated the light from the darkness, and the dry land from the waters, so does woman possess the divine gift of calling forth out of man's evil nature all the good that is in him. 18. "Therefore I say unto you, after God, to woman must belong your best thoughts, for she is the divine temple where you will most easily obtain perfect happiness. 19. "Draw from this temple your moral force. There you will forget your sorrows and your failures, and recover the love necessary to aid your fellow men. 20. "Suffer her not to be humiliated, for by humiliating her you humiliate yourselves, and lose the sentiment of love, without which nothing can exist here on earth. 21. "Protect your wife, that she may protect you--you and all your household. All that you do for your mothers, your wives, for a widow, or for any other woman in distress, you will do for your God." XIII. 1. Thus Saint Issa taught the people of Israel for three years, in every city and every village, on the highways and in the fields, and all he said came to pass. 2. All this time the disguised spies of the governor Pilate observed him closely, but heard nothing to sustain the accusations formerly made against Issa by the chiefs of the cities. 3. But Saint Issa's growing popularity did not allow Pilate to rest. He feared that Issa would be instrumental in bringing about a revolution culminating in his elevation to the sovereignty, and, therefore, ordered the spies to make charges against him. 4. Then soldiers were sent to arrest him, and they cast him into a subterranean dungeon, where he was subjected to all kinds of tortures, to compel him to accuse himself, so that he might be put to death. 5. The Saint, thinking only of the perfect bliss of his brethren, endured all those torments with resignation to the will of the Creator. 6. The servants of Pilate continued to torture him, and he was reduced to a state of extreme weakness; but God was with him and did not permit him to die at their hands. 7. When the principal priests and wise elders learned of the sufferings which their Saint endured, they went to Pilate, begging him to liberate Issa, so that he might attend the great festival which was near at hand. 8. But this the governor refused. Then they asked him that Issa should be brought before the elders' council, so that he might be condemned, or acquitted, before the festival, and to this Pilate agreed. 9. On the following day the governor assembled the principal chiefs, priests, elders and judges, for the purpose of judging Issa. 10. The Saint was brought from his prison. They made him sit before the governor, between two robbers, who were to be judged at the same time with Issa, so as to show the people he was not the only one to be condemned. 11. And Pilate, addressing himself to Issa, said, "Is it true, Oh! Man; that thou incitest the populace against the authorities, with the purpose of thyself becoming King of Israel?" 12. Issa replied, "One does not become king by one's own purpose thereto. They have told you an untruth when you were informed that I was inciting the people to revolution. I have only preached of the King of Heaven, and it was Him whom I told the people to worship. 13. "For the sons of Israel have lost their original innocence and unless they return to worship the true God they will be sacrificed and their temple will fall in ruins. 14. "The worldly power upholds order in the land; I told them not to forget this. I said to them, 'Live in conformity with your situation and refrain from disturbing public order;' and, at the same time, I exhorted them to remember that disorder reigned in their own hearts and spirits. 15. "Therefore, the King of Heaven has punished them, and has destroyed their nationality and taken from them their national kings, 'but,' I added, 'if you will be resigned to your fate, as a reward the Kingdom of Heaven will be yours.'" 16. At this moment the witnesses were introduced; one of whom deposed thus: "Thou hast said to the people that in comparison with the power of the king who would soon liberate the Israelites from the yoke of the heathen, the worldly authorities amounted to nothing." 17. "Blessings upon thee!" said Issa. "For thou hast spoken the truth! The King of Heaven is greater and more powerful than the laws of man and His kingdom surpasses the kingdoms of this earth. 18. "And the time is not far off, when Israel, obedient to the will of God, will throw off its yoke of sin; for it has been written that a forerunner would appear to announce the deliverance of the people, and that he would reunite them in one family." 19. Thereupon the governor said to the judges: "Have you heard this? The Israelite Issa acknowledges the crime of which he is accused. Judge him, then, according to your laws and pass upon him condemnation to death." 20. "We cannot condemn him," replied the priests and the ancients. "As thou hast heard, he spoke of the King of Heaven, and he has preached nothing which constitutes insubordination against the law." 21. Thereupon the governor called a witness who had been bribed by his master, Pilate, to betray Issa, and this man said to Issa: "Is it not true that thou hast represented thyself as a King of Israel, when thou didst say that He who reigns in Heaven sent thee to prepare His people?" 22. But Issa blessed the man and answered: "Thou wilt find mercy, for what thou hast said did not come out from thine own heart." Then, turning to the governor he said: "Why dost thou lower thy dignity and teach thy inferiors to tell falsehood, when, without doing so, it is in thy power to condemn an innocent man?" 23. When Pilate heard his words, he became greatly enraged and ordered that Issa be condemned to death, and that the two robbers should be declared guiltless. 24. The judges, after consulting among themselves, said to Pilate: "We cannot consent to take this great sin upon us,--to condemn an innocent man and liberate malefactors. It would be against our laws. 25. "Act thyself, then, as thou seest fit." Thereupon the priests and elders walked out, and washed their hands in a sacred vessel, and said: "We are innocent of the blood of this righteous man." XIV. 1. By order of the governor, the soldiers seized Issa and the two robbers, and led them to the place of execution, where they were nailed upon the crosses erected for them. 2. All day long the bodies of Issa and the two robbers hung upon the crosses, bleeding, guarded by the soldiers. The people stood all around and the relatives of the executed prayed and wept. 3. When the sun went down, Issa's tortures ended. He lost consciousness and his soul disengaged itself from the body, to reunite with God. 4. Thus ended the terrestrial existence of the reflection of the eternal Spirit under the form of a man who had saved hardened sinners and comforted the afflicted. 5. Meanwhile, Pilate was afraid for what he had done, and ordered the body of the Saint to be given to his relatives, who put it in a tomb near to the place of execution. Great numbers of persons came to visit the tomb, and the air was filled with their wailings and lamentations. 6. Three days later, the governor sent his soldiers to remove Issa's body and bury it in some other place, for he feared a rebellion among the people. 7. The next day, when the people came to the tomb, they found it open and empty, the body of Issa being gone. Thereupon, the rumor spread that the Supreme Judge had sent His angels from Heaven, to remove the mortal remains of the saint in whom part of the divine Spirit had lived on earth. 8. When Pilate learned of this rumor, he grew angry and prohibited, under penalty of death, the naming of Issa, or praying for him to the Lord. 9. But the people, nevertheless, continued to weep over Issa's death and to glorify their master; wherefore, many were carried into captivity, subjected to torture and put to death. 10. And the disciples of Saint Issa departed from the land of Israel and went in all directions, to the heathen, preaching that they should abandon their gross errors, think of the salvation of their souls and earn the perfect bliss which awaits human beings in the immaterial world, full of glory, where the great Creator abides in all his immaculate and perfect majesty. 11. The heathen, their kings, and their warriors, listened to the preachers, abandoned their erroneous beliefs and forsook their priests and their idols, to celebrate the praises of the most wise Creator of the Universe, the King of Kings, whose heart is filled with infinite mercy. _Resumé_ In reading the account of the life of Issa (Jesus Christ), one is struck, on the one hand by the resemblance of certain principal passages to accounts in the Old and New Testaments; and, on the other, by the not less remarkable contradictions which occasionally occur between the Buddhistic version and Hebraic and Christian records. To explain this, it is necessary to remember the epochs when the facts were consigned to writing. We have been taught, from our childhood, that the Pentateuch was written by Moses himself, but the careful researches of modern scholars have demonstrated conclusively, that at the time of Moses, and even much later, there existed in the country bathed by the Mediterranean, no other writing than the hieroglyphics in Egypt and the cuniform inscriptions, found nowadays in the excavations of Babylon. We know, however, that the alphabet and parchment were known in China and India long before Moses. Let me cite a few proofs of this statement. We learn from the sacred books of "the religion of the wise" that the alphabet was invented in China in 2800 by Fou-si, who was the first emperor of China to embrace this religion, the ritual and exterior forms of which he himself arranged. Yao, the fourth of the Chinese emperors, who is said to have belonged to this faith, published moral and civil laws, and, in 2228, compiled a penal code. The fifth emperor, Soune, proclaimed in the year of his accession to the throne that "the religion of the wise" should thenceforth be the recognized religion of the State, and, in 2282, compiled new penal laws. His laws, modified by the Emperor Vou-vange,--founder of the dynasty of the Tcheou in 1122,--are those in existence today, and known under the name of "Changements." We also know that the doctrine of the Buddha Fô, whose true name was Sakya-Muni was written upon parchment. Fôism began to spread in China about 260 years before Jesus Christ. In 206, an emperor of the Tsine dynasty, who was anxious to learn Buddhism, sent to India for a Buddhist by the name of Silifan, and the Emperor Ming-Ti, of the Hagne dynasty, sent, a year before Christ's birth, to India for the sacred books written by the Buddha Sakya-Muni--the founder of the Buddhistic doctrine, who lived about 1200 before Christ. The doctrine of the Buddha Gauthama or Gothama, who lived 600 years before Jesus Christ, was written in the Pali language upon parchment. At that epoch there existed already in India about 84,000 Buddhistic manuscripts, the compilation of which required a considerable number of years. At the time when the Chinese and the Hindus possessed already a very rich written literature, the less fortunate or more ignorant peoples who had no alphabet, transmitted their histories from mouth to mouth, and from generation to generation. Owing to the unreliability of human memory, historical facts, embellished by Oriental imagination, soon degenerated into fabulous legends, which, in the course of time, were collected, and by the unknown compilers entitled "The Five Books of Moses." As these legends ascribe to the Hebrew legislator extraordinary divine powers which enabled him to perform miracles in the presence of Pharaoh, the claim that he was an Israelite may as well have been legendary rather than historical. The Hindu chroniclers, on the contrary, owing to their knowledge of an alphabet, were enabled to commit carefully to writing, not mere legends, but the recitals of recently occurred facts within their own knowledge, or the accounts brought to them by merchants who came from foreign countries. It must be remembered, in this connection, that--in antiquity as in our own days--the whole public life of the Orient was concentrated in the bazaars. There the news of foreign events was brought by the merchant-caravans and sought by the dervishes, who found, in their recitals in the temples and public places, a means of subsistence. When the merchants returned home from a journey, they generally related fully during the first days after their arrival, all they had seen or heard abroad. Such have been the customs of the Orient, from time immemorial, and are today. The commerce of India with Egypt and, later, with Europe, was carried on by way of Jerusalem, where, as far back as the time of King Solomon, the Hindu caravans brought precious metals and other materials for the construction of the temple. From Europe, merchandise was brought to Jerusalem by sea, and there unloaded in a port, which is now occupied by the city of Jaffa. The chronicles in question were compiled before, during and after the time of Jesus Christ. During his sojourn in India, in the quality of a simple student come to learn the Brahminical and Buddhistic laws, no special attention whatever was paid to his life. When, however, a little later, the first accounts of the events in Israel reached India, the chroniclers, after committing to writing that which they were told about the prophet, Issa,--_viz._, that he had for his following a whole people, weary of the yoke of their masters, and that he was crucified by order of Pilate, remembered that this same Issa had only recently sojourned in their midst, and that, an Israelite by birth, he had come to study among them, after which he had returned to his country. They conceived a lively interest for the man who had grown so rapidly under their eyes, and began to investigate his birth, his past and all the details concerning his existence. The two manuscripts, from which the lama of the convent Himis read to me all that had a bearing upon Jesus, are compilations from divers copies written in the Thibetan language, translations of scrolls belonging to the library of Lhassa and brought, about two hundred years after Christ, from India, Nepaul and Maghada, to a convent on Mount Marbour, near the city of Lhassa, now the residence of the Dalai-Lama. These scrolls were written in Pali, which certain lamas study even now, so as to be able to translate it into the Thibetan. The chroniclers were Buddhists belonging to the sect of the Buddha Gothama. The details concerning Jesus, given in the chronicles, are disconnected and mingled with accounts of other contemporaneous events to which they bear no relation. The manuscripts relate to us, first of all,--according to the accounts given by merchants arriving from Judea in the same year when the death of Jesus occurred--that a just man by the name of Issa, an Israelite, in spite of his being acquitted twice by the judges as being a man of God, was nevertheless put to death by the order of the Pagan governor, Pilate, who feared that he might take advantage of his great popularity to reestablish the kingdom of Israel and expel from the country its conquerors. Then follow rather incoherent communications regarding the preachings of Jesus among the Guebers and other heathens. They seem to have been written during the first years following the death of Jesus, in whose career a lively and growing interest is shown. One of these accounts, communicated by a merchant, refers to the origin of Jesus and his family; another tells of the expulsion of his partisans and the persecutions they had to suffer. Only at the end of the second volume is found the first categorical affirmation of the chronicler. He says there that Issa was a man blessed by God and the best of all; that it was he in whom the great Brahma had elected to incarnate when, at a period fixed by destiny, his spirit was required to, for a time, separate from the Supreme Being. After telling that Issa descended from poor Israelite parents, the chronicler makes a little digression, for the purpose of explaining, according to ancient accounts, who were those sons of Israel. I have arranged all the fragments concerning the life of Issa in chronological order and have taken pains to impress upon them the character of unity, in which they were absolutely lacking. I leave it to the _savans_, the philosophers and the theologians to search into the causes for the contradictions which may be found between the "Life of Issa" which I lay before the public and the accounts of the Gospels. But I trust that everybody will agree with me in assuming that the version which I present to the public, one compiled three or four years after the death of Jesus, from the accounts of eyewitnesses and contemporaries, has much more probability of being in conformity with truth than the accounts of the Gospels, the composition of which was effected at different epochs and at periods much posterior to the occurrence of the events. Before speaking of the life of Jesus, I must say a few words on the history of Moses, who, according to the so-far most accredited legend, was an Israelite. In this respect the legend is contradicted by the Buddhists. We learn from the outset that Moses was an Egyptian prince, the son of a Pharaoh, and that he only was taught by learned Israelites. I believe that if this important point is carefully examined, it must be admitted that the Buddhist author may be right. It is not my intent to argue against the Biblical legend concerning the origin of Moses, but I think everyone reading it must share my conviction that Moses could not have been a simple Israelite. His education was rather that of a king's son, and it is difficult to believe that a child introduced by chance into the palace should have been made an equal with the son of the sovereign. The rigor with which the Egyptians treated their slaves by no means attests the mildness of their character. A foundling certainly would not have been made the companion of the sons of a Pharaoh, but would be placed among his servants. Add to this the caste spirit so strictly observed in ancient Egypt, a most salient point, which is certainly calculated to raise doubts as to the truth of the Scriptural story. And it is difficult to suppose that Moses had not received a complete education. How otherwise could his great legislative work, his broad views, his high administrative qualities be satisfactorily explained? And now comes another question: Why should he, a prince, have attached himself to the Israelites? The answer seems to me very simple. It is known that in ancient, as well as in modern times, discussions were often raised as to which of two brothers should succeed to the father's throne. Why not admit this hypothesis, _viz._, that Mossa, or Moses, having an elder brother whose existence forbade him to think of occupying the throne of Egypt, contemplated founding a distinct kingdom. It might very well be that, in view of this end, he tried to attach himself to the Israelites, whose firmness of faith as well as physical strength he had occasion to admire. We know, indeed, that the Israelites of Egypt had no resemblance whatever to their descendants as regards physical constitution. The granite blocks which were handled by them in building the palaces and pyramids are still in place to testify to this fact. In the same way I explain to myself the history of the miracles which he is said to have performed before Pharaoh. Although there are no definite arguments for denying the miracles which Moses might have performed in the name of God before Pharaoh, I think it is not difficult to realize that the Buddhistic statement sounds more probable than the Scriptural gloss. The pestilence, the smallpox or the cholera must, indeed, have caused enormous ravages among the dense population of Egypt, at an epoch when there existed yet but very rudimentary ideas about hygiene and where, consequently, such diseases must have rapidly assumed frightful virulence. In view of Pharaoh's fright at the disasters which befell Egypt, Moses' keen wit might well have suggested to him to explain the strange and terrifying occurrences, to his father, by the intervention of the God of Israel in behalf of his chosen people. Moses was here afforded an excellent opportunity to deliver the Israelites from their slavery and have them pass under his own domination. In obedience to Pharaoh's will--according to the Buddhistic version--Moses led the Israelites outside the walls of the city; but, instead of building a new city within reach of the capital, as he was ordered, he left with them the Egyptian territory. Pharaoh's indignation on learning of this infringement of his commands by Moses, can easily be imagined. And so he gave the order to his soldiers to pursue the fugitives. The geographical disposition of the region suggests at once that Moses during his flight must have moved by the side of the mountains and entered Arabia by the way over the Isthmus which is now cut by the Suez Canal. Pharaoh, on the contrary, pursued, with his troops, a straight line to the Red Sea; then, in order to overtake the Israelites, who had already gained the opposite shore, he sought to take advantage of the ebb of the sea in the Gulf, which is formed by the coast and the Isthmus, and caused his soldiers to wade through the ford. But the length of the passage proved much greater than he had expected; so that the flood tide set in when the Egyptian host was halfway across, and, of the army thus overwhelmed by the returning waves, none escaped death. This fact, so simple in itself, has in the course of the centuries been transformed by the Israelites into a religious legend, they seeing in it a divine intervention in their behalf and a punishment which their God inflicted on their persecutors. There is, moreover, reason to believe that Moses himself saw the occurrence in this light. This, however, is a thesis which I shall try to develop in a forthcoming work. The Buddhistic chronicle then describes the grandeur and the downfall of the kingdom of Israel, and its conquest by the foreign nations who reduced the inhabitants to slavery. The calamities which befell the Israelites, and the afflictions that thenceforth embittered their days were, according to the chronicler, more than sufficient reasons that God, pitying his people and desirous of coming to their aid, should descend on earth in the person of a prophet, in order to lead them back to the path of righteousness. Thus the state of things in that epoch justified the belief that the coming of Jesus was signalized, imminent, necessary. This explains why the Buddhistic traditions could maintain that the eternal Spirit separated from the eternal Being and incarnated in the child of a pious and once illustrious family. Doubtless the Buddhists, in common with the Evangelists, meant to convey by this that the child belonged to the royal house of David; but the text in the Gospels, according to which "the child was born from the Holy Spirit," admits of two interpretations, while according to Buddha's doctrine, which is more in conformity with the laws of nature, the spirit has but incarnated in a child already born, whom God blessed and chose for the accomplishment of His mission on earth. The birth of Jesus is followed by a long gap in the traditions of the Evangelists, who either from ignorance or neglect, fail to tell us anything definite about his childhood, youth or education. They commence the history of Jesus with his first sermon, _i.e._, at the epoch, when thirty years of age, he returns to his country. All the Evangelists tell us concerning the infancy of Jesus is marked by the lack of precision: "And the child grew, and waxed strong in spirit, filled with wisdom; and the grace of God was upon him," says one of the sacred authors (Luke 2, 40), and another: "And the child grew, and waxed strong in spirit, and was in the deserts till the day of his shewing unto Israel." (Luke 1, 80.) As the Evangelists compiled their writings a long time after the death of Jesus, it is presumable that they committed to writing only those accounts of the principal events in the life of Jesus which happened to come to their knowledge. The Buddhists, on the contrary, who compiled their chronicles soon after the Passion occurred, and were able to collect the surest information about everything that interested them, give us a complete and very detailed description of the life of Jesus. In those unhappy times, when the struggle for existence seems to have destroyed all thought of God, the people of Israel suffered the double oppression of the ambitious Herod and the despotic and avaricious Romans. Then, as now, the Hebrews put all their hopes in Providence, whom they expected, would send them an inspired man, who should deliver them from all their physical and moral afflictions. The time passed, however, and no one took the initiative in a revolt against the tyranny of the rulers. In that era of hope and despair, the people of Israel completely forgot that there lived among them a poor Israelite who was a direct descendant from their King David. This poor man married a young girl who gave birth to a miraculous child. The Hebrews, true to their traditions of devotion and respect for the race of their kings, upon learning of this event went in great numbers to congratulate the happy father and see the child. It is evident that Herod was informed of this occurrence. He feared that this infant, once grown to manhood, might avail himself of his prospective popularity to reconquer the throne of his ancestors. He sent out his men to seize the child, which the Israelites endeavored to hide from the wrath of the king, who then ordered the abominable massacre of the children, hoping that Jesus would perish in this vast human hecatomb. But Joseph's family had warning of the impending danger, and took refuge in Egypt. A short time afterward, they returned to their native country. The child had grown during those journeyings, in which his life was more than once exposed to danger. Formerly, as now, the Oriental Israelites commenced the instruction of their children at the age of five or six years. Compelled to constantly hide him from the murderous King Herod, the parents of Jesus could not allow their son to go out, and he, no doubt, spent all his time in studying the sacred Scriptures, so that his knowledge was sufficiently beyond what would naturally have been expected of a boy of his age to greatly astonish the elders of Israel. He had in his thirteenth year attained an age when, according to Jewish law, the boy becomes an adult, has the right to marry, and incurs obligations for the discharge of the religious duties of a man. There exists still, in our times, among the Israelites, an ancient religious custom that fixes the majority of a youth at the accomplished thirteenth year. From this epoch the youth becomes a member of the congregation and enjoys all the rights of an adult. Hence, his marriage at this age is regarded as having legal force, and is even required in the tropical countries. In Europe, however, owing to the influence of local laws and to nature, which does not contribute here so powerfully as in warm climates to the physical development, this custom is no more in force and has lost all its former importance. The royal lineage of Jesus, his rare intelligence and his learning, caused him to be looked upon as an excellent match, and the wealthiest and most respected Hebrews would fain have had him for a son-in-law, just as even nowadays the Israelites are very desirous of the honor of marrying their daughters to the sons of Rabbis or scholars. But the meditative youth, whose mind was far above anything corporeal, and possessed by the thirst for knowledge, stealthily left his home and joined the caravans going to India. It stands to reason that Jesus Christ should have thought, primarily, of going to India, first, because at that epoch Egypt formed part of the Roman possessions; secondly, and principally, because a very active commercial exchange with India had made common report in Judea of the majestic character and unsurpassed richness of the arts and sciences in this marvellous country, to which even now the aspirations of all civilized peoples are directed. Here the Evangelists once more lose the thread of the terrestrial life of Jesus. Luke says he "was in the deserts till the day of his shewing unto Israel" (Luke 1, 80), which clearly demonstrates that nobody knew where the holy youth was until his sudden reappearance sixteen years later. Arrived in India, this land of marvels, Jesus began to frequent the temples of the Djainites. There exists until today, on the peninsula of Hindustan, a sectarian cult under the name of Djainism. It forms a kind of connecting link between Buddhism and Brahminism, and preaches the destruction of all other beliefs, which, it declares, are corroded by falsehood. It dates from the seventh century before Jesus Christ and its name is derived from the word "djain" (conqueror), which was assumed by its founders as expressive of its destined triumph over its rivals. In sympathetic admiration for the spirit of the young man, the Djainites asked him to stay with them; but Jesus left them to settle in Djagguernat, where he devoted himself to the study of treatises on religion, philosophy, etc. Djagguernat is one of the chief sacred cities of Brahmins, and, at the time of Christ, was of great religious importance. According to tradition, the ashes of the illustrious Brahmin, Krishna, who lived in 1580 B.C., are preserved there, in the hollow of a tree, near a magnificent temple, to which thousands make pilgrimage every year. Krishna collected and put in order the Vedas, which he divided into four books--Richt, Jagour, Saman and Artafan;--in commemoration of which great work he received the name of Vyasa (he who collected and divided the Vedas), and he also compiled the Vedanta and eighteen Puranas, which contain 400,000 stanzas. In Djagguernat is also found a very precious library of Sanscrit books and religious manuscripts. Jesus spent there six years in studying the language of the country and the Sanscrit, which enabled him to absorb the religious doctrines, philosophy, medicine and mathematics. He found much to blame in Brahminical laws and usages, and publicly joined issue with the Brahmins, who in vain endeavored to convince him of the sacred character of their established customs. Jesus, among other things, deemed it extremely unjust that the laborer should be oppressed and despised, and that he should not only be robbed of hope of future happiness, but also be denied the right to hear the religious services. He, therefore, began preaching to the Sudras, the lowest caste of slaves, telling them that, according to their own laws, God is the Father of all men; that all which exists, exists only through Him; that, before Him, all men are equal, and that the Brahmins had obscured the great principle of monotheism by misinterpreting Brahma's own words, and laying excessive stress upon observance of the exterior ceremonials of the cult. Here are the words in which, according to the doctrine of the Brahmins, God Himself speaks to the angels: "I have been from eternity, and shall continue to be eternally. I am the first cause of everything that exists in the East and in the West, in the North and in the South, above and below, in heaven and in hell. I am older than all things. I am the Spirit and the Creation of the universe and also its Creator. I am all-powerful; I am the God of the Gods, the King of the Kings; I am Para-Brahma, the great soul of the universe." After the world appeared by the will of Para-Brahma, God created human beings, whom he divided into four classes, according to their colors: white (Brahmins), red (Kshatriyas), yellow (Vaisyas), and black (Sudras). Brahma drew the first from his own mouth, and gave them for their _appanage_ the government of the world, the care of teaching men the laws, of curing and judging them. Therefore do the Brahmins occupy only the offices of priests and preachers, are expounders of the Vedas, and must practice celibacy. The second caste of Kshatriyas issued from the hand of Brahma. He made of them warriors, entrusting them with the care of defending society. All the kings, princes, captains, governors and military men belong to this caste, which lives on the best terms with the Brahmins, since they cannot subsist without each other, and the peace of the country depends on the alliance of the lights and the sword, of Brahma's temple and the royal throne. The Vaisyas, who constitute the third caste, issued from Brahma's belly. They are destined to cultivate the ground, raise cattle, carry on commerce and practice all kinds of trades in order to feed the Brahmins and the Kshatriyas. Only on holidays are they authorized to enter the temple and listen to the recital of the Vedas; at all other times they must attend to their business. The lowest caste, that of the black ones, or Sudras, issued from the feet of Brahma to be the humble servants and slaves of the three preceding castes. They are interdicted from attending the reading of the Vedas at any time; their touch contaminates a Brahmin, Kshatriya, or even a Vaisya who comes in contact with them. They are wretched creatures, deprived of all human rights; they cannot even look at the members of the other castes, nor defend themselves, nor, when sick, receive the attendance of a physician. Death alone can deliver the Sudra from a life of servitude; and even then, freedom can only be attained under the condition that, during his whole life, he shall have served diligently and without complaint some member of the privileged classes. Then only it is promised that the soul of the Sudra shall, after death, be raised to a superior caste. If a Sudra has been lacking in obedience to a member of the privileged classes, or has in any way brought their disfavor upon himself, he sinks to the rank of a pariah, who is banished from all cities and villages and is the object of general contempt, as an abject being who can only perform the lowest kind of work. The same punishment may also fall upon members of another caste; these, however, may, through repentance, fasting and other trials, rehabilitate themselves in their former caste; while the unfortunate Sudra, once expelled from his, has lost it forever. From what has been said above, it is easy to explain why the Vaisyas and Sudras were animated with adoration for Jesus, who, in spite of the threats of the Brahmins and Kshatriyas, never forsook those poor people. In his sermons Jesus not only censured the system by which man was robbed of his right to be considered as a human being, while an ape or a piece of marble or metal was paid divine worship, but he attacked the very life of Brahminism, its system of gods, its doctrine and its "trimurti" (trinity), the angular stone of this religion. Para-Brahma is represented with three faces on a single head. This is the "trimurti" (trinity), composed of Brahma (creator), Vishnu (conservator), and Siva (destroyer). Here is the origin of the trimurti:-- In the beginning, Para-Brahma created the waters and threw into them the seed of procreation, which transformed itself into a brilliant egg, wherein Brahma's image was reflected. Millions of years had passed when Brahma split the egg in two halves, of which the upper one became the heaven, the lower one, the earth. Then Brahma descended to the earth under the shape of a child, established himself upon a lotus flower, absorbed himself in his own contemplation and put to himself the question: "Who will attend to the conservation of what I have created?" "I," came the answer from his mouth under the appearance of a flame. And Brahma gave to this word the name, "Vishnu," that is to say, "he who preserves." Then Brahma divided his being into two halves, the one male, the other female, the active and the passive principles, the union of which produced Siva, "the destroyer." These are the attributes of the trimurti; Brahma, creative principle; Vishnu, preservative wisdom; Siva, destructive wrath of justice. Brahma is the substance from which everything was made; Vishnu, space wherein everything lives; and Siva, time that annihilates all things. Brahma is the face which vivifies all; Vishnu, the water which sustains the forces of the creatures; Siva, the fire which breaks the bond that unites all objects. Brahma is the past; Vishnu, the present; Siva, the future. Each part of the trimurti possesses, moreover, a wife. The wife of Brahma is Sarasvati, goddess of wisdom; that of Vishnu, Lakshmi, goddess of virtue, and Siva's spouse is Kali, goddess of death, the universal destroyer. Of this last union were born, Ganesa, the elephant-headed god of wisdom, and Indra, the god of the firmament, both chiefs of inferior divinities, the number of which, if all the objects of adoration of the Hindus be included, amounts to three hundred millions. Vishnu has descended eight times upon the earth, incarnating in a fish in order to save the Vedas from the deluge, in a tortoise, a dwarf, a wild boar, a lion, in Rama, a king's son, in Krishna and in Buddha. He will come a ninth time under the form of a rider mounted on a white horse in order to destroy death and sin. Jesus denied the existence of all these hierarchic absurdities of gods, which darken the great principle of monotheism. When the Brahmins saw that Jesus, who, instead of becoming one of their party, as they had hoped, turned out to be their adversary, and that the people began to embrace his doctrine, they resolved to kill him; but his servants, who were greatly attached to him, forewarned him of the threatening danger, and he took refuge in the mountains of Nepaul. At this epoch, Buddhism had taken deep root in this country. It was a kind of schism, remarkable by its moral principles and ideas on the nature of the divinity--ideas which brought men closer to nature and to one another. Sakya-Muni, the founder of this sect, was born fifteen hundred years before Jesus Christ, at Kapila, the capital of his father's kingdom, near Nepaul, in the Himalayas. He belonged to the race of the Gotamides, and to the ancient family of the Sakyas. From his infancy he evinced a lively interest in religion, and, contrary to his father's wishes, leaving his palace with all its luxury, began at once to preach against the Brahmins, for the purification of their doctrines. He died at Kouçinagara, surrounded by many faithful disciples. His body was burned, and his ashes, divided into several parts, were distributed between the cities, which, on account of his new doctrine, had renounced Brahminism. According to the Buddhistic doctrine, the Creator reposes normally in a state of perfect inaction, which is disturbed by nothing and which he only leaves at certain destiny-determined epochs, in order to create terrestrial buddhas. To this end the Spirit disengages itself from the sovereign Creator, incarnates in a buddha and stays for some time on the earth, where he creates Bodhisattvas (masters),[3] whose mission it is to preach the divine word and to found new churches of believers to whom they will give laws, and for whom they will institute a new religious order according to the traditions of Buddhism. A terrestrial buddha is, in a certain way, a reflection of the sovereign creative Buddha, with whom he unites after the termination of his terrestrial existence. In like manner do the Bodhisattvas, as a reward for their labors and the privations they undergo, receive eternal bliss and enjoy a rest which nothing can disturb. Jesus sojourned six years among the Buddhists, where he found the principle of monotheism still pure. Arrived at the age of twenty-six years, he remembered his fatherland, which was then oppressed by a foreign yoke. On his way homeward, he preached against idol worship, human sacrifice, and other errors of faith, admonishing the people to recognize and adore God, the Father of all beings, to whom all are alike dear, the master as well as the slave; for they all are his children, to whom he has given this beautiful universe for a common heritage. The sermons of Jesus often made a profound impression upon the peoples among whom he came, and he was exposed to all sorts of dangers provoked by the clergy, but was saved by the very idolators who, only the preceding day, had offered their children as sacrifices to their idols. While passing through Persia, Jesus almost caused a revolution among the adorers of Zoroaster's doctrine. Nevertheless, the priests refrained from killing him, out of fear of the people's vengeance. They resorted to artifice, and led him out of town at night, with the hope that he might be devoured by wild beasts. Jesus escaped this peril and arrived safe and sound in the country of Israel. It must be remarked here that the Orientals, amidst their sometimes so picturesque misery, and in the ocean of depravation in which they slumber, always have, under the influence of their priests and teachers, a pronounced inclination for learning and understand easily good common sense explications. It happened to me more than once that, by using simple words of truth, I appealed to the conscience of a thief or some otherwise intractable person. These people, moved by a sentiment of innate honesty,--which the clergy for personal reasons of their own, tried by all means to stifle--soon became again very honest and had only contempt for those who had abused their confidence. By the virtue of a mere word of truth, the whole of India, with its 300,000,000 of idols, could be made a vast Christian country; but ... this beautiful project would, no doubt, be antagonized by certain Christians who, similar to those priests of whom I have spoken before, speculate upon the ignorance of the people to make themselves rich. According to St. Luke, Jesus was about thirty years of age when he began preaching to the Israelites. According to the Buddhistic chroniclers, Jesus's teachings in Judea began in his twenty-ninth year. All his sermons which are not mentioned by the Evangelists, but have been preserved by the Buddhists, are remarkable for their character of divine grandeur. The fame of the new prophet spread rapidly in the country, and Jerusalem awaited with impatience his arrival. When he came near the holy city, its inhabitants went out to meet him, and led him in triumph to the temple; all of which is in agreement with Christian tradition. The chiefs and elders who heard him were filled with admiration for his sermons, and were happy to see the beneficent impression which his words exercised upon the populace. All these remarkable sermons of Jesus are full of sublime sentiments. Pilate, the governor of the country, however, did not look upon the matter in the same light. Eager agents notified him that Jesus announced the near coming of a new kingdom, the reestablishment of the throne of Israel, and that he suffered himself to be called the Son of God, sent to bring back courage in Israel, for he, the King of Judea, would soon ascend the throne of his ancestors. I do not purpose attributing to Jesus the _rôle_ of a revolutionary, but it seems to me very probable that Jesus wrought up the people with a view to reestablish the throne to which he had a just claim. Divinely inspired, and, at the same time, convinced of the legitimacy of his pretentions, Jesus preached the spiritual union of the people in order that a political union might result. Pilate, who felt alarmed over these rumors, called together the priests and the elders of the people and ordered them to interdict Jesus from preaching in public, and even to condemn him in the temple under the charge of apostasy. This was the best means for Pilate to rid himself of a dangerous man, whose royal origin he knew and whose popularity was constantly increasing. It must be said in this connection that the Israelites, far from persecuting Jesus, recognized in him the descendant of the illustrious dynasty of David, and made him the object of their secret hopes, a fact which is evident from the very Gospels which tell that Jesus preached freely in the temple, in the presence of the elders, who could have interdicted him not only the entrance to the temple, but also his preachings. Upon the order of Pilate the Sanhedrim met and cited Jesus to appear before its tribunal. As the result of the inquiry, the members of the Sanhedrim informed Pilate that his suspicions were without any foundation whatever; that Jesus preached a religious, and not a political, propaganda; that he was expounding the Divine word, and that he claimed to have come not to overthrow, but to reestablish the laws of Moses. The Buddhistic record does but confirm this sympathy, which unquestionably existed between the young preacher, Jesus, and the elders of the people of Israel; hence their answer: "We do not judge a just one." Pilate felt not at all assured, and continued seeking an occasion to hale Jesus before a new tribunal, as regular as the former. To this end he caused him to be followed by spies, and finally ordered his arrest. If we may believe the Evangelists, it was the Pharisees who sought the life of Jesus, while the Buddhistic record most positively declares that Pilate alone can be held responsible for his execution. This version is evidently much more probable than the account of the Evangelists. The conquerors of Judea could not long tolerate the presence of a man who announced to the people a speedy deliverance from their yoke. The popularity of Jesus having commenced to disturb Pilate's mind, it is to be supposed that he sent after the young preacher spies, with the order to take note of all his words and acts. Moreover, the servants of the Roman governor, as true "agents provocateurs," endeavored by means of artful questions put to Jesus, to draw from him some imprudent words under color of which Pilate might proceed against him. If the preachings of Jesus had been offensive to the Hebrew priests and scribes, all they needed to do was simply to command the people not to hear and follow him, and to forbid him entrance into the temple. But the Evangelists tell us that Jesus enjoyed great popularity among the Israelites and full liberty in the temples, where Pharisees and scribes discussed with him. In order to find a valid excuse for condemning him, Pilate had him tortured so as to extort from him a confession of high treason. But, contrary to the rule that the innocent, overcome by their pain, will confess anything to escape the unendurable agonies inflicted upon them, Jesus made no admission of guilt. Pilate, seeing that the usual tortures were powerless to accomplish the desired result, commanded the executioners to proceed to the last extreme of their diabolic cruelties, meaning to compass the death of Jesus by the complete exhaustion of his forces. Jesus, however, fortifying his endurance by the power of his will and zeal for his righteous cause--which was also that of his people and of God--was unconquerable by all the refinements of cruelty inflicted upon him by his executioners. The infliction of "the question" upon Jesus evoked much feeling among the elders, and they resolved to interfere in his behalf; formally demanding of Pilate that he should be liberated before the Passover. When their request was denied by Pilate they resolved to petition that Jesus should be brought to trial before the Sanhedrim, by whom they did not doubt his acquittal--which was ardently desired by the people--would be ordained. In the eyes of the priests, Jesus was a saint, belonging to the family of David; and his unjust detention, or--what was still more to be dreaded--his condemnation, would have saddened the celebration of the great national festival of the Israelites. They therefore prayed Pilate that the trial of Jesus should take place before the Passover, and to this he acceded. But he ordered that two thieves should be tried at the same time with Jesus, thinking to, in this way, minimize in the eyes of the people, the importance of the fact that the life of an innocent man was being put in jeopardy before the tribunal; and, by not allowing Jesus to be condemned alone, blind the populace to the unjust prearrangement of his condemnation. The accusation against Jesus was founded upon the depositions of the bribed witnesses. During the trial, Pilate availed himself of perversions of Jesus' words concerning the heavenly kingdom, to sustain the charges made against him. He counted, it seems, upon the effect produced by the answers of Jesus, as well as upon his own authority, to influence the members of the tribunal against examining too minutely the details of the case, and to procure from them the sentence of death for which he intimated his desire. Upon hearing the perfectly natural answer of the judges, that the meaning of the words of Jesus was diametrically opposed to the accusation, and that there was nothing in them to warrant his condemnation, Pilate employed his final resource for prejudicing the trial, viz., the deposition of a purchased traitorous informer. This miserable wretch--who was, no doubt, Judas--accused Jesus formally, of having incited the people to rebellion. Then followed a scene of unsurpassed sublimity. When Judas gave his testimony, Jesus, turning toward him, and giving him his blessing, says: "Thou wilt find mercy, for what thou has said did not come out from thine own heart!" Then, addressing himself to the governor: "Why dost thou lower thy dignity, and teach thy inferiors to tell falsehood, when without doing so it is in thy power to condemn an innocent man?" Words touching as sublime! Jesus Christ here manifests all the grandeur of his soul by pardoning his betrayer, and he reproaches Pilate with having resorted to such means, unworthy of his dignity, to attain his end. This keen reproach enraged the governor, and caused him to completely forget his position, and the prudent policy with which he had meant to evade personal responsibility for the crime he contemplated. He now imperiously demanded the conviction of Jesus, and, as though he intended to make a display of his power, to overawe the judges, ordered the acquittal of the two thieves. The judges, seeing the injustice of Pilate's demand, that they should acquit the malefactors and condemn the innocent Jesus, refused to commit this double crime against their consciences and their laws. But as they could not cope with one who possessed the authority of final judgment, and saw that he was firmly decided to rid himself, by whatever means, of a man who had fallen under the suspicions of the Roman authorities, they left him to himself pronounce the verdict for which he was so anxious. In order, however, that the people might not suspect them of sharing the responsibility for such unjust judgment, which would not readily have been forgiven, they, in leaving the court, performed the ceremony of washing their hands, symbolizing the affirmation that they were clean of the blood of the innocent Jesus, the beloved of the people. About ten years ago, I read in a German journal, the _Fremdenblatt_, an article on Judas, wherein the author endeavored to demonstrate that the informer had been the best friend of Jesus. According to him, it was out of love for his master that Judas betrayed him, for he put blind faith in the words of the Saviour, who said that his kingdom would arrive after his execution. But after seeing him on the cross, and having waited in vain for the resurrection of Jesus, which he expected to immediately take place, Judas, not able to bear the pain by which his heart was torn, committed suicide by hanging himself. It would be profitless to dwell upon this ingenious product of a fertile imagination. To take up again the accounts of the Gospels and the Buddhistic chronicle, it is very possible that the bribed informer was really Judas, although the Buddhistic version is silent on this point. As to the pangs of conscience which are said to have impelled the informer to suicide, I must say that I give no credence to them. A man capable of committing so vile and cowardly an action as that of making an infamously false accusation against his friend, and this, not out of a spirit of jealousy, or for revenge, but to gain a handful of shekels! such a man is, from the psychic point of view, of very little worth. He ignores honesty and conscience, and pangs of remorse are unknown to him. It is presumable that the governor treated him as is sometimes done in our days, when it is deemed desirable to effectually conceal state secrets known to men of his kind and presumably unsafe in their keeping. Judas probably was simply hanged, by Pilate's order, to prevent the possibility of his some day revealing that the plot of which Jesus was a victim had been inspired by the authorities. On the day of the execution, a numerous detachment of Roman soldiers was placed around the cross to guard against any attempt by the populace for the delivery of him who was the object of their veneration. In this occurrence Pilate gave proof of his extraordinary firmness and resolution. But though, owing to the precautions taken by the governor, the anticipated revolt did not occur, he could not prevent the people, after the execution, mourning the ruin of their hopes, which were destroyed, together with the last scion of the race of David. All the people went to worship at Jesus' grave. Although we have no precise information concerning the occurrences of the first few days following the Passion, we could, by some probable conjectures, reconstruct the scenes which must have taken place. It stands to reason that the Roman Cæsar's clever lieutenant, when he saw that Christ's grave became the centre of universal lamentations and the subject of national grief, and feared that the memory of the righteous victim might excite the discontent of the people and raise the whole country against the foreigners' rule, should have employed any effective means for the removal of this rallying-point, the mortal remains of Jesus. Pilate began by having the body buried. For three days the soldiers who were stationed on guard at the grave, were exposed to all kinds of insults and injuries on the part of the people who, defying the danger, came in multitudes to mourn the great martyr. Then Pilate ordered his soldiers to remove the body at night, and to bury it clandestinely in some other place, leaving the first grave open and the guard withdrawn from it, so that the people could see that Jesus had disappeared. But Pilate missed his end; for when, on the following morning, the Hebrews did not find the corpse of their master in the sepulchre, the superstitious and miracle-accepting among them thought that he had been resurrected. How did this legend take root? We cannot say. Possibly it existed for a long time in a latent state and, at the beginning, spread only among the common people; perhaps the ecclesiastic authorities of the Hebrews looked with indulgence upon this innocent belief, which gave to the oppressed a shadow of revenge on their oppressors. However it be, the day when the legend of the resurrection finally became known to all, there was no one to be found strong enough to demonstrate the impossibility of such an occurrence. Concerning this resurrection, it must be remarked that, according to the Buddhists, the soul of the just Issa was united with the eternal Being, while the Evangelists insist upon the ascension of the body. It seems to me, however, that the Evangelists and the Apostles have done very well to give the description of the resurrection which they have agreed upon, for if they had not done so, _i.e._, if the miracle had been given a less material character, their preaching would not have had, in the eyes of the nations to whom it was presented, that divine authority, that avowedly supernatural character, which has clothed Christianity, until our time, as the only religion capable of elevating the human race to a state of sublime enthusiasm, suppressing its savage instincts, and bringing it nearer to the grand and simple nature which God has bestowed, they say, upon that feeble dwarf called man. _Explanatory Notes_ _Chapter III._ _§§ 3, 4, 5, 7_ The histories of all peoples show that when a nation has reached the apogee of its military glory and its wealth, it begins at once to sink more or less rapidly on the declivity of moral degeneration and decay. The Israelites having, among the first, experienced this law of the evolution of nations, the neighboring peoples profited by the decadence of the then effeminate and debauched descendants of Jacob, to despoil them. _§ 8_ The country of Romeles, _i.e._, the fatherland of Romulus; in our days, Rome. _§§ 11, 12_ It must be admitted that the Israelites, in spite of their incontestable wit and intelligence, seem to have only had regard for the present. Like all other Oriental peoples, they only in their misfortunes remembered the faults of their past, which they each time had to expiate by centuries of slavery. _Chapter IV_ _§ 6_ As it is easy to divine, this verse refers to Joseph, who was a lineal descendant from King David. Side by side with this somewhat vague indication may be placed the following passages from the Gospels: --"The angel of the Lord appeared unto him in a dream, saying, Joseph, thou son of David, fear not to take unto thee Mary thy wife" ... (Matt. i, 20.) --"And the multitudes that went before, and that followed, cried, saying, Hosanna to the son of David" (Matt. xxi, 9.) --"To a virgin espoused to a man whose name was Joseph, of the house of David;" ... (Luke i, 27.) --"And the Lord God shall give unto him the throne of his father David;" ... (Luke i, 32.) --"And Jesus himself began to be about thirty years of age, being (as was supposed) the son of Joseph, which was the son of Heli ... which was the son of Nathan, which was the son of David" (Luke iii, 23-31.) _§ 7_ Both the Old and the New Testaments teach that God promised David the rehabilitation of his throne and the elevation to it of one of his descendants. _§§ 8, 9_ --"And the child grew, and waxed strong in spirit, filled with wisdom, and the grace of God was upon him." --"And it came to pass, that after three days they found him in the temple, sitting in the midst of the doctors, both hearing them, and asking them questions." --"And all that heard him were astonished at his understanding and answers." --"And he said unto them, How is it that ye sought me? wist ye not that I must be about my Father's business?" --"And Jesus increased in wisdom and stature, and in favor with God and man" (Luke ii, 40, 46, 47, 49, 52.) _Chapter V_ _§ 1_ "Sind," a Sanscrit word, which has been modified by the Persians into Ind. "Arya," the name given in antiquity to the inhabitants of India; signified first "man who cultivates the ground" or "cultivator." Anciently it had a purely ethnographical signification; this appellation assumed later on a religious sense, notably that of "man who believes." _§ 2_ Luke says (i, 80): "And the child grew, and waxed strong in spirit, and was in the deserts till the day of his shewing unto Israel." The Evangelists say that Jesus was in the desert, the Buddhists explain this version of the Gospels by indicating where Jesus was during his absence from Judea. According to them he crossed the Sind, a name which, properly spoken, signifies "the river" (Indus). In connection with this word it is not amiss to note that many Sanscrit words in passing into the Persian language underwent the same transformation by changing the "s" into "h"; per example: _Sapta_ (in Sanscrit), signifying seven--_hafta_ (in Persian); _Sam_ (Sanscrit), signifying equal--_ham_ (Persian); _Mas_ (Sanscrit), meaning mouth--_mah_ (Persian); _Sur_ (Sanscrit), meaning sun--_hur_ (Persian); _Das_ (Sanscrit), meaning ten--_Dah_ (Persian); _Loco citato_--and those who believed in the god Djain. There exists, even yet, on the peninsula of Hindustan, a cult under the name of Djainism, which forms, as it were, a link of union between Buddhism and Brahminism, and its devotees teach the destruction of all other beliefs, which they declare contaminated with falsehood. It dates as far back as the seventh century, B.C. Its name is derived from Djain (conqueror), which it assumed as the symbol of its triumph over its rivals. _§ 4_ Each of the eighteen Puranas is divided into five parts, which, besides the canonical laws, the rites and the commentaries upon the creation, destruction and resurrection of the universe, deal with theogony, medicine, and even the trades and professions. _Chapter VI_ _§ 12_ Owing to the intervention of the British, the human sacrifices, which were principally offered to Kali, the goddess of death, have now entirely ceased. The goddess Kali is represented erect, with one foot upon the dead body of a man, whose head she holds in one of her innumerable hands, while with the other hand she brandishes a bloody dagger. Her eyes and mouth, which are wide open, express passion and cruelty. _Chapter VIII_ _§§ 3, 4_ Zoroaster lived 550 years before Jesus. He founded the doctrine of the struggle between light and darkness, a doctrine which is fully expounded in the Zend-Avesta (Word of God), which is written in the Zend language, and, according to tradition, was given to him by an angel from Paradise. According to Zoroaster we must worship Mithra (the sun), from whom descend Ormuzd, the god of good, and Ahriman, the god of evil. The world will end when Ormuzd has triumphed over his rival, Ahriman, who will then return to his original source, Mithra. _Chapter X_ _§ 16_ According to the Evangelists, Jesus was born in Bethlehem, which the Buddhistic version confirms, for only from Bethlehem, situated at a distance of about seven kilometres from Jerusalem, could the walls of this latter city be seen. _Chapter XI_ _§ 15_ The doctrine of the Redemptor is, almost in its entirety, contained in the Gospels. As to the transformation of men into children, it is especially known from the conversation that took place between Jesus and Nicodemus. _Chapter XII_ _§ 1_ --"Tell us therefore, What thinkest thou? Is it lawful to give tribute unto Cæsar, or not?" (Matt. xxii, 17.) _§ 3_ --"Then saith he unto them, Render therefore unto Cæsar the things which are Cæsar's; and unto God the things that are God's." (Matt. xxii, 21; _et al._) _Chapter XIV_ _§ 3_ According to the Buddhistic belief, the terrestrial buddhas after death, lose consciousness of their independent existence and unite with the eternal Spirit. _§§ 10, 11_ Here, no doubt, reference is made to the activity of the Apostles among the neighboring peoples; an activity which could not have passed unnoticed at that epoch, because of the great results which followed the preaching of the new religious doctrine of love among nations whose religions were based upon the cruelty of their gods. * * * * * Without permitting myself indulgence in great dissertations, or too minute analysis upon each verse, I have thought it useful to accompany my work with these few little explanatory notes, leaving it to the reader to take like trouble with the rest. --_Finis_ [1] The Vaisyas and Sudras castes. [2] Brahmins and Kshatriyas. [3] _Sanscrit_:--"He whose essence (sattva) has become intelligence (bhodi)," those who need but one more incarnation to become perfect buddhas, _i.e._, to be entitled to Nirvâna. 
29557	----	The Lord of Glory MEDITATIONS ON THE PERSON, THE WORK AND GLORY OF OUR LORD JESUS CHRIST BY A. C. GAEBELEIN PUBLICATION OFFICE OF "OUR HOPE," 456 Fourth Avenue, New York, N. Y. PICKERING & INGLIS, L. S. HAYNES, GLASGOW, 502 Yonge Street, SCOTLAND TORONTO, CANADA Copyright 1910 by A. C. Gaebelein. Printing by Francis Emory Fitch of New York Contents Preface Dedication The Lord of Glory Jehovah. The "I am" That Worthy Name The Doctrine of Christ The Pre-eminence of the Lord Jesus Christ Ye are Christ's--Christ is God's The Wonderful Honor and Glory unto Him Christ's Resurrection Song The Glory Song The Firstborn The Waiting Christ A Vision of the King The Fellowship of His Son Jesus Christ our Lord Out of His Fulness, The Twenty-second Psalm The Exalted One A Glorious Vision My Brethren The Patience of Christ He Shall Not Keep Silent The Love of Christ The Joy of the Lord This same Jesus The Wondrous Cross His Legacy What Have I to do with Idols The Never Changing One Be of Good Cheer Make Haste Preface. For a number of years the first pages of each issue of "Our Hope" have been devoted to brief meditations on the Person and Glory of our adorable Lord Jesus Christ. Three reasons led the Editor to do this: 1. He is worthy of all honor and glory, worthy to have the first place in all things. 2. The great need of His people to have His blessed Person, His past and present work, His power and glory, His future manifestation constantly brought before their hearts. 3. There is an ever increasing denial of the Person of our Lord. In the most subtle way His Glory has been denied. It is therefore eminently necessary for those who know Him to tell out His worth. Long and learned discussions on the Person of the Lord have been written in the past, but are not much read in these days. We felt that short and simple meditations on Himself would be welcomed by all believers. All these brief articles were written with much prayer and often under deep soul exercise. It has pleased the Holy Spirit to own them in a most blessed way. Hundreds of letters were received telling of the great blessing these meditations have been and what refreshing they brought to the hearts of His people. Weary and tired ones were cheered, wandering ones restored and erring ones set right. Many wrote us or told us personally that the Lord Jesus Christ has become a greater reality and power in their lives after following this monthly testimony. Suggestions were made to issue some of these notes in book form so that these blessed truths may be preserved in a more permanent form. We have done so and send this volume forth with the prayer that the Holy Spirit, who is here to glorify Christ, may use it to the praise and glory of His worthy Name. We are confident that such will be the case. A. C. G. New York City, October 1, 1910. Dedication. "Unto Him who loveth us and washed us from our sins in His own blood, and hath made us kings and priests unto God His Father; to Him be glory and dominion forever."--Rev. i: 5-6. "Worthy is the Lamb that was slain to receive power, and riches, and wisdom, and strength, and honor, and glory, and blessing."--Rev. v: 12. "Then they that feared the Lord spake one to another: and the Lord hearkened and heard it, and a book of remembrance was written before Him for them that feared the Lord and that _thought upon His Name_." --Mal. iii: 16. "Let us go forth, therefore, unto Him without the camp bearing His reproach. For here we have no continuing city, but we seek one to come. By Him, therefore, let us offer the sacrifice of praise to God continually, that is the fruit of our lips, _confessing His Name_." --Hebrews xiii: 13-15. "Surely I come quickly. Amen. Even so. Come Lord Jesus."--Rev. xxii: 20. The Lord of Glory. 1 Cor. ii:8. OUR ever blessed Lord, who died for us, to whom we belong, with whom we shall be forever, is the Lord of Glory. Thus He is called in 1 Cor. ii:8, "for had they known they would not have crucified the _Lord of Glory_." Eternally He is this because He is "the express image of God, the brightness of His Glory" (Heb. i:3). He possessed Glory with the Father before the world was (John xvii:5). This Glory was beheld by the prophets, for we read that Isaiah "saw His Glory and spake of Him" (John xii:41). All the glorious manifestations of Jehovah recorded in the Word of God are the manifestations of "the Lord of Glory," who created all things that are in heaven, and that are in earth, visible and invisible, who is before all things and by whom all things consist. He appeared as the God of Glory to Abraham (Acts vii:1); Isaac and Jacob were face to face with Him. Moses beheld His Glory. He saw His Glory on the mountain. The Lord of Glory descended in the cloud and stood with him there (Exod. xxxiv:5). How often the Glory of the Lord appeared in the midst of Israel. And what more could we say of Joshua, David, Daniel, Ezekiel, who all beheld His Glory and stood in the presence of that Lord of Glory. In the fulness of time He appeared on earth "God manifested in the flesh." Though He made of Himself no reputation and left His unspeakable Glory behind, yet He was the Lord of Glory, and as such He manifested His Glory. In incarnation in His holy, spotless life He revealed His moral Glory; what perfection and loveliness we find here! We have the testimony of His own "We beheld His Glory, the Glory as of the only begotten of the Father" (John i:14). "They saw His Glory" (Luke ix:32) when they were with Him in the holy mountain. They heard, they saw with their eyes, they looked upon, their hands handled the Word of life, the life that was manifested (1 John i:1-2). In His mighty miracles the Lord of Glory manifested His Glory, for it is written "this beginning of miracles did Jesus in Cana of Galilee and manifested forth His Glory" (John i:11). And this Lord of Glory died. The focus of His Glory is the cross. He was obedient unto death, the death of the cross. He gave Himself for us. Without following here all the precious truths connected with that which is the foundation of our salvation and our hope, that the Lord of Glory, Christ died for our sins, we remember that God "raised Him up from the dead and _gave Him Glory_" (1 Pet. i:21). He was "received up into Glory" (1 Tim. iii:16). "Ought not Christ to have suffered these things and to enter into _His Glory_" (Luke xxiv:26). The risen Lord of Glory said: "I ascend unto my Father and your Father; to my God and your God." He is now in the presence of God, the Man in Glory, seated in the highest place of the heaven of heavens "at the right hand of the Majesty on high." He is there "far above all principality, and power, and might, and dominion, and every name that is named, not only in this world, but also in that which is to come" (Eph. i:21). He is highly exalted, the heir of all things. In that Glory He was beheld by human, mortal eyes. Stephen being full of the Holy Spirit "looked up steadfastly into heaven and saw the _Glory of God_, and Jesus standing on the right hand of God" (Acts vii:55). This was the dying testimony of the first Christian martyr. Saul of Tarsus saw this Glory; he "could not see for the Glory of that light" (Acts xxii:11). John beheld Him and fell at His feet as dead. And we see Him with the eye of faith. "But we see Jesus, who was made a little lower than the angels for the suffering of death _crowned with Glory and Honor_" (Heb. ii:9). But this is not all. The unseen Glory of the Lord and the unseen Lord of Glory will some day be visible, not to a few, but to the whole universe. He will come in the Glory of His Father and the holy angels with Him (Matt. xvi:27). The Lord of Glory will be "revealed from heaven with His mighty angels" (2 Thess. i:7). He will come in power and Glory, come in His own Glory (Luke ix:26) and sit on the throne of His Glory (Matt. xxv:31). His Glory then will cover the heavens (Hab. iii:3) and "the earth will be filled with the knowledge of the Glory of the Lord, as the waters cover the sea" (Hab. ii:14). The heavens cannot be silent forever and He who now is the object of the faith of believers, and the One whom the world has rejected, will come forth in all His Majesty and Glory and every eye shall see Him. Then every knee must bow at the name of Jesus and every tongue confess Him as Lord. In that manifestation of the Lord of Glory and the Glory of the Lord we His redeemed will be manifested in Glory. He will then be glorified in His saints and admired in all them that believed (2 Thess. i:10). He will bring His many sons to Glory (Heb. ii:10). We are "partakers of the Glory that shall be revealed" (1 Pet. v:1). The God of all Grace hath indeed called us unto His eternal Glory by Jesus Christ. "And when the chief Shepherd shall appear, ye shall receive a crown of Glory that fadeth not away" (1 Pet. v:4). "But rejoice inasmuch as ye are partakers of Christ's sufferings, that when His Glory shall be revealed, ye may be glad also with exceeding joy" (1 Pet. iv:13). But ere this visible Glory is manifested over the earth and on the earth and He comes forth as the King of kings and Lord of lords His own will be gathered unto Him and be caught up in clouds to meet Him in the air. Then we shall see Him as He is and be like Him. The Glory which the Father has given Him as the head of the body will be bestowed upon the whole body; for thus He prayed "the Glory, which thou hast given me I have given to them" (John xvii:22). And in the Father's house where He is, in the Holy of Holies we shall behold His Glory. We shall be changed into the same image "that He might be the first born among many brethren" (Rom. viii:29). And now, dear reader, joint heir with the Lord of Glory, called by God unto the fellowship of His Son, in meditating on these wonderful facts given to us by revelation, does not your heart burn within you? What a blessing, what a place, what a future is ours linked with the Lord of Glory, one with Him! What a stupendous thought that He came from Glory to die for us so that He might have us with Him in Glory! And these blessed truths concerning the Lord of Glory and the Glory of the Lord we need to hold ever before our hearts in these dreary days when darkest night is fast approaching. To walk worthy of the Lord, to be faithful to the Lord, to render true service, to be more like Him and show forth His excellencies, we but need one thing, to know Him better and to behold the Glory of the Lord. It is written "But we all, with open face beholding as in a glass the Glory of the Lord, are changed into the same image from glory to glory, even as by the Spirit of the Lord." Guided by the Spirit we can look on the Lord of Glory and His Glory, mirrored in all parts of the Word of God. And then as we look on this wonderful person and His relation to us and ours to Him, as we behold His glory both moral and literal, in humiliation and exaltation, past, present and future, we are changed into the same image. Our path will be from Glory to Glory! And some day there will come that supreme moment when we shall be _suddenly_ changed "in a moment, the twinkling of an eye." Oh child of God see your need! It is Christ, the Lord of Glory set before your heart; all worldly mindedness, all insincerity, all discouragement, all unbelief, all unfaithfulness must flee when we follow on to know the Lord and daily behold "as in a glass the Glory of the Lord." "Now unto Him that is able to keep you from falling, and to present you faultless _before the presence of His Glory_ with exceeding joy, to the only wise God our Saviour, be glory and majesty, dominion and power, both now and ever. Amen." Jehovah. The "I Am." WHEN Moses in the desert beheld the burning bush God answered his question by the revelation of His name as the "I Am." "And God said unto Moses, I am, that I am: and He said, Thus shalt thou say unto the children of Israel, I AM hath sent me unto you" (Exod. iii:14). He who spake thus out of the bush to Moses was the same who in the fullness of time appeared upon the earth in the form of man. Our Lord Jesus Christ is no less person, than the I AM. If we turn to the fourth Gospel in which the Holy Spirit pictures Him as the Son of God, one with the Father, we find His glorious title there as the I AM. In the eighth chapter of that blessed Gospel we read that He said to the Jews, "Verily, verily, I say unto you, Before Abraham was, I am" (v:58). And the Jews took stones to cast them upon Him. In the fifth chapter we read that they wanted to kill Him, not only because He had violated the Sabbath, but also said that God was His Father, making Himself equal with God (v:18). They wanted to stone Him because in saying that word "Before Abraham was, I am" He had claimed that holy name for Himself, which was revealed to Moses. The Jews then, as the orthodox Jews do still, reverenced that name to such a degree that they did not even pronounce it, but substituted in its place the word "Adonai." Little did they realize that the same "I am" who spoke to Moses out of the bush, saying, "I am;" who descended before Moses later in a cloud and proclaimed the name of the Lord (Exod. xxxiv) was standing in their midst in the form of man. And this is not the only time He used this word. We find it in the xviii chapter of John. When the band and officers of the chief priests and Pharisees came with lanterns, torches and weapons, Jesus stepped majestically into their presence with the calm question: "Whom seek ye?" When they had stated that they were seeking Jesus the Nazarene He answered them with one word "I AM." What happened? They went backward and fell to the ground. What a spectacle that must have been. The dark night, a company of people, all on the same satanic errand, with their lanterns, torches and different kinds of weapons. And then the object of their hatred steps before them and utters one word and they fall helpless to the ground. What warning it should have been to them. Once more He asks the question; again He answers with the "I am" and with the understanding that His own should be free, He allows Himself to be bound. He likewise called Himself "I am" in talking with the Samaritan woman. In John iv:26 we read, "Jesus saith unto her, I that speak unto thee am he." This does, however, not express the original. This reads as follows: "I AM that speaks to thee." After this mighty word had come from His lips the woman had nothing more to say, but left her waterpot and went her way back to the city. The I AM had spoken to her. In chapters vi:20 and viii:28 we find Him using the same "I am" again. In the former passage "It is I" should read "I am." Besides these passages in which He speaks of Himself as the self-existing Jehovah, the great "I am," He saith seven times in this Gospel what He is to His own. I am the Bread of life (chapter vi:35.) I am the Light of the world (chapter ix:5). I am the Door (chapter x:7). I am the Good Shepherd (chapter x:11). I am the Resurrection and the Life (chapter xi:25). I am the Way, the Truth and the Life (chapter xvi:6); and I am the true Vine (chapter xv:1). But this does not exhaust at all what He is and will be now and forever to those who belong to Him. In the Old Testament there are seven great names of the "I AM" which are deep and significant. In them we can trace His rich and wonderful Grace. _Jehovah.--Jireh_ --The Lord provides. The lamb provided (Genesis xxii). _Jehovah Rophecah_--I am the Lord that healeth thee (Exodus xv). _Jehovah --Nissi_--The Lord is my banner, He giveth the Victory (Exod. xvii). _Jehovah shalom_, the Lord is Peace. He is our Peace (Judges vi). _Jehovah Roi_--The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want (Psalm xxiii). _Jehovah-Tsidkenu_, the Lord is our righteousness (Jeremiah xxiii). _Jehovah shammah_, the Lord is there (Ezek. xlviii). But this does not exhaust what He is. I AM--what? Anything and everything what we need in time and eternity. "When God would teach mankind His name He called Himself the great, I AM, And leaves a blank--believers may Supply those things for which they pray." Happy indeed are we, beloved reader, if we know Him, who died for us as the I AM, if we learn more and more to trust Him as the all sufficient One and know that the I AM will supply all our need. In these days in which the person of Christ is so much belittled, attacked; He as the Holy One, the great Jehovah rejected, not by the outside world alone, but by those who call themselves after His own blessed name, let us have for an answer to all these attacks of the enemy a closer walk with Him, a more intimate fellowship with the I AM; a better acquaintance with our Jehovah-Jesus, our gracious Lord. Oh what a union is ours, One with Him the I AM, what a happy, glorious lot. Hallelujah. I am Alpha and Omega, the beginning and the ending, saith the Lord, which is, and which was, and which is to come (Rev. ii:8). I am the bright and morning star (Rev. xxii: 16). What, oh what will He be for His own in all eternity! That Worthy Name. James ii:7. IN the second chapter of the Epistle of James the Holy Spirit speaks of our ever blessed Lord as "that worthy Name." Precious Word! precious to every heart that knows Him and delights to exalt His glorious and worthy Name. His Name is "far above every Name that is named, not only in this world, but also in that which is to come." (Ephes. i:21.) It is "as ointment poured forth" (Song of Sol. i:3); yea, His Name alone is excellent (Psalm cxlviii:13). But according to His worth that blessed Name is far from being fully known and uttered by the Saints of God. "Thou art worthy" and "Worthy is the Lamb" shall some day burst from the glorified lips of redeemed sinners, brought home to be with Him. In that blessed day when at last we see Him face to face, forever with the Lord, we shall begin to learn the full worth and glory of that Name, the Name of the Lord Jesus Christ. In a feeble way here below we get glimpses of His precious, worthy Name, of His beauty and loveliness, and then only through the power of the Holy Spirit. The aim of the Spirit of God dwelling in our hearts will always be to tell us more of Himself. Like Abraham's servant who had so much to say to the elect bride about Isaac, so the Holy Spirit ever delights to show us more of Christ, the Christ of God. Oh! how He is eager to tell us more of His worth, of His glory, of His grace and of all He is and all He has. How it grieves Him when our hearts do not respond to the great message He has for us and when instead we turn to something else to give us joy and comfort. Only Christ can give joy and comfort, peace and rest to the hearts of those who are His. The days are evil and the time is short. Is your heart increasingly attracted to that worthy Name? Do you have a greater burning desire in your heart for Himself? Does He, that worthy Name, become more and more day by day the absorbing object of your heart and life? Do you often weep over your coldheartedness, your lack of real devotion to Him and communion with your Lord? Do you appreciate Him more than ever before? Is the Apostle's longing cry "that I might know Him" coming also from your heart? Dear reader, these are searching questions. A better knowledge of our blessed Lord, a deeper acquaintance with that worthy Name and greater devotion to Him, is the only true spiritual progress which counts. If you live but little in the reality of all this you lack that joy and rest which is true Christian happiness and the Spirit is grieved. Oh let Him unfold to your heart that worthy name and show you from His Word, His wonderful person, then His power will attract your heart more and more. This is what all God's people need. "That worthy Name," the Lord in all His blessed fulness and glorious reality is what we need. And what the written Word has to tell us of "that worthy Name"! Oh, the titles, the attributes, the names, the glories, the beauties of Himself. And we have discovered but so few of these blessed things. Perhaps a few hundred of the descriptions of that worthy Name are known to God's Saints; but there are hundreds, still hidden, we have never touched. Yes, God's Spirit is ever willing to make them known to our hearts. Just for a few moments think of some of the familiar titles and names of that Name which is above every other name. How these titles of our blessed Lord, what He is and what we have in Him should fill our hearts with praise and our lips with outbursts of praise, lift us above present day conditions and give us courage and boldness. "That worthy Name"; who is He? The Son of God, the Only Begotten of the Father, the living God, the eternal Life; Emmanuel, the God of Glory, the Holy One; Jehovah, the everlasting God, the Lord strong and mighty, the Lord of Peace, the Lord our righteousness, the Upholder of all things, the Creator, the Alpha and Omega, the express image of God. He is the Word, the Word of God, the Word of Life, the Wisdom of God, the Angel of the Lord, the Mediator of the better covenant. The good Shepherd, the great Shepherd, the chief Shepherd, the Door, the Way, the Root and offspring of David, the Branch of Righteousness, the Rose of Sharon, the Lily of the valley, the true Vine, the Corn of Wheat, the Bread of God, the true Bread from heaven. He is also the Light of the world, the Day dawn, the Star out of Jacob, Sun and Shield, the Bright and Morningstar, the Sun of Righteousness. Thus we read of that worthy Name, that He is, the Great High-priest, the Daysman, the Advocate, Intercessor, Surety, Mercy Seat, the Forerunner, the Rock of Salvation, the Refuge, the Tower, a strong Tower, the Rock of Ages, the Hope of Glory, the Hope of His people, a living Stone. And what else? the Gift of God, the Beloved, the Fountain of Life, Shiloh, He is our Peace, our Redeemer, He is precious, the Amen, the Just Lord, the Bridegroom, the Firstborn from the Dead, Head over all, Head of all principality and power, Heir of all things. He is Captain of the Lord's Host, Captain of their salvation, Chiefest among Ten Thousand, the Leader, the Counsellor, the Lion of the tribe of Judah, the Governor, Prince of Peace, the Prince of Life, the Prince of the Kings of the earth, the Judge, the King, the King of Israel, King of Saints, King of Glory, King over all the earth, King in His Beauty, King of Kings and Lord of lords. All these names and attributes of that worthy Name are familiar. What dignity, what power, what grace and blessing for us for whom He died and shed His precious blood they express. Who can fathom these names? Who can tell out His worth? And hundreds more could be added, and many, many more, which are still undiscovered in the Word of God. What a Lord He is! We worship and adore Thee, Thou worthy One. Draw us O Lord and we will run after Thee. What a joy and delight it ought to be to follow Him, to exalt Him, to be devoted to such a One! Oh! our failures! And still He carries us in kindness and patience. And He also has a Name, which expresses the fulness of His work and glory. No one knows what _that_ is. "He had a name written, that no man knew, but He Himself" (Rev. xix:12). That unknown Name may never be made known. But oh! the blessedness which is before us His redeemed people. Of us it is written "They shall see _His face_": That blessed, blessed face of that worthy Name, we shall behold at last. We shall see His face! Oh the rapture which fills the heart in the anticipation of that soon coming event. "And His Name shall be on their foreheads" (Rev. xxii:4). We shall be like Him, we shall be a perfect reflection of Himself. The Doctrine of Christ. 2 John 9-11. "WHOSOEVER transgresseth and abideth not in the doctrine of Christ, hath not God. He that abideth in the doctrine of Christ, he hath both the Father and the Son. If there come any unto you, and bring not this doctrine, receive him not into your house, neither bid him God speed. For he that biddeth him God speed is partaker of his evil deeds" (2 John 9-11). What then is the doctrine of Christ? It is the revealed truth concerning the person of our Lord Jesus Christ, that He is the Son of God, whom the Father sent into the world. "God so loved the world, that He gave His only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth on Him should not perish, but have everlasting life." This is the doctrine of Christ. Anyone who does not hold the doctrine of Christ that He is absolutely God, one with the Father come into the world, hath not God. He is without God and hope in the world. He is an Anti-christ. "Every spirit that confesseth that Jesus Christ is come in the flesh is of God; and every spirit that confesseth not that Jesus Christ is come in the flesh is not of God; and this is that spirit of Anti-christ, whereof ye have heard that it should come; and even now already is it in the world" (1 John iv:2-3). Such a denier of the Deity of the Lord Jesus Christ is no christian at all and all fellowship even to the greeting must be denied to him. This seems severe and intolerant. But it is not if we consider what the denial of the Person of our holy and blessed Lord means. God grant unto us, who hold the doctrine of Christ, a divine jealousy for His honor and glory, manifested by separation from all who in any way deny the doctrine upon which all Christianity rests. But how blessed to faith to see in the first Epistle of John the doctrine of Christ revealed and the blessings and comforts brought forth, which are for those who abide in this doctrine. In the Gospel of John the beloved disciple writes by the Holy Spirit about the Son of God, how He came from the Father and was in the world and how He left the world to go back to the Father. The Son of God is also the theme of the Holy Spirit in the first Epistle of John. "Our fellowship is with the Father, and with His _Son_ Jesus Christ" (i:3). This fellowship means that we share the Father's thoughts about His Son and to enjoy with the Son His own blessed and eternal relationship with the Father. In the measure our faith enters into the doctrine of Christ in that measure we shall have deeper fellowship with the Father and His Son. Is your cry, dear reader, for more reality in this fellowship? There is one way only which leads to this. It is an increase in the knowledge of the Son of God and as you abide there, you _have_ the Father and the Son. And now we shall call to our remembrance other passages in the first Epistle of John in which our blessed Lord as the Son of God is mentioned. They are sweet and precious to faith and if read in the Spirit they will bring the joy, the blessing, the peace and the comfort of the doctrine of Christ to our hearts. "The blood of Jesus Christ His Son cleanseth us from all sin" (i:7). That precious blood, His own blood, has cleansed us once and for all. "For this purpose the _Son of God_ was manifested that He might destroy the works of the devil" (iii:8). "And this is his commandment, that we should believe on the name of His _Son_ Jesus Christ and love one another as He gave us commandment. And he that keepeth His commandments (which are: believing on Him and loving one another) dwelleth in Him and He in him. And hereby we know that He abideth in us, by the Spirit which He hath given us" (iii:23-24). "In this was manifested the love of God toward us, because that God sent His _only begotten Son_ into the world that we might live through Him. Herein is love, not that we loved God, but that He loved us, and sent _His Son_ into the world to be the propitiation for our sins." "Beloved, if God so loved us, we ought also to love one another" (iv:9-11). "And we have seen and do testify that the Father sent _the Son_ to be the Saviour of the world. Whosoever shall confess that Jesus is _the Son of God_, God dwelleth in him and he in God. And we have known and believed the love that God hath to us. God is love; and he that dwelleth in love, dwelleth in God and God in him" (iv:14-16). "Who is he that overcometh the world, but he that believeth that Jesus is _the Son of God?_" (v:5) "If we receive the witness of men, the witness of God is greater; for this is the witness of God which He hath testified of His _Son_. He that believeth on the _Son of God_ hath the witness in himself; he that believeth not God hath made Him a liar; because he believeth not the record that God gave to _His Son_. And this is the record that God hath given to us eternal life, and this life is _in His Son_. He that hath _the Son_ hath life; he that hath not the _Son of God_ hath not life" (v:9-12). "These things have I written unto you that believe on the name of _the Son of God_, that ye may know that ye have eternal life, and that ye may believe on the name of _the Son of God_. And this is the confidence that we have in Him, that, if we ask anything according to His will, He heareth us" (v:13-14). "And we know that the _Son of God_ is come, and hath given us an understanding, that we may know Him that is true, and we are in Him that is true, even in _His Son_ Jesus Christ. This is the _true God_ and eternal life" (v:20). May our faith lay hold anew of these simple yet deep and precious revelations. They are the doctrine of Christ. Into this we must enter constantly and manifest in our lives the fruits of this doctrine, love and righteousness. The increasing rejection of the doctrine of Christ demands the increased appreciation of that doctrine. The more the enemy attacks the Person of Christ, the more the Holy Spirit demands of us, who belong to Christ, that we exalt Him. Everything in the present time seems to be aimed at the setting aside of the doctrine upon which our Hope rests. Higher Criticism, the evil doctrines, which reject the eternal punishment of the wicked, the spurious gospels, ethical teachings and every other false doctrine strikes at the blessed Person of our Lord. The shadow of _the_ Anti-christ is cast in our days. Let us heed God's Word. Let us be separated from those who deny Christ or we are partakers of their evil deeds. The path of the true believer becomes narrower. It must be so. But Christ becomes more precious, more real to our souls. What awful times are coming upon this age according to God's Word! With the rejection of the doctrine of Christ this age sides completely with Satan and that wonderful being is both blinding his victims and using them for his own sinister purposes. The blindness is fearful. It will be worse before long. The rush into complete apostasy and from there into the delusion with the lying wonders and on into the darkness forever will come next. Let us praise God for the doctrine of Christ, which is our salvation, and may God give us faith and courage to walk according to that doctrine. What day of joy awaits us, when we shall see him as He is and know the depth of the Love of God by being like Him! The Pre-Eminence of the Lord Jesus Christ. WHAT a blessed theme the Person and Glory of our Lord! How inexhaustible and unsearchable! How refreshing to the souls of His redeemed people as well as to the heart of our heavenly Father, who, loveth the Son! To meditate on Him, to behold the Glory of the Lord under the guidance of the Holy Spirit in the Word of God, means spiritual growth and spiritual enjoyment. This only can make the unseen Person a blessed reality in our daily walk. We pray that all our beloved readers are drawn closer to Himself through these brief meditations. Can we truly say the Lord is more precious to our hearts and that we are living more in His presence than ever before? Has He become the absorbing object of our hearts and lives? Are we more devoted to Him? God grant that this may be the case with all of us. It is the great need we have. It is the good part, which Mary, resting at His feet, had chosen. In the great chapter which begins the Epistle to the Colossians, after that blessed description of the Son of God, stands this word "_that in all things He might have the pre-eminence_" (Col. i:18). But who can tell out what a pre-eminence, the pre-eminence of the Lord Jesus Christ is? Some day we shall see Him in all His Glory. He Himself will lead us into the Holiest of the third heaven to behold the Glory the Father has given Him (John xvii:24); then we shall know His pre-eminence fully. And yet from Scripture we can learn even now the pre-eminence of the Lord Jesus Christ. In all eternity the Son of God was the object of Love and Glory. "Son of God the Father's bosom Ever was Thy dwelling place." He ever subsisted in the form of God. In all creation He has the pre-eminence. This is made known to us, as man could not discover it, by revelation. We accept this in faith. "Through faith we understand that the worlds were framed by the Word of God, so that things which are seen were not made of things which do appear" (Heb. x:3). And all which was called into existence was created by Him and for Him. "For by Him were all things created, that are in heaven, and that are in earth, visible and invisible, whether they be thrones or dominions, or principalities, or powers, all things were created by Him and for Him" (Col. i:16). What a marvellous survey! What power and glory belongs to the blessed Son of God! "All things were made by Him; and without Him was not anything made that was made." "The world was made by Him" (John i:3, 10). He has the pre-eminence in sustaining His creation. All things consist by Him. He upholds all things by the Word of His power (Heb. i:3). In the Revelation of God He has the pre-eminence. Both books, the book of Nature and the Book of all books, the written Word of God, the Bible, tell out His Glory. The Bible may be compared to a living organism, like the human body. Every book in the Bible has a specific place and service like the members of the body; the life in that marvellous divinely constructed organism of the revelation of God is the Son of God. Apart from Him there is no revelation from God and no manifestation of God. He reveals God throughout the Bible, in every part, He holds the pre-eminence. Greater still is His pre-eminence in redemption. Redemption would be an eternal impossibility without Him. He came from the Father's bosom to redeem us. He is the Way, the Truth and the Life. No one can come to the Father but by Him. He gives eternal life. Furthermore as the first born from the dead He is the head of the body. That body is the church and every believing sinner is a member in that body. Each is united to Him and possesses His life. This body with its many members He keeps, nourishes, builds up, sanctifies and ultimately glorifies. In all the great and glorious redemptive work He has the pre-eminence. As the glorified Man He is the Heir of God and as such He holds the pre-eminence in heaven. He has been made so much better than the angels, as He hath by inheritance obtained a more excellent name than they. Far above all the angelic beings, higher than the archangel is the Lord Jesus Christ, the Man in Glory. There is a future pre-eminence for Him. The day of His visible Glory and power is approaching. Now He is rejected, then He will be enthroned. Upon the holy hill of Zion He will be the King of Glory. His Glory will cover the heavens and His Majesty the earth. He will be King of kings and Lord of lords. He will rule as the only potentate and every knee must bow before Him. The song must at last rise in heaven and on earth "Worthy is the Lamb that was slain to receive power, and riches, and wisdom, and strength, and honor, and glory and blessing." Such is, briefly sketched, the pre-eminence of the Lord Jesus Christ. Yea, in all things He hath the pre-eminence. Can we do anything less than to give Him the first place in all things? He is worthy of it. He died for us. He drank the cup of wrath in our stead. His own self bare our sins in His own body on the tree. How great has been and still is His love for us, the love, which passeth knowledge. He is worthy of the first place every moment of our lives. He is worthy to possess all we have and are. We are bought with a price, we are not our own. We belong to Him. What unspeakable grace from God the Father, that He has brought us into fellowship with Him to whom He has given the pre-eminence. We please the Father as we delight ourselves in the Son and walk in that blessed fellowship. We must honor Him whom the Father has honored, and as we serve the Lord Jesus Christ and accord Him the first place, the Father will honor us (John xii:26). Our hearts too can never fully know the blessed peace of God and rest of faith till we give our Lord the first place. Anything less than that will mean dishonor to Him. "Not I--but Christ" must be the constant cry of our hearts. Not I--but Christ in our daily walk; Not I--but Christ in our service. Oh! that we might realize our great and holy calling, our wonderful privilege, a privilege which is ours for but a little while longer to live Him, live for Him, who has in all things the pre-eminence. Nothing save Him, in all our ways, Giving the theme for ceaseless praise; Our whole resource along the road, Nothing but Christ--the Christ of God. "Ye are Christ's--Christ is God's." ONLY a few words, yet how blessedly full of peace and joy! How precious they are to faith! If we, to whom they apply, would remember them daily, how happy in Him we would be. In all our ways, in good and evil days, yea, every moment the truth contained in these words ought to be real to the true believer. Is not all our failure due to the fact that we live not sufficiently in the consciousness and reality of this wonderful fact, that we belong to Christ, that we are one with Him? Before these words in the third chapter of First Corinthians we find the statement "all things are yours." And after these words it is written "Christ is God's." We are Christ's and Christ is God's; all things are ours because Grace has brought us into this marvelous relationship. "Christ is God's" gives us once more the whole story of God's Love and Grace. As the Only Begotten He ever subsisted in the form of God, the Image of God, one with Him, absolutely God. But He came down, took upon Him the form of a servant, taking His place in the likeness of man. In the form of man He wrought the great work of redemption on the cross and now after His resurrection, by which He is proven Son of God and His presence as the glorified Man in the highest heaven, He is the one in whom and through whom, God the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ gives all blessing. "Christ is God's," then, means what we learn from the following scriptures: "The Father loveth the Son, and hath given all things into His hands" (John iii:35). "Whom He hath appointed heir of all things" (Heb. i:2). "Christ is God's" is a word which tells us that He who is the Creator of all things, the visible and the invisible, came in incarnation, redeemed us and is now, the beginning, the first-begotten from the dead and the Head of His Body, which is the Church. This is how God has brought us to Himself in the person of His own Son by whom he has redeemed us, in whom He has exalted us and with whom He has given us all things. To that wonderful person, Christ, the Christ of God, we belong. We are His, who is One with God, by whom and for whom all things were created. The Son of God for such as we are, became poor, even to the poverty of the cross. There He took our place and in His own body He bore our sins and died for us. He saw us then the travail of His soul. We can look back to the cross and say, as His Apostle said: "Who love me and gave Himself for me." We belong to Him, who has all power in heaven and will have all power before long, as King of Kings and Lord of Lords on earth. We are Christ's, whom God has appointed as the second Man, the head of the new creation as Heir of all things. We are Christ's, who is the Head of the Body, to which we belong. In Him and with Him we are the Heirs of God. God and Christ are inseparable and so are Christ and we who have trusted in Him and have His life. All Christ has belongs to us; all Christ is we shall be; where Christ is there we shall be in all eternity. Reader! Child of God, pause! Does your faith lay hold of this? Do you read it only and enjoy it just for a moment or is this great fact of your union with Christ and God becoming daily a greater reality in your life? Is it really so that you enter deeper and deeper into that love which passeth knowledge? Oh! that it may be so with the writer and each believer who reads these feeble words on so great a theme. "Ye are Christ's." Then we are _not our own_. That is exactly what is elsewhere stated in First Corinthians. "Ye are not your own; we are bought with a price; therefore glorify God in your body and in your spirit, which are God's" (1 Cor. vi:20). Our hearts occupied with Himself, increasingly attracted by the glorious Person of our adorable Lord, realising by the power of His Spirit our glory and destiny with the Lord of Glory, we shall act and walk as such, who are Christ's. Every step of the way it will resound in our hearts "ye are Christ's." In all we do we shall always remember we are Christ's. Cares, anxieties, worldly ambitions, all manner of temptations, will fall before the fact grasped in faith "I am Christ's." We are convinced that _only_ the Person of Christ put before the heart of the believer through the Word of God and the power of His Spirit can keep the Christian in these awful days of apostasy from going along with the fearful current of the last days. If Christ and our blessing in Him become more real to us we will be beyond the reach of the god of this age with his wiles and sinister purposes. Furthermore the demand of the hour is for us to exalt Christ. How He is dishonored is a dread reality. The rejection of Christ was never so marked and never so satanic as in these days. God, the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ expects from us His children that we exalt Him in the days of His rejection and thus share His reproach. Let us do it! And lastly, if we ever have the Person of Christ before our hearts, we shall walk in obedience to Him as our Lord. Then if we exalt Christ and are obedient to Himself we have the fullest assurance that the Holy Spirit will be with us, upon us and fill us. There is no need to seek "the power" as some express it, nor a baptism of the Spirit. He will be with us and in us in the measure as we exalt Christ and walk in Him. O gracious Lord, when we reflect How apt to turn the eye from Thee, Forget Thee, too, with sad neglect, And listen to the enemy, And yet to find Thee still the same-- 'Tis this that humbles us with shame. Astonished at Thy feet we fall, Thy love exceeds our highest thought, Henceforth be Thou our all in all, Thou who our souls with blood hast bought; May we henceforth more faithful prove, And ne'er forget Thy ceaseless love. "Him will I make that overcomes And stems the advancing flood, A pillar of might, with glory light, In the temple of my God. On him shall the blest Name divine, And my new name be graven; And the City's name, Jerusalem, That cometh down from heaven." The Wonderful. Isaiah ix:6. HIS name shall be called "Wonderful" (Isaiah ix:6). And long before Isaiah had uttered this divine prediction the angel of the Lord had announced his name to be Wonderful. As such He appeared to Manoah. And Manoah said unto the angel of Jehovah, What is thy name, that when thy sayings come to pass we may do thee honor. And the angel of Jehovah said unto Him "why askest thou thus after my name, seeing it is Wonderful" (margin, Judges xiii:17-18). This angel of Jehovah, the Person who appeared repeatedly in Old Testament history is an uncreated angel. Of this Being we read that He is the Redeemer, for Jacob speaks of Him "the angel which redeemed me from all evil" (Genesis xlviii:15). He is the angel whose voice must be obeyed, who has power to pardon transgressions, in whom the name of God is (Exodus xxiii:20-23). He is the angel of His Presence who saved them (Isaiah lxiii:9) and Exodus xxxiii:14 must refer to this Being "My presence shall go with thee and I will give thee rest." This angel of Jehovah speaks in the Book of Judges and declared, "I made you to go up out of Egypt, and have brought you into the land which I sware unto your fathers; and I said I will never break my covenant with you" (Judges ii:1). He appeared unto Moses in a flame of fire out of the midst of the bush and He spoke to Moses as the I am! (Ex. iii.) The same One appeared before Joshua and he worshipped in His presence. With Him Jacob wrestled, with Jehovah, the God of hosts (Hosea xii:4-6). Malachi iii:1 shows that the Lord Himself is this Angel, the Angel of the Covenant, who also visited Abraham in the form of Man (Genesis xviii). And after all these manifestations, seven hundred years after Isaiah had announced Him, as the Wonderful, He appeared in human form in the midst of His people. And now we know by divine Revelation in the completed Word of God that He is wonderful in His Person and in his work; but no mind can fathom, no heart can grasp, no pen can describe, how wonderful He is. He is wonderful if we think of Him as the Only Begotten of the Father. "In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. The same was in the beginning with God. All things were made by Him; and without Him was not anything made that was made" (John i:1-3). "By Him were all things created that are in Heaven and that are in earth, visible and invisible, whether they be thrones, or dominions, or principalities, or powers, all things were made by Him and for Him; and He is before all things and by Him all things consist" (Col. i:16-17). He is the image of the invisible God, the brightness of His glory and the express image of His Person. How wonderful such a One, who ever was, with no beginning, One with God! How wonderful His humiliation. "Who being in the form of God, thought it not robbery to be equal with God, but made Himself of no reputation, and took upon Him the form of a servant, and was made in the likeness of men, and being in fashion as a man He humbled Himself" (Phil. ii:6-8). "For verily He took not on Him the nature of Angels, but He took on Him the seed of Abraham" (Hebrews ii:16). Wonderful condescension that He who created the angels should be made lower than the angels and lay His Glory by, to appear in the form of man on earth. Wonderful is He in His incarnation, "that holy thing" as the angel announced Him, truly God and Man. Born of the woman, resting on the bosom of the virgin as a little child and yet He is the One who ever is in the bosom of the Father. Wonderful that blessed life He lived on earth of which the beloved disciple bears such a beautiful witness. "That which was from the beginning, which we have heard, which we have seen with our eyes, which we have looked upon, and our hands have handled of the Word of Life. For the life was manifested and we have seen it and bear witness and shew unto you that eternal life, which was with the Father, and was manifested unto us" (1 John i:1-2). Wonderful are the blessed words which came from His lips, wonderful is His moral glory, His untiring service, His love, His patience and everything which the Holy Spirit has been pleased to tell us of His earthly life. The more our hearts contemplate Him the more wonderful He appears. But still greater and more wonderful is it that He went to the cross to give His life as a ransom for many, that the Just One should die for the unjust, that He who knew no sin was made sin for us and pay the penalty of sins on the cross. He is the Wonderful in His great work on the cross, the depths of which have never been fathomed. And what can we say of His wonderful Glory, His wonderful Place, His wonderful Power, His wonderful Grace! How wonderfully He has dealt with us, with each one of us individually. How wonderful it is that He knows each of His sheep, that He guides each, provides for, loveth, succors, stands by, restores, never leaves nor forsakes each who has trusted in Him and belongs to Him. How wonderful are His ways with us, that He guides with His eyes and that His loving power and omnipotent love is on our side. In His coming manifestation He will be wonderful. Wonderful He will be when we shall see Him and stand in His presence. What a day it will be when we see Him face to face! Then we shall know all the loveliness and wonderfulness of His adorable Person and His wonder ways with us. With what wonderment we shall then behold Him. And when He comes with His Saints, when the Heavens are lit up with untold glory, when He comes to judge, to establish His Kingdom, to speak peace to the nations, to restore creation to its right condition, when He reigns and all His redeemed ones with Him--Oh how wonderful it all will be! He is altogether lovely and he is altogether wonderful. Glory to His name! Well has one said: "He pervades the whole of the New Testament with His presence, so that every doctrine it teaches, every duty it demands, every narrative it records, every comfort it gives, every hope it inspires, gathers about His person and ministers to His glory." So dear does He thus become to the heart of the believer, that Luther may well be excused for exclaiming, 'I had rather be in hell with Christ, than in heaven without Him.' "We believe in Him as our Saviour, Acts vi:31; confess Him as our Lord, Rom. x:9; we have redemption through His blood, Eph. i:7; we look to Him as our Leader, Heb. xii:2; we follow Him as our Teacher, Eph. iv:20, 21; we feed upon Him as our Bread, Jno. vi:48; we go to Him in our Thirst, Jno. vi: 37; we enter by Him as our door, Jno. x:9; we are in Him as our vine, Jno. xv:5; we find in Him our rest, Matt. xi:28; we have in Him our example, Jno. xiii:15; He is our righteousness, 2 Cor. v:21; we are succored by Him in temptation, Heb. ii:18; we turn to Him for sympathy, Heb. iv:15; we obtain through Him our victory, 1 Cor. xv:57; we overcome by Him the world, 1 Jno. v:5; we have in Him eternal life, 1 Jno. v:11, 12; we gain by Him the resurrection, Phil. iii:20, 21; we appear with Him in glory, Col. iii:4, we exult in His everlasting love, Rev. i:5, 6." May the Holy Spirit fill our hearts and eyes with Himself and reveal to us through the written Word more of the matchless beauty of the wonderful Person of our Saviour and Lord. We honor and adore Thee, blessed, blessed Lord, and while Thou art rejected we thy feeble people would know more of Thyself and keep closer at Thy feet. Amen. "We would see Jesus, for the shadows lengthen Over this little landscape of our life, We would see Jesus, our weak faith to strengthen, For the last weariness, the final strife. We would see Jesus, this is _all_ we're needing; Strength, joy and willingness come with the sight; We would see Jesus, dying, risen, pleading; Then welcome day, and farewell mortal night." Honour and Glory Unto him. IN Revelation V, that great worship scene, beginning some day in heaven and going on into future ages, we read of the Lamb to whom honor and glory are due. He alone is worthy. And every heart who knows Him rejoicing in His love, cries out, "Thou art worthy!" Yea, the sweetest song for the redeemed soul is the outburst of praise, which we find on the threshold of His own Revelation. "Unto Him that loveth us and washed us from our sins in His own blood and hath made us kings and priests unto God and His Father; _to him_ be glory and dominion forever and ever. Amen." Soon the great worship John beheld prophetically may become reality. As long as we His people are here in this present evil age it is God's call to us to honor and glorify His Son. This surely is God the Father's expectation from His children, who are begotten of Him. This is His call to us in the last days of this rapidly closing age. It was on the mountain of transfiguration that the Father bore witness to His Son. "This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased." The Father bore not alone this witness, but He vindicated the honor of His Son, whose glory flashed forth on that mountain. Peter had spoken; in fact, he was still speaking when the Father's voice was heard. "Lord, it is good to be here; if Thou wilt let us make here three tabernacles, one for Thee and one for Moses and one for Elias." These were Peter's words. At the first glance they appear harmless. Indeed, they are generally used in spiritual application of having a good time here. But they have a far different meaning. Peter had spoken once more in the impulsiveness of the flesh. By putting the Lord of Glory alongside of Moses and Elias, he had lowered the dignity of Him. The One whom he had but recently confessed as the Christ, the Son of the living God, he now put into the same position and place with Moses and Elias. He lost sight of the wonderful and glorious person of Christ. When he uttered this human suggestion the Shekinah cloud appeared and its glorious splendor covered them. Out of that cloud came the Father's voice vindicating the honor of His Son. Who is Moses? Who is Elias? Sinful men they were, man of failure and weakness. But here is another. This is my Beloved Son in whom I am well pleased; hear Him. And how that beloved Son is in our day dishonored! He was in all eternity the beloved Son. When God created all things, for Him and by Him, He was the delight of God. This is the foundation of our faith. When he spoke of coming into the world, as we read in Hebrews X, to do the Father's will, the Father's love and delight was upon Him. In humiliation beginning there in Bethlehem He was the beloved Son of God. In all He did, every step of the way, the Holy One had above Himself the loving Father. And then He went to the cross, putting away sin by the sacrifice of Himself. In the awful suffering on the cross, in the hours of darkness, when as the substitute of sinners He tasted death, God's holy hand rested upon that beloved One in judgment, so that He uttered that never to be forgotten cry "My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?" And God in His mighty power opened the grave and brought Him forth. He raised Him from the dead. He was received up in the Glory, exalted into the highest position. He is the heir of all things, the upholder of all things, all things consist and exist by Him. God has given Him the pre-eminence in all things. And this blessed One, the beloved Son of God is denied, He is rejected, dishonored and refused. God speaks in Him, by Him, and he who has made known God, in whom redemption for man was procured is dishonored. But how is He dishonored and robbed of His Glory? And where is He dishonored? Not in the world as such so much but in Christendom. The harvest of this destructive and evil criticism of the Bible, rejecting the Bible as the inspired Word of God is being reaped. After the written Word has been attacked and lowered the enemy who stands behind "Higher Criticism" in a disguised form has thrown off the mask and bluntly strikes at the Person of the beloved Son of God. First the devil in the garb of "reverend criticism" denied Isaiah vii:14, the promise of the virgin bringing forth a son, as having anything to do with Christ, and now the harvest, the denial of the virgin birth of our Lord. It would take many pages to mention all how our ever beloved Lord is robbed of His Glory, how His Person is dishonored. This denial of the Person of Christ is the apostasy. It is the very breath of the personal antichrist, the man of sin, which we feel in these last days. The Father's voice is not heard in these days as it was heard on the transfiguration mountain. The heavens are silent to all the dishonor heaped upon Him, who is in the heaven of heavens. But God the Father looks to His people in whom the Holy Spirit dwells to honor and glorify His Son. The Holy Spirit gives us the power to stand as bold witnesses for Himself and to contend earnestly for the faith once and for all delivered unto the Saints. The Father expects us that we stand up for the honor of His Son. His voice to us is "_Honor my Son!_" We feel deeply impressed with this great call of God to us at the present time of increasing darkness and apostasy. Let each child of God act accordingly. Honor your Lord wherever you are. "Be thou not ashamed of the testimony of our Lord" (2 Tim. i:8). If you cannot publicly stand up and honor Christ then honor Him, speak well of Him, in the home circle or wherever you are. O child of God, walk close to Him! Sit more at His feet! Cast yourself more upon Him! Let Him be your all in all! And as He is the sole object of your heart you will honor Him in the day when He is rejected. But this will mean something else. It means separation. God's call to His people is to stand aloft from all which dishonors His Son. This means much in our days. How can we honor the Beloved One if we have fellowship with that which dishonors Him? No child of God should go on with any institution, school or church where the written Word is set aside or belittled. The second Epistle of Timothy, which has special reference to our times is very clear on this separation. No one needs to wait for a special call from God to act and separate from the corruption of Christendom. It is all given before hand by the Holy Spirit. "From such turn away" (2 Tim. iii:5). And those from whom God commands us to separate are persons who have the form of godliness and deny the power thereof. Again it is written: "But in a great house there are not only vessels of gold and of silver, but also of wood and of earth, and some to honor and some to dishonor. If a man therefore purge himself from these, he shall be a vessel unto honor, sanctified and meet for the master's use, prepared unto every good work" (2 Tim. ii:20-21). Hear the Word of the Lord! Hear His call! Be faithful to Him! Keep His Word and do not deny His Name! Honor and glorify Him who is our Lord whom we soon shall see face to face. Christ's Resurrection Song. WHEN the blessed Lord appeared in the midst of His disciples and they beheld the risen One in His glorified body of flesh and bones and He ate before them, He told them that all things which were written in the Law of Moses, and the Prophets and _in the Psalms_ concerning Him, had to be fulfilled (Luke xxiv:44). While on the way to Emmaus He said to the two sorrowing and perplexed disciples "Ought not Christ to have suffered these things, and to enter into His glory? And beginning at Moses and all the prophets he expounded unto them all the Scriptures the things concerning Himself." It seems to us He must have then spoken much of the Psalms, these wonderful prayers and songs of praise, with which His Jewish disciples were so familiar. In the Psalms the richest prophecies concerning Christ are found. There we behold Him in His divine perfections as well as in His true humanity; in His suffering and in His glory; in His rejection and in His exaltation. Oh that we, the Lord's people, might read the Psalms more, so that the Holy Spirit can reveal Christ more to our hearts. In many unexpected places we can find Him in these songs. There is for instance the xxxvii Psalm, so much enjoyed by the Saints of God. It contains such precious exhortations to faith, to be patient and to hope. But in taking the comfort of these blessed exhortations and their accompanying promises, we are apt to overlook some verses which tell us of our Lord. Verses 30-33 apply to Him. "The mouth of the righteous speaketh wisdom and His tongue talketh of judgment. The law of His God is in His heart; none of His steps shall slide. The wicked watcheth the righteous, and seeketh to slay Him. Jehovah will not leave Him in his hand, nor condemn Him when He is judged." Our Lord is this righteous One. Words of wisdom and judgment, mercy and truth flowed from His lips while righteousness in heart and life, and perfect obedience were manifested in Him. Then His death and deliverance are indicated in these words. However, care must be taken not to apply all the experiences of the Psalms to Christ. We saw recently an exposition of Psalm xxxviii:7. The words "For my loins are filled with a loathsome disease and there is no soundness in my flesh" were applied to Christ. This is a very serious mistake. He knew no sin and therefore no loathsome disease could fill His loins. Such exposition is evil. Many joyous expressions of praise to God are found in the Psalms which properly belong first to Him, who is the leader of the praises of His people (Heb. ii:12). One of these sweet outbursts of praise is contained in the opening verses of the xl Psalm. The first three verses may be called "the resurrection song of Christ": "I waited patiently for the Lord, And He inclined unto me And heard my cry. He brought me up also Out of an horrible pit, Out of the miry clay; And set my feet upon a rock, Established my goings. And He has put a new song in my mouth; Praise unto our God; Many shall see it and fear, And shall trust in the Lord." It is the experience of our Saviour, which must here first of all be considered. Patiently He had waited for Jehovah. Himself Jehovah He had taken the place of dependence under God His Father and patiently He endured. He was obedient unto death, the death of the cross. He endured the cross, despising the shame. He cried to God. "Who in the days of His flesh, when He had offered up prayers and supplications with strong crying and fears unto Him that was able to save Him from death, and _was heard_ in that he feared; though He were Son, yet learned He obedience by the things which He suffered" (Heb. v:7-8). The place of death is given in this Psalm: "the horrible pit and the miry clay." Who can describe all what is meant by these words! "Surely He hath borne our griefs, and carried our sorrows; yet we did esteem Him stricken and smitten of God and afflicted. But He was wounded for our transgressions, the chastisement of our peace was upon Him; and with His stripes we are healed" (Isa. liii:45). He went into the horrible pit, or as it reads literally, the pit of destruction, the place which belongs to fallen man by nature, so that we might be taken out of it. He went into the jaws of death and there the billows and waves, yea all the billows and waves of the judgment of the holy God passed over Him. In another Psalm the Holy Spirit describes His agony. (Ps. lxix). There we read His cry "Save me, O God; for the waters are come in unto my soul. I sink in deep mire, where there is no standing; I am come into deep waters, where the floods overflow me. I am weary of my crying, my throat is dried; mine eyes fail while I wait for my God." And deeper He went for our sakes. The miry clay has a special meaning. Any one who sinks into a pit filled with miry clay cannot help himself. All his struggling does not help; the more he labors the deeper he sinks. One who is in the miry clay cannot save himself. And does this not remind us of the Lord and of what was said of Him "He saved others, Himself He cannot save." He was in the miry clay. He might have saved Himself but He would not. His mighty love it was, that love which passeth knowledge, which brought Him from Heaven's Glory down to the horrible pit, the miry clay. But the sufferings of our adorable Lord are not so much before us in this Psalm as the fact of His resurrection. His cry was heard. The prayers and supplications with strong crying and tears were answered; His resurrection from the dead was God's blessed answer. While in other Scriptures it is stated that Christ Himself arose, here His resurrection is seen as an act of God. "He brought me up." This act of God bears witness to the completeness and perfection of the accomplished salvation. "We believe in Him who raised up Jesus our Lord from the dead. Who was delivered for our offences and was raised again for our justification" (Rom. iv:24-25). But we read also that His feet were set upon a rock. "And set my feet upon a rock." He is the first born from the dead. Sin and death are abolished by His mighty work. "Knowing that Christ being raised from the dead dieth no more; death hath no more dominion over Him. For in that He died, He died unto sin once, but in that He liveth, He liveth unto God" (Rom. vi:9-10). Upon that rock the feet of every believing sinner securely rest. But His ascension is likewise mentioned in this resurrection song. "And established my goings." He "whose goings forth have been from old, from everlasting" (Micah v:2) and who came from everlasting glory to walk in obedience to the cross and the grave has gone back into heaven. He was received up into glory; He ascended on high and led captivity captive. And the mighty victor sings now a _new song_. It is the triumphant song of redemption, to the praise of God. On account of Him, what He has accomplished in His death on the cross and Who is raised from the dead and in glory "many shall see it and fear and shall trust in the Lord." But this wonderful resurrection song the Lord sings not alone. We, who have trusted in Him and know Him have part in this song. Believing in Him we are taken out, yea forever, from the terrible pit and the miry clay. There is no more death and no more wrath for us. We are also risen with Him, our feet are planted upon the rock, our goings are established. We belong to the heavenlies where He is. We sing praises in His name unto our God, His God and our God, His Father and our Father, the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ. Oh! that our hearts may enter deeper into this song of accomplished redemption "praise unto our God;" the loving God who spared not His only Begotten. And indeed "many shall see and fear and trust in the Lord." This reaches into the future. Israel too will be taken from the place of spiritual and national death, and raised to life to join the new song. Nations will see it and fear and trust Jehovah. At last the great new song of resurrection and the new creation will swell in its divinely revealed length and breadth, heighth and depth. Now He sings the song, and His co-heirs sing it too in feebleness, yet by His Grace and through His Spirit. Ere long in His presence all the Redeemed will praise in Glory with glorified lips. Heavenly beings will utter their praise and in a wider circle down on earth, every creature will join in. "And they sung a _new song_ saying, Thou art worthy to take the book and to open the seals thereof; for thou was slain, and hast redeemed us to God by thy blood, out of every kindred and tongue, and people, and nation. And hast made us unto _our_ God, Kings and priests, and we shall reign over the earth. And I beheld, and I heard the voice of many angels round about the throne and the living creatures and the elders; and the number of them was ten thousand times ten thousand, and thousands of thousands. Saying with a loud voice, Worthy is the Lamb that was slain to receive power, and riches, and wisdom, and strength and honor, and glory and blessing. And every creature which is in heaven, and on the earth and under the earth, and such as are in the sea, and all that are in them, heard I saying, blessing, and honor, and glory and power, be unto Him that sitteth on the throne, and unto the lamb forever and ever" (Revel. v:9-13). That song will never end. Oh may we learn to sing it now, and in His Name sing praises unto our God. May we follow the great leader of Praise, Him who is anointed with the oil of gladness above His fellows. May the path He followed down here become more and more ours. May we serve, be obedient, give up, wait patiently for the Lord, after His own pattern, suffer with Him, be rejected with Him, bear His reproach and through it all rejoice in Him and sing "the new song." How happy we ought to be as linked with Him, the blessed Christ of God. And as we walk in His fellowship the heart longs to see Him as He is. Even so; come Lord Jesus. The Glory Song. Rev. i:5-6. "UNTO Him who loveth us and washed us from our sins in His own blood and hath made us kings and priests unto God and His Father: To Him be glory and dominion forever and ever, Amen" (Rev. i:5-6). This great outburst of praise may well be called "the Glory Song." It glorifies the Lord Jesus Christ; it reveals also the Glory of those He has redeemed and will be heard throughout eternity. There will never be a moment in the countless ages of eternity when this Glory song will be hushed or forgotten. We begin to sing it here on earth. The more we know the Christ of God and His great love for us, the more we delight to praise and to worship Him. Such worship of the heart in the power of the Spirit is the atmosphere of heaven upon earth. And some day we shall see Him whom we worship and adore in faith. In that glorious moment, when we shall see Him as He is we shall realize for the first time the length and breadth, the heighth and depth of His love and know the Glory to which He has brought us. Then we and all the redeemed will sing this song in a better and more perfect way than we have ever done here. "Thou art worthy * * * for Thou wast slain and hast redeemed us to God by Thy blood out of every kindred, and tongue, and people and nation; and hast made us unto our God kings and priests and we shall reign over the earth" (Rev. v:9, 10). This blessed Word of Praise is placed by the Holy Spirit in the foreground of the book which bears the name, the Revelation, or, Unveiling of Jesus Christ. In it is found the great unveiling of the future, the great coming tribulation and judgment period through which the earth must pass, events which precede the glorious manifestation of the Lord. But in this last great Bible book there is also a complete unveiling of the Person, the Glory and the dignity of Him to whom all judgment is committed. Not alone are in this book many of the prophecies, given of old by the holy men of God, rehearsed, but all He is, His Name, His power, His Glory, His work, and many of his titles are restated. Think of what He is called and how He is described in this book. We find Him called the Son of God, the Son of Man, the Almighty, the Lord, the Alpha, the Omega, the First, the Last, the Beginning of the Creation of God, the Amen, the faithful Witness, the First begotten from the dead, the Word of God, the Lamb, the Lion of the tribe of Judah, the mighty Angel, He that liveth, He that was dead, He that is alive evermore, the Root and Offspring of David, the bright and Morning star, the Prince of the kings of the earth, the King of kings, the Lord of lords. What an array of titles. On earth great ones, kings and princes, have numerous titles. They concern only earthly glories; they are but for a moment. But His titles concern the earth and the heavens. They belong to Him because He is God, while others are acquired through His great work of redemption. His Glory and His dignity are indescribable. One who reads the Book of Revelation and reads it again will be increasingly impressed with the Glory of Him, whom John beheld in all His Majesty. Before the Spirit of God records this Glory song, the utterance of praise to be used and to be enjoyed by redeemed sinners, He mentions three titles of our Lord. The faithful Witness; the First begotten from the dead, and the Prince of the kings of the earth. These three titles take in His earthly life, His redemption work and His future Glory. On earth He was the faithful witness. He glorified the Father. He had come into the world to bear witness unto the truth. He was faithful and nothing marred His witness. He came as the Only begotten of the Father and the faithful witness, the Son of God went to the cross to put away sin by the sacrifice of Himself. The open and empty tomb is the witness that it was perfectly and righteously accomplished. Now He is the First begotten from the dead as well as the First fruits. His death and His resurrection are, therefore, in view in this second title. His glorious future is beheld in the third title, the Prince of the kings of the earth. The kingdoms of the earth belong to Him; He has a perfect right and title to the earth and its government. Now still the god of this age rules, but ere long He comes "whose right it is" and claims His inheritance. In these three wonderful titles we behold all the Son of God as Son of Man has accomplished in His mighty work. He lived the path of faith and obedience on earth, as the faithful witness. He has put away sin and conquered death and the grave as well as him who has the power of death, that is the devil. In the future He will be King of kings and Lord of lords. And then follows this outburst of Praise. The Holy Spirit, who is here on earth to glorify Him, breaks forth at once into singing and directs the heart to worship Him. Beloved readers if the Holy Spirit is ungrieved in us He will lead our hearts into such praise and adoration of the Lord; nothing grieves the Holy Spirit more than when a believer does not appreciate the Lord Jesus Christ and manifest this appreciation by praise and worship. Three things are stated in this blessed doxology: _He loved us._ _He washed us._ _He hath made us._ These three things correspond to the three titles which precede this doxology. Love it was, which brought Him down from the Glory to walk upon this earth in humiliation, the faithful witness, and that love knew and saw the cross. Love led Him there to die for such as we are. What love it was! Who can ever declare it! The true translation is not "who loved us," but "who _loveth_ us." His love is an abiding love. He does nothing but love those who belong to Him, who have trusted Him and are the Beloved of God. Our sins, our weaknesses, our infirmities and failures can never affect or diminish His love. Never, oh child of God, doubt His abiding love. Yea, whatever our circumstances are, in trials, in the hard places, in troubles, burdened with cares and full of anxiety, in all our failures we can look up and say, "He loveth me." It is an ever present and eternal love. Never, oh child of God, measure that love by your changing feeling or by your experience. And this love He manifested by dying for us. He has washed us from our sins in His own blood. To this His title as "The First begotten from the dead" refers. "Who His own self bore our sins in His own body on the tree, that we, being dead to sins, should live unto righteousness, by whose stripes ye are healed" (1 Pet ii:24). The precious blood of Christ has washed us from our sins. They can never come up again. Oh blessed knowledge! Cleansed by His own blood, the precious blood of the Lamb without spot and blemish! And the blessedness of all that is connected with this! Oh, the peace forever flowing From God's thoughts of His own Son! Oh, the peace of simply knowing On the cross that all was done! Peace with God, the blood in heaven Speaks of pardon now to me: Peace with God! the Lord is risen! Righteousness now counts me free. Peace with God is Christ in glory; God is just and God is love; Jesus died to tell the story, Foes to bring to God above. But more than that "He hath made us kings and priests unto God and His Father." This belongs also to His mighty love. His future of Glory as the Prince of the Kings of the earth, the King of kings and Lord of lords, His fathomless love leads Him to share with those for whom He died, whom He purged and fitted by His own blood. He hath made us kings and priests. It is all His work. A more correct translation is "He hath made us a Kingdom." This, however, does not mean that He has linked us with a Kingdom in which we are to be subjects and governed by Him. We are not subjects of a Kingdom, but _are_ a Kingdom, partakers of it in rule with Himself. We shall rule and reign with Him over the earth. And because He will be "a priest upon _His_ throne" (Zech. vi:13) we, too, will be priests. What it all includes, what glories await us, what enjoyment with Him, what riches and blessings, power and honor, no mind can grasp and no tongue nor pen can describe. "To Him be glory and dominion forever and ever, Amen." All glory and dominion to Him! Thou art worthy! Thou art worthy! This is the heart's cry, which really knows Him and is devoted to Him. "Thou art worthy, O Lord, to receive glory and honor and power." Our crowns we cast before Thy throne. Amen and Amen. Reader can you add your "Amen"--your, "be it so" to all this? Do you sing this Glory song? In a day when He, who is worthy, is but little praised, do you praise Him thus? Do you live in the daily enjoyment of His love? Do you give Him the pre-eminence to whom God has given the pre-eminence in all things? Amen! And oh the happy thought, which helps us so in these evil days, that soon He, who loveth us, who washed us, who hath made us a Kingdom and priests, may call us into His own glorious presence. The Firstborn. "THE Firstborn" or "The Firstbegotten" is one of the names of our blessed Lord. It is applied to Him after His resurrection from the dead. As the Only Begotten He came into this world, the unspeakable gift of God to a lost and ruined world; after the accomplishment of His work on the cross He left the earth, He had created, as the Firstborn. As the Firstbegotten He is now in the highest heaven and as the Firstbegotten the Man of Glory He will be sent back to this earth and rule in power and glory. Paul wrote to the Philippians "to write the same things to you, to me indeed is not grievous but for you it is safe" (Phil. iii:1). Peter's preaching in the opening chapters of the Acts might have been called monotonous, for he knew but one theme. The Spirit of God filling him gave but one message and that was, the rejected Jesus of Nazareth risen from the dead. In the Gospel of the Glory of the blessed God (1 Tim. i:11), as revealed to the Apostle of the Gentiles we have one theme, one abiding, ever satisfying, eternal object and that is Christ who died for our sins, risen from the dead, as Firstborn in Glory and our blessed union with Him. Paul who knew Him as the Firstborn so well found it not grievous to write the same thing. Indeed the more He knew Him the more His heart cried out "that I may know Him" (Phil. iii:10). There is an attraction in Him which is supernatural. Every child of God will increasingly enjoy the contemplation of this old yet ever new and blessed theme, the Firstborn from the dead. Only in this our hearts can find perfect rest and abiding joy. And if your heart, dear reader, is not attracted and absorbed by Himself, it is because there is a broken communion between you and your Lord. Oh, return unto thy rest, my soul! The drifting masses of Christendom have no use for such a theme. The words written in 2 Cor. iv:3-4 find a fearful application in our time. "But if our gospel be hid, it is hid to them that are lost: In whom the god of this age hath blinded the minds of them which believe not, lest the light of the glorious gospel of Christ who is the image of God, should shine unto them." How little of the Gospel of the Glory is preached! It is not wanted. All the present day preaching of ethics, of doing good, self improvement and self culture is anti-christian. The preaching which leaves out the cross of Christ, the resurrection of Christ, the Glory of Christ, differs not in the least from the ethical-philosophical jumble of Buddhistic and other oriental heathen teachers. It is an awful thing which is done in Christendom today, this rejection of the Lord, the Firstborn. Some day and that soon, God will judge those who have rejected that Gospel and deal with them for the sin of all sins which is unbelief (John xvi:9). But our hearts, beloved in the Lord, must turn more and more to Him and find their delight in Him, who is the Firstbegotten. And this we shall do now by meditating on a few Scriptures which tell us of Him. "He is the _Firstborn_ from the dead" (Col. i:18). "Jesus Christ, who is the faithful witness, the _Firstbegotten_ of the dead, and the Prince of the Kings of the earth" (Rev. i:5). What blessed declarations these are! In the first chapter of Colossians it is fully revealed who He is, who was dead and who is alive for evermore. Not a creature but the Creator, the one who images forth God, because He is God. By Him were all things created, "that are in heaven, and that are on earth, visible and invisible, thrones or dominions, or principalities, or powers; all things were created by Him and for Him." And such a One made peace through the blood of His cross. Such a One took our place on the cross of shame, tasted death in our stead and all the billows of wrath and judgment passed over His holy head. Because He wrought out our redemption it is complete and perfect. Raised from the dead, not held by death but bursting forth, leading captivity captive, He is the Firstborn and to Him belongs all Glory and Power. "But now is Christ risen from the dead, and become the _Firstfruits_ of them that slept" (1 Cor. xv:20). By His glorious resurrection He became the Firstfruits. All who believe in Him will rise too by virtue of being one with Him, who is the Resurrection and the Life. The mighty power of God which raised Him from the dead and seated Him in the highest place, at His own right hand, that exceeding greatness of His power is towards us, who believe. That power has quickened us with Christ, raised us up together and seated us in the heavenly. In some future day that mighty power, which raised Him so that He became the Firstfruits will raise all the saints to meet Him in the air. "And again, when He bringeth in the _Firstbegotten_ into the world, He saith, and let all the angels of God worship Him" (Heb. i:6). God will bring the Firstbegotten back to this earth again. This is a very strong passage revealing the second coming of Christ to this earth. The same blessed Person, who walked on this earth as man, who is Emanuel, God with us, who died on the cross for our sins, who became the Firstbegotten from the dead, the Firstfruits of them that slept, He who is now as Man in Glory, the same Person, the Firstbegotten, will be brought back to this world by the power of God. Then worshipping angels will be His attendants and He will bring His Saints with Him. "For whom He foreknew, He also did predestinate, to be conformed to the image of His Son, that He might be the _Firstborn_ among many brethren" (Romans viii:29). Conformed to the glorious image of God's ever blessed Son, the Lord Jesus Christ, is the destiny of all, who have cast themselves as lost sinners upon Christ and have been saved by Grace through faith. It is true even now by beholding as in a glass the glory of the Lord we are changed into the same image from glory to glory, even as by the Spirit of the Lord (2 Cor. iii:18). It is true if we abide in Him, we shall walk even as He walked (1 John ii:6). The exhortation in our great salvation Epistle is, not to be conformed to this age, but to be transformed, or as it might be translated, transfigured (Rom. xii:2). _But_ to be fully conformed to the image of His Son is never to be expected in this world, where sin is ever present; When the Firstbegotten calls us into His own presence, when the Heir of God summons His beloved co-heirs to meet Him and to enter with Him into the blood-bought inheritance, then each saved sinner will be conformed to the image of Himself. Each will shine forth the excellencies of the Firstbegotten. _We shall be like Him for we shall see Him as He is._ Hallelujah! This is why God gave up His Son, that He might be able to lift those who are His enemies by wicked works into the Sonplace and make them like His Son in Glory. "Yet have I set my King upon my holy hill of Zion. I will declare the degree; the Lord hath said unto Me, Thou art my _Son_; this day have I begotten Thee" (Ps. ii:6-7). In this prophecy He is likewise seen as the Firstbegotten. It does not mean the eternal Son of God, for as such He had no beginning, but the day in which He was begotten is the third day when He was raised from the dead. Paul gives us this truth when He spoke to the Jews in Antioch and said: "God hath fulfilled the same unto us their children, in that He hath raised up Jesus again; as it is also written in the second Psalm, Thou art my Son, this day have I begotten Thee" (Acts xiii:33). Up to this time He is not yet enthroned upon the holy hill of Zion. When He returns as the Firstbegotten and finds the nations of the earth not converted, but in opposition to Him (Ps. ii:1-3), He will become the King and take His throne. "Also I will make Him my _Firstborn_, higher than the Kings of the earth" (Ps. lxxxix:27). This reveals the exalted station, which He will assume, when His blessed feet touch this earth again. He will be the King of kings, and the Lord of lords. This is the Glory of the Firstborn, the loving Sinbearer who endured the cross and despised the shame. He is the Heir of God, the Heir of all things, the Head of all principality and power, the Head of His redeemed people, the church. He that filleth all in all, the Firstborn, will share His glorious title and possessions with His redeemed. The church to which God's marvelous Grace has brought us is the church of the _Firstborn_. (Heb. xii:23), because the Firstborn is the Head and beginning and those who are begotten again by the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead have their portion with the Firstborn. Oh! glorious future we have as His redeemed people! God our Father, the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, by Thy Holy Spirit, keep the Glory of Thy Son, the Firstborn, before our hearts, that we may be changed into the same image and overcome in these dark and evil days. Amen. Soon shall our eyes behold Thee With rapture, face to face; And, resting there in glory, We'll sing Thy pow'r and grace: Thy beauty, Lord, and glory, The wonders of Thy love, Shall be the endless story Of all Thy saints above. The Waiting Christ. WAITING for the coming of the Lord is one of the blessed characteristics of true Christianity. In the parable of the ten virgins the three great marks of a true believer are stated by our Lord. These are: _Separation_, indicated by the virgins having gone forth. _Manifestation_, they had lamps, which are for the giving of light, and _Expectation_, they went forth to meet the Bridegroom. With five of them it was only an outward profession. The foolish virgins are the type of such who are Christians in name only and do not know the reality of these characteristics. The Lord knew them not. These three characteristics are seen in Paul's first epistle to the Thessalonians. That model assembly was composed of such members who possessed these three things. They had turned to God from idols (separation); they served the true and the living God (manifestation); they waited for His Son from heaven (expectation), 1 Thess. i:9, 10. The same is revealed in the epistle to Titus. "For the Grace of God that bringeth salvation hath appeared to all men." That Grace accepted separates unto God. "Teaching us that, denying ungodliness and worldly lusts, we should live soberly, righteously and godly, in this present world." This is manifestation. The Grace of God enables us to live thus. "Looking for that blessed hope and the glorious appearing of the great God and our Saviour Jesus Christ." Here we have expectation. Other similar passages could be quoted. If we divide the New Testament Scriptures into three parts we have the same order. In the Gospels the Grace of God in the Son of God appeared. In the Epistles we are taught how to manifest Him by walking in the Spirit. The great New Testament prophetic book, the Revelation, looks on towards His Coming. And how His Coming is forgotten! How few of His people truly wait for Him! How few pray that important and almost forgotten prayer, Even so, Come Lord Jesus! But we must also remember that our Lord is likewise waiting. Innumerable multitudes of disembodied spirits who are saved by Grace are waiting in His own presence for the moment when they will receive their resurrection bodies, which will be when He descends from Heaven and comes into the air. The faithful remnant of His people on earth wait for His Coming. Israel and all creation wait for Him as well as the unseen beings in the Heavenly. _But He Himself is waiting._ This is the testimony of the Word of God. First it is the subject of prophecy. In the brief but great 110th Psalm that waiting is predicted. The Christ, who is so often seen in the Psalms and in the Prophets as King, ruling in His earthly kingdom, whose glories in that rule are so blessedly described, is seen in the beginning of that Psalm seated at the right hand of God; this heavenly place will be occupied by Him till His enemies are made His footstool. How the Holy Spirit witnessed to this fact at once after His descent on the day of Pentecost is more fully revealed in the second chapter of Acts. In Hebrews x:13 we read of His waiting attitude in heaven. "But _this man_, after He had offered one sacrifice for sins forever, sat down at the right hand of God, from henceforth expecting till His enemies be made His footstool." The better word for expecting is "waiting." We may well emphasize the word "Man." Our blessed Lord is not in the presence of God as a Spirit Being, but He is there in the form of Man. The blessed body He had on earth, which He gave on the cross and which laid in the tomb could not see corruption. He was raised on the third day. He ascended in that glorified body into heaven and He is on the right hand of God as Man, in Him dwells the fullness of the Godhead bodily. Just one Man is there in Glory. But oh! what it means! He is the Head of His body, the church and in the future all His redeemed people will possess glorified bodies, like unto His glorious body. No wonder the enemy ever aims at the denial of the Lord's bodily presence. From many pulpits it is declared to be "too material." The denial of this great truth, the _Man_ in glory, is a denial of the entire Gospel. It is at this the enemy strikes. As the glorified Man on the Father's throne He is waiting till His enemies are made His footstool. This does not mean, as so many believe and teach, that the Lord Jesus Christ is waiting till His enemies are gradually overcome, till the church on earth succeeds in converting the whole world. It does not mean that. His enemies will be made His footstool in a far different way. It will be a sudden event. All His enemies will be humbled, all things will be subjected under His feet at the time of His second Coming. As there was an appointed time by the Father for His first Coming, so is there an appointed time for His second Coming, when the power of God and His own power will triumph over all His enemies. As He is in His redemptive work subject to the Father, therefore is He waiting for that hour. Then the Father will bring in the firstbegotten into the world (Heb. i:6) and He will receive the nations for His inheritance (Psalm ii). He is waiting for this great event. But He is also waiting for His co-heirs, which constitute the church. The church, His body, must be first completed as to numbers before the hour can come in which His enemies are made His footstool. He is patiently waiting for that moment. John speaks of that when he calls himself "a companion in tribulation and in the kingdom and _patience_ of Jesus Christ" (Rev. i:9). Centuries have come and gone since He took that place upon the Father's throne, unseen by human eyes, and during all this time, while the calling out of the church proceeded, He has waited patiently. Some day His waiting will come to an end. His church will be completed and then He Himself arises from His seat and descends to that place in the air, where He will meet His own, for whom His loving heart yearns so much. What a moment that will be at last! Then His waiting as well as His patience will be ended and He will receive His kingdom and be crowned Lord of lords and King of kings. No longer will He then be unseen, but His Glory will flash out of heaven and He Himself will be manifested in Glory. Then the world can reject Him no longer but must accept His righteous rule in which His redeemed people will share. What child of God does not wish this to be soon, very soon. Oh that we might cry more earnestly, more in the Spirit, yes, incessantly, "Come Lord Jesus." But while He waits and the hour has not yet come we must wait as He waits on the throne. To the Thessalonians who had listened to teachers who judaized the blessed hope, fearing they were facing the day of the Lord with its tribulation and wrath, the Apostle wrote: "And the Lord direct your hearts in the love of God, and into the patient waiting for Christ" (2 Thess. iii:5). But we must not only wait patiently _for_ Him but also wait _with_ Him. He is the rejected One. The world cast Him out. As the rejected One He waits in patience for the hour of His triumph and His Glory. This place of rejection is our greatest privilege to share. And where is He more rejected than in that which calls itself by His Name! To bear His reproach in these closing days of this present age is our blessed opportunity. To suffer with Him, if not for Him, should be that for which our hearts should long, yea, pray. And we will be glad to be rejected with Him, to be nothing at this present time, to have fellowship with His sufferings, if He as the patient waiting Lord is ever before our hearts. At the close of the one hundred and tenth psalm stands a word, which we should also remember. "He shall drink of the brook in the way, Therefore shall He lift up the head." It has puzzled many readers what this saying might mean. It speaks to our hearts of His humiliation and exaltation. One thinks at once of the three hundred of Gideon and how they stooped down to drink. The brook is the type of death. He drank of the brook in the way. His way was from Glory to Glory, and between were His sufferings. And, therefore, He shall lift up the head. Wherefore, God has highly exalted Him. May we all, dear readers, follow in His path and suffer with Him; ere long in His triumph and glory we shall triumph and glory. "And if children then heirs; heirs of God and joint heirs with Christ; if so be we suffer with Him, that we may be also glorified together. For I reckon that the sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory which shall be revealed in us" (Rom. viii:17-18). A Vision of the King. ONE of the most blessed occupations for the believer is the prayerful searching of God's holy Word to discover there new glories and fresh beauties of Him, who is altogether lovely. Shall we ever find out all which the written Word reveals of Himself and His worthiness? This wonderful theme can never be exhausted. The heart which is devoted to Him and longs through the presence and indwelling of the Holy Spirit to be closer to the Lord, to hear and know more of Himself, will always find something new and precious. The Holy Spirit can do this and reveals to our hearts from the inexhaustible Word of God the Glory of Him, whom to exalt the Spirit has come. Much depends on how we desire just Himself. And Christ alone and the heart knowledge of Himself can satisfy the believer, who has His life and is one Spirit with the Lord "O Christ Thou art enough The heart to satisfy." Soon we shall see Him, whom we contemplate now in faith. Soon we shall be in His own glorious presence and look upon that face, which was once marred and smitten, but which now shines out Heaven's and the Father's Glory. The kingly Glory of our blessed Lord is one of the great themes of the Bible. The Man of humiliation, who here on earth walked in dependence on God, who did His will, suffered and died is now in the Father's presence and on the right hand of the Majesty on high. There He sat down with His Father in His throne, waiting for the moment when His work as the Priest and Advocate of His beloved people on earth is accomplished, and when the Father will establish Him as King, when He will receive the kingdom. Alas! that all this glory, which belongs to Him and which is still future, His Kingship, His kingly glory and rule, as it must be some day, is so unknown and even disowned in Christendom. It is but the uncovering of the condition of the heart of the great majority of professing Christians. They may talk of religion, of great reform movements, of service to mankind, world progress, but the Christ of God in all His Glory, past, present and future, has little attraction. Far different it is with the heart which knows Him and has given Him the place He is worthy of, the first place. That heart delights to meditate on all His Glory and longs for the time when He will appear, and when at last, crowned with many crowns, He will assume His righteous rule. Great is our joy and delight when we follow through the Scriptures His earthly life so full of His moral Glory. Or when we think of Him as He died for us and bore in His own body on the tree our sins; we praise Him for His mighty Love. But what joy to think of Him as coming at last into that which belongs to Him the Lord of Glory, by right of redemption, when He will take possession of this earth and claim its Satan ruled kingdoms for His own. Then it will be true, "The earth is the Lord's and the fulness thereof; the world, and they that dwell therein." Then the Seraph's song will be realized, "The whole earth is full of His Glory." How much the Word has to say about the King and His Glory; and we have never yet taken hold of it with our dull hearts! Take the Book of Psalms, for instance, that book which has been so belittled by the destructive criticism. While we read so much in those precious productions of the Holy Spirit of Christ's sufferings, His humiliation, His prayers, His death, we may find there much more about Him as King and His coming manifestation. The tumult of the nations, as predicted in the _Second_ Psalm, and about to be realized in our own times, the tumult of the nations against the Lord and His Anointed, will be silenced by the coming of the King. "I have set my King upon my holy hill of Zion;" this is what God declares. The God-man Christ Jesus, the Man, who is with Him now is, His King. His destiny is the government of the nations, with a rod of iron. The entire _Twenty-first_ Psalm tells out the Glory of the King. Christian expositors have rarely discovered this. But Jewish exponents always knew it. Saith a leading Jewish authority of the middle ages: "Our old teachers have always applied this Psalm as meaning the King Messiah." Read its stanzas: "The King shall joy in Thy strength, Jehovah; And in Thy salvation, how greatly shall He rejoice. Thou hast given Him His heart's desire, And hast not withholden the requests of His lips. For Thou hast met Him with the blessings of goodness; Thou hast set a crown of pure gold on His head. He asked Life of Thee; Thou gavest Him length of days forever and ever. His Glory is great through Thy salvation; Majesty and splendor hast Thou laid upon Him. For Thou hast made Him to be blessings forever; Thou hast filled Him with joy by Thy countenance. For the King confideth in Jehovah. Through the loving kindness of the Highest He shall not be moved." Then comes His future action, when He whom faith sees now crowned with Majesty and Splendor, who rejoices in the Presence of God, appears to execute the judgments of God. "Thy hand shall find out all thine enemies; Thy right hand shall find out those that hate Thee. Thou shalt make them as a fiery furnace In the time of Thy presence. Jehovah shall swallow them up in his anger, And the fire shall devour them. Their fruit shall Thou destroy from the earth, And their seed from among the children of men. For they intended evil against Thee, They imagined a mischievous device, Which they could not execute. For Thou wilt make them turn their back, Thou wilt make ready Thy bowstring against their faces. Be Thou exalted Jehovah in Thine own strength; We will sing and celebrate Thy power." And in the _Twenty-fourth_ Psalm we have prophetically that triumphant shout, which will be heard when the King comes back to enter His City, Jerusalem, again. "Lift up your heads, ye gates And be ye lifted up, ye everlasting doors; And the King of Glory shall come in. Who is this King of Glory? Jehovah strong and mighty, Jehovah mighty in battle." The _Forty-fifth_ Psalm is a song of the Beloved, touching the King. He is described as coming in His Majesty and Splendor, how He deals with His enemies and that He will be surrounded by His own redeemed ones. The Glory and dominion of His Kingdom He will receive is described in the _Seventy-second_ Psalm. "He shall have dominion from sea to sea, and from the river unto the ends of the earth." And other Psalms enlarge upon these glorious visions, which will all be true when the King comes. Then Jerusalem will be a praise in the earth. "Also I will make Him, my Firstborn, higher than the kings of the earth" (Ps. lxxxix:27). And how rich are the prophets in telling us of the Glory of the King and the glories of His kingdom. "Behold a King shall rule in righteousness, and princes shall rule in judgment" (Isaiah xxxii:1). "Thine eyes shall see the King in His beauty; they shall behold the land that is afar off" (Isaiah xxxiii:17). "A King shall reign and prosper, and shall execute judgment and justice in the earth" (Jerem. xxiii:5). "And there was given Him dominion and glory, and a kingdom, that all people, nations and languages, should serve Him; His dominion is an everlasting dominion, which shall not pass away, and His Kingdom, that which shall not be destroyed" (Dan. vii:14). "The King of Israel, the Lord, is in the midst of thee (the earthly Jerusalem); thou shalt not see evil any more" (Zeph. iii:15). "And the Lord shall be King over all the earth" (Zech. xiv:6). These and many, many more utterances of God's blessed prophets give us a vision of the King, of the Glory of Him, who was crowned with a crown of thorns, the thorns of man's curse, and over whose cross it was written, "Jesus of Nazareth, the King of the Jews." And the New Testament fully brings out the same Glory of Him as King. He is "King of Peace" (Heb. vii:2); "King of saints" (Rev. xv:3); "The Lord of lords and King of kings" (Rev. xvii:14). At last the unfulfilled message of Gabriel will be gloriously fulfilled. "The Lord God shall give unto Him the Throne of His father David; and He shall reign over the house of Jacob forever; and of His kingdom there shall be no end" (Luke i:32). But nowhere is He called "King of the church," nor are we authorized as believers to address Him "Our King." He will be King, but then He will not be our King, but we shall _be Kings with Him_. He is not King of the church, but the Head of the Body, the church; Head and Body together, Christ and His church, will rule and reign over the earth. Glory to His Name! In loving tenderness He looks upon us, who possess His life, He is not ashamed to call us "brethren," for He is Man, the second Man, and He beholds in us those, who will ere long share His Kingly Glory, His Kingly rule. Oh, Beloved readers! does it not warm our hearts! Does it not make us feel like falling down on our faces and confess to Him our indifference and our nothingness, and humble ourselves in the dust. How little, oh how little we enter into all this. The Lord help us to have through His Word and in the power of His Spirit a greater vision of the King and our blessed, eternal lot with Him. They crown Him King on high; Shall we not crown Him here, The blessed Christ of Calvary, To ransomed sinners dear? They worship Him above, Shall we not worship too, The Son of God, the Lord of love, To whom all praise is due? Up there they see His Face, The Lamb who once was slain, And in a new song praise His Grace; Shall we not join the strain? Yonder His servants still Serve as their Lord commands; Oh may we also do His will With loving hearts and hands.--M. F. The Fellowship of His Son. "GOD is faithful, by whom ye were called into the fellowship of His Son Jesus Christ our Lord" (1 Cor. i:9). A blessed word this is. By nature the Corinthians were in another fellowship. The same Epistle (vi:9-11) tells us what some of them were. Like ourselves by nature they were in the fellowship of sin and death and in fellowship with him, who is the author of sin and the enemy of God, Satan. But a faithful God called them and has called us by the Gospel into the fellowship of His Son Jesus Christ our Lord. If we have obeyed the Gospel and accepted the gift of God we are brought through the Grace of God into the fellowship of the Son of God. All believers are in the same fellowship, one with the Lord. But that is a truth and a blessed revelation far deeper than our mind can fathom or our pen could describe. No saint has ever sounded the depths of this wonderful call of God nor can God's saints fully know what that fellowship all means, until the blessed day comes when we shall see Him as He is and when joined to Him we shall be like Him. And yet we can remind ourselves of the little we know and through it encourage our hearts. Faith loves to dwell upon the blessed Person, whom faith alone through the Spirit's power can make a living reality. And God, the faithful God, loves to hear His children speak much of Him, whom He loves, the Son of His Love, the Lord Jesus Christ. Fellowship means to have things in common. And that is what God has done. He has taken us through His Grace out of the fellowship in which we are by nature, the things we have in common as enemies and children of wrath and has called us into the fellowship of His Son. And now called of God into this fellowship we have things in common with His Son the Lord Jesus Christ. This brings before us once more the old story, which never grows old, but is eternally new and becomes more blessed the more we hear it. The Son of God, He who is the true God and the eternal Life, came to this earth and appeared in the form of Man. "The Life was manifested; and we have seen, and bear witness, and show unto you that eternal life, which was with the Father, and was manifested unto us" (1 John i:2). And He who is the true God and the eternal life, by whom the worlds were made, gave Himself for our sins. He came to give His life as a ransom for many, to make propitiation for the whole world. He who knew no sin was made sin for us and on the Cross peace was made. There in His own body on the tree He bore our sins. All who believe on Him, who have accepted Jesus as their Saviour, are taken out of that in which they are by nature and are brought into Christ. And here we can with praising hearts and full assurance sing of our blessed position in Him. Lord Jesus, are we one with Thee? Oh height, oh depth, of love! And crucified and dead with Thee, Now one in heaven above. Such was Thy grace, that for our sake Thou didst from heaven come down; With us of flesh and blood partake, And make our guilt Thine own. Our sins, our guilt, in love divine, Confessed and borne by Thee; The gall, the curse, the wrath, were Thine, To set Thy ransomed free. Ascended now, in glory bright, Life-giving Head Thou art; Nor life, nor death, nor depth, nor height Thy saints and Thee can part. But the fellowship of His Son into which the Grace of God has brought us means more than this blessed new relation and the positional truth that as believers we have been crucified with Christ and that we are risen with Him. The life we possess as born again is His own life. We possess the life of Him, who died in our stead. Christ is our life. This means fellowship of His Son, we are one with Him. We also possess His Spirit. The Spirit of Christ dwelleth in us and we are "one Spirit with the Lord." This oneness with Christ, the fellowship of His Son, that we belong to Him and He to us, that we have an inheritance in Him and He has an inheritance in us, is a great truth. Like every other revealed truth it must be a reality in our lives. We are called by God to walk in this fellowship. We know we are in Him, and through Grace we abide in Him. But it is also written, "He that saith he abideth in Him ought himself also so to walk even as He walked." His own life must be manifest. In this fellowship of His Son we have the strength to walk as He walked, because we have His life and His Spirit. There is no need to walk after the flesh, but we can always walk in the Spirit and walking thus we walk as He walked. And this spiritual walk becomes possible as our hearts dwell in faith on the fact that we are called into the fellowship of His Son. We must have this wonderful fact constantly before our hearts as a real thing. Then all we do will be governed by it. If this is real how can we be conformed to this world? The world in all its aspects is the enemy of God. In that fellowship we walked once "according to the course of this world." Should we then turn back to it and enjoy its pleasures and ambitions? If we do, we walk in the flesh and then we do not know the joy and peace of the fellowship of His Son, but are joyless and miserable. But if the fact of the fellowship of God's Son is a reality in power, it will keep us from being conformed to this world. We believe the Spirit of God presses this home to the consciences of His people and calls us to a separated walk. And this must lead to another phase of the fellowship of His Son Jesus Christ. It is written "always bearing about in the body the dying of the Lord Jesus, that the life also of Jesus might be made manifest in our body" (2 Cor. iv:10). This stands in connection with persecution and suffering. Walking in the fellowship of His Son Jesus Christ the Apostle had one great desire, "That I may know Him, and the power of His resurrection, and the fellowship of His sufferings, being made conformable to His death" (Phil. iii:10). To the Colossians he wrote "who now rejoice in my sufferings for you, and fill up that which is behind of the afflictions of Christ in my flesh for His body's sake, which is the church" (Col. i:24). He suffered and bore His reproach. His heart in the enjoyment of the fellowship desired the fellowship of His sufferings. We know little of these because we are conformed to this world and not loyal to our Lord and God's calling. But if we walk in conscious fellowship with Him and are loyal to Him we too will know a little of the fellowship of His sufferings. Then our hearts long that we may "bear His reproach." The blessed One of God is rejected, can our hearts be satisfied with anything less than being rejected too? Perhaps if we were to lift up our voices now against the Christ dishonoring things, both in doctrine and practice, which are the leading features of the present-day religious world, we would know a little more of this fellowship. Called into the fellowship of His Son Jesus Christ our Lord means also to share His work. We are called to serve. He was here as One that serveth, and we are "to serve one another in love." "Whosoever will be great among you let him be your minister; and whosoever will be chief among you, let him be your servant" (Matt. xx:26-27). We can be servants with Him. He is intercessor and burden-bearer and we have a share in this likewise. And there is the fellowship of His Son in its eternal aspect. God's calling is to be like His Son. "For whom He did foreknow, He also predestinated to be conformed to the image of His Son that He might be the firstborn among many brethren" (Romans viii:29). We shall be with Him forever and like Him. And is it so--I shall be like Thy Son? Is this the grace which He for me has won? Father of glory, (thought beyond all thought!)-- In glory, to His own blest likeness brought! Oh, Jesus, Lord, who loved me like to Thee? Fruit of Thy work, with Thee, too, there to see Thy glory, Lord, while endless ages roll, Myself the prize and travail of Thy soul. Yet it must be: Thy love had not its rest Were Thy redeemed not with Thee fully blest. That love that gives not as the world, but shares All it possesses with its loved co-heirs. May the Holy Spirit hold these great truths before our hearts and in His power may we be consciously and constantly enjoying the fellowship of His Son Jesus Christ our Lord, till we are called by Himself to be with Him. Out of His Fulness. John i:16. "AND of His fulness have all we received, and grace upon grace" (John i:16). This precious word was not spoken by John the Baptist. It must be looked upon as an outburst of praise, similar to the one which stands in the beginning of Revelation (Rev. i:5-6). It is the adoring utterance of all believers acknowledging the reception of that unfathomable and never failing grace, which flows from the eternal fountain, the Son of God. Out of the fulness of Himself believing sinners receive grace upon grace. His own fulness is the source, which supplies all the need of those, who by Him believe on God, that raised Him from the dead and gave Him glory (1 Pet. i:2). That exhaustless fulness is always ready to sustain, to help, to comfort, to strengthen and to fill those, who are in Christ, one with Him. But what is this fulness of which we receive and receive so abundantly? The blessed Son of God possessed in all eternity fulness. The Holy Spirit in this chapter bears a testimony to this fact by a great revelation. "In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. The same was in the beginning with God. All things were made by Him; and without Him was not anything made 'that was made.' In Him was life; and the life was the light of men" (John i:1-4). What a wonderful revelation this is! The Word which was in the beginning, which ever _was_ God, by whom all was made, without whom nothing came into existence, is the Son of God. The fulness of the Godhead was His before the world was made, for He is God. Then we read in this chapter, "and the Word was made flesh and dwelt among us and we beheld His glory, the glory as of the only begotten of the Father, full of grace and truth." He came to this earth, He took on the form of man, the eternal Word was made flesh, God manifested in the flesh. And as He walked on the earth the fulness of the Godhead was pleased to dwell in Him (Col. i:19). But before we could ever receive out of His fulness grace upon grace, the Son of God had to die. If He had not died and accomplished the great work for which He came into the world, His fulness would have been forever inaccessible to sinners. But He went to the cross and finished there the great work. Christ died for us; He who knew no sin was made sin for us. And now it is written of Him, the glorified One, the Man in Glory. "For in Him dwelleth all the fulness of the Godhead bodily. And ye are complete in Him, which is the head of all principality and power" (Col. ii:9-10). He, who possessed eternally all fulness, who came to this earth and in whom the fulness of the Godhead dwelt, who died on the cross the just for the unjust, who His own self bore our sins in His own body on the tree, is now as Man in glory and there dwelleth in Him bodily the fulness of the Godhead. It is all for us; we can now receive grace upon grace, because of Him who is the Second Man, the Head of the new creation and with whom God has made us, who believe, one. This is the deep and yet simple Gospel. God gave His blessed Son, who was forever one with Him, that through Him we might receive of the fulness of the Godhead, grace upon grace. Brought to God in such a way, washed, sanctified and justified in the name of the Lord Jesus, and by the Spirit of our God, we are receiving all we need. We receive it not on our merit, because we labor or agonize for it, but we _receive of His fulness_. But who can begin to tell out what that is, grace upon grace? Pages upon pages might be written and filled with the good things, the spiritual blessings, the joy, the peace, the comfort, the power and the wisdom and many other things, which are included in "grace upon grace." And after we mentioned all these precious things, we would have to put the pen down and confess our insufficiency to tell out the riches, the fulness and vastness of "grace upon grace." This expression brings a great cataract like Niagara to our mind. Here we stand and behold the mighty waters rushing down. Oh! the mighty rushing waters, who can measure them! What a vast, inexhaustible supply! Water upon water dashing down. For ages this has gone on. Hundreds of years, more than that, thousands of years have witnessed the same mighty waters. Every day, every hour, every minute, every second, every fraction of a second--incessantly mighty rushing waters upon waters! In the same way there is pouring forth out of His fulness, the fulness of the Lord in Glory--grace upon grace. There is an unlimited, inexhaustible supply of the water of life from Him who is the life. For ages the saints of God, saved by grace, have received grace upon grace. A never ceasing stream of grace has been flowing forth and it has not impoverished the marvellous eternal supply. Still it flows undiminished--still there is grace upon grace. Yea it is grace upon grace by which God's people live. Every hour, every minute, every second, every moment it is His grace, grace upon grace which keeps us, surrounds us, flows upon us and overshadows us. And the more we take and enjoy the more we learn to sing. More and more, more and more, _Always_ more to follow! Oh, His matchless, boundless _Grace_, Still there's more to follow! Will it ever stop? No, never! We shall keep on singing in all eternity "still there's more to follow!--still there's more to follow." Hallelujah! "That in the ages to come He might show the _exceeding_ riches of His Grace in His kindness toward us through Christ Jesus" (Eph. ii:7). _Always more to follow!_ Still there's MORE to follow. All Praise to Him who died to have it so for us poor lost sinners, whose lot should have been, as it is the lot of all who reject this marvellous grace--always more to follow--in eternal darkness and despair. And how simple it is to receive "of His fulness grace upon grace." Look at this never ceasing spring of pure water, it never fails. You approach it a weary, thirsty, dustladen traveler. You need to be refreshed. You need the cooling drink. You need washing. What then is necessary? Oh! to fill your cup. Just to take for it is for you. And so this wonderful grace which flows out of His fulness. It is for you, just come and take. Fill your cup, fill it again! Drink oh drink! "Of His fulness have all we received, grace upon grace." The Twenty-second Psalm. The Cross of Christ. THE Twenty-second Psalm contains a most remarkable prophecy. The human instrument through whom this prophecy was given is King David. The Psalm does not contain the experience of the King, though he passed through great sufferings, yet the sufferings he speaks of in this Psalm are not his own. They are the sufferings of Christ. It is written in the New Testament that the prophets searched and enquired diligently about the coming salvation. The Spirit of Christ, which was in them testified beforehand the sufferings of Christ (1 Peter i:10-11). David was a prophet, and in this great prophecy the Spirit of Christ testified of the sufferings of Him, who is both David's Lord and David's son. The book of Psalms, so rich and full of Himself, so inexhaustible in description of our ever blessed Lord, is divided into five books, which correspond to the five books with which the Bible begins, the Pentateuch. The first book (Psalm i-xli) contains some of the great prophecies about the Christ of God; these prophecies are in the so-called messianic Psalms. Perfect and divine is the order in which they are revealed. _Son of God_--The Second Psalm. _Son of Man_ --The Eighth Psalm. _Obedient One_--The Sixteenth Psalm. _Obedient unto Death_, the Death of the Cross--The Twenty-second Psalm. _Highly exalted by God_--Revealed in each of these Psalms. This is the order in which the Holy Spirit describes the path of the Lord in Phil. ii:6-11. How perfect the Word of God is! The Twenty-second Psalm, the center of the first part of the book of Psalms, the Genesis portion, corresponds to the twenty-second chapter in the book of Genesis. There we see Isaac bound upon the altar having been led there and put upon the altar by his Father while he opened not his mouth. Here we behold the true Isaac on the cross. Everything in this Psalm speaks of our blessed Lord; in the first part of His sufferings, in the second part of His Glory and exaltation. And we must not overlook the two Hebrew words the Holy Spirit has put over this Psalm: _Aijeleth Shahar_. The margin tells us they mean "the hind of the morning." This has a beautiful, though hidden meaning. Some have thought of the innocent suffering of a wounded hind and the dawn of the morning brings relief. They have applied this to the death and resurrection (in the morning dawn) of the Lord. But the meaning is better still. The oldest Jewish traditions give us the key. They take the expression "Aijeleth Shahar" to mean the Shechina, the glory cloud, which was visible among His people and they speak of "the hind of the morning" as being the dawning of redemption. The dawning of the morning is compared by them with the horns of the hind, on account of the rays of light appearing like horns. According to their tradition the lamb was offered as the sacrifice in the morning as soon as the watcher on the pinnacle of the temple cried out "Behold the first rays of morning shine forth." But what pen can describe the predictions and the fulfilment of His sufferings, the sufferings of the Holy One! Here we behold what it cost Him to redeem us. Here we have the full description of what His atoning work meant. Here we see the full meaning of the sin-offering. Well may we bow our heads and hearts here and worship as we gaze upon this picture. The opening word of the Psalm expresses the consummation of all the sufferings of Christ, that word which came from the darkness, which surrounded the cross and in which we are face to face with the unsearchable depths of His atoning work. "My God, My God, why hast Thou forsaken Me." He who was ever with the Father, one with Him in all eternity, who could say on earth "I am not alone" was left alone. He was forsaken of God. But more than that. Jehovah bruised Him; He put Him to grief. The spotless One bore the wrath of God alone. It was then that He who knew no sin was made sin for us. How significant it is then that the Holy Spirit puts that word of the Lord Jesus Christ before the predictions of His physical sufferings. They tell us what our redemption cost Him --the awful price, forsaken of God. The Psalm also emphasizes what man under the terrible instigation of Satan did unto Him. We glance at some of these sufferings as expressed by His own Spirit. "But I am a worm, and not man; a reproach of men, and despised of the people" (verse 6). This is His own complaint. No longer a man but writhing on the ground like a worm, the substitute of sinners, thus the Holy One felt when He was numbered among the transgressors. The Hebrew word "worm", means the small insect, the coccus, from which the scarlet color is obtained by death of this worm, that color which was used in connection with the tabernacle. Thus He died as our substitute that our sins though they are as scarlet might be white as snow. Men reproached Him; His own people despised and rejected Him. Then we read how He was mocked and scoffed at. They "laugh me to scorn," they "shoot out the lip," they "shake the head." The very language of the leaders of the people as they surrounded the cross is given by the Spirit of God. "He trusted on the Lord that He would deliver Him, seeing He delighted in Him" (verse 7). What depths of the depravity of the human heart they reveal! And in all this, while He suffered thus from man His sole trust was in God (verses 9-10). His whole life was to trust in the Lord to lean upon Him, till that moment came when God could no longer know Him as His own, when the sword, the sword of judgment awoke against the Man, the fellow, the companion of the Lord of hosts (Zech. xiii:7). What that sword did to Him is expressed by the cry of the forsaken One. And what else do we find here? We can follow the whole story of the cross in the first part of this Psalm. His enemies are described, the bulls and the ravening and roaring lion.--"I am poured out like water."--"All my bones are out of joint."--"My heart is like wax; it is melted in the midst of my bowels." Like fire melteth wax so His heart melted in the fire of wrath against sin. The strength of the mighty One, who fainteth not and knows no weariness, failed. His tongue cleaves to His jaws. "Dogs" and "the assembly of the wicked" --Gentiles and Jews were there. "They pierced my hands and feet;" crucifixion, unknown among the Jews when David lived, is here predicted by the Holy Spirit. "I may tell all my bones" as well as the words "all my bones are out of joint" refer to His suffering on the cross. Then after they hung the Prince of Glory at that cross we read "they look and stare upon Me" (verse 17). "They parted my garments among them, and cast lots upon my vesture." What man did to Him, what He suffered from man and from Satan's power is here described. Yet it was God who bruised Him. Concerning man the sufferer spoke what "they" did unto Him; but He also addresses God "THOU hast brought me into the dust of death." And thus He suffered and died for us. Our sins were laid upon Him and He bore them in His own body on the tree. At what an infinite cost we have been redeemed! What a price has been paid! The Father did not spare His only begotten Son, but delivered Him up for us all. The Son of God, was made sin for us, smitten, stricken and forsaken of God. Jehovah bade His sword awake-- O Christ, it woke 'gainst thee! Thy blood the flaming blade must slake; Thy heart its sheath must be-- All for my sake, my peace to make; Now sleeps that sword for me. The Holy God did hide His face-- O Christ, 'twas hid from thee! Dumb darkness wrapt thy soul a space-- The darkness due to me. But now that face of radiant grace Shines forth in light on me. Wonderful Love! But how unable we are to realize adequately these blessed facts! How little after all we think of these marvellous things and how weak is our devotion to that blessed, loving Lord, who loved us thus! And what do we behold about us? An ever increasing darkness; a turning away from the blessed Gospel of the Son of God as it centers in the Cross; a greater rejection and neglection of the great salvation which God has so graciously provided in the great sacrifice. It is fearful to see the enemies of the cross increasing and rushing on to their coming doom. What is to be our attitude? It is for us to glory more and more in the cross of Christ. We must exalt and magnify the Person and Work of our blessed Lord as never before. The more He is rejected by the world, His blessed work on the cross disowned in such latter day delusions as the new theology, Christian Science and the numerous other systems, the more we must give Him the pre-eminence. But it means also for us if we are faithful to Him the fellowship of His sufferings. God has called us into the fellowship of His Son Jesus Christ our Lord. This includes the fellowship of His sufferings. Never, of course, suffering from God as He did. But as He is rejected and despised so are we called to share His rejection and take upon us His reproach. He suffered without the gate and the Word exhorts us "Let us go forth therefore unto Him without the camp, bearing His reproach." In these last days we must like Moses "esteem the reproach of Christ greater riches than the treasures of Egypt (the world)." And if we are faithful to Him, if we walk in _separation from the world_, including the great "religious world" with its Christ and the Cross rejecting schemes and tendencies, we shall know something of the reproach of Christ and the fellowship of His sufferings. Oh! that we might know more of that in these easy going days. Such a precious Word of God as contained in 1 Peter iv:13-14 ought to make us long for bearing His reproach and for sufferings with Him. "But rejoice inasmuch as ye are partakers of Christ's sufferings that when His glory shall be revealed, ye may be glad also with exceeding joy. If ye be reproached for the name of Christ, happy are ye; for the Spirit of glory and of God resteth upon you; on their part He is evil spoken of, but on your part He is glorified." Be true to Christ and to the cross of Christ. Live out the doctrine of the cross "crucified with Christ"--dead to the things here below, then you will have some suffering from the side of men and Satan as well. And what will be the awful judgment for the multitudes, the ever increasing multitudes who reject the Cross of Christ, who are either opposing it by their ethical gospel, to whom the preaching of the cross is foolishness, or who are indifferent? The Holy Spirit has told us that where the Gospel, the Cross of Christ is rejected or perverted the Anathema, the curse of God must follow (Gal. i:9; 1 Corinth. xvi:22). Well has one said "Distance from God was the climax of the Lamb's dying sorrow." It is a fearful solemn thought that the world while with heedless selfconfidence it still pursues its way, is no nearer now to God than Jesus was when, under the burden of the world's iniquity, He cried, "My God, my God, why hast Thou forsaken me?" How solemn this is! May we learn to say more fully with Paul, "But God forbid that I should glory, save in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ, by whom the world is crucified unto me, and I unto the world." The Glory of Christ. The first twenty-one verses of this Psalm describe the sufferings of Christ. This part closes with an appeal to Jehovah for deliverance. "But be thou not far from me, O Lord; O my strength, haste thee to help me. * * * Save me from the lion's mouth." Then comes the joyful statement that He has been heard. The answer He received to His cry is resurrection. We find therefore that the second part of this great Psalm, which reveals so fully the Cross of Christ, is taken up with the Glory of the forsaken One. God raised Him from the dead, and so we hear at once in this Psalm the notes of triumph coming from the lips of Him who is dead and now liveth. His triumph and His Glory are revealed. All for whom He died, the Church, Israel, the ends of the earth, the nations are mentioned. He is seen in the midst of the church as well as in the midst of the future great congregation. All the ends of the earth are yet to remember and turn unto the Lord. The nations will come to worship before Him; His will be the Kingdom, He will rule among the nations. But we must look at some of these precious predictions a little closer. We need to consider them as much as the Sufferings, the Cross of Christ. The day of His Resurrection is first mentioned. "I will declare Thy Name unto my brethren "In the midst of the congregation will I praise Thee." It is a joyous word which stands at the head of the glory section of this Psalm. Raised from the dead He met His own with an "All hail" --rejoice. In the Gospel of John we see Him meeting her who sought the living One among the dead and telling her "Go and tell my brethren." How literally this prediction has been fulfilled. And what He tells her of "my Father and your Father, my God and your God" declares that intimate relationship which is the result of His death on the cross. Brought through Him to God, we are Sons of God and Heirs of God. "He that sanctifieth and they that are sanctified are all of one, therefore He is not ashamed to call them brethren" (Heb. ii:11). Precious truth! He owns us as brethren. He is the Firstborn among many brethren. The congregation mentioned here is the church. In the midst of the church His praise is heard (Heb. ii:12). It is true the church is not revealed in the Old Testament but it is anticipated. And as we, saved by Grace, in possession of His life, approach God in His worthy Name His own voice is heard; He is the leader of our prayers and our praises. That new and intimate relationship brought about by His atoning death at the cross is mentioned first. He gave Himself for the church (Eph. v:25). In the next place we hear Israel praising Him. "All ye the seed of Jacob glorify Him; and reverence Him all ye the seed of Israel." They who rejected Him, His people who despised Him and had such a part in the suffering of Christ, now own Him. They acknowledge Him, whom they thought afflicted of God, as having been heard of God. That time will come when He returns in power and glory, when Israel will see the Man in Glory, the First begotten coming in the clouds of Heaven. Then they will realize the full truth of Isaiah liii. The blessed Lord will then have the travail of His soul and be satisfied. But there is more glory still for Him. A _great_ congregation is mentioned; there too His praises will be heard. All the ends of the earth will remember and turn unto the Lord. Nations will worship before Him. "For the Kingdom is Jehovah's And He ruleth among the nations" (verse 28). The great congregation are the nations of the millennial age. Then the ends of the earth will remember Him while He ruleth among the nations. What Glory awaits Him! Now we behold Him, who was made a little lower than the angels for the suffering of death, crowned with glory and honor. It is a spiritual vision; we see Him there by faith. But a little while longer and He will appear in the Glory of His Father bringing His co-heirs with Him, the Son bringing many sons to glory, the sons He is not ashamed to call brethren, for whom He was forsaken on the cross. What a procession of triumph and glory that will be when the Heavens open and He is coming forth, bringing His church with Him! What will be His Glory when Israel at last owns Him and nations submit under His rule, when His visible Glory will cover the earth as the waters cover the sea! All hail! Oh blessed, blessed Lord! And we do need to consider all these precious predictions, so numerous in the Scriptures, the prophecies of His Glory. The God of this age Satan is unfolding the glories of this present age which is almost at the end, with a skilful master hand. He knows how to blind the eyes not only of those who believe not, but of many who are Christians. He makes everything so attractive and many of God's people have fallen into his snares. We need to look through the Word of God upon the brightness of His Glory, the glorious things to come, so that our eyes may be blinded to the miserable playthings of the dust, which the fire of God's vengeance will ere long consume. We need these glorious visions of the great realities so that we can go forward with joyfulness to suffer, be rejected of men and bear the bright and blessed testimony, the Father expects from His beloved children. Take up the watchword of the last days! _True to Christ--all in Christ--all for Christ--Onward to Glory._ Soon He will call us into His glorious presence. "For I reckon that the sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory which shall be revealed in us" (Rom. viii:18). "For our light affliction which is but for a moment, worketh a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory" (2 Cor. v:17). Oh what will be the day when won at last The last long weary battle, we shall come To those eternal gates the King hath passed, Returning from our exile to our Home; When earth's last dust is washed from off our feet; The last sweat from our brows is wiped away; The hopes that made our pilgrim journey sweet All met around us, realized that day! Oh what will be the day, when we shall stand Irradiate with God's eternal light; First tread as sinless saints the sinless land, No shade nor stain upon our garments white; No fear, no shame upon our faces then, No mark of sin--oh joy beyond all thought! A son of God, a free-born citizen Of that bright city where the curse is not! The Exalted One. Hebrews i. SOME thirty-five years ago, when the so-called "Higher Criticism" had begun its destructive work, a believer living in England, predicted that within thirty years the storm would gather over one sacred head. How this has come true! Satan's work of undermining the authority of the Bible, a pernicious work still going on, is but the preliminary to an attack of the Person of Christ. To-day as never before the glorious Person of our Lord is being belittled in the camp of Christendom. This is done not only in the out and out denials of His Deity but also in more subtle ways. It is for us who "deny not His Name" (Revel. iii:8), whose desire is to exalt Him, ever to remind ourselves of the Blessed One and His Glory. At this time we desire to look briefly at the teachings of the first chapter in Hebrews. This chapter is divided into two parts. In the first part we find another great description of our adorable Lord, and in the second a description of His exaltation. The beginning of the chapter gives us that solid assurance that God has spoken and that the Old Testament is His Word. "God having spoken in many parts and in many ways formerly to the fathers in the prophets, at the end of these days has spoken to us in (the person of the) Son." The Old Testament Scriptures are the inspired Word of God; at last God spake in Son, as it is in the Greek. The Old Testament announced that God would speak in the person of the Son. For this reason it is impossible to deny the authority of the Old Testament without denying the authority of Lord Jesus Christ. The written and the living Word stand and fall together. This is followed by a description of Himself. Seven things are mentioned concerning our Lord. 1. Heir of all Things. 2. By whom He made the worlds. 3. The Brightness of God's Glory. 4. The Express image of His Person. 5. The Upholder of all Things. 6. He has purged our sins. 7. He sat down at the right hand of the Majesty on high. What wonderful seven things these are! Oh that we would meditate more on each, how it would strengthen our faith and deepen our fellowship with Him. It would give us victory when the hosts of the enemy press upon us. Our defeat is the result of losing sight of the object of our faith, Christ. We also can divide the description of our Lord in the first chapter of Hebrews into three parts. 1. He is the Son of God in eternity; One with the Father, essentially and absolutely God. This is found in these great statements "By whom He made the worlds; who being the brightness of His Glory and the express image of His person, and upholding all things by the Word of His power." This could never be said of a creature of God. Our Lord is the Creator Himself, the express image of the person of God, the one who upholds all things. What it all means! What a Lord we have! All this harmonizes with the description of His Person in Colossians. 2. He is the Son of God in incarnation. This is found in the following sentence "When He had Himself purged out sins" or as it is literally "Having made by Himself the purification of sins." For this great purpose He entered His own world. The mighty Creator, the eternal Son of God, the Holy One is our Redeemer. As Son of God He walked on the earth in the Spirit of holiness, the holy, spotless One, God manifested in the flesh. And this wonderful Being was made Sin for us, went as the willing sacrifice to the cross. Oh what a record! "Who did no sin, neither was guile found in his mouth; who when reviled, reviled not again: when suffering threatened not; . . . . . . . who Himself bore our sins in His body on the tree, . . . . by whose stripes ye have been healed." What a foundation for our faith, what assurance! He Himself has accomplished the work for us and has made peace in the blood of His cross. He only could do it. 3. The Son of God in resurrection. "He sat down on the right hand of the Majesty on high, being made so much better than the angels as He hath by inheritance obtained a more excellent name than they." And in verse 2 we read "Whom He (God) hath appointed heir to all things." All this is spoken of Him who had died on the cross and who raised from the dead as glorified Man is at the right hand of the majesty on high. What He is in that resurrection Glory we shall be with Him. His Love does not stop short of this. The Glory the Father gave to Him, He has given to us. He is the image of the invisible God, because He is God. His redeemed people shall be transformed into His image, that He might be the first born among many brethren. What a thought this is! We shall image Him forth in all eternity, as He images the invisible God. Into what depths we gaze! Then in the second part of this chapter we find a description of His exaltation and Glory. The Holy Spirit shows this marvelous theme from His Word. He quotes from seven Psalms, that book which is one of the most attacked in the present day. The Holy Spirit gives us a key in these quotations how we should look for Christ in the Psalms. What wickedness in face of such Scriptures to deny the messianic prophecies contained in the Psalms. The Psalms quoted are the following: "The ii; lxxxix (2 Sam. vii:14); xcvii; civ; xlv; cii and cx." They reveal His Glory and in what His future Glory will exist. And we shall share that exaltation with Him. We are destined to be His Co-heirs. We shall rule with Him and shall be priests with Him. He is higher than the angels in His resurrection Glory. He was made a little lower than the angels that He could take us with Himself into that place above the angels. All Glory and Praise to His Holy Name. We worship and adore Thee, Thou Son of God, our Saviour and Lord! What Glory awaits us! What dignity is ours! Oh, child of God, you need just this one thing, to know Him better, to have the Holy Spirit make Christ and the things of Christ, the future Glory more real to your souls. Let Him do it. And soon we shall be with Him. Lamb of God, Thy faithful promise Says, "Behold, I quickly come;" And our hearts, to Thine responsive, Cry, "come, Lord, and take us home." Oh, the rapture that awaits us When we meet Thee in the air, And with Thee ascend in triumph, All Thy deepest joys to share! A Glorious Vision. THE Epistle to the Hebrews, this profound and blessed portion of the Holy Scriptures, unfolds a most wonderful vision of the Person, the Glory and the great Redemption work of our adorable Lord. The portion of the Epistle which is the richest in this respect is the Second Chapter. Here is a vista for the eyes of faith which is sublime. Our Lord in His Person, in His humiliation and exaltation, in His suffering and glory, stands out in a way which makes the believing heart rejoice with joy unspeakable and full of Glory. What He has accomplished for us, His present place in Glory and intercessory work, His future and dominion over the earth, all are mentioned by the Holy Spirit in this brief chapter. His humiliation by incarnation is mentioned in these words "Thou madest Him a little lower than the angels." "Forasmuch, then as the children are partakers of flesh and blood, He also Himself likewise took part of the same." And He is the One "by whom are all things" (verse 10). His suffering and death and its blessed results are given in this chapter. "By the grace of God He should taste death for every man." "That through death He might destroy him that had the power of death, that is the devil." He made "reconciliation for sins of the people." We read of the gracious relations into which all believing sinners are brought in virtue of His work on the cross. "For both He that sanctifieth and they who are sanctified are all of one; for which cause He is not ashamed to call them brethren." It is that blessed, deep, eternal relationship of being One with Him and One with God. Then we find here His presence as Man in Glory. "But we see Jesus, who was made a little lower than the angels for the suffering of death crowned with glory and honor." In that attitude He is now "the merciful and faithful high Priest." "For in that He Himself hath suffered, being tempted, He is able to succor them that are tempted." The ultimate result of His work is also stated. He is "bringing many sons unto glory." And that glory will be His own glory. Not only now but in that future day of glory He will declare "Behold I and the children, which God hath given me." Furthermore we have the fact of His earthly dominion, that He is to have possession of the earth. "The world to come," that is the habitable earth, not heaven, is to be put in subjection under Him. "Thou hast put all things in subjection under His feet." All these blessed truths are stated in this chapter of Hebrews. In regard to a subdued earth we read: "But now we see not yet all things put under Him." That was true when the Holy Spirit penned these words. This is still true and it will be true until the Father bringeth in the First begotten into the world, when not alone all the angels of God will worship Him (Heb. i:6), but when God will make His enemies the footstool of His blessed feet (Psalm cx:1). However this coming triumph for Him who was made a little lower than the angels is not the glorious vision of this chapter. It is time by faith we may behold the glorious consummation as revealed in the prophetic Word, but here another vision for our present rejoicing and present help is put before us. While we see not yet all things put under His feet "we see Jesus, who was made a little lower than the angels for the suffering of death crowned with glory and honor." This is the great vision for the present. This is what the Holy Spirit wants us to behold more than anything else. Of Stephen it is written: "He being full of the Holy Spirit, looked up steadfastly into heaven, and saw the glory of God, and Jesus standing at the right hand of God" (Acts vii:55). And whenever the Holy Spirit fills us He will direct the vision of the eyes of our heart to Him who was made a little lower than the angels and who is now in heaven crowned with glory and honor. And only the _power_ of the Holy Spirit filling us can make this great fact and vision a reality. But what does this glorious vision mean to _us?_ What does it teach us? Oh, much more than the weak pen of the writer can tell out. The blessed One who is there crowned with glory and honor is the One who was made a little lower than the angels for the suffering of death; He bore our sins on the cross and died for us. What a blessed, blessed proof then it is, as we behold Him there, that our sins are completely and forever gone! But more than that. In seeing Him there we behold ourselves. The deliverer of our souls at the right hand of God, the second man, crowned with glory and honor, is the pattern and forerunner of all who belong to Him and whom He is not ashamed to call brethren. Grace has raised us up together, and has made us sit down together in the heavenlies in Christ Jesus (Eph. ii:5, 6). Our eternal destiny, beloved in the Lord, is to be like Him, with Him and to share His marvelous inheritance as His co-heirs. That glorious vision is the evidence of our coming glory, when we shall be transformed into His image that He might be the firstborn among many brethren. As we gaze in the Spirit on Him who is crowned with glory and honor we can see ourselves. And as the age darkens, as the Laodicean state becomes more prevalent, temptations and snares increase, the enemy's powers and activities more marked, we need to open our eyes and hearts wider, to take in the vision of our blessed head in Glory. Only in this way can we be kept in these evil days. The only way of spiritual progress, spiritual enjoyment, spiritual worship is to "behold as in a glass the glory of the Lord," and beholding that glorious vision we "are changed into the same image from glory to glory, even as by the Spirit of the Lord" (2 Cor. vii:18). This glorious vision will keep us in the place of separation. It will make us heavenly-minded and produce in our lives the practical results of the cross of Christ "crucified unto the world and the world crucified unto me." Why do real Christians, who know the truth and even know and speak of His Second Coming go along with the world and delight in its ways? It is because the heart is departed from Christ and has lost sight of the blessed and glorious vision. Years ago a saint of God, who is now present with the Lord, made the following statement: "It sometimes happens that Christians have got so far away from Christ in heart, that they become engrossed in the affairs of this life, and some can even visit and enjoy the poor empty, tinselled shows of this world's vanity. What could be more lamentable? They forget that _death's stamp_ is deeply graven on everything this side of resurrection. But such actions clearly prove that the heart must have been away from Christ for some time." Reader! if this means you return unto thy rest. Arise now and seek His face and behold your Saviour, who was made a little lower than the angels crowned with glory and honor. May all our hearts, dear children of God, cry out with him, who knew Him so well, the prisoner of the Lord "That I may know _Him_, and the power of His resurrection and the fellowship of His sufferings, being made conformable unto His death" (Phil. iii:10). Soon we shall know Him and all His glory. I see a Man at God's right hand, Upon the throne of God, And there in seven-fold light I see The seven-fold sprinkled blood; I look upon that glorious Man, On that blood-sprinkled throne; I know that He sits there for me, The glory is my own. The heart of God flows forth in love, A deep eternal stream; Through that beloved Son it flows To me as unto Him. And, looking on His face, I know-- Weak, worthless, though I be-- How deep, how measureless, how sweet, That love of God to me. My Brethren. OUR Lord Jesus Christ calls those for whom He died and who have believed on Him "_My Brethren_." What a word it is! The Brethren of the Man in Glory! Brethren of Him who is at the right hand of God, the upholder and heir of all things! Pause for a moment, dear reader. Let your heart lay hold anew of this wonderful message of God's Grace; Brethren of the Lord Jesus Christ! What depths of love and grace these words contain! What heights of glory they promise to us, who were bought by His own precious blood! His Brethren now; His Brethren forever. One with Him, one with His Father and His God. Sharers of His life, sharers of His Spirit, sharers of His glory and His inheritance. Blessed, glorious truth, He calls us His Brethren. It is in the twenty-second Psalm where we find this truth revealed prophetically for the first time. That Psalm begins, as we have seen before, with the utterance of the deepest distress. It closes with the shout of victory and of triumph. He who was forsaken of God on the cross, the blessed sin bearer, has received glory. In the midst of the congregation, His redeemed people, He praises God, who has delivered Him and who gave Him Glory. In God's own time, in the coming day of His visible manifestation, all the ends of the world shall remember and turn unto the Lord, and all the kindreds of the nations shall worship before Him. Then the Kingdom will be the Lord's. He who suffered on the cross was heard "from the horns of the unicorn" (Ps. xxii:21). Resurrection was the answer from God; the power of God raised Him from the dead. At once, after the great work had been accomplished, there follows the triumphant declaration of Him whose voice had cried so bitterly in death, "I will declare Thy Name unto my brethren; in the midst of the congregation will I praise Thee." And blessed was the fulfilment on that day of joy, when the tomb was empty and He had come forth, the risen Christ. To Mary Magdalene He said on that glorious resurrection morning, "But go and tell _my brethren_, and say unto them, I ascend unto my Father and your Father, and to my God and your God" (John xx:17). What joy must then have filled His loving heart. From His gracious lips there bursts forth a message such as He never gave to His own before His resurrection. The great work on the cross had been accomplished, sin had been put away by the sacrifice of Himself. The Only Begotten of the Father, God's holy Son, one with God, became Man; then passing through death, in which He fully glorified God, God raised Him from the dead. And now He gives the blessed results of His own work for those who believe on Him. He has brought us into the same relationship with His Father and His God, which He Himself holds, as the Man Christ Jesus, raised from the dead. His Father, the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, is our Father; His God is our God. And again we pause as we write this. Let our hearts repeat it: "My Father, your Father; my God, your God." He has brought us into fellowship with His Father; He has brought us to God and the place He has with the Father and with God, is the place God's fathomless Grace has given to us. How little our hearts take it in! How little reality we possess of all this! And yet He wants us to enjoy it as He enjoys the fulness of joy in His Father's and His God's own presence. May the Holy Spirit work in us unhindered, that through His power we may lay hold in faith of this mighty truth and have it as a _practical power_ in our daily lives. My Father, your Father; my God, your God and Christ, who loved me and gave Himself for me, Christ, who loveth us, is with His Father and His God. In such relationship, brought to the Father and to God through the Lord Jesus Christ and kept there by His own Grace and Power, how happy we should be. And because we possess now in virtue of Christ's work this blessed relationship, He owns us joyfully as His brethren. Hebrews ii:11-12 puts this more fully before our hearts: "For both He that sanctifieth and they that are sanctified are all of one; for which cause He is not ashamed to call them brethren. Saying, I will declare Thy name unto my brethren, in the midst of the church will I sing praise unto Thee." The Lord Jesus Christ is He that sanctifieth and they that are sanctified by His great work and are in Him, are believing sinners, reconciled to God by His blood. Both He that sanctifieth and we are all of One and this One is God, the Father. Therefore He is not ashamed to call them brethren. It is true we possess this relationship with the Man in Glory, the Lord Jesus Christ, because we are born of God. We have eternal life, His own life, and that makes us One with Him. But this is not the truth in view here. It is the truth that He has identified Himself with us and through His death and resurrection we are identified with Him. And what it means "in the midst of the church will I sing praises unto Thee" we shall not follow at this time. But let us keep it before our hearts a little while longer. The Lord of Glory calls us "My Brethren." He who is there in the Father's house, in the Father's presence and on the Father's throne is not ashamed to call us brethren. He knows all about us. He knows all the depths of sin in which we are by nature; that by nature we were enemies by wicked works and children of wrath, but He took it all upon Himself and has taken it out of the way and now He looks upon us and all who have accepted Him by personal faith as being one with Him and one with His Father; therefore He is not ashamed to call us brethren. What a comfort it should be to our hearts! What joy it should create in our souls! He Himself received from God, His heart's desire and the request of His lips (Ps. xxi:2). And all His desire and request was in our behalf, that He might bring us, His many sons, to glory. And now He rejoices in us, for we are His inheritance. He wants us to rejoice in Him and with Him in an unspeakable joy and full of glory. Our souls entering into all this and rejoicing with Him in His salvation, enjoying the comfort of it; this honors Him and honors God. It should end the discouragement and unbelief from which we so often suffer. Though we are weak and erring, imperfect in all our ways, yet He is not ashamed to call us brethren. Such a fellowship and relation into which we are brought once and, for all by the Son of God, should, if accepted in faith, dispel any doubt about ourselves and free us from all gloom and discouragement. Alas! how dull we are not to enter fully into the joy and comfort Grace has bestowed upon us! And then think of the dignity and honor which is ours. Sons of God with Him; Heirs of God with Him; one with Him, perfectly identified with the blessed One in God's presence. Therefore He is not ashamed to call us brethren. To walk worthy of the Lord is our calling; and worthy of the Lord we shall walk if we have the great fact of our fellowship with the Son of God as a reality before our souls. It is a sad state to speak theoretically of our position in Christ, to know all this with our intellects and not to manifest it in our lives and show forth the excellencies of Him, who has called us from darkness into his marvellous light. He is not ashamed to call us brethren. It should strengthen the love for the brethren. Love one another. The weakest, the most imperfect believer, that one who appears to us so unlovable and so ignorant, is nevertheless owned by him. Just let us remember in looking upon all believers, that he is not ashamed to call them brethren, that no matter where they belong, what their knowledge in the Scriptures might be, they belong to Christ, and are equally beloved of God. How we need it in a day when Satan goes about dividing the people of God. Love for the brethren, a deep, real heart love, will possess us as our hearts feed upon the fact of our oneness with him and with His Father and His God. He is not ashamed to call them brethren. It will be an incentive to witness for Him. Dishonored as He is, it falls upon us to honor Him by our personal witness. While in the Father's presence He sings and is the leader of the praises of His people, we must sing of Him here and utter His praise on earth. He is not ashamed of us; _how could we ever be ashamed of Him?_ What an honor to speak His worth, to tell out, though in feeble way, His glory and exalt His name. And yet we must beware of an unscriptural familiarity with Him, which the Holy Spirit does not sanction in the Scriptures. We must not address Him, as it is so often done, as "my brother," or other sentimental terms, which our pen is reluctant to repeat. In all this we must not forget His dignity and glory. While He thus identified Himself with us and is not ashamed to call us brethren, He is nevertheless the holy Son of God, the Lord of all. As such we must adore and worship Him. Some blessed day we shall be just like Him. We are predestinated to be conformed to the image of His Son, that He might be the first born among many brethren (Rom. viii:29). That will be in the glorious day when we shall meet Him face to face. "We know that when He shall appear, we shall be like Him; for we shall see Him as He is" (John iii:2). What it all will mean? What day of joy and triumph for Him, when He stands as the leader of all whom the Father has given unto Him, when all according to His prayer will be the sharers of His Glory. Then He will be glorified in His saints for they will bear His image and reflect His glory. What a destiny! Like Him and with Him. And this future of perfect conformity to the Lord Jesus Christ and possession of the wonderful inheritance, which, in its riches we cannot grasp now with out finite minds, is rapidly approaching. How soon it may burst upon us! Oh, friends, beloved in the Lord! Do we all enjoy this now in faith? Is it so that the Lord Jesus Christ becomes daily more real and precious to us? Do we live in the power of all this? The Patience of Christ. "BUT the Lord direct your hearts into the Love of God and into the _Patience of Christ_" (2 Thess. iii:5). With these words Paul exhorted the Thessalonian believers. They had many trials and difficulties. They suffered persecutions and were troubled. False alarms had affected their patience of hope in the Lord Jesus Christ. The inspired exhortation puts before their hearts the Patience of Christ. Comfort and joy, encouragement and peace, would surely come to their hearts and strengthen them, if they remembered and entered into the Patience of Christ. And who can describe or speak fully and worthily of the Patience of our blessed Lord! It includes so much. All His moral Glory and Divine perfections are concealed and revealed in this Word. The word patience has a wide meaning. It means more than we generally express by it. Submission, endurance in meekness, waiting in faith, quietness, contentment, composure, forebearance, suffering in calmness, calmness in suffering; all and more is contained in the one word, Patience. And such patience in all its fulness and perfection the Son of God exhibited in His earthly life. Whenever we look in the Gospels, we behold this calm, quiet, restful patience. His whole life here on earth is but a continued record of patience. In patience His childhood was spent, and when in His twelfth year the Glory of His Deity flashed forth we read "He went down with them, and came to Nazareth, and was subject unto them." In patience, He whose mighty power had called the universe in existence, toiled on, content in Nazareth, submissive to the Father, till after many years the day would come, when the work He had come to do should be begun and finished. To describe that Patience during His public ministry from Nazareth, where He had been brought up, to Golgotha, would necessitate a close scrutiny of every step of the way, every act and every utterance which came from His holy lips. What discoveries of His Grace and moral Glory we make, if under the guidance of His Spirit we meditate on His life here below. Humility and submission under God, patient waiting on Him, utter absence of all haste, perfect calmness of soul and every other characteristic of perfect patience, we can trace constantly in that wonderful life. What patience is revealed in the forty days in the wilderness, when He hungered and was with the wild beasts (Mark i:13). When Satan tempted Him and asked for stones to be made bread, He exhibited still His patience. In His service, that marvellous service rendered by the perfect servant, no ambitiousness or ostentatiousness can ever be discovered. He pleased not Himself but Him who sent Him. He was constantly going about doing the Father's will. His kindness and love were rewarded by rejection and insults, yet no complaint or murmur ever came from His lips. He was always trusting in God, perfectly calm, perfectly satisfied. And how His patience shines out in dealing with men. What patience He had with His disciples and how He bore with them in love. They were slow learners. What patience and tenderness in his conversation with her, whom He had sought, the woman at Samaria's well. And greatest above all His patience in suffering. He endured the cross. When He was reviled, He reviled not again; when He suffered, He threatened not, but committed Himself to Him that judgeth righteously. (1 Pet. ii:23). He was oppressed, and He was afflicted, yet He opened not His mouth; He was brought as a lamb to the slaughter, and as a sheep before his shearers is dumb, so He opened not His mouth. All the buffetings, shame, dishonors, griefs, pains and sorrows He patiently endured. Oh! the patience of Christ, who for the joy set before Him endured the cross, despising the shame! And into this patience of Christ our hearts are to be directed. It is to be the object of our contemplation and to be followed by us, who belong to Him. The patience of Christ must be manifested in our lives. For even hereunto were ye called, because Christ also suffered for us, leaving us an example, that ye should follow His steps. His humility, submissiveness, contentment, calmness, patience in endurance, in doing and suffering the will of God, must be reproduced in our lives. But how little we know of it in reality. Impatience is the leading characteristic of the closing days of this present evil age. It is alas! but too prominently seen among God's people who are influenced by the present day currents. How little true waiting on the Lord and for the Lord is practiced! How much reaching out after the things which are but for a moment and which will soon perish! In consequence there is but little enjoyment of that which is the glorious and eternal portion of the Saints of God. How great the haste and hurry of present day life! How little quietness and contentment! In suffering and loss, murmurings, fault-finding and words of forced resignation are more frequently heard than joyful songs of praise. Unrest instead of rest, discontent instead of contentment, anxiety instead of simple trust, self exaltation instead of self abnegation, ambitiousness instead of lowliness of mind are found on all sides among those who name the name of Christ and who carry His Life in their hearts. And why? Your heart, dear reader, is so often out of touch with Christ. You lose sight of Him. His Spirit is grieved and in consequence there is failure and the impatience of the flesh. Return, oh my soul, unto thy rest! Direct, O Lord, our hearts into the Patience of Christ. The Patience of Christ. He is still the patient Christ. Rejected by the world He has taken His place upon the Father's throne. There He waits until His enemies are made His footstool. Long ago, in our human reckoning, He entered there. Long ago the Father said to Him, "Ask of Me and I will give Thee the heathen for thine inheritance, and the uttermost part of the earth for Thy possession" (Ps. ii:8). Up to now He has not yet asked the Father. When He asks it will mean judgment for this world. In infinite patience He has waited and waited in the presence of God. And all this time He has carried on His work as the Priest and Advocate of His people who live on earth. With what tenderness and patience He has dealt with all who lived in the past centuries. His mighty power kept them and now they are at home with Him. The same patience He manifests towards us. How often we have failed Him and walked in the flesh instead of walking in the Spirit. We came to Him and confessed and then we found Him so loving towards us. But ere long we failed again and in His loving patience His arms were again around us. And thus a hundred times. He changeth not. He is the same loving, patient Lord towards His own in Glory as He was on earth. "He shall not be discouraged," the prophet declared. Even so His Patience knows no discouragement. In all the dishonor done to His holy, worthy Name, He endures patiently. He is silent to all what is done by His enemies. The Patience of Christ. May the Lord grant us His Patience. John said to himself, "I am your brother and companion in tribulation and in the kingdom and _patience_ of Jesus Christ" (Rev. i:9). To that kingdom and Patience of Jesus Christ of which John speaks of belonging we belong. The martyrs belonged to it. Afflictions, persecutions and sufferings were their part. They are ours. In humility, in endurance, unflinching courage, in the patience of Christ, let us suffer with Him, share His reproach until His Glory is revealed. He Shall Not Keep Silent. THE heavens have long been silent. It is one of the leading characteristics of this present age, the closed, the silent heavens. But they will not be silent forever. "Our God shall come and shall not keep silence" (Ps. i:3). In His divine Patience the Lord has been at the right hand of God for nearly two thousand years. He will not occupy that place forever. It is not His permanent station to be upon the Father's throne. He has the promise of His own throne, which He as the King-Priest must occupy. Nearly two thousand years have gone since He passed through the heavens and during that time He has been rejected by the world. Every possible dishonor, insult and shame has been heaped upon His holy head through the instrumentality of the enemy, the devil. Never before has the rejection of the Man in Glory been so pronounced, so radical, so blasphemous as now. Those who love the Lord Jesus Christ are constantly seized by an unspeakable grief on account of these awful denials of the Christ of God and an horror as well. And still He patiently waits. But He will not always wait. His Patience will some day be exhausted. He will pray His unprayed prayer in Glory and ask of the Father the nations and the uttermost parts of the earth. The Father will then send the Firstborn back to this earth. When He comes in visible Glory to this earth it will mean the day of vengeance. The vengeance of God will fall upon His enemies. All the Christ rejecters, the wicked men and women who received not the love of the truth, but had pleasure in unrighteousness, the enemies of the cross of Christ, though they lived amiable lives (one of Satan's pet phrases), will meet Him not as the patient lamb, but the Judge, the lion of the tribe of Judah. What will it be when His Patience is ended? What will it be when the kingdom and the Patience of Jesus Christ give way to the kingdom and Glory of Jesus Christ? Rapidly the day is nearing when the Lord Jesus Christ will be completely rejected. As long as the true church is still here this complete rejection is an impossibility. But the church will some day leave this earth. Then conditions are ripe for the complete rejection of the Christ and the reception of Antichrist who will then appear. And when the beast is worshipped (Rev. xiii) and the world defies God and His anointed as never before, when the nations of apostate Christendom stand in battle array (Rev. xix:19), then He will come as the King whose patience is ended and claim His Kingdom. What will it mean when His Patience is ended? Who can describe it? What judgments will fall then upon a wicked world and be meted out upon the enemies of Christ? The day of vengeance is rapidly approaching. It is the day of vengeance for the world. It is the day of the Glory of Christ. It is the day of the Glory of the Saints. It is the day of your Glory as a believer. Let us suffer with Him, that we may also be glorified together. Let us be patient as long as He is patient. "Be ye also patient; establish your hearts for the coming of the Lord draweth nigh. Grudge not one against another, brethren, lest ye be condemned; behold the Judge standeth before the door" (James v:8, 9). In His Patience pray for the unsaved. Preach the Gospel, give out the Gospel, send the Gospel, give for the Gospel, live the Gospel. A little while longer and His patience will end. Trusting in the Lord thy God, Onward go. Holding fast His faithful word, Onward go. Not denying His worthy name, Though it brings reproach and shame, Spreading still His wondrous fame, Onward go. Has He said the end is near? Onward go. Serving Him with holy fear, Onward go. Christ thy portion, Christ thy stay-- Heavenly bread upon the way, Leading on to glorious day-- Onward go. The Love of Christ. THE Patience of Christ was recently the object of our meditation in these pages. Blessed and inexhaustible it is. And now a still greater theme is before our hearts. The Love of Christ. The heart almost shrinks from attempting to write on the matchless, unfathomable love of our blessed and adorable Lord. All the Saints of God who have spoken and written on the Love of Christ have never told out its fulness and vastness, its heights and its depths. "The Love of Christ which passeth knowledge" (Ephesians iii:19). And yet we _do_ know the Love of Christ. While we cannot fully grasp that mighty, eternal Love our hearts can enjoy it and we can ever know more of it. And He Himself whose Love is set upon us wants us to drink constantly of the ocean of His never-changing Love and receive new tokens, new glimpses of it. Surely His own blessed Spirit, though one feels so insufficient for such an object, will guide us in our meditation. He is with us and in us to glorify Him and take of the things of Christ to show them unto us. The Love of Christ, the Holy Spirit ever longs to make known and to impart to our poor and feeble hearts. The Love of our Lord is an eternal Love. It is not a thing of time. It antedates the foundation of the world. "His gracious eye surveyed us Ere stars were seen above." He as the Son of God in the bosom of God was the object of Love. "Thou lovedst me before the foundation of the world" (John xvii: 24). And then He knew us and His Love was even then set upon us, before we ever were in existence. He knew our sinfulness, our enmity, our vileness, and in Love which passeth knowledge He looked forward to the time, when He would manifest this Love to us His fallen creatures. "Such knowledge is too wonderful for me; it is high I cannot attain unto it" (Psalm cxxxix:6). It was Love which brought Him down from the Glory, which He had with God. What Love to come into this dark, sin-cursed world, a world full of enemies. What Love to leave that bright and glorious home and appear as man, made of a woman entering this world He had called into existence. And there was no room for Him in the inn. It passeth knowledge. And then that life, which He lived on earth, was lived in that mighty Love. "A love that led Thee here below To tread a lonely path in grace, To pass through sorrow, grief and woe, The portion of a ruin'd race." What Love we see in Him, in every step of that lonely path! What compassion, what tenderness in every action in every word we discover, ever new and fresh, in that blessed life of God's unspeakable gift. Wherever we look we behold that Love. Loving compassion rested upon the multitudes; with Love He compassed the poor, the sinful, the oppressed, the heartsick and the outcast. Love carried the weak and failing men, who had believed on him, His disciples. A blessed word it is, which stands in the beginning of the thirteenth chapter in the Gospel of John. "Having loved His own which were in the world, He loved them unto the end." His Love for His own was expressed by serving them. He pleased not Himself but had come to minister. He then girded Himself and began to wash the disciples' feet. What humiliation! Yet it was the fruit of Love. All He did was born of Love. His was on earth a constant, a never-tiring, an enduring Love. All the selfishness of His disciples could not quench that Love. Nothing could quench His Love for His own. Nothing will ever quench it. Peter denied Him. "And the Lord turned and looked upon Peter" (Luke xxii:61). Was it a look of reproach? Was it a frown of displeasure which Peter saw in that beloved face? Far from it. Love in its divine perfection shone out of the eyes of the Son of God. And after His resurrection that Love was still the same. There was no reproach connected with the restoration of Peter to service. In the greatest tenderness and Love He committed to His disciple, who had so shamefully denied Him, the lambs and sheep so dear to His own loving heart. Again we say, that Love passeth knowledge. How could man's imagination and invention ever have produced such a loving Person as our Lord, revealing the perfection of divine Love! But there is greater Love than the Love which we behold in His blessed Life on earth. The greater Love is manifested when He laid down His life. He came into the world to die, to be the propitiation for our sins. He came to take our place on the cross. He came to drink the cup of wrath in our stead and suffer the awful penalty of our sins. "For when we were yet without strength, in due time Christ died for the ungodly. For scarcely for a righteous man will one die; yet peradventure for a good man some would even dare to die. _But God commendeth his love toward us, in that, while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us_." God in Love gave thus His Son, and He gave Himself in Love. From shame to shame, from suffering to suffering, from pain to pain and agony to agony that Love went on to plunge into the deepest sorrow, to reach at last the place where His loving lips had to cry "My God, My God, why hast Thou forsaken me?" "To death of shame Thy love did reach, God's holy judgment then to bear; Ah, Lord, what human tongue can teach _Or tell the love that brought Thee there_." Ah! what human tongue can teach or tell the Love that brought Thee there! It passeth knowledge. But with loving, praising hearts, in worship and adoration we can look up to that cross on which the Prince of Glory died and say with Paul, "He loved me, He gave Himself for me." And again we join with the innumerable hosts of His own redeemed in the Glory song. "Unto Him that loveth us and washed us from our sins in His own blood and hath made us Kings and priests unto God and His Father, to Him be Glory and dominion forever. Amen." And beloved reader, that Love which knew you and us all before we ever existed, that Love which came from Glory for you, that Love which went into the jaws of death, endured the cross and despised the shame, that Love which gave so willingly, gave as we can never give, that Love is still the same. It changes not. His Love knows no fluctuations. That perfect Love cannot grow cold or indifferent. We all had our first love; when first we saw Him with the eyes of faith, how our hearts were enraptured. How soon that Love began to grow cold and decreased instead of increased. Then our walk and service became affected for thus it must ever be when the heart is not responding to His Love and not in living, loving touch with Himself. Oh! the weeks and months and years of our Christian experience spent without the full enjoyment of His Love and Presence. But has this changed His Love? Has our unfaithfulness, our waywardness, our failure and backsliding affected His Love? No. He is the same loving Lord, the same loving Christ who has borne us and yearned over us, who has prayed for us and kept us. Whenever we turn to Him with broken hearts, confessing our sins, when in shame we hide our faces and tell Him all our failures, we find Him still the same loving Lord as He was when His loving eyes rested upon Peter. Oh! how He must love us! How He must love us, with that Love which passeth knowledge. What treasures that Love contains! Exhaustless it is ever flowing full and free towards His own. How it must grieve Him to see us so indifferent, neither hot nor cold. How it must grieve Him that we enjoy this Love so little that we permit that Love so little to serve us and give Him so little opportunity to manifest His mighty Love towards us. Alas! We even mistrust that Love. When suffering and loss overtake us, when instead of prosperity adversity is our lot, we doubt that Love. Fears and anxieties are nothing less than an impeachment of the Love, which passeth knowledge. His Love will never fail. He will see us safe home. Let the forces of the enemy roar, let trials and troubles come, His Love will keep us. His Love is our eternal portion. "For I am persuaded, that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature, shall be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord." And soon He will have us with Himself. The church He loved, for which He gave Himself, the church He sanctified by the washing of water, this church He will present to Himself a glorious church (Eph. v:24-27). Even while on earth He made known His loving purpose, for He prayed, "The Glory, which Thou hast given me I have given to them." It is His Love which will make us sharers of His own Glory and Inheritance. What that Love will do then! How we shall drink deeper of that Love, than we ever could drink here! Oh the depths of the Love to be fathomed in all eternity! Oh the length and breadth and height to be measured! It can never, no never be exhausted. O, child of God, is not thy poor wandering heart beginning to be warmed? Is the warmth of His Love, the Love of Christ refreshing your soul? Thank God for it. It is but a demonstration of His Love. And do we not want more of it? Do we not need it? All our indifference, our cold heartedness, our prayerlessness, our self indulgences, our inactivity and all else which mars our Christian lives, is because we do not have the Love of Christ before our hearts. If we were constantly enjoying His Love and this mighty Love would constrain us, what self-sacrificing lives we would live! How we would love one another and in love serve one another. What peace there would be among those of like precious faith. With a better heart knowledge of the Love of Christ, what joy would be ours in all trials and suffering and with what boldness we would approach the throne of Grace and make constant use of our God-given privilege, prayer. The Love of Christ would lead us on and on in love for souls, in service untiring, and yet the same Love too will make us long and pray for His coming. Oh God our Father, grant unto us all and to all Thy people throughout this world a greater, a deeper, a more real knowledge of the Love of thine ever blessed Son, the Love of Christ, and fill us through it with all the fulness of God. Amen. The Joy of the Lord. IT is written "the joy of the Lord is your strength." Every child of God knows in some measure what it is to rejoice in the Lord. The Lord Jesus Christ must ever be the sole object of the believer's joy, and as eyes and heart look upon Him, we, too, like "the strangers scattered abroad" to whom Peter wrote shall "rejoice with joy unspeakable and full of glory" (1 Pet. i:8). But it is upon our heart to meditate with our beloved readers on the joy of our adorable Lord, as his own personal joy. The Blessed One when His feet walked on the earth spoke not only of "My Peace," but He also spoke of "My Joy." While He imparts peace and joy and is the peace and joy of our hearts, He also possesses His own Peace and His own Joy. "The Joy of the Lord." There was a time "when the morning stars sang together, and all the sons of God shouted for joy" (Job xxxviii:7). It was in the beginning when the heavens and the earth were created by Him, who is before all things and by whom all things consist, the Son of God. With what joy He must have beheld what was called into existence by Him and for Him (Col. i:16). But even before the foundation of the world He had joy. With God, in the bosom of the Father Love, Glory and Joy were His eternal portion. All was known to Him from the beginning. The fall of Satan, the fall of man through Satan, the entrance of sin with all its results, the cost price of redemption, the suffering in the flesh on the cross for the redemption of the creature, the multitudes, whom no man can number, redeemed through His work, believing in Him, brought to God, united with Him, Sons and Heirs with Him, the ultimate victory over all enemies, so that God would be "all in all"--all was known to Him. What joy must have filled Him when at His incarnation He announced, "Lo I come to do Thy will O God" (Heb. x:5, 6). And then He came and took upon Himself the form of a servant, the first word the heavenly messenger spoke, sent to the virgin to announce the incarnation, was a word of joy. Never before had Gabriel been sent with such a message. "Hail" our English version has it; but the greeting means "Joy" or "Oh the joy!" And the angel later announced "good tidings of great joy." And that blessed life which was lived upon earth to the Glory of God, was a life which knew joy. All along the way from Bethlehem to Golgotha He had joy before His heart. It is true He wept, He had sufferings, He was tempted, He was ill-treated, cast out, maligned, accused of evil and rejected, but joy filled His heart. His God and Father was His joy, yea, His exceeding joy. To do His will, who had sent Him was His constant joy. His joy was to walk in confidence, in dependence on Him. His Father's love and delight, which rested upon Him were His joy. "Whom have I in heaven but Thee? and there is none upon earth that I desire beside Thee" (Ps. lxxiii:25). This beautiful word must have been His constant declaration; and that is joy. "I have set the Lord always before me" (Ps. xvi:8) is another utterance of God's Spirit concerning the holy life of God's well beloved Son. And that meant joy. The seventy He had sent forth had returned again with joy, because the demons were subject unto them. That is sinful man in carnal rejoicing! some power manifested, some great success fills our proud hearts with joy. But His words told them of a different joy. They were not to rejoice that the spirits submitted to them, but that their names were written in heaven. "In that hour Jesus _rejoiced_ in spirit, and said, I thank Thee, O Father, Lord of heaven and earth, that Thou hast hidden these things from the wise and the prudent, and hast revealed them to babes; even so Father; for so it seemed good in Thy sight. All things are delivered to Me of My Father; and no man knoweth who the Son is, but the Father; and who the Father is, but the Son, and to whom the Son will reveal Him" (Luke x:21, 22). Thus _He_ rejoiced. In the parable of the treasure in the field He speaks of His joy. The man who has found the treasure, for joy thereof goeth and selleth all he hath, and buyeth that field ( Matt. xiii:44). The man in the parable is the Lord Himself and the field is the world. With joy He gave up all and came down here to buy us back. And all His suffering from man and from Satan, the persecutions He suffered from His own people to whom He came were borne by Him with joy. He told out His own blessed character in the beatitudes and in speaking of those who are reviled and persecuted, He said, "Rejoice, and be exceeding glad." Thus He must have borne it all with joy. And then the cross. The cross in which He who knew no sin was made sin for us. He was troubled in His holy soul when He looked towards the cross (John xii:27). In the garden He saw the cross. "And being in an agony He prayed more earnestly; and His sweat was as it were great drops of blood falling down to the ground" (Luke xii:44). And yet it is written "who for the joy that was set before Him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is set down at the right hand of the throne of God" (Heb. xii:2). All the suffering put upon Him by man, acting under satanic impulses and the shame connected with the cross, He despised, the cross itself He could not despise, but He endured that. The joy was that He saw and knew the full and glorious result of all His work He had come to do. He saw then the travail of His soul and was satisfied. But in that cross there was that suffering, which is unfathomable. God's own hand rested upon Him. All His sorrowful complaints as predicted by His own Spirit were then fulfilled. "_Thou_ hast laid me in the dust of death." "All _Thy_ waves and billows go over me." "_Thine_ hand has pressed me sore." "_Thy_ wrath lieth hard upon me." "_Thy_ fierce wrath goeth over me." "_Thou_ hast laid me in the lowest pit." Thus He suffered from God--smitten and afflicted of God. It pleased the Lord to bruise Him. Then from that cross there came that loud and triumphant cry when He gave His life "It is finished!" Oh! what joy must have filled then His soul, when He knew the work is done, all is accomplished. And with equal joy God answered the cry of His well beloved Son, when He rent the veil from top to bottom. The risen Lord in meeting His disciples greeted them, with the greeting of joy, which Gabriel had used. "All Hail"--literally, _Oh the joy!_ (Matt. xxviii:9.) What joy must then have filled His loving heart as He met His own again. Oh the joy! thus they had mocked Him when they crowned Him with a crown of thorns and bowed the knee and in derision shouted "All hail"--"Rejoice"--"King of the Jews." But in the resurrection He shouts "Oh the Joy!" The victory is won. Satan, Sin, Death and the Grave are vanquished. And what joy is His now! What joy will be His ere long! With a shout He went up (Ps. xlvii:5). What a joy when He passed through the heavens and as the glorified man He entered the Holy of Holies! What a joy when the Father had the well beloved with Him again, and He took His seat at His own right hand. What joy for Him and the heavens when Glory and Honor was put upon Him and He was proclaimed throughout the depths of the universe as Heir of all things! What joy! All power in heaven and on earth is His. Oh the joy! as sinners are saved by Grace, whom He redeemed by His blood. And as His body is building He rejoiceth as the bridegroom over the bride. In unspeakable joy He carrieth on His loving, tender, priestly work in behalf of those for whom He died. His joy and delight, as well as His love and His power is with them, who are His. But there is greater joy in the future for Him, the Man in Glory. Though even now He _is_ "anointed with the oil of gladness above all His fellows." His joy will increase and be full in the future. Another glad shout will be heard when he leaves the Father's throne and descends into the air. A shout of triumph and joy it will be, which will open the graves of the Saints, which will summon those who remain to meet Him in the air. Oh the joy at last the travail of His soul will be brought into His presence. Oh the joy! He will have us then and we will be with Him. With _exceeding joy_ He will present us faultless before the presence of His Glory (Jud. 24). In joy and a glorious triumph He will bring many sons to glory. What joy it will be when He leads forth from heaven's glorious mansions, those who are "God's workmanship created by Christ Jesus!" Then all the world will know and angels shout once more for joy in the full and glorious revelation of the new creation. Oh! the Joy for Him! when Israel cries out "Blessed is He that cometh in the name of the Lord!" Oh the joy! when creation sings her songs of praise to Him, whose pierced hands have removed the curse. Oh! the joy! when nations hear war no more but sing the worth of the King of Kings and lay their gifts at His feet. If we could measure all which was accomplished on Calvary's cross, then we could also measure His joy, the joy of the Lord. Reader! If you are saved by Grace, one with the Lord, then all this is yours. The joy in the Lord and the joy of the Lord is to be your portion now and in the day of His joy and glory. Murmuring, discouraged, tempted, complaining, bereaved, downhearted, halfhearted child of God, ponder over these words. Let God's Spirit lead you into them. The joy of the Lord is to be your portion. It will dispel your gloom. It will end your discouragement. It will give you songs in the night. It will lift you into a holy walk. The joy of the Lord can do this. He wants you to possess His joy. "These things have I spoken unto you, and that your joy might be full" (John xv:11). Let the Holy Spirit, who is given to you of God, make the Lord Jesus Christ a greater reality in your life. Let the joy of the Lord be your joy. Rejoice in God, the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ. Let your joy be to do His will. Accept all from His hands. Rejoice in all things. "Rejoice in the Lord always, and again I say, Rejoice" (Phil. iv:4). Rejoice and glory in tribulation. "Count it all joy when ye fall in divers temptations" (James i:2). Having Christ, brought nigh to God, a perfect access into His presence, yea the right to come with boldness, a rejoicing and praising spirit should be manifested by us. And look at the joy which is set before us. How it ought to lift us over all the present day trials and temptations and give us victory over the cares and anxieties, the pleasures and deceitful riches of this present evil and fast closing age. "Enter thou into the joy of _Thy_ Lord." This _is_ our blessed and glorious future. We shall share His future joy as we shall share His glory. And it is but a little while longer and weeping, which endured for the night, will give way to the _joy of the morning_. "This Same Jesus." "AND He led them out as far as to Bethany, and He lifted up His hands, and blessed them. And it came to pass, while he blessed them, He was parted from them, and carried up into heaven. And they worshipped Him, and returned to Jerusalem with great joy and were continually in the temple, praising and blessing God" (Luke xxiv:50-53). Something else is reported in the first chapter in the book of Acts in connection with the Return of our blessed Lord to the Father. "And while they looked steadfastly toward heaven as He went up, behold, two men stood by them in white apparel, which also said, Ye men of Galilee, why stand ye gazing up into heaven? _This same Jesus_, which is taken up from you into heaven, shall so come in like manner as ye have seen Him go into heaven". (Acts i:10-11). This blessed message must have been the reason why they returned to Jerusalem with _great_ joy. Instead of tears and sorrow at that parting there was joy, because they knew and believed that He who had said "I will come again and receive you unto myself," this same Jesus would come for them. What a blessed truth it is that the same Jesus, the same Lord who walked on earth, who spoke such words of infinite love and tenderness, who wept, healed the sick, raised the dead and commanded the demons, who calmed the storm, who had gone to the cross to die that awful death in our stead--that this same Jesus, raised from the dead, is now in the presence of God for us and our Advocate with the Father. It is the same loving, tender, caring, mighty Lord and Saviour, who is there and this same Jesus, not another, will come again. The reality of this filled the disciples with joy. They knew He had left them, they knew He lived and that He would come again. This knowledge gave them power to witness and to walk in holiness. The reality of this fills still the believing heart with joy and leads as well as keeps in the blessed faith life of fellowship with Himself, into which we have been called by the Grace of God. The heart of the believer under the control of the Holy Spirit has but one desire. It is to know Him and know Him better. Other desires for blessings may come up, but that life which is in the believer ever reaches out after Himself who is our life. "That I may know Him" was the passion of that wonderful man, who knew Him so well (Phil. iii:10). And it is just heart knowledge of this same Jesus in His loveliness, His patience, His power, His glory, in all His blessed fullness, which we need the most and through this all other needs are met. Look up then in faith, child of God, He who is altogether lovely, whose perfect ways of love and grace, were so blessedly made known in His life down here, this same Jesus, with all the tenderness of infinite love, the love that never grows cold, is with the Father. Jesus Christ, the same, yesterday, to-day and forever. The disciples heard Him pray His great prayer before He went to the cross (John xvii). As they listened to His words addressed to the Father, they learned as never before, how dear they all were to Him. How He loved them, cared for them, what He had done for them, would continue to do and what their future would be. And whenever we read these words in His high priestly prayer, we can hear Him still pray. We know that love for us cannot change; that prayer to keep does not fail; that concern, so deep and gracious, in all who belong to Him is unchanged, for it is "this same Jesus," who intercedes for us, whose loving eyes watch our going in and our going out, our walk down here. Oh! for the reality of this! This same blessed Lord is with us, for us, above us. We can count on His unchanging love. We can count on His power. The reality of the Person of our exalted Lord keeps us down here. Oh, draw near, beloved reader, for it is your privilege, your calling, to know Him and to enjoy Him. His heart is never satisfied unless you drink deep of His love and you lie in blessed dependence at His feet. Have you failed Him? Are days, weeks, perhaps months of wandering your past, days in which you grieved Him? Return, oh return! it is "this same Jesus" who at the lake of Tiberias so tenderly restored Peter and who waits for thy return. And "this same Jesus" comes again. If the joy was so great when He left, because the heavenly messengers gave the good news that this same Jesus is coming again, what will be the joy when he _does_ come! He comes as Saviour, which is the meaning of His blessed name. "For our conversation is in heaven; from whence also we look for the Saviour, the Lord Jesus Christ, who shall change our body of humiliation, that it may be fashioned like unto His glorious body" (Phil. iii:20-21). The glorious appearing of the great God and our Saviour Jesus Christ who gave Himself for us, will some day take place. And when He comes into the air and gives the shout, He will be "this same Jesus." When we are caught up in clouds to meet Him in the air we shall meet _Him_, the same blessed Person, who walked on this earth, who died on the cross, who in His unchanging love kept and carried us and called us home. We shall see Him as He is. He comes, this same Jesus, to take us to be with Him. What will be His joy then when all His blood-washed, redeemed people are at last with Him! Then this same Jesus who bore our sins in His own body on the tree will bestow upon us His glory, the glory the Father has given Him. Reader! Is it even now before you such a living reality, this same Jesus--is coming again; coming to take us all into the Father's house with its many mansions, to the place whose portals were opened with His own blood! And how soon it may be that we shall see Him and be with Him! If an angelic message were brought to-day to all Christians, we said recently in a meeting, and that message would state in terms unmistakably, one week more and the Lord Jesus Christ comes, one week more and we shall see Him; what would be the result? We can imagine the eagerness with which all would begin to serve and reach out after the unsaved; what self-denials and boldness we would behold! How all the earthly things, the childish things, the playthings of the dust, would lose their attractiveness. Then heaven's glory would break upon us. But such a message is not promised to us. It is nowhere said that it will take place. No angel will come to announce the time when "this same Jesus" comes to call us home. The fact is God has told us in His Word, that His ever blessed Son will come and that He will come suddenly. He may come _to-day_. He may call us home before another morning comes. And if we believe it we shall walk in expectation and in separation. The Lord graciously revive the blessed Hope in our hearts and through it make us holy in our lives, zealous for the Gospel, untiring in service and loving towards all the Saints. The Wondrous Cross. WHO can tell out the story of the cross! There was a time when we thought we knew much of it; but oh! the depths, the wonderful depths of the cross and the work accomplished there, which constantly break in upon the heart, as one meditates on the cross. One who knew the cross, whose eyes were filled with all its glory, because He beheld Him, who hung on the cross, in highest glory has told us "But God forbid that I should glory, save in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ, by whom the world is crucified unto me, and I unto the world." Crucified unto the world. Dead to the world and to sin are the blessed effects of the cross. Some time ago while remembering the Lord on the Lord's Day we sang a familiar hymn: When we survey the wondrous cross On which the Lord of glory died, Our richest gain we count but loss, And pour contempt on all our pride. How true!--contempt must be poured on all our pride when one beholds that sight, the cross on which the Lord of glory died. But is it so, "and pour contempt on all our pride?" And when we sang the second verse its truth came home still more to the conscience: Forbid it, Lord, that we should boast, Save in the death of Christ, our God; All the vain things that charm us most, We'd sacrifice them to His blood. How true! If such a one died to deliver us out of this present evil age then the vain things that charm us most, not the sinful things, must be relinquished. But is it really so--all the vain things that charm us most--we'd sacrifice them to His blood? There from His head, His hands, His feet, Sorrow and love flowed mingled down; Did e'er such love and sorrow meet, Or thorns compose so rich a crown? Were the whole realm of nature ours, That were an off'ring far too small; Love that transcends our highest powers Demands our soul, our life, our all. And then once more the heart said, How true! Marvelous sight the Lord of Glory on that cross for me! Forsaken of God, paying the penalty of my sins, drinking the cup of wrath, untasted by me. Such love surely demands our soul, our life, our all. But is it so? How often we sing these blessed truths and our lives are strangers to them. God grant that we may live out the truth of the cross in our lives. May the deliverance, the victory, the power of His cross be manifested in our lives. Dead to the world and the world dead to me. His Legacy. BLESSED and ever precious are the words, which came from the lips of our loving Lord, before he went to the cross. His own were gathered around Him; before He ever comforted them and poured out His loving heart, He manifested that love by serving them. He arose from the supper, laid aside His garments, took a towel and girded Himself. What a sight the Son of God girded! "After that He poureth water into a basin, and began to wash the disciples' feet, and to wipe them with the towel wherewith he was girded" (John xiii:5). It was a great symbolical action. He who stooped so low to wash the feet of His sinful creatures is the same who declared in the Old Testament "Thou hast made me to serve with thy sins, thou hast wearied me with thine iniquities" (Isaiah xliii:24). The washing typifies the service our beloved Lord renders to His saints in cleansing them from defilement; it is "the washing of water by the Word." And thus He continues in loving service till at last all His redeemed people are brought home into the presence of the throne and "the sea of glass like unto crystal" (Rev. iv:6) where no more defilement is possible and no more washing is needed. Many and blessed are the words, which then flowed from His lips, after Judas had gone out into the dark night. Only He could speak thus. Thousands upon thousands, countless multitudes have been fed upon His gracious, comforting words and have been strengthened and upheld. Their careful and refreshing power is undiminished. Like Himself His Words are eternal and inexhaustible. The Father's house with its many mansions, the fact of His personal return, the gift of the other Comforter, who came to abide with and in His own, the promises concerning prayer and assurance that the Father Himself loves them and many other precious truths were spoken by Him ere He left the world to go to the Father. At that time He gave His blessed legacy. "_Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you_" (John xiv:27). And the last word He spoke to His disciples before He uttered that marvelous high priestly prayer, contains also the assurance of peace. "These things have I spoken unto you, that _in Me_ ye might have _peace_. In the world ye shall have tribulation; but be of good cheer I have overcome the world" (John xvi:33). The adorable Lord came to this poor sin cursed earth, a world of sinners and enemies of God by wicked works to make peace. The great work of reconciliation was effected on the cross. By His death on the cross the enemies of God, believing in Him, became reconciled to God. He made peace through the blood of His cross (Col. i:20). As believing sinners we are justified and _have_ peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ. Not our walk or service, not our faith or repentance or anything we have done or are doing is the ground of peace with God, but what Christ has done for us. Yea He Himself is our peace. And because _He_ is our peace, it is a peace which can never be undone or unsettled. Oh, the peace forever flowing From God's thoughts of His own Son! Oh, the peace of simply knowing On the cross that all was done! Peace with God, the blood in heaven Speaks of pardon now to me: Peace with God! the Lord is risen! Righteousness now counts me free. When all was finished, the mighty victory over sin, Satan, death and the grave had been gained, when every foe had been met and fully conquered, the blessed victor appeared in the midst of His beloved disciples. It was on "the same day" the day when He arose, when the mighty power of God opened the grave, on the same day, He suddenly stood in their midst. The doors were shut. The disciples were full of fears and doubts. Thomas was not there at all. All at once their eyes beheld Him once more who had been crucified, had died and was buried. "Peace be unto you!" This heavenly greeting came from His lips and soothed their sorrows, cleared their doubts and dispelled their fears. And He who stood thus in their midst was the same whom Gideon had seen and who answered His fears with "Peace be unto you; fear not" (Judges vi:23). Jehovah is peace; He is our peace. On the glad and glorious resurrection day the gracious Lord appeared in their midst and proclaimed peace to them. But He also showed them His hands and His side. The marks of the nails and of the spear were seen there. They are the evidences of His death for His people. But He who was dead is risen and lives evermore. Ah! that is peace! The Christ who died for our sins, who is risen and is in God's own presence is our peace. Would we enjoy that peace in a greater sense and have it more real, then let us just have Himself, the Person as the object of our hearts. "Then were the disciples glad, when they saw the Lord." Nothing could make them glad aside from the Lord Himself. Alas! that some of God's people try to find joy and peace in their service, experiences, knowledge of truth. Dear souls, it is the Lord only, who gives us peace and gladness. But the blessed legacy of our Lord is not so much the peace with God, as it is "His own peace." The peace which He possessed while on earth, that peace like a majestic river, ever flowing on in silence with not a moment's interruption. His own peace, He bequeathed to His own. What a peace was His! What restfulness the divinely reported scenes of that blessed life breathe! We have written before on His patience, His joy and His love, the love which passeth knowledge. How much might be written too on "His peace." But not half could ever be told. What calmness we see wherever we look. The threatening multitudes did not disturb Him, nor did the fierce storm on the Galilean sea; peacefully He rested in sleep, while the angry waves tossed the little ship aside and the terror-stricken disciples awoke Him. They cried "Lord, save us; we perish." And then His eyes opened and in loving tenderness He said unto them, "Why are ye so fearful, O ye of little faith?" _Then_ He arose and rebuked the winds and the sea and there was a great calm. Ah! poor human heart! how canst thou ever doubt with such a Lord at thy side! And this peace which was His constant portion, was the result of a constant communion with God. His meat and drink was to do the will of Him that sent Him. That calm, unruffled peace was the fruit of His constant trust in God and dependence on Him. And this peace He wants us to enjoy. In a world full of tribulation, anxiety and care, a world full of increasing evils, conflicts and sufferings, He wants us to have His own peace. The enjoyment of this peace of our Lord Jesus Christ depends on our communion with God and the realization of our union with Him. On that blessed evening of the resurrection day the Lord spoke a second time, "Peace be unto you." Why should He repeat the same greeting? The words which follow explain this. "As my Father hath sent me, even so send I you" (John xx:22). As Christians saved by grace and in Christ we are sent by Him as He was sent by the Father. As we realize this and walk under Him, as we set the Lord always before our eyes and our life's aim is to do _His_ will and not our own, to please Him and not ourselves, to serve Him and not man, to let Him plan and not we ourselves, to be nothing instead of something, to be in the dust instead of exalted, then shall we enjoy His legacy "His own peace." He wants us to have it. He wants us to be kept in perfect peace. Are we willing to have it? And what else honors our absent Lord more than a life which manifests His peace. What pleases the Father more than to behold His children reminding Him by their lives of dependence and peace, the result of the rest of faith, of His own blessed Son. And the Holy Spirit, who produces all this in us will ever lead us on in the fuller enjoyment of the peace of our Lord Jesus Christ. We must expect in the coming days greater tests of faith, greater conflicts, greater trials. It cannot be otherwise in these perilous times. We must not expect anything else. But He can and will keep us. "Thou wilt keep him in _perfect peace_, whose mind is stayed on Thee, because He trusteth in Thee." And ere long the God of peace will bruise Satan completely under our feet. What joy--oh what joy awaits us when we shall see Him face to face, who is our peace. "They that trust Him wholly Find Him wholly true." "Our God is able." What have I to Do With idols? MUCH is said in reproof of Ephraim by the prophet Hosea. All the wicked dealings and defilement of Ephraim is uncovered--and the Lord said: "I will be unto Ephraim as a lion." Again Jehovah said: "Ephraim is like a cake not turned." "Ephraim is like a silly dove without heart." "Ephraim hath made many altars to sin." "Ephraim is joined to idols, let him alone." But all reproof and chastisement did not bring Ephraim back. Nothing seemed to be able to draw Ephraim's heart away from the idols. At the close of the Prophet Hosea, however, Ephraim is made to speak and a significant word it is. "Ephraim shall say, What have I to do any more with idols? I have heard Him, and observed Him; I am like a green fir tree. From me is thy fruit found" (xiv:8). A familiar yet blessed truth is contained in this statement. Ephraim dealt with by judgments after the severe rebukes of the Lord could not let go the idols. Joined to idols, the Lord said, "Let him alone." But the day was to come when Ephraim would willingly forsake all idols and cry out, "What have I any more to do with idols?" And what brought about Ephraim's conversion? Ephraim heard Him and observed Him. The sight of the Lord, His love and tenderness, His patience and kindness beheld in faith, was enough for Ephraim to forsake all idols and cleave to Him alone. Thus Ephraim became like a green fir tree. And this is still true to-day. There is no other way to be separated from idols and walk wholly with the Lord than Ephraim's way. Why are God's people joined to idols? Why are Christians half-hearted, conformed to this present evil age, given to covetousness, which is idolatry (Col. iii:5)? There is but one answer. Our hearts do not listen to that blessed voice, which delights to speak to those who belong to Him. Our eyes do not look upon Him in all His glory and beauty. We lose sight of Him who is altogether lovely. Our minds instead of being occupied with the things of Christ are centered upon earthly things. Our thoughts are so little brought into captivity to the obedience of Christ and are controlled by our own imaginations and the spirit of the times. There is no other way of being delivered from idols, from everything which would draw us away from Himself and all which hinders from giving to Him the pre-eminence. That way is heart occupation with our Lord, conscious communion with Him through His Word in the power of His Spirit. We must hear Him, we must observe Him. Then He appears to our hearts in all His lowliness, in all His majesty and glory, and that vision will be enough to disgust us with the playthings of the dust and He will become the supreme object of our lives. There is no other way to practical holiness than hearing Him and observing Him. Hast thou heard Him, seen Him, known Him? Is not thine a captured heart? "Chief among ten thousand" own Him, Joyful choose the better part. Idols once they won thee, charmed thee, Lovely things of time and sense; Gilded, thus does sin disarm thee, Honey'd lest thou turn thee thence. What has stript the seeming beauty From the idols of the earth? Not the sense of right or duty, But the sight of peerless worth. Not the crushing of those idols, With its bitter void and smart, But the beaming of His beauty, The unveiling of His heart. Who extinguishes their taper Till they hail the rising sun? Who discards the garb of winter Till the summer has begun? 'Tis that look that melted Peter, 'Tis that face that Stephen saw, 'Tis that heart that wept with Mary. Can alone from idols draw-- Draw, and win, and _fill completely_, Till the cup o'erflow the brim; What have we to do with idols, Who have companied with Him? Reader! Gaze afresh in that lovely face of transcendent beauty. Think of His great love for you, His never-changing love, His eternal love. Follow the dictates of that new nature Grace has given to you and have the Lord constantly before your eyes and heart. Anything less will lead you to idols. What have I to do any more with idols? I have heard Him and observed Him. The Never Changing One. "JESUS Christ the same yesterday, and to-day and forever" (Heb. xiii:8). Blessed truth and precious assurance for us poor, weak creatures, yea, among all His creatures the most changing; _He_ changeth not. "For I am the Lord, I change not" (Mal. iii:6). "Of old hast Thou laid the foundation of the earth, and the heavens are the work of Thy hands. They shall all perish, but Thou shalt endure: yea all of them shall wax old like a garment, as a vesture shalt Thou change them, and they shall be changed; but Thou art the same, and Thy years shall have no end" (Psalm cii:25-27 and Heb. i:10-12). The above blessed statement puts Him before our hearts as the unchanging Son of God, the solid rock of ages. It is a verse which is like Himself, infinite, inexhaustible. Our adorable Lord is here mentioned as having a past, a present and a future, a yesterday, to-day and a forever. This Epistle at the close of which we find this word gives us a definition of the yesterday, the today and the forever of the Son of God. He is the true God; He had never the beginning of days, a yesterday, a past without a beginning. By Him the worlds were made. He is the effulgence of His glory and the expression of His substance (Heb. i:3). His yesterday is Eternity; His goings forth are from old, from everlasting (Micah v:2). And in that yesterday, in the bosom of the Father, the great plan of redemption was blessedly known. Oh! what a love that knew all and was ever ready to give all to carry out that wonderful scheme. "Wherefore coming into the world, He says, sacrifice and offering Thou willedst not; but Thou hast prepared me a body. Thou hadst no pleasure in burnt offerings and sacrifices for sin. Then I said, Lo, I come, in the roll of the book it is written of me, to do, O God, Thy will" (Heb. x:5-7). And then He came to manifest the eternal love of God. He came in the form of a servant; He, whose yesterday is eternity, was made a little lower than the angles (Heb. ii:9). And while on earth He was the same as in eternity. He showed His power as the Creator, over nature, disease and death. Though in humiliation, the Son of God had Glory, yet it was hidden. How blessed it is to trace His way while on earth and what love, mercy, patience, meekness, humility, peace and much more we find here. And then His great work of redemption. It behooved Him in all things to be made like unto "His brethren, that He might be a merciful and faithful high priest in things relating to God to make propitiation for the sins of the people (Heb. ii:7). Who in the days of His flesh having offered up both supplications and entreaties to Him, who was able to save Him out of death; with strong crying and tears (having been heard because of His piety); though He were Son yet learned obedience from the things He suffered; and having been perfected, became to all of them that obey Him, author of eternal salvation" (v:7-10). In His yesterday He made purification of sins; He put away sin by sacrificing Himself. He fulfilled the eternal will of God, by which will we have been sanctified through the offering of the body of Jesus Christ once for all. And this Epistle likewise speaks of His "today," the Present of Himself. His "to-day" began with the opened tomb, that blessed, glorious resurrection morn. He is the great shepherd of the sheep brought again from the dead, our Lord Jesus Christ (xiii:20). He is the appointed heir of all things, on the right hand of the majesty on high, taking a place so much better than the angels, as He inherits a name more excellent than they (Heb. i:3-5). He is addressed by God as high priest according to the order of Melchisedec (v:10). We gaze into the opened heavens and we see Jesus who was made a little lower than the angels for the suffering of death, crowned with glory and honor (ii:9). Now a summary of the things of which we are speaking is: We have such a one high priest who has sat down at the right hand of the throne of the majesty in the heavens; minister of the holy places and the true tabernacle, which the Lord has pitched and not man (vii:1). He has a priesthood unchangeable. Whence also He is able to save to the uttermost those who approach by Him to God, always living to intercede for them (viii:25). For the Christ is not entered into holy places made with hands, figures of the true, but into heaven itself, now to appear in the presence of God for us (ix:24). But, He having offered one sacrifice for sins, sat down in perpetuity at the right hand of God, waiting from henceforth until His enemies are made His footstool (x:12). Such and much more is His "to-day." All power in heaven and on earth is given to Him. His "forever" will begin when He leaves the Father's throne and when He is brought into the world again, when all things are to be subjected under His feet and He will be in the fullest exercise of His Melchisedec priesthood, a priest upon His throne. And in all, yesterday, in the days of His humiliation, to-day upon the Father's throne as our advocate and priest, in His glorious future, upon His own throne He is the same, the mighty Jehovah, who changeth not, the Alpha and the Omega, the First and the Last. He is the unmovable rock, no storms, no changes can move the rock upon which we stand, and though heaven and earth pass away neither He, the living, eternal Word, nor His written Word will change. His power, His grace, His love, His patience, is kindness, His sympathy is ever the same towards His own beloved people, who have trusted in Him and share His life. Having loved His own, who are in the world, and loved them to the end (John xiii:1); and that end is eternity. In the beginning of the last book of the Bible, we hear the voice of the Holy Spirit in the church, worshipping Him, in that matchless outburst "Unto Him that loved us and has washed us from our sins in His own blood." But it does not say "loved," but it reads "Unto Him that _loveth_ us." The love He has for His own is an abiding, an unchanging love. Oh to think more of that love, that changeless love, which passeth knowledge! And how true it is what a saint has sung long ago: "Oh! I am weary of my love, That doth so little t'wards Thee move; Yet do I constantly groan, To know the depth of all Thine own. That groan, sweet Spirit, is from Thee, Nor self-begotten e'er can be; No natural heart, oh Lord, of mine Could long to lose itself in Thine. O love of loves, for me that died; The love of Jesus crucified! Who lowly took His part with me, That I as _one_ with Him might be. Loved, and for ever on Thy throne Adored, and loved, Thou changeless One; Thou wilt thro' one eternal day, The height and depth of all display." Meanwhile, Thou precious, wondrous Lamb Content--at least with this I am, To count my love too mean to own, And know but Thine--"_Thy love alone_." And yet how often we doubt that love and by fear, when we have come short or fallen in sin, insult that mighty changeless love. How often, too, when trials are upon us and we suffer, we lose sight of Him, the unchanging One, who loves His own to the end, and deep down in the heart there is unrest, anxiety, as if some evil could come upon us. Our weakness, our imperfections, our failures and our sins do not change His love and His grace. As He was yesterday with His own and kept them, carried them, was their strength, their help, their refuge and their safe hiding place, their peace and their comfort, so is He to-day, so will He be forever. And in faith we can bring it stiller nearer to our hearts. He is for each the same loving, sympathizing, caring, interested Saviour, Friend and Lord. He who helped you yesterday, whose love was about you in the past, who has not left you since He found you for a single moment, is the same to-day, and will never be anything less. He will keep each member of His body, He will carry, He will lead onward, and with His unchanging love and power deal with each, as it pleases Him. Oh that we might cast ourselves more upon Him and spend the remainder of our days here (how few indeed!) in a more utter dependence upon Him, trusting Him, the changeless One. Oh for a closer walk with Him in these evil days and to taste more of His love, His unchanging love. How happy, restful, without care and anxiety God's people _might_ be if only their hearts were fixed upon Him who is the same yesterday, to-day and forever. Alas! how often the things seen are more real to us as the real things, the things unseen. What a joy it ought to be to our hearts to follow Him now, to learn over and over again that He is the same, who changeth not, to find His power and strength as of old manifested in behalf of His beloved people. Be of Good Cheer. "BE of good cheer; it is I; be not afraid" (Matthew xiv:27). "Let not your heart be troubled; ye believe in God believe also in Me. In my father's house are many mansions; if it were not so I would have told you. I go to prepare a place for you. And if I go to prepare a place for you, I will come again, and receive you unto myself; that where I am, there ye may be also" (John xiv:1-3). "Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you; not as the world giveth, give I unto you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid" (John xiv:27). "In the world ye shall have tribulation; but be of good cheer, I have overcome the world" (John xvi:33). "Father, I will that they also whom Thou hast given Me, be with Me where I am" (John xvii:24). "Lo, I am with you alway, even unto the end of the age" (Matthew xxviii:20). "He hath said I will never leave thee, nor forsake thee" (Hebrews xiii:5). "Fear not, I am the first and the last; I am He that liveth and was dead and behold I am alive forevermore, amen; and I have the keys of hades and of death" (Rev. i:17, 18). "Behold I come quickly; hold that fast which thou hast, that no man take thy crown" (Rev. iii:11). "Surely I come quickly. Amen" (Rev. xxii.20). These precious words of comfort and cheer came from His loving heart and lips. May we take hold of them. How well it is to remember His words and Himself. How worthy He is; the mighty, the loving, the adorable Lord! How He loveth us His own, how He careth for us, is mindful of us and carrieth us, no heart can fully understand, no pen describe. How He came from heaven's glory long ago, how He the One, who was rich, became poor for our sakes and died on the cross, that we might share eternal riches and glory with Him, is the old story, which never grows old. It is as fresh and new to the believing heart as it ever has been. And He who bought us with His own blood, loveth and carrieth us His poor, weak and sinning people with such love and infinite patience. The past years of our Christian lives, so all of us must confess, have been filled with many failures. But as we come to Him with our failures, our sins, our burdens, we find Him the same loving, tender Saviour. Ah! who can measure the depths of His love! He will never cease loving those, who have accepted him as their Saviour and whom He has accepted as His own. In His gracious hands we are and all His people. The hands which were pierced for us on the cross are over us and about us. They carry us, guide us, hold us and keep us. We are His and nothing can separate us from Him in time and in eternity. With a joyful heart we can say "I am my Beloved's and His desire is toward me." O Lord! 'tis sweet the thought That Thou art mine! But brighter still the joy That I am Thine. Oh, dear Christian readers, how happy we might be if only all this were constantly real to our hearts and our minds were occupied with that blessed, glorious One. What joy and blessing we will have, if we walk closer with the Lord and live that life to which we have been called, live by the faith of the Son of God. And the words He left us are just like Himself, Love, Hope and Comfort. There is nothing to fear for one who is in Him. He would have His beloved people free from all fear, anxiety and care. Twice He has told us "Let not your heart be troubled." "Fear not!" "Be not afraid!" How much these words mean if we consider Him who spoke them. They must calm every fear and lift the trusting child of God over all the dark and difficult things on the way. The blessed words we have quoted are the never failing comfort for His people till they are gathered in His own presence. The greatest anodyne, however, He has given to us, the anodyne for all pains and sorrows, griefs and perplexities is the blessed Hope. "I will come again and receive you unto myself" was spoken long ago, and yet it is still unfulfilled. Almost the last petition of His great high-priestly prayer is the petition to have His own with Himself in the Father's house. "Father, I will that they also, whom Thou hast given Me, be with Me where I am." This prayer is still unanswered. "Behold I come quickly" are His own words in the third chapter of Revelation, words so full of meaning for us, exhorting us to hold fast what we have. And in the very end of the Book, almost the last word of the Bible is the last word He ever spoke. "_Surely_ I come quickly. Amen." He has not spoken again after this last utterance, so full of assurance. The next time His blessed voice will speak will be when He comes into the air and gives the mighty shout (1 Thess. iv:16) which will call the saints from their graves and ourselves from earth's sorrow together with them to meet Him in the air. That blessed Hope is the great anodyne, the soothing as well as inspiring truth of the Bible, which stands next to and in closest relation with the Gospel. That blessed Hope is an imminent Hope. How cheerless it would be to think that the Lord cannot come for many years, that He cannot fulfill His blessed promise. How cheerless, yea, how depressing and discouraging it would be if it were true that the true believers must pass through the great tribulation, suffer under Antichrist, taste of the wrath, which will then be poured out. Such an expectation would not be a blessed Hope, but a depressing outlook. But blessed be God this is not the teaching of the Word, but only the invention of man. We are not to wait for the apostasy, the great tribulation, great earthquakes and disasters, but for Himself. He may come at any time and call us into His presence. To wait daily for Him is the true Christian attitude, which is a mighty power in the Christian life, walk and service. How we shall be weaned away from the passing things of this age, how we shall look upon all in its true light and be faithful witnesses for our Lord, if we walk in this daily expectation of meeting Him. And this we need. The Lord Jesus Christ must become more real to our hearts. Our fellowship with Him, our trust in Him, our walk in Him, our waiting for Him, all must become more real. The Holy Spirit in His power will accomplish this in our lives. In the awful darkness, which is settling upon this age, only such can abide faithful who cling closer to the Lord and who wait for His coming. The Lord grant this to all His people. He'll come again, And prove our hope not vain; We wait the moment, oh, so fair; To rise and meet Him in the air; His heart, His home, His throne to share-- O wondrous love! Make Haste. THE little book called Solomon's Song, in the Hebrew "the Song of Songs," because it exalts and describes the Bridegroom, closes with that longing cry, "Make Haste my Beloved." How this applies dispensationally we do not follow here. It is the same desire for Himself, which is found almost the last thing in the Bible, the great prayer, "Even so come Lord Jesus." The soul which knows Him, follows closely after Him, and gets daily more of Himself will ever long for Him and for His Coming. The desire and prayer will arise many times each day from such a heart, "Make Haste my Beloved" --"Even so, come Lord Jesus." The Holy Spirit ungrieved and unhindered in the believer will not alone produce this desire, but keep it alive in the soul and make it more intense. One may hold the Second Coming of Christ in a mere intellectual way; there is no profit in that. The blessed Hope must have its seat in the heart and affection. It is therefore a good test of our spiritual state. If our hearts are crying more for Him, longing to be with the Beloved, and we daily sigh for Himself to come and take us home, we are then certainly walking in the Spirit. Such a desire will also lead us into holiness of life and true service for Him. And as we look about us at the condition of things, surely only the Coming of our Lord appears to be the remedy. Nothing less than that event can arrest the dreadful conditions and bring the long promised deliverance. "The whole creation groaneth and travaileth in pain together until now. And not only they, but ourselves also, which have the first fruits of the Spirit, even we ourselves groan within ourselves, waiting for the adoption, the redemption of the body" (Rom. viii:22-23). What a day it will be when at last He descends into the air to call His own, His Beloved together! What a day it will be when together with those who are raised from their graves we shall be caught up in clouds to meet HIM in the sky! What a day when He purges the earth by fire and comes with all His Saints to reign. Make haste! Even so, come Lord Jesus! Lord Jesus, come! And take Thy people home; That all Thy flock, so scattered here, With Thee in glory may appear. Lord Jesus, come! "Soon the day-dawn will be breaking And the shadows flee away; Now, by faith, in joy and gladness, I await the coming day, For I know my soul is safely Hidden in His wounded side; And anon He sweetly tells me I shall soon be satisfied. Lo! He tells me _now_ His secret, Cheering with His heavenly smile; Telling me, in love's low whisper, It is but 'a little while;' Yes, for soon, to brightest glory, He will fetch away His bride; Then I'll shine in His own likeness, And be ever satisfied!" 
19082	----	THE DESTINY OF THE SOUL. A CRITICAL HISTORY OF THE DOCTRINE OF A FUTURE LIFE, BY WILLIAM ROUNSEVILLE ALGER. TENTH EDITION, WITH SIX NEW CHAPTERS, AND A Complete Bibliography of the Subject. [Note: bibliography not included here] COMPRISING 4977 BOOKS RELATING TO THE NATURE, ORIGIN, AND DESTINY OF THE SOUL. THE TITLES CLASSIFIED AND ARRANGED CHRONOLOGICALLY, WITH NOTES, AND INDEXES OF THE AUTHORS AND SUBJECTS. BY EZRA ABBOT, PROFESSOR OF NEW TESTAMENT CRITICISM AND INTERPRETATION IN THE DIVINITY SCHOOL OF HARVARD UNIVERSITY. BOSTON: ROBERTS BROTHERS. 1880 Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1860, by WILLIAM ROUNSEVILLE ALGER, in the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States for the District of Massachusetts. Copyright 1878, W.R. Alger ELECTROTYPED BY JOHNSON & CO., PHILADA. University Press: John Wilson & Son, Cambridge. PREFACE TO THE TENTH EDITION. THIS work has passed through nine editions, and has been out of print now for nearly a year. During the twenty years which have elapsed since it was written, the question of immortality, the faith and opinions of men and the drift of criticism and doubt concerning it, have been a subject of dominant interest to me, and have occupied a large space in my reading and reflection. Accordingly, now that my publisher, moved by the constant demand for the volume, urges the preparation of a new edition introducing such additional materials as my continued researches have gathered or constructed, I gladly comply with his request. The present work is not only historic but it is also polemic; polemic, however, not in the spirit or interest of any party or conventicle, but in the spirit and interest of science and humanity. Orthodoxy insists on doctrines whose irrationality in their current forms is such that they can never be a basis for the union of all men. Therefore, to discredit these, in preparation for more reasonable and auspicious views, is a service to the whole human race. This is my justification for the controversial quality which may frequently strike the reader. Looking back over his pages, after nearly a quarter of a century more of investigation and experience, the author is grateful that he finds nothing to retract or expunge. He has but to add such thoughts and illustrations as have occurred to him in the course of his subsequent studies. He hopes that the supplementary chapters now published will be found more suggestive and mature than the preceding ones, while the same in aim and tone. For he still believes, as he did in his earlier time, that there is much of error and superstition, bigotry and cruelty, to be purged out of the prevailing theological creed and sentiment of Christendom. And he still hopes, as he did then, to contribute something of good influence in this direction. The large circulation of the work, the many letters of thanks for it received by the author from laymen and clergymen of different denominations, the numerous avowed and unavowed quotations from it in recent publications, all show that it has not been produced in vain, but has borne fruit in missionary service for reason, liberty, and charity. This ventilating and illumining function of fearless and reverential critical thought will need to be fulfilled much longer in many quarters. The doctrine of a future life has been made so frightful by the preponderance in it of the elements of material torture and sectarian narrowness, that a natural revulsion of generous sentiment joins with the impulse of materialistic science to produce a growing disbelief in any life at all beyond the grave. Nothing else will do so much to renew and extend faith in God and immortality as a noble and beautiful doctrine of God and immortality, freed from disfiguring terror, selfishness, and favoritism. The most popular preacher in England has recently asked his fellow believers, "Can we go to our beds and sleep while China, India, Japan, and other nations are being damned?" The proprietor of a great foundry in Germany, while he talked one day with a workman who was feeding a furnace, accidentally stepped back, and fell headlong into a vat of molten iron. The thought of what happened then horrifies the imagination. Yet it was all over in two or three seconds. Multiply the individual instance by unnumbered millions, stretch the agony to temporal infinity, and we confront the orthodox idea of hell! Protesting human nature hurls off such a belief with indignant disdain, except in those instances where the very form and vibration of its nervous pulp have been perverted by the hardening animus of a dogmatic drill transmitted through generations. To trace the origin of such notions, expose their baselessness, obliterate their sway, and replace them with conceptions of a more rational and benignant order, is a task which still needs to be done, and to be done in many forms, over and over, again and again. Though each repetition tell but slightly, it tells. Every sound argument is instantly crowned with universal victory in the sight of God, and therefore must at last be so in the sight of mankind. However slowly the logic of events limps after the logic of thoughts, it always follows. Let the mind of one man perceive the true meaning of the doctrine of the general resurrection and judgment and eternal life, as a natural evolution of history from within, and it will spread to the minds of all men; and the misinterpretation of that doctrine so long prevalent, as a preternatural irruption of power from without, will be set aside forever. For there is a providential plan of God, not injected by arbitrary miracle, but inhering in the order of the world, centred in the propulsive heart of humanity, which beats throb by throb along the web of events, removing obstacles and clearing the way for the revelation of the completed pattern. When it is done no trumpets may be blown, no rocks rent, no graves opened. But all immortal spirits will be at their goals, and the universe will be full of music. NEW YORK, February 22, 1878. PREFACE. WHO follows truth carries his star in his brain. Even so bold a thought is no inappropriate motto for an intellectual workman, if his heart be filled with loyalty to God, the Author of truth and the Maker of stars. In this double spirit of independence and submission it has been my desire to perform the arduous task now finished and offered to the charitable judgment of the reader. One may be courageous to handle both the traditions and the novelties of men, and yet be modest before the solemn mysteries of fate and nature. He may place no veil before his eyes and no finger on his lips in presence of popular dogmas, and yet shrink from the conceit of esteeming his mind a mirror of the universe. Ideas, like coins, bear the stamp of the age and brain they were struck in. Many a phantom which ought to have vanished at the first cock crowing of reason still holds its seat on the oppressed heart of faith before the terror stricken eyes of the multitude. Every thoughtful scholar who loves his fellow men must feel it an obligation to do what he can to remove painful superstitions, and to spread the peace of a cheerful faith and the wholesome light of truth. The theories in theological systems being but philosophy, why should they not be freely subjected to philosophical criticism? I have endeavored, without virulence, arrogance, or irreverence towards any thing sacred, to investigate the various doctrines pertaining to the great subject treated in these pages. Many persons, of course, will find statements from which they dissent, sentiments disagreeable to them. But, where thought and discussion are so free and the press so accessible as with us, no one but a bigot will esteem this a ground of complaint. May all such passages be charitably perused, fairly weighed, and, if unsound, honorably refuted! If the work be not animated with a mean or false spirit, but be catholic and kindly, if it be not superficial and pretentious, but be marked by patience and thoroughness, is it too much to hope that no critic will assail it with wholesale condemnation simply because in some parts of it there are opinions which he dislikes? One dispassionate argument is more valuable than a shower of missile names. The most vehement revulsion from a doctrine is not inconsistent, in a Christian mind, with the sweetest kindness of feeling towards the persons who hold that doctrine. Earnest theological debate may be carried on without the slightest touch of ungenerous personality. Who but must feel the pathos and admire the charity of these eloquent words of Henry Giles? "Every deep and reflective nature looking intently 'before and after,' looking above, around, beneath, and finding silence and mystery to all his questionings of the Infinite, cannot but conceive of existence as a boundless problem, perhaps an inevitable darkness between the limitations of man and the incomprehensibility of God. A nature that so reflects, that carries into this sublime and boundless obscurity 'the large discourse of Reason,' will not narrow its concern in the solution of the problem to its own petty safety, but will brood over it with an anxiety which throbs for the whole of humanity. Such a nature must needs be serious; but never will it be arrogant: it will regard all men with an embracing pity. Strange it should ever be otherwise in respect to inquiries which belong to infinite relations, that mean enmities, bitter hatreds, should come into play in these fathomless searchings of the soul! Bring what solution we may to this problem of measureless alternatives, whether by Reason, Scripture, or the Church, faith will never stand for fact, nor the firmest confidence for actual consciousness. The man of great and thoughtful nature, therefore, who grapples in real earnest with this problem, however satisfied he may be with his own solution of it, however implicit may be his trust, however assured his convictions, will yet often bow down before the awful veil that shrouds the endless future, put his finger on his lips, and weep in silence." The present work is in a sense, an epitome of the thought of mankind on the destiny of man. I have striven to add value to it by comprehensiveness of plan, not confining myself, as most of my predecessors have confined themselves, to one province or a few narrow provinces of the subject, but including the entire subject in one volume; by carefulness of arrangement, not piling the material together or presenting it in a chaos of facts and dreams, but grouping it all in its proper relations; by clearness of explanation, not leaving the curious problems presented wholly in the dark with a mere statement of them, but as far as possible tracing the phenomena to their origin and unveiling their purport; by poetic life of treatment, not handling the different topics dryly and coldly, but infusing warmth and color into them; by copiousness of information, not leaving the reader to hunt up every thing for himself, but referring him to the best sources for the facts, reasonings, and hints which he may wish; and by persevering patience of toil, not hastily skimming here and there and hurrying the task off, but searching and researching in every available direction, examining and re examining each mooted point, by the devotion of twelve years of anxious labor. How far my efforts in these particulars have been successful is submitted to the public. To avoid the appearance of pedantry in the multiplication of foot notes, I have inserted many authorities incidentally in the text itself, and have omitted all except such as I thought would be desired by the reader. Every scholar knows how easy it is to increase the number of references almost indefinitely, and also how deceptive such an ostensible evidence of wide reading may be. When the printing of this volume was nearly completed, and I had in some instances made more references than may now seem needful, the thought occurred to me that a full list of the books published up to the present time on the subject of a future life, arranged according to their definite topics and in chronological order, would greatly enrich the work and could not fail often to be of vast service. Accordingly, upon solicitation, a valued friend Mr. Ezra Abbot, Jr., a gentleman remarkable for his varied and accurate scholarship undertook that laborious task for me; and he has accomplished it in the most admirable manner. No reader, however learned, but may find much important information in the bibliographical appendix which I am thus enabled to add to this volume. Every student who henceforth wishes to investigate any branch of the historical or philosophical doctrine of the immortality of the soul, or of a future life in general, may thank Mr. Abbot for an invaluable aid. As I now close this long labor and send forth the result, the oppressive sense of responsibility which fills me is relieved by the consciousness that I have herein written nothing as a bigoted partisan, nothing in a petty spirit of opinionativeness, but have intended every thought for the furtherance of truth, the honor of God, the good of man. The majestic theme of our immortality allures yet baffles us. No fleshly implement of logic or cunning tact of brain can reach to the solution. That secret lies in a tissueless realm whereof no nerve can report beforehand. We must wait a little. Soon we shall grope and guess no more, but grasp and know. Meanwhile, shall we not be magnanimous to forgive and help, diligent to study and achieve, trustful and content to abide the invisible issue? In some happier age, when the human race shall have forgotten, in philanthropic ministries and spiritual worship, the bigotries and dissensions of sentiment and thought, they may recover, in its all embracing unity, that garment of truth which God made originally "seamless as the firmament," now for so long a time torn in shreds by hating schismatics. Oh, when shall we learn that a loving pity, a filial faith, a patient modesty, best become us and fit our state? The pedantic sciolist, prating of his clear explanations of the mysteries of life, is as far from feeling the truth of the case as an ape, seated on the starry summit of the dome of night, chattering with glee over the awful prospect of infinitude. What ordinary tongue shall dare to vociferate egotistic dogmatisms where an inspired apostle whispers, with reverential reserve, "We see through a glass darkly"? There are three things, said an old monkish chronicler, which often make me sad. First, that I know I must die; second, that I know not when; third, that I am ignorant where I shall then be. "Est primum durum quod scio me moriturum: Secundum, timeo quia hoc nescio quando: Hine tertium, flebo quod nescio ubi manebo." Man is the lonely and sublime Columbus of the creation, who, wandering on this cloudy strand of time, sees drifted waifs and strange portents borne far from an unknown somewhere, causing him to believe in another world. Comes not death as a means to bear him thither? Accordingly as hope rests in heaven, fear shudders at hell, or doubt faces the dark transition, the future life is a sweet reliance, a terrible certainty, or a pathetic perhaps. But living in the present in the humble and loving discharge of its duties, our souls harmonized with its conditions though aspiring beyond them, why should we ever despair or be troubled overmuch? Have we not eternity in our thought, infinitude in our view, and God for our guide? CONTENTS Part First. HISTORICAL AND CRITICAL INTRODUCTORY VIEWS. CHAPTER I. THEORIES OF THE SOUL'S ORIGIN CHAPTER II. HISTORY OF DEATH CHAPTER III. GROUNDS OF THE BELIEF IN A FUTURE LIFE CHAPTER IV. THEORIES OF THE SOUL'S DESTINATION Part Second. ETHNIC THOUGHTS CONCERNING A FUTURE LIFE. CHAPTER I. BARBARIAN NOTIONS OF A FUTURE LIFE CHAPTER II. DRUIDIC DOCTRINE OF A FUTURE LIFE CHAPTER III. SCANDINAVIAN DOCTRINE OF A FUTURE LIFE CHAPTER IV. ETRUSCAN DOCTRINE OF A FUTURE LIFE CHAPTER V. EGYPTIAN DOCTRINE OF A FUTURE LIFE CHAPTER VI. BRAMANIC AND BUDDHIST DOCTRINE OF A FUTURE LIFE CHAPTER VII. PERSIAN DOCTRINE OF A FUTURE LIFE CHAPTER VIII. HEBREW DOCTRINE OF A FUTURE LIFE CHAPTER IX. RABBINICAL DOCTRINE OF A FUTURE LIFE CHAPTER X. GREEK AND DOCTRINE OF A FUTURE LIFE CHAPTER XI. MOHAMMEDAN DOCTRINE OF A FUTURE LIFE CHAPTER XII. EXPLANATORY SURVEY OF THE FIELD AND ITS MYTHS Part Third. NEW TESTAMENT TEACHINGS CONCERNING A FUTURE LIFE. CHAPTER I. PETER'S DOCTRINE OF A FUTURE LIFE CHAPTER II. DOCTRINE OF A FUTURE LIFE IN THE EPISTLE TO THE HEBREWS CHAPTER III. DOCTRINE OF A FUTURE LIFE IN THE APOCALYPSE CHAPTER IV. PAUL'S DOCTRINE OF A FUTURE LIFE CHAPTER V. JOHN'S DOCTRINE OF A FUTURE LIFE CHAPTER VI. CHRIST'S TEACHINGS CONCERNING THE FUTURE LIFE CHAPTER VII. RESURRECTION OF CHRIST CHAPTER VIII. ESSENTIAL CHRISTIAN DOCTRINE OF DEATH AND LIFE Part Fourth. CHRISTIAN THOUGHTS CONCERNING A FUTURE LIFE. CHAPTER I. PATRISTIC DOCTRINE OF A FUTURE LIFE CHAPTER II. MEDIAVAL DOCTRINE OF A FUTURE LIFE CHAPTER III. MODERN DOCTRINE OF A FUTURE LIFE Part Fifth. HISTORICAL AND CRITICAL DISSERTATIONS CONCERNING A FUTURE LIFE. CHAPTER I. DOCTRINE OF A FUTURE LIFE IN THE ANCIENT MYSTERIES CHAPTER II. METEMPSYCHOIS; OR, TRANSMIGRATION OF SOULS CHAPTER III. RESURRECTION OF THE FLESH CHAPTER IV. DOCTRINE OF FUTURE PUNISHMENT; OR, CRITICAL HISTORY OF THE IDEA OF A HELL CHAPTER V. THE FIVE THEORETIC MODES OF SALVATION CHAPTER VI. RECOGNITION OF FRIENDS IN A FUTURE LIFE CHAPTER VII. LOCAL FATE OF MAN IN THE ASTRONOMIC UNIVERSE CHAPTER VIII. CRITICAL HISTORY OF DISBELIEF IN A FUTURE LIFE CHAPTER IX. MORALITY OF THE DOCTRINE OF A FUTURE LIFE Part Sixth. SUPPLEMENTARY CHAPTERS. CHAPTER I. THE END OF THE WORLD CHAPTER II. THE DAY OF JUDGMENT CHAPTER III. THE MYTHOLOGICAL HELL AND THE TRUE ONE; OR, THE LAW OF PERDITION CHAPTER IV. THE GATES OF HEAVEN; OR, THE LAW OF SALVATION IN ALL WORLDS CHAPTER V. RESUME OF THE SUBJECT: HOW THE QUESTION OF IMMORTALITY NOW STANDS CHAPTER VI. THE TRANSIENT AND THE PERMANENT IN THE DESTINY OF THE SOUL PART FIRST. HISTORICAL AND CRITICAL INTRODUCTORY VIEWS. CHAPTER I. THEORIES OF THE SOUL'S ORIGIN. PAUSING, in a thoughtful hour, on that mount of observation whence the whole prospect of life is visible, what a solemn vision greets us! We see the vast procession of existence flitting across the landscape, from the shrouded ocean of birth, over the illuminated continent of experience, to the shrouded ocean of death. Who can linger there and listen, unmoved, to the sublime lament of things that die? Although the great exhibition below endures, yet it is made up of changes, and the spectators shift as often. Each rank of the host, as it advances from the mists of its commencing career, wears a smile caught from the morning light of hope, but, as it draws near to the fatal bourne, takes on a mournful cast from the shadows of the unknown realm. The places we occupy were not vacant before we came, and will not be deserted when we go, but are forever filling and emptying afresh. "Still to every draught of vital breath Renew'd throughout the bounds of earth and ocean, The melancholy gates of death Respond with sympathetic motion." We appear, there is a short flutter of joys and pains, a bright glimmer of smiles and tears, and we are gone. But whence did we come? And whither do we go? Can human thought divine the answer? It adds no little solemnity and pathos to these reflections to remember that every considerate person in the unnumbered successions that have preceded us, has, in his turn, confronted the same facts, engaged in the same inquiry, and been swept from his attempts at a theoretic solution of the problem into the real solution itself, while the constant refrain in the song of existence sounded behind him, "One generation passeth away, and another generation cometh; but the earth abideth forever." The evanescent phenomena, the tragic plot and scenery of human birth, action, and death, conceived on the scale of reality, clothed in "The sober coloring taken from an eye That hath kept watch o'er man's mortality," and viewed in a susceptible spirit, are, indeed, overwhelmingly impressive. They invoke the intellect to its most piercing thoughts. They swell the heart to its utmost capacity of emotion. They bring us upon the bended knees of wonder and prayer. "Between two worlds life hovers, like a star' Twixt night and morn upon the horizon's verge. How little do we know that which we are! How less what we may be! The eternal surge Of time and tide rolls on, and bears afar Our bubbles: as the old burst, new emerge, Lash'd from the foam of ages: while the graves Of empires heave but like some passing waves." Widely regarding the history of human life from the beginning, what a visionary spectacle it is! How miraculously permanent in the whole! how sorrowfully ephemeral in the parts! What pathetic sentiments it awakens! Amidst what awful mysteries it hangs! The subject of the derivation of the soul has been copiously discussed by hundreds of philosophers, physicians, and poets, from Vyasa to Des Cartes, from Galen to Ennemoser, from Orpheus to Henry More, from Aristotle to Frohschammer. German literature during the last hundred years has teemed with works treating of this question from various points of view. The present chapter will present a sketch of these various speculations concerning the commencement and fortunes of man ere his appearance on the stage of this world. The first theory to account for the origin of souls is that of emanation. This is the analogical theory, constructed from the results of sensible observation. There is, it says, one infinite Being, and all finite spirits are portions of his substance, existing a while as separate individuals, and then reassimilated into the general soul. This form of faith, asserting the efflux of all subordinate existence out of one Supreme Being, seems sometimes to rest on an intuitive idea. It is spontaneously suggested whenever man confronts the phenomena of creation with reflective observation, and ponders the eternal round of birth and death. Accordingly, we find traces of this belief all over the world; from the ancient Hindu metaphysics whose fundamental postulate is that the necessary life of God is one constant process of radiation and resorption, "letting out and drawing in," to that modern English poetry which apostrophizes the glad and winsome child as "A silver stream Breaking with laughter from the lake Divine Whence all things flow." The conception that souls are emanations from God is the most obvious way of accounting for the prominent facts that salute our inquiries. It plausibly answers some natural questions, and boldly eludes others. For instance, to the early student demanding the cause of the mysterious distinctions between mind and body, it says, the one belongs to the system of passive matter, the other comes from the living Fashioner of the Universe. Again: this theory relieves us from the burden that perplexes the finite mind when it seeks to understand how the course of nature, the succession of lives, can be absolutely eternal without involving an alternating or circular movement. The doctrine of emanation has, moreover, been supported by the supposed analytic similarity of the soul to God. Its freedom, consciousness, intelligence, love, correspond with what we regard as the attributes and essence of Deity. The inference, however unsound, is immediate, that souls are consubstantial with God, dissevered fragments of Him, sent into bodies. But, in actual effect, the chief recommendation of this view has probably been the variety of analogies and images under which it admits of presentation. The annual developments of vegetable life from the bosom of the earth, drops taken from a fountain and retaining its properties in their removal, the separation of the air into distinct breaths, the soil into individual atoms, the utterance of a tone gradually dying away in reverberated echoes, the radiation of beams from a central light, the exhalation of particles of moisture from the ocean, the evolution of numbers out of an original unity, these are among the illustrations by which an exhaustless ingenuity has supported the notion of the emanation of souls from God. That "something cannot come out of nothing" is an axiom resting on the ground of our rational instincts. And seeing all things within our comprehension held in the chain of causes and effects, one thing always evolving from another, we leap to the conclusion that it is precisely the same with things beyond our comprehension, and that God is the aboriginal reservoir of being from which all the rills of finite existence are emitted. Against this doctrine the current objections are these two. First, the analogies adduced are not applicable. The things of spirit and those of matter have two distinct sets of predicates and categories. It is, for example, wholly illogical to argue that because the circuit of the waters is from the sea, through the clouds, over the land, back to the sea again, therefore the derivation and course of souls from God, through life, back to God, must be similar. There are mysteries in connection with the soul that baffle the most lynx eyed investigation, and on which no known facts of the physical world can throw light. Secondly, the scheme of emanation depends on a vulgar error, belonging to the infancy of philosophic thought, and inconsistent with some necessary truths. It implies that God is separable into parts, and therefore both corporeal and finite. Divisible substance is incompatible with the first predicates of Deity, namely, immateriality and infinity. Before the conception of the illimitable, spiritual unity of God, the doctrine of the emanation of souls from Him fades away, as the mere figment of a dreaming mind brooding over the suggestions of phenomena and apparent correspondences. The second explanation of the origin of souls is that which says they come from a previous existence. This is the theory of imagination, framed in the free and seductive realm of poetic thought. It is evident that this idea does not propose any solution of the absolute origination of the soul, but only offers to account for its appearance on earth. The pre existence of souls has been most widely affirmed. Nearly the whole world of Oriental thinkers have always taught it. Many of the Greek philosophers held it. No small proportion of the early Church Fathers believed it.1 And it is not without able advocates among the scholars and thinkers 1 Keil, Opuscula; Be Pre existentia Animarum. Beausobre, Hist. du Manicheisme, lib. vii. cap. iv. of our own age. There are two principal forms of this doctrine; one asserting an ascent of souls from a previous existence below the rank of man, the other a descent of souls from a higher sphere. Generation is the true Jacob's ladder, on which souls are ever ascending or descending. The former statement is virtually that of the modern theory of development, which argues that the souls known to us, obtaining their first organic being out of the ground life of nature, have climbed up through a graduated series of births, from the merest elementary existence, to the plane of human nature. A gifted author, Dr. Hedge, has said concerning pre existence in these two methods of conceiving it, writing in a half humorous, half serious, vein, "It is to be considered as expressing rather an exceptional than a universal fact. If here and there some pure liver, or noble doer, or prophet voice, suggests the idea of a revenant who, moved with pity for human kind, and charged with celestial ministries, has condescended to 'Soil his pure ambrosial weeds With the rank vapors of this sin worn mould,' or if, on the other hand, the 'superfluity of naughtiness' displayed by some abnormal felon seems to warrant the supposition of a visit from the Pit, the greater portion of mankind, we submit, are much too green for any plausible assumption of a foregone training in good or evil. This planet is not their missionary station, nor their Botany Bay, but their native soil. Or, if we suppose they pre existed at all, we must rather believe they pre existed as brutes, and have travelled into humanity by the fish fowl quadruped road with a good deal of the habitudes and dust of that tramp still sticking to them." The theory of development, deriving human souls by an ascension from the lower stages of rudimentary being, considered as a fanciful hypothesis or speculative toy, is interesting, and not destitute of plausible aspects. But, when investigated as a severe thesis, it is found devoid of proof. It is enough here to say that the most authoritative voices in science reject it, declaring that, though there is a development of progress in the plan of nature, from the more general to the more specific, yet there is no advance from one type or race to another, no hint that the same individual ever crosses the guarded boundaries of genus from one rank and kingdom to another. Whatever progress there may be in the upward process of natural creation or the stages of life, yet to suppose that the life powers of insects and brutes survive the dissolution of their bodies, and, in successive crossings of the death gulf, ascend to humanity, is a bare assumption. It befits the delirious lips of Beddoes, who says, "Had I been born a four legg'd child, methinks I might have found the steps from dog to man And crept into his nature. Are there not Those that fall down out of humanity Into the story where the four legg'd dwell?" The doctrine that souls have descended from an anterior life on high may be exhibited in three forms, each animated by a different motive. The first is the view of some of the Manichean teachers, that spirits were embodied by a hostile violence and cunning, the force and fraud of the apostatized Devil. Adam and Eve were angels sent to observe the doings of Lucifer, the rebel king of matter. He seized these heavenly spies and encased them in fleshly prisons. And then, in order to preserve a permanent union of these celestial natures with matter, he contrived that their race should be propagated by the sexes. Whenever by the procreative act the germ body is prepared, a fiend hies from bale, or an angel stoops from bliss, or a demon darts from his hovering in the air, to inhabit and rule his growing clay house for a term of earthly life. The spasm of impregnation thrills in fatal summons to hell or heaven, and resistlessly drags a spirit into the appointed receptacle. Shakspeare, whose genius seems to have touched every shape of thought with adorning phrase, makes Juliet, distracted with the momentary fancy that Romeo is a murderous villain, cry, "O Nature! what hadst thou to do in hell When thou didst bower the spirit of a fiend In mortal paradise of such sweet flesh?" The second method of explaining the descent of souls into this life is by the supposition that the stable bliss, the uncontrasted peace and sameness, of the heavenly experience, at last wearies the people of Paradise, until they seek relief in a fall. The perfect sweetness of heaven cloys, the utter routine and safety tire, the salient spirits, till they long for the edge and hazard of earthly exposure, and wander down to dwell in fleshly bodies and breast the tempest of sin, strife, and sorrow, so as to give a fresh charm once more to the repose and exempted joys of the celestial realm. In this way, by a series of recurring lives below and above, novelty and change with larger experience and more vivid contentment are secured, the tedium and satiety of fixed happiness and protection are modified by the relishing opposition of varied trials of hardship and pain, the insufferable monotony of immortality broken up and interpolated by epochs of surprise and tingling dangers of probation. "Mortals, behold! the very angels quit Their mansions unsusceptible of change, Amid your dangerous bowers to sit And through your sharp vicissitudes to range!" Thus round and round we run through an eternity of lives and deaths. Surfeited with the unqualified pleasures of heaven, we "straggle down to this terrene nativity:" When, amid the sour exposures and cruel storms of the world, we have renewed our appetite for the divine ambrosia of peace and sweetness, we forsake the body and ascend to heaven; this constant recurrence illustrating the great truths, that alternation is the law of destiny, and that variety is the spice of life. But the most common derivation of the present from a previous life is that which explains the descent as a punishment for sin. In that earlier and loftier state, souls abused their freedom, and were doomed to expiate their offences by a banished, imprisoned, and burdensome life on the earth. "The soul," Plutarch writes, "has removed, not from Athens to Sardis, or from Corinth to Lemnos, but from heaven to earth; and here, ill at ease, and troubled in this new and strange place, she hangs her head like a decaying plant." Hundreds of passages to the same purport might easily be cited from as many ancient writers. Sometimes this fall of souls from their original estate was represented as a simultaneous event: a part of the heavenly army, under an apostate leader, having rebelled, were defeated, and sentenced to a chained bodily life. Our whole race were transported at once from their native shores in the sky to the convict land of this world. Sometimes the descent was attributed to the fresh fault of each individual, and was thought to be constantly happening. A soul tainted with impure desire, drawn downwards by corrupt material gravitation, hovering over the fumes of matter, inhaling the effluvia of vice, grew infected with carnal longings and contagions, became fouled and clogged with gross vapors and steams, and finally fell into a body and pursued the life fitted to it below. A clear human child is a shining seraph from heaven sunk thus low. Men are degraded cherubim. "Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting: The soul that rises with us, our life's star, Hath had elsewhere its setting, And cometh from afar." The theory of the pre existence of the soul merely removes the mystery one stage further back, and there leaves the problem of our origin as hopelessly obscure as before. It is sufficiently refuted by the open fact that it is absolutely destitute of scientific basis. The explanation of its wide prevalence as a belief is furnished by two considerations. First, there were old authoritative sages and poets who loved to speculate and dream, and who published their speculations and dreams to reign over the subject fancies of credulous mankind. Secondly, the conception was intrinsically harmonious, and bore a charm to fascinate the imagination and the heart. The fragmentary visions, broken snatches, mystic strains, incongruous thoughts, fading gleams, with which imperfectrecollection comes laden from our childish years and our nightly dreams, are referred by self pleasing fancy to some earlier and nobler existence. We solve the mysteries of experience by calling them the veiled vestiges of a bright life departed, pathetic waifs drifted to these intellectual shores over the surge of feeling from the wrecked orb of an anterior existence. It gratifies our pride to think the soul "a star travelled stranger," a disguised prince, who has passingly alighted on this globe in his eternal wanderings. The gorgeous glimpses of truth and beauty here vouchsafed to genius, the wondrous strains of feeling that haunt the soul in tender hours, are feeble reminiscences of the prerogatives we enjoyed in those eons when we trod the planets that sail around the upper world of the gods. That ennui or plaintive sadness which in all life's deep and lonesome hours seems native to our hearts, what is it but the nostalgia of the soul remembering and pining after its distant home? Vague and forlorn airs come floating into our consciousness, as from an infinitely remote clime, freighted with a luxury of depressing melancholy. "Ah! not the nectarous poppy lovers use, Not daily labor's dull Lethean spring, Oblivion in lost angels can infuse Of the soil'd glory and the trailing wing." How attractive all this must be to the thoughts of men, how fascinating to their retrospective and aspiring reveries, it should be needless to repeat. How baseless it is as a philosophical theory demanding sober belief, it should be equally superfluous to illustrate further. The third answer to the question concerning the origin of the soul is that it is directly created by the voluntary power of God. This is the theory of faith, instinctively shrinking from the difficulty of the problem on its scientific ground, and evading it by a wholesale reference to Deity. Some writers have held that all souls were created by the Divine fiat at the beginning of the world, and laid up in a secret repository, whence they are drawn as occasion calls. The Talmudists say, "All souls were made during the six days of creation; and therefore generation is not by traduction, but by infusion of a soul into body." Others maintain that this production of souls was not confined to any past period, but is continued still, a new soul being freshly created for every birth. Whenever certain conditions meet, "Then God smites his hands together, And strikes out a soul as a spark, Into the organized glory of things, From the deeps of the dark." This is the view asserted by Vincentius Victor in opposition to the dogmatism of Tertullian on the one hand and to the doubts of Augustine on the other.2 It is called the theory of Insufflation, because it affirms that God immediately breathes a soul into each new being: even as in the case of Adam, of whom we read that "God breathed into his nostrils the breath of life, and he became a living soul." The doctrine drawn from this Mosaic text, that the soul is a divine substance, a breath of God, miraculously breathed by Him into every creature at the commencement of its existence, often reappears, and plays a prominent part in the history of psychological opinions. It corresponds with the beautiful Greek myth of Prometheus, who is fabled to have made a human image from the dust of the ground, and then, by fire stolen from heaven, to have animated it with a living soul. So man, as to his body, is made of earthly clay; but the Promethean spark that forms his soul is the fresh breath of God. There is no objection to the real ground and essence of this theory, only to its form and accompaniments. It is purely anthropomorphitic; it conceives God as working, after the manner of a man, intermittently, arbitrarily. It insulates the origination of souls from the fixed course of nature, severs it from all connection with that common process of organic life which weaves its inscrutable web through the universe, that system of laws which expresses the unchanging will of God, and which constitutes the order by whose solemn logic alone He acts. The objection to this view is, in a word, that it limits the creative action of God to human souls. We suppose that He creates our bodies as well; that He is the immediate Author of all life in the same sense in which He is the immediate Author of our souls. The opponents of the creation theory, who strenuously fought it in the seventeenth century, were accustomed to urge against it the fanciful objection that "it puts God to an invenust 2 Augustine, De Anima et ejus Origine, lib. iv. employment scarce consistent with his verecundious holiness; for, if it be true, whenever the lascivious consent to uncleanness and are pleased to join in unlawful mixture, God is forced to stand a spectator of their vile impurities, stooping from his throne to attend their bestial practices, and raining down showers of souls to animate the emissions of their concupiscence"3 A fourth reply to the inquiry before us is furnished in Tertullian's famous doctrine of Traduction, the essential import of which is that all human souls have been transmitted, or brought over, from the soul of Adam. This is the theological theory: for it arose from an exigency in the dogmatic system generally held by the patristic Church. The universal depravity of human nature, the inherited corruption of the whole race, was a fundamental point of belief. But how reconcile this proposition with the conception, entertained by many, that each new born soul is a fresh creation from the "substance," "spirit," or "breath" of God? Augustine writes to Jerome, asking him to solve this question.4 Tertullian, whose fervid mind was thoroughly imbued with materialistic notions, unhesitatingly cut this Gordian knot by asserting that our first parent bore within him the undeveloped germ of all mankind, so that sinfulness and souls were propagated together. 5 Thus the perplexing query, "how souls are held in the chain of original sin," was answered. As Neander says, illustrating Tertullian's view, "The soul of the first man was the fountain head of all human souls: all the varieties of individual human nature are but modifications of that one spiritual substance." In the light of such a thought, we can see how Nature might, when solitary Adam lived, fulfil Lear's wild conjuration, and "All the germens spill At once that make ingrateful man." In the seventh chapter of the Koran it is written, "The Lord drew forth their posterity from the loins of the sons of Adam." The commentators say that God passed his hand down Adam's back, and extracted all the generations which should come into the world until the resurrection. Assembled in the presence of the angels, and endued with understanding, they confessed their dependence on God, and were then caused to return into the loins of their great ancestor. This is one of the most curious doctrines within the whole range of philosophical history. It implies the strict corporeality of the soul; and yet how infinitely fine must be its attenuation when it has been diffused into countless thousands of millions! Der Urkeim theilt sich ins Unendliche. "What! will the line stretch out to the crack of doom?" The whole thought is absurd. It was not reached by an induction of facts, a study of phenomena, or any fair process of reasoning, but was arbitrarily created to rescue a dogma from otherwise inevitable rejection. It was the desperate clutch of a heady theologian reeling in a vortex of hostile argument, and ready to seize any fancy, however artificial, to save 3 Edward Warren, No Pre Existence, p. 74. 4 Epistola CLXVI. 5 De Anima, cap. x. et xix. himself from falling under the ruins of his system. Henry Woolner published in London, in 1655, a book called "Extraction of Soul: a sober and judicious inquiry to prove that souls are propagated; because, if they are created, original sin is impossible." The theological dogma of traduction has been presented in two forms. First, it is declared that all souls are developed out of the one substance of Adam's soul; a view that logically implies an ultimate attenuating diffusion, ridiculously absurd. Secondly, it is held that "the eating of the forbidden fruit corrupted all the vital fluids of Eve; and this corruption carried vicious and chaotic consequences into her ova, in which lay the souls of all her posterity, with infinitely little bodies, already existing."6 This form is as incredible as the other; for it equally implies a limitless distribution of souls from a limited deposit. As Whewell says, "This successive inclusion of germs (Einschachtelungs Theorie) implies that each soul contains an infinite number of germs."7 It necessarily excludes the formation of new spiritual substance: else original transmitted sin is excluded. The doctrine finds no parallelism anywhere else in nature. Who, no matter how wedded to the theology of original sin and transmitted death, would venture to stretch the same thesis over the animal races, and affirm that the dynamic principles, or animating souls, of all serpents, eagles, and lions, were once compressed in the first patriarchal serpent, eagle, or lion? That the whole formative power of all the simultaneous members of our race was concentrated in the first cell germ of our original progenitor, is a scientific impossibility and incredibleness. The fatal sophistry in the traducian account of the transmission of souls may be illustrated in the following manner. The germs of all the apple trees now in existence did not lie in the first apple seed. All the apple trees now existing were not derived by literal development out of the actual contents of the first apple seed. No: but the truth is this. There was a power in the first apple seed to secure certain conditions; that is, to organize a certain status in which the plastic vegetative life of nature would posit new and similar powers and materials. So not all souls were latent in Adam's, but only an organizing power to secure the conditions on which the Divine Will that first began, would, in accordance with His creative plan, forever continue, His spirit creation. The distinction of this statement from that of traduction is the difference between evolution from one original germ or stock and actual production of new beings. Its distinction from the third theory the theory of immediate creation is the difference between an intermittent interposition of arbitrary acts and the continuous working of a plan according to laws scientifically traceable. There is another solution to the question of the soul's origin, which has been propounded by some philosophers and may be called the speculative theory. Its statement is that the germs of souls were created simultaneously with the formation of the material universe, and were copiously sown abroad through all nature, waiting there to be successively taken up and furnished with the conditions of development.8 These latent seeds of souls, swarming in all places, are drawn in with the first breath or imbibed with the earliest nourishment of the 6 Hennings, Geschichte von den Seelen der Menschen, s. 500. 7 Philosophy of the Inductive Sciences, vol. I. b. ix. ch. iv. sect. 4. 8 Ploucquet, De Origin atque Generatione Anima Humana ex Principiis Monadologicis stabilita. new born child into the already constructed body which before has only a vegetative life. The Germans call this representation panspermismus, or the dissemination theory. Leibnitz, in his celebrated monadology, carries the same view a great deal further. He conceives the whole created universe, visible and invisible, to consist of monads, which are not particles of matter, but metaphysical points of power. These monads are all souls. They are produced by what he calls fulgurations of God. The distinction between fulguration and emanation is this: in the latter case the procession is historically defined and complete; in the former case it is momentaneous. The monads are radiated from the Divine Will, forth through the creation, by the constant flashes of His volition. All nature is composed of them, and nothing is depopulated and dead. Their naked being is force, and their indestructible predicates are perception, desire, tendency to develop. While they lie dormant, their potential capacities all inwrapped, they constitute what we entitle matter. When, by the rising stir of their inherent longing, they leave their passive state and reach a condition of obscure consciousness, they become animals. Finally, they so far unwind their bonds and evolve their facultative potencies as to attain the rank of rational minds in the grade of humanity. Generation is merely the method by which the aspiring monad lays the organic basis for the grouped building of its body. Man is a living union of monads, one regent monad presiding over the whole organization. That king monad which has attained to full apperception, the free exercise of perfect consciousness, is the immortal human soul. 9 Any labored attempt to refute this ingenious doctrine is needless, since the doctrine itself is but the developed structure of a speculative conception with no valid basis of observed fact. It is a sheer hypothesis, spun out of the self fed bowels of a priori assumption and metaphysic fancy. It solves the problems only by changes of their form, leaving the mysteries as numerous and deep as before. It is a beautiful and sublime piece of latent poetry, the evolution and architecture of which well display the wonderful genius of Leibnitz. It is a more subtle and powerful process of thought than Aristotle's Organon, a more pure and daring work of imagination than Milton's Paradise Lost. But it spurns the tests of experimental science, and is entitled to rank only among the splendid curiosities of philosophy; a brilliant and plausible theorem, not a sober and solid induction. One more method of treating the inquiry before us will complete the list. It is what we may properly call the scientific theory, though in truth it is hardly a theory at all, but rather a careful statement of the observed facts, and a modest confession of inability to explain the cause of them. Those occupying this position, when asked what is the origin of souls, do not pretend to unveil the final secret, but simply say, everywhere in the world of life, from bottom to top, there is an organic growth in accordance with conditions. This is what is styled the theory of epigenesis, and is adopted by the chief physiologists of the present day. Swammerdam, Malebranche, even Cuvier, had defended the doctrine of successive inclusion; but Wolf, Blumenbach, and Von Baer established in its place the doctrine of epigenesis. 10 9 Leibnitz, Monadologie. 10 Ennemoser, Historisch psychologische Untersuchungen tiber den Ursprung der menschlichen Seelen, zweite Auflage. Scrupulously confining themselves to the mass of collected facts and the course of scrutinized phenomena, they say there is a natural production of new living beings in conformity to certain laws, and give an exposition of the fixed conditions and sequences of this production. Here they humbly stop, acknowledging that the causal root of power, which produces all these consequences, is an inexplicable mystery. Their attitude is well represented by Swedenborg when he says, in reference to this very subject, "Any one may form guesses; but let no son of earth pretend to penetrate the mysteries of creation." 11 Let us notice now the facts submitted to us. First, at the base of the various departments of nature, we see a mass of apparently lifeless matter. Out of this crude substratum of the outward world we observe a vast variety of organized forms produced by a variously named but unknown Power. They spring in regular methods, in determinate shapes, exist on successive stages of rank, with more or less striking demarcations of endowment, and finally fall back again, as to their physical constituents, into the inorganic stuff from which they grew. This mysterious organizing Power, pushing its animate and builded receptacles up to the level of vegetation, creates the world of plants. "Every clod feels a stir of might, An instinct within it that reaches and towers, And, grasping blindly above it for light, Climbs to a soul in grass and flowers." On the level of sensation, where the obscure rudiments of will, understanding, and sentiment commence, this life giving Power creates the world of animals. And so, on the still higher level of reason and its concomitants, it creates the world of men. In a word, the great general fact is that an unknown Power call it what we may, Nature, Vital Force, or God creates, on the various planes of its exercise, different families of organized beings. Secondly, a more special fact is, that when we have overleaped the mystery of a commencement, every being yields seed according to its kind, wherefrom, when properly conditioned, its species is perpetuated. How much, now, does this second fact imply? It is by adding to the observed phenomena an indefensible hypothesis that the error of traduction is obtained. We observe that human beings are begotten by a deposit of germs through the generative process. To affirm that these germs are transmitted down the generations from the original progenitor of each race, in whom they all existed at first, is an unwarranted assertion and involves absurdities. It is refuted both by Geoffrey St. Hilaire's famous experiments on eggs, and by the crossing of species.12 In opposition to this theological figment, observation and science require the belief that each being is endowed independently with a germ forming power. Organic life requires three things: a fruitful germ; a quickening impulse; a nourishing medium. Science plainly shows us that this primal nucleus is given, in the human species, by the union of the contents of a sperm cell with those of a germ cell; that this dynamic start is imparted from the life force of the parents; and that this feeding environment is 11 Tract on the Origin and Propagation of the Soul, chap. i. 12 Flourens, Amount of Life on the Globe, part ii. ch. iii. sect. ii. furnished by the circle of co ordinated relations. That the formative power of the new organism comes from, or at least is wholly conditioned by, the parent organism, should be believed, because it is the obvious conclusion, against which there is nothing to militate. That the soul of the child comes in some way from the soul of the parent, or is stamped by it, is also implied by the normal resemblance of children to parents, not more in bodily form than in spiritual idiosyncrasies. This fact alone furnishes the proper qualification to the acute and significant lines of the Platonizing poet: "Wherefore who thinks from souls new souls to bring, The same let presse the sunne beames in his fist And squeeze out drops of light, or strongly wring The rainbow till it die his hands, well prest." "That which is born of the flesh is flesh: that which is born of the spirit is spirit." As the body of the child is the derivative of a germ elaborated in the body of the parent, so the soul of the child is the derivative of a developing impulse of power imparted from the soul of the parent. And as the body is sustained by absorbing nutrition from matter, so the soul is sustained by assimilating the spiritual substances of the invisible kingdom. The most ethereal elements must combine to nourish that consummate plant whose blossom is man's mind. This representation is not materialism; for spirit belongs to a different sphere and is the subject of different predicates from matter, though equally under a constitution of laws. Nor does this view pretend to explain what is inherently transcendent: it leaves the creation of the soul within as wide a depth and margin of mystery as ever. Neither is this mode of exposing the problem atheistic. It refers the forms of life, all growths, all souls, to the indefinable Power that works everywhere, creates each thing, vivifies, governs, and contains the universe. And, however that Power be named, is it not God? And thus we still reverently hold that it is God's own hands "That reach through nature, moulding men." The ancient heroes of Greece and India were fond of tracing their genealogy up directly to their deities, and were proud to deem that in guarding them the gods stooped to watch over a race of kings, a puissant and immortal stock, "Whose glories stream'd from the same clond girt founts Whence their own dawn'd upon the infant world." After all the researches that have been made, we yet find the secret of the beginning of the soul shrouded among the fathomless mysteries of the Almighty Creator, and must ascribe our birth to the Will of God as piously as it was done in the eldest mythical epochs of the world. Notwithstanding the careless frivolity of skepticism and the garish light of science abroad in this modern time, there are still stricken and yearning depths of wonder and sorrow enough, profound and awful shadows of night and fear enough, to make us recognise, in the golden joys that visit us rarely, in the illimitable visions that emancipate us often, in the unearthly thoughts and dreams that ravish our minds, enigmatical intimations of our kinship with God, prophecies of a super earthly destiny whose splendors already break through the clouds of ignorance, the folds of flesh, and the curtains of time in which our spirits here sit pavilioned. Augustine pointedly observes, "It is no evil that the origin of the soul remains obscure, if only its redemption be made certain."13 Non est periculum si origo animoe lateat, dum redemptio clareat. No matter how humanity originates, if its object be to produce fruit, and that fruit be immortal souls. When our organism has perfected its intended product, willingly will we let the decaying body return into the ground, if so be we are assured that the ripened spirit is borne into the heavenly garner. Let us, in close, reduce the problem of the soul's origin to its last terms. The amount of force in the universe is uniform.14 Action and reaction being equal, no new creation of force is possible: only its directions, deposits, and receptacles may be altered. No combination of physical processes can produce a previously non existent subject: it can only initiate the modification, development, assimilation, of realities already in being. Something cannot come out of nothing. The quickening formation of a man, therefore, implies the existence, first, of a material germ, the basis of the body; secondly, of a power to impart to that germ a dynamic impulse, in other words, to deposit in it a spirit atom, or monad of life force. Now, the fresh body is originally a detached product of the parent body, as an apple is the detached product of a tree. So the fresh soul is a transmitted force imparted by the parent soul, either directly from itself, or else conditioned by it and drawn from the ground life of nature, the creative power of God. If filial soul be begotten by procession and severance of conscious force from parental soul, the spiritual resemblance of offspring and progenitors is clearly explained. This phenomenon is also equally well explained if the parent soul, so called, be a die striking the creative substance of the universe into individual form. The latter supposition seems, upon the whole, the more plausible and scientific. Generation is a reflex condition moving the life basis of the world to produce a soul, as a physical impression moves the soul to produce a perception.15 But, however deep the mystery of the soul's origin, whatever our conclusion in regard to it, let us not forget that the inmost essence and verity of the soul is conscious power; and that all power defies annihilation. It is an old declaration that what begins in time must end in time; and with the metaphysical shears of that notion more than once the burning faith in eternal life has been snuffed out. Yet how obvious is its sophistry! A being beginning in time need not cease in time, if the Power which originated it intends and provides for its perpetuity. And that such is the Creative intention for man appears from the fact that the grand forms of belief in all ages issuing from his mental organization have borne the stamp of an expected immortality. Our ideas may disappear, but they are always recoverable. If the souls of men are ideas of God, must they not be as enduring as his mind? 13 Epist. CLVI. 14 Faraday, Conservation of Force, Phil. Mag., April, 1857. 15 Dr. Frohschammer, Ursprang der menechlichen Seelen, sect. 115. The naturalist who so immerses his thoughts in the physical phases of nature as to lose hold on indestructible centres of personality, should beware lest he lose the motive which propels man to begin here, by virtue and culture, to climb that ladder of life whose endless sides are affections, but whose discrete rounds are thoughts. CHAPTER II. HISTORY OF DEATH. DEATH is not an entity, but an event; not a force, but a state. Life is the positive experience, death the negation. Yet in nearly every literature death has been personified, while no kindred prosopopoeia of life is anywhere to be found. With the Greeks, Thanatos was a god; with the Romans, Mors was a goddess: but no statue was ever moulded, no altar ever raised, to Zoe or Vita. At first thought, we should anticipate the reverse of this; but, in truth, the fact is quite naturally as it is. Life is a continuous process; and any one who makes the effort will find how difficult it is to conceive of it as an individual being, with distinctive attributes, functions, and will. It is an inward possession which we familiarly experience, and in the quiet routine of custom we feel no shock of surprise at it, no impulse to give it imaginative shape and ornament. On the contrary, death is an impending occurrence, something which we anticipate and shudder at, something advancing toward us in time to strike or seize us. Its externality to our living experience, its threatening approach, the mystery and alarm enwrapping it, are provocative conditions for fanciful treatment, making personifications inevitable. With the Old Aryan race of India, death is Yama, the soul of the first man, departed to be the king of the subterranean realm of the subsequent dead, and returning to call after him each of his descendants in turn. To the good he is mild and lovely, but to the impious he is clad in terror and acts with severity. The purely fanciful character of this thought is obvious; for, according to it, death was before death, since Yama himself died. Yama does not really represent death, but its arbiter and messenger. He is the ruler over the dead, who himself carries the summons to each mortal to become his subject. In the Hebrew conception, death was a majestic angel, named Sammael, standing in the court of heaven, and flying thence over the earth, armed with a sword, to obey the behests of God. The Talmudists developed and dressed up the thought with many details, half sublime, half fantastic. He strides through the world at a step. From the soles of his feet to his shoulders he is full of eyes. Every person in the moment of dying sees him; and at the sight the soul retreats, running through all the limbs, as if asking permission to depart from them. From his naked sword fall three drops: one pales the countenance, one destroys the vitality, one causes the body to decay. Some Rabbins say he bears a cup from which the dying one drinks, or that he lets fall from the point of his sword a single acrid drop upon the sufferer's tongue: this is what is called "tasting the bitterness of death." Here again, we see, it is not strictly death that is personified. The embodiment is not of the mortal act, but of the decree determining that act. The Jewish angel of death is not a picture of death in itself, but of God's decree coming to the fated individual who is to die. The Greeks sometimes depicted death and sleep as twin boys, one black, one white, borne slumbering in the arms of their mother, night. In this instance the phenomenon of dissolving unconsciousness which falls on mortals, abstractly generalized in the mind, is then concretely symbolized. It is a bold and happy stroke of artistic genius; but it in no way expresses or suggests the scientific facts of actual death. There is also a classic representation of death as a winged boy with a pensive brow and an inverted torch, a butterfly at his feet. This beautiful image, with its affecting accompaniments, conveys to the beholder not the verity, nor an interpretation, of death, but the sentiments of the survivors in view of their bereavement. The sad brow denotes the grief of the mourner, the winged insect the disembodied psyche, the reversed torch the descent of the soul to the under world; but the reality of death itself is nowhere hinted. The Romans give descriptions of death as a female figure in dark robes, with black wings, with ravenous teeth, hovering everywhere, darting here and there, eager for prey. Such a view is a personification of the mysteriousness, suddenness, inevitableness, and fearfulness, connected with the subject of death in men's minds, rather than of death itself. These thoughts are grouped into an imaginary being, whose sum of attributes are then ignorantly both associated with the idea of the unknown cause and confounded with the visible effect. It is, in a word, mere poetry, inspired by fear and unguided by philosophy. Death has been shown in the guise of a fowler spreading his net, setting his snares for men. But this image concerns itself with the accidents of the subject, the unexpectedness of the fatal blow, the treacherous springing of the trap, leaving the root of the matter untouched. The circumstances of the mortal hour are infinitely varied, the heart of the experience is unchangeably the same: there are a thousand modes of dying, but there is only one death. Ever so complete an exhibition of the occasions and accompaniments of an event is no explanation of what the inmost reality of the event is. The Norse conception of death as a vast, cloudy presence, darkly sweeping on its victims, and bearing them away wrapped in its sable folds, is evidently a free product of imagination brooding not so much on the distinct phenomena of an individual case as on the melancholy mystery of the disappearance of men from the familiar places that knew them once but miss them now. In a somewhat kindred manner, the startling magnificence of the sketch in the Apocalypse, of death on the pale horse, is a product of pure imagination meditating on the wholesale slaughter which was to deluge the earth when God's avenging judgments fell upon the enemies of the Christians. But to consider this murderous warrior on his white charger as literally death, would be as erroneous as to imagine the bare armed executioner and the guillotine to be themselves the death which they inflict. No more appalling picture of death has been drawn than that by Milton, whose dire image has this stroke of truth in it, that its adumbrate formlessness typifies the disorganizing force which reduces all cunningly built bodies of life to the elemental wastes of being. The incestuous and mistreated progeny of Sin is thus delineated: "The shape, If shape it might be call'd that shape had none Distinguishable in member, joint, or limb, Or substance might be call'd that shadow seem'd, For each seem'd either, black it stood as night, Fierce as ten furies, terrible as hell, And shook a dreadful dart: what seem'd his head The likeness of a kingly crown had on." But the most common personification of death is as a skeleton brandishing a dart; and then he is called the grisly king of terrors; and people tremble at the thought of him, as children do at the name of a bugbear in the dark. What sophistry this is! It is as if we should identify the trophy with the conqueror, the vestiges left in the track of a traveller with the traveller himself. Death literally makes a skeleton of man; so man metaphorically makes a skeleton of Death! All these representations of death, however beautiful, or pathetic, or horrible, are based on superficial appearances, misleading analogies, arbitrary fancies, perturbed sensibilities, not on a firm hold of realities, insight of truth, and philosophical analysis. They are all to be brushed aside as phantoms of nightmare or artificial creations of fiction. Poetry has mostly rested, hitherto, on no veritable foundation of science, but on a visionary foundation of emotion. It has wrought upon flitting, sensible phenomena rather than upon abiding substrata of facts. For example, a tender Greek bard personified the life of a tree as a Hamadryad, the moving trunk and limbs her undulating form and beckoning arms, the drooping boughs her hair, the rustling foliage her voice. A modern poet, endowed with the same strength of sympathy, but acquainted with vegetable chemistry, might personify sap as a pale, liquid maiden, ascending through the roots and veins to meet air, a blue boy robed in golden warmth, descending through the leaves, with a whisper, to her embrace. So the personifications of death in literature, thus far, give us no penetrative glance into what it really is, help us to no acute definition of it, but poetically fasten on some feature, or accident, or emotion, associated with it. There are in popular usage various metaphors to express what is meant by death. The principal ones are, extinction of the vital spark, departing, expiring, cutting the thread of life, giving up the ghost, falling asleep. These figurative modes of speech spring from extremely imperfect correspondences. Indeed, the unlikenesses are more important and more numerous than the likenesses. They are simply artifices to indicate what is so deeply obscure and intangible. They do not lay the secret bare, nor furnish us any aid in reaching to the true essence of the question. Moreover, several of them, when sharply examined, involve a fatal error. For example, upon the admitted supposition that in every case of dying the soul departs from the body, still, this separation of the soul from the body is not what constitutes death. Death is the state of the body when the soul has left it. An act is distinct from its effects. We must, therefore, turn from the literary inquiry to the metaphysical and scientific method, to gain any satisfactory idea and definition of death. A German writer of extraordinary acumen and audacity has said, "Only before death, but not in death, is death death. Death is so unreal a being that he only is when he is not, and is not when he is."1 This paradoxical and puzzling as it may appear is susceptible of quite lucid interpretation and defence. For death is, in its naked significance, the state of not being. Of course, then, it has no existence save in the conceptions of the living. We compare a dead 1 Feuerbach, Gedanken uber Tod and Unsterblichkeit, sect. 84. person with what he was when living, and instinctively personify the difference as death. Death, strictly analyzed, is only this abstract conceit or metaphysical nonentity. Death, therefore, being but a conception in the mind of a living person, when that person dies death ceases to be at all. And thus the realization of death is the death of death. He annihilates himself, dying with the dart he drives. Having in this manner disposed of the personality or entity of death, it remains as an effect, an event, a state. Accordingly, the question next arises, What is death when considered in this its true aspect? A positive must be understood before its related negative can be intelligible. Bichat defined life as the sum of functions by which death is resisted. It is an identical proposition in verbal disguise, with the fault that it makes negation affirmation, passiveness action. Death is not a dynamic agency warring against life, but simply an occurrence. Life is the operation of an organizing force producing an organic form according to an ideal type, and persistently preserving that form amidst the incessant molecular activity and change of its constituent substance. That operation of the organic force which thus constitutes life is a continuous process of waste, casting off the old exhausted matter, and of replacement by assimilation of new material. The close of this process of organific metamorphosis and desquamation is death, whose finality is utter decomposition, restoring all the bodily elements to the original inorganic conditions from which they were taken. The organic force with which life begins constrains chemical affinity to work in special modes for the formation of special products: when it is spent or disappears, chemical affinity is at liberty to work in its general modes; and that is death. "Life is the co ordination of actions; the imperfection of the co ordination is disease, its arrest is death." In other words, "life is the continuous adjustment of relations in an organism with relations in its environment." Disturb that adjustment, and you have malady; destroy it, and you have death. Life is the performance of functions by an organism; death is the abandonment of an organism to the forces of the universe. No function can be performed without a waste of the tissue through which it is performed: that waste is repaired by the assimilation of fresh nutriment. In the balancing of these two actions life consists. The loss of their equipoise soon terminates them both; and that is death. Upon the whole, then, scientifically speaking, to cause death is to stop "that continuous differentiation and integration of tissues and of states of consciousness" constituting life. 2 Death, therefore, is no monster, no force, but the act of completion, the state of cessation; and all the bugbears named death are but poor phantoms of the frightened and childish mind. Life consisting in the constant differentiation of the tissues by the action of oxygen, and their integration from the blastema furnished by the blood, why is not the harmony of these processes preserved forever? Why should the relation between the integration and disintegration going on in the human organism ever fall out of correspondence with the relation between the oxygen and food supplied from its environment? That is to say, whence originated the sentence of death upon man? Why do we not live immortally as we are? The current reply is, we die because our first parent sinned. Death is a penalty inflicted upon the 2 Spencer, Principles of Psychology, pp. 334-373. human race because Adam disobeyed his Maker's command. We must consider this theory a little. The narrative in Genesis, of the creation of man and of the events in the Garden of Eden, cannot be traced further back than to the time of Solomon, three thousand years after the alleged occurrences it describes. This portion of the book of Genesis, as has long been shown, is a distinct document, marked by many peculiarities, which was inserted in its present place by the compiler of the elder Hebrew Scriptures somewhere between seven and ten centuries before Christ.3 Ewald has fully demonstrated that the book of Genesis consists of many separate fragmentary documents of different ages, arranged together by a comparatively late hand. Among the later of these pieces is the account of the primeval pair in paradise. Grotefend argues, with much force and variety of evidence, that this story was derived from a far more ancient legend book, only fragments of which remained when the final collection was made of this portion of the Old Testament.4 Many scholars have thought the account was not of Hebrew origin, but was borrowed from the literary traditions of some earlier Oriental nation. Rosenmuller, Von Bohlen, and others, say it bears unmistakable relationship to the Zendavesta which tells how Ahriman, the old Serpent, beguiled the first pair into sin and misery. These correspondences, and also that between the tree of life and the Zoroastrian plant hom, which gives life and will produce the resurrection, are certainly striking. Buttmann sees in God's declaration to Adam, "Behold, I have given you for food every herb bearing seed, and every tree in which is fruit bearing seed," traces of a prohibition of animal food. This was not the vestige of a Hebrew usage, but the vegetarian tradition of some sect eschewing meat, a tradition drawn from South Asia, whence the fathers of the Hebrew race came.5 Gesenius says, "Many things in this narrative were drawn from older Asiatic tradition." 6 Knobel also affirms that numerous matters in this relation were derived from traditions of East Asian nations.7 Still, it is not necessary to suppose that the writer of the account in Genesis borrowed any thing from abroad. The Hebrew may as well have originated such ideas as anybody else. The Egyptians, the Phoenicians, the Chaldeans, the Persians, the Etruscans, have kindred narratives held as most ancient and sacred.8 The Chinese, the Sandwich Islanders, the North American Indians, also have their legends of the origin and altered fortunes of the human race. The resemblances between many of these stories are better accounted for by the intrinsic similarities of the subject, of the mind, of nature, and of mental action, than by the supposition of derivation from one another. Regarding the Hebrew narrative as an indigenous growth, then, how shall we explain its origin, purport, and authority? Of course we cannot receive it as a miraculous revelation conveying infallible truth. The Bible, it is now acknowledged, was not given in the providence 3 Tuch, Kommentar uber Genesis, s. xcviii. 4 Zur altesten Sagenpoesie des Orients. Zeitschrift der deutschen Morgenlandischen Gesellschaft, band viii. ss. 772-779. 5 Mythologus, (Schopfung and Sundenfall, ) band i. s. 137. 6 Article "Adam," in Encyclopadia by Ersch and Gruber. 7 Die Genesis erklart, s. 28. 8 Palfrey's Academical Lectures, vol. ii. pp. 21-28. of God to teach astronomy, geology, chronology, and the operation of organic forces, but to help educate men in morality and piety. It is a religious, not a scientific, work. Some unknown Hebrew poet, in the early dawn of remembered time, knowing little metaphysics and less science, musing upon the fortunes of man, his wickedness, sorrow, death, and impressed with an instinctive conviction that things could not always have been so, casting about for some solution of the dim, pathetic problem, at last struck out the beautiful and sublime poem recorded in Genesis, which has now for many a century, by Jews, Christians, Mohammedans, been credited as authentic history. With his own hands God moulds from earth an image in his own likeness, breathes life into it, and new made man moves, lord of the scene, and lifts his face, illuminated with soul, in submissive love to his Creator. Endowed with free will, after a while he violated his Maker's command: the divine displeasure was awakened, punishment ensued, and so rushed in the terrible host of ills under which we suffer. The problem must early arise: the solution is, to a certain stage of thought, at once the most obvious and the most satisfactory conceivable. It is the truth. Only it is cast in imaginative, not scientific, form, arrayed in emblematic, not literal, garb. The Greeks had a lofty poem by some early unknown author, setting forth how Prometheus formed man of clay and animated him with fire from heaven, and how from Pandora's box the horrid crew of human vexations were let into the world. The two narratives, though most unequal in depth and dignity, belong in the same literary and philosophical category. Neither was intended as a plain record of veritable history, each word a naked fact, but as a symbol of its author's thoughts, each phrase the metaphorical dress of a speculative idea. Eichhorn maintains, with no slight plausibility, that the whole account of the Garden of Eden was derived from a series of allegorical pictures which the author had seen, and which he translated from the language of painting into the language of words. At all events, we must take the account as symbolic, a succession of figurative expressions. Many of the best minds have always so considered it, from Josephus to Origen, from Ambrose to Kant. What, then, are the real thoughts which the author of this Hebrew poem on the primal condition of man meant to convey beneath his legendary forms of imagery? These four are the essential ones. First, that God created man; secondly, that he created him in a state of freedom and happiness surrounded by blessings; third, that the favored subject violated his Sovereign's order; fourth, that in consequence of this offence he was degraded from his blessed condition, beneath a load of retributive ills. The composition shows the characteristics of a philosopheme or a myth, a scheme of conceptions deliberately wrought out to answer an inquiry, a story devised to account for an existing fact or custom. The picture of God performing his creative work in six days and resting on the seventh, may have been drawn after the septenary division of time and the religious separation of the Sabbath, to explain and justify that observance. The creation of Eve out of the side of Adam was either meant by the author as an allegoric illustration that the love of husband and wife is the most powerful of social bonds, or as a pure myth seeking to explain the incomparable cleaving together of husband and wife by the entirely poetic supposition that the first woman was taken out of the first man, bone of his bone, flesh of his flesh. All early literatures teem with exemplifications of this process, a spontaneous secretion by the imagination to account for some presented phenomenon. Or perhaps this part of the relation "and he called her woman [manness], because she was taken out of man" may be an instance of those etymological myths with which ancient literature abounds. Woman is named Isha because she was taken out of man, whose name is Ish. The barbarous treatment the record under consideration has received, the utter baselessness of it in the light of truth as foundation for literal belief, find perhaps no fitter exposure than in the fact that for many centuries it was the prevalent faith of Christendom that every woman has one rib more than man, a permanent memorial of the Divine theft from his side. Unquestionably, there are many good persons now who, if Richard Owen should tell them that man has the same number of ribs as woman, would think of the second chapter of Genesis and doubt his word! There is no reason for supposing the serpent in this recital to be intended as a representative of Satan. The earliest trace of such an interpretation is in the Wisdom of Solomon, an anonymous and apocryphal book composed probably a thousand years later. What is said of the snake is the most plainly mythical of all the portions. What caused the snake to crawl on his belly in the dust, while other creatures walk on feet or fly with wings? Why, the sly, winding creature, more subtle, more detestable, than any beast of the field, deceived the first woman; and this is his punishment! Such was probably the mental process in the writer. To seek a profound and true theological dogma in such a statement is as absurd as to seek it in the classic myth that the lapwing with his sharp beak chases the swallow because he is the descendant of the enraged Tereus who pursued poor Progne with a drawn sword. Or, to cite a more apposite case, as well might we seek a reliable historical narrative in the following Greek myth. Zeus once gave man a remedy against old age. He put it on the back of an ass and followed on foot. It being a hot day, the ass grew thirsty, and would drink at a fount which a snake guarded. The cunning snake knew what precious burden the ass bore, and would not, except at the price of it, let him drink. He obtained the prize; but with it, as a punishment for his trick, he incessantly suffers the ass's thirst. Thus the snake, casting his skin, annually renews his youth, while man is borne down by old age.9 In all these cases the mental action is of the same kind in motive, method, and result. The author of the poem contained in the third chapter of Genesis does not say that man was made immortal. The implication plainly is that he was created mortal, taken from the dust and naturally to return again to the dust. But by the power of God a tree was provided whose fruit would immortalize its partakers. The penalty of Adam's sin was directly, not physical death, but being forced in the sweat of his brow to wring his subsistence from the sterile ground cursed for his sake; it was indirectly literal death, in that he was prevented from eating the fruit of the tree of life. "God sent him out of the garden, lest he eat and live forever." He was therefore, according to the narrative, made originally subject to death; but an immortalizing antidote was prepared for him, which he forfeited by his transgression. That the writer made use of the trees of life and knowledge as embellishing allegories is most 9 Alian, no Nat. Animal., lib. vi. cap. 51. probable. But, if not, he was not the only devout poet who, in the early times, with sacred reverence believed the wonders the inspiring muse gave him as from God. It is not clear from the Biblical record that Adam was imagined the first man. On the contrary, the statement that Cain was afraid that those who met him would kill him, also that he went to the land of Nod and took a wife and builded a city, implies that there was another and older race. Father Peyrere wrote a book, called "Praadamita," more than two hundred years ago, pointing out this fact and arguing that there really were men before Adam. If science should thoroughly establish the truth of this view, religion need not suffer; but the common theology, inextricably built upon and intertangled with the dogma of "original sin," would be hopelessly ruined. But the leaders in the scientific world will not on that account shut their eyes nor refuse to reason. Christians should follow their example of truth seeking, with a deeper faith in God, fearless of results, but resolved upon reaching reality. It is a very singular and important fact that, from the appearance in Genesis of the account of the creation and sin and punishment of the first pair, not the faintest explicit allusion to it is subsequently found anywhere in literature until about the time of Christ. Had it been all along credited in its literal sense, as a divine revelation, could this be so? Philo Judaus gives it a thoroughly figurative meaning. He says, "Adam was created mortal in body, immortal in mind. Paradise is the soul, piety the tree of life, discriminative wisdom the tree of knowledge; the serpent is pleasure, the flaming sword turning every way is the sun revolving round the world."10 Jesus himself never once alludes to Adam or to any part of the story of Eden. In the whole New Testament there are but two important references to the tradition, both of which are by Paul. He says, in effect, "As through the sin of Adam all are condemned unto death, so by the righteousness of Christ all shall be justified unto life." It is not a guarded doctrinal statement, but an unstudied, rhetorical illustration of the affiliation of the sinful and unhappy generations of the past with their offending progenitor, Adam, of the believing and blessed family of the chosen with their redeeming head, Christ. He does not use the word death in the Epistle to the Romans prevailingly in the narrow sense of physical dissolution, but in a broad, spiritual sense, as appears, for example, in these instances: "To be carnally minded is death;" "The law of the spirit of life in Christ hath made me free from the law of sin and death." For the spiritually minded were not exempt from bodily death. Paul himself died the bodily death. His idea of the relations of Adam and Christ to humanity is more clearly expressed in the other passage already alluded to. It is in the Epistle to the Corinthians, and appears to be this. The first man, Adam, was of the earth, earthy, the head and representative of a corruptible race whose flesh and blood were never meant to inherit the kingdom of God. The second man, Christ the Lord, soon to return from heaven, was a quickening spirit, head and representative of a risen spiritual race for whom is prepared the eternal inheritance of the saints in light. As by the first man came death, whose germ is transmitted with the flesh, so by the second man comes the resurrection of the dead, whose type is seen in his glorified ascension from Hades to heaven. "As in Adam all die, even so in 10 De Mundi Opificio, liv lvi. De Cherub. viii. Christ shall all be made alive." Upon all the line of Adam sin has entailed, what otherwise would not have been known, moral death and a disembodied descent to the under world. But the gospel of Christ, and his resurrection as the first fruits of them that slept, proclaim to all those that are his, at his speedy coming, a kindred deliverance from the lower gloom, an investiture with spiritual bodies, and an admission into the kingdom of God. According to Paul, then, physical death is not the retributive consequence of Adam's sin, but is the will of the Creator in the law of nature, the sowing of terrestrial bodies for the gathering of celestial bodies, the putting off of the image of the earthy for the putting on of the image of the heavenly. The specialty of the marring and punitive interference of sin in the economy is, in addition to the penalties in moral experience, the interpolation, between the fleshly "unclothing" and the spiritual "clothing upon," of the long, disembodied, subterranean residence, from the descent of Abel into its palpable solitude to the ascent of Christ out of its multitudinous world. From Adam, in the flesh, humanity sinks into the grave realm; from Christ, in the spirit, it shall rise into heaven. Had man remained innocent, death, considered as change of body and transition to heaven, would still have been his portion; but all the suffering and evil now actually associated with death would not have been. Leaving the Scriptures, the first man appears in literature, in the history of human thought on the beginning of our race, in three forms. There is the Mythical Adam, the embodiment of poetical musings, fanciful conceits, and speculative dreams; there is the Theological Adam, the central postulate of a group of dogmas, the support of a fabric of controversial thought, the lay figure to fill out and wear the hypothetical dresses of a doctrinal system; and there is the Scientific Adam, the first specimen of the genus man, the supposititious personage who, as the earliest product, on this grade, of the Creative organic force or Divine energy, commenced the series of human generations. The first is a hypostatized legend, the second a metaphysical personification, the third a philosophical hypothesis. The first is an attractive heap of imaginations, the next a dialectic mass of dogmatisms, the last a modest set of theories. Philo says God made Adam not from any chance earth, but from a carefully selected portion of the finest and most sifted clay, and that, as being directly created by God, he was superior to all others generated by men, the generations of whom deteriorate in each remove from him, as the attraction of a magnet weakens from the iron ring it touches along a chain of connected rings. The Rabbins say Adam was so large that when he lay down he reached across the earth, and when standing his head touched the firmament: after his fall he waded through the ocean, Orion like. Even a French Academician, Nicolas Fleurion, held that Adam was one hundred and twenty three feet and nine inches in height. All creatures except the angel Eblis, as the Koran teaches, made obeisance to him. Eblis, full of envy and pride, refused, and was thrust into hell by God, where he began to plot the ruin of the new race. One effect of the forbidden fruit he ate was to cause rotten teeth in his descendants. He remained in Paradise but one day. After he had eaten from the prohibited tree, Eve gave of the fruit to the other creatures in Eden, and they all ate of it, and so became mortal, with the sole exception of the phoenix, who refused to taste it, and consequently remained immortal. The Talmud teaches that Adam would never have died had he not sinned. The majority of the Christian fathers and doctors, from Tertullian and Augustine to Luther and Calvin, have maintained the same opinion. It has been the orthodox that is, the prevailing doctrine of the Church, affirmed by the Synod at Carthage in the year four hundred and eighteen, and by the Council of Trent in the year fifteen hundred and forty five. All the evils which afflict the world, both moral and material, are direct results of Adam's sin. He contained all the souls of men in himself; and they all sinned in him, their federal head and legal representative. When the fatal fruit was plucked, "Earth felt the wound, and Nature from her seat, Sighing through all her works, gave signs of woe That all was lost." Earthquakes, tempests, pestilences, poverty, war, the endless brood of distress, ensued. For then were "Turn'd askance The poles of earth twice ten degrees and more From the sun's axle, and with labor push'd Oblique the centric globe." Adam's transcendent faculties and gifts were darkened and diminished in his depraved posterity, and all base propensities let loose to torment, confuse, and degrade them. We can scarcely form a conception of the genius, the beauty, the blessedness, of the first man, say the theologians in chorus.11 Augustine declares, "The most gifted of our time must be considered, when compared with Adam in genius, as tortoises to birds in speed." Adam, writes Dante, "was made from clay, accomplished with every gift that life can teem with." Thomas Aquinas teaches that "he was immortal by grace though not by nature, had universal knowledge, fellowshipped with angels, and saw God." South, in his famous sermon on "Man the Image of God," after an elaborate panegyric of the wondrous majesty, wisdom, peacefulness, and bliss of man before the fall, exclaims, "Aristotle was but the rubbish of an Adam, and Athens the rudiments of Paradise!" Jean Paul has amusingly burlesqued these conceits. "Adam, in his state of innocence, possessed a knowledge of all the arts and sciences, universal and scholastic history, the several penal and other codes of law, and all the old dead languages, as well as the living. He was, as it were, a living Pegasus and Pindus, a movable lodge of sublime light, a royal literary society, a pocket seat of the Muses, and a short golden age of Louis the Fourteenth!" Adam has been called the Man without a Navel, because, not being born of woman, there could be no umbilical cord to cut. The thought goes deep. In addition to the mythico theological pictures of the mechanical creation and superlative condition of the first man, two forms of statement have been advanced by thoughtful students of nature. One is the theory of chronological progressive development; the other is the theory of the 11 Strauss gives a multitude of apposite quotations in his Christliche Glaubenslehre, band i. s. 691, sect. 51, ff. simultaneous creation of organic families of different species or typical forms. The advocate of the former goes back along the interminable vistas of geologic time, tracing his ancestral line through the sinking forms of animal life, until, with the aid of a microscope, he sees a closed vesicle of structureless membrane; and this he recognises as the scientific Adam. This theory has been brought into fresh discussion by Mr. Darwin in his rich and striking work on the Origin of Species12 The other view contrasts widely with this, and is not essentially different from the account in Genesis. It shows God himself creating by regular methods, in natural materials, not by a vicegerent law, not with the anthropomorphitic hands of an external potter. Every organized fabric, however complex, originates in a single physiological cell. Every individual organism from the simple plant known as red snow to the oak, from the zoophyte to man is developed from such a cell. This is unquestionable scientific knowledge. The phenomenal process of organic advancement is through growth of the cell by selective appropriation of material, self multiplication of the cell, chemical transformations of the pabulum of the cell, endowment of the muscular and nervous tissues produced by those transformations with vital and psychical properties. But the essence of the problem lies in the question, Why does one of these simple cells become a cabbage, another a rat, another a whale, another a man? Within the limits of known observation during historic time, every organism yields seed or bears progeny after its own kind. Between all neighboring species there are impassable, discrete chasms. The direct reason, therefore, why one cell stops in completion at any given vegetable stage, another at a certain animal stage, is that its producing parent was that vegetable or that animal. Now, going back to the first individual of each kind, which had no determining parent like itself, the theory of the gradually ameliorating development of one species out of the next below it is one mode of solving the problem. Another mode more satisfactory at least to theologians and their allies is to conclude that God, the Divine Force, by whom the life of the universe is given, made the world after an ideal plan, including a systematic arrangement of all the possible modifications. This plan was in his thought, in the unity of all its parts, from the beginning; and the animate creation is the execution of its diagrams in organic life. Instead of the lineal extraction of the complicated scheme out of one cell, there has been, from epoch to epoch, the simultaneous production of all included in one of its sections. The Creator, at his chosen times, calling into existence a multitude of cells, gave each one the amount and type of organic force which would carry it to the destined grade and form. In this manner may have originated, at the same time, the first sparrow, the first horse, the first man, in short, a whole circle of congeners. "The grassy clods now calved; now half appear'd The tawny lion, pawing to get free His hinder parts, then springs as broke from bonds, And rampant shakes his brinded mane." 12 The most forcible defence of this hypothesis is that made by Herbert Spencer. See, in his volume of Essays, No. 2 of the Haythorne Papers. Also see Oken, Entstehung des ersten Menechen, Isis, 1819, ss. 1117-1123. Each creature, therefore, would be distinct from others from the first. "Man, though rising from not man, came forth sharply defined." The races thus originated in their initiative representatives by the creative power of God, thenceforth possess in themselves the power, each one, in the generative act, to put its typical dynamic stamp upon the primordial cells of its immediate descendants. Adam, then, was a wild man, cast in favoring conditions of climate, endowed with the same faculties as now, only not in so high a degree. For, by his peculiar power of forming habits, accumulating experience, transmitting acquirements and tendencies, he has slowly risen to his present state with all its wealth of wisdom, arts, and comforts. By either of these theories, that of Darwin, or that of Agassiz, man, the head of the great organic family of the earth, and it matters not at all whether there were only one Adam and Eve, or whether each separate race had its own Adams and Eves,13 not merely a solitary pair, but simultaneous hundreds, man, physically considered, is indistinguishably included in the creative plan under the same laws and forces, and visibly subject to the same destination, as the lower animals. He starts with a cell as they do, grows to maturity by assimilative organization and endowing transformation of foreign nutriment as they do, his life is a continuous process of waste and repair of tissues as theirs is, and there is, from the scientific point of view, no conceivable reason why he should not be subject to physical death as they are. They have always been subject to death, which, therefore, is an aboriginal constituent of the Creative plan. It has been estimated, upon data furnished by scientific observation, that since the appearance of organic life on earth, millions of years ago, animals enough have died to cover all the lands of the globe with their bones to the height of three miles. Consequently, the historic commencement of death is not to be found in the sin of man. We shall discover it as a necessity in the first organic cell that was ever formed. The spherule of force which is the primitive basis of a cell spends itself in the discharge of its work. In other words, "the amount of vital action which can be performed by each living cell has a definite limit." When that limit is reached, the exhausted cell is dead. To state the fact differently: no function can be performed without "the disintegration of a certain amount of tissue, whose components are then removed as effete by the excretory processes." This final expenditure on the part of a cell of its modification of force is the act of molecular death, the germinal essence of all decay. That this organic law should rule in every living structure is a necessity inherent in the actual conditions of the creation. And wherever we look in the realm of physical man, even "from the red outline of beginning Adam" to the amorphous adipocere of the last corpse when fate's black curtain falls on our race, we shall discern death. For death is the other side of life. Life and death are the two hands with which the organic power works. The threescore simple elements known to chemists die, that is, surrender their peculiar powers and properties, and enter into new combinations to produce and support higher forms of life. Otherwise these inorganic elemental wastes would be all that the material universe could show. 13 The Diversity of Origin of the Human Races, by Louis Agassiz, Christian Examiner, July, 1850. The simple plant consists of single cells, which, in its development, give up their independent life for the production of a more exalted vegetable form. The formation of a perfectly organized plant is made possible only through the continuous dying and replacement of its cells. Similarly, in the development of an animal, the constituent cells die for the good of the whole creature; and the more perfect the animal the greater the subordination of the parts. The cells of the human body are incessantly dying, being borne off and replaced. The epidermis or scarf skin is made of millions of insensible scales, consisting of former cells which have died in order with their dead bodies to build this guardian wall around the tender inner parts. Thus, death, operating within the individual, seen in the light of natural science, is a necessity, is purely a form of self surrendering beneficence, is, indeed, but a hidden and indirect process and completion of life.14 And is not the death of the total organism just as needful, just as benignant, as the death of the component atoms? Is it not the same law, still expressing the same meaning? The chemicalelements wherein individuality is wanting, as Wagner says, die that vegetable bodies may live. Individual vegetable bodies die that new individuals of the species may live, and that they may supply the conditions for animals to live. The individual beast dies that other individuals of his species may live, and also for the good of man. The plant lives by the elements and by other plants: the animal lives by the elements, by the plants, and by other animals: man lives and reigns by the service of the elements, of the plants, and of the animals. The individual man dies if we may trust the law of analogy for the good of his species, and that he may furnish the conditions for the development of a higher life elsewhere. It is quite obvious that, if individuals did not die, new individuals could not live, because there would not be room. It is also equally evident that, if individuals did not die, they could never have any other life than the present. The foregoing considerations, fathomed and appreciated, transform the institution of death from caprice and punishment into necessity and benignity. In the timid sentimentalist's view, death is horrible. Nature unrolls the chart of organic existence, a convulsed and lurid list of murderers, from the spider in the window to the tiger in the jungle, from the shark at the bottom of the sea to the eagle against the floor of the sky. As the perfumed fop, in an interval of reflection, gazes at the spectacle through his dainty eyeglass, the prospect swims in blood and glares with the ghastly phosphorus of corruption, and he shudders with sickness. In the philosophical naturalist's view, the dying panorama is wholly different. Carnivorous violence prevents more pain than it inflicts; the wedded laws of life and death wear the solemn beauty and wield the merciful functions of God; all is balanced and ameliorating; above the slaughterous struggle safely soar the dove and the rainbow; out of the charnel blooms the rose to which the nightingale sings love; nor is there poison which helps not health, nor destruction which supplies not creation with nutriment for greater good and joy. By painting such pictures as that of a woman with "Sin" written on her forehead in great glaring letters, giving to Death a globe entwined by a serpent, or that of Death as a 14 Hermann Wagner, Der Tod, beleuchtet vom Standpunkte der Naturwissenschaften. skeleton, waving a black banner over the world and sounding through a trumpet, "Woe, woe to the inhabitants of the earth!" by interpreting the great event as punishment instead of fulfilment, extermination instead of transition, men have elaborated, in the faith of their imaginations, a melodramatic death which nature never made. Truly, to the capable observer, death bears the double aspect of necessity and benignity: necessity, because it is an ultimate fact, as the material world is made, that, since organic action implies expenditure of force, the modicum of force given to any physical organization must finally be spent; benignity, because a bodily immortality on earth would both prevent all the happiness of perpetually rising millions and be an unspeakable curse upon its possessors. The benevolence of death appears from this fact, that it boundlessly multiplies the numbers who can enjoy the prerogatives of life. It calls up ever fresh generations, with wondering eyes and eager appetites, to the perennial banquet of existence. Had Adam not sinned and been expelled from Paradise, some of the Christian Fathers thought, the fixed number of saints foreseen by God would have been reached and then no more would have been born.15 Such would have been the necessity, there being no death. But, by the removal of one company as they grow tired and sated, room is made for a new company to approach and enjoy the ever renewing spectacle and feast of the world. Thus all the delightful boons life has, instead of being cooped within a little stale circle, are ceaselessly diffused and increased. Vivacious claimants advance, see what is to be seen, partake of what is furnished, are satisfied, and retire; and their places are immediately taken by hungry successors. Thus the torch of life is passed briskly, with picturesque and stimulating effect, along the manifold race of running ages, instead of smouldering stagnantly forever in the moveless grasp of one. The amount of enjoyment, the quantity of conscious experience, gained from any given exhibition by a million persons to each of whom it is successively shown for one hour, is, beyond all question, immensely greater and keener than one person could have from it in a million hours. The generations of men seem like fire flies glittering down the dark lane of History; but each swarm had its happy turn, fulfilled its hour, and rightfully gave way to its followers. The disinterested beneficence of the Creator ordains that the same plants, insects, men, shall not unsurrenderingly monopolize and stop the bliss of breath. Death is the echo of the voice of love reverberated from the limit of life. The cumulative fund of human experience, the sensitive affiliating line of history, like a cerebral cord of personal identity traversing the centuries, renders a continual succession of generations equivalent to the endless existence of one generation; but with this mighty difference, that it preserves all the edge and spice of novelty. For consider what would be the result if death were abolished and men endowed with an earthly immortality. At first they might rejoice, and think their last, dreadest enemy destroyed. But what a mistake! In the first place, since none are to be removed from the earth, of course none must come into it. The space and material are all wanted by those now in possession. All are soon mature men and women, not another infant ever to hang upon a mother's breast or be lifted in a father's arms. 15 Augustine, Op. Imp. iii. 198. All the prattling music, fond cares, yearning love, and gushing joys and hopes associated with the rearing of children, gone! What a stupendous fragment is stricken from the fabric of those enriching satisfactions which give life its truest value and its purest charm! Ages roll on. They see the same everlasting faces, confront the same returning phenomena, engage in the same worn out exercises, or lounge idly in the unchangeable conditions which bear no stimulant which they have not exhausted. Thousands of years pass. They have drunk every attainable spring of knowledge dry. Not a prize stirs a pulse. All pleasures, permutated till ingenuity is baffled, disgust them. No terror startles them. No possible experiment remains untried; nor is there any unsounded fortune left. No dim marvels and boundless hopes beckon them with resistless lures into the future. They have no future. One everlasting now is their all. At last the incessant repetition of identical phenomena, the unmitigated sameness of things, the eternal monotony of affairs, become unutterably burdensome and horrible. Full of loathing and immeasurable fatigue, a weariness like the weight of a universe oppresses them; and what would they not give for a change! any thing to break the nightmare spell of ennui, to fling off the dateless flesh, to die, to pass into some unguessed realm, to lie down and sleep forever: it would be the infinite boon! Take away from man all that is dependent on, or interlinked with, the appointment of death, and it would make such fundamental alterations of his constitution and relations that he would no longer be man. It would leave us an almost wholly different race. If it is a divine boon that men should be, then death is a good to us; for it enables us to be men. Without it there would neither be husband and wife, nor parent and child, nor family hearth and altar; nor, indeed, would hardly any thing be as it is now. The existent phenomena of nature and the soul would comprise all. And when the jaded individual, having mastered and exhausted this finite sum, looked in vain for any thing new or further, the world would be a hateful dungeon to him, and life an awful doom; and how gladly he would give all that lies beneath the sun's golden round and top of sovereignty to migrate into some untried region and state of being, or even to renounce existence altogether and lie down forever in the attractive slumber of the grave! Without death, mankind would undergo the fate of Sisyphus, no future, and in the present the oppression of an intolerable task with an aching vacuum of motive. The certainty and the mystery of death create the stimulus and the romance of life. Give the human race an earthly immortality, and you exclude them from every thing greater and diviner than the earth affords. Who could consent to that? Take away death, and a brazen wall girds in our narrow life, against which, if we remained men, we should dash and chafe in the climax of our miserable longing, as the caged lion or eagle beats against his bars. The gift of an earthly immortality conferred on a single person a boon which thoughtless myriads would clasp with frantic triumph would prove, perhaps, a still more fearful curse than if distributed over the whole species. Retaining his human affections, how excruciating and remediless his grief must be, to be so cut off from all equal community of experience and destiny with mankind, to see all whom he loves, generation after generation, fading away, leaving him alone, to form new ties again to be dissolved, to watch his beloved ones growing old and infirm, while he stands without a change! His love would be left, in agony of melancholy grandeur, "a solitary angel hovering over a universe of tombs" on the tremulous wings of memory and grief, those wings incapacitated, by his madly coveted prerogative of deathlessness, ever to move from above the sad rows of funereal urns. Zanoni, in Bulwer's magnificent conception, says to Viola, "The flower gives perfume to the rock on whose breast it grows. A little while, and the flower is dead; but the rock still endures, the snow at its breast, the sunshine on its summit." A deathless individual in a world of the dying, joined with them by ever bereaved affections, would be the wretchedest creature conceivable. As no man ever yet prayed for any thing he would pray to be released, to embrace dear objects in his arms and float away with them to heaven, or even to lie down with them in the kind embrace of mother earth. And if he had no affections, but lived a stoic existence, exempt from every sympathy, in impassive solitude, he could not be happy, he would not be man: he must be an intellectual marble of thought or a monumental mystery of woe. Death, therefore, is benignity. When men wish there were no such appointed event, they are deceived, and know not what they wish. Literature furnishes a strange and profound, though wholly unintentional, confirmation of this view. Every form in which literary genius has set forth the conception of an earthly immortality represents it as an evil. This is true even down to Swift's painful account of the Struldbrugs in the island of Laputa. The legend of the Wandering Jew,16 one of the most marvellous products of the human mind in imaginative literature, is terrific with its blazoned revelation of the contents of an endless life on earth. This story has been embodied, with great variety of form and motive, in more than a hundred works. Every one is, without the writer's intention, a disguised sermon of gigantic force on the benignity of death. As in classic fable poor Tithon became immortal in the dawning arms of Eos only to lead a shrivelled, joyless, repulsive existence; and the fair young witch of Cuma had ample cause to regret that ever Apollo granted her request for as many years as she held grains of dust in her hand; and as all tales of successful alchemists or Rosicrucians concur in depicting the result to be utter disappointment and revulsion from the accursed prize; we may take it as evidence of a spontaneous conviction in the depths of human nature a conviction sure to be brought out whenever the attempt is made to describe in life an opposite thought that death is benign for man as he is constituted and related on earth. The voice of human nature speaks truth through the lips of Cicero, saying, at the close of his essay on Old Age, "Quodsi non sumus immortales futuri, tamen exstingui homini suo tempore optabile est." In a conversation at the house of Sappho, a discussion once arose upon the question whether death was a blessing or an evil. Some maintained, the former alternative; but Sappho victoriously closed the debate by saying, If it were a blessing to die, the immortal gods would experience it. The gods live forever: therefore, death is an evil.17 The reasoning was plausible and brilliant. Yet its sophistry is complete. To men, conditioned as they are in this world, death may be the greatest blessing; while to the gods, conditioned so differently, it may have no similar application. 16 Bibliographical notice of the legend of the wandering Jew, by Paul Lacroix; trans. into English by G.W. Thornbury. Grasse, Der ewige Jude. 17 Fragment X. Quoted in Mare's Hist. Lit. Greece, book iii. chap. v. sect. 18. Because an earthly eternity in the flesh would be a frightful calamity, is no reason why a heavenly eternity in the spirit would be other than a blissful inheritance. Thus the remonstrance which may be fallaciously based on some of the foregoing considerations namely, that they would equally make it appear that the immortality of man in any condition would be undesirable is met. A conclusion drawn from the facts of the present scene of things, of course, will not apply to a scene inconceivably different. Those whose only bodies are their minds may be fetterless, happy, leading a wondrous life, beyond our deepest dream and farthest fancy, and eternally free from trouble or satiety. Death is to us, while we live, what we think it to be. If we confront it with analytic and defiant eye, it is that nothing which ever ceases in beginning to be. If, letting the superstitious senses tyrannize over us and cow our better part of man, we crouch before the imagination of it, it assumes the shape of the skeleton monarch who takes the world for his empire, the electric fluid for his chariot, and time for his sceptre. In the contemplation of death, hitherto, fancy inspired by fear has been by far too much the prominent faculty and impulse. The literature of the subject is usually ghastly, appalling, and absurd, with point of view varying from that of the credulous Hindu, personifying death as a monster with a million mouths devouring all creatures and licking them in his flaming lips as a fire devours the moths or as the sea swallows the torrents,18 to that of the atheistic German dreamer, who converts nature into an immeasurable corpse worked by galvanic forces, and that of the bold French philosopher, Carnot, whose speculations have led to the theory that the sun will finally expend all its heat, and constellated life cease, as the solar system hangs, like a dead orrery, ashy and spectral, the ghost of what it was. So the extravagant author of Festus says, "God tore the glory from the sun's broad brow And flung the flaming scalp away." The subject should be viewed by the unclouded intellect, guided by serene faith, in the light of scientific knowledge. Then death is revealed, first, as an organic necessity in the primordial life cell; secondly, as the cessation of a given form of life in its completion; thirdly, as a benignant law, an expression of the Creator's love; fourthly, as the inaugurating condition of another form of life. What we are to refer to sin is all the seeming lawlessness and untimeliness of death. Had not men sinned, all would reach a good age and pass away without suffering. Death is benignant necessity; the irregularity and pain associated with it are an inherited punishment. Finally, it is a condition of improvement in life. Death is the incessant touch with which the artist, Nature, is bringing her works to perfection. Physical death is experienced by man in common with the brute. Upon grounds of physiology there is no greater evidence for man's Spiritual survival through that overshadowed crisis than there is for the brute's. And on grounds of sentiment man ought not to shrink from sharing his open future with these mute comrades. Des Cartes and Malebranche taught that animals are mere machines, without souls, worked by God's arbitrary power. Swedenborg held that "the souls of brutes are extinguished with their bodies." 19 18 Thomson's trans. of Bhagavad Gita, p. 77. 19 Outlines of the Infinite, chap. ii. sect. iv. 13. Leibnitz, by his doctrine of eternal monads, sustains the immortality of all creatures. Coleridge defended the same idea. Agassiz, with much power and beauty, advocates the thought that animals as well as men have a future life. 20 The old traditions affirm that at least four beasts have been translated to heaven; namely, the ass that spoke to Balaam, the white foal that Christ rode into Jerusalem, the steed Borak that bore Mohammed on his famous night journey, and the dog that wakened the Seven Sleepers. To recognise, as Goethe did, brothers in the green wood and in the teeming air, to sympathize with all lower forms of life, and hope for them an open range of limitless possibilities in the hospitable home of God, is surely more becoming to a philosopher, a poet, or a Christian, than that careless scorn which commonly excludes them from regard and contemptuously leaves them to annihilation. This subject has been genially treated by Richard Dean in his "Essay on the Future Life of Brutes." But on moral and psychological grounds the distinction is vast between the dying man and the dying brute. Bretschneider, in a beautiful sermon on this point, specifies four particulars. Man foresees and provides for his death: the brute does not. Man dies with unrecompensed merit and guilt: the brute does not. Man dies with faculties and powers fitted for a more perfect state of existence: the brute does not. Man dies with the expectation of another life: the brute does not. Three contrasts may be added to these. First, man desires to die amidst his fellows: the brute creeps away by himself, to die in solitude. Secondly, man inters his dead with burial rites, rears a memorial over them, cherishes recollections of them which often change his subsequent character: but who ever heard of a deer watching over an expiring comrade, a deer funeral winding along the green glades of the forest? The barrows of Norway, the mounds of Yucatan, the mummy pits of Memphis, the rural cemeteries of our own day, speak the human thoughts of sympathetic reverence and posthumous survival, typical of something superior to dust. Thirdly, man often makes death an active instead of a passive experience, his will as it is his fate, a victory instead of a defeat.21 As Mirabeau sank towards his end, he ordered them to pour perfumes and roses on him, and to bring music; and so, with the air of a haughty conqueror, amidst the volcanic smoke and thunder of reeling France, his giant spirit went forth. The patriot is proud to lay his body a sacrifice on the altar of his country's weal. The philanthropist rejoices to spend himself without pay in a noble cause, to offer up his life in the service of his fellow men. Thousands of generous students have given their lives to science and clasped death amidst their trophied achievements. Who can count the confessors who have thought it bliss and glory to be martyrs for truth and God? Creatures capable of such deeds must inherit eternity. Their transcendent souls step from their rejected mansions through the blue gateway of the air to the lucid palace of the stars. Any meaner allotment would be discordant and unbecoming their rank. Contemplations like these exorcise the spectre host of the brain and quell the horrid brood of fear. The noble purpose of self sacrifice enables us to smile upon the grave, "as some sweet clarion's breath stirs the soldier's scorn of danger." 20 Contributions to the Natural History of the United States, vol. i. pp. 64-66. Umbreit, fiber das Sterben ais einen Akt menschlich personlicher Selbststandigkeit. Studien und Kritiken, 1837. Death parts with its false frightfulness, puts on its true beauty, and becomes at once the evening star of memory and the morning star of hope, the Hesper of the sinking flesh, the Phosphor of the rising soul. Let the night come, then: it shall be welcome. And, as we gird our loins to enter the ancient mystery, we will exclaim, with vanishing voice, to those we leave behind, "Though I stoop Into a dark tremendous sea of cloud, It is but for a time I press God's lamp Close to my breast: its splendor, soon or late, Will pierce the gloom: I shall emerge somewhere." CHAPTER III. GROUNDS OF THE BELIEF IN A FUTURE LIFE. IT is the purpose of the following chapter to describe the originating supports of the common belief in a future life; not to probe the depth and test the value of the various grounds out of which the doctrine grows, but only to give a descriptive sketch of what they are, and a view of the process of growth. The objections urged by unbelievers belong to an open discussion of the question of immortality, not to an illustrative statement of the suggesting grounds on which the popular belief rests. When, after sufficient investigation, we ask ourselves from what causes the almost universal expectation of another life springs, and by what influences it is nourished, we shall not find adequate answer in less than four words: feeling, imagination, faith, and reflection. The doctrine of a future life for man has been created by the combined force of instinctive desire, analogical observation, prescriptive authority, and philosophical speculation. These are the four pillars on which the soul builds the temple of its hopes; or the four glasses through which it looks to see its eternal heritage. First, it is obvious that man is endowed at once with foreknowledge of death and with a powerful love of life. It is not a love of being here; for he often loathes the scene around him. It is a love of self possessed existence; a love of his own soul in its central consciousness and bounded royalty. This is an inseparable element of his very entity. Crowned with free will, walking on the crest of the world, enfeoffed with individual faculties, served by vassal nature with tributes of various joy, he cannot bear the thought of losing himself, of sliding into the general abyss of matter. His interior consciousness is permeated with a self preserving instinct, and shudders at every glimpse of danger or hint of death. The soul, pervaded with a guardian instinct of life, and seeing death's steady approach to destroy the body, necessitates the conception of an escape into another state of existence. Fancy and reason, thus set at work, speedily construct a thousand theories filled with details. Desire first fathers thought, and then thought woos belief. Secondly, man, holding his conscious being precious beyond all things, and shrinking with pervasive anxieties from the moment of destined dissolution, looks around through the realms of nature, with thoughtful eye, in search of parallel phenomena further developed, significant sequels in other creatures' fates, whose evolution and fulfilment may haply throw light on his own. With eager vision and heart prompted imagination he scrutinizes whatever appears related to his object. Seeing the snake cast its old slough and glide forth renewed, he conceives, so in death man but sheds his fleshly exuvia, while the spirit emerges, regenerate. He beholds the beetle break from its filthy sepulchre and commence its summer work; and straightway he hangs a golden scarsbaus in his temples as an emblem of a future life. After vegetation's wintry deaths, hailing the returning spring that brings resurrection and life to the graves of the sod, he dreams of some far off spring of Humanity, yet to come, when the frosts of man's untoward doom shall relent, and all the costly seeds sown through ages in the great earth tomb shall shoot up in celestial shapes. On the moaning sea shore, weeping some dear friend, he perceives, now ascending in the dawn, the planet which he lately saw declining in the dusk; and he is cheered by the thought that "As sinks the day star in the ocean bed, And yet anon repairs his drooping head, And tricks his beams, and with new spangled ore Flames in the forehead of the morning sky, So Lycidas, sunk low, shall mount on high." Some traveller or poet tells him fabulous tales of a bird which, grown aged, fills its nest with spices, and, spontaneously burning, soars from the aromatic fire, rejuvenescent for a thousand years; and he cannot but take the phoenix for a miraculous type of his own soul springing, free and eternal, from the ashes of his corpse. Having watched the silkworm, as it wove its cocoon and lay down in its oblong grave apparently dead, until at length it struggles forth, glittering with rainbow colors, a winged moth, endowed with new faculties and living a new life in a new sphere, he conceives that so the human soul may, in the fulness of time, disentangle itself from the imprisoning meshes of this world of larva, a thing of spirit beauty, to sail through heavenly airs; and henceforth he engraves a butterfly on the tombstone in vivid prophecy of immortality. Thus a moralizing observation of natural similitudes teaches man to hope for an existence beyond death. Thirdly, the prevailing belief in a future life is spread and upheld by the influence of authority. The doctrine of the soul's survival and transference to another world, where its experience depends on conditions observed or violated here, conditions somewhat within the control of a select class of men here, such a doctrine is the very hiding place of the power of priest craft, a vast engine of interest and sway which the shrewd insight of priesthoods has often devised and the cunning policy of states subsidized. In most cases of this kind the asserted doctrine is placed on the basis of a divine revelation, and must be implicitly received. God proclaims it through his anointed ministers: therefore, to doubt it or logically criticize it is a crime. History bears witness to such a procedure wherever an organized priesthood has flourished, from primeval pagan India to modern papal Rome. It is traceable from the dark Osirian shrines of Egypt and the initiating temple at Eleusis to the funeral fires of Gaul and the Druidic conclave in the oak groves of Mona; from the reeking altars of Mexico in the time of Montezuma to the masses for souls in Purgatory said this day in half the churches of Christendom. Much of the popular faith in immortality which has prevailed in all ages has been owing to the authority of its promulgators, a deep and honest trust on the part of the people in the authoritative dicta of their religious teachers. In all the leading nations of the earth, the doctrine of a future life is a tradition handed down from immemorial antiquity, embalmed in sacred books which are regarded as infallible revelations from God. Of course the thoughtless never think of questioning it; the reverent piously embrace it; all are educated to receive it. In addition to the proclamation of a future life by the sacred books and by the priestly hierarchies, it has also been affirmed by countless individual saints, philosophers, and prophets. Most persons readily accept it on trust from them as a demonstrated theory or an inspired knowledge of theirs. It is natural for modest unspeculative minds, busied with worldly cares, to say, These learned sages, these theosophic seers, so much more gifted, educated, and intimate with the divine counsels and plan than we are, with so much deeper experience and purer insight than we have, must know the truth: we cannot in any other way do so well as to follow their guidance and confide in their assertions. Accordingly, multitudes receive the belief in a life to come on the authority of the world's intellectual and religious leaders. Fourthly, the belief in a future life results from philosophical meditation, and is sustained by rational proofs.1 For the completion of the present outline, it now remains to give a brief exposition of these arguments. For the sake of convenience and clearness, we must arrange these reasonings in five classes; namely, the physiological, the analogical, the psychological, the theological, and the moral. There is a group of considerations drawn from the phenomena of our bodily organization, life and death, which compose the physiological argument for the separate existence of the soul. In the first place, it is contended that the human organization, so wondrously vitalized, developed, and ruled, could not have grown up out of mere matter, but implies a pre existent mental entity, a spiritual force or idea, which constituted the primeval impulse, grouped around itself the organic conditions of our existence, and constrained the material elements to the subsequent processes and results, according to a prearranged plan.2 This dynamic agent, this ontological cause, may naturally survive when the fleshly organization which it has built around itself dissolves. Its independence before the body began involves its independence after the body is ended. Stahl has especially illustrated in physiology this idea of an independent soul monad. Secondly, as some potential being must have preceded our birth, to assimilate and construct the physical system, so the great phenomena attending our conscious life necessitate, both to our instinctive apprehension and in our philosophical conviction, the distinctive division of man into body and soul, tabernacle and tenant. The illustrious Boerhaave wrote a valuable dissertation on the distinction of the mind from the body, which is to be found among his works. Every man knows that he dwells in the flesh but is not flesh. He is a free, personal mind, occupying and using a material body, but not identified with it. Ideas and passions of purely immaterial origin pervade every nerve with terrific intensity, and shake his encasing corporeity like an earthquake. A thought, a sentiment, a fancy, may prostrate him as effectually as a blow on his brain from a hammer. He wills to move a palsied limb: the soul is unaffected by the paralysis, but the muscles refuse to obey his volition: the distinction between the person willing and the instrument to be wielded is unavoidable. Thirdly, the fact of death itself irresistibly suggests the duality of flesh and spirit. It is the removal of the energizing mind that leaves the frame so empty and meaningless. Think of the undreaming sleep of a corpse which dissolution is winding in its chemical embrace. A moment ago that hand was uplifted to clasp yours, intelligent accents were vocal on those 1 Wohlfarth, Triumph des Glaubens an Unsterblichkeit und Wiedersehen uber jeden Zweifel. Oporinus, Historia Critica Doctrina de Immortalitate Mortalium. 2 Muller, Elements of Physiology, book vi. sect. i. ch. 1. lips, the light of love beamed in that eye. One shuddering sigh, and how cold, vacant, forceless, dead, lies the heap of clay! It is impossible to prevent the conviction that an invisible power has been liberated; that the flight of an animating principle has produced this awful change. Why may not that untraceable something which has gone still exist? Its vanishing from our sensible cognizance is no proof of its perishing. Not a shadow of genuine evidence has ever been afforded that the real life powers of any creature are destroyed.3 In the absence of that proof, a multitude of considerations urge us to infer the contrary. Surely there is room enough for the contrary to be true; for, as Jacobi profoundly observes, "life is not a form of body; but body is one form of life." Therefore the soul which now exists in this form, not appearing to be destroyed on its departure hence, must be supposed to live hereafter in some other form.4 A second series of observations and reflections, gathered from partial similarities elsewhere in the world, are combined to make the analogical argument for a future life. For many centuries, in the literature of many nations, a standard illustration of the thought that the soul survives the decay of its earthy investiture has been drawn from the metamorphosis of the caterpillar into the butterfly.5 This world is the scene of our grub state. The body is but a chrysalis of soul. When the preliminary experience and stages are finished and the transformation is complete, the spirit emerges from its cast off cocoon and broken cell into the more ethereal air and sunnier light of a higher world's eternal day. The emblematic correspondence is striking, and the inference is obvious and beautiful. Nor is the change, the gain in endowments and privileges, greater in the supposed case of man than it is from the slow and loathsome worm on the leaf to the swift and glittering insect in the air. Secondly, in the material world, so far as we can judge, nothing is ever absolutely destroyed. There is no such thing as annihilation. Things are changed, transformations abound; but essences do not cease to be. Take a given quantity of any kind of matter; divide and subdivide it in ten thousand ways, by mechanical violence, by chemical solvents. Still it exists, as the same quantity of matter, with unchanged qualities as to its essence, and will exist when Nature has manipulated it in all her laboratories for a billion ages. Now, as a solitary exception to this, are minds absolutely destroyed? are will, conscience, thought, and love annihilated? Personal intelligence, affection, identity, are inseparable components of the idea of a soul. And what method is there of crushing or evaporating these out of being? What force is there to compel them into nothing? Death is not a substantive cause working effects. It is itself merely an effect. It is simply a change in the mode of existence. That this change puts an end to existence is an assertion against analogy, and wholly unsupported. Thirdly, following the analogy of science and the visible order of being, we are led to the conception of an ascending series of existences rising in regular gradation from coarse to fine, from brutal to mental, from earthly composite to simply spiritual, and thus pointing up the rounds of life's ladder, through all nature, to the angelic ranks of heaven. Then, feeling his kinship and common vocation with supernal beings, man is assured of a loftier condition of 3 Sir Humphry Davy, Proteus or Immortality. 4 Bakewell, Natural Evidence of a Future State. 5 Butler, Analogy, part i. ch. 1. of existence reserved for him. There are no such immense, vacantly yawning chasms, as that would be, between our fleshly estate and the Godhead. Nature takes no such enormous jumps. Her scaling advance is by staid and normal steps. "There's lifeless matter. Add the power of shaping, And you've the crystal: add again the organs Wherewith to subdue sustenance to the form And manner of one's self, and you've the plant: Add power of motion, senses, and so forth, And you've all kinds of beasts: suppose a pig. To pig add reason, foresight, and such stuff, Then you have man. What shall, we add to man To bring him higher?" Freedom from the load of clay, emancipation of the spirit into the full range and masterdom of a spirit's powers! Fourthly, many strong similarities between our entrance into this world and our departure out of it would make us believe that death is but another and higher birth.6 Any one acquainted with the state of an unborn infant deriving its sole nutriment, its very existence, from its vascular connection with its mother could hardly imagine that its separation from its mother would introduce it to a new and independent life. He would rather conclude that it would perish, like a twig wrenched from its parent limb. So it may be in the separation of the soul from the body. Further, as our latent or dimly groping senses were useless while we were developing in embryo, and then implied this life, so we now have, in rudimentary condition, certain powers of reason, imagination, and heart, which prophesy heaven and eternity; and mysterious intimations ever and anon reach us from a diviner sphere, "Like hints and echoes of the world To spirits folded in the womb." The Persian poet, Buzurgi, says on this theme, "What is the soul? The seminal principle from the loins of destiny. This world is the womb: the body, its enveloping membrane: The bitterness of dissolution, dame Fortune's pangs of childbirth. What is death? To be born again, an angel of eternity." Fifthly, many cultivated thinkers have firmly believed that the soul is not so young as is usually thought, but is an old stager on this globe, having lived through many a previous existence, here or elsewhere.7 They sustain this conclusion by various considerations, either drawn from premises presupposing the necessary eternity of spirits, or resting on dusky reminiscences, "shadowy recollections," of visions and events vanished long ago. Now, if the idea of foregone conscious lives, personal careers oft repeated with unlost being, be admitted, as it frequently has been by such men as Plato and Wordsworth, all the 6 Bretschneider, Predigten uber Tod, Unsterblichkeit, und Anferstehung. 7 James Parker, Account of the Divine Goodness concerning the Pre existence of Souls. connected analogies of the case carry us to the belief that immortality awaits us. We shall live through the next transition, as we have lived through the past ones. Sixthly, rejecting the hypothesis of an anterior life, and entertaining the supposition that there is no creating and overruling God, but that all things have arisen by spontaneous development or by chance, still, we are not consistently obliged to expect annihilation as the fate of the soul. Fairly reasoning from the analogy of the past, across the facts of the present, to the impending contingencies of the future, we may say that the next stage in the unfolding processes of nature is not the destruction of our consciousness, but issues in a purer life, elevates us to a spiritual rank. It is just to argue that if mindless law or boundless fortuity made this world and brought us here, it may as well make, or have made, another world, and bear us there. Law or chance excluding God from the question may as easily make us immortal as mortal. Reasoning by analogy, we may affirm that, as life has been given us, so it will be given us again and forever. Seventhly, faith in immortality is fed by another analogy, not based on reflection, but instinctively felt. Every change of material in our organism, every change of consciousness, is a kind of death. We partially die as often as we leave behind forgotten experiences and lost states of being. We die successively to infancy, childhood, youth, manhood. The past is the dead: but our course is still on, forever on. Having survived so many deaths, we expect to survive all others and to be ourselves eternally. There is a third cluster of reasonings, deduced from the distinctive nature of spirit, constituting the psychological argument for the existence of the soul independent of the body. In the outset, obviously, if the soul be an immaterial entity, its natural immortality follows; because death and decay can only be supposed to take effect in dissoluble combinations. Several ingenious reasons have been advanced in proof of the soul's immateriality, reasons cogent enough to have convinced a large class of philosophers.8 It is sufficient here to notice the following one. All motion implies a dynamic mover. Matter is dormant. Power is a reality entirely distinct from matter in its nature. But man is essentially an active power, a free will. Consequently there is in him an immaterial principle, since all power is immaterial. That principle is immortal, because subsisting in a sphere of being whose categories exclude the possibility of dissolution.9 Secondly, should we admit the human soul to be material, yet if it be an ultimate monad, an indivisible atom of mind, it is immortal still, defying all the forces of destruction. And that it actually is an uncompounded unit may be thus proved. Consciousness is simple, not collective. Hence the power of consciousness, the central soul, is an absolute integer. For a living perceptive whole cannot be made of dead imperceptive parts. If the soul were composite, each component part would be an individual, a distinguishable consciousness. Such not being the fact, the conclusion results that the soul is one, a simple substance.10 8 Astrue, Dissertation sur l'Immaterialite et l'Immortalite de l'Ame. Broughton, Defence of the Doctrine of the Human Soul as an Immaterial and Naturally Immortal Principle. Marstaller, Von der Unsterblichkeit der Menschlichen Seele. 9 Andrew Baxter, Inquiry into the Nature of the Soul. 10 Herbart, Lehrbuch zur Psychologie, sect. 150. Of course it is not liable to death, but is naturally eternal. Thirdly, the indestructibleness of the soul is a direct inference from its ontological characteristics. Reason, contemplating the elements of the soul, cannot but embrace the conviction of its perpetuity and its essential independence of the fleshly organization. Our life in its innermost substantive essence is best defined as a conscious force. Our present existence is the organic correlation of that personal force with the physical materials of the body, and with other forces. The cessation of that correlation at death by no means involves, so far as we can see, the destruction or the disindividualization of the primal personal force. It is a fact of striking significance, often noticed by psychologists, that we are unable to conceive ourselves as dead. The negation of itself is impossible to consciousness. The reason we have such a dread of death is that we conceive ourselves as still alive, only in the grave, or wandering through horrors and shut out from wonted pleasures. It belongs to material growths to ripen, loosen, decay; but what is there in sensation, reflection, memory, volition, to crumble in pieces and rot away? Why should the power of hope, and joy, and faith, change into inanity and oblivion? What crucible shall burn up the ultimate of force? What material processes shall ever disintegrate the simplicity of spirit? Earth and plant, muscle, nerve, and brain, belong to one sphere, and are subject to the temporal fates that rule there; but reason, imagination, love, will, belong to another, and, immortally fortressed there, laugh to scorn the fretful sieges of decay. Fourthly, the surviving superiority of the soul, inferred from its contrast of qualities to those of its earthy environment, is further shown by another fact, the mind's dream power, and the ideal realm it freely soars or walks at large in when it pleases.11 This view has often been enlarged upon, especially by Bonnet and Sir Henry Wotton. The unhappy Achilles, exhausted with weeping for his friend, lay, heavily moaning, on the shore of the far sounding sea, in a clear spot where the waves washed in upon the beach, when sleep took possession of him. The ghost of miserable Patroclus calve to him and said, "Sleepest thou and art forgetful of me, O Achilles?" And the son of Peleus cried, "Come nearer: let us embrace each other, though but for a little while." Then he stretched out his friendly hands, but caught him not; for the spirit, shrieking, vanished beneath the earth like smoke. Astounded, Achilles started up, clasped his hands, and said, dolefully, "Alas! there is then indeed in the subterranean abodes a spirit and image, but there is no body in it."12 The realm of dreams is a world of mystic realities, intangible, yet existent, and all prophetic, through which the soul nightly floats while the gross body slumbers. It is everlasting, because there is nothing in it for corruption to take hold of. The appearances and sounds of that soft inner sphere, veiled so remote from sense, are reflections and echoes from the spirit world. Or are they a direct vision and audience of it? The soul really is native resident in a world of truth, goodness, and beauty, fellow citizen with divine ideas and affections. Through the senses it has knowledge and communion with the hard outer world of matter. When the senses fall away, it is left, imperishable denizen of its own appropriate world of idealities. 11 Schubert, Die Symbolik des Traumes. 12 Iliad, lib. xxiii. ll. 60 106. Another assemblage of views, based on the character of God, form the theological argument for the future existence of man.13 Starting with the idea of a God of infinite perfections, the immortality of his children is an immediate deduction from the eternity of his purposes. For whatever purpose God originally gave man being, for the disinterested distribution of happiness, for the increase of his own glory, or whatever else, will he not for that same purpose continue him in being forever? In the absence of any reason to the contrary, we must so conclude. In view of the unlimited perfections of God, the fact of conscious responsible creatures being created is sufficient warrant of their perpetuity. Otherwise God would be fickle. Or, as one has said, he would be a mere drapery painter, nothing within the dress. Secondly, leaving out of sight this illustration of an eternal purpose in eternal fulfilment, and confining our attention to the analogy of the divine works and the dignity of the divine Worker, we shall be freshly led to the same conclusion. Has God moulded the dead clay of the material universe into gleaming globes and ordered them to fly through the halls of space forever, and has he created, out of his own omnipotence, mental personalities reflecting his own attributes, and doomed them to go out in endless night after basking, poor ephemera, in the sunshine of a momentary life? It is not to be imagined that God ever works in vain. Yet if a single consciousness be extinguished in everlasting nonentity, so far as the production of that consciousness is concerned he has wrought for nothing. His action was in vain, because all is now, to that being, exactly the same as if it had never been. God does nothing in sport or unmeaningly: least of all would he create filial spirits, dignified with the solemn endowments of humanity, without a high and serious end.14 To make men, gifted with such a transcendent largess of powers, wholly mortal, to rot forever in the grave after life's swift day, were work far more unworthy of God than the task was to Michael Angelo set him in mockery by Pietro, the tyrant who succeeded Lorenzo the Magnificent in the dukedom of Florence, that he should scoop up the snow in the Via Larga, and with his highest art mould a statue from it, to dissolve ere night in the glow of the Italian sun. Thirdly, it is an attribute of Infinite Wisdom to proportion powers to results, to adapt instruments to ends with exact fitness. But if we are utterly to die with the ceasing breath, then there is an amazing want of symmetry between our endowments and our opportunity; our attainments are most superfluously superior to our destiny. Can it be that an earth house of six feet is to imprison forever the intellect of a La Place, whose telescopic eye, piercing the unfenced fields of immensity, systematized more worlds than there are grains of dust in this globe? the heart of a Borromeo, whose seraphic love expanded to the limits of sympathetic being? the soul of a Wycliffe, whose undaunted will, in faithful consecration to duty, faced the fires of martyrdom and never blenched? the genius of a Shakspeare, whose imagination exhausted worlds and then invented new? There is vast incongruity between our faculties and the scope given them here. On all it sees below the soul reads "Inadequate," and rises 13 Aebli, Unsterblichkeit der menschlichen Seele, sechster Brief. 14 Ulrici, Unsterblichkeit der menschlichen Seele aus dem Wesen Gottes erwiesen. dissatisfied from every feast, craving, with divine hunger and thirst, the ambrosia and nectar of a fetterless and immortal world. Were we fated to perish at the goal of threescore, God would have harmonized our powers with our lot. He would never have set such magnificent conceptions over against such poor possibilities, nor have kindled so insatiable an ambition for so trivial a prize of dust to dust. Fourthly, one of the weightiest supports of the belief in a future life is that yielded by the benevolence of God. Annihilation is totally irreconcilable with this. That He whose love for his creatures is infinite will absolutely destroy them after their little span of life, when they have just tasted the sweets of existence and begun to know the noble delights of spiritual progress, and while illimitable heights of glory and blessedness are beckoning them, is incredible. We are unable to believe that while his children turn to him with yearning faith and gratitude, with fervent prayer and expectation, he will spurn them into unmitigated night, blotting out those capacities of happiness which he gave them with a virtual promise of endless increase. Will the affectionate God permit humanity, ensconced in the field of being, like a nest of ground sparrows, to be trodden in by the hoof of annihilation? Love watches to preserve life. It were Moloch, not the universal Father, that could crush into death these multitudes of loving souls supplicating him for life, dash into silent fragments these miraculous personal harps of a thousand strings, each capable of vibrating a celestial melody of praise and bliss. Fifthly, the apparent claims of justice afford presumptive proof, hard to be resisted, of a future state wherein there are compensations for the unmerited ills, a complement for the fragmentary experiences, and rectification for the wrongs, of the present life.15 God is just; but he works without impulse or caprice, by laws whose progressive evolution requires time to show their perfect results. Through the brief space of this existence, where the encountering of millions of free intelligences within the fixed conditions of nature causes a seeming medley of good and evil, of discord and harmony, wickedness often triumphs, villany often outreaches and tramples ingenuous nobility and helpless innocence. Some saintly spirits, victims of disease and penury, drag out their years in agony, neglect, and tears. Some bold minions of selfishness, with seared consciences and nerves of iron, pluck the coveted fruits of pleasure, wear the diadems of society, and sweep through the world in pomp. The virtuous suffer undeservedly from the guilty. The idle thrive on the industrious. All these things sometimes happen. In spite of the compensating tendencies which ride on all spiritual laws, in spite of the mysterious Nemesis which is throned in every bosom and saturates the moral atmosphere with influence, the world is full of wrongs, sufferings, and unfinished justice.16 There must be another world, where the remunerating processes interiorly begun here shall be openly consummated. Can it be that Christ and Herod, Paul and Nero, Timour and Fenelon, drop through the blind trap of death into precisely the same condition of unwaking sleep? Not if there be a God! 15 M. Jules Simon, La Religion Naturelle, liv. iii.: l'Immortalite. 16 Dr. Chalmers, Bridgewater Treatise, chap. 10. There is a final assemblage of thoughts pertaining to the likelihood of another life, which, arranged together, may be styled the moral argument in behalf of that belief.17 These considerations are drawn from the seeming fitness of things, claims of parts beseeching completion, vaticinations of experience. They form a cumulative array of probabilities whose guiding forefingers all indicate one truth, whose consonant voices swell into a powerful strain of promise. First, consider the shrinking from annihilation naturally felt in every breast. If man be not destined for perennial life, why is this dread of non existence woven into the soul's inmost fibres? Attractions are co ordinate with destinies, and every normal desire foretells its own fulfilment. Man fades unwillingly from his natal haunts, still longing for a life of eternal remembrance and love, and confiding in it. All over the world grows this pathetic race of forget me nots. Shall not Heaven pluck and wear them on her bosom? Secondly, an emphatic presumption in favor of a second life arises from the premature mortality prevalent to such a fearful extent in the human family. Nearly one half of our race perish before reaching the age of ten years. In that period they cannot have fulfilled the total purposes of their creation. It is but a part we see, and not the whole. The destinies here seen segmentary will appear full circle beyond the grave. The argument is hardly met by asserting that this untimely mortality is the punishment for non observance of law; for, denying any further life, would a scheme of existence have been admitted establishing so awful a proportion of violations and penalties? If there be no balancing sphere beyond, then all should pass through the experience of a ripe and rounded life. But there is the most perplexing inequality. At one fell swoop, infant, sage, hero, reveller, martyr, are snatched into the invisible state. There is, as a noble thinker has said, an apparent "caprice in the dispensation of death strongly indicative of a hidden sequel." Immortality unravels the otherwise inscrutable mystery. Thirdly, the function of conscience furnishes another attestation to the continued existence of man. This vicegerent of God in the breast, arrayed in splendors and terrors, which shakes and illumines the whole circumference of our being with its thunders and lightnings, gives the good man, amidst oppressions and woes, a serene confidence in a future justifying reward, and transfixes the bad man, through all his retinue of guards and panoplied defences, with icy pangs of fear and with a horrid looking for judgment to come. The sublime grandeur of moral freedom, the imperilling dignities of probation, the tremendous responsibilities and hazards of man's felt power and position, are all inconsistent with the supposition that he is merely to cross this petty stage of earth and then wholly expire. Such momentous endowments and exposures imply a corresponding arena and career. After the trial comes the sentence; and that would be as if a palace were built, a prince born, trained, crowned, solely that he might occupy the throne five minutes! The consecrating, royalizing idea of duty cannot be less than the core of eternal life. Conscience is the sensitive corridor along which the mutual whispers of a divine communion pass and repass. A moral law and a free will 17 Crombie, Natural Theology, Essay IV.: The Arguments for Immortality. Bretschneider, Die Religiose Glaubenslehre, sect. 20-21. are the root by which we grow out of God, and the stem by which we are grafted into him. Fourthly, all probable surmisings in favor of a future life, or any other moral doctrine, are based on that primal postulate which, by virtue of our rational and ethical constitution, we are authorized and bound to accept as a commencing axiom, namely, that the scheme of creation is as a whole the best possible one, impelled and controlled by wisdom and benignity. Whatever, then, is an inherent part of the plan of nature cannot be erroneous nor malignant, a mistake nor a curse. Essentially and in the finality, every fundamental portion and element of it must be good and perfect. So far as science and philosophy have penetrated, they confirm by facts this a priori principle, telling us that there is no pure and uncompensated evil in the universe. Now, death is a regular ingredient in the mingled world, an ordered step in the plan of life. If death be absolute, is it not an evil? What can the everlasting deprivation of all good be called but an immense evil to its subject? Such a doom would be without possible solace, standing alone in steep contradiction to the whole parallel moral universe. Then might man utter the most moving and melancholy paradox ever expressed in human speech: "What good came to my mind I did deplore, Because it perish must, and not live evermore." Fifthly, the soul, if not outwardly arrested by some hostile agent, seems capable of endless progress without ever exhausting either its own capacity or the perfections of infinitude.18 There are before it unlimited truth, beauty, power, nobleness, to be contemplated, mastered, acquired. With indefatigable alacrity, insatiable faculty and desire, it responds to the infinite call. The obvious inference is that its destiny is unending advancement. Annihilation would be a sequel absurdly incongruous with the facts. True, the body decays, and all manifested energy fails; but that is the fault of the mechanism, not of the spirit. Were we to live many thousands of years, as Martineau suggests, no one supposes new souls, but only new organizations, would be needed. And what period can we imagine to terminate the unimpeded spirit's abilities to learn, to enjoy, to expand? Kant's famous demonstration of man's eternal life on the grounds of practical reason is similar. The related ideas of absolute virtue and a moral being necessarily imply the infinite progress of the latter towards the former. That progress is impossible except on condition of the continued existence of the same being. Therefore the soul is immortal.19 Sixthly, our whole life here is a steady series of growing preparations for a continued and ascending life hereafter. All the spiritual powers we develop are so much athletic training, all the ideal treasures we accumulate are so many preliminary attainments, for a future life. They have this appearance and superscription. Man alone foreknows his own death and expects a succeeding existence; and that foresight is given to prepare him. There are wondrous impulses in us, constitutional convictions prescient of futurity, like those prevising instincts in birds leading them to take preparatory flights before their actual migration. 18 Addison, Spectator, Nos. 3 and 210. 19 Jacob, Beweis fur die Unsterblichkeit der Seele aus dem Begriffe der Pflicht. Eternity is the stuff of which our love, flying forward, builds its nest in the eaves of the universe. If we saw wings growing out upon a young creature, we should be forced to conclude that he was intended some time to fly. It is so with man. By exploring thoughts, disciplinary sacrifices, supernal prayers, holy toils of disinterestedness, he fledges his soul's pinions, lays up treasures in heaven, and at last migrates to the attracting clime. "Here sits he, shaping wings to fly: His heart forebodes a mystery; He names the name eternity." Seventhly, in the degree these preparations are made in obedience to obscure instincts and the developing laws of experience, they are accompanied by significant premonitions, lucid signals of the future state looked to, assuring witnesses of its reality. The more one lives for immortality, the more immortal things he assimilates into his spiritual substance, the more confirming tokens of a deathless inheritance his faith finds. He becomes conscious of his own eternity.20 When hallowed imagination weighs anchor and spreads sail to coast the dim shores of the other world, it hears cheerful voices of welcome from the headlands and discerns beacons burning in the port. When in earnest communion with our inmost selves, solemn meditations of God, mysterious influences shed from unseen spheres, fall on our souls, and many a "strange thought, transcending our wonted themes, into glory peeps." A vague, constraining sense of invisible beings, by whom we are engirt, fills us. We blindly feel that our rank and destination are with them. Lift but one thin veil, we think, and the occult Universe of Spirit would break to vision with cloudy crowds of angels. Thousand "hints chance dropped from nature's sphere," pregnant with friendly tidings, reassure us. "Strange," said a gifted metaphysician once, "that the barrel organ, man, should terminate every tune with the strain of immortality!" Not strange, but divinely natural. It is the tentative prelude to the thrilling music of our eternal bliss written in the score of destiny. When at night we gaze far out into immensity, along the shining vistas of God's abode, and are almost crushed by the overwhelming prospects that sweep upon our vision, do not some pre monitions of our own unfathomed greatness also stir within us? Yes: "the sense of Existence, the ideas of Right and Duty, awful intuitions of God and immortality, these, the grand facts and substance of the spirit, are independent and indestructible. The bases of the Moral Law, they shall stand in every tittle, although the stars should pass away. For their relations and root are in that which upholds the stars, even with worlds unseen from the finite, whose majestic and everlasting arrangements shall burst upon us as the heavens do through the night when the light of this garish life gives place to the solemn splendors of eternity." Eighthly, the belief in a life beyond death has virtually prevailed everywhere and always. And the argument from universal consent, as it is termed, has ever been esteemed one of the foremost testimonies, if not indeed the most convincing testimony, to the truth of the doctrine. Unless the belief can be shown to be artificial or sinful, it must seem conclusive. Its innocence is self evident, and its naturalness is evidenced by its universality. 20 Theodore Parker, Sermon of Immortal Life. The rudest and the most polished, the simplest and the most learned, unite in the expectation, and cling to it through every thing. It is like the ruling presentiment implanted in those insects that are to undergo metamorphosis. This believing instinct, so deeply seated in our consciousness, natural, innocent, universal, whence came it, and why was it given? There is but one fair answer. God and nature deceive not. Ninthly, the conscious, practical faith of civilized nations, to day, in a future life, unquestionably, in a majority of individuals, rests directly on the basis of authority, trust in a foreign announcement. There are two forms of this authority. The authority of revelation is most prominent and extensive. God has revealed the truth from heaven. It has been exemplified by a miraculous resurrection. It is written in an infallible book, and sealed with authenticating credentials of super natural purport. It is therefore to be accepted with implicit trust. Secondly, with some, the authority of great minds, renowned for scientific knowledge and speculative acumen, goes far. Thousands of such men, ranking among the highest names of history, have positively affirmed the immortality of the soul as a reliable truth. For instance, Goethe says, on occasion of the death of Wieland, "The destruction of such high powers is something which can never, and under no circumstances, even come into question." Such a dogmatic expression of conviction resting on bare philosophical grounds, from a mind so equipped, so acute, and so free, has great weight, and must influence a modest student who hesitates in confessed incompetence.21 The argument is justly powerful when but humanly considered, and when divinely derived, of course, it absolutely forecloses all doubts. Tenthly, there is another life, because a belief in it is necessary to order this world, necessary as a comfort and an inspiration to man now. A good old author writes, "the very nerves and sinews of religion is hope of immortality." The conviction that there is a retributive life hereafter is the moral cement of the social fabric. Take away this truth, and one great motive of patriots, martyrs, thinkers, saints, is gone. Take it away, and to all low minded men selfishness becomes the law, earthly enjoyment the only good, suffering and death the only evil. Life then is to be supremely coveted and never put in risk for any stake. Self indulgence is to be secured at any hazard, little matter by what means. Abandon all hope of a life to come, and "from that instant there is nothing serious in mortality." In order that the world should be governable, ethical, happy, virtuous, magnanimous, is it possible that it should be necessary for the world to believe in an untruth? "So, thou hast immortality in mind? Hast grounds that will not let thee doubt it? The strongest ground herein I find: That we could never do without it!" Finally, the climax of these argumentations is capped by that grand closing consideration which we may entitle the force of congruity, the convincing results of a confluence of harmonious reasons. The hypothesis of immortality accords with the cardinal facts of observation, meets all points of the case, and satisfactorily answers every requirement. 21 Lewis, Influence of Authority in Matters of Opinion. It is the solution of the problem, as the fact of Neptune explained the perturbations of the adjacent planets. Nothing ever gravitates towards nothing; and it must be an unseen orb that so draws our yearning souls. If it be not so, then what terrible contradictions stagger us, and what a chilling doom awaits us! Oh, what mocking irony then runs through the loftiest promises and hopes of the world! Just as the wise and good have learned to live, they disappear amidst the unfeeling waves of oblivion, like snow flakes in the ocean. "The super earthly desires of man are then created in him only, like swallowed diamonds, to cut slowly through his material shell" and destroy him. The denial of a future life introduces discord, grief, and despair in every direction, and, by making each step of advanced culture the ascent to a wider survey of tantalizing glory and experienced sorrow, as well as the preparation for a greater fall and a sadder loss, turns faithful affection and heroic thought into "blind furies slinging flame." Unless immortality be true, man appears a dark riddle, not made for that of which he is made capable and desirous: every thing is begun, nothing ended; the facts of the present scene are unintelligible; the plainest analogies are violated; the delicately rising scale of existence is broken off abrupt; our best reasonings concerning the character and designs of God, also concerning the implications of our own being and experience, are futile; and the soul's proud faculties tell glorious lies as thick as stars. Such, at least, is the usual way of thinking. However formidable a front may be presented by the spectral array of doubts and difficulties, seeming impediments to faith in immortality, the faithful servant of God, equipped with philosophical culture and a saintly life, will fearlessly advance upon them, scatter them right and left, and win victorious access to the prize. So the mariner sometimes, off Sicilian shores, sees a wondrous island ahead, apparently stopping his way with its cypress and cedar groves, glittering towers, vine wreathed balconies, and marble stairs sloping to the water's edge. He sails straight forward, and, severing the pillared porticos and green gardens of Fata Morgana, glides far on over a glassy sea smiling in the undeceptive sun. CHAPTER IV. THEORIES OF THE SOUL'S DESTINATION. BEFORE examining, in their multifarious detail, the special thoughts and fancies respecting a future life prevalent in different nations and times, it may be well to take a sort of bird's eye view of those general theories of the destination of the soul under which all the individual varieties of opinion may be classified. Vast and incongruous as is the heterogeneous mass of notions brought forth by the history of this province of the world's belief, the whole may be systematized, discriminated, and reduced to a few comprehensive heads. Such an architectural grouping or outlining of the chief schemes of thought on this subject will yield several advantages. Showing how the different views arose from natural speculations on the correlated phenomena of the outward world and facts of human experience, it affords an indispensable help towards a philosophical analysis and explanation of the popular faith as to the destiny of man after death, in all the immense diversity of its contents. An orderly arrangement and exposition of these cardinal theories also form an epitome holding a bewildering multitude of particulars in its lucid and separating grasp, changing the fruits of learned investigation from a cumbersome burden on the memory to a small number of connected formularies in the reason. These theories serve as a row of mirrors hung in a line of historic perspective, reflecting every relevant shape and hue of meditation and faith humanity has known, from the ideal visions of the Athenian sage to the instinctive superstitions of the Fejee savage. When we have adequately defined these theories, of which there are seven, traced their origin, comprehended their significance and bearings, and dissected their supporting pretensions, then the whole field of our theme lies in light before us; and, however grotesque or mysterious, simple or subtle, may be the modes of thinking and feeling in relation to the life beyond death revealed in our subsequent researches, we shall know at once where to refer them and how to explain them. The precise object, therefore, of the present chapter is to set forth the comprehensive theories devised to solve the problem, What becomes of man when he dies? But a little while man flourishes here in the bosom of visible nature. Soon he disappears from our scrutiny, missed in all the places that knew him. Whither has he gone? What fate has befallen him? It is an awful question. In comparison with its concentrated interest, all other affairs are childish and momentary. Whenever that solemn question is asked, earth, time, and the heart, natural transformations, stars, fancy, and the brooding intellect, are full of vague oracles. Let us see what intelligible answers can be constructed from their responses. The first theory which we shall consider propounds itself in one terrible word, annihilation. Logically this is the earliest, historically the latest, view. The healthy consciousness, the eager fancy, the controlling sentiment, the crude thought, all the uncurbed instinctive conclusions of primitive human nature, point forcibly to a continued existence for the soul, in some way, when the body shall have perished. And so history shows us in all the savage nations a vivid belief in a future life. But to the philosophical observer, who has by dint of speculation freed himself from the constraining tendencies of desire, faith, imagination, and authority, the thought that man totally ceases with the destruction of his visible organism must occur as the first and simplest settlement of the question.1 The totality of manifested life has absolutely disappeared: why not conclude that the totality of real life has actually lost its existence and is no more? That is the natural inference, unless by some means the contrary can be proved. Accordingly, among all civilized people, every age has had its skeptics, metaphysical disputants who have mournfully or scoffingly denied the separate survival of the soul. This is a necessity in the inevitable sequences of observation and theory; because, when the skeptic, suppressing or escaping his biassed wishes, the trammels of traditional opinion, and the spontaneous convictions prophetic of his own uninterrupted being, first looks over the wide scene of human life and death, and reflectingly asks, What is the sequel of this strange, eventful history? obviously the conclusion suggested by the immediate phenomena is that of entire dissolution and blank oblivion. This result is avoided by calling in the aid of deeper philosophical considerations and of inspiring moral truths. But some will not call in that aid; and the whole superficial appearance of the case regarding that alone, as they then will is fatal to our imperial hopes. The primordial clay claims its own from the disanimated frame; and the vanished life, like the flame of an outburnt taper, has ceased to be. Men are like bubbles or foam flakes on the world's streaming surface: glittering in a momentary ray, they break and are gone, and only the dark flood remains still flowing forward. They are like tones of music, commencing and ending with the unpurposed breath that makes them. Nature is a vast congeries of mechanical substances pervaded by mindless forces of vitality. Consciousness is a production which results from the fermentation and elaboration of unconscious materials; and after a time it deceases, its conditions crumbling into their inorganic grounds again. From the abyss of silence and dust intelligent creatures break forth, shine, and sink back, like meteor flashes in a cloud. The generations of sentient being, like the annual growths of vegetation, by spontaneity of dynamic development, spring from dead matter, flourish through their destined cycle, and relapse into dead matter. The bosom of nature is, therefore, at once the wondrous womb and the magnificent mausoleum of man. Fate, like an iron skeleton seated at the summit of the world on a throne of fresh growing grass and mouldering skulls, presides over all, and annihilation is the universal doom of individual life. Such is the atheistic naturalist's creed. However indefensible or shocking it is, it repeatedly appears in the annals of speculation; and any synopsis of the possible conclusions in which the inquiry into man's destiny may rest that should omit this, would be grossly imperfect. This scheme of disbelief is met by insuperable objections. It excludes some essential elements of the case, confines itself to a wholly empirical view; and consequently the relentless solution it announces applies only to a mutilated problem. To assert the cessation of the soul because its physical manifestations through the body have ceased, is certainly to affirm without just warrant. It would appear impossible for volition and intelligence to 1 Lalande, Dictionnaire des Athees Anciens et Modernes. originate save from a free parent mind. Numerous cogent evidences of design seem to prove the existence of a God by whose will all things are ordered according to a plan. Many powerful impressions and arguments, instinctive, critical, or moral, combine to teach that in the wreck of matter the spirit emerges, deathless, from the closing waves of decay. The confirmation of that truth becomes irresistible when we see how reason and conscience, with delighted avidity, seize upon its adaptedness alike to the brightest features and the darkest defects of the present life, whose imperfect symmetries and segments are harmoniously filled out by the adjusting complement of a future state.2 The next representation of the fate of the soul disposes of it by re absorption into the essence from which it emanated. There is an eternal fountain of unmade life, from which all individual, transient lives flow, and into which they return. This conception arose in the outset from a superficial analogy which must have obtruded itself upon primitive notice and speculation; for man is led to his first metaphysical inquiries by a feeling contemplation of outward phenomena. Now, in the material world, when individual forms perish, each sensible component relapses into its original element and becomes an undistinguishable portion of it. Our exhaled breath goes into the general air and is united with it: the dust of our decaying frames becomes part of the ground and vegetation. So, it is strongly suggested, the lives of things, the souls of men, when they disappear from us, are remerged in the native spirit whence they came. The essential longing of every part for union with its whole is revealed and vocal throughout all nature. Water is sullen in stillness, murmurs in motion, and never ceases its gloom or its complaining until it sleeps in the sea. Like spray on the rock, the stranding generations strike the sepulchre and are dissipated into universal vapor. As lightnings slink back into the charged bosom of the thunder cloud, as eager waves, spent, subside in the deep, as furious gusts die away in the great atmosphere, so the gleaming ranks of genius, the struggling masses of toil, the pompous hosts of war, fade and dissolve away into the peaceful bosom of the all engulfing SOUL. This simplest, earliest philosophy of mankind has had most extensive and permanent prevalence.3 For immemorial centuries it has possessed the mind of the countless millions of India. Baur thinks the Egyptian identification of each deceased person with Osiris and the burial of him under that name, were meant to denote the reception of the individual human life into the universal nature life. The doctrine has been implicitly held wherever pantheism has found a votary, from Anaximander, to whom finite creatures were "disintegrations or decompositions from the Infinite," to Alexander Pope, affirming that "All are but parts of one stupendous whole, Whose body nature is, and God the soul." The first reasoners, who gave such an ineradicable direction and tinge to the thinking of after ages, were furthermore driven to the supposition of a final absorption, from the 2 Drossbach, Die Harmonie der Ergebnisse der Naturforschung mit den Forderungen des Menschlichen Gemuthes. 3 Blount, Anima Mundi; or, The Opinions of the Ancients concerning Man's Soul after this Life. impossibility, in that initiatory stage of thought, of grasping any other theory which would apparently meet the case so well or be more satisfactory. They, of course, had not yet arrived at the idea that God is a personal Spirit whose nature is revealed in the constitutive characteristics of the human soul, and who carries on his works from eternity to eternity without monotonous repetition or wearisome stagnancy, but with perpetual variety in never ceasingmotion. Whatever commences must also terminate, they said, forgetting that number begins with one but has no end. They did not conceive of the universe of being as an eternal line, making immortality desirable for its endless novelty, but imaged it to themselves as a circle, making an everlasting individual consciousness dreadful for its intolerable sameness, an immense round of existence, phenomena, and experience, going forth and returning into itself, over and over, forever and ever. To escape so repulsive a contemplation, they made death break the fencing integument of consciousness and empty all weary personalities into the absolute abyss of being. Again: the extreme difficulty of apprehending the truth of a Creator literally infinite, and of a limitless creation, would lead to the same result in another way. Without doubt, it seemed to the naive thinkers of antiquity, that if hosts of new beings were continually coming into life and increasing the number of the inhabitants of the future state, the fountain from which they proceeded would some time be exhausted, or the universe grow plethoric with population. There would be no more substance below or no more room above. The easiest method of surmounting this problem would be by the hypothesis that all spirits come out of a great World Spirit, and, having run their mortal careers, are absorbed into it again. Many especially the deepest Oriental dreamers have also been brought to solace themselves with this conclusion by a course of reasoning based on the exposures, and assumed inevitable sufferings, of all finite being. They argue that every existence below the absolute God, because it is set around with limitations, is necessarily obnoxious to all sorts of miseries. Its pleasures are only "honey drops scarce tasted in a sea of gall." This conviction, with its accompanying sentiment, runs through the sacred books of the East, is the root and heart of their theology, the dogma that makes the cruelest penances pleasant if a renewed existence may thus be avoided. The sentiment is not alien to human longing and surmise, as witnesses the night thought of the English poet who, world sated, and sadly yearning, cries through the starry gloom to God, "When shall my soul her incarnation quit, And, readopted to thy blest embrace, Obtain her apotheosis in thee?" Having stated and traced the doctrine of absorption, it remains to investigate the justice of its grounds. The doctrine starts from a premise partly true and ends in a conclusion partly false. We emanate from the creative power of God, and are sustained by the in flowing presence of his life, but are not discerptions from his own being, any more than beams of light are distinct substances shot out and shorn off from the sun to be afterwards drawn back and assimilated into the parent orb. We are destined to a harmonious life in his unifying love, but not to be fused and lost as insentient parts of his total consciousness. We are products of God's will, not component atoms of his soul. Souls are to be in God as stars are in the firmament, not as lumps of salt are in a solvent. This view is confirmed by various arguments. In the first place, it is supported by the philosophical distinction between emanation and creation. The conception of creation gives us a personal God who wills to certain ends; that of emanation reduces the Supreme Being to a ghastly array of laws, revolving abysses, galvanic forces, nebular star dust, dead ideas, and vital fluids. According to the latter supposition, finite existences flow from the Infinite as consequences from a principle, or streams from a fountain; according to the former, they proceed as effects from a cause, or thoughts from a mind. That is pantheistic, fatal, and involves absorption by a logical necessity; this is creative, free, and does not presuppose any circling return. Material things are thoughts which God transiently contemplates and dismisses; spiritual creatures are thoughts which he permanently expresses in concrete immortality. The soul is a thought; the body is the word in which it is clothed. Secondly, the analogy which first leads to belief in absorption is falsely interpreted. Taken on its own ground, rightly appreciated, it legitimates a different conclusion. A grain of sand thrown into the bosom of Sahara does not lose its individual existence. Distinct drops are not annihilated as to their simple atoms of water, though sunk in the midst of the sea. The final particles or monads of air or granite are not dissolvingly blended into continuity of unindividualized atmosphere or rock when united with their elemental masses, but are thrust unapproachably apart by molecular repulsion. Now, a mind, being, as we conceive, no composite, but an ultimate unity, cannot be crushed or melted from its integral persistence of personality. Though plunged into the centre of a surrounding wilderness or ocean of minds, it must still retain itself unlost in the multitude. Therefore, if we admit the existence of an inclusive mundane Soul, it by no means follows that lesser souls received into it are deprived of their individuality. It is "one not otherwise than as the sea is one, by a similarity and contiguity of parts, being composed of an innumerable host of distinct spirits, as that is of aqueous particles; and as the rivers continually discharge into the sea, so the vehicular people, upon the disruption of their vehicles, discharge and incorporate into that ocean of spirits making the mundane Soul."4 Thirdly, every consideration furnished by the doctrine of final causes as applied to existing creatures makes us ask, What use is there in calling forth souls merely that they may be taken back again? To justify their creation, the fulfilment of some educative aim, and then the lasting fruition of it, appear necessary. Why else should a soul be drawn from out the unformed vastness, and have its being struck into bounds, and be forced to pass through such appalling ordeals of good and evil, pleasure and agony? An individual of any kind is as important as its race; for it contains in possibility all that its type does. And the purposes of things, so far as we can discern them, the nature of our spiritual constitution, the meaning of our circumstances and probation, the resulting tendencies of our experience, all seem to prophesy, not the destruction, but the perfection and perpetuation, of individual being. 4 Tucker, Light of Nature, Part II. chap. xxii. Fourthly, the same inference is yielded by applying a similar consideration to the Creator. Allowing him consciousness and intentions, as we must, what object could he have either in exerting his creative power or in sending out portions of himself in new individuals, save the production of so many immortal personalities of will, knowledge, and love, to advance towards the perfection of holiness, wisdom, and blessedness, filling his mansions with his children? By thus multiplying his own image he adds to the number of happy creatures who are to be bound together in bands of glory, mutually receiving and returning his affection, and swells the tide of conscious bliss which fills and rolls forever through his eternal universe. Nor, finally, is it necessary to expect personal oblivion in God in order to escape from evil and win exuberant happiness. Those ends are as well secured by the fruition of God's love in us as by the drowning of our consciousness in his plenitude of delight. Precisely herein consists the fundamental distinction of the Christian from the Brahmanic doctrine of human destiny. The Christian hopes to dwell in blissful union with God's will, not to be annihilatingly sunk in his essence. To borrow an illustration from Scotus Erigena,5 as the air when thoroughly illumined by sunshine still keeps its aerial nature and does not become sunshine, or as iron all red in the flame still keeps its metallic substance and does not turn to fire itself, so a soul fully possessed and moved by God does not in consequence lose its own sentient and intelligent being. It is still a bounded entity, though recipient of boundless divinity. Thus evil ceases, each personality is preserved and intensely glorified, and, at the same time, God is all in all. The totality of perfected, enraptured, immortalized humanity in heaven may be described in this manner, adopting the masterly expression of Coleridge: "And as one body seems the aggregate Of atoms numberless, each organized, So, by a strange and dim similitude, Infinite myriads of self conscious minds In one containing Spirit live, who fills With absolute ubiquity of thought All his involved monads, that yet seem Each to pursue its own self centring end." A third mode of answering the question of human destiny is by the conception of a general resurrection. Souls, as fast as they leave the body, are gathered in some intermediate state, a starless grave world, a ghostly limbo. When the present cycle of things is completed, when the clock of time runs down and its lifeless weight falls in the socket, and "Death's empty helmet yawns grimly over the funeral hatchment of the world," the gates of this long barred receptacle of the deceased will be struck open, and its pale prisoners, in accumulated hosts, issue forth, and enter on the immortal inheritance reserved for them. In the sable land of Hades all departed generations are bivouacking in one vast army. On the resurrection morning, striking their shadowy tents, they will scale the walls of the abyss, and, reinvested with their bodies, either plant their banners on the summits of the earth in permanent encampment, or storm the battlements of the sky and colonize heaven with flesh and blood. 5 Philosophy and Doctrines of Erigena, Universalist Quarterly Review, vol. vii. p. 100. All advocates of the doctrine of psychopannychism, or the sleep of souls from death till the last day, in addition to the general body of orthodox Christians, have been supporters of this conclusion.6 Three explanations are possible of the origination of this belief. First, a man musing over the affecting panorama of the seasons as it rolls through the year, budding life alternating with deadly desolation, spring still bringing back the freshness of leaves, flowers, and carolling birds, as if raising them from an annual interment in winter's cold grave, and then thinking of the destiny of his own race, how many generations have ripened and decayed, how many human crops have been harvested from the cradle and planted in the tomb, might naturally especially if he had any thing of the poet's associating and creative mind say to himself, Are we altogether perishable dust, or are we seed sown for higher fields, seed lying dormant now, but at last to sprout into swift immortality when God shall make a new sunshine and dew omnipotently penetrate the dry mould where we tarry? No matter how partial the analogy, how forced the process, how false the result, such imagery would sooner or later occur; and, having occurred, it is no more strange that it should get literal acceptance than it is that many other popular figments should have secured the firm establishment they have. Secondly, a mourner just bereaved of one in whom his whole love was garnered, distracted with grief, his faculties unbalanced, his soul a chaos, is of sorrow and fantasy all compact; and he solaces himself with the ideal embodiment of his dreams, half seeing what he thinks, half believing what he wishes. His desires pass through unconscious volition into supposed facts. Before the miraculous power of his grief wielded imagination the world is fluent, and fate runs in the moulds he conceives. The adored form on which corruption now banquets, he sees again, animated, beaming, clasped in his arms. He cries, It cannot be that those holy days are forever ended, that I shall never more realize the blissful dream in which we trod the sunny world together! Oh, it must be that some time God will give me back again that beloved one! the sepulchre closed so fast shall be unsealed, the dead be restored, and all be as it was before! The conception thus once born out of the delirium of busy thought, anguished love, and regnant imagination, may in various ways win a fixed footing in faith. Thirdly, the notion which we are now contemplating is one link in a chain of thought which, in the course of time and the range of speculation, the theorizing mind could not fail to forge. The concatenation of reflections is this. Death is the separation of soul and body. That separation is repulsive, an evil. Therefore it was not intended by the Infinite Goodness, but was introduced by a foe, and is a foreign, marring element. Finally God will vanquish his antagonist, and banish from the creation all his thwarting interferences with the primitive perfection of harmony and happiness. Accordingly, the souls which Satan has caused to be separated from their bodies are reserved apart until the fulness of time, when there shall be a universal resurrection and restoration. So far as reason is competent to pronounce on this view considered as a sequel to the disembodying doom of man, it is an arbitrary piece of fancy. Philosophy ignores it. Science gives no hint of it. 6 Baumgarten, Beantwortung des Sendschreibens Heyns vom Schlafe der abgeschiedenen Seelen. Chalmers. Astronomical Discourses, iv. It sprang from unwarranted metaphors, perverted, exaggerated, based on analogies not parallel. So far as it assumes to rest on revelation it will be examined in another place. Fourthly, after the notion of a great, epochal resurrection, as a reply to the inquiry, What is to become of the soul? a dogma is next encountered which we shall style that of a local and irrevocable conveyance. The disembodied spirit is conveyed to some fixed region,7 a penal or a blissful abode, where it is to tarry unalterably. This idea of the banishment or admission of souls, according to their deserts, or according to an elective grace, into an anchored location called hell or heaven, a retributive or rewarding residence for eternity, we shall pass by with few words, because it recurs for fuller examination in other chapters. In the first place, the whole picture is a gross simile drawn from occurrences of this outward world and unjustifiably applied to the fortunes of the mind in the invisible sphere of the future. The figment of a judicial transportation of the soul from one place or planet to another, as if by a Charon's boat, is a clattering and repulsive conceit, inadmissible by one who apprehends the noiseless continuity of God's self executing laws. It is a jarring mechanical clash thrust amidst the smooth evolution of spiritual destinies. It compares with the facts as the supposition that the planets are swung around the sun by material chains compares with the law of gravitation. Moral compensation is no better secured by imprisonment or freedom in separate localities than it is, in a common environment, by the fatal working of their interior forces of character, and their relations with all things else. Moreover, these antagonist kingdoms, Tartarean and Elysian, defined as the everlasting habitations of departed souls, have been successively driven, as dissipated visions, from their assumed latitudes and longitudes, one after another, by progressive discovery, until now the intelligent mind knows of no assignable spot for them. Since we are not acquainted with any fixed locations to which the soul is to be carried, to abide there forever in appointed joy or woe, and since there is no scientific necessity nor moral use for the supposition of such places and of the transferrence of the departed to them, we cannot hesitate to reject the associated belief as a deluding mistake. The truth, as we conceive it, is not that different souls are borne by constabulary apparitions to two immured dwellings, manacled and hurried into Tophet or saluted and ushered into Paradise, but that all souls spontaneously pass into one immense empire, drawn therein by their appropriate attractions, to assimilate a strictly discriminative experience. But, as to this, let each thinker form his own conclusion. The fifth view of the destination of the soul may be called the theory of recurrence.8 When man dies, his surviving spirit is immediately born again in a new body. Thus the souls, assigned in a limited number to each world, continually return, each one still forgetful of his previous lives. This seems to be the specific creed of the Druses, who affirm that all souls were created at once, and that the number is unchanged, while they are born over and over. A Druse boy, dreadfully alarmed by the discharge of a gun, on being asked by a Christian the cause of his fear, replied, "I was born murdered;" that is, the soul of a man who had been shot 7 Lange, Das Land der Herrlichkelt. 8 Schmidius, Diss. de Multiplici Animarum Reditu in Corpora. passed into his body at the moment of his birth.9 The young mountaineer would seem, from the sudden violence with which he was snatched out of his old house, to have dragged a trail of connecting consciousness over into his new one. As a general rule, in distinction from such an exception, memory is like one of those passes which the conductors of railroad trains give their passengers, "good for this trip only." The notion of an endless succession of lives on the familiar stage of this dear old world, commencing each with clean wiped tablets, possesses for some minds a fathomless allurement; but others wish for no return pass on their ticket to futurity, preferring an adventurous abandonment "to fresh fields and pastures new," in unknown immensity, to a renewed excursion through landscapes already traversed and experiences drained before. Fourier's doctrine of immortality belongs here. According to his idea, the Great Soul of this globe is a composite being, comprising about ten billions of individual souls. Their connection with this planet will be for nearly eighty thousand years. Then the whole sum of them will swarm to some higher planet, Fourier himself, perhaps, being the old gray gander that will head the flock, pilot king of their flight. Each man is to enjoy about four hundred births on earth, poetic justice leading him successively through all the grades and phases of fortune, from cripplehood and beggary to paragonship and the throne. The invisible residence of spirits and the visible are both on this globe, the former in the Great Soul, the latter in bodies. In the other life the soul becomes a sharer in the woes of the Great Soul, which is as unhappy as seven eighths of the incarnated souls; for its fate is a compound of the fates of the human souls taken collectively. Coming into this outward scene at birth, we lose anew all memory of past existence, but wake up again in the Great Soul with a perfect recollection of all our previous lives both in the invisible and in the visible world. These alternating passages between the two states will continue until the final swooping of total humanity from this exhausted planet in search of a better abode.10 The idea of the recurrence of souls is the simplest means of meeting a difficulty stated thus by the ingenious Abraham Tucker in his "Light of Nature Pursued." "The numbers of souls daily pouring in from hence upon the next world seem to require a proportionable drain from it somewhere or other; for else the country might be overstocked." The objection urged against such a belief from the fact that we do not remember having lived before is rebutted by the assertion that "Some draught of Lethe doth await, As old mythologies relate, The slipping through from state to state." The theory associated with this Lethean draught is confirmed by its responsive correspondence with many unutterable experiences, vividly felt or darkly recognised, in our deepest bosom. It seems as if occasionally the poppied drug or other oblivious antidote 9 Churchill, Mount Lebanon, vol. ii. ch. 12. 10 Fourier, Passions of the Human Soul, (Morell's translation,) Introduction, vol. i. pp. 14-18; also pp. 233-236. administered by nature had been so much diluted that reason, only half baffled, struggles to decipher the dim runes and vestiges of a foregone state; "And ever something is or seems That touches us with mystic gleams, Like glimpses of forgotten dreams." In those excursive reveries, fed by hope and winged with dream, which scour the glens and scale the peaks of the land of thought, this nook of hypothesis must some time be discovered. And, brought to light, it has much to interest and to please; but it is too destitute of tangible proof to be successfully maintained against assault.11 There is another faith as to the fate of souls, best stated, perhaps, in the phrase perpetual migration. The soul, by successive deaths and births, traverses the universe, an everlasting traveller through the rounds of being and the worlds of space, a transient sojourner briefly inhabiting each.12 All reality is finding its way up towards the attracting, retreating Godhead. Minerals tend to vegetables, these to animals, these to men. Blind but yearning matter aspires to spirit, intelligent spirits to divinity. In every grain of dust sleep an army of future generations. As every thing below man gropes upward towards his conscious estate, "the trees being imperfect men, that seem to bemoan their imprisonment, rooted in the ground," so man himself shall climb the illimitable ascent of creation, every step a star. The animal organism is a higher kind of vegetable, whose development begins with those substances with the production of which the life of an ordinary vegetable ends.13 The fact, too, that embryonic man passes through ascending stages undistinguishable from those of lower creatures, is full of meaning. Does it not betoken a preserved epitome of the long history of slowly rising existence? What unplummeted abysses of time and distance intervene from the primary rock to the Victoria Regia! and again from the first crawling spine to the fetterless mind of a Schelling! But, snail pace by snail pace, those immeasurable separations have been bridged over; and so every thing that now lies at the dark basis of dust shall finally reach the transplendent apex of intellect. The objection of theological prejudice to this developing succession of ascents that it is degrading is an unhealthy mistake. Whether we have risen or fallen to our present rank, the actual rank itself is not altered. And in one respect it is better for man to be an advanced oyster than a degraded god; for in the former case the path is upwards, in the latter it is downwards. "We wake," observes a profound thinker, "and find ourselves on a stair: there are other stairs below us, which we seem to have ascended; there are stairs above us, many a one, which go upward and out of sight." Such was plainly the trust of the author of the following exhortation: "Be worthy of death; and so learn to live That every incarnation of thy soul In other realms, and worlds, and firmaments Shall be more pure and high." 11 Bertram, Prufung der Meinung von der Praexistenz der menechlichen Seele. 12 Nurnberger, Still Leben, oder uber die Unsterblichkeit der Seele. 13 Liebig, Animal Chemistry, ch. ix. Bulwer likewise has said, "Eternity may be but an endless series of those emigrations which men call deaths, abandonments of home after home, ever to fairer scenes and loftier heights. Age after age, the spirit that glorious nomad may shift its tent, fated not to rest in the dull Elysium of the heathen, but carrying with it evermore its twin elements, activity and desire." But there is something unsatisfactory, even sad and dreary, in this prospect of incessant migration. Must not the pilgrim pine and tire for a goal of rest? Exhausted with wanderings, sated with experiments, will he not pray for the exempted lot of a contented fruition in repose? One must weary at last of being even so sublime a vagabond as he whose nightly hostelries are stars. And, besides, how will sundered friends and lovers, between whom, on the road, races and worlds interpose, ever over take each other, and be conjoined to journey hand in hand again or build a bower together by the way? A poet of finest mould, in happiest mood, once saw a leaf drop from a tree which overhung a mirroring stream. The reflection of the leaf in the watery sky hollow far below seemed to rise from beneath as swiftly as the object fell from above; and the two, encountering at the surface, became one. Then he sang, touching with his strain the very marrow of deepest human desire, "How speeds, from in the river's thought, The spirit of the leaf that falls, Its heaven in that calm bosom wrought, As mine among yon crimson walls! From the dry bough it spins, to greet Its shadow on the placid river: So might I my companions meet, Nor roam the countless worlds forever!" Moreover, some elements of this theory are too grotesque, are the too rash inferences from a too crude induction, to win sober credit to any extent. It is easy to devise and carry out in consistent descriptive details the hypothesis that the soul has risen, through ten thousand transitions, from the condition of red earth or a tadpole to its present rank, and that, "As it once crawl'd upon the sod, It yet shall grow to be a god;" but what scientific evidence is there to confirm and establish the supposition as a truth? Why, if it be so, to borrow the humorous satire of good old Henry More, "Then it will follow that cold stopping curd And harden'd moldy cheese, when they have rid Due circuits through the heart, at last shall speed Of life and sense, look thorough our thin eyes And view the close wherein the cow did feed Whence they were milk'd: grosse pie crust will grow wise, And pickled cucumbers sans doubt philosophize!" The form of this general outline stalks totteringly on stilts of fancy, and sprawls headlong with a logical crash at the first critical probe. The final theory of the destination of souls, now left to be set forth, may be designated by the word transition.14 It affirms that at death they pass from the separate material worlds, which are their initiating nurseries, into the common spiritual world, which is everywhere present. Thus the visible peoples the invisible, each person in his turn consciously rising from this world's rudimentary darkness to that world's universal light. Dwelling here, free souls, housed in frames of dissoluble clay, "We hold a middle rank 'twixt heaven and earth, On the last verge of mortal being stand, lose to the realm where angels have their birth, Just on the boundaries of the spirit land." Why has God "broken up the solid material of the universe into innumerable little globes, and swung each of them in the centre of an impassable solitude of space," unless it be to train up in the various spheres separate households for final union as a single diversified family in the boundless spiritual world? 15 The surmise is not unreasonable, but recommends itself strongly, that, "If yonder stars be fill'd with forms of breathing clay like ours, Perchance the space which spreads between is for a spirit's powers." The soul encased in flesh is thereby confined to one home, its natal nest; but, liberated at death, it wanders at will, unobstructed, through every world and cerulean deep; and wheresoever it is, there, in proportion to its own capacity and fitness, is heaven and is God.16 All those world spots so thickly scattered through the Yggdrasill of universal space are but the brief sheltering places where embryo intelligences clip their shells, and whence, as soon as fledged through the discipline of earthly teaching and essays, the broodlet souls take wing into the mighty airs of immensity, and thus enter on their eternal emancipation. This conjecture is, of all which have been offered yet, perhaps the completest, least perplexed, best recommended by its harmony with our knowledge and our hope. And so one might wish to rest in it with humble trust. The final destiny of an immortal soul, after its transition into the other world, must be either unending progress towards infinite perfection, or the reaching of its perihelion at last and then revolving in uninterrupted fruition. In the former case, pursuing an infinite aim, with each degree of its attainment the flying goal still recedes. In the latter case, it will in due season touch its bound and there be satisfied, "When weak Time shall be pour'd out Into Eternity, and circular joys Dance in an endless round." 14 Taylor, Physical Theory of Another Life, ch. xii. 15 Taylor, Saturday Evening, pp. 95-111. 16 Taylor, Physical Theory of Another Life, ch. xvii. This result seems the more probable of the two; for the assertion of countless decillions of personalities all progressing beyond every conceivable limit, on, still on, forever, is incredible. If endless linear progress were the destiny of each being, the whole universe would at last become a line! And though it is true that the idea of an ever novel chase attracts and refreshes the imagination, while the idea of a monotonous revolution repels and wearies it, this is simply because we judge after our poor earthly experience and its flagging analogies. It will not be so if that revolution is the vivid realization of all our being's possibilities. Annihilation, absorption, resurrection, conveyance, recurrence, migration, transition, these seven answers to the question of our fate, and of its relation to the course of nature, are thinkable in words. We may choose from among them, but can construct no real eighth. First, there is a constant succession of growth and decay. Second, there is a perpetual flow and ebb of personal emanation and impersonal resumption. Third, there is a continual return of the same persistent entities. Fourth, all matter may be sublimated to spirit, and souls alone remain to occupy boundless space. Fifth, the power of death may cease, all the astronomic orbs be populated and enjoyed, each by one generation of everlasting inhabitants, the present order continuing in each earth until enough have lived to fill it, then all of them, physically restored, dwelling on it, with no more births or deaths. Sixth, if matter be not transmutable to soul, when that peculiar reality from which souls are developed is exhausted, and the last generation of incarnated beings have risen from the flesh, the material creation may, in addition to the inter stellar region, be eternally appropriated by the spirit races to their own free range and use, through adaptations of faculty unknown to us now; else it may vanish as a phantasmal spectacle. Or, finally, souls may be absolutely created out of nothing by the omnipotence of God, and the universe may be infinite: then the process may proceed forever. But men's beliefs are formed rather by the modes of thought they have learned to adopt than by any proofs they have tested; not by argumentation about a subject, but by the way of looking at it. The moralist regards all creation as the work of a personal God, a theatre of moral ends, a just Providence watching over the parts, and the conscious immortality of the actors an inevitable accompaniment. The physicist contemplates the universe as constituted of atoms of attraction and repulsion, which subsist in perfect mobility through space, but are concreted in the molecular masses of the planets. The suns are vast engines for the distribution of heat or motion, the equivalent of all kinds of force. This, in its diffusion, causes innumerable circulations and combinations of the original atoms. Organic growth, life, is the fruition of a force derived from the sun. Decay, death, is the rendering up of that force in its equivalents. Thus, the universe is a composite unity of force, a solidarity of ultimate unities which are indestructible, though in constant circulation of new groupings and journeys. To the religious faith of the moralist, man is an eternal person, reaping what he has sowed. To the speculative intellect of the physicist, man is an atomic force, to be liberated into the ethereal medium until again harnessed in some organism. In both cases he is immortal: but in that, as a free citizen of the ideal world; in this, as a flying particle of the dynamic immensity. PART SECOND. ETHNIC THOUGHTS CONCERNING A FUTURE LIFE. CHAPTER I. BARBARIAN NOTIONS OF A FUTURE LIFE. PROCEEDING now to give an account of the fancies and opinions in regard to a future life which have been prevalent, in different ages, in various nations of the earth, it will be best to begin by presenting, in a rapid series, some sketches of the conceits of those uncivilized tribes who did not so far as our knowledge reaches possess a doctrine sufficiently distinctive and full, or important enough in its historical relations, to warrant a detailed treatment in separate chapters. We will glance first at the negroes. According to all accounts, while there are, among the numerous tribes, diversities and degrees of superstition, there is yet, throughout the native pagan population of Africa, a marked general agreement of belief in the survival of the soul, in spectres, divination, and witchcraft; and there is a general similarity of funeral usages. Early travellers tell us that the Bushmen conceived the soul to be immortal, and as impalpable as a shadow, and that they were much afraid of the return of deceased spirits to haunt them. They were accustomed to pray to their departed countrymen not to molest them, but to stay away in quiet. They also employed exorcisers to lay these ill omened ghosts. Meiners relates of some inhabitants of the Guinea coast that their fear of ghosts and their childish credulity reached such a pitch that they threw their dead into the ocean, in the expectation of thus drowning soul and body together. Superstitions as gross and lawless still have full sway. Wilson, whose travels and residence there for twenty years have enabled him to furnish the most reliable information, says, in his recent work,1 "A native African would as soon doubt his present as his future state of being." Every dream, every stray suggestion of the mind, is interpreted, with unquestioning credence, as a visit from the dead, a whisper from a departed soul. If a man wakes up with pains in his bones or muscles, it is because his spirit has wandered abroad in the night and been flogged by some other spirit. On certain occasions the whole community start up at midnight, with clubs, torches, and hideous yells, to drive the evil spirits out of the village. They seem to believe that the souls of dead men take rank with good or bad spirits, as they have themselves been good or bad in this life. They bury with the deceased clothing, ornaments, utensils, 1 Western Africa, ch. xii. and statedly convey food to the grave for the use of the revisiting spirit. With the body of king Weir of the Cavalla towns, who was buried in December of 1854, in presence of several missionaries, was interred a quantity of rice, palm oil, beef, and rum: it was supposed the ghost of the sable monarch would come back and consume these articles. The African tribes, where their notions have not been modified by Christian or by Mohammedan teachings, appear to have no definite idea of a heaven or of a hell; but future reward or punishment is considered under the general conception of an association, in the disembodied state, with the benignant or with the demoniacal powers. The New Zealanders imagine that the souls of the dead go to a place beneath the earth, called Reinga. The path to this region is a precipice close to the sea shore at the North Cape. It is said that the natives who live in the neighborhood can at night hear sounds caused by the passing of spirits thither through the air. After a great battle they are thus warned of the event long before the news can arrive by natural means.2 It is a common superstition with them that the left eye of every chief, after his death, becomes a star. The Pleiades are seven New Zealand chiefs, brothers, who were slain together in battle and are now fixed in the sky, one eye of each, in the shape of a star, being the only part of them that is visible. It has been observed that the mythological doctrine of the glittering host of heaven being an assemblage of the departed heroes of earth never received a more ingenious version.3 Certainly it is a magnificent piece of insular egotism. It is noticeable here that, in the Norse mythology, Thor, having slain Thiasse, the giant genius of winter, throws his eyes up to heaven, and they become stars. Shungie, a celebrated New Zealand king, said he had on one occasion eaten the left eye of a great chief whom he had killed in battle, for the purpose of thus increasing the glory of his own eye when it should be transferred to the firmament. Sometimes, apparently, it was thought that there was a separate immortality for each of the eyes of the dead, the left ascending to heaven as a star, the right, in the form of a spirit, taking flight for Reinga. The custom, common in Africa and in New Zealand, of slaying the slaves or the wives of an important person at his death and burying them with him, prevails also among the inhabitants of the Feejee Islands. A chief's wives are sometimes strangled on these occasions, sometimes buried alive. One cried to her brother, "I wish to die, that I may accompany my husband to the land where he has gone. Love me, and make haste to strangle me, that I may overtake him."4 Departing souls go to the tribunal of Ndengei, who either receives them into bliss, or sends them back, as ghosts, to haunt the scenes of their former existence, or distributes them as food to devils, or imprisons them for a period and then dooms them to annihilation. The Feejees are also very much afraid of Samiulo, ruler of a subterranean world, who sits at the brink of a huge fiery cavern, into which he hurls the souls he dislikes. In the road to Ndengei stands an enormous giant, armed with an axe, who tries to maim and murder the passing souls. A powerful chief, whose gun was interred with him, loaded it, and, when 2 Shortland, Traditions of the New Zealanders, ch. vii. 3 Library of Ent. Knowl.: The New Zealanders, pp. 223-237. 4 Wilkes, Narrative of the U. S. Exploring Expedition, vol. iii. ch. 3. he came near the giant, shot at him, and ran by while the monster was dodging the bullet. The people of the Sandwich Islands held a confused medley of notions as to another life. In different persons among them were found, in regard to this subject, superstitious terror, blank indifference, positive unbelief. The current fancy was that the souls of the chiefs were led, by a god whose name denotes the "eyeball of the sun," to a life in the heavens, while plebeian souls went down to Akea, a lugubrious underground abode. Some thought spirits were destroyed in this realm of darkness; others, that they were eaten by a stronger race of spirits there; others still, that they survived there, subsisting upon lizards and butterflies.5 What a piteous life they must have led here whose imaginations could only soar to a future so unattractive as this! The Kamtschadales send all the dead alike to a subterranean elysium, where they shall find again their wives, clothes, tools, huts, and where they shall fish and hunt. All is there as here, except that there are no fire spouting mountains, no bogs, streams, inundations, and impassable snows; and neither hunting nor fishing is ever pursued in vain there. This lower paradise is but a beautified Kamtschatka, freed from discommoding hardships and cleansed of tormenting Cossacks and Russians. They have no hell for the rectification of the present wrong relations of virtue and misery, vice and happiness. The only distinction they appear to make is that all who in Kamtschatka are poor, and have few small and weak dogs, shall there be rich and be furnished with strong and fat dogs. The power of imagination is very remarkable in this raw people, bringing the future life so near, and awakening such an impatient longing for it and for their former companions that they often, the sooner to secure a habitation there, anticipate the natural time of their death by suicide.6 The Esquimaux betray the influence of their clime and habits, in the formation of their ideas of the life to come, as plainly as the Kamtschadales do. The employments and enjoyments of their future state are rude and earthy. They say the soul descends through successive places of habitation, the first of which is full of pains and horrors. The good, that is, the courageous and skilful, those who have endured severe hardships and mastered many seals, passing through this first residence, find that the other mansions regularly improve. They finally reach an abode of perfect satisfaction, far beneath the storms of the sea, where the sun is never obscured by night, and where reindeer wander in great droves beside waters that never congeal, and wherein the whale, the walrus, and the best sea fowls always abound.7 Hell is deep, but heaven deeper still. Hell, they think, is among the roots, rocks, monsters, and cold of the frozen or vexed and suffering waters; but "Beneath tempestuous seas and fields of ice Their creed has placed a lowlier paradise." The Greenlanders, too, located their elysium beneath the abysses of the ocean, where the good Spirit Torngarsuk held his reign in a happy and eternal summer. The wizards, who pretended to visit this region at will, described the disembodied souls as pallid, and, if one 5 Jarves, Hist. of the Sandwich Islands, p. 42. 6 Christoph Meiners, Vermischte Philosophische Schriften, 169-173. 7 Prichard, Physical Hist. of Mankind, vol. i. ch. 2. sought to seize them, unsubstantial.8 Some of these people, however, fixed the site of paradise in the sky, and regarded the aurora borealis as the playing of happy souls. So Coleridge pictures the Laplander "Marking the streamy banners of the North, And thinking he those spirits soon should join Who there, in floating robes of rosy light, Dance sportively." But others believed this state of restlessness in the clouds was the fate only of the worthless, who were there pinched with hunger and plied with torments. All agreed in looking for another state of existence, where, under diverse circumstances, happiness and misery should be awarded, in some degree at least, according to desert.9 The Peruvians taught that the reprobate were sentenced to a hell situated in the centre of the earth, where they must endure centuries of toil and anguish. Their paradise was away in the blue dome of heaven. There the spirits of the worthy would lead a life of tranquil luxury. At the death of a Peruvian noble his wives and servants frequently were slain, to go with him and wait on him in that happy region.10 Many authors, including Prescott, yielding too easy credence to the very questionable assertions of the Spanish chroniclers, have attributed to the Peruvians a belief in the resurrection of the body. Various travellers and writers have also predicated this belief of savage nations in Central Africa, of certain South Sea islanders, and of several native tribes in North America. In all these cases the supposition is probably erroneous, as we think for the following reasons. In the first place, the idea of a resurrection of the body is either a late conception of the associative imagination, or else a doctrine connected with a speculative theory of recurring epochs in the destiny of the world; and it is in both instances too subtle and elaborate for an uncultivated people. Secondly, in none of the cases referred to has any reliable evidence been given of the actual existence of the belief in question. It has merely been inferred, by persons to whose minds the doctrine was previously familiar, from phenomena by no means necessarily implying it. For example, a recent author ascribes to the Feejees the belief that there will be a resurrection of the body just as it was at the time of death. The only datum on which he founds this astounding assertion is that they often seem to prefer to die in the full vigor of manhood rather than in decrepit old age! 11 Thirdly, we know that the observation and statements of the Spanish monks and historians, in regard to the religion of the pagans of South America, were of the most imperfect and reckless character. They perpetrated gross frauds, such as planting in the face of high precipices white stones in the shape of the cross, and then pointing to them in proof of their assertion that, before the Christians came, the Devil had here parodied the rites and doctrines of the gospel. 12 They said the Mexican goddess, wife of the sun, was Eve, or 8 Egede, Greenland, ch. 18. 9 Dr. Karl Andree, Gronland. 10 Prescott, Conquest of Peru, vol. i. ch. 3. 11 Erskine, Islands of the Western Pacific, p. 248. 12 Schoolcraft, History, &c. of the Indian Tribes, part v. p. 93. the Virgin Mary, and Quetzalcoatl was St. Thomas! 13 Such affirmers are to be cautiously followed. Finally, it is a quite significant fact that while some point to the pains which the Peruvians took in embalming their dead as a proof that they looked for a resurrection of the body, Acosta expressly says that they did not believe in the resurrection, and that this unbelief was the cause of their embalming.14 Garcilaso de la Vega, in his "Royal Commentaries of the Peruvian Incas," says that when he asked some Peruvians why they took so great care to preserve in the cemeteries of the dead the nails and hair which had been cut off, they replied that in the day of resurrection the dead would come forth with whatever of their bodies was left, and there would be too great a press of business in that day for them to afford time to go hunting round after their hair and nails.15 The fancy of a Christian is too plain here. If the answer were really made by the natives, they were playing a joke on their credulous questioner, or seeking to please him with distorted echoes of his own faith. The conceits as to a future life entertained by the Mexicans varied considerably from those of their neighbors of Peru. Souls neither good nor bad, or whose virtues and vices balanced each other, were to enter a medium state of idleness and empty content. The wicked, or those dying in any of certain enumerated modes of death, went to Mictlan, a dismal hell within the earth. The souls of those struck by lightning, or drowned, or dying by any of a given list of diseases, also the souls of children, were transferred to a remote elysium, Tlalocan. There was a place in the chief temple where, it was supposed, once a year the spirits of all the children who had been sacrificed to Tlaloc invisibly came and assisted in the ceremonies. The ultimate heaven was reserved for warriors who bravely fell in battle, for women who died in labor, for those offered up in the temples of the gods, and for a few others. These passed immediately to the house of the sun, their chief god, whom they accompanied for a term of years, with songs, dances, and revelry, in his circuit around the sky. Then, animating the forms of birds of gay plumage, they lived as beautiful songsters among the flowers, now on earth, now in heaven, at their pleasure.16 It was the Mexican custom to dress the dead man in the garb appropriated to the guardian deity of his craft or condition in life. They gave him a jug of water. They placed with him slips of paper to serve as passports through guarded gates and perilous defiles in the other world. They made a fire of his clothes and utensils, to warm the shivering soul while traversing a region of cold winds beyond the grave.17 The following sentence occurs in a poem composed by one of the old Aztec monarchs: "Illustrious nobles, loyal subjects, let us aspire to that heaven where all is eternal and corruption cannot come. The horrors of the tomb are but the cradle of the sun, and the shadows of death are brilliant lights for the stars." 18 13 Squier, Serpent Symbol in America, p. 13. 14 Acosta, Natural and Moral History of the Indies, book v. ch. 7. 15 Book ii. ch. 7. 16 Clavigero, History of Mexico, book vi. sect. 1. 17 Prescott, Conquest of Mexico, vol. i. ch. 6. 18 Ibid. sect. 39. Amidst the mass of whimsical conceptions entering into the faith of the widely spread tribes of North America, we find a ruling agreement in the cardinal features of their thought concerning a future state of existence. In common with nearly all barbarous nations, they felt great fear of apparitions. The Sioux were in the habit of addressing the deceased at his burial, and imploring him to stay in his own place and not come to distress them. Their funeral customs, too, from one extremity of the continent to the other, were very much alike. Those who have reported their opinions to us, from the earliest Jesuit missionaries to the latest investigators of their mental characteristics, concur in ascribing to them a deep trust in a life to come, a cheerful view of its conditions, and a remarkable freedom from the dread of dying. Charlevoix says, "The best established opinion among the natives is the immortality of the soul." On the basis of an account written by William Penn, Pope composed the famous passage in his "Essay on Man:" Lo! the poor Indian, whose untutor'd mind Sees God in clouds and hears him in the wind. His soul proud Science never taught to stray Far as the solar walk or milky way: Yet simple nature to his faith hath given, Behind the cloud topp'd hill, an humbler heaven, Some safer world in depth of woods embraced, Or happier island in the watery waste. To be, contents his natural desire: He asks no angel's wing, no seraph's fire, But thinks, admitted to that equal sky, His faithful dog shall bear him company." Their rude instinctive belief in the soul's survival, and surmises as to its destiny, are implied in their funeral rites, which, as already stated, were, with some exceptions, strikingly similar even in the remotest tribes.19 In the bark coffin, with a dead Indian the Onondagas buried a kettle of provisions, a pair of moccasins, a piece of deer skin and sinews of the deer to sew patches on the moccasins, which it was supposed the deceased would wear out on his journey. They also furnished him with a bow and arrows, a tomahawk and knife, to procure game with to live on while pursuing his way to the land of spirits, the blissful regions of Ha wah ne u.20 Several Indian nations, instead of burying the food, suspended it above the grave, and renewed it from time to time. Some writers have explained this custom by the hypothesis of an Indian belief in two souls, one of which departed to the realm of the dead, while the other tarried by the mound until the body was decayed, or until it had itself found a chance to be born in a new body.21 The supposition seems forced and extremely doubtful. The truth probably lies in a simpler explanation, which will be offered further on. 19 Baumgarten, Geschichte der Volker von America, xiii. haupts.: vom Tod, Vergribniss, und Trauer. 20 Clarke, Onondaga, vol. l. p. 51. 21 Muller, Geschichte der Amerikanischen Urreligionen, sect. 66. The Winnebagoes located paradise above, and called the milky way the "Road of the Dead." 22 It was so white with the crowds of journeying ghosts! But almost all, like the Ojibways, imagined their elysium to lie far in the West. The soul, freed from the body, follows a wide beaten path westward, and enters a country abounding with all that an Indian covets. On the borders of this blessed land, in a long glade, he finds his relatives, for many generations back, gathered to welcome him.23 The Chippewas, and several other important tribes, always kindled fires on the fresh graves of their dead, and kept them burning four successive nights, to light the wandering souls on their way.24 An Indian myth represents the ghosts coming back from Ponemah, the land of the Hereafter, and singing this song to the miraculous Hiawatha: "Do not lay such heavy burdens On the graves of those you bury, Not such weight of furs and wampum, Not such weight of pots and kettles; For the spirits faint beneath them. Only give them food to carry, Only give them fire to light them. Four days is the spirit's journey To the land of ghosts and shadows, Four its lonely night encampments. Therefore, when the dead are buried, Let a fire, as night approaches, Four times on the grave be kindled, That the soul upon its journey May not grope about in darkness." 25 The subject of a future state seems to have been by far the most prominent one in the Indian imagination. They relate many traditions of persons who have entered it, and returned, and given descriptions of it. A young brave, having lost his betrothed, determined to follow her to the land of souls. Far South, beyond the region of ice and snows, he came to a lodge standing before the entrance to wide blue plains. Leaving his body there, he embarked in a white stone canoe to cross a lake. He saw the souls of wicked Indians sinking in the lake; but the good gained an elysian shore, where all was warmth, beauty, ease, and eternal youth, and where the air was food. The Master of Breath sent him back, but promised that he might at death return and stay. 26 The Wyandots tell of a dwarf, Tcha ka bech, who climbed a tree which grew higher as often as he blew on it. At last he reached heaven, and discovered it to be an excellent place. He descended the tree, building wigwams at intervals in the branches. He then returned with his sister and nephew, resting each night in one of the wigwams. 22 Schoolcraft, History, &c. of the Indian Tribes, part iv. p. 240. 23 Ibid. part ii. p. 135. 24 Ibid. part v. p. 64; part iv. p. 55. 25 Longfellow, Song of Hiawatha, xix.: The Ghosts. 26 Schoolcraft, Indian in his Wigwam. p 79. He set his traps up there to catch animals. Rising in the night to go and examine his traps, he saw one all on fire, and, upon approaching it, found that he had caught the sun! Where the Indian is found believing in a Devil and a hell, it is the result of his intercourse with Europeans. These elements of horror were foreign to his original religion.27 There are in some quarters faint traces of a single purgatorial or retributive conception. It is a representation of paradise as an island, the ordeal consisting in the passage of the dark river or lake which surrounds it. The worthy cross with entire facility, the unworthy only after tedious struggles. Some say the latter are drowned; others, that they sink up to their chins in the water, where they pass eternity in vain desires to attain the alluring land on which they gaze.28 Even this notion may be a modification consequent upon European influence. At all events, it is subordinate in force and only occasional in occurrence. For the most part, in the Indian faith mercy swallows up the other attributes of the Great Spirit. The Indian dies without fear, looking for no punishments, only for rewards.29 He regards the Master of Breath not as a holy judge, but as a kind father. He welcomes death as opening the door to a sweet land. Ever charmingly on his closing eyes dawns the prospect of the aboriginal elysium, a gorgeous region of soft shades, gliding streams, verdant groves waving in gentle airs, warbling birds, herds of stately deer and buffalo browsing on level plains. It is the earth in noiseless and solemn metamorphosis.30 We shall conclude this chapter by endeavoring to explain the purport and origin of the principal ceremonies and notions which have now been set forth pertaining to the disembodied state. The first source of these particulars is to be sought, not in any clear mental perceptions, or conscious dogmatic belief, but in the natural workings of affection, memory, and sentiment. Among almost every people, from the Chinese to the Araucanians, from the Ethiopians to the Dacotahs, rites of honor have been paid to the dead, various offerings have been placed at their graves. The Vedas enjoin the offering of a cake to the ghosts of ancestors back to the third generation. The Greeks were wont to pour wine, oil, milk, and blood into canals made in the graves of their dead. The early Christians adopted these "Feasts of the Dead" as Augustine and Tertullian call them from the heathen, and Celebrated them over the graves of their martyrs and of their other deceased friends. Such customs as these among savages like the Shillooks or the Choctaws are usually supposed to imply the belief that the souls of the deceased remain about the places of sepulture and physically partake of the nourishment thus furnished. The interpretation is farther fetched than need be, and is unlikely; or, at all events, if it be true in some cases, it is not the whole truth. In the first place, these people see that the food and drink remain untouched, the weapons and utensils are left unused in the grave. Secondly, there are often certain features in the barbaric ritual obviously metaphorical, incapable of literal acceptance. For instance, the Winnebagoes light a small fire on the grave of a deceased warrior to light him on his journey to the land of souls, 27 Loskiel, Hist. Mission of United Brethren to N. A. Indians, part i. ch. 3. 28 Schoolcraft, Indian in his Wigwam, p. 202. History, &c. of Indian Tribes, part iv. p. 173. 29 Schoolcraft, History of Indian Tribes, part ii. p. 68. 30 Ibid. pp. 403, 404. although they say that journey extends to a distance of four days and nights and is wholly invisible. They light and tend that watch fire as a memorial of their departed companion and a rude expression of their own emotions; as an unconscious emblem of their own struggling faith, not as a beacon to the straying ghost. Again, the Indian mother, losing a nursing infant, spurts some of her milk into the fire, that the little spirit may not want for nutriment on its solitary path.31 Plato approvingly quotes Hesiod's statement that the souls of noble men become guardian demons coursing the air, messengers and agents of the gods in the world. Therefore, he adds, "we should reverence their tombs and establish solemn rites and offerings there;" though by his very statement these places were not the dwellings or haunts of the freely circuiting spirits.32 Not by an intellectual doctrine, but by an instinctive association, when not resisted and corrected, we connect the souls of the dead in our thoughts with the burial places of their forms. The New Zealand priests pretend by their spells to bring wandering souls within the enclosed graveyards.33 These sepulchral folds are full of ghosts. A sentiment native to the human breast draws pilgrims to the tombs of Shakspeare and Washington, and, if not restrained and guided by cultivated thought, would lead them to make offerings there. Until the death of Louis XV., the kings of France lay in state and were served as in life for forty days after they died.34 It would be ridiculous to attempt to wring any doctrinal significance from these customs. The same sentiment which, in one form, among the Alfoer inhabitants of the Arru Islands, when a man dies, leads his relatives to assemble and destroy whatever he has left, which, in another form, causes the Papist to offer burning candles, wreaths, and crosses, and to recite prayers, before the shrines of the dead saints, which, in still another form, moved Albert Durer to place all the pretty playthings of his child in the coffin and bury them with it, this same sentiment, in its undefined spontaneous workings, impelled the Peruvian to embalm his dead, the Blackfoot to inter his brave's hunting equipments with him, and the Cherokee squaw to hang fresh food above the totem on her husband's grave post. What should we think if we could foresee that, a thousand years hence, when the present doctrines and customs of France and America are forgotten, some antiquary, seeking the reason why the mourners in Pere la Chaise and Mount Auburn laid clusters of flowers on the graves of their lamented ones, should deliberately conclude that it was believed the souls remained in the bodies in the tomb and enjoyed the perfume of the flowers? An American traveller, writing from Vienna on All Saints' Day, in 1855, describes the avenues of the great cemetery filled with people hanging festoons of flowers on the tombstones, and placing burning candles of wax on the graves, and kneeling in devotion; it being their childish belief, he says, that their prayers on this day have efficacy to release their deceased relatives from purgatory, and that the dim taper flickering on the sod lights the unbound soul to its heavenly home. Of course these rites are not literal expressions of literal beliefs, but are 31 Andree, North America, p. 246. 32 Republic, book v. ch. 15. 33 R. Taylor, New Zealand, ch. 7. 34 Meiners, Kritische Geschichte der Religionen, buch iii. absch. 1. symbols of ideas, emblems of sentiments, figurative and inadequate shadows of a theological doctrine, although, as is well known, there is, among the most ignorant persons, scarcely any deliberately apprehended distinction between image and entity, material representation and spiritual verity. If a member of the Oneida tribe died when they were away from home, they buried him with great solemnity, setting a mark over the grave; and whenever they passed that way afterwards they visited the spot, singing a mournful song and casting stones upon it, thus giving symbolic expression to their feelings. It would be absurd to suppose this song an incantation to secure the repose of the buried brave, and the stones thrown to prevent his rising; yet it would not be more incredible or more remote from the facts than many a commonly current interpretation of barbarian usages. An amusing instance of error well enforcing the need of extreme caution in drawing inferences is afforded by the example of those explorers who, finding an extensive cemetery where the aborigines had buried all their children apart from the adults, concluded they had discovered the remains of an ancient race of pigmies! 35 The influence of unspeculative affection, memory, and sentiment goes far towards accounting for the funeral ritual of the barbarians. But it is not sufficient. We must call in further aid; and that aid we find in the arbitrary conceits, the poetic associations, and the creative force of unregulated fancy and imagination. The poetic faculty which, supplied with materials by observation and speculation, constructed the complex mythologies of Egypt and Greece, and which, turning on its own resources, composed the Arabian tales of the genii and the modern literature of pure fiction, is particularly active, fertile, and tyrannical, though in a less continuous and systematic form, in the barbarian mind. Acting by wild fits and starts, there is no end to the extravagant conjectures and visions it bodies forth. Destitute of philosophical definitions, totally unacquainted with critical distinctions or analytic reflection, absurd notions, sober convictions, dim dreams, and sharp perceptions run confusedly together in the minds of savages. There is to them no clear and permanent demarcation between rational thoughts and crazy fancies. Now, no phenomenon can strike more deeply or work more powerfully in human nature, stirring up the exploring activities of intellect and imagination, than the event of death, with its bereaving stroke and prophetic appeal. Accordingly, we should expect to find among uncultivated nations, as we actually do, a vast medley of fragmentary thoughts and pictures plausible, strange, lovely, or terrible relating to the place and fate of the disembodied soul. These conceptions would naturally take their shaping and coloring, in some degree, from thescenery, circumstances, and experience amidst which they were conceived and born. Sometimes these figments were consciously entertained as wilful inventions, distinctly contemplated as poetry. Sometimes they were superstitiously credited in all their grossness with full assent of soul. Sometimes all coexisted in vague bewilderment. These lines of separation unquestionably existed: the difficulty is to know where, in given instances, to draw them. A few examples will serve at once to illustrate the 35 Smithsonian Contributions, vol. ii. Squier's Aboriginal Monuments, appendix, pp. 127-131. operation of the principle now laid down, and to present still further specimens of the barbarian notions of a future life. Some Indian tribes made offerings to the spirits of their departed heroes by casting the boughs of various trees around the ash, saying that the branches of this tree were eloquent with the ghosts of their warrior sires, who came at evening in the chariot of cloud to fire the young to deeds of war.36 There is an Indian legend of a witch who wore a mantle composed of the scalps of murdered women. Taking this off, she shook it, and all the scalps uttered shrieks of laughter. Another describes a magician scudding across a lake in a boat whose ribs were live rattlesnakes.37 An exercise of mind virtually identical with that which gave these strokes made the Philippine Islanders say that the souls of those who die struck by lightning go up the beams of the rainbow to a happy place, and animated Ali to declare that the pious, on coming out of their sepulchres, shall find awaiting them white winged camels with saddles of gold. The Ajetas suspended the bow and arrows of a deceased Papuan above his grave, and conceived him as emerging from beneath every night to go a hunting.38 The fisherman on the coast of Lapland was interred in a boat, and a flint and combustibles were given him to light him along the dark cavernous passage he was to traverse. The Dyaks of Borneo believe that every one whose head they can get possession of here will in the future state be their servant: consequently, they make a business of "head hunting," accumulating the ghastly visages of their victims in their huts.39 The Caribs have a sort of sensual paradise for the "brave and virtuous," where, it is promised, they shall enjoy the sublimated experience of all their earthly satisfactions; but the "degenerate and cowardly" are threatened with eternal banishment beyond the mountains, where they shall be tasked and driven as slaves by their enemies.40 The Hispaniolians locate their elysium in a pleasant valley abounding with guava, delicious fruits, cool shades, and murmuring rivulets, where they expect to live again with their departed ancestors and friends.41 The Patagonians say the stars are their translated countrymen, and the milky way is a field where the departed Patagonians hunt ostriches. Clouds are the feathers of the ostriches they kill.42 The play is here seen of the same mythological imagination which, in Italy, pictured a writhing giant beneath Mount Vesuvius, and, in Greenland, looked on the Pleiades as a group of dogs surrounding a white bear, and on the belt of Orion as a company of Greenlanders placed there because they could not find the way to their own country. Black Bird, the redoubtable chief of the O Ma Haws, when dying, said to his people, "Bury me on yonder lofty bluff on the banks of the Missouri, where I can see the men and boats passing by on the river." 43 Accordingly, as soon as he ceased 36 Browne, Trees of America, p. 328. 37 Schoolcraft, Hist. &c part i. pp. 32-34. 38 Earl, The Papuans, p. 132. 39 Earl, The Eastern Seas, ch. 8. 40 Edwards, Hist. of the West Indies, book i. ch. 2. 41 Ibid. ch. 3. 42 Falkner, Patagonia, ch. 5. 43 Catlin, North American Indians, vol. ii. p. 6. to breathe, they set him there, on his favorite steed, and heaped the earth around him. This does not imply any believed doctrine, in our sense of the term, but is plainly a spontaneous transference for the moment, by the poetic imagination, of the sentiments of the living man to the buried body. The unhappy Africans who were snatched from their homes, enslaved and cruelly tasked in the far West India islands, pined under their fate with deadly homesickness. The intense longing moulded their plastic belief, just as the sensation from some hot bricks at the feet of a sleeping man shaped his dreams into a journey up the side of Atna. They fancied that if they died they should immediately live again in their fatherland. They committed suicide in great numbers. At last, when other means had failed to check this epidemic of self destruction, a cunning overseer brought them ropes and every facility for hanging, and told them to hang themselves as fast as they pleased, for their master had bought a great plantation in Africa, and as soon as they got there they would be set to work on it. Their helpless credulity took the impression; and no more suicides occurred.44 The mutual formative influences exerted upon a people's notions concerning the future state, by the imagination of their poets and the peculiarities of their clime, are perhaps nowhere more conspicuously exhibited than in the case of the Caledonians who at an early period dwelt in North Britain. They had picturesque traditions locating the habitation of ghosts in the air above their fog draped mountains. They promised rewards for nothing but valor, and threatened punishments for nothing but cowardice; and even of these they speak obscurely. Nothing is said of an under world. They supposed the ghosts at death floated upward naturally, true children of the mist, and dwelt forever in the air, where they spent an inane existence, indulging in sorrowful memories of the past, and, in unreal imitation of their mortal occupations, chasing boars of fog amid hills of cloud and valleys of shadow. The authority for these views is Ossian, "whose genuine strains," Dr. Good observes, "assume a higher importance as historical records than they can claim when considered as fragments of exquisite poetry." "A dark red stream comes down from the hill. Crugal sat upon the beam; he that lately fell by the hand of Swaran striving in the battle of heroes. His face is like the beam of the setting moon; his robes are of the clouds of the hill; his eyes are like two decaying flames; dark is the wound on his breast. The stars dim twinkled through his form, and his voice was like the sound of a distant stream. Dim and in tears he stood, and stretched his pale hand over the hero. Faintly he raised his feeble voice, like the gale of the reedy Lego. 'My ghost, O'Connal, is on my native hills, but my corse is on the sands of Ullin. Thou shalt never talk with Crugal nor find his lone steps on the heath. I am light as the blast of Cromla, and I move like the shadow of mist. Connal, son of Colgar, I see the dark cloud of death. It hovers over the plains of Lena. The sons of green Erin shall fall. Remove from the field of ghosts.' Like the darkened moon, he retired in the midst of the whistling blast." We recognise here several leading traits in all the early unspeculative faiths, the vapory form, the echoless motion, the marks of former wounds, the feeble voice, the memory 44 Meiners, Geschichte der Religionen, buch xiv. sect. 765. of the past, the mournful aspect, and the prophetic words. But the rhetorical imagery, the scenery, the location of the spirit world in the lower clouds, are stamped by emphatic climatic peculiarities, whose origination, easily traceable, throws light on the growth of the whole mass of such notions everywhere. Two general sources have now been described of the barbarian conceptions in relation to a future state. First, the natural operation of an earnest recollection of the dead; sympathy, regret, and reverence for them leading the thoughts and the heart to grope after them, to brood over the possibilities of their fate, and to express themselves in rites and emblems. Secondly, the mythological or arbitrary creations of the imagination when it is set strongly at work, as it must be by the solemn phenomena associated with death. But beyond these two comprehensive statements there is, directly related to the matter, and worthy of separate illustration, a curious action of the mind, which has been very extensively experienced and fertile of results. It is a peculiar example of the unconscious impartation of objective existence to mental ideas. With the death of the body the man does not cease to live in the remembrance, imagination, and heart of his surviving friends. By an unphilosophical confusion, this internal image is credited as an external existence. The dead pass from their customary haunts in our society to the imperishable domain of ideas. This visionary world of memory and fantasy is projected outward, located, furnished, and constitutes the future state apprehended by the barbarian mind. Feuerbach says in his subtle and able Thoughts on Death and Immortality, "The Realm of Memory is the Land of Souls." Ossian, amid the midnight mountains, thinking of departed warriors and listening to the tempest, fills the gale with the impersonations, of his thoughts, and exclaims, "I hear the steps of the dead in the dark eddying blast." The barbarian brain seems to have been generally impregnated with the feeling that every thing else has a ghost as well as man. The Gauls lent money in this world upon bills payable in the next. They threw letters upon the funeral pile to be read by the soul of the deceased.45 As the ghost was thought to retain the scars of injuries inflicted upon the body, so, it appears, these letters were thought, when destroyed, to leave impressions of what had been written on them. The custom of burning or burying things with the dead probably arose, in some cases at least, from the supposition that every object has its mancs. The obolus for Charon, the cake of honey for Cerberus, the shadows of these articles would be borne and used by the shadow of the dead man. Leonidas saying, "Bury me on my shield: I will enter even Hades as a Lacedamonian," 46 must either have used the word Hades by metonymy for the grave, or have imagined that a shadowy fac simile of what was interred in the grave went into the grim kingdom of Pluto. It was a custom with some Indian tribes, on the new made grave of a chief, to slay his chosen horse; and when he fell they supposed "That then, upon the dead man's plain, The rider grasp'd his steed again." 45 Pomponius Mela, De Orbis Situ, iii. 2. 46 Translation of Greek Anthology, in Bohn's Library, p. 58. The hunter chases the deer, each alike a shade. A Feejee once, in presence of a missionary, took a weapon from the grave of a buried companion, saying, "The ghost of the club has gone with him." The Iroquois tell of a woman who was chased by a ghost. She heard his faint war whoop, his spectre voice, and only escaped with her life because his war club was but a shadow wielded by an arm of air. The Slavonians sacrificed a warrior's horse at his tomb.47 Nothing seemed to the Northman so noble as to enter Valhalla on horseback, with a numerous retinue, in his richest apparel and finest armor. It was firmly believed, Mallet says, that Odin himself had declared that whatsoever was burned or buried with the dead accompanied them to his palace.48 Before the Mohammedan era, on the death of an Arab, the finest camel he had owned was tied to a stake beside his grave, and left to expire of hunger over the body of his master, in order that, in the region into which death had introduced him, he should be supplied with his usual bearer.49 The Chinese who surpass all other people in the offerings and worship paid at the sepulchres of their ancestors make little paper houses, fill them with images of furniture, utensils, domestics, and all the appurtenances of the family economy, and then burn them, thus passing them into the invisible state for the use of the deceased whom they mourn and honor.50 It is a touching thought with the Greenlanders, when a child dies, to bury a dog with him as a guide to the land of souls; for, they say, the dog is able to find his way anywhere.51 The shadow of the faithful servant guides the shadow of the helpless child to heaven. In fancy, not without a moved heart, one sees this spiritual Bernard dog bearing the ghost child on his back, over the spectral Gothard of death, safe into the sheltering hospice of the Greenland paradise. It is strange to notice the meeting of extremes in the rude antithetical correspondence between Plato's doctrine of archetypal ideas, the immaterial patterns of earthly things, and the belief of savages in the ghosts of clubs, arrows, sandals, and provisions. The disembodied soul of the philosopher, an eternal idea, turns from the empty illusions of matter to nourish itself with the substance of real truth. The spectre of the Mohawk devours the spectre of the haunch of roast venison hung over his grave. And why should not the two shades be conceived, if either? "Pig, bullock, goose, must have their goblins too, Else ours would have to go without their dinners: If that starvation doctrine were but true, How hard the fate of gormandizing sinners!" The conception of ghosts has been still further introduced also into the realm of mathematics in an amusing manner. Bishop Berkeley, bantered on his idealism by Halley, retorted that he too was an idealist; for his ultimate ratios terms only appearing with the 47 Wilkinson, Dalmatia and Montenegro, vol. i. ch. 1. 48 Northern Antiquities, ch. 10. 49 Lamartine, History of Turkey, book i. ch. 10. 50 Kidd, China, sect. 3. 51 Crantz, History of Greenland, book iii. ch. 6, sect. 47. disappearance of the forms in whose relationship they consist were but the ghosts of departed quantities! It may be added here that, according to the teachings of physiological psychology, all memories or recollected ideas are literally the ghosts of departed sensations. We have thus seen that the conjuring force of fear, with its dread apparitions, the surmising, half articulate struggles of affection, the dreams of memory, the lights and groups of poetry, the crude germs of metaphysical speculation, the deposits of the inter action of human experience and phenomenal nature, now in isolated fragments, again, huddled indiscriminately together conspire to compose the barbarian notions of a future life. CHAPTER II. DRUIDIC DOCTRINE OF A FUTURE LIFE. THAT strange body of men, commonly known as the Druids, who constituted what may, with some correctness, be called the Celtic priesthood, were the recognised religious teachers throughout Gaul, Armorica, a small part of Germany on the southern border, all Great Britain, and some neighboring islands. The notions in regard to a future life put forth by them are stated only in a very imperfect manner by the Greek and Roman authors in whose surviving works we find allusions to the Druids or accounts of the Celts. Several modern writers especially Borlase, in his Antiquities of Cornwall1 have collected all these references from Diodorus, Strabo, Procopius, Tacitus, Casar, Mela, Valerius Maximus, and Marcellinus. It is therefore needless to cite the passages here, the more so as, even with the aid of all the analytic and constructive comments which can be fairly made upon them, they afford us only a few general views, leaving all the details in profound obscurity. The substance of what we learn from these sources is this. First, that the Druids possessed a body of science and speculation comprising the doctrine of immortality, which they taught with clearness and authority. Secondly, that they inculcated the belief in a future life in inseparable connection with the great dogma of metempsychosis. Thirdly, that the people held such cheerful and attractive views of the future state, and held them with such earnestness, that they wept around the newborn infant and smiled around the corpse; that they encountered death without fear or reluctance. This reversal of natural sentiments shows the tampering of a priesthood who had motives. A somewhat more minute conception of the Druidic view of the future life is furnished us by an old mythologic tale of Celtic origin.2 Omitting the story, as irrelevant to our purpose, we derive from it the following ideas. The soul, on being divested of its earthly envelop, is borne aloft. The clouds are composed of the souls of lately deceased men. They fly over the heads of armies, inspiring courage or striking terror. Not yet freed from terrestrial affections, they mingle in the passions and affairs of men. Vainly they strive to soar above the atmosphere; an impassable wall of sapphire resists their wings. In the moon, millions of souls traverse tremendous plains of ice, losing all perception but that of simple existence, forgetting the adventures they have passed through and are about to recommence. During eclipses, on long tubes of darkness they return to the earth, and, revived by a beam of light from the all quickening sun, enter newly formed bodies, and begin again the career of life. The disk of the sun consists of an assemblage of pure souls swimming in an ocean of bliss. Souls sullied with earthly impurities are to be purged by repeated births and probations till the last stain is removed, and they are all finally fitted to ascend to a succession of spheres still higher than the sun, whence they can never sink again to reside in the circle of the lower globes and grosser atmosphere. 1 Book ii. ch. 14. 2 Davies, Celtic Researches, appendix, pp. 558-561. These representations are neither Gothic nor Roman, but Celtic. But a far more adequate exposition of the Druidic doctrine of the soul's destinies has been presented to us through the translation of some of the preserved treasures of the old Bardic lore of Wales. The Welsh bards for hundreds of years were the sole surviving representatives of the Druids. Their poems numerous manuscripts of which, with apparent authentication of their genuineness, have been published and explained contain quite full accounts of the tenets of Druidism, which was nowhere else so thoroughly systematized and established as in ancient Britain.3 The curious reader will find this whole subject copiously treated, and all the materials furnished, in the "Myvyrian Archaology of Wales," a work in two huge volumes, published at London at the beginning of the present century. After the introduction and triumph of Christianity in Britain, for several centuries the two systems of thought and ritual mutually influenced each other, corrupting and corrupted.4 A striking example in point is this. The notion of a punitive and remedial transmigration belonged to Druidism. Now, Taliesin, a famous Welsh bard of the sixth century, locates this purifying metempsychosis in the Hell of Christianity, whence the soul gradually rises again to felicity, the way for it having been opened by Christ! Cautiously eliminating the Christian admixtures, the following outline, which we epitomize from the pioneer5 of modern scholars to the Welsh Bardic literature, affords a pretty clear knowledge of that portion of the Druidic theology relating to the future life. There are, says one of the Bardic triads, three circles of existence. First, the Circle of Infinity, where of living or dead there is nothing but God, and which none but God can traverse. Secondly, the Circle of Metempsychosis, where all things that live are derived from death. This circle has been traversed by man. Thirdly, the Circle of Felicity, where all things spring from life. This circle man shall hereafter traverse. All animated beings originate in the lowest point of existence, and, by regular gradations through an ascending series of transmigrations, rise to the highest state of perfection possible for finite creatures. Fate reigns in all the states below that of humanity, and they are all necessarily evil. In the states above humanity, on the contrary, unmixed good so prevails that all are necessarily good. But in the middle state of humanity, good and evil are so balanced that liberty results; and free will and consequent responsibility are born. Beings who in their ascent have arrived at the state of man, if, by purity, humility, love, and righteousness, they keep the laws of the Creator, will, after death, rise into more glorious spheres, and will continue to rise still higher, until they reach the final destination of complete and endless happiness. But if, while in the state of humanity, one perverts his reason and will, and attaches himself to evil, he will, on dying, fall into such a state of animal existence as corresponds with the baseness of his soul. This baseness may be so great as to precipitate him to the lowest point of being; but he shall climb thence through a series of births best fitted to free him from his evil propensities. Restored to the probationary state, he may fall again; but, though this should occur again and again 3 Sketch of British Bardism, prefixed to Owen's translation of the Heroic Elegies of Llywarch Hen. 4 Herbert, Essay on the Neo Druidic Heresy in Britannia. 5 Poems, Lyric and Pastoral, by Edward Williams, vol. ii. notes, pp. 194-256. for a million of ages, the path to happiness still remains open, and he shall at last infallibly arrive at his preordained felicity, and fall nevermore. In the states superior to humanity, the soul recovers and retains the entire recollection of its former lives. We will quote a few illustrative triads. There are three necessary purposes of metempsychosis: to collect the materials and properties of every nature; to collect the knowledge of every thing; to collect power towards removing whatever is pernicious. The knowledge of three things will subdue and destroy evil: knowledge of its cause, its nature, and its operation. Three things continually dwindle away: the Dark, the False, the Dead. Three things continually increase: Light, Truth, Life. These will prevail, and finally absorb every thing else. The soul is an inconceivably minute particle of the most refined matter, endowed with indestructible life, at the dissolution of one body passing, according to its merits, into a higher or lower stage of existence, where it expands itself into that form which its acquired propensities necessarily give it, or into that animal in which such propensities naturally reside. The ultimate states of happiness are ceaselessly undergoing the most delightful renovations, without which, indeed, no finite being could endure the tedium of eternity. These are not, like the death of the lower states, accompanied by a suspension of memory and of conscious identity. All the innumerable modes of existence, after being cleansed from every evil, will forever remain as beautiful varieties in the creation, and will be equally esteemed, equally happy, equally fathered by the Creator. The successive occupation of these modes of existence by the celestial inhabitants of the Circle of Felicity will be one of the ways of varying what would otherwise be the intolerable monotony of eternity. The creation is yet in its infancy. The progressive operation of the providence of God will bring every being up from the great Deep to the point of liberty, and will at last secure three things for them: namely, what is most beneficial, what is most desired, and what is most beautiful. There are three stabilities of existence: what cannot be otherwise, what should not be otherwise, what cannot be imagined better; and in these all shall end, in the Circle of Felicity. Such is a hasty synopsis of what here concerns us in the theology of the Druids. In its ground germs it was, it seems to us, unquestionably imported into Celtic thought and Cymrian song from that prolific and immemorial Hindu mind which bore Brahmanism and Buddhism as its fruit. Its ethical tone, intellectual elevation, and glorious climax are not unworthy that free hierarchy of minstrel priests whose teachings were proclaimed, as their assemblies were held, "in the face of the sun and in the eye of the light," and whose thrilling motto was, "THE TRUTH AGAINST THE WORLD." The latest publication on the subject of old Welsh literature is "Taliesin; or, The Bards and Druids of Britain." The author, D. W. Nash, is obviously familiar with his theme, and he throws much light on many points of it. His ridicule of the arbitrary tenets and absurdities which Davies, Pughe, and others have taught in all good faith as Druidic lore and practice is richly deserved. But, despite the learning and acumen displayed in his able and valuable volume, we must think Mr. Nash goes wholly against the record in denying the doctrine of metempsychosis to the Druidic system, and goes clearly beyond the record in charging Edward Williams and others with forgery and fraud in their representations of ancient Bardic doctrines.6 In support of such grave charges direct evidence is needed; only suspicious circumstances are adduced. The non existence of public documents is perfectly reconcilable with the existence of reliable oral accounts preserved by the initiated few, one of whom Williams, with seeming sincerity, claimed to be. 6 Taliesin, ch. iv. CHAPTER III. SCANDINAVIAN DOCTRINE OF A FUTURE LIFE. MANY considerations combine to make it seem likely that at an early period a migration took place from Southern Asia to Northern Europe, which constituted the commencement of what afterwards grew to be the great Gothic family. The correspondence of many of the leading doctrines and symbols of the Scandinavian mythology with well known Persian and Buddhist notions notions of a purely fanciful and arbitrary character is too peculiar, apparently, to admit of any other explanation.1 But the germs of thought and imagination transplanted thus from the warm and gorgeous climes of the East to the snowy mountains of Norway and the howling ridges of Iceland, obtained a fresh development, with numerous modifications and strange additions, from the new life, climate, scenery, and customs to which they were there exposed. The temptation to predatory habits and strife, the necessity for an intense though fitful activity arising from their geographical situation, the fierce spirit nourished in them by their actual life, the tremendous phenomena of the Arctic world around them, all these influences break out to our view in the poetry, and are reflected by their results in the religion, of the Northmen. From the flame world, Muspelheim, in the south, in which Surtur, the dread fire king, sits enthroned, flowed down streams of heat. From the mist world, Niflheim, in the north, in whose central caldron, Hvergelmir, dwells the gloomy dragon Nidhogg, rose floods of cold vapor. The fire and mist meeting in the yawning abyss, Ginungagap, after various stages of transition, formed the earth. There were then three principal races of beings: men, whose dwelling was Midgard; Jotuns, who occupied Utgard; and the Asir, whose home was Asgard. The Jotuns, or demons, seem to have been originally personifications of darkness, cold, and storm, the disturbing forces of nature, whatever is hostile to fruitful life and peace. They were frost giants ranged in the outer wastes around the habitable fields of men. The Asir, or gods, on the other hand, appear to have been personifications of light, and law, and benignant power, the orderly energies of the universe. Between the Jotuns and the Asir there is an implacable contest.2 The rainbow, Bifrost, is a bridge leading from earth up to the skyey dwelling place of the Asir; and their sentinel, Heimdall, whose senses are so acute that he can hear the grass spring in the meadows and the wool grow on the backs of the sheep, keeps incessant watch upon it. Their chief deity, the father Zeus of the Northern pantheon, was Odin, the god of war, who wakened the spirit of battle by flinging his spear over the heads of the people, its inaudible hiss from heaven being as the song of Ate let loose on earth. Next in rank was Thor, the personification of the exploding tempest. The crashing echoes of the thunder are his chariot wheels rattling through the cloudy halls of Thrudheim. Whenever the lightning strikes a cliff or an iceberg, then Thor has flung his hammer, Mjolnir, at Joton's head. 1 Vans Kennedy, Ancient and Hindu Mythology, pp. 452, 463-464. 2 Thorpe, Northern Mythology, vol. ii. Balder was the god of innocence and gentleness, fairest, kindest, purest of beings. Light emanated from him, and all things loved him. After Christianity was established in the North, Jesus was called the White Christ, or the new Balder. The appearance of Balder amidst the frenzied and bloody divinities of the Norse creed is beautiful as the dew cool moon hanging calmly over the lurid storm of Vesuvius. He was entitled the "Band in the Wreath of the Gods," because with his fate that of all the rest was bound up. His death, ominously foretold from eldest antiquity, would be the signal for the ruin of the universe. Asa Loki was the Momus Satan or Devil Buffoon of the Scandinavian mythology, the half amusing, half horrible embodiment of wit, treachery, and evil; now residing with the gods in heaven, now accompanying Thor on his frequent adventures, now visiting and plotting with his own kith and kin in frosty Jotunheim, beyond the earth environing sea, or in livid Helheim deep beneath the domain of breathing humanity.3 With a Jotun woman, Angerbode, or Messenger of Evil, Loki begets three fell children. The first is Fenris, a savage wolf, so large that nothing but space can hold him. The second is Jormungandur, who, with his tail in his mouth, fills the circuit of the ocean. He is described by Sir Walter Scott as "That great sea snake, tremendous curl'd, Whose monstrous circle girds the world." The third is Hela, the grim goddess of death, whose ferocious aspect is half of a pale blue and half of a ghastly white, and whose empire, stretching below the earth through Niflheim, is full of freezing vapors and discomfortable sights. Her residence is the spacious under world; her court yard, faintness; her threshold, precipice; her door, abyss; her hall, pain; her table, hunger; her knife, starvation; her man servant, delay; her handmaid, slowness; her bed, sickness; her pillow, anguish; and her canopy, curse. Still lower than her house is an abode yet more fearful and loathsome. In Nastrond, or strand of corpses, stands a hall, the conception of which is prodigiously awful and enormously disgusting. It is plaited of serpents' backs, wattled together like wicker work, whose heads turn inwards, vomiting poison. In the lake of venom thus deposited within these immense wriggling walls of snakes the worst of the damned wade and swim. High up in the sky is Odin's hall, the magnificent Valhalla, or temple of the slain. The columns supporting its ceiling are spears. It is roofed with shields, and the ornaments on its benches are coats of mail. The Valkyrs are Odin's battle maids, choosers of heroes for his banquet rooms. With helmets on their heads, in bloody harness, mounted on shadowy steeds, surrounded by meteoric lightnings, and wielding flaming swords, they hover over the conflict and point the way to Valhalla to the warriors who fall. The valiant souls thus received to Odin's presence are called Einheriar, or the elect. The Valkyrs, as white clad virgins with flowing ringlets, wait on them in the capacity of cup bearers. Each morning, at the crowing 3 Oehlenschlager, Gods of the North. This celebrated and brilliant poem, with the copious notes in Frye's translation, affords the English reader a full conception of the Norse pantheon and its salient adventures. of a huge gold combed cock, the well armed Einheriar rush through Valhalla's five hundred and forty doors into a great court yard, and pass the day in merciless fighting. However pierced and hewn in pieces in these fearful encounters, at evening every wound is healed, and they return into the hall whole, and are seated, according to their exploits, at a luxurious feast. The perennial boar Sehrimnir, deliciously cooked by Andrimnir, though devoured every night, is whole again every morning and ready to be served anew. The two highest joys these terrible berserkers and vikings knew on earth composed their experience in heaven: namely, a battle by day and a feast by night. It is a vulgar error, long prevalent, that the Valhalla heroes drink out of the skulls of their enemies. This notion, though often refuted, still lingers in the popular mind. It arose from the false translation of a phrase in the death song of Ragnar Lodbrok, the famous sea king, "Soon shall we drink from the curved trees of the head," which, as a figure for the usual drinking horns, was erroneously rendered by Olaus Wormius, "Soon shall we drink from the hollow cups of skulls." It is not the heads of men, but the horns of beasts, from which the Einheriar quaff Heidrun's mead.4 No women being ever mentioned as gaining admission to Valhalla or joining in the joys of the Einheriar, some writers have affirmed that, according to the Scandinavian faith, women had no immortal souls, or, at all events, were excluded from heaven. The charge is as baseless in this instance as when brought against Mohammedanism. Valhalla was the exclusive abode of the most daring champions; but Valhalla was not the whole of heaven. Vingolf, the Hall of Friends, stood beside the Hall of the Slain, and was the assembling place of the goddesses.5 There, in the palace of Freya, the souls of noble women were received after death. The elder Edda says that Thor guided Roska, a swift footed peasant girl who had attended him as a servant on various excursions, to Freya's bower, where she was welcomed, and where she remained forever. The virgin goddess Gefjone, the Northern Diana, also had a residence in heaven, and all who died maidens repaired thither.6 The presence of virgin throngs with Gefjone, and the society of noble matrons in Vingolf, shed a tender gleam across the carnage and carousal of Valhalla. More is said of the latter the former is scarcely visible to us now because the only record we have of the Norse faith is that contained in the fragmentary strains of ferocious Skalds, who sang chiefly to warriors, and the staple matter of whose songs was feats of martial prowess or entertaining mythological stories. Furthermore, there is above the heaven of the Asir a yet higher heaven, the abode of the far removed and inscrutable being, the rarely named Omnipotent One, the true All Father, who is at last to come forth above the ruins of the universe to judge and sentence all creatures and to rebuild a better world. In this highest region towers the imperishable gold roofed hall, Gimle, brighter than the sun. There is no hint anywhere in the Skaldic strains that good women are repulsed from this dwelling. According to the rude morality of the people and the time, the contrasted conditions of admission to the upper paradise or condemnation to the infernal realm were the admired 4 Pigott, Manual of Scandinavian Mythology, p. 65. 5 Keyser, Religion of the Northmen, trans. by Pennock, p. 149. 6 Pigott, p. 245. virtues of strength, open handed frankness, reckless audacity, or the hated vices of feebleness, cowardice, deceit, humility. Those who have won fame by puissant feats and who die in battle are snatched by the Valkyrs from the sod to Valhalla. To die in arms is to be chosen of Odin, "In whose hall of gold The steel clad ghosts their wonted orgies hold. Some taunting jest begets the war of words: In clamorous fray they grasp their gleamy swords, And, as upon the earth, with fierce delight By turns renew the banquet and the fight." All, on the contrary, who, after lives of ignoble labor or despicable ease, die of sickness, sink from their beds to the dismal house of Hela. In this gigantic vaulted cavern the air smells like a newly stirred grave; damp fogs rise, hollow sighs are heard, the only light comes from funeral tapers held by skeletons; the hideous queen, whom Thor eulogizes as the Scourger of Cowards, sits on a throne of skulls, and sways a sceptre, made of a dead man's bone bleached in the moonlight, over a countless multitude of shivering ghosts.7 But the Norse moralists plunge to a yet darker doom those guilty of perjury, murder, or adultery. In Nastrond's grisly hail, which is shaped of serpents' spines, and through whose loop holes drops of poison drip, where no sunlight ever reaches, they welter in a venom sea and are gnawed by the dragon Nidhogg.8 In a word, what to the crude moral sense of the martial Goth seemed piety, virtue, led to heaven; what seemed blasphemy, baseness, led to hell. The long war between good and evil, light and darkness, order and discord, the Asir and the Jotuns, was at last to reach a fatal crisis and end in one universal battle, called Ragnarokur, or the "Twilight of the Gods," whose result would be the total destruction of the present creation. Portentous inklings of this dread encounter were abroad among all beings. A shuddering anticipation of it sat in a lowering frown of shadow on the brows of the deities. In preparation for Ragnarokur, both parties anxiously secured all the allies they could. Odin therefore joyously welcomes every valiant warrior to Valhalla, as a recruit for his hosts on that day when Fenris shall break loose. When Hakon Jarl fell, the Valkyrs shouted, "Now does the force of the gods grow stronger when they have brought Hakon to their home." A Skald makes Odin say, on the death of King Eirilc Blood Axe, as an excuse for permitting such a hero to be slain, "Our lot is uncertain: the gray wolf gazes on the host of the gods;" that is, we shall need help at Ragnarokur. But as all the brave and magnanimous champions received to Valhalla were enlisted on the side of the Asir, so all the miserable cowards, invalids, and wretches doomed to Hela's house would fight for the Jotuns. From day to day the opposed armies, above and below, increase in numbers. Some grow impatient, some tremble. When Balder dies, and the ship Nagelfra is completed, the hour of infinite suspense will strike. Nagelfra is a vessel for the conveyance of the hosts of frost giants to the battle. It is to be built of dead men's nails: therefore no one should die with unpaired nails, for if he does he 7 Pigott, pp. 137, 138. 8 The Voluspa, strophes 34, 35. furnishes materials for the construction of that ship which men and gods wish to have finished as late as possible.9 At length Loki treacherously compasses the murder of Balder. The frightful foreboding which at once flies through all hearts finds voice in the dark "Raven Song" of Odin. Having chanted this obscure wail in heaven, he mounts his horse and rides down the bridge to Helheim. With resistless incantations he raises from the grave, where she has been interred for ages, wrapt in snows, wet with the rains and the dews, an aged vala or prophetess, and forces her to answer his questions. With appalling replies he returns home, galloping up the sky. And now the crack of doom is at hand. Heimdall hurries up and down the bridge Bifrost, blowing his horn till its rousing blasts echo through the universe. The wolf Skoll, from whose pursuit the frightened sun has fled round the heavens since the first dawn, overtakes and devours his bright prey. Nagelfra, with the Jotun hosts on board, sails swiftly from Utgard. Loki advances at the head of the troops of Hela. Fenris snaps his chain and rushes forth with jaws so extended that the upper touches the firmament, while the under rests on the earth; and he would open them wider if there were room. Jormungandur writhes his entire length around Midgard, and, lifting his head, blows venom over air and sea. Suddenly, in the south, heaven cleaves asunder, and through the breach the sons of Muspel, the flame genii, ride out on horseback with Surtur at their head, his sword outflashing the sun. Now Odin leads forward the Asir and the Einheriar, and on the predestined plain of Vigrid the strife commences. Heimdall and Loki mutually slay each other. Thor kills Jormungandur; but as the monster expires he belches a flood of venom, under which the matchless thunder god staggers and falls dead. Fenris swallows Odin, but is instantly rent in twain by Vidar, the strong silent one, Odin's dumb son, who well avenges his father on the wolf by splitting the jaws that devoured him. Then Surtur slings fire abroad, and the reek rises around all things. Iggdrasill, the great Ash Tree of Existence, totters, but stands. All below perishes. Finally, the unnamable Mighty One appears, to judge the good and the bad. The former hie from fading Valhalla to eternal Gimle, where all joy is to be theirs forever; the latter are stormed down from Hela to Nastrond, there, "under curdling mists, in a snaky marsh whose waves freeze black and thaw in blood, to be scared forever, for punishment, with terrors ever new." All strife vanishes in endless peace. By the power of All Father, a new earth, green and fair, shoots up from the sea, to be inhabited by a new race of men free from sorrow. The foul, spotted dragon Nidhogg flies over the plains, bearing corpses and Death itself away upon his wings, and sinks out of sight.10 It has generally been asserted, in consonance with the foregoing view, that the Scandinavians believed that the good and the bad, respectively in Gimle and Nastrond, would experience everlasting rewards and punishments. But Blackwell, the recent editor of Percy's translation of Mallet's Northern Antiquities as published in Bohn's Antiquarian Library, argues with great force against the correctness of the assertion.11 The point is 9 Grimm, Deutsche Mythologie, s. 775, note. 10 Keyser, Religion of the Northmen, part i. ch. vi. 11 Pp. 497-503. dubious; but it is of no great importance, since we know that the spirit and large outlines of their faith have been reliably set forth. That faith, rising from the impetuous blood and rude mind of the martial race of the North, gathering wonderful embellishments from the glowing imagination of the Skalds, reacting, doubly nourished the fierce valor and fervid fancy from which it sprang. It drove the dragon prows of the Vikings marauding over the seas. It rolled the Goths' conquering squadrons across the nations, from the shores of Finland and Skager Rack to the foot of the Pyrenees and the gates of Rome. The very ferocity with which it blazed consumed itself, and the conquest of the flickering faith by Christianity was easy. During the dominion of this religion, the earnest sincerity with which its disciples received it appears alike from the fearful enterprises it prompted them to, the iron hardihood and immeasurable contempt of death it inspired in them, and the superstitious observances which, with pains and expenses, they scrupulously kept. They buried, with the dead, gold, useful implements, ornaments, that they might descend, furnished and shining, to the halls of Hela. With a chieftain they buried a pompous horse and splendid armor, that he might ride like a warrior into Valhalla. The true Scandinavian, by age or sickness deprived of dying in battle, ran himself through, or flung himself from a precipice, in this manner to make amends for not expiring in armed strife, if haply thus he might snatch a late seat among the Einheriar. With the same motive the dying sea king had himself laid on his ship, alone, and launched away, with out stretched sails, with a slow fire in the hold, which, when he was fairly out at sea, should flame up and, as Carlyle says, "worthily bury the old hero at once in the sky and in the ocean." Surely then, if ever, "the kingdom of heaven suffered violence, and the violent took it by force." CHAPTER IV. ETRUSCAN DOCTRINE OF A FUTURE LIFE. ALTHOUGH the living form and written annals of Etruria perished thousands of years ago, and although but slight references to her affairs have come down to us in the documents of contemporary nations, yet, through a comparatively recent acquisition of facts, we have quite a distinct and satisfactory knowledge of her condition and experience when her power was palmiest. We follow the ancient Etruscans from the cradle to the tomb, perceiving their various national costumes, peculiar physiognomies, names and relationships, houses, furniture, ranks, avocations, games, dying scenes, burial processions, and funeral festivals. And, further than this, we follow their souls into the world to come, behold them in the hands of good or evil spirits, brought to judgment and then awarded their deserts of bliss or woe. This knowledge has been derived from their sepulchres, which still resist the corroding hand of Time when nearly every thing else Etruscan has mingled with the ground.1 They hewed their tombs in the living rock of cliffs and hills, or reared them of massive masonry. They painted or carved the walls with descriptive and symbolic scenes, and crowded their interiors with sarcophagi, cinerary urns, vases, goblets, mirrors, and a thousand other articles covered with paintings and sculptures rich in information of their authors. From a study of these things, lately disinterred in immense quantities, has been constructed, for the most part, our present acquaintance with this ancient people. Strange that, when the whole scene of life has passed away, a sepulchral world should survive and open itself to reveal the past and instruct the future! We seem to see, rising from her tombs, and moving solemnly among the mounds where all she knew or cared for has for so many ages been inurned, the ghost of a mighty people. With dejected air she leans on a ruined temple and muses; and her shadowy tears fall silently over what was and is not. The Etruscans were accustomed to bury their deceased outside their walls; and sometimes the city of the living was thus surrounded by a far reaching city of the dead. At this day the decaying fronts of the houses of the departed, for miles upon miles along the road, admonish the living traveller. These stone hewn sepulchres crowd nearly every hill and glen. Whole acres of them are also found upon the plains, covered by several feet of earth, where every spring the plough passes over them, and every autumn the harvest waves; but the dust beneath reposes well, and knows nothing of this. "Time buries graves. How strange! a buried grave! Death cannot from more death its own dead empire save." The houses of the dead were built in imitation of the houses of the living, only on a smaller scale; and the interior arrangements were so closely copied that it is said the resemblance held in all but the light of day and the sound and motion of life. The images 1 Mrs. Gray, Sepulchres of Etruria. painted or etched on the urns and sarcophagi that fill the sepulchres were portraits of the deceased, accurate likenesses, varying with age, sex, features, and expression. These personal portraits were taken and laid up here, doubtless, to preserve their remembrance when the original had crumbled to ashes. What a touching voice is this from antiquity, telling us that our poor, fond human nature was ever the same! The heart longed to be kept still in remembrance when the mortal frame was gone. But how vain the wish beyond the vanishing circle of hearts that returned its love! For, as we wander through those sepulchres now, thousands of faces thus preserved look down upon us with a mute plea, when every vestige of their names and characters is forever lost, and their very dust scattered long ago. Along the sides of the burial chamber were ranged massive stone shelves, or sometimes benches, or tables, upon which the dead were laid in a reclining posture, to sleep their long sleep. It often happens that on these rocky biers lie the helmet, breastplate, greaves, signet ring, and weapons, or, if it be a female, the necklace, ear rings, bracelet, and other ornaments, each in its relative place, when the body they once encased or adorned has not left a single fragment behind. An antiquary once, digging for discoveries, chanced to break through the ceiling of a tomb. He looked in; and there, to quote his own words, "I beheld a warrior stretched on a couch of rock, and in a few minutes I saw him vanish under my eyes; for, as the air entered the cemetery, the armor, thoroughly oxydized, crumbled away into most minute particles, and in a short time scarcely a trace of what I had seen was left on the couch. It is impossible to express the effect this sight produced upon me." An important element in the religion of Etruria was the doctrine of Genii, a system of household deities who watched over the fortunes of individuals and families, and who are continually shown on the engravings in the sepulchres as guiding, or actively interested in, all the incidents that happen to those under their care. It was supposed that every person had two genii allotted to him, one inciting him to good deeds, the other to bad, and both accompanying him after death to the judgment to give in their testimony and turn the scales of his fate. This belief, sincerely held, would obviously wield a powerful influence over their feelings in the conduct of life. The doctrine concerning the gods that prevailed in this ancient nation is learned partly from the classic authors, partly from sepulchral monumental remains. It was somewhat allied to that of Egypt, but much more to that of Rome, who indeed derived a considerable portion of her mythology from this source. As in other pagan countries, a multitude of deities were worshipped here, each having his peculiar office, form of representation, and cycle of traditions. It would be useless to specify all.2 The goddess of Fate was pictured with wings, showing her swiftness, and with a hammer and nail, to typify that her decrees were unalterably fixed. The name of the supreme god was Tinia. He was the central power of the world of divinities, and was always represented, like Jupiter Tonans, with a thunderbolt in his hand. There were twelve great "consenting gods," composing the council of Tinia, and called "The Senators of Heaven." They were pitiless beings, dwelling in the inmost recesses 2 Muller, Die Etrusker, buch iii. kap. iv. sects. 7-14. of heaven, whose names it was not lawful to pronounce. Yet they were not deemed eternal, but were supposed to rise and fall together. There was another class, called "The Shrouded Gods," still more awful, potent, and mysterious, ruling all things, and much like the inscrutable Necessity that filled the dark background of the old Greek religion. Last, but most feared and most prominent in the Etruscan mind, were the rulers of the lower regions, Mantus and Mania, the king and queen of the under world. Mantus was figured as an old man, wearing a crown, with wings at his shoulders, and a torch reversed in his hand. Mania was a fearful personage, frequently propitiated with human sacrifices. Macrobius says boys were offered up at her annual festival for a long time, till the heads of onions and poppies were substituted.3 Intimately connected with these divinities was Charun, their chief minister, the conductor of souls into the realm of the future, whose dread image, hideous as the imagination could conceive, is constantly introduced in the sepulchral pictures, and who with his attendant demons well illustrates the terrible character of the superstition which first created, then deified, and then trembled before him. Who can become acquainted with such horrors as these without drawing a freer breath, and feeling a deeper gratitude to God, as he remembers how, for many centuries now, the religion of love has been redeeming man from subterranean darkness, hatred, and fright, to the happiness and peace of good will and trust in the sweet, sunlit air of day! That a belief in a future existence formed a prominent and controlling feature in the creed of the Etruscans4 is abundantly shown by the contents of their tombs. They would never have produced and preserved paintings, tracings, types, of such a character and in such quantities, had not the doctrines they shadow forth possessed a ruling hold upon their hopes and fears. The symbolic representations connected with this subject may be arranged in several classes. First, there is an innumerable variety of death bed scenes, many of them of the most touching and pathetic character, such as witnesses say can scarcely be looked upon without tears, others of the most appalling nature, showing perfect abandonment to fright, screams, sobbing, and despair. The last hour is described under all circumstances, coming to all sorts of persons, prince, priest, peasant, man, mother, and child. Patriarchs are dying surrounded by groups in every posture of grief; friends are waving a mournful farewell to their weeping lovers; wives are torn from the embrace of their husbands; some seem resigned and willingly going, others reluctant and driven in terror. The next series of engravings contain descriptions and emblems of the departure of the soul from this world, and of its passage into the next. There are various symbols of this mysterious transition: one is a snake with a boy riding upon its back, its amphibious nature plainly typifying the twofold existence allotted to man. The soul is also often shown muffled in a veil and travelling garb, seated upon a horse, and followed by a slave carrying a large sack of provisions, an emblem of the long and dreary journey about to be taken. Horses are depicted harnessed to cars in which disembodied spirits are seated, a token of the swift ride 3 Saturnal. lib. i. cap. 7. 4 Dennis, Cities and Cemeteries of Etruria, ch. xii. of the dead to their doom. Sometimes the soul is gently invited, or led, by a good spirit, sometimes beaten, or dragged away, by the squalid and savage Charun, the horrible death king, or one of his ministers; sometimes a good and an evil spirit are seen contending for the soul; sometimes the soul is seen, on its knees, beseeching the aid of its good genius and grasping at his departing wing, as, with averted face, he is retiring; and sometimes the good and the evil spirits are leading it away together, to abide the sentence of the tribunal of Mantus. Whole companies of souls are also set forth marching in procession, under the guidance of a winged genius, to their subterranean abode. Finally, there is a class of representations depicting the ultimate fate of souls after judgment has been passed. Some are shown seated at banquet, in full enjoyment, according to their ideas of bliss. Some are shown undergoing punishment, beaten with hammers, stabbed and torn by black demons. There are no proofs that the Etruscans believed in the translation of any soul to the abode of the gods above the sky, no signs of any path rising to the supernal heaven; but they clearly expected just discriminations to be made in the under world. Into that realm many gates are shown leading, some of them peaceful, inviting, surrounded by apparent emblems of deliverance, rest, and blessedness; others yawning, terrific, engirt by the heads of gnashing beasts and furies threatening their victim. "Shown is the progress of the guilty soul From earth's worn threshold to the throne of doom; Here the black genius to the dismal goal Drags the wan spectre from the unsheltering tomb, While from the side it never more may warn The better angel, sorrowing, flees forlorn. There (closed the eighth) seven yawning gates reveal The sevenfold anguish that awaits the lost. Closed the eighth gate, for there the happy dwell. No glimpse of joy beyond makes horror less." In these lines, from Bulwer's learned and ornate epic of King Arthur, the dire severity of the Etruscan doctrine of a future life is well indicated, with the local imagery of some parts of it, and the impenetrable obscurity which enwraps the great sequel. CHAPTER V. EGYPTIAN DOCTRINE OF A FUTURE LIFE. IN attempting to understand the conceptions of the ancient inhabitants of Egypt on the subject of a future life, we are first met by the inquiry why they took such great pains to preserve the bodies of their dead. It has been supposed that no common motive could have animated them to such lavish expenditure of money, time, and labor as the process of embalming required. It has been taken for granted that only some recondite theological consideration could explain this phenomenon. Accordingly, it is now the popular belief that the Egyptians were so scrupulous in embalming their dead and storing them in repositories of eternal stone, because they believed that the departed souls would at some future time come back and revivify their former bodies, if these were kept from decay. This hypothesis seems to us as false as it is gratuitous. In the first place, there is no evidence of it whatever, neither written testimony nor circumstantial hint. Herodotus tells us, "The Egyptians say the soul, on the dissolution of the body, always enters into some other animal then born, and, having passed in rotation through the various terrestrial, aquatic, and arial beings, again enters the body of a man then born."1 There is no assertion that, at the end of the three thousand years occupied by this circuit, the soul will re enter its former body. The plain inference, on the contrary, is that it will be born in a new body, as at each preceding step in the series of its transmigrations. Secondly, the mutilation of the body in embalming forbids the belief in its restoration to life. The brain was extracted, and the skull stuffed with cotton. The entrails were taken out, and sometimes, according to Porphyry2 and Plutarch,3 thrown into the Nile; sometimes, as modern examinations have revealed, bound up in four packages and either replaced in the cavity of the stomach or laid in four vases beside the mummy. It is absurd to attribute, without clear cause, to an enlightened people the belief that these stacks of brainless, eviscerated mummies, dried and shrunken in ovens, coated with pitch, bound up in a hundredfold bandages, would ever revive, and, inhabited by the same souls that fled them thirty centuries before, again walk the streets of Thebes! Besides, a third consideration demands notice. By the theory of metempsychosis universally acknowledged to have been held by the Egyptians it is taught that souls at death, either immediately, or after a temporary sojourn in hell or heaven has struck the balance of their merits, are born in fresh bodies; never that they return into their old ones. But the point is set beyond controversy by the discovery of inscriptions, accompanying pictures of scenes illustrating the felicity of blessed souls in heaven, to this effect: "Their bodies shall repose in their tombs forever; they live in the celestial regions eternally, enjoying the presence of the Supreme God." 4 A writer on this subject says, "A people who believed in the transmigration 1 Herod. lib. ii. cap. 123. 2 De Abstinentia, lib. iv. cap. 10. 3 Banquet of the Seven Wise Men. 4 Champollion, Descr. de l'Egypte, Antiq. tom ii. p. 132. Stuart's Trans. of Greppo's Essay, p. 262. of souls would naturally take extraordinary pains to preserve the body from putrefaction, in the hope of the soul again joining the body it had quitted." The remark is intrinsically untrue, because the doctrine of transmigration coexists in reconciled belief with the observed law of birth, infancy, and growth, not with the miracle of transition into reviving corpses. The notion is likewise historically refuted by the fact that the believers of that doctrine in the thronged East have never preserved the body, but at once buried or burned it. The whole Egyptian theology is much more closely allied to the Hindu, which excluded, than to the Persian, which emphasized, the resurrection of the body. Another theory which has been devised to explain the purpose of Egyptian embalming, is that "it was to unite the soul permanently to its body, and keep the vital principle from perishing or transmigrating; the body and soul ran together through the journey of the dead and its dread ordeal." 5 This arbitrary guess is incredible. The preservation of the body does not appear in any way not even to the rawest fancy to detain or unite the soul with it; for the thought is unavoidable that it is precisely the absence of the soul which constitutes death. Again: such an explanation of the motive for embalming cannot be correct, because in the hieroglyphic representations of the passage to the judgment the separate soul is often depicted as hovering over the body, 6 or as kneeling before the judges, or as pursuing its adventures through the various realms of the creation. "When the body is represented," Champollion says, "it is as an aid to the spectator, and not as teaching a bodily resurrection. Sharpe's opinion that the picture of a bird poised over the mouth of a mummy, with the emblems of breath and life in its claws, implies the doctrine of a general physical resurrection, is an inferential leap of the most startling character. What proof is there that the symbol denotes this? Hundreds of paintings in the tombs show souls undergoing their respective allotments in the other world while their bodily mummies are quiet in the sepulchres of the present. In his treatise on "Isis and Osiris," Plutarch writes, "The Egyptians believe that while the bodies of eminent men are buried in the earth their souls are stars shining in heaven." It is equally nonsensical in itself and unwarranted by evidence to imagine that, in the Egyptian faith, embalming either retained the soul in the body or preserved the body for a future return of the soul. Who can believe that it was for either of those purposes that they embalmed the multitudes of animals whose mummies the explorer is still turning up? They preserved cats, hawks, bugs, crocodiles, monkeys, bulls, with as great pains as they did men.7 When the Canary Islands were first visited, it was found that their inhabitants had a custom of carefully embalming the dead. The same was the case among the Peruvians, whose vast cemeteries remain to this day crowded with mummies. But the expectation of a return of the souls into these preserved bodies is not to be ascribed to those peoples. Herodotus informs us that "the Ethiopians, having dried the bodies of their dead, coat them with white plaster, which they paint with colors to the likeness of the deceased and encase in a transparent substance. The dead, thus kept from being offensive, and yet plainly visible, are retained a 5 Bonomi and Arundel on Egyptian Antiq., p. 46. 6 Pl. xxxiii. in Lepsius' Todtenb. der. Agypter. 7 Pettigrew, Hist of Egyptian Mummies, ch. xii. whole year in the houses of their nearest relatives. Afterwards they are carried out and placed upright in the tombs around the city." 8 It has been argued, because the Egyptians expended so much in preparing lasting tombs and in adorning their walls with varied embellishments, that they must have thought the soul remained in the body, a conscious occupant of the dwelling place provided for it.9 As well might it be argued that, because the ancient savage tribes on the coast of South America, who obtained their support by fishing, buried fish hooks and bait with their dead, they supposed the dead bodies occupied themselves in their graves by fishing! The adornment of the tomb, so lavish and varied with the Egyptians, was a gratification of the spontaneous workings of fancy and affection, and needs no far fetched explanation. Every nation has its funeral customs and its rites of sepulture, many of which would be as difficult of explanation as those of Egypt. The Scandinavian sea king was sometimes buried, in his ship, in a grave dug on some headland overlooking the ocean. The Scythians buried their dead in rolls of gold, sometimes weighing forty or fifty solid pounds. Diodorus the Sicilian says, "The Egyptians, laying the embalmed bodies of their ancestors in noble monuments, see the true visages and expressions of those who died ages before them. So they take almost as great pleasure in viewing their bodily proportions and the lineaments of their faces as if they were still living among them." 10 That instinct which leads us to obtain portraits of those we love, and makes us unwilling to part even with their lifeless bodies, was the cause of embalming. The bodies thus prepared, we know from the testimony of ancient authors, were kept in the houses of their children or kindred, until a new generation, "who knew not Joseph," removed them. Then nothing could be more natural than that the priesthood should take advantage of the custom, so associated with sacred sentiments, and throw theological sanctions over it, shroud it in mystery, and secure a monopoly of the power and profit arising from it. It is not improbable, too, as has been suggested, that hygienic considerations, expressing themselves in political laws and priestly precepts, may at first have had an influence in establishing the habit of embalming, to prevent the pestilences apt to arise in such a climate from the decay of animal substances. There is great diversity of opinion among Egyptologists on this point. One thinks that embalming was supposed to keep the soul in the body until after the funeral judgment and interment, but that, when the corpse was laid in its final receptacle, the soul proceeded to accompany the sun in its daily and nocturnal circuit, or to transmigrate through various animals and deities. Another imagines that the process of embalming was believed to secure the repose of the soul in the other world, exempt from transmigrations, so long as the body was kept from decay.11 Perhaps the different notions on this subject attributed by modern authors to the Egyptians may all have prevailed among them at different times or among distinct sects. But it seems most likely, as we have said, that embalming first arose from physical and sentimental considerations naturally operating, rather than from any 8 Lib. iii. cap. 24. 9 Kenrick, Ancient Egypt, vol. i. ch. xxi. sect. iii. 10 Lib. i. cap. 7. 11 Library of Entertaining Knowledge, vol. ii. ch. iii. theological doctrine carefully devised; although, after the priesthood appropriated the business, it is altogether probable that they interwove it with an artificial and elaborate system of sacerdotal dogmas, in which was the hiding of the national power. The second question that arises is, What was the significance of the funeral ceremonies celebrated by the Egyptians over their dead? When the body had been embalmed, it was presented before a tribunal of forty two judges sitting in state on the eastern borders of the lake Acherusia. They made strict inquiry into the conduct and character of the deceased. Any one might make complaint against him, or testify in his behalf. If it was found that he had been wicked, had died in debt, or was otherwise unworthy, he was deprived of honorable burial and ignominiously thrown into a ditch. This was called Tartar, from the wailings the sentence produced among his relatives. But if he was found to have led an upright life, and to have been a good man, the honors of a regular interment were decreed him. The cemetery a large plain environed with trees and lined with canals lay on the western side of the lake, and was named Elisout, or rest. It was reached by a boat, the funeral barge, in which no one could cross without an order from the judges and the payment of a small fee. In these and other particulars some of the scenes supposed to be awaiting the soul in the other world were dramatically shadowed forth. Each rite was a symbol of a reality existing, in solemn correspondence, in the invisible state. What the priests did over the body on earth the judicial deities did over the soul in Amenthe. It seems plain that the Greeks derived many of their notions concerning the fate and state of the dead from Egypt. Hades corresponds with Amenthe; Pluto, with the subterranean Osiris; Mercury psychopompos, with Anubis, "the usher of souls;" Aacus, Minos, and Rhadamanthos, with the three assistant gods who help in weighing the soul and present the result to Osiris; Tartarus, to the ditch Tartar; Charon's ghost boat over the Styx, to the barge conveying the mummy to the tomb; Cerberus, to Oms; Acheron, to Acherusia; the Elysian Fields, to Elisout.12 Kenrick thinks the Greeks may have developed these views for themselves, without indebtedness to Egypt. But the notions were in existence among the Egyptians at least twelve hundred years before they can be traced among the Greeks.13 And they are too arbitrary and systematic to have been independently constructed by two nations. Besides, Herodotus positively affirms that they were derived from Egypt. Several other ancient authors also state this; and nearly every modern writer on the subject agrees in it. The triumphs of modern investigation into the antiquities of Egypt, unlocking the hieroglyphics and lifting the curtain from the secrets of ages, have unveiled to us a far more full and satisfactory view of the Egyptian doctrine of the future life than can be constructed from the narrow glimpses afforded by the accounts of the old Greek authorities. Three sources of knowledge have been laid open to us. First, the papyrus rolls, one of which was placed in the bosom of every mummy. This roll, covered with hieroglyphics, is called the funeral ritual, or book of the dead. It served as a passport through the burial rites. It contained the names of the deceased and his parents, a series of prayers he was to recite 12 Spineto on Egyptian Antiq, Lectures IV., V. 13 Wilkinson, Manners and Customs of the Ancient Egyptians, 2d Series, vol. i. ch. 12. before the various divinities he would meet on his journey, and representations of some of the adventures awaiting him in the unseen state.14 Secondly, the ornamental cases in which the mummies are enclosed are painted all over with scenes setting forth the realities and events to which the soul of the dead occupant has passed in the other life.15 Thirdly, the various fates of souls are sculptured and painted on the walls in the tombs, in characters which have been deciphered during the present century:16 "Those mystic, stony volumes on the walls long writ, Whose sense is late reveal'd to searching modern wit." Combining the information thus obtained, we learn that, according to the Egyptian representation, the soul is led by the god Thoth into Amenthe, the infernal world, the entrance to which lies in the extreme west, on the farther side of the sea, where the sun goes down under the earth. It was in accordance with this supposition that Herod caused to be engraved, on a magnificent monument erected to his deceased wife, the line, "Zeus, this blooming woman sent beyond the ocean." 17 At the entrance sits a wide throated monster, over whose head is the inscription, "This is the devourer of many who go into Amenthe, the lacerator of the heart of him who comes with sins to the house of justice." The soul next kneels before the forty two assessors of Osiris, with deprecating asseverations and intercessions. It then comes to the final trial in the terrible Hall of the two Truths, the approving and the condemning; or, as it is differently named, the Hall of the double Justice, the rewarding and the punishing. Here the three divinities Horns, Anubis, and Thoth proceed to weigh the soul in the balance. In one scale an image of Thmei, the goddess of Truth, is placed; in the other, a heart shaped vase, symbolizing the heart of the deceased with all the actions of his earthly life. Then happy is he "Who, weighed 'gainst Truth, down dips the awful scale." Thoth notes the result on a tablet, and the deceased advances with it to the foot of the throne on which sits Osiris, lord of the dead, king of Amenthe. He pronounces the decisive sentence, and his assistants see that it is at once executed. The condemned soul is either scourged back to the earth straightway, to live again in the form of a vile animal, as some of the emblems appear to denote; or plunged into the tortures of a horrid hell of fire and devils below, as numerous engravings set forth; or driven into the atmosphere, to be vexed and tossed by tempests, violently whirled in blasts and clouds, till its sins are expiated, and another probation granted through a renewed existence in human form. We have two accounts of the Egyptian divisions of the universe. According to the first view, they conceived the creation to consist of three grand departments. First came the earth, or zone of trial, where men live on probation. Next was the atmosphere, or zone of temporal 14 Das Todtenbuch der Agypter, edited with an introduction by Dr. Lepsius. 15 Ch. ix. of Pettigrew's History of Egyptian Mummies. 16 Champollion's Letter, dated Thebes, May 16, 1829. An abstract of this letter may be found in Stuart's trans. of Greppo's Essay on Champollion's Hieroglyphic System, appendix, note N. 17 Basnage, Hist. of the Jews, lib. ii. ch. 12, sect. 19. punishment, where souls are afflicted for their sins. The ruler of this girdle of storms was Pooh, the overseer of souls in penance. Such a notion is found in some of the later Greek philosophers, and in the writings of the Alexandrian Jews, who undoubtedly drew it from the priestly science of Egypt. Every one will recollect how Paul speaks of "the prince of the power off the air." And Shakspeare makes the timid Claudio shrink from the verge of death with horror, lest his soul should, through ages, "Be imprison'd in the viewless winds, And blown with restless violence round about The pendent world." After their purgation in this region, all the souls live again on earth by transmigration.18 The third realm was in the serene blue sky among the stars, the zone of blessedness, where the accepted dwell in immortal peace and joy. Eusebius says, "The Egyptians represented the universe by two circles, one within the other, and a serpent with the head of a hawk twining his folds around them," thus forming three spheres, earth, firmament, divinity. But the representation most frequent and imposing is that which pictures the creation simply as having the earth in the centre, and the sun with his attendants as circulating around it in the brightness of the superior, and the darkness of the infernal, firmament. Souls at death pass down through the west into Amenthe, and are tried. If condemned, they are either sent back to the earth, or confined in the nether space for punishment. If justified, they join the blissful company of the Sun God, and rise with him through the east to journey along his celestial course. The upper hemisphere is divided into twelve equal parts, corresponding with the twelve hours of the day. At the gate of each of these golden segments a sentinel god is stationed, to whom the newly arriving soul must give its credentials to secure a passage. In like manner, the lower hemisphere is cut into the same number of gloomy sections, corresponding with the twelve hours of the night. Daily the chief divinity, in robes of light, traverses the beaming zones of the blessed, where they hunt and fish, or plough and sow, reap and gather, in the Fields of the Sun on the banks of the heavenly Nile. Nightly, arrayed in deep black from head to foot, he traverses the dismal zones of the damned, where they undergo appropriate retributions. Thus the future destiny of man was sublimely associated with the march of the sun through the upper and lower hemispheres.19 Astronomy was a part of the Egyptian's theology. He regarded the stars not figuratively, but literally, as spirits and pure genii; the great planets as deities. The calendar was a religious chart, each month, week, day, hour, being the special charge and stand point of a god.20 There was much poetic beauty and ethical power in these doctrines and symbols. The necessity of virtue, the dread ordeals of the grave, the certainty of retribution, the mystic circuits of transmigration, a glorious immortality, the paths of planets and gods and souls through creation, all were impressively enounced, dramatically shown. 18 Liber Metempsychosis Veterum Agyptiorum, edited and translated into Latin from the funeral papyri by H. Brugsch. 19 L'Univers, Egypte Ancienne, par Champollion Figeac, pp. 123 145. 20 Agyptische Glaubenslehre von Dr. Ed. Roth, ss. 171, 174. "The Egyptain soul sail'd o'er the skyey sea In ark of crystal, mann'd by beamy gods, To drag the deeps of space and net the stars, Where, in their nebulous shoals, they shore the void And through old Night's Typhonian blindness shine. Then, solarized, he press'd towards the sun, And, in the heavenly Hades, hall of God, Had final welcome of the firmament." This solemn linking of the fate of man with the astronomic universe, this grand blending of the deepest of moral doctrines with the most august of physical sciences, plainly betrays the brain and hand of that hereditary hierarchy whose wisdom was the wonder of the ancient world. Osburn thinks the localization of Amenthe in the west may have arisen in the following way. Some superstitious Egyptians, travelling westwards, at twilight, on the great marshes haunted by the strange gray white ibis, saw troops of these silent, solemn, ghostlike birds, motionless or slow stalking, and conceived them to be souls waiting for the funeral rites to be paid, that they might sink with the setting sun to their destined abode.21 That such a system of belief was too complex and elaborate to have been a popular development is evident. But that it was really held by the people there is no room to doubt. Parts of it were publicly enacted on festival days by multitudes numbering more than a hundred thousand. Parts of it were dimly shadowed out in the secret recesses of temples, surrounded by the most astonishing accompaniments that unrivalled learning, skill, wealth, and power could contrive. Its authority commanded the allegiance, its charm fascinated the imagination, of the people. Its force built the pyramids, and enshrined whole generations of Egypt's embalmed population in richly adorned sepulchres of everlasting rock. Its substance of esoteric knowledge and faith, in its form of exoteric imposture and exhibition, gave it vitality and endurance long. In the vortex of change and decay it sank at last. And now it is only after its secrets have been buried for thirty centuries that the exploring genius of modern times has brought its hidden hieroglyphics to light, and taught us what were the doctrines originally contained in the altar lore of those priestly schools which once dotted the plains of the Delta and studded the banks of eldest Nile, where now, disfigured and gigantic, the solemn "Old Syhinxes lift their countenances bland Athwart the river sea and sea of sand." 21 Monumental History of Egypt, vol. i. ch. 8. CHAPTER VI. BRAHMANIC AND BUDDHIST DOCTRINE OF A FUTURE LIFE. IN the Hindu views of the fate of the human soul, metaphysical subtlety and imaginative vastness, intellect and fancy, slavish tradition and audacious speculation, besotted ritualism and heaven storming spirituality, are mingled together on a scale of grandeur and intensity wholly without a parallel elsewhere in the literature or faith of the world. Brahmanism, with its hundred million adherents holding sway over India, and Buddhism, with its four hundred million disciples scattered over a dozen nations, from Java to Japan, and from the Ceylonese to the Samoyedes, practically considered, in reference to their actually received dogmas and aims pertaining to a future life, agree sufficiently to warrant us in giving them a general examination together. The chief difference between them will be explained in the sequel. The most ancient Hindu doctrine of the future fate of man, as given in the Vedas, was simple, rude, and very unlike the forms in which it has since prevailed. Professor Wilson says, in the introduction to his translation of the Rig Veda, that the references to this subject in the primeval Sanscrit scriptures are sparse and incomplete. But no one has so thoroughly elucidated this obscure question as Roth of Tubingen, in his masterly paper on the Morality of the Vedas, of which there is a translation, by Professor Whitney, in the Journal of the American Oriental Society.1 The results of his researches may be stated in few words. When a man dies, the earth is invoked to wrap his body up, as a mother wraps her child in her garment, and to lie lightly on him. He himself is addressed thus: "Go forth, go forth on the ancient paths which our fathers in old times have trodden: the two rulers in bliss, Yama and Varuna, shalt thou behold." Varuna judges all. He thrusts the wicked down into darkness; and not a hint or clew further of their doom is furnished. They were supposed either to be annihilated, as Professor Roth thinks the Vedas imply, or else to live as demons, in sin, blackness, and woe. The good go up to heaven and are glorified with a shining spiritual body like that of the gods. Yama, the first man, originator of the human race on earth, is the beginner and head of renewed humanity in another world, and is termed the Assembler of Men. It is a poetic and grand conception that the first one who died, leading the way, should be the patriarch and monarch of all who follow. The old Vedic hymns imply that the departed good are in a state of exalted felicity, but scarcely picture forth any particulars. The following passage, versified with strict fidelity to the original, is as full and explicit as any: Where glory never fading is, where is the world of heavenly light, The world of immortality, the everlasting, set me there! Where Yama reigns, Vivasvat's son, in the inmost sphere of heaven bright. Where those abounding waters flow, oh, make me but immortal there! Where there is freedom unrestrain'd, where the triple vault of heaven's in sight, Where worlds of brightest glory are, oh, make me but immortal there! Where pleasures and enjoyments are, where bliss and raptures ne'er take flight, Where all desires are satisfied, oh, make me but immortal there! 1 Vol iii. pp. 342-346. But this form of doctrine long ago passed from the Hindu remembrance, lost in the multiplying developments and specifications of a mystical philosophy, and a teeming superstition nourished by an unbounded imagination. Both Brahmans and Buddhists conceive of the creation on the most enormous scale. Mount Meru rises from the centre of the earth to the height of about two millions of miles. On its summit is the city of Brahma, covering a space of fourteen thousand leagues, and surrounded by the stately cities of the regents of the spheres. Between Meru and the wall of stone forming the extreme circumference of the earth are seven concentric circles of rocks. Between these rocky bracelets are continents and seas. In some of the seas wallow single fishes thousands of miles in every dimension. The celestial spaces are occupied by a large number of heavens, called "dewa lokas," increasing in the glory and bliss of their prerogatives. The worlds below the earth are hells, called "naraka." The description of twenty eight of these, given in the Vishnu Purana,2 makes the reader "sup full of horrors." The Buddhist "Books of Ceylon" 3 tell of twenty six heavens placed in regular order above one another in the sky, crowded with all imaginable delights. They also depict, in the abyss underneath the earth, eight great hells, each containing sixteen smaller ones, the whole one hundred and thirty six composing one gigantic hell. The eight chief hells are situated over one another, each partially enclosing and overlapping that next beneath; and the sufferings inflicted on their unfortunate occupants are of the most terrific character. But these poor hints at the local apparatus of reward and punishment afford no conception whatever of the extent of their mythological scheme of the universe. They call each complete solar system a sakwala, and say that, if a wall were erected around the space occupied by a million millions of sakwalas, reaching to the highest heaven, and the entire space were filled with mustard seeds, a god might take these seeds, and, looking towards any one of the cardinal points, throw a single seed towards each sakwala until all the seeds were gone, and still there would be more sakwalas, in the same direction, to which no seed had been thrown, without considering those in the other three quarters of the heavens. In comparison with this Eastern vision of the infinitude of worlds, the wildest Western dreamer over the vistas opened by the telescope may hide his diminished head! Their other conceptions are of the same crushing magnitude, Thus, when the demons, on a certain occasion, assailed the gods, Siva using the Himalaya range for his bow, Vasuke for the string, Vishnu for his arrow, the earth for his chariot with the sun and moon for its wheels and the Vedas for its horses, the starry canopy for his banner with the tree of Paradise for its staff, Brahma for his charioteer, and the mysterious monosyllable Om for his whip reduced them all to ashes.4 The five hundred million Brahmanic and Buddhist believers hold that all the gods, men, demons, and various grades of animal life occupying this immeasurable array of worlds compose one cosmic family. The totality of animated beings, from a detestable gnat to 2 Wilson's trans. pp. 207-209. 3 Upham's trans. vol. iii. pp. 8, 66, 159. 4 Vans Kennedy, Ancient and Hindu Mythology, p. 429. thundering Indra, from the meanest worm to the supreme Buddha, constitute one fraternal race, by the unavoidable effects of the law of retribution constantly interchanging their residences in a succession of rising and sinking existences, ranging through all the earths, heavens, and hells of the universe, bound by the terrible links of merit and demerit in the phantasmagoric dungeon of births and deaths. The Vishnu Purana declares, "The universe, this whole egg of Brahma, is everywhere swarming with living creatures, all of whom are captives in the chains of acts." 5 The one prime postulate of these Oriental faiths the ground principle, never to be questioned any more than the central and stationary position of the earth in the Ptolemaic system is that all beings below the Infinite One are confined in the circle of existence, the whirl of births and deaths, by the consequences of their virtues and vices. When a man dies, if he has an excess of good desert, he is born, as a superior being, in one of the heavens. According to the nature and degree of his merit, his heavenly existence is prolonged, or perhaps repeated many times in succession; or, if his next birth occurs on earth, it is under happy circumstances, as a sage or a king. But when he expires, should there, on the other hand, be an overbalance of ill desert, he is born as a demon in one of the hells, or may in repeated lives run the circuit of the hells; or, if he at once returns to the earth, it is as a beggar, a leprous outcast, a wretched cripple, or in the guise of a rat, a snake, or a louse. "The illustrious souls of great and virtuous men In godlike beings shall revive again; But base and vicious spirits wind their way In scorpions, vultures, sharks, and beasts of prey. The fair, the gay, the witty, and the brave, The fool, the coward, courtier, tyrant, slave, Each one in a congenial form, shall find A proper dwelling for his wandering mind." A specific evil is never cancelled by being counterbalanced by a greater good. The fruit of that evil must be experienced, and also of that greater good, by appropriate births in the hells and heavens, or in the higher and lower grades of earthly existence. The two courses of action must be run through independently. This is what is meant by the phrases, so often met with in Oriental works, "eating the fruits of former acts," "bound in the chains of deeds." Merit or demerit can be balanced or neutralized only by the full fruition of its own natural and necessary consequences.6 The law of merit and of demerit is fate. It works irresistibly, through all changes and recurrences, from the beginning to the end. The cessation of virtue or of vice does not put an end to its effects until its full force is exhausted; as an arrow continues in flight until all its imparted power is spent. A man faultlessly and scrupulously good through his present life may be guilty of some foul crime committed a hundred lives before and not yet expiated. Accordingly, he may now suffer for it, or his next birth may take place in a hell. On the contrary, he may be credited with some great merit acquired thousands of 5 P. 286. 6 Journal of the American Oriental Society, vol. iv. p. 87. generations ago, whose fruit he has not eaten, and which may bring him good fortune in spite of present sins, or on the rolling and many colored wheel of metempsychosis may secure for him next a celestial birthplace. In short periods, it will be seen, there is moral confusion, but, in the long run, exact compensation. The exuberant prodigiousness of the Hindu imagination is strikingly manifest in its descriptions of the rewards of virtue in the heavens and of the punishments of sin in the hells. Visions pass before us of beautiful groves full of fragrance and music, abounding in delicious fruits, and birds of gorgeous plumage, crystal streams embedded with pearls, unruffled lakes where the lotus blooms, palaces of gems, crowds of friends and lovers, endless revelations of truth, boundless graspings of power, all that can stir and enchant intellect, will, fancy, and heart. In some of the heavens the residents have no bodily form, but enjoy purely spiritual pleasures. In others they are self resplendent, and traverse the ether. They are many miles in height, one being described whose crown was four miles high and who wore on his person sixty wagon loads of jewels. The ordinary lifetime of the inhabitants of the dewa loka named Wasawartti equals nine billions two hundred and sixteen millions of our years. They breathe only once in sixteen hours. The reverse of this picture is still more vigorously drawn, highly colored, and diversified in contents. The walls of the Hindu hell are over a hundred miles thick; and so dazzling is their brightness that it bursts the eyes which look at them anywhere within a distance of four hundred leagues.7 The poor creatures here, wrapped in shrouds of fire, writhe and yell in frenzy of pain. The very revelry and ecstasy of terror and anguish fill the whole region. The skins of some wretches are taken off from head to foot, and then scalding vinegar is poured over them. A glutton is punished thus: experiencing an insatiable hunger in a body as large as three mountains, he is tantalized with a mouth no larger than the eye of a needle.8 The infernal tormentors, throwing their victims down, take a flexible flame in each hand, and with these lash them alternately right and left. One demon, Rahu, is seventy six thousand eight hundred miles tall: the palm of his hand measures fifty thousand acres; and when he is enraged he rushes up the sky and swallows the sun or the moon, thus causing an eclipse! In the Asiatic Journal for 1840 is an article on "The Chinese Judges of the Dead," which describes a series of twenty four paintings of hell found in a Buddhist temple. Devils in human shapes are depicted pulling out the tongues of slanderers with redhot wires, pouring molten lead down the throats of liars, with burning prongs tossing souls upon mountains planted with hooks of iron reeking with the blood of those who have gone before, screwing the damned between planks, pounding them in husking mortars, grinding them in rice mills, while other fiends, in the shape of dogs, lap up their oozing gore. But the hardest sensibility must by this time cry, Hold! With the turmoil and pain of entanglement in the vortex of births, and all the repulsive exposures of finite life, the Hindus contrast the idea of an infinite rest and bliss, an endless 7 Hardy, Manual of Buddhism, p. 26. 8 Coleman, Mythology of the Hindus, p. 198. exemption from evil and struggle, an immense receptivity of reposing power and quietistic contemplation. In consequence of their endlessly varied, constantly recurring, intensely earnest speculations and musings over this contrast of finite restlessness and pain with infinite peace and blessedness, a contrast which constitutes the preaching of their priests, saturates their sacred books, fills their thoughts, and broods over all their life, the Orientals are pervaded with a profound horror of individual existence, and with a profound desire for absorption into the Infinite Being. A few quotations from their own authors will illustrate this: "A sentient being in the repetition of birth and death is like a worm in the midst of a nest of ants, like a lizard in the hollow of a bamboo that is burning at both ends."9 "Emancipation from all existence is the fulness of felicity."10 "The being who is still subject to birth may now sport in the beautiful gardens of heaven, now be cut to pieces in hell; now be Maha Brahma, now a degraded outcast; now sip nectar, now drink blood; now repose on a couch with gods, now be dragged through a thicket of thorns; now reside in a mansion of gold, now be exposed on a mountain of lava; now sit on the throne of the gods, now be impaled amidst hungry dogs; now be a king glittering with countless gems, now a mendicant taking a skull from door to door to beg alms; now eat ambrosia as the monarch of a dewa loka, now writhe and die as a bat in the shrivelling flame."11 "The Supreme Soul and the human soul do not differ, and pleasure or pain ascribable to the latter arises from its imprisonment in the body. The water of the Ganges is the same whether it run in the river's bed or be shut up in a decanter; but a drop of wine added to the water in the decanter imparts its flavor to the whole, whereas it would be lost in the river. The Supreme Soul, therefore, is beyond accident; but the human soul is afflicted by sense and passion. Happiness is only obtained in reunion with the Supreme Soul, when the dispersed individualities combine again with it, as the drops of water with the parent stream. Hence the slave should remember that he is separated from God by the body alone, and exclaim, perpetually, 'Blessed be the moment when I shall lift the veil from off that face! the veil of the face of my Beloved is the dust of my body.'"12 "A pious man was once born on earth, who, in his various transmigrations, had met eight hundred and twenty five thousand Buddhas. He remembered his former states, but could not enumerate how many times he had been a king, a beggar, a beast, an occupant of hell. He uttered these words: 'A hundred thousand years of the highest happiness on earth are not equal to the happiness of one day in the dewa lokas; and a hundred thousand years of the deepest misery on earth are not equal to the misery of one day in hell; but the misery of hell is reckoned by millions of centuries. Oh, how shall I escape, and obtain eternal bliss?'" 13 9 Eastern Monachism, p. 247. 10 Vishnu Purana, p. 568. 11 Hardy, Manual of Buddhism, p. 454. 12 Asiatic Researches, vol. xvii. p. 298. 13 Journal of the American Oriental Society, vol. iv. p. 114. The literary products of the Eastern mind wonderfully abound with painful descriptions of the compromises, uncleannesses, and afflictions inseparably connected with existence. Volumes would be required to furnish an adequate representation of the vivid and inexhaustible amplification with which they set forth the direful disgusts and loathsome terrors associated with the series of ideas expressed by the words conception, birth, life, death, hell, and regeneration. The fifth chapter in the sixth book of the Vishnu Purana affords a good specimen of these details; but, to appreciate them fully, one must peruse dispersed passages in a hundred miscellaneous works: "As long as man lives, he is immersed in afflictions, like the seed of the cotton amidst the down. . . . Where could man, scorched by the fires of the sun of this world, look for felicity, were it not for the shade afforded by the tree of emancipation? . . . Travelling the path of the world for many thousands of births, man attains only the weariness of bewilderment, and is smothered by the dust of imagination. When that dust is washed away by the bland water of real knowledge, then the weariness is removed. Then the internal man is at peace, and obtains supreme felicity."14 The result of these views is the awakening of an unquenchable desire to "break from the fetters of existence," to be "delivered from the whirlpool of transmigration." Both Brahmanism and Buddhism are in essence nothing else than methods of securing release from the chain of incarnated lives, and attaining to identification with the Infinite. There is a text in the Apocalypse which may be strikingly applied to this exemption from further metempsychosis: "Him that overcometh I will make a pillar in the temple of my God, and he shall go no more out forever." The testimony of all who have investigated the subject agrees with the following assertion by Professor Wilson: "The common end of every system studied by the Hindus is the ascertainment of the means by which perpetual exemption from the necessity of repeated births may be won."15 In comparison with this aim, every thing else is utterly insignificant. Prahlada, on being offered by Vishnu any boon he might ask, exclaimed, "Wealth, virtue, love, are as nothing; for even liberation is in his reach whose faith is firm in thee." And Vishnu replied, "Thou shalt, therefore, obtain freedom from existence."16 All true Orientals, however favored or persecuted by earthly fortune, still cry night and day upwards into the infinite, with outstretched arms and yearning voice, "O Lord, our separate lives destroy! Merge in thy gold our souls' alloy: Pain is our own, and Thou art Joy!" According to the system of Brahmanism, the creation is regularly called into being and again destroyed at the beginning and end of certain stupendous epochs called kalpas. Four thousand three hundred and twenty million years make a day of Brahma. At the end of this day the lower worlds are consumed by fire; and Brahma sleeps on the abyss for a night as long 14 Vishnu Parana, p. 650. 15 Sankhya Karika, preface, p. 3. 16 Vishnu Purana, p. 144. as his day. During this night the saints, who in high Jana loka have survived the dissolution of the lower portions of the universe, contemplate the slumbering deity until he wakes and restores the mutilated creation. Three hundred and sixty of these days and nights compose a year of Brahma; a hundred such years measure his whole life. Then a complete destruction of all things takes place, every thing merging into the Absolute One, until he shall rouse himself renewedly to manifest his energies.17 Although created beings who have not obtained emancipation are destroyed in their individual forms at the periods of the general dissolution, yet, being affected by the good or evil acts of former existence, they are never exempted from their consequences, and when Brahma creates the world anew they are the progeny of his will, in the fourfold condition of gods, men, animals, and inanimate things.18 And Buddhism embodies virtually the same doctrine, declaring "the whole universe of sakwalas to be subject alternately to destruction and renovation, in a series of revolutions to which neither beginning nor end can be discovered." What is the Brahmanic method of salvation, or secret of emancipation? Rightly apprehended in the depth and purity of the real doctrine, it is this. There is in reality but ONE SOUL: every thing else is error, illusion, misery. Whoever acquires the knowledge of this truth by personal perception is thereby liberated. He has won the absolute perfection of the unlimited Godhead, and shall never be born again. "Whosoever views the Supreme Soul as manifold, dies death after death." God is formless, but seems to assume form; as moonlight, impinging upon various objects, appears crooked or straight.19 Bharata says to the king of Sauriva, "The great end of all is not union of self with the Supreme Soul, because one substance cannot become another. The true wisdom, the genuine aim of all, is to know that Soul is one, uniform, perfect, exempt from birth, omnipresent, undecaying, made of true knowledge, dissociated with unrealities."20 "It is ignorance alone which enables Maya to impress the mind with a sense of individuality; for as soon as that is dispelled it is known that severalty exists not, and that there is nothing but one undivided Whole." 21 The Brahmanic scriptures say, "The Eternal Deity consists of true knowledge." "Brahma that is Supreme is produced of reflection."22 The logic runs thus. There is only One Soul, the absolute God. All beside is empty deception. That One Soul consists of true knowledge. Whoever attains to true knowledge, therefore, is absolute God, forever freed from the sphere of semblances. The foregoing exposition is philosophical and scriptural Brahmanism. But there are numerous schismatic sects which hold opinions diverging from it in regard to the nature and destiny of the human soul. They may be considered in two classes. First, there are some who defend the idea of the personal immortality of the soul. The Siva Gnana Potham "establishes the doctrine of the soul's eternal existence as an individual being." 23 The Saiva school 17 Vishnu Purana, p. 25. Hardy, Manual of Buddhism, p. 33, note. 18 Vishnu Parana, pp. 39, 116. 19 Colebrooke, Essays, vol. i. p. 359. 20 Vishnu Purana, p. 252. 21 Vans Kennedy, Ancient and Hindu Mythology, p. 201. 22 Vishnu Purana, pp. 546, 642. 23 Journal of the American Oriental Society, vol. ii. p. 141. teach that when, at the close of every great period, all other developed existences are rendered back to their primordial state, souls are excepted. These, once developed and delivered from the thraldom of their merit and demerit, will ever remain intimately united with Deity and clothed in the resplendent wisdom.24 Secondly, there are others and probably at the present time they include a large majority of the Brahmans who believe in the real being both of the Supreme Soul and of separate finite souls, conceiving the latter to be individualized parts of the former and their true destiny to consist in securing absorption into it. The relation of the soul to God, they maintain, is not that of ruled and ruler, but that of part and whole. "As gold is one substance still, however diversified as bracelets, tiaras, ear rings, or other things, so Vishnu is one and the same, although modified in the forms of gods, animals, and men. As the drops of water raised from the earth by the wind sink into the earth again when the wind subsides, so the variety of gods, men, and animals, which have been detached by the agitation of the qualities, are reunited, when the disturbance ceases, with the Eternal." 25 "The whole obtains its destruction in God, like bubbles in water." The Madhava sect believe that there is a personal All Soul distinct from the human soul. Their proofs are detailed in one of the Maha Upanishads.26 These two groups of sects, however, agree perfectly with the ancient orthodox Brahmans in accepting the fundamental dogma of a judicial metempsychosis, wherein each one is fastened by his acts and compelled to experience the uttermost consequences of his merit or demerit. They all coincide in one common aspiration as regards the highest end, namely, emancipation from the necessity of repeated births. The difference between the three is, that the one class of dissenters expect the fruition of that deliverance to be a finite personal immortality in heaven; the other interpret it as an unwalled absorption in the Over Soul, like a breath in the air; while the more orthodox believers regard it as the entire identity of the soul with the Infinite One. Against the opinion that there is only one Soul for all bodies, as one string supports all the gems of a necklace, some Hindu philosophers argue that the plurality of souls is proved by the consideration that, if there were but one soul, then when any one was born, or died, or was lame, or deaf, or occupied, or idle, all would at once be born, die, be lame, deaf, occupied, or idle. But Professor Wilson says, "This doctrine of the multitudinous existence or individual incorporation of Soul clearly contradicts the Vedas. They affirm one only existent soul to be distributed in all beings. It is beheld collectively or dispersedly, like the reflection of the moon in still or troubled water. Soul, eternal, omnipresent, undisturbed, pure, one, is multiplied by the power of delusion, not of its own nature."27 All the Brahmanic sects unite in thinking that liberation from the net of births is to be obtained and the goal of their wishes to be reached by one means only; and that is knowledge, real wisdom, an adequate sight of the truth. Without this knowledge there is no possible emancipation; but there are three ways of seeking the needed knowledge. 24 Ibid. vol. iv. p. 15. 25 Vishnu Purana, p. 287. 26 Weber, Akademische Vorlesungen uber Indische Literaturgeschichte, s. 160. 27 Sankbya Karika, p. 70. Some strive, by direct intellectual abstraction and effort, by metaphysical speculation, to grasp the true principles of being. Others try, by voluntary penance, self abnegation, and pain, to accumulate such a degree of merit, or to bring the soul into such a state of preparedness, as will compel the truth to reveal itself. And still others devote themselves to the worship of some chosen deity, by ritual acts and fervid contemplation, to obtain by his favor the needed wisdom. A few quotations may serve to illustrate the Brahmanic attempts at winning this one thing needful, the knowledge which yields exemption from all incarnate lives. The Sankhya philosophy is a regular system of metaphysics, to be studied as one would study algebra. It presents to its disciples an exhaustive statement of the forms of being in twenty five categories, and declares, "He who knows the twenty five principles, whatever order of life he may have entered, and whether he wear braided hair, a top knot only, or be shaven, he is liberated." "This discriminative wisdom releases forever from worldly bondage."28 "The virtuous is born again in heaven, the wicked is born again in hell; the fool wanders in error, the wise man is set free." "By ignorance is bondage, by knowledge is deliverance." "When Nature finds that soul has discovered that it is to her the distress of migration is owing, she is put to shame by the detection, and will suffer herself to be seen no more."29 "Through knowledge the sage is absorbed into Supreme Spirit."30 "The Supreme Spirit attracts to itself him who meditates upon it, as the loadstone attracts the iron."31 "He who seeks to obtain a knowledge of the Soul is gifted with it, the Soul rendering itself conspicuous to him." "Man, having known that Nature which is without a beginning or an end, is delivered from the grasp of death." "Souls are absorbed in the Supreme Soul as the reflection of the sun in water returns to him on the removal of the water."32 The thought underlying the last statement is that there is only one Soul, every individual consciousness being but an illusory semblance, and that the knowledge of this fact constitutes the all coveted emancipation. As one diffusive breath passing through the perforations of a flute is distinguished as the several notes of the scale, so the Supreme Spirit is single, though, in consequence of acts, it seems manifold. As every placid lakelet holds an unreal image of the one real moon sailing above, so each human soul is but a deceptive reflection of the one veritable Soul, or God. It may be worth while to observe that Plotinus, as is well known, taught the doctrine of the absolute identity of each soul with the entire and indistinguishable entity of God: "Though God extends beyond creation's rim, Yet every being holds the whole of him." It belongs to an unextended substance, an immateriality, to be everywhere by totality, not by portions. If God be omnipresent, he cannot be so dividedly, a part of him here and a part 28 Ibid. pp. 1, 16. 29 Ibid. pp. 48, 142, 174. 30 Vishnu Purana, p. 57. 31 Ibid. p. 651. 32 Rammohun Roy, Translations from the Veda, 2d ed., London, 1832, pp. 69, 39, 10. of him there; but the whole of him must be in every particle of matter, in every point of space, in all infinitude. The Brahmanic religion is a philosophy; and it keeps an incomparably strong hold on the minds of its devotees. Its most vital and comprehensive principle is expressed in the following sentence: "The soul itself is not susceptible of pain, or decay, or death; the site of these things is nature; but nature is unconscious; the consciousness that pain exists is restricted to the soul, although the soul is not the actual seat of pain." This is the reason why every Hindu yearns so deeply to be freed from the meshes of nature, why he so anxiously follows the light of faith and penance, or the clew of speculation, through all mazes of mystery. It is that he may at last gaze on the central TRUTH, and through that sight seize the fruition of the supreme and eternal good of man in the unity of his selfhood with the Infinite, and so be born no more and experience no more trouble. It is very striking to contrast with this profound and gorgeous dream of the East, whatever form it assumes, the more practical and definite thought of the West, as expressed in these lines of Tennyson's "In Memoriam:" "That each, who seems a separate whole, Should move his rounds, and, fusing all The skirts of self again, should fall Remerging in the general Soul, Is faith as vague as all unsweet: Eternal form shall still divide The eternal soul from all beside, And I shall know him when we meet." But is it not still more significant to notice that, in the lines which immediately succeed, the love inspired and deep musing genius of the English thinker can find ultimate repose only by recurring to the very faith of the Hindu theosophist? "And we shall sit at endless feast, Enjoying each the other's good: What vaster dream can hit the mood Of Love on earth! He seeks at least Upon the last and sharpest height, Before the spirits fade away, Some landing place, to clasp and say, Farewell! We lose ourselves in light!" We turn now to the Buddhist doctrine of a future life as distinguished from the Brahmanic. The "Four Sublime Truths" of Buddhism, as they are called, are these: first, that there is sorrow; secondly, that every living person necessarily feels it; thirdly, that it is desirable to be freed from it; fourthly, that the only deliverance from it is by that pure knowledge which destroys all cleaving to existence. A Buddha is a being who, in consequence of having reached the Buddhaship, which implies the possession of infinite goodness, infinite power, and infinite wisdom, is able to teach men that true knowledge which secures emancipation. The Buddhaship that is, the possession of Supreme Godhead is open to every one, though few ever acquire it. Most wonderful and tremendous is the process of its attainment. Upon a time, some being, perhaps then incarnate as a mosquito alighting on a muddy leaf in some swamp, pauses for a while to muse. Looking up through infinite stellar systems, with hungry love and boundless ambition, to the throne and sceptre of absolute immensity, he vows within himself, "I will become a Buddha." The total influences of his past, the forces of destiny, conspiring with his purpose, omnipotence is in that resolution. Nothing shall ever turn him aside from it. He might soon acquire for himself deliverance from the dreadful vortex of births; but, determined to achieve the power of delivering others from their miseries as sentient beings, he voluntarily throws himself into the stream of successive existences, and with divine patience and fortitude undergoes every thing. From that moment, no matter in what form he is successively born, whether as a disgusting bug, a white elephant, a monarch, or a god, he is a Bodhisat, that is, a candidate pressing towards the Buddhaship. He at once begins practising the ten primary virtues, called paramitas, necessary for the securing of his aim. The period required for the full exercise of one of these virtues is a bhumi. Its duration is thus illustrated. Were a Bodhisat once in a thousand births to shed a single drop of blood, he would in the space of a bhumi shed more blood than there is water in a thousand oceans. On account of his merit he might always be born amidst the pleasures of the heavens; but since he could there make no progress towards his goal, he prefers being born in the world of men. During his gradual advance, there is no good he does not perform, no hardship he does not undertake, no evil he does not willingly suffer; and all for the benefit of others, to obtain the means of emancipating those whom he sees fastened by ignorance in the afflictive circle of acts. Wherever born, acting, or suffering, his eye is still turned towards that EMPTY THRONE, at the apex of the universe, from which the last Buddha has vaulted into Nirwana. The Buddhists have many scriptures, especially one, called the "Book of the Five Hundred and Fifty Births," detailing the marvellous adventures of the Bodhisat during his numerous transmigrations, wherein he exhibits for each species of being to which he belongs a model character and life. At length the momentous day dawns when the unweariable Bodhisat enters on his well earned Buddhaship. From that time, during the rest of his life, he goes about preaching discourses, teaching every prepared creature he meets the method of securing eternal deliverance. Leaving behind in these discourses a body of wisdom sufficient to guide to salvation all who will give attentive ear and heart, the Buddha then his sublime work of disinterested love being completed receives the fruition of his toil, the super essential prize of the universe, the Infinite Good. In a word, he dies, and enters Nirwana. There is no more evil of any sort for him at all forever. The final fading echo of sorrow has ceased in the silence of perfect blessedness; the last undulation of the wave of change has rolled upon the shore of immutability. The only historic Buddha is Sakya Muni, or Gotama, who was born at Kapila about six centuries before Christ. His teachings contain many principles in common with those of the Brahmans. But he revolted against their insufferable conceit and cruelty. He protested against their claim that no one could obtain emancipation until after being born as a Brahman and passing through the various rites and degrees of their order. In the face of the most powerful and arrogant priesthood in the world, he preached the perfect equality of all mankind, and the consequent abolition of castes. Whoever acquires a total detachment of affection from all existence is thereby released from birth and misery; and the means of acquiring that detachment are freely offered to all in his doctrine. Thus did Gotama preach. He took the monopoly of religion out of the hands of a caste, and proclaimed emancipation to every creature that breathes. He established his system in the valley of the Ganges near the middle of the sixth century before Christ. It soon overran the whole country, and held sway until about eight hundred years after Christ, when an awful persecution and slaughter on the part of the uprising Brahmans drove it out of the land with sword and fire. "The colossal figure which for fourteen centuries had bestridden the Indian continent vanished suddenly, like a rainbow at sunset."33 Gotama's philosophy, in its ontological profundity, is of a subtlety and vastness that would rack the brain of a Fichte or a Schelling; but, popularly stated, so far as our present purpose demands, it is this. Existence is the one all inclusive evil; cessation of existence, or Nirwana, is the infinite good. The cause of existence is ignorance, which leads one to cleave to existing objects; and this cleaving leads to reproduction. If one would escape from the chain of existence, he must destroy the cause of his confinement in it, that is, evil desire, or the cleaving to existing objects. The method of salvation in Gotama's system is to vanquish and annihilate all desire for existing things. How is this to be done? By acquiring an intense perception of the miseries of existence, on the one hand, and an intense perception, on the other hand, of the contrasted desirableness of the state of emancipation, or Nirwana. Accordingly, the discourses of Gotama, and the sacred books of the Buddhists, are filled with vivid accounts of every thing disgusting and horrible connected with existence, and with vivid descriptions, consciously faltering with inadequacy, of every thing supremely fascinating in connection with Nirwana. "The three reflections on the impermanency, suffering, and unreality of the body are three gates leading to the city of Nirwana." The constant claim is, that whosoever by adequate moral discipline and philosophical contemplation attains to a certain degree of wisdom, a certain degree of intellectual insight, instead of any longer cleaving to existence, will shudder at the thought of it, and, instead of shrinking from death, will be ravished with unfathomable ecstasy by the prospect of Nirwana. Then, when he dies, he is free from all liability to a return. When Gotama, early in life, had accidentally seen in succession a wretchedly decrepit old man, a loathsomely diseased man, and a decomposing dead man, then the three worlds of passion, matter, and spirit seemed to him like a house on fire, and he longed to be extricated from the dizzy whirl of existence, and to reach the still haven of Nirwana. Finding ere long that he had now, as the reward of his incalculable endurances through untold aons past, become Buddha, he said to himself, "You have borne the misery of the whole round of transmigrations, and have arrived at infinite wisdom, which is the highway to Nirwana, the 33 Major Cunningham, Bbilsa Topes, or Buddhist Monuments of Central India, p. 168. city of peace. On that road you are the guide of all beings. Begin your work and pursue it with fidelity." From that time until the day of his death he preached "the three laws of mortality, misery, and mutability." Every morning he looked through the world to see who should be caught that day in the net of truth, and took his measures accordingly to preach in the hearing of men the truths by which alone they could climb into Nirwana. When he was expiring, invisible gods, with huge and splendid bodies, came and stood, as thick as they could be packed, for a hundred and twenty miles around the banyan tree under which he awaited Nirwana, to gaze on him who had broken the circle of transmigration.34 The system of Gotama distinguishes seven grades of being: six subject to repeated death and birth; one the condition of the rahats and the Buddhaship exempt therefrom. "Who wins this has reached the shore of the stormy ocean of vicissitudes, and is in safety forever." Baur says, "The aim of Buddhism is that all may obtain unity with the original empty Space, so as to unpeople the worlds."35 This end it seeks by purification from all modes of cleaving to existing objects, and by contemplative discrimination, but never by the fanatical and austere methods of Brahmanism. Edward Upham, in his History of Buddhism, declares this earth to be the only ford to Nirwana. Others also make the same representation: "For all that live and breathe have once been men, And in succession will be such again." But the Buddhist authors do not always adhere to this statement. We sometimes read of men's entering the paths to Nirwana in some of the heavens, likewise of their entering the final fruition through a decease in a dewa loka. Still, it is the common view that emancipation from all existence can be secured only by a human being on earth. The last birth must be in that form. The emblem of Buddha, engraved on most of his monuments, is a wheel, denoting that he has finished and escaped from the circle of existences. Henceforth he is named Tathagata, he who has gone. Let us notice a little more minutely what the Buddhists say of Nirwana; for herein to them hides all the power of their philosophy and lies the absorbing charm of their religion. "The state that is peaceful, free from body, from passion, and from fear, where birth or death is not, that is Nirwana." "Nirwana puts an end to coming and going, and there is no other happiness." "It is a calm wherein no wind blows." "There is no difference in Nirwana." "It is the annihilation of all the principles of existence." "Nirwana is the completion and opposite shore of existence, free from decay, tranquil, knowing no restraint, and of great blessedness." "Nirwana is unmixed satisfaction, entirely free from sorrow." "The wind cannot be squeezed in the hand, nor can its color be told. Yet the wind is. Even so Nirwana is, but its properties cannot be told." "Nirwana, like space, is causeless, does not live nor die, and has no locality. It is the abode of those liberated from existence." "Nirwana is not, except to the being who attains it."36 34 Life of Gotama in Journal of the American Oriental Society, vol. iii. 35 Symbolik and Mythologie, th. ii. abth. 2, s. 407. 36 For these quotations, and others similar, see Hardy's valuable work, "Eastern Monachism," chap. xxii., on "Nirwana, its Paths and Fruition." Some scholars maintain that the Buddhist Nirwana is nothing but the atheistic Annihilation. The subject is confessedly a most difficult one. But it seems to us that the opinion just stated is the very antithesis of the true interpretation of Nirwana. In the first place, it should be remembered that there are various sects of Buddhists. Now, the word Nirwana may be used in different senses by different schools.37 A few persons a small party, represented perhaps by able writers may believe in annihilation in our sense of the term, just as has happened in Christendom, while the common doctrine of the people is the opposite of that. In the second place, with the Oriental horror of individuated existence, and a highly poetical style of writing, nothing could be more natural, in depicting their ideas of the most desirable state of being, than that they should carry their metaphors expressive of repose, freedom from action and emotion, to a pitch conveying to our cold and literal thought the conceptions of blank unconsciousness and absolute nothingness. Colebrooke says, "Nirwana is not annihilation, but unceasing apathy. The notion of it as a happy state seems derived from the experience of ecstasies; or else the pleasant, refreshed feeling with which one wakes from profound repose is referred to the period of actual sleep."38 A Buddhist author speculates thus: "That the soul feels not during profound trance, is not for want of sensibility, but for want of sensible objects." Wilson, Hodgson, and Vans Kennedy three able thinkers, as well as scholars, in this field agree that Nirwana is not annihilation as we understand that word. Mr. Hodgson believes that the Buddhists expect to be "conscious in Nirwana of the eternal bliss of rest, as they are in this world of the ceaseless pain of activity." Forbes also argues against the nihilistic explanation of the Buddhist doctrine of futurity, and says he is compelled to conclude that Nirwana denotes imperishable being in a blissful quietude.39 Many additional authorities in favor of this view might be adduced, enough to balance, at least, the names on the other side. Koeppen, in his very fresh, vigorous, and lucid work, just published, entitled "The Religion of Buddha, and its Origin," says, "Nirwana is the blessed Nothing. Buddhism is the Gospel of Annihilation." But he forgets that the motto on the title page of his volume is the following sentence quoted from Sakya Muni himself: "To those who know the concatenation of causes and effects, there is neither being nor nothing." To them Nirwana is. Considering it, then, as an open question, unsettled by any authoritative assertion, we will weigh the probabilities of the case. No definition of Nirwana is more frequent than the one given by the Kalpa Sutra,40 namely, "cessation from action and freedom from desire." But this, like many of the other representations, such, for instance, as the exclusion of succession, very plainly is not a denial of all being, but only of our present modes of experience. The dying Gotama is said to have "passed through the several states, one after another, until he arrived at the state where there is no pain. He then continued to enter the other higher states, and from the highest entered Nirwana." Can literal annihilation, the naked emptiness of nonentity, be better than 37 Burnouf, Introduction a l'Histoire du Buddhisme Indien, Appendice No. I., Du mot Nirvana. 38 Colebrooke, Essays, vol. i. p. 353. 39 Eleven Years in Ceylon, vol. ii. chap. ix. 40 Tanslation by Dr. Stevenson, p. 23. the highest state of being? It can be so only when we view Nothing on the positive side as identical with All, make annihilating deprivation equivalent to universal bestowment, regard negation as affirmation, and, in the last synthesis of contradictions, see the abysmal Vacuum as a Plenum of fruition. As Oken says, "The ideal zero is absolute unity; not a singularity, as the number one, but an indivisibility, a numberlessness, a homogeneity, a translucency, a pure identity. It is neither great nor small, quiescent nor moved; but it is, and it is not, all this."41 Furthermore, if some of the Buddhist representations would lead us to believe that Nirwana is utter nothingness, others apparently imply the opposite. "The discourses of Buddha are a charm to cure the poison of evil desire; a succession of fruit bearing trees placed here and there to enable the traveller to cross the desert of existence; a power by which every sorrow may be appeased; a door of entrance to the eternal city of Nirwana." "The mind of the rahat" (one who has obtained assurance of emancipation and is only waiting for it to arrive) "knows no disturbance, because it is filled with the pleasure of Nirwana." "The sight of Nirwana bestows perfect happiness." "The rahat is emancipated from existence in Nirwana, as the lotus is separated from the mud out of which it springs." "Fire may be produced by rubbing together two sticks, though previously it had no locality: it is the same with Nirawna." "Nirwana is free from danger, peaceful, refreshing, happy. When a man who has been broiled before a huge fire is released, and goes quickly into some open space, he feels the most agreeable sensation. All the evils of existence are that fire, and Nirwana is that open space." These passages indicate the cessation in Nirwana of all sufferings, perhaps of all present modes of existence, but not the total end of being. It may be said that these are but figurative expressions. The reply is, so are the contrasted statements metaphors, and it is probable that the expressions which denote the survival of pure being in Nirwana are closer approximations to the intent of their authors than those which hint at an unconscious vacancy. If Nirwana in its original meaning was an utter and infinite blank, then, "out of that very Nothing," as Max Muller says, "human nature made a new paradise." There is a scheme of doctrine held by some Buddhist philosophers which may be thus stated. There are five constituent elements of sentient existence. They are called khandas, and are as follows: the organized body, sensation, perception, discrimination, and consciousness. Death is the dissolution and entire destruction of these khandas, and apart from them there is no synthetical unit, soul, or personality. Yet in a certain sense death is not the absolute annihilation of a human existence, because it leaves a potentiality inherent in that existence. There is no identical ego to survive and be born again; but karma that is, the sum of a man's action, his entire merit and demerit produces at his death a new being, and so on in continued series until Nirwana is attained. Thus the succession of being is kept up with transmitted responsibility, as a flame is transferred from one wick to another. It is evident enough, as is justly claimed by Hardy and others, that the limitation of existence to the five khandas, excluding the idea of any independent individuality, makes death 41 Elements of Physiophilosophy, Tulk's trans. p. 9. annihilation, and renders the very conception of a future life for those now living an absurdity. But we are convinced that this view is the speculative peculiarity of a sect, and by no means the common belief of the Buddhist populace or the teaching of Gotama himself. This appears at the outset from the fact that Gotama is represented as having lived through millions of existences, in different states and worlds, with preserved identity and memory. The history of his concatenated advance towards the Buddhaship is the supporting basis and the saturating spirit of documentary Buddhism. And the same idea pervades the whole range of narratives relating to the repeated births and deaths of the innumerable Buddhist heroes and saints who, after so many residences on earth, in the hells, in the dewalokas, have at last reached emancipation. They recollect their adventures; they recount copious portions of their experience stretching through many lives. Again: the arguments cited from Buddha seem aimed to prove, not that there is absolutely no self in man, but that the five khandas are not the self, that the real self is something distinct from all that is exposed to misery and change, something deep, wondrous, divine, infinite. For instance, the report of a debate on this subject between Buddha and Sachaka closes with these words: "Thus was Sachaka forced to confess that the five khandas are impermanent, connected with sorrow, unreal, not the self.42 These terms appear to imply the reality of a self, only that it is not to be confounded with the apprehensible elements of existence. Besides, the attainment of Nirwana is held up as a prize to be laboriously sought by personal effort. To secure it is a positive triumph quite distinct from the fated dissolution of the khandas in death. Now, if there be in man no personal entity, what is it that with so much joy attains Nirwana? The genuine Buddhist notion, as seems most probable, is that the conscious essence of the rahat, when the exterior elements of existence fall from around him, passes by a transcendent climax and discrete leap beyond the outermost limits of appreciable being, and becomes that INFINITE which knows no changes and is susceptible of no definitions. In the Ka gyur collection of Tibetan sacred books, comprising a hundred volumes, and now belonging to the Cabinet of Manuscripts in the Royal Library of Paris, there are two volumes exclusively occupied by a treatise on Nirwana. It is a significant fact that the title of these volumes is "Nirwana, or Deliverance from Pain." If Nirwana be simply annihilation, why is it not so stated? Why should recourse be had to a phrase partially descriptive of one feature, instead of comprehensively announcing or implying the whole case? Still further: it deserves notice that, according to the unanimous affirmation of Buddhist authors, if any Buddhist were offered the alternative of an existence as king of a dewa loka, keeping his personality for a hundred million years in the uninterrupted enjoyment of perfect happiness, or of translation into Nirwana, he would spurn the former as defilement, and would with unutterable avidity choose the latter. We must therefore suppose that by Nirwana he understands, not naked destruction, but some mysterious good, too vast for logical comprehension, too obscure to Occidental thought to find expression in Occidental language. 42 Hardy, Manual, p. 427. At the moment when Gotama entered upon the Buddhaship, like a vessel overflowing with honey, his mind overflowed with the nectar of oral instruction, and he uttered these stanzas: "Through many different births I have run, vainly seeking The architect of the desire resembling house. Painful are repeated births. O house builder! I have seen thee. Again a house thou canst not build for me. I have broken thy rafters and ridge pole; I have arrived at the extinction of evil desire; My mind is gone to Nirwana." Hardy, who stoutly maintains that the genuine doctrine of Buddha's philosophy is that there is no transmigrating individuality in man, but that the karma creates a new person on the dissolution of the former one, confesses the difficulties of this dogma to be so great that "it is almost universally repudiated." M. Obry published at Paris, in 1856, a small volume entirely devoted to this subject, under the title of "The Indian Nirwana, or the Enfranchisement of the Soul after Death." His conclusion, after a careful and candid discussion, is, that Nirwana had different meanings to the minds of the ancient Aryan priests, the orthodox Brahmans, the Sankhya Brahmans, and the Buddhists, but had not to any of them, excepting possibly a few atheists, the sense of strict annihilation. He thinks that Burnouf and Barthelemy Saint Hilaire themselves would have accepted this view if they had paid particular attention to the definite inquiry, instead of merely touching upon it in the course of their more comprehensive studies. What Spinoza declares in the following sentence "God is one, simple, infinite; his modes of being are diverse, complex, finite" strongly resembles what the Buddhists say of Nirwana and the contrasted vicissitudes of existence, and may perhaps throw light on their meaning. The supposition of immaterial, unlimited, absolutely unalterable being the scholastic ens sine qualitate answers to the descriptions of it much more satisfactorily than the idea of unqualified nothingness does. "Nirwana is real; all else is phenomenal." The Sankhyas, who do not hold to the nonentity nor to the annihilation of the soul, but to its eternal identification with the Infinite One, use nevertheless nearly the same phrases in describing it that the Buddhists do. For example, they say, "The soul is neither a production nor productive, neither matter nor form"43 The Vishnu Purana says, "The mundane egg, containing the whole creation, was surrounded by seven envelops, water, air, fire, ether, egotism, intelligence, and finally the indiscrete principle"44 Is not this Indiscrete Principle of the Brahmans the same as the Nirwana of the Buddhists? The latter explicitly claim that "man is capable of enlarging his faculties to infinity." 43 Sankhya Karika, pp. 16-18. 44 Vishnu Purana, p. 19. Nagasena says to the king of Sagal, "Neither does Nirwana exist previously to its reception, nor is that which was not, brought into existence: still, to the being who attains it, there is Nirwana." According to this statement, taken in connection with the hundreds similar to it, Nirwana seems to be a simple mental perception, most difficult of acquirement, and, when acquired, assimilating the whole conscious being perfectly to itself. The Asangkrata Sutra, as translated by Mr. Hardy, says, "From the joyful exclamations of those who have seen Nirwana, its character may be known by those who have not made the same attainment." The superficial thinker, carelessly scanning the recorded sayings of Gotama and his expositors in relation to Nirwana, is aware only of a confused mass of metaphysical hieroglyphs and poetical metaphors; but the Buddhist sages avow that whoso, by concentrated study and training of his faculties, pursues the inquiry with adequate perseverance, will at last elicit and behold the real meaning of Nirwana, the achieved insight and revelation forming the widest horizon of rapturous truth ever contemplated by the human mind. The memorable remark of Sir William Hamilton, that "capacity of thought is not to be constituted into the measure of existence," should show the error of those who so unjustifiably affirm that, since Nirwana is said to be neither corporeal nor incorporeal, nor at all describable, it is therefore absolutely nothing. A like remark is also to be addressed to those who draw the same unwarrantable conclusion of the nothingness of Nirwana from the fact that it has no locality, or from the fact that it is sometimes said to exclude consciousness. Plato, in the Timaus, stigmatizes as a vulgar error the notion that what is not in any place is a nonentity. Many a weighty philosopher has followed him in this opinion. The denial of place is by no means necessarily the denial of being. So, too, with consciousness. It is conceivable that there is a being superior to all the modes of consciousness now known to us. We are, indeed, unable to define this, yet it may be. The profoundest analysis shows that consciousness consists of co ordinated changes.45 "Consciousness is a succession of changes combined and arranged in special ways." Now, in contrast to the Occidental thinker, who covets alternation because in his cold climate action is the means of enjoyment, the Hindu, in the languid East, where repose is the condition of enjoyment, conceives the highest blessedness to consist in exemption from every disturbance, in an unruffled unity excluding all changes. Therefore, while in some of its forms his dream of Nirwana admits not consciousness, still, it is not inconsistent with a homogeneous state of being, which he, in his metaphysical and theosophie soarings, apprehends as the grandest and most ecstatic of all. The etymological force of the word Nirwana is extinction, as when the sun has set, a fire has burned out, or a lamp is extinguished. The fair laws of interpretation do not compel us, in cases like this, to receive the severest literal significance of a word as conveying the meaning which a popular doctrine holds in the minds of its believers. There is almost always looseness, vagueness, metaphor, accommodation. But take the term before us in its strictest sense, and mark the result. When a fire is extinguished, it is obvious that, while the flame has disappeared, the substance of the flame, whatever it was, has not ceased to be, has not been 45 Herbert Spencer, Principles of Psychology, ch. xxv. actually annihilated. It has only ceased to be in a certain visible form in which it existed before; but it still survives under altered conditions. Now, to compare the putting out of a lamp to the death of a man, extinction is not actual destruction, but a transition of the flame into another state of being. That other state, in the case of the soul, is Nirwana. There is a final consideration, possibly of some worth in dealing with this obscure theme. We will approach it through a preliminary query and quotation. That nothing can extend beyond its limits is an identical proposition. How vast, then, must be the soul of man in form or in power! "If souls be substances corporeal, Be they as big just as the body is? Or shoot they out to the height ethereal? Doth it not seem the impression of a seal Can be no larger than the wax? The soul with that vast latitude must move Which measures the objects that it doth descry. So must it be upstretch'd unto the sky And rub against the stars." Cousin asserts that man is conscious of infinity, that "the unconditional, the absolute, the infinite, is immediately known in consciousness by difference, plurality, and relation." Now, does not the consciousness of infinity imply the infinity of consciousness? If not, we are compelled into the contradiction that a certain entity or force reaches outside of its outermost boundary. The Buddhist ideal is not self annihilation, but self universalization. It is not the absorption of a drop into the sea, but the dilatation of a drop to the sea. Each drop swells to the whole ocean, each soul becomes the Boundless One, each rahat is identified with the total Nirwana. The rivers of emancipated men neither disembogue into the ocean of spirit nor evaporate into the abyss of nonentity, but are blended with infinitude as an ontological integer. Nirwana is unexposed and illimitable space. Buddhism is perfect disinterestedness, absolute self surrender. It is the gospel of everlasting emancipation for all. It cannot be that a deliberate suicide of soul is the ideal holding the deepest desire of four hundred millions of people. Nirwana is not negation, but a pure positive without alternation or foil. Some light may be thrown on the subject by contemplating the successive states through which the dying Gotama passed. Max Muller describes them, after the Buddhist documents, thus: "He enters into the first stage of meditation when he feels freedom from sin, acquires a knowledge of the nature of all things, and has no desire except that of Nirvana. But he still feels pleasure; he even uses his reasoning and discriminating powers. The use of these powers ceases in the second stage of meditation, when nothing remains but a desire after Nirvana, and a general feeling of satisfaction arising from his intellectual perfection. That satisfaction, also, is extinguished in the third stage. Indifference succeeds; yet there is still self consciousness, and a certain amount of physical pleasure. In the fourth stage these last remnants are destroyed; memory fades away, all pleasure and pain are gone, and the doors of Nirvana now open before him. We must soar still higher, and, though we may feel giddy and disgusted,46 we must sit out the tragedy till the curtain falls. After the four stages of meditation are passed, the Buddha (and every being is to become a Buddha) enters first into the infinity of space, then into the infinity of intelligence, and thence he passes into the third region, the realm of nothing. But even here there is no rest. There is still something left, the idea of the nothing in which he rejoices. That also must be destroyed; and it is destroyed in the fourth and last region, where there is not even the idea of a nothing left, and where there is complete rest, undisturbed by nothing, or what is not nothing."47 Analyze away all particulars until you reach an uncolored boundlessness of pure immateriality, free from every predicament; and that is Nirwana. This is one possible way of conceiving the fate of the soul; and the speculative mind must conceive it in every possible way. However closely the result resembles the vulgar notion of annihilation, the difference in method of approach and the difference to the contemplator's feeling are immense. The Buddhist apprehends Nirwana as infinitude in absolute and eternal equilibrium: the atheist finds Nirwana in a coffin. That is thought of with rapture, this, with horror. It should be noticed, before we close this chapter, that some of the Hindus give a spiritual interpretation to all the gross physical details of their so highly colored and extravagant mythology. One of their sacred books says, "Pleasure and pain are states of the mind. Heaven is that which delights the mind, hell is that which gives it pain. Hence vice is called hell, and virtue is called heaven." Another author says, "The fire of the angry mind produces the fire of hell, and consumes its possessor. A wicked person causes his evil deeds to impinge upon himself, and that is hell." The various sects of mystics, allied in faith and feeling to the Sufis, which are quite numerous in the East, agree in a deep metaphorical explanation of the vulgar notions pertaining to Deity, judgment, heaven, and hell. In conclusion, the most remarkable fact in this whole field of inquiry is the contrast of the Eastern horror of individuality and longing for absorption with the Western clinging to personality and abhorrence of dissolution.48 The true Orientalist, whether Brahman, Buddhist, or Sufi, is in love with death. Through this gate he expects to quit his frail and pitiable consciousness, losing himself, with all evil, to be born anew and find himself, with all good, in God. All sense, passion, care, and grief shall cease with deliverance from the spectral semblances of this false life. All pure contemplation, perfect repose, unsullied and unrippled joy shall begin with entrance upon the true life beyond. Thus thinking, he feels that death is the avenue to infinite expansion, freedom, peace, bliss; and he longs for it with an intensity not dreamed of by more frigid natures. He often compares himself, in this world aspiring towards another, to an enamored moth drawn towards the fire, and he exclaims, with a sigh and a thrill, 46 Not disgust, but wonder and awe, fathomless intellectual emotion, at so unparalleled a phenomenon of our miraculous human nature. 47 Buddhism and Buddhist Pilgrims, p. 19. 48 Burnouf, Le Bhagavata Purana, tome i. livre iii. ch. 28: Acquisition de la Delivrance, ch. 31. Marche de l'ame individuelle. "Highest nature wills the capture; 'Light to light!' the instinct cries; And in agonizing rapture falls the moth, and bravely dies. Think not what thou art, Believer; think but what thou mayst become For the World is thy deceiver, and the Light thy only home." 49 The Western mind approaches the subject of death negatively, stripping off the attributes of finite being; the Eastern mind, positively, putting on the attributes of infinite being. Negative acts, denying function, are antipathetic, and lower the sense of life; positive acts, affirming function, are sympathetic, and raise the sense of life. Therefore the end to which those look, annihilation, is dreaded; that to which these look, Nirwana, is desired. To become nothing, is measureless horror; to become all, is boundless ecstasy. 49 Milnes, Palm Leaves. CHAPTER VII. PERSIAN DOCTRINE OF A FUTURE LIFE. THE name of Zoroaster is connected, either as author or as reviser, with that remarkable system of rites and doctrines which constituted the religion of the ancient Iranians, and which yet finds adherents in the Ghebers of Persia and the Parsees of India. Pliny, following the affirmation of Aristotle, asserts that he flourished six thousand years before Plato. Moyle, Gibbon, Volney, Rhode, concur in throwing him back into this vast antiquity. Foucher, Holty, Heeren, Tychsen, Guizot, assign his birth to the beginning of the seventh century before Christ. Hyde, Prideaux, Du Perron, Kleuker, Herder, Klaproth, and others, bring him down to about a hundred and fifty years later. Meanwhile, several weighty names press the scale in favor of the hypothesis of two or three Zoroasters, living at separate epochs. So the learned men differ, and the genuine date in question cannot, at present at least, be decided. It is comparatively certain that, if he was the author of the work attributed to him, he must have flourished as early as the sixth century before Christ. The probabilities seem, upon the whole, that he lived four or five centuries earlier than that, even, "in the pre historic time," as Spiegel says. However, the settlement of the era of Zoroaster is not a necessary condition of discovering the era when the religion commonly traced to him was in full prevalence as the established faith of the Persian empire. The latter may be conclusively fixed without clearing up the former. And it is known, without disputation, that that religion whether it was primarily Persian, Median, Assyrian, or Chaldean was flourishing at Babylon in the maturity of its power in the time of the Hebrew prophets Ezekiel, Jeremiah, and Daniel, twenty five hundred years ago. The celebrated work on the religion of the ancient Medes and Persians by Dr. Hyde, published in 1700, must be followed with much caution and be taken with many qualifications. The author was biassed by unsound theories of the relation of the Hebrew theology to the Persian, and was, of course, ignorant of the most authoritative ancient documents afterwards brought to light. His work, therefore, though learned and valuable, considering the time when it was written, is vitiated by numerous mistakes and defects. In 1762, Anquetil du Perron, returning to France from protracted journeying and abode in the East, brought home, among the fruits of his researches, manuscripts purporting to be parts of the old Persian Bible composed or collected by Zoroaster. It was written in a language hitherto unknown to European scholars, one of the primitive dialects of Persia. This work, of which he soon published a French version at Paris was entitled by him the "Zend Avesta." It confirmed all that was previously known of the Zoroastrian religion, and, by its allusions, statements, and implications, threw great additional light upon the subject. A furious controversy, stimulated by personal rivalries and national jealousy, immediately arose. Du Perron was denounced as an impostor or an ignoramus, and his publication stigmatized as a wretched forgery of his own, or a gross imposition palmed upon him by some lying pundit. Sir William Jones and John Richardson, both distinguished English Orientalists, and Meiners in Germany, were the chief impugners of the document in hand. Richardson obstinately went beyond his data, and did not live long enough to retract; but Sir William, upon an increase of information, changed his views, and regretted his first inconsiderate zeal and somewhat mistaken championship. The ablest defender of Du Perron was Kleuker, who translated the whole work from French into German, adding many corrections, new arguments, and researches of great ability. His work was printed at Riga, in seven quarto volumes, from 1777 to 1783. The progress and results of the whole discussion are well enough indicated in the various papers which the subject drew forth in the volumes of the "Asiatic Researches" and the numbers of the "Asiatic Journal." The conclusion was that, while Du Perron had indeed betrayed partial ignorance and crudity, and had committed some glaring errors, there was not the least ground for doubt that his asserted discovery was in every essential what it claimed to be. It is a sort of litany; a collection of prayers and of sacred dialogues held between Ormuzd and Zoroaster, from which the Persian system of theology may be inferred and constructed with some approach to completeness. The assailants of the genuineness of the "Zend Avesta" were effectually silenced when, some thirty years later, Professor Rask, a well known Danish linguist, during his inquiries in the East, found other copies of it, and gave to the world such information and proofs as could not be suspected. He, discovering the close affinities of the Zend with Sanscrit, led the way to the most brilliant triumph yet achieved by comparative philology. Portions of the work in the original character were published in 1829, under the supervision of Burnouf at Paris and of Olshausen at Hamburg. The question of the genuineness of the dialect exhibited in these specimens, once so freely mooted, has been discussed, and definitively settled in the affirmative, by several eminent scholars, among whom may be mentioned Bopp, whose "Comparative Grammar of the Sanscrit, Zend, Greek, Latin, Lithuanian, Gothic, and German Languages" is an astonishing monument of erudition and toil. It is the conviction of Major Rawlinson that the Zoroastrian books of the Parsees were imported to Bombay from Persia in their present state in the seventh century of our era, but that they were written at least twelve centuries earlier.1 But the two scholars whose opinions upon any subject within this department of learning are now the most authoritative are Professor Spiegel of Erlangen, and Professor Westergaard of Copenhagen. Their investigations, still in progress, made with all the aids furnished by their predecessors, and also with the advantage of newly discovered materials and processes, are of course to be relied on in preference to the earlier, and in some respects necessarily cruder, researches. It appears that the proper Zoroastrian Scriptures namely, the Yasna, the Vispered, the Vendidad, the Yashts, the Nyaish, the Afrigans, the Gahs, the Sirozah, and a few other fragments were composed in an ancient Iranian dialect, which may as Professor W. D. Whitney suggests in his very lucid and able article in vol. v. of the Journal of the American Oriental Society most fitly be called the Avestan dialect. (No other book in this dialect, we believe, is known to be in existence now.) It is difficult to say when these 1 Wilson, Parsi Religion Unfolded, p. 405. documents were written; but in view of all the relevant information now possessed, including that drawn from the deciphered cuneiform inscriptions, the most probable date is about a thousand years before Christ. Professor R. Roth of Tubingen whose authority herein as an original investigator is perhaps hardly second to any other man's says the books of the Zoroastrian faith were written a considerable time before the rise of the Achamenian dynasty. He is convinced that the whole substantial contents of the Zend Avesta are many centuries older than the Christian era.2 Professor Muller of Oxford also holds the same opinion.3 And even those who set the date of the literary record a few centuries later, as Spiegel does, freely admit the great antiquity of the doctrines and usages then first committed to manuscript. In the fourth century before Christ, Alexander of Macedon overran the Persian empire. With the new rule new influences prevailed, and the old national faith and ritual fell into decay and neglect. Early in the third century of the Christian era, Ardeshir overthrew the Parthian dominion in Persia and established the Sassanian dynasty. One of his first acts was, stimulated doubtless by the surviving Magi and the old piety of the people, to reinaugurate the ancient religion. A fresh zeal of loyalty broke out, and all the prestige and vigor of the long suppressed worship were restored. The Zoroastrian Scriptures were now sought for, whether in manuscript or in the memories of the priests. It would seem that only remnants were found. The collection, such as it was, was in the Avestan dialect, which had grown partially obsolete and unintelligible. The authorities accordingly had a translation of it made in the speech of the time, Pehlevi. This translation most of which has reached us written in with the original, sentence after sentence forms the real Zend language, often confounded by the literary public with Avestan. The translation of the Avestan books, probably made under these circumstances as early as A. D. 350, is called the Huzvaresch. In regard to some of these particulars there are questions still under investigation, but upon which it is not worth our while to pause here. For example, Spiegel thinks the Zend identical with the Pehlevi of the fourth century; Westergaard believes it entirely distinct from Pehlevi, and in truth only a disguised mode of writing Parsee, the oldest form of the modern Persian language. The source from which the fullest and clearest knowledge of the Zoroastrian faith, as it is now held by the Parsees, is drawn, is the Desatir and the Bundehesh. The former work is the unique vestige of an extinct dialect called the Mahabadian, accompanied by a Persian translation and commentary. It is impossible to ascertain the century when the Mahabadian text was written; but the translation into Persian was, most probably, made in the seventh century of the Christian era.4 Spiegel, in 1847, says there can be no doubt of the spuriousness of the Desatir; but he gives no reasons for the statement, and we do not know that it is based on any other arguments than those which, advanced by De Sacy, were refuted by Von Hammer. The Bundehesh is in the Pehlevi or Zend language, and was written, it is 2 Ueber die Heiligen Schriften der Arier. Jahrbucher fur Deutsche Theologie, 1857, band ii. ss. 146, 147. 3 Essay on the Veda and the Zend Avesta, p. 24. See also Bunsen's Christianity and Mankind, vol. iii. p. 114. 4 Baron von Hammer, in Heidelberger Jabrbucher der Literatur, 1823. Id. in Journal Asiatique, Juillet, 1833. Dabistan, Preliminary Discourse, pp. xix. lxv. thought, about the seventh century, but was derived, it is claimed, from a more ancient work.5 The book entitled "Revelations of Ardai Viraf" exists in Pehlevi probably of the fourth century, according to Troyer,6 and is believed to have been originally written in the Avestan tongue, though this is extremely doubtful. It gives a detailed narrative of the scenery of heaven and hell, as seen by Ardai Viraf during a visit of a week which his soul leaving his body for that length of time paid to those regions. Many later and enlarged versions of this have appeared. One of them, dating from the sixteenth century, was translated into English by T. A. Pope and published in 1816. Sanscrit translations of several of the before named writings are also in existence. And several other comparatively recent works, scarcely needing mention here, although considered as somewhat authoritative by the modern followers of Zoroaster, are to be found in Guzeratee, the present dialect of the Indian Parsees. A full exposition of the Zoroastrian religion, with satisfactory proofs of its antiquity and documentary genuineness, is presented in the Preliminary Discourse and Notes to the Dabistan. This curious and entertaining work, a fund of strange and valuable lore, is an historico critical view of the principal religions of the world, especially of the Oriental sects, schools, and manners. It was composed in Persian, apparently by Mohsan Fani, about the year 1645. An English translation, with elaborate explanatory matter, by David Shea and Anthony Troyer, was published at London and at Paris in 1843.7 In these records there are obscurities, incongruities, and chasms, as might naturally be anticipated, admitting them to be strictly what they would pass for. These faults may be accounted for in several ways. First, in a rude stage of philosophical culture, incompleteness of theory, inconsistent conceptions in different parts of a system, are not unusual, but are rather to be expected, and are slow to become troublesome to its adherents. Secondly, distinct contemporary thinkers or sects may give expression to their various views in literary productions of the same date and possessing a balanced authority. Or, thirdly, the heterogeneous conceptions in some particulars met with in these scriptures may be a result of the fact that the collection contains writings of distinct ages, when the same problems had been differently approached and had given birth to opposing or divergent speculations. The later works of course cannot have the authority of the earlier in deciding questions of ancient belief: they are to be taken rather as commentaries, interpreting and carrying out in detail many points that lie only in obscure hints and allusions in the primary documents. But it is a significant fact that, in the generic germs of doctrine and custom, in the essential outlines of substance, in rhetorical imagery, in practical morals, the statements of all these books are alike: they only vary in subordinate matters and in degrees of fulness. The charge has repeatedly been urged that the materials of the more recent of the Parsee Scriptures the Desatir and the Bundehesh were drawn from Christian and Mohammedan sources. No evidence of value for sustaining such assertions has been adduced. Under the circumstances, scarcely any motive for such an imposition appears. In view of the whole case, 5 Dabistan, vol. i. p. 226, note. 6 Ibid. p. 185, note. 7 Reviewed in Asiatic Journal, 1844, pp. 582-595. the reverse supposition is rather to be credited. In the first place, we have ample evidence for the existence of the general Zoroastrian system long anterior to the rise of Christianity. The testimony of the classic authors to say nothing of the known antiquity of the language in which the system is preserved is demonstrative on this point. Secondly, the striking agreement in regard to fundamental doctrines, pervading spirit, and ritual forms between the accounts in the classics and those in the Avestan books, and of both these with the later writings and traditional practice of the Parsees, furnishes powerful presumption that the religion was a connected development, possessing the same essential features from the time of its national establishment. Thirdly, we have unquestionable proofs that, during the period from the Babylonish captivity to the advent of Christ, the Jews borrowed and adapted a great deal from the Persian theology, but no proof that the Persians took any thing from the Jewish theology. This is abundantly confessed by such scholars as Gesenius, Rosenmuller, Stuart, Lucke, De Wette, Neander; and it will hardly be challenged by any one who has investigated the subject. But the Jewish theology being thus impregnated with germs from the Persian faith, and being in a sense the historic mother of Christian theology, it is far more reasonable, in seeking the origin of dogmas common to Parsees and Christians, to trace them through the Pharisees to Zoroaster, than to imagine them suddenly foisted upon the former by forgery on the part of the latter at a late period. Fourthly, it is notorious that Mohammed, in forming his religion, made wholesale draughts upon previously existing faiths, that their adherents might more readily accept his teachings, finding them largely in unison with their own. It is altogether more likely, aside from historic evidence which we possess, that he drew from the tenets and imagery of the Ghebers, than that they, when subdued by his armies and persecuted by his rule from their native land, introduced new doctrines from the Koran into the ancestral creed which they so revered that neither exile nor death could make them abjure it. For, driven by those fierce proselytes, the victorious Arabs, to the mountains of Kirman and to the Indian coast, they clung with unconquerable tenacity to their religion, still scrupulously practising its rites, proudly mindful of the time when every village, from the shore of the Caspian Sea to the outlet of the Persian Gulf, had its splendid fire temple, "And Iran like a sunflower turn'd Where'er the eye of Mithra burn'd." We therefore see no reason for believing that important Christian or Mohammedan ideas have been interpolated into the old Zoroastrian religion. The influence has been in the other direction. Relying then, though with caution, on what Dr. Edward Roth says, that "the certainty of our possessing a correct knowledge of the leading ancient doctrines of the Persians is now beyond all question," we will try to exhibit so much of the system as is necessary for appreciating its doctrine of a future life. In the deep background of the Magian theology looms, in mysterious obscurity, the belief in an infinite First Principle, Zeruana Akerana. According to most of the scholars who have investigated it, the meaning of this term is "Time without Bounds," or absolute duration. But Bohlen says it signifies the "Untreated Whole;" and Schlegel thinksit denotes the "Indivisible One." The conception seems to have been to the people mostly an unapplied abstraction, too vast and remote to become prominent in their speculation or influential in their faith. Spiegel, indeed, thinks the conception was derived from Babylon, and added to the system at a later period than the other doctrines. The beginning of vital theology, the source of actual ethics to the Zoroastrians, was in the idea of the two antagonist powers, Ormuzd and Ahriman, the first emanations of Zeruana, who divide between them in unresting strife the empire of the universe. The former is the Principle of Good, the perfection of intelligence, beneficence, and light, the source of all reflected excellence. The latter is the Principle of Evil, the contriver of misery and death, the king of darkness, the instigator of all wrong. With sublime beauty the ancient Persian said, "Light is the body of Ormuzd; Darkness is the body of Ahriman." There has been much dispute whether the Persian theology grew out of the idea of an essential and eternal dualism, or was based on the conception of a partial and temporary battle; in other words, whether Ahriman was originally and necessarily evil, or fell from a divine estate. In the fragmentary documents which have reached us, the whole subject lies in confusion. It is scarcely possible to unravel the tangled mesh. Sometimes it seems to be taught that Ahriman was at first good, an angel of light who, through envy of his great compeer, sank from his primal purity, darkened into hatred, and became the rancorous enemy of truth and love. At other times he appears to be considered as the pure primordial essence of evil. The various views may have prevailed in different ages or in different schools. Upon the whole, however, we hold the opinion that the real Zoroastrian idea of Ahriman was moral and free, not physical and fatal. The whole basis of the universe was good; evil was an after perversion, a foreign interpolation, a battling mixture. First, the perfect Zeruana was once all in all: Ahriman, as well as Ormuzd, proceeded from him; and the inference that he was pure would seem to belong to the idea of his origin. Secondly, so far as the account of Satan given in the book of Job perhaps the earliest appearance of the Persian notion in Jewish literature warrants any inference or supposition at all, it would lead to the image of one who was originally a prince in heaven, and who must have fallen thence to become the builder and potentate of hell. Thirdly, that matter is not an essential core of evil, the utter antagonist of spirit, and that Ahriman is not evil by an intrinsic necessity, will appear from the two conceptions lying at the base and crown of the Persian system: that the creation, as it first came from the hands of Ormuzd, was perfectly good; and that finally the purified material world shall exist again unstained by a breath of evil, Ahriman himself becoming like Ormuzd. He is not, then, aboriginal and indestructible evil in substance. The conflict between Ormuzd and him is the temporary ethical struggle of light and darkness, not the internecine ontological war of spirit and matter. Roth says, "Ahriman was originally good: his fall was a determination of his will, not an inherent necessity of his nature." 8 Whatever other conceptions may be found, whatever inconsistencies or contradictions to this may appear, still, we believe the genuine Zoroastrian view was such as we have now stated. The opposite doctrine arose from the more abstruse lucubrations of a more modern time, and is Manichaan, not Zoroastrian. 8 Zoroastrische Glaubenslehre, ss. 397, 398. Ormuzd created a resplendent and happy world. Ahriman instantly made deformity, impurity, and gloom, in opposition to it. All beauty, virtue, harmony, truth, blessedness, were the work of the former. All ugliness, vice, discord, falsehood, wretchedness, belonged to the latter. They grappled and mixed in a million hostile shapes. This universal battle is the ground of ethics, the clarion call to marshal out the hostile hosts of good and ill; and all other war is but a result and a symbol of it. The strife thus indicated between a Deity and a Devil, both subordinate to the unmoved ETERNAL, was the Persian solution of the problem of evil, their answer to the staggering question, why pleasure and pain, benevolence and malignity, are so conflictingly mingled in the works of nature and in the soul of man. In the long struggle that ensued, Ormuzd created multitudes of co operant angels to assail his foe, stocking the clean empire of Light with celestial allies of his holy banner, who hang from heaven in great numbers, ready at the prayer of the righteous man to hie to his aid and work him a thousandfold good. Ahriman, likewise, created an equal number of assistant demons, peopling the filthy domain of Darkness with counterbalancing swarms of infernal followers of his pirate flag, who lurk at the summit of hell, watching to snatch every opportunity to ply their vocation of sin and ruin. There are such hosts of these invisible antagonists sown abroad, and incessantly active, that every star is crowded and all space teems with them. Each man has a good and a bad angel, a ferver and a dev, who are endeavoring in every manner to acquire control over his conduct and possession of his soul. The Persians curiously personified the source of organic life in the world under the emblem of a primeval bull. In this symbolic beast were packed the seeds and germs of all the creatures afterwards to people the earth. Ahriman, to ruin the creation of which this animal was the life medium, sought to kill him. He set upon him two of his devs, who are called "adepts of death." They stung him in the breast, and plagued him until he died of rage. But, as he was dying, from his right shoulder sprang the androgynal Kaiomorts, who was the stock root of humanity. His body was made from fire, air, water, and earth, to which Ormuzd added an immortal soul, and bathed him with an elixir which rendered him fair and glittering as a youth of fifteen, and would have preserved him so perennially had it not been for the assaults of the Evil One.9 Ahriman, the enemy of all life, determined to slay him, and at last accomplished his object; but, as Kaiomorts fell, from his seed, through the power of Ormuzd, originated Meschia and Meschiane, male and female, the first human pair, from whom all our race have descended. They would never have died,10 but Ahriman, in the guise of a serpent, seduced them, and they sinned and fell. This account is partly drawn from that later treatise, the Bundehesh, whose mythological cosmogony reminds us of the Scandinavian Ymer. But we conceive it to be strictly reliable as a representation of the Zoroastrian faith in its essential doctrines; for the earlier documents, the Yasna, the Yeshts, and the Vendidad, contain the same things in obscure and undeveloped expressions. They, too, make repeated mention of the mysterious bull, and of Kaiomorts.11 They invariably represent death as resulting 9 Kleuker, Zend Avesta, band i. anhang 1, s. 263. 10 Ibid. band i. s. 27. 11 Yasna, 24th IIa. from the hostility of Ahriman. The earliest Avestan account of the earthly condition of men describes them as living in a garden which Yima or Jemschid had enclosed at the command of Ormuzd.12 During the golden age of his reign they were free from heat and cold, sickness and death. "In the garden which Yima made they led a most beautiful life, and they bore none of the marks which Ahriman has since made upon men." But Ahriman's envy and hatred knew no rest until he and his devs had, by their wiles, broken into this paradise, betrayed Yima and his people into falsehood, and so, by introducing corruption into their hearts, put an end to their glorious earthly immortality. This view is set forth in the opening fargards of the Vendidad; and it has been clearly illustrated in an elaborate contribution upon the "Old Iranian Mythology" by Professor Westergaard.13 Death, like all other evils, was an after effect, thrust into the purely good creation of Ormuzd by the cunning malice of Ahriman. The Vendidad, at its commencement, recounts the various products of Ormuzd's beneficent power, and adds, after each particular, "Thereupon Ahriman, who is full of death, made an opposition to the same." According to the Zoroastrian modes of thought, what would have been the fate of man had Ahriman not existed or not interfered? Plainly, mankind would have lived on forever in innocence and joy. They would have been blessed with all placid delights, exempt from hate, sickness, pain, and every other ill; and, when the earth was full of them, Ormuzd would have taken his sinless subjects to his own realm of light on high. But when they forsook the true service of Ormuzd, falling into deceit and defilement, they became subjects of Ahriman; and he would inflict on them, as the creatures of his hated rival, all the calamities in his power, dissolve the masterly workmanship of their bodies in death, and then take their souls as prisoners into his own dark abode. "Had Meschia continued to bring meet praises, it would have happened that when the time of man, created pure, had come, his soul, created pure and immortal, would immediately have gone to the seat of bliss."14 "Heaven was destined for man upon condition that he was humble of heart, obedient to the law, and pure in thought, word, and deed." But "by believing the lies of Ahriman they became sinners, and their souls must remain in his nether kingdom until the resurrection of their bodies."15 Ahriman's triumph thus culminates in the death of man and that banishment of the disembodied soul into hell which takes the place of its originally intended reception into heaven. The law of Ormuzd, revealed through Zoroaster, furnishes to all who faithfully observe it in purity of thought, speech, and action, "when body and soul have separated, attainment of paradise in the next world,"16 while the neglecters of it "will pass into the dwelling of the devs,"17 "after death will have no part in paradise, but will occupy the place of darkness 12 Die Sage von Dschemschid. Von Professor R. Roth. In Zeitschrift der Deutschen Morgeulandischen Gesellschaft, band iv. ss. 417-431. 13 Weber, Indische Studien, band iii. 8. 411. 14 Yesht LXXXVII. Kleuker, band ii. sect. 211. 15 Bundehesh, ch. xv. 16 Avesta die Heiligen Schriften der Parsen. Von Dr. F. Spiegel, band i. s, 171. 17 Ibid. s. 158. destined for the wicked."18 The third day after death, the soul advances upon "the way created by Ormuzd for good and bad," to be examined as to its conduct. The pure soul passes up from this evanescent world, over the bridge Chinevad, to the world of Ormuzd, and joins the angels. The sinful soul is bound and led over the way made for the godless, and finds its place at the bottom of gloomy hell.19 An Avestan fragment 20 and the Viraf Nameh give the same account, only with more picturesque fulness. On the soaring bridge the soul meets Rashne rast, the angel of justice, who tries those that present themselves before him. If the merits prevail, a figure of dazzling substance, radiating glory and fragrance, advances and accosts the justified soul, saying, "I am thy good angel: I was pure at the first, but thy good deeds have made me purer;" and the happy one is straightway led to Paradise. But when the vices outweigh the virtues, a dark and frightful image, featured with ugliness and exhaling a noisome smell, meets the condemned soul, and cries, "I am thy evil spirit: bad myself, thy crimes have made me worse." Then the culprit staggers on his uncertain foothold, is hurled from the dizzy causeway, and precipitated into the gulf which yawns horribly below. A sufficient reason for believing these last details no late and foreign interpolation, is that the Vendidad itself contains all that is essential in them, Garotman, the heaven of Ormuzd, open to the pure, Dutsakh, the abode of devs, ready for the wicked, Chinevad, the bridge of ordeal, upon which all must enter.21 Some authors have claimed that the ancient disciples of Zoroaster believed in a purifying, intermediate state for the dead. Passages stating such a doctrine are found in the Yeshts, Sades, and in later Parsee works. But whether the translations we now possess of these passages are accurate, and whether the passages themselves are authoritative to establish the ancient prevalence of such a belief, we have not yet the means for deciding. There was a yearly solemnity, called the "Festival for the Dead," still observed by the Parsees, held at the season when it was thought that that portion of the sinful departed who had ended their penance were raised from Dutsakh to earth, from earth to Garotman. Du Perron says that this took place only during the last five days of the year, when the souls of all the deceased sinners who were undergoing punishment had permission to leave their confinement and visit their relatives; after which, those not yet purified were to return, but those for whom a sufficient atonement had been made were to proceed to Paradise. For proof that this doctrine was held, reference is made to the following passage, with others: "During these five days Ormuzd empties hell. The imprisoned souls shall be freed from Ahriman's plagues when they pay penance and are ashamed of their sins; and they shall receive a heavenly nature; the meritorious deeds of themselves and of their families cause this liberation: all the rest must return to Dutsakh."22 Rhode thinks this was a part of the old Persian faith, and the source of 18 Ibid. s. 127. 19 Ibid. ss. 248-252. Vendidad, Fargard XIX. 20 Kleuker, band i. ss. xxxi. xxxv. 21 Spiegel, Vendidad, ss. 207, 229, 233, 250. 22 Kleuker, band ii. s. 173. the Roman Catholic doctrine of purgatory.23 But, whether so or not, it is certain that the Zoroastrians regarded the whole residence of the departed souls in hell as temporary. The duration of the present order of the world was fixed at twelve thousand years, divided into four equal epochs. In the first three thousand years, Ormuzd creates and reigns triumphantly over his empire. Through the next cycle, Ahriman is constructing and carrying on his hostile works. The third epoch is occupied with a drawn battle between the upper and lower kings and their adherents. During the fourth period, Ahriman is to be victorious, and a state of things inconceivably dreadful is to prevail. The brightness of all clear things will be shrouded, the happiness of all joyful creatures be destroyed, innocence disappear, religion be scoffed from the world, and crime, horror, and war be rampant. Famine will spread, pests and plagues stalk over the earth, and showers of black rain fall. But at last Ormuzd will rise in his might and put an end to these awful scenes. He will send on earth a savior. Sosiosch, to deliver mankind, to wind up the final period of time, and to bring the arch enemy to judgment. At the sound of the voice of Sosiosch the dead will come forth. Good, bad, indifferent, all alike will rise, each in his order. Kaiomorts, the original single ancestor of men, will be the firstling. Next, Meschia and Meschiane, the primal parent pair, will appear. And then the whole multitudinous family of mankind will throng up. The genii of the elements will render up the sacred materials intrusted to them, and rebuild the decomposed bodies. Each soul will recognise, and hasten to reoccupy, its old tenement of flesh, now renewed, improved, immortalized. Former acquaintances will then know each other. "Behold, my father! my mother! my brother! my wife! they shall exclaim." 24 In this exposition we have following the guidance of Du Perron, Foucher, Kleuker, J. G. Muller, and other early scholars in this field attributed the doctrine of a general and bodily resurrection of the dead to the ancient Zoroastrians. The subsequent researches of Burnouf, Roth, and others, have shown that several, at least, of the passages which Anquetil supposed to teach such a doctrine were erroneously translated by him, and do not really contain it. And recently the ground has been often assumed that the doctrine of the resurrection does not belong to the Avesta, but is a more modern dogma, derived by the Parsees from the Jews or the Christians, and only forced upon the old text by misinterpretation through the Pehlevi version and the Parsee commentary. A question of so grave importance demands careful examination. In the absence of that reliable translation of the entire original documents, and that thorough elaboration of all the extant materials, which we are awaiting from the hands of Professor Spiegel, whose second volume has long been due, and Professor Westergaard, whose second and third volumes are eagerly looked for, we must make the best use of the resources actually available, and then leave the point in such plausible light as existing testimony and fair reasoning can throw upon it. In the first place, it should be observed that, admitting the doctrine to be nowhere mentioned in the Avesta, still, it does not follow that the belief was not prevalent when the 23 Rhode, Heilige Sage des Zendvolks, s. 410. 24 Bundehesh, ch. xxxi. Avesta was written. We know that the Christians of the first two centuries believed a great many things of which there is no statement in the New Testament. Spiegel holds that the doctrine in debate is not in the Avesta, the text of which in its present form he thinks was written after the time of Alexander.25 But he confesses that the resurrection theory was in existence long before that time.26 Now, if the Avesta, committed to writing three hundred years before Christ, at a time when the doctrine of the resurrection is known to have been believed, contains no reference to it, the same relation of facts may just as well have existed if we date the record seven centuries earlier. We possess only a small and broken portion of the original Zoroastrian Scriptures; as Roth says, "songs, invocations, prayers, snatches of traditions, parts of a code, the shattered fragments of a once stately building." If we could recover the complete documents in their earliest condition, it might appear that the now lost parts contained the doctrine of the general resurrection fully formed. We have many explicit references to many ancient Zoroastrian books no longer in existence. For example, the Parsees have a very early account that the Avesta at first consisted of twenty one Nosks. Of these but one has been preserved complete, and small parts of three or four others. The rest are utterly wanting. The fifth Nosk, whereof not any portion remains to us, was called the Do az ah Hamast. It contained thirty two chapters, treating, among other things, "of the upper and nether world, of the resurrection, of the bridge Chinevad, and of the fate after death." 27 If this evidence be true, and we know of no reason for not crediting it, it is perfectly decisive. But, at all events, the absence from the extant parts of the Zend Avesta of the doctrine under examination would be no proof that that doctrine was not received when those documents were penned. Secondly, we have the unequivocal assertion of Theopompus, in the fourth century before Christ, that the Magi taught the doctrine of a general resurrection.28 "At the appointed epoch Ahriman shall be subdued," and "men shall live again and shall be immortal." And Diogenes adds, "Eudemus of Rhodes affirms the same things." Aristotle calls Ormuzd Zeus, and Ahriman Haides, the Greek names respectively of the lord of the starry Olympians above, and the monarch of the Stygian ghosts beneath. Another form also in which the early Greek authors betray their acquaintance with the Persian conception of a conflict between Ormuzd and Ahriman is in the idea expressed by Xenophon in his Cyropadia, in the dialogue between Araspes and Cyrus of two souls in man, one a brilliant efflux of good, the other a dusky emanation of evil, each bearing the likeness of its parent.29 Since we know from Theopompus that certain conceptions, illustrated in the Bundehesh and not contained in the fragmentary Avestan books which have reached us, were actually received Zoroastrian 25 Studien uber das Zend Avesta, in Zeitschrift der Deutschen Morgenlandischen Gesellschaft, 1855, band ix. s. 192. 26 Spiegel, Avesta, band i. s. 16. 27 Dabistan, vol. i. pp. 272-274. 28 Diogenes Laertius, Lives of the Philosophers, Introduction, sect. vi. Plutarch, concerning Isis and Osiris. 29 Lib. vi. cap. i. sect. 41. tenets four centuries before Christ, we are strongly supported in giving credence to the doctrinal statements of that book as affording, in spite of its lateness, a correct epitome of the old Persian theology. Thirdly, we are still further warranted in admitting the antiquity of the Zoroastrian system as including the resurrection theory, when we consider the internal harmony and organic connection of parts in it; how the doctrines all fit together, and imply each other, and could scarcely have existed apart. Men were the creatures of Ormuzd. They should have lived immortally under his favor and in his realm. But Ahriman, by treachery, obtained possession of a large portion of them. Now, when, at the end of the fourth period into which the world course was divided by the Magian theory, as Theopompus testifies, Ormuzd overcomes this arch adversary, will he not rescue his own unfortunate creatures from the realm of darkness in which they have been imprisoned? When a king storms an enemy's castle, he delivers from the dungeons his own soldiers who were taken captives in a former defeat. The expectation of a great prophet, Sosiosch, to come and vanquish Ahriman and his swarms, unquestionably appears in the Avesta itself.30 With this notion, in inseparable union, the Parsee tradition, running continuously back, as is claimed, to a very remote time, joins the doctrine of a general resurrection; a doctrine literally stated in the Vendidad,31 and in many other places in the Avesta,32 where it has not yet been shown to be an interpolation, but only supposed so by very questionable constructive inferences. The consent of intrinsic adjustment and of historic evidence would, therefore, lead to the conclusion that this was an old Zoroastrian dogma. In disproof of this conclusion we believe there is no direct positive evidence whatever, and no inferential argument cogent enough to produce conviction. There are sufficient reasons for the belief that the doctrine of a resurrection was quite early adopted from the Persians by the Jews, not borrowed at a much later time from the Jews by the Parsees. The conception of Ahriman, the evil serpent, bearing death, (die Schlange Angramainyus der voll Tod ist,) is interwrought from the first throughout the Zoroastrian scheme. In the Hebrew records, on the contrary, such an idea appears but incidentally, briefly, rarely, and only in the later books. The account of the introduction of sin and death by the serpent in the garden of Eden dates from a time subsequent to the commencement of the Captivity. Von Bohlen, in his Introduction to the Book of Genesis, says the narrative was drawn from the Zend Avesta. Rosenmuller, in his commentary on the passage, says the narrator had in view the Zoroastrian notions of the serpent Ahriman and his deeds. Dr. Martin Haug an acute and learned writer, whose opinion is entitled to great weight, as he is the freshest scholar acquainted with this whole field in the light of all that others have done thinks it certain that Zoroaster lived in a remote antiquity, from fifteen hundred to two thousand years before Christ. He says that Judaism after the exile and, through Judaism, Christianity afterwards received an important influence from Zoroastrianism, 30 Spiegel, Avesta, band i. ss. 16, 244. 31 Fargard XVIII, Spiegel's Uebersetzung, s. 236. 32 Kleuker, band ii. ss. 123, 124, 164. an influence which, in regard to the doctrine of angels, Satan, and the resurrection of the dead, cannot be mistaken.33 The Hebrew theology had no demonology, no Satan, until after the residence at Babylon. This is admitted. Well, is not the resurrection a pendant to the doctrine of Satan? Without the idea of a Satan there would be no idea of a retributive banishment of souls into hell, and of course no occasion for a vindicating restoration of them thence to their former or a superior state. On this point the theory of Rawlinson is very important. He argues, with various proofs, that the Dualistic doctrine was a heresy which broke out very early among the primitive Aryans, who then were the single ancestry of the subsequent Iranians and Indians. This heresy was forcibly suppressed. Its adherents, driven out of India, went to Persia, and, after severe conflicts and final admixture with the Magians, there established their faith.34 The sole passage in the Old Testament teaching the resurrection is in the so called Book of Daniel, a book full of Chaldean and Persian allusions, written less than two centuries before Christ, long after we know it was a received Zoroastrian tenet, and long after the Hebrews had been exposed to the whole tide and atmosphere of the triumphant Persian power. The unchangeable tenacity of the Medes and Persians is a proverb. How often the Hebrew people lapsed into idolatry, accepting Pagan gods, doctrines, and ritual, is notorious. And, in particular, how completely subject they were to Persian influence appears clearly in large parts of the Biblical history, especially in the Books of Esther and Ezekiel. The origin of the term Beelzebub, too, in the New Testament, is plain. To say that the Persians derived the doctrine of the resurrection from the Jews seems to us as arbitrary as it would be to affirm that they also borrowed from them the custom, mentioned by Ezekiel, of weeping for Tammuz in the gates of the temple. In view of the whole case as it stands, until further researches either strengthen it or put a different aspect upon it, we feel forced to think that the doctrine of a general resurrection was a component element in the ancient Avestan religion. A further question of considerable interest arises as to the nature of this resurrection, whether it was conceived as physical or as spiritual. We have no data to furnish a determinate answer. Plutarch quotes from Theopompus the opinion of the Magi, that when, at the subdual of Ahriman, men are restored to life, "they will need no nourishment and cast no shadow." It would appear, then, that they must be spirits. The inference is not reliable; for the idea may be that all causes of decay will be removed, so that no food will be necessary to supply the wasting processes which no longer exist; and that the entire creation will be so full of light that a shadow will be impossible. It might be thought that the familiar Persian conception of angels, both good and evil, fervers and devs, and the reception of departed souls into their company, with Ormuzd in Garotman, or with Ahriman in Dutsakh, would exclude the belief in a future bodily resurrection. But Christians and Mohammedans at this day believe in immaterial angels and devils, and in the immediate entrance of disembodied souls upon reward or 33 Die Lehre Zoroasters nach den alten Liedern des Zendavesta. Zeitschrift der Morgenlandischen Gesellschaft, band ix. ss. 286, 683-692. 34 Rawlinson's Herodotus, vol. i. pp. 426-431. punishment in their society, and still believe in their final return to the earth, and in a restoration to them of their former tabernacles of flesh. Discordant, incoherent, as the two beliefs may be, if their coexistence is a fact with cultivated and reasonable people now, much more was it possible with an undisciplined and credulous populace three thousand years in the past. Again, it has been argued that the indignity with which the ancient Persians treated the dead body, refusing to bury it or to burn it, lest the earth or the fire should be polluted, is incompatible with the supposition that they expected a resurrection of the flesh. In the first place, it is difficult to reason safely to any dogmatic conclusions from the funeral customs of a people. These usages are so much a matter of capricious priestly ritual, ancestral tradition, unreasoning instinct, blind or morbid superstition, that any consistent doctrinal construction is not fairly to be put upon them. Secondly, the Zoroastrians did not express scorn or loathing for the corpse by their manner of disposing of it. The greatest pains were taken to keep it from disgusting decay, by placing it in "the driest, purest, openest place," upon a summit where fresh winds blew, and where certain beasts and birds, accounted most sacred, might eat the corruptible portion: then the clean bones were carefully buried. The dead body had yielded to the hostile working of Ahriman, and become his possession. The priests bore it out on a bed or a carpet, and exposed it to the light of the sun. The demon was thus exorcised; and the body became further purified in being eaten by the sacred animals, and no putrescence was left to contaminate earth, water, or fire.35 Furthermore, it is to be noticed that the modern Parsees dispose of their dead in exactly the same manner depicted in the earliest accounts; yet they zealously hold to a literal resurrection of the body. If the giving of the flesh to the dog and the vulture in their case exists with this belief, it may have done so with their ancestors before Nebuchadnezzar swept the Jews to Babylon. Finally, it is quite reasonable to conclude that the old Persian doctrine of a resurrection did include the physical body, when we recollect that in the Zoroastrian scheme of thought there is no hostility to matter or to earthly life, but all is regarded as pure and good except so far as the serpent Ahriman has introduced evil. The expulsion of this evil with his ultimate overthrow, the restoration of all as it was at first, in purity, gladness, and eternal life, would be the obvious and consistent carrying out of the system. Hatred of earthly life, contempt for the flesh, the notion of an essential and irreconcilable warfare of soul against body, are Brahmanic and Manichaan, not Zoroastrian. Still, the ground plan and style of thought may not have been consistently adhered to. The expectation that the very same body would be restored was known to the Jews a century or two before Christ. One of the martyrs whose history is told in the Second Book of Maccabees, in the agonies of death plucked out his own bowels, and called on the Lord to restore them to him again at the resurrection. Considering the notion of a resurrection of the body as a sensuous burden on the idea of a resurrection of the soul, it may have been a later development originating with the Jews. But it seems to us decidedly more probable that the Magi held it as a part of their creed before they came in contact with the children of Israel. Such an opinion may be modestly held until further information is 35 Spiegel, Avesta, ss. 82, 104, 109, 111, 122. afforded 36 or some new and fatal objection brought. After this resurrection a thorough separation will be made of the good from the bad. "Father shall be divided from child, sister from brother, friend from friend. The innocent one shall weep over the guilty one, the guilty one shall weep for himself. Of two sisters one shall be pure, one corrupt: they shall be treated according to their deeds." 37 Those who have not, in the intermediate state, fully expiated their sins, will, in sight of the whole creation, be remanded to the pit of punishment. But the author of evil shall not exult over them forever. Their prison house will soon be thrown open. The pangs of three terrible days and nights, equal to the agonies of nine thousand years, will purify all, even the worst of the demons. The anguished cry of the damned, as they writhe in the lurid caldron of torture, rising to heaven, will find pity in the soul of Ormuzd, and he will release them from their sufferings. A blazing star, the comet Gurtzscher, will fall upon the earth. In the heat of its conflagration, great and small mountains will melt and flow together as liquid metal. Through this glowing flood all human kind must pass. To the righteous it will prove as a pleasant bath, of the temperature of milk; but on the wicked the flame will inflict terrific pain. Ahriman will run up and down Chinevad in the perplexities of anguish and despair. The earth wide stream of fire, flowing on, will cleanse every spot and every thing. Even the loathsome realm of darkness and torment shall be burnished and made a part of the all inclusive Paradise. Ahriman himself, reclaimed to virtue, replenished with primal light, abjuring the memories of his envious ways, and furling thenceforth the sable standard of his rebellion, shall become a ministering spirit of the Most High, and, together with Ormuzd, chant the praises of Time without Bounds. All darkness, falsehood, suffering, shall flee utterly away, and the whole universe be filled by the illumination of good spirits blessed with fruitions of eternal delight. In regard to the fate of man, Such are the parables Zartushi address'd To Iran's faith, in the ancient Zend Avest. 36 Windischmann has now (1863) fully proved this, in his Zoroastrische Studien. Spiegel frankly avows it: Avesta, band iii., einleitung, s. lxxv. 37 Rhode, Heilige Sage des Zendvolks, s. 467. CHAPTER VIII. HEBREW DOCTRINE OF A FUTURE LIFE. ON the one extreme, a large majority of Christian scholars have asserted that the doctrine of a retributive immortality is clearly taught throughout the Old Testament. Able writers, like Bishop Warburton, have maintained, on the other extreme, that it says nothing whatever about a future life, but rather implies the total and eternal end of men in death. But the most judicious, trustworthy critics hold an intermediate position, and affirm that the Hebrew Scriptures show a general belief in the separate existence of the spirit, not indeed as experiencing rewards and punishments, but as surviving in the common silence and gloom of the under world, a desolate empire of darkness yawning beneath all graves and peopled with dream like ghosts.1 A number of important passages have been cited from different parts of the Old Testament by the advocates of the view first mentioned above. It will be well for us to notice these and their misuse before proceeding farther. The translation of Enoch has been regarded as a revelation of the immortality of man. It is singular that Dr. Priestley should suggest, as the probable fact, so sheer and baseless a hypothesis as he does in his notes upon the Book of Genesis. He says, "Enoch was probably a prophet authorized to announce the reality of another life after this; and he might be removed into it without dying, as an evidence of the truth of his doctrine." The gross materialism of this supposition, and the failure of God's design which it implies, are a sufficient refutation of it. And, besides the utter unlikelihood of the thought, it is entirely destitute of support in the premises. One of the most curious of the many strange things to be found in Warburton's argument for the Divine Legation of Moses an argument marked, as is well known, by profound erudition, and, in many respects, by consummate ability is the use he makes of this account to prove that Moses believed the doctrine of immortality, but purposely obscured the fact from which it might be drawn by the people, in order that it might not interfere with his doctrine of the temporal special providence of Jehovah over the Jewish nation. Such a course is inconsistent with sound morality, much more with the character of an inspired prophet of God. The only history we have of Enoch is in the fifth chapter of the Book of Genesis. The substance of it is as follows: "And Enoch walked with God during his appointed years; and then he was not, for God took him." The author of the Epistle to the Hebrews, following the example of those Rabbins who, several centuries before his time, began to give mystical interpretations of the Scriptures, infers from this statement that Enoch was borne into heaven without tasting death. But it is not certainly known who the author of that epistle was; and, whoever he was, his opinion, of course, can have no authority upon a subject of criticism like 1 Boettcher, De Inferis Rebusque post mortem futuris ex Hebraorum et Gracoram Opinionibus. this. Replying to the supposititious argument furnished by this passage, we say, Take the account as it reads, and it neither asserts nor implies the idea commonly held concerning it. It says nothing about translation or immortality; nor can any thing of the kind be legitimately deduced from it. Its plain meaning is no more nor less than this: Enoch lived three hundred and sixty five years, fearing God and keeping his commandments, and then he died. Many of the Rabbins, fond as they are of finding in the Pentateuch the doctrine of future blessedness for the good, interpret this narrative as only signifying an immature death; for Enoch, it will be recollected, reached but about half the average age of the others whose names are mentioned in the chapter. Had this occurrence been intended as the revelation of a truth, it would have been fully and clearly stated; otherwise it could not answer any purpose. As Le Clerc observes, "If the writer believed so important a fact as that Enoch was immortal, it is wonderful that he relates it as secretly and obscurely as if he wished to hide it." But, finally, even admitting that the account is to be regarded as teaching literally that God took Enoch, it by no means proves a revelation of the doctrine of general immortality. It does not show that anybody else would ever be translated or would in any way enter upon a future state of existence. It is not put forth as a revelation; it says nothing whatever concerning a revelation. It seems to mean either that Enoch suddenly died, or that he disappeared, nobody knew whither. But, if it really means that God took him into heaven, it is more natural to think that that was done as a special favor than as a sign of what awaited others. No general cause is stated, no consequence deduced, no principle laid down, no reflection added. How, then, can it be said that the doctrine of a future life for man is revealed by it or implicated in it? The removal of Elijah in a chariot of fire, of which we read in the second chapter of the Second Book of Kings, is usually supposed to have served as a miraculous proof of the fact that the faithful servants of Jehovah were to be rewarded with a life in the heavens. The author of this book is not known, and can hardly be guessed at with any degree of plausibility. It was unquestionably written, or rather compiled, a long time probably several hundred years after the prophets whose wonderful adventures it recounts had passed away. The internal evidence is sufficient, both in quality and quantity, to demonstrate that the book is for the most part a collection of traditions. This characteristic applies with particular force to the ascension of Elijah. But grant the literal truth of the account: it will not prove the point in support of which it is advanced, because it does not purport to have been done as a revelation of the doctrine in question, nor did it in any way answer the purpose of such a revelation. So far from this, in fact, it does not seem even to have suggested the bare idea of another state of existence in a single instance. For when Elisha returned without Elijah, and told the sons of the prophets at Jericho that his master had gone up in a chariot of fire, which event they knew beforehand was going to happen, they, instead of asking the particulars or exulting over the revelation of a life in heaven, calmly said to him, "Behold, there be with thy servants fifty sons of strength: let them go, we pray thee, and seek for Elijah, lest peradventure a whirlwind, the blast of the Lord, hath caught him up and cast him upon one of the mountains or into one of the valleys. And he said, Ye shall not send. But when they urged him till he was ashamed, he said, Send." This is all that is told us. Had it occurred as is stated, it would not so easily have passed from notice, but mighty inferences, never to be forgotten, would have been drawn from it at once. The story as it stands reminds one of the closing scene in the career of Romulus, speaking of whom the historians say, "In the thirty seventh year of his reign, while he was reviewing an army, a tempest arose, in the midst of which he was suddenly snatched from the eyes of men. Hence some thought he was killed by the senators, others, that he was borne aloft to the gods."2 If the ascension of Elijah to heaven in a chariot of fire did really take place, and if the books held by the Jews as inspired and sacred contained a history of it at the time of our Savior, it is certainly singular that neither he nor any of the apostles allude to it in connection with the subject of a future life. The miracles performed by Elijah and by Elisha in restoring the dead children to life related in the seventeenth chapter of the First Book of Kings and in the fourth chapter of the Second Book are often cited in proof of the position that the doctrine of immortality is revealed in the Old Testament. The narration of these events is found in a record of unknown authorship. The mode in which the miracles were effected, if they were miracles, the prophet measuring himself upon the child, his eyes upon his eyes, his mouth upon his mouth, his hands upon his hands, and in one case the child sneezing seven times, looks dubious. The two accounts so closely resemble each other as to cast still greater suspicion upon both. In addition to these considerations, and even fully granting the reality of the miracles, they do not touch the real controversy, namely, whether the Hebrew Scriptures contain the revealed doctrine of a conscious immortality or of a future retribution. The prophet said, "O Lord my God, let this child's soul, I pray thee, come into his inward parts again." "And the Lord heard the voice of Elijah, and the soul of the child came into him again, and he revived." Now, the most this can show is that the child's soul was then existing in a separate state. It does not prove that the soul was immortal, nor that it was experiencing retribution, nor even that it was conscious. And we do not deny that the ancient Jews believed that the spirits of the dead retained a nerveless, shadowy being in the solemn vaults of the under world. The Hebrew word rendered soul in the text is susceptible of three meanings: first, the shade, which, upon the dissolution of the body, is gathered to its fathers in the great subterranean congregation; second, the breath of a person, used as synonymous with his life; third, a part of the vital breath of God, which the Hebrews regarded as the source of the life of all creatures, and the withdrawing of which they supposed was the cause of death. It is clear that neither of these meanings can prove any thing in regard to the real point at issue, that is, concerning a future life of rewards and punishments. One of the strongest arguments brought to support the proposition which we are combating at least, so considered by nearly all the Rabbins, and by not a few modern critics is the account of the vivification of the dead recorded in the thirty seventh chapter of the Book of Ezekiel. The prophet "was carried in the spirit of Jehovah" that is, mentally, in a prophetic ecstasy into a valley full of dry bones. "The bones came together, the flesh 2 Livy, i. 16; Dion. Hal. ii. 56. grew on them, the breath came into them, and they lived and stood on their feet, an exceeding great army." It should first be observed that this account is not given as an actual occurrence, but, after the manner of Ezekiel, as a prophetic vision meant to symbolize something. Now, of what was it intended as the symbol? a doctrine, or a coming event? a general truth to enlighten and guide uncertain men, or an approaching deliverance to console and encourage the desponding Jews? It is fair to let the prophet be his own interpreter, without aid from the glosses of prejudiced theorizers. It must be borne in mind that at this time the prophet and his countrymen were bearing the grievous burden of bondage in a foreign nation. "And Jehovah said to me, Son of man, these bones denote the whole house of Israel. Behold, they say, Our bones are dried, and our hope is lost, and we are cut off." This plainly denotes their present suffering in the Babylonish captivity, and their despair of being delivered from it. "Therefore prophesy, and say to them, Thus saith the Lord Jehovah, Behold, I will open your graves and cause you to come up out of your graves, O my people, and bring you into the land of Israel." That is, I will rescue you from your slavery and restore you to freedom in your own land. The dry bones and their subsequent vivification, therefore, clearly symbolize the misery of the Israelites and their speedy restoration to happiness. Death is frequently used in a figurative sense to denote misery, and life to signify happiness. But those who maintain that the doctrine of the resurrection is taught as a revealed truth in the Hebrew Scriptures are not willing to let this passage pass so easily. Mr. Barnes says, "The illustration proves that the doctrine was one with which the people were familiar." Jerome states the argument more fully, thus: "A similitude drawn from the resurrection, to foreshadow the restoration of the people of Israel, would never have been employed unless the resurrection itself were believed to be a fact of future occurrence; for no one thinks of confirming what is uncertain by what has no existence." It is not difficult to reply to these objections with convincing force. First, the vision was not used as proof or confirmation, but as symbol and prophecy. Secondly, the use of any thing as an illustration does by no means imply that it is commonly believed as a fact. For instance, we are told in the ninth chapter of the Book of Judges that Jotham related an allegory to the people as an illustration of their conduct in choosing a king, saying, "The trees once on a time went forth to anoint a king over them; and they said to the olive tree, Come thou and reign over us;" and so on. Does it follow that at that time it was a common belief that the trees actually went forth occasionally to choose them a king? Thirdly, if a given thing is generally believed as a fact, a person who uses it expressly as a symbol, of course does not thereby give his sanction to it as a fact. And if a belief in the resurrection of the dead was generally entertained at the time of the prophet, its origin is not implied, and it does not follow that it was a doctrine of revelation, or even a true doctrine. Finally, there is one consideration which shows conclusively that this vision was never intended to typify the resurrection; namely, that it has nothing corresponding to the most essential part of that doctrine. When the bones have come together and are covered with flesh, God does not call up the departed spirits of these bodies from Sheol, does not bring back the vanished lives to animate their former tabernacles, now miraculously renewed. No: he but breathes on them with his vivifying breath, and straightway they live and move. This is not a resurrection, but a new creation. The common idea of a bodily restoration implies and, that any just retribution be compatible with it, it necessarily implies the vivification of the dead frame, not by the introduction of new life, but by the reinstalment of the very same life or spirit, the identical consciousness that before animated it. Such is not represented as being the case in Ezekiel's vision of the valley of dry bones. That vision had no reference to the future state. In this connection, the revelation made by the angel in his prophecy, recorded in the twelfth chapter of the Book of Daniel, concerning the things which should happen in the Messianic times, must not be passed without notice. It reads as follows: "And many of the sleepers of the dust of the ground shall awake, those to life everlasting, and these to shame, to contempt everlasting. And they that are wise shall shine as the brightness of the firmament, and they that turn many to righteousness, as the stars for ever and ever." No one can deny that a judgment, in which reward and punishment shall be distributed according to merit, is here clearly foretold. The meaning of the text, taken with the connection, is, that when the Messiah appears and establishes his kingdom the righteous shall enjoy a bodily resurrection upon the earth to honor and happiness, but the wicked shall be left below in darkness and death.3 This seems to imply, fairly enough, that until the advent of the Messiah none of the dead existed consciously in a state of retribution. The doctrine of the passage, as is well known, was held by some of the Jews at the beginning of the Christian era, and, less distinctly, for about two centuries previous. Before that time no traces of it can be found in their history. Now, had a doctrine of such intense interest and of such vast importance as this been a matter of revelation, it seems hardly possible that it should have been confined to one brief and solitary text, that it should have flashed up for a single moment so brilliantly, and then vanished for three or four centuries in utter darkness. Furthermore, nearly one half of the Book of Daniel is written in the Chaldee tongue, and the other half in the Hebrew, indicating that it had two authors, who wrote their respective portions at different periods. Its critical and minute details of events are history rather than prophecy. The greater part of the book was undoubtedly written as late as about a hundred and sixty years before Christ, long after the awful simplicity and solitude of the original Hebrew theology had been marred and corrupted by an intermixture of the doctrines of those heathen nations with whom the Jews had been often brought in contact. Such being the facts in the case, the text is evidently without force to prove a divine revelation of the doctrine it teaches. In the twenty second chapter of the Gospel by Matthew, Jesus says to the Sadducees, "But as touching the resurrection of the dead, have ye not read that which was spoken unto you by God, saying, I am the God of Abraham, and the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob? God is not the God of the dead, but of the living." The passage to which reference is made is written in the third chapter of the Book of Exodus. In order to ascertain the force of the Savior's argument, the extent of meaning it had in his mind, and the amount of knowledge attributed by it to Moses, it will be necessary to determine first the definite purpose he had 3 Wood, The Last Things, p. 45. in view in his reply to the Sadducees, and how he proposed to accomplish it. We shall find that the use he made of the text does not imply that Moses had the slightest idea of any sort of future life for man, much less of an immortal life of blessedness for the good and of suffering for the bad. We should suppose, beforehand, that such would be the case, since upon examining the declaration cited, with its context, we find it to be simply a statement made by Jehovah explaining who he was, that he was the ancient national guardian of the Jews, the Lord God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. This does not seem to contain the most distant allusion to the immortality of man, or to have suggested any such thought to the mind of Moses. It should be distinctly understood from the outset that Jesus did not quote this passage from the Pentateuch as proving any thing of itself, or as enabling him to prove any thing by it directly, but as being of acknowledged authority to the Sadducees themselves, to form the basis of a process of reasoning. The purpose he had in view, plainly, was to convince the Sadducees either of the possibility or of the actuality of the resurrection of the dead: its possibility, if we assume that by resurrection he meant the Jewish doctrine of a material restoration, the reunion of soul and body; its actuality, if we suppose he meant the conscious immortality of the soul separate from the body. If the resurrection was physical, Christ demonstrates to the Sadducees its possibility, by refuting the false notion upon which they based their denial of it. They said, The resurrection of the body is impossible, because the principle of life, the consciousness, has utterly perished, and the body cannot live alone. He replied, It is possible, because the soul has an existence separate from the body, and, consequently, may be reunited to it. You admit that Jehovah said, after they were dead, I am the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob: but he is the God of the living, and not of the dead, for all live unto him. You must confess this. The soul, then, survives the body, and a resurrection is possible. It will be seen that this implies nothing concerning the nature or duration of the separate existence, but merely the fact of it. But, if Christ meant by the resurrection of the dead as we think he did the introduction of the disembodied and conscious soul into a state of eternal blessedness, the Sadducees denied its reality by maintaining that no such thing as a soul existed after bodily dissolution. He then proved to them its reality in the following manner. You believe for Moses, to whose authority you implicitly bow, relates it that God said, "I am the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob," and this, long after they died. But evidently he cannot be said to be the God of that which does not exist: therefore their souls must have been still alive. And if Jehovah was emphatically their God, their friend, of course he will show them his loving kindness. They are, then, in a conscious state of blessedness. The Savior does not imply that God said so much in substance, nor that Moses intended to teach, or even knew, any thing like it, but that, by adding to the passage cited a premise of his own, which his hearers granted to be true, he could deduce so much from it by a train of new and unanswerable reasoning. His opponents were compelled to admit the legitimacy of his argument, and, impressed by its surpassing beauty and force, were silenced, if not convinced. The credit of this cogent proof of human immortality, namely, that God's love for man is a pledge and warrant of his eternal blessedness a proof whose originality and significance set it far beyond all parallel is due to the dim gropings of no Hebrew prophet, but to the inspired insight of the great Founder of Christianity. The various passages yet unnoticed which purport to have been uttered by Jehovah or at his command, and which are urged to show that the reality of a retributive life after death is a revealed doctrine of the Old Testament, will be found, upon critical examination, either to owe their entire relevant force to mistranslation, or to be fairly refuted by the reasonings already advanced. Professor Stuart admits that he finds only one consideration to show that Moses had any idea of a future retribution; and that is, that the Egyptians expressly believed it; and he is not able to comprehend how Moses, who dwelt so long among them, should be ignorant of it.4 The reasoning is obviously inconsequential. It is not certain that the Egyptians held this doctrine in the time of Moses: it may have prevailed among them before or after, and not during, that period. If they believed it at that time, it may have been an esoteric doctrine, with which he did not become acquainted. If they believed it, and he knew it, he might have classed it with other heathen doctrines, and supposed it false. And, even if he himself believed it, he might possibly not have inculcated it upon the Israelites; and the question is, what he did actually teach, not what he knew. The opinions of the Jews at the time of the Savior have no bearing upon the point in hand, because they were acquired at a later period than that of the writing of the records we are now considering. They were formed, and gradually grew in consistency and favor, either by the natural progress of thought among the Jews themselves, or, more probably, by a blending of the intimations of the Hebrew Scriptures with Gentile speculations, the doctrines of the Egyptians, Hindus, and Persians. We leave this portion of the subject, then, with the following proposition. In the canonic books of the Old Dispensation there is not a single genuine text, claiming to come from God, which teaches explicitly any doctrine whatever of a life beyond the grave. That doctrine as it existed among the Jews was no part of their pure religion, but was a part of their philosophy. It did not, as they held it, imply any thing like our present idea of the immortality of the soul reaping in the spiritual world what it has sowed in the physical. It simply declared the existence of human ghosts amidst unbroken gloom and stillness in the cavernous depths of the earth, without reward, without punishment, without employment, scarcely with consciousness, as will immediately appear. We proceed to the second general division of the subject. What does the Old Testament, apart from the revelation claimed to be contained in it, and regarding only those portions of it which are confessedly a collection of the poetry, history, and philosophy of the Hebrews, intimate concerning a future state of existence? Examining these writings with an unbiased mind, we discover that in different portions of them there are large variations and opposition of opinion. In some books we trace an undoubting belief in certain rude notions of the future condition of souls; in other books we encounter unqualified denials of every such thought. "Man lieth down and riseth not," sighs the despairing Job. "The dead cannot praise God, neither any that go down into darkness," wails the repining Psalmist. "All go to one place," 4 Exegetical Essays, (Andover, 1830,) p. 108. and "the dead know not any thing," asserts the disbelieving Preacher. These inconsistencies we shall not stop to point out and comment upon. They are immaterial to our present purpose, which is to bring together, in their general agreement, the sum and substance of the Hebrew ideas on this subject. The separate existence of the soul is necessarily implied by the distinction the Hebrews made between the grave, or sepulchre, and the under world, or abode of shades. The Hebrew words bor and keber mean simply the narrow place in which the dead body is buried; while Sheol represents an immense cavern in the interior of the earth where the ghosts of the deceased are assembled. When the patriarch was told that his son Joseph was slain by wild beasts, he cried aloud, in bitter sorrow, "I will go down to Sheol unto my son, mourning." He did not expect to meet Joseph in the grave; for he supposed his body torn in pieces and scattered in the wilderness, not laid in the family tomb. The dead are said to be "gathered to their people," or to "sleep with their fathers," and this whether they are interred in the same place or in a remote region. It is written, "Abraham gave up the ghost, and was gathered unto his people," notwithstanding his body was laid in a cave in the field of Machpelah, close by Hebron, while his people were buried in Chaldea and Mesopotamia. "Isaac gave up the ghost and died, and was gathered unto his people;" and then we read, as if it were done afterwards, "His sons, Jacob and Esau, buried him." These instances might be multiplied. They prove that "to be gathered unto one's fathers" means to descend into Sheol and join there the hosts of the departed. A belief in the separate existence of the soul is also involved in the belief in necromancy, or divination, the prevalence of which is shown by the stern laws against those who engaged in its unhallowed rites, and by the history of the witch of Endor. She, it is said, by magical spells evoked the shade of old Samuel from below. It must have been the spirit of the prophet that was supposed to rise; for his body was buried at Ramah, more than sixty miles from Endor. The faith of the Hebrews in the separate existence of the soul is shown, furthermore, by the fact that the language they employed expresses, in every instance, the distinction of body and spirit. They had particular words appropriated to each. "As thy soul liveth," is a Hebrew oath. "With my spirit within me will I seek thee early." "I, Daniel, was grieved in my spirit in the midst of my body:" the figure here represents the soul in the body as a sword in a sheath. "Our bones are scattered at the mouth of the under world, as when one cutteth and cleaveth wood upon the earth;" that is, the soul, expelled from its case of clay by the murderer's weapon, flees into Sheol and leaves its exuvioe at the entrance. "Thy voice shall be as that of a spirit out of the ground:" the word "Lhere used signifies the shade evoked by a necromancer from the region of death, which was imagined to speak in a feeble whisper. The term rephaim is used to denote the manes of the departed. The etymology of the word, as well as its use, makes it mean the weak, the relaxed. "I am counted as them that go down into the under world; I am as a man that hath no strength." This faint, powerless condition accords with the idea that they were destitute of flesh, blood, and animal life, mere umbroe. These ghosts are described as being nearly as destitute of sensation as they are of strength. They are called "the inhabitants of the land of stillness." They exist in an inactive, partially torpid state, with a dreamy consciousness of past and present, neither suffering nor enjoying, and seldom moving. Herder says of the Hebrews, "The sad and mournful images of their ghostly realm disturbed them, and were too much for their self possession." Respecting these images, he adds, "Their voluntary force and energy were destroyed. They were feeble as a shade, without distinction of members, as a nerveless breath. They wandered and flitted in the dark nether world." This "wandering and flitting," however, is rather the spirit of Herder's poetry than of that of the Hebrews; for the whole tenor and drift of the representations in the Old Testament show that the state of disembodied souls is deep quietude. Freed from bondage, pain, toil, and care, they repose in silence. The ghost summoned from beneath by the witch of Endor said, "Why hast thou disquieted me to bring me up?" It was, indeed, in a dismal abode that they took their long quiet; but then it was in a place "where the wicked ceased from troubling and the weary were at rest." Those passages which attribute active employments to the dwellers in the under world are specimens of poetic license, as the context always shows. When Job says, "Before Jehovah the shades beneath tremble," he likewise declares, "The pillars of heaven tremble and are confounded at his rebuke." When Isaiah breaks forth in that stirring lyric to the King of Babylon, "The under world is in commotion on account of thee, To meet thee at thy coming; It stirreth up before thee the shades, all the mighty of the earth; It arouseth from their thrones all the kings of the nations; They all accost thee, and say, Art thou too become weak as we?" he also exclaims, in the same connection, "Even the cypress trees exult over thee, And the cedars of Lebanon, saying, Since thou art fallen, No man cometh up to cut us down." The activity thus vividly described is evidently a mere figure of speech: so is it in the other instances which picture the rephaim as employed and in motion. "Why," complainingly sighed the afflicted patriarch, "why died I not at my birth? For now should I lie down and be quiet; I should slumber; I should then be at rest." And the wise man says, in his preaching, "There is no work, nor device, nor knowledge, nor wisdom, in Sheol." What has already been said is sufficient to establish the fact that the Hebrews had an idea that the souls of men left their bodies at death and existed as dim shadows, in a state of undisturbed repose, in the bowels of the earth. Sheol is directly derived from a Hebrew word, signifying, first, to dig or excavate. It means, therefore, a cavity, or empty subterranean place. Its derivation is usually connected, however, with the secondary meaning of the Hebrew word referred to, namely, to ask, to desire, from the notion of demanding, since rapacious Orcus lays claim unsparingly to all; or, as others have fancifully construed it, the object of universal inquiry, the unknown mansion concerning which all are anxiously inquisitive. The place is conceived on an immense scale, shrouded in accompaniments of gloomy grandeur and peculiar awe: an enormous cavern in the earth, filled with night; a stupendous hollow kingdom, to which are poetically attributed valleys and gates, and in which are congregated the slumberous and shadowy hosts of the rephaim, never able to go out of it again forever. Its awful stillness is unbroken by noise. Its thick darkness is uncheered by light. It stretches far down under the ground. It is wonderfully deep. In language that reminds one of Milton's description of hell, where was "No light, but rather darkness visible," Job describes it as "the land of darkness, like the blackness of death shade, where is no order, and where the light is as darkness." The following passages, selected almost at random, will show the ideas entertained of the place, and confirm and illustrate the foregoing statements. "But he considers not that in the valleys of Sheol are her guests." "Now shall I go down into the gates of Sheol." "The ground slave asunder, and the earth opened her mouth, and swallowed them up, and their houses, and all their men, and all their goods: they and all that appertained to them went down alive into Sheol, and the earth closed upon them." Its depth is contrasted with the height of the sky. "Though they dig into Sheol, thence shall mine hand take them; though they climb up to heaven, thence will I bring them down." It is the destination of all; for, though the Hebrews believed in a world of glory above the solid ceiling of the dome of day, where Jehovah and the angels dwelt, there was no promise, hope, or hint that any man could ever go there. The dirge like burden of their poetry was literally these words: "What man is he that liveth and shall not see death? Shall he deliver his spirit from the hand of Sheol?" The old Hebrew graves were crypts, wide, deep holes, like the habitations of the troglodytes. In these subterranean caves they laid the dead down; and so the Grave became the mother of Sheol, a rendezvous of the fathers, a realm of the dead, full of eternal ghost life. This under world is dreary and altogether undesirable, save as an escape from extreme anguish. But it is not a place of retribution. Jahn says, "That, in the belief of the ancient Hebrews, there were different situations in Sheol for the good and the bad, cannot be proved."5 The sudden termination of the present life is the judgment the Old Testament threatens upon sinners; its happy prolongation is the reward it promises to the righteous. Texts that prove this might be quoted in numbers from almost every page. "The wicked shall be turned into Sheol, and all the nations that forget God," not to be punished there, but as a punishment. It is true, the good and the bad alike pass into that gloomy land; but the former go down tranquilly in a good old age and full of days, as a shock of corn fully ripe cometh in its season, while the latter are suddenly hurried there by an untimely and miserable fate. The man that loves the Lord shall have length of days; the unjust, though for a moment he flourishes, yet the wind bloweth, and where is he? We shall perhaps gain a more clear and adequate knowledge of the ideas the Hebrews had of the soul and of its fate, by marking the different meanings of the words they used to 5 Biblical Archeology, sect. 314. denote it. Neshamah, primarily meaning breath or airy effluence, next expresses the Spirit of God as imparting life and force, wisdom and love; also the spirit of man as its emanation, creation, or sustained object. The citation of a few texts in which the word occurs will set this in a full light. "The Lord God formed man of the dust of the ground, and breathed into his nostrils the spirit of existence, and man became a conscious being." "It is the divine spirit of man, even the inspiration of the Almighty, that giveth him understanding." "The Spirit of God made me, and his breath gave me life." Ruah signifies, originally, a breathing or blowing. Two other meanings are directly connected with this. First, the vital spirit, the principle of life as manifested in the breath of the mouth and nostrils. "And they went in unto Noah into the ark, two and two of all flesh in whose nostrils was the breath of life." Second, the wind, the motions of the air, which the Hebrews supposed caused by the breath of God. "By the blast of thine anger the waters were gathered on an heap." "The channels of waters were seen, and the foundations of the world were discovered, O Lord, at the blast of the breath of thy nostrils." So they regarded the thunder as his voice. "The voice of Jehovah cutteth out the fiery lightnings," and "shaketh the wilderness of Kadesh." This word is also frequently placed for the rational spirit of man, the seat of intellect and feeling. It is likewise sometimes representative of the character and disposition of men, whether good or bad. Hosea speaks of "a spirit of vile lust." In the Second Book of Chronicles we read, "There came out a spirit, and stood before Jehovah, and said, I will entice King Ahab to his destruction. I will go out and be a lying spirit in the mouth of all his prophets." Belshazzar says to Daniel, "I know that the spirit of the holy gods is in thee." Finally, it is applied to Jehovah, signifying the divine spirit, or power, by which all animate creatures live, the universe is filled with motion, all extraordinary gifts of skill, genius, strength, or virtue are bestowed, and men incited to forsake evil and walk in the paths of truth and piety. "Thou sendest forth thy spirit, they are created, and thou renewest the face of the earth; thou takest away their breath, they die and return to their dust." "Jehovah will be a spirit of justice in them that sit to administer judgment." It seems to be implied that the life of man, having emanated from the spirit, is to be again absorbed in it, when it is said, "Then shall the dust return to the earth as it was, and the spirit shall return unto God who gave it." Nephesh is but partially a synonym for the word whose significations we have just considered. The different senses it bears are strangely interchanged and confounded in King James's version. Its first meaning is breath, the breathing of a living being. Next it means the vital spirit, the indwelling life of the body. "If any mischief follow, thou shalt take life for life." The most adequate rendering of it would be, in a great majority of instances, by the term life. "In jeopardy of his life [not soul] hath Adonijah spoken this." It sometimes represents the intelligent soul or mind, the subject of knowledge and desire. "My soul knoweth right well.". Also the heart, is often used more frequently perhaps than any other term as meaning the vital principle, and the seat of consciousness, intellect, will, and affection. Jehovah said to Solomon, in answer to his prayer, "Lo, I have given thee a wise and an understanding heart." The later Jews speculated much, with many cabalistic refinements, on these different words. They said many persons were supplied with a Nephesh without a Ruah, much more without a Neshamah. They declared that the Nephesh (Psyche) was the soul of the body, the Ruah (Pneuma) the soul of the Nephesh, and the Neshamah (Nous) the soul of the Ruah. Some of the Rabbins assert that the destination of the Nephesh, when the body dies, is Sheol; of the Ruah, the air; and of the Neshamah, heaven. 6 The Hebrews used all those words in speaking of brutes, to denote their sensitive existence, that they did in reference to men. They held that life was in every instance an emission, or breath, from the Spirit of God. But they do not intimate of brutes, as they do of men, that they have surviving shades. The author of the Book of Ecclesiastes, however, bluntly declares that "all have one breath, and all go to one place, so that a man hath no pre eminence above a beast." As far as the words used to express existence, soul, or mind, legitimate any inference, it would seem to be, either that the essential life is poured out at death as so much air, or else that it is received again by God, in both cases implying naturally, though not of philosophic necessity, the close of conscious, individual existence. But the examination we have made of their real opinions shows that, however obviously this conclusion might flow from their pneumatology, it was not the expectation they cherished. They believed there was a dismal empire in the earth where the rephaim, or ghosts of the dead, reposed forever in a state of semi sleep. "It is a land of shadows: yea, the land Itself is but a shadow, and the race That dwell therein are voices, forms of forms. And echoes of themselves." That the Hebrews, during the time covered by their sacred records, had no conception of a retributive life beyond the present, knew nothing of a blessed immortality, is shown by two conclusive arguments, in addition to the positive demonstration afforded by the views which, as we have seen, they did actually hold in regard to the future lot of man. First, they were puzzled, they were troubled and distressed, by the moral phenomena of the present life, the misfortunes of the righteous, the prosperity of the wicked. Read the Book of Ecclesiastes, the Book of Job, some of the Psalms. Had they been acquainted with future reward and punishment, they could easily have solved these problems to their satisfaction. Secondly, they regarded life as the one blessing, death as the one evil. Something of sadness, we may suppose, was in the wise man's tones when he said, "A living dog is better than a dead lion." Obey Jehovah's laws, that thy days may be long in the land he giveth thee; the wicked shall not live out half his days: such is the burden of the Old Testament. It was reserved for a later age to see life and immortality brought to light, and for the disciples of a clearer faith to feel that death is gain. There are many passages in the Hebrew Scriptures generally supposed and really appearing, upon a slight examination, not afterwards to teach doctrines different from those here stated. We will give two examples in a condensed form. "Thou wilt not leave 6 Tractatus de Anima a R. Moscheh Korduero. In Kabbala Denudata. tom. i. pars ii. my soul in Sheol: . . . at thy right hand are pleasures for evermore." This text, properly translated and explained, means, Thou wilt not leave me to misfortune and untimely death: . . . in thy royal favor is prosperity and length of days. "I know that my Redeemer liveth:. . . in my flesh I shall see God." The genuine meaning of this triumphant exclamation of faith is, I know that God is the Vindicator of the upright, and that he will yet justify me before I die. A particular examination of the remaining passages of this character with which erroneous conceptions are generally connected would show, first, that in nearly every case these passages are not accurately translated; secondly, that they may be satisfactorily interpreted as referring merely to this life, and cannot by a sound exegesis be explained otherwise; thirdly, that the meaning usually ascribed to them is inconsistent with the whole general tenor, and with numberless positive and explicit statements, of the books in which they are found; fourthly, that if there are, as there dubiously seem to be in some of the Psalms, texts implying the ascent of souls after death to a heavenly life, for example, "Thou shalt guide me with thy countenance, and afterward receive me to glory," they were the product of a late period, and reflect a faith not native to the Hebrews, but first known to them after their intercourse with the Persians. Christians reject the allegorizing of the Jews, and yet traditionally accept, on their authority, doctrines which can be deduced from their Scriptures in no other way than by the absurd hypothesis of a double or mystic sense. For example, scores of Christian authors have taught the dogma of a general resurrection of the dead, deducing it from such passages as God's sentence upon Adam: "From the dust wast thou taken, and unto the dust shalt thou return;" as Joel's patriotic picture of the Jews victorious in battle, and of the vanquished heathen gathered in the valley of Jehoshaphat to witness their installation as rulers of the earth; and as the declaration of the God of battles: "I am he that kills and that makes alive, that wounds and that heals." And they maintain that the doctrine of immortality is inculcated in such texts as these: when Moses asks to see God, and the reply is, "No man can see me and live;" when Bathsheba bows and says, "Let my lord King David live forever;" and when the sacred poet praises God, saying, "Thou hast delivered my soul from death, mine eyes from tears, and my feet from falling." Such interpretations of Scripture are lamentable in the extreme; their context shows them to be absurd. The meaning is forced into the words, not derived from them. Such as we have now seen were the ancient Hebrew ideas of the future state. To those who received them the life to come was cheerless, offering no attraction save that of peace to the weary sufferer. On the other hand, it had no terror save the natural revulsion of the human heart from everlasting darkness, silence, and dreams. In view of deliverance from so dreary a fate, by translation through Jesus Christ to the splendors of the world above the firmament, there are many exultations in the Epistles of Paul, and in other portions of the New Testament. The Hebrew views of the soul and its destiny, as discerned through the intimations of their Scriptures are very nearly what, from a fair consideration of the case, we should suppose they would be, agreeing in the main with the natural speculations of other early nations upon the same subject. These opinions underwent but little alteration until a century or a century and a half before the dawn of the Christian era. This is shown by the phraseology of the Septuagint version of the Pentateuch, and by the allusions in the so called Apocryphal books. In these, so far as there are any relevant statements or implications, they are of the same character as those which we have explained from the more ancient writings. This is true, with the notable exceptions of the Wisdom of Solomon and the Second Maccabees, neither of which documents can be dated earlier than a hundred and twenty years before Christ. The former contains the doctrine of transmigration. The author says, "Being wise, I came into a body undefiled."7 But, with the exception of this and one other passage, there is little or nothing in the book which is definite on the subject of a future life. It is difficult to tell what the author's real faith was: his words seem rather rhetorical than dogmatic. He says, "To be allied unto wisdom is immortality;" but other expressions would appear to show that by immortality he means merely a deathless posthumous fame, "leaving an eternal memorial of himself to all who shall come after him." Again he declares, "The spirit when it is gone forth returneth not; neither the soul received up cometh again." And here we find, too, the famous text, "God created man to be immortal, and made him to be an image of his own eternity. Nevertheless, through envy of the devil came death into the world, and they that hold of his side do find it."8 Upon the whole, it is pretty clear that the writer believed in a future life; but the details are too partially and obscurely shadowed to be drawn forth. We may, however, hazard a conjecture on the passage last quoted, especially with the help of the light cast upon it from its evident Persian origin. What is it, expressed by the term "death," which is found by the adherents of the devil distinctively? "Death" cannot here be a metaphor for an inward state of sin and woe, because it is contrasted with the plainly literal phrases, "created to be immortal," "an image of God's eternity." It cannot signify simply physical dissolution, because this is found as well by God's servants as by the devil's. Its genuine meaning is, most probably, a descent into the black kingdom of sadness and silence under the earth, while the souls of the good were "received up." The Second Book of Maccabees with emphasis repeatedly asserts future retribution and a bodily resurrection. In the seventh chapter a full account is given of seven brothers and their mother who suffered martyrdom, firmly sustained by faith in a glorious reward for their heroic fidelity, to be reaped at the resurrection. One of them says to the tyrant by whose order he was tortured, "As for thee, thou shalt have no resurrection to life." Nicanor, bleeding from many horrible wounds, "plucked out his bowels and cast them upon the throng, and, calling upon the Lord of life and spirit to restore him those again, [at the day of resurrection,] he thus died."9 Other passages in this book to the same effect it is needless to quote. The details lying latent in those we have quoted will soon be illuminated and filled out when we come to treat of the opinions of the Pharisees. 10 7 Cap. viii. 20. 8 Cap. ii. 23, 24. 9 Cap. xiv. 46. 10 See a very able discussion of the relation between the ideas concerning immortality, resurrection, judgment, and retribution, contained in the Old Testament Apocrypha, and those in the New Testament, by Frisch, inserted in Eichhorn's Allgemeine Bibliothek der Biblischen Literatur, band iv. stuck iv. There lived in Alexandria a very learned Jew named Philo, the author of voluminous writings, a zealous Israelite, but deeply imbued both with the doctrines and the spirit of Plato. He was born about twenty years before Christ, and survived him about thirty years. The weight of his character, the force of his talents, the fascinating adaptation of his peculiar philosophical speculations and of his bold and subtle allegorical expositions of Scripture to the mind of his age and of the succeeding centuries, together with the eminent literary position and renown early secured for him by a concurrence of causes, have combined to make him exert according to the expressed convictions of the best judges, such as Lucke and Norton a greater influence on the history of Christian opinions than any single man, with the exception of the Apostle Paul, since the days of Christ. It is important, and will be interesting, to see some explanation of his views on the subject of a future life. A synopsis of them must suffice. Philo was a Platonic Alexandrian Jew, not a Zoroastrian Palestinian Pharisee. It was a current saying among the Christian Fathers, "Vel Plato Philonizat, vel Philo Platonizat." He has little to say of the Messiah, nothing to say of the Messianic eschatology. We speak of him in this connection because he was a Jew, flourishing at the commencement of the Christian epoch, and contributing much, by his cabalistic interpretations, to lead Christians to imagine that the Old Testament contained the doctrine of a spiritual immortality connected with a system of rewards and punishments. Three principal points include the substance of Philo's faith on the subject in hand. He rejected the notion of a resurrection of the body and held to the natural immortality of the soul. He entertained the most profound and spiritual conceptions of the intrinsically deadly nature and wretched fruits of all sin, and of the self contained welfare and self rewarding results of every element of virtue, in themselves, independent of time and place and regardless of external bestowments of woe or joy. He also believed at the same time in contrasted localities above and below, appointed as the residences of the disembodied souls of good and of wicked men. We will quote miscellaneously various passages from him in proof and illustration of these statements: "Man's bodily form is made from the ground, the soul from no created thing, but from the Father of all; so that, although man was mortal as to his body, he was immortal as to his mind."11 "Complete virtue is the tree of immortal life."12 "Vices and crimes, rushing in through the gate of sensual pleasure, changed a happy and immortal life for a wretched and mortal one."13 Referring to the allegory of the garden of Eden, he says, "The death threatened for eating the fruit was not natural, the separation of soul and body, but penal, the sinking of the soul in the body."14 "Death is twofold, one of man, one of the soul. The death of man is the separation of the soul from the body; the death of the soul is the corruption of virtue 11 Mangey's edition of Philo's works, vol. i. p. 32. 12 Ibid. p. 38. 13 Ibid. p. 37. 14 Ibid. p. 65. and the assumption of vice."15 "To me, death with the pious is preferable to life with the impious. For those so dying, deathless life delivers; but those so living, eternal death seizes."16 He writes of three kinds of life, "one of which neither ascends nor cares to ascend, groping in the secret recesses of Hades and rejoicing in the most lifeless life."17 Commenting on the promise of the Lord to Abram, that he should be buried in a good old age, Philo observes that "A polished, purified soul does not die, but emigrates: it is of an inextinguishable and deathless race, and goes to heaven, escaping the dissolution and corruption which death seems to introduce."18 "A vile life is the true Hades, despicable and obnoxious to every sort of execration." 19 "Different regions are set apart for different things, heaven for the good, the confines of the earth for the bad."20 He thinks the ladder seen by Jacob in his dream "is a figure of the air, which, reaching from earth to heaven, is the house of unembodied souls, the image of a populous city having for citizens immortal souls, some of whom descend into mortal bodies, but soon return aloft, calling the body a sepulchre from which they hasten, and, on light wings seeking the lofty ether, pass eternity in sublime contemplations."21 "The wise inherit the Olympic and heavenly region to dwell in, always studying to go above; the bad, the innermost parts of Hades, always laboring to die."22 He literally accredits the account, in the sixteenth chapter of Numbers, of the swallowing of Korah and his company, saying, "The earth opened and took them alive into Hades."23 "Ignorant men regard death as the end of punishments, whereas in the Divine judgment it is scarcely the beginning of them."24 He describes the meritorious man as "fleeing to God and receiving the most intimate honor of a firm place in heaven; but the reprobate man is dragged below, down to the very lowest place, to Tartarus itself and profound darkness."25 "He who is not firmly held by evil may by repentance return to virtue, as to the native land from which he has wandered. But he who suffers from incurable vice must endure its dire penalties, banished into the place of the impious until the whole of eternity."26 Such, then, was the substance of Philo's opinions on the theme before us, as indeed many more passages, which we have omitted as superfluous, might be cited from him to show. Man was made originally a mortal body and an immortal soul. He should have been happy and pure while in the body, and on leaving it have soared up to the realm of light and bliss on high, to join the angels. "Abraham, leaving his mortal part, was added to the people of God, 15 Ibid. p. 65. 16 Ibid. p. 233. 17 Ibid. p. 479. 18 Ibid. p. 513. 19 Ibid. p. 527. 20 Ibid. p. 555. 21 Ibid. p. 641, 642. 22 Ibid. p. 643. 23 Ibid. vol. ii. p. 178. 24 Ibid. p. 419. 25 Mangey's edition of Philo's Works, vol. ii. p. 433. 26 Ibid. vol. i. p. 139. enjoying immortality and made similar to the angels. For the angels are the army of God, bodiless and happy souls."27 But, through the power of evil, all who yield to sin and vice lose that estate of bright and blessed immortality, and become discordant, wretched, despicable, and, after the dissolution of the body, are thrust down to gloom and manifold just retribution in Hades. He believed in the pre existence, and in a limited transmigration, of souls. Here he leaves the subject, saying nothing of a resurrection or final restoration, and not speculating as to any other of the details. 28 We pass on to speak of the Jewish sects at the time of Christ. There were three of these, cardinally differing from each other in their theories of the future fate of man. First, there were the skeptical, materialistic Sadducees, wealthy, proud, few. They openly denied the existence of any disembodied souls, avowing that men utterly perished in the grave. "The cloud faileth and passeth away: so he that goeth down to the grave doth not return."29 We read in the Acts of the Apostles, "The Sadducees say there is no resurrection, neither angel nor spirit." At the same time they accepted the Pentateuch, only rejecting or explaining away those portions of it which relate to the separate existence of souls and to their subterranean abode. They strove to confound their opponents, the advocates of a future life, by such perplexing questions as the one they addressed to Jesus, asking, in the case of a woman who had had seven successive husbands, which one of them should be her husband in the resurrection. All that we can gather concerning the Sadducees from the New Testament is amply confirmed by Josephus, who explicitly declares, "Their doctrine is that souls die with the bodies." The second sect was the ascetical and philosophical Essenes, of whom the various information given by Philo in his celebrated paper on the Therapeuta agrees with the account in Josephus and with the scattered gleams in other sources. The doctrine of the Essenes on the subject of our present inquiry was much like that of Philo himself; and in some particulars it remarkably resembles that of many Christians. They rejected the notion of the resurrection of the body, and maintained the inherent immortality of the soul. They said that "the souls of men, coming out of the most subtle and pure air, are bound up in their bodies as in so many prisons; but, being freed at death, they do rejoice, and are borne aloft where a state of happy life forever is decreed for the virtuous; but the vicious are assigned to eternal punishment in a dark, cold place." 30 Such sentiments appear to have inspired the heroic Eleazar, whose speech to his followers is reported by Josephus, when they were besieged at Masada, urging them to rush on the foe, "for death is better than life, is the only true life, leading the soul to infinite freedom and joy above."31 27 Ibid. p. 164. 28 See, in the Analekten of Keil and Tzschirner, band i stuck ii., an article by Dr. Schreiter, entitled Philo's Ideen uber Unsterblichkeit, Auferstehung, und Vergeltung. 29 Lightfoot in Matt. xxii. 23. 30 Josephus, De Bell. lib. ii. cap. 8. 31 Ibid. lib. vii. cap. 8. But by far the most numerous and powerful of the Jewish sects at that time, and ever since, were the eclectic, traditional, formalist Pharisees: eclectic, inasmuch as their faith was formed by a partial combination of various systems; traditional, since they allowed a more imperative sway to the authority of the Fathers, and to oral legends and precepts, than to the plain letter of Scripture; formalist, for they neglected the weightier spiritual matters of the law in a scrupulous tithing of mint, cumin, and anise seed, a pretentious wearing of broad phylacteries, an uttering of long prayers in the streets, and the various other hypocritical priestly paraphernalia of a severe mechanical ritual. From Josephus we learn that the Pharisees believed that the souls of the faithful that is, of all who punctiliously observed the law of Moses and the traditions of the elders would live again by transmigration into new bodies; but that the souls of all others, on leaving their bodies, were doomed to a place of confinement beneath, where they must abide forever. These are his words: "The Pharisees believe that souls have an immortal strength in them, and that in the under world they will experience rewards or punishments according as they have lived well or ill in this life. The righteous shall have power to live again, but sinners shall be detained in an everlasting prison."32 Again, he writes, "The Pharisees say that all souls are incorruptible, but that only the souls of good men are removed into other bodies."33 The fragment entitled "Concerning Hades," formerly attributed to Josephus, is now acknowledged on all sides to be a gross forgery. The Greek culture and philosophical tincture with which he was imbued led him to reject the doctrine of a bodily resurrection; and this is probably the reason why he makes no allusion to that doctrine in his account of the Pharisees. That such a doctrine was held among them is plain from passages in the New Testament, passages which also shed light upon the statement actually made by Josephus. Jesus says to Martha, "Thy brother shall rise again." She replies, "I know that he shall rise in the resurrection, at the last day." Some of the Pharisees, furthermore, did not confine the privilege or penalty of transmigration, and of the resurrection, to the righteous. They once asked Jesus, "Who did sin, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?" Plainly, he could not have been born blind for his own sins unless he had known a previous life. Paul, too, says of them, in his speech at Casarea, "They themselves also allow that there shall be a resurrection of the dead, both of the just and of the unjust." This, however, is very probably an exception to their prevailing belief. Their religious intolerance, theocratic pride, hereditary national vanity, and sectarian formalism, often led them to despise and overlook the Gentile world, haughtily restricting the boon of a renewed life to the legal children of Abraham. But the grand source now open to us of knowledge concerning the prevailing opinions of the Jews on our present subject at and subsequent to the time of Christ is the Talmud. This is a collection of the traditions of the oral law, (Mischna,) with the copious precepts and comments (Gemara) of the most learned and authoritative Rabbins. It is a wonderful monument of myths and fancies, profound speculations and ridiculous puerilities, antique 32 Antiq. lib. xviii. cap. 1.33 De Bell. lib. ii. cap. 8. legends and cabalistic subtleties, crowned and loaded with the national peculiarities. The Jews reverence it extravagantly, saying, "The Bible is salt, the Mischna pepper, the Gemara balmy spice." Rabbi Solomon ben Joseph sings, in our poet's version, "The Kabbala and Talmud hoar Than all the Prophets prize I more; For water is all Bible lore, But Mischna is pure wine." The rambling character and barbarous dialect of this work have joined with various other causes to withhold from it far too much of the attention of Christian critics. Saving by old Lightfoot and Pocock, scarcely a contribution has ever been offered us in English from this important field. The Germans have done far better; and numerous huge volumes, the costly fruits of their toils, are standing on neglected shelves. The eschatological views derived from this source are authentically Jewish, however closely they may resemble some portion of the popular Christian conceptions upon the same subject. The correspondences between some Jewish and some Christian theological dogmas betoken the influx of an adulterated Judaism into a nascent Christianity, not the reflex of a pure Christianity upon a receptive Judaism. It is important to show this; and it appears from several considerations. In the first place, it is demonstrable, it is unquestioned, that at least the germs and outlines of the dogmas referred to were in actual existence among the Pharisees before the conflict between Christianity and Judaism arose.Secondly, in the Rabbinical writings these dogmas are most fundamental, vital, and pervading, in relation to the whole system; but in the Christian they seem subordinate and incidental, have every appearance of being ingrafts, not outgrowths. Thirdly, in the apostolic age Judaism was a consolidated, petrified system, defended from outward influence on all sides by an invulnerable bigotry, a haughty exclusiveness; while Christianity was in a young and vigorous, an assimilating and formative, state. Fourthly, the overweening sectarian vanity and scorn of the Jews, despising, hating, and fearing the Christians, would not permit them to adopt peculiarities of belief from the latter; but the Christians were undeniably Jews in almost every thing except in asserting the Messiahship of Jesus: they claimed to be the genuine Jews, children of the law and realizers of the promise. The Jewish dogmas, therefore, descended to them as a natural lineal inheritance. Finally, in the Acts of the Apostles, the letters of Paul, and the progress of the Ebionites, (which sect included nearly all the Christians of the first century,) we can trace step by step the actual workings, in reliable history, of the process that we affirm, namely, the assimilation of Jewish elements into the popular Christianity. CHAPTER IX. RABBINICAL DOCTRINE OF A FUTURE LIFE. THE starting point in the Talmud on this subject is with the effects of sin upon the human race. Man was made radiant, pure, immortal, in the image of God. By sin he was obscured, defiled, burdened with mortal decay and judgment. In this representation that misery and death were an after doom brought into the world by sin, the Rabbinical authorities strikingly agree. The testimony is irresistible. We need not quote confirmations of this statement, as every scholar in this department will accept it at once. But as to what is meant precisely by the term "death," as used in such a connection, there is no little obscurity and diversity of opinion. In all probability, some of the Pharisaical fathers perhaps the majority of them conceived that, if Adam had not sinned, he and his posterity would have been physically immortal, and would either have lived forever on the earth, or have been successively transferred to the home of Jehovah over the firmament. They call the devil, who is the chief accuser in the heavenly court of justice, the angel of death, by the name of "Sammael." Rabbi Reuben says, "When Sammael saw Adam sin, he immediately sought to slay him, and went to the heavenly council and clamored for justice against him, pleading thus: 'God made this decree, "In the day thou eatest of the tree thou shalt surely die." Therefore give him to me, for he is mine, and I will kill him; to this end was I created; and give me power over all his descendants.' When the celestial Sanhedrim perceived that his petition was just, they decreed that it should be granted."1 A great many expressions of kindred tenor might easily be adduced, leaving it hardly possible to doubt as indeed we are not aware that any one does doubt that many of the Jews literally held that sin was the sole cause of bodily dissolution. But, on the other hand, there were as certainly others who did not entertain that idea, but understood and explained the terms in which it was sometimes conveyed in a different, a partially figurative, sense. Rabbi Samuel ben David writes, "Although the first Adam had not sinned, yet death would have been; for death was created on the first day." The reference here is, as Rabbi Berechias explains, to the account in Genesis where we read that "darkness was upon the face of the deep," "by which is to be understood the angel of death, who has darkened the face of man."2 The Talmudists generally believed also in the pre existence of souls in heaven, and in a spiritual body investing and fitting the soul for heaven, as the present carnal body invests and fits it for the earth. Schoettgen has collected numerous illustrations in point, of which the following may serve as specimens.3 "When the first Adam had not sinned, he was every way an angel of the Lord, perfect and spotless, and it was decreed that he should live forever like one of the celestial ministers." "The soul cannot ascend into Paradise except it be first invested with a 1 Schoettgen, Dissertatio de Hierosolyma Coelesti, cap. iii. sect. 9. 2 Schoettgen, Hora Biblica et Talmudica, in Rom. v. 12, et in Johan. iii. 19. 3 Ibid. in 2 Cor. v. 2. clothing adapted to that world, as the present is for this world." These notions do not harmonize with the thought that man was originally destined for a physical eternity on this globe. All this difficulty disappears, we think, and the true metaphorical force often intended in the word "death" comes to view, through the following conception, occupying the minds of a portion of the Jewish Rabbins, as we are led to believe by the clews furnished in the close connection between the Pharisaic and the Zoroastrian eschatology, by similar hints in various parts of the New Testament, and by some quite explicit declarations in the Talmud itself, which we shall soon cite in a different connection. God at first intended that man should live for a time in pure blessedness on the earth, and then without pain should undergo a glorious change making him a perfect peer of the angels, and be translated to their lofty abode in his own presence; but, when he sinned, God gave him over to manifold suffering, and on the destruction of his body adjudged his naked soul to descend to a doleful imprisonment below the grave. The immortality meant for man was a timely ascent to heaven in a paradisal clothing, without dying. The doom brought on him by sin was the alteration of that desirable change of bodies and ascension to the supernal splendors, for a permanent disembodiment and a dreaded descent to the subterranean glooms. It is a Talmudical as much as it is a Pauline idea, that the triumphant power of the Messiah would restore what the unfortunate fall of Adam forfeited. Now, if we can show as we think we can, and as we shall try to do in a later part of this article that the later Jews expected the Messianic resurrection to be the prelude to an ascent into heaven, and not the beginning of a gross earthly immortality, it will powerfully confirm the theory which we have just indicated. "When," says one of the old Rabbins, "the dead in Israelitish earth are restored alive," their bodies will be "as the body of the first Adam before he sinned, and they shall all fly into the air like birds."4 At all events, whether the general Rabbinical belief was in the primitive destination of man to a heavenly or to an earthly immortality, whether the "death" decreed upon him in consequence of sin was the dissolution of the body or the wretchedness of the soul, they all agree that the banishment of souls into the realm of blackness under the grave was a part of the penalty of sin. Some of them maintained, as we think, that, had there been no sin, souls would have passed to heaven in glorified bodies; others of them maintained, as we think, that, had there been no sin, they would have lived eternally upon earth in their present bodies; but all of them agreed, it is undisputed, that in consequence of sin souls were condemned to the under world. No man would have seen the dismal realm of the sepulchre had there not been sin. The earliest Hebrew conception was that all souls went down to a common abode, to spend eternity in dark slumber or nerveless groping. This view was first modified soon after the Persian captivity, by the expectation that there would be discrimination at the resurrection which the Jews had learned to look for, when the just should rise but the wicked should be left. The next alteration of their notions on this subject was the subdivision of the underworld into Paradise and Gehenna, a conception known among them probably as early as a century before Christ, and very prominent with them in the apostolic age. "When Rabbi 4 Schoettgen, in 1 Cor. xv. 44. Jochanan was dying, his disciples asked him, 'Light of Israel, main pillar of the right, thou strong hammer, why dost thou weep?' He answered, 'Two paths open before me, the one leading to bliss, the other to torments; and I know not which of them will be my doom.'"5 "Paradise is separated from hell by a distance no greater than the width of a thread."6 So, in Christ's parable of Dives and Lazarus, Abraham's bosom and hell are two divisions. "There are three doors into Gehenna: one in the wilderness, where Korah and his company were swallowed; one in the sea, where Jonah descended when he 'cried out of the belly of hell;' one in Jerusalem, for the Lord says, 'My furnace is in Jerusalem.'"7 "The under world is divided into palaces, each of which is so large that it would take a man three hundred years to roam over it. There are distinct apartments where the hell punishments are inflicted. One place is so dark that its name is 'Night of Horrors."8 "In Paradise there are certain mansions for the pious from the Gentile peoples, and for those mundane kings who have done kindness to the Israelites."9 "The fire of Gehenna was kindled on the evening of the first Sabbath, and shall never be extinguished."10 The Egyptians, Persians, Hindus, and Greeks, with all of whom the Jews held relations of intercourse, had, in their popular representations of the under world of the dead, regions of peace and honor for the good, and regions of fire for the bad. The idea may have been adopted from them by the Jews, or it may have been at last developed among themselves, first by the imaginative poetical, afterwards by the literally believing, transference below of historical and local imagery and associations, such as those connected with the ingulfing of Sodom and Gomorrah in fire and sulphur, and with the loathed fires in the valley of Hinnom. Many of the Rabbins believed in the transmigration or revolution of souls, an immemorial doctrine of the Fast, and developed it into the most ludicrous and marvellous details.11 But, with the exception of those who adopted this Indian doctrine, the Rabbins supposed all departed souls to be in the under world, some in the division of Paradise, others in that of hell. Here they fancied these souls to be longingly awaiting the advent of the Messiah. "Messiah and the patriarchs weep together in Paradise over the delay of the time of the kingdom."12 In this quotation the Messiah is represented as being in the under world, for the Jews expected that he would be a man, very likely some one who had already lived. For a delegation was once sent to ask Jesus, "Art thou Elias? art thou the Messiah? art thou that prophet?" Light is thus thrown upon the Rabbinical saying that "it was doubted whether the Messiah would come from the living, or the dead."13 Borrowing some Persian modes of thinking, and adding them to their own inordinate national pride, the Rabbins soon began 5 Talmud, tract. Berachoth. 6 Eisenmenger, Entdecktes Judenthum, th. ii. cap. v. s. 315. 7 Lightfoot, in Matt. v. 22. 8 Schroder, Satzungen and Gebrauche des Talmudisch Rabbinischen Judenthums, s. 408. 9 Schoettgen, in Johan. xiv. 2. 10 Nov. Test. ex Talmude, etc. illustratum a J. G. Menschen, p. 125. 11 Basnage, Hist. of Jews, lib. iv. cap. 30. Also, Traditions of the Rabbins, in Blackwood for April, 1833. 12 Eisenmenger, th. ii. s. 304. 13 Lightfoot, in Matt. ii. 16. to fancy that the observance or non observance of the Pharisaic ritual, and kindred particulars, must exert a great effect in determining the destination of souls and their condition in the under world. Observe the following quotations from the Talmud. "Abraham sits at the gate of hell to see that no Israelite enters." "Circumcision is so agreeable to God, that he swore to Abraham that no one who was circumcised should descend into hell."14 "What does Abraham to those circumcised who have sinned too much? He takes the foreskins from Gentile boys who died without circumcision, and places them on those Jews who were circumcised but have become godless, and then kicks them into hell."15 Hell here denotes that division in the under world where the condemned are punished. The younger Buxtorf, in a preface to his father's "Synagoga Judaica," gives numerous specimens of Jewish representations of "the efficacy of circumcision being so great that no one who has undergone it shall go down into hell." Children can help their deceased parents out of hell by their good deeds, prayers, and offerings.16 "Beyond all doubt," says Gfrorer, "the ancient Jewish synagogue inculcated the doctrine of supererogatory good works, the merit of which went to benefit the departed souls."17 Here all souls were, in the under world, either in that part of it called Paradise, or in that named Gehenna, according to certain conditions. But in whichever place they were, and under whatever circumstances, they were all tarrying in expectation of the advent of the Messiah. How deeply rooted, how eagerly cherished, the Jewish belief in the approaching appearance of the Messiah was, and what a splendid group of ideas and imaginations they clustered around his reign, are well known facts. He was to be a descendant of royal David, an inspired prophet, priest, and king, was to subdue the whole earth beneath his Jewish sceptre and establish from Jerusalem a theocratic empire of unexampled glory, holiness, and delight. In so much the consent was general and earnest; though in regard to many further details there would seem to have been an incongruous diversity of opinions. They supposed the coming of the Messiah would be preceded by ten frightful woes,18 also by the appearance of the prophet Elias as a forerunner.19 There are a few passages in the Rabbinical writings which, unless they were forged and interpolated by Christians at a late period, show that there were in the Jewish mind anticipations of the personal descent of the Messiah into the under world.20 "After this the Messiah, the son of David, came to the gates of the underworld. But when the bound, who are in Gehenna, saw the light of the Messiah, they began rejoicing to receive him, saying, 'He shall lead us up from this darkness.'" "The captives shall 14 Schroder, s. 332. 15 Eisenmenger, th. ii. kap. vi. s. 340. 16 Ibid. s. 358. 17 Geschichte des Urchristenthums, zweit. abth. s. 186. Maimonides also asserts the doctrine of supererogatory works: see p. 237 of H. H. Bernard's Selections from the Yad Hachazakah of Maimonides. 18 Surenhusius, Mischna, pars tertia, p. 308. 19 Lightfoot, in Matt. xvii. 10. 20 For a general view of the Jewish eschatology, see Gfrorer, Geschichte des Urchristenthums, kap. x.; Eisenmenger, Entdecktes Judenthum, th. ii. kap. xv. xvii. ascend from the under world, Schechinah at their head."21 Gfrorer derives the origin of the doctrine that Christ rescued souls out of the under world, from a Jewish notion, preserved in the Talmud,22 that the just patriarchs sometimes did it.23 Bertholdt adduces Talmudical declarations to show that through the Messiah "God would hereafter liberate the Israelites from the under world, on account of the merit of circumcision"24 Schoettgen quotes this statement from the Sohar: "Messia shall die, and shall remain in the state of death a time, and shall rise."25 The so called Fourth Book of Ezra says, in the seventh chapter, "My son, the Christ, shall die: then follow the resurrection and the judgment." Although it is clear, from various other sources, as well as from the account in John xii. 34, that there was a prevalent expectation among the Jews that "the Messiah would abide forever," it also seems quite certain that there were at the same time at least obscure presentiments, based on prophecies and traditions, that he must die, that an important part of his mission was connected with his death. This appears from such passages as we have cited above, found in early Rabbinical writers, who would certainly be very unlikely to borrow and adapt a new idea of such a character from the Christians; and from the manner in which Jesus assumes his death to be a part of the Messianic fate and interprets the Scriptures as necessarily pointing to that effect. He charges his disciples with being "fools and blind" in not so understanding the doctrine; thus seeming to imply that it was plainly known to some. But this question the origin of the idea of a suffering, atoning, dying Messiah is confessedly a very nice and obscure one. The evidence, the silence, the inferences, the presumptions and doubts on the subject are such, that some of the most thorough and impartial students say they are unable to decide either way. However the foregoing question be decided, it is admitted by all that the Jews earnestly looked for a resurrection of the dead as an accompaniment of the Messiah's coming. Whether Christ was to go down into the under world, or to sit enthroned on Mount Zion, in either case the dead should come up and live again on earth at the blast of his summoning trumpet. Rabbi Jeremiah commanded, "When you bury me, put shoes on my feet, and give me a staff in my hand, and lay me on one side, that when the Messiah comes I may be ready."26 Most of the Rabbins made this resurrection partial. "Whoever denies the resurrection of the dead shall have no part in it, for the very reason that he denies it."27 "Rabbi Abbu says, "A day of rain is greater than the resurrection of the dead; because the rain is for all, while the resurrection is only for the just."28 "Sodom and Gomorrah shall not rise in the resurrection of the dead."29 Rabbi Chebbo says, "The patriarchs so vehemently desired to be buried in 21 Schoettgen, De Messia, lib. vi. cap. v. sect. 1. 22 Eisenmenger, th. ii. ss. 343, 364. 23 Geschichte Urchrist. kap. viii. s. 184. 24 Christologia Judaorum Jesu Apostolorumque Atate, sect. 34, (De Descensu Messia ad Inferos.) 25 De Messia, lib. vi. cap. v. sect. 2. 26 Lightfoot, in Matt. xxvii. 52. 27 Witsius, Dissertatio de Seculo, etc. sect. 9. 28 Nov. Test. Illustratum, etc. a Meuschen, p. 62. 29 Schoettgen, in Johan. vi. 39. the land of Israel, because those who are dead in that land shall be the first to revive and shall devour his years, [the years of the Messiah.] But for those just who are interred beyond the holy land, it is to be understood that God will make a passage in the earth, through which they will be rolled until they reach the land of Israel."30 Rabbi Jochanan says, "Moses died out of the holy land, in order to show that in the same way that God will raise up Moses, so he will raise all those who observe his law." The national bigotry of the Jews reaches a pitch of extravagance in some of their views that is amusing. For instance, they declare that "one Israelitish soul is dearer and more important to God than all the souls of a whole nation of the Gentiles!" Again, they say, "When God judges the Israelites, he will stand, and make the judgment brief and mild; when he judges the Gentiles, he will sit, and make it long and severe!" They affirm that the resurrection will be effected by means of a dew; and they quote to that effect this verse from Canticles: "I sleep, but my heart waketh; my head is filled with dew, and my locks with drops of the night." Some assert that "the resurrection will be immediately caused by God, who never gives to any one the three keys of birth, rain, and the resurrection of the dead." Others say that the power to raise and judge the dead will be delegated to the Messiah, and even go so far as to assert that the trumpet whose formidable blasts will then shake the universe is to be one of the horns of that ram which Abraham offered up instead of his son Isaac! Some confine the resurrection to faithful Jews, some extend it to the whole Jewish nation, some think all the righteous of the earth will have part in it, and some stretch its pale around all mankind alike.31 They seem to agree that the reprobate would either be left in the wretched regions of Sheol when the just arose, or else be thrust back after the judgment, to remain there forever. It was believed that the righteous after their resurrection would never die again, but ascend to heaven. The Jews after a time, when the increase of geographical knowledge had annihilated from the earth their old Eden whence the sinful Adam was expelled, changed its location into the sky. Thither, as the later fables ran, Elijah was borne in his chariot of fire by the horses thereof. Rabbi Pinchas says, "Carefulness leads us to innocence, innocence to purity, purity to sanctity, sanctity to humility, humility to fear of sins, fear of sins to piety, piety to the holy spirit, the holy spirit to the resurrection of the dead, the resurrection of the dead to the prophet Elias."32 The writings of the early Christian Fathers contain many allusions to this blessed habitation of saints above the clouds. It is illustrated in the following quaint Rabbinical narrative. Rabbi Jehosha ben Levi once besought the angel of death to take him up, ere he died, to catch a glimpse of Paradise. Standing on the wall, he suddenly snatched the angel's sword and sprang over, swearing by Almighty God that he would not come out. Death was not allowed to enter Paradise, and the son of Levi did not restore his sword until he had promised to be more gentle towards the dying.33 The righteous were never to return to the dust, but "at the end 30 Schoettgen, De Messia, lib. vi. cap. vi. sect. 27. 31 See an able dissertation on Jewish Notions of the Resurrection of the Dead, prefixed to Humphrey's Translation of Athenagoras on the Resurrection. 32 Surenhusius, Mischna, pars tertia, p. 309. 33 Schroder, s. 419. of the thousand years," the duration of the Messiah's earthly reign, "when the Lord is lifted up, God shall fit wings to the just, like the wings of eagles."34 In a word, the Messiah and his redeemed ones would ascend into heaven to the right hand of God. So Paul, who said, "I am a Pharisee, the son of a Pharisee," declares that when the dead have risen "we shall be caught up in the clouds to be forever with the Lord." We forbear to notice a thousand curious details of speculation and fancy in which individual Rabbins indulged; for instance, their common notion concerning the bone luz, the single bone which, withstanding dissolution, shall form the nucleus of the resurrection body. It was a prevalent belief with them that the resurrection would take place in the valley of Jehoshaphat, in proof of which they quote this text from Joel: "Let the heathen be wakened and come up to the valley of Jehoshaphat; for there will I sit to judge the nations around." To this day, wherever scattered abroad, faithful Jews cling to the expectation of the Messiah's coming, and associate with his day the resurrection of the dead.35 The statement in the Song of Solomon, "The king is held in the galleries," means, says a Rabbinical book, "that the Messiah is detained in Paradise, fettered by a woman's hair!" Every day, throughout the world, every consistent Israelite repeats the words of Moses Maimonides, the peerless Rabbi, of whom it is a proverb that "from Moses to Moses there arose not a Moses:" "I believe with a perfect faith that the Messiah will come, and though he delays, nevertheless, I will always expect him till he come." Then shall glory cover the living, and the risen, children of Israel, and confusion fall on their Gentile foes. In almost every inch of the beautiful valley of Jehoshaphat a Jew has been buried. All over the slopes of the hill sides around lie the thick clustering sepulchral slabs, showing how eagerly the chosen people seek to sleep in the very spot where the first rising of the dead shall be. Entranced and mute, "In old Jehoshaphat's valley, they Of Israel think the assembled world Will stand upon that awful day, When the Ark's light, aloft unfurl'd, Among the opening clouds shall shine, Divinity's own radiant shrine." Any one familiar with the Persian theology36 will at once notice a striking resemblance between many of its dogmas and those, first, of Pharisaism, secondly, of the popular Christianity. Some examination of this subject properly belongs here. There is, then, as is well known, a circle or group of ideas, particularly pertaining to eschatology, which appear in the later Jewish writings, and remarkably correspond to those held by the Parsees, the followers of Zoroaster. The same notions also reappear in the early Christianity as popularly understood. We will specify some of these correspondences. The doctrine of angels, received by the Jews, their names, offices, rank, and destiny, was borrowed and formed 34 Schoettgen, de Messia, lib. vi. cap. vi. sect. 23; cap. vii. ss. 3, 4. 35 John Allen, Modern Judaism, ch. vi. and xv. 36 See Abriss der Religion Zoroasters nach den Zendbuchern, von Abbe Foucher, in Kleuker's Zend Avesta, band i. zweit anhang, ss. 328-342. by them during and just after the Babylonish captivity, and is much like that which they found among their enslavers.37 The guardian angels appointed over nations, spoken of by Daniel, are Persian. The angels called in the Apocalypse "the seven spirits of God sent forth into all the earth," in Zechariah "the seven eyes of God which run to and fro through all the earth," are the Amschaspands of the Persian faith. The wars of the angels are described as minutely by the old Persians as by Milton. The Zend Avesta pictures Ahriman pregnant with Death, (die alte hollenschlange, todschwangere Ahriman,) as Milton describes the womb of Sin bearing that fatal monster. The Gahs, or second order of angels, the Persians supposed,38 were employed in preparing clothing and laying it up in heaven to clothe the righteous after the resurrection, a fancy frequent among the Rabbins and repeatedly alluded to in the New Testament. With both the Persians and the Jews, all our race both sexes sprang from one original man. With both, the first pair were seduced and ruined by means of fruit which the devil gave to them. With both, there was a belief in demoniacal possessions, devils or bad spirits entering human bodies. With both, there was the expectation of a great Deliverer, the Persian Sosiosch, the Jewish Messiah, whose coming would be preceded by fearful woes, who would triumph over all evil, raise the dead, judge the world, separate the righteous and the wicked, purge the earth with fire, and install a reign of glorious blessedness.39 "The conception of an under world," says Dr. Roth, "was known centuries before Zoroaster; but probably he was the first to add to the old belief the idea that the under world was a place of purification, wherein souls were purged from all traces of sin."40 Of this belief in a subterranean purgatory there are numerous unmistakable evidences and examples in the Rabbinical writings.41 These notions and others the Pharisees early adopted, and wrought into the texture of what they called the "Oral Law," that body of verbally transmitted legends, precepts, and dogmas, afterwards written out and collected in the Mischna, to which Christ repeatedly alluded with such severity, saying, "Ye by your traditions make the commandments of God of none effect." To some doctrines of kindred character and origin with these Paul refers when he warns his readers against "the worshipping of angels," "endless genealogies," "philosophy falsely so called," and various besetting heresies of the time. But others were so woven and assimilated into the substance of the popular Judaism of the age, as inculcated by the Rabbins, that Paul himself held them, the lingering vestiges of his earnest Pharisaic education and organized experience. They naturally found their way into the Apostolic Church, principally composed of Ebionites, Christians who had been Jews; and from it they were never separated, but have come to us in seeming orthodox garb, and are generally 37 Schroder, p. 385. 38 Yacna, Ha 411. Kleuker, zweit. auf. s. 198. 39 Die Heiligen Schriften der Parsen, von Dr. F. Spiegel, kap. ii. ss. 32-37. Studien and Kritiken, 1885, band i., "Ist die Lehre von der Anferstehung des Leibes nicht ein alt Persische Lehre?" F. Nork, Mythen der Alten Perser als Quellen Christlicher Glaubenslehren und Ritualien. 40 Die Zoroastrischen Glaubenslehre, von Dr. Eduard Roth. s. 450. 41 See, In tom. i. Kabbala Denudata, Synopsis Dogmatum Libri Sohar pp. 108, 109, 113. retained now. Still, they were errors. They are incredible to the thinking minds of to day. It is best to get rid of them by the truth, that they are pagan growths introduced into Christianity, but to be discriminated from it. By removing these antiquated and incredible excrescences from the real religion of Christ, we shall save the essential faith from the suspicion which their association with it, their fancied identity with it, invites and provokes. The correspondences between the Persian and the Pharisaic faith, in regard to doctrines, are of too arbitrary and peculiar a character to allow us for a moment to suppose them to have been an independent product spontaneously developed in the two nations; though even in that case the doctrines in question have no sanction of authority, not being Mosaic nor Prophetic, but only Rabbinical. One must have received from the other. Which was the bestower and which the recipient is quite plain.42 There is not a whit of evidence to show, but, on the contrary, ample presumption to disprove, that a certain cycle of notions were known among the Jews previous to a period of most intimate and constant intercourse between them and the Persians. But before that period those notions were an integral part of the Persian theology. Even Prideaux admits that the first Zoroaster lived and Magianism flourished at least a thousand years before Christ. And the dogmas we refer to are fundamental features of the religion. These dogmas of the Persians, not derived from the Old Testament nor known among the Jews before the captivity, soon after that time began to show themselves in their literature, and before the opening of the New Testament were prominent elements of the Pharisaic belief. The inference is unavoidable that the confluence of Persian thought and feeling with Hebrew thought and feeling, joined with the materials and flowing in the channels of the subsequent experience of the Jews, formed a mingled deposit about the age of Christ, which deposit was Pharisaism. Again: the doctrines common to Zoroastrianism and Pharisaism in the former seem to be prime sources, in the latter to be late products. In the former, they compose an organic, complete, inseparable system; in the latter, they are disconnected, mixed piecemeal, and, to a considerable extent, historically traceable to an origin beyond the native, national mind. It is a significant fact that the abnormal symbolic beasts described by several of the Jewish prophets, and in the Apocalypse, were borrowed from Persian art. Sculptures representing these have been brought to light by the recent researches at Persepolis. Finally, all early ecclesiastical history incontestably shows that Persian dogmas exerted on the Christianity of the first centuries an enormous influence, a pervasive and perverting power unspent yet, and which it is one of the highest tasks of honest and laborious Christian students in the present day to explain, define, and separate. What was that Manichaanism which nearly filled Christendom for a hundred years, what was it, in great part, but an influx of tradition, speculation, imagination, and sentiment, from Persia? The Gnostic Christians even had a scripture called "Zoroaster's Apocalypse."43 "The wise men from the east," who knelt before the infant Christ, "and opened their treasures, and gave him gifts, gold, frankincense, and myrrh," were Persian Magi. We may imaginatively regard that sacred scene as an emblematical figure of the far different tributes which 42 Lucke, Einleitung in die Offenbarung des Johannes, kap. 2, sect. 8. 43 Kleuker, Zend Avesta, band ii. anhang i. s. 12. a little later came from their country to his religion, the unfortunate contributions that permeated and corrupted so much of the form in which it thenceforth appeared and spread. In the pure gospel's pristine day, ere it had hardened into theological dogmas or become encumbered with speculations and comments, from the lips of God's Anointed Son repeatedly fell the earnest warning, "Beware of the leaven of the Pharisees." There is far more need to have this warning intelligently heeded now, coming with redoubled emphasis from the Master's own mouth, "Beware of the leaven of the Pharisees." For, as the gospel is now generally set forth and received, that leaven has leavened well nigh the whole lump of it. CHAPTER X. GREEK AND ROMAN DOCTRINE OF A FUTURE LIFE. THE disembodied soul, as conceived by the Greeks, and after them by the Romans, is material, but of so thin a contexture that it cannot be felt with the hands. It is exhaled with the dying breath, or issues through a warrior's wounds. The sword passes through its uninjured form as through the air. It is to the body what a dream is to waking action. Retaining the shape, lineaments, and motion the man had in life, it is immediately recognised upon appearing. It quits the body with much reluctance, leaving that warm and vigorous investiture for a chill and forceless existence. It glides along without noise and very swiftly, like a shadow. It is unable to enter the lower kingdom and be at peace until its deserted body has been buried with sacred rites: meanwhile, naked and sad, it flits restlessly about the gates, uttering doleful moans. The early Greek authors describe the creation as a stupendous hollow globe cut in the centre by the plane of the earth. The upper hemisphere is lighted by beneficent luminaries; the lower hemisphere is filled with unvarying blackness. The top of the higher sphere is Heaven, the bright dwelling of the Olympian gods; its bottom is the surface of the earth, the home of living men. The top of the lower sphere is Hades, the abode of the ghosts of the dead; its bottom is Tartarus, the prison of the Titans, rebellious giants vanquished by Zeus. Earth lies half way from the cope of Heaven to the floor of Tartarus. This distance is so great that, according to Hesiod, it would take an anvil nine days to fall from the centre to the nadir. Some of the ancients seem to have surmised the sphericity of the earth, and to have thought that Hades was simply its dark side, the dead being our antipodes. In the Odyssey, Ulysses reaches Hades by sailing across the ocean stream and passing the eternal night land of the Cimmerians, whereupon he comes to the edge of Acheron, the moat of Pluto's sombre house. Virgil also says, "One pole of the earth to us always points aloft; but the other is seen by black Styx and the infernal ghosts, where either dead night forever reigns or else Aurora returns thither from us and brings them back the day."1 But the prevalent notion evidently was that Hades was an immense hollow region not far under the surface of the ground, and that it was to be reached by descent through some cavern, like that at Avernus. This subterranean place is the destination of all alike, rapacious Orcus sparing no one, good or bad. It is wrapped in obscurity, as the etymology of its name implies, a place where one cannot see. "No sun e'er gilds the gloomy horrors there; No cheerful gales refresh the stagnant air." The dead are disconsolate in this dismal realm, and the living shrink from entering it, except as a refuge from intolerable afflictions. The shade of the princeliest hero dwelling there the 1 Georg. lib. i. II. 242-250. swift footed Achilles says, "I would wish, being on earth, to serve for hire another man of poor estate, rather than rule over all the dead." Souls carry there their physical peculiarities, the fresh and ghastly likenesses of the wounds which have despatched them thither, so that they are known at sight. Companies of fellow countrymen, knots of friends, are together there, preserving their remembrance ofearthly fortunes and beloved relatives left behind, and eagerly questioning each newly arriving soul for tidings from above. When the soul of Achilles is told of the glorious deeds of Neoptolemus, "he goes away taking mighty steps through the meadow of asphodel in joyfulness, because he had heard that his son was very illustrious."2 Sophocles makes the dying Antigone say, "Departing, I strongly cherish the hope that I shall be fondly welcomed by my father, and by my mother, and by my brother."3 It is important to notice that, according to the early and popular view, this Hades, the "dark dwelling of the joyless images of deceased mortals," is the destination of universal humanity. In opposition to its dolorous gloom and repulsive inanity are vividly pictured the glad light of day, the glory and happiness of life. "Not worth so much to me as my life," says the incomparable son of Peleus, "are all the treasures which populous Troy possessed, nor all which the stony threshold of Phoebus Apollo contains in rocky Pytho. Oxen, and fat sheep, and trophies, and horses with golden manes, may be acquired by effort; but the breath of man to return again is not to be obtained by plunder nor by purchase, when once it has passed the barrier of his teeth." It is not probable that all the ornamental details associated by the poets with the fate and state of the dead as they are set forth, for instance, by Virgil in the sixth book of the Aneid were ever credited as literal truth. But there is no reason to doubt that the essential features of this mythological scenery were accepted in the vulgar belief. For instance, that the popular mind honestly held that, in some vague sense or other, the ghost, on leaving the body, flitted down to the dull banks of Acheron and offered a shadowy obolus to Charon, the slovenly old ferryman, for a passage in his boat, seems attested not only by a thousand averments to that effect in the current literature of the time, but also by the invariable custom of placing an obolus in the dead man's mouth for that purpose when he was buried. The Greeks did not view the banishment of souls in Hades as a punishment for sin, or the result of any broken law in the plan of things. It was to them merely the fulfilment of the inevitable fate of creatures who must die, in the order of nature, like successive growths of flowers, and whose souls were too feeble to rank with gods and climb into Olympus. That man should cease from his substantial life on the bright earth and subside into sunless Hades, a vapid form, with nerveless limbs and faint voice, a ghostly vision bemoaning his existence with idle lamentation, or busying himself with the misty mockeries of his former pursuits, was melancholy enough; but it was his natural destiny, and not an avenging judgment. But that powerful instinct in man which desires to see villany punished and goodness rewarded could not fail, among so cultivated a people as the Greeks, to develop a doctrine of future compensation for the contrasted deserts of souls. The earliest trace of the idea of 2 Odyssey, lib. xi. II. 538, 539. 3 Antigone, II. 872-874. retribution which we find carried forward into the invisible world is the punishment of the Titans, those monsters who tried by piling up mountains to storm the heavenly abodes, and to wrest the Thunderer's bolts from his hand. This germ is slowly expanded; and next we read of a few specified criminals, who had been excessively impious, personally offending Zeus, condemned by his direct indignation to a severe expiation in Tartarus. The insulted deity wreaks his vengeance on the tired Sisyphus, the mocked Tantalus, the gnawed Tityus, and others. Afterwards we meet the statement that condign retribution is always inflicted for the two flagrant sins of perjury and blasphemy. Finally, we discern a general prevalence of the belief that punishment is decreed, not by vindictive caprice, but on the grounds of universal morality, all souls being obliged in Hades to pass before Rhadamanthus, Minos, or Aacus, three upright judges, to be dealt with, according to their merits, with impartial accuracy. The distribution of poetic justice in Hades at last became, in many authors, so melodramatic as to furnish a fair subject for burlesque. Some ludicrous examples of this may be seen in Lucian's Dialogues of the Dead. A fine instance of it is also furnished in the Emperor Julian's Symposium. The gods prepare for the Roman emperors a banquet, in the air, below the moon. The good emperors are admitted to the table with honors; but the bad ones are hurled headlong down into Tartarus, amidst the derisive shouts of the spectators. As the notion that the wrath of the gods would pursue their enemies in the future state gave rise to a belief in the punishments of Tartarus, so the notion that the distinguishing kindness of the gods would follow their favorites gave rise to the myth of Elysium. The Elysian Fields were earliest portrayed lying on the western margin of the earth, stretching from the verge of Oceanus, where the sun set at eve. They were fringed with perpetual green, perfumed with the fragrance of flowers, and eternally fanned by refreshing breezes. They were represented merely as the select abode of a small number of living men, who were either the mortal relatives or the special favorites of the gods, and who were transported thither without tasting death, there to pass an immortality which was described, with great inconsistency, sometimes as purely happy, sometimes as joyless and wearisome. To all except a few chosen ones this region was utterly inaccessible. Homer says, "But for you, O Menelaus, it is not decreed by the gods to die; but the immortals will send you to the Elysian plain, because you are the son in law of Zeus."4 Had the inheritance of this clime been proclaimed as the reward of heroic merit, had it been really believed attainable by virtue, it would have been held up as a prize to be striven for. The whole account, as it was at first, bears the impress of imaginative fiction as legibly upon its front as the story of the dragon watched garden of Hesperus's daughters, whose trees bore golden apples, or the story of the enchanted isle in the Arabian tales. The early location of Elysium, and the conditions of admission to it, were gradually changed; and at length it reappeared, in the under world, as the abode of the just. On one side of the primitive Hades Tartarus had now been drawn up to admit the condemned into its penal tortures, and on the other side Elysium was lowered down to reward the justified by receiving them into its peaceful and perennial happiness; while, between the two, Erebus 4 Odyssey, lib. iv. II. 555-570. remained as an intermediate state of negation and gloom for unsentenced shades. The highly colored descriptions of this subterranean heaven, frequently found thenceforth, it is to be supposed were rarely accepted as solid verities. They were scarcely ever used, to our knowledge, as motives in life, incitement in difficulties, consolation in sorrow. They were mostly set forth in poems, works even professedly fictitious. They were often denied and ridiculed in speeches and writings received with public applause. Still, they unquestionably exerted some influence on the common modes of thought and feeling, had a shadowy seat in the popular imagination and heart, helped men to conceive of a blessed life hereafter and to long for it, and took away something of the artificial horror with which, under the power of rooted superstition, their departing ghosts hailed the dusky limits of futurity: "Umbra Non tacitas Erebi sedes, Ditisque profundi Pallida regna petunt." First, then, from a study of the Greek mythology we find all the dead a dull populace of ghosts fluttering through the neutral melancholy of Hades without discrimination. And finally we discern in the world of the dead a sad middle region, with a Paradise on the right and a Hell on the left, the whole presided over by three incorruptible judges, who appoint the new corners their places in accordance with their deserts. The question now arises, What did the Greeks think in relation to the ascent of human souls into heaven among the gods? Did they except none from the remediless doom of Hades? Was there no path for the wisest and best souls to climb starry Olympus? To dispose of this inquiry fairly, four distinct considerations must be examined. First, Ulysses sees in the infernal regions the image of Herakles shooting the shadows of the Stymphalian birds, while his soul is said to be rejoicing with fair legged Hebe at the banquets of the immortal gods in the skies. To explain this, we must remember that Herakles was the son of Alcmene, a mortal woman, and of Zeus, the king of the gods. Accordingly, in the flames on Mount Oeta, the surviving ghost which he derived from his mother descends to Hades, but the purified soul inherited from his father has the proper nature and rank of a deity, and is received into the Olympian synod.5 Of course no blessed life in heaven for the generality of men is here implied. Herakles, being a son and favorite of Zeus, has a corresponding destiny exceptional from that of other men. Secondly, another double representation, somewhat similar, but having an entirely different interpretation, occurs in the case of Orion, the handsome Hyrian hunter whom Artemis loved. At one time he is described, like the spectre of the North American Indian, chasing over the Stygian plain the disembodied animals he had in his lifetime killed on the mountains: "Swift through the gloom a giant hunter flies: A ponderous brazen mace, with direful sway, Aloft he whirls to crush the savage prey; 5 Ovid, Met. lib. ix. II. 245-272. Grim beasts in trains, that by his truncheon fell, Now, phantom forms, shoot o'er the lawn of hell." In the common belief this, without doubt, was received as actual fact. But at another time Orion is deified and shown as one of the grandest constellations of the sky, "A belted giant, who, with arm uplift, Threatening the throne of Zeus, forever stands, Sublimely impious." This, obviously, is merely a poetic symbol, a beautiful artifice employed by the poets to perpetuate a legend by associating it with the imperishable hieroglyphs of the galaxy. It is not credible that men imagined that group of stars only outlined in such shape by the help of arbitrary fancy to be literally the translated hunter himself. The meaning simply was that he was immortalized through the eternal linking of his name and form with a stellar cluster which would always shine upon men. "The reverence and gratitude of a weak world for the heroes and benefactors they could not comprehend, named them divinities, whom they did star together to an idolatrous immortality which nationalized the heavens" with the shining shapes of the great and brave. These types of poetry, symbols lent to infant science, were never meant to indicate a literal translation and metamorphosis of human souls, but were honors paid to the memories of illustrious men, emblems and pledged securities of their unfading fame. With what glorious characters, with what forms of deathless beauty, defiant of decay, the sky was written over! Go out this evening beneath the old rolling dome, when the starry scroll is outspread, and you may still read the reveries of the marvelling minds of the antique world, as fresh in their magic loveliness as when the bards and seers of Olympus and the Agean first stamped them in heaven. There "the great snake binds in his bright coil half the mighty host." There is Arion with his harp and the charmed dolphin. The fair Andromeda, still chained to her eternal rock, looks mournfully towards the delivering hero whose conquering hand bears aloft the petrific visage of Medusa. Far off in the north the gigantic Bootes is seen driving towards the Centaur and the Scorpion. And yonder, smiling benignantly upon the crews of many a home bound ship, are revealed the twin brothers, joined in the embrace of an undying friendship. Thirdly, it is asserted by several Latin authors, in general terms, that the ghost goes to Hades but the soul ascends to heaven; and it has been inferred most erroneously that this statement contains the doctrine of an abode for men after death on high with the gods. Ovid expresses the real thought in full, thus: "Terra tegit carnem; tumulum circumvolat umbra; Orcus habet manes; spiritus astra petit." "The earth conceals the flesh; the shade flits round the tomb; the under world receives the image; the spirit seeks the stars." Those conversant with the opinions then prevalent will scarcely doubt that these words were meant to express the return of the composite man to the primordial elements of which he was made. The particulars of the dissolving individual are absorbed in the general elements of the universe. Earth goes back to earth, ghost to the realm of ghosts, breath to the air, fiery essence of soul to the lofty ether in whose pure radiance the stars burn. Euripides expressly says that when man dies each part goes whence it came, "the body to the ground, the spirit to the ether."6 Therefore the often misunderstood phrase of the Roman writers, "the soul seeks the stars," merely denotes the impersonal mingling after death of the divine portion of man's being with the parent Divinity, who was supposed indeed to pervade all things, but more especially to reside beyond the empyrean. Fourthly: what shall be said of the apotheosis of their celebrated heroes and emperors by the Greeks and Romans, whereby these were elevated to the dignity of deities, and seats were assigned them in heaven? What was the meaning of this ceremony? It does not signify that a celestial immortality awaits all good men; because it appears as a thing attainable by very few, is only allotted by vote of the Senate. Neither was it supposed actually to confer on its recipients equality of attributes with the great gods, making them peers of Zeus and Apollo. The homage received as gods by Alexander and others during their lives, the deification of Julius Casar during the most learned and skeptical age of Rome, with other obvious considerations, render such a supposition inadmissible. In view of all the direct evidence and collateral probabilities, we conclude that the genuine import of an ancient apotheosis was this: that the soul of the deceased person so honored was admitted, in deference to his transcendent merits, or as a special favor on the part of the gods, into heaven, into the divine society. He was really a human soul still, but was called a god because, instead of descending, like the multitude of human souls, to Hades, he was taken into the abode and company of the gods above the sky. This interpretation derives support from the remarkable declaration of Aristotle, that "of two friends one must be unwilling that the other should attain apotheosis, because in such case they must be forever separated."7 One would be in Olympus, the other in Hades. The belief that any, even a favored few, could ever obtain this blessing, was of quite limited development, and probably sprang from the esoteric recesses of the Mysteries. To call a human soul a god is not so bold a speech as it may seem. Plotinus says. "Whoever has wisdom and true virtue in soul itself differs but little from superior beings, in this alone being inferior to them, that he is in body. Such an one, dying, may therefore properly say, with Empedocles, 'Farewell! a god immortal now am I.'" The expiring Vespasian exclaimed, "I shall soon be a god."8 Mure says that the doctrine of apotheosis belonged to the Graco Pelasgic race through all their history.9 Seneca severely satirizes the ceremony, and the popular belief which upheld it, in an elaborate lampoon called Apocolocyntosis, or the reception of Claudius among the pumpkins. The broad travesty of 6 The Suppliants, l. 533. 7 Nicomachean Ethics, lib. viii. cap. 7. 8 Suetonius, cap. xxiii. 9 Hist. Greek Literature, vol. i. ch. 2, sect. 5. Deification exhibited in Pumpkinification obviously measures the distance from the honest credulity of one class and period to the keen infidelity of another. One of the most important passages in Greek literature, in whatever aspect viewed, is composed of the writings of the great Theban lyrist. Let us see what representation is there made of the fate of man in the unseen world. The ethical perception, profound feeling, and searching mind of Pindar could not allow him to remain satisfied with the undiscriminating views of the future state prevalent in his time. Upon such a man the problem of death must weigh as a conscious burden, and his reflections would naturally lead him to improved conclusions. Accordingly, we find him representing the Blessed Isles not as the haven of a few favorites of the gods, but as the reward of virtue; and the punishments of the wicked, too, are not dependent on fickle inclinations, but are decreed by immutable right. He does not describe the common multitude of the dead, leading a dark sad existence, like phantoms in a dream: his references to death and Hades seem cheerful in comparison with those of many other ancient Greek authors. Dionysius the Rhetorician, speaking of his Threnes, dirges sung at funerals, says, "Simonides lamented the dead pathetically, Pindar magnificently." His conceptions of the life to come were inseparably connected with certain definite locations. He believed Hades to be the destination of all our mortal race, but conceived it subdivided into a Tartarus for the impious and an Elysium for the righteous. He thought that the starry firmament was the solid floor of a world of splendor, bliss, and immortality, inhabited by the gods, but fatally inaccessible to man. When he thinks of this place, it is with a sigh, a sigh that man's aspirations towards it are vain and his attempts to reach it irreverent. This latter thought he enforces by an earnest allusion to the myth of Bellerophon, who, daring to soar to the cerulean seat of the gods on the winged steed Pegasus, was punished for his arrogance by being hurled down headlong. These assertions are to be sustained by citations of his own words. The references made are to Donaldson's edition. In the second Pythian Ode10 Pindar repeats, and would appear to endorse, the old monitory legend of Ixion, who for his outrageous crimes was bound to an ever revolving wheel in Hades and made to utter warnings against such offences as his own. In the first Pythian we read, "Hundred headed Typhon, enemy of the gods, lies in dreadful Tartarus."11 Among the preserved fragments of Pindar the one numbered two hundred and twenty three reads thus: "The bottom of Tartarus shall press thee down with solid necessities." The following is from the first Isthmian Ode: "He who, laying up private wealth, laughs at the poor, does not consider that he shall close up his life for Hades without honor."12 The latter part of the tenth Nemean Ode recounts, with every appearance of devout belief, the history of Castor and Pollux, the god begotten twins, who, reversing conditions with each other on successive days and nights, spent their interchangeable immortality each alternately in heaven and in Hades. The astronomical interpretation of this account may be correct; but its applicability to the wondering faith of the earlier poets is extremely doubtful. 10 L. 39. 11 LI. 15, 16. 12 L. 68. The seventh Isthmian contains this remarkable sentence: "Unequal is the fate of man: he can think of great things, but is too ephemeral a creature to reach the brazen floored seat of the gods."13 A similar sentiment is expressed in the sixth Nemean: "Men are a mere nothing; while to the gods the brazen heaven remains a firm abode forever."14 The one hundred and second fragment is supposed to be a part of the dirge composed by Pindar on the death of the grandfather of Pericles. It runs in this way: "Whoso by good fortune has seen the things in the hollow under the earth knows indeed the end of life: he also knows the beginning vouchsafed by Zeus." It refers to initiation in the Eleusinian Mysteries, and means that the initiate understands the life which follows death. It is well known that a clear doctrine of future retribution was inculcated in the Mysteries long before it found general publication. The ninety fifth fragment is all that remains to us of a dirge which appears, from the allusion in the first line, to have been sung at a funeral service performed at midnight, or at least after sunset. "While it is night here with us, to those below shines the might of the sun; and the red rosied meadows of their suburbs are filled with the frankincense tree, and with golden fruits. Some delight themselves there with steeds and exercises, others with games, others with lyres; and among them all fair blossoming fortune blooms, and a fragrance is distilled through the lovely region, and they constantly mingle all kinds of offerings with the far shining fire on the altars of the gods." This evidently is a picture of the happy scenes in the fields that stretch around the City of the Blessed in the under world, and is introduced as a comfort to the mourners over the dead body. The ensuing passage the most important one on our subject is from the second Olympic Ode.15 "An honorable, virtuous man may rest assured as to his future fate. The souls of the lawless, departing from this life, suffer punishment. One beneath the earth, pronouncing sentence by a hateful necessity imposed upon him, declares the doom for offences committed in this realm of Zeus. But the good lead a life without a tear, among those honored by the gods for having always delighted in virtue: the others endure a life too dreadful to look upon. Whoever has had resolution thrice in both worlds to stand firm, and to keep his soul pure from evil, has found the path of Zeus to the tower of Kronos, where the airs of the ocean breathe around the Isle of the Blessed, and where some from resplendent trees, others from the water glitter golden flowers, with garlandsofwhich they wreathe their wrists and brows in the righteous assemblies of Rhadamanthus, whom father Kronos has as his willing assistant." The "path of Zeus," in the above quotation, means the path which Zeus takes when he goes to visit his father Kronos, whom he originally dethroned and banished, but with whom he is now reconciled, and who has become the ruler of the departed spirits of the just, in a peaceful and joyous region. The following passage constitutes the ninety eighth fragment. "To those who descend from a fruitless and ill starred life Persephone [the Queen of the Dead] will grant a compensation for their former misfortune, after eight years [the judicial period of atonement and lustration for great crimes] granting them their lives again. Then, illustrious kings, strong, 13 Ll. 42-44. 14 Ll. 4-6. 15 Ll. 55-78. swift, wise, they shall become the mightiest leaders; and afterwards they shall be invoked by men as sacred heroes." In this piece, as in the preceding one where reference is made to the thrice living man, is contained the doctrine, early brought from the East, that souls may repeatedly return from the dead and in new bodies lead new lives. One other fragment, the ninety sixth, added to the foregoing, will make up all the important genuine passages in Pindar relating to the future life. "By a beneficent allotment, all travel to an end freeing from toil. The body indeed is subject to the power of death; but the eternal image is left alive, and this alone is allied to the gods. When we are asleep, it shows in many dreams the approaching judgment concerning happiness and misery." When our physical limbs are stretched in insensible repose, the inward spirit, rallying its sleepless and prophetic powers, foretells the balancing awards of another world. We must not wholly confound with the mythological schemes of the vulgar creed the belief of the nobler philosophers, many of whom, as is well known, cherished an exalted faith in the survival of the conscious soul and in a just retribution. "Strike!" one of them said, with the dauntless courage of an immortal, to a tyrant who had threatened to have him brayed in a mortar: "strike! you may crush the shell of Anaxarchus: you cannot touch his life." Than all the maze of fabulous fancies and physical rites in which the dreams of the poets and the guesses of the people were entangled, how much more "Just was the prescience of the eternal goalThat gleamed, 'mid Cyprian shades, on Zeno's soul, Or shone to Plato in the lonely cave, God in all space, and life in every grave!" An account of the Greek views on the subject of a future life which should omit the doctrine of Plato would be defective indeed. The influence of this sublime autocrat in the realms of intellect has transcended calculation. However coldly his thoughts may have been regarded by his contemporary countrymen, they soon obtained cosmopolitan audience, and surviving the ravages of time and ignorance, overleaping the bars of rival schools and sects, appreciated and diffused by the loftiest spirits of succeeding ages, closely blended with their own speculations by many Christian theologians have held an almost unparalleled dominion over the minds of millions of men for more than fifty generations. In the various dialogues of Plato, written at different periods of his life, there are numerous variations and inconsistencies of doctrine. There are also many mythical passages obviously intended as symbolic statements, poetic drapery, by no means to be handled or looked at as the severe outlines of dialectic truth. Furthermore, in these works there are a vast number of opinions and expressions introduced by the interlocutors, who often belong to antagonistic schools of philosophy, and for which, of course, Plato is not to be held responsible. Making allowance for these facts, and resolutely grappling with the many other difficulties of the task, we shall now attempt to exhibit what we consider were the real teachings of Plato in relation to the fate of the soul. This exposition, sketchy as it is, and open to question as it may be in some particulars, is the carefully weighed result of earnest, patient, and repeated study of all the relevant passages. In the first place, it is plain that Plato had a firm religious and philosophical faith in the immortality of the soul, which was continually attracting his thoughts, making it a favorite theme with him and exerting no faint influence on his life. This faith rested both on ancient traditions, to which he frequently refers with invariable reverence, and on metaphysical reasonings, which he over and over presents in forms of conscientious elaboration. There are two tests of his sincerity of faith: first, that he always treats the subject with profound seriousness; secondly, that he always uses it as a practical motive. "I do not think," said Socrates, "that any one who should now hear us, even though he were a comic poet, would say that I am talking idly."16 Again, referring to Homer's description of the judgments in Hades, he says, "I, therefore, Callicles, am persuaded by these accounts, and consider how I may exhibit my soul before the judge in the most healthy condition."17 "To a base man no man nor god is a friend on earth while living, nor under it when dead," say the souls of their ancestors to the living; "but live honorably, and when your destined fate brings you below you shall come to us as friends to friends."18 "We are plants, not of earth, but of heaven."19 We start, then, with the affirmation that Plato honestly and cordially believed in a future life. Secondly, his ethical and spiritual beliefs, like those of nearly all the ancients, were closely interwoven with physical theories and local relations. The world to him consisted of two parts, the celestial region of ideas, and the mundane region of material phenomena, corresponding pretty well, as Lewes suggests, to our modern conception of heaven and earth. Near the close of the Phado, Socrates says that the earth is not of the kind and magnitude usually supposed. "We dwell in a decayed and corroded, muddy and filthy region in the sediment and hollows of the earth, and imagine that we inhabit its upper parts; just as if one dwelling in the bottom of the sea should think that he dwelt on the sea, and, beholding the sun through the water, should imagine that the sea was the heavens. So, if we could fly up to the summit of the air as fishes emerging from the sea to behold what is on the earth here and emerge hence, we should know that the true earth is there. The people there dwell with the gods, and see things as they really are; and what the sea is to us the air is to them, and what the air is to us the ether is to them." Again, in the tenth book of the Republic, eleventh chapter, the soul is metaphorically said in the sea of this corporeal life to get stones and shell fish attached to it, and, fed on earth, to be rendered to a great extent earthy, stony, and savage, like the marine Glaucus, some parts of whose body were broken off and others worn away by the waves, while such quantities of shells, sea weed, and stones had grown to him that he more resembled a beast than a man. In keeping with the whole tenor of the Platonic teaching, this is a fine illustration of the fallen state of man in his vile environment of flesh here below. The soul, in its earthly sojourn, embodied here, is as much mutilated and degraded from its equipped and pure condition in its lofty natal home, the archetypal world of Truth above the base Babel of material existence, as Glaucus was on 16 Phado, 40. 17 Gorgias, 173. 18 Menexenus, 19. 19 Timaus, 71. descending from his human life on the sunny shore to his encrusted shape and blind prowling in the monstrous deep. At another time Plato contrasts the situation of the soul on earth with its situation in heaven by the famous comparison of the dark cave. He supposes men, unable to look upwards, dwelling in a cavern which has an opening towards the light extending lengthwise through the top of the cavern. A great many images, carrying various objects and talking aloud, pass and repass along the edge of the opening. Their shadows fall on the side of the cave below, in front of the dwellers there; also the echoes of their talk sound back from the wall. Now, the men, never having been or looked out of the cave, would suppose these shadows to be the real beings, these echoes the real voices. As respects this figure, says Plato, we must compare ourselves with such persons. The visible region around us is the cave, the sun is the light, and the soul's ascent into the region of mind is the ascent out of the cave and the contemplation of things above.20 Still again, Plato describes the ethereal paths and motions of the gods, who, in their chariots, which are the planets and stars, ride through the universe, accompanied by all pure souls, "the family of true science, contemplating things as they really are." "Reaching the summit, they proceed outside, and, standing on the back of heaven, its revolution carries them round, and they behold that supercelestial region which no poet here can ever sing of as it deserves." In this archetypal world all souls of men have dwelt, though "few have memory enough left," "after their fall hither," "to call to mind former things from the present." "Now, of justice and temperance, and whatever else souls deem precious, there are here but faint resemblances, dull images; but beauty was then splendid to look on when we, in company with the gods, beheld that blissful spectacle, and were initiated into that most blessed of all mysteries, which we celebrated when we were unaffected by the evils that awaited us in time to come, and when we beheld, in the pure light, perfect and calm visions, being ourselves pure and as yet unmasked with this shell of a body to which we are now fettered."21 To suppose all this employed by Plato as mere fancy and metaphor is to commit an egregious error. In studying an ancient author, we must forsake the modern stand point of analysis, and envelop ourselves in the ancient atmosphere of thought, where poetry and science were as indistinguishably blended in the personal beliefs as oxygen and nitrogen are in the common air. We have not a doubt that Plato means to teach, literally, that the soul was always immortal, and that in its anterior states of existence, in the realm of ideas on high, it was in the midst of those essential realities whose shifting shadows alone it can behold in its lapsed condition and bodily imprisonment here. That he closely intertwisted ethical with physical theories, spiritual destinies with insphering localities, the fortunes of men with the revolutions of the earth and stars, is a fact which one can hardly read the Timaus and fail to see; a fact which continually reappears. It is strikingly shown in his idea of the consummation of all things at regular epochs determined by the recurrence of a grand 20 Republic, lib. vii. cap. 1 4. 21 Phadrus, 56-58, 63, 64. revolution of the universe, a period vulgarly known under the name of the "Platonic Year."22 The second point, therefore, in the present explanation of Plato's doctrine of another life, is the conception that there is in the empyrean a glorious world of incorruptible truth, beauty, and goodness, the place of the gods, the native haunt of souls; and that human souls, having yielded to base attractions and sunk into bodies, are but banished sojourners in this phenomenal world of evanescent shadows and illusions, where they are "stung with resistless longings for the skies, and only solaced by the vague and broken reminiscences of their former state." Thirdly, Plato taught that after death an unerring judgment and compensation await all souls. Every soul bears in itself the plain evidence of its quality and deeds, its vices and virtues; and in the unseen state it will meet inevitable awards on its merits. "To go to Hades with a soul full of crimes is the worst of all evils."23 "When a man dies, he possesses in the other world a destiny suited to the life which he has led in this."24 In the second book of the Republic he says, "We shall in Hades suffer the punishment of our misdeeds here;" and he argues at much length the absolute impossibility of in any way escaping this. The fact of a full reward for all wisdom and justice, a full retribution for all folly and vice, is asserted unequivocally in scores of passages, most of them expressly connecting the former with the notion of an ascent to the bright region of truth and intellect, the latter with a descent to the black penal realm of Hades. Let the citation of a single further example suffice. "Some souls, being sentenced, go to places of punishment beneath the earth; others are borne upward to some region in heaven."25 He proves the genuineness of his faith in this doctrine by continually urging it, in the most earnest, unaffected manner, as an animating motive in the formation of character and the conduct of life, saying, "He who neglects his soul will pass lamely through existence, and again pass into Hades, aimless and unserviceable."26 The fourth and last step in this exposition is to show the particular form in which Plato held his doctrine of future retribution, the way in which he supposed the consequences of present good and evil would appear hereafter. He received the Oriental theory of transmigration. Souls are born over and over. The banishment of the wicked to Tartarus is provisional, a preparation for their return to incarnate life. The residence of the good in heaven is contingent, and will be lost the moment they yield to carelessness or material solicitations. The circumstances under which they are reborn, the happiness or misery of their renewed existence, depend on their character and conduct in their previous career; and thus a poetic justice is secured. At the close of the Timaus, Plato describes the whole animal kingdom as consisting of degraded human souls, from "the tribe of birds, which were light minded souls, to the tribe of oysters, which have received the most remote habitations as a punishment of their extreme ignorance." "After this manner, then, both formerly and 22 Statesman, 14, 15. 23 Gorgias, 165. 24 Republic, lib. vi. cap. i. 25 Phadrus, 61. 26 Timaus, 18. now, animals transmigrate, experiencing their changes through the loss or acquisition of intellect and folly." The general doctrine of metempsychosis is stated and implied very frequently in many of the Platonic dialogues. Some recent writers have tried to explain these representations as figures of speech, not intended to portray the literal facts, but merely to hint their moral equivalents. Such persons seem to us to hold Plato's pages in the full glare of the nineteenth century and read them in the philosophic spirit of Bacon and Comte, instead of holding them in the old shades of the Academy and pondering them in the marvelling spirit of Pythagoras and Empedocles. We are led by the following considerations to think that Plato really meant to accredit the transmigration of souls literally. First, he often makes use of the current poetic imagery of Hades, and of ancient traditions, avowedly in a loose metaphorical way, as moral helps, calling them "fables." But the metempsychosis he sets forth, without any such qualification or guard, with so much earnestness and frequency, as a promise and a warning, that we are forced, in the absence of any indication to the contrary, to suppose that he meant the statements as sober fact and not as mythical drapery. As with a parable, of course we need not interpret all the ornamental details literally; but we must accept the central idea. And in the present case the fundamental thought is that of repeated births of the soul, each birth trailing retributive effects from the foregone. For example, the last four chapters of the tenth book of the Republic contain the account of Erus, a Pamphylian, who, after lying dead on the battle field ten days, revived, and told what he had seen in the other state. Plato in the outset explicitly names this recital an "apologue." It recounts a multitude of moral and physical particulars. These details may fairly enough be considered in some degreeas mythical drapery, or as the usual traditional painting; but the essential conception running through the account, for the sake of which it is told, we are not at liberty to explain away as empty metaphor. Now, that essential conception is precisely this: that souls after death are adjudged to Hades or to heaven as a recompense for their sin or virtue, and that, after an appropriate sojourn in those places, they are born again, the former ascending, squalid and scarred, from beneath the earth, the latter descending, pure, from the sky. In perfect consonance with this conclusion is the moral drawn by Plato from the whole narrative. He simply says, "If the company will be persuaded by me, considering the soul to be immortal and able to bear all evil and good, we shall always persevere in the road which leads upwards." Secondly, the conception of the metempsychosis is thoroughly coherent with Plato's whole philosophy. If he was in earnest about any doctrine, it was the doctrine that all knowledge is reminiscence. The following declarations are his. "Soul is older than body." "Souls are continually born over again from Hades into this life." "To search and learn is simply to revive the images of what the soul saw in its pre existent state of being in the world of realities."27 Why should we hesitate to attribute a sincere belief in the metempsychosis to the acknowledged author of the doctrine that the soul lived in another world before appearing here, and that its knowledge is but reminiscence? If born from the other world 27 Menexenus, 15. once, we may be many times; and then all that is wanted to complete the dogma of transmigration is the idea of a presiding justice. Had not Plato that idea? Thirdly, the doctrine of a judicial metempsychosis was most profoundly rooted in the popular faith, as a strict verity, throughout the great East, ages before the time of Plato, and was familiarly known throughout Greece in his time. It had been imported thither by Musaus and Orpheus at an early period, was afterwards widely recommended and established by the Pythagoreans, and was unquestionably held by many of Plato's contemporaries. He refers once to those "who strongly believe that murderers who have gone to Hades will be obliged to come back and end their next lives by suffering the same fate which they had before inflicted on others."28 It is also a remarkable fact that he states the conditions of transmigration, and the means of securing exemption from it, in the same way that the Hindus have from immemorial time: "The soul which has beheld the essence of truth remains free from harm until the next revolution; and if it can preserve the vision of the truth it shall always remain free from harm," that is, be exempt from birth; but "when it fails to behold the field of truth it falls to the earth and is implanted in a body."29 This statement and several others in the context corresponds precisely with Hindu theology, which proclaims that the soul, upon attaining real wisdom, that is, upon penetrating beneath illusions and gazing on reality, is freed from the painful necessity of repeated births. Now, since the Hindus and the Pythagoreans held the doctrine as a severe truth, and Plato states it in the identical forms which they employed, and never implies that he is merely poetizing, we naturally conclude that he, too, veritably inculcates it as fact. Finally, we are the more confirmed in this supposition when we find that his lineal disciples and most competent expounders, such as Proclus, and nearly all his later commentators, such as Ritter, have so understood him. The great chorus of his interpreters, from Plotinus to Leroux, with scarcely a dissentient voice, approve the opinion pronounced by the learned German historian of philosophy, that "the conception of the metempsychosis is so closely interwoven both with his physical system and with his ethical as to justify the conviction that Plato looked upon it as legitimate and valid, and not as a merely figurative exposition of the soul's life after death." To sum up the whole in one sentence: Plato taught with grave earnestness the immortality of the soul, subject to a discriminating retribution, which opened for its temporary residences three local regions, heaven, earth, and Hades, and which sometimes led it through different grades of embodied being. "O thou youth who thinkest that thou art neglected by the gods, the person who has become more wicked departs to the more wicked souls; but he who has become better departs to the better souls, both in life and in all deaths."30 Whether Aristotle taught or denied the immortality of the soul has been the subject of innumerable debates from his own time until now. It is certainly a most ominous fact that his great name has been cited as authority for rejecting the doctrine of a future life by so many 28 The Laws, b. ix. ch. 10. 29 Phadrus, 60-62. 30 The Laws, lib. x. cap. 13. of his keenest followers; for this has been true of weighty representatives of every generation of his disciples. Antagonistic advocates have collected from his works a large number of varying statements, endeavoring to distinguish between the literal and the figurative, the esoteric and the popular. It is not worth our while here, either for their intrinsic interest or for their historic importance, to quote the passages and examine the arguments. All that is required for our purpose may be expressed in the language of Ritter, who has carefully investigated the whole subject: "No passage in his extant works is decisive; but, from the general context of his doctrine, it is clear that he had no conception of the immortality of any individual rational entity."31 It would take a whole volume instead of a chapter to set forth the multifarious contrasting tenets of individual Greek philosophers, from the age of Pherecydes to that of Iamblichus, in relation to a future life. Not a few held, with Empedocles, that human life is a penal state, the doom of such immortal souls as for guilt have been disgraced and expelled from heaven. "Man is a fallen god condemned to wander on the earth, sky aspiring but sense clouded." Purged by a sufficient penance, he returns to his former godlike existence. "When, leaving this body, thou comest to the free ether, thou shalt be no longer a mortal, but an undying god." Notions of this sort fairly represent no small proportion of the speculations upon the fate of the soul which often reappear throughout the course of Greek literature. Another class of philosophers are represented by such names as Marcus Antoninus, who, comparing death to disembarkation at the close of a voyage, says, "If you land upon another life, it will not be empty of gods: if you land in nonentity, you will have done with pleasures, pains, and drudgery."32 And again he writes, "If souls survive, how has ethereal space made room for them all from eternity? How has the earth found room for all the bodies buried in it? The solution of the latter problem will solve the former. The corpse turns to dust and makes space for another: so the spirit, let loose into the air, after a while dissolves, and is either renewed into another soul or absorbed into the universe. Thus room is made for succession."33 These passages, it will be observed, leave the survival of the soul at all entirely hypothetical, and, even supposing it to survive, allow it but a temporary duration. Such was the common view of the great sect of the Stoics. They all agreed that there was no real immortality for the soul; but they differed greatly as to the time of its dissolution. In the words of Cicero, "Diu mansuros aiunt animos; semper, negant:" they say souls endure for a long time, but not forever. Cleanthes taught that the intensity of existence after death would depend on the strength or weakness of the particular soul. Chrysippus held that only the souls of the wise and good would survive at all.34 Panatius said the soul always died with the body, because it was born with it, which he proved by the resemblances of children's souls to those of their parents.35 Seneca has a great many contradictory passages on this subject 31 Hist. Anc. Phil. p. iii. b. ix. ch. 4. 32 Meditations, lib. iii. cap. 3. 33 Ibid. lib. iv. cap. 21. 34 Plutarch, Plac. Phil. iv. 7. 35 Tusc. Quast. lib. i. cap. 32. in his works; but his preponderant authority, upon the whole, is that the soul and the body perish together.36 At one time he says, "The day thou fearest as the last is the birthday of eternity." "As an infant in the womb is preparing to dwell in this world, so ought we to consider our present life as a preparation for the life to come."37 At another time he says, with stunning bluntness, "There is nothing after death, and death itself is nothing." Post mortem nihil est, ipsaque mors nihil. 38 Besides the mystics, like Plotinus, who affirmed the strict eternity of the soul, and the Stoics, like Poseidonius, who believed that the soul, having had a beginning, must have an end, although it might endure for a long period after leaving the body, there were among the Greeks and Romans two other classes of believers in a future life, namely, the ignorant body of the people, who credited, more or less fully, the common fables concerning Hades; and an educated body of select minds, who, while casting off the popular superstitions, yet clung tenaciously to the great fact of immortality in some form or other, without attempting to define the precise mode of it. There was among the illiterate populace, both Greek and Roman, even from the age of Eumolpus to that of Augustus, a good deal of firm faith in a future life, according to the gross scheme and particulars preserved to us still in the classic mythology. A thousand current allusions and statements in the general literature of those times prove the actual existence of a common and literal belief in Hades with all its accompaniments. This was far from being, in the average apprehension, a mere myth. Plato says, "Many, of their own accord, have wished to descend into Hades, induced by the hope of there seeing and being with those they have loved."39 He also says, "When a man is about to die, the stories of future punishment which he had formerly ridiculed trouble him with fears of their truth."40 And that frightful accounts of hell really swayed and terrified the people, even so late as the time of the Roman republic, appears from the earnest and elaborate arguments employed by various writers to refute them. The same thing is shown by the religious ritual enacted at funerals and festivals, the forms of public and private worship observed till after the conversion of Constantine. The cake of rice and honey borne in the dead hand for Cerberus, the periodical offerings to the ghosts of the departed, as at the festivals called Feralia and Parentalia,41 the pictures of the scenery of the under world, hung in the temples, of which there was a famous one by Polygnotus,42 all imply a literal crediting of the vulgar doctrine. Altars were set up on the spots where Tiberius and Caius Gracchus were murdered, and services were there performed in honor of their manes. Festus, an old Roman lexicographer who lived in the second or third century, tells us there was in the Comitium a stone covered pit which was supposed to be the 36 Christoph Meiners, Vermischte Philosophische Schriften. Commentarius quo Stoicorum Sententia; de Animorum post mortem Statu satis illustrantur. 37 Epist. 102. 38 Troades, 1. 397. 39 Phado, 34. 40 Republic, lib. i. cap. 5. 41 Ovid, Fasti, lib. ii. II. 530-580. 42 Pausanias, lib. x. cap. 28. mouth of Orcus, and was opened three days in the year for souls to rise out into the upper world.43 Apuleius describes, in his treatise on "the god of Socrates," the Roman conceptions of the departed spirits of men. They called all disembodied human souls "lemures." Those of good men were "lares," those of bad men "larva." And when it was uncertain whether the specified soul was a lar or a larva, it was named "manes." The lares were mild household gods to their posterity. The larva were wandering, frightful shapes, harmless to the pious, but destructive to the reprobate.44 The belief in necromancy is well known to have prevailed extensively among the Greeks and Romans. Aristophanes represents the coward, Pisander, going to a necromancer and asking to "see his own soul, which had long departed, leaving him a man with breath alone."45 In Latin literature no popular terror is more frequently alluded to or exemplified than the dread of seeing ghosts. Every one will recall the story of the phantom that appeared in the tent of Brutus before the battle of Philippi. It pervades the "Haunted House" of Plautus. Callimachus wrote the following couplet as an epitaph on the celebrated misanthrope: "Timon, hat'st thou the world or Hades worse? Speak clear! Hades, O fool, because there are more of us here!" 46 Pythagoras is said once to have explained an earthquake as being caused by a synod of ghosts assembled under ground! It is one of the best of the numerous jokes attributed to the great Samian; a good nut for the spirit rappers to crack. There is an epigram by Diogenes Laertius, on one Lycon, who died of the gout: "He who before could not so much as walk alone, The whole long road to Hades travell'd in one night!" Philostratus declares that the shade of Apollonius appeared to a skeptical disciple of his and said, "The soul is immortal."47 It is unquestionable that the superstitious fables about the under world and ghosts had a powerful hold, for a very long period, upon the Greek and Roman imagination, and were widely accepted as facts. At the same time, there were many persons of more advanced culture to whom such coarse and fanciful representations had become incredible, but who still held loyally to the simple idea of the survival of the soul. They cherished a strong expectation of another life, although they rejected the revolting form and drapery in which the doctrine was usually set forth. Xenophon puts the following speech into the mouth of the expiring Cyrus: "I was never able, my children, to persuade myself that the soul, as long as it was in a mortal body, lived, but when it was removed from this, that it died; neither could I believe that the soul ceased to think when separated from the unthinking and senseless body; but it seemed to me most probable that when pure and free from any union with the body, then it became most 43 De Significatione Verborum, verbum "Manalis." 44 Lessing, Wie die Alten den Tod gebildet. 45 Ayes, I. 1485. 46 Epigram IV. 47 Vita Apollonii, lib. viii. cap. 31. wise."48 Every one has read of the young man whose faith and curiosity were so excited by Plato's writings that he committed suicide to test the fact of futurity. Callimachus tells the story neatly: "Cleombrotus, the Ambracian, having said, 'Farewell, O sun!' leap'd from a lofty wall into the world Of ghosts. No deadly ill had chanced to him at all; But he had read in Plato's book upon the soul." 49 The falling of Cato on his sword at Utica, after carefully perusing the Phado, is equally familiar. In the case of Cicero, too, notwithstanding his fluctuations of feeling and the obvious contradictions of sentiment in some of his letters and his more deliberate essays, it is, upon the whole, plain enough that, while he always regarded the vulgar notions as puerile falsehoods, the hope of a glorious life to come was powerful in him. This may be stated as the result of a patient investigation and balancing of all that he says on the subject, and of the circumstances under which he says it. To cite and criticize the passages here would occupy too much space to too little profit. At the siege of Jerusalem, Titus made a speech to his soldiers, in the course of it saying to them, "Those souls which are severed from their fleshly bodies by the sword in battle, are received by the pure ether and joined to that company which are placed among the stars."50 The beautiful story of Cupid and Psyche, that loveliest of all the myths concerning the immortality of the soul, was a creation by no means foreign to the prevalent ideas and feelings of the time when it was written. The "Dissertations" of Maximus Tyrius abound with sentences like the following. "This very thing which the multitude call death is the birth of a new life, and the beginning of immortality."51 "When Pherecydes lay sick, conscious of spiritual energy, he cared not for bodily disease, his soul standing erect and looking for release from its cumbersome vestment. So a man in chains, seeing the walls of his prison crumbling, waits for deliverance, that from the darkness in which he has been buried he may soar to the ethereal regions and be filled with glorious light."52 The conception of man as a member of the cosmic family of gods and genii was known to all the classic philosophers, and was cherished by the larger portion of them. Pindar affirms one origin for gods and men. Plato makes wise souls accompany the gods in their excursions about the sky. Cicero argues that heaven, and not Hades, is the destination of the soul at death, because the soul, being lighter than the earthly elements surrounding it here, would rise aloft through the natural force of gravitation.53 Plutarch says, "Demons are the spies and scouts of the gods, wandering and circuiting around on their commands." Disembodied souls 48 Cyropadia, lib. viii. cap. 7. 49 Epigram XXIV. 50 Josephus, De Bell. lib. vi. cap. 1. 51 Diss. XXV. 52 Diss. XLI. 53 Tusc. Quest. lib i. cap. 17. and demons were the same. The prevalence of such ideas as these produced in the Greek and Roman imagination a profound sense of invisible beings, a sense which was further intensified by the popular personifications of all natural forces, as in fountains and trees, full of lapsing naiads and rustling dryads. An illustrative fact is furnished by an effect of the tradition that Thetis, snatching the body of Achilles from the funeral pile, conveyed him to Leuke, an island in the Black Sea. The mariners sailing by often fancied they saw his mighty shade flitting along the shore in the dusk of evening.54 But a passage in Hesiod yields a more adequate illustration: "When the mortal remains of those who flourished during the golden age were hidden beneath the earth, their souls became beneficent demons, still hovering over the world they once inhabited, and still watching, clothed in thin air and gliding rapidly through every region of the earth, as guardians over the affairs of men."55 But there were always some who denied the common doctrine of a future life and scoffed at its physical features. Through the absurd extravagances of poets and augurs, and through the growth of critical thought, this unbelief went on increasing from the days of Anaxagoras, when it was death to call the sun a ball of fire, to the days of Catiline, when Julius Casar could be chosen Pontifex Maximus, almost before the Senate had ceased to reverberate his voice openly asserting that death was the utter end of man. Plutarch dilates upon the wide skepticism of the Greeks as to the infernal world, at the close of his essay on the maxim, "Live concealed." The portentous growth of irreverent unbelief, the immense change of feeling from awe to ribaldry, is made obvious by a glance from the known gravity of Hesiod's "Descent of Theseus and Pirithous into Hades," to Lucian's "Kataplous," which represents the cobbler Mycillus leaping from the banks of the Styx, swimming after Charon's boat, climbing into it upon the shoulders of the tyrant Megapenthes and tormenting him the whole way. Pliny, in his Natural History, affirms that death is an everlasting sleep.56 The whole great sect of the Epicureans united in supporting that belief by the combined force of ridicule and argument. Their views are the most fully and ably defended by the consummate Lucretius, in his masterly poem on the "Nature of Things." Horace,57 Juvenal,58 Persius,59 concur in scouting at the tales which once, when recited on the stage, had made vast audiences perceptibly tremble.60 And Cicero asks, "What old woman is so insane as to fear these things?"61 There were two classes of persons who sought differently to free mankind from the terrors which had invested the whole prospect of death and another world. The first were the materialists, who endeavored to prove that death was to man the absolute end of every thing. Secondly, there were the later Platonists, who maintained that this world is the only Hades, that heaven is our home, that all death is ascent to better life. "To remain on high with the gods is life; to descend into this world is death, a descent into Orcus," they said. The following couplet, of an unknown date, is translated from the Greek Anthology: "Diogenes, whose tub stood by the road, Now, being dead, has the stars for his abode." 54 Muller, Greek Literature, ch. vi. 55 Works and Days, lib. i. II. 120-125. 56 Lib. ii. cap. 7. 57 Lib. i. epist. 16. 58 Sat. II. 59 Sat. II. 60 Tusc. Quest. lib. i. cap. 16. 61 Ibid. cap. 21. Macrobius writes, in his commentary on the "Dream of Scipio," "Here, on earth, is the cavern of Dis, the infernal region. The river of oblivion is the wandering of the mind forgetting the majesty of its former life and thinking a residence in the body the only life. Phlegethon is the fires of wrath and desire. Acheron is retributive sadness. Cocytus is wailing tears. Styx is the whirlpool of hatreds. The vulture eternally tearing the liver is the torment of an evil conscience."62 To the ancient Greek in general, death was a sad doom. When he lost a friend, he sighed a melancholy farewell after him to the faded shore of ghosts. Summoned himself, he departed with a lingering look at the sun, and a tearful adieu to the bright day and the green earth. To the Roman, death was a grim reality. To meet it himself he girded up his loins with artificial firmness. But at its ravages among his friends he wailed in anguished abandonment. To his dying vision there was indeed a future; but shapes of distrust and shadow stood upon its disconsolate borders; and, when the prospect had no horror, he still shrank from its poppied gloom. 62 Lib. i. cap. 9, 10. CHAPTER XI. MOHAMMEDAN DOCTRINE OF A FUTURE LIFE. ISLAM has been a mighty power in the earth since the middle of the seventh century. A more energetic and trenchant faith than it was for eight hundred years has not appeared among men. Finally expelled from its startling encampments in Spain and the Archipelago, it still rules with tenacious hold over Turkey, a part of Tartary, Palestine, Persia, Arabia, and large portions of Africa. At this moment, as to adherence and influence, it is subordinate only to the two foremost religious systems in the world, Buddhism and Christianity. The dogmatic structure of Islam as a theology and its practical power as an experimental religion offer a problem of the gravest interest. But we must hasten on to give an exposition of merely those elements in it which are connected with its doctrine of a future life. It is a matter of entire notoriety that there is but the least amount of originality in the tenets of the Mohammedan faith. The blending together of those tenets was distinctive, the unifying soul breathed into them was a new creation, and the great aim to which the whole was subordinated was peculiar; but the component doctrines themselves, with slight exception, existed before as avowed principles in the various systems of belief and practice that prevailed around. Mohammed adopted many of the notions and customs of the pagan Arabs, the central dogma of the Jews as to the unity of God, most of the traditions of the Hebrew Scriptures, innumerable fanciful conceits of the Rabbins,1 whole doctrines of the Magians with their details, some views of the Gnostics, and extensive portions of a corrupted Christianity, grouping them together with many modifications of his own, and such additions as his genius afforded and his exigencies required. The motley strangely results in a compact and systematic working faith. The Islamites are divided into two great sects, the Sunnees and the Sheeahs. The Arabs, Tartars, and Turks are Sunnees, are dominant in numbers and authority, are strict literalists, and are commonly considered the orthodox believers. The Persians are Sheeahs, are inferior in point of numbers, are somewhat freer in certain interpretations, placing a mass of tradition, like the Jewish Mischna, on a level with the Koran,2 and are usually regarded as heretical. To apply our own ecclesiastical phraseology to them, the latter are the Moslem Protestants, the former the Moslem Catholics. Yet in relation to almost every thing which should seem at all fundamental or vital they agree in their teachings. Their differences in general are upon trivial opinions, or especially upon ritual particulars. For instance, the Sheeahs send all the Sunnees to hell because in their ablutions they wash from the elbow to the finger tips; the Sunnees return the compliment to their rival sectarists because they wash from the finger tips to the elbow. Within these two grand denominations of Sheeah and 1 Rabbi Abraham Geiger, Prize Essay upon the question, proposed by the University of Bonn, "Was hat Mohammed aus dem Judenthum aufgenommen?" 2 Merrick, Translation of the Sheeah Traditions of Mohammed in the Hyat ul Kuloob, note x. Sunnee are found a multitude of petty sects, separated from each other on various questions of speculative faith and ceremonial practice. Some take the Koran alone, and that in its plain literal sense, as their authority. Others read the Koran in the explanatory light of a vast collection of parables, proverbs, legends, purporting to be from Mohammed. There is no less than a score of mystic allegorizing sects3 who reduce almost every thing in the Koran to symbol, or spiritual signification, and some of whom as the Sufis are the most rapt and imaginative of all the enthusiastic devotees in the world. A cardinal point in the Mohammedan faith is the asserted existence of angels, celestial and infernal. Eblis is Satan. He was an angel of lofty rank; but when God created Adam and bade all the angels worship him, Eblis refused, saying, "I was created of fire, he of clay: I am more excellent and will not bow to him."4 Upon this God condemned Eblis and expelled him from Paradise. He then became the unappeasable foe and seducing destroyer of men. He is the father of those swarms of jins, or evil spirits, who crowd all hearts and space with temptations and pave the ten thousand paths to hell with lures for men. The next consideration preliminary to a clear exhibition of our special subject, is the doctrine of predestination, the unflinching fatalism which pervades and crowns this religion. The breath of this appalling faith is saturated with fatality, and its very name of Islam means "Submission." In heaven the prophet saw a prodigious wax tablet, called the "Preserved Table," on which were written the decrees of all events between the morning of creation and the day of judgment. The burning core of Mohammed's preaching was the proclamation of the one true God whose volition bears the irresistible destiny of the universe; and inseparably associated with this was an intense hatred of idolatry, fanned by the wings of God's wrath and producing a fanatic sense of a divine commission to avenge him on his insulters and vindicate for him his rightful worship from every nation. There is an apparent conflict between the Mohammedan representations of God's absolute predestination of all things, and the abundant exhortations to all men to accept the true faith and bring forth good works, and thus make sure of an acceptable account in the day of judgment. The former make God's irreversible will all in all. The latter seem to place alternative conditions before men, and to imply in them a power of choice. But this is a contradiction inseparable from the discussion of God's infinite sovereignty and man's individual freedom. The inconsistency is as gross in Augustine and Calvinism as it is in the Arabian lawgiver and the creed of the Sunnees. The Koran, instead of solving the difficulty, boldly cuts it, and does that in exactly the same way as the thorough Calvinist. God has respectively elected and reprobated all the destined inhabitants of heaven and hell, unalterably, independently of their choice or action. At the same time, reception of the true faith, and a life conformed to it, are virtually necessary for salvation, because it is decreed that all the elect shall profess and obey the true faith. Their obedient reception of it proves them to be elected. On the other hand, it is foreordained that none of the reprobate shall become disciples and followers of the Prophet. Their rejection of 3 Churchill, Mount Lebanon, vol. i. ch. xv. 4 Sale's Translation of the Koran, ch. vii. him, their wicked misbelief, is the evidence of their original reprobation. As the Koran itself expresses it, salvation is for "all who are willing to be warned; but they shall not be warned unless God please:"5 "all who shall be willing to walk uprightly; but they shall not be willing unless God willeth."6 But such fine drawn distinctions are easily lost from sight or spurned in the eager affray of affairs and the imminent straits of the soul. While in dogma and theory the profession of an orthodox belief, together with scrupulous prayer, fasting, alms, and the pilgrimage to Mecca, or the absence of these things, simply denotes the foregone determinations of God in regard to the given individuals, in practice and feeling the contrasted beliefs and courses of conduct are held to obtain heaven and hell. And we find, accordingly, that Mohammed spoke as if God's primeval ordination had fixed all things forever, whenever he wished to awaken in his followers reckless valor and implicit submission. "Whole armies cannot slay him who is fated to die in his bed." On the contrary, when he sought to win converts, to move his hearers by threatenings and persuasions, he spoke as if every thing pertaining to human weal and woe, present and future, rested on conditions within the choice of men. Say, "'There is but one God, and Mohammed is his prophet,' and heaven shall be your portion; but cling to your delusive errors, and you shall be companions of the infernal fire." Practically speaking, the essence of propagandist Islam was a sentiment like this. All men who do not follow Mohammed are accursed misbelievers. We are God's chosen avengers, the commissioned instruments for reducing his foes to submission. Engaged in that work, the hilts of all our scimitars are in his hand. He snatches his servant martyr from the battle field to heaven. Thus the weapons of the unbelievers send their slain to paradise, while the weapons of the believers send their slain to hell. Up, then, with the crescent banner, and, dripping with idolatrous gore, let it gleam over mountain and plain till our sickles have reaped the earth! "The sword is the key of heaven and the key of hell. A drop of blood shed in the cause of Allah, a night spent in arms, is of more avail than two months of fasting and prayer. Whoever falls in battle, his sins are forgiven. In the day of judgment his wounds shall be resplendent as vermilion and odoriferous as musk."7 An infuriated zeal against idolaters and unbelievers inflamed the Moslem heart, a fierce martial enthusiasm filled the Moslem soul, and tangible visions of paradise and hell floated, illuminate, throughtheMoslem imagination. And so from the Persian Gulf to the Caucasus, from Sierra Leone to the Pyrenees, the polity of Mohammed overran the nations, with the Koran in its left hand, the exterminating blade in its right, one thunder shout still breaking from its awful lips: "Profess Islam, and live, with the clear prospect of eternal bliss beyond life; reject it, and die, with the full certainty of eternal anguish beyond death." When the crusading Christians and the Saracenic hosts met in battle, the conflict was the very frenzy of fanaticism. "There the question of salvation or damnation lay on the ground between the marshalled armies, to be fought for and carried by the stronger." Christ and Allah encountered, and the endless fate of their opposed 5 Koran, ch. lxxiv. 6 Ibid. ch. lxxxi. 7 Gibbon, Decline and Fall of Rome, ch. 1. followers hung on the swift turning issue. "Never have the appalling ideas of the invisible world so much and so distinctly mingled with the fury of mortal strife as in this instance. To the eyes of Turk and Arab the smoke of the infernal pit appeared to break up from the ground in the rear of the infidel lines. As the squadrons of the faithful moved on to the charge, that pit yawned to receive the miscreant host; and in chasing the foe the prophet's champions believed they were driving their antagonists down the very slopes of perdition. When at length steel clashed upon steel and the yell of death shook the air, the strife was not so much between arm and arm as between spirit and spirit, and each deadly thrust was felt to pierce the life at once of the body and of the soul."8 That terrible superstition prevails almost universally among the Mussulmans, designated the "Beating in the Sepulchre," or the examination and torture of the body in the grave. As soon as a corpse is interred, two black and livid angels, called the Examiners, whose names are Munkeer and Nakeer, appear, and order the dead person to sit up and answer certain questions as to his faith. If he give satisfactory replies, they suffer him to rest in peace, refreshed by airs from paradise; but if he prove to have been an unbeliever or heretic, they beat him on the temples with iron maces till he roars aloud with pain and terror. They then press the earth on the body, which remains gnawed and stung by dragons and scorpions until the last day. Some sects give a figurative explanation of these circumstances. The utter denial of the whole representation is a schismatic peculiarity of the sect of Motozallites. But all true believers, both Sunnee and Sheeah, devoutly accept it literally. The commentators declare that it is implied in the following verse of the Koran itself: "How, therefore, will it be with them when they die and the angels shall strike their faces and their backs?" 9 The intermediate state of souls from the time of death until the resurrection has been the subject of extensive speculation and argument with the Islamites. The souls of the prophets, it is thought, are admitted directly to heaven. The souls of martyrs, according to a tradition received from Mohammed, rest in heaven in the crops of green birds who eat of the fruits and drink of the rivers there. As to the location of the souls of the common crowd of the faithful, the conclusions are various. Some maintain that they and the souls of the impious alike sleep in the dust until the end, when Israfil's blasts will stir them into life to be judged. But the general and orthodox impression is that they tarry in one of the heavens, enjoying a preparatory blessedness. The souls of the wicked, it is commonly held, after being refused a place in the tomb and also being repulsed from heaven, are carried down to the lower abyss, and thrown into a dungeon under a green rock, or into the jaw of Eblis, there to be treated with foretastes of their final doom until summoned to the judgment.10 A very prominent doctrine in the Moslem creed is that of the resurrection of the body. This is a central feature in the orthodox faith. It is expounded in all the emphatic details of its gross literality by their authoritative doctors, and is dwelt upon with unwearied reiteration by the Koran. True, some minor heretical sects give it a spiritual interpretation; but the great 8 Taylor, Hist. of Fanaticism, sect. vii. 9 Ch. xlvii. 10 Sale, Preliminary Discourse, sect. iv. body of believers accept it unhesitatingly in its most physical shape. The intrinsic unnaturalness and improbability of the dogma were evidently felt by Mohammed and his expositors; and all the more they strove to bolster it up and enforce its reception by vehement affirmations and elaborate illustrations. In the second chapter of the Koran it is related that, in order to remove the skepticism of Abraham as to the resurrection, God wrought the miracle of restoring four birds which had been cut in pieces and scattered. In chapter seventh, God says, "We bring rain upon a withered country and cause the fruits to spring forth. Thus will we bring the dead from their graves." The prophet frequently rebukes those who reject this belief. "What aileth them, that they believe not the resurrection?"11 "Is not He who created man able to quicken the dead?"12 "The scoffers say, 'Shall we be raised to life, and our forefathers too, after we have become dust and bones? This is nothing but sorcery.'"13 First, Israfil will blow the blast of consternation. After an interval, he will blow the blast of examination, at which all creatures will die and the material universe will melt in horror. Thirdly, he will blow the blast of resurrection. Upon that instant, the assembled souls of mankind will issue from his trumpet, like a swarm of bees, and fill the atmosphere, seeking to be reunited to their former bodies, which will then be restored, even to their very hairs. The day of judgment immediately follows. This is the dreadful day for which all other days were made; and it will come with blackness and consternation to unbelievers and evil doers, but with peace and delight to the faithful. The total race of man will be gathered in one place. Mohammed will first advance in front, to the right hand, as intercessor for the professors of Islam. The preceding prophets will appear with their followers. Gabriel will hold suspended a balance so stupendous that one scale will cover paradise, the other hell. "Hath the news of the overwhelming day of judgment reached thee?"14 "Whoever hath wrought either good or evil of the weight of an ant shall in that day behold the same."15 An infallible scrutiny shall search and weigh every man's deeds, and exact justice shall be done, and no foreign help can avail any one. "One soul shall not be able to obtain any thing in behalf of another soul."16 "Every man of them on that day shall have business enough of his own to employ his thoughts."17 In all the Mohammedan representations of this great trial and of the principles which determine its decisions, no reference is made to the doctrine of predestination, but all turns on strict equity. Reckoning a reception or rejection of the true faith as a crowning merit or demerit, the only question is, Do his good works outweigh, by so much as a hair, his evil works? If so, he goes to the right; if not, he must take the left. The solitary trace of fatalism or rather favoritism is this: that no idolater, once in hell, can ever possibly be released, while no Islamite, however wicked, can be damned eternally. The punishment of unbelievers is everlasting, that of believers limited. The opposite of this opinion is a great heresy with the generality of the Moslems. Some say the judgment will require but the twinkling of an eye; others that it will occupy fifty thousand years, during which time the sun will be drawn from its sheath and burn insufferably, and the wicked will stand looking up, their feet shod with shoes of fire, and their skulls boiling like pots. At last, 11 Ch. lxxxiv. 12 Ch. lxxv. 13 Ch. xxxvii., lvi. 14 Koran, ch. lxxxviii. 15 Ibid. ch. xcix. 16 Ibid. ch. lxxxii. 17 Ibid. ch. lxxx. when sentence has been passed on them, all souls are forced to try the passage of al Sirat, a bridge thinner than a hair, sharper than a razor, and hotter than flame, spanning in one frail arch the immeasurable distance, directly over hell, from earth to paradise. Some affect a metaphorical solution of this air severing causeway, and take it merely as a symbol of the true Sirat, or bridge of this world, namely, the true faith and obedience; but every orthodox Mussulman firmly holds it as a physical fact to be surmounted in the last day.18 Mohammed leading the way, the faithful and righteous will traverse it with ease and as quickly as a flash of lightning. The thin edge broadens beneath their steps, the surrounding support of convoying angels' wings hides the fire lake below from their sight, and they are swiftly enveloped in paradise. But as the infidel with his evil deeds essays to cross, thorns entangle his steps, the lurid glare beneath blinds him, and he soon topples over and whirls into the blazing abyss. In Dr. Frothingham's fine translation from Ruckert, "When the wicked o'er it goes, stands the bridge all sparkling; And his mind bewilder'd grows, and his eye swims darkling. Wakening, giddying, then comes in, with a deadly fright, Memory of all his sin, rushing on his sight. But when forward steps the just, he is safe e'en here: Round him gathers holy trust, and drives back his fear. Each good deed's a mist, that wide, golden borders gets; And for him the bridge, each side, shines with parapets." Between hell and paradise is an impassable wall, al Araf, separating the tormented from the happy, and covered with those souls whose good works exactly counterpoise their evil works, and who are, consequently, fitted for neither place. The prophet and his expounders have much to say of this narrow intermediate abode.19 Its lukewarm denizens are contemptuously spoken of. It is said that Araf seems hell to the blessed but paradise to the damned; for does not every thing depend on the point of view? The Mohammedan descriptions of the doom of the wicked, the torments of hell, are constantly repeated and are copious and vivid. Reference to chapter and verse would be superfluous, since almost every page of the Koran abounds in such tints and tones as the following. "The unbelievers shall be companions of hell fire forever." "Those who disbelieve we will surely cast to be broiled in hell fire: so often as their skins shall be well burned we will give them other skins in exchange, that they may taste the sharper torment." "I will fill hell entirely full of genii and men." "They shall be dragged on their faces into hell, and it shall be said unto them, 'Taste ye that torment of hell fire which ye rejected as a falsehood.'" "The unbelievers shall be driven into hell by troops." "They shall be taken by the forelocks and the feet and flung into hell, where they shall drink scalding water." "Their only entertainment shall be boiling water, and they shall be fuel for hell." "The smoke of hell shall cast forth sparks as big as towers, resembling yellow camels in color." "They who believe not shall 18 W. C. Taylor, Mohammedanism and its Sects. 19 Koran, ch. viii. Sale, Preliminary Discourse, p. 125. have garments of fire fitted on them, and they shall be beaten with maces of red hot iron." "The true believers, lying on couches, shall look down upon the infidels in hell and laugh them to scorn." There is a tradition that a door shall be shown the damned opening into paradise, but when they approach it, it shall be suddenly shut, and the believers within will laugh. Pitiless and horrible as these expressions from the Koran are, they are merciful compared with the pictures in the later traditions, of women suspended by their hair, their brains boiling, suspended by their tongues, molten copper poured down their throats, bound hands and feet and devoured piecemeal by scorpions, hung up by their heels in flaming furnaces and their flesh cut off on all sides with scissors of fire. 20 Their popular teachings divide hell into seven stories, sunk one under another. The first and mildest is for the wicked among the true believers. The second is assigned to the Jews. The third is the special apartment of the Christians. They fourth is allotted to the Sabians, the fifth to the Magians, and the sixth to the most abandoned idolaters; but the seventh the deepest and worst belongs to the hypocrites of all religions. The first hell shall finally be emptied and destroyed, on the release of the wretched believers there; but all the other hells will retain their victims eternally. If the visions of hell which filled the fancies of the faithful were material and glowing, equally so were their conceptions of paradise. On this world of the blessed were lavished all the charms so fascinating to the Oriental luxuriousness of sensual languor, and which the poetic Oriental imagination knew so well how to depict. As soon as the righteous have passed Sirat, they obtain the first taste of their approaching felicity by a refreshing draught from "Mohammed's Pond." This is a square lake, a month's journey in circuit, its water whiter than milk or silver and more fragrant than to be comparable to any thing known by mortals. As many cups are set around it as there are stars in the firmament; and whoever drinks from it will never thirst more. Then comes paradise, an ecstatic dream of pleasure, filled with sparkling streams, honeyed fountains, shady groves, precious stones, all flowers and fruits, blooming youths, circulating goblets, black eyed houris, incense, brilliant birds, delightsome music, unbroken peace.21 A Sheeah tradition makes the prophet promise to Ali twelve palaces in paradise, built of gold and silver bricks laid in a cement of musk and amber. The pebbles around them are diamonds and rubies, the earth saffron, its hillocks camphor. Rivers of honey, wine, milk, and water flow through the court of each palace, their banks adorned with various resplendent trees, interspersed with bowers consisting each of one hollow transparent pearl. In each of these bowers is an emerald throne, with a houri upon it arrayed in seventy green robes and seventy yellow robes of so fine a texture, and she herself so transparent, that the marrow of her ankle, notwithstanding robes, flesh, and bone, is as distinctly visible as a flame in a glass vessel. Each houri has seventy locks of hair, every one under the care of a maid, who perfumes it with a censer which God has made to smoke with incense without the presence of fire; and no mortal has ever breathed such fragrance as is there exhaled. 22 20 Hyat ul Kuloob, ch. x. p. 206. 21 Koran, ch. lv. ch. lvi. 22 Hyat ul Kuloob, ch. xvi. p. 286. Such a doctrine of the future life as that here set forth, it is plain, was strikingly adapted to win and work fervidly on the minds of the imaginative, voluptuous, indolent, passionate races of the Orient. It possesses a nucleus of just and natural moral conviction and sentiment, around which is grouped a composite of a score of superstitions afloat before the rise of Islam, set off with the arbitrary drapery of a poetic fancy, colored by the peculiar idiosyncrasies of Mohammed, emphasized to suit his special ends, and all inflamed with a vindictive and propagandist animus. Any word further in explanation of the origin, or in refutation of the soundness, of this system of belief once so imminently aggressive and still so widely established would seem to be superfluous. CHAPTER XII. EXPLANATORY SURVEY OF THE FIELD AND ITS MYTHS. SURVEYING the thought of mankind upon the subject of a future life, as thus far examined, one can hardly fail to be struck by the multitudinous variety of opinions and pictures it presents. Whence and how arose this heterogeneous mass of notions? In consequence of the endowments with which God has created man, the doctrine of a future life arises as a normal fact in the development of his experience. But the forms and accompaniments of the doctrine, the immense diversity of dress and colors it appears in, are subject to all the laws and accidents that mould and clothe the products within any other department of thought and literature. We must refer the ethnic conceptions of a future state to the same sources to which other portions of poetry and philosophy are referred, namely, to the action of sentiment, fancy, and reason, first; then to the further action, reaction, and interaction of the pictures, dogmas, and reasonings of authoritative poets, priests, and philosophers on one side, and of the feeling, faith, and thought of credulous multitudes and docile pupils on the other. In the light of these great centres of intellectual activity, parents of intellectual products, there is nothing pertaining to the subject before us, however curious, which may not be intelligibly explained, seen naturally to spring out of certain conditions of man's mind and experience as related with the life of society and the phenomena of the world. So far as the views of the future life set forth in the religions of the ancient nations constitute systematically developed and arranged schemes of doctrine and symbol, the origin of them therefore needs no further explanation than is furnished by a contemplation of the regulated exercise of the speculative and imaginative faculties. But so far as those representations contain unique, grotesque, isolated particulars, their production is accounted for by this general law: In the early stages of human culture, when the natural sensibilities are intensely preponderant in power, and the critical judgment is in abeyance, whatever strongly moves the soul causes a poetical secretion on the part of the imagination.1 Thus the rainbow is personified; a waterfall is supposed to be haunted by spiritual beings; a volcano with fiery crater is seen as a Cyclops with one flaming eye in the centre of his forehead. This law holds not only in relation to impressive objects or appearances in nature, but also in relation to occurrences, traditions, usages. In this way innumerable myths arise, explanatory or amplifying thoughts secreted by the stimulated imagination and then narrated as events. Sometimes these tales are given and received in good faith for truth, as Grote abundantly proves in his volume on Legendary Greece; sometimes they are clearly the gleeful play of the fancy, as when it is said that the hated infant Herakles having been put to Hera's breast as she lay asleep in heaven, she, upon waking, thrust him away, and the lacteal fluid, streaming athwart the firmament, originated the Milky Way! To apply this law to our special subject: 1 Chambers's Papers for the People, vol. i.: The Myth, p. 1. What would be likely to work more powerfully on the minds of a crude, sensitive people, in an early stage of the world, with no elaborate discipline of religious thought, than the facts and phenomena of death? Plainly, around this centre there must be deposited a vast quantity of ideas and fantasies. The task is to discriminate them, trace their individual origin, and classify them. One of the most interesting and difficult questions connected with the subject before us is this: What, in any given time and place, were the limits of the popular belief? How much of the current representations in relation to another life were held as strict verity? What portions were regarded as fable or symbolism? It is obvious enough that among the civilized nations of antiquity the distinctions of literal statement, allegory, historic report, embellished legend, satire, poetic creation, philosophical hypothesis, religious myth, were more or less generally known. For example, when Aschylus makes one of his characters say, "Yonder comes a herald: so Dust, Clay's thirsty sister, tells me," the personification, unquestionably, was as purposed and conscious as it is when a poet in the nineteenth century says, "Thirst dived from the brazen glare of the sky and clutched me by the throat." So, too, when Homer describes the bag of Aolus, the winds, in possession of the sailors on board Ulysses' ship, the half humorous allegory cannot be mistaken for religious faith. It is equally obvious that these distinctions were not always carefully observed, but were often confounded. Therefore, in respect to the faith of primitive times, it is impossible to draw any broad, fixed lines and say conclusively that all on this side was consciously considered as fanciful play or emblem, all on that side as earnest fact. Each particular in each case must be examined by itself and be decided on its own merits by the light and weight of the moral probabilities. For example, if there was any historic basis for the myth of Herakles dragging Cerberus out of Hades, it was that this hero forcibly entered the Mysteries and dragged out to light the enactor of the part of the three headed dog. The aged North man, committing martial suicide rather than die in his peaceful bed, undoubtedly accepted the ensanguined picture of Valhalla as a truth. Virgil, dismissing Aneas from the Tartarean realm through "the ivory gate by which false dreams and fictitious visions are wont to issue," plainly wrought as a poet on imaginative materials. It should be recollected that most of the early peoples had no rigid formularies of faith like the Christian creeds. The writings preserved to us are often rather fragments of individual speculations and hopes than rehearsals of public dogmas. Plato is far from revealing the contemporaneous belief of Greece in the sense in which Thomas Aquinas reveals the contemporaneous belief of Christendom. In Egypt, Persia, Rome, among every cultured people, there were different classes of minds, the philosophers, the priests, the poets, the warriors, the common multitude, whose modes of thinking were in contrast, whose methods of interpreting their ancestral traditions and the phenomena of human destiny were widely apart, whose respective beliefs had far different boundaries. The openly skeptical Euripides and Lucian are to be borne in mind as well as the apparently credulous Hesiod and Homer. Of course the Fables of Asop were not literally credited. Neither, as a general thing, were the Metamorphoses of Ovid. With the ancients, while there was a general national cast of faith, there were likewise varieties of individual and sectarian belief and unbelief, skepticism and credulity, solemn reason and recreative fancy. The people of Lystra, as we read in the Acts of the Apostles, actually thought Barnabas and Paul were Zeus and Hermes, and brought oxen and garlands to offer them the sacrifices appropriate to those deities. Peisistratus obtained rule over Athens by dressing a stately woman, by the name of Phye, as Athene, and passing off her commands as those of the tutelary goddess. Herodotus ridicules the people for unsuspiciously accepting her.2 The incredibleness of a doctrine is no obstacle to a popular belief in it. Whosoever thinks of the earnest reception of the dogma of transubstantiation the conversion of a wheaten wafer into the infinite God by nearly three quarters of Christendom at this moment, must permit the paradox to pass unchallenged. Doubtless the closing eye of many an expiring Greek reflected the pitiless old oarsman plying his frost cold boat across the Stygian ferry, and his failing ear caught the rush of the Phlegethonian surge. It is equally certain that, at the same time, many another laughed at these things as childish fictions, fitted only to scare "the baby of a girl." Stricken memory, yearning emotion, kindled fancy, a sensitive and timorous observation of natural phenomena, rustling leaves, wavering shadows, apparent effects of unknown causes, each is a superstitious mother of beliefs. The Sonora Indians say that departed souls dwell among the caves and rocks of the cliffs, and that the echoes often heard there are their voices. Ruskin suggests that the cause of the Greeks surrounding the lower world residence of Persephone with poplar groves was that "the frailness, fragility, and inconstancy of the leafage of the poplar tree resembled the fancied ghost people." We can very easily imagine how, in the breeze at the entrance to some subterranean descent, "A ghostly rank Of poplars, like a halted train of shades, Trembled." The operations of fierce passions, hate, fright, and rage, in a brain boiling with blood and fire, make pictures which the savage afterwards holds in remembrance as facts. He does not by reflection consciously distinguish the internal acts and sights of the mind from objective verities. Barbarians as travellers and psychologists have repeatedly observed usually pay great attention to the vagaries of madmen, the doings and utterances of the insane. These persons are regarded as possessed by higher beings. Their words are oracles: the horrible shapes, the grotesque scenes, which their disordered and inflamed faculties conjure up, are eagerly caught at, and such accounts of them as they are able to make out are treasured up as revelations. This fact is of no slight importance as an element in the hinting basis of the beliefs of uncultivated tribes. Many a vision of delirium, many a raving medley of insanity, has been accepted as truth.3 Another phenomenon, closely allied to the former, has wrought in a similar manner and still more widely. It has been a common superstition with barbarous nations in every part of the world, from Timbuctoo to Siberia, to suppose that dreams are real 2 Lib. i. cap. 60. 3 De Boismont, Rational History of Hallucinations, ch. 15: Of Hallucinations considered in a Psychological, Historical, and Religious Point of View. adventures which the soul passes through, flying abroad while the body lies, a dormant shell, wrapped in slumber. The power of this influence in nourishing a copious credulity may easily be imagined. The origin of many notions touching a future state, found in literature, is to be traced to those rambling thoughts and poetic reveries with which even the most philosophical minds, in certain moods, indulge themselves. For example, Sir Isaac Newton "doubts whether there be not superior intelligencies who, subject to the Supreme, oversee and control the revolutions of the heavenly bodies." And Goethe, filled with sorrow by the death of Wieland, musing on the fate of his departed friend, solemnly surmised that he had become the soul of a world in some far realm of space. The same mental exercises which supply the barbarian superstitions reappear in disciplined minds, on a higher plane and in more refined forms. Culture and science do not deliver us from all illusion and secure us sober views conformed to fact. Still, what we think amid the solid realities of waking life, fancy in her sleep disjointedly reverberates from hollow fields of dream. The metaphysician or theologian, instead of resting contented with mere snatches and glimpses, sets himself deliberately to reason out a complete theory. In these elaborate efforts many an opinion and metaphor, plausible or absurd, sweet or direful, is born and takes its place. There is in the human mind a natural passion for congruity and completeness, a passion extremely fertile in complementary products. For example, the early Jewish notion of literally sitting down at table with Abraham and Isaac and Jacob, in the resurrection, was gradually developed by accretion of assisting particulars into all the details of a consummate banquet, at which Leviathan was to be the fish, Behemoth the roast, and so on.4 In the construction of doctrines or of discourses, one thought suggests, one premise or conclusion necessitates, another. This genetic application is sometimes plainly to be seen even in parts of incoherent schemes. For instance, the conception that man has returned into this life from anterior experiences of it is met by the opposing fact that he does not remember any preceding career. The explanatory idea is at once hit upon of a fountain of oblivion a river Lethe from which the disembodied soul drinks ere it reappears. Once establish in the popular imagination the conception of the Olympian synod of gods, and a thousand dramatic tales of action and adventure, appropriate to the characters of the divine personages, will inevitably follow. The interest, cunning, and authority of priesthoods are another source of prevailing opinions concerning a life to come. Many nations, early and late, have been quite under the spiritual direction of priests, and have believed almost every thing they said. Numerous motives conspire to make the priest concoct fictions and exert his power to gain credence for them. He must have an alluringly colored elysium to reward his obedient disciples. When his teachings are rejected and his authority mocked, his class isolation and incensed pride find a natural satisfaction in threatening the reprobate aliens that a rain of fire will one day wash them down the smoking gulfs of sulphur. The Maronites, a sect of Catholic Christians in Syria, purchase of their priests a few yards of land in heaven, to secure a residence there when 4 Corrodi, Gesch. des Chiliasmns, th. i. abschn. 15: Gastmahl des Leviathan. they die.5 The Siamese Buddhists accumulate silver and bury it in secret, to supply the needs of the soul during its wandering in the separate state. "This foolish opinion robs the state of immense sums. The lords and rich men erect pyramids over these treasures, and for their greater security place them in charge of the talapoins!"6 When, for some reason or other, either as a matter of neatness and convenience, or as a preventive of mutual clawing, or for some to us unimaginable end, the authoritative Skald wished to induce the Northmen to keep their nails close cut, he devised the awful myth of the ship Nagelfra, and made his raw minded people swallow it as truth. The same process was followed unquestionably in a thousand other cases, in different particulars of thought and aim, in different parts of the world. In a bird's eye survey of the broad field we have traversed, one cannot help noticing the marked influence of the present scenery and habits, history and associations, of a people in deciding the character of their anticipations of the future. The Esquimaux paradise is surrounded by great pots full of boiled walrus meat. The Turk's heaven is a gorgeously idealized pleasure garden or celestial harem. As the apparition of a man wanders into the next state, a shadow of his present state floats over into the future with him. The Hereafter is the image flung by the Now. Heaven and hell are the upward and downward echoes of the earth. Like the spectre of the Brocken on the Hartz Mountains, our ideas of another life are a reflection of our present experience thrown in colossal on the cloud curtains of futurity. Charles Lamb, pushing this elucidating observation much further, says, "The shapings of our heavens are the modifications of our constitutions." A tribe of savages has been described who hoped to go after death to their forefathers in an under ground elysium whose glory consisted in eternal drunkenness, that being their highest conception of bliss and glory. What can be more piteous than the contemplation of those barbarians whose existence here is so wretched that even their imagination and faith have lost all rebound, and who conceive of the land of souls only as poorer and harder than this, expecting to be tasked and beaten there by stronger spirits, and to have nothing to eat? The relation of master and servant, the tyranny of class, is reflected over into the other life in those aristocratic notions which break out frequently in the history of our subject. The Pharisees some of them, at least excluded the rabble from the resurrection. The Peruvians confined their heaven to the nobility. The New Zealanders said the souls of the Atuas, the nobles, were immortal, but the Cookees perished entirely. Meiners declares that the Russians, even so late as the times of Peter the Great, believed that only the Czar and the boyars could reach heaven. It was almost a universal custom among savage nations when a chieftain died to slay his wives and servants, that their ghosts might accompany his to paradise, to wait on him there as here. Even among the Greeks, as Bulwer has well remarked, "the Hades of the ancients was not for the many; and the dwellers of Elysium are chiefly confined to the oligarchy of earth." The coarse and selfish assumption on the part of man of superiority over woman, based on his brawniness and tyranny, has sometimes appeared in the form of an assertion that 5 Churchill, Mt. Lebanon, vol. iii. ch. 7. 6 Pallegoix, Description du Royaume de Siam, ch. xx. p. 113. women have no souls, or at least cannot attain to the highest heaven possible for man. The former statement has been vulgarly attributed to the Moslem creed, but with utter falsity. A pious and aged female disciple once asked Mohammed concerning her future condition in heaven. The prophet replied, "There will not be any old women in heaven." She wept and bewailed her fate, but was comforted upon the gracious assurance from the prophet's lips, "They will all be young again when there." The Buddhists relate that Gotama once directed queen Prajapati, his foster mother, to prove by a miracle the error of those who supposed it impossible for a woman to attain Nirwana. She immediately made as many repetitions of her own form as filled the skies of all the sakwalas, and, after performing various wonders, died and rose into Nirwana, leading after her five hundred virtuous princesses.7 How spontaneously the idiosyncrasies of men in the present are flung across the abysm into the future state is exhibited amusingly, and with a rough pathos, in an old tradition of a dialogue between Saint Patrick and Ossian. The bard contrasts the apostle's pitiful psalms with his own magnificent songs, and says that the virtuous Fingal is enjoying the rewards of his valor in the aerial existence. The saint rejoins, No matter for Fingal's worth; being a pagan, assuredly he roasts in hell. In hot wrath the honest Caledonian poet cries, "If the children of Morni and the tribes of the clan Ovi were alive, we would force brave Fingal out of hell, or the same habitation should be our own."8 Many of the most affecting facts and problems in human experience and destiny have found expression, hypothetic solution, in striking myths preserved in the popular traditions of nations. The mutual resemblances in these legends in some cases, though among far separated peoples, are very significant and impressive. They denote that, moved by similar motives and exercised on the same soliciting themes, human desire and thought naturally find vent in similar theories, stories, and emblems. The imagination of man, as Gfrorer says, runs in ruts which not itself but nature has beaten. The instinctive shrinking from death felt by man would, sooner or later, quite naturally suggest the idea that death was not an original feature in the divine plan of the world, but a retributive additional discord. Benignant nature meant her children should live on in happy contentment here forever; but sin and Satan came in, and death was the vengeance that followed their doings. The Persians fully developed this speculation. The Hebrews either also originated it, or borrowed it from the Persians; and afterwards the Christians adopted it. Traces of the same conception appear among the remotest and rudest nations. The Caribbeans have a myth to the effect that the whole race of men were doomed to be mortal because Carus, the first man, offended the great god Tiri. The Cherokees ascribe to the Great Spirit the intention of making men immortal on earth; but, they say, the sun when he passed over told them there was not room enough, and that people had better die! They also say that the Creator attempted to make the first man and woman out of two stones, but failed, and afterwards fashioned them of clay; and therefore it is that they are perishable.9 The 7 Hardy, Manual of Buddhism, p. 314. 8 Logan, Scottish Gael, ch. xiv. 9 Squier, Serpent Symbol, p. 67, note c. Indians of the Oronoco declare that the Great Spirit dwelt for a while, at first, among men. As he was leaving them, he turned around in his canoe and said, "Ye shall never die, but shall shed your skins." An old woman would not believe what he said; he therefore recalled his promise and vowed that they should die. The thought of more than one death that the composite man is simplified by a series of separating deaths has repeatedly found place. The New Testament speaks of "the second death;" but that is a metaphorical phrase, descriptive, as there employed, of condemnation and suffering. It is a thought of Plato that the Deity put intellect in soul, and soul in a material envelope. Following this hint, Plutarch says, in his essay on the Face in the Moon, that the earth furnishes the body, the moon the soul, the sun the mind. The first death we die, he continues, makes us two from three; the second makes us one from two. The Feejees tell how one of their warriors, seeing the spectre of a recently deceased enemy of his, threw his war club at it and killed it. They believed the spirit itself was thus destroyed. There is something pathetic in this accumulation of dissolution upon dissolution, this pursuit of death after death. We seem to hear, in this thin succession of the ghosts of ghosts, the fainter growing echoes of the body fade away. Many narratives reveal the fond hovering of the human mind over the problem of avoiding death altogether. The Hebrew Scriptures have made us familiar with the translation of Enoch and the ascension of Elijah without tasting death. The Hindus tell of Divadassa, who, as a reward for his exceeding virtue and piety, was permitted to ascend to heaven alive.10 They also say that the good Trisanku, having pleased a god, was elevated in his living body to heaven.11 The Buddhists of Ceylon preserve a legend of the elevation of one of the royal descendants of Maha Sammata to the superior heavens without undergoing death.12 There are Buddhist traditions, furthermore, of four other persons who were taken up to Indra's heaven in their bodies without tasting death, namely, the musician Gattila, and the kings Sadhina, Nirni, and Mandhatu.13 A beautiful myth of the translation of Cyrus is found in Firdousi's Shah Nameh: "Ky Khosru bow'd himself before his God: In the bright water he wash'd his head and his limbs; And he spake to himself the Zend Avesta's prayers; And he turn'd to the friends of his life and exclaim'd, 'Fare ye well, fare ye well for evermore! When to morrow's sun lifts its blazing banner, And the sea is gold, and the land is purple, This world and I shall be parted forever. Ye will never see me again, save in Memory's dreams.'When the sun uplifted his head from the mountain, The king had vanish'd from the eyes of his nobles. They roam'd around in vain attempts to find him; 10 Vans Kennedy, Ancient and Hindu Mythology, p. 431. 11 Vishnu Purana, p. 371. 12 Upham, Sacred Books of Ceylon, vol. i. Introduction, p. 17. 13 Hardy, Manual of Buddhism, p. 25, note. And every one, as he came back to the place, Bade a long farewell to the king of the world. Never hath any one seen such a marvel No, though he live long in the world That a man should go alive into the presence of God." There is a Greek story that Empedocles, "after a sacred festival, was drawn up to heaven in a splendor of celestial effulgence."14 Philostratus relates a tradition of the Cretans, affirming that, Apollonius having entered a temple to worship, a sound was heard as of a chorus of virgins singing, "Come from the earth; come into heaven; come." And he was taken up, never having been seen afterwards. Here may be cited also the exquisite fable of Endymion. Zeus promised to grant what he should request. He begged for immortality, eternal sleep, and never fading youth. Accordingly, in all his surpassing beauty he slumbers on the summit of Latmus, where every night the enamored moon stoops to kiss his spotless forehead. One of the most remarkable fragments in the traditions of the American aborigines is that concerning the final departure of Tarenyawagon, a mythic chief of supernatural knowledge and power, who instructed and united the Iroquois. He sprang across vast chasms between the cliffs, and shot over the lakes with incredible speed, in a spotless white canoe. At last the Master of Breath summoned him. Suddenly the sky was filled with melody. While all eyes were turned up, Tarenyawagon was seen, seated in his snow white canoe, in mid air, rising with every burst of the heavenly music, till he vanished beyond the summer clouds, and all was still.15 Another mythological method of avoidingdeath is by bathing in some immortal fountain. The Greeks tell of Glaucus, who by chance discovered and plunged in a spring of this charmed virtue, but was so chagrined at being unable to point it out to others that he flung himself into the ocean. He could not die, and so became a marine deity, and was annually seen off the headlands sporting with whales. The search for the "Fountain of Youth" by the Spaniards who landed in Florida is well known. How with a vain eagerness did Ponce de Leon, the battered old warrior, seek after the magic wave beneath which he should sink to emerge free from scars and stains, as fresh and fair as when first he donned the knightly harness! Khizer, the Wandering Jew of the East, accompanied Iskander Zulkarnain (the Oriental name for Alexander the Great) in his celebrated expedition to find the fountain of life.16 Zulkarnain, coming to a place where there were three hundred and sixty fountains, despatched three hundred and sixty men, ordering each man to select one of the fountains in which to wash a dry salted fish wherewith he was furnished. The instant Khizer's fish touched the water of the fountain which he had chosen, it sprang away, alive. Khizer leaped in after it and drank. Therefore he cannot die till the last trump sounds. Meanwhile, clad in a green garb, he roams through the world, a personified spring of the year. 14 Lewes, Biographical History of Philosophy, vol. i. p. 135, (1st Eng. edit.) 15 Schoolcraft, Notes on the Iroquois, ch. ix. 16 Adventures of Hatim Tai, p. 125. The same influences which have caused death to be interpreted as a punitive after piece in the creation, and which have invented cases wherein it was set aside, have also fabricated tales of returns from its shrouded realm. The Thracian lover's harp, "drawing iron tears down Pluto's cheek," won his mistress half way to the upper light, and would have wholly redeemed her had he not in impatience looked back. The grim king of Hades, yielding to passionate entreaties, relented so far as to let the hapless Protesilaus return to his mourning Laodameia for three hours. At the swift end of this poor period he died again; and this time she died with him. Erus, who was killed in battle, and Timarchus, whose soul was rapt from him in the cave of Trophonius, both returned, as we read in Plato and Plutarch, to relate with circumstantial detail what they saw in the other world. Alcestis, who so nobly died to save her husband's life, was brought back from the region of the dead, by the interposition of Herakles, to spend happy years with her grateful Admetus. The cunning Sisyphus, who was so notorious for his treachery, by a shrewd plot obtained leave, after his death, to visit the earth again. Safely up in the light, he vowed he would stay; but old Hermes psychopompus forcibly dragged him down. When Columbus landed at San Salvador, the natives thought he had descended from the sun, and by signs inquired if he had not. The Hawaiians took Captain Cook for the god Lono, who was once their king but was afterwards deified, and who had prophesied, as he was dying, that he should in after times return. Te Wharewara, a New Zealand youth, relates a long account of the return of his aunt from the other world, with a minute description of her adventures and observations there.17 Schoolcraft gives a picturesque narrative of a journey made by a Wyandot brave to and from the land of souls.18 There is a group of strangely pleasing myths, closely allied to the two preceding classes, showing how the popular heart and imagination glorify their heroes, and, fondly believing them too godlike to die, fancy them only removed to some secret place, where they still live, and whence in the time of need they will come again to rescue or to bless their people. Greece dreamed that her swift footed Achilles was yet alive in the White Island. Denmark long saw king Holger lingering on the old warrior cairns of his country. Portugal trusted that her beauteous prince Sebastian had escaped from the fatal field to the East, and would one day return to claim his usurped realm.19 So, too, of Roderick the Goth, who fell in disastrous battle with the Arabs, the Visiogothic traditions and faith of the people long insisted that he would reappear. The Swiss herdsmen believe the founders of their confederacy still sleep in a cavern on the shores of Lucerne. When Switzerland is in peril, the Three Tells, slumbering there in their antique garb, will wake to save her. Sweetly and often, the ancient British lays allude to the puissant Arthur borne away to the mystic vales of Avalon, and yet to be hailed in his native kingdom, Excalibur once more gleaming in his hand. The strains of the Troubadours swell and ring as they tell of Charlemagne sleeping beneath 17 Shortland, Traditions of the New Zealanders, p. 128. 18 History, &c. of Indian Tribes, part ii. p. 235. 19 There is a fanatic sect of Sebastianists in Brazil now. See "Brazil and the Brazilians," by Kidier and Fletcher, pp. 519-521. the Untersberg, biding his appointed time to rise, resume his unrivalled sceptre, and glorify the Frank race. And what grand and weird ballads picture great Barbarossa seated in the vaults of Kyffhauser, his beard grown through the stone table in front of him, tarrying till he may come forth, with his minstrels and knights around him, in the crisis hour of Germany's fortunes! The Indians of Pecos, in New Mexico, still anxiously expect the return of Montezuma; while in San Domingo, on the Rio Grande, a sentinel every morning ascends to the top of the highest house, at sunrise, and looks out eastward for the coming of the great chief.20 The peasants of Brittany maintain as a recent traveller testifies that Napoleon is still alive in concealment somewhere, and will one day be heard of or seen in pomp and victory. One other dead man there has been who was expected to return. the hated Nero, the popular horror of whom shows itself in the shuddering belief expressed in the Apocalypse and in the Sibylline Oracles that he was still alive and would reappear.21 Alian, in his Various History, recounts the following singular circumstances concerning the Meropes who inhabited the valley of Anostan.22 It would seem to prove that no possible conceit of speculation pertaining to our subject has been unthought of. A river of grief and a river of pleasure, he says, lapsed through the valley, their banks covered with trees. If one ate of the fruit growing on the trees beside the former stream, he burst into a flood of tears and wept till he died. But if he partook of that hanging on the shore of the latter, his bliss was so great that he forgot all desires; and, strangest of all, he returned over the track of life to youth and infancy, and then gently expired. He turned "Into his yesterdays, and wander'd back To distant childhood, and went out to God By the gate of birth, not death." Mohammed, during his night journey, saw, in the lower heaven, Adam, the father of mankind, a majestic old man, with all his posterity who were destined for paradise on one side, and all who were destined for hell on the other. When he looked on the right he smiled and rejoiced, but as often as he looked on the left he mourned and wept. How finely this reveals the stupendous pathos there is in the theological conception of a Federal Head of humanity! The idea of a great terminal crisis is met with so often in reviewing the history of human efforts to grasp and solve the problem of the world's destiny, that we must consider it a normal concomitant of such theorizings. The mind reels and loses itself in trying to conceive of the everlasting continuance of the present order, or of any one fixed course of things, but finds relief in the notion of a revolution, an end, and a fresh start. The Mexican Cataclysm or universal crash, the close of the Hindu Calpa, the Persian Resurrection, the Stoic Conflagration, the Scandinavian Ragnarokur, the Christian Day of Judgment, all embody this one thought. The Drama of Humanity is played out, the curtain falls, and when it rises again 20 Abbe Domenech's Seven Years' Residence in the Great Deserts of North America; Vol. I. ch. viii. 21 Stuart, Commentary on the Apocalypse: Excursus upon ch. xiii. v. 18. 22 Lib. iii. cap. 18. all is commenced afresh. The clock of creation runs down and has to be wound up anew. The Brahmans are now expecting the tenth avatar of Vishnu. The Parsees look for Sosiosch to come, to consummate the triumph of good, and to raise the dead upon a renewed earth. The Buddhists await the birth of Maitri Buddha, who is tarrying in the dewa loka Tusita until the time of his advent upon earth. The Jews are praying for the appearance of the Messiah. And many Christians affirm that the second advent of Jesus draws nigh. One more fact, even in a hasty survey of some of the most peculiar opinions current in bygone times as to a future life, can scarcely fail to attract notice. It is the so constant linking of the soul's fate with the skyey spaces and the stars, in fond explorings and astrologic dreams. Nowhere are the kingly greatness and the immortal aspiring of man more finely shown. The loadstone of his destiny and the prophetic gravitation of his thoughts are upward, into the eternal bosom of heaven's infinite hospitality. "Ye stars, which are the poetry of heaven! If in your bright leaves we would read the fate Of men and empires, 'tis to be forgiven, That, in our aspirations to be great, Our destinies o'erleap their mortal state And claim a kindred with you; for ye are A beauty and a mystery, and create In us such love and reverence from afar That fortune, fame, power, life, have named themselves a star." What an immeasurable contrast between the dying Cherokee, who would leap into heaven with a war whoop on his tongue and a string of scalps in his hand, and the dying Christian, who sublimely murmurs, "Father, into thy hands I commit my spirit!" What a sweep of thought, from the poor woman whose pious notion of heaven was that it was a place where she could sit all day in a clean white apron and sing psalms, to the far seeing and sympathetic natural philosopher whose loving faith embraces all ranks of creatures and who conceives of paradise as a spiritual concert of the combined worlds with all their inhabitants in presence of their Creator! Yet from the explanatory considerations which have been set forth we can understand the derivation of the multifarious swarm of notions afloat in the world, as the fifteen hundred varieties of apple now known have all been derived from the solitary white crab. Differences of fancy and opinion among men are as natural as fancies and opinions are. The mind of a people grows from the earth of its deposited history, but breathes in the air of its living literature.23 By his philosophic learning and poetic sympathy the cosmopolitan scholar wins the last victory of mind over matter, frees himself from local conditions and temporal tinges, and, under the light of universal truth, traces, through the causal influences of soil and clime and history, and the colored threads of great individualities, the formation of peculiar national creeds. Through sense the barbarian mind feeds on the raw pabulum furnished by the immediate phenomena of the world and of its own life. Through culture the civilized mind feeds on the elaborated substance of literature, 23 Schouw, Earth, Plants, and Man, ch. xxx. science, and art. Plants eat inorganic, animals eat organized, material. The ignorant man lives on sensations obtained directly from nature; the educated man lives also on sensations obtained from the symbols of other people's sensations. The illiterate savage hunts for his mental living in the wild forest of consciousness; the erudite philosopher lives also on the psychical stores of foregone men. NOTE. To the ten instances, stated on pages 210, 211, of remarkable men who after their death were popularly imagined to be still alive, and destined to appear again, an eleventh may be added. The Indians of Pecos, in New Mexico, anxiously expect the return of Montezuma. In San Domingo, on the Rio Grande, a sentinel every morning ascends to the roof of the highest house at sunrise and looks out eastward for the coming of the great chief. See the Abbe Domenech's "Seven Years' Residence in the Great Deserts of North America," vol. ii. ch. viii. PART THIRD. NEW TESTAMENT TEACHINGS CONCERNING AFUTURE LIFE. CHAPTER I. PETER'S DOCTRINE OF A FUTURE LIFE. IN entering upon an investigation of the thoughts of the New Testament writers concerning the fate of man after his bodily dissolution, we may commence by glancing at the various allusions contained in the record to opinions on this subject prevalent at the time of the Savior or immediately afterwards, but which formed no part of his religion, or were mixed with mistakes. There are several incidents recorded in the Gospels which show that a belief in the transmigration of the soul was received among the Jews. As Jesus was passing near Siloam with his disciples, he saw a man who had been blind from his birth; and the disciples said to him, "Master, who did sin, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?" The drift of this question is, Did the parents of this man commit some great crime, for which they were punished by having their child born blind, or did he come into the world under this calamity in expiation of the iniquities of a previous life? Jesus denies the doctrine involved in this interrogation, at least, as far as his reply touches it at all; for he rarely enters into any discussion or refutation of incidental errors. He says, Neither hath this man sinned nor his parents as the cause of his blindness; but the regular workings of the laws of God are made manifest in him: moreover, it is a providential occasion offered me that I should show the divinity of my mission by giving him sight. When Herod heard of the miracles and the fame of Jesus, he said, This is John the Baptist, whom I beheaded: he is risen from the dead; and therefore mighty works are wrought by him. This brief statement plainly shows that the belief in the reappearance of a departed spirit, in bodily form, to run another career, was extant in Judea at that period. The Evangelists relate another circumstance to the same effect. Jesus asked his disciples who the people thought he was. And they replied, Some think that thou art John the Baptist, some Elias, and some Jeremiah or some other of the old prophets, a forerunner of the Messiah. Then Jesus asked, But who think ye that I am? And Simon Peter said, Thou art the promised Messiah himself. There was a prophetic tradition among the Jews, drawn from the words of Malachi, that before the Messiah was revealed Elias would appear and proclaim his coming. Therefore, when the disciples of Christ recognised him as the great Anointed, they were troubled about this prophecy, and said to their Master, Why do the Scribes say that Elias must first come? He replies to them, in substance, It is even so: the prophet's words shall not fail: they are already fulfilled. But you must interpret the prophecy aright. It does not mean that the ancient prophet himself, in physical form, shall come upon earth, but that one with his office, in his spirit and power, shall go before me. If ye are able to understand the true import of the promise, it has been realized. John the Baptist is the Elias which was to come. The New Testament, therefore, has allusions to the doctrine of transmigration, but gives it no warrant. The Jewish expectations in regard to the Messiah, the nature of his kingdom, and the events which they supposed would attend his coming or transpire during his reign, were the source and foundation of the phraseology of a great many passages in the Christian Scriptures and of the sense of not a few. The national ideas and hopes of the Jews at that time were singularly intense and extensive. Their influence over the immediate disciples of Jesus and the authors of the New Testament is often very evident in the interpretations they put upon his teachings, and in their own words. Still, their intellectual and spiritual obtuseness to the true drift of their Master's thoughts was not so great, their mistakes are neither so numerous nor so gross, as it is frequently supposed they were. This is proved by the fact that when they use the language of the Messianic expectations of the Jews in their writings they often do it, not in the material, but in a spiritual sense. When they first came under the instruction of Jesus, they were fully imbued with the common notions of their nation and age. By his influence their ideas were slowly and with great difficulty spiritualized and made to approach his own in some degree. But it is unquestionably true that they never not even after his death arrived at a clear appreciation of the full sublimity, the pure spirituality, the ultimate significance, of his mission and his words. Still, they did cast off and rise above the grossly carnal expectations of their countrymen. Partially instructed in the spiritual nature of Christ's kingdom, and partially biassed by their Jewish prepossessions, they interpreted a part of his language figuratively, according to his real meaning, and a part of it literally, according to their own notions. The result of this was several doctrines neither taught by Christ nor held by the Jews, but formed by conjoining and elaborating a portion of the conceptions of both. These doctrines are to be found in the New Testament; but it should be distinctly understood that the religion of Christ is not responsible for them, is to be separated from them. The fundamental and pervading aim of that epistle of Peter the genuineness of which is unquestioned and the same is true in a great degree of his speeches recorded in the Acts of the Apostles is to exhort the Christians to whom it is written to purify themselves by faith, love, and good works; to stand firmly amidst all their tribulations, supported by the expectations and prepared to meet the conditions of a glorious life in heaven at the close of this life. Eschatology, the doctrine of the Last Things, with its practical inferences, all inseparably interwoven with the mission of Christ, forms the basis and scope of the whole document. Peter believed that when Christ had been put to death his spirit, surviving, descended into the separate state of departed souls. Having cited from the sixteenth Psalm the declaration, "Thou wilt not leave my soul in the under world," he says it was a prophecy concerning Christ, which was fulfilled in his resurrection. "The soul of this Jesus was not left in the under world, but God hath raised him up, whereof we all are witnesses." When it is written that his soul was not left in the subterranean abode of disembodied spirits, of course the inference cannot be avoided that it was supposed to have been there for a time. In the next place, we are warranted by several considerations in asserting that Peter believed that down there, in the gloomy realm of shades, were gathered and detained the souls of all the dead generations. We attribute this view to Peter from the combined force of the following reasons: because such was, notoriously, the belief of his ancestral and contemporary countrymen; because he speaks of the resurrection of Jesus as if it were a wonderful prophecy or unparalleled miracle, a signal and most significant exception to the universal law; because he says expressly of David that "he is not yet ascended into the heavens," and if David was still retained below, undoubtedly all were; because the same doctrine is plainly inculcated by other of the New Testament writers; and, finally, because Peter himself, in another part of this epistle, declares, in unequivocal terms, that the soul of Christ went and preached to the souls confined in the under world, for such is the perspicuous meaning of the famous text, "being put to death in the body, but kept alive in the soul, in which also he went and preached [went as a herald] to the spirits in prison." The meaning we have attributed to this celebrated passage is the simple and consistent explanation of the words and the context, and is what must have been conveyed to those familiar with the received opinions of that time. Accordingly, we find that, with the exception of Augustine, it was so understood and interpreted by the whole body of the Fathers.1 It is likewise so held now by an immense majority of the most authoritative modern commentators. Rosenmuller says, in his commentary on this text, "That by the spirits in prison is meant souls of men separated from their bodies and detained as in custody in the under world, which the Greeks call Hades, the Hebrews Sheol, can hardly be doubted," (vix dubitari posse videtur.) Such has ever been and still is the common conclusion of nearly all the best critical theologians, as volumes of citations might easily be made to show. The reasons which led Augustine to give a different exposition of the text before us are such as should make, in this case, even his great name have little or no weight. He firmly held, as revealed and unquestionable truth,2 the whole doctrine which we maintain is implied in the present passage; but he was so perplexed by certain difficult queries3 as to locality and method and circumstance, addressed to him with reference to this text, that he, waveringly, and at last, gave it an allegorical interpretation. His exegesis is not only arbitrary and opposed to the catholic doctrine of the Church; it is also so far fetched and forced as to be destitute of 1 See, for example, Clem. Alex. Stromata, lib. vi.; Cyprian, Test. adv. Judaos, lib. ii. cap. 27, Lactantius, Divin. Instit. lib. vii. cap. 20. 2 Epist. XCIX. 3 Ibid. plausibility. He says the spirits in prison may be the souls of men confined in their bodies here in this life, to preach to whom Christ came from heaven. But the careful reader will observe that Peter speaks as if the spirits were collected and kept in one common custody, refers to the spirits of a generation long ago departed to the dead, and represents the preaching as taking place in the interval between Christ's death and his resurrection. A glance from the eighteenth to the twenty second verse inclusive shows indisputably that the order of events narrated by the apostle is this: First, Christ was put to death in the flesh, suffering for sins, the just for the unjust; secondly, he was quickened in the spirit; thirdly, he went and preached to the spirits in prison; fourthly, he rose from the dead; fifthly, he ascended into heaven. How is it possible for any one to doubt that the text under consideration teaches his subterranean mission during the period of his bodily burial? In the exposition of the Apostles' Creed put forth by the Church of England under Edward VI., this text in Peter was referred to as an authoritative proof of the article on Christ's descent into the under world; and when, some years later, thatreference was stricken out, notoriously it was not because the Episcopal rulers were convinced of a mistake, but because they had become afraid of the associated Romish doctrine of purgatory. If Peter believed as he undoubtedly did that Christ after his crucifixion descended to the place of departed spirits, what did he suppose was the object of that descent? Calvin's theory was that he went into hell in order that he might there suffer vicariously the accumulated agonies due to the LOST, thus placating the just wrath of the Father and purchasing the release of the elect. A sufficient refutation of that dogma, as to its philosophical basis, is found in its immorality, its forensic technicality. As a mode of explaining the Scriptures, it is refuted by the fact that it is nowhere plainly stated in the New Testament, but is arbitrarily constructed by forced and indirect inferences from various obscure texts, which texts can be perfectly explained without involving it at all. For what purpose, then, was it thought that Jesus went to the imprisoned souls of the under world? The most natural supposition the conception most in harmony with the character and details of the rest of the scheme and with the prevailing thought of the time would be that he went there to rescue the captives from their sepulchral bondage, to conquer death and the devil in their own domain, open the doors, break the chains, proclaim good tidings of coming redemption to the spirits in prison, and, rising thence, to ascend to heaven, preparing the way for them to follow with him at his expected return. This, indeed, is the doctrine of the Judaizing apostles, the unbroken catholic doctrine of the Church. Paul writes to the Colossians, and to the Ephesians, that, when Christ "had spoiled the principalities and powers" of the world of the dead, "he ascended up on high, leading a multitude of captives." Peter himself declares, a little farther on in his epistle, "that the glad tidings were preached to the dead, that, though they had been persecuted and condemned in the flesh by the will of men, they might be blessed in the spirit by the will of God."4 Christ fulfilled the law of 4 See Rosenmuller's explanation in hoc loco. death,5 descending to the place of separate spirits, that he might declare deliverance to the quick and the dead by coming triumphantly back and going into heaven, an evident token of the removal of the penalty of sin which hitherto had fatally doomed all men to the under world.6 Let us see if this will not enable us to explain Peter's language satisfactorily. Death, with the lower residence succeeding it, let it be remembered, was, according to the Jewish and apostolic belief, the fruit of sin, the judgment pronounced on sin. But Christ, Peter says, was sinless. "He was a lamb without blemish and without spot." "He did no sin, neither was guile found in his mouth." Therefore he was not exposed to death and the under world on his own account. Consequently, when it is written that "he bore our sins in his own body on the tree," that "he suffered for sins, the just for the unjust," in order to give the words their clear, full meaning it is not necessary to attribute to them the sense of a vicarious sacrifice offered to quench the anger of God or to furnish compensation for a broken commandment; but this sense, namely, that although in his sinlessness he was exempt from death, yet he "suffered for us," he voluntarily died, thus undergoing for our sakes that which was to others the penalty of their sin. The object of his dying was not to conciliate the alienated Father or to adjust the unbalanced law: it was to descend into the realm of the dead, heralding God's pardon to the captives, and to return and rise into heaven, opening and showing to his disciples the way thither. For, owing to his moral sinlessness, or to his delegated omnipotence, if he were once in the abode of the dead, he must return: nothing could keep him there. Epiphanius describes the devil complaining, after Christ had burst through his nets and dungeons, "Miserable me! what shall I do? I did not know God was concealed in that body. The son of Mary has deceived me. I imagined he was a mere man."7 In an apocryphal writing of very early date, which shows some of the opinions abroad at that time, one of the chief devils, after Christ had appeared in hell, cleaving its grisly prisons from top to bottom and releasing the captives, is represented upbraiding Satan in these terms: "O prince of all evil, author of death, why didst thou crucify and bring down to our regions a person righteous and sinless? Thereby thou hast lost all the sinners of the world."8 Again, in an ancient treatise on the Apostles' Creed, we read as follows: "In the bait of Christ's flesh was secretly inserted the hook of his divinity. This the devil knew not, but, supposing he must stay when he was 5 See King's History of the Apostles' Creed, 3d ed., pp. 234-239. "The purpose of Christ's descent was to undergo the laws of death, pass through the whole experience of man, conquer the devil, break the fetters of the captives, and fix a time for their resurrection." To the same effect, old Hilary, Bishop of Poictiers, in his commentary on Psalm cxxxviii., says, "It is a law of human necessity that, the body being buried, the soul should descend ad interos." 6 Ambrose, De Fide, etc., lib. iv. cap. 1, declares that "no one ascended to heaven until Christ, by the pledge of his resurrection, solved the chains of the under world and translated the souls of the pious." Also Cyril, Bishop of Jerusalem, in his fourth catechetical lecture, sect. 11, affirms "that Christ descended into the under world to deliver those who, from Adam downwards, had been imprisoned there." 7 In Assumptionem Christi. 8 Evan. Nicodemi, cap. xviii. devoured, greedily swallowed the corpse, and the bolts of the nether world were wrenched asunder, and the ensnared dragon himself dragged from the abyss."9 Peter himself explicitly declares, "It was not possible that he should be held by death." Theodoret says, "Whoever denies the resurrection of Christ rejects his death."10 If he died, he must needs rise again. And his resurrection would demonstrate the forgiveness of sins, the opening of heaven to men, showing that the bond which had bound in despair the captives in the regions of death for so many voiceless ages was at last broken. Accordingly, "God, having loosed the chains of the under world, raised him up and set him at his own right hand."11 And now the question, narrowed down to the smallest compass, is this: What is the precise, real signification of the sacrificial and other connected terms employed by Peter, those phrases which now, by the intense associations of a long time, convey so strong a Calvinistic sense to most readers? Peter says, "Ye know that ye were redeemed with the precious blood of Christ." If there were not so much indeterminateness of thought, so much unthinking reception of traditional, confused impressions of Scripture texts, it would be superfluous to observe that by the word blood here, and in all parallel passages, is meant simply and literally death: the mere blood, the mere shedding of the blood, of Christ, of course, could have no virtue, no moral efficacy, of any sort. When the infuriated Jews cried, "His blood be on us, and on our children!" they meant, Let the responsibility of his death rest on us. When the English historian says, "Sidney gave his blood for the cause of civil liberty," the meaning is, he died for it. So, no one will deny, whenever the New Testament speaks in any way of redemption by the blood of the crucified Son of Man, the unquestionable meaning is, redemption by his death. What, then, does the phrase "redemption by the death of Christ" mean? Let it be noted here let it be particularly noticed that the New Testament nowhere in explicit terms explains the meaning of this and the kindred phrases: it simply uses the phrases without interpreting them. They are rhetorical figures of speech, necessarily, upon whatever theological system we regard them. No sinner is literally washed from his transgressions and guilt in the blood of the slaughtered Lamb. These expressions, then, are poetic images, meant to convey a truth in the language of association and feeling, the traditionary language of imagination. The determination of their precise significance is wholly a matter of fallible human construction and inference, and not a matter of inspired statement or divine revelation. This is so, beyond a question, because, we repeat, they are figures of speech, having no direct explanation in the records where they occur. The Calvinistic view of the atonement was a theory devised to explain this scriptural language. It was devised without sufficient consideration of the peculiar notions and spirit, the peculiar grade of culture, and the time, from which that language sprang. We freely admit the inadequacy of the Unitarian 9 Ruffinus, Expos. in Symb. Apost. 10 Comm. in 2 Tim. ii. 19. 11 By a mistake and a false reading, the common version has "the pains of death," instead of "the chains of the under world." The sense requires the latter. Besides, numerous manuscripts read [non ASCII characters]. See, furthermore, Rosenmuller's thorough criticism in loc. Likewise see Robinson's New Testament Greek Lexicon, in [NAC]. doctrine of the atonement to explain the figures of speech in which the apostles declare their doctrine. But, since the Calvinistic scheme was devised by human thought to explain the New Testament language, any scheme which explains that language as well has equal Scripture claims to credence; any which better explains it, with sharper, broader meaning and fewer difficulties, has superior claims to be received. We are now prepared to state what we believe was the meaning originally associated with, and meant to be conveyed by, the phrases equivalent to "redemption by the death of Christ." In consequence of sin, the souls of all mankind, after leaving the body, were shut up in the oblivious gloom of the under world. Christ alone, by virtue of his perfect holiness, was not subject to any part of this fate. But, in fulfilment of the Father's gracious designs, he willingly submitted, upon leaving the body, to go among the dead, that he might declare the good tidings to them, and burst the bars of darkness, and return to life, and rise into heaven as a pledge of the future translation of the faithful to that celestial world, instead of their banishment into the dismal bondage below, as hitherto. The death of Christ, then, was the redemption of sinners, in that his death implied his ascent, "because it was not possible that he should be holden of death;" and his ascension visibly demonstrated the truth that God had forgiven men their sins and would receive their souls to his own abode on high. Three very strong confirmations of the correctness of this interpretation are afforded in the declarations of Peter. First, he never even hints, in the faintest manner, that the death of Christ was to have any effect on God, any power to change his feeling or his government. It was not to make a purchasing expiation for sins and thus to reconcile God to us; but it was, by a revelation of the Father's freely pardoning love, to give us penitence, purification, confidence, and a regenerating piety, and so to reconcile us to God. He says in one place, in emphatic words, that the express purpose of Christ's death was simply "that he might lead us to God." In the same strain, in another place, he defines the object of Christ's death to be "that we, being delivered from sins, should live unto righteousness." It is plain that in literal reality he refers our marvellous salvation to the voluntary goodness of God, and not to any vicarious ransom paid in the sacrifice of Christ, when he says, "The God of all grace hath called us unto his eternal glory by Jesus Christ." The death of Christ was not, then, to appease the fierce justice of God by rectifying the claims of his inexorable law, but it was to call out and establish in men all moral virtues by the power of faith in the sure gift of eternal life sealed to them through the ascension of the Savior. For, secondly, the practical inferences drawn by Peter from the death of Christ, and the exhortations founded upon it, are inconsistent with the prevailing theory of the atonement. Upon that view the apostle would have said, "Christ has paid the debt and secured a seat in heaven for you, elected ones: therefore believe in the sufficiency of his offerings, and exult." But not so. He calls on us in this wise: "Forasmuch as Christ hath suffered for us, arm yourselves with the same mind." "Christ suffered for you, leaving an example that ye should follow his steps." The whole burden of his practical argument based on the mission of Christ is, the obligation of a religious spirit and of pure morals. He does not speak, as many modern sectarists have spoken, of the "filthy rags of righteousness;" but he says, "Live no longer in sins," "have a meek and quiet spirit, which is in the sight of God of great price," "be ye holy in all manner of conversation," "purify your souls by obedience to the truth," "be ye a holy priesthood to offer up spiritual sacrifices," "have a good conscience," "avoid evil and do good," "above all, have fervent love, for love will cover a multitude of sins." No candid person can peruse the epistle and not see that the great moral deduced in it from the mission of Christ is this: Since heaven is offered you, strive by personal virtue to be prepared for it at the judgment which shall soon come. The disciple is not told to trust in the merits of Jesus; but he is urged to "abstain from evil," and "sanctify the Lord God in his heart," and "love the brethren," and "obey the laws," and "do well," "girding up the loins of his mind in sobriety and hope." This is not Calvinism. The third fortification of this exposition is furnished by the following fact. According to our view, the death of Christ is emphasized, not on account of any importance in itself, but as the necessary condition preliminary to his resurrection, the humiliating prelude to his glorious ascent into heaven. The really essential, significant thing is not his suffering, vicarious death, but his triumphing, typical ascension. Now, the plain, repeated statements of Peter strikingly coincide with this representation. He says, "God raised Christ up from the dead, and gave him glory, [that is, received him into heaven,] that your faith and hope might be in God." Again he writes, "Blessed be God, who according to his abundant mercy hath begotten us again unto a lively hope by the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead unto an incorruptible inheritance in heaven." Still again, he declares that "the figure of baptism, signifying thereby the answer of a good conscience toward God, saves us by the resurrection of Jesus Christ, who is gone into heaven." According to the commonly received doctrine, instead of these last words the apostle ought to have said, "saves us by the death of him who suffered in expiation of our sins." He does not say so. Finally, in the intrepid speech that Peter made before the Jewish council, referring to their wicked crucifixion of Jesus, he says, "Him hath God raised up to his own right hand, to be a Leader and a Savior, to give repentance to Israel and forgiveness of sins." How plainly remission of sins is here predicated, not through Christ's ignominious suffering, but through his heavenly exaltation! That exaltation showed in dramatic proof that by God's grace the dominion of the lower world was about to be broken and an access to the celestial world to be vouchsafed. If Christ bought off our merited punishment and earned our acceptance, then salvation can no more be "reckoned of grace, but of debt." But the whole New Testament doctrine is, "that sinners are justified freely through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus." "The redemption that is in Christ"! Take these words literally, and they yield no intelligible meaning. The sense intended to be conveyed or suggested by them depends on interpretation; and here disagreement arises. The Calvinist says they mean the redemption undertaken, achieved, by Christ. We say they mean the redemption proclaimed, brought to light, by Christ. The latter explanation is as close to the language as the former. Neither is unequivocally established by the statement itself. We ought therefore to adopt the one which is at once most rational and plausible in itself, and most in harmony with the peculiar opinions and culture of the person by whom, and of the time when, the document was written. All these considerations, historical, philosophical, and moral, undeniably favor our interpretation, leaving nothing to support the other save the popular theological belief of modern Protestant Christendom, a belief which is the gradual product of a few great, mistaken teachers like Augustine and Calvin. We do not find the slightest difficulty in explaining sharply and broadly, with all its niceties of phraseology, each one of the texts urged in behalf of the prevalent doctrine of the atonement, without involving the essential features of that doctrine. Three demonstrable assertions of fact afford us all the requisite materials. First, it was a prevalent belief with the Jews, that, since death was the penalty of sin, the suffering of death was in itself expiatory of the sins of the dying man.12 Lightfoot says, "It is a common and most known doctrine of the Talmudists, that repentance and ritual sacrifice expiate some sins, death the rest. Death wipes off all unexpiated sins."13 Tholuck says, "It was a Jewish opinion that the death of the just atoned for the people."14 He quotes from the Talmud an explicit assertion to that effect, and refers to several learned authorities for further citations and confirmations. Secondly, the apostles conceived Christ to be sinless, and consequently not on his own account exposed to death and subject to Hades. If, then, death was an atonement for sins, and he was sinless, his voluntary death was expiatory for the sins of the world; not in an arbitrary and unheard of way, according to the Calvinistic scheme, but in the common way, according to a Pharisaic notion. And thirdly, it was partly a Jewish expectation concerning the Messiah that he would,15 and partly an apostolic conviction concerning Christ that he did, break the bolts of the old Hadean prison and open the way for human ascent to heaven. As Jerome says, "Before Christ Abraham was in hell, after Christ the crucified thief was in paradise;"16 for "until the advent of Christ all alike went down into the under world, heaven being shut until Christ threw aside the flaming sword that turned every way."17 These three thoughts that death is the expiatory penalty of sin, that Christ was himself sinless, that he died as God's envoy to release the prisoners of gloom and be their pioneer to bliss leave nothing to be desired in explaining the sacrificial terms and kindred phrases employed by the apostles in reference to his mission. Without question, Peter, like his companions, looked for the speedy return of Christ from heaven to judge all, and to save the worthy. Indications of this belief are numerously afforded in his words. "The end of all things is at hand: be ye therefore sober and watch unto prayer." "You shall give account to him that is ready to judge the quick and the dead." Here the common idea of that time namely, that the resurrection of the captives of the 12 Witsius, Dissertatio de Seculo hoc et futuro, sect. 8. 13 Lightfoot on Matt. xii. 32. 14 Comm. on John i. 29. 15 "God shall liberate the Israelites from the under world." Bertholdt's Christologia Judaorum, sect. xxxiv., (De descensu Messia ad Inferos,) note 2. "The captives shall ascend from the under world, Shechinah at their head." Schoettgen de Messia, lib. vi. cap. 5, sect. 1. 16 See his Letter to Heliodorus, Epiat. XXXV., Benedict. ed. 17 Comm. in Eccles. cap. iii. 21, et cap. ix. under world would occur at the return of Christ is undoubtedly implied. "Salvation is now ready to be revealed in the last time." "That your faith may be found unto praise and honor and glory at the appearing of Jesus Christ." "Be sober, and hope to the end for the grace that is to be brought unto you at the revelation of Jesus Christ." "Be ye examples to the flock, and when the chief Shepherd shall appear ye shall receive an unfading crown of glory." "God shall send Jesus Christ, . . . whom the heavens must receive until the times of the restitution of all things." It is evident that the author of these passages expected the second coming of the Lord Jesus to consummate the affairs of his kingdom. If the apostle had formed definite conclusions as to the final fate of unbelieving, wicked, reprobate men, he has not stated them. He undeniably implies certain general facts upon the subject, but leaves all the details in obscurity. He adjures his readers with exceeding earnestness he over and over again adjures them to forsake every manner of sinful life, to strive for every kind of righteous conversation, that by faith and goodness they may receive the salvation of their souls. He must have supposed an opposite fate in some sort to impend over those who did otherwise, rejecting Christ, "revelling in lasciviousness and idolatry." Everywhere he makes the distinction between the faithful and the wicked prominent, and presents the idea that Christ shall come to judge them both, and shall reward the former with gladness, crowns, and glory; while it is just as clearly implied as if he had said it that the latter shall be condemned and punished. When a judge sits in trial on the good and the bad, and accepts those, plainly the inference is that he rejects these, unless the contrary be stated. What their doom is in its nature, what in its duration, is neither declared, nor inferrible from what is declared. All that the writer says on this point is substantially repeated or contained in the fourth chapter of his epistle, from verses 12 to 19. A slight explanatory paraphrase of it will make the position clear so far as it can be made clear. "Christian believers, in the fiery trials which are to try you, stand firm, even rejoicing that you are fellow sufferers with Christ, a pledge that when his glory is revealed you shall partake of it with him. See to it that you are free from crime, free from sins for which you ought to suffer; then, if persecuted and slain for your Christian profession and virtues, falter not. The terrible time preceding the second advent of your Master is at hand. The sufferings of that time will begin with the Christian household; but how much more dreadful will be the sufferings of the close of that time among the disobedient that spurn the gospel of God! If the righteous shall with great difficulty be snatched from the perils and woes encompassing that time, surely it will happen very much worse with ungodly sinners. Therefore let all who suffer in obedience to God commit the keeping of their souls to him in well doing." The souls of men were confined in the under world for sin. Christ came to turn men from sin and despair to holiness and a reconciling faith in God. He went to the dead to declare to them the good tidings of pardon and approaching deliverance through the free grace of God. He rose into heaven to demonstrate and visibly exhibit the redemption of men from the under world doom of sinners. He was soon to return to the earth to complete the unfinished work of his commissioned kingdom. His accepted ones should then be taken to glory and reward. The rejected ones should Their fate is left in gloom, without a definite clew. CHAPTER II. DOCTRINE OF A FUTURE LIFE IN THE EPISTLE TO THE HEBREWS. THE Epistle to the Hebrews was written by some person who was originally a Jew, afterwards a zealous Christian. He was unquestionably a man of remarkable talent and eloquence and of lofty religious views and feelings. He lived in the time of the immediate followers of Jesus, and apparently was acquainted with them. The individual authorship it is now impossible to determine with certainty. Many of the most learned, unprejudiced, and able critics have ascribed it to Apollos, an Alexandrian Jew, a compeer of Paul and a fellow citizen of Philo. This opinion is more probable than any other. Indeed, so numerous are the resemblances of thoughts and words in the writings of Philo to those in this epistle, that even the wild conjecture has been hazarded that Philo himself at last became a Christian and wrote to his Hebrew countrymen the essay which has since commonly passed for Paul's. No one can examine the hundreds of illustrations of the epistle gathered from Philo by Carpzov, in his learned but ill reasoned work, without being greatly impressed. The supposition which has repeatedly been accepted and urged, that this composition was first written in Hebrew, and afterwards translated into Greek by another person, is absurd, in view of the masterly skill and eloquence, critical niceties, and felicities in the use of language, displayed in it. We could easily fill a paragraph with the names of those eminent in the Church such as Tertullian, Hippolytus, Erasmus, Luther, Le Clerc, and Neander who have concluded that, whoever the author of the Epistle to the Hebrews was, he was not Paul. The list of those names would reach from the Egyptian Origen, whose candor and erudition were without parallel in his age, to the German Bleek, whose masterly and exhaustive work is a monument of united talent and toil, leaving little to be desired. It is not within our present aim to argue this point: we will therefore simply refer the reader to the thorough and unanswerable discussion and settlement of it by Norton.1 The general object of the composition is, by showing the superiority of the Christian system to the Hebrew, to arm the converts from Judaism to whom it is addressed against the temptations to desert the fulfilling faith of Christ and to return to the emblematic faith of their fathers. This aim gives a pervading cast and color to the entire treatment to the reasoning and especially to the chosen imagery of the epistle. Omitting, for the most part, whatever is not essentially interwoven with the subject of death, the resurrection, and future existence, and with the mission of Christ in relation to those subjects, we advance to the consideration of the views which the epistle presents or implies concerning those points. It is to be premised that we are forced to construct from fragments and hints the theological fabric that stood in the mind of the writer. The suggestion also is quite obvious that, since the letter is addressed solely to the Hebrews and describes Christianity as the completion of 1 Christian Examiner, vols. for 1827 29. Judaism, an acquaintance with the characteristic Hebrew opinions and hopes at that time may be indispensable for a full comprehension of its contents. The view of the intrinsic nature and rank of Christ on which the epistle rests seems very plainly to be that great Logos doctrine which floated in the philosophy of the apostolic age and is so fully developed in the Gospel of John: "The Logos of God, alive, energetic, irresistibly piercing, to whose eyes all things are bare and open;" "first begotten of God;" "faithful to Him that made him;" inferior to God, superior to all beside; "by whom God made the worlds;" whose seat is at the right hand of God, the angels looking up to him, and "the world to come put in subjection to him." The author, thus assuming the immensely super human rank and the pre existence of Christ, teaches that, by the good will of God, he descended to the world in the form of a man, to save them that were without faith and in fear, them that were lost through sin. God "bringeth in the first begotten into the world." "When he cometh into the world he saith, Sacrifice and offering thou wouldest not, but a body hast thou prepared for me." "Jesus was made a little while inferior to the angels." "Forasmuch, then, as the children are partakers of flesh and blood, he also himself likewise partook of the same;" that is, in order to pass through an experience like that of those whom he wished to deliver, he assumed their nature. "He taketh not hold of angels, but he taketh hold of the seed of Abraham:" in other words, he aimed not to assist angels, but men. These passages, taken in connection with the whole scope and drift of the document in which they are found, declare that Jesus was a spirit in heaven, but came to the earth, taking upon him a mortal frame of flesh and blood. Why he did this is the question that naturally arises next. We do not see how it is possible for any person to read the epistle through intelligently, in the light of an adequate knowledge of contemporary Hebrew opinions, and not perceive that the author's answer to that inquiry is, that Christ assumed the guise and fate of humanity in order to die; and died in order to rise from the dead; and rose from the dead in order to ascend to heaven; and ascended to heaven in order to reveal the grace of God opening the way for the celestial exaltation and blessedness of the souls of faithful men. We will commence the proof and illustration of these statements by bringing together some of the principal passages in the epistle which involve the objects of the mission of Christ, and then stating the thought that chiefly underlies and explains them. "We see Jesus who was made a little while inferior to the angels, in order that by the kindness of God he might taste death for every man through the suffering of death crowned with glory and honor." With the best critics, we have altered the arrangement of the clauses in the foregoing verse, to make the sense clearer. The exact meaning is, that the exaltation of Christ to heaven after his death authenticated his mission, showed that his death had a divine meaning for men; that is, showed that they also should rise to heaven. "When he had by himself made a purification of our sins, he sat down at the right hand of the Majesty on high." "For this cause he is the Mediator of the new covenant, that, his death having occurred, (for the redemption of the transgressions under the first covenant,) they which are called might enter upon possession of the promised eternal inheritance." The force of this last passage, with its context, turns on the double sense of the Greek word for covenant, which likewise means a will. Several statements in the epistle show the author's belief that the subjects of the old dispensation had the promise of immortal life in heaven, but had never realized the thing itself.2 Now, he maintains the purpose of the new dispensation to be the actual revelation and bestowment of the reality which anciently was only promised and typically foreshadowed; and in the passage before us he figures Christ the author of the Christian covenant as the maker of a will by which believers are appointed heirs of a heavenly immortality. He then following the analogy of testamentary legacies and legatees describes those heirs as "entering on possession of that eternal inheritance" "by the death of the Testator." He was led to employ precisely this language by two obvious reasons: first, for the sake of that paronomasia of which he was evidently fond; secondly, by the fact that it really was the death of Christ, with the succeeding resurrection and ascension, which demonstrated both the reality of the thing promised in the will and the authority of the Testator to bestow it. All the expressions thus far cited, and kindred ones scattered through the work, convey a clear and consistent meaning, with sharp outlines and coherent details, if we suppose their author entertained the following general theory; and otherwise they cannot be satisfactorily explained. A dreadful fear of death, introduced by sin, was tyrannizing over men. In consequence of conscious alienation from God through transgressions, they shuddered at death. The writer does not say what there was in death that made it so feared; but we know that the prevailing Hebrew conception was, that death led the naked soul into the silent, dark, and dreary region of the under world, a doleful fate, from which they shrank with sadness at the best, guilt converting that natural melancholy into dread foreboding. In the absence of any evidence or presumption whatever to the contrary, we are authorized, nay, rather forced, to conclude that such a conception is implied in the passages we are considering. Now, the mission of Jesus was to deliver men from that fear and bondage, by assuring them that God would forgive sin and annul its consequence. Instead of banishing their disembodied spirits into the sepulchral Sheol, he would take them to himself into the glory above the firmament. This aim Christ accomplished by literally exemplifying the truths it implies; that is, by personally assuming the lot of man, dying, rising from among the spirits of the dead, and ascending beyond the veil into heaven. By his death and victorious ascent "he purged our sins," "redeemed transgressions," "overthrew him that has the power of death," in the sense that he thereby, as the writer thought, swept away the supposed train of evils caused by sin, namely, all the concomitants of a banishment after death into the cheerless subterranean empire. It will be well now to notice more fully, in the author's scheme, the idea that Christ did locally ascend into the heavens, "into the presence of God," "where he ever liveth," and 2 xi. 13, 16, et al. See chap. x. 36, where to receive the promise most plainly means to obtain the thing promised, as it does several times in the epistle. So Paul, in his speech at Antioch, (Acts xiii. 32, 33,) says, "We declare unto you glad tidings, how that the promise which was made unto the fathers, God hath fulfilled the same unto us their children, in that he hath raised up Jesus again" that by this ascent he for the first time opened the way for others to ascend to him where he is, avoiding the doom of Hades. "We have a great High Priest, who has passed through the heavens, Jesus, the Son of God." "Christ is not entered into the most holy place, made with hands, the figure of the true, but into heaven itself, now to appear in the presence of God for us." Indeed, that Jesus, in a material and local sense, rose to heaven, is a conception fundamental to the epistle and prominent on all its face. It is much more necessary for us to show that the author believed that the men who had previously died had not risen thither, but that it was the Savior's mission to open the way for their ascension. It is extremely significant, in the outset, that Jesus is called "the first leader and the bringer to the end of our faith;" for the words in this clause which the common version renders "author" and "finisher"3 mean, from their literal force and the latent figure they contain, "a guide who runs through the course to the goal so as to win and receive the prize, bringing us after him to the same consummation." Still more striking is the passage we shall next adduce. Having enumerated a long list of the choicest worthies of the Old Testament, the writer adds, "These all, having obtained testimony through faith, did not realize the promise,4 God having provided a better thing for us, that they without us should not be perfected," should not be brought to the end, the end of human destiny, that is, exaltation to heaven. Undoubtedly the author here means to say that the faithful servants of God under the Mosaic dispensation were reserved in the under world until the ascension of the Messiah. Augustine so explains the text in hand, declaring that Christ was the first that ever rose from the under world.5 The same exposition is given by Origen,6 and indeed by nearly every one of the Fathers who has undertaken to give a critical interpretation of the passage. This doctrine itself was held by Catholic Christendom for a thousand years; is now held by the Roman, Greek, and English Churches; but is, for the most part, rejected or forgotten by the dissenting sects, from two causes. It has so generally sunk out of sight among us, first, from ignorance, ignorance of the ancient learning and opinions on which it rested and of which it was the necessary completion; secondly, from rationalistic speculations, which, leading men to discredit the truth of the doctrine, led them arbitrarily to deny its existence in the Scripture, making them perversely force the texts that state it and wilfully blink the texts that hint it. Whether this be a proper and sound method of proceeding in critical investigations any one may judge. To us it seems equally unmanly and immoral. We know of but one justifiable course, and that is, with patience, with earnestness, and with all possible aids, to labor to discern the real and full meaning of the words according to the understanding and intention of the author. We do so elsewhere, regardless of consequences. No other method, in the case of the Scriptures, is exempt from guilt. The meaning (namely, to bring to the end) which we have above attributed to the word [NAC](translated in the common version to make perfect) is the first meaning and the 3 Robinson's Lexicon, first edition, under [NAC]; also see Philo, cited there. 4 Ch. x. 36. 5 Epist. CLXIV. sect. ix., ed. Benedictina. 6 De Principiis, lib. ii. cap. 2. etymological force of the word. That we do not refine upon it over nicely in the present instance, the following examples from various parts of the epistle unimpeachably witness. "For it was proper that God, in bringing many sons unto glory, should make him who was the first leader of their salvation perfect [reach the end] through sufferings;" that is, should raise him to heaven after he had passed through death, that he, having himself arrived at the glorious heavenly goal of human destiny, might bring others to it. "Christ, being made perfect," (brought through all the intermediate steps to the end,) "became the cause of eternal salvation to all them that obey him; called of God an high priest." The context, and the after assertion of the writer that the priesthood of Jesus is exercised in heaven, show that the word "perfected," as employed here, signifies exalted to the right hand of God. "Perfection" (bringing unto the end) "was not by the Levitical priesthood." "The law perfected nothing, but it was the additional introduction of a better hope by which we draw near unto God." "The law maketh men high priests which have infirmity, which are not suffered to continue, by reason of death; but the word of the oath after the law maketh the Son perfect for evermore," bringeth him to the end, namely, an everlasting priesthood in the heavens. That Christian believers are not under the first covenant, whereby, through sin, men commencing with the blood of Abel, the first death were doomed to the lower world, but are under the second covenant, whereby, through the gracious purpose of God, taking effect in the blood of Christ, the first resurrection, they are already by faith, in imagination, translated to heaven, this is plainly what the author teaches in the following words: "Ye are not come to the palpable mount that burneth with fire, and to blackness and tempest, where so terrible was the sight that Moses exceedingly trembled, but ye are come to Mount Zion, to the heavenly Jerusalem, and to an innumerable company of angels, and to God, and to the spirits of the perfected just, and to Jesus, the mediator of the new covenant, and to the lustral blood which speaks better things than that of Abel." The connection here demonstrates that the souls of the righteous are called "perfected," as having arrived at the goal of their destiny in heaven. Again, the author, when speaking of the sure and steadfast hope of eternal life, distinguishes Jesus as a [non-ASCII characters], one who runs before as a scout or leader: "the Forerunner, who for us has entered within the veil," that is, has passed beyond the firmament into the presence of God. The Jews called the outward or lowermost heaven the veil.7 But the most conclusive consideration upon the opinion we are arguing for and it must be entirely convincing is to be drawn from the first half of the ninth chapter. To appreciate it, it is requisite to remember that the Rabbins with whose notions our author was familiar and some of which he adopts in his reasoning were accustomed to compare the Jewish temple and city with the temple and city of Jehovah above the sky, considering the former as miniature types of the latter. This mode of thought was originally learned by philosophical Rabbins from the Platonic doctrine of ideas, without doubt, and was entertained figuratively, spiritually; but in the unreflecting, popular mind the Hebraic views to which it gave rise were soon grossly materialized and located. They also derived the same conception from God's command to Moses when he was about to build the tabernacle: 7 Schoettgen, Hora Hebraica et Talmudica in 2 Cor. xii. 2. "See thou make all things according to the pattern showed to thee in the mount." They refined upon these words with many conceits. They compared the three divisions of the temple to the three heavens: the outer Court of the Gentiles corresponded with the first heaven, the Court of the Israelites with the second heaven, and the Holy of Holies represented the third heaven or the very abode of God. Josephus writes, "The temple has three compartments: the first two for men, the third for God, because heaven is inaccessible to men."8 Now, our author says, referring to this triple symbolic arrangement of the temple, "The priests went always into the first tabernacle, accomplishing the service, but into the second went the high priest alone, once every year, not without blood; this, which was a figure for the time then present, signifying that the way into the holiest of all9 was not yet laid open; but Christ being come, an high priest of the future good things, by his own blood he entered in once into the holy place, having obtained eternal deliverance." The points of the comparison here instituted are these: On the great annual day of atonement, after the death of the victim, the Hebrew high priest went into the adytum of the earthly temple, but none could follow; Jesus, the Christian high priest, went after his own death into the adytum of the heavenly temple, and enabled the faithful to enter there after him. Imagery like the fore going, which implies a Sanctum Sanctorum above, the glorious prototype of that below, is frequent in the Talmud.10 To remove all uncertainty from the exposition thus presented, if any doubt linger, it is only necessary to cite one more passage from the epistle. "We have, therefore, brethren, by the blood of Jesus, leading into the holiest, a free road, a new and blessed road, which he hath inaugurated for us through the veil, that is to say, through his flesh." As there was no entrance for the priest into the holiest of the temple save by the removal of the veil, so Christ could not enter heaven except by the removal of his body. The blood of Jesus here, as in most cases in the New Testament, means the death of Jesus, involving his ascension. Chrysostom, commenting on these verses, says, in explanation of the word [non-ASCII characters], "Christ laid out the road and was the first to go over it. The first way was of death, leading [ad inferos] to the under world; the other is of life," leading to heaven. The interpretation we have given of these passages reconciles and blends that part of the known contemporary opinions which applies to them, and explains and justifies the natural force of the imagery and words employed. Its accuracy seems to us unquestionable by any candid person who is competently acquainted with the subject. The substance of it is, that Jesus came from God to the earth as a man, laid down his life that he might rise from the dead into heaven again, into the real Sanctum Sanctorum of the universe, thereby proving that faithful believers also shall rise thither, being thus delivered, after the pattern of his evident deliverance, from the imprisonment of the realm of death below. We now proceed to quote and unfold five distinct passages, not yet brought forward, from the epistle, each of which proves that we are not mistaken in attributing to the writer 8 Antiq. lib. iii. cap. 6, sect. 4; ibid. cap. 7, sect. 7. 9 Philo declares, "The whole universe is one temple of God, in which the holiest of all is heaven." De Monarchia, p. 222, ed. Mangey. 10 Schoettgen, Dissertatio de Hierosolyma Coelesti, cap. 2, sect. 9. of it the above stated general theory. In the first verse which we shall adduce it is certain that the word "death" includes the entrance of the soul into the subterranean kingdom of ghosts. It is written of Christ that, "in the days of his flesh, when he had earnestly prayed to Him that was able to do it, to save him from death, he was heard," and was advanced to be a high priest in the heavens, "was made higher than the heavens." Now, obviously, God did not rescue Christ from dying, but he raised him, [non-ASCII characters], from the world of the dead. So Chrysostom declares, referring to this very text, "Not to be retained in the region of the dead, but to be delivered from it, is virtually not to die."11 Moreover, the phrase above translated "to save him from death" may be translated, with equal propriety, "to bring him back safe from death." The Greek verb [non-ASCII characters], to save, is often so used to denote the safe restoration of a warrior from an incursion into an enemy's domain. The same use made here by our author of the term "death" we have also found made by Philo Judaus. "The wise," Philo says, "inherit the Olympic and heavenly region to dwell in, always studying to go above; the bad inherit the innermost parts of the under world, always laboring to die."12 The antithesis between going above and dying, and the mention of the under world in connection with the latter, prove that to die here means, or at least includes, going below after death. The Septuagint version of the Old Testament twice translates Sheol by the word "death."13 The Hebrew word for death, maveth, is repeatedly used for the abode of the dead.14 And the nail of the interpretation we are urging is clenched by this sentence from Origen: "The under world, in which souls are detained by death, is called death."15 Bretschneider cites nearly a dozen passages from the New Testament where, in his judgment, death is used to denote Hades. Again: we read that Christ took human nature upon him "in order that by means of [his own] death he might render him that has the power of death that is, the devil idle, and deliver those who through fear of death were all their lifetime subject to bondage." It is apparent at once that the mere death of Christ, so far from ending the sway of Death, would be giving the grim monster a new victory, incomparably the most important he had ever achieved. Therefore, the only way to make adequate sense of the passage is to join with the Savior's death what followed it, namely, his resurrection and ascension. It was the Hebrew belief that sin, introduced by the fraud of the devil, was the cause of death, and the doomer of the disembodied spirits of men to the lower caverns of darkness and rest. They personified Death as king, tyrannizing over mankind; and, unless in severe affliction, they dreaded the hour when they must lie down under his sceptre and sink into his voiceless kingdom of shadows. Christ broke the power of Satan, closed his busy reign, rescued the captive souls, and relieved the timorous hearts of the faithful, by rising triumphantly from 11 Homil. Epist. ad Heb. in hoc loc. 12 Quod a Deo mitt. Somn., p. 643, ed. Mangey. 13 2 Sam. xxii. 6; Prov. xxiii. 14. 14 Ps. ix. 13. Prov. vii, 27. 15 Comm. in Epist. ad Rom., lib. vi. cap. 6, sect. 6.: "Inferni locus in quo anima detinebantur a morte mors appellatur." the long bound dominion of the grave, and ascending in a new path of light, pioneering the saints to immortal glory. In another part of the epistle, the writer, having previously explained that as the high priest after the death of the expiatory goat entered the typical holy place in the temple, so Christ after his own death entered the true holy place in the heavens, goes on to guard against the analogy being forced any further to deny the necessity of Christ's service being repeated, as the priest's was annually repeated, saying, "For then he must have died many times since the foundation of the world; but, on the contrary, [it suffices that] once, at the close of the ages, through the sacrifice of himself he hath appeared [in heaven] for the abrogation of sin."16 The rendering and explanation we give of this language are those adopted by the most distinguished commentators, and must be justified by any one who examines the proper punctuation of the clauses and studies the context. The simple idea is, that, by the sacrifice of his body through death, Christ rose and showed himself in the presence of God. The author adds that this was done "unto the annulling of sin." It is with reference to these last words principally that we have cited the passage. What do they mean? In what sense can the passing of Christ's soul into heaven after death be said to have done away with sin? In the first place, the open manifestation of Christ's disenthralled and risen soul in the supernal presence of God did not in any sense abrogate sin itself, literally considered, because all kinds of sin that ever were upon the earth among men before have been ever since, and are now. In the second place, that miraculous event did not annul and remove human guilt, the consciousness of sin and responsibility for it, because, in fact, men feel the sting and load of guilt now as badly as ever; and the very epistle before us, as well as the whole New Testament, addresses Christians as being exposed to constant and varied danger of incurring guilt and woe. But, in the third place, the ascension of Jesus did show very plainly to the apostles and first Christians that what they supposed to be the great outward penalty of sin was annulled; that it was no longer a necessity for the spirit to descend to the lower world after death; that fatal doom, entailed on the generations of humanity by sin, was now abrogated for all who were worthy. Such, we have not a doubt, is the true meaning of the declaration under review. This exposition is powerfully confirmed by the two succeeding verses, which we will next pass to examine. "As it is appointed for men to die once, but after this the judgment, so Christ, having been offered once to bear the sins of many, shall appear a second time, without sin, for salvation unto those expecting him." Man dies once, and then passes into that state of separate existence in the under world which is the legal judgment for sin. Christ, taking upon himself, with the nature of man, the burden of man's lot and doom, died once, and then rose from the dead by the gracious power of the Father, bearing away the outward penalty of sin. He will come again into the world, uninvolved, the next time, with any of the accompaniments or consequences of sin, to save them that look for him, and victoriously lead them into heaven with him. In this instance, as all through the writings of the apostles, 16 Griesbach in loc.; and Rosenmuller. sin, death, and the under world are three segments of a circle, each necessarily implying the others. The same remark is to be made of the contrasted terms righteousness, grace, immortal life above the sky; 17 the former being traced from the sinful and fallen Adam, the latter from the righteous and risen Christ. The author says, "If the blood of bulls and goats sanctifies unto the purification of the flesh, how much more shall the blood of Christ, who having18 an eternal spirit offered himself faultless to God, cleanse your consciousness!" The argument, fully expressed, is, if the blood of perishable brutes cleanses the body, the blood of the immortal Christ cleanses the soul. The implied inference is, that as the former fitted the outward man for the ritual privileges of the temple, so the latter fitted the inward man for the spiritual privileges of heaven. This appears clearly from what follows in the next chapter, where the writer says, in effect, that "it is not possible for the blood of bulls and of goats to take away sins, however often it is offered, but that Christ, when he had offered one sacrifice for sins, forever sat down at the right hand of God." The reason given for the efficacy of Christ's offering is that he sat down at the right hand of God. When the chosen animals were sacrificed for sins, they utterly perished, and there was an end. But when Christ was offered, his soul survived and rose into heaven, an evident sign that the penalty of sin, whereby men were doomed to the under world after death, was abolished. This perfectly explains the language; and nothing else, it seems to us, can perfectly explain it. That Christ would speedily reappear from heaven in triumph, to judge his foes and save his disciples, was a fundamental article in the primitive Church scheme of the last things. There are unmistakable evidences of such a belief in our author. "For yet a little while, and the coming one will come, and will not delay." "Provoke one another unto love and good works, . . . so much the more as ye see the day drawing near." There is another reference to this approaching advent, which, though obscure, affords important testimony. Jesus, when he had ascended, "sat down at the right hand of God, henceforward waiting till his enemies be made his footstool." That is to say, he is tarrying in heaven for the appointed time to arrive when he shall come into the world again to consummate the full and final purposes of his mission. We may leave this division of the subject established beyond all question, by citing a text which explicitly states the idea in so many words: "Unto them that look for him he shall appear the second time." That expectation of the speedy second coming of the Messiah which haunted the early Christians, therefore, unquestionably occupied the mind of the composer of the Epistle to the Hebrews. If the writer of this epistolary essay had a firm and detailed opinion as to the exact fate to be allotted to wicked and persistent unbelievers, his allusions to that opinion are too few and vague for us to determine precisely what it was. We will briefly quote the substance of what he says upon the subject, and add a word in regard to the inferences it does, or it does not, warrant. "If under the Mosaic dispensation every transgression received a just recompense, how shall we escape if we neglect so great a salvation, first proclaimed by the 17 Neander, Planting and Training of the Church, Ryland's trans. p. 298. 18 [Non-ASCII characters] is often used in the sense of with, or possessing. See Wahl's New Testament Lexicon. Lord?" "As the Israelites that were led out of Egypt by Moses, on account of their unbelief and provocations, were not permitted to enter the promised land, but perished in the wilderness, so let us fear, lest, a promise being left us of entering into his rest, any of you should seem to come short of it." Christ "became the cause of eternal salvation to all them that obey him." "He hath brought unto the end forever them that are sanctified." It will be observed that these last specifications are partial, and that nothing is said of the fate of those not included under them. "It is impossible for those who were once enlightened, . . . if they shall fall away, to renew them again unto repentance. . . . But, beloved, we are persuaded better things of you, even things that accompany salvation." "We are not of them who draw back unto the destruction, but of them who believe unto the preservation, of the soul." "If we sin wilfully after we have received the knowledge of the truth, there is no longer left a sacrifice for sins, but a certain fearful looking for of judgment, and of fiery indignation to devour the adversaries." "It is a fearful thing to fall into the hands of the living God." "If they escaped not who refused him that spoke on earth, [Moses,] much more we shall not escape if we turn away from him that speaks from heaven," (Christ.) In view of the foregoing passages, which represent the entire teaching of the epistle in relation to the ultimate destination of sinners, we must assert as follows. First, the author gives no hint of the doctrine of literal torments in a local hell. Secondly, he is still further from favoring nay, he unequivocally denies the doctrine of unconditional, universal salvation. Thirdly, he either expected that the reprobate would be absolutely destroyed at the second coming of Christ, which does not seem to be declared; or that they would be exiled forever from the kingdom of glory into the sad and slumberous under world, which is not clearly implied; or that they would be punished according to their evil, and then, restored to Divine favor, be exalted into heaven with the original elect, which is not written in the record; or, lastly, that they would be disposed of in some way unknown to him, which he does not avow. He makes no allusion to such a terrific conception as is expressed by our modern use of the word hell: he emphatically predicates conditionality of salvation, he threatens sinners in general terms with severe judgment. Further than this he has neglected to state his faith. If it reached any further, he has preferred to leave the statement of it in vague and impressive gloom. Let us stop a moment and epitomize the steps we have taken. Jesus, the Son of God, was a spirit in heaven. He came upon the earth in the guise of humanity to undergo its whole experience and to be its redeemer. He died, passed through the vanquished kingdom of the grave, and rose into heaven again, to exemplify to men that through the grace of God a way was opened to escape the under world, the great external penalty of sin, and reach a better country, even a heavenly. From his seat at God's right hand, he should ere long descend to complete God's designs in his mission, judge his enemies and lead his accepted followers to heaven. The all important thought running through the length and breadth of the treatise is the ascension of Christ from the midst of the dead [non-ASCII characters]into the celestial presence, as the pledge of our ascent. "Among the things of which we are speaking, this is the capital consideration, [non-ASCII characters] the most essential point, "that we have such a high priest, who hath sat down at the right hand of the throne of the Majesty in the heavens." Neander says, though apparently without perceiving the extent of its ulterior significance, "The conception of the resurrection in relation to the whole Christian system lies at the basis of this epistle." A brief sketch and exposition of the scope of the epistle in general will cast light and confirmation upon the interpretation we have given of its doctrine of a future life in particular. The one comprehensive design of the writer, it is perfectly clear, is to prove to the Christian converts from the Hebrews the superiority of Christianity to Judaism, and thus to arm them against apostasy from the new covenant to the ancient one. He begins by showing that Christ, the bringer of the gospel, is greater than the angels, by whom the law was given,19 and consequently that his word is to be reverenced still more than theirs.20 Next he argues that Jesus, the Christian Mediator, as the Son of God, is crowned with more authority and is worthy of more glory than Moses, the Jewish mediator, as the servant of God; and that as Moses led his people towards the rest of Canaan, so Christ leads his people towards the far better rest of heaven. He then advances to demonstrate the superiority of Christ to the Levitical priesthood. This he establishes by pointing out the facts that the Levitical priest had a transient honor, being after the law of a carnal commandment, his offerings referring to the flesh, while Christ has an unchangeable priesthood, being after the power of an endless life, his offering referring to the soul; that the Levitical priest once a year went into the symbolic holy place in the temple, unable to admit others, but Jesus rose into the real holy place itself above, opening a way for all faithful disciples to follow; and that the Hebrew temple and ceremonies were but the small type and shadow of the grand archetypal temple in heaven, where Christ is the immortal High Priest, fulfilling in the presence of God the completed reality of what Judaism merely miniatured, an emblematic pattern that could make nothing perfect. "By him therefore let us continually offer to God the sacrifice of praise." The author intersperses, and closes with, exhortations to steadfast faith, pure morals, and fervent piety. There is one point in this epistle which deserves, in its essential connection with the doctrine of the future life, a separate treatment. It is the subject of the Atonement. The correspondence between the sacrifices in the Hebrew ritual and the sufferings and death of Christ would, from the nature of the case, irresistibly suggest the sacrificial terms and metaphors which our author uses in a large part of his argument. Moreover, his precise aim in writing compelled him to make these resemblances as prominent, as significant, and as effective as possible. Griesbach says well, in his learned and able essay, "When it was impossible for the Jews, lately brought to the Christian faith, to tear away the attractive associations of their ancestral religion, which were twined among the very roots of their minds, and they were consequently in danger of falling away from Christ, the most ingenious author of this epistle met the case by a masterly expedient. He instituted a careful comparison, showing the superiority of Christianity to Judaism even in regard to the very point where the latter seemed so much more glorious, namely, in priesthoods, temples, 19 Heb. i. 4 14, ii. 2; Acts vii. 53; Gal. iii. 20 Heb. ii. 1 3. altars, victims, lustrations, and kindred things."21 That these comparisons are sometimes used by the writer analogically, figuratively, imaginatively, for the sake of practical illustration and impression, not literally as logical expressions and proofs of a dogmatic theory of atonement, is made sufficiently plain by the following quotations. "The bodies of those beasts whose blood is brought into the holy place by the high priest for sin are burned without the camp. Wherefore Jesus also, that he might sanctify the people through his own blood, suffered without the gate. Let us go forth therefore unto him without the camp, bearing his reproach." Every one will at once perceive that these sentences are not critical statements of theological truths, but are imaginative expressions of practical lessons, spiritual exhortations. Again, we read, "It was necessary that the patterns of the heavenly things should be purified with sacrificed animals, but the heavenly things themselves with better sacrifices than these." Certainly it is only by an exercise of the imagination, for spiritual impression, not for philosophical argument, that heaven can be said to be defiled by the sins of men on earth so as to need cleansing by the lustral blood of Christ. The writer also appeals to his readers in these terms: "To do good and to communicate forget not; for with such sacrifices God is well pleased." The purely practical aim and rhetorical method with which the sacrificial language is employed here are evident enough. We believe it is used in the same way wherever it occurs in the epistle. The considerations which have convinced us, and which we think ought to convince every unprejudiced mind, that the Calvinistic scheme of a substitutional expiation for sin, a placation of Divine wrath by the offering of Divine blood, was not in the mind of the author, and does not inform his expressions when they are rightly understood, may be briefly presented. First, the notion that the suffering of Christ in itself ransomed lost souls, bought the withheld grace and pardon of God for us, is confessedly foreign and repulsive to the instinctive moral sense and to natural reason, but is supposed to rest on the authority of revelation. Secondly, that doctrine is nowhere specifically stated in the epistle, but is assumed, or inferred, to explain language which to a superficial look seems to imply it, perhaps even seems to be inexplicable without it;22 but in reality such a view is inconsistent with that language when it is accurately studied. For example, notice the following passage: "When Christ cometh into the world," he is represented as saying, "I come to do thy will, O God." "By the which will," the writer continues, "we are sanctified through the offering of the body of Jesus." That is, the death of Christ, involving his resurrection and ascension into heaven, fulfils and exemplifies the gracious purpose of God, not purchases for us an otherwise impossible benignity. The above cited explicit declaration is irreconcilable 21 Opuscula: De Imaginibus Judaicis in Epist. ad Hebraos. 22 That these texts were not originally understood as implying any vicarious efficacy in Christ's painful death, but as attributing a typical power to his triumphant resurrection, his glorious return from the world of the dead into heaven, appears very plainly in the following instance, Theodoret, one of the earliest explanatory writers on the New Testament, says, while expressly speaking of Christ's death, the sufferings through which he was perfected, "His resurrection certified a resurrection for us all." Comm. in Epist. ad Heb. cap. 2, v. 10. with the thought that Christ came into the world to die that he might appease the flaming justice and anger of God, and by vicarious agony buy the remission of human sins: it conveys the idea, on the contrary, that God sent Christ to prove and illustrate to men the free fulness of his forgiving love. Thirdly, the idea, which we think was the idea of the author of the Epistle to the Hebrews, that Christ, by his death, resurrection, and ascent, demonstrated to the faith of men God's merciful removal of the supposed outward penalty of sin, namely, the banishment of souls after death to the under world, and led the way, as their forerunner, into heaven, this idea, which is not shocking to the moral sense nor plainly absurd to the moral reason, as the Augustinian dogma is, not only yields a more sharply defined, consistent, and satisfactory explanation of all the related language of the epistle, but is also which cannot be said of the other doctrine in harmony with the contemporary opinions of the Hebrews, and would be the natural and almost inevitable development from them and complement of them in the mind of a Pharisee, who, convinced of the death and ascension of the sinless Jesus, the appointed Messiah, had become a Christian. In support of the last assertion, which is the only one that needs further proof, we submit the following considerations. In the first place, every one familiar with the eschatology of the Hebrews knows that at the time of Christ the belief prevailed that the sin of Adam was the cause of death among men. In the second place, it is equally well known that they believed the destination of souls upon leaving the body to be the under world. Therefore does it not follow by all the necessities of logic? they believed that sin was the cause of the descent of disembodied spirits to the dreary lower realm. In the third place, it is notorious and undoubted that the Jews of that age expected that, when the Messiah should appear, the dead of their nation, or at least a portion of them, would be raised from the under world and be reclothed with bodies, and would reign with him for a period on earth and then ascend to heaven. Now, what could be more natural than that a person holding this creed, who should be brought to believe that Jesus was the true Messiah and after his death had risen from among the dead into heaven, should immediately conclude that this was a pledge or illustration of the abrogation of the gloomy penalty of sin, the deliverance of souls from the subterranean prison, and their admission to the presence of God beyond the sky? We deem this an impregnable position. Every relevant text that we consider in its light additionally fortifies it by the striking manner in which such a conception fits, fills, and explains the words. To justify these interpretations, and to sustain particular features of the doctrine which they express, almost any amount of evidence may be summoned from the writings both of the most authoritative and of the simplest Fathers of the Church, beginning with Justin Martyr,23 philosopher of Neapolis, at the close of the apostolic age, and ending with John Hobart,24 Bishop of New York, in the early part of the nineteenth century. We refrain from adducing the throng of such authorities here, because they will be more appropriately brought forward in future chapters. 23 Dial. cum Tryph. cap. v. et cap. lxxx.24 State of the Departed. The intelligent reader will observe that the essential point of difference distinguishing our exposition of the fundamental doctrine of the composition in review, on the one hand, from the Calvinistic interpretation of it, and, on the other hand, from the Unitarian explanation of it, is this. Calvinism says that Christ, by his death, his vicarious pains, appeased the wrath of God, satisfied the claims of justice, and purchased the salvation of souls from an agonizing and endless hell. Unitarianism says that Christ, by his teachings, spirit, life, and miracles, revealed the character of the Father, set an example for man, gave certainty to great truths, and exerted moral influences to regenerate men, redeem them from sin, and fit them for the blessed kingdom of immortality. We understand the writer of the Epistle to the Hebrews really to say in subtraction from what the Calvinist, in addition to what the Unitarian, says that Christ, by his resurrection from the tyrannous realm of death, and ascent into the unbarred heaven, demonstrated the fact that God, in his sovereign grace, in his free and wondrous love, would forgive mankind their sins, remove the ancient penalty of transgression, no more dooming their disembodied spirits to the noiseless and everlasting gloom of the under world, but admitting them to his own presence, above the firmamental floor, where the beams of his chambers are laid, and where he reigneth forever, covered with light as with a garment. CHAPTER III. DOCTRINE OF A FUTURE LIFE IN THE APOCALYPSE. BEFORE attempting to exhibit the doctrine of a future life contained in the Apocalypse, we propose to give a brief account of what is contained, relating to this subject, in the Epistle of James, the Epistle of Jude, and the (so called) Second Epistle of Peter. The references made by James to the group of points included under the general theme of the Future Life are so few and indirect, or vague, that it is impossible to construct any thing like a complete doctrine from them, save by somewhat arbitrary and uncertain suppositions. His purpose in writing, evidently, was practical exhortation, not dogmatic instruction. His epistle contains no expository outline of a system; but it has allusions and hints which plainly imply some partial views belonging to a system, while the other parts of it are left obscure. He says that "evil desire brings forth sin, and sin, when it is finished, brings forth death." But whether he intended this text as a moral metaphor to convey a spiritual meaning, or as a literal statement of a physical fact, or as a comprehensive enunciation including both these ideas, there is nothing in the context positively to determine. He offers not the faintest clew to his conception of the purpose of the death and resurrection of Christ. He uses the word for the Jewish hell but once, and then, undeniably, in a figurative sense, saying that a "curbless and defiling tongue is set on fire of Gehenna." He appears to adopt the common notion of his contemporary countrymen in regard to demoniacal existences, when he declares that "the devils believe there is one God, and tremble," and when he exclaims, "Resist the devil, and he will flee from you." He insists on the necessity of a faith that evinces itself in good works and in all the virtues, as the means of acceptance with God. He compares life to a vanishing vapor, denounces terribly the wicked and dissolute rich men who wanton in crimes and oppress the poor. Then he calls on the suffering brethren to be patient under their afflictions "until the coming of the Lord;" to abstain from oaths, be fervent in prayer, and establish their hearts, "for the coming of the Lord draweth nigh." "Grudge not one against another, brethren, lest ye be condemned: behold, the Judge standeth before the door." Here the return of Christ, to finish his work, sit in judgment, accept some, and reject others, is clearly implied. And if James held this element of the general scheme of eschatology held by the other apostles as shown in their epistles, it is altogether probable that he also embraced the rest of that scheme. There are no means of definitely ascertaining whether he did or did not; though, according to a very learned and acute theologian, another fundamental part of that general system of doctrine is to be found in the last verse of the epistle, where James says that "he who converts a sinner from the error of his ways shall save a soul from death and hide a multitude of sins." Bretschneider thinks that saving a soul from death here means rescuing it from a descent into the under world, the word death being often used in the New Testament as by the Rabbins to denote the subterranean abode of the dead.1 This 1 Bretschneider, Religiose Glaubenslehre, sect. 59. interpretation may seem forced to an unlearned reader, who examines the text for personal profit, but will not seem at all improbable to one who, to learn its historic meaning, reads the text in the lighted foreground of a mind over whose background lies a fitly arranged knowledge of all the materials requisite for an adequate criticism. For such a man was Bretschneider himself. The eschatological implications and references in the Epistle of Jude are of pretty much the same character and extent as those which we have just considered. A thorough study and analysis of this brief document will show that it may be fairly divided into three heads and be regarded as having three objects. First, the writer exhorts his readers "to contend earnestly for the faith once delivered to the saints," "to remember the words of Christ's apostles," "to keep themselves in the love of God, looking for eternal life." He desires to stir them up to diligence in efforts to preserve their doctrinal purity and their personal virtue. Secondly, he warns them of the fearful danger of depravity, pride, and lasciviousness. This warning he enforces by several examples of the terrible judgments of God on the rebellious and wicked in other times. Among these instances is the case of the Cities of the Plain, eternally destroyed by a storm of fire for their uncleanness; also the example of the fallen angels, "who kept not their first estate, but left their proper habitation, and are reserved in everlasting chains and darkness unto the judgment of the great day." The writer here adopts the doctrine of fallen angels, and the connected views, as then commonly received among the Jews. This doctrine is not of Christian origin, but was drawn from Persian and other Oriental sources, as is abundantly shown, with details, in almost every history of Jewish opinions, in almost every Biblical commentary.2 In this connection Jude cites a legend from an apocryphal book, called the "Ascension of Moses," of which Origen gives an account.3 The substance of the tradition is, that, at the decease of Moses, Michael and Satan contended whether the body should be given over to death or be taken up to heaven. The appositeness of this allusion is, that, while in this strife the archangel dared not rail against Satan, yet the wicked men whom Jude is denouncing do not hesitate to blaspheme the angels and to speak evil of the things which they know not. "Woe unto such ungodly men: gluttonous spots, dewless clouds, fruitless trees plucked up and twice dead, they are ordained to condemnation." Thirdly, the epistle announces the second coming of Christ, in the last time, to establish his tribunal. The Prophecy of Enoch an apocryphal book, recovered during the present century is quoted as saying, "Behold, the Lord cometh, with ten thousand of his saints, to execute judgment upon all, and to convict the ungodly of their ungodly deeds."4 Jude, then, anticipated the return of the Lord, at "the judgment of the great day," to judge the world; considered the under world, or abode of the dead, not as a region of fire, but a place of imprisoning gloom, wherein "to defiled and blaspheming dreamers is reserved the blackness of darkness forever;" 2 E. g. Stuart's Dissertation on the Angelology of the Scriptures, published in vol. i. of the Bibliotheca Sacra. 3 De Principiis, lib. iii. cap 2. See, also, in Michaelis's Introduction to the New Testament, sect. 4 of the chapter on Jude. 4 Book of Enoch, translated by Dr. R. Laurence, cap. ii. thought it imminently necessary for men to be diligent in striving to secure their salvation, because "all sensual mockers, not having the spirit, but walking after their own ungodly lusts," would be lost. He probably expected that, when all free contingencies were past and Christ had pronounced sentence, the condemned would be doomed eternally into the black abyss, and the accepted would rise into the immortal glory of heaven. He closes his letter with these significant words, which plainly imply much of what we have just been setting forth: "Everlasting honor and power, through Jesus Christ our Lord, be unto God, who is able to keep you from falling and to present you faultless before the face of his glory with exceeding joy."5 The first chapter of the so called Second Epistle of Peter is not occupied with theological propositions, but with historical, ethical, and practical statements and exhortations. These are, indeed, of such a character, and so expressed, that they clearly presuppose certain opinions in the mind of the writer. First, he evidently believed that a merciful and holy message had been sent from God to men by Jesus Christ, whereby are given unto us exceeding great and precious promises." The substance of these promises was "a call to escape the corruption of the world, and enter into glory and be partakers of the Divine nature." By partaking of the Divine nature, we understand the writer to mean entering the Divine abode and condition, ascending into the safe and eternal joy of the celestial prerogatives. That the author here denotes heaven by the term glory, as the other New Testament writers frequently do, appears distinctly from the seventeenth and eighteenth verses of the chapter, where, referring to the incident at the baptism of Jesus, he declares, "There came a voice from the excellent glory, saying, 'This is my beloved Son;' and this voice, which came from heaven, we heard." Secondly, our author regarded this glorious promise as contingent on the fulfilment of certain conditions. It was to be realized by means of "faith, courage, knowledge, temperance, patience, godliness, kindness, and love." "He that hath these things shall never fall," "but an entrance shall be ministered unto him abundantly into the everlasting kingdom of our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ." The writer furnishes us no clew to his idea of the particular part performed by Christ in our salvation. He says not a word concerning the sufferings or death of the Savior; and the extremely scanty and indefinite allusions made to the relation in which Christ was supposed to stand between God and men, and the redemption and reconciliation of men with God, do not enable us to draw any dogmatic conclusions. He speaks of "false teachers, who shall bring in damnable heresies, even denying the Lord that bought them." But whether by this last phrase he means to imply a ransom of imprisoned souls from the under world by Christ's descent thither and victory over its powers, or a purchased exemption of sinners from their merited doom by the vicarious sufferings of Christ's death, or a practical regenerative redemption of disciples from their sins by the moral influences of his mission, his teachings, example, and character, there is nothing in the epistle clearly to decide; though, forming our judgment by the aid of other sources of information, we should conclude in favor of the first of these three conceptions as most probably expressing the writer's thought. 5 Griesbuch's reading of the 25th verse of Jude. The second chapter of the epistle is almost an exact parallel with the Epistle of Jude: in many verses it is the same, word for word. It threatens "unclean, self willed, unjust, and blaspheming men," that they shall "be reserved unto the day of judgment, to be punished." It warns such persons by citing the example of the rebellious "angels, who were thrust down into Tartarus, and fastened in chains of darkness until the judgment." It speaks of "cursed children, to whom is reserved the mist of darkness forever." Herein, plainly enough, is betrayed the common notion of the Jews of that time, the conception of a dismal under world, containing the evil angels of the Persian theology, and where the wicked were to be remanded after judgment and eternally imprisoned. The third and last chapter is taken up with the doctrine of the second coming of Christ. "Be mindful of the words of the prophets and apostles, knowing this first, that in the last days there shall be scoffers, who will say, 'Where is the promise of his coming? for since the fathers fell asleep all things continue as from the beginning.'" The writer meets this skeptical assertion with denial, and points to the Deluge, "whereby the world that then was, being overflowed with water, perished." His argument is, the world was thus destroyed once, therefore it may be destroyed again. He then goes on to assert positively relying for authority on old traditions and current dogmas that "the heavens and the earth which are now are kept by the word of God in store to be destroyed by fire in the day of judgment, when the perdition of ungodly men shall be sealed." "The delay of the Lord to fulfil his promise is not from procrastination, but from his long suffering who is not willing that any should perish." He waits "that all may come to repentance." But his patience will end, and "the day of God come as a thief in the night, when the heavens, being on fire, shall pass away with a crash, and the elements melt with fervent heat." There are two ways in which these declarations may be explained, though in either case the events they refer to are to occur in connection with the physical reappearance of Christ. First, they may be taken in a highly figurative sense, as meaning the moral overthrow of evil and the establishment of righteousness in the world. Similar expressions were often used thus by the ancient Hebrew prophets, who describe the triumphs of Israel and the destruction of their enemies, the Edomites or the Assyrians, by the interposition of Jehovah's arm, in such phrases as these. "The mountains melt, the valleys cleave asunder like wax before a fire, like waters poured over a precipice." "The heavens shall be rolled up like a scroll, all their hosts shall melt away and fall down; for Jehovah holdeth a great slaughter in the land of Edom: her streams shall be turned into pitch, and her dust into brimstone, and her whole land shall become burning pitch." The suppression of Satan's power and the setting up of the Messiah's kingdom might, according to the prophetic idiom, be expressed in awful images of fire and woe, the destruction of the old, and the creation of a new, heaven and earth. But, secondly, this phraseology, as used by the writer of the epistle before us, may have a literal significance, may have been intended to predict strictly that the world shall be burned and purged by fire at the second coming of the Lord. That such a catastrophe would take place in the last day, or occurred periodically, was notoriously the doctrine of the Persians and of the Stoics.6 For our own part, we are convinced that the latter is the real meaning of the writer. This seems to be shown alike by the connection of his argument, by the prosaic literality of detail with which he speaks, and by the earnest exhortations he immediately bases on the declaration he has made. He reasons that, since the world was destroyed once by water, it may be again by fire. The deluge he certainly regarded as literal: was not, then, in his conception, the fire, too, literal? He says, with calm, prosaic precision, "The earth and the works that are therein shall be burned up. Seeing, then, that all these things shall be dissolved, what manner of persons ought ye to be in all holiness, looking for a new heaven and a new earth, and striving that ye may be found by him in peace, without spot, and blameless!" We do not suppose this writer expected the annihilation of the physical creation, but only that the fire would destroy all unransomed creatures from its surface, and thoroughly purify its frame, and make it clean and fit for a new race of sinless and immortal men. "Tears shall not break from their full source, Nor Anguish stray from her Tartarean den, The golden years maintain a course Not undiversified, though smooth and even, We not be mock'd with glimpse and shadow then, Bright seraphs mix familiarly with men, And earth and sky compose a universal heaven." We have now arrived at the threshold of the last book in the New Testament, that book which, in the words of Lucke, "lies like a Sphinx at the lofty outgate of the Bible." There are three modes of interpreting the Apocalypse, each of which has had numerous and distinguished advocates. First, it may be regarded as a congeries of inspired prophecies, a scenic unfolding, with infallible foresight, of the chief events of Christian history from the first century till now, and onwards. This view the combined effect of the facts in the case and of all the just considerations appropriate to the subject compels us to reject. There is no evidence to support it; the application of it is crowded with egregious follies and absurdities. We thus simply state the result of our best investigation and judgment, for there is no space here to discuss it in detail. Secondly, the book may be taken as a symbolic exhibition of the transitional crises, exposures, struggles, and triumphs of the individual soul, a description of personal experience, a picture of the inner life of the Christian in a hostile world. The contents of it can be made to answer to such a characterization only by the determined exercise of an unrestrained fancy, or by the theory of a double sense, as the Swedenborgians expound it. This method of interpreting the Revelation is adopted, not by scholarly thinkers, who, by the light of learning and common sense, seek to discern what the writer meant to express, but by those persons who go to the obscure document, with traditional superstition and lawless imaginations, to see what lessons they can find there for their experimental guidance and edification. We suppose that every intelligent and informed student who has 6 Cicero de Nat. Deorum, lib. ii. cap. 46. Also Ovid, Minucius Felix, Seneca, and other authorities, as quoted by Rosenmuller on 2 Peter iii. 7. examined the subject with candid independence holds it as an exegetical axiom that the Apocalypse is neither a pure prophecy, blazing full illumination from Patmos along the track of the coming centuries, nor an exhaustive vision of the experience of the faithful Christian disciple. We are thus brought to the third and, as we think, the correct mode of considering this remarkable work. It is an outburst from the commingled and seething mass of opinions, persecutions, hopes, general experience, and expectation of the time when it was written. This is the view which would naturally arise in the mind of an impartial student from the nature of the case, and from contemplating the fervid faith, suffering, lowering elements, and thick coming events of the apostolic age. It also strikingly corresponds with numerous express statements and with the whole obvious spirit and plan of the work; for its descriptions and appeals have the vivid colors, the thrilling tones, the significantly detailed allusions to experiences and opinions and anticipations notoriously existing at the time, which belong to present or immediately impending scenes. This way of considering the Apocalypse likewise enables one who is acquainted with the early Jewish Christian doctrines, legends, and hopes, to explain clearly a large number of passages in it whose obscurity has puzzled many a commentator. We should be glad to give various illustrations of this, if our limits did not confine us strictly to the one class of texts belonging to the doctrine of a future life. Furthermore, nearly all the most gifted critics, such as Ewald, Bleek, Lucke, De Wette, those whose words on such matters as these are weightiest, now agree in concluding that the Revelation of John was a product springing out of the intense Jewish Christian belief and experience of the age, and referring, in its dramatic scenery and predictions, to occurrences supposed to be then transpiring or very close at hand. Finally, this view in regard to the Apocalypse is strongly confirmed by a comparison of that production with the several other works similar to it in character and nearly contemporaneous in origin. These apocryphal productions were written or compiled according to the pretty general agreement of the great scholars who have criticized them somewhere between the beginning of the first century before, and the middle of the second century after, Christ. We merely propose here, in the briefest manner, to indicate the doctrine of a future life contained in them, as an introduction to an exposition of that contained in the New Testament Apocalypse. In the TESTAMENT OF THE TWELVE PATRIARCHS it is written that "the under world shall be spoiled through the death of the Most Exalted."7 Again, we read, "The Lord shall make battle against the devil, and conquer him, and rescue from him the captive souls of the righteous. The just shall rejoice in Jerusalem, where the Lord shall reign himself, and every one that believes in him shall reign in truth in the heavens."8 Farther on the writer says of the Lord, after giving an account of his crucifixion, "He shall rise up from the under world and ascend into heaven."9 These extracts seem to imply the common doctrine of that time, that Christ descended into the under world, freed the captive saints, and rose into heaven, and would soon return to establish his throne in Jerusalem, to reign there for a time with his accepted followers. 7 See this book in Fabricii Codex Pseudepigraphus Veteris Testamenti, Test. Lev. sect. iv. 8 Ibid. Test. Dan. sect. v. 9 Ibid. Test. Benj. sect. ix. The FOURTH BOOK OF EZRA contains scattered declarations and hints of the same nature.10 It describes a vision of the Messiah, on Mount Zion, distributing crowns to those confessors of his name who had died in their fidelity.11 The world is said to be full of sorrows and oppressions; and as the souls of the just ask when the harvest shall come,12 for the good to be rewarded and the wicked to be punished, they are told that the day of liberation is not far distant, though terrible trials and scourges must yet precede it. "My Son Jesus shall be revealed." "My Son the Christ shall die; and then a new age shall come, the earth shall give up the dead, sinners shall be plunged into the bottomless abyss, and Paradise shall appear in all its glory."13 The "Son of God will come and consume his enemies with fire; but the elect will be protected and made happy."14 The ASCENSION OF ISAIAH is principally occupied with an account of the rapture of the soul of that prophet through the seven heavens, and of what he there saw and learned. It describes the descent of Christ, the beloved Son of God, through all the heavens, to the earth; his death; his resurrection after three days; his victory over Satan and his angels, who dwell in the welkin or higher region of the air; and his return to the right hand of God.15 It predicts great apostasy and sin among the disciples of the apostles, and much dissension respecting the nearness of the second advent of Christ.16 It emphatically declares that "Christ shall come with his angels, and shall drag Satan and his powers into Gehenna. Then all the saints shall descend from heaven in their heavenly clothing, and dwell in this world; while the saints who had not died shall be similarly clothed, and after a time leave their bodies here, that they may assume their station in heaven. The general resurrection and judgment will follow, when the ungodly will be devoured by fire."17 The author as Gesenius, with almost all the rest of the critics, says was unquestionably a Jewish Christian, and his principal design was to set forth the speedy second coming of Christ, and the glorious triumph of the saints that would follow with the condign punishment of the wicked. The first book of the SIBYLLINE ORACLES contains a statement that in the golden age the souls of all men passed peacefully into the under world, to tarry there until the judgment; a prediction of a future Messiah; and an account of his death, resurrection, and ascension. The second book begins with a description of the horrors that will precede the last time, threats against the persecuting tyrants, and promises to the faithful, especially to the martyrs, and closes with an account of the general judgment, when Elijah shall come from heaven, consuming flames break out, all souls be summoned to the tribunal of God at whose right hand Christ will sit, the bodies of the dead be raised, the righteous be purified, and the wicked be plunged into final ruin. The fundamental thought and aim of the apocryphal BOOK OF ENOCH are the second coming of Christ to judge the world, the encouragement of the Christians, and the warning 10 See the abstract of it given in section vi. of Stuart's Commentary on the Apocalypse. 11 Cap. ii. 12 Cap. iv. 13 Cap. v., vii. 14 Cap. xiii., xvi. 15 Ascensio Isaia Vatis, a Ricardo Laurence, cap. ix., x., xi. 16 Ibid. cap. ii., iii. 17 Ibid. cap. iv. 13-18. of their oppressors by declarations of approaching deliverance to those and vengeance to these. This is transparent at frequent intervals through the whole book.18 "Ye righteous, wait with patient hope: your cries have cried for judgment, and it shall come, and the gates of heaven shall be opened to you." "Woe to you, powerful oppressors, false witnesses! for you shall suddenly perish." "The voices of slain saints accusing their murderers, the oppressors of their brethren, reach to heaven with interceding cries for swift justice."19 When that justice comes, "the horse shall wade up to his breast, and the chariot shall sink to its axle, in the blood of sinners."20 The author teaches that the souls of men at death go into the under world, "a place deep and dark, where all souls shall be collected;" "where they shall remain in darkness till the day of judgment," the spirits of the righteous being in peace and joy, separated from the tormented spirits of the wicked, who have spurned the Messiah and persecuted his disciples.21 A day of judgment is at hand. "Behold, he cometh, with ten thousand of his saints, to execute judgment." Then the righteous shall rise from the under world, be approved, become as angels, and ascend to heaven. But the wicked shall not rise: they remain imprisoned below forever.22 The angels descend to earth to dwell with men, and the saints ascend to heaven to dwell with angels.23 "From beginning to end, like the Apocalypse, the book is filled," says Professor Stuart, (and the most careless reader must remark it,) "with threats for the wicked persecutors and consolations for the suffering pious." A great number of remarkable correspondences between passages in this book and passages in the Apocalypse solicit a notice which our present single object will not allow us to give them here. An under world divided into two parts, a happy for the good, a wretched for the bad; temporary woes prevailing on the earth; the speedy advent of Christ for a vindication of his power and his servants; the resurrection of the dead; the final translation of the accepted into heaven, and the hopeless dooming of the rejected into the abyss, these are the features in the book before us which we are now to remember. There is one other extant apocryphal book whose contents are strictly appropriate to the subject we have in hand, namely, the APOCALYPSE OF JOHN.24 It claims to be the work of the Apostle John himself. It represents John as going to Mount Tabor after the ascension of Christ, and there praying that it may be revealed to him when the second coming of Christ will occur, and what will be the consequences of it. In answer to his request, a long and minute disclosure is made. The substance of it is, that, after famines and woes, Antichrist will appear and reign three years. Then Enoch and Elijah will come to expose him; but they will die, and all men with them. The earth will be purified with fire, the dead will rise, Christ 18 Book of Enoch, translated into English by Dr. R. Laurence. See particularly the following places: i. 1 5; lii. 7; liv. 12; lxi. 15; lxii. 14, 15; xciv.; xcv.; civ. 19 Ibid. cap. ix. 9 11; xxii. 5 8; xlvii. 1-4. 20 Ibid. cap. xcviii. 3. 21 Ibid. cap. x. 6 9, 15, 16; xxii. 2 5, 11 13; cii. 6; ciii. 5. 22 Ibid. cap. xxii. 14, 15; xlv. 2; xlvi. 4; 1. 1-4. 23 cap. xxxviii. xl. 24 See the abstract of it given in Lucke's Einleit. in die Offenbar. Joh., cap. 2, sect. 17. will descend in pomp, with myriads of angels, and the judgment will follow. The spirits of Antichrist will be hurled into a gulf of outer darkness, so deep that a heavy stone would not plunge to the bottom in three years. Unbelievers, sinners, hypocrites, will be cast into the under world; while true Christians are placed at the right hand of Christ, all radiant with glory. The good and accepted will then dwell in an earthly paradise, with angels, and be free from all evils. In addition to these still extant Apocalypses, we have references in the works of the Fathers to a great many others long since perished; especially the Apocalypses of Adam, Abraham, Moses, Elijah, Hystaspes, Paul, Peter, Thomas, Cerinthus, and Stephen. So far as we have any clew, by preserved quotations or otherwise, to the contents of these lost productions, they seem to have been much occupied with the topics of the avenging and redeeming advent of the Messiah, the final judgment of mankind, the supernal and subterranean localities, the resurrection of the dead, the inauguration of an earthly paradise, the condemnation of the reprobate to the abyss beneath, the translation of the elect to the Angelic realm on high. These works, all taken together, were plainly the offspring of the mingled mass of glowing faiths, sufferings, fears, and hopes, of the age they belonged to. An acquaintance with them will help us to appreciate and explain many things in our somewhat kindred New Testament Apocalypse, by placing us partially in the circumstances and mental attitude of the writer and of those for whom it was written. The Persian Jewish and Jewish Christian notions and characteristics of the Book of Revelation are marked and prevailing, as every prepared reader must perceive. The threefold division of the universe into the upper world of the angels, the middle world of men, and the under world of the dead; the keys of the bottomless pit; the abode of Satan, the accuser, in heaven; his revolt; the war in the sky between his seduced host and the angelic army under Michael, and the thrusting down of the former; the banquet of birds on the flesh of kings, mighty men, and horses; the battle of Gog and Magog; the tarrying of souls under the altar of God; the temple in heaven containing the ark of the covenant, and the scene of a various ritual service; the twelve gates of the celestial city bearing the names of the twelve tribes of the children of Israel, and the twelve foundations of the walls having the names of the twelve Apostles of the Lamb; the bodily resurrection and general judgment, and the details of its sequel, all these doctrines and specimens of imagery, with a hundred others, carry us at once into the Zend Avesta, the Talmud, and the Ebionitish documents of the earliest Christians, who mixed their interpretations of the mission and teaching of Christ with the poetic visions of Zoroaster and the cabalistic dogmatics of the Pharisees. 25 It is astonishing that any intelligent person can peruse the Apocalypse and still suppose that it is occupied with prophecies of remote events, events to transpire successively in distant ages and various lands. Immediateness, imminency, hazardous urgency, swiftness, alarms, are written all over the book. A suspense, frightfully thrilling, fills it, as if the world were holding its breath in view of the universal crash that was coming with electric velocity. 25 See, e. g., Corrodi, Kritische Geschichte des Chiliasmus, band ii. th. 3 7; Gfrorer, Geschichte Urchristenthums, abth. ii. kap. 8 10; Schottgen in Apoc. xii. 6 9; ibid. in 2 Cor. v. 2. Four words compose the key to the Apocalypse: Rescue, Reward, Overthrow, Vengeance. The followers of Christ are now persecuted and slain by the tyrannical rulers of the earth. Let them be of good cheer: they shall speedily be delivered. Their tyrants shall be trampled down in "blood flowing up to the horse bridles," and they shall reign in glory. "Here is the faith and the patience of the saints," trusting that, if "true unto death, they shall have a crown of life," and "shall not be hurt of the second death," but shall soon rejoice over the triumphant establishment of the Messiah's kingdom and the condign punishment of his enemies who are now "making themselves drunk with the blood of the martyrs of Jesus." The Beast, described in the thirteenth chapter, is unquestionably Nero; and this fact shows the expected immediateness of the events pictured in connection with the rise and destruction of that monstrous despot.26 The truth of this representation is sealed by the very first verses of the book, indicating the nature of its contents and the period to which they refer: "The revelation of Jesus Christ, which God gave unto him, to show unto his servants things which must shortly come to pass: Blessed are they who hear the words of this prophecy and keep them; for the time is at hand." This rescue and reward of the faithful, this overthrow and punishment of the wicked, were to be effected by the agency of a unique and sublime personage, who was expected very soon to appear, with an army of angels from heaven, for this purpose. The conception of the nature, rank, and offices of Jesus Christ which existed in the mind of the writer of the Apocalypse is in some respects but obscurely hinted in the words he employs; yet the relationship of those words to other and fuller sources of information in the contemporaneous notions of his countrymen is such as to give us great help in arriving at his ideas. He represents Christ as distinct from and subordinate to God. He makes Christ say, "To him that overcometh I will give power over the nations, even as I received of my Father." He characterizes him as "the beginning of the creation of God," and describes him as "mounted on a white horse, leading the heavenly armies to war, and his name is called the Logos of God." These terms evidently correspond to the phrases in the introduction to the Gospel of John, and in the Book of the Wisdom of Solomon, where are unfolded some portions of that great doctrine, so prevalent among the early Fathers, which was borrowed and adapted by them from the Persian Honover, the Hebrew Wisdom, and the Platonic Logos.27 "In the beginning was the Logos, and the Logos was with God, and all things were made by him;... and the Logos was made flesh and dwelt among us."28 "God of our fathers, and Lord of mercy, who hast made all things by thy Logos."29 "Thine almighty Logos leaped down from heaven from his royal throne, a fierce warrior, into the midst of a land of destruction."30 "Plainly enough, the Apocalyptic view of Christ is based on that profound Logos doctrine so copiously 26 See the excursus by Stuart in his Commentary on the Apoc. xiii. 18, which conclusively shows that the Beast could be no other than Nero. 27 Lucke, Einleitung in das Evang. Joh. 28 Evang. Joh. i. 1, 3, 14. 29 Wisdom of Solomon, ix. 1, 2. 30 Ibid. xviii. 15. developed in the writings of Philo Judaus and so distinctly endorsed in numerous passages of the New Testament. First, there is the absolute God. Next, there is the Logos, the first begotten Son and representative image of God, the instrumental cause of the creation, the head of all created beings. This Logos, born into our world as a man, is Christ. Around him are clustered all the features and actions that compose the doctrine of the last things. The vast work of redemption and judgment laid upon him has in part been already executed, and in part remains yet to be done. We are first to inquire, then, into the significance of what the writer of the Apocalypse supposes has already been effected by Christ in his official relations between God and men, so far as regards the general subject of a life beyond the grave. A few brief and vague but comprehensive expressions include all that he has written which furnishes us a guide to his thoughts on this particular. He describes Jesus, when advanced to his native supereminent dignity in heaven, as the "Logos, clothed in a vesture dipped in blood," and also as "the Lamb that was slain," to whom the celestial throng sing a new song, saying, "Thou hast redeemed us unto God by thy blood." Christ, he says, "loved us, and washed us from our sins in his own blood." He represents the risen Savior as declaring, "I am he that liveth, and was dead, and, behold, I am alive for evermore, and have the keys of the under world and of death." "Jesus Christ," again he writes, "is the faithful witness, the first begotten from the dead." What, now, is the real meaning of these pregnant phrases? What is the complete doctrine to which fragmentary references are here made? We are confident that it is this. Mankind, in consequence of sin, were alienated from God, and banished, after death, to Hades, the subterranean empire of shadows. Christ, leaving his exalted state in heaven, was born into the world as a messenger, or "faithful witness," of surprising grace to them from God, and died that he might fulfil his mission as the agent of their redemption, by descending into the great prison realm of the dead, and, exerting his irresistible power, return thence to light and life, and ascend into heaven as the forerunner and pledge of the deliverance and ascension of others. Moses Stuart, commenting on the clause "first begotten from the dead," says, "Christ was in fact the first who enjoyed the privilege of a resurrection to eternal glory and he was constituted the leader of all who should afterwards be thus raised from the dead."31 All who had died, with the sole exception of Christ, were yet in the under world. He, since his triumphant subdual of its power and return to heaven, possessed authority over it, and would ere long summon its hosts to resurrection, as he declares: "I was dead, and, behold, I am alive for ever more, and have the keys of the under world." The figure is that of a conqueror, who, returning from a captured and subdued city, bears the key of it with him, a trophy of his triumph and a pledge of its submission. The text "Thou hast redeemed us unto God by thy blood" is not received in an absolutely literal sense by any theological sect whatever. The severest Calvinist does not suppose that the physical blood shed on the cross is meant; but he explains it as denoting the atoning efficacy of the vicarious sufferings of Christ. But this interpretation is as forced and constructive an exposition as the one we have given, and is not 31 Stuart, Comm. in Apoc. i. 5. warranted by the theological opinions of the apostolic age, which do, on the contrary, support and necessitate the other. The direct statement is, that men were redeemed unto God by the blood of Christ. All agree that in the word "blood" is wrapped up a figurative meaning. The Calvinistic dogma makes it denote the satisfaction of the law of retributive justice by a substitutional anguish. We maintain that a true historical exegesis, with far less violence to the use of language, and consistently with known contemporaneous ideas, makes it denote the death of Christ, and the events which were supposed to have followed his death, namely, his appearance among the dead, and his ascent to heaven, preparatory to their ascent, when they should no longer be exiled in Hades, but should dwell with God. Out of an abundance of illustrative authorities we will cite a few. Augustine describes "the ancient saints" as being "in the under world, in places most remote from the tortures of the impious, waiting for Christ's blood and descent to deliver them."32 Epiphanius says, "Christ was the first that rose from the under world to heaven from the time of the creation."33 Lactantius affirms, "Christ's descent into the under world and ascent into heaven were necessary to give man the hope of a heavenly immortality."34 Hilary of Poictiers says, "Christ went down into Hades for two reasons: first, to fulfil the law imposed on mankind that every soul on leaving the body shall descend into the under world, and, secondly, to preach the Christian religion to the dead."35 Chrysostom writes, "When the Son of God cometh, the earth shall burst open, and all the men that ever were born, from Adam's birth up to that day, shall rise up out of the earth."36 Irenaus testifies, "I have heard from a certain presbyter, who heard it from those who had seen the apostles and received their instructions, that Christ descended into the under world, and preached the gospel and his own advent to the souls there, and remitted the sins of those who believed on him."37 Eusebius records that, "after the ascension of Jesus, Thomas sent Thaddeus, one of the Seventy, to Abgarus, King of Edessa. This disciple told the king how that Jesus, having been crucified, descended into the under world, and burst the bars which had never before been broken, and rose again, and also raised with himself the dead that had slept for ages; and how he descended alone, but ascended with a great multitude to his Father; and how he was about to come again to judge the living and the dead."38 Finally, we cite the following undeniable statement from Daille's famous work on the "Right Use of the Fathers:" "That heaven shall not be opened till the second coming of Christ and the day of judgment, that during this time the souls of all men, with a few exceptions, are shut up in the under world, was held by Justin Martyr, Irenaus, Tertullian, Augustine, Origen, Lactantius, Victorinus, Ambrose, Chrysostom, Theodoret, OEcumenius, Aretas, Prudentius, Theophylact, Bernard, 32 De Civitate Dei, lib. xx. cap. 15. 33 In Resurrectionem Christi. 34 Divin. Instit. lib. iv. cap. 19, 20. 35 Hilary in Ps. cxviii. et cxix. 36 Homil. in Rom. viii. 25. 37 Adv. Hares. lib. iv. sect. 45. 38 Ecc. Hist. lib. i. cap. 13. and many others, as is confessed by all. This doctrine is literally held by the whole Greek Church at the present day. Nor did any of the Latins expressly deny any part of it until the Council of Florence, in the year of our Lord 1439."39 In view of these quotations, and of volumes of similar ones which might be adduced, we submit to the candid reader that the meaning most probably in the mind of the writer of the Apocalypse when he wrote the words "redemption by the Blood of Christ" was this, the rescue certified to men by the commissioned power and devoted self sacrifice of Christ in dying, going down to the mighty congregation of the dead, proclaiming good tidings, breaking the hopeless bondage of death and Hades, and ascending as the pioneer of a new way to God. If before his death all men were supposed to go down to helpless confinement in the under world on account of sin, but after his resurrection the promise of an ascension to heaven was made to them through his gospel and exemplification, then well might the grateful believers, fixing their hearts on his willing martyrdom in their behalf, exclaim, "He loved us, and washed us from our sins in his own blood, and hath made us kings and priests unto God." It is certainly far more natural, far more reasonable, to suppose that the scriptural phrase "the blood of Christ" means "the death of Christ," with its historical consequences, than to imagine that it signifies a complicated and mysterious scheme of sacerdotal or ethical expiation, especially when that scheme is unrelated to contemporaneous opinion, irreconcilable withmorality,and confessedly nowhere plainly stated in Scripture, but a matter of late and laborious construction and inference. We have not spoken of the strictly moral and subjective mission and work of Christ, as conceived by the author of the Apocalypse, his influences to cleanse the springs of character, purify and inspire the heart, rectify and elevate the motives, regenerate and sanctify the soul and the life, because all this is plain and unquestioned. But he also believed in something additional to this, an objective function: and what that was we think is correctly explained above. We are next to inquire more immediately into the closing parts of the doctrine of the last things. Christ has appeared, declared the tidings of grace, died, visited the dead, risen victoriously, and gone back to heaven, where he now tarries. But there remain many things for him, as the eschatological King, yet to do. What are they? and what details are connected with them? First of all, he is soon to return from heaven, visiting the earth a second time. The first chapter of the book begins by declaring that it is "a revelation of things which must shortly come to pass," and "blessed is he that readeth; for the time is at hand." The last chapter is full of such repetitions as these: "things which must shortly be done;" "Behold, I come quickly;" "The time is at hand;" "He that is unjust, let him be unjust still, and he that is holy, let him be holy still;" "Surely I come quickly;" "Even so, come, Lord Jesus." Herder says, in his acute and eloquent work on the Apocalypse, "There is but one voice in it, through all its epistles, seals, trumpets, signs, and plagues, namely, THE LORD IS COMING!" The souls of the martyrs, impatiently waiting, under the altar, the completion of the great drama, cry, "How long, O Lord, dost thou delay to avenge our blood?" and they are told that "they shall 39 Lib. ii. cap. 4, pp. 272, 273 of the English translation. rest only for a little season." Tertullian writes, without a trace of doubt, "Is not Christ quickly to come from heaven with a quaking of the whole universe, with a shuddering of the world, amidst the wailings of all men save the Christians?" The Apocalyptic seer makes Christ say, "Behold, I come as a thief in the night: blessed is he that watcheth." Accordingly, "a sentinel gazed wherever a Christian prayed, and, though all the watchmen died without the sight," the expectation lingered for centuries. The Christians of the New Testament time to borrow the words of one of the most competent of living scholars "carried forward to the account of Christ in years to come the visions which his stay, as they supposed, was too short to realize, and assigned to him a quick return to finish what was yet unfulfilled. The suffering, the scorn, the rejection of men, the crown of thorns, were over and gone; the diadem, the clarion, the flash of glory, the troop of angels, were ready to burst upon the world, and might be looked for at midnight or at noon."40 Secondly, when Christ returned, he was to avenge the sufferings and reward the fidelity of his followers, tread the heathen tyrants in the wine press of his wrath, and crown the persecuted saints with a participation in his glory. When "the time of his wrath is come, he shall give reward to the prophets, and to the saints, and to them that fear his name, and shall destroy them that destroy the earth." "The kings, captains, mighty men, rich men, bondmen, and freemen, shall cry to the mountains and rocks, Fall on us, and hide us from the wrath of the Lamb." "To him that overcometh, and doeth my works, I will give power over the Gentiles;" "I will give him the morning star;" "I will grant him to sit with me on my throne." Independently, moreover, of these distinct texts, the whole book is pervaded with the thought that, at the speedy second advent of the Messiah, all his enemies shall be fearfully punished, his servants eminently compensated and glorified.41 Thirdly, the writer of the Apocalypse expected in accordance with that Jewish anticipation of an earthly Messianic kingdom which was adopted with some modifications by the earliest Christians that Jesus, on his return, having subdued his foes, would reign for a season, in great glory, on the earth, surrounded by the saints. "A door was opened in heaven," and the seer looked in, and saw a vision of the redeemed around the throne, and heard them "singing a new song unto the Lamb that was slain," in the course of which, particularizing the favors obtained for them by him, they say, "We shall reign upon the earth." Again, the writer says that "the worshippers of the beast and of his image shall be tormented with fire and brimstone in the presence of the holy angels, and in the presence of the Lamb." Now, the lake of sulphurous fire into which the reprobate were to be thrust was located, not in the sky, but under the surface of the earth. The foregoing statement, therefore, implies that Christ and his angels would be tarrying on the earth when the final woe of the condemned was inflicted. But we need not rely on indirect arguments. The writer explicitly declares 40 Martineau, Sermon, "The God of Revelation his own Interpreter." 41 It seems to have been a Jewish expectation that when the Messiah should appear he would thrust his enemies into Hades. In a passage of the Talmud Satan is represented as seeing the Messiah under the Throne of Glory: he falls on his face at the sight, exclaiming, "This is the Messiah, who will precipitate me and all the Gentiles into the under world." Bertholdt, Christologia, sect. 36. that, in his vision of what was to take place, the Christian martyrs, "those who were slain for the witness of Jesus, lived and reigned with Christ a thousand years, while the rest of the dead lived not again until the thousand years were finished. This is the first resurrection. Then Satan was loosed out of his prison, and gathered the hosts of Gog and Magog to battle, and went up on the breadth of the earth and compassed the camp of the saints about, and fire came down out of heaven and devoured them." It seems impossible to avoid seeing in this passage a plain statement of the millennial reign of Christ on the earth with his risen martyrs. Fourthly, at the termination of the period just referred to, the author of the Apocalypse thought all the dead would be raised and the tribunal of the general judgment held. As Lactantius says, "All souls are detained in custody in the under world until the last day; then the just shall rise and reign; afterwards there will be another resurrection of the wicked."42 "The time of the dead is come, that they should be judged." "And I saw the dead, small and great, stand before God; and the books were opened, and the dead were judged out of those things which were written in the books, according to their works. And the sea gave up the dead which were in it, and death and the under world delivered up the dead which were in them, and they were judged, every man according to his works." "Blessed and holy is he that hath part in the first resurrection: on such the second death hath no power, but they shall be priests of God and of Christ, and reign with him a thousand years." This text, with its dark and tacit reference by contrast to those who have no lot in the millennial kingdom, brings us to the next step in our exposition. For, fifthly, after the general resurrection and judgment at the close of the thousand years, the sentence of a hopeless doom to hell is to be executed on the condemned. "Whosoever was not found written in the book of life was cast into the lake of fire." "The fearful, and unbelieving, and the abominable, and murderers, and whoremongers, and sorcerers, and idolaters, and all liars, shall have their part in the lake which burneth with fire and brimstone; which is the second death." The "second death" is a term used by Onkelos in his Targum,43 and sometimes in the Talmud, and by the Rabbins generally. It denotes, as employed by them, the return of the wicked into hell after their summons thence for judgment.44 In the Apocalypse, its relative meaning is this. The martyrs, who were slain for their allegiance to the gospel, died once, and descended into the under world, the common realm of death. At the coming of Christ they were to rise and join him, and to die no more. This was the first resurrection. At the close of the millennium, all the rest of the dead were to rise and be judged, and the rejected portion of them were to be thrust back again below. This was a second death for them, a fate from which the righteous were exempt. There was a difference, greatly for the worse in the latter, between their condition in the two deaths. In the former they descended to the dark under world, the silent and temporary abode of the universal dead; but in the latter they went down "into the lake of fire and brimstone, where the devil and the beast and the false prophet are, and shall be tormented day and night for 42 Divin. Instit. lib. vii. cap. 20, 21, 26. 43 on Deut. xxxiii. 6. 44 Gfrorer, Geschichte des Urchristenthums, kap. 10. s. 289. ever and ever." For "Death and Hades, having delivered up the dead which were in them, were cast into the lake of fire. This is the second death." It is plain that here the common locality of departed souls is personified as two demons, Death and Hades, and the real thought meant to be conveyed is, that this region is to be sunk beneath a "Tartarean drench," which shall henceforth roll in burning billows over its victims there, "the smoke of their torment ascending up for ever and ever." This awful imagery of a lake of flaming sulphur, in which the damned were plunged, was of comparatively late origin or adoption among the Jews, from whom the Christians received it. The native Hebrew conception of the state of the dead was that of the voiceless gloom and dismal slumber of Sheol, whither all alike went. The notion of fiery tortures inflicted there on the wicked was either conceived by the Pharisees from the loathed horrors of the filth fire kept in the vale of Hinnom, outside of Jerusalem, (which is the opinion of most commentators,) or was imagined from the sea of burning brimstone that showered from heaven and submerged Sodom and Gomorrah in a vast fire pool, (which is maintained by Bretschneider and others,) or was derived from the Egyptians, or the Persians, or the Hindus, or the Greeks, all of whom had lakes and rivers of fire in their theological hells, long before history reveals the existence of such a belief among the Jews, (which is the conclusion of many learned authors and critics.) We have now reached the last feature in the scheme of eschatology shadowed forth in the Apocalypse, the most obscure and difficult point of all, namely, the locality and the principal elements of the final felicity of the saved. The difficulty of clearly settling this question is twofold, arising, first, from the swift and partial glimpses which are all that the writer yields us on the subject, and, secondly, from the impossibility of deciding with precision how much of his language is to be regarded as figurative and how much as literal, where the poetic presentation of symbol ends and where the direct statement of fact begins. A large part of the book is certainly written in prophetic figures and images, spiritual visions, never meant to be accepted in a prosaic sense with severe detail. And yet, at the same time, all these imaginative emblems were, unquestionably, intended to foreshadow, in various kinds and degrees, doctrinal conceptions, hopes, fears, threats, promises, historical realities, past, present, or future. But to separate sharply the dress and the substance, the superimposed symbols and the underlying realities, is always an arduous, often an impossible, achievement. The writer of the Apocalypse plainly believed that the souls of all, except the martyrs, at death descended to the under world, and would remain there till after the second coming of Christ. But whether he thought that the martyrs were excepted, and would at death immediately rise into heaven and there await the fulfilment of time, is a disputed point. For our own part, we think it extremely doubtful, and should rather decide in the negative. In the first place, his expressions on this subject seem essentially figurative. He describes the prayers of the saints as being poured out from golden vials and burned as incense on a golden altar in heaven before the throne of God. "Under that altar," he says, "I saw the souls of them that were slain for the word of God." If the souls of the martyrs, in his belief, were really admitted into heaven, would he have conceived of them as huddled under the altar and not walking at liberty? Does not the whole idea appear rather like a rhetorical image than like a sober theological doctrine? True, the scene is pictured in heaven; but then it is a picture, and not a conclusion. With De Wette, we regard it, not as a dogmatic, but as a poetical and prophetic, representation. And in regard to the seer's vision of the innumerable company of the redeemed in heaven, surrounding the throne and celebrating the praises of God and the Lamb, surely it is obvious enough that this, like the other affiliated visions, is a vision, by inspired insight, in the present tense, of what is yet to occur in the successive unfolding of the rapid scenes in the great drama of Christ's redemptive work, a prophetic vision of the future, not of what already is. We know that in Tertullian's time the idea was entertained by some that Christian martyrs, as a special allotment, should pass at once from their sufferings to heaven, without going, as all others must, into the under world; but the evidence preponderates with us, upon the whole, that no such doctrine is really implied in the Apocalypse. In the fourteenth chapter, the author describes the hundred and forty four thousand who were redeemed from among men, as standing with the Lamb on Mount Zion and hearing a voice from heaven singing a new song, which no man, save the hundred and forty four thousand, could learn. The probabilities are certainly strongest that this great company of the selected "first fruits unto God and the Lamb," now standing on the earth, had not yet been in heaven; for they only learn the heavenly song which is sung before the throne by hearing it chanted down from heaven in a voice like multitudinous thunders. Finally, the most convincing proof that the writer did not suppose that the martyrs entered heaven before the second advent of Christ a proof which, taken by itself, would seem to leave no doubt on the subject is this. In the famous scene detailed in the twentieth chapter usually called by commentators the martyr scene it is said that "the souls of them that were beheaded for the word of God, and which had not worshipped the beast, lived and reigned with Christ a thousand years. This is the first resurrection." Now, is it not certain that if the writer supposed these souls had never been in the under world, but in heaven, he could not have designated their preliminary descent from above as "the first resurrection," the first rising up? That phrase implies, we think, that all the dead were below: the faithful and chosen ones were to rise first to reign a while with Jesus, and after that the rest should rise to be judged. After that judgment, which was expected to be on earth in presence of the descended Lamb and his angels, the lost were to be plunged, as we have already seen, into the subterranean pit of torture, the unquenchable lake of fire. But what was to become of the righteous and redeemed? Whether, by the Apocalyptic representation, they were to remain forever on earth, or to ascend into heaven, is a question which has been zealously debated for over sixteen hundred years, and in some theological circles is still warmly discussed. Were the angels who came down to the earth with Christ to the judgment never to return to their native seats? Were they permanently to transfer their deathless citizenship from the sky to Judea? Were the constitution of human nature and the essence of human society to be abrogated, and the members of the human family to cease enlarging, lest they should overflow the borders of the world? Was God himself literally to desert his ancient abode, and, with the celestial city and all its angelic hierarchy, float from the desolated firmament to Mount Zion, there to set up the central eternity of his throne. We cannot believe that such is the meaning, which the seer of the Apocalypse wished to convey by his symbolic visions and pictures, any more than we can believe that he means literally to say that he saw "a woman in heaven clothed with the sun, and the moon under her feet, and upon her head a crown of twelve stars," or that there were actually "armies in heaven, seated on white horses and clothed in fine linen, white and clean, which is the righteousness of saints." Our conviction is that he expected the Savior would ascend with his angels and the redeemed into heaven, the glorious habitation of God above the sky. He speaks in one place of the "temple of God in heaven, into which no man could enter until the seven plagues were fulfilled," and in another place says that the "great multitude of the redeemed are before the throne of God in heaven, and serve him day and night in his temple;" and in still another place he describes two prophets, messengers of God, who had been slain, as coming to life, "and hearing a great voice from heaven saying to them, 'Come up hither;' and they ascended up to heaven in a cloud, and their enemies beheld them." De Wette writes, "It is certain that an abstract conception of heavenly blessedness with God duskily hovers over the New Testament eschatology." We think this is true of the Book of Revelation. It was a Persian Jewish idea that the original destination of man, had he not sinned, was heaven. The apostles thought it was a part of the mission of Christ to restore that lost privilege. We think the writer of the Apocalypse shared in that belief. His allusions to a new heaven and a new earth, and to the descent of a New Jerusalem from heaven, and other related particulars, are symbols neither novel nor violent to Jewish minds, but both familiar and expressive, to denote a purifying glorification of the world, the installation of a divine kingdom, and the brilliant reign of universal righteousness and happiness among men, as if under the very eyes of the Messiah and the very sceptre of God. The Christians shall reign in Jerusalem, which shall be adorned with indescribable splendors and shall be the centre of a world wide dominion, the saved nations of the earth surrounding it and "walking in the light of it, their kings bringing their glory and honor into it." "God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes, and there shall be no more death." That is, upon the whole, as we understand the scattered hints relevant to the subject to imply, when Christ returns to the Father with his chosen, he will leave a regenerated earth, with Jerusalem for its golden and peerless capital, peopled, and to be peopled, with rejoicing and immortal men, who will keep the commandments, be exempt from ancient evils, hold intimate communion with God and the Lamb, and, from generation to generation, pass up to heaven through that swift and painless change, alluded to by Paul, whereby it was intended at the first that sinless man, his corruptible and mortal putting on incorruption and immortality, should be fitted for the companionship of angels in the pure radiance of the celestial world, and should be translated thither without tasting the bitterness of death, which was supposed to be the subterranean banishment of the disembodied ghost. CHAPTER IV. PAUL'S DOCTRINE OF A FUTURE LIFE. THE principal difficulty in arriving at the system of thought and faith in the mind of Paul arises from the fragmentary character of his extant writings. They are not complete treatises drawn out in independent statements,butspecial letters full of latent implications. They were written to meet particular emergencies, to give advice, to convey or ask information and sympathy, to argue or decide concerning various matters to a considerable extent of a personal or local and temporal nature. Obviously their author never suspected they would be the permanent and immensely influential documents they have since become. They were not composed as orderly developments or full presentations of a creed, but rather as supplements to more adequate oral instruction previously imparted. He says to the Thessalonians, "Brethren, stand fast and hold the traditions which ye have been taught, whether by word or by our epistle." Several of his letters also perhaps many have been lost. He exhorts the Colossians to "read likewise the epistle from Laodicea." In his present First Epistle to the Corinthians he intimates that he had previously corresponded with them, in the words, "I wrote to you in a letter." There are good reasons, too, for supposing that he transmitted other epistles of which we have now no account. Owing, therefore, to the facts that his principal instructions were given by word of mouth, and that his surviving writings set forth no systematic array of doctrines, we have no choice left, if we desire to know what his opinions concerning the future life were, when deduced and arranged, but to exercise our learning and our faculties upon the imperfect discussions and the significant hints and clews in his extant epistles. Bringing these together, in the light of contemporary Pharisaic and Christian conceptions and opinions, we may construct a system from them which will represent his theory; somewhat as the naturalist from a few fragmentary bones describes the entire skeleton to which they belonged. As we proceed to follow this process, we must particularly remember the leading notions in the doctrinal belief of the Jews at that period, and the fact that Paul himself was "brought up at the feet of Gamaliel," "after the most straitest order of the sect, a Pharisee." When on trial at Jerusalem, he cried, "Men and brethren, I am a Pharisee, the son of a Pharisee: of the hope of the resurrection of the dead I am called in question." We can hardly suppose that he would entirely throw off the influence and form of the Pharisaic dogmas and grasp Christianity in its pure spirituality. It is most reasonable to expect what we shall find actually the fact that he would mix the doctrinal and emotional results of his Pharisaic training with the teachings of Christ, thus forming a composite system considerably modified from any then existing. Indeed, a great many obscure texts in Paul may be made perspicuous by citations from the old Talmudists. Considering the value and the importance of this means of illustrating the New Testament, it is neglected by modern commentators in a very remarkable manner. In common with his countrymen and the Gentiles, Paul undoubtedly believed in a world of light and bliss situated over the sky, where the Deity, surrounded by his angels, reigns in immortal splendor. According to the Greeks, Zeus and the other gods, with a few select heroes, there lived an imperishable life. According to the Hebrews, there was "the house of Jehovah," "the habitation of eternity," "the world of holy angels." The Old Testament contains many sublime allusions to this place. Jacob in his dream saw a ladder set up that reached unto heaven, and the angels were ascending and descending upon it. Fixing his eyes upon the summit, the patriarch exclaimed, not referring, as is commonly supposed, to the ground on which he lay, but to the opening in the sky through which the angels were passing and repassing, "Surely this is the house of God and this the gate of heaven." Jehovah is described as "riding over the heaven of heavens;" as "treading upon the arch of the sky." The firmament is spoken of as the solid floor of his abode, where "he layeth the beams of his chambers in the waters," the "waters above," which the Book of Genesis says were "divided from the waters beneath." Though this divine world on high was in the early ages almost universally regarded as a local reality, it was not conceived by Jews or Gentiles to be the destined abode of human souls. It was thought to be exclusively occupied by Jehovah and his angels, or by the gods and their messengers. Only here and there were scattered a few dim traditions, or poetic myths, of a prophet, a hero, a god descended man, who, as a special favor, had been taken up to the supernal mansions. The common destination of the disembodied spirits of men was the dark,stupendous realms of the under world. As Augustine observes, "Christ died after many; he rose before any: by dying he suffered what many had suffered before; by rising he did what no one had ever done before."1 These ideas of the celestial and the infernal localities and of the fate of man were of course entertained by Paul when he became a Christian. A few texts by way of evidence of this fact will here suffice. "That at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, of those in heaven, and those on earth, and those under the earth." "He that descended first into the lower parts of the earth is the same also that ascended up far above all heavens." The untenableness of that explanation which makes the descent into the lower parts of the earth refer to Christ's descent to earth from his pre existent state in heaven must be evident, as it seems to us, to every mind. Irenaus, discussing this very text from Ephesians, exposes the absurdity and stigmatizes the heresy of those who say that the infernal world is this earth, ("qui dicunt inferos quidem esse hunc mundum.")2 "I knew a man caught up to the third heaven, . . . caught up into paradise." The threefold heaven of the Jews, here alluded to, was, first, the region of the air, supposed to be inhabited by evil spirits. Paul repeatedly expresses this idea, as when he speaks of "the prince of the power of the air, the spirit that worketh in the children of disobedience," and when he says, "For we wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness, against wicked spirits in heavenly places." The second heaven comprised the region of the planetary bodies. The third lay beyond the firmament, and was the actual residence of God and the angelic hosts. These quotations, sustained as they are by the well known previous opinions of the Jews, as well as by numerous unequivocal texts in the writings of the other apostles and by many additional ones in those 1 Enarratio in Psalmum XC. 2 Adv. Hares. lib. v. cap. 31. of Paul, are conclusive evidence that he believed in the received heaven above the blue ether and stellar dome, and in the received Hadean abyss beneath the earth. In the absence of all evidence to the contrary, every presumption justifies the supposition that he also believed as we know all his orthodox contemporaries did that that under world was the abode of all men after death, and that that over world was solely the dwelling place of God and the angels. Nay, we are not left to conjecture; for he expressly declares of God that he "dwelleth in the light which no man can approach unto." This conclusion will be abundantly established in the course of the following exposition. With these preliminaries, we are prepared to see what was Paul's doctrine of death and of salvation. There are two prevalent theories on this subject, both of which we deem partly scriptural, neither of them wholly so. On the one extreme, the consistent disciple of Augustine the historic Calvinist attributes to the apostle the belief that the sin of Adam was the sole cause of literal death, that but for Adam's fall men would have lived on the earth forever or else have been translated bodily to heaven without any previous process of death. That such really was not the view held by Paul we are convinced. Indeed, there is one prominent feature in his faith which by itself proves that the disengagement of the soul from the material frame did not seem to him an abnormal event caused by the contingency of sin. We refer to his doctrine of two bodies, the "outward man" and the "inward man," the "earthly house" and the "heavenly house," the "natural body" and the "spiritual body." Neander says this is "an express assertion" of Paul's belief that man was not literally made mortal by sin, but was naturally destined to emerge from the flesh into a higher form of life.3 Paul thought that, in the original plan of God, man was intended to drop his gross, corruptible body and put on an incorruptible one, like the "glorious body" of the risen Christ. He distinctly declares, "Flesh and blood cannot inherit the kingdom of God." Therefore, we cannot interpret the word "death" to mean merely the separation of the soul from its present tabernacle, when he says, "By one man sin entered into the world, and death by sin; and so death passed upon all men." On the other extreme, the fully developed Pelagian the common Unitarian holds that the word "death" is always used in the arguments of Paul in a spiritual or figurative sense, merely meaning moral alienation from God in guilt, misery, and despair. Undoubtedly it is used thus in many instances, as when it is written, "I was alive without the law once; but, when the commandment came, sin rose to life, and I died." But in still more numerous cases it means something more than the consciousness of sin and the resulting wretchedness in the breast, and implies something external, mechanical, visible, as it were. For example, "Since by man came death, by man came also the resurrection of the dead." Any one who reads the context of this sentence may see that the terms "death" and "resurrection" antithetically balance each other, and refer not to an inward experience, but to an outward event, not to a moral change, but to the physical descent and resurrection. It is certain that here the words are not employed in a moral sense. The phraseology Paul uses in stating the connection of the sin of Adam with death, the connection of the resurrection of Christ with immortal life, is too peculiar, emphatic, and extensive not to be loaded with 3 Planting and Training, Ryland's trans. p. 240. a more general and vivid significance than the simple unhappiness of a sense of guilt, the simple peace and joy of a reconciled conscience. The advocates, then, of both theories the Calvinist asserting that Paul supposed sin to be the only reason why we do not live eternally in the world with our present organization, and the Rationalist asserting that the apostle never employs the word "death" except with a purely interior signification are alike beset by insuperable difficulties, perplexed by passages which defy their fair analysis and force them either to use a violent interpretation or to confess their ignorance. We must therefore seek out some third view, which, rejecting the errors, shall combine the truths and supply the defects of the two former. We have now to present such a view, a theory of the Pauline doctrine of the last things which obviously explains and fills out all the related language of the epistles. We suppose he unfolded it fully in his preaching, while in his supplementary and personal letters he only alludes to such disconnected parts of it as then rose upon his thoughts. A systematic development of it as a whole, with copious allusions and labored defences, was not needed then, as it might seem to us to have been. For the fundamental notions on which it rested were the common belief of the nation and age. Geology and astronomy had not disturbed the credit of a definitely located Hades and heaven, nor had free metaphysics sharpened the common mind to skeptical queries. The view itself, as we conceive it occupied the mind of Paul, is this. Death was a part of the creative plan for us from the first, simply loosing the spirit from its corruptible body, clothing it with an ethereal vehicle, and immediately translating it to heaven. Sin marred this plan, alienated us from the Divine favor, introduced all misery, physical and moral, and doomed the soul, upon the fall of its earthly house, to descend into the slumberous gloom of the under world. Thus death was changed from a pleasant organic fulfilment and deliverance, spiritual investiture and heavenly ascent, to a painful punishment condemning the naked ghost to a residence below the grave. As Ewald says, through Adam's sin "death acquired its significance as pain and punishment."4 Herein is the explanation of the word "death" as used by Paul in reference to the consequence of Adam's offence. Christ came to reveal the free grace and gift of God in redeeming us from our doom and restoring our heavenly destiny. This he exemplified, in accordance with the Father's will, by dying, descending into the dreary world of the dead, vanquishing the forces there, rising thence, and ascending to the right hand of the throne of heaven as our forerunner. On the very verge of the theory just stated as Paul's, Neander hovers in his exposition of the apostle's views, but fails to grasp its theological scope and consequences. Krabbe declares that "death did not arise from the native perishableness of the body, but from sin."5 This statement Neander controverts, maintaining that "sin introduced no essential change in the physical organization of man, but merely in the manner in which his earthly existence terminates. Had it not been for sin, death would have been only the form of a higher development of life."6 Exactly so. With innocence, the soul at death 4 Sendschreiben des Apostels Paulus, s. 210. 5 Die Lehre von oer Sunde und vom Tode, cap. xi, s. 192. 6 Neander's Planting and Training, book vi. ch. 1. would have ascended pleasantly, in a new body, to heaven; but sin compelled it to descend painfully, without any body, to Hades. We will cite a few of the principal texts from which this general outline has been inferred and constructed. The substance of the fifth chapter of the Epistle to the Romans may be thus stated. As by the offence of one, sin entered into the world, and the judgment of the law came upon all men in a sentence of condemnation unto death, so by the righteousness of one, the free gift of God came upon all men in a sentence of justification unto life; that as sin, by Adam's offence, hath reigned unto death, so grace, by Christ's righteousness, might reign unto eternal life. Now, we maintain that the words "death" and "life" cannot in the present instance be entirely explained, in a spiritual sense, as signifying disturbance and woe in the breast, or peace and bliss there, because the whole connected discourse is not upon the internal contingent experience of individuals, but upon the common necessity of the race, an objective sentence passed upon humanity, followed by a public gift of reversal and annulment. So, too, we deny that the words can be justly taken, in their strictly literal sense, as meaning cessation or continuance of physical existence on the earth, because, in the first place, that would be inconsistent with the doctrine of a spiritual body within the fleshly one and of a glorious inheritance reserved in heaven, a doctrine by which Paul plainly shows that he recognised a natural organic provision, irrespective of sin, for a change in the form and locality of human existence. Secondly, we submit that death and life here cannot mean departure from the body or continuance in it, because that is a matter with which Christ's mission did in no way interfere, but left exactly as it was before; whereas, in the thing really meant by Paul, Christ is represented as standing, at least partially, in the same relation between life and men that Adam stands in between death and men. The reply to the question, What is that relation? will at once define the genuine signification of the terms "death" and "life" in the instance under review. And thus it is to be answered. The death brought on mankind by Adam was not only internal wretchedness, but also the condemnation of the disembodied soul to the under world; the life they were assured of by Christ was not only internal blessedness, but also the deliverance of the soul from its subterranean prison and its reception into heaven in a "body celestial," according to its original destiny had sin not befallen. This interpretation is explicitly put forth by Theodoret in his comments on this same passage, (Rom. v. 15-18.) He says, "There must be a correspondence between the disease and the remedy. Adam's sin subjected him to the power of death and the tyranny of the devil. In the same manner that Adam was compelled to descend into the under world, we all are associates in his fate. Thus, when Christ rose, the whole humankind partook in his vivification."7 Origen also and who, after the apostles themselves, knew their thoughts and their use of language better than he? emphatically declares in exposition of the expression of Paul, "the wages of sin is death" that "the 7 Impatib., dialogue iii. pp. 132, 133, ed. Sirmondi. under world in which souls are detained is called death."8 "As in Adam all die, even so in Christ shall all be made alive." These words cannot be explained, "As in Adam the necessity of physical death came on all, so in Christ that necessity shall be removed," because Christ's mission did not touch physical death, which was still reigning as ever, before Paul's eyes. Neither can the passage signify, "As through Adam wretchedness is the portion of every heart of man, so through Christ blessedness shall be given to every heart," because, while the language itself does not hint that thought, the context demonstrates that the real reference is not to an inward experience, but to an outward event, not to the personal regeneration of the soul, but to a general resurrection of the dead. The time referred to is the second coming of Christ; and the force of the text must be this: As by our bodily likeness to the first man and genetic connection with him through sin we all die like him, that is, leave the body and go into the under world, and remain there, so by our spiritual likeness to the second man and redeeming connection with him through the free grace of God we shall all rise thence like him, revived and restored. Adam was the head of a condemned race, doomed to Hades by the visible occurrence of death in lineal descent from him; Christ is the head of a pardoned race, destined for heaven in consonance with the plain token of his resurrection and ascension. Again, the apostle writes, "In the twinkling of an eye, at the last trump, the dead shall be raised incorruptible, and we (who are then living) shall be changed; for this corruptible must put on incorruption, and this mortal immortality. Then shall be brought to pass the saying that is written, 'Death is swallowed up in victory?" O Death, where is thy sting? O Hades, where is thy victory?'" The writer evidently exults in the thought that, at the second coming of Christ, death shall lose its retributive character and the under world be baffled of its expected prisoners, because the living shall instantly experience the change of bodies fitting them to ascend to heaven with the returning and triumphant Lord. Paul also announces that "Jesus Christ hath abolished death and hath brought life and immortality to light." The word "death" here cannot mean physical dissolution, because Christ did not abolish that. It cannot denote personal sin and unhappiness, because that would not correspond with and sustain the obvious meaning of the contrasted member of the sentence. Its adequate and consistent sense is this. God intended that man should pass from a preliminary existence on earth to an eternal life in heaven; but sin thwarted this glorious design and altered our fate to a banishment into the cheerless under world. But now, by the teachings and resurrection of Christ, we are assured that God of his infinite goodness has determined freely to forgive us and restore our original destination. Our descent and abode below are abolished and our heavenly immortality made clear. "We earnestly desire to be clothed upon with our house which is from heaven, if so be that, being clothed, we shall not be found naked. Not that we desire to be unclothed, but clothed upon, that mortality may be swallowed up of life." 8 Comm. in Epist. ad Rom. lib. vi. cap. 6, sect. 6. Also see Jerome, Comm. in Ecc. iii. 21. Professor Mau, in his able treatise "Von dem Tode dem Solde der Sunden, and der Aufhebung desselben durch die Auferstehung Christi," cogently argues, against Krabbe, that death as the punishment of sin is not bodily dissolution, but wretchedness and condemnation to the under world, (amandatio Orcum.) In Pelt's Theologische Mitarbeiten, 1838, heft ii. ss. 107-108. In these remarkable words the apostle expresses several particulars of what we have already presented as his general doctrine. He states his conviction that, when his "earthly house of this tabernacle" dissolves, there is a "divinely constructed, heavenly, and eternal house" prepared for him. He expresses his desire at the coming of the Lord not to be dead, but still living, and then to be divested of his earthly body and invested with the heavenly body, that thus, being fitted for translation to the incorruptible kingdom of God, he might not be found a naked shadow or ghost in the under world. Ruckert says, in his commentary, and the best critics agree with him, "Paul herein desires to become immortal without passing the gates of death." Language similar to the foregoing in its peculiar phrases is found in the Jewish Cabbala. The Zohar describes the ascent of the soul to heaven clothed with splendor, and afterwards illustrates its meaning in these terms: "As there is given to the soul a garment with which she is clothed in order to establish her in this world, so there is given her a garment of heavenly splendor in order to establish her in that world."9 So in the "Ascension of Isaiah the Prophet" an apocryphal book written by some Jewish Christian as early, without doubt, as the close of the second century the following passages occur. Speaking of what was revealed to him in heaven, the prophet says, "There I saw all the saints, from Adam, without the clothing of the flesh: I viewed them in their heavenly clothing like the angels who stood there in great splendor." Again he says, "All the saints from heaven in their heavenly clothing shall descend with the Lord and dwell in this world, while the saints who have not died shall be clothed like those who come from heaven. Then the general resurrection will take place and they will ascend together to heaven."10 Schoettgen, commenting on this text, (2 Cor. v. 2, ) likewise quotes a large number of examples of like phraseology from Rabbinical writers. The statements thus far made and proofs offered will be amply illustrated and confirmed as we go on to consider the chief component parts of the Pauline scheme of the last things. For, having presented the general outline, it will be useful, in treating so complex and difficult a theme, to analyze it by details. We are met upon the threshold of our inquiry by the essential question, What, according to Paul, was the mission of Christ? What did he accomplish? A clear reply to this question comprises three distinct propositions. First, the apostle plainly represents the resurrection, and not the crucifixion, as the efficacious feature in Christ's work of redemption. When we recollect the almost universal prevalence of the opposite notion among existing sects, it is astonishing how clear it is that Paul generally dwells upon the dying of Christ solely as the necessary preliminary to his rising. "If Christ be not risen, then is our preaching vain, and your faith also is vain: ye are yet in your sins." These words are irreconcilable with that doctrine which connects our "justification" with the atoning death, and not with the typical resurrection, of Christ. "That Christ died for our sins, and that he was buried, and that he rose again the third day." To place a vicarious stress upon the first clause of this text is as arbitrary as it would be to place it upon the second; but naturally emphasize the third clause, 9 Laurence, Ascensio Isaia Vatis, appendix, p. 168. 10 Laurence, Ascensio Isaia atis, cap. 9, v. 7, 9; cap. 4. and all is clear. The inferences and exhortations drawn from the mission of Christ are not usually connected in any essential manner with his painful death, but directly with his glorious resurrection out from among the dead unto the heavenly blessedness. "If we have been planted together in the likeness of his death, we shall be also in the likeness of his resurrection." Sinking into the water, when "buried by baptism into the death of Christ," was, to those initiated into the Christian religion, a symbol of the descent of Christ among the dead; rising out of the water was a symbol of the ascent of Christ into heaven. "If ye then be risen with Christ, seek those things which are above, where Christ sitteth on the right hand of God." When Paul cries, exultingly, "Thanks be to God, who through Christ giveth us the victory over the sting of death and the strength of sin," Jerome says, "We cannot and dare not interpret this victory otherwise than by the resurrection of the Lord."11 Commenting on the text "To this end Christ both died and lived again, that he might reign both over the dead and the living," Theodoret says that Christ, going through all these events, "promised a resurrection to us all." Paul makes no appeal to us to believe in the death of Christ, to believe in the atoning sacrifice of Christ, but he unequivocally affirms, "If thou shalt believe in thine heart that God hath raised him from the dead, thou shalt be saved." Paul conceived that Christ died in order to rise again and convince men that the Father would freely deliver them from the bondage of death in the under world. All this took place on account of sin, was only made requisite by sin, one of whose consequences was the subterranean confinement of the soul, which otherwise, upon deserting its clayey tent, would immediately have been clothed with a spiritual body and have ascended to heaven. That is to say, Christ "was delivered because of our offences and was raised again because of our justification." In Romans viii. 10 the preposition occurs twice in exactly the same construction as in the text just quoted. In the latter case the authors of the common version have rendered it "because of." They should have done so in the other instance, in accordance with the natural force and established usage of the word in this connection. The meaning is, Our offences had been committed, therefore Christ was delivered into Hades; our pardon had been decreed, therefore Christ was raised into heaven. Such as we have now stated is the real material which has been distorted and exaggerated into the prevalent doctrine of the vicarious atonement, with all its dread concomitants.12 The believers of that doctrine suppose themselves obliged to accept it by the language of the epistles. But the view above maintained as that of Paul solves every difficulty and gives an intelligent and consistent meaning to all the phrases usually thought to legitimate the Calvinistic scheme of redemption. While we deny the correctness of the Calvinistic interpretation of those passages in which occur such expressions as "Christ gave himself for us," "died for our sins," we also affirm the inadequacy 11 Comm. in Osee, lib. iii. cap. 13. 12 Die Lehre von Christi Hollenfahrt nach der Heil. Schrift, der altesten Kirche, den Christlichen Symbolen, und nach ihrer unendlichen Wichtigkeit und vielumfassenden Bedeutung dargestellt, von Joh. Ludwig Konig. The author presents in this work an irresistible array of citations and authorities. In an appendix he gives a list of a hundred authors on the theme of Christ's descent into hell. of the explanations of them proposed by Unitarians, and assert that their genuine force is this. Christ died and rose that we might be freed through faith from the great entailed consequence of sin, the bondage of the under world; beholding, through his ascension, our heavenly destination restored. "God made him, who knew no sin, to be sin on our account, that we might become the righteousness of God in him," might through faith in him be assured of salvation. In other words, Christ, who was not exposed to the evils brought on men by sin, did not think his divine estate a thing eagerly to be retained, but descended to the estate of man, underwent the penalties of sin as if he were himself a sinner, and then rose to the right hand of God, by this token to assure men of God's gracious determination to forgive them and reinstate them in their forfeited primal privileges. "If we be reconciled by his death, much more shall we be saved by his life." That is, if Christ's coming from heaven as an ambassador from God to die convinces us of God's pardoning good will towards us, much more does his rising again into heaven, where he now lives, deliver us from the fear of the under world condemnation and assure us of the heavenly salvation. Except in the light and with the aid of the theory we have been urging, a large number of texts like the foregoing cannot, as we think, be interpreted without constructive violence, and even with that violence cannot convey their full point and power. Secondly, in Paul's doctrine of the redeeming work of Christ we recognise something distinct from any subjective effect in animating and purifying the hearts and lives of men. "Christ hath redeemed us from the curse of the law." "In Christ we have redemption through his blood, even the forgiveness of sins." Nothing but the most desperate exegesis can make these and many similar texts signify simply the purging of individual breasts from their offences and guilt. Seeking the genuine meaning of Paul, we are forced to agree with the overwhelming majority of the critics and believers of all Christendom, from the very times of the apostles till now, and declare that these passages refer to an outward deliverance of men by Christ, the removal by him of a common doom resting on the race in consequence of sin. What Paul supposed that doom was, and how he thought it was removed, let us try to see. It is necessary to premise that in Paul's writings the phrase "the righteousness of God" is often used by metonymy to mean God's mode of accounting sinners righteous, and is equivalent to "the Christian method of salvation." "By the deeds of the law no flesh shall be justified; but the righteousness of God without the law is manifested, freely justifying them through the redemption that is in Christ." How evidently in this verse "the righteousness of God" denotes God's method of justifying the guilty by a free pardon proclaimed through Christ! The apostle employs the word "faith" in a kindred technical manner, sometimes meaning by it "promise," sometimes the whole evangelic apparatus used to establish faith or prove the realization of the promise. "What if some did not believe? Shall their unbelief make the faith of God without effect?" Evidently by "faith" is intended "promise" or "purpose." "Is the law against the promises of God? God forbid! But before faith came we were kept under the law, shut up unto the faith which should afterwards be revealed." Here "faith" plainly means the object of faith, the manifested fulfilment of the promises: it means the gospel. Again, "Whereof he hath offered faith to all, in that he hath raised him from the dead." "Hath offered faith" here signifies, unquestionably, as the common version well expresses it, "hath given assurance," or hath exemplified the proof. "Wherefore the law was our schoolmaster to bring us unto Christ, that we might be justified by faith. But after that faith is come, we are no longer under a schoolmaster." In this instance "faith" certainly means Christianity, in contradistinction to Judaism, and "justification by faith" is equivalent to "salvation by the grace of God, shown through the mission of Christ." It is not so much internal and individual in its reference as it is public and general. We believe that no man, sacredly resolved to admit the truth, can study with a purposed reference to this point all the passages in Paul's epistles where the word "faith" occurs, without being convinced that for the most part it is used in an objective sense, in contradistinction to the law, as synonymous with the gospel, the new dispensation of grace. Therefore "justification by faith" does not usually mean salvation through personal belief, either in the merits of the Redeemer or in any thing else, but it means salvation by the plan revealed in the gospel, the free remission of sins by the forbearance of God. In those instances where "faith" is used in a subjective sense for personal belief, it is never described as the effectual cause of salvation, but as the condition of personal assurance of salvation. Grace has outwardly come to all; but only the believers inwardly know it. This Pauline use of terms in technical senses lies broadly on the face of the Epistles to the Romans and the Galatians. New Testament lexicons and commentaries, by the best scholars of every denomination, acknowledge it and illustrate it. Mark now these texts. "And by him all that believe are justified from all things from which ye could not be justified by the law of Moses." "To declare his righteousness, that he might be just and the justifier of him that believeth in Jesus." "What things were gain to me [under Judaism] I counted loss in comparison with Christ, that I may be found in him, not having mine own righteousness, which is of the law, but the righteousness which is of God through faith in Christ." "By the deeds of the law no man can be justified," "but ye are saved through faith." We submit that these passages, and many others in the epistles, find a perfect explanation in the following outline of faith, commenced in the mind of Paul while he was a Pharisee, completed when he was a Christian. The righteousness of the law, the method of salvation by keeping the law, is impossible. The sin of the first man broke that whole plan and doomed all souls helplessly to the under world. If a man now should keep every tittle of the law without reservation, it would not release him from the bondage below and secure for him an ascent to heaven. But what the law could not do is done for us in Christ. Sin having destroyed the righteousness of the law, that is, the fatal penalty of Hades having rendered salvation by the law impossible, the righteousness of God, that is, a new method of salvation, has been brought to light. God has sent his Son to die, descend into the under world, rise again, and return to heaven, to proclaim to men the glorious tidings of justification by faith, that is, a dispensation of grace freely annulling the great consequence of sin and inviting them to heaven in the Redeemer's footsteps. Paul unequivocally declares that Christ broke up the bondage of the under world by his irresistible entrance and exit, in the following text: "When he had descended first into the lower parts of the earth, he ascended up on high, leading a multitude of captives." What can be plainer than that? The same thought is also contained in another passage, a passage which was the source of those tremendous pictures so frequent in the cathedrals of the Middle Age, Christus spoliat Infernum: "God hath forgiven you all trespasses, blotting out the handwriting of ordinances that was against us, and took it away, nailing it to Christ's cross; and, having spoiled principalities and powers, he made a show of them, openly triumphing over them in Christ." The entire theory which underlies the exposition we have just set forth is stated in so many words in the passage we next cite. For the word "righteousness" in order to make the meaning more perspicuous we simply substitute "method of salvation," which is unquestionably its signification here. "They [the Jews] being ignorant of God's method of salvation, and going about to establish their own method, have not submitted themselves unto God's. For Christ is the end of the law for a way of salvation to every one that believeth. For Moses describeth the method of salvation which is of the law, that the man who doeth these things shall be blessed in them. But the method of salvation which is of faith ["faith" here means the gospel, Christianity] speaketh on this wise: Say not in thy heart, 'Who shall ascend into heaven?' that is, to bring Christ down; or, 'Who shall descend into the under world?' that is, to bring up Christ again from among the dead." This has been done already, once for all. "And if thou shalt believe in thine heart that God hath raised him from the dead, thou shalt be saved." The apostle avows that his "heart's desire and his prayer unto God for Israel is, that they may be saved;" and he asserts that they cannot be saved by the law of Moses, but only by the gospel of Christ; that is, "faith;" that is, "the dispensation of grace." Paul's conception of the foremost feature in Christ's mission is precisely this. He came to deliver men from the stern law of Judaism, which could not wipe away their transgressions nor save them from Hades, and to establish them in the free grace of Christianity, which justifies them from all past sin and seals them for heaven. What could be a more explicit declaration of this than the following? "When the fulness of the time was come, God sent forth his Son to redeem them that were under the law." Herein is the explanation of that perilous combat which Paul waged so many years, and in which he proved victorious, the great battle between the Gentile Christians and the Judaizing Christians; a subject of altogether singular importance, without a minute acquaintance with which a large part of the New Testament cannot be understood. "Christ gave himself for our sins, that he might deliver us from this present evil world, according to the will of God." Now, the Hebrew terms corresponding with the English terms "present world" and "future world" were used by the Jews to denote the Mosaic and the Messianic dispensations. We believe with Schoettgen and other good authorities that such is the sense of the phrase "present world" in the instance before us. Not only is that interpretation sustained by the usus loquendi, it is also the only defensible meaning; for the effect of the establishment of the gospel was not to deliver men from the present world, though it did deliver them from the hopeless bondage of Judaism, wherein salvation was by Christians considered impossible. And that is precisely the argument of the Epistle to the Galatians, in which the text occurs. In a succeeding chapter, while speaking expressly of the external forms of the Jewish law, Paul says, "By the cross of Christ the world is crucified unto me, and I unto the world;" and he instantly adds, by way of explanation, "for in Christ Jesus neither circumcision availeth any thing, nor uncircumcision." Undeniably, "world" here means "Judaism;" as Rosenmuller phrases it, Judaica vanitas. In another epistle, while expostulating with his readers on the folly of subjecting themselves to observances "in meat and drink, and new moons and sabbaths," after "the handwriting of ordinances that was against them had been blotted out, taken away, nailed to the cross," Paul remonstrates with them in these words: "Wherefore, if ye be dead with Christ from the rudiments of the world, why, as though living in the world, are ye subject to ordinances?" We should suppose that no intelligent person could question that this means, "Now that by the gospel of Christ ye are emancipated from the technical requisitions of Judaism, why are ye subject to its ordinances, as if ye were still living under its rule?" as many of the best commentators agree in saying, "tanquam viventes adhuc in Judaismo." From these collective passages, and from others like them, we draw the conclusion, in Paul's own words, that, "When we were children, we were in bondage under the rudiments of the world," "the weak and beggarly elements" of Judaism; but, now that "the fulness of the time has come, and God has sent forth his Son to redeem us," we are called "to receive the adoption of sons" and "become heirs of God," inheritors of a heavenly destiny. We think that the intelligent and candid reader, who is familiar with Paul's epistles, will recognise the following features in his belief and teaching. First, all mankind alike were under sin and condemnation. "Jews and Gentiles all are under sin." "All the world is subject to the sentence of God." And we maintain that that condemning sentence consisted, partly at least, in the banishment of their disembodied souls to Hades. Secondly, "a promise was given to Abraham," before the introduction of the Mosaic dispensation, "that in his seed [that is, in Christ] all the nations of the earth should be blessed." When Paul speaks, as he does in numerous instances, of "the hope of eternal life which God, who cannot lie, promised before the world began," "the promise given before the foundation of the world," "the promise made of God unto the fathers, that God would raise the dead," the date referred to is not when the decree was formed in the eternal counsels of God, previous to the origin of the earth, but when the covenant was made with Abraham, before the establishment of the Jewish dispensation. The thing promised plainly was, according to Paul's idea, a redemption from Hades and an ascension to heaven; for this is fully implied in his "expectation of the resurrection of the dead" from the intermediate state, and their being "clothed in celestial bodies." This promise made unto Abraham by God, to be fulfilled by Christ, "the law, which was four hundred and thirty years afterwards, could not disannul." That is, as any one may see by the context, the law could not secure the inheritance of the thing promised, but was only a temporary arrangement on account of transgressions, "until the seed should come to whom the promise was made." In other words, there was "no mode of salvation by the law;" "the law could not give life;" for if it could it would have "superseded the promise," made it without effect, whereas the inviolable promise of God was, that in the one seed of Abraham that is, in Christ alone should salvation be preached to all that believed. "For if they which are of the law be heirs, faith is made useless, and the promise is made useless." In the mean time, until Christ be come, all are shut up under sin. Thirdly, the special "advantage of the Jews was, that unto them this promise of God was committed," as the chosen covenant people. The Gentiles, groaning under the universal sentence of sin, were ignorant of the sure promise of a common salvation yet to be brought. While the Jews indulged in glowing and exclusive expectations of the Messiah who was gloriously to redeem them, the Gentiles were "aliens from the commonwealth of Israel, strangers from the covenants of promise, having no hope and without God in the world." Fourthly, in the fulness of time long after "the Scripture, foreseeing that God would justify the heathen, had preached the gospel beforehand unto Abraham, saying, In thy seed shall all nations be blessed" "Christ redeemed us from the curse of the law, being made a curse for us, that the blessing promised to Abraham might come upon the Gentiles." It was the precise mission of Christ to realize and exemplify and publish to the whole world the fulfilment of that promise. The promise itself was, that men should be released from the under world through the imputation of righteousness by grace that is, through free forgiveness and rise to heaven as accredited sons and heirs of God. This aim and purpose of Christ's coming were effected in his resurrection. But how did the Gentiles enter into belief and participation of the glad tidings? Thus, according to Paul: The death, descent, resurrection, and ascent of Jesus, and his residence in heaven in a spiritual form, divested him of his nationality.13 He was "then to be known no more after the flesh." He was no longer an earthly Jew, addressing Jews, but a heavenly spirit and son of God, a glorified likeness of the spirits of all who were adopted as sons of God, appealing to them all as joint heirs with himself of heaven. He has risen into universality, and is accessible to the soul of every one that believeth. "In him there is neither Greek nor Jew, circumcision nor uncircumcision, barbarian, Scythian, bond nor free." The experience resulting in a heart raised into fellowship with him in heaven is the inward seal assuring us that our faith is not vain. "Ye Gentiles, who formerly were afar off, are now made nigh by the blood of Christ; for he hath broken down the middle wall of partition between Jews and Gentiles, having abolished in his flesh the enmity, namely, the law of commandments in ordinances, in order to make in himself of twain one new man. For through him we both have access by one spirit unto the Father. Now, therefore, ye are no more strangers and foreigners, but fellow citizens with the saints and of the household of God." Circumcision was of the flesh; and the vain hope of salvation by it was confined to the Jews. Grace was of the spirit; and the revealed assurance of salvation by it was given to the Gentiles too, when Christ died to the nationalizing flesh, rose in the universalizing spirit, and from heaven impartially exhibited himself, through the preaching of the gospel, to the appropriating faith of all. The foregoing positions might be further substantiated by applying the general theory they contain to the explication of scores of individual texts which it fits and unfolds, and which, we think, cannot upon any other view be interpreted without forced constructions unwarranted by a thorough acquaintance with the mind of Paul and with the mind of his age. But we must be content with one or two such applications as specimens. The word "mystery" often occurs in the letters of Paul. Its current meaning in his time was "something concealed," something into which one must be initiated in order to understand it. 13 Martineau, Liverpool Controversy: Inconsistency of the Scheme of Vicarious Redemption. The Eleusinian Mysteries, for instance, were not necessarily any thing intrinsically dark and hard to be comprehended, but things hidden from public gaze and only to be known by initiation into them. Paul uses the term in a similar way to denote the peculiar scheme of grace, which "had been kept secret from the beginning of the world," "hidden from ages and generations, but now made manifest." No one denies that Paul means by "this mystery" the very heart and essence of the gospel, precisely that which distinguishes it from the law and makes it a universal method of salvation, a wondrous system of grace. So much is irresistibly evident from the way and the connection in which he uses the term. He writes thus in explanation of the great mystery as it was dramatically revealed through Christ: "Who was manifested in the flesh, [i. e. seen in the body during his life on earth,] justified in the spirit, [i. e. freed after death from the necessity of imprisonment in Hades,] seen of angels, [i. e. in their fellowship after his resurrection,] preached unto the Gentiles, [i. e. after the gift of tongues on Pentecost day,] believed on in the world, [i. e. his gospel widely accepted through the labors of his disciples,] received up into glory, [i. e. taken into heaven to the presence of God.]" "The revelation of the mystery" means, then, the visible enactment and exhibition, through the resurrection of Christ, of God's free forgiveness of men, redeeming them from the Hadean gloom to the heavenly glory. The word "glory" in the New Testament confessedly often signifies the illumination of heaven, the defined abode of God and his angels. Robinson collects, in his Lexicon, numerous examples wherein he says it means "that state which is the portion of those who dwell with God in heaven." Now, Paul repeatedly speaks of the calling of believers to glory as one of the chief blessings and new prerogatives of the gospel. "Being justified by faith, we rejoice in hope of the glory of God." "Walk worthy of God, who hath called you unto his glory." "We speak wisdom to the initiates, the hidden wisdom of God in a mystery, which before the world [the Jewish dispensation] God ordained for our glory." "Flesh and blood cannot inherit the kingdom of God: behold, I show you a mystery: we shall all be changed in a moment, and put on immortality." In the first chapter of the letter to the Colossians, Paul speaks of "the hope which is laid up for you in heaven, whereof ye have heard in the gospel;" also of "the inheritance of the saints in light:" then he says, "God would now make known among the Gentiles the mystery, which is, Christ among you, the hope of glory." In the light of what has gone before, how significant and how clear is this declaration! "All have sinned, and failed to attain unto the glory of God; but now, through the faith of Jesus Christ, [through the dispensation brought to light by Christ,] the righteousness of God [God's method of salvation] is unto all that believe." That is, by the law all were shut up in Hades, but by grace they are now ransomed and to be received to heaven. The same thought or scheme is contained in that remarkable passage in the Epistle to the Galatians where Paul says the free Isaac and the bond woman Hagar were an allegory, teaching that there were two covenants, one by Abraham, the other by Moses. The Mosaic covenant of the law "answers to the Jerusalem which is on earth, and is in bondage with her children," and belongs only to the Jews. The Abrahamic covenant of promise answers to "the Jerusalem which is above, and is free, and is the mother of us all." In the former, we were "begotten unto bondage." In the latter, "Christ hath made us free." We will notice but one more text in passing: it is, of all the proof texts of the doctrine of a substitutional expiation, the one which has ever been regarded as the very Achilles. And yet it can be made to support that doctrine only by the aid of arbitrary assumptions and mistranslations, while by its very terms it perfectly coincides with nay, expressly declares the theory which we have been advocating as the genuine interpretation of Paul. The usual commentators, in their treatment of this passage, have exhibited a long continued series of perversions and sophisms, affording a strong example of unconscious prejudice. The correct Greek reading of the text is justly rendered thus: "Whom God set forth, a mercy seat through the faith in his blood, to exhibit his righteousness through the remission of former sins by the forbearance of God." For rendering [non-ASCII characters] "mercy seat," the usus loquendi and the internal harmony of meaning are in our favor, and also the weight of many orthodox authorities, such as Theodoret, Origen, Theophylact, OEcumenius, Erasmus, Luther, and from Pelagius to Bushnell. Still, we are willing to admit the rendering of it by "sin offering." That makes no important difference in the result. Christ was a sin offering, in the conception of Paul, in this sense: that when he was not himself subject to death, which was the penalty of sin, he yet died in order to show God's purpose of removing that penalty of sin through his resurrection. For rendering [non-ASCII characters] "through," no defence is needed: the only wonder is, how it ever could have been here translated "for." Now, let two or three facts be noticed. First, the New Testament phrase "the faith of Christ," "the faith of Jesus," is very unfairly and unwarrantably made to mean an internal affection towards Christ, a belief of men in him. Its genuine meaning is the same as "the gospel of Christ," or the religion of Christ, the system of grace which he brought.14 Who can doubt that such is the meaning of the word in these instances? "Contend for the faith once delivered to the saints;" "Greet them that love us in the faith;" "Have not the faith of our Lord Jesus Christ with respect of persons." So, in the text now under our notice, "the faith which is in his blood" means the dispensation of pardon and justification, the system of faith, which was confirmed and exemplified to us in his death and resurrection. Secondly, "the righteousness of God," which is here said to be "pointed out" by Christ's death, denotes simply, in Professor Stuart's words, "God's pardoning mercy," or "acquittal," or "gratuitous justification," "in which sense," he says truly, "it is almost always used in Paul's epistles."15 It signifies neither more nor less than God's method of salvation by freely forgiving sins and treating the sinner as if he were righteous, the method of salvation now carried into effect and revealed in the gospel brought by Christ, and dramatically enacted in his passion and ascension. Furthermore, we ask attention to the fact that the ordinary interpreter, hard pressed by his unscriptural creed, interpolates a disjunctive conjunction in the opposing teeth of Paul's plain statement. Paul says, as the common version has it, God is "just, and [i. e. even] the justifier." The creed bound commentators read it, 14 Robinson has gathered a great number of instances in his Lexicon, under the word "Faith," wherein it can only mean, as he says, "the system of Christian doctrines, the gospel." 15 Stuart's Romans i. 17, iii. 25, 26, &c. "just and yet the justifier." We will now present the true meaning of the whole passage, in our view of it, according to Paul's own use of language. To establish a conviction of the correctness of the exposition, we only ask the ingenuous reader carefully to study the clauses of the Greek text and recollect the foregoing data. "God has set Christ forth, to be to us a sure sign that we have been forgiven and redeemed through the faith that was proved by his triumphant return from death, the dispensation of grace inaugurated by him. Herein God has exhibited his method of saving sinners, which is by the free remission of their sins through his kindness. Thus God is proved to be disposed to save, and to be saving, by the system of grace shown through Jesus, him that believeth." In consequence of sin, men were under sentence of condemnation to the under world. In the fulness of time God fulfilled his ancient promise to Abraham. He freely justified men, that is, forgave them, redeemed them from their doom, and would soon open the sky for their abode with him. This scheme of redemption was carried out by Christ. That is to say, God proclaimed it to men, and asked their belief in it, by "setting forth Christ" to die, descend among the dead, rise thence, and ascend into heaven, as an exemplifying certification of the truth of the glad tidings. Thirdly, Paul teaches that one aim of Christ's mission was to purify, animate, and exalt the moral characters of men, and rectify their conduct, to produce a subjective sanctification in them, and so prepare them for judgment and fit them for heaven. The establishment of this proposition will conclude the present part of our subject. He writes, "Our Saviour, Jesus Christ, gave himself for us, that he might redeem us from all iniquity and purify unto himself a peculiar people zealous of good works." "Let every one that nameth the name of Christ depart from iniquity." In various ways he often represents the fact that believers have been saved by grace through Christ as the very reason, the intensified motive, why they should scrupulously keep every tittle of the moral law and abstain even from the appearance of evil, walking worthy of their high vocation. "The grace of God that bringeth salvation to all men hath appeared, teaching us that, denying all ungodliness and worldly lusts, we should live soberly, righteously, and godly in this present world." Bad men, "that obey not the gospel of Christ," such characters as "thieves, extortioners, drunkards, adulterers, shall not inherit the kingdom of God." He proclaims, in unmistakable terms, "God will render to every man according to his deeds, wrath and tribulation to the evil doer, honor and peace to the well doer, whether Jew or Gentile." The conclusion to be drawn from these and other like declarations is unavoidable. It is that "every one, Jew and Gentile, shall stand before the judgment seat of Christ and receive according to the deeds done in the body; for there is no respect of persons." And one part of Christ's mission was to exert a hallowing moral influence on men, to make them righteous, that they might pass the bar with acquittal. But the reader who recollects the class of texts adduced a little while since will remember that an opposite conclusion was as unequivocally drawn from them. Then Paul said, "By faith ye are justified, without the deeds of the law." Now he says, "For not the hearers of the law are just before God, but the doers of the law shall be justified in the day when God shall judge the secrets of men by Jesus Christ." Is there a contradiction, then, in Paul? Only in appearance. Let us distinguish and explain. In the two quotations above, the apostle is referring to two different things. First, he would say, By the faith of Christ, the free grace of God declared in the gospel of Christ, ye are justified, gratuitously delivered from that necessity of imprisonment in Hades which is the penalty of sin doomed upon the whole race from Adam, and from which no amount of personal virtue could avail to save men. Secondly, when he exclaims, "Know ye not that the unrighteous shall not inherit the kingdom of God?" his thought is of a spiritual qualification of character, indispensable for positive admission among the blest in heaven. That is to say, the impartial penalty of primeval sin consigned all men to Hades. They could not by their own efforts escape thence and win heaven. That fated inability God has removed, and through Christ revealed its removal; but, that one should actually obtain the offered and possible prize of heaven, personal purity, faith, obedience, holiness, are necessary. In Paul's conception of the scheme of Christian salvation, then, there were two distinct parts: one, what God had done for all; the other, what each man was to do for himself. And the two great classes of seemingly hostile texts filling his epistles, which have puzzled so many readers, become clear and harmonious when we perceive and remember that by "righteousness" and its kindred terms he sometimes means the external and fulfilled method of redeeming men from the transmitted necessity of bondage in the under world, and sometimes means the internal and contingent qualifications for actually realizing that redemption. In the former instance he refers to the objective mode of salvation and the revelation of it in Christ. In the latter, he refers to the subjective fitness for that salvation and the certitude of it in the believer. So, too, the words "death" and "life," in Paul's writings, are generally charged, by a constructio proegnans, with a double sense, one spiritual, individual, contingent, the other mechanical, common, absolute. Death, in its full Pauline force, includes inward guilt, condemnation, and misery, and outward descent into the under world. Life, in its full Pauline force, includes inward rectitude, peace, and joy, and outward ascent into the upper world. Holiness is necessary, "for without it no one can see the Lord;" yet by itself it can secure only inward life: it is ineffectual to win heaven. Grace by itself merely exempts from the fatality of the condemnation to Hades: it offers eternal life in heaven only upon condition of "patient continuance in well doing" by "faith, obedience to the truth, and sanctification of the spirit." But God's free grace and man's diligent fidelity, combined, give the full fruition of blessedness in the heart and of glory and immortality in the sky. Such, as we have set forth in the foregoing three divisions, was Paul's view of the mission of Christ and of the method of salvation. It has been for centuries perverted and mutilated. The toil now is by unprejudiced inspection to bring it forward in its genuine completeness, as it stood in Paul's own mind and in the minds of his contemporaries. The essential view, epitomized in a single sentence, is this. The independent grace of God has interfered, first, to save man from Hades, and secondly, to enable him, by the co operation of his own virtue, to get to heaven. Here are two separate means conjoined to effect the end, salvation. Now, compare, in the light of this statement, the three great theological theories of Christendom. The UNITARIAN, overlooking the objective justification, or offered redemption from the death realm to the sky home, which whether it be a truth or an error is surely in the epistles, makes the subjective sanctification all in all. The CALVINIST, in his theory, comparatively scorns the subjective sanctification, which Paul insists on as a necessity for entering the kingdom of God, and, having perverted the objective justification from its real historic meaning, exaggerates it into the all in all. The ROMAN CATHOLIC holds that Christ simply removed the load of original sin and its entailed doom, and left each person to stand or fall by his own merits, in the helping communion of the Church. He also maintains that a part of Christ's office was to exert an influence for the moral improvement and consecration of human character. His error, as an interpreter of Paul's thought, is, that he, like the Calvinist, attributes to Christ's death a vicarious efficacy by suffering the pangs of mankind's guilt to buy their ransom from the inexorable justice of God; whereas the apostle really represents Christ's redeeming mission as consisting simply in a dramatic exemplification of the Father's spontaneous love and purpose to pardon past offences, unbolt the gates of Hades, and receive the worthy to heaven. Moreover, while Paul describes the heavenly salvation as an undeserved gift from the grace of God, the Catholic often seems to make it a prize to be earned, under the Christian dispensation, by good works which may fairly challenge that reward. However, we have little doubt that this apparent opposition is rather in the practical mode of exhortation than in any interior difference of dogma; for Paul himself makes personal salvation hinge on personal conditions, the province of grace being seen in the new extension to man of the opportunity and invitation to secure his own acceptance. And so the Roman Catholic exposition of Paul's doctrine is much more nearly correct than any other interpretation now prevalent. We should expect, a priori, that it would be, since that Church, containing two thirds of Christendom, is the most intimately connected, by its scholars, members, and traditions, with the apostolic age. A prominent feature in the belief of Paul, and one deserving distinct notice as necessarily involving a considerable part of the theory which we have attributed to him, is the supposition that Christ was the first person, clothed with humanity and experiencing death, admitted into heaven. Of all the hosts who had lived and died, every soul had gone down into the dusky under world. There they all were held in durance, waiting for the Great Deliverer. In the splendors of the realm over the sky, God and his angels dwelt alone. That we do not err in ascribing this belief to Paul we might summon the whole body of the Fathers to testify in almost unbroken phalanx, from Polycarp to St. Bernard. The Roman, Greek, and English Churches still maintain the same dogma. But the apostle's own plain words will be sufficient for our purpose. "That Christ should suffer, and that he should be the first that should rise from among the dead." "Now is Christ risen from among the dead and become the first fruits of them that slept." "He is the beginning, the first born from among the dead, that among all he might have the pre eminence." "God raised Christ from among the dead, and set him at his own right hand16 in the heavenly places, far above every principality, and power, and might, and dominion." The last words refer to different orders of spirits, supposed 16 Griesbach argues at length, and shows unanswerably, that this passage cannot bear a moral interpretation, but necessarily has a physical and local sense. Griesbachii Opuscula Academica, ed. Gabler, vol. ii. pp. 145-149. by the Jews to people the aerial region below the heaven of God. "God hath" (already in our anticipating faith) "raised us up together with Christ and made us sit in heavenly places with him." These testimonies are enough to show that Paul believed Jesus to have been raised up to the abode of God, the first man ever exalted thither, and that this was done as a pledge and illustration of the same exaltation awaiting those who believe. "If we be dead with Christ, we believe we shall also live with him." And the apostle teaches that we are not only connected with Christ's resurrection by the outward order and sequence of events, but also by an inward gift of the spirit. He says that to every obedient believer is given an experimental "knowledge of the power of the resurrection of Christ," which is the seal of God within him, the pledge of his own celestial destination. "After that ye believed, ye were sealed with that holy spirit of promise which is the earnest of our inheritance until the redemption of the purchased possession." The office of this gift of the spirit is to awaken in the believing Christian a vivid realization of the things in store for him, and a perfect conviction that he shall yet possess them in the unclouded presence of God, beyond the canopy of azure and the stars. "Eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, nor the heart of man conceived, the things which God hath prepared for them that love him. But he hath revealed them unto us; for we have received his spirit, that we might know them." "The spirit beareth witness with our spirit that we are children and heirs of God, even joint heirs with Christ, that we may be glorified [i. e. advanced into heaven] with him." We will leave this topic with a brief paraphrase of the celebrated passage in the eighth chapter of the Epistle to the Romans. "Not only do the generality of mankind groan in pain in this decaying state, under the bondage of perishable elements, travailing for emancipation from the flesh into the liberty of the heavenly glory appointed for the sons and heirs of God, but even we, who have the first fruits of the spirit, [i. e. the assurance springing from the resurrection of Christ,] we too wait, painfully longing for the adoption, that is, our redemption from the body." By longing for the adoption, or filiation, is meant impatient desire to be received into heaven as children to the enjoyment of the privileges of their Father's house. "God predetermined that those called should be conformed to the image of his Son, [i. e. should pass through the same course with Christ and reach the heavenly goal,] that he might be the first born among many brethren." To the securing of this end, "whom he called, them he also justified, [i. e. ransomed from Hades;17] and whom he justified, them he also glorified," (i. e. advanced to the glory of heaven.) It is evident that Paul looked for the speedy second coming of the Lord in the clouds of heaven, with angels and power and glory. He expected that at that time all enemies would be overthrown and punished, the dead would be raised, the living would be changed, and all that were Christ's would be translated to heaven.18 "The Lord Jesus shall be revealed from 17 That "justify" often means, in Paul's usage, to absolve from Hades, we have concluded from a direct study of his doctrines and language. We find that Bretschneider gives it the same definition in his Lexicon of the New Testament. See [non ASCII characters] 18 "Every one shall rise in his own division" of the great army of the dead, "Christ, the first fruits; afterwards, they that are Christ's, at his coming." heaven, with his mighty angels, in flaming fire, taking vengeance on them that know not God and obey not the gospel of Christ." "We shall not all sleep, but we shall all be changed, in a moment, at the last trump." "We who are alive and remain until the coming of the Lord shall not anticipate those that are asleep. For the Lord himself shall descend from heaven with a shout, with the voice of the archangel, and with the trump of God;19 and the dead in Christ shall rise first. Then we who are alive and remain shall be caught up with them in the clouds, to meet the Lord in the air; and so we shall always be with the Lord. Brethren, you need not that I should specify the time to you; for yourselves are perfectly aware that the day of the Lord so cometh as a thief in the night." "The time is short." "I pray God your whole spirit, soul, and body be preserved blameless unto the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ." "At his appearing he shall judge the living and the dead." "The Lord is at hand." The author of these sentences undeniably looked for the great advent soon. Than Paul, indeed, no one more earnestly believed (or did more to strengthen in others that belief) in that speedy return of Christ, the anticipation of which thrilled all early Christendom with hope and dread, and kept the disciples day and night on the stretch and start of expectation to hear the awful blast of the judgment trump and to see the glorious vision of the Son of God descending amidst a convoy of angels. What sublime emotions must have rushed through the apostle's soul when he thought that he, as a survivor of death's reign on earth, might behold the resurrection without himself entering the grave! Upon a time when he should be perchance at home, or at Damascus, or, it might be, at Jerusalem, the sun would become as blood, the moon as sackcloth of hair, the last trump would swell the sky, and, "Lo! the nations of the dead, Which do outnumber all earth's races, rise, And high in sumless myriads overhead Sweep past him in a cloud, as 'twere the skirts Of the Eternal passing by." The resurrection which Paul thought would attend the second coming of Christ was the rising of the summoned spirits of the deceased from their rest in the under world. Most certainly it was not the restoration of their decomposed bodies from their graves, although that incredible surmise has been generally entertained. He says, while answering the question, How are the dead raised up, and with what body do they come? "That which thou sowest, thou sowest not that body which shall be, but naked grain: God giveth it a body as it hath pleased him." The comparison is, that so the naked soul is sown in the under world, and God, when he raiseth it, giveth it a fitting body. He does not hesitate to call the man "a fool" who expects the restoration of the same body that was buried. His whole argument is explicitly against that idea. "There are bodies celestial, as well as bodies terrestrial: the first man was 19 Rabbi Akiba says, in the Talmud, "God shall take and blow a trumpet a thousand godlike yards in length, whose echo shall sound from end to end of the world. At the first blast the earth shall tremble. At the second, the dust shall part. At the third, the bones shall come together. At the fourth, the members shall grow warm. At the fifth, they shall be crowned with the head. At the sixth, the soul shall re enter the body. And at the seventh, they shall stand erect." Corrodi, Geschichte des Chiliasmus, band i. s. 355. of the earth, earthy; the second man was the Lord from heaven; and as we have borne the image of the earthy, we shall also bear the image of the heavenly; for flesh and blood cannot inherit the kingdom of God." In view of these declarations, it is astonishing that any one can suppose that Paul believed in the resurrection of these present bodies and in their transference into heaven. "In this tabernacle we groan, being burdened," and, "Who shall deliver me from this body of death?" he cries. If ever there was a man whose goading experience, keen intellectual energies, and moral sensibilities, made him weary of this slow, gross body, and passionately to long for a more corresponding, swift, and pure investiture, it was Paul. And in his theory of "the glorious body of Christ, according to which our vile body shall be changed," he relieved his impatience and fed his desire. What his conception of that body was, definitely, we cannot tell; but doubtless it was the idea of a vehicle adapted to his mounting and ardent soul, and in many particulars very unlike this present groaning load of clay. The epistles of Paul contain no clear implication of the notion of a millennium, a thousand years' reign of Christ with his saints on the earth after his second advent. On the contrary, in many places, particularly in the fourth chapter of the First Epistle to the Thessalonians, (supposing that letter to be his,) he says that the Lord and they that are his will directly pass into heaven after the consummation of his descent from heaven and their resurrection from the dead. But the declaration "He must reign till he hath put all enemies under his feet," taken with its context, is thought, by Bertholdt, Billroth, De Wette, and others, to imply that Christ would establish a millennial kingdom on earth, and reign in it engaged in vanquishing all hostile forces. Against this exegesis we have to say, first, that, so far as that goes, the vast preponderance of critical authorities is opposed to it. Secondly, if this conquest were to be secured on earth, there is nothing to show that it need occupy much time: one hour might answer for it as well as a thousand years. There is nothing here to show that Paul means just what the Rabbins taught. Thirdly, even if Paul supposed a considerable period must elapse before "all enemies" would be subdued, during which period Christ must reign, it does not follow that he believed that reign would be on earth: it might be in heaven. The "enemies" referred to are, in part at least, the wicked spirits occupying the regions of the upper air; for he specifies these "principalities, authorities, and powers."20 And the author of the Epistle to the Hebrews represents God as saying to Jesus, "Sit thou on my right hand, until I make thine enemies thy footstool." Fourthly, it seems certain that, if in the apostle's thought a thousand years were interpolated between Christ's second coming and the delivering of his mediatorial sceptre to God, he would have said so, at least somewhere in his writings. He would naturally have dwelt upon it a little, as the Chiliasts did so much. Instead of that, he repeatedly contradicts it. Upon the whole, then, with Ruckert, we cannot 20 The apocryphal "Ascension of Isaiah," already spoken of, gives a detailed description of the upper air as occupied by Satan and his angels, among whom fighting and evil deeds rage; but Christ in his ascent conquers and spoils them all, and shows himself a victor ever brightening as he rises successively through the whole seven heavens to the feet of God. Ascensio Vatis Isaia, cap. vi x. see any reason for not supposing that, according to Paul, "the end" was immediately to succeed "the coming," as [non-ASCII characters] would properly indicate. The doctrine of a long earthly reign of Christ is not deduced from this passage, by candid interpretation, because it must be there, but foisted into it, by Rabbinical information, because it may be there. Paul distinctly teaches that the believers who died before the second coming of the Savior would remain in the under world until that event, when they and the transformed living should ascend "together with the Lord." All the relevant expressions in his epistles, save two, are obviously in harmony with this conception of a temporary subterranean sojourn, waiting for the appearance of Jesus from heaven to usher in the resurrection. But in the fifth chapter of the Second Epistle to the Corinthians he writes, "Abiding in the body we are absent from the Lord." It is usually inferred, from these words and those which follow them, that the apostle expected whenever he died to be instantly with Christ. Certainly they do mean pretty nearly that; but they mean it in connection with the second advent and the accompanying circumstances and events; for Paul believed that many of the disciples possibly himself would live until Christ's coming. All through these two chapters (the fourth and fifth) it is obvious, from the marked use of the terms "we" and "you," and from other considerations, that "we" here refers solely to the writer, the individual Paul. It is the plural of accommodation used by common custom and consent. In the form of a slight paraphrase we may unfold the genuine meaning of the passage in hand. "In this body I am afflicted: not that I would merely be released from it, for then I should be a naked spirit. But I earnestly desire, unclothing myself of this earthly body, at the same time to clothe myself with my heavenly body, that I may lose all my mortal part and its woes in the full experience of heaven's eternal life. God has determined that this result shall come to me sooner or later, and has given me a pledge of it in the witnessing spirit. But it cannot happen so long as I tarry in the flesh, the Lord delaying his appearance. Having the infallible earnest of the spirit, I do not dread the change, but desire to hasten it. Confident of acceptance in that day at the judgment seat of Christ, before which we must all then stand, I long for the crisis when, divested of this body and invested with the immortal form wrought for me by God, I shall be with the Lord. Still, knowing the terror which shall environ the Lord at his coming to judgment, I plead with men to be prepared." Whoever carefully examines the whole connected passage, from iv. 6 to v. 16, will see, we think, that the above paraphrase truly exposes its meaning. The other text alluded to as an apparent exception to the doctrine of a residence in the lower land of ghosts intervening between death and the ascension, occurs in the Epistle to the Philippians: "I am in a strait betwixt two, having a desire to depart and to be with Christ, which is far better; but that I should abide in the flesh is more needful for you." There are three possible ways of regarding this passage. First, we may suppose that Paul, seeing the advent of the Lord postponed longer and longer, changed his idea of the intermediate state of deceased Christians, and thought they would spend that period of waiting in heaven, not in Hades. Neander advocates this view. But there is little to sustain it, and it is loaded with fatal difficulties. A change of faith so important and so bright in its view as this must have seemed under the circumstances would have been clearly and fully stated. Attention would have been earnestly invited to so great a favor and comfort; exultation and gratitude would have been expressed over so unheard of a boon. Moreover, what had occurred to effect the alleged new belief? The unexpected delay of Christ's coming might make the apostle wish that his departed friends were tarrying above the sky instead of beneath the sepulchre; but it could furnish no ground to warrant a sudden faith in that wish as a fulfilled fact. Besides, the truth is that Paul never ceased, even to the last, to expect the speedy arrival of the Lord and to regard the interval as a comparative trifle. In this very epistle he says, "The Lord is at hand: be careful for nothing." Secondly, we may imagine that he expected himself, as a divinely chosen and specially favored servant, to go to Christ in heaven as soon as he died, if that should happen before the Lord's appearance, while the great multitude of believers would abide in the under world until the general resurrection. The death he was in peril of and is referring to was that of martyrdom for the gospel at the hands of Nero. And many of the Fathers maintained that in the case of every worthy Christian martyr there was an exception to the general doom, and that he was permitted to enter heaven at once. Still, to argue such a thought in the text before us requires an hypothesis far fetched and unsupported by a single clear declaration of the apostle himself. Thirdly, we may assume and it seems to us by far the least encumbered and the most plausible theory that attempts to meet the case that Paul believed there would be vouchsafed to the faithful Christian during his transient abode in the under world a more intimate and blessed spiritual fellowship with his Master than he could experience while in the flesh. "For I am persuaded that neither death [separation from the body] nor depth [the under world] shall be able to separate us from God's love, which he has manifested through Christ." He may refer, therefore, by his hopes of being straightway with Christ on leaving the body, to a spiritual communion with him in the disembodied state below, and not to his physical presence in the supernal realm, the latter not being attainable previous to the resurrection. Indeed, a little farther on in this same epistle, he plainly shows that he did not anticipate being received to heaven until after the second coming of Christ. He says, "We look for the Savior from heaven, who shall change our vile body and fashion it like unto his own glorious body." This change is the preliminary preparation to ascent to heaven, which change he repeatedly represents as indispensable. What Paul believed would be the course and fate of things on earth after the final consummation of Christ's mission is a matter of inference from his brief and partial hints. The most probable and consistent view which can be constructed from those hints is this. He thought all mankind would become reconciled and obedient to God, and that death, losing its punitive character, would become what it was originally intended to be, the mere change of the earthly for a heavenly body preparatory to a direct ascension. "Then shall the Son himself be subject unto Him that put all things under him, that God may be all in all." Then placid virtues and innocent joys should fill the world, and human life be what it was in Eden ere guilt forbade angelic visitants and converse with heaven.21 "So when" without a 21 Neander thinks Paul's idea was that "the perfected kingdom of God would then blend itself harmoniously throughout his unbounded dominions." We believe his apprehension is correct. This globe would become a part of the general paradise, an ante room or a l ower story to the Temple of the Universe. previous descent into Hades, as the context proves "this mortal shall have put on immortality, then shall be brought to pass the saying which is written, 'Death shall be swallowed up in victory. O Death, thou last enemy, where is thy sting? O Hades, thou gloomy prison, where is thy victory?'" The exposition just offered is confirmed by its striking adaptedness to the whole Pauline scheme. It is also the interpretation given by the earliest Fathers, and by the Church in general until now. This idea of men being changed and rising into heaven without at all entering the disembodied state below was evidently in the mind of Milton when he wrote the following lines: "And from these corporeal nutriments, perhaps. Your bodies may at last turn all to spirit, And, wing'd, ascend ethereal, may, at choice, Here, or in heavenly paradise, dwell." It now remains to see what Paul thought was to be the final portion of the hardened and persevering sinner. One class of passages in his writings, if taken by themselves, would lead us to believe that on that point he had no fixed convictions in regard to particulars, but, thinking these beyond the present reach of reason, contented himself with the general assurance that all such persons would meet their just deserts, and there left the subject in obscurity. "God will render to every man to the Jew first, and also to the Greek according to his deeds." "Whatsoever a man soweth, that shall he also reap." "So then every one of us shall give an account of himself to God." "At the judgment seat of Christ every one shall receive the things done in his body, according to that he hath done, whether it be good or whether it be bad." From these and a few kindred texts we might infer that the author, aware that he "knew but in part," simply held the belief without attempting to pry into special methods, details, and results that at the time of the judgment all should have exact justice. He may, however, have unfolded in his preaching minutia of faith not explained in his letters. A second class of passages in the epistles of Paul would naturally cause the common reader to conclude that he imagined that the unregenerate those unfit for the presence of God were to be annihilated when Christ, after his second coming, should return to heaven with his saints. "Those who know not God and obey not the gospel of Christ shall be punished with everlasting destruction from the presence and glory of the Lord when he shall come." "The end of the enemies of the cross of Christ is destruction." "The vessels of wrath fitted for destruction." "As many as have sinned without law shall perish without law." But it is to be observed that the word here rendered "destruction" need not signify annihilation. It often, even in Paul's epistles, plainly means severe punishment, dreadful misery, moral ruin, and retribution. For example, "foolish and hurtful lusts, which drown men in destruction and perdition," "piercing them through with many sorrows." It may or may not have that sense in the instances above cited. Their meaning is intrinsically uncertain: we must bring other passages and distinct considerations to aid our interpretation. From a third selection of texts in Paul's epistles it is not strange that some persons have deduced the doctrine of unconditional, universal salvation. "As in Adam all die, even so in Christ shall all be made alive." But the genuine explanation of this sentence, we are constrained to believe, is as follows: "As, following after the example of Adam, all souls descend below, so, following after Christ, all shall be raised up," that is, at the judgment, after which event some may be taken to heaven, others banished again into Hades. "We trust in the living God, who is the Savior of all men, especially of them that believe." This means that all men have been saved now from the unconditional sentence to Hades brought on them by the first sin, but not all know the glad tidings: those who receive them into believing hearts are already exulting over their deliverance and their hopes of heaven. All are objectively saved from the unavoidable and universal necessity of Hadean imprisonment; the obedient believers are also subjectively saved from the contingent and personal risk of incurring that doom. "God hath shut them all up together in unbelief, that he might have mercy upon all." "All" here means both Jews and Gentiles; and the reference is to the universal annulment of the universal fatality, and the impartial offer of heaven to every one who sanctifies the truth in his heart. In some cases the word "all" is used with rhetorical looseness, not with logical rigidness, and denotes merely all Christians. Ruckert shows this well in his commentary on the fifteenth chapter of First Corinthians. In other instances the universality, which is indeed plainly there, applies to the removal from the race of the inherited doom; while a conditionality is unquestionably implied as to the actual salvation of each person. We say Paul does constantly represent personal salvation as depending on conditions, as beset by perils and to be earnestly striven for. "Lest that by any means I myself should be a castaway." "Deliver such an one to Satan for the destruction of the flesh, that the spirit may be saved in the day of the Lord Jesus." "Wherefore we labor, that, whether present or absent, we may be accepted of the lord." "To them that are saved we are a savor of life unto life; to them that perish, a savor of death unto death." "Charge them that are rich that they be humble and do good, laying up in store a good foundation, that they may lay hold on eternal life." It is clear, from these and many similar passages of Paul, that he did not believe in the unconditional salvation, the positive mechanical salvation, of all individuals, but held personal salvation to be a contingent problem, to be worked out, through the permitting grace of God, by Christian faith, works, and character. How plainly this is contained, too, in his doctrine of "a resurrection of the just and the unjust," and of a day of judgment, from whose august tribunal Christ is to pronounce sentence according to each man's deeds! At the same time, the undeniable fact deserves particular remembrance that he says, and apparently knows, nothing whatever of a hell, in the present acceptation of that term, a prison house of fiery tortures. He assigns the realm of Satan and the evil spirits to the air, the vexed region between earth and heaven, according to the demonology of his age and country. 22 Finally, there is a fourth class of passages, from which we might infer that the apostle's faith merely excluded the reprobate from participating in the ascent with Christ, just as some of the Pharisees excluded the Gentiles from their resurrection, and there left the subject in darkness. 22 A detailed and most curious account of this region, which he calls Tartarus, is given by Angustine. De Gen. ad. lit. lib. iii. cap. 14, 15, ed. Benedictina. "They that are Christ's," "the dead in Christ, shall rise." "No sensualist, extortioner, idolater, hath any inheritance in the kingdom of Christ and of God." "There is laid up a crown of righteousness, which the Lord shall give in that day to all them that love his appearing." In all these, and in many other cases, there is a marked omission of any reference to the ultimate positive disposal of the wicked. Still, against the supposition of his holding the doctrine that all except good Christians would be left below eternally, we have his repeated explicit avowals. "I have hope towards God that there shall be a resurrection both of the just and the unjust." "We must all appear before the judgment seat of Christ." These last statements, however, prove only that Paul thought the bad as well as the good would be raised up and judged: they are not inconsistent with the belief that the condemned would afterwards either be annihilated, or remanded everlastingly to the under world. This very belief, we think, is contained in that remarkable passage where Paul writes to the Philippians that he strives "if by any means he may attain unto the resurrection." Now, the common resurrection of the dead for judgment needed not to be striven for: it would occur to all unconditionally. But there is another resurrection, or another part remaining to complete the resurrection, namely, after the judgment, a rising of the accepted to heaven. All shall rise from Hades upon the earth to judgment. This Paul calls simply the resurrection, [Non ASCII Characters] After the judgment, the accepted shall rise to heaven. This Paul calls, with distinctive emphasis, [Non ASCII Characters] the pre eminent or complete resurrection, the prefix being used as an intensive. This is what the apostle considers uncertain and labors to secure, "stretching forward and pressing towards the goal for the prize of that call upwards," [Non ASCII Characters] (that invitation to heaven,) "which God has extended through Christ." Those who are condemned at the judgment can have no part in this completion of the resurrection, cannot enter the heavenly kingdom, but must be "punished with everlasting destruction from the presence and glory of the Lord," that is, as we suppose is signified, be thrust into the under world for evermore. As unessential to our object, we have omitted an exposition of the Pauline doctrine of the natural rank and proper or delegated offices of Christ in the universe; also an examination of the validity of the doubts and arguments brought against the genuineness of the lesser epistles ascribed to Paul. In close, we will sum up in brief array the leading conceptions in his view of the last things. First, there is a world of immortal light and bliss over the sky, the exclusive abode of God and the angels from of old; and there is a dreary world of darkness and repose under the earth, the abode of all departed human spirits. Secondly, death was originally meant to lead souls into heaven, clothed in new and divine bodies, immediately on the fall of the present tabernacle; but sin broke that plan and doomed souls to pass disembodied into Hades. Thirdly, the Mosaic dispensation of law could not deliver men from that sentence; but God had promised Abraham that through one of his posterity they should be delivered. To fulfil that promise Christ came. He illustrated God's unpurchased love and forgiveness and determination to restore the original plan, as if men had never sinned. Christ effected this aim, in conjunction with his teachings, by dying, descending into Hades, as if the doom of a sinful man were upon him also, subduing the powers of that prison house, rising again, and ascending into heaven, the first one ever admitted there from among the dead, thus exemplifying the fulfilled "expectation of the creature that was groaning and travailing in pain" to be born into the freedom of the heavenly glory of the sons of God. Fourthly, "justification by faith," therefore, means the redemption from Hades by acceptance of the dispensation of free grace which is proclaimed in the gospel. Fifthly, every sanctified believer receives a pledge or earnest of the spirit sealing him as God's and assuring him of acceptance with Christ and of advance to heaven. Sixthly, Christ is speedily to come a second time, come in glory and power irresistible, to consummate his mission, raise the dead, judge the world, establish a new order of things, and return into heaven with his chosen ones. Seventhly, the stubbornly wicked portion of mankind will be returned eternally into the under world. Eighthly, after the judgment the subterranean realm of death will be shut up, no more souls going into it, but all men at their dissolution being instantly invested with spiritual bodies and ascending to the glories of the Lord. Finally, Jesus having put down all enemies and restored the primeval paradise will yield up his mediatorial throne, and God the Father be all in all. The preparatory rudiments of this system of the last things existed in the belief of the age, and it was itself composed by the union of a theoretic interpretation of the life of Christ and of the connected phenomena succeeding his death, with the elements of Pharasaic Judaism, all mingled in the crucible of the soul of Paul and fused by the fires of his experience. It illustrates a great number of puzzling passages in the New Testament, without the necessity of recourse to the unnatural, incredible, unwarranted dogmas associated with them by the unique, isolated peculiarities of Calvinism. The interpretation given above, moreover, has this strong confirmation of its accuracy, namely, that it is arrived at from the stand point of the thought and life of the Apostle Paul in the first century, not from the stand point of the theology and experience of the educated Christian of the nineteenth century. CHAPTER V. JOHN'S DOCTRINE OF A FUTURE LIFE. WE are now to see if we can determine and explain what were the views of the Apostle John upon the subject of death and life, condemnation and salvation, the resurrection and immortality. To understand his opinions on these points, it is obviously necessary to examine his general system of theological thought. John is regarded as the writer of the proem to the fourth Gospel, also of three brief epistles. There are such widely spread doubts of his being the author of the Apocalypse that it has seemed better to examine that production separately, leaving each one free to attribute its doctrine of the last things to whatever person known or unknown he believes wrote the book. It is true that the authorship of the fourth Gospel itself is powerfully disputed; but an investigation of that question would lead us too far and detain us too long from our real aim, which is not to discuss the genuineness or the authority of the New Testament documents, but to show their meaning in what they actually contain and imply concerning a future life. It is necessary to premise that we think it certain that John wrote with some reference to the sprouting philosophy of his time, the Platonic and Oriental speculations so early engrafted upon the stock of Christian doctrine. For the peculiar theories which were matured and systematized in the second and third centuries by the Gnostic sects were floating about, in crude and fragmentary forms, at the close of the first century, when the apostle wrote. They immediately awakened dissension and alarm, cries of heresy and orthodoxy, in the Church. Some modern writers deny the presence in the New Testament of any allusion to such views; but the weight of evidence on the other side internal, from similarity of phrase, and external, from the testimony of early Fathers is, when accumulated and appreciated, overwhelming. Among these Gnostic notions the most distinctive and prominent was the belief that the world was created and the Jewish dispensation given, not by the true and infinite God, but by a subordinate and imperfect deity, the absolute God remaining separate from all created things, unknown and afar, in the sufficiency of his aboriginal pleroma or fulness. The Gnostics also maintained that Creative Power, Reason, Life, Truth, Love, and other kindred realities, were individual beings, who had emanated from God, and who by their own efficiency constructed, illuminated, and carried on the various provinces of creation and races of existence. Many other opinions, fanciful, absurd, or recondite, which they held, it is not necessary here to state. The evangelist, without alluding perhaps to any particular teachers or systems of these doctrines, but only to their general scope, traverses by his declarations partially the same ground of thought which they cover, stating dogmatically the positive facts as he apprehended them. He agrees with some of the Gnostic doctrines and differs from others, not setting himself to follow or to oppose them indiscriminately, but to do either as the truth seemed to him to require. There are two methods of seeking the meaning of the introduction to the fourth Gospel where the Johannean doctrine of the Logos is condensed. We may study it grammatically, or historically; morally, or metaphysically; from the point of view of experimental religious faith, or from that of contemporary speculative philosophy. He who omits either of these ways of regarding the subject must arrive at an interpretation essentially defective. Both modes of investigation are indispensable for acquiring a full comprehension of the expressions employed and the thoughts intended. But to be fitted to understand the theme in its historical aspect which, in this case, for purposes of criticism, is by far the more important one must be intelligently acquainted with the Hebrew personification of the Wisdom, also of the Word, of God; with the Platonic conception of archetypal ideas; with the Alexandrian Jewish doctrine of the Divine Logos; and with the relevant Gnostic and Christian speculation and phraseology of the first two centuries. Especially must the student be familiar with Philo, who was an eminent Platonic Jewish philosopher and a celebrated writer, flourishing previous to the composition of the fourth Gospel, in which, indeed, there is scarcely a single superhuman predicate of Christ which may not be paralleled with striking closeness from his extant works. In all these fields are found, in imperfect proportions and fragments, the materials which are developed in John's belief of the Logos become flesh. To present all these materials here would be somewhat out of place and would require too much room. We shall, therefore, simply state, as briefly and clearly as possible, the final conclusions to which a thorough study has led us, drawing such illustrations as we do advance almost entirely from Philo.1 1 The reader who wishes to see in smallest compass and most lucid order the facts requisite for the formation of a judgment is referred to Lucke's "Dissertation on the Logos," to Norton's "Statement of Reasons," and to Neander's exposition of the Johannean theology in his "Planting and Training of the Church." Nearly every thing important, both external and internal, is collected in these three sources taken together, and set forth with great candor, power, and skill. Differing in their conclusions, they supply pretty adequate means for the independent student to conclude for himself. In the first place, what view of the Father himself, the absolute Deity, do these writings present? John conceives of God no one can well collate the relevant texts in his works without perceiving this as the one perfect and eternal Spirit, in himself invisible to mortal eyes, the Personal Love, Life, Truth, Light, "in whom is no darkness at all." This corresponds entirely with the purest and highest idea the human mind can form of the one untreated infinite God. The apostle, then, going back to the period anterior to the material creation, and soaring to the contemplation of the sole God, does not conceive of him as being utterly alone, but as having a Son with him, an "only begotten Son," a beloved companion "before the foundation of the world." "In the beginning was the Logos, and the Logos was with God, and the Logos was God. He was in the beginning with God. All things were made through him, and without him was nothing made that was made." The true explanation of these words, according to their undeniable historical and their unforced grammatical. There is an English translation of it, by Professor G. R. Noyes, in the numbers of the Christian Examiner for March and May, 1849, meaning, is as follows. Before the material creation, when God was yet the sole being, his first production, the Logos, was a Son, at once the image of himself and the idea of the yet uncreated world. By him this personal Idea, Son, or Logos all things were afterward created; or, more exactly, through him, by means of him, all things became, that is, were brought, from their being in a state of conception in the mind of God, into actual existence in space and time. Thus Philo says, "God is the most generic; second is the Logos of God."2 "The Logos is the first begotten Son."3 "The Logos of God is above the whole world, and is the most ancient and generic of all that had a beginning."4 "Nothing intervenes between the Logos and God on whom he rests."5 "This sensible world is the junior son of God; the Senior is the Idea,"6 or Logos. "The shadow and seeming portrait of God is his Logos, by which, as by an assumed instrument, he made the world. As God is the original of the image here called shadow, so this image becomes the original of other things."7 "The intelligible world, or world of archetypal ideas, is the Logos of the world creating God; as an intelligible or ideal city is the thought of the architect reflecting to build a sensible city."8 "Of the world, God is the cause by which, the four elements the material from which, the Logos the instrument through which, the goodness of the Creator the end for which, it was made."9 These citations from Philo clearly show, in various stages of development, that doctrine of the Logos which began first arguing to the Divine Being from human analogies with separating the conception of a plan in the mind of God from its execution in fact; proceeded with personifying that plan, or sum of ideas, as a mediating agent between motive and action, between impulse and fulfilment; and ended with hypostatizing the arranging power of the Divine thought as a separate being, his intellectual image or Son, his first and perfect production. They unequivocally express these thoughts: that God is the only being who was from eternity; that the Logos was the first begotten, antemundane being, that he was the likeness, image, immediate manifestation, of the Father; that he was the medium of creation, the instrumental means in the outward formation of the world. History shows us this doctrine unfolded by minute steps, which it would be tedious to follow, from the Book of Proverbs to Philo Judaus and John, from Plato to Justin Martyr and Athanasius. But the rapid sketch just presented may be sufficient now. When it is written, "and the Logos was God," the meaning is not strictly literal. To guard against its being so considered, the author tautologically repeats what he had said immediately before, "the same was in the beginning with God." Upon the supposition that the Logos is strictly identical with God, the verses make utter nonsense. "In the beginning was God, and God was with God, and God was God. God was in the beginning with God." But suppose the Logos to mean an ante mundane but subordinate being, who was a perfect image or likeness of God, and the sense is both clear and satisfactory, and no violence is done either to historical data or to grammatical demands. "And the Logos was God," that is, was the mirror or facsimile of God. So, employing the same idiom, we are accustomed to say 2 Mangey's edition of Philo, vol. i. p. 82. 3 Ibid. p. 308. 4 Ibid. p. 121. 5 Ibid. p. 560. 6 Ibid. p. 277. 7 Ibid. p. 106. 8 Ibid. p. 5. 9 Ibid. p. 162. of an accurate representation of a person, It is the very man himself! Or, without the use of this idiom, we may explain the expression "the Logos was God" thus: He stands in the place of God to the lower creation: practically considered, he is as God to us. As Philo writes, "To the wise and perfect the Most High is God; but to us, imperfect beings, the Logos God's interpreter is God."10 The inward significance of the Logos doctrine, in all its degrees and phases, circumstantially and essentially, from first to last, is the revelation of God. God himself, in himself, is conceived as absolutely withdrawn beyond the apprehension of men, in boundless immensity and inaccessible secrecy. His own nature is hidden, as a thought is hidden in the mind; but he has the power of revealing it, as a thought is revealed by speaking it in a word. That uttered word is the Logos, and is afterwards conceived as a person, and as creative, then as building and glorifying the world. All of God that is sent forth from passive concealment into active manifestation is the Logos. "The term Logos comprehends," Norton says, "all the attributes of God manifested in the creation and government of the universe." The Logos is the hypostasis of "the unfolded portion," "the revealing power," "the self showing faculty," "the manifesting action," of God. The essential idea, then, concerning the Logos is that he is the means through which the hidden God comes to the cognizance of his creatures. In harmony with this prevailing philosophy one who believed the Logos to have been incarnated in Christ would suppose the purpose of his incarnation to be the fuller revelation of God to men. And Martineau says, "The view of revelation which is implicated in the folds of the Logos doctrine that everywhere pervades the fourth Gospel, is that it is the appearance to beings who have something of a divine spirit within them, of a yet diviner without them, leading them to the divinest of all, who embraces them both." This is a fine statement of the practical religious aspect of John's conception of the nature and office of the Savior. Since he regarded God as personal love, life, truth, and light, and Christ, the embodied Logos, as his only begotten Son, an exact image of him in manifestation, it follows that John regarded Christ, next in rank below God, as personal love, life, truth, and light; and the belief that he was the necessary medium of communicating these Divine blessings to men would naturally result. Accordingly, we find that John repeats, as falling from the lips of Christ, all the declarations required by and supporting such an hypothesis. "I am the way, the truth, and the life." "No man cometh unto the Father but by me." But Philo, too, had written before in precisely the same strain. Witness the correspondences between the following quotations respectively from John and Philo. "I am the bread which came down from heaven to give life to the world."11 Whoso eateth my body and drinketh my blood hath eternal life."12 "Behold, I rain bread upon you from heaven: the heavenly food of the soul is the word of God, and the Divine Logos, from whom all eternal instructions and wisdoms flow."13 "The bread the Lord gave us to eat was his word."14 "Except ye eat my flesh and drink my blood, ye have no life 10 Mangey's edition of Philo, vol. ii. p. 128. 11 John vi. 33. 41. 12 Ibid. 54. 13 Quoted by G. Scheffer in his Treatise "De Usu Philonis in Interpretatione Novi Testamenti," p. 82. 14 lbid. p. 81. in you."15 "He alone can become the heir of incorporeal and divine things whose whole soul is filled with the salubrious Word."16 "Every one that seeth the Son and believeth on him shall have everlasting life."17 "He strains every nerve towards the highest Divine Logos, who is the fountain of wisdom, in order that, drawing from that spring, he may escape death and win everlasting life."18 "I am the living bread which came down from heaven: if any man eat of this bread he shall live forever."19 "Lifting up his eyes to the ether, man receives manna, the Divine Logos, heavenly and immortal nourishment for the right desiring soul."20 "God is the perennial fountain of life; God is the fountain of the most ancient Logos."21 "As the living Father hath sent me, and I live by the Father, so he that eateth me, even he shall live by me."22 Does it not seem perfectly plain that John's doctrine of the Christ is at bottom identical with Philo's doctrine of the Logos? The difference of development in the two doctrines, so far as there is a difference, is that the latter view is philosophical, abstract; the former, practical, historical. Philo describes the Logos ideally, filling the supersensible sphere, mediating between the world and God; John presents him really, incarnated as a man, effecting the redemption of our race. The same dignity, the same offices, are predicated of him by both. John declares, "In him [the Divine Logos] was life, and the life was the light of men."23 Philo asserts, "Nothing is more luminous and irradiating than the Divine Logos, by the participation of whom other things expel darkness and gloom, earnestly desiring to partake of living light."24 John speaks of Christ as "the only begotten Son, who is in the bosom of the Father."25 Philo says, "The Logos is the first begotten Son of God," "between whom and God nothing intervenes."26 John writes, "The Son of man will give you the food of everlasting life; for him hath God the Father sealed."27 Philo writes, "The stamp of the seal of God is the immortal Logos."28 We have this from John: "He was manifested to take away our sins; and in him is no sin."29 And this from Philo: "The Divine Logos is free from all sins, voluntary and involuntary."30 The Johannean Christ is the Philonean Logos born into the world as a man. "And the Logos was made flesh, and dwelt among us, full of grace and truth." The substance of what has thus far been established may now be concisely stated. The essential thought, whether the subject be metaphysically or practically considered, is this. God is the eternal, infinite personality of love and truth, life and light. The Logos is his first born Son, his exact image, the reproduction of his being, the next lower personality of love and truth, life and light, the instrument for creating and ruling the world, the revelation of God, the medium of communication between God and his works. Christ is that Logos come upon the earth as a man to save the perishing, proving his pre existence and superhuman nature by his miraculous knowledge and works. That the belief expressed in the last sentence is correctly attributed to John will 15 John vi. 53. 16 Philo, vol. i. p. 482. 17 John vi. 40. 18 Philo, vol. i. p. 560. 19 John vi. 51. 20 Philo, vol. i. p. 498. 21 Ibid. pp. 575, 207. 22 John vi. 57. 23 John i. 4. 24 Philo, vol. i. p. 121. 25 John i. 18. 26 Philo, vol. i. pp. 427, 560. 27 John vi. 27. 28 Philo, vol. ii. p. 606. 29 1 John iii. 5. 30 Philo, vol. i. p. 562. be repeatedly substantiated before the close of this chapter: in regard to the statements in the preceding sentences no further proof is thought necessary. With the aid of a little repetition, we will now attempt to make a step of progress. The tokens of energy, order, splendor, beneficence, in the universe, are not, according to John, as we have seen, the effects of angelic personages, emanating gods, Gnostic aons, but are the workings of the self revealing power of the one true and eternal God, this power being conceived by John, according to the philosophy of his age, as a proper person, God's instrument in creation. Reason, life, light, love, grace, righteousness, kindred terms so thickly scattered over his pages, are not to him, as they were to the Gnostics, separate beings, but are the very working of the Logos, consubstantial manifestations of God's nature and attributes. But mankind, fallen into folly and vice, perversity and sin, lying in darkness, were ignorant that these Divine qualities were in reality mediate exhibitions of God, immediate exhibitions of the Logos. "The light was shining in darkness, and the darkness comprehended it not." Then, to reveal to men the truth, to regenerate them and conjoin them through himself with the Father in the experience of eternal life, the hypostatized Logos left his transcendent glory in heaven and came into the world in the person of Jesus. "No man hath seen God at any time: the only begotten Son who is in the bosom of the Father, he hath revealed him." "I came down from heaven to do the will of Him that sent me." This will is that all who see and believe on the Son shall have everlasting life. "God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life." "The bread of God is He who cometh down from heaven and giveth life to the world." The doctrine of the pre existence of souls, and of their being born into the world in the flesh, was rife in Judea when this Gospel was written, and is repeatedly alluded to in it.31 That John applies this doctrine to Christ in the following and in other instances is obvious. "Before Abraham was, I am." "I came forth from the Father and am come into the world." "Father, glorify thou me with the glory which I had with thee before the world was." "What and if ye shall see the Son of Man ascend up where he was before?" As for ourselves, we do not see how it is possible for any unprejudiced person, after studying the fourth Gospel faithfully with the requisite helps, to doubt that the writer of it believed that Jesus pre existed as the Divine Logos, and that he became incarnate to reveal the Father and to bring men into the experience of true eternal life. John declares this, in his first epistle, in so many words, saying, "The living Logos, the eternal life which was with the Father from the beginning, was manifested unto us;" and, "God sent his only begotten Son into the world that we might live through him." Whether the doctrine thus set forth was really entertained and taught by Jesus himself, or whether it is the interpretation put on his language by one whose mind was full of the notions of the age, are distinct questions. With the settlement of these questions we are not now concerned: such a discussion would be more appropriate when examining the genuine meaning of the words of Christ. All that is necessary here is the suggestion that when we show the theological system of John it does not necessarily follow that that is the true 31 John i. 21; ix. 2. teaching of Christ. Having adopted the Logos doctrine, it might tinge and turn his thoughts and words when reporting from memory, after the lapse of many years, the discourses of his Master. He might unconsciously, under such an influence, represent literally what was figuratively intended, and reflect from his own mind lights and shades, associations and meanings, over all or much of what he wrote. There are philosophical and literary peculiarities which have forced many of the best critics to make this distinction between the intended meaning of Christ's declarations as he uttered them, and their received meaning as this evangelist reported them. Norton says, "Whether St. John did or did not adopt the Platonic conception of the Logos is a question not important to be settled in order to determine our own judgment concerning its truth."32 Lucke has written to the same effect, but more fully: "We are allowed to distinguish the sense in which John understood the words of Christ, from the original sense in which Christ used them."33 It is to be observed that in all that has been brought forward, thus far, there is not the faintest hint of the now current notion of the Trinity. The idea put forth by John is not at all allied with the idea that the infinite God himself assumed a human shape to walk the earth and undergo mortal sufferings. It is simply said that that manifested and revealing portion of the Divine attributes which constituted the hypostatized Logos was incarnated and displayed in a perfect, sinless sample of man, thus exhibiting to the world a finite image of God. We will illustrate this doctrine with reference to the inferences to be drawn from it in regard to human nature. John repeatedly says, in effect, "God is truth," "God is light," "God is love," "God is life." He likewise says of the Savior, "In him was life, and the life was the light of men," and reports him as saying of himself, "I am the truth," "I am the life," "I am the light of the world." The fundamental meaning of these declarations so numerous, striking, and varied in the writings of John is, that all those qualities which the consciousness of humanity has recognised as Divine are consubstantial with the being of God; that all the reflections of them in nature and man belong to the Logos, the eldest Son, the first production, of God; and that in Jesus their personality, the very Logos himself, was consciously embodied, to be brought nearer to men, to be exemplified and recommended to them. Reason, power, truth, light, love, blessedness, are not individual aons, members of a hierarchy of deities, but are the revealing elements of the one true God. The personality of the abstract and absolute fulness of all these substantial qualities is God. The personality of the discerpted portion of them shown in the universe is the Logos. Now, that latter personality Christ was. Consequently, while he was a man, he was not merely a man, but was also a supernatural messenger from heaven, sent into the world to impersonate the image of God under the condition of humanity, free from every sinful defect and spot. Thus, being the manifesting representative of the Father, he could say, "He that hath seen me hath [virtually] seen the Father." Not that they were identical in person, but that they were similar in nature and character, spirit and design: both were eternal holiness, love, truth, and life. "I and my Father are one thing," (in essence, not in personality.) Nothing can be more 32 Statement of Reasons, 1st ed. p. 239. 33 Christian Examiner, May, 1849, p. 431. unequivocally pronounced than the subordination of the Son to the Father that the Father sent him, that he could do nothing without the Father, that his Father was greater than he, that his testimony was confirmed by the Father's in a hundred places by John, both as author writing his own words and as interpreter reporting Christ's. There is not a text in the record that implies Christ's identity with God, but only his identity with the Logos. The identity of the Logos with God is elementary, not personal. From this view it follows that every man who possesses, knows, and exhibits the elements of the Divine life, the characteristics of God, is in that degree a son of God, Christ being pre eminently the Son on account of his pre eminent likeness, his supernatural divinity, as the incarnate Logos. That the apostle held and taught this conclusion appears, first, from the fact, otherwise inexplicable, that he records the same sublime statements concerning all good Christians, with no other qualification than that of degree, that he does concerning Christ himself. Was Jesus the Son of God? "To as many as received him he gave power to become the sons of God." There is in Philo a passage corresponding remarkably with this one from John: "Those who have knowledge of the truth are properly called sons of God: he who is still unfit to be named a son of God should endeavor to fashion himself to the first born Logos of God."34 Was Jesus "from above," while wicked men were "from beneath"? "They are not of the world, even as I am not of the world." Was Jesus sent among men with a special commission? "As thou hast sent me into the world, even so have I also sent them into the world." Was Jesus the subject of a peculiar glory, bestowed upon him by the Father? "The glory which thou gavest me I have given them, that they may be one, even as we are one." Had Jesus an inspiration and a knowledge not vouchsafed to the princes of this world? "Ye have an unction from the Holy One, and ye know all things." Did Jesus perform miraculous works? "He that believeth on me, the works that I do shall he do also." In the light of the general principle laid down, that God is the actual fulness of truth and love and light and blessedness; that Christ, the Logos, is the manifested impersonation of them; and that all men who receive him partake of their Divine substance and enjoy their prerogative, the texts just cited, and numerous other similar ones, are transparent. It is difficult to see how on any other hypothesis they can be made to express an intelligible and consistent meaning. Secondly, we are brought to the same conclusion by the synonymous use and frequent interchange of different terms in the Johannean writings. Not only it is said, "Whoever is born of God cannot sin," but it is also written, "Every one that doeth righteousness is born of God;" and again, "Whosoever believeth that Jesus is the Christ is born of God." In other words, having a good character and leading a just life, heartily receiving and obeying the revelation made by Christ, are identical phrases. "He that hath the Son hath life." "Whosoever transgresseth and abideth not in the doctrine of Christ hath not God." "This is the victory that overcometh the world, even our faith" in the doctrine of Christ. "He that dwelleth in love dwelleth in God and God in him." "He that keepeth the commandments dwelleth in God and God in him." "He that confesseth that Jesus is the Son of God, God 34 Philo, vol. i. p. 427. dwelleth in him and he in God." "He that doeth good is of God." "God hath given to us eternal life, and this life is in his Son." "The Son of God is come, and hath given us an understanding that we may know the true God and eternal life." From these citations, and from other passages which will readily occur, we gather the following pregnant results. To "do the truth," "walk in the truth," "walk in the light," "keep the commandments," "do righteousness," "abide in the doctrine of Christ," "do the will of God," "do good," "dwell in love," "abide in Christ," "abide in God," "abide in life," all are expressions meaning precisely the same thing. They all signify essentially the conscious possession of goodness; in other words, the practical adoption of the life and teachings of Jesus; or, in still other terms, the personal assimilation of the spiritual realities of the Logos, which are love, life, truth, light. Jesus having been sent into the world to exemplify the characteristics and claims of the Father, and to regenerate men from unbelief and sin to faith and righteousness, those who were walking in darkness, believers of lies and doers of unrighteousness, those who were abiding in alienation and death, might by receiving and following him be restored to the favor of God and pass from darkness and death into life and light. "This is eternal life, that they should know thee, the only true God, and Jesus Christ whom thou hast sent." The next chief point in the doctrine of John is his belief in an evil being, the personality of wickedness, and the relation between him and bad men. There have been, from the early centuries, keen disputes on the question whether this apostle uses the terms devil and evil one with literal belief or with figurative accommodation. We have not a doubt that the former is the true view. The popular denial of the existence of evil spirits, with an arch demon over them, is the birth of a philosophy much later than the apostolic age. The use of the term "devil" merely as the poetic or ethical personification of the seductive influences of the world is the fruit of theological speculation neither originated nor adopted by the Jewish prophets or by the Christian apostles. Whoso will remember the prevailing faith of the Jews at that time, and the general state of speculative opinion, and will recollect the education of John, and notice the particular manner in which he alludes to the subject throughout his epistles and in his reports of the discourses of Jesus, we think will be convinced that the Johannean system includes a belief in the actual existence of Satan according to the current Pharisaic dogma of that age. It is not to be disguised, either, that the investigations of the ablest critics have led an overwhelming majority of them to this interpretation. "I write unto you, young men, because ye have overcome the evil one." "He that is begotten of God guardeth himself, and the evil one toucheth him not." "He that committeth sin is of the devil, for the devil sinneth from the beginning." "Whosoever is born of God cannot sin. In this the children of God are manifest, and the children of the devil." "Ye are of your father the devil, and his lusts ye will do." There can be no doubt that these, and other passages of a kindred and complementary nature, yield the following view. Good men are allied to God, because their characteristics are the same as his, truth, light, love, life, righteousness. "As he is, so are we in this world." Bad men are allied to the devil, because their characteristics are the same as his, falsehood, darkness, hatred, death, sin. "Cain, who slew his brother, was of the evil one." The facts, then, of the great moral problem of the world, according to John, were these. God is the infinite Father, whose nature and attributes comprehend all holy, beautiful, desirable realities, and who would draw mankind to his blessed embrace forever. The goodness, illumination, and joy of holy souls reflect his holiness and display his reign. The devil is the great spirit of wickedness, whose attributes comprehend all evil, dark, fearful realities, and who entices mankind to sin. The wickedness, gloom, and misery of corrupt souls reveal his likeness and his kingdom. The former manifests himself in the glories of the world and in the divine qualities of the soul. The latter manifests himself in the whole history of temptation and sin and in the vicious tendencies of the heart. Good men, those possessing pre eminently the moral qualities of God, are his children, are born of him, that is, are inspired and led by him. Bad men, those possessing in a ruling degree the qualities of the devil, are his children, are born of him, that is, are animated and governed by his spirit. Whether the evangelist gave to his own mind any philosophical account of the origin and destiny of the devil or not is a question concerning which his writings are not explicit enough for us to determine. In the beginning he represents God as making, by means of the Logos, all things that were made, and his light as shining in darkness that comprehended it not. Now, he may have conceived of matter as uncreated, eternally existing in formless night, the ground of the devil's being, and may have limited the work of creation to breaking up the sightless chaos, defining it into orderly shapes, filling it with light and motion, and peopling it with children of heaven. Such was the Persian faith, familiar at that time to the Jews. Neander, with others, objects to this view that it would destroy John's monotheism and make him a dualist, a believer in two self existents, aboriginal and everlasting antagonists. It only needs to be observed, in reply, that John was not a philosopher of such thorough dialectic training as to render it impossible for inconsistencies to coexist in his thoughts. In fact, any one who will examine the beliefs of even such men as Origen and Augustine will perceive that such an objection is not valid. Some writers of ability and eminence have tried to maintain that the Johannean conception of Satan was of some exalted archangel who apostatized from the law of God and fell from heaven into the abyss of night, sin, and woe. They could have been led to such an hypothesis only by preconceived notions and prejudices, because there is not in John's writings even the obscurest intimation of such a doctrine. On the contrary, it is written that the devil is a liar and the father of lies from the beginning, the same phrase used to denote the primitive companionship of God and his Logos anterior to the creation. The devil is spoken of by John, with prominent consistency, as bearing the same relation to darkness, falsehood, sin, and death that God bears to light, truth, righteousness, and life, that is, as being their original personality and source. Whether the belief itself be true or not, be reconcilable with pure Christianity or not, in our opinion John undoubtedly held the belief of the personality of the source of wickedness, and supposed that the great body of mankind had been seduced by him from the free service of heaven, and had become infatuated in his bondage. Just here in the scheme of Christianity arises the necessity, appears the profound significance in the apostolic belief, of that disinterested interference of God through his revelation in Christ which aimed to break the reigning power of sin and redeem lost men from the tyranny of Satan. "For this purpose the Son of God was manifested, that he might destroy the works of the devil." That is to say, the revelation of the nature and will of God in the works of the creation and in the human soul was not enough, even when aided by the law of Moses, to preserve men in the truth and the life. They had been seduced by the evil one into sin, alienated from the Divine favor, and plunged in darkness and death. A fuller, more powerful manifestation of the character, claims, attractions of the Father was necessary to recall the benighted wanderers from their lost state and restore them to those right relations and to that conscious communion with God in which alone true life consists. Then, and for that purpose, Jesus Christ was commissioned to appear, a pre existent being of most exalted rank, migrating from the super stellar sphere into this world, to embody and mirror forth through the flesh those characteristics which are the natural attributes of God the Father and the essential conditions of heaven the home. In him the glorious features of the Divinity were miniatured on a finite scale and perfectly exhibited, "thus revealing," (as Neander says, in his exposition of John's doctrine,) "for the first time, in a comprehensible manner, what a being that God is whose holy personality man was created to represent." So Philo says, "The Logos is the image of God, and man is the image of the Logos."35 Therefore, according to this view, man is the image of the image of God. The dimmed, imperfect reflection of the Father, originally shining in nature and the soul, would enable all who had not suppressed it and lost the knowledge of it, to recognise at once and adore the illuminated image of Him manifested and moving before them in the person of the Son; the faint gleams of Divine qualities yet left within their souls would spontaneously blend with the full splendors irradiating the form of the inspired and immaculate Christ. Thus they would enter into a new and intensified communion with God, and experience an unparalleled depth of peace and joy, an inspired assurance of eternal life. But those who, by worldliness and wickedness, had obscured and destroyed all their natural knowledge of God and their affinities to him, being without the inward preparation and susceptibility for the Divine which the Savior embodied and manifested, would not be able to receive it, and thus would pass an infallible sentence upon themselves. "When the Comforter is come, he will convict the world of sin, because they believe not on me." "He that believeth on the Son hath eternal life; but he that believeth not is condemned already, in that he loveth darkness rather than light." "Hereby know we the spirit of truth and the spirit of error: he that knoweth God heareth us; he that is not of God heareth not us." "Who is a liar but he that denieth that Jesus is the Christ?" The idea is, that such a denial must be caused by inward depravity, could only spring from an evil character. In the ground thought just presented we may find the explanation of the seemingly obscure and confused use of terms in the following instances, and learn to understand more fully John's idea of the effect of spiritual contact with Christ. "He that doeth righteousness is born of God." "He that believeth Jesus to be the Christ is born of God." "He that denieth the Son, the same hath not the Father." "He that hath the Son hath life." These passages all become perspicuous and concordant in view of John's conception of the inward unity of 35 Philo, vol. i. p. 106. truth, or the universal oneness of the Divine life, in God, in Christ, in all souls that partake of it. A character in harmony with the character of God will, by virtue of its inherent light and affinity, recognise the kindred attributes or characteristics of God, wherever manifested. He who perceives and embraces the Divinity in the character of Christ proves thereby that he was prepared to receive it by kindred qualities residing in himself, proves that he was distinctively of God. He who fails to perceive the peculiar glory of Christ proves thereby that he was alienated and blinded by sin and darkness, distinctively of the evil one. Varying the expression to illustrate the thought, if the light and warmth of a living love of God were in a soul, it would necessarily, when brought into contact with the concentrated radiance of Divinity incarnated and beaming in Christ, effect a more fervent, conscious, and abiding union with the Father than could be known before he was thus revealed. But if iniquities, sinful lusts, possessing the soul, had made it hard and cold, even the blaze of spotless virtues and miraculous endowments in the manifesting Messiah would be the radiation of light upon darkness insensible to it. Therefore, the presentation of the Divine contents of the soul or character of Jesus to different persons was an unerring test of their previous moral state: the good would apprehend him with a thrill of unison, the bad would not. To have the Son, to have the Father, to have the truth, to have eternal life, all are the same thing: hence, where one is predicated or denied all are predicated or denied. Continuing our investigation, we shall find the distinction drawn of a sensual or perishing life and a spiritual or eternal life. The term world (kosmos) is used by John apparently in two different senses. First, it seems to signify all mankind, divided sometimes into the unbelievers and the Christians. "Christ is the propitiation for our sins, and not for ours only, but also for the sins of the whole world." "God sent not his Son to condemn the world, but that the world through him might be saved." It is undeniable that "world" here means not the earth, but the men on the earth. Secondly, "world" in the dialect of John means all the evil, all the vitiating power, of the material creation. "Now shall the Prince of this world be cast out." It is not meant that this is the devil's world, because John declares in the beginning that God made it; but he means that all diabolic influence comes from the darkness of matter fighting against the light of Divinity, and by a figure he says "world," meaning the evils in the world, meaning all the follies, vanities, sins, seductive influences, of the dark and earthy, the temporal and sensual. In this case the love of the world means almost precisely what is expressed by the modern word worldliness. "Love not the world, neither the things that are in the world. If any man love the world, the love of the Father is not in him." In a vein strikingly similar, Philo writes, "It is impossible for the love of the world and the love of God to coexist, as it is impossible for light and darkness to coexist."36 "For all that is in the world," says John, "the lust of the flesh, and the greed of the eyes, and the pomp of living, is not of the Father, but is of the world. And the world passes away, with the lust thereof: but he that does the will of God abides forever." He who is taken up and absorbed in the gauds and pleasures of time and sense has no deep spring of religious experience: 36 Philo, vol. ii. p. 649. his enjoyments are of the decaying body; his heart and his thoughts are set on things which soon fly away. But the earnest believer in God pierces through all these superficial and transitory objects and pursuits, and fastens his affections to imperishable verities: he feels, far down in his soul, the living well of faith and fruition, the cool fresh fountain of spiritual hope and joy, whose stream of life flows unto eternity. The vain sensualist and hollow worldling has no true life in him: his love reaches not beyond the grave. The loyal servant of duty and devout worshipper of God has a spirit of conscious superiority to death and oblivion: though the sky fall, and the mountains melt, and the seas fade, he knows he shall survive, because immaterial truth and love are deathless. The whole thought contained in the texts we are considering is embodied with singular force and beauty in the following passage from one of the sacred books of the Hindus: "Who would have immortal life must beware of outward things, and seek inward truth, purity, and faith; for the treacherous and evanescent world flies from its votaries, like the mirage, or devil car, which moves so swiftly that one cannot ascend it." The mere negation of real life or blessedness is predicated of the careless worldling; positive death or miserable condemned unrest is predicated of the bad hearted sinner. Both these classes of men, upon accepting Christ, that is, upon owning the Divine characteristics incarnate in him, enter upon a purified, exalted, and new experience. "He that hates his brother is a murderer and abides in death." "We know that we have passed from death unto life, because we love the brethren." This new experience is distinctively, emphatically, life; it is spiritual peace, joy, trust, communion with God, and therefore immortal. It brings with it its own sufficient evidence, leaving its possessor free from misgiving doubts, conscious of his eternity. "He that believeth on the Son of God hath the witness in himself." "Hereby know we that we dwell in him and he in us, because he hath given us of his spirit." "That ye may know that ye have eternal life." The objects of Christ's mission, so far as they refer to the twofold purpose of revealing the Father by an impersonation of his image, and giving new moral life to men by awakening within them a conscious fellowship with Divine truth and goodness, have already been unfolded. But this does not include the whole: all this might have been accomplished by his appearance, authoritative teachings, miracles, and return to heaven, without dying. Why, then, did he die? What was the meaning or aim of his death and resurrection? The apostle conceives that he came not only to reveal God and to regenerate men, but also to be a "propitiation" for men's sins, to redeem them from the penalty of their sins; and it was for this end that he must suffer the doom of physical death. "Ye know that he was manifested to take away our sins." It is the more difficult to tell exactly what thoughts this language was intended by John to convey, because his writings are so brief and miscellaneous, so unsystematic and incomplete. He does not explain his own terms, but writes as if addressing those who had previously received such oral instruction as would make the obscurities clear, the hints complete, and the fragments whole. We will first quote from John all the important texts bearing on the point before us, and then endeavor to discern and explain their sense. "If we walk in the light as God is in the light, the blood of Jesus Christ, his Son, cleanseth us from all sin." "He is the propitiation for our sins." "Your sins are forgiven through his name." "The whole world is subject to the evil one." These texts, few and vague as they are, comprise every thing directly said by John upon the atonement and redemption: other relevant passages merely repeat the same substance. Certainly these statements do not of themselves teach any thing like the Augustinian doctrine of expiatory sufferings to placate the Father's indignation at sin and sinners, or to remove, by paying the awful debt of justice, the insuperable bars to forgiveness. Nothing of that sort is anywhere intimated in the Johannean documents, even in the faintest manner. So far from saying that there was unwillingness or inability in the Father to take the initiative for our ransom and pardon, he expressly avows, "Herein is love, not that we loved God, but that he loved us and sent his Son to be the propitiation for our sins." Instead of exclaiming, with the majority of modern theologians, "Believe in the atoning death, the substitutional sufferings, of Christ, and your sins shall then all be washed away, and you shall be saved," he explicitly says, "If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins." And again: "Whosoever believeth in him" not in his death, but in him "shall have eternal life." The allusions in John to the doctrine of redemption and reconciliation do not mean, it is plain enough, the buying off of the victims of eternal condemnation by the vicarious pains of Jesus. What, then, do they mean? They are too few, short, and obscure for us to decide this question conclusively by their own light alone. We must get assistance from abroad. The reader will remember that it was the Jewish belief, and the retained belief of the converts to Christianity, at that time, that men's souls, in consequence of sin, were doomed upon leaving the body to descend into the under world. This was the objective penalty of sin, inherited from Adam. Now, Christ in his superangelic state in heaven was not involved in sin or in its doom of death and subterranean banishment. Yet at the will of the Father he became a man, went through our earthly experiences, died like a sinner, and after death descended into the prison of disembodied souls below, then rose again and ascended into heaven to the Father, to show men that their sins were forgiven, the penalty taken away, and the path opened for them too to rise to eternal life in the celestial mansions with Christ "and be with him where he is." Christ's death, then, cleanses men from sin, he is a propitiation for their sins, in two ways. First, by his resurrection from the power of death and his ascent to heaven he showed men that God had removed the great penalty of sin: by his death and ascension he was the medium of giving them this knowledge. Secondly, the joy, gratitude, love to God, awakened in them by such glorious tidings, would purify their natures, exalt their souls into spiritual freedom and virtue, into a blessed and Divine life. According to this view, Christ was a vicarious sacrifice, not in the sense that he suffered instead of the guilty, to purchase their redemption from the iron justice of God, but in the sense that, when he was personally free from any need to suffer, he died for the sake of others, to reveal to them the mighty boon of God's free grace, assuring them of the wondrous gift of a heavenly immortality. This representation perfectly fills and explains the language, without violence or arbitrary suppositions, does it in harmony with all the exegetical considerations, historical and grammatical; which no other view that we know of can do. There are several independent facts which lend strong confirmation to the correctness of the exposition now given. We know that we have not directly proved the justice of that exposition, only constructively, inferentially, established it; not shown it to be true, only made it appear plausible. But that plausibility becomes an extreme probability nay, shall we not say certainty? when we weigh the following testimonies for it. First, this precise doctrine is unquestionably contained in other parts of the New Testament. We have in preceding chapters demonstrated its existence in Paul's epistles, in Peter's, in the Epistle to the Hebrews, and in the Apocalypse. Therefore, since John's phraseology is better explained by it than by any other hypothesis, it is altogether likely that his real meaning was the same. Secondly, the terms "light" and "darkness," so frequent in this evangelist, were not originated by him, but adopted. They were regarded by the Persian theology, by Plato, by Philo, by the Gnostics, as having a physical basis as well as a spiritual significance. In their conceptions, physical light, as well as spiritual holiness, was an efflux or manifestation from the supernal God; physical darkness, as well as spiritual depravity, was an emanation or effect from the infernal Satan, or principle of evil. Is it not so in the usage of John? He uses the terms, it is true, prevailingly in a moral sense: still, there is much in his statements that looks as if he supposed they had a physical ground. If so, then how natural is this connection of thought! All good comes from the dazzling world of God beyond the sky; all evil comes from the nether world of his adversary, the prince of darkness. That John believed in a local heaven on high, the residence of God, is made certain by scores of texts too plain to be evaded. Would he not, then, in all probability, believe in a local hell? Believing, as he certainly did, in a devil, the author and lord of darkness, falsehood, and death, would he not conceive a kingdom for him? In the development of ideas reached at that time, it is evident that the conception of God implied an upper world, his resplendent abode, and that the conception of Satan equally implied an under world, his gloomy realm. To the latter human souls were doomed by sin. From the former Christ came, and returned to it again, to show that the Father would forgive our sins and take us there. Thirdly, John expected that Christ, after death, would return to the Father in heaven. This appears from clear and reiterated statements in his reports of the Savior's words. But after the resurrection he tells us that Jesus had not yet ascended to the Father, but was just on the point of going. "Touch me not, for I am not yet ascended to my Father; but go to my brethren, and say unto them, I ascend unto my Father." Where, then, did he suppose the soul of his crucified Master had been during the interval between his death and his resurrection? Dormant in the body, dead with the body, laid in the tomb? That is opposed to the doctrine of uninterrupted life which pervades his writings. Besides, such a belief was held only by the Sadducees, whom the New Testament stigmatizes. To assume that such was John's conception of the fact is an arbitrary supposition, without the least warrant from any source whatever. If he imagined the soul of Jesus during that time to have been neither in heaven nor in the sepulchre, is it not pretty sure that he supposed it was in the under world, the common receptacle of souls, where, according to the belief of that age, every man went after death? Fourthly, it is to be observed, in favor of this general interpretation, that the doctrine it unfolds is in harmony with the contemporary opinions, a natural development from them, a development which would be forced upon the mind of a Jewish Christian accepting the resurrection of Christ as a fact. It was the Jewish opinion that God dwelt with his holy angels in a world of everlasting light above the firmament. It was the Jewish opinion that the departed souls of men, on account of sin, were confined beneath the earth in Satan's and death's dark and slumberous cavern of shadows. It was the Jewish opinion that the Messiah would raise the righteous dead and reign with them on earth. Now, the first Christians clung to the Jewish creed and expectations, with such modifications merely as the variation of the actual Jesus and his deeds from the theoretical Messiah and his anticipated achievements compelled. Then, when Christ having been received as the bringer of glad tidings from the Father died, and after three days rose from the dead and ascended to God, promising his brethren that where he was they should come, must they not have regarded it all as a dramatic exemplification of the fact that the region of death was no longer a hopeless dungeon, since one mighty enough to solve its chains and burst its gates had returned from it? must they not have considered him as a pledge that their sins were forgiven, their doom reversed, and heaven attainable? John, in common with all the first Christians, evidently expected that the second advent of the Lord would soon take place, to consummate the objects he had left unfinished, to raise the dead and judge them, justifying the worthy and condemning the unworthy. There was a well known Jewish tradition that the appearance of Antichrist would immediately precede the triumphant coming of the Messiah. John says, "Even now are there many Antichrists: thereby we know that it is the last hour."37 "Abide in him, that, when he shall appear, we may not be ashamed before him at his coming." "That we may have boldness in the day of judgment." The evangelist's outlook for the return of the Savior is also shown at the end of his Gospel. "Jesus said not unto him, 'He shall not die;' but, 'If I will that he tarry till I come, what is that to thee?'" That the doctrine of a universal resurrection which the Jews probably derived, through their communication with the Persians, from the Zoroastrian system, and, with various modifications, adopted is embodied in the following passage, who can doubt? "The hour is coming when all that are in the graves shall hear the voice of the Son of Man and shall come forth." That a general resurrection would literally occur under the auspices of Jesus was surely the meaning of the writer of those words. Whether that thought was intended to be conveyed by Christ in the exact terms he really used or not is a separate question, with which we are not now concerned, our object being simply to set forth John's views. Some commentators, seizing the letter and neglecting the spirit, have inferred from various texts that John expected that the resurrection would be limited to faithful Christians, just as the more rigid of the Pharisees confined it to the righteous Jews. "Except ye eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood, ye have no life in you. Whoso eateth my flesh and drinketh my blood hath eternal life; and I will raise him up at the last day." 37 See the able and impartial discussion of John's belief on this subject contained in Lucke's Commentary on the First Epistle of John, i. 18-28. To force this figure into a literal meaning is a mistake; for in the preceding chapter it is expressly said that "They that have done good shall come forth unto the resurrection of life; they that have done evil unto the resurrection of condemnation." Both shall rise to be judged; but as we conceive the most probable sense of the phrases the good shall be received to heaven, the bad shall be remanded to the under world. "Has no life in him" of course cannot mean is absolutely dead, annihilated, but means has not faith and virtue, the elements of blessedness, the qualifications for heaven. The particular figurative use of words in these texts may be illustrated by parallel idioms from Philo, who says, "Of the living some are dead; on the contrary, the dead live. For those lost from the life of virtue are dead, though they reach the extreme of old age; while the good, though they are disjoined from the body, live immortally."38 Again he writes, "Deathless life delivers the dying pious; but the dying impious everlasting death seizes."39 And a great many passages plainly show that one element of Philo's meaning, in such phrases as these, is, that he believed that, upon their leaving the body, the souls of the good would ascend to heaven, while the souls of the bad would descend to Hades. These discriminated events he supposed would follow death at once. His thorough Platonism had weaned him from the Persian Pharisaic doctrine of a common intermediate state detaining the dead below until the triumphant advent of a Redeemer should usher in the great resurrection and final judgment.40 John declares salvation to be conditional. "The blood of Christ" that is, his death and what followed "cleanses us from all sin, if we walk in the light as he is in the light;" not otherwise. "He that believeth not the Son shall not see eternal life, but the wrath of God abideth on him." "If any man see his brother commit a sin which is not unto death, he shall pray, and shall receive life for them that sin not unto death. There is a sin unto death: I do not say that he shall pray for it." "Beloved, now are we the sons of God, and it doth not yet appear what we shall be; but we know that when he [Christ] shall appear we shall be like him, for we shall see him as he is. Every man that hath this hope in him purifieth himself, even as he is pure." The heads of the doctrine which seems to underlie these statements are as follow. Christ shall come again. All the dead shall rise for judicial ordeal. Those counted worthy shall be accepted, be transfigured into the resemblance of the glorious Redeemer and enter into eternal blessedness in heaven. The rest shall be doomed to the dark kingdom of death in the under world, to remain there for aught that is hinted to the contrary forever. From these premises two practical inferences are drawn in exhortations. First, we should earnestly strive to fit ourselves for acceptance by moral purity, brotherly love, and pious faith. Secondly, we should seek pardon for our sins by confession and prayer, and take heed lest by aggravated sin we deprave our souls beyond recovery. There are those who sin unto death, for whom it is hopeless to pray. Light, truth, and the divine life of heaven can never receive them; darkness, falsehood, and the deep realm of death irrevocably swallow them. And now we may sum up in a few words the essential results of this whole inquiry into the principles of John's theology, especially as composing and shown in his doctrine of a 38 Vol. i. p. 554. 39 Ibid. p. 233. 40 See vol. i. pp. 139, 416, 417, 555, 643, 648; vol. ii. pp. 178, 433. future life. First, God is personal love, truth, light, holiness, blessedness. These realities, as concentrated in their incomprehensible absoluteness, are the elements of his infinite being. Secondly, these spiritual substances, as diffused through the worlds of the universe and experienced in the souls of moral creatures, are the medium of God's revelation of himself, the direct presence and working of his Logos. Thirdly, the persons who prevailingly partake of these qualities are God's loyal subjects and approved children, in peaceful communion with the Father, through the Son, possessing eternal life. Fourthly, Satan is personal hatred, falsehood, darkness, sin, misery. These realities, in their abstract nature and source, are his being; in their special manifestations they are his efflux and power. Fifthly, the persons who partake rulingly of these qualities are the devil's enslaved subjects and lineal children: in sinful bondage to him, in depraved communion with him, they dwell in a state of hostile banishment and unhappiness, which is moral death. Sixthly, Christ was the Logos who, descending from his anterior glory in heaven, and appearing in mortal flesh, embodied all the Divine qualities in an unflawed model of humanity, gathered up and exhibited all the spiritual characteristics of the Father in a stainless and perfect soul supernaturally filled and illumined, thus to bear into the world a more intelligible and effective revelation of God the Father than nature or common humanity yielded, to shine with regenerating radiance upon the deadly darkness of those who were groping in lying sins, "that they might have life and that they might have it more abundantly." Seventhly, the fickle and perishing experience of unbelieving and wicked men, the vagrant life of sensuality and worldliness, the shallow life in vain and transitory things, gives place in the soul of a Christian to a profoundly earnest, unchanging experience of truth and love, a steady and everlasting life in Divine and everlasting things. Eighthly, the experimental reception of the revealed grace and verity by faith and discipleship in Jesus is accompanied by internal convincing proofs and seals of their genuineness, validity, and immortality. They awaken a new consciousness, a new life, inherently Divine and self warranting. Ninthly, Christ, by his incarnation, death, resurrection, and ascension, was a propitiation for our sins, a mercy seat pledging forgiveness; that is, he was the medium of showing us that mercy of God which annulled the penalty of sin, the descent of souls to the gloomy under world, and opened the celestial domains for the ransomed children of earth to join the sinless angels of heaven. Tenthly, Christ was speedily to make a second advent. In that last day the dead should come forth for judgment, the good be exalted to unfading glory with the Father and the Son, and the bad be left in the lower region of noiseless shadows and dreams. These ten points of view, we believe, command all the principal features of the theological landscape which occupied the mental vision of the writer of the Gospel and epistles bearing the superscription, John. CHAPTER VI. CHRIST'S TEACHINGS CONCERNING THE FUTURE LIFE. IN approaching the teachings of the Savior himself concerning the future fate of man, we should throw off the weight of creeds and prejudices, and, by the aid of all the appliances in our power, endeavor to reach beneath the imagery and unessential particulars of his instructions to learn their bare significance in truth. This is made difficult by the singular perversions his religion has undergone; by the loss of a complete knowledge of the peculiarities of the Messianic age in the lapse of the ages since; by the almost universal change in our associations, modes of feeling and thought, and styles of speech; and by the gradual accretion and hardening of false doctrines and sectarian biases and wilfulness. As we examine the words of Christ to find their real meaning, there are four prominent considerations to be especially weighed and borne in mind. First, we must not forget the poetic Eastern style common to the Jewish prophets; their symbolic enunciations in bold figures of speech: "I am the door;" "I am the bread of life;" "I am the vine;" "My sheep hear my voice;" "If these should hold their peace, the stones would immediately cry out." This daring emblematic language was natural to the Oriental nations; and the Bible is full of it. Is the overthrow of a country foretold? It is not said, "Babylon shall be destroyed," but "The sun shall be darkened at his going forth, the moon shall be as blood, the stars shall fall from heaven, and the earth shall stagger to and fro as a drunken man." If we would truly understand Christ's declarations, we must not overlook the characteristics of figurative language. For "he spake to the multitude in parables, and without a parable spake he not unto them;" and a parable, of course, is not to be taken literally, but holds a latent sense and purpose which are to be sought out. The greatest injustice is done to the teachings of Christ when his words are studied as those of a dry scholastic, a metaphysical moralist, not as those of a profound poet, a master in the spiritual realm. Secondly, we must remember that we have but fragmentary reports of a small part of the teachings of Christ. He was engaged in the active prosecution of his mission probably about three years, at the shortest over one year; while all the different words of his recorded in the New Testament would not occupy more than five hours. Only a little fraction of what he said has been transmitted to us; and though this part may contain the essence of the whole, yet it must naturally in some instances be obscure and difficult of apprehension. We must therefore compare different passages with each other, carefully probe them all, and explain, so far as possible, those whose meaning is recondite by those whose meaning is obvious. Some persons may be surprised to think that we have but a small portion of the sayings of Jesus. The fact, however, is unquestionable. And perhaps there is no more reason that we should have a full report of his words than there is that we should have a complete account of his doings; and the evangelist declares, "There are also many other things which Jesus did, the which, if they should every one be written, I suppose that even the world itself could not contain the books." Thirdly, when examining the instructions of Jesus, we should recollect that he adopted, and applied to himself and to his kingdom, the common Jewish phraseology concerning the Messiah and the events that were expected to attend his advent and reign. But he did not take up these phrases in the perverted sense held in the corrupt opinions and earthly hopes of the Jews: he used them spiritually, in the sense which accorded with the true Messianic dispensation as it was arranged in the forecasting providence of God. No investigation of the New Testament should be unaccompanied by an observance of the fundamental rule of interpretation, namely, that the strident of a book, especially of an ancient, obscure, and fragmentary book, should imbue himself as thoroughly as he can with the knowledge and spirit of the opinions, events, influences, circumstances, of the time when the document was written, and of the persons who wrote it. The inquirer must be equipped for his task by a mastery of the Rabbinism of Gamaliel, at whose feet Paul was brought up; for the Jewish mind of that age was filled, and its religious language directed, by this Rabbinism. Guided by this principle, furnished with the necessary information, in the helpful light of the best results of modern critical scholarship, we shall be able to explain many dark texts, and to satisfy ourselves, at least in a degree, as to the genuine substance of Christ's declarations touching the future destinies of men. Finally, he who studies the New Testament with patient thoroughness and with honest sharpness will arrive at a distinction most important to be made and to be kept in view, namely, a distinction between the real meaning of Christ's words in his own mind and the actual meaning understood in them by his auditors and reporters.1 Here we approach a most delicate and vital point, hitherto too little noticed, but destined yet to become prominent and fruitful. A large number of religious phrases were in common use among the Jews at the time of Jesus. He adopted them, but infused into them a deeper, a correct meaning, as Copernicus did into the old astronomic formulas. But the bystanders who listened to his discourses, hearing the familiar terms, seized the familiar meaning, and erroneously attributed it to him. It is certain that the Savior was often misunderstood and often not understood at all. When he declared himself the Messiah, the people would have made him a king by force! Even the apostles frequently grossly failed to appreciate his spirit and aims, wrenched unwarrantable inferences from his words, and quarrelled for the precedency in his coming kingdom and for seats at his right hand. In numerous cases it is glaringly plain that his ideas were far from their conceptions of them. We have no doubt the same was true in many other instances where it is not so clear. He repeatedly reproves them for folly and slowness because they did not perceive the sense of his instructions. Perhaps there was a slight impatience in his tones when he said, "How is it that ye do not understand that I spake it not to you concerning bread, that ye should beware of the leaven of the Pharisees and of the Sadducees?" Jesus uttered in established phrases new and profoundly spiritual thoughts. The apostles educated in, and full of, as they evidently were, the dogmas, prejudices, and 1 See this distinction affirmed by De Wette, in the preface to his Commentatio de Morte Jesus Christi Expiatoria. See also Thurn, Jesus und seine Apostel in Widerspruch in Ansehung der Lehre von der Ewigcn Verdamnniss. In Scherer's Schriftforsch. sect. i. nr. 4. hopes of their age and land would naturally, to some extent, misapprehend his meaning. Then, after a tumultuous interval, writing out his instructions from memory, how perfectly natural that their own convictions and sentiments would have a powerful influence in modifying and shaping the animus and the verbal expressions in their reports! Under the circumstances, that we should now possess the very equivalents of his words with strict literalness, and conveying his very intentions perfectly translated from the Aramaan into the Greek tongue, would imply the most sustained and amazing of all miracles. There is nothing whatever that indicates any such miraculous intervention. There is nothing to discredit the fair presumption that the writers were left to their own abilities, under the inspiration of an earnest consecrating love and truthfulness. And we must, with due limitations, distinguish between the original words and conscious meaning of the sublime Master, illustrated by the emphasis and discrimination of his looks, tones, and gestures, and the apprehended meaning recorded long afterwards, shaped and colored by passing through the minds and pens of the sometimes dissentient and always imperfect disciples. He once declared to them, "I have many things to say unto you, but ye are not able to bear them." Admitting his infallibility, as we may, yet asserting their fallibility, as we must, and accompanied, too, as his words now are by many very obscuring circumstances, it is extremely difficult to lay the hand on discriminated texts and say, "[non ASCII characters]" The Messianic doctrine prevalent among the Jews in the time of Jesus appears to have been built up little by little, by religious faith, national pride, and priestly desire, out of literal interpretations of figurative prophecy, and Cabalistic interpretations of plain language, and Rabbinical traditions and speculations, additionally corrupted in some particulars by intercourse with the Persians. Under all this was a central spiritual germ of a Divine promise and plan. A Messiah was really to come. It was in answering the questions, what kind of a king he was to be, and over what sort of a kingdom he was to reign, that the errors crept in. The Messianic conceptions which have come down to us through the Prophets, the Targums, incidental allusions in the New Testament, the Talmud, and the few other traditions and records yet in existence, are very diverse and sometimes contradictory. They agreed in ardently looking for an earthly sovereign in the Messiah, one who would rise up in the line of David and by the power of Jehovah deliver his people, punish their enemies, subdue the world to his sceptre, and reign with Divine auspices of beneficence and splendor. They also expected that then a portion of the dead would rise from the under world and assume their bodies again, to participate in the triumphs and blessings of his earthly kingdom. His personal reign in Judea was what they usually meant by the phrases "the kingdom of heaven," "the kingdom of God." The apostles cherished these ideas, and expressed them in the terms common to their countrymen. But we cannot doubt that Jesus employed this and kindred language in a purer and deeper sense, which we must take pains to distinguish from the early and lingering errors associated with it. Upon the threshold of our subject we meet with predictions of a second coming of Christ from heaven, with power and glory, to sit on his throne and judge the world. The portentous imagery in which these prophecies are clothed is taken from the old prophets; and to them we must turn to learn its usage and force. The Hebrews called any signal manifestation of power especially any dreadful calamity a coming of the Lord. It was a coming of Jehovah when his vengeance strewed the ground with the corpses of Sennacherib's host; when its storm swept Jerusalem as with fire, and bore Israel into bondage; when its sword came down upon Idumea and was bathed in blood upon Edom. "The day of the Lord" is another term of precisely similar import. It occurs in the Old Testament about fifteen times. In every instance it means some mighty manifestation of God's power in calamity. These occasions are pictured forth with the most astounding figures of speech. Isaiah describes the approaching destruction of Babylon in these terms: "The stars of heaven and the constellations thereof shall give no light; the sun shall be darkened, the moon shall not shine, the heavens shall shake, and the earth shall remove out of her place and be as a frightened sheep that no man taketh up." The Jews expected that the coming of the Messiah would be preceded by many fearful woes, in the midst of which he would appear with peerless pomp and might. The day of his coming they named emphatically the day of the Lord. Jesus actually appeared, not, as they expected, a warrior travelling in the greatness of his strength, with dyed garments from Bozrah, staining his raiment with blood as he trampled in the wine vat of vengeance, but the true Messiah, God's foreordained and anointed Son, despised and rejected of men, bringing good tidings, publishing peace. It must have been impossible for the Jews to receive such a Messiah without explanations. Those few who became converts apprehended his Messianic language, at least to some extent, in the sense which previously occupied their minds. He knew that often he was not understood; and he frequently said to his followers, "Who hath ears to hear, let him hear." His disciples once asked him, "What shall be the sign of thy coming, and of the end of the world?" He replied, substantially, "There shall be wars, famines, and unheard of trials; and immediately after the sun shall be darkened, the moon shall not give her light, the stars shall fall from heaven, and the powers of the heavens shall be shaken. Then shall they see the Son of Man coming in the clouds of heaven with great power. And he shall sit upon the throne of his glory, and all nations shall be gathered before him, and he shall separate them one from another." That this language was understood by the evangelists and the early Christians, in accordance with their Pharisaic notions, as teaching literally a physical reappearance of Christ on the earth, a resurrection, and a general judgment, we fully believe. Those ideas were prevalent at the time, are expressed in scores of places in the New Testament, and are the direct strong assertion of the words themselves. But that such was the meaning of Christ himself we much more than doubt. In the first place, in his own language in regard to his second coming there is not the least hint of a resurrection of the dead: the scene is confined to the living, and to the earth. Secondly, the figures which he employs in this connection are the same as those used by the Jewish prophets to denote great and signal events on the earth, and may be so taken here without violence to the idiom. Thirdly, he expressly fixed the date of the events he referred to within that generation; and if, therefore, he spoke literally, he was grossly in error, and his prophecies failed of fulfilment, a conclusion which we cannot adopt. To suppose that he partook in the false, mechanical dogmas of the carnal Jews would be equally irreconcilable with the common idea of his Divine inspiration, and with the profound penetration and spirituality of his own mind. He certainly used much of the phraseology of his contemporary countrymen, metaphorically, to convey his own purer thoughts. We have no doubt he did so in regard to the descriptions of his second coming. Let us state in a form of paraphrase what his real instructions on this point seem to us to have been: "You cannot believe that I am the Messiah, because I do not deliver you from your oppressors and trample on the Gentiles. Your minds are clouded with errors. The Father hath sent me to found the kingdom of peace and righteousness, and hath given me all power to reward and punish. By my word shall the nations of the earth be honored and blessed, or be overwhelmed with fire; and every man must stand before my judgment seat. The end of the world is at the doors. The Mosaic dispensation is about to be closed in the fearful tribulations of the day of the Lord, and my dispensation to be set up. When you see Jerusalem encompassed with armies, know that the day is at hand, and flee to the mountains; for not one stone shall be left upon another. Then the power of God will be shown on my behalf, and the sign of the Son of Man be seen in heaven. My truths shall prevail, and shall be owned as the criteria of Divine judgment. According to them, all the righteous shall be distinguished as my subjects, and all the iniquitous shall be separated from my kingdom. Some of those standing here shall not taste death till all these things be fulfilled. Then it will be seen that I am the Messiah, and that through the eternal principles of truth which I have proclaimed I shall sit upon a throne of glory, not literally, in person, as you thought, blessing the Jews and cursing the Gentiles, but spiritually, in the truth, dispensing joy to good men and woe to bad men, according to their deserts." Such we believe to be the meaning of Christ's own predictions of his second coming. He figuratively identifies himself with his religion according to that idiom by which it is written, "Moses hath in every city them that read him, being read in the synagogues every Sabbath day." His figure of himself as the universal judge is a bold personification; for he elsewhere says, "He that believeth in me believeth not in me, but in Him that sent me." And again, "He that rejecteth me, I judge him not: the word that I have spoken, that shall judge him." His coming in the clouds of heaven with great power and glory was when, at the destruction of Jerusalem, the old age closed and the new began, the obstacles to his religion were removed and his throne established on the earth.2 The apostles undoubtedly understood the doctrine differently; but that such was his own thought we conclude, because he did sometimes undeniably use figurative language in that way, and because the other meaning is an error, not in harmony either with his character, his mind, or his mission. This interpretation is so important that it may need to be illustrated and confirmed by further instances: "When the Son of Man sits on the throne of his glory, and all nations are gathered before him, his angels shall sever the wicked from among the just, and shall cast them into a furnace of fire: there shall be weeping and gnashing of teeth." A few such picturesque phrases have led to the general belief in a great world judgment at the end of the 2 Norton, Statement of Reasons, Appendix. appointed time, after which the condemned are to be thrown into the tortures of an unquenchable world of flame. How arbitrary and violent a conclusion this is, how unwarranted and gross a perversion of the language of Christ it is, we may easily see. The fact that the old prophets often described fearful misfortunes and woes in images of clouds and flame and falling stars, and other portentous symbols, and that this style was therefore familiar to the Jews, would make it very natural for Jesus, in foretelling such an event as the coming destruction of Jerusalem, in conflagration and massacre, with the irretrievable subversion of the old dispensation, to picture it forth in a similar way. Fire was to the Jews a common emblem of calamity and devastation; and judgments incomparably less momentous than those gathered about the fall of Jerusalem and the dispersion of the self boasted favorites of Jehovah were often described by the prophets in appalling images of darkened planets, shaking heavens, clouds, fire, and blackness. Joel, speaking of a "day of the Lord," when there should be famine and drought, and a horrid army of destroying insects, "before whom a fire devoureth, and behind them a flame burneth," draws the scene in these terrific colors: "The earth shall quake before them; the sun and moon shall be dark, and the stars shall withdraw their shining; and the Lord shall utter his voice before his terrible army of locusts, caterpillars, and destroying worms:" Ezekiel represents God as saying, "The house of Israel is to me become dross: therefore I will gather you into the midst of Jerusalem: as they gather silver, brass, iron, tin, and lead into the midst of the furnace to blow the fire upon it, so will I gather you, and blow upon you in the fire of my wrath, and ye shall be melted in the midst thereof." We read in Isaiah, "The Assyrian shall flee, and his princes shall be afraid, saith the Lord, whose fire is in Zion and his furnace in Jerusalem." Malachi also says, "The day cometh that shall burn as a furnace, and all that do wickedly shall be stubble, and shall be burned up root and branch. They shall be trodden as ashes beneath the feet of the righteous." The meaning of these passages, and of many other similar ones, is, in every instance, some severe temporal calamity, some dire example of Jehovah's retributions among the nations of the earth. Their authors never dreamed of teaching that there is a place of fire beyond the grave in which the wicked dead shall be tormented, or that the natural creation is finally to be devoured by flame. It is perfectly certain that not a single text in the Old Testament was meant to teach any such doctrine as that. The judgments shadowed forth in kindred metaphors by Christ are to be understood in the light of this fact. Their meaning is, that all unjust, cruel, false, impure men shall endure severe punishments. This general thought is fearfully distinct; but every thing beyond all details are left in utter obscurity. In the august scene of the King in judgment, when the sentence has been pronounced on those at the left hand, "Depart from me, ye cursed, into everlasting fire prepared for the devil and his angels," it is written, "and they shall go away into everlasting punishment." It is obvious to remark that the imagery of a fiery prison built for Satan and the fallen angels, and into which the bad shall be finally doomed, is poetical language, or language of accommodation to the current notions of the time. These startling Oriental figures are used to wrap and convey the assertion that the wicked shall be severely punished according to their deserts. No literal reference seems to be made either to the particular time, to the special place, or to the distinctive character, of the punishment; but the mere fact is stated in a manner to fill the conscience with awe and to stamp the practical lesson vividly on the memory. But admitting the clauses apparently descriptive of the nature of this retribution to be metaphorical, yet what shall we think of its duration? Is it absolutely unending? There is nothing in the record to enable a candid inquirer to answer that question decisively. So far as the letter of Scripture is concerned, there are no data to give an indubitable solution to the problem. It is true the word "everlasting" is repeated; but, when impartially weighed, it seems a sudden rhetorical expression, of indefinite force, used to heighten the impressiveness of a sublime dramatic representation, rather than a cautious philosophical term employed to convey an abstract conception. There is no reason whatever for supposing that Christ's mind was particularly directed to the metaphysical idea of endlessness, or to the much more metaphysical idea of timelessness. The presumptive evidence is that he spoke popularly. Had he been charged to reveal a doctrine so tremendous, so awful, so unutterably momentous in its practical relations, as that of the endless close of all probation at death, is it conceivable that he would merely have couched it in a few figurative expressions and left it as a matter of obscure inference and uncertainty? No: in that case, he would have iterated and reiterated it, defined, guarded, illustrated it, and have left no possibility of honest mistake or doubt of it. The Greek word [non-ASCII characters], and the same is true of the corresponding Hebrew word, translated "everlasting" in the English Bible, has not in its popular usage the rigid force of eternal duration, but varies, is now applied to objects as evanescent as man's earthly life, now to objects as lasting as eternity.3 Its power in any given case is to be sought from the context and the reason of the thing. Isaiah, having threatened the unrighteous nations that they "should conceive chaff and bring forth stubble, that their own breath should be fire to devour them, and that they should be burnt like lime, like thorns cut up in the fire," makes the terror smitten sinners and hypocrites cry, "Who among us can dwell in devouring fire? Who among us can dwell in everlasting burnings?" Yet his reference is solely to an outward, temporal judgment in this world. The Greek adjective rendered "everlasting" is etymologically, and by universal usage, a term of duration, but indefinite, its extent of meaning depending on the subjects of which it is predicated. Therefore, when Christ connects this word with the punishment of the wicked, it is impossible to say with any certainty, judging from the language itself, whether he implies that those who die in their sins are hopelessly lost, perfectly irredeemable forever, or not, though the probabilities are very strongly in the latter direction. "Everlasting punishment" may mean, in philosophical strictness, a punishment absolutely eternal, or may be a popular expression denoting, with general indefiniteness, a very long duration. Since in all Greek literature, sacred and profane, [non-ASCII characters] is applied to things that end, ten times as often as it is to things immortal, no fair critic can assert positively that when it is connected with future punishment it has the stringent meaning of metaphysical endlessness. On the other hand, no one has any critical 3 See Christian Examiner for March, 1854, pp. 280-297. right to say positively that in such cases it has not that meaning. The Master has not explained his words on this point, but has left them veiled. We can settle the question itself concerning the limitedness or the unlimitedness of future punishment only on other grounds than those of textual criticism, even on grounds of enlightened reason postulating the cardinal principles of Christianity and of ethics. Will not the unimpeded Spirit of Christ lead all free minds and loving hearts to one conclusion? But that conclusion is to be held modestly as a trusted inference, not dogmatically as a received revelation. Another point in the Savior's teachings which it is of the utmost importance to understand is the sense in which he used the Jewish phrases "Resurrection of the Dead" and "Resurrection at the Last Day." The Pharisees looked for a restoration of the righteous from their graves to a bodily life. This event they supposed would take place at the appearance of the Messiah; and the time of his coming they called "the last day." So the Apostle John says, "Already are there many antichrists; whereby we know that it is the last time." Now, Jesus claimed to be the Messiah, clothed in his functions, though he interpreted those functions as carrying an interior and moral, not an outward and physical, force. "This is the will of Him that sent me, that every one which seeth the Son and believeth on him should have everlasting life; and I will raise him up at the last day." Again, when Martha told Jesus that "she knew her brother Lazarus would rise again in the resurrection at the last day," he replied, "I am the resurrection and the life: he that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live; and whosoever liveth and believeth in me shall never die." This utterance is surely metaphorical; for belief in Jesus does not prevent physical dissolution. The thoughts contained in the various passages belonging to this subject, when drawn out, compared, and stated in general terms, seem to us to be as follows: "You suppose that in the last day your Messiah will restore the dead to live again upon the earth. I am the Messiah, and the last days have therefore arrived. I am commissioned by the Father to bestow eternal life upon all who believe on me; but not in the manner you have anticipated. The true resurrection is not calling the body from the tomb, but opening the fountains of eternal life in the soul. I am come to open the spiritual world to your faith. He that believeth in me and keepeth my commandments has passed from death unto life, become conscious that though seemingly he passes into the grave, yet really he shall live with God forever. The true resurrection is, to come into the experience of the truth that 'God is not the God of the dead, but of the living; for all live unto him.' Over the soul that is filled with such an experience, death has no power. Verily, I say unto, you, the hour is coming, and now is, when the dead, the ignorant and guilty, buried in trespasses and sins, shall hear these truths declared, and they that believe shall lay hold of the life thus offered and be blessed. The Father hath given me authority to execute judgment, that is, to lay down the principles by which men shall be judged according to their deserts. All mankind shall be judged in the spiritual state by the spirit and precepts of my religion as veritably as if in their graves the generations of the dead heard my voice and came forth, the good to blessedness, the evil to misery. The judgment which is, as it were, committed unto me, is not really committed unto me, but unto the truth which I declare; for of mine own self I can do nothing." We believe this paraphrase expresses the essential meaning of Christ's own declarations concerning a resurrection and an associated judgment. Coming to bring from the Father authenticated tidings of immortality, and to reveal the laws of the Divine judgment, he declared that those who believed and kept his words were delivered from the terror of death, and, knowing that an endless life of blessedness was awaiting them, immediately entered upon its experience. He did not teach the doctrine of a bodily restoration, but said, "In the resurrection," that is, in the spiritual state succeeding death, "they neither marry nor are given in marriage, but are as the angels of heaven." He did not teach the doctrine of a temporary sleep in the grave, but said to the penitent thief on the cross, "This day shalt thou be with me in Paradise:" instantly upon leaving the body their souls would be together in the state of the blessed. It is often said that the words of Jesus in relation to the dead hearing his voice and coming forth must be taken literally; for the metaphor is of too extreme violence. But it is in keeping with his usage. He says, "Let the dead bury their dead." It is far less bold than "This is my body; this is my blood." It is not nearly so strong as Paul's adjuration, "Awake, thou that sleepest, and rise from the dead, and Christ shall give thee light." It is not more daringly imaginative than the assertion that "the heroes sleeping in Marathon's gory bed stirred in their graves when Leonidas fought at Thermopyla; or than Christ's own words, "If thou hadst faith like a grain of mustard seed, thou couldst say to this mountain, Be thou cast into yonder sea, and it should obey you." So one might say, "Where'er the gospel comes, It spreads diviner light; It calls dead sinners from their tombs And gives the blind their sight." And in the latter days, when it has done its work, and the glorious measure of human redemption is full, liberty, intelligence, and love shall stand hand in hand on the mountain summits and raise up the long generations of the dead to behold the completed fruits of their toils. In this figurative moral sense Jesus probably spoke when he said, "Thou shalt be recompensed at the resurrection of the just." He referred simply to the rewards of the virtuous in the state beyond the grave. The phraseology in which he clothed the thought he accommodatingly adopted from the current speech of the Pharisees. They unquestionably meant by it the group of notions contained in their dogma of the destined physical restoration of the dead from their sepulchres at the advent of the Messiah. And it seems perfectly plain to us, on an impartial study of the record, that the evangelist, in reporting his words, took the Pharisaic dogma, and not merely the Christian truth, with them. But that Jesus himself modified and spiritualized the meaning of the phrase when he employed it, even as he did the other contemporaneous language descriptive of the Messianic offices and times, we conclude for two reasons. First, he certainly did often use language in that spiritual way, dressing in bold metaphors moral thoughts of inspired insight and truth. Secondly, the moral doctrine is the only one that is true, or that is in keeping with his penetrative thought. The notion of a physical resurrection is an error borrowed most likely from the Persians by the Pharisees, and not belonging to the essential elements of Christianity. The notion being prevalent at the time in Judea, and being usually expressed in certain appropriated phrases, when Christ used those phrases in a true spiritual sense the apostles would naturally apprehend from them the carnal meaning which already filled their minds in common with the minds of their countrymen. The word Hades, translated in the English New Testament by the word "hell," a word of nearly the same etymological force, but now conveying a quite different meaning, occurs in the discourses of Jesus only three several times. The other instances of its use are repetitions or parallels. First, "And thou, Capernaum, which art exalted to heaven, shalt be brought down to the under world;" that is, the great and proud city shall become powerless, a heap of ruins. Second, "Upon this rock I will found my Church, and the gates of the under world shall not prevail against it;" that is, the powers of darkness, the opposition of the wicked, the strength of evil, shall not destroy my religion; in spite of them it shall assert its organization and overcome all obstacles. The remaining example of the Savior's use of this word is in the parable of Dives and Lazarus. The rich man is described, after death, as suffering in the under world. Seeing the beggar afar off in Abraham's bosom, he cries, "Father Abraham, pity me, and send Lazarus, that he may dip the tip of his finger in water and cool my tongue; for I am tormented in this flame." Well known fancies and opinions are here wrought up in scenic form to convey certain moral impressions. It will be noticed that the implied division of the under world into two parts, with a gulf between them, corresponds to the common Gentile notion of an Elysian region of delightful meadows for the good and a Tartarean region of blackness and fire for the bad, both included in one subterranean kingdom, but divided by an interval. 4 The dramatic details of the account Lazarus being borne into bliss by angels, Dives asking to have a messenger sent from bale to warn his surviving brothers rest on opinions afloat among the Jews of that age, derived from the Persian theology. Zoroaster prays, "When I shall die, let Aban and Bahman carry me to the bosom of joy."5 And it was a common belief among the Persians that souls were at seasons permitted to leave purgatory and visit their relatives on earth.6 It is evident that the narrative before us is not a history to be literally construed, but a parable to be carefully analyzed. The imagery and the particulars are to be laid aside, and the central thoughts to be drawn forth. Take the words literally, that the rich man's immaterial soul, writhing in flames, wished the tip of a finger dipped in water to cool his tongue, and they are ridiculous. Take them figuratively, as a type of unknown spiritual anguish, and they are awful. Besides, had Christ intended to teach the doctrine of a local burning hell, he surely would have enunciated it in plain words, with solemn iteration and explanatory amplifications, instead of merely insinuating it incidentally, in metaphorical 4 See copious illustrations by Rosenmuller, in Luc. cap. xvi. 22, 23. "Hic locus est partes ubi se via findit in ambas: Dextera, qua Ditis magni sub moenia tendit; Hac iter Elysium nobis: at lava malorum Exercet poenas, et ad impia Tartara mittit." 5 Rhode, Heilige Sage des Zendvolks, s. 408. 6 Ibid. s. 410. terms, in a professed parable. The sense of the parable is, that the formal distinctions of this world will have no influence in the allotments of the future state, but will often be reversed there; that a righteous Providence, knowing every thing here, rules hereafter, and will dispense compensating justice to all; that men should not wait for a herald to rise from the dead to warn them, but should heed the instructions they already have, and so live in the life that now is, as to avoid a miserable condemnation, and secure a blessed acceptance, in the life that is to come. By inculcating these truths in a striking manner, through the aid of a parable based on the familiar poetical conceptions of the future world and its scenery, Christ no more endorses those conceptions than by using the Messianic phrases of the Jews he approves the false carnal views which they joined with that language. To interpret the parable literally, then, and suppose it meant to teach the actual existence of a located hell of fire for sinners after death, is to disregard the proprieties of criticism. "Gehenna," or the equivalent phrase, "Gehenna of fire," unfortunately translated into our tongue by the word "hell," is to be found in the teachings of Christ in only five independent instances, each of which, after tracing the original Jewish usage of the term, we will briefly examine. Gehenna, or the Vale of Hinnom, is derived from two Hebrew words, the first meaning a vale, the second being the name of its owner. The place thus called was the eastern part of the beautiful valley that forms the southern boundary of Jerusalem. Here Moloch, the horrid idol god worshipped by the Ammonites, and by the Israelites during their idolatrous lapses, was set up. This monstrous idol had the head of an ox and the body of a man. It was hollow; and, being filled with fire, children were laid in its arms and devoured alive by the heat. This explains the terrific denunciations uttered by the prophets against those who made their children pass through the fire to Moloch. The spot was sometimes entitled Tophet, a place of abhorrence; its name being derived, as some think, from a word meaning to vomit with loathing, or, as others suppose, from a word signifying drum, because drums were beaten to drown the shrieks of the burning children. After these horrible rites were abolished by Josiah, the place became an utter abomination. All filth, the offal of the city, the carcasses of beasts, the bodies of executed criminals, were cast indiscriminately into Gehenna. Fires were kept constantly burning to prevent the infection of the atmosphere from the putrifying mass. Worms were to be seen preying on the relics. The primary meaning, then, of Gehenna, is a valley outside of Jerusalem, a place of corruption and fire, only to be thought of with execration and shuddering. Now, it was not only in keeping with Oriental rhetoric, but also natural in itself, that figures of speech should be taken from these obvious and dreadful facts to symbolize any dire evil. For example, how naturally might a Jew, speaking of some foul wretch, and standing, perhaps, within sight of the place, exclaim, "He deserves to be hurled into the fires of Gehenna!" So the term would gradually become an accepted emblem of abominable punishment. Such was the fact; and this gives a perspicuous meaning to the word without supposing it to imply a fiery prison house of anguish in the future world. Isaiah threatens the King of Assyria with ruin in these terms: "Tophet is ordained of old, and prepared for the king: it is made deep and large; the pile thereof is fire and much wood; the breath of Jehovah, like a stream of brimstone, doth kindle it." The prophet thus portrays, with the dread imagery of Gehenna, approaching disaster and overthrow. A thorough study of the Old Testament shows that the Jews, during the period which it covers, did not believe in future rewards and punishments, but expected that all souls without discrimination would pass their shadowy dream lives in the silence of Sheol. Between the termination of the Old Testament history and the commencement of the New, various forms of the doctrine of future retribution had been introduced or developed among the Jews. But during this period few, if any, decisive instances can be found in which the image of penal fire is connected with the future state. On the contrary, "darkness," "gloom," "blackness," "profound and perpetual night," are the terms employed to characterize the abode and fate of the wicked. Josephus says that, in the faith of the Pharisees, "the worst criminals were banished to the darkest part of the under world." Philo represents the depraved and condemned as "groping in the lowest and darkest part of the creation. The word Gehenna is rarely found in the literature of this time, and when it is it commonly seems to be used either simply to denote the detestable Vale of Hinnom, or else plainly as a general symbol of calamity and horror, as in the elder prophets. But in some of the Targums, or Chaldee paraphrases of the Hebrew Scriptures, especially in the Targum of Jonathan ben Uzziel, we meet repeated applications of the word Gehenna to signify a punishment by fire in the future state.7 This is a fact about which there can be no question. And to the documents showing such a usage of the word, the best scholars are pretty well agreed in assigning a date as early as the days of Christ. The evidence afforded by these Targums, together with the marked application of the term by Jesus himself, and the similar general use of it immediately after both by Christians and Jews, render it not improbable that Gehenna was known to the contemporaries of the Savior as the metaphorical name of hell, a region of fire, in the under world, where the reprobate were supposed to be punished after death. But admitting that, before Christ began to teach, the Jews had modified their early conception of the under world as the silent and sombre abode of all the dead in common, and had divided it into two parts, one where the wicked suffer, called Gehenna, one where the righteous rest, called Paradise, still, that modification having been borrowed, as is historically evident, from the Gentiles, or, if developed among themselves, at all events unconnected with revelation, of course Christianity is not involved with the truth or falsity of it, is not responsible for it. It does not necessarily follow that Jesus gave precisely the same meaning to the word Gehenna that his contemporaries or successors did. He may have used it in a modified emblematic sense, as he did many other current terms. In studying his language, we should especially free our minds both from the tyranny of pre Christian notions and dogmas and from the associations and influences of modern creeds, and seek to interpret it in the light of his own instructions and in the spirit of his own mind. We will now examine the cases in which Christ uses the term Gehenna, and ask what it means. First: "Whosoever shall say to his brother, Thou vile wretch! shall be in danger of the fiery Gehenna." Interpret this literally, and it teaches that whosoever calls his brother a 7 Gesenius, Hebrew Thesaurus, Ge Hinnom. wicked apostate is in danger of being thrown into the filthy flames in the Vale of Hinnom. But no one supposes that such was its meaning. Jesus would say, as we understand him, "I am not come to destroy, but to fulfil, the law; to show how at the culmination of the old dispensation a higher and stricter one opens. I say unto you, that, unless your righteousness exceeds that of the Pharisees, you cannot enter the kingdom of heaven. The conditions of acceptance under the new order are far more profound and difficult than under the old. That said, Whosoever commits murder shall be exposed to legal punishment from the public tribunal. This says, An invisible inward punishment, as much to be dreaded as the judgments of the Sanhedrim, shall be inflicted upon those who harbor the secret passions that lead to crime; whosoever, out of an angry heart, insults his brother, shall be exposed to spiritual retributions typified by the horrors of yon flaming valley. They of old time took cognizance of outward crimes by outward penalties. I take cognizance of inward sins by inward returns more sure and more fearful." Second: "If thy right eye be a source of temptation to thee, pluck it out and fling it away; for it is better for thee that one of thy members perish than that thy whole body should be cast into Gehenna." Give these words a literal interpretation, and they mean, "If your eyes or your hands are the occasions of crime, if they tempt you to commit offences which will expose you to public execution, to the ignominy and torture heaped upon felons put to a shameful death and then flung among the burning filth of Gehenna, pluck them out, cut them off betimes, and save yourself from such a frightful end; for it is better to live even thus maimed than, having a whole body, to be put to a violent death." No one can suppose that Jesus meant to convey such an idea as that when he uttered these words. We must, then, attribute a deeper, an exclusively moral, significance to the passage. It means, "If you have some bosom sin, to deny and root out which is like tearing out an eye or cutting off a hand, pause not, but overcome and destroy it immediately, at whatever cost of effort and suffering; for it is better to endure the pain of fighting and smothering a bad passion than to submit to it and allow it to rule until it acquires complete control over you, pervades your whole nature with its miserable unrest, and brings you at last into a state of woe of which Gehenna and its dreadful associations are a fit emblem." A verse spoken, according to Mark, in immediate connection with the present passage, confirms the figurative sense we have attributed to it: "Whosoever shall cause one of these little ones that believe in me to fall, it were better for him that a millstone were hanged around his neck and he were plunged into the midst of the sea;" that is, in literal terms, a man had better meet a great calamity, even the loss of life, than commit a foul crime and thus bring the woe of guilt upon his soul. The phrase, "their worm dieth not, and their fire is not quenched," is a part of the imagery naturally suggested by the scene in the Valley of Hinnom, and was used to give greater vividness and force to the moral impression of the discourse. By an interpretation resulting either from prejudice or ignorance, it is generally held to teach the doctrine of literal fire torments enduring forever. It is a direct quotation from a passage in Isaiah which signifies that, in a glorious age to come, Jehovah will cause his worshippers to go forth from new moon to new moon and look upon the carcasses of the wicked, and see them devoured by fire which shall not be quenched and gnawed by worms which shall not die, until the last relics of them are destroyed. Third: "Fear not them that kill the body but are not able to kill the soul; but rather fear Him who is able to destroy both soul and body in Gehenna." A similar use of figurative language, in a still bolder manner, is found in Isaiah. Intending to say nothing more than that Assyria should be overthrown and crushed, the prophet bursts out, "Under the glory of the King of Assyria Jehovah shall kindle a burning like the burning of a fire; and it shall burn and devour his thorns and his briers in one day, and shall consume the glory of his forest and of his fruitful field, both soul and body." Reading the whole passage in Matthew with a single eye, its meaning will be apparent. We may paraphrase it thus. Jesus says to his disciples, "You are now going forth to preach the gospel. My religion and its destinies are intrusted to your hands. As you go from place to place, be on your guard; for they will persecute you, and scourge you, and deliver you up to death. But fear them not. It is enough for the disciple that he be as his master; and if they have done so unto me, how much more shall they unto you! Do not, through fear of hostile men, who can only kill your bodies and are not able in any wise to injure your souls, shrink from danger and prove recreant to the momentous duties imposed upon you; but be inspired to proclaim the principles of the heavenly kingdom with earnestness and courage, in the face of all perils, by fearing God, him who is able to plunge both your souls and your bodies in abomination and agony, him who, if you prove unfaithful and become slothful servants or wicked traitors, will leave your bodies to a violent death and after that your souls to bitter shame and anguish. Fear not the temporal, physical power of your enemies, to be turned from your work by it; but rather fear the eternal, spiritual power of your God, to be made faithful by it." Fourth: "Woe unto you, Scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! for ye compass sea and land to make one proselyte; and, when he is made, ye make him twofold more a child of Gehenna than yourselves." That is, "Ye make him twice as bad as yourselves in hypocrisy, bigotry, extortion, impurity, and malice, a subject of double guilt and of double retribution." Finally, Jesus exclaims to the children of those who killed the prophets, "Serpents, brood of vipers! how can ye escape the condemnation of Gehenna?" That is to say, "Venomous creatures, bad men! you deserve the fate of the worst criminals; you are worthy of the polluted fires of Gehenna; your vices will surely be followed by condign punishment: how can such depravity escape the severest retributions?" These five are all the distinct instances in which Jesus uses the word Gehenna. It is plain that he always uses the word metaphorically. We therefore conclude that Christianity, correctly understood, never implies that eternal fire awaits sinners in the future world, but that moral retributions, according to their deeds, are the portion of all men here and hereafter. There is no more reason to suppose that essential Christianity contains the doctrine of a fiery infernal world than there is to suppose that it really means to declare that God is a glowing mass of flame, when it says, "Our God is a consuming fire." We must remember the metaphorical character of much scriptural language. Wickedness is a fire, in that it preys upon men and draws down the displeasure of the Almighty, and consumes them. As Isaiah writes, "Wickedness burneth as the fire, the anger of Jehovah darkens the land, and the people shall be the food of the fire." And James declares to proud extortioners, "The rust of your cankered gold and silver shall eat your flesh as it were fire." When Jesus says, "It shall be more tolerable for Sodom and Gomorrah in the day of judgment than for that city" which will not listen to the preaching of my kingdom, but drives my disciples away, he uses a familiar figure to signify that Sodom and Gomorrah would at such a call have repented in sackcloth and ashes. The guilt of Chorazin and Bethsaida was, therefore, more hardened than theirs, and should receive a severer punishment; or, making allowance for the natural exaggeration of this kind of language, he means, That city whose iniquities and scornful unbelief lead it to reject my kingdom when it is proffered shall be brought to judgment and be overwhelmed with avenging calamities. Two parallel illustrations of this image are given us by the old prophets. Isaiah says, "Babylon shall be as when God overthrew Sodom and Gomorrah." And Jeremiah complains, "The punishment of Jerusalem is greater than the punishment of Sodom." It is certainly remarkable that such passages should ever have been thought to teach the doctrine of a final, universal judgment day breaking on the world in fire. The subject of our Lord's teachings in regard to the punishment of the wicked is included in two classes of texts, and may be summed up in a few words. One class of texts relate to the visible establishment of Christianity as the true religion, the Divine law, at the destruction of the Jewish power, and to the frightful woes which should then fall upon the murderers of Christ, the bitter enemies of his cause. All these things were to come upon that generation, were to happen before some of them then standing there tasted death. The other class of texts and they are by far the more numerous signify that the kingdom of Truth is now revealed and set up; that all men are bound to accept and obey it with reverence and love, and thus become its blessed subjects, the happy and immortal children of God; that those who spurn its offers, break its laws, and violate its pure spirit shall be punished, inevitably and fearfully, by moral retributions proportioned to the degrees of their guilt. Christ does not teach that the good are immortal and that the bad shall be annihilated, but that all alike, both the just and the unjust, enter the spiritual world. He does not teach that the bad shall be eternally miserable, cut off from all possibility of amendment, but simply that they shall be justly judged. He makes no definitive reference to duration, but leaves us at liberty, peering into the gloom as best we can, to suppose, if we think it most reasonable, that the conditions of our spiritual nature are the same in the future as now, and therefore that the wicked may go on in evil hereafter, or, if they will, all turn to righteousness, and the universe finally become as one sea of holiness and as one flood of praise. Another portion of Christ's doctrine of the future life hinges on the phrase "the kingdom of heaven." Much is implied in this term and its accompaniments, and may be drawn out by answering the questions, What is heaven? Who are citizens of, and who are aliens from, the kingdom of God? Let us first examine the subordinate meanings and shades of meaning with which the Savior sometimes uses these phrases. "Ye shall see heaven open and the angels of God ascending and descending upon the Son of Man." No confirmation of the literal sense of this that is afforded by any incident found in the Gospels. There is every reason for supposing that he meant by it, "There shall be open manifestations of supernatural power and favor bestowed upon me by God, evident signs of direct communications between us." His Divine works and instructions justified the statement. The word "heaven" as here used, then, does not mean any particular place, but means the approving presence of God. The instincts and natural language of man prompt us to consider objects of reverence as above us. We kneel below them. The splendor, mystery, infinity, of the starry regions help on the delusion. But surely no one possessing clear spiritual perceptions will think the literal facts in the case must correspond to this, that God must dwell in a place overhead called heaven. He is an Omnipresence. "Blessed are ye when men shall revile you and persecute you for my sake: rejoice, for great is your reward in heaven." This passage probably means, "In the midst of tribulation be exceeding glad; because you shall be abundantly rewarded in a future state for all your present sufferings in my cause." In that case, heaven signifies the spiritual world, and does not involve reference to any precisely located spot. Or it may mean, "Be not disheartened by insults and persecutions met in the cause of God; for you shall be greatly blessed in your inward life: the approval of conscience, the immortal love and pity of God, shall be yours: the more you are hated and abused by men unjustly, the closer and sweeter shall be your communion with God." In that case, heaven signifies fellowship with the Father, and is independent of any particular time or place. "Our Father, who art in heaven." Jesus was not the author of this sentence. It was a part of the Rabbinical synagogue service, and was based upon the Hebrew conception of God as having his abode in an especial sense over the firmament. The Savior uses it as the language of accommodation, as is evident from his conversation with the woman of Samaria; for he told her that no exclusive spot was an acceptable place of worship, since "God is a Spirit; and they that worship him must worship him in spirit and in truth." No one who comprehends the meaning of the words can suppose that the Infinite Spirit occupies a confined local habitation, and that men must literally journey there to be with him after death. Wherever they may be now, they are away from him or with him, according to their characters. After death they are more banished from him or more immediately with him, instantly, wherever they are, according to the spirit they are of. "Lay not up for yourselves treasures on earth, but in heaven." In other words, Be not absorbed in efforts to accumulate hoards of gold and silver, and to get houses and lands, which will soon pass away; but rather labor to acquire heavenly treasures, wisdom, love, purity, and faith, which will never pass from your possession nor cease from your enjoyment. "I go to prepare a place for you. And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and receive you unto myself, that where I am there ye may be also." To understand this text, we must carefully study the whole four chapters of the connection in which it stands. They abound in bold symbols. An instance of this is seen where Jesus, having washed his disciples' feet, says to them, "Ye are clean, but not all. For he knew who should betray him. Therefore said he, Ye are not all clean." The actual meaning of the passage before us may be illustrated by a short paraphrase of it with the context: "Let not your hearts be troubled by the thought that I must die and be removed from you; for there are other states of being besides this earthly life. When they crucify me, as I have said to you before, I shall not perish, but shall pass into a higher state of existence with my Father. Whither I go ye know, and the way ye know: my Father is the end, and the truths that I have declared point out the way. If ye loved me, ye would rejoice because I say that I go to the Father. And if I go to him, if, when they have put me to death, I pass into an unseen state of blessedness and glory (as I prophesy unto you that I shall,) I will reveal myself unto you again, and tell you. I go before you as a pioneer, and will surely come back and confirm, with irresistible evidence, the reality of what I have already told you. Therefore, trouble not your hearts, but be of good cheer." "There is joy in the presence of the angels of God over one sinner that repenteth." The sentiment of this Divine declaration simply implies that all good beings sympathize with every triumph of goodness; that the living chain of mutual interest runs through the spiritual universe, making one family of those on earth and those in the invisible state. "Touch me not; for I am not yet ascended to my Father." "Cling not to me, detain me not, for I have not yet left the world forever, to be in the spiritual state with my Father; and ere I do this I must seek my disciples, to convince them of my resurrection and to give them my parting commission and blessing." He used the common language, for it was the only language which she whom he addressed would understand; and although, literally interpreted, it conveyed the idea of a local heaven on high, yet at the same time it conveyed, and in the only way intelligible to her, all the truth that was important, namely, that when he disappeared he would still be living, and be, furthermore, with God. When Christ finally went from his disciples, he seemed to them to rise and vanish towards the clouds. This would confirm their previous material conceptions, and the old forms of speech would be handed down, strengthened by these phenomena, misunderstood in themselves and exaggerated in their importance. We generally speak now of God's "throne," of "heaven," as situated far away in the blue ether; we point upward to the world of bliss, and say, There the celestial hosannas roll; there the happy ones, the unforgotten ones of our love, wait to welcome us. These forms of speech are entirely natural; they are harmless; they aid in giving definiteness to our thoughts and feelings, and it is well to continue their use; it would be difficult to express our thoughts without them. However, we must understand that they are not strictly and exclusively true. God is everywhere; and wherever he is there is heaven to the spirits that are like him and, consequently, see him and enjoy his ineffable blessedness. Jesus sometimes uses the phrase "kingdom of heaven" as synonymous with the Divine will, the spiritual principles or laws which he was inspired to proclaim. Many of his parables were spoken to illustrate the diffusive power and the incomparable value of the truth he taught, as when he said, "The kingdom of heaven is like a grain of mustard seed, which becomes a great tree;" it is "like unto leaven, which a woman put in two measures of meal until the whole was leavened;" it is "like a treasure hid in a field," or "like a goodly pearl of great price, which, a man finding, he goes and sells all that he has and buys it." In these examples "the kingdom of heaven" is plainly a personification of the revealed will of God, the true law of salvation and eternal life. In answer to the question why he spoke so many things to the people in parables, Jesus said to his disciples, "Because it is given unto you to know the mysteries of the kingdom of heaven; but unto them it is not given;" that is, You are prepared to understand the hitherto concealed truths of God's government, if set forth plainly; but they are not prepared. Here as also in the parables of the vineyard let out to husbandmen, and of the man who sowed good seed in his field, and in a few other cases "the kingdom of heaven" means God's government, his mode of dealing with men, his method of establishing his truths in the hearts of men. "The kingdom of heaven" sometimes signifies personal purity and peace, freedom from sensual solicitations. "There be eunuchs which have made themselves eunuchs for the kingdom of heaven's sake. He that is able to receive it, let him receive it." Christ frequently uses the term "kingdom of heaven" in a somewhat restricted, traditional sense, based in form but not in spirit upon the Jewish expectations of the Messiah's kingdom. "Be ye sure of this, that the kingdom of God is come nigh unto you;" "I must preach the kingdom of God to other cities also;" "Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand." Christ was charged to bear to men a new revelation from God of his government and laws, that he might reign over them as a monarch over conscious and loyal subjects. "Many shall come from the East and the West, and shall sit down with Abraham and Isaac and Jacob in the kingdom of heaven; but the children of the kingdom shall be cast out into outer darkness." The sense of these texts is as follows. "God is now offering unto you, through me, a spiritual dispensation, a new kingdom; but, unless you faithfully heed it and fulfil its conditions, you shall be rejected from it and lose the Divine favor. Although, by your position as the chosen people, and in the line of revelation, you are its natural heirs, yet, unless you rule your spirits and lives by its commands, you shall see the despised Gentiles enjoying all the privileges your faith allows to the revered patriarchs of your nation, while yourselves are shut out from them and overwhelmed with shame and anguish. Your pride of descent, haughtiness of spirit, and reliance upon dead rites unfit you for the true kingdom of God, the inward reign of humility and righteousness; and the very publicans and harlots, repenting and humbling themselves, shall go into it before you." To be welcomed under this Messianic dispensation, to become a citizen of this spiritual kingdom of God, the Savior declares that there are certain indispensable conditions. A man must repent and forsake his sins. This was the burden of John's preaching, that the candidate for the kingdom of heaven must first be baptized with water unto repentance, as a sign that he abjures and is cleansed from all his old errors and iniquities. Then he must be baptized with the Holy Spirit and with fire, that is, must learn the positive principles of the coming kingdom, and apply them to his own character, to purge away every corrupt thing. He must be born again, born of water and of the Spirit: in other words, he must be brought out from his impurity and wickedness into a new and Divine life of holiness, awakened to a conscious experience of purity, truth, and love, the great prime elements in the reign of God. He must be guileless and lowly. "Whosoever will not receive the kingdom of God as a little child shall in no wise enter therein." The kingdom of heaven, the better dispensation which Christ came to establish, is the humility of contrite hearts, the innocence of little children, the purity of undefiled consciences, the fruit of good works, the truth of universal laws, the love of God, and the conscious experience of an indestructible, blessed being. Those who enter into these qualities in faith, in feeling, and in action are full citizens of that eternal kingdom; all others are aliens from it. Heaven, then, according to Christ's use of the word, is not distinctively a world situated somewhere in immensity, but a purely spiritual experience, having nothing to do with any special time or place. It is a state of the soul, or a state of society, under the rule of truth, governed by God's will, either in this life or in a future. He said to the young ruler who had walked faithfully in the law, and whose good traits drew forth his love, "Thou art not far from the kingdom of God." It is evident that this does not mean a bounded place of abode, but a true state of character, a virtuous mode of life "My kingdom is not of this world." "Every one that is of the truth heareth my voice." That is, "My kingdom is the realm of truth, the dominion of God's will, and all true men are my subjects." Evidently this is not a material but a moral reign and therefore unlimited by seasons or places. Wherever purity, truth, love, obedience, prevail, there is God, and that is heaven. It is not necessary to depart into some distant sphere to meet the Infinite Holy One and dwell with him. He is on the very dust we tread, he is the very centre of our souls and breath of our lives, if we are only in a state that is fitted to recognise and enjoy him. "He that hath sent me is with me: the Father hath not left me alone, for I always do those things which please him." It is a fair inference from such statements as this that to do with conscious adoration and love those things that please God is to be with him, without regard to time or place; and that is heaven. "I speak that which I have seen with my Father," God, "and ye do that which ye have seen with your father, the devil." No one will suppose that Jesus meant to tell the wicked men whom he was addressing that they committed their iniquities in consequence of lessons learned in a previous state of existence with an arch fiend, the parent of all evil. His meaning, then, was, I bring forth in words and deeds the things which I have learned in my secret soul from inspired communion with infinite goodness and perfection; you bring forth the things which you have learned from communion with the source of sin and woe, that is, foul propensities, cruel passions, and evil thoughts. "I come forth from the Father and am come into the world; again I leave the world and go unto the Father." "I go unto Him that sent me." Since it is declared that God is an Omnipresent Spirit, and that those who obey and love him see him and are with him everywhere, these striking words must bear one of the two following interpretations. First, they may imply in general that man is created and sent into this state of being by the Father, and that after the termination of the present life the soul is admitted to a closer union with the Parent Spirit. This gives a natural meaning to the language which represents dying as going to the Father. Not that it is necessary to travel to reach God, but that the spiritual verity is most adequately expressed under such a metaphor. But, secondly, and more probably, the phraseology under consideration may be meant as an assertion of the Divine origin and authority of the special mission of Christ. "Neither came I of myself, but He sent me;" "The words that I speak unto you I speak not of myself;" "As the Father hath taught me, I speak these things." These passages do not necessarily teach the pre existence of Christ and his descent from heaven in the flesh. That is a carnal interpretation which does great violence to the genuine nature of the claims put forth by our Savior. They may merely declare the supernatural commission of the Son of God, his direct inspiration and authority. He did not voluntarily assume his great work, but was Divinely ordered on that service. Compare the following text: "The baptism of John, whence was it, from Heaven, or of men?" That is to say, was it of human or of Divine origin and authority? So when it is said that the Son of Man descended from heaven, or was sent by the Father, the meaning in Christ's mind probably was that he was raised up, did his works, spoke his words, by the inspiration and with the sanction of God. The accuracy of this interpretation is seen by the following citation from the Savior's own words, when he is speaking in his prayer at the last supper of sending his disciples out to preach the gospel: "As thou hast sent me into the world, even so have I also sent them into the world." The reference, evidently, is to a Divine choice and sealing, not to a descent upon the earth from another sphere. That the author of the Fourth Gospel believed that Christ descended from heaven literally we have not the shadow of a doubt. He repeatedly speaks of him as the great super angelic Logos, the first born Son and perfect image of God, the instrumental cause of the creation. His mind was filled with the same views, the same lofty Logos theory that is so abundantly set forth in the writings of Philo Judaus. He reports and describes the Savior in conformity with such a theological postulate. Possessed with the foregone conclusion that Jesus was the Divine Logos, descended from the celestial abode, and born into the world as a man, in endeavoring to write out from memory, years after they were uttered, the Savior's words, it is probable that he unconsciously misapprehended and tinged them according to his theory. The Delphic apothegm, "Know thyself," was said to have descended from heaven: "E coelo descendit [non ASCII characters]." By a familiar Jewish idiom, "to ascend into heaven" meant to learn the will of God.8 And whatever bore the direct sancion of God was said to descend from heaven. When in these figurative terms Jesus asserted his Divine commission, it seems that some understood him literally, and concluded perhaps in consequence of his miracles, joined with their own speculations that he was the Logos incarnated. That such a conclusion was an unwarranted inference from metaphorical language and from a foregone pagan dogma appears from his own explanatory and justifying words spoken to the Jews. For when they accused him of making himself God, he replies, "If in your law they are called gods to whom the word of God came, charge ye him whom the Father hath sanctified and sent into the world with blasphemy, because he says he is the Son of God?" Christ's language in the Fourth Gospel 8 Schoettgen, in John iii. 13. may be fairly explained without implying his actual pre existence or superhuman nature. But it does not seem to us that John's possibly can be. His miracles, according to the common idea of them, did not prove him to be the coequal fac simile, but merely proved him to be the delegated envoy, of God. We may sum up the consideration of this point in a few words. Christ did not essentially mean by the term "heaven" the world of light and glory located by the Hebrews, and by some other nations, just above the visible firmament. His meaning, when he spoke of the kingdom of God or heaven, was always, in some form, either the reign of justice, purity, and love, or the invisible world of spirits. If that world, heaven, be in fact, and were in his conception, a sphere located in space, he never alluded to its position, but left it perfectly in the dark, keeping his instructions scrupulously free from any such commitment. He said, "I go to Him that sent me;" "I will come again and receive you unto myself, that where I am there ye may be also." The references to locality are vague and mysterious. The nature of his words, and their scantiness, are as if he had said, We shall live hereafter; we shall be with the Father; we shall be together. All the rest is mystery, even to me: it is not important to be known, and the Father hath concealed it. Such, almost, are his very words. "A little while, and ye shall not see me; again, a little while, and ye shall see me, because I go to the Father." "Father, I will that they also whom thou hast given me be with me where I am." Whether heaven be technically a material abode or a spiritual state it is of little importance to us to know; and the teachings of Jesus seem to have nothing to do with it. The important things for us to know are that there is a heaven, and how we may prepare for it; and on these points the revelation is explicit. To suppose the Savior ignorant of some things is not inconsistent with his endowments; for he himself avowed his ignorance, saying, "Of that day knoweth no man; no, not even the angels which are in heaven, neither the Son, but the Father." And it adds an awful solemnity, an indescribably exciting interest, to his departure from the world, to conceive him hovering on the verge of the same mystery which has enveloped every passing mortal, hovering there with chastened wonder and curiosity, inspired with an absolute trust that in that fathomless obscurity the Father would be with him, and would unveil new realms of life, and would enable him to come back and assure his disciples. He certainly did not reveal the details of the future state: whether he was acquainted with them himself or not we cannot tell. We next advance to the most important portion of the words of Christ regarding the life and destiny of the soul, those parts of his doctrine which are most of a personal, experimental character, sounding the fountains of consciousness, piercing to the dividing asunder of our being. It is often said that Jesus everywhere takes for granted the fact of immortality, that it underlies and permeates all he does and says. We should know at once that such a being must be immortal; such a life could never be lived by an ephemeral creature; of all possible proofs of immortality he is himself the sublimest. This is true, but not the whole truth. The resistless assurance, the Divine inspiration, the sublime repose, with which he enunciates the various thoughts connected with the theme of endless existence, are indeed marvellous. But he not only authoritatively assumes the truth of a future life: he speaks directly of it in many ways, often returns to it, continually hovers about it, reasons for it, exhorts upon it, makes most of his instructions hinge upon it, shows that it is a favorite subject of his communion. We may put the justice of these statements in a clear light by bringing together and explaining some of his scattered utterances. His express language teaches that man in this world is a twofold being, leading a twofold life, physical and spiritual, the one temporal, the other eternal, the one apt unduly to absorb his affections, the other really deserving his profoundest care. This separation of the body and the soul, and survival of the latter, is brought to light in various striking forms and with various piercing applications. In view of the dangers that beset his disciples on their mission, he exhorted and warned them thus: "Fear not them which have power to kill the body and afterwards have no more that they can do; but rather fear Him who can kill both soul and body;" "Whosoever will save his life shall lose it; and whosoever will lose his life for my sake shall find it;" that is, whosoever, for the sake of saving the life of his body, shrinks from the duties of this dangerous time, shall lose the highest welfare of the soul; but whosoever loveth his lower life in the body less than he loves the virtues of a consecrated spirit shall win the true blessedness of his soul. Both of these passages show that the soul has a life and interest separate from the material tabernacle. With what pathos and convincing power was the same faith expressed in his ejaculation from the cross, "Father, into thy hands I commend my spirit!" an expression of trust which, under such circumstances of desertion, horror, and agony, could only have been prompted by that inspiration of God which he always claimed to have. Christ once reasoned with the Sadducees "as touching the dead, that they rise;" in other words, that the souls of men upon the decease of the body pass into another and an unending state of existence: "Neither can they die any more; for they are equal with the angels, and are children of God, being children of the resurrection." His argument was, that "God is the God of the living, not of the dead;" that is, the spiritual nature of man involves such a relationship with God as pledges his attributes to its perpetuity. The thought which supports this reasoning penetrates far into the soul and grasps the moral relations between man and God. It is most interesting viewed as the unqualified affirmation by Jesus of the doctrine of a future life which shall be deathless. But the Savior usually stood in a more imposing attitude and spoke in a more commanding tone than are indicated in the foregoing sentences. The prevailing stand point from which he spoke was that of an oracle giving responses from the inner shrine of the Divinity. The words and sentiments he uttered were not his, but the Father's; and he uttered them in the clear tones of knowledge and authority, not in the whispering accents of speculation or surmise. How these entrancing tidings came to him he knew not: they were no creations of his; they rose spontaneously within him, bearing the miraculous sign and seal of God, a recommendation he could no more question or resist than he could deny his own existence. He was set apart as a messenger to men. The tide of inspiration welled up till it filled every nerve and crevice of his being with conscious life and with an overmastering recognition of its living relations with the Omnipresent and Everlasting Life. Straightway he knew that the Father was in him and he in the Father, and that he was commissioned to reveal the mind of the Father to the world. He knew, by the direct knowledge of inspiration and consciousness, that he should live forever. Before his keen, full, spiritual vitality the thought of death fled away, the thought of annihilation could not come. So far removed was his soul from the perception of interior sleep and decay, so broad and powerful was his consciousness of indestructible life, that he saw quite through the crumbling husks of time and sense to the crystal sea of spirit and thought. So absorbing was his sense of eternal life in himself that he even constructed an argument from his personal feeling to prove the immortality of others, saying to his disciples, "Because I live, ye shall live also;" "Ye believe in God, believe also in me." Ye believe what God declares, for he cannot be mistaken; believe what I declare for his inspiration makes me infallible when I say there are many spheres of life for us when this is ended. It was from the fulness of this experience that Jesus addressed his hearers. He spoke not so much as one who had faith that immortal life would hereafter be revealed and certified, but rather as one already in the insight and possession of it, as one whose foot already trod the eternal floor and whose vision pierced the immense horizon. "Verily, verily, I say unto you, he that heareth my word and believeth on Him that sent me hath everlasting life, and shall not come into condemnation, but is passed from death unto life." Being himself brought to this immovable assurance of immortal life by the special inspiration of God, it was his aim to bring others to the same blessed knowledge. His efforts to effect this form a most constant feature in his teachings. His own definition of his mission was, "I am come that they might have life, and that they might have it more abundantly." We see by the persistent drift of his words that he strove to lead others to the same spiritual point he stood at, that they might see the same prospect he saw, feel the same certitude he felt, enjoy the same communion with God and sense of immortality he enjoyed. "As the Father raiseth up the dead and quickeneth them, even so the Son quickeneth whom he will;" "For as the Father hath life in himself, so hath he given the Son to have life in himself;" "Father, glorify thy Son, that thy Son also may glorify thee; as thou hast given him power over all flesh, that he might give eternal life to as many as thou hast given him: and this is life eternal, that they might know thee, the only true God, and Jesus Christ whom thou hast sent." In other words, the mission of Christ was to awaken in men the experience of immortal life; and that would be produced by imparting to them reproducing in them the experience of his own soul. Let us notice what steps he took to secure this end. He begins by demanding the unreserved credence of men to what he says, claiming to say it with express authority from God, and giving miraculous credentials. "Whatsoever I speak, therefore, as the Father said to me, so I speak." This claim to inspired knowledge he advances so emphatically that it cannot be overlooked. He then announces, as an unquestionable truth, the supreme claim of man's spiritual interests upon his attention and labor, alike from their inherent superiority and their enduring subsistence. "For what shall it profit a man if he gain the whole world and lose his own soul?" "Thou fool, this night thy soul shall be required of thee: then whose shall be those things thou hast gathered?" "Labor not for the meat which perisheth, but for that meat which endureth unto everlasting life." The inspiration which dictated these instructions evidently based them upon the profoundest spiritual philosophy, upon the truth that man lives at once in a sphere of material objects which is comparatively unimportant because he will soon leave it, and in a sphere of moral realities which is all important because he will live in it forever. "Man shall not live by bread alone, but by every word that proceedeth out of the mouth of God." The body, existing in the sphere of material relations, is supported by material bread; but the soul, existing in the sphere of spiritual relations, is supported by truth, the nourishing breath of God's love. We are in the eternal world, then, at present. Its laws and influences penetrate and rule us; its ethereal tides lave and bear us on; our experience and destiny in it are decided every moment by our characters. If we are pure in heart, have vital faith and force, we shall see God and have new revelations made to us. Such are among the fundamental principles of Christianity. There is another class of texts, based upon a highly figurative style of speech, striking Oriental idioms, the explanation of which will cast further light upon the branch of the subject immediately before us. "As the living Father hath sent me, and I live by the Father, so he that eateth me, even he shall live by me;" that is, As the blessed Father hath inspired me with the knowledge of him, and I am blessed with the consciousness of his immortal love, so he that believes and assimilates these truths as I proclaim them, he shall experience the same blessedness through my instruction. The words. "I am the bread of life" are explained by the words "I am the truth." The declaration "Whoso eateth my flesh hath eternal life" is illustrated by the declaration "Whosoever heareth my word and believeth on Him that sent me hath everlasting life." There is no difficulty in understanding what Jesus meant when he said, "I have meat to eat ye know not of: my meat is to do the will of Him that sent me." Why should we not with the same ease, upon the same principles, interpret his kindred expression, "This is the bread which cometh down from heaven, that a man may eat thereof and not die"? The idea to be conveyed by all this phraseology is, that whosoever understands, accepts, assimilates, and brings out in earnest experience, the truths Christ taught, would realize the life of Christ, feel the same assurance of Divine favor and eternal blessedness. "He that eateth my flesh and drinketh my blood dwelleth in me and I in him;" that is, we have the same character, are fed by the same nutriment, rest in the same experience. Fortunately, we are not left to guess at the accuracy of this exegesis: it is demonstrated from the lips of the Master himself. When he knew that the disciples murmured at what he had said about eating his flesh, and called it a hard saying, he said to them, "It is the spirit that quickeneth; the flesh profiteth nothing: the words that I speak unto you, they are spirit and they are life. But there are some of you that believe not." Any man who heartily believed what Christ said that he was Divinely authorized to declare, and did declare, the pervading goodness of the Father and the immortal blessedness of the souls of his children, by the very terms was delivered from the bondage of fear and commenced the consciousness of eternal life. Of course, we are not to suppose that faith in Christ obtains immortality itself for the believer: it only rectifies and lights up the conditions of it, and awakens the consciousness of it. "I am the resurrection and the life: whosoever liveth and believeth in me shall never die." We suppose this means, he shall know that he is never to perish: it cannot refer to physical dissolution, for the believer dies equally with the unbeliever; it cannot refer to immortal existence in itself, for the unbeliever is as immortal as the believer: it must refer to the blessed nature of that immortality and to the personal assurance of it, because these Christ does impart to the disciple, while the unregenerate unbeliever in his doctrine, of course, has them not. Coming from God to reveal his infinite love, exemplifying the Divine elements of an immortal nature in his whole career, coming back from the grave to show its sceptre broken and to point the way to heaven, well may Christ proclaim, "Whosoever believes in me" knows he "shall never perish." Among the Savior's parables is an impressive one, which we cannot help thinking perhaps fancifully was intended to illustrate the dealings of Providence in ordering the earthly destiny of humanity. "So is the kingdom of God, as if a man should cast seed into the ground and the seed should grow up; but when the fruit is ripe he putteth in the sickle, because the harvest is come." Men are seed sown in this world to ripen and be harvested in another. The figure, taken on the scale of the human race and the whole earth, is sublime. Whether such an image were originally suggested by the parable or not, the conception is consistent with Christian doctrine. The pious Sterling prays, "Give thou the life which we require, That, rooted fast in thee, From thee to thee we may aspire, And earth thy garden be." The symbol shockingly perverted from its original beautiful meaning by the mistaken belief that we sleep in our graves until a distant resurrection day is often applied to burial grounds. Let its appropriate significance be restored. Life is the field, death the reaper, another sphere of being the immediate garner. An enlightened Christian, instead of entitling a graveyard the garden of the dead, and looking for its long buried forms to spring from its cold embrace, will hear the angel saying again, "They are not here: they are risen." The line which written on Klopstock's tomb is a melancholy error, engraved on his cradle would have been an inspiring truth: "Seed sown by God to ripen for the harvest." Several fragmentary speeches, which we have not yet noticed, of the most tremendous and even exhaustive import, are reported as having fallen from the lips of Christ at different times. These sentences, rapid and incomplete as they are in the form in which they have reached us, do yet give us glimpses of the most momentous character into the profoundest thoughts of his mind. They are sufficient to enable us to generalize their fundamental principles, and construct the outlines, if we may so speak, of his theology, his inspired conception of God, the universe, and man, and the resulting duties and destiny of man. We will briefly bring together and interpret these passages, and deduce the system which they seem to presuppose and rest upon. Jesus told the woman of Samaria that God was to be worshipped acceptably neither in that mountain nor at Jerusalem exclusively, but anywhere, if it were worthily done. "God is a Spirit; and they that worship him must worship him in spirit and in truth." This passage, with others, teaches the spirituality and omnipresence of God. Christ conceived of God as an infinite Spirit. Again, comforting his friends in view of his approaching departure, he said, "In my Father's house are many mansions: if it were not so I would have told you. I go to prepare a place for you." Here he plainly figures the universe as a house containing many apartments, all pervaded and ruled by the Father's presence. He was about taking leave of this earth to proceed to another part of the creation, and he promised to come back to his followers and assure them there was another abode prepared for them. Christ conceived of the universe, with its innumerable divisions, as the house of God. Furthermore, he regarded truth or the essential laws and right tendencies of things and the will of God as identical. He said he came into the world to do the will of Him that sent him; that is, as he at another time expressed it, he came into the world to bear witness unto the truth. Thus he prayed, "Father, sanctify them through the truth: thy word is truth." Christ conceived of pure truth as the will of God. Finally, he taught that all who obey the truth, or do the will of God, thereby constitute one family of brethren, one family of the accepted children of God, in all worlds forever. "He that doeth the truth cometh to the light, that his deeds may be made manifest that they are wrought in God;" "Whosoever shall do the will of God, the same is my brother, and my sister, and mother;" "Ye shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you free. Whosoever committeth sin is the servant of sin. And the servant abideth not in the house forever; but the son abideth forever. If the Son, therefore, make you free, ye shall be free indeed." That is to say, truth gives a good man the freedom of the universe, makes him know himself an heir, immortally and everywhere at home; sin gives the wicked man over to bondage, makes him feel afraid of being an outcast, loads him with hardships as a servant. Whoever will believe the revelations of Christ, and assimilate his experience, shall lose the wretched burdens of unbelief and fear and be no longer a servant, but be made free indeed, being adopted as a son. The whole conception, then, is this: The universe is one vast house, comprising many subordinate mansions. All the moral beings that dwell in it compose one immortal family. God is the universal Father. His will the truth is the law of the household. Whoever obeys it is a worthy son and has the Father's approbation; whoever disobeys it is alienated and degraded into the condition of a servant. We may roam from room to room, but can never get lost outside the walls beyond the reach of the Paternal arms. Death is variety of scenery and progress of life: "We bow our heads At going out, we think, and enter straight Another golden chamber of the King's, Larger than this we leave, and lovelier." Who can comprehend the idea, in its overwhelming magnificence and in its touching beauty, its sweeping amplitude embracing all mysteries, its delicate fitness meeting all wants, without being impressed and stirred by it, even to the regeneration of his soul? If there is any thing calculated to make man feel and live like a child of God, it would surely seem to be this conception. Its unrivalled simplicity and verisimilitude compel the assent of the mind to its reality. It is the most adequate and sublime view of things that ever entered the reason of man. It is worthy the inspiration of God, worthy the preaching of the Son of God. All the artificial and arbitrary schemes of fanciful theologians are as ridiculous and impertinent before it as the offensive flaring of torches in the face of one who sees the steady and solemn splendors of the sun. To live in the harmony of the truth of things, in the conscious love of God and enjoyment of immortality, blessed children, everywhere at home in the hospitable mansions of the everlasting Father, this is the experience to which Christ calls his followers; and any eschatology inconsistent with such a conception is not his. There are two general methods of interpretation respectively applied to the words of Christ, the literal, or mechanical, and the spiritual, or vital. The former leads to a belief in his second visible advent with an army of angels from heaven, a bodily resurrection of the dead, a universal judgment, the burning up of the world, eternal tortures of the wicked in an abyss of infernal fire, a heaven located on the arch of the Hebrew firmament. The latter gives us a group of the profoundest moral truths clustered about the illuminating and emphasizing mission of Christ, sealed with Divine sanctions, truths of universal obligation and of all redeeming power. The former method is still adopted by the great body of Christendom, who are landed by it in a system of doctrines well nigh identical with those of the Pharisees, against which Christ so emphatically warned his followers, a system of traditional dogmas not having the slightest support in philosophy, nor the least contact with the realities of experience, nor the faintest color of inherent or historical probability. In this age they are absolutely incredible to unhampered and studious minds. On the other hand, the latter method is pursued by the growing body of rational Christians, and it guides them to a consistent array of indestructible moral truths, simple, fundamental, and exhaustive, an array of spiritual principles commanding universal and implicit homage, robed in their own brightness, accredited by their own fitness, armed with the loveliness and terror of their own rewarding and avenging divinity, flashing in mutual lights and sounding in consonant echoes alike from the law of nature and from the soul of man, as the Son of God, with miraculous voice, speaks between. CHAPTER VII. RESURRECTION OF CHRIST. OF all the single events that ever were supposed to have occurred in the world, perhaps the most august in its moral associations and the most stupendous in its lineal effects, both on the outward fortunes and on the inward experience of mankind, is the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead. If, therefore, there is one theme in all the range of thought worthy of candid consideration, it is this. There are two ways of examining it. We may, as unquestioning Christians, inquire how the New Testament writers represent it, what premises they assume, what statements they make, and what inferences they draw. Thus, without perversion, without mixture of our own notions, we should construct the Scripture doctrine of the resurrection of the Savior. Again as critical scholars and philosophical thinkers, we may study that doctrine in all its parts, scrutinize it in all its bearings, trace, as far as possible, the steps and processes of its formation, discriminate as well as we can, by all fair tests, whether it be entirely correct, or wholly erroneous, or partly true and partly false. Both of these methods of investigation are necessary to a full understanding of the subject. Both are obligatory upon the earnest inquirer. Whoso would bravely face his beliefs and intelligently comprehend them, with their grounds and their issues, with a devout desire for the pure truth, whatsoever it may be, putting his trust in the God who made him, will never shrink from either of these courses of examination. Whoso does shrink from these inquiries is either a moral coward, afraid of the results of an honest search after that truth of things which expresses the will of the Creator, or a spiritual sluggard, frightened by a call to mental effort and torpidly clinging to ease of mind. And whoso, accepting the personal challenge of criticism, carries on the investigation with prejudice and passion, holding errors because he thinks them safe and useful, and rejecting realities because he fancies them dangerous and evil, is an intellectual traitor, disloyal to the sacred laws by which God hedges the holy fields and rules the responsible subjects of the realm of truth. We shall combine the two modes of inquiry, first singly asking what the Scriptures declare, then critically seeking what the facts will warrant, it being unimportant to us whether these lines exactly coincide or diverge somewhat, the truth itself being all. We now pass to an examination of Christ's resurrection from five points of view: first, as a fact; second, as a fulfilment of prophecy; third, as a pledge; fourth, as a symbol; and fifth, as a theory. The writers of the New Testament speak of the resurrection of Christ, in the first place, as a fact. "Jesus whom ye slew and hanged on a tree, him hath God raised up." It could not have been viewed by them in the light of a theory or a legend, nor, indeed, as any thing else than a marvellous but literal fact. This appears from their minute accounts of the scenes at the sepulchre and of the disappearance of his body. Their declarations of this are most unequivocal, emphatic, iterated, "The Lord is risen indeed." All that was most important in their faith they based upon it, all that was most precious to them in this life they staked upon it. "Else why stand we in jeopardy every hour?" They held it before their inner vision as a guiding star through the night of their sufferings and dangers, and freely poured out their blood upon the cruel shrines of martyrdom in testimony that it was a fact. That they believed he literally rose from the grave in visible form also appears, and still more forcibly, from their descriptions of his frequent manifestations to them. These show that in their faith he assumed at his resurrection the same body in which he had lived before, which was crucified and buried. All attempts, whether by Swedenborgians or others, to explain this Scripture language as signifying that he rose in an immaterial body, are futile.1 He appeared to their senses and was recognised by his identical bodily form. He partook of physical food with them. "They gave him a piece of broiled fish and of an honey comb; and he ate before them." The marks in his hands and side were felt by the incredulous Thomas, and convinced him. He said to them, "Handle me, and see; for a spirit hath not flesh and bones as ye see me have." To a candid mind there can hardly be a question that the gospel records describe the resurrection of Christ as a literal fact, that his soul reanimated the deceased body, and that in it he showed himself to his disciples. Yet that there are a few texts implying the immateriality of his resurrection body that there are two accounts of it in the gospels we cannot deny. We advance to see what is the historical evidence for the fact of the resurrection of Christ. This argument, of course, turns chiefly on one point, namely, the competency of the witnesses, and the validity of their testimony.2 We will present the usually exhibited scheme of proof as strongly as we can.3 In the first place, those who testified to the resurrection were numerous enough, so far as mere numbers go, to establish the fact beyond question. Paul declares there were above five hundred who from their personal knowledge could affirm of the Lord's resurrection. But particularly there were the eleven apostles, the two Marys, Cleopas, and the disciples from whom Joseph and Matthias the candidates for Judas Iscariot's apostleship were selected, consisting probably of most of the seventy. If the evidence of any number of men ought to convince us of the alleged event, then, under the existing circumstances, that of twelve ought. Important matters of history are often unhesitatingly received on the authority of a single historian. If the occurrences at the time were sufficient to demonstrate to a reasonable mind the reality of the resurrection, then the unanimous testimony of twelve men to those occurrences should convince us. The oaths of a thousand would be no stronger. These men possessed sufficient abilities to be trusted, good powers of judgment, and varied experience. The selection of them by Him who "knew what was in man," the boldness and efficiency of their lives, the fruits of their labors everywhere, amply prove their 1 The opposite view is ably argued by Bush in his valuable treatise on the Resurrection. 2 Sherlock, Trial of the Witnesses. 3 Ditton, Demonstration of the Resurrection of Christ. For a sternly faithful estimate of the cogency of this argument, it must be remembered that all the data, every fact and postulate in each step of the reasoning, rest on the historical authority of the four Gospels, documents whose authorship and date are lost in obscurity. Even of "orthodox" theologians few, with any claims to scholarship, now hold that these Gospels, as they stand, were written by the persons whose names they bear. They wander and waver in a thick fog. See Milman's "History of Christianity," vol. i. ch. ii. appendix ii. general intelligence and energy. And they had, too, the most abundant opportunities of knowledge in regard to the facts to which they bore witness. They were present in the places, at the times, when and where the events occurred. Every motive would conspire to make them scrutinize the subject and the attendant circumstances. And it seems they did examine; for at first some doubted, but afterwards believed. They had been close companions of Jesus for more than a year at the least. They had studied his every feature, look, gesture. They must have been able to recognise him, or to detect an impostor, if the absurd idea of an attempted imposition can be entertained. They saw him many times, near at hand, in the broad light. Not only did they see him, but they handled his wounded limbs and listened to his wondrous voice. If these means of knowing the truth were not enough to make their evidence valid, then no opportunities could be sufficient. Whoso allows its full force to the argument thus far will admit that the testimony of the witnesses to the resurrection is conclusive, unless he suspects that by some cause they were either incapacitated to weigh evidence fairly, or were led wilfully to stifle the truth and publish a falsehood. Very few persons have ever been inclined to make this charge, that the apostles were either wild enthusiasts of fancy, or crafty calculators of fraud; and no one has ever been able to support the position even with moderate plausibility. Granting, in the first place, hypothetically, that the disciples were ever so great enthusiasts in their general character and conduct, still, they could not have been at all so in relation to the resurrection, because, before it occurred, they had no belief, expectations, nor thoughts about it. By their own frank confessions, they did not understand Christ's predictions, nor the ancient supposed prophecies of that event. And without a strong faith, a burning hopeful desire, or something of the kind, for it to spring from, and rest on, and be nourished by, evidently no enthusiasm could exist. Accordingly, we find that previous to the third day after Christ's death they said nothing, thought nothing, about a resurrection; but from that time, as by an inspiration from heaven, they were roused to both words and deeds. The sudden astonishing change here alluded to is to be accounted for only by supposing that in the mean time they had been brought to a belief that the resurrection had occurred. But, secondly, it is to be noticed that these witnesses were not enthusiasts on other subjects. No one could be the subject of such an overweening enthusiasm as the hypothesis supposes, without betraying it in his conduct, without being overmastered and led by it as an insane man is by his mania. The very opposite of all this was actually the case with the apostles. The Gospels are unpretending, dispassionate narratives, without rhapsody, adulation, or vanity. Their whole conduct disproves the charge of fanaticism. Their appeals were addressed more to reason than to feeling; their deeds were more courageous than rash. They avoided tumult, insult, and danger whenever they could honorably do so; but, when duty called, their noble intrepidity shrank not. They were firm as the trunks of oaks to meet the agony and horror of a violent death when it came; yet they rather shunned than sought to wear the glorious crown from beneath whose crimson circlet drops of bloody sweat must drip from a martyr's brows. The number of the witnesses for the resurrection, the abilities they possessed, their opportunities for knowing the facts, prove the impossibility of their being duped, unless we suppose them to have been blind fanatics. This we have just shown they were not. Would it not, moreover, be most marvellous if they were such heated fanatics, all of them, so many men? But there is one further foothold for the disbeliever in the historic resurrection of Christ. He may say, "I confess the witnesses were capable of knowing, and undoubtedly did know, the truth; but, for some reason, they suppressed it, and proclaimed a deception." As to this charge, we not only deny the actuality, but even the possibility, of its truth. The narratives of the evangelists contain the strongest evidences of their honesty. The many little unaccountable circumstances they recount, which are so many difficulties in the way of critical belief, the real and the apparent inconsistencies, none of these would have been permitted by fraudulent authors. They are the most natural things in the world, supposing their writers unsuspiciously honest. They also frankly confess their own and each others' errors, ignorance, prejudices, and faults. Would they have done this save from simple hearted truthfulness? Would a designing knave voluntarily reveal to a suspicious scrutiny actions and traits naturally subversive of confidence in him? The conduct of the disciples under the circumstances, through all the scenes of their after lives, proves their undivided and earnest honesty. The cause they had espoused was, if we deny its truth, to the last degree repulsive in itself and in its concomitants, and they were surrounded with allurements to desert it. Yet how unyielding, wonderful, was their disinterested devotedness to it, without exception! Not one, overcome by terror or bowed by strong anguish, shrank from his self imposed task and cried out, "I confess!" No; but when they, and their first followers who knew what they knew, were laid upon racks and torn, when they were mangled and devoured alive by wild beasts, when they were manacled fast amidst the flames till their souls rode forth into heaven in chariots of fire, amidst all this, not one of them ever acknowledged fraud or renounced his belief in the resurrection of Jesus. Were they not honest? Others have died in support of theories and opinions with which their convictions and passions had become interwoven: they died rather than deny facts which were within the cognizance of their senses. Could any man, however firm and dauntless, under the circumstances, go through the trials they bore, without a feeling of truth and of God to support him? These remarks are particularly forcible in connection with the career of Paul. Endowed with brilliant talents, learned, living at the time and place, he must have been able to form a reliable opinion. And yet, while all the motives that commonly actuate men loudmouthed consistency, fame, wealth, pride, pleasure, the rooted force of inveterate prejudices all were beckoning to him from the temples and palaces of the Pharisaic establishment, he spurned the glowing visions of his ambition and dashed to earth the bright dreams of his youth. He ranged himself among the Christians, the feeble, despised, persecuted Christians; and, after having suffered every thing humanity could bear, having preached the resurrection everywhere with unflinching power, he was at last crucified, or beheaded, by Nero; and there, expiring among the seven hills of Rome, he gave the resistless testimony of his death to the resurrection of Jesus, gasping, as it were, with his last breath, "It is true." Granting the honesty of these men, we could not have any greater proof of it than we have now. But dishonesty in this matter was not merely untrue; it was also impossible. If fraud is admitted, a conspiracy must have been formed among the witnesses. But that a conspiracy of such a character should have been entered into by such men is in itself incredible, in the outset. And then, if it had been entered into, it must infallibly have broken through, been found out, or been betrayed, in the course of the disasters, perils, terrible trials, to which it and its fabricators were afterwards exposed. Prove that a body of from twelve to five hundred men could form a plan to palm off a gross falsehood upon the world, and could then adhere to it unfalteringly through the severest disappointments, dangers, sufferings, differences of opinion, dissension of feeling and action, without retiring from the undertaking, letting out the secret, or betraying each other in a single instance in the course of years, prove this, and you prove that men may do and dare, deny and suffer, not only without motives, but in direct opposition to their duty, interest, desire, prejudice, and passion. The disciples could not have pretended the resurrection from sensitiveness to the probable charge that they had been miserably deceived; for they did not understand their Master to predict any such event, nor had they the slightest expectation of it. They could not have pretended it for the sake of establishing and giving authority to the good precepts and doctrines Jesus taught; because such a course would have been in the plainest antagonism to all those principles themselves, and because, too, they must have known both the utter wickedness and the desperate hazards and forlornness of such an attempt to give a fictitious sanction to moral truths. In such an enterprise there was before them not the faintest probability of even the slightest success. Every selfish motive would tend to deter them; for poverty, hatred, disgrace, stripes, imprisonment, contempt, and death stared in their faces from the first step that way. Dishonesty, deliberate fraud, then, in this matter, was not merely untrue, but was impossible. The conclusion from the whole view is, therefore, the conviction that the evidence of the witnesses for the resurrection of Jesus is worthy of credence. There are three considerations, further, worthy of notice in estimating the strength of the historic argument for the resurrection. First, the conduct of the Savior himself in relation to the subject. The charge of unbalanced enthusiasm is inconsistent with the whole character and life of Jesus; but suppose on this point he was an enthusiast, and really believed that three days after his death he would rise again. In that case, would not his mind have dwelt upon the wonderful anticipated phenomenon? Would not his whole soul have been wrapped up in it, and his speech have been almost incessantly about it? Yet he spoke of it only three or four times, and then with obscurity. Again: suppose he was an impostor. An impostor would hardly have risked his reputation voluntarily on what he knew could never take place. Had he done so, his only reliance must have been upon the credulous enthusiasm of his followers. He would then have made it the chief topic, would have striven strenuously to make it a living and intense hope, an immovable, all controlling faith, concentrating on it their desires and expectations, heart and soul. But he really did not do this at all. He did not even make them understand what his vaticinations of the resurrection meant. And when they saw his untenanted body hanging on the cross, they slunk away in confusion and despair. Admit, again, that Christ was enthusiast, or impostor, or both: these qualities exist not in the grave. Here was their end. They could neither raise him from the dead nor move him from the tomb. No considerations in any way connected with Christ himself, therefore, can account for the occurrences that succeeded his death. Secondly, if the resurrection did not take place, what became of the Savior's body? We have already given reasons why the disciples could not have falsely pretended the resurrection. It is also impossible that they obtained, or surreptitiously disposed of, the dead and interred body; because it was in a tomb of rock securely sealed against them, and watched by a guard which they could neither bribe nor overpower; because they were too much disheartened and alarmed to try to get it; because they could not possibly want it, since they expected a temporal Messiah, and had no hope of a resurrection like that which they soon began proclaiming to the world. And as for the story told by the watch, or rather by the chief priests and Pharisees, it has not consistency enough to hold together. Its foolish unlikelihood has always been transparent. It is unreasonable to suppose that fresh guards would slumber at a post where the penalty of slumbering was death. And, if one or two did sleep, it is absurd to think all would do so. Besides, if they slept, how knew they what transpired in the mean time? Could they have dreamed it? Dreams are not taken in legal depositions; and, furthermore, it would be an astounding, gratuitous miracle if they all dreamed the same thing at the same time. Finally, a powerful collateral argument in proof of the resurrection of Christ is furnished by the conduct of the Jews. It might seem that if the guards told the chief priests, scribes, and Pharisees, of the miracles which occurred at the sepulchre, they must immediately have believed and proclaimed their belief in the Messiahship and resurrection of the crucified Savior. But they had previously remained invulnerable to as cogent proof as this would afford. They had acknowledged the miracles wrought by him when he was alive, but attributed them even his works of beneficence to demoniacal power. They said, "He casteth out devils by the power of Beelzebub, the prince of devils." So they acted in the present case, and, notwithstanding the peerless miracle related by the sentinels, still persisted in their alienation from the Christian faith. Their intensely cherished preconceptions respecting the Messiah, their persecution and crucifixion of Jesus, the glaring inconsistency of his teachings and experience with most that they expected, these things compelled their incredulity to every proof of the Messiahship of the contemned and murdered Nazarene. For, if they admitted the facts on which such proof was based, they would misinterpret them and deny the inferences justly drawn from them. This was plainly the case. It may be affirmed that the Jews believed the resurrection, because they took no fair measures to disprove it, but threatened those who declared it. Since they had every inducement to demonstrate its falsity, and might, it seems, have done so had it been false, and yet never made the feeblest effort to unmask the alleged fraud, we must suspect that they were themselves secretly convinced of its truth, but dared not let it be known, for fear it would prevail, become mighty in the earth, and push them from their seats. In the rage and blindness of their prejudices, they cried, "His blood be on us and on our children!" And from that generation to our own, their history has afforded a living proof of the historic truth of the gospel, and of the stability of its chief corner stone, the resurrection of Christ. The triumphal progress of Christianity from conquering to conquering, together with the baffled plans and complete subjection of the Jews, show that their providential preparatory mission has been fulfilled. If God is in history, guiding the moral drift of human affairs, then the dazzling success of the proclamation of the risen Redeemer is the Divine seal upon the truth of his mission and the reality of his apotheosis. Planting himself on this ground, surrounding himself with these evidences, the reverential Christian will at least for a long time to come cling firmly to the accepted fact of the resurrection of Christ, regardless of whatever misgivings and perplexities may trouble the mind of the iconoclastic and critical truth seeker. The Christian Scriptures, assuming the resurrection of Christ as a fact, describe it as a fulfilment of prophecy. Luke reports from the risen Savior the words, "O fools, and slow of heart to believe all that the prophets have spoken! Ought not Christ to have suffered these things, and to enter into his glory?" "Thus it is written, and thus it behooved Christ to suffer, and to rise from the dead the third day." Peter declares that the patriarch David before "spake of the resurrection of Christ." And Paul also affirms, "That the promise which was made unto the fathers, God hath fulfilled the same unto us their children, in that he hath raised up Jesus again." One can scarcely hesitate in deciding the meaning of these words as they were used by the apostles. The unanimous opinion and interpretation of the Christians of the first centuries, and of all the Church Fathers, leave no shadow of a doubt that it was believed that the resurrection of Jesus was repeatedly foretold in the Old Testament, expected by the prophets, and fulfilled in the event as a seal of the inspired prophecy. Furthermore, Jesus himself repeatedly prophesied his own resurrection from the dead, though his disciples did not understand his meaning until the event put a clear comment on the words. He charged those who saw his transfiguration on the mount, "Tell it to no man until the Son of Man be risen again from the dead." The chief priests told Pilate that they remembered that Jesus said, while he was yet alive, "After three days I will rise again." Standing in the temple at Jerusalem, Jesus said once, "Destroy this temple, and in three days I will raise it up." "When, therefore, he was risen from the dead, his disciples remembered that he had said this unto them;" and then they understood that "he had spoken of the temple of his body." It is perfectly plain that the New Testament represents the resurrection of Christ as the fulfilment of prophecies, those prophecies having been so expounded by him. There are few problems presented to the candid Christian scholar of to day more perplexing than the one involved in the subject of these prophecies. Paul declares to King Agrippa, "I say none other things than those which the prophets and Moses did say should come: that Christ should suffer, and that he should be the first that should rise from the dead and should show light unto the Gentiles." It is vain to attempt to disguise the fact that the ingenuous student cannot find these prophecies in the Old Testament as we now have it. He will search it through in vain, unless his eyes create what they see. Let any man endeavor to discover a passage in the Hebrew Scriptures which, taken with its context, can fairly bear such a sense. There is not a shadow of valid evidence of any kind to support the merely traditional notions on this subject. The only way of discerning predictions of a death, descent, and ascent, of the Messiah, in the law and the prophets, is by the application of Cabalistic methods of interpretation, theories of occult types, double senses, methods which now are not tolerable to intelligent men. That Rabbinical interpretation which made the story of Ishmael and Isaac, the two children borne to Abraham by Hagar and Sarah, an allegory referring to the two covenants of Judaism and Christianity, could easily extract any desired meaning from any given text. Bearing in mind the prevalence of this kind of exegesis among the Jews, and remembering also that they possessed in the times of Jesus a vast body of oral law, to which they attributed as great authority as to the written, there are two possible ways of honestly meeting the difficulty before us. First: in God's counsels it was determined that a Messiah should afterwards arise among the Jews. The revealed hope of this stirred the prophets and the popular heart. It became variously and vaguely hinted in their writings, still more variously and copiously unfolded in their traditions. The conception of him gradually took form; and they began to look for a warrior prophet, a national deliverer, a theocratic king. Jesus, being the true Messiah, though a very different personage from the one meant by the writers and understood by the people, yet being the Messiah foreordained by God, applied these Messianic passages to himself, and explained them according to his experience and fate. This will satisfactorily clear up the application of some texts. And others may be truly explained as poetical illustrations, rhetorical accommodations, as when he applies to Judas, at the Last Supper, the words of the Psalm, "He that eateth with me lifteth up his heel against me;" and when he refers to Jonah's tarry in the whale's belly as a symbol of his own destined stay beneath the grave for a similar length of time. Or, secondly, we may conclude that the prophecies under consideration, referred to in the New Testament, were not derived from any sacred documents now in our possession, but either from perished writings, or from oral sources, which we know were abundant then. Justin Martyr says there was formerly a passage in Jeremiah to this effect: "The Lord remembered the dead who were sleeping in the earth, and went down to them to preach salvation to them." 4 There were floating in the Jewish mind, at the time of Christ, at least some fragmentary traditions, vague expectations, that the Messiah was to die, descend to Sheol, rescue some of the captives, and triumphantly ascend. It is true, this statement is denied by some; but the weight of critical authorities seems to us to preponderate in its favor, and the intrinsic historical probabilities leave hardly a doubt of it in our own minds.5 Now, three alternatives are offered us. Either Jesus interpreted Moses, the Psalms, and the Prophets, on the Rabbinical ground of a double sense, with mystic applications; or he accepted the prophecies referred to, from oral traditions held by his countrymen; or the apostles misunderstood, and in consequence partially misreported, him. All we can positively say is that these precise predictions are plainly not in the Jewish Scriptures, undoubtedly were in the oral law, and were certainly received by the apostles as authoritative. Continuing our inquiry into the apostolic view of the resurrection of Christ, we shall perceive that it is most prominently set forth as the certificate of our redemption from the 4 Dial. cum Tryph. sect. lxxii. 5 Discussed, with full list of references, in Strauss's Life of Jesus, part iii. cap. i. sect. 112. kingdom of death to the same glorious destiny which awaited him upon his ascension into heaven. The apostles regarded his resurrection as a supernatural seal set on his mission, warranting his claims as an inspired deliverer and teacher. Thereby, they thought, God openly sanctioned and confirmed his promises. Thereby, they considered, was shown to men God's blessed grace, freely forgiving their sins, and securing to them, by this pledge, a deliverance from the doom of sin as he had risen from it, and an acceptance to a heavenly immortality as he had ascended to it. The resurrection of Christ, then, and not his death, was to them the point of vital interest, the hinge on which all hung. Does not the record plainly show this to an impartial reader? Wherever the apostles preach, whenever they write, they appeal not to the death of a veiled Deity, but to the resurrection of an appointed messenger; not to a vicarious atonement or purchase effected by the mortal sufferings of Jesus, but to the confirmation of the good tidings he brought, afforded by the Father's raising him from the dead. "Whereof he hath given assurance unto all, in that he hath raised him from the dead," Paul proclaimed on Mars Hill. In the discourses of the apostles recorded in the Book of Acts, we find that, when they preached the new religion to new audiences, the great doctrine in all cases set forth as fundamental and absorbing is the resurrection; not an atoning death, but a justifying resurrection. "He died for our sins, and rose for our justification." Some of the Athenians thought Paul "a setter forth of two strange gods, Jesus and Resurrection." And when they desire to characterize Christ, the distinguishing culminating phrase which they invariably select shows on what their minds rested as of chief import: they describe him as the one "whom God hath raised from the dead." "If we believe that Jesus died and rose again, even so them also which sleep in Jesus will God bring with him." "That ye may know what is the exceeding greatness of God's power toward us who believe, according to the working of his mighty power which he wrought in Christ when he raised him from the dead and set him at his own right hand in heaven." It is plain here that the dying of Christ is regarded merely as preliminary to his rising, and that his resurrection and entrance into heaven are received as an assurance that faithful disciples, too, shall obtain admission into the heavenly kingdom. The Calvinistic doctrine is that the unutterable vicarious agonies of the death of Christ placated the wrath of God, satisfied his justice, and ransomed the souls of the elect from the tortures of hell, and that his resurrection was simply his victorious return from a penal conflict with the powers of Satan. The Unitarian doctrine is that the violent death of Christ was an expression of self sacrificing love, to exert a moral power on the hearts of men, and that his resurrection was a miraculous proof of the authority and truth of his teachings, a demonstration of human immortality. We maintain that neither of these views fully contains the true representation of the New Testament. The artificial horrors of the former cannot be forced into nor wrung out of the written words; while the natural simplicity and meagerness of the latter cannot be made to fill up the written words with adequate significance. There is a medium doctrine, based on the conceptions prevalent at the time the Christian system was constructed and written; a doctrine which equally avoids the credulous excess of the Calvinistic interpretation and the skeptical poverty of the Unitarian; a doctrine which fully explains all the relevant language of the New Testament without violence; a doctrine which, for our own part, we feel sure accurately represents the ideas meant to be conveyed by the Scripture authors. We will state it, and then quote, for its illustration and for their own explanation, the principal texts relating to the resurrection of Jesus. On account of sin, which had alienated man from God and unfitted him for heaven, he was condemned after death to descend as a disembodied soul into the dark kingdom of the grave, the under world. In that cheerless realm of helpless shades and stillness all departed human spirits were prisoners, and must be, until the advent of the Messiah, when they, or a part of them, should rise. This was the Jewish belief. Now, the apostles were Jews, who had the ideas of their countrymen, to which, upon becoming Christians, they added the new conceptions formed in their minds by the teachings, character, deeds, death, resurrection, of Christ, mixed with their own meditations and experience. Accepting, with these previous notions, the resurrection of Christ as a fact and a fulfilment of prophecy, they immediately supposed that his triumphant exit from the prison of the dead and return to heaven were the prefiguration of the similar deliverance of others and their entrance into heaven. They considered him as "the first born from the dead," "the first fruits of the dead." They emphatically characterize his return to life as a "resurrection out from among the dead," "[non-ASCII characters], plainly implying that the rest of the dead still remained below.6 They received his experience in this respect as the revealing type of that which was awaiting his followers. So far as relates to the separate existence of the soul, the restoration of the widow's son by Elijah, or the resurrection of Lazarus, logically implies all that is implied in the mere resurrection of Christ. But certain notions of localities, of a redemptive ascent, and an opening of heaven for the redeemed spirits of men to ascend thither, were associated exclusively with the last. When, through the will of God, Christ rose, "then first humanity triumphant passed the crystal ports of light, and seized eternal youth!" Their view was not that Christ effected all this by means of his own; but that the free grace of God decreed it, and that Christ came to carry the plan into execution. "God, for his great love to us, even when we were dead in sins, has quickened us together with Christ." This was effected as in dramatic show: Christ died, which was suffering the fate of a sinner; he went in spirit to the subterranean abode of spirits, which was bearing the penalty of sin; he rose again, which was showing the penalty of sin removed by Divine forgiveness; he ascended into heaven, which was revealing the way for our ascent thrown open. Such is the general scope of thought in close and vital connection with which the doctrine of the resurrection of Christ stands. We shall spare enlarging on those parts of it which have been sufficiently proved and illustrated in preceding chapters, and confine our attention as much as may be to those portions which have direct relations with the resurrection of Christ. It is our object, then, to show what we think will plainly appear in the light of the above general statement that, to the New Testament writers, the resurrection, and not the death, of Christ is the fact of central moment, is the assuring seal of our forgiveness, reconciliation, and heavenly adoption. 6 Wood, The Last Things, pp. 31-44. They saw two antithetical starting points in the history of mankind: a career of ruin, beginning with condemned Adam in the garden of Eden at the foot of the forbidden tree, dragging a fleshly race down into Sheol; a career of remedy, beginning with victorious Christ in the garden of Joseph at the mouth of the rent sepulchre, guiding a spiritual race up into heaven. The Savior himself is reported as saying, "I lay down my life that I may take it again:" the dying was not for the sake of substitutional suffering, but for the sake of a resurrection. "Except a corn of wheat die, it abideth alone; but, if it die, it bringeth forth much fruit." "A woman when she is in travail hath sorrow; but as soon as she is delivered of the child she remembereth no more the anguish, for joy that a man is born into the world." The context here shows the Savior's meaning to be that the woe of his death would soon be lost in the weal of his resurrection. The death was merely the necessary antecedent to the significant resurrection. "Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who, according to his abundant mercy, hath begotten us again unto a living hope by the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead unto an inheritance, incorruptible, undefiled, and that fadeth not away, reserved in heaven for you who are kept by the power of God through faith unto salvation ready to be revealed." "Him hath God raised on high by his right hand, to give repentance to Israel and forgiveness of sins." How clear it is here that not the vicarious death of Christ buys off sinners, but his resurrection shows sins to be freely forgiven, the penalty remitted! "Remember that Jesus Christ was raised from the dead, according to my gospel: therefore I endure all things for the elect's sake, that they may obtain the salvation which is in Christ Jesus with eternal glory." "Be it known unto you, therefore, men, brethren, that through Him whom God raised again is preached unto you the forgiveness of sins." The passage in the Epistle to the Hebrews, ninth chapter, from the twenty third verse to the twenty seventh, most emphatically connects the annulling of sin through the sacrifice of Christ with his ascended appearance in heaven. "Jesus who was delivered for our offences and was raised again for our justification:" that is, Jesus died because he had entered the condition of sinful humanity, the penalty of which was death; he was raised to show that God had forgiven us our sins and would receive us to heaven instead of banishing us to the under world. "If thou shalt confess with thy mouth the Lord Jesus, and shalt believe in thine heart that God hath raised him from the dead, thou shalt be saved." Belief in the resurrection of Christ is here undeniably made the great condition of salvation. No text can be found in which belief in the death, or blood, or atoning merits, of Christ is made that condition. And yet nine tenths of Christendom by their creeds are to day proclaiming, "Believe in the vicarious sufferings of Christ, and thou shalt be saved; believe not in them, and thou shalt be damned!" "God hath both raised up the Lord and will also raise up us." "If Christ be not raised, your faith is vain: ye are yet in your sins." This text cannot be explained upon the common Calvinistic or Unitarian theories. Whether Christ was risen or not made no difference in their justification before God if his death had atoned for them, made no difference in their moral condition, which was as it was; but if Christ had not risen, then they were mistaken in supposing that heaven had been opened for them: they were yet held in the necessity of descending to the under world, the penalty of their sins. The careful reader will observe that, in many places in the Scriptures where a burden and stress of importance seem laid upon the death of Christ, there immediately follows a reference to his resurrection, showing that the dying is only referred to as the preparatory step to the rising, the resurrection being the essential thing. "The Apostle Paul scarcely speaks of the death of the Savior except in connection with his resurrection," Bleek says, in his Commentary on the Epistle to the Hebrews. "It is Christ that died, yea, rather, that is risen again and is now at the right hand of God." "If we believe that Jesus died and rose again." "To this end Christ both died, and rose and lived again." "He died for them and rose again." We confidently avow, therefore, that the Christian Scriptures concentrate the most essential significance and value of the mission of Jesus in his resurrection, describing it as the Divine seal of his claims, the visible proof and pledge of our redemption, by God's freely forgiving grace, from the fatal bondage of death's sepulchral domain to the blessed splendors of heaven's immortal life. There remain a class of passages to be particularly noticed, in which an extraordinary emphasis seems to be laid on Christ's sufferings, Christ's blood, Christ's death, three phrases that mean virtually the same thing and are used interchangeably. The peculiar prominence given to the idea of the sacrifice of Christ in the instances now referred to is such as might lead one to suppose that some mysterious efficacy was meant to be attributed to it. But we think an accurate examination of the subject will show that these texts are really in full harmony with the view we have been maintaining. Admitting that the resurrection of Christ was the sole circumstance of ultimate meaning and importance, still, his violent and painful death would naturally be spoken of as often and strongly as it is, for two reasons. First, the chief ground of wonder and claim for gratitude to him was that he should have left his pre existent state of undisturbed bliss and glory, and submitted to such humiliation and anguish for others, for sinners. Secondly, it was the prerequisite to his resurrection, the same, in effect, with it, since the former must lead to the latter; for, as the foremost apostle said, "It was not possible that he should be holden in death." The apostolical writers do not speak of salvation by the blood of Christ any more plainly than they do of salvation by the name of Christ, salvation by grace, and salvation by faith. If at one time they identify him with the sacrificial "lamb," at another time they as distinctively identify him with the "high priest offering himself," and again with "the great Shepherd of the sheep," and again with "the mediator of the new covenant," and again with "the second Adam." These are all figures of speech, and, taken superficially, they determine nothing as to doctrine. The propriety and the genuine character and force of the metaphor are in each case to be carefully sought with the lights of learning and under the guidance of a docile candor. The thoughts that, in consequence of transmitted sin, all departed souls of men were confined in the under world that Christ, to carry out and revealingly exemplify the free grace of the Father, came into the world, died a cruel death, descended to the prison world of the dead, declared there the glad tidings, rose thence and ascended into heaven, the forerunner of the ransomed hosts to follow, these thoughts enable us to explain, in a natural, forcible, and satisfactory manner, the peculiar phraseology of the New Testament in regard to the death of Christ, without having recourse to the arbitrary conceptions and mystical horror usually associated with it now. For instance, consider the passage in the second chapter of the Epistle to the Ephesians, from the eleventh verse to the nineteenth. The writer here says that "the Gentiles, who formerly were far off, strangers from the covenants of promise, are now made nigh by the blood of Christ." This language he clearly explains as meaning that through the death and resurrection of Christ "the middle wall of partition between Jews and Gentiles was broken down" and a universal religion inaugurated, free from all invidious distinctions and carnal ordinances. In his bodily death and spiritual ascension the Jewish ritual law was abolished and the world wide moral law alone installed. From his spirit, rising into heaven, all national peculiarities fell away, and through him Jews and Gentiles both had access, by communion with his ascended and cosmopolitan soul, unto the Father. A careful study of all the passages in the New Testament which speak of Christ as delivering men from the wrath of God will lead, it seems to us, almost every unprejudiced person to agree with one of the ablest German critics, who says that "the technical phrase 'wrath of God' here means, historically, banishment of souls into the under world, and that the fact of Christ's triumph and ascent was a precious pledge showing to the Christians that they too should ascend to eternal life in heaven."7 The doctrine of the descent of Christ among the dead and of his redemptive mission there has of late wellnigh faded from notice; but if any one wishes to see the evidence of its universal reception and unparalleled importance in the Christian Church for fifteen hundred years, presented in overwhelming quantity and irresistible array, let him read the learned work devoted to this subject recently published in Germany.8 He can hardly peruse this work and follow up its references without seeing that, almost without an exception, from the days of Peter and Paul to those of Martin Luther, it has been held that "the death and resurrection of Christ are the two poles between which," as Guder says, "his descent into the under world lies." The phrase "blood of Christ" is often used in Scripture in a pregnant sense, including the force of meaning that would be expressed by his death, descent, resurrection, and ascension, with all their concomitants. As a specimen of innumerable passages of like import which might be cited, we will quote a single expression from Epiphanius, showing that the orthodox teachers in the fourth century attributed redeeming efficacy to Christ's resurrection rather than to his death." As the pelican restores its dead offspring by dropping its own blood upon their wounds, so our Lord Jesus Christ dropped his blood upon Adam, Eve, and all the dead, and gave them life by his burial and resurrection." 9 It was a part of the Mosaic ritual, laid down in the sixteenth chapter of Leviticus, that on the great annual day of expiation there should be two goats chosen by lot, one for the Lord and one for Azazel. The former the high priest was to slay, and with his blood sprinkle 7 Bretschneider, Religiose Glaubenslehre, sect. 59: Christus der Erloser vom Tode. 8 Guder, Die Lehre von der Erscheinung Jesu Christi unter den Todten: In ihrem Zusammenhange mit der Lehre von den Letzten Dingen. 9 Physiol., cap. 8: De Pelecano. the mercy seat. The latter, when the high priest's hands had been laid on his head and all the iniquities of the children of Israel confessed over him, was to be sent into the wilderness and loosed. The former goat is called "a sin offering for the people." The latter is called "a scape goat to make an atonement with the Lord." The blood of the sin offering could not have been supposed to be a substitute purchasing the pardon of men's offences, because there is no hint of any such idea in the record, and because it was offered to reconcile "houses," "tabernacles," "altars," as well as to reconcile men. It had simply a ceremonial significance. Such rites were common in many of the early religions. They were not the efficient cause of pardon, but were the formal condition of reconciliation. And then, in regard to the scapegoat, it was not sacrificed as an expiation for sinners; it merely symbolically carried off the sins already freely forgiven. All these forms and phrases were inwrought with the whole national life and religious language of the Jews. Now, when Jesus appeared, a messenger from God, to redeem men from their sins and to promise them pardon and heaven, and when he died a martyr's death in the fulfilment of his mission, how perfectly natural that this sacrificial imagery these figures of blood, propitiation, sprinkling the mercy seat should be applied to him, and to his work and fate! The burden of sins forgiven by God's grace in the old covenant the scape goat emblematically bore away, and the people went free. So if the words must be supposed to have an objective and not merely a moral sense when the Baptist cried, "Behold the Lamb of God, that beareth off the sin of the world," his meaning was that Jesus was to bear off the penalty of sin that is, the Hadean doom which God's free grace had annulled and open heaven to the ranks of reconciled souls. There is not the least shadow of proof that the sacrifices in the Mosaic ritual were Divinely ordained as types pre figuring the great sacrifice of Christ. There is no such pretence in the record, no such tradition among the people, not the slightest foundation whatever of any sort to warrant that arbitrary presumption. All such applications of them are rhetorical; and their historical force and moral meaning are clearly explicable on the views which we have presented in the foregoing pages, but are most violently strained and twisted by the Calvinistic theory to meet the severe exigencies of a theoretical dogma. If any one, granting that the central efficacy of the mission of Christ, dogmatically and objectively considered, lay in his descent into Hades and in his resurrection, maintains that still certain passages in the New Testament do ascribe an expiatory effect directly to his death as such, we reply that this interpretation is quite likely to be correct. And we can easily trace the conception to its origin beyond the pale of revelation. It was an idea prevalent among the Jews in the time of the apostles, and before, that death was an atonement for all sins, and that the death of the righteous atoned for the sins of others.10 Now, the apostles might adopt this view and apply it pre eminently to the case of Christ. This is the very explanation given by Origen.11 De Wette quotes the following sentence, and many others of the same purport, 10 Gfrorer, Gesehichte des Urchristenthums, abth. ii. pp. 187 190. 11 Mosheim, Commentaries on Christianity in the First Three Centuries, Eng. trans., vol. ii. pp. 162-163. from the Talmud: "The death of the just is the redemption of sinners."12 The blood of any righteous man was a little atonement; that of Christ was a vast one. The former all Protestants call a heathen error. So they should the latter, because it sprung from the same source and is the same in principle. If, then, there are any scriptural texts which imply that the mere death of Christ had a vicarious, expiatory efficacy, they are, so far forth, the reflection of heathen and Jewish errors yet lingering in the minds of the writers, and not the inspired revelation of an isolated, arbitrary after expedient contrived in the secret counsels of God and wonderfully interpolated into the providential history of the world. But, if there are any such passages, they are few and unimportant. The great mass of the scriptural language on this subject is fairly and fully explained by the historical theory whose outlines we have sketched. The root of the matter is the resurrection of Christ out from among the dead and his ascent into heaven. It has not been our purpose in this chapter, or in the preceding chapters, to present the history of the Christian doctrine of the atonement, either in its intrinsic significance or in its relations to subjective religious experience. We have only sought to explain it, according to the original understanding of it, in its objective relations to the fate of men in the future life. The importance of the subject, its difficulty, and the profound prejudices connected with it, are so great as not only to excuse, but even to require, much explanatory repetition to make the truth clear and to recommend it, in many lights, with various methods, and by accumulated authorities. Those who wish to see the whole subject of the atonement treated with consummate fulness and ability, leaving nothing to be desired from the historical point of view, have only to read the masterly work of Baur.13 In leaving this part of our subject here, we would submit the following considerations to the candid judgment of the reader. Admitting the truth of the common doctrine of the atonement, why did Christ die? It does not appear how there could be any particular efficacy in mere death. The expiation of sin which he had undertaken required only a certain amount of suffering. It did not as far as we can see on the theory of satisfaction by an equivalent substituted suffering require death. It seems as if local and physical ideas must have been associated with the thought of his death. And we find the author of the Epistle to the Hebrews thus replying to the question, Why did Christ die? "That through death he might destroy him that hath the power of death, that is, the devil, and deliver those who through fear of death were all their lifetime subject to bondage." Now, plainly, this end was accomplished by his resurrection bursting asunder the bonds of Hades and showing that it was no longer the hopeless prison of the dead. The justice of this explanation appears from the logical necessity of the series of ideas, the internal coherence and harmony of thought. It has been ably shown that substantially this view is the accurate interpretation of the New Testament doctrine by 12 Comm. de Morte Christi Expiatoria, cap. iii.: Qua Judaorum Recentiorum Christologia de Passione ac Morte Messia docet. 13 Die Christliche Lehre von der Versohnung in ihrer Geschichtlichen Entwicklung von der Alteaten Zeit bis auf die Neueste. Steinbart,14 Schott,15 Bretschneider,16 Klaiber,17 and others. The gradual deviations from this early view can be historically traced, step by step, through the refining speculations of theologians. First, in ecclesiastical history, after the New Testament times, it is thought the devil has a right over all souls in consequence of sin. Christ is a ransom offered to the devil to offset his claim. Sometimes this is represented as a fair bargain, sometimes as a deception practised on the devil, sometimes as a battle waged with him. Next, it is conceived that the devil has no right over human souls, that it is God who has doomed them to the infernal prison and holds them there for their sin. Accordingly, the sacrifice of Christ for their ransom is offered not to the tyrannical devil but to the offended God. Finally, in the progress of culture, the satisfaction theory appears; and now the suffering of Christ is neither to buy souls from the devil nor to appease God and soften his anger into forgiveness; but it is to meet the inexorable exigencies of the abstract law of infinite justice and deliver sinners by bearing for them the penalty of sin. The whole course of thought, once commenced, is natural, inevitable; but the starting point is from an error, and the pausing places are at false goals. The view which we have asserted to be the scriptural view prevailed as the orthodox doctrine of the Church throughout the first three centuries, as Bahr has proved in his valuable treatise on the subject.18 He shows that during that period Christ's death was regarded as a revelation of God's love, a victory over the devil, (through his resurrection,) a means of obtaining salvation for men, but not as a punitive sacrifice, not as a vindication of God's justice, not as a vicarious satisfaction of the law.19 If the leading theologians of Christendom, such as Anselm, Calvin, and Grotius, have so thoroughly repudiated the original Christian and patristic doctrine of the atonement, and built another doctrine upon their own uninspired speculations, why should our modern sects defer so slavishly to them, and, instead of freely investigating the subject for themselves from the first sources of Scripture and spiritual philosophy, timidly cling to the results reached by these biassed, morbid, and over sharp thinkers? In proportion as scholarly, unfettered minds engage in such a criticism, we believe the exposition given in the foregoing pages will be recognised as scriptural. Without involving this whole theory, how can any one explain the unquestionable fact that during the first four centuries the entire orthodox Church believed that Christ at his resurrection from the under world delivered Adam from his imprisonment there?20 All acknowledge that the phrase "redemption by the blood of Christ" is a metaphor. The only question is, what meaning was it intended to convey? We maintain its meaning to be that 14 System der Reinen Philosophie, oder Gluckseligkeitslehre des Christenthums, u.s.f. 15 Epitome Theologia Christiana Dogmatica. 16 Die Lehren von Adam's Fall, der Erbsunde, und dem Opfer Christi. 17 Studien der Evang. Geietlichkeit Wurtemburgs, viii. 1, 2. Doederlein, Morus, Knapp, Schwarze, and Reinhard affirm that the death of Christ was not the price of our pardon, but the confirming declaration of free pardon from God. Hagenbach, Dogmengeschichte, sect. 297, note 5. 18 Die Lehre der Kirche vom Tode Jesu in den Ersten Drei Jahrhunderteu. 19 Die Lehre der Kirche vom Tode Jesu in den Ersten Drei Jahrhunderten, ss. 176-180. 20 Augustine, Epist. ad Evodium 99. Op. Imp. vi. 22, 30. Epist. 164. Dante makes Adam say he had been 4302 years in Limbo when Christ, at his descent, rescued him. Paradise, canto xxvi. through all the events and forces associated with the death of Christ, including his descent to Hades and his resurrection, men are delivered from the doom of the under world. The common theology explains it as teaching that there was an expiatory efficacy in the unmerited sufferings of Christ. The system known as Unitarianism says it denotes merely the exertion of a saving spiritual power on the hearts of men. The first interpretation charges the figure of speech with a dramatic revelation of the love of God freely rescuing men from their inherited fate. The second seems to make it a tank of gore, where Divine vengeance legally laps to appease its otherwise insatiable appetite. The third fills it with a regenerative moral influence to be distributed upon the characters of believers. The two former also include the last; but it excludes them. Now, as it seems to us, the first is the form of mistake in which the early Church, including the apostles, embodied the true significance of the mission of Christ. Owing to the circle of ideas in which they lived, this was the only possible form in which the disciples of Jesus could receive the new doctrine of a blessed immortality brought to light by Christianity.21 The second is the form of false theory in which a few scholastic brains elaborated the cruel results of their diseased metaphysical speculations. The third is the dry, meager, inadequate statement of the most essential truth in the case. There is one more point of view in which the New Testament holds up the resurrection of Christ. It is regarded as a summons to a moral and spiritual resurrection within the breast of the believer. As the great Forerunner had ascended to a spiritual and immortal life in the heavens, so his followers should be inspired with such a realizing sense of heavenly things, with such Divine faith and fellowship, as would lift them above the world, with all its evanescent cares, and fix their hearts with God. This high communion with Christ, and intense assurance of a destined speedy inheritance with him, should render the disciple insensible to the clamorous distractions of earth, invulnerable to the open and secret assaults of sin, as if in the body he were already dead, and only alive in the spirit to the obligations of holiness, the attractions of piety, and the promises of heaven. "When we were dead in trespasses and sins, God loved us, and hath quickened us together with Christ, and hath raised us up together and made us sit together in heavenly places." "If ye, then, be risen with Christ, set your affection on things above, not on earthly things; for ye are dead, and your life is hid with Christ in God." This moral symbolic application of the resurrection is most beautiful and effective. Christ has risen, immaculate and immortal, into the pure and holy heaven: then live virtuously and piously, that you may be found worthy to be received unto him. "He that hath this hope purifieth himself, even as He is pure." Paul enforces this thought through the striking figure that, since "we are freed from the law through the death of Christ, we should be married to his risen spirit and bring forth fruit unto God." And again, when he speaks in these words, "Christ in you the hope of glory," we suppose he refers to the spiritual image of the risen Redeemer formed in the disciples' imagination and heart, the prefiguring and witnessing pledge of their ascension also to heaven. The same practical use is made of the doctrine through the rite and sign of baptism. "Ye are buried with Christ in 21 Bretschneider forcibly illustrates this in his Handbuch der Dogmatik der Evang. Luther. Kirche, sects. 156-158, band ii. baptism, wherein also ye are risen with him through faith in the working of God, who hath raised him from the dead." "Wherefore, if ye be dead with Christ, why are ye subject to worldly ordinances? and if ye be risen with him, seek those things which are above." When the disciple sunk beneath the baptizing waters, he was typically dead and buried, as Jesus was in the tomb; when he rose from the waters into the air again, he figuratively represented Christ rising from the dead into heaven. Henceforth, therefore, he was to consider himself as dead to all worldly sins and lusts, alive to all heavenly virtues and aspirations. "Therefore," the apostle says, "we are buried with Christ by baptism unto death, that like as Christ was raised up from the dead, even so we should walk in newness of life." "In that Christ died, he died unto sin once; but in that he liveth, he liveth unto God. Likewise reckon ye also yourselves to be dead indeed unto sin, but alive unto God." "Therefore, if any man be in Christ, he is a new creature: old things are passed away; behold, all things are become new." This was strictly true to the immediate disciples of Jesus. When he died, their hearts died within them; they shrank away in hopeless confusion and gloom. When he returned to life and ascended to heaven, in feeling and imagination they went with him. Every moral power and motive started into new life and energy. "The day when from the dead Our Lord arose, then everywhere, Out of their darkness and despair, Triumphant over fears and foes, The souls of his disciples rose." An unheard of assurance of the Father's love and of their eternal inheritance flooded their being with its regenerating, uplifting power. To their absorbing anticipations the mighty consummation of all was at hand. In reflective imagination it was already past, and they, dead to the world, only lived to God. The material world and the lust thereof had sunk beneath them and vanished. They were moving in the universe of imperishable realities unseen by the fleshly eye. To their faith already was unrolled over them that new firmament in whose spanless welkin no cloudy tempests ever gather and break, and the serene lights never fade nor go down. This experience of a spiritual exaltation above the sins and degrading turmoils of passion, above the perishing baubles of the earth, into the religious principles which are independent and assured, peace, and bliss, and eternity, is attainable by all who with the earnestness of their souls assimilate the moral truths of Christianity, pressing in pious trust after the steps of the risen Master. And this, after all, is the vital essence of the doctrine of the resurrection as it makes practical appeal to us. This will stand, though gnawing time and hostile criticism should assail and shake all the rest. It is something not to be mechanically wrought upon us from without, but to be done within by our own voluntary effort and prayer, by God's help. To rise from sloth, unbelief, sin, from moral death, to earnestness, faith, beneficence, to eternal life in the breast, is a real and most sublime resurrection, the indispensable preparation for that other and final one which shall raise us from the sepulchre to the sky. When, on Easter morning, Christian disciples throughout the world hear the joyous cry, "Christ is risen," and their own hearts instinctively respond, with an unquenchable persuasion that he is now alive somewhere in the heights of the universe, "Christ is risen indeed," they should endeavor in spirit to rise too, rise from the deadly bondage and corruption of vice and indifference. While the earth remains, and men survive, and the evils which alienate them from God and his blessedness retain any sway over them, so oft as that hallowed day comes round, this is the kindling message of Divine authority ever fresh, and of transcendent import never old, that it bears through all the borders of Christendom to every responsible soul: "Awake from your sleep, arise from your death, lift up your eyes to heaven, and the risen Redeemer will give you the light of immortal life!" Have this awakening and deathless experience in the soul, and you will be troubled by no doubts about an everlasting life succeeding the close of the world. But so long as this spiritual resurrection in the breast is unknown, you can have no knowledge of eternal life, no experimental faith in a future entrance from the grave into heaven, no, not though millions of resurrections had crowded the interstellar space with ascending shapes. Rise, then, from your moral graves, and already, by faith and imagination, sit in heavenly places with Christ Jesus. Before leaving this subject, it belongs to us to look at it as a theory; that is, to consider with critical scrutiny the conclusions which are supposed to flow from its central fact. We must regard it from three distinct points of view, seeking its meaning in sound logic, its force in past history, its value in present experience. First, then, we are to inquire what really is the logical significance of the resurrection of Christ. The looseness and confusion of thought prevailing in relation to this point are amazing. It seems as if mankind were contented with investigations careless, reasonings incoherent, and inferences arbitrary, in proportion to the momentousness of the matter in hand. In regard to little details of sensible fact and daily business their observation is sharp, their analysis careful, their reflection patient; but when they approach the great problems of morality, God, immortality, they shrink from commensurate efforts to master those mighty questions with stern honesty, and remain satisfied with fanciful methods and vague results. The resurrection of Christ is generally regarded as a direct demonstration of the immortality of man, an argument of irrefragable validity. But this is an astonishing mistake. The argument was not so constructed by Paul. He did not seek directly to prove the immortality of the soul, but the resurrection of the dead. He took for granted the Pharisaic doctrine that all souls on leaving their bodies descended to Sheol, where they darkly survived, waiting to be summoned forth at the arrival of the Messianic epoch. Assuming the further premise that Christ after death went down among these imprisoned souls, and then rose thence again, Paul infers, by a logical process strictly valid and irresistible to one holding those premises, that the general doctrine of a resurrection from the dead is true, and that by this visible pledge we may expect it soon, since the Messiah, who is to usher in its execution, has already come and finished the preliminary stages of his work. The apostle's own words plainly show this to be his meaning. "If there be no resurrection of the dead, then is Christ not risen. But now is Christ risen from the dead, become the first fruits of them that slept. For since by man came death, by man came also the resurrection of the dead. Every man shall be made alive in his own order: Christ the first fruits; then they that are Christ's, at his coming; then the last remnant, when he shall have delivered up the kingdom to God." The notions of a universal imprisonment of souls in the intermediate state, and of a universal raising of them thence at an appointed time, having faded from a deep and vivid belief into a cold traditional dogma, ridiculed by many, cared for at all by few, realizingly held by almost none, Paul's argument has been perverted and misinterpreted, until it is now commonly supposed to mean this: Christ has risen from the dead: therefore the soul of man is immortal. Whereas the argument really existed in his mind in the reverse form, thus: The souls of men are immortal and are hereafter to be raised up: therefore Christ has risen as an example and illustration thereof. It is singular to notice that he has himself clearly stated the argument in this form three times within the space of four consecutive verses, as follows: "If there be no resurrection of the dead, then is Christ not risen:" "God raised Christ not up, if so be that the dead rise not." "For if the dead rise not, then is Christ not raised." The fact of the resurrection of Christ, taken in connection with the related notions previously held in the mind of Paul, formed the complement of an irresistible argument to prove the impending resurrection of the dead, But if it be now perceived that those other notions were Pharisaic errors, the argument, as he employed it, falls to the ground. Taken by itself and analyzed by a severe logic, the resurrection of Christ proves nothing conclusively in regard to our immortality. If it did of itself prove any thing, the direct logical inference from it would be that henceforth all men, three days after death, would rise bodily from the dead, appear for a season on earth as before, and then ascend visibly into the sky. If at the present time a man who had been put to death and entombed three days should openly come forth alive, considered as an isolated fact, what would it prove? It would merely prove that a wonderful event had occurred. It would show that either by some mysterious means he had escaped death, or else that by some apparently preternatural agency he had been restored to life from the dead. Taken by itself, it could not prove whether the occurrence was caused by a demoniacal or by a Divine power, or by some occult force of nature developed by a peculiar combination of conditions. The strange event would stand clear to our senses; but all beyond that would be but an hypothesis of our own, and liable to mistake. Consequently, we say, the resurrection, taken by itself, proves no doctrine. But we may so suppose the case that such an event would, from its relation to something else, acquire logical meaning. For instance, if Christ had taught that he had supernatural knowledge of truth, a Divine commission to reveal a future life, and said that, after he should have been dead and buried three days, God would restore him to life to authenticate his words, and if, then, so stupendous a miracle occurred in accordance with his prediction, it would prove that his claims and doctrine were true, because God is no accomplice in deception. Such was the case with Jesus as narrated; and thus his resurrection appears, not as having doctrinal significance and demonstrative validity in itself, but as a miraculous authentication of his mission. That is to say, the Christian's faith in immortality rests not directly on the resurrection of Christ, but on his teachings, which were confirmed and sealed by his resurrection. It is true that, even in this modified form, some persons of dialectical minds will deny all validity to the argument. What necessary connection is there, they will ask, between the exhibition of mechanico chemical wonders, physical feats, however abnormal and inexplicable, and the possession of infallibility of intellectual insight and moral utterance? If a man should say, God is falsehood and hatred, and in evidence of his declaration should make a whole cemetery disembogue its dead alive, or cause the sun suddenly to sink from its station at noon and return again, would his wonderful performance prove his horrible doctrine? Why, or how, then, would a similar feat prove the opposite doctrine? Plainly, there is not, on rigid logical principles, any connecting tie or evidencing coherence between a physical miracle and a moral doctrine.22 We admit the correctness of this, on philosophical grounds. But the validity of a miracle as proof of a doctrine rests on the spontaneous assumption that no man can work a miracle unless God specially delegate him the power: thereby God becomes the voucher of his envoy. And when a person claiming to be a messenger from God appears, saying, "The Father hath commanded me to declare that in the many mansions of his house there is a blessed life for men after the close of this life," and when he promises that, in confirmation of his claim, God will restore him to life after he shall have been three days dead, and when he returns accordingly triumphant from the sepulchre, the argument will be unquestioningly received as valid by the instinctive common sense of all who are convinced of the facts. We next pass from the meaning of the resurrection in logic to its force and working in history. When Jesus hung on the cross, and the scornful shouts of the multitude murmured in his ears, the disciples had fled away, disappointed, terror stricken, despairing. His star seemed set in a hopeless night of shame and defeat. The new religion appeared a failure. But in three days affairs had taken a new aspect. He that was crucified had risen, and the scattered disciples rallied from every quarter, and, animated by faith and zeal, went forth to convert the world. As an organic centre of thought and belief, as a fervid and enduring incitement to action, in the apostolic times and all through the early centuries, the received fact of the resurrection of Christ wielded an incomparable influence and produced incalculable results. Christianity indeed rose upon it, and, to a great extent, flourished through it. The principal effect which the gospel has had in bringing life and immortality to light throughout a large part of the world is to be referred to the proclaimed resurrection of Christ. For without the latter the former would not have been. Its historical value has therefore been immense. More than nine tenths of the dormant common faith of Christendom in a future life now outwardly reposes on it from tradition and custom. The great majority of Christians grow up, by education and habit, without any sharp conscientious investigation of their own, to an undisturbed belief in immortality, a belief passively resting on the demonstration of the doctrine supposed to have been furnished by the resurrection of Christ in Judea two thousand years ago. The historical power of that fact has therefore been inexpressibly important; and its vast and happy consequences as food and basis of faith still remain. But this historic force is no longer what it once was as a living and present cause. It now operates mostly through traditional reception as an established doctrine to be taken 22 J. Blanco White, Letter on Miracles, in appendix to Martineau's Rationale of Religious Inquiry. for granted, without fresh individual inquiry. Education and custom use it as an unexamined but trusted foundation to build on by common assumptions. And so the historic impetus is not yet spent. But it certainly has diminished; and it will diminish more. When faced with dauntless eyes and approached by skeptical methods, it of course cannot have the silencing, all sufficient authority, now that it is buried in the dim remoteness of nineteen centuries and surrounded by obscuring accompaniments, that it had when its light blazed close at hand. The historical force of the alleged resurrection of Christ must evidently, other things being equal, lessen to an unprejudiced inquirer in some proportion to the lengthening distance of the event from him in time, and the growing difficulties of ignorance, perplexity, doubt, manifold uncertainty, deficiency, infidel suggestions, and naturalistic possibilities, intervening between it and him. The shock of faith given by the miracle is dissipated in coming through such an abyss of time. The farther off and the longer ago it was, the more chances for error and the more circumstances of obscurity there are, and so much the worth and force of the historical belief in it will naturally become fainter, till they will finally fade away. An honest student may bow humbly before the august front of Christian history and join with the millions around in acknowledging the fact of the resurrection of Christ. But we maintain that the essential fact in this historic act is not the visible resuscitation of the dead body, but the celestial reception of the deathless spirit. So Paul evidently thought; for he had never seen Christ in the flesh, yet he places himself, as a witness to the resurrection of Christ, in the same rank with those who had seen him on his reappearance in the body: "Last of all he was seen of me also." Paul had only seen him in vision as a glorified spirit of heaven. We know that our belief in the fleshly resurrection of Jesus rests on education and habit, on cherished associations of reverence and attachment, rather than on sifted testimony and convincing proof. It is plain, too, that if a person takes the attitude, not of piety and receptive trust, but of skeptical antagonism, it is impossible, as the facts within our reach are to day, to convince him of the asserted reality in question. An unprejudiced mind competently taught and trained for the inquiry, but whose attitude towards the declared fact is that of distrust, a mind which will admit nothing but what is conclusively proved, cannot be driven from its position by all the extant material of evidence. Education, associations, hopes, affections, leaning that way, he may be convinced; but leaning the other way, or poised in indifference on a severe logical ground, he will honestly remain in his unbelief despite of all the arguments that can be presented. In the first place, he will say, "The only history we have of the resurrection is in the New Testament; and the testimony of witnesses in their own cause is always suspicious; and it is wholly impossible now really to prove who wrote those documents, or precisely when and how they originated: besides that, the obvious discrepancies in the accounts, and the utterly uncritical credulity and unscientific modes of investigation which satisfied the writers, destroy their value as witnesses in any severe court of reason." And in reply, although we may claim that there is sufficient evidence to satisfy an humble Christian, previously inclined to such a faith, that the New Testament documents were written by the persons whose names they bear, and that their accounts are true, yet we cannot pretend that there is sufficient evidence effectually to convince a critical inquirer that there is no possibility of ungenuineness and unauthenticity. In the second place, such a person will say, "Many fabulous miracles have been eagerly credited by contemporaries of their professed authors, and handed down to the credulity of after times; many actual events, honestly, interpreted as miracles, without fraud in any party concerned, have been so accepted and testified to. Roman Catholic Christendom claims to this day the performance of miracles within the Church; while all Protestant Christendom scouts them as ridiculous tales: and this may be one of them. How can we demonstrate that it does not fall within the same class on the laws of evidence?" And although our own moral beliefs and sympathies may force upon us the most profound conviction to the contrary, it is plainly out of our power to disprove the possibility of this hypothesis being true. In the third place, he will say, "Of all who testify to the resurrection, there is nothing in the record admitting its entire reliableness as an ingenuous statement of the facts as apprehended by the authors to show that any one of them knew that Jesus was actually dead, or that any one of them made any real search into that point. He may have revived from a long insensibility, wandered forth in his grave clothes, mingled afterwards with his disciples, and at last have died from his wounds and exhaustion, in solitude, as he was used to spend seasons in lonely prayer by night. Then, with perfectly good faith, his disciples, involving no collusion or deceit anywhere, may have put a miraculous interpretation upon it all, such additional particulars as his visible ascension into the sky being a later mythical accretion." This view may well seem offensive, even shocking, to the pious believer; but it is plainly possible. It is intrinsically more easily conceivable than the accredited miracle. It is impossible positively to refute it: the available data do not exist. Upon the whole, then, we conclude that the time is coming when the basis of faith in immortality, in order to stand the tests of independent scrutiny, must be historically as well as logically shifted from a blind dependence on the miraculous resurrection of Christ to a wise reliance on insight into the supernatural capacity and destiny of man, on the deductions of moral reason and the prophecies of religious trust. Finally, we pause a moment, in closing this discussion, to weigh the practical value of the resurrection of Christ as acknowledged in the experience of the present time. How does that event, admitted as a fact, rest in the average personal experience of Christians now? We shall provoke no intelligent contradiction when we say that it certainly does not often rest on laborious research and rigorous testing of evidence. We surely risk nothing in saying that with the multitude of believers it rests on a docile reception of tradition, an unquestioning conformity to the established doctrine. And that reception and conformity in the present instance depend, we shall find by going a step further back, upon a deep a priori faith in God and immortality. When Paul reasons that, if the dead are not to rise, Christ is not risen, but that the dead are to rise, and therefore Christ is risen, his argument reposes on a spontaneous practical method of moral assumption, not on a judicial process of logical proof. So is it with Christians now. The intense moral conviction that God is good, and that there is another life, and that it would be supremely worthy of God to send a messenger to teach that doctrine and to rise from the dead in proof of it, it is this earnest previous faith that gives plausibility, vitality, and power to the preserved tradition of the actual event. If we trace the case home to the last resort, as it really lies in the experience developed in us by Christianity, we shall find that a deep faith in God is the basis of our belief, first in general immortality, and secondly in the special resurrection of Christ as related thereto. But, by a confusion, or a want, of thought, the former is mistakenly supposed to rest directly and solely on the latter. The doctrinal inferences built up around the resurrection of Christ fall within the province of faith, resting on moral grounds, not within that of knowledge, resting on logical grounds. For example: what direct proof is there that Christ, when he vanished from the disciples, went to the presence of God in heaven, to die no more? It was only seen that he disappeared: all beyond that except as it rests on belief in the previous words of Christ himself is an inference of faith, a faith kindled in the soul by God and not created by the miracle of the resurrection. That imagination, tradition, feeling, and faith, have much more to do with the inferences commonly drawn from the resurrection of Christ than any strict investigation of its logical contents has, appears clearly enough from the universal neglect to draw any inferences from, or to attribute any didactic importance to, the other resurrections recorded in the New Testament. We refer especially to the resurrection narrated in the twenty seventh chapter of Matthew, "the most stupendous miracle ever wrought upon earth," it has been termed; and yet hardly any one ever deigns to notice it. Thus the evangelist writes: "And the graves were opened, and many bodies of the saints which slept arose and came out of the graves after his resurrection, and went into the holy city, and appeared unto many." Nothing is inferred from this alleged event but the power of God. Yet logically what separates it from the resurrection of Christ? In Greece there was the accredited account of the resurrection of Er, in Persia that of Viraf, in Judea that of Lazarus, in other nations those of other persons. None of these ever produced great results. Yet the resurrection of one individual from the dead logically contains all that that of any other individual can. Why, then, has that of Christ alone made such a change in the faith of the world? Because, through a combination of causes, it has appealed to the imagination and heart of the world and stirred their believing activity, because the thought was here connected with a person, a history, a moral force, and a providential interposition, fit for the grandest deductions and equal to the mightiest effects. It is not accurate philosophical criticism that has done this, but humble love and faith. In the experience of earnest Christians, a personal belief in the resurrection of Christ, vividly conceived in the imagination and taken home to the heart, is chiefly effective in its spiritual, not in its argumentative, results. It stirs up the powers and awakens the yearnings of the soul, opens heaven to the gaze, locates there, as it were visibly, a glorious ideal, and thus helps one to enter upon an inward realization of the immortal world. The one essential thing is not that Jesus appeared alive in the flesh after his physical death, the revealer of superhuman power and possessor of infallibility, but that he divinely lives now, the forerunner and type of our immortality. CHAPTER VIII. ESSENTIAL CHRISTIAN DOCTRINE OF DEATH AND LIFE. LET US first notice the uncommon amount of meaning which Christ and the apostolic writers usually put into the words "death," "life," and other kindred terms. These words are scarcely ever used in their merely literal sense, but are charged with a vivid fulness of significance not to be fathomed without especial attention. "If thou wilt enter into life, keep the commandments." Obviously this means more than simple life; because those who neglect the laws of virtue may live. It signifies, distinctively, true life, the experience of inward peace and of Divine favor. "Whosoever hateth his brother hath not eternal life abiding in him, but abideth in death;" that is to say, a soul rankling with bad passions is "in the gall of bitterness and the bond of iniquity," but, when converted from hatred to love, it passes from wretchedness to blessedness. "Let the dead bury their dead." No one reading this passage with its context can fail to perceive that it means, substantially, "Let those who are absorbed in the affairs of this world, and indifferent to the revelation I have brought from heaven, attend to the interment of the dead; but delay not thou, who art kindled with a lively interest in the truth, to proclaim the kingdom of God." When the returning prodigal had been joyfully received, the father said, in reply to the murmurs of the elder son, "Thy brother was dead and is alive again;" he was lost in sin and misery, he is found in penitence and happiness. Paul writes to the Romans, "Without the law sin was dead, and I was alive; but when the law was made known, sin came to life, and I died." In other words, when a man is ignorant of the moral law, immoral conduct does not prevent him from feeling innocent and being at peace; but when a knowledge of the law shows the wickedness of that conduct, he becomes conscious of guilt, and is unhappy. For instance, to state the thought a little differently, to a child knowing nothing of the law, the law, or its purposed violation, sin, does not exist, is dead: he therefore enjoys peace of conscience; but when he becomes aware of the law and its authority, if he then break it, sin is generated and immediately stings, and spiritual happiness dies. These passages are sufficient to show that Christianity uses the words "death" and "life" in a spiritual sense, penetrating to the hidden realities of the soul. To speak thus of the guilty, unbelieving man as dead, and only of the virtuous, believing man as truly alive, may seem at first a startling use of figurative language. It will not appear so when we notice its appropriateness to the case, or remember the imaginative nature of Oriental speech and recollect how often we employ the same terms in the same way at the present time. We will give a few examples of a similar use of language outside of the Scriptures. That which threatens or produces death is sometimes, by a figure, identified with death. Orpheus, in the Argonautika, speaks of "a terrible serpent whose yawning jaw is full of death." So Paul says he was "in deaths oft." Ovid says, "The priests poured out a dog's hot life on the altar of Hecate at the crossing of two roads." The Pythagoreans, when one of their number became impious and abandoned, were accustomed to consider him dead, and to erect a tomb to him, on which his name and his age at the time of his moral decease were engraved. The Roman law regarded an excommunicated citizen as civilis mortuus, legally dead. Fenelon writes, "God has kindled a flame at the bottom of every heart, which should always burn as a lamp for him who hath lighted it; and all other life is as death." Chaucer says, in one of his Canterbury Tales, referring to a man enslaved by dissolute habits, "But certes, he that haunteth swiche delices Is ded while that he liveth in tho' vices." And in a recent poem the following lines occur: "From his great eyes The light has fled: When faith departs, when honor dies, The man is dead." To be subjected to the lower impulses of our nature by degraded habits of vice and criminality is wretchedness and death. The true life of man consists, the Great Teacher declared, "not in the abundance of the things which he possesseth, but rather in his being rich toward God," in conscious purity of heart, energy of faith, and union with the Holy Spirit. "He that lives in sensual pleasure is dead while he lives," Paul asserts; but he that lives in spiritual righteousness has already risen from the dead. To sum up the whole in a single sentence, the service and the fruits of sin form an experience which Christianity calls death, because it is a state of insensibility to the elements and results of true life, in the adequate sense of that term, meaning the serene activity and religious joy of the soul. The second particular in the essential doctrine of Christianity concerning the states of human experience which it entitles death and life is their inherent, enduring nature, their independence on the objects and changes of this world. The gospel teaches that the elements of our being and experience are transferred from the life that now is into the life that is to come, or, rather, that we exist continuously forever, uninterrupted by the event of physical dissolution. "Whosoever drinketh of the water that I shall give him," Jesus declares, "shall never thirst; but the water that I shall give him shall be in him a well of water springing up into everlasting life." John affirms, "The world passeth away, and the lust thereof; but he that doeth the will of God abideth forever." Paul writes to the Christians at Rome, "In that Christ died, he died unto sin once; but in that he liveth, he liveth unto God. Likewise reckon ye also yourselves to be dead indeed unto sin, but alive unto God." Numerous additional texts of kindred import might be cited. They announce the immortality of man, the unending continuance of the Christian consciousness, unless forfeited by voluntary defection. They show that sin and woe are not arbitrarily bounded by the limits of time and sense in the grave, and that nothing can ever exhaust or destroy the satisfaction of true life, faith in the love of God: it abides, blessed and eternal, in the uninterrupted blessedness and eternity of its Object. The revelation and offer of all this to the acceptance of men, its conditions, claims, and alternative sanctions, were first divinely made known and planted in the heart of the world, as the Scriptures assert, by Jesus Christ, who promulgated them by his preaching, illustrated them by his example, proved them by his works, attested them by his blood, and crowned them by his resurrection. And now there is opened for all of us, through him, that is to say, through belief and obedience of what he taught and exemplified, an access unto the Father, an assurance of his forgiveness of us and of our reconciliation with him. We thus enter upon the experience of that true life which is "joy and peace in believing," and which remains indestructible through all the vanishing vagrancy of sin, misery, and the world. "This is eternal life, that they might know thee, the only true God, and Jesus Christ whom thou hast sent:" that is, imperishable life is to be obtained by union with God in faith and love, through a hearty acceptance of the instructions of Christ. The two points thus far considered are, first, that the sinful, unbelieving, wretched man abides in virtual death, while the righteous, happy believer in the gospel has the experience of genuine life; and, secondly, that these essential elements of human character and experience survive all events of time and place in everlasting continuance. The next consideration prominent in the Christian doctrine of death and life is the distinction continually made between the body and the soul. Man is regarded under a twofold aspect, as flesh and spirit, the one a temporal accompaniment and dependent medium, the other an immortal being in itself. The distinction is a fundamental one, and runs through nearly all philosophy and religion in their reference to man. In the Christian Scriptures it is not sharply drawn, with logical precision, nor always accurately maintained, but is loosely defined, with waving outlines, is often employed carelessly, and sometimes, if strictly taken, inconsistently. Let us first note a few examples of the distinction itself in the instructions of the Savior and of the different New Testament writers. "That which is born of the flesh is flesh, and that which is born of the spirit is spirit." "Fear not them which kill the body but are not able to kill the soul." "Though our outward man perish, yet the inward man is renewed." "He that soweth to his flesh shall reap corruption; he that soweth to the spirit shall reap life everlasting." "Being put to death in the flesh, but quickened in the spirit." "Knowing that I must shortly put off this tabernacle." "The body without the spirit is dead." It would be useless to accumulate examples. It is plain that these authors distinguish the body and the soul as two things conjoined for a season, the latter of which will continue to live when the other has mixed with the dust. The facts and phenomena of our being from which this distinction springs are so numerous and so influential, so profound and so obvious, that it is impossible they should escape the knowledge of any thinking person. Indeed, the distinction has found a recognition everywhere among men, from the ignorant savage, whose instincts and imagination shadow forth a dim world in which the impalpable images of the departed dwell, to the philosopher of piercing intellect and universal culture, "Whose lore detects beneath our crumbling clay A soul, exiled, and journeying back to day." "Labor not for the meat which perisheth," Jesus exhorts his followers, "but labor for the meat which endureth unto everlasting life." The body and the luxury that pampers it shall perish, but the spirit and the love that feeds it shall abide forever. We now pass to examine some metaphorical terms often erroneously interpreted as conveying merely their literal force. Every one familiar with the language of the New Testament must remember how repeatedly the body and the soul, or the flesh and the spirit, are set in direct opposition to each other, sin being referred to the former, righteousness to the latter. "I know that in my flesh there is no good thing; but with my mind I delight in the law of God." "The flesh lusteth against the spirit, and the spirit lusteth against the flesh, and these are contrary the one to the other." All this language and it is extensively used in the epistles is quite generally understood in a fixed, literal sense; whereas it was employed by its authors in a fluctuating, figurative sense, as the critical student can hardly help perceiving. We will state the real substance of Christian teaching and phraseology on this point in two general formulas, and then proceed to illustrate them. First, both the body and the soul may be corrupt, lawless, empty of Divine belief, full of restlessness and suffering, in a state of moral death; or both may be pure, obedient, acceptable in the sight of God, full of faith, peace, and joy, in a state of genuine life. Secondly, whatever tends in any way to the former result to make man guilty, feeble, and wretched, to deaden his spiritual sensibilities, to keep him from union with God and from immortal reliances is variously personified as "the Flesh," "Sin," "Death," "Mammon," "the World," "the Law of the Members," "the Law of Sin and Death;" whatever, on the contrary, tends in any way to the latter result to purify man, to intensify his moral powers, to exalt and quicken his consciousness in the assurance of the favor of God and of eternal being is personified as "the Spirit," "Life," "Righteousness," "the Law of God," "the Law of the Inward Man," "Christ," "the Law of the Spirit of Life in Christ." Under the first class of terms are included all the temptations and agencies by which man is led to sin, and the results of misery they effect; under the second class are included all the aspirations and influences by which he is led to righteousness, and the results of happiness they insure. For example, it is written, in the Epistle to the Galatians, that "the manifest works of the flesh are excessive sensuality, idolatry, hatred, emulations, quarrels, heresies, murders, and such like." Certainly some of these evils are more closely connected with the mind than with the body. The term "flesh" is obviously used in a sense coextensive with the tendencies and means by which we are exposed to guilt and degradation. These personifications, it will therefore be seen, are employed with general rhetorical looseness, not with definite logical exactness. It is self evident that the mind is the actual agent and author of all sins and virtues, and that the body in itself is unconscious, irresponsible, incapable of guilt. "Every sin that man doeth is without the body." In illustration of this point Chrysostom says, "If a tyrant or robber were to seize some royal mansion, it would not be the fault of the house." And how greatly they err who think that any of the New Testament writers mean to represent the flesh as necessarily sinful and the spirit as always pure, the following cases to the contrary from Paul, whose speech seems most to lean that way, will abundantly show. "Glorify God in your body and in your spirit, which are his." "Know ye not that your body is the temple of the Holy Ghost?" "Yield not your members as instruments of unrighteousness unto sin, but as instruments of righteousness unto God." "That the life of Jesus might be made manifest in our mortal flesh." "Present your bodies a living sacrifice, holy, acceptable unto God." It is clear that the author of these sentences did not regard the body, or literal flesh, as necessarily unholy, but as capable of being used by the man himself in fulfilling the will of God. Texts that appear to contradict this must be held as figures, or as impassioned rhetorical exclamations. We also read of "the lusts of the mind," the "fleshly mind," "filthiness of the spirit," "seducing spirits," "corrupt minds," "mind and conscience defiled," "reprobate mind," showing plainly that the spirit was sometimes regarded as guilty and morally dead. The apostle writes, "I pray that your whole spirit and soul and body may be preserved blameless." The scriptural declarations now cited teach explicitly that both the body and the soul may be subjected to the perfect law of God, or that both may abide in rebellion and wickedness, the latter state being called, metaphorically, "walking after the flesh," the former "walking after the spirit," that being sin and death, this being righteousness and life. An explanation of the origin of these metaphors will cast further light upon the subject. The use of a portion of them arose from the fact that many of the most easily besetting and pernicious vices, conditions and allurements of sin, defilements and clogs of the spirit, come through the body, which, while it is itself evidently fated to perish, does by its earthly solicitations entice, contaminate, and debase the soul that by itself is invited to better things and seems destined to immortality. Not that these evils originate in the body, of course, all the doings of a man spring from the spirit of man which is in him, but that the body is the occasion and the aggravating medium of their manifestation. This thought is not contradicted, it is only omitted, in the words of Peter: "I beseech you, as strangers and pilgrims, abstain from fleshly lusts, which war against the soul." For such language would be spontaneously suggested by the fact that to be in bondage to the baser nature is hostile alike to spiritual dignity and peace, and to physical health and strength. The principles of the moral nature are at war with the passions of the animal nature; the goading vices of the mind are at war with the organic harmonies of the body; and on the issues of these conflicts hang all the interests of life and death, in every sense the words can be made to bear. Another reason for the use of these figures of speech, undoubtedly, was the philosophy of the ineradicable hostility of matter and spirit, the doctrine, so prevalent in the East from the earliest times, that matter is wholly corrupt and evil, the essential root and source of all vileness. An old, unknown Greek poet embodies the very soul of this faith in a few verses which we find in the Anthology. Literally rendered, they run thus: "The body is the torment, hell, fate, load, tyrant, Dreadful pest, and punishing trial, of the soul Which, when it quits the body, flies, as from the bonds Of death, to immortal God." It was this idea that produced the wild asceticism prevalent in the Christian Church during the Middle Age and previously, the fearful macerations, scourgings, crucifixions of the flesh. It should be understood that, though some of the phraseology of the Scriptures is tinged by the influence of this doctrine, the doctrine itself is foreign to Christianity. Christ came eating and drinking, not abjuring nature, but adopting its teachings, viewing it as a Divine work through which the providence of God is displayed and his glory gleams. He was no more of a Pharisee than nature is. As corn grows on the Sabbath, so it may be plucked and eaten on the Sabbath. The apostles never recommend self inflicted torments. The ascetic expressions found in their letters grew directly out of the perils besetting them and their expectation of the speedy end of the world. Christianity, rightly understood, renders even the body of a good man sacred and precious, through the indwelling of the Infinite. "We have this treasure in earthen vessels," and the poor, dying tenement of flesh is hallowed as "A vase of earth, a trembling clod, Constrain'd to hold the breath of God." The chief secret, however, of the origin of the peculiar phrases under consideration consisted in their striking fitness to the nature and facts of the case, their adaptedness to express these facts in a bold and vivid manner. The revelation of the transcendent claims of holiness, of the pardoning love of God, of the splendid boon of immortality, made by Christ and enforced by the miraculous sanctions and the kindling motives presented in his example, thrilled the souls of the first converts, shamed them of their degrading sins, opened before their imaginations a vision that paled the glories of the world, and regenerated them, stirring up the depths of their religious sensibilities, and flooding their whole being with a warmth, an energy, a spirituality, that made their previous experience seem a gross carnal slumber, a virtual death. "And you hath he quickened, who were dead in trespasses and sins." They were animated and raised to a new, pure, glad life, through the feeling of the hopes and the practice of the virtues of the gospel of Christ. Unto those who "were formerly in the flesh, the servants of sin, bringing forth fruit unto death," but now obeying the new form of doctrine delivered unto them, with renewed hearts and changed conduct, it is written, "If Christ be in you, the body is dead because of sin; but the spirit is life because of righteousness;" that is, If Christian truth reign in you, the body may still be tormented, or powerless, owing to your previous bad habits; but the soul will be redeemed from its abandonment to error and vice, and be assured of pardon and immortal life by the witnessing spirit of God. The apostle likewise says unto them, "If the Spirit of God dwell in you, it shall also quicken your mortal bodies." This remarkable expression was meant to convey a thought which the observation of common facts approves and explains. If the love of the pure principles of the gospel was established in them, their bodies, debilitated and deadened by former abandonment to their lusts, should be freed and reanimated by its influence. The body to a great extent reflects the permanent mind and life of a man. It is an aphorism of Solomon that "a sound heart is the life of the flesh." And Plotinus declares, "Temperance and justice are the saviors of the body so far as they are received by it." Deficiency of thought and knowledge, laziness of spirit, animality of habits, betray themselves plainly enough in the state and expression of the physical frame: they render it coarse, dim, and insensible; the person verges towards the condition of a clod; spiritual things are clouded, the beacon fire of his destiny wanes, the possibilities of Christian faith lessen, "the external and the insensate creep in on his organized clay," he feels the chain of the brute earth more and more, and finally gives himself up to utter death. On the other hand, the assimilation of Divine truth and goodness by a man, the cherishing love of all high duties and aspirations, exert a purifying, energizing power both on the flesh and the mind, animate and strengthen them, like a heavenly flame burn away the defiling entanglements and spiritual fogs that fill and hang around the wicked and sensual, increasingly pervade his consciousness with an inspired force and freedom, illuminate his face, touch the magnetic springs of health and healthful sympathy, make him completely alive, and bring him into living connection with the Omnipresent Life, so that he perceives the full testimony that he shall never die. For, when brought into such a state by the experience of live spirits in live frames, "We feel through all this fleshly dresse Bright shootes of everlastingnesse." Spiritual sloth and sensual indulgence stupefy, blunt, and confuse together in lifeless meshes, the vital tenant and the mortal tenement; they grow incorporate, alike unclean, powerless, guilty, and wretched. Then "Man lives a life half dead, a living death, Himself his sepulchre, a moving grave." Active virtue, profound love, and the earnest pursuit, in the daily duties of life, of "Those lofty musings which within us sow The seeds of higher kind and brighter being." Cleanse, vivify, and distinguish the body and the soul, so that, when this tabernacle of clay crumbles from around it, the unimprisoned spirit soars into the universe at once, and, looking back upon the shadowy king bearing his pale prey to the tomb, exclaims, "O death, where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory?" The facts, then, of sin, guilt, weakness, misery, unbelief, decay, insensibility, and death, joined with the opposite corresponding class of facts, and considered in their mutual spiritual and physical relations and results, originally suggested, and now interpret and justify, that peculiar phraseology of the New Testament which we have been investigating. It has no recondite meaning drawn from arbitrary dogmas, but a plain meaning drawn from natural truths. It remains next to see what is the Christian doctrine concerning literal, physical death, concerning the actual origin and significance of that solemn event. This point must be treated the more at length on account of the erroneous notions prevailing upon the subject. For that man's first disobedience was the procuring cause of organic, as well as of moral, death, is a doctrine quite generally believed. It is a fundamental article in the creeds of all the principal denominations of Christendom, and is traditionally held, from the neglect of investigation, by nearly all Christians. By this theory the words of James who writes, "Sin, when it is finished, bringeth forth death" are interpreted with strict literalness. It is conceived that, had not evil entered the first man's heart and caused him to fall from his native innocence, he would have roamed among the flowers of Eden to this day. But he violated the commandment of his Maker, and sentence of death was passed upon him and his posterity. We are now to prove that this imaginative theory is far from the truth. 1. The language in which the original account of Adam's sin and its punishment is stated shows conclusively that the penalty of transgression was not literal death, but spiritual, that is, degradation, suffering. God's warning in relation to the forbidden tree was, "In the day that thou eatest thereof thou shalt surely die." Of course, Jehovah's solemn declaration was fulfilled as he had said. But in the day that man partook of the prohibited fruit he did not die a physical death. He lived, driven from the delights of Paradise, (according to the account,) upwards of eight hundred years, earning his bread by the sweat of his brow. Consequently, the death with which he had been threatened must have been a moral death, loss of innocence and joy, experience of guilt and woe. 2. The common usage of the words connected with this subject in the New Testament still more clearly substantiates the view here taken of it. There is a class of words, linked together by similarity of meaning and closeness of mutual relation, often used by the Christian writers loosely, figuratively, and sometimes interchangeably, as has been shown already in another connection. We mean the words "sin," "flesh," "misery," "death." The same remark may be made of another class of words of precisely opposite signification, "righteousness," "faith," "life," "blessedness," "eternal life." These different words frequently stand to represent the same idea. "As the law hath reigned through sin unto death, so shall grace reign through righteousness unto life." In other terms, as the recognition of the retributive law of God through rebellion and guilt filled the consciences of men with wretchedness, so the acceptance of the pardoning love of God through faith and conformity will fill them with blessedness. Sin includes conscious distrust, disobedience, and alienation; righteousness includes conscious faith, obedience, and reconciliation. Sin and death, it will be seen, are related just as righteousness and life are. The fact that they are sometimes represented in the relation of identity "the minding of the flesh is death, but the minding of the spirit is life" and sometimes in the relation of cause and effect "the fruit of sin is death, the fruit of righteousness is life" proves that the words are used metaphorically, and really mean conscious guilt and misery, conscious virtue and blessedness. No other view is consistent. We are urged to be "dead unto sin, but alive unto God;" that is, to be in a state of moral perfection which turns a deaf and invincible front to all the influences of evil, but is open and joyfully sensitive to every thing good and holy. Paul also wrote, in his letter to the Philippians, that he had "not yet attained unto the resurrection," but was striving to attain unto it; that is, he had not yet reached, but was striving to reach, that lofty state of holiness and peace invulnerable to sin, which no change can injure, with which the event of bodily dissolution cannot interfere, because its elements faith, truth, justice, and love are the immutable principles of everlasting life. 3. In confirmation of this conclusion, an argument amounting to certainty is afforded by the way in which the disobedience of Adam and its consequences, and the obedience of Christ and its consequences, are spoken of together; by the way in which a sort of antithetical parallel is drawn between the result of Adam's fall and the result of Christ's mission. "As by one man sin entered into the world, and death by sin, and so death passed upon all men, so much more shall all receive the gift of God by one man, Jesus Christ, and reign unto eternal life." This means, as the writer himself afterwards explains, that "as by one man's disobedience many were made sinners" and suffered the consequences of sin, figuratively expressed by the word "death," "so by the obedience of one shall many be made righteous" and enjoy the consequences of righteousness, figuratively expressed by the word "life." Give the principal terms in this passage their literal force, and no meaning which is not absolutely incompatible with the plainest truths can be drawn from it. Surely literal death had come equally and fully upon all men everywhere; literal life could do no more. But render the idea in this way, the blessedness offered to men in the revelation of grace made by Jesus outweighs the wretchedness brought upon them through the sin introduced by Adam, and the sense is satisfactory. That which Adam is represented as having lost, that, the apostle affirms, Christ restored; that which Adam is said to have incurred, that Christ is said to have removed. But Christ did not restore to man a physical immortality on the earth: therefore that is not what Adam forfeited; but he lost peace of conscience and trust in the Divine favor. Furthermore, Christ did not free his followers from natural decay and death: therefore that is not what Adam's transgression brought upon his children; but it entailed upon them proclivities to evil, spiritual unrest, and woe. The basis of the comparison is evidently this: Adam's fall showed that the consequences of sin, through the stern operation of the law, were strife, despair, and misery, all of which is implied in the New Testament usage of the word "death;" Christ's mission showed that the consequences of righteousness, through the free grace of God, were faith, peace, and indestructible happiness, all of which is implied in the New Testament usage of the word "life." In the mind of Paul there was undoubtedly an additional thought, connecting the descent of the soul to the under world with the death of the sinful Adam, and its ascent to heaven with the resurrection of the immaculate Christ; but this does not touch the argument just advanced, because it does not refer to the cause of physical dissolution, but to what followed that event. 4. It will not be out of place here to demonstrate that sin actually was not the origin of natural decay, by the revelations of science, which prove that death was a monarch on the earth for ages before moral transgression was known. As the geologist wanders, and studies the records of nature, where earthquake, deluge, and volcano have exposed the structure of the globe and its organic remains in strata piled on strata, upon these, as upon so many pages of the earth's autobiography, he reads the history of a hundred races of animals which lived and died, leaving their bones layer above layer, in regular succession, centuries before the existence of man. It is evident, then, that, independent of human guilt, and from the very first, chemical laws were in force, and death was a part of God's plan in the material creation. As the previous animals perished without sin, so without sin the animal part of man too would have died. It was made perishable from the outset. The important point just here in the theology of Paul was, as previously implied, that death was intended to lead the soul directly to heaven in a new "spiritual body" or "heavenly house;" but sin marred the plan, and doomed the soul to go into the under world, a naked manes, when "unclothed" of "the natural body" or "earthly house." The mission of Christ was to restore the original plan; and it would be consummated at his second coming. 5. There is a gross absurdity involved in the supposition that an earthly immortality was the intended destiny of man. That supposition necessarily implies that the whole groundwork of God's first design was a failure, that his great purpose was thwarted and changed into one wholly different. And it is absurd to think such a result possible in the providence of the Almighty. Besides, had there been no sin, could not man have been drowned if he fell into the water without knowing how to swim? If a building tumbled upon him, would he not have been crushed? Nor is this theory free from another still more palpable absurdity; for, had there been no interference of death to remove one generation and make room for another, the world could not support the multitudes with which it would now swarm. Moreover, the time would arrive when the earth could not only not afford sustenance to its so numerous inhabitants, but could not even contain them. So that if this were the original arrangement, unless certain other parts which were indisputable portions of it were cancelled, the surplus myriads would have to be removed to some other world. That is just what death accomplishes. Consequently, death was a part of God's primal plan, and not a contingence accidentally caused by sin. 6. If death be the result of sin, then, of course, it is a punishment inflicted upon man for his wickedness. In fact, this is an identical proposition. But death cannot be intended as a punishment, because, viewed in that light, it is unjust. It comes equally upon old and young, good and bad, joyous and wretched. It does not permit the best man to live longest; it does not come with the greatest terror and agony to the most guilty. All these things depend on a thousand contingencies strung upon an iron law, which inheres to the physical world of necessity, and has not its basis and action in the spiritual sphere of freedom, character, and experience. The innocent babe and the hardened criminal are struck at the same instant and die the same death. Solomon knew this when he said, "As dieth the fool, so the wise man dieth." Death regarded as a retribution for sin is unjust, because it is destitute of moral discrimination. It therefore is not a consequence of transgression, but an era, incident, and step in human existence, an established part of the visible order of things from the beginning. When the New Testament speaks of death as a punishment, it always uses the word in a symbolic sense, meaning spiritual deadness and misery, which is a perfect retribution, because it discriminates with unerring exactness. This has been conclusively proved by Klaiber,1 who shows that the peculiar language of Paul in regard to the trichotomist division of man into spirit, soul, and body necessarily involves the perception of physical death as a natural fact. 7. Finally, natural death cannot be the penalty of unrighteousness, because it is not a curse and a woe, but a blessing and a privilege. Epictetus wrote, "It would be a curse upon ears of corn not to be reaped; and we ought to know that it would be a curse upon man not to die." 2 It cannot be the effect of man's sin, because it is the improvement of man's condition. Who can believe it would be better for man to remain on earth forever, under any 1 Die Neutestamentliche Lehre von der Sunde and Erlosung, ss. 22 45. 2 Dissert. ii. 6, 2. circumstances, than it is for him to go to heaven to such an experience as the faithful follower of Christ supposes is there awaiting him? It is not to be thought by us that death is a frowning enemy thrusting us into the gloom of eternal night or into the flaming waves of irremediable torment, but rather a smiling friend ushering us into the endless life of the spiritual world and into the unveiled presence of God. According to the arrangement and desire of God, for us to die is gain: every personal exception to this if there be any exception is caused through the marring interference of personal wickedness with the Creator's intention and with natural order. Who has not sometimes felt the bondage of the body and the trials of earth, and peered with awful thrills of curiosity into the mysteries of the unseen world, until he has longed for the hour of the soul's liberation, that it might plume itself for an immortal flight? Who has not experienced moments of serene faith, in which he could hardly help exclaiming, "I would not live alway; I ask not to stay: Oh, who would live alway away from his God?" A favorite of Apollo prayed for the best gift Heaven could bestow upon man. The god said, "At the end of seven days it shall be granted: in the mean time, live happy." At the appointed hour he fell into a sweet slumber, from which he never awoke.3 He who regards death as upon the whole an evil does not take the Christian's view of it, not even the enlightened pagan's view, but the frightened sensualist's view, the superstitious atheist's view. And if death be upon the whole normally a blessing, then assuredly it cannot be a punishment brought upon man by sin. The common hypothesis of our mortality namely, that sin, hereditarily lodged in the centre of man's life, spreads its dynamic virus thence until it appears as death in the periphery, expending its final energy within the material sphere in the dissolution of the physical frame is totally opposed to the spirit of philosophy and to the most lucid results of science. Science announces death universally as the initial point of new life.4 The New Testament does not teach that natural death, organic separation, is the fruit of sin, that, if man had not sinned, he would have lived forever on the earth. But it teaches that moral death, misery, is the consequence of sin. The pains and afflictions which sometimes come upon the good without fault of theirs do yet spring from human faults somewhere, with those exceptions alone that result from the necessary contingencies of finite creatures, exposures outside the sphere of human accountability. With this qualification, it would be easy to show in detail that the sufferings of the private individual and of mankind at large are, directly or indirectly, the products of guilt, violated law. All the woes, for instance, of poverty are the results of selfishness, pride, ignorance, and vice. And it is the same with every other class of miseries. "The world in Titanic immortality Writhes beneath the burning mountain of its sins." 3 Herod. i. 31; Cic. Tusc. Quast. i. 47. 4 Klencke, Das Buch vom Tode. Entwurf einer Lehre vom Sterben in der Natur und vom Tode des Mensehen insbesondere. Fur denkende Freunde der Wissenschaft. Had there been no sin, men's lives would have glided on like the placid rivers that flow through the woodlands. They would have lived without strife or sorrow, grown old without sadness or satiety, and died without a pang or a sigh. But, alas! sin so abounds in the world that "there is not a just man that lives and sins not;" and it is a truth whose omnipresent jurisdiction can neither be avoided nor resisted that every kind of sin, every offence against Divine order, shall somewhere, at some time, be judged as it deserves. He who denies this only betrays the ignorance which conceals from him a pervading law of inevitable application, only reveals the degradation and insensibility which do not allow him to be conscious of his own experience. A harmonious, happy existence depends on the practice of pure morals and communion with the love of God. This great idea that the conscientious culture of the spiritual nature is the sole method of Divine life is equally a fundamental principle of the gospel and a conclusion of observation and reason: upon the devout observance of it hinge the possibilities of true blessedness. The pursuit of an opposite course necessitates the opposite experience, makes its votary a restless, wretched slave, wishing for freedom but unable to obtain it. The thought just stated, we maintain, strikes the key note of the Christian Scriptures; and the voices of truth and nature accord with it. That Christianity declares sin to be the cause of spiritual death, in all the deep and wide meaning of the term, has been fully shown; that this is also a fact in the great order of things has been partially illustrated, but in justice to the subject should be urged, in a more precise and adequate form. In the first place, there is a positive punishment flowing evidently from sin, consisting both in outward inflictions of suffering and disgrace through human laws and social customs, and in the private endurance of bodily and mental pains and of strange misgivings that load the soul with fear and anguish. Subjection to the animal nature in the obedience of unrighteousness sensibly tends to bring upon its victim a woeful mass of positive ills, public and personal, to put him under the vile tyranny of devouring lusts, to induce deathlike enervation and disease in his whole being, to pervade his consciousness with the wretched gnawings of remorse and shame, and with the timorous, tormenting sense of guilt, discord, alienation, and condemnation. In the second place, there is a negative punishment for impurity and wrong doing, less gross and visible than the former, but equally real and much more to be dreaded. Sin snatches from a man the prerogatives of eternal life, by brutalizing and deadening his nature, sinking the spirit with its delicate delights in the body and its coarse satisfactions, making him insensible to his highest good and glory, lowering him in the scale of being away from God, shutting the gates of heaven against him, and leaving him to wallow in the mire. The wages of sin is misery, and its gift is a degradation which prevents any elevation to true happiness. These positive and negative retributions, however delayed or disguised, will come where they are deserved, and will not fail. Do a wrong deed from a bad motive, and, though you fled on the pinions of the inconceivable lightning from one end of infinite space to the other, the fated penalty would chase you through eternity but that you should pay its debt; or, rather, the penalty is grappling with you from within on the instant, is a part of you. Thirdly, if, by the searing of his conscience and absorption in the world, a sinner escapes for a season the penal consequences threatened in the law, and does not know how miserable he is, and thinks he is happy, yet let him remember that the remedial, restorative process through which he must pass, either in this life or in the next, involves a concentrated experience of expiatory pangs, as is shown both by the reason of the thing and by all relevant analogies. When the bad man awakes as some time or other he will awake to the infinite perfections and unalterable love of the Father whose holy commands he has trampled and whose kind invitations he has spurned, he will suffer agonies of remorseful sorrow but faintly shadowed in the bitterness of Peter's tears when his forgiving Master looked on him. Such is the common deadness of our consciences that the vices of our corrupt characters are far from appearing to us as the terrific things they really are. Angels, looking under the fleshly garment we wear, and seeing a falsehood or a sin assimilated as a portion of our being, turn away with such feeling as we should experience at beholding a leprous sore beneath the lifted ermine of a king. A well taught Christian will not fail to contemplate physical death as a stupendous, awakening crisis, one of whose chief effects will be the opening to personal consciousness, in the most vivid manner, of all the realities of character, with their relations towards things above and things below himself. This thought leads us to a fourth and final consideration, more important than the previous. The tremendous fact that all the inwrought elements and workings of our being are self retributive, their own exceeding great and sufficient good or evil, independent of external circumstances and sequences, is rarely appreciated. Men overlook it in their superficial search after associations, accompaniments, and effects. When all tangible punishments and rewards are wanting, all outward penalties and prizes fail, if we go a little deeper into the mysterious facts of experience we shall find that still goodness is rewarded and evil is punished, because "the mind is its own place, and can itself," if virtuous, "make a heaven of hell, if wicked, "a hell of heaven." It is a truth, springing from the very nature of God and his irreversible relations towards his creatures, that his united justice and love shall follow both holiness and iniquity now and ever, pouring his beneficence upon them to be converted by them into their food and bliss or into their bane and misery. There is, then, no essential need of adventitious accompaniments or results to justify and pay the good, or to condemn and torture the bad, here or hereafter. To be wise, and pure, and strong, and noble, is glory and blessedness enough in itself. To be ignorant, and corrupt, and mean, and feeble, is degradation and horror enough in itself. The one abides in true life, the other in moral death; and that is sufficient. Even now, in this world, therefore, the swift and diversified retributions of men's characters and lives are in them and upon them, in various ways, and to a much greater extent than they are accustomed to think. History preaches this with all her revealing voices. Philosophy lays it bare, and points every finger at the flaming bond that binds innocence to peace, guilt to remorse. It is the substance of the gospel, emphatically pronounced. And the clear experience of every sensitive soul confirms its truth, echoing through the silent corridors of the conscience the declarations which fell in ancient Judea from the lips of Jesus and the pen of Paul: "The pure in heart shall see God;" "The wages of sin is death." We will briefly sum up the principal positions of the ground we have now traversed. To be enslaved by the senses in the violation of the Divine laws, neglecting the mind and abusing the members, is to be dead to the goodness of God, the joys of virtue, and the hopes of heaven, and alive to guilt, anguish, and despair. To obey the will of God in love, keeping the body under, and cherishing a pure soul, is to be dead to the evil of the world, the goading of passions, and the fears of punishment, and alive to innocence, happiness, and faith. According to the natural plan of things from the dawn of creation, the flesh was intended to fall into the ground, but the spirit to rise into heaven. Suffering is the retributive result and accumulated merit of iniquity; while enjoyment is the gift of God and the fruit of conformity to his law. To receive the instructions of Christ and obey them with the whole heart, walking after his example, is to be quickened from that deadly misery into this living blessedness. The inner life of truth and goodness thus revealed and proposed to men, its personal experience being once obtained, is an immortal possession, a conscious fount springing up unto eternity through the beneficent decree of the Father, to play forever in the light of his smile and the shadow of his arm. Such are the great component elements of the Christian doctrine of life and death, both present and eternal. The purely interior character of the genuine teachings of Christianity on this subject is strikingly evident in the foregoing epitome. The essential thing is simply that the hate life of error and sin is inherent alienation from God, in slavery, wretchedness, death; while the love life of truth and virtue is inherent communion with God, in conscious freedom and blessedness. Here pure Christianity leaves the subject, declaring this with authority, but not pretending to clear up the mysteries or set forth the details of the subject. Whatever in the New Testament goes beyond this and meddles with minute external circumstances we regard as a corrupt addition or mixture drawn from various Gentile and Pharisaic sources and erroneously joined with the authentic words of Christ. What we maintain in regard to the apostles and the early Christians in general is not so much that they failed to grasp the deep spiritual principles of the Master's teaching, not that they were essentially in error, but that, while they held the substance of the Savior's true thoughts, they also held additional notions which were errors retained from their Pharisaic education and only partially modified by their succeeding Christian culture, a set of traditional and mechanical conceptions. These errors, we repeat, concern not the heart and essence of ideas, but their form and clothing. For instance, Christ teaches that there is a heaven for the faithful; the apostles suppose that it is a located region over the firmament. The dying Stephen said, "Behold, I see the heavens opened, and the Son of Man standing at the right hand of God." Again: Christ teaches that there is a banishment for the wicked; the apostles suppose that it is into a located region under the earth. In accordance with the theological dogmas of their time and countrymen, with such modification as the peculiar character, teachings, and life of Jesus enforced, they believed that sin sent through the black gates of Sheol those who would otherwise have gone through the glorious doors of heaven; that Christ would return from heaven soon, raise the dead from the under world, judge them, rebanish the reprobate, establish his perfect kingdom on earth, and reascend to heaven with his elect. That these distinctive notions came into the New Testament through the mistakes and imperfect knowledge of the apostles, how can any candid and competent scholar doubt?5 In the first place, the process whereby these conceptions were transmitted and assimilated from Zoroastrian Persia to Pharisaic Judea is historically traceable. Secondly, the brevity and vagueness of the apostolic references to eschatology, and their perfect harmony with known Pharisaic beliefs, prove their mutual consonance and the derivation of the later from the earlier. If the supposed Christian views had been unheard of before, their promulgators would have taken pains to define them carefully and give detailed expositions of them. Thirdly, it was natural almost inevitable that the apostles would retain at least some of their original peculiarities of belief, and mix them with their new ideas, unless they were prevented by an infallible inspiration. Of the presence of any such infallibility there is not a shadow of evidence; but, on the contrary, there is a demonstration of its absence. For they differed among themselves, carried on violent controversies on important points. Paul says of Peter, "I withstood him to the face." The Gentile and Judaic dissensions shook the very foundations of the Apostolic Church. Paul and Barnabas "had a sharp controversy, insomuch that they parted asunder." Almost every commentator and scholar worthy of notice has been compelled to admit the error of the apostles in expecting the visible return of Christ in their own day. And, if they erred in that, they might in other matters. The progress of positive science and the improvement of philosophical thought have rendered the mechanical dogmas popularly associated with Christianity incredible to enlightened minds. For this reason, as for many others, it is the duty of the Christian teacher to show that those dogmas are not an integral part of the gospel, but only an adventitious element imported into it from an earlier and unauthoritative system. Take away these incongruous and outgrown errors, and the pure religion of Christ will be seen, and will be seen to be the everlasting truth of God. In attempting to estimate the actual influence of Christianity, wherever it has spread, in establishing among men a faith in immortality, we must specify six separate considerations. First, the immediate reception of the resurrection and ascension of Christ as a miraculous and typical fact, putting an infallible seal on his teachings, and demonstrating, even to the senses of men, the reality of a heavenly life, was an extremely potent influence in giving form and vigor to faith, more potent for ages than every thing else combined. The image of the victorious Christ taken up to heaven and glorified there forever, this image, pictured in every believer's mind, stimulated the imagination and kept an ideal vision of heaven in constant remembrance as an apprehended reality. "There is Jesus," they said, pointing up to heaven; "and there one day we shall be with him." Secondly, the obloquy and desertion experienced by the early Christians threw them back upon a double strength of spiritual faith, and opened to them an intensified communion with God. As worldly goods and pleasures were sacrificed, the more powerful became their 5 Eschatologie, oder die Lebre von den Letzten Dingen. Mit besonderer Rucksicht anf die gangbare Irriehre vom Hades. Basel, 1840. De Wette interprets the doctrine of Christ's descent into Hades as a myth derived from the idea that he was the Savior not only of his living followers but also of the heathen and the dead. Bibl. Dogmatik, s. 272. perception of moral truths and their grasp of invisible treasures. The more fiercely they were assailed, the dearer became the cause for which they suffered, and the more profoundly the moral springs of faith were stirred in their souls. The natural revulsion of their souls was from destitution, contempt, peril, and pain on earth to a more vivid and magnified trust in a great reward laid up for them in heaven. Thirdly, the unflinching zeal kindled in the early confessors of Christianity, the sublime heroism shown by them amidst the awful tortures inflicted on them by the persecuting Jews and Romans, reacted on their brethren to give profounder firmness and new intensity to their faith in a glorious life beyond the grave. The Christians thrown into the amphitheatre to the lions calmly kneeled in prayer, and to the superstitious bystanders a bright nimbus seemed to play around their brows and heaven to be opened above. As they perished at the stake, amidst brutal jeers and shrivelling flames, serenely maintaining their profession, and calling on Christ, over the lurid vista of smoke and fire broke on their rapt vision the blessed splendors of Paradise; and their joy seemed, to the enthusiastic believers around, no less than a Divine inspiration, confirming their faith, and preaching, through the unquestionable truthfulness of martyrdom, the certainty of immortal life. The survivors celebrated the anniversaries of the martyrs' deaths as their birthdays into the endless life. Fourthly, another means by which Christianity operated to deepen and spread a belief in the future life was, indirectly, through its influence in calling out and cultivating the affections of the heart. The essence of the gospel in theory, as taught by all its teachers, in fact, as incarnated by Christ, and in practice, as working in history is love. From the first it condemned and tended to destroy all the coldness and hatred of human hearts; and it strove to elicit and foster every kindly sentiment and generous impulse, to draw its disciples together by those yearning ties of sympathy and devotion which instinctively demand and divinely prophesy an eternal union in a better world. The more mightily two human hearts love each other, the stronger will be their spontaneous longing for immortality. The unrivalled revelation of the disinterested love of God made by Christianity, and its effect in refining and increasing the love of men, have contributed in a most important degree to sanction and diffuse the faith in a blessed life reserved for men hereafter. One remarkable specification may be noticed. The only pagan description of children in the future life is that given by some of the classic poets, who picture the infant shades lingering in groups around the dismal gates of the under world, weeping and wailing because they could never find admittance. "Continuo audita voces, vagitus et ingens, Infantumque animaflentes in limine primo." Go the long round of the pagan heavens, you will find no trace of a child. Children were withered blossoms blown to oblivion. The soft breezes that fanned the Blessed Isles and played through the perennial summer of Elysium blew upon no infant brows. The grave held all the children very fast. By the memorable words, "Of such is the kingdom of heaven," Christ unbarred the portals of the future world and revealed therein hosts of angelic children. Ever since then children have been seen in heaven. The poet has sung that the angel child is first on the wing to welcome the parent home. Painters have shown us, in their visions of the blessed realms, crowds of cherubs, have shown us "How at the Almighty Father's hand, Nearest the throne of living light, The choirs of infant seraphs stand, And dazzling shine where all are bright." Fifthly, the triumphant establishment of Christianity in the world has thrown the prestige of public opinion, the imposing authority of general affirmation and acceptance, around its component doctrines chief among which is the doctrine of immortality and secured in their behalf the resistless influences of current custom and education. From the time the gospel was acknowledged by a nation as the true religion, each generation grew up by habitual tutelage to an implicit belief in the future life. It became a dogma not to be questioned. And the reception of it was made more reasonable and easy by the great superiority of its moral features over those of the relative superstitions embodied in the ethnic religions which Christianity displaced. Finally, Christianity has exerted no small influence both in expressing and imparting faith in immortality by means of the art to which it has given birth. The Christian ritual and symbolism, which culminated in the Middle Age, from the very first had their vitality and significance in the truth of another life. Every phase and article of them implied, and with mute or vocal articulation proclaimed, the superiority and survival of mind and heart, the truth of the gospel history, the reality of the opened heaven. Who, in the excited atmosphere, amidst the dangers, living traditions, and dramatic enactments of that time, could behold the sacraments of the Church, listen to a mighty chant, kneel beside a holy tomb, or gaze on a painting of a gospel scene, without feeling that the story of Christ's ascent to God was true, being assured that elsewhere than on earth there was a life for the believer, and in rapt imagination seeing visions of the supernatural kingdom unveiled? The inmost thought or sentiment of mediaval art to adapt a remarkable passage from Heine6 was the depression of the body and the elevation of the soul. Statues of martyrs, pictures of crucifixions, dying saints, pale, faint sufferers, drooping heads, long, thin arms, meager bones, poor, awkwardly hung dresses, emaciated features celestially illuminated by faith and love, expressed the Christian self denial and unearthliness. Architecture enforced the same lesson as sculpture and painting. Entering a cathedral, we at once feel the soul exalted, the flesh degraded. The inside of the dome is itself a hollow cross, and we walk there within the very witness work of martyrdom. The gorgeous windows fling their red and green lights upon us like drops of blood and decay. Funereal music wails and fades away along the dim arches. Under our feet are gravestones and corruption. With the colossal columns the soul climbs aloft, loosing itself from the body, which sinks to the floor as a weary weed. And when we look on one of these vast Gothic structures from without, so airy, graceful, tender, transparent, it seems cut out of one piece, or may be taken for an ethereal lace work of marble. 6 Die Romantische Schule, buch i. Then only do we feel the power of the inspiration which could so subdue even stone that it shines spectrally possessed, and make the most insensate of materials voice forth the grand teaching of Christianity, the triumph of the spirit over the flesh. In these six ways, therefore, by placing a tangible image of it in the imagination through the resurrection of Christ, by the powerful stirring of the springs of moral faith through the persecutions that attended its confession, by the apparent inspiration of the martyrs who died in its strength, by calling out the latent force of the heart's affections that crave it, by the moulding power of establishment, custom, and education, by the spiritualizing, vision conjuring effect of its worship and art, has Christianity done a work of incalculable extent in strengthening the world's belief in a life to come.7 A remarkable evidence of the impression Christianity carried before it is furnished by an incident in the history of the missionary Paulinus. He had preached before Edwin, King of Northumbria. An old earl stood up and said, "The life of man seems, when compared with what is hidden, like the sparrow, who, as you sit in your hall, with your thanes and attendants, warmed by the blazing fire, flies through. As he flies through from door to door, he enjoys a brief escape from the chilling storms of rain and snow without. Again he goes forth into the winter and vanishes. So seems the short life of man. If this new doctrine brings us something more certain, in my mind it is worthy of adoption."8 The most glorious triumph of Christianity in regard to the doctrine of a future life was in imparting a character of impartialness and universality to the proud, oligarchic faith which had previously excluded from it the great multitude of men. The lofty conceptions of the fate of the soul cherished by the illustrious philosophers of Greece and Rome were not shared by the commonalty until the gospel its right hand touching the throne of God, its left clasping humanity announced in one breath the resurrection of Jesus and the brotherhood of man. "Their highest lore was for the few conceived, By schools discuss'd, but not by crowds believed. The angel ladder clomb the heavenly steep, But at its foot the priesthoods lay, asleep. They did not preach to nations, 'Lo, your God!' No thousands follow'd where their footsteps trod: Not to the fishermen they said, 'Arise!' Not to the lowly offer'd they the skies. Wisdom was theirs: alas! what men most need Is no sect's wisdom, but the people's creed. Then, not for schools, but for the human kind, The uncultured reason, the unletter'd mind, The poor, the oppress'd, the laborer, and the slave, God said, 'Be light!' and light was on the grave! No more alone to sage and hero given, For all wide oped the impartial gates of heaven." 9 7 Compare Bengal's essay, Quid Doctrina de Animarum Immortalitate Religioni Christiana debeat. 8 Venerable Bede, book ii. ch. xiv. 9 Bulwer, New Timon, part iv. PART FOURTH CHRISTIAN THOUGHTS CONCERNING A FUTURE LIFE. CHAPTER I. PATRISTIC DOCTRINE OF A FUTURE LIFE. WITH reference to the present subject, we shall consider the period of the Church Fathers as including the nine centuries succeeding the close of the apostolic age. It extends from Clement, Barnabas, and Hermas to OEcumenius and Gerbert. The principal components of the doctrine of the future life held during this period, though showing some diversities and changes, are in their prevailing features of one consistent type, constituting the belief which would in any of those centuries have been generally recognised by the Church as orthodox. For reasons previously given, we believe that Jesus himself taught a purely moral doctrine concerning the future life, a doctrine free from arbitrary, mechanical, or sacerdotal peculiarities. With experimental knowledge, with inspired insight, with fullest authority, he set forth conclusions agreeing with the wisest philosophy and confirmatory of our noblest hopes, namely, that a conscious immortality awaits the soul in the many mansions of the Father's house, which it enters on leaving the body, and where its experience will depend upon ethical and spiritual conditions. To this simple and sublime doctrine announced by Jesus, so rational and satisfactory, we believe for reasons already explained that the apostles joined various additional and modifying notions, Judaic and Gentile, such as the local descent of Christ into the prison world of the dead, his mission there, his visible second coming, a bodily resurrection, a universal scenic judgment, and other kindred views. The sum of results thus reached the Fathers developed in greater detail, distinguishing and emphasizing them, and also still further corrupting them with some additional conceptions and fancies, Greek and Oriental, speculative and imaginative. The peculiar theological work of the apostles in regard to this subject was the organizing of the Persian Jewish doctrine of the Pharisees, with a Christian complement and modifications, around the person of Christ, and fixing so near in the immediate future the period when it was to be consummated that it might be looked for at any time. The peculiar theological work of the Fathers in regard to the doctrine thus formed by the apostles was twofold. First, being disappointed of the expected speedy second coming of Christ, they developed the intermediate state of the dead more fully, and made it more prominent. Secondly, in the course of the long and vehement controversies which sprang up, they were led to complete and systematize their theology, to define their terms, to explain and defend their doctrines, comparing them together and attempting to harmonize them with history, reason, and ethics, as well as with Scripture and tradition. In this way the patristic mind became familiar with many processes of thought, with many special details, and with some general principles, quite foreign to the apostolic mind. Meanwhile, defining and systematizing went on, loose notions hardened into rigid dogmas, free thought was hampered by authority, the scheme generally received assumed the title of orthodox, anathematizing all who dared to dissent, and the fundamental outlines of the patristic eschatology were firmly established.1 In seeking to understand and to give an exposition of this scheme of faith, we have, besides various collateral aids, three chief guidances. First, we possess the symbols or confessions of faith put forth by several of the leading theologians of those times, or by general councils, and openly adopted as authority in many of the churches, the creed falsely called the Apostles', extant as early as the close of the third century, the creed of Arius, that of Cyril, the Nicene creed, the creed falsely named the Athanasian, and others. Secondly, we have the valuable assistance afforded by the treatises of Irenaus, Tertullian, Epiphanius, Augustine, and others still later, on the heresies that had arisen in the Church, treatises which make it easy to infer, by contrast and construction, what was considered orthodox from the statement of what was acknowledged heretical. And, thirdly, abundant resources are afforded us in the extant theological dissertations, and historical documents of the principal ecclesiastical authors of the time in review, a cycle of well known names, sweeping from Theophilus of Antioch to Photius of Byzantium, from Cyprian of Carthage to Maurus of Mentz. We think that any candid person, mastering these sources of information in the illustrating and discriminating light of a sufficient knowledge of the previous and the succeeding related opinions, will recognise in the following abstract a fair representation of the doctrine of a future life as it was held by the orthodox Fathers of the Christian Church in the period extending from the first to the tenth century. Before proceeding to set forth the common patristic scheme, a few preliminary remarks are necessary in relation to some of the peculiar, prominent features of Origen's theology, and in relation to the rival systems of Augustine and Pelagius. Origen was a man of vast learning, passionately fond of philosophy; and he modifyingly mingled a great many Oriental and Platonic notions with his theology. He imagined that innumerable worlds like this had existed and perished before it, and that innumerable others will do so after it in endless succession.2 He held that all souls whether devils, men, angels, or of whatever rank were of the same nature; that all who exist in material bodies are imprisoned in them as a punishment for sins committed in a previous state; the fig leaves in which Adam and Eve were dressed after their sin were the fleshly bodies they were compelled to assume on being expelled from the Paradise of their previous existence; that in proportion to their sins they are confined in subtile or gross bodies of adjusted grades until by penance and wisdom they slowly win their 1 Bretschneider, Was lehren die altesten Kirchenvater uber die Entstehung der Sude und des Todes, Adam's Vergehen und die Versohnung durch Christum. Oppositionsschrift, band viii. hft. 3, ss. 380-407. 2 De Principiis, lib. lit. cap. 5. deliverance, this gradual descent and ascent of souls being figuratively represented by Jacob's ladder; that all punishments and rewards are exactly fitted to the degree of sin or merit, without possibility of failure; that all suffering even that in the lowest hell is benevolent and remedial, so that even the worst spirits, including Satan himself, shall after a time be restored to heaven; that this alternation of fall and restoration shall be continued so often as the cloy and satiety of heavenly bliss, or the preponderant power of temptation, pervert free will into sin.3 He declared that it was impossible to explain the phenomena and experience of human life, or to justify the ways of God, except by admitting that souls sinned in a pre existent state. He was ignorant of the modern doctrine of vicarious atonement, considered as placation or satisfaction, and regarded Christ's suffering not as a substitute for ours, but as having merely the same efficacy in kind as the death of any innocent person, only more eminent in degree. He represents the mission of Christ to be to show men that God can forgive and recall them from sin, banishment, and hell, and to furnish them, in various ways, helps and incitements to win salvation. The foregoing assertions, and other kindred points, are well established by Mosheim, in his exposition of the characteristic views of Origen.4 The famous controversy between Augustine and Pelagius shook Christendom for a century and a half, and has rolled its echoing results even to the theological shores of to day. Augustine was more Calvinistic in his doctrines than the Fathers before him, and even than most of those after him. In a few particulars perhaps a majority of the Fathers really agreed more nearly with Pelagius than with him. But his system prevailed, and was publicly adopted for all Christendom by the third general council at Ephesus in the year 431. Yet some of its principles, in their full force, were actually not accepted. For instance, his dogma of unconditional election that some were absolutely predestinated to eternal salvation, others to eternal damnation has never been taught by the Roman Catholic Church. When Gottschalk urged it in the ninth century, it was condemned as a heresy;5 and among the Protestants in the sixteenth century Calvin was obliged to fight for it against odds. Augustine's belief must therefore be taken as a representation of the general patristic belief only with caution and with qualifications. The distinctive views of Augustine as contrasted with those of Pelagius were as follow.6 Augustine held that, by Adam's fault, a burden of sin was entailed on all souls, dooming them, without exception, to an eternal banishment in the infernal world. Pelagius denied the doctrine of "original sin," and made each one responsible only for his own personal sins. Augustine taught that baptism was necessary to free its subject from the power which the devil had over the soul on account of original sin, and that all would infallibly be doomed to hell who were not baptized, except, first, the ancient saints, who foreknew the evangelic doctrines and believed, and, secondly, the martyrs, whose blood was their baptism. Pelagius claimed that Christian baptism was only necessary to secure an 3 Ibid. lib. ii. cap. 9, 10. 4 Commentaries on the Affairs of the Christians in the First Three Centuries: Third Century sects. 27-29. 5 Hagenbach, Dogmengeschichte, sect. 183. 6 Wiggers, Augustinism and Pelagianism, trans. from the German by R. Emerson, ch. xix.; also pp. 62, 68, 75, 79. entrance into heaven: infants and good men, if unbaptized; would enjoy a happy immortality in Paradise, but they never could enter the kingdom of heaven. Augustine affirmed that Adam's sin destroyed the freedom of the will in the whole human race. Pelagius asserted the freedom of the individual will. Augustine declared that a few were arbitrarily elected to salvation from eternity, and that Christ died only for them. Pelagius taught that salvation or reprobation depended on personal deserts, and that the Divine election was merely through prescience of merits. Augustine said that saving grace was supernatural, irresistible, unattainable by human effort. Pelagius said it might be won or resisted by conformity to certain conditions in each person's power. Augustine believed that bodily death was inflicted as a punishment for sin;7 Pelagius, that it was the result of a natural law. The extensive, various learning, massive, penetrating mind, and remorseless logical consistency, of Augustine, enabled him to gather up the loose, floating theological elements and notions of the time, and generalize them into a complete system, in striking harmony, indeed, with the general character and drift of patristic thought, but carried out more fully in its details and applied more unflinchingly in its principles than had been done before, and therefore in some of its dogmas outstripping the current convictions of his contemporaries. His dogma of election was too revolting and immoral ever to win universal assent; and few could have the heart to unite with him in stigmatizing the whole human race in their natural state as "one damned batch and mass of perdition!" (conspersio damnata, massa perditionis.) With these hints, we are ready to advance to the general patristic scheme of eschatology. The exceptional variations and heresies will be referred to afterwards. First, in regard to the natural state of men under the law, from the time of Adam's sin to the time of Christ's suffering, their moral condition and destination, no one can deny that the Fathers commonly supposed that the dissolution of the body and the descent of the soul to the under world were a penalty brought on all men through the sin of the first man. Wherever the lengthening line of human generations wandered, the trail of the serpent, stamp of depravity, was on them, sealing them as Death's and marking them for the Hadean prison. This was the indiscriminate and the inevitable doom. There is no need of citing proofs of this statement, as it is well known that the writings of the Fathers are thronged both with indirect implications and with explicit avowals of it. Secondly, they thought that Christ came from heaven to redeem men from their lost state and subterranean bondage and to guide them to heaven. Augustine, and perhaps some others, maintained that he came merely to effectuate the salvation of a foreordained few; but undoubtedly the common belief was that he came to redeem all who would conform to certain conditions which he proposed and made feasible. The important question here is, What did the Fathers suppose the essence of Christ's redemptive work to be? and how, in their estimation, did he achieve that work? Was it the renewal and sanctification of human character by the melting power of a proclamation of mercy and love from God, by the regenerating influences and motives of the truths and appeals spoken by his lips, illustrated 7 In Gen. lib. ix. cap. 10, 11: "Parents would have yielded to children not by death, but by translation, and would have become as the angels." in his life, and brought to a focus in his martyr death? Certainly this was too plainly and prominently a part of the mission of Christ ever to be wholly overlooked. And yet one acquainted with the writings of the Fathers can hardly mistake so widely as to think that they esteemed this the principal element in Christ's redemptive work. Was the essence of that work, then, the making of a vicarious atonement, according to the Calvinistic interpretation of that phrase, the offering of a substitutional anguish sufficient to satisfy the claims of inexorable justice, so that the guilty might be pardoned? No. The modern doctrine of the atonement the satisfaction theory, as it is called was unknown to the Fathers. It was developed, step by step, after many centuries.8 It did not receive its acknowledged form until it came from the mind of the great Archbishop of Canterbury, Anselm, as late as the twelfth century. No scholar will question this confessed fact. What, then, were the essence and method of Christ's redemptive mission according to the Fathers? In brief, they were these. He was, as they believed, a superangelic being, the only begotten Son of God, possessing a nature, powers, and credentials transcending those delegated to any other being below God himself. He became flesh, to seek and to save the lost. This saving work was done not by his mortal sufferings alone, but by the totality of labors extending through the whole period of his incarnation. The subjective or moral part of his redemptive mission was to regenerate the characters of men and fit them for heaven by his teachings and example; the objective or physical part was to deliver their souls from the fatal confinement of the under world and secure for them the gracious freedom of the sky, by descending himself as the suppressing conqueror of death and then ascending as the beckoning pioneer of his followers. The Fathers did not select the one point or act of Christ's death as the pivot of human redemption; but they regarded that redemption as wrought out by the whole of his humiliation, instruction, example, suffering, and triumph, as the resultant of all the combined acts of his incarnate drama. Run over the relevant writings of Justin Martyr, Clement of Alexandria, Lactantius, Cyril, Ambrose, Augustine himself, Jerome, Chrysostom, and the rest of the prominent authors of the first ten centuries, and you cannot fail to be struck with the fact that they invariably speak of redemption, not in connection with Christ's death alone, but emphatically in connection with the group of ideas, his incarnation, death, descent, resurrection, and ascension! For the most part, they received it by tradition as a fact, without much philosophizing, that, in consequence of the sin of Adam, all men were doomed to die, that is, to leave their bodies and descend into the shadowy realm of death. They also accepted it as a fact, without much attempt at theoretical explanation, that when Christ, the sinless and resistless Son of God, died and went thither, before his immaculate Divinity the walls fell, the devils fled, the prisoners' chains snapped, and the power of Satan was broken. They received it as a fact that through the mediation of Christ the original boon forfeited by Adam was to be restored, and that men, instead of undergoing death and banishment to Hades, should be translated to heaven. So far as they had a theory about the cause, it turned on two simple points: first, the free grace and love of God; second, the self sacrifice and sufficient power of 8 Hagenbach, Dogmengeschichte, sect. 68. Christ. In the progressive course of dogmatic controversy, metaphysical speculation, and desire for system, explanations have been devised in a hundred different forms, from that of Aquinas to that of Calvin; from that of Anselm to that of Grotius; from that of Socinus to that of Bushnell. Tertullian describes the profound abyss beneath the grave, in the bowels of the earth, where, he says, all the dead are detained unto the day of judgment, and where Christ in his descent made the patriarchs and prophets his companions.9 Augustine says that nearly the whole Church agreed in believing that Christ delivered Adam from the under world when he rose thence himself.10 One must be very ignorant on the subject to doubt that the Fathers attributed unrivalled importance to the literal descent of Christ into the abode of the departed.11 Thirdly, after the advent of Christ, what were the conditions proposed for the actual attainment of personal salvation? It was the orthodox belief that Christ led up into Paradise with him the ancient saints who were awaiting his appearance in the under world:12 but with this exception it was not supposed that he saved any outright: he only put it in their power to save themselves, removing the previously insuperable obstacles. In the faith of those who accepted the dogma of predestination, of course, the presupposed condition of actual personal salvation was that the given individual should become one of the elect number. But it seems to have been usually believed that baptism was indispensable to give final efficacy to the decree of election in each individual case.13 Augustine says, "All are born under the power of the devil, held in chains by him as a jailer: baptism alone, through the force of Christ's redemptive work, breaks these chains and secures heaven." In regard to this necessity of baptism Pelagius agreed with his great adversary, saving an unessential modification, as we have seen before. The same may be said of Cyprian, Tertullian, and many other leading Fathers. Again, the so called Athanasian Creed, which shows the prevalent opinion of the Church in the fifth and sixth centuries, asserts that whoso believes not in the Trinity and kindred dogmas as therein laid down "without doubt shall perish everlastingly." In other words, assent of mind to the established creed of the Church is a vital condition of salvation. Finally, in the writings of nearly all of the Fathers we find frequent declarations of the necessity of moral virtue, righteous conduct, and piety, as a condition of admission into the kingdom of heaven. For example, Augustine says, "Such as have been baptized, partaken of the sacraments, and remained always in the catholic faith, but have led wicked lives, can have no hope of escaping eternal damnation." 14 These points were not sharply defined, authoritatively established, and consistently adhered to; and yet there was a pretty general agreement among the body of the Fathers that for actual salvation there were three practical necessary conditions, baptism, a sound faith, a good life. 9 De Anima, sects. 7 et 55. 10 Epist. CLXIV. 11 Huidekoper, Belief of the First Three Centuries concerning Christ's Mission to the Under World. 12 Augustine, De Civ. Del. lib. xx. cap. xv. Wiedenfeld, De Exorcismi Origine, Mutatione, deque hujus Actus peragendi Ratione Neander, Church History, vol. i. p. 3 13 Torrey's trans. 14 De Civ. Dei., lib. xxi. cap. xxv. Fourthly, the Fathers believed that none of the righteous dead could be admitted into heaven itself, the abode of God and his angels, until after the second coming of Christ and the holding of the general judgment; neither were any of the reprobate dead, according to their view, to be thrust into hell itself until after those events; but meanwhile all were detained in an intermediate state, the justified in a peaceful region of the under world enjoying some foretaste of their future blessedness, the condemned in a dismal region of the same under world suffering some foretaste of their future torment.15 After the numerous evidences given in previous chapters of the prevalence of this view among the Fathers, it would be superfluous to cite further authorities here. We will only reply to an objection which may be urged. It may be said, the Fathers believed that Enoch and Elijah were translated to heaven, also that the patriarchs, whom Christ rescued on his descent to Hades, were admitted thither, and, furthermore, that the martyrs by special privilege were granted entrance there. The point is an important one. The reply turns on the broad distinction made by the Fathers between heaven and Paradise. Some of the Fathers regarded Paradise as one division of the under world; some located it in a remote and blessed region of the earth; others thought it was high in the air, but below the dwelling place of God.16 Now, it was to "Paradise," not to heaven, that the dying thief, penitent on the cross, was promised admission. It was of "Paradise," not of heaven, that Tertullian said "the blood of the martyrs is the perfect key." So, too, when Jerome, Chrysostom, and others speak of a few favored ones delivered from the common fate before the day of judgment, it is "Paradise," and not heaven, that is represented as being thrown open to them. Irenaus says, "Those who were translated were translated to the Paradise whence disobedient Adam was driven into the world."17 A notable attempt has been repeatedly made for example, by the famous Dr. Coward, by Dodwell, and by some other more obscure writers to prove that the Fathers of the Greek Church, in opposition to the Latin Fathers, denied the consciousness of the soul during the interval from death to the resurrection, and maintained that the soul died with the body and would be restored with it at the last day. But this is an error arising from the misinterpretation of the figurative terms in which the Greek Fathers express themselves. Tatian, Justin, Theophilus, and Irenaus do not differ from the others in reality, but only in words. The opinion that the soul is literally mortal is erroneously attributed to those Greek Fathers, who in truth no more held it than Tertullian did. "The death" they mean is, to borrow their own language, "deprived of the rays of Divine light, to bear a deathly immortality," (in immortalitate mortem tolerantes,) an eternal existence in the ghostly under world.18 The con 15 They feel, as Novatian says, (De Trinitate, 1,) a prajudicium futuri judicii. See also Ernesti, Excurs. de Veter. Patrum Opinione de Statu Medio Animor. a Corpore sejunctorum. In his Lect. Acad. in Ep. ad Hebr. 16 E. g., see Ambrose, De Paradiso. 17 Adv. Hares., lib. v. cap. v. 18 See this point ably argued in an academic dissertation published at Konigsberg, 1827, bearing the title "Antiquissimorum Ecclesia Grsecte Patrum de Immortalitate Anima Sententia Recensentur." They held that the inner man was originally a spirit [non-ASCII characters omitted] and a soul [non-ASCII characters omitted] blended and immortal, that is, indestructibly united and blessed. But by sin the soul loses the spirit and becomes subject to death. that is, to ignorance of its Divine origin, alienation from God, darkness, and an abode in Hades. By the influences flowing from the mission of Christ, man is elevated again to conscious communion with God, and the spirit is restored to the soul. "Si restituitur, manet [non-ASCII characters omitted] fit autem [non-ASCII characters omitted]; si non restituitur, manet [non-ASCII characters omitted], fit autem [non-ASCII characters omitted], quod haud differt a morte." cordant doctrine of the Fathers as to the intermediate state of the dead was that, with the exception of a few admitted to Paradise, they were in the under world waiting the fulness of time, when the world should be judged and their final destination be assigned to them. As Tertullian says, "constituimus omnem animam apud inferos seguestrari in diem Domini." Finally, the Fathers expected that Christ would return from heaven, hold a general day of judgment, and consummate all things. The earliest disciples seem to have looked anxiously, almost from hour to hour, for that awful crisis. But, as years rolled on and the last apostle died, and it came not, the date was fixed more remotely; and, as other years passed away, and still no clear signs of its arrival appeared, the date grew more and more indefinite. Some still looked for the solemn dawn speedily to break; others assigned it to the year 1000; others left the time utterly vague; but none gave up the doctrine. All agreed that sooner or later a time would come when the deep sky would open, and Christ, clothed in terrors and surrounded by pomp of angels, would alight on the globe, when: "The angel of the trumpet Shall split the charnel earth With his blast so clear and brave, And quicken the charnel birth At the roots of the grave, Till the dead all stand erect." Augustine, representing the catholic faith, says, "The coming of Elias, the conversion of the Jews, Antichrist's persecution, the setting up of Christ's tribunal, the raising of the dead, the severing of the good and the bad, the burning of the world, and its renovation, this is the destined order of events."19 The saved were to be transported bodily to the eternal bliss of heaven; the damned, in like manner, were to be banished forever to a fiery hell in the centre of the earth, there to endure uncomprehended agonies, both physical and spiritual, without any respite, without any end. There were important, and for a considerable period quite extensive, exceptions, to the belief in this last dogma: nevertheless, such was undeniably the prevailing view, the orthodox doctrine, of the patristic Church. The strict literality with which these doctrines were held is strikingly shown in Jerome's artless question: "If the dead be not raised with flesh and bones, how can the damned, after the judgment, gnash their teeth in hell?" During the period now under consideration there were great fluctuations, growths, changes, of opinion on three subjects in regard to which the public creeds did not prevent all freedom of thought by laying down definite propositions. We refer to baptism, the millennium, and purgatory. Christian baptism was first simply a rite of initiation into the Christian religion. Then it became more distinctly a symbol of faith in Christ and in his gospel, and an emblem of a new birth. Next it was imagined to be literally efficacious to 19 De Civ. Del, lib. xx. cap. 30, sect. 5. personal salvation, solving the chains of the devil, washing off original sin, and opening the door of heaven.20 To trace the doctrine through its historical variations and its logical windings would require a large volume, and is not requisite for our present purpose. Almost all the early Fathers believingly looked for a millennium, a reign of Christ on earth with his saints for a thousand years. Daille has shown that this belief was generally held, though with great diversities of conception as to the form and features of the doctrine.21 It was a Jewish notion which crept among the Christians of the first century and has been transmitted even to the present day. Some supposed the millennium would precede the destruction of the world, others that it would follow that terrible event, after a general renovation. None but the faithful would have part in it; and at its close they would pass up to heaven. Irenaus quotes a tradition, delivered by Papias, that "in the millennium each vine will bear ten thousand branches, each branch ten thousand twigs, each twig ten thousand clusters, each cluster ten thousand grapes, each grape yielding a hogshead of wine; and if any one plucks a grape its neighbors will cry, Take me: I am better!" This, of course, was a metaphor to show what the plenty and the joy of those times would be. According to the heretics Cerinthus and Marcion, the millennium was to consist in an abundance of all sorts of sensual riches and delights. Many of the orthodox Fathers held the same view, but less grossly; while others made its splendors and its pleasures mental and moral.22 Origen attacked the whole doctrine with vehemence and cogency. His admirers continued the warfare after him, and the belief in this celestial Cocaigne suffered much damage and sank into comparative neglect. The subject rose into importance again at the approaching close of the first chiliad of Christianity, but soon died away as the excitement of that ominous epoch passed with equal disappointment to the hopes and the fears of the believers. A galvanized controversy has been carried on about it again in the present century, chiefly excited by the modern sect of Second Adventists. Large volumes have recently appeared, principally aiming to decide whether the millennium is to precede or to follow the second coming of Christ! 23 The doctrine itself is a Jewish Christian figment supported only by a shadowy basis of fancy. The truth contained in it, though mutilated and disguised, is that when the religion of Christ is truly enthroned over the earth, when his real teachings and life are followed, the kingdom of God will indeed cover the world, and not for a thousand years only, but unimaginable glory and happiness shall fill the dwellings of the successive generations of men forever.24 The doctrine of a purgatory a place intermediate between Paradise and hell, where souls not too sinful were temporarily punished, and where their condition and stay were in the power of the Church on earth, a doctrine which in the Middle Age became practically 20 Neander, Planting and Training, Eng. trans. p. 102. 21 De Usu Patrum, lib. ii. cap. 4. 22 Munscher, Entwickelung der Lehre vom Tausendjahrigen Reiche in den Drei Ersten Jahrhunderten. In Henke's Magaz. b. vi. ss. 233 254. 23 See e. g. The End, by Dr. Cumming. The Second Advent, by D. Brown. 24 Bush, On the Millennium. Bishop Russell, Discourses on the Millennium. Carroll, Geschichte des Chiliasmus. the foremost instrument of ecclesiastical influence and income was through the age of the Fathers gradually assuming shape and firmness. It seems to have been first openly avowed as a Church dogma and effectively organized as a working power by Pope Gregory the Great, in the latter part of the sixth century.25 No more needs to be said here, as the subject more properly belongs to the next chapter. It but remains in close to notice those opinions relating to the future life which were generally condemned as heresies by the Fathers. One of the earliest of these was the destruction of the intermediate state and the denial of the general judgment by the assertion, which Paul charges so early as in his day upon Hymeneus and Philetus, "that the resurrection has passed already;" that is, that the soul, when it leaves the body, passes immediately to its final destination. This opinion reappeared faintly at intervals, but obtained very little prevalence in the early ages of the Church. Hierax, an author who lived at Leontopolis in Egypt early in the fourth century, denied the resurrection of the body, and excluded from the kingdom of heaven all who were married and all who died before becoming moral agents. Another heretical notion which attracted some attention was the opposite extreme from the foregoing, namely, that the soul totally dies with the body, and will be restored to life with it in the general resurrection at the end of the world; an opinion held by an Arabian sect of Christians, who were vanquished in debate upon it by Origen, and renounced it.26 Still another doctrine known among the Fathers was the belief that Christ, when he descended into the under world, saved and led away in triumph all who were there, Jews, pagans, good, bad, all, indiscriminately. This is number seventy nine in Augustine's list of the heresies. And there is now extant among the writings of Pope Boniface VI, of the ninth century, a letter furiously assailing a man who had recently maintained this "damnable doctrine." The numerous Gnostic sects represented by Valentinus, Cerinthus, Marcion, Basilides, and other less prominent names, held a system of speculation copious, complex, and of intensely Oriental character. That portion of it directly connected with our subject may be stated in few words. They taught that all souls pre existed in a world of pure light, but, sinning through the instigation and craft of demons, they fell, were mixed with darkness and matter, and bound in bodies. Through sensual lusts and ignorance, they were doomed to suffer after death in hell for various periods, and then to be born again. Jehovah was the enemy of the true God, and was the builder of this world and of hell, wherein he contrives to keep his victims imprisoned by deceiving them to worship him and to live in errors and indulgences. Christ came, they said, to reveal the true God, unmask the infernal character and wiles of Jehovah, rescue those whom he had cruelly shut up in hell, and teach men the real way of salvation. Accordingly, Marcion declared that when Christ descended into the under world he released and took into his own kingdom Cain, and the Sodomites, and all the 25 Flugge, Geschichte der Lehre vom Zustande des Menschen nach dem Tode in der Christlichen Kirche, absch. v. ss. 320-352. 26 Eusebius, Hist. Eccl. lib. vi. cap. 37. Gentiles who had refused to obey the demon worshipped by the Jews, but left there, unsaved, Abel, Enoch, Noah, Abraham, and the other patriarchs, together with all the prophets.27 The Gnostics agreed in attributing evil to matter, and made the means of redemption to consist in fastings and scourgings of the flesh, with denial of all its cravings, and in lofty spiritual contemplations. Of course, with one accord they vehemently assailed the dogma of the resurrection of the flesh. Their views, too, were inconsistent with the strict eternity of future hell punishments. The fundamental basis of their system was the same as that of nearly all the Oriental philosophies and religions, requiring an ascetic war against the world of sense. The notion that the body is evil, and the cause of evil, was rife even among the orthodox Fathers; but they stopped guardedly far short of the extreme to which the Gnostics carried it, and indignantly rejected all the strange imaginations which those heretics had devised to explain the subject of evil in a systematic manner.28 Augustine said, "If we say all sin comes from the flesh, we make the fleshless devil sinless!" Hermogenes, some of whose views at least were tinged with Gnosticism, believed the abyss of hell was formed by the confluence of matter, and that the devil and all his demons would at last be utterly resolved into matter.29 The theological system of the Manichaan sect was in some of its cardinal principles almost identical with those of the Gnostics, but it was still more imaginative and elaborate.30 It started with the Persian doctrine of two antagonist deities, one dwelling with good spirits in a world of light and love, the other with demons in a realm of darkness and horror. Upon a time the latter, sallying forth, discovered, far away in the vastness of space, the world of light. They immediately assailed it. They were conquered after a terrible struggle and driven back; but they bore with them captive a multitude of the celestial souls, whom they instantly mixed with darkness and gross matter. The good God built this world of mingled light and darkness to afford these imprisoned souls an opportunity to purge themselves and be restored to him. In arranging the material substances to form the earth, a mass of evil fire, with no particle of good in it, was found. It had been left in their flight by the vanquished princes of darkness. This was cast out of the world and shut up somewhere in the dark air, and is the Manichaan hell, presided over by the king of the demons. If a soul, while in the body, mortify the flesh, observe a severe ascetic moral discipline, fix its thoughts, affections, and prayers on God and its native home, it will on leaving the body return to the celestial light. But if it neglect these duties and become more deeply entangled in the toils of depraved matter, it is cast into the awful fire of hell, where the cleansing flames of torture partially purify it; and then it is born again and put on a new trial. If after ten successive births twice in each of five different forms the soul be still unreclaimed, then it is permanently remanded to the furnace of hell. At last, when all the celestial souls seized by the princes of darkness have returned to God, save those just mentioned, this world will be burned. Then the children 27 Irenaus, Adv. Herres., lib. i. cap. 22. 28 Account of the Gnostic Sects, in Moshelm's Comm., II. Century, sect. 65. 29 Lardner, Hist. of Heretics, ch. xviii. sect. 9. 30 Baur, Das Manichaische Religionssystem. of God will lead a life of everlasting blessedness with him in their native land of light; the prince of evil, with his fiends, will exist wretchedly in their original realm of darkness. Then all those souls whose salvation is hopeless shall be drawn out of hell and be placed as a cordon of watchmen and a phalanx of soldiers entirely around the world of darkness, to guard its frontiers forever and to see that its miserable inhabitants never again come forth to invade the kingdom of light.31 The Christian after Christ's own pattern, trusting that when the soul left the body it would find a home in some other realm of God's universe where its experience would be according to its deserts, capacity, and fittedness, sought to do the Father's will in the present, and for the future committed himself in faith and love to the Father's disposal. The apostolic Christian, conceiving that Christ would soon return to raise the dead and reward his own, eagerly looked for the arrival of that day, and strove that he might be among the saints who, delivered or exempt from the Hadean imprisonment, should reign with the triumphant Messiah on earth and accompany him back to heaven. The patristic Christian, looking forward to the divided under world where all the dead must spend the interval from their decease to the general resurrection, shuddered at the thought of Gehenna, and wrestled and prayed that his tarrying might be in Paradise until Christ should summon his chosen ones, justified from the great tribunal, to the Father's presence. The Manichaan Christian, believing the soul to be imprisoned in matter by demons who fought against God in a previous life, struggled, by fasting, thought, prayer, and penance, to rescue the spirit from its fleshly entanglements, from all worldly snares and illusions, that it might be freed from the necessity of any further abode in a material body, and, on the dissolution of its present tabernacle, might soar to its native light in the blissful pleroma of eternal being. 31 Mosheim, Comm., III. Century, sects. 44-52. CHAPTER II. MEDIAVAL DOCTRINE OF A FUTURE LIFE. THE period of time covered by the present chapter reaches from the close of the tenth century to the middle of the sixteenth, from the first full establishment of the Roman Catholic theology and the last general expectation of the immediate end of the world to the commencing decline of mediaval faith and the successful inauguration of the Protestant Reformation. The principal mental characteristic of that age, especially in regard to the subject of the future life, was fear. "Never," says Michelet, "can we know in what terrors the Middle Age lived." There was all abroad a living fear of men, fear of the State, fear of the Church, fear of God, fear of the devil, fear of hell, fear of death. Preaching consisted very much in the invitation, "Submit to the guidance of the Church while you live," enforced by the threat, "or you shall go to hell when you die." Christianity was practically reduced to some cruel metaphysical dogmas, a mechanical device for rescuing the devil's captives from him, and a system of ritual magic in the hands of a priesthood who wielded an authority of supernatural terrors over a credulous and shuddering laity. It is true that the genuine spirit and contents of Christianity were never wholly suppressed. The love of God, the blessed mediation of the benignant Jesus, the lowly delights of the Beatitudes, the redeeming assurance of pardon, the consoling, triumphant expectation of heaven, were never utterly banished even from the believers of the Dark Age. Undoubtedly many a guilty but repentant soul found forgiveness and rest, many a meek and spotless breast was filled with pious rapture, many a dying disciple was comforted and inspired, by the good tidings proclaimed from priestly lips even then. No doubt the sacred awe and guarded peace surrounding their precincts, the divine lessons inculcated within their walls, the pathetic prayers breathed before their altars, the traditions of saintly men and women who had drawn angelic visitants down to their cells and had risen long ago to be angels themselves, the strains of unearthly melody bearing the hearts of the kneeling crowd into eternity, no doubt these often made cathedral and convent seem "islands of sanctity amidst the wild, roaring, godless sea of the world." Still, the chief general feeling of the time in relation to the future life was unquestionably fear springing from belief, the wedlock of superstitious faith and horror. During the six centuries now under review the Roman Catholic Church and theology were the only Christianity publicly recognised. The heretics were few and powerless, and the papal system had full sway. Since the early part of the period specified, the working theology of the Roman Church has undergone but few, and, as pertaining to our subject, unimportant, changes or developments. Previous to that time her doctrinal scheme was inchoate, gradually assimilating foreign elements and developing itself step by step. The principal changes now concerning us to notice in the passage from patristic eschatology as deducible, for instance, from the works of Chrysostom, or as seen in the "Apostles' Creed" to mediaval eschatology as displayed in the "Summa" of Thomas Aquinas or in the Catechism of Trent are these. The supposititious details of the under world have been definitely arranged in greater subdivision; heaven has been opened for the regular admission of certain souls; the loose notions about purgatory have been completed and consolidated; and the whole combined scheme has been organized as a working instrument of ecclesiastical power and profit. These changes seem to have been wrought out, first, by continual assimilations of Christianity to paganism,1 both in doctrine and ceremony, to win over the heathen; and, secondly, by modifications and growths to meet the exigencies of doctrinal consistency and practical efficiency, exigencies repeatedly arising from philosophical discussion and political opposition. The degree in which papal Christianity was conformed to the prejudices and customs of the heathen believers, whose allegiance was sought, is astonishing. It extended to hundreds of particulars, from the most fundamental principles of theological speculation to the most trivial details of ritual service. We shall mention only a few instances of this kind immediately belonging to the subject we are treating. In the first place, the hierophant in the pagan Mysteries, and the initiatory rites, were the prototypes of the Roman Catholic bishop and the ceremonies under his direction.2 Christian baptism was made to be the same as the pagan initiation: both were supposed to cleanse from sin and to secure for their subject a better fate in the future life: they were both, therefore, sometimes delayed until just before death.3 The custom of initiating children into the Mysteries was also common, as infant baptism became.4 When the public treasury was low, the magistrates sometimes raised a fund by recourse to the initiating fees of the Mysteries, as the Christian popes afterwards collected money from the sale of pardons. In the second place, the Roman Catholic canonization was the same as the pagan apotheosis. Among the Gentiles, the mass of mankind were supposed to descend to Hades at death; but a few favored ones were raised to the sky, deified, and a sort of worship paid to them. So the Roman Church taught that nearly all souls passed to the subterranean abodes, but that martyrs and saints were admitted to heaven and might lawfully be prayed to.5 Thirdly, the heathen under world was subdivided into several regions, wherein different persons were disposed according to their deserts. The worst criminals were in the everlasting penal fire of Tartarus; the best heroes and sages were in the calm meadows of Elysium; the hapless children were detained in the dusky borders outside the grim realm of torture; and there was a purgatorial place where those not too guilty were cleansed from their stains. In like manner, the Romanist theologians divided the under world into four parts: hell for the final abode of the stubbornly wicked; one limbo for the painless, contented tarrying of the good patriarchs who died before the advent of Christ had made salvation possible, and another limbo for the sad and pallid resting place of those children who died unbaptized; purgatory, in which expiation is offered in agony for sins committed on earth and unatoned for.6 1 Middleton, Letter from Rome, showing an exact conformity between Popery and Paganism. 2 Lobeck, Aglaophamus, lib. i. sect. 6. Mosheim's Comm., ch. i. sect. 13. 3 Warburton, Div. Leg., book ii. sect. 4. 4 Terence, Phormio, act i scene 1. 5 Council of Trent, sess. vi. can. xxx. Sess. xxv.: Decree on Invocation of Saints. 6 See Milman, Hist. Latin Christianity, book xiv. ch. ii. Before proceeding further, we must trace the prevalence and progress of the doctrine of purgatory a little as it was known before its embodiment in mediaval mythology, and then as it was embodied there. The fundamental doctrine of the Hindu hell was that a certain amount of suffering undergone there would expiate a certain amount of guilt incurred here. When the disembodied soul had endured a sufficient quantity of retributive and purifying pain, it was loosed, and sent on earth in a new body. It was likewise a Hindu belief that the souls of deceased parents might be assisted out of this purgatorial woe by the prayers and offerings of their surviving children.7 The same doctrine was held by the Persians. They believed souls could be released from purgatory by the prayers, sacrifices, and good deeds of righteous surviving descendants and friends. "Zoroaster said he could, by prayer, send any one he chose to heaven or to hell." 8 Such representations are found obscurely in the Vendidad and more fully in the Bundehesh. The Persian doctrine that the living had power to affect the condition of the dead is further indicated in the fact that, from a belief that married persons were peculiarly happy in the future state, they often hired persons to be espoused to such of their relatives as had died in celibacy.9 The doctrine of purgatory was known and accepted among the Jews too. In the Second Book of Maccabees we read the following account: "Judas sent two thousand pieces of silver to Jerusalem to defray the expense of a sin offering to be offered for the sins of those who were slain, doing therein very well and honestly, in that he was mindful of the resurrection. For if he had not hoped that they who were slain should rise again, it had been superfluous and vain to pray for the dead. Whereupon he made an atonement for the dead, that they might be delivered from sin."10 The Rabbins taught that children by sin offerings could help their parents out of their misery in the infernal world.11 They taught, furthermore, that all souls except holy ones, like those of Rabbi Akiba and his disciples, must lave themselves in the fire river of Gehenna; that therein they shall be like salamanders; that the just shall soon be cleansed in the fire river, but the wicked shall be lastingly burned.12 Again, we find this doctrine prevailing among the Romans. In the great Forum was a stone called "Lapis Manalis," described by Festus, which was supposed to cover the entrance to hell. This was solemnly lifted three times a year, in order to let those souls flow up whose sins had been purged away by their tortures or had been remitted in consideration of the offerings and services paid for them by the living. Virgil describes how souls are purified by the action of wind, water, and fire.13 The feast day of purgatory observed by papal Rome corresponds to the Lemuria celebrated by pagan Rome, and rests on the same doctrinal basis. In the Catholic countries of Europe at the present time, on All Saints' Day, festoons of sweet smelling flowers are hung on the tomb stones, and the people kneeling there repeat the prayer prescribed for releasing the souls of their relatives and friends from the plagues of purgatory. There is a notable coincidence between the Buddhist 7 See references to "Sraddha" in index to Vishnu Purana. 8 Atkinson's trans. of the Shah Nameh, p. 386. 9 Richardson, Dissertation on the Language, Literature, and Manners of the Eastern Nations, p. 347. 10 Cap. xii. 42-45. 11 Eisenmenger, Entdecktes Judenthum, th. ii. kap. vi. s. 357. 12 Kabbala Denudata, tom ii. pars. i. pp. 108, 109, 113. 13 Aneid, lib. vi. 1. 739. and the Romanist usages. Throughout the Chinese Empire, during the seventh moon of every year, prayers are offered up accompanied by illuminations and other rites for the release of souls in purgatory. At these times the Buddhist priests hang up large pictures, showing forth the frightful scenes in the other world, to induce the people to pay them money for prayers in behalf of their suffering relatives and friends in purgatory.14 Traces of belief in a purgatory early appear among the Christians. Many of the gravest Fathers of the first five centuries naturally conceived and taught, as is indeed intrinsically reasonable, that after death some souls will be punished for their sins until they are cleansed, and then will be released from pain. The Manichaans imagined that all souls, before returning to their native heaven, must be borne first to the moon, where with good waters they would be washed pure from outward filth, and then to the sun, where they would be purged by good fires from every inward stain.15 After these lunar and solar lustrations, they were fit for the eternal world of light. But the conception of purgatory as it was held by the early Christians, whether orthodox Fathers or heretical sects, was merely the just and necessary result of applying to the subject of future punishment the two ethical ideas that punishment should partake of degrees proportioned to guilt, and that it should be restorative. Jeremy Taylor conclusively argues that the prayers for the dead used by the early Christians do not imply any belief in the Papal purgatory.16 The severity and duration of the sufferings of the dead were not supposed to be in the power of the living, either their relatives or the clergy, but to depend on the moral and physical facts of the case according to justice and necessity, qualified only by the mercy of God. Pope Gregory the Great, in the sixth century, either borrowing some of the more objectionable features of the purgatory doctrine previously held by the heathen, or else devising the same things himself from a perception of the striking adaptedness of such notions to secure an enviable power to the Church, constructed, established, and gave working efficiency to the dogmatic scheme of purgatory ever since firmly defended by the papal adherents as an integral part of the Roman Catholic system.17 The doctrine as matured and promulgated by Gregory, giving to the representatives of the Church an almost unlimited power over purgatory, rapidly grew into favor with the clergy and sank with general conviction into the hopes and fears of the laity. Venerable Bede, in the eighth century, gives a long account of the fully developed doctrine concerning purgatory, hell, paradise, and heaven. It is narrated in the form of a vision seen by Drithelm, who, in a trance, visits the regions which, on his return, he describes. The whole thing is gross, literal, horrible, closely resembling several well known descriptions given under similar circumstances and preserved in ancient heathen writers.18 The Church, seeing how admirably this instrument was calculated to promote her interest and deepen her power, left hardly any means untried to enlarge its sweep and intensify its operation. Accordingly, from the ninth to the sixteenth century, no doctrine was so central, prominent, and effective in the common teaching and 14 Asiatic Journal, 1840, p. 210, note. 15 Mosheim, Comm., III. Century, sect. 49, note 3. 16 Dissuasive from Popery, part ii. book ii. sect. 2. 17 Edgar, Variations of Popery, ch. xvi. 18 Hist. Ecc., lib. v. cap. xii. See also lib. iii. cap. xix. practice of the Church, no fear was so widely spread and vividly felt in the bosom of Christendom, as the doctrine and the fear of purgatory. The Romanist theory of man's condition in the future life is this, in brief. By the sin of Adam, heaven was closed against him and all his posterity, and the devil acquired a right to shut up their disembodied souls in the under world. In consequence of the "original sin" transmitted from Adam, every human being, besides suffering the other woes flowing from sin, was helplessly doomed to the under world after death. In addition to this penalty, each one must also answer for his own personal sins. Christ died to "deliver mankind from sin," "discharge the punishment due them," and "rescue them from the tyranny of the devil." He "descended into the under world," "subdued the devil," "despoiled the depths," "rescued the Fathers and just souls," and "opened heaven."19 "Until he rose, heaven was shut against every child of Adam, as it still is to those who die indebted." "The price paid by the Son of God far exceeded our debts." The surplus balance of merits, together with the merits accruing from the supererogatory good works of the saints and from the Divine sacrifice continually offered anew by the sacrament of the mass, constituted a reserved treasure upon which the Church was authorized to draw in behalf of any one she chose to favor. The localities of the future life were these:20 Limbus Patrum, or Abraham's Bosom, a place of peace and waiting, where the good went who died before Christ; Limbus Infantum, a mild, palliated hell, where the children go who, since Christ, have died unbaptized; Purgatory, where all sinners suffer until they are purified, or are redeemed by the Church, or until the last day; Hell, or Gehenna, whither the hopelessly wicked have always been condemned; and Heaven, whither the spotlessly good have been admitted since the ascension of Jesus. At the day of judgment the few human souls who have reached Paradise, together with the multitudes that crowd the regions of Gehenna, Purgatory, and Limbo, will reassume their bodies: the intermediate states will then be destroyed, and when their final sentence is pronounced all will depart forever, the acquitted into heaven, the condemned into hell. In the mean time, the poor victims of purgatory, by the prayers of the living for them, by the transfer of good works to their account, above all, by the celebration of masses in their behalf, may be relieved, rescued, translated to paradise. The words breathed by the spirit of the murdered King of Denmark in the ears of the horror stricken Hamlet paint the popular belief of that age in regard to the grisly realm where guilty souls were plied with horrors whereof, but that they were forbidden: "To tell the secrets of their prison house, They could a tale unfold whose lightest word Would harrow up thy soul, freeze thy young blood, Make thy two eyes, like stars, start from their spheres, Thy knotted and combined locks to part, And each particular hair to stand on end Like quills upon the fretful porcupine." 19 Catechism of the Council of Trent. 20 Thomas Aquinas, Summa Theologia, pars Suppl. Quast. 69. A few specimens of the stories embodying the ideas and superstitions current in the Middle Age may better illustrate the characteristic belief of the time than much abstract description. An unquestioning faith in the personality, visibility, and extensive agency of the devil was almost universal. Ascetics, saints, bishops, peasants, philosophers, kings, Gregory the Great, Martin Luther, all testified that they had often seen him. The mediaval conception of the devil was sometimes comical, sometimes awful. Grimm says, "He was Jewish, heathenish, Christian, idolatrous, elfish, titanic, spectral, all at once." He was "a soul snatching wolf," a "hell hound," a "whirlwind hammer;" now an infernal "parody of God" with "a mother who mimics the Virgin Mary," and now the "impersonated soul of evil."21 The well known story of Faust and the Devil, which in so many forms spread through Christendom, is so deeply significant of the faith and life of the age in which it arose that a volume would be required to unfold all its import. There was an old tradition that the students of necromancy or the black art, on reaching a certain pitch of proficiency, were obliged to run through a subterranean hall, where the devil literally caught the hindmost unless he sped so swiftly that the arch enemy could only seize his shadow, and in that case, a veritable Peter Schlemihl, he never cast a shadow afterwards! A man stood by his furnace one day casting eyes for buttons. The devil came up and asked what he was doing. "Casting eyes," replied the man. "Can you cast a pair for me?" quoth the devil. "That I can," says the man: "will you have them large or small?" "Oh, very large," answered the devil. He then ties the fiend on a bench and pours the molten lead into his eyes. Up jumps the devil, with the bench on his back, flees howling, and has never been seen since! There was also in wide circulation a wild legend to the effect that a man made a compact with the devil on the condition that he should secure a new victim for hell once in a century. As long as he did this he should enjoy life, riches, power, and a limited ubiquity; but failing a fresh victim at the end of each hundred years his own soul should be the forfeit. He lived four or five centuries, and then, in spite of his most desperate efforts, was disappointed of his expected victim on the last night of the century; and when the clock struck twelve the devil burst into his castle on a black steed and bore him off in a storm of lightning amidst the crash of thunders and the shrieks of fiends. St. Britius once during mass saw the devil in church taking account of the sins the congregation were committing. He covered the parchment all over, and, afraid of forgetting some of the offences, seized the scroll in his teeth and claws to stretch it out. It snapped, and his head was smartly bumped against the wall. St. Britius laughed aloud. The officiating priest rebuked him, but, on being told what had happened, improved the accident for the edification of his hearers.22 On the bursting of a certain glacier on the Alps, it is said the devil was seen swimming down the Rhone, a drawn sword in one hand, a golden ball in the other: opposite the town of Martigny, he cried, "Rise," and instantly the obedient river swelled above its banks and destroyed the town. Ignes fatui, hovering about marshes and misty places, were thought to be the spirits of unbaptized children endeavoring to guide travellers to the nearest water. A kindred fancy 21 Deutsche Mythologie, cap. xxxiii.: Teufel. 22 Quarterly Review, Jan. 1820: Pop. Myth. of the Middle Ages. also heard a spectral pack, called "yell hounds," afterwards corrupted to "hell hounds," composed of the souls of unbaptized children, which could not rest, but roamed and howled through the woods all night.23 A touching popular myth said, the robin's breast is so red because it flies into hell with drops of water in its bill to relieve the children there, and gets scorched. In 1171, Silo, a philosopher, implored a dying pupil of his to come back and reveal his state in the other world. A few days after his death the scholar appeared in a cowl of flames covered with logical propositions. He told Silo that he was from purgatory, that the cowl weighed on him worse than a tower, and said he was doomed to wear it for the pride he took in sophisms. As he thus spoke he let fall a drop of sweat on his master's hand, piercing it through. The next day Silo said to his scholars, "I leave croaking to frogs, cawing to crows, and vain things to the vain, and hie me to the logic which fears not death." "Linquo coax ranis, cras corvis, vanaque vanis, Ad logicen pergo qua mortis non timet ergo." 24 In the long, quaint poem, "Vision of William concerning Piers Ploughman," written probably by Robert Langland about the year 1362, there are many things illustrative of our subject. "I, Trojanus, a true knight, after death was condemned to hell for dying unbaptized. But, on account of my mercy and truth in administering the laws, the pope wished me to be saved; and God mercifully heard him and saved me without the help of masses."25 "Ever since the fall of Adam, Age has shaken the Tree of Human Life, and the devil has gathered the fruit into hell."26 The author gives a most spirited account of Christ's descent into the under world after his death, his battle with the devils there, his triumph over them, his rescue of Adam, and other particulars.27 In this poem, as in nearly all the extant productions of that period, there are copious evidences of the extent and power of the popular faith in the devil and in purgatory, and in their close connection with the present life, a faith nourishingly embodied in thousands of singular tales. Thomas Wright has collected many of these in his antiquarian works. He relates an amusing incident that once befell a minstrel who had been borne into hell by a devil. The devils went forth in a troop to ensnare souls on earth. Lucifer left the minstrel in charge of the infernal regions, promising, if he let no souls escape, to treat him on the return with a fat monk roasted, or a usurer dressed with hot sauce. But while the fiends were away St. Peter came, in disguise, and allured the minstrel to play at dice, and to stake the souls which were in torture under his care. Peter won, and carried them off in triumph. The devils, coming back and finding the fires all out and hell empty, kicked the hapless minstrel out, and Lucifer swore a big oath that no minstrel should ever darken the door of hell again! The mediaval belief in a future life was practically concentrated, for the most part, around the ideas of Satan, purgatory, the last judgment, hell. The faith in Christ, God, 23 Allies, Antiquities of Worcestershire, 2d ed. p. 256. 24 Michelet, Hist. de France, livre iv. chap. ix. 25 Vision of Dowell, part iii. 26 Vision of Dobet, part ii. 27 Ibid., part iv. heaven, was much rarer and less influential. Neander says, "The inmost distinction of mediaval experience was an awful sense of another life and an invisible world." A most piteous illustration of the conjoined faith and fear of that age is furnished by an old dialogue between the "Soul and the Body" recently edited by Halliwell, an expression of humble trust and crouching horror irresistibly pathetic in its simplicity.28 A flood of revealing light is given as to the energy with which the doctrine of purgatory impressed itself on the popular mind, by the two facts, first, that the Council of Auxerre, in 1578, prohibited the administration of the eucharist to the dead; and, secondly, that in the eleventh and twelfth centuries "crosses of absolution" that is, crosses cut out of sheet lead, with the formula of absolution engraved on them were quite commonly buried with the dead.29 The eager sincerity of the mediaval belief in another life is attested, too, by the correspondence of the representations of the dead in their legends to the appearance, disposition, and pursuits they had in life. No oblivious draught, no pure spiritualization, had freed the departed souls from earthly bonds and associations. Light pretexts drew them back to their wonted haunts. A buried treasure allowed them no rest till they had led some one to raise it. An unfinished task, an uncancelled obligation, forced them again to the upper world. In ruined castles the ghosts of knights, in their accustomed habiliments, held tournaments and carousals. The priest read mass; the hunter pursued his game; the spectre robber fell on the benighted traveller.30 It is hard for us now to reproduce, even in imagination, the fervid and frightful earnestness of the popular faith of the Middle Age in the ramifying agency of the devil and in the horrors of purgatory. We will try to do it, in some degree, by a series of illustrations aiming to show at once how prevalent such a belief and fear were, and how they became so prevalent. First, we may specify the teaching of the Church whose authority in spiritual concerns bore almost unquestioned sway over the minds of more than eighteen generations. By the logical subtleties of her scholastic theologians, by the persuasive eloquence of her popular preachers, by the frantic ravings of her fanatic devotees, by the parading proclamation of her innumerable pretended miracles, by the imposing ceremonies of her dramatic ritual, almost visibly opening heaven and hell to the over awed congregation, by her wonder working use of the relics of martyrs and saints to exorcise demons from the possessed and to heal the sick, and by her anathemas against all who were supposed to be hostile to her formulas, she infused the ideas of her doctrinal system into the intellect, heart, and fancy of the common people, and nourished the collateral horrors, until every wave of her wand convulsed the world. In a pastoral letter addressed to the Carlovingian prince Louis, the grandson of Charlemagne, a letter probably composed by the famous Hincmar, bearing date 858, and signed by the Bishops of Rheims and Rouen, a Gallic synod authoritatively declared that Charles Martel was damned; "that on the opening of his tomb the spectators were affrighted by a smell of fire and the aspect of a horrid dragon, and that a saint of the times was indulged with a pleasant vision of the soul and body of this great hero burning to all eternity in the abyss of hell." 28 Early English Miscellanies, No. 2. 29 London Antiquaries' Archaologis, vol. xxxv. art. 22. 30 Thorpe, Northern Mythology, vol. i., appendix. A tremendous impulse, vivifying and emphasizing the eschatological notions of the time, an impulse whose effects did not cease when it died, was imparted by that frightful epidemic expectation of the impending end of the world which wellnigh universally prevailed in Christendom about the year 1000. Many of the charters given at that time commence with the words, "As the world is now drawing to a close." 31 This expectation drew additional strength from the unutterable sufferings famine, oppression, pestilence, war, superstition then weighing on the people. "The idea of the end of the world," we quote from Michelet, "sad as that world was, was at once the hope and the terror of the Middle Age. Look at those antique statues of the tenth and eleventh centuries, mute, meager, their pinched and stiffened lineaments grinning with a look of living suffering allied to the repulsiveness of death. See how they implore, with clasped hands, that desired yet dreaded moment when the resurrection shall redeem them from their unspeakable sorrows and raise them from nothingness into existence and from the grave to God." Furthermore, this superstitious character of the mediaval belief in the future life acquired breadth and intensity from the profound general ignorance and trembling credulousness of that whole period on all subjects. It was an age of marvels, romances, fears, when every landscape of life "wore a strange hue, as if seen through the sombre medium of a stained casement." While congregations knelt in awe beneath the lifted Host, and the image of the dying Savior stretched on the rood glimmered through clouds of incense, perhaps an army of Flagellants would march by the cathedral, shouting, "The end of the world is at hand!" filling the streets with the echoes of their torture as they lashed their naked backs with knotted cords wet with blood; and no soul but must shudder with the infection of horror as the dreadful notes of the "Dies Iioe" went sounding through the air. The narratives of the desert Fathers, the miracles wrought in convent cells, the visions of pillar saints, the thrilling accompaniments of the Crusades, and other kindred influences, made the world a perpetual mirage. The belching of a volcano was the vomit of uneasy hell. The devil stood before every tempted man, Ghosts walked in every nightly dell. Ghastly armies were seen contending where the aurora borealis hung out its bloody banners. The Huns under Attila, ravaging Southern Europe, were thought to be literal demons who had made an irruption from the pit. The metaphysician was in peril of the stake as a heretic, the natural philosopher as a magician. A belief in witchcraft and a trust in ordeals were universal, even from Pope Eugenius, who introduced the trial by cold water, and King James, who wrote volumes on magic, to the humblest monk who shuddered when passing the church crypt, and the simplest peasant who quaked in his homeward path at seeing a will o' the wisp. "Denounced by the preacher and consigned to the flames by the judge, the wizard received secret service money from the Cabinet to induce him to destroy the hostile armament as it sailed before the wind." As a vivid writer has well said, "A gloomy mist of credulity enwrapped the cathedral and the hall of justice, the cottage and the throne. In the dank shadows of the universal ignorance a thousand superstitions, like foul animals of night, were propagated and nourished." 31 Hallam, Middle Ages, ch. ix. The beliefs and excitements of the mediaval period partook of a sort of epidemic character, diffusing and working like a contagion.32 There were numberless throngs of pilgrims to famous shrines, immense crowds about the localities of popular legends, relics, or special grace. In the magnetic sphere of such a fervid and credulous multitude, filled with the kindling interaction of enthusiasm, of course prodigies would abound, fables would flourish, and faith would be doubly generated and fortified. In commemoration of a miraculous act of virtue performed by St. Francis, the pope offered to all who should enter the church at Assisi between the eve of the 1st and the eve of the 2d of August each year that being the anniversary of the saint's achievement a free pardon for all the sins committed by them since their baptism. More than sixty thousand pilgrims sometimes flocked thither on that day. Every year some were crushed to death in the suffocating pressure at the entrance of the church. Nearly two thousand friars walked in procession; and for a series of years the pilgrimage to Portiuncula might have vied with that to the temple of Juggernaut.33 Nothing tends more to strengthen any given belief than to see it everywhere carried into practice and to act in accordance with it. Thus was it with the mediaval doctrine of the future life. Its applications and results were constantly and universally thrust into notice by the sale of indulgences and the launching of excommunications. Early in the ninth century, Charlemagne complained that the bishops and abbots forced property from foolish people by promises and threats: "Suadendo de coelestis regni beatitudine, comminando de oeterno supplicio inferni."34 The rival mendicant orders, the Franciscans and the Dominicans, acquired great riches and power by the traffic in indulgences. They even had the impudence to affirm that the members of their orders were privileged above all other men in the next world. Milton alludes to those who credited these monstrous assumptions: "And they who, to be sure of Paradise, Dying, put on the weeds of Dominic, Or in Franciscan think to pass disguised." The Council of Basle censured the claim of the Franciscan monks that their founder annually descended to purgatory and led thence to heaven the souls of all those who had belonged to his order. The Carmelites also asserted that the Virgin Mary appeared to Simon Stockius, the general of their order, and gave him a solemn promise that the souls of such as left the world with the Carmelite scapulary upon their shoulders should be infallibly preserved from eternal damnation. Mosheim says that Pope Benedict XIV. was an open defender of this ridiculous fiction.35 If any one would appreciate the full mediaval doctrine of the future life, whether with respect to the hair drawn scholastic metaphysics by which it was defended, or with respect to the concrete forms in which the popular apprehension held it, let him read the Divina Commedia of Dante; for it is all there. Whoso with adequate insight and sympathy peruses 32 Hecker, Epidemics of the Middle Ages. 33 Quarterly Review, July, 1819: article on Monachism. 34 Perry, History of the Franks, p. 467. 35 Eccl. Hist., XIII. Century, part ii. ch. 2, sect. 29. the pages of the immortal Florentine at whom the people pointed as he walked the streets, and said, "There goes the man who has been in hell" will not fail to perceive with what a profound sincerity the popular breast shuddered responsive to ecclesiastical threats and purgatorial woes. The tremendous moral power of this solitary work lies in the fact that it is a series of terrific and fascinating tableaux, embodying the idea of inflexible poetic justice impartially administered upon king and varlet, pope and beggar, oppressor and victim, projected amidst the unalterable necessities of eternity, and moving athwart the lurid abyss and the azure cope with an intense distinctness that sears the gazer's eyeballs. The Divina Commedia, with a wonderful truth, also reflects the feeling of the age when it was written in this respect, that there is a grappling force of attraction, a compelling realism, about its "Purgatory" and "Hell" which are to be sought in vain in the delineations of its "Paradise." The mediaval belief in a future life had for its central thought the day of judgment, for its foremost emotion terror.36 The roots of this faith were unquestionably fertilized, and the development of this fear quickened, to a very great extent, by deliberate and systematic delusions. One of the most celebrated of these organized frauds was the gigantic one perpetrated under the auspices of the Dominican monks at Berne in 1509, the chief actors in which were unmasked and executed. Bishop Burnet has given an extremely interesting account of this affair in his volume of travels. Suffice it to say, the monks appeared at midnight in the cells of various persons, now impersonating devils, in horrid attire, breathing flames and brimstone, now claiming to be the souls of certain sufferers escaped from purgatory, and again pretending to be celebrated saints, with the Virgin Mary at their head. By the aid of mechanical and chemical arrangements, they wrought miracles, and played on the terror and credulity of the spectators in a frightful manner.37 There is every reason to suppose that such deceptions miracles in which secret speaking tubes, asbestos, and phosphorus were indispensable38 were most frequent in those ages, and were as effective as the actors were unscrupulous and the dupes unsuspicious. Here is revealed one of the foremost of the causes which made the belief of the Dark Age in the numerous appearances of ghosts and devils so common and so intense that it gave currency to the notion that the swarming spirits of purgatory were disembogued from dusk till dawn. So the Danish monarch, revisiting the pale glimpses of the moon, says to Hamlet, "I am thy father's spirit, Doom'd for a certain time to walk the night, And for the day confined to fast in fires, Till the foul crimes done in my days of nature Are burnt and purged away." 36 If any one would see in how many forms the faith in hell and in the devil appeared, let him look over the pages of the "Dictionnaire Infernal," by J. Collin de Plancy. 37 Maclaine's trans, of Mosheim's Eccl. Hist., vol. ii. p. 10, note. 38 Manufactures of the Ancients, pub. by Harper and Brothers, 1845, part iv. ch. 3. When the shadows began to fall thick behind the sunken sun, these poor creatures were thought to spring from their beds of torture, to wander amidst the scenes of their sins or to haunt the living; but at the earliest scent of morn, the first note of the cock, they must hie to their fire again. Midnight was the high noon of ghostly and demoniac revelry on the earth. As the hour fell with brazen clang from the tower, the belated traveller, afraid of the rustle of his own dress, the echo of his own footfall, the wavering of his own shadow, afraid of his own thoughts, would breathe the suppressed invocation, "Angels and ministers of grace defend us!" as the idea crept curdling over his brain and through his veins, "It is the very witching time of night, When churchyards yawn and hell itself breathes out Contagion to this world." Working in alliance with the foregoing forces of superstition was the powerful influence of the various forms of insanity which remarkably abounded in the Middle Age. The insane person, it was believed, was possessed by a demon. His ravings, his narratives, were eagerly credited; and they were usually full of infernal visions, diabolical interviews, encounters with apparitions, and every thing that would naturally arise in a deranged and preternaturally sensitive mind from the chief conceptions then current concerning the invisible world.39 The principal works of art exposed to the people were such as served to impress upon their imaginations the Church doctrine of the future life in all its fearfulness, with its vigorous dramatic points. In the cathedral at Antwerp there is a representation of hell carved in wood, whose marvellous elaborateness astonishes, and whose painful expressiveness oppresses, every beholder. With what excruciating emotions the pious crowds must have contemplated the harrowingly vivid paintings of the Inferno, by Orcagna, still to be seen in the Campo Santo of Pisa! In the cathedral at Canterbury there was a window on which was painted a detailed picture of Christ vanquishing the devils in their own domain; but we believe it has been removed. However, the visitor still sees on the fine east window of York Cathedral the final doom of the wicked, hell being painted as an enormous mouth; also in the west front of Lincoln Cathedral an ancient bas relief representing hell as a monstrous mouth vomiting flame and serpents, with two human beings walking into it. The minster at Freyburg has a grotesque bas relief over its main portal, representing the Judgment. St. Nicholas stands in the centre, and the Savior is seated above him. On the left, an angel weighs mankind in a huge pair of scales, and a couple of malicious imps try to make the human scale kick the beam. Underneath, St. Peter is ushering the good into Paradise. On the right is shown a devil, with a pig's head, dragging after him a throng of the wicked. He also has a basket on his back filled with figures whom he is in the act of flinging into a reeking caldron stirred by several imps. Hell is typified, on one side, by the jaws of a monster crammed to the teeth with reprobates, and Satan is seen sitting on his throne above them. A recent traveller writes from 39 De Boismont, Rational Hist. of Hallucivatious, ch. xiv. Naples, "The favorite device on the church walls here is a vermilion picture of a male and a female soul, respectively up to the waist [the waist of a soul!] in fire, with an angel over each watering them from a water pot. This is meant to get money from the compassionate to pay for the saying of masses in behalf of souls in purgatory." Ruskin has described some of the church paintings of the Last Judgment by the old masters as possessing a power even now sufficient to stir every sensibility to its depths. Such works, gazed on day after day, while multitudes were kneeling beneath in the shadowy aisles, and clouds of incense were floating above, and the organ was pealing and the choir chanting in full accord, must produce lasting effects on the imagination, and thus contribute in return to the faith and fear which inspired them. Villani as also Sismondi gives a description of a horrible representation of hell shown at Florence in 1304 by the inhabitants of San Priano, on the river Arno. The glare of flames, the shrieks of men disguised as devils, scenes of infernal torture, filled the night. Unfortunately, the scaffolding broke beneath the crowd, and many spectators were burned or drowned, and that which began as an entertaining spectacle ended as a direful reality. The whole affair is a forcible illustration of the literality with which the popular mind and faith apprehended the notion of the infernal world. Another means by which the views we have been considering were both expressed and recommended to the senses and belief of the people was those miracle plays that formed one of the most peculiar features of the Middle Age. These plays, founded on, and meant to illustrate, Scripture narratives and theological doctrines, were at first enacted by the priests in the churches, afterwards by the various trading companies or guilds of mechanics. In 1210, Pope Gregory "forbade the clergy to take any part in the plays in churches or in the mummings at festivals." A similar prohibition was published by the Council of Treves, in 1227. The Bishop of Worms, in 1316, issued a proclamation against the abuses which had crept into the festivities of Easter, and gives a long and curious description of them.40 There were two popular festivals, of which Michelet gives a full and amusing description, one called the "Fete of the Tipsy Priests," when they elected a Bishop of Unreason, offered him incense of burned leather, sang obscene songs in the choir, and turned the altar into a dice table; the other called the "Fete of the Cuckolds," when the laymen crowned each other with leaves, the priests wore their surplices wrong side out and threw bran in each others' eyes, and the bell ringers pelted each other with biscuits. There is a religious play by Calderon, entitled "The Divine Orpheus," in which the entire Church scheme of man's fall the devil's empire, Christ's descent there, and the victorious sequel is embodied in a most effective manner. In the priestly theology and in the popular heart of those times there was no other single particular one tenth part so prominent and vivid as that of Christ's entrance after his death into hell to rescue the old saints and break down Satan's power.41 40 Early Mysteries and Latin Poems of the XII. and XIII. Centuries, edited by Thomas Wright. See the eloquent sermon on this subject preached by Luis de Granada in the sixteenth century. Ticknor's Hist. Spanish Lit., vol. iii. pp. 123-127. Peter Lombard says, "What did the Redeemer do to the despot who had us in his bonds? He offered him the cross as a mouse trap, and put his blood on it as bait." 42 About that scene there was an incomparable fascination for every believer. Christ laid aside his Godhead and died. The devil thought he had secured a new victim, and humanity swooned in grief and despair. But, lo! the Crucified, descending to the inexorable dungeons, puts on all his Divinity, and suddenly "The captive world awakt, and founde The pris'ner loose, the jailer bounde!" 43 A large proportion of the miracle plays, or Mysteries, turned on this event. In the "Mystery of the Resurrection of Christ" occurs the following couplet: "This day the angelic King has risen, Leading the pious from their prison." 44 The title of one of the principal plays in the Towneley Mysteries is "Extractio Animarum ab Inferno." It describes Christ descending to the gates of hell to claim his own. Adam sees afar the gleam of his coming, and with his companions begins to sing for joy. The infernal porter shouts to the other demons, in alarm, "Since first that hell was made and I was put therein, Such sorrow never ere I had, nor heard I such a din. My heart begins to start; my wit it waxes thin; I am afraid we can't rejoice, these souls must from us go. Ho, Beelzebub! bind these boys: such noise was never heard in hell." Satan vows he will dash Beelzebub's brains out for frightening him so. Meanwhile, Christ draws near, and says, "Lift up your gates, ye princes, and be ye lifted up, ye everlasting doors, and the King of glory shall come in." The portals fly asunder. Satan shouts up to his friends, "Dyng the dastard down;" but Beelzebub replies, "That is easily said." Jesus and the devil soon meet, face to face. A long colloquy ensues, in the course of which the latter tells the former that he knew his Father well by sight! At last Jesus frees Adam, Eve, the prophets, and others, and ascends, leaving the devil in the lowest pit, resolving that hell shall soon be fuller than before; for he will walk east and he will walk west, and he will seduce thousands from their allegiance. Another play, similar to the foregoing, but much more extensively known and acted, was called the "Harrowing of Hell." Christ and Satan appear on the stage and argue in the most approved scholastic style for the right of possession in the human race. Satan says, "Whoever purchases any thing, It belongs to him and to his children. Adam, hungry, came to me; 42 Sententia, lib. iii. distinctio 19. 43 Hone, Ancient Mysteries. 44 "Resurrexit hodie Rex angelorum Ducitur de tenebris turba piorum." I made him do me homage: For an apple, which I gave him, He and all his race belong to me." But Christ instantly puts a different aspect on the argument, by replying, "Satan! it was mine, The apple thou gavest him. The apple and the apple tree Both were made by me. As he was purchased with my goods, With reason will I have him." 45 In a religious Mystery exhibited at Lisbon as late as the close of the eighteenth century, the following scene occurs. Cain kicks his brother Abel badly and kills him. A figure like a Chinese mandarin, seated in a chair, condemns Cain and is drawn up into the clouds. The mouth of hell then appears, like the jaws of a great dragon: amid smoke and lightning it casts up three devils, one of them having a wooden leg. These take a dance around Cain, and are very jocose, one of them inviting him to hell to take a cup of brimstone coffee, and another asking him to make up a party at whist. Cain snarls, and they tumble him and themselves headlong into the squib vomiting mouth. Various books of accounts kept by the trading companies who celebrated these Mysteries of the expenses incurred have been published, and are exceedingly amusing. "Item: payd for kepyng of fyer at hellmothe, four pence." "For a new hoke to hang Judas, six pence." "Item: payd for mendyng and payntyng hellmouthe, two pence." "Girdle for God, nine pence." "Axe for Pilatte's son, one shilling." "A staff for the demon, one penny." "God's coat of white leather, three shillings." The stage usually consisted of three platforms. On the highest sat God, surrounded by his angels. On the next were the saints in Paradise, the intermediate state of the good after death. On the third were mere men yet living in the world. On one side of the lowest stage, in the rear, was a fearful cave or yawning mouth filled with smoke and flames, and denoting hell. From this ever and anon would issue the howls and shrieks of the damned. Amidst hideous yellings, devils would rush forth and caper about and snatch hapless souls into this pit to their doom.46 The actors, in their mock rage, sometimes leaped from the pageant into the midst of the laughing, screaming, trembling crowd. The dramatis personoe included many queer characters, such as a "Worm of Conscience," "Deadman," (representing a soul delivered from hell at the descent of Christ,) numerous "Damned Souls," dressed in flame colored garments, "Theft," "Lying," "Gluttony." But the devil himself was the favorite character; and often, when his personified vices jumped on him and pinched and cudgelled him till he roared, the mirth of the honest audience knew no bounds. For there were in the Middle Age two sides to the popular idea of the devil and of all appertaining to him. He was a soul harrowing bugbear or a rib shaking jest according to the hour and one's 45 Halliwell's edition of the Harrowing of Hell, p. 18. 46 Sharp, Essay on the Dramatic Mysteries, p. 24. humor. Rabelais's Pantagruel is filled with irresistible burlesques of the doctrine of purgatory. The ludicrous side of this subject may be seen by reading Tarlton's "Jests" and his "Newes out of Purgatorie." 47 Glimpses of it are also to be caught through many of the humorous passages in Shakspeare. Dromio says of an excessively fat and greasy kitchen wench, "If she lives till doomsday she'll burn a week longer than the whole world!" And Falstaff, cracking a kindred joke on Bardolph's carbuncled nose, avows his opinion that it will serve as a flaming beacon to light lost souls the way to purgatory! Again, seeing a flea on the same flaming proboscis, the doughty knight affirmed it was "a black soul burning in hell fire." In this element of mediaval life, this feature of mediaval literature, a terrible belief lay under the gay raillery. Here is betrayed, on a wide scale, that natural reaction of the faculties from excessive oppression to sportive wit, from deep repugnance to superficial jesting, which has often been pointed out by philosophical observers as a striking fact in the psychological history of man. One more active and mighty cause of the dreadful faith and fear with which the Middle Age contemplated the future life was the innumerable and frightful woes, crimes, tyrannies, instruments of torture, engines of persecution, insane superstitions, which then existed, making its actual life a hell. The wretchedness and cruelty of the present world were enough to generate frightful beliefs and cast appalling shadows over the future. If the earth was full of devils and phantoms, surely hell must swarm worse with them. The Inquisition sat shrouded and enthroned in supernatural obscurity of cunning and awfulness of power, and thrust its invisible daggers everywhere. The facts men knew here around them gave credibility to the imagery in which the hereafter was depicted. The flaming stakes of an Auto da Fe around which the victims of ecclesiastical hatred writhed were but faint emblems of what awaited their souls in the realm of demons whereto the tender mercies of the Church consigned them. Indeed, the fate of myriads of heretics and traitors could not fail to project the lurid vision of hell with all its paraphernalia into the imaginations of the people of the Dark Age. The glowing lava of purgatory heated the soil they trod, and a smell of its sulphur surcharged the air. A stupendous revelation of terror, bearing whole volumes of direful meaning, is given in the single fact that it was a common belief of that period that the holy Inquisitors would sit with Christ in the judgment at the last day.48 If king or noble took offence at some uneasy retainer or bold serf, he ordered him to be secretly buried in the cell of some secluded fortress, and he was never heard of more. So, if pope or priest hated or feared some stubborn thinker, he straightway, "Would banish him to wear a burning chain In the great dungeons of the unforgiven, Beneath the space deep castle walls of heaven." It was an age of cruelty, never to be restored, when the world was boiling in tempest and men rode on the crests of fear. 47 Recently edited by Halliwell and published by the Shakspeare Society. 48 Hagenbach, Dogmengeschichte, sect. 205. Researches made within the last century among the remains of famous mediaval edifices, both ecclesiastic and state, have brought to light the dismal records of forgotten horrors. In many a royal palace, priestly building, and baronial castle, there were secret chambers full of infernal machinery contrived for inflicting tortures, and under them concealed trap doors opening into rayless dungeons with no outlet and whose floors were covered with the mouldering bones of unfortunate wretches who had mysteriously disappeared long ago and tracelessly perished there. Sometimes these trap doors were directly above profound pits of water, in which the victim would drown as he dropped from the mangling hooks, racks, and pincers of the torture chamber. There were horrible rumors current in the Middle Age of a machine called the "Virgin," used for putting men to death; but little was known about it, and it was generally supposed to be a fable, until, some years ago one of the identical machines was discovered in an old Austrian castle. It was a tall wooden woman, with a painted face, which the victim was ordered to kiss. As he approached to offer the salute, he trod on a spring, causing the machine to fly open, stretch out a pair of iron arms, and draw him to its breast covered with a hundred sharp spikes, which pierced him to death.49 Ignorance and alarm, in a suffering and benighted age, surrounded by sounds of superstition and sights of cruelty, must needs breed and foster a horrid faith in regard to the invisible world. Accordingly, the common doctrine of the future life prevailing in Christendom from the ninth century till the sixteenth was as we have portrayed it. Of course there are exceptions to be admitted and qualifications to be made; but, upon the whole, the picture is faithful. Fortunately, intellect and soul could not slumber forever, nor the mediaval nightmares always keep their torturing seat on the bosom of humanity. Noble men arose to vindicate the rights of reason and the divinity of conscience. The world was circumnavigated, and its revolution around the sun was demonstrated. A thousand truths were discovered, a thousand inventions introduced. Papacy tottered, its prestige waned, its infallibility sunk. The light of knowledge shone, the simplicity of nature was seen, and the benignity of God was surmised. Thought, throwing off many restrictions and accumulating much material, began to grow free, and began to grow wise. And so, before the calm, steady gaze of enlightened and cheerful reason, the live and crawling smoke of hell, which had so long enwreathed the mind of the time with its pendent and breathing horrors, gradually broke up and dissolved, "Like a great superstitious snake, uncurled From the pale temples of the awakening world." 49 The Kiss of the Virgin, in the Archaologia published by the Antiquaries of London, vol. xxviii. CHAPTER III. MODERN DOCTRINE OF A FUTURE LIFE. THE folly and paganism of some of the Church dogmas, the rapacious haughtiness of its spirit, the tyranny of its rule, and the immoral character of many of its practices, had often awakened the indignant protests and the determined opposition of men of enlightened minds, vigorous consciences, and generous hearts, both in its bosom and out of it. Many such men, vainly struggling to purify the Church from its iniquitous errors or to relieve mankind from its outrageous burdens, had been silenced and crushed by its relentless might. Arnold, Wickliffe, Wessel, Savonarola, and a host of others, are to be gratefully remembered forever as the heroic though unsuccessful forerunners of the mighty monk of Wittenberg.1 The corruption of the mediaval Church grew worse, and became so great as to stir a very extensive disgust and revulsion. Wholesale pardons for all their sins were granted indiscriminately to those who accepted the terms of the papal officials; while every independent thinker, however evangelical his faith and exemplary his character, was hopelessly doomed to hell. Especially were these pardons given to pilgrims and to the Crusaders. Bernard of Clairvaux, exhorting the people to undertake a new Crusade, tells them that "God condescends to invite into his service murderers, robbers, adulterers, perjurers, and those sunk in other crimes; and whosoever falls in this cause shall secure pardon for the sins which he has never confessed with contrite heart."2 At the opening of "Piers the Ploughman's Crede" a person is introduced saying, "I saw a company of pilgrims on their way to Rome, who came home with leave to lie all the rest of their lives!" Nash, in his "Lenten Stuff," speaks of a proclamation which caused "three hundred thousand people to roam to Rome for purgatorie pills." Ecclesiasticism devoured ethics. Allegiance to morality was lowered into devotion to a ritual. The sale of indulgences at length became too impudent and blasphemous to be any longer endured, when John Tetzel, a Dominican monk, travelled over Europe, and, setting up his auction block in the churches, offered for sale those famous indulgences of Leo X. which promised, to every one rich enough to pay the requisite price, remission of all sins, however enormous, and whether past, present, or future!3 This brazen but authorized charlatan boasted that "he had saved more souls from hell by the sale of indulgences than St. Peter had converted to Christianity by his preaching." He also said that "even if any one had ravished the Mother of God he could sell him a pardon for it!" The soul of Martin Luther took fire. The consequence to which a hundred combining causes contributed was the Protestant Reformation. This great movement produced, in relation to our subject, three important results. It noticeably modified the practice and the popular preaching of the Roman Catholic Church. 1 Ullmann, Reformatoren vor der Reformation. 2 Epist. CCCLXIII. ad Orientalis Francia Clerum et Populum. 3 D'Aubigne, Hist. Reformation, book iii. The dogmas of the Romanist theology remained as they were before. But a marked change took place in the public conduct of the papal functionaries. Morality was made more prominent, and mere ritualism less obtrusive. Comparatively speaking, an emphasis was taken from ecclesiastic confession and indulgence, and laid upon ethical obedience and piety. The Council of Trent, held at this time, says, in its decree concerning indulgences, "In granting indulgences, the Church desires that moderation be observed, lest, by excessive facility, ecclesiastical discipline be enervated." Imposture became more cautious, threats less frequent and less terrible; the teeth of persecution were somewhat blunted; miracles grew rarer; the insufferable glare of purgatory and hell faded, and the open traffic in forgiveness of sins, or the compounding for deficiencies, diminished. But among the more ignorant papal multitudes the mediaval superstition holds its place still in all its virulence and grossness. "Heaven and hell are as much a part of the Italian's geography as the Adriatic and the Apennines; the Queen of Heaven looks on the streets as clear as the morning star; and the souls in purgatory are more readily present to conception than the political prisoners immured in the dungeons of Venice." A second consequence of the Reformation is seen in the numerous dissenting sects to which its issues gave rise. The chief peculiarities of the Protestant doctrines of the future life are embodied in the four leading denominations commonly known as Lutheran, Calvinistic, Unitarian, and Universalist. Each of these includes a number of subordinate parties bearing distinctive names, (such as Arminian, Presbyterian, Methodist, Baptist, Restorationist, and many others;) but these minor differences are too trivial to deserve distinctive characterization here. The Lutheran formula is that, through the sacrifice of Christ, salvation is offered to all who will accept it by a sincere faith. Some will comply with these terms and secure heaven; others will not, and so will be lost forever. Luther's views were not firmly defined and consistent throughout his career; they were often obscure, and they fluctuated much. It is true he always insisted that there was no salvation without faith, and that all who had faith should be saved. But, while he generally seems to believe in the current doctrine of eternal damnation, he sometimes appears to encourage the hope that all will finally be saved. In a remarkable letter to Hansen von Rechenberg, dated 1522, he says, in effect, "Whoso hath faith in Christ shall be saved. God forbid that I should limit the time for acquiring this faith to the present life! In the depths of the Divine mercy, there may be opportunity to win it in the future state." The Calvinistic formula is that heaven is attainable only for those whom the arbitrary predestination of God has elected; all others are irretrievably damned. Calvin was the first Christian theologian who succeeded in giving the fearful doctrine of unconditional election and reprobation a lodgment in the popular breast. The Roman Catholic Church had earnestly repudiated it. Gotteschalk was condemned and died in prison for advocating it, in the ninth century. But Calvin's character enabled him to believe it, and his talents and position gave great weight to his advocacy of it, and it has since been widely received. Catholicism, Lutheranism, Calvinism, all agreed in the general proposition that by sin physical death came into the world, heaven was shut against man, and all men utterly lost. They differed only in some unessential details concerning the condition of that lost state. They also agreed in the general proposition that Christ came, by his incarnation, death, descent to hell, resurrection, and ascension, to redeem men from their lost state. They only differed in regard to the precise grounds and extent of that redemption. The Catholic said, Christ's atonement wiped off the whole score of original sin, and thus enabled man to win heaven by moral fidelity and the help of the Church. The Lutheran said, Christ's atonement made all the sins of those who have faith, pardonable; and all may have faith. The Calvinist said, God foresaw that man would fall and incur damnation, and he decreed that a few should be snatched as brands from the burning, while the mass should be left to eternal torture; and Christ's atonement purchased the predestined salvation of the chosen few. Furthermore, Lutherans and Calvinists, in all their varieties, agree with the Romanist in asserting that Christ shall come again, the dead be raised bodily, a universal judgment be held, and that then the condemned shall sink into the everlasting fire of hell, and the accepted rise into the endless bliss of heaven. The Socinian doctrine relative to the future fate of man differed from the foregoing in the following particulars. First, it limited the redeeming mission of Christ to the enlightening influences of the truths which he proclaimed with Divine authority, the moral power of his perfect example, and the touching motives exhibited in his death. Secondly, it asserted a natural ability in every man to live a life conformed to right reason and sound morality, and promised heaven to all who did this in obedience to the instructions and after the pattern of Christ. Thirdly, it declared that the wicked, after suffering excruciating agonies, would be annihilated. Respecting the second coming of Christ, a physical resurrection of the dead, and a day of judgment, the Socinians believed with the other sects.4 Their doctrine scarcely corresponds with that of the present Unitarians in any thing. The dissent of the Unitarian from the popular theology is much more fundamental, detailed, and consistent than that of the Socinian was, and approaches much closer to the Rationalism of the present day. The Universalist formula every soul created by God shall sooner or later be saved from sin and woe and inherit everlasting happiness has been publicly defended in every age of the Christian Church.5 It was first publicly condemned as a heresy at the very close of the fourth century. It ranks among its defenders the names of Clement of Alexandria, Origen, Gregory of Nazianzus, Gregory of Nyssa, and several other prominent Fathers. Universalism has been held in four forms, on four grounds. First, it has been supposed that Christ died for all, and that, by the infinite efficacy of his redeeming merits, all sins shall be cancelled and every soul be saved. This was the scheme of those early Universalist Christians whom Epiphanius condemns as heretics; also of a few in more modern times. Secondly, it has been thought that each person would be punished in the future state according to the deeds done in the body, each sin be expiated by a proportionate amount of suffering, the retribution of some souls being severe and long, that of others light and brief; but, every penalty being at 4 Flugge gives a full exposition of these points with references to the authorities. Lehre vom Zustande, u. s. f., abth. ii. ss. 243-260. 5 Dietelmaier, Commenti Fanatici [non-ASCII characters omitted] Hist. Antiquar. length exhausted, the last victim would be restored. This was the notion of Origen, the basis of the doctrine of purgatory, and the view of most of the Restorationists. Thirdly, it has been imagined that, by the good pleasure and fixed laws of God, all men are destined to an impartial, absolute, and instant salvation beyond the grave: all sins are justly punished, all moral distinctions equitably compensated, in this life; in the future an equal glory awaits all men, by the gracious and eternal election of God, as revealed to us in the benignant mission of Christ. This is the peculiar conception distinguishing some members of the denomination now known as Universalists. Finally, it has been believed that the freedom and probation granted here extend into the life to come; that the aim of all future punishment will be remedial, beneficent, not revengeful; that stronger motives will be applied for producing repentance, and grander attractions to holiness be felt; and that thus, at some time or other, even the most sunken and hardened souls will be regenerated and raised up to heaven in the image of God. Almost all Universalists, most Unitarians, and large number of individual Christians outwardly affiliated with other denominations, now accept and cherish this theory. One important variation from the doctrine of the dominant sects, in connection with the present subject, is worthy of special notice. We refer to the celebrated controversy waged in England, in the first part of the eighteenth century, in regard to the intermediate state of the dead. The famous Dr. Coward and a few supporters labored, with much zeal, skill, and show of learning, to prove the natural mortality of the soul. They asserted this to be both a philosophical truth proved by scientific facts and a Christian doctrine declared in Scripture and taught by the Fathers. They argued that the soul is not an independent entity, but is merely the life of the body. Proceeding thus far on the principles of a materialistic science, they professed to complete their theory from Scripture, without doing violence to any doctrine of the acknowledged religion.6 The finished scheme was this. Man was naturally mortal; but, by the pleasure and will of God, he would have been immortally preserved alive had he not sinned. Death is the consequence of sin, and man utterly perishes in the grave. But God will restore the dead, through Christ, at the day of the general resurrection which he has foretold in the gospel.7 Some of the writers in this copious controversy maintained that previous to the advent of Christ death was eternal annihilation to all except a few who enjoyed an inspired anticipatory faith in him, but that all who died after his coming would be restored in the resurrection, the faithful to be advanced to heaven, the wicked to be the victims of unending torture.8 Clarke and Baxter both wrote with extreme ability in support of the natural immortality and separate existence of the soul. On the other hand, the learned Henry Dodwell cited, from the lore of three thousand years, a plausible body of authorities to show that the soul is in itself but a mortal breath. He also contended, by a singular perversion of figurative phrases from the New Testament and from some of the Fathers, that, 6 Coward, Search after Souls. 7 Hallet, No Resurrection, no Future State. 8 Coward, Defence of the Search after Souls. Dodwell, Epistolary Discourse. Peckard, Observations. Fleming, Survey of the Search after Souls. Law, State of Separate Spirits. Layton, Treatise of Departed Souls. in counteraction of man's natural mortality, all who undergo baptism at the hands of the ordained ministers of the Church of England the only true priesthood in apostolic succession thereby receive an immortalizing spirit brought into the world by Christ and committed to his successors. This immortalizing spirit conveyed by baptism would secure their resurrection at the last day. Those destitute of this spirit would never awake from the oblivious sleep of death, unless as he maintained will actually be the case with a large part of the dead they are arbitrarily immortalized by the pleasure of God, in order to suffer eternal misery in hell! Absurd and shocking as this fancy was, it obtained quite a number of converts, and made no slight impression at the time. One of the writers in this controversy asserted that Luther himself had been a believer in the death or sleep of the soul until the day of judgment.9 Certain it is that such a belief had at one period a considerable prevalence. Its advocates were called Psychopannychians. Calvin wrote a vehement assault on them. The opinion has sunk into general disrepute and neglect, and it would be hard to find many avowed disciples of it. The nearly universal sentiment of Christendom would now exclaim, in the quaint words of Henry More, "What! has old Adam snorted all this time Under some senselesse clod, with sleep ydead?" 10 John Asgill printed, in the year 1700, a tract called "An argument to prove that by the new covenant man may be translated into eternal life without tasting death." He argues that the law of death was a consequence of Adam's sin and was annulled by Christ's sacrifice. Since that time men have died only because of an obstinate habit of dying formed for many generations. For his part, he has the independence and resolution to withstand the universal pusillanimity and to refuse to die. He has discovered "an engine in Divinity to convey man from earth to heaven." He will "play a trump on death and show himself a match for the devil!" While treating of the various Protestant views of the future life, it would be a glaring defect to overlook the remarkable doctrine on that subject published by Emanuel Swedenborg and now held by the intelligent, growing body of believers called after his name. It would be impossible to exhibit this system adequately in its scientific bases and its complicated details without occupying more space than can be afforded here. Nor is this necessary, now that his own works have been translated and are easily accessible everywhere. His "Heaven and Hell," "Heavenly Arcana," "Doctrine of Influx," and "True Christian 9 Blackburne, View of the Controversy Concerning an Intermediate State: appendix. It is probable that the great Reformer's opinion on this point was not always the same. For he says, distinctly, "The first man who died, when he awakes at the last day, will think he has been asleep but an hour" Beste, Dr. M. Luther's Glaubenslehre, cap. iv.: Die Lehre von den Letzen Dingen. Yet. J. S. Muller seems conclusively to prove the truth of the proposition which forms the title of his book, "Dass Luther die Lehre vom Seelenschlafe nie geglaubt habe." 10 The controversy concerning the natural immortality of the soul has within a few years raged afresh. The principal combatants were Dobney, Storrs, White, Morris, and Hinton. See Athanasia, by J. H. Hinton, London, 1849. Religion," contain manifold statements and abundant illustrations of every thing important bearing on his views of the theme before us. We shall merely attempt to present a brief synopsis of the essential principles, accompanied by two or three suggestions of criticism. Swedenborg conceives man to be an organized receptacle of truth and love from God. He is an imperishable spiritual body placed for a season of probation in a perishable material body. Every moment receiving the essence of his being afresh from God, and returning it through the fruition of its uses devoutly rendered in conscious obedience and joyous worship, he is at once a subject of personal, and a medium of the Divine, happiness. The will is the power of man's life, and the understanding is its form. When the will is disinterested love and the understanding is celestial truth, then man fulfils the end of his being, and his home is heaven; he is a spirit frame into which the goodness of God perpetually flows, is humbly acknowledged, gratefully enjoyed, and piously returned. But when his will is hatred or selfishness and his understanding is falsehood or evil, then his powers are abused, his destiny inverted, and his fate hell. While in the body in this world he is placed in freedom, on probation, between these two alternatives. The Swedenborgian universe is divided into four orders of abodes. In the highest or celestial world are the heavens of the angels. In the lowest or infernal world are the hells of the demons. In the intermediate or spiritual world are the earths inhabited by men, and surrounded by the transition state through which souls, escaping from their bodies, after a while soar to heaven or sink to hell, according to their fitness and attraction. In this life man is free, because he is an energy in equilibrium between the influences of heaven and hell. The middle state surrounding man is full of spirits, some good and some bad. Every man is accompanied by swarms of both sorts of spirits, striving to make him like themselves. Now, there are two kinds of influx into man. Mediate influx is when the spirits in the middle state flow into man's thoughts and affections. The good spirits are in communication with heaven, and they carry what is good and true; the evil spirits are in communication with hell, and they carry what is evil and false. Between these opposed and reacting agencies man is in an equilibrium whose essence is freedom. Deciding for himself, if he turns with embracing welcome to the good spirits, he is thereby placed and lives in conjunction with heaven; but if he turns, on the contrary, with predominant love to the bad spirits, he is placed in conjunction with hell and draws his life thence. From heaven, therefore, through the good spirits, all the elements of saving goodness flow sweetly down and are appropriated by the freedom of the good man; while from hell, through the bad spirits, all the elements of damning evil flow foully up and are appropriated by the freedom of the bad man. The other kind of influx is called immediate. This is when the Lord himself, the pure substance of truth and good, flows into every organ and faculty of man. This influx is perpetual, but is received as truth and good only by the true and good. It is rejected, suffocated, or perverted by those who are in love with falsities and evils. So the light of the sun produces colors varying with the substances it falls on, and water takes forms corresponding to the vessels it is poured into. The whole invisible world heaven, hell, and the middle state is peopled solely from the different families of the human race occupying the numerous material globes of the universe. The good, on leaving the fleshly body, are angels, the bad, demons. There is no angel nor demon who was created such at first. Satan is not a personality, but is a figurative term standing for the whole complex of hell. In the invisible world, time and space in one sense cease to be; in another sense they remain unchanged. They virtually cease because all our present measures of them are annihilated;11 they virtually remain because exact correspondences to them are left. To spirits, time is no longer measured by the revolution of planets, but by the succession of inward states; space is measured not by way marks and the traversing of distances, but by inward similitudes and dissimilitudes. Those who are unlike are sundered by gulfs of difference. Those who are alike are together in their interiors. Thought and love, forgetfulness and hate, are not hampered by temporal and spatial boundaries. Spiritual forces and beings spurn material impediments, and are united or separate, reciprocally visible or invisible, mutually conscious or unconscious, according to their own laws of kindred or alien adaptedness. The soul the true man is its own organized and deathless body, and when it leaves its earthly house of flesh it knows the only resurrection, and the cast off frame returns to the dust forever. Swedenborg repeatedly affirms with emphasis that no one is born for hell, but that all are born for heaven, and that when any one comes into hell it is from his own free fault. He asserts that every infant, wheresoever born, whether within the Church or out of it, whether of pious parents or of impious, when he dies is received by the Lord, and educated in heaven, and becomes an angel. A central principle of which he never loses sight is that "a life of charity, which consists in acting sincerely and justly in every function, in every engagement, and in every work, from a heavenly motive, according to the Divine laws, is possible to every one, and infallibly leads to heaven." It does not matter whether the person leading such a life be a Christian or a Gentile. The only essential is that his ruling motive be divine and his life be in truth and good. The Swedenborgian doctrine concerning Christ and his mission is that he was the infinite God incarnate, not incarnate for the purpose of expiating human sin and purchasing a ransom for the lost by vicarious sufferings, but for the sake of suppressing the rampant power of the hells, weakening the influx of the infernal spirits, setting an example to men, and revealing many important truths. The advantage of the Christian over the pagan is that the former is enlightened by the celestial knowledge contained in the Bible, and animated by the affecting motives presented in the drama of the Divine incarnation. There is no probation after this life. Just as one is on leaving the earth he goes into the spiritual world. There his 11 Philo the Jew says, (vol. i. p. 277, ed. Mangey,) "God is the Father of the world: the world is the father of time, begetting it by its own motion: time, therefore, holds the place of grandchild to God." But the world is only one measure of time; another, and a more important one, is the inward succession of the spirit's states of consciousness. Between Philo and Swedenborg, it may be remarked here, there are many remarkable correspondences both of thought and language. For example, Philo says, (vol. i. p. 494,) "Man is a small kosmos, the kosmos is a grand man." ruling affection determines his destiny, and that affection can never be extirpated or changed to all eternity. After death, evil life cannot in any manner or degree be altered to good life, nor infernal love be transmuted to angelic love, inasmuch as every spirit from head to foot is in quality such as his love is, and thence such as his life is, so that to transmute this life into the opposite is altogether to destroy the spirit. It were easier, says Swedenborg, to change a night bird into a dove, an owl into a bird of paradise, than to change a subject of hell into a subject of heaven after the line of death has been crossed. But why the crossing of that line should make such an infinite difference he does not explain; nor does he prove it as a fact. The moral reason and charitable heart of Swedenborg vehemently revolted from the Calvinistic doctrines of predestination and vicarious atonement, and the group of thoughts that cluster around them. He always protests against these dogmas, refutes them with varied power and consistency; and the leading principles of his own system are creditable to human nature, and attribute no unworthiness to the character of God. A debt of eternal gratitude is due to Swedenborg that his influence, certainly destined to be powerful and lasting, is so clearly calculated to advance the interests at once of philosophic intelligence, social affection, and true piety. The superiorities of his view of the future life over those which it seeks to supplant are weighty and numerous. The following may be reckoned among the most prominent. First, without predicating of God any aggravated severity or casting the faintest shadow on his benevolence, it gives us the most appalling realization of the horribleness of sin and of its consequences. God is commonly represented in effect, at least as flaming with anger against sinners, and forcibly flinging them into the unappeasable fury of Tophet, where his infinite vengeance may forever satiate itself on them. But, Swedenborg says, God is incapable of hatred or wrath: he casts no one into hell; but the wicked go where they belong by their own election, from the inherent fitness and preference of their ruling love. The evil man desires to be in hell because there he finds his food, employment, and home; in heaven he would suffer unutterable agonies from every circumstance. The wicked go into hell by the necessary and benignant love of God, not by his indignation; and their retributions are in their own characters, not in their prison house. This does not flout and trample all magnanimity, nor shock the heart of piety; and yet, showing us men compelled to prefer wallowing in the filth and iniquities of hell, clinging to the very evils whose pangs transfix them, it gives us the direst of all the impressions of sin, and beneath the lowest deep of the popular hell opens to our shuddering conceptions a deep of loathsomeness immeasurably lower still. Secondly, the Swedenborgian doctrine of the conditions of salvation or reprobation, when compared with the popular doctrine, is marked by striking depth of insight, justice, and liberality. Every man is free. Every man has power to receive the influx of truth and good from the Lord and convert it to its blessed and saving uses, piety towards God, good will towards the neighbor, and all kinds of right works. Who does this, no matter in what land or age he lives, becomes an heir of heaven. Who perverts those Divine gifts to selfishness and unrighteous deeds becomes a subject of hell. No mere opinion, no mere profession, no mere ritual services, no mere external obedience, not all these things together, can save a man, nor their absence condemn him; but the controlling motive of his life, the central and ruling love which constitutes the substance of his being, this decides every man's doom. The view is simple, reasonable, just, necessary. And so is the doctrine of degrees accompanying it; namely, that there are in heaven different grades and qualities of exaltation and delight, and in hell of degradation and woe, for different men according to their capacities and deserts. A profoundly ethical character pervades the scheme, and the great stamp of law is over it all. Thirdly, a manifest advantage of Swedenborg's doctrine over the popular doctrine is the intimate connection it establishes between the present and the future, the visible and the invisible, God and man. Heaven and hell are not distant localities, entrance into which is to be won or avoided by moral artifices or sacramental subterfuges, but they are states of being depending on personal goodness or evil. God is not throned at the heart or on the apex of the universe, where at some remote epoch we hope to go and see him, but he is the Life feeding our lives freshly every instant. The spiritual world, with all its hosts, sustains and arches, fills and envelops us. Death is the dropping of the outer body, the lifting of an opaque veil, and we are among the spirits, unchanged, as we were before. Judgment is not a tribunal dawning on the close of the world's weary centuries, but the momentary assimilation of a celestial or an infernal love leading to states and acts, rewards and retributions, corresponding. Before this view the dead universe becomes a live transparency overwritten with the will, tremulous with the breath, and irradiate with the illumination of God. We cannot but regret that the Swedenborgian view of the future life should be burdened and darkened with the terrible error of the dogma of eternal damnation, spreading over the state of all the subjects of the hells the pall of immitigable hopelessness, denying that they can ever make the slightest ameliorating progress. We have never been able to see force enough in any of the arguments or assertions advanced in support of this tremendous horror to warrant the least hesitation in rejecting it. For ourselves, we must regard it as incredible, and think that God cannot permit it. Instruction, reformation, progress, are the final aims of punishment. Aspiration is the concomitant of consciousness, and the authentic voice of God. Surely, sooner or later, in the boonful eternities of being, every creature capable of intelligence, allied to the moral law, drawing life from the Infinite, must begin to travel the ascending path of virtue and blessedness, and never retrograde again. Neither can we admit in general the claim made by Swedenborg and by his disciples that the way in which he arrived at his system of theology elevates it to the rank of a Divine revelation. It is asserted that God opened his interior vision, so that he saw what had hitherto been concealed from the eyes of men in the flesh, namely, the inhabitants, laws, contents, and experiences of the spiritual world, and thus that his statements are not speculations or arguments, but records of unerring knowledge, his descriptions not fanciful pictures of the imagination, but literal transcripts of the truth he saw. This, in view of the great range of known experience, is not intrinsically probable, and we have seen no proof of it. Judging from what we know of psychological and religious history, it is far more likely that a man should confound his intangible reveries with solid fact than that he should be inspired by God to reveal a world of mysterious truths. Furthermore, while we are impressed with the reasonableness, probability, and consistency of most of the general principles of Swedenborg's exposition of the future life, we cannot but shrink from many of the details and forms in which he carries them out. Notwithstanding the earnest avowals of able disciples of his school that all his details are strictly necessitated by his premises, and that all his premises are laws of truth, we are compelled to regard a great many of his assertions as purely arbitrary and a great many of his descriptions as purely fanciful. But, denying that his scheme of eschatology is a scientific representation of the reality, and looking at it as a poetic structure reared by co working knowledge and imagination on the ground of reason, nature, and morality, whose foundation walls, columns, and grand outlines are truth, while many of its details, ornaments, and images are fancy, it must be acknowledged to be one of the most wonderful examples of creative power extant in the literature of the world. No one who has mastered it with appreciative mind will question this. There are, expressed and latent, in the totality of Swedenborg's accounts of hell and heaven, more variety of imagery, power of moral truth and appeal, exhibition of dramatic justice, transcendent delights of holiness and love, curdling terrors of evil and woe, strength of philosophical grasp, and sublimity of emblematic conception, than are to be found in Dante's earth renowned poem. We say this of the substance of his ideas, not of the shape and clothing in which they are represented. Swedenborg was no poet in language and form, only in conception. Take this picture. In the topmost height of the celestial world the Lord appears as a sun, and all the infinite multitudes of angels, swarming up through the innumerable heavens, wherever they are, continually turn their faces towards him in love and joy. But at the bottom of the infernal world is a vast ball of blackness, towards which all the hosts of demons, crowding down through the successive hells, forever turn their eager faces away from God. Or consider this. Every thing consists of a great number of perfect leasts like itself: every heart is an aggregation of little hearts, every lung an aggregation of little lungs, every eye an aggregation of little eyes. Following out the principle, every society in the spiritual world is a group of spirits arranged in the form of a man, every heaven is a gigantic man composed of an immense number of individuals, and all the heavens together constitute one Grand Man, a countless number of the most intelligent angels forming the head, a stupendous organization of the most affectionate making the heart, the most humble going to the feet, the most useful attracted to the hands, and so on through every part. With exceptions, then, we regard Swedenborg's doctrine of the future life as a free poetic presentment, not as a severe scientific statement, of views true in moral principle, not of facts real in literal detail. His imagination and sentiment are mathematical and ethical instead of asthetic and passionate. Milk seems to run in his veins instead of blood, but he is of truthfulness and charity all compact. We think it most probable that the secret of his supposed inspiration was the abnormal frequent or chronic turning of his mind into what is called the ecstatic or clairvoyant state. This condition being spontaneously induced, while he yet, in some unexplained manner, retained conscious possession and control of his usual faculties, he treated his subjective conceptions as objective realities, believed his interior contemplations were accurate visions of facts, and took the strange procession of systematic reveries through his teeming brain for a scenic revelation of the exhaustive mysteries of heaven and hell. "Each wondrous guess beheld the truth it sought, And inspiration flash'd from what was thought." This hypothesis, taken in conjunction with the comprehensiveness of his mind, the vastness of his learning, the integral correctness of his conscience, and his disciplined habits of thought, will go far towards explaining the unparalleled phenomenon of his theological works; and, though it leaves many things unaccounted for, it seems to us more credible than any other which has yet been suggested. The last of the three prominent phenomena which as before said followed the Protestant Reformation was rationalism, an attempt to try all religious questions at the tribunal of reason and by the tests of conscience. The great movement led by Luther was but one element in a numerous train of influences and events all yielding their different contributions to that resolute rationalistic tendency which afterwards broke out so powerfully in England, France, and Germany, and, spreading thence into every country in Christendom, has been, in secret and in public, with slow, sure steps, irresistibly advancing ever since. In the history of scholasticism there were three distinct epochs. The first period was characterized by the servile submission and conformity of philosophy to the theology dictated by the Church. The second period was marked by the formal alliance and attempted reconciliation of philosophy and theology. The third period saw an ever increasing jealousy and separation between the philosophers and the theologians.12 Many an adventurous thinker pushed his speculations beyond the limits of the established theology, and deliberately dissented from the orthodox standards in his conclusions. Perhaps Abelard, who openly strove to put all the Church dogmas in forms acceptable to philosophy, and who did not hesitate to reject in many instances what seemed to him unreasonable, deserves to be called the father of rationalism. The works of Des Cartes, Leibnitz, Wolf, Kant's "Religion within the Bounds of Pure Reason," together with the influence and the writings of many other eminent philosophers, gradually gave momentum to the impulse and popularity to the habits of free thought and criticism even in the realm of theology. The dogmatic scheme of the dominant Church was firmly seized, many errors shaken out to the light and exposed, and many long received opinions questioned and flung into doubt.13 The authenticity of many of the popular doctrines regarding the future life could not fail to be denied as soon as it was attempted as was extensively done about the middle of the eighteenth century to demonstrate them by mathematical methods, with all the array of axioms, theorems, lemmas, doubts, and solutions. Flugge has historically illustrated the employment of this method at considerable length.14 12 Cousin, Hist. Mod. Phil., lect. ix. 13 Staudlin, Geschichte des Rationalismus. Saintes, Histoire Critique du Rationalisme en Allemagne, Eng. trans. by Dr. Beard. 14 Geschichte des Glaubens an Unsterblichkeit, u. s. f., th. iii. abth. ii. ss. 281-289. The essence of rationalism is the affirmation that neither the Fathers, nor the Church, nor the Scriptures, nor all of them together, can rightfully establish any proposition opposed to the logic of sound philosophy, the principles of reason, and the evident truth of nature. Around this thesis the battle has been fought and the victory won; and it will stand with spreading favor as long as there are unenslaved and cultivated minds in the world. This position is, in logical necessity, and as a general thing in fact, that of the large though loosely cohering body of believers known as "Liberal Christians;" and it is tacitly held by still larger and ever growing numbers nominally connected with sects that officially eschew it with horror. The result of the studies and discussions associated with this principle, so far as it relates to the subject before us, has been the rejection of the following popular doctrines: the plenary inspiration of the Scriptures as an ultimate authority in matters of belief; unconditional predestination; the satisfaction theory of the vicarious atonement; the visible second coming of Christ, in person, to burn up the world and to hold a general judgment; the intermediate state of souls; the resurrection of the body; a local hell of material fire in the bowels of the earth; the eternal damnation of the wicked. These old dogmas,15 scarcely changed, still remain in the stereotyped creeds of all the prominent denominations; but they slumber there to an astonishing extent unrealized, unnoticed, unthought of, by the great multitude of common believers, while every consciously rational investigator vehemently repudiates them. To every candid mind that has really studied their nature and proofs their absurdity is now transparent on all the grounds alike of history, metaphysics, morals, and science. The changes of the popular Christian belief in regard to three salient points have been especially striking. First, respecting the immediate fate of the dead, an intermediate state. The predominant Jewish doctrine was that all souls went indiscriminately into a sombre under world, where they awaited a resurrection. The earliest Christian view prevalent was the same, with the exception that it divided that place of departed spirits into two parts, a painful for the bad, a pleasant for the good. The next opinion that prevailed the Roman Catholic was the same as the foregoing, with two exceptions: it established a purgatory in addition to the previous paradise and hell, and it opened heaven itself for the immediate entrance of a few spotless souls. Pope John XXII., as Gieseler shows, was accused of heresy by the theological doctors of Paris because he declared that no soul could enter heaven and enjoy the beatific vision until after the resurrection. Pope Benedict XII. drew up a list of one hundred and seventeen heretical opinions held by the Armenian Christians. One of these notions was that the souls of all deceased adults wander in the air until the Day of Judgment, neither hell, paradise, nor heaven being open to them until after that day. Thomas Aquinas says, "Each soul at death immediately flies to its appointed place, whether in hell or in heaven, being without the body until the resurrection, with it afterwards."16 Then came the 15 They are defended in all their literal grossness in the two following works, both recent publications. The World to Come; by the Rev. James Cochrane. Der Tod, das Todtenreich, und der Zustand der abgeschiedenen Seelen; von P. A. Maywahlen. 16 Summa iii. in Suppl. 69. 2. dogma of the orthodox Protestants, slightly varying in the different sects, but generally agreeing that at death all redeemed souls pass instantly to heaven and all unredeemed souls to hell.17 The principal variation from this among believers within the Protestant fellowship has been the notion that the souls of all men die or sleep with the body until the Day of Judgment, a notion which peeps out here and there in superstitious spots along the pages of ecclesiastical history, and which has found now and then an advocate during the last century and a half. The Council of Elvin, in Spain, forbade the lighting of tapers in churchyards, lest it should disturb the souls of the deceased buried there. At this day, in prayers and addresses at funerals, no phrases are more common than those alluding to death as a sleep, and implying that the departed one is to slumber peacefully in his grave until the resurrection. And yet, at the same time, by the same persons contrary ideas are frequently expressed. The truth is, the subject, owing to the contradictions between their creed and their reason, is left by most persons in hopeless confusion and uncertainty. They have no determinately reconciled and conscious views of their own. Rationalism sweeps away all the foregoing incongruous medley at once, denying that we know any thing about the precise localities of heaven and hell, or the destined order of events in the hidden future of separate souls; affirming that all we should dare to say is simply that the souls whether of good or of bad men, on leaving the body, go at once into a spiritual state of being, where they will live immortally, as God decrees, never returning to be reinvested with the vanished charnel houses of clay they once inhabited. Secondly, the thought that Christ after his death descended into the under world to ransom mankind, or a part of mankind, from the doom there, is in the foundation of the apostolic theology. It was a central element in the belief of the Fathers, and of the Church for fourteen hundred years. None of the prominent Protestant reformers thought of denying it. Calvin lays great stress on it.18 Apinus and others, at Hamburg, maintained that Christ's descent was a part of his humiliation, and that in it he suffered unutterable pains for us. On the other hand, Melancthon and the Wittenbergers held that the descent was a part of Christ's triumph, since by it he won a glorious victory over the powers of hell.19 But gradually the importance and the redeeming effects attached to Christ's descent into hell were transferred to his death on the cross. Slowly the primitive dogma dwindled away, and finally sunk out of sight, through an ever encroaching disbelief in the physical conditions on which it rested and in the pictorial environments by which it was recommended. And now it is scarcely ever heard of, save when brought out from old scholastic tomes by some theological delver. Baumgarten Crusius has learnedly illustrated the important place long held by this notion, and well shown its gradual retreat into the unnoticed background.20 17 Confession of Faith of the Church of Scotland, ch. xxxii. Calvin, Institutes, lib. iii. cap. xxv.; and his Psychopannychia. Quenstedt also affirms it. Likewise the Confession of Faith of the Westminster Divines, art. xxxii., says, "Souls neither die nor sleep, but go immediately to heaven or hell." 18 Institutes, lib. ii. cap. 16, sects. 16, 19. 19 Ledderhose, Life of Melancthon, Eng. trans. by Krotel, ch. xxx. 20 Compendium der Christliche Dogmengeschichte, thl. ii. sects. 100-109. The other particular doctrine which we said had undergone remarkable change is in regard to the number of the saved. A blessed improvement has come over the popular Christian feeling and teaching in respect to this momentous subject. The Jews excluded from salvation all but their own strict ritualists. The apostles, it is true, excluded none but the stubbornly wicked. But the majority of the Fathers virtually allowed the possibility of salvation to few indeed. Chrysostom doubted if out of the hundred thousand souls constituting the Christian population of Antioch in his day one hundred would be saved! 21 And when we read, with shuddering soul, the calculations of Cornelius a Lapide, or the celebrated sermon of Massillon on the "Small Number of the Saved," we are compelled to confess that they fairly represent the almost universal sentiment and conviction of Christendom for more than seventeen hundred years. A quarto volume published in London in 1680, by Du Moulin, called "Moral Reflections upon the Number of the Elect," affirmed that not one in a million, from Adam down to our times, shall be saved. A flaming execration blasted the whole heathen world, 22 and a metaphysical quibble doomed ninety nine of every hundred in Christian lands. Collect the whole relevant theological literature of the Christian ages, from the birth of Tertullian to the death of Jonathan Edwards, strike the average pitch of its doctrinal temper, and you will get this result: that in the field of human souls Satan is the harvester, God the gleaner; hell receives the whole vintage in its wine press of damnation, heaven obtains only a few straggling clusters plucked for salvation. The crowded wains roll staggering into the iron doorways of Satan's fire and brimstone barns; the redeemed vestiges of the world crop of men are easily borne to heaven in the arms of a few weeping angels. How different is the prevailing tone of preaching and belief now! What a cheerful ascent of views from the mournful passage of the dead over the river of oblivion fancied by the Greeks, or the excruciating passage of the river of fire painted by the Catholics, to the happy passage of the river of balm, healing every weary bruise and sorrow, promised by the Universalists! It is true, the old harsh exclusiveness is still organically imbedded in the established creeds, all of which deny the possibility of salvation beyond the little circle who vitally appropriate the vicarious atonement of Christ; but then this is, for the most part, a dead letter in the creeds. In the hearts and in the candid confessions of all but one in a thousand it is discredited and sincerely repelled as an abomination to human nature, a reflection against God, an outrage upon the substance of ethics. Remorseless bigots may gloat and exult over the thought that those who reject their dogmas shall be thrust into the roaring fire gorges of hell; but a better spirit is the spirit of the age we live in; and, doubtless, a vast majority of the men we daily meet really believe that all who try to the best of their ability, according to their light and circumstances, to do what is right, in the love of God and man, shall be saved. In that moving scene of the great dramatist where the burial of the innocent and hapless Ophelia is represented, and Lacrtes vainly seeks to win from the Church official 21 In Acta Apostolorum, homil. xxiv. 22 Gotze, Ueber die Neue Meinung von der Seligkeit der angeblich guten und redlichen Seelen unter Juden, Heiden, und Turken durch Christum, ohne dass sie an ihn glauben. the full funeral rites of religion over her grave, the priest may stand for the false and cruel ritual spirit, the brother for the just and native sentiment of the human heart. Says the priest, "We should profane the service of the dead To sing a requiem and such rest to her As to peace parted souls." And Laertes replies, "Lay her in the earth; And from her fair and unpolluted flesh Shall violets spring. I tell thee, churlish priest, A ministering angel shall my sister be When thou liest howling." Indeed, who that has a heart in his bosom would not be ashamed not to sympathize with the gentle hearted Burns when he expresses even to the devil himself the quaint and kindly wish, "Oh wad ye tak' a thought and mend!" The creeds and the priests, in congenial alliance with many evil things, may strive to counteract this progressive self emancipation from cruel falsehoods and superstitions, but in vain. The terms of salvation are seen lying in the righteous will of a gracious God, not in the heartless caprice of a priesthood nor in the iron gripe of a set of dogmas. The old priestly monopoly over the way to heaven has been taken off in the knowledge of the enlightened present, and, for all who have unfettered feet to walk with, the passage to God is now across a free bridge. The ancient exactors may still sit in their toll house creeds and confessionals; but their authority is gone, and the virtuous traveller, stepping from the ground of time upon the planks that lead over into eternity, smiles as he passes scot free by their former taxing terrors. The reign of sacramentalists and dogmatists rapidly declines. Reason, common sentiment, the liberal air, the best and strongest tendencies of the people, are against them to day, and will be more against them in every coming day. Every successive explosion of the Second Adventist fanaticism will leave less of that element behind. Its rage in America, under the auspices of Miller, in the nineteenth century, was tame and feeble when compared with the terror awakened in Europe in the fifteenth century by Stofler's prediction of an approaching comet.23 Every new discovery of the harmonies of science, and of the perfections of nature, and of the developments of the linear logic of God consistently unfolding in implicated sequences of peaceful order unperturbed by shocks of failure and epochs of remedy, will increase and popularize an intelligent faith in the original ordination and the intended permanence of the present constitution of things. Finally men will cease to be looking up to see the blue dome cleave open for the descent of angelic squadrons headed by the majestic Son of God, the angry breath of his mouth consuming the world, cease to 23 Bayle, Historical Dictionary, art. Stofler, note B. expect salvation by any other method than that of earnest and devout truthfulness, love, good works, and pious submissiveness to God, cease to fancy that their souls, after waiting through the long sleep or separation of death, will return and take on their old bodies again. Recognizing the Divine plan for training souls in this lower and transient state for a higher and immortal state, they will endeavor, in natural piety and mutual love, while they live, to exhaust the genuine uses of the world that now is, and thus prepare themselves to enter with happiest auspices, when they die, the world prepared for them beyond these mortal shores. These cheerful prophecies must be verified in the natural course of things. The rapid spread of the doctrine of a future life taught by the "Spirit rappers" is a remarkable revelation of the great extent to which the minds of the common people have at last become free from the long domination of the ecclesiastical dogmas on that subject. The leading representatives of the "Spiritualists" affirm, with much unanimity, the most comforting conclusions as to the condition of the departed. They exclude all wrath and favoritism from the disposition of the Deity. They have little in fact, they often have nothing whatever to say of hell. They emphatically repudiate the ordinarily taught terms of salvation, and deny the doctrine of hopeless reprobation. All death is beautiful and progressive. "Every form and thing is constantly growing lovelier and every sphere purer." The abode of each soul in the future state is determined, not by decrees or dogmas or forms of any kind, but by qualities of character, degrees of love, purity, and wisdom. There are seven ascending spheres, each more abounding than the one below it in beauties, glories, and happiness. "The first sphere is the natural; the second, the spiritual; the third, the celestial; the fourth, the supernatural; the fifth, the superspiritual; the sixth, the supercelestial; the seventh, the Infinite Vortex of Love and Wisdom."24 Whatever be thought of the pretensions of this doctrine to be a Divine revelation, whatever be thought of its various psychological, cosmological, and theological characteristics, its ethics are those of natural reason. It is wholly irreconcilable with the popular ecclesiastical system of doctrines. Its epidemic diffusion until now burdened as it is with such nauseating accompaniments of crudity and absurdity, it reckons its adherents by millions is a tremendous evidence of the looseness with which the old, cruel dogmas sit on the minds of the masses of the people, and of their eager readiness to welcome more humane views. In science the erroneous doctrines of the Middle Age are now generally discarded. The mention of them but provokes a smile or awakens surprise. Yet, as compared with the historic annals of our race, it is but recently that the true order of the solar system has been unveiled, the weight of the air discovered, the circulation of the blood made known, the phenomena of insanity intelligently studied, the results of physiological chemistry brought to light, the symmetric domain and sway of calculable law pushed far out in every direction of nature and experience. It used to be supposed that digestion was effected by means of a mechanical power equal to many tons. Borelli asserted that the muscular force of the heart was one hundred and eighty thousand pounds. These absurd estimates only disappeared when the 24 Andrew Jackson Davis, Nature's Divine Revelations, sects. 192 203. properties of the gastric juice were discerned. The method in which we distinguish the forms and distances of objects was not understood until Berkeley published his "New Theory of Vision." Few persons are aware of the opposition of bigotry, stolidity, and authority against which the brilliant advances of scientific discovery and mechanical invention and social improvement have been forced to contend, and in despite of which they have slowly won their way. Excommunications, dungeons, fires, sneers, polite persecution, bitter neglect, tell the story, from the time the Athenians banned Anaxagoras for calling the sun a mass of fire, to the day an English mob burned the warehouses of Arkwright because he had invented the spinning jenny. But, despite all the hostile energies of establishment, prejudice, and scorn, the earnest votaries of philosophical truth have studied and toiled with ever accumulating victories, until now a hundred sciences are ripe with emancipating fruits and perfect freedom to be taught. Railroads gird the lands with ribs of trade, telegraphs thread the airs with electric tidings of events, and steamships crease the seas with channels of foam and fire. There is no longer danger of any one being put to death, or even being excluded from the "best society," for saying that the earth moves. An eclipse cannot be regarded as the frown of God when it is regularly foretold with certainty. The measurement of the atmosphere exterminated the wiseacre proverb, "Nature abhors a vacuum," by the burlesque addition, "but only for the first thirty two feet." The madman cannot be looked on as divinely inspired, his words to be caught as oracles, or as possessed by a devil, to be chained and scourged, since Pinel's great work has brought insanity within the range of organic disease. When Franklin's kite drew electricity from the cloud to his knuckle, the superstitious theory of thunder died a natural death. The vast progress effected in all departments of physical science during the last four centuries has not been made in any kindred degree in the prevailing theology. Most of the harsh, unreasonable tenets of the elaborately morbid and distorted mediaval theologyare still retained in the creeds of the great majority of Christendom. The causes of this difference are plain. The establishment of newly discovered truths in material science being less intimately connected with the prerogatives of the ruling classes, less clearly hostile to the permanence of their power, they have not offered so pertinacious an opposition to progress in this province: they have yielded a much larger freedom to physicists than to moralists, to discoverers of mathematical, chemical, and mechanical law than to reformers of political and religious thought. Livy tells us that, in the five hundred and seventy third year of Rome, some concealed books of Numa were found, which, on examination by the priests, being thought injurious to the established religion, were ordered to be burned.25 The charge was not that they were ungenuine, nor that their contents were false; but they were dangerous. In the second century, an imperial decree forbade the reading of the Sibylline Oracles, because they contained prophecies of Christ and doctrines of Christianity. By an act of the English Parliament, in the middle of the seventeenth century, every copy of the Racovian Catechism (an exposition of the Socinian doctrine) that could be obtained was burned in the streets. 25 Lib. xl. cap. xxix. The Index Expurgatorius for Catholic countries is still freshly filled every year. And in Protestant countries a more subtle and a more effectual influence prevents, on the part of the majority, the candid perusal of all theological discussions which are not pitched in the orthodox key. Certain dogmas are the absorbed thought of the sects which defend them: no fresh and independent thinking is to be expected on those subjects, no matter how purely fictitious these secretions of the brain of the denomination or of some ancient leader may be, no matter how glaringly out of keeping with the intelligence and liberty which reign in other realms of faith and feeling. There is nowhere else in the world a tyranny so pervasive and despotic as that which rules in the department of theological opinion. The prevalent slothful and slavish surrender of the grand privileges and duties of individual thought, independent personal conviction and action in religious matters, is at once astonishing, pernicious, and disgraceful. The effect of entrenched tradition, priestly directors, a bigoted, overawing, and persecuting sectarianism, is nowhere else a hundredth part so powerful or so extensive. In addition to the bitter determination by interested persons to suppress reforming investigations of the doctrines which hold their private prejudices in supremacy, and to the tremendous social prestige of old establishment, another cause has been active to keep theology stationary while science has been making such rapid conquests. Science deals with tangible quantities, theology with abstract qualities. The cultivation of the former yields visible practical results of material comfort; the cultivation of the latter yields only inward spiritual results of mental welfare. Accordingly, science has a thousand resolute votaries where theology has one unshackled disciple. At this moment, a countless multitude, furnished with complex apparatus, are ransacking every nook of nature, and plucking trophies, and the world with honoring attention reads their reports. But how few with competent preparation and equipment, with fearless consecration to truth, unhampered, with fresh free vigor, are scrutinizing the problems of theology, enthusiastically bent upon refuting errors and proving verities! And what reception do the conclusions of those few meet at the hands of the public? Surely not prompt recognition, frank criticism, and grateful acknowledgment or courteous refutation. No; but studied exclusion from notice, or sophistical evasions and insulting vituperation. What a striking and painful contrast is afforded by the generous encouragement given to the students of science by the annual bestowment of rewards by the scientific societies such as the Cuvier Prize, the Royal Medal, the Rumford Medal and the jealous contempt and assaults visited by the sectarian authorities upon those earnest students of theology who venture to propose any innovating improvement! Suppose there were annually awarded an Aquinas Prize, a Fenelon Medal, a Calvin Medal, a Luther Medal, a Channing Medal, not to the one who should present the most ingenious defence of any peculiar tenet of one of those masters, but to him who should offer the most valuable fresh contribution to theological truth! What should we think if the French Institute offered a gold medal every year to the astronomer who presented the ablest essay in support of the Ptolemaic system, or if the Royal Society voted a diploma for the best method of casting nativities? Such is the course pursued in regard to dogmatic theology. The consequence has been that while elsewhere the ultimate standard by which to try a doctrine is, What do the most competent judges say? What does unprejudiced reason dictate? What does the great harmony of truth require? in theology it is, What do the committed priests say? How does it comport with the old traditions? We read in the Hak ul Yakeen that the envoy of Herk, Emperor of Rum, once said to the prophet, "You summon people to a Paradise whose extent includes heaven and earth: where, then, is hell?" Mohammed replied, "When day comes, where is night?" That is to say, according to the traditionary glosses, as day and night are opposite, so Paradise is at the zenith and hell at the nadir. Yes; but if Paradise be above the heavens, and hell below the seventh earth, then how can Sirat be extended over hell for people to pass to Paradise? "We reply," say the authors of the Hak ul Yakeen, "that speculation on this subject is not necessary, nor to be regarded. Implicit faith in what the prophets have revealed must be had; and explanatory surmises, which are the occasion of Satanic doubts, must not be indulged."26 Certainly this exclusion of reason cannot always be suffered. It is fast giving way already. And it is inevitable that, when reason secures its right and bears its rightful fruits in moral subjects as it now does in physical subjects, the mediaval theology must be rejected as mediaval science has been. It is the common doctrine of the Church that Christ now sits in heaven in a human body of flesh and blood. Calvin separated the Divine nature of Christ from this human body; but Luther made the two natures inseparable and attributed ubiquity to the body in which they reside, thus asserting the omnipresence of a material human body, a bulk of a hundred and fifty pounds' weight more or less. He furiously assailed Zwingle's objection to this monstrous nonsense, as "a devil's mask and grandchild of that old witch, mistress Reason." 27 The Roman Church teaches, and her adherents devoutly believe, that the house of the Virgin Mary was conveyed on the wings of angels from Nazareth to the eastern slope of the Apennines above the Adriatic Gulf.28 The English Church, consistently interpreted, teaches that there is no salvation without baptism by priests in the line of apostolic succession. These are but ordinary specimens of teachings still humbly received by the mass of Christians. The common distrust with which the natural operations of reason are regarded in the Church, the extreme reluctance to accept the conclusions of mere reason, seem to us discreditable to the theological leaders who represent the current creeds of the approved sects. Many an influential theologian could learn invaluable lessons from the great guides in the realm of science. The folly which acute learned wise men will be guilty of the moment they turn to theological subjects, where they do not allow reason to act, is both ludicrous and melancholy. The victim of lycanthropy used to be burned alive; he is now placed under the careful treatment of skilful and humane physicians. But the heretic or infidel is still thought to be inspired by the devil, a fit subject for discipline here and hell hereafter. The light shed abroad by the rising spirit of rational investigation must gradually dispel the delusions which lurk in the vales of theology, as it already has dispelled those that formerly haunted the hills of science. The spectres which have so long terrified a childish world will successively vanish 26 Merrick, Hyat ul Kuloob, note 74. 27 Hagenbach, Dogmengeschichte, sect. 265, note 2. 28 Christian Remembrancer, April, 1855. A full and able history of the "Holy House of Loretto." from the path of man as advancing reason, in the name of the God of truth, utters its imperial "Avaunt!" Henry More wrote a book on the "Immortality of the Soul," printed in London in 1659, just two hundred years ago. It is full of beauty, acumen, and power. He was one of the first men of the time. Yet he seriously elaborates an argument like this: "The scum and spots that lie on the sun are as great an Argument that there is no Divinity in him as the dung of Owls and Sparrows that is found on the faces and shoulders of Idols in Temples are clear evidences that they are no true Deities."29 He also in good faith tells a story like this: "That a Woman with child, seeing a Butcher divide a Swine's head with a Cleaver, brought forth her Child with its face cloven in the upper jaw, the palate, and upper lip to the very nose."30 The progress marked by the contrast of the scientific spirit of the present time with the ravenous credulity of even two centuries back must continue and spread into every province. Some may vilify it; but in vain. Some may sophisticate against it; but in vain. Some may invoke authority and social persecution to stop it; but in vain. Some may appeal to the prejudices and fears of the timid; but in vain. Some may close their own eyes, and hold their hands before their neighbors' eyes, and attempt to shut out the light; but in vain. It will go on. It is the interest of the world that it should go on. It is the manly and the religious course to help this progress with prudence and reverence. Truth is the will of God, the way he has made things to be and to act, the way he wishes free beings to exist and to act. He has ordained the gradual discovery of truth. And despite the struggles of selfish tyranny, and the complacence of luxurious ease, and the terror of ignorant cowardice, truth will be more and more brought to universal acceptance. Some men have fancied their bodies composed of butter or of glass; but when compelled to move out into the sunlight or the crowd they did not melt nor break.31 Esquirol had a patient who did not dare to bend her thumb, lest the world should come to an end. When forced to bend it, she was surprised that the crack of doom did not follow. The mechanico theatrical character of the popular theology is enough to reveal its origin and its fundamental falsity. The difference between its lurid and phantasmal details and the calm eternal verities in the divinely constituted order of nature is as great as the difference between those stars which one sees in consequence of a blow on the forehead and those he sees by turning his gaze to the nightly sky. To every competent thinker, the bare appreciation of such a passage as that which closes Chateaubriand's chapter on the Last Judgment, with the huge bathos of its incongruous mixture of sublime and absurd, is its sufficient refutation: "The globe trembles on its axis; the moon is covered with a bloody veil; the threatening stars hang half detached from the vault of heaven, and the agony of the world commences. Now resounds the trump of the angel. The sepulchres burst: the human race issues all at once, and fills the Valley of Jehoshaphat! The Son of Man appears in the clouds; the powers of hell ascend from the infernal depths; the goats are separated from the sheep; the wicked are plunged into the gulf; the just ascend to heaven; God returns to his repose, 29 Preface, p. 10. 30 Ibid. p. 392. 31 Bucknill and Tuke, Psychological Medicine, ch. ix. and the reign of eternity begins."32 Nothing saves this whole scheme of doctrine from instant rejection except neglect of thought, or incompetence of thought, on the part of those who contemplate it. The peculiar dogmas of the exclusive sects are the products of mental and social disease, psychological growths in pathological moulds. The naked shapes of beautiful women floating around St. Anthony in full display of their maddening charms are interpreted by the Romanist Church as a visible work of the devil. An intelligent physician accounts for them by the laws of physiology, the morbid action of morbid nerves. There is no doubt whatever as to which of these explanations is correct. The absolute prevalence of that explanation is merely a question of time. Meanwhile, it is the part of every wise and devout man, without bigotry, without hatred for any, with strict fidelity to his own convictions, with entire tolerance and kindness for all who differ from him, sacredly to seek after verity himself and earnestly to endeavor to impart it to others. To such men forms of opinion, instead of being prisons, fetters, and barriers, will be but as tents of a night while they march through life, the burning and cloudy column of inquiry their guide, the eternal temple of truth their goal. The actual relation, the becoming attitude, the appropriate feeling, of man towards the future state, the concealed segment of his destiny, are impressively shown in the dying scene of one of the wisest and most gifted of men, one of the fittest representatives of the modern mind. In a good old age, on a pleasant spring day, with a vast expanse of experience behind him, with an immensity of hope before him, he lay calmly expiring. "More light!" he cried, with departing breath; and Death, solemn warder of eternity, led him, blinded, before the immemorial veil of awe and secrets. It uprolled as the flesh bandage fell from his spirit, and he walked at large, triumphant or appalled, amidst the unimagined revelations of God. And now, recalling the varied studies we have passed through, and seeking for the conclusion or root of the matter, what shall we say? This much we will say. First, the fearless Christian, fully acquainted with the results of a criticism unsparing as the requisitions of truth and candor, can scarcely, with intelligent honesty, do more than place his hand on the beating of his heart, and fix his eye on the riven tomb of Jesus, and exclaim, "Feeling here the inspired promise of immortality, and seeing there the sign of God's authentic seal, I gratefully believe that Christ has risen, and that my soul is deathless!" Secondly, the trusting philosopher, fairly weighing the history of the world's belief in a future life, and the evidences on which it rests, can scarcely, with justifying warrant, do less than lay his hand on his body, and turn his gaze aloft, and exclaim, "Though death shatters this shell, the soul may survive, and I confidently hope to live forever." Meanwhile, the believer and the speculator, combining to form a Christian philosophy wherein doubt and faith, thought and freedom, reason and sentiment, nature and revelation, all embrace, even as the truth of things and the experience of life demand, may both adopt for their own the expression wrought for himself by a pure and fervent poet in these freighted lines of pathetic beauty: 32 Genius of Christianity, part ii. book vi. ch. vii. "I gather up the scattered rays Of wisdom in the early days, Faint gleams and broken, like the light Of meteors in a Northern night, Betraying to the darkling earth The unseen sun which gave them birth; I listen to the sibyl's chant, The voice of priest and hierophant; I know what Indian Kreeshna saith, And what of life and what of death The demon taught to Socrates, And what, beneath his garden trees Slow pacing, with a dream like tread, The solemn thoughted Plato said; Nor Lack I tokens, great or small, Of God's clear light in each and all, While holding with more dear regard Than scroll of heathen seer and bard The starry pages, promise lit, With Christ's evangel overwrit, Thy miracle of life and death, O Holy One of Nazareth!" 33 33 Whittier, Questions of Life. PART FIFTH. HISTORICAL AND CRITICAL DISSERTATIONS CONCERNING A FUTURE LIFE. CHAPTER I. DOCTRINE OF A FUTURE LIFE IN THE ANCIENT MYSTERIES. THE power of the old religions was for centuries concentrated in the Mysteries. These were recondite institutions, sometimes wielded by the state, sometimes by a priesthood, sometimes by a ramifying private society. None could be admitted into them save with the permission of the hierarchs, by rites of initiation, and under solemn seals of secrecy. These mysterious institutions, charged with strange attractions, shrouded in awful wonder, were numerous, and, agreeing in some of their fundamental features, were spread nearly all over the world. The writings of the ancients abound with references to them, mostly eulogistic. The mighty part played by these veiled bodies in the life of the periods when they flourished, the pregnant hints and alluring obscurities amid which they stand in relation to the learning of modern times, have repeatedly obtained wide attention, elicited opposite opinions, provoked fierce debates, and led different inquirers to various conclusions as to their true origin, character, scope, meaning, and results. One of the principal points in discussion by scholars concerning the Mysteries has been whether they inculcated an esoteric doctrine of philosophy, opposed to the popular religion. Some writers have maintained that in their symbols and rites was contained a pure system of monotheistic ethics and religion. Our own opinion is that in some of these institutions, at one period, higher theological views and scientific speculations were unfolded, but in others never. Still, it is extremely difficult to prove any thing on this part of the general subject: there is much that is plausible to be said on both sides of the question. Another query to be noticed in passing is in regard to the degree of exclusiveness and concealment really attached to the form of initiation. Lobeck, in his celebrated work, "Aglaophamus," borne away by a theory, assumes the extravagant position that the Eleusinian Mysteries were almost freely open to all.1 His error seems to lie in not distinguishing sufficiently between the Lesser and the Greater Mysteries, and in not separating the noisy shows of the public festal days from the initiatory and explanatory rites of personal admission within the mystic pale. The notorious 1 Lib. i. sects. 4, 5. facts that strict inquiry was made into the character and fitness of the applicant before his admission, and that many were openly rejected, that instant death was inflicted on all who intruded unprepared within the sacred circuits, and that death was the penalty of divulging what happened during the celebrations, all are inconsistent with the notion of Lobeck, and prove that the Mysteries were hedged about with dread. Aschylus narrowly escaped being torn in pieces upon the stage by the people on suspicion that in his play he had given a hint of something in the Mysteries. He delivered himself by appealing to the Areopagus, and proving that he had never been initiated. Andocides also, a Greek orator who lived about four hundred years before Christ, was somewhat similarly accused, and only escaped by a strenuous defence of himself in an oration, still extant, entitled "Concerning the Mysteries." A third preliminary matter is as to the moral character of the services performed by these companies. Some held that their characteristics were divinely pure, intellectual, exalting; others that in abandoned pleasures they were fouler than the Stygian pit. The Church Fathers, Clement, Irenaus, Tertullian, and the rest, influenced by a mixture of prejudice, hatred, and horror, against every thing connected with paganism, declared, in round terms, that the Mysteries were unmitigated sinks of iniquity and shame, lust, murder, and all promiscuous deviltry. Without pausing to except or qualify, or to be thoroughly informed and just, they included the ancient stern generations and their own degraded contemporaries, the vile rites of the Corinthian Aphrodite and the solemn service of Demeter, the furious revels of the Bacchanalians and the harmonious mental worship of Apollo, all in one indiscriminate charge of insane beastliness and idolatry. Their view of the Mysteries has been most circulated among the moderns by Leland's learned but bigoted work on the "Use and Necessity of a Divine Revelation." He would have us regard each one as a vortex of atheistic sensuality and crime. There should be discrimination. The facts are undoubtedly these, as we might abundantly demonstrate were it in the province of the present essay. The original Mysteries, the authoritative institutions co ordinated with the state or administered by the poets and philosophers, were pure: their purpose was to purify the lives and characters of their disciples. Their means were a complicated apparatus of sensible and symbolic revelations and instructions admirably calculated to impress the most salutary moral and religious lessons. In the first place, is it credible that the state would fling its auspices over societies whose function was to organize lawlessness and debauchery, to make a business of vice and filth? Among the laws of Solon is a regulation decreeing that the Senate shall convene in the Eleusinian temple, the day after the festival, to inquire whether every thing had been done with reverence and propriety. Secondly, if such was the character of these secrets, why was inquisition always made into the moral habits of the candidate, that he might be refused admittance if they were bad? This inquiry was severe, and the decision unrelenting. Alcibiades was rejected, as we learn from Plutarch's life of him, on account of his dissoluteness and insubordination in the city. Nero dared not attend the Eleusinian Mysteries, "because to the murder of his mother he had joined the slaughter of his paternal aunt."2 All accepted candidates were scrupulously purified in thought and body, and clad in white robes, for nine days previous to their reception. Thirdly, it is intrinsically absurd to suppose that an institution of gross immorality and cruelty could have flourished in the most polite and refined Greek nation, as the Eleusinian Mysteries did for over eighteen hundred years, ranking among its members a vast majority of both sexes, of all classes, of all ages, and constantly celebrating its rites before immense audiences of them all. Finally, a host of men like Plato, Sophocles, Cimon, Lycurgus, Cicero, were members of these bodies, partook in their transactions, and have left on record eulogies of them and of their influence. The concurrent testimony of antiquity is that in the Great Mysteries the desires were chastened, the heart purified, the mind calmed, the soul inspired, all the virtues of morality and hopes of religion taught and enforced with sublime solemnities. There is no just ground for suspecting this to be false. But there remains something more and different to be said also. While the authorized Mysteries were what we have asserted, there did afterwards arise spurious Mysteries, in names, forms, and pretensions partially resembling the genuine ones, under the control of the most unprincipled persons, and in which unquestionably the excesses of unbelief, drunkenness, and prostitution held riot. These depraved societies were foreign grafts from the sensual pantheism ever nourished in the voluptuous climes of the remote East. They established themselves late in Greece, but were developed at Rome in such unbridled enormities as compelled the Senate to suppress them. Livy gives a detailed and vivid account of the whole affair in his history.3 But the gladiators, scoundrels, rakes, bawds, who swarmed in these stews of rotting Rome, are hardly to be confounded with the noble men and matrons of the earlier time who openly joined in the pure Mysteries with the approving example of the holiest bards, the gravest statesmen, and the profoundest sages, men like Pindar, Pericles, and Pythagoras. Ample facilities are afforded in the numerous works to which we shall refer for unmasking the different organizations that travelled over the earth in the guise of the Mysteries, and of seeing what deceptive arts were practised in some, what superhuman terrors paraded in others, what horrible cruelties perpetrated in others, what leading objects sought in each. The Mysteries have many bearings on several distinct subjects; but in those aspects we have not space here to examine them. We purpose to consider them solely in their relation to the doctrine of a future life. We are convinced that the very heart of their secret, the essence of their meaning in their origin and their end, was no other than the doctrine of an immortality succeeding a death. Gessner published a book at Gottingen, so long ago as the year 1755, maintaining this very assertion. His work, which is quite scarce now, bears the title "Dogma de perenni Animoruin Natura per Sacra pracipue Eleusinia Propagata." The consenting testimony of more than forty of the most authoritative ancient writers comes down to us in their surviving works to the effect that those who were admitted into the Mysteries were thereby purified, led to holy lives, joined in communion with the gods, and 2 Suetonius, Vita Neronis, cap. xxxiv. 3 Lib. xxxix. cap. viii xvi. assured of a better fate than otherwise could be expected in the future state. Two or three specimens from these witnesses will suffice. Aristophanes, in the second act of the Frogs, describes an elysium of the initiates after death, where he says they bound "in sportive dances on rose enamelled meadows; for the light is cheerful only to those who have been initiated."4 Pausanias describes the uninitiated as being compelled in Hades to carry water in buckets bored full of holes.5 Isocrates says, in his Panegyric, "Demeter, the goddess of the Eleusinian Mysteries, fortifies those who have been initiated against the fear of death, and teaches them to have sweet hopes concerning eternity." The old Orphic verses cited by Thomas Taylor in his Treatise on the Mysteries run thus: "The soul that uninitiated dies Plunged in the blackest mire in Hades lies." 6 The same statement is likewise found in Plato, who, in another place, also explicitly declares that a doctrine of future retribution was taught in the Mysteries and believed by the serious.7 Cicero says, "Initiation makes us both live more honorably and die with better hopes." 8 In seasons of imminent danger as in a shipwreck it was customary for a man to ask his companion, Hast thou been initiated? The implication is that initiation removed fear of death by promising a happy life to follow.9 A fragment preserved from a very ancient author is plain on this subject. "The soul is affected in death just as it is in the initiation into the great Mysteries: thing answers to thing. At first it passes through darkness, horrors, and toils. Then are disclosed a wondrous light, pure places, flowery meads, replete with mystic sounds, dances, and sacred doctrines, and holy visions. Then, perfectly enlightened, they are free: crowned, they walk about worshipping the gods and conversing with good men."10 The principal part of the hymn to Ceres, attributed to Homer, is occupied with a narrative of her labors to endow the young Demophoon, mortal child of Metaneira, with immortality. Now, Ceres was the goddess of the Mysteries; and the last part of this very hymn recounts how Persephone was snatched from the light of life into Hades and restored again. Thus we see that the implications of the indirect evidence, the leanings and guidings of all the incidental clews now left us to the real aim and purport of the Mysteries, combine to assure us that their chief teaching was a doctrine of a future life in which there should be rewards and punishments. All this we shall more fully establish, both by direct proofs and by collateral supports. It is a well known fact, intimately connected with the different religions of Greece and Asia Minor, that during the time of harvest in the autumn, and again at the season of sowing in the spring, the shepherds, the vintagers, and the people in general, were accustomed to observe certain sacred festivals, the autumnal sad, the vernal joyous. These undoubtedly grew out of the deep sympathy between man and nature over the decay and disappearance, the revival and return, of vegetation. When the hot season had withered the verdure of the 4 Scene iii. 5 Lib. x. cap. xxxi. 6 Phadon, sect. xxxviii. 7 Leg., lib. ix. cap. x. 8 De Leg., lib. ii. cap. xiv. 9 St. John, Hellenes, ch. xi. 10 Sentences of Stobaus, Sermo CXIX. fields, plaintive songs were sung, their wild melancholy notes and snatches borne abroad by the breeze and their echoes dying at last in the distance. In every instance, these mournful strains were the annual lamentation of the people over the death of some mythical boy of extraordinary beauty and promise, who, in the flower of youth, was suddenly drowned, or torn in pieces by wild beasts, "Some Hyacinthine boy, for whom Morn well might break and April bloom." Among the Argives it was Linus. With the Arcadians it was Scephrus. In Phrygia it was Lityerses. On the shore of the Black Sea it was Bormus. In the country of the Bithynians it was Hylas. At Pelusium it was Maneros. And in Syria it was Adonis. The untimely death of these beautiful boys, carried off in their morning of life, was yearly bewailed, their names re echoing over the plains, the fountains, and among the hills. It is obvious that these cannot have been real persons whose death excited a sympathy so general, so recurrent. "The real object of lamentation," says Muller, "was the tender beauty of spring destroyed by the raging heat, and other similar phenomena, which the imagination of those early times invested with a personal form."11 All this was woven into the Mysteries, whose great legend and drama were that every autumn Persephone was carried down to the dark realm of the King of Shadows, but that she was to return each spring to her mother's arms. Thus were described the withdrawal and reappearance of vegetable life in the alternations of the seasons. But these changes of nature typified the changes in the human lot; else Persephone would have been merely a symbol of the buried grain and would not have become the Queen of the Dead.12 Her return to the world of light, by natural analogy, denoted a new birth to men. Accordingly, "all the testimony of antiquity concurs in saying that these Mysteries inspired the most animating hopes with regard to the condition of the soul after death."13 That the fate of man should by imagination and sentiment have been so connected with the phenomena of nature in myths and symbols embodied in pathetic religious ceremonies was a spontaneous product. For how "Her fresh benignant look Nature changes at that lorn season when, With tresses drooping o'er her sable stole, She yearly mourns the mortal doom of man, Her noblest work! So Israel's virgins erst With annual moan upon the mountains wept Their fairest gone!" And soon again the birds begin to warble, the leaves and blossoms put forth, and all is new life once more. In every age the gentle heart and meditative mind have been impressed by the mournful correspondence and the animating prophecy. 11 History of the Literature of Ancient Greece, ch. iii. sects. 2 3. 12 For the connection of the Eleusinian goddesses with agriculture, the seasons, the under world, death, resurrection, etc., see "Demeter and Persephone," von Dr. Ludwig Preller, kap. i. sects. 9 11. 13 Muller, Hist. Gr. Lit., ch. xvi. sect. 2. But not only was the changing recurrence of dreary winter and gladsome summer joined by affecting analogies with the human doom of death and hope of another life. The phenomena of the skies, the impressive succession of day and night, also were early seized upon and made to blend their shadows and lights, by means of imaginative suggestions, into an image of the decease and resurrection of man. Among the Mystical Hymns of Orpheus, so called, there is a hymn to Adonis, in which that personage is identified with the sun alternately sinking to Tartarus and soaring to heaven. It was customary with the ancients to speak of the setting of a constellation as its death, its reascension in the horizon being its return to life.14 The black abysm under the earth was the realm of the dead. The bright expanse above the earth was the realm of the living. While the daily sun rises royally through the latter, all things rejoice in the warmth and splendor of his smile. When he sinks nightly, shorn of his ambrosial beams, into the former, sky and earth wrap themselves in mourning for their departed monarch, the dead god of light muffled in his bier and borne along the darkening heavens to his burial. How naturally the phenomena of human fate would be symbolically interwoven with all this! Especially alike are the exuberant joy and activity of full life and of day, the melancholy stillness and sad repose of midnight and of death. The sun insists on gladness; but at night, When he is gone, poor Nature loves to weep." Through her yearly and her diurnal round alike, therefore, does mother Nature sympathize with man, and picture forth his fate, in type of autumnal decay, and wintry darkness, and night buried seed, in sign of vernal bud, and summer light, and day bursting fruit. These facts and phenomena of nature and man, together with explanatory theories to which they gave rise, were, by the peculiar imaginative processes so powerfully operative among the earliest nations, personified in mythic beings and set forth as literal history. Their doctrine was inculcated as truth once historically exemplified by some traditional personage. It was dramatically impersonated and enacted in the process of initiation into the Mysteries. A striking instance of this kind of theatrical representation is afforded by the celebration, every eight years, of the mythus of Apollo's fight with the Pythian dragon, his flight and expiatory service to Admetus, the subterranean king of the dead. In mimic order, a boy slew a monster at Delphi, ran along the road to Tempe, represented on the way the bondage of the god in Hades, and returned, purified, bringing a branch of laurel from the sacred valley.15 The doctrine of a future life connected with the legend of some hero who had died, descended into the under world, and again risen to life, this doctrine, dramatically represented in the personal experience of the initiate, was the heart of every one of the secret religious societies of antiquity. "Here rests the secret, here the keys, Of the old death bolted Mysteries." 14 Leitch's Eng. trans. of K. O. Muller's Introduction to a Scientific System of Mythology, Appendix, pp. 339-342. 15 Muller, Introduction to Mythology, pp. 97 and 241. Also his Dorian, lib. ii. cap. vii. sect. 8. Perhaps this great system of esoteric rites and instructions grew up naturally, little by little. Perhaps it was constructed at once, either as poetry, by a company of poets, or as a theology, by a society of priests, or as a fair method of moral and religious teaching, by a company of philosophers. Or perhaps it was gradually formed by a mixture of all these means and motives. Many have regarded it as the bedimmed relic of a brilliant primeval revelation. This question of the origination, the first causes and purposes, of the Mysteries is now sunk in hopeless obscurity, even were it of any importance to be known. One thing we know, namely, that at an early age these societies formed organizations of formidable extent and power, and were vitally connected with the prevailing religions of the principal nations of the earth. In Egypt the legend of initiation was this.16 Typhon, a wicked, destroying personage, once formed a conspiracy against his brother, the good king Osiris. Having prepared a costly chest, inlaid with gold, he offered to give it to any one whose body would fit it. Osiris unsuspiciously lay down in it. Typhon instantly fastened the cover and threw the fatal chest into the river. This was called the loss or burial of Osiris, and was annually celebrated with all sorts of melancholy rites. But the winds and waves drove the funereal vessel ashore, where Isis, the inconsolable wife of Osiris, wandering in search of her husband's remains, at last found it, and restored the corpse to life. This part of the drama was called the discovery or resurrection of Osiris, and was also enacted yearly, but with every manifestation of excessive joy. "In the losing of Osiris, and then in the finding him again," Augustine writes, "first their lamentation, then their extravagant delight, are a mere play and fiction; yet the fond people, though they neither lose nor find any thing, weep and rejoice truly."17 Plutarch speaks of the death, regeneration, and resurrection of Osiris represented in the great religious festivals of Egypt. He explains the rites in commemoration of Typhon's murder of Osiris as symbols referring to four things, the subsidence of the Nile into his channel, the cessation of the delicious Etesian winds before the hot blasts of the South, the encroachment of the lengthening night on the shortening day, the disappearance of the bloom of summer before the barrenness of winter.18 But the real interest and power of the whole subject probably lay in the direct relation of all these phenomena, traditions, and ceremonies to the doctrine of death and a future life for man. In the Mithraic Mysteries of Persia, the legend, ritual, and doctrine were virtually the same as the foregoing. They are credulously said to have been established by Zoroaster himself, who fitted up a vast grotto in the mountains of Bokhara, where thousands thronged to be initiated by him.19 This Mithraic cave was an emblem of the universe, its roof painted with the constellations of the zodiac, its depths full of the black and fiery terrors of grisly hell, its summit illuminated with the blue and starry splendors of heaven, its passages lined with dangers and instructions, now quaking with infernal shrieks, now breathing celestial music. In the Persian Mysteries, the initiate, in dramatic show, died, was laid in a coffin, and 16 Wilkinson, Egyptian Antiquities, series i. vol. i. ch. 3. 17 De Civitate Dei, lib. vi. cap. 10. 18 De Is. et Osir. 19 Porphyry, De Antro Nympharum. Tertullian, Prescript. ad Her., cap. xl., where he refers the mimic death and resurrection in the Mithraic Mysteries to the teaching of Satan. afterwards rose unto a new life, all of which was a type of the natural fate of man.20 The descent of the soul from heaven and its return thither were denoted by a torch borne alternately reversed and upright, and by the descriptions of the passage of spirits, in the round of the metempsychosis, through the planetary gates of the zodiac. The sun and moon and the morning and evening star were depicted in brilliant gold or blackly muffled, according to their journeying in the upper or in the lower hemisphere.21 The hero of the Syrian Mysteries was Adonis or Thammuz, the beautiful favorite of Aphrodite, untimely slain by a wild boar. His death was sadly, his resurrection joyously, celebrated every year at Byblus with great pomp and universal interest. The festival lasted two days. On the first, all things were clad in mourning, sorrow was depicted in every face, and wails and weeping resounded. Coffins were exposed at every door and borne in numerous processions. Frail stalks of young corn and flowers were thrown into the river to perish, as types of the premature death of blooming Adonis, cut off like a plant in the bud of his age.22 The second day the whole aspect of things was changed, and the greatest exultation prevailed, because it was said Adonis had returned from the dead.23 Venus, having found him dead, deposited his body on a bed of lettuce and mourned bitterly over him. From his blood sprang the adonium, from her tears the anemone.24 The Jews were captivated by the religious rites connected with this touching myth, and even enacted them in the gates of their holy temple. Ezekiel says, "Behold, at the gate of the Lord's house which was towards the north [the direction of night and winter] there sat women weeping for Tammuz." It was said that Aphrodite prevailed on Persephone to let Adonis dwell one half the year with her on earth, and only the rest among the shades, a plain reference to vegetable life in summer and winter.25 Lucian, in his little treatise on the Syrian Goddess, says that "the river Adonis, rising out of Mount Libanus, at certain seasons flows red in its channel: some say it is miraculously stained by the blood of the fresh wounded youth; others say that the spring rains, washing in a red ore from the soil of the country, discolor the stream." Dupuis remarks that this redness was probably an artifice of the priests.26 Milton's beautiful allusion to this fable is familiar to most persons. Next came he "Whose annual wound in Lebanon allured The Syrian damsels to lament his fate In amorous ditties all a summer's day, While smooth Adonis from his native rock Ran purple to the sea with Thammuz' blood." 20 Julius Firmicus, De Errore Prof. Relig. 21 Mithraica, Memoire Academique sur le Culte Solaire de Mithra, par Joseph de Hammer, pp: 66-68, 125-127. Tertullian, Prescript. ad Her., cap. xl. Porphyry, De Abstinentia, lib. iv. sect. 16. Hyde. Hist. Vet. Pers. Relig., p. 254. 22 Hist. du Culte d'Adonis, Mem. Acad. des Inscript., vol. iv. p. 136. 23 Theocritus, Idyl XV. 24 Bion, Epitaph Adon., l. 66. 25 See references in Anthon's Class. Dict., art. Adonis. 26 Dupuis, Orig. de Cultes, vol. iv. p. 121, ed. 1822. There is no end to the discussions concerning the secret purport of this fascinating story. But, after all is said, it seems to us that there are in it essentially two significations, one relating to the phenomena of the sun and the earth, the other to the mutual changes of nature and the fate of humanity. Aphrodite bewailing Adonis is surviving Nature mourning for departed Man. In India the story was told of Mahadeva searching for his lost consort Sita, and, after discovering her lifeless form, bearing it around the world with dismal lamentations. Sometimes it was the death of Camadeva, the Hindu Cupid, that was mourned with solemn dirges.27 He, like Osiris, was slain, enclosed in a chest, and committed to the waves. He was afterwards recovered and resuscitated. Each initiate passed through the emblematic ceremonies corresponding to the points of this pretended history. The Phrygians associated the same great doctrine with the persons of Atys and Cybele. Atys was a lovely shepherd youth passionately loved by the mother of the gods.28 He suddenly died; and she, in frantic grief, wandered over the earth in search of him, teaching the people where she went the arts of agriculture. He was at length restored to her. Annually the whole drama was performed by the assembled nation with sobs of woe succeeded by ecstasies of joy.29 Similar to this, in the essential features, was the Eleusinian myth. Aidoneus snatched the maiden Kore down to his gloomy empire. Her mother, Demeter, set off in search of her, scattering the blessings of agriculture, and finally discovered her, and obtained the promise of her society for half of every year. These adventures were dramatized and explained in the mysteries which she, according to tradition, instituted at Eleusis. The form of the legend was somewhat differently incorporated with the Bacchic Mysteries. It was elaborately wrought up by the Orphic poets. The distinctive name they gave to Bacchus or Dionysus was Zagreus. He was the son of Zeus, and was chosen by him to sit on the throne of heaven. Zeus gave him Apollo and the Curetes as guards; but the brutal Titans, instigated by jealous Hera, disguised themselves and fell on the unfortunate youth while his attention was fixed on a splendid mirror, and, after a fearful conflict, overcame him and tore him into seven pieces. Pallas, however, saved his palpitating heart, and Zeus swallowed it. Zagreus was then begotten again.30 He was destined to restore the golden age. His devotees looked to him for the liberation of their souls through the purifying rites of his Mysteries. The initiation shadowed out an esoteric doctrine of death and a future life, in the mock murder and new birth of the aspirant, who impersonated Zagreus.31 The Northmen constructed the same drama of death around the young Balder, their god of gentleness and beauty. This legend, as Dr. Oliver has shown, constituted the secret of the Gothic Mysteries.32 Obscure and dread prophecies having crept among the gods that the death of the beloved Balder was at hand, portending universal ruin, a consultation was held to devise means for averting the calamity. At the suggestion of Balder's mother, Freya, the Scandinavian Venus, an oath that they would not be instrumental in causing his death was 27 Asiatic Researches, vol. iii. p. 187. 28 See article Atys in Smith's Class. Dict. with references. 29 Lucretius, De Rerum Natura, lib. ii. 11. 605-655. 30 Muller, Hist. Greek Lit., ch. xvi. 31 Lobeck, Aglaophamus, lib. iii. cap. 5, sect. 13. 32 History of Initiation, Lect. X. exacted from all things in nature except the mistletoe, which, on account of its frailty and insignificance, was scornfully neglected. Asa Loke, the evil principle of the Norse faith, taking advantage of this fatal exception, had a spear made of mistletoe, and with it armed Hodur, a strong but blind god. Freya, rejoicing in fancied security, to convince Balder of his charmed exemption from wounds, persuaded him to be the mark for the weapons of the gods. But, alas! when Hodur tilted at him, the devoted victim was transpierced and fell lifeless to the ground. Darkness settled over the world, and bitter was the grief of men and gods over the innocent and lovely Balder. A deputation imploring his release was sent to the queen of the dead. Hela so far relented as to promise his liberation to the upper world on condition that every thing on earth wept for him. Straightway there was a universal mourning. Men, beasts, trees, metals, stones, wept. But an old withered giantess Asa Loke in disguise shed no tears; and so Hela kept her beauteous and lamented prey. But he is to rise again to eternal life and joy when the twilight of the gods has passed.33 This entire fable has been explained by the commentators, in all its details, as a poetic embodiment of the natural phenomena of the seasons. But it is not improbable that, in addition, it bore a profound doctrinal reference to the fate of man which was interpreted to the initiates. A great deal has been written concerning the ceremonies and meaning of the celebrated Celtic Mysteries established so long at Samothrace, and under the administration of the Druids throughout ancient Gaul and Britain. The aspirant was led through a series of scenic representations, "without the aid of words," mystically shadowing forth in symbolic forms the doctrine of the transmigration of souls. He assumed successively the shapes of a rabbit, a hen, a grain of wheat, a horse, a tree, and so on through a wide range of metamorphoses enacted by the aid of secret dramatic machinery. He died, was buried, was born anew, rising from his dark confinement to life again. The hierophant enclosed him in a little boat and set him adrift, pointing him to a distant rock, which he calls "the harbor of life." Across the black and stormy waters he strives to gain the beaconing refuge. In these scenes and rites a recondite doctrine of the physical and moral relations and destiny of man was shrouded, to be unveiled by degrees to their docile disciples by the Druidic mystagogues.34 It may appear strange that there should be in connection with so many of the old religions of the earth these arcana only to be approached by secret initiation at the hands of hierophants. But it will seem natural when we remember that those religions were in the exclusive keeping of priesthoods, which, organized with wondrous cunning and perpetuated through ages, absorbed the science, art, and philosophy of the world, and, concealing their wisdom in the mystic signs of an esoteric language, wielded the mighty enginery of superstition over the people at will. The scenes and instructions through which the priests led the unenlightened candidate were the hiding of their power. Thus, wherever was a priesthood we should expect to find mysteries and initiations. Historic fact justifies the 33 Pigott, Manual of Scandinavian Mythology, pp. 288-300. 34 Davies, Mythology and Rites of the British Druids, pp. 207-257; 390-392; 420, 555, 572. The accuracy of many of Davies's translations has been called in question. His statements, even on the matters affirmed above, must be received with some reservation of faith. supposition; learning unveils the obscure places of antiquity, and shows us the templed or cavernous rites of the religious world, from Hindostan to Gaul, from Egypt to Norway, from Athens to Mexico. And this brings us to the Mysteries of Vitzliputzli, established in South America. Dr. Oliver, in the twelfth lecture of his History of Initiation, gathering his materials from various sources, gives a terrific account of the dramatic ritual here employed. The walls, floor, images, were smeared and caked with human blood. Fresh slaughters of victims were perpetrated at frequent intervals. The candidate descended to the grim caverns excavated under the foundations of the temple. This course was denominated "the path of the dead." Phantoms flitted before him, shrieks appalled him, pitfalls and sacrificial knives threatened him. At last, after many frightful adventures, the aspirant arrived at a narrow stone fissure terminating the range of caverns, through which he was thrust, and was received in the open air, as a person born again, and welcomed with frantic shouts by the multitudes who had been waiting for him without during the process of his initiation. Even among the savage tribes of North America striking traces have been found of an initiation into a secret society by a mystic death and resurrection. Captain Jonathan Carver, who spent the winter of 1776 with the Naudowessie Indians, was an eye witness of the admission of a young brave into a body which they entitled Wakou Kitchewah, or Friendly Society of the Spirit. "This singular initiation," he says, "took place within a railed enclosure in the centre of the camp at the time of the new moon." First came the chiefs, clad in trailing furs. Then came the members of the society, dressed and painted in the gayest manner. When all were seated, one of the principal chiefs arose, and, leading the young man forward, informed the meeting of his desire to be admitted into their circle. No objection being offered, the various preliminary arrangements were made; after which the director began to speak to the kneeling candidate, telling him that he was about to receive a communication of the spirit. This spirit would instantly strike him dead; but he was told not to be terrified, because he should immediately be restored to life again, and this experience was a necessary introduction to the advantages of the community he was on the point of entering. Then violent agitation distorted the face and convulsed the frame of the old chief. He threw something looking like a small bean at the young man. It entered his mouth, and he fell lifeless as suddenly as if he had been shot. Several assistants received him, rubbed his limbs, beat his back, stripped him of his garments and put a new dress on him, and finally presented him to the society in full consciousness as a member.36 All the Mysteries were funereal. This is the most striking single phenomenon connected with them. They invariably began in darkness with groans and tears, but as invariably ended in festive triumph with shouts and smiles. In them all were a symbolic death, a mournful entombment, and a glad resurrection. We know this from the abundant direct testimony of unimpeachable ancient writers, and also from their indirect descriptions of the ceremonies and allusions to them. For example, Apuleius says, "The delivery of the Mysteries is celebrated as a thing resembling a voluntary death: the initiate, being, after a manner, born 36 Travels in the Interior of North America, ch. vii. again, is restored to a new life." 36 Indeed, all who describe the course of initiation agree in declaring that the aspirant was buried for a time within some narrow space, a typical coffin or grave. This testimony is confirmed by the evidence of the ruins of the chief temples and sacred places of the pagan world. These abound with spacious caverns, labyrinthine passages, and curious recesses; and in connection with them is always found some excavation evidently fitted to enclose a human form. Such hollow beds, covered with flat stones easily removed, are still to be seen amidst the Druidic remains of Britain and Gaul, as well as in nearly every spot where tradition has located the celebration of the Mysteries, in Greece, India, Persia, Egypt.37 It becomes a most interesting question whence these symbols and rites had their origin, and what they were really meant to shadow forth. Bryant, Davies, Faber, Oliver, and several other well known mythologists, have labored, with no slight learning and ingenuity, to show that all these ceremonies sprang from traditions of the Deluge and of Noah's adventures at that time. The mystic death, burial, and resurrection of the initiate, they say, are a representation of the entrance of the patriarch into the ark, his dark and lonesome sojourn in it, and his final departure out of it. The melancholy wailings with which the Mysteries invariably began, typified the mourning of the patriarchal family over their confinement within the gloomy and sepulchral ark; the triumphant rejoicings with which the initiations always ended, referred to the glad exit of the patriarchal family from their floating prison into the blooming world. The advocates of this theory have laboriously collected all the materials that favor it, and skilfully striven by their means to elucidate the whole subject of ancient paganism, especially of the Mysteries. But, after reading all that they have written, and considering it in the light of impartial researches, one is constrained to say that they have by no means made out their case. It is somewhat doubtful if there be any ground whatever for believing that traditions concerning Noah's deluge and the ark, and his doings in connection with them, in any way entered into the public doctrines and forms, or into the secret initiations, of the heathen religions. At all events, there can be no doubt that the Arkite theorists have exaggerated the importance and extent of these views beyond all tolerable bounds, and even to absurdity. But our business with them now is only so far as they relate to the Mysteries. Our own conviction is that the real meaning of the rites in the Mysteries was based upon the affecting phenomena of human life and death and the hope of another life. We hold the Arkite theory to be arbitrary in general, unsupported by proofs, and inconsistent in detail, unable to meet the points presented. In the first place, a fundamental part of the ancient belief was that below the surface of the earth was a vast, sombre under world, the destination of the ghosts of men, the Greek Hades, the Roman Orcus, the Gothic Hell. A part of the service of initiation was a symbolic descent into this realm. Apuleius, describing his initiation, says, "I approached to the confines 36 Golden Ass, Eng. trans., by Thomas Taylor, p. 280. 37 Copious instances are given in Oliver's History of Initiation, in Faber's Origin of Pagan Idolatry, and in Maurice's Indian Antiquities. of death and trod on the threshold of Proserpine." 38 Orpheus, to whom the introduction of the Mysteries into Greece from the East was ascribed, wrote a poem, now lost, called the "Descent into Hades." Such a descent was attributed to Hercules, Theseus, Rhampsinitus, and many others.39 It is painted in detail by Homer in the adventure of his hero Ulysses, also by Virgil much more minutely through the journey of Aneas. Warburton labors with great learning and plausibility, and, as it seems to us, with irresistible cogency, to show that these descents are no more nor less than exoteric accounts of what was dramatically enacted in the esoteric recesses of the Mysteries.40 Any person must be invincibly prejudiced who can doubt that the Greek Hades meant a capacious subterranean world of shades. Now, to assert, as Bryant and his disciples do,41 that "Hades means the interior of Noah's ark," or "the abyss of waters on which the ark floated, as a coffin bearing the relics of dead Nature," is a purely arbitrary step taken from undue attachment to a mere theory. Hades means the under world of the dead, and not the interior of Noah's ark. Indeed, in the second place, Faber admits that in the Mysteries "the ark itself was supposed to be in Hades, the vast central abyss of the earth." But such was not the location of Noah's vessel and voyage. They were on the face of the flood, above the tops of the mountains. It is beyond comparison the most reasonable supposition in itself, and the one best supported by historic facts, that the representations of a mystic burial and voyage in a ship or boat shown in the ancient religions were symbolic rites drawn from imagination and theory as applied to the impressive phenomena of nature and the lot of man. The Egyptians and some other early nations, we know, figured the starry worlds in the sky as ships sailing over a celestial sea. The earth itself was sometimes emblematized in the same way. Then, too, there was the sepulchral barge in which the Egyptian corpses were borne over the Acherusian lake to be entombed. Also the "dark blue punt" in which Charon ferried souls across the river of death. In these surely there was no reference to Noah's ark. It seems altogether likely that what Bryant and his coadjutors have constructed into the Arkite system of interpretation was really but an emblematic showing forth of a natural doctrine of human life and death and future fate. A wavering boat floating on the deep might, with striking fitness, typify the frail condition of humanity in life, as when Hercules is depicted sailing over the ocean in a golden cup; and that boat, safely riding the flood, might also represent the cheerful faith of the initiate in a future life, bearing him fearlessly through all dangers and through death to the welcoming society of Elysium, as when Danae and her babe, tossed over the tempestuous sea in a fragile chest, were securely wafted to the sheltering shore of Seriphus. No emblem of our human state and lot, with their mysteries, perils, threats, and promises, could be either more natural or more impressive than that of a vessel launched on the deep. The dying Socrates said "that he should trust his soul on the hope of a future life as upon a raft, and launch away into the unknown." Thus the imagination broods over and explores the shows and secrets, presageful warnings and alluring 38 Golden Ass, Taylor's trans., p. 283. 39 Herodotus, lib. il. cap. cxxii. 40 Divine Legation of Moses, book ii. sect. iv. 41 Faber, Mysteries of the Cabiri, ch. v.: On the Connection of the Fabulous Hades with the Mysteries. invitations, storms and calms, island homes and unknown havens, of the dim seas of nature and of man, of time and of eternity.42 Thirdly, the defenders of the Arkite theory are driven into gross inconsistencies with themselves by the falsity of their views. The dilaceration of Zagreus into fragments, the mangling of Osiris and scattering of his limbs abroad, they say, refer to the throwing open of the ark and the going forth of the inmates to populate the earth. They usually make Osiris, Zagreus, Adonis, and the other heroes of the legends enacted in the Mysteries, representatives of the diluvian patriarch himself; but here, with no reason whatever save the exigencies of their theory, they make these mythic personages representatives of the ark, a view which is utterly unfounded and glaringly wanting in analogy. When Zagreus is torn in pieces, his heart is preserved alive by Zeus and born again into the world within a human form. After the body of Osiris had been strewn piecemeal, the fragments were fondly gathered by Isis, and he was restored to life. There is no plausible correspondence between these cases and the sending out from the ark of the patriarchal family to repeople the world. Their real purpose would seem plainly to be to symbolize the thought that, however the body of man crumbles in pieces, there is life for him still, he does not hopelessly die. They likewise say that the egg which was consecrated in the Mysteries, at the beginning of the rites, was intended as an emblem of the ark resting on the abyss of waters, and that its latent hatching was meant to suggest the opening of the ark to let the imprisoned patriarch forth. This hypothesis has no proof, and is needless. It is much more plausible to suppose that the egg was meant as a symbol of a new life about to burst upon the candidate, a symbol of his resurrection from the mystic tomb wherein he was buried during one stage of initiation; for we know that the initiation was often regarded as the commencement of a fresh life, as a new birth. Apuleius says, "I celebrated the most joyful day of my initiation as my natal day." Faber argues, from the very close similarity of all the differently named Mysteries, that they were all Arkite, all derived from one mass of traditions reaching from Noah and embodying his history.43 The asserted fact of general resemblance among the instituted Mysteries is unquestionable; but the inference above drawn from it is unwarrantable, even if no better explanation could be offered. But there is another explanation ready, more natural in conception, more consistent in detail, and better sustained by evidence. The various Mysteries celebrated in the ancient nations were so much alike not because they were all founded on one world wide tradition about the Noachian deluge, but because they all grew out of the great common facts of human destiny in connection with natural phenomena. The Mysteries were funereal and festive, began in sorrow and ended in joy, not because they represented first Noah's sad entrance into the ark and then his glad exit from it, but because they began with showing the initiate that he must die, and ended with showing him that he should live again in a happier state. Even the most prejudiced advocates of the Arkite theory 42 Procopius, in his History of the Gothic War, mentions a curious popular British superstition concerning the ferriage of souls among the neighboring islands at midnight. See Grimm's Deutsche Mythologie, kap. xxvi. zweite ausgabe. 43 Mysteries of the Cabiri, ch. 10: Comparison of the Various Mysteries. are forced to admit, on the explicit testimony of the ancients, that the initiates passed from the darkness and horrors of Tartarus to the bliss and splendors of Elysium by a dramatic resurrection from burial in the black caverns of probation to admission within the illuminated hall or dome of perfection.44 That the idea of death and of another life runs through all the Mysteries as their cardinal tenet is well shown in connection with the rites of the celebrated Cave of Trophonius at Lebadea in Boeotia. Whoso sought this oracle must descend head foremost over an inclined plane, bearing a honey cake in his hand. Aristophanes speaks of this descent with a shudder of fear.45 The adventurer was suddenly bereft of his senses, and after a while returned to the upper air. What he could then remember composed the Divine revelation which had been communicated to him in his unnatural state below. Plutarch has given a full account of this experience from one Timarchus, who had himself passed through it.46 The substance of it is this. When Timarchus reached the bottom of the cave, his soul passed from his body, visited the under world of the departed, saw the sphere of generation where souls were reborn into the upper world, received some explanation of all these things: then, returning into the body, he was taken up out of the cave. Here is no allusion to any traditions of the Deluge or the ark; but the great purpose is evidently a doctrine of the destiny of man after death. Before the eyes and upon the heart of all mankind in every age has passed in common vision the revolution of the seasons, with its beautiful and sombre changes, phenomena having a power of suggestion irresistible to stir some of the most profound sentiments of the human breast. The day rolls overhead full of light and life and activity; then the night settles upon the scene with silent gloom and repose. So man runs his busy round of toil and pleasure through the day of existence; then, fading, following the sinking sun, he goes down in death's night to the pallid populations of shade. Again: the fruitful bloom of summer is succeeded by the bleak nakedness of winter. So the streams of enterprise and joy that flowed full and free along their banks in maturity, overhung by blossoming trees, are shrivelled and frozen in the channels of age, and above their sepulchral beds the leafless branches creak in answer to the shrieks of the funereal blast. The flush of childish gayety, the bloom of youthful promise, when a new comer is growing up sporting about the hearth of home, are like the approach of the maiden and starry Spring, "Who comes sublime, as when, from Pluto free, Came, through the flash of Zeus, Persephone." And then draw hastily on the long, lamenting autumnal days, when "Above man's grave the sad winds wail and rain drops fall, And Nature sheds her leaves in yearly funeral." 44 Faber, Mysteries of the Cabiri, ch. 10, pp. 331-356. Dion Chrysostom describes this scene: Oration XII. 45 The Clouds, 1. 507. 46 Essay on the Demon of Socrates. See also Pansanias, lib. ix. cap. xxxix. The flowers are gone, the birds are gone, the gentle breezes are gone; and man too must go, go mingle with the pale people of dreams. But not wholly and forever shall he die. The sun soars into new day from the embrace of night; summer restored hastens on the heels of retreating winter; vegetation but retires and surely returns, and the familiar song of the birds shall sweeten the renewing woods afresh for a million springs. Apollo weeping over the beauteous and darling boy, his slain and drooped Hyacinthus, is the sun shorn of his fierce beams and mourning over the annual wintry desolation: it is also Nature bewailing the remediless loss of man, her favorite companion. It was these general analogies and suggestions, striking the imagination, affecting the heart, enlisting the reason, wrought out, personified, and dramatized by poets, taken up with a mass of other associated matter by priestly societies and organized in a scheme of legendary doctrine and an imposing ritual, that constituted the basis and the central meaning of the old Mysteries; and not a vapid tradition about Noah and his ark. The aim of these institutions as they were wielded was threefold; and in each particular they exerted tremendous power. The first object was to stretch over the wicked the restraining influence of a doctrine of future punishment, to fill them with a fearful looking for judgment in the invisible world. And a considerable proportion of this kind of fear among the ancients is to be traced to the secret influence of the Mysteries, the revelations and terrors there applied. The second desire was to encourage the good and obedient with inspiring hopes of a happy fate and glorious rewards beyond the grave. Plutarch writes to his wife, (near the close of his letter of consolation to her,) "Some say the soul will be entirely insensible after death; but you are too well acquainted with the doctrines delivered in the Mysteries of Bacchus, and with the symbols of our fraternity, to harbor such an error." The third purpose was, by the wonders and splendors, the secret awe, the mysterious authority and venerable sanctions, thrown around the society and its ceremonies, to establish its doctrines in the reverential acceptance of the people, and thus to increase the power of the priesthood and the state. To compass these ends, the hidden science, the public force, the vague superstition, the treasured wealth, and all the varied resources available by the ancient world, were marshalled and brought to bear in the Mysteries. By chemical and mechanical secrets then in their exclusive possession, the mystagogues worked miracles before the astonished novices.47 They had the powers of electricity, gunpowder, hydrostatic pressure, at their command.48 Their rites were carried out on the most magnificent scale. The temple at Eleusis could hold thirty thousand persons. Imagine what effect might be produced, under such imposing and prepared circumstances, on an ignorant multitude, by a set of men holding all the scientific secrets and mechanical inventions till then discovered, illumination flashing after darkness successively before their smitten eyes, the floors seeming to heave and the walls to crack, thunders bellowing through the mighty dome; now yawning revealed beneath them the ghostly chimera of Tartarus, with all the shrieking and horrid scenery gathered there; now 47 Anthon's Class. Dict., art. "Elicius." 48 Salverte, Des Sciences Occultes, ou Essai sur la Magie. See also editor's introduction to Thomson's Eng. trans. of Salverte's work. the mild beauties of Elysium dawning on their ravished vision, amid strains of celestial music, through fading clouds of glory, while nymphs, heroes, and gods walked apparent. Clement of Alexandria tells us that one feature of the initiation was a display of the grisly secrets of Hades.49 Apuleius, in his account of his own initiation, says, "At midnight I saw the sun shining with a resplendent light; and I manifestly drew near to the lower and to the upper gods and adored them in immediate presence." 50 Lobeck says that, on the lifting of the veil exposing the adytum to the gaze of the initiates, apparitions of the gods appeared to them.51 Christie, in his little work on the Greek Mysteries, says that the doctrines of the Eleusinian shows were explained by means of transparent scenes, many of which were faithfully copied upon the painted Greek vases; and these vase accordingly, were deposited in tombs to evidence the faith of the deceased in a future life. The foregoing conceptions may be illustrated by the dramatic representations, scenic shadows behind transparent curtains, in Java, alluded to by Sir Stamford Raffles.52 It is remarkable how far the Mysteries spread over the earth, and what popularity they attained. They penetrated into almost every nation under the sun. They admitted, in some degree, nearly the whole people. Herodotus informs us that there were collected in Egypt, at one celebration, seven hundred thousand men and women, besides children.53 The greatest warriors and kings Philip, Alexander, Sulla, Antony esteemed it an honor to be welcomed within the mystic pale. "Men," says Cicero, "came from the most distant shores to be initiated at Eleusis." Sophocles declares, as quoted by Warburton, "True life is to be found only among the initiates: all other places are full of evil." At the rise of the Christian religion, all the life and power left in the national religion of Greece and Rome were in the Mysteries. Accordingly, here was the most formidable foe of the new faith. Standing in its old entrenchments, with all its popular prestige around it, it fought with desperate determination for every inch it was successively forced to yield. The brilliant effort of Julian to roll back the tide of Christianity and restore the pagan religion to more than its pristine splendor an effort beneath which the scales of the world's fortunes poised, tremulous, for a while was chiefly an endeavor to revive and enlarge the Mysteries. Such was the attachment of the people to these old rites even in the middle of the fourth century of the Christian era, that a murderous riot broke out at Alexandria, in which Bishop George and others were slain, on occasion of the profanation by Christians of a secret adytum in which the Mysteries of Mithra were celebrated.54 And when, a little later, the Emperor Valentinian had determined to suppress all nocturnal rites, he was induced to withdraw his resolution by Pretextatus, proconsul in Greece, "a man endowed with every virtue, who represented to him that the 49 Stromata, lib. iii., cited by a writer on the Mysteries in Blackwood, Feb. 1853, pp. 201-203. 50 Taylor's trans. of Golden Ass, p. 283. In a note to p. 275 of this work, the translator describes (with a citation of his authorities) "the breathing resemblances of the gods used in the Mysteries, statues fabricated by the telesta, so as to be illuminated and to appear animated." 51 Aglaophamus, lib. i. sect. 7. 52 Discourse to the Lit. and Sci. Soc. of Java, 1815, pub. in Valpy's Pamphleteer, No. 15. 53 Lib. ii. cap. ix. 54 Socrates, Ecc. Inst., lib. iii. cap. 2. Greeks would consider life insupportable if they were forbidden to celebrate those most sacred Mysteries which bind together the human race."55 Upon the whole, we cannot fail to see that the Mysteries must have exerted a most extensive and profound influence alike in fostering the good hopes of human nature touching a life to come, and in giving credit and diffusion to the popular fables of the poets concerning the details of the future state. Much of that belief which seems to us so absurd we can easily suppose they sincerely embraced, when we recollect what they thought they had seen under supernatural auspices in their initiations. In the Greek and Roman faith there was gradually developed in connection chiefly with the Mysteries, as we believe an aristocratic doctrine which allotted to a select class of souls an abode in the sky as their distinguished destination after death, while the common multitude were still sentenced to the shadow region below the grave. As Virgil writes, "The descent to Avernus is easy. The gate of dark Dis is open day and night. But to rise into the upper world is most arduous. Only the few heroes whom favoring Jove loves or shining virtue exalts thither can effect it." 56 Numerous scattered, significant traces of a belief in this change of the destination of some souls from the pit of Hades to the hall of heaven are to be found in the classic authors. Virgil, celebrating the death of some person under the fictitious name of Daphnis, exclaims, "Robed in white, he admires the strange court of heaven, and sees the clouds and the stars beneath his feet. He is a god now." 57 Porphyry ascribes to Pythagoras the declaration that the souls of departed men are gathered in the zodiac.58 Plato earnestly describes a region of brightness and unfading realities above this lower world, among the stars, where the gods live, and whither, he says, the virtuous and wise may ascend, while the corrupt and ignorant must sink into the Tartarean realm.59 A similar conception of the attainableness of heaven seems to be suggested in the old popular myths, first, of Hercules coming back in triumph from his visit to Pluto's seat, and, on dying, rising to the assembly of immortals and taking his equal place among them; secondly, of Dionysus going into the under world, rescuing his mother, the hapless Semele, and soaring with her to heaven, where she henceforth resides, a peeress of the eldest goddesses. Cicero expresses the same thought when he affirms that "a life of justice and piety is the path to heaven, where patriots, exemplary souls, released from their bodies, enjoy endless happiness amidst the brilliant orbs of the galaxy." 60 The same author also speaks of certain philosophers who flourished before his time, "whose opinions encouraged the belief that souls departing from bodies would arrive at heaven as their proper dwelling place." 61 He afterwards stigmatizes the notion that the life succeeding death is subterranean as an error,62 and in his own name addresses his auditor thus: "I see you gazing upward and wishing to migrate into heaven." 63 It was the common belief of the Romans for ages that Romulus was taken up into heaven, where he would remain forever, claiming Divine honors.64 The Emperor Julian says, in his Letter on the 55 Essay on Mysteries, by M. Ouvaroff, Eng. trans. by J. D. Price, p. 55. 56 Aneid, lib. vi. 11. 125-130. 57 Ecl. v. 11. 57, 58, 64. 58 De Antro Nympharum. 59 Phado sects. 136-138. 60 Soma. Scipionis. 61 Tusc. Quast., lib. i. cap. xi. 62 Ibid. cap. xvi. 63 Ibid. cap. xxxiv. 64 Ennius, e. g., sings, "Romulus in coelo cum diis agit avum" Duties of a Priest, "God will raise from darkness and Tartarus the souls of all of us who worship him sincerely: to the pious, instead of Tartarus he promises Olympus." "It is lawful," writes Plato, "only for the true lover of wisdom to pass into the rank of gods." 65 The privilege here confined to philosophers we believe was promised to the initiates in the Mysteries, as the special prerogative secured to them by their initiation. "To pass into the rank of the gods" is a phrase which, as here employed, means to ascend into heaven and have a seat with the immortals, instead of being banished, with the souls of common mortals, to the under world. In early times the Greek worship was most earnestly directed to that set of deities who resided at the gloomy centre of the earth, and who were called the chthonian gods.66 The hope of immortality first sprung up and was nourished in connection with this worship. But in the progress of time and culture the supernal circle of divinities who kept state on bright Olympus acquired a greater share of attention, and at last received a degree of worship far surpassing that paid to their swarthy compeers below. The adoration of these bright beings, with a growing trust in their benignity, the fables of the poets telling how they had sometimes elevated human favorites to their presence, for instance, receiving a Ganymede to the joys of their sublime society, the encouraging thoughts of the more religious and cheerful of the philosophers, these facts, together with a natural shrinking from the dismal gloom of the life of shades around the Styx, and a native longing for admission to the serene pleasures of the unfading life led by the radiant lords of heaven, in conjunction, perhaps, with still other causes, effected an improvement of the old faith, altering and brightening it, little by little, until the hope came in many quarters to be entertained that the faithful soul would after death rise into the assemblage and splendor of the celestial gods. The Emperor Julian, at the close of his seventh Oration, represents the gods of Olympus addressing him in this strain: "Remember that your soul is immortal, and that if you follow us you will be a god and with us will behold our Father." Several learned writers have strenuously labored to prove that the ground secret of the Mysteries, the grand thing revealed in them, was the doctrine of apotheosis, shaking the established theology by unmasking the historic fact that all the gods were merely deified men. We believe the real significance of the various collective testimony, hints, and inferences by which these writers have been brought to such a conclusion is this; the genuine point of the Mysteries lay not in teaching that the gods were once men, but in the idea that men may become gods. To teach that Zeus, the universal Father, causing the creation to tremble at the motion of his brow, was formerly an obscure king of Crete, whose tomb was yet visible in that island, would have been utterly absurd. But to assert that the soul of man, the free, intelligent image of the gods, on leaving the body, would ascend to live eternally in the kingdom of its Divine prototypes, would have been a brilliant step of progress in harmony both with reason and the heart. Such was probably the fact. Observe the following citation from Plutarch: "There is no occasion against nature to send the bodies of good men to heaven; but we are to conclude that virtuous souls, by nature and the Divine justice, rise from men to heroes, from heroes to genii; and if, as in the Mysteries, they are 65 Phado, sect. lxxi. 66 Muller, Mist. Greek Lit., cap. ii. sect. 5; cap. xvi. sect. 2. purified, shaking off the remains of mortality and the power of the passions, they then attain the highest happiness, and ascend from genii to gods, not by the vote of the people, but by the just and established order of nature." 67 The reference in the last clause is to the decrees of the Senate whereby apotheosis was conferred on various persons, placing them among the gods. This ceremony has often been made to appear unnecessarily ridiculous, through a perversion of its actual meaning. When the ancients applied the term "god" to a human soul departed from the body, it was not used as the moderns prevailingly employ that word. It expressed a great deal less with them than with us. It merely meant to affirm similarity of essence, qualities, and residence, but by no means equal dignity and power of attributes between the one and the others. It meant that the soul had gone to the heavenly habitation of the gods and was thenceforth a participant in the heavenly life.68 Heraclitus was accustomed to say, "Men are mortal gods; gods are immortal men." Macrobius says, "The soul is not only immortal, but a god." 69 And Cicero declares, "The soul of man is a Divine thing, as Euripides dares to say, a god." 70 Milton uses language precisely parallel, speaking of those who are "unmindful of the crown true Virtue gives her servants, after their mortal change, among the enthroned gods on sainted seats." Theophilus, Bishop of Antioch in the second century, says that "to become a god means to ascend into heaven." 71 The Roman Catholic ceremony of beatification and canonization of saints, offering them incense and prayers thereafter, means exactly what was meant by the ancient apotheosis, namely, that while the multitudes of the dead abide below, in the intermediate state, these favored souls have been advanced into heaven. The papal functionaries borrowed this rite, with most of its details, from their immediate pagan predecessors, who themselves probably adopted it from the East, whence the Mysteries came. It is well known that the Brahmans and Buddhists believed, centuries before the Christian era, in the contrasted fate of good men after death to enjoy the successive heavens above the clouds, and of bad men to suffer the successive hells beneath the earth. A knowledge of this attractive Oriental doctrine may have united with the advance of their own speculations to win the partial acceptance obtained among the Greeks and Romans for the faith which broke the universal doom to Hades and opened heaven to their hopeful aspirations. In a tragedy of Euripides the following passage occurs, addressed to the bereaved Admetus: "Let not the tomb of thy wife be looked on as the mound of the ordinary dead. Some wayfarer, as he treads the sloping road, shall say, 'This woman once died for her husband; but now she is a saint in heaven.'" 72 When the meaning of the cheerful promises given to the initiates of a more favored fate in the future life than awaited others namely, as we think, that their spirits on leaving the body should scale Olympus instead of plunging to Tartarus had been concealed within the 67 Lives, Romulus, sect. xxviii. 68 See a valuable discussion of the ancient use of the terms theos and deus in note D vol. iii. of Norton's Genuineness of the Gospels. 69 Somn. Scip., lib. ii. cap. 12. 70 Tusc. Quest., lib. i. cap. 26. 71 We omit several other authorities, as the reader would probably deem any further evidence superfluous. 72 Alcestis, ll. 1015-1025, ed. Glasg. Mysteries for a long time, it at length broke into public view in the national apotheosis of ancient heroes, kings, and renowned worthies, the instances of which became so numerous that Cicero cries, "Is not nearly all heaven peopled with the human race?" 73 Over the heads of the devout heathen, as they gazed up through the clear night air, twinkled the beams of innumerable stars, each chosen to designate the cerulean seat where some soul was rejoicing with the gods in heaven over the glorious issue of the toils and sufferings in which he once painfully trod this earthly scene. Herodian, a Greek historian of some of the Roman emperors, has left a detailed account of the rite of apotheosis.74 An image of the person to be deified was made in wax, looking all sick and pale, laid in state on a lofty bed of ivory covered with cloth of gold, surrounded on one side by choirs of noble lords, on the other side by their ladies stripped of their jewels and clad in mourning, visited often for several days by a physician, who still reports his patient worse, and finally announces his decease. Then the Senators and haughtiest patricians bear the couch through the via sacra to the Forum. Bands of noble boys and of proud women ranged opposite each other chant hymns and lauds over the dead in solemn melody. The bier is next borne to the Campus Martius, where it is placed upon a high wooden altar, a large, thin structure with a tower like a lighthouse. Heaps of fragrant gums, herbs, fruits, and spices are poured out and piled upon it. Then the Roman knights, mounted on horseback, prance before it in beautiful bravery, wheeling to and fro in the dizzy measures of the Pyrrhic dance. Also, in a stately manner, purple clothed charioteers, wearing masks which picture forth the features of the most famous worthies of other days to the reverential recognition of the silent hosts assembled, ride around the form of their descendant. Suddenly a torch is set to the pile, and it is wrapped in flames. From the turret, amidst the aromatic fumes, an eagle is let loose. Phoenix like symbol of the departed soul, he soars into the sky, and the seven hilled city throbs with pride, reverberating the shouts of her people. Thus into the residence of the gods "Sic itur ad astra" was borne the divinely favored mortal; "And thus we see how man's prophetic creeds Made gods of men when godlike were their deeds." For it was only in times of degradation and by a violent perversion that the honor was allowed to the unworthy; and even in such cases it was usually nullified as soon as the people recovered their senses and their freedom. There is extant among the works of Seneca a little treatise called Apocolocuntosis, that is, pumpkinification, or the metamorphosis into a gourd, a sharp satire levelled against the apotheosis of the Emperor Claudius. The deification of mortals among the ancients has long been laughed at. When the great Macedonian monarch applied for a decree for his apotheosis while he was yet alive, the Lacedemonian Senate, with bitter sarcasm, voted, "If Alexander desires to be a god, let him be a god." The doctrine is often referred to among us in terms of mockery. But this is principally because it is not understood. It simply signifies the ascent of the soul after death into the Olympian halls instead of descending into the Acheronian gulfs. And whether we 73 Tusc. Quast., lib. i. cap. 12. 74 Lib. iv. consider the symbolic justice and beauty of the conception as a poetic image applied to the deathless heroes of humanity ensphered above us forever in historic fame and natural worship, or regard its comparative probability as the literal location of the residence of departed spirits, it must recommend itself to us as a decided improvement on the ideas previously prevalent, and as a sort of anticipation, in part, of that bright faith in a heavenly home for faithfuls souls, afterwards established in the world by Him of whom it was written, "No man hath ascended up to heaven but he that came down from heaven, even the Son of Man, who is now in heaven." Indeed, so forcible and close is the correspondence between the course of the aspirant in his initiation dramatically dying, descending into Hades, rising again to life, and ascending into heaven with the apostolic presentation of the redemptive career of Christ, our great Forerunner, that some writers Nork, for instance have suggested that the latter was but the exoteric publication to all the world of what in the former was esoterically taught to the initiates alone. There was a striking naturalness, a profound propriety, in the obscurities of secrecy and awe with which the ancient Mysteries shrouded from a rash curiosity their instructions concerning the future life and only unfolded them by careful degrees to the prepared candidate. It is so with the reality itself in the nature of things. It is the great mystery of mysteries, darkly hinted in types, faintly gleaming in analogies, softly whispered in hopes, passionately asked in desires, patiently confirmed in arguments, suddenly blazed and thundered in revelation. Man from the very beginning of his race on earth has been thickly encompassed by mysteries, hung around by the muffling curtains of ignorance and superstition. Through one after another of these he has forced his way and gazed on their successive secrets laid bare. Once the Ocean was an alluring and terrible mystery, weltering before him with its endless wash of waves, into which the weary sun, in the west, plunged at evening, and out of which, in the east, it bounded refreshed in the morning. But the daring prows of his ships, guided by pioneering thought and skill, passed its islands and touched its ultimate shores. Once the Polar Circle was a frightful and frozen mystery, enthroned on mountains of eternal ice and wearing upon its snowy brow the flaming crown of the aurora borealis. But his hardy navigators, inspired by enterprise and philanthropy, armed with science, and supplied by art, have driven the awful phantom back, league by league, until but a small expanse of its wonders remains untracked by his steps. Once the crowded Sky was a boundless mystery, a maze of motions, a field where ghastly comets played their antics and shook down terrors on the nations. But the theories of his reason, based on the gigantic grasp of his calculus and aided by the instruments of his invention, have solved perplexity after perplexity, blended discords into harmony, and shown to his delighted vision the calm perfection of the stellar system. So, too, in the moral world he has lifted the shrouds from many a dark problem, and extended the empire of light and love far out over the ancient realm of darkness and terror. But the secret of Death, the mystery of the Future, remains yet, as of old, unfathomed and inscrutable to his inquiries. Still, as of old, he kneels before that unlifted veil and beseeches the oracles for a response to faith. The ancient Mysteries in their principal ceremony but copied the ordination and followed the overawing spirit of Nature herself. The religious reserve and awe about the entrance into the adytum of their traditions were like those about the entrance into the invisible scenes beyond the veils of time and mortality. Their initiation was but a miniature symbol of the great initiation through which, and that upon impartial terms, every mortal, from King Solomon to the idiot pauper, must sooner or later pass to immortality. When a fit applicant, after the preliminary probation, kneels with fainting sense and pallid brow before the veil of the unutterable Unknown, and the last pulsations of his heart tap at the door of eternity, and he reverentially asks admission to partake in the secrets shrouded from profane vision, the infinite Hierophant directs the call to be answered by Death, the speechless and solemn steward of the celestial Mysteries. He comes, pushes the curtain aside, leads the awe struck initiate in, takes the blinding bandage of the body from his soul; and straightway the trembling neophyte receives light in the midst of that innumerable Fraternity of Immortals over whom the Supreme Author of the Universe presides. CHAPTER II. METEMPSYCHOSIS; OR, TRANSMIGRATION OF SOULS. NO other doctrine has exerted so extensive, controlling, and permanent an influence upon mankind as that of the metempsychosis, the notion that when the soul leaves the body it is born anew in another body, its rank, character, circumstances, and experience in each successive existence depending on its qualities, deeds, and attainments in its preceding lives. Such a theory, well matured, bore unresisted sway through the great Eastern world, long before Moses slept in his little ark of bulrushes on the shore of the Egyptian river; Alexander the Great gazed with amazement on the self immolation by fire to which it inspired the Gymnosophists; Casar found its tenets propagated among the Gauls beyond the Rubicon; and at this hour it reigns despotic, as the learned and travelled Professor of Sanscrit at Oxford tells us, "without any sign of decrepitude or decay, over the Burman, Chinese, Tartar, Tibetan, and Indian nations, including at least six hundred and fifty millions of mankind."1 There is abundant evidence to prove that this scheme of thought prevailed at a very early period among the Egyptians, all classes and sects of the Hindus, the Persian disciples of the Magi, and the Druids, and, in a later age, among the Greeks and Romans as represented by Musaus, Pythagoras, Plato, Plotinus, Macrobius, Ovid, and many others. It was generally adopted by the Jews from the time of the Babylonian captivity. Traces of it have been discovered among the ancient Scythians, the African tribes, some of the Pacific Islanders, and various aboriginal nations both of North and of South America. Charlevoix says some tribes of Canadian Indians believed in a transmigration of souls; but, with a curious mixture of fancy and reflection, they limited it to the souls of little children, who, being balked of this life in its beginning, they thought would try it again. Their bodies, accordingly, were buried at the sides of roads, that their spirits might pass into pregnant women travelling by. A belief in the metempsychosis limited in the same way to the souls of children also prevailed among the Mexicans.2 The Maricopas, by the Gila, believe when they die they shall transmigrate into birds, beasts, and reptiles, and shall return to the banks of the Colorado, whence they were driven by the Yumas. They will live there in caves and woods, as wolves, rats, and snakes; so will their enemies the Yumas; and they will fight together.3 On the western border of the United States, only three or four years ago, two Indians having been sentenced to be hung for murder, the chiefs of their tribe came in and begged that they might be shot or burned instead, as they looked upon hanging with the utmost horror, believing that the spirit of a person who is thus strangled to death goes into the next world in a foul manner, and that it assumes a beastly form. The Sandwich Islanders sometimes threw their dead into the sea to be devoured by sharks, supposing their souls would animate these monsters and cause them 1 Wilson, Two Lectures on the Religious Opinions of the Hindus, p. 64. 2 Kingsborough, Antiquities of Mexico, vol. viii. p. 220. 3 Bartlett, Personal Narrative of Explorations in Texas, New Mexico, &c., ch. xxx. to spare the living whom accident should throw within their reach.4 Similar superstitions, but more elaborately developed, are rife among many tribes of African negroes.5 It was inculcated in the early Christian centuries by the Gnostics and the Manichaans; also by Origen and several other influential Fathers. In the Middle Ages the sect of the Cathari, the Bogomiles, the famous scholastics Scotus Erigena and Bonaventura, as well as numerous less distinguished authors, advocated it. And in modern times it has been earnestly received by Lessing and Fourier, and is not without its open defenders to day, as we can attest from our own knowledge, even in the prosaic and enlightened circles of European and American society. There have been two methods of explaining the origin of the dogma of transmigration. First, it has been regarded as a retribution, the sequel to sin in a pre existent state: "All that flesh doth cover, Souls of source sublime, Are but slaves sold over To the Master Time To work out their ransom For the ancient crime." With the ancient Egyptians the doctrine was developed in connection with the conception of a revolt and battle among the gods in some dim and disastrous epoch of the past eternity, when the defeated deities were thrust out of heaven and shut up in fleshly prison bodies. So man is a fallen spirit, heaven his fatherland, this life a penance, sometimes necessarily repeated in order to be effectual.6 The pre existence of the soul, whether taught by Pythagoras, sung by Empedocles, dreamed by Fludd, or contended for by Beecher, is the principal foundation of the belief in the metempsychosis. But, secondly, the transmigration of souls has been considered as the means of their progressive ascent. The soul begins its conscious course at the bottom of the scale of being, and, gradually rising through birth after birth, climbs along a discriminated series of improvements in endless aspiration. Here the scientific adaptation and moral intent are thought to lead only upwards, insect travelling to man, man soaring to God; but by sin the natural order and working of means are inverted, and the series of births lead downward, until expiation and merit restore the primal adjustment and direction. The idea of a metempsychosis, or soul wandering, as the Germans call it, has been broached in various forms widely differing in the extent of their application. Among the Jews the writings of Philo, the Talmud, and other documents, are full of it. They seem, for the most part, to have confined the mortal residence of souls to human bodies. They say that God created all souls on the first day, the only day in which he made aught out of nothing; and they imply, in their doctrine of the revolution of souls, that these are born over and over, and will continue wandering thus until the Messiah comes and the resurrection occurs. The 4 Jarves, Hist. Sandwich Islands, p. 82. 5 Wilson, Western Africa, p. 210. 6 Dr. Roth, Agyptische Glaubenslehre. Rabbins distinguish two kinds of metempsychosis; namely, "Gilgul," which is a series of single transmigrations, each lasting till death; and "Ibbur," which is where one soul occupies several bodies, changing its residence at pleasure, or where several souls occupy one body.7 The latter kind is illustrated by examples of demoniacal possession in the New Testament. The demons were supposed to be the souls of deceased wicked men. Sometimes they are represented as solitary and flitting from one victim to another; sometimes they swarm together in the same person, as seven were at once cast out of Mary Magdalene. More frequently, however, the range of the soul's travels in its repeated births has been so extended as to include all animal bodies, beasts, birds, fishes, reptiles, insects. In this extent the doctrine was held by the Pythagoreans and Platonists, and in fact by a majority of its believers. Shakspeare's wit is not without historical warrant when he makes the clown say to Malvolio, "Thou shalt fear to kill a woodcock, lest thou dispossess the soul of thy grandam." Many the Manichaans, for instance taught that human souls transmigrated not only through the lowest animal bodies but even through all forms of vegetable life. Souls inhabit ears of corn, figs, shrubs. "Whoso plucks the fruit or the leaves from trees, or pulls up plants or herbs, is guilty of homicide," say they; "for in each case he expels a soul from its body." 8 And some have even gone so far as to believe that the soul, by a course of ignorance, cruelty, and uncleanness pursued through many lives, will at length arrive at an inanimate body, and be doomed to exist for unutterable ages as a stone or as a particle of dust. The adherents of this hypothesis regard the whole world as a deposition of materialized souls. At every step they tread on hosts of degraded souls, destined yet, though now by sin sunk thus low, to find their way back as redeemed and blessed spirits to the bosom of the Godhead. Upon the whole, the metempsychosis may be understood, as to its inmost meaning and its final issue, to be either a Development, a Revolution, or a Retribution, a Divine system of development eternally leading creatures in a graduated ascension from the base towards the apex of the creation, a perpetual cycle in the order of nature fixedly recurring by the necessities of a physical fate unalterable, unavoidable, eternal, a scheme of punishment and reward exactly fitted to the exigencies of every case, presided over by a moral Nemesis, and issuing at last in the emancipation of every purified soul into infinite bliss, when, by the upward gravitation of spirit, they shall all have been strained through the successively finer growing filters of the worlds, from the coarse grained foundation of matter to the lower shore of the Divine essence. In seeking to account for the extent and the tenacious grasp of this antique and stupendous belief, in looking about for the various suggestions or confirmations of such a dogma, we would call attention to several considerations, each claiming some degree of importance. First, among the earliest notions of a reflecting man is that of the separate existence of the soul after the dissolution of the body. He instinctively distinguishes the 7 Basnage, Hist. Jews, lib. iv. cap. xxx.: Schroder, Judenthum, buch ii. kap. iii. Eisenmenger, Entdecktes Judenthum. th. ii. kap. i. 8 Augustine, De Morlb. Manicha., lib. ii. cap. xvii.: De Hares.. cap. xlvi.: Contra Faustum, lib. xvi. cap. xxviii. thinking substance he is from the material vestment he wears. Conscious of an unchanged personal identity beneath the changes and decays everywhere visible around him, he naturally imagines that "As billows on the undulating main, That swelling fall and falling swell again, So on the tide of time inconstant roll The dying body and the deathless soul." To one thus meditating, and desiring, as he surely would, to perceive or devise some explanation of the soul's posthumous fortunes, the idea could hardly fail to occur that the destiny of the soul might be to undergo a renewed birth, or a series of births in new bodies. Such a conception, appearing in a rude state of culture, before the lines between science, religion, and poetry had been sharply drawn, recommending itself alike by its simplicity and by its adaptedness to gratify curiosity and speculation in the formation of a thousand quaint and engaging hypotheses, would seem plausible, would be highly attractive, would very easily secure acceptance as a true doctrine. Secondly, the strange resemblances and sympathies between men and animals would often powerfully suggest to a contemplative observer the doctrine of the transmigration of souls.9 Looking over those volumes of singular caricatures wherein certain artists have made all the most distinctive physiognomies of men and beasts mutually to approximate and mingle, one cannot avoid the fancy that the bodies of brutes are the masks of degraded men. Notice an ox reclining in the shade of a tree, patiently ruminating as if sadly conscious of many things and helplessly bound in some obscure penance, a mute world of dreamy experiences, a sombre mystery: how easy to imagine him an enchanted and transformed man! See how certain animals are allied in their prominent traits to humanity, the stricken deer, weeping big, piteous tears, the fawning affection and noble fidelity of the dog, the architectural skill of the beaver, the wise aspect of the owl, the sweet plaint of the nightingale, the shrieks of some fierce beasts, and the howls of others startlingly like the cries of children and the moans of pain, the sparkling orbs and tortuous stealthiness of the snake; and the hints at metempsychosis are obvious. Standing face to face with a tiger, an anaconda, a wild cat, a monkey, a gazelle, a parrot, a dove, we alternately shudder with horror and yearn with sympathy, now expecting to see the latent devils throw off their disguise and start forth in their own demoniac figures, now waiting for the metamorphosing charm to be reversed, and for the enchanted children of humanity to stand erect, restored to their former shapes. Pervading all the grades and forms of distinct animal life there seems to be a rudimentary unity. The fundamental elements and primordial germs of consciousness, intellect, will, passion, appear the same, and the different classes of being seem capable of passing into one another by improvement or deterioration. Spontaneously, then, might a primitive observer, unhampered by prejudices, think that the soul of man on leaving its present body would find or construct another according to its chief intrinsic qualities and 9 Scholz, Beweis, dass es eine Seelenwanderung bei den Thieren giebt. forces, whether those were a leonine magnanimity of courage, a vulpine subtlety of cunning, or a pavonine strut of vanity. The spirit, freed from its fallen cell, "Fills with fresh energy another form, And towers an elephant, or glides a worm, Swims as an eagle in the eye of noon, Or wails, a screech owl, to the deaf, cold moon, Or haunts the brakes where serpents hiss and glare, Or hums, a glittering insect, in the air." The hypothesis is equally forced on our thoughts by regarding the human attributes of some brutes and the brutal attributes of some men. Thus Gratiano, enraged at the obstinate malignity of Shylock, cries to the hyena hearted Jew, "Thou almost mak'st me waver in my faith, To hold opinion, with Pythagoras, That souls of animals infuse themselves Into the trunks of men: thy currish spirit Govern'd a wolf, who, hang'd for human slaughter, Even from the gallows did his fell soul fleet, And, whilst thou lay'st in thine unhallow'd dam, Infused itself in thee; for thy desires Are wolfish, bloody, starved, and ravenous." Thirdly, there is a figurative metempsychosis, which may sometimes the history of mythology abounds in examples of the same sort of thing have been turned from an abstract metaphor into a concrete belief, or from a fanciful supposition have hardened into a received fact. There is a poetic animation of objects whereby the imaginative person puts himself into other persons, into trees, clouds, whirlwinds, or what not, and works them for the time in ideal realization. The same result is put in speech sometimes as humorous play: for example, a celebrated English author says, "Nature meant me for a salamander, and that is the reason I have always been discontented as a man: I shall be a salamander in the next world!" Such imagery stated to a mind of a literal order solidifies into a meaning of prosaic fact. It is a common mode of speech to say of an enthusiastic disciple that the spirit of his master possesses him. A receptive student enters into the soul of Plato, or is full of Goethe. We say that Apelles lived again in Titian. Augustine reappeared in Calvin, and Pelagius in Arminius, to fight over the old battle of election and freedom. Luther rose in Ronge. Take these figures literally, construct what they imply into a dogma, and the product is the transmigration of souls. The result thus arrived at finds effective support in the striking physical resemblance, spiritual likeness, and similarity of mission frequently seen between persons in one age and those in a former age. Columbus was the modern Jason sailing after the Golden Fleece of a New World. Glancing along the portrait gallery of some ancient family, one is sometimes startled to observe a face, extinct for several generations, suddenly confronting him again with all its features in some distant descendant. A peculiarity of conformation, a remarkable trait of character, suppressed for a century, all at once starts into vivid prominence in a remote branch of the lineage, and men say, pointing back to the ancestor, "He has revived once more." Seeing Elisha do the same things that his departed master had done before him, the people exclaimed, "The spirit of Elijah is upon him." Beholding in John the Baptist one going before him in the spirit of that expected prophet, Jesus said, "If ye are able to receive it, this is he." Some of the later Rabbins assert many entertaining things concerning the repeated births of the most distinguished personages in their national history. Abel was born again in Seth; Cain, in that Egyptian whom Moses slew; Abiram, in Ahithophel; and Adam, having already reappeared once in David, will live again in the Messiah. The performance by an eminent man of some great labor which had been done in an earlier age in like manner by a kindred spirit evokes in the imagination an apparition of the return of the dead to repeat his old work. Fourthly, there are certain familiar psychological experiences which serve to suggest and to support the theory of transmigration, and which are themselves in return explained by such a surmise. Thinking upon some unwonted subject, often a dim impression arises in the mind, fastens upon us, and we cannot help feeling, that somewhere, long ago, we have had these reflections before. Learning a fact, meeting a face, for the first time, we are puzzled with an obscure assurance that it is not the first time. Travelling in foreign lands, we are ever and anon haunted by a sense of familiarity with the views, urging us to conclude that surely we have more than once trodden those fields and gazed on those scenes; and from hoary mountain, trickling rill, and vesper bell, meanwhile, mystic tones of strange memorial music seem to sigh, in remembered accents, through the soul's plaintive echoing halls, "'Twas auld lang syne, my dear, 'Twas auld lang syne." Plato's doctrine of reminiscence here finds its basis. We have lived before, perchance many times, and through the clouds of sense and imagination now and then float the veiled visions of things that were. Efforts of thought reveal the half effaced inscriptions and pictures on the tablets of memory. Snatches of dialogues once held are recalled, faint recollections of old friendships return, and fragments of landscapes beheld and deeds performed long ago pass in weird procession before the mind's half opened eye. We know a professional gentleman of unimpeachable veracity, of distinguished talents and attainments, who is a firm believer in his own existence on the earth previously to his present life. He testifies that on innumerable occasions he has experienced remembrances of events and recognitions of places, accompanied by a flash of irresistible conviction that he had known them in a former state. Nearly every one has felt instances of this, more or less numerous and vivid. The doctrine at which such things hint that "Not in entire forgetfulness, And not in utter nakedness," but trailing vague traces and enigmas from a bygone history, "do we come" yields the secret of many a mood and dream, the spell of inexplicable hours, the key and clew to baffling labyrinths of mystery. The belief in the doctrine of the metempsychosis, among a fanciful people and in an unscientific age, need be no wonder to any cultivated man acquainted with the marvels of experience and aware that every one may say, "Full oft my feelings make me start, Like footprints on some desert shore, As if the chambers of my heart Had heard their shadowy step before." Fifthly, the theory of the transmigration of souls is marvellously adapted to explain the seeming chaos of moral inequality, injustice, and manifold evil presented in the world of human life. No other conceivable view so admirably accounts for the heterogeneousness of our present existence, refutes the charge of a groundless favoritism urged against Providence, and completely justifies the ways of God to man. The loss of remembrance between the states is no valid objection to the theory; because such a loss is the necessary condition of a fresh and fair probation. Besides, there is a parallel fact of deep significance in our unquestionable experience; "For is not our first year forgot? The haunts of memory echo not." Once admit the theory to be true, and all difficulties in regard to moral justice vanish. If a man be born blind, deaf, a cripple, a slave, an idiot, it is because in a previous life he abused his privileges and heaped on his soul a load of guilt which he is now expiating. If a sudden calamity overwhelm a good man with unmerited ruin and anguish, it is the penalty of some crime committed in a state of responsible being beyond the confines of his present memory. Does a surprising piece of good fortune accrue to any one, splendid riches, a commanding position, a peerless friendship? It is the reward of virtuous deeds done in an earlier life. Every flower blighted or diseased, every shrub gnarled, awry, and blasted, every brute ugly and maimed, every man deformed, wretched, or despised, is reaping in these hard conditions of being, as contrasted with the fate of the favored and perfect specimens of the kind, the fruit of sin in a foregone existence. When the Hindu looks on a man beautiful, learned, noble, fortunate, and happy, he exclaims, "How wise and good must this man have been in his former lives!" In his philosophy, or religion, the proof of the necessary consequences of virtue and vice is deduced from the metempsychosis, every particular of the outward man being a result of some corresponding quality of his soul, and every event of his experience depending as effect on his previous merit as cause.10 Thus the principal physical and moral phenomena of life are strikingly explained; and, as we gaze around the world, its material conditions and spiritual elements combine in one vast scheme of unrivalled order, and the total experience of humanity forms a magnificent picture of perfect poetic justice. We may easily account for the rise and spread of a theory whose sole difficulty is a lack of positive proof, but whose applications are so consistent and fascinating alike to imagination and to conscience. Hierocles said, and distinguished philosophers both before and since have said, "Without the doctrine of metempsychosis it is not possible to justify the ways of Providence." 10 Colebrooke, Essays, vol. i. p. 286. Finally, this doctrine, having been suggested by the various foregoing considerations, and having been developed into a practical system of conceptions and motives by certain leading thinkers, was adopted by the principal philosophers and priesthoods of antiquity, and taught to the common people with authority. The popular beliefs of four thousand years ago depended for their prevalence, not so much on cogent arguments or intrinsic probability, as upon the sanctions thrown around them by renowned teachers, priests, and mystagogues. Now, the doctrine of the transmigration of souls was inculcated by the ancient teachers, not as a mere hypothesis resting on loose surmises, but as an unquestionable fact supported by the experimental knowledge of many individuals and by infallible revelation from God. The sacred books of the Hindus abound in detailed histories of transmigrations. Kapila is said to have written out the Vedas from his remembrance of them in a former state of being. The Vishnu Purana gives some very entertaining examples of the retention of memory through several successive lives.11 Pythagoras pretended to recollect his adventures in previous lives; and on one occasion, as we read in Ovid, going into the temple of Juno, he recognised the shield he had worn as Euphorbus at the siege of Troy. Diogenes Laertius also relates of him, that one day meeting a man who was cruelly beating a dog, the Samian sage instantly detected in the piteous howls of the poor beast the cries of a dear friend of his long since deceased, and earnestly and successfully interceded for his rescue. In the life of Apollonius of Tyana by Philostratus, numerous extraordinary instances are told of his recognitions of persons he had known in preceding lives. Such examples as these exactly met the weakest point in the metempsychosis theory, and must have had vast influence in fostering the common faith. Plotinus said, "Body is the true river of Lethe; for souls plunged in it forget all." Pierre Leroux, an enthusiastic living defender of the idea of repeated births, attempts to reply to the objection drawn from the absence of memory; but his reply is an appeal rather to authority and fancy than to reason, and leaves the doubts unsolved.12 His supposition is that in each spirit life we remember all the bygone lives, both spiritual and earthly, but in each earth life we forget all that has gone before; just as, here, every night we lose in sleep all memory of the past, but recover it each day again as we awake. Throughout the East this general doctrine is no mere superstition of the masses of ignorant people: it is the main principle of all Hindu metaphysics, the foundation of all their philosophy, and inwrought with the intellectual texture of their inspired books. It is upheld by the venerable authority of ages, by an intense general conviction of it, and by multitudes of subtle conceits and apparent arguments. It was also impressed upon the initiates in the old Mysteries, by being there dramatically shadowed forth through masks, and quaint symbolic ceremonies enacted at the time of initiation.13 This, then, is what we must say of the ancient and widely spread doctrine of transmigration. As a suggestion or theory naturally arising from empirical observation and confirmed by a variety of phenomena, it is plausible, attractive, and, in some stages of 11 Professor Wilson's translation, p. 343. 12 De l'Humanite, livre v. chap. xlii. 13 Porphyry, De Abstinentis, lib. iv. sect. 16. Davies, Rites of the Druids. knowledge, not only easy to be believed, but hard to be resisted. As an ethical scheme clearing up on principles of poetic justice the most perplexed and awful problems in the world, it throws streams of light through the abysses of evil, gives dramatic solution to many a puzzle, and, abstractly considered, charms the understanding and the conscience. As a philosophical dogma answering to some strange, vague passages in human nature and experience, it echoes with dreamy sweetness through the deep mystic chambers of our being. As the undisputed creed which has inspired and spell bound hundreds of millions of our race for perhaps over a hundred and fifty generations, it commands deference and deserves study. But, viewing it as a thesis in the light of to day, challenging intelligent scrutiny and sober belief, we scarcely need to say that, based on shadows and on arbitrary interpretations of superficial appearances, built of reveries and occult experiences, fortified by unreliable inferences, destitute of any substantial evidence, it is unable to face the severity of science. A real investigation of its validity by the modern methods dissipates it as the sun scatters fog. First, the mutual correspondences between men and animals are explained by the fact that they are all living beings are the products of the same God and the same nature, and built according to one plan. They thus partake, in different degrees and on different planes, of many of the same elements and characteristics. Lucretius, with his usual mixture of acuteness and sophistry, objects to the doctrine that, if it were true, when the soul of a lion passed into the body of a stag, or the soul of a man into the body of a horse, we should see a stag with the courage of a lion, a horse with the intelligence of a man. But of course the manifestations of soul depend on the organs of manifestation. Secondly, the singular psychological experiences referred to are explicable so far as we can expect with our present limited data and powers to solve the dense mysteries of the soul by various considerations not involving the doctrine in question. Herder has shown this with no little acumen in three "Dialogues on the Metempsychosis," beautifully translated by the Rev. Dr. Hedge in his "Prose Writers of Germany." The sense of pre existence the confused idea that these occurrences have thus happened to us before which is so often and strongly felt, is explicable partly by the supposition of some sudden and obscure mixture of associations, some discordant stroke on the keys of recollection, jumbling together echoes of bygone scenes, snatches of unremembered dreams, and other hints and colors in a weird and uncommanded manner. The phenomenon is accounted for still more decisively by Dr. Wigand's theory of the "Duality of the Mind." The mental organs are double, one on each side of the brain. They usually act with perfect simultaneity. When one gets a slight start of the other, as the thought reaches the slow side a bewildered sense of a previous apprehension of it arises in the soul. And then, the fact that the supposition of a great system of adjusting transmigrations justifies the ways of Providence is no proof that the supposition is a true one. The difficulty is, that there is no evidence of the objective truth of the assumption, however well the theory applies; and the justice and goodness of God may as well be defended on the ground of a single life here and a discriminating retribution hereafter, as on the ground of an unlimited series of earthly births. The doctrine evidently possesses two points of moral truth and power, and, if not tenable as strict science, is yet instructive as symbolic poetry. First, it embodies, in concrete shapes the most vivid and unmistakable, the fact that beastly and demoniac qualities of character lead men down towards the brutes and fiends. Rage makes man a tiger; low cunning, a fox; coarseness and ferocity, a bear; selfish envy and malice, a devil. On the contrary, the attainment of better degrees of intellectual and ethical qualities elevates man towards the angelic and the Divine. There are three kinds of lives, corresponding to the three kinds of metempsychosis, ascending, circular, descending: the aspiring life of progress in wisdom and goodness; the monotonous life of routine in mechanical habits and indifference; the deteriorating life of abandonment in ignorance and vice. Timaus the Locrian, and some other ancient Pythagoreans, gave the whole doctrine a purely symbolic meaning. Secondly, the theory of transmigrating souls typifies the truth that, however it may fare with persons now, however ill their fortunes may seem to accord with their deserts here, justice reigns irresistibly in the universe, and sooner or later every soul shall be strictly compensated for every tittle of its merits in good or evil. There is no escaping the chain of acts and consequences. This entire scheme of thought has always allured the Mystics to adopt it. In every age, from Indian Vyasa to Teutonic Boehme, we find them contending for it. Boehme held that all material existence was composed by King Satan out of the physical substance of his fallen followers. The conception of the metempsychosis is strikingly fitted for the purposes of humor, satire, and ethical hortation; and literature abounds with such applications of it. In Plutarch's account of what Thespesius saw when his soul was ravished away into hell for a time, we are told that he saw the soul of Nero dreadfully tortured, transfixed with iron nails. The workmen forged it into the form of a viper; when a voice was heard out of an exceeding light ordering it to be transfigured into a milder being; and they made it one of those creatures that sing and croak in the sides of ponds and marshes.14 When Rosalind finds the verses with which her enamored Orlando had hung the trees, she exclaimed, "I was never so berhymed since Pythagoras' time, that I was an Irish rat, which I can hardly remember." One of the earliest popular introductions of this Oriental figment to the English public was by Addison, whose Will Honeycomb tells an amusing story of his friend, Jack Freelove, how that, finding his mistress's pet monkey alone one day, he wrote an autobiography of his monkeyship's surprising adventures in the course of his many transmigrations. Leaving this precious document in the monkey's hands, his mistress found it on her return, and was vastly bewildered by its pathetic and laughable contents.15 The fifth number of the "Adventurer" gives a very entertaining account of the "Transmigrations of a Flea." There is also a poem on this subject by Dr. Donne, full of strength and wit. It traces a soul through ten or twelve births, giving the salient points of its history in each. First, the soul animates the apple our hapless mother Eve ate, bringing "death into the world and all our woe." Then it appeared 14 Sera Numinis Vindicta: near the close. 15 Spectator, No. 343. successively as a mandrake, a cock, a herring, a whale, "Who spouted rivers up as if he meant o join our seas with seas above the firmament." Next, as a mouse, it crept up an elephant's sinewy proboscis to the soul's bedchamber, the brain, and, gnawing the life cords there, died, crushed in the ruins of the gigantic beast. Afterwards it became a wolf, a dog, an ape, and finally a woman, where the quaint tale closes. Fielding is the author of a racy literary performance called "A Journey from this World to the Next." The Emperor Julian is depicted in it, recounting in Elysium the adventures he had passed through, living successively in the character of a slave, a Jew, a general, an heir, a carpenter, a beau, a monk, a fiddler, a wise man, a king, a fool, a beggar, a prince, a statesman, a soldier, a tailor, an alderman, a poet, a knight, a dancing master, and a bishop. Whoever would see how vividly, with what an honest and vigorous verisimilitude, the doctrine can be embodied, should read "The Modern Pythagorean," by Dr. Macnish. But perhaps the most humorous passage of this sort is the following description from a remarkable writer of the present day: "In the mean while all the shore rang with the trump of bull frogs, the sturdy spirits of ancient wine bibbers and wassailers, still unrepentant, trying to sing a catch in their Stygian lake; who would fain keep up the hilarious rules of their old festal tables, though their voices have waxed hoarse and solemnly grave, mocking at mirth, and the wine has lost its flavor. The most aldermanic, with his chin upon a heart leaf, which serves for a napkin to his drooling chaps, under this northern shore quaffs a deep draught of the once scorned water, and passes round the cup with the ejaculation tr r r oonk, tr r r oonk! and straightway comes over the water from some distant cove the same password repeated, where the next in seniority and girth has gulped down to his mark; and when this observance has made the circuit of the shores, then ejaculates the master of ceremonies, with satisfaction, tr r r conk! and each in his turn, down to the flabbiest paunched, repeats the same, that there be no mistake; and then the bowl goes round again and again, until the sun disperses the morning mist, and only the patriarch is not under the pond, but vainly bellowing troonk from time to time, and pausing for a reply." 16 The doctrine of the metempsychosis, which was the priest's threat against sin, was the poet's interpretation of life. The former gave by it a terrible emphasis to the moral law; the latter imparted by it an unequalled tenderness of interest to the contemplation of the world. To the believer in it in its fullest development, the mountains piled towering to the sky and the plains stretching into trackless distance were the conscious dust of souls; the ocean, heaving in tempest or sleeping in moonlight, was a sea of spirits, every drop once a man. Each animated form that caught his attention might be the dwelling of some ancestor, or of some once cherished companion of his own. Hence the Hindu's so sensitive kindness towards animals: 16 Thoreau, Walden, or Life in the Woods, p. 137. "Crush not the feeble, inoffensive worm: Thy sister's spirit wears that humble form. Why should thy cruel arrow smite yon bird? In him thy brother's plaintive song is beard. Let not thine anger on thy dog descend: That faithful animal was once thy friend." There is a strange grandeur, an affecting mystery, in the view of the creation from the stand point of the metempsychosis. It is an awful dream palace all aswarm with falling and climbing creatures clothed in ever shifting disguises. The races and changes of being constitute a boundless masquerade of souls, whose bodies are vizards and whose fortunes poetic retribution. The motive furnished by the doctrine to self denial and toil has a peerless sublimity. In our Western world, the hope of acquiring large possessions, or of attaining an exalted office, often stimulates men to heroic efforts of labor and endurance. What, then, should we not expect from the application to the imaginative minds of the Eastern world of a motive which, transcending all set limits, offers unheard of prizes, to be plucked in life after life, and at the end unveils, for the occupancy of the patient aspirant, the Throne of Immensity? No wonder that, under the propulsion of a motive so exhaustless, a motive not remote nor abstract, but concrete, and organized in indissoluble connection with the visible chain of eternal causes and effects, no wonder we see such tremendous exhibitions of superstition, voluntary sufferings, superhuman deeds. Here is the secret fountain of that irresistible force which enables the devotee to measure journeys of a thousand miles by prostrations of his body, to hold up his arm until it withers and remains immovably erect as a stick, or to swing himself by red hot hooks through his flesh. The poorest wretch of a soul that has wandered down to the lowest grade of animate existence can turn his resolute and longing gaze up the resplendent ranks of being, and, conscious of the god head's germ within, feel that, though now unspeakably sunken, he shall one day spurn every vile integument and vault into seats of heavenly dominion. Crawling as an almost invisible bug in a heap of carrion, he can still think within himself, holding fast to the law of righteousness and love, "This is the infinite ladder of redemption, over whose rounds of purity, penance, charity, and contemplation I may ascend, through births innumerable, till I reach a height of wisdom, power, and bliss that will cast into utter contempt the combined glory of countless millions of worlds, ay, till I sit enthroned above the topmost summit of the universe as omnipotent Buddha." 17 17 Those who wish to pursue the subject further will find the following references useful: Hardy, "Manual of Buddhism," ch. v. Upham, "History of Buddhism," ch. iii. Beausobre, "Histoire du Manicheisme," livre vi. ch. iv. Helmont, "De Revolution Animarum." Richter, "Das Christenthum und die Kitesten Religionen des Orients," sects. 54-65. Sinner, "Essai sur les Dogmes de la Metempsychose et du Purgatoire." Conz, "Schicksale der Seelenwanderungshypothese unter verschiedenen Volkern und in verschiedenen Zeiten." Dubois, "People of India," part iii. ch. vii. Werner, "Commentatio Psychologica contra Metempsychosin." CHAPTER III. RESURRECTION OF THE FLESH. A DOCTRINE widely prevalent asserts that, at the termination of this probationary epoch, Christ will appear with an army of angels in the clouds of heaven, descend, and set up his tribunal on the earth. The light of his advancing countenance will be the long waited Aurora of the Grave. All the souls of men will be summoned from their tarrying places, whether in heaven, or hell, or purgatory, or the sepulchre; the fleshly tabernacles they formerly inhabited will be re created, a strong necromancy making the rooty and grave floored earth give up its dust of ruined humanity, and moulding it to the identical shapes it formerly composed; each soul will enter its familiar old house in company with which its sins were once committed; the books will be opened and judgment will be passed; then the accepted will be removed to heaven, and the rejected to hell, both to remain clothed with those same material bodies forever, the former in celestial bliss, the latter in infernal torture. In the present dissertation we propose to exhibit the sources, trace the developments, explain the variations, and discuss the merits, of this doctrine. The first appearance of this notion of a bodily restoration which occurs in the history of opinions is among the ancient Hindus. With them it appears as a part of a vast conception, embracing the whole universe in an endless series of total growths, decays, and exact restorations. In the beginning the Supreme Being is one and alone. He thinks to himself, "I will become many." Straightway the multiform creation germinates forth, and all beings live. Then for an inconceivable period a length of time commensurate with the existence of Brahma, the Demiurgus the successive generations flourish and sink. At the end of this period all forms of matter, all creatures, sages, and gods, fall back into the Universal Source whence they arose. Again the Supreme Being is one and alone. After an interval the same causes produce the same effects, and all things recur exactly as they were before.1 We find this theory sung by some of the Oriental poets: "Every external form of things, and every object which disappear'd, Remains stored up in the storehouse of fate: When the system of the heavens returns to its former order, God, the All Just, will bring them forth from the veil of mystery." 2 The same general conception, in a modified form, was held by the Stoics of later Greece, who doubtless borrowed it from the East, and who carried it out in greater detail. "God is an artistic fire, out of which the cosmopoeia issues." This fire proceeds in a certain fixed course, in obedience to a fixed law, passing through certain intermediate gradations and established periods, until it ultimately returns into itself and closes with a universal conflagration. It is to this catastrophe that reference is made in the following passage of Epictetus: "Some say that when Zeus is left alone at the time of the conflagration, he is solitary, and bewails himself 1 Wilson, Lectures on the Hindus, pp. 53-56. 2 The Dabistan, vol. iii. p. 169. that he has no company."3 The Stoics supposed each succeeding formation to be perfectly like the preceding. Every particular that happens now has happened exactly so a thousand times before, and will happen a thousand times again. This view they connected with astronomical calculations, making the burning and re creating of the world coincide with the same position of the stars as that at which it previously occurred.4 This they called the restoration of all things. The idea of these enormous revolving identical epochs Day of Brahm, Cycle of the Stoics, or Great Year of Plato is a physical fatalism, effecting a universal resurrection of the past, by reproducing it over and over forever. Humboldt seems more than inclined to adopt the same thought. "In submitting," he says, "physical phenomena and historical events to the exercise of the reflective faculty, and in ascending to their causes by reasoning, we become more and more penetrated by that ancient belief, that the forces inherent in matter, and those regulating the moral world, exert their action under the presence of a primordial necessity and according to movements periodically renewed." The wise man of old said, "The thing that hath been, it is that which shall be; and that which is done is that which shall be done, and there is no new thing under the sun." The conception of the destinies of the universe as a circle returning forever into itself is an artifice on which the thinking mind early seizes, to evade the problem that is too mighty for its feeble powers. It concludes that the final aim of Nature is but the infinite perfecting of her material in infinite transformations ever repeating the same old series. We cannot comprehend and master satisfactorily the eternal duration of one visible order, the incessant rolling on of races and stars: "And doth creation's tide forever flow, Nor ebb with like destruction? World on world Are they forever heaping up, and still The mighty measure never, never full?" And so, when the contemplation of the staggering infinity threatens to crush the brain, we turn away and find relief in the view of a periodical revolution, wherein all comes to an end from time to time and takes a fresh start. It would be wiser for us simply to resign the problem as too great. For the conception to which we have recourse is evidently a mere conceit of imagination, without scientific basis or philosophical confirmation. The doctrine of a bodily resurrection, resting on a wholly different ground, again emerges upon our attention in the Zoroastrian faith of Persia. The good Ormuzd created men to be pure and happy and to pass to a heavenly immortality. The evil Ahriman insinuated his corruptions among them, broke their primal destiny, and brought death upon them, dooming their material frames to loathsome dissolution, their unclothed spirits to a painful abode in hell. Meanwhile, the war between the Light God and the Gloom Fiend rages fluctuatingly. But at last the Good One shall prevail, and the Bad One sink in discomfiture, and all evil deeds be neutralized, and the benignant arrangements decreed at first be restored. Then all 3 Epictetus, lib. iii. cap. 13. Sonntag, De Palingenesia Stoicorum. 4 Ritter's Hist. of An. Phil., lib. xi. cap. 4. souls shall be redeemed from hell and their bodies be rebuilt from their scattered atoms and clothed upon them again.5 This resurrection is not the consequence of any fixed laws or fate, nor is it an arbitrary miracle. It is simply the restoration by Ormuzd of the original intention which Ahriman had temporarily marred and defeated. This is the great bodily resurrection, as it is still understood and looked for by the Parsees. The whole system of views out of which it springs, and with which it is interwrought, is a fanciful mythology, based on gratuitous assumptions, or at most on a crude glance at mere appearances. The hypothesis that the creation is the scene of a drawn battle between two hostile beings, a Deity and a Devil, can face neither the scrutiny of science, nor the test of morals, nor the logic of reason; and it has long since been driven from the arena of earnest thought. On this theory it follows that death is a violent curse and discord, maliciously forced in afterwards to deform and spoil the beauty and melody of a perfect original creation. Now, as Bretschneider well says, "the belief that death is an evil, a punishment for sin, can arise only in a dualistic system." It is unreasonable to suppose that the Infinite God would deliberately lay a plan and allow it to be thwarted and ruined by a demon. And it is unscientific to imagine that death is an accident, or an after result foisted into the system of the world. Death that is, a succession of generations is surely an essential part of the very constitution of nature, plainly stamped on all those "medals of the creation" which bear the features of their respective ages and which are laid up in the archives of geological epochs. Successive growth and decay is a central part of God's original plan, as appears from the very structure of living bodies and the whole order of the globe. Death, therefore, which furthermore actually reigned on earth unknown ages before the existence of man, could not have been a fortuitous after clap of human sin. And so the foregoing theory of a general resurrection as the restoration of God's broken plan to its completeness falls to the ground. The Jews, in the course of their frequent and long continued intercourse with the Persians, did not fail to be much impressed with the vivid melodramatic outlines of the Zoroastrian doctrine of the resurrection. They finally adopted it themselves, and joined it, with such modifications as it naturally underwent from the union, with the great dogmas of their own faith. A few faint references to it are found in the Old Testament. Some explicit declarations and boasts of it are in the Apocrypha. In the Targums, the Talmud, and the associated sources, abundant statements of it in copious forms are preserved. The Jews rested their doctrine of the resurrection on the same general ground as the Persians did, from whom they borrowed it. Man was meant to be immortal, either on earth or in heaven; but Satan seduced him to sin, and thus wrested from him his privilege of immortality, made him die and descend into a dark nether realm which was to be filled with the disembodied souls of his descendants. The resurrection was to annul all this and restore men to their original footing. We need not labor any disproof of the truth or authority of this doctrine as the Pharisees held it, because, admitting that they had the record of a revelation from God, this doctrine was not a part of it. It is only to be found in their canonic scriptures by way of vague and hasty allusion, and is historically traceable to its derivation from the pagan oracles of Persia. 5 Frazer, History of Persia, chap. iv. Baur, Symbolik und Mythologice thl. ii. absch. ii. cap. ss. 394-404. Of course it is possible that the doctrine of the resurrection, as the Hebrews held it, was developed by themselves, from imaginative contemplations on the phenomena of burials and graves; spectres seen in dreams; conceptions of the dead as shadowy shapes in the under world; ideas of God as the deliverer of living men from the open gates of the under world when they experienced narrow escapes from destruction; vast and fanatical national hopes. Before advancing another step, it is necessary only to premise that some of the Jews appear to have expected that the souls on rising from the under world would be clothed with new, spiritualized, incorruptible bodies, others plainly expected that the identical bodies they formerly wore would be literally restored. Now, when Christianity, after the death of its Founder, arose and spread, it was in the guise of a new and progressive Jewish sect. Its apostles and its converts for the first hundred years were Christian Jews. Christianity ran its career through the apostolic age virtually as a more liberal Jewish sect. Most natural was it, then, that infant Christianity should retain all the salient dogmas of Judaism, except those of exclusive nationality and bigoted formalism in the throwing off of which the mission of Christianity partly consisted. Among these Jewish dogmas retained by early Christianity was that of the bodily resurrection. In the New Testament itself there are seeming references to this doctrine. We shall soon recur to these. The phrase "resurrection of the body" does not occur in the Scriptures. Neither is it found in any public creed whatever among Christians until the fourth century.6 But these admissions by no means prove that the doctrine was not believed from the earliest days of Christianity. The fact is, it was the same with this doctrine as with the doctrine of the descent of Christ into Hades: it was not for a long time called in question at all. It was not defined, discriminated, lifted up on the symbols of the Church, because that was not called for. As soon as the doctrine came into dispute, it was vehemently and all but unanimously affirmed, and found an emphatic place in every creed. Whenever the doctrine of a bodily resurrection has been denied, that denial has been instantly stigmatized as heresy and schism, even from the days of "Hymeneus and Philetas, who concerning the truth erred, saying that the resurrection was past already." The uniform orthodox doctrine of the Christian Church has always been that in the last day the identical fleshly bodies formerly inhabited by men shall be raised from the earth, sea, and air, and given to them again to be everlastingly assumed. The scattered exceptions to the believers in this doctrine have been few, and have ever been styled heretics by their contemporaries. Any one who will glance over the writings of the Fathers with reference to this subject will find the foregoing statements amply confirmed.7 Justin Martyr wrote a treatise on the resurrection, a fragment of which is still extant. Athenagoras has left us an extremely elaborate and able discussion of the whole doctrine, in a separate work. Tertullian is author of a famous book on the subject, entitled "Concerning the Resurrection of the Flesh," in which he says, "The teeth are providentially made eternal to serve as the seeds of the 6 Dr. Sykes, Inquiry when the Article of the Resurrection of the Body or Flesh was first introduced into the Public Creeds. 7 Mosheim, De Resurrectione Mortuorum. resurrection." Chrysostom has written fully upon it in two of his eloquent homilies. All these, in company indeed with the common body of their contemporaries, unequivocally teach a carnal resurrection with the grossest details. Augustine says, "Every man's body, howsoever dispersed here, shall be restored perfect in the resurrection. Every body shall be complete in quantity and quality. As many hairs as have been shaved off, or nails cut, shall not return in such enormous quantities to deform their original places; but neither shall they perish: they shall return into the body into that substance from which they grew." 8 As if that would not cause any deformity! 9 Some of the later Origenists held that the resurrection bodies would be in the shape of a ball, the mere heads of cherubs! 10 In the seventh century Mohammed flourished. His doctrinal system, it is well known, was drawn indiscriminately from many sources, and mixed with additions and colors of his own. Finding the dogma of a general bodily resurrection already prevailing among the Parsees, the Jews, and the Christians, and perceiving, too, how well adapted for purposes of vivid representation and practical effect it was, or perhaps believing it himself, the Arabian prophet ingrafted this article into the creed of his followers. It has ever been with them, and is still, a foremost and controlling article of faith, an article for the most part held in its literal sense, although there is a powerful sect which spiritualizes the whole conception, turning all its details into allegories and images. But this view is not the original nor the orthodox view. The subject of the resurrection was a prominent theme in the theology of the Middle Age. Only here and there a dissenting voice was raised against the doctrine in its strict physical form. The great body of the Scholastics stood stanchly by it. In defence and support of the Church thesis they brought all the quirks and quiddities of their subtle dialectics. As we take down their ponderous tomes from their neglected shelves, and turn over the dusty, faded old leaves, we find chapter after chapter in many a formidable folio occupied with grave discussions, carried on in acute logical terminology, of questions like these: "Will the resurrection be natural or miraculous?" "Will each one's hairs and nails all be restored to him in the resurrection?" "When bodies are raised, will each soul spontaneously know its own and enter it? or will the power of God distribute them as they belong?" "Will the deformities and scars of our present bodies be retained in the resurrection?" "Will all rise of the same age?" "Will all have one size and one sex?" 11 And so on with hundreds of kindred questions. For instance, Thomas Aquinas contended "that no other substance would rise from the grave except that which belonged to the individual in the moment of death."12 What dire prospects this proposition must conjure up before many minds! If one chance to grow prodigiously obese before death, he must lug that enormous corporeity wearily about forever; but if he happen to die when wasted, he must then flit through eternity as thin as a lath. 8 De Civ. Dei, lib. xxii. cap. 19, 20. 9 See the strange speculations of Opitz in his work "De Statura et Atate Resurgentium. 10 Redepenning, Origenes, b. ii. s. 463. 11 Summa Theologia, Thoma Aquinatis, tertia pars, Supplementum, Quastiones 79-87. 12 Hagenbuch, Dogmengeschichte, sect. 204. Those who have had the misfortune to be amputated of legs or arms must appear on the resurrection stage without those very convenient appendages. There will still be need of hospitals for the battered veterans of Chelsea and Greenwich, mutilated heroes, pensioned relics of deck and field. Then in the resurrection the renowned "Mynheer von Clam, Richest merchant in Rotterdam," will again have occasion for the services of the "patent cork leg manufacturer," though it is hardly to be presumed he will accept another unrestrainable one like that which led him so fearful a race through the poet's verses. The Manichaans denied a bodily resurrection. In this all the sects theologically allied to them, who have appeared in ecclesiastical history, for instance, the Cathari, have agreed. There have also been a few individual Christian teachers in every century who have assailed the doctrine. But, as already declared, it has uniformly been the firm doctrine of the Church and of all who acknowledged her authority. The old dogma still remains in the creeds of the recognised Churches, Papal, Greek, and Protestant. It has been terribly shattered by the attacks of reason and of progressive science. It lingers in the minds of most people only as a dead letter. But all the earnest conservative theologians yet cling to it in its unmitigated grossness, with unrelaxing severity. We hear it in practical discourses from the pulpit, and read it in doctrinal treatises, as offensively proclaimed now as ever. Indeed, it is an essential part of the compact system of the ruling theology, and cannot be taken out without loosening the whole dogmatic fabric into fragments. Thus writes to day a distinguished American divine, Dr. Spring: "Whether buried in the earth, or floating in the sea, or consumed by the flames, or enriching the battle field, or evaporate in the atmosphere, all, from Adam to the latest born, shall wend their way to the great arena of the judgment. Every perished bone and every secret particle of dust shall obey the summons and come forth. If one could then look upon the earth, he would see it as one mighty excavated globe, and wonder how such countless generations could have found a dwelling beneath its surface." 13 This is the way the recognised authorities in theology still talk. To venture any other opinion is a heresy all over Christendom at this hour. We will next bring forward and criticize the arguments for and against the doctrine before us. It is contended that the doctrine is demonstrated in the example of Christ's own resurrection. "The resurrection of the flesh was formerly regarded as incredible," says Augustine; "but now we see the whole world believing that Christ's earthly body was borne into heaven." 14 It is the faith of the Church that "Christ rose into heaven with his body of flesh and blood, and wears it there now, and will forever." "Had he been there in body before, it would have been no such wonder that he should have returned with it; but that the flesh of our flesh and bone of our bone should be seated at the right hand of God is worthy of the greatest admiration." 15 That is to say, Christ was from eternity God, the Infinite Spirit, in 13 The Glory of Christ, vol. ii. p. 237. 14 De Civ. Dei, lib. xxii. cap. 5. 15 Pearson on the Creed, 12th ed., pp. 272-275. heaven; he came to earth and lived in a human body; on returning to heaven, instead of resuming his proper form, he bears with him, and will eternally retain, the body of flesh he had worn on earth! Paul says, "Flesh and blood cannot inherit the kingdom of God." The Church, hastily following the senses, led by a carnal, illogical philosophy, has deeply misinterpreted and violently abused the significance of Christ's ascension. The drama of his resurrection, with all its connected parts, was not meant throughout as a strict representation of our destiny. It was a seal upon his commission and teachings, not an exemplification of what should happen to others. It was outwardly a miracle, not a type, an exceptional instance of super natural power, not a significant exhibition of the regular course of things. The same logic which says, "Christ rose and ascended with his fleshly body: therefore we shall," must also say, "Christ rose visibly on the third day: therefore we shall." Christ's resurrection was a miracle; and therefore we cannot reason from it to ourselves. The common conception of a miracle is that it is the suspension, not the manifestation, of ordinary laws. We have just as much logical right to say that the physical appearance in Christ's resurrection was merely an accommodation to the senses of the witnesses, and that on his ascension the body was annihilated, and only his soul entered heaven, as we have to surmise that the theory embodied in the common belief is true. The record is according to mere sensible appearances. The reality is beyond our knowledge. The record gives no explanation. It is wiser in this dilemma to follow the light of reason than to follow the blind spirit of tradition. The point in our reasoning is this. If Christ, on rising from the world of the dead, assumed again his former body, he assumed it by a miracle, and for some special purpose of revealing himself to his disciples and of finishing his earthly work; and it does not follow either that he bore that body into heaven, or that any others will ever, even temporarily, reassume their cast off forms. The Christian Scriptures do not in a single passage teach the popular doctrine of the resurrection of the body. Every text in the New Testament finds its full and satisfactory explanation without implying that dogma at all. In the first place, it is undeniably implied throughout the New Testament that the soul does not perish with the body. It also appears, in the next place, from numerous explicit passages, that the New Testament authors, in common with their countrymen, supposed the souls of the departed to be gathered and tarrying in what the Church calls the intermediate state, the obscure under world. In this subterranean realm they were imagined to be awaiting the advent of the Messiah to release them. Now, we submit that every requirement of the doctrine of the resurrection as it is stated or hinted in the New Testament is fully met by the simple ascension of this congregation of souls from the vaults of Sheol to the light of the upper earth, there to be judged, and then some to be sent up to heaven, some sent back to their prison. For, let it be carefully observed, there is not one text in the New Testament, as before stated, which speaks of the resurrection of the "body" or of the "flesh." The expression is simply the resurrection of "the dead," or of "them that slept." If by "the dead" was meant "the bodies," why are we not told so? Locke, in the Third Letter of his controversy with the Bishop of Worcester on this subject, very pointedly shows the absurdity of a literal interpretation of the words "All that are in their graves shall hear my voice and shall come forth." Nothing can come out of the grave except what is in it. And there are no souls in the grave: they are in the separate state. And there are no bodies in millions of graves: they long ago, even to the last grain of dust, entered into the circulations of the material system. "Coming forth from their graves unto the resurrection" either denotes the rising of souls from the under world, or else its meaning is something incredible. At all events, nothing is said about any resurrection of the body: that is a matter of arbitrary inference. The angels are not thought to have material bodies; and Christ declares, "In the resurrection ye shall neither marry nor be given in marriage, but shall be as the angels of heaven." It seems clear to us that the author of the Epistle to the Hebrews also looked for no restoration of the fleshly body; for he not only studiously omits even the faintest allusion to any such notion, but positively describes "the spirits of just men made perfect in the heavenly Jerusalem, with an innumerable company of angels, and with the general assembly and church of the first born." The Jews and early Christians who believed in a bodily resurrection did not suppose the departed could enter heaven until after that great consummation. The most cogent proof that the New Testament does not teach the resurrection of the same body that is buried in the grave is furnished by the celebrated passage in Paul's Epistle to the Corinthians. The apostle's premises, reasoning, and conclusion are as follows: "Christ is risen from the dead, become the first fruits of them that slept." That is to say, all who have died, except Christ, are still tarrying in the great receptacle of souls under the earth. As the first fruits go before the harvest, so the solitary risen Christ is the forerunner to the general resurrection to follow. "But some one will say, How are the dead raised up? and with what body do they come?" Mark the apostle's reply, and it will appear inexplicable how any one can consider him as arguing for the resurrection of the identical body that was laid in the grave, particle for particle. "Thou fool! that which thou sowest, thou sowest not that body that shall be, but naked grain, and God giveth it a body as it hath pleased him." "There are celestial bodies, and terrestrial bodies;" "there is a natural body, and there is a spiritual body;" "the first man is of the earth, earthy; the second man is the Lord from heaven;" "flesh and blood cannot inherit the kingdom of God;" "we shall all be changed," and "bear the image of the heavenly, as we have borne the image of the earthy." The analogy which has been so strangely perverted by most commentators is used by Paul thus. The germ which was to spring up to a new life, clothed with a new body, was not any part of the fleshly body buried in the grave, but was the soul itself, once contained in the old body, but released from its hull in the grave and preserved in the under world until Christ shall call it forth to be invested with a "glorious," "powerful," "spiritual," "incorruptible" body. When a grain of wheat is sown, that is not the body that shall be; but the mysterious principle of life, latent in the germ of the seed, springs up and puts on its body fashioned appropriately for it. So, according to Paul's conception, when a man is buried, the material corpse is not the resurrection body that shall be; but the living soul which occupied it is the germ that shall put on a new body of immortality when the spring tide of Christ's coming draws the buried treasures of Hades up to the light of heaven. A species of proof which has been much used by the advocates of the dogma of a bodily resurrection is the argument from analogy. The intimate connection of human feeling and fancy with the changing phenomena of Nature's seasons would naturally suggest to a pensive mind the idea, Why, since she has her annual resurrection, may not humanity some time have one? And what first arose as a poetic conceit or stray thought, and was expressed in glowing metaphors, might by an easy process pass abroad and harden into a prosaic proposition or dogmatic formula. "O soul of the spring time, now let us behold The stone from the mouth of the sepulchre roll'd, And Nature rise up from her death's damp mould; Let our faith, which in darkness and coldness has lain, Revive with the warmth and the brightness again, And in blooming of flower and budding of tree The symbols and types of our destiny see." Standing by the graves of our loved and lost ones, our inmost souls yearn over the very dust in which their hallowed forms repose. We feel that they must come back, we must be restored to each other as we were before. Listening to the returned birds whose warble fills the woods once more, gazing around on the verdant and flowery forms of renewed life that clothe the landscape over again, we eagerly snatch at every apparent emblem or prophetic analogy that answers to our fond imagination and desiring dream. Sentiment and fancy, especially when stimulated by love and grief, and roving in the realms of reverie, free from the cold guidance and sharp check of literal fact and severe logic, are poor analysts, and then we easily confuse things distinct and wander to conclusions philosophy will not warrant. Before building a dogmatic doctrine on analogies, we must study those analogies with careful discrimination, must see what they really are, and to what they really lead. There is often an immense difference between the first appearance to a hasty observer and the final reality to a profound student. Let us, then, scrutinize a little more closely those seeming analogies which, to borrow a happy expression from Flugge, have made "Resurrection a younger sister of Immortality." Nature, the old, eternal snake, comes out afresh every year in a new shining skin. What then? Of course this emblem is no proof of any doctrine concerning the fate of man. But, waiving that, what would the legitimate correspondence to it be for man? Why, that humanity should exhibit the fresh specimens of her living handiwork in every new generation. And that is done. Nature does not reproduce before us each spring the very flowers that perished the previous winter: she makes new ones like them. It is not a resurrection of the old: it is a growth of the new. The passage of the worm from its slug to its chrysalis state is surely no symbol of a bodily resurrection, but rather of a bodily emancipation, not resuming a deserted dead body, but assuming a new live one. Does the butterfly ever come back to put on the exuvia that have perished in the ground? The law of all life is progress, not return, ascent through future developments, not descent through the stages already traversed. "The herb is born anew out of a seed, Not raised out of a bony skeleton. What tree is man the seed of? Of a soul." Sir Thomas Browne, after others, argues for the restoration of man's body from the grave, from the fancied analogy of the palingenesis or resurrection of vegetables which the magicians of the antique East and the mystic chemists of the Middle Age boasted of effecting. He having asserted in his "Religion of a Physician" that "experience can from the ashes of a plant revive the plant, and from its cinders recall it into its stalk and leaves again," Dr. Henry Power wrote beseeching "an experimental eviction of so high and noble a piece of chemistry, the reindividuality of an incinerated plant." We are not informed that Sir Thomas ever granted him the sight. Of this beautiful error, this exquisite superstition, which undoubtedly arose from the crystallizations of certain salts in arborescent forms which suddenly surprised the early alchemists in some of their experiments, we have the following account in Disraeli's "Curiosities of Literature:" "The semina of resurrection are concealed in extinct bodies, as in the blood of man. The ashes of roses will again revive into roses, though smaller and paler than if they had been planted unsubstantial and unodoriferous, they are not roses which grew on rose trees, but their delicate apparitions; and, like apparitions, they are seen but for a moment. This magical phoenix lies thus concealed in its cold ashes till the presence of a certain chemical heat produces its resurrection." Any refutation of this now would be considered childish. Upon the whole, then, while recurrent spring, bringing in the great Easter of the year, typifies to us indeed abundantly the development of new life, the growth of new bodies out of the old and decayed, but nowhere hints at the gathering up and wearing again of the dusty sloughs and rotted foliage of the past, let men cease to talk of there being any natural analogies to the ecclesiastical dogma of the resurrection of the flesh. The teaching of nature finds a truer utterance in the words of Aschylus: "There is no resurrection for him who is once dead." 16 The next argument is that based on considerations of reason and of ethics. The supporters of the doctrine of the resurrection of the body have often disingenuously evaded the burden of proof thrown upon them by retreating beneath loud assertions of God's power. From the earliest dawn of the hypothesis to the present time, every perplexity arising from it, every objection brought against it, every absurdity shown to be involved in it, has been met and confidently rebutted with declarations of God's abundant power to effect a physical resurrection, or to do any thing else he pleases, however impossible it may appear to us. Now, it is true the power of God is competent to innumerable things utterly beyond our skill, knowledge, or conception. Nevertheless, there is a province within which our reason can judge of probabilities, and can, if not absolutely grasp infallible truth, at least reach satisfactory convictions. God is able to restore the vast coal deposits of the earth, and the ashes of all the fuel ever burned, to their original condition when they covered the world with 16 Eumenides, 1. 648, Oxford edition. dense forests of ferns; but we have no reason to believe he will do it. The truth or falsity of the popular theory of the resurrection is not a question of God's power; it is simply a question of God's will. A Jewish Rabbin relates the following conversation, as exultingly as if the quibbling evasion on which it turns positively settled the question itself, which in fact it does not approach. A Sadducee says, "The resurrection of the dead is a fable: the dry, scattered dust cannot live again." A by standing Pharisee makes this reply: "There were in a city two artists: one made vases of water, the other made them of clay: which was the more wondrous artist?" The Sadducee answered, "The former." The Pharisee rejoins, "Cannot God, then, who formed man of water, (gutta seminis humida,) much more re form him of clay?" Such a method of reasoning is an irrelevant impertinence. God can call Nebuchadnezzar from his long rest, and seat him on his old throne again to morrow. What an absurdity to infer that therefore he will do it! God can give us wings upon our bodies, and enable us to fly on an exploring trip among the planets. Will he do it? The question, we repeat, is not whether God has the power to raise our dead bodies, but whether he has the will. To that question since, as we have already seen, he has sent us no miraculous revelation replying to it we can only find an answer by tracing the indications of his intentions contained in reason, morals, and nature. One of the foremost arguments urged by the Fathers for the resurrection was its supposed necessity for a just and complete judgment. The body was involved and instrumental in all the sins of the man: it must therefore bear part in his punishment. The Rabbins tell this allegory: "In the day of judgment the body will say, The soul alone is to blame: since it left me, I have lain like a stone in the grave. The soul will retort, The body alone is sinful: since released from it, I fly through the air like a bird. The Judge will interpose with this myth: A king once had a beautiful garden full of early fruits. A lame man and a blind man were in it. Said the lame man to the blind man, Let me mount upon your shoulders and pluck the fruit, and we will divide it. The king accused them of theft; but they severally replied, the lame man, How could I reach it? the blind man, How could I see it? The king ordered the lame man to be placed upon the back of the blind man, and in this position had them both scourged. So God in the day of judgment will replace the soul in the body, and hurl them both into hell together." There is a queer tradition among the Mohammedans implying, singularly enough, the same general thought. The Prophet's uncle, Hamzah, having been slain by Hind, daughter of Atabah, the cursed woman cut out his liver and gnawed it with fiendish joy; but, lest any of it should become incorporated with her system and go to hell, the Most High made it as hard as a stone; and when she threw it on the ground, an angel restored it to its original nature and place in the body of the martyred hero, that lion of God. The Roman Catholic Church endorses the representation that the body must be raised to be punished. In the Catechism of the Council of Trent, which is an authoritative exposition of Romanist theology, we read that the "identical body" shall be restored, though "without deformities or superfluities;" restored that "as it was a partner in the man's deeds, so it may be a partner in his punishments." The same Catechism also gives in this connection the reason why a general judgment is necessary after each individual has been judged at his death, namely, this: that they may be punished for the evil which has resulted in the world since they died from the evil they did in the world while they lived! Is it not astonishing how these theologians find out so much? A living Presbyterian divine of note says, "The bodies of the damned in the resurrection shall be fit dwellings for their vile minds. With all those fearful and horrid expressions which every base and malignant passion wakes up in the human countenance stamped upon it for eternity and burned in by the flaming fury of their own terrific wickedness, they will be condemned to look upon their own deformity and to feel their fitting doom." It is therefore urged that the body must be raised to suffer the just penalty of the sins man committed while occupying it. Is it not an absurdity to affirm that nerves and blood, flesh and bones, are responsible, guilty, must be punished? Tucker, in his "Light of Nature Pursued," says, "The vulgar notion of a resurrection in the same form and substance we carry about at present, because the body being partaker in the deed ought to share in the reward, as well requires a resurrection of the sword a man murders with, or the bank note he gives to charitable uses." We suppose an intelligent personality, a free will, indispensable to responsibleness and alone amenable to retributions. Besides, if the body must be raised to undergo chastisement for the offences done in it and by means of it, this insurmountable difficulty by the same logic confronts us. The material of our bodies is in a constant change, the particles becoming totally transferred every few years. Now, when a man is punished after the general judgment for a certain crime, he must be in the very body he occupied when that crime was perpetrated. Since he was a sinner all his days, his resurrection body must comprise all the matter that ever formed a part of his corporeity, and each sinner may hereafter be as huge as the writhing Titan, Tityus, whose body, it was fabled, covered nine acres. God is able to preserve the integral soul in being, and to punish it according to justice, without clothing it in flesh. This fact by itself utterly vacates and makes gratuitous the hypothesis of a physical resurrection from punitive considerations, an hypothesis which is also refuted by the truth contained in Locke's remark to Stillingfleet, "that the soul hath no greater congruity with the particles of matter which were once united to it, but are so no longer, than it hath with any other particles of matter." When the soul leaves the body, it would seem to have done with that stage of its existence, and to enter upon another and higher one, leaving the dust to mix with dust forever. The body wants not the soul again; for it is a senseless clod and wants nothing. The soul wants not its old body again: it prefers to have the freedom of the universe, a spirit. Philip the Solitary wrote, in the twelfth century, a book called "Dioptra," presenting the controversy between the soul and the body very quaintly and at length. The same thing was done by Henry Nicholson in a "Conference between the Soul and Body concerning the Present and Future State." William Crashaw, an old English poet, translated from the Latin a poem entitled "The Complaint: a Dialogue between the Body and the Soul of a Damned Man."17 But any one who will peruse with intelligent heed the works that have been written on this whole subject must be amazed to see how exclusively the doctrine which we are opposing has rested on pure grounds of tradition and fancy, alike destitute of authority and reason. Some authors have indeed attempted to support the doctrine with arguments: for 17 Also see Dialogue inter Corpus et Animam, p. 95 of Latin Poems attributed to Walter Mapes. instance, there are two German works, one by Bertram, one by Pflug, entitled "The Resurrection of the Dead on Grounds of Reason," in which recourse is had to every possible expedient to make out a case, not even neglecting the factitious assistance of Leibnitz's scheme of "Pre established Harmony." But it may be deliberately affirmed that not one of their arguments is worthy of respect. Apparently, they do not seek to reach truth, but to bolster up a foregone conclusion held merely from motives of tradition. The Jews had a favorite tradition, developed by their Rabbins in many passages, that there was one small, almond shaped bone, (supposed now to have been the bone called by anatomists the os coccygis,) which was indestructible, and would form the nucleus around which the rest of the body would gather at the time of the resurrection. This bone, named Luz, was miraculously preserved from demolition or decay. Pound it furiously on anvils with heavy hammers of steel, burn it for ages in the fiercest furnaces, soak it for centuries in the strongest solvents, all in vain: its magic structure still remained. So the Talmud tells. "Even as there is a round dry grain In a plant's skeleton, which, being buried, Can raise the herb's green body up again; So is there such in man, a seed shaped bone, Aldabaron, call'd by the Hebrews Luz, Which, being laid into the ground, will bear, After three thousand years, the grass of flesh, The bloody, soul possessed weed called man." The Jews did not, as these singular lines represent, suppose this bone was a germ which after long burial would fructify by a natural process and bear a perfect body: they regarded it only as a nucleus around which the Messiah would by a miracle compel the decomposed flesh to return as in its pristine life. All that the Jews say of Luz the Mohammedans repeat of the bone Al Ajib. This conceit of superstition has been developed by a Christian author of considerable reputation into a theory of a natural resurrection. The work of Mr. Samuel Drew on the "Identity and General Resurrection of the Human Body" has been quite a standard work on the subject of which it treats. Mr. Drew believes there is a germ in the body which slowly ripens and prepares the resurrection body in the grave. As a seed must be buried for a season in order to spring up in perfect life, so must the human body be buried till the day of judgment. During this period it is not idle, but is busily getting ready for its consummation. He says, "There are four distinct stages through which those parts constituting the identity of the body must necessarily pass in order to their attainment of complete perfection beyond the grave. The first of these stages is that of its elementary principles; the second is that of an embryo in the womb; the third is that of its union with an immaterial spirit, and with the fluctuating portions of flesh and blood in our present state; and the fourth stage is that of its residence in the grave. All these stages are undoubtedly necessary to the full perfection of the body: they are alembics through which its parts must necessarily move to attain that vigor which shall continue forever."18 To state this figment is enough. It would be folly to attempt any refutation of a fancy so obviously a pure contrivance to fortify a preconceived opinion, a fancy, too, so preposterous, so utterly without countenance, either from experience, observation, science, reason, or Scripture. The egg of man's divinity is not laid in the nest of the grave. Another motive for believing the resurrection of the body has been created by the exigencies of a materialistic philosophy. There was in the early Church an Arabian sect of heretics who were reclaimed from their errors by the powerful reasonings and eloquence of Origen.19 Their heresy consisted in maintaining that the soul dies with the body being indeed only its vital breath and will be restored with it at the last day. In the course of the Christian centuries there have arisen occasionally a few defenders of this opinion. Priestley, as is well known, was an earnest supporter of it. Let us scan the ground on which he held this belief. In the first place, he firmly believed that the fact of an eternal life to come had been supernaturally revealed to men by God through Christ. Secondly, as a philosopher he was intensely a materialist, holding with unwavering conviction to the conclusion that life, mind, or soul, was a concomitant or result of our physical organism, and wholly incapable of being without it. Death to him was the total destruction of man for the time. There was therefore plainly no alternative for him but either to abandon one of his fundamental convictions as a Christian and a philosopher, or else to accept the doctrine of a future resurrection of the body into an immortal life. He chose the latter, and zealously taught always that death is an annihilation lasting till the day of judgment, when all are to be summoned from their graves. To this whole course of thought there are several replies to be made. In the first place, we submit that the philosophy of materialism is false: standing in the province of science and reason, it may be affirmed that the soul is not dependent for its existence on the body, but will survive it. We will not argue this point, but merely state it. Secondly, it is certain that the doctrine which makes soul perish with body finds no countenance in the New Testament. It is inconsistent with the belief in angelic spirits, in demoniac possessions, in Christ's descent as a spirit to preach to the spirits of departed men imprisoned in the under world, and with other conceptions underlying the Gospels and the Epistles. But, thirdly, admitting it to be true, then, we affirm, the legitimate deduction from all the arrayed facts of science and all the presumptive evidence of appearances is not that a future resurrection will restore the dead man to life, but that all is over with him, he has hopelessly perished forever. When the breath ceases, if nothing survives, if the total man is blotted out, then we challenge the production of a shadow of proof that he will ever live again. The seeming injustice and blank awfulness of the fate may make one turn for relief to the hypothesis of a future arbitrary miraculous resurrection; but that is an artificial expedient, without a shadow of justification. Once admit that the body is all, its dissolution a total death, and you are gone forever. One intuition of the spirit, seizing the conscious supports of eternal ideas, casts contempt on "The doubtful prospects of our painted dust," 18 Drew on Resurrection, ch. vi. sect. vii. pp. 326-332. 19 Eusebius, Eccl. Hist. lib. vi. cap. xxxvii. and outvalues all the gross hopes of materialism. Between nonentity and being yawns the untraversable gulf of infinity. No: the body of flesh falls, turns to dust and air; the soul, emancipated, rejoices, and soars heavenwards, and is its own incorruptible frame, mocking at death, a celestial house, whose maker and builder is God. Finally, there remain to be weighed the bearings of the argument from chemical and physiological science on the resurrection. Here is the chief stumbling block in the way of the popular doctrine. The scientific absurdities connected with that doctrine have been marshalled against it by Celsus, the Platonist philosopher, by Avicenna, the Arabian physician, and by hundreds more, and have never been answered, and cannot be answered. As long as man lives, his bodily substance is incessantly changing; the processes of secretion and absorption are rapidly going forward. Every few years he is, as to material, a totally new man. Dying at the age of seventy, he has had at least ten different bodies. He is one identical soul, but has lived in ten separate houses. With which shall he be raised? with the first? or the fifth? or the last? or with all? But, further, the body after death decays, enters into combination with water, air, earth, gas, vegetables, animals, other human bodies. In this way the same matter comes to have belonged to a thousand persons. In the resurrection, whose shall it be? We reply, nearly in the language of Christ to the Sadducees, "Ye do err, not knowing the Scriptures, nor the will of God: in the resurrection they have not bodies of earthly flesh, but are spirits, as the angels of God." The argument against the common theory of a material resurrection, on account of numerous claimants for the same substance, has of late derived a greatly increased force from the brilliant discoveries in chemistry. It is now found that only a small number of substances ever enter into the composition of animal bodies.20 The food of man consists of nitrogenized and non nitrogenized substances. The latter are the elements of respiration; the former alone compose the plastic elements of nutrition, and they are few in number and comparatively limited in extent. "All life depends on a relatively small quantity of matter. Over and over again, as the modeller fashions his clay, are plant and animal formed out of the same material." The particles that composed Adam's frame may before the end of the world have run the circuit of ten thousand bodies of his descendants: "'Twas mine, 'tis his, and has been slave to thousands." To proclaim the resurrection of the flesh as is usually done, seems a flat contradiction of clear knowledge.21 A late writer on this subject, Dr. Hitchcock, evades the insuperable difficulty by saying, "It is not necessary that the resurrection body should contain a single particle of the body laid in the grave, if it only contain particles of the same kind, united in the same proportion, and the compound be made to assume the same form and structure as the natural body." 22 Then two men who look exactly alike may in the resurrection exchange bodies without any harm! Here the theory of punishment clashes. Does not the esteemed author see that this would not be a resurrection of the old bodies, but a creation of new ones 20 Liebig, Animal Chemistry, sect. xix. 21 The Circulation of Matter, Blackwood's Magazine, May, 1853. 22 The Resurrection of Spring, p. 26. just like them? And is not this a desertion of the orthodox doctrine of the Church? If he varies so far from the established formularies out of a regard for philosophy, he may as well be consistent and give up the physical doctrine wholly, because it rests solely on the tradition which he leaves and is every whit irreconcilable with philosophy. This device is as wilful an attempt to escape the scientific difficulty as that employed by Candlish to avoid the scriptural difficulty put in the way of the doctrine by the apostolic words "Flesh and blood cannot inherit the kingdom of God." The eminent Scottish divine affirms that "flesh and bones" that is, these present bodies made incorruptible can inherit the kingdom of God; although "flesh and blood" that is, these present bodies subject to decay cannot.23 It is surely hard to believe that the New Testament writers had such a distinction in their minds. It is but a forlorn resource conjured up to meet a desperate exigency. At the appearing of Christ in glory, "When the Day of Fire shall have dawn'd, and sent Its deadly breath into the firmament," as it is supposed, the great earth cemetery will burst open and its innumerable millions swarm forth before him. Unto the tremendous act of habeas corpus, then proclaimed, every grave will yield its prisoner. Ever since the ascension of Jesus his mistaken followers have been anxiously expecting that awful advent of his person and his power in the clouds; but in vain. "All things remain as they were: where is the promise of his appearing?" As the lookers out hitherto have been disappointed, so they ever will be. Say not, Lo here! or, Lo there! for, behold, he is within you. The reason why this carnal error, Jewish conceit, retains a hold, is that men accept it without any honest scrutiny of its foundations or any earnest thought of their own about it. They passively receive the tradition. They do not realize the immensity of the thing, nor the ludicrousness of its details. To their imaginations the awful blast of the trumpet calling the world to judgment, seems no more, as Feuerbach says, than a tone from the tin horn of a postillion, who, at the post station of the Future, orders fresh horses for the Curriculum Vita! President Hitchcock tells us that, "when the last trumpet sounds, the whole surface of the earth will become instinct with life, from the charnels of battle fields alone more than a thousand millions of human beings starting forth and crowding upwards to the judgment seat." On the resurrection morning, at the first tip of light over acres of opening monument and heaving turf, "Each member jogs the other, And whispers, Live you, brother?" And how will it be with us then? Will Daniel Lambert, the mammoth of men, appear weighing half a ton? Will the Siamese twins then be again joined by the living ligament of their congenital band? Shall "infants be not raised in the smallness of body in which they died, but increase by the wondrous and most swift work of God"? 24 23 Candlish, Life in a Risen Savior: Discourse XV. 24 Augustine, De Civ. Dei, lib. xxii. cap. xiv. Young sings, "Now charnels rattle; scatter'd limbs, and all The various bones, obsequious to the call, Self moved, advance; the neck perhaps to meet The distant head; the distant head the feet. Dreadful to view! see, through the dusky sky Fragments of bodies in confusion fly, To distant regions journeying, there to claim Deserted members and complete the frame." The glaring melodramatic character, the startling mechanico theatrical effects, of this whole doctrine, are in perfect keeping with the raw imagination of the childhood of the human mind, but in profound opposition to the working philosophy of nature and the sublime simplicity of God. Many persons have never distinctly defined their views upon the subject before us. In the minds even of many preachers and writers, several different and irreconcilable theories would seem to exist together in confused mixture. Now they speak as if the soul were sleeping with the body in the grave; again they appear to imply that it is detained in an intermediate state; and a moment afterwards they say it has already entered upon its final reward or doom. Jocelyn relates, in his Life of St. Patrick, that "as the saint one day was passing the graves of two men recently buried, observing that one of the graves had a cross over it, he stopped his chariot and asked the dead man below of what religion he had been. The reply was, 'A pagan.' 'Then why was this cross put over you?' inquired St. Patrick. The dead man answered, 'He who is buried near me is a Christian; and one of your faith, coming hither, placed the cross at my head.' The saint stepped out of his chariot, rectified the mistake, and went his way." Calvin, in the famous treatise designated "Psychopannychia," which he levelled against those who taught the sleep of souls until the day of judgment, maintained that the souls of the elect go immediately to heaven, the souls of the reprobate to hell. Here they tarry in bliss and bale until the resurrection; then, coming to the earth, they assume their bodies and return to their respective places. But if the souls live so long in heaven and hell without their flesh, why need they ever resume it? The cumbrous machinery of the scheme seems superfluous and unmeaning. As a still further specimen of the arbitrary thinking the unscientific and unphilosophical thinking carried into this department of thought by most who have cultivated it, reference may be made to Bishop Burnet's work "De Statu Mortuorum et Resurgentium," which teaches that at the first resurrection the bodies of the risen will be the same as the present, but at the second resurrection, after the millennium, from the rudiments of the present body a new spiritual body will be developed. The true idea of man's future destiny appears to be that no resurrection of the flesh is needed, because the real man never dies, but lives continuously forever. There are two reasonable ways of conceiving what the vehicle of his life is when he leaves his present frame. It may be that within his material system lurks an exquisite spiritual organization, invisibly pervading it and constituting its vital power. This ethereal structure is disengaged at last from its gross envelope, and, unfettered, soars to the Divine realms of ether and light. This theory of an "inner body" is elaborately wrought out and sustained in Bonnet's "Palingenesie Philosophique." Or it may be that there is in each one a primal germ, a deathless monad, which is the organic identity of man, root of his inmost stable being, triumphant, unchanging ruler of his flowing, perishable organism. This spirit germ, born into the present life, assimilates and holds the present body around it, out of the materials of this world; born into the future life, it will assimilate and hold around it a different body, out of the materials of the future world.25 Thus there are bodies terrestrial and bodies celestial: the glory of the terrestrial is one, fitted to this scene of things; the glory of the celestial is another, fitted to the scene of things hereafter to dawn. Each spirit will be clothed from the material furnished by the world in which it resides. Not forever shall we bear about this slow load of weary clay, this corruptible mass, heir to a thousand ills. Our body shall rather be such "If lightning were the gross corporeal frame Of some angelic essence, whose bright thoughts As far surpass'd in keen rapidity The lagging action of his limbs as doth Man's mind his clay; with like excess of speed To animated thought of lightning flies That spirit body o'er life's deeps divine, Far past the golden isles of memory." What man knows constitutes his present world. All beyond that constitutes another world. He can imagine two modes in which his desire for a life after death may be gratified, a removal into the Unknown World, or a return into the Known World. With the latter supposition the restoration of the flesh is involved. Upon the whole, our conclusion is, that in the original plan of the world it was fixed that man should not live here forever, but that the essence of his life should escape from the flesh and depart to some other sphere of being, there either to fashion itself a new form, or to remain disembodied. If those who hold the common doctrine of a carnal resurrection should carry it out with philosophical consistency, by extending the scheme it involves to all existing planetary races as well as to their own, should they cause that process of imagination which produced this doctrine to go on to its legitimate completion, they would see in the final consummation the sundered earths approach each other, and firmaments conglobe, till at last the whole universe concentred in one orb. On the surface of that world all the risen races of being would be distributed, the inhabitants of a present solar system making a nation, the sum of gigantic nationalities constituting one prodigious, death exempted empire, its solitary sovereign GOD. But this is pure poetry, and not science nor philosophy. 25 Lange on the Resurrection of the Body, Studien und Kritiken, 1836. CHAPTER IV. DOCTRINE OF FUTURE PUNISHMENT; OR, CRITICAL HISTORY OF THE IDEA OF A HELL. A HELL of fire and brimstone has been, perhaps still is, the most terrible of the superstitions of the world. We propose to give a historic sketch of the popular representations on this subject, trace them to their origin, and discuss the merits of the question itself. To follow the doctrine through all its variations, illustrating the practical and controversial writings upon it, would require a large volume; but, by a judicious arrangement, all that is necessary to a fair understanding of the subject, or really interesting, may be presented within the compass of an essay. Any one who should read the literature of this subject would be astonished at the almost universal prevalence of the doctrine and at the immense diversity of appalling descriptions of it, and would ask, Whence arises all this? How have these horrors obtained such a seated hold in the world? In the first place, it is to be replied, as soon as reason is in fair possession of the idea of a continued individual existence beyond the grave, the moral sense, discriminating the deeds, tempers, and characters of men, would teach that there must be different allotments and experiences for them after death. It is not right, say reason and conscience, for the coward, the idler, fool, knave, sot, murderer, to enter into the same realm and have the same bliss with heroes, sages, and saints; neither are they able to do it. The spontaneous thought and sentiment of humanity would declare, if the soul survives the body, passing into the invisible world, its fortunes there must depend somewhat upon its fitness and deserts, its contained treasures and acquired habits. Reason, judging the facts of observation according to the principles of ethics and the working of experienced spiritual laws, at once decides that there is a difference hereafter between the fate of the good heart and the bad one, the great soul and the mean one: in a word, there is, in some sense or other, a heaven and a hell. Again: the same belief would be necessitated by the conception, so deeply entertained by the primitive people of the earth, of overruling and inspecting gods. They supposed these gods to be in a great degree like themselves, partial, fickle, jealous, revengeful. Such beings, of course, would caress their favorites and torture their offenders. The calamities and blessings of this life were regarded as tokens, revengeful or loving, of the ruling deities, now pleased, now enraged. And when their votaries or victims had passed into the eternal state, how natural to suppose them still favored or cursed by the passionate wills of these irresponsible gods! Plainly enough, they who believe in gods that launch thunderbolts and upheave the sea in their rage and take vengeance for an insult by sending forth a pestilence, must also believe in a hell where Ixion may be affixed to the wheel and Tantalus be tortured with maddening mockeries. These two conceptions of discriminating justice and of vengeful gods both lead to the theoretic construction of a hell, and to the growth of doctrines and parables about it, though in a different sort, the former illustrating a pervasive law which distributes men according to their deserts, the latter speaking of beings with human passions, who inflict outward arbitrary penalties according to their pleasure. Thirdly, when the general idea of a hell has once obtained lodgment, it is rapidly nourished, developed, and ornamented, carried out into particulars by poets, rhetoricians, and popular teachers, whose fancies are stimulated and whose figurative views and pictures act and react both upon the sources and the products of faith. Representations based only on moral facts, emblems addressing the imagination, after a while are received in a literal sense, become physically located and clothed with the power of horror. A Hindu poet says, "The ungrateful shall remain in hell as long as the sun hangs in heaven." An old Jewish Rabbi says that after the general judgment "God shall lead all the blessed through hell and all the damned through paradise, and show to each one the place that was prepared for him in each region, so that they shall not be able to say, 'We are not to be blamed or praised; for our doom was unalterably fixed beforehand.' Such utterances are originally moral symbols, not dogmatic assertions; and yet in a rude age they very easily pass into the popular mind as declaring facts literally to be believed. A Talmudic writer says, "There are in hell seven abodes, in each abode seven thousand caverns, in each cavern seven thousand clefts, in each cleft seven thousand scorpions; each scorpion has seven limbs, and on each limb are seven thousand barrels of gall. There are also in hell seven rivers of rankest poison, so deadly that if one touches it he bursts." Hesiod, Homer, Virgil, have given minute descriptions of hell and its agonies, descriptions which have unquestionably had a tremendous influence in cherishing and fashioning the world's faith in that awful empire. The poems of Dante, Milton, and Pollok revel in the most vivid and terrific pictures of the infernal kingdom and its imagined horrors; and the popular doctrine of future punishment in Christendom is far more closely conformed to their revelations than to the declarations of the New Testament. The English poet's "Paradise Lost" has undoubtedly exerted an influence on the popular faith comparable with that of the Genevan theologian's "Institutes of the Christian Religion." There is a horrid fiction, widely believed once by the Jewish Rabbins and by the Mohammedans, that two gigantic fiends called the Searchers, as soon as a deceased person is buried, make him sit up in the grave, examine the moral condition of his soul, and, if he is very guilty, beat in his temples with heavy iron maces. It is obvious to observe that such conceptions are purely arbitrary, the work of fancy, not based on any intrinsic fitness or probability; but they are received because unthinking ignorance and hungry superstition will greedily believe any thing they hear. Joseph Trapp, an English clergyman, in a long poem thus sets forth the scene of damnation: "Doom'd to live death and never to expire, In floods and whirlwinds of tempestuous fire The damn'd shall groan, fire of all kinds and forms, In rain and hail, in hurricanes and storms, Liquid and solid, livid, red, and pale, A flaming mountain here, and there a flaming vale; The liquid fire makes seas, the solid, shores; Arch'd o'er with flames, the horrid concave roars. In bubbling eddies rolls the fiery tide, And sulphurous surges on each other ride. The hollow winding vaults, and dens, and caves, Bellow like furnaces with flaming waves. Pillars of flame in spiral volumes rise, Like fiery snakes, and lick the infernal skies. Sulphur, the eternal fuel, unconsumed, Vomits redounding smoke, thick, unillumed." But all other paintings of the fear and anguish of hell are vapid and pale before the preternatural frightfulness of those given at unmerciful length and in sickening specialty in some of the Hindu and Persian sacred books.1 Here worlds of nauseating disgusts, of loathsome agonies, of intolerable terrors, pass before us. Some are hung up by their tongues, or by their eyes, and slowly devoured by fiery vermin; some scourged with whips of serpents whose poisonous fangs lacerate their flesh at every blow; some forced to swallow bowls of gore, hair, and corruption, freshly filled as fast as drained; some packed immovably in red hot iron chests and laid in raging furnaces for unutterable millions of ages. One who is familiar with the imagery of the Buddhist hells will think the pencils of Dante and Pollok, of Jeremy Taylor and Jonathan Edwards, were dipped in water. There is just as much ground for believing the accounts of the former to be true as there is for crediting those of the latter: the two are fundamentally the same, and the pagan had earlier possession of the field. Furthermore, in the early ages, and among people where castes were prominent, when the learning, culture, and power were confined to one class at the expense of others, it is unquestionable that copious and fearful descriptions of the future state were spread abroad by those who were interested in establishing such a dogma. The haughtiness and selfishness of the hierarchic spirit, the exclusiveness, cruelty, and cunning tyranny of many of the ancient priesthoods, are well known. Despising, hating, and fearing the people, whom they held in abject spiritual bondage, they sought to devise, diffuse, and organize such opinions as would concentrate power in their own hands and rivet their authority. Accordingly, in the lower immensity they painted and shadowed forth the lurid and dusky image of hell, gathering around it all that was most abominated and awful. Then they set up certain fanciful conditions, without the strict observance of which no one could avoid damnation. The animus of a priesthood in the structure of this doctrine is shown by the glaring fact that in the old religions the woes of hell were denounced not so much upon bad men who committed crimes out of a wicked heart, as upon careless men who neglected priestly guidance and violated the ritual. The omission of a prayer or an ablution, the neglect of baptism or confession, a slight thrown upon a priest, a mental conception differing from the decree of the "Church," would condemn a man far more surely and deeply into the Egyptian, Hindu, Persian, Pharisaic, Papal, or Calvinistic hell than any amount of moral culpability according to the standard of natural ethics. 1 See Pope's translation of the Viraf Nameh. Also the Dabistan, vol. i. pp. 295-304, of the translation by Shea and Troyer; and Coleman's Mythology of the Hindus, chapter on the hells. The popular hells have ever been built on hierarchic selfishness, dogmatic pride, and personal cruelty, and have been walled around with arbitrary and traditional rituals. Through the breaches made in these rituals by neglect, souls have been plunged in. The Parsee priest describes a woman in hell "beaten with stone clubs by two demons twelve miles in size, and compelled to continue eating a basin of putridity, because once some of her hair, as she combed it, fell into the sacred fire." The Brahmanic priest tells of a man who, for "neglecting to meditate on the mystic monosyllable Om before praying, was thrown down in hell on an iron floor and cleaved with an axe, then stirred in a caldron of molten lead till covered all over with the sweated foam of torture like a grain of rice in an oven, and then fastened, with head downwards and feet upwards, to a chariot of fire and urged onwards with a red hot goad." The Papal priest declares that the schismatic, though the kindest and justest man, at death drops hopelessly into hell, while the devotee, though scandalously corrupt in heart and life, who confesses and receives extreme unction, treads the primrose path to paradise. The Episcopalian priest dooms the dissenter to everlasting woe in spite of every virtue, because he has not known sacramental baptism in the apostolic line. The Arminian priest turns the rationalist over to the penal fires of eternity, because he is in mental error as to the explanation of the Trinity and the Atonement. In every age it has been the priestly spirit, acting on ritual considerations, that has deepened the foundations, enlarged the borders, and apportioned the victims, of hell. The perversions and excesses of the doctrine have grown out of cruel ambition and cunning on one side, and been received by docile ignorance and superstition on the other, and been mutually fed by traditions and fables between. The excessive vanity and theocratic pride of the Jews led them to exclude all the Gentiles, whom they stigmatized as "uncircumcised dogs," from the Jewish salvation. The same spirit, aggravated if possible, passed lineally into Christendom, causing the Orthodox Church to exclude all the heathen, all heretics, and the unbaptized, from the Christian salvation. A fifth explanation of the wholesale severity and multiplied details of horror, which came to be incorporated with the doctrine of hell, is to be found in the gloomy theories of certain philosophers whose relentless speculations were tinged and moulded by their own recluse misanthropy and the prevailing superstitions of their time. Out of the old asceticism of the East the false spiritualism which regarded matter as the source of evil and this life as a penance arose the dogma of metempsychosis. The consequence of this theory, rigidly carried out, created a descending congeries of hells, reaching from centre to nadir, in correspondence to an ascending congeries of heavens, reaching from centre to zenith. Out of the myth of the Fall sprang the dogma of total depravity, dooming our whole race to hell forever, except those saved by the subsequent artifice of the atonement. Theories conjured up and elaborated by fanciful and bloodless metaphysicians, in an age when the milk of public human kindness was thinned, soured, poisoned, by narrow and tyrannical prejudices, might easily legitimate and establish any conclusions, however unreasonable and monstrous. The history of philosophy is the broad demonstration of this. The Church philosophers, (with exceptions, of course,) receiving the traditions of the common faith, partaking in the superstitions of their age, banished from the bosoms of men by their monastic position, and inflamed with hierarchic pride, with but a faint connection or intercourse between conscience and intellect or between heart and fancy, strove to spin out theories which would explain and justify the orthodox dogmas. Working with metaphysical tools of abstract reason, not with the practical faculties of life, dealing with the fanciful materials of priestly tradition, not with the solid facts of ethical observation, they would naturally be troubled with but few qualms and make but few reservations, however overwhelming the results of horror at which they might arrive. Habituated for years to hair drawn analyses and superstitious broodings upon the subject, overshadowed by the supernatural hierarchy in which they lived, surrounded by a thick night of ignorance, persecution, and slaughter, it was no wonder they could believe the system they preached, although in reality it was only a traditional abstraction metaphysically wrought up and vivified by themselves. Being thus wrought out and animated by them, who were the sole depositaries of learning and the undisputed lords of thought, the mass of the people, lying abjectly in the fetters of authority, could not help accepting it. Ample illustrations of these assertions will occur to all who are familiar with the theological schemes and the dialectic subtleties of the early Church Fathers and of the later Church Scholastics. Finally, by the combined power, first, of natural conscience affirming a future distinction between the good and the bad; secondly, of imperfect conceptions of God as a passionate avenger; thirdly, of the licentious fancies of poets drawing awful imaginative pictures of future woe; fourthly, of the cruel spirit and the ambitious plans of selfish priesthoods; and fifthly, of the harsh and relentless theories of conforming metaphysicians, the doctrine of hell, as a located place of manifold terrific physical tortures drawing in vast majorities of the human race, became established in the ruling creeds and enthroned as an orthodox dogma. In some heathen nations the descriptions of the poets, in others the accounts of the priestly books, were held to be inspired revelations. To call them in question was blasphemous. In Christendom the scriptural representations of the subject, which were general moral adaptations, incidentally made, of representations already existing, obtained a literal interpretation, had the stamp of infallibility put on them and immense perverted additions joined to them. Thus everywhere the dogma became associated with the established authority. To deny it was heresy. Heretics were excommunicated, loaded with pains and penalties, and, for many centuries, often put to death with excruciating tortures. From that moment the doctrine was taken out of the province of natural reason, out of the realm of ethical truth. The absurdities, wrongs, and barbarities deducible from it were a part and parcel of it, and not to be considered as any objection to it. No free thought and honest criticism were allowed. Because taught by authority, it must be submissively taken for granted. Henceforth we are not to wonder at the revolting inhumanity of spirit and horribleness of gloating hatred shown in connection with the doctrine; for it was not the independent thought and proper moral spirit of individuals, but the petrified dogma and irresponsible corporate spirit of that towering hierarchy, the Church. The Church set forth certain conditional offers of salvation. When those offers were spurned or neglected, the Church felt personally insulted and aggrieved. Her servants hurled on the hated heretics and heathen the denunciations of bigotry and the threats of rage. Rugged old Tertullian, in whose torrid veins the fire of his African deserts seems infused, revels with infernal glee over the contemplation of the sure damnation of the heathen. "At that greatest of all spectacles, the last and eternal judgment," he says, "how shall I admire, how laugh, how rejoice, how exult, when I behold so many proud monarchs groaning in the lowest abyss of darkness; so many magistrates liquefying in fiercer flames than they ever kindled against the Christians; so many sage philosophers blushing in red hot fires with their deluded pupils; so many tragedians more tuneful in the expression of their own sufferings; so many dancers tripping more nimbly from anguish than ever before from applause."2 Hundreds of the most accredited Christian writers have shown the same fiendish spirit. Drexel the Jesuit, preaching of Dives, exclaims, "Instead of a lofty bed of down on which he was wont to repose himself, he now lies frying in the flames; his sparkling wine and delicious dainties are taken from him; he is burnt up with thirst, and has nothing for his food but smoke and sulphur." Jeremy Taylor3 says, in that discourse on the "Pains of Hell" where he has lavished all the stores of his matchless learning and all the wealth of his gorgeous imagination in multiplying and adorning the paraphernalia of torture with infinite accompaniments of unendurable pangs and insufferable abominations, "We are amazed at the inhumanity of Phalaris, who roasted men in his brazen bull: this was joy in respect of that fire of hell which penetrates the very entrails without consuming them;" "husbands shall see their wives, parents shall see their children, tormented before their eyes;" "the bodies of the damned shall be crowded together in hell like grapes in a wine press, which press one another till they burst;" "every distinct sense and organ shall be assailed with its own appropriate and most exquisite sufferings." Christopher Love belying his name says of the damned, "Their cursings are their hymns, howlings their tunes, and blasphemies their ditties." Calvin writes, "Forever harassed with a dreadful tempest, they shall feel themselves torn asunder by an angry God, and transfixed and penetrated by mortal stings, terrified by the thunderbolts of God, and broken by the weight of his hand, so that to sink into any gulfs would be more tolerable than to stand for a moment in these terrors." A living divine, Dr. Gardiner Spring, declares, "When the omnipotent and angry God, who has access to all the avenues of distress in the corporeal frame and all the inlets to agony in the intellectual constitution, undertakes to punish, he will convince the universe that he does not gird himself for the work of retribution in vain;" "it will be a glorious deed when He who hung on Calvary shall cast those who have trodden his blood under their feet, into the furnace of fire, where there shall be weeping and wailing and gnashing of teeth." Thousands of passages like these, and even worse, might easily be collected from Christian authors, dating their utterance from the days of St. Irenaus, Bishop of Lyons, who flamed against the heretics, to the days of Nehemiah Adams, Congregational preacher of Boston, who says, "It is to be feared the forty two children that mocked Elisha are now in hell." 4 There is an unmerciful animus in them, a vindictiveness of thought and feeling, far oh, how far! removed from the meek and loving 2 De Spectaculis, cap. xxx., Gibbon's trans. 3 Contemplations of the State of Man, ch. 6 8. 4 Friends of Christ, p. 149. soul of Jesus, who wept over Jerusalem, and loved the "unevangelical" young lawyer who was "not far from the kingdom of heaven," and yearned towards the penitent Peter, and from the tenderness of his immaculate purity said to the adulteress, "Neither do I condemn thee: go, and sin no more." There are some sectarians in whom the arbitrary narrowness, fierceness, and rigidity of their received creeds have so demoralized and hardened conscience and sensibility in their native healthy directions, and artificially inflamed them in diseased channels, that we verily believe, if the decision of the eternal destiny of the human race were placed in their hands, they would with scarcely a twinge of pain perhaps some of them even with a horrid satisfaction and triumph doom all except their own dogmatic coterie to hell. They are bound to do so. They profess to know infallibly that God will do so: if, therefore, the case being in their arbitration, they would decide differently, they thereby impeach the action of God, confess his decrees irreconcilable with reason and justice, and set up their own goodness as superior to his. Burnet has preserved the plea of Bloody Mary, which was in these words: "As the souls of heretics are hereafter to be eternally burning in hell, there can be nothing more proper than for me to imitate the Divine vengeance by burning them on earth." Thanks be to the infinite Father that our fate is in his hands, and not in the hands of men who are bigots, "Those pseudo Privy Councillors of God, Who write down judgments with a pen hard nibb'd: Ushers of Beelzebub's black rod, Commending sinners, not to ice thick ribb'd, But endless flames to scorch them up like flax, Yet sure of heaven themselves, as if they'd cribb'd The impression of St. Peter's keys in wax!" It may be thought that this doctrine and its awful concomitants, though once promulgated, are now nearly obsolete. It is true that, in thinking minds and generous hearts, they are getting to be repudiated. But by no means is it so in the recognised formularies of the established Churches and in the teachings of the popular clergy. All through the Gentile world, wherever there is a prevailing religion, the threats and horrors of a fearful doctrine of hell are still brandished over the trembling or careless multitudes. In Christendom, the authoritative announcement of the Roman and Greek Churches, and the public creeds confessed by every communicant of all the denominations, save two or three which are comparatively insignificant in numbers, show that the doctrine is yet held without mitigation. The Bishop of Toronto, only a year or two ago, published the authoritative declaration that "every child of humanity, except the Virgin Mary, is from the first moment of conception a child of wrath, hated by the blessed Trinity, belonging to Satan, and doomed to hell!" Indeed, the doctrine, in its whole naked and frightful extent, is necessarily, in strict logic, an integral part of the great system of the popular Christianity, that is, Christianity as falsely interpreted, paganized, and scholasticized. For if by the sin of Adam the entire race were totally depraved and condemned to a hopeless hell, and only those can be saved who personally appropriate by a realizing faith the benefits of the subsequent artifice carried out in the atoning blood of the incarnate God, certainly the extremist advocate of the doctrine concerning hell has not exceeded the truth, and cannot exceed it. All the necessities of logic rebuke the tame hearted theologians, and great Augustine's, great Calvin's, ghost walks unapproached among them, crying out that they are slow and inefficient in describing the enormous sweep of the inherited penalty! Many persons who have not taken pains to examine the subject suppose that the horrifying descriptions given by Christian authors of the state and sufferings of the lost were not intended to be literally received, but were meant as figures of speech, highly wrought metaphors calculated to alarm and impress with physical emblems corresponding only to moral and spiritual realities. The progress of thought and refinement has made it natural that recourse should often be had to such an explanation; but unquestionably it is a mistake. The annals of theology, both dogmatic and homiletic, from the time of the earliest Fathers till now, abound in detailed accounts of the future punishment of the wicked, whereof the context, the train of thought, and all the intrinsic characteristics of style and coherence, do not leave a shadow of doubt that they were written as faithful, though inadequate, accounts of facts. The Church, the immense bulk of Christendom, has in theory always regarded hell and its dire concomitants as material facts, and not as merely spiritual experiences. Tertullian says, "The damned burn eternally without consuming, as the volcanoes, which are vents from the stored subterranean fire of hell, burn forever without wasting." 5 Cyprian declares that "the wretched bodies of the condemned shall simmer and blaze in those living fires." Augustine argues at great length and with ingenious varieties of reasoning to show how the material bodies of the damned may withstand annihilation in everlasting fire.6 Similar assertions, which cannot be figuratively explained, are made by Irenaus, Jerome, Athanasius, Thomas Aquinas, Bonaventura, Gerson, Bernard, and indeed by almost all the Christian writers. Origen, who was a Platonist, and a heretic on many points, was severely condemned for saying that the fire of hell was inward and of the conscience, rather than outward and of the body. For the strict materiality of the fire of hell we might adduce volumes of authorities from nearly every province of the Church. Dr. Barrow asserts that "our bodies will be afflicted continually by a sulphurous flame, piercing the inmost sinews." John Whitaker thinks "the bodies of the damned will be all salted with fire, so tempered and prepared as to burn the more fiercely and yet never consume." Jeremy Taylor teaches that "this temporal fire is but a painted fire in respect of that penetrating and real fire in hell." Jonathan Edwards soberly and believingly writes thus: "The world will probably be converted into a great lake or liquid globe of fire, a vast ocean of fire, in which the wicked shall be overwhelmed, which will always be in tempest, in which they shall be tost to and fro, having no rest day or night, vast waves or billows of fire continually rolling over their heads, of which they shall forever be full of a quick sense within and without: their heads, their eyes, their tongues, their hands, their feet, their loins, and their vitals shall forever be full of a glowing, melting fire, fierce enough to melt the very rocks and elements; and also they shall eternally be full of the most quick and lively sense 5 Apol. cap. 47-48. 6 De Civ. Dei, lib. xxi. cap. 2 4. to feel the torments; not for one minute, nor for one day, nor for one age, nor for two ages, nor for a hundred ages, nor for ten thousands of millions of ages one after another, but for ever and ever, without any end at all, and never, never be delivered." 7 Calvin says, "Iterum quaro, unde factum est, ut tot gentes una cum liberis eorum infantibus aterna morti involveret lapsus Ada absque remedio, nisi quia Deo ita visum est? Decretum horribile fateor." 8 Outraged humanity before the contemplation cries, "O God, horror hath overwhelmed me, for thou art represented as an omnipotent Fiend." It is not the Father of Christ, but his Antagonist, whose face glares down over such a scene as that! The above diabolical passage at the recital of which from the pulpit, Edwards's biographers tell us, "whole congregations shuddered and simultaneously rose to their feet, smiting their breasts, weeping and groaning" is not the arbitrary exaggeration of an individual, but a fair representation of the actual tenets and vividly held faith of the Puritans. It is also, in all its uncompromising literality, a direct and inevitable part of the system of doctrine which, with insignificant exceptions, professedly prevails throughout Christendom at this hour. We know most persons will hesitate at this statement; but let them look at the logic of the case in the light of its history, and they must admit the correctness of the assertion. Weigh the following propositions, the accuracy of which no one, we suppose, will question, and it will appear at once that there is no possibility of avoiding the conclusion. First, it is the established doctrine of Christendom that no one can be saved without a supernatural regeneration, or sincere faith in the vicarious atonement, or valid reception of sacramental grace at the hands of a priest, conditions which it is not possible that one in a hundred thousand of the whole human race has fulfilled. Secondly, it is the established doctrine of Christendom that there will be a general day of judgment, when all men will be raised in the same bodies which they originally occupied on earth, when Christ and his angels will visibly descend from heaven, separate the elect from the reprobate, summon the sheep to the blissful pastures on the right hand, but "Proclaim The flocks of goats to folds of flame." The world is to be burnt up, and the damned, restored to their bodies, are to be driven into the everlasting fire prepared for them. The resurrection of the body, still held in all Christendom, taken in connection with the rest of the associated scheme, necessitates the belief in the materiality of the torments of hell. That eminent living divine, Dr. Gardiner Spring, says, "The souls of all who have died in their sins are in hell; and there their bodies too will be after the resurrection." 9 Mr. Spurgeon also, in his graphic and fearful sermon on the "Resurrection of the Dead," uses the following language: "When thou diest, thy soul will be tormented alone; that will be a hell for it: but at the day of judgment thy body will join thy soul, and then thou wilt have twin hells, thy soul sweating drops of blood, and thy body suffused with agony. In fire exactly like that which we have on earth thy body will lie, 7 Edwards's Works, vol. viii. p. 166. 8 Instit., lib. iii. cap. xxiii. sect. 7. 9 The Glory of Christ, vol. ii. p. 258. asbestos like, forever unconsumed, all thy veins roads for the feet of pain to travel on, every nerve a string on which the devil shall forever play his diabolical tune of Hell's Unutterable Lament!" And, if this doctrine be true, no ingenuity, however fertile in expedients and however fiendish in cruelty, can possibly devise emblems and paint pictures half terrific enough to present in imagination and equal in moral impression what the reality will be to the sufferers. It is easy to speak or hear the word "hell;" but to analyze its significance and realize it in a sensitive fancy is difficult; and whenever it is done the fruit is madness, as the bedlams of the world are shrieking in testimony at this instant. The Revivalist preachers, so far from exaggerating the frightful contents latent in the prevalent dogma concerning hell, have never been able and no man is able to do any thing like justice to its legitimate deductions. Edwards is right in declaring, "After we have said our utmost and thought our utmost, all that we have said and thought is but a faint shadow of the reality." Think of yourselves, seized, just as you are now, and flung into the roaring, glowing furnace of eternity; think of such torture for an instant, multiply it by infinity, and then say if any words can convey the proper force of impression. It is true these intolerable details are merely latent and unappreciated by the multitude of believers; and when one, roused to fanaticism by earnest contemplation of his creed, dares to proclaim its logical consequences and to exhort men accordingly, they shrink, and charge him with excess. But they should beware ere they repudiate the literal horrors of the historic orthodox doctrine for any figurative and moral views accommodated to the advanced reason and refinement of the times, beware how such an abandonment of a part of their system affects the rest. Give up the material fire, and you lose the bodily resurrection. Renounce the bodily resurrection, and away goes the visible coming of Christ to a general judgment. Abandon the general judgment, and the climacteric completion of the Church scheme of redemption is wanting. Mar the wholeness of the redemption plan, and farewell to the incarnation and vicarious atonement. Neglect the vicarious atonement, and down crumbles the hollow and broken shell of the popular theology helplessly into its grave. The old literal doctrine of a material hell, however awful its idea, as it has been set forth in flaming views and threats by all the accredited representatives of the Church, must be uncompromisingly clung to, else the whole popular system of theology will be mutilated, shattered, and lost from sight. The theological leaders understand this perfectly well, and for the most part they act accordingly. We have now under our hand numerous extracts, from writings published within the last five years by highly influential dignitaries in the different denominations, which for frightfulness of outline and coloring, and for unshrinking assertions of literality, will compare with those already quoted. Especially read the following description of this kind from John Henry Newman: "Oh, terrible moment for the soul, when it suddenly finds itself at the judgment seat of Christ, when the Judge speaks and consigns it to the jailers till it shall pay the endless debt which lies against it! 'Impossible! I a lost soul? I separated from hope and from peace forever? It is not I of whom the Judge so spake! There is a mistake somewhere; Christ, Savior, hold thy hand: one minute to explain it! My name is Demas: I am but Demas, not Judas, or Nicholas, or Alexander, or Philetus, or Diotrephes. What! eternal pain for me? Impossible! it shall not be!' And the poor soul struggles and wrestles in the grasp of the mighty demon which has hold of it, and whose every touch is torment. 'Oh, atrocious!' it shrieks, in agony, and in anger too, as if the very keenness of the infliction were a proof of its injustice. 'A second! and a third! I can bear no more! Stop, horrible fiend! give over: I am a man, and not such as thou! I am not food for thee, or sport for thee! I have been taught religion; I have had a conscience; I have a cultivated mind; I am well versed in science and art; I am a philosopher, or a poet, or a shrewd observer of men, or a hero, or a statesman, or an orator, or a man of wit and humor. Nay, I have received the grace of the Redeemer; I have attended the sacraments for years; I have been a Catholic from a child; I died in communion with the Church: nothing, nothing which I have ever been, which I have ever seen, bears any resemblance to thee, and to the flame and stench which exhale from thee: so I defy thee, and abjure thee, O enemy of man!' "Alas! poor soul! and, whilst it thus fights with that destiny which it has brought upon itself and those companions whom it has chosen, the man's name perhaps is solemnly chanted forth, and his memory decently cherished, among his friends on earth. Men talk of him from time to time; they appeal to his authority; they quote his words; perhaps they even raise a monument to his name, or write his history. 'So comprehensive a mind! such a power of throwing light on a perplexed subject and bringing conflicting ideas or facts into harmony!' 'Such a speech it was that he made on such and such an occasion: I happened to be present, and never shall forget it;' or, 'A great personage, whom some of us knew;' or, 'It was a rule with a very worthy and excellent friend of mine, now no more;' or, 'Never was his equal in society, so just in his remarks, so lively, so versatile, so unobtrusive;' or, 'So great a benefactor to his country and to his kind;' or, 'His philosophy so profound.' 'Oh, vanity! vanity of vanities! all is vanity! What profiteth it? What profiteth it? His soul is in hell, O ye children of men! While thus ye speak, his soul is in the beginning of those torments in which his body will soon have part, and which will never die!" 10 Some theologians do not hesitate, even now, to say that "in hell the bodies of the damned shall be nealed, as we speak of glass, so as to endure the fire without being annihilated thereby." "Made of the nature of salamanders," they shall be "immortal kept to feel immortal fire." Well may we take up the words of the Psalmist and cry out of the bottomless depths of disgust and anguish, "I am overwhelmed with horror!" Holding this abhorrent mass of representations, so grossly carnal and fearful, up in the free light of to day, it cannot stand the test of honest and resolute inquiry. It exists only by timid, unthinking sufferance. It is kept alive, among the superstitious vestiges of the outworn and out grown past, only by the power of tradition, authority, and custom. In refutation of it we shall not present here a prolonged detail of learned researches and logical processes; for that would be useless to those who are enslaved to the foregone conclusions of a creed and possessed by invulnerable prejudices, while those who are thoughtful and candid can make 10 Sermon on "Neglect of Divine Calls and warnings." such investigations themselves. We shall merely state, in a few clear and brief propositions, the results in which we suppose all free and enlightened minds who have adequately studied the subject now agree, leaving the reader to weigh these propositions for himself, with such further examination as inclination and opportunity may cause him to bestow upon the matter. We reject the common belief of Christians in a hell which is a local prison of fire where the wicked are to be tortured by material instruments, on the following grounds, appealing to God for the reverential sincerity of our convictions, and appealing to reason for their truth. First, the supposition that hell is an enormous region in the hollow of the earth is a remnant of ancient ignorance, a fancy of poets who magnified the grave into Hades, a thought of geographers who supposed the earth to be flat and surrounded by a brazen expanse bright above and black beneath. Secondly, the soul, on leaving the body, is a spiritual substance, if it be any substance at all, eluding our senses and all the instruments of science. Therefore, in the nature of things, it cannot be chained in a dungeon, nor be cognizant of suffering from material fire or other physical infliction, but its woes must be moral and inward; and the figment that its former fleshly body is to be restored to it is utterly incredible, being an absurdity in science, and not affirmed, as we believe, in Scripture. Thirdly, the imagery of a subterranean hell of fire, brimstone, and undying worms, as used in the Scriptures of the New Testament, is the same as that drawn from heathen sources with modifications and employed by the Pharisees before the time of Christ and his disciples; and we must therefore, since neither Persians nor Pharisees were inspired, either suppose that this imagery was adopted by the apostles figuratively to convey moral truths, or else that they were left, in common with their countrymen, at least partially under the dominion of the errors of their time. Thus in every alternative we deny that the interior of the earth is, or ever will be, an abode of souls, full of fire, a hell in which the damned are to be confined and physically tormented. The elements of the popular doctrine of future punishment which we thus reject are the falsities contributed by superstition and the priestly spirit. The truths remaining in the doctrine, furnished by conscience, reason, and Scripture, we will next exhibit, in order not to dismiss this head, on the nature of future punishment, with negations. What is the real character of the retributions in the future state? We do not think they are necessarily connected with any peculiar locality or essentially dependent on any external circumstances. As Milton says, when speaking of the best theologians, "To banish forever into a local hell, whether in the air, or in the centre, or in that uttermost and bottomless gulf of chaos deeper from holy bliss than the world's diameter multiplied, they thought not a punishment so proper and proportionate for God to inflict as to punish sin with sin." God does not arbitrarily stretch forth his arm, like an enraged and vindictive man, and take direct vengeance on offenders; but by his immutable laws, permeating all beings and governing all worlds, evil is, and brings, its own punishment. The intrinsic substances and forces of character and their organized correlations with the realities of eternity, the ruling principles, habits, and love of the soul, as they stand affected towards the world to which they go, these are the conditions on which experience depends, herein is the hiding of retribution. "Each one," as Origen says, "kindles the flame of his own appropriate fire." Superior spirits must look on a corrupted human soul with a sorrow similar, though infinitely profounder, to that with which the lapidary contemplates a splendid pearl with a dark flaw in its centre. The Koran says, "Men sleep while they live, and when they die they wake." The sudden infliction of pain in the future state comes from the sudden unveiling of secrets, quickening of the moral consciousness, and exposure of the naked soul's fitnesses to the spiritual correspondences of its deserts. It is said, "Death does Away disguise: souls see each other clear, At one glance, as two drops of rain in air Might look into each other had they life." The quality of the soul's character decides the elements of the soul's life; and, as this becomes known on crossing the death drawn line of futurity, conscious retribution then arises in the guilty. This is a retribution which is reasonable, moral, unavoidable, before which we may well pause and tremble. The great moral of it is that we should not so much dread being thrust into an eternal hell as we should fear carrying a hell with us when we go into eternity. It is not so bad to be in hell as to be forced truly to say, "Which way I fly is hell; myself am hell." If these general ideas are correct, it follows even as all common sense and reflection affirm that every real preparation for death and for what is to succeed must be an ingrained characteristic, and cannot consist in a mere opinion, mood, or act. Here we strike at one of the shallowest errors, one of the most extensive and rooted superstitions, of the world. Throughout the immense kingdoms of the East, where the Brahmanic and Buddhist religions hold sway over six hundred millions of men, the notion of yadasanna that is, the merit instantaneously obtained when at the point of death fully prevails. They suppose that in that moment, regardless of their former lives and of their present characters, by bringing the mind and the heart into certain momentary states of thought and feeling, and meditating on certain objects or repeating certain sacred words, they can suddenly obtain exemption from punishment in their next life.11 The notion likewise obtains almost universally among Christians, incredible as it may seem. With the Romanists, who are three fourths of the Christian world, it is a most prominent doctrine, everywhere vehemently proclaimed and acted on: that is the meaning of the sacrament of extreme unction, whereby, on submission to the Church and confession to a priest, the venal sins of the dying man are forgiven, purgatory avoided or lessened, and heaven made sure. The ghost of the King of Denmark complains most of the unwarned suddenness of his murder, not of the murder itself, but of its suddenness, which left him no opportunity to save his soul: "Sleeping, was I by a brother's hand Cut off even in the blossoms of my sin, 11 Hardy, Manual of Buddhism, p. 489. Unhousel'd, disappointed, unanel'd; No reckoning made, but sent to my account With all my imperfections on my head." Hamlet, urged by supernatural solicitings to vengeance, finds his murderous uncle on his knees at prayer. Stealing behind him with drawn sword, he is about to strike the fatal blow, when the thought occurs to him that the guilty man, if killed when at his devotions, would surely go to heaven; and so he refrains until a different opportunity. For to send to heaven the villain who had slain his father, "That would be hire and salary, not revenge. He took my father grossly full of bread, With all his crimes broad blown, as flush as May; And how his audit stands who knows save Heaven? But, in our circumstance and course of thought, 'Tie heavy with him. And am I then revenged To take him in the purging of his soul, When he is fit and season'd for his passage? No; but when he is drunk, asleep, enraged, Or in the incestuous pleasures of his bed, At gaming, swearing, or about some act That has no relish of salvation in't: Then trip him, that his heels may kick at heaven, And that his soul may be as damn'd and black As hell, whereto it goes." This, though poetry, is a fair representation of the mediaval faith held by all Christendom in sober prose. The same train of thought latently underlies the feelings of most Protestants too, though it is true any one would now shrink from expressing it with such frankness and horrible gusto. But what else means the minute morbid anatomy of death beds, the prurient curiosity to know how the dying one bore himself in the solemn passage? How commonly, if one dies without physical anguish, and with the artificial exultations of a fanatic, rejoiceful auguries are drawn! if he dies in physical suffering, and with apparent regret, a gloomy verdict is rendered! It is superstition, absurdity, and injustice, all. Not the accidental physical conditions, not the transient emotions, with which one passes from the earth, can decide his fate, but the real good or evil of his soul, the genuine fitness or unfitness of his soul, his soul's inherent merits of bliss or bale. There is no time nor power in the instant of death, by any magical legerdemain, to turn away the impending retributions of wickedness and guilt. What is right, within the conditions of Infinite wisdom and goodness, will be done in spite of all traditional juggles and spasmodic spiritual attitudinizations. What can it avail that a most vile and hardened wretch, when dying, convulsed with fright and possessed with superstition, compels, or strives to compel, a certain sentiment into his soul, conjures, or tries to conjure, his mind into the relation of belief towards a certain ancient and abstract dogma? "Yet I've seen men who meant not ill, Compelling doctrine out of death, With hell and heaven acutely poised Upon the turning of a breath." Cruelly racking the soul with useless probes of theological questions and statements, they stand by the dying to catch the words of his last breath, and, in perfect consistence with their faith, they pronounce sentence accordingly. If, as the pallid lips faintly close, they hear the magic words, "I put my trust in the atoning blood of Christ," up goes the soul to heaven. If they hear the less stereotyped words, "I have tried to do as well as I could: I hope God will be merciful towards me and receive me," down goes the soul to hell. Strange and cruel superstition, that imagines God to act towards men only according to the evanescent temper and technical phrase with which they leave the world! The most popular English preacher of the present day, the Rev. Mr. Spurgeon, after referring to the fable that those before whom Perseus held the head of Medusa were turned into stone in the very act and posture of the moment when they saw it, says, "Death is such a power. What I am when death is held before me, that I must be forever. When my spirit goes, if God finds me hymning his praise, I shall hymn it in heaven: doth he find me breathing out oaths, I shall follow up those oaths in hell. As I die, so shall I live eternally!" 12 No: the true preparation for death and the invisible realm of souls is not the eager adoption of an opinion, the hurried assumption of a mood, or the frightened performance of an outward act: it is the patient culture of the mind with truth, the pious purification of the heart with disinterested love, the consecrated training of the life in holiness, the growth of the soul in habits of righteousness, faith, and charity, the organization of divine principles into character. Every real preparation of the soul for death must be a characteristic rightly related to the immortal realities to which death is the introduction of the soul. An evil soul is not thrust into a physical and fiery hell, fenced in and roofed over from the universal common; but it is revealed to itself, and consciously enters on retributive relations. In the spiritual world, whither all go at death, we suppose that like perceives like, and thus are they saved or damned, having, by the natural attraction and elective seeing of their virtues or vices, the beatific vision of God, or the horrid vision of iniquity and terror. It cannot be supposed that God is a bounded shape so vast as to fill the entire circuits of the creation. Spirit transcends the categories of body, and it is absurd to apply the language of finite things to the illimitable One, except symbolically. When we die, we do not sink or soar to the realm of spirits, but are in it, at once, everywhere; and the resulting experience will depend on the prevailing elements of our moral being. If we are bad, our badness is our banishment from God; if we are good, our goodness is our union with God. In every world the true nature and law of retribution lie in the recoil of conduct on character, and the assimilated results ensuing. Take a soul that is saturated with the rottenness of depravity into the core of heaven, and it is in the heart of hell still. Take a soul that is compacted of divine 12 Sermons, 3d Series. Sermon XIV., Thoughts on the Last Battle. realities to the very bottom of hell, and heaven is with it there. We are treading on eternity, and infinitude is all around us. Now, as well as hereafter, to us, the universe is action, the soul is reaction, experience is the resultant. Death but unveils the facts. Pass that great crisis, in the passage becoming conscious of universal realities and of individual relations to them, and the Father will say to the discordant soul, "Alienated one, incapable of my embrace, change and come to me;" to the harmonious soul, "Son, thou art ever with me, and all that I have is thine." Having thus considered the question as to the nature of future punishments, it now remains to discuss the question concerning their duration. The fact of a just and varied punishment for souls we firmly believe in. The particulars of it in the future, or the degrees of its continuance, we think, are concealed from the present knowledge of man. These details we do not profess to be able to settle much about. We have but three general convictions on the subject. First, that these punishments will be experienced in accordance with those righteous and inmost laws which indestructibly express the mind of God and rule the universe, and will not be vindictively inflicted through arbitrary external penalties. Secondly, that they will be accurately tempered to the just deserts and qualifications of the individual sufferers. And thirdly, that they will be alleviated, remedial, and limited, not unmitigated, hopeless, and endless. Upon the first of these thoughts perhaps enough has already been said, and the second and third may be discussed together. Our business, therefore, in the remainder of this dissertation, is to disprove, if truth in the hands of reason and conscience will enable us to disprove, the popular dogma which asserts that the state of the condemned departed is a state of complete damnation absolutely eternal. Against that form of representing future punishment which makes it unlimited by conceiving the destiny of the soul to be an eternal progress, in which their initiative steps of good or evil in this life place different souls under advantages or disadvantages never relatively to be lost, we have nothing to object. It is reasonable, in unison with natural law, and not frightful.13 But we are to deal, if we fairly can, a refutation against the doctrine of an intense endless misery for the wicked, as that doctrine is prevailingly taught and received. The advocates of eternal damnation primarily plant themselves upon the Christian Scriptures, and say that there the voice of an infallible inspiration from heaven asserts it. First of all, let us examine this ground, and see if they do not stand there only upon erroneous premises sustained by prejudices. In the beginning, then, we submit to candid minds that, if the literal eternity of future torment be proclaimed in the New Testament, it is not a part of the revelation contained in that volume; it is not a truth revealed by inspiration; and that we maintain for this reason. The same representations of the everlasting duration of future punishment in hell, the same expressions for an unlimited duration, which occur in the New Testament, were previously employed by the Hindus, Greeks, and Pharisees, who were not inspired, but must have drawn the doctrine from fallible sources. Now, to say the least, it is as reasonable to suppose that these expressions, when found in the New Testament, were 13 Lessing, Ueber Leibnitz von den Ewigen Strafen. employed by the Saviour and the evangelists in conformity with the prevailing thought and customary phraseology of their time, as to conclude that they were derived from an unerring inspiration. The former is a natural and reasonable inference; the latter is a gratuitous hypothesis for which we have never heard of any evidence. If its advocates will honestly attempt really to prove it, we are convinced they will be forced to renounce it. The only way they continue to hold it is by taking it for granted. If, therefore, the strict eternity of future woe be declared in the New Testament, we regard it not as a part of the inspired utterance of Jesus, but as an error which crept in among others from the surrounding notions of a benighted pagan age. But, in the next place, we do not admit by any means that the literal eternity of future damnation is taught in the Scriptures. On the contrary, we deny such an assertion, for several reasons. First, we argue from the usage of language before the New Testament was written. The Egyptians, Hindus, Greeks, often make most emphatic use of phrases declaring the eternal sufferings of the wicked in hell; but they must have meant by "eternal" only a very long time, because a fundamental portion of the great system of thought on which their religions rested was the idea of recurring epochs, sundered by immense periods statedly arriving, when all things were restored, the hells and heavens vanished away, and God was all in all. If the representations of the eternal punishment of the wicked, made before the New Testament was written, were not significant, with metaphysical severity, of an eternity of duration, but only, with popular looseness, of an extremely long period, the same may be true of the similar expressions found in that record. Secondly, we argue from the usage of language in and after the New Testament age. The critics have collected, as any one desirous may easily find, and as every theological scholar well knows, scores of instances from the writings of authors contemporary with Christ and his apostles, and succeeding them, where the Greek word for "eternal" is used popularly, not strictly, in a rhetorical, not in a philosophical, sense, not denoting a duration literally endless, but one very prolonged. In all Greek literature the word is undoubtedly used in a careless and qualified sense at least a hundred times where it is used once with its close etymological force. And the same is true of the corresponding Hebrew term. The writer of the "Testaments of the Twelve Patriarchs," at the close of every chapter, describing the respective patriarch's death, says, "he slept the eternal sleep," though by "eternal" he can only mean a duration reaching to the time of the resurrection, as plainly appears from the context. Iamblichus speaks of "an eternal eternity of eternities."14 Origen, and Gregory of Nyssa, and others, the fact of whose belief in final universal salvation no one pretends to deny, do not hesitate with earnestness and frequency to affirm the "eternal" punishment of the wicked in hell. Now, if the contemporaries of the evangelists, and their successors, often used the word "eternal" popularly, in a figurative, limited sense, then it may be so employed when it occurs in the New Testament in connection with the future pains of the bad. Thirdly, we argue from the phraseology and other peculiarities of the representation of the future woe of the condemned, given in the New Testament itself, that its authors 14 De Mysteriis Egyptiorum, cap. viii. sect. 10. did not consciously intend to proclaim the rigid endlessness of that woe.15 "These shall go away into everlasting punishment." Since the word "everlasting" was often used simply to denote a long period, what right has any one to declare that here it must mean an absolutely unending duration? How does any one know that the mind of Jesus dialectically grasped the metaphysical notion of eternity and deliberately intended to express it? Certainly the intrinsic probabilities are all the other way. Such a conclusion is hardly compatible with the highly tropical style of speech employed throughout the discourse. Besides, had he wished to convey the overwhelming idea that the doom of the guilty would be strictly irremediable, their anguish literally infinite, would he not have taken pains to say so in definite, guarded, explained, unmistakable terms? He might easily, by a precise prosaic utterance, by explanatory circumlocutions, have placed that thought beyond possibility of mistake. Fourthly, we have an intense conviction not only that the leaving of such a doctrine by the Savior in impenetrable obscurity and uncertainty is irreconcilable with the supposition of his deliberately holding it in his belief, but also that a belief in the doctrine itself is utterly irreconcilable with the very essentials of his teachings and spirit, his inmost convictions and life. He taught the infinite and unchangeable goodness of God: confront the doctrine of endless misery with the parable of the prodigal son. He taught the doctrine of unconquerable forgiveness, without apparent qualification: bring together the doctrine of never relenting punishment and his petition on the cross, "Father, forgive them." He taught that at the great judgment heaven or hell would be allotted to men according to their lives; and the notion of endless torment does not rest on the demerit of sinful deeds, which is the standard of judgment that he holds up, but on conceptions concerning a totally depraved nature, a God inflamed with wrath, a vicarious atonement rejected, or some other ethnic tradition or ritual consideration equally foreign to his mind and hostile to his heart. Fifthly, if we reason on the popular belief that the letter of Scripture teaches only unerring truth, we have the strongest argument of all against the eternal hopelessness of future punishment. The doctrine of Christ's descent to hell underlies the New Testament. We are told that after his death "he went and preached to the spirits in prison." And again we read that "the gospel was preached also to them that are dead." This New Testament idea was unquestionably a vital and important feature in the apostolic and in the early Christian belief. It necessarily implies that there is probation, and that there may be salvation, after death. It is fatal to the horrid dogma which commands all who enter hell to abandon every gleam of hope, utterly and forever. The symbolic force of the doctrine of Christ's descent and preaching in hell is this, as Guder says in his "Appearance of Christ among the Dead," that the deepest and most horrible depth of damnation is not too deep and horrible for the pitying love which wishes to save the lost: even into the veriest depth of hell reaches down the love of God, and his beatific call sounds to the most distant distances. There is no outermost darkness to which his heavenly and all conquering light cannot shine. The book which teaches that Christ went even into hell itself, to seek and to save that which was lost, 15 Corrodi, Ueber die Ewigkeit der Hollenetrafen. In den Beitragen zur Beforderung des Vernunft. Denk. n. s. w. heft vii. ss. 41-72. does not teach that from the instant of death the fate of the wicked is irredeemably fixed. Upon the whole, then, we reach the clear conclusion that the Christian Scriptures do not really declare the hopeless eternity of future punishment.16 They speak popularly, not scientifically, speak in metaphors which cannot be analyzed and reduced to metaphysical precision. The subject is left with fearful warnings in an impressive obscurity. There we must either leave it, in awe and faith, undecided; or, if not content to do that, we must examine and decide it on other grounds than those of traditional authority, and with other instruments than those of textual interpretation. Let us next sift and weigh the arguments from reason by which the dogma of the eternity of future misery is respectively defended and assailed. The advocates of it have sought to support it by four positions, which are such entire assumptions that only a word will be requisite to expose each of them to logical rejection. First, it is said that sin is infinite and deserves an infinite penalty because it is an outrage against an infinite being.17 A more absurd perversion of logic than this, a more glaring violation of common sense, was never perpetrated. It directly reverses the facts and subverts the legitimate inference. Is the sin measured by the dignity of the lawgiver, or by the responsibility of the law breaker? Does justice heed the wrath of the offended, or the guilt of the offender? As well say that the eye of man is infinite because it looks out into infinite space, as affirm that his sin is infinite because committed against an infinite God. That man is finite, and all his acts finite, and consequently not in justice to be punished infinitely, is a plain statement of fact which compels assent. All else is empty quibbling, scholastic jugglery. The ridiculousness of the argument is amusingly apparent as presented thus in an old Miracle Play, wherein Justice is made to tell Mercy "That man, havinge offended God who is endlesse, His endlesse punchement therefore may nevyr seese." The second device brought forward to sustain the doctrine in question is more ingenious, but equally arbitrary. It is based on the foreknowledge of God. He foresaw that the wicked, if allowed to live on earth immortally in freedom, would go on forever in a course of constant sin. They were therefore constructively guilty of all the sin which they would have committed; but he saved the world the ravages of their actual crimes by hurling them into hell beneath the endless penalty of their latent infinite guilt. In reply to those who argue thus, it is obvious to ask, whence did they learn all this? There is no such scheme drawn up or hinted in Scripture; and surely it is not within the possible discoveries of reason. Plainly, it is not a known premise legitimating a result, not a sound argument proving a conclusion: it is merely a conceit, devised to explain and fortify a theory already embraced from other considerations. It is an imaginative hypothesis without confirmation. 16 Bretschneider, in his Systematische Entwickelung aller in der Dogmatik vorkommenden Begriffe, gives the literature of this subject in a list of thirty six distinct works. Sect. 139, Ewig keit der Hollenstrafen. 17 Thomas Aquinas, Summa, pars iii. suppl. qu. 99, art. 1. Thirdly, it has been said that future punishment will be endless because sin will be so. The evil soul, growing ever more evil, getting its habits of vice and passions of iniquity more deeply infixed, and surrounded in the infernal realm with all the incentives to wickedness, will become confirmed in depravity beyond all power of cure, and, sinning forever, be necessarily damned and tortured forever. The same objection holds to this argument as to the former. Its premises are daring assumptions beyond the province of our knowledge. They are assumptions, too, contrary to analogy, probability, the highest laws of humanity, and the goodness of God. Without freedom of will there cannot be sin; and those who retain moral freedom may reform, cease to do evil and learn to do good. There are invitations and opportunities to change from evil to good here: why not hereafter? The will is free now: what shall suddenly paralyze or annihilate that freedom when the soul leaves the body? Why may not such amazing revelations be made, such regenerating motives be brought to bear, in the spiritual world, as will soften the hardest, convince the stubbornest, and, sooner or later, transform and redeem the worst? It is true the law of sinful habit is dark and fearful; but it is frequently neutralized. The argument as the support of a positive dogma is void because itself only hypothetical. Some have tried to prove eternal condemnation by an assumed necessity of moral gravitation. There is a great deal of loose and hasty talk afloat about the law of affinities distributing souls hereafter in fitted companies. Similar characters will spontaneously come together. The same qualities and grades of sympathy will coalesce, the unlike will fly apart. And so all future existence will be arranged in circles of dead equality on stagnant levels of everlasting hopelessness of change. The law of spiritual attraction is no such force as that, produces no such results. It is broken up by contrasts, changes, multiplicity of other interacting forces. We are not only drawn by affinity to those like ourselves, but often still more powerfully, with rebuking and redeeming effect, to those above us that we may become like them, to those beneath us that we may pity and help them. The law of affinity is not in moral beings a simple force necessitating an endless uniformity of state, but a complex of forces, sometimes mingling the unlike by stimulants of wedded similarity and contrast to bless and advance all, now punishing, now rewarding, but ever finally intended to redeem. Reasoning by sound analogy, the heavens and hells of the future state are not monotonous circles each filled with mutually reflecting personalities, but one fenceless spiritual world of distinctive, ever varying degrees, sympathetic and contrasted life, circulating freshness, variety of attractions and repulsions, divine advancement. Finally, it is maintained by many that endless misery is the fate of the reprobate because such is the sovereign pleasure of God. This is no argument, but a desperate assertion. It virtually confesses that the doctrine cannot be defended by reason, but is to be thrown into the province of wilful faith. A host of gloomy theologians have taken this ground as the forlorn hope of their belief. The damned are eternally lost because that is the arbitrary decree of God. Those who thus abandon reason for dogmatic authority and trample on logic with mere reiterated assertion can only be met with the flat denial, such is not the arbitrary pleasure of God. Then, as far as argument is concerned, the controversy ends where it began. These four hypotheses include all the attempted justifications of the doctrine of eternal misery that we have ever seen offered from the stand point of independent thought. We submit that, considered as proofs, they are utterly sophistical. There are three great arguments in refutation of the endlessness of future punishment, as that doctrine is commonly held. The first argument is ethical, drawn from the laws of right; the second is theological, drawn from the attributes of God; the third is experimental, drawn from the principles of human nature. We shall subdivide these and consider them successively. In the first place, we maintain that the popular doctrine of eternal punishment is unjust, because it overlooks the differences in the sins of men, launching on all whom it embraces one infinite penalty of undiscriminating damnation. The consistent advocates of the doctrine, the boldest creeds, unflinchingly avow this, and defend it by the plea that every sin, however trivial, is equally an offence against the law of the infinite God with the most terrible crime, and equally merits an infinite punishment. Thus, by a metaphysical quibble, the very basis of morals is overturned, and the child guilty of an equivocation through fear is put on a level with the pirate guilty of robbery and murder through cold blooded avarice and hate. In a hell where all are plunged in physical fire for eternity there are no degrees of retribution, though the degrees of evil and demerit are as numerous and various as the individuals. The Scriptures say, "Every man shall receive according to the deeds done in the body:" some "shall be beaten with many stripes," others "with few stripes." The first principle of justice exact discrimination of judgment according to deeds and character is monstrously violated and all differences blotted out by the common dogma of hell. A better thought is shown in the old Persian legend which tells that God once permitted Zoroaster to accompany him on a visit to hell. The prophet saw many in grievous torments. Among the rest, he saw one who was deprived of his right foot. Asking the meaning of this, God replied, "Yonder sufferer was a king who in his whole life did but one kind action. Passing once near a dromedary which, tied up in a state of starvation, was vainly striving to reach some provender placed just beyond its utmost effort, the king with his right foot compassionately kicked the fodder within the poor beast's reach. That foot I placed in heaven: the rest of him is here." 18 Again: there is the grossest injustice in the first assumption or fundamental ground on which the theory we are opposing rests. That theory does not teach that men are actually damned eternally on account of their own personal sins, but on account of original sin: the eternal tortures of hell are the transmitted penalty hurled on all the descendants of Adam, save those who in some way avoid it, in consequence of his primal transgression. Language cannot characterize with too much severity, as it seems to us, the injustice, the immorality, involved in this scheme. The belief in a sin, called "original," entailed by one act of one person upon a whole immortal race of countless millions, dooming vast majorities of them helplessly to a hopeless torture prison, can rest only on a sleep of reason and a delirium of 18 Wilson's ed. of Mill's Hist. of British India, vol. i. p. 429, note. conscience. Such a "sin" is no sin at all; and any penalty inflicted on it would not be the necessary severity of a holy God, but a species of gratuitous vengeance. For sin, by the very essence of ethics, is the free, intelligent, wilful violation of a law known to be right; and every punishment, in order to be just, must be the suffering deserved by the intentional fault, the personal evil, of the culprit himself. The doctrine before us reverses all this, and sends untold myriads to hell forever for no other sin than that of simply having been born children of humanity. Born totally depraved, hateful to God, helpless through an irresistible proclivity to sin and an ineradicable aversion to evangelical truth, and asked to save themselves, asked by a mockery like that of fettering men hand and foot, clothing them in leaden straitjackets, and then flinging them overboard, telling them not to drown! What justice, what justice, is here in this? Thirdly, the profound injustice of this doctrine is seen in its making the alternative of so unutterably awful a doom hinge upon such trivial particulars and upon merely fortuitous circumstances. One is born of pious, orthodox parents, another of heretics or infidels: with no difference of merit due to them, one goes to heaven, the other goes to hell. One happens to form a friendship with an evangelical believer, another is influenced by a rationalist companion: the same fearful diversity of fate ensues. One is converted by a single sermon: if he had been ill that day, or had been detained from church by any other cause, his fated bed would have been made in hell, heaven closed against him forever. One says, "I believe in the Trinity of God, in the Deity of Christ;" and, dying, he goes to heaven. Another says, "I believe in the Unity of God and in the humanity of Christ:" he, dying, goes to hell. Of two children snatched away by disease when twenty four hours old, one has been baptized, the other not: the angels of heaven welcome that, the demons of hell clutch this. The doctrine of infant damnation, intolerably painful as it is, has been proclaimed thousands of times by authoritative teachers and by large parties in the Church, and is a logical sequence from the popular theology. It is not a great many years since people heard, it is said, the celebrated statement that "hell is paved with the skulls of infants not a span long!" Think of the everlasting bliss or misery of a helpless infant depending on the petty accident of whether it was baptized or not! There are hypothetical cases like the following: If one man had died a year earlier, when he was a saint, he would not have fallen from grace, and renounced his faith, and rolled in crimes, and sunk to hell. If another had lived a year later, he would have been smitten with conviction, and would have repented, and made his peace, and gone to heaven. To the everlasting loss of each, an eternity of bliss against an eternity of woe hung fatally poised on the time appointed for him to die. Oh how the bigoted pride, the exclusive dogmatism of self styled saints, self flatterers equally satisfied of their own election and of the rejection of almost everybody else, ought to sink and fade when they reflect on the slight chances, mere chances of time and place, by which the infinite contingency has been, or is to be, decided! They should heed the impregnable good sense and logic conveyed in the humane hearted poet's satirical humor when he advises such persons to "Consider well, before, like Hurlothrumbo, They aim their clubs at any creed on earth, That by the simple accident of birth They might have been high priests to Mumbo Jumbo." It is evidently but the rankest mockery of justice to suspend an infinite woe upon an accident out of the power of the party concerned. Still further: there is a tremendous injustice even in that form of the doctrine of endless punishment, the most favorable of all, which says that no one is absolutely foreordained to hell, but that all are free, and that life is a fixed season of probation wherein the means of salvation are offered to all, and if they neglect or spurn them the fault is their own, and eternal pain their merited portion. The perfectly apparent inconsistency of this theory with known facts is fatal to it, since out of every generation there are millions on millions of infants, idiots, maniacs, heathen, within whose hearing or power the means of salvation by a personal appropriation of the atoning merit of Christ's blood were never brought; so that life to them is no scene of Christian probation. But, waiving that, the probation is not a fair one to anybody. If the indescribable horror of an eternal damnation be the consequence that follows a certain course while we are on trial in this life, then a knowledge of that fact in all its bearings ought to be given us, clear, explicit, beyond any possibility of mistake or doubt. Otherwise the probation is not fair. To place men in the world, as millions are constantly placed, beset by allurements of every sort within and without, led astray by false teachings and evil examples, exposed in ignorance, bewildered with uncertainties of conflicting doubts and surmises, either never hearing of the way of salvation at all, or hearing of it only in terms that seem absurd in themselves and unaccompanied by sufficient, if by any, proof, and then, if under these fearful hazards they waver from strict purity of heart, rectitude of conduct, or orthodoxy of belief, to condemn them to a world of everlasting agony, would be the very climax of cruelty, with no touch of mercy or color of right. Beneath such a rule the universe should be shrouded in the blackness of despair, and God be thought of with a convulsive shudder. Such a "probation" would be only like that on which the Inquisitors put their victims who were studiously kept ignorant in their dungeons, waiting for the rack and the flame to be made ready. Few persons will deny that, as the facts now are, a good, intelligent, candid man may doubt the reality of an endless punishment awaiting men in hell. But if the doctrine be true, and he is on probation under it, is it fair that he should be left honestly in ignorance or doubt about it? No: if it be true, it ought to be burned into his brain and crushed into his soul with such terrific vividness and abiding constancy of impression as would deter him ever from the wrong path, keep him in the right. A distinguished writer has represented a condemned delinquent, suffering on, and still interminably on, in hell, thus complaining of the unfairness of his probation: "Oh, had it been possible for me to conceive even the most diminutive part of the weight and horror of this doom, I should have shrunk from every temptation to sin, with the most violent recoil."19 19 John Foster, Letter on the Eternity of Future Punishments. If an endless hell is to be the lot of the sinner, he ought to have an infallible certainty of it, with all possible helps and incentives to avoid it. Such is not the case; and therefore, since God is just and generous, the doctrine is not true. Finally, the injustice of the dogma of everlasting punishment is most emphatically shown by the fact that there is no sort of correspondence or possible proportion between the offence and the penalty, between the moment of sinning life and the eternity of suffering death. If a child were told to hold its breath thirty seconds, and, failing to do it, should be confined in a dark solitary dungeon for seventy years amidst loathsome horrors and speechless afflictions, and be frightfully scourged six times a day for that entire period, there would be just proportion nay, an inexpressibly merciful proportion between the offence and the punishment, in comparison with that which, being an absolutely infinite disproportion, does not really admit of any comparison, the sentence to an eternal abode in hell as a penalty for the worst kind and the greatest amount of crime a man could possibly crowd into a life of a thousand years. Think, then, of passing such a sentence on one who has struggled hard against temptation, and yielded but rarely, and suffered much, and striven to do as well as he could, and borne up courageously, with generous resolves and affections, and died commending his soul to God in hope. "Fearfully fleet is this life," says one, "and yet in it eternal life is lost or won: profoundly wretched is this life, yet in it eternal bliss is lost or won." Weigh the words adequately, and say how improbable is the thought, and how terribly unjust. Perhaps there have already lived upon this earth, and died, and passed into the invisible world, two hundred thousand millions of men, the everlasting doom of every one of whom, it is imagined, was fixed unalterably during the momentary period of his mortal transit from cradle to grave. In respect of eternity, six thousand years and this duration must be reduced to threescore years and ten, since that is all that each generation enjoyed is the same as one hour. Suppose, now, that all these two hundred thousand millions of men were called into being at once; that they were placed on probation for one hour; that the result of their choice and action in that hour was to decide their irrevocable fate, actually forever, to ecstatic bliss or to ecstatic woe; that during that hour they were left, as far as clear and stable conviction goes, in utter ignorance and uncertainty as to the great realities of their condition, courted by opposing theories and modes of action; and that, when the clock of time knelled the close of that awful, that most evanescent hour, the roaring gulf of torture yawned, and its jaws of flame and blackness closed over ninety nine hundredths of them for eternity! That is a fair picture of the popular doctrine of temporal probation and eternal punishment, when examined in the light of the facts of human life. Of course, no man at this day, who is in his senses and thinks honestly upon the subject, can credit such a doctrine, unless indeed he believes that a lawless fiend sits on the throne of the universe and guides the helm of destiny. And lives there a man of unperverted soul who would not decidedly prefer to have no God rather than to have such a one? Ay, "Rather than so, come FATE into the list And champion us to the utterance." Let us be atheists, and bow to mortal Chance, believe there is no pilot at all at the rudder of Creation's vessel, no channel before the prow, but the roaring breakers of despair to right and left, and the granite bluff of annihilation full in front! In the next place, then, we argue against the doctrine of eternal damnation that it is incompatible with any worthy idea of the character of God. God is love; and love cannot consent to the useless torture of millions of helpless souls for eternity. The gross contradiction of the common doctrine of hell to the spirit of love is so obvious that its advocates, unable to deny or conceal it, have often positively proclaimed it, avowing that, in respect to the wicked, God is changed into a consuming fire full of hatred and vengeance. But that is unmitigated blasphemy. God is unchangeable, his very nature being disinterested, immutable goodness. The sufferings of the wicked are of their own preparation. If a pestilential exhalation is drawn from some decaying substance, it is not the fault of any alteration in the sunlight. But a Christian writer assures us that when "the damned are packed like brick in a kiln, so bound that they cannot move a limb nor even an eyelid, God shall blow the fires of hell through them for ever and ever." And another writer says, "All in God is turned into fury: in hell he draws out into the field all his forces, all his attributes, whereof wrath is the leader and general."20 Such representations may be left without a comment. Every enlightened mind will instantly reject with horror the doctrine which necessitates a conception of God like that here pictured forth. God is a being of infinite forgiveness and magnanimity. To the wandering sinner, even while a great way off, his arms are open, and his inviting voice, penetrating the farthest abysses, says, "Return." His sun shines and his rain falls on the fields of the unjust and unthankful. What is it, the instant mortals pass the line of death, that shall transform this Divinity of yearning pity and beneficence into a devil of relentless hate and cruelty? It cannot be. We shall find him dealing towards us in eternity as he does here. An eminent theologian says, "If mortal men kill the body temporally in their anger, it is like the immortal God to damn the soul eternally in his." "God holds sinners in his hands over the mouth of hell as so many spiders; and he is dreadfully provoked, and he not only hates them, but holds them in utmost contempt, and he will trample them beneath his feet with inexpressible fierceness, he will crush their blood out, and will make it fly so that it will sprinkle his garments and stain all his raiment."21 Oh, ravings and blasphemies of theological bigotry, blinded with old creeds, inflamed with sectarian hate, soaked in the gall of bitterness, encompassed by absurd delusions, you know not what you say! A daring writer of modern times observes that God can never say from the last tribunal, in any other than a limited and metaphorical sense, "Depart from me, ye cursed, into everlasting fire," because that would not be doing as he would be done by. Saving the appearance of irreverence, we maintain his assertion to be just, based on impregnable morality. A recent religious poet describes Jesus, on descending into hell after his crucifixion, 20 For these and several other quotations we are indebted to the Rev. T. J. Sawyer's work, entitled "Endless Punishment: its Origin and Grounds Examined." 21 Edwards's works, vol. vii. p. 499. meeting Judas, and when he saw his pangs and heard his stifled sobs, "Pitying, Messiah gazed, and had forgiven, But Justice her eternal bar opposed." 22 The instinctive sentiment is worthy of Jesus, but the deliberate thought is worthy of Calvin. Why is it so calmly assumed that God cannot pardon, and that therefore sinners must be given over to endless pains? By what proofs is so tremendous a conclusion supported? Is it not a gratuitous fiction of theologians? The exemplification of God's character and conduct given in the spirit, teachings, and deeds of Christ is full of a free mercy, an eager charity that rushes forward to forgive and embrace the sinful and wretched wanderers. He is a very different being whom the evangelist represents saying of Jesus, "This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased," from Him whom Professor Park describes "drawing his sword on Calvary and smiting down his Son!" Why may not pardon from unpurchased grace be vouchsafed as well after death as before? What moral conditions alter the case then? Ah! it is only the metaphysical theories of the theologians that have altered the case in their fancies and made it necessary for them to limit probation. The attributes of God are laws, his modes of action are the essentialities of his being, the same in all the worlds of boundless extension and all the ages of endless duration. How far some of the theologians have perverted the simplicity of the gospel, or rather how utterly they have strayed from it, may be seen when we remember that Christ said concerning little children, "Of such is the kingdom of heaven," and then compare with this declaration such a statement as this: "Reprobate infants are vipers of vengeance which Jehovah will hold over hell in the tongs of his wrath, till they writhe up and cast their venom in his face." We deliberately assert that no depraved, insane, pagan imagination ever conceived of a fiend malignant and horrible enough to be worthily compared with this Christian conception of God. Edwards repeatedly says, in his two sermons on the "Punishment of the Wicked" and "Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God," "You cannot stand an instant before an infuriated tiger even: what, then, will you do when God rushes against you in all his wrath?" Is this Christ's Father? The God we worship is "the Father of lights, with whom there is neither variableness nor shadow of turning, from whom cometh down every good and every perfect gift." It is the Being referred to by the Savior when he said, in exultant trust and love, "I am not alone; for the Father is with me." It is the infinite One to whom the Psalmist says, "Though I make my bed in hell, behold, thou art there." If God is in hell, there must be mercy and hope there, some gleams of alleviation and promise there, surely; even as the Lutheran creed says that "early on Easter morning, before his resurrection, Christ showed himself to the damned in hell." If God is in hell, certainly it must be to soothe, to save. "Oh, no," says the popular theologian. Let us quote his words. "Why is God here? To keep the tortures of the damned freshly plied, and to see that no one ever escapes!" Can the climax of horror and 22 Lord, Christ in Hades. blasphemy any further go? How much more reasonable, more moral and Christ like, to say, with one of the best authors of our time, "What hell may be I know not: this I know: I cannot lose the presence of the Lord: One arm humility takes hold upon His dear Humanity; the other love Clasps his Divinity: so, where I go He goes; and better fire wall'd Hell with him Than golden gated Paradise without." The irreconcilableness of the common doctrine of endless misery with any worthy idea of God is made clear by a process of reasoning whose premises are as undeniable as its logic is irrefragable and its conclusion consolatory. God is infinite justice and goodness. His purpose in the creation, therefore, must be the diffusion and triumph of holiness and blessedness. God is infinite wisdom and power. His design, therefore, must be fulfilled. Nothing can avail to thwart the ultimate realization of all his intentions. The rule of his omnipotent love pervades infinitude and eternity as a shining leash of law whereby he holds every child of his creation in ultimate connection with his throne, and will sooner or later bring even the worst soul to a returning curve from the career of its wildest orbit. In the realm and under the reign of a paternal and omnipotent God every being must be salvable. Remorse itself is a recoil which may fling the penitent into the lap of forgiving love. Any different thought appears narrow, cruel, heathen. The blackest fiend that glooms the midnight air of hell, bleached through the merciful purgation of sorrow and loyalty, may become a white angel and be drawn into heaven. Lavater writes of himself, and the same is true of many a good man, "I embraced in my heart all that is called man, past, present, and future times and nations, the dead, the damned, even Satan. I presented them all to God with the warmest wishes that he would have mercy upon all." This is the true spirit of a good man. And is man better than his Maker? We will answer that question, and leave this head of the discussion, by presenting an Oriental apologue. God once sat on his inconceivable throne, and far around him, rank after rank, angels and archangels, seraphim and cherubim, resting on their silver wings and lifting their dazzling brows, rose and swelled, with the splendors of an illimitable sea of immortal beings, gleaming and fluctuating to the remotest borders of the universe. The anthem of their praise shook the pillars of the creation, and filled the vault of heaven with a pulsing flood of harmony. When, as they closed their hymn, stole up, faint heard, as from some most distant region of all space, in dim accents humbly rising, a responsive "Amen." God asked Gabriel, "Whence comes that Amen?" The hierarchic peer replied, "It rises from the damned in hell." God took, from where it hung above his seat, the key that unlocks the forty thousand doors of hell, and, giving it to Gabriel, bade him go release them. On wings of light sped the enraptured messenger, rescued the millions of the lost, and, just as they were, covered all over with the traces of their sin, filth, and woe, brought them straight up into the midst of heaven. Instantly they were transformed, clothed in robes of glory, and placed next to the throne; and henceforth, for evermore, the dearest strain to God's ear, of all the celestial music, was that borne by the choir his grace had ransomed from hell. And, because there is no envy or other selfishness in heaven, this promotion sent but new thrills of delight and gratitude through the heights and depths of angelic life. We come now to the last class of reasons for disbelieving the dogma of eternal damnation, namely, those furnished by the principles of human nature and the truths of human experience. The doctrine, as we think can be clearly shown, is literally incredible to the human mind and literally intolerable to the human heart. In the first place, it is, viewed in the abstract, absolutely incredible because it is inconceivable: no man can possibly grasp and appreciate the idea. The nearest approximation to it ever made perhaps is in De Quincey's gorgeous elaboration of the famous Hindu myth of an enormous rock finally worn away by the brushing of a gauze veil; and that is really no approximation at all, since an incommensurable chasm always separates the finite and the infinite. John Foster says, "It is infinitely beyond the highest archangel's faculty to apprehend a thousandth part of the horror of the doom to eternal damnation." The Buddhists, who believe that the severest sentence passed on the worst sinner will be brought to an end and his redemption be attained, use the following illustration of the staggering periods that will first elapse. A small yoke is thrown into the ocean and borne about in every direction by the various winds. Once in a hundred thousand years a blind tortoise rises to the surface of the water. Will the time ever come when that tortoise shall so rise up that its neck shall enter the hole of the yoke? It may, but the time required cannot be told; and it is equally difficult for the unwise man, who has entered one of the great hells, to obtain deliverance. There is a remarkable specimen of the attempt to set forth the idea of endless misery, by Suso, a mystic preacher who flourished several centuries ago. It runs thus. "O eternity, what art thou? Oh, end without end! O father, and mother, and all whom we love! May God be merciful unto you for evermore! for we shall see you no more to love you; we must be separated forever! O separation, everlasting separation, how painful art thou! Oh, the wringing of hands! Oh, sighing, weeping, and sobbing, unceasing howling and lamenting, and yet never to be pardoned! Give us a millstone, says the damned, as large as the whole earth, and so wide in circumference as to touch the sky all around, and let a little bird come in a hundred thousand years, and pick off a small particle of the stone, not larger than the tenth part of a grain of millet, and after another hundred thousand years let him come again, so that in ten hundred thousand years he would pick off as much as a grain of millet, we wretched sinners would desire nothing but that thus the stone might have an end, and thus our pains also; yet even that cannot be."23 But, after all the struggles of reason and all the illustrations of laboring imagination, the meaning of the phrase "eternal suffering in hell" remains remote, dim, unrealized, an abstraction in words. If we could adequately apprehend it, if its full significance should burst upon us, as sometimes in fearful dreams the spaceless, timeless, phantasmal, reeling sense of 23 Hagenbach, Dogmengeschichte, sect. 210. the infinite seems to be threatening to break into the brain, an annihilating shudder would seize and destroy the soul. We say, therefore, that the doctrine of the eternity of future punishment is not believed as an intellectually conceived truth, because that is a metaphysical impossibility. But more: we affirm, in spite of the general belief in it publicly professed, that it is actually held by hardly any one as a practical vivid belief even within the limits wherein, as an intellectual conception, it is possible. When intellect and imagination do not fail, heart and conscience do, with sickened faintness and convulsive protest. In his direful poem on the Last Day, Young makes one of the condemned vainly beg of God to grant "This one, this slender, almost no, request: When I have wept a thousand lives away, When torment is grown weary of its prey, When I have raved of anguish'd years in fire Ten thousand thousands, let me then expire." Such a thought, when confronted with any generous holy sentiment or with any worthy conception of the Divine character, is practically incredible. The men all around us in whose Church creed such a doctrine is written down do not truly believe it. "They delude themselves," as Martineau well says, "with the mere fancy and image of a belief. The death of a friend who departs from life in heresy affects them in the same way as the loss of another whose creed was unimpeachable: while the theoretic difference is infinite, the practical is virtually nothing." Who that had a child, parent, wife, brother, or other precious friend, condemned to be roasted to death by a slow fire, would not be frantic with agony? But there are in the world literally millions on millions, some of whose nearest and dearest ones have died under circumstances which, by their professed creeds, can leave no doubt that they must roast in the fires of hell in an anguish unutterably fiercer, and for eternity, and yet they go about as smilingly, engage in the battle for money, in the race for fame, in all the vain shows and frivolous pleasures of life, as eagerly and as gayly as others. How often do we see the literal truth of this exemplified! It is clear they do not believe in the dogma to whose technical terms they formally subscribe. A small proportion of its professors do undeniably believe the doctrine so far as it can be sanely believed; and accordingly the world is to them robed in a sable shroud, and life is an awful mockery, under a flashing surface of sports concealing a bottomless pit of horror. Every observing person has probably known some few in his life who, in a degree, really believed the common notions concerning hell, and out of whom, consequently, all geniality, all bounding impulses, all magnanimous generosities, were crushed, and their countenances wore the perpetual livery of mourning, despair, and misanthropy. We will quote the confessions of two persons who may stand as representatives of the class of sincere believers in the doctrine. The first is a celebrated French preacher of a century and a half ago, the other a very eminent American divine of the present day. Saurin says, in his great sermon on Hell, "I sink under the weight of this subject, and I find in the thought a mortal poison which diffuseth itself into every period of my life, rendering society tiresome, nourishment insipid, pleasure disgustful, and life itself a cruel bitter." Albert Barnes writes, "In the distress and anguish of my own spirit, I confess I see not one ray to disclose to me the reason why man should suffer to all eternity. I have never seen a particle of light thrown on these subjects that has given a moment's ease to my tortured mind. It is all dark dark dark to my soul; and I cannot disguise it." Such a state of mind is the legitimate result of an endeavor sincerely to grasp and hold the popularly professed belief. So often as that endeavor reaches a certain degree of success, and the idea of an eternal hell is reduced from its vagueness to an embraced conception, the over fraught heart gives way, the brain, stretched on too high a tension, reels, madness sets in, and one more case is added to that list of maniacs from religious causes which, according to the yearly reports of insane asylums, forms so large a class. Imagine what a vast and sudden change would come over the spirit and conduct of society if nineteen twentieths of Christendom believed that at the end of a week a horrible influx of demons, from some insurgent region, would rush into our world and put a great majority of our race to death in excruciating tortures! But the doctrine of future punishment professed by nineteen twentieths of Christendom is, if true, an evil incomparably worse than that, though every element of its dreadfulness were multiplied by millions beyond the power of numeration; and yet all goes on as quietly, the most of these fancied believers live as chirpingly, as if heaven were sure for everybody! Of course in their hearts they do not believe the terrific formula which drops so glibly from their tongues. Again: it is a fatal objection to the doctrine in question that if it be true it must destroy the happiness of the saved and fill all heaven with sympathetic woe. Jesus teaches that "there is joy in heaven over every sinner that repenteth." By a moral necessity, then, there is sorrow in heaven over the wretched, lost soul. That sorrow, indeed, may be alleviated, if not wholly quenched, by the knowledge that every retributive pang is remedial, and that God's glorious design will one day be fully crowned in the redemption of the last prodigal. But what shall solace or end it if they know that hell's borders are to be enlarged and to rage with avenging misery forever? The good cannot be happy in heaven if they are to see the ascending smoke and hear the resounding shrieks of a hell full of their brethren, the children of a common humanity, among whom are many of their own nearest relatives and dearest friends. True, a long list of Christian writers may be cited as maintaining that this is to be a principal element in the felicity of the redeemed, gloating over the tortures of the damned, singing the song of praise with redoubled emphasis as they see their parents, their children, their former bosom companions, writhing and howling in the fell extremities of torture. Thomas Aquinas says, "That the saints may enjoy their beatitude and the grace of God more richly, a perfect sight of the punishment of the damned is granted to them."24 Especially did the Puritans seem to revel in this idea, that "the joys of the blessed were to be deepened and sharpened by constant contrast with the sufferings of the damned." One of them thus expresses the delectable thought: "The sight of hell torments will exalt the happiness of the saints forever, as a sense of the opposite misery always increases the relish of any pleasure." 24 Summa, pars iii., Suppl. Qu. 93, art. i. But perhaps Hopkins caps the climax of the diabolical pyramid of these representations, saying of the wicked, "The smoke of their torment shall ascend up in the sight of the blessed for ever and ever, and serve, as a most clear glass always before their eyes, to give them a bright and most affecting view. This display of the Divine character will be most entertaining to all who love God, will give them the highest and most ineffable pleasure. Should the fire of this eternal punishment cease, it would in a great measure obscure the light of heaven and put an end to a great part of the happiness and glory of the blessed."25 That is to say, in plain terms, the saints, on entering their final state of bliss in heaven, are converted into a set of unmitigated fiends, out sataning Satan, finding their chief delight in forever comparing their own enjoyments with the pangs of the damned, extracting morsels of surpassing relish from every convulsion or shriek of anguish they see or hear. It is all an exquisite piece of gratuitous horror arbitrarily devised to meet a logical exigency of the theory its contrivers held. When charged that the knowledge of the infinite woe of their friends in hell must greatly affect the saints, the stern old theologians, unwilling to recede an inch from their dogmas, had the amazing hardihood to declare that, so far from it, on the contrary their wills would so blend with God's that the contemplation of this suffering would be a source of ecstasy to them. It is doubly a blank assumption of the most daring character, first assuming, by an unparalleled blasphemy, that God himself will take delight in the pangs of his creatures, and secondly assuming, by a violation of the laws of human nature and of every principle of morals, that the elect will do so too. In this world a man actuated by such a spirit would be styled a devil. On entering heaven, what magic shall work such a demoniacal change in him? There is not a word, direct or indirect, in the Scriptures to warrant the dreadful notion; nor is there any reasonable explanation or moral justification of it given by any of its advocates, or indeed conceivable. The monstrous hypothesis cannot be true. Under the omnipotent, benignant government of a paternal God, each change of character in his chosen children, as they advance, must be for the better, not for the worse. We once heard a father say, running his fingers the while among the golden curls of his child's hair, "If I were in heaven, and saw my little daughter in hell, should not I be rushing down there after her?" There spoke the voice of human nature; and that love cannot be turned to hatred in heaven, but must grow purer and intenser there. The doctrine which makes the saints pleased with contemplating the woes of the damned, and even draw much of their happiness from the contrast, is the deification of the absolute selfishness of a demon. Human nature, even when left to its uncultured instincts, is bound to far other and nobler things. Radbod, one of the old Scandinavian kings, after long resistance, finally consented to be baptized. After he had put one foot into the water, he asked the priest if he should meet his forefathers in heaven. Learning that they, being unbaptized pagans, were victims of endless misery, he drew his foot back, and refused the rite, choosing to be with his brave ancestors in hell rather than to be in heaven with the Christian priests. And, speaking from the stand point of the highest refinement of feeling and virtue, who that has a heart in his 25 Park, Memoir of Hopkins, pp. 201, 202. bosom would not say, "Heaven can be no heaven to me, if I am to look down on the quenchless agonies of all I have loved here!" Is it not strictly true that the thought that even one should have endless woe "Would cast a shadow on the throne of God And darken heaven"? If a monarch, possessing unlimited power over all the earth, had condemned one man to be stretched on a rack and be freshly plied with incessant tortures for a period of fifty years, and if everybody on earth could hear his terrible shrieks by day and night, though they were themselves all, with this sole exception, blessed with perfect happiness, would not the whole human race, from Spitzbergen to Japan, from Rio Janeiro to Liberia, rise in a body and go to implore the king's clemency for the solitary victim? So, if hell had but one tenant doomed to eternal anguish, a petition reaching from Sirius to Alcyone, signed by the universe of moral beings, borne by a convoy of angels representing every star in space, would be laid and unrolled at the foot of God's throne, and He would read thereon this prayer: "FORGIVE HIM, AND RELEASE HIM, WE BESEECH THEE, O GOD." And can it be that every soul in the universe is better than the Maker and Father of the universe? The popular doctrine of eternal torment threatening nearly all our race is refuted likewise by the impossibility of any general observance of the obligations morally and logically consequent from it. In the first place, as the world is constituted, and as life goes on, the great majority of men are upon the whole happy, evidently were meant to be happy. But every believer of the doctrine in debate is bound to be unutterably wretched. If he has any gleam of generous sentiment or touch of philanthropy in his bosom, if he is not a frozen petrifaction of selfishness or an incarnate devil, how can he look on his family, friends, neighbors, fellow citizens, fellow beings, in the light of his faith seeing them quivering over the dizzy verge of a blind probation and momentarily dropping into the lake of fire and brimstone that burns forever, how can he do this without being ceaselessly stung with wretchedness and crushed with horror by the perception? For a man who appreciatingly believes that hell is directly under our meadows, streets, and homes, and that nine tenths of the dead are in it, and that nine tenths of the living soon will be, for such a man to be happy and jocose is as horrible as it would be for a man, occupying the second story of a house, to light it up brilliantly with gas, and make merry with his friends, eating tidbits, sipping wine, and tripping it on the light fantastic toe to the strains of gay music, while, immediately under him, men, women, and children, including his own parents and his own children, were stretched on racks, torn with pincers, lacerated with surgical instruments, cauterized, lashed with whips of fire, their half suppressed shrieks and groans audibly rising through the floor! Secondly, if the doctrine be true, then all unnecessary worldly enterprises, labors, and studies should at once cease. One moment on earth, and then, accordingly as we spend that moment, an eternity in heaven or in hell: in heaven, if we succeed in placating God by a sound belief and ritual proprieties; in hell, if we are led astray by philosophy, nature, and the attractions of life! On these suppositions, what time have we for any thing but reciting our creed, meditating on the atonement, and seeking to secure an interest for ourselves with God by flouting at our carnal reason, praying in church, and groaning, "Lord, Lord, have mercy on us miserable sinners"? What folly, what mockery, to be searching into the motions of the stars, and the occult forces of matter, and the other beautiful mysteries of science! There will be no astronomy in hell, save vain speculations as to the distance between the nadir of the damned and the zenith of the saved; no chemistry in hell, save the experiments of infinite wrath in distilling new torture poisons in the alembics of memory and depositing fresh despair sediments in the crucibles of hope. If Calvin's doctrine be true, let no book be printed, save the "Westminster Catechism;" no calculation be ciphered, save how to "solve the problem of damnation;" no picture be painted, save "pictures of hell;" no school be supported, save "schools of theology;" no business be pursued, save "the business of salvation." What have men who are in imminent peril, who are in truth almost infallibly sure, of being eternally damned the next instant, what have they to do with science, literature, art, social ambition, or commerce? Away with them all! Lures of the devil to snare souls are they! The world reflecting from every corner the lurid glare of hell, who can do any thing else but shudder and pray? "Who could spare any attention for the vicissitudes of cotton and the price of shares, for the merits of the last opera and the bets upon the next election, if the actors in these things were really swinging in his eye over such a verge as he affects to see?" Thirdly, those who believe the popular theory on this subject are bound to live in cheap huts, on bread and water, that they may devote to the sending of missionaries among the heathen every cent of money they can get beyond that required for the bare necessities of life. If our neighbor were perishing of hunger at our door, it would be our duty to share with him even to the last crust we had. How much more, then, seeing millions of our poor helpless brethren sinking ignorantly into the eternal fires of hell, are we bound to spare no possible effort until the conditions of salvation are brought within the reach of every one! An American missionary to China said, in a public address after his return, "Fifty thousand a day go down to the fire that is not quenched. Six hundred millions more are going the same road. Should you not think at least once a day of the fifty thousand who that day sink to the doom of the lost?" The American Board of Commissioners of Foreign Missions say, "To send the gospel to the heathen is a work of great exigency. Within the last thirty years a whole generation of five hundred millions have gone down to eternal death." Again: the same Board say, in their tract entitled "The Grand Motive to Missionary Effort," "The heathen are involved in the ruins of the apostasy, and are expressly doomed to perdition. Six hundred millions of deathless souls on the brink of hell! What a spectacle!" How a man who thinks the heathen are thus sinking to hell by wholesale through ignorance of the gospel can live in a costly house, crowded with luxuries and splendors, spending every week more money on his miserable body than he gives in his whole life to save the priceless souls for which he says Christ died, is a problem admitting but two solutions. Either his professed faith is an unreality to him, or else he is as selfish as a demon and as hard hearted as the nether millstone. If he really believed the doctrine, and had a human heart, he must feel it to be his duty to deny himself every indulgence and give his whole fortune and earnings to the missionary fund. And when he had given all else, he ought to give himself, and go to pagan lands, proclaiming the means of grace until his last breath. If he does not that, he is inexcusable. Should he attempt to clear himself of this obligation by adopting the theory of predestination, which asserts that all men were unconditionally elected from eternity, some to heaven, others to hell, so that no effort can change their fate, logical consistency reduces him to an alternative more intolerable in the eyes of conscience and common sense than the other was. For by this theory the gates of freedom and duty are hoisted, and the dark flood of antinomian consequences rushes in. All things are fated. Let men yield to every impulse and wish. The result is fixed. We have nothing to do. Good or evil, virtue or crime, alter nothing. Fourthly, if the common doctrine of eternal damnation be true, then surely no more children should be brought into the world: it is a duty to let the race die out and cease. He who begets a child, forcing him to run the fearful risk of human existence, with every probability of being doomed to hell at the close of earth, commits a crime before whose endless consequences of horror the guilt of fifty thousand deliberate murders would be as nothing. For, be it remembered, an eternity in hell is an infinite evil; and therefore the crime of thrusting such a fate on a single child, with the unasked gift of being, is a crime admitting of no just comparison. Rather than populate an everlasting hell with human vipers and worms, a hell whose fires, alive and wriggling with ghastly shapes of iniquity and anguish, shall swell with a vast accession of fresh recruits from every generation, rather than this, let the sacred lights on the marriage altar go out, no more bounding forms of childhood be seen in cottage or hall, the race grow old, thin out, and utterly perish, all happy villages be overgrown, all regal cities crumble down, and this world roll among the silent stars henceforth a globe of blasted deserts and rank wildernesses, resonant only with the shrieks of the wind, the yells of wild beasts, and the thunder's crash. Fifthly, there is one more conclusion of moral duty deducible from the prevalent theory of infinite torment. It is this. God ought not to have permitted Adam to have any children. Let us not seem presumptuous and irreverent in speaking thus. We are merely reasoning on the popular theory of the theologians, not on any supposition of our own or on any truth; and by showing the absurdity and blasphemy of the moral consequences and duties flowing from that theory, the absurdity, blasphemy, and incredibility of the theory itself appear. We are not responsible for the irreverence, but they are responsible for it who charge God with the iniquity which we repel from his name. If the sin of Adam must entail total depravity and an infinite penalty of suffering on all his posterity, who were then certainly innocent because not in existence, then, we ask, why did not God cause the race to stop with Adam, and so save all the needless and cruel woe that would otherwise surely be visited on the lengthening line of generations? Or, to go still further back, why did he not, foreseeing Adam's fall, refrain from creating even him? There was no necessity laid on God of creating Adam. No positive evil would have been done by omitting to create him. An infinite evil, multiplied by the total number of the lost, was done by creating him. Why, then, was he not left in peaceful nonentity? On the Augustinian theory we see no way of escaping this awful dilemma. Who can answer the question which rises to heaven from the abyss of the damned? "Father of mercies, why from silent earth Didst thou awake and curse me into birth, Push into being a reverse of thee, And animate a clod with misery?" Satan is a sort of sublime Guy Fawkes, lurking in the infernal cellar, preparing the train of that stupendous Gunpowder Plot by which he hopes, on the day of judgment, to blow up the world parliament of unbelievers with a general petard of damnation. Will the King connive at this nefarious prowler and permit him to carry out his design? The doctrine of eternal damnation, as it has prevailed in the Christian Church, appears to the natural man so unreasonable, immoral, and harrowingly frightful, when earnestly contemplated, that there have always been some who have shrunk from its representations and sought to escape its conclusions. Many of its strongest advocates in every age have avowed it to be a fearful mystery, resting on the inscrutable sovereignty of God, and beyond the power of man's faculties to explain and justify. The dogma has been eluded in two ways. Some have believed in the annihilation of the wicked after they should have undergone just punishment proportioned to their sins. This supposition has had a considerable number of advocates. It was maintained, among others, by Arnobius, at the close of the third century, by the Socini, by Dr. Hammond, and by some of the New England divines.26 All that need be said in opposition to it is that it is an arbitrary device to avoid the intolerable horror of the doctrine of endless misery, unsupported by proof, extremely unsatisfactory in many of its bearings, and really not needed to achieve the consummation desired. Others have more wisely maintained that all will finally be saved: however severely and long they may justly suffer, they will at last all be mercifully redeemed by God and admitted to the common heaven. Defenders of the doctrine of ultimate universal salvation have appeared from the beginning of Christian history.27 During the last century and a half their numbers have rapidly increased.28 A dignified and influential class of theologians, represented by such names as Tillotson. Bahrdt, and Less, say that the threats of eternal punishment, in the Scriptures, are exaggerations to deter men from sin, and that God will not really execute them, but will mercifully abate and limit them.29 Another class of theologians, much more free, consistent, and numerous, base their reception of the doctrine of final restoration on figurative explanations of the scriptural language seemingly opposed to it, and on arguments drawn from the character of God, from reason, and from morals. This view of the subject is spreading fast. All independent, genial, and cultivated thought naturally leads to it. The central principles of the gospel necessitate it. The spirit of the age cries for it. Before it the old antagonistic dogma must fall and perish from respect. Dr. Spring says, in reference to the hopeless condemnation of the wicked to hell, "It puts in requisition all our confidence 26 This theory bas been resuscitated and advocated within a few years by quite a number of writers, among whom may be specified the Rev. C. F. Hudson, author of "Debt and Grace," a learned, earnest, and able work, pervaded by an admirable spirit. 27 Ballou, Ancient History of Universalism. 28 Whittemore, Modern History of Universalism. 29 Knapp, Christian Theology, Woods's translation, sect. 158. in God to justify this procedure of his government."30 A few devout and powerful minds have sought to avoid the gross horrors and unreasonableness of the usual view of this subject, by changing the mechanical and arithmetical values of the terms for spiritual and religious values. They give the word "eternity" a qualitative instead of a quantitative meaning. The everlasting woe of the damned consists not in mechanical inflictions of torture and numerical increments of duration, but in spiritual discord, alienation from God, a wretched state of being, with which times and spaces have nothing to do.31 How much better were it for the advocates of the popular theory, instead of forcing their moral nature to bear up against the awful perplexities and misgivings as to the justice and goodness of God necessarily raised in them whenever they really face the dark problems of their system of faith,32 resolutely to ask whether there are any such problems in the actual government of God, or anywhere else, except in their own "Bodies of Divinity"! It is an extremely unfortunate and discreditable evasion of responsibility when any man, especially when a teacher, takes for granted the received formularies handed down to him, and, instead of honestly analyzing their genuine significance and probing their foundations to see if they be good and true, spends his genius in contriving excuses and supports for them. It is the very worst policy at this day to strive to fasten the dogma of eternal misery to the New Testament. If both must be taken or rejected together, an alternative which we emphatically deny, what sincere and earnest thinker now, whose will is unterrifiedly consecrated to truth, can be expected to hesitate long? The doctrine is sustained in repute at present principally for two reasons. First, because it has been transmitted to us from the Church of the past as the established and authoritative doctrine. It is yet technically current and popular because it has been so: that is, it retains its place simply by right of possession. The question ought to be sincerely and universally raised whether it is true or false. Then it will swiftly lose its prestige and disappear. Secondly, it is upheld and patronized by many as a useful instrument for frightening the people and through their fears deterring them from sin. We have ourselves heard clergymen of high reputation say that it would never do to admit, before the people, that there is any chance whatever of penitence and salvation beyond the grave, because they would be sure to abuse the hope as a sort of permission to indulge and continue in sin. Thus to ignore the only solemn and worthy standard of judging an abstract doctrine, namely, Is it a truth or a falsehood? and put it solely on grounds of working expediency, is disgraceful, contemptible, criminal. Watts exposes with well merited rebuke a gross instance of pious frail in Burnet, who advised preachers to teach the eternity of future punishment whether they believed it or not.33 It is by such a course that error and superstition reign, that truckling conformity, intellectual disloyalty, moral indifference, vice, and infidelity, abound. It is practical atheism, debauchery of conscience, and genuine spiritual 30 Glory of Christ, vol. ii. p. 268. 31 Lange, Positive Dogmatik, sect. 131: Die Aeonen der Verdammten. Maurice, Theological Essays: Future Punishment. 32 See Beecher's Conflict of Ages, b. ii. ch. 4, 13. 33 World to Come, Disc. XIII. death. Besides, the course we are characterizing is actually as inexpedient in practice as it is wrong in theory. Experience and observation show it to be as pernicious in its result as it is immoral in its origin. Is a threat efficacious over men in proportion to its intrinsic terror, or in proportion as it is personally felt and feared by them? Do the menacing penalties of a sin deter a man from it in proportion to their awfulness, or in proportion to his belief in their reality and unavoidableness? Eternal misery would be a threat of infinite frightfulness, if it were realized and believed. But it is incredible. Some reject it with indignation and an impetuous recoil that sends them much too far towards antinomianism. Others let it float in the spectral background of imagination, the faint reflection of a disagreeable and fading dream. To all it is an unreality. An earnest belief in a sure retribution exactly limited to desert must be far more effective. If an individual had a profound conviction that for every sin he committed he must suffer a million centuries of inexpressible anguish, realizing that thought, would he commit a sin? If he cannot appreciate that enormous penalty, much less can he the infinite one, which is far more likely to shade off and blur out into a vague and remote nothing. Truth is an expression of God's will, which we are bound exclusively to accept and employ regardless of consequences. When we do that, God, the author of truth, is himself solely responsible for the consequences. But when, thinking we can devise something that will work better, we use some theory of our own, we are responsible for the consequences. Let every one beware how he ventures to assume that dread responsibility. It is surely folly as well as sin. For nothing can work so well as truth, the simple, calm, living truth, which is a chime in the infinite harmony of morals and things. It is only the morbid melodramatic tastes and incompetencies of an unfinished culture that make men think otherwise. The magnificent poetry of the day of judgment an audience of five hundred thousand millions gathered in one throng as the Judge rises to pronounce the last oration over a dissolving universe takes possession of the fancy, and people conceive it so vividly, and are so moved by it, that they think they see it to be true. Grant for a moment the truth of the conception of hell as a physical world of fiery torture full of the damned. Suppose the scene of probation over, hell filled with its prisoners shut up, banished and buried in the blackest deeps of space. Can it be left there forever? Can it be that the roar of its furnace shall rage on, and the wail of the execrable anguish ascend, eternally? Endeavor to realize in some faint degree what these questions mean, and then answer. If anybody can find it in his heart or in his head to say yes, and can gloat over the idea, and wish to have it continually brandished in terrorem over the heads of the people, one feels impelled to declare that he of all men the most needs to be converted to the Christian spirit. An unmitigated hell of depravity, pain, and horror, would be Satan's victory and God's defeat; for the very wish of a Satanic being must be for the everlasting prevalence of sin and wretchedness. As above the weltering hosts of the lost, each dreadful second, the iron clock of hell ticked the thunder word "eternity," how would the devil on his sulphurous dais shout in triumph! But if such a world of fire, crowded with the writhing damned, ever existed at all, could it exist forever? Could the saved be happy and passive in heaven when the muffled shrieks of their brethren, faint from the distance, fell on their ears? In tones of love and pity that would melt the very mountains, they would plead with God to pardon and free the lost. Many a mourning lover would realize the fable of the Thracian poet who wandered into Hades searching for his Eurydice; many a heroic son would emulate the legend of the Grecian god who burst through the iron walls of Tartarus and rescued his mother, the unfortunate Semele, and led her in triumph up to heaven. Could the angels be contented when they contemplated the far off lurid orb and knew the agonies that fed its conscious conflagration? Their gentle bosoms would be racked with commiserating pangs, they would fly down and hover around that anguished world, to moisten its parched tongues with the dropping of their sympathetic tears and to cool its burning brows with the fanning of their wings. Could Christ be satisfied? he who once was rich but for our sakes became poor? he whose loving soul breathed itself forth in the tender words, "Come unto me, all ye that labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest"? he who poured his blood on Judea's awful summit, be satisfied? Not until he had tried the efficacy of ten thousand fresh crucifixions, on as many new Calvaries, would he rest. Could God suffer it? God! with the full rivers of superfluous bliss rolling around thy throne, couldst thou look down and hear thy creatures calling thee Father, and see them plunging in a sea of fire eternally eternally eternally and never speak the pardoning word? It would not be like thee, it would be like thine adversary to do that. Not so wouldst thou do. But if Satan had millions of prodigals, snatched from the fold of thy family, shut up and tortured in hell, paternal yearnings after them would fill thy heart. Love's smiles would light the dread abyss where they groan. Pity's tears would fall over it, shattered by the radiance into rainbows. And through that illumination THOU wouldst descend, marching beneath the arch of its triumphal glories to the rescue of thy children! Therefore we rest in hope, knowing that "Thou wilt not leave our souls in hell." CHAPTER V. THE FIVE THEORETIC MODES OF SALVATION. THE conceptions and fore feelings of immortality which men have entertained have generally been accompanied by a sense of uncertainty in regard to the nature of that inheritance, by a perception of contingent conditions, yielding a twofold fate of bliss and woe, poised on the perilous hinge of circumstance or freedom. Almost as often and profoundly, indeed, as man has thought that he should live hereafter, that idea has been followed by the belief that if, on the one hand, salvation gleamed for him in the possible sky, on the other hand perdition yawned for him in the probable abyss. Heaven and Hell are the light side and shade side of the doctrine of a future life. Few questions are more interesting, as none can be more important, than that inquiry which is about the salvation of the soul. The inherent reach of this inquiry, and the extent of its philosophical and literary history, are great. But, by arranging under certain heads the various principal schemes of salvation which Christian teachers have from time to time presented for popular acceptance, and passing them before the mind in order and in mutual lights, we can very much narrow the space required to exhibit and discuss them. When the word "salvation" occurs in the following investigation, it means unless something different be shown by the context the removal of the soul's doom to misery beyond the grave, and the securing of its future blessedness. Heaven and hell are terms employed with wide latitude and fluctuating boundaries of literal and figurative meaning; but their essential force is simply a future life of wretchedness, a future life of joy; and salvation, in its prevailing theological sense, is the avoidance of that and the gaining of this. We shall not attempt to present the different theories of redemption in their historical order of development, or to give an exhaustive account of their diversified prevalence, but shall arrange them with reference to the most perspicuous exhibition of their logical contents and practical bearings. The first scheme of Christian salvation to be noticed is the one by which it is represented that the interference and suffering of Christ, in itself, unconditionally saved all souls and emptied hell forever. This theory arose in the minds of those who received it as the natural and consistent completion of the view they held concerning the nature and consequences of the fall of Adam, the cause and extent of the lost state of man. Adam, as the federal head of humanity, represented and acted for his whole race: the responsibility of his decision rested, the consequences of his conduct would legitimately descend, it was thought, upon all mankind. If he had kept himself obedient through that easy yet tremendous probation in Eden, he and all his children would have lived on earth eternally in perfect bliss. But, violating the commandment of God, the burden of sin, with its terrible penalty, fell on him and his posterity. Every human being was henceforth to be alien from the love of goodness and from the favor of God, hopelessly condemned to death and the pains of hell. The sin of Adam, it was believed, thoroughly corrupted the nature of man, and incapacitated him from all successful efforts to save his soul from its awful doom. The infinite majesty of God's will, the law of the universe, had been insulted by disobedience. The only just retribution was the suffering of an endless death. The adamantine sanctities of God's government made forgiveness impossible. Thus all men were lost, to be the prey of blackness, and fire, and the undying worm, through the remediless ages of eternity. Just then God had pity on the souls he had made, and himself came to the rescue. In the person of Christ, he came into the world as a man, and freely took upon himself the infinite debt of man's sins, by his death on the cross expiated all offences, satisfied the claims of offended justice, vindicated the inexpressible sacredness of the law, and, at the same time, opened a way by which a full and free reconciliation was extended to all. When the blood of Jesus flowed over the cross, it purchased the ransom of every sinner. As Jerome says, "it quenched the flaming sword at the entrance of Paradise." The weary multitude of captives rose from their bed, shook off the fetters and stains of the pit, and made the cope of heaven snowy with their white winged ascent. The prison house of the devil and his angels should be used no more to confine the guilty souls of men.1 Their guilt was all washed away in the blood of the Lamb. Their spirits, without exception, should follow to the right hand of the Father, in the way marked out by the ascending Redeemer. This is the first form of Universalism, the form in which it was held by several of the Fathers in the earlier ages of the Church, and by the pioneers of that doctrine in modern times. Cyril of Jerusalem says, "Christ went into the under world alone, but came out with many." 2 Cyril of Alexandria says that when Christ ascended from the under world he "emptied it, and left the devil there utterly alone." 3 The opinion that the whole population of Hades was released, is found in the lists of ancient heresies.4 It was advanced by Clement, an Irish priest, antagonist of Boniface the famous Archbishop of Mentz, in the middle of the eighth century. He was deposed by the Council of Soissons, and afterwards anathematized by Pope Zachary. Gregory the Great also refers in one of his letters with extreme severity to two ecclesiastics, contemporaries of his own, who held the same belief. Indeed, this conclusion is a necessary result of a consistent development of the creed of the Orthodox Church, so called. By the sin of one, even Adam, through the working of absolute justice, hell became the portion of all, irrespective of any fault or virtue of theirs; so, by the voluntary sacrifice, the infinite atonement, of one, even Christ, through the unspeakable mercy of God, salvation was effected for all, irrespective of any virtue or fault of theirs. One member of the scheme is the exact counterpoise of the other; one doctrine cries out for and necessitates the other. Those who accept the commonly received dogmas of original sin, total depravity, and universal condemnation entailed upon all men in lineal descent from Adam, and the dogmas of the Trinity, the Incarnation, and the Vicarious Atonement, are bound, by all the constructions of logic, to accept the scheme of salvation just set forth, namely, that the death of Christ secured the deliverance of all unconditionally. We do not believe that doctrine, only because we do not believe the other associated doctrines out of which it springs and of whose system it is the complement. 1 Doederlein, De Redemptione a Potestate Diaboli. In Opuse. Theolog. 2 Catechesis xis. 9. 3 De Festis Paschalibus, homilia vii. 4 Augustine, De Haresibus, lxxix. The reasons why we do not believe that our race fell into helpless depravity and ruin in the sin of the first man are, in essence, briefly these: First, we have never been able to perceive any proof whatever of the truth of that dogma; and certainly the onus probandi rests on the side of such an assumption. It arose partially from a misinterpretation of the language of the Bible; and so far as it has a basis in Scripture, we are compelled by force of evidence to regard it as a Jewish adoption of a pagan error without authority. Secondly, this doctrinal system seems to us equally irreconcilable with history and with ethics: it seems to trample on the surest convictions of reason and conscience, and spurn the clearest principles of nature and religion, to blacken and load the heart and doom of man with a mountain of gratuitous horror, and shroud the face and throne of God in a pall of wilful barbarity. How can men be guilty of a sin committed thousands of years before they were born, and deserve to be sent to hopeless hell for it? What justice is there in putting on one sinless head the demerits of a world of reprobates, and then letting the criminal go free because the innocent has suffered? A third objection to this whole view an objection which, if sustained, will utterly annihilate it is this: It is quite possible that, momentous as is the part he has played in theology, the Biblical Adam is not at all a historical personage, but only a significant figment of poetry. The common belief of the most authoritative men of science, that the human race has existed on this earth for a vastly longer period than the Hebrew statement affirms, may yet be completely established. It may also yet be acknowledged that each distinct race of men had its own Adam.5 Then the dogmatic theology, based on the fall of our entire race into perdition in its primary representative, will, of course, crumble. The second doctrine of Christian salvation is a modification and limitation of the previous one. This theory, like the former, presupposes that a burden of original sin and natural depravity transmitted from the first man had doomed, and, unless prevented in some supernatural manner, would forever press, all souls down to the realms of ruin and woe; also that an infinite graciousness in the bosom of the Godhead led Christ to offer himself as an expiation for the sins, an atoning substitute for the condemnation, of men. But, according to the present view, this interference of Christ did not by itself save the lost: it only removed the otherwise insuperable bar to forgiveness, and presented to a chosen portion of mankind the means of experiencing a condition upon the realization of which, in each individual case, the certainty of salvation depends. That condition is a mysterious conversion, stirring the depths of the soul through an inspired faith in personal election by the unchanging decree of God. The difference, then, in a word, between the two methods of salvation thus far explained, is this: While both assume that mankind are doomed to death and hell in consequence of the sin of Adam, the one asserts that the interference of Christ of itself saved all souls, the other asserts that that interference cannot save any soul except those whom God, of his sovereign pleasure, had from eternity arbitrarily elected.6 This scheme grew directly out of the dogma of fatalism, which sinks human freedom in Divine predestination. God having solely of his 5 Burdach, Carus, Oken, Bayrhoffer, Agassiz. See Bunsen, Christianity and Mankind, vol. iv. p. 28; Mott and Gliddon, Types of Mankind, p. 338. 6 Confession of Faith of Westminster Divines, ch. iii. sect. 3. own will foreordained that a certain number of mankind should be saved, Christ died in order to pay the penalty of their sins and render it possible for them to be forgiven and taken into heaven without violating the awful bond of justice. The benefits of the atonement, therefore, are limited to the elect. Nor is this to be regarded as an act of severity; on the contrary, it is an act of unspeakable benevolence. For by the sin of Adam the whole race of men, without exception, were hateful to God, and justly sentenced to eternal damnation. When, consequently, he devised a plan of redemption by which he could himself bear the guilt, and suffer the agony, and pay the debt of a few, and thus ransom them from their doom, the reprobates who were left had no right to complain, but the chosen were a monument of disinterested love, because all alike deserved the endless tortures of hell. According to this conception, all men being by their ancestral act and inherited nature irretrievably lost, God's arbitrary pleasure was the cause, Christ's voluntary death was the means, by which a certain number were to be saved. What individuals should compose this portion of the race, was determined from eternity beyond all contingencies. The effect of faith and conversion, and of the new birth, is not to save the soul, but simply to convince the soul that it is saved. That is to say, a regenerating belief and love is not the efficient cause, it is merely the revealed assurance, of salvation, proving to the soul that feels it, by the testimony of the Holy Spirit, that it is of the chosen number. The preaching of the gospel is to be extended everywhere, not for the purpose of saving those who would otherwise be lost, but because its presentation will awaken in the elect, and in them alone, that responsive experience which will reveal their election to them, and make them sure of it, already foretasting it; though it is thought that no one can be saved who is ignorant of the gospel: it is mysteriously ordered that the terms of the covenant shall be preached to all the elect. There are correlated complexities, miracles, absurdities, in wrought with the whole theory, inseparable from it. The violence it does to nature, to thought, to love, to morals, its arbitrariness, its mechanical form, the wrenching exegesis by which alone it can be forced from the Bible,7 its glaring partiality and eternal cruelty, are its sufficient refutation and condemnation. If the death of Christ has such wondrous saving efficacy, and nothing else has, what keeps him from dying again to convince the unbelieving and to save the lost? What man is there who, if he knew that, after thirty years of suffering terminated by a fearful death, he should rise again into boundless bliss and glory while rapt infinitude rung with the paans of an applauding universe, and that by means of his humiliation he could redeem countless millions from eternal torture, would not with a joyous spring undertake the task? And is a common man better than Christ? The third general plan of Christian salvation which we are to consider differs from the foregoing one in several essential particulars. It affirms the free will of man in opposition to a fatal predestination. It declares that the atonement is sufficient to redeem not only a portion of our race, but all who will put themselves in right spiritual relations with it. In a word, while it admits that some will actually be lost forever, it asserts that no one is doomed 7 Schweizer, Die Lehre des Apostels Paulus vom erlosenden Tode Christi. Theologische Studien und Kritiken, Jahrg. 1858, heft 3. to be lost, but that the offer of pardon is made to every soul, and that every one has power to accept or reject it. The sacrifice of the incarnate Deity vindicated the majesty of the law, appeased the wrath of God, and purchased his saving favor towards all who, by a sound and earnest faith, seize the proffered justification, throw off all reliance on their own works, and present themselves before the throne of mercy clothed in the righteousness and sprinkled with the blood of Christ. Here the appropriation of the merits of Christ, through an orthodox and vivifying faith, is the real cause as well as the experimental assurance of salvation. This is free to all. As the brazen serpent was hoisted in the wilderness, and the scorpion bitten Israelites invited to look on it and be healed, so the crucified God is lifted up, and all men, everywhere, are urged to kneel before him, accept his atonement, and thus enable his righteousness to be imputed to them, and their souls to be saved. The vital condition of salvation is an appropriating faith in the vicarious atonement. Without this no one can be saved. Thus with one word and a single breath whole nations and races are whiffed into hell. All that the good hearted Luther could venture to say of Cicero, whom he deeply admired and loved, was the kind ejaculation, "I hope God will be merciful to him!" To those who appreciate it with hostility, and look on all things in its light, the thought that there can be no salvation except by belief in the expiatory death of Christ, hopelessly dooming all the heathen,8 and all infant children, unless baptized in a proxy faith,9 builds an altar of blood among the stars and makes the universe reek with horror. Other crimes, though stained through with midnight dyes and heaped up to the brim of outrageous guilt, may be freely forgiven to him who comes heartily to credit the vicarious death of the Savior; but he who does not trust in that, though virtuous as man can be, must depart into the unappeasable fires. "Why this unintelligible crime of not seeing the atonement happens to be the only sin for which there is no atonement, it is impossible to say." Though this view of the method, extent, and conditions of redemption is less revolting and incredible than the other, still, it does not seem to us that any person whose mental and moral nature is unprejudiced, healthy, and enlightened, and who will patiently study the subject, can possibly accept either of them. The leading assumed doctrines common to them, out of which they severally spring, and on which they both rest, are not only unsupported by adequate proofs, but really have no evidence at all, and are absurd in themselves, confounding the broadest distinctions in morals, and subverting the best established principles of natural religion.10 The fourth scheme of Christian salvation is that which predicates the power of insuring souls from hell solely of the Church. This is the sacramental theory. It is assumed that, in the state of nature subsequent to the transgression and fall of Adam, all men are alienated from God, and by the universal original sin universally exposed to damnation, indeed, the helpless victims of eternal misery. In the fulness of time, Christ appeared, and offered himself to suffer in their stead to secure their deliverance. His death cancelled the whole sum of 8 Bretschneider, Entwickelung der Dogmatik, sect. 112, Nos. 37 50. 9 So affirmed by the Council of Carthage, Canon II. 10 The violence done to moral reason by these views is powerfully exposed in Bushnell's Discourse on the Atonement: God in Christ, pp. 193-202. original sin, and only that, thus taking away the absolute impossibility of salvation, and leaving every man in the world free to stand or fall, incur hell or win heaven, by his personal merits. From that time any person who lived a perfectly holy life which no man could find practically possible thereby secured eternal blessedness; but the moment he fell into a single sin, however trivial, he sealed his condemnation: Christ's sacrifice, as was just said, merely removed the transmitted burden of original sin from all mankind, but made no provision for their personal sins, so that practically, all men being voluntary as well as hereditary sinners, their condition was as bad as before: they were surely lost. To meet this state of the case, the Church, whose priests, it is claimed, are the representatives of Christ, and whose head is the vicegerent of God on earth, was empowered by the celebration of the mass to re enact, as often as it pleased, the tragedy of the crucifixion. In this service Christ is supposed literally to be put to death afresh, and the merit of his substitutional sufferings is supposed to be placed to the account of the Church.11 As Sir Henry Wotton says, "One rosy drop from Jesus' heart Was worlds of seas to quench God's ire." In one of the Decretals of Clement VI., called "Extravagants," it is asserted that "one drop of Christ's blood [una guttula sanguinis] being sufficient to redeem the whole human race, the remaining quantity which was shed in the garden and on the cross was left as a legacy to the Church, to be a treasure whence indulgences were to be drawn and administered by the Roman pontiffs." Furthermore, saints and martyrs, by their constant self denial, voluntary sufferings, penances, and prayers, like Christ, do more good works than are necessary for their own salvation; and the balance of merit the works of supererogation is likewise accredited to the Church. In this way a great reserved fund of merits is placed at the disposal of the priests. At their pleasure they can draw upon this vicarious treasure and substitute it in place of the deserved penalties of the guilty, and thus absolve them and effect the salvation of their souls. All this dread machinery is in the sole power of the Church. Outside of her pale, heretics, heathen, all alike, are unalterably doomed to hell. But whoso will acknowledge her authority, confess his sins, receive the sacrament of baptism, partake of the eucharist, obey the priests, shall be infallibly saved. The Church declares that those who neglect to submit to her power and observe her rites are lost, by excommunicating such every year just before Easter, thereby typifying that they shall have no part in the resurrection and ascension. The scheme of salvation just exhibited we reject as alike unwarranted by the Scriptures, absurd to reason, absurd to conscience, fraught with evil practices, and traceable in history through the gradual and corrupt growths of the dogmatic policy of an interested body. There is not one text in the Bible which affords real argument, credit, or countenance to the haughty pretensions of a Church to retain or absolve guilt, to have the exclusive control of the tangible keys of heaven and hell. It is incredible to a free and intelligent mind that the opposing fates forever of hundreds of millions of men should turn on a mere accident of time 11 Thomas Aquinas, Summa, Suppl. pars iii. qu. 25, art. 1. and place, or at best on the moral contingence of their acknowledging or denying the doubtful authority of a tyrannical hierarchy, a mere matter of form and profession, independent of their lives and characters, and of no spiritual worth at all. One is here reminded of a passage in Plutarch's Essay "How a Young Man ought to hear Poems." The lines in Sophocles which declare that the initiates in the Mysteries shall be happy in the future life, but that all others shall be wretched, having been read to Diogenes, he exclaimed, "What! Shall the condition of Pantacion, the notorious robber, be better after death than that of Epaminondas, merely because he was initiated in the Mysteries?" It is also a shocking violence to common sense, and to all proper appreciation of spiritual realities, to imagine the gross mechanical transference of blame and merit mutually between the bad and the good, as if moral qualities were not personal, but might be shifted about at will by pecuniary considerations, as the accounts in the debt and credit columns of a ledger. The theoretic falsities of such a scheme are as numerous and evident as its practical abuses have been enormous and notorious. How ridiculous this ritual fetch to snatch souls from perdition appears as stated by Julian against Augustine! "God and the devil, then, have entered into a covenant, that what is born the devil shall have, and what is baptized God shall have!"12 We hesitate not to stake the argument on one question. If there be no salvation save by believing and accepting the sacraments with the authority of the Romanist or the Episcopalian Church, then less than one in a hundred thousand of the world's population thus far can be saved. Death steadily showers into hell, age after age, an overwhelming proportion of the souls of all mankind, a rain storm of agonized drops of immortality to feed and freshen the quenchless fires of damnation. Who can believe it, knowing what it is that he believes? We advance next to a system of Christian salvation as remarkable for its simplicity, boldness, and instinctive benevolence as those we have previously examined are for complexity, unnaturalness, and severity. The theory referred to promises the natural and inevitable salvation of every created soul. It bases itself on two positions, the denial that men are ever lost, except partially and temporarily, and the exhibition of the irresistible power, perfect wisdom, and infinite goodness of God. The advocates of this doctrine point first to observation and experience, and declare that no person is totally reprobate, that every one is salvable; those most corrupt and abandoned to wickedness, unbelief, and hardness, have yet a spark that may be kindled, a fount that may be made to gush, unto the illumination and purification of the whole being. A stray word, an unknown influence, a breath of the Spirit, is continually effecting such changes, such salvations. True, there are many fettered by vices, torn by sins, ploughed by the caustic shares of remorse, lost to peaceful freedom, lost to spiritual joys, lost to the sweet, calm raptures of religious belief and love, and, in that sense, plunged in damnation. But this, they say, is the only hell there is. At the longest, it can endure but for the night of this life: deliverance and blessedness come with the morning dawn of a better world. Exact retributions are awarded to all iniquity here; so 12 Julian, lib. vi. ix. that at the termination of the present state there is nothing to prevent the flowing of an equal bliss impartially over all. The substantive faculties and forces of the soul are always good and right: only their action is perverted to evil.13 This perversion will cease with the accidents of the present state; and thus death is the door to salvation. God's desires and intentions for his creatures, again they argue, must be purely gracious and blessed; for Nature, the Bible, and the Soul blend their ultimate teachings in one affirmation that he is Love. Being omnipotent and of perfect wisdom, nothing can withstand his decrees or thwart his plans. His purpose, of course, must be fulfilled. There is every thing to prove, and nothing, rightly understood, to disprove, that that purpose is the eternal blessedness of all his intelligent offspring after death. Therefore, they think they are justified in concluding, the laws of nature, God's regular habits and course of government, the normal arrangement and process of things, will of themselves work out the inevitable salvation of all mankind. After the uproar and darkness, the peril and fear, of a tempestuous night, the all embracing smile of daylight gradually spreads over the world, and the turmoil silently subsides, and the scene sleeps. So after the sins and miseries, the condemnation and hell, of this state of existence, shall succeed the redemption, the holiness and happy peace, of heaven, into which all pass by the order of nature, the original and undisturbed arrangement of the creative Father. This view is advanced by some on grounds both of revelation and reason. It is the doctrine of those Beghards who taught that "there is neither hell nor purgatory; that no one is damned, neither Jew nor Saracen, because on the death of the body the soul returns to God."14 But the proper doctrine of the Universalist denomination is founded directly on Scripture, and seems now to be simply the absolute certainty of final salvation for all. Balfour held that Christ, in obedience to the will of God, secures eternal life for all men in the most literal manner, by causing the resurrection of the dead from their otherwise endless sleep in the grave, a doctrine nearly or quite fossil now.15 It will be noticed that by this view salvation is an unlimited necessity, not a contingency, a boon thrown to all, and which no one has power to reject: "The road to heaven is broader than the world, And deeper than the kingdoms of the dead; And up its ample paths the nations tread With all their banners furl'd." This theory contains elements, it seems to us, both of truth and falsehood. It casts off gross mistakes, announces some fundamental realities, overlooks, perverts, exaggerates, some essential facts in the case. There is so much in it that is grateful and beautiful that we cannot wonder at its reception where the tender instincts of the heart are stronger than the stern decisions of the conscience, where the kindly sentiments usurp the province of the critical reason and sit in judgment upon evidence for the construction of a dogmatic creed. We 13 Universalist Quarterly Review, vol. x. art. xvi.: Character and its Predicates. 14 Hagenbach, Dogmengeschichte, sect. 209, note 14. 15 See Ballou, Examination of the Doctrine of Future Punishment, pp. 152-157. Williamson, Exposition of Universalism, Sermon XL: Nature of Salvation. Cobb, Compend. of Divinity, ch. ix. sect. 3. cannot accept it as a whole, cannot admit its great unqualified conclusion, not only because there is no direct evidence for it, but because there are many potent presumptions against it. It is not built upon the facts of our consciousness and present experience, but is resolutely constructed in defiance of them by an arbitrary process of assumption and inference; for since God's perfections are as absolute now as they ever can be, and he now permits sin and misery, there is no impossibility that they will be permitted for a season hereafter. If they are necessary now, they may be necessary hereafter. An experience of salvation by all, regardless of what they do or what they leave undone, would also defeat what we have always considered the chief final cause of man, namely, the self determined resistance of Evil and choice of Good, the free formation of virtuous character. The plan of a necessary and indiscriminate redemption likewise breaks the evident continuity of life, ignores the lineal causative power of experience, whereby each moment partially produces and moulds the next, destroys the probationary nature of our lot, and palsies the strength of moral motive. It is furthermore the height of injustice, awarding to all men the same condition, remorselessly swallowing up their infinite differences, making sin and virtue, sloth and toil, exactly alike in the end. Whose earnestly embraces the theory, and meditates much upon it, and reasons closely, will be likely to become an Antinomian. It overlooks the loud, omnipresent hints which tell us that the present state is incomplete and dependent, the part of a great whole, the visible segment of a circle whose complement overarches the invisible world to come, where future correspondences and fulnesses will satisfy and complete present claims and deficiencies. We reject this scheme, as to its distinctive feature, for all those reasons which lead us to accept that final view to which we now turn. The theory of Christian redemption which seems to us correct, represents the good and evil forces of personal character, harmonious or discordant with the mind of God, as the conditions of salvation or of reprobation. Swedenborg, who teaches that man in the future state is the son of his own deeds in the present state, says he once saw Melancthon in hell, writing, "Faith alone saves," the words fading out as fast as written, because expressive of a falsehood! It is not belief, but love, that dominates the soul, not a mental act, but a spiritual substance. According as the realities of the soul are what they should be, just and pure, or what they should not be, perverted and corrupt, and according as the realities of the soul are in right relations with truth, beauty, goodness, or in vitiated relations with them, so, and to that extent, is the soul saved or lost. This is not a matter of arbitrary determination on one hand; and of helpless submission on the other: it is a matter of Divine permission on one hand, and of free, though sometimes unintelligent and mistaken, choice on the other. The only perdition is to be out of tune with the right constitution and exercise of things and rules. That, of itself, makes a man the victim of guilt and wretchedness. The only salvation is the restoration of the balance and normal efficiency of the faculties, the restoration of their harmony with the moral law, the recommencement of their action in unison with the will of God. When a soul, through its exposure and freedom, becomes and experiences what God did not intend and is not pleased with, what his creative and executive arrangements are not purposely ordered for, it is, for the time, and so far forth, lost. It is saved, when knowledge of truth illuminates the mind, love of goodness warms the heart, energy, purity, and aspiration fill and animate the whole being. Then, having realized in its experience the purposes of Christ's mission, the original aims of its existence, it rejoices in the favor of God. In the harmonious fruition of its internal efficiencies and external relations, all things work together for good unto it, and it basks in the beams of the sun of immortality. Perdition and hell are the condemnation and misery instantaneously deposited in experience whenever and wherever a perverted and corrupt soul touches its relations with the universe. The meeting of its consciousness with the alienated mournful faces of things, with the hostile retributive forces of things, produces unrest and suffering with the same natural necessity that the meeting of certain chemical substances deposits poison and bitterness. Perdition being the degradation and wretchedness of the soul through ingrained falsehood, vice, impurity, and hardness, salvation is the casting out of these evils, and the replacing them with truth, righteousness, a holy and sensitive life. To ransom from hell and translate to heaven is not, then, so much to deliver from a local dungeon of gnawing fires and worms, and bear to a local paradise of luxuries, as it is to heal diseases and restore health. Hell is a wrong, diseased condition of the soul, its indwelling wretchedness and retribution, wherever it may be, as when the light of day tortures a sick eye. Heaven is a right, healthy condition of the soul, its indwelling integrity and concord, in whatever realms it may reside, as when the sunshine bathes the healthy orb of vision with delight. Salvation is nothing more nor less than the harmonious blessedness of the soul by the fruition of all its right powers and relations. Remove a man who is writhing in the agonies of some physical disease, from his desolate hut on the bleak mountain side to a gorgeous palace in a delicious tropical clime. He is just as badly off as before. He is still, so to speak, in hell, wherever he may be in location. Cure his sickness, and then he is, so to speak, saved, in heaven. It is so with the soul. The conditions of salvation and reprobation are not arbitrary, mechanical, fickle, but are the interior and unalterable laws of the soul and of the universe. "Every devil," Sir Thomas Browne says, "holds enough of torture in his own ubi, and needs not the torture of circumference to afflict him." If there are, as there may be, two entirely separate regions in space, whose respective boundaries enclose hell and heaven, banishment into the one, or admission into the other, evidently is not what constitutes the essence of perdition or of salvation, is not the all important consideration; but the characteristic condition of the soul, which produces its experience and decides its destination, that is the essential thing. The mild fanning of a zephyr in a summer evening is intolerable to a person in the convulsions of the ague, but most welcome and delightful to others. So to a wicked soul all objects, operations, and influences of the moral creation become hostile and retributive, making a hell of the whole universe. Purify the soul, restore it to a correct condition, and every thing is transfigured: the universal hell becomes universal heaven. We may gather up in a few propositions the leading principles of this theory of salvation. First, Perdition is not an experience to which souls are helplessly born, not a sentence inflicted on them by an arbitrary decree, but is a result wrought out by free agency, in conformity to the unalterable laws of the spiritual world. Secondly, heaven and hell are not essentially particular localities into which spirits are thrust, nor states of consciousness produced by outward circumstances, but are an outward reflection from, and a reciprocal action upon, internal character. Thirdly, condemnation, or justification, is not absolute and complete, equalizing all on each side of a given line, but is a thing of degrees, not exactly the same in any two individuals, or in the same person at all times. Fourthly, we have no reason to suppose that probation closes with the closing of the present life; but every relevant consideration leads us to conclude that the same great constitution of laws pervades all worlds and reigns throughout eternity, so that the fate of souls is not unchangeably fixed at death. No analogy indicates that after death all will be thoroughly different from what it is before death. Rather do all analogies argue that the hell and heaven of the future will be the aggravation, or mitigation, or continuation, of the perdition and salvation of the present. It is altogether a sentence of exact right according to character, a matter of personal achievement depending upon freedom, an experience of inward elements and states, a thing of degrees, and a subject of continued probation. The condition of the heathen nations in reference to salvation is satisfactory only in the light of the foregoing theory. If a person is what God wishes, as shown by his revealed will in the model of Christ, pure, loving, devout, wise, and earnest, he is saved, whether he ever heard of Christ or not. Are Plato and Aristides, Cato and Antoninus, to be damned, while Pope Alexander VI. and King Philip II are saved, because those glorious characters merely lived at the then height of attainable excellence, but these fanatic scoundrels made a technical profession of Christianity? The "Athanasian" creed asserts that whoever doth not fully believe its dogmas "shall without doubt perish everlastingly." And the eighteenth article in the creed of the Church of England declares "them accursed who presume to say that any man can be saved by diligently framing his life according to the law or sect which he professeth, and the light of nature."16 Another particular in which the present view of salvation is satisfactory, in opposition to the other theories, is in leaving the personal nature of sin clear, the realm of personal responsibility unconfused. Why should a system of thought be set up and adhered to in religion that would be instantly and universally scouted at if applied to any other subject? 17 "No one dreams that the sin of an unexercised intellect, of gross ignorance, can be pardoned only through faith in the sacrifice of some incarnation of the Perfect Reason. No one expects to be told that the violation of the bodily laws can be forgiven by the Infinite Creator only on the ground that some perfect physician honors them by obedience and death. It is by opening the mind to God's published truth, and by conformity to the discovered philosophical 16 Arnauld, Emes, Goeze, and others, have written volumes to prove the indiscriminate damnation of the heathen. On the contrary, Muller, in his "Diss. de Paganorum poet Mortem Conditione," and Marmontel, in his "Belisaire," take a more favorable view of the fate of the ethnic world. The best work on the subject a work of great geniality and ability is Eberhard's "Neue Apologie des Socrates." Also see Knapp's Christian Theology, sect. lxxxviii. 17 Martineau, Studies of Christianity, pp. 153-176: Mediatorial Religion. Ibid. pp. 468-477: Sin What it is, What it is not. order, or the reception of the adopted remedy, that the mind and the frame experience new life. And our souls are redeemed, not by any expiation on account of which penalties are lifted, but by reception of spiritual truth and consecration of will, which push away penalties by wholesome life." 18 The awful inviolability of justice is shown by the eternal course of God's laws bringing the exactly deserved penalty upon every soul that sinneth. Whoever breaks a Divine decree puts all sacred things in antagonism to him, and the precise punishment of his offences not the worth of worlds nor the blood of angels can avert. The boundless mercy of God, his atoning love, is shown by the absence of all vindictiveness from his judgments, their restorative aim and tendency. Whenever the sinner repents, reforms, puts himself in a right attitude, God is waiting to pardon and bless him, the sun shines and the happy heart is glad as at first, the cloudy screen of sin and fear and retributive alienation being removed. This view, when appreciated, affords as impressive a sanction to law, and as affecting an exhibition of love, as are theoretically ascribed to the doctrine of vicarious expiation. The infinite sanctity of justice and the fathomless love of God are certainly much more plainly and satisfactorily shown by the righteous nature and beneficent operation of the law, than by its terrible severity and arbitrary subversion. According to the present view, the relation of Christ to human redemption is as simple and rational as it is divinely appointed and perfectly fulfilled. Accredited with miraculous seals, presenting the most pathetic and inspiring motives, he reveals the truths and exemplifies the virtues which, when adopted, regenerate the springs of faith and character, rectify the lines of conduct, and change men from sinful and wretched to saintly and blessed. He stirs the stagnant soul, that man may replunge into his native self, and rise redeemed. For the more distinct comprehension and remembrance of the schemes of Christian salvation we have been considering, it may be well to recapitulate them. The first theory is this: When, by the fall of Adam, all men were utterly lost and doomed to hell forever, the vicarious sufferings of Christ cancelled sin, and unconditionally purchased and saved all. This was the original development of Universalism. It sprang consistently from Augustinian grounds. It was taught by a party in the Church of the first centuries, was afterwards repeatedly condemned as a heresy by popes and by councils, and was revived by Kelly, Murray, and others. We are not aware that it now has any avowed disciples. The second conception is, in substance, that God, foreseeing from eternity the fall of Adam and the consequent damnation of his posterity, arbitrarily elected a portion of them to salvation, leaving the rest to their fate; and the vicarious sufferings of Christ were the only possible means of carrying that decree into effect. This is the Augustinian and Calvinistic theology, and has had a very extensive prevalence among Christians. Many church creeds still embody the doctrine; but in its original, uncompromising form it is rapidly fading from belief. Even now few persons can be found to profess it without essential modifications, so 18 T. S. King, Endless Punishment Unchristian and Unreasonable, p. 65. qualifying it as to destroy its identity. The third plan of delivering souls from the doom supposed to rest on them attributes to the vicarious sufferings of Christ a conditional efficacy, depending upon personal faith. Every one who will heartily believe in the substitutional death of Christ, and trust in his atoning merits, shall thereby be saved. This was the system of Pelagius, Arminius, Luther. It prevails now in the so called Evangelical Churches more generally than any other system. The fourth received method of salvation, assuming the same premises which the three foregoing schemes assume, namely, that through the fall all men are eternally sentenced to hell, declares that, by Christ's vicarious sufferings, power is given to the Church, a priestly hierarchy, to save such as confess her authority and observe her rites. All others must continue lost.19 This theory early began to be constructed and broached by the Fathers. It is held by the Roman Catholic Church, and by all the consistent portion of the Episcopalian. A part of the Baptist denomination also through their popular preachers, if not in their recognised symbols assert the indispensableness of ritual baptism to salvation. The fifth view of the problem is that no soul is lost or doomed except so far as it is personally, voluntarily depraved and sinful. And even to that extent, and in that sense, it can be called lost only in the present life. After death every soul is freed from evil, and ushered at once into heaven. This is the distinctive doctrine of the ultra Universalists. It is disappearing from among its recent advocates. As a body they have already exchanged its arbitrary conceptions of "death and glory" for the more rational conclusions of the "Restorationists." 20 The sixth and final scheme of Christian salvation teaches that, by the immutable laws which the Creator has established in and over his works and creatures, a free soul may choose good or evil, truth or falsehood, love or hate, beneficence or iniquity. Just so far and just so long as it partakes of the former it is saved; as it partakes of the latter it is lost, that is, alienates the favor of God, forfeits so much of the benefits of creation and of the blessings of being. The conditions and means of repentance, reformation, regeneration, are always within its power, the future state being but the unencumbered, more favorable experience of the spiritual elements of the present, under the same Divine constitution and laws. This is the common belief of Unitarians and Universalists, the latter alone teaching it as a sure doctrine of Revelation. Salvation by purchase, by the redeeming blood of Christ; salvation by election, by the independent decree of God, sealed by the blood of Christ; salvation by faith, by an appropriating faith in the blood of Christ; salvation by the Church, by the sacraments made efficacious to that end by the blood of Christ; salvation by nature, by the irresistible working of the natural order of things, declared by the teachings of Christ; salvation by a resurrection from the dead, miraculously effected by the delegated power of Christ; salvation by character, by conformity of character to the spiritual laws of the universe, to the nature and will of God, revealed, urged, exemplified, by the whole mission of Christ; these are the different theories 19 Adams, Mercy to Babes. (A plea for the baptism of infants, that they may not be damned.) 20 Adin Ballou, Universalism and Restorationism Moral Contraries, 1837. proposed for the acceptance of Christians. Outside of Christendom we discern, received and operative in various forms, all the theoretic modes of salvation acknowledged within it, and some others in addition. The creed and practice of the Mohammedans afford a more unflinching embodiment of the conception of salvation by election than is furnished anywhere else. Islam denotes Fate. All is predestinated and follows on in inevitable sequence. No modifying influence is possible. Can a breath move Mount Kaf? The chosen of Allah shall believe; the rejected of Allah shall deny. Every believer's bower is blooming for him in Paradise; every unbeliever's bed is burning for him in hell. And nothing whatever can avail to change the persons or the total number elected for each. There is one theory of salvation scarcely heard of in the West, but extensively held in the East. The Brahmanic as well as the Buddhist thinker relies on obtaining salvation by knowledge. Life in a continual succession of different bodies is his perdition. His salvation is to be freed from the vortex of births and deaths, the fret and storm of finite existence. Neither goodness nor piety can ever release him. Knowledge alone can do it: an unsullied intellectual vision and a free intellectual grasp of truth and love alone can rescue him from the turbid sea of forms and struggles. "As a lump of salt is of uniform taste within and without, so the soul is nothing but intelligence."21 If the soul be an entire mass of intelligence, a current of ideas, its real salvation depends on its becoming pure and eternal truth without mixture of falsehood or of emotional disturbance. He "must free himself from virtues as well as from sins; for the confinement of fetters is the same whether the chain be of gold or of iron."22 Accordingly, the Hindu, to secure emancipation, planes down the mountainous thoughts and passions of his soul to a desert level of indifferent insight. And when, in direct personal knowledge, free from joy and sorrow, free from good and ill, he gazes into the limitless abyss of Divine truth, then he is sure of the bosom of Brahm, the door of Nirwana. Then the wheel of the Brahmanic Ixion ceases revolving, and the Buddhist Ahasuerus flings away his staff; for salvation is attained. The conception of salvation by ritual works based on faith either faith in Deity or in some redemptive agency is exhibited all over the world. Hani, a Hindu devotee, dwelt in a thicket, and repeated the name of Krishna a hundred thousand times each day, 23 and thus saved his soul. The saintly Muni Shukadev said, as is written in the most popular religious authority of India, "Who even ignorantly sing the praises of Krishna undoubtedly obtain final beatitude; just as, if one ignorant of the properties of nectar should drink it, he would still become immortal. Whoever worships Hari, with whatever disposition of mind, obtains beatitude."24 "The repetition of the names of Vishnu purifies from all sins, even when invoked by an evil minded person, as fire burns even him who approaches it unwillingly."25 Nothing is more common in the sacred writings of the Hindus than the promise that "whoever reads or hears this narrative with a devout mind shall receive final beatitude." Millions on millions of these docile and abject devotees undoubtingly expect salvation by such merely ritual 21 Colebrooke, Essays, vol. i. p. 359. 22 Ibid. p. 363. 23 Asiatic Researches, vol. xvi. p. 115. 24 Eastwick, Prem Sagar, p. 56. 25 Vishnu Parans, p. 210, note 13. observances. One cries "Lord!" "Lord!" Another thumbs a book, as if it were an omnipotent amulet. Another meditates on some mystic theme, as if musing were a resistless spell of silent exorcism and invocation. Another pierces himself with red hot irons, as if voluntary pain endured now could accumulate merit for him and buy off future inflictions. It is surprising to what an extent men's efforts for salvation seem underlaid by conceptions of propitiation, the placation of a hatred, the awakening of a love, in the objects of their worship. In all these cases salvation is sought indirectly through works, though not particularly good works. The savage makes an offering, mutters a prayer, or fiercely wounds his body, before the hideous idol of his choice. The fakir, swung upon sharp hooks, revolves slowly round a fire. The monk wears a hair shirt, and flagellates himself until blood trickles across the floor of his cell. The Portuguese sailor in a storm takes a leaden saint from his bosom and kneels before it for safety. The offending Bushman crawls in the dust and shudders as he seeks to avert the fury of the fetich which he has carved and set in a tree. The wounded brigand in the Apennines, with unnumbered robberies and murders on his soul, finds perfect ease to his conscience as his glazing eye falls on a carefully treasured picture of the Virgin, and he expires in a triumph of faith, saying, "Sweet Mother of God, intercede for me." The Calvinistic convert, about to be executed for his fearful crimes, kneels at the foot of the gallows, and exclaims, as in a recent well known instance, "I hold the blood of Christ between my soul and the flaming face of God, and die happy, assured that I am going to heaven." It is all a terrible delusion, arising from perverted sentiment and degraded thought. Of the five theoretical modes of salvation taught in the world, Election, Faith, Works, Knowledge, Harmony, one alone is real and divine, although it contains principles taken from all the rest and blended with its own. There is no salvation by foregone election; for that would dethrone the moral laws and deify caprice. There is no salvation by dogmatic faith; because faith is not a matter of will, but of evidence, not within man's own power, and a thousand varieties of faith are necessitated among men. There is no salvation by determinate works; for works are measurable quantities, whose rewards and punishments are meted and finally spent, but salvation is qualitative and infinite. There is no salvation by intellectual knowledge; for knowledge is sight, not being, an accident, not an essence, an attribute of one faculty, not a right state and ruling force in all. The true salvation is by harmony; for harmony of all the forces of the soul with themselves and with all related forces beyond, harmony of the individual will with the Divine will, harmony of personal action with the universal activity, what other negation of perdition is possible? what other definition and affirmation of salvation conceivable? By the Creator's fiat, man is first elected to be. By the guiding stimulus of faith, he is next animated to spiritual exertion. By the performance of good works, he then brings his moral nature into beautiful form and attitude. By knowledge of truth, he furthermore sees how to direct, govern, and attune himself. And finally, by the accomplishment of all this in the organized harmony of a wise and holy soul, there results that state of being whose passive conditions constitute salvation, and whose active experience is eternal life. CHAPTER VI. RECOGNITION OF FRIENDS IN A FUTURE LIFE. OF all the sorrows incident to human life, none is so penetrating to gentle hearts as that which fills them with aching regrets, and, for a time, writes hollowness and vanity on their dearest treasures, when death robs them of those they love. And so, of all the questions that haunt the soul, wringing its faculties for a solution, beseeching the oracles of the universe for a response, none can have a more intense interest than gathers about the irrepressible inquiry, "Shall we ever meet again, and know, the friends we have lost? somewhere in the ample creation and in the boundless ages, join, with the old familiar love, our long parted, fondly cherished, never forgotten dead?" The grief of bereavement and the desire of reunion are experienced in an endless diversity of degrees by different persons, according as they are careless, hard, and sense bound, or thoughtful, sympathizing, and imaginative; undisciplined by the mysteries and afflictions of our mortal destiny, or profoundly tried by the disappointments and prophecies of time and fate; and as they are shadowed by the gloom of despair, or cheered by the radiance of belief. But to all who feel, even the least, the uncertain but deep monitions of the silent pall, the sad procession, and the burial mound, the impressive problem must occur, with frequency and power, Does the grave sunder us and the objects of our affection forever? or, across that dark gulf, shall we be united again in purer bonds? Outside of the atheistic dissolution and the pantheistic absorption, it is supposable that, surviving the blow of death, our spirits may return to God and run their endless course in divine solitude. On the other hand, it is supposable that, possessed with all the memories of this probationary state, blessed by the companionship of our earthly friends, we may aspire together along the interminable gradations of the world to come. If the former supposition be true, and the farewell of the dying is the announcement of an irrevocable separation, then the tears we shed over the shrouded clay, once so prized, should be distillations from Lethe's flood, to make us forget all. But if the latter be true, then our deadly seeming losses are as the partings of travellers at night to meet in the morning; and, as friend after friend retires, we should sigh to each departing spirit a kind adieu till we meet again, and let pleasing memories of them linger to mingle in the sacred day dreams of remaining life. Evidently it is of much importance to a man which of these views he shall take; for each exerts a distinctive influence in regard to his peace of mind, his moral strength, and his religious character. On one who believes that hereafter, beyond all the partings in this land of tombs, he shall never meet the dear companions who now bless his lot, the death of friends must fall, if he be a person of strong sensibilities, as a staggering blow, awakening an agony of sorrow, taking from the sky and the earth a glory nothing can ever replace, and leaving in his heart a wretched void nothing can ever fill. Henceforth he will be deprived mostly for all felt connection between them is hopelessly sundered of the good influences they exerted on him when present: he must try, by all expedients, to forget them; think no more of their virtues, their welcome voices and kindly deeds; wipe from the tablets of his soul all fond records of their united happy days; look not to the future, let the past be as though it had never been, and absorb his thoughts and feelings in the turmoil of the present. This is his only course; and even then, if true to the holiest instincts of his soul, he will find the fatal separation has lessened his being and impoverished his life, "For this losing is true dying; This is lordly man's down lying, This his slow but sure reclining, Star by star his world resigning." But to him who earnestly expects soon to be restored under fairer auspices and in a deathless world to those from whom he parted as he laid their crumbling bodies in the earth, the death of friends will come as a message from the Great Father, a message solemn yet kind, laden indeed with natural sadness yet brightened by sure promise and followed by heavenly compensations. If his tears flow, they flow not in scalding bitterness from the Marah fountain of despair, but in chastened joy from the smitten rock of faith. So far from endeavoring to forget the departed, he will cling to their memories with redoubled tenderness, as a sacred trust and a redeeming power. They will be more precious to him than ever, stronger to purify and animate. Their saintly examples will attract him as never before, and their celestial voices plead from on high to win him to virtue and to heaven. The constant thought of seeing them once more, and wafting in their arms through the enchanted spaces of Paradise, will wield a sanctifying force over his spirit. They will make the invisible sphere a peopled reality to him, and draw him to God by the diffused bonds of a spiritual acquaintance and an eternal love. Since the result in which a man rests on this subject, believing or disbelieving that he shall recognise his beloved ones the other side of the grave, exerts a deep influence on him, in one case disheartening, in the other uplifting, it is incumbent on us to investigate the subject, try to get at the truth, clear it up, and appreciate it as well as we can. It is a theme to interest us all. Who has not endeared relatives, choice friends, freshly or long ago removed from this earth into the unknown clime? In a little while, as the ravaging reaper sweeps on his way, who will not have still more there, or be there himself? Whether old acquaintance shall be all forgot or be well remembered there, is an inquiry which must profoundly interest all who have hearts to love their companions, and minds to perceive the creeping shadows of mystery drawing over us as we approach the sure destiny of age and the dim confines of the world. It is a theme, far removed from noisy strifes and vain shows, penetrating that mysterious essence of affection and thought which we are. The thing of first importance is not the conclusion we reach, but the spirit in which we seek and hold it. The Christian says to his friend, "Our souls will be united in yonder heaven." Danton, with a horrible travesty, said to his comrades on the scaffold, "Our heads will meet in that sack." Before engaging directly in the discussion, it will be interesting to notice, for an instant, the verdict which history, in the spontaneous suppositions and rude speculations of ancient peoples, pronounces on this subject.1 Among their various opinions about the state after death, it is a prominent circumstance that they generally agree in conceiving it as a social state in which personal likenesses and memories are retained, fellow countrymen are grouped together, and friends united. This is minutely true of those nations with the details of whose faith we are acquainted, and is implied in the general belief of all others, except those who expected the individual spirit to be absorbed in the soul of the universe. Homer shows Ulysses and Virgil in like manner shows Aneas upon his entrance into the other world mutually recognising his old comrades and recognised by them. The two heroes whose inseparable friendship on earth was proverbial are still together in Elysium: "Then, side by side, along the dreary coast Advanced Achilles' and Patroclus' ghost, A friendly pair." In this representation that there was a full recognition of acquaintances, all the accounts of the other world given in Greek and Roman literature harmonize. The same is true of the accounts contained in the literature of the ancient Hebrews. In the Book of Genesis, when Jacob hears of the death of his favorite child, he exclaims, "I shall go down to my son Joseph in the under world, mourning." When the witch of Endor raised the ghost of Samuel, Saul knew him by the description she gave of him as he rose. The monarch shades in the under world are pictured by Isaiah as recognising the shade of the king of Babylon and rising from their sombre thrones to greet him with mockery. Ezekiel shows us each people of the heathen nations in the under world in a company by themselves. When David's child died, the king sorrowfully exclaimed, "He will not return to me; but I shall go to him." All these passages are based on the conception of a gloomy subterranean abode where the ghosts of the dead are reunited after their separation at death on earth. An old commentator on the Koran says a Mohammedan priest was once asked how the blessed in paradise could be happy when missing some near relative or dear friend whom they were thus forced to suppose in hell. He replied, God will either cause believers to forget such persons or else to rest in expectation of their coming. The anecdote shows affectingly that the same yearning heart and curiosity are possessed by Moslem and Christian. A still more impressive case in point is furnished by a picture in a Buddhist temple in China. The painting represents the story of the priest Lo Puh, who, on passing into paradise at death, saw his mother, Yin Te, in hell. He instantly descended into the infernal court, Tsin Kwang Wang, where she was suffering, and, by his valor, virtues, and intercessions, rescued her. The picture vividly portraying the whole story may be seen and studied at the present time by Christian missionaries who enter that temple of the benevolent Buddha.2 From the faith of many other nations illustrations might be brought of the same fact, that the great common instinct which has led men to believe in a future life has at the same time caused them to believe that in that life there would be a union and recognition of friends. Let this far reaching historical fact be taken at its just value, 1 Alexius, Tod and Wiedersehen. Eine Gedankenfolge der besten Schriftsteller aller Zeiten und Volker. 2 Asiatic Journal, 1840, p. 211. while we proceed to the labor in hand. The fact referred to is of some value, because, being an expression of the heart of man as God made it, it is an indication of his will, a prophecy. There are three ways of trying the problem of future recognition. The cool, skeptical class of persons will examine the present related facts of the case; argue from what they now know; test the question by induction and inference. Let us see to what results they will thus be led. In the first place, we learn upon reflection that we now distinguish each other by the outward form, physical proportion, and combination of looks, tones of voice, and other the like particulars. Every one has his individuality in these respects, by which he is separable from others. It may be hastily inferred, then, that if we are to know our friends hereafter it will be through the retention or the recovery of their sensible peculiarities. Accordingly, many believe the soul to be a perfect reflection or immaterial fac simile of the body, the exact correspondence in shadowy outline of its gross tabernacle, and consequently at once recognizable in the disembodied state. The literature of Christendom we may almost say of the world teems with exemplifications of this idea. Others, arguing from the same acknowledged premises, conclude that future recognition will be secured by the resurrection of the material body as it was in all its perfection, in renovated and unfading prime. But, leaving out of view the inherent absurdity of the doctrine of a physical resurrection, there is a fatal difficulty in the way of both these supposititious modes of mutual knowledge in another world. It is this. The outward form, features, and expression sometimes alter so thoroughly that it is impossible for us to recognise our once most intimate companions. Cases are not rare of this kind. Let one pass in absence from childhood to maturity, and who that had not seen him in the mean time could tell that it was he? The trouble arising thence is finely illustrated by Shakspeare in the motherly solicitude of Constance, who, on learning that her young son has been imprisoned by his uncle, King John, and will probably be kept until he pines to death, cries in anguish to her confessor, "Father cardinal, I have heard you say That we shall see and know our friends in heaven: If that be true, I shall see my boy again; For, since the birth of Cain, the first male child, To him that did but yesterday suspire, There was not such a gracious creature born. But now will canker sorrow eat my bud And chase the native beauty from his cheek, And he will look as hollow as a ghost, As dim and meagre as an ague's fit; And so he'll die; and, rising so again, When I shall meet him in the court of heaven I shall not know him: therefore never, never Must I behold my pretty Arthur more." Owing to the changes of all sorts which take place in the body, future recognition cannot safely depend upon that or upon any resemblance of the spirit to it. Besides, not the faintest proof can be adduced of any such perceptible correspondence subsisting between them. Turning again to the facts of experience, we find that it is not alone, nor indeed chiefly, by their visible forms and features that we know our chosen ones. We also, and far more truly, know them by the traits of their characters, the elements of their lives, the effluence of their spirits, the magic atmosphere which surrounds them, the electric thrill and communication which vivify and conjoin our souls. And even in the exterior, that which most reveals and distinguishes each is not the shape, but the expression, the lights and shades, reflected out from the immortal spirit shrined within. We know each other really by the mysterious motions of our souls. And all these things endure and act uninterrupted though the fleshly frame alter a thousand times or dissolve in its native dust. The knowledge of a friend, then, being independent of the body, spirits may be recognised in the future state by the associations mutually surrounding them, the feelings connecting them. Amidst all the innumerable thronging multitudes, through all the immeasurable intervening heights and depths, of the immaterial world, remembered and desired companions may be selected and united by inward laws that act with the ease and precision of chemical affinities. We may therefore recognise each other by the feelings which now connect us, and which shall spontaneously kindle and interchange when we meet in heaven, as the signs of our former communion. It needs but little thought to perceive that by this view future recognition is conditional, being made to depend on the permanence of our sympathies: there must be the same mutual relations, affinities, fitness to awaken the same emotions upon approaching each other's sphere, or we shall neither know nor be known. But in fact our sympathies and aversions change as much as our outward appearance does. The vices and virtues, loves and hatreds, of our hearts alter, the peculiar characteristics of our souls undergo as great a transformation, sometimes, as thorough a revolution, as the body does in the interval between childhood and manhood. These changes going on in our associates frequently change our feelings towards them, heightening or diminishing our affection, creating a new interest, destroying an old one, now making enemies lovers, and now thoroughly alienating very friends. Such fundamental alterations of character may occur in us, or in our friend, before we meet in the unseen state, that we shall no more recognise each other's spirits than we should know each other on earth after a separation in which our bodily appearances and voices had been entirely changed. These considerations would induce us to think that recognition hereafter is not sure, but turns on the condition that we preserve a remembrance, desire, and adaptedness for one another. If now the critical inquirer shall say there is no evidence, and it is incredible, that the body will be restored to a future life, or that the soul has any resemblance to the body by which it may be identified, furthermore, if he shall maintain that the doctrine of the revelation and recognition of the souls of friends in another life by an instinctive feeling, a mysterious attraction and response, is fanciful, an overdrawn conclusion of the imagination, not warranted by a stern induction of the average realities of the subject, and if he shall then ask, how are we to distinguish our former acquaintances among the hosts of heaven? there is one more fact of experience which meets the case and answers his demand. When long absence and great exposures have wiped off all the marks by which old companions knew each other, it has frequently happened that they have met and conversed with indifference, each being ignorant of whom the other was; and so it has continued until, by some indirect means, some accidental allusion, or the agency of a third person, they have been suddenly revealed. Then, with throbbing hearts, in tears and rapture, they have rushed into each other's arms, with an instantaneous recurrence of their early friendship in all its original warmth, fulness, and flooding associations. Many such instances are related in books of romance with strict truth to the actual occurrences of life. Several instances of it are authenticated in the early history of America, when children, torn from their homes by the Indians, were recovered by their parents after twenty or thirty years had elapsed and they were identified by circumstantial evidence. Let any parent ask his heart, any true friend ask his heart, if, discovering by some foreign means the object of his love, he would not embrace him with just as ardent a gratitude and devotion as though there were no outward change and they had known one another at sight. So, in the life beyond the grave, if we are not able to recognise our earthly companions directly, either by spiritual sight or by intuitive feeling, we may obtain knowledge of each other indirectly by comparison of common recollections, or by the mediation of angels, or by some other Divine arrangement especially prepared for that purpose. And therefore, whether in heaven we look or feel as we do here or not, whether there be any provision in our present constitution for future recognition or not, is of no consequence. In a thousand ways the defect can be remedied, if such be the will of God. And that such is his will every relevant fact and consideration would seem to prove. It is a consistent and seemingly requisite continuation and completion of that great scheme of which this life is a part. It is an apparently essential element and fulfilment of the wonderful apparatus of retribution, reward, and discipline, intended to educate us as members of God's eternal family. Because from the little which we now understand we cannot infer with plainness and certainty the precise means and method by which we can discriminate our friends in heaven need be no obstacle to believing the fact itself; for there are millions of undoubted truths whose conditions and ways of operation we can nowise fathom. Upon the whole, then, we conclude that we cannot by our mere understandings decide with certainty the question concerning future recognition; but we are justified in trusting to the accuracy of that doctrine, since it rests safely with the free pleasure of God, who is both infinitely able and disposed to do what is best, and we cannot help believing that it is best for us to be with and love hereafter those whom we are with and love here.3 There is a way of dealing with the general subject before us wholly different from the course thus far pursued. Ceasing to act the philosopher, laying aside all arguments and theories, all dry speculations, we may come as simple believers to the Christian Scriptures and investigate their teachings to accept whatever they pronounce as the word of God's truth. Let us see to what results we shall thus be led. Searching the New Testament to learn its doctrine 3 Munch, Werden wir uns wiedersehen nach dem Tode. This work, based on the Kantian philosophy, denies future recognition. There is an able reply to it by Vogel, Ueber die Hoffnung des Wiedersehens. in regard to reunion in a future state, we are very soon struck with surprise at the mysterious reserve, so characteristic of its pages, on this entire theme. Instead of a full and minute revelation blazing along the track of the gospel pens, a few fragmentary intimations, incidental hints, scattered here and there, are the substance of all that it expressly says. But though little is directly declared, yet much is plainly implied: especially the one great inference with which we are now concerned may be unequivocally and repeatedly drawn. In the parable of the Rich Man and the Beggar the Savior pictures forth the recognition of their souls in the disembodied state. Dives also is described as recollecting with intense interest, with the most anxious sympathy, his endangered brethren on earth. Although this occurs in a parable, yet it is likely that so prominent and vital a feature of it would be moulded, as to its essential significance, in accordance with what the author intended should be received as truth. Jesus also speaks of many who should come from the east and the west and sit down with Abraham and Isaac and Jacob in the kingdom of heaven; from which it would appear that the patriarchs are together in fellowship and that the righteous of after times were to be received with them in mutual acquaintance. On the Mount of Transfiguration the witnessing disciples saw Moses and Elias together with Jesus, and recognised them, probably from their resemblance to traditional descriptions of them. Jesus always represented the future state as a society. He said to his followers, "I go to prepare a place for you, that where I am there ye may be also;" and he prayed to his Father that his disciples might be with him where he was going. At another time he declared of little children, "Their angels always behold the face of my Father in heaven:" he also taught that "there is joy in heaven over every sinner that repenteth;" passages that presuppose such a community of faculties, sympathies, in heaven and earth, in angels and men, as certainly implies the doctrine of continued knowledge and fellowship. When heaven was opened before the dying Stephen, he saw and instantly knew his Divine Master, the Lord Jesus, and called to him to welcome his ascending spirit. Paul writes to the Thessalonians that he would not have them sorrow concerning the dead as those who have no hope, assuring them that when Christ reappears they shall all be united again. In the Apocalypse, John saw, in a vision, the souls of the martyrs, who had died for the faith of the gospel, together, under the altar. From community of suffering and a common abode together in heaven we may safely infer their recognition of each other. The Gospels declare that Christ after his death remembered his disciples and came back to them to assure them that they should rejoin him on high; and the apostles assert that we are to be with Christ and to be like him in the future state. It follows from the admission of these declarations that we shall remember our friends and be united with them in conscious knowledge. Few, and brief, and vague as the utterances of the Scriptures are in relation to this theme, they necessarily involve all the results of an avowed doctrine. They undeniably involve the supposition that in the other life we shall be conscious personalities as here, retaining our memories and constituting a society. From these implications the fact of the future recognition of friends irresistibly results, unless there be some special interference to prevent it; and such an interposition there is no hint of and can be no reason for fearing. Such is really all that we can learn from the Scriptures on the subject of our inquiry.4 Its indirectness and brevity would convince us that God did not intend to betray to us in clear light the secrets of the shrouded future, that for some reason it is best that his teaching should be so reserved, and leave us to the haunting wonder, the anxious surmise, the appalling mystery, the alluring possibilities, that now meet our gaze on the unmoving veil of death. God intends we shall trust in him without knowledge, and by faith, not by sight, pursue his guidance into the silent and unknown land. Therefore, after analyzing the relevant facts of present experience and inferring what we can from them, and after studying the Scriptures and finding what they say, there is yet another method of considering the problem of recognition in the future state. That is without caring for critical discussion, without deferring to extraneous authority, we may follow the gravitating force of instinct, imagination, and moral reason. We are made to love and depend on each other. The longer, the more profoundly, we know and admire the good, the more our being becomes intertwined with theirs, so much the more intensely we desire to be with them always, and so much the more awful is the agony of separation. This, what is it but great Nature's testimony, God's silent avowal, that we are to meet in eternity? Can the fearful anguish of bereavement be gratuitous? can the yearning prophecies of the smitten heart be all false? Belief in reunion hereafter is spontaneously adopted by humanity. We therefore esteem it divinely ordered or true. Without that soothing and sustaining trust, the unrelieved, intolerable wretchedness in many cases would burst through the fortress of the mind, hurl reason from its throne, and tear the royal affections and their attendants in the trampled dust of madness. Many a rarely gifted soul, unknown in his nameless privacy of life, has been so conjoined with a worthy peer, through precious bonds of unutterable sympathy, that, rather than be left behind, "the divided half of such a friendship as had mastered time," he has prayed that they, dying at once, might, involved together, hover across the dolorous strait to the other shore, and "Arrive at last the blessed goal Where He that died in Holy Land Might reach them out the shining hand And take them as a single soul." Denied that inmost wish, the rest of his widowed life below has been one melancholy strain of "In Memoriam." Many a faithful and noble mourner, whose garnered love and hope have been blighted for this world, would tell you that, without meeting his lost ones there, heaven itself would be no heaven to him. In such a state of soul we must expect to know again in an unfading clime the cherished dead. That belief is of Divine inspiration, an arrangement to heal the deadly wounds of sorrow. It is madness not to think it a verity. Who believes, as he shall float through the ambrosial airs of heaven, he could touch, in passing, the radiant robes of his chosen friends without a thrill of recognition, the prelude to a blissful and immortal communion? Is there not truth in the poet's picture of the meeting of child and parent in heaven? 4 Harbaugh, The Heavenly Recognition. Gisborne, Recollections of Friends in the World to Come. Muston, Perpetuation of Christian Friendship. "It was not, mother, that I knew thy face: The luminous eclipse that is on it now, Though it was fair on earth, would have made it strange Even to one who knew as well as he loved thee; But my heart cried out in me, Mother!" Think of the unfathomable yearnings, the infinite ecstasies of desire and faith from age to age swelling in the very heart of the world, all set on the one hope of future union, and who then can believe that God will coldly blast them all? They are innocent, they are holy, they are meritorious, they are unspeakably dear. We would not destroy them; and God will not. Man's life is the true fable of that beautiful youth, Narcissus, who had a twin sister of remarkable loveliness, strongly resembling himself, and to whom he was most tenderly attached. She dies young. He frequents fountains to gaze upon his own image reflected in the waters, it seeming to him the likeness of her he has lost. He is in pity transformed into a flower on the border of a stream, where, bending on his fragile stem, he seeks his image in the waters murmuring by, until he fades and dies. Has not God, the all loving Author who composed the sweet poem of Man and Nature, written at the close a reconciling Elysium wherein these pure lovers, the fond Narcissus and his echo mate, shall wander in perennial bliss, their embracing forms mirrored in unruffled fountains? Looking now for the conclusion of the whole matter, we find that it lies in three different aspects, both of inquiring thought and of practical morality, according to the lights and modes in which three different classes of minds approach it. To the consistent metaphysician, reasoning rigidly on grounds of science and philosophy, every thing pertaining to the methods and circumstances of the future life is an affair of entire uncertainty and hypothesis.5 If in the future state the soul retains its individuality as an identical force, form, life, and memory, and if associates in the present state are brought together, it is probable that old friends will recognise each other. But if they are oblivious of the past, if they are incommunicably separated in space or state, if one progresses so much farther that the other can never overtake him, if the personal soul blends its individual consciousness with the unitary consciousness of the Over Soul, if it commences a new career from a fresh psychical germ, then, by the terms, there will be no mutual recognition. In that case his comfort and his duty are to know that the anguish and longing he now feels will cease then; to trust in the benignity of the Infinite Wisdom, who knows best what to appoint for his creatures; and to submit with harmonizing resignation to the unalterable decree, offering his private wish a voluntary sacrifice on the altar of natural piety. That he shall know his friends hereafter is not impossible, not improbable; neither is it certain. He may desire it, expect it, but not with speculative pride dogmatically affirm it, nor with insisting egotism presumptuously demand it. 5 Gravell, Das Wiedersehen nach dem Tode. Wie es nur sein konne. To the uncritical Christian the recognising reunion of friends in heaven is an unshaken assurance.6 There is nothing to disturb his implicit reception of the plain teaching of Scripture. The legitimate exhortations of his faith are these. Mourn not too bitterly nor too long over your absent dead; for you shall meet them in an immortal clime. As the last hour comes for your dearest ones or for yourself, be of good cheer; for an imperishable joy is yours. You: "Cannot lose the hope that many a year Hath shone on a gleaming way, When the walls of life are closing round And the sky grows sombre gray." Put not away the intruding thoughts of the departed, but let them often recur. The dead are constant. You know not how much they may think of you, how near they may be to you. Will you pass to meet them not having thought of them for years, having perhaps forgotten them? Let your mind have its nightly firmament of religious communion, beneath which white and sable memories shall walk, and the sphered spirits of your risen friends, like stars, shed down their holy rays to soothe your feverish cares and hush every murmuring doubt to rest. From the dumb heavings of your loving and trustful heart, sometimes exclaim, Parents who nurtured and watched over me with unwearied affection, I would remember you oft, and love you well, and so live that one day I may meet you at the right hand of God. Early friends, so close and dear once, who in the light of young romance trod with me life's morning hills, neither your familiar faces nor your sweet communion are forgotten by me: I fondly think of you, and aspire towards you, and pray for a purer soul, that I may mount to your celestial circle at last; "For many a tear these eyes must weep, And many a sin must be forgiven, Ere these pale lids shall sink to sleep, Ere you and I shall meet in heaven." Blessed Jesus, elder Brother of our race, who sittest now by thy Father's throne, or pacest along the crystal coast as a leader, chief among ten thousand, whose condescending brow the bloody thorns no longer press, but the dazzling crown of thy Divinity encircles, oh, remember us, poor erring pilgrims after thine earthly steps; pity us, help us, and after death bring us to thy home. To the sympathetic poet, the man of sentiment and meditation, who views the question from the position of the heart, in the glory and vistas of the imagination, but with all the known facts and relations of the subject lying bare under his sight, the uniting restoration, in another sphere, of earth's broken ties and parted friends, is an unappeasable craving of the soul, in harmony with the moral law, powerfully prophesied to his experience from all quarters, and seemingly confirmed to his hopes by every promise of God and nature.7 6 Grafe, Biblische Beitrage zu der Frage, Werden wir uns wiedersehen nach dem Tode. 7 Engel, Wir werden uns wiedersehen. Halst, Beleuchtung der Hauptgrunde fur den Glauben an Erinnerung und Wiedersehen nach dem Tode. Streicher, Neue Beitrage zur Kritik des Glaubens an Ruckerinnerung nach dem Tode. Received as a truth, it is a well of inexhaustible comfort, making experience a green oasis where it overflows. The denial of it as a proven falsehood is a withering blast of dust blowing on the friendly caravan of sojourners in the desert of life. If existence is the enjoyment of a largess of social love, and death is to have a solitary hand snatch it all away forever, how dismal is the prospect to the poor heart that loves and clings, loses and despairs, and can only falter hopelessly on! It cannot be so. Love is the true prophet. Heaven will restore the treasures earth has lost. The mourner by the grave! Eve convulsed over the form of Abel! Jesus weeping where Lazarus lay! America embracing the urn of Washington! The Genius of Humanity at the Tomb of the Past! It is the most pathetic spectacle of the world. As in the old myth the pelican, hovering over her dead broodlets, pierced her own breast in agony and fluttered there until by the fanning of her wings above them and the dropping of her warm blood on them they were brought to life again, so the great Mother of men seems in history to brood over the ashes of departed ages, dropping the tears of her grief and faith into the future to restore her deceased children to life and draw them together within her embrace. And that sublime Rachel will not easily be comforted except when her thoughts, migrating whither her offspring have gone, seem to find them happy in some happy heaven. The poet, lover of his race, who cannot trust his happier instinct, but perforce believes that beyond the sepulchral line of mortality he shall know no more of his friends, may find, as helps to a willing acquiescence in what is fated, either one of two possible contemplations.8 He may sadly lay upon his heart the stifling solace, There will be no baffled wants nor unhappiness, but all will be over when hic jacet is sculptured on the headstone of my grave. Or, with measureless rebound of faith, he may crowd the capacity of his soul with the mysterious presentiment, In the unchangeable fulness of an infinite bliss, all specialties will be merged and forgotten, and I shall be one of those to whom "the wearisome disease" of remembered sorrow and anticipated joy "is an alien thing." 8 Wieland's Euthanasia expresses disbelief in the preservation of personality and consciousness after death. The same ground had been taken in the work published anonymously at Halle in 1775, Plato and Leibnitz jenseits des Styx. See, on the other side of the question, Wohlfahrt, Tempel der Unsterblichkeit, oder neue Anthologie der wichtigsten Ausspruche, besonders neuerer Weisen uber Wiedersehen u. s. w. CHAPTER VII. LOCAL FATE OF MAN IN THE ASTRONOMIC UNIVERSE. ACCORDING to the imagining of some speculative geologists, perhaps this earth first floated in the abyss as a volume of vapor, wreathing its enormous folds of mist in fantastic shapes as it was borne along on the idle breath of law. Ages swept by, until this stupendous fog ball was condensed into an ocean of fire, whose billows heaved their lurid bosoms and reared their ashy crests without a check, while their burning spray illuminated its track around the sable vault. During periods which stagger computation, this molten world was gradually cooled down; constant rivers wrung from the densely swathing vapor poured over the heated mass and at last submerged its crust in an immense sea. Then, for unknown centuries, fire, water, and wind waged a Titanic war, that imagination shudders to think of, jets of flame licking the stars, massive battlements and columns of fire piled to terrific heights, now the basin of the sea suddenly turned into a glowing caldron and the atmosphere saturated with steam, again explosions hurling mountains far into space and tearing the earth open in ghastly rents to its very heart. At length the fire was partially subdued, the peaceful deep glassed the sky in its bosom or rippled to the whispers of the breeze, and from amidst the fertile slime and mould of its sheltered floor began to sprout the first traces of organic life, the germs of a rude species of marine vegetation. Thousands of years rolled on. The world ocean subsided, the peaks of mountains, the breasts of islands, mighty continents, emerged, and slowly, after many tedious processes of preparation, a gigantic growth of grass, every blade as large as our vastest oak, shot from the soil, and the incalculable epoch of ferns commenced, whose tremendous harvest clothed the whole land with a deep carpet of living verdure. While unnumbered growths of this vegetation were successively maturing, falling, and hardening into the dark layers of inexhaustible coal beds, the world, one waving wilderness of solemn ferns, swept in its orbit, voiceless and silent, without a single bird or insect of any kind in all its magnificent green solitudes, the air everywhere being heavily surcharged with gases of the deadliest poison. Again innumerable ages passed, and the era of mere botanic growths reaching its limit, the lowest forms of animal life moved in the waters, the earliest creatures being certain marine reptiles, worms, and bugs of the sea. Then followed various untimed periods, during which animal life rose by degrees from mollusk and jellyfish, by plesiosaurus and pterodactyl, horrible monsters, hundreds of feet in length, whose tramp crashed through the woods, or whose flight loaded the groaning air, to the dolphin and the whale in the sea, the horse and the lion on the land, and the eagle, the nightingale, and the bird of paradise in the air. Finally, when millions of aons had worn away, the creative process culminated in Humanity, the crown and perfection of all; for God said, "Let us make man in our own image;" and straightway Adam, with upright form, kingly eye, and reason throned upon his brow, stood on the summit of the world and gave names to all the races of creatures beneath.1 At this stage two important questions arise. The first is, whether man is the final type of being intended in the Divine plan for this world, or whether he too is destined in his turn to be superseded by a higher race, endowed with form, faculties, and attributes transcending our conceptions, even as our own transcended the ideas of the previous orders of existence. Undoubtedly, had the ichthyosaurus, ploughing through the deep and making it boil like a pot, or one of those mammoth creatures of the antediluvian age who browsed half a dozen trees for breakfast, crunched a couple of oxen for luncheon and a whole flock of sheep for his dinner, been consulted on a similar problem, he would have replied, without hesitation, "I exhaust the uses of the world. What animal can there be superior to me? beyond a question, my race shall possess the earth forever!" The mastodon could not know any uses of nature except those he was fitted to experience, nor imagine a being with the form and prerogatives of man. Therefore he would not believe that the mastodon race would ever be displaced by the human. We labor under the same disqualification for judgment. There may be in the system of nature around us adaptations, gifts, glories, as much higher than any we enjoy as our noblest powers and privileges are in advance of those of the tiger or the lark. It is a remarkable fact that the mature states of the antediluvian races correspond with the foetal states of the present races, and that the foetal states of embryonic man are counterparts of the mature states of the lower races now contemporaneous with him. This great discovery of modern science, though perhaps destitute of logical value, suggests to the imagination the thought that man may be but the foetal state of a higher being, a regent temporarily presiding here until the birth and inauguration of the true king of the world, and destined himself to be born from the womb of this world into the free light and air of the spirit kingdom! The resources of God are inexhaustible; and in the evolution of his prearranged ages it may be that there will arise upon the earth a race of beings of unforetold majesty, who shall disinter the remnant bones and ponder the wrecked monuments of forgotten man as we do those of the disgusting reptiles of the Saurian epoch. But this is a mere conceit of possibility; and, so far as the data for forming an opinion are in our hands, it is altogether incredible. So far as appears, the adaptation between man and the earth is exhaustive. He is able to subdue all her forces, reign over all her provinces, enjoy all her delights, and gather into his consciousness all her prophecies. And our practical conviction is absolute that the race of men is the climax of being destined for this earth, and that they will occupy its hospitable bosom forever with their toils and their homes, their sports and their graves.2 The other question is this: Was the subjection of the human race to physical death a part of the Creator's original plan, or the retributive result of a subsequent dislocation of that plan by sin? a part of the great harmony of nature, or a discord marring the happy destiny 1 Harris, The Pre Adamite Earth. 2 Agassiz says no higher creature than man is to be expected on earth, because the capacities of the earthly plan of organic creation are completed and exhausted with him. Introduction to Study of Natural History, p. 57. of man? Approaching this problem on grounds of science and reason alone, there can be no hesitation as to the reply. There are but two considerations really bearing upon the point and throwing light upon it; and they both force us to the same conclusion. First, it is a fact admitting no denial that death was the predetermined natural fate of the successive generations of the races that preceded man. Now, what conceivable reason is there for supposing that man, constructed from the same elements, living under the same organic laws, was exempt from the same doom? There is not in the whole realm of science a single hint to that effect. Secondly, the reproductive element an essential feature in the human constitution, leading our kind to multiply and replenish the earth is a demonstration that the office of death entered into God's original plan of the world. For otherwise the earth at this moment could not hold a tithe of the inhabitants that would be demanding room. When God had permitted this world to roll in space for awful ages, a lifeless globe of gas, fire, water, earth, and then let it be occupied for incommensurable epochs more by snails, vermin, and iguanodons, would he wind up the whole scene and destroy it when the race of man, crowning glory of all, had only flourished for a petty two thousand years? It is not credible. And yet it must have been so unless it was decreed that the successive generations should pass away and thus leave space for, the new comers. We conclude, then, that it is the will of God and was in the beginning that the human race shall possess the earth through all the unknown periods of the future, the parents continually passing off the stage in death as the children rise upon it to maturity. We cannot discern any authority in those old traditions which foretell the impending destruction of the world. On what grounds are we to believe them? The great system of things is a stable harmony. There is no wear or tear in the perfect machinery of the creation, rolling noiseless in its blue bearings of ether. It seems, comparatively speaking, to have just begun. Its oscillations are self adjusted, and science prophesies for humanity an illimitable career on this earthly theatre. The swift melting of the elements and restoration of chaos is a mere heathen whim or a poetic figment. It is the bards who sing, "The earth shall shortly die. Her grave is dug. I see the worlds, night clad, all gathering In long and dark procession. And the stars, Which stand as thick as glittering dewdrops on The fields of heaven, shall pass in blazing mist." Such pictures are delusion winning the imagination, not truth commanding the reason. In spite of all the Cassandra screams of the priesthood, vaticinating universal ruin, the young old earth, fresh every spring, shall remain under God's preserving providence, and humanity's inexhaustible generations renewedly reign over its kingdoms, forever. Plotinus said, "If God repents having made the world, why does he defer its destruction? If he does not yet repent, he never will, as being now accustomed to it, and becoming through time more friendly to it." 3 Lucan says, "Our bones and the stars shall be mingled on one funeral pyre." Communis mundo superest rogus, ossibus astra Misturus. But to receive such a good piece of poetry as veritable prevision is surely a puerile error which a mature mind in the nineteenth century should be ashamed to commit. The most recently broached theory of the end of the world is that developed from some remarkable speculations as to the composition and distribution of force. The view is briefly this. All force is derived from heat. All heat is derived from the sun.4 The mechanical value of a cubic mile of sunlight at the surface of the earth is one horse power for a third of a minute; at the sun it is fifteen thousand horse power for a minute. Now, it is calculated that enough heat is radiated from the sun to require for its production the annual consumption of the whole surface of the sun to the depth of from ten to twenty miles. Of course, ultimately the fuel will be all expended; then the forces of the system will expire, and the creation will die.5 This brilliant and sublime theorem assumes, first, that the heat of the sun arises from consumption of matter, which may not be true; secondly, that it is not a self replenishing process, as it certainly may be. Some have even surmised that the zodiacal light is an illuminated tornado of stones showering into the sun to feed its tremendous conflagration. The whole scheme is a fine toy, but a very faint terror. Even if it be true, then we are to perish at last from lack of fire, and not, as commonly feared, from its abundance! The belief of mankind that a soul or ghost survives the body has been so nearly universal as to appear like the spontaneous result of an instinct. We propose to trace the history of opinions concerning the physical destination of this disembodied spirit, its connection with localities, to give the historical topography of the future life. The earliest conception of the abode of the dead was probably that of the Hebrew Sheol or the Greek Hades, namely, the idea born from the silence, depth, and gloom of the grave of a stupendous subterranean cavern full of the drowsy race of shades, the indiscriminate habitation of all who leave the land of the living. Gradually the thought arose and won acceptance that the favorites of Deity, peerless heroes and sages, might be exempt from this dismal fate, and migrate at death to some delightful clime beyond some far shore, there, amidst unalloyed pleasures, to spend immortal days. This region was naturally located on the surface of the earth, where the cheerful sun could shine and the fresh breezes blow, yet in some untrodden distance, where the gauntlet of fact had not smitten the sceptre of fable. The paltry portion of this earth familiar to the ancients was surrounded by an unexplored region, which their fancy, stimulated by the legends of the poets, peopled with mythological kingdoms, the rainbow bowers and cloudy synods of Olympus, from whose glittering peak the Thunderer threw his bolts over the south; the Golden Garden of the 3 Ennead ii. lib. ix.: Contra Gnosticos, cap. 4. 4 Helmholtz, Edinburgh Phil. Msg., series iv. vol. xi.: Interaction of Natural Forces. 5 Thomson, Ibid. Dec. 1854: Mechanical Energies of the Solar System. Hesperides, whose dragons lay on guard in the remote west; the divine cities of Meru, whose encircling towers pierced the eastern sky; the Banquet Halls of Ethiopia, gleaming through the fiery desert; the fragrant Islands of Immortality, musical and luring in the central ocean; the happy land of the Hyperboreans, beyond the snowy summits of northern Caucasus: "How pleasant were the wild beliefs That dwelt in legends old! Alas! to our posterity Will no such tales be told. We know too much: scroll after scroll Weighs down our weary shelves: Our only point of ignorance Is centred in ourselves." There was a belief among the Persians that Kaf, a mountain two thousand miles high, formed a rim to the flat world and prevented travellers from ever falling off.6 The fact that the earth is a globe inhabited on all sides is a comparatively recent piece of knowledge. So late as in the eighth century Pope Zachary accused Virgilius, an Irish mathematician and monk, of heresy for believing in the existence of antipodes.7 St. Boniface wrote to the Pope against Virgilius; and Zachary ordered a council to be held to expel him from the Church, for "professing, against God and his own soul, so perverse and wicked a doctrine." To the ancients all beyond the region they had traversed was an unknown land, clothed in darkness, crowded with mystery and allurement. Across the weltering wastes of brine, in a halcyon sea, the Hindu placed the White Isle, the dwelling of translated and immortalized men.8 Under the attraction of a mystic curiosity, well might the old, wearied Ulysses say, "Come, my friends, 'Tis not too late to seek a newer world. Push off, and, sitting well in order, smite The sounding furrows; for my purpose holds To sail beyond the sunset, and the baths Of all the western stars, until I die. It may be that the gulfs will wash us down: It may be we shall touch the Happy Isles, And see the great Achilles, whom we knew." Decius Brutus and his army, as Florus relates, reaching the coast of Portugal, where, for the first time, they saw the sun setting in the blood tinged ocean, turned back their standards with horror as they beheld "the huge corpse of ruddy gold let down into the deep." The Phoenician traders brought intelligence to Greece of a people, the Cimmerians, who dwelt on the borders of Hades in the umbered realms of perpetual night. To the dying Roman, on the farthest verge of the known horizon hovered a vision of Elysian Fields. And the American 6 Adventures of Hatim Tai, p. 36, note. 7 Whewell, Hist. Inductive Sciences, vol. i. book iv. ch. i. sect. 7. 8 Wilford, Essays on the Sacred Isles, In Asiatic Researches, vols. viii. xi. Indian, sinking in battle or the chase, caught glimpses of happier Hunting Grounds, whose woods trooped with game, and where the arrows of the braves never missed, and there was no winter. There was a pretty myth received among some of the ancient Britons, locating their paradise in a spot surrounded by tempests, far in the Western Ocean, and named Flath Innis, or Noble Island.9 The following legend is illustrative. An old man sat thoughtful on a rock beside the sea. A cloud, under whose squally skirts the waters foamed, rushed down; and from its dark womb issued a boat, with white sails bent to the wind, and hung round with moving oars. Destitute of mariners, itself seemed to live and move. A voice said, "Arise, behold the boat of heroes: embark, and see the Green Isle of those who have passed away!" Seven days and seven nights he voyaged, when a thousand tongues called out, "The Isle! the Isle!" The black billows opened before him, and the calm land of the departed rushed in light on his eyes. We are reminded by this of what Procopius says concerning the conveyal of the soul of the barbarian to his paradise. At midnight there is a knocking at the door, and indistinct voices call him to come. Mysteriously impelled, he goes to the sea coast, and there finds a frail, empty wherry awaiting him. He embarks, and a spirit crew row him to his destination.10 "He finds with ghosts His boat deep freighted, sinking to the edge Of the dark flood, and voices hears, yet sees No substance; but, arrived where once again His skiff floats free, hears friends to friends Give lamentable welcome. The unseen Shore faint resounds, and all the mystic air Breathes forth the names of parent, brother, wife." During that period of poetic credulity while the face of the earth remained to a great extent concealed from knowledge, wherever the Hebrew Scriptures were known went the cherished traditions of the Garden of Eden from which our first parents were driven for their sin. Speculation naturally strove to settle the locality of this lost paradise. Sometimes it was situated in the mysterious bosom of India; sometimes in the flowery vales of Georgia, where roses and spices perfumed the gales; sometimes in the guarded recesses of Mesopotamia. Now it was the Grand Oasis in the Arabian desert, flashing on the wilted pilgrim, over the blasted and blazing wastes, with the verdure of palms, the play of waters, the smell and flavor of perennial fruits. Again it was at the equator, where the torrid zone stretched around it as a fiery sword waving every way so that no mortal could enter. In the "Imago Mundi," a Latin treatise on cosmography written early in the twelfth century, we read, "Paradise is the extreme eastern part of Asia, and is made inaccessible by a wall of fire surrounding it and rising unto heaven." At a later time the Canaries were thought to be the ancient Elysium, and were accordingly named the Fortunate Isles. Indeed, among the motives that animated 9 Macpherson, Introduction to the History of Great Britain and Ireland, pp. 180-186. 10 Procopius, Gothica, lib. iv. Columbus on his adventurous voyage no inferior place must be assigned to the hope of finding the primeval seat of Paradise.11 The curious traveller, exploring these visionary spots one by one, found them lying in the light of common day no nearer heaven than his own natal home; and at last all faith in them died out when the whole surface of the globe had been surveyed, no nook left wherein romance and superstition might any longer play at hide and seek. Continuing our search after the local abode of the departed, we now leave the surface of the earth and descend beneath it. The first haunted region we reach is the realm of the Fairies, which, as every one acquainted with the magic lore of old Germany or England knows, was situated just under the external ground, and was clothed with every charm poets could imagine or the heart dream. There was supposed to be an entrance to this enchanted domain at the Peak Cavern in Derbyshire, and at several other places. Sir Walter Scott has collected some of the best legends illustrative of this belief in his "History of Demonology." Sir Gawaine, a famous knight of the Round Table, was once admitted to dine, above ground, in the edge of the forest, with the King of the Fairies: "The banquet o'er, the royal Fay, intent To do all honor to King Arthur's knight, Smote with his rod the bank on which they leant, And Fairy land flash'd glorious on the sight; Flash'd, through a silvery, soft, translucent mist, The opal shafts and domes of amethyst; Flash'd founts in shells of pearl, which crystal walls And phosphor lights of myriad hues redouble. There, in the blissful subterranean halls, When morning wakes the world of human trouble Glide the gay race; each sound our discord knows, Faint heard above, but lulls them to repose." To this empire of moonlit swards and elfin dances, of jewelled banks, lapsing streams, and enchanting visions, it was thought a few favored mortals might now and then find their way. But this was never an earnest general faith. It was a poetic superstition that hovered over fanciful brains, a legendary dream that pleased credulous hearts; and, with the other romance of the early world, it has vanished quite away. The popular belief of Jews, Greeks, Etruscans, Romans, Germans, and afterwards of Christians, was that there was an immense world of the dead deep beneath the earth, subdivided into several subordinate regions. The Greenlanders believed in a separated heaven and hell, both located far below the Polar Ocean. According to the old classic descriptions of the under world, what a scene of colossal gloom it is! Its atmosphere murmurs with a breath of plaintive sighs. Its population, impalpable ghosts timidly flitting at every motion, 11 Irving, Life of Columbus: Appendix on the Situation of the Terrestrial Paradise. By far the most valuable book ever published on this subject is that of Schulthess, Das Paradies, das irdische und uberirdische historische, mythische und mystische, nebst einer kritischen Revision der allgemelnen biblischen Geographie. crowd the sombre landscapes in numbers surpassing imagination. There Cocytus creeps to the seat of doom, his waves emitting doleful wails. Styx, nine times enfolding the whole abode, drags his black and sluggish length around. Charon, the slovenly old ferryman, plies his noiseless boat to and fro laden with shadowy passengers. Far away in the centre grim Pluto sits on his ebony throne and surveys the sad subjects of his dreadful domain. By his side sits his stolen and shrinking bride, Proserpine, her glimmering brows encircled with a wreath of poppies. Above the subterranean monarch's head a sable rainbow spans the infernal firmament; and when, with lifted hand, he announces his decrees, the applause given by the twilight populace of Hades is a rustle of sighs, a vapor of tears, and a shudder of submission. The belief in this dolorous kingdom was early modified by the reception of two other adjacent realms, one of reward, one of torture; even as Goethe says, in allusion to the current Christian doctrine, "Hell was originally but one apartment: limbo and purgatory were afterwards added as wings." Passing through Hades, and turning in one direction, the spirit traveller would arrive at Elysium or Abraham's bosom: "To paradise the gloomy passage winds Through regions drear and dismal, and through pain, Emerging soon in beatific blaze Of light." There the blessed ones found respite and peaceful joys in flowery fields, pure breezes, social fellowship, and the similitudes of their earthly pursuits. In this placid clime, lighted by its own constellations, favored souls roamed or reposed in a sort of ineffectual happiness. According to the pagans, here were such heroes as Achilles, such sages as Socrates, to remain forever, or until the end of the world. And here, according to the Christians, the departed patriarchs and saints were tarrying expectant of Christ's arrival to ransom them. Dante thus describes that great event: "Then he, who well my covert meaning knew, Answer'd, Herein I had not long been bound, When an All puissant One I saw march through, With victory's radiant sign triumphal crown'd. He led from us our Father Adam's shade, Abel and Noah, whom God loved the most, Lawgiving Moses, him who best obey'd, Abraam the patriarch, royal David's ghost; Israel, his father, and his sons, and her Whom Israel served for, faithfully and long, Rachel, with more, to bliss did He transfer: No souls were saved before this chosen throng." 12 At the opposite extremity of Hades was supposed to be an opening that led down into Tartarus, "a place made underneath all things, so low and horrible that hell is its heaven." Here the old earth giants, the looming Titans, lay, bound, transfixed with thunderbolts, their 12 Parsons's trans. Dell' Inferno, canto iv. ii. 55-63. mountainous shapes half buried in rocks, encrusting lava, and ashes. Rivers of fire seam the darkness, whose borders are braided with sentinel furies. On every hand the worst criminals, perjurers, blasphemers, ingrates, groan beneath the pitiless punishments inflicted on them without escape. Any realization of the terrific scenery of this whole realm would curdle the blood.13 There were fabled entrances to the dread under world at Acherusia, in Bithynia, at Avernus, in Campania, where Ulysses evoked the dead and traversed the grisly abodes, through the Sibyl's cave at Cuma, at Hermione, in Argolis, where the people thought the passage below so near and easy that they neglected to give the dying an obolus to pay ferriage to Charon, at Tanarus, the southern most point of Peloponnesus, where Herakles went down and dragged the three headed dog up into day, at the cave of Trophonius, in Lebadea, and at several other places. Similar conceptions have been embodied in the ecclesiastical doctrine which has generally prevailed in Christendom. Locating the scene in the hollow of the earth, thus has it been described by Milton, "A dungeon horrible on all sides round As one great furnace flamed; yet from those flames No light, but rather darkness visible, Served only to discover sights of woe, Regions of anguish, doleful shades, where peace Nor hope can come, but torture without end Still urges, and a fiery deluge fed With ever burning sulphur unconsumed;" wherein, confined by adamantine walls, the fallen angels and all the damned welter overwhelmed with floods and whirlwinds of tempestuous fire. Shapes once celestially fair and proud, but now scarred from battle and darkened by sin into faded forms of haggard splendor, support their uneasy steps over the burning marl. Everywhere shrieks and moans resound, and the dusky vault of pandemonium is lighted by a blue glare cast pale and dreadful from the tossings of the flaming lake. This was hell, where the wicked must shrink and howl forever. Etna, Vesuvius, Stromboli, Hecla, were believed to be vent holes from this bottomless and living pit of fire. The famous traveller, Sir John Maundeville, asserted that he found a descent into hell "in a perilous vale" in the dominions of Prester John. Many a cavern in England still bears the name of "Hell hole." In a dialogue between a clerk and a master, preserved in an old Saxon catechism, the following question and reply occur: "Why is the sun so red when she sets?" "Because she looks down upon hell." Antonius Rusca, a learned professor at Milan, in the year 1621, published a huge quarto in five books, giving a detailed topographical account of the interior of the earth, hell, purgatory, and limbo.14 There is a lake in the south of Ireland in which is an island containing a cavern said to open down into hell. This cave 13 Descriptions of the sufferings of hell, according to the popular notions at different periods, are given in the work published at Weimar in 1817, Das Rad der ewigen Hollenqual. In den Curiositaten der physisch literarisch artistisch historischen Vor und Mitwelt, band vi. st. 2. 14 De Inferno et Statn Damonum ante Mundi Exitium. is called St. Patrick's Purgatory, and the pretence obtained quite general credit for upwards of five centuries. Crowds of pilgrims visited the place. Some who had the hardihood to venture in were severely pinched, beaten, and burned, by the priests within, disguised as devils, and were almost frightened out of their wits by the diabolical scenes they saw where "Forth from the depths of flame that singed the gloom Despairing wails and piercing shrieks were heard." Several popes openly preached in behalf of this gross imposition; and the Church virtually authorized it by receiving the large revenues accruing from it, until at last outraged common sense demanded its repudiation and suppression.15 Few persons now, as they walk the streets and fields, are much disturbed by the thought that, not far below, the vivid lake of fire and brimstone, greedily roaring for new food, heaves its tortured surges convulsed and featured with souls. Few persons now shudder at a volcanic eruption as a premonishing message freshly belched from hell.16 In fact, the old belief in a local physical hell within the earth has almost gone from the public mind of to day. It arose from pagan myths and figures of speech based on ignorant observation and arbitrary fancy, and with the growth of science and the enlightenment of reason it has very extensively fallen and faded away. No honest and intelligent inquirer into the matter can find the slightest valid support for such a notion. It is now a mere tradition, upheld by groundless authority. And yet the dim shadow of that great idea of a subterranean hell which once burned so fierce and lurid in the brain of Christendom still vaguely haunts the modern world. The dogma still lies in the prevalent creeds, and is occasionally dragged out and brandished by fanatic preachers. The transmitted literature and influences of the past are so full of it that it cannot immediately cease. Accordingly, while the common understanding no longer grasps it as a definite verity, it lingers in the popular fancy as a half credible image. The painful attempts made now and then by some antiquated or fanatical clergyman to compel attention to it and belief in it as a tangible fact of science, as well as an unquestionable revelation of Scripture, scarcely win a passing notice, but provoke a significant smile. Father Passaglia, an eminent Jesuit theologian, in 1856 published in Italy a work on the Literality of Hell Fire and the Eternity of the Punishments of the Damned. He says, "In this world fire burns by chemical operations; but in hell it burns by the breath of the Lord!" The learned and venerable Faber, a voluminous author and distinguished English divine, published in the year 1851 a large octavo entitled "The Many Mansions in the House of the Father," discussing with elaborate detail the question as to the locality of the scenes awaiting souls after death. His grand conclusion the unreasonableness of which will be apparent without comment is as follows: "The saints having first risen with Christ into the highest regions of the air, out of reach of the dreadful heat, the tremendous flood of fire hitherto detained inside the earth will be let loose, and an awful conflagration rage till the whole material globe is dissipated into sublimated particles. Then the world will be formed anew, in three parts. First, there will be 15 Wright, St. Patrick's Purgatory: an Essay on the Legends of Paradise, Hell, and Purgatory, current during the Middle Ages. 16 Patuzzi, De Sede inferni in Terris quarenda. a solid central sphere of fire the flaming nucleus of Gehenna two thousand miles in diameter. Secondly, there shall roll around this central ball on all sides an ignited ocean of liquid fire two thousand miles in depth, the peculiar residence of the wicked, the sulphurous lake spoken of in the Apocalypse. Thirdly, around this infernal sea a vast spherical arch will hang, a thousand miles thick, a massive and unbroken shell, through which there are no spiracles, and whose external surface, beautiful beyond conception, becomes the heaven of the redeemed, where Christ himself, perfect man as well as perfect God, fixes his residence and establishes the local sovereignty of the Universal Archangel." 17 A comfortable thought it must be for the saints, as they roam the flowery fields, basking in immortal bliss, to remember that under the crust they tread, a soundless sea of fire is forever plunging on its circular course, all its crimson waves packed with the agonized faces of the damned as thick as drops! The whole scheme is without real foundation. Science laughs at such a theory. Its scriptural supports are either ethnic figments or rhetorical tropes. Reason, recollecting the immateriality of the soul, dissipates the ghastly dream beyond the possibility of restoration to belief. Following the historic locations of the abode of departed souls, we next ascend from the interior of the earth, and above the surface of the earth, into the air and the lofty realms of ether. The ancient Caledonians fixed the site of their spirit world in the clouds. Their bards have presented this conception in manifold forms and with the most picturesque details. In tempests the ghosts of their famous warriors ride on the thunderbolts, looking on the earth with eyes of fire, and hurling lances of lightning. They float over the summits of the hills or along the valleys in wreaths of mist, on vapory steeds, waving their shadowy arms in the moonlight, the stars dimly glimmering through their visionary shapes. The Laplanders also placed their heaven in the upper air, where the Northern Lights play. They regarded the auroral streamers as the sport of departed spirits in the happy region to which they had risen. Such ideas, clad in the familiar imagery furnished by their own climes, would naturally be suggested to the ignorant fancy, and easily commended to the credulous thoughts, of the Celts and Finns. Explanation and refutation are alike unnecessary. Plutarch describes a theory held by some of the ancients locating hell in the air, elysium in the moon.18 After death all souls are compelled to spend a period in the region between the earth and the moon, the wicked in severe tortures and for a longer time, the good in a mild discipline soon purging away all their stains and fitting them for the lunar paradise. After tarrying a season there, they were either born again upon the earth, or transported to the divine realm of the sun. Macrobius, too, says, "The Platonists reckon as the infernal 17 Part iv. chap. ix. p. 417. Dr. Cumming (The End, Lect. X.) teaches the doctrine of the literal resurrection of the flesh, and the subsequent residence of the redeemed on this globe as their eternal heaven under the immediate rule of Christ. Quite a full detail of the historic and present belief in this scheme may be found in the recent work of its earnest advocate, D. T. Taylor, The Voice of the Church on the Coming of the Redeemer, or a History of the Doctrine of the Reign of Christ on Earth. 18 In his Essay on the Face in the Orb of the Moon. region the whole space between the earth and the moon."19 He also adds, "The tropical signs Cancer and Capricorn are called the gates of the sun, because there he meets the solstice and can go no farther. Cancer is the gate of men, because by it is the descent to the lower regions; Capricorn is the gate of gods, because by it is a return for souls to the rank of gods in the seat of their proper immortality." 20 The Manicheans taught that souls were borne to the moon on leaving their bodies, and there washed from their sins in water, then taken to the sun and further cleansed in fire. They described the moon and sun as two splendid ships prepared for transferring souls to their native country, the world of perfect light in the heights of the creation.21 The ancient Hebrews thought the sky a solid firmament overarching the earth, and supporting a sea of inexhaustible waters, beyond which God and his angels dwelt in monopolized splendor. Eliphaz the Temanite says, "Is not God in the height of heaven? And behold the stars, how high they are; but he walketh upon the arch of heaven!" And Job says, "He covereth the face of his throne, and spreadeth his clouds under it. He hath drawn a circular bound upon the waters to the confines of light and darkness." From the dazzling realm above this supernal ocean all men were supposed, until after the resurrection of Christ, to be excluded. But from that time the belief gradually spread in Christendom that a way was open for faithful souls to ascend thither. Ephraim the Syrian,22 and Ambrose, located paradise in the outermost East on the highest summit of the earth, stretching into the serene heights of the sky. The ancients often conceived the universe to form one solid whole, whose different provinces were accessible from each other to gods and angels by means of bridges and golden staircases. Hence the innumerable paradisal legends associated with the mythic mountains of antiquity, such as Elborz, Olympus, Meru, and Kaf. Among the strange legends of the Middle Age, Gervase of Tilbury preserves the following one, illustrative of this belief in a sea over the sky: "One Sunday the people of an English village were coming out of church, a dark, gloomy day, when they saw the anchor of a ship hooked to one of the tombstones, the cable, tightly stretched, hanging down the air. Presently they saw a sailor sliding down the rope to unfix the anchor. When he had just loosened it the villagers seized hold of him; and, while in their hands, he quickly died, as though he had been drowned!" There is also a famous legend called "St. Brandon's Voyage." The worthy saint set sail from the coast of Ireland, and held on his way till he arrived at the moon, which he found to be the location of hell. Here he saw Judas Iscariot in execrable tortures, regularly respited, however, every week from Saturday eve till Sunday eve! The thought so entirely in accordance with the first impression made by the phenomenon of the night sky on the ignorant senses and imagination that the stars are set in a firm revolving dome, has widely prevailed; and the thought that heaven lies beyond that solid arch, in the unknown space is a popular notion lingering still. The scriptural image declaring that the convulsions of the last day will shake the stars from their sockets in the 19 In Somnium Scipionis, lib. i. cap. xi. 20 Ibid. cap. xii. 21 Augustine, De Natura Boni, cap. xliv. 22 De Paradiso Eden, Sermo I. heavenly floor, "as a fig tree casteth her untimely figs when she is shaken of a mighty wind," although so obviously a figure of speech, has been very generally credited as the description of a literal fact yet to occur. And how many thousands of pious Christians have felt, with the sainted Doddridge, "Ye stars are but the shining dust Of my Divine abode, The pavement of those heavenly courts Where I shall see my God!" The universal diffusion in civilized nations of the knowledge that the visible sky is no substantial expanse, but only an illimitable void of space hung with successive worlds, has by no means banished the belief, originally based on the opposite error, in a physical heaven definitely located far overhead, the destination of all ransomed souls. This is undoubtedly the most common idea at the present time. An English clergyman once wrote a book, afterwards translated into German, to teach that the sun is hell, and that the black spots often noticed on the disk of that orb are gatherings of damned souls.23 Isaac Taylor, on the contrary, contends with no little force and ingenuity that the sun may be the heaven of our planetary system, a globe of immortal blessedness and glory.24 The celebrated Dr. Whiston was convinced that the great comet which appeared in his day was hell. He imagined it remarkably fitted for that purpose by its fiery vapor, and its alternate plunges, now into the frozen extremity of space, now into the scorching breath of the sun. Tupper fastens the stigma of being the infernal prison house on the moon, in this style: "I know thee well, O Moon, thou cavern'd realm, Sad satellite, thou giant ash of death, Blot on God's firmament, pale home of crime, Scarr'd prison house of sin, where damned souls Feed upon punishment: Oh, thought sublime, That amid night's black deeds, when evil prowls Through the broad world, thou, watching sinners well, Glarest o'er all, the wakeful eye of Hell!" Bailey's conception is the darker birth of a deeper feeling: "There is a blind world, yet unlit by God, Rolling around the extremest edge of light, Where all things are disaster and decay: That black and outcast orb is Satan's home That dusky world man's science counteth not Upon the brightest sky. He never knows How near it comes to him; but, swathed in clouds, As though in plumed and palled state, it steals, Hearse like and thief like, round the universe, Forever rolling, and returning not, 23 Swinden, On the Nature and Location of Hell. 24 Physical Theory of Another Life, chap. xvi. Robbing all worlds of many an angel soul, With its light hidden in its breast, which burns With all concentrate and superfluent woe." In the average faith of individuals to day, heaven and hell exist as separate places located somewhere in the universe; but the notions as to the precise regions in which they lie are most vague and ineffectual when compared with what they formerly were. The Scandinavian kosmos contained nine worlds, arranged in the following order: Gimle, a golden region at the top of the universe, the eternal residence of Allfather and his chosen ones; next below that, Muspel, the realm of the genii of fire; Asgard, the abode of the gods in the starry firmament; Vindheim, the home of the air spirits; Manheim, the earth, or middle realm; Jotunheim, the world of the giants, outside the sea surrounding the earth; Elfheim, the world of the black demons and dwarfs, just under the earth's surface; Helheim, the domain of the goddess of death, deep within the earth's bosom; and finally, Niflheim, the lowest kingdom of horror and pain, at the very bottom of the creation. The Buddhist kosmos, in the simplest form, as some of them conceived it, was composed of a series of concentric spheres each separated from the next by a space, and successively overarching and under arching each other with circular layers of brightness above and blackness beneath; each starry hollow overhead being a heaven inhabited by gods and blessed souls, each lurid hollow underfoot being a hell filled with demons and wicked souls in penance. The Arabian kosmos, beginning with the earth, ascended to a world of water above the firmament, next to a world of air, then to a world of fire, followed in rising order by an emerald heaven with angels in the form of birds, a heaven of precious stones with angels as eagles, a hyacinth heaven with angels as vultures, a silver heaven with angels as horses, a golden and a pearl heaven each peopled with angel girls, a crystal heaven with angel men, then two heavens full of angels, and finally a great sea without bound, each sphere being presided over by a chief ruler, the names of all of whom were familiar to the learned Arabs. The Syrian kosmos corresponded closely to the foregoing. It soared up the mounting steps of earth, water, air, fire, and innumerable choruses successively of Angels, Archangels, Principalities, Powers, Virtues, Dominations, Thrones, Cherubim and Seraphim, unto the Expanse whence Lucifer fell; afterwards to a boundless Ocean; and lastly to a magnificent Crown of Light filling the uppermost space of all.25 It is hard for us to imagine the aspects of the universe to the ancients and the impressions it produced in them, all seemed so different then, in the dimness of crude observation, from the present appearance in the light of astronomic science. Anaximander held that the earth was of cylindrical form, suspended in the middle of the universe and surrounded by envelopes of water, air, and fire, as by the coats of an onion, but that the exterior stratum was broken up and collected into masses, and thus originated the sun, moon, and stars, which are carried around by the three spheres in which they are fixed.26 Many of the Oriental nations believed the planets to be animated beings, conscious divinities, freely marching around their high realms, keeping watch and ward over the creation, smiling their favorites on to happy fortune, 25 Dupuis, L'Origine de tous les Cultes, Planche No. 21. 26 Arist. de Coel. ii. 13. fixing their baleful eyes and shedding disastrous eclipse on "falling nations and on kingly lines about to sink forever." This belief was cherished among the later Greek philosophers and Roman priests, and was vividly held by such men as Philo, Origen, and even Kepler. It is here that we are to look for the birth of astrology, that solemn lore, linking the petty fates of men with the starry conjunctions, which once sank so deeply into the mind of the world, but is now wellnigh forgotten: "No more of that, ye planetary lights! Your aspects, dignities, ascendancies, Your partite quartiles, and your plastic trines, And all your heavenly houses and effects, Shall meet no more devout expounders here. The joy of Jupiter, The exaltation of the Dragon's head, The sun's triplicity and glorious Day house on high, the moon's dim detriment, And all the starry inclusions of all signs, Shall rise, and rule, and pass, and no one know That there are spirit rulers of all worlds, Which fraternize with earth, and, though unknown, Hold in the shining voices of the stars Communion on high and everywhere." The belief that the stars were living beings, combining with the fancy of an unscientific time, gave rise to the stellar apotheosis of heroes and legendary names, and was the source of those numerous asterisms, out lined groups of stars, which still bedeck the skies and form the landmarks of celestial topography. It was these and kindred influences that wrought together "To make the firmament bristle with shapes Of intermittent motion, aspect vague, And mystic bearings, which o'ercreep the earth, Keeping slow time with horrors in the blood;" the Gorgon's petrific Head, the Bear's frightful form, Berenice's streaming Hair, the curdling length of Ophiuchus, and the Hydra's horrid shape. The poetic eye of old religion saw gods in the planets walking their serene blue paths, "Osiris, Bel, Odin, Mithras, Brahm, Zeus, Who gave their names to stars which still roam round The skies all worshipless, even from climes Where their own altars once topp'd every hill." By selected constellations the choicest legends of the antique world are preserved in silent enactment. On the heavenly sea the Argonautss keep nightly sail towards the Golden Fleece. There Herakles gripes the hydra's heads and sways his irresistible club; Arion with his harp rides the docile Dolphin; the Centaur's right hand clutches the Wolf; the Hare flees from the raging eye and inaudible bark of the Dog; and space crawls with the horrors of the Scorpion. In consequence of the earth's revolution in its orbit, the sun appears at different seasons to rise in connection with different groups of stars. It seems as if the sun made an annual journey around the ecliptic. This circuit was divided into twelve parts corresponding to the months, and each marked by a distinct constellation. There was a singular agreement in regard to these solar houses, residences of the gods, or signs of the zodiac, among the leading nations of the earth, the Persians, Chaldeans, Hebrews, Syrians, Hindus, Chinese, Arabians, Japanese, Siamese, Goths, Javanese, Mexicans, Peruvians, and Scandinavians. 27 Among the various explanations of the origin of these artificial signs, we will notice only the one attributed by Volney to the Egyptians. The constellations in which the sun successively appeared from month to month were named thus: at the time of the overflow of the Nile, the stars of inundation, (Aquarius;) at the time of ploughing, stars of the ox, (Taurus;) when lions, driven forth by thirst, appeared on the banks of the Nile, stars of the lion, (Leo;) at the time of reaping, stars of the sheaf, (Virgo;) stars of the lamb and two kids, (Aries,) when these animals were born; stars of the crab, (Cancer,) when the sun, touching the tropic, returned backwards; stars of the wild goat, (Capricorn,) when the sun reached the highest point in his yearly track; stars of the balance, (Libra,) when days and nights were in equilibrium; stars of the scorpion, (Scorpio,) when periodical simooms burned like the venom of a scorpion; and so on of the rest.28 The progress of astronomical science from the wild time when men thought the stars were mere spangles stuck in a solid expanse not far off, to the vigorous age when Ptolemy's mathematics spanned the scope of the sky; from the first reverent observations of the Chaldean shepherds watching the constellations as gods, to the magnificent reasonings of Copernicus dashing down the innumerable crystalline spheres, "cycle on epicycle, orb on orb," with which crude theorizers had crowded the stellar spaces; from the uncurbed poetry of Hyginus writing the floor of heaven over with romantic myths in planetary words, to the more wondrous truth of Le Verrier measuring the steps from nimble Mercury flitting moth like in the beard of the sun to dull Neptune sagging in his cold course twenty six hundred million miles away; from the half inch orb of Hipparchus's naked eye, to the six feet speculum of Rosse's awful tube; from the primeval belief in one world studded around with skyey torch lights, to the modern conviction of octillions of inhabited worlds all governed by one law constitutes the most astonishing chapter in the history of the human mind. Every step of this incredible progress has had its effect in modifying the conceptions of man's position and importance in nature and of the connection of his future fate with localities. Of old, the entire creation was thought to lie pretty much within the comprehension of man's unaided senses, and man himself was supposed to be the chief if not the sole object of Divine providence. The deities often came down in incarnations and mingled with their favorites and rescued the earth from evils. Every thing was anthropomorphized. Man's relative magnitude and power were believed to be such that he fancied during an eclipse that, by screams, the crashing of gongs, and magic rites, he could scare away the monsters 27 Pigott, Scandinavian Mythology, chap. i. p. 31. 28 Volney, Ruins, chap. xxii. sect. 3. Maurice, Hist. Hindostan, vol. i. pp. 145-147. who were swallowing the sun or the moon. Meteors shooting through the evening air the Arabs believed were fallen angels trying to get back into heaven but hurled from the crystal battlements by the flaming lances of the guardian watchers. Then the gazer saw "The top of heaven full of fiery shapes, Of burning cressets." Now the student contemplates an abyss swarming with orbs each out weighing millions of our earth. Then they read their nativities in the planets and felt how great must be the state overwatched by such resplendent servitors. Now "They seek communion with the stars that they may know How petty is this ball on which they come and go." Then the hugest view of the extent of the universal sphere was that an iron mass would require nine days and nights to plunge from its Olympian height to its Tartarean depth. Now we are told by the masters of science that there are stars so distant that it would take their light, travelling at a rate of nearly twelve million miles a minute, thirty million years to reach us. The telescope has multiplied the size of the creation by hundreds of millions, and the grandest conception of the stellar universe possible to the most capacious human mind probably bears no larger proportion to the fact than an orrery does to the solar system. Our earth is a hundred million miles from the sun, whose diameter is so monstrous that a hundred such orbs strung in a straight line would occupy the whole distance. The sun, with all his attendant planets and moons, is sweeping around his own centre supposed by some to be Alcyone at the rate of four hundred thousand miles a day; and it will take him eighteen million years to complete one revolution. Our firmamental cluster contains, it has been calculated, in round numbers about twenty million stars. There are many thousands of such nebula visible, some of them capable of packing away in their awful bosoms hundreds of thousands of our galaxies. Measure off the abysmal space into seven hundred thousand stages each a hundred million miles wide, and you reach the nearest fixed stars, for instance, the constellation of the Lyre. Multiply that inconceivable distance by hundreds of thousands, and still you will discern enormous sand banks of stars obscurely glittering on the farthest verge of telescopic vision. And even all this is but a little corner of the whole. Coleridge once said, "To some infinitely superior Being, the whole universe may be as one plain, the distance between planet and planet being only as the pores in a grain of sand, and the spaces between system and system no greater than the intervals between one grain and the grain adjacent." One of the vastest thoughts yet conceived by any mortal mind is that of turning the universe from a mechanical to a chemical problem, as illustrated by Prof. Lovering.29 Assuming the acknowledged truths in physics, that the ultimate particles of matter never actually touch each other, and that water in evaporating expands into eighteen hundred times its previous volume, he demonstrates that the porosity of our solar system is no greater than that of steam. "The porosity of granite or gold may be equal to that of steam, 29 Cambridge Miscellany, 1842. the greater density being a stronger energy in the central forces." And the conclusion is scientifically reached that "the vast interval between the sun and Herschel is an enormous pore, while the invisible distance that separates the most closely nestled atoms is a planetary space, a stupendous gulf when compared with the little spheres between which it flows." Thus we may think of the entire universe as a living organism, like a ripening orange, its component atoms worlds, the sidereal movements its vital circulation. Surely, when a man looks up from his familiar fields and household roof to such incommensurable objects as scientific imagination reveals in the sparkling sword handle of Perseus and the hazy girdle of Andromeda, overpowering humility will fill his breast, an unutterable solemnity will "fall on him as from the very presence chamber of the Highest." And will he not, when he contemplates the dust like shoals of stars, the shining films of firmaments, that retreat and hover through all the boundless heights, the Nubecula nebula, looking like a bunch of ribbons disposed in a true love's knot, that most awful nebula whirled into the shape and bearing the name of the Dumb Bell, the Crab nebula, hanging over the infinitely remote space, a sprawling terror, every point holding millions of worlds, thinking of these all transcendent wonders, and then remembering his own inexpressible littleness, how that the visible existence of his whole race does not occupy a single tick of the great Sidereal Clock, will he not sink under helpless misgivings, will he not utterly despair of immortal notice and support from the King of all this? In a word, how does the solemn greatness of man, the supposed eternal destiny of man, stand affected by the modern knowledge of the vastness of creation? Regarding the immensities receding over him in unfathomable abysses bursting with dust heaps of suns, must not man be dwarfed into unmitigated contempt, his life and character rendered absolutely insignificant, the utmost span of his fortunes seeming but as the hum and glitter of an ephemeron in a moment's sunshine? Doubtless many a one has at times felt the stupendous truths of astronomy thus palsying him with a crushing sense of his own nothingness and burying him in fatalistic despair. Standing at night, alone, beneath the august dome studded from of old with its ever blazing lights, he gazes up and sees the innumerable armies of heaven marshalled forth above him in the order and silence of their primeval pomp. Peacefully and forever they shine there. In nebula separated from nebula by trillions of leagues, plane beyond plane, they stretch and glitter to the feet of God. Falling on his knees, he clasps his hands in speechless adoration, but feels, with an intolerable ache of the heart, that in this infinitude such an one as he can be of no consequence whatever. He waits passively for the resistless round of fate to bear him away, ah, whither? "Conscious that he dwells but as an atom of dust on the outskirts of a galaxy of inconceivable glory" moving through eternity in the arms of law, he becomes, in his own estimation, an insensible dot lost in the uncontainable wilderness of firmamental systems. But this conclusion of despair is a mistake as sophistical as it is injurious, as baseless in reality as it is natural in seeming. Its antidote and corrective are found in a more penetrative thought and juster understanding of the subject, which will preserve the greatness and the immortal destiny of man unharmed despite the frowning vastitudes of creation. This will appear from fairly weighing the following considerations. In the first place, the immensity of the material universe is an element entirely foreign to the problem of human fate. When seeking to solve the question of human destiny, we are to study the facts and prophecies of human nature, and to conclude accordingly. It is a perversion of reason to bring from far an induction of nebular magnitudes to crush with their brute weight the plain indications of the spirit of humanity. What though the number of telescopic worlds were raised to the ten thousandth power, and each orb were as large as all of them combined would now be? what difference would that make in the facts of human nature and destiny? It is from the experience going on in man's breast, and not from the firmaments rolling above his head, that his importance and his final cause are to be inferred. The human mind, heart, and conscience, thought, love, faith, and piety, remain the same in their intrinsic rank and capacities whether the universe be as small as it appeared to the eyes of Abraham or as large as it seems in the cosmical theory of Humboldt. Thus the spiritual position of man really remains precisely what it was before the telescope smote the veils of distance and bared the outer courts of being. Secondly, if we do bring in the irrelevant realms of science to the examination of our princely pretensions, it is but fair to look in both directions. And then what we lose above we gain below. The revelations of the microscope balance those of the telescope. The animalcula magnify man as much as the nebulsa belittle him. We cannot help believing that He who frames and provides for those infinitesimal animals quadrillions of whom might inhabit a drop of water or a leaf and have ample room and verge enough, and whose vital and muscular organization is as complicated and perfect as that of an elephant, will much more take care of man, no matter how numerous the constellations are. Let us see how far scientific vision can look beneath ourselves as the question is answered by a few well known facts. In each drop of human blood there are three million vitalized corpuscular disks. Considering all the drops made up in this way, man is a kosmos, his veins galaxies through whose circuits these red clustering planets perform their revolutions. How small the exhaling atoms of a grain of musk must be, since it will perfume every breath of air blowing through a hall for a quarter of a century, and then not be perceptibly diminished. An ounce of gold may be reduced into four hundred and thirty two billion parts, each microscopically visible.30 There is a deposit of slate in Bohemia covering forty square miles to the depth of eight feet, each cubic inch of which Ehrenberg found by microscopic measurement to contain forty one thousand million infusorial animals. Sir David Brewster says, "A cubic inch of the Bilin polieschiefer slate contains above one billion seven hundred and fifty thousand millions of distinct individuals of Galionella ferruginea."31 It is a fact that the size of one of these insects as compared with the bulk of a man is virtually as small as that of a man compared with the whole scheme of modern astronomy. Thus, if the problem of our immortal consequence is prejudicially vitiated by contemplating the immense extremity of vision, it is rectified by gazing on the opposite extremity. If man justly scrutinized, without comparisons, is fitted for and worthy of eternity, 30 Lardner, Hand Book of Natural Philosophy, book i. chap. v.31 More Worlds than One, ch. viii. note 3. no foreign facts, however magnificent or minute, should alter our judgment from the premises. Thirdly, is it not evident that man's greatness keeps even pace along the scale of magnitude with the widening creation, since it is his mind that sees and comprehends how wondrous the dimensions of the universe are? The number of stars and the limits of space are not more astounding than it is that he should be capable of knowing such things, enumerating and staking them off. When man has measured the distance and weighed the bulk of Sirius, it is more appropriate to kneel in amazement before the inscrutable mystery of his genius, the irrepressible soaring of his soul, than to sink in despair under the swinging of those lumps of dirt in their unapproachable spheres because they are so gigantic! The appearance of the creation to man is not vaster than his perception of it. They are exactly correlated by the very terms of the statement. As the astronomic world expands, the astronomer's mind dilates and must be as large as it in order to contain it in thought. What we lose in relative importance from the enlargement of the boundaries of the universe we gain from the new revelation of our capacities that is made through these transcendent achievements of our science. That we are favorites of the Creator and destined for immortal glories is therefore logically and morally just as credible after looking through Herschel's forty feet reflector and reading La Place's Mecanique Celeste as it would be were this planet, suspended in a hollow dome, the entirety of material being. Furthermore, we can reason only from the data we have; and, doing that, we should conclude, from the intrinsic and incomparable superiority of spirit to matter, that man and his kindred scattered in families over all the orbs of space were the especial objects of the infinite Author's care. They are fitted by their filial attributes to commune with Him in praise and love. They know the prodigious and marvellous works of mechanical nature; mechanical nature knows nothing. Man can return his Maker's blessing in voluntary obedience and thanks; matter is inanimate clay for the Potter's moulding. Turning from the gleaming wildernesses of star land to the intellect and heart, appreciating the infinite problems and hopes with which they deal and aspire, we feel the truth expressed by Wordsworth in his tremendous lines: "I must, aloft ascending, breathe in worlds To which the heaven of heavens is but a veil. Not chaos, darkest pit of Erebus, Nor aught of blinder vacancy, scoop'd out By help of dreams, can breed such fear and awe As fall upon us often when we look Into our minds, into the mind of man." Is not one noble thought of truth, one holy emotion of love, one divine impulse of devotion, better than a whole planet of mud, a whole solar system of gas and dust? Who would not rather be the soul that gauges the deeps, groups the laws, foretells the movements, of the universe, writing down in a brief mathematical formula a complete horoscope of the heavens as they will appear on any given night thousands of years hence, than to be all that array of swooping systems? To think the world is to be superior to the world. That which appreciates is akin to that which makes; and so we are the Creator's children, and these crowding nebula, packed with orbs as thick as the ocean beach with sands, are the many mansions of the House fitted up for His abode and ours. An only prince would be of more consideration than a palace, although its foundation pressed the shoulders of Serpentarius, its turret touched the brow of Orion, and its wings reached from the Great Bear to the Phoenix. So a mind is of more importance than the material creation, and the moral condition of a man is of greater moment than the aspect of stellar firmaments. Another illustration of the truth we are considering is to be drawn from the idealist theory, to which so many of the ablest thinkers of the world have given their devoted adhesion, that matter is merely phenomenal, no substantial entity, but a transient show preserved in appearance for some ulterior cause, and finally, at the withdrawal or suspension of God's volition, to return into annihilating invisibility as swiftly as a flash of lightning. The solid seeming firmaments are but an exertion of Divine force projected into vision to serve for a season as a theatre for the training of spirits. When that process is complete, in the twinkling of an eye the phantasmal exhibition of matter will disappear, leaving only the ideal realm of indestructible things, souls with their inward treasures remaining in their native sphere of the infinite, while the outward universe "Doth vanish like a ghost before the sun." The same practical result may also be reached by a different path, may be attained by the road of physics as well as by that of transcendental metaphysics. For Newton has given in his Principia a geometrical demonstration of the infinite compressibility of matter. All the worlds, therefore, that cluster in yon swelling vault can be condensed into a single globe of the size of a walnut; and then, on that petty lump of apparent substance, the enfranchised soul might trample in an exultation of magnanimous scorn upon the whole universe of earths, and soar through its own unlimited dominion, Monarch of Immortality, the snatched glory of shrunken firmaments flashing from its deathless wings. Finally, a proper comprehension of the idea of God will neutralize the skepticism and despondency sometimes stealthily nourished or crushingly impressed by contemplations of the immensity of nature. If one, from regarding the cold and relentless mechanism of the surrounding system, tremble for fear of there being no kind Overruler, let him gaze on the warm beauty that flushes the countenance of day, the mystic meditativeness that hangs on the pensive and starry brow of night, let him follow the commanding instincts of his own heart, and he will find himself clinging in irresistible faith and filial love to the thought of an infinite Father. If still the atheistic sentiment obtrudes upon him and oppresses him, let him observe how every spot of immensity whereon the eye of science has fallen is crowded with unnumbered amazing examples of design, love, beneficence, and he will perceive that the irrefragable lines of argument drawn through the boundless spaces of creation light up the stupendous contour of God and show the expression of his features to be love. It seems as though any man acquainted with the truths and magnitudes of astronomy, who, after seeing the star strewn abysses, would look in his mirror and ask if the image reflected there is that of the greatest being in the universe, would need nothing further to convince him that a God, the Creator, Preserver, Sovereign, lives. And then, if, mistakenly judging from his own limitations, he thinks that the particular care of all the accumulated galaxies of worlds, every world perhaps teeming with countless millions of conscious creatures, would transcend the possibilities even of God, a moment's reflection will dissolve that sophistry in the truth that God is infinite, and that to his infinite attributes globule and globe are alike, the oversight of the whole and of each part a matter of instantaneous and equal ease. Still further: if this abstract truth be insufficient to support faith and bestow peace, what will he say to the visible fact that all the races of beings, and all the clusters of worlds, from the motes in a sunbeam to the orbs of the remotest firmament, are now taken care of by Divine Providence? God now keeps them all in being and order, unconfused by their multiplicity, unoppressed by their magnitude, and not for an instant forgetting or neglecting either the mightiest or the least. Morbidly suspicious, perversely incredulous, must be the mind that denies, since it is so now in this state, that it may be so as well in the other state and forever! Grasping the conception of one God, who creates, rules, and loves all, man may unpresumptuously feel himself to be a child of the Infinite and a safe heir of immortality. Looking within and without, and soaring in fancy amidst the blue and starry altitudes interspersed with blazing suns and nebulous oceans, he may cry, from a sober estimate of all the experimental and phenomenal facts within his reach, "Even here I feel, Among these mighty things, that as I am I am akin to God; that I am part Of the use universal, and can grasp Some portion of that reason in the which The whole is ruled and founded; that I have A spirit nobler in its cause and end, Lovelier in order, greater in its powers, Than all these bright and swift immensities." Perhaps the force of these arguments may be better condensed and expressed by help of an individual illustration. While the pen is forming these words, the announcement of the death of Dr. Kane saddens the world. Alas that the gallant heart no longer beats, the story of whose noble generosity and indomitable prowess has just thrilled the dull nations of men of meaner mould! Who even though standing before a telescope under the full architecture of the heavens can believe that that maiden soul of heroism and devotion is now but an extinguished spark, that the love, honor, intelligence, self sacrificing consecration which enswathed him as with a saintly halo have all gone out? Turning from that pale form, stretched on the couch of death in fatal Cuba, through the receding gulfs of space where incomputable systems of worlds are wheeling on their eternal courses, and then looking back again from the noiseless glitter and awful bulk of the creation, do you despair of the immortal consequence of the poor sufferer whose fleshly moorings to existence are successively loosening at every gasp? Ah, remember that Matter and the Soul are not alone! Far above that clay bound, struggling soul, and far above those measureless, firmamental masses, is God, the Maker of them both, and the Lover of his child. Glancing in His omniscience down upon that human death couch, around which affectionate prayers are floating from every part of the earth, and from whose pallid occupant confiding sighs are rising to His ear, He sees the unutterable mysteries of yearning thought, emotion, and power, which are the hidden being of man, and which so ally the filial spirit to the parent Divinity. As beneath His gaze the faithful soul of Elisha Kane slowly extricating itself from its overwrought tabernacle, and also extricating itself from the holy network of heart strings which sixty millions of men speaking one speech have flung around him, if haply so they might retain him to earth to take their love and waiting honors rises into the invisible, seeking to return, bearing its virgin purity with it, to the bosom of God, will He overlook it, or carelessly spurn it into night, because the banks of stars are piled up so thick and high that they absorb His regards? My soul, come not thou into the counsels of them that think so! It should not be believed though astronomy were a thousand times astronomy. But it shall rather be thought that, ere now, the brave American has discovered the Mariner whom he sought, though sailing on far other seas, where there is no destroying winter and no need of rescue. In association with the measureless spaces and countless worlds brought to light by astronomic science naturally arises the question whether the other worlds are, like our earth, peopled with responsible intelligences. In ancient times the stars were not generally thought to be worlds, but to be persons, genii or gods. At the dawn of creation "the morning stars sang together;" that is, "the sons of God shouted for joy." The stars were the living army of "Jehovah of hosts." At the time when the theological dogmas now prevalent were first conceived, the greatness and glory of the universe were supposed to centre on this globe. The fortunes of man wellnigh absorbed, it was imagined, the interest of angels and of God. The whole creation was esteemed a temporary theatre for the enactment of the sublime drama of the fall and redemption of man. The entire heavens with all their host were thought to revolve in satellite dependence around this stationary and regal planet. For God to hold long, anxious, repeated councils to devise means to save us, was not deemed out of keeping with the relative dignity of the earth and the human race. But at length the progress of discovery put a different aspect on the physical conditions of the problem. The philosopher began to survey man's habitation and history, and to estimate man's comparative rank and destiny, not from the stand point of a solitary planet dating back only a few thousand years, but in the light of millions of centuries of duration and from a position among millions of crowded firmaments whence our sun appears as a dim and motionless star. This new vision of science required a new construction of theology. The petty and monstrous notions of the ignorant superstition of the early age needed rectification. In the minds of the wise and devout few this was effected; but with the great majority the two sets of ideas existed side by side in unreconciled confusion and contradiction, as they even continue to do unto this day. When it came to be believed that the universe teemed with suns, moons, and planets, composed of material substances, subject to day and night, and various other laws and changes, like our own abode, it was natural to infer that these innumerable worlds were also inhabited by rational creatures akin to ourselves and capable of worshipping God. Numerous considerations, possessing more or less weight, were brought forward to confirm such a conclusion. The most striking presentation ever made of the argument, perhaps, is that in Oersted's essay on the "Universe as a Single Intellectual Realm." It became the popular faith, and is undoubtedly more so now than ever before. Towards the end of the seventeenth century a work was published in explicit support of this faith by Fontenelle. It was entitled "Conversations on the Plurality of Worlds," and had marked success, running through many editions. A few years later, Huygens wrote a book, called "Cosmotheoros," in maintenance of the same thesis. The more this doctrine obtained root and life in the convictions of men, the more strongly its irreconcilableness with the ordinary theology must have made itself felt by fearless and competent thinkers. Could a quadrillion firmaments loaded with stars, each inhabited by its own race of free intelligences, all be burned up and destroyed in the Day of Judgment provoked on this petty grain of dust by the sin of Adam? 32 Were the stars mere sparks and spangles stuck in heaven for us to see by, it would be no shock to our reason to suppose that they might be extinguished with our extinction; but, grasping the truths of astronomy as they now lie in the brain of a master in science, we can no longer think of God expelling our race from the joys of being and then quenching the splendors of his hall "as an innkeeper blows out the lights when the dance is at an end." God rules and over rules all, and serenely works out his irresistible ends, incapable of wrath or defeat. Would it be more incongruous for Him to be angry with an ant hill and come down to trample it, than to be so with the earth and appear in vindictive fire to annihilate it? From time to time, in the interests of the antiquated ideas, doubts have been raised as to the validity of the doctrine of stellar worlds stocked with intellectual families.33 Hegel, either imbued with that Gnostic contempt and hatred for matter which described the earth as "a dirt ball for the extrication of light spirits," or from an obscure impulse of pantheistic thought, sullies the stars with every demeaning phrase, even stigmatizing them as "pimples of light." Michelet, a disciple of Hegel, followed his example, and, in a work published in 1840, strove vigorously to aggrandize the earth and man at the expense of the accepted teachings of astronomy.34 With argument and ridicule, wit and reason, he endeavored to make it out that the stars are no better than gleaming patches of vapor. We are the exclusive autocrats of all immensity. Whewell has followed up this species of thought with quite remarkable adroitness, force, and brilliance.35 Whether his motive in this undertaking is purely scientific and artistic, or whether he is impelled by a fancied religious animus, having been bitten by some theological fear which has given him the astrophobia, does not clearly appear. 32 As specimens of the large number of treatises which have been published asserting the destruction of the whole creation in the Day of Judgment, the following may be consulted. Osiander, De Consummatione Saculi Dissertationum Pentus. Lund, De Excidio Universi Totali et Substantiali. Frisch, Die Welt im Feuer, oder das wahre Vergehen und Ende der Welt durch den letzen Sundenbrand. For a century past the opinion has been gaining favor that the great catastrophe will be confined to our earth, and that even this is not to be annihilated, but to be transformed, purged, and beautified by the crisis. See, e. g., Brumhey, Ueber die endliche Umwandlung der Erde durch Feuer. 33 Kurtz, Bibel and Astronomie. Simonton's Eng. trans., ch. vi. sect. 14: Incarnation of God. 34 Vorlesungen uber die ewige Personlichkeit des Geistes. 35 Of a Plurality of Worlds: An Essay. Brewster has replied to Whewell's disturbing essay in a volume which more commands our sympathies and carries our reason, but is less sustained in force and less close in logic.36 Powell has still more recently published a very valuable treatise on the subject;37 and with this work the discussion rests thus far, leaving, as we believe, the popular faith in an astronomic universe of inhabited worlds unshaken, however fatal the legitimate implications of that faith may be to other doctrines simultaneously held.38 It is curious to observe the shifting positions taken up by skepticism in science, now, with powerful recoil from the narrow bigotries of theology, eagerly embracing the sublimest dreams of astronomic speculation, and now inclining to the faith that the remoter stars are but brilliant globules trickling from the poles of some terrible battery in the godless heights of space. But if there be any thing sure in science at all, it is that the material creation is inconceivably vast, including innumerable systems, and all governed by invariable laws. But let us return from this episode. The foregoing sixfold argument, preserving us from the remorseless grasp of annihilation, leaves to us unchanged the problem of the relations which shall be sustained by the disembodied soul to time and space, the question as to the locality of the spirit world, the scene of our future life. Sheol, Hades, Tartarus, Valhalla with its mead brimmed horns, Blessed Isles, Elysium, supernal Olympus, firmamental Heaven, paradisal Eden, definite sites of celestial Worlds for departed souls, the Chaldee's golden orbs, the Sanscrit Meru, the Indian Hunting Ground, the Moslem's love bowers, and wine rivers, and gem palaces thronged with dark eyed houris, these notions, and all similar ones, of material residences for spirits, located and bounded, we must dismiss as dreams and cheats of the childish world's unripe fancy. There is no evidence for any thing of that coarse, crude sort. The fictitious theological Heaven is a deposit of imagination on the azure ground of infinity, like a bird's nest on Himalaya. What, then, shall we say? Why, in the first place, that, while there are reasons enough and room enough for an undisheartened faith in the grand fact of human immortality, it is beyond our present powers to establish any detailed conclusions in regard to its locality or its scenery. But surely, in the second place, we should say that it becomes us, when reflecting on the scenes to be opened to us at death, to rise to a more ideal and sublime view than any of those tangible figments which were the products of untrained sensual imagination and gross materialistic theory. When the fleshly prison walls of the mind fall, its first inheritance is a stupendous freedom. The narrow limits that caged it here are gone, and it lives in an ethereal sphere with no impeding bounds. Leaving its natal threshold of earth and the lazar house of time, its home is immensity, and its lease is eternity. Even in our present state, to a true 36 More Worlds than One the Creed of the Philosopher and the Hope of the Christian. 37 Essay on the Unity or Plurality of Worlds. See, furthermore, in Westminster Review, July, 1858, Recent Astronomy and the Nebular Hypothesis. 38 Volger, Erde and Ewigkeit. (Natural History of the Earth as a Periodical Process of Development in Opposition to the Unnatural Geology of Revolutions and Catastrophes.) Treise, Dag Endlose der grossen und der kleinen materiellen Welt. thinker there is no ascent or descent or terminating wall in space, but equal motion illimitably in all directions; and no absolute standard of duration, only a relative and variable one from the insect of an hour, to man, to an archangel, to that incomprehensible Being whose shortest moments are too vast to be noted by the awful nebula of the Hour Glass, although its rushing sands are systems of worlds. The soul emerges from earthly bondage emancipated into eternity, while "The ages sweep around him with their wings, Like anger'd eagles cheated of their prey." We have now sufficient premonitions and examples of this wondrous enlargement to base a rational belief on. What hems us in when we think, feel, and imagine? And what is the heaven that shall dawn for us beyond the veil of death's domain but the realm of Thought, the sphere of the spirit's unhampered powers? There are often vouchsafed to us here hours of outsoaring emotion and conception which make the enclosures in which the astronomer loiters seem narrow. "His skies are shoal, and imagination, like a thirsty traveller, pants to be through their desert. The roving mind impatiently bursts the fetters of astronomical orbits, like cobwebs in a corner of its universe, and launches itself to where distance fails to follow, and law, such as science has discovered, grows weak and weary." There are moods of spiritual expansion and infinite longing that illustrate the train of thought so well expressed in the following lines: "Even as the dupe in tales Arabian Dipp'd but his brow beneath the beaker's brim, And in that instant all the life of man From youth to age roll'd its slow years on him, And, while the foot stood motionless, the soul Swept with deliberate wing from pole to pole; So when the man the Grave's still portal passes, Closed on the substances or cheats of earth, The Immaterial, for the things earth glasses, Shapes a new vision from the matter's dearth: Before the soul that sees not with our eyes The undefined Immeasurable lies." 39 Then we realize that the spiritual world does not form some now unseen and distant region of the visible creation, but that the astronomic universe is a speck lying in the invisible bosom of the spiritual world. "Space is an attribute of God in which all matter is laid, and other attributes he may have which are the home of mind and soul." We suppose the difference between the present embodied and the future disembodied state to be so vast that the conditions of the latter cannot be intelligibly illustrated by the analogies of the former. It is not to be expected that the human soul will ever be absolutely independent of time and space, literally transcending them, but only relatively so as compared with its earthly predicament. 39 Bulwer, King Arthur, book xi. For, as an able thinker and writer a philosopher of the Swedenborgian school, too has said, "The conception of a mind absolutely sundered from all connection with space is a mere pretence which words necessarily repudiate." The soul on the hypothesis that there is a soul is now in the body. Evidently, on leaving the body, it must either be nowhere, and that is annihilation, which the vehement totality of our thought denies; or everywhere, and that implies infinity, the loss of finite being in boundless Deity, a conclusion which we know of nothing to warrant; or somewhere, and that predicates a surviving individuality related to surrounding externals, which is the prophesied and satisfactory result in which we rest in faith, humbly confessing our ignorance as to all the minutia. It does not necessarily follow from this view, however, that the soul is limited to a fixed region in space. It may have the freedom of the universe. More wonders, and sublimer than mortal fancies have ever suspected, are waiting to be revealed when we die: "For this life is but being's first faint ray, And heaven on heaven make up God's dazzling day." We are here living unconsciously engirt by another universe than the senses can apprehend, thinly veiled, but real, and waiting for us with hospitable invitation. "What are those dream like and inscrutable thoughts which start up in moments of stillness, apparently as from the deeps, like the movement of the leaves during a silent night, in prognostic of the breeze that has yet scarce come, if not the rustlings of schemes and orders of existence near though unseen?" Perchance the range of the abode and destiny of the soul after death is all immensity. The interstellar spaces, which we usually fancy are barren deserts where nonentity reigns, may really be the immortal kingdom colonized by the spirits who since the beginning of the creation have sailed from the mortal shores of all planets. They may be the crowded aisles of the universal temple trod by bright throngs of worshipping angels. The soul's home, the heaven of God, may be suffused throughout the material universe, ignoring the existence of physical globes and galaxies. So light and electricity pervade some solid bodies, as if for them there were no solidity. So, doubtless, there are millions of realities around us utterly eluding our finest senses. "A fact," Emerson says, "is the last issue of spirit," and not its entire extent. "The visible creation is the terminus of the invisible world," and not the totality of the universe. There are gradations of matter and being, from the rock to the flower, from the vegetable to man. Is it most probable that the scale breaks abruptly there, or that other ranks of spiritual existence successively rise peopling the seeming abysses unto the very confines of God? "Can every leaf a teeming world contain, Can every globule gird a countless race, Yet one death slumber in its dreamless reign Clasp all the illumed magnificence of space? Life crowd a grain, from air's vast realms effaced? The leaf a world, the firmament a waste?" An honest historical criticism forces us, however reluctantly, to loose our hold from the various supposed localities of the soul's destination, which have pleased the fancies and won the assent of mankind in earlier times. But it cannot touch the simple and cardinal fact of an immortal life for man. It merely forces us to acknowledge that while the fact stands clear and authoritative to instinct, reason, and faith, yet the how, and the where, and all such problems, are wrapped in unfathomable mystery. We are to obey and hope, not dissect and dogmatize. However the fantastic dreams of the imagination and the subtle speculations of the intellect may shift from time to time, and be routed and vanish, the deep yearning of the heart remains the same, the divine polarity of the reason changes not, and men will never cease fondly to believe that although they cannot tell where heaven is, yet surely there is a heaven reserved for them somewhere within the sheltering embrace of God's infinite providence. We may not say of that kingdom, Lo, here! or Lo, there! but it is wherever God's approving presence extends: and is that not wherever the pure in heart are found? 40 Let every elysian clime the breezes blow over, every magic isle the waves murmur round, every subterranean retreat fancy has devised, every cerulean region the moon visits, every planet that hangs afar on the neck of night, be disenchanted of their imaginary charms, and brought, by the advance of discovery, within the relentless light of familiarity, for the common gaze of fleshly eyes and tread of vulgar feet, still the prophetic MIND would not be robbed of its belief in immortality; still the unquenchable instincts of the HEART would retain, uninjured, the great expectation of ANOTHER WORLD, although no traveller returns from its voiceless bourne to tell in what local direction it lies, no voyager comes back from its mystic port to describe its latitude and longitude on the chartless infinite of space. Turn we now from the lateral distribution of notions as to a future life, to their lineal development. We have seen that the development of belief as to the locality of our future destination has been a chase of places, over the earth, under the earth, through the sky, as fast as the unknown was brought within the known, until it has stopped at the verge of the unknowable. There we stand, confessing our inability to fix the scene. The doctrine of the conditions and contents of the future life has followed the same course as that of its locality. In the first stage of belief the future life consists of the gross conditions and materials of the known present reflected, under the impulse of the senses, into the unknown future. This style of faith prevailed for a vast period, and is not yet obsolete. When the King of Dahomey has done a great feat, he kills a man to carry the tidings to the ghost of his royal father. When he dies himself, a host are killed, that he may enter Deadland with a becoming cortege. His wives also are slain, or commit suicide, that they may rejoin him. The second stage of belief is reached when, under the ethical impulse, only certain refined elements of the present, discriminated portions of the products of reason, imagination and sentiment, are reflected into the future, and accepted as the facts of the life there. Critical processes, applied to thought and faith, cause the rejection of much that was received. That alone which answers to our wants, and has coherence, continues to be held 40 Chalmers, Sermon, Heaven a Character and not a Locality. as truth. An example is afforded by Augustine in his essay, De Libero Arbitrio. He argues that the wicked are kept in being on the out skirts of the material universe; partly wretched, partly happy; too bad for heaven, too good for annihilation; incapable of attaining the summit of their beatified destiny. Not the crude reflection of the present state, but a criticized and purged portion of the results of speculation on it, is thrown forward, and composes the doctrine of the future life. This is the condition of faith in which civilized mankind, for the most part, now are. The third stage of development is that wherein the thinker perceives that it is illegitimate to reflect into the future any of the realities or relations of the present, and then to regard them as the truths of the experience which awaits him after death. His experience here is the resultant of his faculties as related to the universe. Destroy his organization, and what follows? One will say, "Nonentity." Another, more wise and modest, will say, "Something necessarily unknown as yet." We have no better right to project into the ideal space of futurity the ingredients of our thoughts than we have to project there the objects of our senses. Bunsen, whose thought and scholarship included pretty much all the knowledge of mankind, represents this stage of faith. He stands on the religious side of the movement of Science, believing in immortality without defining it. Comte stands on the positivist side, blankly denying all objective immortality. These two represent the results in which, advancing from its opposite sides, the logical development of the doctrine of a future life ends. With Comte, atheistic dogmatism crushing every eternal hope; with Bunsen, Christian faith pointing the child to an eternal home in the Father. For all but fetichistic minds the only choice lies between these two. The organic evolution of the doctrine of a life to come is, therefore, a process of faith beginning with the crude transference of the elements of the present into the future, continuing with refined modifications of that transference, ending with an entire cessation of it as inapplicable and incompetent. Having examined all the historic, experimental, and scientific data within our reach, we pause on the edge of the PART which we know, and wait, with serene trust, though with bowed head and silent lip, before the UNKNOWABLE WHOLE. CHAPTER VIII. CRITICAL HISTORY OF DISBELIEF IN A FUTURE LIFE. IF the first men were conscious spirits who, at the command of God, dropped from the skies into organic forms of matter, or who were created here on an exalted plane of insight and communion far above any thing now experienced by us, then the destination of man to a life after death may originally have been a fact of direct knowledge, universally seen and grasped without any obscuring peradventure. From that state it gradually declined into dubious dimness as successive generations grew sinful, sensual, hardened, immersed and bound in affairs of passion and earth. It became remoter, assumed a questionable aspect, gave rise to discussions and doubts, and here and there to positive disbelief and open denial. Thus, beginning as a clear reality within the vision of all, it sank into a matter of uncertain debate among individuals. But if the first men were called up into being from the earth, by the creative energy of God, as the distinct climax of the other species, then the early generations of our race, during the long ages of their wild and slowly ameliorating state, were totally ignorant of any conscious sequel to the fate seemingly closed in death. They were too animal and rude yet to conceive a spiritual existence outside of the flesh and the earth. Among the accumulating trophies of their progressive intellectual conquests hung up by mankind in the historic hall of experience, this marvellous achievement is one of the sublimest. What a day was that for all humanity forever after, when for the first time, on some climbing brain, dawned from the great Sun of the spirit world the idea of a personal immortality! It was announced. It dawned separately wherever there were prepared persons. It spread from soul to soul, and became the common faith of the world. Still, among every people there were pertinacious individuals, who swore not by the judge and went not with the multitude, persons of less credulous hearts and more skeptical faculties, who demurred at the great doctrine, challenged it in many particulars, gainsaid it on various grounds, disbelieved it from different motives, and fought it with numerous weapons. Whichever of the foregoing suppositions be adopted, that the doctrine of a future life subsided from universal acceptance into party contention, or that it arose at length from personal perception and authority into common credit, the fact remains equally prominent and interesting that throughout the traceable history of human opinion there is a line of dissenters who have thought death the finality of man, and the next world an illusion. The history of this special department of thought opens a wide and fertile subject. To gain a comprehensive survey of its boundaries and a compact epitome of its contents, it will be well to consider it in these two lights and divisions, all the time trying to see, step by step, what justice, and what injustice, is done: first, the dominant motive forces animating the disbelievers; secondly, the methods and materials they have employed. At first thought it would appear difficult to tell what impulses could move persons to undertake, as many constantly have undertaken, a crusade against a faith so dear to man, so ennobling to his nature. Peruse the pages of philosophical history with careful reflection, and the mystery is scattered, and various groups of disbelievers stand revealed, with earnest voices and gestures assailing the doctrine of a future life.1 One company, having their representatives in every age, reject it as a protest in behalf of the right of private judgment against the tyranny of authority. The doctrine has been inculcated by priesthoods, embodied in sacred books, and wrought into the organic social life of states; and acceptance of it has been commanded as a duty, and expected as a decent and respectable thing. To deny it has required courage, implied independent opinions, and conferred singularity. To cast off the yoke of tradition, undermine the basis of power supporting a galling religious tyranny, and be marked as a rebellious freethinker in a generation of slavish conformists, this motive could scarcely fail to exhibit results. Some of the radical revolutionists of the present time say that the doctrine of the divine right of kings and the infallible authority of the priesthood is the living core of the power of tyranny in the world. They therefore deny God and futurity in order to overthrow their oppressors, who reign over them and prey upon them in the name of God and the pretended interests of a future life.2 The true way to secure the real desideratum corruptly indicated in this movement is not by denying the reality of a future life, but by removing the adjustment of its conditions and the administration of its rewards and penalties out of the hands of every clique of priests and rulers. A righteously and benignly ordered immortality, based in truth and adjudicated by the sole sovereignty of God, is no engine of oppression, though a doctrine of heaven and hell irresponsibly managed by an Orphic association, the guardians of a Delphic tripod, the owners of a secret confessional, or the interpreters of an exclusive creed, may be. In a matter of such grave importance, that searching and decisive discrimination, so rare when the passions get enlisted, is especially needed. Because a doctrine is abused by selfish tyrants is no reason for supposing the doctrine itself either false or injurious. No little injury has been done to the common faith in a future life, great disbelief has been provoked unwittingly, by writers who have sought to magnify the importance of revealed religion at the expense of natural religion. Many such persons have labored to show that all the scientific, philosophical, and moral arguments for immortality are worthless, the teachings and resurrection of Christ, the revealed word of God, alone possessing any validity to establish that great truth. An accomplished author says, in a recent work, "The immortality of the soul cannot be proved without the aid of revelation." 3 Bishop Courtenay published, a few years since, a most deliberate and unrelenting attack upon the arguments for the deathlessness of the soul, seeking with persevering remorselessness to demolish every one of them, and to prove that man totally perishes, but will be restored to life at the second coming of Christ.4 There can scarcely be a question that such statements usually awaken and confirm a deep skepticism as to a future life, instead of enhancing a grateful estimate of the gospel. 1 J. A. Luther, Recensetur numerus eorum, qui immortalitatem inficiati sunt. 2 Schmidt, Geschichte der Deutschen Literatur im neunzehnten Jahrhundert, band iii. kap. iv.: Der philosophische Radicalismus. 3 Bowen, Metaphysical and Ethical Science, part ii. ch. ix. The Future States: Their Evidences and Nature considered on Principles Physical, Moral, and Scriptural, with the Design of Showing the Value of the Gospel Revelation. If man is once annihilated, it is hardly credible that he will be identically restored. Such a stupendous and arbitrary miracle clashes with the continuity of the universe, and staggers rather than steadies faith. We should beg such volunteers however sincere and good their intentions to withhold the impoverishing gift of their service. And when kindred reasonings are advanced by such men as the unbelieving Hume, we feel tempted to say, in the language of a distinguished divine speaking on this very point, "Ah, gentlemen, we understand you: you belong to the sappers and miners in the army of the aliens!" Another party of disbelievers have repudiated the whole conception of a future state as a protest against the nonsense and cruelty associated with it in the prevailing superstitions and dogmatisms of their time. From the beginning of history in most nations, the details of another existence and its conditions have been furnished to the eager credulity of the people by the lawless fancies of poets, the fine spinning brains of metaphysicians, and the cold blooded calculations or hot headed zeal of sectarian leaders. Of course a mass of absurdities would grow up around the central germ and a multitude of horrors sprout forth. While the common throng would unquestioningly receive all these ridiculous and revolting particulars, they could not but provoke doubt, satire, flat rejection, from the bolder and keener wits. So we find it was in Greece. The fables about the under world the ferriage over the Styx, poor Tantalus so torturingly mocked, the daughters of Danaus drawing water in sieves all were accredited by the general crowd on one extreme.5 On the other extreme the whole scheme, root and branch, was flung away with scorn. The following epitaph on an unbeliever is attributed to Callimachus. "O Charidas, what are the things below? Vast darkness. And what the returns to earth? A falsehood. And Pluto? A fable. We have perished: this is my true speech to you; but, if you want the flattering style, the Pellaan's great ox is in the shades."6 Meanwhile, a few judicious mediators, neither swallowing the whole gross draught at a gulp, nor throwing the whole away with utter disgust, drank through the strainer of a discriminative interpretation. Because caprice, hatred, and favoritism are embalmed in some perverse doctrine of future punishment is no defensible reason for denying a righteous retribution. Because heaven has been located on a hill top, and its sublime denizens made to eat ambrosia and sometimes to fall out among themselves, is no adequate reason for rejecting the idea of a heavenly life. Puerilities of fancy and monstrosities of passion arbitrarily connected with principles claiming to be eternal truths should be carefully separated, and not the whole be despised and trodden on together. From lack of this analysis and discrimination, in the presence of abnormal excrescences and offensive secretions dislike and disbelief have often flourished where, if judicial thought and conscience had cut off the imposed deformities 5 Plutarch, De Superstition. The reality of the popular credulity and terror in later Rome clearly appears from the fact that Marcus Aurelius had a law passed condemning to banishment "those who do any thing through which men's excitable minds are alarmed by a superstitious fear of the Deity." Nero, after murdering his mother, haunted by her ghost and tortured by the Furies, attempted by magical rites to bring up her shade from below, and soften her vindictive wrath Suetonius, Vita Neronis, cap. xxxiv. 6 Epigram. XIV. and dispelled the discoloring vengeance, faith and love would have been confirmed in contemplating the pure and harmonious form of doctrine left exposed in the beauty of benignant truth. The aim ostensibly proposed by Lucretius, in his elaborate and masterly exposition of the Epicurean philosophy, is to free men from their absurd belief in childish legends and their painful fears of death and hell. As far as merely this purpose is concerned, he might have accomplished it as effectually, perhaps, and more directly, by exposing the adventitious errors without assailing the great doctrine around which they had been gathered. Bion the Borysthenite is reported by Diogenes Laertius to have said, with a sharp humor, that the souls below would be more punished by carrying water in whole buckets than in such as had been bored! A soul may pass into the unseen state though there be no Plutonian wherry, suffer woe though there be no river Pyriphlegethon, enjoy bliss though there be no cup of nectar borne by Hebe. But to fly to rash extremes and build positive conclusions on mere ignorance has always been natural to man, not only as a believer, but also as an iconoclastic denier. A third set of disbelievers in a future life consists of those who advocate the "emancipation of the flesh" and assert the sufficiency of this life when fully enjoyed. They attack the dogma of immortality as the essential germ of asceticism, and abjure it as a protest against that superstitious distrust and gloom which put a ban on the pleasures of the world. These are the earthlings who would fain displace the stern law of self denial with the bland permission of self indulgence, rehabilitate the senses, feed every appetite full, and, when satiated of the banquet of existence, fall asleep under the table of the earth. The countenance of Duty, severe daughter of God, looks commands upon them to turn from dallying ease and luxury, to sacrifice the meaner inclinations, to gird themselves for an arduous race through difficulties, to labor and aspire evermore towards the highest and the best. They prefer to install in her stead Aphrodite crowned with Paphian roses, her eyes aglow with the light of misleading stars, her charms bewitching them with fatal enchantments and melting them in softest joys. The pale face of Death, with mournful eyes, lurks at the bottom of every winecup and looks out from behind every garland; therefore brim the purple beaker higher and hide the unwelcome intruder under more flowers. We are a cunning mixture of sense and dust, and life is a fair but swift opportunity. Make haste to get the utmost pleasure out of it ere it has gone, scorning every pretended bond by which sour ascetics would restrain you and turn your days into penitential scourges. This gospel of the senses had a swarm of apostles in the last century in France, when the chief gates of the cemetery in Paris bore the inscription, "Death is an eternal sleep." It has had more in Germany in this century; and voices of enervating music are not wanting in our own literature to swell its siren chorus.7 Perhaps the greatest prophet it has had was Heine, whose pages reek with a fragrance of pleasure through which sighs, like a fading wail from the solitary string of a deserted harp struck by a lonesome breeze, the perpetual refrain of death! death! death! His motto seems to be, "Quick! let me 7 Pierer, Universal Lexikon, dritte Auflage, Deutsche Literatur, sect. 42. Schmidt, Geschichte der Deutschen Literatur im neuntzehnten Jahrhundert, band iii: kap. i.: Das junge Deutschland. enjoy what there is; for I must die. Oh, the gusty relish of life! Oh, the speechless mystery, the infinite reality, of death!" He says himself, comparing the degradation of his later experience with the soaring enthusiasm of his youth, "It is as if a star had fallen from heaven upon a hillock of muck, and swine were gnawing at it!" These men think that the doctrine of a future life, like a great magnet, has drawn the needle of human activity out of its true direction; that the dominant tendency of the present age is, and of right ought to be, towards the attainment of material well being, in a total forgetfulness to lay up treasures in heaven. The end is enjoyment; the obstacle, asceticism; the means to secure the end, the destruction of faith in immortality, so that man, having nothing left but this world, will set himself to improve and enjoy it. The monkish severity of a morbid and erroneous theology, darkening the present and prescribing pain in it to brighten the future and increase its pleasures, legitimates an earnest reaction. But that reaction should be wise, measured by truth. It should rectify, not demolish, the prevailing faith. For the desired end is most likely to be reached by perceiving, not that all terminates in the grave, but that the greatest enjoyment flows from a self controlling devotedness to noble ends, that the claims of another life are in perfect unison with the interests of this life, that the lawful fruition of every function of human nature, each lower faculty being subordinated to each higher one, and the highest always reigning, at once yields the most immediate pleasure and makes the completest preparation for the hereafter. In the absence of the all irradiating sun of immortality, these disbelievers, exulting over the pale taper of sensual pleasure, remind us of a parcel of apes gathered around a cold glow worm and rejoicing that they have found a fire in the damp, chilly night. Besides the freethinkers, who will not yield to authority, but insist upon standing apart from the crowd, and the satirists, who level their shafts undiscriminatingly against what they perceive associated with absurdity, and the worldlings, who prefer the pleasures of time to the imaginarily contrasted goods of eternity, there is a fourth class of men who oppose the doctrine of a personal immortality as a protest against the burdensome miseries of individuality. The Gipseys exclaimed to Borrow, "What! is it not enough to have borne the wretchedness of this life, that we must also endure another?" 8 A feeling of the necessary limitations and suffering exposures of a finite form of being has for untold ages harassed the great nations of the East with painful unrest and wondrous longing. Pantheistic absorption to lose all imprisoning bounds, and blend in that ecstatic flood of Deity which, forever full, never ebbs on any coast has been equally the metaphysical speculation, the imaginative dream, and the passionate desire, of the Hindu mind. It is the basis and motive of the most extensive disbelief of individual immortality the world has known. "The violence of fruition in these foul puddles of flesh and blood presently glutteth with satiety," and the mortal circuits of earth and time are a round of griefs and pangs from which they would escape into the impersonal Godhead. Sheerly against this lofty strain of poetic souls is that grovelling life of ignorance which, dominated by selfish instincts, crawling on brutish grounds, 8 The Zincali, part ii. ch. i. cannot awaken the creative force of spiritual wants slumbering within, nor lift its head high enough out of the dust to see the stars of a deathless destiny; and a fifth group of disbelievers deny immortality because their degraded experience does not prophesy it. Many a man might say, with Autolycus, "For the life to come, I sleep out the thought of it." A mind holy and loving, communing with God and an ideal world, "lighted up as a spar grot" with pure feelings and divine truths, is mirrored full of incorporeal shapes of angels, and aware of their immaterial disentanglement and eternity. A brain surcharged with fires of hatred, drowsed with filthy drugs, and drenched with drunkenness, will teem, on the contrary, with vermin writhing in the meshes of decaying matter. Cleaving to evanescent things, men feel that they are passing away like leaves on waves; filled with convictions rooted and breathing in eternity, they feel that they shall abide in serene survival, like stars above tempests. Turn from every obscene sight, curb every base propensity, obey every heavenly vision by assimilation of immortal things, sacred self denials and toils, disinterested sympathies and hopes, accumulate divine treasures and kindle the mounting flame of a divine life, and at the same time consciousness will crave and faith behold an illimitable destiny. Experiences worthy of being eternal generate faith in their own eternity. But the ignorant and selfish sensualist, whose total experience is of the earth earthy, who has no realization of pure truth, goodness, beauty, is incapable of sincere faith in immortal life. The dormancy of his higher powers excludes the necessary conditions of such a faith. His ignoble bodily life does not furnish the conscious basis and prophecy of a glorious spiritual life, but shudderingly proclaims the cessation of all his experience with the destruction of his senses. The termination of all the functions he knows, what else can it be but his virtual annihilation? When to the privative degradations of an uncultivated and earthy experience, naturally accompanied by a passive unbelief in immortality, are added the positive coarseness and guilt of a thick insensibility and a wicked life, aggressive disbelief is quite likely to arise, the essay of an uneasy conscience to slay what it feels would be a foe, and strangle the worm that never dies. The denial springing from such sources is refuted when it is explained. Its motive should never by any man be yielded to, much less be willingly nourished. It should be resisted by a devout culture courting the smiles of God, by rising into the loftier airs of meditation and duty, by imaginative sentiment and practical philanthropy, until the eternal instinct, long smothered under sluggish loads of sense and sin, reached by a soliciting warmth from heaven, stirs with demonstrating vitality. The last and largest assemblage of dissenters from the prevailing opinion on this subject comprises those who utter their disbelief in a future existence out of simple loyalty to seeming truth, as a protest against what they think a false doctrine, and against the sophistical and defective arguments by which it has been propped. It may be granted that the five previously named classes are equally sincere in their convictions, honest assailants of error and adherents of truth; but they are actuated by animating motives of a various moral character. In the present case, the ruling motive is purely a determination, as Buchner says, to stand by the facts and to establish the correct doctrine. The directest and clearest way of giving a descriptive account of the active philosophical history of this class of disbelievers will be to follow on the lines of their tracks with statements and criticisms of their procedures.9 Disbelief in the doctrine of a future life for man has planted itself upon bold affirmation, and fortified itself with arguments which may most conveniently be considered under five distinct heads. First is the sensational Argument from Appearance. In death the visible functions cease, the organism dissolves, the mind disappears; there is apparently a total scattering and end of the individual. That these phenomena should suggest the thought of annihilation is inevitable; to suppose that they prove the fact is absurd. It is an arrant begging of the question; for the very problem is, Does not an invisible spiritual entity survive the visible material disintegration? Among the unsound and superstitious attempts to prove the fact of a future life is that founded on narratives of ghosts, appearances and visions of the dead. Dr. Tafel published at Tubingen in 1853 a volume aiming to demonstrate the immortality and personal identity of the soul by citation of ninety cases of supernatural appearances, extending from the history of the ghost whose address to Curtius Rufus is recorded by Tacitus, to the wonderful story told by Renatus Luderitz in 1837. Such efforts are worse than vain. Their data are so explicable in many cases, and so inconclusive in all, that they quite naturally provoke deeper disbelief and produce telling retorts. While here and there a credulous person is convinced of a future life by the asserted appearance of a spirit, the well informed psychologist refers the argument to the laws of insanity and illusions, and the skeptic adds as a finality his belief that there is no future life, because no ghost has ever come back to reveal and certify it. The argument on both sides is equally futile, and removed from the true requisitions of the problem. To the philosophical thinker a mere appearance is scarcely a presumption in favor of a conclusion in accordance with it. Science and experience are full of examples exposing the nullity or the falsity of appearances. The sun seems to move around the earth; but truth contradicts it. We seem to discern distances and the forms of bodies by direct sight; but the truth is we see nothing but shades and colors: all beyond is inference based on acquired experience. The first darkness would seem to the trembling contemplator absolutely to blot out the universe; but in truth it only prevented him from seeing it. The first thorough unconscious sleep would seem to be the hopeless destruction of the soul in its perfect oblivion. Death is forever for the first time, shrouded in the misleading obscurities of an unknown novelty. Appearances are often deceitful, yielding obvious clews only to mistakes and falsehoods. They are always superficial, furnishing no reliable evidence of the reality. "Who could have thought such darkness lay conceal'd Within thy beams, O Sun! Or who could find, Whilst fly and leaf and insect stood reveal'd, That to such countless orbs thou mad'st us blind? Why then do we shun death with anxious strife? If light can thus deceive, wherefore not life?" 9 Spazier, Antiphadon, oder Prufung einiger Hauptbeweise fur die Einfachheit und Unsterblichkeit der menschlichen Seele. When the body dies, the mind is no longer manifested through it. That is all we immediately know by perception. The inference that the mind has therefore ceased to be at all, is a mere supposition. It may still live and act, independently of the body. An outside phenomenon can prove nothing here. We must by some psychological probe pierce to the core of the being and discern, as there concealed, the central interpretation of truth, or else, in want of this, turn from these surface shadows and seek the solution in some other province. Millions of appearances being opposed to the truth or inadequate to hint it, we must never implicitly trust their suggestions. What microscope can reveal the organic life in a kernel of corn, and show that through the decay of that kernel a stalk will spring up and bear a thousand kernels more? But if a new mental life emerges from the dying form of man, it lies in a spiritual realm whereinto we have no instruments to gaze. Every existent thing has its metes and limits. In fact, the only final weapon and fort of a thing is its environing limitation. It goes into nothing if that be taken down, the atheist says; into infinity, the mystic says. The mistake and difficulty lie in discerning what the last wall around the essence is. "The universe is the body of our body." The boundary of our life is boundless life. Schlegel has somewhere asked the question, "Is life in us, or are we in life?" Because man appears to be wholly extinguished in death, we have no right whatever in reason to conclude that he really is so. The star which seemed to set in the western grave of aged and benighted time, we, soon coming round east to the true spirit sky, may discern bright in the morning forehead of eternity. There can be no safe reasoning from the outmost husk and phenomenon of a thing to its inmost essence and result. And, in spite of any possible amount of appearance, man himself may pass distinct and whole into another sphere of being when his flesh falls to dust. That science should search in vain with her finest glasses to discern a royal occupant reigning in the purple chambered palace of the heart, or to trace any such mysterious tenant departing in sudden horror from the crushed and bleeding house of life, belongs to the necessary conditions of the subject; for spirit can only be spiritually discerned. As well might you seek to smell a color, or taste a sound, tie a knot of water, or braid a cord of wind. Next comes the abstract Argument from Speculative Philosophy. Under this head are to be included all those theories which deny the soul to be a spiritual entity, but reduce it to an atomic arrangement, or a dependent attribute, or a process of action. Heracleitus held that the soul was fire: of course, when the fuel was exhausted the fire would go out. Thales taught that it was water: this might all evaporate away. Anaximenes affirmed that it was air, of which all things were formed by rarefaction and condensation: on such a supposition it could have no permanent personal identity. Critias said it was blood: this might degenerate and lose its nature, or be poured out on the ground. Leucippus maintained that it was a peculiar concourse of atoms: as these came together, so they might fly apart and there be an end of what they formed. The followers of Aristotle asserted that it was a fifth unknown substance, with properties of its own, unlike those of fire, air, water, and earth. This might be mortal or immortal: there was nothing decisive in the conception or the defining terms to prove which it was. Accordingly, the Peripatetic school has always been divided on the question of the immortality of the soul, from the time of its founder's immediate disciples to this day. It cannot be clearly shown what the mighty Stagyrite's own opinion really was. Speculative conceptions as to the nature of the soul like the foregoing, when advanced as arguments to establish its proper mortality, are destitute of force, because they are gratuitous assumptions. They are not generalizations based on careful induction of facts; they are only arbitrary hypotheses. Furthermore, they are inconsistent both with the facts and phenomena of experience. Mind cannot fairly be brought into the category of the material elements; for it has properties and performs functions emphatically distinguishing it from every thing else, placing it in a rank by itself, with exclusive predicates of its own. Can fire think? Can water will? Can air feel? Can blood see? Can a mathematical number tell the difference between good and evil? Can earth be jealous of a rival and loyal to a duty? Can a ganglion solve a problem in Euclid or understand the Theodicee of Leibnitz? It is absurd to confound things so distinct. Mind is mind, and matter is matter; and though we are now consciously acquainted with them only in their correlation, yet there is as much reason for supposing that the former survives the close of that correlation as for supposing that the latter does. True, we perceive the material remaining and do not perceive the spirit. Yes; but the differentiation of the two is exactly this, that one is appreciable by the senses, while the other transcends and baffles them. It is absolutely inconceivable in imagination, wholly incredible to reason, intrinsically nonsensical every way, that a shifting concourse of atoms, a plastic arrangement of particles, a regular succession of galvanic shocks, a continuous series of nervous currents, or any thing of the sort, should constitute the reality of a human soul, the process of a human life, the accumulated treasures of a human experience, all preserved at command and traversed by the moral lines of personal identity. The things lie in different spheres and are full of incommunicable contrasts. However numerously and intimately correlated the physical and psychical constituents of man are, yet, so far as we can know any thing about them, they are steeply opposed to each other both in essence and function. Otherwise consciousness is mendacious and language is unmeaning. A recent able author speaks of "that congeries of organs whose union forms the brain and whose action constitutes the mind." 10 The mind, then, is an action! Can an action love and hate, choose and resolve, rejoice and grieve, remember, repent, and pray? Is not an agent necessary for an action? All such speculative conceptions as to the nature of soul as make it purely phenomenal are to be offset, if they can be, by the view which exhibits the personal ego or conscious selfhood of the soul, not as an empty spot in which a swarm of relations centre as their goal point, but as an indestructible monad, the innermost and substantial essence and cause of the organization, the self apprehending and unchangeable axis of all thinking and acting. Some of the most free, acute, learned, wise, and powerful thinkers of the world have been champions of this doctrine; especially among the moderns may be named Leibnitz, Herbart, Goethe, and Hartenstein. Jacobi most earnestly maintained it both against Mendelssohn and against Fichte. 10 Bucknill and Tuke, Psychological Medicine, p. 371. That the mind is a substantial entity, and therefore may be conceived as immortal, that it is not a mere functional operation accompanying the organic life, a phantom procession of conscious states filing off on the stage of the cerebrum "in a dead march of mere effects," that it is not, as old Aristoxenus dreamed, merely a harmony resulting from the form and nature of the body in the same way that a tune springs from the consenting motions of a musical instrument, seems to be shown by facts of which we have direct knowledge in consciousness. We think that the mind is an independent force, dealing with intellectual products, weighing opposing motives, estimating moral qualities, resisting some tendencies, strengthening others, forming resolves, deciding upon its own course of action and carrying out its chosen designs accordingly. If the soul were a mere process, it could not pause in mid career, select from the mass of possible considerations those adapted to suppress a base passion or to kindle a generous sentiment, deliberately balance rival solicitations, and, when fully satisfied, proceed. Yet all this it is constantly doing. So, if the soul were but a harmony, it would give no sounds contrary to the affections of the lyre it comes from. But actually it resists the parts of the instrument from which they say it subsists, exercising dominion over them, punishing some, persuading others, and ruling the desires, angers, and fears, as if itself of a different nature.11 Until an organ is seen to blow its own bellows, mend its shattered keys, move its pedals, and play, with no foreign aid, "I know that my Redeemer liveth," or a violin tunes up its discordant strings and wields its bow in a spontaneous performance of the Carnival, showing us every Cremona as its own Paganini, we may, despite the conceits of speculative disbelief, hold that the mind is a dynamic personal entity. That thought is the very "latch string of a new world's wicket." Thirdly, we have the fanciful Argument from Analogy. The keen champions of disbelief, with their athletic agility of dialectics, have made terrible havoc among the troops of poetic arguments from resemblance, drawn up to sustain the doctrine of immortality. They have exposed the feebleness of the argument for our immortality from the wonderful workmanship and costliness of human nature, on the ground that what requires the most pains and displays the most skill and genius in its production is the most lovingly preserved. For God organizes the mind of a man just as easily as he constructs the geometry of a diamond. His omnipotent attributes are no more enlisted in the creation of the intelligence of an elephant or the gratitude of a soul than they are in the fabrication of the wing of a gnat or the fragrance of a flower. Infinite wisdom and power are equally implied in each and in all. They have shown the gross defectiveness of the comparison of the butterfly and psyche. The butterfly, lying in the caterpillar neatly folded up like a flower in the bud, in due time comes forth. It is a material development, open to the senses, a common demonstration tosensible experience. The disengagement of a spirit from a fleshly encasement, on the other hand, is a pure hypothesis wholly removed from sensible apprehension. There is no parallel in the cases. So the ridiculousness has been made evident of Plato's famous analogical argument that by a general law of nature all things are produced contraries from contraries; warmth dies into the 11 Plato, Phado, 98. life of cold, and lives out of the death of cold; night is born from the death of day, and day is born from the death of night; and thus everywhere death springs from life, and life from death.12 The whole comparison, considered as evidence of human immortality, is baseless and full of astonishing sophistry. When one hemisphere of the earth is turned away from the sun, it is night there; when it is turned towards the sun, it is day again. To this state of facts this revolving succession there is obviously no parallelism whatever in the two phenomenal phases of man, life and death, whereof one finishes its course and then the other seems fixed forever. In like manner, when Jeremy Taylor,13 after the example of many others, especially of old Licetus, argues soberly, as he does in a letter to Evelyn, for the immortality of the soul from the analogy of lamps burning in tombs for centuries with no waste of matter, there is no apposite and valid similarity, even if the instances were not a childish fable. An equally baseless argument for the existence of an independent spiritual body within the material body, to be extricated from the flesh at death and to survive in the same form and dimensions, we recollect having seen in a work by a Swedenborgian author.14 He reasons that when a person who has suffered amputation feels the lost limb as vividly as ever before, the phenomenon is palpable proof of a spirit limb remaining while the fleshly one is gone! Of course, the simple physiological explanation is that the mind instinctively refers the sensations brought in by the severed nerves to the points where, by inveterate custom, it has hitherto learned to trace their origination. The report being the same, it is naturally attributed to the same source. But those skeptics who have mercilessly exposed these fallacious arguments from analogy have themselves reasoned in the same way as fallaciously and as often. When individual life leaves the physical man, say they, cosmical life immediately enters the corpse and restores it to the general stock of nature; so when personal consciousness deserts the psychical man, the universal spirit resumes the dissolving soul. When certain conditions meet, a human soul is formed, a gyrating current of thought, or a vortex of force: soon some accident or a spent impulse breaks the eddy, and the individual subsides like a whirl in the air or a water spout in the sea. When the spirit fuel of life is exhausted, man goes out as an extinguished candle. He ceases like a tone from a broken harp string. All these analogies are vitiated by radical unlikeness between the things compared. As arguments they are perfectly worthless, being spoiled by essential differences in the cases. Wherein there is a similarity it falls short of the vital point. There is no justice in the conception of man as a momentary gyre of individual consciousness drawn from the universal sea by a sun burst of the Spirit. He is a self ruling intelligence, using a dependent organism for his own ends, comprehending his own destiny, successively developing its conditions and acquiring the materials for occupying and improving them, with a prevision of eternity. A flower may just as well perish as live, a musical sound cease as continue, a lamp be put out as burn on: they know not the difference. Not so with the soul of man. We here overpass a discrete degree and enter upon a subject 12 Crawford, On the Phadon of Plato. 13 Heber's Life and Works of Jeremy Taylor, vol. i. p. 69. 14 Dee Guays, True System of Religious Philosophy, Letter V. within another circle of categories. Let the rash reasoner who madly tries conclusions on a matter of such infinite pith and moment, with data so inapt and poor, pause in sacred horror before, having first "Put out the light, he then puts out THE LIGHT!" There are peculiarities in the soul removing it out of the range of physical combinations and making a distinct destiny fairly predicable of it. When we reflect on the nature of a self contained will, intelligent of immaterial verities and perhaps transcendent of space and time, how burlesque is the terror of the ancient corpuscular theorists lest the feebly cohering soul, on leaving the body, especially if death happened during a storm, would be blown in pieces all abroad! Socrates, in the Phado, has a hearty laugh over this; but Lucretius seriously urges it.15 The answer to the skeptical reasoning from analogy is double. First, the lines of partial correspondence which visibly terminate within our tangible reach can teach nothing as to the termination of other lines which lead out of sight and disappear in a spiritual region. An organized material form for instance, a tree is fatally limited: else it would finally fill and exhaust the earth. But no such limiting necessity can be predicated of mind. Secondly, as far as there is genuine analogy, its implications are much stronger in favor of immortality than against it. Matter, whose essence is materiality, survives all apprehensible changes; spirit, whose essence is spirituality, should do the same. Another attack on the doctrine of a future life is masked in the negative Argument from Ignorance. We do not know how we shall live again; we are unable to construct the conditions and explain the details of a spiritual state of existence; and therefore, it is said, we should of right conclude that there is no such thing. The proposition is not usually stated so blankly; but it really amounts to that. The Epicureans say, as a tree cannot exist in the sky, nor clouds in the ocean, nor fishes in the meadow, nor water in stone, thus the mind cannot exist apart from the nerves and the blood. This style of reasoning is a bold begging of the question. Our present experience is vacant of any specific knowledge of the conditions, methods, and contents of a life it has not yet experienced: therefore there is no such life. Innumerable millions of facts beyond our present knowledge unquestionably exist. It is not in any way difficult to conceive that innumerable millions of experiences and problems now defying and eluding our utmost powers may hereafter fall within our comprehension and be easily solved. Will you accept the horizon of your mind as the limit of the universe? In the present, experience must be confined within its own boundaries by the necessity of the case. If an embryo were endowed with a developed reasoning consciousness, it could not construct any intelligible theory of the world and life into which it was destined soon to emerge. But it would surely be bad logic to infer, because the embryo could not, from want of materials within its experience, ascertain the how, the when, the where, and the what, of the life awaiting it, that there was no other life reserved for it. An acorn buried and sprouting in the dark mould, if endowed with intelligent consciousness, could not know any definite particulars of its maturer life yet to be in the upper light and air, with cattle in its shade and 15 Lib. iii. ll. 503-508. singing birds in its branches. Ignorance is not a ground of argument, only of modest suspense. We can only reason from what we know. And the wondrous mysteries or natural miracles with which science abounds, myriads of truths transcending all fictions, melt and remove from the path of faith every supposed difficulty. Any quantity of facts have been scientifically established as real which are intrinsically far more strange and baffling to belief than the assertion of our immortality is. Indeed, "there is no more mystery in the mind living forever in the future than in its having been kept out of life through a past eternity. The authentic wonder is the fact of the transition having been made from the one to the other; and it is far more incredible that, from not having been, we are, than that, from actual being, we shall continue to be." 16 The unbounded possibilities of life suggested by science and open to imagination furnish sufficient reply to the objection that we cannot conceive the precise causes and modes of a future state. Had one little partitular been different in the structure of the eye, or in the radiation and media of light, we should never have seen the stars! We should have supposed this globe the whole of creation. So some slightest integument or hindering condition may now be hiding from us the sublime reality and arrangements of immortality which in death's disenveloping hour are to burst into our vision as the stellar hemisphere through the night. Shut up now to one form of being and one method of experience, how can we expect an exhaustive knowledge of other and future forms and methods of being and experience? It is a contradiction to ask it. But the soul is warranted in having faith, like a buried mustard seed which shall yet mount into its future life. A sevenfold denser mystery and a seven times narrower ignorance would bring no real argument against the survival of the soul. For in an omnipotent infinitude of possibilities one line of ignorance cannot exhaust the avenues and capacities of being. Escaping the flesh, we may soar into heaven "Upon ethereal wings, whose way Lies through an element so fraught With living Mind that, as they play, Their every movement is a thought." Ignorance of the scientific method avails nothing against moral proofs of the fact. The physiologist studying the coats of the stomach, the anatomist dissecting the convolutions of the brain, could never tell that man is capable of sentiment, faith, and logic. No stethoscope can discern the sound of an expectation, and no scalpel can lay bare a dream; yet there are expectations and dreams. No metaphysical glass can detect, no prognosis foresee, the death of the soul with the dissolution of its organs: on empirical grounds, the assertion of it is therefore unwarranted. But though no amount of obscurity enveloping the subject, no extent of ignorance disabling us now to grasp the secret, is a legitimate basis of disbelief, yet actually, there can be no doubt, in multitudes of instances, the effectual cause of disbelief in immortality is the impossibility of vividly conceiving its conditions and scenery; "for," as one of the subtlest of thinkers has remarked, "however far faith may go beyond experience, it 16 Martineau, Sermon on Immortality, in Endeavors after the Christian Life. must always be chained down by it at a distance." But if there are good grounds for anticipating another life, then man should confide in it, no matter how incompetent he is to construct its theatre and foresee its career. A hundred years ago, one might have scouted the statement that the most fearful surgical operations would be performed without inflicting pain, because it was impossible to see how it could be done. Or if a person had been informed that two men, one in Europe and one in America, should converse in lightning athwart the bed of the Atlantic, he might have rejected it as an absurdity, because he could not conceive the mode. If destined to a future life, all we could reasonably expect to know of it now would be through hinting germs and mystic presentiments of it. And there we do experience to the fullest extent: their ceaseless prophecies are everywhere with us, "Blank misgivings of a creature Moving about in worlds not realized." The last weapon of disbelief in a future life is the Scientific Argument from Materialism. Lucretius says, "There is nothing in the universe but bodies and the properties of bodies." This is a characteristic example of the method of the materialists: to assume, as an unquestionable postulate, the very point in debate, and that, too, in defiance of the intelligent instincts of consciousness which compel every unsophisticated person to acknowledge the simultaneous existence of mind and matter as two correlated yet distinct realities. The better statement would be, There is nothing in the universe but forces and the relations of forces. For, while we know ourselves in immediate self consciousness, as personal intelligences perceiving, willing, and acting, all we know of an outward world is the effects produced on us by its forces. Certainly the powers of the universe can never be lost from the universe. Therefore if our souls are, as consciousness declares, causes, and not mere phenomena, they are immortal. To ignore either factor in the problem of life, the material substratum or the dynamic agent, is mere narrowness and blindness. But the unbelieving naturalist argues that the total man is a product of organization, and therefore that with the dissolution of the living combination of organs all is over. Matter is the marriage bed and grave of soul. Priestley says, "The principle of thought no more belongs to substance distinct from body than the principle of sound belongs to substance distinct from bell." There is no relevancy in the comparison, because the things are wholly unlike. Thought is not, as Hartley's theory avowed it was, a vibration of a cerebral nerve, as sound is a vibration of a sonorous body; for how could these vibrations be accumulated in memory as our mental experiences are? When a material vibration ends, it has gone forever; but thoughts are stored up and preserved. A hypothetical simile, like that just cited from Priestley, is not a cogent argument. It is false science thus to limit the modes of being to what lies within our present empirical knowledge. Is it not pure presumptuousness to affirm that the creative power of Almighty God is shut up so that intelligent creatures can only exist in forms of flesh? When a recent materialist makes the assertion, "The thinking man is the sum of his senses," it is manifest that he goes beyond the data, assuming what should be proved, and confounding the instruments and material with the workman. It is as if one should say, "A working cotton manufactory is the sum of its machines," excluding the persons by whose guiding oversight all is done. Plainly, it may be granted that all which man knows is brought in through the door of the senses, without allowing the same of all that man is. We have no warrant for pronouncing the identical coextensiveness of what man learns to know and what he is created to be. The very proposition, man knows something, presupposes three things, a subject, an act, and an object. Whether the three exist and perish together or not is matter for discussion, and not fairly to be settled by forcibly lumping the heterogeneous three into homogeneous unity. In the present state of science it must be confessed that all kinds of physical force whether mechanical, chemical, vital, or nervous are drawn more or less directly from the sun, the material reservoir of power for our solar system. This must be admitted, although some recent materialists have pushed the doctrine so far that they may be called the Parsees of the West. Whenever the proper conditions for an animate being are furnished, a force derived from the sun lifts matter from its stable equilibrium to the level of organic existence. In due season, from its wavering life struggle there, it decays back to the deep rest of insensate earth.17 This is a truth throughout the organic realm, from the bulb of a sea weed to the brain of a Casar. So much cannot be denied. Every organism constantly receives from the universe food and force, and as constantly restores in other forms the material and dynamical equivalents of what it receives, and finally itself goes to the sources whence it came. But the affirmation of this for all within the physical realm is not the admission of it for what subsists in an immeasurably higher rank and totally different realm. Entering the psychical sphere, where we deal with a new, distinct order of realities, not impenetrability, weight, extension, but thought, affection, will, why may not this province contain eternities, even though the other holds only mortalities? It is a question to be examined on its own grounds, not to be put aside with a foregone conclusion. In nature the cause endures under all evanescent changes, and survives all phenomenal beginnings and endings: so in spirit the causal personality, if there be one, may outlast all the shifting currents of the outward phenomena in endless persistence. Of course, the manifestation of the mind through the senses must cease when the senses no longer remain. The essence of the controversy, then, is exactly this: Is the mind an entity? or is it a collection of functions? If the soul be a substantial force, it is immortal. If it be a phenomenal resultant, it ceases at death. A reductio ad absurdum immediately occurs. If the psychical totality of man consists of states of feeling, modes of volition, and powers of thought, not necessitating any spiritual entity in which they inhere, then, by parity of reasoning, the physical totality of man consists of states of nutrition, modes of absorption, and powers of change, implying no body in which these processes are effectuated! Qualities cannot exist without a subject: and just as physical attributes involve a body, spiritual attributes involve a mind. And, if a mental entity be admitted, its death or cessation with that of its outer dress or case is not a fair inference, but needs appropriate evidence. The soul of a man has been defined as the sum of his ideas, an idea being a state of the consciousness. But the essence of mind must be the common ground and element of all 17 Moleschott, Licht and Leben. different states of consciousness. What is that common ground and element but the presence of a percipient volitional force, whether manifested or unmanifested, still there? That is the germinal core of our mental being, integrating and holding in continuous identity all the phenomenal fluctuations of consciousness. It is clear that any other representation seems inconsistent with the most central and vivid facts of our knowledge. In illustration of this, let us see how every materialistic exposition omits utterly, or fails to account for, the most essential element, the solitary and crowning peculiarity, of the case. For example, it is said that thought or consciousness is a phenomenal process of changes sustained in the brain by a correlation of forces, just as the rainbow appears, but has no ontological subsistence of its own: the continuous spectrum hangs steady on the ceaselessly renewed substratum of the moving mist rack and the falling rain. But the comparison is absolutely inapplicable, because the deepest ground principle of the mind is wanting in the rainbow, namely, conscious and continuous identity holding in each present moment all the changes of the past moments. If the rainbow were gifted with consciousness, it could not preserve its personal identity, but merely its phenomenal identity, for any two successive moments, since its whole being would consist of an untied succession of states. Traversing the body from its extreme tissues to the gray vesicular substance composing the spinal cord and covering the surface and convolutions of the brain, are two sets of white, fibrous nerves. One set, the afferents, bring in sensation, all kinds of tidings, from the out world of matter. The other set, the efferents, carry out volition, all kinds of decrees, from the in world of mind. Without an afferent nerve no influence of the world can reach the mind; and without an efferent nerve no conclusion of the mind can reach the world. As we are now constituted, this machinery is necessary for the intercommunication of the mind and the material universe. But if there be something in the case besides live machinery and crossing telegrams, if there be a monarch mind inaccessible to the vulgar crowd of things and only conversing with them through the internuncial nerves, that spirit entity may itself be capable of existing forever in an ideal universe and of communing there face to face with its own kingly lineage and brood. And we maintain that the account of the phenomena is grossly defective, and that the phenomena themselves are palpably inexplicable, except upon the supposition of such an entity, which uses the organism but is not the organism itself nor a function of it. "Ideas," one materialist teaches, "are transformed sensations." Yes; but that does not supersede a transforming mind. There must be a force to produce the transformations. "The phenomena of mind," says another, "consist in a succession of states of consciousness." Yes; but what is it that presides over, takes up, and preserves this succession? The phenomena of the mind are not the mind itself. "The actions of the mind are the functions of the cerebrum," adds a third. Yes; but the inquiry is, what is the mind itself? not, what are its acts? The admission of the gray nerve cells of the brain, as the material substratum through which sensations are received and volitions returned, does not exclude the necessity of a dynamical cause for the metamorphosing phenomenon. That cause must be free and intelligent, because the products of its action, as well as its accompanying consciousness, are marked by freedom and intelligence. For example, when a cylindrical and fibrous porter deposits his sensitive burden in the vesicular and cineritious substance, something examines it, tests its import, reflects on what shall be done, forms an intelligent resolution, and commands another porter to bear the dynamic load forth. The reflective and determining something that does this is the mind. Thus, by the fact of an indissoluble dynamic will, is the broad lineal experience of man grasped and kept from dissipating into crumbled psychical states, as when the dead kings of ancient India were burned their corpses were wrapped in asbestos shrouds to hold the ashes together. The flame of a burnt out candle twinkling in the socket is not numerically the same with that which appeared when it was first lighted; nor is a river at any two periods numerically the same. Different particles constantly feed an ever renewed flame or stream, just like the former but never the same. A totally new element appears when we contemplate mind. Here, although the whole molecular substance of the visible organism is in perpetual flux, the same conscious personality persists through all, growing ever richer in an accumulating possession of past experiences still held in living command. The Arethusa of identity threads the blending states of consciousness, and, passing the ocean bed of death, may emerge in some morning fount of immortality. A photographic image impressed on suitable paper and then obliterated is restored by exposure to the fumes of mercury. But if an indefinite number of impressions were superimposed on the same paper, could the fumes of mercury restore any one called for at random? Yet man's memory is a plate with a hundred millions of impressions all cleanly preserved, and he can at will select and evoke the one he wants. No conceivable relationship of materialistic forces can account for the facts of this miraculous daguerreotype plate of experience, and the power of the mind to call out into solitary conspicuousness a desired picture which has forty nine million nine hundred and ninety nine thousand nine hundred and ninety nine latent pictures lying above it, and fifty millions below it. It has been said that "the impressions on the brain, whether perceptions or intellections, are fixed and retained through the exactness of assimilation. As the mind took cognizance of the change made by the first impression of an object acting on the brain through the sense organs, so afterwards it recognises the likeness of that change in the parts inserted by the nutritive process.18 This passage implies that the mind is an agent, not a phenomenon; and it describes some of the machinery with which the mind works, not the essence of the mind itself. Its doctrine does not destroy nor explain the presiding and elective power which interprets these assimilated and preserved changes, choosing out such of them as it pleases, that unavoided and incomprehensible power, the hiding place of volition and eternity, whose startling call has often been known, in some dread crisis, to effect an instantaneous restoration of the entire bygone life, making all past events troop through the memory, a swiftly awful cavalcade marching along the fibrous pavement of the brain, while each terrified thought rushes to its ashy window to behold. We here leave the material realm behind and enter a spiritual province where other predicates and laws hold, and where, "delivered over to a night of pure light, in which no unpurged sight is sharp enough to penetrate the mysterious essence that sprouteth into different persons," we kneel in most pious awe, and cry, with Sir 18 Paget. Surgical Pathology, Lecture II. Thomas Browne, "There is surely a piece of divinity in us, something that was before the elements and owes no homage unto the sun!" The fatal and invariable mistake of materialism is that it confounds means and steps with causes, processes with sources, organs with ends, predicates with subject.19 Alexander Bain denies that there is any cerebral closet or receptacle of sensation and imagery where impressions are stored to be reproduced at pleasure. He says, the revival of a past impression, instead of being an evocation of it from an inner chamber, is a setting on anew of the current which originally produced it, now to produce it again.20 But this theory does not alter the fact that all past impressions are remembered and can be revived at will by an internal efficiency. The miracle, and the necessity of an unchanging conscious entity to explain it, are implied just as they were on the old theory. "The organs of sense," Sir Isaac Newton writes, "are not for enabling the soul to perceive the species of things in its sensorium, but for conveying them there." 21 Now, as we cannot suppose that God has a brain or needs any material organs, but rather that all infinitude is his Sensorium, so spirits may perceive spiritual realities without any mediating organism. Our physical experience in the present is no limit to the spiritual possibilities of the future. The materialistic argument against immortality fails, because it excludes essential facts. As anterior to our experience in the present state there was a power to organize experiences and to become what we are, so none of the superficial reasonings of a mere earth science can show that there is not now a power to organize experiences in a future state and to become what our faith anticipates we shall be. And this suggests to speculative curiosity the query, Shall we commence our future life, a psychical cell, as we commenced our present life, a physical cell? It will be well, perhaps, to reply next to some of the aggressive sophistries of disbelief. The following lines by Dr. Beddoes are striking, but, considered as a symbol of life, seem almost wilfully defective: "The body is but an engine Which draws a mighty stream of spiritual power Out of the world's own soul, and makes it play A while in visible motion." Man is that miraculous engine which includes not only all the needful machinery, but also fuel, fire, steam, and speed, and then, in climacteric addition to these, an engineer! Does the engineer die when the fire goes out and the locomotive stops? When the engine madly plunges off the embankment or bridge of life, does the engineer perish in the ruin, or nimbly leap off and immortally escape? The theory of despair has no greater plausibility than that of faith. Feuerbach teaches that the memento mori of reason meets us everywhere in the spiritual God's acre of literature. A book is a grave, which buries not the dead remains, but the quick 19 Frauenstadt, Per Materialismus, seine Wahrheit und sein Irrthum, s. 169. 20 The Senses and the Intellect, p. 61. 21 Brodie, Psychological Inquiries, p. 41, 3d edition. man, not his corpse, but his soul. And so we live on the psychical deposits of our ancestry. Our souls consist of that material which once constituted other souls, as our bodies consist of the material which once constituted other bodies. A thought, it is to be replied, is never excreted from the mind and left behind. Only its existence is indicated by symbols, while itself is added to the eternal stock of the deathless mind. A thought is a spiritual product in the mind from an affection of the cerebral substance. A sentence is a symbol of a thought adapted to create in the contemplator just such a cerebral affection as that from which it sprang, and to deposit in his mind just such a spiritual product as that which it now denotes. Thus are we stimulated and instructed by the transmitted symbols of our ancestors' experiences, but not literally nourished by assimilation of their very psychical substance, as this remorseless prophet of death's ghastly idealism would have us believe. Still, in whatever aspect we regard it, one cannot but shudder before that terrible cineritious substance whose dynamic inhabitants are generated in the meeting of matter's messages with mind's forces, and sent forth in emblems to shake the souls of millions, revolutionize empires, and refashion the world. Strauss employs an ingenious argument against the belief in a future life, an argument as harmless in reality as it is novel and formidable in appearance. "Whether the nerve spirit be considered as a dependent product, or as the producing principle of the organism, it ends at death: for, in the former case, it can no longer be produced when the organism perishes; in the latter case, that it ceases to sustain the organism is a proof that it has itself decayed."22 In this specious bit of special pleading, unwarranted postulates are assumed and much confusion of thought is displayed. It is covertly taken for granted that every thing seen in a given phenomenon is either product or producer; but something may be an accompanying part, involved in the conditions of the phenomenon, yet not in any way essentially dependent on it, and in fact surviving it. What does Strauss mean by "the nerve spirit"? Is there no mind behind it and above it, making use of it as a servant? Our present life is the result of an actual and regulated harmony of forces. Surely that harmony may end without implying the decay of any of its initial components, without implying the destruction of the central constituent of its intelligence. It is illegitimate logic, passing from pure ignorance to positive affirmation; a saltation of sophistry from a negative premise of blindness to all behind the organic life, to a dogmatic conclusion of denial that there is any thing behind the organic life. A subtle and vigorous disbeliever has said, "The belief in immortality is not a correct expression of human nature, but rests solely on a misunderstanding of it. The real opinion of human nature is expressed in the universal sorrow and wailing over death." It is obvious to answer that both these expressions are true utterances of human nature. It grieves over the sadness of parting, the appalling change and decay, the close locked mystery of the unseen state. It rejoices in the solace and cheer of a sublime hope springing out of the manifold powerful promises within and without. Instead of contemning the idea of a heavenly futurity as an idle dream image of human longing, it were both devouter and more reasonable, from 22 Charakteristiken und Kritiken, s. 394. that very causal basis of it, to revere it and confide in it as divinely pledged. All the thwarted powers and preparations and affections, too grand, too fine, too sacred, to meet their fit fulfilment here, are a claim for some holier and vaster sphere, a prophecy of a more exalted and serene existence, elsewhere. The unsatisfied and longing soul has created the doctrine of a future life, has it? Very good. If the soul has builded a house in heaven, flown up and made a nest in the breezy boughs of immortality, that house must have tenants, that nest must be occupied. The divinely implanted instincts do not provide and build for naught. Certain considerations based on the resemblances of men and beasts, their asserted community of origin and fundamental unity of nature, have had great influence in leading to the denial of the immortality of the human soul. It is taken for granted that animals are totally mortal; and then, from the apparent correspondences of phenomena and fate between them and us, the inference is drawn that the cases are parallel throughout, and that our destiny, too, is annihilation. The course of thought on this subject has been extremely curious, illustrating, on the one hand, that "where our egotism begins, there the laws of logic break," and, on the other hand, that often when fancy gets scent of a theory the voice and lash of reason are futile to restrain it until the theory is run into the ground. Des Cartes, and after him Malebranche and a few other writers, gave no slight currency to the notion that brutes are mere machines, moved by prearranged influences and utterly destitute of intelligence, will, or consciousness. This scheme gave rise to many controversies, but has now passed into complete neglect.23 Of late years the tendency has been to assimilate instead of separating man and beast. Touching the outer sphere, we have Oken's homologies of the cranial vertebra. In regard to the inner sphere, we have a score of treatises, like Vogt's Pictures from Brute Life, affirming that there is no qualitative, but merely a quantitative, distinction between the human soul and the brute soul.24 Over this point the conflict is still thick and hot. But, however much of truth there may be in the doctrine of the ground identity of the soul of a man and the soul of a dog, the conclusion that man therefore perishes is a pure piece of sophistry. Such a monstrous assassination of the souls of the human race with the jaw bone of an ass may be legitimately avoided in either of two ways. It is as fair to argue the immortality of animals from their likeness to us, as our annihilation from our likeness to them. The psychological realm has been as much deepened in them by the researches of modern science as the physiological domain has been widened in us. As Agassiz says, we must not lose sight of the mental individuality of animals in an exclusive attention to the bodily side of their nature.25 A multitude of able thinkers have held the faith that animals have immaterial and deathless souls. Rightly considered, there is nothing in such a 23 Darmanson, La bete transformee en machine. Ditton, Appendix to Discourse on Resurrection of Christ, showing that brutes are not mere machines, but have immortal souls. Orphal, Sind die Thiere blos sinnliche Geschopfe? Thomasius, De Anima Brutorum, quo asseritur, eam non esse Materialem, contra Cartesianam Opinionem. Winkler, Philosophische Untersuchungen von dem Seyn and Wesen der Seelen der Thiere, von einzelnen Liebhabern der Weltweisheit. 24 Buchner, Kraft und Stoff, kap. 19: Die Thierseele. 25 Essay on Classification, p. 64. doctrine which a keen reasoner may not credit and a person of the most refined feelings find pleasure in embracing. In their serene catholicity and divine sympathy, science and religion exclude pride and contempt. But admitting that there is no surviving psychical entity in the brute, that is in no way a clear postulate for proving that the same fact holds of man. The lower endowments and provinces of man's nature and experience may correspond ever so closely with the being and life of brutes whose existence absolutely ceases at death, and yet he may be immortal. The higher range of his spiritual faculties may elevate him into a realm of universal and eternal principles, extricating his soul from the meshes of decay. He may come into contact with a sphere of truths, grasp and rise into a region of realities, conferring the prerogative of deathlessness, not to be reached by natures gifted in a much lower degree, although of the same kind. Such a distinction is made between men themselves by Spinoza.26 His doctrine of immortality depicts the stupendous boon as contingent, to be acquired by observance of conditions. If the ideas of the soul represent perishable objects, it is itself mortal; if imperishable, it is immortal. Now, brutes, it is probable, never rise to the apprehension of pure and eternal truths; but men do. It was a mean prejudice, founded on selfish ignorance and pride, which first assumed the total destruction of brutes in death, and afterwards, by the grovelling range of considerations in which it fastened and the reaction it naturally provoked, involved man and all his imperial hopes in the same fate. A firm logical discrimination disentangles the human mind from this beastly snarl.27 The difference in data warrants a difference in result. The argument for the immortality of brutes and that for the immortality of men are, in some respects, parallel lines, but they are not coextensive. Beginning together, the latter far outreaches the former. Man, like the animals, eats, drinks, sleeps, builds; unlike them, he adorns an ideal world of the eternal future, lays up treasures in its heavenly kingdom, and waits to migrate into it. There are two distinct methods of escaping the fatal inference of disbelief usually drawn by materialists. First, by the denial of their philosophical postulates, by the predication of immaterial substance, affirming the soul to be a spaceless point, its life an indivisible moment. The reasonings in behalf of this conception have been manifold, and cogent enough to convince a multitude of accomplished and vigorous thinkers.28 In Herbart's system the soul is an immaterial monad, or real, capable of the permanent formation of states in its interior. Its life consists of a quenchless series of self preservations. These reals, with their relations and aggregations, constitute at once the varying phenomena and the causal substrata of the universe. Mamertius Claudianus, a philosophical priest of Southern Gaul in the fifth century, wrote a treatise "On the Nature of the Soul." He says, "When the soul wills, it is all will; when it recollects or feels, it is all recollection or feeling. Now, will, recollection, and feeling, are not bodies. Therefore the soul is incorporeal." This makes the conscious man an 26 Jouffroy, Introduction to Ethics: Channing's trans., vol. ii. pp. 189-191. 27 Schaller, Leib und Seele, kap. 13: Der Psychische Unterschied des Menschen vom Thiere. 28 Crombie, Natural Theology, vol. ii.: Essay on the Immortality of the Soul. Brougham, Discourse of Nat. Theol., sect. 5. imperishable substantial activity. An old English writer, with quaint eloquence, declares, "There is a proportion between an atom and the universe, because both are quantitative. All this excesse vanisheth into nothing as soon as the lowest substance shineth out of that orbe where they reside that scorn divisibility." From this brief statement of the position of the immaterialists, without arguing it, we pass to note, in the second place, that nearly all the postulates ordinarily claimed by the materialist may be granted without by any means proving the justice of their disbelief of a future life.29 Admit that there can be no sensation without a nerve, no thought without a brain, no phenomenal manifestation without an organ. Such an admission legitimates the conclusion, on empirical grounds, that our present mode of life must cease with the dissolution of our organism. It does not even empirically prove that we may not survive in some other mode of being, passing perhaps to an inconceivably higher stage and more blessed kind of life. After the entire disintegration of our material organs, we may, by some now unknown means, possess in a refined form the equivalents of what those organs gave us. There may be, interfused throughout the gross mortal body, an immortal body of exquisitely delicate structure invisibly extricating itself from the carious ruins at death. Plattner develops and defends this hypothesis with plausible skill and power.30 The Hindus conceived the soul to be concealed within several successive sheaths, the innermost of which accompanied it through all its transmigrations.31 "The subtile person extends to a small distance over the skull, like the flame of a lamp above its wick." 32 The later Pythagoreans and Platonists seem to have believed that the same numerical ethereal body with which the soul was at first created adhered to it inseparably during all its descents into grosser bodies, a lucid and wingy vehicle, which, purged by diet and catharms, ascends again, bearing the soul to its native seat.33 The doctrine of Swedenborg asserts man to be interiorly an organized form pervading the physical body, an eternal receptacle of life from God. In his terminology, "constant influx of life" supersedes the popular idea of a self contained spiritual existence. But this influx is conditioned by its receiving organ, the undecaying inner body.34 However boldly it may be assailed and rejected as a baseless theory, no materialistic logic can disprove the existence of an ethereal form contained in, animating, and surviving, the visible organism. It is a possibility; although, even if it be a fact, science, by the very conditions of the case, can never unveil or demonstrate it. When subjected to a certain mode of thought developed recently by Faraday, Drossbach, and others, materialism itself brightens and dissolves into a species of idealism, the universe becomes a glittering congeries of indestructible points of power, and the immortality of the soul is established as a mathematical certainty.35 All bodies, all entities, are but forms of This has been ably shown by Spiers in his treatise, Ueber das korperliche Bedingtsein der Seelenthatigkeiten. 30 Spes immortalitatis animorum per rationes physiologicas confirmata. 31 Dabistan, vol. ii. p. 177. 32 Colebrooke, Essays, vol. i. p. 246. 33 Cudworth, Int. Sys., vol. ii. pp. 218-230, Am. ed. 34 On the Intercourse between the Soul and the Body, sect. 9. 35 Lott, Herbarti de animi immortalitate doctrina. force.36 Gravity, cohesion, bitterness, thought, love, recollection, are manifestations of force peculiarly conditioned. Our perceptions are a series of states of consciousness. An attribute or property of a thing is an exercise of force or mode of activity producing a certain state of consciousness in us. The sum of its attributes or properties constitutes the totality of the thing, and is not adventitiously laid upon the thing: you can separate the parts of a thing; but you cannot take away its forces from any part, because they are its essence. Matter is not a limitation or neutralization, but a state and expression, of force. Force itself is not multiplex, but one, all qualities and directions of it lying potentially in each entity, the kinds and amounts which shall be actually manifested depending in each case on the conditions environing it. All matter, all being, therefore, consists of ultimate atoms or monads, each one of which is an inseparable solidarity of activities. The universe is an eternal society of eternal force individuals, all of which are capable of constant changes in groupings, aggregations, developments, relations, but absolutely incapable of annihilation. Every atom possesses potential reason, and comes to self apprehension whenever the appropriate conditions meet. All differences originate from conditions and exist not in essentialities. According to this theory, the eternity of the soul is sure, but that eternity must be an endless series of mutual transitions between consciousness and unconsciousness, life and death.37 Since all cannot be men at once, they must take their turns. Carus says, a soul enclosing in itself an independent consciousness is inconceivable. When the organism by which consciousness is conditioned and revealed is destroyed in death, consciousness disappears as certainly as the gleaming height of a dome falls in when its foundation is removed. And Drossbach adds, death is the shade side of life. Without shade, light would not be perceptible, nor life without death; for only contrast leads to knowledge. The consciousness of life is realized by interchange with the unconsciousness of death. Mortality is the inevitable attribute of a self conscious being. The immortality of such a being can be nothing else than an everlasting mortality. In this restless alternation between the opposite states of life and death, being holds continuous endurance, but consciousness is successively extinguished and revived, while memory is each time hopelessly lost. Widenmann holds that the periods of death are momentary, the soul being at once born again, retaining no vestiges of its past.38 Drossbach, on the contrary, believes that memory is an indefeasible quality of the soul atom, the reason why we do not remember previous lives being that the present is our first experiment. When all atoms destined to become men have once run the human career, the earliest ones will begin to reappear with full memory of their preceding course. It matters not how long it requires for one circuit of the whole series of souls; for the infinite future is before us, and, as we are unconscious in death, the lapse of ages is nothing. We lie down to sleep, and instantly rise up to a new life. 36 Hickok, Rational Cosmology, ch. ii. sect. 1: Matter is force. 37 Drossbach, Die personliche Unsterblichkeit als Folge der atomistischen Verfaasung der Natur, abschn. iv. kap. ii. sect. 5, 6. 38 Gedanken uber die Unsterblichkeit als Wiederholung des Erdenlebens. "Death gives to life all its relish, as hunger is the true sauce of food. Death first makes us precious and dear to ourselves. Since it lies in the nature of change that no condition is endless, but morning ever follows night, death cannot be endless. Be unconcerned; thy being shall as little be lost as the grain of dust at thy foot! Because in death thou dost not know that thou art, therefore fearest thou that thou shalt be no more? O pusillanimous! the great events of nature are too vast for thy weak heart. A whole eternity thou hast not been conscious that thou art, and yet thou hast become conscious of it. Every night thou losest thy consciousness, yet art thou conscious again, and shalt be. The loss of consciousness is not necessarily the loss of self. The knowledge of my being is not my being itself, but a peculiar force thereof, which, entering into reciprocal action with other forces, is subject to change. It is its essence to act, and thus to change, yet without surrendering its essence. Goethe's words may be applied to the soul: 'It is; therefore eternally it is.' Not in cold motionlessness consists eternal life, but in eternal movement, in eternal alteration, in incessant change. These are warranties that no state endures forever, not even the unconscious, death." 39 In this unfolding of the theory there are many arbitrary and fanciful conceptions which may easily be dispensed with. The interspersion of the bright life of the human monads with blank epochs of oblivious darkness, and the confinement of their destiny to an endless repetition of their life course on this globe, are not necessary. In the will of God the free range of the boundless universe may lie open to them and an incessant career in forever novel circumstances await them. It is also conceivable that human souls, leading still recurrent lives on earth with total forgetfulness, may at last acquire sufficient power, in some happy concurrence or sublime exigency, to summon back and retain all their foregone states. But, leaving aside all such incidental speculations, the chief interest of the dynamic atomistic or monad theory, as affording a solid basis for immortality, is in relation to the arrogance of a shallow and conceited materialism. Says the materialist, "Show me a spirit, and I will believe in your heaven." Replies the idealist, "Show me your matter, however small a piece, and I will yield to your argument." Spirit is no phenomenon to be shown, and matter is an inference from thought: thus the counter statements of physical science and ideal philosophy fairly offset each other, and throw their respective advocates back upon the natural ground of unsophisticated faith and observation. Standing there unperverted, man has an invincible reliance on the veracity of his faculties and the normal reports of nature. Through immediate apprehension of his own conscious will and the posited experience of his senses, he has knowledge both of causal forms of being, or free productive force, and of resultant processes and phenomena. And surely sound logic teaches that the latter may alter or disappear without implying the annihilation of the former. If all material substance, so called, were destroyed, not only would space remain as an infinite indivisible unity, but the equivalents 39 Drossbach, Die individuelle Unsterblichkeit vom monadistisch metaphysischen Standpunkte betrachtet. of what had been destroyed must remain in some form or other. Who shall say that these equivalents would not be intelligent points of power, capable of organizing aggregate bodies and of reconstituting the universe in the will of God, or of forming from period to period, in endless succession, new kinds of universes, each abounding in hitherto unimagined modes of life and degrees of bliss? To our present faculties, with only our present opportunities and data, the final problem of being is insoluble. We resolve the properties of matter into methods of activity, manifestations of force. But there, covered with alluring awe, a wall of impenetrable mystery confronts us with its baffling "Thus far, and no farther, shall thine explicating gaze read the secrets of destiny." We cannot tell what force is. We can conceive neither its genesis nor its extinction. Over that obscure environment, into the immense empire of possibilities, we must bravely fling the treasures of our love and the colors of our hope, and with a divine impulse in the moment of death leap after, trusting not to sink as nothing into the abyss of nowhere, but, landing safe in some elysium better than we know, to find ourselves still in God. In dealing with moral problems in the realm of the higher reason, intuitions, mysterious hints, prophetic feelings, instinctive apprehensions of fitness and harmony, may be of more convincing validity than all the formal arguments logic can build.40 "Sentiment," Ancillon says, as quoted by Lewes, "goes further than knowledge: beyond demonstrative proofs there is natural evidence; beyond analysis, inspiration; beyond words, ideas; beyond ideas, emotions; and the sense of the infinite is a primitive fact of the soul." In transcendental mathematics, problems otherwise unapproachable are solved by operating with emblems of the relations of purely imaginary quantities to the facts of the problems. The process is sound and the result valid, notwithstanding the hypothetical and imaginary character of the aids in reaching it. When for mastering the dim momentous problems of our destiny the given quantities and relations of science are inadequate, the helpful supposititious conditions furnished by faith may equally lead over their airy ways to conclusions of eternal truth. The disbelievers of a future life have in their investigations applied methods not justly applicable to the subject, and demanded a species of proof impossible for the subject to yield: as if one should use his ear to listen to the symmetries of beauty, and his eye to gaze upon the undulations of music. It is therefore that the terribly logical onslaughts of Feuerbach are harmless upon most persons. The glittering scimetar of this Saracenic metaphysician flashes swift and sharp, but he fights the air with weapons of air. No blood flows from the severed emptiness of space; no clash of the blows is heard any more than bell strokes would be heard in an exhausted receiver. One may justifiably accept propositions which strict science cannot establish and believe in the existence of a thing which science cannot reveal, as Jacobi has abundantly shown41 and as Wagner has with less ability tried to illustrate.42 The utmost possible achievement of a negative criticism is to show the invalidity of the physiological, 40 Abel, Disquisitio omnium tam pro immortalitate quam pro mortalitate argumentandi generum. 41 Von den goutlichen Dingen and ibrer Offenbarung. Wissen und Glauben mit besonderer Beziehung zur Zukunft der Seelen: Fortsetzung der Betrachtungen uber Menschenschopfung und Seelensubstanz. analogical, and metaphysical arguments to furnish positive proof of a future life for us. But this negation fully admitted is no evidence of our total mortality. Science is impotent to give any proof reaching to such a conclusion. However badly the archery of the sharp eyed and strong armed critics of disbelief has riddled the outer works of ordinary argument, it has not slain the garrison. Scientific criticism therefore leaves us at this point: there may be an immortal soul in us. Then the question whether there actually is an immortal soul in us, rests entirely on moral facts and considerations. Allowing their native force to these moral facts and considerations, the healthy ethical thinker, recognising in himself an innermost self conscious ego which knows itself persistent and identical amidst the multiplex vicissitude of transient conditions, lies down to die expecting immediately to continue his being's journey elsewhere, in some other guise. Leaving out of view these moral facts and considerations, the materialistic naturalist thinker, recognising his consciousness as only a phantom procession of states across the cerebral stage hung in ashy livery and afloat on blood, lies down to expire expecting immediately to be turned into nobody forever. Misinterpreting and undervaluing these moral facts and considerations, the anchorless speculative thinker, recognising his organism as an eye through which the World Spirit beholds itself, or a momentary pulse in which the All feels itself, his consciousness as a part of the infinite Thought, lies down on his death couch expecting immediately to be turned into everybody, eternity, instead of greeting him with an individual kiss, wrapping him in a monistic embrace. The broad drift of human conviction leads to the first conclusion, a persistent personality. The greatest philosophers, from Plato to Pascal, deny the second view, a blotting extinction of the soul, declaring it false in science and incredible in presentation. The third theory a pantheistic absorption the irresistible common sense of mankind repudiates as a morbid dream. Man naturally believes himself immortal but not infinite. Monism is a doctrine utterly foreign to undiseased thinking. Although it be a Fichte, a Schelling, or a Hegel, who says that the soul is a circumscribed yet omnipotent ego, which first radiates the universe, and afterwards beholds it in the mirror of itself, and at length breaks into dead universality, the conception is, to the average apprehension of humanity, as overweening a piece of wild fancy as ever rose in a madman's reveries.43 The ordinary contemplator of the phenomena of the world and the sequel of human life from the materialistic point of view feels disgust and terror at the prospect. The scene seems to him degrading and the fate fearful. The loathing and dismay vulgarly experienced thus, it is true, arise from an exaggerated misapprehension of the basis and meaning of the facts: rightly appreciated, all is rulingly alive, aspirant, beautiful, and benignant. The ceaseless transformations filling the heights and depths of the creation are pervaded with joy and 42 A full discussion of the pantheistic doctrine of immortality will be found in the following works. Richmann, Gemsinfassl. Darstellung und Wurdigung aller gehaltreichen Beweisarten fur Gott und fur Unsterblichkeit der Seele. Unius, Unsterblichkeit. Blanche, Philosophische Unsterblichkeitlehre. 43 Weisse, Die philosophische Geheimlehre von der Unsterblichkeit des menschlichen Individuums. Goschel, Von den Beweisen fur die Unsterblichkeit der menschlichen Seele im Lichte der speculativen Philosophie. Morell, Historical and Critical View of the Speculative Philosophy of Europe in the 19th Century, part ii. ch. v. sect. 2: The German School of the 19th Century. Buchanan, Modern Atheism. clothed with a noble poetry. There is no real death: what seems so is but a "return or falling home of the fundamental phenomenon to the phenomenal foundation, a dissolution through which nature seeks her ground and strives to renew herself in her principles." Still, in spite of this more profound and genial interpretation of the shifting metamorphoses of nature, the fear of there being no conscious future life for man produces, when first entertained, a horrid constriction around the heart, felt like the ice cold coils of a serpent. The thought of tumbling hopelessly into "The blind cave of eternal night" naturally oppresses the heart of man with sadness and with alarm. To escape the unhappiness thus inflicted, recourse has been had to expedients. Four artificial substitutes for immortality have been devised. Fondly fixing attention upon these, men have tried to find comfort and to absorb their thoughts from the dreaded spectre and the long oblivion. The first is the sentimental phantasm of posthumous fame. The Latin bard, ancient Ennius, sings, "Nemo me lacrymis decoret, nec funera fletu Faxit. Cur? volito vivu' per ora virum." 44 Shakspeare likewise often expresses the same thought: "When all the breathers of this world are dead, You still shall live (such virtue hath my pen) Where breath most breathes, even in the mouths of men." And again in similar strain: "My love looks fresh, and Death to me subscribes, Since, spite of him, I'll live in this poor rhyme, While he insults o'er dull and speechless tribes." Napoleon is reported to have said, "My soul will pass into history and the deathless memories of mankind; and thus in glory shall I be immortal." This characteristically French notion forms the essence of Comte's "positivist" doctrine of a future life. Those deemed worthy after their death to be incorporated, by vote of the people, in the Supreme Being, the Grand Etre, a fictitious product of a poetic personification, through the perpetual fame and influence thus secured have an immortal life in the thoughts and feelings of a grateful posterity. Comte says, "Positivism greatly improves immortality and places it on a firmer foundation, by changing it from objective to subjective." Great and eternal Humanity is God. The dead who are meritorious are alone remembered, and, thus incorporated into the Divinity, they have a "subjective immortality in the brains of the living." 45 It is a poor shadow of the sublime truth which the soul craves. Leopardi, in his Bruto Minore, expresses this "poor hope of being in the future's breath:" 44 Cicero, Tusc. Quast., lib. i. cap. xv. 45 Catechism of Positive Religion, Conversation III. "dell' atra morte ultima raggio Conscia future eta." That proud and gifted natures should have seriously stooped to such a toy, to solace themselves with it, is a fact strange and pathetic. With reverential tenderness of sympathy must we yearn towards those whose loving natures, baffled of any solid resource, turn appealingly, ere they fade away, to clasp this substanceless image of an image. Another scheme is what may be called the "lampada tradunt" 46 theory of a future life. Generations succeed each other, and the course is always full. Eternal life takes up new subjects as fast as its exhausted receptacles perish. Men are the mortal cells of immortal humanity. The individual must comfort himself with the sympathetic reflection that his extinction destroys nothing, since all the elements of his being will be manipulated into the forms of his successors. Life is a constant renovation, and its sum is forever full and equal on the globe. The only genuine resurrection unto eternal life is an unending re creation of organisms from the same materials to repeat the same physiological and psychological processes.47 There is a gleam of cheer and of nobleness in this representation; but, upon the whole, it is perhaps as ineffectual as the former. It is a vapid consolation, in view of our own annihilation, to think that others will then live and also be annihilated in their turn. It is pleasant to believe that the earth will forever be peopled with throngs of men; but though such a belief might help to reconcile us to our fate, it could not alter the intrinsic sadness of that fate. A third substitute for the common view of immortality is a scientific perception of the fact that the peculiar force which each man is, the sum of his character and life, is a cause indestructibly mixed with the course of subsequent history, an objective personal immortality, though not a conscious one. What he was, remains and acts forever in the world. The fourth substitute is an identification of self with the integral scheme of things. I am an inseparable portion of the totality of being, to move eternally in its eternal motion. "If death seem hanging o'er thy separate soul, Discern thyself a part of life's great whole." Lose the thought of thy particular evanescence in the thought of the universal permanence. The inverted torch denotes death to a mere inhabitant of the earth: to a citizen of the universe, downward and upward are the same. Perhaps one who rejects the ordinary doctrine of a future life can be solaced and edified by these substitutes in proportion to his fineness, greatness, and nobleness. But to most persons no substitute can atone for the withdrawn truth of immortality itself. In regard to the eternal preservation of personal consciousness, it were bigoted blindness to deny that there is room for doubts and fears. While the monad soul so to call it lies here beneath the weak glimmer of suns so far off that they are forceless to develop it to a 46 Lucretius, De Nat. Rerum, lib. ii. 1. 78. 47 Schultz Schultzenstein, Die Bildung des menschlichen Geistes durch Kultur der Verjungung seines Lebens, ss. 834-847: Die Unsterblichkeitsbegriffe. victorious assurance, we cannot but sometimes feel misgivings and be depressed by skeptical surmises. Accordingly, while belief has generally prevailed, disbelief has in every age had its representatives. The ancients had their Dicaarchus, Protagoras, Panatius, Lucan, Epicurus, Casar, Horace, and a long list besides. The moderns have had their Gassendi, Diderot, Condillac, Hobbes, Hume, Paine, Leopardi, Shelley, and now have their Feuerbach, Vogt, Moleschott, and scores of others needless to be named. And although in any argument from authority the company of the great believers would incomparably outshine and a thousand times outweigh the array of deniers, this does not alter the obvious fact that there are certain phenomena which are natural provocatives of doubt and whose troubling influence scarcely any one can always escape. Homer, in giving expression to Hector's confidence of victory over the Greeks, makes him wish that he were but as sure of entering the state of the immortal gods.48 When some one asked Dr. Johnson, "Have we not proof enough of the immortality of the soul?" he replied, "I want more." Davenant of whom Southey says, "I know no other author who has so often expressed his doubts respecting a future state and how burdensome he felt them" writes, "But ask not bodies doom'd to die, To what abode they go: Since knowledge is but sorrow's spy, It is not safe to know." Charles Lamb writes, "If men would honestly confess their misgivings, (which few men will,) there are times when the strongest Christian of us has reeled under questionings of such staggering obscurity." Many a man, seeing nature hang her veil of shifting glories above the silent tombs of vanished generations, voiceless now forever, entertaining innumerable contradictory queries amidst feelings of decay and sights of corruption, before the darkness of unknown futurity might piteously exclaim, without deserving blame, "I run the gauntlet of a file of doubts, Each one of which down hurls me to the ground." Who that has reached maturity of reflection cannot appreciate and sympathize somewhat with these lines of Byron, when he stands before a lifeless form of humanity? "I gazed, as oft I have gazed the same, To try if I could wrench aught out of death Which should confirm, or shake, or make, a faith; But it was all a mystery. Here we are, And there we go: but where? Five bits of lead, Or three, or two, or one, send very far! And is this blood, then, form'd but to be shed? Can every element our elements mar? Can air, earth, water, fire, live and we dead? We, whose minds comprehend all things? No more." 48 Iliad, lib, viii. Il. 538-540. Doubt is not sin, but rather a misfortune; for it is to adopt a suggestion from Schaller a cleft in the soul through which thought steals away what the heart desires. The guilt or innocence of doubting depends on the spirit in which it is done. There are two attitudes of mind and moods of feeling before propositions and evidence. One is, "I will not believe unless I see the prints of the nails and lay my finger in the marks of the wounds." The other is, "Lord, I believe: help thou mine unbelief." In abstract logic or rigid science the former may be appropriate and right. The latter alone can be justifiable in moral and religious things. If a man sorrowfully and humbly doubts, because he cannot help it, he shall not be condemned. When he is proud of his doubts, complacently swells with fancied superiority, plays the fanfaron with his pretentious arguments, and sets up as a propagandist of disbelief, being all the while in reality "Most ignorant of what he is most assured, His glassy essence," his conduct is offensive to every good man, and his spirit must receive the condemnation of God. A missionary of atheism and death, horridly eager to destroy those lofty thoughts which so much help to make us men, is a shocking spectacle. Yet a few such there are, who seem delighted as by their dismal theory they bury mankind in an iron tomb of materialism and inscribe on the irrevocable door the solitary words, Fate and Silence. The more attentively one dwells on the perishable physical side of life, the more prone he will be to believe in an absolute death; the more prevailingly he ponders the incorruptible psychical side, the more prepared he will be to credit immortality. The chemist who confines his studies exclusively within his own province, when he reflects on the probable sequence of life, will speculatively see himself vanish in his blowpipes and retorts. Whoso devotedly dabbles in organisms, nerves, and bloods may easily become skeptical of spirit; for it everywhere balks his analysis and eludes his search. The objects he deals with are things. They belong to change and dissolution. Mind and its proper home belong to a different category of being. Because no heaven appears at the end of the telescope, and no soul is seen on the edge of the dissecting knife, and no mind is found at the bottom of the crucible, to infer that therefore there is neither heaven, nor soul, nor mind, is as monstrous a non sequitur as it would be to infer the non existence of gravity because it cannot be distilled in any alembic nor discerned with any glass. The man who goes into the dark crimson dripping halls of physiology seeking proofs of immortality, and, failing to find them, abandons his faith in it, is like that hapless traveller who, groping in the catacombs under Rome, was buried by the caving in of the sepulchral roof, and thus lost his life, while all the time, above, the great vault of heaven was stretching, blue and breezy, filled with sunshine and sentient joy! When we contemplate men in a mass, like a swarm of bees or a hive of ants, we find ourselves doubting their immortality. They melt away, in swiftly confused heaps and generations, into the bosom of nature. On the other hand, when we think of individuals, an almost unavoidable thought of personal identity makes us spontaneously conclude them immortal. It rather requires the effort then to think them otherwise. But obviously the real problem is never of the multitudinous throng, but always of the solitary person. In reference to this question it is sophistry to fix our thoughts on a Chinese city as crowded with nameless and indistinguishable human inhabitants as a decayed cheese is with vermin. Fairness requires that our imaginations and reasonings upon the subject fasten upon an individual, set apart and uplifted, like a king, in the incommunicable distinctness and grandeur of selfhood and responsibility. From looking about this grave paved star, from painful and degrading contemplations of dead bodies, "the snuff and loathed part of nature which burns itself out," let a man turn away, and send his interior kingly glance aloft into ideal realms, let him summon up the glorious sentiments of freedom, duty, admiration, the noble experiences of self sacrifice, love, and joy, and his soul will extricate itself from the filthy net of material decay, and feel the divine exemption of its own clean prerogatives, dazzling types of eternity, and fragments of blessedness that "Promise, on our Maker's truth, Long morrow to this mortal youth." Martyrdom is demonstration of immortality; for self preservation is the innermost, indestructible instinct of every conscious being. When the soul, in a sacred cause, enthusiastically rushes upon death, or in calm composure awaits death, it is irresistibly convinced that it cannot be hurt, but will be blessed, by the crisis. It knows that in an inexpressibly profound sense whosoever would ignobly save his life loses it, but whosoever would nobly lose his life saves it. Martyrdom demonstrates immortality. "Life embark'd out at sea, 'mid the wave tumbling roar, The poor ship of my body went down to the floor; But I broke, at the bottom of death, through a door, And, from sinking, began forever to soar." The most lamentable and pertinacious doubts of immortality sometimes arise from the survey of instances of gross wickedness, sluggishness, and imbecility forced on our attention. But, as these undeniably are palpable violations of the creative intention, it is not just to reason from them. In fairness the argument demands that we select the noblest, healthiest specimens of completed humanity to reason from. Should we not take a case in which God's will is so far plainly fulfilled, in order to trace that will farther and even to its finality? And regarding on his death bed a Newton, a Fenelon, a Washington, is it difficult to conceive him surviving the climax and catastrophe of his somatic cell basis and soaring to a more august range of existence? Remembering that such as these have lived and died, ay, and even the godlike Nazarene, can we believe that man is merely a white interrogation point lifted on the black margin of matter to ask the answerless secret of the universe and be erased? Such a conclusion charges God with the transcendent crime of infanticide perpetrated in the most deliberate manner and on the most gigantic scale. Who can bear, by thus quenching the hope of another life, to add death to death, and overcast, to every thoughtful eye, the whole sunny field of life with the melancholy shadow of a bier? There is a noble strength and confidence, cheering to the reader, in these words of one of the wisest and boldest of thinkers: "I should be the very last man to be willing to dispense with the faith in a future life: nay, I would say, with Lorenzo de'Medici, that all those are dead, even for the present life, who do not hope for another. I have the firm conviction that our soul is an existence of indestructible nature, whose working is from eternity to eternity. It is like the sun, that seems indeed to set, but really never sets, shining on in unchangeable splendor." 49 Such a view of our destiny incomparably inspires and ennobles us. Man, discovering under all the poor, wretched accidents of earth and sense and hard fortune the immortality of his soul, feels as that king's son who, lost in infancy, and growing up under the care of a forest hind, supposed himself to belong to the rude class among whom he lived; but one day, learning his true parentage, he knew beneath his mean disguise that he was a prince, and immediately claimed his kingdom. These facts of experience show clearly how much it behooves us to cultivate by every honest method this cardinal tenet of religion, how much wiser faith is in listening to the lucid echoes of the sky than despair in listening to the muffled reverberations of the grave. All noble and sweet beliefs grow with the growing nobleness and tenderness of characters sensitive to those fine revealings which pachydermatous souls can never know. In the upper hall of reason, before the high shrine of faith, burn the base doubts begotten in the cellars of sense; and they may serve as tapers to light your tentative way to conviction. If the floating al Sirat between physiology and psychology, earth and heaven, is too slippery and perilous for your footing, where heavy limbed science cannot tread, nerve the wings of faith for a free flight. Or, if every effort to fasten a definite theory on some solid support on the other side of the gulf fails, venture forth on the naked line of limitless desire, as the spider escapes from an unwelcome position by flinging out an exceedingly long and fine thread and going forth upon it sustained by the air.50 Whoever preserves the full intensity of the affections is little likely to lose his trust in God and a future life, even when exposed to lowering and chilling influences from material science and speculative philosophy: the glowing of the heart, as Jean Paul says, relights the extinguished torch in the night of the intellect, as a beast stunned by an electric shock in the head is restored by an electric shock in the breast. Daniel Webster says, in an expression of his faith in Christianity written shortly before his death, "Philosophical argument, especially that drawn from the vastness of the universe in comparison with the apparent insignificance of this globe, has sometimes shaken my reason for the faith which is in me; but my heart has always assured and reassured me."51 Contemplating the stable permanence of nature as it swallows our fleet generations, we may feel that we vanish like sparks in the night; but when we think of the persistent identity of the soul, and of its immeasurable superiority to the brute mass of matter, the aspect of the case changes and the moral inference is reversed. Does not the simple truth of love conquer and trample the world's aggregated lie? The man who, with assiduous toil and earnest faith, develops his forces, and disciplines his faculties, and cherishes his aspirations, and accumulates virtue and wisdom, is thus preparing the auspicious stores and conditions of another existence. As he slowly journeys over the mountains of life, aware that there can be 49 Eckermann's Conversations with Goethe. 50 Greenough, An Artist's Creed. 51 Memorial of Daniel Webster from the City of Boston, p. 16. no returning, he gathers and carries with him materials to build a ship when he reaches the strand of death. Upon the mist veiled ocean launching then, he will sail where? Whither God orders. Must not that be to the right port? We remember an old Brahmanic poem brought from the East by Ruckert and sweetly resung in the speech of the West full of encouragement to those who shall die.52 A man wrapped in slumber calmly reclines on the deck of a ship stranded and parting in the breakers. The plank on which he sleeps is borne by a huge wave upon a bank of roses, and he awakes amidst a jubilee of music and a chorus of friendly voices bidding him welcome. So, perhaps, when the body is shattered on the death ledge, the soul will be tossed into the fragrant lap of eternal life on the self identified and dynamic plank of personality. 52 Brahmanische Erzahlungen, s. 5. CHAPTER IX. MORALITY OF THE DOCTRINE OF A FUTURE LIFE. IN discussing the ethics of the doctrine of a future life a subject here amazingly neglected, there more amazingly maltreated, and nowhere, within our knowledge, truly analyzed and exhibited1 it is important that the theme be precisely defined and the debate kept strictly to the lines. Let it be distinctly understood, therefore, that the question to be handled is not, "Whether there ought to be a future life or not," nor, "Whether there is a future life or not." The question is, "What difference should it make to us whether we admit or deny the fact of a future life?" If we believe that we are to pass through death into an immortal existence, what inferences pertaining to the present are right, fully to be drawn from the supposition? If, on the other hand, we think there is nothing for us after the present, what are the logical consequences of that faith in regard to our aims and rules of conduct in this world? Suppose a man who has always imagined that death is utter annihilation should in some way suddenly acquire knowledge that an endless existence immediately succeeds the termination of this: what would be the legitimate instructions of his new information? Before we can fairly answer this inquiry, we need to know what relations connect the two states of existence. A knowledge of the law and method and means of man's destiny is more important for his guidance than the mere ascertainment of its duration. With reference to the query before us, four hypotheses are conceivable. If, in the first place, there be no connection whatever except that of temporal sequence between the present life and the future, then, so far as duty is concerned, the expectation of a world to come yields not the slightest practical application for the experience that now is. It can only be a source of comfort or of terror; and that will be accordingly as it is conceived under the aspect of benignity or of vengeance. If, secondly, the character of the future life depend on conditions to be fulfilled here, but those conditions be not within our control, then, again, no inferences of immediate duty can be drawn from the apprehended hereafter. Being quasi actors in a scene prearranged and with a plot predetermined, we can no more be capable of any obligation or choice, in regard to the end, than puppets which some unseen Harlequin moves by the terrible wires of primitive decree or transmitted depravity towards the genial or the tragic crisis. If the soul's fate there is to be heaven or hell according to the part enacted here, it must have free will and a fair opportunity to work the unmarred problem safely out. Otherwise the future life is reduced, as far as it affects us here, to a mere source of complacency or of horror as it respectively touches the elect and the reprobate. Thirdly, it may be conceived that the future life is a state of everlasting reward and punishment unchangeably decided by the way in which the probationary period allotted on 1 The only direct treatise on the subject known to us is Tilemann's Kritik der Unsterblichkeitslehre in Ansehung des Sittengesetzes, published in 1789. And this we have not seen. earth is passed through. Here are men, for a brief time, free to act thus or otherwise. Do thus, and the endless bliss of heaven is won. Do otherwise, and the endless agony of hell is incurred. The plain rule of action yielded by this doctrine is, Sacrifice all other things to the one thing needful. The present life is in itself a worthless instant. The future life is an inexhaustible eternity. And yet this infinite wealth of glory or woe depends on how you act during that poor moment. Therefore you have nothing to do while on earth but to seek the salvation of your soul. To waste a single pulse beat on any thing else is the very madness of folly. To find out how to escape hell and secure heaven, and then to improve the means, this should absolutely absorb every energy and every thought and every desire of every moment. This world is a bridge of straw over the roaring gulf of eternal fire. Is there leisure for sport and business, or room for science and literature, or mood for pleasures and amenities? No: to get ourselves and our friends into the magic car of salvation, which will waft us up from the ravenous crests of the brimstone lake packed with visages of anguish, to bind around our souls the floating cord of redemption, which will draw us up to heaven, this should intensely engage every faculty. Nothing else can be admitted save by oversight of the awful facts. For is it not one flexible instant of opportunity, and then an adamantine immortality of doom? That doctrine of a future life which makes eternal unalterable happiness or misery depend on the fleeting probation allowed here yields but one practical moral; and that it pronounces with imminent urgency and perfect distinctness. The only true duty, the only real use, of this life is to secure the forensic salvation of the soul by improvement of the appointed means. Suspended by such a hair of frailty, for one breathless moment, on such a razor edged contingence, an entrancing sea of blessedness above, a horrible abyss of torture beneath, such should be the all concentrating anxiety to secure safety that there would be neither time nor taste for any thing else. Every object should seem an altar drenched with sacrificial blood, every sound a knell laden with dolorous omen, every look a propitiatory confession, every breath a pleading prayer. From so single and preternatural a tension of the believer's faculties nothing could allow an instant's cessation except a temporary forgetting or blinking of the awful scene and the immeasurable hazard. Such would be a logical application to life of the genuine morals of the doctrine under consideration. But the doctrine itself is to be rejected as false on many grounds. It is deduced from Scripture by a technical and unsound interpretation. It is unjust and cruel, irreconcilable with the righteousness or the goodness of God. It is unreasonable, opposed to the analogies of nature and to the experience of man. It is wholly impossible to carry it out consistently in the practice of life. If it were thoroughly credited and acted upon, all the business of the world would cease, and the human race would soon die out. There remains one other view of the relationship of a future life with the present. And it seems to be the true view. The same Creator presiding, the same laws prevailing, over infinitude and eternity that now rule over time and earth, our immortality cannot reasonably be imagined either a moment of free action and an eternity of fixed consequences, or a series of separate fragments patched into a parti colored experience with blanks of death between the patterns of life. It must be conceived as one endless existence in linear connection of cause and effect developing in progressive phases under varying conditions of motive and scenery. With what we are at death we live on into the next life. In every epoch and world of our destiny our happiness depends on the possession of a harmoniously working soul harmoniously related with its environment. Each stage and state of our eternal existence has its peculiarities of duty and privilege. In this one our proper work is to improve the opportunities, discharge the tasks, enjoy the blessings, belonging here. We are to do the same in the next one when we arrive in that. All the wealth of wisdom, virtue, strength, and harmony we acquire in our present life is the vantage ground and capital wherewith we start in the succeeding life. Therefore the true preparation for the future is to fit ourselves to enter it under the most favorable auspices, by accumulating in our souls all the spiritual treasures afforded by the present. In other words, the truest aim we can set before ourselves during our existence on earth is to make it yield the greatest possible results of the noblest experience. The life hereafter is the elevated and complementary continuation of the life here; and certainly the directest way to ameliorate the continuation is to improve the commencement. But, it may be said, according to this representation, the fact of a future life makes no difference in regard to our duty now; for if the grave swallows all, still, it is our duty and our interest to make the best and the most of our life in the world while it lasts. True; and really that very consideration is a strong proof of the correctness of the view in question. It corresponds with the other arrangements of God. He makes every thing its own end, complete in itself, at the same time that it subserves some further end and enters into some higher unity. He is no mere Teleologist, hobbling towards his conclusions on a pair of decayed logic crutches,2 but an infinite Artist, whose means and ends are consentaneous in the timeless and spaceless spontaneity and perfection of his play. If the tomb is our total goal, our genuine aim in this existence is to win during its course an experience the largest in quantity and the best in quality. On the other hand, if another life follows this, our wisdom is just the same; because that experience alone, with the favor of God, can constitute our fitness and stock to enter on the future. And yet between the two cases there is this immense difference, not indeed in duty, but in endowment, that in the latter instance we work out our allotted destiny here, in a broader illumination, with grander incentives, and with vaster consolations. A future life, then, really imposes no new duty upon the present, alters no fundamental ingredient in the present, takes away none of the charms and claims of the present, but merely sheds an additional radiance upon the shaded lights already shining here, infuses an additional motive into the stimulants already animating our purposes, distills an additional balm into the comforts which already assuage our sorrows amidst an evanescent scene. The belief that we are to live hereafter in a compensating world explains to us many a sad mystery, strengthens us for many an oppressive burden, consoles us in many a sharp grief. Else we should oftener go mad in the baffling whirl of problems, oftener obey the baser voice, oftener yield to despair. These three are the moral uses, in the present life, of the 2 "Seht, an der morschen Syllogismenkrucke Hinkt Gott in Seine Welt."Lenau's Satire auf einen Professor philosophia. doctrine of a future life. Outside of these three considerations the doctrine has no ethical meaning for human observance here. It will be seen, according to the foregoing representation, that the expectation of a future life, instead of being harmful to the interests and attractions of the present, simply casts a cheering and magnifying light upon them. It does not depreciate the realities or nullify the obligations now upon us, but emphasizes them, flinging their lights and shades forward through a mightier vista. Consequently there is no reason for assailing the idea of another life in behalf of the interests of this. Such an opposition between the two states is entirely sophistical, resulting from a profound misinterpretation of the truemoral relations connecting them. The belief in immortality has been mistakenly attacked, not merely as hostile to our welfare on earth, but likewise as immoral in itself, springing from essential selfishness, and in turn nourishing selfishness and fatally tainting every thing with that central vice. To desire to live everlastingly as an identical individual, it has been said, is the ecstasy and culmination of avaricious conceitedness. Man, the vain egotist, dives out of sight in God to fish up the pearl of his darling self. He makes his poor individuality the measure of all things, his selfish desire the law of endless being. Such a rampant proclamation of self will and enthronement of pure egotism, flying in the face of the solemn and all submerging order of the universe, is the very essence and climax of immorality and irreligiousness. To this assault on the morality of the belief in a future life, whether made in the devout tones of magnanimous sincerity, as by the sublime Schleiermacher, or with the dishonest trickiness of a vulgar declaimer for the rehabilitation of the senses, as by some who might be named, several fair replies may be made. In the first place, the objection begs the question, by assuming that the doctrine is a falsehood, and that its disciples wilfully set up their private wishes against the public truth. Such tremendous postulates cannot be granted. It is seizing the victory before the battle, grasping the conclusion without establishing the premises. For, if there be a future life provided by the Creator, it cannot be sinful or selfish in us to trust in it, to accept it with humble gratitude, and to prepare our souls for it. That, instead of being rebellious arrogance or overweening selfishness, would simply be conforming our thoughts and plans, our desires and labors, to the Divine arrangements. That would be both morality and piety. When one clings by will to a doctrine known to be a falsehood, obstinately suppressing reason to affirm it as a truth, and, in obedience to his personal whims, trying to force all things into conformity with it, he does act as a selfish egotist in full violation of the moral law and the spirit of religion. But a future life we believe to be a fact; and therefore we are, in every respect, justified in gladly expecting it and consecratedly living with reference to it. Furthermore, admitting it to be an open question, neither proved nor disproved, but poised in equal uncertainty, still, it is not immoral nor undevout deeply to desire and fondly to hope a personal immortality. "The aim of religion," it has been said, "is the annihilation of one's own individuality, the living in the All, the becoming one with the universe." But in such a definition altogether too much is assumed. The aim of religion is only the annihilation of the self will of the individual as opposed to the Will of the Whole, not the losing of one's self in the unconscious wastes of the universe, but the harmonizing of one's self with the Supreme Law of the universe. An humble, loving, and joyous conformity to the truth constitutes morality and religion. This is not necessarily inconsistent with a personal immortality. Besides, the charge may be retorted. To be identified with the universe is a prouder thought than to be subordinated to it as an infinitesimal individual. It is a far haughtier conceit to fancy one's self an integral part of God's substance than to believe one's self a worshipping pensioner of God's will. The conception, too, is less native to the mind, has been more curiously sought out, and is incomparably more pampering to speculative luxury. If accusations of selfishness and wilfulness are to be hurled upon any modes of preferred faith as to our destiny, this self styled disinterested surrender of our personality to the pantheistic Soul is as obnoxious to them as the common belief. If a desire for personal immortality be a normal experience in the development of our nature, it cannot be indictable as an offence, but must be recognised as an indication of God's design. Whether the desire is a cold and degraded piece of egotism deserving rebuke and contempt, or a lofty and sympathetic affection worthy of reverence and approval, depends on no intrinsic ingredient of the desire itself, but on the character in which it has its being. One person will be a heartless tyrant, another a loving saint, in his hope of a future life. Shall our love of the dead, our prayers to meet them again, our unfathomed yearnings to know that they still live and are happy, be stigmatized as mean and evil? Regard for others as much as for ourselves prompts the eternal sigh. Nor will Divinity ever condemn the feeling himself has awakened. It is said that Xerxes, gazing once upon his gorgeous army of a million men spread out below hire, sheathed in golden armor, white plumes nodding, purple standards waving, martial horns blowing, wept as he thought that in thirty years the entire host composing that magnificent spectacle would be dead. To have gazed thoughtfully upon such a sight with unmoved sensibilities would imply a much more selfish and hard hearted egotist. So when a lonely philanthropist from some meditative eminence looks down on the human race, if, as the contemplation of their pathetic fading and decay wounds his saddened heart, he heals and cheers it with the faith of a glorious immortality for them all, who shall call him selfish and sinful? To rest contented with the speedy night and the infinite oblivion, wiping off all the unsolved sums from the slate of existence with annihilation's remorseless sponge, that would be the selfishness and the cruelty. When that sweet asp, death, fastens on our vein of earthly life, we all feel, like the dying queen of Egypt, that we have "immortal longings" in us. Since the soul thus holds by a pertinacious instinct to the eternity of her own existence, it is more rational to conclude that this is a pledge of her indestructible personality, God's impregnable defence reared around the citadel of her being, than to consider it the artificial rampart flung up by an insurgent egotism. In like manner, it is a misrepresentation of the facts to assert the culpable selfishness of the faith in a future life as a demanded reward for fidelity and merit here. No one demands immortality as pay for acquired desert. It is modestly looked for as a free boon from the God who freely gave the present and who has by a thousand symbolic prophecies promised it. Richter says, with great insight, "We desire immortality not as the reward of virtue, but as its continuance. Virtue can no more be rewarded than joy can: it is its own reward." Kant says, "Immortality has been left so uncertain in order that pure freedom of choice, and no selfish views, shall prompt our aspirations." "But," Jean Paul keenly replies, "as we have now discovered this intention, its object is defeated. Besides, if the belief in immortality makes virtue selfish, the experience of it in the next world would make it more so." The anticipation of heaven can hardly make man a selfish calculator of profit; because heaven is no reward for crafty reckoning, but the home of pure and holy souls. Virtue which resists temptation and perseveres in rectitude because it has a sharp eye to an ulterior result is not virtue. No credible doctrine of a future life offers a prize except to those who are just and devout and strenuous in sacred service from free loyalty to the right and the good, spontaneously obeying and loving the higher and better call because it divinely commands their obedience and love. The law of duty is the superior claim of truth and goodness. Virtue, yielding itself filially to this, finds in heaven not remuneration, but a sublimer theatre and an immortal career. Egotistic greed, all mere prudential considerations as determining conditions or forces in the award, are excluded as unclean and inadmissible by the very terms; and the doctrine stands justified on every ground as pure and wholesome before the holiest tribunal of ethics. Surely it is right that goodness should be blessed; but when it continues good only for the sake of being blessed it ceases to be goodness. It is not the belief in immortality, but only the belief in a corrupt doctrine of immortality which can poison the springs of disinterested virtue. The morality of the doctrine of a future life having thus been defended from the attacks of those who have sought to destroy it in the fancied interests either of the enjoyments of the earth or of the purity of virtue and religion, it now remains to free it from the still more fatal supports which false or superficial religionists have sought to give it by wrenching out of it meanings it never held, by various perverse abuses of it, by monstrous exaggerations of its moral importance to the present. We have seen that the supposition of another life, correctly interpreted, lays no new duty upon man, takes away from him no old duty or privilege, but simply gives to the previously existing facts of the case the intensifying glory and strength of fresh light, motive, and consolation. But many public teachers, not content to treat the subject with this sobriety of reason, instead of presenting the careful conclusions of a conscientious analysis, have sought to strengthen their argument to the feelings by help of prodigious assumptions, assumptions hastily adopted, highly colored, and authoritatively urged. Upon the hypothesis that annihilation is the fate of man, they are not satisfied merely to take away from the present all the additional light, incentive, and comfort imparted by the faith in a future existence, but they arbitrarily remove all the alleviations and glories intrinsically belonging to the scene, and paint it in the most horrible hues, and set it in a frame of midnight. Thus, instead of calmly seeking to elicit and recommend truth, they strive, by terrifying the fancy and shocking the prejudices, to make people accept their dogma because frightened at the seeming consequences of rejecting it. It is necessary to expose the fearful fallacies which have been employed in this way, and which are yet extensively used for the same purpose. Even a Christian writer usually so judicious as Andrews Norton has said, "Without the belief in personal immortality there can be no religion; for what can any truths of religion concern the feelings and the conduct of beings whose existence is limited to a few years in this world?" 3 Such a statement from such a quarter is astonishing. Surely the sentiments natural to a person or incumbent upon him do not depend on the duration of his being, but on the character, endowments, and relations of his being. The hypothetical fact that man perishes with his body does not destroy God, does not destroy man's dependence on God for all his privileges, does not annihilate the overwhelming magnificence of the universe, does not alter the native sovereignty of holiness, does not quench our living reason, imagination, or sensibility, while they last. The soul's gratitude, wonder, love, and worship are just as right and instinctive as before. If our experience on earth, before the phenomena of the visible creation and in conscious communion with the emblemed attributes of God, does not cause us to kneel in humility and to adore in awe, then it may be doubted if heaven or hell will ever persuade us to any sincerity in such acts. The simple prolongation of our being does not add to its qualitative contents, cannot increase the kinds of our capacity or the number of our duties. Chalmers utters an injurious error in saying, as he does, "If there be no future life, the moral constitution of man is stripped of its significancy, and the Author of that constitution is stripped of his wisdom and authority and honor." 4 The creative Sovereign of fifty million firmaments of worlds "stripped of his wisdom and authority and honor" because a few insects on a little speck are not eternal! Can egotistic folly any further go? The affirmation or denial of immortality neither adds to nor diminishes the numerical relations and ingredients of our nature and experience. If religion is fitted for us on the former supposition, it is also on the latter. To any dependent intelligence blessed with our human susceptibilities, reverential love and submission are as obligatory, natural, and becoming on the brink of annihilation as on the verge of immortality. Rebellious egotism makes all the difference. Truth is truth, whatever it be. Religion is the meek submission of self will to God's will. That is a duty not to be escaped, no matter what the future reserves or excludes for us. Another sophism almost universally accepted needs to be shown. Man, it is said, has no interest in a future life if not conscious in it of the past. If, on exchange of worlds, man loses his memory, he virtually ceases to exist, and might just as well be annihilated. A future life with perfect oblivion of the present is no life at all for us. Is not this style of thought the most provincial egotism, the utter absence of all generous thought and sympathy unselfishly grasping the absolute boons of being? It is a shallow error, too, even on the grounds of selfishness itself. In any point of view the difference is diametric and immense between a happy being in an eternal present, unconscious of the past, and no being at all. Suppose a man thirty years of age were offered his choice to die this moment, or to live fifty years longer of unalloyed success and happiness, only with a complete forgetfulness of all that has happened up to this moment. He would not hesitate to grasp the gift, however much he regretted the condition. 3 Tracts concerning Christianity, p. 307. 4 Bridgewater Treatise, part ii. ch. 10, sect. 15. It has often been argued that with the denial of a retributive life beyond the grave all restraints are taken off from the passions, free course given to every impulse. Chateaubriand says, bluntly, "There can be no morality if there be no future state." 5 With displeasing coarseness, and with most reprehensible recklessness of reasoning, Luther says, in contradiction to the essential nobleness of his loving, heroic nature, "If you believe in no future life, I would not give a mushroom for your God. Do, then, as you like. For if no God, so no devil, no hell: as with a fallen tree, all is over when you die. Then plunge into lechery, rascality, robbery, and murder." What bible of Moloch had he been studying to form, for the time, so horrid a theory of the happiest life, and to put so degrading an estimate upon human nature? Is man's will a starved wolf only held back by the triple chain of fear of death, Satan, and hell, from tearing forth with ravenous bounds to flesh the fangs of his desires in bleeding virtue and innocence? Does the greatest satisfaction man is capable of here, the highest blessedness he can attain to, consist in drunkenness, gluttony, dishonesty, violence, and impiety? If he had the appetite of a tiger or a vulture, then, thus to wallow in the offal of vice, dive into the carrion of sensuality, abandon himself to revelling in carnivorous crime, might be his instinct and his happiness. But by virtue of his humanity man loves his fellows, enjoys the scenery of nature, takes delight in thought and art, dilates with grand presentiments of glory and eternity, mysteriously yearns after the hidden God. To a reasonable man and no other is to be reasoned with on matters of truth and interest the assumption of this brief season as all, will be a double motive not to hasten and embitter its brevity by folly, excess, and sin. If you are to be dead to morrow, for that very reason, in God's name, do not, by gormandizing and guzzling, anticipate death to day! The true restraint from wrong and degradation is not a crouching conscience of superstition and selfishness, fancying a chasm of fire, but a high toned conscience of reason and honor, perceiving that they are wrong and degradation, and spontaneously loathing them. Still worse, many esteemed authors have not hesitated to assert that unless there be a future life there is not only no check on passion within, but no moral law without; every man is free to do what he pleases, without blame or fault. Sir Kenelm Digby says, in his "Treatise on Man's Soule," that "to predicate mortality in the soule taketh away all morality, and changeth men into beastes, by removing the ground of all difference in those thinges which are to governe our actions." 6 This style of teaching is a very mischievous absurdity. Admit, for a moment, that Jocko in the woods of Brazil, and Schiller in the brilliant circles of Weimar, will at last meet the same fate in the dusty grasp of death; yet, while they live, one is an ape, the other is a man. And the differences of capacity and of duty are numberless and immense. The statement is enough: argument would be ridiculous. The words of an audacious French preacher are yet more shocking than those of the English nobleman. It is hard to believe they could be uttered in good faith. Says Massillon, in his famous declamation on immortality, "If we wholly perish with the body, the maxims of charity, patience, justice, honor, gratitude, and friendship, are but empty words. Our own passions shall decide our duty. 5 Genie du Christianisme, partie ii. livre vi. chap. 3. 6 Ch. ix. sect. 10. If retribution terminate with the grave, morality is a mere chimera, a bugbear of human invention." 7 What debauched unbeliever ever inculcated a viler or a more fatal doctrine? Its utter barelessness, as a single illustration may show, is obvious at a glance. As the sciences of algebra and geometry, the relations of numbers and bodies, are true for the material world although they may be lost sight of when time and space are transcended in some higher state, so the science of ethics, the relations of nobler and baser, of right and wrong, the manifold grades and qualities of actions and motives, are true for human nature and experience in this life even if men perish in the grave. However soon certain facts are to end, while they endure they are as they are. In a moment of carelessness, by some strange slip of the mind, showing, perhaps, how tenaciously rooted are the common prejudice and falsehood on this subject, even so bold and fresh a thinker as Theodore Parker has contradicted his own philosophy by declaring, "If to morrow I perish utterly, then my fathers will be to me only as the ground out of which my bread corn is grown. I shall care nothing for the generations of mankind. I shall know no higher law than passion. Morality will vanish." 8 Ah, man reveres his fathers and loves to act nobly, not because he is to live forever, but because he is a man. And, though all the summer hopes of escaping the grave were taken from human life, choicest and tenderest virtues might still flourish, as it is said the German crossbill pairs and broods in the dead of winter. The martyr's sacrifice and the voluptuary's indulgence are very different things to day, if they do both cease to morrow. No speed of advancing destruction can equalize Agamemnon and Thersites, Mansfield and Jeffries, or hustle together justice and fraud, cowardice and valor, purity and corruption, so that they will interchange qualities. There is an eternal and immutable morality, as whiteness is white, and blackness is black, and triangularity is triangular. And no severance of temporal ties or compression of spatial limits can ever cut the condign bonds of duty and annihilate the essential distinctions of good and evil, magnanimity and meanness, faithfulness and treachery. Reducing our destiny from endless to definite cannot alter the inherent rightfulness and superiority of the claims of virtue. The most it can do is to lessen the strength of the motive, to give the great motor nerve of our moral life a perceptible stroke of palsy. In reference to the question, Can ephemera have a moral law? Richter reasons as follows: "Suppose a statue besouled for two days. If on the first day you should shatter it, and thus rob it of one day's life, would you be guilty of murder? One can injure only an immortal." 9 The sophistry appears when we rectify the conclusion thus: one can inflict an immortal injury only on an immortal being. In fact, it would appear to be a greater wrong and injury, for the time, to destroy one day's life of a man whose entire existence was confined to two days, than it would be to take away the same period from the bodily existence of one who immediately thereupon passes into a more exalted and eternal life. To the sufferer, the former would seem an immitigable calamity, the latter a benign furtherance; while, in the agent, the overt act is the same. This general moral problem has been more accurately answered by Isaac Taylor, whose lucid statement is as follows: "The creatures of a summer's day might be imagined, when 7 OEuvres Completes, tome xiii.: Immortalite de l'Ame. 8 Sermons of Theism, Sermon VII. 9 Werke, band xxxiii. s. 240. they stand upon the threshold of their term of existence, to make inquiry concerning the attributes of the Creator and the rules of his government; for these are to be the law of their season of life and the measure of their enjoyments. The sons of immortality would put the same questions with an intensity the greater from the greater stake." Practically, the acknowledged authority of the moral law in human society cannot be destroyed. Its influence may be unlimitedly weakened, its basis variously altered, but as a confessed sovereign principle it cannot be expelled. The denial of the freedom of the will theoretically explodes it; but social custom, law, and opinion will enforce it still. Make man a mere dissoluble mixture of carbon and magnetism, yet so long as he can distinguish right and wrong, good and evil, love and hate, and, unsophisticated by dialectics, can follow either of opposite courses of action, the moral law exists and exerts its sway. It has been asked, "If the incendiary be, like the fire he kindles, a result of material combinations, shall he not be treated in the same way?" 10 We should reply thus: No matter what man springs from or consists of, if he has moral ideas, performs moral actions, and is susceptible of moral motives, then he is morally responsible: for all practical and disciplinary purposes he is wholly removed from the categories of physical science. Another pernicious misrepresentation of the fair consequences of the denial of a life hereafter is shown in the frequent declaration that then there would be no motive to any thing good and great. The incentives which animate men to strenuous services, perilous virtues, disinterested enterprises, spiritual culture, would cease to operate. The essential life of all moral motives would be killed. This view is to be met by a broad and indignant denial based on an appeal to human consciousness and to the reason of the thing. Every man knows by experience that there are a multitude of powerful motives, entirely disconnected with future reward or punishment, causing him to resist evil and to do good even with self sacrificing toil and danger. When the fireman risks his life to save a child from the flames of a tumbling house, is the hope of heaven his motive? When the soldier spurns an offered bribe and will not betray his comrades nor desert his post, is the fear of hell all that animates him? A million such decisive specifications might be made. The renowned sentence of Cicero, "Nemo unquam sine magna spe immortalitatis se pro patria offerret ad mortem," 11 is effective eloquence; but it is a baseless libel against humanity and the truth. In every moment of supreme nobleness and sacrifice personality vanishes. Thousands of patriots, philosophers, saints, have been glad to die for the freedom of native land, the cause of truth, the welfare of fellow men, without a taint of selfish reward touching their wills. Are there not souls "To whom dishonor's shadow is a substance More terrible than death here and hereafter"? He must be the basest of men who would decline to do any sublime act of virtue because he did not expect to enjoy the consequences of it eternally. Is there no motive for the 10 Some discussion of this general subject is to be found in Schaller, Leib nod Seele. kap. 5: Die Consequentzen des Materialismus. And in Schopenhauer, Die beiden Grundprobleme der Ethik. 11 Tuscul. Quast. lib. i. cap. 15. preservation of health because it cannot be an everlasting possession? Since we cannot eat sweet and wholesome food forever, shall we therefore at once saturate our stomachs with nauseating poisons? If all experienced good and evil wholly terminate for us when we die, still, every intrinsic reason which, on the supposition of immortality, makes wisdom better than folly, industry better than sloth, righteousness better than iniquity, benevolence and purity better than hatred and corruption, also makes them equally preferable while they last. Even if the philosopher and the idiot, the religious philanthropist and the brutal pirate, did die alike, who would not rather live like the sage and the saint than like the fool and the felon? Shall heaven be held before man simply as a piece of meat before a hungry dog to make him jump well? It is a shocking perversion of the grandest doctrine of faith. Let the theory of annihilation assume its direst phase, still, our perception of principles, our consciousness of sentiments, our sense of moral loyalty, are not dissolved, but will hold us firmly to every noble duty until we ourselves flow into the dissolving abyss. But some one may say, "If I have fought with beasts at Ephesus, what advantageth it me if the dead rise not?" It advantageth you every thing until you are dead, although there be nothing afterwards. As long as you live, is it not glory and reward enough to have conquered the beasts at Ephesus? This is sufficient reply to the unbelieving flouters at the moral law. And, as an unanswerable refutation of the feeble whine of sentimentality that without immortal endurance nothing is worth our affection, let great Shakspeare advance, with his matchless depth of bold insight reversing the conclusion, and pronouncing, in tones of cordial solidity, "This, thou perceivest, will make thy love more strong, To love that well which thou must leave ere long." What though Decay's shapeless hand extinguish us? Its foreflung and enervating shadow shall neither transform us into devils nor degrade us into beasts. That shadow indeed only falls in the valleys of ignoble fear and selfishness, leaving all the clear road lines of moral truth and practical virtue and heroic consecration still high and bright on the table land of a worthy life; and every honorable soul, calmly confronting its fate, will cry, despite the worst, "The pathway of my duty lies in sunlight; And I would tread it with as firm a step, Though it should terminate in cold oblivion, As if Elysian pleasures at its Close Gleam'd palpable to sight as things of earth." If a captain knew that his ship would never reach her port, would he therefore neglect his functions, be slovenly and careless, permit insubordination and drunkenness among the crew, let the broad pennon draggle in filthy rents, the cordage become tangled and stiff, the planks be covered with dirt, and the guns be grimed with rust? No: all generous hearts would condemn that. He would keep every inch of the deck scoured, every piece of metal polished like a mirror, the sails set full and clean, and, with shining muzzles out, ropes hauled taut in their blocks, and every man at his post, he would sweep towards the reef, and go down into the sea firing a farewell salute of honor to the sun, his flag flying above him as he sunk. The dogmatic assertors of a future life, in a partisan spirit set upon making out the most impressive case in its behalf, have been guilty of painting frightful caricatures of the true nature and significance of the opposite conclusion. Instead of saying, "If such a thing be fated, why, then, it must be right, God's will be done," they frantically rebel against any such admission, and declare that it would make God a liar and a fiend, man a "magnetic mockery," and life a hellish taunt. This, however unconscious it may be to its authors, is blasphemous egotism. One of the tenderest, devoutest, richest, writers of the century has unflinchingly affirmed that if man who trusted that love was the final law of creation, although nature, her claws and teeth red with raven, shrieked against his creed be left to be blown about the desert dust or sealed within the iron hills, "No more! a monster, then, a dream, A discord; dragons of the prime, That tare each other in their slime, Were mellow music match'd with Him!" Epictetus says, "When death overtakes me, it is enough if I can stretch out my hands to God, and say, 'The opportunities which thou hast given me of comprehending and following thy government, I have not neglected. I thank thee that thou hast brought me into being. I am satisfied with the time I have enjoyed the things thou hast given me. Receive them again, and assign them to whatever place thou wilt.'" 12 Surely the pious heathen here speaks more worthily than the presumptuous Christian! How much fitter would it be, granting that death is the end all, to revise our interpretation, look at the subject from the stand point of universal order, not from this opinionative narrowness, and see if it be not susceptible of a benignant meaning, worthy of grateful acceptance by the humble mind of piety and the dispassionate spirit of science! Yea, let God and his providence stand justified, though man prove to have been egregiously mistaken. "Though He smite me, yet will I praise Him; though He slay me, yet will I trust in Him." To return into the state we were in before we were created is not to suffer any evil: it is to be absolutely free from all evil. It is but the more perfect playing of that part, of which every sound sleep is a rehearsal. The thought of it is mournful to the enjoying soul, but not terrific; and even the mournfulness ceases in the realization. He uttered a piece of cruel madness who said, "Hell is more bearable than nothingness." Is it worse to have nothing than it is to have infinite torture? Milton asks, "For who would lose, Though full of pain, this intellectual being?" Every creature that exists, if full of pain, would snatch at the boon of ceasing to be. To be blessed is a good; to be wretched is an evil; not to be is neither a good nor an evil, but simply 12 Dissert., lib. iv. cap. x. sect. 2. nothing. If such be our necessary fate, let us accept it with a harmonized mind, not entertaining fear nor yielding to sadness. Why should we shudder or grieve? Every time we slumber, we try on the dress which, when we die, we shall wear easily forever. Not satisfied to let the result rest in this somewhat sad but peaceful aspect, it is quite customary to give it a turn and hue of ghastly horribleness, by casting over it the dyspeptic dreams, injecting it with the lurid lights and shades, of a morbid and wilful fancy. The most loathsome and inexcusable instance in point is the "Vision of Annihilation" depicted by the vermicular, infested imagination of the great Teutonic phantasist while yet writhing under the sanguinary fumes of some horrid attack of nightmare. Stepping across the earth, which is but a broad executioner's block for pale, stooping humanity, he enters the larva world of blotted out men. The rotten chain of beings reaches down into this slaughter field of souls. Here the dead are pictured as eternally horripilating at death! "As annihilation, the white shapelessness of revolting terror, passes by each unsouled mask of a man, a tear gushes from the crumbled eye, as a corpse bleeds when its murderer approaches." Pah! Out upon this execrable retching of a nauseated fancy! What good is there in the baseless conceit and gratuitous disgust of saying, "The next world is in the grave, betwixt the teeth of the worm"? In the case supposed, the truth is merely that there is no next world anywhere; not that all the horrors of hell are scooped together into the grave, and there multiplied by others direr yet and unknown before. Man's blended duty and interest, in such a case, are to try to see the interior beauty and essential kindness of his fate, to adorn it and embrace it, fomenting his resignation with the sweet lotions of faith and peace, not exasperating his wounds with the angry pungents of suspicion, alarm, and complaint. At the worst, amidst all our personal disappointments, losses, and decay, "the view of the great universal whole of nature," as Humboldt says, "is reassuring and consolatory." If the boon of a future immortality be not ours, therefore to scorn the gift of the present life, is to act not like a wise man, who with grateful piety makes the best of what is given, but like a spoiled child, who, if he cannot have both his orange and his gingerbread, pettishly flings his gingerbread in the mud. The future life, outside of the realm of faith, to an earnest and independent inquirer, and considered as a scientific question, lies in a painted mist of uncertainty. There is room for hope, and there is room for doubt. The wavering evidences in some moods preponderate on that side, in other moods on this side. Meanwhile it is clear that, while he lives here, the best thing he can do is to cherish a devout spirit, cultivate a noble character, lead a pure and useful life in the service of wisdom, humanity, and God, and finally, when the appointed time arrives, meet the issue with reverential and affectionate conformity, without dictating terms. Let the vanishing man say, like Ruckert's dying flower, "Thanks to day for all the favors I have received from sun and stream and earth and sky, for all the gifts from men and God which have made my little life an ornament and a bliss. Heaven, stretch out thine azure tent while my faded one is sinking here. Joyous spring tide, roll on through ages yet to come, in which fresh generations shall rise and be glad. Farewell all! Content to have had my turn, I now fall asleep, without a murmur or a sigh." Surely the mournful nobility of such a strain of sentiment is preferable by much to the selfish terror of that unquestioning belief which in the Middle Age depicted the chase of the soul by Satan, on the columns and doors of the churches, under the symbol of a deer pursued by a hunter and hounds; and which has in later times produced in thousands the feeling thus terribly expressed by Bunyan, "I blessed the condition of the dog and toad because they had no soul to perish under the everlasting weight of hell!" Sight of truth, with devout and loving submission to it, is an achievement whose nobleness outweighs its sorrow, even if the gazer foresee his own destruction. It is not our intention in these words to cast doubt on the immortality of the soul, or to depreciate the value of a belief in it. We desire to vindicate morality and religion from the unwitting attacks made on them by many self styled Christian writers in their exaggeration of the practical importance of such a faith. The qualitative contents of human nature have nothing to do with its quantitative contents: our duties rest not on the length, but on the faculties and relations, of our existence. Make the life of a dog endless, he has only the capacity of a dog; make the life of a man finite, still, within its limits, he has the psychological functions of humanity. Faith in immortality may enlarge and intensify the motives to prudent and noble conduct; it does not create new ones. The denial of immortality may pale and contract those motives; it does not take them away. Knowing the burden and sorrow of earth, brooding in dim solicitude over the far times and men yet to be, we cannot recklessly utter a word calculated to lessen the hopes of man, pathetic creature, who weeps into the world and faints out of it. It is our faith not knowledge that the spirit is without terminus or rest. The faithful truth hunter, in dying, finds not a covert, but a better trail. Yet the saintliness of the intellect is to be purged from prejudice and self will. With God we are not to prescribe conditions. The thought that all high virtue and piety must die with the abandonment of belief in immortality is as pernicious and dangerous as it is shallow, vulgar, and unchristian. The view is obviously gaining prevalence among scientific and philosophical thinkers, that life is the specialization of the universal in the individual, death the restoration of the individual to the whole. This doubt as to a personal future life will unquestionably increase. Let traditional teachers beware how they venture to shift the moral law from its immutable basis in the will of God to a precarious poise on the selfish hope and fear of man. The sole safety, the ultimate desideratum, is perception of law with disinterested conformity. The influence of the doctrine of reward and punishment in a future state, as a working motive for the observance of the moral law, is enormously overestimated. The influence, as such a motive, of the public opinion of mankind, with the legal and social sanctions, is enormously underestimated. And the authority of a personal perception of right is also most unbecomingly depreciated. UNIVERSAL ORDER is the expression of the purposes of God, not as arbitrarily chosen by his will and capriciously revealed in a book, but as necessitated by his nature and embodied in his works. The true basis of morality is universal order. The true end of morality is life, the sum of moral laws being identical with the sum of the conditions in accordance with which the fruition of the functions of life can be secured with nearest approach to perfectness, perpetuity, and universality. The true sanctions of morality are the manifold forms in which consciousness of life is heightened by harmony with universal order or lowered by discord with it. The true law of moral sacrifice or resistance to temptation is misrepresented by the common doctrine of heaven and hell, which makes it consist in the renunciation of a present good for the clutching of a future good, the voluntary suffering of a small present evil to avoid the involuntary suffering of an immense future evil. The true law of moral sacrifice is deeper, purer, more comprehensive, than that. It expresses our duty, in accordance with the requirements of universal order, to subordinate the gratification of any part of our being to that of the whole of our being, to forego the good of any portion of our life in deference to that of all our life, to renounce any happiness of the individual which conflicts with the welfare of the race, to hold the spiritual atom in absolute abeyance to the spiritual universe, to sink self in God. If a man believe in no future life, is he thereby absolved from the moral law? The kind and number of his duties remain as before: only the apparent grandeur of their scale and motives is diminished. The two halves of morality are the co ordination of separate interests in universal order, and the loyalty of the parts to the wholes. The desire to remove the obligations and sanctions of the moral law from their intrinsic supports, and posit them on the fictitious pedestals of a forensic heaven and hell, reveals incompetency of thought and vulgarity of sentiment in him who does it, and is a procedure not less perilous than unwarranted. If the creation be conceived as a machine, it is a machine self regulating in all its parts by the immanent presence of its Maker. When we die, may the Spirit of Truth, the Comforter of Christ, be our confessor; the last inhaled breath our cup of absolution; the tears of some dear friend our extreme unction; no complaint for past trials, but a grateful acknowledgment for all blessings, our parting word. And then, resigning ourselves to the universal Father, assured that whatever ought to be, and is best to be, will be, either absolute oblivion shall be welcome, or we will go forward to new destinies, whether with preserved identity or with transformed consciousness and powers being indifferent to us, since the will of God is done. In the mean time, until that critical pass and all decisive hour, as Milnes says: "We all must patient stand, Like statues on appointed pedestals: Yet we may choose since choice is given to shun Servile contentment or ignoble fear In the expression of our attitude; And with far straining eyes, and hands upcast, And feet half raised, declare our painful state, Yearning for wings to reach the fields of truth, Mourning for wisdom, panting to be free." PART SIXTH SUPPLEMENTARY. [FIFTEEN YEARS LATER] CHAPTER I. THE END OF THE WORLD. WE read in the New Testament that the heavens and the earth are reserved unto fire against the day of judgment, when they shall be burned up, and all be made new. It is said that the elements shall melt with ferment heat, the stars fall, and the sky pass away like a scroll that is rolled together. On these and similar passages is based the belief of Christendom in the destined destruction of the world by fire and in the scenic judgment of the dead and the living gathered before the visible tribunal of Christ. This belief was once general and intense. It is still common, though more vague and feeble than formerly. In whatever degree it is held, it is a doctrine of terror. We hope by tracing its origin, and showing how mistaken it is, to help dispel its sway, free men from the further oppression of its fearfulness, and put in its place the just and wholesome authority of the truth. The true doctrine of the divine government of the world, the correct explanation of the course and sequel of history, must be more honorable to God, more useful to men, of better working and omen in the life of society, than any error can be. Let us then, as far as we are able, displace by the truth the errors prevalent around us in regard to the end of the world and the day of judgment. It will help us in our proposed investigation, if we first notice that the ecclesiastical doctrine as to an impending destruction of the world is not solitary, but has prototypes and parallels in the faiths of other nations and ages. Almost every people, every tribe, has its cosmogony or theory of the creation, in which there are accounts, more or less rude or refined, general or minute, of the supposed beginning and of the imagined end of nature. All early literatures from the philosophic treatises of the Hindus to the oral traditions of the Polynesians are found to contain either sublime dreams or obscure prophecies or awful pictures of the final doom and destruction of earth and man. The Hebrew symbols and the Christian beliefs in relation to this subject therefore stand not alone, but in connection with a multitude of others, each one plainly reflecting the degree of knowledge and stage of development attained by the minds which originated it. Before proceeding to examine the familiar doctrine so enveloped in our prejudices, a brief examination of some kindred doctrines, less familiar to us and quite detached from our prejudices, will be of service. The sacred books of the Hindus describe certain enormous periods of time in which the universe successively begins and ends, springs into being and sinks into nothing. These periods are called kalpas, and each one covers a duration of thousands of millions of years. Each kalpa of creation is called a day of Brahma; each kalpa of destruction, a night of Brahma. The belief is that Brahma, waking from the slumber of his self absorbed solitude, feels his loneliness, and his thoughts and emotions go forth in creative forms, composing the immense scheme of worlds and creatures. These play their parts, and run their courses, until the vast day of Brahma is completed; when he closes his eyes, and falls to rest, while the whole system of finite things returns to the silence and darkness of its aboriginal unity, and remains there in invisible annihilation through the stupendous night that precedes the reawaking of the slumbering Godhead and the appearance of the creation once more. A little reflection makes the origin of this imagery and belief clear. Each night, as the darkness comes down, and the outer world disappears, man falls asleep, and, so far as he is consciously concerned, every thing is destroyed. In his unconsciousness, everything ceases to be. The light dawns again, he awakes, and his reopened senses create anew the busy frame and phenomena of nature. Transfer this experience from man to God; consider it not as abstract and apparent, but as concrete and real, and you have the Hindu doctrine of the kalpa. When we sleep, to us all things are destroyed; and when we awake, to us they reappear. When God sleeps, all things in themselves really end; and when he wakes, they begin anew to be. The visible and experimental phenomena of day and night, sleeping and waking, are universalized, and attributed to God, It is a poetic process of thought, natural enough to a rich minded, simple people, but wholly illegitimate as a logical ground of belief, But being stated in books supposed to be infallibly inspired, and in the absence of critical tests for the discrimination of sound from unsound thought, it was implicitly accepted by multitudes. Closely allied to the foregoing doctrine, yet in several particulars strikingly different from it, and evidently quite independent in its origin, was the Great Year of the Stoics, or the alternative blotting out and restoration of all things. This school of philosophers conceived of God as a pure artistic force or seed of universal energy, which exhibits its history in the evolution of the kosmos, and, on its completion, blossoms into fire, and vanishes. The universal periodical conflagration destroys all evil, and leaves the indestructible God alone in his pure essence again. The artistic germ or seed force then begins, under its laws of intrinsic necessity, to go once more through the same process to the same end. The rise of this imagery and belief is not so obvious as in the last instance, but it is equally discoverable and intelligible. Every animal, every flower, every plant, begins from its proper specific germ or force, goes through a fixed series of growths and changes, and relapses into its prime elements, and another and another follow after it in the same order. The seasons come and go, and come again and go again, Every planet repeats its revolutions over and over. Wherever we look, this repetition of identical processes greets our vision. Now, by imaginative association universalize this repetition of the course of phenomena as seen in the parts, and take it up and apply it to the whole creation, and you have the doctrine in hand. It is a poetic process of thought not scientific or philosophic, and without claim to belief; yet, in the absence of scientific data and standards, it might easily win acceptance on authority. The Scandinavians, also, have transmitted to us, in their sacred books, descriptions of their belief in the approaching end of the world, descriptions rude, wild, terrible, not without elements of appalling grandeur. They foretell a day called Ragnarok, or the Twilight of the gods, when all the powers of good and evil shall join in battle, and the whole present system of things perish in a scene of unutterable strife and dismay. The Eddas were composed in an ignorant but deeply poetic and fertile age, when all the mythological elements of mind were in full action. Their authors looking within, on their own passions, and without, on the natural scenery around them, conscious of order and disorder, love and hate, virtue and crime, beholding phenomena of beauty and horror, sun and stars, night and tempest, winter and summer, icebergs and volcanoes, placid moonlight and blinding mist, assisting friends and battling foes, personified everything as a demon or a divinity. Asgard, above the blue firmament, was the bright home of the gods, the Asir. Helheim, beneath the rocky earth and the frozen ocean, was the dark and foul abode of the bad spirits, the Jotuns. Everywhere in nature, fog and fire, fertility and barrenness, were in conflict; everywhere in society, law and crime were contending. In the moon followed by a drifting cloud, they saw a goddess chased by a wolf. The strife goes on waxing, and must sooner or later reach a climax. Each side enlists its allies, until all are ranged in opposition, from Jormungandur, the serpent of the deep, to Heindall, the warder of the rainbow, gods and brave men there, demons, traitors, and cowards here. Then sounds the horn of battle, and the last day dawns in fire and splendor from the sky, in fog and venom from the abyss. Flame devours the earth. For the most part, the combatants mutually slay each other. Only Gimli, the high, safe heaven of All Father, remains as a refuge for the survivors and the beginning of a new and fairer world. The natural history of this mythological mess is clear enough. It arises from the poetic embodiment and personification of phenomena, the grouping together of all evil and of all good, then imaginatively universalizing the conflict, and carrying it out in idea to its inevitable ultimatum. The process of thought was obviously natural in its ground, but fictitious in its result. Yet in a period when no sharp distinction was drawn between fancy and fact, song and science, but an indiscriminate faith was often yielded to both, even such a picturesque medley as this might be held as religious truth. The Zarathustrian or Persian scheme of a general judgment of men and of the world in some respects resembles the systems already set forth, in other respects more closely approaches that Christian doctrine partially borrowed from it, and which is hereafter to be noticed. Ahura Mazda, the God of light and truth, creates the world full of all sorts of blessings. His adversary, Angra Mainyus, the author of darkness and falsehood, seeks to counteract and destroy the works of Ahura Mazda by means of all sorts of correspondent evils and woes. When Ahura Mazda creates the race of men happy and immortal, Angra Mainyus, the old serpent, full of corruption and destruction, steals in, seduces them from their allegiance, and brings misery and death on them, and then leads their souls to his dark abode. The whole creation is supposed to be crowded with good spirits, the angels of Ahura Mazda, seeking to carry out his beneficent designs; and also with evil spirits, the ministers of Angra Mainyus, plotting to make men wicked, and to pervert and poison every blessing with an answering curse. Light is the symbol of God, darkness the symbol of his Antagonist. Under these hostile banners are ranged all living creatures, all created objects. For long periods this dreadful contention rages, involving everything below in its fluctuations. But at last Ahura Mazda subdues Angra Mainyus, overturns all the mischief he has done, by means of a great deliverer whom he has sent among men to instruct and redeem them raises the dead, purifies the world with fire, and, after properly punishing the guilty, restores all nature to its original paradisal condition, free from pain and death. In the primitive state of mankind, when the germs of this religion were conceived, when men dwelt in ignorance, exposure, and fear, they naturally shuddered at darkness as a supernatural enemy, and worshipped light as a supernatural friend. That became the emblem or personification of the Devil, this the emblem or personification of God. They grouped all evils with that, all goods with this. Imaginatively associating all light and darkness, all blessing and bale, respectively with Ahura Mazda and Angra Mainyus, they universalized the fragmentary embodiments and oppositions of these into one great battle; and under the impulse of worshipping faith and hope, carried it to its crisis in the final victory of the good. Plainly, it is mere poetry injected a little with a later speculative element, and dealing in mythological fashion chiefly with the phenomena of nature as related to the experience of man. No one now can accept it literally. This survey of the various heathen myths of the end of the world has prepared us, in some degree, to consider the corresponding view held by the Jews, and more completely developed by the Christian successors to the Jewish heritage of thought and feeling. The Hebrews believed themselves to be exclusively the chosen people of God, who directly ruled over them himself by a theocratic government represented in their patriarchs, law givers, prophets, and kings. Jehovah was the only true God; they were his only pure and accepted worshippers, sharply distinguished from the whole idolatrous world. The heathen nations, uncircumcised adorers of vain idols or of demons, were by consequence enemies both of the true God and of his servants. This contrast and hostility they even carried over into the unseen world, and imagined that each nation had its own guardian angel in the Court of Jehovah in heaven, who contended there for its interests; their own national guardian, the angel Michael, being more powerful and nearer to the throne than any other one. In the calamities that fell on them, they recognized the vengeance of Jehovah for the violation of his commands. In their victories, their deliverances, their great blessings, especially in their rescue from Egypt, and in the many miracles which they believed to have accompanied that great passage, they saw the signal superiority of their God over every other god, and the proofs of his particular providence over them in distinct preference to all other peoples. He had, as they piously believed, made a special covenant with Abraham, and set apart his posterity as a sacred family, exclusively intrusted with the divine law, and commissioned to subdue and govern all the other families of the earth. When this proud and intensely cherished faith was baffled of fulfillment, they never dreamed of abandoning it. They only supposed its triumphant execution postponed, as a penalty for their sins, and looked forward with redoubled ardor to a better time when their hopes should break into fruition, their exile be ended, their captivity appear as a dream, Jerusalem be the central gem of the world, and the anointed ruler wield his sceptre over all mankind. But misfortunes and woes were heaped on them. Their city was sacked, their temple desecrated, their people dragged into foreign slavery, forbidden to celebrate the rites of their religion, slaughtered by wholesale. Many times, during the two centuries before and the first century after Christ, did they suffer these terrible sorrows. Their hatred and scorn of their heathen persecutors; their faith in their own incomparable destiny; their expectation of the speedy appearance of an anointed deliverer, raised up by Jehovah to avenge them and vindicate their trust, all became the more fervent and profound the longer the delay. Under these circumstances grew up the Jewish doctrine of the Messiah, as it is seen in that Apocalyptic literature represented by the Book of Daniel, the Sibylline Oracles, the Book of Enoch, the Assumption of Moses, the Fourth Book of Esdras, and similar documents. The Jews were remarkably free from that habit of mind which led almost all the other nations to personify the most startling phenomena of nature as living beings, which created fetiches of stocks and stones and animals; saw a god in every wind, season, star, and cloud. The Semitic mind and literature were more sober, rational, and monotheistic. The place occupied in the thoughts of other peoples by the phenomena of nature was held in the thoughts of the Jews by political phenomena, by ritual, legal, and military relations. And the poetic action of fancy, the mythological creativeness and superstitious feeling which other people exercised on the objects and changes of nature, the Jews exercised on the phenomena of their own national history. The burning central point of their polity and belief and imagination was the conviction of their own national consecration as the exclusive people of God, meant to conquer, teach, and rule all the infidel nations; that Jehovah was literally their invisible King, represented in their chief ruler; that every great triumph or disaster was a signal Day of the Lord, a special Coming of Jehovah to reward or punish his people. During their repeated bondages under the Persians, Syrians, Greeks, Parthians, Romans, their feeling of the antagonism between themselves and the other people increased. From the time of the Babylonish captivity the Persian doctrine of good and evil spirits had infiltrated into their belief; and they adopted the notion of Angra Mainyus, and developed it (with certain modifications) into their conception of Satan. Then, in their faith, the war of Jews and Gentiles spread into the invisible world, and took up on its opposite sides the good and the fallen angels. And, finally, the idea of their Messiah became the centre of a battle and a judgment in which all the generations of the dead as well as of the living were to have a part; and which should culminate in the overthrow of evil, the subjection of the heathen, the assignment of the righteous to a paradisal reign, and of the wicked to a doom typified by the submersion of Sodom and Gomorrah in fiery brimstone. How plainly this doctrine was the result of the same poetic process of thought with the other schemes already depicted! Only they were developed on the basis of natural phenomena; this, on the basis of political phenomena. It is simply the imaginative universalization of the struggle between Jew and Gentile, and the carrying of it to its crisis and sequel. And when inexplicable delays and the accumulation of obstacles made the realization of the expected result amidst the conditions of the present world seem ever more and more hopeless, the growing and assimilative action of faith and fancy expanded the scene, and transferred it to a transmundane state, involving the destruction of the heavens and earth and their replacement with a new creation. Is there any more real reason for believing this doctrine than there is for believing the other kindred schemes? Not a whit. It is a mistake of the same poetic nature, and resting on the same grounds with them. Two thousand years have passed, and it has not been fulfilled; and there is ever less and less sign of its fulfillment. It never will be fulfilled, except in a spiritual sense. The Jews will finally lose their pride of race and covenant, abandon their special Messianic creed, and blend themselves and their opinions in the mass of redeemed and progressive humanity, and no more dream of a physical resurrection of the dead amidst the dissolving elements of nature. And now we must notice that besides all these poetic pictures of the end of the world, there are prophecies of a similar result which wear an apparently scientific garb. Many men of science firmly believe that our world is destined to be destroyed, that a close for the earthly fortunes of mankind can be plainly foreseen. No little alarm was felt a century or more ago, when it was discovered that there was a progressive diminution going on in the orbit of the moon, which must cause it at length to impinge upon the earth. But La Grange exhibited the fallaciousness of the prophecy, by showing that the decrease was periodical and succeeded by a corresponding increase. Intense and widely spread terror has repeatedly been felt less a comet should come within our planetary orbit, and shatter or melt our globe by its contact. But the discovery of the nebulous nature of comets, of their great numbers and regular movements, has quite dissipated that fear from the popular mind in our day. There are, however, other forms of scientific speculation which put the prophesied destruction of the world on a more plausible and formidable basis. It is supposed by many scientists that all force is derived from the consumption of heat; and that the fuel must at last be used up, and therefore no life or energy be left for sustaining the present system of the creation. This theory is met by the counter statement that the heat of the sun and other similar centres may possibly not depend on any material consumption; or, if it does, there may be a self replenishing supply, loss and repair forming an endless circle. It is foretold by some chemists, that the progressive interior cooling and contraction of our orb will cause ever greater interstices or vacant spaces among the solid substances below the outer crust; and that into these pores, first all liquids, then all gases and the whole atmosphere, will be absorbed: so that the world will be left desolate, utterly uninhabitable by life. Again: it is said that all force or energy tends at every transformation to pass (at least partially) into heat; and therefore that, finally, all force will be frittered down into the one form of heat, all matter vanishing from its separate shapes into the state of a homogeneous, nebulous fire. The portentous sight, repeatedly descried by astronomers, of a nameless world, away in remotest space, which has suddenly kindled, blazed, smouldered, darkened, and vanished forever from its place, is perhaps a solemn symbol of the fate of our own planet; hinting at a time when the earth, too, shall make itself a funeral pyre, And, awed in distant orbs, some race unknown Shall miss one star whose smile had lit their own. This same final crisis is also prophesied on the basis of a slight retardation to which the planets are subjected in their passage through the ethereal medium. No matter how slight the resistance thus interposed, its consequence, it is thought, must accumulate and ultimately compel all material bodies to approach each other; and, as their successive collisions convert them into heat and vapor, nothing will be left at last but one uniform nebula. The process of evolution will then begin anew, and so the stupendous history of the universe repeat itself eternally. This is the sublimest of all the generalizations of science. It may be true, and it may not be true. At any rate, it differs immensely in the moral impression it makes from that made by the current theological doctrine of the same catastrophe. We can contemplate the scientific prophecy of the end of the world with a peace of mind which the traditional prophecy does not permit. In the first place, the ecclesiastical doctrine makes the destruction of the world a result of wrath and vengeance. The angry God looms above us with flaming features and avenging weapons to tread down his enemies. We shrink in fright from the wrath and power of the personal Judge, the inexorable Foe of the wicked. But the scientific doctrine makes the end a result of passionless laws, a steady evolution of effects from causes, wholly free from everything vindictive. Secondly. The ecclesiastical doctrine makes the dreadful conclusion a sudden event, an inconceivable shock of horror, falling in an instant, overwhelming all its victims with the swiftness of lightning in the unutterable agony of their ruin. But the scientific doctrine makes the climax a matter of slow and gradual approach. Whether the worlds are to be frozen up by increasing cold, or to evaporate in culminating heat, or to be converted into gas as they meet in their career, the changes of the chemical conditions will be so steady and moderate beforehand as to cause all living creatures to have diminished in numbers by insensible degrees, and to have utterly ceased long before the final shock arrives. Thirdly. The ecclesiastical doctrine makes the sequel imminent, near, ready to fall at a moment's warning. At any hour the signal may strike. Thus it is to the earnest believer a constant, urgent alarm, close at hand. But the scientific doctrine depicts the close as almost unimaginably remote. All the data in the hands of our scientists lead their calculations as to the nearest probable end to land them in an epoch so far off as to be stated only in thousands of millions of years. Thus the picture is so distant as to be virtually enfeebled into nothing. We cannot, even by the most vivid imagination, bring it home closely enough to make it real and effective on our plans. And, finally, the theological dogma of the destruction of the world professes to be an infallible certainty. The believer holds that he absolutely knows it by a revelation of supernatural authority. But with the scientist such a belief is held as merely a probability. A billion of centuries hence the world may perhaps come to an end; and, on the other hand, the phenomena which lead to such a belief may yet be explained as implying no such result. And these two issues, so far as our social or ideal experience is concerned, are virtually the same. A brilliant French writer has suggested that even if the natural course of evolution does of itself necessitate the final destruction of the world, yet our race, judging from the magnificent achievements of science and art already reached, may, within ten thousand centuries, which will be long before the foreseen end approaches, obtain such a knowledge and control of the forces of nature as to make collective humanity master of this planet, able to shape and guide its destinies, ward off every fatal crisis, and perfect and immortalize the system as now sustained. It is an audacious fancy. But like many other incredible conceptions which have forerun their own still more incredible fulfillment, the very thought electrifies us with hope and courage. And thus the conclusion in which we rest at the close of our investigation is the belief that the world is to last, and our race to flourish on it virtually forever. This conclusion is equally a relief from the frightful burdens of superstition, and a consolation for our own personal evanescence. The stable harmony of natural beauty and beneficence, amidst which we individually play our brief part and vanish, shall stand fast, blooming with fresh growths, and shining with fadeless light, and the successive generations of our dear fellow men shall grow ever wiser and happier, beyond the reach of our farthest vision into the future. And if we recognize in the great catastrophic myths and previsions of the poets and scientists the fundamental truth that the things which are seen are temporal, while the things alone which are unseen are eternal, the end being a regular and remote sequel in the creative plan of God, free from anger, retributive disappointment, or cruelty will not alarm us. For if souls are substantial entities, and not mere phenomenal processes, they will survive the universal crisis, and either at the lucid goals of their perfected destiny rejoice forever in a reflected individual fruition of the attributes of God, or else start refreshed on a new career with that redistribution of the cosmic matter and motion which in its gigantic and eternal rhythm of development and dissolution the ancient Hindu mind figured as the respiration of Brahm and which ambitious science now generalizes as the law of evolution. CHAPTER II. THE DAY OF JUDGMENT. JUDAISM so largely supplied the circumstantial and doctrinal germs out of which dogmatic Christianity grew, that we cannot thoroughly understand the Christian belief in a final day of judgment, unless we first notice the historic and literary derivation of that belief from Judaism, and then trace its development in the new conditions through which it passed. The personal character, teachings, life, and death of Jesus Christ, together with his subsequent resurrection and career in the consciousness of ecclesiastical Christendom, constituted the crystalizing centre which, dipped in the inherited solution of ideal and social materials furnished by the Church, has gathered around it the accretion of faith and dogma composing the theoretic Christianity of the present day. To follow this process with reference to the particular tenet before us, analyze it, discriminate the appropriate in it from the inappropriate, the true from the false, maybe difficult; but it is necessary for a satisfactory conclusion. To this task let us therefore now address ourselves, putting away all bias and prejudice, invoking in equal degree candor, fearlessness and charity. The Jews believed themselves to be a people chosen out of all the world as the exclusive favorites of God. By the covenant of Abraham, and the code of Moses, Jehovah had entered, as they thought, into a special contract with them to be their peculiar God, Guardian, and Ruler. In contrast with the depraved habits and idolatrous rites of the heathen nations, the Israelites were strictly to keep the moral law, and, at the same time, to pay a pure worship to Jehovah through the scrupulous observance of their ceremonial law. The bond of race and family descent from Abraham, the practice of circumcision, and the ceremonies of the Mosaic ritual, sealed them as accepted members of this divine covenant. So long as they were true to the duties involved in this relation, Jehovah would watch over them, defend them from their enemies, set them proudly above the alien Gentiles, and crown them with every spiritual and temporal blessing. The noblest representatives of the people believed this with unparalleled thoroughness and intensity. They looked down on the uncircumcised nations as wicked idolaters, destined to be their servants until they should be adopted into the same covenant by becoming proselytes to their faith. Jehovah was literally their direct, though invisible, King, Law giver, and Judge, palpably rewarding their fidelity by overt temporal blessings, punishing their dereliction by awful temporal calamities and sufferings. Every signal instance of his providential intervention in their affairs they called a Day of the Lord, a Coming of Jehovah, a Judgment from heaven. Thus the prophet Joel foretells the vengeance which God would take on Tyre and Sidon and Philistia, because they had assailed and scattered his people. "Behold the day of Jehovah cometh, the great and terrible day. And I will show wonders in the heavens and in the earth, blood and fire and pillars of smoke. The sun shall be turned into darkness, and the moon into blood. Then whosoever calleth on the name of Jehovah shall be delivered: for upon Mount Zion and in Jerusalem shall be deliverance. I will contend with the Gentiles for my people, and will bring back the captives. The multitudes, the multitudes in the valley of judgment: for the day of Jehovah is near in the valley of judgment." In a similar strain Isaiah prophesies against Edom: "Draw near, O ye nations, and hear! For the wrath of Jehovah is kindled against the nations, and he hath given up their armies to slaughter. The stench of their carcasses shall ascend, and the mountains shall melt with their blood. And all the hosts of heaven shall melt away; and all their host shall fall down, as the blighted fruit from the fig tree. For my sword shall rush drunk from heaven: behold, upon Edom shall it descend. For it is a day of vengeance from Jehovah. Her streams shall be turned into pitch, and her dust into brimstone, and her whole land shall become burning pitch. It shall lie waste forever, and none shall pass through it. The pelican and the hedgehog shall possess it; the heron and the raven shall dwell in it." Tremendous and appalling as this imagery is, it is obvious that the whole meaning of it is earthly and temporal, a local judgment of Jehovah in vindication of his people against the heathen. And kindred judgments are threatened against his own people when they lapse into wickedness and idolatry. "Thus saith the Lord, Behold, I will wipe Jerusalem as a man wipeth a dish, wiping it and turning it upside down." "Jehovah appeareth as a hostile witness, the Lord from his holy place. Behold, Jehovah cometh forth from his dwelling place, and advanceth on the high places of the earth. The mountains melt under him, and the valleys cleave asunder like wax before the fire. For the sin of the house of Israel is all this." Thus the earliest meaning of the phrase, Day of the Lord, or Day of Judgment, according to Biblical usage, was the occurrence of any severe calamity, either to the Jews, as a punishment for their apostasy; or to the Gentiles, as a punishment for their wickedness, or for their violent encroachment on the rights of the chosen people. These visitations of military disaster or political subjection, though purely local and temporal, are depicted in the most terrific images, such as flaming brimstone, falling stars, heaven and earth dissolving in darkness, blood, and fire. Ezekiel, alluding to the barbarous invasion headed by Prince Gog, represents Jehovah as declaring, "I will contend against him, and will rain fire and brimstone upon him and his hosts. Thus will I show myself in my greatness and glory before the eyes of many nations, and they shall know that I am Jehovah." The highly figurative character of this imagery must be apparent to every candid critic. For example, in the following passage from Zechariah, no one will suppose for a moment that it is meant that Jehovah will appear visibly in person and reign in Jerusalem, but only that his promise shall be fulfilled, and his law shall prevail there in the triumphant establishment of his chosen people: "Behold the day of Jehovah cometh, when I will gather all nations to battle against Jerusalem; and the city shall be taken. Then shall Jehovah go forth, and fight against those nations. And his feet shall stand in that day upon the Mount of Olives. And Jehovah shall be king over all the earth. And it shall be that whoso of all the families of the earth will not go up to Jerusalem to worship the King, Jehovah of hosts, upon them shall be no rain." When the prophets burst out in the lyric metaphors, "Jehovah will roar from Zion, and utter his voice from Jerusalem;" "Egypt shall be a waste and Edom a wilderness for their violence to the sons of Judah; but Jerusalem shall be inhabited forever, and Jehovah shall dwell upon Zion," the meaning is simply that "Jehovah will be a refuge to his people, a stronghold to the sons of Israel, and all people shall know that Jehovah is God." It would imply the grossest ignorance in any critic if he imagined that the Jews ever believed that Jehovah was visibly to come down and reign over them in person. They did however, believe that an awful token or the presence of Jehovah dwelt in the holy of holies of their temple. They also believed that every anointed ruler who governed them in justice and piety represented the authority of Jehovah. And as, in the long times of their natural captivity and oppression, their hopes sought refuge from the depressing present in bright visions of a glorious future, when some inspired deliverer should justify their faith by carrying the national power and happiness to the highest pitch, they naturally believed that the spirit and signet of the Lord would, in a special manner, rest on that Messianic hero. By the assimilative action of faith and imagination, this idea of a divinely accredited Messiah developed, and grew ever richer and more complete. It began simply with the expectation of a holy leader and ruler who should subdue the heathen and establish the favored people of Jehovah in peerless purity, power, and happiness in the land of Judea. Little by little the rewards of the righteous and the punishments of the wicked were extended beyond those living on the earth, and took in the dead. The prophet Ezekiel depicted the promised restoration of the Jews from their captivity at Babylon to Jerusalem under the poetic image of a revivification of a heap of dead bones. This metaphor slowly assumed the form of a literal dogma, which grew from its beginning as an exceptional belief in the resurrection of a chosen few, stated in the book of Daniel and the second book of Maccabees, to the belief in the universal resurrection of the dead, avowed by Paul as the common Pharisaic belief. The belief, too, in regard to the scene of the Messianic triumph, the penalties to be inflicted on the enemies of Jehovah, and the kind and number of those enemies, underwent the same process of development and growth. The world was conceived as a sort of three story house connected with passage ways; heaven above the firmament, the earth between, and a penal region below. The imagery of fire and brimstone associated in the Hebrew mind with Sodom and Gomorrah, and the fearful imagery of idolatory, filth, and flames in the detested valley of Hinnom where the refuse of Jerusalem was carried to be burned, had been transferred by the popular imagination to the subterranean place of departed souls. The story in the book of Genesis about the sons of God forming an alliance with the daughters of men, and begetting a wicked brood of giants, had been wrought into the belief in a race of fallen angels, foes of God and men, whose dwelling place was the upper air. Above these wicked spirits in high places, but below the heaven of Jehovah, was the paradise whither Enoch and Elijah were supposed to have been translated, and whence they would come again in the last days. The Jewish apocryphal book of Enoch which was written probably about a century and a half before the birth of Christ, and is explicitly quoted in the Epistle of Jude contains a minute account of the final judgment, including in its scope this whole scenery and all these agents, and closely anticipating both the doctrinal and verbal details of the same subject as recorded in the New Testament itself. There is not, with one exception, a single essential feature of the now current Christian belief, in regard to the day of judgment at the end of the world, which is not distinctly brought out in the same form in the book of Enoch, written certainly more than a hundred years before a line of the Gospels was composed. The exception referred to relates to the person of the Messiah. In the book of Enoch he is indeed called the Son of man, but is wrapt in mysterious obscurity, undefined and unnamed: in the Christian documents and faith he is, of course, identified with Jesus of Nazareth, and, at a later period, identified also with God. The growth of the Messianic personality in distinctness, prominence, importance, and completeness of associated grouping, is not only historically traceable, but was also perfectly natural. At first the prophecy of the triumphant re establishment of the Jews was conceived as the result of the favoring power of Jehovah, not in a personal manifestation, but providentially displayed. Thus Joel represents Jehovah as saying, in his promise to vindicate Jerusalem, "Let the heathen be wakened, and come up to the valley of Jehoshaphat; for there will I sit to judge all the heathen round about." It cannot be denied that this was purely metaphorical. But in all imagery of a kingdom, of war, of judgment, the idea of the king, the leader, the judge, would naturally be the strongest point of imaginative action, the center of crystalizing association around which congruous particulars would be drawn until the picture was complete. So it actually happened. Perhaps the most striking example of this is seen in the growth of the notion of the great Adversary who precedes and fights against the Messiah. The book of Daniel, written just after Antiochus Epiphanes had oppressed the Jews with such frightful cruelties and profaned their temple with such abominable desecrations, impersonated in him the whole head and front of the impious hostility which the promised deliverer would have to subdue in vindicating the rights and hopes of the chosen people. "The figure of Antiochus Epiphanes," Martineau has happily said, "placed in immediate antecedence and antithesis to that of the Messiah, as the predicted crisis moved forward, was carried with it, and spread its portentous shadow over the expected close." The writer of the book of Daniel looked for the immediate arising of some inspired hero and servant of Jehovah to overthrow this wicked despot, this persecuting monster, and avenge the oppressed Jews on their Gentile tyrants. When subsequent events postponed this expected sequel, the opposed parties in it, the Antichrist and the Christ, were thrown forward together in ever dilating proportions of gloom and brightness: the fierce countenanced king in Daniel becomes the Man of Sin in Paul and the Beast drunk with the blood of saints in the Apocalypse. And in the Rabbinical books of the Jews the belief in Antichrist, under the name of Armillus, is developed into a mass of mythological details, afterwards adopted quite in the gross by the Mohammedans. Terrible signs will precede the appearance of the Messiah, such as a dew of blood, the darkening of the sun, the destruction of the holy city, with the slaughter and dispersion of the Israelites, and the suffering of awful woes. The Messiah shall gather his people and rebuild and occupy Jerusalem. Armillus shall collect an army and besiege that city. But God shall say to Messiah, "Sit thou on my right hand," and to the Israelites, "Stand still, and see what God will work for you to day." Then God will pour down sulphur and fire from heaven, and consume Armillus and his hosts. Then the trumpet will sound, the tombs be opened, the ten tribes be led to Paradise to celebrate the marriage supper of the Messiah, the aliens be consigned to Gehenna, and the earth be renovated. As the doctrine of the functions of the Messiah, in this finished form, is not stated in the Old Testament, but was familiar in the Christian Church, it is commonly supposed to be exclusively a later Christian development from the Jewish germ. It did, however, exist in the Jewish mind, before the birth of Christ, in the mature form already set forth. It is found clearly laid down and drawn out in Jewish apocryphal books dated earlier than the Christian era. It is likewise explicitly and minutely detailed in the Talmud, where its subsequent adoption from the Christians must have been impossible to the bigoted scorn and hate of the Jews for the Christians; while the historic affiliation of Christianity on Judaism made the Christians avowedly adopt all the vital doctrines of the older creed. The gradual growth of the Christian doctrine of the connection of the Messiah with the final judgment, out of the previous Jewish and Rabbinical notions, by the hardening of metaphors into dogmas and the universalizing of local peculiarities, is confessedly an obscure process, in many of its particulars extremely difficult to trace. But that it did thus grow up, no impartial scholar, who has mastered what is now known on the subject, can doubt. A world of new knowledge and light has been thrown on this whole field during the last thirty five years by Gfrorer, Baur, Ewald, Hoffmann, Hilgenfeld, Dilmann, Ceriani, Volkmar, and other students of kindred power and spirit. Researches and discussions in this department are still pushed with the greatest zeal; and it is confidently believed that in a few years the views adopted in the present writing will be established beyond all cavil from any fair minded critic. Then all the steps will have been clearly defined in the development of that doctrine of the great Day of the Lord, which, beginning with a poetic picture of a Jewish overthrow of the Gentiles, through the inspiring power of Jehovah, before the walls of Jerusalem, ended with a literal belief in the setting up, by the Messiah, of a tribunal in the Valley of Jehoshaphat, the assemblage there of all the living and the dead for judgment, the installation of the immortalized righteous in Paradise, and the submerging of the wicked under the Vale of Hinnom in a rainstorm of blazing brimstone. And now what must we think in regard to the truth or falsehood of the outward, forensic, military, and ritual part of the doctrine of historic and literary development we have imperfectly followed. Is it not perfectly clear, that the growth of the doctrine in question has been but a natural action of the imagination on the materials furnished it; adding congruous particulars, one after another, until the view was complete, and therefore could extend no further? And is it not equally obvious, that it can lay no sort of claim to logical validity? The superstitious and arbitrary character of its intrinsic constituents, its irreconcilableness with science and philosophy, disprove, to all who dare honestly face the facts, every plea set up for it as an inspired revelation of truth. It is a mixture of poetry and speculation, credible enough in an early and uncritical age, but a hopeless stumbling block to the educated reason of the present day. Every one who brings a free intelligence to the subject will find it impossible not to recognize the same fanciful process of thought, the same poetic ingredients, here as in the schemes of those heathen religions whose principal portrayals we all regard as mythology. To argue that because earthly rulers, in their anger and power, send retributive armies against their rebellious subjects, to bring them to judgment, destroy their homes and cities, and lay waste their lands with fire and sword, therefore God, the supreme King, will do so by the whole world, is not to reason logically, but to poetize creatively. There can be no warrant for transferring the political and military relations between men and earthly sovereigns to the moral and spiritual relations between the human race and God, since the two sets of relations are wholly different. The relation of Creator and creature is immensely higher and wider than that of king and subject. He whose laws are everywhere incessantly self executing needs not to select and group and reserve his friends or foes for any climateric catastrophe. The common notion of a final judgment day the fanciful association of all the good together, on one side, to be saved; of all the bad together, on the other side, to be damned, applies to the divine government an imperfection belonging only to human governments. Surely every one must see, the moment the thought is stated, that this imaginative universalizing of the indignation of God, and carrying it to a climax, in the destruction of the world, is a mythological procedure utterly inapplicable to a Being who can know no anger, no caprice, no change, a Being whose will is universal truth, whose throne is immensity, whose robe is omnipresence. Original Christianity, internally regarded in its divine truth, was the pure moral law exemplified in the personal traits of Jesus Christ, and universalized by his ascent out of the flesh into that kingdom of heaven which knows not nationalities or ceremonies. But original Christianity, externally and historically regarded, in the belief of its first disciples, was simply Judaism, with the addition of the faith that the Messiah had actually come in the person of Jesus Christ. The first disciples vividly cherished the prevalent Pharisaic doctrine that the Messiah would glorify his people, vanquish the heathen, raise and judge the dead, change the face of the earth, and inaugurate a holy reign of Israel in joy and splendor. This the Messiah was to do. But they believed Jesus to be the Messiah. Yet, before doing these things, he had been put to death. Therefore, they argued, he must come again, to finish his uncompleted mission. Such was the derivation of the apostolic and ecclesiastical doctrine of the speedy second advent of Christ to judge the dead and the living, and to wind up the present scheme of things. The belief was inevitable under the circumstances. To have believed otherwise, they must have reconstructed the current idea of the Messiah, and have seen in him no political monarch with an outward realm, but purely a king of truth. For this they were not ready; though it seems as if, after the experience of eighteen hundred years, we ought by this time to be prepared to see that such was really the intention of Providence. It is a question of primary interest, whether Jesus himself, in assuming the Messiahship, regarded it personally as an exclusively spiritual office, or as a literally including these royal and judicial functions in a visible form. Jesus foretold, in the same imaginary used by the previous prophets, and familiar to the minds of his contemporaries, the speedy approach of frightful calamities, wars, rumor of wars, famine and slaughter, Jerusalem compassed with armies and destroyed. Then, he adds, the Son of man shall come in the clouds of heaven, with all his holy angels, and take possession of the scene, apportioning the destinies of the righteous and the wicked. The question is, whether this pictured reappearance, in such transcendent pomp and power, was meant by him as a literal prophecy, to be physically fulfilled in his own person; or as a moral horoscope of the destined fortunes of his religion, a figurative representation of the establishment and reign of his spiritual truth. The latter view seems to us to be the correct one. In the first place, this is what has actually taken place. In the growing recognition of his spirit and power, in the spread of his teachings and name, in the revolutionizing advancement of his kingdom among men, Jesus has come again and again. Jerusalem was destroyed by the Romans, as he foretold, amidst unspeakable tribulations, and the disciples of the new faith installed in domination over the world. He said the time was then at hand, even at the doors, that some of those standing by should not taste death until all these things came to pass. If his prophecy bore a moral sense, the sequel justified it; if it bore a physical sense, the sequel refuted and falsified it. For that generation passed away, fifty generations since have passed away, and yet there has been no literal second advent of Jesus in person to judge the dead and the living, and to destroy the world. The event proves that we must either give the words of Jesus a metaphorical interpretation or hold that he was in error. But, secondly, such an error would be incompatible with soundness of mind. For any man, even for him called by an apostle "the man Christ Jesus," to believe that after his death he should reappear, swooping down from heaven, convoyed by squadrons of angels, to collect all men from their graves, and replace the old creation with a new one, would imply a profound disturbance of reason, a monomaniacal fanaticism if not an actual insanity. It is such a pure piece of theatrics that no one deeply in unison with that spirit of truth which expresses the mind of God through the order of nature and providence could possibly believe it. Such a nature was preeminently that of Jesus. All his most characteristic utterances, such as: "blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God;" "who loves much shall be forgiven much;" reveal unsurpassed saneness and truth of perception. It is by much the most probable supposition, that Jesus employed in the deepest and purest moral sense alone those Messianic images and catastrophic prophecies which were indeed originally used as moral metaphors, but had been afterwards degraded into material dogmas. Still further, the literal belief commonly attributed to Jesus, in his own physical reappearance and reign, is not only incompatible with his supreme soundness of mind, it is also irreconcilable with his other explicit teachings. "My kingdom is not of this world." "Every one that is of the truth heareth my voice." He warns his disciples against the many false Christs who will appear, and says that "the kingdom of heaven cometh not with observation." "Say not, lo here! or lo there! for the kingdom of heaven is within you." "I am the truth, the way, and the life." "He that rejecteth me, I judge him not; the word that I have spoken, that shall judge him." "Whoever doeth the will of my Father in heaven, the same is my brother." In view of these and kindred utterances of the profoundest insight, irreconcilable with any gross mythological beliefs, we must hold to the purely spiritual character of the doctrine of Jesus concerning his personal offices, and think that all the speeches, if any such there be, which cannot be fairly explained in accordance with this view, have been refracted in their transmission through incompetent reporters, or even perhaps fictitiously ascribed to him from the faith of a later age. There is a grateful satisfaction in thus discharging, as we feel we are fairly entitled to do, from the authority of Jesus a burden too great even for his peerless name any longer to support. For, say what its advocates may, this gigantic melo drama of the second advent, this world wide mixture and display of martial and forensic elements before an audience of all mankind and amidst a convulsed and closing universe, is inherently incredible by any mind not grossly ignorant and undisciplined or drilled to the most slavish servility of traditional thought. Every one really educated in science and philosophy, and familiar with the physiological conditions and literary history of mythology in the other nations of the world, will plainly perceive the intrinsic fancifulness and falsity of the belief, at the same time that he easily accounts for its rise and prevalence. The same picture of the siege of Jerusalem by a league of idolatrous armies, and of the mighty coming of the Messiah, found in the New Testament, is drawn in the third book of the Sibylline Oracles, which was composed by a Jew two hundred years before one word of Matthew or Luke was written. Jesus took up this current and fitting imagery wherein to express the conflict of his religion with the world, and to predict its ultimate triumph. He identifies himself with the truths he has brought, with the regenerating energies he has inaugurated to combat and overcome the wickedness and despotism of the nations of men. Every advent of his universal principles to a wider conflict or a higher seat of authority, is a true coming of the Son of Man. The vices and crimes of men, the selfishness and tyranny of governments, accumulate impediments in the way of the free working of the will of God in human society. Therefore from period to period convulsive crises occur, shocks of progressive truth and liberty against the obstacles gathered in their way. Thus, not only the destruction of Jerusalem, but the destruction of Rome, the French Revolution, and all the terrible social crises in the advancing affairs of the world, write on the earth and the sky, in huge characters of blood, smoke and fire, the true meaning of the repeated coming of Christ. This is the only kind of judicial second advent he will ever make, and this will occur over and over in calamitous but helpful revolutions, until all removable evils are done away, all the laws of men made just and all the hearts of men pure. Then the spirit once manifested by Jesus in his lonely mission will be a universal presence on earth, and the genuine millennium prevail without end. It is necessary now, as preliminary to a clear exposition of the true Christian doctrine of judgment, to explain the cause and process of the dark perversion which the teachings of Christ himself have so unfortunately undergone in the Church. For this purpose we must again, for a moment, refer to the original connection of Christianity with Judaism. Judaism was composed of two parts: one an accidental form; the other, essential truth. The first was the ceremonial peculiarities of the Jewish race and history; the second was the absolute and eternal principles of morality and religion. These two parts the ritual law and moral law were closely joined in all the best representatives of the nation at all the best periods of its history. Yet there was a constant tendency to separate these. One party exalted the ritual element, another party the spiritual element; the priestly class and the vulgar populace the former; the prophets the men of poetic, fiery heart and genius the latter. Such men as Isaiah, Jeremiah, Ezekiel, always insisted on personal and national righteousness, purity, and devotion, as the one essential thing. But the natural tendency of the common multitude, and of every professional class, to an external routine of mechanised forms, manifested itself more and more in a party which made an overt covenant and ritualistic conformity the all important thing. This party reached its head in the sect of the Pharisees, who, at the time of Jesus, possessed the offices, and represented the dominant spirit and authority of the Jewish nation. The character of this sect of bigoted formalists, as indignantly described and denounced by Jesus, is too well known to need illustration. They subordinated and trivialized the weightier matters of justice, mercy, humility, and peace, but enthroned and glorified the regime of mint, anise, and cummin. What was the Jewish idea of salvation, or citizenship in the kingdom of God? What was the condition of acceptance in the Pharisaic church? It was heirship in the Jewish race, either by descent or adoption, with ceremonial blamelessness in belief and act. Do you belong to the chosen family of Abraham, and are you undefiled in relation to all the requirements of our code? Then you are one of the elect. Are you a Gentile, an idolatrous member of the uncircumcision, or a scorner of the Levitic and Rabbinical customs? Then you are unfit to enter beyond the outer precincts of the Temple; you are a hopeless alien from the kingdom of heaven. Thus the Jewish test of acceptance with God was national, external, formal, a local and temporal peculiarity. When Jesus arose and began to teach, his transcendent genius, working under the unparalleled inspiration of God, an unprecedented sensibility to divine truth in its utmost purity and freedom, expanded beyond all these shallow material accidents and bonds; and he propounded a perfectly moral and spiritual test of acceptance before God; namely, the possession of an intrinsically good character. He made nothing of the distinction between Jew and Gentile, declaring, "My father is able of these stones to raise up children unto Abraham." He affirmed the condition of admittance into the kingdom of God to be simply the doing of the will of God. When he saw the young lawyer who had kept the two commandments, loving God with all his soul, and his neighbor as himself, his heart yearned towards him in benediction. And, finally, in his sublime picture of the last judgment, he, in the most explicit and unmistakable manner, makes the one essential condition of rejection to be inhumanity of life, cruel selfishness of character; the one essential condition of acceptance, the spirit of love, the practical doing of good. He utters not a solitary syllable about immaculateness of ceremonial propriety or soundness of dogmatic belief. He only says, Inasmuch as ye have or have not visited the sick and the imprisoned, fed the hungry, and clothed the naked, ye shall be justified or condemned at the divine tribunal. This test of personal goodness or wickedness, benevolent or malignant conduct, proclaimed by Jesus, is the true standard, free from everything local and temporary, fitted for application to all nations and all ages. But no sooner had Christianity obtained a foothold on earth, multiplied its converts, and gained some outward sway, than its Judaizing disciples and promulgators, fastening on that which was easiest to comprehend and practise, that which was most impressive to the imagination, that which seemed most sharply to distinguish them from the unbelieving and unconforming world around, thrust far into the background this universal and eternal test of judgment set up by Jesus himself, and in place of it installed an exclusive test fashioned after a more developed and aggravated pattern of the very narrowest and worst elements in the Phariasaism which he expressly came to supersede. The Pharisaic condition of salvation was inheritance, by blood or adoption, in the Jewish race and Abrahamic covenant, together with exactitude of ceremonial observance. Everybody else was an unclean alien, an uncircumcised dog, an uncovenanted leper. In place of this test, the orthodox ecclesiastical party made their test dogmatic belief in the supernatural Messiahship of Jesus Christ, formal profession of allegiance to the official person of Jesus Christ. It is summed up in the formula, "Whoso believeth that Jesus is the Christ, is of God; whoso denieth this, is of the Devil." Exactly here is where Paul, the noble apostle to the Gentiles, broke with the Judaizing apostles, and taught a doctrine more fully developed in its historic sequence, but substantially in perfect unison with the free teachings and spirit of Jesus himself. With Paul the test of Christian salvation was the possession of the mind of Christ. "If any man have not the spirit of Christ, he is none of his;" "but as many as are led by the spirit of God are sons of God." "Neither circumcision availeth anything, nor uncircumcision; but a new creature," begotten in the image of Christ, availeth everything before God. "God rewardeth every man, the Jew and the Gentile, according to his works." With Paul, descent from Abraham was nothing, observance of the legal code was nothing: a just and pure character, full of self sacrificing love, evoked by faith in Christ, was the all in all. Jesus Christ was the head of a new race, the second Adam; and all disciples, who, through moral faith in him, were regenerated into his likeness and unto newness of living, were thereby adopted as sons of God and joint heirs with him. The Pauline formula of salvation, freely open to all the world, was, spiritual assimilation and reproduction of Christ in the disciple. But the Judaizing party bore a heavy preponderance in the early Church, and has succeeded unto this day in imposing on ecclesiastical Christendom its own test: namely, a sound dogmatic, belief in the supreme personal rank and office of Christ, as the only means of admission to the kingdom of heaven. The one peculiarity which most sharply and broadly contrasted the early Christians with the rest of the world was unquestionably their belief in the miraculous mission of Jesus, a belief growing deeper, higher, intenser, until it actually identified him with the omnipotent God. There was an inevitable tendency, it was a perfectly natural and necessary process, for them to make this point of contrast the central condition on which depended the possession of all the special privileges supposed to be promised to its disciples by the new religion. The result is well expressed by Polycarp in these words: "Whosoever confesses not that Christ is come in the flesh, is an Antichrist; and whosoever acknowledges not the martyrdom of the cross, is of the Devil; and whosoever says that there is no resurrection nor judgment, is the first born of Satan." This extract strikes the key note of the Orthodox Church all through Christendom from the second century to the present hour. In place of the true condition of salvation announced by Jesus, personal and practical goodness, it inaugurates the false ecclesiastic standard, soundness of dogmatic belief in relation to Jesus himself! Those who hold this are the elect, and shall stand in heaven with white robes and palms and a new song, while all the rest of the world apostate and detested enemies of God and his saints shall be trampled down in merciless slaughter, and flung into the pit whence the smoking signal of their torment shall ascend for ever and ever. It is a transformation of the bigoted scorn and hate of the covenanted Jew for his Gentile foes into the intensified horror of the Orthodox believer for the reprobate infidel. And it finally culminated in the following frightful picture which still lowers and blazes in the imagination of ecclesiastical Christendom as a veritable revelation of what is to take place at the end of the world: While the stars are falling, the firmament dissolving, the dead swarming from their graves, and the nations assembling, Christ will come in the clouds of heaven with a host of angels and sit in judgment on collected mankind. All who submissively believed in his Divinity, and have the seal of his blood on their foreheads, he will approve and accept; all others he will condemn and reject. No matter for the natural goodness and integrity of the unbeliever: his unbelief dooms him. No matter for the natural depravity and iniquity of the believer: his faith in the atoning sacrifice saves him. The Judge will say to the orthodox, on his right, "You may have been impure and cruel, lied, cheated, hated your neighbor, rolled in vice and crime, but you have believed in me, in my divinity: therefore, come, ye blessed, inherit my kingdom." To the heretical, on his left, he will say, "You may have been pure and kind, sought the truth, self sacrificingly served your fellow men, fulfilled every moral duty in your power, but you have not believed in me, in my deity, and my blood: therefore, depart, ye cursed, into everlasting fire." Such is a fit verdict to be pronounced by the avenging Warrior depicted in the Apocalypse, from whose mouth issues a two edged sword, to cut his enemies asunder; who sits on a white charger, in a vesture dipped in blood, with a bow and a crown, and goes forth conquering and to conquer; whose eyes are flames of fire; who treads his rejecters in the wine press of his wrath until their blood reaches to the horse bridles. It was the natural reflection of an age filled with the most murderous hatreds and persecutions, based on political and dogmatic distinctions. But how contradictory it is to the teachings of Jesus himself! How utterly irreconcilable it is with the image and spirit of that meek and lowly Son of Man who said that he "came not to destroy men's lives but to save them;" who declared, "of mine own self I can do nothing;" who modestly deprecated all personal homage, asking, "Why callest thou me good?" who sat with the publican, and forgave the harlot, and denounced bigotry in many an immortal breathing of charity; and who, even in his final agony, pardoned and prayed for his murderers! What reason is there for supposing that he who was so infinitely gentle, unselfish, forgiving, when on earth, will undergo such a fiendish metamorphosis in his exaltation and return? It is the most monstrous, the most atrocious travesty of the truth that ever was perpetrated by the superstitious ignorance and audacity of the human mind. It is a direct transference into the Godhead of the most egotistical and hateful feelings of a bad man. No good man who had been ever so grossly misconceived, vilified, and wronged, if he saw his enemies prostrate in submissive terror at his feet, perfectly powerless before his authority, could bear to trample on them and wreak vengeance on them. He would say, "Unhappy ones, fear not; you have misunderstood me; I will not injure you; if there be any favor which I can bestow on you, freely take it." And is it not an incredible blasphemy to deny to the deified Christ a magnanimity equal to that which any good man would exhibit? It is with pain and regret that the writer has penned the foregoing sentences, which, he supposes, some persons will read with the feeling that they are inexcusable misrepresentations, others, with a shocked and resentful horror, relieving itself in the cry, Infidelity! Blasphemy! The reply of the writer is simply that, while reluctant to wound the sensibility of any, he feels bound in conscience to make this exposition, because he believes it to be a true statement; and loyalty to truth is the first duty of every man. Truth is the will of God, obedience to which alone is sound morality, reverential love of which alone is pure piety. Frightful as is the picture drawn above of Christ in the judgment, it is impossible to deny, without utter stultification, that every lineament of it is logically implied in the formula. "There is no salvation for the man who unbelievingly rejects, no damnation for the man who believingly accepts, the official Christ and his blood." And what teacher will have the presumption to deny that just this has been, and still is, the central dogma in the faith of ecclesiastical Christendom? The legitimate result of this view, unflinchingly carried out, and applied to the precise point we now have in hand, is seen in that horrible portrayal of the Last Judgment wherewith Michael Angelo has covered the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel, in Rome. The great anatomical artist consistently depicts Christ as an almighty athlete, towering with vindictive wrath, flinging thunderbolts on the writhing and helpless wilderness of his victims. The popular conception of Christ in the judgment has been borrowed from the type of a king, who, hurling off the incognito in which he has been outraged, breaks out in his proper insignia, to sentence and trample his scorners. The true conception is to be fashioned after the type given in his own example during his life. So far as Christ is the representative of God, there must be no vanity or egotism in him. Every such quality ascribed to the Godhead is anthropomorphizing sophistry. However much more God may be, he is the General Mind of the Universe. He includes, while he transcends, all other beings. Now, the General Mind must represent the interests of all, the disinterested good of the whole, and not any particular and selfish exactions, or resentful caprices, fashioned on the pattern shown among human egotists by a kingly despot. The Church, in developing Christianity out of Judaism through the person and life of Jesus, has given prominence and emphasis to the wrong elements, seeking to universalize and perpetuate, in a transformed guise, the local spirit and historic errors of that Pharisaic sect against which he had himself launched all his invective. That temper of bigotry and ceremonial technicality which hates all outside of its own pale as reprobate, and which ultimated itself in the virtual Pharisaic formula, "Keep the hands and platter washed, and it is no matter how full of uncleanness you are within," at a later period embodied itself through the leaders of ecclesiastical Orthodoxy in the central dogma, "Nothing but faith in Christ can avail man anything before God." Instead of this the true doctrine is, Nothing but obedience, surrender, and trust, personal penitence and aspiration, can avail man anything before God. The Christians, as the Jews did before them, have made a wrong selection of the doctrine to be, on the one hand, particularized and left behind; on the other hand, carried forward and universalized. This immense error demands correction. Let us notice a few specimens in exemplication of it. Jehovah is not the only true God in distinction from odious idols; but Brahma, Ahura Mazda, Osiris, Zeus, Jupiter, and the rest, are names given by different nations to the Infinite Spirit whom each nation worships according to its own light. The Jews and the Christians are not the only chosen people of God; but all nations are his people, chosen in the degree of their harmony with his will. The providence of God is not an exceptional interference from without, exclusively for the Jews and Christians; but it is for all, a steady order of laws within, as much to be seen in the shining of the sun, or the regular harvest, as in any shocks of political calamity and glory. Not the Messiah alone reveals God; but, in his degree, every ruler, prophet, priest, every man who stands for wisdom, justice, purity, and devotion, represents him. It is not doctrinal belief in the Messiah, but vital adoption of his spirit and character, of the principles of real goodness, that constitutes the salvation of the disciple. We are to look not for the resurrection of the flesh from the grave, but for the resurrection of the soul from all forms of sin, ignorance, and misery. It is the universal prevalence of truth and virtue, knowledge, love, and peace, in the hearts of men, not the physical reign of the returning Messiah, which will make a millennium on earth. The kingdom of God which Judaism localized exclusively in Palestine, and the early church exclusively in heaven or on the millennial earth, should be recognized in every place, whether above the sky or on the globe, where duty is done, and pure affection, trust, and joy experienced; for God is not excluded from all other spaces by any enthronization in one. We ought not to cling, as to permanent fixtures of revealed truth, to the rigid outlines of that scheme of faith which was struck out when the three story house of the Hebrew cosmogony showed the limits of what men knew, before exact science was born, or criticism conceived, or the telescope invented, or America and Australia and the Germanic races heard of; but we should hold our speculative theological beliefs freely and provisionally, ready to reconstruct and read just them, from time to time, in accordance with the demands of the growing body of human knowledge. Reflecting, in the light of these general ideas of truth, on the whole subject of the current doctrine of the end of the world and the day of judgment, we shall see that that doctrine presents no valid claim for our belief, but is a mythological growth out of the historic and literary conditions amidst which Christianity arose on the basis of Judaism. The doctrine was formed by the unconscious transmutation of metaphors into dogmas. Poetic figures came, by dint of familiarizing repetition, by dint of imaginative collection and contemplation, to be taken as expressive of literal truths. To any reader of the Apocalypse, with competent historical and critical information for entering into the book from the point of view occupied by its author, it is just as evident that its imagery was meant to describe the immediate conflict of Hebrew Christianity with pagan Rome, and not the literal blotting out of the universe, as it is unquestionable that the book of Daniel depicts, not the impending destruction of the world, but the relations of the chosen nation with the hostile empires of Persia, Media, Babylon, and Macedonia, from which they had suffered so much, and which they then hoped speedily to put beneath their feet. The slain Lamb, standing amidst the throne of God, with seven eyes and seven horns; Death, on a pale horse, with Hell following him; the woman, clothed with the sun, and the moon under her feet; the great red dragon, whose tail casts to the earth the third part of the stars of heaven; the worm wood star, that falls as a blazing lamp, and turns a third of the waters of the earth into bitterness; the seven thunders, seven seals, seven vials, seven spirits before the throne, seven candlesticks, seven angels, seven trumpets, seven epistles to the seven churches, seven horns, seven headed beast, all these things must, perforce, be taken as free poetic imagery; it would require a lunatic or an utterly unthinking verbalist to interpret them literally. Why, then, shall we select from the mass of metaphors a few of the most violent, and insist on rendering these as veritable statements of fact? If the rest is symbolism, so are the pictures of the avenging armies of angels, the reeking gulf of sulphur, and the golden streets of the city. The entire scheme of thought, as it still stands in the mind of the Orthodox believer, is to be rejected as spurious, because it rests on a process of imaginative accumulation and transference which is absolutely illegitimate; namely, the association and universalizing of political and military images, which are then hardened from emblems into facts, and cast over upon the mutual relations of God and mankind. We ought to break open the metaphors, extract their significance, and throw the shells aside. But ignorant bibliolatary and ecclesiasticism insist on worshipping the shells, with no insight of their contents. There is one all important fact which should convince of their error those who hold the current view of a general judgment at the end of the world as having been revealed from God through Christ. We refer to the fact that the system of ideas in which a final resurrection and judgment of the dead are logical parts, existed in the Zoroastrian theology five or six centuries before the birth of Christ. It was adopted thence by the Jews, and afterwards adopted from the Jews by the Christians. If, therefore, this doctrine be a revelation from God, it was revealed by him to the Persians in a dark and credulous antiquity. In that case it is Zoroaster and not Christ to whom we are indebted for the central dogmas of our religion! No, these things are imagery, not essence, the human element of imaginative error with which the divine element of truth has been overlaid, and from whose darkening and corrupt company this is to be extricated. There are, in the New Testament, in addition to the relevant metaphors which we have already examined, several others of great impressiveness and importance. We must now explain these, separate the truths and errors popularly associated with them, and leave the subject with an exposition of the real method of the divine government and the true idea of the day of judgment, in contrast with the prevalent ecclesiastical perversions of them. The part played in theological speculation and popular religious belief by imagery borrowed from the scenery and methods of judicial tribunals, the procedures and enforcement of penal law, has not been less prominent and profound than the influence exerted by natural, political, and military metaphors. The power, the pomp, the elaborate spectacle, the mysterious formalities, the frightful penalties, the intense personal hopes and fears, associated with the trial of culprits in courts or before the head of a nation, must always have sunk so deeply into the minds of men as to be vividly present in imagination to be affixed as typical stamps on their theories concerning the judgments of God and the future world. This process is perhaps nowhere more distinctly shown than in the belief of the ancient Egyptians. Before the sarcophagus containing the mummy was ferried over the holy lake to be deposited in the tomb, the friends and relatives of the departed, and his enemies and accusers, if he had any, together with forty two assessors, each of whom had the oversight of a particular sin, assembled on the shore and sat in judgment. The deceased was put on his trial before them: and, if justified, awarded an honorable burial; if condemned, disgraced by the withholding of the funeral rites. Now the papyrus rolls found with the mummies give a description of the judgment of the dead, a picture of the fate of the disembodied soul in the Egyptian Hades, minutely agreeing in many particulars with the foregoing ceremony. Ma, the Goddess of Justice, leads the soul into the judgment hall, before the throne of Osiris, where stands a great balance with a symbol of truth in one scale, the symbol of a human heart in the other. The accuser is heard, and the deceased defends himself before forty two divine judges who preside over the forty two sins from which he must be cleared. The gods Horus and Anubis attend to the balance, and Thoth writes down the verdict and the sentence. The soul then passes on through adventures of penance or bliss, the details of which are obviously copied, with fanciful changes and additions, from the connected scenery and experience known on the earth. Taking it for all in all, there perhaps never was any other scene in human society so impressive as the periodical sitting in judgment of the great Oriental kings. It was the custom of those half deified rulers the King of Egypt, the Sultan of Persia, the Emperor of India, the Great Father of China to set up, each in the gate of his palace, a tribunal for the public and irreversible administration of justice. Seated on his throne, blazing in purple, gold, and gems, the members of the royal family nearest to his person; his chief officers and chosen favorites coming next in order; his body guards and various classes of servants, in distinctive costumes, ranged in their several posts; vast masses of troops, marshalled far and near. The whole assemblage must have composed a sight of august splendor and dread. Then appeared the accusers and the accused, criminals from their dungeons, captives taken in war, representatives of tributary nations, all who had complaints to offer, charges to repel, or offences to expiate. The monarch listened, weighed, decided, sentenced; and his executioners carried out his commands. Some were pardoned, some rewarded, some sent to the quarries, some to prison, some to death. When the tribunal was struck, and the king retired, and the scene ended, there was relief with one, joy with another, blood here, darkness there, weeping and wailing and gnashing of teeth in many a place. Dramatic scenes of judgment, public judicial procedures, in some degree corresponding with the foregoing picture, are necessary in human governments. The prison, the culprit, the witnesses, the judge, the verdict, the penalty, are inevitable facts of the social order. Offences needing to be punished by overt penalties, wrongs demanding to be rectified by outward decrees, criminals gathered in cells, appeals from lower courts to higher ones, may go on accumulating until a grand audit or universal clearing up of arrears becomes indispensable. Is it not obvious how natural it would be for a mind profoundly impressed with these facts, and vividly stamped with this imagery, to think of the relation between mankind and God in a similar way, conceiving of the Creator as the Infinite King and Judge, who will appoint a final day to set everything right, issue a general act of jail delivery, summon the living and the dead before him, and adjudicate their doom according to his sovereign pleasure? The tremendous language ascribed to Jesus, in the twenty fifth chapter of Matthew, was evidently based on the historic picture of an Eastern king in judgment. "When the Son of Man shall come in his glory, and all the holy angels with him, then shall he sit upon the throne of his glory: and before him shall be gathered all nations: and he shall separate them one from another, as a shepherd divideth his sheep from the goats: and he shall set the sheep on his right hand, but the goats on the left." If Jesus himself used these words, we suppose he meant figuratively to indicate by them the triumphant installation, as a ruling and judging power in human society, of the pure eternal principles of morality, the true universal principles of religion, which he had taught and exemplified. But unfortunately the image proved so overpoweringly impressive to the imagination of subsequent times, that its metaphorical import was lost in its physical setting. This momentous error has arisen from the inevitable tendency of the human mind to conceive of God after the type of an earthly king, as an enthroned local Presence; from the rooted incapacity of popular thought to grasp the idea that God is an equal and undivided Everywhereness. In his great speech on Mar's Hill, the apostle Paul told the Athenians that "God had appointed a day in the which he would judge the world in righteousness by that man whom he hath ordained." Is not this notion of the judgment being delegated to Jesus plainly adopted from the political image of a deputy? The king himself rarely sits on a judicial tribunal: he is generally represented there by an inferior officer. But this arrangement is totally inapplicable to God, who can never abdicate his prerogatives, since they are not legal, but dynamic. The essential nature of God is infinity. Certainly, there can be no substitution of this. It cannot be put off, nor put on, nor multiplied. There is one Infinite alone. The Greeks located, in the future state, three judges of the dead, Minos, who presided at the trial of souls arriving from Europe; Rhadamanthus, who examined those coming from Asia; and Aacus, who judged those from Africa. They had no fourth and fifth inspectors for the souls from America and Australia, because those divisions of the earth were, as yet, unknown! How suggestive is this mixture of knowledge and ignorance! The heaven of the Esquimaux is a place where they will have a plenty of fine boats and harpoons, and find a summer climate, and a calm ocean abounding with fat seals and walruses. The Greenlander's hell is a place of torment from cold; the Arab's, a place of torment from heat. Every people and every man unless they have learned by comparative criticism to correct the tendency conceive their destiny in the unknown future in forms and lights copied, more or less closely, from their familiar experiences here. Is there not just as much reason for holding to the literal accuracy and validity of the result in one case as in another? The popular picture, in the imagination of Christendom, of Gabriel playing a trumpet solo at the end of the world, and a huge squad of angelic police darting about the four quarters of heaven, gathering the past and present inhabitants of the earth, while the Judge and his officers take their places in the Universal Assize, instead of being received as sound theology, should be held as moral symbol. Taken in any other way, it sinks into gross mythology. Can any one fail to see that this picture of the Last Judgment is the result of an illogical process; namely, the poetic association and universalizing of our fragmentary judicial experiences, and the bodily transfer of them over upon our relations with God? The procedure is clearly a fallacious one, because the relations of men with God in the sphere of eternal truths are wholly different from their relations with each other in the sphere of political society. They are, in no sense, formal or forensic, but substantial and moral; not of the nature of a league or compact, but interior and organic; not acting by fits and starts, or gathering through interruptions and delays to convulsive catastrophes, but going on in unbreakable continuity. God is a Spirit; and we too, in essence, are spirits. The rewards and punishments imparted from God to us, then, are spiritual, results of the regular action of the laws of our being as related to all other being. Consequently, no figures borrowed from those judicial and police arrangements inevitable in the broken and hitching affairs of earthly rulers, can be directly applicable, the circumstances are so completely different. The true illustration of the divine government must be adopted from physiology and psychology, where the perfect working of the Creator is exemplified, not from the forum and the court, where the imperfect artifices of men are exhibited. God forever sits in judgment on all souls, in the reactions of their own acts. The divine retribution for every deed is the kick of the gun, not an extra explosion arbitrarily thrown in. The thief, the liar, the misanthrope, the drunkard, the poet, the philosopher, the hero, the saint, all have their just and intrinsic returns for what they are and for what they do, in the fitness of their own characters and their harmonies or discords with the will of God, with the public order of creation. Thus is the daily experience of one man made a lake of peace threaded with thrilling rivulets of bliss; that of another, a stream of devouring fire and poison, or a heaving and smoking bed of uncleanness and torment. The virtues represent the conditions of universal good; the vices represent private opposition to those conditions. Accordingly, the good man is in attracting and cooperative connection with all good; the bad man, in antagonistic and repulsive connection with it. In these facts a perfect retribution resides. If any one does not see it, does not feel its working, it is because he is too insensible to be conscious of the secrets of his own being, too dull to read the lessons of his own experience. And this self ignorant degradation, so far from refuting, is itself the profoundest exemplification of the truth of that wonderful word of Jesus: "Verily, I say unto you, they have their reward." Those who consider themselves saints indulge in an unspeakable vulgarity, when they feel, "Well, the sinners have their turn in this world; we shall have ours in the next." The law of retribution in the spiritual sphere is identical with the first law of motion in the material sphere; action and reaction are equal, and in opposite directions. This law being instantaneous and incessant in its operation, there can be no occasion for a final epoch to redress its accumulated disbalancements. It has no disbalancements, save in our erroneous or defective vision. The true conception of the relation of the all judging Creator to his creatures is that of the Infinite Being who supplies all finite receptacles in accordance with their special forms of organization and character, and who causes exact retributions of good and evil intrinsically to inhere in their indulged modes of thought and feeling and will, their own virtues and vices, fruitions and battlements. This internal, continuous, dynamic view worthily represents the perfection of the Divine government. The incomparably inferior view the external, intermittent, constabulary theory rests, as it seems to us, merely on the traditions of ignorance and fancy. It has, in every instance, originated from the unwarrantable interpretation of a trope as a truth. For example, the picture of the Last Judgment, supposed to be drawn by Jesus, in the Parable of the Tares, must be considered, not as a rigid prophecy of the end of the earth, and the transmundane destination of souls, but as a free emblem of the approaching close of the Jewish dispensation, and the terrible calamities which would then come on the proud, obstinate and rebellious people. The reaping angels are the Roman and Jewish armies, and other kindred agencies and collisions in the destined evolution of the fortunes of Christianity and mankind in the future. Taken literally, the symbols are incongruous with fact, and absolutely incredible in doctrine. For they are based on the image of a royal land owner, who draws his support from the income of his fields and subjects, and who rewards the faithful bringer of fruits, and punishes the slothful defaulter; who welcomes and stores sheaves, because they are wealth: rejects and burns tares, because they are an injury and a nuisance. But nothing can be riches or a nuisance to the infinite God, who neither lives on revenue nor judges by jerks. Men are not literally wheat, the property of the good sower, Christ; nor tares, the property of the bad sower, the Devil: they are souls, responsibly belonging to themselves, under God. And the pay of the human agriculturists, in the moral fields of the divine King, consists in the daily crops of experience they raise, not in being advanced to a seat at the right hand of their Lord, or in being flagellated and flung into a flaming furnace. Jesus himself, undoubtedly, used this physical imagery as the vehicle of spiritual truths; it is lamentable that perfunctory minds have so generally overlooked the substance in the dress. He is represented, in Matthew, as having said to his apostles: "When the Son of man shall sit on the throne of his glory, ye also shall sit upon twelve thrones, judging the twelve tribes of Israel." Now, that he used this figure to convey an impersonal moral meaning, and that his profound thought underwent a materializing degradation in the minds of his hearers and reporters, appears clearly from the incident related immediately afterward. The wife of Zebedee asked that her two sons might sit, the one on his right hand, and the other on the left, in his kingdom. And Jesus said, "Ye shall drink indeed of my cup, and be baptized with the baptism that I am baptized with: but to sit on my right hand, and on my left, is not mine to give." The imagery meant that the missionary assistants, in forwarding and spreading the kingdom of truth and love he came to establish, would be represented in common with himself in the power it would acquire and sway over the world. When his hearers interpreted the imagery in a physical sense, as indicating that he was hereafter to be a visible king, and that his favorites might expect to share in his authority, honor, and glory, he solemnly repudiated it. There is yet another and a wholly different style of imagery employed by Jesus to convey his instructions as to the judgment which is to separate the justified from the condemned. The consideration of this species of imagery would afford an independent proof, of a cogent character, that they strangely misapprehend the mind of Jesus who interpret the moral meaning of his parable in an outward and dramatic sense. The metaphors to which we now refer are of a domestic and convivial nature, based on some of the most impressive social customs of the Oriental nations. It was the habit of kings, governors, and other rich and powerful men, to give, on certain occasions, great banquets, to which the guests were invited by special favor. These feasts were celebrated with the utmost pomp and splendor, by night, in brilliantly illuminated apartments. The contrast of the blazing lights, the richly costumed guests, the music and talk, the honor and luxury within, set against the darkness, the silence, the envious poverty and misery without, must have deeply struck all who saw it, and would naturally secure rhetorical reflections in speech and literature. The Jews illustrated their idea of the Kingdom of God by the symbol of a table at which Abraham and Isaac and Jacob were banqueting, and would be joined by all their faithful countrymen. In his parable of the Supper, describing how a king, on occasion of the marriage of his son, made a feast and sent out generous invitations to it, Jesus works up this imagery still more elaborately. What did he really mean to teach by it? Is it not clearly apparent from the whole context that he intended it as an illustration of the fact that the Jews, to whom he first announced his gospel, and offered all its privileges, having rejected it, its blessings would be freely thrown open to the Gentiles, and that they would crowd in to occupy the place of joy and honor, which the chosen people of Jehovah had refused to accept? It is by a pure effect of fancy and doctrinal bias that the parable has been perverted into a description of the Last Judgment. The reference plainly indicates admission to or exclusion from the privileges of the new dispensation, a matter of personal experience in the heart of the disciple and in the society of the church on this earth. The wedding garment, without which no one can come to the royal table, is a holy, humble, and loving character. In consequence of his destitution of this, Judas, although seated at the table, with the most honored guests, in the very presence of his Lord, was proved to have no right there, and was thrust into the outer darkness. His bad spirit, his inability to appreciate and enjoy the pure truths of the kingdom, constituted his expulsion. That such was the idea in the mind of Jesus, something to be experienced personally and spiritually in the present, and not something to be shown collectively and materially at the end of the world, appears from the great number of different forms in which he reiterates his doctrine. Had he meant to teach literally that he was to come in person at the last day, and sit in judgment on all men, would he not have had a distinct conception of the method, and have always drawn one and the same consistent picture of it? But if he meant to teach that all who were fitted by their spirit, character and conduct to assimilate the living substance of his kingdom were thereby made members of it, while all others were, by their own intrinsic unfitness, excluded, then it was perfectly natural that his fertile mind would on a hundred different occasions convey this one truth in a hundred different figures of speech. That in which the images all differ is unessential: that in which they all agree must be the essential thought. Now the parables differ in the forms of judgment they picture. Therefore these forms are metaphoric dress. The parables agree in assigning a different fate to the righteous and the wicked. Therefore this difference is the vital truth. And Jesus nowhere makes righteousness consist in anything national, dogmatic, or ceremonial, but everywhere is something moral. The doctrine of an unfailing tribunal in the soul, the belief that we are all judged momentarily at the continuous bar of the truth reflected in our own conscience, is too deep, delicate, and elusive a view for the ignorance and hardness of some ages, and of some persons in every age. They cannot understand that the mind of man is itself a living table of the law and judgment seat of the Creator, by its positive and negative polarities, in sympathetic connection with the standards of good and evil, pronouncing the verdicts and executing the sentences deserved. They need to project the scheme of retribution into the startling shape of a trial in a formal court, and then to universalize it into an overwhelming world assize. The semi dramatic figment, no doubt, was an inevitable stage of thought, and has wrought powerfully for good in certain periods of history. But the pure truth must be as much better for all who can appreciate it, as it is more real and more pervasive. Since God, the indefeasible Creator, is a resistless power of justice and love in omnipresent relations with his creatures, the genuine day of judgment to each being must be the entire career of that being. In a lower degree, every day is a day of judgment; because all acts, in the spirit from which they spring and the end at which they aim, carry their own immediate retributions. If we could survey the whole, at once, from the Divine point of view, and comprehend the relation of the parts to the whole, undoubtedly we should perceive that the deserts and the receipts of each ephemeral existence are balanced between the rise and set of its sun. But death may, with most solemn emphasis, be regarded as the final day of judgment to each man, in this sense; that then the sum of his earthly life and deeds is sealed up and closed from all further alteration by him, passing into history as a collective cause or total unit of influence. As long as the creation rolls in space, and conscious beings live and die, that bequeathal will tell its good or evil tale of him. What sensitive spirit will not tremble at the thought of a judgment so unavoidable and so tremendous as this! The votaries of superstition are mistaken in supposing that the removal of their false beliefs will destroy or weaken the sanctions of duty among men. The removal of imaginary sanctions will but cause the true ones to appear more clearly and to work more effectively. The judgment of God then, we conclude, is no vengeful wreaking of arbitrary royal volitions; but it is the return of the laws of being on all deeds, actual or ideal. This is, in itself, perpetual and infallible: but it sometimes forces itself on our recognition in sudden shocks or crises caused by the gathering obstacles and opposition made to it by our ignorance, vice, and crime. Every other doctrine of the Divine judgment is either an error or a figurative statement of this one. In the latter case, the physical cover should be dissolved and thrown away, the moral nucleus laid bare and appropriated. But the popular mind of Christendom has unfortunately pursued the contrary course, first exaggerating and consolidating the metaphors, then putting their forms literally in the place of their meaning. The awful panorama of the last things, as painted in the Apocalypse, the sun becoming as sackcloth of hair, and the moon as blood; the blighted stars dropping; the unveiling of the great white throne, from before the face of whose occupant the frightened heaven and earth flee away; the standing up of the dead, both small and great, the opening of the books, and the judging of the dead out of the things written therein, this scenic array has, by its terrible vividness and power of fanciful plausibility, sunk so deeply into the imagination, and taken such a tenacious hold on the feelings of the Christian world, secured for itself so constant a contemplation and encrusted itself with such a mass of associations, that it has actually come to be regarded as a veritable revelation of the reality, and to act as such. And yet, surely, surely, no one who will stop to think on the subject, with conscious clearness, can believe that books are provided in heaven with the names of men in them and recording angels appointed to keep their accounts by double or by single entry, and that God will literally sit upon a vast white dais raised on the earth, and go through an overt judicial ceremony. On what principle is a part of the undivided apocalyptic portrayal rendered as emblem, the rest accepted as absolute verity? If the blood red warrior on his white horse followed by the shining cavalry of heaven, the horrible vials of wrath, the chimerical angels and beasts, the sky and globe converted into terror struck fugitives, the bridal city descending from God with its incredible walls and its impossible gates and its magic tree of life yielding twelve kinds of fruit, are imagery; then the lake of burning sulphur, and the resurrection trumpet, and the indictment of the dead before the dazzling throne, are imagery too. The reader smiles at the idea that the good Esquimau will sit in Leaven amidst boiling pots of walrus meat, while in hell the fish lines of the bad Esquimau will break, and his canoe be crushed by falling ice. But what better reason can the civilized man give for the reflecting over upon the judgments of the future his present experience in the imagery of criminal courts? The same process of thought is exemplified in both cases. Can any one literally credit the following verses: "There are two angels that attend, unseen Each one of us, and in great books record Our good and evil deeds. He who writes down The good ones after every action closes His volume and ascends to God. The other keeps his dreadful day book open Till sunset, that we may repent, which doing, The record of the action fades away, And leaves a line of white across the page." No more should we literally credit the kindred phraseology in the New Testament. It is free metaphor. The sultan may keep in his treasury a book with the names of all his favorites enrolled in it. Is it not a peurility to suppose that God has such documents? When the Gospels and the Epistles of the New Testament were written, the reappearance of Christ for the last judgment was almost universally supposed by the Church to be just at hand. At any instant of day or night the signal blast might be blown, the troops of the sky pour down the swarms of the dead surge up, and the sheep and the goats for ever be parted to the right and left. Each day when they saw "the sun write its irrevocable verdict in the flame of the west," the believers felt that the supreme Dies iroe was so much nearer to its dawn. But as generation after generation died, without the sight, and the tokens of its approach seemed no clearer, the belief itself subsided from its early prominence into the background. But as it retreated, and became more obscure and vague in its date and other details, it grew ever more sombre, appalling, and stupendous in its general certainty and preternatural accompaniments. When the tenth century drew nigh its close, a literal acceptance of the scriptural text that "the dragon, that old serpent, which is the Devil and Satan, after being bound in the bottomless pit for a thousand years," should "be loosed a little season," filled Christendom with the most intense agitation and alarm. From all the literature and history of that period the reverberations of the frightful effects of the general expectation of the impending judgment and destruction of the world have rolled down to the present time. The portentous season passed, all things continuing as they were, and the immense incubus rose and dissolvingly vanished. And the Mediaval Church, like the Apostolic Church before, instead of logically saying: Our expectation of the physical return of Christ was a delusion, fancifully concluded: We were wrong as to the date; and still continued to expect him. The longer the crisis was delayed, and the more it was brooded over, the more awful the suppositious picture became. The Mohammedans held that the end would be announced by three blasts: the blast of consternation, so terrible that mothers will neglect the babes on their breasts, and the solid world will melt; the blast of disembodiment, which will annihilate everything but heaven and hell and their inhabitants; and the blast of resurrection, which will call up brutes, men, genii, and angels, in such numbers that their trial will occupy the space of thousands of years. But in the later imagination of Christendom the vision assumed a shape even more fearful than this. The Protestant Reformation, when one party identified the Pope, the other, Luther, with Antichrist, gave a new impulse to the common expectation of the avenging advent of the Lord. The horrible cruelties inflicted on each other by the hostile divisions of the Church aggravated the fears and animosities reflected in the sequel at the last day. Probably nothing was ever seen in this world more execrable or more dreadful than those great ceremonies celebrated in Spain and Portugal, in the seventeenth century, at the execution of heretics condemned to death by the Inquisition. The slow, dismal tolling of bells; the masked and muffled familiars; the Dominicans carrying their horrid flag, followed by the penitents behind a huge cross; the condemned ones, barefoot, clad in painted caps and the repulsive sanbenito; next the effigies of accused offenders who had escaped by flight; then, the bones of dead culprits in black coffins painted with flames and other hellish symbols; and, finally, the train closing with a host of priests and monks. The procession tediously winds to the great square in front of the cathedral, where the accused stand before a crucifix with extinguished torches in their hands. The king, with all his court and the whole population of the city, exalt the solemnity by their presence. The flames are kindled, and the poor victims perish in long drawn agonies. Now can anything conceivable give one a more vivid idea of the terrors embodied in the day of judgment than the fact that it came to be thought of under the terrific image of an Auto da Fe magnified to the scale of the human race and the earth, Christ, the Grand Inquisitor, seated as judge; his familiars standing by ready with their implements of torture to fulfil his bidding; his fellow monks enthroned around him; his sign, the crucifix, towering from hell to heaven in sight of the universe; the whole heretical world, dressed in the sanbenito, helpless before him, awaiting their doom? Who will not shudder at the inexorable horrors of such a scheme of doctrine, and devoutly thank God that he knows it to be a fiction as baseless as it is cruel? Since the cooling down of the great Anabaptist fanaticism, the millennarian fever has raged less and less extensively. But if the literature it has produced, in ignorant and declamatory books, sermons, and tracts, were heaped together, they would make a pile as big as one of the pyramids. The preaching of Miller, about a quarter of a century ago, with his definite assignment of the time for the appointed consummation, caused quite a violent panic in the United States. Several prophets of a similar order in Germany have also stirred transient commotions. In England, the celebrated London preacher, Dr. Cumming, whose works entitled "The End," and "The Great Tribulation," have been circulated in tens of thousands of copies, is now the most prominent representative of this catastrophic belief. He has, however, made himself so ridiculous by his repeated postponements of the crisis, that he has become more an object of laughter than of admiration. Mathematical calculations, based on mystic numbers transmitted in apocalyptic poetry, are at a heavy discount. And yet there is a considerable sect, called the Second Adventists, composed of the most illiterate believers, and swelled by clergymen wrought up to the fanatic pitch by an exclusive dogmatic drill, who lead an eleemosynary life on mouldy scraps of Scripture, and anxiously wait for the sound of the archangelic trump. Every earthquake, pestilence, revolution, violent thunderstorm, comet, meteoric shower, or extraordinary gleaming of the aurora borealis, startles them as a possible avant courier of the crack of doom. Some of them are said to keep their white robes in their closets all ready for ascension. What a dismal thing it must be to live in such a lurid and lugubrious dream; their best hope for the world the hope that its end is at hand, "Impatient of the stars that keep their course And make no pathway for the coming Judge!" But this excited and uneasy anticipation is now a rare exception. In the minds of most intelligent Christians, even of those who still cling to the old Orthodox dogmas, the day of judgment has been put forward as far as the day of creation has been put backward. Less and less do religious believers shudder before the theatric trials depicted in heathen and Christian mythology; more and more do they reverently recognize the intrinsic jurisdiction in the structure of the soul, and in the organism of society. The time is not far remote, let us trust, when the ancient spirit of national separation, political antipathy, and sectarian hatred, whose subjects identify themselves with the party of God, all others with the party of the Devil, and cry, "How long, O Lord, dost thou not judge and avenge us on our enemies," will give way to that better spirit of philanthropy and true piety, which sees brethren in all men, and prays to the common Father for the equal salvation and blessedness of all. Then the faith of the self righteous, who plume themselves on their sound creed, and so relentlessly consign the heretics to perdition, gloating over the idea of the time "when the kings of the earth, and the chief captains, and the rich men, and the mighty men, and every bondman, and every freeman, shall hide themselves in dens and caves, saying to the mountains and the rocks, Fall on us, and hide us from the face of him that sitteth on the throne, and from the wrath of the Lamb; for the great day of his wrath is come, and who shall be able to stand?" then the temper of this faith will be seen to be as wicked as its doctrine is erroneous. It will be recognized as a remnant of the barbaric past in steep contradiction with the whole mind of the modest and loving Jesus, who, when the disciples wished to call down fire from heaven to consume his opponents, rebuked them in words still condemning all their imitators, "Ye know not what spirit ye are of." Many a bigoted and complacent dogmatist, wrapt in that same ignorance to day, fails to read his own heart, and obstinately shuts his eyes to the truth, foolishly fancying himself better and safer, on account of his blind conservatism, than he who fearlessly seeks the guidance of science. Yet are not the principles of science as much glimpses of the mind of God as any sentences in the Bible are? The whole ecclesiastical scheme of eschatology is a delusion. No such gigantic melodrama, no such grotesque and horrible extravaganza, will ever get itself enacted between heaven and earth. Forever, as freshly as on the first morning, the Creator pours his will through his works in irresistible vibrations of goodness and justice; and forever may all his creatures come to him unimpeded, and trust in him without limit. Away, then, monstrous horrors, bred in the night of the past! Dreadful incubi! too cruelly and too long ye have sat on the breast of man. The cockcrow of reason has been heard, and it is time ye were gone. Fade, terrible dream, painted by superstition on the cope of the sky, picture of contending fiends and angels, fiery rain, a frowning God, and shuddering millions of victims! Away forever, and leave the blue space free for the benignant mysteries of the unknown eternity to lure us blessedly forward to our fate. Come, believers in the merciful God of truth, lend your aid to the glorious work of spiritual emancipation. In this benign battle for the deliverance of the world from error and fear, every free mind should be a champion, every loving heart a volunteer. Free leaders of the free, forward! out of the darkness into the light. Lift your banner in the front of the field of opinions where all may see it, and then follow it as far as truth itself shall lead. On! Progress is the eternal rule. Man was made to outgrow the old and struggle into the new, as every morning the sun mounts afresh out of the dead day, and drives the night before him. Ignorance and despotism have crushed us long. But now, now we fling our fetters off, and, marching from good to better, hope to escape from every falsehood, and to conquer every wrong, under the inspiration of the omnipresent Judge who executes his decrees in the very working itself of that Universal Order whose progressive unfolding will be fulfilled at last, not in any magic resurrection and assize, but in the simple lifting of the veil of ignorance from all souls brought into full community, and the illumination before their opened faculties of the whole contents of history. For we believe that all history is by its own enactment indestructibly registered in the theatre of space, and that every consciousness is educating to read it and adore the perfect justification of the ways of God. The eternal immensity of the universe is the true Aula Regis in which God holds perpetual session, overlooking no suppliant, omitting no case. CHAPTER III. THE MYTHOLOGICAL HELL AND THE TRUE ONE, OR THE LAW OF PERDITION. THE doctrine that there is a material place of torment destined to be the eternal abode of the wicked after death is based on the language of the Bible, supported by the aggregate teachings of the church, and commonly asserted, though with a stricken and failing faith, throughout Christendom at this moment. When any one tries to show the unreasonableness of the belief in this local prison house of the damned, arrayed with the innumerable horrors of physical anguish, he is at once met with the declaration that God himself has declared the fact, and consequently that we are bound to accept it without question, as a truth of revelation. For the reasons which we will immediately proceed to give, this representation must be rejected as a mistake. The popular doctrine of hell is not a divine revelation, but is a mythological growth. It is a fanciful mass of grotesque and frightful errors enveloping a truth which needs to be separated from them and exhibited in its purity. In the first place, the substance of the doctrine affirmed, the notion of a bottomless pit, or penal territory of fire and torment in which God will confine all the unredeemed portions of the human race after their bodily dissolution, is something wholly apart from morality and religion, something belonging to the two departments of descriptive geography and police history. The existence or nonexistence of a place of material torment reserved for the wicked, is a question not of theology, but of topography. In earlier times it was avowedly included in geography; and numerous caves, lakes, volcanos, as at Lebadeia, Derbyshire, Avernus, Nafita, Etna, and elsewhere were believed to be literally entrances to hell. So famous and eminent a man as Saint Gregory the Great, when the great Sicilian volcano was seen to be increasingly agitated, taught that it was owing to the press of lost souls, rendering it necessary to enlarge the approach to their prison. With the increase of knowledge, the localization of hell was subsequently by many authors, made a part of cosmography, and shifted about among the comets, the moon and the sun, although most people still think that it is the interior of the earth. But, the best theologians of all denominations, the most authoritative thinkers of all schools, now hold that the supernatural revelations of God are limited to the sphere of the spirit, and do not include the data of geology, astronomy, chemistry and mathematics. God is not a local king, ruling his subjects by means of political machinery and external interferences; he is the omnipresent Creator, spiritually sustaining and governing his creatures from within by means of the laws which determine their experience, the action and reaction between their faculties and their surrounding conditions. Accordingly, the sphere of direct revelations from the spirit of God to the spirit of man is limited to the implications in the divine logic of the soul and its life, that is, to moral and religious truths. The facts of history and cosmology are left for the processes of natural discovery. Whether there be or be not a localized hell of material tortures lies not within the domain of revelation, but is a problem of physical science. And science demonstrates, from the weight of the globe, that it is solid; and not, according to the current belief, a hollow shell containing a sea of flame packed with the floating hosts of the lost. Furthermore, the only mode in which the truth of such a doctrine could be made known is wholly aside from the method of supernatural revelation. God does not utter his thoughts to his chosen messengers in words or other outward signs as a man does. Men communicate information to one another by voice, gesture, drawing, writing or other mechanical devices. It is the natural mistake of a crude age to suppose that God does the same, breathing verbal formularies into the of minds of his selected servants. But this is not the case. Revelation is not to receive an announcement; it is to perceive a truth. Since God is infinite, we cannot stand out against him and talk with him. Souls in finer and fuller harmony with the works and laws of God, thus fulfilling the human conditions of inspiration, are met by the divine conditions, and obtain new insight of the ways and designs of God. They experience purer and richer ideas and emotions than others, and may afterwards impart them to others, thus transmitting the revelation to them. For this new enlightenment, sanctification, or rise of life, is what alone constitutes a true revelation. Now if there be a local and physical hell, it is not a moral truth which the inspired soul can see, but a scientific fact which can be perceived only by the senses or deduced by the logical intellect. If a man could travel to every nook of the creation he might discover whether there were such a hell or not. But you cannot discover a spiritual truth by any amount of outward travel. When a soul is so delivered from egotism, or the jar of self will against universal law, and brought into such high harmony with the spirit of the whole, as to perceive this divine law of life, "He who dwelleth in love dwelleth in God, and God in him," then he is inspired to see a religious truth. He has obtained a divine revelation. But we cannot conceive of any degree of exaltation into unison with God which would enable a man to see the fact that the centre of the earth or the surface of the sun or any other spot, is a place of fire set apart as the penal abode of the damned, and that it is crowded with burning sulphur and unimaginable forms of wickedness and agony. Such a doctrine is out of the province, and its conveyance irreconcilable with the method of revelation, which consists not in an exterior communication of scientific facts to messengers selected to receive them, but in an interior unveiling of religious truths to souls prepared to see them. In the next place, we maintain, that the doctrine of a local hell, a guarded and smoking dungeon of the damned, ought not to be regarded as a truth contained in a revelation from God, because it is plainly proved by historic evidence to be a part of the mythology of the world, a natural product of the poetic imagination of ignorant and superstitious men. In all ages and lands men have recognized the difference between the good and the bad, merit and crime; have seen that innocence and virtue represented the permanent conditions of human welfare, that guilt and vice represented the insurrection of private or lower and transient desire against public or higher and more lasting good; and have felt that the former deserved to be praised and rewarded, the latter to be blamed and punished. In all ages and all nations society has teemed with devices for the distribution of these returns, prizes to the meritorious, penalties to the derelict. There is scarcely any evil discoverable in nature or inventable in art which has not been used as a means for the punishment of criminals. Enemies captured in battle, or seized by the minions of despots, violators of the laws of the community, arraigned before judicial tribunals, have been in every country subjected to every species of penalty, such as slavery, imprisonment, banishment, fine, stripes, dismemberment. They have been starved, frozen, burned, hung, drowned, strangled by serpents, devoured by wild beasts. The rebellious and hated offenders of the king, while he banquets in his illuminated palace with his faithful servants and favorites around him, are exiled into outer darkness, fettered in dungeons, plied with every conceivable indignity and misery, bastinadoed, bowstrung, or torn in pieces with lingering torture. Here we have the germ of hell. To get the fully developed popular doctrine of hell it is only necessary to concentrate and aggravate the known evils of this world, the horrible sufferings inflicted on criminals and enemies here, and transfer the vindictive and pitiable mass of wretchedness over into the future state as a representation of the doom God has there prepared for his foes. Earthly rulers and their practice, the most impressive scenes and acts experienced among men, have always hitherto furnished the types of thought applied to illustrate the unknown details of the hereafter. The judge orders the culprit to be disgraced, scourged, put in the stocks, or cropped and transported. The sultan hurls those he hates into the dungeon, upon the gibbet or into the flame, with every accompaniment of mockery and pain. So, an imaginative instinct concludes, God will deal with all who offend him. They will be excluded from his presence, imprisoned and tormented forever. This whole process of comparison and inference, natural as it is, is one prolonged fallacy exemplifying the very essence of all mythological construction in contrast both with inspired perception and logical reasoning. The revealing arrival of a truth in consciousness is when an intuitive thrill announces the action of our faculties in correspondence with some relation in the reality of things. Mythology is the deceptive substitute for this, employed when we arbitrarily project forms of our present experience into the unknown futurity, and then hold the resultant fancies as a rigid belief, or regard them as actual knowledge. This is exactly what has happened in the case of the doctrine of an eternal physical hell beyond the grave. The natural and punitive horrors of the present state have been collected, intensified, dilated, and thrown into the future as a world of unmitigated sin and wrath and anguish, a consolidated image of the vengeance of God on his insurgent subjects. Now the true desideratum, the only result on which reason can rest, whenever tests are applied to our beliefs, is this: that what is known be scientifically set forth in distinct definitions; that what is unknown be treated provisionally, with theoretic approaches; and that what is absolutely unknowable be fixedly recognized as such. This regulative principle of thought is grossly violated in every particular by the popular belief in a material hell. Wherever we look at the prevalent doctrines of hell among different peoples, from the rudest to the most refined, we see them reflecting into the penal arrangements of the other world the leading features of their earthly experience of natural, domestic, judicial, and political evils. The hells of the inhabitants of the frigid zones are icy and rocky; those of the inhabitants of the torrid zones are fiery and sandy. Are not the poetic process and its sophistry clear? Nastrond, the hell of the Northmen, is a vast, hideous and grisly dwelling, its walls built of adders whose heads, turned inward, continually spew poison which forms a lake of venom wherein all thieves, cowards, traitors, perjurers and murderers, eternally swim. Is this revelation, science, logic, or is it mythology? The Egyptian priests taught, and the people seemed to have implicitly trusted the tale, that there was a long series of hells awaiting the disembodied souls of all who had not scrupulously observed the ritual prescribed for them, and secured the pass words and magical formulas necessary for the safe completion of the post mortal journey. The specifications and pictures of the terrors and distresses provided in the various hells are vivid in the extreme, including ingenious paraphrases of every sort of penalty and pang known in Egypt. The same thing may be affirmed with quadruple emphasis of the Hindu doctrine of future punishment. In the Hindu hells, truly, the possibilities of horror are exhausted. To enumerate their sufferings in anything like their own detail would require a large volume. The Vishnu Parana names twenty eight distinct hells, assigning each one to a particular class of sinners; and it adds that there are hundreds of others, in which the various classes of offenders undergo the penalties of their misdeeds. There are separate hells for thieves, for liars, for those who kill a cow, for those who drink wine, for those who insult a priest, and so on. Some of the victims are chained to posts of red hot steel and lashed with flexible flames: others are forced to devour the most horrible filth. Some are mangled and eaten by ravenous birds, others are squeezed into chests of fire and locked up for millions of years. These examples may serve as a small specimen of the infernal ingenuity displayed in the descriptions of the Hindu hells, which are all of one substantial pattern, however varied in the embroidery. The Parsees hold that when a bad man dies his soul remains by the body three days and nights, seeing all the sins it has ever committed, and anxiously crying, "Whither shall I go? Who will save me?" On the fourth day devils come and thrust the bad soul into fetters and lead it to the bridge that reaches from earth to heaven. The warder of the bridge weighs the deeds of the wicked soul in his balance, and condemns it. The devils then fling the soul down and beat it cruelly. It shrieks and groans, struggles, and calls for help; but all in vain. It is forced on toward hell, when it is suddenly met by a hideous and hateful maiden. It demands, "Who art thou, O, maiden, uglier and more detestable than I ever saw in the world?" She replies, "I am no maiden; I am thine own wicked deeds, O, thou hateful unbeliever furnished with bad thoughts and words." After further disagreeable adventures, the soul is plunged into the abode of the devil, where the darkness and foul odor are so thick that they can be grasped. Fed with horrid viands, such as snakes, scorpions, poison, there the wicked soul must remain until the day of resurrection. Now, no enlightened Christian scholar or thinker will hesitate with one stroke to brush away all the details of these pagan descriptions of hell, as so much mythological rubbish, leaving nothing of them but the bare truth that there is a retribution for the guilty soul in the future as in the present. But, in the ecclesiastical doctrine of hell, prevalent in Christendom, we see the full equivalents of the baseless fancies and superstitions incorporated in these other doctrines. If the mythological hells of the heathen nations are not a revelation from God, neither is that of the Christians; for they are fundamentally alike, all illustrating the same fallacy of the imaginative association of things known, and the transference of them to things unknown. Not a single argument can the Christian urge in behalf of his local hell which the Scandinavian, the Egyptian, the Hindu or the Persian, would not urge in behalf of his. We can actually trace the historic development of the orthodox belief in a material hell from its simple beginning to its subsequent monstrousness of detail. The Hebrew Sheol or underworld, the common abode of the dead, is depicted in the Old Testament as a vast, slumberous, shadowy, subterranean realm, gloomy and silent. It grew out of the grave in this manner. The dead man was buried in the ground. The imagination of the survivors followed him there and brooded on the idea of him there. The image of him survived in their minds, as a free presence existing and moving wherever their conscious thought located him. The grave expanded for him, and one grave opened into another adjoining one, and shade was added to shade in the cavernous space thus provided; just as the sepulchres were associated in the burial place, and as the family of the dead were associated in the recollection of the remaining members. Thus Sheol was an imaginative dilatation of the grave. But it was dark and still; an obscure region of painless rest and peace. How came the notions of punishment, fire, brimstone, and kindred imagery, to be connected with it? We might safely say in general that these ideas were joined with the supposed world of the dead, by the Hebrews, in the same way that a similar result has been reached by almost every other civilized nation, that is, by a reflection into the future state of the retributive terrors experienced here. Since the sharpest torture known to us in this world is that inflicted by fire, it is perfectly natural that men, in imagining the punishments to be inflicted on his victims in the next world by one who has at his command all possible modes of pain, should think of the application of fire there. But happily, we are not left to this possible conjecture. Few influences sank more deeply into the Hebrew mind then the legend how the earth opened her mouth and swallowed into Sheol, Korah and Dathan and Abiram, the rebels against the authority of Moses, at the same time that fire fell from Jehovah and consumed two hundred and fifty of their confederates. In this story, rebellion against a prophet of God, fire and submersion in Sheol, are fused into one thought as a type of the future punishment of the wicked. But another narrative has been of far greater importance in this direction, namely, the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah. The Cities of the Plain were situated on a sulphur freighted and volcanic soil. They were inhabited by a people specially abandoned to vices, and specially odious to the chosen people of God. When a terrible eruption took place, overwhelming those cities with all their people, and swallowing them under a flood of bituminous flame, ashes and gas, it was natural that the Hebrews in after time should say that Jehovah had rained fire and brimstone from heaven on his enemies, and then that the history should take form in their proud and pious imaginations as a fixed type of the doom of the wicked. So it did. At a later period the scenes and events in Gehenna, or the Valley of Hinnom in the outskirts of Jerusalem, confirmed this tendency and completed the Jewish picture of hell. In this detested vale the worship of Moloch was once celebrated by roasting children alive in the brazen arms of the god, in whose hollow form a fierce fire was kept up, and around whose shrine gongs were beaten and hymns howled to drown the shrieks of the victims. Here all the refuse and offal of the city was carried and consumed, in a conflagration whose fire was never quenched, and amidst an uncleanness whose worms never died. This imagery, too, was cast over into the future state as a representation of the fate awaiting the wicked. Still further, it was the custom of some Oriental kings to have criminals of an especially revolting character, or the objects of their own particular hatred, flung into a furnace of fire, and there burned alive before the eyes of their judges. The example of this given in the Book of Daniel, where Nebuchadnezzar had the furnace heated seven times hotter than was wont, and ordered Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego cast into it, furnished both the Jews and the Christians with another type of the punishment of hell. So striking an image could hardly fail to take effect, and to be often reproduced. It occurs repeatedly in the New Testament. The old dragon, the devil, as the Apocalypse says, is to be chained and cast into a furnace of fire. In the writings of the Church fathers, and in the visions of the monks of the Middle Age, this image constantly occupies a conspicuous place. And thus, finally, the common notion of hell became an underground world of burning brimstone, an enormous furnace or lake of fire, full of fiends and shrieking souls. Tundale, an Irish monk of the Twelfth century, describes the devil in the midst of hell, fastened to a blazing gridiron by red hot chains, The screams echo from the rafters, but with his hands he seizes lost souls, crushes them like grapes between his teeth, and with his breath draws them down the fiery caverns of his throat. Some of the damned the chronicler describes as suspended by their tongues, some sawn asunder, some alternately plunged into caldrons of fire and baths of ice, some gnawed by serpents, some beaten on an anvil and welded into one mass, some boiled and strained through a cloth. The defenders of the orthodox doctrine of hell will admit that this terrible picture is mere mythology; but they will say it is the product of a benighted age, and long since outgrown. Yet it is no more mythological than the declarations in the Apocalypse which are still literally accredited by multitudes of the believing. And what shall be said of the following extract from a little book called "The Sight of Hell," recently published with high ecclesiastical endorsement, for circulation among the children of Great Britain and America? The writer, the Rev. J. Furniss, describes the different dungeons of hell, and the passage which we quote is but a fair specimen of the entire series of tracts which he has collected in a volume, and which is having a large sale at this very time. "In the middle of the fourth dungeon there is a boy. His eyes are burning like two burning coals. Two long flames come out of his ears. He opens his mouth, and blazing fire rolls out. But listen! there is a sound like a kettle boiling. The blood is boiling in the scalded veins of that boy. The brain is boiling and bubbling in his head. The marrow is boiling in his bones. There is a little child in a red hot oven. Hear how it screams to come out. See how it turns and twists itself about in the fire. It beats its head against the roof of the oven. It stamps its little feet on the floor. Very likely God saw that this child would get worse and worse, and never repent, and thus would have to be punished much more in hell. So God in his mercy called it out of the world in its early childhood." Of these diabolical horrors, drawn out through hundreds of pages, the orthodox Protestant may say, "Oh, this is only a piece of Popish superstition. We all repudiate it as a most repulsive and absurd fancy." Well, what then will he say if representations, though perhaps not quite so grossly graphic in circumstance, yet absolutely identical in principle, are set before him from the fresh utterances of hundreds of the most distinguished Baptist, Methodist, Presbyterian, Episcopalian preachers and theologians? It would be easy to present whole volumes of apposite citations. But two or three will be enough. John Henry Newman in that one of his parochial sermons, entitled, "On the Individuality of the Soul," gives us accounts of hell which for unshrinking detail of materiality will compare with the most frightful passages of Oriental mythology. George Bull, Lord Bishop of Saint Davids, in his volume of sermons declares that all who die with any sin unrepented of, "are immediately consigned to a place and state of irreversible misery a place of horrid darkness where there shines not the least glimmering of light or comfort." Mr. Spurgeon asserts, "There is a real fire in hell a fire exactly like that which we have on earth, except that it will torture without consuming. When thou diest thy soul will be tormented alone in hell: but at the day of judgment thy body shall join thy soul, and then thou wilt have twin hells, body and soul together, each brimfull of pain; thy soul sweating in its inmost pores drops of blood, and thy body, from head to foot, suffused with agony; not only conscience, judgment, memory, all tormented, but thy head tormented with racking pain, thine eyes starting from their sockets with sights of blood and woe; thine ears tormented with horrid noises; thy heart beating high with fever; thy pulse rattling at an enormous rate in agony; thy limbs cracking in the fire, and yet unburned; thyself put in a vessel of hot oil, pained, yet undestroyed. Ah! fine lady, who takest care of thy goodly fashioned face, that fair face shall be scarred with the claws of fiends. Ah! proud gentleman, dress thyself in goodly apparel for the pit; come to hell with powdered hair. It ill becomes you to waste time in pampering your bodies when you are only feeding them to be devoured in the flame. If God be true, and the Bible be true, what I have said is the truth, and you will find it one day to be so." Is not this paragraph a disgusting combination of ignorance and arrogance? It is to be swept aside and forgotten along with the immense mass of similar trash, loathsome mixture of superstition and conceit, with which Christendom has for these many centuries been so cruelly deceived and surfeited. Tearing off and throwing away from the vulgar doctrine of hell all the incrustation of material errors and poetic symbolism, the pure truth remains that God will forever see that justice is done, virtue rewarded, vice punished. Then the question arises, In what way is this done? Not by the material apparatus of a local hell. For the doctrine of such a penal abode is not only a natural product of the mythological action of the human mind in its development through the circumstances of history, but when regarded in that light it is clearly a false representation. It is a figment incredible to any vigorous, educated and free mind at the present day. Such reception as it now has it retains by force of an unthinking submission to tradition and authority. In the primitive ages, when the soul was imagined to be a fac simile of the body, only of a more refined substance, capable of becoming visible as a ghost, of receiving wounds, of uttering faint shrieks when hurt, of partaking of physical food and pleasure, it was perfectly natural to believe it susceptible of material imprisonment and material torments. Such was the common belief when the doctrine of a physical hell was wrought out. The doctrine yet lingers by sheer force of prescription and unthinkingness, when the basis on which it originally rested has been dissipated. We know great as our ignorance is, we know that the soul is a pure immateriality. Its manifestations depend on certain physical organs and accompaniments, but are not identical with them. Thought, feeling, will, action, force, desire, these are spirit, and not matter. A pure consciousness cannot be shut up in a dungeon under lock and bolt. A wish cannot be lashed with a whip. A volition cannot be fastened in chains of iron. You may crush or blast the visible organism in connection with which the soul now acts; but no hammer can injure an idea, no flame scorch a sentiment. What the spiritual personality becomes, how it exists, what it is susceptible of, when disembodied, no man knows. It is idle for any man, or any set of men to pretend to know. Unquestionably it is not capable of material confinement and penalties. The gross popular doctrine of hell as the fiery prison house of the devil and his angels, and the condemned majority of mankind, therefore, fades into thin air and vanishes before the truth of the absolute spirituality of mind. In those early times, when military, political, judicial and convivial phenomena furnished the most imposing and instructive phenomena, before exact science and critical philosophy had given us their fitter moulds and tests of thought, it was unavoidable that men should think of God and Satan as two hostile monarchs, each having his own empire and striving to secure his own subjects, and looking on the subjects of his adversary as foes to be thwarted at all points. But when, with the progress of thought evil is discerned to be a negation, the devil vanishes as a verbal phantom, and the bounds of his local realm are blotted out and blent in the single dominion of the infinite God who regards none as enemies, but is the steady friend and ruler of all creatures, everywhere aiming, not to inflict vengeance on the wicked, but to harmonize the discordant, bringing good out of bad and better out of good in perpetual evolution. Sound theology will see that God is the pervading Creator who governs all from within by the continuous action and reaction between every life and its environing conditions. But mythology puts in place of this the incompetent conception of God as a political king, governing by external edicts and agents, by overt decrees and constables. This deludes us with the local and material hell of superstition, which has no existence in reality. Disordered Function is the open turnpike and metropolis of the real hell of experience. The great king's highway, leading to heaven from every point in the universe is the golden Mean of Virtue; but on the right and left of this broad road two tributary rivers, namely, Defect and Excess, empty into hell. The only true hell is the vindicating and remedial return of resisted law on a being out of tune with some just condition of his nature and destiny. The fearful cruelty and tyranny of the mythological hell, supported by the constant drilling of the people on the part of the priesthood whose vested interests and prejudices are bound up in the doctrine, have held the human race long enough in their bondage of pain and terror. In a Buddhist scripture we read, "The people in hell who are immersed in the Lohakumbha, a copper caldron a thousand miles in depth, boiling and bubbling like rice grains in a cooking pot, once in sixty thousand years descend to the bottom and return to the top. As they reach the surface they utter one syllable of prayer, and sink again on their terrific journey. Those who, during their life on earth, reverence the three jewels, Buddha, the Law and the Priesthood, will escape Lohakumbha!" The same essential doctrine resting on the same inveterate basis, selfish love of power and sensation, still prevails, though diminishingly, among us. When at last in the light of reason and a pure faith it vanishes away what a long breath of relief Christendom and humanity will draw! If we thus dismiss as a vulgar error the belief in a hell which is a bounded region of physical torture somewhere in outward space, it becomes us to acquire in place of this rejected figment some more just and adequate idea. For a doctrine which has played such a tremendous part in the religious history of the world must be based on a truth, however travestied and overlaid that truth may be. This frightful envelop of superstitious fictions cannot be without some important reality within. In distinction, then, from the monstrous mass of mistakes denoted by it, what is the truth carried in the awful word, hell? Denying hell to be distinctively any particular locality in time and space, we affirm it to be an experience resulting wherever the spiritual conditions of it are furnished. Accordingly, we are not to exclude it from the present state and confine it to the future, as those seem to do who say that men go to hell after death. Being a personal experience and not a material place, many are in it now and here as much as they ever will be anywhere. Neither are we to exclude it from the future and confine it to the present state, as those do who say that all the hell there is terminates with the emergence of the soul from the body. This might be so, if all sins discords and retributions were bodily. But, plainly, they are not. A mental chaos or inversion of order is as possible as a physical one. Hell is anywhere or nowhere, at any time or at no time, accordingly as the soul carries or does not carry its conditions. We are not to say of the sinner that he goes to hell when he dies, but that hell comes to him when he feels the returns of his evil deeds. It is a state within rather than a place without. The true meaning of hell is, a state of painful opposition to the will of God, misadjustment of personal constitution with universal order or the rightful conditions of being. This is not, as the vulgar doctrine would make it, an experience of unvarying sameness into which all its subjects are indiscriminately flung. It is a thing of endless varieties and degrees, varying with the individual fitnessess. Hell is pain in the senses, slavery in the will, contradiction or confusion in the intellect, remorse or vain aspiration in the conscience, disproportion or ugliness in the imagination, doubt, fear, and hate in the heart. There is a hell of remorse, forever retreading the path of ruined yesterdays. There is a hell of loss, whose occupant stands gazing on the melancholy might have been transmuted now into a relentless nevermore. Every sinner has a hell as original and idiosyncratic as his soul and its contents. As the ingredients of evil experience are not mixed alike in any, hell cannot be one monotonous fixture for all, but must be a process altering with the different elements and degrees afforded, and softening or ending its wretchedness in proportion as the heavenly elements and degrees of freedom, pleasure, clearness, self approval, beauty, faith and love, furnish the conditions of blessedness. Hell being the consciousness of a soul in which private will is antagonistic to some relation of universal law, its keenness and extent, in every instance, must be measured by the variations of this antagonism. But how does such an antagonism arise? What are the results or penalties of it? How can it be remedied? No amount of reflection will enable any man to penetrate to the bottom of all the mysteries connected with these questions. But though we cannot tell why the principles of our destiny should be as we find them, we can see what the facts of the case actually are as revealed in the history of human experience. And this is what chiefly concerns us. Let us, then, try to penetrate a little more thoroughly into the nature of hell. The rude definition of heaven and hell, regardless of any special place or time, is respectively the experience of good, and the experience of evil. But what are good and evil? Good is the conscious realization of universal order, the absolute fruition of being, the fulfillment of individual function, in accordance with the conditions for the most perfect and prolonged fulfillment of the universal totality of functions. Supposing that there were only one instance and form of conscious life, with no possibility of conflicting claims within or without, then good would be to that life simply the fulfillment of the functions of its nature. But the moment a being is set in relation with other beings like itself, and also made aware of various gradations of importance among its own interior faculties, then the definition of good is no longer the simple fulfillment of function, or the mere gratification of desire; but it becomes the fulfillment of function in such a manner as to secure the greatest total quality and quantity of fulfilled function. Now evil is the opposite or negation of this. It is whatever lessens the fruition of life, prevents the fulfillment of function, contracts or mars the realization of universal order in the consciousness of a living being. Thus evil is not merely the keeping of an individual desire from its own proper good. But every gratification of desire which involves the winning of a less important good at the expense of a more important one is evil; or, on the other hand, the evil of sacrificing or denying a gratification in itself legitimate, becomes good when it is the means for securing a more authoritative gratification. Let us try to make these abstract statements intelligible by illustration. The appropriation of nutriment is a good, the indispensable method for sustaining life. It is right that we should eat and drink; and the pleasure which accompanies the proper performance of the function is the reflex approval of the Creator. The refusal fitly to take and relish our food brings debility, disease, pain, and premature death. Whether this refusal results from absorption in other employment or from some superstitious belief, it is a violation of the will of our Maker, and the consequent suffering and dissolution are the retributive hell or reflex signals, painfully pointing out our duty. On the other hand, if the pleasure of gratifying appetite becomes a motive for its own sake and leads to excessive indulgence, the superior good of permanent health and vigor is sacrificed to the far inferior transient good of a tickled palate. Thus, the dyspeptic over loading his stomach is plunged into the horrid hell of nightmare: the gourmand, pampering himself with a diet of spiced meats and Burgundy, shrieks from the twinging hell of gout. There is no divine malice in this. It is simply the rectifying rebound of the distorted arrangements of nature. The law of virtue prescribes in every respect that course of action which, on the whole, permanently and universally, will secure the greatest amount and the best quality of life and experience. Vice is whatever inverts or interferes with this, as when a man exalts a physical impulse above a moral faculty, or incurs years of shame and misery in the future for the sake of some passing gratification in the present. God commands man to rule his passions by reason, not slavishly obey them; to exercise a wisely proportioned self denial to day for the winning of a safer and nobler morrow. The degree in which they do this measures the civilization, wisdom, moral valor, and dignity of men. The failure to do this is the condition on which every infernal penalty or reaction of hellish experience hinges. A man may feed an abnormal craving for opium, until all his once royal powers of body and mind are sacrificed, imbecility and madness set in, and his nervous system becomes a darting box of torments. How much better, according to the aphorism of Jesus, to have cut off this single desire, than for the whole man to be thus cast into hell. Hell is the retributive reflex or return of disarranged order experienced when in the hieriarchy of man higher grades of faculty and motive are subordinated to lower ones. The miser who gives himself up to a base greed for money, separated from its uses, is thereby degraded into a mechanized, self fed and self consuming passion, having no pleasure, except that of accumulating, hoarding and gloating over the idle emblem of a good never realized. His time and life, his very brain and heart, are coined into an obscene dream of money. He knows nothing of the grandest ranges of the universe, nothing of the sweetest delights of humanity. Contracted, stooping, poorly clad, ill fed, self neglected, despised by everybody, dwelling alone in a bleak and squalid chamber, despite his potential riches, his whole life is a conglomerate of impure fears welded by one sordid lust fear of robbery, fear of poverty, fear of men, fear of God, fear of death, all fused together by a lust for money. Is he not in a competent hell? Who would wish anything worse for him? His vice is the elevation of the love of money above a thousand nobler claims. His unclean and odious experience is the avenging hell which warns the spectators, and would redeem its occupant, if he would open his soul to its lessons. So, when a burglar breaks into a bank and bears off the treasures deposited there, scattering dismay and ruin amidst a hundred families, the essence of his crime is that he makes the narrow principle of his selfish desire paramount over the broad principle of the public welfare, setting the petty good of his individual enrichment above the weighty good represented by that respect for the right of property which is a condition essential to the life of the community. The principle on which he acts, if carried out, would cause the dissolution of society. The evil which he seeks to avoid, his lack of the means of life, is incomparably smaller than the evil he perpetrates, the means for the death of society. The resulting sense of hostility between himself and the community, alienation from his fellow men and from God, fear of detection, actual condemnation by his own conscience, and ideal condemnation by all the world, constitute a hell felt in proportion to the delicacy of his sensibility. The spiritual disturbance and pain thus suffered are the effort of Providence to readjust the inverted relation of his low self interest to the higher interest of the general public, and remove the threatened ruinous consequences of his sin by remedying the order it has disbalanced and broken. These illustrations have prepared the way for a statement of the true idea of hell in its final formula. The will of God is expressed in that gradation of goods or scale of ranks which indicates the fixed conditions of universal welfare and the accordant forces of the motives which should impel our pursuit of them. To seek these goods in their proper order of importance and authority, every level of function beneath kept subservient to every one above, is the law of salvation, or the pathway of heaven through the universe. To substitute our will for the will of God, the intensity of private desires in place of the dignity of public motives, putting the lower and smaller over the higher and greater, is the law of perdition, or the pathway of hell through the universe. The lowest function of man is a simple momentary gratification of sense, as, for example, an act of nutrition. The highest function of which his nature is capable is the surrender of himself to the universal order, the sympathetic identification of himself with the eternal law and weal of the whole. Between those vast extremes there are hundreds of intermediate functions, rising in worth and authority from the direct gratifications of appetite to the ideal appropriations of transcendental good, from the titillation given by a pinch of snuff to the thrill imparted by an imaginative contemplation of the redeemed state of humanity a million years ahead. But, throughout the entire range, all the sin and guilt from which hell is produced consist in obeying a lower motive in preference to a higher one, making some narrow or selfish good paramount over a wider or disinterested one. A man, educated as a physician, practiced his profession on scientific principles, and nearly starved on an income of seven hundred dollars a year. He then set up as a quack, compounded a worthless nostrum, and, by dint of impudence, advertising, and other charlatanry, made eighteen thousand dollars a year, and justified his conduct on the ground of his success. By falsehood and cheating he preyed on the credulity of the public. If all men were like him, society could not exist. The meanness of his soul, shutting him out from the most exquisite and exalted prerogatives of human nature, is the revenge which the universe takes on such a man the hell in which God envelops him. A manufacturer turns out certain products by means of a chemical process which adds seven per cent. to his profit, but shortens the average life of his workmen five years. All mankind would indignantly denounce him with an instinctive recognition of his wickedness in thus erecting the profane standard of pecuniary gain above the sacredness of the lives of his brothers. But when of two men in deadly peril from an approaching explosion only one can escape, and the stronger, instead of monopolizing the chance, as he might, stands back and lays down his life in saving the weaker, it is a deed of heroic virtue, applauded by all men, supported by the whole moral creation which derives new beauty and sweetness from it. It radiates a peaceful bliss of self approval through the breast before it is mangled and cold, and fills the soul with a serene joy as it flies to God. The essential merit of such an action is the subjection of that selfishness which is the principle of all sin, and whose recoil is the spring trap of hell, to that disinterestedness which is the germ of redemption and the perfume of heaven. It is not an unfrequent occurrence for a mixture of heaven and hell to be experienced. Here is an able and upright merchant who is about to fail, in consequence of disasters which he could neither foresee nor prevent, and for which he is in no sense responsible. He shrinks from bankruptcy with inexpressible shame and distress. He is mortified, cut to the quick, robbed of sleep, can hardly look his creditors in the face. Now, he reflects, "This is not my fault. I have been honest, prudent, economical, unwearied in effort, I have done my duty to the best of my ability. God approves me, and all good men would if they knew the exact facts." If that assurance does not shed an element of heaven into his hell, spread a soothing veil of light and oil over his stormy trouble, then it is because his pride is greater than his self respect, his vanity more keen than his conscience is strong, his regard for appearances more influential than his knowledge of the truth. And in that case the misery he suffers is the penalty of his excessive self sensitiveness. The elements of hell are pain, slavery, imprisonment, rebellion, forced exertion, forced inaction, shame, fear, self condemnation, social condemnation, universal condemnation, aimlessness, and despair. He who seeks good only in the just order of its successive standards, gratifying no lower function, except in subservience to the higher ones, escapes these experiences, feels that he fulfills his destiny, and is an approved freeman of God. The service of truth and good alone makes free; all service of evil is slavery and wretchedness. For freedom is spontaneous obedience to that which has a right to command. The thirsty man who quaffs a glass of cold water does an act of liberty; but he who constantly intoxicates himself in satiation of a morbid and despotic appetite, knows that he is a slave, and feels condemned, and chafes in the hell of his bondage. The dissipated sluggards and thieves who feed the vices and prey on the interests of the community, writhe under the rebuke of the higher laws they break in enthroning their selfish propensities above the cardinal standards of the public good; and in the stale monotony of their indulgences, they know nothing of the glorious zest shed by the best prizes of existence into the breasts of the virtuous and aspiring, whom every day finds farther advanced on their way to perfection. Envy is the very blast that blows the forge of hell. It sets its victim in painful antagonism with all good not his own, actually turning it into evil; while a generous sympathy appropriates as its own all the foreign good it contemplates. The sight of his successful rival keeps an envious man in a chronic hell, but adds a heavenly enjoyment to the experience of a generous friend. Ignorance, pride, falsehood, and hate are the four master keys to the gates of hell keys which sinners are ever unwittingly using to let themselves in, and then to lock the bolts behind. A character whose spontaneous motions are upward and outward, from the central and lowermost instincts of self toward the highest and outer most apprehensions of good, exemplifies the law of salvation, which guides the conscious soul in an ascending and expanding spiral through the successively greater spheres of truth and life. The character whose spontaneous tendencies are the reverse of this, moving inward and downward, exemplifies the law of perdition, which guides the soul in a descending and contracting spiral, constantly enslaving it to lower and viler attractions of self in preference to letting it freely serve the superior ranks forever issuing their redemptive behests and invitations above. When the members of a family erect their separate wills as independent laws, instead of harmoniously blending around a common authority of truth and love, when they live in incessant collisions and stormy insubordination, a poisonous fret of irritable vanity gnawing their heart strings, a fiery sleet of hate and scorn hurtling through the domestic atmosphere, the whole household are in perdition. Their home is a concentrated hell. To be without love, without soothing attentions and encouragements, without fresh aims, and a relishing alternation of work and rest, without progress and hope, to be deprived of the legitimate gratifications of the functions of our being, and compelled to suffer their opposites what closer definition of hell can there be than this? And this, while avoided or neutralized by virtue, is, in its various degrees, obviously the inevitable result and penalty of sin. The great mistake in the popular view or mythological doctrine of hell has arisen from conceiving of God under the image of a political ruler, acting from without, by wilful methods, and inflicting arbitrary judgments on his rebellious subjects. He should be conceived as the dynamic Creator, acting from within, through the intrinsic order and laws of things, for the instruction and guidance of his creatures. His condemnation is the inevitable culmination of a discordant state of being, rather than the verdict of a vindictive judge or the sentence of a forensic monarch. Every retribution is an impinge of the creature in the creation, and, so far from expressing destructive wrath, is an act of the self rectifying mechanism of the universe to readjust the part with the whole. With what pernicious folly, what cruel superstition, men have attributed their own miserable passions to their imperturbable Maker, breaking his infinite perfection into all sorts of frightful shapes, as seen through the blur and effervescence of their own imperfections! So the sun seems to go down with his garments rolled in blood, and to set angrily in a stormy ocean of fire: but really the great lamp of the universe shines serenely from the unalterable fixture of his central seat, and all this spectral tempest of blaze and glare is but a refraction of his beams through our vexed atmosphere. God being infinitely perfect, does not change his dispositions and modes of action like a fickle man. His intentions and deeds are the same here and everywhere, now and always. If we wish to learn in what manner God will prepare a hell and punish the impenitent wicked after death, we must not, as men did in the barbaric and mythological ages, make an induction from the treatment of criminals by capricious and revengeful rulers in this world; we must see how God himself now treats his disobedient children for their demerits here, assured that his eternal temper and method are identical with his temporal temper and method. Well, then, how does God treat offenders now? Incapable of anger or caprice, he retains his own steady procedures and absolute serenity unaltered, but leaves the culprits to endure the effects of their perverted bearing towards him and towards the order he has established. If a man lies or defiles himself, or blasphemes, or murders, God does not dash him from a cliff or cast him into a furnace of fire. There would be no connection of cause and effect in that; and to suppose it, is a gross superstition. He leaves the offender to the reactions of his own acts, the discordant vileness of his own degradation, the devouring return of his own passions, to punish him for his sin, and to purge him of his wrong. The true retribution of every wicked deed is contained in the recalcitration of its own motive. What fitter penalty can the soul suffer than that of being embraced in the hellish atmosphere of its own bad spirit, to teach it to reform itself and cultivate a better spirit? What, then, is the meaning of the fear, suffering and horror, which so often accompany or follow sin? They do not, as has been commonly supposed, express the indignation and revengefulness of God. No, at their very darkest, they must suggest the shadow of his aggrieved will, not the lurid frown of his rage. A part of the discord which sin is and introduces, they denote the remedial struggles of nature and grace to restore the perverted being to its normal condition. If you put your finger in the fire the burning pain is the reaction of your act, and that pain is not vengeance, but preservative education. When some frightful disease seizes on a man, the inflammation and convulsions which succeed are the violent spring of the constitution on the enemy, its desperate attempt to shake off the fell grasp, and bring the organism to health and peace again. These efforts either succeed, or in the exhausting shocks the body is destroyed. It is the same with the soul. Sin is the displacement of the hierarchy of authorities in the soul, the misbalancing of its energies, the disturbance of its health and peace. And all the varieties of retribution are the recoil of the injured faculties, the struggles of the insulted authorities, to vindicate and reestablish themselves. Now, these efforts, if the soul is indestructible, must always, at last, be successful. Health in the body is the harmonious adjustment of its energies with its conditions; and a sufficient modicum must be obtained or death ensues. Virtue in the soul is the harmony of its powers with the laws of God; the measure of this is the measure of spiritual life; and granting the soul to be immortal, the tendency towards a complete measure of virtue must ultimately become irresistible, and every hell at last terminate in paradise. The persistent forces or laws of the divine environment steadily tend to draw the unstable forces or passions of all creatures into harmony with them, and that harmony is redemption. Perdition is consequently never, as the ecclesiastical doctrine makes it always, a state of fixed hopelessness. Though we make our bed in the nethermost hell, God is there. And wherever God is, penitence and grace, reformation and pardon, have a right of eminent domain between him and the souls of his children. According to the common doctrine of hell as a physical locality, and the predestination of all men to it through the sin of Adam, birth is a universal gateway of perdition, the whole world one open course to damnation for all except the few elected to be saved through the blood of Christ. The orthodox scheme depicts the lineage of Adam as a dark river of perdition, choked with the souls of the damned, steadily pouring into hell ever since our human generations began. But in addition to the refutation of this terrible belief by its monstrous moral iniquity, science is now doubly refuting it by the proof of the existence of the human race on the earth for unnumbered centuries before the Biblical date of Adam. So this fictitious gate of a fictitious hell is shut and abolished. With it vanishes the horrible picture of this world as floored with omnipresent trap doors to the bottomless pit, and closed fatally around by a dead wall of doom, through which, by one bloody orifice alone, the believers in the vicarious atonement could crawl up into heaven. In place of this, we see the whole universe as one open House of God, traversed in all directions by the free entries of laws of intrinsic justice and love. And so of the remaining theoretic gates of hell, unbelief, ritual neglect, and the other technicalities on which priests and deluded zealots have always hinged the perdition of such as heed not their authority; none of them shall much longer prevail. With the wiping out of the mythological hell all these fanciful entrances to it likewise disappear. But instead of these visionary ones we should point out and warn men from the substantial gates of the true hell. Whatever is a cause of insubordinate and discordant fruition in body or soul, individual or community, is a real gate of hell. All the moral and social evils, intemperance, war, ambition, avarice, the extremes of poverty and wealth, ignorance, bad example, despotism, disease, every form of vice or crime, all the influences that destroy or mar human virtue, excellence, and harmony, are so many open gates of hell, drawing their victims in. In holding back those who are approaching these fatal gates, in trying to contract them, to shut them up here is a vital work to be done, infinitely more promising than the brandishing of the terrors of that material hell in which sensible men can no longer believe. For the only true hell is the remedial vibration of truth in an uncoordinated soul, even when not remedial for the individual still remedial for the race. It is not our outward abode, but our inmost spirit, that makes our experience infernal or heavenly: for, in the last result, it is the occupying spirit that moulds the environment, not the habitation that determines the tenant. This is the substance of the whole matter. An accomplished chemist, who was a good man in truth, but a heretic by the standard of orthodoxy, died. Being an unbeliever, of course, he went to hell. Seeing a group of children in torment there, he pitied them very deeply, and straightway began to devise measures, by means of his skill in chemical science, to shield them from the flame. Instantly the whole scene changed. The beauty of heaven lay around him, and all its blandness breathed through him. Forgetting his own sufferings in sympathy for those of others, he had obeyed the law of virtue, subjecting a selfish desire to a disinterested one; and the omnipotent God enveloped him with the heaven of his own spirit. Another man, who was hard and cruel in character, but perfectly sound in the orthodox faith and observances, died. It is true he was an avaricious and hard saint, but then he believed in the atoning blood; and so, of course, he went to heaven. No sooner did he find himself safely seated in bliss than he tried to peep over the golden wall into the pit of perdition, in order to heighten the relish of his favored lot by the contrast of the agonies of the lost. Instantly the celestial scenery about him was changed into infernal, and, by the radiation and return of his own bad spirit, he found himself plunged into hell and writhing under its retributive experience. His character exemplified the law of perdition, enthroning selfishness over disinterestedness, subverting the order of virtue; and the insulted will of God made his imagined heaven a real hell. Hell is revealed in the experience of the world as a diminishing quantity through the successive periods since war, cannibalism and slavery were universal. Will not the progressive process terminate in the utter extinction of it, paradise everywhere steadily encroaching on purgatory until at last the whole universe of matter and spirit composes an unbroken heaven? According to the nebular hypothesis, the entire creation was once a measureless chaos confusion, conflict, collisions, explosions, making a universal hell of matter. But the discords and perturbations grew ever less and less, regularity and order more and more, as suns and planets and moons took form and wheeled in their gleaming circles, till now the mazy web of worlds is weaving throughout space the perfect harmony of the creative design. The evolution of incarnate spiritual destinies began later, and is more complex than the material, each mind being as complicated as the whole galaxy. May we not trust that at last it shall be as complete as the evolution of the astronomic motions already is, and a divine empire of holy and happy men be the goal of history? This hope carries the cross through hell, and leaves nothing unredeemed. CHAPTER IV. THE GATES OF HEAVEN; OR, THE LAW OF SALVATION IN ALL WORLDS. HEAVEN, in the crude fancy of mankind, has generally been conceived as a definite, exclusive, material abode; either some elysian clime on the surface of the earth; or some happy isle beyond the setting sun; or this whole globe, renovated by fire and peopled with a risen and ransomed race; or else some halcyon spot in the sky, curtained with inaccessible splendor and crowded with eternal blessings. It was natural that men should think thus of heaven as a place whence all the evils which they knew were excluded and where all the goods which they knew were carried to the highest pitch, God himself visibly enthroned there in entrancing glory amidst throngs of worshippers. This was unavoidable, because, in an early age, before knowledge and reflection had trained men to the critical examination and correction of their instinctive conclusions, all the data which they possessed would naturally lead them to imagine the unknown God in the glorified form and circumstances of the most enviable being their experience had yet revealed to them; and to paint the unknown future state of perfected souls under the purest aspects of the most desirable boons they had known in the present state. It being a necessity of their uncritical minds to personify God by a definite picture of imagination, and to portray heaven to themselves as an external place, they could not do otherwise than work out the results by means of the most intense experiences and the most impressive imagery familiar to them. The highest idea they had of man, purified and expanded to the utmost, would be their idea of God; and the grandest and happiest conditions of existence within their observation, enhanced by the removal of every limiting ill, would form their notion of heaven. Both would be outward, definite, local, and, as it were, tangible. Royal courts with their pomp of power and luxury; priestly temples, with their exclusive sanctity, their awe inspiring secrets, their processions and anthems, would inevitably furnish the prevailing casts and colors to the dogmas and the scenery of early religion. For what were the most vivid of all the experiences men had among their fellows on earth? Why, the exhibitions of the sultan with his gorgeous ceremonial state, and of the high priest with the dread sacrifice and homage he paid amidst clouds of incense and rolling waves of song; the admission of the favored, in glittering robes, to share the privileges; the exclusion of the profane and vulgar in squalid misery and outer darkness. Consequently, except by a miracle, these sights could not fail largely to constitute the scenic elements for the popular belief concerning God and heaven. What should men reflect over into the unknown to portray their ideals there, if not the most coveted ingredients and the most impressive forms of the known? The great thing, then, inevitably, would be supposed to be to gain the personal favor of the supreme Sovereign by some artifice, some flattery, some fortunate compliance with his arbitrary caprice, and to get into the charmed enclosure of his abode by some special grace some authoritative passport or magic art. But as soon as science and philosophy, and a spiritual experience rectifying its own errors by reflective criticism, have created a more competent theology it discredits all these raw schemes. It teaches that God, being the eternal omnipresent power and mystery which foreran, underlies, pervades and includes all things, cannot justly be figured as a man, locally here or there, and not elsewhere. He can be justly thought of only as the almighty Creator of the universe, intelligible in the order of his works and ways, but inscrutable in his essence, absent nowhere, present everywhere in general, and specially revealed anywhere whenever a fit experience in the soul awakens a special consciousness of him. This conception of God the only one any longer defensible as the Infinite Spirit, incapable, except in his various incarnations, of particular local enthronement and uncovering to the outward gaze of worshippers, necessitates a correspondent alteration in the vulgar idea of heaven as an exclusive spot in space. In every form of being, in any portion of the universe, the central idea of a state of salvation, is the fulfillment of the will of the Creator in the faculties of the creature, the fruition of the ends of the whole in the consciousness of the part, the congruity of the forces of the soul with the requirements of its situation. If this definition be accepted, it is clear that no mere place of residence, however excellent, can be heaven. That is but one factor of heaven, and worthless without a corresponding factor of a spiritual kind. Essentially, heaven is a divine experience, not a divine location; yet constructively it is both of these. Ever so serene and pure a space, perfectly free from every perturbation of ill, and surrounded with all the outer provisions of power and order, would be no heaven, until a prepared soul entered it, furnishing the spiritual conditions for the forces to run into fruition, for the melody of blissful being to play. The material elements of the universe, so far as we know, are unconscious dynamics. However perfectly marshalled, they can by themselves compose no heaven. So the conscious soul, as far as we know, is incapable of an independent and unrelated existence in itself. All its experience, when ultimately analyzed, is the resultant of the mutual relations between its own energies and capacities and the forms and forces of things outside of itself. When there is a right arrangement of right realities in the residence, and a right development of faculties and affections within the resident, and such an adjustment of the spiritual states with the surrounding conditions, that, as these act and react upon each other, the laws of the universe break into conscious harmony, or the will of God is realized in a life of blessedness; that harmony, that blessedness, is what we mean by heaven; and the conditions of its realization constitute the law of salvation. Such being the true idea of heaven, obviously, it cannot be limited to any particular locality. It may be here, elsewhere, anywhere, everywhere, before death, in death, after death; whenever and wherever the proper conditions meet inward state and outward circumstances so adjusted as to produce an experience which fulfills the will of God and realizes the end of the creation. Hereafter this may be, as we know it now on earth, a spiritual fruition in material conditions, or it may be something altered in accordance with the varying exigences of worlds whose details are as yet inconceivable by us, altogether hidden behind the veil of futurity and our ignorance. But its one fundamental condition, its eternal essence under all circumstances which can possibly happen, must always be the same. Whatever changes await the soul, embodied in a new form in the state after death, or remaining in pure disembodiment; whatever be the relation of the immaterial entity of mind to the circumference and contents of its new home, it can be in paradise, it can command peace and bliss, or any equivalent of these terms, only by the fulfillment of the will of God in its being. Heaven is, therefore, the reconciliation and unison of the soul with its divinely appointed lot, the identification of the ideal and the real. The will of God is expressed in the soul in the submissive services and virtues of a pure and pious character it is expressed in the outward creation by the unbreakable persistency of his laws through all the aberrations and discords of accompaning evil or limitation. Nowhere can it ever be an impossibility to conjoin these and thus to make a heaven. The one thing which everywhere is variable and evanescent, is evil, or the imperfect adjustment of the creature with the works and designs of the Creator. The one thing which forever stays, and steadily invites the intelligent soul to its embrace, is good, that is, the opportunity to realize the divinely intended correspondence of the relations in the part with the relations in the whole, a serene movement of life through the unison of the soul with its true fate. Now, the one predicate which is essential in all things, without whose presence nothing can be, is the will of God. Even could that will be violated or withstood, still it would be there, upholding, forgiving, wooing Salvation, or a life of conscious harmony, is capable of realization, of course, wherever the means are offered for the performance and enjoyment of the will of God; and the infinity of his attributes necessarily makes that condition an omnipresent possibility in the realm of free spirits. Therefore, heaven is not outwardly limited to one place, or to one period, but may be achieved at any time, and anywhere. This throws light on the fallacy of the current, narrow doctrine of a limited probation. The oriental belief that the action of the present is the fate of the future unquestionably covers a profound truth. Yet, if there is always a future there must likewise always be a present, and the right action in this may forever redeem that. Probation is limited by no decree, only by the duration of free being. Although the essential element in the idea of heaven is forever the same, it may be regarded in three different aspects, or on three different scales as an individual experience, as a social state, as a far off universal event. Heaven, as a private experience, is the harmonized intercourse of the soul with the divineness in its surrounding conditions. Heaven, as a public society, is the blessed communion of blessed souls, a complete adjustment of the lives of kindred natures. Heaven, as a final consummation, is the publication of the vindicated will of God in the total harmony of the universe, all individual wills so many separate notes blent in the collective consonance of the whole. But, for all practical purposes, we may overlook this triple distinction and think of heaven simply as the correspondence of the life of the soul with those outward conditions which represent the will of God. And towards this conclusion everything, in its profoundest and most persistent tendency, is bearing. In spite of interruptions and seeming exceptions, it is towards this that the entire confluence of forces and beings gravitates and slowly advances. The universal law of evolution, in which a scientific philosophy has generalized its most comprehensive induction, is but a history and prophecy of the progress towards a moving equilibrium of the totality of worlds and intelligences, which can eventuate only in a universal heaven, or unimpeded completion of the creative design. Do we not see all creatures tending towards the perfection of their respective types, every improvement selectively taken up and carried on, every deteriorating deviation eliminated, all errors and failures doomed to perish or change into new conditions for more hopeful attempts? This confirms the faith first based on the deeper argument. For, since the will of God is the one persistent reality, the one all evolving and all inclusive power of which evil is only the distorted and shadowy negation, that opposition to the will of God which constitutes sin and misery, that discord with him which generates hell, must prove an ever smaller accompaniment of his plan, a transitory phenomenon ceasing in even degree with the spreading conquests of his almighty purpose, as race on race of creatures, and system on system of worlds, sweep into the victorious harmony, until the boundless realm of being shall be boundless heaven. Heaven, then, in essence, is not merely a favored locality, not merely a resigned soul, but the result of a combination of these in a just relation. It is not a playing power in the material environment nor an inherent attribute of the spiritual instrument; but it is the music which flows from the instrument when it is attuned to react in coordination with the acting environment. Salvation, consequently, is not simply a divine place of abode, not simply a divine state of soul; but it is these two conjoined. It is the experimental deposit between the two poles of rightly ordered conditions in the realm and rightly directed energies in the inhabitant. Heaven, then, in the best and briefest definition we can give, is the will of God in fulfillment, or the law of the whole in uncrossed action. Hell is the experience produced by the rebound of violated law. Or, if we hold that, strictly speaking, a divine law is incapable of violation; as every seeming resistance to gravitation is in fact a deeper obedience to gravitation, then we may say, in more accurate phrase, hell is the collision and friction of the limitations of different laws. It is the discord of the part with the whole. It is the antagonism of the soul with God. But the perpetual preservation of a perfectly balanced antagonism with God is inconceivable. It must vary, totter, grow either worse or better. If it grows worse, it will finally destroy itself, the aberrant individuality or malign insurgence vanishing in the totality of force, as the filth of our sewers vanishes purely in the purity of the ocean. If it grows better, its improvement will finally transform the opposition into reconciliation, the evil disappearing in good. Therefore, every being must at length be saved from misery, if not by redemptive atonement then by absolvent annihilation, and one absolute heaven finally absorb the dwindling hells. The question of chief importance to us in relation to heaven is, How can we gain admission into it. The limitations of language necessitate the use of imagery for the expression of religious ideas: and there is no objection to it if it be recognized as imagery, and be interpreted accordingly. Considering, then, that beatific experience of which heaven consists, under the metaphor of a city, what are its ways of entrance? How can we pass to its citizenship? The obstacles to our entrance exist not in the city itself. Its gates are never closed. The supreme conditions of redemption are spiritual, and not local or material. If there be within no fatal impediments to the free course of the will of God, all outer obstacles easily give way and cease. If we are ever to know heaven, it is within ourselves that we must find it out. Whatever abolishes that internal rebellion of the soul which makes its experience a purgatory, whatever replaces this confusion with an accord of the faculties, is a road to heaven. Whatever removes vices and inserts virtues in their stead, attuning us to the eternal laws of things, leads us through some gate into paradise. And nothing else can no ceremonial artifice, no external transference, no sacramental exorcism, no priestly dodge. The same mistake generally committed in regard to the nature of heaven, making it a mere local residence, has been as generally committed in regard to the conditions of admission. They have been made arbitrary, whereas they are intrinsic. They are inwrought with the substantial laws of being. The idea of God being first fashioned after the image of a sultan throned in his palace amidst his courtiers, ruling an empire by his whims, it was but natural that heaven, and the terms of entrance there, should be in a similar manner conceived under the forms of court ceremonial with its capricious favoritisms. Thus it has been supposed that by the atoning sacrifice of an incarnate person of the Godhead satisfaction has been made for the sins of the world, which was hopelessly ruined by its original federal representative, and that thus a pardon was offered to those alone who mentally accept the formula of the correspondent belief. According to this view, the only open gateway of heaven is faith in the vicarious atonement, a baptismal passage through the blood of Christ. Science explodes this narrow and repulsive doctrine by demonstrating its irreconcilableness alike with physical fact and with moral law, first tracing the affiliated lines of our race back to many separate Adams in the shadows of an indeterminable antiquity, and then showing that the divine method of salvation is through substantial rejection of evil and appropriation of good in personal character, and not through royal proclamation and forensic conformity. The plan of God for the salvation of men, as its culmination is seen in Christ, is the exhibition of the true type of being, the true style of motive and action, for their assimilation and reproduction: but Calvinism, when fundamentally analyzed, reduces it to a monarchical manifesto and spectacular drama working its effects through verbal terms, acts of mental assent and gesticular deeds. Every sound teaching of philosophy refutes this exclusive and arbitrary creed. In fact, its fictitious and mythological nature is obvious the moment we see that the will of God is represented in those laws of nature which are the direct articulations and embodiments of his eternal mind, and not in those political regulations or priestly and judicial formalities which express the perverted desires and artificial devices of men. The wearing of a certain dress, the bending of the knee, the muttering of a phrase, may flatter an earthly sovereign and gain a seat at his banquets. But it is childish folly to fancy any such thing of God. It is absurd to suppose that he has two schemes of government, one for the present state, another for the future; one for the elect, another for the reprobate; one for those who gaze on the spectacle of the crucifixion and make a certain sign, another for those who do not. His laws, identified with the unchangeable nature and course of the creation, sweep in one unbroken order throughout immensity and eternity, awarding perfect justice, and perfect mercy to all alike, making the experience of all souls a hell or a heaven to them accordingly as they strive against or harmonize with the divine system of existence in which they have their being. The mere acceptance of a technical dogma, the mere performance of a ritual action, cannot adjust a discordant character with the conditions of blessedness so as to reinstate an exile of heaven. To imagine that God will, in consideration of some technical device, place in heaven a man whose character fits him for hell, or, in default of that conventionality, place in hell a man whose character fits him for heaven, is to represent him as acting on an eccentric whim. And surely every one who has a worthy idea of God must find it much easier to believe that men have mixed mythological dreams with their religion, than to believe that the infinite God is capable of despotic freaks or melo dramatic caprices. The poor, odious figment that baptism with the blood of Christ is the sole entrance to heaven, is rebuked by the sweet and awful imperturbableness with which the laws of being act, distributing the ingredients of hell or heaven to every one accordingly as his vices disobey or his virtues obey the will of God. In a universe of law where God with all his attributes is omnipresent no trick can ever be the pathway into paradise. The true method of salvation is by the production of a good character through divine grace and the discipline of life. Thus, the real law of salvation through Christ consists not in the technical belief that he shed his blood for our redemption, but in the personal derival from him of that spirit which will make us willing to shed our own blood for the good of others. There was, not long ago, called to her eternal home, a young woman, who, by the sweet gentleness, the heroic generosity and the unspotted fidelity of her whole life, deserves an exalted place on the roll of feminine chivalry and saintliness. Not a brighter name, or one associated with a more fearless and accomplished spirit, is recorded on the list of those Christian women who volunteered to serve as nurses in the great American war of nationality. No soldier was braver, few were more under fire, than she; still plying her holy work with unfaltering love and fortitude, both in the horrid miasma of camps and before the charge of cavalry and the blaze of cannon. Many a time, the livelong night, under the solemn stars, equipped with assuaging stores, she threaded her way alone through the debris of carnage, seeking out the wounded among the dead, lifting her voice in song as a signal for any lingering survivor who might be near. Many a time she broke on the vision of mutilated and dying men, with the light of love in her eyes, a hymn of cheer on her lips, and unwearied ministrations in her hands, transfigured with courage and devotion, gleaming on their sight through the sulphurous flame of battle or the darkening mists of disease like an angel from heaven. Receiving the seeds of fatal illness from her exposures, she returned home to delight with her noble qualities all who knew her, to make a husband happy, and then to die a contented martyr. Meekly folding her hands, and saying: "Thanks, Father, for what thou hast enabled me to do, and still more for the new home to which thou art calling me now" she was gone. The cruel creed of superstition says: "Since she was a Universalist, having no part, by faith, in the mystic sacrifice of Christ, she is doomed to hell." But every attribute of God, every promise written by his own finger in the sacred instincts of our nature, as well as the cardinal teachings of the New Testament, assure us that as the victorious purity and devotedness of her soul bore her away from the tabernacle of flesh, the welcoming Savior said: "Come, thou blessed of my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared from the foundation of the world." And heaven swung wide its gate for her; and excited fancy conceives that, as she passed in, there was a gratulatory flutter of wings and waving of palms through the angelic ranks. In distinction from that hypothetical gate of blood, set up by a crude theology in one narrow place alone, what, then, are the real gates of heaven, which stand open throughout the realms of responsible being? All the causes which bring the will of man into consent with the will of God. Truth is the harmony of mind with the divine order; beauty, the harmony of taste with the divine symmetries; good, the harmony of volition with the divine ends. Everything that secures these for us is an avenue into the peaceful city of bliss. To be in heaven is to be a transparent medium through which the qualities of objects, the reflections of phenomena, the vibrations of aboriginal power, pass in blessed freedom, without deflection or jar, and on which the mysterious attraction of the Infinite exerts its supreme spell. To be there in a superlative degree is to have a mind which is an infinitesimal mirror of the All, and a heart responsive to that mind, every perception of truth in the realm of the intellect generating a correspondent emotion of good in the realm of affection. Not any forensic act of faith in atoning blood, but ingrained piety a modest renunciation before the reality of things is the grand gateway of souls to the blessedness and repose of God. Anselm, the great sainted Archbishop of Canterbury, said: "I would rather be in hell without a fault than in heaven with one." Can any defective technicality damn such a man? No; such a spirit carries and radiates heaven is itself heaven. That spirit is God himself in his creature, and can no more be imprisoned in hell than God can be. On the other hand, any professing Orthodoxist who, according to a horrible doctrine of the Calvinists in former days, should hope in heaven to obtain a sharper relish for his own joy by looking down on the tortures of the damned, and contrasting his blissful safety with the hopeless agony of their perdition, would find himself in hell. The infernal scenery, even there, would burst on his gaze, its atmosphere of pain reek around him, and the detestable turmoil of its experience rage in his breast. The selfishness of his character, in steep contradiction to the public disinterestedness belonging to the divine will, must invert every proper experience of heaven. Could any conventional arrangement, or accident of locality, save such a man, while his character remained unchanged? No; such a spirit carries and radiates hell, is itself hell. A Mohammedan author says of the seventy three sects into which his coreligionists are divided, that seventy two are wrong ways, terminating in eternal damnation; the remaining one alone, in which are the party of salvation, leads through the true faith into the City of Allah. The same unwise bigotry, the same unripeness of judgment, has been generally shown by Christians. It is time they were ashamed of it, and allowed their souls to mature and expand into a more liberal creed in fuller keeping with the hospitable amplitude of the righteousness and goodness of God. Everything that tends to bring the will of man into loving submission to the infinite Father, to mould the structure of character into correspondence with those established conditions of rightful being represented by the moral and religious virtues, is an open highway of salvation. And all the great cardinal ordinations of life do legitimately tend to this result. Therefore all these are gates of heaven. Some pass in through one of them, others through another; and by means of them all, it is decreed in the sovereign councils of the Divinity, as we believe, that, sooner or later, every intelligence shall reach the goal. First is the gate of innocence. Little children, spotless youths and maidens who have known no malice or guile, the saintly few among mature men and women who by the untempted elevation and serenity of their temper have kept their integrity unmarred and their robes unsullied, enter by this nearest and easiest gate. Borne aloft by their own native gravitation, we see the white procession of the innocent ones winding far up the cerulean height and defiling in long melodious line into heaven. The second gate is prosperity. Through this enter those to whom good fortune has served as the guiding smile of God, not pampering them with arrogance, nor hardening them with careless egotism, but shaping them to thankful meekness and generosity. Exempt from lacerating trials, every want benignly supplied, girt with friends, they have grown up in goodness and gratitude, obeying the will of God by the natural discharge of their duties, diffusing benedictions and benefits around them. To such beautiful spirits, saved from wrong and woe by the redemptive shelter of their lot, happiness is a better purgatory than wretchedness. The crystal stream of joy percolating throughout the soul cleanses it more perfectly than any flames of pain can. And so the virtuous children of a favored fortune, who have improved their privileges with pious fidelity, move on into heaven. Then the third gate is victory. This is more arduous of approach, and yet a throng of heroic souls, the very chivalry of heaven, press through it, wounded and bleeding from the struggle, but triumphant. These are they who have endured hardship with uncomplaining fortitude and fought their way through all enemies, seductions and tribulations. These are they who, armed with the native sacrament of righteousness, inspired with a loyal love, would never stoop their crests to wrong nor make a league with iniquity the conquering champions who tread down every vile temptation, ever hearing their Leader say, "In the world ye shall have trouble and sorrow; but be of good cheer, I have overcome the world." Penitence is another gate of heaven. By the instructions of Providence, by the natural progress of experience, the evolution of wisdom, a sinner may become aware of the ingratitude of his disobedience, ashamed of the odiousness of his guilt; be smitten with a regenerating love of truth, beauty, goodness, God; and, without waiting for the lash of an external judgment to drive him the way he should go, by voluntary preference may grieve over his folly and sin, and turn to his duty and his Savior. Then the blessed gate of a spontaneous repentance stands open before him; and through this hospitable entrance multitudes find admission to the divine home. Death often gives an otherwise unattainable deliverance, and so yields the poor victim of unhappy outer conditions a passage to heaven. It is a thought no less false than it is frightful, which represents death as the vindictive turnkey of the creation, at whose approach probation ends, and the shuddering convict is thrust into hell, the hopeless bolt dropping into its ward behind him. It is rather the divine messenger of deliverance for those who are borne down here under a fate too hard for them. Oh, what myriads of afflicted ones orphan children crushed by brutal treatment; poor seamstresses starving in garrets; men and women ground and grimed almost out of the semblance of humanity, in the drudgery and darkness of coal mines; hapless suicides, who have rashly fled from this step dame world, and whose alabaster forms, purpled with bruises, are laid on the dismal beds of brass in the morgue, where a ghastly light strains through the grates, and the crowd of gazers sweeps endlessly on; unsuccessful men of genius, unappreciated, neglected, cruelly wronged, their extreme sensitiveness making their lives a long martyrdom to these what a blessed angel is death, freeing them, setting them in a new state, starting them on a fresh career, amidst fairer circumstances, in front of better opportunities! To be saved, and in paradise, what is it but to be a pure instrument to echo the music of divine things? When the corruptible parts of the instrument are hopelessly discordant, or the circumstances of its place here are jangled with evils which it cannot overcome, then the disentanglement of the spiritual harp, and the translation of it to some finer sphere; where its free chords may ring their proper music clearly out, are a blessed redemption, making death itself a triumphant gate of heaven. Retribution is the remotest and most difficult of all the heavenly gates; and yet it is one, and one that is indispensable for many a neglectful, halting, and obstinate child of man. It is an extreme error to think punishment a gate of hell. It is rather a result of being already inside, and it legitimately serves as an outlet thence. Whatever may be the case with imperfect human rulers, in the government of God no punishment is ever inflicted for the sake of vengeance, a gratuitous evil. It is blasphemy to deem God vindictive. He always punishes for the sake of good, to awaken attention, produce insight and sorrow, and cause a reattunement of character and conduct with the laws of right, seen at last to be supremely authoritative and benignant, indissolubly bound up with the truest good of each and with the sole good of all. On every gate of hell may be written. Wherever retribution is actual, salvation is possible, equivalent to the great maxim of jurisprudence: Ubi jus ibi remedium! So, even the dark door of retribution, when men will advance by no other way, leads them to thoughtfulness, regret, and a redemptive readjustment of their passions and acts. Thus it becomes the ultimate gate of heaven. And, alas! what a dismal crowd of sufferers, refusing all shorter and happier ways, wait to be drawn through this torturing passage of remedial mercy! May the number entering by the other gates ever increase, and those entering this dwindle! And yet, may it forever stand open for the unhappy culprits who must be lost unless saved here! Besides all these gates, and commanding them all, there is one everywhere accessible, and never shut on any soul which has the grace to try it the omnipresent gate of resignation. Remove the conditions of resistance, or friction, by a total surrender of self will and an absolute acceptance of the Divine Will, and, it matters not where you are, the essence of perdition is destroyed in your soul. The utter abandonment of pride, a pious submission to the laws of things, a glad and grateful acquiescence in whatever the Supreme Authority decrees this is the unrestricted way into heaven which waits before the steps of all who will only exhibit the requisite spirit, and enter. Yes, let any being but banish from himself every vestige of personal dictation before God and unexactingly identify his desires with universal good; and, even though he stand on the bottom of hell, heaven will be directly before him through the open gate of resignation. For the organic attitude of a pure and loving submission tunes the discordant creature to that eternal breath of God which blows everywhere through the universe of souls, sighing until they conspire with it to make the music of redemption. CHAPTER V. RESUME HOW THE QUESTION OF IMMORTALITY NOW STANDS. IN THE leading nations of Christendom, the belief in the immortality of the soul has for some time past obviously been weakening. The number of those who assail the belief increases, and their utterances become more frank and dogmatic. A multitude of instances, clear to every careful observer, prove this. Especially at the present moment do examples of painful doubt, profound misgiving, bold and exultant denial, mocking flippancy and ridicule, abound on all sides, in private conversation, in public discussion, and in every form of literary activity. The hearty thoroughness and fervor with which the faith of the Church was once held have gone from whole classes. Subtle skepticism or blank negation is a common characteristic. Whether this tendency towards unbelief be sound or fallacious, temporary or permanent, it is at least actual. And it is important that we examine the causes of it, and test their logical validity while tracing their historic spread. Why, then, we ask, is the faith in a future life for man suffering such a marked decay in the present generation of Christendom? In the first place, the faith pales and dwindles, from the general neglect of that strenuous and constant cultivation of it formerly secured by the stern doctrinal drill and by the rigid supervision of daily thought and habit in the interests of religion. Never before were men so absorbed as now in material toil and care during the serious portion of their existence; never before so beset as now during the leisure portion by innumerable forms of amusement and dissipation. The habit of lonely meditation and prayer grows rarer. The exactions of the struggle of ambition grow fiercer, the burdens of necessity press more heavily; the vices and temptations of society thicken: and they withdraw the attention of men from ideal and sacred aims. More and more men seem to live for labor and pleasure, for time and sense; less and less for truth and good, for God and eternity. Absorbed in the materialistic game, or frittered and jaded in frivolous diversions, all eternal aims go by default. In what precious age was maddening rivalry so universal, giggling laughter so pestilent an epidemic, triviality at such a premium and sublimity at such a discount? But the things to which men really devote themselves dilate to fill the whole field of their vision. They soon come to disbelieve that for which they take no thought and make no sacrifice or investment. The average men of our time, as well those of the educated classes as those of the laboring classes, do not live for immortality. Therefore their faith in it diminishes. Our fathers, to a degree not common now, walked in mental companionship with God, practiced solitary devotion, shaped their daily feelings and deeds with reference to the effect on their future life. Thus that hidden life became real to them. Now the interests and provocations of the present world, concentrated and intensified as never before the strife of aspirants, the giddy enterprises of speculation and commerce and engineering, the chaos of caucuses and newspapers and telegraphs monopolize our faculties and exhaust our energies, leaving us but faint inclination to attend to the solemn themes of the soul and the mystic lures of infinity. To those crazed with greed, battling with rivals or sunk in debauchery, God naturally becomes a verbal phantom and immortality a foolish dream. There is nothing in mechanism and mammon worship, nothing in selfish sloth and laughter, nothing in cruel oppression and drudgery, to inspire belief in the deathless spirituality of man. Among a people prevailingly given over to these earthlinesses, faith in the transcendent verities of religion perforce dies out. In the long run the supreme devotion of the soul irresistibly moulds its faith. Christendom does not live in conscious sacrifices and aspirations for God and eternal life, but it lives chiefly for selfish power and knowledge, money, praise and luxury. Therefore in Christendom faith in immortality is decaying. But we believe this decay to be temporary, the necessary transition to a richer and more harmonic insight. The passing eclipse of faith in a future life is destined by concentrating attention on the present to develop its resources, realize the divine possibilities of this world, unveil all the elements of hell and heaven really existing here, and fully attune mankind to the conditions of virtue and blessedness now. When this shall have been done the tangential and fractional character of our experience will be so obvious, the inadequacy of the earthly state for the wants of our transcendent and prophetic faculties will be so urgent, and the supplementing adaptations of the entire unseen but clearly divined future to the craving parts in the present will be so manifest, that a complete revelation of immortality will break upon the prepared mind of the race. Then history will take a new departure in breathing communion with the whole creation. But infidelity to duty and privilege does not destroy the truth of duty and privilege. It only blinds the faithless eyes so that they cannot see the truth. If the immortality of the soul be a truth, the materialistic absorption of our life would blind us to it and make us deny it. Exclusive attention to the present would hide the future from us, although its dazzling prizes, scattered on the dark back ground of eternity, were burning there in everlasting invitation and hospitality. Thus, while the eager worldliness of our age practically vacates the faith in a future life, it does not logically disprove it; but leaves it for the ultimate test of the genuine evidence. The second reason for the apparent rapid crumbling away of the belief in immortality in Christendom is the recent wide diffusion of a critical knowledge of the comparative history of the opinions of all nations on the subject of a future life, revealing the mythological character common to them, and tracking them back to their origin in primitive superstitions no longer is their literal purport credible to any educated intelligence. In many works by theological writers, and by scientific writers, of free habits of thought, like Strauss and Spencer, collections have been made of the fancies and theories of mankind respecting the survival of the spirit and the conditions of its experience after the death of the body. These beliefs, it has been agreed, even among the most enlightened peoples, rest at last on the same basis with the crudest notions of the barbarians of the prehistoric period, namely, the spontaneous workings of raw instinct and imagination. Tracing the views of Christians as to the nature of the soul, and the life to come in heaven or hell, back to the rude conceptions of the naked savages who fashioned their idea of the ghost from the shadow or the reflection of the man, which was a picture or representative of him, yet without matter, and from the phenomena of dreams, in which they supposed the spirit of the man left him and went through the adventures of the dream and returned ere he awoke it has been asserted that every form of later faith, however refined and improved in details, yet really resting on such puerile fancies, such incompetent and absurd beginnings, is thereby discredited and must be rejected. Now, it is true that when we find among Christian believers, connected with the doctrine of a future life, an incongruous medley of physical imagery and gross imaginative pictures, conceptions of just the same character as the grotesque dreamings of the earliest savages and the elaborate mythology of subsequent priesthoods, we are required to treat the whole suppositious mass as mere poetry or superstition, and to dismiss it from our faith. But we are by no means justified in doing so with the essential fact itself of a future life. The essential fact, the assertion of immortality, may be true, even if the mythological dress be all fictitious. It does not follow that man has no surviving soul because the local heaven or hell, described by savage or priest as its residence, is unreal. It surely is no correct inference that the soul perishes with the body, because the barbarian mind generalized its idea of the soul from the phenomena of shadows, reflections, echoes and dreams. The critical scholar, who judges the case fairly, will correct the fallacies of the confused reasoning instinct, and relegate the mythology to its proper province, but reserve his judgment on the question itself of spiritual survival to be settled on the only appropriate evidence. Although the habit thus formed by the critical scholar, and by those who follow his authority, of sweeping away as wholly untenable so many varieties of speculation, and so many groups of images connected with the belief in a future life, has unquestionably contributed powerfully to foster complete disbelief in the doctrine itself, yet it is equally unquestionable that this process of negation is illogical. Many a true doctrine has been cradled in superstitions and absurdities. A faith supported by many classes of independent arguments is not overthrown by the disproof of one of those classes. It is as wrongful a procedure to deny the immortality of the soul because barbaric instinct grounded it on erroneous notions and enveloped it with falsehoods, as it would be to reject the established laws of gravitation and light and sound, for the reason that the various provisional theories, preceding the correct ones, were ridiculous mistakes. The problem to be solved is, Does the man who is now a soul in a body remain a soul when the body dissolves? The inadequacy or folly of a hundred provisional answers does not affect the final answer. Instead of denying immortality because the childish mind of the early world feigned impossible things about it, we should change the question by appeal to a more competent court, and inquire what Pythagoras, Augustine, Dante, Leibnitz, Fichte, Schelling, Swedenborg, Goethe, thought about it. It is a question for the consensus of the most gifted and impartial minds, the very Areopagus of Humanity, to decide. Furthermore, on a deeper inquiry, it seems clear that the real belief in immortality did not originate from the contemplation of the phenomena of dreams and shadows and echoes, but arose rather from the inexpugnable self assertion of consciousness, its inability to feel itself non existent. This persistency of consciousness, following it in all its imaginative flights of thought beyond the death of the body, was the cause of the mythological creativeness of the barbaric mind. And thus the elaboration of the imagery of ghosts and a ghostly realm was not the precursor, but the result of a belief in another life. The belief sprang directly out of the feeling of a continuous being unconquerably connected with human self consciousness, and is independent of the imagery in which it has been clothed, may clothe itself in endless forms of imagery, and survive their removal on the discovery of their incompetence. Besides, the savage himself was, after all, not so far out of the way. His mythology was not a mere fiction concreted into fact by superstition. He was on that track of analogy which, when cleared, will be, perhaps, the luminous highway to universal truth. The savage was obscurely conscious that the objects which appeared around him as solid material realities had their immaterial correspondences within his spirit. The tree, the stone, the flower, the star, the beast, the man, had within him correspondent mental images or ideas just as real as they, but without sensible qualities, and incapable of hurt. With creative wonder he recognized a symbol or analogy of this inner world in the shadow and the reflection. The shadow or the reflection is a representation of its original, but without material substance. See, it lies there, wavering, on the rock, or in the water. No arrow can pierce it, no club bruise it, no pestle pulverize it, no chemistry disintegrate it. It is an emblem of the immaterial and indestructible spirit, revealed in the outer world of matter, where everything changes and passes away except the noumena under the phenomena. No wonder it stirred the brooding fancy of the ignorant, but prophetic primitive man, and made it teem with poesy and personification. Freely, then, let us brush aside the mythological extravagance and irrational errors in the entire cosmopolitan doctrine of a future life, but beware of rejecting the fact itself of immortality until we have better grounds than have yet been afforded by the accumulating insight of literary history. As the world moves on, and the human mind develops with it, the crude must give way to the mature, and the false be replaced, not with vacancy, but with the true. The problem of the nature and destiny of the soul will not be solved by tearing away the fictitious drapery thrown around it, but by piercing to the roots of the reality within the drapery. And now we come to the third reason for the increasing doubt and decreasing faith in regard to a future life: that reason is that the form of the belief in it prevalent in Christendom has become incredible, and the rejection of the form has loosened the hold on the substance. The philosophic mind, which has attained to the idea of the infinite God, without body, or parts, or passions, omnipresent in his total perfection, can reason to the belief in a kindred immortality for its own finite being. But since our experience is here limited to the life now known, we are utterly without data or ability to image forth such a conception of immortality in any form of picture or mental scenery. There seem to be only three ways in which we can give imaginative representation of a future life. The first is the method of the universal barbarian mind, which paints the life to come as a shadowy reflex or copy of the present world and life, an unsubstantial, graspless, yet actual and conscious realm of ghosts, carrying on a pale and noiseless mimicry of their former adventures in the body. Holding fast to that clew of analogy which is the nucleus of philosophy in this view, but rejecting the rest as fantastic figment, we arrive at the next way in which those who are unwilling to leave their thoughts of the future life in empty rational abstraction, portray it in vivid concrete. This they do by means of the doctrine of a general bodily resurrection of the dead. It is a striking fact that four of the great historic and literary religions have taught the doctrine of immortality under the form of a physical resurrection, namely: Zoroastrianism, Judaism, Christianity, and Mohammedanism. It has been attributed, also, to the ancient religion of Egypt, but erroneously. Its belief there is a mere inference from facts which do not really imply it. The Egyptians plainly believed in a series of individual reincarnations, not in any general resurrection. But it is a sufficiently interesting and impressive fact that over one third of the human race have embodied their expectation of a future eternal life in this concrete and astonishing form. It has not rested on a basis of reason, but on one of asserted revelation and authority. It originated in the fact that the only life of which we now have any experience is a life in the body, and, therefore, this is the life which we instinctively love and prefer; also in the fact that this is the only mode of life which we are able to represent to ourselves in any satisfactory, apprehensible image. It then bolstered itself up by arbitrary theological theorizings, and proclaimed itself with sanctions of a pretended supernatural authority. Slowly the minds of its disciples were drilled to a familiarity with it, and to a habit of implicitly believing it, which grew strong enough to make them hold to it in spite of its difficulty as a sheer and violent miracle having no connection whatever with the natural order of things. Authority and passive habit long maintained the belief in unbroken sway. They still so support it in the Mohammedan world, where there is almost no science, but little skeptical thought, and a common uniformity of abject submission to the word of the Koran. But in Christendom it fares differently. Here, the knowledge of modern science and habits of free inquiry are almost universally diffused. The consequence is, since the chief Christian belief in immortality has been identified with the notion of a general physical resurrection of the dead at the last day, and since all philosophical and scientific thinking refutes that notion by setting its arbitrariness and monstrous abnormality in high and steep relief against the consensus of demonstrated knowledge and moral probability, that the popular belief of Christendom in immortality itself is depolarized and swiftly dropping into decay with a large class of persons. But this spread of doubt and denial, while a natural process, is yet an illogical and unnecessary one. The competent thinker will extricate the question of the immortality of the soul from its accidental entanglement with the doctrine of the resurrection, and, rejecting the latter as incredible, still affirm the former on its own independent grounds. To prove and illustrate these statements we must here give a little additional study, fresh and independent study, to the subject. The doctrine of the resurrection of the flesh is bound up with the whole fabric of the Catholic and Orthodox dogmatic theology of Christendom, and cannot be removed without logically shaking that system of belief into pieces. And yet the doctrine, as has been shown in a previous chapter, is unscriptural and of a purely pagan origin, the New Testament foretelling a resurrection of spirits from the underworld, not of bodies from the grave. It has no real analogies in the world, but is a figment of fancy, unsupported by reason on any authentic physical or moral grounds. It is, furthermore, a doctrine whose realization is impossible, because it is a self destroying absurdity. All that we need for demonstrating its absolute incredibility, is simply to ultimate its implications, carry it out in thought to the necessary results which its ignorant originators never foresaw. The doctrine of a physical resurrection presupposes that our race was originally intended to be immortal on earth, and that death was a penalty for sin. Fill out the theory. Adam and Eve, made male and female, were commanded to multiply and replenish the earth. Their descendants, doubling every twenty five years, would, after sixty or seventy generations had accumulated, have covered the whole earth so thickly that they would be packed in one immovable mass, the whole planet carpeted with their forms and paved with their upturned faces. Not an inch of room on the globe for any harvest to grow or any creature to move; the world, crowded and imbedded at every point with one continuous multitude of immortal human beings, would have then rolled around the zodiac, presenting this chronic and motionless picture, to all eternity! If it be maintained that had it not been for sin and its penalty, the successive generations would neither have died nor have remained forever on the earth, but would have been translated bodily to some other world, the absurdity just exposed is escaped only to introduce another one equally glaring. For in time, the entire solid contents of the globe would thus be removed, and the disappearance of our planet unhinge the solar system and produce a general cataclysm. The solid contents of the earth have been estimated at about thirty nine trillions of cubic feet. Seventy five doublings of the primal pair would reach to over seventy trillions of human beings, each containing more than a solid cubic foot. It is perfectly clear, therefore, in any view, that the only way in which the human race, with their reproductive constitution, could permanently inhabit the world is by the present system of successive births and deaths; a system, furthermore, which science shows to have been in working existence among the preceding races of creatures for innumerable ages before the mythical sin of Adam and Eve, with its mythical consequences. The fabulous scheme of an intended bodily immortality on the earth is a discordant and disagreeable one in every respect, asthetic, rational, and moral. It jars incongruously with the great order of nature and providence, which everywhere interpolates a night between two days, a sleep between two wakings, to keep the edge of consciousness fresh and the possibilities of pleasure alive. Imprisoned in this carcass of flesh with its ignoble necessities for endless ages, the contemplation of the fearful burden of monotony would be insufferable to any one who had thought the case out in all its details with vivid realization. And yet, so unthinking are most persons in regard to the conventional beliefs prevalent in society, Parsees, Jews, Christians and Mohammedans, professedly base their entire faith in immortality on this dogma with the resurrection involved in it. When carried out in its particulars by the imagination, the doctrine is self evidently untenable, contradictory to the essential facts of human nature under the given conditions of the material creation. It had its theologic birth in the speculations of the dualistic religion of Persia, whence it was first borrowed by the Jews, then secondarily adopted into Christianity, and thence finally impacted into the mongrel creed of Mohammed and his followers. It is philosophically irreconcilable with a pure monotheism; for, if God be infinite, no enemy could subvert his original scheme and force Him to an arbitrary miracle to restore it. It is a creaking and dissonant artifice, every way repugnant to all whose reason and sentiment have learned to love the smooth and continuous evolution of the order of the cosmos and the connected destinies of conscious beings. It is absolutely refuted by the double reductio ad absurdum shown above to be contained in it. Yet, while the grounds on which the common belief in a destined general resurrection of the dead rests have really lost their validity to the mind of the nineteenth century, the millions of Islam and Christendom retain the article unchanged in their creeds, and to question it is a heresy. No wonder skepticism flourishes and genuine faith decays. This clinging to an outgrown scheme is not only from the strong drift of a passive mental conformity, as the train of cars keeps on for some time after the dynamic locomotive has been taken off. Another reason is that the tenet is so centrally imbedded in the dogmatic ecclesiasticism that it cannot be extricated without involving all the associated dogmas. Therefore, one portion of this knowing generation repeat the formula and blink the difficulties, while another portion go over to open disbelief of any future life. The doctrine of the literal resurrection of the body from the grave is incredible to the educated and free intelligence of the age. In continuing to affirm it ecclesiastical Christendom brands itself with frivolity, not earnest enough to carry its thought in loyalty to truth as far as possible, or with hypocrisy, consciously dishonest to its doubts. It is a precious boon to be rid of such an unnatural and ominous belief as that in the final disemboguing of the dead by sea and land, the tumbling of the rocks, the falling of the stars, and the everlasting torture of the condemned in a prison of fire. Far better than any such doctrine is a calm confronting of the mystery of the future in its confessed secrecy as it is, and a peaceful resignation to the will of God in conscious ignorance and trust. And yet the believer in this scheme of colossal and ghastly necromancy, when confronted with the unanswerable arguments against it, is sometimes found clinging to it with willful tenacity, and bitterly complaining of those who refute it, that they would rob him of his faith and give him nothing in exchange. Suppose a man to believe that in the year nineteen hundred the earth will be exploded, and that all men, except himself and the little clique of his friends, will be strung for eternity on a red hot iron wire in empty space. Suppose that this horrid notion is clearly proved to him to be an error. Then, because he is not taught exactly what will happen in the year nineteen hundred, he, the unhappy man, assails his enlightener for having robbed him of his faith and given him nothing in exchange! Is not the truth of ignorance better than the falsity of superstition? Modest faith in front of the shrouded unknown can well stand comparison with the arrogant and incompetent exultation of fanaticism. In regard to that belated relic of the belief in magic, the doctrine of the literal resurrection of the dead in their fleshy bodies, let us gratefully wipe it all out and draw a long breath of relief. Let us rejoice to know that the will of God will be done in the fulfilling order of the universe, although we may now be ignorant of precisely what that will is. Believing the will of God to be good, whether revealed or concealed, we can afford to wait in peace, trying in the meantime to carry our individual character and our social state and experience here steadily toward perfection. Surely, that is the best way to prepare ourselves for whatever lies beyond. And yet we are not wholly shut up to mere blind faith. There is always some ground of moral truth in every widely extended dogmatic belief. In casting off the dogma we should carefully extract its moral purport and try to give it a more authentic setting. It will not be hard to do this with reference to the doctrine now under consideration. Obscure and complicated and baffling as the problem of our future destiny is, we can already trace many a line of light, many a prophetic signal and hint suggestive of what is ordained to happen to the individual and the race. Unquestionably, the genuine moral reason why the belief in the fleshly resurrection has been so general and tenacious is the two fold consideration: first; that we desire our future life to be an incarnate life because our experience makes that form of being realizable and precious to our imagination, while a disembodied ghostliness is, perforce, repulsively vacant and abstract; and, secondly because our affection and our imagination and our conscience profoundly crave the complete fulfillment of the scheme of the historic career of collective humanity in this world in some such manner, that here, on this dear old earth, the experience of our whole race may be brought to a clear epical unity, and may close with an illuminating justification of providence in the sight of all men, who shall then read the interpretation of their entire past, and see together eye to eye. Now we believe that the essence of this natural desire and this sublime hope is a divine prophecy which shall be fulfilled. We believe that in the very falsity of the doctrine of a carnal resurrection and judgment there lurks a truth yet to break out in overwhelming refulgence and perfectly satisfy every soul of man. But it will be brought about by the gradual culmination of the means and processes which God is now visibly carrying forward, and not by any sudden convulsion of miracle. The faculties of human consciousness in the individual and the race are in process of development. Also the transmissible sum of knowledge, on which those faculties employ themselves, is in process of rapid increase. The faculties of knowledge possessed by an accomplished master of literature and science now, contrasted with those of a cannibal savage of the pre glacial epoch, reveal an advance which hardly needs to be repeated in order to give us a comprehension of the whole experience of our kind on earth, quite ample to explain the facts of the case and solve the problem of our destiny. The grasp of our intelligence and the richness of our sensibility increase along the ages. The generalizations of our philosophy grow wider, the gropings of our sympathetic faith become vaster, the retrospection and the prevision of our science keener and longer and more inclusive, every generation. It is very significant that the further away we get from the prehistoric times the more we learn about them. Archaology is one of the latest and most swiftly enlarging branches of knowledge. Let the processes thus indicated go on, as they have gone on and are with accelerated pace going on, and the date is not beyond prophecy when all earthly and human secrets will be solved, and their mysteries be revealed, and the autobiographic book and volume of the world be opened, and the universal tribunal be set in the light of every life, and the irreversible judgment be declared, by the simple revelation of the truth of history in the web of its relations. For as every atom of matter is conjoined by all the laws of nature with all other atoms of matter, and the history of all their adventures is registered by their own indestructible vibrations in the elemental spaces of the universe where they run their career, so every identity of spirit is conjoined by all the laws of spirit with all other spirits, and all their deeds and sufferings are ineffaceably self registered in their reactions upon the authors, in the pictures they shed upon space, and the influences they set rolling through the eternity of successive souls and lives. All, then, that is needed for a perfectly vindicating judgment is the awakening of consciousness to the full view of the facts. And the tendencies are powerfully moving in that direction. What was the illumination of Swedenborg but the taking possession by his consciousness of the unconscious lower nervous system, with all its impacted ancestral experiences and wondrous relations with the visible and invisible worlds? And this may be repeated, by and by, and be perfected, and become common. What may result is as yet almost inconceivable. Let us trace a little, in this regard, the connections of the individual and the face, and follow out some of their implications. Suppose that in turn every child born begets or bears two children. Then in the thirtieth generation the transmitted qualities of spirit, nerve and blood, of the single original pair of parents will be represented in upwards of one thousand millions of descendants. It is clear from this law, allowing for all deviations from its numerical progression on account of inter marriages and of failures of offspring, how powerfully and swiftly the ever multiplying streams of consanguinity are spreading in every direction, affiliating and fraternizing the whole human race literally into one family, the innumerable rills of separate descent intermingling as they flow on, and finally diffusing over the earth in that oceanic unity of humanity, which, when full, will beat with the tidal pulse of a single sympathy. It is believed by many that no experience of any living creature is ever lost, but is by its own spontaneous and exact reflex vibrations either registered in the conscious memory or deposited in the unconscious organism in latent perfection of vestige and tendency. Memory is a faithful treasurer of all the stores of events. Suppose now that each parent bequeaths in the dynamic germ of his progeny the possibility of reviving into consciousness, when the proper conditions shall be furnished, the accumulated sum of all that has happened throughout the entire line of his ancestry. And again, imagine that all the souls composing the human race each of which is a substantial and indestructible entity, living incarnated over and over, and not a mere phenomenal process that vanishes into nothing with the dissolution of the body are so limited in number that they may be embodied on the earth in one generation, whose members shall be so conjoined in knowledge and fellowship that the life of the whole is concentrated in every one, and the life of every one mirrored in the whole. Now, finally, let it be conceived that this latest generation, including all who have ever inhabited the world, at last attain a development which enables them to grasp in distinct consciousness the collective sum of the organic heritage of the race, each one reading with perfect clearness in every particular the complete history of humanity from the beginning to the end, understanding all its causes, courses and consequences, and beholding with unspeakable delight the justification of the ways of God, the whole universe opening into free intercommunication, as if time and space were either no more or else their measures were of boundless subjective elasticity, every creature found in peace and rapture at the goal of his destiny. That, indeed, would be a realization of the day of judgment and the resurrection of the dead, but without a shock or a jar in the course of things which science reveals. The process of development now going on, if carried far enough, will naturally result in this or in something equivalent to it; while the notion of the vomiting forth of the accumulated dead from land and sea, at the blast of a trumpet, is a wild piece of imagery, borrowed from startling political phenomena, and applied with absurd incongruity to the chronic providence of God. The former view contains all the moral significance of the latter, but without its violation of probability. Nor is it all necessary that the climax shall be brought about of a simultaneous universal judgment, or of the appearance of our whole race on the earth at one time. The giving of the vision to souls subjectively, one after another, in the order of their attainment of the conditions, would meet every requirement of the case. To each one in turn, wherever he was, as the result broke on him in the ecstatic glory of all it means, the essence of the so long cherished faith of Christendom would be justified, and the providential theater and scenery of human experience would appear under its illumination as a dazzling vision of poetic justice perfect at every point. Marvelous and almost incredible as this scheme of thought may seem, it is not more mysterious in itself, or more staggering in its demand on our faith, than many things successively were which are now established beyond a doubt such as the telegraphic conversation of men through the ocean and around the globe; the seven hundred and thirty three thousand millions of ethereal vibrations in a second, which cause the report of the violet ray in consciousness; the transcendent disclosures of the spectrum analysis; the conception of gravitation as a force which holds all matter in unbroken union, and acts throughout the stellar universe with timeless simultaneity. It is in entire keeping with everything else in the workings of God, as demonstrated by science, on every hand, both in nature and history. The atomic theory and the nebular hypothesis, the chemical crucible and the mathematical calculus, the microscope and the telescope discover to our senses and our reason, wherever we look, facts as mysterious to the understanding, and as baffling to the imagination as any of the foregoing implications; showing us, in every department of nature and experience, the bewildering miracles of the infinitely little and the infinitely great exactly balanced and perpetually passing into one another. There is a third way, in addition to the ghost world of the primitive faith of barbarians, and the resurrection climax of the Christian and Parsee and Hebrew and Moslem creeds, in which the imagination of man, moved by his instinct and reason, has concreted the idea of a future life; namely, by the doctrine of transmigration. A striking feature and no slight recommendation of the foregoing view of the true meaning of the dogma of the resurrection is that it reconciles these two chief forms of the belief in immortal life. For resurrection and transmigration agree in the central point of a restoration of the disembodied soul to a new bodily existence, only the former represents this as a single collective miracle wrought by an arbitrary stroke of God at the close of the earthly drama, the latter depicts it as constantly taking place in the regular fulfillment of the divine plan in the creation. This difference is certainly, to a scientific and philosophical thinker, who reasons on the data of nature and experience and not on the dicta of theologians, strongly in favor of the Oriental theory. We have no experience whatever of any general resurrection, but all experience is full of the constant appearances of souls in freshly created bodies throughout the scale of sentient being. If our final future life is to be a bodily one there surely is a world of presumptive evidence, therefore, in behalf of transmigration as opposed to resurrection. Besides the various distinctive arguments of its own, every reason for the resurrection holds with at least equal force for transmigration. The argument from analogy is especially strong. It is natural to argue from the universal spectacle of incarnated life that this is the eternal scheme everywhere, the variety of souls finding in the variety of worlds an everlasting series of adventures, in appropriate organisms; there being, as Paul said, one kind of flesh of birds, another kind of flesh of beasts, another of men, another of angels, and so on. Our present lack of recollection of past lives is no disproof of their actuality. Every night we lose all knowledge of the past, but every day we reawaken to a memory of the whole series of days and nights. So in one life we may forget or dream, and in another recover the whole thread of experience from the beginning. In every event, it must be confessed that of all the thoughtful and refined forms of the belief in a future life none has had so extensive and prolonged a prevalence as this. It has the vote of the majority, having for ages on ages been held by half of the human race with an intensity of conviction almost without a parallel. Indeed the most striking fact, at first sight, about the doctrine of the repeated existences of the soul incarnated in different organisms, its form and experience in each successive embodiment being determined by its merits and demerits in the preceding ones, is the constant reappearance of the faith in it in all parts of the world, and its permanent hold on certain great nations. The ancient civilization of Egypt, whose contrasted splendors and horrors awaken astonishment more and more with each step in the progressive decipherment of its mysterious record, seems largely to have grown out of this faith. The swarming millions of India also, through the chief periods of their history, have lain under its spell, suffered their lives, wrought their great works of government, architecture, philosophy, and poetry, and in its belief meditated, aspired, and exhaled their souls. Ruder forms of it are reported among innumerable barbaric tribes. It played an important part in the speculations of the early Fathers of the Christian Church, and has often cropped out in the works of later theologians. Men of the profoundest metaphysical genius, like Scotus Erigena and Leibnitz, have affirmed it, and sought to give it a logical or scientific basis. And even amidst the predominance of skeptical and materialistic influences in Europe and America, at the present time, we constantly meet individuals with independent minds who earnestly believe the alluring dogma. For, to a large and varied class of minds, the doctrine holds a transcendent attraction as well as a manifold plausibility. Another striking fact connected with this doctrine is that it seems to be a native and ineradicable growth of the Oriental world; but appears in the Western world only in scattered instances, and rather as an exotic form of thought. In the growing freedom and liberality of thought, which no less than its doubt and denial, now characterize Christendom, it seems as if the full time had come for a greater mental and asthetic hospitality on the part of Christians towards Hindus. The advocates of the resurrection should not confine their attention to the repellent or the ludicrous aspects of metempsychosis, but do justice to its claim and its charm. The Pantheistic tendency which possessed and overwhelmed the Brahminic mind, shaping and tinging its views opened the whole range of sentient existences to an indiscriminate sympathy, and made the idea of transmigration natural, and more pleasing than repugnant. Furthermore, the Brahminic thinkers and sages were a distinct class of men whose whole lives were absorbed in introspective reveries and metaphysical broodings calculated to stimulate the imagination and arouse to the keenest consciousness all the latent marvels and possibilities of human experience, thus furnishing the most favorable conditions for exactly such a belief as that of transmigration, an endless series of ever varying adventures for the imperishable soul. And the vast swarms of the common people in the East are the passive followers of this high caste of thinkers, abjectly accepting what they teach. Accordingly, the mysterious doctrine of the metempsychosis has held the entire mind, sentiment and civilization of the East, through every period of its history, as with an irreversible spell. The persistent practice of various modes of profound and rhythmical breathing by which the Brahmins perfect their respiration, and the keen and sustained concentration of their attention on their inner states, tend at the same time to heighten the richness and intensity of the cerebral nerves, to unify the connections of the lower nerve centres with them, and to fuse the unconscious physiological processes with the conscious psychological processes. Then the persevering disuse and suppression of the action of their outer senses cause the objects of the material world around them to seem more vague and dreamy than the impressions of the ideal world within. And so the earth with all its affairs seems an illusion, while their own unsought trains of thought, feeling and imagery the rich mental panorama of pictures and events, are taken for a series of substantial revelations of the universe of being. An irresistible belief in preexistence, immortality and transmigration, results. On the contrary, in the Western world, the characteristic tendencies are all different. Pantheistic theories are rarely held, and the dreams and emotions which those theories are fitted to feed are foreign and repulsive. An impassible barrier is imagined separating humanity from every other form of being. Speculative reason, imagination and affection, are chiefly employed in scientific studies and social pursuits, or personal schemes, external rather than internal. This absorption in material things and evanescent affairs engenders in the spirit an arid atmosphere of doubt and denial, in which no efflorescence of poetic and mystic faiths can flourish. Thus, while the outward utilities abound, hard negations spread abroad; and living, personal apprehension of God, of an all pervasive Providence, and of the immortality of the soul in any form, dies out either in open infidelity or in a mere verbal acceptance of the established creed of society. Consequently, to the average mind of the modern Western world, the doctrine of transmigration remains a mere fancy, although, as we shall immediately see, it has a strange poetic charm, a deep metaphysical basis, and a high ethical and religious quality. The first ground on which the belief rests is the various strong resemblances, both physical and psychical, connecting human beings with the whole family of lower creatures. They have all the senses in common with us, together with the rudiments of intelligence and will. They all seem created after one plan, as if their varieties were the gradulations of a single original type. We recognize kindred forms of experience and modes of expression in ourselves and in them. Now the man seems a travesty of the hog, the parrot, the ape, the hawk, or the shark; now they seem travesties of him. As we gaze at the ruminating ox, couched on the summer grass, notice the slow rhythm of his jaw, and the wondering dreaminess of his eyes, it is not difficult to fancy him some ancient Brahmin transmigrated to this, and patiently awaiting his release. Nor is it incongruous with our reason or moral feeling to suppose that the cruel monsters of humanity may in a succeeding birth find the fit penalty for their degradation and crime, in the horrid life of a crocodile or a boa constrictor. The conception of a series of connected lives also furnishes a plausible explanation for many mysteries in our present experience. Reference is made to all that class of phenomena covered by the Platonic doctrine of reminiscence. Faces previously unseen, and localities unvisited, awaken in us a vivid feeling of a long familiarity with them. Thoughts and emotions, not hitherto entertained, come to us as if we had welcomed and dismissed them a thousand times in periods long gone by. Many an experience, apparently novel and untried, makes us start as at the shadowy reminder of something often known before. The supposition of forgotten lives preceding the present, portions of whose consciousness reverberate and gleam through the veils of thought and sense, seems to throw satisfactory light on this strange department of experience. Much more weighty and penetrative, however, than the foregoing considerations is the philosophical argument in behalf of transmigration, drawn from the nature of the soul. Consciousness being in its very essence the feeling of itself, the conscious soul can never feel itself annihilated, even in thought it only loses the knowledge of its being when it lapses into unconsciousness, as in sleep or trance. The soul may indeed think of its own annihilation but cannot realize the thought in feeling, since the fainter emotional reflex upon the idea of its destruction is instantly contradicted and over borne by the more massive and vivid sense of its persistent being in immediate consciousness. This incessant self assertion of consciousness at once suggests the idea of its being independent of the changing and vanishing body in which it is temporarily shrined. Then the conception naturally follows that the soul, as it has once appeared in human form, so it may reappear indefinitely in any of the higher or lower forms of being which compose the hierarchy of the universe. The eternity of the soul, past and future, once accepted by the mind, leads directly to the construction of the whole scheme of metempsychosis an everlasting succession of births and deaths, disembodiments and reembodiments, with their laws of personality and fortunes of time and space weaving the boundless web of destiny and playing the endless drama of providence. But the strongest support of the theory of transmigration is the happy moral solution it seems to give to the problem of the dark and distressing inequality and injustice which otherwise appear so predominant in the experience of the world. To the superficial observer of human life the whole scene of struggle, sin and sorrow, nobleness and joy, triumph and defeat, is a tangled maze of inconsistencies, a painful combination of violent discords. But if we believe that every soul, from that of the lowest insect to that of the greatest archangel, forms an affiliated member of the infinite family of God, and is eternal in its conscious essence, perishable only as to its evanescent disguises of unconscious incarnation; that every act of every creature is followed by its legitimate reactions; that these actions and reactions constitute a law of retribution absolutely perfect; that these souls, with all their doings and sufferings are interconnected with one another, and with the whole, all whose relationships copenetrate and cooperate with mutual influences whose reports are infallible and with lines of sequence that never break, then the bewildering maze becomes a vindicated plan, the horrible discord a divine harmony. What an explication it gives of those mysteries of evil, pain, sorrow and retribution, which often wrap the innocent and the wicked in one sad fate, if we but see that no individual stands alone, but trails along with him the unfinished sequels of all ancestral experience, and, furthermore, is so bound up with his simultaneous race that each is responsible for all and all for each, and that no one can be wholly saved or safe until all are redeemed and perfected! Then every suffering we endure for faults not our own, the consequence of the deeds of others, assumes a holy light and a sublime dignity, associating us with that great sacrament of atoning pain whereof the crucified Christ is not the exclusive instance but the representative head. The above translation of the ecclesiastical doctrine of the resurrection into a form scientifically credible, and reconciled with the immemorial tenet of transmigration, may seem to some a very fanciful speculation, a mere intellectual toy. Perhaps it is so. It is not propounded with the slightest dogmatic animus. It is advanced solely as an illustration of what may possibly be true, as suggested by the general evidence of the phenomena of history and the facts of experience. The thoughts embodied in it are so wonderful, the method of it is so rational, the region of contemplation into which it lifts the mind is so grand, the prospects it opens are of such universal reach and import, that the study of it brings us into full sympathy with the sublime scope of the idea of immortality and of a cosmopolitan vindication of providence uncovered to every eye. It takes us out of the littleness of petty themes and selfish affairs, and makes it easier for us to believe in the vastest hopes mankind have ever known. It causes the most magnificent conceptions of human destiny to seem simply proportional to the native magnitude and beauty of the powers of the mind which can conceive such things. After traversing the grounds here set forth we feel that if the view based on them be not the truth, it must be because God has in reserve for us a sequel greater and lovelier, not meaner than our brightest dream hitherto. The worthiest theory of the fate of man which the spirit of man can construct must either be a revelatory divination of the truth, or an inadequate attempt to grasp the design of the Creator in its true glory. It is impious and absurd to hold that man can think out a scheme superior to the one God has decreed. And it seems equally unreasonable to suppose that the scheme of God for the future stages of our career is one which has no hints in our present experience. Certainly it appears more likely that the sequel will be discovered by the logical completion of the inwrought order which has been slowly unfolding from the first. And what do history and prophecy show more plainly than the tendency to a convergence of all humanity in every man? Spreading consanguinity in descent and growth of sympathetic knowledge both point to this. Perfect this in each man, and illuminate his whole organism and its relations with adequate intelligence, and we have a true resurrection, not indeed of decayed bodies from the grave, but of historic states of consciousness from their latent embedment in the nervous system, and their undulatory record in the dynamic medium of the creation. Our senses now convert certain sets of undulations of the ethereal medium into perceptions of light, heat, sound, and so interpret their contents and extract their tidings. It is not impossible that in a coming stage of development we may obtain additional senses; our spirits may command the means of translating into correspondent states of consciousness all the other modes of vibration of the ethereal medium, and grasp the keys of unlimited knowledge deciphering every secret wherever they go. The whole universe may be a palimpsest preserving the inscriptions of all deeds, and every soul may be a reagent gifted with the power to recover and read its own. As each generation is the inheritor of the preceding ones, all of which from the first prolong their existence into the last in unbroken continuity of historic conduct and responsibility, justice may at the ripened period be naturally summed up without any miracle. We all are projections of our ancestors. They properly in us suffer and enjoy in accordance with what has flowed from their lives. The whole of this, lighted up with consciousness at last, may be the real meaning of the burden of the spirit given to the apostle Paul, but misinterpreted by him into the mechanico scenic scheme of the Judaized Christian Church. For when the mighty influx struck the brain of the persecuting zealot, revolutionizing his life, it came into connection with all the inflamed theories and convictions so deeply drilled therein by his Pharisaic education. These convictions, partly of a mere local and transient character, associated with legends of Adam and Abraham and the under world and Christ and the sky, mixed with the true and universal import of the higher inspiration now given him, caused his misconstrual of its message, and stamped the purely human and providential meaning of the doctrine of the resurrection with the rabbinical die of a politico mythological dogma. If this were so, it is not the only instance in which the preexistent discolorations in the mind of an inspired prophet have refracted the truth of his burden into distorted error and bequeathed the task of a future rectification when more light shall have come. In the next place, we come to the fourth reason for the growing doubts and disbelief of our day in immortality. It is the remarkable diffusion of the habits of thought engendered by the study of materialistic science. The authority of physical science has been rapidly encroaching on and displacing the authority of the church theology and sectarian creeds. Belief in invariable laws has undermined belief in miracle and supernatural revelation. Those who had been taught that the resurrection of Christ was the only adequate proof of the immortality of the soul, learning to deny the former, have naturally proceeded to question the latter. For in such matters the real implications of logic are little noticed. The religious skepticism nourished by physical science is in all respects really as irrational and baseless as it is actual. For example, the resurrection of Christ, admitting it to be a fact, did not create the immortality it was considered to illustrate. If he rose, it was because men are immortal, and men are not immortal because he rose. If he did not rise, men are immortal all the same, provided human immortality be a truth; if it be not a truth, the resurrection of Christ would be an isolated abnormal event without any logical validity on the question. The truth or falsity of human immortality, therefore, is a question of the creative plan of God and the essential nature of man, to be decided on the intrinsic evidences, and cannot logically be affected one way or the other by any individual historic occurrence limited to a certain time and place. Yet it is a practical necessity that any great popular faith, if it rests on authority, will be shocked and weakened by everything which shocks and weakens that authority, no matter how adventitious it is. If one cannot believe in the preternatural resurrection of Christ, that surely is no valid reason for denying the natural immortality of the soul, but only a good reason for seeking to learn if there be not adequate grounds for this faith quite independent of scripture text and priestly assertion. Precisely the same reasoning holds in relation to the doubts about spiritual realities bred in the minds of those whose studies are conversant exclusively with material realities. The professors of physical science, thoroughly familiarized with things which combine and dissolve, often come to fancy that everything is phenomenal and evanescent, that there is no immaterial substance, that spirit is not entity but process, that thought and feeling and will are mere transient functions of transient matter. Thus all faith in the individuality of mind is pulverized at the fountain head. There can be no question but that such is the common influence of a constant contemplation of the physical aspects alone of physical things. Mentality, consciousness, is regarded as the prismatic bow in the cloud, a spectral show that appears and vanishes, with no permanent substance. At the present time, in Christendom, the one conquering power in literature, the one fascinating absorption of thought in society, is that connected with the cultivation of physical science. Its prestige is overwhelming. Its prevalent methods and results give a materialistic turn of interpretation to the popular mind upon all subjects. The direct consequence, among that class of minds who put physical science above theology, is the spreading disavowal of all belief in the immortality of the soul. The fallacy is obvious, and the remedy is simple, if there be at hand but enough of modest candor and patience fairly to weigh the facts of the case in the scales of a sound logic. In the first place, by the very structure of our being, by the very necessity of our experience, the universe is divided into two irreconcilable classes of realities, namely, spiritual subjects and material objects. Sensations, perceptions, emotions, thoughts, volitions, all qualities of mind, all states of consciousness, are absolutely immaterial. They are more real to us, that is to say, they more inexpugnably assert and maintain themselves, than material things do: and it is only hopeless vulgarity and incompetence of thinking which can ever confuse or merge them with material things. Matter is that which proves itself to spirit by the effects it produces on spirit. Spirit is that which is its own evidence. The center of consciousness in us is its own proof of its own being, and all that occurs within it is its own proof, and is unsusceptible of any other or foreign demonstration. Hope, fear, love, imagination, reason, are absolutely unthinkable as forms of material substance, however exquisitely refined and exalted. There is no conceivable community of being between a sentiment and an atom, a gas and an aspiration, an idea of truth in the soul and any mass of matter in space. Each of these facts, conscious thought and material extension, has its own incommunicable and incomparable sphere of being and laws of action, which can be confused only by ignorance and sophistry. So clear has this become to all profound reflection, that the ablest supporters of the theory of evolution, with all their preponderant bias in favor of physical science, declare, in the words of Herbert Spencer, that if compelled to choose between thinking of spirit in the terms of matter and thinking of matter in the terms of spirit, they should take the latter alternative and give an idealistic interpretation to nature rather than a materialistic interpretation to the soul. It is logically clear, then, despite the fallacious influences of habit to the contrary, that no progress of the physical sciences, no conceivable amount of induction and generalization as to the composition or decomposition of material bodies, can throw any new light or darkness on the nature and destiny of the immaterial soul. The incessant flux of phenomena constructing and destroying apparent things, though studied till the observing eye sees nothing but mirage anywhere, has nothing to do with the steady persistence of spiritual identity. To force it to discredit our claim to a divine descent and an endless inheritance is a glaring sophism. The question must be snatched back from the assumption of the retort and crucible, the observational and numerical methods of the physical realm, and relegated to the legitimate tests of the moral and metaphysical realm. Again, there is furnished in the results of the study of physical science itself, as pursued by its most gifted masters, a glorious overthrow and neutralization of the moral and religious doubts called out in its shallower votaries by their absorption in its more superficial phases. The scientific men of the most profound intellectual power and the most brilliant original genius, the supreme heads of chemistry, dynamics and mathematics, have applied to the phenomena of the material creation modes of observation and instruments of reasoning before whose compelling efficacy the whole frowning vastitude of the outer universe melts into ideal points of force and forms of law. Everything in time and space is reduced to molecular vibrations, regulated by the mental conceptions of number, weight and measure. The reasonings of such men as Oersted and Faraday on electricity and magnetism; of Sir William Thomson and Clerk Maxwell on thermodynamics; the theories of the greatest mathematicians, grasping all things in heaven and earth with their irresistible calculus, literally using infinites as toys, creating imaginary quantities, and, going through certain operations with them, actually discovering new truths in the solid domain of reality yield conceptions of order, beauty and sublimity, and emotions of wonder, awe and delight, nowhere else surpassed. They exalt the spectacle of nature into a vision of poetic intelligence, and show the theorizing mind of man to be akin to the creating mind of God. Thus, if skepticism as to the deathless royalty of soul is bred in the physicist who constantly stoops with the scalpel and the microscope, it is offset in him who, with as steady a judgment, soars to the contemplation of the ethereal medium with its lines of force traversing immensity and vibrating timelessly along their whole length, loaded, for those who can interpret them, with tidings of all that happens. Instead of spirit being materialized, matter is spiritualized and nature transfigured into the ideal home of ideal entities. Dumas, years ago, asserted that hydrogen gas is but an etherealized metal. Just now, it is said, Pictet has succeeded, under a pressure of six hundred and fifty atmospheres, in actually crystallizing oxygen and hydrogen. One has only to read such papers as those of Stallo on the fundamental concepts of science to learn that if matter or mind is ever to be lost, it will not be mind. But there remains a more direct and more important way of correcting the dismal or defiant doubts of immortality caused by the inferior phases of materialistic study; and that is, by bringing up to a correspondent fullness and intensity the counter activity of the ideal powers. Let justice be done to the subject as well as to the object. Over against the watching of clouds and waves, the sorting of herbs, the weighing of metals, the measuring of quantities, bring up the exercise of the mind on the treasures of qualitative substance in its own proper sphere of reason and love and faith. Admire the beautiful, love the good, obey the true, worship the right, aspire to the highest, subordinate or sacrifice everything base or wrong in a generous service of duty, and thus nourish a consciousness of those ontological relations by which the soul is rooted in the Godhead, and stimulate that intuitive efflorescence of faith which grows out of progressive fulfillment and which prophecies perpetuity of fulfillment. To say the least, the subject is as real as the object, the contemplating faculty as valid as the phenomenon it confronts. The teachings of the soul rightly construed are as authentic as the teachings of nature. And, some day in the future, a complete system of truth developed from the central principle of the one by the subjective method will be found to correspond perfectly with the complete system of truth developed by the objective method from the central principle of the other. As the objective scientific principle is the persistence of force, the subjective scientific principle is the potential infinity of individual spirit, each one the equivalent of the all. What else than this can be the ultimate meaning of the primal, universal, indestructible antithesis or dual classification of being, the ego and the non ego, self and not self, the former including each individual in his own apprehension, the latter including all besides? There is a philosophical authority which, for those incompetent to judge for themselves, should properly take the place vacated by the ecclesiastical authority, which, in our day, is plainly on the wane. Multitudes no longer believe in the immortality of their souls on the ground of the resurrection of Christ, or the assertion of Scripture or creed. Shall they, then, deny it altogether because the materialistic band clamor that it is a delusion, and they themselves see no sufficient evidence for it? There is a more appropriate alternative. Many theories in natural philosophy have been exploded by the proof of their absurdity, and the correct explanations are accepted on trust by the multitudes incompetent to master their logical and mathematical grounds. Very few understand the proofs of the chief laws of nature, but the vast majority of men implicitly trust the assertions of those who do know them. In like manner there is a legitimate sphere for authority in moral and religious beliefs; only it should be the authority of the competent and disinterested. Now, it is a fact that the very greatest philosophers who have ever lived, the preeminently imperial thinkers, such as Plato, Aristotle, Aquinas, Anselm, Hegel, and the resplendent group of their peers, have asserted as a necessary principle the real being and eternal substantiality of the soul. Besides all the combinations of matter that dissolve, all the phenomena that pass, they affirm the existence of enduring entities, individual spirits, thinkers conscious of their thoughts. In central calm, far within the struggle and vex of the rolling elements, throned in its own serene realm of law, lives the free, conscious soul, and will live eternally, actualizing its potentialities. Nothing can disintegrate it, because it is not an aggregate but a unity, not a quantitative mass of matter, but a spaceless monad of power. It is a closed circuit of thinking activity, impenetrable to everything else. Spirits are the only solids, matter being endlessly penetrable and transmutable. We are all obliged to think of ourselves as entities, and not as mere phenomenal series of states. There must be a substratum for the affections of consciousness. All changes are changes of something. It is true there is a mystery involved here which no words can make clear; yet the more deeply one thinks and feels the more intense will be his assurance that there is something in him which thinks and feels, or rather that he himself is a something which thinks and feels. The best conception we can get of the soul is that it is a subject which is its own object and a mirror for the inner reflection of all other objects. God is not an object, because He is the actualized infinite Subject. His thoughts are concrete creations, the objective realities of the universe phenomenal and substantial. We are actually finite subjects, but with a potential infinity, patterned in free correspondence with Him. Our thoughts are subjective reflections of His, modified by the contents of our facultative constitution and the peculiarities of our historic experience. What constitutes my soul is the potentiality of all states of consciousness, actual and latent, past, present and future. It reveals itself to me, so to speak, in my actual thoughts and feelings. So far as these are true and good, they correspond with and represent the will of God, and must share the fortunes of the Divine Reality with which they are implicitly joined. Then my soul cannot be annihilated unless the will of God is so far annihilated. But God is infinite being, and there is nothing outside of or counter to infinite being to destroy it. All evil is but defect or negation. I am only in so far as I am positive reality. Nothing of me, therefore, can ever perish, except my imperfections; and the thought of the perishing of imperfections is a thought of joy. Welcome, then, be the approach of death which shall cleanse and dislimit me into unimprisonable divineness of being, the crystalline sphere of pure intelligence and immortality! The only real proof of immortality in the sight of the intellect, is the perception of the necessity of self determining entities as the causes and grounds of the facts of experience. A series of states implies something of which they are states. There seems to be no possible explanation or understanding of the phenomena which confront our experience without the conception of ultimate individualities, indestructible subject objects, centers of spiritual activity, monistic selfhoods, conscious egos, each of which distinguishes itself from every other, and contrasts itself with the All. Now it is claimed that every thinker who reaches the maturest stage of thought attains to this insight. It is the imperial mark of a certain stage of knowledge. Here the supreme thinkers, sceptered with final perception of the truth of their own eternity, sit at ease, enthroned in the serene and lucid realm of law, beyond the reach of the dark tempest of cavils and doubts. And there is a larger company who on easier terms have attained the same result. For, without this wearisome metaphysical hewing of conclusions from the quarries of ontology, the good and pure, who, in their loving obedience and aspiration, keep the harmonic quickness and innocence of their intuitions uninjured, also have an unshaken assurance that they live in God and shall share his life forevermore. The mystics of every period seem in feeling to have an immediate grasp of all that the greatest philosophers have painfully conquered by speculation. These two classes may claim to possess direct certitude of eternal life. All others must either attain to the stage of development and mount of vision of these, or receive the faith on their authority, or else be subject to doubt and unbelief. To accept the doctrine of the immortality of the soul on the authority of the wisest philosophers and the purest saints, is a legitimate procedure perfectly in keeping with what the human race does in all other provinces of thought where it is incapable of proving what its teachers have demonstrated, but can easily appreciate and make practical application of the truths they have affirmed. The great laws of science in all its domains are scientifically mastered by very few, but their empirical rules are implicitly followed by the common multitude. One form or receptacle of authority after another may be superseded; but authority itself always remains. And the true course for those to pursue who have come to repudiate the authority of scripture, or church creed, or the resurrection of Christ, as a proof of the future life of man, is not at once to abandon all belief in a future state, but to accept the guidance of the most competent independent thinkers in place of that of the most arbitrary dogmatists. For unto all who do not arrogate to themselves a transcendent competency to judge, the general consensus of the thought and feeling of the world, clarified and interpreted by the fittest few, will always be a grateful ground of reliance and trust. And the verdict thus revealed is unequivocally in favor of the doctrine of immortality. There can be no changes independently of something which is changed. Amidst all the changeable in us which passes and is forgotten, there is something which stays and is inexpugnable. It is our identity. That which appears in consciousness first, which recurs oftenest, and which persists longest, is the most valid object of belief. And what is that but the very consciousness, or the subject as its own object? Surely, the one invariable accompaniment of all the shifting states of consciousness is the bare essential consciousness itself: this is, so to speak, the unitary vessel containing all their varieties. This unquestionably exists now. The burden of proof, then, as Bishop Butler long ago showed, is on those who affirm its destruction in the article of death. Consciousness is purely immaterial, as every one who has passed beyond the most ignorant and childish stages of thought must see. Merely because it is, in our present experience, associated in time and space with a material organism, therefore to declare that it is a dependent production of matter, or a transient concomitant of the transient body, is a gratuitous assertion with not one scintilla of evidence. Even, for the moment, admitting it to be true that no argument of irresistible cogency has yet been advanced to prove the immortality of the soul, it is certain that no proof has ever been given of its mortality. The very utmost that can be claimed by any skeptic who fairly understands the whole case, is that the different arguments, for and against, offset one another, and leave the question in a neutral balance of suspense, just where it was before the debate began. Many persons hold that the counter reasonings do thus balance and annul one another. For them the problem remains to be decided on other grounds than those of the logical disputation which has proved inadequate to its settlement. These other grounds are considerations of congruity, probability, the prophetic preparations and demands of present experience. What sort of a figure would the segments which we now see, compose, if they were completed? What in the hidden future portions of our destiny would be harmonic and complementary as related with the parts here experienced? When the other modes of inquiry are abandoned this mode remains. Its teachings are rich and impressive in proportion to the greatness of the faculties and the wealth of knowledge and love brought to its consideration. And thus we come face to face with the fifth and last cause of the failing faith in immortality confessed to characterize the present day. That cause is the common inability to realize in the thoughts of the mind, and to hold in the faith of the feelings, a conception so vast, so mysterious, so remote from the usual routine of the selfish trifles and petty notions which monopolize the powers and fritter down the faculties of the average people of the nineteenth century. The battle of sensualism, the scramble over material interests, the wearing absorption in the small and evanescent struggles of social rivalry, the irritated attention given to the ever thickening claims of external things, the pulverizing discussions of all sorts of opinions by hostile schools, are fatal to that concentrated calmness of mood, that unity of passion, that serene amplitude of intellectual and imaginative scope, that docile religious receptiveness of soul, requisite for the fit contemplation of a doctrine so solemn and sublime as that of immortality. The grade of thought and scale of emotion ordinarily characteristic of ordinary men are utterly out of keeping with the inexpressible grandeur of themes like that of the divine kinship and eternity of the soul. The reason and fancy, before they can be competent to appreciate such truths, must be trained in the study and worshipful meditation of subjects of commensurate mystery and sublimity. It is no wonder that when minds and hearts familiar only with houses and clothes and food, the trivial gossip and vanity of the hour, are summoned to grasp the idea of spiritual survival and an everlasting destiny of conscious adventures, they are overwhelmed and helplessly fail to represent to themselves the possibility of any such truth. This cause of doubt is very prevalent and effective; for ever more and more in our age conscious attention is turned away from states within and fixed upon things without. The natural consequence is that the objective world is arrogating the first place in consciousness, and the subjective world is sinking into the secondary rank. Whatever exalts the object at the expense of the subject tends to materialism, unbelief in the separate being of the spirit. On the other hand whatever gives the panoramic passage of subjective states in the soul greater apparent vividness and tenacity than belong to outer phenomena, tends to produce faith in the independence and immortality of the spirit. Hence it is quite to be expected that until our modern concentration on objective toil and study and amusement reaches its destined climax and begins the return career to subjective reason and feeling, the skepticism of the age will increase. Meanwhile the remedy for the evil is, first, to perceive it, and then, to cultivate the kinds of experience calculated to neutralize it. For the logical invalidity and fallaciousness of the doubts concerning immortality, arising from the immense disparity of such a belief with the mental habits of ignorant earthlings and social parasites, appear from the fact that there are others with whose experience and thought the doctrine has no such disparity, but for whose spiritual range and haunt it is as natural to believe it as to breathe. And, in explaining the destiny of man, it is legitimate to take the most finished and furnished specimens, not the abortive ones. There are grounds of knowledge, domains of imagination, heights of nobility, familiar to the most exalted characters, perfectly cognate and harmonious with the conception of eternal life, and making the faith in it fully as credible as the transcendent truths of science and philosophy which have been actually demonstrated. Those who are familiar only with the little affairs of sense, in narrow bounds of time and space, may well gasp in despair and denial when the bewildering contents of the doctrine of immortality are held before them; but for all who have mastered what science reveals of the objective world of nature, and what literature records of the subjective world of soul, both these spheres furnish ample illustrative examples and data to make the faith in every way congruous with what else they know, and as easy as it is pleasing to receive. Assuredly the belief resulting in this latter class from their positive perception and correspondent desire and persuasion, are, on every ground of reason or moral fitness, more than a counterbalance for the unbelief resulting in the former class from their negative experience and incompetency. If we sought to estimate the possibility and destined fulfillment of human nature when all its conditions shall have been perfected, should we choose for the basis of our judgment the incapacity of the lower specimens of man? or the capacity of the higher? After considering the chief achievements of human genius, the mysterious powers of the human soul now, the doctrine of immortality does not seem too great and wonderful for belief; but, on the contrary, it appears the coherent complement of the facts of the present. Nothing can be more marvelous or imply greater glory for the destiny of the individual being than the fact that each consciousness is to itself the antithetical equivalent or balance of the totality of being beside; since the whole universe, all other beings, God himself, are known to the individual consciousness only as revealed in itself through its personal faculties. The slightest change in the subject is reported by a correspondent change in objects. Heighten the internal activities of the soul to a certain pitch, and the convictions they engender will be so intense, and the experience so absorbing, as irresistibly to sweep away all opposing doubts and fill every craving with the triumphant flood of life. What overwhelming revelations of the providence of God and eternal life, crowding the cosmos at every point with the workings of poetic justice, may thus be made to prepared spirits, only those who receive them know. Paul said he was caught up into the third heaven and heard unspeakable words. It is to be believed that such visions, while often illusory, are sometimes genuine. A test to discriminate the spurious and the authentic will one day be secured. Meanwhile it is either a faithless faintheartedness or a vulgar arrogance to omit from the data of our expected fate those thoughts, which, though beyond the reaches of our souls, nevertheless irresistibly allure our attention and enchain our affection; ideas belonging to our nature, though transcending our experience, and, while surpassing our faculties, still attracting us to our destiny. What are presentiments but divine wings of the spirit fluttering toward our unseen goal? Again, the great metaphysicians, who have elaborated the idealistic philosophy in so many forms, exhibit the mind of man to us as superior to the cosmic spectacle it contemplates projected in immensity. They portray the material creation as a phantasmal show of mind, a phenomenal process and aspect of spirit, indissoluble centers of consciousness alone having solid verity and stay, while matter and force and times and places whirl and pass, combine and dissolve. Likewise the mathematicians, with their mighty calculus, translate all quantities and qualities, all objects and operations, into numerical symbols, and with these intellectual toys play the same miraculous tricks that the Creator himself plays with the originals. They symbolize purely imaginary quantities, bring them into relations and pass them through certain operations, and thereby discover truths which are found to have permanent objective validity. It demonstrates, as said before, that the filial mind which thus wanders in thought through the house of the Father, and, everywhere making itself familiarly at home, disports among His treasures, is of the same type with the parental Mind. And now, still farther, that the cultivators of physical science are pushing their discoveries and their theories to ultimates, we begin to see the adamantine structure of material nature melting into a system of ideal equivalents, vaporizing into an undulatory ether, vanishing before our microscopes in immaterial bases of thought, reason, law and will. The gases have just been first liquified and then actually solidified, confirming the speculative announcement long before made that oxygen and hydrogen are metals volatilized. Many valuable and strange discoveries have been reached in physical science by following prophetic declarations made a priori on grounds of pure reason. The same proofs of intellectual design and purpose are discerned in the order of atomic combination, in the beauty of crystals and dewdrops and snowflakes, in the perfect geometrical symmetry of minerals and flowers, and in the same spiral adjustment of the leaves on a tree and of the orbits of the planets in the sky, as in the artistic works of man. Intellect and will are as much shown in the production of a palm tree as they are in the production of a poem And so, before the gaze of the accomplished and devout scientist, matter is translated into terms of mind, rather than the reverse, and the whole cosmos is transmuted into a divine laboratory of ideal powers, a divine gallery of ideal pictures, a divine theater for the eternal adventures of conscious spirits. In mental conception man deals with mathematical infinites as easily as with the pettiest objects, dilates a point to the universe and shrinks the universe to a point, condenses eternity into a moment or stretches a moment to eternity. It has been shown that if correspondent diminution or enlargement in the faculties of sense and intelligence and in all the forces concerned were made, the whole stellar system and its contents might be dwarfed into the bulk of a grain of sand, or so magnified that each grain would fill the space now occupied by the whole, and no one would perceive any change whatever in the scale. In reply to the statement that nothing can act where it is not, it has been proved that every atom is virtually omnipresent. It takes the entire universe to constitute an atom, since the forces centered in each atom are connected with the whole by the insunderable continuity of all the laws of being. The science of molecular physics as expounded by its latest masters is not less astounding than the wildest soarings of transcendental metaphysics. For instance, it is proved that if there be ultimate atoms their size must be so small that it would require at least five hundred millions of them to an inch in length. In a cubic inch of hydrogen gas, then, for example, there are 125,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000 one hundred and twenty five septillions of atoms, moving with the inconceivable velocity that is implied by their making thousands of millions of changes of direction every second. The view of the dynamic s tructure of the universe opened in this direction is as appalling as that unveiled in the opposite direction by the largest extension of the nebular hypothesis. He who can gaze here with steady reason need not be staggered by the sublimest doctrine of religion. Amazed at the spectacle of creative power and wisdom, equally amazed at the discovering faculty of man, we feel it to be incredible that he should have been made capable of such thoughts only to be annihilated after a brief tantalization. Confronting the immeasurable wilderness of divine glory, strewn all through with prizes before which his soul burns with the unconsumable fire of a god like ambition, man lifts his eye to worship and reaches out his hand to receive. Is he merely taunted with the starry sky, and mocked with an infinite illusion of progress, suddenly barred with endless night and oblivion? Behold him emerging out of nothingness, mastering his self conscious identity, climbing over the rounds of symbolic experience and language through the heights of knowledge and love. Strange, helpless, sublime prince of the universe, beggar of God, when he has attained the summit of illimitable perception, holding immortal joys in full prospect, shall he be dashed back into nonentity? Is it not fitter that he be welcomed by triumphant initiation into the family of the deathless Father? Think of the advancement man has made since the time when he was a cannibal cave dweller, shivering out of the glacial epoch, and contending with wild beasts for a foothold on the earth, till now that he enjoys the idealism of Berkeley, wields the quaternions of Hamilton, uses the lightnings for his red sandaled messengers, holds his spectroscope to a star and tells what elements compose it, or to an outskirting nebula and declares it a mass of incandescent hydrogen. From such a background of accomplished fact he seems really to have a right to peer forth into the unbounded future and promise himself an unbounded destiny. The repetition of such a progress, nay much less, it may not unreasonably be imagined would raise the curtains from unsuspected secrets, bring the family of intelligences scattered over all worlds into conscious communication, and accomplish the deliverance of the whole creation travailing and groaning together unto this day for the redemption of the creature. What a splendid, almost incredible task man has already achieved in disentangling the apparent astronomic motions and converting them into the real ones. How immensely sublimer and more complex is the position of man on this planet than it seemed to the primitive savage, who knew only what his crude senses taught him, although, all the while, the moon was circling about him twenty five hundred miles an hour, and he was whirling with the revolving earth a thousand miles an hour, and spinning around the sun over thirty thousand miles an hour, and swooping with the whole solar system through the blue void with a still swifter gyre in a yet vaster cycle! This is demonstrated physical fact. Its harmonic correlate in the spiritual sphere would be nothing less than a lease of eternal existence for the soul which sees endless invitations ahead, and exults at the prospect of an eternal pursuit of them, its reason and affection affiliated with those of the whole divine household of immortals. Two or three generations ago it would have been more inconceivable that men a hundred miles apart could audibly converse together, as they now do by means of the telephone, than it is at this day to believe that communication may at some future time be opened between the inhabitants of the earth and the inhabitants of Sirius through the vibrations of the ethereal medium. Futhermore, the idea of the infinite God, in possession of which man finds himself, is a warrant for his immortality. There cannot be more in an effect than was in its cause, though there may be less. We perceive intelligence, orderly purpose, as well as power, in nature. We find in ourselves all the explicit attributes and treasures of consciousness. Reasoning back by indubitable steps we come to an uncaused, unlimited, infinite Being, the underived and eternal source of all that is. This idea in our minds of a Being of absolute perfection, whose boundless consciousness as being necessarily indivisible must be totally present at every point of infinitude, is the charter of our own divine nature and heirship. For we can become, even here, friends and companions of this omnipresent One, of whose essence and attributes everything below is but a defective transcript or dimmed revelation. This idea of Himself is the gift of God to us. To suppose that we are capable of originating it implies a greater miracle than the one it seeks to account for, and really puts ourselves in the place of God. Can we imagine that we are the creators of God? If the absolute noumenal Power beyond all phenomena be unknowable, it cannot contain less, but must contain more than all the attributes of the material and spiritual creation which has proceeded thence. The noblest and best spirits of all lands and ages have walked in full fellowship with this Being, seeking supremely to serve and love Him in the subjection of self will and in the doing of good. Many a nameless saint, in a pure consecration, has heroically thought and suffered and aspired, worn out life in slow toils or offered it up in sharp sacrifice, for the good of fellow creatures, as a tribute to God, and exhaled the last breath in a prayer of love and trust. Such faithful servants and comrades must be dear to the Infinite Spirit, and it is natural to believe that He will keep them with him forever. When Christ, in self sacrificing love, submitted to death on the cross, saying, "Father, into Thy hands I commit my spirit," he who can believe that the magnanimous sufferer was disappointed, blotted out and extinguished, thus reveals the grade of his own insight, but does not refute the greater hope of nobler seers. It seems as if the idea of God, with loving faith and obedience to its requirements, planted in a soul which had not inherited immortality would straightway begin to develop it there. The atmosphere of eternity alone befits a nature which feels itself living in the companionship of God. Everything subject to decay cowers into oblivion from before the idea of that august, incorruptible presence. The fear of death is but the recoil of the immortal from mortality. When man voluntarily faces death without fear, even courting martyrdom with a radiant joy, it is because there is in him, deeper than consciousness, a mystic knowledge that he is essentially eternal and cannot perish. He who freely sacrifices anything thereby proves himself superior to that which he sacrifices. Man freely sacrifices his life. Therefore he is immortal. The ancient Semitic philosopher and poet who wrote the book of Job, brooding on the strange problem of life and death, murmured, "Man giveth up the ghost, and where is he?" With each successive generation, for many ages, countless millions have dissolved and vanished into the vast, dumb mystery. Now, the spectator, remembering all this, stands beneath the dome of midnight, imploringly breathes the mystic sigh, "Man giveth up the ghost, and where is he?" The only responses is the same dread silence still maintained as of old. And, in a moment more, he who breathed the wondering inquiry is himself gone. Whither? Into the vacant dark of nothingness? Into the transparent sphere of perfect intelligence? The sublimity of the demand seems to ally the finite questioner with the infinite Creator; and, with a presentiment of marvelous joy, we look beyond the ignorant veil at the close of earth, and hold that eternity itself will not exhaust the possibilities of the soul, whose career shall be kept from stagnation by constant interspersals of death and birth, refreshing disembodiments from worn out forms and reincarnations in new. If this life on the earth, where man feels himself a stranger, be his all, how superfluously he is equipped with foresights and longings that outrun every conceivable limit! Why is he gifted with powers of reason and demands of love so far beyond his conditions? If there be no future for him, why is he tortured with the inspiring idea of the eternal pursuit of the still flying goal of perfection? Is it possible that the hero and the martyr and the saint, whose experience is laden with painful sacrifices for humanity, are mistaken? and that the slattern and the voluptuary and the sluggard, whose course is one of base self indulgence, are correct? Is it credible that, with no justifying explanation hereafter, it should be ordained that the more gifted and disinterested a man is the more he shall uselessly suffer, from his sympathetic carriage of the greater share in the sin and sorrow of all his race? No, far back in the past there has been some dark mystery which yet flings its dense shadows over our history here; and in the obscurity we cannot read its solution. But there is a solution. And when in some blessed age to come mankind shall outgrow their discords and be reconciled, so that their divinest living member can become the focalizing center of their collective inspiration, through him the truth will be revealed. The most inspired individual can only in a degree anticipate his age. At a certain distance he is tethered by his connections with the race. They must be near the goal before he can deliver the final message. Inspiration and revelation are as real as the sensuous method of outer knowledge. Spirit or consciousness, as that which is its own evidence, has a more than mathematic validity. When men purely love one another, and, with supreme loyalty, seek truth, ignorance and delusion will melt away before the encroaching illumination from God, and the dominion of death will be abolished. That the human mind shall be the victim of death is incongruous with its rank. The atheistic scientist who imagines that the energy of the stellar creation is gradually dissipating, so that the whole scheme must at last perish; and who sees the soul, then, like a belated butterfly, fall frozen on the boundary of a dead universe, refutes his own dismal creed by the grandeur of the power shown in thinking it. The might of love, the faculty of thought, the instinct of curiosity, are insatiable; and that which remains wooing them to grasp it, is infinite. And, after all is said, it seems certain that we are either discerpted emanations and avatars of God suffering transient incarnations for a purpose, and then to be resumed, immortal in his immortality; or else we are separate and inherent entities, immortal in ourselves. The former faith ought to satisfy the proudest ambition. The latter faith yields every motive for contentment and aspiring obedience. Man, forever feeding on the unknown, is the mysterious guest of God in the universe. We cannot believe that, the hospitality of the infinite Housekeeper becoming exhausted, He will ever blow out the lights and quench the guests. CHAPTER VI. THE TRANSIENT AND THE PERMANENT IN THE DESTINY OF MAN. A COMPANION of Solomon once said to him, "Give me, O king of wisdom, a maxim equally applicable on all occasions, that I may fortify myself with it against the caprices of fortune." Solomon reflected a moment, then gave him, in these words, the maxim he sought: "This, too, shall pass away." The courtier at first felt disappointed, but, meditating awhile, perceived the pertinent and profound meaning hidden in the transparent simplicity of the words. Are you afflicted? Be not despondent or rash, This, too, shall pass away. Are you blessed? Be not elated or careless, This too shall pass away. Are you in danger? in temptation? in glory? Still, for your proper guidance, in relation to each one, remember; This too shall pass away. And so on, under every diversity of situation in which man can be placed. Whatever restraint, whatever encouragement, whatever consolation he needs, it is all contained in the profound thought, This too shall pass away. This maxim for all times needs to be supplemented by a corresponding maxim for all persons. There is a truth constantly suited for the variety of immortal souls, as the foregoing one is for the variety of temporal changes. Let us see what that truth is and set it in a fitting aphorism. The desires of the human soul are boundless. Nothing can satisfy its wishes by fulfilling them and circumscribing there a fixed limit. It would devour the whole creation, and hungrily cry for more. Whatever extension of power or fruition it can conceive, it wants for its own, and frets if deprived of it. Now, if the spirit of the Creator is in the creature, this illimitable passion of acquisition cannot be a mere mockery. It must be a hint of the will of God and of the destiny of his child in whom He has implanted it. It is prophetic of something awaiting fulfillment. But what is the prophecy, and how is it to be fulfilled? The answer to this question will give us that maxim of eternal humanity which accords with the maxim of transient fortune. And thus it reads: Over all the things for which men struggle with each other, there is one thing, out of the sphere of struggle, which indivisibly belongs to every man, and that one thing is the whole universe! Be not baffled by the appearance of transcendental mysticism in this maxim, as the ancient inquirer was by the appearance of commonplace in his, but seek its significance. A son is an heir of his father. All men are sons of God, though only a few, and that in varying degree, are distinctly conscious as yet of their sonship. But, despite their ignorance, all are tending, more or less swiftly, toward the goal of their nature and inheritance. There are exclusive prizes which men can monopolize: and they fight with one another for these, because the more some have the less others can obtain. There are also inclusive prizes, or modes of holding and enjoying property which do not interfere with universal participation, with universal, undivided ownership. In these no one need have any the less because every one has all. This is the region of reason, imagination, affection, the empire of the soul. The more one knows of mathematical truth, poetic beauty or moral good, the easier it is, not the harder, for others to know and enjoy as much or more. In this divine domain no monopoly or conflict is possible, because the outward moving fence of each consciousness, retreating and vanishing before its conquests of experience, is a vacuum with respect to that of every other. They overlap and penetrate one another as if they were mutually nonexistent. For example, the pleasure any one takes in a picture, or in a play, does not lessen the pleasure which remains for the other spectators; but, on the contrary, adds to it if they have sympathy. Now, the all inclusive prize of desire, the very secret of the Godhead namely, the power of taking a full pure joy in every form of being, in every substance and phenomenon of the creation is forever wooing every soul; and every soul, in proportion to its advancement, is forever embracing it just as freely as if no other soul existed, yet has the zest of its enjoyments endlessly varied and heightened by mutual contemplations and reflections of those of all the rest. Such is the superiority of the disinterested spirit over the selfish flesh, of the inner world over the outer world, of good over evil. Mental ownership is sympathetic and universal, physical appropriation antagonistic and individual. We hate and oppose our fellows that with hand and foot we may monopolize some wretched grains of good, while God is inviting every one of us with our mind and heart to accept as fast as we can his whole undivided infinitude of good. The universe is the house of the Father; the true spirit of the family is disinterested, and consequently every child is heir of the whole even as the apostle Paul said, joint heir with Christ. Register, then, deeply in memory, side by side with the historic maxim for all times, This too shall pass away! the religious maxim for all souls. Over those things for which men struggle with each other, there is one thing, out of the sphere of struggle, which belongs indivisibly to every man, and that one thing is the whole universe! Then, should you ever feel vexed or disheartened by the irritations and failures you meet in your journey through the evanescent masquerade of this world, pause and say to yourself, Is it worthy of me, while the entire realm of existence asks me to appropriate it in ever expansive possession, to be angry or sad because some infinitesimal speck of it does not grant me as much of itself as I crave? The more things we love the richer we are. The fewer things we care for the freer we are. O blessed wealth and wretched freedom, how shall we perfect and reconcile them? This is the secret: If we love the divine and eternal in everything, and care not for the limiting and perishable evil connected with it, then we shall at once be both rich and free. The former practice educates our powers; the latter emancipates them. The true use of renunciation is as a means for larger fulfillment. Detach from lower and lesser objects in order to attach to higher and greater ones. Be always ready to renounce the meaner at the invitation of the nobler. The soul, like a grand frigate, may be loosely tied by a thousand separate strings, but should be held firm by one cable. Our relations to fellow creatures are those threads; our supreme relation to God, that cable. Those are the gossamer of time; this the adamant of eternity. The lame man cries, O, that I could walk! He who can walk says, O, that I could fly! If he could soar, he would sigh, O, that I were omnipresent, and therefore had no need to move! The end of one wish is but the beginning of another; and the craving of every human soul, let loose in sincere expression, is absolutely illimitable. It always comes, in the last analysis, to this; every one really longs to be God. Therefore, unless the rational creation is mendacious, to be deified, is, in some mystical but true sense, the final destiny of all souls. Every one, in its consciousness fully developed and harmonized, shall become a focus of universal being, a finite reflex of God, the infinite God himself remaining eternally the same unescapable and incomprehensible mystery as ever. There are, therefore, two supreme maxims for souls conditioned in time and space but destined for eternity and infinity a maxim of comfort for those who suffer, and a maxim of impulse for those who aspire. The one, to be used in view of every fear, every evil or limit. This, too, shall pass away! The other, to be used in view of every insatiable desire, Over all those things for which men struggle with each other, there is one thing, out of the sphere of struggle, which indivisibly belongs to every man, and that one thing is the whole universe! Nothing but the Absolute Good is everlasting: and that must belong to all who, being essential personalities, are superior to death. Blessed, blessed, then, are they who hunger and thirst after God; for, by a real transubstantiation assimilating Him, they shall as divinely live forevermore. They shall cease to say any more of anything, This, too, shall pass away! because the infinite God shall have said to each of them, Son, thou art ever with me, and all that I have is thine! If the view above marked out, a view in many respects so sublime and satisfactory, a view which goes so far to explain the mysteries, reconcile the contradictions, and transfigure the evils of our transient life and lot below be not true, it must either be because some other higher and better view is the truth in which case we certainly ought to be contented or else the creative and providential plan of God is inferior to the thought of one of his creatures. It is not possible for me to suppose that a speculative theory of my brain can transcend in harmony and beneficence the design of the infinite God. Could it do so, then, in reality, I should be a higher being than He. I should veritably have dethroned Him and vaulted into his place. Is not that a pitch of impiety and absurdity too great even for the pride of man, insurgent atom of criticising assumption, set, baffled at every point, amidst the awful immensity of existence? Here, then, is rest. Either our highest view is the truth, or the truth is higher and better than that. For to think that his thought is superior to the purpose of God, thus making himself the real God, is too much for the extremist human egotist within the limits of sanity. Therefore, until a better theory is propounded, we hold that the destiny of the soul is to become, through the progressive actualization of its potential consciousness, a free thinking center of the universe, an infinitesimal mirror of God. The adventures of the different souls, full of inexhaustible curiosity and relish in the mutually revealing contacts of their degrees of development and originalities of personal character and treasure, constitute the endless drama of spiritual existence within the phenomenal theater of the material creation. And still the infinite One serenely smiles on the troubled play of the eternal Many; because the psychological kaleidoscope of their experience is a continuous improvisation of justice, weaving the fate of Each with the fates of All, and transfusing the monotonous unity of the Same with the zestful variety of the Other. 
30119	----	kindly provided at books.google.com THE CALVINISTIC DOCTRINE OF PREDESTINATION EXAMINED AND REFUTED: BEING THE SUBSTANCE OF A SERIES OF DISCOURSES Delivered in St. George's M. E. Church, Philadelphia, BY FRANCIS HODGSON, D. D. PHILADELPHIA: HIGGINS AND PERKINPINE. No. 40 NORTH FOURTH STREET, 1855. Entered according to the Act of Congress, in the year 1854, by FRANCIS HODGSON, in the Office of the Clerk of the District Court of the United States in and for the Eastern District of Pennsylvania. PHILADELPHIA: T. R. AND P. G. COLLINS, PRINTERS. PHILADELPHIA, July 13, 1854. Rev. FRANCIS HODGSON, D. D. DEAR SIR: We, whose names are hereunto annexed, having heard your recent series of discourses upon the "Divine Decrees," and believing that their publication at this time would be of great service to the cause of truth, earnestly desire that such measures may be taken as will secure their publication at an early period. We therefore respectfully solicit your concurrence, and that you would do whatever may be necessary on your part to further our object:-- JAMES B. LONGACRE, P. D. MYERS, GARRET VANZANT, R. MCCAMBRIDGE, JOHN J. HARE, THOMAS W. PRICE, DANIEL BREWSTER, CHAS. MCNICHOL, WM. G. ECKHARDT, THOS. M. ADAMS, CHAS. COYLE, FRANCIS A. FARROW, BENJAMIN HERITAGE, THOS. HARE, J. O. CAMPBELL, SAMUEL HUDSON, JAMES HARRIS, JOSEPH THOMPSON, WM. GOODHART, DAVID DAILEY, R. O. SIMONS, JNO. R. MORRISON, AMOS HORNING, JAMES HUEY, ENOS S. KERN, JOHN FRY, JNO. P. WALKER, E. A. SMITH, JOHN STREET, JAMES D. SIMKINS, J. W. BUTCHER, S. W. STOCKTON, JACOB HENDRICK, FOSTER PRITCHETT. DEAR BRETHREN:-- The motives which induced me to preach the discourses on the "Divine Decrees" are equally decisive in favor of their publication, as you propose. I have taken the liberty to rearrange some parts of them for the benefit of the reader. Yours, FRANCIS HODGSON. To Brothers LONGACRE, MYERS, and others. PREDESTINATION. DISCOURSE I. "In whom also we have obtained an inheritance, being predestinated according to the purpose of him who worketh all things after the counsel of his own will."--EPH. i. 11. IT would very naturally be expected of a preacher, selecting this passage as the foundation of his discourse, that he would have something to say upon the subject of predestination. It is my purpose to make this the theme of the occasion; and this purpose has governed me in the selection of the text. The subject is one of great practical importance. It relates to the Divine government--its leading principles and the great facts of its administration. Some suppose that the Methodists deny the doctrine of Divine predestination, that the word itself is an offence to them, and that they are greatly perplexed and annoyed by those portions of Scripture by which the doctrine is proclaimed. This is a mistaken view. We have no objection to the word; we firmly believe the doctrine; and all the Scriptures, by which it is stated or implied, are very precious to us. There is a certain theory of predestination, the Calvinistic theory, which we consider unscriptural and dangerous. There is another, the Arminian theory, which we deem Scriptural and of very salutary influence. My plan is, _first_, to refute the false theory; and, _secondly_, to present the true one, and give it its proper application. My discourse or discourses upon this subject may be more or less unacceptable to some on account of their controversial aspect. This disadvantage cannot always be avoided. Controversy is not always agreeable, yet it is often necessary. Error must be opposed, and truth defended. What I have to say, is designed chiefly for the benefit of the younger portion of the congregation. I feel that there devolves upon me not a little responsibility in reference to this class of my hearers. Many of them, I am happy to learn, are eagerly searching for truth, and they have a right to expect that the pulpit will aid their inquiries, and throw light upon their path. The theory of predestination to which we object affirms that God has purposed, decreed, predetermined, foreordained, predestinated, whatsoever comes to pass, and that, in some way or other, he, by his providence, brings to pass whatever occurs. The advocates of this doctrine complain loudly that they are misunderstood and misrepresented. The Rev. Samuel Miller, D. D., late of Princeton College, N. J., in a tract on _Presbyterian Doctrine_, published by the Presbyterian Board of Publication, complains thus: "It may be safely said that no theological system was ever more _grossly misrepresented_, or more _foully_ and _unjustly vilified_ than this." "The gross misrepresentations with which it has been assailed, the _disingenuous_ attempts to fasten upon it consequences which its advocates disavow and abhor; and the _unsparing calumny_ which is continually heaped upon it and its friends, have _scarcely been equalled_ in any other case in the entire annals of theological controversy." "The opponents of this system are wont to give the most _shocking_ and _unjust_ pictures of it. Whether this is done from _ignorance_ or _dishonesty_ it would be painful, as well as vain, at present, to inquire." "The truth is, it would be difficult to find a writer or speaker, who has distinguished himself by opposing Calvinism, who has fairly represented the system, or who really appeared to understand it. They are forever fighting against a _caricature_. Some of the most grave and venerable writers in our country, who have appeared in the Arminian ranks, are undoubtedly in this predicament: whether this has arisen from the want of knowledge or the want of candor, the effect is the same, and the conduct is worthy of severe censure." "Let any one carefully and dispassionately read over the _Confession of Faith_ of the Presbyterian Church, and he will soon perceive that the professed representations of it, which are _daily_ proclaimed from the _pulpit_ and the _press_, are _wretched slanders_, for which no apology can be found but in the ignorance of their authors." He places himself in very honorable contrast with those whom he thus severely condemns: "The writer of these pages," says he, "is fully persuaded that Arminian principles, when traced out to their natural and unavoidable consequences, lead to an invasion of the essential attributes of God, and, of course, to blank and cheerless atheism. Yet, in making a statement of the Arminian system, as actually held by its advocates, he should consider himself inexcusable if he departed a hair's-breadth from the delineation made by its friends." (pp. 26, 27, 28.) This writer reiterates these charges, with interesting variations, in his introduction to a book on the Synod of Dort, published by the same establishment. "They," says he, "are ever fighting against an imaginary monster of their own creation. They picture to themselves the consequences which they suppose unavoidably flow from the real principles of Calvinists, and then, most unjustly, represent these consequences as a part of the system itself, as held by its advocates." Again: "How many an eloquent page of anti-Calvinistic declamation would be instantly seen by every reader to be either calumny or nonsense, if it had been preceded by an honest statement of what the system, as held by Calvinists, really is." (_Synod of Dort_, p. 64.) The Rev. Dr. Beecher says, in his work on _Skepticism_: "I have _never heard a correct_ statement of the Calvinistic system from an opponent;" and, after specifying some alleged instances of misrepresentation, he adds: "It is needless to say that falsehoods _more absolute_ and _entire_ were never stereotyped in the foundry of the father of lies, or with greater industry worked off for gratuitous distribution from age to age." The Rev. Dr. Musgrave, in what he calls a _Brief Exposition and Vindication of the Doctrine of the Divine Decrees, as taught in the Assembly's Larger Catechism_, another of the publications of the Presbyterian Board, charges the opponents of Calvinism in general, and the Methodists in particular, with not only _violently contesting_, but also with _shockingly caricaturing_, and _shamefully misrepresenting_ and _vilifying_ Calvinism--with "systematic and wide-spread defamation"--with "wholesale traduction of moral character, involving the Christian reputation of some three or four thousand accredited ministers of the gospel." His charity suggests an apology for much of our "misrepresentation of their doctrinal system" on the ground of our "intellectual weakness and want of education;" but, for our "dishonorable attempts to impair the influence" of Calvinistic ministers, and "injure their churches," he "can conceive of no apology." The Rev. A. G. Fairchild, D. D., in a series of discourses entitled _The Great Supper_, likewise published by the Presbyterian Board of Publication, complains in these terms: "Sectarian partisans are interested in misleading the public in regard to our real sentiments, and hence their assertions should be received with caution. Those who would understand our system of doctrines, must listen, not to the misrepresentations of its enemies, but to the explanations of its friends." (p. 40.) Again: "As these men cannot wield the civil power against us, they will do what they can to punish us for holding doctrines which they cannot overthrow by fair and manly argument. God only knows the extent to which we might have to suffer for our religion, were it not for the protection of the laws! For, if men will publish the most wilful and deliberate untruths against us, as they certainly do, for no other offence than an honest difference of religious belief, what would they not do if their power were equal to their wickedness?" (p. 73.) This writer expresses his sense of the "wickedness of those who oppose Calvinism" in still stronger terms: "If, then, the doctrines of grace [Calvinism] are plainly taught in the Scriptures, if they accord with the experience of Christians, and enter largely into their prayers, then it must be exceedingly sinful to oppose and misrepresent them. Those who do this will eventually be found _fighting against God_. We have recently heard of persons praying publicly against the election of grace, and we wonder that their tongues did not cleave to the roof of their mouth in giving utterance to the horrid imprecation." (p. 178.) Ah! These Methodists are very wicked! The Rev. L. A. Lowry, author of a recent work, entitled _Search for Truth_, published by the same high authority, discourses as follows:-- "When I see a man trying to distort the proper meaning of words, and, presenting a garbled statement of the views of an opponent, I take it as conclusive evidence that he has a bad cause; more when he is constantly at it, and manifests in all that he does a feeling of uneasiness and hostility towards those who oppose him. During my brief sojourn in the Cumberland Church, I was called upon to witness many such exhibitions, that, in the outset of my ministerial labors, made anything but a favorable impression on my mind. I found there, in common with all others who hold to Arminian sentiments, the most uncompromising and _malignant_ opposition to the doctrines of the Presbyterian Church, while there was _not_ a man that I met in all my intercourse, that _could_ state fairly and fully what those doctrines are. Their views were entirely one-sided; the truth was garbled to suit their convenience; and the creations of their own fruitful fancy were constantly being presented before the minds of the people, thereby deepening their prejudices, and drawing still closer the dark folds of their mantle of ignorance and bigotry." (pp. 65, 66.) Again: "It is painful to witness the ignorance and stupidity of men--their malignity and opposition to the truth--who have learned to misrepresent and abuse Calvinism with such bitterness of feeling, till, like a rattlesnake in dog-days, they have become blinded by the poison of their own minds." (p. 156.) In this attempt to destroy confidence in the veracity of Arminians, so far, at least, as it is connected with their representations of Calvinism, leading individuals are singled out for special animadversion. Dr. Miller assails the moral character of Arminius. He says of him that, "On first entering upon his professorship, he seemed to take much pains to remove from himself all suspicion of heterodoxy, by publicly maintaining theses in favor of the received doctrines; doctrines which he afterwards zealously contradicted. And that he did this contrary to his own convictions at the time, was made abundantly evident afterwards by some of his own zealous friends. But, after he had been in his new office a year or two, it was discovered that it was his constant practice to deliver one set of opinions in his professional chair, and a very different set by means of private confidential manuscripts circulated among his pupils." (_Synod of Dort_, p. 13.) Dr. Fairchild speaks thus of a passage by Mr. Wesley: "In the doctrinal _Tracts_, p. 172, is an address to Satan, which we have no hesitation in saying is fraught with the most concentrated blasphemy ever proceeding from the tongue or pen of mortal, whether Jew, Pagan, or Infidel, and all imputed to the Calvinists. One cannot help wondering how such transcendent impieties ever found their way into the mind of man; I am not willing to transfer the language to these pages; but the work is doubtless accessible to most readers, having been sown broadcast over the land." (_Great Supper_, p. 150.) He also indorses the charge of forgery which Toplady made against Mr. Wesley. (See p. 111.) The late Dr. Fisk is charged with garbling the _Confession of Faith_ for sinister purposes (p. 111); and with "scandalous imputations" against Calvinism. (p. 150.) It is not impossible that our Calvinistic brethren should be misrepresented. Nor is it impossible that they should misrepresent both themselves and others. I do not admit that they are thus misrepresented by their Methodist opponents, but it is not my intention to refute these charges at this time. I refer to them now to justify the special caution which I shall observe in presenting their tenets. They make it necessary for us to prove beyond the possibility of doubt that they hold the doctrines which we impute to them. I shall give their views in their own words. Calvin says, in his _Institutes_: "Whoever, then, desires to avoid this infidelity, let him constantly remember that, in the creatures, there is no erratic power, or action, or motion, but that they are _so governed _by the secret counsel of God, that _nothing can happen_ but what is subject to his knowledge, and DECREED _by his will_." (Vol. i. p. 186.) Again: "All future things being uncertain to us, we hold them in suspense, as though they might happen either one way or another. Yet, this remains a _fixed principle_ in our hearts, that _there will be_ NO _event which God has not_ ORDAINED." (_Ib_. p. 193.) Again: "They consider it absurd that a man should be blinded by the will and command of God, and afterwards be punished for his blindness. They, therefore, evade this difficulty, by alleging that it happens only by the permission of God, and not by the will of God; but God himself, by the most unequivocal declarations, rejects this subterfuge. That men, however, _can effect_ NOTHING but by the secret _will_ of _God_, and can _deliberate_ upon nothing but what he has _previously decreed_, and DETERMINES by his _secret direction_, is proved by express and innumerable testimonies." (_Ib_. p. 211.) Again: "If God simply foresaw the fates of men, and did not also _dispose_ and _fix_ them by his _determination_, there would be room to agitate the question, whether his providence or foresight rendered them at all necessary. But, since he foresees future events only in consequence of _his decree that they shall happen_, it is useless to contend about foreknowledge, while it is evident that ALL _things come to pass rather_ by ORDINATION and DECREE." (Vol ii. p. 169.) Again: "I shall not hesitate, therefore, to confess plainly, with Augustine, 'that the _will_ of God is the _necessity of things_, and that _what_ he has _willed_ will _necessarily come to pass_.' " (_Ib_. p. 171.) Again: "With respect to his secret influences, the declaration of Solomon concerning the heart of a king, that it is inclined hither or thither according to the Divine will, certainly extends to the whole human race, and is as much as though he had said, that WHATEVER CONCEPTIONS we form in our minds, they we _directed_ by the _secret_ INSPIRATION of GOD." (_Ib_. p. 213.) Finally, for the present: "_What God decrees_," says this celebrated writer, "must NECESSARILY _come to pass_." (_Ib_. p. 194.) I think it will not be said, by any one who has heard me attentively, that I either misrepresent, or misunderstand, Calvin, when I impute to him the doctrine that God has purposed, decreed, determined, foreordained, predestinated whatsoever comes to pass, and that he in some way or other brings to pass whatever occurs. But it may be objected that we ought not to hold modern Calvinists responsible for all the doctrines of Calvin; that they "no further indorse them than as they are incorporated into their acknowledged creeds." To this we cordially assent. By this rule we will abide. What, then, is the language of the _Westminster Confession of Faith_, the established standard of orthodoxy in the American Presbyterian Churches? The third chapter commends thus: "God, from all eternity, did, by the most wise and holy counsel of his own will, freely and unchangeably ordain whatsoever comes to pass" (p. 15); and, at the commencement of the fifth chapter, we read: "God, the great Creator of all things, doth uphold, direct, dispose, and govern all creatures, actions, and things, from the greatest even to the least, by his most wise and holy providence." Observe, he, according to this statement, not only _upholds_ and _governs_ all creatures, but _directs_ and _disposes_ all _actions_ and things, from the _greatest_ even to the _least_. The _Larger Catechism_ says, in answer to the question, "What are the decrees of God?" "God's decrees are the wise, free, and holy acts of the counsel of his will, whereby, from all eternity, he hath, for his own glory, unchangeably foreordained _whatsoever comes to pass in time_, especially concerning angels and men." The _Shorter Catechism_ answers the same question by these words: "The decrees of God are, his eternal purpose according to the counsel of his will, whereby, for his own glory, he hath foreordained _whatsoever comes to pass_." The next question in this Catechism is: "How doth God execute his decrees?--_Ans_. God executeth his decrees in the works of creation and providence." In a work, entitled _An Exposition of the Confession of Faith of the Westminster Assembly of Divines_, by the Rev. Robert Shaw, published by the Presbyterian Board of Publication, and revised by the Committee of Publication, we find the following passages: "That God _must have decreed all future things_ is a conclusion which flows necessarily from his foreknowledge, independence, and immutability." (p. 58.) Again: "The decrees of God relate to all future things without exception; _whatever is done in time was foreordained before the beginning of time_." (p. 59.) Again: "If from all eternity he knew all things that come to pass, then from eternity he _must_ have _ordained_ them" (p. 60). Again: "The foreknowledge of God will necessarily infer a decree; for God could not foreknow that things would be, unless he had decreed they should be." (p. 59.) In another publication of this Board, entitled _Fisher's Catechism_, we find the following questions and answers:-- "_Q_. What are the decrees of God?--_Ans_. The decrees of God are his eternal purpose, according to the counsel of his will, whereby, for his own glory, he hath _foreordained whatsoever comes to pass_." (p. 51.) "_Q_. Are all the decrees of God then unchangeable?--_Ans_. Yes: from all eternity, he hath, for his own glory, unchangeably foreordained whatsoever comes to pass." (p. 53.) "_Q_. Does anything come to pass in time but what was decreed from eternity?--_Ans_. No: for the _very reason why anything_ comes to pass in time, is _because God decreed_ it." (p. 54.) "_Q_. Are things that are casual or accidental positively decreed?--_Ans_. Yes." (_Ib_.) "_Q_. What has the decree of God fixed with respect to man's continuance in this world?--_Ans_. It has _immovably fixed_ the precise moment of _every_ one's _life_ and _death_, with _every particular circumstance thereof_." (_Ib_.) "_Q_. How does God execute his decrees?--_Ans_. God executes his decrees in the works of creation and providence." (p. 57.) "_Q_. What is it for God to execute his decrees?--_Ans_. It is to bring them to pass; or give _an actual being in time_, to what he _purposed from eternity_." (_Ib_.) "_Q_. Does not God leave the execution of his decrees to second causes?--_Ans_. Whatever use God may make of second causes, in the execution of his decrees, yet they are _merely tools_ in his overruling hand, to bring about his glorious designs, and must do all his pleasure." (_Ib_.) "_Q_. Are there not certain means by which the decrees of God are executed?--_Ans_. Yes; but these _means_ are _decreed as well as the end_." (p. 52.) "_Q_. Is there an exact harmony or correspondence, between God's decree and the execution of it?--_Ans_. When the thing decreed is brought actually into being, it _exactly corresponds_ to the idea or platform of it _in_ the infinite _mind_ of _God_." (p. 57.) "_Q_. Can none of the decrees of God be defeated or fail of execution?--_Ans_. By no means." (_Ib_.) "_Q_. Does God's governing providence include in it his _immediate concurrence_ with every action of the creature?--Ans. Yes; God not only _efficaciously concurs_ in _producing_ the action, as to the matter of it; but likewise _predetermines_ the creature to such or such an action, and _not to another, shutting up all other ways of acting_, and leaving _that only open_ which he had _determined_ to be done." (p. 67.) "_Q_. Why are the decrees of God said to be _absolute_?--_Ans_. Because they depend upon no condition without God himself, but entirely and solely upon his own sovereign will and pleasure." (p. 52.) On page 67 he tells us that "the _worst action_ that was ever _committed_, the _crucifying_ of the Lord of glory, was _ordered_ and _directed_ by God." The Rev. Dr. Musgrave says, &c.: "In the former chapter, we endeavored to explain and prove the three following propositions:-- "1. That _all things that come to pass_ in time, have been _eternally_ and _unchangeably foreordained_, because most certainly foreknown to the infinitely perfect Jehovah." (p. 18.) The Rev. Dr. Boardman, of this city, in his discourses on the doctrine of election, not only quotes with approbation that part of the Confession of Faith which says, "God, from all eternity, did, by the most wise and holy counsel of his own will, freely and unchangeably ordain whatsoever comes to pass" (p. 49), but also says: "Some persons appear to think that the Divine decrees are restricted to spiritual matters. This is so far from being a correct opinion, that the Scriptures represent ALL EVENTS, however _trivial_, as being embraced in those decrees." In this connection, he also affirms "that the Divine decrees embrace not only _ends_ but _means_, and that both in temporal and spiritual things, where an end is decreed, the _means_ by which it is to be reached or accomplished are _also decreed_." (pp. 56, 57.) Dr. Chalmers, in his discourse on Predestination, says: "Let us not conceive that the _agency_ of _man_ can bring about _one single iota_ of _deviation_ from the _plans_ and the _purposes_ of _God_, or that he can be compelled to vary in a single case by the movement of any of those subordinate beings whom he hath himself created. There may be a diversity of operations, but it is God who worketh all in all. Look at the resolute and independent man, and you then see the purposes of the human mind entered upon with decision, and followed up by vigorous and successful exertions. But these _only make up one diversity of God's operations_. The _will of man_, active, and spontaneous, and fluctuating as it appears to be, is an _instrument in his hand_--and he turns it at his pleasure--and he brings other instruments to act upon it--and he plies it with all its excitements--and he measures the force and proportion of each of them--and _every step_ of _every individual_ receives as _determinate_ a _character_ from the _hand of God_, as every mile of a planet's orbit, or every gust of wind, or every wave of the sea, or every particle of flying dust, or every rivulet of flowing water. This power of God knows no exception. It is absolute and unlimited, and while it embraces the vast, it carries its _resistless_ influence to all the minute and unnoticed diversities of existence. It reigns and operates through all the secrecies of the inner man. _It gives birth to every purpose. It gives impulse to every desire. It gives shape and color to every conception_. It wields an entire ascendency over every attribute of the mind, and the will, and the fancy, and the understanding, with all the countless variety of their hidden and fugitive operations, are submitted to it." It may be supposed that while we have shown clearly and indubitably that the doctrine which we propose to examine and refute is held by Old School Presbyterians, it would be an act of injustice upon our part, should we impute it to those of the New School. Many think that the New School have rejected the leading doctrines of Calvinism, as set forth in the Confession of Faith. This is a very erroneous impression. A writer in the _Presbyterian Quarterly Review_--a work recently originated and sustained by New School Presbyterians--remarks as follows: "Whatever difficulties there may be in the philosophy of the fact, it is certain that the idea of Presbyterianism actuates itself theologically in Calvinism." (Vol. i. No. I. p. 18.) Again: "So far as we are informed, there is not a minister of our body who does not love and cherish the Westminster Confession of Faith as the best human delineation of Biblical theology." (p. 5.) Again: "After fifteen years, in the body with which we are connected, no man has moved to alter a tittle of the Confession of Faith." (p. 3.) Again: "As we love the Confession of Faith and the Catechisms, we shall stand ready to vindicate them from Arminian, Socinian, and infidel assaults on the one side, as well as Antinomian glosses on the other." (p. 10.) Again: "We must then, if we would obey the voice of God's providence, teach our children the priceless glories of their faith" (p. 152). "Who tells them that the Westminster Confession of Faith is a model of noble writing?" (p. 153.) The _Westminster Confession of Faith_, with the _Catechisms_, has recently been republished by the authority of the New School General Assembly, as the creed of their Church. Had they made any material changes in their creed, so far as Calvinism is concerned, this would have been the time to manifest them. But the New School _Confession of Faith_ is a mere reprint of that of the Old School. The Rev. Albert Barnes, in a sermon in behalf of the American Home Missionary Society, preached in New York and in Philadelphia, says of that institution: "It cannot be denied, it need not be denied, that the form of Christianity which it seeks and expects to propagate, is that which has been much spoken against in the world, and known as the Calvinistic form, and that it expects to make its way because there are minds in every community that are likely to embrace Christianity in that form, because it is presumed that the more mind is elevated, and cultivated, and brought into connection with schools and colleges, the more likely it will be to embrace that form." (p. 38.) Again, in a sermon preached before the New School General Assembly, May 20, 1852, he commences a paragraph with these words: "The Calvinistic denomination of Christians, of which we are a part" (p. 12). Again, he says: "As this form of Christianity is represented in the great denominational family to which we belong, it combines two things--the Presbyterian form of government, and the Calvinistic or Augustinian type of doctrine." (_Ib_.) This eminent writer, whom I hold in very high esteem for his learning, intelligence, and piety, notwithstanding his Calvinism, expresses his views of the Divine decrees in these words:-- "But on this point, the entire movement of the world bears the marks of being conducted according to a plan. We defy a man to lay his finger on a fact which has not such a relation to other facts as to show that it is a part of a scheme; and if of a scheme, _then of a purpose formed beforehand_." (_Introd. to Butler's Analogy_, p. 53.) Again: "The event which was thus foreknown, must have been, for some cause, _certain_ and _fixed_, since an uncertain event could not possibly be foreknown. To talk of foreknowing a contingent event as certain, which may or may not exist, is an absurdity." (_Notes on Romans_, viii. 29.) Again: "We interpret the decrees of God, so far as we can do it, by _facts_; and we say that the actual _result_, by whatever means brought about, is the expression of the _design_ of God." (_Introd. to Butler's Analogy_, p. 43.) The _Saybrook Platform and Confession of Faith_, which contains the faith of the New England Congregationalists, holds precisely the same language respecting the Divine decrees, with the Confession of Faith of the Presbyterian Churches. I am in possession of a work entitled _A Confession of Faith put forth by the Elders and Brethren of many Congregations of Christians (baptized upon profession of their faith) in London and the country_; adopted by the Baptist Association, met at Philadelphia, September 25, 1752. The chapters in this Confession which relate to "God's decree" and "Providence," are, with very slight variations of phraseology, not affecting the sense, the same with those in the _Westminster Confession of Faith_, and the _Saybrook Platform_. It is thoroughly Calvinistic. The _Baptist Catechism_, published by the American Baptist Publication Society, contains the following question and answer:-- "_Q_. What are the decrees of God?--_Ans_. The decrees of God are his eternal purposes, according to the counsel of his will, whereby, for his own glory, he hath foreordained whatsoever comes to pass." The _Confession of Faith_ of the Dutch Reformed Church says: "We believe that the same God, after he had created all things, did not forsake them or give them up to fortune or chance, but that he rules and governs them according to his holy will, so that _nothing happens in this world without his appointment_." Again: "This doctrine affords us unspeakable consolation, since we are taught thereby, that nothing can befall us by chance, but by the direction of our most gracious and Heavenly Father." Mark, according to this, NOTHING _happens_ but with the APPOINTMENT and by the DIRECTION of our Heavenly Father. My hearers will, by this time, be fully convinced that I have not misstated the Calvinistic doctrine of Divine predestination. The application of this doctrine to the final destinies of men and angels constitutes the Calvinistic doctrine of election and reprobation. Upon this point, Calvin says:-- "Predestination we call the eternal decree of God, by which _he has determined in himself what he would have become of every individual of mankind_. For they are _not all created with a similar destiny_, but _eternal life is foreordained for some_, and _eternal damnation for others_. Every man _therefore being created for one or the other of these ends_, we say he is predestinated either to eternal life or death." (Vol. ii. p. 145.) Again: "Observe; all things being at God's disposal, and the decision of salvation or death belonging to him, he orders all things by his counsel and decree in such a manner, that _some men are born devoted from the womb to certain death_, that his name may be glorified in their destruction." (_Ib_. 169.) Again: "I inquire, again, how it came to pass that the fall of Adam, _independent of any remedy_, should involve so many nations with their _infant children_ in eternal death, but because such was _the will of God_. Their tongues, so loquacious on every other point, must here be struck dumb. It is an awful decree, I confess but no one can deny that God foreknew the future final fate of man before he created him, and that he did foreknow it _because it was appointed by his own decree_." (_Ib_. 170.) Upon this point, the _Presbyterian Confession of Faith_, the _Saybrook Platform_, and the _Baptist Confession of Faith_, hold the following language:-- "By the decree of God for the manifestation of his glory, some men and angels are predestinated to everlasting life, and others foreordained to everlasting death. "Those angels and men, thus predestinated and foreordained, are particularly and unchangeably designed; and their number is so certain and definite, that it cannot be either increased or diminished. "Those of mankind that are predestinated unto life, God, before the foundation of the world was laid, according to his eternal and immutable purpose, and the secret counsel and good pleasure of his will, hath chosen in Christ, unto everlasting glory, out of his mere free grace and love, without any foresight of faith or good works, or perseverance in either of them, or any other thing in the creature, as conditions or causes moving him thereunto, and all unto the praise of his glorious grace." I do not say that Calvinists never contradict any of these statements. Nor do I profess to have spread out the entire theory of Calvinism. The question now relates to their doctrine of Divine decrees. I am fully convinced that the times demand a review and comparison of the two opposing systems, Calvinism and Arminianism. Our Calvinistic brethren, both Old and New School, are putting forth high claims in behalf of their system, and speaking of ours in very disparaging terms. The Rev. Albert Barnes tells us, in his sermon in behalf of the Home Missionary Society, preached in 1849, that the more mind is elevated, and cultivated, and brought into connection with colleges and schools, the more likely it will be to embrace the Calvinistic form of Christianity. He thinks that Calvinists will be increased just in proportion as schools and colleges can be founded, and an intelligent and educated ministry sent out. He does not suppose that the entire mind of the west will embrace Calvinistic views, but he does "expect that a considerable portion of the _educated_ and _ruling_ mind will" (p. 40). He tells us, in his sermon delivered before the New School General Assembly, convened in Washington in 1852, that past history has shown that the class of minds most likely to embrace the Calvinistic system "is most likely to be found among the thinking, the sober, the educated, the firm, the conservative, and the free" (p. 10); that "the Calvinistic system identifies itself with education, and a large portion of the cultivated mind of a community will be always imbued with the sentiments of the system." (p. 15.) This seems to imply, whatever may be intended, that Arminianism has special affinities for ignorance; that it is more indebted to ignorance than to intelligence for its diffusion; that its chances for success will be diminished, in proportion as sound education advances, and the ministry becomes intelligent. If this be so, Arminians are pursuing a suicidal policy; for no Christian denomination has established as many colleges and academies in the same length of time as the Methodists. That Arminianism takes better than Calvinism with _the masses_ is undeniable; but this may be because it possesses a superior adaptation to the wants of humanity. Our Saviour gave it as a distinctive mark of the ushering in of the last dispensation that the poor have the gospel preached unto them, which implies that the poor, and consequently the uneducated, may understand it. Mr. Barnes goes further. He intimates that the different theological systems are "the result of some _original peculiarity_ in certain classes of minds;" that "there are minds, not a few in number, or unimportant in character, which, when converted, will _naturally_ embrace Calvinism." He "will not undertake to say whether John Wesley _could_ have been a Calvinist, but he can say that Jonathan Edwards _could never have been anything else_." He repeats this sentiment three years after, in these words: "There are minds, indeed, and those in _many respects_ of a high order, that _will not_ [mark the phraseology!] see the truth of the Calvinistic system; but there are minds that _can never_ see the truth of an opposite system. We could not perhaps undertake to say whether John Wesley could ever have been a Calvinist, but we _can_ say that Jonathan Edwards could never have been anything else; and if there be a mind in any community formed like that of Edwards, we anticipate that it will embrace the same great system which he defended." Now it is inconceivable that Mr. Barnes should consider the Arminian superior or equal to the Calvinistic mind. That must be the best mental structure which is most in harmony with the best theory. The tenor of his remarks indicates clearly his opinion upon this point. I can hardly express the astonishment which I felt upon reading this strange sentiment from so justly distinguished a writer. It appeared to me to be grossly unphilosophical, implying either that truth is not homogeneous; that contradictory propositions may be equally true; or that God has constituted some minds falsely. It is presumable that between truth and mind, in its original normal condition--mind not perverted by erroneous education, or prejudice, or passion, or depravity in any form-- there will be a strict congeniality, so that truth will be preferred to error. But this doctrine implies that one set of minds will, under the same circumstances, from their peculiar natural constitution, prefer the truth, and another set reject it. It is obviously of very dangerous practical tendency. While the Calvinist may refer to it to account for his being a Calvinist, and the Arminian to account for his being an Arminian, the infidel may claim that it is from the same cause that he is an infidel. His rejecting the Bible is the natural inevitable result of the peculiar mental constitution which God gave him. Mr. Barnes tells us that Calvinism does not appeal to passion; but, if I am not very greatly mistaken, and you may judge whether I am or not, its advocates appeal very significantly to pride of intellect. It offers gross flattery as the price of adhesion and support. What else can be inferred from the passages which I have quoted, than that by becoming Calvinists you will class yourselves with minds of a superior structure, and with the educated and cultivated, and will occupy an elevation from which you can look down upon the less favored Arminians? A writer in the New School _Quarterly Review_ has this remark: "Our physical frame could about as well be erect, and adapted for its purposes without a backbone, as piety be complete without Calvinism." (Vol. i. No. I. p. 19.) The Rev. Mr. Lowry, in his _Search for Truth_, claims that "the doctrine of human depravity--the complete ruin of man--the justice of his condemnation--the legal or covenant relation of Adam and his posterity--the necessity of an atonement--and its vicarious nature," "belong exclusively to the Calvinistic system." He admits that the "Arminian often makes use of the same phraseology as the Calvinist," but then he rejects the "proper and scriptural sense." "The Arminian," he says, "attempts to connect with his system the doctrine of a vicarious atonement, because the phrase is a popular one, and he cannot well do without it; but when we come to examine its meaning, we find that lie has no claim to it whatever. He may hold on to the name, but nothing more. The substance is as different from the view which forms a part of his creed, as a city on the Atlantic coast differs from a small village in the backwoods." (pp. 55, 56.) Again: "The principles which lie at the foundation of the Arminian doctrine of _ability_ and _grace_, are not only calculated to destroy the energies of the Church, and unhinge the institutions of society, as I have endeavored to show, but they go still further; they enter the Christian's closet, and destroy the life and soul of his private devotions. They are calculated to dry up every fountain, and destroy every spring of religious feeling and action." (p. 86.) Again: "Arminians are without any consistent and harmonious system of doctrine. It is true that, on speaking of the doctrines of those who hold to Arminian sentiments, we are in the habit of using the word _system_, but it is only as a matter of convenience and courtesy. Some of those doctrines may sustain a logical connection with others--such as the doctrine of falling from grace, and the denial of divine efficiency in conversion and sanctification --but Arminianism, as a whole, is a coat of many colors, that has been patched and pieced since the days of Pelagius, according to the taste and caprice of the man that wears it." (p. 156.) Again: "It requires but half an eye to see, that the view of the fall of man and the relation we sustain to Adam, as found in the standards of the Methodist Church, vitiate the whole Gospel scheme; that the principles growing out of the view there presented, lead to fundamental error with regard to the nature of virtue and vice, and destroy all human accountability; that the nature of the remedy found in the same standards necessarily destroys all motive to intelligent action and labor upon the part of the Church in the great work before her, holds out no encouragement to prayer; degrades the character of God to that of a debtor and apologist for injuries he has done to the creature; and exalts the creature to heaven by a kind of semi-omnipotence of his own. Such consequences as these I say are _dangerous and ruinous_." (p. 157.) This book derives its importance from its being adopted by the Presbyterian Board of Publication, and its bearing the _imprimatur_ of that institution. It is commended by their catalogue as "well worthy of perusal by those who have doubts as to the scriptural character of those doctrines which ignorance and prejudice brand as the horrible dogmas of Calvinism.'" It was published in 1852. A writer in the _Presbyterian_, of June 25, 1853, thus expresses his views of Arminianism: "Did we preach Arminianism to the people, we could get ten into our churches where we now get one; for it must be remembered that Arminianism is far more palatable to depraved nature than Calvinism." Again: "These brethren go too fast, get men into the visible kingdom too soon; lull them to everlasting sleep by their soporific measures and doctrinal anodynes, thereby breaking down the barriers which separate the Church from the world, and ruining hundreds of souls where they save one. Let our young men be made to feel rather that Arminianism is a dangerous delusion wherever it is preached, and uphold with all their might and main real old-fashioned Calvinism." It is a very common thing with Calvinists to refer opposition to Calvinism to depravity, as its source. The _Presbyterian Banner_, for Nov. 5, 1853, contains the following: "The natural heart recoils from predestination. The ungodly hate it. Our whole system is too humbling to human pride to find friends even among the vicious. This is to us a strong affirmation of its truth." They also claim for Calvinism that it is not only specially conducive to civil and religious liberty, but that it is essential thereto. The Rev. Dr. Wilson, of the New School Presbyterian Church, in an address delivered before the literary societies of Delaware College, in 1852, went out of his way to eulogize Calvinism in these terms: "Calvinism and human liberty flourish side by side, or rather the latter is not found without the former; and nowhere at this hour is there _true freedom_, true independence of opinion in Church or State where Calvinism is not the foundation." Calvinists must be very forgetful of their history, or they must suppose that all others are ignorant or forgetful of it. But it is not my intention, at present, to reply to this extravagant pretension. I do not object to the publication of these views from the pulpit and the press. If our brethren entertain them, they have a right to publish them. It is manly to do so. But it may be obligatory upon us to stand up for what we believe to be the truth, and to oppose what we believe to be error. I shall endeavor to do so, the Lord being my helper. DISCOURSE II. "In whom also we have obtained an inheritance, being predestinated according to the purpose of him who worketh all things after the counsel of his own will."--EPH. i. 11. IN the preceding discourse, I called attention to the fact that the opponents of Calvinism are frequently charged with misunderstanding through ignorance, or grossly misrepresenting it. I read passages from several, charging us with calumny, defamation, slander, and even blasphemy. In view of these charges, often made and reiterated, and widely spread, with high official sanction, and likely to be repeated whenever Calvinism is boldly investigated, I deemed it necessary to show, by numerous quotations, that I do not misrepresent it when I impute to it the doctrine that God has willed, proposed, and decreed whatsoever comes to pass, and that, in some way or other, he brings to pass whatever occurs. For this purpose, I referred to the acknowledged publications of the Presbyterian, Congregational, Baptist, and Reformed Dutch Churches. I noted, particularly, that this doctrine is held by the New School Presbyterians, because it is supposed by many that they have abandoned it, and that their rejection of it constitutes one of the points of difference between them and the Old School. I also quoted largely to show that earnest efforts are in progress to exalt Calvinism, and disparage Arminianism and Arminians. We now propose to test this dogma of Calvinism by reason and Scripture. We shall not, at present, enter upon the examination of the proof-texts, though we hold the Holy Scriptures to be the ultimate authority on all theological questions, but shall compare it with acknowledged Scripture principles. And, yet, it may be very reasonably expected that some attention will be paid to the passage which, according to custom, has been selected as presenting the subject of discourse. It is the very first proof -text adduced by the _Westminster Confession of Faith_, but it fails to meet the demand made upon it. It does not contain the doctrine sought to be proved. It does, indeed, assert the predestination of believers to certain blessings, a point not in dispute, and also that they are predestinated to these blessings according to God's purpose; but all this is very far from teaching that _God has foreordained whatsoever comes to pass_. The proof is supposed by some to be contained in the remaining portion of the passage--"who worketh all things," &c. But we must take the entire expression of the apostle in order to get his meaning, "who worketh all things after the counsel of his own will." By this he means to say, merely, that, in whatever God does towards men or angels, he is uncontrolled. He carries out his own free purposes. He does not conform to the counsels of others. He does not yield to the clamors of discontented subjects, or make concessions to contemporary and independent powers. The words are thus paraphrased by McKnight, a Calvinistic commentator: "According to the gracious purpose of him, who effectually accomplisheth all his benevolent intentions, by the most proper means, according to the wise determination of his own will." We may, with as much propriety, argue from the apostolic injunction, "Do all things without murmurings and disputings" (Phil. ii. 14), that Christians are required by the law of God to _do all things_ absolutely, as, from the clause under consideration, that God has decreed and executes whatsoever comes to pass. But, if our brethren insist upon so understanding the apostle, we shall hold them to their interpretation. We shall not allow them to contradict it whenever the exigencies of the argument may render it convenient. 1. In the first place, this theory of predestination is inconsistent with the doctrine of man's free moral agency. The force of this objection is readily perceived. It is _impossible_ that we should be free agents, when all the _external circumstances_ that affect us, and all our _mental_ and _bodily acts_, are predetermined and brought about by God. Man is thus reduced to, a mere passive instrument. He is nothing more than a complicate and curious machine--a man-machine, an automaton--whose every movement is conceived, determined, directed, controlled by a supervisor. It avails nothing to apply to him terms which signify freedom. We may say that he has _the power to will_; that he _actually wills_; but the difficulty is not relieved. The being who endowed him with this faculty has foreordained and brings to pass, by a well-directed agency, every movement of that faculty. We may say that he _wills according to his inclinations_, and is therefore free; but God has decreed and brings to pass all his inclinations. We may say that he acts according to his will, and not against his will; still nothing is gained, since all his purposes, and the movements by which he executes them, are equally preordained and brought to pass by God. We may say that he is _conscious_ of _acting freely_, but this is a mere delusion, if the doctrine we are considering be true. By the very logic which reconciles it with free agency in man, I will undertake to prove that every steamboat and every railroad-engine is a free agent. Calvinistic free agency must be something analogous to Bishop Hughes's freedom of conscience, indestructible and inviolable, in its very nature and essence; so that a man may be denied the privilege of reading the Bible, or of propagating or entertaining any opinions contrary to the Church of Rome--he may be thrown into prison, and put to torture, for refusing to subscribe to its dogmas, or to worship according to forms which he holds to be idolatrous--and yet he enjoys freedom of conscience. So, according to the teachings of modern Calvinism, man is a free agent, notwithstanding all the _circumstances_ which _surround_ him, with all his _sensations, emotions, desires, purposes, volitions_ and _acts_ were _decreed from eternity_, and brought to pass by a power which he can _neither control_ nor _resist_. This free agency must then be something absolutely inviolable in its nature and essence, something which God himself cannot destroy or impinge except by terminating the existence of the being in whom it inheres. As Bishop Hughes's freedom of conscience is very different from what is generally understood to be freedom of conscience, so the free agency which may be made to harmonize with this doctrine, is different from what is usually understood to be free agency. It is not the power to act otherwise than as we do act, or to choose or will otherwise than as we do choose or will. 2. This doctrine, being at variance with man's free agency, is, by necessary consequence, at variance with his _moral accountability_. There would be as much reason in holding the _atmosphere_ accountable, or the _trees_, or the _grass_, or the _clods_, or the _stones_. All his _views_, _feelings_, and _volitions_, being thus predetermined, he can no more be accountable for them than for the _circumstances_ of his _birth_, or the _natural color_ of his _skin_. He cannot reasonably be made the subject of commendation or censure--of reward or punishment. 3. It also follows, from this doctrine, that there is not, and cannot be any such thing as sin. If man be not a free agent--if he be incapable of acting otherwise than as predetermined by Jehovah--he is incapable of either virtue or vice. It would be as reasonable to predicate virtue or vice of the flux and reflux of the tides, or the circulation of the blood, as of man or angel under such circumstances. And, mark! if we, for the sake of the argument, should admit that man is capable of _virtue_, notwithstanding all his acts are foreordained and rendered infallibly certain by a power which he cannot successfully resist, he is still incapable of _vice_. He cannot sin, for this plain, all-sufficient reason--he cannot act otherwise than according to the will of God. "Nothing comes to pass in time but what was decreed from eternity." "None of the decrees of God can be defeated or fail of execution." So Calvinism explicitly affirms. Further, while the inference that there is and can be no sin is fairly deducible from the supposition that man is not a free agent, it does not depend upon that supposition. Let it be admitted, for the purpose of the argument, that man is a free agent, and capable of sinning, notwithstanding all his actions were predetermined, and what is the state of the case? _Still he has not sinned_. He has done nothing but what God freely willed and ordained he should do. The perfect obedience of Christ consisted in his doing in all respects the will of the Father. Either, then, it may be sinful to do the will of God, or there is--there can be no sin. I do not know of any way in which this consequence can be avoided. I do not believe that it can. Let us take another view of this point. Let the advocates of this doctrine succeed in proving that man is a free agent, in the proper sense of the term, and capable of sinning, notwithstanding all his actions are decreed and brought to pass by God, and we have before us this remarkable result: _Every individual of the human race, while in a state of probation, without a knowledge of God's predetermination respecting him, and without any controlling influence brought to bear upon him, has, in every instance, willed and acted in accordance with the will of God_. The result is _universal voluntary holiness_. Here, then, is a dilemma. Either there is _no possibility of sin or of holiness_, or, if there be a possibility of sin or of holiness, there is, in fact, _no sin_ --there is, in fact, _universal holiness_. 4. If it be asserted that sin exists, notwithstanding this perfect coincidence between the will of God and the conduct of his creatures, it will follow, most conclusively, that _God is the author of sin_. He has decreed and brings to pass all the sensations, perceptions, emotions, inclinations, volitions, and overt actions, of the whole human race. Various attempts have been made to avoid this result, but they are all futile. The _Confession of Faith_ says: "God, from all eternity, did, by the most wise and holy counsel of his own will, freely and unchangeably ordain whatsoever comes to pass; yet so as thereby neither is God the author of sin." We pay all respect to this as a disclaimer. Our Presbyterian brethren do not intend to charge God with being the author of sin. But we are compelled to regard these propositions as directly contradictory to each other. Is not a being the author of that which he originally designs and decrees, and subsequently brings into existence? and is it not maintained that he decreed from all eternity, and brings to pass whatever occurs? Either sin has not come to pass, or God is the author of it. It is useless to say that God has brought to pass the act, but not the sinfulness. The sinfulness has come to pass. It is useless to say that sin is man's, and not God's act. Man does nothing but what God has decreed, and, in some infallible way leads him to do. "God's power," says Dr. Chalmers, "gives birth to _every purpose_; it gives impulse to _every desire_, gives shape and color to _every conception_." Says Fisher, in his _Catechism_: "God not only efficaciously concurs in producing the action as to the matter of it, but likewise predetermines the creature to such or such an action, and not to another, shutting up all other ways of acting, and leaving only that open which he had determined to be done." We might, with vastly more plausibility, deny that Paul was the author of his Epistles, because he employed an amanuensis, or, for the same reason, deny that Milton was the author of _Paradise Lost_. It is useless here to speculate upon the reasons which induced God to ordain and bring sin to pass. We are now concerned with the fact merely, and we hence conclude that he is the author of sin and the only being properly answerable for it. 5. If the advocates of this doctrine should still insist that it does not make God the author of sin; that man is a free agent, and properly responsible for his actions, notwithstanding they are foreordained; I press them with this plain consequence--God is, to say the least, a participant in the sinning. And he is not merely a _coadjutor_, but the _principal_--the principal in _every instance of sinning_. He originates the first conception of the sinning act. He forms the plan. He arranges all the circumstances. He, by his providence, applies the influence by which the result is effectuated. Here, then, is a dilemma from which there is no escape. Either God is, _strictly and properly_, the _author of sin_, or he is a _participant_ therein, and not merely accessory, but _the principal_, the _plotter_, the _prime mover_, the RINGLEADER thereof. 6. Another inevitable consequence of this doctrine is that, admitting the existence of sin, God _prefers sin to holiness_ in every instance in which sin takes place. This consequence is too plain to require much illustration. If God _freely_ ordained whatsoever comes to pass; if he was not under a fatal necessity of ordaining just as he did; if he had it in his power to ordain otherwise, he could have ordained holiness in the place of sin. The fact that he was free and unnecessitated in his decrees, and could ordain the one or the other, according to his good pleasure, is proof substantial that he prefers sin to holiness in every instance in which sin occurs. Had he preferred holiness, he could have decreed it, and it would have come to pass. This consequence has been admitted, and is, by many Calvinists at this day, maintained as a doctrine. In fact, it has been a matter of dispute amongst Calvinists--Dr. Taylor, of Connecticut, taking one side, and Dr. Tyler, of Connecticut, taking the other. But what a shocking conception! (See _Christian Spectator_, vol. iv. p. 465.) 7. Nor can we resist the further conclusion, from these premises, that sin is not a real evil, but, on the contrary, a good, and that in every instance in which it is preferred to holiness, it is worthy of such preference. This reasoning proceeds upon the assumption that God is a being of infinite goodness and wisdom, and, therefore, always prefers good to evil, being, of course, always able to distinguish the one from the other. This inference also has been admitted by many of the advocates of Calvinistic predestination. They distinctly affirm that sin is the necessary means of the greatest good, and, as such, so far. as it exists, is preferable on the whole to holiness in its stead--that its existence is, on the whole, for the best. I give as authority for this affirmation, a publication of the Presbyterian Board, entitled _Old and New Theology_. On the first page we find this explicit statement: "It has been a common sentiment among New England divines, since the time of Edwards, that sin is the necessary means of the greatest good, and as such, so far as it exists, is preferable, on the whole, to holiness in its stead." I do not charge Dr. Musgrave with holding this inference as a doctrine, and yet it is very clearly asserted in an argument designed to prove the Calvinistic doctrine of foreordination. "There must," says he, "have been a time when no creature existed, as God alone is from everlasting. Before creation, and from all eternity, all things that are possible, as well as all things that actually have or will come to pass in time, must have been perfectly known to God. He must, therefore, have known what beings and events would, on the whole, be most for his own glory, and the greatest good of the universe; and therefore, as an infinitely wise, benevolent, and Almighty Being, he could not but have chosen or determined, that such beings and events, and SUCH ONLY, should come to pass in time." "The conclusion is, therefore, to our minds, irresistible, that if God be infinitely wise, benevolent, and powerful, and perfectly foreknew what beings and events would, _on the whole_, BE BEST, he must have chosen and ordained that they should exist, or be permitted to occur; and that, consequently, everything that does actually come to pass in time, has been eternally and unchangeably foreordained." Here it is argued that God, as an infinitely wise, benevolent, and powerful being, must have _known_ and _preferred_, and _decreed_, that just such beings should exist and events occur, as would, on the whole, be most for his own glory, and the _greatest good_ of the universe, _and such only_; and that, consequently, he has eternally, and unchangeably foreordained everything that does actually come to pass in time. Now it is plain that all the events which have come to pass in time must answer this description--must be for the best, for his highest glory--or the argument falls to the ground. The Rev. Jas. McChain, one of the editors of the _Calvinistic Magazine_, in a discourse published in that periodical, December, 1847, thus undertakes to prove that God "has foreordained whatsoever comes to pass:" "Jehovah is infinitely _wise_; does he not, therefore, know what it is BEST should take place? He is infinitely _benevolent_; will he not choose, then, that _shall take place_ which he knows is FOR THE BEST? He is infinitely _powerful_; can he not, therefore, cause _to take place_ what he _chooses shall take place_? The Most High is infinitely wise, and _knows_ what it is BEST should come to pass--benevolent, and _chooses_ to bring to pass WHAT IS BEST--powerful, and _does_ bring to pass what he chooses as BEST." "Surely his infinite wisdom and goodness will choose and determine whatsoever it is best should take place, and his almighty power will perfectly carry out his plan." It is not my intention, at this time, to point out the fallacy of these arguments. I quote them to show that the consequence which I have deduced from the doctrine that God has decreed whatsoever comes to pass--that sin is not an evil, but a good, and worthy of being preferred to holiness in every instance in which it occurs-- is actually recognized as a truth, and used as a premise in proof of the Calvinistic doctrine of the decrees. 8. And how can we avoid adopting as a legitimate conclusion, the licentious infidel maxim, that "WHATEVER IS, IS RIGHT"? 9. It is obvious, at the first glance, that this doctrine destroys all reasonable ground for repentance. Of what shall we repent? Of sinning? Let it first be proved that, according to this doctrine, any one has sinned, or can sin. But, if sin be possible, yet in every instance of sinning we have done the will of God. He freely and unchangeably predestinated the act from all eternity. His providence brought it to pass. Before we feel ourselves authorized to repent we should be sure that God has repented of his purposes and acts. And, even then, there would be no good reason for repentance upon the part of his creatures. For, if we, for the sake of the argument, allow that they are able to act otherwise than as they do, notwithstanding the Divine decrees, they are morally bound to submit cordially to those decrees, leaving to God the responsibility of decreeing wisely. Hence there is no room for repentance. This is precisely the application made of this doctrine by an intelligent Calvinistic lady of New England, Mrs. Elizabeth Stuart Phelps, daughter of the late Prof. Stuart, of Andover, and authoress of certain very popular works. In the memorial of her, prefixed to _The Last Leaf of Sunny Side_, she is quoted as saying in her diary: "I never _could_ understand or divine before, my claim upon the Deity's overruling care. Now I do get a glimpse of it--enough to make me feel like an infant in its mother's arms. Every event, of every day, of every hour, is unalterably fixed. Each day is but the turning over a new leaf of my history, already written by the finger of God--every letter of it. Should I wish to re-write--to alter--one? Oh, no! no!! no!!!" Here, you perceive, is no ground for repentance. It is repudiated. She would not alter an event of her life, a letter of her history. She carries this acquiescence in the Divine decrees so far as to say in another place: "I have no hope but in my Saviour and if He has not saved me, then this too, I know, is just, and God's decrees I would not change." 10. Nor can prayer be more reasonable than repentance. For what shall we pray? That God would reverse his eternal decrees? This would be to reflect upon his attributes. Are his decrees wrong? Besides, the doctrine in question affirms them to be unchangeable. Shall we pray that God may accomplish them? This can add nothing to the certainty of their accomplishment; for they cannot be defeated. So we are distinctly assured by the advocates of this theory. The only apology that can be offered for prayer, on the part of those who believe this doctrine, is that it is decreed they shall pray. But a prayer offered in strict logical accordance with this theory would be a manifest absurdity. 11. Another legitimate consequence of this doctrine is that man is not in a state of probation. There is a flat contradiction between the idea that man is in a state of probation and the affirmation that the whole series of volitions, states, actions, and events of his life is fixed, unchangeably, by the Divine decree, before he comes into existence. I have long regarded this as an inevitable deduction from the Calvinistic doctrine of decrees, but it was not until lately that I found it actually advanced as a doctrine by a Calvinistic writer. On page 77 of _Fisher's Catechism_, the following occurs:-- "_Q_. Is there any danger in asserting that man is not now in a state of probation, as Adam was?--_Ans_. No." "_Q_. What, then, is the dangerous consequence of asserting that fallen man is still in a state of probation?--_Ans_. This dangerous consequence would follow, that mankind are hereby supposed to be still under a covenant of works that can justify the doer!" I do not mean to be understood that this dogma is held by all Calvinists, but, whether held or not, it is a legitimate inference. 12. Let us now notice the bearing of this strange tenet upon some of the leading doctrines and facts of Christianity. Take the doctrine of the Fall--which is understood to be that God made man in his own image--holy; righteous, capable of standing in his integrity, yet liable to be seduced from it; and that man voluntarily transgressed, brought guilt and depravity upon himself, and involved his posterity in moral degradation and ruin. But, if the Calvinistic doctrine of decrees be true, there was obviously no fall in the case. There was a change in the condition of Adam, but that change was a part of God's eternal plan. Nothing occurred but what belonged to the divinely predetermined series of events. If Adam had acted otherwise than as he did, God's original purposes would have been frustrated. If there were any fall, it should be predicated of the Divine decrees rather than of the human subject thereof. 13. Again: The plan of redemption, it is supposed, was designed to rescue him from a deplorable, desperate condition, in which his perverseness had placed him; but, if the doctrine we are considering be true, the redemption, so called, is nothing but a part of a chain of predetermined events. He _was, and is, at no time_, in _any other condition_ than was _devised_ and _decreed_ by _Jehovah as most conducive to his own glory_ and _the highest good of the universe_. Thus, the redemption, about which so much is said, is resolved into a mere nullity. 14. Again: The glorious doctrine of Christ crucified thrills the bosom of the church with intense emotions of fear, and penitence, and hope, and gratitude, and joy. Paul attached so much importance to it as to say: "For I determined to know nothing among men save Christ and him crucified." But, view it in the light of the doctrine that God has decreed whatsoever comes to pass, and what does it amount to? The sufferings and death of Christ derive their importance from the fact of their being propitiatory--an atonement. But for what shall they atone? For acts which were determined upon, as a part of God's plan, for his glory, and the good of the universe, millions of ages before the human actors were born; for acts which no more need to be atoned for than the actions of Jesus Christ himself. To say that those acts were wrong is to reflect upon the decrees of God, since "nothing has come to pass but what was decreed by him;" since, according to Mr. Barnes, we are "to interpret the decrees of God by facts, and the actual result, by whatever means brought about, expresses the design of God." If men need atonement, they need it for doing the will of God, and for nothing else. Need I add that, in view of the Calvinistic doctrine of decrees, the doctrine of atonement by the sufferings and death of Christ is absolute nonsense? 15. Again: I affirm of this doctrine that it renders utterly baseless the _doctrine of pardon_, or the remission of sins. It renders the offer of pardon a mockery. For what is pardon offered? For _doing the will of God_--for doing just _what he decreed_ we should do; for _carrying into effect_ his _eternal counsels_. How can any man need pardon if this doctrine be true? Should it be said, in reply, that although the decrees of God have been invariably fulfilled, yet his _precepts_ have been violated, I rejoin that the violation of these precepts was, according to the Calvinistic hypothesis, specifically _decreed_. Unless decreed, it could not have come to pass. Hence, the violation was inevitable, from the very nature of the case. God offers pardon to his creatures, who have invariably, from the commencement of their being, fulfilled his decrees. He offers pardon to them for violating commands which it was impossible for them to keep, inasmuch as he had eternally decreed that they should not keep them, and his decrees are infinitely wise and holy, and cannot be, frustrated. Further, if God's decrees are righteous (and we are told explicitly by the creed we are reviewing that they had their origin in his "wise and holy counsel"), it follows that his precepts must be unrighteous, whenever they are assumed to be in opposition to his decrees; and surely no one can need pardon for pursuing a righteous course in opposition to an unrighteous one. If it be said that his precepts and his decrees are all equally righteous, it follows that a course in direct opposition, in all respects, to a righteous law is, nevertheless, a righteous course, and thus the distinction between righteousness and unrighteousness is destroyed. View the subject in whatever light you may, and the offer of pardon in connection with the Calvinistic doctrine of decrees, becomes an impertinence and an absurdity. 16. And what is the effect of the Calvinistic theory of predestination upon the doctrine of _regeneration_? Regeneration is usually understood to be a change by which unholy dispositions --dispositions at variance with the character and will of God --are substituted by those in accordance therewith. But, if Calvinism be true, regeneration is nothing more than a preordained change from doing the will of God perfectly in one way, to doing it perfectly in another way. 17. A consequence of this theory has been incidentally brought to view in illustrating a preceding argument, which deserves a distinct statement. It is that God has two hostile wills, in relation to the same thing--his decrees, and his published commands and prohibitions. He has enjoined certain modes of action, by the most solemn legislation, and yet decreed, from all eternity, that multitudes of those whom he has subjected to those obligations, shall constantly act at variance therewith; so that multitudes of human beings are doing his will perfectly, and yet violating his will at the same time. 18. This theory makes all civil government manifestly unreasonable. Civil government proceeds upon the supposition that man is a free agent, capable of choosing and acting otherwise than as he does; but this theory, as we have seen, is incompatible with free agency. And should we admit, for the sake of the argument, that it is not incompatible with free agency, it is still irreconcilable with civil government. Civil legislation prohibits various modes of acting. It assumes that the forbidden actions are wrong-- injurious to society--whereas, this theory represents that all the actions that have been performed, or will be performed, were freely willed, purposed, decreed, foreordained, and brought to pass by God himself--that there are no events, and can be none, but what are in precise harmony with his eternal purposes--so that, unless we suppose that God has from all eternity freely decreed what is wrong and injurious, thereby subjecting human legislators to the necessity of opposing his will in order to prevent outrage and injury, civil legislation admits of no justification or apology. And if this theory is incompatible with civil legislation, it is not less so with civil jurisprudence. Men assume the right to inflict severe punishment upon their fellow-men for doing what cannot be avoided, or for not doing what they cannot possibly do. Or, if it be admitted, for the sake of the argument, that they could act otherwise, still they are punished for doing and suffering, in all respects, the will of God, for merely exemplifying his eternal unchangeable decrees. Take either alternative, and human jurisprudence is palpably iniquitous. The only plausible apology that can be offered in behalf of civil government is, either that human legislators and judges, and jurors, and counsel, and sheriffs, and constables are passive instruments in the hands of God, in which case their proceedings are ludicrous, the actors being mere puppets, exhibiting all the appearance of self-determined motion, and yet, like those famous characters called _Punch_ and _Judy_, acting only as determined and effected by the wire-worker; or, admitting that they are free, and executing their own determinations, they too are doing precisely what God has foreordained; so that, in this respect, the jury who pronounce the verdict of guilty, and the judge who pronounces the sentence of death, are upon a level with the alleged criminal. All have done, and are doing, just the things which God has decreed they should do, neither more nor less. 19. I cannot but regard this theory as subversive of every rational idea of a Divine moral government. Moral government implies precepts or prohibitions, or both, enforced by rewards and penalties, and addressed authoritatively to beings capable of either obedience or disobedience. But of what use are precepts or prohibitions if every act of every individual is fixed beforehand by the Divine decrees? As well might moral codes be addressed to steam-engines or to whirlwinds. The only plausible attempt that can be made to reconcile this theory of predestination with a Divine moral government, is to apply the term moral government to a certain class of preordained influences designed to bring about a certain class of preordained results. But this is moral government in name merely. The process which the advocates of this theory call moral government is just as mechanical as that by which the motions of the planets are controlled. The judiciary system of the Divine government, with all its solemn pageantry, is thus reduced to a mere farce. Beings are arraigned, with great judicial pomp, and condemned, or approved, punished or rewarded for actions which were decreed innumerable ages before they were born, and brought to pass by influences beyond their control, for actions which were devised, decreed, and irresistibly brought to pass by the judge himself. 20. We are now prepared for another consequence, which hangs like a millstone around the neck of this theory, and is sufficient, of itself, to sink it to the depths. It represents God not only as decreeing one thing and commanding another directly adverse thereto, but also as decreeing and bringing to pass opposite and contradictory events. He ordained that one man should believe the Holy Scriptures, and reverence them, and that another man should, at the same time, deny, and hate, and vilify them. He ordained that men should at one period of their lives preach the gospel, and write in favor of Christianity, and at another period become infidel lecturers and disputants. He decreed that some should believe the Calvinistic doctrine of decrees, and teach it, and that others should, at the same time, regard it as false and oppose it. He has ordained that men shall take opposite sides on all great questions, religious, philosophical, or political. He ordained the fugitive slave law and the recent Nebraska and Kansas enactment, and all the opposition from ministers and laymen, with which these measures have been regarded. He has ordained that one party shall laud them as just and patriotic, and that another party shall condemn and hate them as diabolical. He ordained the arrest of that man on the suspicion of murder, with all the conflicting opinions as to his guilt or innocence, the contradictory testimony of the witnesses, the contrary pleadings of the counsel, the verdict of the jury pronouncing him guilty, the sentence of the judge condemning him to death, and the pardon of the governor under the full conviction of his innocence. All the conflicting opinions and acts in the fiercest controversy that ever raged, this theory traces up to the Divine foreordination. 21. It must have appeared to the audience, by this time, that the character of God is fearfully involved in this inquiry. (1). We have already seen that this theory draws after it the logical consequences that God is the author of sin, or, if not the author of it in the strict and proper sense of the term, at least the plotter--the prime mover of it; that he prefers sin to holiness in every instance in which sin takes place; that he regards sin as the necessary means of the greatest good; that he has, at the same time, two hostile wills relative to the same thing. And now what shall we say of his _wisdom_, when we find him decreeing acts, and bringing them to pass, and yet, peremptorily forbidding them--enjoining acts, by formal solemn legislation, which, from all eternity he has foreordained shall never be performed? When we find him ordaining measures for the promotion, and measures for the counteraction, of his own plans? When we find him ordaining all the contradictions and vacillations by which human conduct is diversified and disgraced?--when every example of the most contemptible folly that ever turned the laugh, or the sneer, or the frown, or the sentiment of pity upon its immediate perpetrators, can be traced to the free counsels and designs of God, and finds its origin there? (2). What shall we say of the _sincerity_ of God when we find him enjoining one class of actions on pain of eternal damnation, while yet he has decreed, and by unfailing means brings to pass, in the same subjects, an entirely opposite class?--when we find him threatening, and expostulating, and professing to be grieved, on account of conduct which had its origin in his own free purposes, and is effected by his own providence?--when we find him engaged in enforcing two wills respecting the same thing, one directly the opposite of the other, one of which must necessarily fail of accomplishment, and then, wrathfully charging the failure upon those who have acted in all respects as he ordained they should?--when we find him offering salvation to all men, and solemnly asseverating that it is his will that all men should come to the knowledge of the truth, while yet the sinning, and ultimate damnation of myriads, were decreed innumerable ages before they existed? (3). What shall we say of his _holiness_, when the vilest crimes that ever caused the blush of shame, or the feeling of indignation or horror--_fornication, adultery, bestiality, fraud, oppression, lying, murder_--are in perfect coincidence with his eternal purposes, parts of his great plan, when he chose them in preference to their opposites, with all the means and appliances, great and small, by which they were brought to pass? (4). And what shall we say of his _equity_ and _justice_, when we find him placing his subjects under the necessity of violating his will in one way or another, either his secret decrees or his published enactments? When we find him rewarding one class of his subjects for fulfilling his decrees, and damning another class with everlasting tortures for doing precisely the same thing? (5). And where is his _benevolence_, when he freely chooses, prefers, ordains, and brings to pass all the sin and misery in the universe? 22. Again: It is obvious that this theory lays the foundation of a new system of morals. If it be insisted upon that, notwithstanding God has decreed whatsoever comes to pass, he is perfectly sincere, just, holy, and benevolent, we shall have obtained certain ethical principles which, if carried out into universal practice, would subvert all social order, and destroy all confidence. For instance, it will follow:-- First. That a ruler may secretly will, purpose, decree, foreordain, that his, subjects shall act in a certain way. He may put into operation effective measures to secure their concurrence with his designs. Meantime, he may profess a profound and insuperable dissatisfaction with a very large proportion of the actions which he has predetermined and induced; he may indignantly condemn and threaten to punish the actors; he may do all this, and yet be perfectly sincere. In other words, what men usually regard as the most thorough-paced duplicity, is in entire accordance with perfect sincerity. By this principle, the worst hypocrite that ever lived may be fully vindicated from the charge of hypocrisy. Again: A being may give existence to a vast multitude of other beings, inferior, dependent, but yet intelligent. He may assert over their actions the most absolute control. He may predetermine and bring to pass every one of their actions. He may "shut up all other ways of acting, and leave that only open which he had determined to be done." Meanwhile, he may issue laws peremptorily requiring conduct directly opposite to his unchangeable predeterminations, thus placing his creatures under the dire necessity of violating his secret decrees, or his published laws; and yet he may, with perfect justice, arraign, condemn, and punish them for the violation of these laws, consigning them to eternal misery. This theory will furnish us with a criterion of moral character--a code by which the Neros, Domitians, Caligulas, and Diocletians, whom men have reprobated and abhorred as tyrants, may be triumphantly vindicated and made honorable. Again: A being may be the author, or, if not, in the strictest sense, the author, at least the planner, the prime mover of all the wickedness that ever existed. He may use effective influences in bringing it to pass, so that it may be said, in truth, that he freely and unchangeably preordained and produced it, and yet he may be perfectly holy. And again: A being may purpose, foreordain, and bring to pass all the sin and misery in the universe, and yet be perfectly benevolent. Here is a principle of ethics which will more than cover and vindicate the most atrocious cruelties of the Romish inquisition. The rum-seller, so called, who is the agent of incalculable mischief, may find under it the most ample protection. His designs terminate upon the sale of his liquors, and the gains which result. If he could sell his fiery commodity, and secure his gains without the misery, he would. But, according to our new code of ethical principles, he might go much further. He might design, as an end, all the wretchedness that results, and prosecute his traffic as a means to secure that end, and yet be perfectly benevolent. Is it not plain that this theory, if adopted and carried out to its legitimate logical results, must revolutionize and reverse all our established conceptions of wisdom, sincerity, holiness, equity, justice, and benevolence, and introduce an entirely new estimate of moral conduct? 23. Further: This theory furnishes the most complete justification of all the conduct of the worst men that ever lived, both by the ethical principles which may be deduced from it, and by the single consideration that their every action is in perfect harmony with the Divine will. The New Testament speaks of men being without excuse; but I ask, what better excuse can be desired than that the conduct in question is in precise accordance with the will of God? Men sometimes think it an apology to say that they acted hastily--that they were misled by others--that they were not aware of the mischief likely to result from their course; but this doctrine puts them at once upon the highest possible ground of justification. The poor reprobate may be silenced, at the day of judgment, by the terrors which surround him, and by the stern authority of the judge, but _not by the want of a valid plea_. When the sentence shall go forth consigning him to perdition for the deeds done in the body, he will have in readiness, whether allowed to utter it or not, the unanswerable answer: "Lord, the deeds for which I am condemned were in all respects what thou didst predetermine. I have executed from first to last thy wise and holy counsels. Had I acted otherwise, I should have frustrated thy free purposes, formed before the foundation of the world. I have, indeed, gone contrary to thy published law, but that thou didst render inevitable by making that law antagonistic to thy eternal decree, which thou dost not allow to be thwarted, in any instance, by man or angel." This plea would be equally conclusive before any human tribunal. There are Calvinistic lawyers, or lawyers who are members of Calvinistic churches or congregations. The names of some of these are appended to a note soliciting for publication Dr. Boardman's sermons on _Election_. In defending alleged criminals, men of their profession often tax their ingenuity to the utmost for arguments. If the insanity of the prisoner can be established, they expect his acquittal, though he may have perpetrated the fatal violence. But why do they never offer, in behalf of the prisoner intrusting his case to them, that he has done nothing but what God willed and decreed from all eternity he should do? that, from the beginning to the end of the affair, he was but executing the counsels of Heaven--counsels which Heaven never suffers to be frustrated, either as to the end, or the instrument. Some of them believe the doctrine, and desire that the public should believe it. Why, then, do they never plead it when pledged to give their client the benefit of every available argument? Is it nothing to be able to say for him that he has not swerved a hair's-breadth from the designs of the great Sovereign of the universe, at whose judgment-seat all the decisions of human tribunals will be reviewed? They dare not offer such a plea. They know that common sense would laugh them out of countenance, if not out of court. And if all present were believers in the doctrine, they could not attempt to reduce it to its legitimate practical application without laughing in each other's faces-- such is its essential absurdity. They may circulate it in sermons, in which eloquent nonsense is drivelled with impunity, but they will not venture to propound it in a court, where common sense and equity bear sway. 24. If this doctrine be true, it is wholly unnecessary for any of you to impose any restraint upon your passions or wills. Are you tempted to indulge in sensuality, or to defraud your neighbor, and even to assassinate him? And does the inquiry arise in your mind whether the act to which you are tempted is according to the will of God? You have only to do it, and the result proves that it is decreed. So says Mr. Barnes: "The result, by whatever means brought about, expresses the design of God." If the act be not decreed, you cannot do it, though you try. If you can, it is decreed _that you should_; and your doing it is as inevitable as destiny itself. So you may just go forward, and the result will be right; that is, if God's decrees are right. 25. It is also an obvious consequence of this doctrine that no man can contribute anything to hip personal salvation; that his salvation or damnation is fixed wholly by the Divine decrees. He. cannot influence his destiny by any effort he can make. There is no use in his trying. Indeed, the _Westminster Confession of Faith_ informs us directly that man is "altogether passive" in "regeneration," and that his "perseverance" "depends not upon his own free will, but upon the immutability of the decree of election." So that all the exhortations of the gospel and of the pulpit, are utterly irrelevant. There is a very significant passage bearing upon this point in Chalmer's discourse on Predestination: "And now," says he, "you can have no difficulty in understanding how it is that we make our calling and election sure. _It is not in the power of the elect to make their election surer in itself than it really is, for this is a sureness which is not capable of receiving any addition_. It is not in the power of the elect to make it surer to God--for all futurity is submitted to his all-seeing eye, and his absolute knowledge stands in need of no confirmation. But there is such a thing as the elect being ignorant for a time of their own election, and their being made sure of it in the way of evidence and discovery." The amount is that a man may ascertain by exertion the fact of his election, but he can do nothing towards securing it. Thus Mr. Wesley's famous consequence is established. "The elect shall be saved, do what they will; the reprobate shall be damned, do what they can." It is plain from these reasonings that this doctrine tends to spiritual inactivity, and countenances licentiousness. But we are told, by Dr. Boardman, that the Divine "decrees are not the rule of our duty;" that "we are not held responsible for not conforming to them;" that "we are not bound to act with the least reference to them." (p. 45.) What! The subjects of a government not bound to act with the least reference to the decrees of its sovereign!--not responsible for not conforming to them!! This is surely a strange doctrine. It is an indirect concession that the practical bearing of the Calvinistic doctrine of decrees cannot be defended. But it is said that we have no right to make God's secret decrees our rule. Very true. We are not arguing from his secret decrees, but from what our brethren profess to know. If the doctrine in question be a secret, we would like to know by what authority it is so confidently stated in the _Confession of Faith_ and the _Catechism_. How did they come by the knowledge of God's secret decree? They may claim to be better educated than we are, and more intelligent, to have minds of a superior natural constitution; but we protest against their claiming to be intrusted with the secrets of heaven. 26. This wonderful doctrine makes out the devil and his angels to be faithful servants of God. They have done, throughout the past, and are doing now, precisely what God, in his wise and holy counsel, foreordained they should do. 27. It leads to Universalism. If all beings do as God has decreed, upon what ground can God punish any of them, then, in futurity? You have only to connect with this doctrine the declaration that God is benevolent, or just, and Universalism follows. 28. It leads to rank infidelity. It is to my mind more reasonable to believe that God has made no written revelation of his will, than that he has revealed such a doctrine as this. Let the opinion become prevalent that it is a doctrine of the Bible, and, as the consequence, the Bible will be rejected by thousands, yea, hundreds of thousands. It is impossible for the ablest disputant to maintain a respectable argument against infidelity while standing upon this ground. He must assume the opposite ground, as the basis of his argument, or he will fail signally. The infidel objects to the Bible that it represents God as sanctioning crime, and making favorites of its perpetrators, and hence concludes that it cannot be true. The usual reply is that, so far from having sanctioned vice and its perpetrators, he has solemnly prohibited it; that he holds the perpetrator guilty, condemns him to severe punishment, and will remit that punishment only in view of repentance, and reformation, and an atonement which fully vindicates the Divine government, and most impressively manifests its abhorrence of the course pursued by the transgressor. But what says this doctrine? That God has freely, and from all eternity _willed, decreed, foreordained, whatsoever_ comes to pass. The infidel objects that the Bible contains contradictions, and hence cannot be the word of God. The usual answer admits that God cannot contradict himself, but denies that the Bible is chargeable with self -contradiction. Whereas, this doctrine declares that God has decreed and brought to pass all the contradictions that were ever uttered. Can it be that God is the author of a book which represents him as ordaining and bringing to pass all the acts of crime and folly that were ever committed, including all the lies that were ever uttered, as having two hostile wills in relation to the same event, as decreeing that his creatures should pursue a certain course, and yet commanding them to pursue a contrary course, and then, damning them, thousands upon thousands, for doing what he decreed they should do? It is impossible for the infidel to frame a stronger argument than this doctrine supplies him with. I have shown, unanswerably, I think, that this doctrine leads, by obvious deduction, to the doctrine that God prefers sin to holiness in every instance in which sin takes place, and that sin is the necessary means of the greatest good. I will now quote an eminent Calvinistic minister upon the tendencies of this doctrine. He is commenting upon what he calls "the third solution" of the question, "For what reason has God permitted sin to enter the universe?" which he states to be that "God chose that sin should enter the universe as the necessary means of the greatest possible good. Wherever it exists, therefore, it is, in the whole, better than holiness would be in its place"--the very doctrine which we are told by high Calvinistic authority, has been a "common sentiment among New England divines since the days of Edwards." He says:-- "The third solution has been extensively adopted by philosophers, especially on the continent of Europe; and its ultimate reaction on the public mind had no small share, we believe, in creating that universal skepticism which at last broke forth upon Europe, in all the horrors of the French Revolution. While the profoundest minds were speculating themselves into the belief that sin was the necessary means of the greatest good, better on the _whole_, in each instance, than holiness would have been in its place--common men were pressing the inquiry, 'Why, then, ought it to be punished?' Voltaire laid hold of this state of things, and assuming the principle in question to be true, carried round its application to the breast of millions. In his _Candide_, one of the most amusing tales that was ever written, he introduces a young man of strong passions and weak understanding, who had been taught this doctrine by a metaphysical tutor. They go out into the world, to 'promote the greatest good' by the indulgence of their passions; certain that, _on the whole_, each sin is better than holiness would have been in its place. But when Candide begins to suffer the natural consequences of his vices, he feels it to be but a poor consolation, that others are now reaping the benefit of his sin. Is it surprising that such a work induced thousands to disbelieve in the holy providence of God, and prepared multitudes to 'do evil that good might come?'" (_Christian Spectator_, vol. i. pp. 378, 9.) It would be easier, and more reasonable, to believe in a plurality of gods, than that one God should be capable of such conflicting counsels. And this would bring us to the verge of Atheism. 29. This doctrine covers with the wing of its sanction all the errors that were ever promulgated or conceived. I do not say that they all grow out of it, but that it justifies them. Why should I oppose Romanism, or Universalism, or Socinianism, or Puseyism, or Infidelity, when they are all decreed by Jehovah? Christendom presents the strange spectacle of men prying into systems, bringing to the light, condemning, and holding up to public odium their errors of theory and practice, and, yet, holding as a fundamental article of their own creed that God from all eternity freely decreed, whatsoever comes to pass. Let them first reject and refute the error which vindicates all errors. What right has a Calvinist to find fault with anything? 30. Again: It clearly follows, from this theory, that any attempt to prevent the commission of sin in our neighbors, is not only in opposition to the primary--the original will, the eternal purposes of God, but is also in opposition to the highest good of the universe; and that we should, as reasonable beings, rejoice in every instance of sin--of lying, robbery, uncleanness, and murder--as in every instance of holiness. 31. I do not identify this doctrine with pagan fatalism, but I hold that it is akin thereto, and that it tends to the same practical results. It is, in my opinion, worse than pagan fatalism. That doctrine represents all events and actions as strictly necessary, but it binds the gods as well as men. All bow to that mysterious power called fate. Thus it relieves the gods of all blame. But Calvinism asserts the freedom of Jehovah, and then imputes to him the foreordination of whatever occurs in the whole universe, and thus, by plain logical consequence, fastens upon him all the just blame of whatever is exceptionable. Calvinism is not pagan fatalism. It is Christian fatalism. It is fatalism baptized. DISCOURSE III. "In whom also we have obtained an inheritance, being predestinated according to the purpose of Him who worketh all things according to the counsel of his own will."--EPH. i. 11. IN the preceding discourse, I showed that the Calvinistic doctrine of the Divine decrees leads to the following consequences, namely, that man is not a free agent; that he is not properly accountable for his conduct; that there is no sin in the world; or, that, if there be sin, God is the author of it; or, that, if he be not strictly and properly the author, he is at least the prime mover of it; that, if sin exist, God prefers sin to holiness in every instance in which sin takes place; that sin is not an evil, but a real good; that whatever is is right; that there is no reasonable ground for repentance, or for prayer, or for pardon; that regeneration is nothing else than a change from perfect conformity to the will of God in one way, to perfect conformity to the will of God in another way; that the doctrines of the fall and redemption by Christ are gross and palpable absurdities; that man is not in a state of probation; that God has two hostile wills relative to the same thing; that, not only are his secret decrees and his written laws at variance, but he has also decreed and brings to pass opposite and contradictory events; that civil government is wholly unreasonable; that there is in fact no moral government; that God is not holy, or just, or wise, or truthful, or benevolent; or, that if God be nevertheless holy, and wise, and true, and just, and good, we have the foundation of a new system of morals, which, if adopted, must reverse all our estimates of moral character; that man cannot contribute anything to his personal salvation; that the devil and his angels are as faithful servants of God as any of his elect. It was shown that it leads to Universalism and to rank infidelity; that it sanctions all the errors that were ever promulgated; that it furnishes a complete justification of the worst conduct of the worst men, that ever lived, tends to paralyze all effort to resist temptation, and condemns as impious any opposition to the commission of sin by our neighbors, and, finally, that it is worse than the pagan doctrine of fatalism. I shall now endeavor to present the true doctrine. As has been said, we do not object to the doctrine of predestination, but to the Calvinistic doctrine. The question is not whether God is a Sovereign, or whether he has his purposes or decrees, but how does he exercise his sovereignty--what are his purposes and decrees? We deny that he has foreordained whatsoever comes to pass. For all our information upon this great question we must inquire of the sacred oracles. We understand them to teach that God, foreseeing, though not ordaining, the transgression of our first parents, decreed that it should subject them to the penalty of death--eternal death. "In the day that thou eatest thereof, thou shalt surely die." He also decreed that their condition should not be at once irremediable, but that a second probation should be allowed them. He also decreed that an atonement should be made, by which the claims of his government should be vindicated, while he granted to the offenders a respite, and the advantages of a new trial, and which should lay a firm foundation for whatever acts of mercy should be extended to them and their posterity. He further decreed that this atonement should be effected by the suffering and death of his Son, who, for the purpose of effecting this atonement, should assume our nature, and become God-man. The apostle instructs us that he was "delivered" to suffering and death, "by the determinate counsel and foreknowledge of God." It was also decreed that the benefits of this atonement should extend to all Adam's posterity--that Christ should die for all. He gave him "a ransom for all," that he, "by the grace of God, should taste death for every man." It was also predetermined in the counsels of Heaven, that a change should take place in the administration of the Divine government. The first administration, sometimes called the Adamic law or covenant, was suited to beings perfectly innocent and pure, but not to fallen beings, as it made no provision for pardon or moral restoration. Under its authority the sinner could have no hope. Another decree provides that the Son of God shall bear the sceptre of authority--that the government shall be upon his shoulders. To this arrangement we suppose the words of the Psalmist to refer: "Yet have I set my king upon my holy hill of Zion. I will declare the decree: the Lord hath said unto me, Thou art my Son; this day have I begotten thee. Ask of me, and I will give the heathen for thine inheritance, and the uttermost parts of the earth for thy possession." (Ps. ii. 6, 7, 8.) Also the prayer of the apostle Paul, in which he speaks of "the mighty power" of God, "which he wrought in Christ, when he raised him from the dead, and set him at his own right hand in the heavenly places, far above all principality, and power, and might, and dominion, and every name that is named, not only in this world, but also in that which is to come; and hath put all things under his feet, and gave him to be the head over all things to the church, which is his body, the fulness of him that filleth all in all." (Eph. i. 21, 23.) It is further ordained that, under this new arrangement, faith shall be the condition of the sinner's acceptance with God--that whosoever believeth shall be pardoned justified from all things; that the act of faith which secures the pardon of one sin shall secure the pardon of all then chargeable; that whosoever is pardoned shall be made holy, conformed to the image of the Son of God, and made a child of God by adoption. "For whom he foreknew, them he also did predestinate to be conformed to the image of his Son." "Having predestinated us to the adoption of children by Jesus Christ, unto himself, according to the good pleasure of his will;" that the great mediatorial scheme should be developed in successive dispensations, usually distinguished as the Patriarchal, Jewish, and Christian dispensations; that one nation of people should be selected as the depository of the sacred oracles, and as a theatre for the exhibition of the true religion; that in the fulness of time, Jews and Gentiles should be placed upon one common ground of religious privilege, the partition wall being broken down. It is also decreed that there shall be a general judgment. God hath appointed a day in the which he will judge the world; that there shall be a resurrection of the bodies of men; that the bodies of the saints at the resurrection shall be made very glorious; that the righteous of every age and country shall ultimately be gathered into one glorious place, from which all sin and pain shall be excluded, and shall constitute one undivided family forever. "Father, I will that they also whom thou hast given me be with me where I am, that they may behold my glory." "Having made known unto us the mystery of his will, according to his good pleasure which he hath purposed in himself: That in the dispensation of the fulness of times, he might gather together in one all things in Christ, both which are in Heaven and which are on earth." And, finally, it is decreed that while the righteous shall have life eternal, the wicked, the finally impenitent, and unbelieving, and unholy, shall go away into everlasting punishment--shall be imprisoned in a place originally prepared for the first rebels against the Divine government--the devil and his angels. Such, as I understand it, is the Methodistic, or Arminian, doctrine of the Divine decrees. There is no difficulty in sustaining this doctrine by Scripture. It is not liable to any of the objections which menace fatally the Calvinistic scheme. There is no difficulty in perceiving its harmony with man's free agency and moral accountability. It does not give the slightest occasion for the question whether God is the author of sin. He has issued decrees respecting it; but they are all condemnatory. None of them preordain it. It does not admit the supposition of his being a participant in any unholy deed or device. The question never came up among Methodist divines, whether God prefers, in any instance, sin to holiness? They would not, could not, consider it a debatable question. Nor that other question--Is sin the necessary means of the greatest good? Calvinism is justly entitled to the honor of originating such questions as these. No one would ever think of affirming upon Arminian principles that whatever is is right. Arminianism lays a firm basis for Divine moral government, and also for civil government--for rewards and punishments. It not only relieves the Divine attributes from the fearful suspicions and imputations with which Calvinism dishonors them, but surrounds them with a transcendent glory. It protects the morality of the Bible from the devastating incursions to which Calvinism exposes it, and presents the most powerful incentives to piety. It does not throw the protecting shield of the Divine decrees over every form of error and outrage with which earth is filled, or represent God as having two hostile wills. It forms no entangling alliances with heathen fatalism. We are not under the necessity of warning inquirers against committing themselves to the practical influence of the Arminian doctrine of Divine decrees, by saying, with Dr. Boardman, that "These decrees are not the rule of our duty. We are not held responsible for not conforming to them. We are not bound to act with the least reference to them." The practical bearing of the Arminian doctrine is eminently and obviously salutary. It has not a single aspect which is not favorable to piety and morality. Does a sinner tremble at the word of God? He is made to feel the force of the inspired declaration that the way of transgressors is hard, and to ponder the advantages of reformation? Is he not appalled and paralyzed by the terrible announcement that all his misdeeds, the tendency, if not the nature of which he now contemplates with horror, are the result of a power which he cannot successfully resist; that he is bound to the hateful course of conduct which he deplores, by eternal decrees and that, in despite of any feelings or desires he may have, his course may be predestined to be worse in the future than in the past. O, no! He is assured that God never preordained sin. That he commands all men everywhere to repent, and that what he requires of men he will enable them to do. He is told that nothing binds him to sin but his depravity, that he may avail himself of the powerful influences of the Spirit of life in Christ Jesus, which can make him free from the law of sin and death; and that whom God foreknew, as repenting, and believing, and availing themselves of remedial provisions, he "predestinated to be conformed to the image of his Son"--he hath chosen "to be holy and without blame before him in love." Has the man who is seeking with penitence and prayer the favor of God profoundly humbling views of himself? Does he think it to be a wonderful stretch of condescension and mercy in God to forgive his innumerable and grievous offences? And does he wonder whether God will, in addition to pardoning him, raise him to those high relationships to the Godhead to which he has raised others? Will he extend to me the grace of adoption? Will he constitute and call me his child? Shall I be favored with those blessed intimacies--those varied and manifold advantages of which that relation is the guaranty? How satisfactory the answer! You will. You will be numbered with his sons and daughters, the coheirs with his eternal--his only begotten Son. God hath not left this an open question. "He hath predestinated us to the adoption of children by Jesus Christ unto himself." "For unto as many as received him, to them gave he power to become the sons of God, even to as many as believe in his name." Christians, you entertain high hopes of heaven. And yet, sometimes, it seems too much for your faith that God should confer upon you such blessedness and glory. Your faith almost staggers at the promise. You are ready to say-- "How can it be, thou Heavenly King, That thou should'st us to glory bring-- Make slaves the partners of thy throne, Deck'd with a never-fading crown?" Let your faith be invigorated by the assurance that this is settled beyond dispute by God's eternal purpose. It is decreed. "To him that overcometh will I give to sit down with me on my throne." "In whom also we have obtained an inheritance, being predestinated according to the purpose of him who worketh all things after the counsel of his own will." Nor has this measure been forced upon Jehovah. It is sometimes the case that sovereigns are compelled to yield privileges to restless and revolted subjects. Sometimes contemporary sovereignties combine to force a reluctant ruler into arrangements contrary to his preconceived and preferred policy. Sometimes potent rulers yield their preferences to the sway of sage and influential counsellors, and find themselves committed to a policy which they execute with reluctance, and with exceptions. It is not so with any of the decrees of the Most High. Who, being his counsellor, hath taught him? He "worketh all things according to the counsel of his own will." "It is the Father's good pleasure to give you the kingdom." It is no less the pleasure of the Son: "Father, I will that they also that thou hast given me be with me where I am, that they may behold my glory." And he has power to carry out his purposes to their entire fulfilment. O, how precious is this doctrine of Divine predestination! You may have enemies. There may be those who would deny you a place in the church on earth. You may have been excommunicated and cursed for worshipping the God of your fathers after the manner which some call heresy. Your enemies would fain keep you out of heaven. They profess to be able to do so. But they are mistaken. God has not left it to them to determine who shall enter heaven and who shall not. He has fixed the conditions of salvation independently of their counsels--long before they existed--before the sun began his course. "He will have mercy on whom he will have mercy." To accomplish their end, they must be able to go behind all human arrangements to the decrees, the purposes of heaven, and revoke them. Will they be able to do that? Or, if unable to revoke, or induce him to revoke his decrees, will they be able to defeat them by machinations or physical resistance? Surely not. He will show them "the immutability of his counsels." He will say to them, "My counsel shall stand, and I will do all my pleasure." "There is no wisdom, or understanding, or counsel, against the Lord." "He will make the devices of the people of none effect." "The Lord of Hosts hath purposed, and who shall disannul it." "Hallelujah, for the Lord God omnipotent reigneth!" And how glorious are the prospects which the decrees of God unfold! These bodies must decay. One of those decrees consigns us to the grave; another provides that we shall be recalled--that death shall be conquered--shall be swallowed up of victory. The prearrangements of Heaven respecting the bodies of the saints, are thus disclosed: "It is sown in corruption; it is raised in incorruption. It is sown in dishonor; it is raised in glory. It is sown in weakness; it is raised in power. It is sown a natural body; it is raised a spiritual body." Religion does not extinguish or impair our social feelings, but rather refines and invigorates them; and, among the hopes that we have been led to cherish, is that of a reunion with departed friends in heaven, and a participation in the society of the good of other climes and ages; and it is expressly declared that the redeemed of subsequent ages shall sit down with Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, in the Kingdom of God. And while this doctrine is so full of consolation to the Christian, and so fraught with healthful stimulus to piety, it is terrible to the sinner. He need not think to find anything in it to justify or to apologize for his crime, or his impenitency. Nor may he indulge the hope that whatever may be the destiny of other sinners, he will escape the damnation of hell. There can be no influence brought to bear upon Jehovah sufficient to induce him to swerve in a single instance from his plans. The decrees of God are against him. He that believeth shall be saved. He that believeth not shall be damned. "These shall go away into everlasting punishment." And he has power to execute his decrees. All attempts at resistance will be as nothing. "The Lord reigneth; let the people tremble." I have now presented the two rival theories. There is the Calvinistic doctrine, and there are the consequences to which it leads. We can easily detect the wisdom of the requisition that the teachers of it shall handle it with "special caution," and account for their studiously keeping it out of sight during revivals, and in their ordinary ministrations, and then seeking to divert attention from its practical tendencies by denying that the decrees of God are to be taken as the rule or test of our conduct. But do I not repeat an Arminian slander when I charge them with partially concealing or disguising the doctrine? No! We have high Calvinistic authority for the imputation. The following is the testimony of a distinguished Congregational minister of New England, the Rev. Dr. Harvey:-- "There is a large number of orthodox ministers in New England who, from family alliances, from constitutional delicacy of temper, &c. &c., as I hinted above, will temporize and make _smooth work_, from an honest conviction that a full disclosure of the truth would _alienate their hearers_. The bitter revilings of base men have been gradually and insensibly leading Calvinistic ministers to _hide their colors_, and _recede_ from their ground. Dr. Spring's Church, at Newburyport, Park Street, especially in Dr. Griffin's day, and a few others, have stood like the Macedonian Phalanx. But others have gone backward. _Caution_, CAUTION, has been the watchword of ministers. When they do preach the old standard doctrines, it is in so guarded a phraseology that they are not understood to be the same." (_Harvey on Moral Agency_, p. 174.) This is clear and indisputable. The Methodist preachers are probably included among the "base men" whose "bitter revilings" have brought about this state of things, as none have done more to bring Calvinism into discredit. And yet, with all this caution, this doctrine is assiduously taught to little children in Sabbath-Schools. It is presented to them and inculcated without disguise. I almost shudder when I think of it. Were all the wealth of this great city offered to me for the privilege of teaching this doctrine to my children, with the understanding that I would withhold counter-instruction, I would spurn the offer. At least, I would do so until my mind had become reconciled to the proposition by a slow and painful process of self-depravation, which, I acknowledge, would not be an impossibility. The apostle Paul speaks of those who through "love of money" have "erred from the faith." Our Calvinistic brethren may have some ground for claiming that they are in advance of us in learning and intelligence, but it is to be hoped that they will not offer their holding this doctrine as proof of the justness of the claim. And if it be the case that some minds are determined, by peculiarities in their original formation, to the belief of Calvinism, I thank God that mine does not belong to that class. And, further, it may be a source of consolation to us, in our imputed inferiority, that it does not require much learning or intelligence to refute Calvinism, or to make its supporters ashamed of it. And when Calvinists ascribe our opposition to their doctrines to depravity, and call our objections to it "impious cavillings," as does Dr. Musgrave, we offer this apology, that our objections are not alleged against what we understand to be the Scripture doctrine; and that if their doctrine be true, and ours false, we are, after all, doing nothing but what God has wisely foreordained we should do. We would also suggest to them that any opposition to our course is resistance to the will of Heaven, so that it is a fair question whether the charge of depravity should not take the opposite direction, But I do not retort it. Methodists never, so far as I know, seek to raise the slightest suspicion of the piety of their Calvinistic brethren on the ground of their being Calvinists. The assertion that Calvinism is specially and exclusively favorable to civil and religious liberty, is a _sheer_ pretence. I will just state a few facts. When the Presbyterians obtained the ascendency in England, they proceeded to establish themselves by law. The _Westminster Confession of Faith_ was intended for the English Establishment. Presbyterianism is the established religion of Scotland at this day, and also of Holland, Geneva, and some parts of Germany. Presbyterian ministers in Ireland are supported, in part, by the British Government. They thus consent that Methodists, Baptists, and others, shall be taxed for their support. That Presbyterianism is not the Established Church in this country may be owing altogether to the fact that it has always been too weak to place itself in that position. When the Independents, in Cromwell's time, obtained the ascendency, they followed the example of the Presbyterians. The Congregationalists of New England, who are Calvinists, established their system, by law, in several of the colonies, and continued to be the Established Church after the Revolution, and until the other sects, combining with unbelievers, became strong enough to put them down and change the State constitutions in favor of equal rights. And, within five or six years of the present time, a Presbyterian Church, in one of the States of this Republic, applied to the legislature, and obtained a grant of one thousand five hundred dollars to be expended upon a Presbyterian church edifice. Many Calvinists have held, and many do yet hold doctrines highly intolerant; and the history of Calvinism is crimsoned by records of blood spilled in support of its tenets. It would be great wisdom on the part of our Calvinistic brethren to allow the question of the bearing of Calvinism upon civil and religious liberty to sleep, undisturbed. A very strong presumption of the unsoundness of the Calvinistic doctrine of decrees arises from the fact that its advocates are compelled, in answering objections to it, not only to disguise, but also flatly contradict it, and to substitute for it Arminian positions; thus virtually conceding that it is indefensible. Dr. Musgrave, as we have seen, asserts explicitly that God has foreordained whatsoever comes to pass. He argues that to deny this, would be in effect to deny that God is infinitely wise, benevolent, and powerful. He says: "We have proved, both by reason and revelation, that all things that come to pass are foreordained." He applies this doctrine to sinful actions in the following manner: "Now, that the whole of Pharaoh's conduct had not only been foreknown but foreordained is indisputable." Again, he says: "In connection with the foregoing statements concerning the crucifixion of the Saviour, let us single out the case of one of the individual actors in that awful tragedy, one whose part was the most perfidious and execrable, and see whether his crime was not before ordained, and he the individual predesignated as its perpetrator." He proceeds to the proof of this proposition. But, when it becomes necessary to meet the palpable and irrefutable objections that this doctrine makes God the author of sin, and takes away the responsibility of the creature, he is compelled to change entirely his ground. He substitutes _permission_ for _foreordination_, and defines permission to mean simply not preventing. "And is there no difference," says he, "between God's making, or exciting men to sin, by his power or influence, and his _permitting_, or _not preventing_ them from sinning? Between his determining to produce the evil himself, or to cause others by his power to do it, and his predetermining to _permit_ men to abuse their liberty and to commit the evil by the _unprevented_ exercise of their own voluntary efficiency?" I reply--there is a very great difference. It is nothing less than the difference between Calvinism and Arminianism. He is led to deny his own doctrine, and take refuge in the one he has tried so hard to refute. The Rev. Dr. Baker, of Texas, in a tract published by the Presbyterian Board of Publication, and entitled _The Standards of the Presbyterian Church a Faithful Mirror of the Bible_, attempts to establish by Scripture the proposition--"God from all eternity did, by the most wise and holy counsel of his own will, freely and unchangeably foreordain whatsoever comes to pass." But in another, published by the same institution, and entitled _The Sovereignty of God Explained and Vindicated_, the design of which is to present the doctrine of Divine decrees in such a light as will obviate the usual objections to the Calvinistic view, he says: "Certain things God _brings to pass_ by a positive agency. Others he _simply permits_ to come to pass. And let it be remarked, permission and approbation do not, by any means, mean the same thing." Again: "Does any one ask what is the difference between _bringing_ to pass, and _permitting_ to come to pass? I answer: God brought to pass the incarnation of his Son. He permitted to come to pass his crucifixion. The difference is as wide as the east is from the west." But if God simply permits some things, why do the creed and the catechism of the Presbyterian Church assert, so unequivocally, that he has from all eternity foreordained whatsoever comes to pass, and that he executes, or brings to pass all his decrees? The contradiction is manifest. The Rev. Dr. Fairchild, in his famous _Great Supper_, says: "Calvinists do not regard the decrees of God as extending to all events in the same manner. Some things God has determined to _effect_ by his own agency, and other things he has decreed to _permit_ or _suffer_ to be." But, if the Calvinistic doctrine be that his decrees merely "extend to all events" (a very different thing from his decreeing all events), and that while he "decrees" and "effects" some he merely "permits" or "suffers" other events, what must we understand to be the Arminian doctrine, against which they are called to contend so earnestly? Are they prepared to acknowledge that they have abandoned Calvinism and run into Arminianism? Do they mean to say that there is no difference between these systems on the point in question? Not at all. How then do they preserve the antagonism of the two creeds? What is the Arminianism against which they are arrayed? Dr. Musgrave thus attempts the solution of this question. "Now, I submit, whether the difficulty, thus confessedly pressing against both systems, is not capable on our principles, of a much more full and satisfactory conclusion. For we not only say, as Wesley does, that 'God knew that it was best, on the whole, not to prevent the first sin of Adam,' but we add, that, knowing this, he determined not only to permit that, but all the sins that he knew would follow from it, and to limit and overrule the whole for his most excellent glory." It seems, then, that the difference between Calvinism and Arminianism respecting the Divine decrees is that Calvinism affirms that God knew it was best, on the whole, not to prevent the sins which he has not prevented, but to permit, and limit and overrule them, while Arminianism affirms that God knew it would be best, on the whole, not to prevent the _first_ sin, but determined to prevent all the sins that he foresaw would flow from it. What a strange statement! To what shifts are these men driven by their unfortunate creed! Where does Mr. Wesley, or any other Arminian writer, say this directly or indirectly? Our author very wisely declines any references at this point. Mr. Wesley does, indeed, deny that God permitted sin, even the "first sin of Adam," in the sense of approving or tolerating it; but whoever denied that God permits, in the sense of suffering--not forcibly preventing, the sins which actually occur? He appropriates to himself, unfairly, Mr. Wesley's doctrine, and then imputes to Mr. Wesley a tenet so perfectly foolish that it may be doubted whether any man ever advanced it, whether sane or insane, drunk or sober. No! these are not the doctrines of Calvinism and Arminianism respectively. The reader will see the importance of the pains taken, in the first discourse, to identify Calvinism. I proved beyond dispute, that Calvinistic creeds, Catechisms, and other theological treatises, teach explicitly, that God has purposed, decreed, foreordained, whatsoever comes to pass; that in some way or other he brings to pass all events; that nothing will, or can, come to pass but what he has ordained; that none of his purposes can be defeated; that it cannot, with truth, be said of any event--it may or may not occur; and that all actual results, by whatever means obtained, are expressions of the design, or decree of God. Arminianism teaches on the contrary, that God has not ordained whatsoever comes to pass--that some things he has preordained; that other things he has not, but has, nevertheless, approved and commanded them, leaving it to the free agency of the creature to fulfil his requisitions; that other things, he not only has not foreordained, but, has condemned and prohibited them, and yet permits or suffers them to be, in preference to that violent interference with free agency which would be necessary to their forcible prevention. Dr. Fairchild tells us that "this distinction between a decree to _effect_ and a decree to _permit_ has been adopted by Predestinarian divines in all ages." Yes, in all ages Predestinarian divines have been compelled to abandon and contradict their creed in the progress, and for the purpose, of its defence. But Calvin himself formally discards and protests against this distinction. He says respecting it: "A question of greater difficulty arises from other passages, where God is said to incline or draw according to his own pleasure, Satan himself and all the reprobate. For the carnal understanding scarcely comprehends how he, acting by their means, contracts no defilement from their criminality, and even in operations common to himself and them, is free from every fault, and yet righteously condemns those whose ministry he uses. Hence was invented the distinction between _doing_ and _permitting_; because to many persons this has appeared an inexplicable difficulty, that Satan and all the impious are subject to the power and government of God, so that he directs their malice to whatever end he pleases, and uses their crimes for the execution of his judgments. The modesty of those who are alarmed at the appearance of absurdity, might perhaps be excusable, if they did not attempt to vindicate the Divine justice by a pretence utterly destitute of any foundation in truth. They consider it absurd that a man should be blinded by the will and command of God, and afterwards be punished for his blindness. They therefore evade the difficulty, by alleging that it happens only by the permission of God, and not by the will of God; but God himself, by the most unequivocal declarations, rejects this subterfuge." But Calvin protests in vain against resorting to this "evasion" and "subterfuge." It is the only way in which the advocates of his doctrine can make a plausible show of argument when pressed with certain objections. Hence we find the Westminster divines employing it. They tell us in their Confession of Faith, that God was pleased, according to his wise and holy counsel, to _permit_ the sin of our first parents. Lest, however, the faithful should fall into a serious mistake, another part assures them that the providence of God "extendeth itself to the first fall, and all other sins of angels and men, and that not by a _bare permission_, but such as hath joined with it a most wise and powerful bounding, and otherwise ordering and governing of them, &c." The nature of that "ordering and governing" is explained in the declaration that "God from all eternity did by the most wise and holy counsel of his own will, freely and unchangeably ordain whatsoever comes to pass." But how learned men can talk of God's permitting what he has eternally and unchangeably ordained, is a mystery to some of the unlearned. Is it necessary to tell us, gravely, that God permits to come to pass that which from all eternity he freely ordained shall come to pass? He permits men and angels to do what he has predetermined they shall do, and what they cannot avoid doing! Wonderful!! The apology for this gross misapplication of language, on the part of men whose learning is sometimes magnified almost into infallibility, is found in their distressing emergency. In no other way can they, with any plausibility, meet their opponents. The usefulness of this term "permit" is admirably indicated by the account which a Presbyterian colporteur gives of an interview with some who objected to the Calvinistic doctrine of decrees. He says:-- "I felt myself, however, sometimes compelled to combat with the opponents of our Calvinistic creed. On one occasion entering a house, the members of which all attended the Presbyterian Church, but were not members, I sold a Confession of Faith to the gentleman; his lady inquired what the name of the book was and on being told, after turning over its pages in a hasty manner, exclaimed: 'I could never allow that book to be under my roof--it should not be read, and it never ought to have been printed.' "What was I to do? The doctrine of our Church, so far as election is concerned, was attacked. After some little conversation on the subject, I found that she and her son charged our Confession with teaching that God passed a decree which put the fall of Adam beyond the possibility of escape." Here was an exigency. Let us see how he meets it. That the Confession does teach the doctrine which the lady and her son ascribed to it, is as plain as anything can be. He _decreed whatsoever comes to pass_, and _executes_ his decrees. Does he ask her what objections she has to this doctrine and offer to refute them? Does he directly and promptly deny that Calvinism teaches this doctrine? No! Such a course would be rather hazardous, considering the character of the books he was seeking to distribute, and did actually leave with them. What course, then, does he take? "I told her," says he, "if the chapter on the fall of man said so, I was as loath to believe it as she was; and if she could find it so, I would condemn the doctrine." Mark! He does not say, unconditionally and unequivocally that he condemned the doctrine, and was as loath to believe it as she was, but _if the chapter which treated on the fall of man said so_. Well, what follows: "On turning to the 6th chapter, how surprised was she to read--This their sin God was pleased according to his wise and holy counsel to _permit_.'" This word _permit_ helped him out of his difficulty. "Here was a fact," says he, "of which they had never heard before, and which gave them no little satisfaction." He doubtless left them under the impression that the Confession of Faith does not teach that God decreed and brought to pass the sin of Adam. However, he did not leave them until they willingly purchased the _Confession of Faith, the Great Supper_, and _Fisher's Catechism_, which asserts, as I have already shown, that "the very reason why anything comes to pass in time is, because God has decreed it," that "none of the decrees of God can be defeated, or fail of execution;" and that God "predetermines the creature to such or such an action, and not to another, shutting up all other ways of acting, and leaving that only open which he had determined to be done." Another presumption in favor of Arminianism results from the readiness with which Methodist preachers are installed as pastors of Calvinistic churches, both old and new school, with the understanding, if their own statements be reliable, that they are not required to renounce or contradict the Arminian creed. Arminian ministers are coming into great demand by Calvinists. They are admitted into the Methodist ministry with the understanding that they are sound Arminians. They remain for years without exciting the least suspicion of their orthodoxy. When, all at once, without any prior change of ecclesiastical relations, or intimation of a change of theological views, they walk into Calvinistic pulpits. I make no remarks at present upon the morality of this course, but deduce that Arminianism preaching, to some extent, is necessary to keep up Calvinistic congregations. Methodists, you may well prize your creed. Your ministers can preach it without reserve. You can defend it. The water of life comes to you through no corrupting medium. You are in no danger of inhaling poisonous sediment. It will bear analysis. It comes to you fresh and abundant. Drink it, and dig channels wide and long for its diffusion, that others may be blest as you are. 
30219	----	MONOPHYSITISM PAST AND PRESENT A STUDY IN CHRISTOLOGY BY A. A. LUCE, M.C., D.D. CAPTAIN LATE 12TH ROYAL IRISH RIFLES FELLOW OF TRINITY COLLEGE, DUBLIN LONDON SOCIETY FOR PROMOTING CHRISTIAN KNOWLEDGE NEW YORK: THE MACMILLAN CO. 1920 PRINTED BY WILLIAM CLOWES AND SONS, LIMITED, LONDON AND BECCLES CONTENTS CHAPTER I. THE METAPHYSICAL BASIS OF MONOPHYSITISM II. THE ORIGINS OF MONOPHYSITISM III. MONOPHYSITE DOCTRINE IV. THE ETHOS OF MONOPHYSITISM V. MONOPHYSITISM AND MODERN PSYCHOLOGY VI. MONOPHYSITISM IN THE PRESENT DAY BOOKS CONSULTED IN THE PREPARATION OF THIS ESSAY J. S. ASSEMANI, "Bibliotheca Orientalis," especially the Introductory Dissertation to Vol. II. A. HARNACK, "History of Dogma," translated by Speirs and Millar. J. C. ROBERTSON, "History of the Christian Church." WINDELBAND, "History of Philosophy," translated by Tufts. WRIGHT, "Short History of Syriac Literature." H. BERGSON, "Les données immédiates de la conscience," "Matière et Mémoire," "L'évolution créatrice." MONOPHYSITISM PAST AND PRESENT CHAPTER I THE METAPHYSICAL BASIS OF MONOPHYSITISM Monophysitism was a Christological heresy of the fifth century. It was condemned by the church in the middle of that century at the council of Chalcedon. Surviving its condemnation it flourished in the East for several centuries. Its adherents formed themselves into a powerful church with orders and succession of their own. Although the monophysite church has long since lost all influence, it is still in being. The Coptic and Jacobite churches of Egypt and Mesopotamia, respectively, preserve to this day the doctrines and traditions of the primitive monophysites. The history of the sect, however, does not concern us here. The writer's purpose is to review its doctrine. Monophysitism is a system of religious thought, and, as such, its importance is out of all proportion to the present or even the past position of the churches that professed it. Its significance lies in its universality. It is grounded in the nature of the human mind. It is found in West as well as East, to-day as well as in the early centuries of our era. Wherever men bring intellect to bear on the problem of Christ's being, the tendency to regard Him as monophysite is present. An examination of the heresy is of practical value. Our subject-matter is not an oriental antique or a curiosity of the intellect, but a present-day problem of vital moment to the Faith. If we are concerned with a half-forgotten heresy, it is because a study of that heresy serves both as a preventive against error and as an introduction to the truth. The doctor studies disease to ascertain the conditions of health; pathological cases are often his surest guide to the normal; just so the study of heresy is the best guide to orthodox Christology. It was in conflict with monophysitism that the church of the fifth century brought to completion her dogmatic utterances about Christ; and the individual thinker to-day can gain the surest grasp of true Christology by examining the monophysite perversion. With this practical purpose in view, we now proceed to an analysis of the heresy. Monophysitism is a body of doctrine. It is a dogmatic system, in which the individual dogmata are controlled by a principle or dominant idea. As all the particular doctrines of monophysitism depend on this principle, and, as it is not properly a theological concept, but one borrowed from philosophy, we may call it "the metaphysical basis of monophysitism." An intelligent grasp of this basic principle is necessary to an appreciation of the whole system. Accordingly, our first concern is to ascertain and exhibit this metaphysical basis. In subsequent chapters we shall analyse in detail the doctrines specifically monophysite and trace the Christological errors back to their source in metaphysic. THE _A PRIORI_ AND _A POSTERIORI_ IN CHRISTOLOGY The following considerations prove the necessity of this procedure. Two methods of examining the being of Christ can be distinguished. According to the one method the facts of His life are reviewed as they are presented in the New Testament, and a formula is then constructed to fit them. The other method starts from the concept of a mediator between God and man. It supposes that concept actualised, and asks the question, "Of what nature must such a mediator be?" These methods may be distinguished, but they cannot be separated. No one, however scientific, can come to a study of the life of Jesus with an absolutely open mind. Presuppositions are inevitable. Similarly, as the _a priori_ thinker develops his concept of a mediator, he compares the results of his thinking at every stage with the picture presented in the Gospel story, and that picture unavoidably modifies his deductions. Both diphysite and monophysite used a combination of these two methods. Each party took the recorded facts and interpreted them in accordance with their notion of what a mediator should be. Both parties studied the same facts; but the _a priori_ of their thought differed, and so their conclusions differed. In the realm of Christology this _a priori_ of thought is of paramount importance. Preconceived opinions inevitably colour our mental picture of Christ. Readers of the Gospel narrative find there the Christ they are prepared to find. On this well-recognised fact we base our contention that an examination of any Christological system must begin with the philosophy on which the system rests. That philosophy supplies the _a priori_, or the presupposition, or the metaphysical basis, whichever name we prefer. We do not suggest that theologians have consciously adopted a metaphysical principle as the basis of their beliefs, and then have applied it to the special problem of Christology. That is a possible method but not the usual one. In most cases the philosophic basis remains in the background of consciousness; its existence is unrecognised and its influence undetected. If Christian thinkers took the trouble to analyse the basis of their beliefs about Christ, they would not halt, as they so often do, at the stage of monophysitism. If they laid bare to the foundations the structure of their faith, the danger of error would be reduced to a minimum. Viewed from the standpoint of timeless reason, monophysitism is based on a definite metaphysical idea. Not all monophysites have consciously adopted that basis; many, had they recognised its presence, would have rejected it. But it was present as a tendency. A tendency may be neutralised by counteracting causes; but it has its effect, and sooner or later it will produce positive results. THE THREE TYPICAL CHRISTOLOGIES The same truth holds of the other Christological systems. A different metaphysical idea lies at the root of each. Nestorian, monophysite, catholic, these three were the main types of Christologian in the fifth century. Each studied Christ's life. After studying it, the Nestorian said of Him, "There are two persons here." "Not so," said the monophysite, "I see but one incarnate nature of God the Word." The catholic replied, "You are both wrong; there is one person in two natures." All three types deserve close study. The thinkers were devout and sincere, and, for the most part, able men. There is no question here of superficial uninformed thought, nor of moral obliquity. The disagreement was due not to their vision but to their view point, not to the object of their thought or the process of their thinking, but to their different presuppositions and starting points. Presented in this way the monophysite and other Christological controversies of the fifth and sixth centuries become phases of the cosmic problem. They thus regain the dignity which is theirs by right, and which they lose in the ordinary church histories. The heat of passion they aroused becomes intelligible. It was no battle about words. The stakes were high. The controversialists championed far-reaching principles with a decisive influence on the course of thought and conduct. Unfriendly critics usually portray the Christologians as narrow-minded and audacious. So, no doubt, they were, but they were not wrong-headed. If the matters in dispute between theist, deist, and pantheist are trivialities, then and then only can we regard the enterprise of the Christologians as chimerical and their achievements as futile. The different formulae represented attitudes of mind fundamentally opposed. No peace between catholic and monophysite was possible. They had conflicting conceptions of ultimate truth. DEPENDENCE OF CHRISTOLOGY ON PHILOSOPHY We mentioned above the two other chief Christological systems, the Nestorian and the catholic. No analysis of monophysitism which omitted a reference to these systems would be complete. They were three nearly contemporary attempts to solve the same problem. The comparison is of special interest when, as here, fundamental principles are under examination. It demonstrates the closeness of the connection between the Christological and the cosmic problems. In each of the three cases we find that a school of philosophy corresponds to the school of theology, and that the philosopher's dominant idea about the cosmos decided the theologian's interpretation of Christ. This connection between philosophy and Christology is of early date. From the nature of both disciplines it had to be. Even in apostolic days the meaning of the incarnation was realised. Christ was apprehended as a being of more than national or terrestrial importance. The Pauline and Johannine Christologies gave cosmic significance to His work, and so inevitably to His Person. Theologians made the tremendous surmise that Jesus of Nazareth was no other than the Logos of the Neo-Pythagoreans or the Wise One of the Stoics. That is to say, He stands not only between God and man, but between Creator and creation. He is the embodiment of the cosmic relation. From early days, then, philosophy and religion were working at the same problem; their paths met at the one goal of the Ideal Person who satisfied both head and heart. The systematic Christology of the fifth century was, therefore, a completion of the work begun in the first. THE CHRISTOLOGICAL AND THE COSMIC PROBLEMS The essence of the Christological problem is the question as to the union of natures in Christ. Are there two natures divine and human in Him? Is each distinct from the other and from the person? Is the distinction conceptual or actual? The incarnation is a union. Is it a real union? If so, what did it unite? We have seen that such questions cannot be approached without presuppositions. What these presuppositions shall be is decided in the sphere of a wider problem. This wider problem is known as the cosmic problem. The solution given to it prescribes the presuppositions of any attempt to solve the specialised problem. We shall proceed to sketch the cosmic problem, and to indicate the three main types of answers given to it. It will then be evident that these three answers find their respective counterparts in the Nestorian, monophysite and the catholic solutions of the Christological problem. As man's intellectual powers mature, two supreme generalisations force themselves on his consciousness. He conceives his experience as a whole and calls it the world; he conceives the basis of his experience as a whole and calls it God. To some minds the world, to some minds God, is the greater reality; but both concepts are present in varying proportions wherever thought becomes self-conscious. Here we have in its lowest terms the material for the ontological question, the first and the last problem of philosophy. God and the world, at first dimly conceived and scarcely differentiated, gradually separate and take shape in the mind as distinct entities. The concepts become principles, fixed by language and mental imagery. The gulf between them widens until they stand at opposite poles of thought. In their isolation they constitute a standing challenge to the mind of man. If he thinks the world in terms of time, he must postulate a creator. If he thinks the world out of time, he is forced to conceive a ground of the world's being. The world cannot be thought without God nor God without the world. The one necessitates the other. Yet when the thinker tries to define the terms, he can at first only do so by negatives. The world is what God is not, and God is what the world is not. The two primary concepts thus attract and repel each other. The mind's first task is to grasp them in their difference. It cannot rest there, but must proceed to attempt to reunite them and grasp them in their unity. Thus the main problem of philosophy is to conceive and find expression for the relation between God and the world. Christology attacks essentially the same problem. Christology is an attempt to define the relation between God and the world in terms of personality. This relation has been conceived in three modes. According to the level of thought reached, or, as led by their disposition and education, men have made their choice between three mediating concepts. Hence derive three divergent types of thought and three outlooks on life fundamentally opposed. We shall take them in their logical sequence for convenience of treatment. The historical connection is of no importance for our present purpose, but it is noteworthy that the time order both of the schools of philosophy and of the corresponding Christological systems follows approximately the logical order. THE FIRST SOLUTION OF THE COSMIC PROBLEM--DUALISM The first attempted solution of the cosmic problem is best expressed in the concept "co-existence." God _and_ the world co-exist. God is, and the world is; their relation is expressed by an "and." "God and the world" is the truth, all that man can and need know. This solution is verbal. It leaves the problem more or less as it finds it. The two principles remain ultimates; neither is reduced to the other. God still stands outside the world and the world outside God. Neither can explain the other. This dualism is the lowest stage of ontological thought. The thinker sees the problem, only to turn away from it. He surmises that there is some relation between the two; but he cannot define it, and it remains ineffectual. This was Plato's early standpoint. He established the idea as the truth of the thing, but he failed to find expression for the relation between idea and ideate. He took refuge in symbolical language, and spoke of the thing as a "copy" of the idea or as a "participant" in it. But as there was no causation on the one side or dependence on the other side, all that the earlier Platonic philosophy achieved was in its ideal world to duplicate the real. Plato's heaven simply co-exists with the world, and the relation between them is merely verbal. This metaphysical idea survived Plato and Plato's system, and passed into common currency. It found and still finds expression in numerous speculative and practical systems. In religious ontology we find it in deism. According to the deist there was once at a definite point of time a relation between God and the world, the relation of creation. But, creation finished, the relation ceased. In other words, God created the world, and then withdrew into Himself, leaving the world to work out its own salvation. The deist believes in God; but his is a self-contained God, who does not interfere in the course of things or continue creating. Such a conception of God is useless for religious purposes, because it represents Him as out of all relation with the world. CHRISTOLOGICAL DUALISM--NESTORIANISM The Christological counterpart of dualism and of deism is Nestorianism. The Nestorians halt at the lowest stage of Christological thought. They admit Christ to be the meeting-point of God and man, but they nullify the admission by introducing dualism into the person of Christ. They set out to find the solution of the cosmic problem in Christ; they endeavour to express the relation between God and the world in terms of His personality. They bring the two concepts together, but they do not weld them. Faith and courage fail them at the critical moment. They substitute an association for a union. They leave God and man co-existing in Christ, but not united there. Nestorianism is a halfway house on the road from Arianism to Christianity. It is a weak compromise. The deity in Christ is admitted, but its unity with humanity denied. The divine remains external to the human nature. According to the doctrine ascribed to Nestorius two persons, the son of God and the son of Mary, at the Baptism were mysteriously associated. The union consists partly in identity of name, partly in the gradual deepening of the association. As Jesus grew in spiritual power and knowledge and obedience to the divine will, the union which at first was relative gradually deepened towards an absolute union. Divinity was not His birthright, but acquired. Thus throughout His life the two personalities remained external to one another. The divine worked miracles; the human suffered. The Nestorian could pride himself on having preserved the reality of the divine and the reality of the human; he could worship the one and imitate the other. But his system was non-Christian, because it excludes the element of mediation. A dual personality could never make atonement or redeem humanity. God and man in Christ were brought into nominal contact, but there was provided no channel by which the divine virtue might pass into the human. The Nestorian remains content with his solution, because the background of his thought is dualist. The thinker's attitude to the cosmic problem decides his attitude to the Christological problem. Content to couple God and the world by an "and," he similarly couples by an "and" the Logos and Jesus Christ. Dividing God from the world, he divides Christ. Abandoning metaphysical relation between the cosmic principles, he despairs of finding, or, rather, has no motive for seeking a personal relation between God and man in the being of Christ. SECOND SOLUTION OF THE COSMIC PROBLEM--MONISM The second solution given to the cosmic problem is of special importance for our thesis. It had a direct influence on monophysitism, and may be regarded as supplying the metaphysical basis for that heresy. It represents an advance to a higher stage of thought, just as monophysitism, which depends on it, is an advance on Nestorianism, and has always been regarded as a more venial heresy. The mind finding no satisfaction in dualism advances to monism. The spectacle of two unrelated ultimate principles impels it to seek and, if necessary, to invent some mode of reconciling them. Explain it as we may, the craving for unity, for synthesis, for mediation is radical in human thought. The mind cannot rest at anything short of it. God and the world, held asunder conceptually or only nominally united, constitute a contradiction _in excelsis_, and, as such, provide an irresistible motive for further and deeper thought. As is natural, the swing of the pendulum carries the mind to the opposite extreme. Co-existence failing to supply the required solution, the key is sought in identity. God and the world are thought as identical. The terms are connected by the copula. God _is_ the world, and the world _is_ God. This is the truth of being, for the monist. The two principles are merged in one, and the contradiction solved by an assertion of the identity of the contradictories. Monism takes two forms. It may be either materialist or spiritual. One term must be selected as the reality, and the other written off as an illusion. If the thinker's bent of mind be scientific, he is disposed to make the material world the only objective reality, and God becomes simply a working hypothesis or a creation of the subjective mind. It would be beside our purpose to do more than mention this phase of monism. Spiritual monism, however, requires lengthier treatment; it is of vital importance to our subject. In this case the mind takes sides with God as against the world. God is the reality and the world the illusion. The world is God, in spite of appearances to the contrary. As world it has no substantive reality; it has no existence for self. It is the shadow of God, an emanation from Him, or an aspect of Him. Like dualism, monism is only a sham solution of the cosmic problem. It fails to keep prominent the idea of relation. A relation must relate. If its terms are merged, the relation falls to the ground. A relation must be such that, while the terms are unified, they are preserved as realities. It must both unify and keep distinct. To abandon either God or the world is a counsel of despair. To detract from the reality of either is treason to fact and tantamount to a shelving of the cosmic problem. PHILOSOPHICAL AND THEOLOGICAL MONISM The systems that identify God and the world range from the crude materialism of Democritus to the lofty spiritualism of Plotinus. Stoic cosmology occupies an intermediate position. The Stoic was nominally a pantheist, but he seems to have oscillated between a spiritual and a materialist explanation of the universal being. The monist system that prepared the soil for monophysitism and constantly fostered its growth was Neo-Platonism. In the hands of Plotinus all the main elements of spiritual monism were worked up into a speculative philosophy with a profound bearing on practical life. The world and the human spirit, for Plotinus, were simply manifestations of God. He taught that, as light issues from the sun and proceeds forth on its way, growing gradually dimmer till it passes into darkness, so the world of thought and thing has no true being apart from God, from whom it proceeded and to whom it returns. Spiritual monism found in Alexandria a congenial home. Blending there with oriental mysticism it produced a crop of gnostic speculative systems, in all of which Acosmism or a denial of the world was the keynote. Whether the problem was conceived in terms of being or of value, the result was the same. The world has no true being. Its appearance of solidity is a sham. It has no value. Compared with God, it is negligible. It is but the shadow cast by the eternal sun. The monophysite tenets traceable to monism will be considered in detail in later chapters. Here our concern is to show that monism supplies the metaphysical principle on which the heresy is based; that, as dualism provides the _a priori_ of Nestorian thought, monism provides the _a priori_ of monophysite thought. CHRISTOLOGICAL MONISM--MONOPHYSITISM The essential doctrine of monophysitism is the assertion of the absolute numerical unity of the person of Christ. It carries to extremes its denial of the dual personality maintained by the Nestorians. All vestiges of duality were banished from His being; there were not two persons: there were not even two natures. There was in Christ only the one nature of God the Word. The human nature at the incarnation was absorbed into the divine. It no more has substantive existence than has the world in a pantheistic system. This is monism in terms of personality. Its presuppositions are those of a mind imbued with an all-powerful feeling for unity. It is faced with the problem of reconciling God and the world in the person of Jesus Christ. It brings to that problem a prejudice against the real being and the real value of the world. Hence it is led to draw the false conclusion that humanity, which is part of the world, is not a permanent element in the highest truth; that even perfect humanity, humanity representative of all that is noblest in the race, cannot be allowed true existence in the Ideal. Monism abandons the universal relation by abandoning one or other of the terms to be related. Monophysitism cuts a similar knot in a similar fashion. It jettisons redemption by excluding from the Redeemer all kinship with that which He came to redeem. Nominally admitting human nature into union with deity, it destroys the reality of that transaction at a stroke by making the two natures identical. So the incarnation, for the monophysite, becomes a myth; no change in the nature of the Logos took place at it, and, consequently, no change in the nature of the Man Christ Jesus. We may trace the likeness between the cosmic and the Christological problems still further. Monism is forced to attempt to give some account of the world's apparent reality. Similarly monophysitism had to try to explain those facts of Christ's life which on the face of the Gospel narrative are human and normal. The explanation offered is essentially the same in both systems. The monist asserts that the world exists only in the mind of the thinker. It is an illusion of the senses. The duty of the philosopher is to overcome the illusion by turning away from the world of sense and fixing his mind on true being; by ascesis and contemplation he endeavours to attain the ecstatic state, in which the illusion of the world's reality disappears, and the potential identity of man with the universal spirit becomes actualised in experience. Similarly, for the monophysite, the humanity of Christ was a creation of the senses. Christ's body was a phantom, and His human mind simply an aspect of Him. They were impressions left on the minds of His contemporaries. Having no substantive existence, no reality in fact, they were to be ignored in Christological dogma. They were not to be considered as part of the true Christ; they were not to be worshipped. No spiritual value attached to them. They were hindrances rather than helps to the religion that aimed at entire abandonment of self and absorption in the divine. THE THIRD SOLUTION OF THE COSMIC PROBLEM--IDENTITY IN DIFFERENCE We come now to the third and last solution of the cosmic problem. As we develop it, we shall endeavour to show that it supplies that metaphysical idea which forms the basis of catholic Christology. The two previous solutions failed. They do not satisfy the philosopher and they mislead the theologian. The one separates God from the world; the other merges them. Thus both, in effect, abandon the original enterprise. They destroy the relation instead of expressing it. The concepts both of co-existence and of identity have proved fruitless in the speculative problem, and in Christology have given rise to heresy. The third school of thought takes as its starting point neither God, nor the world, nor the two as co-existing, but the relation of the two. It makes that relation such that the terms related are preserved in the relation. Neither identity nor difference is the full truth, but identity in and through difference. God is not the world, nor is the world God. God is, and the world is. Each are facts. In their separateness they are not true facts. It is only as we conceive the two in their oneness, a supra-numerical oneness, that we can give their full value to each. The world is God's world; therefore it has being and value. The cosmic relation then is expressed not by an "and," nor by an "is," but by an "of." The God "_of_" the world is the key concept that unlocks the doors of the palace of truth. It was in the prominence given to this concept that Aristotle's system made a great advance on that of his predecessor. Plato had established a world of ideas with the idea of the Good as its centre, but he left it unrelated to the world of experience. Aristotle insisted on relating the ideal and the real. His concept of relation was that of form and matter. The world apart from God is matter apart from form. It has only potential reality. When it becomes united to its form, it becomes actual. Its form makes it a fact--what it has in it to be. Aristotle conceives different grades of being. Unformed matter is the lowest of these grades, and God the highest. Each grade supplies the matter of which the next highest grade is the form. Ascending the scale of being at last we reach pure form. Thus the ladder of development is constructed by which the world rises to its realisation in God. Aristotle gave to humanity the conception of a God who transcends the world, and yet is immanent in it, as form is in matter. Thus Greek philosophy in Aristotle attained that spiritual monotheism which supplied the foundation for the edifice of Christian doctrine. The effect of Aristotle's teaching was felt by all the ecclesiastical parties in the fifth century. As we shall see in a later chapter, some of the subsidiary elements of his philosophy are reflected in monophysitism. The dominant ideas, however, of the system, the conception of God and the world and the relation between them, were taken over by the catholic theologians, and incorporated into their Christology. We need not here inquire whether Aristotle's influence was direct or indirect. No doubt many of the theologians who constructed Christian doctrine had read his works. Whether that is so or not, they must have unconsciously assimilated his central doctrine. It was common property. The determination to keep God a reality and the world a reality and yet relate the two became the controlling motive of their thinking. Aristotle in theory and application of theory has always a feeling for fact. The individual thing and the world of individual things are, for him, never negligible. Realised matter, life, the human spirit, human nature, are actualities and have their value as such. They are not all on the same level of being; they do not occupy the same rank; and it is the philosopher's business to determine their respective positions in the scale of being and value. But he cannot have his head in the clouds of contemplation, unless he have his feet on the earth of fact. THE ESSENCE OF CATHOLIC CHRISTOLOGY Catholic Christology has caught the spirit of Aristotle's teaching. It is not primarily speculative. It is in close touch with fact. It is the outcome of a deep-felt want. Redemption is the first demand of religious experience; so it is the motive and theme of all Christology. The soul views itself as a member of a world of souls estranged from God, and for its own peace and welfare seeks to effect a union between God and the world. Such a union, to be effective, must preserve the being and value of the world. If there were no world or only a valueless world, there would be nothing to redeem, or nothing worth redeeming. Seeking that union in personality, and in the most marvellous personality of history, the orthodox theologians by a true instinct ascribed to Him both divine and human natures. He is the cosmic unity of opposites. His person is the cosmic relation. In that person the lower term of the relation has true being and full value. Thus the Church steered a middle course between the Scylla of co-existence and the Charybdis of identity. These _a priori_ deductions as to the being of Christ were verified by a reference to fact. The life-story of the historic Christ comprises two distinct groups of experience. There are thoughts, deeds, and words attributed to Him that only God could have thought, done, and said. There are as well thoughts, deeds and words of His that only a man could have thought, done and said. Hence the diphysite doctrine was verified _a posteriori_. Again, in both groups of experience there is a never-failing connecting link. There is a unity lying deeper in His consciousness than the duality. Christ, the Agent, is the same in both parts. Whether as God or man, He is never out of character. Hence the unity of the person also was established _a posteriori_. Thus, to the orthodox Christologians, the expectation that the human Ideal would be a unity, comprising divinity and humanity, was justified by historical fact. They found a further verification on applying the test of practice. Orthodox Christology satisfies the requirements of the soul. Man's chief spiritual need is access to God through "a daysman that might lay his hand upon both." An exemplar, even though perfect, is not adequate to his need. The _unio mystica_ can only be experienced by the leisured few. Man demands a religion of redemption, a redemption that allows value to labour, to endeavour, to human thought, that recognises the reality of pain and sorrow and sin, a redemption that redeems humanity in all its phases and in the wealth of its experiences. An Agent that has not shared to the full those experiences is useless for the purpose. Redemption must be the work of One who knows God and knows man, of One who has the touch of sympathy; for to such a touch alone can humanity respond. The Christology that makes Christ Jesus consubstantial with God and with man satisfies man's deep-felt need. SUMMARY OF THE CHAPTER We have taken a triad of ontologies and a triad of Christological systems, placed them side by side, and examined them. The result of that examination is a triple correspondence. The metaphysical principle is found in each case worked out in a corresponding Christology. The comparison is of general interest. It reveals Christology as intimately connected with the workings of intellect, as in the main stream of the current of human thought, as capable of philosophic treatment. Further than that, the comparison is vital to the main argument of this essay. It provides the clue to the heart of our subject. The scientist, who wishes to understand a botanical specimen, pays as much attention to what is in the ground as to what is above ground. The seed and roots are as full of scientific interest as are stem, leaf and flower. Similarly, to understand the monophysite heresy, to be able to detect it and expose it, we must take it in the germ. We may push the illustration further. The properties of a botanical specimen are best studied in connection with organisms of allied species. We cannot isolate unless we compare. By comparison the essential features, functions and properties of the specimen under examination are elucidated. It is by isolating the three germinal ideas of these three Christological systems and comparing them, that a full comprehension of monophysitism in all its stages, from seed to flower, is reached. We have used this method, and have found that the roots of the heresy lie in spiritual monism. In subsequent chapters we shall analyse its origins as a historical system, its specific tenets and its practical consequences. It will then be seen that the spirit of monism pervades the whole system. CHAPTER II THE ORIGINS OF MONOPHYSITISM The monophysitism of the fifth century had its roots in the past as well as in the _a priori_. In the previous chapter we treated it as a phase of philosophic thought and reviewed the metaphysic on which the heresy rests. In the present chapter its relations as a historical system of religious thought are to be exhibited. As such, it owes much to outside influences. Much in the monophysite mode of thought and many of its specific doctrines can be traced either to other ecclesiastical heresies or to pagan philosophies. The fact of this double derivation deserves to be emphasised. It refutes the charge of inquisitorial bigotry, so frequently levelled against the theologians of the early centuries. The non-Christian affinities of the heresy account for the bitterness of the controversy to which it gave rise, and, in large measure, excuse the intolerance shown by both parties. Heresies were not domestic quarrels. Contemporaries viewed them as involving a life and death struggle between believers and unbelievers. Christianity can afford to be tolerant to-day. It has an assured position. Its tenets are defined. Christians can almost always distinguish at a glance errors that threaten the essentials of the Faith from those that do not. In the fourth and fifth centuries the case was otherwise. Christianity was then one among many conflicting systems of religion. Its intellectual bases were as yet only imperfectly thought out. Any doctrinal error seemed capable of poisoning the whole body of belief. Heresy, so the orthodox held, was of the devil. No charitable view of it was allowable. That uncompromising attitude was, to a large extent, justified because many articles of the heretical creeds were of purely pagan origin. Given similar conditions to-day, our easy tolerance of opinion would disappear. If Islam, for instance, were to-day a serious menace to the Faith, Christians would automatically stiffen their attitude towards monophysite doctrines. Toleration of the false Christology would, under those circumstances, be treason to the true. The Church of the fifth century was menaced from many sides. Monophysitism was the foe at her gates. That heresy was not a variety of Christianity. It was a semi-pagan theosophy, a product of Greek and oriental, as well as of purely Christian speculation; therefore it was anathema to the orthodox. THE ELEMENTAL FORMS OF CHRISTOLOGICAL ERROR--DOCETISM AND EBIONITISM We propose to begin the study of the antecedents of monophysitism by examining those of a Christian or semi-Christian character. For that purpose it will be necessary to give a brief sketch of the early heresies in so far as they bear on the Christological problem. The two primitive forms of doctrinal error, to which the Church, even in apostolic days, was exposed, were docetism and ebionitism. These are the elemental heresies. All the later Christological heresies are refinements of one or other of these two. They constitute the extremes of Christological thought: between them runs the _via media_ of orthodoxy. Each of the two sees but one aspect of the two-fold life of Christ. Docetism lays an exclusive emphasis on His real divinity, ebionitism on His real humanity. Each mistakes a half truth for a whole truth. The docetists denied that Jesus Christ had come in the flesh. His body, they taught, was an apparition. He ate and drank, but the physical frame received no sustenance. He appeared to suffer, but felt no pain. The reality behind the semblance was the divine spirit-being, who conjured up the illusion in order to elevate the thoughts of mankind. This docetic theory commended itself to many of the Greek Christians. They were familiar with the notion of "the gods coming down to them in the likeness of men." Greek mythology abounds in instances of docetic incarnations. The gods of the popular religion constantly assumed visible form during their temporary manifestations. The ebionites threatened the Faith from the opposite quarter. They taught that Christ was real man and only man. According to them, the whole value of His life and work lay in His moral teaching and His noble example; there is no mystery, no contact of divine and human in Christ; what He attained, we all may attain. The ebionites were recruited from the Jewish element in the Church. The rigid monotheism of the Jews made it hard for them to conceive an intermediary between God and man; they were naturally disposed to embrace a humanistic explanation of Christ. Docetism was elaborated by Valentinus, Manes and other gnostics and adopted into their systems, while ebionitism provided the basis for the Christologies of Paul of Samosata, of the Photinians and Adoptionists. In contact with these heresies orthodox beliefs, originally fluid, gradually hardened. The dogma "Christus deus et homo" had from the beginning been held in the Church. Its full implications were not realised and formulated until the conflict with error came. The controversies of the third and fourth centuries threw into bold relief the unity of the person and the perfection of the divinity and of the humanity. THE PROBLEM OF THE HYPOSTATIC UNION The manner of the hypostatic union then became an urgent problem. The Church of the fifth century was called upon to attempt a solution. Any reading of the Gospels compelled the recognition of divine and human elements in Christ; but speculative theology found it difficult to reconcile that fact with the equally important fact of the unity of person. The theologians of the previous century had bequeathed little or no guidance. The fifth-century Christologians were pioneers in an unmapped region. Athanasius' great treatises on the incarnation are hardly more than eloquent defences of the true deity and true humanity of Christ. They contain little or no constructive Christology. Their theme is, _autòs enênthrópêsen_, _hína hêmeis theôpoiêthômen_. He maintains the fact, but does not deal with the "how." He uses the phrase "natural union" (_hénôsis physiké_), but does not attempt to define the mode of that union. APOLLINARIANISM Apollinaris was, as far as we know, the first theologian to approach this subject. We may note in passing that, though he was bishop of Laodicea in Syria, Alexandria was his native place. His father was an Alexandrian, and he himself had been a friend of Athanasius. The fact of his connection with Alexandria deserves mention, because his doctrine reflects the ideas of the Alexandrian school of thought, not those of the Syrian. Apollinaris set himself to attack the heretical view that there were two "Sons"--one before all time, the divine Logos, and one after the incarnation, Jesus Christ. In doing so he felt constrained to formulate a theory of the union of natures. He started from the Platonic division of human nature into three parts, rational soul, animal soul, and body. He argued that in the statement "the Logos became flesh," "flesh" must mean animal soul and body. He urged in proof that it would be absurd to suppose the Logos conditioned by human reason; that rational soul was the seat of personality, and that if it were associated with the Logos, it would be impossible to avoid recognising "two Sons." He expressly asserted that the humanity of Christ was incomplete, contending that this very defect in the human nature made possible the unity of His person. According to Apollinaris, then, the union was a composition. The Logos superseded the human reason, and was thus united to body and animal soul. Apollinarianism was a form of docetism. In ascribing imperfection to the human nature of Christ it _eo ipso_ denied its reality. Apollinaris, in fact, said of Christ's reason what the early docetists said of His body. The system is more ingenious than convincing. It is highly artificial. It provides no intellectual basis for a living faith in an incarnate Christ. The theory, however, was very influential in its day, and was intimately connected with the rise of monophysitism. Eutyches, the "father of the monophysites," was condemned by a local synod at Constantinople in A.D. 448 on the ground that he was "affected by the heresy of Valentinus and Apollinaris."[1] Harnack goes so far as to say that "the whole position of the later monophysites, thought out to all its conceivable conclusions, is already to be found in Apollinaris." Apollinarianism was condemned at the second general council, and there the Church made her first declaration, a negative one, on the subject of the hypostatic union. In conflict with the heresies which arose in the next two generations, she evolved a positive statement of the truth. THE NESTORIAN REACTION Opposition to Apollinarianism gave rise to the Nestorian heresy. The original ebionitism had died away, but its spirit and central doctrine reappeared in Nestorianism. Nestorianism might be described as ebionitism conforming to the creeds of Nicaea and Constantinople. The leaders of the opposition to the Apollinarists of the fifth century were their own Syrian countrymen whose headquarters was at Antioch. The Antiochians differed from the Apollinarians in the starting-point of their Christology and in the controlling motive of their thought. While Apollinaris had constructed his Christology on the basis of the doctrine of the Trinity, the Antiochians started from the formula "perfect alike in deity and humanity." The reasonings of Apollinaris were governed by the thought of redemption. The fundamental question of religion for him was, "How can the closest union between divine and human be secured?" The tendency of the Antiochians, on the other hand, was to neglect the interests of Soteriology and to emphasize the ethical aspect of Christ's life and teaching. They put in the background the idea of the all-creating, all-sustaining Logos, who took man's nature upon Him and in His person deified humanity. Their thought centred on the historic Christ, the Christ of the evangelists. They did not revert to crude ebionitism, but they explained the Nicene creed from an ebionitic stand-point. They maintained as against the Apollinarians the completeness of Christ's human nature; with equal vigour they maintained the essential deity of the Logos. The "poverty" (ebionitism) of their doctrines consisted in their paltry view of the hypostatic union. The union, according to the Nestorians, was subsequent to the conception of Jesus. It was not a personal, but a moral union. It was a conjunction of two co-ordinate entities. They taught that the more the man Jesus acted in accordance with the divine promptings, the closer became his union with the Logos. That is to say, the union was relative not absolute. Thus the union between divine and human in Christ differed only in degree from the union of the same elements in any good man. The unity of the Son of God and the Son of Mary consisted solely in the identity of name, honour and worship. CYRIL OF ALEXANDRIA Cyril, Bishop of Alexandria, led the opposition to Nestorius. He declared that the moment of conception was the moment of the union, and that the notion of incarnation involved much more than an association of natures. He maintained that the incarnation was a hypostatic union (_hénôsis physiké_). He endeavoured to guard against an Apollinarian interpretation of his teaching; but in this attempt he was not altogether successful. He asserted the perfection of Christ's humanity and the distinction between the two natures. The perfection, however, is compromised, and the distinction rendered purely ideal by his further statement that there were "two natures before, but only one after the union." He cited in proof the words of Athanasius, "one incarnate nature of God the Word." Cyril prevailed. Nestorius was condemned and the Antiochian school discredited. Cyril's victory, however, was of doubtful value to orthodoxy. His ardent but unbalanced utterances bequeathed to the Church a legacy of strife. His writings, particularly the earlier ones, furnished the monophysites with an armoury of weapons. His teaching could not with justice be styled docetic or Apollinarian, but its mystic tone was so pronounced that it proved a propaedeutic for monophysitism. The shibboleth of orthodoxy, quoted above, "one incarnate nature of God the Word," passed rapidly into the watchword of heresy. Athanasius had used the word "nature" in a broad sense. The monophysites narrowed it down to its later technical meaning. Thus they exalted Christ into a region beyond the ken of mortal man. The incarnation became a mystery pure and simple, unintelligible, calling for blind acceptance. The monophysites, following Cyril, heightened the mystery, but, in doing so, they eliminated the reality and the human appeal of the incarnate life. They soon began to argue that, since Christ is monophysite, the properties of deity and humanity in Him are interchangeable; that therefore, while yet a Babe in the manger, He ruled the world with the omniscience and omnipresence of the Logos; that while He hanged upon the Cross, His mighty power sustained and ordered the universe. The monophysites professed great jealousy for the honour due to the Redeemer. But the ascription of such attributes to Jesus Christ detracts from His honour. If the nature that suffered on the Cross be not distinct from the nature that cannot suffer, then the Crucifixion was a sham. Monophysitism is docetism elaborated. It abandons the Christ of history. It rules out His _prokopé_. It ignores a fact, vital to Christology, namely the _kénôsis_ or divine self-limitation. Thus it throws a veil of unreality over those facts on which the Christian Faith is built. MONOPHYSITISM A PRODUCT OF POSITIVE AND NEGATIVE CURRENTS OF RELIGIOUS THOUGHT The foregoing sketch of the early Christological heresies exhibits monophysitism as a product of two opposite intellectual currents. A man's convictions are settled for him partly by acceptance, partly by rejection of what tradition offers or his mind evolves. The mass mind works similarly. It accepts and rejects, approves and disallows. The stabilisation of a body of mass opinions, such as a heresy, is thus determined by opposite forces. It was so with monophysitism. Its Christian antecedents comprised positive and negative currents. The positive current was docetism, the negative ebionitism. Docetism, originating in apostolic times, passed through many phases, to provide, at the end of the fourth century, in its most refined form, Apollinarianism, the immediate positive cause of monophysitism. Ebionitism, related to docetism as realism to idealism, possessed equal vitality and equal adaptability. It showed itself in various humanistic interpretations of Christ. Of these the most elaborate was Nestorianism, which exerted the most insistent and immediate negative influence on the early growth of monophysitism. MONOPHYSITISM AND NON-CHRISTIAN THOUGHT We leave here the subject of the influence of other heresies on monophysitism, and proceed to exhibit its affinities with non-Christian thought. At Alexandria, the home of the heresy, two systems of philosophy, the Aristotelian and the Neo-Platonist, were strongly represented. Both of these philosophies exercised a profound influence upon the origins and upon the later developments of monophysite doctrine. We propose to take, first, the Aristotelian, and then the Neo-Platonist philosophy, elucidating those leading ideas in each on which the monophysite thinker would naturally fasten, as lending intellectual support to his religious views. THE ARISTOTELIAN LOGIC Aristotle was held in high estimation by the monophysite leaders, particularly in the sixth and seventh centuries. His works were translated into Syriac in the Jacobite schools. The West owes much to these translations. For it was largely by this agency that his metaphysic reached the Arabs, who transmitted it to the West in the Middle Ages. The Aristotelian logic was widely known among the monophysites. It seems to have formed part of their educational curriculum. Taken apart from the rest of the system, the logic produces a type of mind that revels in subtle argumentation. It exalts the form of thought at the expense of the matter. It had this effect on the monophysite theologians. They were trained dialecticians. They were noted for their controversial powers, for their constant appeal to definition, for the mechanical precision of their arguments. These mental qualities, excellent in themselves, do not conduce to sound theology. Formal logic effects clarity of thought often at the expense of depth. It treats thoughts as things. Procedure, that is proper in the sphere of logic, is out of place in psychology and theology. Concepts such as person and nature must be kept fluid, if they are not to mislead. If they are made into hard and fast ideas, into sharply defined abstractions, they will be taken to represent discrete psychic entities, external to one another as numbers are. The elusive, Protean character of the inter-penetrating realities behind them will be lost to view. The most signal defect of monophysite method is its unquestioning submission to the Aristotelian law of contradiction. The intellectual training that makes men acute logicians disqualifies them for dealing with the living subject. The monophysite Christologians were subtle dialecticians, but the psychology of Christ's being lay outside their competence. ARISTOTLE'S CRITICISM OF DUALISM--A WEAPON IN THE HANDS OF THE MONOPHYSITES Leaving the formal element in Aristotle's system, we come to its material content. Some of the prominent ideas of the Aristotelian cosmology and psychology reappear in the heresy we are studying. We shall take first the rejection of the Platonic dualism. Aristotle's repeated criticism of his master's theory of ideas is not merely destructive. It formed the starting-point for his own metaphysic. The ideas, he says, simply duplicate the world of existent things. They do not create things or move them; they do not explain genesis or process; they merely co-exist with the ideates. The participation which Plato's later theory postulated is inadequate. A more intimate relation is required. The theory of ideas confronts God with a world, and leaves the relation between them unformulated and inexplicable. This criticism is of first importance for theology. Faith as well as reason demands a real relation between idea and ideate. The Christian student in the fifth century, familiar with Aristotle's criticism of Plato, would inevitably apply it in Christology. Any theory of redemption that ascribed duality to the Redeemer would seem to him to be open to the objections that Aristotle had urged against the theory of ideas. The Nestorian formula, in effect, juxtaposed the ideal Christ and the real Jesus, and left the two unrelated. This was Platonism in Christology. Aristotle's attack on Plato's system provided a radical criticism of Nestorianism. The monophysite theologians were blind to the difference between the Nestorian position and that of the orthodox. They saw that Aristotle had placed a powerful weapon in their hands, and they used it indifferently against both opposing parties. ARISTOTLE'S PSYCHOLOGY We turn now to Aristotle's psychology. We must give a brief sketch of it in order to establish the fact that the Aristotelian and the monophysite science of the soul labour under the same defect. It is a radical defect, namely, the almost complete absence of the conception of personality. The principle of Aristotle's psychology, like that of his metaphysic, is the concept of form and matter. The soul of man comes under the general ontological law. All existence is divisible into grades, the lower grade being the matter whose form is constituted by the next highest grade. Thus there is a graduated scale of being, starting from pure matter and rising to pure form. The inorganic is matter for the vegetable kingdom, the vegetable kingdom for the animal kingdom; the nutritive process is material for the sensitive, and the sensitive for the cognitive. Man is an epitome of these processes. The various parts of his nature are arranged in an ascending scale; form is the only cohesive force. The animal soul is the form of the body, born with it, growing with it, dying with it; the two are one in the closest union conceivable. Besides the soul of the body, there is, says Aristotle, a soul of the soul. This is reason, essentially different from animal and sensitive soul. It is not connected with organic function. It is pure intellectual principle. It is immaterial, immortal, the divine element in man. This reason is not a bare unity. As it appears in human experience, it is not full-grown. Potentially it contains all the categories, but the potentiality must be actualised. Consequently reason subdivides into active and passive intellect. The action of the former on the latter, and the response of the latter to the former, constitute the development of the mind, the education of the truth that is potentially present from the beginning. This hierarchy of immaterial entities contains nothing corresponding to our idea of personality. There is in it no principle that is both individual and immortal. Aristotle allows immortality only to the universal reason. The psychic elements are condemned to perish with the body. There is no hope for the parts of the soul which are most intimately connected with the individual's experience. Monophysite Christology shares this fundamental defect. The monophysite thinker attempted to express the union of two natures within one experience. But his psychology, not containing the notion of personality, could furnish no principle of synthesis. An agent in the background of life, to combine the multiplicity of experience, is a _sine qua non_ of a sound Christology. Personality was to the monophysites a _terra incognita_; and it was in large measure their devotion to Aristotle's system that made them deaf to the teaching of the catholic church. INTELLECTUALISM AND MYSTICISM COMPLEMENTARY SYSTEMS After this sketch of the Aristotelian features recognisable in monophysitism, we turn to the other great pagan philosophy that assisted in the shaping of the heresy. Intellectualism and mysticism are closely allied; the two are complementary; they are as mutually dependent as are head and heart. It is not then surprising that monophysitism should possess the characteristics of both these schools of thought. The intellectualism of the heresy was largely due, as we have shown, to the Aristotelian logic and metaphysic; its mystic elements derive, as we proceed to indicate, from Neo-Platonism and kindred theosophies. Alexandria had been for centuries the home of the mystics. The geographical position, as well as the political circumstances of its foundation, destined that city to be the meeting-place of West and East. There the wisdom of the Orient met and fought and fused with that of the Occident. There Philo taught, and bequeathed to the Neo-Platonists much of his Pythagorean system. There flourished for a while and died fantastic eclectic creeds, pagan theosophies masquerading as Christianity. Gnosticism was a typical product of the city. Valentinus and Basilides and the other gnostics made in that cosmopolitan atmosphere their attempts to reconcile Christianity with Greek and oriental thought. There Ammonius Saccas, after his lapse from the Christian faith, taught and laid the foundation of Neo-Platonism. Plotinus was the greatest of his disciples, and, though he taught at Rome for most of his life, it was in the spirit of Alexandria that he wrought his absolute philosophy, the full-orbed splendour of the setting sun of Greek thought. Neo-Platonism did not die with Plotinus. In the middle of the fifth century, when monophysitism was at its zenith, Proclus was fashioning an intellectual machinery to express the Plotinian system. The story of Hypatia evidences the dominant position of Neo-Platonism in Alexandrian culture. The violence of Cyril's measures against her shows what a menace to the Church that philosophy was. Cyril was not a monophysite, but much that he said and did promoted their cause. Dioscurus, his nephew and successor in the see of Alexandria, championed monophysitism at the council of Chalcedon. In later generations Alexandria always offered an asylum to exiled monophysite leaders. These facts render it impossible to regard the connection between Alexandria and monophysitism as fortuitous. They further suggest that Neo-Platonism was the connecting link. Such in fact it was. Monophysitism, we might almost say, was Neo-Platonism in Christian dress. The ethos of the two systems is the same, and the doctrinal resemblance is marked. It was natural that the home of pagan mysticism should cradle the kindred system of heretical Christian mysticism. NEO-PLATONIST ONTOLOGY The representative figure amongst the Neo-Platonists is Plotinus. His comprehensive mind gathered up the main threads of Alexandrian thought, and wove them into the fabric of a vast speculative system. The system is as much a religion as a philosophy. It is the triumph of uncompromising monism. The last traces of dualism have been eradicated. God, for Plotinus, is true being and the only being. He is all and in all. God is an impersonal Trinity, comprising the One, the cosmic reason and the cosmic soul. The One is primal, ineffable, behind and beyond all human experience. All we know of Him is that He is the source and union of reason and soul. Creation is effected by a continuous series of emanations from God. Emanation is not an arbitrary act of divine will; it is a necessary consequence of the nature of the One. God must negate Himself, and the process is creation. The further the process of negation is carried, the less reality does the created object possess. Last in the scale comes matter, which has no self-subsistence, but is the absolute self-negation of God. We referred in the last chapter to Plotinus' favourite illustration. We may be allowed, perhaps, to repeat it here. As light, he says, issues from the sun and grows gradually dimmer, until it passes by imperceptible degrees into the dark, so reason emanates from God and, passing through the phases of nature, loses its essence gradually in its procession, until finally it is derationalised and becomes its opposite. NEO-PLATONIST PSYCHOLOGY Human souls are at an intermediate stage of this cosmic process. Like the ray of light which touches both sun and earth, they have contact with God and with matter. They stand midway in creation. They are attracted upwards and downwards. Reason draws them to God; sense chains them to earth. Their position decides their duty. (Here the philosophy becomes a religion). The duty of man is to break the sensuous chains and set the soul free to return to its home in God. This return of the soul to God is attained by the path of knowledge. The knowledge that frees is not speculative; for such enhances self-consciousness. It is immediate consciousness indistinguishable from unconsciousness. It is intuitive knowledge. It is vision in which the seer loses himself, and what sees is the same as what is seen. It is the absorption of the soul in the world reason, and so with God. The Neo-Platonist took practical steps to attain this mystic state. He submitted to rule and discipline. By mortification of the flesh he endeavoured to weaken sensuous desire. The arts of theurgy were employed to wean the mind from sensuous knowledge, and to fix aspiration on unseen realities. Contemplation and self-hypnotism were widely practised. In ecstasy the mystic found a foretaste of that blissful loss of being, which is the goal and crown of philosophic thought. MONOPHYSITISM AND NEO-PLATONISM When we compare monophysitism with the system of Plotinus, several points of resemblance appear. There is first the impersonal character of the deity. Monophysitism was not a Trinitarian heresy, and the Catholic doctrine of the three persons in the godhead was the official creed of the heretical church. But their theologians refrained from laying emphasis upon the distinct personalities of Father, Son and Holy Ghost. Their sympathies were Sabellian to the core, and Sabellian heresies were constantly recurring within their communion. The impersonal Trinity, such as Plotinus taught, was thoroughly in keeping with their Christology. They lacked a clear conception of personality in the second Person of the Trinity. It was inevitable that they should overlook the same element in the incarnate Christ. The Neo-Platonic view of matter finds its counterpart in monophysite theory. The monophysites, without formally denying its real existence, nursed a Manichean suspicion of it. It was, to them, the seat of illusion; it was an obstacle to spirit, the enemy of spiritual development. If not unreal, it was at any rate unworthy. The association of Christ with matter through His body and through His human nature was, in their eyes, a degradation of deity. That Christ took matter up into His being as a permanent element, that He dignified the body and glorified human faculties, these facts seemed to the monophysite mind improbable, and, if true, devoid of religious significance. It came natural to him to explain Christ's body as a phantom. He was prepared to regard the human nature as unsubstantial. The mystic's view of matter, of sense and human existence characterises the whole monophysite outlook. In the spirit of Plotinus the monophysites conceived the incarnation as the supreme example of the _unio mystica_. The _unio mystica_ was a state of rapture, abnormal and temporary in earthly experience, in which the identity of the mystic was actually merged in the cosmic reason. The lower nature disappeared completely into the higher. It was absorption. This word "absorption" was in common use among the heretics. It was a trite saying among the first generation of the monophysites that "the human nature of Christ was absorbed in the divine, as a drop of honey in the ocean." They conceived His thought as lost in the universal reason, His will as surrendered to the will of God, His human affections as fused in the fire of divine feeling, His body as a phantom. They could not admit that He lived the real life of a real man. They could not see the value of such a life. Neo-Platonism had paralysed their optic nerve. Thinkers such as the Christologians of Alexandria, imbued with the spirit of Neo-Platonism, had no motive for preserving the distinct subsistence of Christ's human nature. It was their boast that their Ideal had faced and overcome and trampled on the lower elements of His being. He was a proof from fact that body and sense and all that is distinctively human could be sublimated into the universal substance, which is the primary effluence of the Plotinian One. In a word, the incarnate Christ was, to them, the personification of the Neo-Platonist _unio mystica_. We may conclude this comparison of monophysitism with Neo-Platonism by pointing out that the two systems had a similar bearing on the conduct of life. Neo-Platonism was a religion. Its speculative aspect was subordinate to its practical. A knowledge of the soul's position in creation and of its destiny laid the philosopher under strict obligation. Fasting and self-denial were essential preliminaries to the higher mystic practices. Ecstasy could not be reached until body and sense had been starved into complete submission. Monophysitism adopted this tradition, and made ascesis the central duty of the Christian life. The monophysite church became celebrated for the length and rigidity of its fasts. The monastic element dominated its communion. Indeed, it is hardly too much to say that the monophysite movement, on its external side, was an attempt to capture the Church for monastic principles. The heresy drew its inspiration from the cloister. The Christ of the monophysites had withdrawn from the market to the wilderness; so His followers must needs go out of the world to follow in His steps. [1] Harnack, "History of Dogma," vol. iv. chap. ii. p. 160. CHAPTER III MONOPHYSITE DOCTRINE The distinctive doctrine of monophysitism, that from which the name of the heresy is taken, is the assertion that there is but one nature, the divine nature, in Christ. There existed some difference of opinion among the monophysites as to whether any degree of reality might be ascribed to the human nature. Some were prepared to allow it conceptual reality; they would grant that Christ had been diphysite momentarily, that He was "out of two natures." But that admission is quite inadequate. It amounts to no more than the paltry concession that Christ's human nature before the incarnation is conceivable as a separate entity. All monophysites united in condemning the diphysite doctrine that after the incarnation Christ was and is "in two natures." Such a Christ they would not worship. It was "the image with two faces that the Council of Chalcedon had set up."[1] They adopted the Athanasian phrase, "One incarnate nature of God the Word," as their battle-cry. Monophysitism can make out a strong _prima facie_ case. It is attractive at first sight. The heretical formula seems simpler and more natural than the catholic. The unity of nature appears a corollary of the unity of person. Human personality is ordinarily assumed to be monophysite; so it is natural to make the same assumption as to divine personality. The simplicity of the doctrine is, however, all on the surface. It will not bear examination. As a definition of Christian faith it is useless. It cannot account for the recorded facts of Christ's life. The facts of His body, of His mind, of His sufferings refuse to fit into it. It affords no foundation for belief in His transcendent work. No intelligible doctrine of redemption can be built upon it. It contains no germ of hope for mankind. Therefore the Church in the name of Christ and on behalf of humanity rejected it. Although the heresy has been officially condemned, it should none the less be studied. It is improbable that any one in our time will defend the formula, or openly profess the doctrines that follow from it. But, though not recognised as such, it is an ever-present and instant menace to the Faith. Monophysite tendencies are inherent in religious thought. The metaphysical idea, on which it rests, still has a powerful hold over the human mind. Spiritually-minded men are especially liable to this form of error. It is a mistake to think that Christological questions were settled once and for all in the fifth century. Each generation has to settle them afresh. Accordingly, to exhibit the consequences of the monophysite formula, to show how wrong abstract ideas develop into wrong concrete ideas and falsify Christian practice, is a task of practical and present-day importance. CLASSIFICATION OF MONOPHYSITE ERRORS Two classes of erroneous beliefs result from a misconception of the relation between God and man in Christ. There arise, on the one hand, false opinions about the deity of Christ, and on the other, false opinions as to His manhood. We shall adopt this classification as we investigate the doctrinal consequences of the monophysite formula. It is the method followed in one of the earliest systematic criticisms of the heresy. Leo's Tome, or letter to Flavian, contains a lucid statement of the catholic doctrine of the incarnation, and an acute analysis of the system of Eutyches, the heresiarch. He summarises the errors of Eutyches under two heads; there are two main counts in his indictment of the heresy. Eutyches, he contends, makes Jesus Christ "deus passibilis et homo falsus." Eutyches and his followers compromised both deity and humanity. The deity becomes passible, the humanity unreal. All the monophysite misbeliefs can be classified under one or other of these two heads. THE CONCEPT "IMPASSIBILITY" AS APPLIED TO DEITY We shall take first those errors that compromise the nature of the deity, and shall preface our analysis by an explanation of the meaning of the term "deus impassibilis." The impassibility of God is the corner-stone of spiritual monotheism. Christianity owes it, as a philosophic doctrine, largely to Aristotle. He conceived deity as "actus purus," as the One who moves without being moved, a "causa sui." The popular gods of Greece were passible; they were possible objects of sense; they were acted on largely as man is acted on. They had a beginning, and were subject to many of the processes of time. They were swayed by human motives. They were, at times, angry, afraid, unsatisfied, ambitious, jealous. Aristotle gave to the world the conception of a transcendent God, a being who is real and yet is "without body, parts and passions," who cannot receive idolatrous worship, and is not an object of sense. Impassibility was one of the highest attributes of this being. The attribute does not involve or imply absence of feeling. Originally it had no reference to feeling, in the psychological sense of that word. It certainly excludes incidentally the lower, specifically human feelings, feelings caused by external stimuli, feelings due to want or to lack of power. It does not exclude the higher affections from the deity. Even in the _nóêsis noêseôs_ of Aristotle, there is room for the transcendent bliss of divine self-contemplation. Much more in the Christian God is there room for spontaneous feeling, springing from His own nature, the necessary concomitant of thought and will. Impassibility is a comprehensive attribute. Originally negative, it soon acquired a rich positive connotation. An impassible God is one who is outside space and time. The attribute connotes creative power, eternity, infinity, permanence. A passible God is corruptible, _i.e._ susceptible to the processes of becoming, change, and decay. If to-day theists have to be on their guard against debased conceptions of deity, in the plausible garb of an "invisible king," of a finite or suffering God, much more was such caution necessary in the early centuries of the Christian era. Christians who came daily and hourly into contact with polytheistic beliefs and practices had to be very jealous for the concept of impassibility. It represented to them all that was distinctive in the highest region of their Faith. Monophysitism, as we proceed to show, compromised this article of the Faith. Its adherents did not, perhaps, do so intentionally. In fact, the first generation of monophysites maintained that their definition safeguarded the impassibility. It was zeal for the honour of the Son of God that induced them to deny Him all contact with humanity. Their good intentions, however, could not permanently counteract the evil inherent in their system. In later generations the evil came to the surface. Theopaschitism, the doctrine that openly denies the impassibility of the godhead, flourished in the monophysite churches. MONISM ENTAILS A DEBASED CONCEPTION OF DEITY The metaphysical basis of monophysitism made this result inevitable. Extremes meet. Extreme spirituality readily passes into its opposite. It cuts the ground from under its own feet. It soars beyond its powers, and falls into the mire of materialism. Illustrations of this fact can be found in the history of philosophy. The Stoics, for instance, contrived to be both pantheists and materialists. Coming nearer to our own time, we find Hegelianism explained in diametrically opposite ways. After Hegel's death his disciples split into opposing camps; one party maintained that the real was spirit, the other that it was matter. Each party claimed the authority of the master for their view. The divergence is easy to explain. From spiritual monism it is a short step to materialistic monism. For the monist, all is on one level of being. He may by constant effort keep that level high. But gravity will act. We are more prone to degrade God to our level, than to rise to His. The same truth can be put _in abstracto_. Unless the relation between God and the world be preserved as a true relation, the higher term will sooner or later fall to the level of the lower, and be lost in it. This rule holds as well in movements of religious thought. The monophysite strove for a lofty conception of deity but achieved a low one. He undermined the doctrine of impassibility by the very measures he took to secure it. In the technical language of Christology the monophysites' debased conception of deity was a consequence of "confounding the natures." Attributes and actions, belonging properly only to Christ's humanity, were ascribed recklessly to His divinity. The test phrase "theotokos," invaluable as a protest against Nestorianism, became a precedent for all sorts of doctrinal extravagancies. The famous addition to the Trisagion, "who wast crucified for us," which for a time won recognition as sound and catholic, was first made by the monophysite Bishop of Antioch.[2] Both these phrases have scriptural authority, and they are justified by the _communicatio idiomatum_. But they are liable to misuse and misinterpretation. All depended on how they were said and who said them. The monophysite meant one thing by them, the catholic another. The _arrière pensée_ of the monophysite gave them a wrong turn. He was always on the look-out for paradox in Christ's life. He emphasised such phrases as appeared to detract from the reality of His human experiences. He spoke of Christ as "ruling the universe when He lay in the manger," or as "directing the affairs of nations from the Cross." The catholic can approve these phrases; in the mouth of a monophysite they have a heretical sound. They suggest a passible God; they degrade the infinite to the level of the finite. The monophysite confounds the natures, and so he has no right to appeal to the _communicatio idiomatum_. Unless the _idiomata_ are admitted as such, unless they are preserved in their distinctness, there can be no _communicatio_ between them. If they are fused, they cannot act and react upon each other. The monophysite, by identifying the natures, forfeits the right to use the term "Theotokos" and the Trisagion addition. On his lips their inevitable implication is a finite suffering God. MONOPHYSITISM AND THE DOCTRINE OF THE TRINITY Monophysitism was not originally or _per se_ a Trinitarian heresy. Equally with catholics and Nestorians its adherents accepted the Nicene definition. They professed to believe in one God in three co-equal persons. This belief, firmly held in all that it involves, would have kept them from attributing passibility to the Godhead, and ultimately have neutralised the errors of their Christology. But their Christology corrupted their theology. Abandoning all vital relation between God and man in Christ, they abandoned the relation in the Godhead. The internal and external relations of the Godhead are mutually dependent. If there be no trinity of persons, the incarnation is impossible. Were God a bare monad, He could not impart Himself and remain Himself. The fact that there are related persons in the deity is the only justification for the use of the phrases discussed in the previous paragraph. When the catholic says, "God was born, suffered, died," he is right, because his presupposition is right. When the monophysite uses the same words, he is wrong, because his presupposition is wrong. The catholic preserves in the background of his thought the distinction between the _ousía_ and the threefold _hypóstasis_, between the essential godhead and the three persons. So he is in no danger of ascribing passion to the essence or to the persons of Father or Holy Spirit. When he says "God was born," he is compressing two statements into one. He means "Christ was born, and Christ was God." Not in respect of what He has in common with the other persons of the Trinity, but in respect of His property of sonship did He lower Himself to the plane of suffering. The catholic holds not a suffering God, but a suffering divine person. He maintains an impassible God, but a passible Christ. A dead God is a contradiction in terms; a Christ who died is the hope of humanity. Monophysite theology became involved in further embarrassments. Unwillingness to attribute passibility to God, coupled with the desire to remain in some sort trinitarians, forced many of the monophysites into the Sabellian position. Deity, they said in effect, did not suffer in the second person of the trinity, because there is no such person. The persons of the trinity are simply characters assumed by the monadic essence, or aspects under which men view it. On this showing, the Logos, who was incarnate, had no personal subsistence. The relation between God and man ever remains impersonal. Christ, _qua_ divine, was only an aspect or effluence of deity. This, for the monophysite, was the one alternative to the doctrine of a passible God. He was faced with a desperate dilemma. If he retained his belief in a transcendent God, he must surrender belief in a triune God. He could choose between the two; but his Christology permitted no third choice. For him, the only alternative to a finite God was a lone God. As a result monophysite theology oscillated between denial of the impassibility of God and denial of his three-fold personality. In either case the orthodox doctrine of the godhead was abandoned. One of the stock questions propounded by the catholics to the monophysites was, "Was the trinity incomplete when the Son of God was on earth?" The question is crudely expressed, as it ignores the type of existence proper to spiritual personality; but it contains a sufficiently sound _ad hominem_ argument. The monophysite could not say "yes," or he would then be driven to assert a passible God. If he said "no," his reply was tantamount to the assertion that the whole essence of the Godhead was incarnate. The logic of this dilemma was so cogent that not a few monophysites succumbed to it, and adopted a position similar to that of the earlier Patripassianists. These seceded from the monophysite church, and founded an independent sect, called the Theopaschites. As often happens, the sect is, doctrinally, more representative than the parent body. The Theopaschites were the thinkers who had the courage to push the monophysite doctrines to their logical conclusions. Those who did not secede, unable to defend their own doctrinal position, retaliated with the counter-charge of tetratheism. This stroke was simply a confession of weakness. Monism was strangling their Christianity at every turn. Instead of breaking free from it, they pretended that their opponents were polytheists. The catholic, however, was neither monist nor pluralist. The incarnation was not the addition of a fourth divine being to the trinity. The essence of the godhead remained complete, unchanged and impassible; while the hypostatic union of God and man in Christ made possible the assumption of a passible nature by the person of the Son of God. MONOPHYSITISM AND ISLAM--SABELLIANISM THE CONNECTING LINK It is in place here to point out the somewhat intimate connection that existed between monophysitism and Islam. The monophysites held the outposts of the Empire. Mahomet came into contact with them, and it was probably from them that he formed his conception of Christian doctrine. The later history of the monophysite churches shows that they often secured a large measure of toleration at the hands of the Caliphs, while the diphysites were being rigorously persecuted. Lapses to Islam were not infrequent, and in some periods apostasy on a large scale occurred. Cases are on record even of monophysite patriarchs who abjured their faith and joined the followers of the Prophet. The connection between monophysitism and Islam was not fortuitous. There was a doctrinal affinity between them. Both systems were rigidly monotheistic. Both degraded the notion of deity by a perverse attempt to exalt it. Both cut redemption and mediation out of their religion. The family likeness between the two systems does not extend beyond the realm of the doctrine of supreme deity. In other respects the religion of the sword and the religion of love have little or nothing in common. Crescent and Cross are poles asunder. The monophysites as a body remained nominally and in intention Christians and trinitarians. But in the doctrinal area specified the resemblance holds. It could hardly be otherwise. Sabellian tendencies were always present and powerful in the monophysite communion, and Sabellianism is a long step in the direction of Islam. Sabellius taught in effect, "Allah is one." The three persons, for him, were only aspects of the one indivisible deity. There are no distinct entities corresponding to the names of Father, Son and Holy Spirit. Sabellianism is intimately associated with monism in all its phases. Monophysitism being essentially monist could not escape the taint. Whether Sabellianism made the heretics monophysites, or monophysitism made them Sabellians, we need not inquire. The two creeds are bound up in the same bundle by the tie of monism. The relation of the Son to the Father and the relation of the Son to humanity are vitally connected. Misconception of the one relation entails misconception of the other. Denial of relation in the godhead goes hand in hand with denial of relation in Christ. If the theologian reduces the latter to bare unity, he does the same for the former. Catholic Christology is thus a necessary deduction from trinitarian dogma. Nicaea necessitated Chalcedon. To safeguard the distinction of persons in the godhead, a distinction in the natures of Christ was essential. To preserve intact the latter distinction, the proprium of the Son and His personal subsistence had to be kept distinct from the proprium and subsistence of the Father. THE CHRISTOLOGICAL ERRORS OF MONOPHYSITISM We leave here the area of theology and come to that of Christology. We have exhibited the monophysite errors with respect to the doctrine of primal deity; we now proceed to analyse their views with respect to the incarnate Christ. The former subject leads the thinker into deep water; the layman is out of his depth in it; so it does not furnish material for a popular controversy. It is otherwise with the latter subject. Here the issue is narrowed to a point. It becomes a question of fact, namely, "Was Christ a real man?" The question and most of the answers given to it are readily intelligible, and they naturally gave rise to heated controversy. Theopaschitism is, as we have shown, a tendency inherent in the heresy, but one slow to come to the surface, and one easily counter-acted and suppressed by the personal piety of the monophysite. Its docetism, the assertion of the unreality of Christ's human nature, lies on the surface. No amount of personal piety can neutralise it. It has had, and still has, a crippling effect on the faith of devout Christians. Even where it is not carried to the length of formal heresy, it spreads a haze of unreality over the gospel story, and dulls the edge of belief. The second count of Leo's charge against the monophysites was, it will be remembered, that their presentation of Christ made Him "homo falsus." Under this heading "homo falsus" may be classed a wide group of erroneous tenets, ranging from the crudities of early docetism to the subtleties of Apollinarianism. We propose to sketch those of major importance. No attempt will be made to take them in their historical order or historical setting. Further, it is not implied that they all formed part of the official doctrine of the monophysite church. The standard of belief in that communion was constantly varying, and the history of its dogma would need a work to itself. We shall deal with those Christological errors, which, whether part of the official monophysite creed or not, are logical results of the monophysite formula. Unreality may be predicated of Christ's human nature as a whole, or in respect of its parts. Consubstantiality with humanity may be denied of the whole of his human nature; or deficiency in one or other of the essential constituents of human nature may be alleged. We shall deal first with those errors that concern the entire nature, coming later to the errors in respect of one or more of its several parts. Suspicion of the reality of Christ's human nature as a whole is characteristic of all monophysite thought. This suspicion, not always formulated or expressed, is everywhere present. If the monophysites admitted the fact of His true manhood, they denied or neglected the religious value of that fact. Their spurious spirituality rebelled against a dogma which seemed to tie the infinite down to a point in history. The fact that the Son of God lived a perfect human life contained no inspiration for them. They idealised the incarnation. It was not for them a historical event. This is a corollary to the proposition, maintained by their great champion, Philoxenus, that "no addition to His person took place." It is tantamount to saying that the union of divine and human in Christ is purely conceptual. When the monophysite faced the question, "What change in Christ did the incarnation effect?" his formula constrained him to reply, "It made no change." The deity of the person was not denied. The pre-existent Logos and the Christ who walked in Galilee were admittedly one and the same. The second person of the trinity and Jesus of Nazareth were one personality. If Bethlehem made no change in that personality, it was purposeless, and the import of the incarnation disappears. THE MONOPHYSITE THEORY OF A COMPOSITION OF NATURES For the consistent monophysites, then, the human nature, as a psychic entity with peculiar properties, did not survive the incarnation. They did, however, allow it a verbal reality. They admitted a composition of natures, and this composition provided for them whatever degree of reality the incarnation possessed. On this point their Christology passed through several stages of development, the later stages showing progressive improvement on the earlier. They distinguished three senses of the word "composition." First, they said, it might mean "absorption," as when a drop of water is absorbed in a jar of wine. Second, it might imply the transmutation of constituent particles, as when a third unlike thing is formed from two. Thirdly, there is composition when, from the association of two whole and entire things, a third whole and entire compound thing is formed without loss to the components. They illustrated the third mode of composition by the union in man of soul and body. The pre-Eutychian monophysites regarded the hypostatic union as a composition in the first sense of the word. They spoke of Christ's human nature as absorbed in the divine, as is "a drop of vinegar in the ocean." Eutyches adopted the term in its second sense. He taught that the Word became flesh[3] "as the atmosphere assumes bodily form and becomes rain or snow under the influence of the wind, and as water becomes ice by reason of the cold air." Philoxenus in a later generation saw that both these positions were wrong and the similes misleading. He taught a hypostatic union totally devoid of confusion or loss or commutation of the elements of the two natures. To illustrate his meaning he used the simile supplied by the "Athanasian" creed, "as the reasonable soul and flesh is one man, so God and Man is one Christ." This position is a vast improvement on that of the original monophysites. It was ground gained to secure the admission that in any sense Christ was very man. But the monophysites never learned the true manner of the union, namely, that Christ was "one; not by conversion of the Godhead into flesh, but by taking of the Manhood into God; one altogether; not by confusion of Substance but by unity of Person." Read in this connection the assertion that God and man is one Christ, "as the reasonable soul and flesh is one man," is orthodox; read apart from this context, it is ambiguous. If the simile be kept as a simile, as a mere suggestion or hint as to how, in general, two may compose one and yet remain two, then no exception can be taken to it. If, however, the clause be interpreted as a proportion sum, assigning corresponding values to the different terms, then it savours strongly of Apollinarianism. Most monophysites, like many moderns, probably understood it in the mathematical sense. Christ, they argued, was God and man, just as man is rational soul and body; the terms are in proportion; therefore the divine nature was the rational soul, and the human nature was the body. They forgot that the free act of the whole divine person in assuming man underlies the union and makes it efficacious; they gave _sárx_; the narrow meaning of _sôma_, they set before themselves the picture, not of the infinite robing in the finite, but of the union of mind and matter. Consequently they habitually spoke of the Logos, as assuming, not man or a human nature, but a body. Such in its varying phases was the monophysite doctrine of composition. At its worst, it contained a direct denial of the real humanity of Christ. At its best, it falls far short of the catholic doctrine of His real, perfect and complete humanity. The permanent assumption of human nature into the transcendent personality had no meaning for the heretic party. If it had taken place, it was, they thought, merely momentary, with no after-effects, the passing of a summer cloud across the face of the sun. We have considered the monophysites' view of Christ's human nature, regarded as an integral psychic entity. It is evident that they either undervalued it or denied its existence. The more consistent thinkers of their party maintained that the incarnation had made no difference in the being of Christ, and that therefore His human nature had no objective reality. Those who shrank from carrying the doctrine to that length conceded to the orthodox that the incarnation had to some extent modified the being of Christ, that its net result was a composition. Further analysis showed that this concession was rendered nugatory; that in whatever sense the word "composition" was taken, it was inadequate to express the hypostatic union; that the composition proved in its first significance illusory, in its second, hybridous, in its third, Apollinarianist. We pass on now to review the human nature in its constituent parts, and it will be seen that the heretical formula undermines faith in respect of each several part. THE "PARTS" OF HUMAN NATURE From the standpoint of psychology human nature is divisible into parts. The division must not be taken as absolute; for the whole is a unity, and the parts are not discrete _quanta_. The division is rather a classification of psychic states according to predominating features. The classification corresponds, however, to the facts of experience, and so psychology is justified in making use of it. We shall adopt it in our investigation of the psychology of Christ. The sharpest dividing line is that between immaterial and material, between soul and body. The states of the soul fall into three well-marked groups, thought, will, and feeling. The physical and the psychic are not always distinguishable. Still more uncertain and tentative is the identification in the psychic of cognitive, volitional, and emotional faculties. But in every man these parts are found. They are constituents of human nature. There may be other elements as yet unanalysed; but there can be no complete humanity that is deficient in respect of any of these parts. We propose to take them singly in the above order, to show their existence in the historic Christ, and to expose the monophysite attempts to explain them away. CHRIST'S BODY It is obvious to an unprejudiced reader of the gospels that Christ's pre-resurrection body was real and normal. It was an organism of flesh and blood, of the same constitution and structure as ours. It occupied space, and was ordinarily subject to the laws of space. It was visible and tangible. It shared the natural processes of birth, growth, and metabolism. At the resurrection a catastrophic change took place in it. It was still a body. It was still Christ's body. Continuity was preserved. The evidences of continuity were external, and so strong as to convince doubters. We cannot fathom either the change or the continuity. What we know is that after the resurrection the body was not so subject as before to the laws of space. It was, it would seem, of finer atoms and subtler texture. It had reached the height of physical being, and development apparently had ceased. It was the entelechy of the human body. It was still real, though no longer normal. To employ paradox, it was natural of the species "supernatural." It was the natural body raised to a higher power. It was natural to human denizens of a higher world. Body's function is two-fold. It both limits the soul and expresses it. It narrows the activity of the person to a point, and thus serves as a fine instrument for action upon matter. At the same time it draws out the potentialities of the soul and fixes its development. The post-resurrection body was apparently less limitative and more expressive. The foregoing considerations may be summed up in the form of three dogmata, all of which orthodox Christianity teaches. These are, first, that Christ's pre-resurrection body was real and natural; second, that His resurrected and ascended body is real and supernatural; third, that there was a real continuity, whether by development or by epigenesis between the two. In all these points the monophysites missed the truth. Their presuppositions misled them. As monists they were inclined to regard matter as sinful. They could not conceive the infinite donning a soiled robe. "Our body with its hateful wants" could not, they thought, be a tabernacle for the Logos. The idea of the native dignity of the human frame and of its being ennobled by the King's indwelling was completely foreign to the monophysites' ways of thinking. Since such was the background of their thought it was inevitable that definitely heretical doctrines should result. In the first place we meet the flat denial of the reality of Christ's body. Even in apostolic days those who held this heresy were found. They denied that Christ had come in the flesh. They were styled docetists or phantasiasts. According to them the body had no objective reality. It was a phantom. Its reality was entirely subjective. It was the effect produced on the perceptions of those who associated with the mysterious spirit-being. The Logos, as viewed by the phantasiasts, at the incarnation struck His being into the bounds of time, but not of space. Divine personality, they thought, did not require and could not use a material medium. This doctrine was not part of the official monophysite creed; but, as pointed out in the previous chapter, monophysitism was a lineal descendant of docetism, and always showed traces of its lineage. The saying that, "Christ brought His body from heaven," was commonly attributed to Eutyches. He denied having said it, but, at any rate, the general feeling of his followers was that Christ's physical nature was divine and therefore not consubstantial with ours. Such doctrines destroy the discipline of faith in the resurrection. The radical difference between the natural and the resurrection body is blurred by them. The immense change is abolished. The resurrection becomes purely a spiritual change, which even a non-Christian could accept. The body, according to the tenor of monophysite teaching, was spirit before the resurrection and spirit after it. Thus the ascension too becomes purely spiritual. It is shorn of half its significance. The Christian's hope for the human body rests on the fact that Christ returned to heaven with something that He did not bring from heaven, namely, a glorified human body. If He brought that body with Him from heaven, the main significance of His human dispensation falls to the ground. The incarnation becomes unreal, illusory, impotent. An offshoot of docetism that flourished among the monophysites is the aphthartodocetic heresy. This is of considerable historical importance. Large numbers of the Syrian and Egyptian monophysites embraced it, and seceded from the parent church. It became part of the official creed of Armenian Christianity, and that church has not repudiated it to this day. There are good, though hardly conclusive, grounds for holding that the emperor Justinian, profound theologian and life-long champion of orthodoxy, was converted to the heretical theory in the last few months of his life.[4] Aphthartodocetism, affirming the reality of Christ's body, denies that it was subject to the wear and tear of life. The body, as this heresy taught, was superior to natural process; it was neither corrupted nor corruptible. The term "corruptibility" has the wide significance of organic process, that is the lot of all created living things. A milder form of the heresy asserted that Christ's body was corruptible but was not corrupted. Aphthartodocetism springs from a spurious spirituality, from a fastidiousness that has no place in true religion. It is symptomatic of Manicheanism, which associates matter with sin. Christians affirm sinlessness of Christ's humanity; they do not affirm immateriality of His body. The monophysites, in abandoning the true Christology, were predisposed to the infection of this heresy. A being in whom organic process was present seemed to these heretics no fit object of worship. They called the orthodox Ctistolatrae or Phthartolatrae, worshippers of the created or corruptible. Monophysites of all shades of opinion united in condemning the practice of worshipping Christ's human nature. That practice was in their eyes both idle and injurious; idle, because the human nature did not exist as a separate entity; injurious, because it fixed the mind of the worshipper on the finite. In consequence they were much opposed to all observances based on a belief in His humanity. Images or other representations of Him in human form seemed to them idolatrous. The monophysite church was not directly concerned in the iconoclastic controversy, but their doctrines were indirectly responsible for it. In fact the great monophysites, Severus and Philoxenus, have been styled "the fathers of the iconoclasts." MONOPHYSITISM BLIND TO THE DUAL CHARACTER OF CHRIST'S EXPERIENCE Such were the difficulties and errors into which their Christology forced the monophysites with respect to Christ's body. Difficulties equally great and errors equally fatal attended their attempt to conceive the conjunction of psychic elements with the divine person. Their formula was too narrow. It compelled them to shut their eyes to one outstanding fact, namely, the duality of Christ's earthly experience. This fact confronts the reader on every page of the gospels. The duality is deep-seated; it extends to each psychic element, yet stops short of the personality. In the world of Christ's nature there are two hemispheres. His experiences are on two planes. In both of these hemispheres or planes we find thought, will, and feeling. His thought on the higher plane is radically different in mode and scope from His thought on the lower plane. The two are of a different order. The same difference holds with respect to the other two psychic elements. We propose to exemplify this assertion, first, in the case of cognition, and then in the case of will and feeling. This procedure will simplify the task of exposing the further consequences of the monophysite Christology. THE DUALITY OF CHRIST'S COGNITION The duality of Christ's intellectual experience is evident to a New Testament student who has any acquaintance with psychology. We find in Christ two cognitive faculties with two dominant universes of thought and knowledge. On occasions He speaks and acts as if He read at a glance all the secrets of nature and the human heart, as if all time past, present, and future was an open book to him, as if He were in the counsels of the Most High. On those occasions divine intuition superseded in Him the slow and faulty methods of human intelligence; thought was vision, intellect intuition, knowledge omniscience. Thus His divine nature cognised and knew. That, however, is only one half of the picture. On other occasions his mind appears to have been perfectly human. His intelligence and perceptive faculties differed not essentially from ours. He asked questions and sought information. He used human categories. He progressed in wisdom. The development of His mind was gradual. His knowledge was relative to His age and surroundings. Memory and obliviscence, those complementary and perhaps constituent elements of soul-being, attention, sensation, recognition, and discursive reasoning, all these exhibitions of the workings of the normal mind appeared in Christ. In this manner His human nature cognised and knew. MONOPHYSITISM ENTAILS THE APOLLINARIAN VIEW OF CHRIST'S HUMAN NATURE AS MERELY AN ANIMATED BODY The Catholic welcomes these evidences of the duality of Christ's intellectual life. On the theoretical side, they confirm the central dogma of orthodox Christology. On the practical side, they give him authority for seeking Christ's sympathy in matters intellectual. He realises that since Christ understands the education of the mind and can share his intellectual difficulties, there is hope for the redemption and regeneration of the highest part of his nature. The monophysite finds neither support for his dogma, nor inspiration for life, in the fact that Christ had a human mind. He is blind to the fact. He has seen half the picture and regards it as the whole. His ideal is a being in whom intuition supersedes intellect, whose knowledge is immediate, absolute, and complete. The orthodox who held that Christ had and, at ordinary times, used a human reason, perfect of its kind, but still human in all the implications of the word, were in his eyes Agnoëtae; they were unbelievers who asserted the ignorance of Christ and set bounds to the vision and knowledge of the infinite. The monophysite would modify his opinions and approach the catholic position on other doctrinal points, but never on this. He might be persuaded to admit that Christ's body and "animal soul" were real and human, but to the consubstantiality of Christ's mind with man's he would not subscribe. The Apollinarian strain in monophysitism was persistent. The later monophysites never succeeded in banishing it from their system. By Apollinarianism the humanity of Christ is crippled in its highest member. It is a realm shorn of its fairest province. According to Apollinaris, all that Christ assumed was an animated body. His theory is like an ingenious system of canal locks for letting divine personality descend from the upper to the lower waters. The ingenuity displayed in it condemns it. It is an artificial makeshift. The psychology on which it rests is antiquated. The picture of Christ it presents does not correspond to the recorded facts of His life. Christ's human nature, as chiselled by the Apollinarian sculptor, is a torso. Such an image fails to satisfy the demands of religious feeling, and the doctrines, Apollinarian and monophysite, that enshrine it are therefore valueless. TWO WILLS IN CHRIST We here leave the subject of cognition and pass to that of volition. Orthodoxy teaches that Christ had two wills. This doctrine has a double basis. In the first place, it is a corollary of the doctrine of two natures. In the second, it is established by the recorded facts of the gospel narrative. To take first the _a priori_ argument. A nature without a will is inconceivable. A cognitive faculty without the dynamic of the volitional would be a machine without driving force. The absurdity of the supposition, indeed, is not fully brought out by the simile. For we can consider the machine at rest; it would then have existence and potential activity. Will, however, is essential to the existence as well as to the activity of thought. The connection between them is vital to both. The psychologist distinguishes the respective parts each plays in life and marks off faculties to correspond to each. But his distinction is only provisional. The two develop _pari passu_, they are never separable; they act and re-act on one another. Without some degree of attention there is no thought, not even perception of external objects. Attention is as much an act of will as of thought. Man does not first evolve ideas and then summon will to actuate them. In the very formation of ideas will is present and active. Accordingly from the duality of Christ's cognitive nature the psychologist would infer that He had two wills. There is in Christ the divine will that controlled the forces of nature and could suspend their normal workings, the will that wrought miracle, the eternal will, infinite in scope and power, that was objectified in His age-long universal purpose, in a word, the will that undertook the superhuman task of cosmic reconstruction and achieved it. It is not easy for us to conceive the co-existence of two wills in one person. The difficulty is part of the discipline of faith. Christ's human will is no less a fact than His divine will. The former played as large a part in His earthly experience as the latter. It was present in all its normal phases, ranging from motor will to psychic resolve. The lower forms of volition, motor impulse, desire and wish, the higher forms, deliberation, choice, purpose and resolve. He shared them all with humanity. There is in Him a human will, limited in scope, varying in intensity, developing with the growth of His human experience, a will like ours in everything, except that it was free from moral imperfection. It was a finite will, inasmuch as the conditioning cognition was finite, perfect of its kind, adequate to its task, never faltering, yet of finite strength. The two wills have each their own sphere. They operate in perfect harmony. Only at crises, such as the Agony, is there any appearance of discord. The opposition there is only apparent. The human will reaches its limit, and the superhuman will interposes to perform the superhuman task. The reality of the two wills, established for the orthodox both _a priori_ and by an appeal to fact, is denied by the monophysite. He regards will as the fundamental psychic state and makes it an attribute of personality. Two wills, he says, would necessitate two persons. He does not see that personality lies deeper than will, and that will and cognition are co-ordinate attributes of nature. If Christ had but one nature, it follows that He had but one will and operation. The monophysite thinks of two wills as necessarily antagonistic, as are conflicting motives in man; so he sees no ethical value in dithelite doctrine. As a matter of fact the moral influence of Christianity would be much weakened by an abandonment of the doctrine of two wills. The belief in Christ's human will prevents men from despairing of their will. Human will cannot be wholly warped, or wholly misdirected, or utterly powerless, since Christ in His life has shown that it can work along the same lines as the divine will, that the two can co-operate, and that where the lower reaches its limit, the higher can step in and perfect the work. From the historian's point of view the monothelite controversy is quite distinct from the monophysite. So we need only take a glance at it here. It originated in an attempt to win back the monophysites to the orthodox communion by a doctrinal compromise. The emperor Heraclius endeavoured to unite catholic and monophysite on the basis of the formula, "two natures with one will and operation." That formula will not bear analysis, and the emperor's attempt to use it as an eirenicon was a complete failure. Imperial pressure induced a few monophysites to modify their doctrine so far as to admit "one theandric operation;" but the concession of "one will" from the orthodox side failed to win from the monophysites the expected concession of "two natures." The monophysites were quite consistent here. To deny will of nature is an elementary mistake in psychology. Only a tyro in introspection will ascribe will directly to personality. A one-willed two-natured personality is little short of a psychological monstrosity. An attempt to rally Christendom round such a figure was bound to fail. The only lasting result of the emperor's activity was the formation of a new sect, the Maronites. THE DUALITY OF CHRIST'S EMOTIONAL EXPERIENCE We come now to the third element in the human spirit. It is only in modern psychology that feeling has secured recognition as a distinct constituent of man's nature; so it is not surprising that the question as to its position in the incarnate Christ was not raised in former days. Now, however, the psychology of feeling has come into its own, and it has become important to consider whether in this particular, too, Christ shared our human experience. Here, again, the argument for maintaining the duality of Christ's emotional experience is twofold. It follows, on the one hand, from the duality of the other parts of His nature; and, on the other hand, it is proved by the facts of His life as recorded in the gospels. Human nature involves feeling, and two natures involve two universes of feeling. Divine personality cannot be conceived as devoid of feeling. With men feeling lies in the depths of being; it is the dynamic of life. Feeling is the inner reflex of acts of thought and will. It invariably accompanies cognition and volition. If thought and will be attributed to the supreme being, the attribute of feeling cannot be left out. When the God in Christ acted, divine feeling accompanied the act. This surmise is proved correct on reference to the records of His life. We find there two distinct emotional zones. Christ has all the blameless feelings natural to man. There are in Him the feelings accompanying sensation; physical pleasure and pain, hunger, thirst, weariness, and, in addition, the higher grades of feeling, aesthetic, sympathetic, and ethical. He experienced wonder, surprise, righteous anger, the sublime, joy and love. A life rich in emotion was the life of the Man Christ Jesus. When, however, we look more closely into His experience, we catch glimpses of feeling such as no man could know. We see there transcendent passion, great sorrow, great joy, so great that they would break a human heart. We may instance the deep emotion accompanying His resolve to go to meet His fate at Jerusalem, the rejoicing in spirit at the success of the apostles' mission, His Agony and His universal love. The monophysites could not recognise this duality in Christ's emotional nature. Hunger and thirst, and even the higher human feelings they considered derogatory to the Son of God. Even when they admitted that He suffered, they threw a veil of mystery over His sufferings. They idealised the Passion. They made it seem as if His flesh was privileged, as if His omnipotence excused Him from the emotional experiences of humanity. SUMMARY OF THE CHAPTER We have examined the doctrine of one nature, and exposed its chief consequences. We have considered its effects in respect of the deity of Christ and in respect of His manhood. We have applied the doctrine to the human nature as a whole, and to the several parts that compose it. The result of the examination may be summarised in brief. Monophysitism destroys what is divine in the deity and what is human in the humanity. It offers to Christians a Christ who is not sufficiently above man to be able to help them by His power, nor sufficiently man to be able to help them by His sympathy. The monophysite Christ is neither very God nor very man, but a composition in which all traces of the original entities are lost to view. [1] "The Chronicle of Zachariah of Mitylene," translated by Hamilton and Brooks, chap. iii. p. 46. [2] This addition to the Trisagion was officially condemned at the close of the 7th century owing to its monophysite associations. [3] "Chronicle of Zachariah of Mitylene," translated by Hamilton and Brooks, ii. 2, p. 21. [4] The question of Justinian's orthodoxy has been debated by Bury and Hutton. See _Guardian_, March 4th and April 15th, 1896. CHAPTER IV THE ETHOS OF MONOPHYSITISM Monophysitism originated in a monastery. Eutyches, "the father of the monophysites," was a monk. The monastic temperament is peculiarly susceptible to this heresy, and the monastic element has always been dominant in the monophysite churches. The cloister is the natural habitat of the doctrine of the one nature. Monasticism is applied monism. If the world's existence be a sham, if its value compared with God be negligible, it becomes a religious duty to avoid all influences that heighten the illusion of the world's real existence and intrinsic value. The monist, like the monk, must renounce all secular interests and "go out of the world." The path of renunciation had an additional claim on the Christological monist. In his universal ideal, as manifested in time, the human elements were sublimated into the divine. Consequently his ideal of conduct imposed a negative attitude towards the world and a merging of his ego in the universal spirit. These are the ruling elements in the spirit of the cloister, and these are the characteristics of the monophysite ethos. Those men, to whom God is the sum of all reality and the world merely a cosmic shadow, regard worship as the sole worthy activity of the human spirit. In worship union with God is sought, a union so close that the personality of the worshipper is absorbed into the being of the worshipped. His experience of God is so intimate that his experience of the world is reduced to insignificance. As an overpowering human love welds two beings into one, and identifies their thoughts, wills, springs of action and even feelings, so the _amor dei_ identifies man with God and makes possible a deification of humanity. Deeply religious natures in all ages have heard this mystic call. To lose their ego in the divine spirit is the height of their religious ambition. The conception is lofty, but it is not the Christian ideal of life and duty. Mysticism and monophysitism are twin systems. Both are religious phases of pantheism. As, to the intellect, acosmism is the corollary of pantheism, so, to the heart, asceticism follows from mysticism. Whether conceived in terms of existence or of value, the world for the mystic is an obstacle to the _unio mystica_. It snares the mind through the senses and creates a fictitious -appearance of solid reality in sensuous objects. It makes pretensions to goodness and attaches to itself a spurious value. The only remedy is self-denial, denial of existence to the world, denial of credence to the senses, denial of gratification to the passions, desires, and inclinations. The monophysites were mystics. They were the rigorists of the eastern church. They formed the "no compromise" party. They stood for a thorough-going renunciation of the world and the flesh. Though they did not officially lay down the inherent evil of matter, Manicheanism is latent in their system. They did not explicitly identify matter with the spirit of evil, but they had the spiritual man's suspicion of matter and his contempt for the body of the flesh. Abstinence, mortification of the flesh, and all ascetic practices flourished in their communion. Art and culture were suspect; they had no eye for natural beauty. Some of their hymn-writers possessed considerable poetic taste; but poetry was discouraged by their leaders. Several of the extant letters of Severus of Antioch show that that patriarch did his best to banish that art from his church. His attitude may be gathered from the following quotation.[1] "As to Martyrius, the poet, ... I wish you to know that he is a trouble to me and a nuisance. Indeed in the case of the others also who follow the same profession, and were enrolled in the holy clergy of the Church that is with us, I have debarred them from practising such poetry; and I am taking much trouble to sever this theatrical pursuit from ecclesiastical gravity and modesty, a pursuit that is the mother of laxity and is also capable of causing youthful souls to relax and casting them into the mire of fornication, and carrying them to bestial passions." The result of this asceticism was a jaundiced and inhuman outlook on life. There was much piety among the monophysites, but it was confined to a narrow channel. Their zeal for purity of doctrine amounted to fanaticism; their hatred of the Nestorian and of the Melchite at times reached a white heat. Toleration was almost unknown in their communion. The claims of humanity appeal less to a monophysite than to other Christians. He places all life's values in the other world. He has no motive for trying to ameliorate the lot of his fellow-men. Social service has to him little or no divine sanction or religious value. We are speaking only of general tendencies. No follower of Christ, however perverted his views, could be totally indifferent to the welfare of other men; but it came natural to the monophysite to think that it does not matter much how a man lives in this world of shadows, provided he holds communion with the world of unseen realities. The same motive accounts for the rapid decline of missionary activity in their communion. The Nestorians were far more active propagandists. Worship is a very high type of service; but worship becomes selfish and sickens into sentiment, if it neglects the inspiring tonic of contact with human need. The monophysite Christology encouraged that form of self-sacrifice, whose goal is Nirvana, which lapses lazily into the cosmic soul and loses itself there in contemplation and ecstasy. It supplies no motive for that finer piety which manifests itself in ethical endeavour and practical philanthropy. His Christ had not partaken of the cup of suffering. His Christ's advance to human perfection was illusory. So the monophysite could not look for the sympathy of Christ in his own struggles, nor could he appeal to Christ's example in respect of works of human charity. Monophysitism considers only the religious nature of man, and takes no account of his other needs. We must therefore characterise the system as unsocial, unlovely, unsympathetic. The uncompromising attitude of the individual monophysites was reflected in their ecclesiastical polity. We cannot but admire their sturdy independence. The monophysite church stood for freedom from state control. Her principles were the traditional principles of the Alexandrian see. Alexandria would not truckle to Constantinople, nor let religion subserve imperial policy. She would allow the catholic party to be Melchites (King's men) and to reap all the temporal advantages accruing to the established church. In this matter the monophysites took a narrow view; but their narrowness evinces their piety. They felt the evils attendant on Constantine's grand settlement, and they made their ill-judged protest. They made it for no unworthy motive. There are always such thinkers in the church. A spiritual enthusiast despises the outward dignity that the church gains from an alliance with the State, and is often blind to the spiritual benefits conferred on the nation by that alliance, while he concentrates his gaze on incidental evils. To connect with Christology such an attitude towards the principle of Establishment may seem forced at first sight. The connection, however, exists. Independence of the temporal power is symptomatic with that unworldliness which, as we have shown above, characterises monophysitism. Its adherents paid no respect to the human as such. They attached no value to merely human institutions, and made no attempt to see or foster the divine that is in them. The argument that because the State is a human institution it should have no voice in ecclesiastical policy is typically monophysite; it is the argument of one who could draw no inspiration from the human life of the Son of God. Mysticism and rationalism have much in common. They both are elements in the mental composition of almost every serious thinker. The sterility of logic often drives him to seek a higher and surer instrument of knowledge. So there is no inconsistency in further characterising the monophysites as rationalists. The intellectuals of the eastern church were found mostly in their communion. Theirs was the formal logic point of view. Christ, they urged, was one and not two; therefore His nature was one and not two. They could not see that He was both. In Bergsonian language, they used exclusively mechanical categories. Intelligence, an instrument formed by contact with matter, destined for action upon matter, they used on a supra-material subject. Their thinkers were highly trained logicians; they revelled in abstract argument; theirs was a cold intellectual metaphysic, unwarmed by flesh and blood empiricism. Their narrow outlook on life, their religious zeal and their rationalist philosophy combined to produce in them sectarianism of an extreme type. Party spirit ran high among them. They fought the catholics; they fought the Nestorians; they fought one another. The list of schisms that occurred in their communion is of amazing length. The letters of Severus of Antioch make sad reading. They show us that the patriarch had constantly to interfere in cases of disputed succession to bishoprics. At almost every vacancy in the provincial dioceses there were parties formed each with their own nominee, ready to schismatise if they could not secure recognition and consecration for him. It is evident that monophysitism does not foster the generous, tolerant, humane virtues of Christianity. It is the creed of monks, mystics, and intellectualists. [1] E. W. Brooks, "Select Letters of Severus of Antioch," vol. ii. pp. 88, 89. CHAPTER V MONOPHYSITISM AND MODERN PSYCHOLOGY Christology divorced from empirical psychology is a barren science. Abstract discussions about person, nature and union of natures soon degenerate into logomachies. If personality is a psychic entity, and nature another distinct psychic entity, then the question at issue between diphysite and monophysite is worth debating. If they are concepts merely, the debate is hollow and of purely academic interest. A study of psychology clothes the dry bones with flesh. It puts life and meaning into these abstractions. It shows that they represent entities, that something corresponding to the terms "person" and "nature" is actually part of the being of every man, and that therefore their existence in Christ is a proper and practical subject for investigation. In so doing psychology provides the _rationale_ of the Christological controversies. It justifies the church in her determined adherence to the precise expression of the truth. No Christian with powers of introspection, who can distinguish in his own being personality and nature, can be indifferent to the Christological problem. The problem is one of fact, not theory. The terms and the formula are only of importance as expressing or failing to express the true facts of Christ's being. In a word, the psychology of the central figure of human history is the matter at issue. Reference to psychological fact is what one misses in the records of the old controversies. The disputes read as if they were about shadows. No doubt that was often the case. Catholics and non-Catholics were often agreed as to the substance of belief, while owing to their devotion to words and formulae the agreement went unrecognised. Had the disputants made clear to themselves and to each other what they meant by their abstract terms, had they translated them into their concrete psychological equivalents, heresy and schism would have been less frequent. It was, however, almost impossible for them to do so, because in their day theology was far more highly developed than psychology. Systematic observation of the workings of spirit was almost unknown. There existed no science of psychology as we know it. No clear notions attached to the terms "person" and "nature." They represented abstractions necessary to discursive reason rather than concrete psychic facts. All parties shared this defect. Among catholics and Nestorians as well as among monophysites knowledge of the constituents of human nature was of the most rudimentary character. The catholic party, however, by keeping close to the facts recorded in the gospels, achieved a Christological formula that is psychologically intelligible; while the heretical parties were led by their preconceived opinions to fashion a Christ, whose features are unrecognisable as God or man, a psychological monstrosity. BERGSON'S THEORIES THROW LIGHT ON CHRISTOLOGY Without claiming finality for the findings of modern psychology, we can consider some results of the science as established. They are sufficiently well established, at any rate, to provide a starting-point for our investigation. In particular the brilliant observations and theories of M. Bergson throw, so it seems to the writer, a flood of light on Christology. We propose to outline the two key doctrines of the Bergsonian psychology and show how they confirm the truth of the orthodox formula and expose the monophysite fallacy. These key doctrines are, first, the interpenetration of psychic states, and, second, the distinction between deep-seated and superficial consciousness. BERGSON'S THEORY OF THE INTERPENETRATION OF PSYCHIC STATES It is, says Bergson, characteristic of psychic states that they do not, like material things remain external to one another. They inter-penetrate. Cut up by human intelligence into discrete elements, in their own nature they remain a continuum. States of mind appear successive and external to one another, because age-long association with matter has accustomed men to material modes of thought. Man's intelligence is a by-product of activity. For purposes of action it is the externality of things that matters. The inner connection is relatively unimportant. Men act with precision on matter, because perception cuts up the continuum of matter into bodies, defined bodies no two of which can occupy the same space. Intelligence originating thus by contact with matter naturally prefers mechanical categories. These categories applicable to matter when applied to higher forms of existence mislead. We naturally conceive psychic states as external to one another, and their interpenetration seems an abnormality. At this stage of thought experience is pictured as a line of indefinite length, infinitely divisible, whose divisions correspond to the moments of consciousness. This spatial picture of mind is misleading in many ways, not the least in that it can offer no reasonable theory of the subconscious. Thinkers who materialise mental experience have no room in their theory for the sub-conscious. It is for them bare non-consciousness, a psychic vacuum. When, however, we start from this unique characteristic, that mind possesses, of remaining one and indivisible throughout the greatest appearance of diversity, the sub-conscious falls naturally into the scheme. No part of our experience perishes. It is essentially self-perpetuating memory. The needs of action relegate the greater portion of it to the sub-conscious, but it is there, always linked to our conscious experience, and only awaiting the occasion to emerge into the full light of consciousness. Past penetrates into the present. One portion of our present penetrates into the other portions. Conscious and unconscious, past and present, combine to form one wonderful whole. MONOPHYSITISM IGNORES THE DUALITY IN CHRIST'S EXPERIENCE Such in outline is Bergson's theory of the interpenetration of psychic states. If this psychology be adopted, the abstract character of the catholic doctrine of Christ's being in large measure disappears. It becomes easy to conceive the interpenetration of two natures in one Christ. Further, the Bergsonian psychology furnishes a standpoint from which criticism of monophysitism is easy. Psychology at the monophysite stage of thought conceives the moments of Christ's consciousness in their mutual externality; they follow each other as do the ticks of a clock. They are discrete elements strung along on a hypothetical ego. Christ's experience is conceived as unilinear. All that He did, suffered and thought is regarded as having taken place on one and the same plane of experience. This psychology has no room for another plane of experience. It has no room for a positive sub-consciousness. Consequently that one plane must be the one divine nature, which, as the monophysites taught, absorbed the human. The one-nature theory is not true to the facts. It overlooks the complexity of Christ's experience. His experiences lie on two different planes. He has different universes of thought, different actuating wills and sets of feelings. Christ is not in one nature. The phases of His consciousness are twofold. His experiences fall naturally into two groups. While one group is in consciousness, the other is below the level of consciousness. Now the human experiences, now the divine, are uppermost. Both are always present. Life under such conditions is inconceivable, unless full recognition be accorded to the fact that conscious states interpermeate. If each state fall outside the other, and consciousness be a chain of successive ideas or emotions, a twofold nature within the one experience is meaningless. The view of conscious states as discrete leads inevitably to determinism. The place of one state in the chain is conditioned by its predecessor. There is no room for the spontaneity and the creative power which characterise conscious life. Associationism cannot countenance the unforeseen and incalculable. So it is out of sympathy with Christian psychology. A function of the divine in Christ is to introduce the element of the unforeseen and incalculable into His normal and human experience. The Bergsonian psychology thus supplies an intellectual basis for belief in the possibility of two natures in Christ. When ideas are regarded as psychic entities whose essential property is mutual penetration, the ground is prepared for the catholic formula. Where this truth is not recognised, there arises inevitably the tendency to assert that Christ had and must have had but one uniform level of experience, and that assertion is the essence of monophysitism. BERGSON'S THEORY OF DEEP-SEATED AND SUPERFICIAL STATES Bergson's psychology throws further light on a central doctrine of catholic Christology. It not only makes conceivable, as we have shown above, the co-existence of the two natures, but it lends support to the belief in the independent reality of His personality. Person and nature of Christology find their modern equivalents in the Bergsonian "deep-seated" and "superficial" states of consciousness. Bergson draws a sharp line of distinction between these two. The deep-seated states constitute the kernel of being. They are the man's existence turned inwards. They are independent, free, creative. They are a unifying force. Always present, they only rarely make their presence felt. Only at moments of deep experience do they interfere with the surface self. The superficial states form the outward-regarding existence of man. They represent consciousness relaxed into moments of clock-time, moments more or less external to one another. They are not truly free. They are conditioned by the material environment. Whatever be thought of the metaphysic of this system, recognition cannot be refused to that part of it which rests on the solid foundation of psychological fact. Self-analysis discloses a two-fold experience in man. The stream of his life contains both current and undercurrent. The current is nature, the under-current personality. MONOPHYSITISM ANNULS THE DISTINCTION BETWEEN DIVINE PERSON AND DIVINE NATURE This distinction is of paramount importance in Christology. Diphysites hold fast to the distinction. They maintain a human nature in Christ, but they do not humanise His person. The person cannot be humanised. It remained divine after the incarnation, as it was before. Though He became man, the depth of His being was unchanged. The rain from heaven and the waters from the earthly spring mingle in one stream, but beneath the surface the deep undercurrent of being flows on unchanged. The monophysite in effect abandons this distinction. This is where his psychology is most seriously at fault. He confuses person and nature. Deep-seated and superficial states of soul are all one to him. He does not see the duality in the being of his fellow-men; so he cannot see it in the ideal man. This is a consequence of monophysitism which has not attracted the attention of theologians, and which the monophysite himself did not intend. The doctrine that rules out the human nature of Christ rules out the divine nature also, by confusing it with the personality. The monophysite affirms the divine nature while denying the human. Such affirmation is purely verbal. It is completely void of significance. The contrast between the divine and human natures is needed to throw personality into relief. Take away the human nature, and that contrast disappears, and with it goes the distinction between divine person and divine nature. Then, instead of a transcendent personality in whose portrait divine and human features are distinctly limned, we have a blur. Where God planned a unique though intelligible psychic harmony, we find a psychic medley. CONSCIOUSNESS OF PERSONALITY PRODUCED BY A VIOLENT CHANGE OF OCCUPATION This assertion is justified by an appeal to human experience. Men become sure of their own or of other people's personality by experiencing strong contrasts of natures in themselves or by observing them in others. For instance, a sudden and violent change of occupation establishes personality as a distinct entity. The civilian turns soldier. Almost immediately all parts of his nature are affected. He feels the development, as it were, of a second nature within him. His faculties are transformed. He enters a new universe of thought. His range of knowledge narrows in one direction, widens in another. His volitional nature is altered. His will narrows in scope, but increases in intensity. Nor does his emotional nature escape the change. Aesthetic values are reversed. He no longer feels pleasure and pain at the old objects. Physical desires play a much larger part in his life, and he loses taste for intellectual pleasures. The soldier returns to civilian life and, as it were, with his civilian attire he resumes his former nature, and all his old thoughts and feelings and impulses come flooding back. Such an experience is of considerable psychological interest. It exemplifies the interpenetration of different states of thought and activity. The contrasts bring home to a man the fact that his spirit is a synthesis of heterogeneous elements. They force him back on himself. They rouse in him the dormant sense of personal being. It is the apprehension of strong contrast in his experience of himself, the apprehension of the plurality of his being, that accentuates the deep-lying unity. The more violent the change in the walks of life, the clearer becomes the concept of the continuity. Civilian or soldier, the man, the person is the same. Personality is thrown into relief not only by change of occupation, but also by moral contrasts. Conflicting passions, opposing motives and internal debate serve to make a man realise himself. Strong personalities are often those in whom the conflict between good and evil is most acute. It is the very opposition of natures which brings out the personal element into the full light of conscious recognition. We must now examine human personality in greater detail; we must indicate its functions and show how it differs from human nature. Only by coming to grips with this psychological problem is it possible to appreciate the points at issue in the Christological question and to judge between catholic and monophysite. KANT AND THE DUAL CHARACTER OF THE EGO Kant distinguished the noumenal from the phenomenal ego. The former he regarded as an idea, the latter as a reality in time. The distinction corresponds roughly to that between person and nature. The phenomenal ego is the nature of man. It bears the brunt of the struggle of life. The noumenal ego is the transcendent personality of the individual--an idea which pure reason necessarily forms and which practical reason establishes. Though the Kantian philosophy no longer carries conviction, it is interesting to see that Kant felt and admitted a double current in man's being. He recognised that the superficial self is not the true being of the man. It is not necessary, however, to go as far as Kant went. We need not with him relegate the core of personal being to the realm of idea. Granted that personality is not part of our normal experience as nature is, there are times when the depths of being are stirred. Moments of crisis drive a man deeper than will and thought and even feeling, and make him conscious of himself as a psychic unity, permanent and of infinite value. Personality normally remains in the recesses of the subconscious. It is the hidden basis of life. It is active, though its activities are for the most part underground. It does not, however, lie altogether outside the ken of consciousness. It may be experienced; it is experienced when great emotion rends the surface fabric of the man and discloses the true self. HUMAN PERSONALITY AND HUMAN NATURE What is human personality? It is a psychic entity whose most important function is to unify the parts of a man's nature. It is the principle of unity and the instrument of unity. A man's thought, will and feeling are distinct and real entities. His intelligence takes various forms from perception to abstract thought; it may be directed to outward things, to thoughts of things, or to pure idea. He wills many things, and wills them in different modes and with varying degrees of intensity. A wide range of feeling is found in him, from physical to mental, from organic to ideal feeling. His nature is tripartite. Each part admits of variation in itself and in its interaction with the other parts. Each of the three expresses the man at the moment. No one of the three gives the whole account of his being. Nor do the three taken together. Though his nature is tripartite the man himself cannot be resolved into component parts. He has his faculties and states, but he is more than their sum. He may lose himself in thought or activity, or abandon himself to feeling, but when he is fulfilling his true function, when he is most himself, all parts of his nature are concentrated to a point. Partial activity of thought, will, or feeling is then replaced by activity of the personality. Personality is the synthetic unity of all parts of a man's nature. It has the wonderful power of compressing to a point a medley of psychic elements. Moods and memories, perceptions and ideas, wishes and purposes, it tensions them all up, merges them and expresses them in characteristic acts representative of the man. Personality differs from nature also in respect of relation to environment. It is relatively independent of circumstances. Habit and education mould the nature, but if they touch the person they do so only indirectly. The nature must be deeply affected before a change in the person is registered. Personality is not synonomous with inherited disposition; but it bears a similar relation to nature as inherited disposition does to acquired habit. It is to nature what character is to action. It is to nature what in Weismann's theory the germ plasm is to the somatic cell. Changes in it are mediated by nature and are almost imperceptible in a life time. Again, nature is the superficies of the soul. It is the part that comes in contact with the world of things and people. A man's nature is what he is for other people; what he is in and for himself alone is personality. There is a substance or self-existence of the psychic states. Thought, will and feeling have all and each an external reference. The internal reference of the whole is the core of being. Our perception of personality in other people is a subtle thing. In the ordinary give and take of life we are not aware of it. It is when we realise the subject as a self-existent unity that we recognise personality. We judge a man's nature by his thought or will or feelings as conveyed through the ordinary channels of communication. Personality is felt. It is a magnetism that influences, but remains inarticulate. Person and nature differ also in respect of relation to the body. The co-existence of heterogeneous natures in the same body is a fact of experience. Different universes of thought, different levels of will and feeling can be lodged in one organism. The higher the development of the individual, the more clearly marked is the duality or plurality of nature. It is otherwise with personality. In normal cases no two personalities can tenant the one body. The unity of the organism is the outward expression and guarantee of the unity of the person. There are of course pathological cases which form exceptions to this rule. Such cases, however, only serve to emphasise the distinction between person and nature. In cases of dual personality the occupancy of the one body is not simultaneous. Jekyll alternates with Hyde. Dual personality is a totally different phenomenon from duality of nature. Duality of nature is relatively superficial. In dual personality the divergence in mental and moral outlook is so radical that responsibility for the acts of the one entity cannot attach to the other entity. Personality then is the synthetic principle in man's being. Psychology reveals it as unifying the parts of a man's soul and welding into an indivisible whole the various elements of conscious and subconscious experience. The student of Christology welcomes this account of personality, but he requires more. He seeks a parallel for the union of two whole and perfect natures. He demands some reason for holding the central dogma of the incarnation to be intelligible and probable. The next step in the argument accordingly is to ask, "Why limit the synthetic power of personality?" If personality can synthesise parts of a nature, why should it not also synthesise natures? If human personality can unify such heterogeneous psychic elements as thought, will and feeling, and present them as a harmonious whole, is it not credible that divine personality should carry the synthesis a step further and harmonise in one being the thoughts, wills and feelings of God and man? The hypostatic union of natures in Christ is a phenomenon not psychologically improbable, and one which can be paralleled from human experience. There is in man what is tantamount to a conjunction of the two natures. Man is rather diphysite than monophysite. We pointed out above the extensive modifications that can be produced in a man's nature by environment. There is in him a deeper duality which we can only characterise as an association of divine and human. Man is an inhabitant of the earth, of earthly descent and finite destiny; yet the divine is not totally foreign to him. He has hopes of heaven, moments of supraconsciousness, at times vision, resolve and emotion that are supra-normal. The divine is an element in him. It is more than an aspect of his nature. Its influence operates often in opposition to the human element. He is, as Bergson puts it, at the meeting-point of the upward and the downward currents. He can know God, can do the will of God, can be filled with the love of God. Here are the three factors of his nature, raised to a higher power. His experience may lie and often does lie on two planes. He is "double lived in regions new." In applying this human analogy to the ideal man caution is necessary. The duality of natures is a fact in both cases, but there is one essential difference. The personal substratum of the natures in one case is human, in the other case divine. In man the divine element is part of his nature, but not part of his person. The ego remains human through all spiritual development. "The best of saints is a saint at the best." The secondary element in him is a fact, but it is part of his nature, not of his person. It is otherwise in the case of Christ. He came from the ideal world and returned there. The background of his experience was and is divine. The secondary element in Him was the human, the primary the divine. He shared man's experience and shared it really, but it did not form part of the core of His being. When He thought or willed or felt as a man, it was a _kénôsis_, a limiting of his natural mode of self-expression. Divine and human are both present in the experience of Christ and of mankind, but with this difference--man rises to the divine; Christ condescended to the human. VALUE OF BERGSON'S PSYCHOLOGY TO ORTHODOX CHRISTOLOGY Person and nature are then real and distinct psychic entities. They are real alike in God and man. The distinction between them is not artificial or verbal; it is perhaps elusive, but it is genuine and capable of proof from experience. The synthetic faculty of personality manifests itself in uniting without confusing, first, parts of the nature, second, entire natures. These theses supply what is requisite for an intelligent appreciation of Christology. Without them Christology is a battle of shadows; with them it becomes a practical problem of first importance for religious minds. The psychology which justifies orthodox Christology is that which proclaims the interpenetration of psychic states, and which distinguishes between the surface states of a relaxed consciousness, and the deep-seated states which are ever present, but of which we are conscious only at moments of tension. The catholic mind conceives the person of Christ as an eternal self-existent synthetic unity that has combined in an indissoluble union the natures of God and man. Human parallels make intelligible the co-existence of the two natures in the one person and the one body. What is normal in man is surely possible in the ideal man. Heretical Christologies err in their psychology. In Nestorian Christology Christ is presented as a dual personality, an abnormal association in one body of two distinct self-existent beings. Thus a pathological case would be elevated to the rank of mankind's ideal. The monophysite psychology plunges men into the opposite error. An undiscriminating craving for unity among the phenomena of psychic life prevents any recognition of the dual character of experience. Monophysitism is blind to the difference between person and nature because it places all psychic experiences on the one level. Determined to find unity in its ideal, it seeks an inappropriate unity, the mathematical unity, the unity that excludes plurality. To the monophysite the major part of the gospels is a sealed book, because the major part of the facts there recorded about Christ could not possibly have happened to a one-natured Christ. His human knowledge, normal, limited, progressive, His human will, natural, adequate to the human, inadequate to the superhuman task, his human feelings, his body consubstantial with ours are to the monophysite merely shadows or symbols or aspects of something greater. They are dwarfed into nothingness. They are lost in the divine omniscience, omnipotence and transcendent love. CHAPTER VI MONOPHYSITISM IN THE PRESENT DAY "To believe rightly the incarnation of our Lord Jesus Christ" is an ideal that the thoughtful Christian strives to attain. He expects to find the solution of high moral and speculative problems in that union of divine and human. The right faith is not easily reached. It is an elusive prize. There are conditions moral and intellectual attaching to its possession. The moral conditions may take a lifetime to fulfil. Even on its intellectual side faith is a long process. No sudden mental grasp of the whole truth can be attained. It dawns on the mind gradually. The discipline of faith in the incarnation consists in a gradual and laborious advance from stage to stage. The various stages are half-truths or inadequate conceptions of Christ. They are objectified in the Christological heresies. These heresies arrange themselves in a sequence so strict and so logical that one could almost say that they are deducible _a priori_ from the concept "divine-human." Certainly the subjective fancies of the heresiarchs do not provide the whole account. There is something of the universal in these heresies. They are in the main current of religious thought. As the chief historic systems of philosophy repeat themselves in each generation and in the intellectual development of individual thinkers, so do the Christological heresies recur. There is considerable truth in Hegel's contentions that the development of a man's mind is one with that of the general consciousness, that the individual reason is a miniature of the universal reason, that in fact the history of a philosopher's thinking is an abstract of the history of philosophy. The same holds good in the field of religious thought. Without much artificiality, without forcing the facts, a rational scheme of the Christological heresies might be drawn up. They might be pictorially represented as the rungs of a ladder, which the truth-seeking mind scales rung by rung, pausing at the lower phases of Christological thought, and then resuming the ascent till the highest truth is attained. The instrument of thought is much the same in all centuries; the objects of thought vary very little; so it is intelligible that the products of speculative and religious thought should remain the same to-day as in the fifth century. THE EXISTENCE OF MODERN MONOPHYSITISM Is there such a thing as modern monophysitism? To this question the preceding paragraph supplies the answer, "There must be." Heretical tendencies will be found in the Christian community in every generation, and the religious thought of individual Christians will pass through heretical phases. Such heresy is rather an intellectual than a moral fault; but the possibility of being the heirs, without knowing it, of the opinions of Nestorius and Eutyches throws on thinkers to-day the responsibility of examining their Christological beliefs and of testing them by the canon of orthodoxy. Not a few leaders of religious thought, in intention orthodox, in fact remain monophysites, through inability to analyse their beliefs or through a false sense of security, founded on the opinion that the age of heresy is past. It is commonly supposed that belief in the deity of Christ constitutes Christianity. That supposition is wrong. Arius was not the only heresiarch. To transcend the Arian standpoint is only the first step in the long discipline of faith. There are other heresies, other half-truths scarcely less pernicious than the Arian. The recognition of Christ as God represents a great intellectual and moral advance, and is the first essential step in religion; but to rest content with the taking of that step is to remain on the lowest rung of the ladder of faith. It is little use to form a lofty conception of Christ, if in doing so we insulate Him from the world of things and souls. That is what monophysitism does, and because disguised monophysitism is prevalent in the church to-day, Christianity's grip is weak and the fire of devotion low. We may picture faith as a battlefield. Doubt is the enemy entrenched in depth. Arianism holds the first line of trenches. Echeloned behind Arianism are the other heresies in a network of fortified redoubts, strong points and support trenches. The church militant must make the furthest line her objective. If her advance stays at an intermediate point, she is exposed to cross-fire from the support trenches of the subsidiary heresies. The ground gained by the first assault proves untenable. The position won can only be secured by pushing home the attack to the final objective and consolidating her line there in the might of full catholic doctrine. A thorough and systematic advance of this sort was made by the orthodox Christologians of the fifth century. The campaign was fought and won then. It has, however, to be fought anew in each generation and in the experience of individual thinkers. Monophysitism is commonly regarded as a vagary of oriental thought, killed once and for all by a church council in the fifth century. That is a superficial view. Monophysitism is a hydra growth, and no Hercules can be found to exterminate it. It reappears in each succeeding age, in West as well as East. The structure of the human intellect is such that, whenever men begin to investigate the being of Christ, the tendency to regard Him as one-natured is present. The church of the fifth century exposed that doctrine; it was beyond her power to kill it. REASONS FOR THE PREVALENCE OF MONOPHYSITISM Monophysitism is in our midst undetected to-day. It is not hard to account for its prevalence. The clergy are for the most part unable to expound Christology, and the laity are impatient of exposition. Anything savouring of precise theology is at a discount. So pulpit and pew conspire to foster the growth of the tares. The "Athanasian" creed is in disrepute, and its statement of dogmatic Christology is involved in the discredit attaching to the damnatory clauses. The clergy are perhaps rather glad to leave the subject alone. They know it is a difficult subject, and they are afraid of burning their fingers. The laity rarely hear any reference to the two natures of Christ. If they do, they are not interested; they do not think that the question makes any difference to faith or practice. The whole extent of the Christological knowledge possessed by the average churchman is comprised in the formula, "Christ is God and man." He cannot apply the formula nor reconcile it with common sense. He occasionally hears from the pulpit the phrase "God-man"; but it is a mere phrase to him; it is not translated for him into a language that he can understand. So he registers the doctrine mentally as an impenetrable mystery and gives it no further attention, or perhaps turns away in disgust from the system whose central figure is so unintelligibly presented by its authorised exponents. The bare statement that Christ is God and man, though true, is not adequate. It carries no conviction to thinking minds to-day. The full definition of the council of Chalcedon should be published broadcast, and so studied by theologians in the light of modern psychology that they can present it as a reasonable dogma, intelligible to-day and touching modern life. In the absence of such teaching the spread of false, unbalanced or inadequate conceptions of what Christ was and of what He is is inevitable. Our concern here is to exhibit those of a monophysite character. Monophysite tendencies of the present day may be grouped according as they affect Christ's being or His work or Christian practice. We propose to take them in that order. MODERN PRESENTATIONS OF CHRIST ESOTERIC AND DEFICIENT IN PERSONAL APPEAL Monophysitism in respect of Christ's being shows itself to-day in negative rather than positive ways. To its subtle influence is traceable the capital defect of modern presentations of Christ, namely, that they make no appeal to the outsider. Christ is proclaimed as the solution of moral, social and industrial problems. As a rule in such cases the name "Christ" is used as a synonym for Christian principles. Such appeals are addressed to the head; they do not touch the heart and fire the imagination; they do not kindle that personal devotion to the Man Christ Jesus which has always been the dynamic of the faith. The historic Christ is not presented in a way that would appeal to the unconvinced. Christian teaching is becoming more and more esoteric. In the language of Christology, a diphysite Christ is not preached. His human nature is kept in the background. It is not portrayed in arresting colours. If the apostles and apostolic men had preached the impersonal redeemer of modern religious thought, they would never have won the world for Christ. Their imaginations and lives were fired by contact with a Man of flesh and blood. So they presented a Christ whose true humanity appealed to His fellow-men. They showed the gospel picture to an unbelieving world, and the world responded to its appeal. It is not easy to bridge the centuries and regain the apostles' standpoint, but until it is done the church's message will lack inspiration. The phrase "the historic Christ" is commonly used, as if it covered the whole ground. It is certainly serviceable as a protest against a bare logos theory of the incarnation, but in itself it is not adequate. What requires emphasis is the humanity of the historic Christ. Many Christian teachers purposely withhold this emphasis from fear of playing into the hands of Arians and Nestorians. No doubt if pressed they would give intellectual assent to the dogma of the two natures, but they shrink from following it out to its consequences. There is a widespread feeling that it is irreverent to dwell on the fact that Christ was a real man. A firm grasp of catholic Christology in its entirety is the cure for this squeamishness. To obscure the fact of His Manhood is not the true reply to a denial of His Deity. A true presentation of Christ must give full weight to the facts that He had a human body, human mind, human feelings and human will, that His body was in space normally subject to physical law, that His consciousness and subconsciousness conformed to psychic law. Wherever a denial of these facts is found, there is monophysitism. Wherever they are obscured or neglected, there are monophysite tendencies. INDIFFERENCE TO CHRIST'S SUFFERINGS--A CLASSICAL COMPARISON Failure to appreciate the real humanity of Christ's life results in comparative indifference to the tragedy of His death. Monophysitism in undermining belief in the reality of Christ's manhood is weakening sympathy with His sufferings. Calvary like Bethlehem has lost much of its appeal. A classical comparison will illustrate this fact. Plato's account of Socrates' last hour in the prison and of his drinking the hemlock is, I imagine, to many educated men far more moving than the story of the Passion and Death of Christ. There is a curious similarity in the two tragedies that invites attention and comparison. Both sufferers were heroes and moral reformers, the victims of mistaken zeal on the part of religious authority. Socrates died in a ripe age with his life work accomplished. Jesus was cut off in His prime. Socrates' last hours were tranquil and his passing quick and easy. Jesus after shame and torture died a lingering death. The dysthanasia of Jesus should, one would opine, make a stronger appeal to men's sympathies than does the euthanasia of Socrates. Yet on the whole the reverse is the case. The difference in the respective styles of the two narratives does not give the whole explanation. It is true that the Phaedo is a work of fine art while the gospel story is a plain statement of fact. The reason, however, for the difference in appeal goes deeper than literary style. The reader of the Phaedo puts himself into the place of Socrates and suffers with him. As we read the Passion of Christ there rises a barrier between us and the divine sufferer. Unconsciously we say to ourselves, "Christ suffered, of course, but He did not suffer as we should have suffered in His place. His were not the real sufferings of a real man." If the passion of Christ and that of Socrates were weighed in the same balances, there would be less indifference to-day to the gospel story. Were Christ the Man realised as such, visualised, as other great men of history are visualised, among his followers, the hero worship that inspired the early church would revive. What makes Christians indifferent to Christ's sufferings is not the lapse of centuries nor weakness of imagination but a subconscious monophysitism. There is to most minds a haze of unreality overhanging the accounts of His life and death. They forget that He shared human experience to the full. They think of Him as doing things _rhêidíôs_ like the Homeric gods. In point of fact, His great results were achieved only after long laborious exertion. His was a life of strenuous human activity, physical and mental. Even His miracles were accompanied by a physical throb of sympathy; virtue went out of Him. Redemption made it necessary. Enthusiastic devotion to a person must be grounded in community of experience. It is the human touches in the drama of Christ's life that make the most powerful appeal to mankind. Yet the human element is obscured, as a rule, in modern presentations of the gospel. For spiritual minds it is comparatively easy to apprehend a divine Christ. To apprehend a human Christ makes a larger call on their imagination and their sympathy. Spiritual men are naturally monophysite in their thinking. They shrink from the mental effort that diphysitism demands. Their attention is focussed on Christ's superiority to human limitations. They scarcely see the miracle of the human, and thus they miss the import of the divine miracle. In the atmosphere of monophysitism mysticism thrives, but devotion decays. We may instance the almost total disappearance of the crusading spirit. The Christ to whom our thoughts usually turn is an omnipresent ideal with no historical or local associations. His birth-place and His country evoke only a lukewarm sentiment. The church's year is neglected. The historical facts of Christ's life are often regarded as of only minor importance. Piety used to consist in personal loyalty to the Founder of a universal religion; it is now considered synonymous with obedience to the "golden rule." TO ATTRIBUTE OMNISCIENCE TO CHRIST'S HUMAN NATURE IS MONOPHYSITISM Within recent times the question as to the limitation of Christ's knowledge was hotly debated. That debate showed how much uncertainty on Christological questions exists and how strong monophysite opinion still is. In spite of Christ's own _dicta_, in spite of the dogma of two natures, denial of the limitation was widespread and persistent. To many devout minds it seems impious to speak of Christ's ignorance. This is a case in which the Chalcedonian definition is an invaluable guide. If one brings to an examination of Christ's nature the preconceived notion of His omniscience, the doctrine of the limitation of His knowledge seems an outrage on belief; but if one approaches the question with the orthodox formula in mind, one is prepared to find that His cognitive faculties were perfectly human and humanly perfect. So we find it. His knowledge and His faculties of knowledge on the lower plane of His experience were essentially the same as ours. He thought in our categories. He used our organon, perfect of its kind, but still a human organon. As man, inevitably, He had thoughts uncognised; and such a mental state we call "ignorance." His mind passed through stages of development as ours does. Education widened His horizon, strengthened His faculties, and increased His knowledge. Advance in knowledge implies a prior state of relative ignorance. The word "ignorance" as applied to Christ sounds very terrible; but investigation of its meaning robs it of its terrors. We use the word in two senses. On the one hand it may mean the absence of a thought, its absolute non-presence in consciousness. On the other it may mean thought unrelated to experience, one whose implications are not or cannot be fully deduced, in fact, the incomplete cognition of an idea. In neither case does it involve imperfection in the instrument or moral fault. On the contrary ignorance is a mark of the normal in cognition. If ignorance and limitation of knowledge were not found in Christ, we should be forced to agree with Apollinaris that the divine Logos had superseded His human intellect. Ignorance in so far as it is a positive attribute is far from being a mark of imperfection. It is a true paradox that ignorance like obliviscence forms part of the process of human cognising. Probably in the truth of things memory is of the essence of mind. Thoughts naturally and spontaneously reproduce themselves. The past of experience tends automatically to carry forward into the present. The function of the brain then, or of a mental faculty intimately co-operating with the brain is to discriminate, to sift and select, to prolong into present consciousness what is of importance for action and to relegate the irrelevant to partial or total oblivion. From this psychological standpoint ignorance and obliviscence are seen to be achievements of the intellect. The presence of all facts in a human consciousness is unthinkable. If it were possible, it would paralyse action. If we exempt Christ from the law of ignorance and obliviscence, we _ipso facto_ dehumanise his cognition. When we say that Jesus was ignorant of much scientific truth, or that his prescience was limited, we do not compromise His dignity. We simply assert the naturalness of His intellect and the true humanity of that element of His nature. To do otherwise, to claim omniscience for His human intellect is gross monophysitism. His knowledge was deeper, surer, more penetrating than ours, because the light of His divine intuition streamed through the veil of sense and illumined the lower phases of intelligence. This is an instance of the _communicatio idiomatum_. The properties of the two natures act and react upon one another. But we must make the distinction of natures our starting-point, or fusion will take place. There must be _idiomata_ first, or the _communicatio_ is meaningless. THE PRESENT EXISTENCE OF CHRIST'S HUMAN NATURE The view taken of the Christ of the past necessarily affects belief in the Christ of the present. It is scarcely possible to realise the present existence of a human Christ, unless the fact of His actual human existence in the first century of our era be grasped. If He had but one nature on earth, He has but one nature now in heaven. If the historic Christ was monophysite, so also is the Christ to whom we pray. In this consequence consists the seriousness of modern monophysitism. The present reality of His human nature is to-day even among His followers doubted, obscured, or forgotten. Christ is to many spiritual minds merely an ideal personality, a summary of their own ethical ideals. They perhaps regard Him as a disembodied spirit or mysterious influence. They rarely attain the catholic standpoint and see the human nature as a psychic entity actually existent to-day. At any rate the doctrine is not thought out to its consequences. The "perpetual intercession" is, it is feared, little more than a phrase. That Christ as man still intercedes for men is a verity not understood and only half appreciated. Yet the official doctrine of orthodoxy teaches that there is a full and true continuity of existence between the Christ of Galilee and the Christ to whom we pray. The Church teaches that there is somewhere, in some transcendent form of existence, a being with perfect human mind, whose will in strength and scope is perfectly proportioned to His knowledge, whose feelings are in perfect mutual harmony, whose psychic nature finds outward expression in a glorified body; that this perfect being once walked this earth, and yet had and has the ground of His being in a divine personality. Such a Christ the latent monophysitism of our thinking hides from our view. THE DOCTRINE OF SUBJECTIVE REDEMPTION DUE TO MONOPHYSITISM The doctrines of Christ's person and of His work are intimately associated. What He did depended on what He was. Christology and Soteriology act and react upon each other. If Christology is crippled, Soteriology goes lame. Christ takes His stand in the centre of the cosmic process in virtue of His unique being. In that He unites deity and humanity in His own person, He brought redemption within the reach of mankind. His redemption of humanity was as definite a fact as His assumption of human nature. Both to the Christian are objective historical facts; if either of them falls to the ground, so does the other; and with that collapse goes the purpose of creation and humanity's hope. A docetic interpretation of the human nature entails a docetic view of redemption. Monophysitism, as we have seen, casts doubts upon the reality of the sufferings and humanity of Christ; in so doing it compromises the work He accomplished. Atonement ceases to be a cosmic transaction completed on Calvary, and becomes a subjective process. Redemption is made into an attitude, or rather a change of attitude, on the part of the individual. That Christ wrought a power and hope for man which man could not achieve for himself is not a familiar doctrine to-day. Pain, not sin, is the great modern problem. The Cross is made to stand for sympathy, not for satisfaction. Salvation, achieved at a definite moment of history and conferred on believers of subsequent generations, rests for its foundations on the objective assumption of human nature by a divine person. If the foundations be undermined, as monophysitism undermines them, the superstructure crumbles. Redemption becomes improvement by effort and self-help, or a constant endeavour after a private ideal of conduct. MONOPHYSITISM LIMITS THE SCOPE OF REDEMPTION Monophysitism shows itself also in the modern tendency to narrow the scope of redemption. Partial salvation is offered as a substitute for the salvation of the entire man. This tendency is a natural result of narrowing the import of the incarnation. It runs counter to orthodox Christology and the derivate doctrines. A divine economy is traceable in God's dealings with men; there is nothing purposeless, nothing otiose in God's dispensation. The Church's invariable answer to the Apollinarians was grounded in belief in this economy. She argued that Christ could not redeem what He did not assume, and, conversely, that what He assumed He redeemed. He assumed human nature in its entirety, thought, will, feeling and body; therefore not one of those elements of human nature lies outside the scope of redemption. Monophysitism excludes some or all of those elements from the being of the incarnate Christ, and by so doing deprives the corresponding elements in man's nature of their rightful share in the benefit of redemption. The feeling that some parts of human nature are more fitted to survive than others is wide-spread to-day. It is found within as well as without the Church. We constantly read of the "survival factor." The term implies the belief that at death part of the man's nature survives and part perishes. There is, however, no general agreement as to which part constitutes the "survival factor." The intellectualist pins his faith to the immortality of the reason. He is content to let death deprive him of everything except the logical faculty. For the aesthete beauty alone is eternal, and his hope for the future lies in the continuance of his aesthetic sense. The materialist sees permanence only in the indestructibility of the ultimate physical constituents of his body. The epigenesis of a spiritual body lies outside his horizon. The volitionist finds all the value of life in the moral nature. For him the good will persists when all else is resolved into nothingness. Character alone, he says, survives the shock of death. All these limited views of survival are symptoms of monophysite ways of thinking. The Christian, on the contrary, holds that what is redeemed _eo ipso_ survives. Whatever else is involved in redemption persistence certainly is included. Monophysitism stands for a partial redemption; but to the orthodox who believe that Christ assumed human nature in its entirety, each part and the whole are of infinite value. He holds that the strengthening, purifying, and perfecting that salvation brings apply to the psychic and the physical natures, that no part is exempt, that neither intellect nor will nor feeling ceases with death, that the range of reason will be increased, and its operation made more sure, that lofty and sustained endeavour will replace the transient energy of the earthly will, that feeling will be enhanced, harmonised, and purified, that a spiritual body continuous with the body of the flesh will express man's heavenly experience. These high far-reaching hopes rest on the doctrines of catholic Christology. Christ assumed our nature complete in body and psychic parts. He did so with a purpose, and that purpose could be none other than the redemption of the body and of all the psychic elements. To the mystic, body and human activities may seem only transient and unworthy of a place in heaven. Such is false spirituality. It is contrary to the tenor of catholic teaching. The incarnation brought divine and human together on earth. The resurrection fixed their union. The ascension gave humanity an eternal place among eternal things. MONOPHYSITISM SHOWN IN THE MODERN TENDENCY TO MAKE THE DEATH OF CHRIST A SECONDARY FACTOR IN THE SCHEME OF REDEMPTION We have seen above that monophysitism discredits the reality of Christ's sufferings. Dogmatic reasons apart, the monophysite is motived by a repugnance to physical pain and by a wish to exclude it from the experience of the human ideal. To this motive we can trace the modern tendency to transfer the doctrinal centre of gravity from the Passion to the incarnation. The Passion and Death used to occupy the first place in the thoughts of Christians and formed the foundation for all theories of atonement. The incarnation was regarded as, for the purposes of dogma, subsidiary. Within recent times the position has been reversed. The main stress falls now on the incarnation. The Passion seems of secondary importance, if, as modern theology often teaches, all purposes of redemption were secured prior to it. In thus changing the venue of redemption modern theology is wrong. The mistake is prompted largely, so it seems to the writer, by monophysitism latent in modern religious thought; at any rate strict adherence to the catholic doctrine of two natures would have prevented it. The human nature that Christ assumed had to be perfected through suffering; otherwise it could not attain that universality and representative character which enabled it to become the medium of universal salvation. If it had been enough for the divine spirit to mingle with men, to show them a pattern life, and to touch them to higher things, an apparition would have been adequate, and no community of suffering would have been necessary. Since Christ not only appeared as man, but experienced in His flesh all man's experiences, death which is the climax of human experience fell to His lot and set the seal to the divine enterprise. Since He who died was the flesh and blood embodiment of the cosmic relation. His death has cosmic significance. The doctrinal edifice in which Calvary is of ornamental and not of structural value has monophysitism for its foundation. HISTORICAL CHARACTER OF CHRISTIANITY OBSCURED Christ's mission is misunderstood to-day as well as His cosmic work. In certain religious quarters where zeal is not balanced by learning, His mission as the founder of a religious society is forgotten. To those who are deficient in historic sense the continuity of the Church down the centuries seems unimportant, and institutional religion a hindrance rather than a help to the spiritual life of the individual Christian. Pietism of this kind has always been present in the church; to-day it is prevalent. It nominally associates its piety with the historic Christ, but actually it worships an ideal constructed by its own ethical imagination. Such pietists spiritualise the faith. The facts of the historic creed are to them little more than symbols of religious truth. Spiritual resurrection, spiritual ascension are the only miracles for them. This tendency to spiritualise everything is a phase of monophysitism. It results from losing sight of the person of the historic Christ, and resolving His assumption of human nature into the assumption of a title. CHRISTOLOGY A DETERMINANT OF SACRAMENTAL THOUGHT Errors in sacramental teaching necessarily accompany misconceptions of the person of Christ. The incarnation is a cosmic sacrament, the meeting-point of divine and human, and the sacraments of the church are types of the vaster mystery. In both type and antitype it is all important to give due weight to divine and human, and not to exalt one element at the expense of the other. Those who undervalue the human nature of Christ are disposed to undervalue the outward sign in the sacraments. Not appreciating the hypostatic union of divine with human, they misunderstand the sacramental union of the same elements. Blind to the significance of Christ's humanity in the economy of redemption, they fail to see how matter can be the channel of sacramental grace. Yet the discipline of faith is the same in both cases. The Christian enterprise is not merely to believe in the divine, but to believe in the divine manifested in the human. There are two divergent, almost opposing, schools of sacramental teaching, both of which have inherited the spirit of monophysitism. Both are instances of sacramental monism. First, there are those who identify the outward signs and the inward grace; second, those to whom the inward grace is everything and the outward sign nothing. Both schools of thought destroy the nature of a sacrament. The radical error of both consists in undervaluing the human and material. In the first case the error takes the form of the transubstantiation doctrine, which is exactly parallel to the extreme form of Eutychianism. According to Eutyches, the human nature of Christ was absorbed into the divine and lost there; the truth of His being was the divine personality; the human element was only an appearance. Similarly the transubstantiation theory conceives the mutation of the _substance_ of the material elements and the loss of their proper nature; the appearance of reality that the _accidents_ possess is an illusion of the senses. We may note in passing that the opposite error to transubstantiation finds its Christological parallel in Nestorianism. Socinianism which separates symbol from sacramental grace is sacramental dualism, as Nestorianism is Christological dualism. Both abandon a vital unity of divine and human. The pietistic or mystical view of the sacraments does so too, but in a different way. This second form of sacramental monism has much in common with the doctrine of one nature. To the pietist the divine seems all important, and the material no help, but rather a hindrance to the spiritual life. The faith of the individual to him is the seat of the efficacy of the sacraments; he regards matter as unreal if not sinful, and in either case unworthy to be a channel of divine grace. Echo after echo of monophysite thought can be caught here. The surest way to combat sacramental errors on both sides is a clear and definite statement of the catholic doctrine of Christology. NEED OF A MENTAL RECONSTRUCTION OF THE HUMAN NATURE OF CHRIST As the interval of time widens, separating Christians from the human life of their God, the more urgent becomes the obligation to put forth a constructive effort of the historical imagination. The attempt to keep that memory green grows harder and harder as the centuries pass; but Christians must make it; otherwise the historical character of their religion will perish. There need be no fear that the interests of spiritual religion will suffer. Amongst moderns the danger of idealising the human is greater than that of humanising the divine. An intelligent appreciation of Christ's human life draws out love and kindles reverence towards the divine personality who condescended to the level of mankind. We may point by way of illustration to the effect of biblical criticism. Christians of a previous generation dreaded the touch of criticism. They thought it profanation. They refused to admit any human element in the bible. Criticism, however, had its way. Bibliolatry had to go. The result is that the bible is a living book to us to-day. In spite of the fears of the devout there was little to lose and much to gain by recognising the human element in the bible. As with the written word, so with the living Word. Without a recognition of the human element in His being, a full assimilation of His teaching and an intimate perception of His real presence are unattainable. If this recognition be accorded, the great past will live again in the present. Hostile critics study the life and character of Christ and the records of them with a view to proving that He was merely man. Believers may adopt their method with a different object. They may undertake the same study in order to comprehend the wonder of the Man, and so rise to some conception of the wonder of the God. The gospels are read mainly as a handbook of devotion; they should be studied as the biography of a hero. The face-value of its incidents is often neglected, while the reader seeks allegorical and mystical interpretations. To form a mental picture of Christ in His environment, to read ourselves back into His world and then into His ways of thought, such efforts are more than ever needed to-day, and they are more than ever absent. Historic sense and imagination should be allowed to play upon the recorded acts and sayings of Jesus, until a great temple to His memory rises in the high places of the mind, dominating thence the whole intellectual and moral life. Such an enterprise would infuse life and meaning into the Christological formula, and would effect, so to speak, a reconstruction of the human nature of the historic Christ. The Christian's attitude towards the Man Christ Jesus is the "acid test" of the sincerity of his faith. No one can bring intellectual difficulties to a being to whom cognising was a foreign process, nor moral difficulties to one who knew no conflict of wills, nor sorrows to one "all breathing human passion far above." If we picture the ideal of all mankind as thinking our thoughts, willing as we will, feeling as we feel, we are united to Him by an intellectual, moral and emotional bond of sympathy. Such a threefold cord is not quickly broken. Communion with such a Being leads the worshipper to the heart of the Christian religion. THE END PRINTED BY WILLIAM CLOWES AND SONS, LIMITED, LONDON AND BECCLES. 
30561	----	His Last Week THE STORY OF THE PASSION AND RESURRECTION OF JESUS IN THE WORDS OF THE FOUR GOSPELS PREPARED BY WILLIAM E. BARTON, THEODORE G. SOARES SYDNEY STRONG HOPE PUBLISHING COMPANY CHICAGO PREFACE. ONE HUNDREDTH THOUSAND. The evangelists have devoted one-third of the Gospel record to our Lord's Passion and Resurrection. A comparison of the four narratives clearly indicates the order of events upon the several days of the Holy Week. The devotional reading of the story is a most natural and helpful observance of the Easter season. As an aid to such observance this booklet has been prepared. It is the story, day by day, of the last week in our Lord's earthly life in the words of the four evangelists, containing all that they record, but without repetition. Messrs. Thomas Nelson and Sons have generously co-operated in permitting the use of the best translation. Originally planned for the churches of all denominations in a single community, the booklet has proved a blessing to many thousands of Christians. May this new edition help in the fulfillment of the great purpose which the Gospel epilogue expresses. ------------------------------------------------------ | COPYRIGHT, 1905, BY THE OAK PARK PASTORS' UNION. | | THE TEXT OF THE AMERICAN STANDARD REVISED BIBLE, | | COPYRIGHT 1901, BY THOMAS NELSON AND SONS, IS USED | | BY SPECIAL ARRANGEMENT AND WITH THEIR PERMISSION. | ------------------------------------------------------ HIS LAST WEEK GOING UP TO JERUSALEM. And it came to pass when the days were well nigh come that Jesus should be received up, he stedfastly set his face to go to Jerusalem. And he departed from Galilee, and passed through the borders of Samaria and Galilee, and came into the borders of Judæa beyond the Jordan. And great multitudes followed him, and he healed them there. And they were on the way, going up to Jerusalem; and Jesus was going before them: and they were amazed; and they that followed were afraid. And he took again the twelve, and began to tell them the things that were to happen unto them, saying, "Behold, we go up to Jerusalem; and the Son of man shall be delivered unto the chief priests and the scribes; and they shall condemn him to death, and shall deliver him unto the Gentiles; and they shall mock him, and shall spit upon him, and shall scourge him, and shall kill him; and after three days he shall rise again." Thomas therefore, who is called Didymus, said unto his fellow-disciples, "Let us also go, that we may die with him." And he entered and passed through Jericho and went on before, going up to Jerusalem. Now the passover of the Jews was at hand: and many went up to Jerusalem out of the country before the passover, to purify themselves. They sought therefore for Jesus, and spake one with another, as they stood in the temple, "What think ye? That he will not come to the feast?" Now the chief priests and the Pharisees had given commandment, that, if any man knew where he was, he should show it, that they might take him. THE FEAST AT BETHANY. Jesus therefore six days before the passover came to Bethany, where Lazarus was, whom Jesus raised from the dead. So they made him a supper there in the house of Simon the leper; and Martha served: but Lazarus was one of them that sat at meat with him. Mary therefore took a pound of ointment of pure nard, very precious, and anointed the feet of Jesus, and wiped his feet with her hair; and the house was filled with the odor of the ointment. But Judas Iscariot, one of his disciples, that should betray him, saith, "Why was not this ointment sold for three hundred shillings, and given to the poor?" Now this he said, not because he cared for the poor; but because he was a thief, and having the bag took away what was put therein. Jesus therefore said, "Suffer her to keep it against the day of my burying. For the poor ye have always with you; but me ye have not always. She hath done what she could; she hath anointed my body beforehand for the burying. And verily I say unto you, Wheresoever the gospel shall be preached throughout the whole world, that also which this woman hath done shall be spoken of for a memorial of her." The common people therefore of the Jews learned that he was there: and they came, not for Jesus' sake only, but that they might see Lazarus also, whom he had raised from the dead. But the chief priests took counsel that they might put Lazarus also to death; because that by reason of him many of the Jews went away, and believed on Jesus. PALM SUNDAY--THE DAY OF TRIUMPH. THE TRIUMPHAL ENTRY. On the morrow when they drew nigh unto Jerusalem, unto Bethphage and Bethany, at the mount of Olives, he sendeth two of his disciples, and saith unto them, "Go your way into the village that is over against you: and straightway as ye enter into it, ye shall find a colt tied, whereon no man ever yet sat; loose him, and bring him. And if any one say unto you, 'Why do ye this?' say ye, 'The Lord hath need of him; and straightway he will send him back hither.'" Now this is come to pass, that it might be fulfilled, which was spoken through the prophet, saying, "Tell ye the daughter of Zion, Behold, thy King cometh unto thee, Meek, and riding upon an ass, And upon a colt the foal of an ass." And they went away, and found a colt tied at the door without in the open street: and they loose him. And certain of them that stood there said unto them, "What do ye, loosing the colt?" And they said unto them even as Jesus had said: and they let them go. And they bring the colt unto Jesus, and cast on him their garments; and he sat upon him. And the most part of the multitude spread their garments upon the way; and others branches, which they had cut from the fields. And as he was drawing nigh, even at the descent of the Mount of Olives, the whole multitude of the disciples began to rejoice and praise God with a loud voice for all the mighty works which they had seen. And they that went before, and they that followed, cried, "Hosanna to the Son of David; Blessed is he that cometh in the name of the Lord; Blessed is the kingdom that cometh, the kingdom of our father David: Hosanna in the highest." These things understood not his disciples at the first: but when Jesus was glorified, then remembered they that these things were written of him, and that they had done these things unto him. The multitude, therefore, that was with him when he called Lazarus out of the tomb, and raised him from the dead, bare witness. For this cause also the multitude went and met him, for that they heard that he had done this sign. And some of the Pharisees from the multitude said unto him, "Teacher, rebuke thy disciples." And he answered and said, "I tell you that, if these shall hold their peace, the stones will cry out." And when he drew nigh, he saw the city and wept over it, saying, "If thou hadst known in this day, even thou, the things which belong unto peace! but now they are hid from thine eyes. For the days shall come upon thee, when thine enemies shall cast up a bank about thee, and compass thee round, and keep thee in on every side, and shall dash thee to the ground, and thy children within thee; and they shall not leave in thee one stone upon another; because thou knewest not the time of thy visitation." And when he was come into Jerusalem, all the city was stirred, saying, "Who is this?" And the multitude said, "This is the prophet, Jesus, from Nazareth of Galilee." The Pharisees therefore said among themselves, "Behold, how ye prevail nothing; lo, the world is gone after him." And he entered into Jerusalem, into the temple; and when he had looked round about upon all things, it being now eventide, he went out unto Bethany with the twelve. MONDAY--THE DAY OF AUTHORITY. THE CURSING OF THE FIG TREE. And on the morrow, when they were come out from Bethany, he hungered. And seeing a fig tree afar off having leaves, he came, if haply he might find anything thereon: and when he came to it, he found nothing but leaves; for it was not the season of figs. And he answered and said unto it, "No man eat fruit from thee henceforward for ever." And his disciples heard it. THE CLEANSING OF THE TEMPLE. And they come to Jerusalem: and he entered into the temple, and began to cast out them that sold and them that bought in the temple, and overthrew the tables of the money-changers, and the seats of them that sold the doves: and he would not suffer that any man should carry a vessel through the temple. And he taught, and said unto them, "Is it not written, 'My house shall be called a house of prayer for all the nations'? but ye have made it a den of robbers." And the blind and the lame came to him in the temple; and he healed them. But when the chief priests and the scribes saw the wonderful things that he did, and the children that were crying in the temple and saying, "Hosanna to the son of David": they were moved with indignation, and said unto him, "Hearest thou what these are saying?" And Jesus saith unto them, "Yea: did ye never read, 'Out of the mouth of babes and sucklings thou hast perfected praise'?" And the chief priests and the scribes and the principal men of the people sought to destroy him: and they could not find what they might do; for the people all hung upon him, listening. And he left them, and went forth out of the city to Bethany, and lodged there. TUESDAY--THE DAY OF CONTROVERSY. THE LESSON FROM THE WITHERED FIG TREE. And as they passed by in the morning, they saw the fig tree withered away from the roots. And Peter calling to remembrance saith unto him, "Rabbi, behold the fig tree which thou cursedst is withered away." And Jesus answering saith unto them, "Have faith in God. Verily I say unto you, Whosoever shall say unto this mountain, 'Be thou taken up and cast into the sea'; and shall not doubt in his heart, but shall believe that what he saith cometh to pass; he shall have it. Therefore I say unto you, All things whatsoever ye pray and ask for, believe that ye receive them, and ye shall have them. And whensoever ye stand praying, forgive, if ye have aught against any one; that your Father also who is in heaven may forgive you your trespasses." THE CHALLENGE OF CHRIST'S AUTHORITY. And they came again to Jerusalem. And all the people came early in the morning to him in the temple to hear him. And as he was teaching the people in the temple, and preaching the gospel, there came upon him the chief priests and the scribes with the elders; and they spake, saying unto him, "Tell us: By what authority doest thou these things? or who is he that gave thee this authority?" And Jesus answered, and said unto them, "I also will ask you one question, which if ye tell me, I likewise will tell you by what authority I do these things. The baptism of John, whence was it? from heaven or from men?" And they reasoned with themselves, saying, "If we shall say, 'From heaven'; he will say unto us, 'Why did ye not believe him?' But if we shall say, 'From men'; all the people will stone us: for they are persuaded that John was a prophet." And they answered Jesus, and said, "We know not." And Jesus said unto them, "Neither tell I you by what authority I do these things." THE TWO SONS. "But what think ye? A man had two sons; and he came to the first, and said, 'Son, go work to-day in the vineyard.' And he answered and said, 'I will not': but afterward he repented himself, and went. And he came to the second, and said likewise. And he answered and said, 'I go, sir': and went not. Which of the two did the will of his father?" They say, "The first." Jesus saith unto them, "Verily I say unto you, that the publicans and the harlots go into the kingdom of God before you. For John came unto you in the way of righteousness, and ye believed him not; but the publicans and the harlots believed him; and ye, when ye saw it, did not even repent yourselves afterward that ye might believe him." THE WICKED HUSBANDMEN. "Hear another parable: There was a man who was a householder, who planted a vineyard, and set a hedge about it, and digged a winepress in it, and built a tower, and let it out to husbandmen, and went into another country. And when the season of the fruits drew near, he sent his servants to the husbandmen to receive his fruits. And the husbandmen took his servants, and beat one, and killed another, and stoned another. Again, he sent other servants more than the first; and they did unto them in like manner. But afterward he sent unto them his son, saying, 'They will reverence my son.' But the husbandmen, when they saw the son, said among themselves, 'This is the heir; come, let us kill him, and take his inheritance.' And they took him, and cast him forth out of the vineyard, and killed him. When therefore the lord of the vineyard shall come, what will he do unto those husbandmen?" They say unto him, "He will miserably destroy those miserable men, and will let out the vineyard unto other husbandmen, who shall render him the fruits in their seasons." Jesus saith unto them, "Did ye never read in the scriptures, 'The stone which the builders rejected, The same was made the head of the corner; This was from the Lord, And it is marvellous in our eyes'? Therefore say I unto you, The kingdom of God shall be taken away from you, and shall be given to a nation bringing forth the fruits thereof. And he that falleth on this stone shall be broken to pieces; but on whomsoever it shall fall, it will scatter him as dust." And when the chief priests and the Pharisees heard his parables, they perceived that he spake of them. And when they sought to lay hold on him, they feared the multitudes, because they took him for a prophet. THE MARRIAGE OF THE KING'S SON. And Jesus answered and spake again in parables unto them, saying, "The kingdom of heaven is likened unto a certain king, who made a marriage feast for his son, and sent forth his servants to call them that were bidden to the marriage feast: and they would not come. Again he sent forth other servants, saying, Tell them that are bidden, 'Behold, I have made ready my dinner; my oxen and my fatlings are killed, and all things are ready; come to the marriage feast.' But they made light of it, and went their ways, one to his own farm, another to his merchandise; and the rest laid hold on his servants, and treated them shamefully, and killed them. But the king was wroth; and he sent his armies, and destroyed those murderers, and burned their city. Then saith he to his servants, 'The wedding is ready, but they that were bidden were not worthy. Go ye therefore unto the partings of the highways, and as many as ye shall find, bid to the marriage feast.' And those servants went out into the highways, and gathered together all as many as they found, both bad and good; and the wedding was filled with guests. But when the king came in to behold the guests, he saw there a man who had not on a wedding-garment: and he saith unto him, 'Friend, how camest thou in hither not having a wedding-garment?' And he was speechless. Then the king said to the servants, 'Bind him hand and foot and cast him out into the outer darkness'; there shall be the weeping and the gnashing of teeth. For many are called, but few chosen." TRIBUTE TO CÆSAR. Then went the Pharisees, and took counsel how they might ensnare him in his talk so as to deliver him up to the rule and to the authority of the governor. And they send to him their disciples, with the Herodians, saying, "Teacher, we know that thou art true, and teachest the way of God in truth, and carest not for any one: for thou regardest not the person of men. Tell us therefore, What thinkest thou? Is it lawful to give tribute unto Cæsar, or not?" But Jesus perceived their craftiness, and said, "Why make ye trial of me, ye hypocrites? Show me the tribute money." And they brought unto him a denarius. And he saith unto them, "Whose is this image and superscription?" They say unto him, "Cæsar's." Then he saith unto them, "Render therefore unto Cæsar the things that are Cæsar's; and unto God the things that are God's." And when they heard it, they marvelled, and left him, and went away. THE QUESTION OF THE RESURRECTION. And there came to him certain of the Sadducees, they that say that there is no resurrection; and they asked him, saying, "Teacher, Moses wrote unto us, that if a man's brother die, having a wife, and he be childless, his brother should take the wife, and raise up seed unto his brother. There were therefore seven brethren: and the first took a wife, and died childless; and the second; and the third took her; and likewise the seven also left no children, and died. Afterward the woman also died. In the resurrection therefore whose wife of them shall she be? for the seven had her to wife." And Jesus said unto them, "Ye do err, not knowing the scriptures, nor the power of God. The sons of this world marry, and are given in marriage; but they that are accounted worthy to attain to that world, and the resurrection from the dead, neither marry, nor are given in marriage: for neither can they die any more: for they are equal unto the angels; and are sons of God, being sons of the resurrection. But that the dead are raised, even Moses showed, in the place concerning the Bush, when he calleth the Lord the God of Abraham, and the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob. Now he is not the God of the dead, but of the living: for all live unto him." And when the multitudes heard it, they were astonished at his teaching. THE GREATEST COMMANDMENT. And one of the scribes came, and heard them questioning together, and knowing that he had answered them well, asked him, "What commandment is the first of all?" Jesus answered, "The first is, 'Hear, O Israel: The Lord our God, the Lord is one: and thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy mind, and with all thy strength.' The second is this, 'Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself.' There is none other commandment greater than these." And the scribe said unto him, "Of a truth, Teacher, thou hast well said that he is one: and there is none other but he: and to love him with all the heart, and with all the understanding and with all the strength, and to love his neighbor as himself, is much more than all whole burnt-offerings and sacrifices." And when Jesus saw that he answered discreetly, he said unto him, "Thou art not far from the kingdom of God." THE UNANSWERABLE QUESTION OF JESUS. Now while the Pharisees were gathered together Jesus asked them a question, saying, "What think ye of the Christ? whose son is he?" They say unto him, "The son of David." He saith unto them, "How then doth David in the Spirit call him Lord, saying, 'The Lord said unto my Lord, Sit thou on my right hand, Till I put thine enemies underneath thy feet?' If David then calleth him Lord, how is he his son?" And no one was able to answer him a word, neither durst any man from that day forth ask him any more questions. And the common people heard him gladly. DISCOURSE OF JESUS AGAINST THE SCRIBES AND PHARISEES. Then spake Jesus to the multitudes and to his disciples, saying, "The scribes and the Pharisees sit on Moses' seat: all things therefore whatsoever they bid you, these do and observe: but do not ye after their works; for they say, and do not. Yea, they bind heavy burdens and grievous to be borne, and lay them on men's shoulders; but they themselves will not move them with their finger. But all their works they do to be seen of men: for they make broad their phylacteries, and enlarge the borders of their garments, and love the chief place at feasts, and the chief seats in the synagogues, and the salutations in the market-places, and to be called of men, 'Rabbi.' But be not ye called 'Rabbi,' for one is your teacher, and all ye are brethren. And call no man your father on the earth: for one is your Father, even he who is in heaven. Neither be ye called masters: for one is your master, even the Christ. But he that is greatest among you shall be your servant. And whosoever shall exalt himself shall be humbled: and whosoever shall humble himself shall be exalted. "But woe unto you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! because ye shut the kingdom of heaven against men: for ye enter not in yourselves, neither suffer ye them that are entering in to enter. "Woe unto you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! for ye compass sea and land to make one proselyte; and when he is become so, ye make him twofold more a son of hell than yourselves. "Woe unto you, ye blind guides, that say, 'Whosoever shall swear by the temple, it is nothing; but whosoever shall swear by the gold of the temple, he is a debtor.' Ye fools and blind: for which is greater, the gold, or the temple that hath sanctified the gold? And, 'Whosoever shall swear by the altar, it is nothing; but whosoever shall swear by the gift that is upon it, he is a debtor.' Ye blind: for which is greater, the gift, or the altar that sanctifieth the gift? He therefore that sweareth by the altar, sweareth by it, and by all things thereon. And he that sweareth by the temple, sweareth by it, and by him that dwelleth therein. And he that sweareth by the heaven, sweareth by the throne of God, and by him that sitteth thereon. "Woe unto you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! for ye tithe mint and anise and cummin, and have left undone the weightier matters of the law, justice, and mercy, and faith: but these ye ought to have done, and not to have left the other undone. Ye blind guides, that strain out the gnat, and swallow the camel! "Woe unto you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! for ye cleanse the outside of the cup and of the platter, but within they are full from extortion and excess. Thou blind Pharisee, cleanse first the inside of the cup and of the platter, that the outside thereof may become clean also. "Woe unto you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! for ye are like unto whited sepulchres, which outwardly appear beautiful, but inwardly are full of dead men's bones, and of all uncleanness. Even so ye also outwardly appear righteous unto men, but inwardly ye are full of hypocrisy and iniquity. "Woe unto you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! for ye build the sepulchres of the prophets, and garnish the tombs of the righteous, and say, 'If we had been in the days of our fathers, we should not have been partakers with them in the blood of the prophets.' Wherefore ye witness to yourselves, that ye are sons of them that slew the prophets. Fill ye up then the measure of your fathers. Ye serpents, ye offspring of vipers, how shall ye escape the judgment of hell? Therefore, behold, I send unto you prophets, and wise men, and scribes: some of them shall ye kill and crucify; and some of them shall ye scourge in your synagogues, and persecute from city to city: that upon you may come all the righteous blood shed on the earth, from the blood of Abel the righteous unto the blood of Zachariah son of Barachiah, whom ye slew between the sanctuary and the altar. Verily I say unto you, All these things shall come upon this generation. "O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, that killeth the prophets, and stoneth them that are sent unto her! how often would I have gathered thy children together, even as a hen gathereth her chickens under her wings, and ye would not! Behold, your house is left unto you desolate. For I say unto you, Ye shall not see me henceforth, till ye shall say, 'Blessed is he that cometh in the name of the Lord.'" THE WIDOW'S TWO MITES. And he sat down over against the treasury, and beheld how the multitude cast money into the treasury: and many that were rich cast in much. And there came a poor widow, and she cast in two mites, which make a farthing. And he called unto him his disciples, and said unto them, "Verily, I say unto you, This poor widow cast in more than all they that are casting into the treasury: for they all did cast in of their superfluity; but she of her want did cast in all that she had, even all her living." THE GENTILES SEEK JESUS. Now there were certain Greeks among those that went up to worship at the feast: these therefore came to Philip, who was of Bethsaida of Galilee, and asked him, saying, "Sir, we would see Jesus." Philip cometh and telleth Andrew: Andrew cometh, and Philip, and they tell Jesus. And Jesus answereth them, saying, "The hour is come, that the Son of man should be glorified. Verily, verily, I say unto you, Except a grain of wheat fall into the earth and die, it abideth by itself alone; but if it die, it beareth much fruit. He that loveth his life loseth it: and he that hateth his life in this world shall keep it unto life eternal. If any man serve me, let him follow me: and where I am, there shall also my servant be: if any man serve me, him will the Father honor. Now is my soul troubled; and what shall I say? Father, save me from this hour. But for this cause came I unto this hour. Father, glorify thy name." There came therefore a voice out of heaven, saying, "I have both glorified it, and will glorify it again." The multitude, therefore, that stood by, and heard it, said that it had thundered: others said, "An angel hath spoken to him." Jesus answered and said, "This voice hath not come for my sake, but for your sakes. Now is the judgment of this world: now shall the prince of this world be cast out. And I, if I be lifted up from the earth, will draw all men unto myself." But this he said, signifying by what manner of death he should die. The multitude therefore answered him, "We have heard out of the law that the Christ abideth forever: and how sayest thou, 'The Son of man must be lifted up'? who is this Son of man?" Jesus therefore said unto them, "Yet a little while is the light among you. Walk while ye have the light that darkness overtake you not: and he that walketh in the darkness knoweth not whither he goeth. While ye have the light, believe on the light, that ye may become sons of light." These things spake Jesus, and he departed and hid himself from them. THE JEWS REJECT JESUS. But though he had done so many signs before them, yet they believed not on him: that the word of Isaiah the prophet might be fulfilled, which he spake, "Lord, who hath believed our report? And to whom hath the arm of the Lord been revealed?" For this cause they could not believe, for that Isaiah said again, "He hath blinded their eyes, and he hardened their heart; Lest they should see with their eyes, and perceive with their heart, And should turn, And I should heal them." These things said Isaiah, because he saw his glory; and he spake of him. Nevertheless even of the rulers many believed on him; but because of the Pharisees they did not confess it, lest they should be put out of the synagogue: for they loved the glory that is of men more than the glory that is of God. And Jesus cried and said, "He that believeth on me, believeth not on me, but on him that sent me. And he that beholdeth me beholdeth him that sent me. I am come a light into the world, that whosoever believeth on me may not abide in the darkness. And if any man hear my sayings, and keep them not, I judge him not: for I came not to judge the world, but to save the world. He that rejecteth me, and receiveth not my sayings, hath one that judgeth him: the word that I spake, the same shall judge him in the last day. For I spake not from myself; but the Father that sent me, he hath given me a commandment, what I should say, and what I should speak. And I know that his commandment is life eternal; the things therefore which I speak, even as the Father hath said unto me, so I speak." DISCOURSE CONCERNING THE FUTURE. And Jesus went out from the temple, and was going on his way; and his disciples came to him to show him the buildings of the temple. But he answered and said unto them, "See ye not all these things? Verily I say unto you, There shall not be left here one stone upon another, that shall not be thrown down." And as he sat on the mount of Olives over against the temple, Peter and James and John and Andrew asked him privately, "Tell us, when shall these things be? and what shall be the sign when these things are all about to be accomplished?" And Jesus began to say unto them, "Take heed that no man lead you astray. Many shall come in my name, saying, 'I am he,' and shall lead many astray. And when ye shall hear of wars and rumors of wars, be not troubled: these things must needs come to pass; but the end is not yet. For nation shall rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom; there shall be earthquakes in divers places; there shall be famines: these things are the beginning of the travail. "But take ye heed to yourselves: for they shall deliver you up to councils; and in synagogues shall ye be beaten; and before governors and kings shall ye stand for my sake, for a testimony unto them. And the gospel must first be preached unto all the nations. And when they lead you to judgment, and deliver you up, be not anxious beforehand what ye shall speak; but whatsoever shall be given you in that hour, that speak ye; for it is not ye that speak, but the Holy Spirit. But ye shall be delivered up even by parents, and brethren, and kinsfolk, and friends: and some of you shall they cause to be put to death. And ye shall be hated of all men for my name's sake. "And then shall many stumble, and shall deliver up one another, and shall hate one another. And many false prophets shall arise, and shall lead many astray. And because iniquity shall be multiplied, the love of the many shall wax cold. But he that endureth to the end, the same shall be saved. "But when ye see Jerusalem compassed with armies, then know that her desolation is at hand. Then let them that are in Judæa flee unto the mountains; let him that is on the housetop not go down to take out the things that are in his house; and let him that is in the field not return back to take his cloak. For these are days of vengeance, that all things which are written may be fulfilled. "But woe unto them that are with child and to them that give suck in those days! And pray ye that your flight be not in the winter, neither on a Sabbath: for then shall be great tribulation, such as hath not been from the beginning of the world until now, no, nor ever shall be. And except those days had been shortened, no flesh would have been saved: but for the elect's sake those days shall be shortened. Then if any man shall say unto you, 'Lo, here is the Christ,' or, 'Here,' believe it not. For there shall arise false Christs, and false prophets, and shall show great signs and wonders; so as to lead astray, if possible, even the elect. But take ye heed: behold, I have told you all things beforehand. If, therefore, they shall say unto you, 'Behold, he is in the wilderness,' go not forth: 'Behold, he is in the inner chambers,' believe it not. For as the lightning cometh forth from the east and is seen even unto the west, so shall be the coming of the Son of man. Wheresoever the carcase is, there will the eagles be gathered together. "But immediately after the tribulation of those days the sun shall be darkened, and the moon shall not give her light, and the stars shall fall from heaven, and the powers of the heavens shall be shaken: and then shall appear the sign of the Son of man in heaven: and then shall all the tribes of the earth mourn, and they shall see the Son of man coming on the clouds of heaven with power and great glory. And he shall send forth his angels with a great sound of a trumpet, and shall gather together his elect from the four winds, from the uttermost part of the earth to the uttermost part of heaven. "Now from the fig tree learn her parable: when her branch is now become tender, and putteth forth its leaves, ye know that the summer is nigh; even so ye also, when ye see all these things, know ye that he is nigh, even at the doors. Verily I say unto you, This generation shall not pass away till all these things be accomplished. Heaven and earth shall pass away, but my words shall not pass away. But of that day and hour knoweth no one, not even the angels of heaven, neither the Son, but the Father only. "But take heed to yourselves, lest haply your hearts be overcharged with surfeiting, and drunkenness, and cares of this life, and that day come on you suddenly as a snare; for so shall it come upon all them that dwell on the face of all the earth. But watch ye at every season, making supplication, that ye may prevail to escape all these things that shall come to pass, and to stand before the Son of man. "And as were the days of Noah, so shall be the coming of the Son of man. For as in those days which were before the flood they were eating and drinking, marrying and giving in marriage, until the day that Noah entered into the ark, and they knew not until the flood came, and took them all away; so shall be the coming of the Son of man. Then shall two men be in the field; one is taken, and one is left; two women shall be grinding at the mill; one is taken, and one is left. Watch therefore: for ye know not on what day your Lord cometh. "But know this, that if the master of the house had known in what watch the thief was coming, he would have watched, and would not have suffered his house to be broken through. Therefore be ye also ready; for in an hour that ye think not the Son of man cometh. "Take ye heed, watch and pray: for ye know not when the time is. It is as when a man, sojourning in another country, having left his house, and given authority to his servants, to each one his work, commanded also the porter to watch. Watch therefore: for ye know not when the lord of the house cometh, whether at even, or at midnight, or at cockcrowing, or in the morning; lest coming suddenly he find you sleeping. And what I say unto you I say unto all, Watch. "Who then is the faithful and wise servant, whom the lord hath set over his household, to give them their food in due season? Blessed is that servant, whom his lord when he cometh shall find so doing. Verily I say unto you, that he will set him over all that he hath. But if that evil servant shall say in his heart, 'My lord tarrieth'; and shall begin to beat his fellow-servants, and shall eat and drink with the drunken; the lord of that servant shall come in a day when he expecteth not, and in an hour when he knoweth not, and shall cut him asunder, and appoint his portion with the hypocrites: there shall be the weeping and the gnashing of teeth." THE PARABLE OF THE TEN VIRGINS. "Then shall the kingdom of heaven be likened unto ten virgins, who took their lamps and went forth to meet the bridegroom. And five of them were foolish, and five were wise. For the foolish, when they took their lamps, took no oil with them: but the wise took oil in their vessels with their lamps. Now while the bridegroom tarried, they all slumbered and slept. But at midnight there is a cry, 'Behold, the bridegroom! Come ye forth to meet him.' Then all those virgins arose, and trimmed their lamps. And the foolish said unto the wise, 'Give us of your oil; for our lamps are going out.' But the wise answered, saying, 'Peradventure there will not be enough for us and you: go ye rather to them that sell, and buy for yourselves.' "And while they went away to buy, the bridegroom came; and they that were ready went in with him to the marriage feast: and the door was shut. Afterward came also the other virgins, saying, 'Lord, Lord, open to us.' But he answered and said, 'Verily I say unto you, I know you not.' "Watch therefore, for ye know not the day nor the hour." THE PARABLE OF THE TALENTS. "For it is as when a man, going into another country, called his own servants, and delivered unto them his goods. And unto one he gave five talents, to another two, to another one; to each according to his several ability; and he went on his journey. Straightway he that received the five talents went and traded with them, and made other five talents. In like manner he also that received the two gained other two. But he that received the one went away and digged in the earth, and hid his lord's money. "Now after a long time the lord of these servants cometh, and maketh a reckoning with them. And he that received the five talents came and brought other five talents, saying, 'Lord, thou deliveredst unto me five talents: lo, I have gained other five talents.' His lord said unto him, 'Well done, good and faithful servant: thou hast been faithful over a few things, I will set thee over many things; enter thou into the joy of thy lord.' "And he also that received the two talents came and said, 'Lord, thou deliveredst unto me two talents: lo, I have gained other two talents.' "His lord said unto him, 'Well done, good and faithful servant: thou hast been faithful over a few things, I will set thee over many things; enter thou into the joy of thy lord.' "And he also that had received the one talent came and said, 'Lord, I knew thee that thou art a hard man, reaping where thou didst not sow, and gathering where thou didst not scatter; and I was afraid, and went away and hid thy talent in the earth: lo, thou hast thine own.' "But his lord answered and said unto him, 'Thou wicked and slothful servant, thou knewest that I reap where I sowed not, and gather where I did not scatter; thou oughtest therefore to have put my money to the bankers, and at my coming I should have received back mine own with interest. Take ye away therefore the talent from him, and give it unto him that hath the ten talents. For unto every one that hath shall be given, and he shall have abundance; but from him that hath not, even that which he hath shall be taken away. And cast ye out the unprofitable servant into the outer darkness: there shall be the weeping and the gnashing of teeth.'" THE JUDGMENT SCENE. "But when the Son of man shall come in his glory, and all the angels with him, then shall he sit on the throne of his glory: and before him shall be gathered all the nations: and he shall separate them one from another, as the shepherd separateth the sheep from the goats; and he shall set the sheep on his right hand, but the goats on the left. Then shall the King say unto them on his right hand, 'Come, ye blessed of my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world: for I was hungry, and ye gave me to eat; I was thirsty, and ye gave me drink; I was a stranger, and ye took me in; naked, and ye clothed me; I was sick, and ye visited me; I was in prison, and ye came unto me.' "Then shall the righteous answer him, saying, 'Lord, when saw we thee hungry, and fed thee? or athirst, and gave thee drink? And when saw we thee a stranger, and took thee in? or naked, and clothed thee? And when saw we thee sick, or in prison, and came unto thee?' And the King shall answer and say unto them, 'Verily I say unto you, Inasmuch as ye did it unto one of these my children, even these least, ye did it unto me.' "Then shall he say also unto them on the left hand, 'Depart from me, ye cursed, into the eternal fire which is prepared for the devil and his angels: for I was hungry, and ye did not give me to eat; I was thirsty, and ye gave me no drink; I was a stranger, and ye took me not in; naked, and ye clothed me not; sick, and in prison, and ye visited me not.' Then shall they also answer, saying, 'Lord, when saw we thee hungry, or athirst, or a stranger, or naked, or sick, or in prison, and did not minister unto thee?' Then shall he answer them, saying, 'Verily I say unto you, Inasmuch as ye did it not unto one of these least, ye did it not unto me.' And these shall go away into eternal punishment: but the righteous into eternal life." THE CONSPIRACY AGAINST JESUS. And it came to pass, when Jesus had finished all these words, he said unto his disciples, "Ye know that after two days the passover cometh, and the Son of man is delivered up to be crucified." Then were gathered together the chief priests, the elders of the people, unto the court of the high priest, who was called Caiaphas; and they took counsel together that they might take Jesus by subtlety, and kill him. But they said, "Not during the feast, lest a tumult arise among the people." And Satan entered into Judas, who was called Iscariot, being of the number of the twelve. And he went away and communed with the chief priests and captains, how he might deliver him unto them. And they were glad, and they weighed unto him thirty pieces of silver. And from that time he sought opportunity to deliver him unto them in the absence of the multitude. WEDNESDAY--THE DAY OF RETIREMENT. [There is no record of the events of this day. Jesus spent it in retirement, almost certainly in the home of his friends at Bethany.] THURSDAY--THE DAY OF FELLOWSHIP. PREPARATION FOR THE PASSOVER. And on the first day of unleavened bread, when they sacrificed the passover, his disciples say unto him, "Where wilt thou that we go and make ready that thou mayest eat the passover?" And he sendeth two of his disciples, and saith unto them, "Go into the city, and there shall meet you a man bearing a pitcher of water; follow him; and wheresoever he shall enter in, say to the master of the house, 'The Teacher saith, My time is at hand. Where is my guest-chamber, where I shall eat the passover with my disciples?' And he will himself show you a large upper room furnished and ready: and there make ready for us." And the disciples went forth, and came into the city, and found as he had said unto them: and they made ready the passover. STRIFE AMONG THE DISCIPLES. And when it was evening he cometh with the twelve. And there arose also a contention among them, which of them was accounted to be greatest. And he said unto them, "The kings of the Gentiles have lordship over them; and they that have authority over them are called Benefactors. But ye shall not be so: but he that is the greater among you, let him become as the younger: and he that is chief, as he that doth serve. For which is greater, he that sitteth at meat, or he that serveth? Is not he that sitteth at meat? But I am in the midst of you as he that serveth. But ye are they that have continued with me in my temptations; and I appoint unto you a kingdom, even as my Father appointed unto me, that ye may eat and drink at my table in my kingdom; and ye shall sit on thrones judging the twelve tribes of Israel." JESUS WASHING THE DISCIPLES' FEET. Now before the feast of the passover, Jesus knowing that his hour was come that he should depart out of this world unto the Father, having loved his own that were in the world, he loved them unto the end. And during supper, the devil having already put into the heart of Judas Iscariot, Simon's son, to betray him, Jesus, knowing that the Father had given all things into his hands, and that he came forth from God, and goeth unto God, riseth from supper, and layeth aside his garments; and he took a towel, and girded himself. Then he poureth water into the basin, and began to wash the disciples' feet, and to wipe them with the towel wherewith he was girded. So he cometh to Simon Peter. He saith unto him, "Lord, dost thou wash my feet?" Jesus answered and said unto him, "What I do thou knowest not now; but thou shalt understand hereafter." Peter saith unto him, "Thou shalt never wash my feet." Jesus answered him, "If I wash thee not, thou hast no part with me." Simon Peter saith unto him, "Lord, not my feet only, but also my hands and my head." Jesus saith to him, "He that is bathed needeth not save to wash his feet, but is clean every whit: and ye are clean, but not all." For he knew him that should betray him; therefore said he, "Ye are not all clean." So when he had washed their feet, and taken his garments, and sat down again, he said unto them, "Know ye what I have done to you? Ye call me Teacher, and Lord: and ye say well; for so I am. If I then, the Lord and the Teacher, have washed your feet, ye also ought to wash one another's feet. For I have given you an example, that ye also should do as I have done to you. Verily, verily, I say unto you, A servant is not greater than his lord; neither one that is sent greater than he that sent him. If ye know these things, blessed are ye if ye do them. "I speak not of you all: I know whom I have chosen: but that the scripture may be fulfilled, He that eateth my bread lifted up his heel against me. From henceforth I tell you before it come to pass, that, when it is come to pass, ye may believe that I am he. Verily, verily, I say unto you, He that receiveth whomsoever I send receiveth me; and he that receiveth me receiveth him that sent me." THE BETRAYER POINTED OUT. When Jesus had thus said, he was troubled in the spirit, and testified, and said, "Verily, verily, I say unto you, that one of you shall betray me." The disciples looked one on another, doubting of whom he spake. And they were exceeding sorrowful, and began to say unto him every one, "Is it I, Lord?" And he answered and said, "He that dipped his hand with me in the dish, the same shall betray me. The Son of man goeth, even as it is written of him: but woe unto that man through whom the Son of man is betrayed! Good were it for that man if he had not been born." And Judas, who betrayed him, answered and said, "Is it I, Rabbi?" He saith unto him, "Thou hast said." There was at the table reclining in Jesus' bosom one of his disciples, whom Jesus loved. Simon Peter therefore beckoneth to him, and saith unto him, "Tell us who it is of whom he speaketh." He leaning back, as he was, on Jesus' breast, saith unto him, "Lord, who is it?" Jesus therefore answereth, "He it is, for whom I shall dip the sop, and give it him." So when he had dipped the sop, he taketh and giveth it to Judas, the son of Simon Iscariot. And after the sop, then entered Satan into him. Jesus therefore saith unto him, "What thou doest, do quickly." Now no man at the table knew for what intent he spake this unto him. For some thought because Judas had the bag, that Jesus said unto him, "Buy what things we have need of for the feast," or that he should give something to the poor. He then having received the sop went out straightway: and it was night. When therefore he was gone out, Jesus saith, "Now is the Son of man glorified, and God is glorified in him; and God shall glorify him in himself, and straightway shall he glorify him." THE LORD'S SUPPER. And he said unto them, "With desire I have desired to eat this passover with you before I suffer: for I say unto you, I shall not eat it until it be fulfilled in the Kingdom of God." And he took bread, and when he had given thanks, he brake it, and gave to them, saying, "This is my body; which is given for you; this do in remembrance of me." And he took a cup, in like manner after supper, and gave thanks, and gave to them, saying, "Drink ye all of it; for this is my blood of the new covenant, which is poured out for you, for many, unto remission of sins. Take this and divide it among yourselves; for I say unto you, I shall not drink from henceforth of the fruit of the vine, until the Kingdom of God shall come." THE FAREWELL CONVERSATION. "Little children, yet a little while I am with you. Ye shall seek me: and as I said unto the Jews, 'Whither I go, ye cannot come,' so now I say unto you. A new commandment I give unto you, that ye love one another; even as I have loved you, that ye also love one another. By this shall all men know that ye are my disciples, if ye have love one to another." Simon Peter saith unto him, "Lord, whither goest thou?" Jesus answered, "Whither I go, thou canst not follow me now; but thou shalt follow afterwards." And Jesus saith unto them, "All ye shall be offended: for it is written, I will smite the shepherd, and the sheep shall be scattered abroad. Howbeit, after I am raised up, I will go before you into Galilee." But Peter said unto him, "Although all shall be offended, yet will not I." And Jesus saith unto him, "Verily I say unto thee, that thou to-day, even this night, before the cock crow twice, shalt deny me thrice. Simon, Simon, behold Satan asked to have you, that he might sift you as wheat: but I make supplication for thee, that thy faith fail not: and do thou, when once thou hast turned again, establish thy brethren." But he spake vehemently, "If I must die with thee, I will not deny thee." And in like manner also said they all. * * * * * And he said unto them, "When I sent you forth without purse, and wallet, and shoes, lacked ye anything?" And they said, "Nothing." And he said unto them, "But now, he that hath a purse, let him take it, and likewise a wallet; and he that hath none, let him sell his cloak, and buy a sword. For I say unto you, that this which is written must be fulfilled in me, 'And he was reckoned with transgressors': for that which concerneth me hath fulfillment." And they said, "Lord, behold, here are two swords." And he said unto them, "It is enough." * * * * * "Let not your heart be troubled; believe in God, believe also in me. In my Father's house are many mansions; if it were not so, I would have told you; for I go to prepare a place for you. And if I go and prepare a place for you, I come again, and will receive you unto myself; that where I am, there ye may be also. And whither I go, ye know the way." Thomas saith unto him, "Lord, we know not whither thou goest; how know we the way?" Jesus saith unto him, "I am the way, and the truth, and the life: no one cometh unto the Father, but by me. If ye had known me, ye would have known my Father also: from henceforth ye know him, and have seen him." Philip saith unto him, "Lord, show us the Father, and it sufficeth us." Jesus saith unto him, "Have I been so long time with you, and dost thou not know me, Philip? He that hath seen me hath seen the Father; how sayest thou, 'Show us the Father'? Believest thou not that I am in the Father, and the Father in me? The words that I say unto you I speak not from myself: but the Father abiding in me doeth his works. Believe me that I am in the Father, and the Father in me: or else believe me for the very works' sake. Verily, verily, I say unto you, He that believeth on me, the works that I do shall he do also: and greater works than these shall he do; because I go unto the Father. And whatsoever ye shall ask in my name, that will I do, that the Father may be glorified in the Son. If ye shall ask anything in my name, that will I do. If ye love me, ye will keep my commandments. And I will pray the Father, and he shall give you another Comforter, that he may be with you for ever, even the Spirit of truth: whom the world cannot receive; for it beholdeth him not, neither knoweth him: ye know him, for he abideth with you, and shall be in you. I will not leave you desolate: I come unto you. "Yet a little while, and the world beholdeth me no more; but ye behold me: because I live, ye shall live also. In that day ye shall know that I am in my Father, and ye in me, and I in you. He that hath my commandments, and keepeth them, he it is that loveth me: and he that loveth me shall be loved of my Father, and I will love him, and will manifest myself unto him." Judas (not Iscariot) saith unto him, "Lord, what is come to pass that thou wilt manifest thyself unto us, and not unto the world?" Jesus answered and said unto him, "If a man love me, he will keep my word: and my Father will love him, and we will come unto him, and make our abode with him. He that loveth me not keepeth not my words: and the word which ye hear is not mine, but the Father's who sent me. "These things have I spoken unto you, while yet abiding with you. But the Comforter, even the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in my name, he shall teach you all things, and bring to your remembrance all that I said unto you. Peace I leave with you; my peace I give unto you: not as the world giveth, give I unto you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be fearful. Ye heard how I said to you, I go away, and I come unto you. If ye loved me, ye would have rejoiced, because I go unto the Father: for the Father is greater than I. "And now I have told you before it come to pass, that, when it is come to pass, ye may believe. I will no more speak much with you, for the prince of the world cometh: and he hath nothing in me; but that the world may know that I love the Father, and as the Father gave me commandment, even so I do." * * * * * "I am the true vine, and my Father is the husbandman. Every branch in me that beareth not fruit, he taketh it away: and every branch that beareth fruit, he cleanseth it, that it may bear more fruit. Already ye are clean because of the word which I have spoken unto you. Abide in me, and I in you. As the branch cannot bear fruit of itself, except it abide in the vine; so neither can ye, except ye abide in me. I am the vine, ye are the branches: He that abideth in me, and I in him, the same beareth much fruit: for apart from me ye can do nothing. If a man abide not in me, he is cast forth as a branch, and is withered; and they gather them, and cast them into the fire, and they are burned. If ye abide in me, and my words abide in you, ask whatsoever ye will, and it shall be done unto you. Herein is my Father glorified, that ye bear much fruit: and so shall ye be my disciples. Even as the Father hath loved me, I also have loved you: abide ye in my love. If ye keep my commandments, ye shall abide in my love; even as I have kept my Father's commandments, and abide in his love. "These things have I spoken unto you, that my joy may be in you, and that your joy may be made full. This is my commandment, that ye love one another, even as I have loved you. Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends. Ye are my friends, if ye do the things which I command you. No longer do I call you servants; for the servant knoweth not what his lord doeth: but I have called you friends; for all things that I heard from my Father I have made known unto you. Ye did not choose me, but I chose you, and appointed you, that ye should go and bear fruit, and that your fruit should abide: that whatsoever ye shall ask of the Father in my name, he may give it you. These things I command you, that ye may love one another. If the world hate you, ye know that it hath hated me before it hated you. If ye were of the world, the world would love its own: but because ye are not of the world, but I chose you out of the world, therefore the world hateth you. Remember the word that I said unto you, A servant is not greater than his lord. If they persecuted me, they will also persecute you; if they kept my word, they will keep yours also. But all these things will they do unto you for my name's sake, because they know not him that sent me. If I had not come and spoken unto them, they had not had sin: but now they have no excuse for their sin. He that hateth me hateth my Father also. If I had not done among them the works which none other did, they had not had sin: but now have they both seen and hated me and my Father. But this cometh to pass, that the word may be fulfilled that is written in their law, 'They hated me without a cause.' But when the Comforter is come, whom I will send unto you from the Father, even the Spirit of truth, which proceedeth from the Father, he shall bear witness of me: and ye also bear witness, because ye have been with me from the beginning. "These things have I spoken unto you, that ye should not be caused to stumble. They shall put you out of the synagogues: yea, the hour cometh, that whosoever killeth you shall think that he offereth service unto God. And these things will they do, because they have not known the Father, nor me. But these things have I spoken unto you, that when their hour is come, ye may remember them, how that I told you. And these things I said not unto you from the beginning, because I was with you. But now I go unto him that sent me; and none of you asketh me, 'Whither goest thou?' But because I have spoken these things unto you, sorrow hath filled your heart. Nevertheless I tell you the truth: It is expedient for you that I go away; for if I go not away, the Comforter will not come unto you; but if I go, I will send him unto you. And he, when he is come, will convict the world in respect of sin, and of righteousness, and of judgment: of sin, because they believe not on me; of righteousness, because I go to the Father, and ye behold me no more; of judgment, because the prince of this world hath been judged. I have yet many things to say unto you, but ye cannot bear them now. Howbeit when he, the Spirit of truth, is come, he shall guide you into all the truth: for he shall not speak from himself; but what things soever he shall hear, these shall he speak: and he shall declare unto you the things that are to come. He shall glorify me: for he shall take of mine, and shall declare it unto you. All things whatsoever the Father hath are mine: therefore said I, that he taketh of mine, and shall declare it unto you. A little while, and ye behold me no more; and again a little while, and ye shall see me." Some of his disciples therefore said one to another, "What is this that he saith unto us, 'A little while, and ye behold me not; and again a little while, and ye shall see me': and 'Because I go to the Father'?" They said therefore, "What is this that he saith, 'A little while'? We know not what he saith." Jesus perceived that they were desirous to ask him, and he said unto them, "Do ye inquire among yourselves concerning this, that I said, 'A little while, and ye behold me not, and again a little while, and ye shall see me'? Verily, verily, I say unto you, that ye shall weep and lament, but the world shall rejoice: ye shall be sorrowful, but your sorrow shall be turned into joy. A woman when she is in travail hath sorrow, because her hour is come: but when she is delivered of the child she remembereth no more the anguish, for the joy that a man is born into the world. And ye therefore now have sorrow: but I will see you again, and your heart shall rejoice, and your joy no one taketh away from you. And in that day ye shall ask me no question. Verily, verily, I say unto you, If ye shall ask anything of the Father, he will give it you in my name. Hitherto have ye asked nothing in my name: ask, and ye shall receive, that your joy may be made full. "These things have I spoken unto you in dark sayings: the hour cometh, when I shall no more speak unto you in dark sayings, but shall tell you plainly of the Father. In that day ye shall ask in my name: and I say not unto you, that I will pray the Father for you; for the Father himself loveth you, because ye have loved me, and have believed that I came forth from the Father. I came out from the Father, and am come into the world; again, I leave the world, and go unto the Father." His disciples say, "Lo, now speakest thou plainly, and speakest no dark saying. Now know we that thou knowest all things, and needest not that any man should ask thee: by this we believe that thou camest forth from God." Jesus answered them, "Do ye now believe? Behold, the hour cometh, yea, is come, that ye shall be scattered, every man to his own, and shall leave me alone: and yet I am not alone, because the Father is with me. These things have I spoken unto you, that in me ye may have peace. In the world ye have tribulation: but be of good cheer: I have overcome the world." THE INTERCESSORY PRAYER. These things spake Jesus; and lifting up his eyes to heaven, he said, "Father, the hour is come; glorify thy Son, that the Son may glorify thee: even as thou gavest him authority over all flesh, that to all whom thou hast given him, he should give eternal life. And this is life eternal, that they should know thee the only true God, and him whom thou didst send, even Jesus Christ. I glorified thee on the earth, having accomplished the work which thou hast given me to do. And now, Father, glorify thou me with thine own self with the glory which I had with thee before the world was. I manifested thy name unto the men whom thou gavest me out of the world: thine they were, and thou gavest them to me; and they have kept thy word. Now they know that all things whatsoever thou hast given me are from thee: for the words which thou gavest me I have given unto them; and they received them, and knew of a truth that I came forth from thee, and they believed that thou didst send me. I pray for them: I pray not for the world, but for those whom thou hast given me; for they are thine: and all things that are mine are thine, and thine are mine: and I am glorified in them. And I am no more in the world, and these are in the world, and I come to thee. Holy Father, keep them in thy name which thou hast given me, that they may be one, even as we are. While I was with them, I kept them in thy name which thou hast given me; and I guarded them, and not one of them perished, but the son of perdition; that the scripture might be fulfilled. But now I come to thee; and these things I speak in the world, that they may have my joy made full in themselves. I have given them thy word, and the world hated them, because they are not of the world, even as I am not of the world. I pray not that thou shouldest take them from the world, but that thou shouldest keep them from the evil one. They are not of the world, even as I am not of the world. Sanctify them in the truth: thy word is truth. As thou didst send me into the world, even so sent I them into the world. And for their sakes I sanctify myself, that they themselves also may be sanctified in truth. Neither for these only do I pray, but for them also that believe on me through their word; that they may all be one; even as thou, Father, art in me, and I in thee, that they also may be in us: that the world may believe that thou didst send me. And the glory which thou hast given me I have given unto them; that they may be one, even as we are one; I in them, and thou in me, that they may be perfected into one; that the world may know that thou didst send me, and lovedst them, even as thou lovedst me. Father, I desire that they also whom thou hast given me be with me where I am, that they may behold my glory, which thou hast given me: for thou lovedst me before the foundation of the world. O righteous Father, the world knew thee not, but I knew thee; and these knew that thou didst send me; and I made known unto them thy name, and will make it known; that the love wherewith thou lovedst me may be in them, and I in them." And when they had sung a hymn, they went out into the mount of Olives. FRIDAY--THE DAY OF SUFFERING. THE AGONY IN GETHSEMANE. And they come unto a place which was named Gethsemane: and he saith unto his disciples, "Sit ye here, while I pray." And he taketh with him Peter and James and John, and began to be greatly amazed, and sore troubled. And he saith unto them, "My soul is exceeding sorrowful even unto death: abide ye here, and watch." And he went forward a little, and fell on the ground, and prayed that, if it were possible, the hour might pass away from him. And he said, "Abba, Father, all things are possible unto thee; remove this cup from me: howbeit not what I will, but what thou wilt." And there appeared unto him an angel from heaven, strengthening him. And being in an agony, he prayed more earnestly; and his sweat became as it were great drops of blood falling down upon the ground. And when he rose up from his prayer, he came unto the disciples, and found them sleeping for sorrow, and said unto Peter, "Simon, sleepest thou? Couldest thou not watch one hour? Watch and pray, that ye enter not into temptation: the spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak." Again a second time he went away, and prayed, saying, "My Father, if this cannot pass away, except I drink it, thy will be done." And he came again and found them sleeping, for their eyes were heavy. And he left them again, and went away, and prayed a third time, saying the same words. Then cometh he to the disciples, and saith unto them, "Sleep on now, and take your rest: behold, the hour is at hand, and the Son of man is betrayed into the hands of sinners. "Arise, let us be going: behold, he is at hand that betrayeth me." THE BETRAYAL AND ARREST. And straightway, while he yet spake, cometh Judas, one of the twelve, and with him a multitude with swords and staves, from the chief priests and the scribes and the elders. Now he that betrayed him had given them a token, saying, "Whomsoever I shall kiss, that is he; take him, and lead him away safely." And when he was come, straightway he came to him, and saith, "Rabbi," and kissed him. But Jesus said unto him, "Judas, betrayest thou the Son of man with a kiss?" Jesus, therefore, knowing all the things that were coming upon him, went forth, and saith unto them, "Whom seek ye?" They answered him, "Jesus of Nazareth." Jesus saith unto them, "I am he." And Judas also, who betrayed him, was standing with them. When therefore he said unto them, "I am he," they went backward, and fell to the ground. Again therefore he asked them, "Whom seek ye?" And they said, "Jesus of Nazareth." Jesus answered, "I told you that I am he; if therefore ye seek me, let these go their way": that the word might be fulfilled which he spake, "Of those whom thou hast given me I lost not one." And when they that were about him saw what would follow, they said, "Lord, shall we smite with the sword?" Simon Peter therefore having a sword drew it, and struck the high priest's servant, and cut off his right ear. Now the servant's name was Malchus. But Jesus answered and said, "Suffer ye them thus far." And he touched his ear, and healed him. Then saith Jesus unto Peter, "Put up again thy sword into its place: for all they that take the sword shall perish with the sword. Or thinkest thou that I cannot beseech my Father and he shall even now send me more than twelve legions of angels? How then should the scriptures be fulfilled, that thus it must be? The cup which the Father hath given me, shall I not drink it?" And Jesus said unto the chief priests and captains of the temple, and elders, that were come against him, "Are ye come out as against a robber, with swords and staves? When I was daily with you in the temple, ye stretched not forth your hands against me: but this is your hour, and the power of darkness." Then all the disciples left him, and fled. And a certain young man followed with him, having a linen cloth cast about him, over his naked body: and they lay hold on him; but he left the linen cloth, and fled naked. THE TRIAL BEFORE THE JEWISH AUTHORITIES. So the band and the chief captain, and the officers of the Jews, seized Jesus and bound him, and led him to Annas first; for he was father in law to Caiaphas, who was high priest that year. Now Caiaphas was he that gave counsel to the Jews, that it was expedient that one man should die for the people. And Simon Peter followed Jesus, and so did another disciple. Now that disciple was known unto the high priest, and entered in with Jesus into the court of the high priest; but Peter was standing at the door without. So the other disciple, who was known unto the high priest, went out and spake unto her that kept the door, and brought in Peter. The maid therefore that kept the door saith unto Peter, "Art thou also one of this man's disciples?" He saith, "I am not." Now the servants and the officers were standing there, having made a fire of coals; for it was cold; and they were warming themselves; and Peter also was with them standing and warming himself. The high priest therefore asked Jesus of his disciples, and of his teaching. Jesus answered him, "I have spoken openly to the world; I even taught in synagogues, and in the temple, where all the Jews come together; and in secret spake I nothing. Why askest thou me? Ask them that have heard me, what I spake unto them: behold, these know the things which I said." And when he had said this, one of the officers standing by struck Jesus with his hand, saying, "Answerest thou the high priest so?" Jesus answered him, "If I have spoken evil, bear witness of the evil; but if well, why smitest thou me?" Annas therefore sent him bound unto Caiaphas the high priest. Now the chief priests and the whole council sought witness against Jesus to put him to death; and found it not. For many bare false witness against him, and their witness agreed not together. And there stood up certain, and bare false witness against him, saying, "We heard him say, I will destroy this temple that is made with hands, and in three days I will build another made without hands." And not even so did their witness agree together. And the high priest stood up in the midst, and asked Jesus, saying, "Answerest thou nothing? What is it which these witness against thee?" But he held his peace, and answered nothing. And the high priest said unto him, "I adjure thee by the living God, that thou tell us whether thou art the Christ, the Son of God." And Jesus said, "I am: and ye shall see the Son of man sitting at the right hand of Power, and coming with the clouds of heaven." And the high priest rent his clothes, and saith, "What further need have we of witnesses? Ye have heard the blasphemy: what think ye?" And they all condemned him to be worthy of death. Then did they spit in his face and buffet him. And they blindfolded him and smote him with the palms of their hands, saying, "Prophesy unto us, thou Christ: who is he that struck thee?" THE DENIAL OF PETER. And as Peter was beneath in the court, there cometh one of the maids of the high priest; and seeing Peter warming himself, she looked upon him, and saith, "Thou also wast with the Nazarene, even Jesus." But he denied, saying, "I neither know nor understand what thou sayest," and he went out into the porch; and the cock crew. And after a little while they that stood by came and said to Peter, "Of a truth thou also art one of them; for thy speech maketh thee known." Then began he to curse and to swear, "I know not the man." And straightway the cock crew. And the Lord turned, and looked upon Peter. And Peter remembered the word of the Lord, how that he said unto him, "Before the cock crow twice thou shalt deny me thrice." And he went out, and wept bitterly. And straightway in the morning the chief priests with the elders and scribes, and the whole council, held a consultation, and bound Jesus, and carried him away, and delivered him up to Pilate, the governor. THE REMORSE OF JUDAS. Then Judas, who betrayed him, when he saw that he was condemned, repented himself, and brought back the thirty pieces of silver to the chief priests and elders, saying, "I have sinned in that I betrayed innocent blood." But they said, "What is that to us? See thou to it." And he cast down the pieces of silver into the sanctuary, and departed; and he went away and hanged himself. And the chief priests took the pieces of silver, and said, "It is not lawful to put them into the treasury, since it is the price of blood." And they took counsel, and bought with them the potter's field, to bury strangers in. Wherefore that field was called, "The field of blood," unto this day. Then was fulfilled that which was spoken through Jeremiah the prophet, saying, "And they took the thirty pieces of silver, the price of him that was priced, whom certain of the children of Israel did price; and they gave them for the potter's field, as the Lord appointed me." THE TRIAL BEFORE PILATE. They led Jesus therefore from Caiaphas into the Prætorium: and it was early; and they themselves entered not into the Prætorium, that they might not be defiled, but might eat the passover. Pilate therefore went out unto them, and saith, "What accusation bring ye against this man?" They answered and said unto him, "If this man were not an evil-doer, we should not have delivered him up unto thee." Pilate therefore said unto them, "Take him yourselves, and judge him according to your law." The Jews said unto him, "It is not lawful for us to put any man to death": that the word of Jesus might be fulfilled, which he spake, signifying by what manner of death he should die. And they began to accuse him, saying, "We found this man perverting our nation, and forbidding to give tribute to Cæsar, and saying that he himself is Christ a king." And when he was accused by the chief priests and elders, he answered nothing. Then saith Pilate unto him, "Hearest thou not how many things they witness against thee?" And he gave him no answer, not even to one word: insomuch that the governor marvelled greatly. Pilate therefore entered again into the Prætorium, and called Jesus, and said unto him, "Art thou the King of the Jews?" Jesus answered, "Sayest thou this of thyself, or did others tell it thee concerning me?" Pilate answered, "Am I a Jew? Thine own nation and the chief priests delivered thee unto me: what hast thou done?" Jesus answered, "My kingdom is not of this world: if my kingdom were of this world, then would my servants fight, that I should not be delivered to the Jews; but now is my kingdom not from hence." Pilate therefore said unto him, "Art thou a king then?" Jesus answered, "Thou sayest that I am a king. To this end have I been born, and to this end am I come into the world, that I should bear witness unto the truth. Every one that is of the truth heareth my voice." Pilate saith unto him, "What is truth?" And when he had said this, he went out again unto the Jews, and saith unto them, "I find no crime in him." But they were the more urgent, saying, "He stirreth up the people, teaching throughout all Judæa, and beginning from Galilee, even unto this place." But when Pilate heard it, he asked whether the man were a Galilæan. And when he knew that he was of Herod's jurisdiction, he sent him unto Herod, who himself also was at Jerusalem in these days. JESUS BEFORE HEROD. Now when Herod saw Jesus, he was exceeding glad; for he was of a long time desirous to see him, because he had heard concerning him; and he hoped to see some miracle done by him. And he questioned him in many words; but he answered him nothing. And the chief priests and the scribes stood, vehemently accusing him. And Herod with his soldiers set him at nought, and mocked him, and arraying him in gorgeous apparel sent him back to Pilate. And Herod and Pilate became friends with each other that very day: for before they were at enmity between themselves. THE TRIAL BEFORE PILATE RESUMED. And Pilate called together the chief priests and the rulers and the people, and said unto them, "Ye brought unto me this man, as one that perverteth the people: and behold, I, having examined him before you, found no fault in this man touching those things whereof ye accuse him: no, nor yet Herod: for he sent him back unto us; and behold, nothing worthy of death hath been done by him. I will therefore chastise him, and release him." Now at the feast the governor was wont to release unto the multitude one prisoner, whom they would. And they had then a notable prisoner, called Barabbas, lying bound with them that had made insurrection, men who in the insurrection had committed murder. And the multitude went up and began to ask him to do as he was wont to do unto them. And Pilate answered them, saying, "Will ye that I release unto you the King of the Jews?" For he perceived that for envy the chief priests had delivered him up. Now the chief priests and the elders persuaded the multitudes that they should ask for Barabbas, and destroy Jesus. But the governor answered and said unto them, "Which of the two will ye that I release unto you?" And they said, "Barabbas." Pilate saith unto them, "What then shall I do unto Jesus who is called Christ?" They all say, "Let him be crucified." And he said unto them a third time, "Why, what evil hath this man done? I have found no cause of death in him: I will therefore chastise and release him." Then Pilate therefore took Jesus, and scourged him. And the soldiers led him away within the court, which is the Prætorium; and they call together the whole band. And they stripped him, and arrayed him in a purple garment. And they platted a crown of thorns and put it upon his head, and a reed in his right hand; and they kneeled down before him, and mocked him, saying: "Hail, King of the Jews!" and they struck him with their hands. And they spat upon him, and took the reed and smote him upon the head. And Pilate went out again, and saith unto them, "Behold, I bring him out to you, that ye may know that I find no crime in him." Jesus therefore came out, wearing the crown of thorns and the purple garment. And Pilate saith unto them, "Behold, the man!" When therefore the chief priests and the officers saw him, they cried out, saying, "Crucify him, crucify him!" Pilate saith unto them, "Take him yourselves, and crucify him: for I find no crime in him." The Jews answered him, "We have a law, and by that law he ought to die, because he made himself the Son of God." When Pilate therefore heard this saying, he was the more afraid; and he entered into the Prætorium again, and saith unto Jesus, "Whence art thou?" But Jesus gave him no answer. Pilate therefore saith unto him, "Speakest thou not unto me? Knowest thou not that I have power to release thee, and have power to crucify thee?" Jesus answered him, "Thou wouldest have no power against me, except it were given thee from above: therefore he that delivered me unto thee hath greater sin." Upon this Pilate sought to release him: but the Jews cried out, saying, "If thou release this man, thou art not Cæsar's friend: every one that maketh himself a king speaketh against Cæsar." When Pilate therefore heard these words, he brought Jesus out, and sat down on the judgment-seat at a place called The Pavement, but in Hebrew, Gabbatha. And while he was sitting on the judgment-seat, his wife sent unto him, saying, "Have thou nothing to do with that righteous man; for I have suffered many things this day in a dream because of him." Now it was the Preparation of the passover: it was about the sixth hour. And he saith unto the Jews, "Behold, your King." They therefore cried out, "Away with him, away with him, crucify him!" Pilate saith unto them, "Shall I crucify your King?" The chief priests answered, "We have no king but Cæsar." So when Pilate saw that he prevailed nothing, but rather that a tumult was arising, he took water, and washed his hands before the multitude, saying, "I am innocent of the blood of this righteous man; see ye to it." And all the people answered and said, "His blood be on us, and on our children." And they were urgent with loud voices asking that he might be crucified. And their voices prevailed. And Pilate, wishing to content the multitude, gave sentence that what they asked for should be done. And he released unto them Barabbas, him that for insurrection and murder had been cast into prison, whom they asked for; but Jesus he delivered up to their will. And when they had mocked him, they took off from him the robe, and put on him his garments, and led him away to crucify him. THE SORROWFUL WAY. They took Jesus therefore: and he went out, bearing the cross for himself. And as they came out, they laid hold upon one Simon of Cyrene, the father of Alexander and Rufus, who was passing by, coming from the country; him they compelled to go with them, and laid on him the cross, that he might bear it after Jesus. And there followed him a great multitude of the people, and of women who bewailed and lamented him. But Jesus turning unto them said, "Daughters of Jerusalem, weep not for me, but weep for yourselves, and for your children. For behold, the days are coming, in which they shall say, 'Blessed are the barren, and the wombs that never bare, and the breasts that never gave suck.' Then shall they begin to say to the mountains, 'Fall on us'; and to the hills, 'Cover us.' For if they do these things in the green tree, what shall be done in the dry?" And there were also two others, malefactors, led with him to be put to death. THE CRUCIFIXION. And when they were come unto a place called Golgotha, that is to say, The place of a skull, they gave him wine to drink mingled with gall: and when he had tasted it, he would not drink. There they crucified him, and the malefactors, one on the right hand and the other on the left. And Jesus said, "Father, forgive them; for they know not what they do." And Pilate wrote a title also, and put it on the cross. And there was written: -------------------------------------------- | JESUS OF NAZARETH, THE KING OF THE JEWS. | -------------------------------------------- This title therefore read many of the Jews, for the place where Jesus was crucified was nigh to the city; and it was written in Hebrew, and in Latin, and in Greek. The chief priests of the Jews therefore said to Pilate, "Write not, 'The King of the Jews,' but that he said, 'I am King of the Jews.'" Pilate answered, "What I have written I have written." The soldiers therefore, when they had crucified Jesus, took his garments and made four parts, to every soldier a part; and also the coat: now the coat was without seam, woven from the top throughout. They said therefore one to another, "Let us not rend it, but cast lots for it, whose it shall be": that the scripture might be fulfilled, which saith, "They parted my garments among them, And upon my vesture did they cast lots." These things therefore the soldiers did; and they sat and watched him there. And the people stood beholding. And they that passed by railed on him, wagging their heads, and saying, "Thou that destroyest the temple, and buildest it in three days, save thyself: if thou art the Son of God, come down from the cross." In like manner also, the chief priests mocking him, with the scribes and elders, said, "He saved others; himself he cannot save. Let the Christ, the King of Israel, now come down from the cross, that we may see and believe. He trusteth on God; let him deliver him now, if he desireth him: for he said, I am the Son of God." And one of the malefactors that were hanged railed on him, saying, "Art not thou the Christ? Save thyself and us." But the other answered, and rebuking him said, "Dost thou not even fear God, seeing thou art in the same condemnation? And we indeed justly; for we receive the due reward of our deeds: but this man hath done nothing amiss." And he said, "Jesus, remember me when thou comest in thy kingdom." And he said unto him, "Verily I say unto thee, To-day shalt thou be with me in Paradise." But there were standing by the cross of Jesus his mother, and his mother's sister, Mary the wife of Cleopas, and Mary Magdalene. When Jesus therefore saw his mother, and the disciple standing by whom he loved, he saith unto his mother, "Woman, behold thy son!" Then saith he to the disciple, "Behold thy mother!" And from that hour the disciple took her unto his owns home. And when the sixth hour was come, there was darkness over the whole land until the ninth hour. And at the ninth hour Jesus cried with a loud voice, "Eloi, Eloi, lama sabachthani?" which is, being interpreted, "My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?" And some of them that stood by, when they heard it, said, "Behold, he calleth Elijah." After this, Jesus, knowing that all things are now finished, that the scripture might be accomplished, saith, "I thirst." There was set there a vessel full of vinegar: so they put a sponge full of the vinegar upon hyssop, and brought it to his mouth. When Jesus therefore had received the vinegar, he said, "It is finished." And Jesus, crying with a loud voice, said, "Father, into thy hands I commend my spirit," and having said this, he gave up the ghost. And behold, the veil of the temple was rent in two from the top to the bottom; and the earth did quake; and the rocks were rent; and the tombs were opened; and many bodies of the saints that had fallen asleep were raised; and coming forth out of the tombs after his resurrection they entered into the holy city and appeared unto many. Now the centurion, and they that were with him watching Jesus, when they saw the earthquake, and the things that were done, feared exceedingly, saying, "Truly this was the Son of God." And all the multitudes that came together to this sight, when they beheld the things that were done, returned smiting their breasts. And many women were there beholding from afar, who had followed Jesus from Galilee, ministering unto him; among whom was Mary Magdalene, and Mary the mother of James and Joses, and the mother of the sons of Zebedee. The Jews therefore, because it was the Preparation, that the bodies should not remain on the cross upon the sabbath (for the day of that sabbath was a high day), asked of Pilate that their legs might be broken, and that they might be taken away. The soldiers therefore came, and brake the legs of the first, and of the other that was crucified with him: but when they came to Jesus, and saw that he was dead already, they brake not his legs; howbeit one of the soldiers with a spear pierced his side, and straightway there came out blood and water. And he that hath seen hath borne witness, and his witness is true: and he knoweth that he saith true, that ye also may believe. For these things came to pass, that the scripture might be fulfilled, "A bone of him shall not be broken." And again another scripture saith, "They shall look on him whom they pierced." THE BURIAL. And after these things, when even was come, there came a rich man from Arimathæa, named Joseph, a councillor of honorable estate, a disciple of Jesus, but secretly for fear of the Jews; and he boldly went in unto Pilate and asked for the body of Jesus. And Pilate marvelled if he were already dead: and calling unto him the centurion, he asked him whether he had been any while dead. And when he learned it of the centurion, he granted the corpse to Joseph. He came therefore, and took away his body. And there came also Nicodemus, he who at the first came to him by night, bringing a mixture of myrrh and aloes, about a hundred pounds. So they took the body of Jesus, and bound it in linen cloths with the spices, as the custom of the Jews is to bury. Now in the place where he was crucified there was a garden: and in the garden a new tomb wherein was never man yet laid. There then because of the Jews' Preparation (for the tomb was nigh at hand), they laid Jesus; and rolled a stone against the door of the tomb. And Mary Magdalene and Mary the mother of Joses beheld the tomb, and how his body was laid. And they returned, and prepared spices and ointments. SATURDAY--THE DAY OF SILENCE AND SORROW. THE WATCH AT THE TOMB. Now on the morrow, which is the day after the Preparation, the chief priests and the Pharisees were gathered together unto Pilate, saying, "Sir, we remember that that deceiver said while he was yet alive, 'After three days I rise again.' Command therefore that the sepulchre be made sure until the third day, lest haply his disciples come and steal him away, and say unto the people, 'He is risen from the dead,' and the last error will be worse than the first." Pilate said unto them, "Ye have a guard: go, make it as sure as ye can." So they went, and made the sepulchre sure, sealing the stone, the guard being with them. SUNDAY--THE DAY OF RESURRECTION. THE EARTHQUAKE. And behold, there was a great earthquake; for an angel of the Lord descended from heaven, and came and rolled away the stone, and sat upon it. His appearance was as lightning, and his raiment white as snow: and for fear of him the watchers did quake, and became as dead men. THE EMPTY TOMB. Now on the first day of the week cometh Mary Magdalene early, while it was yet dark, unto the tomb, and seeth the stone taken away from the tomb. She runneth therefore, and cometh to Simon Peter, and to the other disciple whom Jesus loved, and saith unto them, "They have taken away the Lord out of the tomb, and we know not where they have laid him." Peter therefore went forth, and the other disciple, and they went toward the tomb. And they ran both together: and the other disciple outran Peter, and came first to the tomb; and stooping and looking in, he seeth the linen cloths lying; yet entered he not in. Simon Peter therefore also cometh, following him, and entered into the tomb: and he beholdeth the linen cloths lying, and the napkin, that was upon his head, not lying with the linen cloths, but rolled up in a place by itself. Then entered in therefore the other disciple also, who came first to the tomb, and he saw, and believed. For as yet they knew not the scripture, that he must rise again from the dead. So the disciples went away again unto their own home. THE APPEARANCE TO MARY. But Mary was standing without at the tomb weeping: so, as she wept, she stooped and looked into the tomb; and she beholdeth two angels in white sitting, one at the head, and one at the feet, where the body of Jesus had lain. And they say unto her, "Woman, why weepest thou?" She saith unto them, "Because they have taken away my Lord, and I know not where they have laid him." When she had thus said, she turned herself back, and beholdeth Jesus standing, and knew not that it was Jesus. Jesus saith unto her, "Woman, why weepest thou? Whom seekest thou?" She, supposing him to be the gardener, saith unto him, "Sir, if thou hast borne him hence, tell me where thou hast laid him, and I will take him away." Jesus saith unto her, "Mary." She turneth herself, and saith unto him in Hebrew, "Rabboni"; which is to say, "Teacher." Jesus saith to her, "Touch me not; for I am not yet ascended unto the Father; but go unto my brethren, and say to them, 'I ascend unto my Father, and your Father, and my God and your God.'" Mary Magdalene cometh and telleth the disciples, "I have seen the Lord"; and that he had said these things unto her. THE APPEARANCE TO THE WOMEN. And the women which had come with him out of Galilee came unto the tomb, bringing the spices which they had prepared. And they were saying among themselves, "Who shall roll us away the stone from the door of the tomb?" and looking up, they see that the stone is rolled back: for it was exceeding great. And entering into the tomb, they saw a young man sitting on the right side, arrayed in a white robe; and they were amazed. And he saith unto them, "Be not amazed: ye seek Jesus, the Nazarene, who hath been crucified; he is risen; he is not here: behold, the place where they laid him! But go, tell his disciples and Peter, 'He goeth before you into Galilee: there shall ye see him, as he said unto you.'" And they departed quickly from the tomb with fear and great joy, and ran to bring his disciples word. And behold, Jesus met them, saying, "All hail." And they came and took hold of his feet, and worshipped him. Then saith Jesus unto them, "Fear not: go tell my brethren that they depart into Galilee, and there shall they see me." REPORT OF THE WATCH. Now while they were going, behold, some of the guard came into the city, and told unto the chief priests all the things that were come to pass. And when they were assembled with the elders, and had taken counsel, they gave much money unto the soldiers, saying, "Say ye, 'His disciples came by night, and stole him away while we slept.' And if this come to the governor's ears, we will persuade him, and rid you of care." So they took the money and did as they were taught: and this saying was spread abroad among the Jews, and continueth until this day. THE APPEARANCE AT EMMAUS. And behold, two of them were going that very day to a village named Emmaus, which was three-score furlongs from Jerusalem. And they communed with each other of all these things which had happened. And it came to pass, while they communed and questioned together, that Jesus himself drew near, and went with them. But their eyes were holden that they should not know him. And he said unto them, "What communications are these that ye have one with another, as ye walk?" And they stood still, looking sad. And one of them, named Cleopas, answering, said unto him, "Dost thou alone sojourn in Jerusalem and not know the things which are come to pass there in these days?" And he said unto them, "What things?" And they said unto him, "The things concerning Jesus the Nazarene, who was a prophet mighty in deed and word before God, and all the people: and how the chief priests and our rulers delivered him up to be condemned to death, and crucified him. But we hoped that it was he who should redeem Israel. Yea, and besides all this, it is now the third day since these things came to pass. Moreover, certain women of our company amazed us, having been early at the tomb; and when they found not his body, they came, saying, that they had also seen a vision of angels, who said that he was alive. And certain of them that were with us went to the tomb, and found it even so as the women had said: but him they saw not." And he said unto them, "O foolish men, and slow of heart to believe in all that the prophets have spoken! Behooved it not the Christ to suffer these things, and to enter into his glory?" And beginning from Moses and from all the prophets, he interpreted to them in all the scriptures the things concerning himself. And they drew nigh unto the village, whither they were going: and he made as though he would go further. And they constrained him, saying, "Abide with us; for it is toward evening, and the day is now far spent." And he went in to abide with them. And it came to pass, when he had sat down with them to meat, he took the bread and blessed; and breaking it, he gave to them. And their eyes were opened, and they knew him; and he vanished out of their sight. And they said one to another, "Was not our heart burning within us, while he spake to us in the way, while he opened to us the scriptures?" And they rose up that very hour, and returned to Jerusalem, and found the eleven gathered together, and them that were with them, saying, "The Lord is risen indeed, and hath appeared to Simon." And they rehearsed the things that happened in the way, and how he was known of them in the breaking of the bread. THE APPEARANCE TO THE DISCIPLES. When therefore it was evening, on that day, the first day of the week, and when the doors were shut where the disciples were, for fear of the Jews, Jesus came and stood in the midst and saith unto them, "Peace be unto you." But they were terrified and affrighted, and supposed that they beheld a spirit. And he said unto them, "Why are ye troubled? and wherefore do questionings arise in your heart? See my hands and my feet, that it is I myself: handle me, and see: for a spirit hath not flesh and bones, as ye behold me having." And when he had said this, he showed them his hands and his feet. And while they still disbelieved for joy, and wondered, he said unto them, "Have ye here anything to eat?" And they gave him a piece of broiled fish. And he took it, and ate before them. Jesus therefore said to them again, "Peace be unto you: as the Father hath sent me, even so send I you." And when he had said this, he breathed on them, and saith unto them, "Receive ye the Holy Spirit: whose soever sins ye forgive, they are forgiven unto them; whose soever sins ye retain, they are retained." AFTER THE RESURRECTION DAY. THE APPEARANCE TO THE DISCIPLES AND TO THOMAS. But Thomas, one of the twelve, called Didymus, was not with them when Jesus came. The other disciples therefore said unto him, "We have seen the Lord." But he said unto them, "Except I shall see in his hands the print of the nails, and put my finger into the print of the nails, and put my hand into his side, I will not believe." And after eight days again his disciples were within, and Thomas with them. Jesus cometh, the doors being shut, and stood in the midst, and said, "Peace be unto you." Then saith he to Thomas, "Reach hither thy finger, and see my hands; and reach hither thy hand, and put it into my side: and be not faithless, but believing." Thomas answered and said unto him, "My Lord and my God." Jesus saith unto him, "Because thou hast seen me, thou hast believed: blessed are they that have not seen, and yet have believed." THE APPEARANCE TO THE SEVEN BY THE SEA. After these things Jesus manifested himself again to the disciples at the sea of Tiberias; and he manifested himself on this wise. There were together Simon Peter, and Thomas called Didymus and Nathanael of Cana in Galilee, and the sons of Zebedee, and two other of his disciples. Simon Peter saith unto them, "I go a fishing." They say unto him, "We also come with thee." They went forth, and entered into the boat; and that night they took nothing. But when day was now breaking, Jesus stood on the beach: yet the disciples knew not that it was Jesus. Jesus therefore saith unto them, "Children, have ye aught to eat?" They answered him, "No." And he said unto them, "Cast the net on the right side of the boat, and ye shall find." They cast therefore, and now they were not able to draw it for the multitude of fishes. That disciple therefore whom Jesus loved saith unto Peter, "It is the Lord." So when Simon Peter heard that it was the Lord, he girt his coat about him (for he was naked), and cast himself into the sea. But the other disciples came in the little boat (for they were not far from the land, but about two hundred cubits off), dragging the net full of fishes. So when they got out upon the land, they see a fire of coals there, and fish laid thereon, and bread. Jesus saith unto them, "Bring of the fish which ye have now taken." Simon Peter therefore went up, and drew the net to land, full of great fishes, a hundred and fifty and three; and for all there were so many, the net was not rent. Jesus saith unto them, "Come and break your fast." And none of the disciples durst inquire of him, "Who art thou?" knowing that it was the Lord. Jesus cometh, and taketh the bread, and giveth them, and the fish likewise. This is now the third time that Jesus was manifested to the disciples, after that he was risen from the dead. So when they had broken their fast, Jesus saith to Simon Peter, "Simon, son of John, lovest thou me more than these?" He saith unto him, "Yea, Lord; thou knowest that I love thee." He saith unto him, "Feed my lambs." He saith unto him again a second time, "Simon, son of John, lovest thou me?" He saith unto him, "Yea, Lord, thou knowest that I love thee." He saith unto him, "Tend my sheep." He saith unto him the third time, "Simon, son of John, lovest thou me?" Peter was grieved because he said unto him the third time, "Lovest thou me?" And he said unto him, "Lord, thou knowest all things; thou knowest that I love thee." Jesus saith unto him, "Feed my sheep. Verily, verily, I say unto thee, When thou wast young, thou girdedst thyself, and walkedst whither thou wouldest; but when thou shalt be old, thou shalt stretch forth thy hands, and another shall gird thee, and carry thee whither thou wouldest not." Now this he spake, signifying by what manner of death he should glorify God. And when he had spoken this, he saith unto him, "Follow me." Peter, turning about, seeth the disciple whom Jesus loved following; who also leaned back on his breast at the supper, and said, "Lord, who is he that betrayeth thee?" Peter therefore seeing him saith to Jesus, "Lord, and what shall this man do?" Jesus saith unto him, "If I will that he tarry till I come, what is that to thee? Follow thou me." This saying therefore went forth among the brethren, that that disciple should not die: yet Jesus said not unto him, that he should not die, but, "If I will that he tarry till I come, what is that to thee?" THE APPEARANCE TO THE ELEVEN ON THE MOUNTAIN. The eleven disciples went into Galilee, unto the mountain where Jesus had appointed them. And when they saw him, they worshipped him; but some doubted. And Jesus came to them and spake unto them, saying, "All authority hath been given unto me in heaven and on earth. Go ye therefore, and make disciples of all the nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit: teaching them to observe all things whatsoever I commanded you: and lo, I am with you always, even unto the end of the world." THE LAST APPEARANCE AND ASCENSION. And he said unto them, "These are my words which I spake unto you, while I was yet with you, that all things must needs be fulfilled, which are written in the law of Moses, and the prophets, and the psalms, concerning me." Then opened he their mind, that they might understand the scriptures; and he said unto them, "Thus it is written, that the Christ should suffer, and rise again from the dead the third day; and that repentance and remission of sins should be preached in his name unto all the nations, beginning from Jerusalem. Ye are witnesses of these things. And behold, I send forth the promise of my Father upon you: but tarry ye in the city, until ye be clothed with power from on high." And he led them out until they were over against Bethany: and he lifted up his hands, and blessed them. And it came to pass, while he blessed them, he parted from them, and was carried up into heaven. And they worshipped him, and returned to Jerusalem with great joy: and were continually in the temple, blessing God. * * * * * MANY OTHER SIGNS THEREFORE DID JESUS IN THE PRESENCE OF THE DISCIPLES, WHICH ARE NOT WRITTEN IN THIS BOOK: BUT THESE ARE WRITTEN, THAT YE MAY BELIEVE THAT JESUS IS THE CHRIST, THE SON OF GOD; AND THAT BELIEVING YE MAY HAVE LIFE IN HIS NAME. [Transcriber's Note: * p. 11: Replaced the word "Caesar" with "Cæsar" located in the phrase "Tribute to Caesar" to be consistent with other similar spellings. * p. 14: Corrected spelling of word "cribes" to "scribes" located in the phrase "But woe unto you, cribes". * p. 23: Added missing closing quotation after the word "hour" located in the phrase "not the day nor the hour". * p. 24: Added missing closing quotation after the word "teeth" located in the phrase "and the gnashing of teeth". * p. 34: Corrected spelling of word "m" to "me" located in the phrase "If a man abide not in m". * p. 43: Corrected spelling of word "ever" to "even" located in the phrase "I ever taught in synagogues".] 
30573	----	available by the Google Books Library Project (http://books.google.com/) Note: Images of the original pages are available through the the Google Books Library Project. See http://books.google.com/books?vid=etoOAAAAIAAJ&id WHY I PREACH THE SECOND COMING by I. M. HALDEMAN, D. D. Pastor First Baptist Church, New York City New York Chicago Fleming H. Revell Company London and Edinburgh Copyright, 1919, by Fleming H. Revell Company New York: 158 Fifth Avenue Chicago: 17 North Wabash Ave. London: 21 Paternoster Square Edinburgh: 75 Princes Street Foreword THE subject of this volume is an address delivered by the Author before the World's Conference on Christian Fundamentals at Philadelphia, May 30, 1919. The reasons for preaching and teaching the Second Coming of our Lord Jesus Christ are manifold and each one worth while. The Author has contented himself with presenting a few as follows: The Second Coming of our Lord Jesus Christ is the one event most often recorded in Holy Scripture. It is bound up with every fundamental doctrine, with every sublime promise and every exhortation to high, to holy and practical Christian living. Only at the Second Coming of our Lord will redemption be complete and the blood of the cross be justified. Not till our Lord Jesus Christ comes the Second time will the Church be exalted into her true function of rulership over the world. Only at the Second Coming will the solemn and covenant promises of God to Israel be fulfilled. Only at the Second Coming of the Christ of God will a government of everlasting righteousness and peace be established on the earth. It is at the Second Coming of Christ alone that the earth will be delivered from the bondage of corruption and transformed into the paradise of God. The Coming of our Lord Jesus Christ FOR His Church is the most imminent event on the horizon of time. I. M. H. _New York, 1919._ Contents I. THE SECOND COMING OF OUR LORD JESUS CHRIST IS THE ONE EVENT MOST OFTEN RECORDED IN HOLY SCRIPTURE II. THE SECOND COMING OF OUR LORD JESUS CHRIST IS BOUND UP WITH EVERY FUNDAMENTAL DOCTRINE, EVERY SUBLIME PROMISE AND EVERY EXHORTATION TO HIGH, TO HOLY AND PRACTICAL CHRISTIAN LIVING III. ONLY AT THE COMING OF OUR LORD JESUS CHRIST WILL REDEMPTION BE COMPLETE AND THE BLOOD OF THE CROSS BE JUSTIFIED IV. NOT TILL OUR LORD JESUS CHRIST COMES THE SECOND TIME WILL THE CHURCH BE EXALTED INTO HER TRUE FUNCTION OF RULERSHIP OVER THE WORLD V. ONLY AT THE SECOND COMING WILL THE SOLEMN AND COVENANT PROMISES OF GOD TO ISRAEL BE FULFILLED VI. ONLY AT THE SECOND COMING OF THE CHRIST OF GOD WILL A GOVERNMENT OF EVERLASTING RIGHTEOUSNESS AND PEACE BE ESTABLISHED UPON THE EARTH VII. IT IS AT THE SECOND COMING OF OUR LORD JESUS CHRIST THAT THE EARTH WILL BE DELIVERED FROM THE BONDAGE OF CORRUPTION AND TRANSFORMED INTO THE PARADISE OF GOD VIII. THE COMING OF OUR LORD JESUS CHRIST FOR HIS CHURCH IS THE MOST IMMINENT EVENT ON THE HORIZON OF TIME I The Second Coming of Our Lord Jesus Christ is the One Event Most Often Recorded in Holy Scripture IT is recorded in type, in figure, in symbol, in analogue, in parable, in hyperbole and metaphor, in exalted song, in noblest poetry and in rarest rhetoric. It is set before us in dramatic and dynamic statement, in high prophetic forecast, in simple narrative, close linked logic, expanded doctrine, divine exhortation and far -reaching appeal. The first promise of the Second Coming was made in Eden. It was made in the promise given to the woman that her seed should bruise the serpent's head. On the cross the serpent bruised the heel of the woman's seed, but her seed did not bruise the serpent's head. Never was his head more uplifted and unbruised than now. The promise of the bruising is of God and must be fulfilled. The record of that fulfillment is to be found in the twentieth chapter of the book of the Revelation where our Lord descends and in the plenitude of His power by the hand of an angel binds Satan for a thousand years beneath His feet and the feet of His saints. As the bruising of the serpent's head takes place at the Second Coming, and the promise of the bruising is made in Eden, then the first promise of the Coming is made in Eden; and as you see rising above the figure of the fallen first man the figure of the Second man, you hear for the first time the story of the Second Coming of the Second man; and thus the story and the doctrine of the Second Coming begin with the very beginning of the Book. For three hundred years Enoch walked amid the slime, the slush and the uprising tide of human iniquity in a God-hating and God-defying world. Then one day God took him out of all the riot and wrong of it without dying into the heaven of His glory; and the Apostle Paul writing to the Corinthians of the Second Coming affirms there will be a generation who will continue alive till the Lord comes; and thus Enoch is a type of that deathless generation and by so much a prophecy of the Second Coming. For one hundred and twenty years Noah preached righteousness to a world from which the death penalty had been removed, a world surrendered to conscience (and let it be well remembered conscience is not the gift of God nor evidence of grace but mark of fallen man, the shadow of God's throne before which the "accuse" and "excuse" of the soul witness to human guilt), a generation given over to unrestrained fallen nature; a generation of murder, assassination, violence, war, utter brutality, sickening sensualism, the invasion of fallen and lust-seeking angels, rank spiritism, diabolism and mocking laughter at God and the things of God. Suddenly, without warning, God called Noah into the ark (the building of which had awakened the derision of the revellers in sin and the would-be wise men of the hour) shut the door and bolted him in. At the end of seven ominous days in which the darksome clouds hung low and threatening, the windows of heaven were opened, the fountains of the deep broken up and the flood fell, sweeping away all save Noah and his family in the ark. When the judgment waters had subsided Noah and his family came forth to set up a new and distinct dispensation in the world. Seated yonder on the Mount of Olives in the shadow of the cross, looking forward to His Second Coming and backward for an illustration that should forecast the times and leave no excuse for exegetical and interpretative theological blundering our Lord said as it was in the days of Noah so should it be when the Son of man should come the Second time. Without warning, out of a world of increasing materialism, self -sufficiency, boasting, pride, violence, war and multiplied peril, a world that under the guise of general indifferentism and cultivated cynicism mocks at the things of God and denies we have a written, final and sure revelation from Him, the Lord will snatch away the genuine, regenerated Church (the dead raised, the living changed) and take them to Himself, into the place prepared. For at least seven years spiritual blackness, measureless woe and indescribable anguish will fall upon a Devil-deceived and Devil-ruled world. Then will the Lord come with His previously gathered Church, execute judgment on the ungodly, sweep away all iniquity and set up the new administration of righteousness and truth. Noah is therefore a figure, a prophecy of the closing hours of this age and its climax in the Second Coming of the Lord. One day Lot went into Sodom, took office, tried to reform the evil city, succeeded in vexing his righteous, but unspiritual soul with the filthy conversation of the wicked, got down to the level of the natural man, lost his testimony and seemed to his friends and intimates like a madman or the most excuselessly inconsistent trifler when he attempted to take up once more his damaged testimony. Then there was a night when God's angels came and snatched him out of the doomed city. The next morning the fire of God fell and Lot "saved so as by fire" looked on at the blaze and the burning of all his works of righteousness as wood hay and stubble, big in bulk but rejected of God. Looking forward to His Second Coming and backward for an illustration the Son of God declared as it was in the days of Lot so should it be when the Son of man should come again. There are good and righteous Christians--righteous enough but wholly unspiritual who are seeking to make spotless town of a world God has judged and doomed, failing to see the cross is not only the judgment of the individual, but equally the judgment of the world; that not only does the cross reveal the end of all flesh but the end in God's sight of that system of things which men call the world; that on the cross the world is crucified to the Christian and the Christian to the world; and failing to see this, failing to get the mind of God are daily descending to the plane of the natural man, are losing and in many cases deliberately setting aside the testimony once for all delivered to the saints. Without warning, they will be snatched away to meet a descending Lord (if they be real and regenerated Christians) and this alone because their faith be it never so small holds them securely in the bonds of the covenant. After that the Lord will be revealed in flaming fire to execute judgment on the world and all the works of misguided social reformers because these works are built, not upon the righteousness of God, but the righteousness of man. According to the Word of the Lord Himself therefore Lot is a picture and prophecy of the closing hours of the present age with its climax the Coming and Appearing of the Lord. After Abraham had typically offered up his son on Mount Moriah and typically received him from the dead on the third day the son for a number of chapters in the record disappears from view. Then Abraham the father sends his servant Eliezer into a far country to get a bride for this now invisible son. Eliezer meets the intended bride at a well from whence she is drawing water, goes with her into her brother's house, takes out a pack of precious things sent from the father in the name of the son, displays them to her and invites her to become the bride of the son. She consents. The servant leads her forth. On the way he talks to her of the promised bridegroom. Suddenly she beholds him coming to meet her. He receives her, takes her into his prepared tent and she becomes his wife. On the same mount nearly two thousand years later God the Father offered up His only begotten Son. On the third day He raised Him from the dead. For two thousand years He has disappeared from view. The Father has sent forth the Spirit to obtain a bride for His Son. He meets her at the Gospel well from whence we draw the waters of salvation. He is calling her through individual selection that she may become the corporate bride. He has brought spiritual gifts which He seeks to display in all her assemblies. He is endeavouring to lead her along the highway of time and to speak to her in the heaven speech of the Coming Bridegroom. Suddenly the Lord will come to meet her and take her into the place prepared and keep her for the marriage hour. In this simple story the analogue finds its prophetic climax in the Second Coming of our Lord. Jacob fled from his home, the brother he had outwitted and the father whom he had deceived. As night drew on footsore and weary he cast himself upon the plain with a stone for his pillow. Visions came to him in the night. A ladder of gold reached from earth to heaven. At the top of it was a host of angels and the Lord Himself in glory. The Lord spoke to him and assured him he and his posterity should have the land on which he was lying for an everlasting possession. It was a confirmation of the oath to and the covenant with Abraham and Isaac. As the covenant can find its fulfillment only at the actual Second Coming of our Lord as the God of Jacob, this vision is the prophetic anticipation of that hour and the heaven-proclaimed assurance the Lord is coming a Second time. Joseph was sent by his father to his brethren. They despised and rejected him. They cast him into the pit of death. He was taken out alive. He was carried away into a far country--even into Egypt. There he was exalted to become co-ruler with Pharaoh. In the hour of famine he became the bread giver, the saviour of a hungry world. At the same time he got a Gentile bride. In the hour when tribulation and sorrow came upon his brethren he revealed himself to them the second time and was owned and acknowledged by them. With his wife he came in his chariot of kingly glory and established his father and his brethren in the promised land of Goshen. The application is so simple it applies itself. God the Father sent His Son to His brethren in the flesh. They despised and rejected Him. They put Him in the place of death. He was raised up alive. He has gone into a far country--even into heaven itself. He is there now as one who has been exiled from earth. He has been exalted to the throne of His Father. For two thousand years of spiritual famine and hunger in the world He has been the giver of the bread of life, the saviour of men. During these years of His exile He has been obtaining a bride from among the Gentiles--that is the Church. When the hour of tribulation and anguish shall come upon His brethren in the flesh, even as He Himself has warned, He will appear in His glory, the scales will fall from their eyes as they did from Paul and they will own Him as their Messiah and Lord, the Holy One of Israel. With His Church in associate power and glory He will deliver them and place them forever in the promised land--the land of their fathers. No sooner has Moses with the host of Israel crossed dry shod through the divided waters of the Red Sea than he lifts up his voice and sings, not of the first, but the Second Coming of the Lord. He sings of Him as a man of war, as the head of celestial armies, coming to execute judgment, overthrow iniquity and establish His reign and rule of righteousness. When you open the historic pages of the Bible, along the seemingly driest and coldest paragraphs you may if you will behold the wheels of the King's chariot flashing by and catch a gleam of His radiant features, now as the man of war in David, and then as the Prince of peace in Solomon. Yonder, under the far-away stars, Job sat at his tent door and as he meditated on the brevity and vanity of human life, its hopes deferred that make the heart sick, the sound of the clods as they fall upon the coffin lid, he asked the question that has quivered down the ages--"If a man die, shall he live again?" He answers his own question. He says he knows he will die. He knows his soul will go into the underworld of the dead. His body will be laid away in the dust. It will become nothing more than a bundle of skin and bones. He knows, also, this bundle of skin and bones is the work of God's hand. The Lord will have respect to His work. He will remember He wrought it. At a given time He will call to Job and Job will answer; then in anticipation of the supreme moment he cries out exultantly he knows his redeemer liveth; that he shall stand in the latter day upon the earth and covered with his own flesh once more shall see his incarnate God. Thus in those wondrous days of the long ago Job caught the shining of the morning star, heard the trumpet of the first resurrection and caught the vision of the Second Coming of his Lord. David sweeps his fingers across the answering chords of his golden harp and sings of that hour when the Lord shall come in His glory; when the trees of the wood shall clap their hands; when the mountains shall flow down at His presence, the waves of the sea fling their hallelujahs on the resounding shore; and when the earth shall own the Lord is coming, coming not the first time to die, but the Second time as the risen one to live and reign and with none to dispute Him. In the Song of Songs we who believe are by nature before God as black and uncomely as the sun-burned tents of Kedar, but by grace in God's sight as beautiful as the Tyre-woven curtains of Solomon. The breath of the spring time is in the air. The voice of the turtle dove is to be heard in the land. It is the time of love and for hearts to find their mates. The leaves of the fig tree of Israel are beginning to put forth. The seeds of hope sown in the graves of the Christian dead and watered with tears from the anguish of the living are ready to bud and blossom forth in the full flower of their assured immortality. The voice of the Bridegroom may be heard saying to the Church: "Come away my beloved. Come thou rose of Sharon and thou lily of the valley," and presently we see the Bridegroom Himself descending and the Church going up out of the wilderness leaning on the arm of her Beloved. So we may learn and quickly if we will, that the Song of Songs which is Solomon's is the celebration of the nuptial hour when our Lord shall come the Second time to take His affianced Church to Himself and make her the heavenly bride of His unfolding and unfading glory. The prophet Isaiah hears the seraphs sing their "holy, holy, holy is the Lord of hosts; the whole earth is full of his glory" till the posts of the door are moved at the wonder of the song. He sees the glory of the Coming of the Lord. He tells us the Lord is coming with fire and with His chariots like a whirlwind, to render His anger with fury, and His rebuke with flames of fire. Jeremiah announces the Lord is coming the Second time. When He comes He will make Jerusalem the throne of His glory. Unto it shall be the gathering of the nations. They shall gather unto it in the name of the Lord, and neither shall they walk any more after the imaginations of their evil heart. Ezekiel beholds the Lord seated on a throne high and lifted up. He sees Him coming out of the purple dawning of the east. He restores Jerusalem. He builds the temple till the shining spendour of it shall fill the promised land; and in a voice as the sound of many waters He says this temple shall be the place for the soles of His feet and thus rebukes those who try to keep Him from dwelling bodily in the land as though forsooth He should lose His heavenliness by so doing, forgetting that earth is His rightful home and is to be His eternal dwelling place. Yea and Amen when He comes to His own again He shall dwell in the midst of His ransomed forever. And the nations of the earth as they ascend to the heights of Jerusalem to behold His glory and to worship Him in His holy temple as they catch the first glimpse of the city, its gardens like unto the garden of the Lord, the temple with its shekinah cloud by day and the flaming fire by night that shall make it to be no more night but day, shall cry out, not "Jerusalem," but "Yaveh Shamma--the Lord is there." And from henceforth this shall be the name of the city. Daniel has visions in the night. He beholds the Lord as the Son of man, as eternal judge and king of all the earth. He sees Him coming to the Father to receive His title deeds and then descending in clouds of glory to establish the kingdom that shall never pass away. From Hosea to Malachi the Minor Prophets echo with the declaration the Lord is coming and always this coming is the Second. Hosea foresees Israel will forsake the Lord and for many days be as a dead man out of sight and forgotten. But in the latter times when the Lord Himself shall return Israel will awaken and own Him as Lord and king. Joel tells us the armies of the world league shall be gathered against Jerusalem and under their godless, Devil-incarnate head shall defy the Lord of hosts; that the Lord will come, overthrow them with a great slaughter and deliver the holy city from the treading down of the Gentiles forever. In Amos the Lord is coming to restore the kingdom to Israel and set up and establish the throne of David. Obadiah warns us of the day of the Lord, the day that is introduced by the Second Coming of the Lord. Joel teaches us under the madness and folly of Gentile rule ploughshares are to be beaten into swords and pruning hooks into spears and the nations are to give themselves to war and all the horror and desolation of it. But this Scripture is never quoted by those who preach peace where there can be no peace. Always they quote Micah who tells us the swords will be beaten into ploughshares, the spears into pruning hooks and the nations shall learn war no more. The two prophets seem to stand in absolute opposition to each other. They do not. Joel tells us what will happen just before the Lord comes. Micah tells us what will take place after the Lord comes. In Joel the Lord will come, meet the armies of the League in the valley of decision, the valley of Jehoshaphat, and overthrow them; then will the implements of war be beaten into the implements of peace and war be at an end forever. Micah announces the end of war and the beginning of lasting peace will come as the consequence of the Lord's appearing in glory and not till He does so appear. Nahum proclaims the Second Coming. The Lord's way shall be in the whirlwind and the storm, the clouds shall be the dust of His feet, the mountains shall quake at Him, the hills shall melt and the very earth burn at His presence. In Habakkuk the Spirit carries human language to its loftiest height till it glows on peaks of thought sublime. The prophet sees the Lord coming the Second time. His brightness is as the shining light. In His hands once pierced for such as we is the hiding of His power. Pestilence and burning coals are His vanguard. He stands and measures the earth. He drives asunder the nations. The everlasting mountains are scattered. The perpetual hills bow before Him and the inhabitants of the onlooking worlds lift up their voices and sing: "His ways are everlasting." Zephaniah proclaims the Second Coming. The Lord will come and smite the world league in the pitifulness of its gathering and the pigminess of its might. He will pour forth His indignation and fierce anger upon all the exaltation and pride of man. He will devour the earth with the fire of His jealousy, deliver Jerusalem, turn to the people the pure speech of the old Hebraic tongue, bid Zion to sing, Israel to shout and calling Jerusalem her daughter, bid her to rejoice. He will overthrow the false Christ and as the true Messiah will Himself dwell in the midst of Jerusalem forevermore. Haggai declares the Lord will come and will shake all nations so that only the things which are of God may remain. Zechariah tells us in terms so plain, so clear no one need misunderstand nor be in darkness for a moment that the Lord is coming the Second time. He will come with all His saints. His feet shall stand in that day on the Mount of Olives; and that no false teacher nor wilful perverter of the truth about the reality of the Lord's bodily presence on the earth at that time may have even the shadow of a shadow to rest on, and as a proof that this coming is not spiritual but actual and the testimony of His very feet under the most pronounced topographical conditions, the prophet says the mount on which those blessed and real feet shall descend is not only on the Mount of Olives, but that "Mount of Olives, which is before Jerusalem on the east." At the touch of the Lord's feet this wondrous and sacred Mount of Olives will split in twain. One half of it will roll like a wave northward. The other half will roll to the south. A great valley will be formed. That valley is named in Scripture, but never has been found on any map and cannot be found in Palestine to-day. It is the valley of Jehoshaphat, the valley of decision, the valley of judgment of the nations. And into this valley pell-mell shall rush the Antichrist-led and Devil-deceived armies of the league of ten nations to find their overthrow at the hand of the Lord and the inauguration of that hour when the once despised and crucified Christ shall be the revealed and recognized God of the whole earth; when there shall be one Lord and His name one--even that name which is above every name whether in heaven or on earth--the name of Jesus. Malachi closes the book of the Old Testament. He beholds our Lord Jesus Christ coming the Second time. He sees Him coming as the rising sun filling the heavens and flooding the earth with the benediction of His majesty and might. From Malachi to the New Testament we pass over four hundred years of prophetic silence and then we are in the book of the Gospel according to Matthew. Here we are face to face with the night of nights. The stars like silver squadrons sail close to the waiting earth. The angels fling down their wreath of natal song and the virgin mother cradles upon her white and unsullied breast the Christ of God. We follow Him in the days of His unfolding ministry. Every time He touches the earth His footsteps leave a benediction. Each time He breathes the air He sweetens it. His low and modulated voice starts a note of music whose rhythmic accents have not done sounding and whose heavenly harmony outsings the discords of earth. He looks daylight into blind eyes. He cools the fever pulse to quiet beating. He makes the lame man to leap as a hart. He hushes the storm on Galilee till the ruffled, windswept waters are as calm and peaceful as a babe upon its mother's breast. With a word He raises the wept -for dead. Everywhere and at all times His miracles are wrought, not merely that He may do good and bring needed blessings as He passes by, but as the credentials and sign warrant of the truthfulness of His claim that He is Son of God, God the Son, the Anointed of the Lord and Israel's king. But in all His ministry of hand or word never does He speak save incidentally of His first coming. Always and in fullest degree He speaks of His Second Coming. Seated upon the Mount of Olives He affirms, after the cross shall have slain and stained Him and the grave shall have briefly held Him He will come again; but, just before He comes it will be as it was in the days of Noah--a time of materialism, sensualism, the culture of self-consciousness, an hour of boasting, pride, lawlessness and war; and when He is revealed it will be as with the driving judgment of the flood. In the twenty-fifth chapter of Matthew and the first part of the chapter He declares He is coming as the bridegroom comes--seeking the marriage hour of his bride. In the last part of the chapter and as the climax of His bridegroom coming He will appear as the king of glory and the judge of the living nations. When He stands before His guilty judges and their suborned witnesses and while they mock and deride Him He breaks His hitherto amazing silence not to demonstrate to them the truth of His incarnation nor the proof of His preexistence, but in calm and measured utterance to tell them that after they shall have put Him to death He will come the Second time; and they shall see Him descending from heaven seated upon the cloud of shekinal glory and with the power of God. In Mark He is the householder who goes into a far country, gives to each of His servants a work to do, puts the porter on guard to watch the door of the house and announces that no one in heaven nor on earth knows when He will return. He will return, He will come the Second time. It will be in one of the four watches of the spiritual night. It may be at even, it may be at midnight, it may be at cockcrowing and it may be in the morning. Because it is certain He will come, but uncertain when He will come, each one who claims to be His servant is under bond to watch. The whole household must be in the attitude of watching, of readiness and expectation; and His word of exhortation and warning to His Church is: "What I say unto you, I say unto all--watch." In Luke He is the nobleman who goes into a far country to get the title deeds of His kingdom and return. When He returns He comes first to His servants, gathers them to Himself and rewards them. After that with them He executes judgment on His enemies and then sets up His kingdom. In the Gospel of John He eats with His disciples the last and memorial supper. He goes out with them, bids them lift their glances to the wide, extended sky where the jewelry of the night as the scattered largess of a king burns in the fire of opal, the purple and violet of amethyst and the white splendour of uncounted diamonds. He assures them these gleaming things are no fiction fire -flies of gaseous worlds in the making, but illuminated dwelling places in His Father's house. He is going thither. He will ascend into that congeries of inhabited worlds and will prepare a place for them, a glorious palace home befitting their high estate; when all is ready He will come back and receive them in corporate unity to Himself. His words are simple, but the simplicity is the simplicity of light and every accent is as the touch of peace to troubled hearts; for this is what He said: "In my Father's house are many mansions: if it were not so, I would have told you. I go to prepare a place for you. And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again, and receive you unto myself; that where I am, there ye may be also." In the book of Acts, in the first chapter you have a scene no artist has really ever painted, no writer ever fairly portrayed and no mortal tongue can fittingly describe. Our Lord is going up from the Mount of Olives. He is going up from the midst of His disciples. He is going heavenward. The disciples watch Him as He ascends. He enters a cloud. Do not, I beseech you, imagine for a moment this cloud is a fog bank, a mass of watery mist and vapour; it is the shekinal cloud which once covered the tabernacle in the wilderness and was the vehicle of His presence when Israel in that far time marched on their way to the promised land. It is His chariot of state. In this chariot sent to meet Him He passes between the onlooking worlds ever higher and higher till at last He takes His seat upon the throne of the Highest at the right hand of the invisible majesty. Then, as through the dimness of their tears the disciples watch Him disappear, they hear a voice which says to them: "Ye men of Galilee, why stand ye gazing up into heaven? This same Jesus, which is taken up from you into heaven, shall so come in like manner as ye have seen him go into heaven." "This same Jesus." Mark that well! The Jesus who on the Sunday night of His resurrection did meet these disciples in the upper room and said to them as they shrank back into a frozen silence of hope and fear: "Peace be unto you." "Why are ye troubled?" "And why do thoughts arise in your hearts?" "Behold my hands and my feet, that it is I myself: handle me and see; for a spirit hath not flesh and bones, as ye see me have." Still these disciples were afraid, afraid it could not be true. Then He showed them His hands and His feet that they might see where the nails had gone in, torn through the flesh and left eternal wounds as the chevrons of glory. And still the silence of hope mingled with fear. Then he said: "Have ye here any meat?" And they gave Him a piece of a broiled fish, and of an honeycomb. And He took and did eat before them. He had said to them He was flesh and bones, not flesh and blood. He was not flesh and blood because in the sin-offering all the blood must be poured out at the bottom of the altar, and He was Himself the antitypical sin-offering. He had poured out His blood. It had run as a living stream from every vein and artery. Because He was the sin-offering in death, in resurrection He became for the first time a priest--high priest after the order, not of Aaron, but Melchisedec. That very morning as the high priest He had ascended to heaven, within the vail, and sprinkled His redeeming blood (how is not revealed) on the eternal throne, changing it from the throne of judgment to a throne of grace. That night He stood before them He was their high priest, not of earth, but heaven. He breathed upon them, imparted to them the Holy Spirit--the Comforter--linking them to His immortal body. He remained with them, going and coming, during forty days, operating with them officially by and through the Holy Spirit as His unseen executive; for we are told that, "until the day he was taken up he through the Holy Ghost had given commandments unto the apostles;" and then, finally, as this scene in the book of Acts shows us, ascended to His high-priestly function and unceasing service of intercession. He is seated in heaven now, seated there as the same Jesus who met His disciples that first Sunday night, the same Jesus who ascended out of their midst from Olivet. This same Jesus! The same not only in realistic, human body, but the same in character, full of the same measureless compassion and grace as when He sat on the well curb in Samaria and though thirsting as a real man for real water offered to give to the sinful woman who by divine and eternal ordination met him there, the water that should be in her as a well of water springing up into everlasting life. This same Jesus is coming again, not a phantom, not an impalpable spirit, not a ghost Christ, but a Christ who is a real man of real flesh and real bones. This is the key-note of the book of Acts. He who died for men, who has sanctioned the Holy Spirit to operate in His name, speak in His name, reveal to us the things that are His and show us things to come concerning Him, He is coming again, coming not only as very God, the Holy One of Israel, He who has been exalted to be both Lord and Christ, but as this loving, tender, compassionate Jesus, and in a body that may be seen and handled--a body of flesh and bones. In Romans we have the promise the Lord is coming to bruise Satan under His feet and the feet of His saints; and according to the calendar of heaven and the way in which they measure time there this great event must come to pass, as it is written, "shortly." In First Corinthians the Lord is coming to raise the dead who shall be His "at his coming." In Second Corinthians He is coming to transfigure the living who believe in Him and thus clothe them with their "house from heaven," give them the body that shall be the handiwork of God and not man. In Philippians our citizenship is in a country which is in heaven from whence we are to look for a Saviour, even the Lord Jesus Christ, who shall change this body of our mortal humiliation that it may be fashioned like unto His immortal and glorious body, a change which He will effectuate by that mighty power according to which He is able to subdue all things unto Himself. In Colossians our life is hid with Christ in God, a double environment of security, and when Christ who is our life shall appear, we shall appear with Him also in glory. In the epistles to the Thessalonians each chapter closes with a testimony to the Second Coming. In the first epistle in the first chapter the Apostle commends the Thessalonian Church because they had turned to God from idols to serve the living and true God and to wait for His Son from heaven. From the beginning the Apostle Paul taught the new converts the next possible event might be the Coming of that Lord whom he had declared had been sacrificed for them, was now risen and in heaven. This was the one supreme thing for which they were to be in readiness every day--the Second Coming of our Lord Jesus Christ. In the second chapter he assures the Thessalonians he will meet them in the presence of the Lord at His Coming; when He comes and they are all gathered before Him, saved through the Gospel Paul has preached to them in the demonstration of the Spirit and power, they will be the guarantee and occasion of the crown he shall receive. In the third chapter he exhorts them to increase and abound in love to one another that their hearts may be established unblameable in holiness before the Lord when He shall come the Second time with all His saints. In the fourth chapter he announces as a special revelation from the Lord that the Lord Himself is coming to awaken those whom He has put to sleep in His name. He will descend from heaven with a shout, with the voice of the archangel and the trump of God. The dead in Him shall rise first, then we who are alive and remain shall be caught up with them in clouds to meet the Lord in the air; so shall we ever be with the Lord and with one another. In the fifth chapter the Coming of the Lord for His saints as just noted in the fourth and preceding chapter will bring in the day of the Lord; and we further learn this coming for the saints not only precedes the day of the Lord, but as the introduction to it will be as secret, sudden and unknown to the world as is in general the coming of a thief. In the second epistle, in the first chapter the Lord is seen coming with all His saints to execute judgment on the ungodly and the unbelieving. In the second chapter we learn the word, "Rapture," so often given as the name and title for the translation of the Church to meet the Lord, while it may be a deducible truth and exegetically, or, rather philologically sustained, is not the Holy Ghost title. The true and Scriptural title is: "Our gathering together unto Him." In this chapter we learn also when the Church has been gathered to the Lord in heaven the man of sin, the Antichrist will be revealed; then will the Lord appear in glory, overthrow him and his league of nations and set up the heaven-ordained kingdom of righteousness and peace. In the third chapter the Apostle prays the Lord may direct their hearts into the love of God and into--patient waiting for Christ. In the First Epistle to the Thessalonians the Lord comes FOR His Church. In the Second Epistle to the Thessalonians He comes WITH His Church. In First Timothy He is coming that He may be shown forth as the blessed and only Potentate, the King of kings, and Lord of lords. In Second Timothy He is coming to judge the quick and the dead and to give reward to all those who love His appearing. Titus gives us the inspired and official title of the Coming of our Lord Jesus Christ as, "That Blessed Hope." In Hebrews we see this age is the antitypical Day of Atonement; just as at the close of the day in Israel the people were waiting for the man who led away the scapegoat into the wilderness to come back without it as evidence their typical redemption was complete and secure for another year; just so our Lord Jesus Christ having appeared in the end of the age to put away sin by the sacrifice of Himself, reconcile the world to God and bring in the day of grace and salvation, to them that look for Him shall He come the "second time, without sin, unto salvation"; that is, He will come back not as the sin offering, but as the triumphant Redeemer and as witness that our redemption will then be completed by Him in the immortal bodies He shall give us. James testifies that in the closing hours of this age Capital and Labour will look at each other with wrinkled brows, clenched hands and nervous, impatient expectation. He exhorts the Christian labourer to be patient because, as he says, "the Coming of the Lord draweth nigh," is so near, so imminent He standeth as a judge--verily "at the door"--and ready to intervene. In the First Epistle of Peter the Lord is coming to justify the faith of His elect. In the Second Epistle He is coming to bring in the new heavens and the new earth. In the First Epistle of John we who believe are sons of God. It is not yet manifested to the world what we really are, nor what we shall be; but we know when He shall appear we shall be like Him for we shall see Him as He is. When He shines out we shall shine out with Him. We are told every one who has this hope in him, purifieth himself even as he is pure. And thus in this special fashion the Holy Spirit affirms the Second Coming of our Lord Jesus Christ is not only the climacteric of our avouchment as sons of God, but, when held as a hope in the heart, will keep us pure and clean as the Holy Christ Himself. In the Second Epistle of John we are warned false teachers will abound; teachers who shall deny the eternal incarnation of the Son of God. They will deny He is coming the Second time; but, above all, they will deny He could possibly come in the flesh. The Apostle unhesitatingly affirms those who hold and teach this falsehood are nothing less than antichrists; and he warns us as faithful followers of the true Christ not to receive them into our houses, nor bid them Godspeed. Jude is the smallest, that is to say, the shortest, of all the epistles. It is a clasp between the Old and the New Testaments. Jude tells us Enoch the seventh man who lived on the earth testified, not of the first, but the Second Coming, saying: "Behold, the Lord cometh with ten thousands of his saints." Then we find ourselves in the Revelation. This is the book of the Consummation. The supreme subject is the Second Coming. There are twenty-two chapters. Each of the chapters portrays conditions and circumstances leading up to the great climax--the Second Coming and the immense and measureless consequences--the millennial reign and the eternal state. The book is like the roof of a great cathedral, like the interior of the roof, groined and panelled--each panel a chapter. It is like the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel in which, however, may be found figures and forms such as Michel Angelo never drew nor such even as his imperial and suggestive mind could conceive. You will find in these chapters the figures of wild beasts, the dragon, fallen angels, fiends from the pit, that old Serpent called the Devil and Satan. If you will read and listen you will hear the blast of trumpets, the breaking of vials, the sounds of woe, the tramp of marching feet, the clash of battle, fire falling out of the heavens, trees and grass in flame, the waves of the sea turned to blood, fountains and streams become as wormwood and gall, the sun as black as a starless midnight, the moon hanging in the lowering heavens like a clot of blood, earthquakes, the scarlet tongues of outpouring volcanoes, thunderings and lightnings, all manner of wickedness and pervading sin, a world quivering as a ship in the storm, the bending heavens as though unbolted and insecure, all foundations apparently shattered and the universe itself as though rushing forward to its funeral pyre. Heaven opens and the Lord comes forth riding a white horse, followed by armies on white horses, the horses the symbols of His power, each hoof beat as it smites the slant of heaven the sound of swift descending judgment. On the Lord's head are many crowns. He is wrapped in a garment dyed in blood. His eyes are as a flame of fire. His glances penetrate to the secret intents and purposes of the heart. They get behind every cloak of deception and every pretense. All the spotted nakedness of interior and intensive sin is revealed. Nothing remains in shadow, everything is illuminated to bareness, and the searching light of His looks goes through every fibre of being. He is coming to reign and rule. All the things the chapters record have been driving us to look forward to that; the woe, the anguish and the hell on earth have been pleading and crying out for a master to master and put an end to the cataclysms of catastrophic iniquity; the very nature of things has been testifying that He must come. He is responding to the demand that lies in the nature of things. He is coming to reign and rule as a king. He is not coming with an olive branch in one hand and a cooing dove on His shoulder. Nay! He is coming with a rod of iron. He is coming to trample all opposition beneath His feet, put down all rule and authority, break to pieces and shatter as a potter's vessel the pride of nations and the self-exaltation of man. He is coming to establish peace, but not by means of compromise, by gentle and persuasive ways, but by war and as a man of war, as the man who is very God and judge omnipotent. The book closes with the thrice repeated announcement from the Lord Himself: "Behold, I am coming quickly." This is the last utterance of the Lord from heaven. To this the Church replies with its last recorded prayer: "Amen, even so, come, Lord Jesus." When you close the book you feel the next thing is--the Coming of the Lord. If the value of a statement or doctrine is to be measured by the number of times repeated, then, since from Genesis to Revelation, in every form of human language the Second Coming is proclaimed, is stamped upon almost every page of the Bible, is inwrought with every fibre of truth it finally presents; since in the New Testament alone it is mentioned directly and indirectly more than three hundred times, as there is no other theme in the Bible that approaches it in frequency of repetition, it should seem that this event and doctrine of the Second Coming with all its promises and certified consequences should easily be of supreme and all-compelling importance; and because the Holy Spirit has made it of such importance I am under bonds to preach it. Those who persist in saying it is incidental, secondary and sporadic might well be said to be of that class of theological disputants who never study their Bible; for the fact is should you cut out every reference to the Second Coming, its cognate truths and all the events to which it gives emphasis, you would have but a fragment of the Bible; and the Book upon which faith is founded, from which hope casts its glances heavenward, sees light in the grave and immortality assured, would be but as a broken reed, a garment of beauty torn and shredded, or as a harp whose main chord had been snapped asunder. II The Second Coming of Our Lord Jesus Christ is Bound up With Every Fundamental Doctrine, Every Sublime Promise and Every Exhortation to High, to Holy and Practical Christian Living IT is bound up with every fundamental doctrine. The resurrection from the dead, the transfiguration of the living, the judgment seat of Christ, the judgment of the living nations, the consequent judgment of the white throne, the rewards of the righteous and the punishment of the wicked. It is bound up with every sublime promise. The recognition of the dead, the overthrow of Satan, the deliverance of creation, the triumph of God and Christ and the eternal felicity of the saints. It is bound up with every exhortation to high, to holy and practical Christian living. We are not to forsake the assembling of ourselves together as the manner of some is. On the Lord's day we are to break bread and drink the fruit of the vine, show forth the Lord's death and make known to heaven and to earth that the only ground of approach to a holy God is the sacrificial offering and vicarious sufferings of the Son of God and God the Son, and that on the ground of His atoning blood as our sin offering and personal substitute we claim Him as redeemer, saviour and interceding priest. We are to love God and love one another. We are not to judge one another. We are not to cast stumbling blocks in each other's path. We are to walk worthy of our vocation. We are to let our moderation be known to all men. We are to be patient, long-suffering and forbearing. We are to engage continually in prayer and supplication. We are to live blamelessly before men and holily before God. As pastors we are to shepherd the sheep over whom God has made us to be overseers. We are to feed the flock, not with the philosophies and fictions of men, but with the truth of God. We are to restore the wandering, sustain the weak and comfort the sorrowing. We are to go to the house of mourning and give consolation to those who are Christians and who weep above their Christian dead. As preachers we are to preach the Word. We are to preach in season and out of season, and to exhort with all long-suffering and doctrine. We are exhorted to this high, this holy, this exalted and practical Christian living, this reincarnation of Christ in daily experience, this translation of His character, this manifestation of His guiding and ruling presence, not by the fact that we must die and appear before God, but by the fact the Lord Himself is coming, may come at any time, that any moment we may meet Him at His judgment seat. In all the universe of God there is nothing so impressive as the thought that you, that I, that we must give a personal account to God for the manner in which we have used our time, our talent, our opportunity and substance; and when we are told--as we are told in Holy Scripture--that any moment we may be summoned to give an account of our stewardship, and that without dying, just suddenly, without a moment's warning, translated bodily and with all the sense of the daily life we have been living upon us into the presence of Him whose name we have been professing--impressiveness has reached its ultimate and exhortation the fullest leverage of appeal. And he who says the Coming of Christ considered as a doctrine, as a truth or a motive, is not intensely practical and all-compelling to Christian devotion and service, is either blindly and excuselessly ignorant of the Word of God or brutally and perversely guilty of denying a truth that flashes like lightning from one end of the Bible to the other and illuminates every hortative passage in the Word of God. When thus you are face to face with the indisputable fact that every basic doctrine of the Christian faith, every outshining promise of hope, of comfort, of consolation, of abiding peace, every appeal to the noblest and purest life as a Christian, every demand that the Christian shall unceasingly be the light of heaven in the spiritual darkness of earth is bound up inextricably with the fact of the Second Coming, it carries with it the inevitable corollary that the Second Coming of our Lord Jesus Christ as a certified and imminent event is the very sum and substance of all available motives that can lead to a life of practical service to God and man. III Only at the Coming of Our Lord Jesus Christ Will Redemption be Complete and the Blood of the Cross be Justified OUR Lord Jesus Christ did not come into this world that He might go through the unspeakable horror of the cross; He did not hang on that brutal and torturing instrument of death as the criminal of the universe; He did not receive the down sweep of the essential antagonism of a holy God against the sin He represented; He did not cry the cry of the lost, "My God, My God, why hast thou forsaken me?"; He was not flung out like a derelict thing into the black, starless night of God's inexorable law, measureless wrath and indignation where His humanity unanchored and alone was forsaken both by God and man; He did not hang there in the torment of His body, suffering all the agony the most exquisitely wrought, nerve -centered body of the universe could suffer of physical pain and anguish; God did not make Him to be sin and treat Him as the blackest and most repulsive thing in existence; He did not lay upon Him the weight and demerit of a world's guilt that He might suffer in His innocence, His purity and innate sinlessness on behalf of the vilest outcast this side of Gehenna, the lake of fire, just that He might keep us from lying, cheating, swearing, getting drunk, giving ourselves up to immorality, licentiousness and sensualism; He did not send Jesus Christ His only begotten and well-beloved Son to die a spectacle to heaven, to earth and hell that He might make us merely decent and right and morally correct in our relations to one another. All that is involved in the fact of redemption just as fragrance is involved and included in the rose, as harmony is expected to be a part of music and rhythm as well as metre a part of verse and song. Cleanness and morality are involved quantities in a Christian. The moment the new life of the risen Christ is wrought in a believer and he is linked up by the Holy Ghost to the glorified body of the Son of God he has in him all the impulse and power of the highest morality, the most exalted purity, the rarest spirituality and the discernment of spiritual things. All that is self-evident--but the Son of God came into this world and went through the amazing tragedy and sacrifice of the cross to do something more than to make us merely moral and good. He came into the world, He died the foreordained death of the cross that He might deliver us from death and the grave. Death is the blackest and most shameful blot on the face of the earth, the grave the most repulsive of scandals, drawing the trench of its corruption and stain round the girdle of the globe. To bring a human being into the world, give him no choice of father or mother, of place, of time and circumstance, endow him with a brain to think, a heart to feel and love and then set him face to face with death, hide from him the hour of his going like a criminal who knows not the hour of his execution; to allow the old to live till they are withered, shrivelled and helpless, a burden to others and a still greater burden to themselves, cursing the fact they must live and yet afraid to die; to take a young man in the splendour of his youth, on the threshold of assured success, snatch him away without warning from the parents devoted to him, the wife who loves him and the children dependent on him; and then leave them both, the decrepit and useless old and the needed young to drop into the tongueless silence of the grave, that silence broken only by the sound of the clods as they fall on the coffin lid or the plash of tears, or the choking sob; to allow the living whose hearts are torn and twisted and smashed by the robbery that death brings upon them to stand there and strangle themselves with the unanswered and unanswerable questions: "Whence," "What," and "Whither," and then say all this is the work of a good, a compassionate, a tender and loving God, and that death is as natural as birth? Nay! Those who say and teach that death is as natural as birth are guilty of pure unintellectualism and are unwarranted deniers of the facts. The birth of a child is like the coming of the dawn. It is like the note of a new and joyous song. It is the revelation of a new world, a world of life, of hope, of promised and larger activities. No one who is sane and true and wise will deliberately seek to hinder birth; but death! ah! everything is against death and by right against it. Every fibre in the body repudiates death. Pain is the protest of life against it and the scout that brings in news of its approach. The brain, the mind, the heart shiver at it, not merely because of the native fear at the unknown, but at the mockery it makes of life, the uselessness of living a time, at the longest, so brief, so full of disappointment and bitterness, a life where plans are never accomplished nor hopes fulfilled, where tears and sorrow outweigh laughter and song. Every remedy taken from materia medica, every operation of the surgeon's knife that adds even a day to the sufferer's existence, every hospital, every precaution and invention to prevent accident, all the genius exercised by man to conserve health and strength are a protest against death and a proclamation that it is unnatural, a discord and a wrong. Every human being who has the slightest pulse of sentiment, who is not sunken in the soddenness of moral unconsciousness feels that death is the shadow shutting out the sun of day and hiding the stars of night, the false note that breaks the lilt in any song, the thief who takes the treasure no money can replace, the mocker who bids us readjust our days and live as though those whom we have loved and lost had never been a part of us, so that their going has put more of death in those of us who remain to live than life--even the brute beast feels and knows death is--an enemy. Nor does God Himself leave us in any doubt about it. He says death is an enemy; even as it is written: "The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death." And since in itself it is an enemy, it is, necessarily, the work of an enemy. It is the work of an enemy who has the power of death. He who has the power of death is--the Devil; even as it is written: "Him that had the power of death, that is, the devil." The Son of God came into the world that He might destroy the Devil and his work of death. He came to abolish death and bring life and immortality to light. He came to make us something more than--just moral. He came to make us--immortal. There is only one man in the universe who has immortality; and that man is He who is our Lord Jesus Christ, very God and yet true and actual man. There is not an immortal human being on earth to-day. There is no such thing as an immortal soul. But here I bid you halt! Let no one take up this statement and go hence and say I teach the final annihilation of the soul. He who should go forth and say that would be, after what I shall further tell you, a robber of truth and character. On this round earth at this hour there is no man who has spoken more, written more and, under God, done more to rebuke and smite this slavering, slobbering, unintellectual and Devil-inspired deception known as Russellism, Christadelphianism and Seventh Day Adventism than the man who now speaks to you. I affirm here that by the will of God the soul must exist forever whether it be in heaven or in hell; but, I say to you the preacher who seeks to deny and overthrow the doctrine of annihilation by defending the immortality of the soul is beaten before he begins. He has his pains for his labour. He can find no such expression as "immortal soul" in the Bible nor any such doctrine taught there. Above all, he is guilty of excuseless philological blundering. The soul is immaterial. Immortal is applied to that which is material. The words, "immortal," and "immortality" are never applied in the New Testament to the soul--never! but always and exclusively to the body. To be immortal means to have a deathless, incorruptible body like unto that of the Son of God. This, and this alone--as related to man--is Scriptural immortality. The Son of God came into the world to give this boon of immortality to men. This is the supreme objective of redemption. Till that objective is obtained redemption is not complete and the blood of the cross is not justified. Do you call the redemption of Paul complete so long as his body lies mingled with the dust of the highway by the banks of that yellow Tiber where he was slain? Do you call complete the redemption of those you love and I love so long as the Devil like the strong man armed with the law holds the mortgage on their bodies and keeps them in his dark and worm-filled house--the grave? It is true, blessedly true, thank God, the moment a believer dies he is absent from his home in the body and immediately present at his home with the Lord in the third heaven, in the beautiful country of Paradise, in the Holy City, the place prepared. It is true the dear departed ones are clothed with the white robe of immaculate light woven on the unjarring looms of heaven, a temporary clothing which preserves their form and makes them visible and recognizable to one another; but with it all they are disembodied, and in spite of the comfort and the consolation of it, in spite of the fact that their state is "far better" than this at its best, still they are souls whose vehicle is no longer body, but spirit (wherefore after death they are sometimes spoken of as spirits); nevertheless, the Son of God did not come to make us eternal, even if happy--ghosts. If Christians should continue to die and should remain as white clothed ghosts in heaven forever they would be an incongruous environment and abiding scandal to the immortality of the Son of God Himself. A living, immortal man shining in a glorified human body surrounded by bodiless souls forever! What a contradiction that would be, what a scandal, indeed. It would be the declaration that the Son of God had power to rise from the dead, make His own body immortal, impervious to death, but in respect to those for whom He died and who died trusting in His promise He either did not have the power or did not care to keep His promise. Such a conclusion in either member of the proposition is impossible. It is impossible, for no such postulate as inability or faithlessness can be laid against the Son of God. By His own immortality as the first-fruits of them that slept, as the ordained forerunner and sample of all those whom He has redeemed He is, and in the nature of things, under bonds to give immortality to each, to raise the dead and transfigure the living in His likeness. As the dead can be raised and the living changed only when He is personally present then He must come to this world again to give that immortality of which seated on yonder throne in heaven He is the promise and the pledge. He made this promise by the grave of Lazarus. Standing there with His cheeks wet with tears of sorrow over the one He loved and in profound sympathy with the grief-stricken sisters, groaning in Himself, not merely as one who was under the spell of sorrow and heartache, but full of "indignant protest" (this is the meaning of the word "to groan") against the havoc of death as the work of that being whom we so familiarly call "Devil," without stopping to measure his dignity, malignity and power, He said: "I am the resurrection and the life; he that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live: And whosoever liveth and believeth in me shall never die." Wondrous, gracious, far reaching and full of measureless comfort is the promise, but nine out of ten who repeat it seem never to have comprehended the full import of it. For this is what He meant. Listen to it as I quote it in its fullness of intent: "I am the resurrection and the life: he that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet--when I come again--shall he live: And whosoever liveth and believeth in me--when I come again--shall never die." Nor is this a fictional fancy of mine, but the direct declaration of the Holy Spirit to the Church speaking through the Apostle Paul; for he says: "Behold, I shew you a mystery: we shall not all sleep, but we shall all be changed, In a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trump; for the trumpet shall sound, and the dead shall be raised incorruptible, and we shall be changed. For this corruptible must put on incorruption, and this mortal must put on immortality. So when this corruptible shall have put on incorruption and this mortal shall have put on immortality, then (and not till then--not when we die and go to heaven, but when the dead are raised and the living are changed--then--and not till then) shall be brought to pass the saying that is written (written by the Prophet Isaiah in the twenty-fifth chapter of his prophecy), death is swallowed up in victory. O death, where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory?" And mark it well, the context of this Holy Ghost promise is the declaration that the resurrection of the dead, the transfiguration of the living, this changing from mortality to immortality will be the resurrection and the transfiguration of those who are "Christ's at His coming." Yes! He will come. He will descend from heaven with a shout of command. He will pass it on to the archangel. The archangel will pass it to the angel who is called the "trump of God." He will cause a sound, a blast, an utterance of power at which the doors of graves of every sort shall open outward, every secret hiding place of the purchased dead will be revealed and the sacred dust will bloom with life; for, in the body of every regenerated soul there is planted the germ of the new body; and just as the buried seed is linked by the unseen air to the fructifying sun in heaven and as at a given moment we call the germination is quickened and at last comes forth in new form yet the same essential embodiment as when planted; so, the regeneration nucleus of the new body is held by the Holy Spirit (of which the air is the symbol) to the risen, glorified body of the Son of God in heaven; and no matter what may befall the body in which it was buried it will abide to that hour we call the resurrection and transfiguration and at the shout, the voice and action of the trump of God will come forth in the glow of unfolded and eternal beauty as the sheath, the house, the home, the perfect dwelling place, the royal robe of the souls the Lord shall bring with Him; while the living shall flash forth in the same immortality and glory. Yes! the dust of death shall bloom and mortality shall put on immortality at the Coming of the Lord. And I for one want Him to come. I have loved ones waiting within the gates of the upper city for that morning hour. I have one there my heart in these days yearns to see. But a short time ago death with rude and sudden hand snatched from me my only child, the son of my heart; a son grown to splendid young manhood; a son who loved me, reverenced me, believed as I believe, a member of my own Church, baptized by my own hand in early days: a son on whom I hoped to lean in peace if the shadows should deepen round me ere my Lord might come. And in the going of that beloved son of mine the light of day has seemed at times to fail, the stars of heaven have grown so dim and far away I think of them often as tears of distant eyes that pity me. There are moments when I crave him as a hungry man does food and as a thirsty man in desert ways yearns for a draught of limpid waters. I have a hurt here in the heart of me no medicine of earth can cure; but because I know when the Lord comes this son of mine shall rise and I shall meet him and the old glad life renew in larger, richer, fuller measure; and because I know there is only the sound of the trump between me and that longed-for hour; that the door of heaven is always ajar and my Lord may come at any moment and bring us to the hand clasp and the love embrace again, I bear my hurt, I rest in the Lord and preach this blessed hope to other hearts that ache--the Coming of Him who is the resurrection and the life and whose last earthward utterance to His Church is: "Behold, I come quickly." IV Not Till Our Lord Jesus Christ Comes the Second Time Will the Church be Exalted into Her True Function of Rulership Over the World THE Church was not sent into the world to convert or Christianize it. It was sent into the world to preach the Gospel to every creature. It was not to condone the world but to condemn it. With its twin doctrines of Incarnation and Regeneration it was to ring the knell of evolution and deny the hope of any saving energy in the flesh. It was not to flatter, to paint, to gild nor endeavour in any wise to reform or organize the world. It was to deal with the world, with the system called the world, as a ship pounding to pieces, and pounding helplessly, upon the rocks of fallen human nature, the dethronement of God in the soul and the enthronement and exaltation of self-interest in the soul. The Church in its ministry and widely commissioned effort was to plunge, as a well-equipped and perfectly manned life-boat may do, into the sea and surf of natural and Satanic things and get men out of an old system under the doom and judgment of God into Christ as the head of a new system under grace and the coming glory of God. The Church was not to build up a kingdom during the absence of the Lord. On the contrary, she was to recognize herself as the affianced bride of a rejected king and coming bridegroom. She was to walk in separation from the world, refusing the seductive enticements of her would-be lovers and with an upward and heavenly look serve while she waited for a returning Lord. The Lord did not come. The Church grew weary of her vigil. She exchanged the heavenly for the earthly look. She met the Devil and felt the magic of his bewitching glances. He had led her Lord to the mount of temptation. He had shown Him all the kingdoms of the world and their glory. He offered them to Him on condition that He would turn His feet out of the pathway that led to the sacrificial cross. He offered them on condition that He should refuse to go to the cross and there in the agony of His soul and body and on the loom of His vicarious sufferings weave the seamless robe of divine righteousness for sinful men. The Lord refused. The Devil turned and slew Him. He now led the willing Church to the same mountain height of temptation. He tempted her with the same temptation he had offered her Lord: The rulership of the world. If she would turn aside from a heaven-ordained bridegroom and a king whose face she could not see, she might win the world as her kingdom and rule it in spite of the cross. The offer of world rulership sounded pleasant in her ears. She yielded. She fell into the arms of the world. The world became her paramour. She became the world's mistress. Out of that ungodly and sensual alliance was born the illegitimate child, that woful ecclesiastical offspring, we call the Roman Catholic Church. The Roman Catholic Church became the Holy Roman Empire. The Empire was the Church. For long and dismal ages the Roman Church exhibited to perfection the evil, the folly and fatality of that false and deceptive proposition that the Church is the kingdom of Christ on earth. Then came the Reformation. It so smote the Catholic Church that men imagined the tiara to be broken, crushed and scattered to the winds forever. They were mistaken. It came from underneath that blow almost as if it had risen from the dead. To-day it is more populous than ever, having a membership of at least two hundred millions. It has a more intensely emphasized solidarity. It is filled with enthusiasm, with ever-increasing arrogance and persistent aggression. It is the religious incubus of the hour, the spiritual paralysis of nations and their most dangerous political menace. With brazen effrontery and calculating boldness it has its clutch upon the throat of this Republic, controls its government from the Presidential office down through army and navy, has open mass in the shipyards of the latter, in camp and barracks its priests are masters and its wily knights of Columbus have obtained governmental favours and consideration the Young Men's Christian Association would not dare to claim. It rules your cities, holds the balance of political power and can, when it will, elect a President, and will promptly do so when the candidate for that high office shall be willing, as already it has been done by the present occupant of that office, to visit the Vatican or officially recognize the civil as well as religious authority of the Pope or receive the Apostolic delegate of the Papal See. The clutch of Romanism with its strangle hold is on the throat of what remains of Protestantism. Protestantism is the after birth of the Reformation. Protestantism repudiated all the temporalities of Rome but held on to the proposition that the Church is the kingdom of Christ on earth. Protestantism is to-day broken up into multiplying fragments. If there be any unity remaining in it it is the unity that comes from the compromising denial of the convictions that led to the original break into fragments; a unity that hopes to maintain itself by classifying many of its former convictions as "non-essentials" and thus constitutes a combination that must become more and more colourless and inefficient in respect to doctrine. Some of its theological institutions are nothing better than clearing houses of infidelity and the curricula made up of Jericho theology. It has universities in which many of the professors have been graduated in Germany, having passed through the poison gas factory of the Berlin university, and under the camouflage department of "sacred literature" are sending out the mentally and spiritually asphyxiating poison of German rationalism, inoculating every fresh lot of newly made ministers and would-be missionaries with rank unbelief and Bible repudiation, distributing the poison into the back counties as well as municipal centers until there are scores of men who once stood for a whole Gospel and a certified Word of God who now stand first on one foot then on the other debating with themselves whether this Scripture that was once considered holy and sufficient is after all a revelation from God or an invention of man. A large number of men who are at the front in the teaching, the management, the organization and control of the churches of the different denominations repudiate practically every fundamental doctrine of the Christian faith. They deny the Virgin birth. The denial of the Virgin birth puts a stain upon the mother of Jesus as of a woman who has broken wedlock and sends her son forth as a bastard, an illegitimate who had no legal right to come into the world; and then illogically, if not hypocritically, those who deny it bid us take this son and make Him the exemplar of righteousness, forgetting or ignoring the self-evident fact that if, indeed, He had but a human and natural father then was He bred in sin and unfit to be set up as the supreme standard of righteousness and holiness among men. There are those who deny the sacrificial character of the death of the cross. They repudiate atonement by the shedding of blood. When we tell them it is written without shedding of blood there is no remission and it is the blood of Jesus Christ, God's Son, that alone cleanseth from all sin they fling up their hands in protest, tell us we are to be numbered among the figures of the past and that the theology we seek to maintain is the theology of the butcher shop, the barbarous doctrine of the shambles and the shadow of old -time tribal gods whose vengefulness and wrath could be appeased only by the murder of a victim. They repudiate the doctrine of the bodily resurrection of the Lord. His body has long ago mingled with the dust of Palestine and been blown afar by careless winds. If He rose at all it was as the principle of righteousness and truth, whatever such a resurrection may mean. They will no longer tolerate the insistent need of regeneration. It has been said that "if a man is well born the first time he does not need to be born the second time." In the nature of the case such teaching rejects our Lord's bodily ascension to heaven and His session as a glorified man who is very God at the right hand of the Father. Above all, and as a further consequent of such an attitude, teachers of this class repudiate with an almost hysterical outcry, not only the thought that the Lord will come a second time to this world, but that those who love Him and yearn to see Him will ever behold Him coming in visible glory so that they may stand face to face with Him and get the very touch of His hands upon them in the vital benediction for which they are longing. These advanced teachers repudiate the Bible as the inspired, infallible, inerrant Word of God, The Pentateuch, the writings of Moses, is a bundle of folk lore, Moses himself a fiction no more substantial than Abraham, Isaac and Jacob. The historic books of the Old Testament are unreliable and therefore not history at all. The book of the prophet Isaiah instead of one author has many, each in turn contradicting the other. The book of Ezekiel from its incomprehensible wheels as they flash by the banks of the river Chebar to the impossible temple and its animal offerings with the ever-deepening river flowing out of it, is as mystic as the amazing cherubim which the prophet seeks, but apparently fails, to describe. The prophecies of Daniel were written long after the events they pretend to foretell. From Genesis to Malachi the Old Testament is in reality the mixed history of a tribal people with a national god whose attributes and demands are no more authentic and authoritative than those of the gods of Greece and Rome. The New Testament while a degree of advance on the Old by reason of the progress of the times and the more cultivated environment of its origin is not a whit more divinely inspired. The three Synoptic Gospels are witnesses summoned to court where their success is the contradiction and confusion of the story they attempt to tell. The book of Acts is a combination pamphlet put together by the followers of Peter and Paul as an attempt to compromise between the one who was the Apostle to the Circumcision and the other who was the Apostle to the Gentiles. The epistles of Paul are filled with the pernicious influence of apocalyptic, Jewish fictions and the crass concept the Apostle had of the kingdom of Christ. Page after page is filled with proof that he expected the Lord to come in his day and was sorely mistaken, making that confession at the close of his writings and turning his attention to death and the grave, no longer having expectation of the Coming of the Lord as the daily hope of the Church. It is these palpable errors of Paul, his honest, but undoubted mistakes that are wholly responsible for that strange thing (so the Post-millennialists think it) known as Pre-millennialism, a system of teaching which stands for a whole Bible, a Gospel of redeeming blood, a risen and actually coming Saviour, coming again in the flesh, and seeks with an insistent and constant "thus saith the Lord" to win the souls of men to a grace-given and grace-dealing Saviour. (And I may say in passing that Paul, under God, is undoubtedly responsible for this doctrine so persistent and aggressive, this doctrine of Premillennialism.) To the advanced theological professor Revelation is a piece of crazy quilt patchwork, so full of symbols that have no intelligent meaning, symbols that can be interpreted by twenty different expositors in twenty different ways, is so full of monsters and nightmare doings that only an unbalanced mind could have written it and one equally unbalanced would alone attempt to decipher it. To these teachers and leaders who count themselves as progressive followers of the Christ of God, who practically set aside the matter of miracles as no more worthy of credence than the stories of Alice in Wonderland, the final place of the deposit of authority is in the individual and subconscious mind. These professors, teachers and leaders to a large degree are an expression of Protestantism. Protestantism to-day stands for everything in general and nothing in particular, except its protest against being definite and particular. It has thrown eschatology overboard. It no longer has any interest in hereafter things. There may be a holy city in heaven; it does not know, it will not affirm for nor against; but it does know there are unholy cities on earth. The streets of the upper city may be paved with gold; it will not enter into controversy about it; but it is certain the streets down here are paved with poor asphalt and trodden by footsore and weary men. Heaven may be more desirable than earth. The condition there may be a great advance on this. Advanced thinkers in Protestantism will neither affirm nor deny that; but they are convinced the conditions down here should be made much better and if possible even that of heaven on earth. The truth is, both heaven and hell, like angelology, have fallen out of modern theology. Heaven is too high and hell too deep. No telescope has ever revealed the one and modern sweetness, gentleness and light repudiate the cruelty and sufferings of the other. The Gospel for the individual soul, the soul the Son of God once outweighed against a whole world in all that the world might stand for of wealth and riches and power and attained ambitions, saying the profit in the gain of a whole world would not equal the loss of one soul, has been set aside. Instead we have that modern and amazing evangel known as the "Social Gospel." Here for illustration are two old people living in a miserable cabin in a reeking, malarial swamp with a dozen children drinking in the poison of their environment. What folly to spend time and money on the father or mother. How inefficient any effort to save the children just one by one. Get to work at once and drain the swamp, drive out the poisonous and infectious insects with which the place is swarming, fill in the land with fine clean earth, plant flowers and sow seeds of fruitful harvests, let the salt sea blow in and breathe across the spot. The old people may die, in all probability they will, but under right and sanitary conditions the children will grow up into vigorous elements of a strong and worthful society. Why spend time, money, heart and enthusiasm in seeking to overcome or straighten out and make correct the bent lives that have come down to us through the unsanitary moral conditions of a previous generation? We have had wretched laws, desperate customs, children have grown up under them to become fathers and mothers of generations no better than themselves. It is neither economy of mind nor matter, so the modernists teach, to build mission houses, gather the people, old and young, and frighten them with the thought that when they die they shall pass into an environment worse than the one in which they are endeavouring to eke out a handicapped existence. Let us do the wise thing--go not so much to the prayer meetings, but to the legislatures, get bills passed, laws made that will drive out the false and disastrous conditions now obtaining; legislate so that it will no longer be possible for people to drink themselves drunk, steep themselves in drugs, smoke themselves yellow with tobacco, yield to the fascination of gambling in any form. Let society be cleaned from these evils and the result will be certain. A generation that shall never see a saloon, a bottle of wine or whiskey; a generation that will never know the meaning of rum and tobacco and will never see a house of ill fame will be a generation that must grow up in righteousness and truth. There will be no more drunken brawls, no multiplied lawlessness, no diseased bodies, no moral leprosy. The world will be safe for each individual. Each individual will have a saved, moral life here, a life lived in obedience to the laws of nature, and as the laws of nature are the laws of God, in obedience to God. And what danger can the hereafter, if there be such a thing as the hereafter, hold for any one who is so obeying the laws of God? Get society right and the individual will become right. That is the modern Gospel. That is the message to a needy world: "Get society right and the individual will become right." I do not interject here in full testimony the nevertheless fact that such a pagan city as Rome, or licentious Corinth or idolatrous Ephesus were lifted into cleanness and moral decency, not by legislative action, by reorganization of local conditions, but by the regeneration of one individual at a time until the divine sanity and personal spirituality enthroned in them built up societies, assemblies of such heaven-given health that the old social conditions were overthrown; so overthrown by the personal Gospel Paul preached that throughout Asia Minor the people had been turned away from the worship of their gods, in Ephesus the temple of Diana was largely deserted and the craftsmen who made the silver, souvenir images of the goddess complained their business was almost at an end. Strangely enough the advocates of this social Gospel set up the individual life of the Son of God as the means by which society is to be made right; but they set up, not the life He is living now as the risen, glorified God-man; on the contrary the life He lived before He died, the character He exhibited as a social reformer and an exemplar in righteousness. Men, they say, are not to be saved by the death Christ died, but by the life He then lived. He is to be taken as the proof of the doctrine of evolution and the possibilities in the natural man. He is the most advanced son of God who ever lived. All other men are innately sons of God, but undeveloped. The fact of Christ, it is said, is a sublime encouragement to any man. He has only to copy Him in His words and deeds to find the divine life unfolding. Get away from the sacrificial Christ, this modern Gospel teaches, to the social Christ, the Christ who was interested in the poor and needy and who arraigned wrong social conditions; take the attitude of Christ in relation to the evil of His times and with Him as the inspiration institute right legislation and right social conditions and the world will soon approach the condition of heaven on earth. This is the infidellic drive of Protestantism today. Protestantism has come down from the plane of the supernatural to the plane of the natural. Every day Protestantism is becoming more and more a society for competitive morality. In short, the Protestantism of the hour is a combination of religiousness, civilization, Christianity, socialism, pagan philosophy, unitarianism and the energy of the flesh. Nor need we be startled at this as though some strange thing had taken place. Long ago the Apostle warned us that it would be necessary to preach the Word in season and out of season--just as a watchman is under bonds to flash light in the darkness--because the time would come when the Church should have a form of godliness, but denying the power thereof; when it would not endure sound doctrine, but in obedience to the itching of the flesh should heap to itself teachers who should endeavour to respond to these worldly demands; teachers who in the end should turn the people away from the truth and turn them to the fictions and fables of men; teachers of whom the Apostle Peter warned who should bring in damnable heresies, even denying the Lord who had bought them, teachers whom Jude foresaw would creep in unawares. Men who consult the chart of a seacoast which marks the place of breakers and treacherous, hidden ledges, now and then thrust out through the white foam like the gleaming sharp teeth of waiting sharks, are not startled when they see the surf breaking at the indicated spot and hear the roar of the waters where it was announced they should lift up their thunder; they are not surprised, instead their confidence in the accuracy of the chart is emphasized. Likewise when those who have read the forecast in Holy Scripture, while they may feel a certain grief at the facts as they are, rejoice when they see these things that even the failure of man as man and the betrayal of committed trust bear witness to the accuracy of Holy Writ. With all its failure the professing Church still claims to be the kingdom of Christ on earth and asserts its determination to rule the world. Rome holds to the idea with unfailing faith and with consistent Jesuitical and political scheming is moving forward with united front to temporal sovereignty. Protestantism with its new watchword of a "reorganized world" is making all its plans to attain the place of power by social, moral and political means. What would be said of a queen who entered into partnership with men whose hands were still red with the blood of her murdered husband and rejected king? What could be said but that she had wholly forgotten or proved totally false to the principles for which her husband had died? What shall be said of a Church which seeks to enter into partnership with a world that slew her Lord; which under all the smile and smoothness of moral, social and philosophical phrases and all the hypocritical laudations of His human character rejects His deity and hears in His cry of agony on the cross the proof that He was only a man who failed as other men have failed at the last. Such a Church as that has lost the vision of its true attitude during the absence of its rejected Lord and is well-nigh to forfeiting its commission. Over the professing Church is sounding to-day with ominous significance the Apostolic words of warning: "What, know ye not that the friendship of the world is enmity with God; and that whosoever will be the friend of the world, is the enemy of God?" The Corinthian Church attempted to take the place of rulership in the world. With keen and biting words the Apostle rebukes them. Thus he writes to them: "Now ye are full, now ye are rich, ye have reigned as kings without us: and I would to God ye did reign, that we might also reign with you." Then he adds by way of contrast: "I think that God hath set forth us the apostles last, as it were appointed to death: for we are made a spectacle unto the world, and to angels and to men." It is this same apostle who under the inspiration of the Spirit in his second epistle writes to Timothy: "If we suffer, we shall also reign with him." It is not while her Lord is the crucified and rejected that the Church is to reign and rule over the world. Not while He is seated on His Father's throne in heaven and His own throne on earth is cast down and trampled in the dust. Nay! if the Church is faithful she will walk in separation from the world. If the Church is faithful she will testify against the world, not testify merely against certain abuses, but against the world as a system, that it is built upon the principle of the enthronement of self and not God, the exaltation of the flesh and not spirit. If the Church shall be faithful and like Noah in the building of his ark condemn the world; if the Church will take up earnestly the solemn truth of God and warn men that no matter how good a government may be established by human means, no matter what culture and morality may fill the earth, no matter to what extent advance may be made in art, in science, nor no matter how safe a place the world may be made to live in, no matter to what heights of natural morality and righteousness man as man may attain, the judgment of God against this system of man called the world is certain, and that He will arise in His majesty to shake terribly the earth, and that only the things that are built on God can remain, the Church will suffer and be rejected even as was her Lord. The Church is to be faithful to the testimony of Christ and enter into the fellowship of His sufferings. The day of her triumph will come. She is yet to rule over the world. The hour and the circumstances are fixed. Listen, I pray you, to the words of the Spirit as He speaks through the Apostle Paul: "When Christ who is our life shall appear--then (and not till then) shall ye also appear with Him in glory." Only when Christ shall come to take to Himself His long deferred rulership can the Church enter into her rulership over the world. In the fifth chapter of the Revelation you have the new song of the Church, the song of redemption and rule. This is the triumphant song; it is a song of praise addressed to the Son of God Himself: "Thou wast slain and hast redeemed us to God by thy blood, out of every kindred, and tongue, and people, and nation: And hast made us unto our God kings and priests; and we shall reign on the earth." But mark the moment when that song is sung, the occasion of occasions! It is at that supreme moment when as the Lion of the tribe of Judah yonder in His risen and glorified humanity in heaven He steps forward, Son of man, king of the Jews and king of Israel to take the title deeds of His kingdom from the hand of the Father; that moment when He is getting ready to cast His judgments on the earth and come forth as in the days of Noah to sweep away all iniquity and unrighteousness. It is at this moment when He is about to take to Himself His great power and descend in judgment glory that the Church bursts forth into her song of redemption and rule. It is at the Second Coming of our Lord Jesus Christ alone that the Church will enter upon her function of rulership over the world. She cannot reign till He comes and puts her in the place of His queen and in associated power with Himself. And because I want to see the Church lifted up out of social, political and fleshly partnership with the world; because I want to see the Church in the place of authority and power making and fulfilling the edicts of God; because I want to see the Church so exalted into the place of rulership that all the nations shall walk in the light of her excellency, her righteousness and holiness; and because this high and glorious state will be attained alone at the Coming of our Lord Jesus Christ I preach His Second Coming. V Only at the Second Coming Will the Solemn and Covenant Promises of God to Israel be Fulfilled GOD sware to Abraham that he and his posterity should have the land of Palestine for an everlasting possession. Abraham never got a foot of the land under covenant promise. The only bit of ground he was able to call his was the burial plot he purchased with his own money. The children of Israel never entered the promised land under the Abrahamic covenant. The Lord redeemed them from Egypt, brought them through the divided waters of the Red Sea, led them by His presence, bore them up as on eagle's wings and dealt with them in pure, unconditional grace till they came to Sinai. There in all the pride and self-sufficiency of the flesh they took themselves off the ground of grace and unconditional covenant and put themselves under the covenant of the law. This covenant was a covenant of good behaviour. They were to possess the land as long as they fulfilled the terms of the covenant under the seal of its blessing and cursing. After the first generation had perished in the wilderness because of their unbelief, the second generation crossed the Jordan dry shod as their fathers had crossed the Red Sea and entered the land under pledge and bond of good behaviour. They were not able to keep the covenant of their own suggestion. Ten tribes went into an abomination of organized and politically inspired idolatry. In judgment and according to His warning He caused them to be carried away captives and buried nationally among the people whither they were led and for twenty-five hundred years have been nationally lost to view. For two thousand years because of similar and aggravated offenses and finally, because as a nation guilty of manslaughter in slaying the Lord their covenant king, the Jews have been the wanderers of the earth, the people of the restless foot, finding a home in every land but their own. Has God failed to keep His promise? Has He been unable or unwilling to keep His promise? Neither postulate is possible. God's counsel is immutable. He confirmed it by an oath. And since He could swear by nothing greater He sware by Himself. In the nature of the case then scattered Israel and wandering Judah must be gathered. They must return to their own land. God has so promised. These promises are to be found upon the pages of Holy Writ like the leaves of autumn--so many, so thickly strewn, now in single phrase, in connected passages, in whole chapters that should I attempt to read them slowly and distinctly, giving the sense, it would take me till the morning light. The Lord declares He has written their names upon the palms of His hand. They are as near and sensitively dear to Him, He says, as the apple of His eye. He is so interested, so determined concerning their restoration that He uses the most intensive language to express it, language that almost thunders aloud from the page as you read it. He uses language no less intense than this: "Yea, I will rejoice over them to do them good, and I will plant them in this land (the land of Palestine) assuredly with my whole heart and with my whole soul." Try and think of that! Let it penetrate your mind. The Lord who made heaven and earth, whose very name is omnipotence, says He will put the whole of His omnipotent heart and the whole of His omnipotent soul into the execution and the accomplishment of His determination and purpose to plant the children of Israel once more and forever in their own land. In the face of that registered will and purpose what power is there of man or Devil; what force is there in all the sweep of the universe that can hinder the chosen and covenant people of God from going back to Palestine and possessing that land as theirs and theirs alone, forever? But what evidence have we, what demonstration and proof that God will fulfill this postscript promise and plan? What evidence have we from the bare statement of God that He will keep this promise? The evidence is manifold and overwhelming. Before even the children of Israel crossed the Jordan the Lord warned them in language which burns and blisters that if they did not keep the law covenant and walk in the ways of righteousness and truth He would cause them to fall before their enemies. They should go out one way before them and flee seven ways. Their cities should be taken and their wives ravished. They should be led captives into every land. They should become a proverb, a byword, a hissing and a scorn. Every hand should be against them to do them ill. They should find no ease whither they went, nor should the soles of their feet have rest. Amidst those nations the Lord should give them a trembling heart, failing eyes and sorrow of mind. Their life should hang in doubt. They should fear night and day, and have no assurance of life. In the morning they should say, Would God it were even, and at even they should say, Would God it were morning. Their land should be made desolate and be an astonishment to the passer-by. In its desolation it should keep the sabbaths they should fail to give it. If they would not allow the land to rest in its sabbatic years, the Lord would cause it to have its ordained and natural rest by driving them out of it and allowing wind and rain and sun to take care of it and keep it fruitful. Later on all this warning of woe and terror of judgments was emphasized by the prophets against the Jews. They should become a nation of sorrows and acquainted with grief. But while the Lord should use the nations to correct them He would not make a full end of His own people. He would use the nations as the rods of His anger, as the instruments of discipline. He would use them by taking advantage of their own aggressive desires and ambitions, then after using them He would turn upon them, punish them for their pride and godless enmity to His people and make a full end of them. Then as the hour should draw nigh for the restoration to the land He would cause the Jews as the national representatives of all Israel to bud, to blossom and fill the face of the whole world with fruit. They should be the first to be restored to the land. They would go back in unbelief. And mark how the prophecies have been fulfilled! The illustration of this fulfillment finds its most tragic emphasis in the history of the Jews since that day when their king, the Son of God and the Holy One of Israel was hung as a malefactor on a Roman cross. They have not only been wanderers in every land, but they have suffered an agony no tongue can fittingly tell. The men have been robbed. They have been broken on the wheel. They have been stretched on the rack. They have been flayed alive. They have been burned alive. They have been sent to sea by thousands as herded cattle; and they have been sent thither in rotting and sinking ships. Their wives and daughters have suffered worse than torture or death. Their children have been mutilated; and when they failed to bring a full and satisfactory price in the public market, men, women and children have been given away as worthless slaves, not worth even the price of a kennel dog. They have been hunted like wild beasts of the mountain. Like frightened beasts they have trembled at the sound of approaching footsteps and the sound of a shaken leaf has caused them to flee. If their Lord was a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief, truly may it be said of them that they have been through the centuries a nation of sorrows and acquainted with grief; but the sorrows were unlike those of their Lord. He carried the sorrows, the griefs and woes of others that He might relieve them; they carried their own sorrows put upon them by the wickedness and cruelty of others until tears were their meat and drink night and day. Behold how the prophecies have been fulfilled in respect to their land. For centuries it has kept a sabbath of rest. It has rested from the toil of man; harvests have neither been sown nor reaped, nor the vintage gathered save here and there as with the sword in one hand and the sickle in the other. The land is there as a land just as it was in the days when the man of Nazareth walked by the shores of blue Galilee or trod the hills of Judah. The mountains of Moab draw their lines of beauty against the measureless deeps of an orient sky. The valleys lie between like fruitful bosoms where wheat and barley may grow. The olive trees stand dusky in the deepening shade. Pomegranate and apricot stretch forth their weighted boughs and the grapes in Eschol clusters hang purple in the slant of westering suns. It is even yet a land of brooks and fountains of waters and men may still dig iron and brass from out of its rugged hills. Yonder in Bashan within the range of your eyes you may count sixty cities of stone, walls and roofs and windows of stone, great swinging doors of stone. The centuries have beaten the wind, the rain, the storms and flying sand upon them. They remain. They have outworn the centuries. They are silent. No footfall is heard upon the threshold. The houses are empty save for a fox, a swiftly gliding viper, or a belated Bedaween who may stable his horse in a deserted room where once a happy family dwelt in the long ago. The stone cities are waiting and every stone in door and window seems to be crying out: "We are waiting till they return whose right alone it is to live and dwell here." But what of the nations that scattered them and made them to suffer? Where is Babylon the proud empire that took them captive; where is Babylon the golden city that saw them hang their harps upon the willows, sit down upon the banks of the strange river and give way to weeping as they yearned for their own land again? Where is Greece whose phalanxes swept through their fields and spoiled their vineyards? Where is Rome whose iron legions took their city, put thousand on thousands to the sword, destroyed the beautiful temple once hallowed by a Saviour's feet and then drew a ploughshare over Zion that it might become a ploughed field as foretold? The Rome that sculptured on its triumphal arches the figures of the captive Jews it had led in boastful mockery at the chariot wheels of returning conquerors? These nations in their ancient glory have disappeared, the Lord as He promised has made a full end of them. But what of Israel? The Jews have answered for them. There are fifteen millions of Jews to-day. They are the most vital and vigorous race on the earth. They are five times the number of all Israel who left Egypt; and they are but a sixth part of them--two tribes, Judah and Benjamin. They are the money makers and money loaners of the world. They are the merchants, the bankers, the musicians, the professors in school, in college and university. They are the philosophers, the scientists, the electricians and chemists. They have furnished prime ministers, statesmen, judges and generals. Such a statesman as Disraeli who glorified England, such a general as Massena whom Napoleon characterized as the "child of victory." If to-day you should seek a representative in every department of human genius and endeavour you would find that representative to be either a Jew or a Jewess. Fifteen millions of Jews! What are these fifteen millions of Jews but fifteen millions of proofs that the book we call the Bible is true, is inerrant, infallible? Fifteen millions of demonstrations and fifteen millions of indubitable proofs. By so much as they prove that God keeps faith with His warnings of woe and judgment, by so much will He keep faith with the promise of good He has made; by so much is it sure He will yet plant them as He has said in their own land and will do so with His whole heart and His whole soul. Already the sound of their footsteps may be heard on the homeward march. Zionism is now an immense fact. The spirit of nationalism has come back to Judah. The blue and white flag of David has been unfurled. Diplomats in the nations' counsels agree there can be no settled peace between Europe and the East till the Jew is back in his own land and Judah once more a recognized political state; that the Jews are the only people all the nations will agree should have Palestine, and the words, "Jewish State" are words repeated in common speech round the globe. England has driven the Turk out of Jerusalem. The corner-stone of a five million dollar university has been laid upon that Mount of Olives where once the Son of God amid its lonely shades prayed and agonized, a begun fulfillment of the prophecy of Zephaniah that in the latter days the Lord would execute judgment on the Gentile nations that should be gathered there and to His restored and delivered people turn again a pure speech, no longer the stuttering and smattering phrase of Yiddish, but the old Hebraic tongue of their fathers. Already there are papers in Jerusalem published in Hebrew, schools are taught and many speak in the ancient language. Many Jews are going back to Palestine. Many more are there now than returned from Babylon. They are going back as the Word of God foretold, in utter and absolute unbelief and bitter repudiation of the idea that Jesus of Nazareth was their foretold and foreordained Messiah. They are going back with the vail upon their eyes and as blind as in the day when their fathers caused Him to be crucified by Roman hands. They are going back to a time of anguish of which Jeremiah solemnly warns as "the day of Jacob's trouble," and our Lord describes as the tribulation, "the great one," the like of which the world has never seen and will never see again. They are going back to be set up by a league of ten nations and to enter into an alliance and covenant with its godless head as their political and false Messiah. They will suffer until there shall come upon that generation all the righteous blood shed upon the earth from the blood of righteous Abel to the blood of Zacharias, the son of Bacharias who was slain between the temple and the altar, and the blood of the Son of God which they invoked in judgment on themselves and their children in that fatal hour when Pilate convinced of the innocence of Jesus and wishing to let Him go had washed His hands in water, putting the responsibility of the crucifixion upon them as a people. Then it was they cried that terrible cry: "His blood be on us, and on our children." But then as now, and always since the days of Elijah, there was and is an elect remnant in Israel. For their sakes the Lord will come. He will descend with His host to Mount Sinai, the place of the law; the spot where Israel rejected grace and sought that covenant which neither they nor their children have ever been able to keep. He will sweep with His mighty army to Jerusalem. He will overthrow the Gentile nations gathered there under the Devil-incarnate Antichrist. He will stand upon the Mount of Olives. The elect remnant will behold Him come. They will look upon Him whom their fathers pierced. They will fall down in anguish before Him. They will mourn for Him as one mourneth for his only son. They will take up the fifty-third chapter of Isaiah and make it their confession of faith and bitter, self-accusing lamentation. They will say: "We did esteem him stricken, smitten of God, and afflicted. But he was wounded for our transgressions, he was bruised for our iniquities: the chastisement of our peace was upon him; and with his stripes we are healed. All we like sheep have gone astray; we have turned every one to his own way; and the Lord hath laid on him the iniquity of us all." And in that hour, in that day of days shall there be a fountain opened to the house of David, and to the inhabitants of Jerusalem, for sin and uncleanness. The Lord will cause Jerusalem to be rebuilded "upon her own heap." He will ordain the erection of that temple in which He shall establish the throne of His holiness. Like David He will reign first over Judah. After that He will send Gentile messengers like "fishers" to seek out and find the descendants of the ten lost tribes. They will respond to the proclamation that will be made and to the search that will be instituted in that eastern land and among those peoples whither they were first carried away. There will be many impostors among them; but the Lord will make them to "pass under the rod" as when the true sheep are struck with the owner's mark and as they take up their journey Zionward all who are not of Israel will be purged from their midst. Those who are really of the covenant people will be quickened, regenerated, and when they enter the land will be welcomed by Judah and Benjamin. They shall become one nation in the land upon the mountains of Israel. One king shall be king to them all. They shall not be two nations any more, neither shall they be divided into two kingdoms at all. The Lord will make a covenant of peace with them and multiply them and set His sanctuary in the midst of them forever. His tabernacle shall be with them. He will be their very God as He shall be the God of the whole earth. They shall be His peculiar people. All the Gentiles shall know that He has set them apart for Himself when they behold His temple erected in their midst, the most wonderful building in all the earth. And thus will be fulfilled the prophecy concerning Israel quoted and emphasized by the Holy Spirit through the Apostle Paul that the Deliverer should come to Zion and turn away ungodliness from Jacob and that all Israel--that is--Israel united and as twelve tribes, should be saved. It is at the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ, then and not till then that the solemn and covenant promises of God made to Abraham, to Isaac and to Jacob will be fulfilled and united, redeemed, regenerated and saved Israel set in their own land as the center and channel of blessing to the earth. And because there can be no permanent peace in the world till Israel has been restored; and because I wish to see, not only peace among the nations and Israel reaping the blessings of the unconditional covenant of God's grace and unchanged faithfulness, but because I yearn to see the hour when the Lord shall enter upon His own inheritance and justify Himself before heaven and earth as Judah's Lord, as Israel's God and turn the accusation of His cross: "This is Jesus of Nazareth, the king of the Jews" into the pean of His coronation as such, I preach the Second Coming. VI Only at the Second Coming of the Christ of God Will a Government of Everlasting Righteousness and Peace be Established Upon the Earth IT was the original purpose of God to make the people of Israel the head of nations, place them in Palestine as the geographical center of the earth, make them its political center, send His own Son to be their incarnate king, use them as a channel of earthly and spiritual blessing and make this world the most perfect and happiest spot in all the wide universe. They failed to meet their opportunity. Then the Lord transferred the possibility of world rulership from the Jews to the Gentiles. He did this by handing political power and authority to Nebuchadnezzar, the king of Babylon. This rulership and sway of the world descended in its ordained and foretold succession down through Medo-Persia with its incorporation of Babylon, through the temporary but immensely extended empire of Greece which under Alexander included both Babylon and Medo-Persia, and after that the colossal and magic empire of Rome, swallowing up as it did the three empires or kingdoms which preceded it. Since the division of Rome into Western and Eastern empires the rulership of the world has been maintained by the various nations composed of those people dwelling in the territory once occupied by Rome. The world has been ruled by Turks, Spaniards, Germans, by the French and by the English. The Gentile nations in this special and prophetic territory have been the world rulers. It has been peculiarly Gentile rulership and in Scripture is called, "The times of the Gentiles." Gentile times, Gentile rulership has lasted for twenty-five hundred years. It has been an amazing rule. It has been a rulership that has revealed the genius, the brilliance and the God-given powers of man. It has been a rulership that has revealed the iniquity, the sin, the mad ambition and devil-inspired policies of man. In all the twenty-five hundred years of this Gentile rule there have not been one hundred consecutive years of universal peace. It has been twenty-five hundred years of war, of rapine, murder and measureless lust. Cities have been destroyed, fields have been laid waste, women have endured the last outrage. Children have been orphaned, right has been upon the scaffold and wrong upon the throne, prison chains have been for virtue, silk and velvet for vice, civilization after civilization has been destroyed, the earth has been filled with anguish beyond the power of tongue or pen to describe, and blood enough has been shed through man's inhumanity to man to float all the navies of the world, and money and treasure enough wasted to have provided a palace for every man and woman on earth. A little less than five years ago men everywhere were talking of peace and safety. Christianity and civilization were walking hand in hand. Christianity or that which professed to be Christianity had accepted all the claimed benefits of civilization. Rapid transit, the telephone, all the triumphs of applied science were announced as the by-products of the Gospel. Even though the churches were becoming more or less empty and the people were turning away to other centers of instruction or enlightenment or consolation or hope, preachers were everywhere and with great insistence announcing that the world was growing better every day and that we were rapidly approaching the purple and the gold of millennial times. The hour was not far distant when the lion and the lamb should lie down together. There was much talk about the fatherhood of God and the brotherhood of man. People were coming together and having a better and more disinterested estimate of each other. Religion was ceasing to be dogmatic and precise and becoming more and more a profession that was free from restraint. Christian ministers in the pulpit and supposedly wise men in the counsels of the nations with optimistic utterance announced that the days of barbarism had passed away, the brutality of war was at an end. Men and nations would no longer adjourn their differences to the field of battle. A magnificent palace of peace had been erected in that country that had for centuries been the bloody ground where Europe settled its political issues. In this splendid home of arbitration the nations were to meet as friends and brothers and calmly arrange and solve all matters that had hitherto kept them menacingly apart. War had become so abhorrent to what was called the Christian sense of the nations that mothers were exhorted to banish from the nurseries anything that might suggest the thought of war, such as trumpets, drums or toy guns. So completely had the peace idea pervaded the mind of the people, the idea that peace had come to stay and nothing must be tolerated that would even hint at war, that a soldier or a sailor wearing the uniform of his country was no longer acceptable in a public place, were it a restaurant, a music hall or even a church. Men who were opposed to spending a dollar to make a nation ready for the possibility of war were hailed as the advanced thinkers and the men worthy of the suffrage of the people; while those who contended human nature had not been changed, that a nation was simply the individual grown large and the jealousies, the covetousness and ambitions of governments would always make it possible for the strong to prey upon the weak and for the unprincipled under the guise of national necessity to attack their unprepared neighbours and therefore just as much as a city rests in confidence with the presence within it of a well-equipped police force, equally so the comfort and security of peace could be best maintained by a nation governed by right principles whose army and navy were ready to resist successfully any unjust assault upon its honour or integrity, were treated with pity, if not scorn, as still under the spell of benighted and barbaric days. "Peace and safety!" these were the pleasant words that lulled a pleasure-seeking and money-making generation into self-satisfied rest and the mirage of millennial days already arrived. Then, suddenly, like a bolt out of a clear sky, or the overflow in raging lava tide of an unsuspected volcano, the most stupendous, ghastly and brutally devilish war the world has ever known was on in all its fiendish fury, sweeping from England to the Euphrates and from the Rhine and Danube on the north to the glittering sands of Africa on the south, rolling its waves of blood and sending its sickening and indescribable horrors through those lands and among those people at one time constituting the four kingdoms to whom God had committed the rulership of the world; that region occupied by Babylon, Medo-Persia, Greece and Rome and whose administration of world affairs is called "the times of the Gentiles." To-night ten millions of the world's flower of manhood lie rotting in their graves. Six millions of women and children have been starved to death. Women have been unspeakably ruined, children mutilated and flung as helpless debris upon the charity of strangers, suffering their orphaned estate and not knowing why. All the genius, the science and invention of man with poured out, unlimited wealth, have been drafted to produce the most terrifically destructive means of war. All the boasted progress and culture of the preceding centuries were called upon to wage the contest until it should affright even the participants themselves. Clouds of poison gas filled the once sweet and vital air of spring time and summer mornings. Human beings wearing hideous masks and looking like other world monsters rushed in mad onslaught upon one another. They burrowed in holes and trenches like wild beasts concealed in their lair and waiting for the prey. Through the startled heavens winged things like huge vampires vomiting fire and blood took their way over cities, towns and unprotected hospitals, leaving behind them the dead, the dying and the tortured. Hunger with its sunken cheeks, and pestilence with its green eyes, its slavering lips have trod the earth till horror with wordless anguish has kept vigil by the blackened hearthstones of ruined homes and deserted firesides. To-night, the fields of Flanders where the poppies grow and where the dead who died too soon and lie almost too thick to count, are as though a mighty juggernaut had rolled its fearful wheels over them, crushing both man and earth together into one monstrous pulp of hopeless ruin. To-night France, where the lilies were wont to bloom, is torn and ripped in all the one-time beauty and fascination of her white and winding roads, poplar fringed, in the culture of her fruited gardens, her orchards and her royal forests, as though some monstrous creation of pre-Adamite days had survived and broken through all restraint of all the ages to riot and gorge himself with unlimited delight of destruction. All this after two thousand years of professed Christianity and the constant iteration that the Church was slowly winning its way to the ruler-ship of the world; that each hour the world was growing better and more and more the principles of the Christ of God dominating the universal heart of man. The world awoke to find its heart unchanged and war with aggressive animalism still the underlying and primal force in man. To-night in face of all this, in face of the solemn declaration of the Son of God that during the whole time of His absence there would be war and rumours of war, and specially within the territory once occupied by Rome; that there would be distress of nations with perplexity, men's hearts failing them for fear for looking after the things that should be coming on the earth; that the people like the waves of the sea should be roaring, uttering their discordant voices in the thunder of protest and bitter discontent, breaking the bonds of old customs and lashing the times with lawlessness and unprecedented crime; in face of the warning of the Apostle Paul that in the last days, that is to say in the closing hours of this age, there should be, not peaceful but perilous times; that evil men should wax worse and worse, deceiving and being deceived; in the face of the inspired assurance of the Apostle James that as this dispensation should draw to its close Capital and Labour should stand in bitter attitude to each other; that the accumulated wealth of a special class called "rich men" should be "heaped together" that they might be spoiled and that miseries should come upon them; that on the one side should be the aggression of the profiteers and on the other the violence of those who would refuse to be exploited; in face of this assurance of industrial and class war; in face of the fact that the softest toned apostle whose pen is always transcribing the word "love," and who has reached the highest and most sublime definition of God as love; in face of the fact that this apostle affirms the hour will come when the whole world under religious, political and devilish inspiration will rush to conflict, that everywhere will be heard the tramp of armed men and the gathering of the nations for a war such as the world has not yet seen; in face of the picture which this apostle of love paints where the armies of the world are seen gathered in battle array against the Lord Christ and His right to reign; in the face of this divine warning the statesmen of the world are assembled in counsel at Paris, the world's capital of pleasure, in a palace once dedicated to lust and wanton self-gratification, whose panelled ceiling and mirrored walls are filled with and reflect the scenes and glorification of war, that by the stroke of a pen, by a series of resolutions, they may constitute a league of nations bulking so big that every threatened wave of future war may be flung back as when the dykes of Holland reject the sea. The astonishing and suggestive thing is that in the making and remaking of the map of Europe and Asia undertaken by the framers of the league, they are, all unconsciously, restoring the outlines of the old Roman Empire and preparing the way for the final and desperate revival of Rome under the form of ten confederate nations, with its last kaiser, that dark and woful figure, the man of sin, the son of perdition, the Antichrist. And there are Christian teachers who see in this league another herald of the millennium before Christ comes which they so sedulously preached previously to the war. They see in this league an evidence that the Lord Jesus Christ as the Prince of Peace is in reality reigning over the earth and bending the nations to His will for the reign of peace. In the whole history of theological exegesis and interpretation I know of nothing so utterly faulty, illogical and wholly unscriptural as that exegesis which teaches the angel song at Bethlehem to be the announcement of the birth of our Lord Jesus Christ as the Prince of Peace and that as such He should establish it among the nations after His ascension to heaven and during His absence from the world. The angels sang glory to God in the highest and on earth, peace to "men of good will." The angel who spoke to the shepherds keeping the temple sheep for the morning and the evening sacrifice was testifying to them that there was no longer need to keep the sheep for such a purpose. The day of animal sacrifices had passed, the living God had provided the true sacrifice, He who was born beneath the chaplet of heaven's music, the Lamb of God ordained before the foundation of the world. He had been born into the world that He might make peace by the blood of His cross, not between man and man, not between nation and nation, but between man and God. He had been born to die and by His death reconcile a rebel world to God; on the basis of this sacrifice yet to be and when He should have risen from the dead as witness of the efficacy of His death He would bring peace to every soul that should be of good will--every soul that should surrender to the will of God by believing on Him, offering Him by faith as a sacrifice and claiming Him as a substitute. Every such soul should be at peace with, and have the peace of, God. This was the meaning of that natal hour at Bethlehem. The angels were not singing over Him as the Prince of Peace who had come to abolish war among the nations, but as the ordained sacrifice who should bring peace between the individual man and his God. And yet--He is to be the Prince of Peace and reign and rule as such over the earth, putting an end to war and establishing perfect peace among the nations. The promise of His reign and rule as the Prince of Peace is clearly set forth in Scripture; as it is written in the book of the prophet Isaiah: "Unto us a child is born, unto us a son is given. His name shall be called Wonderful, Counsellor, The mighty God, The everlasting Father, The Prince of Peace. Of the increase of his peace and government there shall be no end." But when? Where? Listen: "Upon the throne of David, and upon his kingdom to order it." And hear what Gabriel says to Mary when he comes to announce to her that she has been chosen of Almighty God to give birth to the Messiah of Israel. The angel says: "Thou shalt call his name Jesus . . . He shall be great, and shall be called the Son of the Highest: and the Lord God shall give unto him the throne of his father David: And he shall reign over the house of Jacob forever; and of his kingdom there shall be no end." He is to be the Prince of Peace when He sits upon the throne of united Israel in their own land and not before. He was born in fulfillment of the prophecy of Isaiah. He was a Son given. The Son of God who was God the Son. He was a Son given and became a child born. He grew up to the station of manhood. He entered upon His pre-arranged ministry. At the appointed hour and to the very second foretold by Gabriel to Daniel and in the exact manner announced by the prophet Zechariah He rode into Jerusalem, went into the temple, claiming it as His Father's house of prayer and by so much declaring Himself to be the Son of the Highest and the heir of David's throne. The shout of the multitude had announced Him officially. They had said: "Hosanna! Blessed is the King of Israel that cometh in the name of the Lord." In crying this aloud they were fulfilling the prediction of Zechariah. He had, under the vision of God, looked forward to this hour and with the Spirit of God upon him had exhorted the people who should be alive when Jesus should come to acclaim him. He said: "Shout, O daughter of Jerusalem; behold thy King cometh unto thee; he is just, and having salvation (political as well as spiritual salvation); lowly, and riding upon an ass, and upon a colt the foal of an ass." The multitude were shouting as Zechariah said they should shout. They were confessing that He who came that day up the slopes of Zion was the Prince of Judah and King of Israel. He came to His own, but His own received Him not. Instead of the diadem of David He got a crown of thorns. Instead of the sceptre of Israel He got the vine stick of a Roman centurion thrust through His rope-tied hands. Instead of a throne He got a malefactor's cross. Instead of a robe of royal purple He got the winding sheet of the dead. Instead of a palace He got a borrowed grave. The Jews have paid the price of that blindness and betrayal. The man-slayer who unwittingly slew his neighbour or was even ignorant of it at the moment sooner or later found he had to flee from the avenger of blood instantly upon his track. He became an exile from his home, forced to dwell in a provided place called the city of refuge. He could not return to his home till the second coming of a priest. The Jews were guilty, as a nation, of manslaughter. They were deceived and involved by their leaders. They really did not know that He whom they hounded to death at the last was not only the covenant king of Israel, and the Holy One of their fathers, but the Prince of life. Because of their blindness, blunder and sin they were cast out of the land. Because, even though in ignorance, they slew their King, they were exiled by the judgment of God from their home. They deprived the Lord of that land that was His through the covenant of Abraham, and the Lord in turn deprived them of the right of dwelling in the land. They should be exiles so long as He was an exile. Nor can they return till He comes the second time as a priest, not after the order of Aaron, but Melchisedec; for it is written that He shall be both a king and priest upon His throne. Only can the Jews return and be owned nationally of the Lord when He shall come. He will come and He will come as the Prince of Peace. He will not come, I repeat, with the olive branch in His hand and the cooing dove nestling upon His shoulder. Nay! not at all! He will come as the Avenger of His elect, as the Son of man, as the judge of all flesh. He will come to overthrow the combination of Devil and man. His Coming will be the climax of old and outworn ages, the beginning of the new. The glory of His Coming cannot be described. Through years of meditation and continued effort at description I have exhausted my vocabulary and worn to tatters the oft-repeated phrases with which I have sought with heart full of adoring enthusiasm to announce the wonders of that hour. If all the suns and systems were turned into speech till every flaming center of light were an adjective with increasing emphasis of qualification and expression the attempt to put into words the glory of that Coming would be a pitiful and overwhelming failure. He will come surrounded by an innumerable host whose hallelujahs shall so vibrate that the very heavens will roll apart at their soundings. The Lord will come in His threefold glory, the glory of the Father, the glory of the angels and His own glory: the glory of His eternal and unbegun sonship with the Father, as chief of the angels and as that man who is very God, as that God who is real and immortal man. Then will He set up the kingdom, the government for which the ages have dreamed and groaned and guessed and prayed. That hour of hours! Satan bound, iniquity overthrown, God and Christ and the Holy Spirit ruling in the lives of men. The very air surcharged with the righteousness of God; so surcharged that he who thinks a lie shall fall dead in the tracks where he meditated it. No longer need of judge, of jury, of prison bars, nor hangman's rope, nor electric chair. An hour when no longer the scarlet poppies of hate, of jealousies and mad ambition shall bud and blossom into war. War over forever, swords beaten into ploughshares and spears into pruning hooks. Every man the same right as any other man, the right to sunshine, to air, to water, the beauty of the landscape and all the usufruct of earth. That hour when no man shall call another his master; when no longer a man shall toil and bend his back and break his heart for a stipend of bread; for a hole in the ground and the worm of corruption as mistress of his bed. That hour when life shall be worth while and when the centuries of peace and perfectness of actual being shall pass on till they are counted as eternity. And because this government of peace and splendour and all the outflowing possibilities of a world in which righteousness shall reign and God shall be first can be brought about only by and at the Second Coming of our Lord Jesus Christ; because until He does so come wars and sorrows and the darkness of sin will continue; because all the legislation of man and all the leagues of nations will utterly fail to establish permanent peace; because in spite of the best endeavours of all the merely moral forces in the earth there is nothing can keep this system called the world from going on the rocks; because only the hand of God's Christ can break the bands of iniquity, quiet earth's fever pulses and putting down all authority bring in the peace that never can be broken; because when He comes the government of right and truth and the life that is really worth while shall come; and because from my heart I want to see that longed-for hour of heaven on earth, I preach the Second Coming of our Lord Jesus Christ. VII It is at the Second Coming of Our Lord Jesus Christ that the Earth Will be Delivered from the Bondage of Corruption and Transformed into the Paradise of God WHEN man fell creation fell. It fell because creation in respect to this earth was headed up in him. God placed a ban upon it, a restraint of its fruitfulness. Instead He gave liberty to thorns and briars and poisonous, creeping things. You may plant your garden, you may plant your orchard, set your vines and sow your fields. You may go to sleep and rest and think your work is done, that nothing remains but to awake again and receive the looked-for fruit and harvest. When you do awake you will find the poisonous, creeping things have climbed over your wall and fence, have glided in among the good seed, flung their tentacles of death about them and are slowly, surely strangling the life out of them. If you would have your garden to grow, your orchard to yield its fruit, your vineyard to hang out its purple clusters, your harvests to ripen in the kiss of sun and developing touch of caressing winds, then you must rise early and toil late. For every acre of worthful land you must crown your brow with the sweat of unceasing and exacting toil. The earth is in bondage. It is held in the close, the gripping and relentless bonds of corruption. Everywhere and in all things is the corruption of the dead. The very air you breathe is dust from the mingled bones of the dead. The earth is crammed with the dead of man and beast. The grain that is reaped and the flowers that bloom grow forth from the fatness of the grave and the impulse of corruption, watered by tears distilled from the heartache of the generations old who have sorrowed above that grave and wept and hoped in vain. Put your ear to the bosom of old mother earth and you will hear a moaning and lament like unto women in travail who seek to bring to the birth. I am told the whole creation groaneth and travaileth in pain together until now; that it is on the tiptoe of expectation with neck and head stretched out waiting for the Coming of the Son of God and all the sons of glory. O yes! creation in all her borders is crying out for the Son of God to come. It is crying out from all its rivers, from the moan of the sea, in the shiver of earthquake and the rush of the lava tide from the red throat of the flaming volcano. It is crying out in the heat of burning deserts, in every pain that is felt, in every tear of anguish that stains the face and speaks the agony of the heart, in every clod that falls with its accent of woe upon the coffin lid, in all the bitterness, the shame and tragedy of a sin-smitten and Devil-hurt world; everything in nature from rock and worm to man is crying out: "Come, Lord Jesus, and build again this broken and ruined earth of thine." He will hear the cry. When He comes He will take off the ban. He will deliver from corruption. The earth will no longer shiver as an aspen. Fear will no longer walk forth like a tyrant and set the pulses beating or hold them strangling. Briars and thorns and fiend-like weeds and smothering, choking things that have kept the earth in barrenness where Eden-like gardens should have bloomed, and, thank God, all graves, will disappear. The desert shall bloom as the rose, the earth shall be renewed, made beautiful, and all creation loosened from its prison bonds shall sing and echo with unending harmonies in every freely fruiting and growing thing throughout all its delivered and happy borders. For a thousand golden years under a new heavens and beneath a pure sky where the air shall flow round it as a river of crystal from the throne of God the earth will roll onward to the music of its sister spheres keeping time in the great diapason of the universe that owns and celebrates the glory of God; then, at last, it will pass through gates of fire and come forth into that new orbit, as that new earth wherein is no more dividing sea, storm swept and full of the wrecks of ships, of greater wrecks of hopes, and tiled with the white bones of the dead; that new earth where there shall be no more night with its hidden evil and its long and darksome hours in which the sufferer yearns for morning light, no more tears, nor sorrow, nor pain, nor any more that black and ever multiplying horror they call death; that new earth that shall be no longer the footstool, but the exalted and special throne of God--the center of the universe. Into this new and perfect earth the Church shall descend--a company of redeemed, blood-washed, immortal sons of God. The Son of God and God the Son Himself shall descend and dwell there. Then for the first time shall the children of God behold in Him the full lineament of their Father's face; for, though He be the eternal Son He shall be seen and known as the "everlasting Father," or "the Father of the everlasting age." The onlooking worlds as they swing in their chorus of adoration about this radiant and omnipotent center will learn and proclaim the immense truth that this earth was created, not merely as an expression of the wisdom, genius and might of God in His function as a creator, but as the arena of redemption, as the spot whence in all the wide empire of His power might be known and felt the pulse beat of His heart. As the innumerable hosts of heaven sweep around this center of grace and redemption, as they behold beings who once were lost in sin, wrecked and ruined beyond human hope or angelic aid, now immortal, holy, happy sons of God, they will break forth in ever increasing songs of adoration and shall say as they sing till the universe shall repeat it again and again: "Behold, the glory of God is not alone in his majesty and might, in his holiness and omnipotence, but in his love." They shall take up that marvellous passage in John 3: 16 and cry it aloud so that it will ring with accumulating praise to Him who first uttered it: "For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life." And all the host of heaven shall proclaim: "God is love. God is love." All this consummation is to find its initial at the Second Coming of our Lord Jesus Christ. And because I want to see this earth freed from the stain of sin, the torture of pain, the accents of sorrow, the terror of tears, the hour of dying, the black and shameful grave, the trench of corruption and the Devil's ministry of death; because I want to see a worth-while world where no longer the earth shall turn from night to morn and then from morn to disappointing night again, but shall glow forever in the light of an endless morn; because I want to see a world where the purposes of God in love, in benediction and unfailing grace are no longer seemingly contradicted by untoward events and conditions, by problems that with the best apologies for the divine character no human genius can solve or balance, but are written in high and lifted testimony brighter than the stars of any night and stronger shining than any sun of day; because I want to see a world where man shall be the enthronement of God and shall glorify Him as such, and where every atom of earth shall be full of His love and redolent with His praise, and where life shall be only another name for joy and the unending and the ever new unfoldment of it, the actual joy of unreserved, unlimited living; and because this desire in all its full accomplishment can come and the first notes of infinite triumph alone be struck and the song begin by the Coming of our Lord Jesus Christ--I preach His Second Coming. VIII The Coming of Our Lord Jesus Christ for His Church is the Most Imminent Event on the Horizon of Time BETWEEN us and the Coming of our Lord Jesus Christ in glory to Mount Zion to set up and establish His kingdom there are many predicted and consecutively fixed events. Between us and the moment when our Lord shall suddenly and secretly descend to take the Church to Himself into the place prepared, hold her in security above the woe hour coming on all them that dwell on the face of the earth and then bring her back to reign and rule with Him in glory, there is not a single, predicted event; and this--in the very nature of the case. In the nature of the case because this age in which we live is a parenthesis between the kingdom postponed upon the one side and the kingdom to be brought in upon the other. In this age God is not seeking to convert the world, but to take out of it a people for His Name. It is an age of selection and therefore an age of election. When you take some things out of the midst of other things there will be, not only a first one, but necessarily a last one. As there was a first one elected, called out and taken into union with a risen Lord, so must there be a last one who shall be called through the Gospel, quickened by the Spirit and bound up in indissoluble union with a living Lord. When that last one is called and responds to the life-giving power of the Spirit the Lord will descend into the upper air and take the completed and corporate Church to Himself--the dead raised, the living changed. When that last elect one will be called you do not know, it is not known to a single soul on earth. Since you do not know when the last elect of God shall be called, and it is sure the Lord will come when that last elect one is called, then you do not know when the Lord will come; and so far as you are concerned, and so far as any revelation otherwise is given, it may be any hour and, therefore, "any moment"; consequently the Coming of the Lord for His Church is--imminent. Thus the imminency of the Lord's Coming for His Church is grounded on election. Imminency is so absolutely linked up with election that you cannot deny imminency without denying election; and to deny election is to deny God Himself, deny Him in the very essence of His own prerogative, the prerogative of foreordination, of decree. The imminency of the Lord's Coming for His Church is grounded on the Lord's own declaration that He is coming for her as a thief comes. This is His declaration and warning to the Church at Sardis, that Church which is the symbol of Protestantism in the closing hours of the age. The warning is given to the pastor, through the pastor to the Church and through the local assembly at Sardis to the whole Church. This is what the risen Lord actually says: "Remember therefore how thou hast received and heard; and hold fast, and repent. If therefore thou shalt not watch, I will arrive over thee as a thief, and thou shalt not know what hour I will arrive over thee." The characteristics of thief coming are marked and clear. The thief does not come with strident voice, with thunderous noise, nor in open daylight, but between the midnight and the morn, with shodden feet, silently, softly, and takes the treasure while all in the house are sunken in the depths of sleep. When the sunbeams of the morning pelt the eyelids of the laggard sleepers they awake to find the thief has come and gone and in his going has taken the treasure with him. If the symbol be of avail and not a mere exercise in logomachy then will the Lord, indeed, descend in the moral and spiritual night of the world while men are sleeping and in fancied security pleasantly dreaming. He will descend unseen, unnoted. If men shall hear the sound of a trump it will have no greater significance to their spiritually deaf ears than any other passing sound. He will take, not the "great house" of religious profession, but those alone in that profession who have been regenerated and are indwelt by the Spirit, the dead who have fallen asleep in His name and the living who abide in Him. Above all--imminency is grounded in the integrity of the Son of God and His apostles. Unless all language is a deception; unless the promises of God are a baited lie; unless the apostles of Christ are the most shameless of all wanton tricksters; unless the Son of God Himself is the coolest traitor to truth who ever fooled the trusting hearts of needy men; unless He is the one being of all others who had the subtle and effective genius of making promises that fill the ear and are broken to the heart; unless He was the most skillful of all deceivers and rejoiced with malignant delight in deceiving the souls of men and thus proved Himself to be not the Son of God at all but the very son of falsehood, then seeing He is the reverse of all that, is in truth the very Son of God and truth itself, by His own unqualified statement, by its very character as exhortative warning His Coming must be and is--imminent. It is on the threshold of unfolding history and the gates of heaven are ajar ready for His Coming. So imminent is it that there is nothing between us and that event of events but the shout of command, the voice of the archangel and the shattering sound of the trump. So imminent that there is not the thickness of an eyelash between us and that moment when the door in heaven shall open wide and His voice with all compelling power shall say, "Come up hither." Listen to what He says: "Watch therefore: for ye know not what hour your Lord doth come." Watch! because He is coming. Watch! because you do not know what hour He will come. Watch! because as the householder He said He might come in any one of the four watches, at even, at midnight, in the cockcrowing or in the morning. He did not come at even. Surely the midnight has come. It is dark enough spiritually. There is not only enough of sorrow, sin, confusion and unbelief in a godless world, but rank treason to the truth and repudiation of the written Word in the professing Church to call it spiritual midnight. It seems sometimes like the cockcrowing. There are sounds of chanticleer, blasts of trumpets, changing of the guards and sentinels of old customs and ways, and echoes in the events now unrolling that prelude the great morning and the great day. There is nothing certain about the hour but its--uncertainty. Watch! because you may be alive at His Coming. That is the word of Holy Scripture and not my suggestion. Listen to the Apostle: "We which are alive, and remain unto the coming of the Lord." The Apostle said that for his generation. He said it not under his own mistaken idea as the Chicago department of "sacred literature" would suggest, but under the inspiration of the Holy Spirit of the Holy God. Paul as a mere man might make mistakes just as the modern theological professor not infrequently does. The Holy Spirit speaking through Paul could not make a mistake Himself, neither could it be possible for Paul under the direction of the Holy Spirit to make a mistake. Paul was led by the Holy Spirit to believe it possible the Son of God might come in his day. What Paul under inspiration said for his generation, he said for our generation. He said it for you and for me. Because no man knows the hour when the Lord will come it might be in your hour and my hour. The Master Himself said: "You know not what hour your Lord doth come." Who is he who will have the hardihood to fix the hour when the Master has said no man knows? Who is he who will put a thousand years between the Church and her returning Lord? Where is the difference between a thousand years' delay and one moment that can be fixed by any man? If the Lord says you do not know the hour and necessarily do not know the minute of the hour, if you fix a minute between us and the Coming you deny the words of the Son of God Himself that the minute and the hour are unknown. Who is he who has it all fixed and polished and pumice stoned to the exact date? The Lord has said no man on earth knows, not an angel in heaven knows. He Himself took the place of a servant and by the exercise of His omnipotent will residing in His eternal and unchanged personality as Son of God and God the Son, shut out the knowledge of it from His humanity, from Himself as man, and said He did not know when He should come. Admit that a revelation has since been given to Him as a man or that He has taken the ban off His human side Himself and that He knows when He will come for the Church and the exact hour of His appearing in glory; admit this if you like and for the sake of argument (although there is not the slightest shade of a shadow of evidence for such an argument) it still remains that no such revelation has ever been given to the Church; neither has the restriction of the Son of God to His disciples been removed. You remember what He said just before He ascended! This is what He said: "It is not for you to know the times or the seasons, which the Father hath put in his own power." That this restriction was for the Church is the declaration of the Apostle. This is what he said to the Church at Thessalonica: "Of the times and the seasons, brethren, ye have no need that I write unto you." Why had he no need to write to them? Because the day of the Lord, he said, should come as a thief, and as that day is introduced by the Coming of the Lord for His Church, then His coming for the Church was, as He Himself afterwards declared in his letter to Sardis, like the coming of a thief. This Coming Paul had described in the fourth chapter of his first letter to the Thessalonians. It was not for the Church to know in Paul's day when the Lord should come as the bridegroom for His bride. No revelation has been given in any epistle to the Church since. What was true in Paul's day as to the attitude of the Church is true in this day. Listen to the commended attitude of the Thessalonian Church: "Ye turned to God from idols, to serve the living and true God; and to wait for his Son from heaven." There you have it. The Church is to wait; that means to watch, to expect, to be ready. This is what the Apostle said. This is what the Son of God Himself said and still says to-day. He affirms we do not know the hour. He exhorts us to watch. The affirmation and the exhortation hold for this hour. If therefore the Son of God be not incarnate falsehood; if He seek not to play with my heart and make me a spectacle to the lost souls of the pit as well as to the mockers among men--He means what He said. If He meant what He said, then He means that any day, and any hour of the day so far as I know I may meet Him at any turn of the road. And what would that mean if He should come to-night or to-morrow? I have told you what it would mean to me. What would it mean to you, to some of you who have so much invested in Laurel Hill, in that white and beautiful city of the dead, by the banks of your winding river? When I was a boy my father took me there and I watched as the winds rippled through the long grasses, and I could hear the wash of the river below, I was startled and sometimes shivered as I walked under the shadow of tall monuments, carved figures, and by stately tombs of marble. And once I started back and broke into tears at the sight of the sculptured form of "Old Mortality" bending above a slab with chisel and mallet in hand--and I suppose is there still, grown older in his stony face because more stained with the passing years. What would it mean to you whose loved ones are lying in that cemetery or any other of the sleeping places of the dead? Ah! it would mean the home-coming, the greeting, the rapturous kiss and hand-clasp of recognition, the joy of that heaven life that shall know no end and that immortality that shall compensate for all the weariness and the heartache of the mortal path here below. Yes! it would mean to those of us who by faith in Christ Jesus are children of the living God, the gathering to our arms again of those who have left us and for whom our arms still ache to enfold them once more. And O my soul! it would mean the seeing of Him whom our soul loveth and who unfailingly has loved us; it would mean that boon of boons--seeing Him face to face. Do you wonder the Holy Spirit who is the finger of God has written over against the word "hope," that qualification, "blessed," and affixed to it the demonstrative, "that," so it doth read: "That blessed hope"? And yet! and yet! there are men who call themselves the ministers of Christ who would blot out that hope and take away the vision of it from our souls. With cold, acute, metallic voices in which you may hear the sound of the wheels of machinery and the buzz of business, they tell us that should the Lord suddenly come it would paralyze all industry, put an end to commerce and to trade, overthrow all progress, make worthless every high endeavour for the betterment of man, shut the doors of school, of college and university, render useless the architect's and builder's plans, throw down the mechanic's tools, the artist's brush, the sculptor's chisel, the writer's pen, still the orator's tongue, make null and void the legislator's high emprise and draw a line of atrophy across the unfolding processes of human life. Oh, foolish, blind and slow to believe, do you not see that if the Lord should come it would lift our so-called civilization out of the slime and shame of its brazen folly and reeking, though perfumed sin into the glory of eternal righteousness and peace? Do you not see that it would, at last, make men immortal and give them such beauty of form, such sanity and such culture and worth of being as all the gymnasia and all the eugenics of the hour have failed and will ever fail to achieve? Do you not see that if the Lord should suddenly come it would at once open the gates of knowledge and bring us face to face with the secrets of the universe and make us masters under God of all natural laws such as all the curriculae of all the institutions of learning, of applied science and philosophy have failed to impart? Do you not see it would be the fulfillment of the highest ideals and aspirations and would make man what the creator of heaven and earth originally intended man should be--not an animal working with tools and breaking his heart in vain finally to achieve--but a very God who should speak and it should be done, command and it should stand fast; and who should be the incarnate revelation, the eternal enthronement of the invisible God, in power, in character and holiness? Do you not see it would change this old earth from the swinging cemetery of the dead into the home of deathless men, the home of the eternal and worth-while life? Oh, listen to me all who hear me! The hope for this world of daily toil and tears, of graves and unceasing tragedy, of pitiful woe, is not that slow creeping thing called evolution, wallowing on its serpentine belly amid the dust of death and the crime and sin of unchanged and unchangeable human nature--but God Himself--God in Christ, the personal Coming of Him who is the maker of heaven and earth, coming to bring in the new dawn, the new day, the new earth and the new empire of God and man. Oh, tell me those of you who have been redeemed by blood, regenerated by the Spirit, made partakers of the divine nature, turned heavenward by the power of God, who see cloudless daylight in the Bible, even in the darkness of a spiritual night, hear music in its promises and whose souls are filled with love to God and love to man, tell me would you like Him to come, would you like to see your Lord face to face? Oh, you who have had the vision of His cross behold it, I beseech you, there! The head crowned with thorns, the nailed hands, the nailed feet, the pierced side, the blood pouring out of those hands, gliding round His body, weaving itself in its sinuous course over the white flesh into a robe of crimson, and then streaming out into a fringe of intense scarlet as it drops, drop by drop to the thirsty ground, dripping, dripping there. Oh, I can see it and I seem to feel the warm touch of it, the strange, the wonderful cleansing touch of it, the only thing that can make a blackened sinner white; and as it drops each drop seems to say till it turns to very music in the soul: "Though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be white as snow; though they be red like crimson, they shall be as wool." Listen to the dropping of that blood out of the heart of God, every drop the price current of the merchant, the half shekel of the sanctuary, the purchase price of your redemption and mine and the seal of infinite love, of measureless grace. Oh, tell me would you like Him to come, transfigure you into the beauty of His likeness and put the benediction of His peace upon this old sin-smitten, tear-stained earth? Do you ever pray the last prayer recorded in Holy Scripture, the last prayer of the Holy Apostolic Church? Listen to it! Listen to it well! "Amen. Even so, come, Lord Jesus." Is this prayer in your heart? Does it ever come to your lips? Do you ever genuinely and openly offer it, wishing with all your heart it might be so, might be answered in your time; or, have you forgotten it like the Church at large? Do you feel ashamed or afraid to offer it in public? When you try to offer it in private or public does unbelief smother it? I once heard a boy say to his mother: "O mother, don't do so much for me; love me more." I tell you the truth whether you hear or forbear: as preachers and teachers many of you are doing too much for the Lord. You are busy, morning, noon and night in His name, running here and there, tinkering religiously and morally, putting things together and increasingly active; so busy doing for the Lord that like Martha you have no time to sit still at His feet as did Mary and hear His Word, hear what He has to say to you; so busy doing for Him that you are losing sight of Himself. This was the "somewhat" He had against the Ephesian Church. That Church was full of works and labours. They had tested false doctrines and false teachers. They stood squarely for fundamentals and were theologically sound; but they had left their "first love," love to Himself, love to His person, devotion to His person, a flaming, outbreaking, overflowing enthusiasm for a personal, a realistic Saviour and Lord. They were taken up with what they were doing for Him rather than with Himself. They had got away from the loving, impelling touch and contact with Himself. The personal touch with Christ! That is what He wants from us. Not so much what we are doing for Him, but what He is to us personally. He wants to be the first and the last, the chiefest among ten thousands and the one altogether lovely. This is the definition of true and efficient Christianity --personal devotion to a living and loving Saviour. Looking down from heaven He is saying to us, no matter how much we may be doing for Him, He is saying this to us: "Love me more." And until there is this flaming, burning, out-flowing enthusiasm for and devotion to a personal Lord, to Him for what He is as well as for what He has done for us, there can be no sweeping, wide, resultant revival and ingathering of the elect of God. You may plan and organize and get together, you will have only a flame that will flare for a time and then go out. Nay! only when we are on fire for Him can we make the hearts of men to burn with the faith that shall turn them to Him and make them hate and forsake whatever does not honour and glorify Him. Over all the noise and rush of things, and all the machinery well motived men sometimes set going in His name He is saying: "Love me more! love me more!" When some one you love with this intense personal love is absent you are not satisfied till that absent one returns, fills your vision and responds to the touch of your greeting and your love. If you love the very person of the Son of God; if you have a quivering, all-pervading enthusiasm for Him so that He is, indeed, above all personalities in the universe to you, you will want Him to return where you may look upon Him--not as Thomas did for doubt's sake and stumbling hope's sake--but for the very joy of it until the print of the nails in His hand and the print of the nails in His feet shall be to you as the apocalypse of His glory and the illumination of your soul. Do you really want Him to come--this long absent Redeemer and Lord? He is listening to hear whether you want Him to come; whether above every plan and scheme you may have been building in His name; above any religious, even spiritual ambition you may have, you want Him to come for--Himself. He is very still. He is listening to hear whether you will say that one little word that has in it such vibrant meaning, that one word: "Come." The Church as a Church has long ago ceased to say--"Come." But the old prayer is still written here in the closing page of Holy Scripture: "Amen. Even so, Come, Lord Jesus." Are you willing to-night to put your faith and your heart into that old prayer and bid Him come? Have you the faith and sincerity to do it? You say, "Yes." Then rise to your feet as one person and say that prayer as I line it out to you until it shall roll upward like a wave on the infinite shore and break on our Lord's listening ears with the music of love's unfailing appeal: "AMEN. EVEN SO, COME, LORD JESUS." In response to Dr. Haldeman the great audience filling the building from pit to dome rose to its feet as in a flash and repeated the prayer as he gave it out. It was a moving sight and full of impression as the mighty volume of united voices rose and swelled upward to that throne where our Lord sits as Bridegroom as well as King and yearns in these days to hear His true Bride in all the wonder of her spiritual beauty and the strength of her essential unity say--"Come." _Printed in the United States of America_ 
30657	----	_Sovereign Grace_ Its Source, Its Nature and Its Effects By D. L. Moody _"By Grace are ye saved."--Ephesians ii. 8_ With Three Gospel Dialogues Chicago New York Toronto FLEMING H. REVELL COMPANY London and Edinburgh _Copyrighted 1891 by Fleming H. Revell Company._ PREFATORY NOTE. IN the exercise of his high calling, the faithful ambassador of Christ must not scruple to declare the whole counsel of God--"rightly dividing the word of truth," to all classes of hearers. He must warn the openly wicked man that if he persists in his evil courses, the just judgments of God will inevitably overtake him; he must unmask the hypocrite; he must utter no uncertain protest against the crooked and devious ways of the self-seeker and the time-server. But if he enters into the Spirit of his Master, no part of his public work will be more congenial or delightful than the proclamation of the full, free, and sovereign grace of God, manifested towards sinful men in the gift of His Eternal Son, to be the Saviour of the world. It has been my happy privilege in years past to tell out, as best I could, this wonderful story of redeeming grace. The following pages record the addresses I have given on the various aspects of this great subject. I pray God that in their printed form they may serve to deepen in the mind of the reader the appreciation of this grace, at once so infinite and so undeserved. The chapter entitled "A Chime of Gospel Bells," though not strictly flowing out of the general subject, is in perfect harmony with it; every note in the chime is intended to ring out the gracious invitation to "Come" to the God of all grace and be blessed. The Dialogues which form the latter part of the book were heard with much interest and profit at some of the London meetings; I think the perusal of them will be helpful in removing many of the hindrances that prevent anxious inquirers from accepting without delay the salvation that God in His grace has provided for the sinful children of men. CONTENTS. The Fountain of Grace Saved by Grace Alone Possessing, and "Working Out" Grace Abounding to the Chief of Sinners Law and Grace Grace for Living Grace for Service "A Chime of Gospel Bells" GOSPEL DIALOGUES: I. What It Is to be a Child of God II. How to Become a Christian III. What It Is to be Converted "Grace! 'tis a charming sound, Harmonious to the ear; Heaven with the echo shall resound, And all the earth shall hear. 'Twas grace that wrote my name In life's eternal book; 'Twas grace that gave me to the Lamb, Who all my sorrows took. Grace taught my wandering feet To tread the heavenly road; And new supplies each hour I meet, While pressing on to God. Oh let that grace inspire My soul with strength divine. May all my prayers to Thee aspire, And all my days be Thine." _Dr. Doddridge._ SOVEREIGN GRACE CHAPTER I. THE FOUNTAIN OF GRACE. THERE are some words with which we have been familiar from our infancy up, and probably there are few words in the English language that are so often used as this word "GRACE." Many of you at your table "say grace" three times a day. You seldom go into a church without hearing the word mentioned. You seldom read any part of the New Testament, especially the Epistles, without meeting the word. There is probably not a word in the language so little understood. There are a great many who have received the grace of God into their heart, but who, if they should be asked what the word means would be troubled, and confused, and unable to tell. I experienced the grace of God a good many years before I really knew the true meaning of the word. Now, grace means unmerited mercy--undeserved favor. If men were to wake up to the fact, they would not be talking about their own worthiness when we ask them to come to Christ. When the truth dawns upon them that Christ came to save the unworthy, then they will accept salvation. Peter calls God "the God of all grace." Men talk about grace, but, as a rule, they know very little about it. Let a business man go to one of your bankers to borrow a few hundred dollars for sixty or ninety days; if he is well able to pay, the banker will perhaps lend him the money if he can get another responsible man to sign the note with him. They give what they call three days' grace after the sixty or ninety days have expired; but they will make the borrower pay interest on the money during these three days, and if he does not return principal and interest at the appointed time, they will sell his goods; they will perhaps turn him out of his house, and take the last piece of furniture in his possession. That is not grace at all; but that fairly illustrates man's idea of it. Grace not only frees you from payment of the interest, but of the principal also. ITS SOURCE. In the Gospel by John we read, "The Word was made flesh and dwelt among us, and we beheld His glory, the glory as of the Only-begotten of the Father, full of grace and truth . . . For the law was given by Moses, but grace and truth came by Jesus Christ." Now you know that for many years men were constantly trying to find the source of the Nile. The river of grace has been flowing through this dark earth for six thousand years, and we certainly ought to be more anxious to find out its source than to discover the source of the Nile. I think if you will read your Bible carefully you will find that this wonderful river of grace comes right from the very heart of God. I remember being in Texas a few years ago, in a place where the country was very dry and parched. In that dry country there is a beautiful river that springs right out of the ground. It flows along; and on both sides of the river you find life and vegetation. Grace flows like that river; and you can trace its source right up to the very heart of God. You may say that its highest manifestation was seen when God gave the Son of His bosom to save this lost world. "Not as the offense, so also is the free gift. For if through the offense of one many be dead, much more the grace of God, and the gift by grace, which is by one man, Jesus Christ, hath abounded unto many." A FREE GIFT. Notice, it is the free gift of God. "Grace be unto you, and peace, from God our Father, and from the Lord Jesus Christ. I thank my God always on your behalf, for the grace of God which is given you by Jesus Christ." Paul wrote fourteen Epistles; and every one of them is closed with a prayer for grace. Paul calls it "The free gift of God." Thousands have been kept out of the kingdom of God because they do not realize what this free gift is. They think they must do something to merit salvation. The first promise given to fallen man was a promise of grace. God never promised Adam anything when He put him in Eden. God never entered into a covenant with him as He did with Abraham. God told him "of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil thou shalt not eat of it: for in the day that thou eatest thereof thou shalt surely die;" but when this came to pass then God came and gave him a gracious promise. He dealt in grace with him. As he left the Garden of Eden he could say to Eve, "Well, God does love us, though He has driven us out." There was no sign that Adam recognized his lost condition. As far as we know there was no cry for mercy or pardon, no confession of sin. Yet we find that God dealt in grace with him. God sought Adam out that he might bestow His grace upon him. He met Adam in his lost and ruined condition, and the first thing He did was to proclaim the promise of a coming Saviour. For six thousand years, God has been trying to teach the world this great and glorious truth--that He wants to deal with man in love and in grace. It runs right through the Bible; all along you find this stream of grace flowing. The very last promise in the closing chapter of Revelation, like the first promise in Eden, is a promise of grace: "Whosoever will, let him take the water of life freely." So the whole revelation, and the whole history of man is encircled with grace, the free favor of God. Some years ago when I was speaking on this subject, a friend sent me the following: "By the grace of God I am what I am!" This is the believer's eternal confession. Grace found him a rebel--it leaves him a son. Grace found him wandering at the gates of hell--it leads him through the gates of heaven. Grace devised the scheme of Redemption: Justice never would; Reason never could. And it is grace which carries out that scheme. No sinner would ever have sought his God but 'by grace.' The thickets of Eden would have proved Adam's grave, had not grace called him out. Saul would have lived and died the haughty self-righteous persecutor had not grace laid him low. The thief would have continued breathing out his blasphemies, had not grace arrested his tongue and tuned it for glory. "'Out of the knottiest timber,' says Rutherford, 'He can make vessels of mercy for service in the high palace of glory.'" "'I came, I saw, I conquered,' says Toplady, 'may be inscribed by the Saviour on every monument of grace.' 'I came to the sinner; I looked upon him; and with a look of omnipotent love, I conquered.'" My friend, we would have been this day wandering stars, to whom is reserved the blackness of darkness--Christless--hopeless --portionless--had not grace invited us, and grace constrained us. RESTRAINING GRACE. It is grace which, at this moment, keeps us. We have often been a Peter--forsaking our Lord, but brought back to him again. Why not a Demas or a Judas? 'I have prayed for thee that thy faith fail not.' Is not this our own comment and reflection on life's retrospect? 'Yet not I, but the grace of God which was with me.' Oh, let us seek to realize our continual dependence on this grace every moment! 'More grace! more grace!' should be our continual cry. But the infinite supply is commensurate with the infinite need. The treasury of grace, though always emptying is always full: the key of prayer which opens it is always at hand: and the almighty Almoner of the blessings of grace is always waiting to the gracious. The recorded promise never can be canceled or reversed--'My grace is sufficient for thee.' Let us seek to dwell much on this inexhaustible theme. The grace of God is the source of minor temporal as well as of higher spiritual blessings. It accounts for the crumb of daily bread as well as for the crown of eternal glory. But even in regard to earthly mercies, never forget the channel of grace through Christ Jesus. It is sweet thus to connect every (even the smallest and humblest) token of providential bounty with Calvary's Cross--to have the common blessings of life stamped with the print of the nails; it makes them doubly precious to think this flows from Jesus. Let others be contented with the uncovenanted mercies of God. Be it ours to say as the children of grace and heirs of glory--'Our Father which art in heaven, give us this day our daily bread.' Nay, reposing in the all-sufficiency in all things, promised by 'the God of all grace.' CHAPTER II. SAVED BY GRACE ALONE. I WANT to call your special attention to the fact that we are saved by grace alone, not by works _and_ grace. A great many people think that they can be saved by works. Others think that salvation may be attained by works and grace together. They need to have their eyes opened to see that the gift of God is free and apart from works. "For by grace are ye saved through faith; and that not of yourselves, it is the gift of God. Not of works, lest any man should boast." Many people would put it thus: "For by your works are ye saved,--or by your tears, or your prayers, or your fastings, or your trials, or your good resolutions, or your money!" But Paul tells us plainly that it is "not of works, lest any man should boast." If we could be saved by works, then of course Christ's mission to this world was a mistake. There was no need for Him to come. What had Paul ever done that could merit salvation? Up to the time that Christ called him he had done everything he could against Christ and against Christianity. He was in the very act of going to Damascus to cast into prison every Christian he could find. If he had not been stopped, many of them would probably have been put to death. It was Paul, you remember, who cheered on the mob that stoned Stephen. Yet we find that when Christ met him He dealt in grace with him. No apostle says so much against salvation by works _before_ the cross, as Paul; and none says so much about works _after_ the cross. He put works in their right place. I have very little sympathy with any man who has been redeemed by the precious blood of the Son of God, and who has not got the spirit of work. If we are children of God we ought not to have a lazy drop of blood in our veins. If a man tells me that he has been saved, and does not desire to work for the honor of God, I doubt his salvation. Laziness belongs to the old creation, not to the new. In all my experience I never knew a lazy man to be converted--never. I have more hope of the salvation of drunkards, and thieves, and harlots, than of a lazy man. WHAT THE THIRTY-NINE ARTICLES SAY. I find some people have accused me of teaching heresy, because I say salvation is all of grace. I remember once, a clergyman said I was teaching false doctrine because I said salvation was all of grace. He said that works had as much to do with our salvation as grace. At that time I had never read the Thirty-Nine Articles; if I had I should have been ready to meet him. I got the Prayer Book, and looked through the Thirty-Nine Articles; and I found, to my amazement, that they put it a good deal stronger than I had done. Let us hear what they say-- "XI. _Of the Justification of Man._ We are accounted righteous before God, only for the merit of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ by Faith, and not for our own works or deservings: Wherefore, that we are justified by Faith only, is a most wholesome doctrine, and very full of comfort." "XII. _Of Good Works._ Albeit that Good Works, which are the fruits of Faith, and follow after Justification, cannot put away our sins, and endure the severity of God's judgment; yet are they pleasing and acceptable to God in Christ, and do spring out necessarily of a true and lively Faith; insomuch that by them a lively Faith may be as evidently known as a tree discerned by the fruit." "XIII. _Of Works Before Justification._ Works done before the grace of Christ, and the inspiration of His Spirit, are not pleasant to God; forasmuch as they spring not of faith in Jesus Christ, neither do they make men meet to receive grace, or (as the school-authors say) deserve grace of congruity: yea rather, for that they are not done as God hath willed and commanded them to be done, we doubt not but they have the nature of sin." That is stronger than I ever put it. These Articles say of works before justification that "they have the nature of sin." I never called them sin! So you see this is not any new doctrine that we are preaching. When the church and the world wake up to the fact that works before salvation go for nought, _then_--and not till then, I believe--men will come flocking into the kingdom of God by hundreds. We work from the cross, not to it. WE work because we are saved, not in order to be saved. We work from salvation, not up to it. Salvation is the gift of God. You have heard the Prayer Book: now hear paul; "Abraham believed God; and it was counted unto him for righteousness. Now to him that worketh is the reward not reckoned of grace, but of debt. But to him that worketh not, but believeth on Him that justifieth the ungodly, his faith is counted for righteousness." Notice what the Apostle says: "To him that worketh not." That is plain language, is it not? I may perhaps startle some of you by saying that many of you have been kept out of the kingdom of God by your good works. Nevertheless it is true. If you put works in the place of faith, they become a snare to you. It is "to him that worketh not, but believeth." I freely admit salvation is worth working for; it is worth a man's going round the world on his hands and knees, climbing its mountains, crossing its valleys, swimming its rivers, going through all manner of hardship in order to attain it. But we do not get it in that way. Paul went through all the trials and hardships he had to endure, because by the grace of God resting on him he was enabled to do so. PENANCE FOR SIN. Would you insult the Almighty by offering Him the fruits of this frail body to atone for sin? Supposing your Queen were to send me a magnificent present, and I said to the royal messenger: "I certainly should not like to accept this from Her Majesty without giving her something in return." Suppose I should send her a penny! How would the Queen feel, if I were to insult her in that way? And what have we that we can offer to God in return for His free gift of salvation? Less than nothing. We must come and take salvation in God's way. There is no merit in taking a gift. If a beggar comes to my house, and asks for bread to eat, and I give him a loaf of bread, there is no merit in his taking the bread. So if you experience the favor of God, you have to take it as a beggar. Some one has said: "If you come to God as a prince, you go away as a beggar: if you come as a beggar, you go away as a prince." It is to the needy that God opens the wardrobe of heaven, and brings out the robe of righteousness. Paul says again: "If by grace, then is it no more of works: otherwise grace is no more grace. But if it be of works, then is it no more grace: otherwise work is no more work." Paul is reasoning in this way: that if I work for a gift or attempt to give money for it, it ceases to be a gift. The only way to get a gift is to take it as a gift. An old man got up in one of our meetings and said, "I have been forty-two years learning three things." I pricked up my ears at that; I thought that if I could find out in about three minutes what a man had taken forty-two years to learn, I should like to do it. The first thing he said he had learned was that he could do nothing towards his own salvation. "Well," said I to myself, "that is worth learning." The second thing he had found out was that God did not require him to do anything. Well, that was worth finding out too. And the third thing was that the Lord Jesus Christ had done it all, that salvation was finished, and that all he had to do was to _take_ it. Dear friends, let us learn this lesson; let us give up our struggling and striving, and accept salvation at once. A FREE PARDON. I was preaching in the Southern States a few years ago; and the minister called my attention to one of the elders in his Church. He said: When the civil war broke out, that man was in one of the far Southern States, and he enlisted into the Southern army. He was selected by the Southern General as a spy, and sent to spy out the Northern army. As you know, armies have no mercy on spies, if they can catch them. This man was caught. He was tried by court-martial, and ordered to be shot. While he was in the guard-room, previous to the time of execution, the Northern soldiers used to bring him his rations. Every time they came to his cell he would call Abraham Lincoln by every vile epithet he could think of. It seemed as though he "lay awake nights" trying to study such names. At last the soldiers got so angry that they said they would be glad when the bullet went through his heart. Some of them even said they would like to put a bullet through him; and if they were not obliged by military order to feed him, they would let him starve in the prison. They thought that was what he deserved for talking so unjustly of Lincoln. One day while he was in the prison, waiting to be led out to execution, a Northern officer came to the cell. The prisoner, full of rage, thought his time was come to be shot. The officer opened the prison door, and handed him a free pardon from Abraham Lincoln! He told him he was at liberty; he could go to his wife and children! The man who had before been so full of bitterness, and malice, and rage, suddenly quieted down, and said, "What! has Abraham Lincoln pardoned me? For what? I never said a good word about him." The officer said, "If you had what you deserved you would be shot. But some one interceded for you at Washington and obtained your pardon; you are now at liberty." The minister, as he told me, said that this act of undeserved kindness quite broke the man's heart and led to his conversion. Said the minister, "You let any man speak one word against Abraham Lincoln now in the hearing of that man, and see what will happen. There is not a man in all the Republic of America, I believe, who has a kinder feeling towards our late President than he." Now that is grace. The man did not _deserve_ a pardon. But this is exactly what grace is: _undeserved mercy_. You may have been a rebel against God up to this very hour; but if you acknowledge your rebellion, and are willing to take the mercy that God offers, you can have it freely. It is there for every soul on the face of the earth. "The grace of God that bringeth salvation to all men hath appeared." Thank God for that! Salvation by grace is for all men. If we are lost, it will not be because God has not provided a Saviour, but because we spurn the gift of God--because we dash the cup of salvation from us. What says Christ? You remember that when He was on earth, they came to Him and asked what they should do to work the works of God. He had been telling them to labor not for the bread that perisheth, but for the meat that endureth unto everlasting life. Then they asked Him, "What shall we do that we may work the works of God?" What did Jesus tell them to do? Did He tell them to go and feed the hungry, to clothe the naked, to visit the widow and the fatherless in their affliction? Perhaps you may say that, according to Scripture, is "pure and undefiled religion." Granted; but something comes before that. That is all right and necessary in its place. But when these men wanted to know what they had to do to inherit eternal life, Jesus said: "This is the work of God, that ye believe on Him whom He hath sent." YOU CAN BELIEVE. A friend lately called my attention to the fact that God has put the offer of salvation in such a way that the whole world can lay hold of it. All men can believe. A lame man might not perhaps be able to visit the sick; but he can believe. A blind man by reason of his infirmity cannot do many things; but he can believe. A deaf man can believe. A dying man can believe. God has put salvation so simply that the young and the old, the wise and the foolish, the rich and the poor, can all believe if they will. Do you think that Christ would have come down from heaven, would have gone to Gethsemane and to Golgotha, would have suffered as He did, if man could have worked his way up to heaven?--if he could have merited salvation by his own efforts? I think if you give five minutes' consideration to this question you will see, that if man could have saved himself Christ need not have suffered at all. Remember, too, what Christ says: "He that climbeth up some other way, the same is a thief and a robber." He has marked out the way to God. He has opened up a new and shining way, and He wants us to take _His_ way. Certainly the attempt to work our way up to heaven is "climbing up some other way," is it not? If ever a man did succeed in working his way into heaven we should never hear the last of it! I have got so terribly sick of these so-called "self-made men." There are some men whom you cannot approach without hearing them blow their trumpet, saying, "I am a self-made man. I came here a poor man ten years ago; and now I am rich." It is all I--I--I! They go on boasting, and telling what wonderful beings they are! There is one thing that is excluded from the kingdom of heaven; and that is--boasting. If you and I ever get there it will be by the sovereign grace of God. There will be no credit due to ourselves. "Saved by grace alone! This is all my plea: Jesus died for all mankind, And Jesus died for me." CHAPTER III. POSSESSING, AND "WORKING OUT." I CAN imagine some one asking: What does that passage mean--"Work out your own salvation with fear and trembling?" Well, I want you to emphasize the word _your:_ "Work out _your_ salvation." That is most important. You hear people talk of working out salvation, when all the time they have not got it. How can you work out what you do not possess? Paul is here writing to the Christians at Philippi. They were already saved by the grace of God. Now that they had got this wonderful gift, he says: "Go, work it out." When you see a person working for salvation, you may know that he has got a false idea of the teaching of the Scripture. We have salvation as a gift; and of course we cannot get it by working for it. It is our appreciation of this gift that makes us work. Many people are working and working, as Rowland Hill says, like children on a rocking horse--it is a beautiful motion, but there is no progress. Those who are working for salvation are like men on a treadmill, going round, and round, and round; toiling, and toiling, and toiling; but nothing comes of it all. There is no progress, and there cannot be until you have the motive power within, till the breath of life comes from God, which can alone give you power to work for others. Suppose I say to my son: "You are going away from home; and I want you to be very careful how you spend that $500." "Well," he says, "if you will give me $500, I will be careful about it; but how can I be careful in spending what I have not got?" And so, unless you have salvation, you cannot work it out. Take another illustration. One summer my boy asked me to give him a piece of ground that he might have a garden all to himself. I said I would give it to him; but that I expected he would keep it clear of weeds, and use it in some way that would make it pleasant and profitable to him. He was to work out the piece of land; but he could not do that until I had given it to him. Neither was it his working it out that secured him the garden. I gave it to him freely, apart from any merit of his own; but I did so on the understanding that he should employ it to the best advantage. I think that is a fair illustration of our working out the salvation that God has given us. Of course these illustrations fail in some points. I could not impart to my son the willingness to work out the piece of land, though I could provide him with all the necessary implements. God not only gives us salvation freely, but he gives us the power to work it out. A writer says on this point: "Paul does not command the Philippians _to save themselves_. There was no thought in his mind of any meritorious self-righteousness. Man can by no work of his own either procure salvation or merit salvation. God worketh the salvation _within_ the soul--man only worketh that salvation _out_ in the Christian life. To break off from known sin; to renounce all self-righteousness; to cast ourselves in loving faith on the merits of Christ crucified; to commence at once a life of self-denial, of prayer, of obedience; to turn from all that God forbids, resolutely and earnestly, unto all that God requires--this is what the text implies. But then this is not salvation. Salvation is of God--of grace--of free grace. From the germ to the fruit, from foundation to top-stone--it is of grace, free grace, altogether and only. But the '_working out of salvation_'--is _man's part_ in the work of salvation. God will not repent for the man; nor believe for the man; nor lead a holy life for the man. God worketh inwardly--man worketh outwardly. And this outward human work is as necessary as the inward Divine work." God works in us; and then we work _for_ Him. If He has done a work in us, we certainly ought to go and work for others. A man must have this salvation, and must know it, before he can work for the salvation of others. Many of you have tried hard to save yourselves; but what has been the end of it all? I remember a lady in the North of England who became quite angry when I made this remark publicly: "No one in this congregation will be saved till they stop trying to save themselves." Down she came from the gallery, and said to me: "You have made me perfectly miserable." "Indeed," I said, "how is that?" "Why, I always thought that if I kept on trying, God would save me at some time; and now you tell me to stop trying: what, then, am I to do?" "Why, let the Lord save you." She went off in something like a rage. It is not always a bad sign when you see a man or a woman wake up cross, if it is the Word of God that wakes them up. A day or two afterwards she came and thanked me. She said she had been turning over in her mind what I had said; and at last the truth dawned upon her, that though she had worked long, though she had formed a good many resolutions, she had made no progress. So she gave up the struggle; and then it was that the Lord Jesus saved her. I want to ask you this question: If sin needs forgiveness--and all sin is against God--how can you work out your own forgiveness? If I stole $100 from a friend, I could not forgive myself, could I? No act of mine would bring about forgiveness, unless my friend forgave me. And so, if I want forgiveness of sin, it must be the work of God. If we look at salvation as a new life, it must be the work of God. God is the author of life: you cannot give yourself life. If we consider it as a gift, it must come from some one outside of ourselves. That is what I read in the Bible--Salvation as a gift. While I am speaking, you can make up your mind that you will stop trying, and take this gift. I wish I could get this whole audience to drop the word _try_, and put the word _trust_ in its place. The forgiving grace of God is wonderful. He will save you this very minute, if you are willing to be saved. He delights in mercy. He wants to show that mercy to every soul. The religion of Christ is not man working his way up to God; it is God coming down to man. It is Christ coming down to the pit of sin and woe where we are, bringing us out of the pit, putting our feet upon a rock, and a new song in our mouth. He will do it this minute, while I am speaking, if you will let Him. Will you let Him? That is the question. I do not believe much in dreams; but they sometimes illustrate a point. I heard about a woman who had been trying for a long time, just like many of you, to be better and better. She tried to save herself, but made no progress. One night she fell asleep in a very troubled state of mind, and she had a dream. She thought that she was in a pit striving to get out--climbing and slipping, climbing and slipping, climbing and slipping; at last she gave up the struggle, and laid herself down at the bottom of the pit to die. She happened to look up, and she saw through the mouth of the pit a beautiful star. She fixed her eye on it; and it seemed as if the star lifted her up till she was almost out. But the thought of herself came to her mind; she looked off at the sides of the pit: immediately she lost sight of the star, and down to the bottom of the pit she went. Again she fixed her eye on the star; and again it seemed to lift her almost out. But once again she took her eye off the star, and looked at herself; down into the pit she fell again! The third time she fixed her eye on the star and was lifted higher and higher, until all at once her feet struck the ground above, and she awoke from her sleep. God taught her a lesson by the dream. She learned that if ever she was to be saved, she must give up the struggle, and let Jesus Christ save her. My friends, give up the struggle today! You have tried long and hard. It has been a hard battle, has it not? Give it up; and repose in the arms of Jesus Christ. Say "Lord, I come to thee as a poor sinner; wilt Thou not save me and help me?" "The gift of God is eternal life." It is offered to all: who will have it? I see some children here: let me tell you a story. If you have not heard it before, please do not forget it. A Sunday school teacher wished to show his class how free the gift of God is. He took a silver watch from his pocket one day, and offered it to the eldest boy in the class. "It is yours, if you will take it." The little fellow sat and grinned at the teacher. He thought he was joking. The teacher offered it to the next boy, and said: "Take that watch: it is yours." The little fellow thought he would be laughed at if he held out his hand, and therefore he sat still. In the same way the teacher went nearly round the class: but not one of them would accept the proffered gift. At length he came to the smallest boy. When the watch was offered to the little fellow, he took it and put it into his pocket. All the class laughed at him. "I am thankful, my boy," said the teacher, "that you believe my word. The watch is yours. Take good care of it. Wind it up every night." The rest of the class looked on in amazement; and one of them said: "Teacher, you don't mean that the watch is his? You don't mean that he hasn't to give it back to you?" "No," said the teacher, "he hasn't to give it back to me. It is his own now." "Oh--h--h! if I had only known that, wouldn't I have taken it!" I see you laugh; but my friends you are laughing at yourselves. You need not go far away to find these boys. Salvation is freely offered to all, but the trouble is that men do not believe God's Word, and do not accept the gift. Who will accept it now? I found a few lines the other day on this point that I thought very good. I will close with them: "I would not work my soul to save, For that my Lord hath done; But I would work like any slave, For love of God's dear Son." CHAPTER IV. GRACE ABOUNDING TO THE CHIEF OF SINNERS. I WANT to lay emphasis on the fact that God desires to show mercy to all. Christ's last command to His disciples was, "Go ye into _all_ the world and preach the Gospel to _every_ creature." There may be some hearing me who have not received this grace, though it has often been pressed on their acceptance. One reason why many do not become partakers of this grace is that they think they can do better without it. The Jews said they were the seed of Abraham. They had Moses and the Law: therefore they had no need of the pardoning grace of God that Christ had come to bring. We read in the book of Revelation of a church that said it was "rich, and increased in goods, and had need of nothing." That was the trouble when Christ was down here. Instead of coming to Him to be blessed, the people too often went away thinking and saying they had no need of His favor and blessing. THE TWO PRAYERS. In the Gospel by Luke Christ brings two men before us. I do not know that we can get any two cases in Scripture that will give us more light on this subject than those of the Pharisee and the Publican, who went into the temple to pray. One went away as empty as he came. He was like the church described in Revelation, to which I have referred. He went into the temple desiring nothing; and he got nothing. The other man asked for something; he asked for pardon and mercy. And he went down to his house justified. Take the prayer of the Pharisee. There is no confession in it, no adoration, no contrition, no petition. As I have said, he asked for nothing and he got nothing. Some one has said that he went into the temple not to pray but to boast. The sun and the moon were as far apart as these two men. One was altogether of a different spirit to the other. The one prayed with his head, and the other with his heart. The one told God what a wonderfully great and good man he was: "I am not as other men or even as this publican." His prayer was not a long one; it consisted of thirty-four words; yet there were five capital "I's" in it. It was self in the beginning, self in the middle, self in the end--self all through. "'I fast twice a week;' 'I give tithes of all I possess;' I am a wonderfully good man, am I not, Lord?" He struck a balance twice a week, and God was his debtor every time. He paraded his good deeds before God and man. Such a one was not in a condition to receive the favor of God. You can divide the human family to-day into two classes--pharisees and publicans. There are those who are poor in spirit: the dew of God's grace will fall upon them. There are others who are drawing around them the rags of their self-righteousness: they will always go away without the blessing of God. There were but seven words in the prayer of the Publican: "God be merciful to me a sinner!" He came to God confessing his sins, and asking for mercy; and he received it. If you were to run through Scripture, you would find that where men have gone to God in the spirit of the Publican, He has dealt with them in mercy and grace. A young man came to one of our meetings in New York a few years ago. He was convicted of sin; and he made up his mind he would go home and pray. He lived a number of miles away, and he started for home. On the way, as he was meditating about his sins and wondering what he was going to do when he got home, the thought occurred to him: "Why should I not pray right here in the street?" But he found he did not know just how to begin. Then he remembered that when he was a child, his mother had taught him this prayer of the Publican: "God be merciful to me a sinner!" So he began just where he stood. He said afterwards, that before he got to the little word "me," God met him in grace, and blessed him. And so the moment we open our lips to ask God for pardon, if the request comes from the heart, God will meet us in mercy. Let our cry be that of the Publican: "Be merciful _to me!_"--not to some one else. A mother was telling me some time ago that she had trouble with one of her sons, because he had not treated his brother rightly. She sent him upstairs; and after awhile she asked him what he had been doing. He replied that he had been _praying for his brother!_ Although he had been the naughty one, he was acting as if the fault lay with his brother instead of himself. So many of us can see the failings of others readily enough but when we get a good look at ourselves, we will get down before God as the Publican did and cry for mercy: and that cry will bring an immediate answer. God delights to deal in grace with the poor in spirit. He wants to see in us a broken and contrite heart. If we take the place of a sinner, confessing our sins and asking for mercy, the grace of God will meet us right then and there; and we shall have the assurance of His forgiveness. In Matthew we see how God deals in grace with those who come in the right spirit. "Then came she and worshipped Him, saying, Lord, help me!" But he answered and said, "It is not meet to take the children's bread, and to cast it to dogs." And she said, "Truth, Lord: yet the dogs eat of the crumbs which fall from their master's table." Then Jesus answered and said unto her, "O woman, great is thy faith: be it unto thee even as thou wilt. And her daughter was made whole from that very hour." The disciples did not understand how full of grace was the heart of Christ. This poor woman belonged to the far-off coasts of Tyre and Sidon. She was a poor Gentile, and they wanted to send her away. They thought she was not one of the elect; she did not belong to the house of Israel. So they said to the Master, "Send her away, for she crieth after us." Can you conceive of the loving Saviour sending away a poor troubled one who comes to Him? I challenge you to find a single instance of His doing such a thing, from the beginning to the end of His ministry. Send her away! I believe He would rather send an angel away than a poor suppliant for His mercy; He delighted to have such as she come to Him. But He was going to test her, as well as to give an object-lesson to those who should come after. "It is not meet," He said, "to take the children's bread, and to cast it to dogs." A HUMBLE SPIRIT. I am afraid if some of us had been in her place we would have answered somewhat in this fashion: "You call me a Gentile dog, do you? I would not take anything from you now if you were to give it to me. Why, I know a Jewish woman who lives in my town. Though she is a daughter of Abraham she is the meanest woman in the whole street. I would not let my dogs associate with her." If this poor woman had replied to the Master in such a fashion, she would not have got anything. Yet you will find a good many men who respond to the Saviour in that way when He wants to deal in grace with them. What does this Gentile woman say? "Truth Lord; yet the dogs eat of the crumbs which fall from their masters' table." She took her right place down at the feet of the blessed Master. There was humility for you! She was willing to take any place if the Lord would but meet her need; the Lord blessed her. See asked for a crumb, and He gave her a whole loaf! I once heard Rev. William Arnot say that he was the guest of a friend who had a favorite dog. The animal would come into the room where the family were sitting at the dinner table and would stand looking at his master. If the master threw him a crumb, the dog would seize it before it got to the floor. But if he put the joint of meat down on the floor the dog would look at it and leave it alone, as if it were too good for him. "So," said Mr. Arnot, "there are many Christians who are satisfied to live on crumbs, when God wants to give them the whole joint." A FULL BLESSING. This poor woman got all she wanted; and if we will come in the right spirit--if we are humble and poor in spirit--and call upon God for what we want, He will not disappoint us. She went right to the Son of God, and appealed to His great loving heart with the cry, "Lord help me!" and he helped her. Let that cry go up to him today, and see how quickly the answer will come. I never knew a case where God did not answer right on the spot, where there was the spirit of meekness. If on the other hand we are conceited, and think we have a right to come, putting ourselves on an equality with God, we shall get nothing. "WORTHINESS." In the Gospel by Luke we read of the centurion who had a sick servant. He felt as though he were not worthy to go himself and ask Christ to come to his house; so he asked some of his friends to beseech the Master to come and heal his servant. They went and delivered the centurion's message, saying, "He is worthy for whom Thou shouldst do this: for he loveth our nation, and he hath built us a synagogue." The Jews could not understand grace; so they thought Christ would grant the request of this man, because he was worthy. "Why," they said, "he hath built us a synagogue!" It is the same old story that we hear to-day. Let a man give a few thousand dollars to build a church and he must have the best pew; "he is worthy." Perhaps he made his money by selling or making strong drink; but he has put the Church under an obligation by this gift of money, and he is considered "worthy." The same spirit was at work in the days of Christ. The Master immediately started for the centurion's house; and it looked as though He were going because of his personal worthiness. But if He had done so, it would have upset the whole story as an illustration of grace. As the Saviour was on the way, out came the Roman officer himself and told Jesus that he was not worthy to receive Him under his roof. He had a very different opinion of himself to that of his Jewish friends. Suppose he had said, "Lord, you will be my guest; come and heal my servant because I am worthy: I have built a synagogue." Do you think Christ would have gone? I do not think he would. But he said, "I am not worthy that Thou shouldst enter under my roof. Neither thought I myself worthy to come unto Thee; but say in a word, and my servant shall be healed." Jesus marveled at the man's faith. It pleased Him wonderfully to find such faith and humility. Like the Syro-Phenician woman, he had low thoughts of himself, and high thoughts of God: therefore he was in a condition to receive the grace of God. His servant, we are told, was healed that very hour. His petition was granted at once. Let us learn a lesson from this man, and take a humble position before God, crying to him for mercy; then help will come. GREAT FORGIVENESS. I never noticed till lately an interesting fact about the story of the poor sinful woman mentioned in Luke's Gospel, who went into Simon's house. If you have not observed it before, it will be quite interesting for you to know it. The incident occurred immediately after Christ had uttered those memorable words we read in Matthew: "Come unto Me, all ye that labor and are heavy-laden, and I will give you rest." Matthew closes the narrative there; but in the seventh chapter of Luke you will find what the result of that invitation was. A poor fallen woman came into the house where He was, and obtained the blessing of rest to her soul. I think that many ministers will bear me out in this statement, that when one has preached to a large congregation, and has given an invitation to those who would like to remain and talk about salvation, probably the only one to do so is a poor fallen one, who will thus become a partaker of the grace of God. We find that the Saviour was invited to the house of Simon, a Pharisee. While he was there, this poor sinful woman crept into the house. Perhaps she watched for a chance when the servants were away from the door, and then slipped into the room where the Master was. She got down on her knees, and began to wash his feet with her tears, wiping them with the hairs of her head. While the feast was going on the Pharisee saw this; and he said to himself: "Jesus must be a bad man, if He knows who this poor woman is. Even if He did not know, He would be unclean according to the Mosaic law"--because he had allowed the woman to touch Him. But the Master knew what Simon was thinking about. He put some questions to him: "And Jesus answering said unto him, Simon, I have somewhat to say unto thee. And he saith, Master, say on. There was a certain creditor which had two debtors: the one owed five hundred pence, and the other fifty. And when they had nothing to pay, he frankly forgave them both. Tell me therefore, which of them will love him most? Simon answered and said, I suppose that he to whom he forgave most. And He said unto him, Thou hast rightly judged." Then He makes the application, "I came to your house," He says, "and you gave me no water for my feet; you gave me no kiss; and no oil for my head. You refused me the common hospitalities of life." In those days when one went into a gentleman's house, a servant would be at the door with a basin of water; the guest would slip off his sandals, and the servant would wash his feet. Then the master of the house would salute him with a kiss instead of shaking hands as we do. There would also be oil for his head. Christ had been invited to Simon's house; but the Pharisee had got Him there in a patronizing spirit. "You gave me no water, no kiss, no oil; but this woman hath washed my feet with her tears, and wiped them with the hairs of her head: she hath not ceased to kiss my feet, and she hath anointed them with ointment. She was forgiven much: and so she loves much." To the poor woman herself Jesus said, "Thy sins are forgiven." They may have risen up like a dark mountain before her; but one word from the Saviour and they were all gone! The spirit shown by Simon was altogether different from that of the poor woman. Christ said that the publicans and harlots would go into the kingdom of God before the self-righteous Pharisees! Simon, the Pharisee, got nothing; and so there are many who go away from religious meetings without one drop of heaven's dew, because they do not seek for it. From the morning of the creation down to the present time no man or woman ever went to God with a broken heart without experiencing the forgiving love and grace of God, if they believed His Word. It was so with this poor woman. Notice, the Master did not extract any pledge or promise from her. He did not ask her to join some synagogue; all He said was, "Thy sins are forgiven thee." She found grace. So it was with the Syro-Phenician woman. Christ did not ask any pledge from her; He met her in grace, and blessed her according to her soul's desire. You know what touched the heart of the father of the prodigal; it was the broken and contrite spirit of his returning son. Would not the same thing move the heart of any parent here? Suppose you had a son who had gone astray: the boy comes home; and when you meet him he begins to confess his sin. Would you not take him to your bosom and forgive him? Nothing in the wide world would you more readily do than forgive him. So if we come to God with this contrite spirit, He will deal in grace with us and receive us freely, When Saul left Jerusalem, there was nothing he wished for less than to receive the grace of God. Yet the moment he said, "Lord, what wilt Thou have me to do?" the forgiving grace of the Master flowed out towards him. We are told by Matthew and Mark that the thief on the cross, who was converted, railed on the Saviour at first like the other: but the moment his heart was broken down and he said, "Lord, remember me!" that very moment Christ heard and answered his prayer. God is waiting to cover all your sins today; He has a long and a strong arm that can reach down to the darkest, vilest, deepest depths of sin. He will lift you up on a rock, and put a new song into your mouth. Will you let him do it? A man was telling me some time ago that he had prayed for over ten years that God would have mercy upon him. "Has not God answered your prayer?" "No." "Indeed! Let me ask you one question: suppose I offered you that Bible as a gift, and you were afterwards to come and ask me for it; what would I think of you?" "I do not know what you would think." "Well, but what do you suppose I would think?" "You would perhaps think I had gone a little wrong in my head." "What is the use of your asking that God would deal in grace with you, if you are not willing to receive it; or if you do not believe that He gives it to you?" When I was on the Pacific coast some years ago, I stayed with a friend who had a large garden, with a great many orange trees. He said to me: "Make yourself perfectly at home; if you see anything you want just help yourself." When I wanted some oranges, I did not go into the garden and pray to the oranges to tumble into my mouth; I just put out my hand and took all I required. So it is with us. Why should we go on asking and beseeching God to have mercy upon us, when He has already given His Son, and given His Holy Spirit? What we need is to have a broken and a contrite heart, and to be willing to receive Him. The trouble with us is that we have locked the doors of our hearts against Him. There is a story that Dr. Arnot was accustomed to tell of a poor woman who was in great distress because she could not pay her landlord his rent. The Doctor put some money in his pocket and went round to her house intending to help her. When he got there he knocked at the door. He thought he heard some movement inside; but no one came to open the door. He knocked louder and louder still; but yet no one came. Finally he kicked at the door, causing some of neighbors to look out and see what was going on. But he could get no entrance; and at last he went away thinking his ears must have deceived him, and that there was really no one there. A day or two afterwards he met the woman in the street, and told her what had happened. She held up her hands and exclaimed, "Was that you? I was in the house all the while; but I thought it was the landlord, and I had the door locked!" Many people are keeping the door of their heart locked against the Saviour in just the same way. They say "I am afraid I shall have to give up so much." That is something like a ragged beggar being unwilling to give up his rags, in order to get a new suit of good clothes. I pity those people who are all the time looking to see what they will have to give up. God wants to bestow His marvelous grace on His people; and there is not a soul who has believed on Jesus, for whom God has not abundance of grace in store. What would you say of a man dying of thirst on the banks of a beautiful river, with the stream flowing past his feet? You would think he was mad! The river of God's grace flows on without ceasing; why should we not partake of it, and go on our way rejoicing? Do you say you are sinners? It is just to such as you that God's grace is given. There was a sailor whose mother had long been praying for him. I do think mothers' prayers are sure to be answered some day. One night the memory of his mother came home to this man; he thought of the days of his childhood, and made up his mind he would try and lead a different life. When he got to New York he thought he would join the Odd-fellows; he imagined that would be a good way to begin. What miserable mistakes men make when they get trying to save themselves! This man applied to a lodge of Odd-fellows for admission; but the committee found that he was a drinking man, and so they black-balled him. Then he thought he would try the Freemasons; they discovered what sort of a man he was, and they black-balled him too. One day he was walking along Fulton Street, when he received an invitation to come to the daily prayer-meeting held there. He went in, and heard about the Saviour; he received Christ into his heart, and found the peace and power he wanted. Some days after he stood up in the meeting and told the story how the Odd-fellows had black-balled him; how the Freemasons had black-balled him; and how he came to the Lord Jesus Christ, who had not black-balled him, but took him right in. That is what Christ will do to every poor penitent sinner. "This Man receiveth sinners." Come to Him to-day, and He will receive you: His marvelous, sovereign grace will cover and put away all your sins. I am so glad that we have a Saviour who can save unto the very uttermost. He can save the drunkard, the man who for years has been the slave of his passions. I was talking to a friend not long ago, who said that if a man had a father and a mother who were drunkards, he would inherit the taste for drink, and that there was not much chance of saving him. I want to say that there is a grand chance for such men, if they will call upon Jesus Christ to save them. He is able to destroy the very appetite for drink. He came to destroy the works of the devil; and if this appetite for gin and whiskey is not the work of the devil, I want to know what is. I do not know any more terrible agency that the devil has got than this intoxicating liquor. An Englishman went out from England to Chicago, and became one of the greatest drunkards in that city. His father and his mother were drunkards before him. He said that when he was four years old, his father took him into a public-house, and put the liquor to his lips. By and by he got a taste for it; and for several years he was a confirmed drunkard. He became what in America we call a "tramp." He slept out of doors. One night, on the shore of a lake, he awoke from his slumber, and began to call upon God to save him. There, at the midnight hour, this poor, wretched, forlorn object got victory over his sin. The last time I met him he had been nine-and-a-half years a sober man. From that memorable midnight hour, he said, he had never had any desire to touch or taste strong drink. God had kept him all those years. I am so thankful we have a Gospel that we can carry into the home of the drunkard, and tell him that Christ will save him. That is the very thing He came to do. Bunyan represents the power of grace, as shown by its first offer to the Jerusalem sinners, the murderers of Christ, thus: "Repent, every one of you: be baptized, every one of you, in His name, for the remission of sins; and you shall, every one of you, receive the Holy Ghost." "But I was one of those who plotted to take away His life. May I be saved by Him?" "Every one of you." "But I was one of those who bore false witness against Him. Is there grace for me?" "For every one of you." "But I was one of those who cried out, Crucify Him! crucify Him! and who desired that Barrabas, the murderer, might live, rather than He. What will become of me, think you?" "I am to preach repentance and remission of sins to every one of you." "But I was one of those who did spit in His face when He stood before His accusers; I also was one that mocked Him when, in anguish, He hung bleeding on the tree. Is there room for me?" "For every one of you." "But I was one of those who, in His extremity, said, Give Him gall and vinegar to drink! Why may I not expect the same when pain and anguish are upon me?" "Repent of these thy wickednesses; and here is remission of sins for every one of you." "But I railed on Him; I reviled Him; I hated Him; I rejoiced to see Him mocked at by others. Can there be hope for me?" "There is; for every one of you." Oh, what a blessed "Every-one-of-you" is here! How willing was Peter and the Lord Jesus by the ministry of Peter--to catch these murderers with the word of the Gospel, that they might be monuments of the grace of God! Now it is a solemn fact that every one who receives the offer of the Gospel can lock and bolt the door of his heart, and say to the Lord Jesus Christ he refuses to let Him in. But it is also a blessed truth that you can unlock that door and say to Him, "Welcome! thrice welcome, Son of God, into this heart of mine!" The question is: Will you let Christ come in and save you? It is not a question of whether He is able. Who will open their hearts, and let the Saviour come in? "There's a stranger at the door: Let Him in! He has been there oft before: Let Him in! Let Him in, ere He is gone; Let Him in, the Holy One, Jesus Christ, the Father's Son: Let Him in! Open now to Him your heart: Let Him in! If you wait He will depart: Let Him in! Let Him in, He is your Friend; He your soul will sure defend; He will keep you to the end: Let Him in! Hear you now His loving voice? Let Him in! Now, oh now, make Him your choice: Let Him in! He is standing at the door; Joy to you He will restore, And His name you will adore: Let Him in! Now admit the heavenly Guest. Let Him in! He will make for you a feast: Let Him in! He will speak your sins forgiven, And when earth-ties all are riven, He will take you home to heaven, Let Him in!" _Rev. J. B Atchinson_ CHAPTER V. LAW AND GRACE. IN his Epistle to the Romans, Paul writes "For as by one man's disobedience many were made sinners, so by the obedience of One shall many be made righteous. Moreover, the law entered that the offense might abound. But where sin abounded, grace did much more abound: that as sin hath reigned unto death, even so might grace reign through righteousness unto eternal life by Jesus Christ our Lord." Moses was the representative of the law. You remember that he led the children of Israel through the wilderness, and brought them to Jordan; but there he left them. He could take them up to the river, which is a type of death and judgment; but Joshua (which means Jesus--Saviour) led them right through death and judgment--through the Jordan into the Promised Land. Here we have the difference between Law and Grace; between the Law and the Gospel. Take another illustration. John the Baptist was the last prophet of the old dispensation--the last prophet under the law. You remember that before Christ made His appearance at the Jordan, the cry of John, day by day was, "Repent: for the kingdom of God is at hand!" He thundered out the law. He took his hearers down to the Jordan and baptized them. He put them in the place of death; and that was as far as he could take them. But there was One coming after him who could take them into the Promised Land. As Joshua led the people through the Jordan into Canaan,--so Christ went down into the Jordan of death, through death and judgment, on to resurrection ground. If you run all through Scripture you will find that the law brings to death. "Sin reigned unto death." A friend was telling me lately that an acquaintance of his, a minister, was once called upon to officiate at a funeral, in the place of a chaplain of one of Her Majesty's prisons, who was absent. He noticed that only one solitary man followed the body of the criminal to the grave. When the grave had been covered, this man told the minister that he was an officer of the law whose duty it was to watch the body of the culprit until it was buried out of sight; that was "the end" of the British law. And that is what the law of God does to the sinner; it brings him right to death, and leaves him there. I pity deep down in my heart those who are trying to save themselves by the law. It never has; it never will; and it never can--save the soul. When people say they are going to try and do their best, and so save themselves by the law, I like to take them on their own ground. Have they, ever done their very best? granting that there _might_ be a chance for them if they had, was there ever a time when they could not have done a little better? If a man wants to do his best, let him accept the grace of God; that is the best thing that any man or woman can possibly do. But you will ask, What is the law given for? It may sound rather strange, but it is given that it may stop every man's mouth. "We know that what things soever the law saith, it saith to them who are under the law: that every mouth may be stopped, and all the world may become guilty before God. Therefore by the deeds of the law there shall no flesh be justified in His sight; for by the law is the knowledge of sin." The law shuts my mouth; grace opens it. The law locks up my heart; grace opens it--and then the fountain of love begins to flow out. When men get their eyes opened to see this glorious truth, they will cease their constant struggle. They will give up trying to work their way into the kingdom of God by the deeds of the law. They will give themselves up for lost, and take salvation as a free gift. Life never came through the law. As some one has observed: When the law was given, three thousand men lost life; but when grace and truth came at Pentecost, three thousand obtained life. Under the law, if a man became a drunkard the magistrates would take him out and stone him to death. When the prodigal came home, grace met him and embraced him. Law says, Stone him!--grace says, Embrace him! Law says, Smite him!--grace says, Kiss him! Law went after him, and bound him; grace said, loose him and let him go! Law tells me how crooked I am; grace comes and makes me straight. I pity those who are always hanging around Sinai, hoping to get life there. I have an old friend in Chicago who is always lingering at Sinai. He is a very good man; but I think he will have a different story to tell when he gets home to heaven. He thinks I preach free grace too much; and I must confess I do like to speak of the free grace of God. This friend of mine feels as though he has a kind of mission to follow me; and whenever he gets a chance he comes in with the thunders of Sinai. I never yet met him but he was thundering away from Horeb. The last time I was in Chicago, I said to him, "Are you still lingering around Sinai?" "Yes," said he, "I believe in the law." I have made inquiries, and I never heard of any one being converted under his preaching: the effects have always dwindled and died out. If the law is the door to heaven, there is no hope for any of us. A perfect God can only have a perfect standard. He that offends in one point is guilty of all: so "all have sinned and come short of the glory of God." Paul says to the Galatians: "Is the law then against the promises of God? God forbid: for if there had been a law given which could have given life, verily righteousness should have been by the law. But the Scripture hath concluded all under sin that the promise by faith of Jesus Christ might be given to them that believe. But before faith came, we were kept under the law, shut up unto the faith which should afterwards be revealed. Wherefore the law was our schoolmaster to bring us unto Christ, that we might be justified by faith. But after that faith is come, we are no longer under a schoolmaster. For ye are all the children of God by faith in Jesus Christ." THE SOFTENING POWER OF GRACE. So we see that the law cannot give life; all it can do is to bring us to Him who is the life. The law is said to be "a schoolmaster." Perhaps some of you do not know what a schoolmaster is. If you had been under the same schoolmaster as I was when a boy you would have known. He had a good cane and it was frequently in use. In the little country district where I went to school, there were two parties: for the sake of illustration we may call the one the "law" party and the other the "grace" party. The law party said that boys could not possibly be controlled without the cane: and they kept a schoolmaster there who acted on their plan. The struggle went on, and at last, on one election day, the law party was put out, and the grace party ruled in their stead. I happened to be at the school at that time; and I remember we said to each other that we were going to have a grand time that winter. There would be no more corporal punishment, and we were going to be ruled by love. I was one of the first to break the rules of the school. We had a lady teacher, and she asked me to stay behind. I thought the cane was coming out again; and I was going to protest against it. I was quite in a fighting mood. She took me alone. She sat down and began to talk to me kindly. I thought that was worse than the cane; I did not like it. I saw that she had not got any cane. She said: "I have made up my mind that if I cannot control the school by love, I will give it up. I will have no punishment; and if you love me, try and keep the rules of the school." I felt something right here in my throat. I was not one to shed many tears; but they would come--I could not keep them back. I said to her, "You will have no more trouble with me;" and she did not. I learned more that winter than in the other three put together. That was the difference between law and grace. Christ says, "If you love Me, keep My commandments." He takes us out from under the law, and puts us under grace. Grace will break the hardest heart. It was the love of God that prompted Him to send His only-begotten Son into the world that He might save it. I suppose the thief had gone through his trial unsoftened. Probably the law had hardened his heart. But on the cross no doubt that touching prayer of the Saviour, "Father, forgive them!" broke his heart, so that he cried, "Lord, remember me!" He was brought to ask for mercy. I believe there is no man so far gone but the grace of God will melt his heart. It is told of Isaac T. Hopper, the Quaker, that he once encountered a profane colored man, named Cain, in Philadelphia, and took him before a magistrate, who fined him for blasphemy. Twenty years after, Hopper met Cain, whose appearance was much changed for the worse. This touched the Friend's heart. He stepped up, spoke kindly, and shook hands with the forlorn being. "Dost thou remember me," said the Quaker, "how I had thee fined for swearing?" "Yes, indeed, I do: I remember what I paid as well as if it was yesterday." "Well, did it do thee any good?" "No, never a bit: it made me mad to have my money taken from me." Hopper invited Cain to reckon up the interest on the fine, and paid him principal and interest too. "I meant it for thy good, Cain; and I am sorry I did thee any harm." Cain's countenance changed; the tears rolled down his cheeks. He took the money with many thanks, became a quiet man, and was not heard to swear again. PEACE, GRACE AND GLORY. So there is a great deal of difference between law and grace. "Being justified by faith we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ; by whom also we have access by faith into this grace wherein we stand, and rejoice in hope of the glory of God." There are three precious things here: peace for the past; grace for the present; and glory for the future. There is no peace until we see the finished work of Jesus Christ--until we can look back and see the Cross of Christ between us and our sins. When we see that Jesus was "the end of the law for righteousness;" that He "tasted death for every man;" that He "suffered the Just for the unjust"--then comes peace. Then there is "the grace wherein we now stand." There is plenty of grace for us as we need it day by day, and hour by hour. Then there is glory for the time to come. A great many people seem to forget that the best is before us. Dr. Bonar says that everything before the true believer is "glorious." This thought took hold of my soul; and I began to look the matter up, and see what I could find in Scripture that was glorious hereafter. I found that the kingdom we are going to inherit is glorious: our crown is to be a "crown of glory;" the city we are going to inhabit is the city of the glorified; the songs we are to sing are the songs of the glorified; we are to wear garments of "glory and beauty;" our society will be the society of the glorified; our rest is to be "glorious;" the country to which we are going is to be full of "the glory of God and of the Lamb." There are many who are always looking on the backward path, and mourning over the troubles through which they have passed; they keep lugging up the cares and anxieties they have been called on to bear, and are forever looking at them. Why should we go reeling and staggering under the burdens and cares of life when we have such prospects before us? If there is nothing but glory beyond, our faces ought to shine brightly all the time. If a skeptic were to come up here and watch the countenances of the audience he would find many of you looking as though there was anything but glory before you. Many a time it seems to me as if I were at a funeral, people look so sad and downcast. They do not appear to know much of the joy of the Lord. Surely if we were looking right on to the glory that awaits us, our faces would be continually lit up with the light of the upper world. We can preach by our countenances if we will. The nearer we draw to that glory-land, where we shall be with Christ--the more peace, and joy, and rest we ought to have. If we will but come to the throne of grace, we shall have strength to bear all our troubles and trials. If you were to take all the afflictions that flesh is heir to and put them right on any one of us, God has grace enough to carry us right through without faltering. Some one has compiled the following, which beautifully describes the contrast between law and grace: The Law was given by Moses. Grace and truth came by Jesus Christ. The Law says--This do, and thou shalt live. Grace says--Live, and then thou shalt do. The Law says--Pay me that thou owest. Grace says--I frankly forgive thee all. The Law says--The wages of sin is death. GRACE says--The gift of God is eternal life. The Law says--The soul that sinneth, it shall die. Grace says--Whosoever believeth in Jesus, though he were dead, yet shall he live; and whosoever liveth and believeth in Him shall never die. The Law pronounces--Condemnation and death. Grace proclaims--Justification and life. The Law says--Make you a new heart and a new spirit. Grace says--A new heart will I give you, and a new spirit will I put within you. The Law says--Cursed is every one that continueth not in all things which are written in the book of the law to do them. Grace says--Blessed is the man whose iniquities are forgiven, whose sin is covered; blessed is the man to whom the Lord will not impute iniquity. The Law says--Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy mind, and with all thy strength. Grace says--Herein is love: not that we love God, but that He loved us, and sent His Son to be the propitiation for our sins. The Law speaks of what man must do for God. Grace tells of what Christ has done for man. The Law addresses man as part of the old creation. Grace makes a man a member of the new creation. The Law bears on a nature prone to disobedience. Grace creates a nature inclined to obedience. The Law demands obedience by the terror of the Lord. Grace beseeches men by the mercies of God. The Law demands holiness. Grace gives holiness. The Law says--Condemn him. Grace says--Embrace him. The Law speaks of priestly sacrifices offered year by year continually, which could never make the comers thereunto perfect. Grace says--But this _Man_, after he had offered _one_ sacrifice for sins forever . . . by one offering hath perfected forever them that are sanctified. The Law declares--That as many as have sinned in the Law, shall be judged by the Law. Grace brings eternal peace to the troubled soul of every child of God, and proclaims _God's_ salvation in defiance of the accusations of the adversary. "He that heareth My word, and believeth on Him that sent me, hath everlasting life, and shall not come into judgment (condemnation), but is passed from death unto life." "Whence to me this tranquil spirit-- Me all sinful as I am? Is it thus descends the merit Of the sin-atoning Lamb? Grace, all power to deliver, Gift of a Creative Giver, Like a full, refreshing river, Ever flowing. Over all my course of sinning Spread its waters without bound, Cleansing, fertilizing, winning For the Lord the barren ground. Lavish from the heavenly treasure, Fountains of a Father's pleasure, All the marks of human measure Overflowing. Not my virtue or repenting Earned the precious boon for me. Thine, my Saviour, the relenting, Thine the pangs which set me free-- Gift of grace beyond all knowing, From the heart of Jesus flowing, Ever flowing, overflowing, Flowing freely." CHAPTER VI. GRACE FOR LIVING. NOW we come to a very important part of our subject--Grace for living. One of the saddest things in the present day is the fact that so many professed Christians have no spiritual power. They bear no testimony for Christ. There are so few who can go to the homes of the sick and read the Bible to them, pray with them, and minister comfort to their souls. How few can go to the abode of the drunkard, and tell him of Christ's power to save! How few there are who are wise in winning souls to Christ! It is the low spiritual state of so many in the Church of Christ that is the trouble. We are not living up to our privileges. As you go through the streets of London you will see here and there the words, "Limited Company." There are many Christians who practically limit the grace of God. It is like a river flowing by; and we can have all we need: but if we do not come and get a continual supply, we cannot give it out to others. Mother! father! are you not longing to see your children won to Christ? What is the trouble? Is it the fault of the minister? I believe that though ministers were to preach like angels, if there is a low standard of Christian life in the home, there will be little accomplished. What we want, more than anything else, is more grace in our lives, in our business affairs, in our homes, in our daily walk and conversation. I cannot but believe that the reason of the standard of Christian life being so low, is that we are living on stale manna. You know what I mean by that. So many people are living on their past experience--thinking of the grand times they had twenty years ago, perhaps when they were converted. It is a sure sign that we are out of communion with God if we are talking more of the joy, and peace, and power, we had in the past, than of what we have to-day. We are told to "grow in grace;" but a great many are growing the wrong way. You remember the Israelites used to gather the manna fresh every day: they were not allowed to store it up. There is a lesson here for us Christians. If we would be strong and vigorous, we must go to God daily and get grace. A man can no more take in a supply of grace for the future than he can eat enough to-day to last him for the next six months; or take sufficient air into his lungs at once to sustain life for a week to come. We must draw upon God's boundless stores of grace from day to day, as we need it. I knew a man who lived on the banks of Lake Erie. He had pipes laid to his house from the lake; and when he wanted water, all he had to do was to turn the tap and the water flowed in. If the Government had presented him with the lake, he would not have known what to do with it. So we may say that if God were to give us grace enough for a lifetime, we should not know how to use it. He has given us the privilege of drawing on Him day by day--not "forty days after sight." There is plenty of grace in the bank of heaven; we need not be afraid of its becoming exhausted. We are asked to come _boldly_ to the throne of grace--as sons to a father--that we may find grace. You have noticed that a son is very much more bold in his father's house than if he were simply a servant. A good many Christians are like servants. If you go into a house, you can soon tell the difference between the family and the servants. A son comes home in the evening; he goes all over the house--perhaps talks about the letters that have come in, and wants to know all that has been going on in the family during his absence. It is very different with a servant, who perhaps does not leave the kitchen or the servants' hall all day except when duty requires it. Suppose some one had paid a million dollars into the bank in your name, and had given you a check-book so that you could draw out just as you wanted: would you go to work and try to live on ten dollars a month? Yet that is exactly what many of us are doing as Christians. I believe this low standard of Christian life in the Church is doing more to manufacture infidels than all the skeptical books that were ever written. Hear what the Apostle says: "My God shall supply _all_ your need." Look at these words carefully. It does not say He will supply all your _wants_. There are many things we want that God has not promised to give. It is "your _need_" and "_all_ your need." My children often want many things they do not get; but I supply all they need, if it is in my power to give it to them. I do not supply all their wants by any means. My boy would probably want to have me give him a horse; when I know that what he really needs, perhaps, is grace to control his temper. Our children might want many things that it would be injurious for them to have. And so, though God may withhold from us many things that we desire, He will supply all our need. There can come upon us no trouble or trial in this life, but God has grace enough to carry us right through it, if we will only go to Him and get it. But we must ask for it day by day. "As thy days, so shall thy strength be." I met a man once in Scotland who taught me a lesson that I shall never forget. A Christian friend wanted me to go and have a talk with him. He had been bedridden for many years. This afflicted saint comforted me and told me some wonderful things. He had fallen and broken his back when he was about fifteen years of age, and had lain there on his bed for some forty years. He could not be moved without a good deal of pain, and probably not a day has passed all those years without suffering. If any one had told him he was going to lie there and suffer for forty years, probably he would have said he could not do it. But day after day the grace of God has been granted to him; and I declare to you it seemed to me as if I were in the presence of one of God's most highly-favored children. It seemed that when I was in that man's chamber, I was about as near heaven as I could get on this earth. Talk about a man's face shining with the glory of the upper world! I very seldom see a face that shines as did his. I can imagine that the very angels when they are passing over the city on some mission of mercy, come down into that man's chamber to get refreshed. There he has been lying all these years, not only without a murmur, but rejoicing all the while. I said to him: "My friend, does the devil never tempt you to doubt God, and to think He is a hard master?" "Well now," he said, "that is just what he tries to do. Sometimes, as I look out of the window and see people walking along in health, Satan whispers: 'If God is so good, why does He keep you here all these weary years? Why, if He loved you, instead of lying here and being dependent on others, you might now have been a rich man, and riding in your own carriage.'" "What do you do when the devil tempts you?" "Oh, I just take him up to the Cross; and he had such a fright there eighteen hundred years ago, that he cannot stand it; and he leaves me." I do not think that bedridden saint has much trouble with doubts; he is so full of grace. And so if we will only come boldly to God, we shall get all the help and strength we need. There is not a man or woman alive but may be kept from falling, if they will let God hold them up in His almighty arms. There is a story in the history of Elisha the prophet that I am very fond of; most of you are familiar with it. Sometimes we meet with people who hesitate to accept Christ, because they are so afraid they will not hold out. You remember there was a young prophet who died and left a widow with two little boys. It has been said that misfortunes do not come singly, but in battalions. This woman had not only lost her husband, but a creditor was going to take her boys and sell them into slavery. That was a common thing in those days. The widow went and told Elisha all about it. He asked her what she had in the house. Nothing, she said, but a pot of oil. It was a very hard case. Elisha told her to go home and borrow all the vessels she could. His command was: "Borrow not a few." I like that. She took him at his word, and borrowed all the vessels her neighbors would lend to her. I can imagine I see the woman and her two sons going from house to house asking the loan of their vessels. No doubt there were a good many of the neighbors who were stretching their necks, and wondering what it all meant; just as we sometimes find people coming into the inquiry-room to see what is going on. If this woman had been like some modern skeptics, she would have thought it very absurd for the prophet to bid her do such a thing; she would have asked what good could come of it. But faith asks no questions: so she went and did what the man of God told her to do. I can see her going up one side of the street knocking at every door and asking for empty vessels. "How many do you want?" "All you can spare." There are the two sons carrying the great vessels; some of them perhaps nearly as large as the boys themselves. It was hard work. When they had finished one side of the street, they went down the other. "Borrow not a few," she had been told; so she went on asking for as many as she could get. If there were as much gossip in those days as there is now, all the people in the street would have been talking about her. Why, this woman and her boys have been carrying vessels into the house all day; what can be the matter? But now they have all the vessels the neighbors would lend. She locks the door; and she says to one of the boys, "James, you are the younger; bring me the empty vessels. John, you are the stronger; when, I have filled them you take them away." So she began to pour. Perhaps the first vessel was twice as big as the one she poured from; but it was soon filled: and she kept on pouring into vessel after vessel. At last her son says, "Mother, this is the last one;" and we are told that the oil was not stayed till the last vessel was full. Dear friends, bring your empty vessels; and God will fill them. I venture to say that the eyes of those boys sparkled as they saw this beautiful oil, fresh from the hand of the Creator. The woman went and told the man of God what had happened; he said to her, "Go, sell the oil, and pay thy debt; and live thou and thy children off the rest." That is grace for the present, and for the future. "As thy days so shall thy strength be." You will have grace not only to cover all your sins, but to carry you right into glory. Let the grace of God into your heart; and He will bring you safely through. Let me close by quoting the words of an old prayer: "God give us grace to see our need of grace; give us grace to ask for grace; give us grace to receive grace; give us grace to use the grace we have received." "Grace taught my soul to pray, And pardoning love to know; 'Twas grace that kept me to this day, And will not let me go. Grace all the work shall crown, Through everlasting days; It lays in heaven the topmost stone, And well deserves the praise!" CHAPTER VII. GRACE FOR SERVICE. "FOR the grace of God that bringeth salvation to all men hath appeared; teaching us that, denying ungodliness and worldly lusts, we should live soberly, righteously, and godly, in this present world; looking for that blessed hope, and the glorious appearing of the great God and our Saviour Jesus Christ, who gave Himself for us, that He might redeem us from all iniquity, and purify unto Himself a peculiar people, zealous of good works." In this wonderful passage we see grace in a threefold aspect: grace that bringeth salvation; grace for holy living; and grace for service. I have had three red-letter days in my experience: the first was, when I was converted; the next was when I got my lips opened, and I began to confess Christ; the third was, when I began to work for the salvation of others. I think there are a great many who have got to the first stage; some have got to the second; very few have got to the third. This is the reason, I believe, why the world is not reached. Many say they are anxious to "grow in grace." I do not think they ever will, until they go out into the harvest field and begin to work for others. We are not going to have the grace we need to qualify us for work until we launch out into the deep, and begin to use the abilities and the opportunities we already possess. Many fold their arms, and wait for the grace of God to come to them; but we do not get it in that way. When we "go forward," then it is that God meets us with His Grace. If Moses had stayed in Horeb until he got the grace he needed, he never would have started for Egypt at all. But when he had set out, God met him in the way and blessed him day by day as he needed. Many grow discouraged because there is a little opposition; but if we are going to work for God we must expect opposition. No real work was ever done for God without opposition. If you think that you are going to have the approval of a godless world, and of cold Christians, as you launch out into the deep with your net, you are greatly mistaken. A man said to me some time ago, that when he was converted he commenced to do some work in connection with the Church; he was greatly discouraged because some of the older Christians threw cold water on him, so he gave up the whole thing. I pity a man who cannot take a little cold water without being any the worse for it. Why, many of the Christians in old times had to go through the fire, and did not shrink from it. A little cold water never hurts any one. Others say they have so many cares and troubles, they have as much as they can carry. Well, a good way to forget your trouble is--to go and help some one else who is carrying a heavier burden than yourself. It was when Job began to pray for his friends that he forgot his own troubles. Paul gloried in his infirmity, and in the tribulations he had to undergo, so that the power of Christ might all the more rest upon him. He gloried in the Cross: and you must bear in mind that the Cross was not so easy to bear in his day as it is in ours. Every one was speaking against it. "I glory in the Cross of Christ," he said. When a man gets to that point, do you tell me that God cannot use him to build up His kingdom? In his second letter to the Corinthians, Paul speaks of "the thorn in the flesh;" he prayed the Lord to take it away. The Lord said He was not going to take it away: but He would give His servant grace to bear it. So the apostle learned to thank God for the thorn, because he got more grace. It is when the days are dark that people are brought nearer to God. I suppose that is what Paul meant. If there is any child of God who has a "thorn in the flesh," God has grace enough to help you to bear it if you will but go to Him for it. The difficulty is that so many are looking at their troubles and sorrows, instead of looking toward the glorious reward, and pressing on their way by God's help. In ii Corinthians 9:8, we read: "God is able to make all grace abound towards you; that ye, always having all sufficiency in all things, may abound to every good work." There are three thoughts here--God makes _all grace_ to abound, that we may have _all sufficiency_ in _all things_. I think this is one of the most wonderful verses in the Bible. There is plenty of grace. Many Christians, if they have grace enough to keep them from outward sin, seem to be perfectly satisfied; they do not press on to get _fullness of grace_, so as to be ready for God's work. Many are satisfied to go into the stream of grace ankle deep, when God wants them to swim in it. If we always came to meetings desiring to get strength, then we should be able to go out to work and speak for Christ. There are a great many who would be used of God, if they would only come boldly to His throne of grace, and "find grace to help in time of need." Is it not a time of need now? God has said, "I will pour water on him that is thirsty." Do we thirst for a deeper work of grace in our hearts?--for the anointing of the Spirit? Here is the promise: "I will pour water on him that is thirsty." Let all who are hungering and thirsting for blessing come and receive it. Another reason why many Christians do not get anything is--because they do not give out to others. They are satisfied with present attainments, instead of growing in grace. We are not the fountain; we are only a channel for the grace of God to flow through. There is not one of us but God wants to use in building up His kingdom. That little boy, that grey-haired man, these young men and maidens; all are needed: and there is a work for all. We want to believe that God has grace enough to qualify us to go out and work for Him. If we have known Jesus Christ for twenty years or more, and if we have not been able to introduce an anxious soul to Him, there has been something wrong somewhere. If we were full of grace, we should be ready for any call that comes to us. Paul said, when he had that famous interview with Christ on the way to Damascus, "Lord, what wilt Thou have me to do?" Isaiah said, "Here am I, send me." Oh that God would fill all His people with grace, so that we may see more wonderful things than He has ever permitted us to see! No man can tell what he can do, until he moves forward. If we do that in the name of God, instead of there being a few scores or hundreds converted, there will be thousands flocking into the Kingdom of God. Remember, that we honor God when we ask for great things. It is a humiliating thing to think that we are satisfied with very small results. It is said that Alexander the Great had a favorite General to whom he had given permission to draw upon the royal treasury for any amount. On one occasion this General had made a draft for such an enormous sum that the Treasurer refused to honor it until he consulted the Emperor. So he went into his presence and told him what the General had done. "Did you not honor the draft?" said the Emperor. "No; I refused till I had seen your Majesty; because the amount was so great." The Emperor was indignant. His Treasurer said that he was afraid of offending him if he had paid the amount. "Do you not know," replied the Emperor, "that he honors me and my kingdom by making a large draft?" Whether the story be authentic or not, it is true that we honor God when we ask for great things. It is said that on one occasion when Caesar gave a very valuable present, the receiver replied that it was too costly a gift. The Emperor answered that it was not too great for Caesar to give. Our God is a great King; and He delights to use us: so let us delight to ask Him for great grace, that we may go out and work for him. I find that many Christians are in trouble about the future; they think they will not have grace enough to die by. It is much more important that we should have grace enough to live by. It seems to me that death is of very little importance in the meantime. When the dying hour comes there will be dying grace; but you do not require dying grace to live by. If I am going to live perhaps for fifteen or twenty years, what do I want with dying grace? I am far more anxious about having grace enough for my present work. I have sometimes been asked if I had grace enough to enable me to go to the stake and die as a martyr. No; what do I want with martyr's grace? I do not like suffering; but if God should call on me to die a martyr's death, He would give me martyr's grace. If I have to pass through some great affliction, I know God will give me grace when the time comes; but I do not want it till it comes. There is a story of a martyr in the second century. He was brought before the king, and told that if he did not recant they would banish him. Said he, "O king, you cannot banish me from Christ; for He has said, I will never leave thee nor forsake thee!" The apostle John was banished to the island of Patmos; but it was the best thing that could have happened: for if John had not been sent there, probably we should never have had that grand Book of Revelation. John could not be separated from his Master. So it was with this brave martyr, of whom I was speaking. The king said to him, "Then I will take away your property from you." "You cannot do that: for my treasure is laid up on high, where you cannot get at it?" "Then I will kill you." "You can not do that; for I have been dead these forty years: my life is hid with Christ in God." The king said, "What are you going to do with such a fanatic as that?" Let us remember that if we have not grace enough for service, we have no one to blame but ourselves. We are not straitened in God: He has abundance of grace to qualify us to work for Him. MORE TO FOLLOW. I heard a story about two members of a Church: one was a wealthy man, and the other was one of those who cannot take care of their finances--he was always in debt. The rich brother had compassion on his poor brother. He wanted to give him some money; but he would not give it to the man all at once: he knew he would not use it properly. So he sent the amount to the minister, and asked him to supply the needs of this poor brother. The minister used to send him a five-dollar bill, and put on the envelope "More to follow." I can imagine how welcome the gift would be; but the best of all was the promise--"More to follow." So it is with God: there is always "more to follow." It is such a pity that we are not ready to be used by God when He wants to use us. Dear friends, let me put this question to you: Are you full of grace? You shake your head. Well, it is our privilege to be _full_. What is the best way to get full of grace? It is to be emptied of self. How can we be emptied? Suppose you wish to get the air out of this tumbler; how can you do it? I will tell you: by pouring water into the tumbler till it is full to overflowing. That is the way the Lord empties us of self. He fills us with His grace. "I will pour water on him that is thirsty." Are you hungering to get rid of your sinful selves? Then let the Spirit of God come in and fill you. God is able to do it. See what He did for John Bunyan--how He made one of the mightiest instruments for good the world ever saw, out of that swearing Bedford tinker. If we had a telescope which would enable us to look into heaven as Stephen did, I can imagine we should see the thief, who believed in Jesus while on the cross, very near the throne. Ask him how he got there; and he would tell you it was through the grace of God. See how the grace of God could save a Mary Magdalene possessed of seven devils! Ask her what it was that melted her heart: and she would tell you that it was the grace of God. Look again at that woman whom Christ met at the well at Sychar. The Saviour offered her a cup of the living water: she drank, and now she walks the chrystal pavement of heaven. See how the grace of God could change Zaccheus, the hated publican of Jericho! Now he is in yonder world of light; he was brought there by the sovereign grace of God. You will have noticed that many of those who were about the most unlikely, have, by the power of God's grace, become very eminent in His service. Look at the twelve apostles of Christ; they were all unlettered men. This ought to encourage all whose education is limited to give themselves to God's work. When our earthly work is ended, then, like our Master, we shall enter into glory. It has been well remarked: "Grace is glory militant; and glory is grace triumphant. Grace is glory begun; glory is grace made perfect. Grace is the first degree of glory: glory is the highest degree of grace." "Oh, to grace how great a debtor Daily I'm constrained to be! Let Thy grace, Lord, like a fetter, Bind my wandering heart to thee. Prone to wander, Lord, I feel it-- Prone to leave the God I love-- Here's my heart, oh take and seal it, Seal it for Thy courts above." CHAPTER VIII. A CHIME OF GOSPEL BELLS. IN Baltimore, a few years ago, we held a number of meetings for men. I am very fond of this hymn; and we used to let the choir sing the chorus over and over again, till all could sing it. "Oh, word of words the sweetest, Oh, word in which there lie All promise, all fulfillment, And end of mystery! Lamenting or rejoicing, With doubt or terror nigh, I hear the 'Come!' of Jesus, And to His cross I fly. Come! oh, come to me! Come! oh, come to me! Weary heavy-laden, Come! oh, come to Me! O soul! why shouldst thou wander From such a loving Friend? Cling closer, closer to Him, Stay with Him to the end Alas! I am so helpless, So very full of sin; For I am ever wandering, And coming back again. Oh, each time draw me nearer, That soon the 'Come!' may be Nought but a gentle whisper To one close, close to Thee; Then, over sea and mountain, Far from, or near, my home, I'll take Thy hand and follow, At that sweet whisper, 'Come!'" There was a man in one of the meetings who had been brought there against his will; he had come through some personal influence brought to bear upon him. When he got to the meeting, they were singing the chorus of this hymn-- "Come! come! come!" He said afterwards he thought he never saw so many fools together in his life before. The idea of a number of men standing there singing, "Come! come! come!" When he started home he could not get this little word out of his head; it kept coming back all the time. He went into a saloon, and ordered some whiskey, thinking to drown it. But he could not; it still kept coming back. He went into another saloon, and drank some more whiskey; but the words kept ringing in his ears: "Come! come! come!" He said to himself, "What a fool I am for allowing myself to be troubled in this way!" He went to a third saloon; had another glass, and finally got home. He went off to bed, but could not sleep; it seemed as if the very pillow kept whispering the word, "Come! Come!" He began to be angry with himself: "What a fool I was for ever going to that meeting at all!" When he got up he took the little hymn book, found the hymn, and read it over. "What nonsense!" he said to himself; "the idea of a rational man being disturbed by that hymn." He set fire to the hymn book; but he could not burn up the little word "Come!" "Heaven and earth shall pass away: but My word shall not pass away." He declared he would never go to another of the meetings; but the next night he came again. When he got there, strange to say, they were singing the same hymn. "There is that miserable old hymn again," he said; "what a fool I am for coming!" I tell you, when the Spirit of God lays hold of a man, he does a good many things he did not intend to do. To make a long story short, that man rose in a meeting of young converts, and told the story that I have now told you. Pulling out the little hymn book for he had bought another copy and opening it at this hymn, he said: "I think this hymn is the sweetest and the best in the English language. God blessed it to the saving of my soul." And yet this was the very hymn he had despised. I want to take up this little word "Come!" Sometimes people forget the text of a sermon; but this text will be short enough for any one to remember. Let me ring out a chime of Gospel bells, every one of which says, "Come!" The first bell I will ring is, COME AND HEAR! "Incline your ear, and come unto me; hear, and your soul shall live; and I will make an everlasting covenant with you, even the sure mercies of David." "Incline your ear," God says. You have sometimes seen a man who is a little deaf, and cannot catch every word, put his hand up to his ear and lean forward. I have seen a man sometimes put up both hands to his ears, as if he were determined to catch every word. I like to see that. This is the figure that the prophet uses when he says on God's behalf, "Incline your ear." Man lost spiritual life and communion with his Maker by listening to the voice of the tempter, instead of the voice of God. We get life again by listening to the voice of God. The Word of God gives life. "The words that I speak unto you," says Christ, "they are spirit, and they are life." So, what people need is--to incline their ear, and hear. It is a great thing when the Gospel preacher gets the ear of a congregation--I mean the inner ear. For a man has not only two ears in his head; he has also what we may call the outer ear, and the inner ear--the ear of the soul. You may speak to the outward ear, and not reach the ear of the soul at all. Many in these days are like the "foolish people" to whom the prophet Jeremiah spoke: "Which have eyes, and see not; which have ears, and hear not." There are many in every congregation whose attention I am not able to secure for five minutes together. Almost any little thing will divert their minds. We need to give heed to the words of the Lord: "He that hath ears to hear, let him hear." You remember when Peter was sent to Cornelius, he was to speak to him words whereby he and his house were to be saved. If you are to be saved, it must be by listening to the Word of God. Here is the promise: "Hear; and your soul shall live." There was an architect in Chicago who was converted. In giving his testimony, he said he had been in the habit of attending church for a great many years, but he could not say that he had really heard a sermon all the time. He said that when the minister gave out the text and began to preach, he used to settle himself in the corner of the pew and work out the plans of some building. He could not tell how many plans he had prepared while the minister was preaching. He was the architect for one or two companies; and he used to do all his planning in that way. You see, Satan came in between him and the preacher, and caught away the good seed of the Word. I have often preached to people, and have been perfectly amazed to find they could hardly tell one solitary word of the sermon; even the text had completely gone from them. A colored man once said that a good many of his congregation would be lost because they were too generous. He saw that the people looked rather surprised; so he said, "Perhaps you think I have made a mistake; and that I ought to have said you will be lost because you are not generous enough. That is not so; I meant just what I said. You give away too many sermons. You hear them, as it were, for other people." So there are a good many now hearing me who are listening for those behind them: they say the message is a very good one for neighbor So-and-so; and they pass it over their shoulders, till it gets clear out at the door. You laugh; but you know it is so. Listen! "Verily, verily, I say unto you, he that heareth My word, and believeth on Him that sent Me, hath everlasting life, and shall not come into condemnation; but is passed from death unto life." The next note in this peal of bells I wish to ring out is-- COME AND SEE! Scripture not only uses the ear, but the eye, in illustrating the way of salvation. When a man both hears and sees a thing, he remembers it twice as long as if he only heard it. You remember what Philip said to Nathanael: "Philip findeth Nathanael, and saith unto him, we have found Him of whom Moses in the Law, and the Prophets, did write--Jesus of Nazareth, the son of Joseph. And Nathanael said unto him, Can there any good thing come out of Nazareth? Philip saith unto him, Come and see." Philip was a wise winner of souls. He brought his friend to Christ. Nathanael had one interview with the son of God; he became His disciple and never left Him. If Philip had gone on discussing the matter with him, and had tried to prove that some good thing could come out of Nazareth, he might have never been a disciple at all. After all, we do not gain much by discussion. Let objectors or inquirers only get one personal interview with the Son of God; that will scatter all their darkness, all their prejudice, and all their unbelief. The moment that Philip succeeded in getting Nathanael to Christ, the work was done. So we say to you, "Come and see!" I thought, when I was converted, that my friends had been very unfaithful to me, because they had not told me about Christ. I thought I would have all my friends converted inside of twenty-four hours; and I was quite disappointed when they did not at once see Christ to be the Lily of the Valley, and the Rose of Sharon, and the Bright and Morning Star. I wondered why it was. No doubt many of those who hear me now have had that experience; you thought when you saw Christ in all His beauty that you could soon make your friends see Him in the same light. But we need to learn that God alone can do it. If there is a skeptic now hearing me, I want to say that one personal interview with the Son of God will scatter all your infidelity and atheism. One night, in the inquiry-room, I met the wife of an atheist, who had been brought to God at one of our meetings. She was converted at the same time. She had brought two of her daughters to the meeting, desiring that they too should know Christ. I said to the mother: "How is it with your skepticism now?" "Oh," said she, "it is all gone." When Christ gets into the heart, atheism must go out; if a man will only come and take one trustful, loving look at the Saviour, there will be no desire to leave Him again. A gentleman was walking down the street in Baltimore, a few years ago. It was near Christmas-time, and many of the shop-windows were filled with Christmas presents, toys, etc. As this gentleman passed along, he saw three little girls standing before a shop window, and he heard two of them trying to describe to the third the things that were in the window. It aroused his attention, and he wondered what it could mean. He went back, and found that the middle one was blind--she had never been able to see--and her two sisters were endeavoring to tell her how the things looked. The gentleman stood beside them for some time, and listened; he said it was most interesting to hear them trying to describe the different articles to the blind child--they found it a difficult task. As he told me, I said to myself, "That is just my position in trying to tell other men about Christ: I may talk about Him; and yet they see no beauty in Him that they should desire Him. But if they will only come to Him, He will open their eyes and reveal Himself to them in all His loveliness and grace." Looking at it from the outside, there was not much beauty in the Tabernacle that Moses erected in the desert. It was covered on the outside with badgers' skins--and there was not much beauty in them. If you were to pass into the inside, then you would find out the beauty of the coverings. So the sinner sees no beauty in Christ till he comes to Him--then he can see it. You have looked at the windows of a grand church erected at the cost of many thousands of dollars. From the outside they did not seem very beautiful; but get inside, when the rays of the sun are striking upon the stained glass, and you begin to understand what others have told you of their magnificence. So it is when you have come into personal contact with Christ; you find Him to be the very Friend you need. Therefore we extend to all the sweet Gospel invitation "Come and see!" Let me now ring out the third bell-- COME AND DRINK! "Ho, every one that thirsteth, come ye to the waters: and he that hath no money; come ye, buy, and eat: yea, come, buy wine and milk without money and without price." If you will come and drink at this fountain, Christ says you shall never thirst again. He has promised to quench your thirst. "If any man thirst," He says, "let him come unto Me and drink." I thank God for those words: "_If any man_." That does not mean merely a select few respectable people; it takes in all--every drunkard, every harlot, every thief, every self-righteous Pharisee. "If any man _thirst_." How this world is thirsting for something that will satisfy! What fills the places of amusement--the dance houses, the music halls, and the theaters, night after night? Men and women are thirsting for something they have not got. The moment a man turns his back upon God, he begins to thirst; and that thirst will never be quenched until he returns to "the fountain of living waters." As the prophet Jeremiah tells us, we have forsaken the fountain of living waters, and hewn out for ourselves cisterns, broken cisterns, that can hold no water. There is a thirst this world can never quench: the more we drink of its pleasures, the thirstier we become. We cry out for more and more; and we are all the while being dragged down lower and lower. But there is "a fountain opened to the House of David . . . for sin and for uncleanness." Let us press up to it, and drink and live. I remember after one of the great battles in the War we were coming down the Tennessee River with a company of wounded men. It was in the spring of the year, and the water was not clear. You know that the cry of a wounded man is: "Water! water!" especially in a hot country. I remember taking a glass of the muddy water to one of these men. Although he was very thirsty, he only drank a little of it. He handed the glass back to me, and as he did so, he said, "Oh for a draught of water from my father's well!" Are there any thirsty ones here? Come and drink of the fountain opened in Christ; your longing will be satisfied, and you will never thirst again. It will be in you "a well of water springing up into everlasting life." Water rises to its own level; and as this water has come down from the throne of God, it will carry us back to the presence of God. Come, O ye thirsty ones, stoop down and drink, and live! You are all invited: come along! When Moses took his rod and struck the flinty rock in the wilderness, out of it there came a pure crystal stream of water, which flowed or through that dry and barren land. All that the poor thirsty Israelites had to do was to stoop and drink. It was free to all. So the grace of God is free to all. God invites you to come and take it: will you come? I remember being in a large city where I noticed that the people resorted to a favorite well in one of the parks. I said to a man one day, "Does the well never run dry?" The man was drinking of the water out of the well; and as he stopped drinking, he smacked his lips, and said: "They have never been able to pump it dry yet. They tried it a few years ago. They put the fire engines to work, and tried all they could to pump the well dry; but they found there was a river flowing right under the city." Thank God, the well of salvation never gets dry, though the saints of God have been drinking from it for six thousand years! Abel, Enoch Noah, Abraham. Moses, Elijah, the Apostles all have drunk from it; and they are now up yonder, where they are drinking of the stream that flows from the throne of God. "They shall hunger no more, neither thirst any more; neither shall the sun light on them, nor any heat. For the Lamb which is in the midst of the throne shall feed them, and shall lead them unto living fountains of waters: and God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes." Let me ring another Gospel bell: COME AND DINE! My brother, my sister--are you hungry? Then come along and dine. Some people are afraid of being converted, because they think they will not hold out. Mr. Rainsford once said, "If the Lord gives us eternal life, He will surely give us all that is needful to preserve it." He not only gives life; but He gives us our daily bread to feed that life. After the Saviour had risen from the dead, He had not appeared to His disciples for some days. Peter said to the others, "I go a fishing." Seven of them started off in their boats. They toiled all night but caught nothing. In the grey of the morning, they saw a Stranger on the shore. He addressed them and said "Children, have ye any meat?" They told Him they had not. "Cast the net on the right side of the ship; and ye shall find." I can imagine they said to each other, "What good is that going to do? We have been fishing here all night, and have got nothing? The idea that there should be fish on one side of the boat, and not on the other!" However, they obeyed the command; and they had such a haul that there was no room for the fish in the boat. Then one of them said, "It is the Lord." When he heard that, Peter sprang right into the sea, and swam to the shore; and the others pulled the boat to land. When they reached the shore the Master said, "Come and dine." What a meal that must have been. There was the Lord of Glory feeding His disciples. If He could set a table for His people in the wilderness, and feed three millions of Israelites for forty years, can He not give us our daily bread? I do not mean only the bread that perisheth; but the Bread that cometh from above. If He feeds the birds of the air, surely He will feed His children made in His own image! If He numbers the very hairs of our head, He will take care to supply all our temporal wants. Not only so: He will give us the Bread of Life for the nourishment of the soul--the life that the world knows nothing of--if we will but go to Him. "I am the Bread of Life," He says. As we feed on Him by faith, we get strength. Let our thoughts rest upon Him; and He will lift us above ourselves, and above the world, and satisfy our utmost desires. Another Gospel bell is-- COME AND REST! Dear friend, do you not need rest? There is a restlessness all over the world to-day. Men are sighing and struggling after rest. The cry of the world is, "Where can rest be found?" The rich man that we read of in the parable pulled down his barns, that he might build greater; and said to his soul, "Take thine ease." He thought he was going to find rest in wealth; but he was disappointed. That night his soul was summoned away. No; there is no rest in wealth or pleasure. Others think they will succeed in drowning their sorrows and troubles by indulging in drink; but that will only increase them. "There is no peace, saith my God, to the wicked:" they are like the troubled sea that cannot rest. We sometimes talk of the ocean as being as calm as a sea of glass; but it is never at rest: and here we have a faithful picture of the wicked man and woman. O weary soul, hear the sweet voice that comes ringing down through the ages: "Come unto me, all ye that labor, and are heavy-laden; and I will _give_ you rest." Thank God, He does not _sell_ it! If He did, some of us are so poor we could not buy; but we can all take a gift. That little boy there knows how to take a gift; that old man, living on borrowed time, and almost on the verge of another world, knows how to take a gift. The gift Jesus wants to bestow is rest: Rest for time, and rest for eternity. Every weary soul may have this rest if he will. But you must come to Christ and get it. Nowhere else can this rest be found. If you go to the world with your cares, your troubles, and your anxieties, all it can do is to put a few more on the top of them. The world is a poor place to go to for sympathy. As some one has said: "If you roll your burdens anywhere but on Christ, they will roll back on you with more weight than ever. Cast them on Christ; and He will carry them for you." Here is another bell-- COME AND REASON! Perhaps there are some infidels reading this. They are fond of saying to us, "Come and reason." But I want to draw their attention to the verses that go before this one in the first chapter of Isaiah. The trouble with a good many skeptics is this--they take a sentence here and there from Scripture without reference to the context. Let us see what this passage says: "When ye spread forth your hands, I will hide mine eyes from you: yea, when ye make many prayers I will not hear: your hands are full of blood. Wash you, make you clean; put away the evil of your doings from before Mine eyes; cease to do evil; learn to do well; seek judgment, relieve the oppressed, judge the fatherless, plead for the widow." _Then_ we have the gracious invitation, "Come now, and let us reason together." Do you think God is going to reason with a man whose hands are dripping with blood, and before he asks forgiveness and mercy? Will God reason with a man living in rebellion against Him? Nay. But if we turn from and confess our sin, then He will reason with us, and pardon us. "Though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow: though they be red like crimson, they shall be as wool." But if a man persists in his rebellion against God, there is no invitation to him to come and reason, and receive pardon. If I have been justly condemned to death by the law of the State, and am waiting the execution of my sentence, I am not in a position to reason with the governor. If he chooses to send me a free pardon, the first thing I have to do is to accept it; then he may allow me to come into his presence. But we must bear in mind that God is above our reason. When man fell, his reason became perverted; and he was not in a position to reason with God. "If any man willeth to do His will he shall know of the teaching." We must be willing to forsake our sins. "Let the wicked forsake his way, and the unrighteous man his thoughts: and let him return unto the Lord, and He will have mercy upon him; and to our God, for He will abundantly pardon," The moment a man is willing to part with his sins, God meets him in grace and offers him peace and pardon. The next bell I would like to sound out is-- COME TO THE MARRIAGE! "Behold, I have prepared my dinner: . . . all things are ready; come unto the marriage." Who would not feel highly honored if they were invited to some fine residence, to the wedding of one of the members of the President's family? I can imagine you would feel rather proud of having received such an invitation. You would want all your friends to know it. Probably you may never get such an invitation. But I have a far grander invitation for you here than that. I cannot speak for others; but if I know my own heart, I would rather be torn to pieces to-night, limb from limb, and die in the glorious hope of being at the marriage-supper of the Lamb, than live in this world a thousand years and miss that appointment at the last. "Blessed is he that is called to the marriage-supper of the Lamb." It will be a fearful thing for any of us to see Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob taking their place in the kingdom of God, and be ourselves thrust out. This is no myth, my friends; it is a real invitation. Every man and woman is invited. All things are now ready. The feast has been prepared at great expense. You may spurn the grace, and the gift of God; but you must bear in mind that it cost God a good deal before He could provide this feast. When He gave Christ He gave the richest jewel that heaven had. And now He sends out the invitation. He commands His servants to go into the highways, and hedges, and lanes, and compel them to come in, that His house may be full. Who will come? You say you are not fit to come? If the President invited you to the White House, and the invitation said you were to come just as you were; and if the sentinel at the gate stopped you because you did not wear a dress suit, what would you do? Would you not show him the document signed in the name of the President? Then he would stand aside and let you pass. So, my friend, if you can prove to me that you are a sinner, I can prove to you that you are invited to this Gospel feast--to this marriage supper of the Lamb. Let me ring out another bell in this Gospel chime-- "COME, INHERIT THE KINGDOM!" "Then shall the King say unto them on His right hand, Come, ye blessed of My Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world." A kingdom!--think of that! Think of a poor man in this world, struggling with poverty and want, invited to become possessor of a kingdom! It is no fiction; it is described as "an inheritance incorruptible and undefiled, and that fadeth not away, reserved in heaven for you, who are kept by the power of God through faith unto salvation, ready to be revealed in the last time." We are called to be kings and priests: that is a high calling. Surely no one who hears me intends to miss that kingdom! Christ said, "_Seek ye first_ the Kingdom of God." Those who inherit it shall go no more out. Yet another bell-- "COME UP HITHER!" In the Revelation we find that the two witnesses were called up to heaven when their testimony was ended. So if we are faithful in the service of our King, we shall by and by hear a voice saying, "Come up hither!" There is going to be a separation one day. The man who has been persecuting his godly wife will some day find her missing. That drunkard who beats his children because they have been taught the way into the Kingdom of God, will miss them some day. They will be taken up out of the darkness, and away from the persecution, up into the presence of God. When the voice of God saying, "Come up hither" is heard, calling His children home, there will be a grand jubilee. That glorious day will soon dawn. "Lift up your heads, for the time of your redemption draweth nigh." One more bell to complete the chime-- "WHOSOEVER WILL, LET HIM COME!" It is the last time that the word "Come" appears in the Bible; and it occurs there over one thousand nine hundred times. We find it away back in Genesis, "Come, thou and all thy house, into the ark"; and it goes right along through Scripture. Prophets, apostles, and preachers, have been ringing it out all through the ages. Now the record is about to be closed, and Christ tells John to put in one more invitation. After the Lord had been in glory for about sixty years, perhaps He saw some poor man stumbling over one of the apostles' letters about the doctrine of election. So He came to John in Patmos, and John was in the Spirit on the Lord's Day. Christ said to His disciple, "Write these things to the Churches." I can imagine John's pen moved very easily and very swiftly that day; for the hand of his Lord was upon him. The Master said to him, "Before you close up the Book, put in one more invitation; and make it so broad that the whole world shall know they are included, and not a single one may feel that he is left out." John began to write "The Spirit and the Bride say, Come," that is, the Spirit and the Church; "and let him that heareth say, Come!" If you have heard and received the message yourself, pass it on to those near you; your religion is not a very real thing if it does not affect some one else. We have to get rid of this idea that the world is going to be reached by ministers alone. All those who have drunk of the cup of salvation must pass it around. "Let him that is athirst, come." But there are some so deaf that they cannot hear; others are not thirsty enough or they think they are not. I have seen men in our after-meetings with two streams of tears running down their cheeks; and yet they said the trouble with them was that they were not anxious enough. They were anxious to be anxious. Probably Christ saw that men would say they did not feel thirsty; so He told the apostle to make the invitation still broader. So the last invitation let down into a thirsty world is this: "Whosoever will, let him take the water of life freely." Thank God for those words "Whosoever will!" Who will come and take it? That is the question. You have the power to accept or to reject the invitation. A man in one meeting once was honest enough to say "I won't." If I had it in my power I would bring this whole audience to a decision now, either for or against. I hope many now reading these words will say, "I will!" If God says we can, all the devils in hell cannot stop us. All the infidels in the world cannot prevent us. That little boy, that little girl, can say, "I will!" If it were necessary, God would send down a legion of angels to help you; but He has given you the power, and you can accept Christ this very minute if you are really in earnest. Let me say that it is the easiest thing in the world to become a Christian, and it is also the most difficult. You will say: "That is a contradiction, a paradox." I will illustrate what I mean. A little nephew of mine in Chicago, a few years ago, took my Bible and threw it down on the floor. His mother said, "Charlie, pick up Uncle's Bible." The little fellow said he would not, "Charlie, do you know what that word means?" She soon found out that he did, and that he was not going to pick up the Book. His will had come right up against his mother's will. I began to be quite interested in the struggle; I knew if she did not break his will, he would some day break her heart. She repeated, "Charlie, go and pick up Uncle's Bible, and put it on the table." The little fellow said he could not do it. "I will punish you if you do not." He saw a strange look in her eye, and the matter began to get serious. He did not want to be punished, and he knew his mother would punish him if he did not lift the Bible. So he straightened every bone and muscle in him, and he said _he could not do it_. I really believe the little fellow had reasoned himself into the belief that he could not do it. His mother knew he was only deceiving himself; so she kept him right to the point. At last he went down, put both his arms around the Book, and tugged away at it; but he still said he could not do it. The truth was he did not want to. He got up again without lifting it. The mother said, "Charlie, I am not going to talk to you any more. This matter has to be settled; pick up that Book, or I will punish you." At last she broke his will, and then he found it as easy as it is for me to turn my hand. He picked up the Bible, and laid it on the table. So it is with the sinner; if you are really willing to take the Water of Life, you can do it. "I heard the voice of Jesus say, 'Come unto Me, and rest; Lay down, thou weary one, lay down, Thy head upon My breast.' I came to Jesus as I was-- Weary, and worn, and sad, I found in Him a resting-place, And He has made me glad. I heard the voice of Jesus say, 'Behold, I freely give The living water--thirsty one, Stoop down, and drink, and live.' I came to Jesus, and I drank Of that life-giving stream; My thirst was quenched, my soul revived, And now I live in Him. I heard the voice of Jesus say, 'I am this dark world's Light: Look unto Me, thy morn shall rise, And all thy day be bright.' I looked to Jesus, and I found In Him my Star, my Sun; And in that Light of life I'll walk Till traveling days are done." _Dr. H. Bonar_ GOSPEL DIALOGUES. I.--MR. MOODY AND REV. MARCUS RAINSFORD. WHAT IT IS TO BE A CHILD OF GOD. MR. MOODY--What is it to be a child of God? What is the first step? Rev. M. Rainsford--Well, sir, I am a child of God when I become united to the Son of God. The Son of God prayed that all who believed upon Him should be one with Him, as He was one with the Father. Believing on Jesus, I receive Him, and become united to Him; I become, as it were, a member of his Body. I am an heir of God, a joint-heir with Christ. Mr. M.--What is the best definition of Faith? Mr. R.--Trust in the Son of God, as the Saviour He has given to us. Simple trust, not only in a creed, but in a Person. I trust my soul to Him. I trust the keeping of my soul to Him. God has promised that whosoever trusts Him, mercy shall compass him on every side. Mr. M.--Does not the Scripture say that the devils believe? Mr. R.--They believe the truth, do they not? They believe that Jesus was manifested to destroy them; and they "tremble." I wish we believed as truly and as fully that God sent His Son into the world to save us. Mr. M.--What is it to "trust?" Mr. R.--I take it to mean four things: (1) Believing on Christ: that is, taking Him at His Word. (2) Hoping in Christ: that is, expecting help from Him, according to His Word. (3) Relying on Christ: That is, resting on Him for the times, and ways, and circumstances in which He may be pleased to fulfill His promises according to His Word. (4) Waiting on Christ: that is, _continuing_ to do so, notwithstanding delay, darkness, barrenness, perplexing experiences, and the sentence of death in myself. He may keep me waiting awhile (I have kept Him a long time waiting); but He will not keep me waiting always. Believing in Him, hoping in Him, relying upon Him, and waiting for Him--I understand to be trusting in Him. Mr. M.--Can all these friends here believe the promises? Mr. R.--The promises are true, whether we believe them or not. We do not make them true by believing them. God could not charge me with being an unbeliever, or condemn me for unbelief, if the promises were not true for me. I could in that case turn round and say: "Great God, why did you expect me to believe a promise that was not true for me?" And yet the Scriptures set forth unbelief as the greatest sin I can continue to commit. Mr. M.--How are we "cleansed by _the Blood?_" Mr. R.--"The blood is the life." The sentence upon sinners for their sin was, "The soul that sinneth it shall die." That we might not die, the Son of God died. The blood is _the poured-out life of the Son of God_, given as the price, the atonement, the substitute, for the forfeited life of the believer in Jesus Christ. Any poor sinner who receives Christ as God's gift is cleansed from all sin by His Blood. Mr. M.--Was the blood shed for us all? Mr. R.-- "There is a fountain filled with blood, Drawn from Immanuel's veins; And sinners plunged beneath that flood, Lose all their guilty stains. The dying thief rejoiced to see That fountain in his day; And there may we, though vile as he, Wash all our sins away." Mr. M.--Some may think that this is only a hymn, and that it is not Scripture. Did the Lord ever say anything similar to what the hymn says? Mr. R.--He said: "I have given you the blood upon the altar to make an atonement for your souls." That was said of the picture of the blood of Christ. And at the Last Supper our Lord said His blood was "the blood of the new testament which is shed for you and for many for the remission of sins." Mr. M.--What is "the gift of God?" Mr. R.--There are three great gifts that God has given to us-- (1) His blessed Son. (2) The Holy Ghost, "the promise of the Father," that we might understand the unspeakable gift bestowed on us when He gave His Son. (3) He has given us His Holy Word. The Holy Ghost has inspired the writers of it that we may read, and hear, and know the love that God has to us, "in that while we were yet sinners Christ died for us." We could not have the Son for our Saviour, unless God gave Him. We could not understand the gift of God, unless the Holy Ghost had come to quicken us and teach us; and this He does through the Word. Mr. M.--How much is there in Christ for us who believe? Mr. R.--In Him dwelt "all the fullness of the Godhead bodily"--fullness of life, of righteousness, of sanctification, of redemption, title to heaven, and meetness for it; all that God wants from us, and all that we want from God, He gave in the person of Christ. Mr. M.--How long does it take God to justify a sinner? Mr. R.--How long? The moment we receive Him we receive authority to enroll ourselves among the children of God, and are then and there justified from all things. The sentence of complete justification does not take long to pronounce. Some persons profess to see a difficulty in the variety of ways in which a sinner is said to be justified before God: (1) Justified by God; (2) Justified by Christ; (3) Justified by His Blood; (4) Justified by grace; (5) Justified by faith; (6) Justified by works. Justification has reference to a court of justice. Suppose a sinner standing at the bar of God, the bar of conscience, and the bar of his fellow-men, charged with a thousand crimes. (1) There is the Judge: that is God, who alone can condemn or justify: "It is God that justifieth." That is justification by God. (2) There is the Advocate, who appears at court for the sinner; the counselor, the intercessor: that is Christ. "Justified by Christ." (3) There is next to be considered the ground and reason on account of which the Advocate pleads before the Judge. That is the merit of His own precious Blood. That is justification by His Blood. (4) Next we must remember the law which the Judge is dispensing. The law of works? Nay, but the law of grace and faith. That is justification by His grace. (5) And now the judge himself pronounces the result. "Be it known unto you that through this Man is preached unto you the forgiveness of sins; and by Him all that believe are justified from all things." Now, for the first time, the sinner at the bar knows the fact. This is justification by faith. (6) But now the justified man leaves the criminal's dock. He does not return to his prison, or to his chains. He walks forth from the court-house a justified man; and all men, friends or foes, are made aware that he is free. That is "justification by works." Mr. M.--A man says: "I have not found peace." How would you deal with him? Mr. R.--He is really looking for the wrong thing. I do not look for peace. I look for _Christ;_ and I get peace with Him. Some people put peace in the place of Christ. Others put their repentance or prayers in the place of Christ. _Anything_ put in the place of Christ, or between the sinner and Christ, is in the _wrong place_. When I get Christ, I possess in Him everything that belongs to Him, as my Saviour. Mr. M.--Some think they cannot be Christians until they are sanctified. Mr. R.--Christ is my Sanctification, as much as my Justification. I cannot be sanctified but by His blood. There is a wonderful passage in Exodus. The high priest there represented in picture the Lord Jesus Christ. There was to be placed on the forefront of the miter of the high priest, when he stood before God, a plate of pure gold, and graven upon it as with a signet, the words: "Holiness to the Lord." My faith sees it on the forefront of the miter on the brow of my High Priest in heaven. "And it shall be upon Aaron's forehead, that Aaron may bear the iniquity of the holy things, which the children of Israel shall hallow in all their holy gifts; and it shall be _always_ upon his forehead, that they may be accepted before the Lord." That was for Israel of old! _That_ on the brow of Jesus Christ is for me. Yes--for me, "that I may be accepted before the Lord." As I believe this truth it purifies my heart, it operates on my affections and my desires; and I seek to walk with Him, because He is my Sanctification before God, just as I trust in Him as my Justification--because He shed His blood for me. Mr. M.--What is it to believe on His name? Mr. R.--His name is His revealed self. We are informed what it is in Exodus. Moses was in the mount with God, and He had shown him wonderful things of kindness and of love. And Moses said, "O God, show me thy _glory!_" And He said, "I will make all my _goodness_ pass before thee." So He put Moses in the cleft of the rock, and proclaimed the name of the Lord: "The Lord, the Lord God, merciful and gracious, longsuffering, and abundant in goodness and truth; keeping mercy for thousands, forgiving iniquity, transgression, and sin"--there it is, root and branch "and that will by no means clear the guilty." That is His name; and His glory He will not give unto another: and to believe in the name of the Lord is just to shelter under His promises. Mr. M.--What is it to "receive the Kingdom of God like a little child?" Mr. R.--Well, I do not believe in a little child being an innocent thing. I think it means that we are to receive it in all our need and helplessness. A little child is the most dependent thing on earth. All its resources are in its parents' love: all it can do is to cry; and its necessities explain the meaning to the mother's heart. If we interpret its language, it means: "Mother, wash me; I cannot wash myself. Mother, clothe me; I am naked, and cannot clothe myself. Mother, feed me; I cannot feed myself. Mother, carry me; I cannot walk." It is written, "A mother may forget her sucking child; yet will not I forget thee." This it is to receive the Kingdom of God as a little child--to come to Jesus in our helplessness and say: "Lord Jesus, wash me!" "Clothe me!" "Feed me!" "Carry me!" "Save me, Lord, or I perish." Mr. M.--A good many say they are going to _try_. What would you say to such? Mr. R.--God wants no man to "try." Jesus has already tried. He has not only tried, but He has succeeded. "It is finished." Believe in Him who has "made an end of sins, making reconciliation for iniquity, finishing transgression, and bringing in everlasting righteousness." Mr. M.--If people say they are "going to try," what would you say to them? Mr. R.--I should say, Put _trusting_ in the place of trying; _believing_ in the place of doubting; and I should urge them to come to Christ as they are, instead of waiting to be better. There is nothing now between God the Father and the poor sinner, but the Lord Jesus Christ; and Christ has put away sin that I may be joined to the Lord. "And he that is joined unto the Lord is one spirit;" "And where the spirit of the Lord is, there is liberty." Mr. M.--About the last thing an anxious inquirer has to contend with is his feelings. There are hundreds here very anxious to know they are safe in the Kingdom; but they think they have not the right kind of feeling. What kind of feeling should they have? Mr. R.--I think there are several of those present who can say that they found a blessing in the after-meetings through one verse of Scripture. I will quote it as an answer to Mr. Moody's question. "Who is among you that feareth the Lord, that obeyeth the voice of His servant, that walketh in darkness, and hath no light? Let him trust in the name of the Lord, and stay upon his God." Some of you may be walking in darkness; that is how you feel. What is God's command? "Let him trust in the name of the Lord, and stay upon his God." If I am to trust God in the darkness, I am to trust Him anywhere. Mr. M.--You would advise them, then, to trust in the Lord, whether they have the right kind of feeling or not? Mr. R.--If I were to think of my feelings for a moment, I should be one of the most miserable men in this hall to-night. My feelings are those of a sinful corrupt nature. I am just to believe what God tells me in spite of my feelings. Faith is "the evidence of things not seen:" I might add, "the evidence of things not felt." Mr. M.--Some may say that faith is the gift of God: and that they must wait till God imparts it to them. Mr. R.--"Faith cometh by hearing." The word of God is the medium through which faith comes to us. God has given us Christ; and He has given us His Spirit, and His Word: what need is there to wait? God will give faith to the man who reads His Word and seeks for His Spirit. Mr. M.--What, then, should they wait for? Mr. R.--I do not know of anything they have to wait for. God says: "Come now; Believe now." No, no; there is nothing to wait for. He has given us all He has to give: and the sooner we take it the better. Mr. M.--Perhaps some of them think they have too many sins to allow their coming. Mr. R.--The Lord Jesus has put away sin by the sacrifice of Himself. "As far as the east is from the west, so far hath He removed our transgressions from us." Why do we not believe him? He says He has "made an end of sins." Why do we not believe Him? Is He a liar? Mr. M.--Is unbelief a sin? Mr. R.--It is the root of all sin. Mr. M.--Has a man the power to believe these things, if he will? Mr. R.--When God gives a command, it means that we are able by His grace to do it. Mr. M.--What do you mean by "coming" to Christ? Mr. R.--Believing in Him. If I were to prepare a great feast in this hall to-morrow night, and say that any man that comes to it would have a grand feast and a five-pound note besides, there would not be any question as to what "coming" meant. God has prepared a great feast. He has sent His messengers to invite all to come; and there is nothing to pay. Mr. M.--What is the first step. Mr. R.--To believe. Mr. M.--Believe what? Mr. R.--God's invitation; God's promise; God's provision. Let us believe the faithfulness of Him who calls us. Does God intend to mock us, and make game of us? If He did so to one man, it would hush all the harps in heaven. Mr. M.--Suppose the people do "come," and that they fall into sin tomorrow? Mr. R.--Let them come back again. God says we are to forgive till seventy times seven. Do you think the great God will do less than He commands us to do? Mr. M.--If they truly come, will they have the desire to do the things they used to do before? Mr. R.--When a man really receives Christ into his heart, he experiences "the expulsive power of a new affection." The devil may tempt him to sin; but sin has lost its attraction. A man finds out that it does not pay to grieve God's Holy Spirit. Mr. M.--What would you advise your converts to do? Mr. R.--When you were little babes, if you had had no milk, no clothing, and no rest, you would not have lived very long. You are now the result of your fathers' and mothers' care. When a man is born in the family of God he has life; but he needs food. "Man doth not live by bread alone." If you do not feed upon God's promises you will be of no use in God's service: it will be well for you if your life does not die out altogether before long. Then you need exercise. If you only take food, and do no work, you will soon suffer from what I may call spiritual apoplexy. When you get hold of a promise, go and tell it to others. The best way for me to get help for myself is by trying to help others. There is one great promise that young disciples should never forget: "He that watereth shall be watered also himself." Mr. M.--How are they to begin? Mr. R.--I believe there are some rich ladies and rich gentlemen on the platform. When such persons are brought to the Lord, they are apt to be ashamed to speak about salvation to their old companions. If our Christian ladies would go amongst other ladies; Christian gentlemen amongst gentlemen of their own class; and so on we should see a grand work for Christ. Each of you have some friends or relations whom you can influence better than anybody else can. Begin with them; and God will give you such a taste for work that you will not be content to stay at home: you will go and work outside as well. Mr. M.--A good place to start in would be the kitchen, would it not? Begin with some little kitchen meetings. Let some of you get fifteen or twenty mothers together; and ask them to bring their young children with them. Sing some of these sweet hymns; read a few verses of Scripture; get your lips opened; and you will find that streams of salvation will be breaking out all around. I always think that every convert ought to be good for a dozen others right away. Mr. R.--Let me tell a little incident in my own experience. I was once asked to go and see a great man and tell him about Christ. He did not expect me; and if I had known that, perhaps I should not have had the faith to go at all. When I went he was very angry and very nearly turned me out of the house. He was an old man, and had one little daughter. A few weeks afterwards he went to the Continent, and his daughter went with him. One day when he was very ill he saw his daughter looking at him, while the tears rolled down her cheeks. "My child," he said, "what are you crying about?" "Oh, papa, you do not love the Lord Jesus Christ; I am afraid you are going to hell!" "Why do you say that?" "Do you not remember when Mr. Rainsford called to see you, you were very rude to him? I never saw you so angry. And he only wished to speak to you about Jesus." "Well, my child, you shall read to me about Jesus." If that man has gone to heaven--I do not say whether he has or not--the only light he had he got from his little daughter. You set to work; and you cannot tell what may be the result, by the blessing of God. "Sons of God, beloved in Jesus Oh, the wondrous word of grace! In His Son the Father sees us, And as sons He gives us place. Blessed power now brightly beaming-- On our God we soon shall gaze; And in light celestial gleaming We shall see our Saviour's face. By the power of grace transforming We shall then His image bear; Christ His promised word performing, We shall then His glory share." _El Nathan_ II.--MR. MOODY AND REV. MARCUS RAINSFORD. HOW TO BECOME A CHRISTIAN. MR. MOODY.--Mr. Rainsford, how can one make room in their heart for Christ? Rev. M. Rainsford.--First, do we really want Christ to be in our hearts? If we do, the best thing will be to ask Him to come and make room for Himself. He will surely come and do so. "I can do all things through Christ which strengtheneth me." "Without Me ye can do nothing." Mr. M.--Will Christ crowd out the world if He comes in? Mr. R.--He spake a parable to that effect. "When a strong man armed keepeth his palace [the poor sinner's heart], his goods are in peace. But when a stronger than he shall come upon him and overcome him, he taketh from him all his armour wherein he trusted [unbelief, false views of God, worldliness, and love of sin], and divideth his spoils." The devil keeps the heart, because Christ desires it for His throne--until Christ drives Him out. Mr. M.--What is the meaning of the promise?--"Him that _cometh_ unto Me I will in no wise cast out." Mr. R.--I think we often put the emphasis upon the wrong word. People are troubled about how they are going to come, when they should put the emphasis on Him to whom they are coming. "Him that cometh unto Me I will in no wise cast out:" no matter how he may come. I remember hearing this incident at an after-meeting. A gentleman was speaking to an anxious inquirer, telling him to _come_ to Christ, to _trust_ in Christ; but the man seemed to get no comfort. He said that was just where he found his difficulty. By and by, another friend came and spoke to the anxious one. All he said was: "Come to CHRIST; trust in CHRIST." The man saw it in a minute. He went and told the other gentleman, "I see the way of salvation now." "Tell me," said he, "what did that man say to you?" "Well, he told me to trust in Christ." "That is what I told you." "Nay, you bade me _trust_ in Christ, and _come_ to Christ; he bade me trust in _Christ_, and come to _Christ_." That made all the difference. Mr. M.--What does Christ mean by the words "_in no wise?_" Mr. R.--It means that if the sins of all sinners on earth and all the devils in hell were upon your soul, He will not refuse you. Not even in the range of God's omniscience is there a reason why Christ will refuse any poor sinner who comes to Him for pardon. Mr. M.--What is the salvation He comes to proclaim and to bestow? Mr. R.--To deliver us from the power of darkness and the bottomless pit, and set us upon the throne of glory. It is salvation from death and hell, and curse and ruin. But that is only the half of it. It is salvation to God, and light, and glory, and honor, and immortality; and from earth to heaven. Mr. M.--If the friends here do not come and get this salvation, what will be the true reason? Mr. R.--Either they are fond of some sin which they do not intend to give up, or they do _not_ believe they are in a lost condition, and under the curse of God, and therefore do not feel their need of Him who "came to seek and to save that which was lost." Or they do not believe God's promises. I have sometimes asked a man, "Good friend, are you saved!" "Well, no, I am not saved." "Are you lost?" "Oh, God forbid! I am not lost." "Where are you, then, if you are neither saved nor lost?" May God wake us up to the fact that we are all in one state or the other! Mr. M.--What if any of them should fall into sin after they have come to Christ? Mr. R.--God has provided for the sins of His people, committed after they come to Christ, as surely as for their sins committed before they came to Him. Christ "ever liveth to make intercession for all that come unto God by Him." "If we say that we have no sin we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us. If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just to forgive us our sins, and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness." . . . . For, "if any man sin, we have an Advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ the righteous. And He is the propitiation for our sins." He will take care of our sinful, tried and tempted selves, if we trust ourselves to Him. Mr. M.--Is it not said that if we sin willfully after we have received the knowledge of the truth, "there remaineth _no more_ sacrifice for sins?" Mr. R.--Yes. Paul wrote it in his Epistle to the Hebrews. Some of them were trifling with the blood of Christ, reverting to the types and shadows of the Levitical Law, and trusting to a fulfilled ritual for salvation. He is not referring to _ordinary acts of sin_. By sinning willfully he means, as he explains it, a "_treading under foot the Son of God_," and a total and final apostatizing from Christ. Those who reject or neglect Him will find no other sacrifice for sin remaining. Before Christ came the Jewish ceremonies were shadows of the good things to come; but Christ was the substance of them. But now that he has come to put away sin by the sacrifice of Himself, there is no other sacrifice for sin remaining for those who reject Him. God will send no other Saviour, and no further atonement; no second "fountain shall be opened for sin and uncleanness." There remains, therefore, nothing for the rejector of salvation by Christ, but "a fearful looking-for of judgment." Mr. M.--There are some who say they do not know that they have the right kind of faith. Mr. R.--God does not ask us if we have the right kind of faith. He tells us the right thing to believe, and the right faith is to believe the _right thing_, even what God has told us and promised us. If I told you, Mr. Moody, that I had found a hymn-book last night you would believe me, would you not? (Mr. Moody: Yes.) Suppose I said it was the valuable one _you_ lost the other night, you would believe me also just the same. There is no difference in the _kind_ of faith; the difference is in the _thing believed_. When the Son of God tells me that He died for sinners, that is a fact for my faith to lay hold of: the faith itself is not some thing to be considered. I do not look at my hand, when I take a gift, and wonder what sort of a hand it is. I look at the gift. Mr. M.--What about those people who say their hearts are so hard, and they have no love to Christ? Mr. R.--Of course they are hard and cold. No man loves Christ till he believes that Christ loves him. "We love Him, because He first loved us." It is the love of God shed abroad in our hearts by the Holy Ghost that makes the change. Mr. M.--Paul said he was "crucified with Christ." what did he mean? Mr. R.--Oh, that is a grand text! Thank God I have been "crucified with Christ." The Cross of Christ represents the death due to the sinner who had broken God's laws. When Christ was crucified every member of His body was crucified: but every believer that was, or is, or shall be, is a member of Christ's body, of His flesh, and of His bones. Again, we read: "Whether one member suffer, all the members suffer with it; or one member be honored, all the members rejoice with it: now ye are the body of Christ, and members in particular." So when Christ was crucified for sin, I was also crucified in Him; and now I am dead and gone as far as my old self is concerned. I have already suffered for sin in Him. Yes; I am dead and buried with Christ. That is the grand truth that Paul laid hold upon. I am stone dead as a sinner in the sight of God. As it is written, I am "become dead to the law by the body of Christ, that I might be married to another, even to Him who is raised from the dead, that I should bring forth fruit unto God." "I am crucified with Christ; nevertheless I live; yet not I, but Christ liveth in me;" and God Himself commands me so to regard my standing before Him as His believing child. "In that Christ died, He died, unto sin once: but in that He liveth, He liveth unto God. _Likewise reckon ye also yourselves to be dead indeed unto sin_, but _alive unto God_ through Jesus Christ our Lord." Mr. M.--Should not a man repent a good deal before he comes to Christ? Mr. R.--"Repent a good deal!" I do not think any man repents in the true sense of the word till he loves Christ and hates sin. There are many false repentances in the Bible. We are told that Pharaoh repented when the judgment of God came upon him, and he said, "I have sinned;" but as soon as the judgment passed away, he went back to his sin. We read that Balaam said: "I have sinned." Yet "he loved the wages of unrighteousness." When Saul lost his kingdom he repented; "I have sinned," he said. When Judas Iscariot found that he had made a great mistake, he said: "I have sinned, in that I have betrayed innocent blood;" yet he went "to his own place." I would not give much for these repentances; I would rather have Peter's repentance: when Christ looked upon His fallen saint it broke His heart, and he went out and wept bitterly. Or the repentance of the Prodigal, when his father's arms were around his neck, and his kisses on his cheek, and he said, "Father, I have sinned against heaven and before thee, and am no more worthy to be called thy son." Mr. M.--What is your title to heaven? Mr. R.--The Person, the Life, Death, and Righteousness, of the God-man, the Son of God, my Substitute, and my Saviour. Mr. M.--How do you obtain that? Mr. R.--By receiving Him. "As many as received Him, to them gave He authority to become the sons of God, even to them that believed on His name." Mr. M.--What is your meetness for heaven? Mr. R.--The Holy Ghost dwelling in my heart is my fitness for heaven. I have only to get there; and I have, by this great gift, all tastes, desires, and faculties, for it: I have the eyes to contemplate it: I have the ears for heaven's music: and I can speak the language of the country. The Holy Ghost in me is my fitness and qualification for the splendid inheritance for which the Son of God has redeemed me. Mr. M.--Would you make a distinction between Christ's work for us and the Spirit's work in us? Mr. R.--Christ's work for me is the payment of my debt; the giving me a place in my Father's home, the place of sonship in my Father's family. The Holy Spirit's work in me is to make me fit for His company. Mr. M.--You distinguish, then, between the work of the Father, the work of the Son, and the work of the Holy Ghost. Mr. R.--Thanks be to God, I have them all, and I want them all--Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. I read that my Heavenly Father took my sins and laid them on Christ; "The Lord hath laid on Him the iniquity of us all." No one else had a right to touch them. Then I want the Son, who "His own self bare my sins in His own body on a tree." And I want the Holy Ghost. I should know nothing about this great salvation, and care nothing for it, if the Holy Ghost had not come and told me the story, and given me grace to believe it. Mr. M.--What is meant when we are told that Christ saves "to the uttermost?" Mr. R.--That is another grand truth. Some people are troubled by the thought that they will not be able to hold out if they come to Christ. There are so many crooked ways, and pitfalls, and snares in the world; there is the power of the flesh, and the snare of the devil. So they fear they will never get home. The idea of the passage is this. Suppose you are on the top of some splendid mountain, very high up. You look away to where the sun sets, and you see many a river, and many a country, and many a barren waste between. Christ is able to save you through and over them all, out and out, and beyond to the uttermost. Mr. M.--Suppose a man came in here just out of prison: all his life he has been falling, falling, till he has become discouraged. Can Christ save him all at once? Mr. R.--It is just as easy for Christ to save a man with the weight of ten thousand sins upon him and all his chains around him, as to save a man with one sin. If a man has offended in one point, the Scripture says he is guilty of all. Mr. M.--If a man is forgiven, will he go out and do the same thing to-morrow? Mr. R.--Well, I hope not. All I can say is that if we do, we shall smart for it. I have done many a thing since the Lord revealed Himself to my soul that I should not have done--I have gone backward and downward; but I have always found that it does not pay when I do anything that grieves my Heavenly Father. I think He sometimes allows us to taste the bitterness of what it is to depart from Him. And this is one of the many ways by which He keeps us from falling. Mr. M.--What do you consider to be the great sin of sins? Mr. R.--The Word of God tells us that there is only one sin of which God alone can convince us. If I cut a man's throat or if I steal, it does not need God to convince me that that is a sin. But it takes the power of the Holy Ghost to convince me that not to receive Christ, not to love Christ, not to believe in Christ, is the sin of sins, the root of sins. Christ says, "When the Spirit is come, He will convince the world of sin, _because they believe not on Me_." Mr. M.--What do you mean by the Word of God? Mr. R.--The Son of God is the Word of God incarnate: the Bible is the Word of God written. The one is the Word of God in my nature: the other is the Word of God in my language. Mr. M.--If a man receives the word of God into his heart, what benefit is it to him, right here to-night? Mr. R.--The Father and the Son will make their abode with him; and he will be the temple of the Holy Ghost. Where He goes the whole Trinity goes; and all the promises are his. "Man doth not live by bread alone; but by every word that proceedeth out of the mouth of God." Mr. M.--Who is it that judges a man to be unworthy of eternal life? Mr. R.--_Himself!!_ There is a verse in Acts xiii that is worth remembering: "Seeing ye put it [the Word of God] from you, and judge _yourselves_ unworthy of everlasting life, lo, we turn to the Gentiles." God does not judge us unworthy. He has given His Son for our salvation. When a man puts away the Word of God from him and refuses to receive Christ into his heart, he judges _himself_ unworthy of salvation. Mr. M.--I understand, then, that if a man rejects Christ to-night, he passes judgment on himself as unworthy of eternal life? Mr. R.--He is judging himself unworthy, while God does not so consider him. God says you are welcome to eternal life. Mr. M.--If any one here wants to please God to-night, how can he do it? Mr. R.--God delights in mercy. Come to God and claim His mercy in Christ; and you will delight His heart. Mr. M.--Suppose a man say he is not "elected?" Mr. R.--Do you remember the story of the woman of Canaan? Poor soul; she had come a long journey. She asked the Lord to have mercy on her afflicted child. He wanted to try her faith, and He said: "I am not sent but to the lost sheep of the house of Israel." That looked as if He Himself told her that she was not one of the elect. But she came and worshipped Him, saying, "Lord, help me!" and He helped her there and then. No; there is no election separating between the sinner and Christ. Mr. M.--Say that again. Mr. R.--There is no election separating between the sinner and christ. Mr. M.--What is there between the sinner and Christ? Mr. R.--Mercy!! Mercy!! Mr. M.--That brings me near to Christ. Mr. R.--So near that we cannot be nearer. But we must claim it. In John we get God's teaching about election. "This is the Father's will which hath sent Me, that of all which He hath given Me I should lose _nothing_; but should raise it up again at the last day." He will do his work, you may depend upon it. Then in the next verse we read: "And this is the will of Him that sent Me, that _every one_ which seeth the Son, and _believeth_ on Him, may have everlasting life: and I will raise him up at the last day." That is the part I am to take: and when I have done so I shall know the Father's will concerning me. Mr. M.--What do you mean by the New Birth? Mr. R.--I judge it by what I know of the Old Birth. I was born of human parents into the human family; so I belong to Adam's race by nature and by generation, and I inherit Adam's sin and curse accordingly. The new birth is from my union by faith with the second Adam; but this is by _grace_, not nature: and when I receive the Lord Jesus Christ I am born of God--not by generation, but by regeneration. As I am united to the first Adam by nature and generation, so I am united by faith through grace and regeneration to the second Adam, and inherit all His fullness accordingly. Mr. M.--What is the meaning of being "saved by the Blood?" Mr. R.--A gentleman asked me that in the inquiry-room; "What do you mean by the shed Blood?" It is the poured-out life of the Son of God forfeited as the atonement for sinners' sins. Mr. M.--Is it available now? Mr. R.--Yes; as much as ever it was. Mr. M.--You mean it is just as powerful to-day as it was eighteen hundred years ago when He shed it? Mr. R.--If the blood of Abel cried out for vengeance against his slayer, how much more does the blood of Christ cry out for pardon for all who plead it! "It cleanseth (present tense) from all sin." Mr. M.--How do you get faith? Mr. R.--By hearing God's Word. "Faith cometh by hearing; and hearing by the Word of God." Mr. M.--How do you get the Holy Ghost? Mr. R.--In the same way as you get faith. The Holy Ghost uses the Word as the chariot by which He enters the believer's soul. The Gospel is called "the ministration of the Spirit." Mr. M.--Is the Word of God addressed to all here? Mr. R.--"He that hath an ear, let him hear what the Spirit saith to the Churches" (Rev. iii 22). Mr. M.--What is the Gospel? Mr. R.--"Good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people." If our Gospel, proclaiming life, pardon, and peace, is not as applicable for salvation to the vilest harlot here as to the greatest saint in London, it is not Christ's Gospel we preach. Mr. M.--What reason does the Scripture give tor the Gospel being hid to some? Mr. R.--It is "hid to them that are lost; in whom the God of this world hath blinded the minds of them which believe not, lest the light of the glorious Gospel of Christ, who is the image of God, should shine into them." May God open all our eyes, and take away the veil of unbelief with which the devil may be blinding any of us! Mr. M.--Are there not many who give an intellectual assent to all these things; and who yet have no power, and no divine life? Mr. R.--An intellectual assent is not faith. I have never found anyone who really believed God's Word who did not get power in believing it. People may _assent_ to it; but I do not admit that that is believing it. I do not think there is any man or woman here who really believes the Gospel of the grace of God, who has not been taught it by the Holy Ghost. I could easily cross-examine any one of those "intellectual believers" who imagines he believes God, but really does not; and he would break down in a few minutes. Mr. M.--For whom, then, did Christ die? Mr. R.--For "the ungodly." Mr. M.--Why is salvation obtained by faith? Mr. R.--That it might be by grace. "For this cause it is of faith, that it may be according to grace?" Mr. M.--How may a man know if he has eternal life? Mr. R.--By not treating God as if He were a liar, when He tells us He has given us eternal life in His Son. Mr. M.--What is the means by which the New Birth we were speaking of is effected? Mr. R.--"Of His own will begat He us with the _word of truth_." "Being _born again_, not of corruptible seed, but of incorruptible, by the _Word of God_ . . . . and this is the Word, which by the Gospel is preached unto you." "Oh, the wondrous love of Jesus To redeem us with His blood! Through His all-atoning merit, He has brought us near to God: For the boundless grace that saves us We His name will magnify; He is coming in His glory, We shall see Him by and by! Oh, the wondrous love of Jesus To redeem our souls from death! We will thank Him, we will praise Him, While His mercy lends us breath: We are waiting--only waiting-- Till He comes our souls to bear To the Home beyond the shadows, In His Kingdom over there!" _F. J. Crosby_ III.--MR. MOODY AND MR. RADSTOCK. WHAT IT IS TO BE CONVERTED. MR. MOODY: Christ says, "Except ye be converted, and become as little children, ye shall not enter into the kingdom of heaven." What is it to be converted? Mr. Radstock: To be "converted" is to turn to God, who is the only one that can save. We cannot save ourselves even by our religion. Therefore, in order to salvation we must turn to God, who alone has the grace, the wisdom, and the power to save. Mr. M.--What is it to be born of the Spirit? Mr. R.--Man, by nature, cannot enter into the thoughts of God. He cannot hold communion with God until he has a new nature. The natural man receiveth not the things of the Spirit of God: he has no capacity until he has the new life which God will give him by the power of the Holy Ghost. Mr. M.--Can he get that to-day if he repents? Mr. R.--Yes. Repentance means a change of mind--a turning away from his own thoughts to hear the voice and the message of God. If we listen to the voice of God and confess our sins, God is "faithful and just to forgive us our sins." Mr. M.--To whom are we to confess our sins? Mr. R.--When the light of God comes in, we see that we are guilty before him; then we are constrained to go and lay our case before Him. If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just to forgive us. Mr. M.--There is a passage that says the Lord Jesus Christ bear our sins. In what sense did He bear our sins. Mr. R.--The Lord Jesus Christ had really laid to His charge sins which He had never committed. He was punished as if He had been the sinner. Therefore on the cross He cried out, "My God, my God, why hast Thou forsaken me?" God was dealing with Jesus as if He had really been the guilty one. Mr. M.--Do we get any help by believing that? Mr. R.--When I believe God's testimony, God's witness about Jesus, I then can trust myself to God, Giving myself to God, God becomes my Saviour. Mr. M.--Have these friends the power to believe? Mr. R.--They are commanded to believe. They can believe it just as well as they can believe any other fact, if they only listen to God's voice. But they must get rid of their own thoughts, and listen to God: Hearing His voice they will believe. "Faith cometh by hearing: and hearing by the Word of God." Mr. M.--All the sinner has to do is to repose in the promises of God? Mr. R.--Simply to trust Himself to God. Mr. M.--What would you say to a man who says he has tried a good many times and failed; and who has become discouraged? Mr. R.--That man has probably made a good many resolutions, hoping that he would gradually make himself a Christian by going through this or that process, or by doing this or that thing. Of course he failed, because he tried to make himself a Christian. Instead of trying to save himself, let him trust in God, who has pledged His word that every one who believes on the Lord Jesus Christ has at that moment everlasting life. Mr. M.--Should a man not break off from some of his sins before he comes to God? Suppose he swears or has a bad temper, should he not get a little control over his temper, or stop swearing, before he comes to Christ? Mr. R.--God knows that a man's nature is wrong: therefore He has promised to give a man a new nature. We must therefore go to God, just as a man goes to a physician, because he needs to be cured of some disease. Mr. M.--Can a drunkard or a blasphemer be saved all at once? Mr. R.--Paul says: "To him that worketh not, but believeth on Him that justifieth the ungodly" bad people, lost people, ruined people--"his faith is counted for righteousness." When he believes God, God becomes his Saviour. God is the friend of sinners. Mr. M.--What is it to believe God? Mr. R.--To take Him at His word. Mr. M.--Do you not think there are a good many here who believe that Jesus Christ is the Saviour of the world; and yet they are not saved? Mr. R.--No doubt; because they have not believed for themselves. A man at the time of the Deluge, for instance, might have said, "Yes, I believe it is a very good ark indeed; and that it will save those who get into it." But it does not follow that he got into it himself. The ark only saved those who went into it. So, when a man trusts in Jesus Christ for himself, Jesus becomes his personal and eternal Saviour. Mr. M.--What if he should fall into sin after he has believed in Christ? Mr. R.--"These things write I unto you that ye sin not," says John; "and if any man sin, we have an Advocate with the Father." The Good Physician will not give up His case because of the disease; He will deal with it. The Good Shepherd will not turn His poor wandering sheep away; He will go after it, and bring it back. He has promised that He will save His people _from_ their sins. Mr. M.--Is salvation within the reach of every man here tonight? Mr. R.--Jesus said, "God so loved the world that He gave his only begotten Son, that _whosoever_ believeth in Him should not perish, but have everlasting life." Mr. M.--But some say they do not feel that; they do not realize it. Mr. R.--When they take God at His word, and cast themselves upon Him, whether they feel it or not--when they confess Jesus Christ as their Lord--the Holy Ghost will come as a power to make them realize it. For instance, a man at the time of the Deluge might have stood outside the ark, and said, "I cannot realize how this ark will lift me up above the waters." But if he were inside when the flood came he would realize it. The sinner must believe first, and have his experience afterwards. A man is told that a certain train will take him to Edinburgh. He has never been there: he does not understand about this particular train; and he cannot realize that it will take him there. But he knows that he may trust the friend who told him; so he gets into the train. Then he realizes that he is in the train; by and by he will be able to realize that he is in Edinburgh. Mr. M.--Would you advise people to come to God as they are, with their unfeeling, treacherous, hard hearts--with any kind of heart? Mr. R.--God has provided this salvation for lost sinners--those who are thoroughly bad and corrupt. It is for such that God has shown His salvation, His love, His grace. Mr. M.--What would you say to any one who thinks he has no power to believe? Mr. R.--He _has_ the power to believe. Probably he is trying to believe something about himself; to feel something about himself instead of giving credit to God--He is not asked to realize this or that about himself, but to believe the faithful God. Mr. M.--Some say they have no power to overcome a besetting sin? Mr. R.--Jesus came proclaiming liberty to the captives. As we read in the beautiful words of the Church of England Prayer-book: "Though we be tied and bound by the chains of our sin, let the pitifulness of Thy mercy save us." Jesus Christ takes the prisoners of sin and breaks off their chains. Mr. M.--There is something said about confessing Christ. Would you advise any one who wants to become a Christian to start right here by confessing Christ with the mouth? Mr. R.--God is already on your side, whoever you are. Christ is Immanuel--God with us and for us. He is already on your side, whether you believe it or not. Now it is for you to decide whether He shall be your Saviour. He says that if you own Him as Lord--who is now the one rejected by the world--He is responsible to be your Saviour from that moment. 
30876	----	Eternal Life By Professor Henry Drummond Philadelphia Henry Altemus Copyright 1896 by Henry Altemus. ETERNAL LIFE. "This is Life Eternal--that they might know Thee, the True God, and Jesus Christ whom Thou has sent."--_Jesus Christ_. "Perfect correspondence would be perfect life. Were there no changes in the environment but such as the organism had adapted changes to meet, and were it never to fail in the efficiency with which it met them, there would be eternal existence and eternal knowledge."--_Herbert Spencer_. ONE of the most startling achievements of recent science is a definition of Eternal Life. To the religious mind this is a contribution of immense moment. For eighteen hundred years only one definition of Life Eternal was before the world. Now there are two. Through all these centuries revealed religion had this doctrine to itself. Ethics had a voice, as well as Christianity, on the question of the _summum bonum_; Philosophy ventured to speculate on the Being of a God. But no source outside Christianity contributed anything to the doctrine of Eternal Life. Apart from Revelation, this great truth was unguaranteed. It was the one thing in the Christian system that most needed verification from without, yet none was forthcoming. And never has any further light been thrown upon the question why in its very nature the Christian Life should be Eternal. Christianity itself even upon this point has been obscure. Its decision upon the bare fact is authoritative and specific. But as to what there is in the Spiritual Life necessarily endowing it with the element of Eternity, the maturest theology is all but silent. It has been reserved for modern biology at once to defend and illuminate this central truth of the Christian faith. And hence in the interests of religion, practical and evidential, this second and scientific definition of Eternal Life is to be hailed as an announcement of commanding interest. Why it should not yet have received the recognition of religious thinkers--for already it has lain some years unnoticed--is not difficult to understand. The belief in Science as an aid to faith is not yet ripe enough to warrant men in searching there for witnesses to the highest Christian truths. The inspiration of Nature, it is thought, extends to the humbler doctrines alone. And yet the reverent inquirer who guides his steps in the right direction may find even now in the still dim twilight of the scientific world much that will illuminate and intensify his sublimest faith. Here, at least, comes, and comes unbidden, the opportunity of testing the most vital point of the Christian system. Hitherto the Christian philosopher has remained content with the scientific evidence against Annihilation. Or, with Butler, he has reasoned from the Metamorphoses of Insects to a future life. Or again, with the authors of "The Unseen Universe," the apologist has constructed elaborate, and certainly impressive, arguments upon the Law of Continuity. But now we may draw nearer. For the first time Science touches Christianity _positively_ on the doctrine of Immortality. It confronts us with an actual definition of an Eternal Life, based on a full and rigidly accurate examination of the necessary conditions. Science does not pretend that it can fulfil these conditions. Its votaries make no claim to possess the Eternal Life. It simply postulates the requisite conditions without concerning itself whether any organism should ever appear, or does now exist, which might fulfil them. The claim of religion, on the other hand, is that there are organisms which possess Eternal Life. And the problem for us to solve is this: Do those who profess to possess Eternal Life fulfil the conditions required by Science, or are they different conditions? In a word, Is the Christian conception of Eternal Life scientific? It may be unnecessary to notice at the outset that the definition of Eternal Life drawn up by Science was framed without reference to religion. It must indeed have been the last thought with the thinker to whom we chiefly owe it, that in unfolding the conception of a Life in its very nature necessarily eternal, he was contributing to Theology. Mr. Herbert Spencer--for it is to him we owe it--would be the first to admit the impartiality of his definition; and from the connection in which it occurs in his writings, it is obvious that religion was not even present to his mind. He is analyzing with minute care the relations between Environment and Life. He unfolds the principle according to which Life is high or low, long or short. He shows why organisms live and why they die. And finally he defines a condition of things in which an organism would never die--in which it would enjoy a perpetual and perfect Life. This to him is, of course, but a speculation. Life Eternal is a biological conceit. The conditions necessary to an Eternal Life do not exist in the natural world. So that the definition is altogether impartial and independent. A Perfect Life, to Science, is simply a thing which is theoretically possible--like a Perfect Vacuum. Before giving, in so many words, the definition of Mr. Herbert Spencer, it will render it fully intelligible if we gradually lead up to it by a brief rehearsal of the few and simple biological facts on which it is based. In considering the subject of Death, we have formerly seen that there are degrees of Life. By this is meant that some lives have more and fuller correspondence with Environment than others. The amount of correspondence, again, is determined by the greater or less complexity of the organism. Thus a simple organism like the Amoeba is possessed of very few correspondences. It is a mere sac of transparent structureless jelly for which organization has done almost nothing, and hence it can only communicate with the smallest possible area of Environment. An insect, in virtue of its more complex structure, corresponds with a wider area. Nature has endowed it with special faculties for reaching out to the Environment on many sides; it has more life than the Amoeba. In other words, it is a higher animal. Man again, whose body is still further differentiated, or broken up into different correspondences, finds himself _en rapport_ with his surroundings to a further extent. And therefore he is higher still, more living still. And this law, that the degree of Life varies with the degree of correspondence, holds to the minutest detail throughout the entire range of living things. Life becomes fuller and fuller, richer and richer, more and more sensitive and responsive to an ever-widening Environment as we rise in the chain of being. Now it will speedily appear that a distinct relation exists, and must exist, between complexity and longevity. Death being brought about by the failure of an organism to adjust itself to some change in the Environment, it follows that those organisms which are able to adjust themselves most readily and successfully will live the longest. They will continue time after time to effect the appropriate adjustment, and their power of doing so will be exactly proportionate to their complexity--that is, to the amount of Environment they can control with their correspondences. There are, for example, in the Environment of every animal certain things which are directly or indirectly dangerous to Life. If its equipment of correspondences is not complete enough to enable it to avoid these dangers in all possible circumstances, it must sooner or later succumb. The organism then with the most perfect set of correspondences, that is, the highest and most complex organism, has an obvious advantage over less complex forms. It can adjust itself more perfectly and frequently. But this is just the biological way of saying that it can live the longest. And hence the relation between complexity and longevity may be expressed thus--the most complex organisms are the longest lived. To state and illustrate the proposition conversely may make the point still further clear. The less highly organized an animal is, the less will be its chance of remaining in lengthened correspondence with its Environment. At some time or other in its career circumstances are sure to occur to which the comparatively immobile organism finds itself structurally unable to respond. Thus a _Medusa_ tossed ashore by a wave, finds itself so out of correspondence with its new surroundings that its life must pay the forfeit. Had it been able by internal change to adapt itself to external change--to correspond sufficiently with the new environment, as for example to crawl, as an eel would have done, back into that environment with which it had completer correspondence--its life might have been spared. But had this happened it would continue to live henceforth only so long as it could continue in correspondence with all the circumstances in which it might find itself. Even if, however, it became complex enough to resist the ordinary and direct dangers of its environment, it might still be out of correspondence with others. A naturalist for instance, might take advantage of its want of correspondence with particular sights and sounds to capture it for his cabinet, or the sudden dropping of a yacht's anchor or the turn of a screw might cause its untimely death. Again, in the case of a bird in virtue of its more complex organization, there is command over a much larger area of environment. It can take precautions such as the _Medusa_ could not; it has increased facilities for securing food; its adjustments all round are more complex; and therefore it ought to be able to maintain its Life for a longer period. There is still a large area, however, over which it has no control. Its power of internal change is not complete enough to afford it perfect correspondence with all external changes, and its tenure of Life is to that extent insecure. Its correspondence, moreover, is limited even with regard to those external conditions with which it has been partially established. Thus a bird in ordinary circumstances has no difficulty in adapting itself to changes of temperature, but if these are varied beyond the point at which its capacity of adjustment begins to fail--for example, during an extreme winter--the organism being unable to meet the condition must perish. The human organism, on the other hand, can respond to this external condition, as well as to countless other vicissitudes under which lower forms would inevitably succumb. Man's adjustments are to the largest known area of Environment, and hence he ought to be able furthest to prolong his Life. It becomes evident, then, that as we ascend in the scale of Life we rise also in the scale of longevity. The lowest organisms are, as a rule, shortlived, and the rate of mortality diminishes more or less regularly as we ascend in the animal scale. So extraordinary indeed is the mortality among lowly-organized forms that in most cases a compensation is actually provided, nature endowing them with a marvellously increased fertility in order to guard against absolute extinction. Almost all lower forms are furnished not only with great reproductive powers, but with different methods of propagation, by which, in various circumstances, and in an incredibly short time, the species can be indefinitely multiplied. Ehrenberg found that by the repeated subdivisions of a single _Paramecium_, no fewer than 268,000,000 similar organisms might be produced in one month. This power steadily decreases as we rise higher in the scale, until forms are reached in which one, two, or at most three, come into being at a birth. It decreases, however because it is no longer needed. These forms have a much longer lease of Life. And it may be taken as a rule, although it has exceptions, that complexity in animal organisms is always associated with longevity. It may be objected that these illustrations are taken merely from morbid conditions. But whether the Life be cut short by accident or by disease the principle is the same. All dissolution is brought about practically in the same way. A certain condition in the Environment fails to be met by a corresponding condition in the organism, and this is death. And conversely the more an organism in virtue of its complexity can adapt itself to all the parts of its Environment, the longer it will live. "It is manifest _a priori_," says Mr. Herbert Spencer, "that since changes in the physical state of the environment, as also those mechanical actions and those variations of available food which occur in it, are liable to stop the processes going on in the organism; and since the adaptive changes in the organism have the effects of directly or indirectly counterbalancing these changes in the environment, it follows that the life of the organism will be short or long, low or high, according to the extent to which changes in the environment are met by corresponding changes in the organism. Allowing a margin for perturbations, the life will continue only while the correspondence continues; the completeness of the life will be proportionate to the completeness of the correspondence; and the life will be perfect only when the correspondence is perfect." [1] [1] "Principles of Biology," p. 82. We are now all but in sight of our scientific definition of Eternal Life. The desideratum is an organism with a correspondence of a very exceptional kind. It must lie beyond the reach of those "mechanical actions" and those "variations of available food," which are "liable to stop the processes going on in the organism." Before we reach an Eternal Life we must pass beyond that point at which all ordinary correspondences inevitably cease. We must find an organism so high and complex, that at some point in its development it shall have added a correspondence which organic death is powerless to arrest. We must, in short, pass beyond that finite region where the correspondences depend on evanescent and material media, and enter a further region where the Environment corresponded with is itself Eternal. Such an Environment exists. The Environment of the Spiritual world is outside the influence of these "mechanical actions," which sooner or later interrupt the processes going on in all finite organisms. If then we can find an organism which has established a correspondence with the spiritual world, that correspondence will possess the elements of eternity-- provided only one other condition be fulfilled. That condition is that the Environment be perfect. If it is not perfect, if it is not the highest, if it is endowed with the finite quality of change, there can be no guarantee that the Life of its correspondents will be eternal. Some change might occur in it which the correspondents had no adaptive changes to meet, and Life would cease. But grant a spiritual organism in perfect correspondence with a perfect spiritual Environment, and the conditions necessary to Eternal Life are satisfied. The exact terms of Mr. Herbert Spencer's definition of Eternal Life may now be given. And it will be seen that they include essentially the conditions here laid down. "Perfect correspondence would be perfect life. Were there no changes in the environment but such as the organism had adapted changes to meet, and were it never to fail in the efficiency with which it met them, there would be eternal existence and eternal knowledge." [1] Reserving the question as to the possible fulfilment of these conditions, let us turn for a moment to the definition of Eternal Life laid down by Christ. Let us place it alongside the definition of Science, and mark the points of contact. Uninterrupted correspondence with a perfect Environment is Eternal Life according to Science. "This is Life Eternal," said Christ, "that they may know Thee, the only true God, and Jesus Christ whom Thou has sent." [2] Life Eternal is to know God. To know God is to "correspond" with God. To correspond with God is to correspond with a Perfect Environment. And the organism which attains to this, in the nature of things must live for ever. Here is "eternal existence and eternal knowledge." [1] "Principles of Biology," p. 88. [2] John xvii. The main point of agreement between the scientific and the religious definition is that Life consists in a peculiar and personal relation defined as a "correspondence." This conception, that Life consists in correspondences, has been so abundantly illustrated already that it is now unnecessary to discuss it further. All Life indeed consists essentially in correspondences with various Environments. The artist's life is a correspondence with art; the musician's with music. To cut them off from these Environments is in that relation to cut off their Life. To be cut off from all Environment is death. To find a new Environment again and cultivate relation with it is to find a new Life. To live is to correspond, and to correspond is to live. So much is true in Science. But it is also true in Religion. And it is of great importance to observe that to Religion also the conception of Life is a correspondence. No truth of Christianity has been more ignorantly or wilfully travestied than the doctrine of Immortality. The popular idea, in spite of a hundred protests, is that Eternal Life is to live forever. A single glance at the _locus classicus_, might have made this error impossible. There we are told that Life Eternal is not to live. This is Life Eternal--_to know_. And yet--and it is a notorious instance of the fact that men who are opposed to Religion will take their conceptions of its profoundest truths from mere vuglar perversions--this view still represents to many cultivated men the Scriptural doctrine of Eternal Life. From time to time the taunt is thrown at Religion, not unseldom from lips which Science ought to have taught more caution, that the Future Life of Christianity is simply a prolonged existence, an eternal monotony, a blind and indefinite continuance of being. The Bible never could commit itself to any such empty platitude; nor could Christianity ever offer to the world a hope so colorless. Not that Eternal Life has nothing to do with everlastingness. That is part of the conception. And it is this aspect of the question that first arrests us in the field of Science. But even Science has more in its definition than longevity. It has a correspondence and an Environment; and although it cannot fill up these terms for Religion, it can indicate at least the nature of the relation, the kind of thing that is meant by Life. Science speaks to us indeed of much more than numbers of years. It defines degrees of Life. It explains a widening Environment. It unfolds the relation between a widening Environment and increasing complexity in organisms. And if it has no absolute contribution to the content of Religion, its analogies are not limited to a point. It yields to Immortality, and this is the most that Science can do in any case, the broad framework for a doctrine. The further definition, moreover, of this correspondence as _knowing_ is in the highest degree significant. Is not this the precise quality in an Eternal correspondence which the analogies of Science would prepare us to look for? Longevity is associated with complexity. And complexity in organisms is manifested by the successive addition of correspondences, each richer and larger than those which have gone before. The differentiation, therefore, of the spiritual organism ought to be signalized by the addition of the highest possible correspondence. It is not essential to the idea that the correspondence should be altogether novel; it is necessary rather that it should not. An altogether new correspondence appearing suddenly without shadow or prophecy would be a violation of continuity. What we should expect would be something new, and yet something that we were already prepared for. We should look for a further development in harmony with current developments; the extension of the last and highest correspondence in a new and higher direction. And this is exactly what we have. In the world with which biology deals, Evolution culminates in Knowledge. At whatever point in the zoological scale this correspondence, or set of correspondences, begins, it is certain there is nothing higher. In its stunted infancy merely, when we meet with its rudest beginnings in animal intelligence, it is a thing so wonderful, as to strike every thoughtful and reverent observer with awe. Even among the invertebrates so marvellously are these or kindred powers displayed, that naturalists do not hesitate now, on the ground of intelligence at least, to classify some of the humblest creatures next to man himself. [1] Nothing in nature, indeed, is so unlike the rest of nature, so prophetic of what is beyond it, so supernatural. And as manifested in Man who crowns creation with his all-embracing consciousness, there is but one word to describe his knowledge; it is Divine. If then from this point there is to be any further Evolution, this surely must be the correspondence in which it shall take place? This correspondence is great enough to demand development; and yet it is little enough to need it. The magnificence of what it has achieved relatively, is the pledge of the possibility of more; the insignificance of its conquest absolutely involves the probability of still richer triumphs. If anything, in short, in humanity is to go on it must be this. Other correspondences may continue likewise; others, again, we can well afford to leave behind. But this cannot cease. This correspondence--or this set of correspondences, for it is very complex--is it not that to which men with one consent would attach Eternal Life? Is there anything else to which they would attach it? Is anything better conceivable, anything worthier, fuller, nobler, anything which would represent a higher form of Evolution or offer a more perfect ideal for an Eternal Life? [1] _Vide_ Sir John Lubbock's "Ants, Bees, and Wasps," pp. 1, 181. But these are questions of quality; and the moment we pass from quantity to quality we leave Science behind. In the vocabulary of Science, Eternity is only the fraction of a word. It means mere everlastingness. To Religion, on the other hand, Eternity has little to do with time. To correspond with the God of Science, the Eternal Unknowable, would be everlasting existence; to correspond with "the true God and Jesus Christ," is Eternal Life. The quality of the Eternal Life alone makes the heaven; mere everlastingness might be no boon. Even the brief span of the temporal life is too long for those who spend its years in sorrow. Time itself, let alone Eternity, is all but excruciating to Doubt. And many besides Schopenhauer have secretly regarded consciousness as the hideous mistake and malady of Nature. Therefore we must not only have quantity of years, to speak in the language of the present, but quality of correspondence. When we leave Science behind, this correspondence also receives a higher name. It becomes communion. Other names there are for it, religious and theological. It may be included in a general expression, Faith; or we may call it by a personal and specific term, Love. For the knowing of a Whole so great involves the co-operation of many parts. Communion with God--can it be demonstrated in terms of Science that this is a correspondence which will never break? We do not appeal to Science for such a testimony. We have asked for its conception of an Eternal Life; and we have received for answer that Eternal Life would consist in a correspondence which should never cease, with an Environment which should never pass away. And yet what would Science demand of a perfect correspondence that is not met by this, _the knowing of God?_ There is no other correspondence which could satisfy one at least of the conditions. Not one could be named which would not bear on the face of it the mark and pledge of its mortality. But this, to know God, stands alone. To know God, to be linked with God, to be linked with Eternity-- if this is not the "eternal existence" of biology, what can more nearly approach it? And yet we are still a great way off--to establish a communication with the Eternal is not to secure Eternal Life. It must be assumed that the communication could be sustained. And to assume this would be to beg the question. So that we have still to prove Eternal Life. But let it be again repeated, we are not here seeking proofs. We are seeking light. We are merely reconnoitering from the furthest promontory of Science if so be that through the haze we may discern the outline of a distant coast and come to some conclusion as to the possibility of landing. But, it may be replied, it is not open to any one handling the question of Immortality from the side of Science to remain neutral as to the question of fact. It is not enough to announce that he has no addition to make to the positive argument. This may be permitted with reference to other points of contact between Science and Religion, but not with this. We are told this question is settled--that there is no positive side. Science meets the entire conception of Immortality with a direct negative. In the face of a powerful consensus against even the possibility of a Future Life, to content oneself with saying that Science pretended to no argument in favor of it would be at once impertinent and dishonest. We must therefore devote ourselves for a moment to the question of possibility. The problem is, with a material body and a mental organization inseparably connected with it, to bridge the grave. Emotion, volition, thought itself, are functions of the brain. When the brain is impaired, they are impaired. When the brain is not, they are not. Everything ceases with the dissolution of the material fabric; muscular activity and mental activity perish alike. With the pronounced positive statements on this point from many departments of modern Science we are all familiar. The fatal verdict is recorded by a hundred hands and with scarcely a shadow of qualification. "Unprejudiced philosophy is compelled to reject the idea of an individual immortality and of a personal continuance after death. With the decay and dissolution of its material substratum, through which alone it has acquired a conscious existence and become a person, and upon which it was dependent, the spirit must cease to exist." [l] To the same effect, Vogt: "Physiology decides definitely and categorically against individual immortality, as against any special existence of the soul. The soul does not enter the foetus like the evil spirit into persons possessed, but is a product of the development of the brain, just as muscular activity is a product of muscular development, and secretion a product of glandular development." After a careful review of the position of recent Science with regard to the whole doctrine, Mr. Graham sums up thus: "Such is the argument of Science, seemingly decisive against a future Life. As we listen to her array of syllogisms, our hearts die within us. The hopes of men, placed in one scale to be weighed, seem to fly up against the massive weight of her evidence, placed in the other. It seems as if all our arguments were vain and unsubstantial, as if our future expectations were the foolish dreams of children, as if there could not be any other possible verdict arrived at upon the evidence brought forward." [2] [1] Büchner: "Force and Matter," 3d ed., p. 232. [2] "The Creed of Science," p. 169. Can we go on in the teeth of so real an obstruction? Has not our own weapon turned against us, Science abolishing with authoritative hand the very truth we are asking it to define? What the philosopher has to throw into the other scale can be easily indicated. Generally speaking, he demurs to the dogmatism of the conclusion. That mind and brain react, that the mental and the physiological processes are related, and very intimately related, is beyond controversy. But how they are related, he submits, is still altogether unknown. The correlation of mind and brain do not involve their identity. And not a few authorities accordingly have consistently hesitated to draw any conclusion at all. Even Büchner's statement turns out, on close examination, to be tentative in the extreme. In prefacing his chapter on Personal Continuance, after a single sentence on the dependence of the soul and its manifestations upon a material substratum, he remarks, "Though we are unable to form a definite idea as to the _how_ of this connection, we are still by these facts justified in asserting, that the mode of this connection renders it _apparently_ impossible that they should continue to exist separately." [1] There is, therefore, a flaw at this point in the argument for materialism. It may not help the spiritualist in the least degree positively. He may be as far as ever from a theory of how consciousness could continue without the material tissue. But his contention secures for him the right of speculation. The path beyond may lie in hopeless gloom; but it is not barred. He may bring forward his theory if he will. And this is something. For a permission to go on is often the most that Science can grant to Religion. [1] "Force and Matter," p. 231. Men have taken advantage of this loophole in various ways. And though it cannot be said that these speculations offer us more than a probability, this is still enough to combine with the deep-seated expectation in the bosom of mankind and give fresh lustre to the hope of a future life. Whether we find relief in the theory of a simple dualism; whether with Ulrici we further define the soul as an invisible enswathement of the body, material yet non-atomic; whether, with the "Unseen Universe," we are helped by the spectacle of known forms of matter shading off into an evergrowing subtilty, mobility, and immateriality; or whether, with Wundt, we regard the soul as "the ordered unity of many elements," it is certain that shapes can be given to the conception of a correspondence which shall bridge the grave such as to satisfy minds too much accustomed to weigh evidence to put themselves off with fancies. But whether the possibilities of physiology or the theories of philosophy do or do not substantially assist us in realizing Immortality, is to Religion, to Religion at least regarded from the present point of view, of inferior moment. The fact of Immortality rests for us on a different basis. Probably, indeed, after all the Christian philosopher never engaged himself in a more superfluous task than in seeking along physiological lines to find room for a soul. The theory of Christianity has only to be fairly stated to make manifest its thorough independence of all the usual speculations on immortality. The theory is not that thought, volition, or emotion, as such are to survive the grave. The difficulty of holding a doctrine is this form, in spite of what has been advanced to the contrary, in spite of the hopes and wishes of mankind, in spite of all the scientific and philosophical attempts to make it tenable, is still profound. No secular theory of personal continuance, as even Butler acknowledged, does not equally demand the eternity of the brute. No secular theory defines the point in the chain of Evolution at which organisms become endowed with Immortality. No secular theory explains the condition of the endowment, nor indicates its goal. And if we have nothing more to fan hope than the unexplored mystery of the whole region, or the unknown remainders among the potencies of Life, then, as those who have "hope only in this world," we are "of all men the most miserable." When we turn, on the other hand, to the doctrine as it came from the lips of Christ, we find ourselves in an entirely different region. He makes no attempt to project the material into the immaterial. The old elements, however refined and subtle as to their matter, are not in themselves to inherit the Kingdom of God. That which is flesh is flesh. Instead of attaching Immortality to the natural organism, He introduces a new and original factor which none of the secular, and few even of the theological theories, seem to take sufficiently into account. To Christanity, "he that hath the Son of God hath Life, and he that hath not the Son hath not Life." This, as we take it, defines the correspondence which is to bridge the grave. This is the clue to the nature of the Life that lies at the back of the spiritual organism. And this is the true solution of the mystery of Eternal Life. There lies a something at the back of the correspondences of the spiritual organism--just as there lies a something at the back of the natural correspondence. To say that Life is a correspondence is only to express the partial truth. There is something behind. Life manifests itself in correspondences. But what determines them? The organism exhibits a variety of correspondences. What organizes them? As in the natural, so in the spiritual, there is a Principle of Life. We cannot get rid of that term. However clumsy, however provisional, however much a mere cloak for ignorance, Science as yet is unable to dispense with the idea of a Principle of Life. We must work with the word till we get a better. Now that which determines the correspondence of the spiritual organism is a Principle of Spiritual Life. It is a new and Divine Possession. He that hath the Son hath Life; conversely, he that hath Life hath the Son. And this indicates at once the quality and the quantity of the correspondence which is to bridge the grave. He that hath Life hath _the Son_. He possesses the Spirit of the Son. That Spirit is, so to speak, organized within him by the Son. It is the manifestation of the new nature--of which more anon. The fact to note at present is that this is not an organic correspondence, but a spiritual correspondence. It comes not from generation, but from regeneration. The relation between the spiritual man and his Environment is, in theological language, a filial relation. With the new Spirit, the filial correspondence, he knows the Father and this is Life Eternal. This is not only the real relation, but the only possible relation: "Neither knoweth any man the Father save the Son, and he to whomsoever the Son will reveal Him." And this on purely natural grounds. It takes the Divine to know the Divine--but in no more mysterious sense than it takes the human to understand the human. The analogy, indeed, for the whole field here has been finely expressed already by Paul: "What man," he asks, "knoweth the things of a man, save the spirit of man which is in him? even so the things of God knoweth no man, but the Spirit of God. Now we have received, not the spirit of the world, but the Spirit which is of God; that we might know the things that are freely given to us of God." [1] [1] 1 Cor. ii. 11, 12. It were idle, such being the quality of the new relation, to add that this also contains the guarantee of its eternity. Here at last is a correspondence which will never cease. Its powers in bridging the grave have been tried. The correspondence of the spiritual man possesses the supernatural virtues of the Resurrection and the Life. It is known by former experiment to have survived the "changes in the physical state of the environment," and those "mechanical actions" and "variations of available food," which Mr. Herbert Spencer tells us are "liable to stop the processes going on in the organism." In short, this is a correspondence which at once satisfies the demands of Science and Religion. In mere quantity it is different from every other correspondence known. Setting aside everything else in Religion, everything adventitious, local, and provisional; dissecting into the bone and marrow we find this--a correspondence which can never break with an Environment which can never change. Here is a relation established with Eternity. The passing years lay no limiting hand on it. Corruption injures it not. It survives Death. It, and it only, will stretch beyond the grave and be found inviolate-- "When the moon is old, And the stars are cold, And the books of the Judgment-day unfold." The misgiving which will creep sometimes over the brightest faith has already received its expression and its rebuke: "Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword?" Shall these "changes in the physical state of the environment" which threaten death to the natural man destroy the spiritual? Shall death, or life, or angels, or principalities, or powers, arrest or tamper with his eternal correspondences? "Nay, in all these things we are more than conquerors through Him that loved us. For I am persuaded that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature, shall be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord." [1] [1] Rom. viii. 35-39. It may seem an objection to some that the "perfect correspondence" should come to man in so extraordinary a way. The earlier stages in the doctrine are promising enough ; they are entirely in line with Nature. And if Nature had also furnished the "perfect correspondence" demanded for an Eternal Life the position might be unassailable. But this sudden reference to a something outside the natural Environment destroys the continuity, and discovers a permanent weakness in the whole theory? To which there is a twofold reply. In the first place, to go outside what we call Nature is not to go outside Environment. Nature, the natural Environment, is only a part of Environment. There is another large part which, though some profess to have no correspondence with it, is not on that account unreal, or even unnatural. The mental and moral world is unknown to the plant. But it is real. It cannot be affirmed either that it is unnatural to the plant; although it might be said that from the point of view of the Vegetable Kingdom it was _supernatural_. Things are natural or supernatural simply according to where one stands. Man is supernatural to the mineral; God is supernatural to the man. When a mineral is seized upon by the living plant and elevated to the organic kingdom, no tresspass against Nature is committed. It merely enters a larger Environment, which before was supernatural to it, but which now is entirely natural. When the heart of a man, again, is seized upon by the quickening Spirit of God, no further violence is done to natural law. It is another case of the inorganic, so to speak, passing into the organic. But, in the second place, it is complained as if it were an enormity in itself that the spiritual correspondence should be furnished from the spiritual world. And to this the answer lies in the same direction. Correspondence in any case is the gift of Environment. The natural Environment gives men their natural faculties; the spiritual affords them their spiritual faculties. It is natural for the spiritual Environment to supply the spiritual faculties; it would be quite unnatural for the natural Environment to do it. The natural law of Biogenesis forbids it; the moral fact that the finite cannot comprehend the Infinite is against it; the spiritual principle that flesh and blood cannot inherit the kingdom of God renders it absurd. Not, however, that the spiritual faculties are, as it were, manufactured in the spiritual world and supplied ready-made to the spiritual organism--forced upon it as an external equipment. This certainly is not involved in saying that the spiritual faculties are furnished by the spiritual world. Organisms are not added to by accretion, as in the case of minerals, but by growth. And the spiritual faculties are organized in the spiritual protoplasm of the soul, just as other faculties are organized in the protoplasm of the body. The plant is made of materials which have once been inorganic. An organizing principle not belonging to their kingdom lays hold of them and elaborates them until they have correspondences with the kingdom to which the organizing principle belonged. Their original organizing principle, if it can be called by this name, was Crystallization; so that we have now a distinctly foreign power organizing in totally new and higher directions. In the spiritual world, similarly, we find an organizing principle at work among the materials of the organic kingdom, per forming a further miracle, but not a different kind of miracle, producing organizations of a novel kind, but not by a novel method. The second process, in fact, is simply what an enlightened evolutionist would have expected from the first. It marks the natural and legitimate progress of the development. And this in the line of the true Evolution--not the _linear_ Evolution, which would look for the development of the natural man through powers already inherent, as if one were to look to Crystallization to accomplish the development of the mineral into the plant,--but that larger form of Evolution which includes among its factors the double Law of Biogenesis and the immense further truth that this involves. What is further included in this complex correspondence we shall have opportunity to illustrate afterwards. [1] Meantime let it be noted on what the Christian argument for Immortality really rests. It stands upon the pedestal on which the theologian rests the whole of historical Christianity--the Resurrection of Jesus Christ. [1] _Vide_ "Conformity to Type," page 287. It ought to be placed in the forefront of all Christian teaching that Christ's mission on earth was to give men Life. "I am come," He said, "that ye might have Life, and that ye might have it more abundantly." And that He meant literal Life, literal spiritual and Eternal Life, is clear from the whole course of His teaching and acting. To impose a metaphorical meaning on the commonest word of the New Testament is to violate every canon of interpretation, and at the same time to charge the greatest of teachers with persistently mystifying His hearers by an unusual use of so exact a vehicle for expressing definite thought as the Greek language, and that on the most momentous subject of which He ever spoke to men. It is a canon of interpretation, according to Alford, that "a figurative sense of words is never admissible except when required by the context." The context, in most cases, is not only directly unfavorable to a figurative meaning, but in innumerable instances in Christ's teaching Life is broadly contrasted with Death. In the teaching of the apostles, again, we find that, without exception, they accepted the term in its simple literal sense. Reuss defines the apostolic belief with his usual impartiality when--and the quotation is doubly pertinent here--he discovers in the apostle's conception of Life, first, "the idea of a real existence, an existence such as is proper to God and to the Word; an imperishable existence--that is to say, not subject to the vicissitudes and imperfections of the finite world. This primary idea is repeatedly expressed, at least in a negative form; it leads to a doctrine of immortality, or, to speak more correctly, of life, far surpassing any that had been expressed in the formulas of the current philosophy or theology, and resting upon premises and conceptions altogether different. In fact, it can dispense both with the philosophical thesis of the immateriality or indestructibility of the human soul, and with the theologicial thesis of a miraculous corporeal reconstruction of our person; theses, the first of which is altogether foreign to the religion of the Bible, and the second absolutely opposed to reason." Second, "the idea of life, as it is conceived in this system, implies the idea of a power, an operation, a communication, since this life no longer remains, so to speak, latent or passive in God and in the Word, but through them reaches the believer. It is not a mental somnolent thing; it is not a plant without fruit; it is a germ which is to find fullest development." [1] [1] "History of Christian Theology in the Apostolic Age," vol. ii. p. 496. If we are asked to define more clearly what is meant by this mysterious endowment of Life, we again hand over the difficulty to Science. When Science can define the Natural Life and the Physical Force we may hope for further clearness on the nature and action of the Spiritual Powers. The effort to detect the living Spirit must be at least as idle as the attempt to subject protoplasm to microscopic examination in the hope of discovering Life. We are warned, also, not to expect too much. "Thou canst not tell whence it cometh or whither it goeth." This being its quality, when the Spiritual Life is discovered in the laboratory it will possibly be time to give it up altogether. It may say, as Socrates of his soul, "You may bury me--if you can catch me." Science never corroborates a spiritual truth without illuminating it. The threshold of Eternity is a place where many shadows meet. And the light of Science here, where everything is so dark, is welcome a thousand times. Many men would be religious if they knew where to begin; many would be more religious if they were sure where it would end. It is not indifference that keeps some men from God, but ignorance. "Good Master, what must I do to inherit Eternal Life?" is still the deepest question of the age. What is Religion? What am I to believe? What seek with all my heart and soul and mind?--this is the imperious question sent up to consciousness from the depths of being in all earnest hours; sent down again, alas, with many of us, time after time, unanswered. Into all our thought and work and reading this question pursues us. But the theories are rejected one by one; the great books are returned sadly to their shelves, the years pass, and the problem remains unsolved. The confusion of tongues here is terrible. Every day a new authority announces himself. Poets, philosophers, preachers, try their hand on us in turn. New prophets arise, and beseech us for our soul's sake to give ear to them--at last in an hour of inspiration they have discovered the final truth. Yet the doctrine of yesterday is challenged by a fresh philosophy to-day; and the creed of to-day will fall in turn before the criticism of to-morrow. Increase of knowledge increaseth sorrow. And at length the conflicting truths, like the beams of light in the laboratory experiment, combine in the mind to make total darkness. But here are two outstanding authorities agreed--not men, not philosophers, not creeds. Here is the voice of God and the voice of Nature. I cannot be wrong if I listen to them. Sometimes when uncertain of a voice from its very loudness, we catch the missing syllable in the echo. In God and Nature we have Voice and Echo. When I hear both, I am assured. My sense of hearing does not betray me twice. I recognize the Voice in the Echo, the Echo makes me certain of the Voice; I listen and I know. The question of a Future Life is a biological question. Nature may be silent on other problems of Religion; but here she has a right to speak. The whole confusion around the doctrine of Eternal Life has arisen from making it a question of Philosophy. We shall do ill to refuse a hearing to any speculation of Philosophy; the ethical relations here especially are intimate and real. But in the first instance Eternal Life, as a question of _Life_, is a problem for Biology. The soul is a living organism. And for any question as to the soul's Life we must appeal to Life-science. And what does the Life-science teach? That if I am to inherit Eternal Life, I must cultivate a correspondence with the Eternal. This is a simple proposition, for Nature is always simple. I take this proposition, and, leaving Nature, proceed to fill it in. I search everywhere for a clue to the Eternal. I ransack literature for a definition of a correspondence between man and God. Obviously that can only come from one source. And the analogies of Science permit us to apply to it. All knowledge lies in Environment. When I want to know about minerals I go to minerals. When I want to know about flowers I go to flowers. And they tell me. In their own way they speak to me, each in its own way, and each for itself--not the mineral for the flower, which is impossible, nor the flower for the mineral, which is also impossible. So if I want to know about Man, I go to his part of the Environment. And he tells me about himself, not as the plant or the mineral, for he is neither, but in his own way. And if I want to know about God, I go to His part of the Environment. And he tells me about Himself, not as a Man, for He is not Man, but in His own way. And just as naturally as the flower and the mineral and the Man, each in their own way, tell me about themselves, He tells me about Himself. He very strangely condescends indeed in making things plain to me, actually assuming for a time the Form of a Man that I at my poor level may better see Him. This is my opportunity to know Him. This incarnation is God making Himself accessible to human thought--God opening to man the possibility of correspondence through Jesus Christ. And this correspondence and this Environment are those I seek. He Himself assures me, "This is Life Eternal, that they might know Thee, the only true God, and Jesus Christ whom Thou has sent." Do I not now discern the deeper meaning in "_Jesus Christ whom Thou has sent?_" Do I not better understand with what vision and rapture the profoundest of the disciples exclaims, "The Son of God is come, and hath given us an understanding that we might know Him that is True?" [1] [1] 1 John v. 20. Having opened correspondence with the Eternal Environment, the subsequent stages are in the line of all other normal development. We have but to continue, to deepen, to extend, and to enrich the correspondence that has been begun. And we shall soon find to our surprise that this is accompanied by another and parallel process. The action is not all upon our side. The Environment also will be found to correspond. The influence of Environment is one of the greatest and most substantial of modern biological doctrines. Of the power of Environment to form or transform organisms, of its ability to develop or suppress function, of its potency in determining growth, and generally of its immense influence in Evolution, there is no need now to speak. But Environment is now acknowledged to be one of the most potent factors in the Evolution of Life. The influence of Environment, too, seems to increase rather than diminish as we approach the higher forms of being. The highest forms are the most mobile; their capacity of change is the greatest; they are, in short, most easily acted on by Environment. And not only are the highest organisms the most mobile, but the highest parts of the highest organisms are more mobile than the lower. Environment can do little, comparatively, in the direction of inducing variation in the body of a child; but how plastic is its mind! How infinitely sensitive is its soul! How infallibly can it be tuned to music or to dissonance by the moral harmony or discord of its outward lot! How decisively indeed are we not all formed and moulded, made or unmade, by external circumstance! Might we not all confess with Ulysses,-- "I am a part of all that I have met?" Much more, then, shall we look for the influence of Environment on the spiritual nature of him who has opened correspondence with God. Reaching out his eager and quickened faculties to the spiritual world around him, shall he not become spiritual? In vital contact with Holiness, shall he not become holy? Breathing now an atmosphere of ineffable Purity, shall he miss becoming pure? Walking with God from day to day, shall he fail to be taught of God? Growth in grace is sometimes described as a strange, mystical, and unintelligible process. It is mystical, but neither strange nor unintelligible. It proceeds according to Natural Law, and the leading factor in sanctification is Influence of Environment. The possibility of it depends upon the mobility of the organism; the result, on the extent and frequency of certain correspondences. These facts insensibly lead on to further suggestion. Is it not possible that these biological truths may carry with them the clue to a still profounder philosophy--even that of Regeneration? Evolutionists tell us that by the influence of environment certain aquatic animals have become adapted to a terrestrial mode of life. Breathing normally by gills, as the result and reward of a continued effort carried on from generation to generation to inspire the air of heaven direct, they have slowly acquired the lung-function. In the young organism, true to the ancestral type, the gill still persists--as in the tadpole of the common frog. But as maturity approaches, the true lung appears; the gill gradually transfers its task to the higher organ. It then becomes atrophied and disappears, and finally respiration in the adult is conducted by lungs alone. [1] We may be far, in the meantime, from saying that this is proved. It is for those who accept it to deny the justice of the spiritual analogy. Is religion to them unscientific in its doctrine of Regeneration? Will the evolutionist who admits the regeneration of the frog under the modifying influence of a continued correspondence with a new environment, care to question the possibility of the soul acquiring such a faculty as that of Prayer, the marvellous breathing-function of the new creature, when in contact with the atmosphere of a besetting God? Is the change from the earthly to the heavenly more mysterious than the change from the aquatic to the terrestrial mode of life? Is Evolution to stop with the organic? If it be objected that it has taken ages to perfect the function in the batrachian, the reply is, that it will take ages to perfect the function in the Christian. For every thousand years the natural evolution will allow for the development of its organism, the Higher Biology will grant its product millions. We have indeed spoken of the spiritual correspondence as already perfect--but it is perfect only as the bud is perfect. "It doth not yet appear what it shall be," any more than it appeared a million years ago what the evolving batrachian would be. [1] _Vide_ also the remarkable experiments of Fräulein v. Chauvin on the Transformation of the Mexican Axoloti into Amblystoma.--Weismann's "Studies in the Theory of Descent," vol. ii. pt. iii. But to return. We have been dealing with the scientific aspects of communion with God. Insensibly, from quantity we have been led to speak of quality. And enough has now been advanced to indicate generally the nature of that correspondence with which is necessarily associated Eternal Life. There remain but one or two details to which we must lastly, and very briefly, address ourselves. The quality of everlastingness belongs, as we have seen, to a single correspondence, or rather to a single set of correspondences. But it is apparent that before this correspondence can take full and final effect a further process is necessary. By some means it must be separated from all the other correspondences of the organism which do not share its peculiar quality. In this life it is restrained by these other correspondences. They may contribute to it, or hinder it; but they are essentially of a different order. They belong not to Eternity but to Time, and to this present world; and, unless some provision is made for dealing with them, they will detain the aspiring organism in this present world till Time is ended. Of course, in a sense, all that belongs to Time belongs also to Eternity; but these lower correspondences are in their nature unfitted for an Eternal Life. Even if they were perfect in their relation to their Environment, they would still not be Eternal. However opposed, apparently, to the scientific definition of Eternal Life, it is yet true that perfect correspondence with Environment is not Eternal Life. A very important word in the complete definition is, in this sentence, omitted. On that word it has not been necessary hitherto, and for obvious reasons, to place any emphasis, but when we come to deal with false pretenders to Immortality we must return to it. Were the definition complete as it stands, it might, with the permission of the psycho-physiologist, guarantee the Immortality of every living thing. In the dog, for instance, the material framework giving way at death might leave the released canine spirit still free to inhabit the old Environment. And so with every creature which had ever established a conscious relation with surrounding things. Now the difficulty in framing a theory of Eternal Life has been to construct one which will exclude the brute creation, drawing the line rigidly at man, or at least somewhere within the human race. Not that we need object to the Immortality of the dog, or of the whole inferior creation. Nor that we need refuse a place to any intelligible speculation which would people the earth to-day with the invisible forms of all things that have ever lived. Only we still insist that this is not Eternal Life. And why? Because their Environment is not Eternal. Their correspondence, however firmly established, is established with that which shall pass away. An Eternal Life demands an Eternal Environment. The demand for a perfect Environment as well as for a perfect correspondence is less clear in Mr. Herbert Spencer's definition than it might be. But it is an essential factor. An organism might remain true to its Environment, but what if the Environment played it false? If the organism possessed the power to change, it could adapt itself to successive changes in the Environment. And if this were guaranteed we should also have the conditions for Eternal Life fulfilled. But what if the Environment passed away altogether? What if the earth swept suddenly into the sun? This is a change of Environment against which there could be no precaution and for which there could be as little provision. With a changing Environment even, there must always remain the dread and possibility of a falling out of correspondence. At the best, Life would be uncertain. But with a changeless Environment--such as that possessed by the spiritual organism--the perpetuity of the correspondence, so far as the external relation is concerned, is guaranteed. This quality of permanence in the Environment distinguishes the religious relation from every other. Why should not the musician's life be an Eternal Life? Because, for one thing, the musical world, the Environment with which he corresponds, is not eternal. Even if his correspondence in itself could last eternally, the environing material things with which he corresponds must pass away. His soul might last forever--but not his violin. So the man of the world might last forever--but not the world. His Environment is not eternal; nor are even his correspondences--the world passeth away _and the lust thereof_. We find, then, that man, or the spiritual man, is equipped with two sets of correspondences. One set possesses the quality of everlastingness, the other is temporal. But unless these are separated by some means the temporal will continue to impair and hinder the eternal. The final preparation, therefore, for the inheriting of Eternal Life must consist in the abandonment of the non-eternal elements. These must be unloosed and dissociated from the higher elements. And this is effected by a closing catastrophe--Death. Death ensues because certain relations in the organism are not adjusted to certain relations in the Environment. There will come a time in each history when the imperfect correspondences of the organism will betray themselves by a failure to compass some necessary adjustment. This is why Death is associated with Imperfection. Death is the necessary result of Imperfection, and the necessary end of it. Imperfect correspondence gives imperfect and uncertain Life. "Perfect correspondence," on the other hand, according to Mr. Herbert Spencer, would be "perfect Life." To abolish Death, therefore, all that would be necessary would be to abolish Imperfection. But it is the claim of Christianity that it can abolish Death. And it is significant to notice that it does so by meeting this very demand of Science--it abolishes Imperfection. The part of the organism which begins to get out of correspondence with the Organic Environment is the only part which is in vital correspondence with it. Though a fatal disadvantage to the natural man to be thrown out of correspondence with this Environment, it is of inestimable importance to the spiritual man. For so long as it is maintained the way is barred for a further Evolution. And hence the condition necessary for the further Evolution is that the spiritual be released from the natural. That is to say, the condition of the further Evolution is Death. _Mora janua Vitæ_, therefore, becomes a scientific formula. Death, being the final sifting of all the correspondences, is the indispensable factor of the higher Life. In the language of Science, not less than of Scripture, "To die is gain." The sifting of the correspondences is done by Nature. This is its last and greatest contribution to mankind. Over the mouth of the grave the perfect and the imperfect submit to their final separation. Each goes to its own--earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust, Spirit to Spirit. The dust shall return to the earth as it was; and the Spirit shall return unto God who gave it" Altemus' Illustrated Holly-Tree Series --- ALTEMUS' ILLUSTRATED HOLLY-TREE SERIES --- A series of good, clean books for young people, by authors whose fame for delightful stories is world-wide. They are well printed on fine paper, handsomely illustrated, have colored frontispieces, and are bound in cloth decorated in gold and colors. 50 cents. .. 1 THE HOLLY-TREE. _By Charles Dickens._ .. 2 THEN MARCHED THE BRAVE. _By Harriet T. Comstock._ .. 3 A MODERN CINDERELLA. _By Louisa M. Alcott._ .. 4 THE LITTLE MISSIONARY. _By Amanda M. Douglas._ .. 5 THE RULE OF THREE. _By Susan Coolidge._ .. 6 CHUGGINS. _By H. Irving Hancock._ .. 7 WHEN THE BRITISH CAME. _By Harriet T. Comstock._ .. 8 LITTLE FOXES. _By Rose Terry Cooke._ .. 9 AN UNRECORDED MIRACLE. _By Florence Morse Kingsley._ .. 10 THE STORY WITHOUT AN END. _By Sarah Austin._ .. 11 CLOVER'S PRINCESS. _By Amanda M. Douglas._ .. 12 THE SWEET STORY OF OLD. _By L. Haskeli._ Altemus' Illustrated One-Syllable Series --- ALTEMUS' ILLUSTRATED ONE-SYLLABLE SERIES FOR YOUNG READERS --- Embracing popular works arranged for the young folks in words of one syllable. Printed from extra-large, clear type on fine paper, and fully illustrated by the best artists. The handsomest line of books for young children before the public. Handsomely bound in cloth and gold, with illuminated sides, 50 cents. .. 1 �sop's FABLES. 62 illustrations. .. 2 A CHILD'S LIFE OF CHRIST. 49 illustrations. .. 4 THE ADVENTURES OF ROBINSON CRUSOE. 70 illustrations. .. 5 BUNYAN'S PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 46 illustrations. .. 6 SWISS FAMILY ROBINSON. 50 illustrations. .. 7 GULLIVER'S TRAVELS. 50 illustrations. .. 9 A CHILD'S STORY OF THE OLD TESTAMENT. 33 illustrations. .. 10 A CHILD'S STORY OF THE NEW TESTAMENT. 40 illustrations. .. 11 BIBLE STORIES FOR LITTLE CHILDREN. 41 illustrations. .. 12 THE STORY OF JESUS. 40 illustrations [Transcriber's note: misspellings have been left as they are in the source material.] 
30882	----	GOD AND MR. WELLS A CRITICAL EXAMINATION OF "GOD THE INVISIBLE KING" GOD AND MR. WELLS A CRITICAL EXAMINATION OF "GOD THE INVISIBLE KING" By WILLIAM ARCHER NEW YORK · ALFRED A. KNOPF · 1917 COPYRIGHT, 1917, BY ALFRED A. KNOPF _Published, September, 1917_ PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA FOREWORD As I look through the proofs of this little treatise, a twinge of compunction comes upon me. That humane philosopher Mr. Dooley has somewhere a saying to this effect: "When an astronomer tells me that he has discovered a new planet, I would be the last man to brush the fly off the end of his telescope." Would not this have been a good occasion for a similar exercise of urbanity? Nay, may it not be said that my criticism of _God the Invisible King_ is a breach of discipline, like duelling in the face of the enemy? I am proud to think that Mr. Wells and I are soldiers in the same army; ought we not at all costs to maintain a united front? On the destructive side (which I have barely touched upon) his book is brilliantly effective; on the constructive side, if unconvincing, it is thoughtful, imaginative, stimulating, a thing on the whole to be grateful for. Ought one not rather to hold one's peace than to afford the common enemy the encouragement of witnessing a squabble in the ranks? But we must not yield to the obsession of military metaphor. It is not what the enemy thinks or what Mr. Wells or I think that matters--it is what the men of the future ought to think, as being consonant with their own nature and with the nature of things. Ideas, like organisms, must abide the struggle for existence, and if the Invisible King is fitted to survive, my criticism will reinforce and not invalidate him. Even if he should come to life in a way one can scarcely anticipate, his proceedings will have to be carefully watched. He cannot claim the reticences of a "party truce." He will be all the better for a candid, though I hope not captious, Opposition. I thought of printing on my title-page a motto from Mr. Bernard Shaw; but it will perhaps come better here. "The fact," says Mr. Shaw, "that a believer is happier than a sceptic is no more to the point than the fact that a drunken man is happier than a sober one. The happiness of credulity is a cheap and dangerous quality of happiness, and by no means a necessity of life. Whether Socrates got as much happiness out of life as Wesley is an unanswerable question; but a nation of Socrateses would be much safer and happier than a nation of Wesleys; and its individuals would be higher in the evolutionary scale. At all events, it is in the Socratic man and not in the Wesleyan that our hope lies now." Besides, it has yet to be proved that the believer in the Invisible King is happier than the sceptic. LONDON, _May_ 24, 1917. CONTENTS I The Great Adventurer 1 II A God Who "Growed" 3 III New Myths for Old 8 IV The Apostle's Creed 32 V When Is a God Not a God? 47 VI For and Against Personification 73 VII Back to the Veiled Being 101 GOD AND MR. WELLS I THE GREAT ADVENTURER When it was known that Mr. H. G. Wells had set forth to discover God, all amateurs of intellectual adventure were filled with pleasurable excitement and anticipation. For is not Mr. Wells the great Adventurer of latter-day literature? No quest is too perilous for him, no forlorn-hope too daring. He led the first explorers to the moon. He it was who lured the Martians to earth and exterminated them with microbes. He has ensnared an angel from the skies and expiscated a mermaid from the deep. He has mounted a Time Machine (of his own invention) and gone careering down the vistas of the Future. But these were comparatively commonplace feats. After all, there had been a Jules Verne, there had been a Gulliver and a Peter Wilkins, there had been a More, a Morris and a Bellamy. It might be that he was fitted for far greater things. "There remains," we said to ourselves, "the blue ribbon of intellectual adventure, the unachieved North Pole of spiritual exploration. He has had countless predecessors in the enterprise, some of whom have loudly claimed success; but their log-books have been full of mere hallucinations and nursery tales. What if it should be reserved for Mr. Wells to bring back the first authentic news from a source more baffling than that of Nile or Amazon--the source of the majestic stream of Being? What if it should be given him to sign his name to the first truly-projected chart of the scheme of things?" We almost held our breath in eager anticipation, just as we did when there came from America a well-authenticated rumor that the problem of flying had at last been solved. Were we on the brink of another and much more momentous discovery? Was Mr. Wells to be the Peary of the great quest? Or only the last of a thousand Dr. Cooks? II A GOD WHO "GROWED" Our excitement, our suspense, were so much wasted emotion. Mr. Wells's enterprise was not at all what we had figured it to be. GOD THE INVISIBLE KING is a very interesting, and even stimulating disquisition, full of a fine social enthusiasm, and marked, in many passages, by deep poetic feeling. But it is not a work of investigation into the springs of Being. Mr. Wells explicitly renounces from the outset any dealings with "cosmogony." It is a description of a way of thinking, a system of nomenclature, which Mr. Wells declares to be extremely prevalent in "the modern mind," from which he himself extracts much comfort and fortification, and which he believes to be destined to regenerate the world. But Mr. Wells will not have it that what is involved is a mere system of nomenclature. He avers that he, in common with many other like-minded persons, has achieved, not so much an intellectual discovery as an emotional realisation, of something actual and objective which he calls God. He does not, so far as I remember, use the term "objective"; but as he insists that God is "a spirit, a person, a strongly marked and knowable personality" (p. 5), "a single spirit and a single person" (p. 18), "a great brother and leader of our little beings" (p. 24) with much more to the same purpose, it would seem that he must have in his mind an object external to us, no mere subjective "stream of tendency," or anything of that sort. It would of course be foolish to doubt the sincerity of the conviction which he so constantly and so eagerly asserts. Nevertheless, one cannot but put forward, even at this stage, the tentative theory that he is playing tricks with his own mind, and attributing reality and personality to something that was in its origin a figure of speech. He has been hypnotized by the word God: As when we dwell upon a word we know, Repeating, till the word we know so well Becomes a wonder, and we know not why. At all events, "God the Invisible King" is not the creator and sustainer of the universe. As to the origin of things Mr. Wells professes the most profound agnosticism. "At the back of all known things," he says, "there is an impenetrable curtain; the ultimate of existence is a Veiled Being, which seems to know nothing of life or death or good or ill.... The new religion does not pretend that the God of its life is that Being, or that he has any relation of control or association with that Being. It does not even assert that God knows all, or much more than we do, about that ultimate Being" (p. 14). Very good; but--here is the first question which seems to arise out of the Wellsian thesis--are we not entitled to ask of "the new religion" some more definite account of the relation between "God" and "the Veiled Being"? Surely it is not enough that it should simply refrain from "asserting" anything at all on the subject. If "God" is outside ourselves ("a Being, not us but dealing with us and through us," p. 6) we cannot leave him hanging in the void, like the rope which the Indian conjurer is fabled to throw up into the air till it hooks itself on to nothingness. If we are to believe in him as a lever for the righting of a world that has somehow run askew, we want to know something of his fulcrum. Is it possible thus to dissociate him from the Veiled Being, and proclaim him an independent, an agnostic God? Do we really get over any difficulty--do we not rather create new difficulties,--by saying, as Mr. Wells practically does, "Our God is no metaphysician. He does not care, and very likely does not know, how this tangle of existence came into being. He is only concerned to disentangle it a little, to reduce the chaos of the world to some sort of seemliness and order"? Is it an idle and presumptuous curiosity which enquires whether we are to consider him co-ordinate with the Veiled Being, and in that case probably hostile, or subordinate, and in that case instrumental? Are we, in a word, to consider the earth a little rebel state in the gigantic empire of the universe, working out its own salvation under its Invisible King? Or are we to regard God as the Viceroy of the Veiled Being, to whom, in that case, our ultimate allegiance is due? I talked the other day to a young Australian who had been breaking new land for wheat-growing. "What do you do?" I asked, "with the stumps of the trees you fell? It must be a great labour to clear them out." "We don't clear them out," he replied. "We use ploughs that automatically rise when they come to a stump, and take the earth again on the other side." I cannot but conjecture that Mr. Wells's thinking apparatus is fitted with some such automatic appliance for soaring gaily over the snags that stud the ploughlands of theology. III NEW MYTHS FOR OLD Before examining the particular attributes and activities of the Invisible King, let us look a little more closely into the question whether a God detached alike from man below and (so to speak) from heaven above, is a thinkable God in whom any satisfaction can be found. Mr. Wells must not reply (he probably would not think of doing so) that "satisfaction" is no test: that he asserts an objective truth which exists, like the Nelson Column or the Atlantic Ocean, whether we find satisfaction in it or not. Though he does not mention the word "pragmatism," his standards are purely pragmatist. He offers no jot or tittle of evidence for the existence of the Invisible King, except that it is a hypothesis which he finds to work extremely well. Satisfaction and nothing else is the test he applies. So we have every right to ask whether the renunciation of all concern about the Veiled Being, and concentration upon the thought of a finite God, practically unrelated to the infinite, can bring us any reasonable sense of reconciliation to the nature of things. For that, I take it, is the essence of religion. It was in no spirit of irony that I began this essay by expressing the lively interest with which I learned that Mr. Wells was setting out on the quest for God. The dogmatic agnosticism which declares it impossible ever to know anything about the whence, how and why of the universe does not seem to me more rational than any other dogma which jumps from "not yet" to "never." Mr. Wells himself disclaims that dogma. He says: "It may be that minds will presently appear among us of such a quality that the face of that Unknown will not be altogether hidden" (p. 108). And in another place (p. 15) he suggests that "our God, the Captain of Mankind," may one day enable us to "pierce the black wrappings," or, in other words, to get behind the veil. There is nothing, then, unreasonable or absurd in man's incurable inquisitiveness as to God, in the non-Wellsian sense of the term. God simply means the key to the mystery of existence; and though the keys hitherto offered have all either jammed or turned round and round without unlocking anything, it does not follow that no real key exists within the reach of human investigation or speculation. Therefore one naturally feels a little stirring of hope at the news that a fresh and keen intellect, untrammelled by the folk-lore theologies of the past, is applying itself to the problem. It is always possible, however improbable, that we may be helped a little forwarder on the path towards realization. One comes back to the before-mentioned analogy of flying. We had been assured over and over again, on the highest authority, that it was an idle dream. When we wanted to express the superlative degree of the impossible, we said "I can no more do it than I can fly." But the irrepressible spirit of man was not to be daunted by _à priori_ demonstrations of impossibility. One day there came the rumour that the thing had been achieved, followed soon by ocular demonstration; and now we rub shoulders every day with men who have outsoared the eagle, and--alas!--carried death and destruction into the hitherto stainless empyrean. It would seem, then, that there is no reason absolutely to despair of some advance towards a conception of the nature and reason of the universe. And it is certain that Mr. Wells's God would stand a better chance of satisfying the innate needs of the human intelligence if he had not (apparently) given up as a bad job the attempt to relate himself to the causal plexus of the All. Is he outside that causal plexus, self-begotten, self-existent? Then he is the miracle of miracles, a second mystery superimposed on the first. If, on the other hand, he falls within the system, he might surely manage to convey to his disciples some glimmering notion of his place in it. The birth-stories of Gods are always grotesque and unedifying, but that is because they belong to folk-lore. If this God does not belong to folk-lore, surely his relation to the Veiled Being might be indicated without impropriety. Mr. Wells, as we have seen, hints that his reticence may be due to the fact that he does not know. In that case this "modern" God is suspiciously like all the ancient Gods, whose most unfortunate characteristic was that they never knew anything more than their worshippers. The reason was not far to seek--namely, that they were mere projections of the minds of these worshippers, fashioned in their own image. But Mr. Wells assures us that this is not the case of the Invisible King. Mr. Wells will scarcely deny that if it were possible to compress his mythology and merge his Invisible King in his Veiled Being, the result would be a great simplification of the problem. But this is not, in fact, possible; for it would mean the positing of an all-good and all-powerful Creator, which is precisely the idea which Mr. Wells rebels against,[1] in common with every one who realizes the facts of life and the meaning of words. Short of this, however, is no other simplification possible? Would it not greatly clarify our thought if we could bring the Invisible King into action, not, indeed, as the creator of all things, but as the organizer and director of the surprising and almost incredible epiphenomenon which we call life? Our scheme would then take this shape: an inconceivable unity behind the veil, somehow manifesting itself, where it comes within our ken, in the dual form of a great Artificer and a mass of terribly recalcitrant matter--the only medium in which he can work. In other words, the Veiled Being would be as inscrutable as ever, but the Invisible King, instead of dropping in with a certain air of futility, like a doctor arriving too late at the scene of a railway accident, would be placed at the beginning, not of the universe at large, but of the atomic re-arrangements from which consciousness has sprung. Can we, on this hypothesis (which is practically that of Manichæanism) hazard any guess at the motives or forces actuating the Invisible King,--or, to avoid confusion, let us say the Artificer--which should acquit him of the charge of being a callous and mischievous demon rather than a well-willing God? Can we not only place pain and evil (a tautology) to the account of sluggish, refractory matter, but also conjecture a sufficient reason why the Artificer should have started the painful evolution of consciousness, instead of leaving the atoms to whirl insentiently in the figures imposed on them by the stupendous mathematician behind the veil? [1] In _Mr. Britling Sees It Through_, which is in some sense a prologue to _God the Invisible King_, we find an emphatic renunciation of the all-good and all-powerful God. "The theologians," says Mr. Britling, "have been extravagant about God. They have had silly, absolute ideas--that he is all powerful. That he's omni-everything.... Why! if I thought there was an omnipotent God who looked down on battles and deaths and all the waste and horror of this war--able to prevent these things--doing them to amuse himself--I would spit in his empty face" (p. 406). A complete answer to this question would be a complete solution of the riddle of existence. That, if it be ever attainable, is certainly far enough off. But there are some considerations, not always sufficiently present to our minds, which may perhaps help us, not to a solution, but to a rational restatement, of the riddle. It is possible to suppose, in the first place, that the Artificer, though entirely well-meaning, was not a free agent. We can construct a myth in which an Elder Power should announce to a Younger Power his intention of setting a number of sentient puppets dancing for his amusement, and regaling himself with the spectacle of their antics, in utter heedlessness of the agonies they must endure, which would, indeed, lend an additional savor to the diversion. This Elder Power, with the "sportsman's" preference for pigeons as against clay balls, would be something like the God of Mr. Thomas Hardy. Then we can imagine the Younger Power, after a vain protest demanding, as it were, the vice-royalty of the new kingdom, in order that he might shape its polity to high and noble ends, educe from tragic imperfection some approach to perfection, and, in short, make the best of a bad business. We should thus have (let us say) Marcus Aurelius claiming a proconsulate under Nero, and, with very limited powers, gradually substituting order and humanity for oppression and rapine. This fairy-tale is not unlike Mr. Wells's; but I submit that it has the advantage of placing the Invisible King, or his equivalent, in a conceivable relation to the whole mundane process. Now let us proceed to the alternative hypothesis. Let us suppose that the Artificer was a free agent, and that he voluntarily, and in full view of the consequences, engineered the conjunction of atoms from which consciousness arose. He could have let it alone, he could have suffered life to remain an abortive, slumbering potentiality, like the fire in a piece of flint; yet he deliberately clashed the flint and steel and kindled the torch which was to be handed on, not only from generation to generation, but from species to species, through all the stages of a toilsome, slaughterous, immeasurable ascent. If we accept this hypothesis, can we acquit the Artificer of wanton cruelty? Can we view his action with approval, even with gratitude? Or must we, like Mr. Wells, if we wish to find an outlet for religious emotion, postulate another, subsequent, intermeddling Power--like, say, an American consul at the scene of the Turkish massacre--wholly guiltless of the disaster of life, and doing his little best to mitigate and remedy it? In the present state of our knowledge, it is certainly very difficult to see how the kindler of the _vitai lampada_, supposing him to have been responsible for his actions, can claim from a jury of human beings a verdict of absolute acquittal. But we can, even now, see certain extenuating circumstances, which evidence not yet available may one day so powerfully reinforce as to enable him to leave the Court without a stain on his character. For one thing, we are too much impressed and oppressed by the ideas of magnitude and multitude. Since we have realized the unspeakable insignificance of the earth in relation to the unimaginable vastness of star-sown space, we have come to feel such a disproportion between the mechanism of life and its upshot, as known in our own experience, that we have a vague sense of maleficence, or at any rate of brutal carelessness, in the responsible Power, whoever that may be. "What is it all," we say, "but a trouble of ants in the gleam of a million million of suns?" We feel like insects whom the foot of a heedless giant may at any moment crush. We dream of the swish of a comet's tail wiping out organic life on the planet, and we see, as a matter of fact, great natural convulsions, such as the earthquake of Lisbon or the eruption of Mont Pélée, treating human communities just as an elephant might treat an ant-hill. It is this sense of the immeasurable disproportion in things that a pessimist poet has expressed in the well-known sonnet:-- Know you, my friend, the sudden ecstasy Of thought that time and space annihilates, Creation in a moment uncreates, And whirls the mind, from secular habit free, Beyond the spheres, beyond infinity, Beyond the empery of the eternal Fates, To where the Inconceivable ruminates, The unthinkable "To be or not to be?" Then, as Existence flickers into sight, A marsh-flame in the night of Nothingness-- The great, soft, restful, dreamless, fathomless night-- We know the Affirmative the primal curse, And loathe, with all its imbecile strain and stress, This ostentatious, vulgar Universe. The mood here recorded is one that must be familiar to most thinking people. "The undevout astronomer is mad," said eighteenth-century deism: to-day we are more apt to think that the uncritical astronomer is dense. There is a sort of colossal stupidity about the stars in their courses that overpowers and disquiets us. If (as Alfred Russel Wallace has argued) the geocentric theory was not so far out after all, and the earth, holding a specially favored place in the universe, is the only home of life, then the disproportion of mechanism to result seems absolutely appalling. If, on the other hand, all the million million of suns are pouring out vital heat to a like number of inhabited planetary systems, the sheer quantity of life, of struggle, of suffering implied, seems a thought at which to shudder. We are inclined to say to the inventor of sentience: "Since this ingenious combination of yours was at best such a questionable boon, surely you might have been content with one experiment." But all such criticism rests upon a fallacy, or rather a brace of interrelated fallacies. There can be no disproportion between consciousness and the unconscious, because they are absolutely incommensurable; and number, in relation to consciousness, is an illusion. Consciousness, wherever it exists, is single, indivisible, inextensible; and other consciousnesses, and the whole external universe, are, to the individual percipient, but shapes in a more or less protracted dream. Why should we trouble about vastness--mere extension in space? There is a sense in which the infinitesimally small is more marvellous, more disquieting, than the infinitely great. The ant, the flea, nay, the phagocyte in our blood, is really a more startling phenomenon than all the mechanics and chemistry of the heavens. In worrying about the bigness and the littleness of things, we are making the human body our standard--the body whose dimensions are no doubt determined by convenience in relation to terrestrial conditions, but have otherwise no sort of sanctity or superiority, rightness or fitness. It happens to be the object to which is attached the highest form of consciousness we know; but consciousness itself has neither parts nor magnitude. And consciousness itself is essentially greater than the very vastness which appals us, seeing that it embraces and envelops it. Enormous depths of space are pictured in my brain, through my optic nerve; and what eludes the magic mirror of my retina, my mind can conceive, apprehend, make its own. It is not even true to say that the mind cannot conceive infinity--the real truth (if I may for once be Chestertonian), the real truth is that it can conceive nothing else. "When Berkeley said there was no matter"--it mattered greatly what he said. Nothing can be more certain than that, apart from percipience, there is no matter that matters. From the point of view of pantheism (the only logical theism) God, far from being a Veiled Being, or an Invisible King, is precisely the mind which translates itself into the visible, sensible universe, and impresses itself, in the form of a never-ending pageant, upon our cognate minds. It has been thought that human consciousness may have come into being because God wanted an audience. He was tired of being a cinematograph-film unreeling before empty benches. Some people have even carried the speculation further, and wondered whether the attachment of percipience to organized matter, as in the case of human beings, may not be a necessary stage in the culture of a pure percipience, capable of furnishing the pageant of the universe with a permanent and appreciative audience. In that case the Scottish Catechism would be justified, which asks "What is the chief end of man?" and answers (as Stevenson says) nobly if obscurely: "To glorify God and to enjoy Him forever." But enough of these idle fantasies. What is certain is that we can hold up our heads serenely among the immensities, knowing that we are immenser than they. Even if they were malevolent--and that they do not seem to be--they are no more terrible than the familiar dangers of our homely earth. They cannot hurt us more than we can be hurt--an obvious truism but one which is often overlooked. And this brings us to the consideration of the second fallacy which sometimes warps our judgment as to the responsibility of the Power which invented life. We are all apt to speak and think as though sentience were an article capable of accumulation, like money or merchandise, in enormous aggregates--as though pleasure, and more particularly pain, were subject to the ordinary rules of arithmetic, so that minor quantities, added together, might mount up to an indefinitely gigantic total. Poets and philosophers, time out of mind, have been heartbroken over the enormous mass of evil in the world, and have spoken as though animated nature were one great organism, with a brain in which every pang that afflicted each one of its innumerable members was piled up into a huge, pyramidal agony. But this is obviously not so. That very "individuation" which to some philosophies is the primal curse--the condition by all means to be annulled and shaken off[2]--forbids the adding up of units of sentience. If "individuation" is the source of human misery (which seems a rather meaningless proposition) it is beyond all doubt its boundary and limit. We are each of us his own universe. With each of us the universe is born afresh; with each of us it dies--assuming, that is to say, that consciousness is extinguished at death. There never has been and never can be in the world more suffering than a single organism can sustain--which is another way of saying that nothing can hurt us more than we can be hurt. Is this an optimistic statement? Far from it. The individual is capable of great extremities of suffering; and though not all men, or even most, are put to the utmost test in this respect, there are certainly cases not a few in which a man may well curse the day he was born, and see in the universe that was born with him nothing but an instrument of torture. But such an one must speak for himself. It is evident that, take them all round, men accept life as no such evil gift. It cannot even be said that, in handing it on to others, they are driven by a fatal instinct which they know in their hearts to be cruel, and would resist if they could. The vast majority have been, and still are, entirely light-hearted about the matter, thus giving the best possible proof that they cherish no grudge against the source of being, but find it, on the balance, acceptable enough. If it be said that this is due to stupidity, then stupidity is one of the factors in the case which the great Artificer must be supposed to have foreseen and reckoned upon. All these considerations must be taken into account when we try to sum up the responsibility of an organizer and director of life, acting of his own free will, although he knew that the conditions under which he had to work would make the achievement of any satisfactory result a slow, laborious and painful business. [2] Mr. Wells himself is not far from this view. See _God the Invisible King_, pp. 73, 76, and this book, pp. 39-40. "But sympathy!" it may be said--"You have left sympathy out of the reckoning. Unless we are not only 'individuals' but iron-clad egotists, we suffer with others more keenly, sometimes, than in our own persons." Sympathy, no doubt, is, like the summer sun and the frost of winter, a fact of common experience causing us alternate joy and pain; but it means no sort of breach in the wall of "individuation." Our nearest and dearest are simply factors in our environment, most influential factors, but as external to us as the trees or the stars. We cannot, in any real sense, draw away their pains and add them to our own, any more than they, in their turn, can relieve us of our toothache or our sciatica. They are the points, doubtless, at which our environment touches us most closely, but neither incantation nor Act of Parliament, neither priest nor registrar, can make even man and wife really "one flesh." It was necessary for the conservation of the species that a strict limit should be set to the operation of sympathy. Had that emotion been able to pierce the shell of individuality, so that one being could actually add the sufferings of another, or of many others, to his own, life would long ago have come to an end. As it is, sympathy implies an imaginative extension of individuality, which is of enormous social value. But we remain, none the less, isolated each in his own universe, and our fellow-men and women are but shapes in the panorama, the strange, fantastic dream, which the Veiled Showman unrolls before us. In these post-Darwinian days, moreover, we are inclined to give way to certain morbid and sentimental exaggerations of sympathy, which do some injustice to the great Artificer whom we are for the moment assuming to be responsible for sentient life. Many of us are much concerned about "nature, red in tooth and claw." It is a sort of nightmare to us to think of the tremendous fecundity of swamp and jungle, warren and pond, and of the ruthless struggle for existence which has made earth, air, and sea one mighty battle-ground. In this we are again letting the fallacy of number take hold of us. There can be no aggregate of suffering among lower, any more than among higher, organisms; and the amount of pain which individual animals have to endure--even animals of those species which we can suppose to possess a certain keenness of sensibility--is probably, in the vast majority of cases, very trifling. Half the anguish of humanity proceeds from the power of looking before and after. The animal, though he may suffer from fear of imminent, visible danger, cannot know the torture of long-drawn apprehension. For most of his life he is probably aware of a vague well-being; then of a longer or shorter--often a very short--spell of vague ill-being; and so, the end. Nor is it possible to doubt that the experience of some animals includes a great deal of positive rapture. If the lark be not really the soul of joy, he is the greatest hypocrite under the sun. Many insects seem to be pin-points of vibrant vitality which we can scarcely believe to be unaccompanied by pleasurable sensation. The mosquito which I squash on the back of my hand, and which dies in a bath of my own blood, has had a short life but doubtless a merry one. The moths which, in a tropic night, lie in calcined heaps around the lamp, have probably perished in pursuit of some ecstatic illusion. It does not seem, on the whole, that we need expend much pity on the brute creation, or make its destinies a reproach to the great Artificer. Which is not to say, of course, that we ought not to detest and try with all our might to abolish the cruelties of labor, commerce, sport and war. Again, as to the great calamities--the earthquakes, shipwrecks, railway accidents, even the wars--which are often made a leading count in the arraignment of the Author of Sentience, we must not let ourselves be deceived by the fallacy of number. Their spectacular, dramatic aspect naturally attracts attention; but the death-roll of a great shipwreck is in fact scarcely more terrible than the daily bills of mortality of a great city. It is true that a violent death, overtaking a healthy man, is apt to involve moments, perhaps hours, of acute distress which he might have escaped had he died of gradual decay or of ordinary well-tended disease; and a very short space of the agony sometimes attendant upon (say) a railway accident, probably represents itself to the sufferer as an eternity. But there is also another side to the matter. Instantaneous death in a great catastrophe must be reckoned as mere euthanasia; and even short of this, the attendant excitement has often the effect of an anodyne. In the upshot, no doubt, such occurrences are rightly called disasters, since their tendency is to cause needlessly painful death, under circumstances, which in the main, enhance its terrors; but the sufferings of the victims cannot be added together because they occur within a limited area, any more than if they had been spread over an indefinite tract of space. As for war, it increases the liability of every individual who comes within its wide-flung net to intense bodily and mental suffering, and to premature and painful death. Moreover, it destroys social values which _can_ be added up. In this respect it leaves the world face to face with an appalling deficit. But we must not let it weigh upon us too heavily, or make it too great a reproach to the Artificer of human destiny. For the soldier, like every other sentient organism, is immured in his own universe, and his individual debit-and-credit account with the Power which placed him there would be no whit different if he were indeed the only real existence, and the world around him were naught but a dance of shadows. If there were a country of a hundred million people, in which every citizen was born to an allowance of five pounds, which in all his life he could not possibly increase, or invest in joint-stock enterprises, though he might leave some of it unexpended--we should not, in spite of the £500,000,000 of its capital, call that a wealthy country. Its effective wealth would be precisely a five-pound note. Similarly, given a world in which every one is born with a limited capacity of sentience, inalienable, incommunicable, unique, we should do wrong to call that world a multi-millionaire in misery, even if it could be proved that in each individual account the balance of sensation was on the wrong side of the ledger. It is true that if, in one man's account, the balance were largely to the bad, he would be entitled to reproach the Veiled Banker, even though five hundred or five thousand of his fellows declared themselves satisfied with the result of their audit. But if the Banker, in opening business, had good reason to think that, in the long run, the contents would largely outvote the non-contents, we could scarcely blame him for going ahead. And what if, for contents and malcontents alike, he had an uncovenanted bonus up his sleeve? * * * * * In this disquisition, with its shifting personifications, its Artificer, Author, Banker and the like, we may seem to have wandered far away from Mr. Wells and his Invisible King; but I hope the reader has not wholly lost the clue. Let us recapitulate. Starting from the idea that its total renunciation of metaphysics, its incuriousness as to causation, was a weakness in Mr. Wells's system, inasmuch as an eager curiosity as to these matters is an inseparable part of our intellectual outfit, we set about enquiring whether it might not be possible to abandon the notions of omnipotence, omniscience and omni-benevolence, and yet to conceive a doctrine of origins into which a well-willing God should enter, not, like the Invisible King, as a sort of remedial afterthought, but as a prime mover in this baffling business of life. We put forward two hypotheses, each of which seemed more thinkable, less in the air, so to speak, than Mr. Wells's scheme of things. We imagined a wholly callous, unpitying Power, wantonly setting up combinations in matter which it knew would work out in cruelty and misery, and another co-ordinate though not quite equal Power interfering from the first to introduce into the combinations of the Elder Deity a slow but sure bias towards the good. Then we proposed an alternative hypothesis, logically simpler, though more difficult from the moral point of view. We conceived at the source of organic life an intelligent and well-willing Power constrained, by some necessity "behind the veil," to carry out his purposes through the sluggish, refractory, hampering medium of matter. Supposing this Power free to act or to refrain from acting, we asked whether he could take the affirmative course--choose the "Everlasting Yea" as Carlyle would phrase it--without forfeiting our esteem and disqualifying for the post of Invisible King in the Wellsian sense of the term. In a tentative way, not exempt, perhaps, from a touch of special pleading, we advanced certain considerations which seemed to suggest that his decision to kindle the torch of life might, after all, be justified. Our provisional conclusion was that though, as at present advised, we might not quite see our way to hail him as a beneficent Invisible King, yet we need not go to the opposite extreme of writing him down a mere Ogre God, indifferent to the vast and purposeless process of groaning and travail, begetting and devouring, which he had wantonly initiated. That is the point at which we have now arrived. I hope it need not be said I do not attribute any substantive value to the hypothetical myths here put forward and discussed--that I do not accept either of them, or propose that anyone else should accept it, as a probable adumbration of what actually occurred "in the beginning"--a first chapter in a new Book of Genesis. My purpose was simply, since myth-making was the order of the day, to hint a criticism of Mr. Wells's myth, by placing beside it one or two other fantasies, perhaps as plausible as his, which had the advantage of not entirely eluding the question of origins. I submit, with great respect, that my Artificer comes a little less out of the blue than his Invisible King--that is all I claim for him. But here Mr. Wells puts in a protest, not without indignation. Myth-making, he declares, is _not_ the order of the day. Had he wanted to indulge in myth-making, he could easily have found some metaphysical affiliation for his Invisible King. What he has done is to record a profound spiritual experience, common to himself and many other good men and true, which has culminated in the recognition of an actual Power, objectively extant in the world, to which he has felt it a sacred duty to bear witness. Very good; so be it; let us now look more in detail into the gospel according to Wells. IV THE APOSTLE'S CREED A gospel it is, in all literalness; an evangel; a message of glad tidings. It is not merely _a_ truth, it is "the Truth" (p. 1). Let there be no mistake about it: Mr. Wells's ambition is to rank with St. Paul and Mahomet, as the apostle of a new world-religion. He does not in so many words lay claim to inspiration, but it is almost inevitably deducible from his premises. He is uttering the first clear and definite tidings of a God who is endowed with personality, character, will and purpose. To that Deity he has submitted himself in enthusiastic devotion. If the God does not seize the opportunity to speak through such a marvellously suitable, such an ideal, mouthpiece, then practical common-sense cannot be one of his attributes. Which of the other Gods who have announced themselves from time to time has found such a megaphone to reverberate his voice? St. Paul was a poor tent-maker, whose sermons were not even reported in the religious press, while his letters probably counted their public by scores, or at most by hundreds. Mr. Wells, from the outset of his mission, has the ear of two hemispheres. What, then, does he tell us of his God? The first characteristic which differentiates him from all the other Gods with a big G--for of course we pay no heed to the departmental gods of polytheism--the first fact we must grasp and hold fast to, is that he lays no claim to infinity. "This new faith ... worships _a finite God_" (p. 5; Mr. Wells's italics). "He has begun and he never will end" (p. 18). "He is within time and not outside it" (p. 7). Nothing can be more definite than that. There was a time when God did not exist; and then somehow, somewhen, he came into being. Perhaps to ask "When?" would be to trespass on the department of origins, from which we are explicitly warned off. It would be to trench upon "cosmogony." Yet we are not quite without guidance. "The renascent religion," we are told, "has always been here; it has always been visible to those that had eyes to see" (p. 1). "Always," in this context, can only mean during the whole course of human history. Therefore God must have come into being some time between the issue of the creative fiat and the appearance of man on the planet. This is a pretty wide margin, but it is something to go upon. He may have been contemporary with the amoeba, or with the ichthyosaurus, or haply with the earliest quadrumana. At the very latest (if "always" is accurate) he must have made his appearance exactly at the same time as man; and if I were to give my opinion, I should say that was extremely probable. At all events, even if he preceded man by a few thousand or million years, we are compelled to assume that he came in preparation for the advent of the human species, determined to be on hand when wanted. For we do not gather that the lower animals stand in need of his services, or are capable of benefiting by them. One might be tempted to conceive him as guiding the course of evolution and hastening its laggard process; but (as we shall see) he scorns the rôle of Providence, and resolutely abstains from any intromission in organic or meteorological concerns. It would be pleasant to think that he had something to do with (for instance) the retreat of the ice-cap in the northern hemisphere; but we are not encouraged to indulge in any such speculation. It would appear that the activity of God is purely psychical and moral--that he has no interest in biology, except as it influences, and is influenced by, sociology. In short, from all that one can make out, this God is strictly correlative to Man; and that is a significant fact which we shall do well to bear in mind. As we have already seen, the Infinite (or Veiled) Being is not God (p. 13); nor is God the Life Force, the "impulse thrusting through matter and clothing itself in continually changing material forms ... the Will to Be" (pp. 15-16). As we have also seen, Mr. Wells refuses to define the relation of his God, this "spirit," this "single spirit and single person," to either of these inscrutable entities. "God," he says, "comes to us neither out of the stars nor out of the pride of life, but as a still small voice within" (p. 18). It is by "faith" that we "find" him (p. 13); but Mr. Wells "doubts if faith can be complete and enduring if it is not secured by the definite knowledge of the true God" (p. 135). What, then, is "faith" in this context? It would be too much to say, with the legendary schoolboy, that it is "believing what you know isn't true." The implication seems rather to be that if you begin by believing on inadequate grounds, you will presently attain to belief on adequate grounds, or, in other words, knowledge. Thus, when you go to a spiritual séance in a sceptical frame of mind, the chill of your aura frightens the spirits away, and you obtain no manifestations; but if you go in a mood of faith, which practically means confident expectation, the phenomena follow, and you depart a convert. I use this illustration in no scoffing spirit. The presupposition is not irrational. It amounts, in effect, to saying that you must go some way to meet God before God can or will come to you. This seems a curious coyness; but as God is finite and conditioned, a bit of a character ("a strongly marked and knowable personality," p. 5), there is nothing contradictory in it. Even when we read that "the true God goes through the world like fifes and drums and flags, calling for recruits along the street" (p. 40), we must not seize upon the letter of a similitude, and talk about inconsistency. You must go out to meet even the Salvation Army. It offers you salvation in vain if you obstinately bolt your door, and insist that an Englishman's house is his castle. The finding of this God is very like what revivalists call "conversion" (p. 21). You are oppressed by "the futility of the individual life"; you fall into "a state of helpless self-disgust" (p. 21); you are, in short, in the condition described by Hamlet when he says: "It goes so heavily with my disposition that this goodly frame the earth seems to me a sterile promontory; this most excellent canopy the air, look you, this brave o'erhanging firmament, this majestical roof fretted with golden fire, why it appears no other thing to me but a foul and pestilent congregation of vapors." The condition may result, as in Hamlet's case, from an untoward conjunction of outward circumstances; or it may be of physiological (liverish) origin. The methods of treatment are many--some of them (such as the administration of alcohol in large doses) disastrously unwise. In some states of society and periods of history, religion is the popular specific; and there have been, and are, forms of religion to which alcohol would be preferable. Fortunately, one can say without a shadow of hesitancy that "the modern religion" lies under no such suspicion. As dispensed by Mr. Wells, it is entirely wholesome. If it is found to cheer, it will certainly not inebriate. Indeed, the doubt one feels as to its popular success lies in the very fact that it contains but an innocuous proportion of alcohol. You find yourself, then, in the distressful case described by Hamlet and Mr. Wells. "Man delights you not, no, nor woman neither." You cannot muster up energy even to kill King Claudius. You go about gloomily soliloquizing on suicide and kindred topics. Then, "in some way the idea of God comes into the distressed mind" (p. 21). It develops through various stages, outlined by Mr. Wells in the passage cited. In the modern man, it would seem, one great difficulty lies in "a curious resistance to the suggestion that God is truly a person" (p. 22). It is here, no doubt, that faith comes in; at all events, you ultimately get over this stumbling-block. "Then suddenly, in a little while, in his own time, God comes. The cardinal experience is an undoubting immediate sense of God. It is the attainment of an absolute certainty that one is not alone in oneself" (p. 23). You have come, in fact, to the gate of Damascus. You have found salvation. Yes, salvation!--there is no other word for it. Mr. Wells does not hesitate to use both that word and its correlative, damnation. From what, then, are you saved? Why, from quite a number of things. You are saved "from the purposelessness of life" (p. 18). God's immortality has "taken the sting from death" (p. 22). You have escaped "from the painful accidents and chagrins of individuation" (p. 73). "Salvation is to lose oneself" (p. 73); it is "a complete turning away from self" (p. 84). "Damnation is really over-individuation, and salvation is escape from self into the larger being of life" (p. 76). In another place we are told that salvation is "escape from the individual distress at disharmony and the individual defeat by death, into the Kingdom of God, and damnation can be nothing more and nothing less than the failure or inability or disinclination to make that escape" (p. 148). On the next page we have another definition of damnation (borrowed, it would seem, from Mr. Clutton Brock), with which I hasten to express my cordial and enthusiastic agreement: "_Satisfaction with existing things is damnation._" I have always thought that hell was the headquarters of conservatism, and am delighted to find such influential backing for that pious opinion. As for sin, it seems to be a falling away from the state of grace attained through conversion. You can and do sin while you are still unconverted; for we are told that "repentance is the beginning and essential of the religious life" (p. 165). Probably (though this is not clear) your unregenerate condition is in itself sinful, "individuation" being not very different from the Original Sin of the theologians. But it is sin after regeneration that really matters. "Salvation leaves us still disharmonious, and adds not one inch to our spiritual and moral nature" (p. 146). "It is the amazing and distressful discovery of every believer so soon as the first exaltation of belief is past, that one does not remain always in touch with God" (p. 149). One backslides. One reverts to one's unregenerate type. The old Adam makes disquieting resurgences in the swept and garnished mansion from which he seemed to have been for ever cast out. "This is the personal problem of Sin. _Here prayer avails; here God can help us_" (p. 150). And what is still more consoling, "though you sin seventy times seven times, God will still forgive the poor rest of you.... There is no sin, no state that, being regretted and repented of, can stand between God and man" (p. 156). We shall have to consider later what useful purpose (if any) is served by this free-and-easy use of the dialect of revivalism. In the meantime, one would be sorry to seem to write without respect of the depth of conviction which Mr. Wells throws into his account of the supreme spiritual experience of finding God. "Thereafter," he says, "one goes about the world like one who was lonely and has found a lover, like one who was perplexed and has found a solution" (pp. 23-24). God is a "huge friendliness, a great brother and leader of our little beings" (p. 24). "He is a stimulant; he makes us live immortally and more abundantly. I have compared him to the sensation of a dear strong friend who comes and stands quietly beside one, shoulder to shoulder" (p. 39). It certainly takes some courage for a modern Englishman, not by profession a licensed dealer in spiritual sentimentality, to write like this. And now comes the question, What does God do? What does he aim at? And how does he effect his purposes? The answer seems to be that, in a literal, tangible sense, he does nothing. He operates solely in and through the mind of man; and even through the mind of man he does not influence external events. This, it may be said, is impossible, since all those external events which we call human conduct flow from the mind of man. Perhaps it would be correct to say (for here Mr. Wells gives us no explicit guidance) that external events are only a by-product of the influence of God: that, having begotten a certain spiritual state which he feels to be generally desirable, he takes no responsibility for the particular consequences that are likely to flow from it. So, at least, one can best interpret Mr. Wells's repeated disclaimer of the idea that "God is Magic or God is Providence" (p. 27), that "all the time, incalculably, he is pulling about the order of events for our personal advantages" (p. 35-6). Commenting on Mr. Edwyn Bevan's phrase for God, "the Friend behind phenomena," Mr. Wells insists that the expression "carries with it no obligation whatever to believe that this Friend is in control of the phenomena" (p. 87). Perhaps not; but it is a question for after consideration whether lucidity is promoted by giving the name God to a Power which has no power--which does not seem even to make directly purposive use of the influence which it possesses over the minds of believers. Once, in a coasting steamer on the Pacific, I nearly died of sea-sickness. A friend was with me, the soul of kindness, such a lovable old man that I write this down partly for the pleasure of recalling him. He used to come to my cabin every hour or so, shake his head mournfully, and go away again. I felt his good will and was grateful for it; but it would be affectation to pretend that I would not have been still more grateful had he possessed some "control of phenomena"--had he brought with him a remedy. Since those days, more than one efficacious preventive of sea-sickness has been discovered; and I own to counting the nameless chemists who have achieved this marvel among the most authentic friends to poor humanity of whom we have any knowledge. Where is the God (as Mr. Zangwill has pertinently enquired) who will give us a cure for cancer? This, however, is a digression, or at any rate an anticipation. What the Invisible King actually does, without meddling with phenomena, is to assume the "captaincy" of the "racial adventure" in which we are engaged (p. 76). "God must love his followers as a great captain loves his men ... whose faith alone makes him possible. It is an austere love. The Spirit of God will not hesitate to send us to torment and bodily death" (p. 67). And what is this "racial adventure"? It is, in the first place, the achievement of Mr. Wells's political ideals--an object which has all my sympathy, since they happen to be, generally speaking, my own. "As a knight in God's service," says Mr. Wells, "I take sides against injustice, disorder, and against all those temporal kings, emperors, princes, landlords, and owners, who set themselves up against God's rule and worship" (p. 97). By all means! Only one does not see how, if the kings, emperors and landlords declare that they, too, have found God, and found him on the side of monarchy and landlordism, this contention of theirs is to be confuted. If God does not control phenomena, the actual controllers of events will be able to maintain in the future, as in the past, that he is on the side of the big battalions--an argument which it will be hard to meet, except by raising bigger battalions. In the meantime we have to note that God's political opinions are only provisional, and that he himself is open to conviction. "The first purpose of God is the attainment of clear knowledge, of knowledge as a means to more knowledge, and of knowledge as a means to power" (p. 98-9). And the object to which he will apply this power is "the conquest of death: first the overcoming of death in the individual by the incorporation of the motives of his life into an undying purpose, and then the defeat of that death which seems to threaten our species upon a cooling planet beneath a cooling sun" (p. 99). Ultimately, then, it would seem that God does intend to undertake the control of phenomena. Dealing with ice-caps is not so entirely outside his province as one had hastily assumed. The Invisible King is not, after all, a _roi fainéant_. He will begin to do things as soon as he knows how: any other course would be obviously rash. One would like to live a few hundred thousand years, to see him come into overt action. Yet, in this far-reaching program, there seems to lurk a certain contradiction, or at least an ambiguity. If, for the believer in God, death has, here and now, lost its sting--if "we come staggering through into the golden light of his kingdom, to fight for his kingdom henceforth, until, at last, we are altogether taken up into his being" (p. 68)--one does not quite see the reason for this long campaign against death. Surely the logical consummation would be an ultimate racial euthanasia, an absorption of humanity into God, a vast apotheosis-nirvana, after which the earth and sun could go on cooling at their leisure. * * * * * Apart from one or two irrepressible "asides," I have attempted in this chapter to let Mr. Wells speak for himself, proclaim the faith that is in him, and draw the portrait of his God. Many details are of course omitted, for which the reader must turn to the original text. He will find it a pleasant and profitable task. The remainder of my present undertaking falls into three parts. First I must ask the reader to consider with me whether Mr. Wells's gospel can be accepted as a real addition to knowledge, like (say) the discovery of radium, or whether it is only a re-description in new language (or old language slightly refurbished) of familiar facts of spiritual experience. In the second place, assuming that we have to fall back on the latter alternative, we shall enquire whether anything would be gained by the general acceptance of this new-old, highly emotionalized terminology. Thirdly, I shall venture to suggest that when Mr. Wells says "The first purpose of God is the attainment of clear knowledge, of knowledge as a means to more knowledge, and of knowledge as a means to power," he is only choosing a mythological way of expressing the fact that if God (in the ordinary, non-Wellsian sense of the word) is ever to be found, it must be through patient investigation of the phenomena in which he clothes himself. V WHEN IS A GOD NOT A GOD? Though many of Mr. Wells's asseverations of the substantive reality of his Invisible King have been quoted above, it would be easy to lengthen their array. There is nothing on which he is so insistent. For example, "God is no abstraction nor trick of words....[3] He is as real as a bayonet thrust or an embrace" (p. 56). And again, on the same page: "He feels us and knows us; he is helped and gladdened by us. He hopes and attempts." There is no limit to the anthropomorphism of the language which Mr. Wells currently employs. Or rather, there is only one limit: he disclaims the notion that his God is actually existent in space, that he has parts and dimensions, and inhabits a form in any way analogous to ours. He is the Invisible King, not merely, like the Spanish Fleet, because he "is not yet in sight," but because he has no material or "astral" integument. Being outside space (though inside time) he can be omnipresent (p. 61). But of course Mr. Wells would not pretend that no deity can be called anthropomorphic who is not actually conceived as incarnate in the visible figure of a man. An anthropomorphic God is one who reflects the mental characteristics of his worshippers; and that Mr. Wells's God does, if ever God did in this world. [3] The words here omitted, "no Infinite," are nothing to the present purpose. Mr. Wells has started by making this declaration, which we accept without difficulty. No one will suspect the Invisible King of being an "Infinite" in disguise. Yet almost in the same breath in which he is claiming for his God the fullest independent reality--thinking of him "as having moods and aspects, as a man has, and a consistency we call his character" (p. 63)--he will use language implying that he is that very abstraction of the better parts of human nature which has been proposed for worship in all the various "religions of humanity," "ethical churches," and so forth, for two or three generations past. Listen to this: "Though he does not exist in matter or space, he exists in time, just as a current of thought may do; he changes and becomes more even as a man's thought gathers itself together; somewhere in the dawning of mankind he had a beginning, an awakening, and as mankind grows he grows.... _He is the undying human memory, the increasing human will_" (p. 61). When, in the last chapter, I discussed the date of the divinity's birth, I had overlooked this text. Here we have it in black and white that he did not precede mankind--that, of course, would have implied independence--but began with the "dawning" of the race, and has grown with its growth. Moreover, the analogy of a "current of thought" is expressly suggested--reinforcing the suspicion which has all along haunted us that the God of Mr. Wells is nothing else than what is known to less mythopoeic thinkers as a "stream of tendency." But Mr. Wells will by no means have it so. Indeed he evidently regards this as the most annoying, and perhaps damnable, of heresies. On the very next page he proceeds to rule out the suggestion that "God is the collective mind and purpose of the human race." "You may declare," he says, "that this is no God, but merely the sum of mankind. But those who believe in the new ideas very steadfastly deny that. God is, they say, not an aggregate but a synthesis." And he goes on to suggest various analogies: a temple is more than a gathering of stones, a regiment more than an accumulation of men: we do not love the soil of our back garden, or the chalk of Kent, or the limestone of Yorkshire; yet we love England, which is made up of these things. So God is more than the sum or essence of the nobler impulses of the race: he is a spirit, a person, a friend, a great brother, a captain, a king: he "is love and goodness" (p 80); and without him the Service of Man is "no better than a hobby, a sentimentality or a hypocrisy" (p. 95). Let us reflect a little upon these analogies, and see whether they rest on any solid basis. Why is a temple more than a heap of stones? Because human intelligence and skill have entered into the stones and organized them to serve a given purpose or set of purposes: to delight the eye, to elevate the mind, to express certain ideas, to afford shelter for worshippers against wind, rain and sun. Why is a regiment more than a mob? Again because it has been deliberately and elaborately organized to fulfil certain functions. Why is England more than the mere rocks of which it is composed? Because these materials have been grouped, partly by nature, but very largely by the labor of untold generations of our fathers, into forms which give pleasure to the eye and appeal to our most intimate and cherished associations. Besides, when we speak of "England," we do not think only or mainly of its physical aspects. We think of it as a great community, with an ancient, and in some ways admirable, tradition of political life, with a splendid record of achievement in both material and spiritual things, with a great past, and (we hope) a greater future. In all these cases the parts have been fused into a whole by human effort, either consciously or instinctively applied; and it is in virtue of this effort alone that the whole transcends its parts. But in the case of a God "synthetized" out of the thought and feeling of untold generations of men, the analogy breaks down at every point. To assume that portions of psychic experience are capable of vital coalescence, is to beg the whole question. We know that stone can be piled on stone, that men can be trained to form a platoon, a cohort, a phalanx; but that detached fragments of mind are capable of any sort of cohesion and organization we do not know at all. And, even if this point could be granted, where is the organizing power? We should have to postulate another God to serve as the architect or the drill-sergeant of our synthetic divinity. Nor would it help matters to suggest that the God (as it were) crystallized himself; for that is to assume structural potentialities in his component parts which must have come from somewhere, so that again we have to presuppose another God. It is true, no doubt, that portions of thought and feeling can be collected, arranged, edited, in some sense organized, by human effort; but the result is an encyclopædia, a thesaurus, an anthology, a liturgy, a bible--not a God. It may, like the Vedas, the Hebrew Scriptures and the Koran, become an object of idolatry; but even its idolaters see in it only an emanation from God, not the God himself. All this argument may strike the reader as extremely nebulous, but I submit that the fault is not mine. It was not I who sought to demonstrate the reality of a figure of speech by placing it on all fours with a cathedral and a regiment. The whole contention is so baffling that reason staggers and flounders as in a quicksand. It rests upon a mixture of categories, as palpable and yet as elusive as anything in _The Hunting of the Snark_. If you tell me that Public Opinion is a God, I am quite willing to consider whether the metaphor is a luminous and helpful one. But if you protest that it is no metaphor at all, but a literal statement of fact, like the statement that Mr. Woodrow Wilson is President of the United States, I no longer know where we are. Mr. Wells's "undying human memory and increasing human will" cannot exactly be identified with Public Opinion, but it belongs to the same order of ideas. Here there is an actual workable analogy. But there is no practicable analogy between a purely mental concept and a physical construction. You will not help me to believe in (say) the doctrine of Original Sin, by assuring me that it is built, like the Tower Bridge, on the cantilever principle. It is quite certain that, if passionate conviction and the free use of anthropomorphic language can make a figure of speech a God, the Invisible King is an individual entity, as detached from Mr. Wells as Michelangelo's Moses from Michelangelo. Paradoxically enough, he has put on "individuation" that his worshippers may escape from it. Mr. Wells's book teems with expressions--I have given many examples of them--which are wholly inapplicable to any metaphor, however galvanized into a semblance of life by ecstatic contemplation in the devotional mind. For example, when we are told that it is doubtful whether "God knows all, or much more than we do, about the ultimate Being," the mere assertion of a doubt implies the possibility of knowledge of a quite different order from any that exists in the human intelligence. Mr. Wells explicitly assures us that knowledge of the Veiled Being is (for the present at any rate) inaccessible to our faculties; but he implies that such knowledge _may_ be possessed by the Invisible King; and as knowledge cannot possibly be a synthesis of ignorances, it follows that the Invisible King has powers of apprehension quite different from, and independent of, any operation of the human brain. These powers may not, as a matter of fact, have solved the enigma of existence; but it is clearly implied that they might conceivably do so; and indeed the text positively asserts that God knows _something_ more of the Veiled Being than we do, though perhaps not "much." In view of this passage, and many others of a like nature, we cannot fall back on the theory that Mr. Wells is merely trying, by dint of highly imaginative writing, to infuse life into a deliberate personification, like Robespierre's Goddess of Reason or Matthew Arnold's Zeitgeist. However difficult it may be, we must accustom ourselves to the belief that his assertions of the personal existence of his God represent the efficient element in his thought, and that if other passages seem inconsistent with that idea--seem to point to mere abstraction or allegorization of the mind of the race--it is these passages, and not the more full-blooded pronouncements, that must be cancelled as misleading or inadequate. There can be no doubt that the God to whom Mr. Wells seeks to convert us is (in his apostle's conception) much more of a President Wilson than of a Zeitgeist. * * * * * It would be possible, of course, for a God, however dubious and even inconceivable the method of his "synthesis," to manifest himself in his effects--to prove his existence by his actions. But this, as we have seen, the Invisible King scorns to do. His adherents, we are told, "advance no proof whatever of the existence of God but their realization of him" (p. 98). There is a sort of implication that the Deity will not descend to vulgar miracle-working. "An evil and adulterous generation seeketh after a sign; and there shall no sign be given to it"--not even "the sign of Jonah the prophet." But to ask for some sort of visible or plausibly conjecturable effect is not at all the same thing as to ask for miracles. Mr. Wells proclaims with all his might that the Invisible King works the most marvellous and beneficent changes in the minds of his devotees; why, then, do these changes produce no recognizable effect on the course of events? The God who can work upon the human mind has the key to the situation in his hands--why, then, does he make such scant use of it? Is God only a luxury for the intellectually wealthy? The champagne of the spiritual life? A stimulant and anodyne highly appreciated in the best circles, but inaccessible to the man of small spiritual means, whether he be a dweller in palaces or in the slums? To say that a given Power can and does potently affect the human mind, and yet cannot, or at least does not, produce any appreciable or demonstrable effect on the external aspects of human life, is like asking us to believe that a man is a heaven-born conductor who can get nothing out of his orchestra but discords and cacophonies. Mr. Wells may perhaps reply that his God _does_ recognizably influence the course of events--indeed, that everything in history which we see to be good and desirable is the work of the Invisible King--but that he does not advance this fact as a proof of God's existence, because it is discernible only to the eye of faith and cannot be brought home to unregenerate reason. I do not imagine that he will take this line, for it would come dangerously near to identifying God with Providence--a heresy which he abhors. But supposing some other adept in "modern religion" were to make this claim on behalf of the Invisible King, would it go any way towards persuading us that we owe him our allegiance? The assumption would be, as I understand it, that of a finite God, unable to modify the operations of matter, but with an unlimited, or at any rate a very great, power of influencing the workings of the human mind. He would have no control over meteorological conditions: he could not "ride in the whirlwind and direct the storm"; he could not subdue the earthquake or prevent the Greenland glacier from "calving" icebergs into the Atlantic. He could not release the human body from the rhythms of growth and decay; he could not eradicate that root of all evil, the association of consciousness with a mechanism requiring to be constantly stoked with a particular sort of fuel which exists only in limited quantities. If God could arrange for life to be maintained on a diet of inorganic substances--if he could enable animals, like plants, to go direct to minerals and gases for their sustenance, instead of having it, so to speak, half-digested in the vegetable kingdom--or even if, under the present system, he could make fecundity, in any given species, automatically proportionate to the supply of food--he would at one stroke refashion earthly life in an extremely desirable sense. But this we assume to be beyond his competence: the Veiled Being has autocratically imposed the struggle for existence as an inexorable condition of the Invisible King's activities, except in so far as it can be eluded by and through the human intelligence. His problem, then, will be to guide the minds of men towards a realization that their higher destiny lies in using their intelligence to substitute ordered co-operation for the sanguinary competition above which merely instinctive organism are incapable of rising. Observe that in exercising this power of psychical influence there would be no sort of miracle-working, no interference with the order of nature. The influence of mind upon mind, even without the intervention of words or other symbols, is a part of the order of nature which no one to-day dreams of questioning. Hypnotic suggestion is a department of orthodox medical practice, and telepathy is more and more widely admitted, if only as a refuge from the hypothesis of survival after death. If, then, we have a divine mind applying itself to the problems of humanity, and capable of suggesting ideas to the mind of man--appealing, as a "still small voice" (p. 18), to his intelligence, his emotions and his will--one cannot but figure its power for good as almost illimitable. What is to prevent it from achieving a very rapid elimination of the ape and the tiger, the Junker and the Tory, and substituting social enthusiasms for individual passions as the motive-power of human conduct? We may admit that the brain of man must first be developed up to a certain point before divine suggestion could effectively work upon it. But we know that men and races of magnificent brainpower must have existed on the planet thousands and thousands of years ago. What, then, has the Invisible King made of his opportunities? Frankly, he has made a terrible hash of them. It is hard to see how the progress of the race could possibly have been slower, more laborious, more painful than in fact it has been. No doubt there have been a few splendid spurts, which we may, if we please, trace to the genial goading of the Invisible King. But all the great movements have dribbled away into frustration and impotence. There was, for example, the glorious intellectual efflorescence of Greece. There, you may say, the Invisible King was almost visibly at work. But, after all, what a flash-in-the-pan it was! Hellas was a little island of light surrounded by gloomy immensities of barbarism; yet, instead of stablishing and fortifying a political cosmos, its leading men had nothing better to do than to plunge into the bloody chaos of the Peloponnesian War, and set back the clock of civilization by untold centuries. What was the Invisible King about when that catastrophe happened? Similarly, the past two centuries, and especially the past seventy-five years, have witnessed a marvellous onrush in man's intellectual apprehension of the universe and mastery over the latent energies of matter. But because moral and political development has lagged hopelessly behind material progress, the world is plunged into a war of unexampled magnitude and almost unexampled fury, wherein the heights of the air and depths of the sea are pressed into the service of slaughter. Where was the Invisible King in July, 1914? Or, for that matter, what has he been doing since July, 1870? "Either he was musing, or he was on a journey, or peradventure he slept." Truly it would seem that he might have advised Mr. Wells to wait for the "Cease fire!" before proclaiming his godhead. Of course Mr. Wells will remind me that he claims for him no material potency; and I must own that no happier moment could have been chosen for the annunciation of an impotent God. But the plea does not quite tally with the facts. In the first place (as we have seen) the Invisible King is _going_ to do things--he is going to do very remarkable things as soon as he knows how. And in the second place it is impossible to conceive that the tremendous psychical influence which is claimed for this God can be exercised without producing external reactions. Why, he is actually stated to be--like another God, his near relative, whom he rather unkindly disowns--he is stated to be "the light of the world" (p. 18). Is there any meaning in such a statement if it be not pertinent to ask what sort of light has led the world into the ghastly quagmire in which it is to-day agonizing? The truth is that Mr. Wells attributes to his God powers which, even if he had no greater knowledge than Mr. Wells himself possesses, could be used to epoch-making advantage. Fancy an omnipresent H. G. Wells, able to speak in a still small voice to all men of good-will throughout the world! What a marvellous revolution might he not effect! Mr. Wells himself has outlined such a revolution in one of his most thoughtful romances, _In the Days of the Comet_. From the fact that it does not occur, may we not fairly suspect that the Invisible King is a creation of the same mythopoeic faculty which engendered the wonder-working comet with its aura of sweet-reasonableness? If we turn to Mr. Britling, we find that that eminent publicist was distressed by a sense of the difficulty of conveying God's message to the world; only he modestly attributed it to defects in his own equipment rather than to powerlessness on the part of God. We read on page 427:--"Never had it been so plain to Mr. Britling that he was a weak, silly, ill-informed and hasty-minded writer, and never had he felt so invincible a conviction that the Spirit of God was in him, and that it fell to him to take some part in the establishment of a new order of living upon the earth.... Always he seemed to be on the verge of some illuminating and beautiful statement of his cause; always he was finding his writing inadequate, a thin treachery to the impulse of his heart." Have we not in such an experience an irrefutable proof of the inefficacy of Mr. Britling's God? Always the world has been all ears for a clear, convincing, compulsive message from God; always, or at any rate for many thousands of years, there have been men who seemed the predestined mouthpieces of such a message; always what purported to be the word of God has proved to be either powerless to make itself heard, or powerful only to the begetting of hideous moral and social corruptions. God spoke (it is said) through the Vedic _rishis_, the sages of the Himalayas--and the result has been caste, cow-worship, suttee, abominations of asceticism, and nameless orgies of sensuality. God spoke through Moses, and the result was--Judaism! God spoke through Jesus, and the result was Arianism and Athanasianism, the Papacy, the Holy Office, the Thirty Years' War, massacres beyond computation, and the slowly calcined flesh of an innumerable army of martyrs. All this, no doubt, was due to gross and palpable misunderstanding of the message delivered through Jesus; but since it was so fatally open to misunderstanding, would it not better have remained undelivered? Could the world have been appreciably worse off without it? The question is rather an idle one, since it turns on "might have beens." That the element of good in the message of Jesus has been to some extent efficient, no one would deny. But the alloy of potential evil has made itself so overpoweringly actual that to strike a balance between the two forces is impossible, and the question is generally decided by throwing a solid chunk of prejudice into one scale or the other. There has never been a time when a really well-informed revelation, uttered with charm and power, might not have revolutionized the world. "A well-informed revelation!" the reader may cry: "What terrible bathos!" Mr. Wells, moreover, speaks slightingly of revelation (pp. 19, 163) in a tone that seems to imply that "modern religion" would have nothing to do with it even if it could. But the demand for a revelation is eminently reasonable and justified; and the only trouble about the historic revelations is that they have all been so shockingly ill-informed, and have revealed nothing to the purpose. Robert Louis Stevenson anticipated Mr. Wells's view of the matter when he wrote ironically:-- It's a simple thing that I demand, Though humble as can be-- A statement fair in my Maker's hand To a gentleman like me-- A clean account, writ fair and broad, And a plain apologee-- Or deevil a ceevil word to God From a gentleman like me. But why this irony? What an infinity of trouble and pain would have been saved if such a "clean account, writ fair and broad," had been vouchsafed, and had been found to tally with the facts! Nor have the reputedly wise and good of this world seen any presumption in desiring such a _communiqué_. Most of them thought they had received it, and many wasted half their lives in attempting to reconcile new knowledge with old ignorance, promulgated under the guarantee of God. I cannot but think that the poet got nearer the heart of the matter who wrote:-- Was Moses upon Sinai taught How Sinai's mighty ribs were wrought? Did Buddha, 'neath the bo-tree's shade, Learn how the stars were poised and swayed? Did Jesus still pain's raging storm, And dower the world with chloroform? Or Mahomet a jehad decree 'Gainst microbe-harboring gnat and flea? Has revelation e'er revealed Aught from its age and hour concealed? Or miracle, since time began, Conferred a single boon on Man? Truly, we may agree with Mr. Wells that the Invisible King was probably not in the secrets of the Veiled Being, else he could scarcely have kept them so successfully. But have we any use for a God who can teach us nothing? who has to be taught by us before he can do anything worth mentioning? The old Gods who professed to teach were much more rational in theory, if only their teaching had not been all wrong. Man has built up his knowledge of the universe he lives in by slow, laborious degrees, not helped, but constantly and cruelly hindered, by his Gods. Yet Mr. Wells will surely not deny that an approximately true conception of the process of nature, and of his own origin and history, was an indispensable basis for all right and lasting social construction. What colossal harm has been wrought, for instance, by the fairy-tale of the Fall, and all its theological consequences! Yet, age after age, the Invisible King did nothing to shake its calamitous prestige. Of late it is true that the progress of knowledge has seemed no longer slow, but amazingly rapid; but that is because the amount of energy devoted to it has been multiplied a hundredfold. Each new step is still a very short one: it is generally found that several investigators have independently arrived at the verge of a new discovery, and it is often a matter of chance which of them first crosses the line and is lucky enough to associate his name with the completed achievement. All this means that to-day, as from the beginning, man has to wring her secrets from Nature in the sweat of his brain, and without the smallest assistance from any Invisible King or other potentate. To-day there are doubtless beneficent secrets under our very noses, so to speak, which one word of a still small voice might enable us to grasp, but which may remain undiscovered, to our great detriment, for centuries to come. There is, in short, no single point, either in history or in contemporary life, where "the light of the world" can be shown, or plausibly conjectured, to have lighted us to any practical purpose. And it is futile to urge, I repeat, that it could not have done so without a miraculous disturbance of the order of nature. The influence of mind upon mind, however conveyed, is the most natural thing in the world; and, short of transplanting mountains, inhibiting earthquakes, and teaching people to subsist on air, there is nothing that mind cannot do. Besides, when we come to think of it, why this prejudice against miracles? Why is Mr. Wells so sternly opposed to the bare idea of Providence? "Fear and feebleness," he says, "go straight to the Heresies that God is Magic or that God is Providence" (p. 27)--as though it were disgracefully pusillanimous to prefer a well-governed to an ungoverned world. God, in the ordinary sense of the word, the sense we all understand, is unquestionably magic, whether we like it or not. He is none the less magic because he works through one great spell, and not through a host of minor, petti-fogging miracles. Upon the matter of fact we are all agreed, Mr. Chesterton only dissenting; but Mr. Wells writes as if it were an essentially godlike thing, and greatly to the credit of any and every God, to give Nature its head, and take no further trouble about the matter. I cannot share that view. My only objection to Providence is that it manifestly does not exist. If it did exist, and made the world an appreciably better place to live in, why should we grudge it a few miracles? There is a touch of the sour-grapes philosophy in the rationalist attitude on this matter which Mr. Wells attributes to his Invisible King. Because we can't have any miracles, we say we don't want them. Also, no doubt, we see that the alleged miracles of the past were childish futilities, doing at most a little temporary good to individuals, never rendering any permanent service to a city or a nation, and much less to mankind at large. They were a sort of niggardly alms from omnipotence, not a generous endowment or a liberal compensation. But is that any reason why an intelligent Power should be unable to devise a really helpful miracle? Another plausible objection is that, even if we could admit the justice of a system of rewards and punishments, good and evil are so inextricably intermixed in this world that it is impossible to distribute benefits on a satisfactory moral scheme. It is impossible to manipulate the rainfall so that the righteous farmer shall have just what he wants at the appropriate seasons, while his wicked neighbour suffers from alternate drought and floods; nor can it be arranged that the midday express shall convey all the good people safely, while the 4.15, which is wrecked, carries none but undesirable characters. To this it might be replied that the inconceivable complexity of the chess-board of the world exists only in relation to our human faculties; but what is far more to the point is the indubitable fact that many salutary miracles might be wrought which would raise no question whatever as to the moral merits or defects of the beneficiaries. Miracles of alleged justice may reasonably be deprecated; but where is the objection to miracles of mercy, falling, like the blessed rain from heaven, on both just and unjust? The haughty soul of Mr. Wells may prefer a deity who offers us no tangible bribes--who not only does not work miracles, but will not even utilize to material ends that great system of wireless telegraphy between his mind and ours which he has, by hypothesis, at his disposal. Mine, I confess, is a humbler spirit. I should be perfectly willing to accept even thaumaturgic benefits if only they came in my way; and I cannot regard it as a merit in a God that he should carefully abstain from using even his powers of suggestion to do some practical good in the world, and, incidentally, to demonstrate his own existence. * * * * * It is difficult, in the course of a long discussion, to keep the attention fixed on the precise point at issue. I therefore sum up in a few words the argument of this chapter. In the first place, I have shown that, if words mean anything, Mr. Wells does actually wish us to believe that his God is not a figure of speech, but a person, an individual, as real and independent an entity as the Kaiser or President Wilson. In the second place, I have enquired whether anything he says enables us to conceive _à priori_ the possibility of such an entity disengaging itself from the mind of the race, and have regretfully been led to the conclusion that the genesis of this God remains at least as insoluble a mystery as that of any other God ever placed before a confiding public. Thirdly, I have approached the question _à posteriori_ and enquired whether history or present experience offers any evidence from which we can reasonably infer the existence and activity of such a God--arriving once more at a negative conclusion. With the best will in the world, I can discover nothing in this Invisible King but a sort of new liqueur--or old liqueur with a new label--suited, no doubt, to the constitutions of certain very exceptional people. Mr. Wells avers that he himself finds it supremely grateful and comforting, and further appeals to the testimony of a number of other (unnamed) believers--"English, Americans, Bengalis, Russians, French ... Positivists, Baptists, Sikhs, Mohammedans" (p. 4)--a quaint Pentecostal gathering. It is true, of course, that the proof of the pudding is in the eating, and of the liqueur in the drinking. But some of us are inveterately sceptical of the virtues of alcohol, even in non-intoxicant doses, and are apt to think that the man who discovers a remedy for sea-sickness or a prophylactic against typhoid is a greater benefactor of the race than a God whose special characteristic it is to be not only invisible himself but equally imperceptible in his workings. VI FOR AND AGAINST PERSONIFICATION For those of us who cannot accept Mr. Wells's Invisible King as a God in any useful or even comprehensible sense of the term, there remains the question whether he is a useful figure of speech. Metaphors and personifications are often things of great potency, whether for good or evil. It might quite well happen that, if we wholly rejected Mr. Wells's gospel, on account of a mere squabble as to the meaning of the word "God," we should thereby lose something which might have been of the utmost value to us. Let us not run the risk of throwing out the baby with the bath-water. Take the case of a very similar personification with which we are all familiar--to wit, John Bull. Is he a helpful or a detrimental "synthesis"? It is not quite easy to say. There is a certain geniality, a bluff wholesomeness, a downright honesty about him, which has doubtless its value; but on the other hand he is the incarnation of Philistinism and Toryism, the perfect expression of the average sensual man. I am told that in one of his avatars he has something like two million worshippers, on whom his influence is of the most questionable, precisely because they have implicit "faith" in him, and regard him as a "Friend behind phenomena," a "great brother," a "strongly marked and knowable personality, loving, inspiring, and lovable." That is an illustration of the dangers which may lurk in prosopopoeia. But in the main we can regard John Bull without too much misgiving, because we cannot regard him seriously. His worship will always be seasoned with the saving grace of humor. He can do service in two capacities--sometimes as an ideal, often as a deterrent. Whatever religious revolutions may await us, we are not likely to see St. Paul's Cathedral solemnly re-dedicated to the worship of John Bull. He and his sister divinity, Mrs. Grundy, have never lacked adorers in that basilica; but their cult is probably not on the increase. The Invisible King, on the other hand, is a personage to be taken with the utmost seriousness. If he has anything like the success Mr. Wells anticipates for him, it is quite on the cards that he might oust the present Reigning Family from one or all of the cathedrals. It is true that Mr. Wells deprecates any ritual worship; but "religious thought finely expressed" would always be in order; and he "does not see why there should not be, under God, associations for building cathedrals and such like great still places urgent with beauty, into which men and women may go to rest from the clamor of the day's confusions" (p. 168). If cathedrals may be built, all the more clearly may they be appropriated--if you can convert or evict the dean and chapter. If the Invisible King should take the fancy of the nation and the world, as Mr. Wells would have us think that he is already doing, he is bound to become the object of a formal cult. We shall very soon see a prayer-book of the "modern religion" with marriage, funeral and perhaps baptismal services, with daily lessons, and with suitable forms of prayer for persons who cannot trust themselves to extempore communings even with a "great brother." Well, there might be no great harm in this. Some solemn form for the expression of cosmic, and even of mundane or political, emotion would doubtless be useful; and if the "modern religion" could be saved from degenerating into a hysterical superstition on the one hand, or a petrified, persecuting orthodoxy on the other, it would certainly be a vast improvement on many of the religions of to-day. But the ambitions of the Invisible King go far beyond the mere presidency of an Ethical Church on an extended scale. He is to be a King and no mistake; not even a King of Kings, but "sole Monarch of the universal earth." Autocracies, oligarchies, and democracies are alike to be swept out of his path. The "implicit command" of the modern religion "to all its adherents is to make plain the way to the world theocracy" (p. 97). How the fiats of the Invisible King are to be issued, we are not informed. If through the ballot-box--"vox populi, vox dei"--then the distinction between theocracy and democracy will scarcely be apparent to the naked eye. And one does not see how, in the transition stage at any rate, recourse to the ballot-box is to be avoided, if only as a lesser evil than recourse to howitzers, tanks and submarines. We read that "if you do not feel God then there is no persuading you of him"; but if you do, "you will realize more and more clearly, that thus and thus and no other is his method and intention" (p. 98). Now, assuming (no slight assumption) that the oracles of God, the message of the still small voice, will be identically interpreted by all believers, the unbelievers, those who "do not feel God," have still to be dealt with; and, as they are not open to persuasion, it would seem that the faithful must be prepared either to shoot them down or to vote them down--whereof the latter seems the humaner alternative. It is true that Mr. Wells's God is a man of war; like that other whom he disowns but strangely resembles, "he brings mankind not rest but a sword" (p. 96). But we may confidently hold that this, at any rate, is but a manner of speaking. Even if the God is real, his sword is metaphoric. Mr. Wells is not seriously proposing to take his cue from his Mohammedan friends, raise the cry of "Allahu Akbar!" and propagate his gospel scimitar in hand. It is hard to see, then, what other method there can be of dealing with the heathen, except the method of the ballot-box--of course with proportional representation. When there are no more heathen--when the whole world can read the will of God by direct intuition, as though it were written in letters of fire across the firmament--then, indeed, the ballot-box may join the throne, sceptre and crown in the historical museum. But even the robust optimism of the _gottestrunken_ Mr. Wells can scarcely conceive this millennium to be at hand. So that in the meantime it seems unwise to speak slightingly of democracy, lest we thereby help the Powers, both here and elsewhere, which are fighting for something very much worse. For I take it that the worst enemy of the Wellsian God is the Superman, who has quite a sporting chance of coming out on top, if not actually in this War, at least in the welter that will succeed it. But seriously, is any conceivable sort of theocracy a desirable ideal? Or, to put the same question in more general terms, is it wise of Mr. Wells to make such play with the word "God"? He himself admits that "God trails with him a thousand misconceptions and bad associations: his alleged infinite nature, his jealousy, his strange preferences, his vindictive Old Testament past" (p. 8)--and, it may fairly be added, his blood-boltered, Kultur-stained present. Is it possible to deodorize a word which comes to us redolent of "good, thick stupefying incense-smoke," mingled with the reek of the auto-da-fé? Can we beat into a ploughshare the sword of St. Bartholomew, and a thousand other deeds of horror? God has been by far the most tragic word in the whole vocabulary of the race--a spell to conjure up all the worst fiends in human nature: arrogance and abjectness, fanaticism, hatred and atrocity. Religious reformers--with Jesus at their head--have time and again tried to divest it of some, at least, of its terrors, but they have invariably failed. Will Mr. Wells succeed any better? Is it not apparent in the foregoing discussion that, even if the word had no other demerits, it leads us into regions in which the mind can find no firm foothold? I have done my best to accept Mr. Wells's definitions, but I am sure he feels that I have constantly slipped from the strait and narrow path. Has he himself always kept to it? I think not. And, waiving that point, is it at all likely that people in general will be more successful than I have been in grasping and holding fast to the differentiating attributes of Mr. Wells's divinity? If the word is at best a confusion and at worst a war-whoop, should we not try to dispense with it, to avoid it, to find a substitute which should more accurately, if less truculently, express our idea? Is it wise or kind to seek to impose on the future an endless struggle with its sinister ambiguities? There are, no doubt, regions of thought from which it is extremely difficult to exclude the word; but these, fortunately, are regions in which it is almost necessarily divested of its historical associations. As a term of pure philosophy, if safeguarded by careful definition, it is a convenient piece of shorthand, obviating the necessity for a constant recourse to cumbrous formulas. But politics is not one of these regions of thought; and it is precisely in politics that the intervention of God has from of old been most disastrous. "Theocracy" has always been the synonym for a bleak and narrow, if not a fierce and blood-stained, tyranny. Why seek to revive and rehabilitate a word of such a dismal connotation? I suggest that even if the Invisible King _were_ a God, it would be tactful to pretend that he was not. As he is _not_ a God, in any generally understood sense of the term, it seems a curious perversity to pretend that he is. * * * * * Even in the region of morals it is a backward step to restore God to the supremacy from which he has with the utmost difficulty been deposed. I am sure Mr. Wells does not in his heart believe that any theological sanction is required for the plain essentials of social well-doing, or any theological stimulus for the rare sublimities of virtue. Incalculable mischief has been wrought by the clerical endeavour to set up a necessary association between right conduct and orthodoxy, between heterodoxy and vice. This Mr. Wells knows as well as I do; yet he can use such phrases as "Without God, the 'Service of Man' is no better than a hobby or a sentimentality or a hypocrisy." No doubt he has carefully explained that he does not mean by God or religion what the clergy mean; but can he be sure that by imitating their phrases he may not imperceptibly slide into their frame of mind? or at any rate tempt the weaker brethren to do so? In using such an expression he comes perilously near the attitude adopted by the Bishop of London in a recent address to the sailors of the Grand Fleet. His Lordship told his hearers--we have it on his own authority--that "there was in everyone a good man and a bad man. And I have not known a case," he added, "where the good man conquered the bad man without religion." Can there be any doubt that the Bishop was either telling--well, not the truth--or shamelessly playing with words? Of course it may be said that any man who keeps his lower instincts in control does so by aid of a feeling that there are higher values in life than sensual gratification or direct self-gratification of any sort; and we may, if we are so minded, call this feeling religion. But it is a very inconvenient meaning to attach to the word, and we cannot take it to be the meaning the Bishop had in view. What he meant, in all probability--what he desired his simple-minded hearers to understand--was that he had never known a good man who did not believe, if not in all the dogmas of the Church of England, at any rate in the Christian Trinity, the fall of man, redemption from sin, and the inspiration of the Scriptures. He meant that no man could be good who did not believe that God has given us in writing a synopsis of his plan of world-government, and has himself sojourned on earth and submitted to an appearance of death, some two thousand years ago, in fulfilment of the said plan. If he did _not_ mean that, he was, I repeat, playing with words and deceiving his hearers, who would certainly understand him to mean something to that effect; and if he _did_ mean that, he departed very palpably from the truth. The Bishop of London is no recluse, shut up in a monastery among men of his own faith. He is a man of the modern world, and he must know, and know that he knows, scores of men as good as himself who have no belief in anything that he would recognize as religion. Perhaps he was not directly conscious of telling a falsehood, for "faith" plays such havoc with the intellect that men cease to attach any living meaning to words, and come to deal habitually in those unrealized phrases which we call cant. But whatever may have been his excuses to his conscience, he was saying a very noxious thing to the simple, gallant souls who heard him. Many of them must have been well aware that they had no faith that would have satisfied the Bishop of London, and that whatever religious ideas lurked in their minds were of very little use to them in struggling with the temptations of a sailor's life. Where was the sense in telling them that the ordinary motives which make for good conduct--prudence, self-respect, loyalty, etc., etc.--are of no avail, and that they must inevitably be bad men if they had not "found religion"? If such talk does no positive harm, it is only because men have learnt to discount the patter of theology. Yet here we find Mr. Wells, after vigorously disclaiming any participation in the Bishop's beliefs, falling into the common form of episcopal patter, and telling me, for example--a benighted but quite well-intentioned heathen--that I can do no good in my generation unless I believe in a God whom he and a number of Eastern sages, Parthians, Medes, Elamites and dwellers in Mesopotamia, have recently "synthetized" out of their inner consciousnesses! It is not Mr. Wells's fault if I do not abandon the steep and thorny track of austerity which I have hitherto pursued, invest all my spare cash either in whiskey or in whiskey shares, and go for my philosophy in future to the inspiring author of _Musings without Method_ in "Blackwood." It is not quite clear why Mr. Wells should accept so large a part of the Christian ethic and yet refuse to identify his Invisible King with Christ. One would have supposed it quite as easy to divest the Christ-figure of any inconvenient attributes as to eliminate omniscience and omnipotence from the God-idea. Mr. Wells constantly allows his thoughts to run into the stereotype moulds of biblical phraseology. We have seen how he talks of "the still small voice," of "the light of the world," "taking the sting from death" and of God coming "in his own time" and bringing "not rest but a sword." To those instances may be added such phrases as "death will be swallowed up in victory" (p. 39), "by the grace of the true God" (p. 44), "God is Love" (p. 65), "the Son of Man" (p. 86), "I become my brother's keeper" (p. 97), "he it is who can deliver us 'from the body of this death'" (p. 99). But the clearest indication of Christian influence is to be found in Mr. Wells's unhesitating and emphatic adoption of the idea that "Salvation is indeed to lose oneself" (p. 73). "The difference," he says, "between ... the unbeliever and the servant of the true God is this ... that the latter has experienced a complete turning away from self. This only difference is all the difference in the world" (p. 84). It is curious what a fascination this turn of phrase has exercised upon many and diverse intelligences. Mr. Bernard Shaw, for instance, adopts it with enthusiasm. Henrik Ibsen--if it is ever possible to tie a true dramatist down to a doctrine--preaches in _Peer Gynt_ that "to be thyself is to slay thyself." Mr. Wells has a cloud of witnesses to back him up; and yet it is very doubtful whether the turn of phrase is a really helpful one--whether it does not rather get in the way of the natural man in his quest for a sound rule of life. It is a commonplace that the entirely self-centred man--the Robinson Crusoe of a desert island of egoism--is unhappy. At least if he is not he belongs to a low intellectual and moral type: the proof being that all development above the level of the oyster and the slug has involved more or less surrender of the immediate claims of "number one" to some larger unity. Progress has always consisted, and still consists, in the widening of the ideal concept which appeals to our loyalty. Is it not Mr. Wells's endeavour in this very book to claim our devotion for the all-embracing and ultimate ideal--the human race? So far, we are all at one. But when we are told that "conversion" or "salvation" consists in a "_complete_ turning away from self," common sense revolts. It is not true either in every-day life or in larger matters of conduct. In every-day life the incurably "unselfish" person is an intolerable nuisance. Here the common-sense rule is very simple: you have no right to seek your own "salvation," or, in non-theological terms, your own self-approval, at the cost of other people's; you have no business to offer sacrifices which the other party ought not to accept. It is true that in the application of this simple rule difficult problems may arise; but a little tact will generally go a long way towards solving them. In these matters an ounce of tact is worth a pound of casuistry. And in our every-day England, in all classes, it is my profound conviction that a reasonable selflessness is very far from uncommon, very far from being confined to the "converted" of any religion. For forty years I have watched it growing and spreading before my very eyes. Reading the other way _The Roundabout Papers_, I was greatly struck by the antiquated cast of the manners therein described. Of course Thackeray, in his day, was reputed a cynic, and supposed to have an over-partiality for studying the seamy side of things. But even if that had been true (which I do not believe) it would not have accounted for all the difference between the world he saw and that in which we move to-day. I suggest, then, that so far as the minor moralities are concerned, no new religion is required, and we have only to let things pursue their natural trend. And what of the great selflessnesses? What of the ideal loyalties? What of the long-accumulated instincts which tell a man, in tones which brook no contradiction, that the shortest life and the cruellest death are better than the longest life of sensual self-contempt? Here, as it seems to me, Mr. Wells's apostolate of a new religion is very conspicuously superfluous--much more so than it would have been five years ago. For have not he and I been privileged to witness one of the most beautiful sights that the world ever saw--the flocking of Young England, in its hundreds upon hundreds of thousands, to endure the extremity of hardship and face the high probability of a cruel death, not for England alone, not even for England, France and Belgium, but for what they obscurely but very potently felt to be the highest interests of the very same ideal entity which Mr. Wells proposes to our devotion--the human race? I am sure he would be the last to minimize the significance of that splendid uprising. No doubt there were other motives at work: in some, the mere love of change and adventure; in others, the pressure of public opinion. But my own observation assures me that, on the whole, these unideal motives played a very small part. The young men simply felt that he who held back was unfaithful to his fathers and unworthy of his sons; and they "turned away from self" without a moment's hesitation, and streamed to the colors with all the more eagerness the longer the casualty-lists grew, and the more clearly the horrors they had to face were brought home to them. Has there been any voluntary "slaying of self" on so huge a scale since the world began? I have not heard of it. And Mr. Wells will scarcely tell me that these young men went through the experiences he describes as "conversion," and escaped from the burden of "over-individuation" by throwing themselves into the arms of a synthetic God! Many of them, no doubt, would have expressed their idealism, had they expressed it at all, in terms of Christianity; but that, we are told, is a delusion, and the only true God is the Invisible King. If that be so, the conclusion would seem to be that, in the present stage of the evolution of human character, no God at all is needed to enable millions of men, in whom the blood runs high and the joy of life is at its keenest, to achieve the conquest of self in one of its noblest forms. Or (what comes to the same thing) any sort of God will serve the purpose. Your God (divested of metaphysical attributes) is simply a name for your own better instincts and impulses. Many people, perhaps most, share Mr. Wells's tendency to externalize, objectivate, personify these impulses; and there may be no harm in doing so. But when it comes to asserting that your own personification is the only true one, then--I am not so sure. Finally there arises the question whether the personification of the Invisible King can really, in any comprehensible sense, and for any considerable number of normal human beings, rob death of its sting, the grave of its victory? On this point discussion cannot possibly be conclusive, for the ultimate test is necessarily a personal one. If any sane and sincere person tells me that a certain idea, or emotion, or habit of mind, or even any rite or incantation, has deprived death of its terrors for him, I can only congratulate him, even if I have to confess that my own experience gives me no clue to his meaning. It is not even very profitable to enquire whether a man can be confident of his own attitude towards death unless he has either come very close to its brink himself, or known what it means to witness the extinction of a life on which his whole joy in the present and hope for the future depended. All one can do is to try to ascertain as nearly as possible what the contemner of death really means, and to consider whether his individual experience or feeling is, or is likely to become, typical. One thing we must plainly realize, and that is that, for the purposes of his present argument, Mr. Wells conceives death to be a real extinction of the individual consciousness. He does not formally commit himself to a denial of personal immortality, but it is a contingency which he declines to take into account. Oddly enough, in trying to acclimatize our minds to the idea of such an absolutely incorporeal and immaterial, yet really existent, being as his Invisible King, he comes near to clearing away the one great obstacle to belief in survival after death. "From the earliest ages," he says, "man's mind has found little or no difficulty in the idea of something essential to the personality, a soul or a spirit or both, existing apart from the body and continuing after the destruction of the body, and being still a person and an individual" (p. 59). He does not actually say that there _is_ no difficulty about this conception: he only says that, as a matter of history, the great mass of men have found it easy and natural to believe in ghosts. But it is hard to see any force in his argument at this point unless he means to imply that he himself finds "little or no difficulty" in conceiving the continued existence of a spiritual consciousness and individuality after the dissolution of the body to which it has been attached; and if he does mean this, it is hard to see why he does not take his stand beside Sir Oliver Lodge on the spiritist platform. To many of us, the extreme difficulty of such a conception is the one great barrier to the acceptance of the spiritist theory, for which remarkable evidence can certainly be adduced. This, however, is a digression. So far as _God the Invisible King_ is concerned, Mr. Wells must be taken as ignoring, if not rejecting, the idea of personal immortality. The victory over death, then, which the Invisible King is said to achieve, does not consist in its abolition. It may probably be best defined as the perfect reconcilement of the believer to the extinction of his individual consciousness. And what are the grounds of that reconcilement? Let us search the scriptures. Where the steps are described by which the catechumen approaches the full realization of God, it is said that at that stage he feels that "if there were such a being he would supply the needed consolation and direction, his continuing purpose would knit together the scattered effort of life, _his immortality would take the sting from death_" (p. 21-22). A little further on, the idea is elaborated in a high strain of mysticism. God, who "captains us but does not coddle us" (p. 42), will by no means undertake to hold the believer scatheless among the pitfalls and perils that beset our earthly pilgrimage. "But God will be with you nevertheless. In the reeling aeroplane, or the dark ice-cave, God will be your courage. Though you suffer or are killed, it is not an end. He will be with you as you face death; he will die with you as he has died already countless myriads of brave deaths. He will come so close to you that at the last you will not know whether it is you or he who dies, and the present death will be swallowed up in his victory" (p. 39). The passage has already been quoted in which it is written that, at the end of the fight for God's Kingdom, "we are altogether taken up into his being" (p. 68). In a discussion of "the religion of atheists" we are told that unregenerate man is "acutely aware of himself as an individual and unawakened to himself as a species," wherefore he "finds death frustration." His mistake is in not seeing that his own frustration "may be the success and triumph of his kind" (p. 72). At the point where we are told that "the first purpose of God is the attainment of clear knowledge," we are further informed that "he will apprehend more fully as time goes on" the purpose to which this knowledge is to be applied. But already it is possible to define "the broad outlines" of his purpose. "It is the conquest of death; first the overcoming of death in the individual _by the incorporation of the motives of his life into an undying purpose_" (p. 99), and then, as we saw before, the defeat of the threatened extinction of life through the cooling of the planet. These, I think, are the chief texts bearing directly on this particular matter; but there is one other remark which must not be overlooked. "A convicted criminal, frankly penitent," we are told, "... may still die well and bravely on the gallows, to the glory of God. He may step straight from that death into the immortal being of God." To what, now, does all this amount? Is there any more substantial solace in it than in the "Oh, may I join the Choir Invisible" aspiration of mid-nineteenth-century positivism? Far be it from me to speak contemptuously of that aspiration. It gives a new orientation and consistency to thought and effort during life; and to the man who feels that his little note will melt into the world-harmony that is to be, that thought may impart a certain serenity under the shadow of the end. It is certainly better to feel at night, "I have done a fair day's work," than to lie down with the confession, "My day has been wasted, and worse." No one wants, I suppose, to say with Peer Gynt:-- Thou beautiful earth, be not angry with me, That I trampled thy grasses to no avail; Thou beautiful sun, thou hast squandered away Thy glory of light in an empty hut. Beautiful sun and beautiful earth, You were foolish to bear and give light to my mother. But there is also another side to the question. The more surely you believe that "through the ages one increasing purpose runs"--the more intimately you have merged your individual will in what Mr. Wells would call the will of the Invisible King--the less do you relish the thought that you can never see that will worked out. The intenser your interest in the play, the greater your disinclination to leave the theatre just as the plot is thickening. Nor does it afford much consolation to know that the Producer is just (as it were) getting into his stride, and that, if the house should become too cold for comfort, arrangements will be made for the transference of the production to another theatre, with a better heating-apparatus. Is there any real escape from the fact that for each of us the one thing that actually exists is our individual consciousness? It is our universe; and if its trembling flame is blown out, that particular universe is no more. If its limits of "individuation" are irrecoverably lost, what avails it to tell us that the flame is absorbed into the light of the world or the dayspring on high? Is it possible to imagine that the rain-drop which falls in the Atlantic thrills with a great rapture as its molecules disperse in the moment of coalescence, because it is now part of an infinite and immortal entity? Yes, it is possible to imagine it rejoicing that its "chagrins of egotism," as an individual drop, are now over; in fact, this is precisely the sort of thing that some poets love to imagine; but has it any real relevance to our sublunary lot? Can it minister any substantial comfort or fortification to the normal man in the moment of peril or agony? I ask; I do not answer. Can Mr. Wells put in the witness-box any flight-lieutenant who will swear that in his reeling aeroplane, as death seemed on the point of engulfing him, he felt uncertain whether it was God or he that was about to die, and gloriously certain that in any case he was about to "step straight into the immortal being of God"? And even if, in the excitement of violent action, such hallucinations do mean something to a peculiar type of mind, has any one dying of pneumonia or Bright's disease been known to declare that, though his mortal spark was on the point of extinction, he felt that "by the incorporation of the motives of his life into an undying purpose" he had triumphed over death and the grave? The simple soul who says "We shall meet in Heaven" no doubt enjoys such a triumph--and even if he fails to keep the appointment, no one is any the worse. But where are the men and women who feel the immortality of God, however we define or construct him, a rich compensation for their own mortality? It may be said that I am applying shockingly terrestrial tests to Mr. Wells's soaring transcendentalisms. I am simply asking: "Will they work?" A world-religion cannot be what I have called a luxury for the intellectually wealthy. It must be within the reach of plain men and women; and plain men and women cannot, as the French say, "pay themselves with words." Take them all round, they do not make too much of death. With or without the aid of religion, they generally meet it with tolerable fortitude. But it will be hard to persuade them that annihilation is a thing to be faced with rapture, because a synthetic God is indestructible; or that death is not death because other people will be alive a hundred or a thousand years hence. Even if you cannot offer them another life, you may tell them of the grave as a place where the wicked cease from troubling and the weary are at rest, and they will understand. But will they understand if you tell them that we triumph over the grave because God dies with us and yet never dies? I fear it will need something clearer and more credible than this to make the undertaker a popular functionary. The doctrines of "the modern religion" may give us a new motive for living; but how can they at the same time diminish our distaste for dying? That might be their effect, no doubt, in cases where we felt that our death was promoting some great and sacred cause more than our life could have done; but such cases must always be extremely rare. Even the soldier on the battlefield will help his country more by living than by dying, if he can do so without failing in his duty. His death is not a triumph, but only a lesser evil than cowardice and disgrace. And what shall we say, for example, of the case of a young biologist who dies of blood-poisoning on the eve of a great and beneficent discovery? Is not this a case in which the modern God might with advantage have swerved from his principles and (for once) played the part of Providence? It is better, no doubt, to die in a good cause than to throw away life in the pursuit of folly or vice; but is it not playing with words to say that even the end of a martyr to science like Captain Scott, or a martyr to humanity like Edith Cavell, is a triumph over death and the grave? It is a triumph over cowardice, baseness, the love of ease and safety, all the paltrier aspects of our nature; but a triumph over death it is not. If it be true (which I do not believe) that German soldiers sign a declaration devoting the glycerine in their dead bodies to their country's service, one may imagine that some of them feel a species of satisfaction in resolving upon this final proof of patriotism; but it will be a gloomy satisfaction at best; there will be a lack of exhilaration about it; if the Herr Hauptmann who witnesses their signatures congratulates them on having triumphed over death, they will be apt to think it a rather empty form of words. If they had had the advantage of reading Jane Austen, they would probably say with Mr. Bennet, "Let us take a more cheerful view of the subject, and suppose that I survive." I fear that not even the companionship offered by the modern God in the act of dissolution will make death a cheerful experience, or induce ordinary, unaffected mortals to glory in their mortality. It is too much the habit of Gods to pretend to die when they don't really die at all--when, in fact, the whole idea is a mere intellectual hocus-pocus. VII BACK TO THE VEILED BEING Why has Mr. Wells partly goaded and partly hypnotized himself into the belief that he is the predestined prolocutor of a new hocus-pocus? Rightly or wrongly, I diagnose his case thus: What he really cares for is the future of humanity, or, in more concrete language, social betterment. He suffers more than most of us from the spectacle of the world of to-day, because he has the constructive imagination which can place alongside of that chaos of cupidities and stupidities a vision of a rational world-order which seems easily attainable if only some malignant spell could be lifted from the spirit of man. But he finds himself impotent in face of the crass inertia of things-as-they-are. Except the gift of oratory, he has all possible advantages for the part of a social regenerator. He has the pen of a ready and sometimes very impressive writer; he has a fair training in science; he has a fertile and inventive brain; his works of fiction have won for him a great public, both in Europe and America; yet he feels that his social philosophy, his ardent and enlightened meliorism, makes no more impression than the buzzing of a gnat in the ear of a drowsy mastodon. At the same time he has persuaded himself, whether on internal or on external evidence--partly, I daresay, on both--that men cannot thrive, either as individuals or as world-citizens, without some relation of reverence and affection to something outside and above themselves. He foresees that Christianity will come bankrupt out of the War, and yet that the huge, shattering experience will throw the minds of men open to spiritual influences. At the same time (of this one could point to several incidental evidences) he has come a good deal in contact with Indian religiosity, and learnt to know a type of mind to which God, in one form or another, is indeed an essential of life, while the particular form is a matter of comparative indifference. Then the idea strikes him: "Have we not here a great opportunity for placing the motive-power of spiritual fervor behind, or within, the sluggish framework of social idealism? Here it lies, well thought-out, carefully constructed, but inert, like an aeroplane without an engine. By giving the glow of supernaturalism, of the worship of a personal God, to the good old Religion of Humanity, may we not impart to our schemes for a well-ordered world precisely the uplift they at present lack? It was all very well for chilly New England transcendentalism to 'hitch its waggon to a star,' but the result is that Boston is governed by a Roman Catholic Archbishop. It is really much easier and more effective to hitch our waggon to God, who, being a synthesis of our own higher selves, will naturally pull it in whatever direction we want. Thus the mass of mankind will escape from that spiritual loneliness which is so discomfortable to them, and will find, in one and the same personification, a deity to listen to their prayers, and a 'boss,' in the Tammany sense of the term, to herd them to the polling-booths. What we want is collectivism touched with emotion. By proclaiming it to be the will of God, and identifying sound politics with ecstatic piety, we may shorten by several centuries the path to a new world-order." This is a translation into plain English of the thoughts which would seem to have possessed Mr. Wells's mind during the past year or so. I do not for a moment mean that he put them to himself in plain English. That would be to accuse him of insincerity--a thought which I most sincerely disclaim. I have not the least doubt that the Invisible King does actually supply a "felt want" in his spiritual outfit, and that he is perfectly convinced that most other people are similarly constituted and will welcome this new object of loyalty and devotion. Time will show whether his psychology is correct. If it is, then he has indeed made an important discovery. To use a very homely illustration: a carrot dangled from the end of a stick before a donkey's nose makes no mechanical difference in the problem of traction presented by the costermonger's barrow. If anything, it adds to the weight to be drawn. But if the sight of it cheers, heartens, and inspires the donkey, helping him to overcome those fits of lethargy so characteristic of his race, then the carrot may quite appreciably accelerate the general rate of progress. It all depends on the psychology of the donkey. Moses doubtless did very wisely in going up into Mount Sinai and abiding there forty days and forty nights. Whatever he may have seen and heard, the semblance of communion with a Higher Power unquestionably lent a prestige to his scheme of social reform which it could never have attained had he offered it on its inherent merits, as the project of a mere human legislator, or (still worse) of a man of letters. Moses, in fact, knew his Children of Israel. Does Mr. Wells know his modern Englishmen or Anglo-Americans? That is the question. Mr. Bernard Shaw has made a similar and very ingenious attempt, not exactly to found a new religion, but to place his ideas in a religious atmosphere. In the preface to _Androcles and the Lion_ (a disquisition just about as long as _God the Invisible King_) he propounds the question, "Why not give Christianity a trial?" and opens the discussion thus: "The question seems a hopeless one after 2,000 years of resolute adherence to the old cry of 'Not this man, but Barabbas.' Yet it is beginning to look as if Barabbas was a failure, in spite of his strong right hand, his victories, his empires, his millions of money, and his moralities and churches and political constitutions. 'This man' has not been a failure yet; for nobody has ever been sane enough to try his way." Then he goes on to shew, by a course of very plausible reasoning, that the teaching of Jesus was, in all essentials, an exact anticipation of the economic and social philosophy of G. B. S.; so that, in giving political expression to that philosophy, we should be, for the first time, establishing the Kingdom of Christ upon earth. It is true that there are passages in the Gospels which no more accord with Mr. Shaw's sociology than do omnipotence and omniscience with the theology of Mr. Wells. But these passages do not embarrass Mr. Shaw. He simply points out that, at Matthew xvi, 16, where Peter hailed him as "the Christ, the Son of the living God," Jesus went mad. Up to that fatal moment "his history is that of a man sane and interesting apart from his special gifts as orator, healer and prophet"; but from that point onward he set to work to live up to "his destiny as a god," part of which was to be killed and to rise again. Many other prophets have gone mad--for instance, Ruskin and Nietzsche. Therefore we can have no difficulty in simply eliminating as a morbid aberration whatever is un-Shavian in the message of Jesus, and accepting the rest as the sincere milk of the word. Mr. Shaw's attempt to place his philosophy under divine patronage is not so serious as Mr. Wells's; for Mr. Shaw can never take himself quite seriously for five pages together. But the motive, in each case, in manifestly the same--to obtain for a system of ideas the prestige, the power of insinuation, penetration, and stimulation, that attaches to the very name of religion. The notion is a very tempting one. What every prophet wants, in the babel of latter-day thought, is a magic sounding-board which shall make his voice carry to the ends of the earth and penetrate to the dullest understanding. The more he believes in his own reason, the more he yearns for some method of out-shouting the unreason of his neighbours. German philosophy thought it had discovered the ideal reverberator in the artillery of Herr Krupp von Bohlen; but the world is curiously indisposed to conversion by cannon, and has retorted in a still louder roar of high-explosive arguments. God, as a politico-philosophical ally, is certainly cheaper than Herr Krupp; and, divested of his mediæval sword and tinder-box, he is decidedly humaner. But is the glamour of his name quite what it once was? Or can it be restored to its pristine potency? On a question, such as this, on which the evidence is too vague, too voluminous and too complex to be interpreted with any certainty, our wishes are apt to take control of our thoughts. Making all allowance for this source of error, I nevertheless venture to suggest to Mr. Wells that we may perhaps be passing out of, not into, an age of religiosity. May it not be that the time has come to give the name of God a rest? Is it not possible, and even probable, that, while the vast apocalypse of the observatory and the laboratory is proceeding with unexampled speed, thinking people may prefer to await its developments, rather than pin their faith to an interim, synthetic God, whom his own still, small voice must, in moments of candor, confess to be merely make-believe? Is it the fact that men, or even women, of our race are, as a rule, absolutely dependent for courage, energy, self-control and self-devotion, upon some "great brother" outside themselves, "a strongly-marked personality, loving, inspiring and lovable," whom they conceive to be always within call? In making this assumption, is not Mr. Wells ignoring the great mass of paganism in the world around him--not all of it, or even most of it, self-conscious and self-confessed, but none the less real on that account? He makes a curious remark as to the personage whom he calls "the benevolent atheist," which is, I take it, his nickname for the man who is not much interested in midway Gods between himself and the Veiled Being. This hapless fellow-creature, says Mr. Wells, "has not really given himself or got away from himself. He has no one to whom he can give himself. _He is still a masterless man_" (p. 83). As Mr. Wells has evidently read a good deal about Japan, he no doubt takes this expression from Japanese feudalism, which made a distinct class of the "ronin" or masterless man, who had, by death or otherwise, lost his feudal superior. But is it really, to our Western sense, a misfortune to be a masterless man? Does the healthy human spirit suffer from having no one to bow down to, no one to relieve it of the burden of choice, responsibility, self-control? If our feudal allegiance has terminated through the death of the Gods who asserted a hereditary claim upon it, must we make haste to build ourselves an idol, or synthetize a mosaic ikon, to serve as the recipient of our obeisances, genuflexions, osculations? I cannot believe that this is a general, and much less a universal, tendency. If any one is irked by the condition of a "masterless man," the Roman Catholic Church holds wide its doors for him. It seems very doubtful whether any less ancient, dogmatic, hieratic, spectacular form of make-believe will serve his turn. It has sometimes seemed to me that the one great advantage of Western Christianity lies in the fact that nobody very seriously believes in it. "Nobody" is not a mathematically accurate expression, but it is quite in the line of the truth. You have to go to Asia to find out what religion means. If you cannot get so far, Russia will serve as a half-way house; but to study religion on its native heath, so to speak, you must go to India. Of course there may be some illusion in the matter, due to one's ignorance of the languages and inability to estimate the exact spiritual significance of outward manifestations; but I cannot believe that, anywhere between Suez and Singapore, there exists that healthy godlessness, that lack of any real effective dependence on any outward Power "dal tetto in su," which is so common in and around all Christian churches. In China and Japan it is another matter. There, I fancy, religious "ronins" are common enough. But in the lands of the Crescent and the land of "OM," anything like freedom of the human spirit is probably very rare and very difficult. The difference does not arise from any lesser stringency in the claims of Christianity to spiritual dominion, but rather, I imagine, from a deep-seated divergence in racial heredity. We Western Aryans have behind us the serene and splendid rationalisms of Greece and Rome. We are accustomed from childhood to the knowledge that our civilization was founded by two mighty aristocracies of intellect, to whom the religions of their day were, as they are to us, nothing but more or less graceful fairy-tales.[4] We know that many of the greatest men the world ever saw, while phrasing their relation to the "deus absconditus" in various ways, were utterly free from that penitential, supplicatory abjectness which is the mark of Asian salvationism. And though of course the conscious filiation to Greece and Rome is rare, the habit of mind which holds up its head in the world and feels no childish craving to cling to the skirts of a God, is not rare at all. Therefore I conceive that people who are shaken out of their conventional, unrealized Christianity by the earthquake of the war will not, as a rule, be in any hurry to rush into the arms of the "great brother" constructed for them by Mr. Wells. It is easier to picture them flocking to the banner of the Fabian Jesus--the Christ uncrucified, and restored to sanity, of Mr. Bernard Shaw. [4] Namque deos didici securum agere aevum, nec, siquid miri faciat natura, deos id tristes ex alto caeli demittere tecto. HORACE, _Satires_ I., 5. * * * * * Does it really seem to Mr. Wells an arid and damnable "atheism" that finds in the very mystery of existence a subject of contemplation so inexhaustibly marvellous as to give life the fascination of a detective story? When Mr. Wells tells us that "the first purpose of God is the attainment of clear knowledge, of knowledge as a means to more knowledge, and of knowledge as a means to power," he states what is, to many of us, the first and last article of religion--only that we prefer to steer clear of hocus-pocus and substitute "Man" for "God." If we are almost, or even quite, reconciled to the cruelties and humiliations of life by the thought of its visual glories, its intellectual triumphs, and the mysteries with which it is surrounded, is that frame of mind wholly unworthy to be called religious? If it is, I, for one, shall not complain; for religion, like God, is a word that has been-- Defamed by every charlatan And soil'd with all ignoble use. But it will be difficult to persuade me of the loftier spirituality, or even the more abiding solace, involved in ecstatic devotion to a figure of speech. There are two elements of consolation in life: the things of which we are sure, and the things of which we are unsure. We are sure that man has somehow been launched upon the most romantic adventure that mind can conceive. He has set forth to conquer and subdue the world, including the stupidities and basenesses of his own nature. At first his progress was incalculably slow; then he came on with a rush in the great sub-tropical river basins; and presently, where the brine of the Ægean got into his blood, he achieved such miracles of thought and art that his subsequent history, for well-nigh two thousand years, bore the appearance of retrogression. I have already asked what the Invisible King was about when he suffered the glory that was Athens to sink in the fog-bank that was Alexandria. At all events, that wonderful false-start came to nothing. Rome succeeded to the world-leadership; and Rome, though energetic and capable, was never brilliant. With her, European free thought, investigation, science flickered out, and Asian religion took its place. Truly the slip-back from antiquity to the dark ages offers a specious argument to the atheists--the true and irredeemable atheists--who deny the reality of progress. Specious, but quite insubstantial; for we can analyze the terrestrial conditions which led to that catastrophe, and assure ourselves that the bugbear of their recurrence is nothing more than a bugbear. The printing-press alone is an inestimable safeguard. If the Greeks had hit upon the idea of movable types--and it is little to the credit of the Invisible King that they did not--the onrush of barbarism and Byzantinism would not have been half so disastrous. And even through the Dark Ages the bias towards betterment is still perceptible, though its operation was terribly hampered. Then, at last, the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries took up the thread of progress where antiquity had dropped it. Science revived, and bade defiance to dogma. The garnering of knowledge began afresh; and true knowledge has this to distinguish it from pseudo-sciences like astrology, theology, and philately, that it is instinct with procreative vigour. Knowledge breeds knowledge with ever-increasing rapidity; and the result is that the past hundred years have seen additions to man's control over the powers of nature which outstrip the wildest imaginings of Eastern romance. When Mr. Gladstone first went to Rome in 1832, his "transportation" was no swifter and scarcely more comfortable than that of Cæsar in the fifties before Christ. Today he could fly over the Matterhorn and Monte Rosa, and then cover the distance from Milan onwards at the rate of seventy miles an hour in a limousine as luxurious as an Empress's boudoir. We are piling up the knowledge which is power at an enormous rate--indeed rather too rapidly, since we have not yet the sense to discriminate between power for good and power for evil. But "burnt bairns dread the fire," and after the present awful experience, there is fair ground for hope that measures will be taken to provide strait-waistcoats for the criminal lunatics whose vanity and greed impel them to let loose the powers of destruction. Can any thinking man say that the world is quite the same to him since the invention of wireless telegraphy? True it is only one among the multitude of phenomena behind which the Veiled Being dissembles himself. But is it not a phenomenon of a new and perhaps an epoch-marking order? It may not make the veil more diaphanous, but it somehow suggests an alteration--perhaps a progressive alteration--in its texture. When we say we are sure of the fact of progress, the atheist comes down on us with the retort that we thereby confess ourselves naïve and credulous optimists. As well say that when we express our confidence that the North Western Railway will carry us to Manchester, we thereby imply the belief that Manchester is the Earthly Paradise. It is quite possible--any one who is so minded may say it is quite probable--that progress means advance towards disillusion. What we are sure of is merely this: that life may be, and ought to be, a very different thing from what it now is, and that it is in our own power to make it so. We have not the least doubt that the generations which come after us will say:-- We will not cease from mortal strife, Nor shall the sword slip from our hand, Till we have built Jerusalem In England's green and pleasant land. But whether, when they have built it, they will think Jerusalem worth the building is quite a different matter. It may be that Leopardi was right when he said, "Men are miserable by necessity, but resolute in believing themselves to be miserable by accident." That is a proposition which the individual can accept or reject so far as his own little span is concerned, but on which the race, as such, can pass no valid judgment. Life has never had a fair chance. It has always been so beset with accidental and corrigible evils that no man can say what life, in its ultimate essence, really is. All we know is that many of its miseries are factitious, inessential, eminently curable; and till these are eradicated, how are we to determine whether there are other evils too deep-rooted for our surgery? It may be, for example, that the elimination of Pain would only leave a vacuum for Tedium to rush in; but how are we to decide this _à priori_? Let us learn what are the true potentialities of life before we undertake to declare whether it is worth living or not. Perhaps I may be allowed to quote at this point some words of my own which express the idea I am trying to convey as clearly as I am capable of putting it. They are part of the last paragraph of an address entitled _Knowledge and Character: The Straight Road in Education_:[5] The great, dominant, all-controlling fact of this life is the innate bias of the human spirit, not towards evil, as the theologians tell us, but towards good. But for this bias, man would never have been man; he would only have been one more species of wild animal ranging a savage, uncultivated globe, the reeking battle-ground of sheer instinct and appetite. But somehow and somewhere there germinated in his mind the idea that association, co-operation, would serve his ends better than unbridled egoism in the struggle for existence. Instead of "each man for himself" his motto became "each man for his family, or his tribe, or his nation, or--ultimately--for humankind." And, at a very early stage, what made for association, co-operation, brotherhood, came to be designated "good," while that which sinned against these upward tendencies was stigmatized as "evil." From that moment the battle was won, and the transfiguration of human life became only a matter of time. The prejudice in favour of the idea of good is the fundamental fact of our moral nature. It has an irresistible, a magical prestige. We have made, and are still making, a myriad mistakes--tragic and horrible mistakes--in striving for good things which are evils in disguise. A few of us (though relatively not very many) try to overcome the prejudice altogether, and say, "Evil, be thou my good!" But even these recreants and deserters from the great army of humanity have to express themselves in terms of good, and to take their stand on a sheer contradiction. Evil, as such, has simply not a fighting chance. The prestige of good is stupendous. We are all hypnotized by it; and the reason we are slow in realizing the ideal is, not that we are evil, but that we are stupid. [5] London: George Allen and Unwin, 1916. "Mit der Dummheit kämpfen Götter selbst vergebens"--no one had a better right to say that than a German poet. But though the Invisible King has made a poor fight against human stupidity, it is not really unconquerable. If Gods cannot conquer it, men can. Its strongholds are falling one by one, and, though a long fight is before us, its end is not in doubt. We may even hope, not without some plausibility, that moral progress may be all the more rapid in the future because the limit of what may be called mechanical progress cannot be so very far off. The conquest of distance is the great material fact that makes for world-organization; and distance cannot, after all, be more than annihilated--it cannot be reduced to a minus quantity. Now that we can whisper round the globe as we whisper round the dome of St. Paul's, we cannot get much further on that line of advance, until immaterial thought-transference shall enable us "to flash through one another in a moment as we will." We may before long have reduced the crossing of the Atlantic from five days to one, or even less; but in that direction, too, there is a limit to progress; no invention will enable us to arrive before we start. The conquest of physical disease seems to be well within view; the possibilities of intensive cultivation and selective breeding in plants and animals are likely to be rapidly developed. When such material problems cease to exercise the first fascination upon the enquiring mind, the mental sciences, psychology and sociology, with the great neglected art of education, may come into their kingdom. Then the atheism which avers that the world stands still, or moves only in a circle, will no longer be possible. Then all reasonable men will feel themselves soldiers in "a mighty army which has won splendid victories (though here and there chequered with defeats) on its march out of the dim and tragic past, and is clearly destined to far greater triumphs in the future, if only each man does, with unflinching loyalty, the duty assigned to him." That loyalty will then be the conscious and acknowledged rule of life, as it is now in an instinctive and half-realized fashion. It will help us, more than all the personifications in the world, to "turn away from self." It will not take the sting from death, but it will enable us to feel that we have earned our rest, and brought no disgrace upon the colors of our regiment. Is it necessary to protest once more that this assurance of progress towards the good is not to be confounded with optimism? For it is clear that "good" is a question-begging word. The only possible definition of "good" is "that which makes for life"--for life, not only measured by quantity, but by quality and intensity--"that ye may have life more abundantly." Why is egoism evil? Because a world in which it reigned supreme would very soon come to an end, or at any rate could not support anything like the abundance of life which is rendered possible by mutual aid and co-operation. Why are order, justice, courage, humanity good? Because they enable more people to lead fuller lives than would be possible in the absence of such guiding principles. But in all this we assume the validity of the standard--"life"--which is precisely what pessimism denies. And pessimism may quite conceivably be in the right on't. It is quite conceivable that, having made the best that can possibly be made of life, a world-weary race might decide that the best was not good enough, and deliberately turn away from it. But that is a contingency, a speculation, which no sane man would allow to affect his action here and now, or to impair his loyalty to his comrades in the great terrestrial adventure. And is not this question of the ultimate value of life precisely one of the uncertainties which lend--if the flippancy may be excused--a "sporting interest" to our position? I have said that we have two elements of consolation: the things which are sure and the things which are unsure: in other words, the axioms and the mysteries. Reason is all very well so far as it goes, and we do right to trust to it; but it may prove, after all, that the things that are behind and beyond and above reason are the things that really matter. Does this seem a concession to obscurantism? Not at all--for the things obscurantism glories in are things beneath reason, which is quite another affair. At the same time, we are too apt to think that reason has drawn a complete outline-map of its "sphere of influence," in which there are many details to be filled in, but no boundaries to be shifted, no regions wholly unexplored. It is, for instance, very unreasonable to hold that we can draw a hard and fast line between the materially possible and impossible. There is certainly a curious ragged edge to our purely scientific knowledge, and it may well be that in following up the frayed-out threads we may come upon things very surprising and important. For example, the question whether consciousness can exist detached from organized matter, or attached to some form of matter of which we have no knowledge, I regard as purely a question of evidence; and I not only admit but assert that the evidence pointing in that direction is worthy of careful examination. The interpretation which sees in it a proof of personal immortality may be wrong, but that does not prove that the right interpretation is not worth discovering. The spiritist voyagers may not have reached the Indies of their hopes, yet may have stumbled upon an unsuspected America. Nor does the fact that they are eager and credulous invalidate the whole, or anything like the whole, of their evidence. After all, is it a greater miracle that consciousness should exist _de_tached from matter than that it should exist _at_tached to matter? Yet the latter miracle nobody doubts, except in the nursery games of the metaphysicians. To define, or rather to adumbrate, the realm of mystery, which is yet as indisputably real as the realm of reason and sense, we naturally turn to the poets, the seers. Here is a glimpse of it through the eyes of Francis Thompson, that creature of transcendent vision who made a strange pretence of wearing the blinkers of the Roman Catholic Church. Thus he writes in his "Anthem of Earth":-- Ay, Mother! Mother! What is this Man, thy darling kissed and cuffed, Thou lustingly engender'st, To sweat, and make his brag, and rot, Crowned with all honour and all shamefulness? From nightly towers He dogs the secret footsteps of the heavens, Sifts in his hands the stars, weighs them as gold-dust, And yet is he successive unto nothing But patrimony of a little mould, And entail of four planks. Thou hast made his mouth Avid of all dominion and all mightiness, All sorrow, all delight, all topless grandeurs, All beauty and all starry majesties, And dim transtellar things;--even that it may, Filled in the ending with a puff of dust, Confess--"It is enough." The world left empty What that poor mouthful crams. His heart is builded For pride, for potency, infinity, All heights, all deeps, and all immensities, Arras'd with purple like the house of kings,-- To stall the grey rat, and the carrion-worm Statelily lodge. Mother of mysteries! Sayer of dark sayings in a thousand tongues, Who bringest forth no saying yet so dark As we ourselves, thy darkest! Surely this is the very truth. Man is a hieroglyph to which reason supplies no key--nay, reason itself is the heart of the enigma. And does not this lend a strange fascination to the adventure of life? Another singer, in a very much simpler strain, puts something of the same idea:-- Marooned on an isle of mystery, From a stupor of sleep we woke, And gazed at each other wistfully, A wondering, wildered folk. There were flowery valleys and mountains blue, And pastures, and herds galore, And fruits that were luscious to bite into, Though bitter at the core. So we plucked up heart, and we dree'd our weird Through flickering gleam and gloom, And still for rescue we hoped--or feared-- From our island home and tomb. But never over the sailless sea Came messenger bark or schooner With news from the far-off realm whence we Set sail for that isle of mystery, Or a whisper of apology From our mute, malign marooner. The strain of pessimism in this is even more marked than in Thompson's "Anthem"; and indeed it is hard to deny that the resolute silence of the "Veiled Being," the "Invisible King," and all the Gods and godlings ever propounded to mortal piety, is one of their most suspicious characteristics. Yet it may be that this reproach, however natural, does the Veiled Being--or the Younger Power of our alternative myth--a measure of injustice. It may be that the great Dramaturge keeps his plot to himself precisely in order that the interest may be maintained up to the fall of the curtain. It may be that its disclosure would upset the conditions of some vast experiment which he is working out. Where would be the interest of a race if its result were a foregone conclusion? Where the passion of a battle if its issue were foreknown? What if we should prove to be somnambulists treading some dizzy edge between two abysses, and able to reach the goal only on condition that we are unconscious of the process? Perhaps the sanest view of the problem is that presented in Bliss Carman's haunting poem THE JUGGLER Look how he throws them up and up, The beautiful golden balls! They hang aloft in the purple air, And there never is one that falls. He sends them hot from his steady hand, He teaches them all their curves; And whether the reach be little or long, There never is one that swerves. Some, like the tiny red one there, He never lets go far; And some he has sent to the roof of the tent To swim without a jar. So white and still they seem to hang, You wonder if he forgot To reckon the time of their return And measure their golden lot. Can it be that, hurried or tired out, The hand of the juggler shook? O never you fear, his eye is clear, He knows them all like a book. And they will home to his hand at last, For he pulls them by a cord Finer than silk and strong as fate, That is just the bid of his word. Was ever there such a sight in the world? Like a wonderful winding skein,-- The way he tangles them up together And ravels them out again! * * * * * If I could have him at the inn All by myself some night,-- Inquire his country, and where in the world He came by that cunning sleight! Where do you guess he learned the trick To hold us gaping here, Till our minds in the spell of his maze almost Have forgotten the time of year? One never could have the least idea. Yet why he disposed to twit A fellow who does such wonderful things With the merest lack of wit? Likely enough, when the show is done And the balls all back in his hand, He'll tell us why he is smiling so, And we shall understand. I am not, perhaps, very firmly assured of this consummation. Yet I am much more hopeful of one day understanding the Juggler and the Balls than of ever getting into confidential relations with Mr. Wells's Invisible King. * * * * * One is conscious of a sort of churlishness in thus rejecting the advances of so amiable a character as the Invisible King. But is Mr. Wells, on his side, quite courteous, or even quite fair, to the Veiled Being? "Riddle me no riddles!" he seems to say; "I am tired of your guessing games. Let us have done with 'distressful enquiry into ultimate origins,' and 'bring our minds to the conception of a spontaneous and developing God'--one of whose existence and benevolence we are sure, since we made him ourselves. I want something to worship, to take me out of myself, to inspire me with brave phrases about death. How can one worship an insoluble problem? Will an enigma die with me in a reeling aeroplane? While you lurk obstinately behind that veil, how can I even know that your political views are sound? Whereas the Invisible King gives forth oracles of the highest political wisdom, in a voice which I can scarcely distinguish from my own. You are a remote, tantalizing entity with nothing comforting or stimulating about you. But as for my Invisible King, 'Closer is he than breathing, and nearer than hands and feet.'" A little way back, I compared Mr. Wells to Moses; but, looked at from another point of view, he and his co-religionists may rather be likened to the Children of Israel. Tired of waiting for news from the God on the cloudy mountain-top, did they not make themselves a synthetic deity, finite, friendly, and very like the Invisible King, inasmuch as he seems to have worked no miracles, and done, in fact, nothing whatever? But the God on the mountain-top was wroth, and accused them of idolatry, surely not without reason. For what is idolatry if it be not manufacturing a God, whether out of golden earrings or out of humanitarian sentiments, and then bowing down and worshipping it? The wrath of the tribal God against his bovine rival was certainly excessive--yet we cannot regard idolatry as one of the loftier manifestations of the religious spirit. The man who can bow down and worship the work of his hands shows a morbid craving for self-abasement. It is possible, no doubt, to plead that the graven image is a mere symbol of incorporeal, supersensible deity; and the plea is a good one, if, and in so far as, we can believe that the distinction between the sign and the thing signified is clear to the mind of the devotee. The difficulty lies in believing that the type of mind which is capable of focussing its devotion upon a statuette is also capable of distinguishing between the idea of a symbol and the idea of a portrait. But when we pass from the work of a man's hands to the work of his brain--from an actual piece of sculpture to a mental construction--the plea of symbolism can no longer be advanced. This graven image of the mind, so to speak, is the veritable God, or it is nothing; and Mr. Wells, as we have seen, is profuse in his assurances that it is the veritable God. That is what makes his whole attitude and argument so baffling. One can understand an idolater who says "I believe that my God inhabits yonder image," or "Yonder image is only a convenient point of concentration for the reverence, gratitude, and love which pass through it to the august and transcendent Spirit whom it symbolizes." But how are we to understand the idolater who adores, and claims actual divinity for, an emanation from his own brain and the brains of a certain number of like-minded persons? Is it not as though a ventriloquist were to prostrate himself before his own puppet? This craving for something to worship points to an almost uncanny recrudescence of the spirit of Asia in a fine European intelligence. For my own part, as above stated, I cannot believe Mr. Wells's case to be typical; but in that I may be mistaken. It is possible that an epidemic of Asiatic religiosity may be one of the sequels of the War. If that be so--if there are many people who shrink from the condition of the spiritual "ronin," and are in search of a respectable "daimio" to whom to pay their devotion--I beg leave strongly to urge the claims of the Veiled Being as against the Invisible King. He has at the outset the not inconsiderable advantage of being an entity instead of a non-entity. Whoever or whatever he may be, we are compelled by the very constitution of our minds to assume his (or its) existence; whereas there is manifestly no compulsion to assume the existence of the Invisible King. Then, again, the Veiled Being is entirely unpretentious. There is no bluster and no cant about him. He does not claim our gratitude for the doubtful boon of life. He does not pretend to be just, while he is committing, or winking at, the most intolerable injustices. He does not set up to be long-suffering, while in fact he is childishly touchy. He does not profess to be merciful, while the incurable ward, the battlefield--nay, even the maternity home and the dentist's parlor--are there to give him the lie. (Here, of course, I am not contrasting him with the Invisible King, but with more ancient and still more Asian divinities.) It is the moral pretensions tagged on by the theologians to metaphysical Godhead that revolt and estrange reasonable men--Mr. Wells among the rest. If you tell us that behind the Veil we shall find a good-natured, indulgent old man, who chastens us only for our good, is pleased by our flatteries (with or without music), and is not more than suitably vexed at our naughtinesses in the Garden of Eden and elsewhere--we reply that this is a nursery tale which has been riddled, time out of mind, not by wicked sceptics, but by the spontaneous, irrepressible criticism of babes and sucklings. But if you divest the Veiled Being of all ethical--or in other words of all human--attributes, then there is no difficulty whatever in admiring, and even adoring, the marvels he has wrought. Tennyson went deeper than he realized into the nature of things when he wrote-- "For merit lives from man to man, But not from man, O Lord, to thee." Once put aside all question of merit and demerit, of praise and blame, and more especially (but this will shock Mr. Wells) of salvation and damnation--and nothing can be easier than to pay to the works of the Veiled Being the meed of an illimitable wonder. When we think of the roaring vortices of flame that spangle the heavens night by night, at distances that beggar conception: when we think of our tiny earth, wrapped in its little film of atmosphere, spinning safely for ages untold amid all these appalling immensities: and when we think, on the other hand, of the battles of claw and maw going on, beneath the starry vault, in that most miraculous of jewels, a drop of water: we cannot but own that the Power which set all this whirl of atoms agoing is worthy of all admiration. And approbation? Ah, that is another matter; for there the moral element comes in. It is possible (and here lies the interest of the enigma) that the Veiled Being may one day justify himself even morally. Perhaps he is all the time doing so behind the veil. But on that it is absolutely useless to speculate. Light may one day come to us, but it will come through patient investigation, not through idle pondering and guessing. In the meantime, poised between the macrocosm and the microcosm, ourselves including both extremes, and being, perhaps, the most stupendous miracle of all, we cannot deny to this amazing frame of things the tribute of an unutterable awe. If that be religion, I profess myself as religious as Mr. Wells. I am even willing to join him in some outward, ceremonial expression of that sentiment, if he can suggest one that shall not be ridiculously inadequate. What about kneeling through the C Minor Symphony? That seems to me about as near as we can get. Or I will go with him to Primrose Hill some fine morning (like the Persian Ambassador fabled by Charles Lamb) and worship the Sun, chanting to him William Watson's magnificent hymn:-- "To thee as our Father we bow, Forbidden thy Father to see, Who is older and greater than thou, as thou Art greater and older than we." The sun, at any rate, is not a figure of speech, and is a symbol which runs no risk of being mistaken for a portrait. If Mr. Wells would be content with some such "bright sciential idolatry," I would willingly declare myself a co-idolater. But alas! he is the hierophant of the Invisible King, and prayer to that impotent potentate is to me a moral impossibility. I would rather face damnation, especially in the mild form threatened by Mr. Wells, which consists (pp. 148-149) in not knowing that you are damned. And if Mr. Wells maintains that in the worship of the non-moral Veiled Being there is no practical, pragmatic comfort, I reply that I am not so sure of that. When all is said and done, is there not more hope, more solace, in an enigma than in a _façon de parler_? I should be quite willing to accept the test of the reeling aeroplane. The aviator can say to his soul: "Here am I, one of the most amazing births of time, the culmination of an endless series of miracles. Perhaps I am on the verge of extinction--if so, what does it all matter? But perhaps, on the contrary, I am about to plunge into some new adventure, as marvellous as this. More marvellous it cannot be, but it may perhaps be more agreeable. At all events, there is something fascinating in this leap in the dark. Good bye, my soul! Good-bye, my memory! 'If we should meet again, why, we shall smile; If not, why then this parting was well made.'" I cannot but think that there is as much religion and as much solace in such a shaking-off of "the bur o' the world" as in the thought that the last new patent God is going to die with you, and that you, unconsciously and indistinguishably merged in him, are going to live for ever. THE NEWEST BORZOI BOOKS LUSTRA _By Ezra Pound_ DANDELIONS _By Coulson T. Cade_ A CHASTE MAN _By Louis Wilkinson_ GOD AND MR. WELLS _By William Archer_ MARTIN RIVAS _By Alberto Blest-Gana_ BEATING 'EM TO IT _By Chester Cornish_ A BOOK OF PREFACES _By H. L. Mencken_ THE THREE BLACK PENNYS _By Joseph Hergesheimer_ INTERPRETERS AND INTERPRETATIONS _By Carl Van Vechten_ MR. GEORGE JEAN NATHAN PRESENTS _By George Jean Nathan_ OTHERS: AN ANTHOLOGY OF THE NEW VERSE _Edited by Alfred Kreymborg_ 1917 Issue TRANSCRIBER'S NOTES 1. Passages in italics are surrounded by _underscores_. 2. The words amoeba, mythopoeic and prosopopoeia use "oe" ligature in the original text. 3. The following misprints have been corrected: "blackslides" corrected to "backslides" (page 40) "annhilated" corrected to "annihilated" (page 119) 4. Other than the corrections listed above, printer's inconsistencies in spelling, punctuation, hyphenation, and ligature usage have been retained. 
32006	----	_THE EXPOSITOR'S LIBRARY_ MODERN SUBSTITUTES FOR CHRISTIANITY BY THE VERY REV. PEARSON McADAM MUIR D.D. MINISTER OF GLASGOW CATHEDRAL CHAPLAIN IN ORDINARY TO THE KING _Christus vincit, Christus regnat, Christus imperat_ HODDER AND STOUGHTON LONDON -- NEW YORK -- TORONTO First Published . . . December 1909 Second Edition . . . October 1912 IN MEMORIAM S. A. M. JUNE 3, 1847. OCTOBER 5, 1871 FEBRUARY 12, 1907 {vii} CONTENTS I PAGE POPULAR IMPEACHMENTS OF CHRISTIANITY . . . . . 1 II MORALITY WITHOUT RELIGION . . . . . . . . . . 31 III THE RELIGION OF THE UNIVERSE . . . . . . . . . 63 IV THE RELIGION OF HUMANITY . . . . . . . . . . . 91 {viii} V THEISM WITHOUT CHRIST . . . . . . . . . . . . 125 VI THE TRIBUTE OF CRITICISM TO CHRIST . . . . . . 171 APPENDICES . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 219 AUTHORITIES CONSULTED . . . . . . . . . . . . 257 INDEX . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 265 {2} I POPULAR IMPEACHMENTS OF CHRISTIANITY 'Why call ye Me Lord, Lord, and do not the things which I say?'--S. LUKE vi. 46. 'The name of God is blasphemed among the Gentiles through you.'--ROMANS ii. 24. 'What if some did not believe? shall their unbelief make the faith of God without effect?'--ROMANS iii. 3. 'By reason of whom the way of truth shall be evil spoken of.'--2 S. PETER ii. 1. 'So is the will of God, that with well-doing ye may put to silence the ignorance of foolish men.'--1 S. PETER ii. 15. {3} I POPULAR IMPEACHMENTS OF CHRISTIANITY That there is at present a widespread alienation from the Christian Faith can hardly be denied. Sometimes by violent invective, sometimes by quiet assumption, the conclusion is conveyed that Christianity is obsolete. Whatever benefits it may have conferred in rude, unenlightened ages, it is now outgrown, it is not in keeping with the science and discovery of modern times. 'The good Lord Jesus has had His day,'[1] is murmured in pitying condescension towards those who still suffer themselves to be deceived by the antiquated superstition. The statements in which our forefathers embodied the relations {4} between God and man are no longer, except by a very few, considered adequate; and there is everywhere a demand that those statements should be recast. Is not all this an irresistible proof that the beliefs of the Church have been abandoned, that the old notions of the Divine care, the spiritual world, the everlasting life, cannot be maintained, must be relegated to the realm of imagination? The blessings with which Christianity is commonly credited spring from other sources: the evils with which society is infected are its result, direct or indirect. I Such accusations, it may occur to us, cannot be made seriously: they bear their refutation in the very making; they cannot be propounded with any expectation of being accepted. This may seem self-evident to us: it is not self-evident to multitudes of eager, {5} earnest men. The accusations are persistently made by vigorous writers and impassioned speakers, and are received as incontrovertible propositions. However astonishing, however painful, it may be for us to hear, it is well that we should know, what, in largely circulated books and periodicals, and in mass meetings of the people, is said about the Faith which we profess, and about us who profess it. Listen to some of the terms in which Christianity is impeached. 'I undertake,' says Mr. Winwood Reade, 'I undertake to show that the destruction of Christianity is essential to the interests of civilisation; and also that man will never attain his full powers as a moral being, until he has ceased to believe in a personal God, and in the immortality of the soul. Christianity must be destroyed.'[2] 'The hostile evidence,' says Mr. Philip {6} Vivian, 'appears to be overwhelming. Christianity cannot be true. Provided that we see things as they really are, and not as we wish them to be, we cannot but come to this conclusion. We cannot get away from facts. Modern knowledge forces us to admit that the Christian Faith cannot be true.'[3] 'I want,' exclaims Mr. Vivian Carey, who has apparently, like Lord Herbert of Cherbury, received a revelation to prove that no revelation has been given, 'I want to destroy the fetich of centuries and to instil in its place a life of duty, and of faith in God and man, and I believe there is a power that has impelled me to attempt this task.... A system that has produced such results must be essentially bad.... It will not be difficult to create a faith and a religion that will serve the needs of humanity, where Christianity has so deplorably failed.'[4] {7} 'If Christianity,' argues Mr. Charles Watts, 'were potent for good, that good would have been displayed ere now.... The ties of domestic affection, the bonds of the social compact, the political relations of rulers and ruled, all have surrendered themselves to its influence. Yet with all these advantages, it has proved unable to keep pace with a progressive civilisation.'[5] 'In a really humane and civilised nation,' Mr. Robert Blatchford contends, 'there should be and need be no such thing as Ignorance, Crime, Idleness, War, Slavery, Hate, Envy, Pride, Greed, Gluttony, Vice. But this is not a humane and civilised nation, and never will be while it accepts Christianity as its religion. These are my reasons for opposing Christianity.'[6] 'Christianity,' he iterates and reiterates, 'is not true.'[7] 'Onward, ye children of the new Faith!' {8} exultantly cries Mr. Moncure D. Conway. 'The sun of Christendom hastes to its setting, but the hope never sets of those who know that the sunset here is a sunrise there!'[8] Such is the manner in which the downfall of Christianity is now proclaimed. And the impression is prevalent that, though in all ages Christianity has been the object of doubt and of scorn, yet never has it been rejected with such intensity of hatred as now, never have keen criticism and deep earnestness, wide learning and shrewd mother-wit been so combined in the attack. It is not merely the reckless, the dissolute, the frivolous who turn away from its reproofs, seeking excuses for their self-indulgence, but it is the thoughtful, the austere, the high-principled, the reverent, the unselfish, who are engaged in a crusade against all that we, as Christians, hold dear. 'To the old spirit of mockery, coarse or refined, to the old wrangle of argument, {9} also coarse or refined, has succeeded the spirit of grave, measured, determined negation.'[9] Men whose integrity and elevation of character are beyond suspicion, take their places among the rebels against the authority of Christ. They are fighting, they assert, not for the removal of a check to their vices, but for the introduction of a nobler ideal. In the demolition of Christianity, in the sweeping away of every vestige of religious belief, religious custom, religious hope, they imagine themselves to be conferring inestimable benefits upon mankind. Christianity, in their view, is the product of delusion and the buttress of all social ills. II The contrast which so many are drawing between the present and the past is not a little exaggerated. There have been few periods in which Christianity has not been the {10} object of animadversion and attack, in which its speedy downfall has not been confidently predicted. It was two hundred years ago that Dean Swift wrote _An Argument to prove that the Abolishing of Christianity in England may, as things now stand, be attended with some Inconveniences, and perhaps not produce those many good effects proposed thereby_': the Dean, with scathing sarcasm, ridiculing at once the conventional customs by which Christianity was misrepresented, and the supercilious ignorance which assumed that it was extinct.[10] It was about a quarter of a century later that Bishop Butler, in the advertisement to his _Analogy of Religion to the Constitution and Course of Nature_, stated, 'It is come, I know not how, to be taken for granted by many persons that Christianity is not so much as a subject of inquiry, but that it is now, at length, discovered to be fictitious. And accordingly they treat it as if, {11} in the present age, this were an agreed point among all people of discernment; and nothing remained but to set it up as a principal subject of mirth and ridicule, as it were, by way of reprisals for its having so long interrupted the pleasures of the world.' And the Bishop drily gave as the aim of the _Analogy_: 'Thus much, at least, will be here found, not taken for granted but proved, that any reasonable man who will thoroughly consider the matter, may be as much assured as he is of his own being, that it is not, however, so clear a case that there is nothing in it.' The assumption that Christianity is a thing of the past can hardly be more prevalent now than it was then; and the groundlessness of the assumption then may lead to the conclusion that the assumption is equally groundless now. Since the days of Butler or of Swift, the progress of Christianity has not ceased: its developments of thought and {12} life have been among the most remarkable in its whole career. The exultation over its decay in the twentieth century may possibly be found as premature and as vain as the exultation over its decay in the eighteenth century, or in any of the centuries which have gone before. III The most popular impeachments of Christianity are mainly these. It is a mass of false and superstitious beliefs long exploded. It is the opponent of progress and inquiry, the discoveries of science having been made in direct defiance of its teaching and its influence. It is the champion of oppression and tyranny. It aims at keeping the poor in ignorance and destitution. It prostrates itself before the rich and seeks the patronage of the great. It so insists on people being absorbed in {13} the thought of heaven that it practically precludes them from doing any good on earth. It is a system of selfishness, inculcating the dogma that no one need care for anything except the salvation of his own soul.[11] It is the foster-mother of all the evil and misery by which society is distressed. Dishonesty, cruelty, slavery, war, persecution, avarice, drunkenness, vice, would seem to be its natural fruits. 'How calm and sweet the victories of life,' shrieked Shelley in one of his early poems. 'How terrorless the triumph of the grave ... ... but for thy aid Religion! but for thee, prolific fiend, Who peoplest earth with demons, hell with men, And heaven with slaves! Thou taintest all thou look'st upon!'[12] What shall we say to these accusations? Christians have been credulous and superstitious, have argued and acted as if only in {14} the abnormal and exceptional could the Divine Presence be found, as if God were a hard Taskmaster and capricious Tyrant. They have resisted progress and inquiry, blindly refusing to see the light which was streaming upon them. They have unquestionably been guilty of miserable pride towards inferiors in wealth or in station, and guilty of miserable sycophancy towards the rich and the powerful. Christians have too frequently neglected the material well-being of the community, have suffered disgraceful outward conditions to remain without protest, have not striven to shed abroad happiness and brightness in squalid and wretched lives. Christians have been art and part in fostering such conditions as wrung from compassionate and indignant hearts the _Song of the Shirt_ and the _Cry of the Children_. Christians have imagined that correctness of belief would make up for falseness of heart, and loudness of profession for depravity of {15} practice. Christians have supposed that in religion all that has to be striven for is the salvation of one's own soul, have even represented the joy of the redeemed as heightened by a contemplation of the torments of the lost. Christians must bear the responsibility of much of the abounding vice which they have not earnestly tried to combat where it already exists, and which, in various forms, they have introduced into regions where it was unknown before. Lawlessness and degradation in the slums, fraud and dishonesty in trade, gross revelations in the fashionable world; bigotry, slander, scandals in the ecclesiastical world; plots, wars, treacheries, assassinations, in the political world: these things ought not so to be. The fiercest denunciations, the most withering satires, which unbelievers have employed, do not exceed in intensity of condemnation the judgment which Christian preachers and Christian writers have pronounced.[13] {16} In all ages of the Church the most powerful weapon against Christianity has been the example of Christians. The Faith which they nominally hold has been judged by the lives which they actually lead.[14] 'Christianity,' said a bishop of the eighteenth century, 'would perhaps be the last religion a wise man would choose, if he were guided by the lives of those who profess it.'[15] But is this to admit that the hope of the world lies in renouncing Christianity? that in confining ourselves to the seen and the temporal, we shall best elevate mankind? that the prospect of annihilation and the absence of wisdom, love, and Providence in the order of the universe constitute the most glorious gospel which can be proclaimed? Nothing of the kind. It is only proved that many Christians are not acting according to their belief, that their practice does not square with their {17} profession. The belief and the profession are not proved to be wrong and bad. It would be unreasonable to argue that, because a man who has been vehemently sounding the praises of truthfulness is convicted of deliberate lying, therefore truthfulness is shown to be worthless. It is equally unreasonable to identify Christianity with everything to which it is most definitely opposed, to represent it as the enemy of everything which it was intended to maintain, and then to conclude that Christianity is discredited.[16] As we should argue from the detection of a liar, not that lying is right, but that he should return to the ways of truth, so we should argue from the lives of Christians who live in flagrant contradiction to the precepts of our Lord and His Apostles, not that the precepts should be rejected, but that they should be kept; not that Christianity should be abolished, but that it should be obeyed. {18} Christians have created prejudice, hatred, against Christianity, but it is not Christianity which they have been exhibiting. We repudiate the hideous travesty which they have made, the hideous travesty which is credulously or maliciously accepted by assailants as a correct representation. Christianity is not a religion of darkness and superstition: it calls to its disciples 'Be children of light: prove all things: hold fast that which is good.' Christianity does not sycophantishly court the rich and despise the poor: it tells the stories of the Rich Man and Lazarus, and of the Rich Fool, and it declares 'Ye cannot serve God and Mammon.' Christianity does not teach that the life which a man leads is of less consequence than the belief which he professes: it demands, 'Why call ye Me, Lord, Lord, and do not the things which I say?' Christianity is not selfish, is not a system which inculcates the saving of one's own soul as the first and last of duties: {19} 'He that loveth his life shall lose it. Bear ye one another's burdens, and so fulfil the law of Christ. By this shall all men know that ye are My disciples if ye have love one to another.' It is surely reasonable to demand that Christianity shall be judged, not by its misrepresentations, but by what it is in itself, not as it has been perverted by bitter enemies, or by false disciples, but as it is proclaimed and manifested in its Author and Finisher. IV In the face of such tremendous indictments, what is the duty incumbent on us who profess and call ourselves Christians? Certainly not that we should abjure the name, but that we should remember what the name signifies. We ought to consider our ways, to give ourselves to self-examination. There must be something amiss when such hideous portraits can be painted with any expectation of their being taken as correct likenesses. It is right {20} that we should repel with indignation the ludicrous and intolerable caricatures which are presented as our belief, the unwarrantable consequences which are deduced from it. It is right that we should remove misapprehensions and refute calumnies; but, above all it is necessary that we should take heed to our own conduct and our own character. The scandals which we have so much reason to deplore owe their existence, not to Christianity, but to the absence of Christianity. And the very sneers which greet any departure from rectitude or morality on the part of a professing Christian prove that such a departure is not a manifestation, but a renunciation of Christianity, that what is expected of Christians is the highest and the best that human nature can produce. 'If,' argues Mr. Blatchford, 'if to praise Christ in words and deny Him in deeds be Christianity, then London is a Christian city and England is a Christian nation. For it is {21} very evident that our common English ideals are anti-Christian, and that our commercial, foreign, and social affairs are run on anti-Christian lines.'[17] As Mr. Blatchford's life is spent in deploring the baseness of 'our common English ideals,' and in exposing the iniquity of the methods in which 'our commercial, foreign, and social affairs' are conducted, the logical inference would seem to be that, as anti-Christian ideals and anti-Christian lines have so signally failed, it might be well to give Christian ideals and Christian lines a trial. 'In a really humane and civilised nation,' Mr. Blatchford maintains, 'there should be, and there need be, no such thing as Poverty, Ignorance, Crime, Idleness, War, Slavery, Hate, Envy, Pride, Greed, Gluttony, Vice. But,' he continues his curious argument, 'this is not a humane and civilised nation, and never will be while it accepts Christianity as its religion. These,' {22} so he adds as an irresistible conclusion, 'these are my reasons for opposing Christianity.'[18] Very good reasons, if Christianity taught such a creed and encouraged such a morality. But that any human being should give such a description of the purpose of Christian Faith indicates either that the describer is swayed by blindest prejudice or else that no genuine Christian has ever crossed his path. 'What if some do not believe? shall their unbelief make the faith of God of none effect? God forbid: yea, let God be true, but every man a liar.' Truth continues to be truth, though people who talk much about it may be false. Goodness continues to be goodness, though people who sing its praises may be thoroughly depraved. Generosity does not cease to be generosity, though its beauty should be extolled by a miser. Courage does not cease to be courage, though its heroism should be extolled by a coward. Temperance {23} is temperance, though we should be assured of the fact by the thick speech of a drunkard. The virtue is admirable, even when those who acknowledge how admirable it is do not practise it. That Christianity towers so far above the attainments of its average disciples, nay, above the attainments of its saintliest, is itself a kind of evidence of its divine origin. 'When the King of the Tartars, who was become Christian,' says Montaigne, 'designed to come to Lyons to kiss the Pope's feet, and there to be an eyewitness of the sanctity he hoped to find in our manners, immediately our good S. Louis sought to divert him from his purpose: for fear lest our inordinate way of living should, on the contrary, put him out of conceit with so holy a belief. And yet it happened quite otherwise to this other, who going to Rome to the same end, and there seeing the dissolution of the Prelates and people of that time, settled {24} himself so much the more firmly in our religion, considering how great the force and dignity of it must necessarily be that could maintain its dignity and splendour amongst so much corruption and in so vicious hands.' God's truth abides whether men receive it or deny it. Christ is the Way, the Truth, and the Life, though every so-called Christian should become apostate. The woes of the world are to be cured by more Christianity, not by less; and on us, in whose hands have been placed its holy oracles, rests the responsibility of proving its inestimable advantage ourselves and of conferring it on all mankind. Wherever Christianity has really flourished, untold blessings have been the result.[19] With all the sad deficiencies and sadder perversions by which its course has been chequered, no influence for good can be compared with it in elevating character, in diffusing peace and {25} goodwill, in fitting men to labour and to endure. The diffusion of the spirit of Christianity is a synonym for the diffusion of all that tends to the true well-being of the world. Only as genuine Christianity, the Christianity of Christ, prevails, will mankind be morally and spiritually lifted into a higher sphere. Put together the wisest and most ennobling suggestions of those who regard Christianity as obsolete and you find that it is virtually Christianity which is delineated. It is in the prevalence of principles and practices which, however they may be designated, are in reality Christian, that the salvation of society and of individuals will be found. In the absence of such principles and practices will be found the secret of ruin, disorder, dissolution, and decay. It is false Christianity against which the tornado of abuse is really directed. Where genuine Christianity appears, and is recognised as genuine, it commands respect. {26} Even the most virulent of recent assailants, who seriously considers that, until we get rid of the 'incubus of the modern Christian religion, our civilisation will so surely decay that we shall become an entirely decadent race,' and who complacently announces that 'it will not be difficult to create a faith and a religion which will serve the needs of humanity where Christianity has so signally failed,' even he is graciously pleased to allow, 'I have no quarrel with Christianity as a code of morals. The Sermon on the Mount, no matter who preached it, is quite sufficient, if its teaching was only practised instead of preached, to make this world an eminently desirable place in which to live. My quarrel is concerned with the professional promoters and organisers of religion who have made the very name of Christianity to stink in the nostrils of honest men.' In other words, it is not to Christianity, but to Christians by whom it is misrepresented, that he is opposed, and he {27} cannot refrain from granting, though surely with transparent inconsistency, that it is by the noble lives of Christians that Christianity has been so long preserved. 'It won, with its beauty and sentiment, the allegiance of many who were true and manly. And it is such as these who have raised the Gospel from the slough of infamy. It is such as these who, in the darkest ages, have perpetuated by the goodness of their lives the faith that is left to-day. It is the virtues of Christians, not the virtue of Christianity, that keeps the faith alive.'[20] The very opposite is nearer the truth. The virtues of Christians are simply the outcome of the virtue of Christianity: it is the vices of Christians which compose the deepest 'slough of infamy' into which the Gospel has ever been plunged. But from all these charges and counter-charges, it would seem to be clear that real {28} Christianity compels respect even where it is viewed with aversion, that its progress is hindered by nothing so much as by the unworthiness of its adherents, that it gains assent by nothing so much as by the manifestation of Christian lives. Will any one venture to deny that the world would be vastly improved were every one in it to be a genuine Christian, animated by Christian motives, doing Christian deeds? The revolution would be immense, indescribable: it would be the end of all evil: it would be the establishment of all good. No man's hand would be against another, all would strive together for the welfare of the whole, there would be no contention save how to excel in love and in good works. The human imagination cannot depict anything more glorious, more ennobling, than the will of God done on earth as it is done in heaven, and this is what would be if the thoughts of every heart were brought {29} into captivity to the obedience of Christ. The most splendid dreams of the most exalted visionaries would be more than fulfilled: everything true and lovely and of good report would be ratified and confirmed: everything false and vile would be changed and purified, and nothing to hurt or destroy or defile would remain. The fulfilment of that ideal is simply the universal prevalence of Christianity, the universal triumph of Christ. The systems and tendencies at which we are about to glance owe their vitality to the Faith which they attempt to supersede. They are, in so far as they are good, either tending towards Christianity or borrowing from it. The insufficiency of mere material well-being, the irresistible association of Religion with Morality, the worship of the Universe, the worship of Humanity, all are signs of the ineradicable instinct of the Unseen and Eternal, of the unquenchable thirst for the Living God; and belief in the Living {30} God finds its noblest illustration and confirmation in Him Who said, 'He that hath seen Me hath seen the Father,' in Him to whom the searching scrutiny of critical inquirers, as well as the fervid devotion of believers, bears so marvellous a witness. We hope to show not only that the abolition of Christianity might 'be attended with sundry inconveniences,' or that the assumption of there being 'nothing in' Christianity is 'not so clear a case,' but we hope to show that if, amid present perplexity and estrangement, many feel themselves obliged to go back and walk no more with Christ, we, for our part, as we hear His voice of tender reproach, 'Will ye also go away?' can only, with heartfelt conviction, give the answer, 'Lord, to whom shall we go? Thou hast the words of eternal life.' [1] Tennyson, _In the Children's Hospital_. [2] _The Martyrdom of Man_. [3] _The Churches and Modern Thought_. [4] _Parsons and Pagans_. [5] _Secularists' Manual_. [6] _God and my Neighbour_. [7] _Ibid_. [8] _Earthward Pilgrimage_. [9] Dean Church, _Pascal and other Sermons_, p. 348. [10] Appendix I. [11] Appendix II. [12] _Queen Mab_. [13] Hans Faber, _Das Christentum der Zukunft_. [14] Appendix. [15] Sir Leslie Stephen, _English Thought in the Eighteenth Century_, vol. i. p. 144 [16] Appendix IV. [17] _God and my Neighbour_. [18] _God and my Neighbour_, ch. ix. p. 197. [19] Appendix V. [20] _Parsons and Pagans_. {32} II MORALITY WITHOUT RELIGION 'I am sought of them that asked not for Me: I am found of them that sought Me not.'--ISAIAH lxv. 1. 'Not the hearers of the law are just before God, but the doers of the law shall be justified. For when the Gentiles, which have not the law, do by nature the things contained in the law, these, having not the law, are a law unto themselves; which shew the work of the law written in their hearts, their conscience also bearing witness, and their thoughts the meanwhile accusing or else excusing one another.'--ROMANS ii. 13-15. 'Strangers from the covenants of promise, having no hope and without God in the world.'--EPHESIANS ii. 12. 'The acknowledging of the truth which is after godliness.'--TITUS i. 1. {33} II MORALITY WITHOUT RELIGION That Religion and Morality have no necessary connection is a popular assumption. In books, in pamphlets, in magazines, on platforms, in ordinary conversation, it is loudly proclaimed or quietly insinuated that the morality of the future will be Independent Morality, Morality without Sanction. Morality, it is iterated and reiterated, can get on quite well without Religion: Religion is a positive hindrance to Morality. This view is, no doubt, extreme. Perhaps it is only here and there in the writings which fall into the hands of most of us, or in the circles with which most of us mingle, that the matter is stated so bluntly and so plainly. But in {34} not a few writings of wide circulation, and in whole classes of the community, the statement is made as if beyond contradiction. Even in works which we are all reading, and in companies where we daily find ourselves, the logical conclusion of arguments, the natural inference from assumptions, would be simply that extreme position. There is no use in evading the fact that if some highly popular opinions are accepted, no statement of the uselessness of Religion in any form or system can be too extreme. The mere assurance that Religion is a reality, is a benefit, is a necessity, though it may not seem a great deal to establish, though it may leave a host of problems still to solve, would be a gain to many, would sweep away the chief doubts by which they are perplexed. There need not, on our part, be any hesitation in declaring, to begin with, that Religion {35} without Morality is worthless. The attempt to keep them apart, to regard them as independent of each other, has often enough been made by nominal champions of Religion. The upholding of certain views regarding God and His relations to mankind has been considered sufficient to make up for neglect of the duties incumbent on ordinary mortals. The performance of certain rites and ceremonies has been considered an adequate compensation for the commission of deliberate crimes. Instances might easily be cited of persons engaged in villainous schemes, achieving deeds of dishonesty which will cause ruin to hundreds of innocent victims, executing plots of fiendish revenge, with little regard for human life, and no regard at all for truth, but exceedingly punctilious in attention to religious observances. One of the most cold-blooded murderers that ever disgraced the habitable globe was careful not to neglect any act of devotion, and while {36} perpetrating the most nefarious basenesses never failed to write in his diary the most pious sentiments. That kind of religion is worse than nothing, was rightly regarded as increasing the horror and loathsomeness of the monster's life. In a minor degree, we have all seen illustrations of the same incongruity, we may even have detected indications of it in ourselves, the tendency to imagine that the more we go to church or frequent the Sacraments or read the Bible, we are entitled to latitude in our conduct. There is no tendency against which we need to be more constantly on our guard, none which is more strongly, more terrifically, denounced in the Old Testament and in the New, by prophets and apostles, and by the Lord Jesus Christ Himself. Unbelievers in Christianity are perfectly right when they say that Religion without Morality is absolutely worthless. {37} II We may go further. We may admit, nay, we must vehemently maintain, that Morality without Religion is far better than Religion without Morality. Look at this man who makes no profession of Religion, but who is temperate, honest, self-sacrificing for the public good. Look at that man who made a loud profession, but who was leading a life of secret vice, who was false to the trust reposed in him, who appropriated what had been committed to his charge. Can there be any doubt, we are triumphantly asked, that of these two, the religious is inferior to the irreligious? There can be no doubt whatever, would be the reply of every well-instructed Christian. Morality without Religion is incalculably better than Religion without Morality. But what does this prove with regard to Christianity? It simply proves how eternally true is the parable {38} of our Lord: 'A certain man had two sons, and he came to the first and said, Son, go work to-day in my vineyard. He answered and said, I will not, but afterwards he repented and went. And he came to the second and said likewise. And he answered and said, I go, sir, and went not. Whether of them twain did the will of his father? They say unto Him, The first,' and our Lord confirmed the answer. III That kind of comparison between Religion and Morality is most misleading, for such 'Religion' is not Religion at all. It may be hypocrisy, it may be superstition, it may be self-deception: Christianity it is not, and never can be. The contrast is not really between Morality and Religion, but between Morality and Immorality, Falsehood, Fraud, and Wilful Imposition. Whatever else the Kingdom of God may be, it is at least {39} Righteousness: where there is no Righteousness, there can be no Kingdom of God. Whatever else Christian doctrine may be, it is at least a doctrine according to godliness, a teaching in accordance with the eternal laws of righteousness. For purposes of analysis and convenience, we may distinguish between Religion and Morality, and show them working in different spheres, but it is utterly erroneous to suppose that they can be actually divorced. In every right and rational representation of the Christian Religion, Morality is included and imbedded, otherwise it is only a maimed and mutilated Religion which is held out for acceptance. On the other hand, in all true Morality, especially in its highest and purest manifestations, Religion is present. It is possible to decry Morality. 'Mere Morality,' in the current acceptation of the phrase, may lack a good deal, may be a phase of self-righteousness, self-interest, cold calculation, {40} a keeping up of appearances before the world, but Morality itself is of a higher strain: it is the fulfilment of every duty to one's self and to one's neighbour: it implies that each duty is done from the right motive: the purer and loftier it becomes the more it encroaches on the religious domain: it is crowned and glorified with a religious sanction: it is, visible or hidden, conscious or unconscious, a doing of the will of God. Morality, to hold its own, must be 'touched by emotion,' and Morality touched by emotion is identical with Religion. To admit moral obligation in all its length and breadth, and depth and height, is to admit God.[1] IV A curious illustration of the fact that Morality, to be permanent, needs the inspiration of Religion, that Morality, at its best and purest, tends to become Religion, is {41} afforded in such a work as Dr. Stanton Coit's _National Idealism and a State Church_. Dr. Coit has for twenty years been engaged in founding ethical societies, and his high and disinterested aims need not be called in question. But the book is evidence that in order to support the lofty principles which he so earnestly expounds, he is obliged to call in the aid of principles which he imagined himself to have discarded. He begins by denying the Supernatural in every shape and form. He will have none of a personal God, or of a personal immortality. There is no higher being than Man. All trust must be shifted from supernatural to human agencies. 'Combined human foresight, the general will of organised society, assumes the rôle of Creative Providence.' 'This is, then, the presupposition of all moral judgment in harmony with which I would reconstruct the religions of the world: that no crime and no good deed that happens in this world shall {42} ever be traced to any other moral agencies than those actually inhabiting living human bodies and recognised by other human beings as fit subjects of human rights and privileges.' In other words, Morality, Morality alone, Morality without any sanction from Above, or any hope from Beyond, is the all-sufficient strength and ennoblement of man. But what is the superstructure which Dr. Stanton Coit proceeds to build upon this foundation? One would naturally expect that Prayer and Churches and Sacraments would have no place. But these are exactly what he insists on retaining; these will apparently be more important, more necessary, in the future than in the past. 'We should appropriate and adapt the materials furnished us by the rites and ceremonies of the historic Church. As the woodbird, bent on building her nest, in lieu of better materials makes it of leaves and of feathers from her breast, so may we use what is familiar, old, {43} and close at hand. It is all ours; and the homelike beauty of the Church of the future will be enhanced by the ancient materials wrought into its new forms.' So much enhanced, indeed, that most people will be inclined to tolerate the new forms simply because of the ancient materials which are allowed to remain. Among the ancient materials which Dr. Coit appropriates or adapts, prayer occupies a prominent place. And he is severe upon those, _e.g._, Comte and Dr. Congreve, who would banish petition from the sphere of worship. He delights in pointing out that, in despite of themselves, they include requests for personal blessings. Nor is prayer to be a mere aspiration or inarticulate longing of the soul. 'No mental activity can become definite, coherent, and systematic, and remain so, except it be embodied and repeated in words.... A petition that does not, or cannot, or will not, formulate itself in words, and let the lips move to shape them, and the {44} voice to sound them, and the eye to visualise them on the written or printed page, becomes soon a mere torpor of the mind, or a meaningless movement of blind unrest, or a trick of pretending to pray. Perfected prayer is always spoken.' To whom, or to what, this prayer, uttered or unexpressed, is to be offered, may be difficult of comprehension. It is not to God, as we have hitherto employed that sacred name; but Dr. Coit insists that the word 'God' shall be retained, and that we have no right to deny to this God the attribute of Personality. 'Any one who worships either a concrete social group or an abstract moral quality may justly protest against the charge that his God is impersonal: he may insist that it is either superpersonal or interpersonal, or both.' The worship of Nature appears to be discouraged, and to be considered as of comparatively little worth. 'We dare never forget that moral qualities stand to us in a {45} different dynamic relation from the grass and the stars and the sea--no effects upon us or upon these will result from petitions even of a most righteous man to them. But no one can deny that prayers to Purity, Serenity, Faith, Humanity, England, Man, Woman, to Milton, to Jesus, do create a new moral heaven and a new earth for him who thirsts after righteousness.' Leaving the name of our Lord out of the discussion, why should a prayer to Serenity have more moral influence than a prayer to the Sea? Why should a prayer to the Stars be less efficacious than a prayer to Milton, whose soul was like a star and dwelt apart? We have only to invest the stars and the sea with certain qualities evolved from our own imagination to make them as worthy of worship as either Milton or Serenity. Dr. Coit is scathing in his criticism of the Positivist prayers, whether of Comte or of Dr. Congreve: they are 'screamingly funny': 'the most monstrous {46} absurdity ever perpetrated by a really good and great man.' The epithets are possibly justified; but are they quite inapplicable to one who supposes that an invocation of the Living and Eternal God means no more than an invocation of England, or Faith, or Woman? It is only when God has become to us an abstraction that an abstraction can take the place of God. A manual of services fitted to a nation's present needs is what, according to Dr. Coit, is required to ensure the progress and triumph of the ethical movement. 'Until the new idealism possesses its own manual of religious ritual, it cannot communicate effectively its deeper thought and purpose. The moment, however, it has invented such a means of communication, it would seem inevitable that a rapid moral and intellectual advancement of man must at last take place, equal in speed and in beneficence to the material advancement which followed {47} during the last century in the wake of scientific inventions.' The ritual of ethical societies will not outwardly differ much from the ritual to be found in existing religions. Its details have yet to be arranged or 'invented.' The only things certain are that a book of prayers ought to be provided at once, and that in Swinburne's _Songs before Sunrise_ may be found an 'anthology of prayer suitable for use in the Church of Humanity,' prayers 'as sublime and quickening in melody and passion as anything in the Hebrew prophets or the Litany of the Church.' Dr. Coit does not denounce theology as theology, he even insists on being himself ranked among theologians. His readers may be surprised to learn on what doctrines he dwells with particular fondness. He laments that belief in the existence and power of the devil should be waning. 'We may not believe in a personal devil, but we must believe in a devil who acts very like a person.' {48} He predicts that teachers will more and more teach a doctrine of hell-fire. Out of kindness they will terrify by presenting the evil effects, indirect and remote, of selfish thoughts and dispositions. 'We must frighten people away from the edge of the abyss which begins this side of death.' Finally, though, of course, the word is not used in the ordinary sense, the necessity of the doctrine of the Incarnation is upheld. 'The Incarnation must for ever remain a fundamental conception of religion. Until all men are incarnations of the principle of constructive moral beneficence, and to a higher degree, Jesus will remain pre-eminent; and it is quite possible that in proportion as he is approached, gratitude to him will increase rather than diminish.' 'Even should any one ever in the future transcend him, still it will only be by him and in glad acknowledgment of the debt to him. There never can in the future be a dividing of the world into Christianity {49} and not Christianity. It will only be a new and more Christian Christianity, compatible with liberty and reason.' Thus the drift and tendency of this book bring us back, however unintentionally, to the Faith of which it appears, at first sight, to be the renunciation. It establishes irresistibly that Morality, to be living and permanent, must have religious sanction and inspiration, that we need to be delivered from the awful thraldom of evil, that the supreme realities are the things which are unseen; that prayer is the life of the soul; that public worship is a necessity; that in Christ the greatest redemptive power has been embodied, and the purest vision of the Eternal has been granted; and that, in its adaptation to human needs, its fostering of human aspirations, its ministering to human sorrows, its renewal of human penitence, its consecration of life and its hope in death, no Ethical Society yet devised gives any {50} symptom of being able to supplant the Church of Him Who said, 'Come unto Me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden and I will give you rest.' V Now, from the fact that Morality at its best assumes a religious tinge, merges itself in Religion, we may legitimately infer that, without the inspiration of Religion, Morality at its best will not long prevail.[2] 'Love, friendship,' said Sir James Fitzjames Stephen, 'good nature, kindness carried to the height of sincere and devoted affection, will always be the chief pleasures of life, whether Christianity is true or false; but Christian Charity is not the same as any of these, or all of these put together, and I think that if Christian Theology were exploded, Christian Charity would not survive it.'[3] At present, when Religion has pervaded everything with its sacred sanctions, it is easy to say that Religion {51} would not be greatly missed were it discarded, and that Morality would be unaffected. This is pure conjecture. To test its worth we should need a state of society from which every vestige of Religion had disappeared. It will not do to retain any of the beliefs or the customs which owe their origin to a sense of the Unseen and Eternal, to a sense of any Power above ourselves, ruling our destinies and instilling into our minds thoughts and desires and hopes beyond the visible and the material. If Morality, in the limited acceptation of the term, is sufficient for the elevation and welfare of mankind, it is not to be supported by any admixture of Religion: it must prove its power by itself. Religion must be utterly abolished, its every sanction must be universally rejected, its every impulse must have universally ceased before it can be contended with any measure of assurance that the world will be none the worse, may be even the better, for its vanishing. {52} If Religion is a delusion, remember what must be eliminated from our convictions. There can be no higher tribunal than that of man by which our actions can be judged.[4] A life of outward propriety is the utmost that can be demanded of us, if it is only against the wellbeing of our neighbour or the promotion of our own happiness that we can transgress. What has human law to do with our hearts? What legislation can deal with 'envy, hatred, malice, and all uncharitableness,' unless they manifest themselves in outward acts? A base, unloving, impure, acrimonious, untruthful man may crawl through life, never having been arrested, never having been sentenced to any term of penal servitude. He can stand erect before all the laws of the country and say, 'All these have I kept from my youth up.' And unless there be a higher law than the law of man, unless there be a law written on our hearts by the Finger of {53} God, unless there be One to whom, above and beyond all earthly appearances, we can mournfully declare, 'Against Thee, Thee only, have I sinned,' nothing more can be reasonably demanded. If there is nothing higher than the visible, it can be only visible results which are of any value. The giving of money to help the needy, and the giving of money in order to obtain a reputation for generosity, must stand on the same level. The widow's mite will be worth infinitely less than the shekels which come from those who devour widows' houses. If there be none to search the heart, none save poor frail fellow-mortals to whom we must give account, what an incentive to purity of motive and loftiness of aspiration is removed! But let men talk as they will, there is a conscience in them which whispers, It does matter whether our hearts as well as our actions are right; it does matter whether we have good motives, good intentions; there is a scrutiny of hearts, {54} making and to be made more fully yet; there is One before Whom, even though we have not broken the law of the land, we confess with anguish, Against Thee have I sinned and done evil in Thy sight: where I appear most irreproachable, Thine eye detecteth error: it is not the occasional trespass that I have chiefly to lament, it is the sin that is almost part and parcel of my very being, the sin that corrodes even where it does not glare, the sin that undermines even where it does not crash. VI The most thoughtful of those who have lost faith in the Living God and in fellowship with Him hereafter, look on this life with a pessimistic eye. Without trust in the Unseen and Eternal, life is worthless, an idle dream. With its harassing cares, with its petty vexations, with its turbulence and strife, its sorrows, its breaking up of old associations, its quenching the light of our {55} eyes, 'O dreary were this earth, if earth were all!' On the stage of the world, 'the play is the Tragedy Man, the hero the conqueror worm!' We cannot but extend the deepest sympathy, the warmest admiration to those who, bereft of belief and of hope, yet cling tenaciously to moral goodness.[5] 'What is to become of us,' asks the pensive Amiel, 'when everything leaves us, health, joy, affections, the freshness of sensation, memory, capacity for work, when the sun seems to us to have lost its warmth, and life is stripped of all its charms? ... There is but one answer, keep close to Duty. Be what you ought to be; the rest is God's affair.... And supposing there were no good and holy God, nothing but universal being, the law of the all, an ideal without hypostasis or reality, duty would still be the key of the enigma, the pole star of a wandering {56} humanity.'[6] Who does not see that it is the lingering faith in God which gives strength to this conviction and that, were the faith obliterated, the natural conclusion would be for the cultured, 'Vanity of vanities: all is vanity'; and for the multitudes, 'Let us eat and drink, for to-morrow we die.' 'I remember how at Cambridge,' says Mr. F. W. H. Myers of George Eliot, 'I walked with her once in the Fellows' Garden of Trinity on an evening of rainy May: and she, stirred somewhat beyond her wont, and taking as her text the three words which have been used so often as the inspiring trumpet calls of men--the words _God, Immortality, Duty_--pronounced with terrible earnestness, how inconceivable was the _first_, how unbelievable the _second_, and yet how peremptory and absolute the _third_. Never, perhaps, have sterner accents affirmed the sovereignty of impersonal and uncompromising Law. I {57} listened and night fell: her grave, majestic countenance turned toward me like a sibyl's in the gloom, and it was as though she withdrew from my grasp one by one the two scrolls of promise, and left me the third scroll only, awful with inevitable fates. And when we stood at length and parted, amid that columnar circuit of the forest trees, beneath the last twilight of starless skies, I seemed to be gazing, like Titus at Jerusalem, on vacant seats and empty halls, on a sanctuary with no presence to hallow it, and heaven left lonely of a God.'[7] Withdraw belief in a God above and in a life beyond, the only reason for obedience to Duty and Morality will be either our own pleasure, the doing what is most agreeable to ourselves; or sympathy, the bearing of others' burdens, in the hope that when we have passed away there may be some on earth who will reap the harvest which we have {58} sown; or public opinion, the views which are prevalent in a particular time in a particular region; and these reasons are hardly likely to produce a morality which will be other than that of self-indulgence, of despair, or of conventionality.[8] 'We can get on very well without a religion,' said Sir James Fitzjames Stephen, 'for though the view of life which Science is opening to us gives us nothing to worship, it gives us an infinite number of things to enjoy. The world seems to me a very good world, if it would only last. It is full of pleasant people and curious things, and I think that most men find no difficulty in turning their minds away from its transient character.' If it would only last! But it does not last: those dearer to us than ourselves are snatched away. Could anything be more selfish, more despicably base than to go about saying, All that is of no {59} consequence, so long as I meet with pleasant people and have an infinite number of things to enjoy? It is true that an infinite number of my fellow-creatures may not be enjoying an infinite number of things, may have trouble in recalling almost anything worthy of the name of enjoyment, but why should I be depressed by that? I find no difficulty in turning away my mind from the misfortunes of others. 'We can get on very well without religion.' No doubt without it some of us can have agreeable society and a variety of pleasures more or less refined; but this does not prove that religion is no loss. On the same principle, we can get on very comfortably without honesty, without sobriety, without purity, without generosity. We can get on very comfortably indeed without anything except without a heart which is intent on self-gratification, and which excludes all thought of the wants and woes of the world. 'Let us eat and drink, for {60} to-morrow we die,' is the irresistible, though rather inconsistent, conclusion of that sublime austerity which so indignantly repudiates the merest hint of reward or hope within the veil, and which so sensitively shrinks from the mercenariness of the Religion of the Cross. 'The wages of sin is death: if the wages of Virtue be dust, Would she have heart to endure for the life of the worm and the fly!'[9] What are the facts? What is the growing tendency where men think themselves strong enough to do without religious beliefs, when they have been proclaiming that the suppression of Religion will be the exaltation of a purer Morality? There are plenty of indications that the laws of Morality are found to be as irksome as the dictates of Religion. The first step is to cry out for a higher Morality, to censure the Morality of {61} the New Testament as imperfect and inadequate, as selfish and visionary. The next step is to question the restraints of Morality, to clamour for liberty in regard to matters on which the general voice of mankind has from the beginning given no uncertain verdict. The last step is to declare that Morality is variable and conventional, a mere arbitrary arrangement, which can be dispensed with by the emancipated soul. The literature which assumes that Religion is obsolete does not, as a rule, suffer itself to be much hampered by the fetters of Morality. The non-Religion of the Future is what, we are confidently told, increasing knowledge of the laws of Sociology will of necessity bring about. Should that day ever dawn, or rather let us say, should that night ever envelop us, it will mean the diffusion of non-Morality such as the world has never known.[10] [1] Appendix. [2] Appendix VI. [3] _Nineteenth Century_, June 1884. [4] Appendix VII. [5] Appendix VIII. [6] _Journal Intime_, ii. [7] _Modern Essays_. [8] Appendix IX. [9] Tennyson, _Wages_. [10] Appendix X. {64} III THE RELIGION OF THE UNIVERSE 'Whither shall I go from Thy spirit? or whither shall I flee from Thy presence.'--PSALM cxxxix. 7. 'Do I not fill heaven and earth? saith the Lord.'--JEREMIAH xxiii. 24. 'The heaven and heaven of heavens cannot contain Thee.'--1 KINGS viii. 27. 'In Him we live, and move, and have our being.'--ACTS xvii. 28. 'One God and Father of all, Who is above all, and through all, and in you all.'--EPHESIANS iv. 6. 'Of Him, and through Him, and to Him are all things: to Whom be glory for ever. Amen.'--ROMANS xi. 36. 'That God may be all in all.'--1 CORINTHIANS xv. 28. {65} III THE RELIGION OF THE UNIVERSE Among proposed substitutes for Christianity, none occupies a more prominent place than Pantheism, the identity of God and the universe. 'Pantheism,' says Haeckel, 'is the world system of the modern scientist.'[1] Pantheism, or the Religion of the Universe, is, in one aspect, a protest against Anthropomorphism, the making of God in the image of man. It is in supposing God to be altogether such as we are, to be swayed by the same motives, to be actuated by the same passions as we are, that the most deadly errors have arisen. Robert Browning, in _Caliban upon Setebos_, represents a half-brutal {66} being who lives in a cave speculating upon the government of the world, wondering why it came to be made, and what could be the purpose of the Creator in making it. Every motive that could sway the savage mind is in turn discussed: pleasure, restlessness, jealousy, cruelty, sport. 'Because I, Caliban,' such is the process of his reasoning, 'delight in tormenting defenceless animals, or would crush any one that interfered with my comfort, or do things because my taskmaster obliges me to do them, so must it be with Him Who made the world.' With great grotesqueness, but with marvellous power, the degraded monster argues as to the reasons which could have prompted the Unseen Ruler to frame the earth and its inhabitants. Everything that he attributes to God is in keeping with his own base nature. What is the explanation of the horrors which have been perpetrated in the Name of God? The sacrifice of human {67} beings, of vanquished enemies, or of the nearest and the dearest, the agonies of self-torture, did not these originate in the transference to the Invisible God of the emotions and principles by which men were guiding their own lives? They had no notion of forbearance and forgiveness and patience, therefore they did not think that there could be forgiveness with God. They were to be turned aside from their fierce, revengeful purposes by bribes and by the protracted sufferings of their foes, therefore they thought that God might be bribed by gifts or propitiated by pains. What they were on earth, delighting in bloodshed and conquest and revelry, that, they supposed, must be the Being or the Beings who ruled in the world unseen. I God is not as man is, this was a lesson which ancient prophets struggled to teach. He is not a man that He should lie, or a son {68} of man that He should repent. He is not to be conceived as influenced by the petty hopes and fears and jealousies which influence the mass of mortals. 'My thoughts are not as your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, saith the Lord. For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are My ways higher than your ways and My thoughts than your thoughts.' He is infinitely exalted above the best and wisest of His children and to see in Him only their likeness is not to see Him aright. It is not to be denied that the writers of the Old Testament employ anthropomorphic language to vivify the justice and goodness of the Eternal. They speak of His Eyes and of His Face, of His Hands and of His Arm and of His Voice. They speak of Him walking in the Garden and smelling a sweet savour. They speak of Him repenting and being jealous and coming down to see what is done on earth. Such figures, however, as a rule, have a force {69} and an appropriateness which never can become obsolete or out of date. They even heighten the Majesty and Spotless Holiness of God. They are felt to be, at most, words struggling to express what no words can ever convey: they are the readiest means of impressing on the dull understanding of men their practical duty, of letting them know with what purity and righteousness they have to do. It is not in such figures that any harm can ever lie. The error of taking literally such phrases as 'Hands' or 'Arm' or 'Voice' is not very prevalent, but the error of framing God after our moral image is not distant or imaginary. There is a mode of speaking about Divine Purposes and Divine Motives which must jar on those who have begun to discern the Divine Majesty, to whom the thought of the All-Embracing Presence has become a reality. {70} II The representation of the Almighty and Eternal as one of ourselves, as animated by the lowest passions and paltriest prejudices of mankind, as a 'magnified and non-natural' human being, is recognised as ludicrously inadequate and terribly distorted. The representation of the Creator as 'sitting idle at the outside of the Universe and seeing it go,' as having brought it into being and afterwards left it to itself, as mingling no more in its events and evolution, is utterly discarded. It is, however, to such representations that the assaults of modern critics are directed, and in the overthrow of such representations it is imagined that Christianity itself is overthrown. The assailants maintain that Christianity in attributing Personality to God makes Him in the image of man, and separates Him from the Universe. But what is meant by Personality? It does not mean a {71} being no higher than man, with the limitations and imperfections of man.[2] Mr. Herbert Spencer, who would not ascribe Personality to God, yet affirmed that the choice was not between Personality and something lower than Personality, but between Personality and something higher. 'Is it not just possible that there is a mode of being as much transcending Intelligence and Will as these transcend mechanical motion?'[3] The description of Personality given by the author of the _Riddle of the Universe_ would be repudiated by every educated Christian. 'The monistic idea of God, which alone is compatible with our present knowledge of nature, recognises the divine spirit in all things. It can never recognise in God a "personal being," or, in other words, an individual of limited extension in space, or even of human form. God is everywhere.'[4] That conclusion,--we {72} are not concerned with the steps by which the conclusion is reached,--does not strike one as a modern discovery. In what authoritative statement of Christian doctrine God is defined as _not_ being everywhere, or 'an individual of limited extension in space, or even of human form,' we are unaware. There is apparent misunderstanding in the supposition that we have to take our choice between God as entirely severed from the world, and God existing in the world. God, it is asserted in current phraseology, cannot be both Immanent and Transcendent; He cannot be both in the world and above it. 'In Theism,' so Haeckel draws out the comparison, 'God is opposed to Nature as an extra-mundane being, as creating and sustaining the world, and acting upon it from without, while in Pantheism God, as an intra-mundane being, is everywhere identical with Nature itself, and is operative within the world as "force" or {73} "energy."'[5] If there is no juggling with words here, it can hardly be juggling with words to point out that so far as 'space' goes, an intra-mundane being, rather than an extra-mundane, is likely to be 'limited in extension.' III The imagination that the Christian God is a Personality like ourselves, and is to be found only above and beyond the world, finds perhaps its strangest expression in some of the writings of that ardent lover of Nature, the late Richard Jefferies. 'I cease,' so he writes in _The Story of my Heart_, 'to look for traces of the Deity in life, because no such traces exist. I conclude that there is an existence, a something higher than soul, higher, better, and more perfect than deity. Earnestly I pray to find this something better than a god. There is something superior, higher, more good. For this I search, labour, {74} think, and pray.... With the whole force of my existence, with the whole force of my thought, mind, and soul, I pray to find this Highest Soul, this greater than deity, this better than God. Give me to live the deepest soul-life now and always with this soul. For want of words I write soul, but I think it is something beyond soul.' Could anything be more pathetic or, at the same time, more self-refuting? How can anything be greater than the Infinite, more enduring than the Eternal, better than the All-Pure and All-Perfect? It could be only the God of unenlightened, unchristian teaching, Whom he rejected. The God Whom he sought must be not only in but beyond and above all created or developed things. It was, indeed, the Higher than the Highest that he worshipped. It was for God, for the Living God, that his eager soul was athirst, and it is in God, the Living God, that his eager soul is now, we humbly trust, for ever satisfied. {75} IV 'The heaven and heaven of heavens cannot contain Him.' 'Whither shall I go from Thy Spirit? or whither shall I flee from Thy presence?' 'My thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways saith the Lord.' 'In Him we live and move and have our being.' 'Of Him and through Him and to Him are all things, to Whom be glory for ever. Amen.'[6] Now it cannot be denied that some who have striven to express after this fashion the unutterable majesty and the universal presence of God, who have endeavoured to demonstrate that God is in all things, and that all things are in God, have at times failed to make their meaning plain. Either from the obscurity of their own language, or from the obtuseness of their readers, they have been considered Atheists. While vehemently asserting that God is {76} everywhere, they have been taken to mean that God is nowhere. The actual conclusion to be drawn from the treatises of Spinoza, the reputed founder of modern Pantheism, is still undecided. But no one now would brand him with the name of Atheist. He was excommunicated by Jews and denounced by Christians, yet there are many who think that his aim, his not unsuccessful aim, was to establish faith in the Unseen and Eternal on a basis which could not be shaken. So far from denying God, he was, according to one of the greatest of German theologians, 'a God-intoxicated man.' 'Offer up reverently with me a lock of hair to the manes of the holy, repudiated Spinoza! The high world-spirit penetrated him: the Infinite was his beginning and his end: the Universe his only and eternal love.... He was full of religion and of the Holy Spirit, and therefore he stands alone and unreachable, master in his art above the profane multitude, {77} without disciples and without citizenship.'[7] Dean Stanley went so far as to say that 'a clearer glimpse into the nature of the Deity was granted to Spinoza, the excommunicated Jew of Amsterdam, than to the combined forces of Episcopacy and Presbytery in the Synod of Dordrecht.'[8] Such a judgment is rather hard upon the divines who took part in that celebrated Synod, but at any rate it indicates that the great philosopher, misunderstood and persecuted, was elaborating in his own way, this great truth, 'In him we live and move and have our being.' 'Of Him, and through Him are all things.' V In their loftiest moments, contemplating the marvels of the heavens above and the earth beneath, devout souls have, wherever they looked, been confronted with the Vision of God. 'What do I see in all {78} Nature?' said Fénelon, 'God. God is everything, and God alone.' 'Everything,' said William Law, 'that is in being is either God or Nature or Creature: and everything that is not God is only a manifestation of God; for as there is nothing, neither Nature nor Creature, but what must have its being in and from God, so everything is and must be according to its nature more or less a manifestation of God.' It is the thought which has inspired poets of the most diverse schools, which has been their most marvellous illumination and ecstasy. Now it is Alexander Pope: All are but parts of one stupendous whole Whose body Nature is, and God the soul. Now it is William Cowper: There lives and works A soul in all things and that soul is God. Now it is James Thomson of _The Seasons_: These, as they change, Almighty Father! these Are but the varied God. The rolling year Is full of Thee. {79} Now it is William Wordsworth: I have felt A Presence that disturbs me with the joy Of elevated thoughts, a sense sublime Of something far more deeply interfused, Whose dwelling is the light of setting suns, And the round ocean and the living air, And the blue sky, and in the mind of man A motion and a spirit which impels All thinking things, all objects of all thought, And rolls through all things. Now it is Lord Tennyson: The sun, the moon, the stars, the seas, the hills and the plains, Are not these, O Soul, the vision of Him Who reigns? * * * * * Speak to Him thou, for He hears, and Spirit with Spirit can meet. Closer is He than breathing and nearer than hands or feet. Certainly, we may say, nothing atheistic in utterances like these: they are the utterances of lofty thought, of profound piety, of soaring aspiration, and of childlike faith. They have a pantheistic tinge: what is there to dread in Pantheism? Not much in {80} Pantheism of that kind: would there were more of it! But it will be observable that, in the instances cited, though God is in Nature and manifesting Himself through it, there is a clear distinction between Nature and God. It may seem as if it were merely the sky, the sun, the stars, the ocean, that are apostrophised: in reality it is a Life, a Spirit, a Power not themselves, in which they live and move and have their being: not to them, but to That, are the prayers addressed. And, we venture to think, it is scarcely ever otherwise: scarcely ever is the Visible alone invoked: identify God as men will with the material universe, or even with the force and energy with which the material universe is pervaded, when they enter into communion with it, in spite of themselves they endow it with the Life and the Will and the Purpose which they have in theory rejected. But the absolute identification of God and the Universe, the assumption that above and {81} beneath and through all there is no conscious Righteousness and Wisdom and Love overruling and directing, _that_ is a belief to be resisted, a belief which enervates character and enfeebles hope.[9] 'Whoever says in his heart that God is _no more_ than Nature: whoever does not provide _behind the veil of creation_ an infinite reserve of thought and beauty and holy love, that might fling aside this universe and take another, as a vesture changing the heavens and they are changed, ... is bereft of the essence of the Christian Faith, and is removed by only accidental and precarious distinctions from the atheistic worship of mere "natural laws."'[10] 'In our worship we have to do, not so much with His finite expression in created things as with His own free self and inner reality ... all _religion_ consists in _passing Nature by_, in order to enter into direct personal relation {82} with Him, soul to soul. It is _not_ Pantheism to merge all the life of the physical universe in Him, and leave Him as the inner and sustaining Power of it all. It is Pantheism to rest in this conception: to merge Him in the universe and see Him only there: and not rather to dwell with Him as the Living, Holy, Sympathising Will, on Whose free affection the cluster of created things lies and plays, as the spray upon the ocean.'[11] VI God is _not_ as we are, and yet He _is_ as we are. God is not made in the image of man, but man is made in the image of God. It is through human goodness and human purity and human love that we attain our best conceptions of the Divine Goodness and Purity and Love. 'If ye being evil know how to give good gifts unto your children, how much more will your Heavenly Father {83} give the Holy Spirit to them that ask Him?' Picture to yourself what is highest and best in the human relationship of father and child: be sure that the Heavenly Father will not fall below, but will infinitely transcend, that standard. All the justice and goodness which we have seen on earth are the feebler reflection of His. It is by learning that the utmost height of human goodness is but a little way towards Him that we learn to think of Him at all aright. But the justice and the love by which he acts are different only in degree, and not in kind, from ours. When we think of God as altogether such as we are, we degrade Him, we have before us the image of the imperfect; when we try to think of Him under no image and to discard all figures, He vanishes into unreality and nothingness, but when we see Him in Christ, we have before us that which we can grasp and understand, and that in which there is no imperfection. {84} If there is no God but the universe, we have a universe without a God. Worship is meaningless, Faith is a mockery, Hope is a delusion. If the universe is God, all things in the universe are of necessity Divine. The distinction between right and wrong is broken down. In a sense very different from that in which the phrase was originally employed, 'Whatever is, is right.' Nothing can legitimately be stigmatised as wrong, for there is nothing which is not God. 'If all that is is God, then truth and error are equally manifestations of God. If God is all that is, then we hear His voice as much in the promptings to sin as in the solemn imperatives of Conscience. This is the inexorable logic of Pantheism, however disguised.'[12] 'I know,' says Mr. Frederic Harrison, 'what is meant by the Power and Goodness of an Almighty Creator. I know what is meant by the genius and patience {85} and sympathy of man. But what is the All, or the Good, or the True, or the Beautiful? ... The "All" is not good nor beautiful: it is full of horror and ruin.... There lies this original blot on every form of philosophic Pantheism when tried as the basis of a religion or as the root-idea of our lives, that it jumbles up the moral, the unmoral, the non-human and the anti-human world, the animated and the inanimate, cruelty, filth, horror, waste, death, virtue and vice, suffering and victory, sympathy and insensibility.'[13] Where these distinctions are lost, where this confusion exists, what logically must be the consequence? Honesty and dishonesty, truth and falsehood, purity and impurity, kindness and brutality, are put upon a level, are alike manifestations of the One or the All. It is said that in our day the sense of sin has grown weak, that men are not troubled {86} by it as once they were. There is a morbid, scrupulous remorsefulness for wrong-doing, a desponding conviction that repentance and restoration are impossible, which may well be put away. But that sin should be no longer held to be sin, that evil should be wrought and the worker experience no pang of shame, would surely indicate moral declension and decay. Were the time to come when, universally, mankind should commit those actions and cherish those passions which, through all ages in all lands, have gone by the name of sin, should become so heedless to the voice of conscience, that conscience should cease to speak, the time would have come when men, being past feeling, would devote themselves with greediness to anything that was vile, so long as it was pleasant, the bonds of society would be loosened and destruction would be at hand. The Religion of the Universe ignores the facts of life, the sorrow, the struggle, {87} the depravity, the need of redemption. Fortunately, human beings in general are still inclined to mourn because of imperfection or of baseness: still they are inclined at times to cry out, 'Who shall deliver me from the body of this death?' and still they have the opportunity of joyfully or humbly saying, 'I thank God through Jesus Christ our Lord.' 'And now at this day,' listen to the ungrudging admission of perhaps the most earnest English apostle of Pantheism, Mr. Allanson Picton: 'We of all schools, whether orthodox or heterodox so-called, whether believers or unbelievers in supernatural revelation, all who seek the revival of religion, the exaltation of morality, the redemption of man, draw, most of us, our direct impulse, and all of us, directly or indirectly, our ideals from the speaking vision of the Christ. Such a claim is justified, not merely by the spiritual power still remaining in the Church, {88} but almost as much by the tributes paid, and the uses of the Gospel teaching made in the writings of the most distinguished among rationalists.... Such writers have felt that somehow Jesus still holds, and ought to hold, the heart of humanity under His beneficial sway. Excluding the partial, imperfect and temporary ideas of Nature, spirits, hell, and heaven, which the Galilean held with singular lightness for a man of His time, they have acquiesced in and even echoed His invitation to the weary and heavy laden, to take His yoke upon them and learn of Him. And that means to live up to His Gospel of the nothingness of self, and of unreserved sacrifice to the Eternal All in All.'[14] If such is the conclusion of Rationalism and of Pantheism, how much more ought it to be the conclusion of Christianity. The imagination of a God confined to times and places, visiting the world only occasionally, {89} manifesting Himself in the past and not in the present, ought to be as foreign to the Christian Church as to any Rationalist or Pantheist. Be it ours to show that we believe in God Who filleth all things with His presence, Who is from Everlasting to Everlasting, that to us there is but one God the Father, by Whom are all things and we in Him, and one Lord, Jesus Christ, by Whom are all things and we by Him, that God has identified Himself with us in Jesus Christ, His Son. Be it ours to lose ourselves in Him. For, after all our questionings as to the government of the world, as to abounding misery and degradation, as to what lies beyond the veil for ourselves and for others, this is our hope and our confidence: 'God hath concluded all in unbelief that He might have mercy upon all. O the depth of the riches both of the wisdom and knowledge of God! how unsearchable are His judgments and His ways past finding out. For who hath {90} known the mind of the Lord? or who hath been His counsellor? or who hath first given to Him, and it shall be recompensed unto Him again? For of Him and through Him and to Him are all things: to Whom be glory for ever. Amen.' [1] _Riddle of the Universe_. [2] Appendix XI. [3] _First Principles_. [4] _Confession of Faith of a Man of Science_. [5] _Riddle of the Universe_. [6] Appendix XII. [7] Schleiermacher. [8] _St. Andrews Addresses_. [9] Appendix XIII. [10] Martineau, _Hours of Thought_, ii. p. 110. [11] Martineau, _Hours of Thought_, ii. p. 114. [12] _Faith of a Christian_. [13] _Creed of a Layman_, p. 203. [14] _Religion of the Universe_. {92} IV THE RELIGION OF HUMANITY 'And God said, Let us make man in our image, after our likeness.'--GENESIS i. 26. 'When I consider Thy heavens, the work of Thy fingers, the moon and the stars which Thou hast ordained, what is man that Thou art mindful of him? and the son of man that Thou visitest him? For Thou hast made him a little lower than the angels and hast crowned him with glory and honour.'--PSALM viii. 3-5 Thou hast put all things in subjection under His feet. For in that He put all in subjection under Him, He left nothing that is not put under Him. But now we see not yet all things put under Him. But we see Jesus Who was made a little lower than the angels for the suffering of death crowned with glory and honour, that He by the grace of God should taste death for every man.'--HEBREWS ii. 8, 9. {93} IV THE RELIGION OF HUMANITY The position which Religion, and especially the Christian Religion, assigns to man, to man as he ought to be, is very high. He is made in the image of God, he is a little lower than the angels, a little lower than God, he is a partaker of the Divine Nature. But as the corruption of the best is the worst, there is nothing in the whole creation more miserable, more loathsome, than man as he has forgotten his high estate and plunged himself into degradation. 'What man has made of man,' is the saddest, most deplorable sight in all the world. Amid the awful splendour of the winning loveliness of Nature, 'only man is vile.' That is the terrible {94} verdict which may be pronounced upon him renouncing his birthright, surrendering himself to the powers which he was meant to keep in subjection. It is not the verdict to be pronounced on Man as Man, the child of the highest and the heir of all the ages. The appeal of Religion, the appeal of Christianity above all, has continually been, O sons of men, sully not your glorious garments, cast not away your glorious crown. I It is irreligion, it is unbelief, which comes and says, Lay aside these fantastic notions as to your greatness: you are the creatures of a day: you belong, like other animals, to the world of sense, and you pass away along with them: a man hath no pre-eminence above a beast. Banish your delusive hopes; confine yourselves to reality; waste not your time in the pursuit of phantoms: make the best of the world in {95} which you are: seize its pleasures: shut your eyes to its sorrows: enjoy yourselves in the present and let the future take care of itself: follow the devices and desires of your own hearts in the comfortable assurance that there is no judgment to which you can be brought, save that which exists in the realm of imagination. Listening to such whispers, obeying such suggestions, walking in such courses, the spectacle which man presents can be viewed only with compassion, with horror, or with disdain. His ideals, his aspirations, his self-sacrifices are only so many phases of self-deception. The natural conclusion to be drawn from denying the spiritual origin and eternal prospects of man must be that he is of no more account than any of the transitory beings around him, that, if he has any superiority over them, it is only the superiority of a skill with which he can make them the instruments of {96} his purposes. With no glimpses of a higher world, with no inspirations from a Spirit nobler than his own, he can hardly regard the achievements of heroism as other than acts of madness, he can be fired with no desire to emulate them, he cannot well be trusted to perform ordinary acts of honesty and morality, let alone extraordinary acts of generosity and magnanimity, should they come in collision with his objects and ambitions. Unless above himself he can Erect himself, how mean a thing is Man! Deny his divine fellowship, extirpate his heavenly anticipations, and it might seem as if no race on earth would be so poor as do him reverence. II One thing is assumed by not a few, the absurdity of the Almighty caring for such a race, and therefore the impossibility of the Incarnation. 'Which,' asks Mr. Frederic {97} Harrison, 'is the more deliriously extravagant, the disproportionate condescension of the Infinite Creator, or the self-complacent arrogance with which the created mite accepts, or rather dreams of, such an inconceivable prerogative? His planet is one of the least of all the myriad units in a boundless Infinity; in the countless æons of time he is one of the latest and the briefest; of the whole living world on the planet, since the ages of the primitive protozoon, man is but an infinitesimal fraction. In all this enormous array of life, in all these æons, was there never anything living which specially interested the Creator, nothing that the Redeemer could care for, or die for? If so, what a waste creation must have been! ... Why was all this tremendous tragedy, great enough to convulse the Universe, confined to the minutest speck of it, for the benefit of one puny and very late-born race?'[1] {98} But is it not the fact that along with the discovery of Man's utter insignificance, there has come the discovery of powers and faculties unknown and unsuspected, so that more than ever all things are in subjection to him, his dominion has become wider, his throne more firmly established? Is it not the fact that the whole realm of Nature is explored by him, is compelled to minister to his wants or to unfold its treasures of knowledge? Is it not the fact that more than ever it can be said: The lightning is his slave: heaven's utmost deep Gives up her stars, and, like a flock of sheep, They pass before his eye, are numbered, and roll on. The tempest is his steed: he strides the air. And the Abyss shouts from her depth laid bare 'Heaven, hast thou secrets? Man unveils me: I have none.'[2] Is it not the fact that deposed from his position of proud pre-eminence as centre of the universe, Man has by his labours and his ingenuity reasserted his high prerogative {99} to be lord of the creation? The printing-press, the railway, the telegraph, how have inventions like these invested him with an influence which he did not possess before! And is it not the fact that when most conscious of our nothingness before the immensities around us, when humbled and prostrate before the Infinite of which we have caught a transitory glimpse, we are also most conscious of our high destiny, we are lifted above the earthly to the heavenly, we discern that, though we cannot claim a moment, yet Eternity is ours? 'What, then, is Man! What, then, is Man! He endures but an hour and is crushed before the moth. Yet in the being and in the working of a faithful man is there already (as all faith, from the beginning, gives assurance) a something that pertains, not to this wild death element of Time; that triumphs over Time, and _is_, and will be, when Time shall be no more.'[3] {100} Man's place in the universe may, according to Dr. Alfred Russel Wallace, be nearer the centre of things than has so commonly come to be accepted. Modern discovery, he maintains, has thrown light on the interesting problem of our relation to the Universe; and even though such discovery may have no bearing upon theology or religion, yet, he thinks, it proves that our position in the material creation is special and probably unique, and that the view is justified which holds that 'the supreme end and purpose of this vast universe was the production and development of the living soul in the perishable body of man.' And another, a convinced and ardent disciple of Evolution, the late Professor John Fiske, argues that, 'not the production of any higher creature, but the perfecting of humanity is to be the glorious consummation of Nature's long and tedious work.... Man seems now, much more clearly than ever, the chief among God's {101} creatures.... The whole creation has been groaning and travailing together in order to bring forth that last consummate specimen of God's handiwork, the Human Soul.'[4] If this be so, this conclusion arrived at by those who do not hold the ordinary faith of Christendom, then the objection that the Incarnation could not have taken place for the redemption of such a race as ours, in a world which is so poor a fraction of the infinite universe, falls to the ground; and the protest of a devout modern poet carries conviction with it: This earth too small For Love Divine! Is God not Infinite? If so, His Love is infinite. Too small! One famished babe meets pity oft from man More than an army slain! Too small for Love! Was Earth too small to be of God created? Why then too small to be redeemed?[5] Man may, or may not, occupy a 'central position in the universe': other worlds may, {102} or may not, be inhabited: this earth may be but a minute and insignificant speck amid the mighty All, this at least is certain, that not by mere magnitude is our rank in the scale of being to be decided, and that in the spirit of man will be found that which approaches most nearly to Him who is Spirit. 'The man who reviles Humanity on the ground of its small place in the scale of the Universe is,' according to Mr. Frederic Harrison, 'the kind of man who sneers at patriotism and sees nothing great in England, on the ground that our island holds so small a place in the map of the world. On the atlas England is but a dot. Morally and spiritually, our Fatherland is our glory, our cradle, and our grave.'[6] III Hence, one of the ablest attempts to supersede Christianity is that which goes by {103} the name of Positivism or the Religion of Humanity, which sets Man on the throne of the universe, and makes of him the sole object of worship. 'A helper of men outside Humanity,' said the late Professor Clifford, 'the Truth will not allow us to see. The dim and shadowy outlines of the Superhuman Deity fade slowly away from before us, and, as the mist of His Presence floats aside, we perceive with greater and greater clearness the shape of a yet grander and nobler figure, of Him who made all gods and shall unmake them. From the dim dawn of history, and from the inmost depths of every soul, the face of our Father _Man_ looks out upon us with the fire of eternal youth in His eyes, and says, "Before Jehovah was, I am." The founder of the organised Religion of Humanity was Auguste Comte, who died in the year 1857. He held that in the development of mankind there are three stages: the first, the Theological, in which {104} worship is offered to God or gods; the second, the Metaphysical, in which the human mind is groping after ultimate truth, the solution of the problems of the universe; the third, the Positive, in which the search for the illusive and the unattainable is abandoned, and the real and the practical form the exclusive occupation of the thoughts. On Sunday, October 19, 1851, he concluded a course of Lectures on the General History of Humanity with the uncompromising announcement, 'In the name of the Past and of the Future, the servants of Humanity, both its philosophical and practical servants, come forward to claim as their due the general direction of this world. Their object is to constitute at length a real Providence, in all departments, moral, intellectual, and material. Consequently they exclude, once for all, from political supremacy, all the different servants of God, Catholic, Protestant, or Deist, as being at once behindhand and {105} a source of disturbance.' All religions were banished by the truly 'uncompromising announcement': they were all condemned as futile and unreal. The best that could be said of the worship of the past was that it directed 'provisionally the evolution of our best feelings, under the regency of God, during the long minority of Humanity.' But the fact that Religion will not be banished, that it must somehow find expression, never received fuller verification. We do not dwell upon the private life of Comte, its eccentricities and inconsistencies, but this at least cannot be omitted: he practised a course of austere religious observances, he worshipped not only Humanity at large, but he paid special adoration to a departed friend such as hardly the devoutest of Roman Catholics has ever paid to the Virgin Mary. Positivism became, what Professor Huxley called it, 'Catholicism _minus_ Christianity.' Comte laid down for the guidance of his {106} disciples, who are potentially all mankind, rules which no existing religious communion can surpass in minuteness. The Supreme Object of Worship is the Great Being, Humanity, the Sum of Human Beings, past, present, and future. But as it is only too evident that too many of these beings in the past and the present, whatever may be said about the future, are not very fitting objects of worship, Humanity, the Great Being, must be understood as including only worthy members, those who have been true servants of Humanity. The emblem of this Great Being is a Woman of the age of thirty, with her son in her arms; and this emblem is to be placed in all temples of Humanity and carried in all solemn processions. The highest representatives of Humanity are the Mother, the Wife, and the Daughter; the Mother representing the past, the Wife the present, and the Daughter the future. These are in the abstract to be regarded as the guardian {107} angels of the family. To these angels every one is to pray three times daily, and the prayers, which may be read, but which must be the composition of him who uses them, are to last for two hours. Humanity, the World, and Space form the completed Trinity of the Positivist Religion. There are nine sacraments: Presentation, Initiation, Admission, Destination, Marriage, Maturity, Retirement, Transformation, Incorporation. There is a priesthood, to whom is committed the duties of deciding who may or may not be admitted to certain offices during life, of deciding also whether or not the remains of those who have been dead for seven years should be removed from the common burial-place, and interred in 'the sacred wood which surrounds the temple of humanity,' every tomb there 'being ornamented with a simple inscription, a bust, or a statue, according to the degree of honour awarded.' The priests are to receive so comprehensive {108} a training that they are not to be fully recognised till forty-two years of age. They are to combine medical knowledge with their priestly qualifications. Three successive orders are necessary for the working of the organisation: the Aspirants admitted at twenty-eight, the Vicars or Substitutes at thirty-five, and the Priests proper at forty-two. The Religion of Humanity has a Calendar, each month of twenty-eight days being in one aspect dedicated to some social relation, and in another to some famous man representing some phase of human progress: Moses, Homer, Aristotle, Cæsar, St. Paul, Gutenberg, Shakespeare. Each day of the year is dedicated to one or more great men or women, five hundred and fifty-eight in number, and the last day of the year is the Festival of All the Dead. 'Our Calendar is designed to remind us of all types of the teachers, leaders, and makers of our race: of the many modes in which the servants of Humanity {109} have fulfilled their service. The prophets, the religious teachers, the founders of creeds, of nations and systems of life: the poets, the thinkers, the artists, kings, warriors, statesmen and rulers: the inventors, the men of science and of all useful arts.... Every day of the Positivist year is in one sense a day of the dead, for it recalls to us some mighty teacher or leader who is no longer on earth.... But the three hundred and sixty-four days of the year's calendar have left one great place unfilled.... Those myriad spirits of the forgotten dead, whom, no man can number, whose very names were unknown to those around them in life, the fathers and the mothers, the husbands and the wives, the brothers and the sisters, the sturdy workers and the fearless soldiers in the mighty host of civilisation--shall we pass them by? ... It is those whom to-night we recall, all those who have lived a life of usefulness in their generation, though {110} they tugged as slaves at the lowest bank of oars in the galley of life, though they were cast unnoticed into the common grave of the outcast, all whose lives have helped and not hindered the progress of Humanity, we recall them all to-night.'[7] IV The Religion of Humanity has numbered among its adherents, in part or in whole, several celebrated persons in this country, such as Richard Congreve, Dr. Bridges, Professor Beesley, Cotter Morison, George Eliot. But at present it has no more eloquent and earnest advocate than Mr. Frederic Harrison, who, in _The Creed of a Layman_, and several other recent volumes, has passionately proclaimed its principles. For more than fifty years he has been its apostle: 'every other aim or occupation has been subsidiary and instrumental to this.'[8] It {111} is true that in some points he has retained his independence, and while those outside accuse him of fanaticism, some of his fellow-believers suspect him of heresy.[9] But he himself is assured that in the worship of Humanity he has obtained the solution of his doubts[10] and the satisfaction of his spirit, and on his gravestone or his urn he would have inscribed the words, _He found peace_.[11] There is much that is marvellously elevated in thought as well as exquisite in expression, profoundly devout as well as brilliantly argued, in the narrative of his progress towards his present position. But when his vehement statements are carefully examined, it will almost inevitably be seen that all that is good and sensible in them is an unconscious reproduction of Christianity. His negations disappear: the affirmations which he makes are those which the Church has always {112} maintained. The faith of his childhood permeates and strengthens and beautifies the creed which he adopted in his maturer years. The unity of mankind, the memory of the departed, the necessity of living for others, these are no novelties in Christianity. It is in Christ that they have specially been brought to light, in Him that they find their highest ratification, without Him they remain unfulfilled, with Him they attain to consistency and power. The Great Being, Humanity, is only an abstraction.[12] 'There is no such thing in reality,' Principal Caird reminds us, 'as an animal which is no particular animal, a plant which is no particular plant, a man or humanity which is no individual man. It is only a fiction of the observer's mind.' There is logical force as well as humorous illustration in the contention of Dean Page Roberts, that there is no more a humanity apart {113} from individual men and women than there is a great being apart from all individual dogs, which we may call Caninity, or a transcendent Durham ox, apart from individual oxen, which may be named Bovinity.'[13] Nor does the geniality of Mr. Chesterton render his argument the less telling: 'It is evidently impossible to worship Humanity, just as it is impossible to worship the Savile Club: both are excellent institutions to which we may happen to belong. But we perceive clearly that the Savile Club did not make the stars and does not fill the universe. And it is surely unreasonable to attack the doctrine of the Trinity as a piece of bewildering mysticism, and then to ask men to worship a being who is ninety million persons in one God, neither confounding the persons nor dividing the substance.'[14] Can it be doubted that the Great Being, {114} the sum of human beings, is less conceivable, less worthy of worship than the Great Being, the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ?[15] Can it be doubted that the claim of Humanity to worship is less credible if we exclude the Perfect Man, Christ Jesus, from our view? Can it be doubted that the Positivist motto, 'Live for others,' gains a force and a meaning unapproached elsewhere from the Life and Death of Him Who said, 'The Son of Man came not to be ministered unto, but to minister and to give His Life a ransom for many?' Humanity knit together in One, purified from every stain, glorious and adorable, is a lofty and inspiring idea, but nowhere has it been disclosed save in the Man Christ Jesus, the Word made Flesh, the Brightness of the Father's glory and the Express Image of His Person. {115} V Dr. Richard Congreve owns that much of the Religion of Humanity exists already in the Christian Faith, but, in one respect, he asserts that the Religion of Humanity can claim to be entirely original. 'We accept, so have all men. We obey, so have all men. We venerate, so have some in past ages, or in other countries. We add but one other term, we love.'[16] That is what distinguishes this new religion and proves its superiority to the old: its votaries have attained this new principle and mode of life: they love one another. The boldness of the claim may stagger us. We turn over the pages of the New Testament. We see that Love is the fulfilling of the Law; is the end of the commandment; is the sum of the Law and the Prophets; is placed at the very summit of Christian graces; is the bond of perfectness; {116} is manifested in a Life and a Death which, after nineteen centuries, remain without a parallel. We recall the touching legend that in his old age the Apostle S. John was daily carried into the assembly of the Ephesian Christians, simply repeating to them, over and over, the words, 'Love one another. This is our Lord's command, fulfil this and nothing else is needed.' We recall that in early centuries the sympathy and helpfulness by which Christians of all ranks and races were united called forth from heathen spectators the amazed and respectful exclamation, 'See how these Christians love one another!' Recalling these things, we cannot but be startled that, in the nineteenth century of the Christian era, a teacher should, with any expectation of being believed, have ventured to affirm that the great discovery which it has been reserved for the present day to make is that of loving one another. Ignorance of Christianity, misrepresentation {117} of Christianity, we may well call it: ignorance inconceivable, misrepresentation inconceivable: and yet, as we consider the state of Christendom, do we not see what palliates the ignorance and the misrepresentation? Have we not reason to confess that, if the commandment be not new, universal obedience to it would be new indeed? May the calm assurance that love is foreign to Christianity not startle us into the conviction that we have forgotten what, according to our Lord's own declaration, the chief feature of Christianity ought to be? 'By this shall all men know that ye are My disciples, if ye have love one to another.' VI 'How can we,' it has been well said, 'be asked to give the name of Religion of Humanity to a religion that ignores the greatest human being that ever lived, and the very source from which the Religion of Humanity {118} sprang?'[17] Man in himself, man so full of imperfections, man having no connection with any world but this, man unallied to any Power higher, nobler than himself, is this to be our God? Which is more reasonable: to set up the race of man, unpurified, unredeemed, worthless and polluted, as the object of adoration, or to maintain that 'Man indeed is the rightful object of our worship, but in the roll of ages, there has been but one Man Whom we can adore without idolatry, the Man Christ Jesus'?[18] The Religion of Humanity, so called, would have us worship Man apart from Christ Whom yet all acknowledge to be the glory of mankind, but we call on men to worship Christ Jesus, for in Him we see Man without a stain, we see our nature redeemed and consecrated, we see ourselves brought nigh to the Infinite God. We adore Humanity, but Humanity {119} in its purity: we adore Humanity, but only as manifesting in the Only Begotten Son the glory of the Eternal Father. Thus we place no garland around the vices of the human race: thus we abase, and thus we exalt: thus are we humbled to the dust, thus are we raised to the highest heavens. Apart from Christ, the magnitude of the creation may well depress and overwhelm: apart from Christ the human race is morally imperfect instead of being a fit object of blind adoration. Seeing Christ, we not only feel our inconceivable nothingness in presence of the Infinite Majesty, but we stand erect and unpresumptuously say, 'We wonder not that Thou art mindful of those for whom that Son of Man lived and died, we are in Him partakers of the Divine Nature. There thou beholdest Thine Own Image.' Made in the image of God, such is the ideal of Man that comes to us from the beginning of his history; and such is the ideal {120} that once, and once only, has been realised. '_Ecce Homo_! Behold the Man!' said Pontius Pilate, in words more full of significance than he knew, pointing to the victim of priestly hatred and popular fickleness. Behold the Man! man as he ought to be, the Image of God. Before that Divine Humanity we reverently bow, to that Divine Humanity we humbly consecrate ourselves, in fellowship with It alone we learn and manifest the true worth and dignity of Man. One writing frantically to exalt mankind and to depreciate Christianity, tells us how he sat on a cliff overhanging the seashore and gazed upon the stars, murmuring, 'O prodigious universe, and O poor ignorant, that could believe all these were made for him!' but the sight of a steamship caused him to rejoice at the triumph of Art over Nature, and to exclaim, 'If man is small in relation to the universe, he is great in relation to the earth: he abbreviates distance and time, {121} and brings the nations together.' Then he saw that man is ordained to master the laws of which he is now the slave; he believed that if man could understand this mission, a new religion would animate his life, and, in the strength of this revelation, the writer says that he sang in ecstasy to the waters and winds and birds and beasts, he felt a rapture of love for the whole human race, he resolved to preach the New Gospel far and wide, and proclaim the glorious mission of mankind.[19] On the whole the Old Gospel will be found as ennobling, as inspiring, as practical as the New. All that this new Gospel aims at, we, as Christians, already believe: and we possess a Divine Token, a Sacred Pledge which is foreign to it: we believe that a higher destiny is in store for us than even the construction of wonders of mechanical skill.[20] Stripped of all rhetoric, the conclusion of unbelief in God and Immortality can only {122} be 'Man is what he eats': the conclusion of Christianity, 'There is but one object greater than the soul, and that is its Creator.' One in a certain place testified, saying, 'What is man, that Thou art mindful of him, or the son of man that Thou visitest him? Thou madest him a little lower than the angels: Thou crownest him with glory and honour, and didst set him over the works of Thy hands: Thou hast put all things in subjection under his feet.' For in that He put all in subjection under him, He left nothing that is not put under him. But now we see not yet all things put under him. But we see JESUS Who was made a little lower than the angels for the suffering of death, crowned with glory and honour. We see Him Who is our Brother and our Forerunner within the veil; and in His Exaltation we behold our own.[21] No vision of the future can surpass that which the Christian Church {123} has cherished from the beginning, that we shall all 'come in the unity of the faith, and of the knowledge of the Son of God, unto a Perfect Man, unto the measure of the stature of the fulness of Christ ... from Whom the whole body fitly joined together and compacted by that which every joint supplieth, according to the effectual working in the measure of every part, maketh increase of the body unto the edifying of itself in love.' [1] _Creed of a Layman_, p. 67. [2] Shelley, _Prometheus Unbound_. [3] Thomas Carlyle. [4] _Man's Destiny_, p. 31, [5] Aubrey de Vere. [6] _Creed of a Layman_, p. 76. [7] Frederic Harrison, _Creed of a Layman_. [8] _Memories and Thoughts_, p. 14. [9] _Memories and Thoughts_, p. 15. [10] Appendix XIV. [11] _Creed of a Layman_. [12] Appendix XV. [13] _Some Urgent Questions in Christian Lights_. [14] _Heretics_, p. 96. [15] Appendix XVI. [16] Appendix XVII. [17] E. A. Abbott, _Through Nature to Christ_. [18] Frederick William Robertson, _Sermon on John's Rebuke of Herod_. [19] Winwood Reade, _The Outcast_. [20] Appendix XVIII. [21] Appendix XIX. {126} V THEISM WITHOUT CHRIST 'Ye believe in God, believe also in Me.'--S. JOHN xiv. 1. 'I am the Way, the Truth, and the Life: no man cometh unto the Father but by Me.'--S. JOHN xiv. 6. 'He that hath seen Me hath seen the Father.'--S. JOHN xiv. 9. 'Neither is there salvation in any other; for there is none other name under heaven given among men whereby we must be saved.'--ACTS iv. 12. 'He that abideth in the doctrine of Christ, he hath both the Father and the Son.'--2 S. JOHN 9. {127} V THEISM WITHOUT CHRIST By Theism without Christ is not meant a system like Judaism or Mohammedanism, but a modern school which maintains that faith in God becomes weakened and impaired by being associated with faith in Jesus. There are those who cling with tenacity to the first article of the Apostles' Creed, 'I believe in God the Father Almighty,' but who reject with equal fervour the second article of the Creed, 'And in Jesus Christ, His only Son, our Lord.' They resist with horror the suggestion that the world is under no overruling Providence, or that the humblest human being is not regarded with the tender love of the Infinite God: they rival the most {128} mystical worshipper in the ardour of the language with which in prayer they address the Father in Heaven, but they refuse to bow in the Name of Jesus: they go to the Father, as they think, without Him: they assert that to look to Him is virtually to look away from God. They are as hostile as we can be to the Substitutes for Christianity which we have been considering. They have no sympathy with those who loudly deny that there is a God, or with those who say that it is impossible to find out whether there is a God or not, or with those who think that the Creator and the Creation are one, that the universe is God, or with those who, not believing in any Unseen and Eternal God, insist that the proper object of the worship of mankind is man. In the proclamation of the existence of an All-Wise and All-holy Being, in the proclamation that He has made the world and rules it to its minutest detail, in the proclamation that {129} there is a life beyond the grave, they are the allies of the Christian Church. But then they go on to argue, For those who hold these doctrines, Christ is quite superfluous: to hold them in their purity Christ must be dethroned and His name no longer specially revered. Some may still wish to speak of Him as among the Great Teachers of the world, but some, in order to preserve these precious truths unmixed, decline in a very fanaticism of unbelief to assign Him even that position. I The declaration of our Lord, 'No man cometh unto the Father but by Me,' has been a chief stumbling-block and rock of offence. Are we to believe, it is asked, that only the comparatively few to whom the knowledge of Jesus Christ has come can possibly be accepted of the Father? When the words were spoken the number of His disciples was exceedingly small. Did he mean that the {130} Father could be approached only by that handful of people, that all beyond were banished from the Divine Presence and must inevitably perish? That this is what He meant both the friends and the foes of Christianity have at times been agreed in holding. The friends have imagined that they were thereby exalting the claim of Christ to be the One Mediator. It may be a terrible mystery that the vast majority of the human race should have no opportunity of believing in Him, should be even unacquainted with His Name. We can only bow before the inscrutable decree, and strive with all our might, not only that our own faith may be deepened, but that the knowledge of Christ may be diffused over all the earth, so that some here and there may be rescued. There is little wonder that such a view should have given rise to questionings and opposition, should have been rejected as inconsistent with mercy and with justice. It is an {131} interpretation on which hostile critics have laid stress as incontestably proving the narrowness and bigotry of the Christian Creed. If we bear in mind Who it is that is presumed to say, 'No man cometh unto the Father but by Me,' the misconception disappears. It is not merely an individual man, separate from all others, giving Himself out as a wise and infallible Teacher. He Who makes the stupendous claim is One Who by the supposition embodies in Himself Human Nature in its perfection, Who is identified with His brethren, Who says, 'He that hath seen Me hath seen the Father.' The Life which He manifests is the Life of God. He is set forth as the Way to the Father: in mercy and in blessing the Way is disclosed in Him: it is not in harsh and rigid exclusiveness that He speaks, debarring the mass of mankind: it is in tender comprehensiveness, inviting all without distinction of race or circumstance, opening a new {132} and living way for all into the Holiest. It is the breaking down of all barriers between man and man, between man and God, not the setting up of another barrier high and insurmountable. When Christ declares 'No man cometh unto the Father but by Me,' He is not declaring that the way is difficult and impassable, He is pointing out a way of deliverance which all may tread. So far from laying down a hard and burdensome dogma to be accepted on peril of pains and penalties, He is imparting a hope and a consolation in which all may rejoice. If we believe Him to be the Word of God made Flesh, if we see in Him the Brightness of the Father's glory, it becomes a truism to say that only through Him can life and healing be imparted to mankind. When He Himself says, 'I am the Way, the Truth and the Life,' it is natural for Him to add, 'No man cometh unto the Father but by Me.' It will {133} be granted by all who believe in God that, apart from God, no soul of man can have life eternal. The most strenuous advocate of the salvation of the virtuous heathen will grant that their salvation does not descend from the idol of wood and stone before which they grovel. It is from the True God, the Living God, that the blessing proceeds. It is His touch, His Spirit, His Presence which has consecrated the earnest though erring worship of the poor idolater. No one who believes in the Infinite and Eternal God could possibly say that the monstrous image whose aid is invoked by the devout heathen is itself the answerer of his prayer, the cause of his deliverance from sin, the bestower of immortality upon him. The utmost that can be said is that in the costly sacrifices, the painful penances, the passionate prayers which he presents to the object of his adoration, the Almighty Love discerns a longing after something nobler and better, {134} and accepts the service as directed really, though unconsciously, to Him. The feeble hands and helpless, Groping blindly in the darkness, Touch God's right hand in that darkness And are lifted up and strengthened.[1] But it is the hand of God that they touch. It is from the One Omnipotent God that every blessing comes: it is the One Omnipotent God Who turns to truth and life and reality every sincere and struggling and imperfect attempt to serve Him on the part of those who know not His Nature or His Name. And what is true of God is equally true of Christ, the manifestation of God. Only grant Him to be the Incarnate Word of God, and it becomes plain that salvation can no more exist apart from Him than apart from the Father. This Word of God is the Light that lighteth every man. Whatever truth, whatever knowledge of the Divine, anywhere {135} exists is the result of that illumination. The sparks which shine even in the darkness of heathendom betoken the presence of that Light, not wholly extinguished by the folly and ignorance of man. That is the One Sun of Righteousness which gives light everywhere, though in many places the clouds are so dense that the beams can scarcely penetrate. Now, if that Word has become Flesh, if that Light has become embodied in Human Form, we are still constrained to say, There is no true Light but His, it is in His Light that all must walk if they would not stray, there is no Guide, no Deliverer, save Him. Christ discloses, brings to view, all the saving health which has ever been, all the power of restoring, cleansing, healing, which has ever worked in the souls of men. The one Power by which any human being, in any age or in any land, has ever been fitted for the presence of the All Holy God, is made manifest in Christ. 'Neither is there {136} salvation in any other, for there is none other name under heaven given among men whereby we must be saved.' We need have no hesitation in asserting that all who in any age or in any land, or in any religion, have come to the Father must have come through the Son of Man, the Eternal Word made Flesh. We do not contend, as has too frequently been contended, that beyond the limits of Christianity, beyond, it may be, the limits of one section of Christianity, there is no truth believed, no acceptable service rendered. We hail with gratitude the lofty thoughts and the noble achievements of some who do not in word acknowledge Christ as Lord. In the vision of the Light that lighteth every man, we see How light can find its way To regions farthest from the fount of day.[2] 'Now,' as is well said by the present Bishop {137} of Birmingham, who will hardly be accused of any tendency to minimise the claims of Christianity, 'this is no narrow creed. Christianity, the religion of Jesus, is the Light: it is the one final Revelation, the one final Religion, but it supersedes all other religions, Jewish and Pagan, not by excluding, but by including all the elements of truth which each contained. There was light in Zoroastrianism, light in Buddhism, light among the Greeks: but it is all included in Christianity. A good Christian is a good Buddhist, a good Jew, a good Mohammedan, a good Zoroastrian; that is, he has all the truth and virtue that these can possess, purged and fused in a greater and completer light. Christianity, I say, supersedes all other religions by including these fragments of truth in its own completeness. You cannot show me any element of spiritual light or strength which is in other religions and is not in Christianity. Nor can you {138} show me any other religion which can compare with Christianity in completeness of light: Christianity is the one complete and final religion, and the elements of truth in other religions are rays of the One Light which is concentrated and shines full in Jesus Christ our Lord.'[3] II From whatever cause, whether as a reaction against the mode in which this great truth has been at times presented, there have been, and there are, attempts to supersede Christianity because of its narrowness. Religion must not be identified with any one name: God manifests Himself to all, and no Mediator is needed. Theism, therefore, the worship of the One Almighty and Eternal Being, not Christianity, in which a Human Name is associated with the Divine Name, can alone pretend to be the Universal Religion, the {139} Religion of all Mankind. It is not the first time that such an attempt to do without Christianity and to do away with it has been made. In the eighteenth century there was a similar movement. To this day at Ferney, near Geneva, is preserved the chapel which Voltaire erected for the worship of God, of God as distinguished from Christ as Divine or as Mediator between God and man. Voltaire thought that he could overthrow and crush the Faith of Christ, but he none the less erected a temple to God. The Deists upheld what they called the Religion of Nature and repudiated Revelation. _Christianity not Mysterious; Christianity as old as the Creation_, were among the works issued to show the superiority of Natural Religion, its freedom from difficulties, its agreement with reason, its universality. The most enduring memorial of the controversy is Bishop Butler's _Analogy of Religion to the Constitution and Course of Nature_, {140} in which it was argued that the Natural Religion of the Deists was beset by as many difficulties as the Revelation of the Christians, that those who were not hindered from believing in God by the problems which Nature presented need not be staggered by the problems which were presented by Christianity. Bishop Butler's argument was directed against a special set of antagonists, an argument, it may be said, of little avail against the scepticism of the present day. The argument seems to have been unanswerable by those to whom it was addressed. The grounds on which they rejected the Revelation of Christ were shown to be inadequate. When they accepted this or that article of Natural Religion, they had accepted what was as difficult of belief as this or that part of the Revelation which they rejected. The mysteries which existed in the religion with which they would have nothing to do were in harmony with the {141} mysteries which existed in the religion which they declared to be necessary for the welfare of society. That retort may be made with even more effect to those who so far occupy that same ground to-day. They rejoice to believe that there is a God, that He is not far off, that He communicates Himself to their souls, that the love which we bear to one another is but a faint image of the love which He bears to us, that the noblest qualities which exist in us exist more purely, more gloriously in Him, that we are in very deed His children and are called to manifest His likeness. It is by prayer, both in public and in private, both in congregations and alone with the Alone, that His Love and His Help can be comprehended and used. He is no absent God: His Ear is not heavy that it cannot hear, nor His arm shortened that it cannot save. With this belief we, as Christians, have no dispute: we gladly go along with Theists in asserting it: we {142} only wonder at their unwillingness to go along with us a little further. For if God be such as they glowingly depict Him, if our relations to Him be such as they esteem it our greatest dignity to know, there is nothing antecedently impossible in the thought that One Man has heard His Voice more clearly, has surrendered to His Will more entirely, than any other in the history of the ages and the races of mankind: nothing antecedently impossible in the thought that to One Man His Truth has been conveyed more brightly, more fully than to any other; that in One Man the lineaments of the Divine Image may be seen more distinctly than in any other. If God be such, and if our relations to God be such, as Theists describe, why should they shrink with distrust or with antipathy from a Son of Man Who has borne witness to those truths in His Life and in His Death with a steadfastness of conviction which none other has ever surpassed; Who, according {143} to the records which we possess of Him, habitually lived to do the Father's Will and died commending His Spirit into the Father's Hands: a Son of Man Who could truly be said to be in heaven while He was on earth? If God be such, and our relations to God be such, as Theists describe, would not that Son of Man be the confirmation of their thoughts? Would not His testimony be of infinite value on their side? Would He Himself not be the radiant illustration, the eagerly longed for proof of the truth for which they contend? They believe in God: why should it, on their own showing, be so hard to believe in Christ? III The Theism of the nineteenth and twentieth centuries is in some respects different from the Deism of the eighteenth. It is not so cold, the God in whom it believes is not so distant from His creatures. But it is not {144} less vehement in its depreciation of Christianity as a needless and even harmful addition to the Religion of Nature. Conspicuous among the advocates of this modern Theism have been Francis William Newman, Miss Frances Power Cobbe, and the Rev. Charles Voysey. Francis Newman, in his youth, belonged, like his brother the famous Cardinal, to the strictest sect of Evangelicals, but, like the Cardinal also, drifted away from them, though in a totally different direction.[4] As he found the untenableness of certain views which he had cherished, the insufficiency of certain arguments which he had employed, he came with much anguish of mind to the conclusion that the whole fabric of historical Christianity was built upon the sand. He rapidly renounced belief after belief, and caused widespread distress and dismay by a crude attack upon the moral perfection of {145} our Lord. His conviction that Christianity had nothing special to say for itself, and that one religion was as good as another, seems to have been mainly brought about by a discussion which he had with a Mohammedan carpenter at Aleppo. 'Among other matters, I was particularly desirous of disabusing him of the current notion of his people that our Gospels are spurious narratives of late date. I found great difficulty of expression, but the man listened to me with much attention, and I was encouraged to exert myself. He waited patiently till I had done and then spoke to the following effect: "I will tell you, sir, how the case stands. God has given to you English many good gifts. You make fine ships, and sharp penknives, and good cloth and cottons, and you have rich nobles and brave soldiers; and you write and print many learned books (dictionaries and grammars): all this is of God. But there is one thing that God has withheld {146} from you and has revealed to us; and that is the knowledge of the true religion by which one may be saved."'[5] But although Newman was led to give up Christianity, and practically to hold that one religion was as good as another, he clung tenaciously to what he supposed to be common to all religions, belief in God, a belief deep and ardent. The rationalism of the Deists did not approve itself to him. 'Our Deists of past centuries tried to make religion a matter of the pure intellect, and thereby halted at the very frontier of the inward life: they cut themselves off even from all acquaintance with the experience of spiritual men.'[6] He nourished his soul with psalms and hymns: he sought communion with God. He saw the weakness of Morality without the inspiring power of Religion. 'Morals can seldom gain living energy without the impulsive force derived from Spirituals.... However {147} much Plato and Cicero may talk of the surpassing beauty of virtue, still virtue is an abstraction, a set of wise rules, not a Person, and cannot call out affection as an existence exterior to the soul does. On the contrary, God is a Person; and the love of Him is of all affections by far the most energetic in exciting us to make good our highest ideals of moral excellence and in clearing the moral sight, so that that ideal may keep rising. Other things being equal (a condition not to be forgotten) a spiritual man will hold a higher and purer morality than a mere moralist. Not only does Duty manifest itself to him as an ever-expanding principle, but since a larger and larger part of Duty becomes pleasant and easy when performed under the stimulus of Love, the Will is enabled to concentrate itself more on that which remains difficult and greater power of performance is attained.'[7] Where shall we find a more {148} vivid or more spiritual description of the rise and progress of devotion in the soul than in the words of this man, who placed himself beyond the pale of every Christian communion? 'One who begins to realise God's majestic beauty and eternity and feels in contrast how little and transitory man is, how dependent and feeble, longs to lean upon him for support. But He is _outside_ of the heart, like a beautiful sunset, and seems to have nothing to do with it: there is no getting into contact with Him, to press against Him. Yet where rather should the weak rest than on the strong, the creature of the day than on the Eternal, the imperfect than on the Centre of Perfection? And where else should God dwell than in the human heart? for if God is in the universe, among things inanimate and unmoral, how much more ought He to dwell with our souls! and they, too, seem to be infinite in their cravings: who but He can satisfy them? Thus a restless {149} instinct agitates the soul, guiding it dimly to feel that it was made for some definite but unknown relation towards God. The sense of emptiness increases to positive uneasiness, until there is an inward yearning, if not shaped in words, yet in substance not alien from that ancient strain, "As the hart panteth after the water-brooks, so panteth my soul after Thee, O God; my soul is athirst for God, even for the Living God."'[8] Mr. Newman, in his later days, we understand, had modified the bitterness of his opposition to historical Christianity and was ready to avow himself as a disciple of Christ. Miss Frances Power Cobbe was another devout spirit who, with less violence but equal decisiveness, accepted Theism as apart from Christianity. In her case, even more visibly than in Mr. Newman's, it was not Christianity which she rejected, but sundry distortions of it with which it had in her mind become {150} identified. She wrote not a few articles so permeated with the Christian spirit and imbued with the Christian hope that the most ardent believer in Christ could read them with entire approval and own himself their debtor. She took an active part in many philanthropic movements, and she was an earnest and eloquent advocate of faith in the Divine Ordering of the world and in human immortality. 'Theism,' she said, 'is not Christianity _minus_ Christ, nor Judaism _minus_ the miraculous legation of Moses, nor any other creed whatsoever merely stripped of its supernatural element. It is before all things the positive affirmation of the Absolute Goodness of God: and if it be in antagonism to other creeds, it is principally because of, and in proportion to, their failure to assert that Goodness in its infinite and all-embracing completeness.'[9] 'God is over us, and heaven {151} is waiting for us all the same, even though all the men of science in Europe unite to tell us there is only matter in the universe and only corruption in the grave. Atheism may prevail for a night, but faith cometh in the morning. Theism is "bound to win" at last: not necessarily that special type of Theism which our poor thoughts in this generation have striven to define: but that great fundamental faith, the needful substruction of every other possible religious faith, the faith in a Righteous and Loving God, and in a Life of man beyond the tomb.'[10] 'All the monitions of conscience, all the guidance and rebukes and consolations of the Divine Spirit, all the holy words of the living, and all the sacred books of the dead, these are our primary Evidences of Religion. In a word, the first article of our creed is "I BELIEVE IN GOD THE HOLY GHOST." After this fundamental dogma, we accept {152} with joy and comfort the faith in the Creator and Orderer of the physical universe, and believe in GOD THE FATHER ALMIGHTY, MAKER OF HEAVEN AND EARTH. And lastly we rejoice in the knowledge that (in no mystic Athanasian sense, but in simple fact) "_these two are One_." The God of Love and Justice Who speaks in conscience, and Whom our inmost hearts adore, is the same God Who rolls the suns and guides the issues of life and death.'[11] In an able paper, _A Faithless World_, in which Miss Cobbe combated the assertion of Sir James Fitzjames Stephen, that the disappearance of belief in God and Immortality would be unattended with any serious consequences to the material, intellectual, or moral well-being of mankind, she forcibly said, 'I confess at starting on this inquiry, that the problem, "Is religion of use, or can we do as well without it?" seems to me {153} almost as grotesque as the old story of the woman who said that we owe vast obligations to the moon, which affords us light on dark nights, whereas we are under no such debt to the sun, who only shines by day, _when there is always light_. Religion has been to us so diffused a light that it is quite possible to forget how we came by the general illumination, save when now and then it has blazed out with special brightness.' The comment is eminently just, but does it not apply with equal force to Miss Cobbe herself? The Theism which she professed was the direct outcome of Christianity, could never have existed but for Christianity, was, in all its best features, simply Christianity under a different name. That Theism, as a separate organisation, gives little evidence of conquering the world is shown by the fact that, after many years, it boasts of only one congregation, that of the Theistic Church, Swallow Street, Piccadilly, {154} of which the Rev. Charles Voysey is minister. Mr. Voysey was at one time vicar of a parish in Yorkshire, where he issued, under the title of _The Sling and the Stone_, sermons attacking the commonly accepted doctrines of the Church of England, and was in consequence deprived of his living. He is distinctly anti-Christian in his teaching; strongly prejudiced against anything that bears the Christian name: criticising the sayings and doings of our Lord in a fashion which indicates either the most astonishing misconception or the most melancholy perversion. But his sincerity and fervour on behalf of Theism are unmistakable. He describes it as _Religion for all mankind, based on facts which are never in Dispute_. The book which is called by that title is written for the help and comfort of all his fellowmen, 'chiefly for those who have doubted and discarded the Christian Religion, and in consequence have become Agnostics or {155} Pessimists.' It is prefaced by a dedication, which is also a touching confession of personal faith: 'In all humility I dedicate this book to my God Who made me and all mankind, Who loves us all alike with an everlasting love, Who of His very faithfulness causeth us to be troubled, Who punishes us justly for every sin, not in anger or vengeance, but only to cleanse, to heal, and to bless, in Whose Everlasting Arms we lie now and to all eternity.'[12] Mr. Voysey has compiled a Prayer Book for the use of his congregation. The ordinary service is practically the morning or evening service of the Book of Common Prayer, with all references to our Lord carefully eliminated. The hymn _Jesus, Lover of my Soul_ is changed to _Father, Refuge of my Soul_; and the hymn Just as I am without one plea, But that Thy blood was shed for me, And that Thou bidst me come to Thee, O Lamb of God, I come, {156} is rendered: Just as I am without one plea, But that Thy lore is seeking me, And that Thou bidst me come to Thee, O loving God, I come. The service respecting our duty, and the service of supplication have merits of their own, but, except for the wanton omission of the Name which is above every name, there is nothing in them which does not bear a Christian impress. 'Christianity _minus_ Christ' would seem to be no unfair definition of their standpoint: and without Christ they could not have been what they are. The Father Who is set forth as the Object of worship and of trust is the Father Whom Christ declared, the Father Who, but for the manifestation of Christ, would never have been known. Far be it from us to deny that the Father has been found by those who have sought Him beyond the limits of the Church: this only we affirm that those by whom He {157} has been found, have, consciously or unconsciously, drawn near to Him by the way of Christ. Nothing of value in modern Theism is incompatible with Christianity: nothing of value which would not be strengthened by faith in Him Who said, 'He that hath seen Me hath seen the Father.' IV The strange objection to faith in Christ is sometimes made that it interferes with faith in the Father. The notion of mediation is regarded as derogatory alike to God and to man. There is no need for any one to come between: no need for God to depute another to bear witness of Him: no need for us to depute Another to secure His favour, as from all eternity He is Love. The assumption, the groundless assumption, underlying this conception is that the Mediator is a barrier between man and God, a hindrance not a help to fellowship with the Divine: that one {158} goes to the Mediator because access to God is debarred. Whatever may occasionally have been the unguarded statements of representatives of Christianity, it is surely plain that no such doctrine is taught, that the very opposite of such doctrine is taught, in the New Testament. 'We do not,' says M. Sabatier, 'address ourselves to Jesus by way of dispensing ourselves from going to the Father. Far from this, we go to Christ and abide in Him, precisely that we may find the Father. We abide in Him that His filial consciousness may become our own; that the Spirit may become our spirit, and that God may dwell immediately in us as He dwells in Him. Nothing in all this carries us outside of the religion of the Spirit: on the contrary, it is its seal and confirmation.'[13] The whole object of the work of Christ, as proclaimed by Himself, or as interpreted {159} by His Apostles, was to show the Father, to bring men to the Father. 'Believest thou not that I am in the Father, and the Father in Me? the words that I speak unto you I speak not of Myself: but the Father that dwelleth in Me, He doeth the works.' He 'came and preached peace to you which were afar off and to them that were nigh. For through Him we both have access by one Spirit unto the Father.' To argue that to come to Christ is a substitute for coming to God, is an inducement to halt upon the way, is an absolute travesty and perversion. To refuse to see the glory of God in the Face of Jesus Christ is not to bring God near: it is to remove Him further from our vision. That God should come to us, that we should go to God, through a mediator, is only in accordance with a universal law. 'Why,' says one, who might be expected from his theological training to speak otherwise, 'Why, _all_ knowledge is "mediated" even of {160} the simplest objects, even of the most obvious facts: there is no such thing in the world as immediate knowledge, and shall we demur when we are told that the knowledge of God the Father also must pass, in order to reach us at its best and purest, through the medium of "that Son of God and Son of Man in Whom was the fulness of the prophetic spirit and the filial life?" ... Of this at least I feel convinced, that where faith in the Father has grown blurred and vague in our days, and finally flickered out, the cause must in many instances be sought--I will not say in the wilful rejection, but--in the careless letting go of the message and Personality of the Son.'[14] So far from the thought of the Father being ignored or set aside by the thought of Christ, we may rather say with S. John, 'Whosoever denieth the Son, the same hath not the Father: he that confesseth the Son hath the Father also.' 'He {161} that abideth in the doctrine of Christ, he hath both the Father and the Son.' The homage that we render Thee Is still our Father's own; Nor jealous claim or rivalry Divides the Cross and Throne.[15] V The notion that Theism as contrasted with Christianity is a mark of progress and of spirituality is a pure imagination. 'More spiritual it may be than the traditional Christianity which consists in rigid and stereotyped forms of practice, of ceremonial, of observance, of dogma: but not more spiritual than the teaching of Christ Himself, the end and completion of Whose work was to bring men to the Father, to teach them that God is a Spirit, and to send the Spirit of the Father into the hearts of the disciples. It would be a strange perversity if men should reject Christ in the name of spiritual {162} religion when it is to Christ, and to Him alone, that they owe the conception of what spiritual religion is.'[16] To preach the doctrines of Theism without reference to Christ is to deprive them of their most sublime illustration, their most inspiring force, and their most convincing proof. It is as Christ is known that God is believed in. The attempt to create enthusiasm for God while banishing the Gospel of Christ meets with astonishingly small response. The 'Religion for all Mankind' makes but little progress, is, in spite of the labours of five-and-thirty years, confined, as we have seen, almost to a solitary moderately sized congregation. And whether or not the 'facts' on which the religion is based 'are never in dispute,' the religion itself is often-times disputed very keenly. Modern assaults upon religious faith are, as a rule, directed quite as much against Theism as {163} against Christianity.[17] It is the Love, or even the existence, of the Living God, it is human responsibility, it is life beyond the grave, that are called in question as frequently as the Resurrection of Christ. The assurance that God at sundry times and in divers manners has spoken by prophets renders it not more but less improbable that He should speak by a Son: the assurance that there is life beyond the grave for all renders it not more but less improbable that Jesus rose from the dead. Conversely those who believe in Jesus believe with a double intensity in Him Whom He revealed. 'Ye believe in God,' said Christ, 'believe also in Me.' For many of us now, it is because we believe in Christ that we believe also in God. The Almighty and Eternal is beyond our ken: the grace and truth of Jesus Christ come home to our hearts. The Word that was in the beginning with God and was God, {164} is wrapt in impenetrable mystery: the Word made Flesh can be seen and handled: has wrought With human hands the Creed of Creeds In loveliness of perfect deeds, More strong than all poetic thought.[18] And however it may be in a few exceptional cases, where people nominally renouncing Christ desperately cleave to a fragment of the faith of their childhood, the fact remains that, where He ceases to be acknowledged, faith in the Father Whom He manifested tends, gradually or speedily, to vanish. VI The superiority of Theism to Deism simply consists in its being more Christian. With the ideas of God which 'Theists' hold, we can, as Christians, most cordially sympathise. We can sincerely say, 'Hold to them firmly, they are your life: let no man rob you of {165} them by any vain deceit.' But we cannot help also asking, 'Whence have you drawn those lofty ideas? where have you obtained so exalted a conception of the Divine Being in His mingled Majesty and lowliness, in His inconceivable greatness, and His equally inconceivable compassion? We turn from the picture of God which, with so much labour, so much skill, so much moral earnestness, you have exhibited, and we behold the Original in Christ and His Teaching. However unconsciously, it is His Truth, it is His Features, that you have reproduced. You have been brought up in the Church of Christ, or you have been brought into contact with its influences, and you have imbibed its teachings, perhaps more deeply than some who would not dare to question its smallest precepts. Still, Christ's teaching you have not outgrown, from Christ Himself you have not escaped. You cannot go from His presence or flee from His Spirit. Those {166} views which you hold so strongly, which are to you the most ennobling that have ever been given of God and of religion, where is it that alone they are to be found? In places where Christianity has gone before. No doubt, belief in God is not confined to Christian countries: worship of the Maker of heaven and earth exists where the name of Christ has never been heard, but not such belief, _such_ worship, as that for which those persons contend. The God Whom they adore will not be found anywhere save where Christianity has penetrated. In this country it is the desperate clinging to one portion of the Christian Faith when all else has been abandoned: in other lands, in India, for example, where representatives of this way of thinking are not uncommon, it is the rapturous welcome of one of the sublime truths of Christianity before which the idolatries of their forefathers are passing away. It is safe to call it a transition stage: {167} it will either part with the fragment of Christianity which it retains and become merged in doubt and speculation and unbelief; or it will include yet more of the Christianity of which it has grasped a part: its belief in God will be crowned and confirmed by its belief in Christ. For, speaking to those who cherish faith in the All-Righteous and All-Loving God as the only hope for the regeneration of mankind, we cannot shut our eyes to the fact that where faith in Christ fades, faith in God has a tendency to become vague and dim. He ceases to be thought of as a Friend and Help at hand: He is resolved into a Creator infinitely distant or into a Law, immovable, inexorable, a blind, unconscious Fate. It is Christ Who gives life to the thought of God. It is the Word made Flesh that makes the Eternal Word more real. The attempt of the Deists to purify religion by the preaching of a God who had not {168} revealed Himself, and could not reveal Himself, in a Son, came to nothing. Voltaire's chapel at Ferney still stands, but nobody worships in it. Religion seemed to slumber: belief in God seemed to be decaying, when the preaching of the name and the work of Christ again aroused it into life. And so it is now. Whatever the ability, whatever the sincerity of the advocates of belief in God without reference to Christ, it lacks motive-power, it lacks the missionary spirit. If we may judge by the past, Theism without Christ is a faith which will not spread, which will not lay hold on the labouring and the heavy laden: which may be maintained as a theory, but which will not be as a fire in the souls of men diffusing itself by kindling other souls. It is from Christ alone, from Christ the manifestation of what God is in Heart and Mind, from Christ the manifestation of what man ought to be, from Christ Who said, 'In My Father's house are many {169} mansions: he that hath seen Me hath seen the Father,' that there comes with an authority to which, in face of the difficulties besetting the present and the future, the human soul will bow, with a soothing power to which the human spirit will gladly yield--it is from Christ alone that there comes the Divine injunction, 'Let not your heart be troubled, ye believe in God, believe also in Me.' It is as He is clearly seen and truly known that the clouds of error and superstition vanish from the Face of God, and men are drawn to worship and to trust. [1] Longfellow, _Song of Hiawatha_. [2] Keble, _Christian Year_. [3] Bishop Gore, _The Christian Creed_. [4] Appendix XX. [5] _Phases of Faith_. [6] _The Soul: its Sorrows and Aspirations_. [7] _The Soul: its Sorrows and Aspirations_. [8] _The Soul_. [9] _Alone to the Alone_. [10] _Alone to the Alone_. [11] _Alone to the Alone_. [12] Appendix XXI. [13] _The Religions of Authority and the Religion of the Spirit_. [14] J. Warschauer, _Coming of Christ_. [15] Whittier, _Our Master_. [16] R. B. Bartlett, _The Letter and the Spirit_: Bampton Lecture. [17] Appendix XXII. [18] Tennyson, _In Memoriam_. {172} VI THE TRIBUTE OF CRITICISM TO CHRIST 'For their rock is not as our Rock, even our enemies themselves being judges.'--DEUTERONOMY xxxii. 31. 'He asked His disciples, saying, Whom do men say that I, the Son of Man, am? And they said, Some say that Thou art John the Baptist; some Elias; and others Jeremias or one of the prophets.'--S. MATTHEW xvi. 13, 14. 'What think ye of Christ? Whose Son is He?--S. MATTHEW, xxii. 42. 'And there was much murmuring among the people concerning Him: for some said, He is a good man: others said, Nay, but He deceiveth the people.'--S. JOHN vii. 12. 'Then said Jesus unto the twelve, Will ye also go away? Then Simon Peter answered Him, Lord, to whom shall we go? Thou hast the words of eternal life.'--S. JOHN vi. 67, 68. {173} VI THE TRIBUTE OF CRITICISM TO CHRIST[1] Of the investigations of modern criticism the most serious are those which have concerned the person of our Lord. It has been felt both by assailants and by defenders of the Faith that, so long as His supremacy remains acknowledged, Christianity has not been overthrown. Other doctrines once considered all-important may fall into comparative abeyance: whether they are upheld or rejected or modified, matters little to Christianity as Christianity. But more and more it has grown clear that Christ Himself {174} is the Article of a standing or a falling Church. If this doctrine is not of God, if He is not the Way, the Truth, and the Life, Christianity, whatever benefits may have been associated with its career, must be ranked among religions which have passed away. But so long as He is admitted to be the Authority and standard in the moral and spiritual realm, so long as His name is above every name, the work of destruction is not accomplished. Hence, renewed attempts have of late been made to tear the crown from His brow, to reduce Him to the level of common men, to relegate Him to the domain of myth, even to deny that He ever existed. Although, in certain quarters at present, this last and extreme position is loudly asserted, it is hardly necessary to occupy much time in examining it, the trend of all criticism, even of the most rationalistic, being so decidedly opposed to {175} it. To deny that He existed is commonly felt to be the outcome of the most arbitrary prejudice, the conclusions of Whately's _Historic Doubts relative to Napoleon Buonaparte_ remaining grave and weighty in comparison. That Jesus of Nazareth lived and taught and was crucified, that, immediately after His Death, His disciples were proclaiming that He had risen, and was their living inspiration, these are facts which can be denied only by the very extravagance of scepticism. And the admission of these simple facts implies a great deal more than is commonly supposed. I It is the fashion for hostile critics to say, 'Christianity is not dependent upon Christ: it is the creation of the semi-historical Paul, not of the unhistorical Jesus. There is at best no more connection between Christendom and Christ than between America and {176} Amerigo Vespucci.[2] See how much Christians have been obliged to give up: see how belief after belief has had to be surrendered; see how they are now left with the merest fragment of their ancient Creed, how evidently they will soon be compelled to part with the little to which they still desperately cling.' The conclusion is somewhat hasty and premature. The fragment which remains is after all the main portion of the Creed of the early disciples. Where that fragment is declared and held and lived in, there is the presence and the power of the Christian Faith. We need not trouble ourselves about sundry points which, at one epoch or another, have come to be denied or ignored: we need not say anything either for them or against them. We have to take our stand on what is accepted, not on what is rejected. And for the moment we may {177} venture to take our stand only on what is accepted by the critics least biassed in favour of the traditional views of Christendom. Those who have come to imagine it to be a mark of advanced culture to break with all religion, to confine their attention to the fleeting present, to reject all that claims to have Divine sanction, may listen with respect to the words of some who appear in fancied hostility to Christianity. We are not assuming that because men are great in Science or History or Philosophy they must be great in spiritual things. Their achievements in their own sphere, let us gratefully recognise; their uprightness, their single-heartedness, let us imitate; and if by chance they are sincere Christians as well as able men, let us rejoice; if they are not professing Christians at all and yet bear witness to the beneficial influence of Christianity and the unique power of the words and character of Christ, let us hail with {178} pleasure their tribute of admiration as a testimony impartial and unanswerable to the pre-eminence of our Lord, but let not our faith in God, our knowledge of our Saviour, be dependent on their verdict. The Faith of the Gospel does not stand or fall with their approval or disapproval. In matters of criticism we do well to defer to scholars, in matters of science we do well to defer to men of science. But in matters pertaining to the inner life, to the development of character, to the knowledge of things pure and lovely and of good report, such men have no exclusive claim to be listened to. And it would be absurd to say that we cannot make up our minds as to whether Christ is worthy to be revered and loved and followed until we have ascertained what is said about Him by authorities in physics, or geology, or astronomy, by statesmen or novelists or writers of magazine articles, by inventors of ingenious machines or authors of {179} sensational stories. If they speak scoffingly, if they do not recognise any sacredness in His Spirit and Life, it will be impossible for us to take Him as our Moral and Spiritual Guide. We might almost as well say that we will not trust the truthfulness or goodness of our father or mother or brother or friend of many years, unless, from persons eminent in literature or science or politics, we have testimonials assuring us that our affection for those with whom we are so closely associated is not a delusion. That is a matter, we should all feel, with which the great and distinguished, however justly great and distinguished, have really nothing to do. It is a matter for ourselves, a matter in which our own experience is worth more than the verdict of people, however learned in their own line, who do not, and cannot, know the friend or relative as we know him ourselves. Still, we regard it as an additional {180} compliment to his worth, and an additional confirmation of our own faith, if those who have been jealously scrutinising his conduct declare that they can find no fault in him.[3] If it is made plain that the positive teaching of men unconnected with any Church, untrammelled by any creed, is a virtual assertion of much that is most dear to Christianity, if it is made plain that even where there is strong denial there is also much reference to Christ, it may have more weight than the most cogent arguments or the most glowing appeals of orthodox divines or devout believers. The Evangelists delight to record instances of unexpected, unfriendly, unimpeachable testimony to the power of Christ. It is not only that the simple-minded people were astonished at His doctrine, but that the soldiers who were sent to silence Him {181} returned, smitten with amazement, saying, 'Never man spake like this Man.' It is not only that a grateful penitent washed His Feet with tears, but that the unprincipled governor who sentenced Him to death declared 'I find in Him no fault at all.' It is not only that an Apostle confesses, 'Thou art the Christ the Son of the Living God,' but that the centurion who watched over His Crucifixion exclaimed, 'Certainly this was a Righteous Man: this was a Son of God.' It is similar unprejudiced witness that we may hear around us still, the witness of those who profess to have another rule of life than ours, and to be in no degree influenced by our traditions. We must not expect too much from this kind of evidence: we must not expect clear logical proof of every article rightly or wrongly identified with the popularly termed 'orthodox' Creed. It would destroy the value of the evidence {182} simply to quote orthodox doctrines in orthodox language. What we rather offer is the testimony of those who have resigned their grasp on much that we may deem essential. It is because in a sense we may call them 'enemies' that we ask them to be 'judges' in the great controversy. It is exactly because they are incredulous, or sceptical, or irreligious that we cite them at all. We confine ourselves to the utterances of men who are commonly cited as hostile to the commonly accepted Faith of Christ, or who do not rank among the number of His nominal disciples, or who at least have discussed His claims by critical and historical methods, endeavouring fairly to take into account all the facts which the circumstances warrant. We say to those who disown the authority of Christ: It is not to the words of Evangelists or preachers that your attention is sought: it is to the words of those whom you {183} profess to respect, of those because of whose supposed antagonism to Christianity you are rejecting Him. We ask you to listen to them and to consider whether He of Whom such men speak in such terms is to be so lightly set aside as you have fancied. II It will be strange if, accepting even that scanty creed, we do not find ourselves speedily accepting much more. When it is heartily acknowledged that Jesus of Nazareth lived and died, and that His first followers found strength and irresistible power in the conviction that He had conquered death and the grave, it is of necessity that we go further. The extreme sceptics who maintain that He never existed are, for the purpose of controversy, wise in their generation, for, once His existence is admitted, His mysterious power begins to tell. We are confronted {184} with an Influence by which, consciously or unconsciously, we must be affected, a knowledge which we must acquire, an Authority to which we must bow. Let us not think merely of those who have, in utter devotion, yielded their hearts and souls to Him through all the centuries, of the institutions and customs which owe their existence directly to Him; let us think of the manifestations which are so often visible in those who do not suspect whence the manifestations come, let us think of the tributes of affection, of homage, of devotion which are paid by those to whom the ancient faith in His Divinity appears to be an illusion or an impossible exaggeration. Scarcely any critic of recent years has been regarded as more destructive than Professor Schmiedel. Indignant attack after indignant attack has been made upon him for arguing that only nine sayings attributed to our Lord can be accepted as genuine, that {185} all else is involved in suspicion. What Schmiedel really does maintain is that these nine sayings must of necessity be accepted as genuine, cannot be rejected by any sane canon of criticism, and that the acceptance of these nine sayings, these 'foundation-pillars,' compels the acceptance of a great deal besides. '_What then have I gained in these nine foundation pillars_? You will perhaps say "Very little": I reply, "I have gained just enough." Having them, I know that Jesus must really have come forward in the way He is said to have done.... In a word, I know, on the one hand, that His Person cannot be referred to the region of myth; on the other hand, that He was man in the full sense of the term, and that, without of course denying that the Divine character was in Him, this could be found only in the shape in which it can be found in any human being. I think, therefore, that if we knew no more we should {186} know by no means little about Him. But as a matter of fact the foundation-pillars are but the starting-point for our study of the life of Jesus.'[4] And this study, he concludes, gives us nothing less than 'pretty well the whole bulk of Jesus' teaching, in so far as its object is to explain in a purely religious and ethical way what God requires of man and wherein man requires comfort and consolation from God.' The standpoint of Professor Schmiedel is not the standpoint of the Church as a whole: he fearlessly and aggressively endeavours to remove any misconception on that subject: all the more remarkable that, renouncing so much, he incontrovertibly establishes so much, incontrovertibly establishes, we may not unreasonably contend, a great deal more than he admits: he cannot, we may think, stop logically where he does. All this may, or may not, be legitimately argued: there can {187} be no doubt that one whose dislike of traditional dogmas is excessive, and whose scrutiny of the Gospel records is minute and unsparing, forces us to say of Jesus, What manner of Man is this? It is the same with the general tendency of modern criticism. From the day that Strauss accomplished his destructive work, the Figure of Jesus as a Historical Reality has been more and more endowed with power.[5] No age has so occupied itself with Him, none has so endeavoured to recall the features of His character, to apply His teachings to the solution of social questions, as this age of ruthless inquiry. The inquirers may have abjured tradition, but almost without exception they have profoundly reverenced, if they have not actually worshipped, Jesus of Nazareth, and they have found in His Gospel moral and spiritual light and life. {188} Some thirty years ago, M. André Lefèvre, a fervid disciple of Materialism, an uncompromising and bitter opponent of every symptom of religious manifestation, could not help discerning 'with the clairvoyance of hatred,' the influence of Christianity in modern thought. 'Descartes, Leibnitz, Locke, Condillac, Newton, Bonnet, Kant, Hegel, Spinoza himself, Toland and Priestley, Rousseau, all are Christians somewhere.... Voltaire himself has not completely eliminated the virus: his Deism is not exempt from it.'[6] The same thing is still occurring. In the most unexpected quarters we find the fascination of Christ remaining. Men not acknowledging themselves to be His followers, defiantly proclaiming that they are not His followers, that they can hardly be even interested in Him, are yet perpetually returning, in what they themselves will confess as their higher moments, to the thought of {189} Him, trying to make plain why it is that for them there is in Him no beauty that they should desire Him. For example, this is how Mr. H. G. Wells, the popular author of so many imaginative works, attempts frankly to explain his attitude: 'I hope I shall offend no susceptibilities when I assert that this great and very definite Personality in the hearts and imaginations of mankind does not, and never has, attracted me. It is a fact I record about myself without aggression or regret. I do not find myself able to associate him in any way with the emotion of salvation.' But Mr. Wells goes on to say: 'I admit the splendid imaginative appeal in the idea of a divine human friend and mediator. If it were possible to have access by prayer, by meditation, by urgent outcries of the soul, to such a being whose feet were in the darknesses, who stooped down from the light, who was at once great and little, limitless in power {190} and virtue, and one's very brother; if it were possible by sheer will in believing to make and make one's way to such a helper, who would refuse such help? But I do not find such a being in Christ. I do not find, I cannot imagine such a being. I wish I could. To me the Christian Christ seems not so much a humanised God as an incomprehensibly sinless being, neither God nor man. His sinlessness wears his incarnation like a fancy dress, all his white self unchanged. He had no petty weaknesses. Now the essential trouble of my life is its petty weaknesses. If I am to have that love, that sense of understanding fellowship which is, I conceive, the peculiar magic and merit of this idea of a Personal Saviour, then I need some one quite other than this image of virtue, this terrible and incomprehensible Galilean with his crown of thorns, his bloodstained hands and feet. I cannot love him any more than I can love a man {191} upon the rack.' 'The Christian's Christ is too fine for me, not incarnate enough, not flesh enough, not earth enough. He was never foolish and hot-eared and inarticulate, never vain, he never forgot things, nor tangled his miracles.'[7] There is no disputing about tastes; and it is impossible to refute one who tells us that he cannot see and cannot understand, though we may lament and be astonished at his disabilities. Why a man upon the rack should not be loved, or why the prime qualification for the Saviour of mankind should be the plentiful possession of petty weaknesses, or why it should be necessary for Him to be sometimes foolish and to have a bad memory, or what necessary connection there is between hot-ears and the salvation of the world, need not detain us long. For in spite of this apparently curious longing for a Deliverer who shall be weak and vain {192} and forgetful and hot-eared, and foolish, and of the earth earthy, Mr. Wells shows us that the urgent outcry of his soul is for a Being limitless in power and virtue and one's very brother; and though he says that he does not find such a Being in Christ, it is exactly what Christians have in all ages been finding. 'We have not an High Priest which cannot be touched with the feeling of our infirmities, but was in all points tempted like as we are, yet without sin. Let us therefore come boldly unto the Throne of Grace that we may obtain mercy and find grace to help in times of need.' III The instance which we have cited is exceptional among modern doubters, among those who have deliberately set themselves without violent prejudice to study the claims of Christianity. Be it in poetry or prose, in scientific criticism or in imaginative {193} biography, with remarkable unanimity, while stubbornly refusing to accept the Creed of the Church, they so depict Him that the natural conclusion of their representation is, 'Oh, come let us adore Him.' There is scarcely any of them who would not sympathise with the admission and aspiration of B. Wimmer in his confession, _My Struggle for Light_: 'I cannot but love this unique Child of God with all the fervour of my soul, I cannot but lift up eyes full of reverence and rapture to this Personality in whom the highest and most sacred virtues which can move the heart of man shine forth in spotless purity throughout the ages. Even if many a trait in His portrait, as the Gospels sketch it for us, be more legendary than historical, yet I feel that here a man stands before me, a man who really lived and has a place in history like that of no other man: indeed I feel that even the legends concerning Him possess a truth in that they spring from the {194} Spirit which passed from Him into His Church. I know what I have to thank Him for. I would in my inmost self be so closely united with Him that He may live in my spirit and bear absolute sway in my soul. I will not be ashamed of His Cross and I will gladly endure the insults which men have directed, and still often enough direct, against Him and His truth.' That is the characteristic and dominant note of the more recent criticism. The almost universal conclusion is that the Perfect Ideal has been depicted in the Christ of the Gospels, and has been depicted because the Reality had been seen in Jesus of Nazareth.[8] Is it not allowable to declare that the writers, let them say what they will about their rejection of the doctrine of the Church concerning the Incarnation and the Atonement of Christ, are practically His disciples, that the ardour of their faith in Him not {195} infrequently puts to shame the coldness of us who call Him Lord?[9] There is scarcely extravagance in the assertion that, as we recognise the part which Strauss and Renan played, and the unconscious help which they rendered, 'we may well say now "_noster_" Strauss and "_noster_" Renan. They were, in their measure, and, according to their respective abilities, defenders of the Faith.'[10] While it is possible to lament that among Christian apologists there are timid surrenders and faithless forebodings, it is yet more possible to reply that 'Whereas our critics were at one time infidels and our bitter enemies, they are now proud of the name of Christian and ready to be the friends, as far as that is permitted, of every form of orthodoxy in Christianity.'[11] The language in which, at any rate, they express their conception of Him is sometimes {196} more devout, more exalted, than the language which used to be employed by professed apologists. The Hindu Theist, Protab Chandra Mozoomdar, who stood outside the fold of Christianity, joyfully proclaimed, 'Christ reigns. As the law of the spirit of heavenly life, He reigns in the bosom of every believer.... Christ reigns as the recogniser of Divine humanity in the fallen, the low, and the despicable, as the healer of the unhappy, the unclean, and the sore distressed. Reigns He not in the sweet humanity that goes forth to seek and to save its kin in every land and clime, to teach and preach, and raise and reclaim, to weep and watch and give repose? He reigns as sweet patience and sober reason amid the laws and orders of the world; as the spirit of submission and loyalty He reigns in peace in the kingdoms of the world.... Christ reigns in the individual who feebly watches His footprints in the tangled mazes of life. {197} He reigns in the community that is bound together in His name. As Divine Humanity, and the Son of God, He reigns gloriously around us in the New Dispensation.'[12] Or listen to the rhapsody with which Mrs. Besant, once an Atheist, now a Theosophist, depicts His influence from age to age: 'His the steady inpouring of truth into every brain ready to receive it, so that hand stretched out to hand across the centuries and passed on the torch of knowledge, which thus was never extinguished. His the Form which stood beside the rack and in the flames of the burning pile, cheering His confessors and His martyrs, soothing the anguish of their pains and filling their hearts with His peace. His the impulse which spoke in the thunder of Savonarola, which guided the calm wisdom of Erasmus, which inspired the deep ethics of the God-intoxicated Spinoza.... His the beauty that allured Fra {198} Angelico and Raphael and Leonardo da Vinci, that inspired the genius of Michael Angelo, that shone before the eyes of Murillo, and that gave the power that raised the marvels of the world, the Duomo of Milan, the San Marco of Venice, the Cathedral of Florence. His the melody that breathed in the Masses of Mozart, the sonatas of Beethoven, the oratorios of Handel, the fugues of Bach, the austere splendour of Brahms. Through the long centuries He has striven and laboured, and, with all the mighty burden of the Churches to carry, He has never left uncared for and unsolaced one human heart that cried to Him for help.'[13] When we read sentences like these by themselves we say, Here is unqualified acceptance of the Christian Faith. And even when we are told that we must not take the sentences in their literal and natural meaning, that they apply not to Him Whose earthly {199} career is sketched in the Gospels, but to an Ideal Being evolved out of the writer's imagination, we are surely entitled to answer, It is of Jesus that the words are spoken, whether their meaning is to be taken literally or figuratively; if they have any meaning at all, they indicate a Being without a parallel. That there should be so extraordinary a conflict of opinion regarding Him, that the greatest intellects as well as the simplest souls should hail Him as Divine, that the most critical should still find their explanations insufficient to account for the impression which He made upon His contemporaries and continues to wield to this day, at least renders Him absolutely unique. Men may disbelieve a great deal; they cannot disbelieve that this Amazing Personality has a place in the heart of the world which no other has ever occupied. The alleged imaginary Ideal has had on earth only one approximate Embodiment. Nay, we are {200} forced to confess, without the actual Character disclosed from Nazareth to Calvary, the Ideal would never have been conceived. IV Robert Browning has described in his _Christmas Eve_ a certain German professor lecturing upon the myth of Christ and the sources whence it is derivable. But as the listeners wait for the inference that faith in Him should henceforth be discarded, 'he bids us,' says the supposed narrator of the story, 'when we least expect it take back our faith': Go home and venerate the myth I thus have experimented with. This Man, continue to adore Him Rather than all who went before Him, And all who ever followed after. This is a correct though humorous summary of much prevalent scepticism. While critics destroy with the one hand, they build up {201} with the other; while they seem intent on rooting out every remnant of trust in Christ, they frequently conclude by passionately beseeching us to make Him our Model and our King, our Pattern and our Guide. If there is anything which is calculated at once to arouse us who profess and call ourselves Christians and to make us ashamed, it is that the diligence with which His Example is followed, the earnestness with which His words are studied, by some whom we hold to have abandoned the Catholic Faith, throw into the shade the obedience, the love, the earnestness which prevail among ourselves. They who follow not with us are casting out devils in His name. It is with us, they are careful to say, and not with Him that they are waging war. They may dispute the incidents of His recorded Life: they may insist on reducing Him to the level of humanity, but they also insist that in so doing they act according to His Own {202} Mind, that they refuse, for the very love which they bear Him, to surround Him with a glory which He would have rejected. Devoid of the errors which have led astray His successors, exalted far above the wisest and the best of those who have spoken in His Name, it is the function of criticism to show Him in His fashion as He lived, to sweep away the falsehoods which have gathered round Him in the course of ages.[14] We do not seek to read into the emotional language of such writers a significance which they would repudiate, but we are surely entitled to point out that in spite of themselves they are bringing their tribute of homage to the King of the Jews, the King of all mankind. They grant so much that, it seems to us, they must grant yet more. We, at any rate, cannot stop where they deem themselves obliged to stop. We must go further, we hear other voices swell the {203} chorus of adoration, we have the witness not only of those who, in awe and wonderment have exclaimed, 'Truly this was a Son of God,' but we have the witness of those who from heartfelt conviction are able to say, 'The life which I now live in the flesh I live by the faith of the Son of God, Who loved me and gave Himself for me.' And to them we humbly hope to be able to respond, 'Now we believe not because of the language of others, whether honest doubters or devout disciples, for we have heard Him ourselves, and know that this is indeed the Christ, the Saviour of the world.' 'Restate our doctrines as we may,' to sum up all in the words of one who began his career as a teacher in the confidence that Jesus of Nazareth was merely a man, but whom closer study and deepening experience have brought to a fuller faith, 'reconstruct our theologies as we will, this age, like every age, beholds in Him the Way to God, the {204} Truth of God, the Life of God lived out among men: this age, like every age, has heard and responds to His call, "Come unto Me all ye that labour and are heavy laden and I will give you rest": this age, like every age, finds access to the Father through the Son. These things no criticism can shake, these certainties no philosophy disprove, these facts no science dissolve away. He is the Religion which He taught: and while the race of man endures, men will turn to the crucified Son of Man, not with a grudging, "Thou hast conquered, O Galilean!" but with the joyful, grateful cry, "My Lord and my God."'[15] V He who was lifted up on the Cross is drawing all men to Himself, wise and unwise, friend and foe, devout and doubting, is ruling even where His authority is disavowed, is {205} causing hearts to adore where intellects rebel. The patriotic English baron, Simon de Montfort, as he saw the Royal forces under Prince Edward come against him, was filled with admiration of their discipline and bearing. 'By the arm of S. James,' he cried, recalling with soldierly pride that to himself they owed in great measure their skill, 'they come on well: they learned that not of themselves, but of me.' The Church of Christ, when confronted with the benevolence, the integrity, the zeal of some who are arrayed against her, may naturally say, 'They live well indeed: they learned that not of themselves, but of me.' 'You are probably,' was the homely expostulation of Benjamin Franklin with Thomas Paine, 'you are probably indebted to Religion for the habits of virtue on which you so justly value yourself. You might easily display your excellent talents of reasoning upon a less hazardous subject, and thereby obtain a rank amongst {206} our most distinguished authors. For among us,' continued Franklin satirically, 'it is not necessary, as among the Hottentots, that a youth, to be raised into the company of men, should prove his manhood by beating his mother.' The blows inflicted on Christianity come from unfilial hands and hearts, from hands and hearts which have been strengthened and nurtured on Christianity itself, from hands and hearts which, but for the lingering Christianity that still impels them, would soon be paralysed and dead. The ideals which systems intended to supersede Christianity set before them are, to all intents and purposes, only Christianity under another name. Where the ideals go beyond ordinary Christian practice, they are only a nearer approximation to the Supreme Ideal which has never been fulfilled save in Jesus Christ Himself. Wherever there is truth in them which is not generally accepted, or which comes as a surprise, investigation {207} will show that it is an aspect of Christianity which Christians have been neglecting, that it is a manifestation of the mind of Christ, a development of His principles. Look where we will, the men that are making real moral and spiritual progress are those who are in touch with Him. Their beliefs about Him may not be accurate, their conception of His nature and work may be defective, but it is His Name, His Spirit, His Power, it is Himself that is the secret of their life. One part of His teaching has sunk into their hearts, one element of His character has mysteriously impressed them. They have touched the hem of His garment, the shadow of His Apostle passing by has glided over them, and they have been roused from weakness and death. 'He that was healed wist not Who it was, for Jesus had conveyed Himself away.' So it happened in the days of His flesh: so is it happening still: they that are set free may not yet know to Whom {208} their freedom is to be ascribed. Now, as on the way to Emmaus, when men are communing together and reasoning, Jesus Himself may be walking with them, though their eyes are holden that they do not know Him. John Stuart Mill, whose acute intellect, whose spotless rectitude, whose public spirit, whose non-religious training naturally made him the idol of those to whom Christianity was a bygone superstition, came in his later days, not indeed to accept the orthodox creed, but yet to stretch out his longing hand to Christ, believing that He might have 'unique commission from God to lead mankind to truth and virtue.' George Eliot, whose genius was ever labouring to fill up the void which the rejection of her early faith had made, consoled her dying hours, as she had inspired her most ennobling pages, with the _Imitation of Christ_. Matthew Arnold, most cultured of critics, joins hands with the most fervid of evangelists in maintaining that {209} 'there is no way to righteousness but the way of Jesus.' The name of Christ--none other name under heaven given among men will ever prove a substitute for that. Renouncing faith in Christ, is there life, is there salvation for man to be found in the doctrines, the names, the influences which are so vehemently extolled? Is there one of them which so satisfies the cravings of the heart, which enkindles such glorious hopes, which inspires to such holy living, which inculcates so universal a brotherhood, as Christianity? Is there one of them which, at the best, is more than a keeping of despair at bay, than a resolute acceptance of utter overthrow, than a blindness to the tremendous issues which are involved?[16] Will the culture which is devoted, and cannot but be devoted, exclusively to the outward, which imparts a knowledge of Science or Art or Literature, be found sufficient to {210} rescue men from the slavery of sin or from the torment of doubt? Will the progress which is altogether occupied with the material and the physical, with providing better houses and better food and better wages, produce happiness without alloy and remove the sting and dread of death?[17] Will the reiteration of the dogma that we are but fleeting shadows, that there is nothing to hope for in the future, that we are all the victims of delusion, tend to elevate and benefit our downcast race? Will the attempt to worship what has never been made known, what is simply darkness and mystery, be more successful in raising men above themselves than the worship of the Righteousness and the Love which have been made manifest in Christ? Will the attempt to supplant the worship of Jesus Christ, in Whom was no sin, by the worship of Humanity at large, of Humanity stained with guilt and crime as {211} well as illumined here and there with deeds of heroism, of Humanity sunk to the level of the brutes as well as exalted to the level of whatever we may suppose to be the highest, seeing that there is really no higher existence with which to compare it--will this worship of itself, with all its baseness and imperfection, this turning of mankind into a Mutual Adoration Society, make Humanity divine? Will even the assurance that far-distant ages will have new inventions, fairer laws, more abundant wealth be any deliverance to us from our burdens, any salvation from our individual sorrow and guilt and shame? Can we to whom the likeness of Christ has been shown, can we imagine that any of these efforts to answer the yearning of mankind for deliverance from the body of this death will prove an efficient substitute for Him? And if we forsake Him, it must be in one or other of these directions that we go. {212} VI But the signs of the times are full of hope. In social work at home, in the progress of missions abroad, in revivals of one kind and another, in growing reverence for holy things, in a renewed interest in religion as the most vital of all topics, even in strange spiritual manifestations not within the Church, we have, amid all that is discouraging and depressing, indication of the coming kingdom. The cry, 'Back to Christ,' with all the truth that is in it, is only half a truth if it does not also mean 'Forward to Christ.' He is before us as well as behind us, and the Hope of the World is the gathering together of all things in Him. Should there be, as there has been over and over again in days gone by, a widespread unbelief, a rejection of His Divine Revelation, of this we may be sure--it will be only for a time. When the sceptical physician, in Tennyson's poem, murmured: 'The good Lord Jesus has had his day,' {213} the believing nurse made the comment: 'Had? has it come? It has only dawned: it will come by and by.' A thought most sad, though most inspiring. 'Only dawned.' Why is Christianity after all these centuries only beginning to be manifested? It is at least partly because of the apathy, the divisions, the evil lives of us who profess and call ourselves Christians, because we have wrangled about the secondary and the comparatively unimportant, and have neglected the weightier matters of the law, because we have so left to those beyond the Church the duty of proclaiming and enforcing principles which our Lord and His Apostles put in the forefront of their teaching. We have narrowed the Kingdom of Christ, we have claimed too little for Him, we have forgotten that He has to do with the secular as well as with the spiritual, that He must be King of the Nation as well as of the Church. But now in the growing {214} prominence of Social Questions, which so many fear as an evidence of the waning of religion, have we not an incentive to show that the social must be pervaded by the religious, that our duties to one another are no small part of the Kingdom of Christ? For all sorts and conditions of men, for masters and servants, for rulers and ruled, for employers and employed, there is ever accumulating proof that only as they bear themselves towards each other in the spirit of the New Testament can there be true harmony and mutual respect; that only, in short, as the kingdoms of this world become the kingdom of our Lord and of His Christ will men in reality bear one another's burdens; that only as the Everlasting Gospel of the Everlasting Love prevails will all strife and contention, whether personal or political or ecclesiastical or national, come to an end; that only as men enter into the fellowship of that Son of Man Who came not to be {215} ministered unto but to minister and to give His Life a ransom for many will the glorious vision of old be fulfilled: I saw in the night vision, and behold One like the Son of Man came with the clouds of heaven and came to the Ancient of Days and they brought Him near before Him. And there was given Him dominion and glory and a kingdom, that all people, nations and languages shall serve Him. His dominion is an everlasting dominion which shall not pass away and His kingdom that which shall not be destroyed. [1] In this Lecture are included some paragraphs from a sermon long out of print, _The Witness of Scepticism to Christ_, preached before the Synod of Lothian and Tweeddale. [2] G. Lommel, _Jesus von Nazareth_ (quoted in Pfannmüller's _Jesus im Urteil der Jahrhunderte_). [3] Appendix XXIII. [4] _Jesus in Modern Criticism_. [5] H. Weinel, _Jesus im neunzehnten Jahrhundert_. [6] Quoted in E. Naville, _Le Témoignage du Christ_. [7] _First and Last Things: a Confession of Faith and Rule of Life_. [8] Appendix XXIV. [9] Appendix XXV. [10] _Lux Hominum_, Preface. [11] _Lux Hominum_, p. 84. [12] _The Oriental Christ_. [13] _Esoteric Christianity_. [14] Appendix XXVI. [15] J. Warschauer, _The New Evangel_. [16] Appendix XXVII. [17] Appendix XXVIII. {219} APPENDICES APPENDIX I 'I hope no reader imagines me so weak to stand up in defence of real Christianity such as used in primitive times (if we may believe the authors of those ages) to have an influence upon men's beliefs and actions. To offer at the restoring of that would indeed be a wild project: it would be to dig up foundations: to destroy at one blow all the wit and half the learning of the kingdom, to break the entire frame and constitution of things, to ruin trade, extinguish arts and sciences, with the professors of them; in short, to turn our courts, exchanges, and shops into deserts; and would be full as absurd as the proposal of Horace, where he advises the Romans all in a body, to leave their city, and seek a new seat in some remote part of the world, by way of cure for the corruption of their manners.'--DEAN SWIFT, _An Argument to Prove that the Abolishing of Christianity in England may, as things now stand, be attended with some Inconveniences_. {220} APPENDIX II While the state of our race is such as to need all our mutual devotedness, all our aspiration, all our resources of courage, hope, faith, and good cheer, the disciples of the Christian Creed and Morality are called upon, day by day, to work out their own salvation with fear and trembling and so forth. Such exhortations are too low for even the wavering mood and quacked morality of a time of theological suspense and uncertainty. In the extinction of that suspense and the discrediting of that selfish quacking I see the prospect for future generations of a purer and loftier virtue, and a truer and sweeter heroism than divines who preach such self-seeking can conceive of.'--HARRIET MARTINEAU, _Autobiography_, vol. ii. p. 461. 'Noble morality is classic morality, the morality of Greece, of Rome, of Renaissance Italy, of ancient India. But Christian morality is slave morality _in excelsis_. For the essence of Christian morality is the desire of the individual to be saved: his consciousness of power is so small that he lives in hourly peril of damnation and death and yearns thus for the arms of some saving grace.'--_F. Nietzsche_, by A. R. Orage, p. 53. {221} 'They [Christians] have never learnt to love, to think, to trust. They have been nursed and bred and swaddled and fed on fear. They are afraid of death: they are afraid of truth: they are afraid of human nature: they are afraid of God.... They deal in a poor kind of old wives' fables, of lackadaisical dreams, of discredited sorcery, and white magic, and call it religion and the holy of holies. They wander about in a sickly soil of intellectual moonshine, where they mistake the dense and sombre shadows for substances. They want to stop the clocks of time that it may never be day, and to hoodwink the eyes of the nations that they may lead the people as so many blind.'--ROBERT BLATCHFORD, _Clarion_, March 3, 1905. {222} APPENDIX III 'In Georgia, indeed, as the Jesuits had found it in South America, the vicinity of a white settlement would have proved the more formidable obstacle to the conversion of the Indian. When Tounchichi was urged to listen to the doctrines of Christianity, he keenly replied, "Why, there are Christians at Savannah! there are Christians at Frederica!" Nor was it without good apparent reason that the poor savage exclaimed, "Christian much drunk! Christian beat men! Christian tell lies! Devil Christian! Me no Christian!"'--SOUTHEY, _Life of John Wesley_, vol. i. p. 57. 'I was then carried in spirit to the mines where poor oppressed people were digging rich treasures for those called Christians, and heard them blaspheme the name of Christ, at which I was grieved, for to me His name was precious. I was then informed that these heathens were told that those who oppressed them were the followers of Christ, and they said among themselves, "If Christ directed them to use us in this sort, this Christ is a cruel tyrant."'--_Journal of John Woolman_, p. 264. {223} APPENDIX IV 'What many upright and ardent souls have rejected is a misconception, a caricature, a subjective Christianity of their own, a traditional delusion, which no more resembles real Christianity than the conventional Christ of the painted church window resembles Jesus Christ of Nazareth. It is true that at this moment the great majority of the people of this country never go to any place of worship, and this is yet more the case on the Continent of Europe. Does it in the least degree indicate that the masses of the European nations have weighed Christianity in the balance and found it wanting? Nothing of the sort. The overwhelming majority of them have not the faintest conception of what Christianity is. I myself have met a great number of so-called "Agnostics" and "Atheists" in our universities, among our working-men, and in society, but I have never yet met one who had rejected the Christianity of Christ.'--HUGH PRICE HUGHES, Preface to _Ethical Christianity_. {224} APPENDIX V 'Wheresoever Christianity has breathed it has accelerated the movement of humanity. It has quickened the pulses of life, it has stimulated the incentives of thought, it has turned the passions into peace, it has warmed the heart into brotherhood, it has fanned the imagination into genius, it has freshened the soul into purity. The progress of Christian Europe has been the progress of mind over matter. It has been the progress of intellect over force, of political right over arbitrary power, of human liberty over the chains of slavery, of moral law over social corruption, of order over anarchy, of enlightenment over ignorance, of life over death. As we survey this spectacle of the past, we are impressed that this study of history is the strongest evidence for God. We hear no argument from design but we feel the breath of the Designer. We see the universal life moulding the individual lives, the one Will dominating many wills, the Infinite Wisdom utilising the finite folly, the changeless truth permeating the restless error, the boundless beneficence bringing blessing out of all.... And what shall we say of the future? ... Ours is a position in some respects analogous to that of the mediaeval world: the landmarks of the past are fading, the lights in the future are but dimly seen. Yet it is the study of the landmarks that helps us to wait for the light, and our highest hope is born of memory. In the view {225} of that retrospect, we cannot long despair. We may have moments of heart-sickness when we look exclusively at the present hour: we may have times of despondency when we measure only what the eye can see. But looking on the accumulated results of bygone ages as they lie open to the gaze of history, the scientific conclusion at which we must arrive is this, that the course of Christianity shall be, or has been, the path of a shining light, shining more and more unto the perfect day.'--G. MATHESON, _Growth of the Spirit of Christianity_ (chap, xxxviii., 'Dawn of a New Day'). {226} APPENDIX VI 'Shadows and figments as they appear to us to be in themselves, these attempts to provide a substitute for Religion are of the highest importance, as showing that men of great powers of mind, who have thoroughly broken loose not only from Christianity but from natural Religion, and in some cases placed themselves in violent antagonism to both, are still unable to divest themselves of the religious sentiment or to appease its craving for satisfaction. 'That the leaders of the anti-theological movement at the present day are immoral, nobody but the most besotted fanatic would insinuate: no candid antagonist would deny that some of them are in every respect the very best of men.... But what is to prevent the withdrawal of the traditional sanction from producing its natural effect upon the morality of the mass of mankind? ... Rate the practical effect of religious beliefs as low and that of social influences as high as you may, there can surely be no doubt that morality has received some support from the authority of an inward monitor regarded as the voice of God.... 'The denial of the existence of God and of a future state, in a word, is the dethronement of Conscience: and society will pass, to say the least, through a dangerous interval, before social conscience can fill the vacant throne.'--GOLDWIN SMITH, 'Proposed Substitutes for Religion,' _Macmillan's Magazine_, vol. xxxvii. {227} APPENDIX VII 'It no less takes two to deliver the game of Duty from trivial pretence and give it an earnest interest. How can I look up to myself as the higher that reproaches me? issue commands to myself which I dare not disobey? ask forgiveness from myself for sins which myself has committed? surrender to myself with a martyr's sacrifice? and so through all the drama of moral conflict and enthusiasm between myself in a mask and myself in _propria persona_? How far are these semblances, these battles in the clouds, to carry their mimicry of reality? Are we to _worship_ the self-ideality? to _pray_ to an empty image in the air? to trust in sorrow a creature of thought which is but a phenomenon of sorrow? No, if religious communion is reduced to a monologue, its essence is extinct and its soul is gone. It is a living relation, or it is nothing: a response to the Supreme Reality. And vainly will you search for your spiritual dynamics without the Rock Eternal for your [Greek] _pou stô_'--JAMES MARTINEAU, Essays iv. 282, _Ideal Substitutes for God_. {228} APPENDIX VIII 'It is an awful hour--let him who has passed through it say how awful--when life has lost its meaning and seems shrivelled into a span--when the grave appears to be the end of all, human goodness nothing but a name, and the sky above this universe a dead expanse, black with the void from which God himself has disappeared. In that fearful loneliness of spirit ... I know but one way in which a man may come forth from his agony scathless: it is by holding fast to those things which are certain still--the grand, simple landmarks of morality. 'In the darkest hour through which a human soul can pass, whatever else is doubtful, this at least is certain. If there be no God and no future state yet even then it is better to be generous than selfish, better to be chaste than licentious, better to be true than false, better to be brave than to be a coward. Blessed beyond all earthly blessedness is the man who, in the tempestuous darkness of the soul, has dared to hold fast to these venerable landmarks. Thrice blessed is he who, when all is drear and cheerless within and without, when his teachers terrify him and his friends shrink from him, has obstinately clung to moral good. Thrice blessed, because his night shall pass into clear bright day.'--F. W. ROBERTSON, _Lectures, Addresses, etc._, p. 49. {229} APPENDIX IX 'Let me say at once that if after the elimination of all untruths from Christianity, we could build a belief in God and Immortality on the residue, we should then have a far more powerful incentive to right conduct than anything that I am about to urge.'--PHILIP VIVIAN, _Churches and Modern Thought_, p. 323. {230} APPENDIX X 'Without prejudice, what would be the effect upon modern civilisation if the Divine Ideal should vanish from modern thought? 'It would be presumptuous to attempt a description, rather because it is so hard to picture ourselves and our outlook deprived of what we have held during thousands of generations, our very _raison d'être_, than because we cannot calculate at least a part of what would have to happen. Without pretending to undertake that exercise, it may not be too bold to conclude definitely, what has been suggested argumentatively throughout: namely, that moral goodness, as we trace it in the past, as we enjoy it in the present, as we reckon upon it in the future, would be found undesirable and therefore impracticable. A new "morality" would doubtless take its place and set up a new ideal of goodness; but the former would no more represent the elements we so far call moral than the latter would embody the conceptions we now call good: the more logically the inevitable system were followed up, the more progressively would moral inversion be realised. 'It does not seem credible that the new morality could escape being egoistic and hedonistic, and these principles alone would dictate complete reversal of all our present notions as to what is noble, what is useful, what is good. An egoist hedonism that should not be selfish and sensual is a fond {231} superstition; it would have to be both and frankly. All the prophylactic expedients whereby a reciprocal egoism must safeguard its sensuous rights would certainly be there; and they represent in spirit and in practice whatever we have learned to consider execrable. We do not require Professor Haeckel[1] to inform us, with the triumphal rhetoric that accompanies a grand new discovery, of the prudential homicide which is to confer a supreme blessing upon humanity, for it has raged throughout antiquity, and still stalks abroad in daylight wherever the kingdom of men is not also the kingdom of Christ. Ten minutes' thought is sufficient to convince any rational man or woman what must inevitably follow in a world of animal rationalism, where no souls are immortal, where the human will is the supreme will and there is eternal peace in the grave. It could scarcely transpire otherwise than that "euthanasia" should replace care of the chronic sick and indigent aged; that infanticide should be in a large category of circumstances encouraged, and in some compelled; that suicide should offer a rational escape from all serious ills, leaving a door ever hospitably ajar to receive the body bankrupt in its capacity for sensual enjoyment, the only enjoyment henceforth worthy of the name. These are the "virtues" under the new morality; there are other things of which it were not well to speak. Imagination turns its back. In a world that has never been without its gods, among human creatures who have never existed without a conscience, deeds have been done and horrors have been practised through centuries, through ages, that make annals read like ogre-tales and books of travels like the works of morbid novelists; and the worst always goes unrecorded. What then ought we to anticipate for a world yielding obedience to nothing loftier {232} than the human intellect, seeking no prize obtainable outside the individual life time, logically incapable of any gratification outside the individual body, convinced of nothing save eternal oblivion in the ever-nearing and inevitable grave, and reposed on the calm assurance that "goodness" and "badness," "virtue" and "vice" (whatever these terms may then correspond to) are recompensed, indifferently, by nothing better and nothing worse than physical animal death?'--JASPER B. HUNT, B.D., _Good without God: Is it Possible_? p. 51. [1] See _The Wonders of Life_, chap. v., popular translation, and other works. {233} APPENDIX XI 'When we say that God is personal, we do not mean that He is localised by mutually related organs; that He is hampered by the physical conditions of human personality. We mean that He is conscious of distinctness from all other beings, of moral relation to all living things, and of power to control both from without and from within the action of every atom and of every world. This is what we mean by personality in God. It is not a materialistic idea. It is essentially spiritual. It is a breakwater against the destruction of the very thought of God, or the submersion of it in the mere processes of eternal evolution. There is a Pantheism which obliterates every trace of Divine personality, which takes from God consciousness, will, affection, emotion, desire, presiding and over-ruling intelligence. But such Pantheism is better known as Atheism. It destroys the only God who can be a refuge and a strength in time of trouble. It annihilates that mighty conscience which drives the workers of iniquity into darkness and the shadow of death, if possible, to hide themselves. It closes the Divine Ear against the prayer of faith. It abolishes all sympathy, all communion between the Father and the children. It makes God not the world's life, but the world's grave. Therefore, against all such Pantheism our being revolts.'--PETER S. MENZIES, _Sermons_ ('Christian Pantheism'). {234} APPENDIX XII 'There is an Old Testament Pantheism speaking unmistakably out of the lips of the Prophets and the Psalmists, ... so interwoven with their deepest thoughts of God, that any hesitation to receive it would have been traced by them most probably to purely heathen conditions of thought, which ascribes to every divinity a limited function, a separate home, and a restricted authority.... But undoubtedly the most unequivocal and outspoken Pantheist in the Bible is St. Paul. He speaks in that character to the Athenians, affirming all men to be the offspring of God, and, as if this were not a sufficiently close bond of affinity, adding, "In Him we live and move and have our being." His Pantheistic eschatology casts a radiance over the valley of the shadow of death, which makes the 15th chapter of 1st Corinthians one of the most precious gifts of Divine inspiration which the holy volume contains. "And when all things shall be subdued unto Him, then shall the Son also Himself be subject unto Him that put all things under Him, that God may be all and all." Nor, if he had wished to administer a daring shock to the ultra-Calvinism of our own Confessional theology, could he have uttered a sentiment more hard to reconcile with any view of the Universe that is not Pantheistic than that contained in the 32nd verse of the present chapter: "For God hath concluded them all in unbelief that He might have mercy upon all." It {235} is quite clear in the face of all this Scripture evidence that there is a form of Pantheism which is not only innocent, defensible, justifiable, but which we are bound to teach as of the essence of all true theology. Nothing could be more childish than that blind horror of Pantheism which shudders back from it as the most poisonous form of rank infidelity.'--PETER S. MENZIES, _Sermons_ ('Christian Pantheism'), {236} APPENDIX XIII 'Pantheism gives noble expression to the truth of God's presence in all things, but it cannot satisfy the religious consciousness: it cannot give it escape from the limitations of the world, or guarantee personal immortality or (what is most important) give any adequate interpretation to sin, or supply any adequate remedy for it.... Christian theology is the harmony of Pantheism and Deism. On the one hand Christianity believes all that the Pantheist believes of God's presence in all things. "In Him," we believe, "we live and move and are; in Him all things have their coherence." All the beauty of the world, all its truths, all its goodness, are but so many modes under which God is manifested, of whose glory Nature is the veil, of whose word it is the expression, whose law and reason it embodies. But God is not exhausted in the world, nor dependent upon it: He exists eternally in His Triune Being, self-sufficing, self-subsistent.... God is not only in Nature as its life, but He transcends it as its Creator, its Lord--in its moral aspect--its Judge. So it is that Christianity enjoys the riches of Pantheism without its inherent weakness on the moral side, without making God dependent on the world, as the world is on God.'--BISHOP GORE, _The Incarnation of the Son of God_, p. 136. {237} APPENDIX XIV 'The Supreme Power on this petty earth can be nothing else but the Humanity, which, ever since fifty thousand--it may be one hundred and fifty thousand--years has slowly but inevitably conquered for itself the predominance of all living things on this earth, and the mastery of its material resources. It is the collective stream of Civilization, often baffled, constantly misled, grievously sinning against itself from time to time, but in the end victorious; winning certainly no heaven, no millennium of the saints, but gradually over great epochs rising to a better and a better world. This Humanity is not all the human beings that are or have been. It is a living, growing, and permanent Organism in itself, as Spencer and modern philosophy establish. It is the active stream of Human Civilization, from which many drop out into that oblivion and nullity which is the true and only Hell.'--F. HARRISON, _Creed of a Lagman_, p. 72. {238} APPENDIX XV Mr. Frederic Harrison's Creed 'is open to every objection which he so justly brings against what he regards as Mr. Spencer's Creed. These reasons are broad, common, and familiar. So far as I know they never have been, and I do not believe they ever will be, answered. The first objection is that Humanity with a capital H (Mr. Harrison's God) is neither better nor worse fitted to be a God than his Unknowable with a capital U. They are as much alike as six and half-a-dozen. Each is a barren abstraction to which any one an attach any meaning he likes. Humanity, as used by Mr. Harrison, is not an abstract name for those matters in which all human beings as such resemble each other, as, for instance, a human form and articulate speech.... Humanity is a general name for all human beings who, in various ways, have contributed to the improvement of the human race. The Positivist calendar which appropriates every day in the year for the commemoration of one or more of these benefactors of mankind is an attempt to give what a lawyer would call "further and better particulars" of the word. If this, or anything like this, be the meaning of Mr. Harrison's God, I must say that he, she, or it appears to me quite as ill-fitted for worship as the Unknowable. How can a man worship an indefinite number of dead people, most of whom are unknown to him even by name, and many of whose characters {239} were exceedingly faulty, besides which the facts as to their lives are most imperfectly known? How can he in any way combine these people into a single object of thought? An object of worship must surely have such a degree of unity that it is possible to think about it as distinct from other things, as much unity at least as the English nation, the Roman Catholic Church, the Great Western Railway. No doubt these are abstract terms, but they are concrete enough for practical purposes. Every one understands what is meant when it is asserted that the English nation is at war or at peace; that the Pope is the head of the Roman Catholic Church; that the Great Western Railway has declared a dividend; but what is Humanity? What can any one definitely assert or deny about it? How can any one meaning be affixed to the word so that one person can be said to use it properly and another to abuse it? It seems to me that it is as Unknowable as the Unknowable itself, and just as well, and just as ill, fitted to be an object of worship.'--SIR JAMES FITZJAMES STEPHEN, 'The Unknowable and Unknown,' _Nineteenth Century_, June 1884. {240} APPENDIX XVI 'Deism and Pantheism are both so irrational, so utterly inadequate to explain the simplest facts of our moral and spiritual life that neither of them can long hold mankind together. Positivism, which has made a systematic and memorable attempt to fill the gap, itself bears witness to the craving of human nature for some stronger bond than such systems can supply; while its appreciation of the necessity of Religion gives it an importance not possessed by mere Agnosticism. Yet it is impossible to look at an encyclopædic attempt to grasp all knowledge and all history, such as that made by the founder of Positivism, without a deep, oppressive sadness.... 'Can men heap fact upon fact and connect science with science in a splendid hierarchy and find no better end than this? Is such a review to come to this, that we must worship either actual humanity with all its meanness and wickedness, or ideal humanity which does not yet exist, and, if this world is all in all, may never come into being? ... For ideal humanity, however moral and enlightened, if unaided by God, as the Posivitist holds, is still earth-bound and sense-bound.... We are told that it is common sense to recognise that much is beyond us. Perfectly true. But it is not common sense to worship an ignorant and weak humanity which certainly made nothing, and has in itself no assurance {241} of continuance in the future, nay rather, a very clear probability of destruction, if simply left to itself. 'What Positivism surely needs to give it hope and consistency is the doctrine of the Logos, of the Eternal Word and Reason, the Creator, Orderer, and Sustainer of all things, Who has taken a stainless human nature that He might make men capable of all knowledge. This Divine Humanity of the Logos, drawing mankind into Himself, is indeed worthy of all worship. In loving Him, we learn really what it is to "live for others." In looking to Him we cease from selfishness and pride. Such a worship of humanity is not a mere baseless hope, but a reality appearing in the very midst of history, a reality apprehended by Faith indeed, but by a Faith always proving itself to those, and by those, who hold it fast in Love. There is room, then, ample room, and a loud demand for the re-establishment of a Christian Philosophy based upon the Incarnation.'--JOHN WORDSWORTH (Bishop of Salisbury), _The One Religion_, pp. 307-309. {242} APPENDIX XVII The invariable laws under which Humanity is placed have received various names at different periods. Destiny, Fate, Necessity, Heaven, Providence, all are so many names of one and the same conception: the laws which man feels himself under, and that without the power of escaping from them. We claim no exemption from the common lot. We only wish to draw out into consciousness the instinctive acceptance of the race, and to modify the spirit in which we regard them. We accept: so have all men. We obey: so have all men. We venerate: so have some in past ages or in other countries. We add but one other term--we love. We would perfect our submission and so reap the full benefits of submission in the improvement of our hearts and tempers. We take in conception the sum of the conditions of existence, and we give them an ideal being and a definite home in space, the second great creation which completes the central one of Humanity. In the bosom of space we place the world, and we conceive of the world and this our Mother Earth as gladly welcomed to that bosom with the simplest and purest love, and we give our love in return. Thou art folded, thou art lying In the light which is undying. 'Thus we complete the Trinity of our religion, Humanity, the World, and Space. So completed we recognise power to {243} give unity and definiteness to our thoughts, purity and warmth to our affections, scope and vigour to our activity. We recognise its powers to regulate our whole being, to give us that which it has so long been the aim of all religion to give--internal union. We recognise its power to raise us above ourselves and by intensifying the action of our unselfish instincts to bear down unto their due subordination our selfishness. We see in it yet unworked treasures. We count not ourselves to have apprehended but we press forward to the prize of our high calling. But even now whilst its full capabilities are unknown to us, before we have apprehended, we find enough in it to guide and strengthen us.'--'_The New Religion in its Attitude towards the Old_: A Sermon preached at South Field, Wandsworth, Wednesday, 19th Moses 71 (19th January 1859), on the anniversary of the birth of Auguste Comte, 19th January 1798, by RICHARD CONGREVE.' J. Chapman: 8 King William Street, Strand, London. {244} APPENDIX XVIII 'We have compared Positivism where it is thought to be strongest with Christianity where it is thought to be weakest. And if the result of the comparison even then has been unfavourable to Positivism, how will the account stand if every element in Christianity be taken into consideration? The religion of humanity seems specially fitted to meet the tastes of that comparatively small and prosperous class who are unwilling to leave the dry bones of Agnosticism wholly unclothed with any living tissue of religious emotion, and who are at the same time fortunate enough to be able to persuade themselves that they are contributing, or may contribute, by their individual efforts to the attainment of some great ideal for mankind. But what has it to say to the more obscure multitude who are absorbed, and wellnigh overwhelmed, in the constant struggle with daily needs and narrow cares, who have but little leisure or inclination to consider the precise rôle they are called on to play in the great drama of "humanity," and who might in any case be puzzled to discover its interest or its importance? Can it assure them that there is no human being so insignificant as not to be of infinite worth in the eyes of Him Who created the Heavens, or so feeble but that his action may have consequence of infinite moment long after this material system shall have crumbled into nothingness? Does it offer consolation to those who are in grief, hope to those who {245} are bereaved, strength to the weak, forgiveness to the sinful, rest to those who are weary and heavy laden? If not, then whatever be its merits, it is no rival to Christianity. It cannot penetrate or vivify the inmost life of ordinary humanity. There is in it no nourishment for ordinary human souls, no comfort for ordinary human sorrow, no help for ordinary human weakness. Not less than the crudest irreligion does it leave us men divorced from all communion with God, face to face with the unthinking energies of Nature which gave us birth, and into which, if supernatural religion be indeed a dream, we must after a few fruitless struggles be again resolved.'--RIGHT HON. ARTHUR J. BALFOUR, _The Religion of Humanity_. {246} APPENDIX XIX 'Truly if Humanity has no higher prospects than those which await it from the service of its modern worshippers its prospects are dark indeed. Its "normal state" is a vague and distant future. But better things may yet be hoped for when the true Light from Heaven shall enlighten every man, and the love of goodness shall everywhere come from the love of God, and nobleness of life from the perfect Example of the Lord.'--JOHN TULLOCH, D.D. LL.D., _Modern Theories in Philosophy and Religion_, p. 86. {247} APPENDIX XX Mr. Frederic Harrison came under the influence of both the Newmans. 'John Henry Newman led me on to his brother Francis, whose beautiful nature and subtle intelligence I now began to value. His _Phases of Faith, The Soul, The Hebrew Monarchy_ deeply impressed me. I was not prepared either to accept all this heterodoxy nor yet to reject it; and I patiently waited till an answer could be found.'--_The Creed of a Layman_. {248} APPENDIX XXI Even Mr. Voysey admits the constraining power of the Cross: 'That is still the noblest, most sublime picture in the whole Bible, where the Christ is hanging on the Cross, and the tears and blood flow trickling down, and the last words heard from His lips are "Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do." That love and pity will for ever endure as the type and symbol of what is most Divine in the heart of man. Thank God! it has been repeated and repeated in the lives and deaths of millions besides the Christ of Calvary. But wherever found it still claims the admiration, and wins the homage of every human heart, and is the crowning glory of the human race.--C. VOYSEY, _Religion for All Mankind_, p. 105. {249} APPENDIX XXII 'Not only the Syrian superstition must be attacked, but also the belief in a personal God which engenders a slavish and oriental condition of the mind, and the belief in a posthumous reward which engenders a selfish and solitary condition of the heart. These beliefs are, therefore, injurious to human nature. They lower its dignity, they arrest its development, they isolate its affections. We shall not deny that many beautiful sentiments are often mingled with the faith in a personal Deity, and with the hopes of happiness in a future state; yet we maintain that, however refined they may appear, they are selfish at the core, and that if removed they will be replaced by sentiments of a nobler and purer kind.'--WINWOOD READE, _Martyrdom of Man_, p. 543. {250} APPENDIX XXIII 'There is a servile deference paid, even by Christians, to incompetent judges of Christianity. They abjectly look to men of the world, to scholars, to statesmen, for testimonies to the everlasting and self-evidencing verities of heaven! And if they can gather up, from the writings or speeches of these men, some patronising notices of religion, some incidental compliment to the civilising influence of the Bible, or to the aesthetic proprieties of worship, or to the moral sublimity of the character or gospel of Christ, they forthwith proclaim these tributes as lending some great confirmation to the Truth of GOD! So we persist in asking, not "Is it true? true to our souls?" or, "Has the Lord said it?" but, "What say the learned men, the influential men, the eloquent men?" Shame upon these time-serving concessions, as unmanly as they are fallacious. Go back to the hovels, rather, and take the witnessing of the illiterate souls whose hearts, waiting there in poverty or pain, or under the shadow of some great affliction, the Lord Himself hath opened.'--F. D. HUNTINGDON, _Christian Believing and Living_. {251} APPENDIX XXIV 'It is foreign to our purpose to discuss the various theories which have been advanced to explain the genesis and power of the Christian Religion from the cynical Gibbon to the sentimental Renan and the Rationalist Strauss. One remark may be permitted. It has been our lot to read an immense amount of literature on this subject, and with no bias in the orthodox direction, we are bound to admit that no theory has yet appeared which from purely natural causes explains the remarkable life and marvellous influence of the Founder of Christianity.'--HECTOR MACPHERSON, _Books to Read and How to Head Them_. {252} APPENDIX XXV The Song of a Heathen Sojourning in Galilee, A.D. 32. If Jesus Christ is a man, And only a man, I say That of all mankind I cleave to Him, And to Him will I cleave alway. If Jesus Christ is a God, And the only God, I swear I will follow Him through heaven and hell, The earth, the sea, and the air! RICHARD WATSON GILDER. {253} APPENDIX XXVI 'I distinguish absolutely between the character of Jesus and the character of Christianity--in other words between Jesus of Nazareth and Jesus the Christ. Shorn of all supernatural pretensions, Jesus emerges from the great mass of human beings as an almost perfect type of simplicity, veracity, and natural affection. "Love one another" was the Alpha and Omega of His teaching, and He carried out the precept through every hour of His too brief life.... But how blindly, how foolishly my critics have interpreted the inner spirit of my argument, how utterly have they failed to realise that the whole aim of the work is to justify Jesus against the folly, the cruelty, the infamy, the ignorance of the creed upbuilt upon His grave. I show in cipher, as it were, that those who crucified Him once would crucify Him again, were He to return amongst us. I imply that among the first to crucify Him would be the members of His Own Church. But nowhere surely do I imply that His soul, in its purely personal elements, in its tender and sympathising humanity was not the very divinest that ever wore earth about it.'--ROBERT BUCHANAN in Letter of January 1892 to _Daily Chronicle_ regarding his poem _The Wandering Jew_. _Robert Buchanan: His Life, Life's Work, and Life's Friendships_, by Harriett Jay, pp. 274-5. {254} APPENDIX XXVII 'I do not believe I have any personal immortality. I am part of an immortality perhaps, but that is different. I am not the continuing thing. I personally am experimental, incidental. I feel I have to do something, a number of things no one else could do, and then I am finished, and finished altogether. Then my substance returns to the common lot. I am a temporary enclosure for a temporary purpose: that served, and my skull and teeth, my idiosyncrasy and desire will disperse, I believe, like the timbers of the booth after a fair.'--H. G. WELLS, _First and Last Things_, p. 80. {255} APPENDIX XXVIII 'The estate of man upon this earth of ours may in course of time be vastly improved. So much seems to be promised by the recent achievements of Science, whose advance is in geometrical progression, each discovery giving birth to several more. Increase of health and extension of life by sanitary, dietetic, and gymnastic improvement; increase of wealth by invention and of leisure by the substitution of machinery for labour: more equal distribution of wealth with its comforts and refinements; diffusion of knowledge; political improvement; elevation of the domestic affections and social sentiments; unification of mankind and elimination of war through ascendency of reason over passion--all these things may be carried to an indefinite extent, and may produce what in comparison with the present estate of man would be a terrestrial paradise. Selection and the merciless struggle for existence may be in some measure superseded by selection of a more scientific and merciful kind. Death may be deprived at all events of its pangs. On the other hand, the horizon does not appear to be clear of cloud.... Let our fancy suppose the most chimerical of Utopias realised in a commonwealth of man. Mortal life prolonged to any conceivable extent is but a span. Still over every festal board in the community of terrestrial bliss will be cast the shadow of approaching death; and the sweeter life becomes the more bitter death will be. {256} The more bitter it will be at least to the ordinary man, and the number of philosophers like John Stuart Mill is small.'--GOLDWIN SMITH: _Guesses at the Riddle of Existence_ ('Is There Another Life?'). 'In return for all of which they have deprived us, some prophets of modern science are disposed to show us in the future a City of God _minus_ God, a Paradise _minus_ the Tree of Life, a Millennium with education to perfect the intellect, and sanitary improvements to emancipate the body from a long catalogue of evils. Sorrow no doubt will not be abolished; immortality will not be bestowed. But we shall have comfortable and perfectly drained houses to be wretched in. The news of our misfortunes, the tidings that turn the hair white, and break the strong man's heart will be conveyed to us from the ends of the earth by the agency of a telegraphic system without a flaw. The closing eye may cease to look to the land beyond the River; but in our last moments we shall be able to make a choice between patent furnaces for the cremation of our remains, and coffins of the most charming description for their preservation when desiccated.'--Archbishop ALEXANDER: _Witness of the Psalms to Christ and Christianity_, p. 48. {257} AUTHORITIES CONSULTED Abbott, E. A., _Through Nature to Christ_. Armstrong, E. A., _Back to Jesus; Man's Knowledge of God; Agnosticism and Theism in the Nineteenth Century_. Arthur, W., _God without Religion; Religion without God_. Aveling, F. (edited by), _Westminster Lectures_. Balfour, A. J., _Religion of Humanity; Foundations of Belief_. Ballard, F., _Clarion Fallacies; Miracles of Unbelief_. _Barker, Joseph, Life of_. Barry, W., _Heralds of Revolt_. Bartlett, R. E., _The Letter and the Spirit_. Besant, Annie, _Esoteric Christianity_. Blatchford, R., _God and My Neighbour_. Blau, Paul, '_Wenn ihr Mich Kennetet_.' Bousset, W., _Jesus; What is Religion?; The Faith of a Modern Protestant_. Brace, G. Loring, _Gesta Christi_. Bremond, H., 'Christus Vivit' (Epilogue of _L'Inquiétude Religieuse_). Broglie, L'Abbé Paul de, _Problèmes et Conclusions; La Morale sans Dieu_. Brooks, Phillips, Bishop, _The Influence of Jesus_. Butler, Bishop, _The Analogy of Religion_. {258} Caird, E., _The Evolution of Religion; The Social Philosophy and Religion of Comte_. Caird, J., _Fundamental Ideas of Christianity_. Cairns, D. S., _Christianity in the Modern World_. Carey, Vivian, _Parsons and Pagans_. Caro, E., _L'Idée de Dieu et ses Nouveaux Critiques; �tudes Morales; Problèmes de Morale Sociale_. Chesterton, G. K., _Heretics; Orthodoxy_. Church, K. W., _Gifts of Civilization; Pascal and other Sermons_. Clarke, J. Freeman, _Steps to Belief_. Cobbe, Frances Power, _A Faithless World; Broken Lights; Autobiography_. Coit, Stanton, _National Idealism and a State Church_. Comte, Auguste, _Catechism of Positive Religion_ (translated by Richard Congreve). _Contentio Veritatis_. Conway, Moncure D., _The Earthward Pilgrimage_. Craufurd, A. H., _Christian Instincts and Modern Doubt_. Crooker, J. H., _The Supremacy of Jesus_. D'Alviella, G., _Revolution Religieuse Contemporaine_. Davies, O. Maurice, _Heterodox London_. Davies, Llewelyn, _Morality according to the Lord's Supper_. _Do we Believe_? (Correspondence from _Daily Telegraph_.) Drawbridge, C. L., _Is Religion Undermined_? Drummond, J., _Via, Veritas, Vita_. Du Bose, W. P., _The Gospel and the Gospels_. Eaton, J. R. T., _The Permanence of Christianity_. Faber, Hans, _Das Christentum der Zukunft_. Fairbairn, A. M., _Christ in Modern Theology_. {259} Farrar, A. S., _Critical History of Free Thought_. Farrar, F. W., _Seekers after God; Witness of History to Christ_. Fiske, John, _The Idea of God as Affected by Modern Knowledge; Through Nature to God; Man's Destiny_. Fitchett, W. H., _Beliefs of Unbelief_. Flint, R., _Theism; Anti-Theistic Theories_. Footman, H., _Reasonable Apprehensions and Reassuring Hints_. Fordyce, J., _Aspects of Scepticism_. Forrest, D. W., _The Christ of History and of Experience_. Frommel, Gaston, _�tudes Religieuses et Sociales; �tudes Morales et Religieuses_. Gindraux, J., _Le Christ et la Pensée Moderne_ (Translation from Pfennigsdorf). Gladden, Washington, _How Much is Left of the Old Doctrines_? Gore, O., Bishop, _The Incarnation of the Son of God; The Christian Creed_. Guyau, M., _L'Irréligion de l'Avenir; La Morale sans Sanction_. Haeckel, E., _Riddle of the Universe; The Confession of Faith of a Man of Science_. Harnack, Adolf, _What is Christianity?; Christianity and History_. Harrison, A. J., _Problems of Christianity and Scepticism_. Harrison, Frederic, _Memories and Thoughts; The Creed of a Layman_. Haw, George (edited by), _Religious Doubts of Democracy_. Henson, H. Hensley, _Popular Rationalism; The Value of the Bible_. Hillis, N. D., _Influence of Christ in Modern Life_. {260} Hoffmann, F. S., _The Sphere of Religion_. Hunt, Jasper B., _Good without God_. Hunt, John, _Christianity and Pantheism_. Hutton, R. H., _Essays Theological and Literary; Contemporary Thought and Thinkers; Aspects of Religious and Scientific Thought_. Huxley, T. H., _Evolution and Ethics_. Illingworth, J. R., _Personality Human and Divine; Divine Immanence_. _Is Christianity True_? (Lectures in Central Hall, Manchester). Jastrow, Morris, _The Study of Religion_. Jefferies, Richard, _The Story of my Heart: My Autobiography_. Jones, Harry (edited by), _Some Urgent Questions in Christian Lights_. Kutter, Herrmann, _Sie Müssen_. Lecky, W. E. H., _History of European Morals_. Liddon, H. P., _The Divinity of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ; Some Elements of Religion_. Lilly, W. S., _The Great Enigma; The Claims of Christianity_. Lodge, Sir Oliver, _The Substance of Faith_. Lucas, Bernard, _The Faith of a Christian_. _Lux Hominum_. _Lux Mundi_. Maitland, Brownlow, _Theism or Agnosticism; Steps to Faith_. Mallock, W. H., _Reconstruction of Belief_. {261} Marson, O. L., _Following of Christ_. Martin, A. S., 'Christ in Modern Thought' (Hastings's _Dictionary of Christ and the Gospels_, Appendix). Martineau, Harriet, _Autobiography_. Martineau, James, _Ideal Substitutes for God; A Study of Religion; Hours of Thought_. Matheson, G., _Growth of the Spirit of Christianity_. Matheson, A. Scott, _The Gospel and Modern Substitutes_. Menzies, Allan, _S. Paul's View of the Divinity of Christ_. Menzies, P. S., 'Christian Pantheism' (in _Sermons_). Momerie, A. W., _Belief in God; Immortality; Origin of Evil_. Monod, Wilfrid, _Aux Croyants et aux Athées; Peut-on rester Chrétien_? Mories, A. S., _Haeckel's Contribution to Religion_. Morison, J. Cotter, _The Service of Man_. Mozoomdar, Protab Chandra, _The Oriental Christ_. Myers, F. W. H., _Modern Essays_. Naville, Ernest, _Le Père Céleste; Le Christ; Le Temoignage du Christ et l'Unité du Monde Chrétien_. Neumann, Arno, _Jesus_. Newman, F. W., _The Soul: Its Sorrows and Aspirations; Phases of Faith_. Nolloth, C. F., _The Person of our Lord and Recent Thought_. Oxenham, H. N., _Essays Ethical and Religious_. _Oxford House Tracts_. Palmer, W. S., _An Agnostic's Progress; The Church and Modern Men_. Peile, J. H. F., _The Reproach of the Gospel_. Pfannmüller, Gustav, _Jesus im Urteil der Jahrhunderte_. {262} Picard, L'Abbé, _Christianity or Agnosticism?; La Transcendance de Jésus Christ_. Picton, J. Allanson, _The Religion of the Universe; Pantheism: Its Story and Significance_. Plumptre, E. H., _Christ and Christendom_. _Present Day Tracts_ (R. T. S.). Pringle-Pattison, A. Seth, _Man's Place in the Cosmos_. Reade, Winwood, _The Martyrdom of Man; The Outcast_. _Religion and the Modern Mind_ (St. Ninian's Society Lectures). Renesse, _Jesus Christ and His Apostles and Disciples in the Twentieth Century_. Robinson, O. H., _Human Nature a Revelation of the Divine; Studies in the Character of Christ_. Romanes, G. J., _Thoughts on Religion_. Sabatier, A., _The Religions of Authority and the Religion of the Spirit_. Sanday, W., _Life of Christ in Recent Research_. Savage, M. J., _Religion for To-day; The Life Beyond_. Schmiedel, P. W., _Jesus and Modern Criticism_. Seaver, R. W., _To Christ through Criticism_. _Secularist's Manual_. Seeley, J. R., _Ecce Homo; Natural Religion_. Sen, Keshub Chunder, India asks, _Who is Christ_? Sheldon, H. O., _Unbelief in the Nineteenth Century_. Simpson, P. Carnegie, _The Fact of Christ_. Smith, Goldwin, _Guesses at the Riddle of Existence; Lectures on the Study of History; The founder of Christianity_. Smyth, Newman, _Old Faiths in New Light_. Stanley, A. P., 'Theology of the Nineteenth Century' (in _Essays on Church and State_); _Christian Institutions_. {263} Stephen, J. Fitzjames, 'The Unknowable and Unknown' (_Nineteenth Century_, June 1884); _Liberty, Equality, and Fraternity_. Stephen, Leslie, _An Agnostic's Apology; English Thought in the Eighteenth Century_. Swete, H. B. (edited by), _Cambridge Theological Essays_. Swift, Dean, _The Abolishing of Christianity_. _Topics for the Times_ (S. P. C. K.). Tulloch, J., _Modern Theories in Theology and Philosophy; Movements of Religious Thought_. Van Dyke, H., _The Gospel for an Age of Doubt; The Gospel for a World of Sin_. Vivian, Philip, _The Churches and Modern Thought_. Voysey, C., _Religion for All Mankind_. Wace, H., _Christianity and Morality_. Wallace, Alfred Russel, _Man's Place in the Universe_. Warschauer, J., _The New Evangel; Jesus: Seven Questions; Anti-Nunquam; Jesus or Christ?_ Watkinson, W. L., _Influence of Scepticism on Character_. Weinel, H., _Jesus im Nevmzehnten Jahrhundert_. Welsh, R. E., _In Relief of Doubt_. Wells, H. G., _First and Last Things, A Confession of Faith and Rule of Life_. Wilson, J. M., _Problems of Religion and Science_. Wimmer, R., _My Struggle for Light_. Wordsworth, John, Bishop, _The One Religion_. Young, John, _The Christ of History_. {265} INDEX Abbott, Edwin A., 117. Alexander, Archbishop, 256. Amiel, H. F., 55. Anthropomorphism, 65, 68, 82. Arnold, Matthew, 208. 'Back to Christ,' 212. Balfour, A. J., 244. Bartlett, R. E., 161. Besant, Mrs., 197. Blatchford, Robert, 7, 20, 221. Browning, Robert, 65, 200. Buchanan, Robert, 253. Butler, Bishop, 10, 139. Caird, Principal, 112. Calendar, Positivist, 108. _Caliban upon Setebos_, 65. Carey, Vivian, 6, 26. Chesterton, G. K., 113. Christ the only Way, 129, 207. ---- the substance of Christianity, 173. Christianity, influence of, 24, 28. ---- misrepresentation of, 18, 223. Christians, inconsistency of, 16, 19, 213, 222, 253. _Christmas Eve_, 200. Church, Dean, 9. Clifford, W. K., 103. Cobbe, Frances Power, 144, 149. Coit, Dr. Stanton, 41. Comte, Auguste, 103. Congreve, Richard, 115, 242. Conway, Moncure D., 8. Cowper, William, 78. Criticism, 173. Deism, 139, 143, 164, 236, 240. De Vere, Aubrey, 101. Eliot, George, 56, 208. Enemies, witness of, 177. Fénelon, 78. Fiske, John, 100. Gilder, R. W., 252. Gore, Bishop, 136, 236. Great Being of Positivism, 106, 112, 114. Haeckel, 71. Harrison, Frederic, 84, 96, 102, 108, 110, 237, 238. Hughes, Hugh Price, 223. Humanity, Christ, the Ideal of, 118. ---- Religion of, 93, 103, 105, 237, 238, 242. Huntingdon, Bishop, 250. Immortality, denial of, 54, 60, 254. Impeachments of Christianity, 12, 249. Incarnation, 48, 96. Jefferies, Richard, 73. Law, William, 78. Lefèvre, A., 188. Macpherson, Hector, 251. Man, 93. Martineau, Harriet, 220. ---- James, 227. Material Progress, 255, 256. Matheson, George, 224. Mediation, 157. Menzies, P. S., 233, 234. Mill, John Stuart, 208. Montaigne, 23. Morality and Religion, 33, 39, 146, 229, 230. ---- Religion without, 34. Mozoomdar, P. C., 196. Myers, F. W. H., 56. Newman, F. W., 144, 247. Nietzsche, 220. Pantheism, 65, 81, 233, 234, 236. Personality of God, 44, 70, 147, 233. Picton, J. Allanson, 87. Pope, Alexander, 78. Positivism, 93, 103, 211. Prayer, 43. Reade, Winwood, 5, 120, 249. Renan, E., 192. Roberts, W. Page-, Dean, 112. Robertson, Frederick William, 118, 228. Sabatier, A., 158. Schleiermacher, 77. Schmiedel, P. W., 184. Shelley, 13, 98. Sin, Sense of, 86. Smith, Goldwin, 226, 255. Spencer, Herbert, 71. Spinoza, 76. Stanley, Dean, 77. Stephen, Sir J. F., 50, 58, 238. ---- Sir Leslie, 16. Strauss, D. F., 195. Swift, Dean, 10, 219. Tennyson, 60, 79, 212. 'Theism,' 127, 150, 164. Thomson, James, 78. Tulloch, John, 246. Uniqueness of Christ, 199, 252. Vivian, Philip, 5, 229. Voltaire, 139, 168. Voysey, Rev. Charles, 153, 248. Wallace, Alfred Russel, 100. Warschauer, J., 159, 203. Watts, Charles, 7. Wells, H. G., 189, 254. Wesley, John, 222. Wimmer, R., 193. Woolman, John, 222. Wordsworth, John, Bishop, 240. ---- William, 79. Printed by T. and A. CONSTABLE, Printers to His Majesty at the Edinburgh University Press The Expositors Library Cloth, 2/- net each volume. THE NEW EVANGELISM. Prof. HENRY DRUMMOND, F.R.S.E. THE MIND OF THE MASTER. Rev. JOHN WATSON, D.D. THE TEACHING OF JESUS CONCERNING HIMSELF. Rev. Prof. JAMES STALKER, D.D. FELLOWSHIP WITH CHRIST. Rev. R. W. DALE, D.D., LL.D. STUDIES ON THE NEW TESTAMENT. Prof. F. GODET, D.D. THE LIFE OF THE MASTER. Rev. JOHN WATSON, D.D. STUDIES OF THE PORTRAIT OF CHRIST.-- Vol. I. Rev. GEORGE MATHESON, D.D. STUDIES OF THE PORTRAIT OF CHRIST.-- Vol. II. Rev. GEORGE MATHESON, D.D. THE JEWISH TEMPLE AND THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH. Rev. R. W. DALE, D.D., LL.D. THE TEN COMMANDMENTS. Rev. R. W. DALE, D.D., LL.D. THE FACT OF CHRIST. Rev. P. CARNEGIE SIMPSON, M.A. THE CROSS IN MODERN LIFE. Rev. J. G. GREENHOUGH, M.A. HEROES AND MARTYRS OF FAITH. Prof. A. S. PEAKE, D.D. A GUIDE TO PREACHERS. Principal A. E. GARVIE, M.A., D.D. MODERN SUBSTITUTES FOR CHRISTIANITY. Rev. P. McADAM MUIR, D.D. EPHESIAN STUDIES. Right Rev. H. C. G. MOULE, D.D. THE UNCHANGING CHRIST. Rev. ALEX MCLAREN, D.D., D.LITT. THE GOD OF THE AMEN. Rev. ALEX MCLAREN, D.D., D.LITT. THE ASCENT THROUGH CHRIST. Rev. E. GRIFFITH JONES, B.A. STUDIES ON THE OLD TESTAMENT. Prof. F. GODET, D.D. LONDON: HODDER AND STOUGHTON 
32830	----	The Blessed Dead. THE STATE OF THE BLESSED DEAD. By HENRY ALFORD, D. D., DEAN OF CANTERBURY. LONDON: HODDER AND STOUGHTON, 27, PATERNOSTER ROW. MDCCCLXIX. _The following Discourses were delivered in Canterbury Cathedral during Advent,_ 1868, _and appeared in the_ "Pulpit Analyst," 1869. The State of the Blessed Dead. I. I HAVE already announced that during this Advent season I would call your attention to the state of the blessed dead. My object in so doing is simply that we may recall to ourselves that which Scripture has revealed respecting them, for our edification, and for our personal comfort. And I would guard that which will be said by one or two preliminary observations. With Death as an object of terror, with Death from the mere moralist's point of view, as the termination of human schemes and hopes, we Christians have nothing to do. We are believers in and servants of One who has in these senses abolished Death. Our schemes and hopes are not terminated by Death, but reach onward into a state beyond it. Again, with that state beyond, except as one of blessedness purchased for us by the Son of God, I am not at present dealing. It is of those that die in the Lord alone that I speak. And this being so, it is clear that the first point about them demanding our attention is, the very commencement of their state at the moment of death. And this will form our subject to-day. We shall be guided in its consideration by two texts of Holy Scripture. The one is that where Our Lord answers the prayer of the dying thief that He would remember him when He came into His kingdom, Luke xxiii. 43: "VERILY I SAY UNTO THEE, TO-DAY SHALT THOU BE WITH ME IN PARADISE." And the other is an expression of St. Paul, Phil. i. 23, not improbably taken from those very words recorded in the gospel of that evangelist who was his companion in travel--"TO DEPART AND TO BE WITH CHRIST." Now in both these one fact is simply declared, viz.: that the departed spirit of the faithful man is WITH CHRIST. It is as if one bright light were lifted for us in the midst of a realm brooded over by impenetrable mist. For who knows whither the departed spirit has betaken itself when it has left us here? One of the most painful pangs in bereavement by death is the utter and absolute severance, without a spark of intelligence of the departed. One hour, life is blest by their presence; the next, it is entirely and for ever gone from us, never to be heard of more. One word, one utterance--how precious in that moment of anguish do we feel that it would be! But we are certain it never will be granted us. None has ever come back who has told the story. Where the spirit wakes and finds itself,--this none has ever declared to us; nor shall we know until our own turn comes. Now in such a state of uncertainty, these texts speak for us a certain truth: The departed spirit is WITH CHRIST. I shall regard this revelation negatively and positively: as to what it disproves, and as to what it implies. First, then, it disproves the idea of the spirit passing at death into a state of unconsciousness, from which it is to wake only at the great day of the resurrection. If it is to be with Christ, this cannot be. Christ is in no such state of unconsciousness; He has entered into His rest, and is waiting till all things shall be put under His feet; and it would be a mere delusion to say of the blessed dead, that they shall be with Christ, if they were to be virtually annihilated during this time that Christ is waiting for His kingdom. Besides, how then would the Lord's promise to the thief be fulfilled? What consolation would it have been to him, what answer to his prayer, to be remembered when Jesus came in His kingdom, if these words implied that he should be unconsciously sleeping while the Lord was enjoying his triumph? Therefore we may safely say, that the so-called "sleep of the soul," from the act of death till the resurrection, has no foundation in that which is revealed to us. It is perfectly true, that the state of the departed is described to us as "sleeping in Jesus," or rather, for the words are a misrendering, a having fallen asleep _through_, or _by means of Jesus_. But our texts are enough to show us, that we must not take such an expression for more than it really implies. Sleeping, or falling asleep, was a name current among Jews and Christians, and even among the best of the heathens, for death, implying its peace and rest, implying also that it should be followed by a waking: but apparently with no intent to convey any idea of unconsciousness. It is a term used with reference to us, as well as to the dead. To us, they are as if they were asleep: removed from us in consciousness, as in presence. The idea also of _taking rest_ tended to make this term appropriate. But it must not be used to prove that to which it evidently had no reference. The spirit, then, of the departed does not pass into unconsciousness. What more do we know of it? It is WITH JESUS. We have now to consider what this implies. And in doing so we shall have further to make certain that which we think we have already proved. For first, it clearly implies more than a mere expression of safe-keeping, or reserve for a future state of blessedness. "The righteous souls are in the hand of God, and there shall no harm happen to them." This is one thing: but to be with Christ is another. We might again appeal to the spirit of the promise made to the penitent thief, in order to show this: we might remind you that in the other text, St. Paul is comparing the two states--life in the midst of his children in the faith, and death; and he says, "I have a desire to depart and to be with Christ, which is far better:" better than being with you, my Philippians. So that more must be meant than mere safe keeping in the Redeemer's hands. We may surely say, that nothing less than conscious existence in the presence of Christ can be intended. And if that is intended, then very much more is intended also, than those words at first seem to imply. Remember the contrast which this same Apostle elsewhere draws. "We know," he says, "that while we are present in the body, we are absent from the Lord: for we walk by faith, not by appearance: we are willing rather to be absent from the body and present with the Lord." That is, if we follow out the thought, this present state of dwelling in our home the body is a state of severance from the Lord; but there is a better state, into which we shall be introduced when this house of the body is pulled down: and from the context in that place we may add, much as we wish to be clothed upon with our new and glorious body which is from heaven, yet even short of that, we have learned to prefer being simply unclothed from the body, because thus we shall be present with the Lord. So that we may safely assume thus much, my brethren: that the moment a Christian's spirit is released from the body, it does enter into the presence of our Blessed Lord and Saviour, in a way of which it knows nothing here: a way which, compared to all that its previous faith could know of Him, is like presence of friends compared to absence. Now let us take another remarkable passage of Holy Writ bearing on this same matter. St. John, in his first Epistle says, "Beloved, now are we children of God, and it never yet was manifested what we shall be; but if it should be manifested, we know that we shall be like Him: for we shall see Him as He is:" for this is the more accurate rendering of the words: meaning, if any one could come back, or come down, to us, and tell us what our future state is to be, the information could amount for us now only to this, that we shall be like Him, like Christ; because we shall see Him as He is. And in treating these words at considerable length last year, I pressed it on you that this concluding sentence might bear two meanings: either, we shall be like Him, _because in order to see Him as He is, we_ MUST _be like Him;_ or, _we shall be like Him, because the sight of Him as He is will change us into His perfect likeness_. For, our present purpose, or indeed for any purpose, it matters little which of these meanings we take. At any rate, we have gained this knowledge from St. John's words, that the sight of the Blessed Lord which will be enjoyed by the Christian's spirit on its release from the body, will be accompanied by being also perfectly like Him. Now, here, my brethren, are the elements of an immediate change, blessed and joyous beyond our conception. Let us spend the rest of our time to-day in dwelling upon it. And I will not now insist on the deliverance of the spirit from the infirmity, or pain, or decay of the body; because this is not so in all cases. Many a Christian's spirit is set free from a body in perfect vigour and health. Let us take nothing but what is common to all who believe in and serve the Lord. Now what is our present state with reference to Him whom all Christians love? It is, absence. And it is absence aggravated in a way that earthly absence never is. For not only have we never seen Him, which is a case perfectly imaginable in earthly relations, but also, which hardly is, we have no absolute proof of His existence, nor of His mind towards us. Even as far as this, is matter of faith and not of appearance. We have no token, no communication, from Him. I suppose there hardly ever was a Christian yet, living under the present dispensation, entirely dependent upon his faith, who has not at some time or other had the dreadful thought cross his mind--overborne by his faith, but still not wholly extinguished, "What if it should not be true after all?" And much and successfully as we may contend with these misgivings of unbelief, yet that frame of mind which is represented by them, that wavering, fitful, unsteady faith, ever accompanies us. The distress arising from it is known to every one who has the Christian life in him. Only those never doubt who have never believed: for doubt is of the very essence of belief. But some poor souls are utterly cast down by the fact of its existence--shrink from these half-doubting fits as of themselves deadly sin, and are in continual terror about their soul's safety on this account: others, of stronger minds, regard them truly as inevitable accompaniments of present human weakness, but of course struggle with them, and evermore yearn to be rid of them. Now if what we have been saying be true,--and I have endeavoured not to go beyond the soberest inferences from the plain language of Scripture,--if so much be true, then the moment of departure from the body puts an end for ever to this imperfect, struggling, fitful state of faith and doubt. The spirit that is but a moment gone, that has left that well-known, familiar tabernacle of the body a sudden wreck of inanimate matter, that spirit is with the Lord. All doubt, all misgiving, is at an end. Every wave raised by this world's storms, this world's currents of interest, this world's rocks and shallows, is suddenly laid, and there is a great calm. Certainty, for doubt--the sight of the Lord, for the conflict of assurance and misgiving--the face of Christ, for the mere faith in Christ--these have succeeded, because the departed spirit is "with the Lord"--companying with Him. Before we follow this out farther, let us carefully draw one great distinction. We must not make the too common mistake of confusing this sight of the Lord which immediately follows on the act of death, with that complete state of the glorified Christian man, of which we shall have to speak in a subsequent sermon. Though greater than our thoughts can now conceive, the bliss of which we are speaking to-day is incomplete. The spirit which has been set free from the body is alone, and without a body. This is not the complete state of man. It is a state to us full of mystery--inconceivable in detail, though easily apprehended as a whole. We must take care, in what we have further to say, that this is fully borne in mind. And, bearing it in mind, let us proceed. This sight of Christ, this calm of full unbroken assurance of His nearness and presence, what does it further imply? As far as we can at present see, certainly as much as this. First, the entire absence of evil from the spirit. It would be impossible to be with Christ in any such sense, unless there were entire agreement in will and desire with Him. It would be impossible thus to see Him as He is, without being like Him. Let us imagine, if we can, the effect of the total extinction of evil in any one of our minds. How many energies, now tied and bound with the chain of sin, would spring upward into action! How many imprisoned yearnings would burst their bonds, and carry us onward to higher degrees of good! And all these energies, all these yearnings, can exist in the disembodied spirit. It is in a waiting, a hoping state: the greater the upward yearnings, the greater the accumulated energies for God and His work, the higher will be the measure of glory to be attained after the redemption of the body, and the completion of the entire man. Well--as another consequence, following close on the last, all _conflict_, from that same moment, is at an end. Conflict is ordained for us, is good for us, now. If it were to cease here below, we should fall back. We have not entered into rest, it would not be good for us to enter into rest, in our present state. Here, this little platform, so to speak, of our personality, is drawn two ways, downward and upward: and it is for us who stand thereon, to keep watch and ward that the downward prevail not; but from that moment, the dark links of the downward chain will have been for ever severed, and the golden cord that is let down from the Throne will bear us upward and onward, unopposed. So that as to conflict, there will be perfect rest. And let us remember another matter. If the departed spirit were during this time dwelling on its own unworthiness, casting back looks of self-reproach, weighing accurately God's mercies and its own requitals during life past, there would of necessity be conflict: there would be bitter self-loathing, there would be pangs of repentance. It would seem, then, that during the incomplete and disembodied state, this is not so; but that all of this kind is reserved for a day when account is to be given in the body of things done in the body: and we shall see, when we come to treat of that day specially, how its account will be, for the blessed dead, itself made a blessing. Again, as all evil will be at an end, and all conflict,--so will all labour, "Blessed are the dead which die in the Lord: even so saith the Spirit, for they rest from their labours." Now labour here is a blessing, it is true: but it is also a weariness. It leads ever on to a greater blessing, the blessing of rest. Christ has entered into His rest; and the departed spirit shall be with Christ: faring as He fares, and a partaker of His condition. Any who have lived the ordinary term of human life in God's service (for it is only of such that we are now speaking) can testify how sweet it is to anticipate a cessation of the toil and the harassing of life: to be looking on to keep the great Sabbath of the rest reserved for the people of God. What more may be reserved for us in the glorious perfect state which shall follow the resurrection, is another consideration altogether: but it clearly appears that the intermediate disembodied state is one of rest. And let none cavil at the thought, that thus Adam may have rested his thousands of years, and the last taken of Adam's children only a few moments. Time is only a relative term, even to us. A dream of years long may pass during the sound that awakens a man; and a sleep of hours appears but a second. What do we know of time, except as calculated by earthly objects? Day and night, the recurrence of meals,--these constitute time to us: shut up a man in darkness, and administer his food at irregular intervals, and he loses all count of time whatever. Surely, then, no cavil on this score can be admitted. In that presence where the departed spirits are, one day is as a thousand years, and a thousand years as one day. Let us conclude with a consideration, to a Christian the most glorious of all. The spirit that is with Christ in nearest presence and consciousness, knows Him as none know Him here. Here, we speak of His purity, His righteousness, His love, His triumph and glory, with miserably imperfect thoughts, and in words still more imperfect than our thoughts. We are obliged to employ earthly images to set forth heavenly things. The revelations of Scripture itself are made through a medium of man's invention, and are bounded by our limited vocabulary. But then it will be so no longer. The Apostle compares our seeing _here_ to that of one who beholds the face of his friend in a mirror of metal, sure to be tarnished and distorting: and our vision _there_ to beholding the same face to face,--the living features, the lips that move, the eyes that glisten. That spirit which has but now passed away, knows the love that passes our knowledge; contemplates things which God has prepared for them that love Him, such as eye has never seen, nor ear heard, nor hath it entered into the heart of man to conceive. Therefore, beloved, let us be of good cheer concerning them that have fallen asleep through Jesus: and let us be of good cheer respecting ourselves. Good as it is to obey and serve God here, it has been far better for them to depart and to be with Christ; and it will be far better for us, if we hold fast our faith and our confidence in Him firm unto the end. If to us to live is Christ, then to us to die will be gain. II. WE stand to-day at this point in our consideration of the state of the blessed dead. They depart, and are with Christ. "This day," the day of the departure, they are consciously, blissfully, in His presence. Their faith is turned into sight: their misgivings are changed for certainty: their mourning for joy. Yet, we said, their state is necessarily imperfect. The complete condition of man is body, soul, and spirit. The former of these three, at all events, is wanting to the spirits and souls of the righteous. They are in a waiting, though in an inconceivably blissful state. Of the precise nature of that state,--of its employments, if employments it has, we know nothing. All would be speculation, if we were to speak of these matters. Our concern to-day is with the termination of that their incomplete condition. When shall it come to an end? We have this very definitely answered for us by St. Paul, in a chapter of which we shall have much to say, and in a verse of that chapter which we will take for our text, 1 Cor. xv. 23. Notice, he is speaking of the resurrection of the dead: and he says, "BUT EVERY ONE IN HIS OWN ORDER: CHRIST THE FIRST-FRUITS: AFTERWARD THEY THAT ARE CHRIST'S AT HIS COMING." Well then: from these words it is clear that the end of the expectant state of the blessed dead, and the reunion of their spirits with their risen bodies, will take place AT THE COMING OF CHRIST. Here at once we are met by a necessity to clear and explain that which these words import. In these days, it is by no means superfluous to say that we Christians do look forward to a real personal coming of our Lord Jesus Christ upon this our earth. I sometimes wonder whether ordinary Christian men and women ever figure to themselves what this means. I suppose we hardly do, because we fancy it is so far off from ourselves and our times, that we do not feel ourselves called upon to make it a subject of our practical thoughts. To this we might say, first, that we are by no means sure of this; and then, that even if it were true, the interest of that time of His coming for every one of us is hardly lessened by its not being near us, seeing that if we be His, it will be, whenever it comes, the day of our resurrection from the dead. It is evidently the duty of every Christian man to make it part of his ordinary thoughts and anticipations--that return of the Lord Jesus from heaven, even as He was seen to go up into heaven. Now, our object to-day is to ascertain how much we know from Scripture, without indulging in speculations of our own, about this coming, and this resurrection which shall accompany it. The latter of these two we made the subject of a sermon a very few Sundays ago; but it was not so much with our present view, as to lay down the hope of the resurrection as an element among the foundations of the Christian life. Now one of the first and most important revelations respecting this matter is found in the fourth chapter of 1 Thess., ver. 13-18. These Thessalonians had been, as we learn from the two epistles to them, strangely excited about the coming of the Lord's kingdom. Perhaps the Apostle's preaching among them had taken especially this form; for he was accused before the magistrates of saying that there was besides or superior to Caesar another king, one Jesus. And in this excitement of the Thessalonians, fancying as they did that the Lord's kingdom would come in their own time, they thought that their friends who through Jesus had died a happy death were losers by not having lived to witness the Lord's coming. Indeed, they sorrowed for them as those that had no hope: by which expression it seems likely that they even supposed them to be altogether cut off from the benefits and blessedness of that coming by not having been able to see it in the flesh. Thereupon St. Paul puts them right by saying,--using the same argument as in that great resurrection chapter, 1 Cor. xv.,--that "_if we believe that Jesus Himself died and rose again, even so also those who through Jesus have fallen asleep will God bring with Him_," that is, will God bring back to us when He brings back to us Jesus. You may just observe, by the way, that the whole force of what the Apostle says is very commonly lost, by a wrong method of reading these words. We very commonly hear them read, "will God bring _with_ him." But thus we, as I said, lose the force of the argument, which is:--If Jesus, our first-fruits, our representative, died and rose again, so will all who die in union with Jesus rise again. And in order to that, the same power of God which brings Jesus back to us, will with Him, with Jesus, bring their spirits back, in order to that resurrection. Well, what then? "_This we say unto you by the word of the Lord_"--thus the Apostle introduces, not an argument, not a command or saying of his own, but a special revelation--"_that we, which are alive and remain unto the coming of the Lord_" (for notice that at first, at the early time when these Thessalonian epistles were written, first of all St. Paul's letters, the Apostle looked forward to that day of which neither man nor angel knoweth, as about to come on in his own time) shall have no advantage, no priority, over them which have fallen asleep. And why? For this reason--that "_the Lord Himself shall come down from heaven with a shout, with the voice of the archangel, and with the trump of God; and the dead in Christ shall rise first:_" that is, shall rise before anything else happens--any changing, or summoning to the Lord, of us who are alive. Now here let us pause in the sacred text, and consider what it is which we have before us. Mind, we are speaking to-day, as the Apostle is speaking in this passage, entirely of the blessed dead; of those of whom it may be said that through Jesus their death is but a holy sleep. We have clearly this before us:--at a certain time, fixed in the counsels of God, the Father, known to no created being,--mysteriously unknown also, for He Himself assures us of this in words which no ingenuity can explain away, to the Son Himself in His state of waiting for it,--at that fixed time the Lord, that is, Christ, shall appear in the sky, visible to men in His glorified body; and His coming shall be announced to men by a mighty call, a signal cry, and by the trumpet of God. Now let me at once say that as to such expressions as this, when we are told that they cannot bear their literal meaning, but are only used in condescension to our human ways of speaking, and thus an attempt is made to deprive them in fact of all meaning, I do not recognise any such rule of interpretation. If the _words_ are used to suit our human ways of thinking, I can see no reason why the _things signified_ by those words may not also be used to affect our senses, which will be still human, when the great day comes. As to the sound being heard by all, or as to the Lord being seen by all, I can with safety leave that to Him who made the eye and the ear, and believe that if He says so, He will find the way for it to be so. Now let us follow on with the description. With the Lord Jesus, accompanying Him, though unseen to those below on the earth, will be the myriads of spirits of the blessed dead, And notice,--for it is an important point, since Holy Scripture is consistent with itself in another place on this matter,--that at this coming none are with the Lord, no spirits of the departed, I mean, except those of the blessed dead. In other words, this is not the general coming to judgment, when the whole of the dead shall stand before God, but it is that first resurrection of which the Evangelist speaks in the Apocalypse, when he says, chap. xx. 5, "_The rest of the dead lived not again until_ (a prescribed time which he mentions, whatever that may mean) _the thousand years were finished This is the first resurrection. Blessed and holy is he that hath part in the first resurrection; on such the second death hath no power, but they shall be priests of God and of Christ_." Then, the Lord being still descending from heaven and on the way to this world, the dead in Christ shall rise first--the first thing: the graves shall be opened, and the bodies of the saints that sleep shall come forth, and, for so the words surely imply, their spirits, which have come with the Lord, shall be united to those bodies, each to his own. Here, again, I can see no difficulty. The same body, even to us now on earth, does not imply that the same particles compose it. And even the expression "the same body" is perhaps a fallacious one. In St. Paul's great argument on this subject in 1 Cor. xv. he expressly tells us, that it is not that body which was sown in the earth, but a new and glorified one, even as the beautiful plant, which springs from the insignificant or the ill-favoured seed, is not that which was sown, but a body which God has given. Whatever the bodies shall be, they will be recognised as those befitting the spirits which are reunited to them, as they also befit the new and glorious state into which they are now entering. This done, they who are alive and remain on earth, having been, which is not asserted here, but is in 1 Cor. xv., changed so as to be in the image of the incorruptible, spiritual, heavenly, will be caught up together with the risen saints in clouds, to meet the Lord in the air: to _meet_ Him, because He is in His way from heaven to earth, on which He is about to stand in that latter day. Thus, then, the words which I have chosen for my text will have their fulfilment. Christ has been the first-fruits of this great harvest,--already risen, the first-born from the dead, the example and pattern of that which all His shall be. This was His order, His place in the great procession from death into life; and between Him and His, the space, indefinite to our eyes, is fixed and determined in the counsels of God. The day of His coming hastens onward. While men are speculating and questioning, God's purpose remains fixed. He is not slack concerning His promise, as some men count slackness. His dealings with the world are on too large a scale for us to be able to measure them, but in them the golden rule is kept, every one in his own order. Christ's part has been fulfilled. He was seen alive in His resurrection body; He was seen taking up that body from earth to heaven. And now we are waiting for the next great event, His coming. Wisely has the Church set apart a season in every year in which this subject may be uppermost in our thoughts. For there is nothing we are so apt--nothing, we may say, that our whole race is so determined to forget and put out of sight. It is alien from our common ideas, it ill suits our settled notions, that the personal appearing of Him in whom we believe should break in upon the natural sequence of things in which we are concerned. And the consequence is, that you will hardly find, even among believing men, more than one here and there who at all realizes to himself, or has any vivid expectation of, this personal coming of Christ. Think of the Christian Church as taking its faith and hope from the New Testament; and then compare that faith and hope, as it actually exists with reference to this point, with the New Testament,--and the discrepancy is most remarkable. In the days when it was written, eighteen hundred years ago, every eye was fixed on, every man's thought was busy about, the coming of the Lord. You will hardly find a chapter in the epistles in which it is not spoken of, or alluded to, with earnest anticipation and confidence. Whereas now, when it is brought so much nearer to us, it has almost vanished out of the consideration of the Church altogether. No doubt, something may be said by way of reason why it should occupy a less prominent place in our thoughts than it did in theirs. The Lord's own words, and those of the Divinely-commissioned messengers who announced His return, spoke of it simply as certain, without any note of time being attached. Hence, those who had seen Him depart believed that they themselves should behold Him returning. There can be no doubt in any fair-judging mind that, besides these eye-witnesses, St. Paul, when he wrote that fifth chapter of the Second Epistle to the Corinthians, had a full persuasion that he himself should be of those on whom the house not made with hands that is to be brought from heaven was to be put, without his being unclothed from the earthly tabernacle. He looked at such unclothing in his own case as possible, but was confident that it would not happen so. And again, when, in the over-zeal of the Thessalonians, they imagined that the coming of the Lord was actually upon them, and he in his second Epistle checks and sets right that premature assumption, he does so in words which, as he wrote them, might very well have had all their fulfilment within the lifetime of man. Those words now appear to us in more of the true sense in which the Spirit, who spoke by Paul, intended them: we see that the apostasy there predicted, and the man of sin there set down as to be revealed, are great developments or concentrations of the unbelief of churches and nations; but there is no evidence that the men of that day saw any such meaning in the words. As it was gradually, and not without conflict of thought, revealed to Peter and his side of the apostolic band, that the Gentiles were to be fellow-heirs and partakers of the peace of Christ, so it was gradually, and not without some sickness of hope deferred, made manifest to the Church, that the coming of the Lord should be for ages and generations delayed. Unmistakable indications of this truth appear in the Lord's own prophetic discourses, which we now know how to interpret. And all this is no doubt a reason why the great subject should be less constantly and less vividly before our minds, than it was before theirs. But it is no reason why it should have dropped out altogether; none, why we should almost universally neglect the revelations of Scripture respecting the manner and details of His coming, and confuse them altogether in a vague popular idea of the judgment day; none, why we should forget the mention of the landmarks which He Himself has pointed out along the wilderness journey of His Church,--and so, as far as in us lies, provide for her being unprepared when He appears. The end of the state of waiting of the blessed dead, the end of our present state of waiting will be, that day of His appearing. Let us fix this well in our minds; and do not let us be kept from doing so by being told that there is danger in allowing the fancy to exercise itself on the unfulfilled prophecies. No doubt there is. But I am not exhorting you to exercise your fancy on them. Faith and fancy are two wholly distinct things. To my mind, there can be hardly anything more detrimental to the faith of the Church, than always to be fitting together history and prophecy, magnifying insignificant present or past events into fulfilments of prophetic announcements. They who do this are for ever being refuted by the course of things; and then they shift their ground, and come out as confidently with a new scheme, as they did before with their old one. Nothing can more tend to throw discredit on God's prophetic word altogether; and it is no doubt in part owing to such speculations, that faith in the Lord's coming has become weakened among us. He Himself has told us the great use of His announcements of the future. "_These things have I told you, that, when the time is come, ye may remember that I told you of them_." When and as each prophecy comes to its time to be fulfilled, just as the years of the captivity predicted by Jeremiah were interpreted by the Church in Babylon, so the Lord's predictions, and the predictions of His apostles, will fall each into its place; and the Church, if she endure in faith and watchfulness, will stand on her look-out, and be prepared for the sign of His coming. Let us, my brethren, with regard to those who have left us in the Lord,--let us, with regard to ourselves and our own future, be ever looking for and hasting to that day of God; the day when that better thing which God hath provided for us shall be manifested, and they with us shall be complete, who without us were not perfect. And let us not be discouraged by unpromising signs, or by prevalent unbelief. Remember what our Master has said to us in the services of this day, "Heaven and earth shall pass away; but My words shall not pass away." III. WE have traced the condition of the blessed dead, from their departure and being with Christ, to the glorious day of the resurrection. Their spirits are safe in His keeping, till that day when He shall call their bodies out of the graves, and they shall be once more complete in manhood, body, soul, and spirit. And our present consideration is, What, on that resurrection, is the next thing which shall befall them? Now the best, because the most general text on this matter, is that in Heb. ix. 27, "IT IS APPOINTED UNTO MEN ONCE TO DIE, BUT AFTER THIS, THE JUDGMENT." You will see that here is enounced something common to our nature. We are all to die; we are all to be judged after death. And that this is really true of all, and not merely stated generally, to be met afterwards by special exceptions, St. Paul shows, when he, speaking of things belonging entirely to his own practice, and his own justification before God, says, in 1 Cor. v., "We labour, that whether present in the body or absent from the body, we may be accepted with Him. _For we must all be made manifest_ (there is nothing about _standing_ in the original) _before the judgment seat of Christ, that every one may receive the things done in his body, according to that which he did, whether it be good or bad_." You will see that here he expressly includes himself among those who are to be made manifest before the judgment seat of Christ. Now perhaps you are wondering why I am accumulating this Scripture evidence to show a matter which seems to all so plain. But I have a sufficient reason. And that reason is, because in other passages of Scripture the blessed dead, or rather the believers in Christ, whether living or dead at that day, are spoken of as if they were not subjected to the general judgment of all, but passed into the glorious life without undergoing that judgment. Thus our Blessed Lord Himself; in John v. 24, says, "_Verily, verily, I say unto you, He that heareth My word, and believeth on Him that sent Me, hath eternal life, and cometh not into judgment_" (for that, and not "_condemnation_," is the word used by our Lord),--"_cometh not into judgment, but hath passed out of death into life_." That would seem to mean that the faithful man has already passed over out of death, and all that belongs to death, sin, and guilt, and judgment, into life; and therefore when the judgment comes he can have no part in it, cannot come into it at all, because he is acquitted already through the faith in Him who bore his guilt and took away his sin. And similarly, again, a few verses further on, ver. 29, our Lord says, "_An hour cometh in which all that are in the graves shall hear the voice of the Son of man, and shall come forth: they that have done good unto the resurrection of life; and they that have done evil unto the resurrection of judgment_." That is, I suppose, the one shall rise into eternal life,--into the full bliss of the heavenly state, and the others into the condition, whatever it be, which the judgment shall decide. Of course I am fully aware that I have not quoted these texts as they are read in our English Bibles. The matter stands thus: the word which I have rendered "_judgment_" is the word always meaning judgment--the word occurring in the very next verse where our Lord says, "_As I hear, I judge, and My_ judgment _is just;_" the word used also above in ver. 22, where He says, "_The Father committed all_ judgment _unto the Son_." In those two places, because there was no difficulty, our translators kept the word "_judgment_." But in these other two which I have quoted, because there was an apparent difficulty, they changed "_judgment_" in one verse into "_condemnation_," and in the other into "_damnation_," without any reason or right soever. Indeed, in the latter of the two passages, not only is this so, but the whole sense is broken up by their unfaithfulness. Our Lord having mentioned the resurrection of judgment, proceeds to vindicate the justice of that judgment: "_As I hear, I judge: and My judgment is just, because I seek not Mine own will, but the will of Him that sent Me_." So that the difficulty, which man's meddling with the Bible has tried to remove, does exist in the Bible as it came from God. And we must try to see through it, not to hush it up by being unfaithful to the plain language of our Lord. Nor does it exist here only. Our Lord Himself has given us one great description of the final day of judgment, in His own discourses; and another by the pen of His beloved apostle. We will take the latter first, as being, for our present purpose, the fuller of the two: and we will show in what remarkable point the two agree. In Rev. xx. 4, a passage to which we made reference last Sunday, we find the first resurrection taking place, and the faithful dead rising to reign with Christ during a period known as a thousand years. And it is expressly said, "_The rest of the dead lived not till the thousand years were finished_." Now, I am not here taking upon me to explain the meaning of this, but merely to insist on the fact that, whatever may be the precise import, it is so stated. Well, and what then? When the thousand years are expired, and when the last great victory of the cause of God over evil has been gained, then we read, "_And I saw a great white throne, and Him that sat on it; and I saw the dead, small and great, stand before God; and the books were opened: and another book was opened, which is the book of life; and the dead were judged out of those things which were written in the books, according to their works. And the sea gave up the dead that were in it; and death and Hades gave up the dead that were in them: and they were judged every man according to his works_." So far the description in the Revelation. Now, in that given us by our Lord in Matt. xxv. we find the Son of man coming in His glory, and all the holy angels with Him, and sitting on the throne of His glory, and all the nations gathered before Him. But there is this singular coincidence with the other account, that when the King comes to address those on the right hand and those on the left, He says, "_Inasmuch as ye did it_ (or _did it not_) _unto one of the least of these My brethren, ye did it_ (or _did it not_) _unto Me_." Now "_these My brethren_" cannot of course mean the angels; therefore there must be some with Christ to whom the words must refer. In other words, we have here also the risen saints in glory with the Lord, as in that other account. But we may go even further yet, and may discover more from Scripture respecting the position and employment of these the saints who are with the Lord. When St. Paul in 1 Cor. vi. is dissuading the Corinthians from taking their disputes before the heathen courts to be settled, he says, "_Know ye not that the saints shall judge the world?_" and again, "_Know ye not that we shall judge angels?_" Such expressions as these can bear but one meaning, and that is that the saints of Christ are actually to bear part in the judgment, as His assessors. Further than this we now not. It is not our duty to be wise above that which is written; but it is our duty to be wise up to that which is written: otherwise it was written in vain. What, then, are we to say respecting this apparent discrepancy in the statements of Holy Scripture concerning the dead in Christ? If it be true that it is appointed unto all men once to die, but after that the judgment; if it be true that we all, including even the apostles themselves, shall be manifested, laid open, before the judgment-seat of Christ, how can it be also true that the believer in Christ has already passed from death into life, and therefore cometh not into judgment at all? How can it be true that while others shall rise to a resurrection of judgment, he shall rise to a resurrection of life? How can those descriptions be correct which we have been quoting, of these living and reigning with Christ long before the general judgment, and even taking part in it with Him? I believe the answer is not difficult, and perhaps may best be found by remembering another variety of expression in Scripture respecting a kindred matter; I mean the way in which the saints of God are spoken of in relation to death itself. On the one hand we know that it is appointed unto all men to die; and that the faith and service of the Lord bring with them no exemption from the common lot of all mankind. Not only is this proved every day before our eyes, but Scripture gives us its most direct testimony that those who believe in Christ must expect it. The very expressions, "_the dead in Christ_," "_those who through Jesus have fallen asleep_," show that this is so. Yet again, on the other hand, some passages would almost look as if death itself for the Christian man did not exist. Christ is said to have abolished death; we learn from His own lips that "if a man keep His word he shall never taste of death;" He has said again, "He that liveth and believeth in Me shall never die." Now in this case there is no practical difficulty, yet the variety of expression is very instructive. We all know what lies beneath it; namely, the fact, that though the believer in Christ must undergo the physical suffering of death like other men, yet death has become to him so altogether without terror and curse, that it has been for him deprived of real existence and power. The apostle in Rom. viii. gives the full explanation: "_the body indeed is dead because of sin, but the spirit is life because of righteousness_." Well, now let us apply this to the case before us. Let us take the same solution, and see whether it will not suffice. The Christian shall, like other men, undergo the judgment after death; thus one set of Scripture declarations shall be fulfilled. But to the believer, who has died in the Lord, what is the judgment? He stands before the judgment-seat perfect in the righteousness of Him to whom he is united, and from whom death has not separated him. His sentence of acquittal has been long ago pronounced; he cometh not into judgment, so that it should have any substantial effect in changing or determining his condition. The resurrection is for him not a resurrection of judgment, not one in which the judgment is the leading feature and characteristic, but it is only and purely a resurrection of, and unto life: one in which life is the leading feature and idea. Thus for the blessed dead, the judgment has no dark side: "there is no condemnation to them that are in Christ Jesus." But though it has no dark side, it has a bright one. Never for a moment do the Christian Scriptures lose sight of the Christian reward. Those who die in the Lord, like the rest of men, shall be laid open before the tribunal of Christ. Their sins have been purged away in His atoning blood; they have been washed and justified and sanctified in the name of Jesus and by the spirit of their God. But to what end? for what purpose? Was it merely that they might be saved? No indeed, but that God might be glorified in them by the fruits of their faith and love. And these fruits shall then be made known. The Father who saw them in secret shall then reward them openly. The acts done and the sacrifices made for the name of Christ shall then meet with glorious retribution; yea, even to the least and most insignificant of them,--even according to our Lord's own words,--to the cup of cold water given to one of His little ones. It is much the fashion, I know, in our days, to put aside and to depreciate this doctrine of the Christian reward. It looks to some people like a sort of reliance on our own works and attainments; and so, though they may in the abstract profess a belief in it because it is in Scripture, they shrink from applying it in their own cases or in those of others. Now, nothing can justify such a course. We have no right to discard a motive held up for our adoption and guidance in Scripture. And that this is so held up, who that knows his Bible can for a moment doubt? Think of that saying of our Lord about the cup of cold water just quoted,--think of the series of sayings of which it is the end--"He _that receiveth a righteous man in the name of a righteous man shall receive a righteous man's reward_," etc. Think, again, of that series of commands, to do our alms, our prayers, our abstinences, in secret, each ending with--"_and thy Father which seeth in secret shall reward thee openly_." Think, again, of the parable of the labourers in the vineyard, where the great final blessing at the hand of the Lord is throughout represented to us as reward, or rather--for so the word used properly means--wages for work done. And it is in vain in this case to try to escape from the cogency of our Lord's sayings by alleging that the doctrines of the Cross were not manifested till after His death and glorification. For if this were so, then the apostles themselves had never learned those doctrines. For the apostles constantly and persistently set before us the aiming at the Christian reward as their own motive, and as that which ought to be ours. Hear St. Paul saying that, if he preached the gospel as matter of duty only, it was the stewardship committed to him; but if freely and without pay, a reward, or wages, would be due to him. Hear him again, in expectation of his departure, glorying in the certainty of his reward: "_I have fought a good fight, I have finished my course, I have kept the faith: henceforth there is laid up for me a crown of righteousness, which the Lord the righteous judge shall give me at that day: and not to me only, but to all them also that love His appearing_." Listen to St. John, whom we are accustomed to regard as the most lofty and heavenly of all the apostles in his thoughts and motives. What does he say to his well-beloved Gaius? "_Look to yourselves, that we lose not the things which we have wrought, but that we receive the full reward_." Listen, again, to the writer of the Epistle to the Hebrews, that apostolic man, eloquent and mighty in the Scriptures, and hear him describing the very qualities and attributes of faith, that he who cometh to God must _believe that He is, and that He is a rewarder of them that diligently seek Him_, and saying of one of the first and brightest examples of faith, that _he had respect unto the recompence of reward_. So, then, these holy dead who have died in the Lord will in that judgment have each his reward allotted him according to his service and according to his measure. Then the good that has been done in secret will all come to light. All mere profession, all that has been artificial and put on, will drop off as though it had never been; and the real kernel of the character, the fair dealing and charity and love of the inner soul, will be made manifest before men and angels. Then, not even the least work done for God and for good will be forgotten. How such an estimate of all holy men will be or can be made and published, utterly surpasses our present powers to imagine. We have no faculties now whereby to deal thus truly and fairly with all men: our organs of sense in this present state, and the minds themselves to which those organs convey impressions, are too feeble and limited for the effort required to apprehend all respecting all, as we shall then apprehend it. But this need not form any difficulty in our way to believe that such a thing shall be. The power to understand it and the power to receive it surely do not dwell farther off from our matured powers now, than the full powers of a grownup man from the faculties and conceptions of a child. In all such matters, we are children now. Think we then of the blessed dead at that day of the resurrection, as rising sure of bliss and of their perfection in Him to whom they were united; being as though there were no judgment, seeing that they have One who shall answer for them at the tribunal: judged notwithstanding before the bar of God, and passing not to condemnation, but to their exceeding great and eternal reward. One more thing only now is left us: to ask what we know of that last and perfected state of man--that highest development and dignity of our race, when body, soul, and spirit, freed from sin and sorrow, shall reign with Christ in light. With that question, and its answer, we hope to conclude this course of sermons next Sunday. IV. WE are to speak to-day of the final state of bliss of those who have died in the Lord. Their state of waiting has ended; the resurrection has clothed them again with the body, the final judgment has passed over them, and their last unending state has begun. There are no words in Holy Scripture so well calculated to give a general summary of that state as those concluding ones of a passage from which I have before largely quoted: 1 Thess. iv. 17: "AND SO SHALL WE EVER BE WITH THE LORD." For these words contain in them all that has been revealed of that glorious state, included in one simple description. The bliss of the moment after death consisted in being with Christ: the bliss of unlimited ages can only be measured by the same. Nearness to Him that made us, union with Him who redeemed us, the everlasting and unvexed company of Him who sanctifieth us: what glory, what dignity, what happiness can be imagined for man greater than this? And yet it is not by dwelling upon this, and this alone, that we shall be able to arrive at even that appreciation of heaven which is within our present powers. We may take these words, "for ever with the Lord," and we may find in them, as in our Father's house itself, many mansions. In various ways we are far from the Lord here; in various ways we shall be near Him and with Him there. But first of all we must approach these various mansions through their portals and the avenues which lead up to them. And one of those is the consideration, who, and of what sort, they shall be, of whom we are about to speak. It will be very necessary that we should conceive of them aright. Well, then, they will be men, with bodies, souls, and spirits like ourselves. The disembodied state will be over, and every one will have been reunited to the body which he or she had before death. What do we know of this body? Very glorious thoughts rise up in our minds when we think of it: but in this course of sermons I am not speculating; I am inquiring soberly what is revealed to us about the blessed dead. Well then, again, what do we know of this body of the resurrection? In Phil. iii. 21, there is a revelation on this point. It is there said that "our home is in heaven, from whence also we expect the Saviour, the Lord Jesus Christ: who shall change the body of our degradation that it may be fashioned like unto the body of His glory." And this change is very much dwelt on as a necessary condition of the heavenly state in 1 Cor. xv. "_Flesh and blood_," we are told, _i.e._, this present natural or psychical body, the body whose informing tenant is the animal soul, _cannot inherit the kingdom of God; neither can corruption_, that which decays and passes away, _inherit incorruption_, that state where there is no decay nor passing away. So, then, a change must take place at the resurrection: a change which shall pass also on those who are alive and remain at the Lord's coming. The bodies of the risen saints, and of those who are to join them in being for ever with the Lord, will be spiritual bodies: bodies tenanted and informed in chief by that highest part of man, which during this present life is so much dwarfed down and crushed by the usurpations of the animal soul; viz., his spirit. Now, it would be idle to conceal the fact, that we cannot form any distinct conception what this spiritual body may be. No such thing has ever come within the range of our experience. But some particulars we do know about it, because God has revealed them. And of those, the principal are specified in this very passage: "_It is sown in corruption: it is raised in incorruption_." It cannot decay. Eternal ages will pass over it, and it will remain the same. Again, "_it is sown in dishonour: it is raised in glory_." There will be no shame about it, as there will be no sin. Thus much from these words is undoubted. What else they may imply we cannot say for certain; probably, unimagined degrees of beauty and radiancy, for so the word glory as applied to anything material seems to imply. Further: "_it is sown in weakness: it is raised in power_." That is, I suppose, with all its faculties wonderfully intensified, and possibly with fresh faculties granted, which here it never possessed, and the mind of man could not even imagine. This last also seems to be implied by its being called a spiritual body. As here it was an animal body, subject to the mere animal life or soul, hemmed in by the conditions of that animal life, so there it will be under the dominion of, and suited to the wants of, man's spirit, the lofty and heavenly part of him. And if we want to know what this implies, our best guide will be to contemplate the risen body of our Lord, as we have it presented to us in the gospel narrative. As He is, so are we in this world in our essence even now--and as He is so shall we be entirely there. He is the first-fruits, we follow after as the harvest. What, then, was His resurrection body? While it was a real body and admitted of being touched and seen, and had the organs of voice and of hearing, yet it was not subjected to the usual conditions of matter as to its locomotion, or its obstruction by intervening objects. It retained the marks of what had happened before death. In order to convince the disciples of His identity, our Lord ate and drank before them. We must therefore infer that these were natural acts of His resurrection body, and not merely assumed at pleasure. With a body, then, of this kind will the blessed be clothed upon at the resurrection, and remain invested for ever in glory. Now let us see what further flows from this as an inference. We may further say, that we have implied in it a surrounding of external circumstances fitted to such a state of incorruptibility and glory. Man redeemed and glorified will not be a mere spirit in the vast realms of space, but a glorious body moving in a glorious world. Nor is this mere inference, however plain and legitimate. Holy Scripture is full of it. The power of words does not suffice to describe the beauties and glories of that renewed and unfailing world. I need not quote passage after passage--they are familiar to you all. Nor, again, is it nature alone which shall be glorious above all our conception here. It would appear that art also shall have advanced forward, and shall minister to the splendour of that better world. The prophets in the Old Testament, and the beloved Apostle in the New, vie with one another in describing the heavenly city, the new Jerusalem, adorned as a bride for her husband, lighted by the glory of the indwelling Godhead. _Where_ this glorious abode of Christ and His redeemed shall be, we have not been told by revelation; and it were idle to indulge in speculations of our own. From some expressions in Scripture, it would seem not improbable that it may be this earth itself after purification and renewal: from other passages, it would appear as if that inference were hardly safe, and that other of the bodies in space are destined for the high dignity of being the home of the sons of God. We have now, I believe, cleared the way for the answer to a question which presses upon us to-day: as far, at least, as that answer can be given on this side of death. Of mankind in glory, thus perfected, what shall be the employ? For I need hardly press it on you that it is impossible to conceive of man in a high and happy estate, without an employment worthy of that estate, and in fact constituting its dignity and happiness. Now, some light is thrown on this inquiry by Holy Scripture, but it must be confessed that it is very scanty. It is true that all our meditations on and descriptions of heaven want balance, and are, so to speak, pictures ill composed. We first build up our glorified human nature by such hints as are furnished us in Scripture; we place it in an abode worthy of it: and then, after all, we give it an unending existence with nothing to do. It was not ill said by a great preacher, that most people's idea of heaven was to sit on a cloud and sing psalms. And others, again, strive to fill this out with the bliss of recognising and holding intercourse with those from whom we have been severed on earth. And beyond all doubt such recognition and intercourse shall be, and shall constitute one of the most blessed accessories of the heavenly employment; but it can no more be that employment itself than similar intercourse on earth was the employment of life itself here. To read some descriptions of heaven, one would imagine that it were only an endless prolongation of some social meeting; walking and talking in some blessed country with those whom we love. It is clear that we have not thus provided the renewed energies and enlarged powers of perfected man with food for eternity. Nor, if we look in another direction, that of the absence of sickness and care and sorrow, shall we find any more satisfactory answer to our question. Nay, rather shall we find it made more difficult and beset with more complication. For let us think how much of employment for our present energies is occasioned by, and finds its very field of action in, the anxieties and vicissitudes of life. They are, so to speak, the winds which fill the sail and carry us onward. By their action, hope and enthusiasm are excited. But suppose a state where they are not, and life would become a dead calm; the sail would flap idly, and the spirit would cease to look onward at all. So that, unless we can supply something over and above the mere absence of anxiety and pain, we have not attained to--nay, we are farther than ever from--a sufficient employment for the life eternal. Now, before we seek for it in another direction, let us think for a moment in this way. Are we likely to know much of it? We have before in these sermons adopted St. Paul's comparison by analogy, and have likened ourselves here to children, and that blessed state to our full development as men. Now ask yourselves, what does the child at its play know of the employments of the man? Such portions of them as are merely external and material he may take in, and represent in his sport: but the work and anxiety of the student at his book, and the man of business at his desk, these are of necessity entirely hidden from the child. And so it is onward through the advancing stages of life. Of each of them it may be said, "We know not with what we must serve the Lord, until we come hither." So that we need not be utterly disappointed, if our picture of heaven be at present ill composed: if it seem to be little else than a gorgeous mist after all. We cannot fill in the members of the landscape at present. If we could, we should be in heaven. Remembering this our necessary incapacity for the inquiry, let us try to carry it as far as we may. And that we may not be forsaking the guidance of Holy Scripture for mere speculation, let us take the words of St. Paul--"_Now we see in a mirror, obscurely, but then face to face: now I know in part, but then I shall know even as also I was known_ (_by God_.)" This immense accession of light and knowledge must of course be interpreted partly of keener and brighter faculties wherewith the blessed shall be endowed; but shall it not also point to glorious employment of those renewed and augmented powers? How could one endowed with them ever remain idle? What a restless, ardent, many-handed thing is genius even here below? How the highly endowed spirit searches about and tries its wings, now hither now thither, in the vast realms of intellectual life! And if it be so here, with the body weighing on us, with the clogs of worldly business and trivial interruption, what will it be there, where everything will be fashioned and arranged for this express purpose, that every highest employment may find its noblest expansion without let or hindrance? Besides, think for a moment of the relative positions of men with regard to any even the least amount of this light and knowledge of which we are speaking. In order to take in this the better, think of the lowest and most ignorant of mankind who shall attain to that state of glory. Measure the difference between such a spirit and an Augustine, and then recollect that Augustine himself, that St. Paul himself, was but a child in comparison of the maturity of knowledge and insight which all shall there acquire. Such a thought may serve to show us what a gap must be bridged over, before any such perfect knowledge will be attained by any of the sons of men. And when we remember that all blessings come by labour and the goodly heat of exercised energy, shall we deny to the highest of all states the choicest of all blessings? So that the attainment of, and advance in, the light and knowledge peculiar to that glorious land must be imagined as affording unending employment for the blessed hereafter. And this gives us another insight into the matter. As there is so great disparity among men here, so we may well believe will there be there. All Scripture goes to show that there will be no general equalizing, no flat level of mankind. Degrees and ranks as they now are, indeed, there will be none. Not the possession of wealth, not the accident of birth, which are held here to put difference between man and man, will make any distinction there: but inequality and distinction will proceed on other grounds; the amount of service done for God, the degree of entrance into the obedience and knowledge of Him, these will put the difference between one and another there. But we hasten to a close: and in doing so, we come back to the simple words of our text, "for ever with the Lord;" and we would leave on your minds the impression that these, after all, furnish the best key to the employment of the blessed in heaven. If they are fit companions for the Lord, then must they be like Him as He is there; and thus we seem to have marked out an employment alone sufficient for eternity. Look at it in its various aspects. What is, what will be, the Lord doing in that state of blessedness? Will He be idle like the gods of Epicurus, sitting serene above all, and separate from all, created things? No, indeed, no such glorified Lord is revealed to us in Holy Scripture. "My Father worketh hitherto, and I work." The created universe will be then as much beholden to His upholding hand as it is now. If they are to be for ever with Him, attending and girding His steps, they, too, will doubtless be fellow-workers with Him there, as they were here. And in this, only consider how much of His creation was altogether hidden from them here! Look abroad on a starry night--behold a field of employment for those who shall be ever with the Lord. The greater part of His works never came within sight of this our mortal eye at all. These are only hints, it is true, which we have no power of following out: but they may serve for finger-posts to point to whole realms of possible blessed employment. Then, again, there is more in the words "for ever with the Lord" than even this. Who can tell what past works, not of creation only, but of grace also, the blessed may have to search into--works wrought on themselves and others which may then be brought back to them by memory entirely restored, and then first studied with any power to comprehend or to be thankful for them? Then, again, the glory of God Himself, then first revealed to them,--the redeeming love of Christ,--the glory of the mystery of the indwelling of the Spirit,--dry and lofty subjects to the sons of men here, will be to them when there as household words and as daily pursuits. It seems to me, my brethren, when we look at all these sources of blessed employment, though we are unable from our present weakness to follow them out into detail,--and when we think that perhaps after all in our earthly blindness we may be omitting some which shall there constitute the chief, it seems to me, I say, as if we should have to complain not of insufficient employ for the ages of eternity, but of an infinite and inexhaustible variety, for which even endless ages of limited being hardly seem to suffice. Such, then, beloved, are the thoughts which have occurred to us on a subject of which I pray that it may be one of personal interest to every one here present. When we are to leave this present state, is a matter hidden from our eyes, and not dependent on ourselves: but how we will leave it, whether as the Lord's blessed ones, or with no part in Him, this is left for ourselves to determine. There is set before us life and death. May we choose life, that it may be well with us; that we may wake from the bed of death and find ourselves with the Lord; that we may pass in joyful hope through the waiting and disembodied state, and wake at the morning of the resurrection to that fulness of completed bliss of which we have this day been speaking. _Pardon and Sons, Printers, Paternoster Row_. New and Recent Works. _The Prophecies of our Lord and His Apostles_. By W. HOFFMANN, D.D., Chaplain in Ordinary to the King of Prussia. Crown 8vo, price 7s. 6d. cloth. _The Education of the Heart: Woman's Best Work_. By Mrs. ELLIS, Author of "The Women of England," &c. Fcap. 8vo, price 3s. 6d. cloth. _The Divine Mysteries; The Divine Treatment of Sin, and the Divine Mystery of Peace_. By J. BALDWIN BROWN, B. A., Author of "The Soul's Exodus," &c. New Edition. Crown 8vo, 7s. 6d. cloth. _Misread Passages of Scripture_. By the same Author. Third Thousand. Crown 8vo, 3s. 6d. cloth. _Saint Mark's Gospel_. A New Translation, with Notes and Practical Lessons. By Professor J. H. GODWIN, New College, London, Author of "The Apocalypse of St. John," &c. Crown 8vo, 4s. 6d. _The Son of Man: Discourses on the Humanity of Jesus Christ_. With an Address on the Teaching of Jesus Christ. By FRANK COULIN, D.D., Minister of the National Church, Geneva. Fcap. 8vo, 5s. cloth. London: HODDER & STOUGHTON, 27, Paternoster Row. WORKS BY E. DE PRESSENSE D.D. _The Early Years of Christianity_. 8vo, 12s. cloth. "This is a sequel to Dr. Pressense's celebrated book on the 'Life, Work, and Times of Jesus Christ.' We may say at once that to the bulk of liberal Christians Dr. Pressense's achievement will be very valuable."--_Athenaum_. "He holds his brilliant intellectual gifts and his profound learning subordinate to his fervent and absolute faith in the divinity of lie Lord and Saviour."--_Daily Telegraph_. _Jesus Christ: His Times, Life, and Work._ Third and Cheaper Edition, crown 8vo, 9s. cloth. "One of the most valuable additions to Christian literature which the present generation has seen."--_Contemporary Review._ "M. de Pressense is not only brilliant and epigrammatic, but his sentences flow on from page to page with a sustained eloquence which never wearies the reader. The 'Life of Christ' is more dramatically unfolded in this volume than in any other work with which we are acquainted."--Spectator. _The Mystery of Suffering, and other Discourses_. New Edition, crown 8vo, price 3s. 6d. cloth. _The Land of the Gospel: Notes of a Journey in the East_. Crown 8vo, 5s. cloth. _The Church and the French Revolution_. A History of the Relations of Church and State from 1789 to 1802. Crown 8vo, 9s. cloth. London: HODDER & STOUGHTON, 27, Paternoster Row. 
33194	----	THE WARFARE OF THE SOUL _PRACTICAL STUDIES IN THE LIFE OF TEMPTATION_ BY SHIRLEY C. HUGHSON PRIEST OF THE ORDER OF THE HOLY CROSS WITH A PREFACE BY THE REV. ALFRED G. MORTIMER, D.D. _Rector of St. Mark's, Philadelphia_ LONGMANS, GREEN, AND CO. FOURTH AVENUE & 30TH STREET, NEW YORK LONDON, BOMBAY, AND CALCUTTA 1910 _Copyright_, 1910, _by_ LONGMANS, GREEN, AND Co. _The Plimpton Press Norwood Mass. U.S.A._ {v} PREFACE If we desired to describe our life here in one word, that word might be _Temptation_. From one point of view the purpose for which we are put into this world is to be tempted, that is, to be tried or tested, in order that the wheat among us may be separated from the chaff, and that the children of light may be manifested and divided from the children of darkness. This _testing_, however, is not only that the good may be separated from the bad, it is the means by which the good becomes good; for by it latent virtues are developed and a character fitted for heaven is formed. Let us regard a little child just baptized--it is an innocent child of God, but what is innocence? In many respects a beautiful attribute, but a purely negative one; for it is the attribute of an _untried_ soul. That child must pass through the wilderness of temptation, and with the result either that the innocence will be transformed into _sanctity_ or will be lost and give place to sin. When our Lord was baptized, as He came up {vi} out of the water, the Voice from heaven proclaimed, "This is my Beloved Son in Whom I am well pleased," and we read "_Then_ was Jesus led up of the Spirit into the wilderness to be tempted of the devil," and the temptation was a testing on the part of the Evil One, whether He were indeed the Son of God. So each child in baptism is made by the operation of the Holy Ghost the child of God, and _then_ his whole life is a being led by one of two spirits--the Spirit of God, leading him through temptation to sanctity, or the spirit of evil leading him by temptation into sin. For St. Paul tells us, doubtless referring to this, that, "As many as are led by the Spirit of God they are the sons of God." This however must be proved by temptation. Sanctity is the positive virtue of the soul which has been tempted and has stood the test, has vanquished the tempter and won the victory and the reward--the Crown of Life. Happy is that soul, for St. James says, "Blessed is the man that endureth temptation: for when he is tried, he shall receive the crown of life, which the Lord hath promised to them that love Him." We must therefore strive to grasp the fact that temptation is not an evil, on the contrary it is the only way in which the soul can be developed. Instead therefore of meeting it with fear and trembling {vii} and great reluctance, St. James says, "Count it all joy when ye fall into divers temptations; knowing this, that the trying of your faith worketh patience. But let patience have her perfect work, that ye may be perfect and entire, wanting nothing." A well-known spiritual guide says, "But how are we to overcome temptations? Cheerfulness is the first thing, cheerfulness the second, and cheerfulness the third." This is but a homely way of putting St. James' injunction, "Count it all joy when ye fall into divers temptations." In the book of Ecclesiasticus we read, "My son, if thou come to serve the Lord, prepare thy soul for temptation." We must not suppose from this that only those who serve the Lord are tempted, though they are doubtless attacked by Satan in special ways. All men, however, whether they serve the Lord or not, have to endure temptation, but those who desire to serve Him will prepare their soul for temptation by studying its laws, learning how best to meet its assaults, and fortifying themselves with divine grace for the struggle. This little book will be found most useful to such; for it will help them, not only to prepare for temptation, but will teach them the true purpose of the life of temptation, and the best methods {viii} of utilizing the attacks of the foe; so that they may leave no stain of sin, but rather may develop in the soul those Christian virtues which belong to sanctity. ALFRED G. MORTIMER. ST. MARK'S, PHILADELPHIA, Epiphany, 1910. {ix} TO THE READER You do not need to be told that the writer offers you here nothing of his own. He has sat at the feet of certain masters whom through the ages the Holy Ghost has employed to speak to the souls of men. He seeks only to bear you a message from them. May the same Blessed Spirit use these pages to enlighten the souls He loves. If the message makes you long to know God better, to love Him more truly, to serve Him more faithfully, it will not have been borne in vain, and he who brings it craves as his hire a spiritual alms,--a prayer that he, along with you and all God's people, may be found faithful at the end. S. C. H. ST. MICHAEL'S MONASTERY, SEWANEE. Christmas, 1909. {xi} CONTENTS CHAPTER I THE WARFARE OF THE SOUL 1. A Personal Issue 2. Not Peace, but a Sword 3. The Terms of the Warfare 4. The Nature of Temptation 5. Precept and Counsel CHAPTER II THE TEMPTER: HIS HISTORY AND NATURE 1. Satan's Fall and its Effects 2. The Hopelessness of his Warfare 3. The Limitations of the Tempter 4. The Restraint of the Divine Decrees CHAPTER III THE TEMPTER: HIS CHARACTERISTICS AND METHODS 1. Satan, The Deceiver 2. The Fact of his Personality 3. His Experience and Wisdom 4. The Methods of his Might 5. The Soul's Safety {xii} CHAPTER IV THE UNIVERSALITY OF TEMPTATION 1. The Common Lot 2. Enduring Hardship 3. The Sufferings of the Saints 4. Satan in the Sanctuary 5. The Sacrament of Temptation CHAPTER V THE SPIRIT OF SOLICITUDE 1. True and False Anxiety 2. Worry Versus Faith 3. The Cure of a Doubting Spirit 4. God's Sympathy CHAPTER VI OUR PREPARATION FOR TEMPTATION 1. A Double Weapon 2. The Spirit of Vigilance 3. Prayer and Temptation CHAPTER VII TRAINING THE INNER LIFE 1. Environment and Character 2. Educating the Memory 3. Guiding the Imagination 4. The Practice of Constancy 5. The Practice of Calmness 6. The Practice of Patience 7. The Practice of Diligence {xiii} CHAPTER VIII THE STAGES OF THE BATTLE 1. The Satanic Suggestion 2. The Response of the Natural Heart 3. The "Inferior" and "Superior" Wills 4. The Fatal Consent CHAPTER IX IN THE HOUR OF BATTLE 1. Realizing God's Friendship 2. The Divine Example of Humility 3. Instant in Prayer 4. A Holy Perversity 5. Scorning the Tempter 6. Staying not the Hand 7. The Final Phase of Victory CHAPTER X THE TESTS OF VICTORY AND DEFEAT 1. The Test of Common Sense 2. The Test of Doubt 3. Signs of the Soul's Victory 4. Spiritual Safety, Spiritual Victory 5. The Truest Test CHAPTER XI THE SCHOOL OF THE HOLY GHOST 1. The Teaching of Temptation 2. The Bulwark of Love 3. The Lesson of Humility 4. The Lessons of Consolation 5. How to Learn our Lessons {xiv} CHAPTER XII THE RETURN FROM CAPTIVITY 1. Hastening to Repent 2. A Tranquil Sorrow 3. A Spirit of Reparation 4. The Work of Amendment 5. The Gainsaying of Satan CHAPTER XIII THE GROUND FOR CHRISTIAN COURAGE 1. Members One of Another 2. The Church's Treasury of Grace 3. God's Interest in our Victory {1} CHAPTER I THE WARFARE OF THE SOUL I. _A Personal Issue_ The spiritual warfare is intensely personal. Any consideration of it is a consideration of definite personalities, divine, angelic, human, Satanic,--God, the Angels, the Soul, and Satan. We speak commonly of great principles being at stake in this warfare, often forgetting that it is not possible for a moral or spiritual principle to exist apart from a person. As we shall try to learn in the following pages, God--the three Persons of the Ever-Blessed Trinity--is always to be the first thought of the Christian warrior,--God, His Presence, His power, and His loving interest in our victory. But the well-trained soldier has an eye not to his own resources only; he seeks to learn something also concerning the Enemy he is to face. Next to the Presence of God, nothing is so necessary to the Christian soldier as to remember the presence of the Tempter; either in his own person or in that of one of his evil angels. Although God {2} has revealed nothing directly to us on the subject, yet His revelation concerning Satan's work is such that we can hardly escape from the conclusion that, as each soul has a guardian angel, so each soul has assigned to him by Satan an attendant evil spirit, whose whole business is to seek to lead the soul into sin. We see how in the conflict we have tremendous personalities to deal with, the Personality of the triune God,--Father, Son, and Holy Ghost,--and the Personality of Satan and his innumerable fallen angels, who, though finite and created, possess a scope and power which are, perhaps, so great that our human thought cannot compass them. But immeasurably below any of these as it is, our own personality must not be forgotten, for let it ever be kept in mind that _the issue of our individual battle depends on ourselves_. The laws of this war are such that on the one hand the powerful personal will even of the arch-fiend himself has no power to control us, except in so far as our personal will, acting with complete freedom, permits it; and on the other hand, the infinite personal will of God never operates so as to compel us, unless again our will yield freely to His call. Satan cannot control or influence us against our wills, and God, reverencing His image in man, refrains His power {3} and never forces man's love or service. The will of man is free, and this makes him the central factor in the spiritual warfare. II. _Not Peace, but a Sword_ In sending them forth on their first mission, the Prince of Peace declared to His awe-struck disciples, "I came not to send peace but a sword."[1] The world being what it was, the Kingdom of Peace was to be founded only by conflict. Those whom He sent forth to found His Church understood this principle, and everywhere in the accounts of their journeys and labours, as well as in the words of counsel they give their converts, there is the sound of warfare, "the voice of them that shout for mastery."[2] Everything indicates that the battle is fierce and desperate. Our Lord sends His message to the Seven Churches, and to each the reward is only "to him that overcometh."[3] We are warned of foes without and of traitors in the inmost citadel of our souls; of the "lusts which war against the soul";[4] "the law in our members warring against the law of our mind."[5] {4} St. Paul exhorts us repeatedly to "put on the whole armour of God."[6] He sends his counsel to his son in the faith in order that he "war a good warfare";[7] he pleads with him "to fight the good fight of faith,"[8] and to "endure hardness as a good soldier of Jesus Christ";[9] and in his last days he bases his own hope of the crown of life upon the assurance of his conscience that he himself had "fought a good fight."[10] So everywhere the New Testament rings with the sound of warfare, the shock and onset of battle. Everywhere we hear of foes and fighting, armour and rewards, life and death. We are told of the subtilty and ferocity of the Adversary, of the ranks and power of his evil angels.[11] We are sent into the world just that we might spend our life in a state of warfare, and in so far as this condition is absent from any life, just so far is that life a failure. To have a knowledge of the force and resources of the enemy is as necessary to the waging of a successful war as it is to have one's own training and equipment complete; and he who enters upon the struggle is well armed beforehand if he has realized the {5} seriousness of the conflict in which he is about to engage. Every baptized soul is a member of the army of the living God. Have we grasped the truth that this is no light undertaking; that in this warfare there are no quiet winter quarters into which we may retire, no light summer campaigns to be gaily prosecuted against a foe who flees at our first approach; but that the struggle is inevitable, that it is real, that our enemy is powerful, sleepless, and relentless; and above all, that we are in the thick of the conflict as long as life endures? Even the tenderest consolations that God gives His children concerning the warfare never lose sight of the inevitableness of it. We are given no false encouragement that would arouse a hope of escape. The very name by which the Body of Christ on earth is called,--the Church Militant,--is a standing witness of what the life of her members must be. When St. Paul comforts the Corinthians with the assurance that the struggle they are enduring is common to man, that God has not given them more to endure than that which is coming upon all their brethren, the Holy Ghost inspires him to guard this point carefully.[12] He assures them {6} that God Who is faithful to His word, "not slack concerning His promise,"[13] "will not suffer you to be tempted above that ye are able." The very fact of the approach of a trial or temptation is in itself the irrefutable proof that we are strong enough to conquer it, if only we use faithfully what we have, and what will be given. He then goes on to say that God "will, with the temptation also make a way to escape"; but the escape is not to be from temptation. He promises indeed to "make a way to escape," but only in order "_that ye may be able to bear it_,"--the escape is to be from the failure, from sin, never from the conflict so long as life endures. "There is no discharge in that war."[14] This is the condition under which life in this world exists; the only escape from it lies in base surrender to the enemy of God and man. If we face this condition, and accept it without flinching, we are then in the position of a soldier who, having weighed well the purpose and significance of his enlistment, is ready with generous spirit to submit to all that it involves. No surprises or disheartening revelations of the nature of the struggle will meet us, because we shall have understood well in the beginning what we are undertaking and what we must expect. {7} III. _The Terms of the Warfare_ Let us in the beginning set clearly before ourselves a few simple facts, facts with which we have been conversant all our lives, but which our lifelong course shows us to have taken too little into account. These we must regard in a very personal way, for our study will be worse than futile if it be not intensely personal. Let each one of us, therefore, set clearly before himself these fundamental propositions: (1) Our Leader is our Lord Jesus Christ, fighting now, as He fought when He was on earth, in the perfect powers of His Sacred Humanity. We must for our own encouragement remember that though He is perfect God as well as perfect Man, yet it was not by means of His divine power alone that He fought His own battle against temptation and conquered. He won the victory by the use of His human will, fortified by His divinity. It was as Man, not as God, that He fought and conquered. Had he contended against Satan in His God-nature only, there would have been no real struggle, for even the slightest exercise of His divine power must have crushed the enemy in a single moment of time. It was just because He did fight as Man, {8} in the power of His finite and created nature, that there could be a real conflict. (2) As baptized Christians we are His soldiers, fighting with the powers and faculties of His perfect Humanity, which were given us when we were baptized. If we are indeed, as the Apostle declares, "members of His Body, of His flesh, and of His bones,"[15] then we fight with His human powers. No longer have we to use our own, but His perfect human faculties. No longer have we to plan with our weak minds; we have at our command the perfect intelligence of the Man Jesus, for "we have the mind of Christ."[16] No longer does the battle depend on our vacillating wills, for His perfect human will is so bound up with ours that it is not possible for us to be overcome except in so far as we fall away from this union with Him. And His love is our love, going out to God and to our fellow-man. (3) The enemy is Satan, the prince of this world and of the hosts of hell; whose purpose in the warfare is the dishonour of God, and who fights against us just because we are the children of God. (4) His chief mode of attack is what is commonly called Temptation, the alluring of the soul to some thought, word, or deed that is contrary to the will of God. {9} (5) The successful resistance of temptation is a victory for our souls to the honour of our King. The battle is His; and the victory is won when we so yield ourselves to Him that He can employ us as instruments of His warfare. (6) The entrance of any sin is defeat for our souls to our King's dishonour, and no sin can enter save in so far as we become partakers of the Satanic purpose and will. (7) The entrance of serious wilful sin is a yielding of ourselves as Satan's captives. (8) Such captivity means not an idle, passive confinement in some spiritual prison, but an active enlistment in the armies of hell to fight against our Lord Jesus Christ. Let us keep these considerations before us; let us ask the Holy Spirit to give us a right understanding of these truths; and our study of the Christian warfare will not be in vain. IV. _The Nature of Temptation_ We have said above that Satan's chief weapon in his war against the soul is what is commonly called Temptation, whereby he allures the soul to consent to some thought, word, or deed that is contrary to the divine will. Temptation is always a testing of the soul. {10} This testing may be applied by God Himself, by Satan, or one of his fallen angels, or by one of our fellow-men. God may be said to tempt man in the sense of applying tests to prove or instruct him, as when it is said that "God did tempt Abraham"[17] in commanding him to offer up Isaac. In every such case, however, God beforehand gives the soul He is testing sufficient grace to bear the trial. This is taught us by St. Paul in the text that we shall come back to over and over again: "God is faithful who will not suffer you to be tempted above that ye are able."[18] Should failure and sin result, it would be because there had been wilful neglect to use the strength given. God cannot tempt man in the sense of inducing him to sin. Such a suggestion would be blasphemous. "Let no man say when he is tempted, I am tempted of God; for God cannot be tempted with evil, neither tempteth He any man."[19] Trials may also come through man, acting consciously or unconsciously, under the direction of God, who might use such a one to try His servant. We do not mean to treat in these pages, however, this aspect of temptation. We are to deal with the word in its popular use, as meaning some inducement to commit sin. {11} Before going further, therefore, it will be well for us to define temptation in the sense in which we are using it. _Temptation is any solicitation, from whatever source, directed towards an intelligent, moral creature, who is in a state of probation, to violate the known will of God._ (1) All such temptation comes primarily from Satan as its source. He is originally responsible for every solicitation to sin, although he does not always act directly and immediately. He does perhaps most of his work through agents, men or devils. One very active agent of Satan is ourselves, though we often fail to realize it. By entering into occasions of sin we assist the tempter, and by repeated acts we so train our hearts to delight in some particular sin that no outside solicitation is necessary. We sin, and go on sinning, not because he is busy persuading us to it, but because, like rebellious Israel of old, we "love to have it so."[20] (2) In order to constitute temptation, the solicitation must be directed to an intelligent, moral creature. An idiot or an insane person cannot be tempted, because he has neither the intellect to understand what is going on, nor any moral responsibility. {12} (3) To be tempted one must be in a state of probation. Neither the Saints nor the angels in heaven, nor the souls of the faithful departed, can be tempted; they are beyond the sphere in which it is possible for temptation to operate. Nor yet can the devils, nor the souls of the lost, suffer from temptation, for the nature of temptation indicates a choice, and they have made their eternal choice, which at their Judgment received the divine ratification; for this, in its essence, is what the Judgment is,--the divine ratification of the choice the soul made when it was free to choose. (4) Nothing can constitute temptation save what is a solicitation to violate the known will of God. He does not hold the soul responsible for so-called sins of ignorance, for there can be no real, formal sin save where there is knowledge. It is a legal maxim in the kingdoms of this world that "Ignorance of the law is no excuse"; but, thank God, it is an excuse in the Kingdom of Heaven. He does not hold us responsible for that which we do not know. Let us remember, however, that much of ignorance of spiritual things is the result of our own culpable failure to lay hold upon the light and grace which He offers. Our ignorance is, perhaps in most cases, our own fault; and yet such is the tenderness of {13} our God to His children, that He is willing to overlook it, and to count sin as though it were not sin. Surely the soul that is not wholly base will long to make a generous response to this so great goodness, and will rise from its lethargy and seek by every means to lay hold upon the divine light, and strength, and knowledge, not only for its own sake, but to show a tender Father that His love does awaken in our hearts an answering love which quickens us to a generous service. V. _Precept and Counsel_ When we speak of temptation being a solicitation to violate the known will of God, it is necessary for us to understand that conformity to God's will is not in every case required of us under penalty of sin. His will is revealed to us in two ways, in _precept_ and in _counsel_. To violate a precept is in every case sin; to reject a counsel is, in itself, never a sin. God may set before us two alternatives, both of them being good, but one a higher and better thing than the other. In such a case, we are often--in fact, generally--tempted to accept the lower. For example, a young man may have set before him, at some particular time of his life, the alternative {14} of serving God in work in his home parish, or of giving himself, by one great and final act of sacrifice and dedication, to the service of God in the monastic life. The former alternative is thoroughly good and holy, but none will deny that the latter is better. But the monastic life is a call of such a nature that compliance is never required under pain of sin; and one may even feel entirely sure that the call is directly from God, and yet be at liberty to refuse it because it is a form of service that belongs to counsel and not to precept. While the soul is weighing the question, strong temptation invariably comes to choose the lower service. Not that the tempter is interested in our serving God in any sphere whatever, but he hopes that if he can induce us to choose the lower now, he may be able later on still further to lower our ideals, and so in the end induce us to reject the divine will in some matter that belongs to the precepts of God's law. With this hope he even strives earnestly to induce us to do a good thing in order to dissuade us from choosing that which is better. So while it is entirely true, as we said above, that the rejection of a counsel is never, in itself, sinful, yet there is great peril always in refusing the known will of God, even when He does not {15} bind us to that will under the penalty of sin. The soul that truly loves is ever alert to perform the entire will of the beloved. "The noble love of Jesus forceth man to work great things, and stirreth him up always to desire the most perfect. Love wills to be aloft and will not be kept down by any lesser thing."[21] [1] St. Matt. x, 34. [2] Exod. xxxii, 18. [3] Rev. ii and iii. [4] 1 Pet. ii, 11. [5] Rom. vii, 23. [6] Eph. vi, 11. See also Rom. xiii, 12; 2 Cor. vi, 7, and 1 Thes. v, 8. [7] 1 Tim. i, 18. [8] 1 Tim. vi, 12. [9] 2 Tim. ii, 3. [10] 2 Tim. iv, 7. [11] See Pusey, _Parochial Sermons_, Vol. II, pp. 113-114. [12] 1 Cor. x, 13. [13] 2 St. Pet. iii, 9. [14] Eccles. viii, 8. [15] Eph. v, 30. [16] 1 Cor. ii, 16. [17] Gen. xxii, 1. [18] 1 Cor. x, 13. [19] St. James i, 13. [20] Jer. v, 31. [21] _Imitation_, III, v. (Bigg's Trans.) {16} CHAPTER II THE TEMPTER: HIS HISTORY AND NATURE I. _Satan's Fall and its Effects_ We have already reminded ourselves that it is as important to understand somewhat of the enemy's force and resources as it is to have our own equipment and training complete. Let us therefore consider the adversary, for next to the unceasing recollection of the presence, power, and goodness of God, the most necessary thing for the Christian soldier is the recollection of the presence and character of the enemy. Vigilance in maintaining this recollection is what the Apostle solemnly commands.[1] We cannot speak with theological exactness of the cause and occasion of the fall of Satan and his rebel host, for God has revealed but little concerning it; but when we compare Scripture with Scripture, it seems inevitable that the sin of Satan was one of pride, and, very probably, {17} its particular form was a desire to make himself equal with God. In the account given in Revelation of the war in heaven, St. Michael, whose name is simply a Hebrew word meaning "Who is like God?" is mentioned as the captain of God's host, who fought against the dragon and his angels, and overcame and cast them out.[2] It would seem that the leader of the loyal angels took his name from the battle cry with which the armies of God, as they pressed upon the rebel ranks, repudiated the blasphemous claim of him who was seeking to be like the Most High.[3] As we think of Satan as he is to-day, and as he meets us in the conflict, it will be of great value to us to keep definitely in mind the effect that his fall must have had upon his nature and powers. Not only is the adversary finite, with all the limitations common to finite beings, but he is one who, by his fall from original righteousness, has become a blasted creature, maimed and wounded in all his faculties. Man, too has fallen, and the blight is also upon {18} all his powers; but with every return to God in penitence man's powers are recuperated; he regains somewhat of his former strength. Nay, more, the spiritual strength we lay hold of through penitence is often greater than that which we lost through sin. "Where sin abounded, grace did much more abound."[4] God through the Precious Blood of His Son so mightily overrules the evil that, as we think of our sin, we can indeed triumphantly cry, "_O felix culpa!_" Not so with Satan and his companions. From the day of their fall the poison of the evil that is in them has been working relentlessly, and with never a moment's cessation, toward their ultimate destruction. By an humble, earnest effort for God's service in the little opportunities of daily life, we go on from strength to strength, while our foe, however powerful he may be in his warfare against the weakness of man, is daily drawing nearer to the time when he will lie in hell, an impotent and inert slave of the evil he has chosen as his portion. Even now, when so much of his ancient might remains, we can see the signs of his growing weakness. One illustration of the effect of his fall upon him is found in the stupidity which marks his {19} work. It is almost incredible that, after all the long millenniums of his warfare, and especially his experience since the Incarnation, he should be so incapable of realizing the inevitable consequence of his warfare against God. In innumerable cases he has seen the Saints strengthened by his antagonism; he has seen the weak becoming strong through the right use of the opportunities his temptations afford them; he has stood at the Judgment of souls as their accuser, and been covered with confusion as he saw his accusations rejected, and crowns given them, all the more glorious because of the occasion for battle and victory his hate had afforded them. All this he has seen, and yet its real significance has never dawned upon him.[5] More astonishing still, in spite of his experience, he has never been able to see that when he joins the struggle with us he is only seeking to renew the old warfare which was brought to a final issue on Calvary to his eternal discomfiture; that it is not the weak human soul he is fighting, {20} but the omnipotent God Who in human flesh, and by the exercise of human powers and faculties, bruised him under His feet, invaded his infernal kingdom, broke the gates of brass, and smote the bars of iron in sunder.[6] Are we wiser than Satan? Have we caught the true significance of the battle, the vision of its final issue? Do we realize, when the conflict comes, that our heart is but the arena of a struggle between the omnipotence of God and the weakness of Satan, and that we are called to fight along with Him "Who is the Author of unconquerable might, the King of the Empire that cannot be overthrown?" If so, then there can be no fear or repining because of the battle, but with the glad war-cry, "Emmanuel,--God with us!" can we plunge into the glorious strife, knowing that with His own right hand and with His holy arm will He get Himself the victory.[7] II. _The Hopelessness of his Warfare_ The hopelessness of Satan's warfare is shown in its final issue. Sin entered into the world through Satan, and by sin came death.[8] Death seems, when we first consider it, Satan's triumph; but in reality it is his destruction. He pursues a {21} soul through life, but the hour of death marks the absolute cessation of his power and influence. The faithful departed in the Church Expectant are in the hand of God, and nevermore can the torment of temptation touch them. The very act of wreaking the utmost of his power is the act which places them forever beyond even the possibility of communication with him. So both prophet and apostle cry out in an ecstasy of triumph, as the Holy Spirit leads them to this conclusion,--"O death, where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory?"[9] So also is it with "the spirits of just men made perfect,"[10] who, having been purged of all stain of sin, stand in the glory of the Beatific Vision in Paradise. Satan thought by means of death to make eternal life with God impossible; but by the divine overruling death is made the gateway of everlasting life. He watches the progress of the effect of sin; he sees the bodily weakness which he introduced into the race when he induced our first parents to sin, increasing, only to realize that the supreme result of evil in the world is to remove the soul he has been pursuing with malignant hate, forever from the sphere of his action. Even with the lost the same holds good. With {22} infernal glee he watches by the deathbed of a reprobate soul, of one that has yielded himself to his rule. He sees the last hour approaching; the dread coma of death settles down on the mind and heart where Satan's seat is; and he watches for the rending of soul and body asunder which will seal for eternity his claim to his possession of the sinner. The hour strikes; the horrible spasm of death seizes the frame and passes; the Evil One clutches with hellish eagerness the liberated spirit that is now his forever. The lost soul with the swiftness of thought is judged, Satan's claim is granted, and the lost wretch flees into outer darkness, the eternal slave of hell. But what a difference now transpires! for such a soul can no longer be used as the active instrument of the divine dishonour, and Satan finds satisfaction in possessing a soul only when he can use it as a co-worker with himself in his warfare with God. III. _The Limitations of the Tempter_ Our consideration of Satan's strength has shown us something of the awful and malignant character of his office. We see that he is not a foe to be despised, and the soul that thinks lightly of his antagonism is marked by him as a sure {23} victim. Yet despite all this, to fear Satan is to dishonour God. What would be thought of a soldier in the armies of an earthly kingdom who was afraid of the enemy? He may be far from despising him; he may recognize his power and skill, but to be afraid of him would be the mark of the caitiff. How much more dishonourable is it in the soldiers of Jesus Christ, our Captain, to stand in fear when He is fighting for us, and has promised us certain victory if only we be faithful. This is the first consideration that should nerve and enhearten us; but there is a second and most important one to which God would direct our attention, namely, the natural limitations of the adversary himself. The popular notion of Satan is an extraordinarily erroneous one, and the reaction from it has driven many to a complete denial of his existence. Many make a god of him, endow him with attributes of deity, regarding him as both omnipresent and omniscient. But we are ever to remember that Satan is a creature, finite and limited. (1) He is in no sense omnipresent. "No angel nor devil has any gift of ubiquity. If any created spirit be in one place, he is not in another. If he is busy protecting, or endangering, the soul of {24} one, he is not with another."[11] Satan has no more power than we have to be in more than one place at the same time, although, through the faithful agency of his many evil angels, fellow-devils with himself, he is able to deal with every soul. We speak in popular language of Satan tempting us, but it is probable that most of our temptations, though inspired by him, are not brought to us by him directly and in his own proper person, but through spiritual or other agencies under his control. (2) Again, Satan is not omniscient. This attribute, like that of omnipresence, belongs to God alone. Doubtless, in common with other purely spiritual beings, and in spite of his fall, he has, in virtue of his nature, vaster knowledge of things than we can now grasp, but his knowledge is necessarily limited and finite, and any attainment, or increase of it, must be through finite processes. (3) Another truth that brings us the greatest comfort and courage is that which is revealed in Holy Scripture, namely, that he has no power of reading our minds and hearts. It must ever be a consolation to us to know that in times of temptation neither he nor the fallen spirits he employs can know what effect their evil suggestions are producing in our hearts, except in so {25} far as we give outward evidence of it.[12] Could he at times see how troubled and afraid we are, how near to yielding, he would redouble his assault with such fury as might sweep us wholly away; but God in His merciful kindness withholds this knowledge from him. This should teach us the necessity of a calm and untroubled front in times of temptation; giving no outward sign of perturbation that might encourage him; remembering how Satan's experience has given him skill beyond our thought in reading such signs. To give such outward indications would be to notify him of our fear of him; and also would advertise him that we were not putting our trust wholly in God. Let him be given these two assurances, and our chance of escape would be small. IV. _The Restraint of the Divine Decrees_ As we have seen, Satan is limited as are all creatures, but his limitations are more than those which belong of necessity to a finite and created {26} nature. Because of his rebellion and his warfare against the Saints, God by decree has set him his bounds, as perhaps He has done with none other of His creatures. (1) He can tempt a soul that is in grace only with explicit permission from God. This is taught clearly in the history of the temptations of Job.[13] He defames the character of this servant of God, challenging God, as it were, to give him permission to test the Saint. The permission is given, and then, and not till then, is Satan able to lay siege to the heart of the patriarch. (2) After God's permission has been given, the extent of the temptation is also specially marked out by God. He sends Satan forth with permission to try His servant, but decrees what he can, and what he cannot, do. "Behold all that he hath is in thy power; only upon himself put not forth thy hand." This was the limitation of the first temptation, and when in it "Job sinned not, nor charged God foolishly," for the further perfecting of His servant and the confusion of the tempter, He gives a second permission, for each detailed temptation had to be stamped with the divine approval. But here again was the definite bound set. "Behold he is in thine hand, but save his life." {27} But in many cases God sets for Satan an even more baffling limitation than was done in the trial of Job, not allowing him to know definitely how far he will be allowed to go. He has no rights in his work of temptation. God has made no covenant with him to allow him anything; he is permitted to operate little by little, here and there, and from time to time, not according to his own will or wish, but only as God wills for His own glory. If he knew in the beginning the exact limit, if nothing more, he could so much the more intelligently prepare his plans. He is, however, in the position of a man who is bidden to prepare for a journey, but is given no idea of the distance it is to cover, along what road it will be, or what space of time it will occupy. The plan laid out in such a case must be, at best, a poor kind of thing. God has promised us that we shall not be tempted above that we are able. In other words, that He will preside over this battle, watching it in its every detail, and when the limit of our strength is reached, the tempter will be instantly checked. What must be his rage and chagrin to find so often the spoil of the battle apparently all but within his grasp, when suddenly his arm is shortened, his power paralysed. [1] "Be sober, be vigilant, because your adversary, the devil, as a roaring lion, walketh about, seeking whom he may devour."--1 Peter v, 8. [2] Rev. xii, 7. [3] "It seems certain that this sin was pride, which is the beginning of all sin.... More specifically, the pride of the fallen angels seems to have been a refusal to accept the position of creature, subject in all things to their Creator."--Hunter, _Outlines of Dogmatic Theology_, 448. [4] Rom. v, 20. [5] "According to the divine economy, the Evil One is not consigned at once to the place of punishment allotted to him, but is permitted to be at large for the trial and probation of men; that he may, though contrary to his own design, render the Saints more righteous through patience, and become the cause of greater glory to them."--St. Macarius the Egyptian, _Institutes of Christian Perfection_, Bk. IV, ch. ii (London, 1816). [6] Ps. cvii, 16. [7] Ps. xcviii, 2. [8] Rom. v, 12. [9] 1 Cor. xv, 55. Compare Hosea xiii, 14. [10] Heb. xii, 23. [11] Moberly, _The Administration of the Holy Spirit_, p. 25. [12] "For Thou, even Thou only, knowest the hearts of all the children of men."--1 Kings viii, 39. "After all, with all his vast knowledge and experience, he is but a creature. He cannot know you from within; he is not omniscient, not omnipresent. He can only _guess_ at your motives,--the secret spring of your actions."--Webb, _The Presence and Office of the Holy Spirit_, pp. 78-79. [13] Job i and ii. {28} CHAPTER III THE TEMPTER: HIS CHARACTERISTICS AND METHODS I. _Satan, the Deceiver_ The foremost characteristic of Satan is that which marks him as a Deceiver. It was by deceit that he brought death into the world and all our woe. Our first mother was "beguiled through his subtilty,"[1] and "being deceived, was in the transgression."[2] Our Lord declares him to be the father of lies,[3] and the constant apostolic warning is against his falsehood and deceit. He secures the active allegiance of men by "blinding the minds of them which believe not";[4] he is able to lead astray God's people by being "transformed into an angel of light,"[5] and through his wiles and lying wonders he seeks "to seduce, if it were possible, even the elect."[6] So we are taught to watch and pray "lest the devil find room to deceive, who never sleeps, but goes about seeking whom he may devour."[7] {29} Nevertheless there is great consolation in the fact that his chief weapon is deceit. By using it he bears his testimony that, though we be far gone from righteousness, yet, should we be permitted to see clearly, truth rather than error would appeal to us. No man chooses evil for evil's sake.[8] Before he makes such a choice he is deceived into thinking either that the thing is good, or that under the particular circumstances it is right for him to make what, under other conditions, would be a sinful choice. Thus, much of the sin we commit comes from making ourselves an exception to rules which we ourselves acknowledge, and it has been said that such action is of the very essence of immorality. One of Satan's favourite deceptions is practised upon us in regard to himself. It has been well said that Satan's master-stroke in these latter times is his policy of persuading men that he himself has no existence. If an army disbelieves in the existence of an enemy, no guard will be kept, and it will be easily surprised and overcome.[9] {30} So we may be sure that those who deny the personality of Satan will sooner or later be his captives. Knowing this he operates as hiddenly as possible. How different is his plan of warfare from what it was two thousand years ago. Men believed in him then, and he fought them in the open. Now they question his existence, and he goes softly lest they should discover their error through his too manifest activity. In our Lord's time, for example, demoniacal manifestation was common; it is rarely heard of now. Satan does not care to be too much in evidence. He encourages us to think lightly of him that we may all the more surely fall into his snares. Here we see the evidence of his absolute devotion to his cause. Wiser in his generation than the children of light,[10] he is willing to be effaced if thereby the glory of the kingdom of hell can be enhanced. We often mar what we do for God by conspicuously claiming the credit; he asks for no credit if only the result redounds to his power. {31} II. _The Fact of his Personality_ The question of the personality of Satan is one that we must briefly consider here. Do we believe in a personal devil? The answer to this question will show what is our attitude towards the spiritual conflict. We may go further, and say that it will show whether, in the last analysis, we believe there is any spiritual conflict.[11] In these days when man is made the measure of all things, both divine and devilish, we often hear it said that every soul is its own tempter, that what revelation calls temptation is but the working out of a so-called "evil principle" that resides by nature in every human spirit.[12] Of course, there is a partial truth in this, for {32} when we yield ourselves to Satan's power by consenting to sin, we then become his servants, and just as one man often acts as Satan's agent in tempting another, so, too, we can act as his agent in tempting ourselves. But it is none the less his personal work though carried out through another. To deny the personality of Satan involves one in all manner of denials of Scripture and Church teaching. Revelation declares that God made our first parents and pronounced them "very good."[13] Whence then arose the inherent "principle of evil" that wrought their temptation? Did God create in them and pronounce "very good" that which asserted itself so desperately against His will, or did it come from a personally directed intelligence outside of them? Again, in the second Adam, if He is indeed the God-man, the Incarnate Jehovah, whence came His temptation? If it came from some principle within Him, then just in so far as His temptation was greater than ours must the evil principle dwelling in Him have been greater; and when we consider the extent of His temptation we must then conclude that His human nature had more inherent evil in it than that of any other who has ever braved the perils of the spiritual conflict. {33} Again, the verdict of the Christian experience of all ages has been that the more nearly men attain to the likeness of Christ, the more they are tempted. Does then the increase of the Christ-character give added virulence and strength to the evil that is within? These illustrations of temptation show that those who reject the personality of Satan and of his evil angels, and substitute for it the idea of temptation arising from an evil principle within, are involving themselves in conclusions which strike at the very fundamentals of divine revelation concerning God and His relations to man. III. _His Experience and Wisdom_ One of Satan's most powerful means of warfare lies in his experience in dealing with the souls of men. We dare not presume to think that we can oppose or overreach him with any gift of discernment that we have of ourselves. His experience in this warfare has been age-long. Ours has covered but a few brief years. His devotion to his cause has been unflagging, and so, by his strenuous attention to the business in hand, he has acquired vast stores of knowledge as to methods of temptation. Our knowledge of attack and resistance is a poor and beggarly thing, because when God would place us in the school {34} of temptation that we might learn this military science, we are wanting in devotion to our cause and miss the numberless opportunities that are offered. Furthermore, Satan has dealt with millions of souls of the same type as ours, dealt with them and mastered them. It were the height of folly for us to imagine that there might be any thing in our nature, or in our aim and purpose, that he has not met and studied in characters far stronger than ours. Taken apart from God, there is nothing in us that can for a moment baffle so powerful and experienced a foe. We can present no new front to him. Only the infinite strength and variety of God's grace can supply that which will surely baffle and defeat him. As we study the history of his dealings with the souls of men we see not only that he is faithful to his own abominable ideals and aims, and so acquires great knowledge of the methods which avail against us, but that he is faithful and methodical in using the experience he has gained. He makes the most of what he has. If he discovers that a certain mode of temptation is effective against men, he wastes neither time nor force in wandering afield after new things. He works one method thoroughly, getting out of it {35} all possible dishonour to God, before seeking new ways and means. He never scatters his force, but is ever intensifying and concentrating it, daily seeking to perfect more and more his method of warfare. Let us see how careful he is to utilize his own tremendous experiences. Take the first recorded temptation that he brought against man. What was his course of reasoning in devising it? "I fell through the desire to be like God," he reflects. "This same temptation will ensnare this new handiwork of God whom He has made in His own image and likeness." It was to him unthinkable that any intelligent being should not have that aspiration, and he approaches our first mother, promising as the reward of sin, "Ye shall be as gods."[14] His confidence was not disappointed. The lure attracted, man fell, and sin and death entered the world. We note that he again falls back upon his experience in tempting the second Adam. He hears the Father's voice declare, "Thou art My Beloved Son,"[15] and immediately he proceeds to test Him. Mark the substance of his insolent assault. "If thou art the Son of God, prove it, vindicate your claim. I challenge it. Turn {36} these stones into bread, and by this miracle show me that you are like God."[16] This he believed would be the supreme test. His own fall had come through his ambition; the fall of the human race had its beginning in the same proud aspiration; and surely, he argued, it would prove effective against this new opponent of his power as prince of this world. We know what was the issue of the attempt. No sin could enter the heart of the Sinless One, and yet He allowed Himself to be thus tempted that we might find in His example a means of offsetting the advantage our enemy has in his vast experience with men and their frailties. IV. _The Methods of his Might_ Not in a single chapter, nor yet in many chapters, would it be possible for us to discuss all the forms of the might with which Satan wars against the servants of God. We must hasten on to the consideration of some of those that he most commonly employs. (1) His activity. He never sleeps; he never rests on his arms. What seem to be pauses in the battle are only intervals he is employing to study us more carefully, and to plot some more {37} subtle and ingenious method of attack. Even in moments of defeat he is alert to recover even the smallest advantage. How often when we have just won from him some hard-fought battle, and are pausing, as it were, for breath, our vigilance relaxed ever so little, does he discharge a Parthian shot of pride in our victory, or of impatience which, if it does not wound us grievously, at least mars the perfection of the victory we had secured by God's grace. (2) His aggression. We are, perhaps, in many instances, ready to use the opportunities that present themselves to labour for God's glory, but how salutary a lesson have we to learn from him who, in the interests of eternal unrighteousness, does not wait for opportunity, but labours unceasingly to _create_ occasions for the dishonour of our God. He goes up and down the world "seeking whom he may devour,"[17] letting nothing slip that can forward his infernal designs. In furthering the glory of God and the work of the kingdom we count ourselves to have done well if we have been fairly faithful to the opportunities that come. We hear much, among even the best of spiritual teachers, of seizing opportunities of grace, but little is said of _making_ such opportunities, of watching and labouring, keen {38} and alert to turn to good account and to God's glory every circumstance, whether or not it seem in itself to bear the hall-mark of heaven-sent opportunity. How much more zealous is Satan in the evil cause! He not only uses every opportunity that comes, but he counts himself to have done little unless he has forced occasions for wounding the divine Majesty and enslaving souls made in the image of God. (3) His persistency. Though it is within the power of the soul, by a stout and persistent defence, to discourage Satan in regard to certain particular temptations, yet in regard to temptation in general he is never discouraged. However many times we may inflict defeat upon him, however mighty in battle the soul of saint or sinner may wax, he never resigns the hope that he may yet secure dominion in the heart in which God now reigns. What a frightening suggestion this offers! He who knows us so well, better than we know ourselves, better than anyone knows us save God and our Guardian Angel, sees ever in us possibilities of final and eternal failure. There is always some definite thing in us that buoys up his hope that he may yet be able to persuade or deceive us into rejecting the service of God and accepting {39} his. Every time we yield to the slightest sin or laxity, we encourage and embolden him still more, until he feels that he can safely attack the soul that but a little time before he feared. It is thus that we become responsible for our own temptations, raise up occasions for sin, and give, by our often deliberate acts, vantage ground and footing to him from which he can drive home a deadly stroke. (4) A fourth characteristic is the patience with which he works. He bides his time. We should naturally think that when he found a soul in a sinful environment he would immediately use the occasion to lead it into some serious sin, but by no means does he always take this course. Often in the most sinful surroundings he does not, for a long time, allow the sight of sin to suggest participation in it. He waits until we are accustomed to its presence; until the sense of shock wears off. He begins by getting us to tolerate the fact of sin about us, for he knows that any toleration of sin in the general life with which we are surrounded is a long step towards tolerating it in ourselves. So he waits with a patience born of a deep-laid plot. He notes that after a while we see our Lord fearfully dishonoured, and our souls are not thereby grieved and outraged; that we come {40} and go in a world where He is being crucified daily, but with a smiling countenance that masks no broken heart beneath. Then he begins to insinuate his suggestions to evil. Perhaps the temptation at first is to some slight sin only, merely venial. He would not rouse our slumbering conscience by the frightening temptations to that which is serious. But Satan has no interest in a soul committing venial sins merely for their own sake. Venial sin cannot deliver us into his power, and cannot keep us out of heaven. It is well for us to remember this. Satan cares nothing for venial sin _per se_. He never tempts a soul to it save as a cunningly laid preparation for that deadly sin which follows logically upon a long and reckless course of venial sin; and the soul that deliberately yields to little temptations is knowingly, wilfully, and deliberately aiding and abetting the devil in his plan for the supreme dishonour of our God. So through all these steps the Satanic patience endures. He sees the soul's sensibilities becoming more and more blunted; the conscience less and less sensitive. He sees the little act of sin lightly consented to, then the habit formed. He marks the soul's defences crumbling, and in a well-chosen hour, subtly and in some familiar {41} guise, he presents the temptation to the great offence, and his triumph is complete. (5) The last characteristic we shall consider is his ready adaptability to every circumstance that transpires in the midst of the battle. He cares not how we are tempted, if only our fall can be secured. We, in our self-will, often desire to serve God in some particular way, and lose interest when we have to change our method. Satan gives us an example in this, for he cares not how he fights, if only he can, in some small measure at least, accomplish God's dishonour. He has no pet plans to which he clings in a self-willed way. Utterly devoted to his cause, he feels no reluctance or sense of personal chagrin at having to give up a certain method he has been using to dishonour God in us. He gladly and immediately resigns what he finds is not to the purpose. We see this illustrated in the swiftness with which he shifts the point of attack, often with great readiness and seeming graciousness accepting as his own the point of view from which we reject his first overture. This is vividly illustrated in his temptation of our Lord in the wilderness. In response to the first temptation, our Lord shows that man is not to live by bread alone, not by merely natural means, even though in themselves they may be {42} good, but that he is to be sustained by a trust in God. Instantly Satan changes his front. He takes Him up upon a pinnacle of the temple and delivers the second temptation, which in substance is this: "You are entirely right. God must be trusted implicitly and in all things. Now give an evidence of your trust in Him. Cast yourself down, for it is written--(and here we see how the devil so completely shifts to our Lord's point of view that he begins to quote Scripture himself),--'He shall give His angels charge concerning thee, and in their hands they shall bear thee up, lest at any time thou dash thy foot against a stone." But the Blessed One could not be deceived. Again fell the crushing _Scriptum est_, and again the tempter is vanquished. As we have just seen in his quotation from Scripture, if it suits his purpose he will make use of the best and holiest things if only he can balk God's will,--things which, in themselves, he must fear and hate. "So he may cozen and deceive thee, he cares not whether it be by truth or falsehood," says à Kempis.[18] He will try to induce us to go to church when he knows that in so doing we may be neglecting plain, God-sent duties at home. He could not possibly desire us to meditate on holy things, and yet a {43} self-willed meditation, to the neglect of charity or obedience, is most pleasing to him, and he will incite us to it, even smoothing the way for us, suggesting to us beautiful and holy thoughts, and glad to help us with our meditation because he knows it is being made selfishly, and therefore contrary to the divine will. V. _The Soul's Safety_ Our assurance of escaping the power of this malignant and tireless foe lies: (1) In never parleying or arguing with him. He is far cleverer than we are, and if we stop to consider his proposals, or to reason about them, our fate will, sooner or later, be that of our first mother, who, because she was willing to hear what the tempter had to say, found herself deceived to her utter undoing. Our only safe course lies in instant and vigorous rejection of all that he suggests. (2) But, although we shall see later that it is often wise to ignore him wholly,[19] our resistance is not to be merely a passive one. We are to meet point with point, attack with counter-attack. If he is tirelessly active in his cause, there must be in us a corresponding activity and zeal for God's {44} service and for the safety of our souls; a like aggressive spirit, a forcing of circumstances and conditions, wherever possible, that glory may be won for our King, and the power of the devil diminished; a like persistency, and equal alertness, a ready trying of one method, then another; and no matter what past failures may have been, a continuing the fight, that in the end we may be worthy of the victory. If we can learn these lessons, though the strength and prowess of Satan be an hundred-fold greater than that which human might can own, yet we shall have no fear of him. On the contrary he will fear us, delivering his attacks warily, lest he find his power shattered by the weapons with which we shall be able to oppose him. We were considering a little while ago how Satan "walketh about, seeking whom he may devour."[20] These words of St. Peter have another significance. True, he goes about with strong and ceaseless aggression, but he goes about seeking only those whom he _may_ devour. He does not fall without discretion upon the throngs of men, as the lion upon the flock. He seeks only those who will, he thinks, in the end yield themselves to him. He skulks about, hiding himself, seeking, as we have seen, to blind men to the {45} very fact of his existence, until he finds opportunity for attack when he thinks the soul will yield. Some strong souls he does not openly seek, for too often has he been defeated by them, and he fears to tempt them save in some insidious, hidden way. In dealing with such souls he loses his lion-like character, and lies in ambush like the coward who is afraid to strike save from behind. A great comfort, therefore, we must draw from the thought that Satan's career has been one of failure as well as of victory. God's Saints, following the lead of the King of Saints, have on a thousand battle-fields trampled him under their feet; and with whatever insolent confidence he may approach us, it is never without a haunting, unnerving fear lest the issue be what it has been many times before, a crushing defeat. It is not the weak human soul only that trembles at the impending conflict, but the soul of Satan, so often beaten down and humiliated at the hands of the weakest of the soldiers of God. [1] 2 Cor. xi, 3. [2] 1 Tim. ii, 14. [3] St. John viii, 44. [4] 2 Cor. iv, 4. [5] 2 Cor. xi, 14. [6] St. Mark xiii, 22. [7] _Imitation_, I, xiii. [8] "The soul, from her nature, always relishes good, though it is true that the soul, blinded by self-love, does not know and discern what is true good."--St. Catherine of Siena, _Dialogue_, p. 122. (Thorold Trans., London, 1907.) [9] "There is something satanic in the contempt and the ridicule with which men treat Satan. I say it is satanic because it is a Satanic illusion to make men cease to fear him, or cease even to believe in him. He is never more completely master of a man than when the man ridicules his existence,--when, as we hear in these days, men say, 'There is no devil.'"--H. E. Manning, _Sin and Its Consequences_, pp. 168-169. [10] St. Luke xvi, 8. [11] It is perhaps best to avoid such expressions as "personality of evil," lest they be misunderstood. "Evil cannot be personal in or of itself; it can only obtain the advantages of personal embodiment and action by being accepted by an already existing creature, endowed with will,--a creature which freely determines implicitly to accept it by rejecting good.... In Satan evil has become dominant and fixed as in a previously existing personal being; there was no such thing in the universe of the Almighty and All-good God as a self-existing or originally created devil."--Liddon, _Passiontide Sermons_, p. 95. [12] "What do they exactly mean by this imposing phrase? How can evil itself be, strictly speaking, a principle? The essence of evil is absence of principle, principle being something positive. Evil is contradiction to positive principle."--Liddon, _Passiontide Sermons_, p. 88. [13] Gen. i, 31. [14] Gen. iii, 5, or rather "as God." The word in the Hebrew is simply _Elohim_. [15] St. Mark i, 11. [16] See Pusey, _Parochial Sermons_, Vol. II, p. 148. [17] 1 St. Peter v, 8. [18] _Imitation_, IV, xxx. [19] See page 142. [20] 1 St. Peter v, 8. {46} CHAPTER IV THE UNIVERSALITY OF TEMPTATION I. _The Common Lot_ "So long as we live in this world we cannot be without tribulation and temptation. Whence it is written in Job,[1] 'The life of man upon earth is a temptation.'"[2] Man did not have to wait for the full revelation of God in His Son before knowing this truth. Holy Job testifies to it out of his own experience, and the Son of Sirach gives the warning, "My son, if thou come to serve the Lord, prepare thy soul for temptation."[3] The constant and definite warning and promise of our Lord and His Apostles were to the same effect. In the only prayer He taught His disciples, a prayer He commands us to use daily, they are taught to say, "Lead us not into temptation";[4] and on the night in which He was betrayed, full of tender solicitude for their souls, He warns them, "Pray that ye enter not into temptation."[5] {47} In all His teaching He takes it easily for granted that temptation is an inevitable factor in the life of those who would follow Him. In the parable of the Sower He assumes, without so much as making the statement, that temptation must come to every heart in which the seed of the Word is sown.[6] Everywhere His Apostles give us the same teaching. St. Paul testifies to the presence of temptation in his own life, and warns and comforts his converts concerning it, telling them of the sweetness and loving care of God in it all: "There hath no temptation taken you but such as is common to man; but God is faithful, who will not suffer you to be tempted above that ye are able."[7] And further, God reveals to us the depth of our Lord's temptation as a source of comfort and encouragement: "In that He Himself hath suffered being tempted, He is able to succour them that are tempted";[8] and again, He "was in all points tempted like as we are."[9] So likewise is it through the writings of all the Apostles. St. James assumes the universal fact, and points out the way of temptation as the way of joy;[10] St. Peter shows how temptation {48} leads on to "praise and honour and glory at the appearing of Jesus Christ";[11] and the Epistles of the Beloved Disciple, tender and full of all gentleness as they are, ring with the suggestion of the Satanic antagonism, the warfare and the victory. What a trumpet call there is to the elect lady and her children: "Look to yourselves, that we lose not those things which we have wrought."[12] It is like an echo of the revelation on Patmos, the message to the faithful Philadelphians, "Hold that fast which thou hast, that no man take thy crown."[13] II. _Enduring Hardship_ It is a part of the temptation itself that, as we contemplate the fact of its universality, the question should arise in the soul, weary with the battle, sore with long buffeting, "Is there no rest, no cessation from the strain and stress of the warfare?" The question comes from Satan. Assuming the role of a comforter, he whispers to us of the hardness of the ceaseless struggle. It is a temptation to induce us to forget our character as the followers of our Lord. When we were baptized we were signed with the Sign of the Cross in {49} token that we should "manfully fight under Christ's banner against sin, the world, and the devil, and continue Christ's faithful soldier and servant unto our life's end."[14] In short, at our Baptism we were enlisted and sealed as soldiers, and a soldier who never fights has no reason for existing. A soldier who turns himself back in the day of battle is not only unworthy of his name and character, but is by this act reversing the whole principle of his life and vocation. We are members of the Church Militant,--the fighting Church. The Son of God has gone forth to war, the trumpet-call to His soldiers has sounded. It were shame upon the soldier of an earthly army should he, at such a time, linger and repine because of the battle, and surely those who contend for no earthly laurel, but for the "crown of glory that fadeth not away,"[15] cannot afford to do less. Let us never forget that we are members of an army, that it is a time of war; our Captain has gone forth with His host; "The ark and Israel, and Judah, abide in tents; and my lord Joab and the servants of my lord are encamped in the open fields; shall I then go into mine house to eat and to drink?"[16] We must not, however, leave the matter at {50} this point, lest some be "swallowed up with overmuch sorrow,"[17] and find only despair where they looked for consolation. In the spiritual combat, unceasing as it is, there are many considerations which offer comfort. These we shall not here meditate upon at length. They will find their place before we close our study of this holy warfare. But it will help and encourage us to remind ourselves that in this struggle the exercise of strength does not exhaust the soul. In the moment that we seem weakest, then are we strong, because Christ's strength is made perfect in our weakness.[18] Then it is that God teaches us our own insufficiency that we may look not to anything that we have or do, but to Him that He may send us "help from the sanctuary and strengthen us out of Sion."[19] Great strain upon bodily strength depletes it, but the more unsparing the call upon our spiritual energies, the more are they confirmed and increased. Then again, the harder the battle, the more splendid the victory and the reward. Every Satanic device and energy that is directed against us does but swell the opportunity for a more glorious place in the Kingdom. So à Kempis {51} says: "These help to virtue; these test the young soldiers of Christ; these fashion the heavenly crown."[20] Thus does evil react upon itself for its own destruction, and surely none but a pusillanimous soul will desire to flee the honour of being used as the sure occasion and instrument of the glory of our God, and of the overthrow of Satan. III. _The Sufferings of the Saints_ The holy author of the "Imitation of Christ" tells us, "No man is so perfect and holy as not sometimes to have temptations."[21] The universality of temptation is found not only in respect to outward condition and circumstance, but also in respect to the character of those against whom Satan directs his malice. Saintly souls longing for a still greater saintliness, if they truly discern the things of the Spirit, will not fall into the snare of thinking that perhaps some day in this life they will become so like our Lord that temptation can never more vex and torment them. To become like Him will be to invite more desperate {52} attacks. The more we are conformed to His likeness, the more must we expect to arouse the hatred and malice of the Evil One. He who is the Holy of Holies was, just because of that fact, tempted as never other man was tempted. Not only is our greater conformity to Christ the signal for Satan's attack, but we must expect the particular occasions of God's outpouring of grace upon us to be also the occasions of special and perhaps immediate assault. It was so with our Lord. There are few words in the narrative of stronger or more valuable significance than the adverb with which St. Matthew begins the fourth chapter of his Gospel: "_Then_ was Jesus led up of the Spirit into the wilderness to be tempted of the devil." Bishop Andrewes says: "When as Christ was but newly come out of the water of Baptism, and immediately after the heavens had opened unto Him, and the Holy Ghost descended upon Him in the likeness of a dove, and while He was yet full of the Holy Ghost, did the devil set upon Him";[22] and saintly old Leighton warns us: "Thou shalt be sure to be assaulted when thou hast received the greatest enlargements from heaven, either at the Sacrament or in prayer, or in any other way; then look for an onset. {53} This arch-pirate lets the empty ships pass, but lays wait for them when they return richest laden."[23] Thus the soul that has received special blessings of God must expect special attack, not only because it is natural for Satan to seek promptly to offset and quench the divine grace, but because when God gives us special spiritual strength He gives it in order that it may be used, and He Himself will supply the opportunity by permitting Satan to make his attack. "It is God's property to look for much at his hands to whom He hath given much. When He gives a man a large measure of grace, He gives the devil withal a larger patent."[24] The like experience has ever been suffered by the Saints. We read of their struggles with temptation, and of the methods the adversary employs against them, and they sound often impossible and grotesque. We are inclined to dismiss them as the product of the childish imagination of some mediæval chronicler; but how do we know the method of the devil with the Saints? He never has occasion to deal with us in any unusual way. He is able to overthrow us daily with the most ordinary and commonplace {54} temptations; how then dare we say how he might approach those against whom no common temptation can avail? Thus are we taught not to look forward to growth in holiness as a means of escape from temptation. Such expectation would in itself be sin, because we should then be seeking God's gifts for our own selfish ease and indulgence, and not for His honour. If He should vouchsafe us the grace to attain to great achievement in the spiritual life, it would be a base return for His goodness to shut those graces up in our hearts (were such a thing possible), instead of using them in more extended endeavour for the glory of His Kingdom; instead of arming ourselves by their means for more complete and crushing conquests of His enemies. The Saints are led along the path of sanctity that they may be more effective soldiers; not that they may by such progress escape from the presence of the foe, and find a pusillanimous peace in this life, while all the powers of evil are storming at the gates of the Kingdom, and making captives of the King's children. Peace is to be had indeed, and in this life, "for the Kingdom of God is righteousness and peace and joy in the Holy Ghost,"[25] but, says à Kempis, {55} "he that knows how to suffer will possess the greatest peace." Endurance of hardness as a good soldier of Jesus Christ is the only passport to honourable peace in this life, the only pledge of the "peace of God which passeth all understanding"[26] in the life to come. IV. _Satan in the Sanctuary_ Thomas à Kempis tells us again, "There is no order so holy nor place so secret where there be not temptations."[27] It would seem that the energies of Satan against God would, from the nature of things, find themselves paralysed under certain conditions. Surely, one should think, the devil could introduce his temptations more readily in a brothel than in a church, in ordinary secular employment rather than when we are engaged in the service of the sanctuary. Such, however, is not the case. Amid the common employments of the carpenter shop in Nazareth we should scarcely have wondered had He been tempted; but that the enemy should have approached the Incarnate Son of God while in the midst of His great retreat in preparation for His ministry does fill us with astonishment. {56} Or if it seem not unnatural that He should have been tempted in the desert solitudes, yet we do marvel at the audacity that led the tempter to bear Him to the holy precincts of the temple, and seize upon the circumstances there to tempt Him to seek other than His Father's will. But so it was with the Master, and so shall it be with the disciple.[28] Who has not been tempted at the holiest times and in the most sacred places? Is it not, furthermore, the common experience that Satan the more eagerly and readily pursues us under such circumstances? There is a principle in it, and a most natural one. It is a favourite device of the enemy to assault us at such times for two reasons. First, because he knows that could he induce us to sin under such circumstances, his victory would be greater, the dishonour of God would be deeper, the hurt to the soul more serious. Many a soul has been startled while kneeling in the very act of receiving the Blessed Sacrament by the swift, sudden onslaught of some strong temptation. To yield at such a time would not only bring upon it the guilt of the sin itself, but there would be added to it something of the nature of sacrilege. Satan knows this, and is keen to gain every advantage from it. {57} Secondly, he seeks to lead us into sin under these conditions because he fears especially what is going on in our souls. God is drawing near to us, and we are drawing near to Him.[29] We are hearkening what the Lord God will say concerning us,[30] and He is preparing to speak in our souls with the Voice that is "mighty in operation,"[31] with the Voice of which it is said, "He spake the word and they were made, He commanded and they were created."[32] Satan knows how that Voice in the attentive heart can speak into being new creations of divine grace, and of strength unto the battle; and it is to his utmost interest that our hearts be turned aside from hearing the divine Voice within. It is a great blow to his power for a soul to make a good Communion, to pray a holy prayer, or to be able to listen piously and without distraction to a spiritual instruction or exposition of God's holy word. Such acts are acts of offensive warfare against him, and it is no wonder if he then rouses himself and his evil agents to check this inroad into his kingdom. So let us not be surprised if many distractions come in these times of devotion, and if they endure long. Nor must we expect to be freed {58} from them as long as we live, for they constitute one of Satan's favourite modes of attack. St. Francis de Sales was once asked by a Sister of the Visitation how she could be rid of distractions in prayer. With that wise humour so characteristic of the Saint, he replied, "Die and be saved."[33] He knew of nothing short of this, that could free one from Satanic interruption. "To be clean delivered from it," says Walter Hilton, "so that he shall feel no suggestion, nor jangling of fleshly affections, or of vain thoughts at any time, that can no man come to in this life."[34] Let us remember, however, that involuntary distraction is not sin. If as soon as we are conscious that the mind has wandered we bring it back again, our souls are clear. We may wander again the next minute, but as long as we {59} continue by acts of the will to bring the attention back again, no sin is upon us. The sin, at such times, lies in being disheartened, but a little reflection on the principle involved will keep us safe. Satan seeks to interrupt our prayers because he fears them; and God help the poor blinded soul who is happy and satisfied because the Evil One does not think his devotions are worth interrupting. V. _The Sacrament of Temptation_ If temptation be so universal, and if, as is usually the case, it is a condition which is attached more particularly to the lives of those who are making the greatest effort of conformity to the divine will, we are irresistibly drawn to the conclusion that there must be some signal blessing to be gained from enduring it. St. James tells us, "Blessed is the man that endureth temptation; for when he is tried, he shall receive the crown of life which the Lord hath promised to them that love Him."[35] This apostolic beatitude can hardly be said to refer only to the blessedness that comes from so meeting temptation as merely to escape sin. This would make the beatitude a poor thing that might {60} be supposed to belong as truly to the man who is never tempted at all. The Apostle is, we can be sure, speaking of a special blessing that comes from bearing a part in the spiritual warfare; and he goes on to say that the crown which constitutes the reward is not one that is promised to those who succeed in the negative work of merely avoiding sin, but to those who excel in the positive service of God, and exercise love,--"the crown of life which the Lord hath promised to them that love Him." So we see that the crowning blessing derived from being tempted is that it affords us the best possible opportunity of exercising that divine love which must be the motive underlying all our spiritual life and action. So it may be said that the temptation of the present moment is the sacrament of the present moment. A sacrament is the outward and visible sign of an inward and spiritual grace; and temptation, if met with the right disposition, is a sign of a special grace with which God desires to adorn our souls, a grace which we make our own whenever we fight valiantly, and by the power of God gain the mastery over the temptation. Satan seems never to have realized this truth, or else for the maintenance of his own kingdom he would refrain from his assaults on God's {61} people. So has sin blinded the very Prince of Sin. He assaults the Saints of God. In a strength not their own they drive him back baffled and defeated, and the turrets of the infernal citadel topple and crash. In the age-long conflict with God, he has never learned how the divine purpose is using him and his malice, nay, giving direct permission for its exercise against Himself, in order that the eternal Kingdom may be the more surely built up among men. [1] Job vii, 1. (Septuagint Version.) [2] _Imitation_, I, xiii. [3] Ecclus. ii, 1. [4] St. Matt. vi, 13. [5] St. Matt. xxvi, 41. [6] St. Matt. xiii. [7] 1 Cor. x, 13. [8] Heb. ii, 18. [9] Heb. iv, 15. [10] St. James i, 2. [11] 1 St. Peter i, 7. [12] 2 St. John 8. [13] Rev. iii, 11. [14] Office of Holy Baptism. [15] 1 Pet. v, 4. [16] 2 Sam. xi, 11. [17] 2 Cor. ii, 7. [18] 2 Cor. xii, 9. "Weakness is the guardian of our strength."--Pusey, _Parochial Sermons_, II, 337, quoting St. Greg. Mag. [19] Ps. xx, 2. [20] _Imitation_, III, xxxv. "It happens sometimes that men's souls are shipwrecked through evil thoughts, but also it is by the entering in of such thoughts that we become worthy of being crowned."--_Verba Seniarum_, x, 86. Quoted by Hannay in _The Wisdom of the Desert_, p. 221. [21] _Imitation_, I, xiii. [22] Andrewes, _Sermons_, Vol. V, p. 501. [23] Archbishop Leighton, _Commentary_, in loc. [24] Andrewes, _Sermons_, Vol. V, p. 501-502. [25] Rom. xiv, 17. [26] Phil. iv, 7. [27] _Imitation_, I, xiii. [28] St. Matt. x, 24. [29] St. James iv, 8. [30] Ps. lxxxv, 8. [31] Ps. xxix, 4. [32] Ps. cxlviii, 5. [33] St. Francis de Sales, _Spiritual Conferences_, p. 138. [34] Hilton, _The Scale of Perfection_, Bk. II, Pt. I, ch. viii. "A certain brother came to the Abbot Pastor, and said, 'Many evil thoughts come into my mind, and I am in danger through them.' The old man led him out into the air, and said to him, 'Stretch yourself out, and stop the wind from blowing.' The brother, wondering at his words, replied, 'I cannot do that.' Then the old man said to him, 'If you cannot stop the wind from blowing, neither can you prevent evil thoughts from entering your mind. That is beyond your power; but one thing you can do,--conquer them.'"--_Verba Seniorum_, xi, 50. Quoted by Hannay, p. 217. [35] St. James i, 12. {62} CHAPTER V THE SPIRIT OF SOLICITUDE Thomas à Kempis tells us that since the life of man upon earth is a temptation, "Everyone ought therefore to be anxious about his temptations and to watch in prayer."[1] I. _True and False Anxiety_ The anxiety to which we are exhorted is not, however, that attitude of mind and heart which would follow upon any uncertainty, or want of assurance, in regard to the result. The word à Kempis uses gives, in its original significance, no such suggestion. It is _sollicitus_, which has the force of _being wholly aroused_. That is to say, because life on earth is a temptation, we are warned that our whole being must be stirred in the face of such a condition. There must not be a single faculty that is not keen and alert to enter, at a moment's notice, upon the conflict. Every part of our nature must be as a soldier fully armed, standing ready to {63} spring instantly forward to the conflict at the word of command.[2] The anxiety that engenders doubt and fear is indeed too often found among God's people. "It is never free from imperfections and always springs from some evil root of self-love,"[3] and is the result more of a lack of faith than of any true, supernatural solicitude for the safety of our souls. We can well afford to leave all these cares with God. Says the saintly writer we have been quoting, "Greater is Thy anxiety for me than all the care that I can take for myself; for he stands precariously who casts not all his anxiety upon Thee."[4] The true Christian anxiety is closely akin to the virtue of Holy Fear, which, as we know, is one of the special gifts of the Holy Ghost. We are anxious about our temptations and the possibilities of sin, because we have a dread of offending a Father whose love has ever been poured out upon us in most precious benefactions. The soul recognizing God's goodness, and His tender, {64} fatherly love, shrinks from the baseness and ingratitude of wounding that love. We are not afraid of God; we are afraid of offending God because we love Him. There are few virtues that are so immediately rooted in love as Holy Fear. Of course, we have no reference to that servile fear which St. John tells us is cast out by perfect love.[5] He refers to the fear of the slave who dreads to offend because he is afraid of the lash. Holy Fear is the fear that is aroused in the pure heart of a little child who shrinks from that which would wound the love of a tender father. We find the true expression of our filial anxiety in the familiar words of Faber's hymn: "Oh, how I fear Thee, living God, With deepest, tenderest fears, And worship Thee with trembling hope, And penitential tears." II. _Worry Versus Faith_ The presence of worry is proof of absence of trust in God. The two cannot abide in the same heart; and there is no more subtle device of the tempter than this of arousing in us the spirit of worry concerning our temptations. It is a temptation within a temptation, and this very {65} complication has the effect of sadly clouding the real issue. We have the word of the Holy Ghost that "God is faithful, who will not suffer you to be tempted above that ye are able."[6] The word _faithful_ as used here by St. Paul signifies faithfulness in carrying out an agreement. It is implied that God has entered into a covenant with the soul that He will permit no temptation beyond our strength to assail us. The Apostle says that God is faithful and will fulfil His part in this covenant. But the soul that admits worry is, in substance, saying that it is not convinced of God's faithfulness in the matter, and considers, in spite of the promise, that there is much to fear. Worry is the mother of an innumerable brood of sins. Well did the Psalmist say, "Fret not thyself else shalt thou be moved to do evil."[7] He knew somewhat of the sources of sin. His own experience, as well as the inspiration of the Spirit, had taught him that the fretted soul was a fair target for a hundred darts of the enemy. "The very sound of the word anxiety is painful," says a modern writer; "next to sin there is {66} nothing that so much troubles the mind, strains the heart, distresses the soul, and confuses the judgment."[8] Imagine an army troubled, strained, distressed, confused; what possible chance would it have of victory against a powerful and confident foe? It would be the plaything of the enemy, as indeed the human soul often is when it allows itself to be unnerved by a false anxiety. Thus we see that the anxious soul is the doubting soul, and the soul that doubts God's goodness and loving care in the midst of the trial and conflict has already flung away its weapons and prepared the terms of its surrender to Satan. Even if our own experience did not teach us better, His word, so often repeated, should reassure us. What can be more comforting than the many passages concerning the divine care and compassion with which the Scriptures teem? We recall the final summing up of the last great blessing which Moses gave his people from God before he went up into the mount to be seen of them no more. "The eternal God is thy refuge, and underneath are the everlasting arms."[9] Do these words leave room for anxious doubt that in every assault of the enemy He will be with us? Or those other words that have brought strong {67} consolation to so many souls in the midst of the conflict: "I will never leave thee, nor forsake thee"?[10] Would that we could learn the lesson as the Psalmist learned it, that we might rest upon the divine compassion, not enervated as we too often are by human sympathy, but with our hearts thrilling with courage, fearing naught, knowing that He is faithful that hath promised,[11] and should the battle prove too strong He will save and deliver. "He shall send down from on high to fetch me; and shall take me out of many waters."[12] III. _The Cure of a Doubting Spirit_ There are many practical means we can employ to allay that kind of solicitude which is both the cause and effect of a doubting spirit. (1) Think not overmuch of the dangers of the warfare. The imagination brooding over them will be apt to paint them in lurid colours that will terrify and weaken. If the thought of the peril presses upon us, supplant it by recalling the oft repeated pledges of divine help. Think rather of the glory of a conflict in which God is our Leader, and in which victory is absolutely assured if only we do not lose heart but fight on to the end. {68} Recall the precious promises He has given us, and how that often in the very language of these promises we gain a glimpse of conditions of the war that ought mightily to encourage us. "Resist the devil and he will flee from you,"[13] says the Spirit, comforting us concerning the peril of the conflict. Glance for a moment at the particular words the Holy Ghost here chooses. "Resist the devil"; or, to go back to the etymology of the word, Stand against him; yield not one step to him however he may fling the full weight of his power against you. But what will be the result? Not only that your soul will be safe from stain or guilt, but that you will carry consternation into the ranks of hell. "He will flee from you," and the word used by the inspired writer means not merely that he will withdraw and leave you, but that he will make a precipitate flight, as one in a panic flees from impending danger.[14] Let us remember when suggestion of fear comes that this is in itself a special temptation from Satan, and nowhere in his temptations is he guilty of more deliberate lying. As a matter of fact there is no danger, even in the fiercest of his assaults, to the soul that cherishes the {69} presence of Christ within. For if He be in my heart, then the conflict is between Him and the tempter, and so long as my heart is His, and I do not, by wilful sin, drive Him forth, it is as impossible for Satan to conquer as it was for him to have triumphed over our Lord in the great conflict in the wilderness. In short, at such times all our Lord asks is that we maintain our hearts for Him that He may use them as battle-fields upon which to join issue once more with the adversary that He may administer to him another crushing defeat. True, He uses our faculties with which to fight, but the battle is His, and if we stand not in the way His will be the victory. There can be no real danger to the faithful soul when the struggle is conducted under these conditions. (2) Speak not of your anxieties to everyone. We may rightly take counsel with some wise spiritual guide who may be able to interpret them for us; but experience shows us that many times much speaking of these matters gives body and reality to troubles which have no adequate ground, and which might easily have been driven away, had we only sought to divert the mind from them, and so to forget them, instead of impressing them still more on the consciousness by dwelling upon them in thought and conversation. {70} Above all things let not our conversation concerning our anxieties take the form of complaint, for in every case the complaint is against God. He is directing the detail of the warfare, and each complaint is an open questioning of His justice and wisdom and love. When Satan sees that our spirits are thus inclined, how quick he is to take advantage of it. How thick and fast do suggestions come that lead us swiftly on to that state of self-pity at the supposed hardness of our lot, that means a speedy extinction of divine grace within. Remember that complaint means disloyalty, and disloyalty is a long step toward open rebellion. Even if our querulous spirit does not lead directly to such serious sin, it involves us in great peril. We have already seen that Satan has no means of knowing the effect of his assaults except by the outward indications we give. When we openly complain of the force of his attacks, are we not advertising him of our weak points? The garrison that is maintaining a siege not only seeks to keep its fortifications intact, but, should weakness transpire at any point, is most careful not to give the enemy knowledge of it. Keep a brave front always. This not only encourages our own heart, but discourages the adversary. {71} (3) We must also draw upon our past experience to convince ourselves that most of our anxieties have no real basis in fact. How many hours and days of troubled care can we recall which were proved by the issue of the event to have had reality only in our anxious imagination. "My sons," said an old man on his deathbed, in giving his last counsel to his children, "I have had much trouble in this life, but most of it never happened." This is the universal experience, and it holds good with the solicitude that we feel over our temptations and other spiritual trials as in the less important matters of our temporal life. (4) It will be a help to remind ourselves very frequently that in indulging a false anxiety concerning our spiritual difficulties, we are seeking to-day to bear the morrow's burden, something God means no soul to undertake. There are surely temptations enough to-day to require all of to-day's grace and strength; and, conversely, we know that no grace will be wanting for the trials of the present hour. The promise is given to us as to God's people of old, "As thy days so shall thy strength be";[15] that is, according to the need of each particular occasion so will strength be given. There is no {72} promise that strength will be given to-day to bear the anticipated, and often imaginary, ills of the future; and when we allow ourselves thus to anticipate them, we are courting sure defeat. Satan delights to lead us into this false anxiety, for he knows we have at the present moment no grace to grapple with temptations and trials which do not belong to this time; and further, he knows that a faithful confidence in God now is the _sine qua non_ to securing and storing up strength against the future trial. If he can disturb that confidence to-day, when the real temptation comes to-morrow we shall not have laid hold of the grace that was offered, and so cannot but fail, unless some extraordinary mercy of God saves us then in spite of our faithlessness. Nor should we ever permit ourselves to forget that there may be no to-morrow. "Remember that it is God's, not thine."[16] How sad a case would it be (and doubtless there have been many such), if we should weaken our souls and God's power within them, by fretting over what might happen to-morrow; then, the call suddenly coming, find ourselves saved indeed perhaps, but occupying a lower place in heaven forever, because in troubling our hearts over the burdens of a to-morrow that never came we lost the {73} grace of to-day. Every grace given us here is transmuted into glory there. Let us not lose one of them, for the graces proffered and accepted here are pledges of the measure of the heavenly glory that will be ours.[17] IV. _God's Sympathy_ But, do what we will, after all, the best and only unfailing refuge from the snare of a false solicitude is to turn in these anxious moments to Him with Whom alone true sympathy is found. With profit may we hearken to the warning of the blessed à Kempis: "By mutual speech we seek mutual comfort, and desire to ease the heart overwearied with manifold anxieties..... But, alas, often in vain and to no end; for this outward comfort is no small loss of inward and divine consolation."[18] In our solicitude we desire, and rightly desire, human sympathy, and God means us to have it. It was for this very thing that He sent His Son to take our nature and a human heart, full of warm love and sympathy, that we might find in perfection that for which we yearn,--the tender sympathy of our own kind. What sweet and {74} strong consideration for our weakness is shown in this. Mere human sympathy only enervates, and in the end the soul is left weaker than before. Every man's experience has told him this, and yet deep in the human heart there is that uncontrollable longing for the loving touch of another heart, human like our own. God sees this, and condescends to it. He takes humanity, full and complete, up into the Godhead, that in Him we may find that human Heart that will give us perfectly the comfort and sympathy for which we yearn. So in our solicitude let us turn to Him, our Elder Brother, and the disciple who lay on His breast at Supper will have no more loving a welcome, no sweeter a sympathy, than that which He will give to us who are wearied with the burden of life's warfare, and perplexed with the problems of the battle. [1] _Imitation_, I, xiii. [2] "When the mind ceases to entertain religious anxiety, it becomes at the same time forgetful of the commandments, and while it thinks itself advancing, it wanders from the smooth road, and idles on its way."--St. Macarius, _Institutes of Christian Perfection_, Bk. I, chap. v. [3] Scupoli, _The Spiritual Combat_, chap. xxv. [4] _Imitation_, IV, xvii. [5] 1 St. John iv, 18. [6] 1 Cor. x, 13. [7] Ps. xxxvii, 8. The R. V. reads, "Fret not thyself; it tendeth only to evil-doing." [8] Archbp. Ullathorne, _Christian Patience_, p. 128. [9] Deut. xxxiii, 27. [10] Heb. xiii, 5. [11] Heb. xi, 11. [12] Ps. xviii, 16. [13] St. James iv, 7. [14] [Greek: _pheúgô_], from which our English word _fugitive_ is derived. [15] Deut. xxxiii, 25. [16] Pusey, _Parochial Sermons_, Vol. II, p. 158. [17] See a remarkable discourse in Dr. Pusey's _Lenten Sermons_ on "The Losses of the Saved." [18] _Imitation_, I, x. {75} CHAPTER VI OUR PREPARATION FOR TEMPTATION I. _A Double Weapon_ If we have the right spirit of solicitude about our temptations, it will arm us with a double weapon against Satan which he will have no power to break. We are told that we are to watch in prayer,--_vigilare in orationibus_.[1] It is the command given by our Lord to his disciples in the Garden in the hour of the power of darkness: "Watch ye and pray lest ye enter into temptation."[2] St. Paul, also, in his exhortation to the Ephesian Christians to "put on the whole armour of God,"[3] does not regard it as enough to give the great list of virtues with which they are to be panoplied. The loins must indeed be girt with truth; the breastplate of righteousness must be buckled on and the sandals of the preparation of the gospel of peace; while above all else there must be the shield of faith; and the great catalogue of {76} the Christian soldier's equipment ends with the helmet of salvation and the sword of the Spirit. But this armour is not sufficient for the warfare. Complete as it seems, something else is necessary to insure the victory; and so the great Christian warrior, who himself had "fought a good fight,"[4] adds something more, namely, watchfulness and prayer,--"_Praying_ always, with all prayer and supplication in the Spirit, and _watching_ thereunto with all perseverance and supplication for all saints." How strong are his words, poured forth with such impetuosity of expression as to seem to a superficial reader to be almost tautological,--"praying with all prayer and supplication." How careful, too, is he to remind us that this prayer and supplication must be "in the Spirit," in response to the Spirit's impulse, and with the right judgment that He alone can give, and which He will give only to those who ask Him "nothing wavering."[5] Nor will prayer alone suffice. There must be a "watching thereunto with all perseverance"; not relaxing our vigilance, but maintaining it to the end. Neither is the soul to grow faint in its watch, nor imagine, in regard to any point, that careful guard is no longer necessary. {77} The word "thereunto" calls for comment. Does the vigilance enjoined apply only to the work of prayer which has just been mentioned, or does it reach back to the whole category of duties included in putting on the armour of God? At first glance it might seem inadequate to make it refer only to the all-embracing duty of prayer, but if we comprehend fully all that prayer means, we shall see that it is not necessary that we should directly connect the injunction to vigilance with anything else.[6] If we are keenly vigilant to pray as we ought in the power of the Spirit concerning truth and righteousness, faith and salvation, and all else that the Apostle has been describing, nothing will be wanting to us as good soldiers of Jesus Christ. How truly did à Kempis catch the thought which the Holy Spirit had given the great Apostle when he paraphrased our Lord's command in the words, "Be watchful in prayer." Let us consider, then, this twofold weapon with which God will arm us, for we note that they are not two separate weapons. Our Lord said, "Watch ye and pray," and the blessed à Kempis gives us, as we have just seen, the true commentary on the command in the paraphrase, "Watch in prayer." {78} Vigilance without prayer would be to learn of the danger, and yet fail to guard against it. To pray without vigilance would be to expect God to work some miracle for us, to protect us when we ourselves had done nothing to employ the means He places in our hands for forestalling and defeating Satan. In short, it would be a sin of presumption. So one cannot avail without the other. With this understanding clear in our minds, let us proceed to examine the relation of vigilance and prayer to temptation. II. _The Spirit of Vigilance_ "_Watch._" This implies much more than a mere guarding ourselves in a general way. It means that a systematic and regular guard is to be kept over our _whole life_, over _all_ our senses and faculties, over _all_ circumstances and conditions so far as we can by any means direct them. Here again we may find our illustration in the world about us. Approach the camp of a well disciplined army. How quickly you are challenged. Seek to enter it on any side, and a sentinel, alert and suspicious, keeps you at a distance. The foe may be hovering in the darkness of the neighbouring forest, or he may be a hundred miles away, but this makes no difference in the vigilance of the guard. They take {79} no chances. The enemy is abroad, and no man sleeps on his post. Nor is it the known weak points only, or only the side from which the attack is expected, that receives attention. Everywhere strict watchfulness is maintained, while the threatened points are doubly sentinelled. We have in this the picture of what the watch about the beleaguered soul should be. The soul that means to give a good and generous service to God must guard itself at every point. How frequently, when attention is called to some sin, do we think, "Oh, that is not my weakness," or, "That would constitute no temptation to me whatever." Vain, boasting spirit!--trusting to escape from evil by merely natural means! How Satan gloats as he marks one point that is being left unguarded, and waits, alert and observant, for a favourable opportunity for attack. Through long time, months and years it may be, he maintains a steady, subtle work of suggestion, leading the mind little by little, unconsciously because no guard is kept, into an attitude where the temptation we boastingly defied will prove a terrible foe before whose sudden onslaught we shall go down in grievous and ignominious fall. If in truth God has spared us the fall into some sin that happens in the lives of those about us, our safety will lie not in self-congratulation, {80} but in humble thanksgiving that only through the mercy of God have we been spared this stain. "But for the mercy of God, there goes John Bradford," exclaimed a rugged old Christian as a condemned murderer passed by on his way to death. Again, our vigilance must be especially directed against the temptations to which we have already yielded. When a sin has once found entrance, it is easy for it to enter again, not only because experience of the sin itself makes it attractive, but because psychologically it is easy to do the thing we have done before. In my self-examination to-night I find that a certain sin has been committed. Let me mark it over against the morrow that the temptation, if it recur, may be stamped out quickly, lest the fault entering often become habitual, and a binding chain of besetting sin be forged about my soul. Similarly must we guard the particular faculty that we find has led us into sin. Is it pride of intellect, the desire to show what little we know, the instinctive tendency to monopolize conversation, or to instruct and correct others? Or is it a weakness that has its seat in our affections, a tendency to condone sin in those we love, or a critical spirit against those for whom we have no natural affinity? Or perhaps it is a sin of speech; {81} the unkind word we so easily speak, the idle boast of our own achievements; or the sin of idle conversation, the "objectless" talk that occupies so much of our conversation with others, and which our Lord so terribly condemned.[7] Although no sin may have been committed, yet an oft-recurring temptation is always to be diligently watched. It indicates that Satan, who generally knows us better than we know ourselves, has reason to believe that here is a weak point in our armour; or that he thinks that God might, for some reason, be particularly dishonoured by our commission of the sin suggested at some special time or place. Vigilance, too, must be kept regarding occasions of sin. For this reason we should practise not only daily examination of conscience that we may learn wherein we have failed, but we should begin each day with an anticipation of possible happenings. Where do I expect to go? Whom shall I see? What duties are to be performed which may occasion temptation? Perhaps I know that, if the expected routine of the day be not disturbed, I shall go to a certain place and shall meet certain people. The last time I was in that place something occurred which caused me to sin. Is the occasion of that sin still there? {82} If so, I must note it, and be most guarded concerning it. Perhaps I shall meet a certain person who irritates and annoys me. This, too, I must note, and forestall by some prompt word or act of charity, before the temptation has time to present itself. III. _Prayer and Temptation_ All this vigilance will, however, avail nothing unless it be combined with prayer. The good soldier in the field does not depend upon himself, but is constantly referring to headquarters for instructions, and this reference on the part of the soldier in the armies of the Kingdom is what we call prayer. We must, however, get beyond the narrow and inadequate notion that prayer is confined to formal acts of praise, thanksgiving, confession, and petition. These are real and essential parts of prayer, and we have need of them as we shall see; but they are not all. Every act of directing the human will towards the will of God is prayer in its truest and most comprehensive sense. Every longing of the heart for God, every effort to identify ourselves with Him, our wills with His will, though there be neither word, nor even thought, definitely framed, is prayer. Our spoken prayers may have prayed {83} themselves away; the mind and body may be so wearied that formal acts of prayer are a burden to the flesh, and well-nigh impossible. But these are not necessary if we are keeping our hearts turned towards Him, and are striving, even though at times we may not appear to succeed, to maintain, around and within, that atmosphere of loving devotion which is the Christian's way of keeping open the lines of communication with his base of supplies. Our first duty in prayer, as a preparation over against temptation, is to address ourselves directly to the case in hand, and, pleading our own nothingness, to ask God to go with us through the day to defend and succour us. Pray about the particular occasion of sin that may seem imminent; pray with especial earnestness as we approach it more nearly. But the prayer must not be for ourselves alone. If there are others involved we must pray for them, that they too may be controlled by the Holy Spirit. If the occasion we are approaching is one that is dangerous because we have before yielded to Satan, no prayer can be of greater effect than an act of contrition for the past sins, the commission of which is now involving us in renewed peril. Every act of contrition purifies the soul more and more, and adds to the strength with which {84} we are to meet the confident enemy on the scene of his former victory, but this time to put him to flight. "_Amplius lava me_,"--Wash me more and more,--was the cry of the Psalmist in his great prayer of penitence.[8] Here we cannot fail to consider the particular strength which comes from the greatest prayer of contrition,--sacramental confession and the absolution which follows. If the anticipated occasion be one of possible mortal sin, and if the sin of the past has been grievous, the best preparation will be the seeking of absolution in the tribunal of penance. Every sacrament brings its own particular grace, and the special grace of absolution is a power infused into us which will apply to the especial need of our souls. Satan has at some time been able to effect an entrance at some point; again he draws near to assault the absolved soul, confident that he will find the same avenue open. To his chagrin, however, he finds it not only closed, but fortified with a special gift of strength from God; and, fearing the shame of a defeat, he will often withdraw without attacking. This is a common experience with those who habitually frequent the tribunal of penance. How many times have we had many and grievous {85} falls into some particular sin; we make a good confession and go away not only cleansed, but strengthened by the grace of absolution; and after some days or weeks we begin to realize with a sense of joyful surprise that the temptation which a little while ago was constantly appearing seems to be entirely withdrawn. The occasion may arise, but the soul feels no drawing to that in which it had before sinned. It is the operation of the special grace of absolution, a grace which cannot be had other than through the Sacrament of Penance, whatever other great graces God may give us in reward for true contrition of spirit. It is important that the work of prayer in preparation for temptation should cover every point. As we have already thought in connection with watchfulness, nothing must be done in the natural spirit; no temptation can be overcome by means of dependence on anything else but the gifts of divine grace. "Not by might, nor by power, but by My Spirit, saith the Lord of Hosts."[9] It is a part of the Faith that we can do nothing pleasing to God in the natural spirit. Nothing can be acceptable with Him, nothing can draw from Him the graces we need, save what is done {86} through the power and influence of the Third Person of the Ever-Blessed Trinity. The Apostle says that no man can do so simple a thing as to "say that Jesus is the Lord but by the Holy Ghost."[10] So it is the Holy Ghost Who is to be our guide and protector. Do we pray to the Holy Ghost? We pray often to the Father; frequently, perhaps, to God the Son, but how much is prayer to God the Holy Ghost neglected amongst Christians! And yet He alone is the agent of the Godhead in the Church. His is the work of sanctification, as the Father's is the work of creation, and the Son's that of redemption. No grace comes to us save through the Spirit. Everything that comes into our lives from God, whether by means of prayer or sacrament, faith or good works, comes through the personal action of the Holy Ghost. Therefore in preparing for temptation let us look to Him and pray to Him in all things; and thus "strengthened by His Spirit in the inner man,"[11] we can go forth to the day's conflict, knowing that the assaults of Satan and the occasions of sin can only bring us new opportunities of victory that will merit us the crown of life which is promised to them that overcome. In the midst of this prayer in preparation for {87} temptation we must expect to find ourselves the objects of Satan's peculiar malice. All prayer is a challenge to him, but none so much as the prayer by which we are gaining new force and resource to employ against him.[12] In this, as in all else, we see how carefully Satan conducts his warfare. If it were possible to do so, what leader would fail to attack his enemy when he was in the very act of laying in new supplies of food and ammunition upon which to subsist, and with which to fight? Lastly, in the very moment of temptation our prayers must be strong and unceasing. The more the temptation increases, the more fervently--yea, desperately--must we pray, crying out as a drowning man might call to the only one from whom he could expect help. But, says one, there's the rub. How can I pray when a thousand distractions are thrust in so powerfully from every side? We are to find the answer to such questions in our Lord's {88} hour of deepest temptation in Gethsemane where we are told that "being in an agony, he prayed more earnestly"[13]--literally, more intensely. Let the intensity of our prayer keep pace with the intensity of assault. We can more than defeat Satan if at such times we compel ourselves to pray with greater care and exactness, framing with extraordinary care the very words we are speaking to God, and if our perturbation be such that we can find no words to utter, let us not grow faint, but remember that this was precisely the case with our Lord in His Agony, when He prayed over and over again, "saying the same words."[14] By his constant effort to interfere with our prayers, especially in seasons of trial and temptation, Satan gives his testimony to the efficiency which we shall acquire if we are earnest in our work of preparation for the battle. He fears it with a fear born of long experience. "Grievous indeed to us," says St. Bernard, "is the temptation of the enemy, but far more grievous to him is our prayer."[15] He has through all the ages contended against the grace and strength of God as he found it in its manifold forms in the Saints. He sees the history of the spiritual {89} warfare repeating itself in us, and surely it should be a source of rejoicing to us that he should count us as foes to be feared, as he feared in other days, or in our own time, the great Saints and warriors of the Kingdom of God. [1] _Imitation_, I, xiii. [2] St. Mark xiv, 38. [3] Eph. vi, 11-18. [4] 2 Tim. iv, 7. [5] St. James i, 6. [6] See _The Speaker's Commentary_, in loc. [7] St. Matt. xii, 36. [8] Ps. li, 2. [9] Zech. iv, 6. [10] Cor. xii, 3. [11] Eph. iii, 16. [12] "St. Thomas and many other grave doctors say that it is by reason of the war that the devil is accustomed to make against those that are in prayer, that the Church, directed by the Holy Ghost, ordains that we should begin all the canonical Hours with this verse, 'O God, make speed to save me: O Lord, make haste to help me.' Whereby we implore God's assistance in prayer against the snares and temptations of the enemy."--Quoted by Rodriguez, _Christian Perfection_. [13] St. Luke xxii, 44. [14] St. Matt. xxvi, 44. [15] St. Bernard, _Serm. in Dedicat. Eccles._, III. {90} CHAPTER VII TRAINING THE INNER LIFE I. _Environment and Character_ A psychological principle we should never lose sight of is that the attitude of mind and heart towards all moral questions is just what we choose to make it. Surround a man with debasing associations, and let him yield to the resulting influences, and he becomes debased. On the other hand, the influence of a pure and noble environment makes for purity and nobility of character. Every man in his inner character, and in that outward expression of character that we call life, is the product of the influences to which he yields himself. One of our chief dangers, however, is that many influences flow out from our daily environment of which we are quite unconscious. We are not always in a position to realize our surroundings and their effect, and even when we can realize them, it is often beyond our power to control them. But before an external influence can work any hurt to us, there must be something {91} within that answers to it. A child may pass unscathed through an environment of vice, because there is nothing in the child-heart that responds to the call of sin. Our Lord had this in mind, perhaps, when He laid it down as a condition necessary to entrance into the Kingdom of God that we should become as little children,[1] and He was able to make this condition quite absolute, because while no man can control his external environment and the consequent influences, he can, by the deliberate use of his will, acting in the power of the Holy Ghost, create, in very large measure, whatever interior condition he wishes. By his daily course he can develop a moral and spiritual interior that will habitually respond with alacrity to the evil and be deaf to the good; or, on the other hand, one that will not only rise up quickly to entertain every good influence and suggestion, but will in a large measure (though never wholly in this life) be even unconscious like little children of the presence of evil influences.[2] {92} So let us learn how to create an interior environment in which the Holy Ghost will be the dominant force. Otherwise Satan will surely surround us with so much of sin, that becoming accustomed to it, and to the thought of it, we shall be unable to resist the effort he will make to use our faculties as instruments for his work. Nor must we wait until conscious of his approach before seeking to create the proper interior environment. In most cases it will then be too late. It is not easy to surround ourselves with an atmosphere of good and pious thought in the moment of assault. We must be beforehand with him. In times of peace we must prepare for war. We may be quite sure that it is with the intention of affording us the opportunity to do this that God often gives us rest from the attacks of the enemy. He does not mean us to lie idle at such times, but to seize the opportunity to train for future battles, just as soldiers in barracks engage in daily drill that they may be more efficient fighters when again called to take the field. "After thou hast escaped these {93} temptations, or else if our Lord hath so kept thee (as He doth many by His mercy), that thou hast not been troubled much by any such, then it is good for thee that thou beware of turning thy rest into idleness."[3] Let us consider how Satan uses certain of our faculties as instruments of sin, and see how by a definite system of spiritual exercises we can so forestall him that he will find nothing in us ready for his use. II. _Educating the Memory_ How much sin, for example, is due to the action of memory! It is indeed strange that this wonderful faculty, which more than any other operates to give unity, consistency, and proportion to our life, should be so often used to call up past sins that we may sin them over again in will if not in deed. We linger with pleasure, by the exercise of this faculty, over past sins, making them our own again, staining our souls once more with that which we thought had been buried forever in the far-off years. We bring to renewed life old revenges, ancient hates, and revel again amid scenes of impurity which can never be re-enacted in real life. Such {94} acts, frequently indulged, grow into a habit, and the habit becomes necessity when the memory not only easily and naturally reverts to those events and conditions of the past that were bound up with sin, but becomes so trained that it must recall the evil, and can only with great stress, difficulty, and distaste be made to recall that which is good. If, on the other hand, by persistent acts of will we force the memory to recall the righteous passages from our past, far-off happenings sweet and holy, we, little by little, train it to retain these righteous things, while all other impressions grow more and more dim as the years go by. Those who have practised such methods find that after a time the memory, even when left alone, will engage itself with that which is good, just because it has become accustomed to it, and will reject the evil (in many cases, of itself, without the direct interposition of the will), because long exercise has so trained it that in its ordinary operation evil memories are repugnant to it. Therefore keep the memory definitely busy. Too often when we think it is browsing, as it were, carelessly among the fields of the past, it is, as a matter of fact, being subtly directed by Satan, until, ere we know it, it has fallen upon some evil thing whose touch is poison. {95} III. _Guiding the Imagination_ So likewise with the imagination. Perhaps no human faculty is responsible for so much sin, and there is a peculiar heinousness in sins of the imagination. In His mercy God has limited our sphere of sin. There are certain evils impossible for us because He has withheld us from the condition necessary for their commission. Instead, therefore, of being grateful for such a blessed limitation, we use the imagination to conjure up impossible situations. We create new worlds for ourselves, new theatres for our exploits of pride and wickedness, and in them, through will and imagination, we enact the sin that it would be impossible to commit in our actual external lives. This strong activity of the imagination can and must be directed. If this mysterious faculty be so prone to produce its own creations, if we indeed will dream of things that do not belong to the present moment, let them be holy things. Yes, let the imagination run as fast as it will, check it in nothing save in the subjects of its activity. Let it transport us to heavenly places. Let it picture to our astonished vision the things that will be hereafter, the company of heaven, {96} the companionship of the Saints, the glory of the Lamb. Or, if these ranges be too lofty, let the fancy create new earthly theatres for our activity. Let us picture ourselves following Jesus as He "went about doing good";[4] let us see Him healing the lepers, opening the eyes of the blind, raising the dead, blessing the little children; let us bring vividly before us the great example of His life; and let the picture so burn itself, through the power of the imagination, into the very fabric of the brain, that we cannot choose but make it the model for our own lives. So, after a time, the imagination will become so trained that it will ever be creating holy things, and presenting them for our consideration, and will become incapable, in the end, of producing any picture that could not find ready reflection in the stainless mirror of the human mind of our Blessed Lord. When we consider the method of thus training the inner man, we find that our course must be shaped by means of certain practices, which should be strenuously pursued if real progress is to be made. These practices will be, as à Kempis says particularly of one of them, as a rudder guiding the ship, keeping it on its proper course. {97} Those we shall consider especially are: (1) Constancy of mind and will; (2) Patience; (3) Calmness; (4) Diligence. IV. _The Practice of Constancy_ Thomas à Kempis says, "The beginning of all evil temptations is inconstancy of mind, and small confidence in God, for as a ship without a rudder is tossed to and fro by the waves, so the man who is slack and quits his purpose is many ways tempted."[5] God, knowing human weakness and incapacity, requires but little of man, but He does emphatically require that this little be resolutely purposed, and definitely executed. The soldier who threshes wildly about the field, however fiercely and courageously, is not the one to contribute to the victory. He who sets a definite purpose before him; who knows just what he wants to do, and allows nothing to shake his purpose, is the one on whom the commander can depend to accomplish something in the battle. So in our spiritual warfare the most important factor is definiteness of purpose, and constancy in executing it. The Christian warfare must be conducted by rule. When I arise each morning {98} to the work of another day, I must know, as far as possible, what that work is; I must know the particular method by which it is to be performed; I must have submitted it all to God so that, feeling assured of "a right judgment in all things," I shall be able to go forward to my duty without doubt or hesitation. The army that knows not when to fight, whose officers are in confusion and uncertainty regarding the next move, falls an easy prey to the enemy. But let the same army be provided with a definite plan of campaign; let every officer and man, each in his place, know just what he is to do under every condition that may arise; and the enemy will have no easy task to defeat it. This all points to the necessity of the Christian having a Rule of Life, and holding fast to it; allowing himself to be drawn off to nothing else until that be fulfilled. Satan has a subtle way at times of seeking to disturb our spirit of constancy by suggesting something that, in itself, is better and higher than that we have resolved upon. But let us not be deceived by this clever move on his part. If we have undertaken a definite thing for God, that is the highest and best for us until it be accomplished; and the thought that any thing can be more pleasing to Him is but a wile of the devil; and to entertain the {99} suggestion is to be guilty of pride. Better a small and humble service well performed, than great things poorly done. "Our advancement and perfection consist not in the performance of very extraordinary things, or in the being employed in the highest and most labourious offices of religion, but only in doing our ordinary actions well, and in acquitting ourselves well of whatsoever obedience employs us in, be it ever so mean or easy."[6] So Christian perfection, against which all temptation is directed, consists in doing ordinary things extraordinarily well. The conclusion of the matter is that we cannot be safe unless our whole life is lived by definite, practical rule; a rule for rising in the morning, for prayers, for our Bible reading, our Communions, our Confessions, for the commonest details of our daily routine, leaving nothing to be decided by chance or whim. A life thus ordered and carried out with constancy of purpose and will, for the glory of God, is a standing {100} menace to Satan's power. He fears it, because he knows that it possesses a power against which his long experience and consummate skill are as nothing. V. _The Practice of Calmness_ A life lived as has been described above is one that will be dominated by a spirit of calmness, a calmness born of strength. The strong man is always the calm man. An agitated spirit is the evidence of a conscious weakness. The soldier who has faith in his commander, who knows he can rely on the weapons furnished him, and who is certain that his strength is greater than that of his enemy, is not excited in the face of attack. He receives it with serenity because he feels assured of what the result will be. It is uncertainty that brings agitation; it is the uncertainties of life that produce the worry that kills--and worry means want of faith. But the Christian soldier is beset by no uncertainties. If, in unswerving trust, he keeps his will firm for God, knit up with the perfect human will of our Lord, he knows there are no contingencies in the warfare he is waging. There can be but one issue,--that of complete and glorious victory. If this assurance concerning the issue produces calmness, the spirit of calm will in its turn react {101} upon us for the greater certainty of the victory.[7] The heart that is calm is the one that is capable of seeing all things in their true nature and relation. Such a heart is not easily deceived by the tempter, nor can it be frightened by the clamour of his onslaught. With steady hand it parries his deadliest thrusts, and assuming the offensive is able in its turn to inflict mortal wounds upon the power of Satan wherever it may be manifested. VI. _The Practice of Patience_ Patience is also a necessary virtue that has constantly and assiduously to be cultivated if we would be ready always for the battle. (1) We are to be patient with God, biding His time, tarrying His leisure,[8] awaiting whatever He may send in the conflict, assuring one's heart always that He rules and overrules, and that all things work together for good to those who love Him.[9] (2) We know the necessity of patience with our fellow-men. Our daily experience show us how large a proportion of temptation arises from failure to bear with those among whom we live, {102} not infrequently those who hold the first place in our hearts. A wholesome remedy for impatience with those about us is to remember ourselves. "Endeavour to be patient in bearing with the defects and infirmities of others of what sort soever they be: for thou also hast many which must be borne with by others. If thou canst not make thyself what thou wouldest, how canst thou expect to have another to thy liking? We are glad to see others perfect; and yet we mend not our own faults. We will have others severely corrected: and will not be corrected ourselves. The large liberty of others displeases us: and yet we will not have our own desires denied us. We will have others restrained by laws: but will not in any way be checked ourselves. And thus it appears: how seldom we weigh our neighbour in the same balance with ourselves."[10] (3) All these things we have just been considering are doubtless familiar to us, but perhaps the thought of patience with ourselves is not so common a one, although there is no more important a factor in all the Christian warfare. Patience must be exercised towards oneself as towards a weak and wayward child. We are not to expect too much of ourselves. To turn upon oneself angrily or bitterly because we cannot {103} immediately drive away some persistent temptation, or because we have yielded,[11] is an act of spiritual pride. It shows that we thought ourselves quite able to cope with the tempter; prided ourselves indeed upon our spiritual powers; and are now in a state of surprise and indignation that we should have failed; when all the while, had we known ourselves, we should have seen that the real wonder is that we are ever able at all to resist him successfully. Nor must we be surprised if there seem to rise up out of our own hearts foul and humiliating temptations. We are not to forget that we are made from the dust of the earth that can, of itself, bring forth naught but thorns and thistles. The material of temptation is everywhere, within and without, the soul "having the worst temptation within itself in its own temptibility."[12] Nor will he who understands himself and his own weakness grow impatient with the long {104} continuance of the battle. He will recognize that if he had his just deserts he would long since have been cast out from God rather than permitted to wear the King's uniform, and fight battles for the honour of His Name. He who knows himself will go softly all the days of his life, knowing that only by so great a salvation as that wrought on Calvary has he been preserved from the power of the enemy. So "by little and little, and by patience with long suffering through God's help thou shalt better overcome, than by hardness and thine own pertinacity."[13] VII. _The Practice of Diligence_ There remains to be considered the spirit of diligence that must characterize the soldier of Christ. Keep yourself always busy with the things of God. Keep the whole mental faculty engaged; keep it under the command of the Holy Ghost, for just as in all else that belongs to man, if God does not direct it, Satan will. There is a deep spiritual truth in the old proverb, "An idle brain is the devil's workshop." Not only will this course superinduce such habits of thought and character as will strengthen us mightily, but, the human mind being what it {105} is, will render it often impossible for Satan to find lodgment in it for his temptation. The mind can only be engaged with a limited number of things at any one time. This varies with various persons, according to their mental training and development, but even the most highly developed mind can compass but few things at the same moment. Our common mental processes consist of one thought, or group of thoughts, thrusting out others, and taking their place until in their turn they are displaced. Since this is the case, one's safety from evil thoughts lies in diligently keeping the mind filled with good and holy thoughts. Keep the will at work calling up a continuous procession of suggestions and pictures of things righteous and God-like, and when Satan approaches to insinuate into the heart his temptations, he will find it so full that there will be no room in it for him or his works. This must be done in an organized and methodical way. Let us not trust to chance opportunity. At every moment the will is, consciously or subconsciously, making a choice either for good or evil. Our part is to seize upon these moments and force that inevitable choosing to be not only righteous, but definitely and explicitly a choice of righteousness. Practise over and over again the work of {106} choosing God. Arraign before the mind things good and evil, the higher and the lower, that the will may be drilled in the repeated preference of what belongs to Him. This will be a much simpler method than may seem at first. How many moments are there in each day when we are, of necessity, unoccupied. We have to wait five minutes for an appointment; we spend a quarter of an hour on a crowded car; we have a little distance to walk to reach some destination; or occasionally there is a wakeful hour at night. What are we doing all this time? We can be sure the will is operating. It stands sentinel to admit or repulse every thought that comes; and what is the nature of the thoughts admitted? Idle thoughts, critical thoughts of those about us, silly vain thoughts of self,--how covered with confusion and shame we should be if some by-stander were able to look within and see the busy, thronging procession that streams through our mind unchallenged, nay more, welcomed and indulged. Yet this is the very opportunity God gives us to busy ourselves for Him: and instead of using it, we let it run to sinful waste, marring our whole character, for as a man thinks, so he is. How much better would it have been had we said, when we realized the unoccupied minute: {107} "I will use this little time to make an act of love, of hope, of faith. I will speak to Him familiarly in some ejaculation of prayer. I will, for His praise, repeat some psalm I may know by heart. I will pray for some of these people, strangers though they be to me."[14] Then immediately perform this resolution in a most definite way, framing with care even the very words with the lips, that the body as well as the mind may have its part in the work. Try this for a month, earnestly and persistently, and at the end of that time see if the whole inner being does not spontaneously turn to such holy exercises. So far as the human aspect of it is concerned, it is a mere matter of psychology. The mind acts thus, because it has been trained to it. The repeated act has formed the habit, and the habit in its turn repeats the act; but through and in it all is divine grace, the very life of God, operating in the infinite activity of His love. Especially must we exercise this diligence when we perceive the tempter's approach. When we become conscious of the slightest suggestion that seems to point to sin, let the will rally all our {108} faculties to expel it, and to fill the mind so full that it can have no chance of returning. But here as everywhere else must we be on our guard against Satan's subtilty and power. Often in response to such an attitude on our part, he presents some attractive thought, pure and good, perhaps; then another and another, leading the soul that is not watchful by a long train of associated ideas up to the goal he has prepared, to some one thought that is either itself sin if consented to, or the ready vehicle of sin. Accustom the mind with unwearied diligence to such thoughts as we can readily, conceive finding place in the mind of Christ, rejecting all others. "Whatsoever things are true, whatsoever things are honest, whatsoever things are just, whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever things are lovely, whatsoever things are of good report; if there be any virtue, and if there be any praise, think on these things."[15] Let the mind be thus employed, and Satan may indeed be able to lead us along some line of thought up to the place of temptation, but it will be only to find, as with our Lord, when he bore Him up to the pinnacle of the temple, that this place of his own choosing will prove the scene of his own utter defeat. [1] St. Matt. xviii, 3. [2] "A temptation can never be divorced from a course of life. It is woven into the very texture of life's continuity. It is a temptation because of what we are _at the time_. It is the conditions of the crisis which make a moment, a decision, critical.... It is thus the whole setting of a life which brings temptation. So temptation is never clean detached from the past, or the future, of the tempted; for there is no such thing as a human experience which has not its roots in the past, and its fruit in the sequel."--H. J. C. Knight, _The Temptation of our Lord_, p. 55. [3] Walter Hilton, _The Scale of Perfection_, Bk. I, Pt. II, chap. i. [4] Acts x, 38. [5] _Imitation_, I, xiii. [6] Rodriguez, _The Practice of Religious and Christian Perfection_, Vol. I, p. 86. Pere Grou teaches "that nothing is small or great in God's sight; whatever He wills becomes great to us, however seemingly trifling, and if once the voice of conscience tells us that He requires anything of us, we have no right to measure its importance.... There is no standard of things great and small to a Christian, save God's will."--_The Hidden Life of the Soul_, p. 206. ("Half-a-Crown" Ed.) [7] "Be still, then, and know that I am God."--Ps. xlvi, 10. "In quietness and in confidence shall be your strength."--Isa. xxx, 15. [8] Ps. xxvii, 16. [9] Rom. viii, 28. [10] _Imitation_, I, xvi. [11] "You are vexed at the vexation, and then you are vexed at having been vexed. I have seen people in the same way get into a passion, and then be angry because they had lost their temper!"--St. Francis de Sales, _Spiritual Letters_, xxvii. [12] S. T. Coleridge, _Aids to Reflection_, p. 186. (Bohn Ed.) Bishop Andrewes in his second sermon on the Temptation of Christ, speaking of it being impossible for Him to have sinned since there was no fire of concupiscence in Him, quaintly says: "To us the devil needs bring but a pair of bellows, for he shall find fire within us."--Andrewes, _Sermons_, Vol. V, p. 508. [13] _Imitation_, I, xiii. [14] A busy Wall Street financier not long since told the writer that for several years, whenever stepping from an omnibus or car, in the thronged street or crowded railway station, he had made a practice of offering an ejaculation of prayer for his fellow-passengers. [15] Phil. iv, 8. {109} CHAPTER VIII THE STAGES OF THE BATTLE The spiritual masters in every age are at agreement concerning the process by which the soul passes from a state of grace into a state of sin. They express it in various ways, and in varying degrees of elaboration, but when analysed it can be brought down to three steps given us by St. Gregory, _Suggestion, Pleasure, Consent_.[1] Thomas à Kempis presents it somewhat more fully, and it is with his statement of the process that we purpose engaging ourselves. "First," he says, "a bare thought comes to the mind; then a strong imagination; afterwards pleasure, and evil motion, and consent."[2] I. _The Satanic Suggestion_ First of all, then, "the bare thought,"--_simplex cogitatio_,--"comes to the mind"; or more literally _runs upon_ (_occurit_), the mind. The word {110} is full of action. The suggestion of evil does not drift into the mind in any merely accidental way. It is propelled from without by a strong, alert intelligence,--none other than the Tempter,--and under just the conditions and circumstances that his experience shows him are the most advantageous for his uses. � Kempis doubtless had here in mind St. Paul's thought, expressed to the Corinthians, "There hath no temptation _taken_ you, but such as is common to man";[3] the idea being that of the temptation laying hold of the soul as a warrior might take hold upon his adversary in battle. He proposes the evil thing, not perhaps as a thing sinful in itself, for, as we have already seen, his experience has taught him that few souls, even of the most depraved, can be induced to accept evil for evil's sake. He presents it sometimes under the guise of that which is positively good; or perhaps, with an assumption of great virtue, he acknowledges it to be wrong in itself, but seeks to persuade us that it would be right for us to make an exception of ourselves under the peculiar circumstances that are present. It is necessary for us to study with care the subject of suggestion of sin, lest either through Satan's wiles, or our own ignorance, we be deceived, to our soul's hurt. It is at this point {111} that we must understand the difference between temptation and sin. The failure to grasp this difference has been the cause of great distress to many faithful souls; it has been the root of fatal discouragement in numberless cases, and, in not a few, of downfall and final wreck. The suggestion may often be the result of our past unfaithfulness. It is not always easy to trace the pedigree of a temptation, but in most cases it is highly likely that it is to be traced back to some failure of our own in the past. Men indulge themselves; they whet the imagination with evil thought and conversation and reading. They develop their passions by giving rein to them. By continued failure to resist, they go on in the same sin under many varying conditions, until a hundred commonplace, every-day happenings, entirely innocent in themselves, become charged with sinful suggestions, recalling the old sin whenever they occur. It is as though a commander should plant powerful batteries about his own fortress, preparing them to be used by the enemy. Thus learning from our past, we know how to guard ourselves for the future. Present faithfulness is the pledge, and the only pledge, of future security.[4] {112} Or it may be that Satan, accustomed to success in leading us astray in certain things, is encouraged to suggest like evil to our minds again. However this may be, whether the suggestion arises from the evil bent that our minds have received through former yielding, or whether it be Satan's device and unprovoked solicitation, _there is no sin in the mere fact that evil is suggested to our minds, however persistently or strongly_.[5] In any case it had its origin outside of us, and unless we have deliberately run into the occasion of sin, or in some culpable way invited it, we are in the immediate case not responsible for the suggestion. Therefore, the suggestion can in no way be regarded as sin, for unless our wills have brought it about, or consciously encouraged it, our souls are unstained. Without the action of the will, no sin can enter the heart. "What is done without, or against, our will, rather takes place in us, than is done _by_ us."[6] {113} "No risings, then, of any passion, yea, though it should rise again and again, against thee, and by rising weary thee, and almost wear thee out: no thought by night when thou hast not power over thy soul, and thy will is not conscious: no thoughts by day, which come to thee again and again, and besiege thee and torment thee, and would claim thee for their own: no distractions in prayer, even if they carry thee away, and thou lose thyself and awake, as it were, out of a dream, and thy prayer be gone,--none of these things are thine. Nothing without thy will is thine, or will be imputed to thee. It is not the mere presence with thee of what thou hatest: it is not the recurrence, again and again, of what thou loathest, which will hurt thee: not even if it seems to come from thy inmost self, unless thy will consent to it."[7] II. _The Response of the Natural Heart_ Following upon the suggestion, à Kempis tells us there comes "a strong imagination." The undisciplined soul does not instantly turn from the suggestion. It allows a vivid picture of it to attract and hold the attention. This may be quite involuntary, and, if so, is not in itself sin, but unless the attention be speedily withdrawn {114} there follows the second stage of temptation, namely, Pleasure. _Deletatio_ is the word à Kempis uses, which has the sense of a pleasure which entices one from the right way. Here again, however, we must make the careful distinction between temptation and sin, if we would not be entangled in a fatal network of scruples. Though there may spring up in our hearts a distinct sense of delight at the thought of committing the sin suggested, yet in this delight itself there is no sin, unless the will enters in to confirm it. This is not the kind of delight that St. Paul speaks of in his terrible condemnation of those "who believed not the truth, but had pleasure in unrighteousness";[8] for if the will comes in promptly to resist the sense of delight, we are free from blame. The pleasure which often follows the suggestion of sin to a faithful soul, while definite, and perhaps even long continued, has its seat in our lower nature, in what spiritual writers call the "inferior will" of which we shall speak presently. So long as it does not capture the higher will, no sin has been committed. A simple illustration will suffice to show what is here meant. One is walking with a companion on the street. Some one appears in sight who {115} has recently wronged him. All the memory of the wrong surges up in the heart instantly, and there comes a sharp suggestion to say some unkind, revengeful thing. The heart responds to the suggestion, and it would be a real pleasure to speak this unloving thought. But, realizing the sin of it, we refrain; we even say to ourselves, "It would be an intense satisfaction to speak, nothing would give me so much pleasure; but I know it is not the will of God, and therefore nothing will induce me to do it." Here is the Satanic suggestion, followed by a definite sense of pleasure therein, and yet so met and disposed of that no sin, but rather the blessing of a victory, results. And this victory is more to God's honour than it would have been had we rejected the temptation with disgust, having found no sort of pleasure in it. When we found pleasure in it, but refused it, there was a greater victory over self and Satan. III. _The "Inferior" and "Superior" Wills_ The existence of the two operations of will in man is proved from Holy Scripture. St. Paul, writing to the Roman Christians, lifts the veil from his own spiritual experience and shows us how they operated in him. His experience we all recognize as our own. {116} "I find then a law," he says, "that when I would do good"--that is when I will to do good,--"evil is present with me. For I delight in the law of God after the inner man, but I see another law in my members warring against the law of my mind and bringing me into captivity to the law of sin which is in my members."[9] It is well before going further to inquire what is this "inferior will" that manifests itself in the great Saints, as well as in us sinners, and in which this delight at the thought of sin is said to have its place. How is it to be distinguished from the higher will, which, while acknowledging the sense of pleasure, yet refuses to yield to it? And what relation have these two wills to the act of consent, which constitutes the sin? Let us find the answer to our question in one of the best of spiritual masters, the author of "The Spiritual Combat": "Although we may be said in this combat to have within us two wills, the one of the reason, which is thence called reasonable and higher, the other of the senses, thence called sensual and lower, and commonly described by the words 'appetite,' 'flesh,' 'sense,' and 'passion'; yet as it is through the reason that we are men, we cannot truly be said to will anything which is willed {117} by the senses, unless we are inclined thereto by the higher will. "And herein does our spiritual conflict principally consist. The reasonable will being placed, as it were, midway between the Divine Will which is above it, and the inferior will or the will of the senses, which is beneath it, is continually warring against both, each seeking in turn to draw it, and bring it under obedience."[10] {118} It is the inferior will that runs forward with delight to act upon Satan's suggestion; it is the higher will that checks this precipitation and says, "I know it is not the will of God, and therefore nothing will induce me to do it." This higher will is what is commonly meant when we speak of the human will being conformed to, or arrayed against, the Divine Will. It has to act before man becomes responsible.[11] It is this higher will that enjoys its freedom, and therefore constitutes in us a part of the {119} divine image. There is no power that can compel it until, by its own free action, it yields itself to that power. God, reverencing His image, as He sees it in us, will not force a reluctant will to serve Him; and Satan cannot.[12] Scupoli says again: "God has, in truth, endowed our will with such freedom and such strength, that were all the senses, all the evil spirits, nay, the whole world itself, to arm and conspire against her, assaulting and oppressing her with all their might, she could still, in spite of them, will or not will, most freely all that she wills or wills not, and that how often soever, whensoever, howsoever, and to what end soever, best pleases her."[13] {120} It is on these grounds that the "superior will" has been called the "Royal Faculty," because like a king it sits enthroned over all other faculties, guiding and ruling them. No matter what dispositions we may have, they are inoperative until the will commands; and according as the will dictates, so is our whole life. We, and all that pertains to us, are good or bad according as the will operates for good or evil. Let us understand clearly, however, what is meant by the freedom of the human will, lest we fall into error. As we have seen, the will is indeed free. Satan cannot force it; God will not. But this does not mean that the will is free to stand alone. It means simply that the _will is free to choose_. Man was made for service. It has been said that the dream of mankind has ever been of liberty, but the one practical question that faces us every moment from the cradle to the grave is, Whom shall I serve? Furthermore, there are but two alternatives of service,--God or Satan. Man, from his very nature, cannot choose to serve himself. Brought down to its final analysis, all service is that of God or Satan, heaven or hell. Nor is man and his life, so organized that the will can choose once for all, and have done with it. We may choose once for all, but that same {121} choice must every day and hour be repeated and ratified, else it will not stand.[14] It is a thought that must give us pause, that in every waking moment of our lives, consciously or unconsciously, explicitly or implicitly, the will is choosing, and that each several choice is making for our eternal weal or our eternal woe; is gathering material for an immortal crown, or for our accusation and possible condemnation at the end. Nor is it possible, as we have just seen, for the will to refrain from choosing. It is free to choose what it will, but choose it must. Some have thought it possible to stand neutral, but not so. "Not to choose is to choose amiss." Not to choose the service of God is to choose the service of Satan. The will, like our other faculties, does most readily that which it is accustomed to do. The law of habit holds good here as elsewhere, and habit is mostly acquired by the repeated performance of little acts. We do not ordinarily perform great deeds of love as a means of training; {122} rather do we perform them because we are already trained. Some great act of love may confirm the will in its tendency Godward, but it is not in high and lofty things that we are to seek our training. Therefore in training the will so that it may acquire the habit of spontaneously choosing God in all things, it must be taught to acquiesce constantly in the little hourly leadings towards Him. If we make a habit of consenting to another person, after a time it is difficult to refuse consent. This holds equally good with the sweet and happy rule of the Holy Spirit when we have aligned our wills with His, and with the horrid slavery of hell when we have committed our wills to Satan. In fitting the will for the great warfare, it must be taught little by little, in numberless minor things, to consent to God's Will. So after a time the habit will be formed; God's Voice will become the signal for prompt action, and the voice of Satan will be as the voice of a stranger whom the will, like the sheep in the parable, will not follow. Surely then it will be worthy to be called the Royal Faculty, for as a king indeed will it reign, one with the Will of Him Who is the King of kings. {123} IV. _The Fatal Consent_ We see that there is no power that can compel the will, unless it be that the will has, by its own act, delivered itself to be bound by Satan. This brings us to the third stage--Consent. The suggestion to evil may be strong, the pleasure that follows may be keen; and yet there is no sin until the will has yielded consent; until its denial, its hesitation, have been beaten down, and it has cried, "I yield." It is around this point that the conflict centres. The suggestion may count for nothing; it is often but a random shot that the enemy fires on the chance of striking a vital point, "just as a besieging army sends rockets here and there into a city to try for the powder magazines."[15] The pleasure that follows, great as it may be, is not in itself sinful, and may be the occasion of greater merit and grace to the soul that feels it and, instead of yielding, beats it down ruthlessly. But if Satan can induce the will to give consent, the deed is done, the evil has entered, and, in proportion to the seriousness of the matter, the divine love is quenched, and the power of the devil quickened and strengthened. A distinction, too, must be made between {124} deliberate and indeliberate consent. St. Francis de Sales refers to what he calls inclinations to sin,[16] when the mind, not being thoroughly aroused, may amuse itself for some time with a thought or imagination, without reflecting that it is a temptation to sin. Father Augustine Baker says likewise, "The simple passing of such thoughts or imaginations in the mind is no sin at all, though they should rest there never so long without advertence, but only the giving of deliberate consent to them"; and to constitute this deliberate consent he requires that the mind must be "fully awake,"--that is, to the fact that these were of the nature of sin,--"and had reflected on them."[17] Our only hope lies in a stubborn refusal of consent. Our safety lies in fixing the will on this one thing. Never mind how fiercely the enemy may assault. He may deliver charge after charge with a rapidity that bewilders the soul, and makes it grow sick and dizzy. We may seem to be beaten down under his feet, and all the storms and billows of a fierce and terrible temptation may sweep over us, and yet so long as from the {125} midst of the confusion we cry, "I will it not," the soul is safe.[18] The refusal of consent should be instant upon the first consciousness of temptation. It is of great peril to dally even for a moment with the sinful suggestion. Not only does it encourage the tempter on the one hand, and weaken our powers of resistance on the other, but deliberate dallying with evil is a sin in itself. It means that an outpost has been surrendered, and even though in the end we reject the main suggestion, yet we have by no means come off unscathed. We are less capable of resisting the next attack than we were before; for "the imagination of sin, the {126} dallying with it, the indulgence of the senses, short of what the soul must own to itself to be a grave fall, steeps and drags the soul more thoroughly in sin, immerses it in a thicker and more blinding mist, interpenetrates more the whole moral texture of the soul with evil, than, at an earlier stage, does the actual sin itself."[19] It is not always, however, with confusion and noise of battle that Satan seeks to force our consent. Often the hardest temptations to endure are those in which he comes very gently, and with long continued pressure seeks to weary, and discourage, and break down the will. It is a fatal error into which scrupulous souls are not infrequently led, to think that the long continuance of the suggestion, or even of the delight with which our lower nature responds, constitutes consent. The devils have a mysterious power, allowed them by God, of holding a temptation before the soul continuously or repeatedly, and we are often as powerless to put it away as we are to refuse to see an object which is actually reflected on the retina of the eye. How many times have loving hearts that would choose death a thousand times rather than dishonour our Lord become sick with terror when in the midst of such prolonged temptation there {127} comes a dread whisper within, "You have consented, though you knew it not." It is the voice of the tempter, and the ruse is a favourite one in his warfare against the soul, for he knows that for us to think we have sinned is almost as fatal in its effects on the _morale_ of the soul as to have actually yielded consent. So when the lying whisper comes, let us cry out against him, charge him with his lie; and then turning swiftly to our Lord, renew our allegiance to Him with such strong, passionate acts of love, that the evil spirit, filled with despair, will take his flight, departing from us "for a season." [1] S. Greg. Mag., _Regulae Pastoralis_, III, xxx. See also the opening paragraph of Dr. Pusey's sermon on "Victory over Besetting Sin," _Parochial Sermons_, Vol. II. [2] _Imitation_, I, xiii. [3] 1 Cor. x, 13. [4] "Our trial, by God's appointment and mercy, lies mostly in some few things. We bring trials upon ourselves which God did not intend for us. We increase manifoldly our own trials by every consent to sin."--Pusey, _Parochial Sermons_, Vol. II, p. 121. [5] "Past sin involves present trial, not present sin. When a man has once turned to God his past sin will not be imputed to him either in itself, _or in its effects_. One who has given way would by God's just appointment, visiting for sin, have trials. He need not, if he wills not by God's grace, have sin." _Ibid._, p. 335. [6] _Ibid._, p. 334. [7] _Ibid._, p. 338. [8] 2 Thess. ii, 12. [9] Rom. vii, 21-23. [10] Scupoli, _The Spiritual Combat_ (Pusey's Trans.), chap. xii. St. Francis de Sales, in a letter to the Mère de Chastel, has a delightfully characteristic passage, full of paternal tenderness combined with playful and reverent humour, in which he sets forth the mode of action of the two wills. "Indeed, my dear daughter Marie," he writes, "you say truly that there are two beings in you. The one is a Marie who, like St. Peter, is tender, sensitive, ready to be irritated by a touch. This Marie is a daughter of Eve, and so her temper is frail. The other Marie wills to be wholly God's; and in order so to be, she wills in all simplicity to be humble and gentle towards everyone, and she would fain imitate St. Peter after he was converted. This Marie is the child of the Blessed Virgin. These two diverse Maries come into collision, and the bad one is so bad that often the other scarce knows how to defend herself, and then perforce she fancies herself beaten, and believes the bad Marie to be stronger. But not so, my poor, dear child; the bad one is not stronger than you. She is more perverse, more enterprising, more obstinate, and when you lose heart and sit down to cry, she is pleased because it is so much time lost for you; and if she cannot make you lose eternity, at all events she will try to make you lose time. My dear daughter, rouse your courage ... be watchful of your enemy; tread cautiously for fear of the foe; if you are not on your guard against her she will be too much for you. Even if she should take you by surprise, and make you totter, or give you a slight wound, do not be put out.... Now do not be ashamed of all this, my daughter, any more than St. Paul was when he confessed that there were two beings in him, one rebellious against God, the other obedient to Him."--St. Francis de Sales, _Spiritual Letters_, lvii. [11] "It is impossible," says the Abbot Moses, "for the mind not to be approached by thoughts, but it is in the power of every earnest man either to admit them or reject them. Their rising does not depend upon ourselves, but their admission or rejection is in our own power.... The movement of the mind may well be illustrated by the comparison of a mill-wheel. The headlong rush of water whirls it round, and it can never stop its work so long as it is driven by the water. Yet it is in the power of the man who directs it to decide whether he will have wheat, or barley, or darnel ground by it. For it must certainly crush that which the man in charge of it puts in. So the mind is driven by the torrents of temptation which pour in on it from every side and cannot be free from the flow of thoughts, but we control the character of the thoughts by the efforts of our own earnestness."--Cassian, _Conferences_, I, 17, 18. [12] "The power of divine grace, like that of the Adversary, is impulsive, not compulsive, that the free power of our will may be entirely preserved. Wherefore, for the evil things which a man does by the influence of Satan, it is not Satan that receives the punishment, but the man himself; forasmuch as he was not involuntarily forced into those things, but was consenting in his own will. In the same manner also with respect to what is good, Grace does not ascribe it to itself, but to the man, and it therefore assigns to him glory, as the cause of good to himself. For grace does not so constrain by compulsive force as to render a man's will incapable of altering; but though it be present to him, it gives way to his free and arbitrary power, that his will may be manifested how it is disposed to good or to evil. For the law is not applied to our nature, but to our free-will, which is able to convert itself either to good or to evil."--Macarius, _Institutes of Christian Perfection_, Bk. VII, chap. iii. (Penn's Trans., London, 1816.) [13] Scupoli, _The Spiritual Combat_, chap. xiv. [14] "I shall fulfil Thy Will if, for Thy Love, I contradict my own, which Thou wilt not in any way constrain, but dost leave it perfectly free that I, _by voluntarily and constantly subjecting it to Thine_, may become dearer and more full in Thy sight."--St. Catherine of Siena, _Dialogue on Consummated Perfection_, in Drane's History of St. Catherine, Vol. II, p. 348. [15] Faber, _Growth in Holiness_, chap. xvi. [16] St. Francis de Sales, _Spiritual Letters_, cxiv. [17] Baker, _Sancta Sophia_, pp. 284-286. See also Hilton, _The Scale of Perfection_, Bk. 2, Sec. 1, chap. viii. [18] Using anger as an illustration, Father Baker enters into a detailed description of what may happen, and yet the soul be free from sin. Perhaps there is not one of us who can read the following words without a sense of deep gratitude and relief concerning not infrequent experiences of our own. He says: "A person being moved to anger, though he find an unquiet representation in the imagination, and a violent heat and motions about the heart, as likewise an aversion in sensitive nature against the person that hath given the provocation; yet if, notwithstanding, he refrains himself from breaking forth into words of impatience to which his passion would urge him, and withal contradicts designs of revenge suggested by passion, such an one, practicing internal prayer and mortification, is to esteem himself not to have consented to the motions of corrupt nature, although besides the inward motion of the appetite [i.e., the inferior will], he could not hinder marks of his passion from appearing in his eyes and the colour of his countenance."--_Sancta Sophia_, pp. 237-238. [19] Pusey, _Lenten Sermons_, p. 264. {128} CHAPTER IX IN THE HOUR OF BATTLE "Like as the children of Ephraim, who being harnessed and bearing bows, turned themselves back in the day of battle."[1] Thus does the Psalmist recall a day of shame and humiliation in the history of God's people. Well prepared for the battle, with every hope of victory before them, the children of Ephraim failed in the hour when they faced the enemy. Thus has it been with many souls in the spiritual warfare. We may be forewarned, we may be armed with the manifold gifts of the Spirit, and yet fail, for the preparation is not everything. When in the actual presence of the foe, the soul must smite boldly and well. The weapons God supplies must be used. Not to use a grace is to lose a grace. I. _Realizing God's Friendship_ It is easy to find theories of opposing temptation; but often hard to apply them in the actual {129} moment of the assault. The cause lies in the fact that we do not realize our relation to God. God is our friend; and we must think of Him in the ordinary terms of earthly friendship. The Eternal Son came to earth and was Incarnate, just in order that we might find in Him an earthly relation, by means of and through which we might be able to rise up to the heavenly friendship. So far as mere intellectual knowledge is concerned, we know quite well what we are to Him, and yet so dull is our appreciation of it that it is only with painful care that we are able to keep from mortally offending this good God. We should have slight regard for an earthly friendship that rested on so precarious a foundation. When shall we come to that blessed time when our friendship with God will be as spontaneous in its action, and as free from peril of violation at our hands, as the friendships we enjoy with those fellow-mortals whose hearts are knit up with ours in loving earthly friendship! Before we go on to consider definitely the methods we may profitably employ when the battle is actually upon us, let us use an illustration that may help us to grasp very practically just what our relationship is to God. You know a man whom you look up to with profound regard and reverence. Not only this, {130} but his unfailing goodness to you under many and various conditions has claimed and won your deepest love and gratitude. This man has an enemy, a despicable character, universally known to be devoid of every sentiment of common decency and honour, who has for years scrupled at no means, even the foulest and most contemptible, to injure the object of his hate. You know these facts to be true, and have yourself had the misfortune to have many dealings with him, and have always found that his actions justify the low opinion that all right-thinking men have of him. One day this creature has the audacity to approach you, and try deliberately to turn you against your benefactor, and to induce you to consent to something that would be to the dishonour and contempt of the one to whom you owe so much. How long would you listen to him? Do you think you would stop to weigh calmly the arguments for and against his proposition? Or would you not, without a moment's hesitation, turn upon him with indignation, and drive the contemptible creature from your presence, with a sense of loathing, almost of contamination, that you had been made to listen to such a suggestion? We do not have to go far to find a key to the parable. The benefactor whom we regard with {131} so deep a reverence is our loving heavenly Father, who has claimed and won our love through the goodness and mercy with which He has followed us all the days of our life. The enemy whose age-long efforts have ever been for His dishonour is the devil, who seeks to make us the instrument by which he would dishonour God. When illustrated thus, the audacity of the tempter, and the insulting character of every temptation, are made plain. This simple parable will surely enable us to grasp the relations between God and ourselves and Satan, and with this realization fresh upon us, we can go on to consider some of the special methods we may use to overcome God's enemy and ours. II. _The Divine Example of Humility_ It is interesting to note that when our Lord was assailed in the wilderness by the Tempter, His method of resistance was to turn immediately to the consideration of His Father's word. He did not address Himself to the pros and cons of the Satanic suggestion. He inflicts instant and crushing defeat upon His adversary by turning His attention, not to the character of the temptation, but straight to the will of the Father. {132} In this our Lord showed by His action what He afterward taught concerning Himself when He said, "I can of Mine own self do nothing."[2] His first act in His temptation was to declare His entire dependence on His Father. So, if in our temptations, we would share His victory, our method of battle must follow His. The tempted soul must fling itself instantly upon God in the humblest acknowledgment of dependence. Much of our failure in the conflict arises from a forgetfulness of this. How often does the very dread of the sin so agitate the soul that instead of turning to God, we stand, as it were, fascinated by the horror of the suggestion, losing precious moments that should be devoted to flinging open all the channels of communication with God, that His own strength may flow into us for the battle. This course of defence is effective in two ways. (1) First, as regards God. Nothing can so completely open the channels of communication with Him as an utter abandon of humility in His presence. Scripture is full of the divine teaching on this point. The Holy Spirit declares by the great Prophet of the Incarnation, "Thus saith the high and lofty One that inhabiteth eternity, whose name is Holy, I dwell in the high {133} and lofty place with him also that is of a contrite and humble spirit to revive the spirit of the humble."[3] St. James declares, "God resisteth the proud, but giveth grace to the humble;"[4] and St. Peter, repeating the same teaching, adds this exhortation, "Humble yourselves therefore under the mighty hand of God that He may exalt you in due time."[5] (2) But not only does this self-abasement in the first moment of temptation bring down new power from God for the struggle, but it has a direct and disastrous effect on Satan. Nothing so completely bewilders him as self-humiliation. He, the very personification of pride, cannot understand how a soul can for a moment so humble itself. He is puzzled, nonplussed. He knows not how to proceed. He thought he understood us; he had studied our lines of defence, and thought he knew just how to approach and break through them; but this unexpected manoeuvre shatters his plan of battle. Many a soul that, in the approach of temptation, has thus flung itself at the feet of God has, while lying there awaiting the divine word, felt the awful sense of the Satanic presence pass, and the sickening tug of temptation cease. The enemy in the face of a situation so far beyond his power of {134} understanding had made haste to withdraw his attack, lest while thus fighting in the dark he should meet still more humiliating defeat. III. _Instant in Prayer_ The humble soul is always the praying soul. The soul that realizes its dependence will lose no time in calling upon Him on Whom it leans, and this earnest prayer is the weapon in the warfare, without which certain overthrow must ensue. As in the case of humbling ourselves, the use of this weapon is to be considered in its relation both to God and to Satan. (1) Its relation to God. We know that prayer for help must of necessity bring help, because the divine promise is given and repeated a hundred times in Holy Scripture, that the Lord will hear us in the day of trouble.[6] It is needless to multiply texts. One word of God the Eternal Son suffices, "And shall not God avenge His own elect which cry day and night unto Him, though He bear long with them? I tell you He will avenge them speedily."[7] Impossible as it may seem, the prayer of the humble heart can command the very Godhead. {135} Ascending to the throne of grace in union with the intercession of Christ, the cry of the hard-pressed child of God has power to liberate the divine Omnipotence, and set in motion all the infinite energies of the kingdom which come forth in their unconquerable might to wage war on our behalf. This power that the praying soul has over God (we dare use such an expression with entire freedom) is one of the mysteries of our union with Him, and since He has given us so repeated a revelation of it, we can expect nothing of Him if we neglect it. One or two Scripture passages will make this clear to us. When Israel rebelled and Moses prayed for them, God's answer was, "Now therefore let me alone that my wrath may wax hot against them."[8] Why should the Omnipotent One have spoken thus since none is able to hinder Him or bind His hands? The Holy Ghost, speaking by the Psalmist ages after, gives us the meaning when He says: "He said He would have destroyed them had not Moses, His chosen, stood before Him in the gap."[9] The wrath of God was paralysed in the face of the prayer of the Saint. Isaiah, sounding his lament over the lost condition of Israel, says, "There is none that calleth {136} upon Thy name, that stirreth up himself to take hold of thee."[10] The Hebrew tongue affords us no stronger expression than that which the Spirit here inspired the prophet to use. The meaning is, to lay, as it were, violent hands upon God, by means of prayer, and with a holy audacity to hold Him back from launching the thunderbolt of His wrath against the apostate nation. The expression "stirreth up himself" indicates by a bold rhetorical stroke the power which the prophet knew such a one would have if he could be found among the sons of Israel. When used in the Old Testament it invariably implies the arousing of some mighty force, which when once awakened would sweep all before it, as when Balaam prophesied concerning Israel, "He couched, he lay down as a lion, as a great lion; who shall stir him up?"[11] Thus in the power of prayer shall we be able to sweep all before us, if in the hour of temptation we pray with a like holy audacity. (2) But not only does prayer in the hour of temptation call the power of God to our succour, but the bare fact that we pray at such a time completely overreaches Satan. The primary reason {137} of his temptation is to draw us away from God. If the invariable result of temptation is thus to draw us the more surely and closely to His feet in prayer, the tempter will not be slow to realize that he is being used as the instrument, and his assault as the occasion, of accomplishing this very thing that his labour is directed against. When he realizes this, baffled and discouraged, he will have no alternative but to withdraw. We must say a word about ejaculatory prayer, for in the hour of temptation this method of prayer is to be our chief source of strength. Most frequently, perhaps, in temptation there is no time or occasion for formal prayer. Our appeal to God in such times must be instant. These prayers of ejaculation have been described as "short, sharp, and swift darts [Latin, jaculum, a dart], and desires, shot by our burning hearts, and reaching heaven in an instant. Our forefathers, the Saints, frequently used them, for being short, they trouble not the memory; being fervent, they rouse our dulness and dryness to affection and devotion; being frequent, they still renew our attention to God's presence, and put us perpetually in mind of our duties."[12] To this, it may be added that ejaculatory {138} prayer is apt to be a measurably perfect prayer, because, being so quickly finished, the devil has not time to chill its fervour by distractions, such as we invariably suffer from in longer forms of prayer. Even were it so disposed, the average mind cannot act with sufficient quickness to perceive the distraction ere the prayer be finished. Those who study God's word piously will find numberless prayers in the very language of the Holy Ghost, which will be most effective in the moment of danger. The briefer these are, the better. The Psalter is full of them, and there is no better military exercise for the Christian soldier than to spend his time when not actually in battle, in learning as many of them as possible by heart, so that they may be ready at hand when the battle begins. Short, quick prayers like the following will be found of great profit: "O Lord, my God, in Thee have I put my trust; save me from all them that persecute me, and deliver me."[13] "Save, Lord, and hear us, O King of Heaven."[14] "Save me, O God, for Thy Name's sake, and avenge me in Thy strength."[15] "Have mercy upon me, O God, after Thy great goodness."[16] {139} "Lord, he whom Thou lovest is sick."[17] "Like as the hart desireth the water-brooks, so longeth my soul after Thee, O Lord."[18] "Why art thou so heavy, O my soul, and why art thou so disquieted within me? O put thy trust in God, for I will yet give Him thanks which is the help of my countenance and my God."[19] "O God, Thou art my God, early will I seek Thee."[20] "Thou, Lord, art my hope."[21] "O help us against the enemy, for vain is the help of man."[22] "Out of the deep have I called unto Thee, O Lord; Lord, hear my voice."[23] We need not multiply instances of these prayers. Let each one take the Psalter, the Gospels, and other parts of Scripture, and go over them for himself, copying them out, committing them to memory in quiet times, thus filling his quiver full of heaven-tempered darts, the use of which in time of stress will surely put to flight the audacious enemy. It is well to remember in the use of prayer in the moment of temptation, that the mind must be wholly set upon God. There is real danger {140} in trying to pray while at the same time our thoughts are upon the special form of temptation that is being presented. Turn your back upon it, and cry to God. Think only of Him, His goodness, His loving protection. The diversion of the mind alone is a victory over the tempter; and where it is turned from him, and set upon strong and holy appeals and aspirations, it is not possible but that the enemy will be driven utterly from our path. IV. _A Holy Perversity_ Another effective method of resistance is to make a rule of doing, in a definite and precise way, and instantly if possible, just the contrary of what Satan is seeking to induce us to do. For instance, he insinuates into our minds some bitter, resentful, and uncharitable thought. We know the thought is evil, and we abhor it accordingly, nor do we give any sort of consent to its presence; but still it is not easy to crush. Perhaps it is a revival of some old bitterness in regard to a real wrong done us long ago. We fight hard against it, and thus save ourselves from sin; but how much shall we add to Satan's discomfiture, how shall we indeed crown our victory, if, instead of expending our energy in the merely negative {141} work of refusing admittance to our hearts of an unloving thought, we proceed to do or say some loving thing; or at any rate offer a resolution instantly to God to watch for an opportunity, and, if need be, to go out of our way, to perform some act of kindness before the day is over. Or in case of temptation to pride, personal vanity or self-assertion, to perform some little act of meekness; or when the temptation is to some form of self-indulgence or selfishness, deliberately to do some unselfish thing, preferring for our greater self-denial something that naturally we should not care to do. A simple illustration will show how discouraging such a course will be to the tempter. Suppose whenever you had occasion to ask a certain acquaintance to do something for you, instead of complying with your request, he did just the contrary thing, and that with a precision and regularity that gave evidence of a deliberate plan and policy. Suppose again that this contrary thing was the very act that he knew was most displeasing to you. How long would you persist in your applications to him? Surely, not for long. So will it be with Satan. He is far too intelligent a creature, and knows and serves his own interests all too faithfully, to continue his efforts long under such conditions. {142} V. _Scorning the Tempter_ A most excellent method, which can often, though not always, be applied, is that of ignoring the tempter. It is a helpful thing in the Christian warfare to remember always that Satan is the embodiment of pride. Nothing cuts the proud soul so deeply as being ignored. It can endure opposition, even defeat, but the thing that is intolerable is to be taken no account of. So when Satan attacks, in not a few instances, the resistance that to him will be the most cruel will be to go calmly on one's way, ignoring him. As St. Francis de Sales says: "You should not answer, or seem even to hear, what the enemy says. Let him hammer as he will at the door; do not you even say so much as, Who is there?... Beware that you never open the door, either to peep out and see what it is, or to drive away the clamour."[24] An illustration similar to the one employed in our discussion of resisting by doing the thing contrary to the temptation will help us here. Imagine yourself having occasion frequently to apply to a certain person for a service. Imagine such a person deliberately ignoring you whenever you spoke, pretending not to hear you, {143} gazing with feigned absent-mindedness out of the window. Do you think you would long continue your application to such an one? Indeed you would not. Pride, even right-minded self-respect, would forbid it; and you can be sure Satan, acting on the same principle, will soon cease to annoy you when he finds himself the object of so studied a contempt. Since the human mind, however, always demands something upon which to be engaged, we can much more successfully ignore Satan's addresses if we divert the mind by an act of the will into some totally different channel. "Temptations," says Walter Hilton, "vex the soul indeed, but do not harm it, if so be a man despise them and set them at naught; for it is not good to strive with them, as if thou wouldst cast them out by mastery and violence, for the more they strive with them, the more they cleave to them. And therefore they shall do well to divert their thoughts from them as much as they can, and set them upon some business."[25] This diversion of the mind will be all the more effective if it is in the direction of those holy things which Satan abhors. Therefore "let us turn our hearts to converse with God, which is better than to reflect upon our temptations and {144} troubles. Let us be so attentive to Him, that we have neither leave nor leisure to give ear to Satanic suggestions."[26] VI. _Staying not the Hand_ We are told in the Second Book of the Kings[27] that when the prophet Elisha was fallen sick of the sickness whereof he died, Joash, the King of Israel, came unto him. The man of God commanded him to take the arrows and smite upon the ground, whereupon the King, weak in ambition, and with no vision of God's destiny for him as a national deliverer, smote thrice upon the ground and stayed. "And the man of God was wroth with him and said, Thou shouldest have smitten five or six times; then hadst thou smitten Syria till thou hadst consumed it." If he who goes forth to fight for God would utterly consume the enemy, he must seek the vision of His purpose for him, and if he is truly ambitious of heavenly honours it is not far to seek. We can quite safely say that God never predestined any soul barely to win the victory. He plans high things for all his children, but how many are there who never attain them because, like the king of Israel, they are giving Him a {145} spiritless service. They smite thrice with the arrows of deliverance and stay their hand. They are content to remain on a low spiritual plane, within the pale of divine grace indeed, but satisfied with this, and using their further energies for passing earthly things instead of devoting them with a burning splendour of enthusiasm to an ever higher service in the kingdom that shall have no end. How disappointing are such lives to God! He had meant to promote them to great honour, and they have no aspiration above the lowest place. Nor can they plead that they know not His purpose for them. The Scriptural revelation is full of the highest assurances. God lays wide open before us the plan He has prepared for our glory. He tells us in a hundred passages, every utterance eloquent with love, what it all is, and He stays in His description only when the finite mind of man cannot follow Him; and then He cries: "Eye hath not seen nor ear heard, neither have entered into the heart of man, the things which God hath prepared for them that love Him."[28] If we are to rise up to satisfy the divine measure of our predestined glory, we must smite not thrice, but five or six times. We must smite not only {146} until we feel the assault stayed, but until we are sure that the tempter has acknowledged himself defeated. Some spiritual guides advise the soul pursuing the tempter, not allowing him to depart from us without further chastisement and humiliation. "Do not leave off the conflict until the enemy is, as it were, wearied out, dead, and yields himself up discomfited."[29] "When the assaults have ceased," says Scupoli, "excite them again, so as to have an opportunity of overcoming them with greater force and energy. Then challenge them again a third time so as to accustom yourself to repulse them with scorn and horror."[30] Remember, however, as a point of the most extreme importance, that this course should never be adopted in temptations against faith or against purity. In these cases there should be an immediate avoidance of the thought and occasion of the temptation, and the mind should be instantly diverted utterly from it by definite occupation of a contrary nature. VII. _The Final Phase of Victory_ The counsel of the author of "The Spiritual Combat," appeals to us not only as coming from {147} a great guide of souls, but because (as is always the case with the wisdom of the Saints), it answers our sense of the fitness of things. A poor soldier he would be who never planned to fight on the offensive, who never sought to carry the war into the enemy's country. The Blessed Christ has organized the armies of the Kingdom not merely for the protection of a weak and incapable people, but for the positive conquest of Satan through the strength and aggressiveness of His soldiers. In the account of the armour of God as given us by St. Paul,[31] we are, it is true, told of the breast plate, the shield, and the helmet, all armour of defence; but we are also told of the feet shod that the soldier might march straight forward; and of the sword of the Spirit with which we are to slay the adversary. Under the old dispensation, too, the Spirit taught the like truth. In one of the chiefest of the Psalms of consolation,--the 91st,--the soul is spoken of as finding its refuge in the very secret place of the Most High; as being covered with His wings,--shielded from the mysterious terror that walks by night, from the arrow that flies by day; and there is mention of shield and buckler, weapons of defence. But also there is mention of the splendid feats of aggressive conquest that {148} God expects from those to whom He accords His almighty protection. "Thou shalt tread upon the lion and adder; the young lion and the dragon shalt thou trample under feet." The contrast between the earlier part of the Psalm and this sudden promise is startling. Heretofore God and the angels have been the actors prosecuting their work of protection and defence. Now it is as though He said, "I have hid thee in My tabernacle, and now it is _Thou_, the defenced one, who shall tread upon the lion and adder; Thou, and I only as acting in and through thee!"[32] The Hebrew form of expression the Holy Spirit employs presents two powerful word-paintings. When it is said, "Thou shalt _tread_ upon the lion and adder," there is the suggestion of stamping in pieces, of treading one's enemies as grapes are trodden in the wine-press; and where the promise is made, "The young lion and the dragon shalt thou _trample under feet_," the Holy Ghost is lifting up before ancient Israel, in their own language, the picture of the terrible onset of {149} armed horsemen beating down the enemy with ruthless trampling beneath the iron-shod feet of the horses. Thus are the soldiers of God called upon not only to vanquish, but to tread the hosts of hell as grapes are trodden in the vintage; not only to cause them to flee, but to pursue and trample them with terrible strength as victorious horsemen trample down the flying foe. [1] Ps. lxxviii, 10. [2] St. John v, 30. [3] Isa. lvii, 15. [4] St. James iv, 6. [5] 1 Pet. v, 6. [6] Ps. xx, 1. [7] St. Luke xviii, 7-8. [8] Exod. xxxii, 10. [9] Ps. cvi, 23. [10] Isa. lxiv, 7. [11] Numbers xxiv, 9. See also Job xli, 10, and Ps. xxxv, 23, and lxxx, 2. [12] Castaniza, _The Spiritual Conquest_, pp. 405, 406. (Vaughan, 3d Ed.) [13] Ps. vii, 1. [14] Ps. xx, 9. [15] Ps. liv, 1. [16] Ps. li, 1. [17] St. John xi, 3. [18] Ps. xlii, 1. [19] Ps. xliii, 5-6. [20] Ps. lxiii, 1. [21] Ps. xci, 9. [22] Ps. cviii, 12. [23] Ps. cxxx, 1. [24] St. Francis de Sales, _Spiritual Letters_, xi. [25] Hilton, _The Scale of Perfection_, I, Pt. II, Sec. 2, chap. i. [26] Castaniza, The Spiritual Conquest, p. 459. [27] 2 Kings xiii. [28] Cor. ii, 9. [29] Scupoli, _The Spiritual Combat_, chap. xiii. [30] _Ibid._ [31] Eph. vi. [32] Compare Romans xvi, 20: "The God of peace shall bruise Satan under _your_ feet shortly." "The God of peace" goes forth to war, fighting in order to secure that peace whereby His title of "Prince of Peace" is justified; and it is His power that will bruise Satan, but the bruising is to be under _our_ feet. We give ourselves to Him that He may conquer in and through us. {150} CHAPTER X THE TESTS OF VICTORY AND DEFEAT It is all very well to sit down calmly, and consider, as we have done, the stages of temptation, and to draw definite conclusions as to the point at which the temptation passes over into sin. Such principles as these are not hard to discover. In fact, as a general rule it is comparatively easy in any matter to arrive at moral principles. If we cannot think them out for ourselves, any handbook of Christian ethics will give them to us, cut and dried. The real stress and strain in life arises from the difficulty of applying principles to special cases in hand, and it is just this difficulty that is experienced amid the shock of the conflict by many souls, even those who are illuminated by the Holy Ghost. I. _The Test of Common Sense_ What practical tests, therefore, can we bring to bear in order to know whether the will has consented? Before entering upon a discussion of them, we can sum up the whole matter by saying that to everything must be applied the test of common sense. At no time are scruples {151} so apt to intrude themselves as when we seek to apply tests to discover whether or not we have sinned; and no spiritual scruple was ever based on common sense. On the contrary, the cherishing of scruples always points to some positive lack of mental balance. Above all things, we are to be reasonable with ourselves. We shall find with ever so little consideration that the laws which apply to the conditions of our ordinary daily life are the laws that must apply to our spiritual life. There will be no danger of perplexing scruples if we apply the same rules to the inquiry concerning sin as we should apply to a question of ordinary human relations, and as dutiful children we must give our heavenly Father credit for as much loving generosity in His dealings with us as we know would be employed by an earthly parent who had ever showed us a tender and loving consideration. So bearing these things ever in mind, we can proceed to think of the further tests we may apply, to show whether or not we have consented to the devil's temptations. II. _The Test of Doubt_ "If you doubt whether you have consented to evil, always take the doubt as a negative."[1] {152} This is the rule laid down for us by St. Francis de Sales. In it he follows the great spiritual teachers in holding that if sin, especially mortal sin, "is not _more than certain_, you should decide that it does not exist," especially if the conscience is prone to be tender.[2] It is a principle of divine, as well as human law, that a man is to be counted innocent until he is proved guilty.[3] We must give ourselves the benefit of the doubt. This we can do safely, and without scruple, provided we have been ordinarily faithful in the use of the means of spiritual knowledge that God supplies, such as Prayer, Sacraments, etc. We must insist upon this; in the first place, because the nature of the human mind demands it. A thing that the soul really abhors could not possibly find entrance without its certain knowledge. In the second place, because justice requires it. We are bound to exercise justice towards ourselves as well as towards others, and it would be manifestly unjust to regard a man as guilty of a crime so long as the case is involved in reasonable doubt. The third reason why we must acquit ourselves when doubt exists, is that it is a grave danger to the soul to become accustomed to the idea of {153} committing sin. It is a principle of psychology that it is much easier to perform an action when we have grown used to the thought of it. A fourth reason is thus expressed by St. Francis in a letter to the famous Angelique Arnauld, Abbess of Port Royal: "If you accuse your soul without just cause, you spoil its courage, and turn it into a mere coward."[4] It is the Christian's duty by every means to encourage his soul and to do nothing to discourage it. The Psalmist gives us repeated examples of this, as for instance, when he cries, "Why art thou so heavy, O my soul, and why art thou so disquieted within me. Put thy trust in God, for I will yet give him thanks which is the help of my countenance and my God."[5] Discouragement has been called "the temptation of temptations."[6] {154} The soldier would not be tolerated in an army who made it his business to go up and down the lines in the course of the battle discouraging his fellows. We always feel that there is a peculiar meanness about the man who tries to take the heart out of those about him. We must in these spiritual matters, under pain of sin, be as fair to, and as considerate of, our own souls as of the souls of others, for we have no special rights over ourselves in such matters. Our souls are not our own. "All souls are mine,"[7] says God, and we wrong Him when we injure any soul. It does not acquit us to plead, as silly souls are sometimes heard to do, that we are injuring no one but ourselves. In the first place, this is not true. Every hurt we inflict on our souls, every discouragement into which we lead ourselves, is not only a wrong to God, but inflicts a hurt on every soul that is bound up with us in the Communion of Saints. This is just what the Apostle meant when he said, "Whether one member suffer all the members suffer with it."[8] The care and constant strengthening of our own souls is a part of the obligation laid upon {155} us as our brother's keeper;[9] and we know the curse that fell upon Cain not only for his crime of blood, but in punishment for the far greater crime of refusing to recognize the solidarity of humanity, and the duties that arise therefrom. He murdered one man's body, but who can tell how many souls we have been slaying though weakening our own power to help and rescue them in their hour of conflict. Even were it true that we injure none but ourselves by injustice to our souls, we are in this case injuring that which belongs, not to ourselves, but to another, namely to God, and He will let no such wrong go unavenged. Although we are not to accuse ourselves in such cases of doubt, it is well to speak of them to a wise spiritual guide.[10] This will afford us the opportunity of receiving such counsel as will aid us should the particular form of assault be repeated. It is also a discouragement to the enemy to see that his schemes are thus understood and exposed. He loves ever to work in the dark, and it is a matter of common experience that he often abandons a plan of temptation when he finds it {156} has been detected and discussed by those against whom he has been plotting. III. _Signs of the Soul's Victory_ In the course of the struggle there are many circumstances and conditions by which we can test how the battle is going. We shall consider some of these, choosing certain ones which Satan often uses for our discouragement by presenting them to us in a wrong light. It is a favourite device of his to snatch at the very circumstance which a good God, ever tenderly solicitous of our safety, allows for the consolation of His faithful soldiers, and by presenting it from a false point of view, turn it into an occasion of scruple and unnerving anxiety. (1) Continuance and increased severity of attack is proof that the will has not yielded to the temptation. An army does not direct its assaults against an enemy who has already surrendered. So rather than be frightened, we should draw comfort from the fact of continued temptation. "It is a good sign," wrote St. Francis de Sales to Madame de Chantal, "when the enemy storms so lustily at the door; it proves that he is not attaining his end. If he had attained it, he would {157} not clamour any more; he would go in and be satisfied. Keep this in mind so as to avoid scruples."[11] But although Satan's fiercer malignance of attack be a sign that the soul has not yielded, it is far from being the kind of sign that justifies our pausing in the struggle. If the tempter uses renewed energy and fierceness in his assaults, the soul, in order that it may continue in safety, must also employ a corresponding increase of energy in bringing into action the increased grace that the Holy Spirit stands always ready to give to those who ask Him. It is just for this that the Blessed Spirit waits upon and presides over the conflict. "Hence gather we this comfort," writes the saintly Andrewes for our consolation, "that the Holy Ghost is not a stander-by as a stranger when we are tempted, _tanquam otiosus spectator_, but He leads us by the hand, and stands by as a faithful assistant."[12] (2) A sense of fear that we have consented, or at the thought of the possibility of consenting, is an excellent indication that we are, as yet, free from the sin to which we are being tempted. He who has actually entered into the sin and made it his own by a deliberate operation of his will, {158} has not ordinarily the attitude of fear towards his sin. The act of consent brings a certain complacency with respect to the sin, and a blindness of spiritual vision, which leaves no room for fear, and which is only disturbed by penitence. "You will not yield to the temptations which you know and fear; for the fear of falling is one of the best gifts of the Holy Spirit. Through that holy fear He arms His servants against danger, and teaches them how to conquer themselves.... If you had no fear I should fear for you.... Fear then, and let your holy fear be lifelong. 'Blessed is the man that feareth always.' But keep that fear within due limits, so that you do not become discouraged and forsake your work; let it rather move you to renewed hope, and more earnest watchfulness, self-mistrust, and confidence in God."[13] (3) Grief at the temptation implies, of necessity, that the will is still in a state of opposition to the suggestion. "So long as you are grieved at the temptation, there is nothing to fear, for why does it grieve you save because your will does not consent to it?"[14] A glance at the nature of grief shows this to be true. Grief is {159} the emotion that arises when we are forced to suffer that which is contrary to the will.[15] On the other hand, the absence of grief should rouse us to inquire if our souls be not in a dangerous state of tepidity. If one were seriously to suggest our doing something that would be a marked dishonour to an earthly friend and benefactor, there would be an almost immediate sense of shock and grief that we should be thought capable of such baseness. There would, in all likelihood, be a sense of disappointment with ourselves that we had given so poor a testimony of our love and loyalty that anyone could think it possible for us to be thus untrue to our friend. So, along with the grief at the presence of the temptation let us make sure that there be a very deep searching of heart to find what there is in our life to encourage the tempter to think we would be untrue to a Father who has loved us with an everlasting love,[16] and whose tender compassions are renewed to us every morning.[17] (4) A consciousness of the existence of temptation is generally a sign that the will has not wholly, at any rate, yielded consent. {160} The entrance of sin into the soul by consent marks the cessation of struggle, and therefore, when there is still a clear sense of struggle, we are to conclude that as the temptation is still going on we have not yet given full consent. Dom Baker assures us that "A well-minded soul may conclude that there is in the will a refusal to consent to the suggestion, even in the midst of the greatest disorder thereof, _whilst the combat does not cease_."[18] Those who are wholly unconscious of temptation are too often those who have yielded to the tempter, and he troubles them no more. Those who still feel the pressure of his enmity can thank God and take courage that the devil still counts them worthy of his antagonism. Says Walter Hilton: "The soul needeth to be ever striving and fighting against the wicked striving of this image of sin, and that he make no accord with them, nor have friendship with them to be pliable to their unlawful biddings, for in so doing he beguileth himself. But verily if he strive with them, he need not be much afraid of consenting, for striving breaketh peace and false accord."[19] {161} IV. _Spiritual Safety, Spiritual Victory_ The reader will observe that although we are speaking of the soul being kept from the power of Satan, yet the heading of the foregoing section speaks of the signs, not of the soul's _safety_, but of the soul's _victory_. There is a significance in this choice of words, for in the spiritual combat the soul that is safe is indeed victorious. Herein lies one of the radical differences between the spiritual warfare and any other. In the world's wars an army may be safe from defeat and capture, and yet be far from victorious. But in the spiritual life, to be safe is to be the victor. There are no drawn battles in this warfare. Once the soul has been enlisted in God's army, once it has been signed, and sealed, and has put on the whole armour of God, thenceforth to be safe is to be victorious, not to be conquered is to conquer Satan. So we may seem to be making but little progress, but if we hold fast that which we have no man can take our crown. This is made quite clear to us in the message of the Spirit to the Seven Churches of Asia.[20] The Church at that time was hard-pressed. The fires of persecution were burning out the dross, and purifying her over against the coming {162} of the Lord. It was a time for longsuffering, for patient waiting until the arm of the Lord should be bared to avenge her of her adversaries. So the Spirit speaks not of Pentecostal achievements; there is no mention of mighty triumphs that the world could see and applaud. It was a patient waiting, finding her strength in sitting still.[21] What is it under these conditions that God requires? No aggressive plan of advance is outlined; only a patient faithfulness wherein would lie victory and reward. Examine them one by one. Ephesus receives praise of God because "Thou hast borne and hast had patience." Smyrna is only to "Fear none of those things that thou shalt suffer." Pergamos is praised, because "Thou boldest fast My name, and has not denied My faith." To Thyatira it is said, "That which ye have already, hold fast till I come." Sardis has lost somewhat of the heavenly gift, but she will yet be safe if she will but "Strengthen the things that remain." Philadelphia is accounted worthy of great promises because "Thou hast a little strength, and hast kept My word and hast not denied My name." Nor has Laodicea, "neither hot nor cold," over whom the curse is suspended, great things demanded of her. It is only, "Be zealous therefore {163} and repent." Let her only undo her evil and she, too, will have the blessing. From none of these are great things asked. If they will but hold fast, and in the power of the Spirit let not Satan have the advantage, the grace of God within them will so operate of its own inherent force and activity that each will be counted among those that overcome, and will receive the gracious reward promised to those who are worthy to be ranked among the victors in the Kingdom. What strong consolation is here! What proof of the love and compassion of our God! Only yield not to Satan, hold fast that which thou hast, and thine shall be a share in the glory of the victorious Son of God. V. _The Truest Test_ We have considered briefly some of the tests by which we may try ourselves in the battle, but, after all, is it best to engage ourselves in the application of any tests? There are indeed certain strong, God-reliant souls who are not content unless they can thus test themselves. If they believe the Holy Spirit is leading them to this, well and good. Let them follow such a divine call wherever it may take them, for the leading of the Spirit can never be other than a {164} leading of perfect wisdom and perfect love. But doubtless for most of us who desire to serve God in true simplicity, it is far better to place our whole trust in Him, do what we can, lean in childlike faith upon His great love, and not seek to measure our progress on the way. Such tests may help many, but they should be strictly avoided if they lead to introspection and self-analysis, those deadly foes of true devotion; above all, if they lead to self-satisfaction and pride. If the application of these tests produces mental doubt, distress, and scruple, or vain complacency, take it as a distinct warning from God to let them alone, for in souls of this temperament any such testing of self will cause them to fall by the wayside, or else to fix their eyes so earnestly on the road they are treading that they will lose sight of Him Who is at once their Guide and their Goal. "Let us love Him," says one who knew the love of God very deeply, "without striving to inquire too inquisitively what we are doing for love's sake, so long as we know that our aim is to do all things in and through that love."[22] Yes, our safety is to keep the love of God warm in our hearts. If this be done, nothing else matters. If we can say, or even have an earnest, {165} honest desire to say, with the pilgrim in Hilton's parable, "I am naught, I can do naught, I have naught, and naught do I desire to have, but only Jesus and His love,"[23] this will be the highest test of our spiritual progress; and this love of God increases most when not held down by formal tests and methods. Says St. Bernard, "_Modus diligendi Deum, est diligere sine modo_"; which saying Augustine Baker beautifully paraphrases: "The measure and manner of loving God is to love Him immeasurably and freely, without a prescribed manner."[24] [1] _Spirit of St. Francis de Sales_, chap. xii. [2] Gaume, _Manual for Confessors_ (Pusey Translation), p. 179. [3] Gury, _Compend. Theol. Moral._, II, pp. 278-279. [4] St. Francis de Sales, _Spiritual Letters_, cxiv. [5] Ps. xliii, 5-6. [6] St. Francis de Sales, _Letters to Persons in Religion_, p. 141 (Mackey Trans.). This same Saint warns us against discouragement that enters under the guise of humility. Speaking of the virtue of self-mistrust he says: "Your mistrust of self is good, so long as it is the groundwork of confidence in God; but if it ever should lead you to being discouraged, disturbed, vexed, or melancholy, then I entreat you, reject it as the greatest possible temptation, and do not allow your mind to argue or dally with the anxiety or depression to which you are disposed. It is a simple and certain truth that God permits those who seek to serve Him to encounter many difficulties, but also that He never leaves them to sink under the burthen so long as they trust in Him. The great thing you must heed is never to let your mind argue in favour of the temptation to be discouraged, under any pretext whatever, not even under the plausible pretext of humility."--_Spiritual Letters_, cii (Lear Edition). [7] Ezek. xviii, 4. [8] 1 Cor. xii, 26. [9] Gen. iv, 9. [10] For conditions under which doubtful sins should be mentioned in confession, see Lehmkuhl, II, 317. [11] St. Francis de Sales, _Spiritual Letters_, xi. [12] Andrewes, _Sermons_, Vol. V, p. 499. [13] Gaume, _Manual for Confessors_ (Pusey Trans.), p. 90. [14] St. Francis de Sales, _Spiritual Letters_, xiii. [15] Speaking of certain temptations which result from past faults of our own, Dr. Pusey says, "They are suffering, not sin; nay, so long as they are suffering they are not sin."--_Parochial Sermons_, II, 334. [16] Jer. xxxi, 3. [17] Lam. iii, 22, 23. [18] Baker, _Sancta Sophia_, p. 237. [19] Hilton, _The Scale of Perfection_, Bk. II, Pt. 2, chap. iv. [20] Rev. ii and iii. [21] Isa. xxx, 7. [22] St. Francis de Sales, _Spiritual Letters_, xxxvii. [23] Hilton, _The Scale of Perfection_, Bk. II, Sec. 1, chap. viii. [24] Baker, _Sancta Sophia_, p. 413. {166} CHAPTER XI THE SCHOOL OF THE HOLY GHOST One of the most precious promises in Holy Scripture which is repeatedly made to the faithful is that they shall be taught of God. "Them that are meek shall He guide in judgment, and such as are gentle them shall He learn His way."[1] "I will inform thee, and teach thee in the way wherein thou shalt go; and I will guide thee with Mine eye."[2] "All thy children shall be taught of the Lord";[3] "The Comforter, which is the Holy Ghost, whom the Father will send in my name, He shall teach you all things";[4] "He will guide you into all truth."[5] I. _The Teaching of Temptation_ One of the chief courses of instruction in the School of the Holy Spirit is that of temptation. Victory over Satan is a very glorious achievement, but it is only half, and so far as our earthly life is affected, the smaller half, of God's purpose in sending and permitting temptation. He means {167} us in every battle to gain a knowledge of self, a knowledge of our weak points, that realizing them our wills may be incited to co-operate with His to re-enforce them.[6] (1) One of the first lessons it is needful for us to learn is that when great difficulty is experienced in resisting a temptation we are to regard the point of this particular assault as one that requires strengthening. How wonderfully does the divine wisdom force Satan himself to be our instructor and, in permitting him to buffet us, compel him to proceed according to a principle which teaches the soul its own needs, and so turns to his own undoing, and to the profit of the one who is tempted. Even when, for the time being, he gains a victory, the same principle holds good. After true penitence has come to make good the breach, how much has the soul learned, how sensitive it is at that particular point, how alert to perceive any renewed attack, how full of a holy desperation that the same disaster come not again. Satan's desire is to keep us in ignorance of our {168} weakness, and he would persuade the sinner that his relation with God is at all points what it ought to be. Then, having soothed the soul with the opiate of deception, he would bind us hand and foot. But whatever he may be able to do with those who have submitted themselves to his unholy will, God will not have it so with those who are seeking to be faithful, but forces Satan to act as His messenger to warn us. "Temptations," it has been said, "are often very profitable to us though they be troublesome and grievous."[7] We have much to learn in the consideration of this saying. Why should a child of God who is daily and consciously receiving and enjoying the gifts of a loving Father find the direct solicitation to offend Him so difficult to overcome? If one whom we knew to be our enemy should try to persuade us to commit some act that would be a deep dishonour to a loving earthly parent, we should not find it hard to repel the suggestion. More than this, the fact that such a thing had been proposed would instinctively impel us to some immediate word or act of devotion, that would leave no shadow of doubt upon our love and loyalty. An answer to this question comes from the Holy Ghost in the very temptation that is vexing us, for in it He would teach us two truths: {169} (1) The first is a very humiliating one, namely, that although our reason recognizes our relation and duty to God, yet somewhere in our nature there is a powerful tendency to choose evil rather than good, the service of Satan rather than the love of God. The Apostle describes his own experience in his letter to his Roman converts. "That which I do, I allow not," he says, "for what I would, that I do not, but what I hate, that I do.... The good that I would, that I do not, but the evil which I would not, that I do."[8] Nor need we be in the dark concerning its extent, for the struggle for the right is always grievous in proportion to the strength of the tendency to choose what Satan offers. (2) Again, when God permits a temptation that is hard to overcome, He is giving us a sign that should teach us that our love for Him is wanting, and that He means us to try by every means to increase it. We ought to be able to act towards God as we do when one whom we love with an earthly love is involved. We read the lives of the Saints, and we see with what ready indignation they rejected Satan's suggestions. It was because their hearts were full of love for God; and when they were asked to {170} dishonour Him, they felt that an indignity had been put upon them, and they rose up against it with all the force of a nature made strong and pure by divine grace. II. _The Bulwark of Love_ At the risk of a digression, we must here consider how we can increase our love and acquire that quality in our souls which will enable us to meet with a sense of outrage any persuasion to violate God's will. The difficulty we experience in repelling Satan points directly to the duty of practising those things which will give us an increase of love and loyalty to God. This is to be accomplished by the execution of some practical resolution which might be framed in this fashion: "I found it hard to refrain from wounding Him; I know, therefore, that my love for God is weaker than I thought. I will therefore this day seek to increase my love in two ways: (1), I will watch for the evidence of His love for me, and will meditate upon it, and upon my unworthiness of it; (2), I will, by His help, force opportunity of doing a definite number of loving acts toward Him and others, that by the practice of love I may increase my love." Then if we would secure a sure increase of love, {171} we must permit no sort of indefiniteness to enter into the fulfilment of our resolution. It must be carried out with precision. For our meditation, nothing could be more profitable than to write out with fulness and care the account of some blessing that has come to us through God's love; and by the side of it write a like definite account of some infidelity of ours toward Him. The shame of the contrast, if our hearts be not wholly bad, cannot but drive us to Him with a fuller desire, which will win from Him the gift of a renewed and strengthened love. The acts, too, must be of the most definite kind. Go out of your way to speak or do some loving thing, offering it, at the time, to God as your work of love to Him. Or it may be some simple act of prayer, such as kneeling with great recollection and deliberation, folding the hands, and lifting the heart in silence for a moment to God, then repeating, very reverently and devoutly, the Lord's Prayer, or some other short devotion. Then, after a pause, add, "Dear Lord, I offer Thee this, to show Thee that I love Thee, and that I want to love Thee more"; or some such little prayer as that of Fenelon's: "Lord, take my heart, for I cannot give it Thee; and when Thou hast it, keep it, for I cannot keep it for Thee; and save me in spite of my sins." {172} Many a sinner has followed some such simple, child-like method, and God's response has come into his heart with a thrill of awakening love that has startled it with its sweetness and power, and filled him with a keen sense of personal dishonour at ever again wounding the heart of Jesus by parleying even for a moment with the tempter. III. _The Lesson of Humility_ The greatest of all lessons the Holy Ghost teaches us is that of humility. Thomas à Kempis shows that one of the special points of profit in temptation lies in the fact that in it "a man is humbled."[9] The most necessary virtue the Christian soul must learn is that of humility. When our Lord would give His disciples the chief reason why they should learn of Him, He said it was because, "I am meek and lowly in heart."[10] It was a common expression of the Fathers of the Church that humility is the mother and mistress of all virtues, and they loved to see in the etymology of the word (_humus_, earth), the suggestion of the soil under our feet, in which, though often unpleasant and repulsive, all fair flowers and fruits have their root and draw their sustenance. {173} We have only to consider pride, the vice which is the contrary of humility, to understand what is meant by the statement that without humility no other virtue can exist. The first of the great virtues, Faith, can certainly not exist along with pride, for it is of the essence of pride to make for self-confidence, as opposed to trust in God or in anyone else besides one's self. Hope cannot exist, for the true God-ward Hope which constitutes this virtue has in it an element of meekness and patient waiting on God that is incompatible with the presence of pride. Nor can Love and pride exist in the same heart, for love is necessarily unselfish, and the proud soul is essentially bound up in self. How then are we to obtain this so necessary virtue of humility? St. Bernard gives us the answer, an answer by no means original with him, however, but which has been the burden of the spiritual masters of every age of the Church. "_Humility is nurtured only by humiliations_." The soul that constantly rejects that which humiliates can never acquire the virtue of humility, for it is deliberately refusing to learn the lesson set for it by the Holy Ghost. Let us not be surprised if God then sets very definite lessons for us in the school of humility. {174} We should not be so foolish as to think we could acquire the knowledge of an earthly trade or profession, without applying ourselves to the lessons set for us. If a young man applied to a lawyer to be allowed to study the law under his direction, he would feel that it was hopeless if the lawyer said: "You need not trouble to work at this thing very much. Just stay around my chambers for a year or so, and you will find yourself a pretty good lawyer." This would not satisfy him. He wants to be told that the law is a jealous mistress, that he must labour long and hard if he would win her honours. His common sense tells him that this is necessary. But, alas, in learning the highest of all knowledge, that of humility, we refuse to use common sense. We think we can acquire it without the lesson of humiliation. (1) Temptation humbles the soul by showing it the possibilities of its degradation. Satan knows us much better than we know ourselves, and it is not likely that he would solicit us to commit a certain sin unless he saw something in us that encouraged him to think we would, with some persuasion, be willing to do it. Let us be sure that the presence of a special temptation, however it may at the time repel us, is the proof that there is something definite in our {175} nature that would be attracted by this solicitation, if the grace of God were not holding us back. So temptation brings self-knowledge, and self-knowledge is the first degree of humility. (2) Temptation, by showing us the possibilities of degradation which, but for the grace of God, would become actualities, enables us to exercise the virtue of humility towards others. If we really understand the natural tendency towards what is evil, and that only through the divine mercy are we saved from the worst forms of sin and corruption, it will be impossible to maintain an "Holier than thou" attitude towards others. "If thou shouldst see another openly sin, or commit some heinous offence, yet oughtest thou not to think the better of thyself, for thou knowest not how long thou shalt be able to stand fast in good. We are all frail, but thou shalt esteem none frailer than thyself."[11] This humbling self-knowledge will also produce a train of virtues which will grow out of and at the same time, by their operation, further and deepen, a spirit of humility. Let us consider three of them. (1) How quick we are to criticise the sin we see in others, but there could be no such {176} arrogance if through Satan's temptations we were daily made to realize what is possible in ourselves. On the contrary, we should be filled with the gentle sympathy that a man feels for one who is in the grip of some dread disease from which he himself has just recovered; and sympathy is always humble. (2) The sight of the degradation of the world in its sin will fill us with a true gratitude to God that we have so far escaped the peril into which Satan had succeeded in leading others, and true gratitude is necessarily humble because even the smallest exercise of it is, as far as it goes, a recognition of our dependence on another, and pride would be unwilling to admit any such dependence. (3) There will, in view of sin as it appears in life about us, be awakened a wholesome fear, such as that which seizes upon a man whose companion has been struck down at his side by the sting of a deadly serpent,--a fear that will drive him back in humble dependence on God, and make him realize how utterly powerless he is, of himself, to avoid a like fate. IV. _The Lessons of Consolation_ The teaching of the Holy Ghost is not confined to warning us of danger. He has also many lessons of encouragement and consolation for us {177} in the hour of temptation. Certain of these have already been considered, and those that we shall consider now, must be disposed of briefly. Perhaps some of us may take them up at another time as themes for further thought and meditation. Such an exercise would be of great profit, for Satan so constantly seeks to discourage us in the field, that we may be sure that it is the loving will of God to offset this by holding before us always that which will enhearten us, and fill us with somewhat of that "stern joy" of the battle which must ever thrill the true soldier in the discharge of his trust. (1) Temptation is an advertisement to the soul that it is, at least in some degree, in the grace of God. To forget this is always a cause of weakness. It is a common thing to hear the complaint, "Something must be wrong with me, or temptation would not come so persistently and in such manifold forms." To see the fallacy that underlies this complaint, one has only to think of our Lord "in all points tempted like as we are."[12] No one was ever so beset with temptation as He was, and if constant temptation be a sign of something wrong within, then no one was ever quite so far {178} gone from righteousness as was our Lord Christ Himself.[13] Something is indeed wrong, from Satan's point of view, with the soul whom he besets with many snares. He is not satisfied with us. There is altogether too much divine love and power in our hearts to please him, and so he sets the battle in array against us. Surely it is a thankworthy thing, one that must bring great joy, to have the evidence that Satan regards us as his enemy. Suppose no temptation assailed us,--what a terrible significance this would have! When we went to prayer, or to Communion, or about the commonplace, God-sent duties of the day, what a fearful thing it would be if Satan, observing us, were to reflect that he had no reason to attack us because, do what we might, he was sure that no harm could come to his kingdom through us! There are men in the world, many of them, indeed, who have no temptations, and who cite the absence of such experience as proof that the Christian teaching concerning the devil and his work is false. {179} Alas, they know not their own misery, for "never art thou more strongly set upon than when thou believest thou art not at all assaulted."[14] Satan does not assail them, and in thus refraining he acts on the same principle as does a warring king who lays no siege to a fortress that is already in his possession, whose sometime defenders lie in his dungeons, chained hand and foot. But as we saw in our first chapter when considering the terms of this warfare, the captivity that such untempted souls are enduring is no idle, passive confinement in some spiritual prison. These worldly souls are the most effective soldiers of him whose very existence and power they deny. He has no reason to unmask himself to them. He "leaves them alone, they are doing his work. The blasphemer is not tempted to blaspheme. Why should he be? He blasphemes already. The unbeliever is not tempted to unbelief,--he has lost his faith. The scoffer is no longer tempted to scoffing,--he scoffs enough already to satisfy even the 'god of this world.'"[15] (2) Temptation is also an advertisement to the soul that God has some special mark of His love to bestow at the particular time. {180} Every occasion of temptation is pregnant with graces and heavenly favours which God has in store for the victor. Calling us forth to the battle is just His way of calling us to lay hold of some increase of strength He has prepared for us. (3) Great comfort is laid hold of by the soul in contemplating that in temptation God is but furnishing us the opportunity to carry out His commands,--"Lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven";[16] and, "Work out your own salvation with fear and trembling."[17] Unless such commands are fulfilled there can be no redemption for us. God has done His part and done it perfectly. So far as His work is concerned, He could, when yielding up His soul on the Cross, most truly cry, "It is finished,"[18] for everything necessary for God to do in order that man might lay hold on salvation was accomplished. But man must have his part. Salvation can come to no soul that does not labour for it, and temptation is the opportunity definitely prepared and presented to us by a loving God that the work of the Cross may not for us have been wrought in vain. Therefore great consolation must come with every assault, and as we feel the weight and thrust of the awful conflict, let us joyfully cry, "Now is the accepted time; now is the day {181} of salvation! Why art thou so heavy, O my soul, and why art thou so disquieted within me! Look up and lift up your head, for your redemption draweth nigh!"[19] (4) The greater and more prolonged the temptation, the greater should be our consolation. The fact that the assault is fierce and persistent gives the blessed assurance that the soul has been faithful in the little temptations. The tempter realizes that if he is to have us at all, it must be at great cost and labour; that we are not going to sell ourselves cheap. (5) We sometimes hear men complain against God's justice because He permits souls to be so beset by the Evil One; but as a matter of fact his antagonism reassures us on this very point. Temptation is Satan's tribute to the divine justice. He is the Accuser of the brethren, and in tempting us he is acknowledging that he must have something real wherewith to accuse us at the Judgment. (6) When strange, terrible, and unaccustomed flashes of temptation come, we learn with great joy that the tempter is puzzled concerning us. Our steadfast service of God has baffled him, and he can only experiment with us, as it were, hoping a weak point may by some means be {182} discovered. Such temptations, in many cases, mean that the tempter is working in the dark. (7) Great comfort must be found in the thought of the victory that awaits us if we are faithful. This should not arise merely from the sense of relief at escaping a fall, but from the happy thought that in every such victory, great or small, Satan is weaker in my life than he was before, and God and His love are stronger. True, great conflicts may be still in store for me, but I have greater strength than ever before for meeting them and overcoming. So while the warfare continues, the soul grows keener for the struggle, and finds greater joy in it, because it realizes its strength, and rejoices, as does every strong man, to use it. Many other points of consolation may be found in the spiritual combat, but these will suffice to show us how much of joy there is in the active, militant life of the Christian, if we only try to find it. Let us, then, thank God for temptation, and if it presses us hard, let us rejoice the more, for it is His way of sending us the pledge of our peace with Him, the guerdon of His love. {183} V. _How to Learn our Lessons_ How are we going to recognize all these lessons as they are presented by the Spirit? There is hardly time in the thick of the battle to pause to think these things out, as we have done in the quiet hour we have given to the reading of this chapter. The soldier cannot stop to draw calm conclusions, and to study the purpose and effect of tactical movements, when the enemy is thundering at the gate, and all but making his way in. One simple suggestion may help us. Let us make a practice of studying our past temptations, as soldiers are wont to study the great military campaigns of history in order to learn methods of warfare. Go to some War College and see the eager young officers as they follow a skilled instructor, all poring intently over a diagram of some battle fought and won a century ago. "Here Napoleon made his mistake; there was the movement by which the field was won; that splendid manoeuvre turned the enemy's flank." They study every move, the effect it wrought, whether it failed or succeeded, and why. And thus, combined with their own practice, men learn the art of war. In some such way let it be with us in the spiritual conflict. The School of the Holy Ghost is a {184} War College in which the campaigns of the armies of God and Satan are to be studied under the guidance of our divine Instructor. How constantly has the Church studied the great campaign prosecuted against Satan by our own great Captain in the wilderness! How much has been learned by the study of His methods of resistance and attack! The lives of the Saints, too, are but studies of military campaigns waged for God. But perhaps most profitable of all will be the study of our own battles. Under the guidance of the Spirit, go back to some recent temptation, (always excepting scrupulously temptations against faith and purity); study its circumstance, how it arose, if it came through any fault of ours. Did we presumptuously run into occasion of perilous temptation? If not, what occasion did the enemy seize upon for his attack? Was there parleying with him? Did we meet it in the first moment with prayer and acts of faith, hope, love, contrition, and humility, or were these powerful weapons not brought to bear? Through it all, did we strive to keep our lines of communication with our headquarters and our base of supplies open by prayer? Or did we forget who our Leader was and grow panic-stricken? Can we recall the particular point at which downfall {185} began? Or, if there was victory, what prayer, what thought, was it that imparted a sudden strength to the heart, and drove home the thrust that put the enemy to flight? Or what painful pressing on, inch by inch, forced him at last to fly the field? And when we beheld him fleeing, did we secure ourselves, and spike his guns, as it were, by fervent acts of gratitude to God who had given us the victory? We may not be able to find answers to all these questions, but if in the beginning of such a study, we find only a few, well and good. We shall profit by them, and in the next temptation use the knowledge gained; and so shall we go on, gaining more and more knowledge out of the study of our own experience, and more and more faithfully putting that knowledge to use, until we become skilled and practised campaigners in the wars of the Lord; until, indeed, we become worthy to be enrolled among those of whom the Apostle speaks, "Who by reason of use have their senses exercised to discern both good and evil."[20] {186} All this while, however, we are not to neglect our study of the spiritual campaigns of others. In the pages of the Bible, in the lives of the Saints and holy men, in their own experiences that they have recorded for us in their spiritual writings, we can find innumerable things with which we can compare, and by which correct, the conclusions of our study of the principles of the warfare. These are especially valuable when found in the biographies of the great servants of God, for in such records we find the theory actually worked out in the lives of men of like passions with ourselves. A beautiful illustration of this is recalled from the life of that great champion of the Faith, Bishop Gray of Capetown. When in the midst of his contest with the heretic Colenso, when the Church and the world seemed combined against him, from one of his long wagon-journeys across the lonely African veldt, he writes, "I find great comfort in repeating the first three petitions of the Lord's Prayer." What a mighty weapon was that! Have we used it as did this servant of God? [1] Ps. xxv, 8. [2] Ps. xxxii, 9. [3] Isa. liv, 13. [4] St. John xiv, 26. [5] St. John xvi, 13. [6] "One does not arrive at virtue except through knowledge of self and knowledge of Me, which knowledge is more perfectly acquired in time of temptation, because then man knows himself to be nothing, being unable to lift off himself the pains and vexations which he would flee."--St. Catherine of Siena, _Dialogue_, p. 119. (Thorold Trans., London, 1907.) [7] _Imitation_, I, xiii. [8] Rom. vii, 15 and 19. [9] _Imitation_, I, xiii. [10] St. Matt. xi, 29. [11] _Imitation_, I, ii. [12] Heb. iv, 15. [13] St. Luke says, "When the devil had ended every kind of temptation, he departed from Him until a convenient season."--Chap, iv, 13. "He was tempted throughout the forty days, and that what is recorded is merely an illustration of what took place. The enemy tried all his weapons, and was at all points defeated."--Plummer, _Internal. Crit. Comment_, in loc. [14] St. Jerome, Epistle to Heliodorus. [15] H. E. Manning, _Sin and its Consequences_, p. 173. [16] St. Matt. vi, 20. [17] Phil. ii, 12. [18] St. John xix, 30. [19] 2 Cor. vi, 2; Ps. xliii, 5; St. Luke xxi, 28. [20] Heb. v, 14. The words of the author of the Epistle may be paraphrased somewhat as follows: "Who by reason of the possession of perfected habit have the mental faculties exercised (by a course of spiritual gymnastics), for discriminating between good and evil." See Westcott and Alford _in loc_. St. Macarius, speaking of these spiritual gymnastics, says, "We have need of many and great efforts, of much secret and unseen toil, to be able thoroughly to sift and scrutinize our thoughts, and to exercise the languid senses of the soul to discern both good and evil. We must continually arouse and excite the debilitated members of the soul by a close application of our minds to God."--_Institutes of Christian Perfection_, Bk. I, ch. vii. {187} CHAPTER XII THE RETURN FROM CAPTIVITY We may set before ourselves the methods of warfare that lead to spiritual victory; we may study them with all care and prayer; but the weakness of our nature being what it is, we must not expect to go through life without meeting defeat at the hands of the enemy. Even the Saints have not been immune from sin. When St. Paul spoke of sinners, he added, "Of whom I am chief."[1] St. John not only said, "If we say that we have no sin, we deceive ourselves," but he added those terrible words, "If we say that we have not sinned, we make Him a liar."[2] A most necessary part, therefore, of our instruction in the school of the soldier is concerning the course we are to follow when we find we have fallen; how we are to find our way back from the captivity; by what means we are to renew our allegiance to our divine Leader. We all know that the necessary thing is _Repentance_, but it is not everyone who understands what repentance is. In its essence repentance is {188} not an emotion; it is not a mere attitude of mind; it is a work, a serious work, and in many instances a hard work. In this chapter we do not purpose using any special method, scholastic or otherwise, of showing what this work is, or how it should be accomplished. In a simple, perhaps informal way, we shall, as the Holy Ghost may guide us, consider some of the aspects of the interior spirit we must cultivate if, after a fall, we would by true repentance come back to our loving Father. I. _Hastening to Repent_ It will help us if we recall one of the principles we thought of in the beginning of our study, when we were considering the terms and conditions of the warfare. We learned then that any fall into sin, in the measure of its seriousness, means, "not an idle, passive confinement in some spiritual prison, but an active enlistment in the armies of hell to fight against our Lord Jesus Christ." When we think of this, we shall understand that the first consideration must be the speed with which we must hasten to release ourselves from the horrid bondage into which we have fallen. Two reasons for this haste suggest themselves. (1) First of all, the soul that desires to love will make all speed in order that God's Name may {189} be relieved of the dishonour that befalls it when one of His family, one called by His name, signed and sealed as His soldier, renounces Him and gives in his allegiance to the Devil. We can brook no delay in such a matter. How keenly sensitive is human honour in like affairs! Let us not think that the divine honour is a duller thing than that indefinable possession men guard as the most sacred of all their moral treasures. (2) Again, for our own sakes, no time is to be lost in returning to God. Sin is a poison. Every moment the poison remains in the system makes it more difficult to expel. It is absorbed and carried to every part of the body, working wherever it touches with deadly effect. If we should take a poisonous draught by mistake, how instant we should be that we might be rid of it. How much more insistent should we be that the poison whose effects are eternal should not be given time for its deadly work. It is at this point that Satan's temptation comes in. "What is the use?" he whispers, "you will sin again." So does he try to discourage us, and the soul who thinks only of self is apt to stop and listen. Not so with him whose penitence has its root in love; not so with him who feels keenly that his act has dishonoured a loving, tender Father and Friend. He will not brood over his {190} fall, for he knows that every hour of such weak repining is an hour of added sin. He will sweep the temptation aside, and cry with strong resolution, "I will arise and go to my Father!" For he knows that if he waits, the numbing influence of the poison will creep into heart and will, and that after a time he may have neither desire nor power to repent. We must not leave this subject, however, without finding a reply to Satan's suggestion,--"It is of no use; you will sin again." Many a soul has been entrapped by it. Many a one, through fear of future failure, has been held back from righting the present wrong. But to yield to such a fear is to commit a special offence against the Holy Ghost. No promise is more constant in Holy Scripture than that if we rise in the strength He will give us, go forward again, and set no special task for ourselves beyond just doing the best we can, He will keep and sustain us. "He shall give His angels charge over thee to keep thee in all thy ways;"[3] "Fear not, little flock, for it is your Father's good pleasure to give you the kingdom."[4] "Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid;"[5] "I will never leave thee nor forsake thee."[6] {191} What completer assurance can we ask of the Holy Spirit than these repeated promises that God will fight for us, defend us on every side, and give us the victory? and he who fears to rise and go forward in the face of such assurances, is assuming that the Spirit has spoken falsely, or that God will not keep His word. II. _A Tranquil Sorrow_ Our penitence, though prompt and swift, must withal be tranquil. True penitence allows no place for excitability. (1) Because it grasps the truth that our fall was not a matter for surprise. It was only what we are to expect when, failing to use the grace God constantly offers, we venture upon our own strength. The only wonder and surprise should be that we do not fail a hundred times more frequently. (2) Because surprise at falling indicates pride. We imagined we were strong. In self-righteousness we prided ourselves on our security, and we found that "security is the suburbs of hell." But true penitence knows no such pride, and therefore feels no surprise. The broken and contrite heart is, of necessity, the humble heart; it is the heart that thanks God with wondering gratitude for every hour of faithfulness to Him. (3) Again, true penitence is tranquil because {192} it is sure of acceptance at the Father's hands. Perturbation in its approach to God would indicate uncertainty of mind as to its reception; and this would mean a lack of trust in His promises. Consider again what the promises are: "Turn unto the Lord your God, for He is gracious and merciful, slow to anger, and of great kindness";[7] "To the Lord our God belong mercies and forgivenesses, though we have rebelled against Him; neither have we obeyed the voice of the Lord our God;"[8] "Him that cometh to Me I will in no wise cast out";[9] "The Blood of Jesus Christ His Son cleanseth us from all sin."[10] Can the heart desiring to return to the allegiance of our God have any qualm of doubt in the face of such promises? If there is true penitence, rather will it return in a confident peace, knowing with a most assured certainty that "the mercy of the Lord is from everlasting to everlasting upon them that fear Him."[11] (4) The penitent soul turns to the Father in tranquillity because it knows that, though there has been grievous fall, yet all is not lost. He will give it another chance. In the Father's house are many mansions, and He is still preparing a place for us. All the treasures of His {193} Kingdom may yet be ours if we come back in true sorrow. We broke our resolution, we wounded Him again in the same old sin, but He has not given us up. Even while we are wondering how we can ever face Him again, He is starting out on His way to the wilderness to seek the sheep that is lost. The stones of the way cut His Sacred Feet; the thorns and briars of sin tear His Hands as He bends down to extricate the entangled soul; but He cares naught for these if only He can fetch home again His banished one. We are told that "The Saints are the sinners who kept on trying." They reign in glory to-day not because they were pure from sin, but because when sin entered in they did not forget the Father's tender love, but came back, calm and sure, to the peace of His pardoning embrace. III. _A Spirit of Reparation_ A heart that loves, and that has offended the object of its love, naturally longs for opportunity to make reparation. If our return to the divine allegiance after a fall is in the smallest measure sincere, we shall not have to spur ourselves on to a desire for reparation. It will spring up unbidden, strong and dominant. The heart will be restless and disquieted until opportunity be found. This desire is not a supernatural gift only. It {194} belongs even to the natural heart of man. We see it showing itself in little children. Mark the child who has offended a loving mother, who has wept out its heart-broken confession on her bosom, and been forgiven and soothed, and sent away restored to the mother's favour. How quick is that little one all day long to watch for and grasp opportunities of responding to her slightest wish. The little heart instinctively longs to make good the wrong of its disobedience. So with the heart that, having sinned against God, has repented. This is one of the best tests of true and godly repentance. If we long to repair the wrong, if we are quick to seize opportunities to honour Him whom our sin had dishonoured, there can be no question that we have sorrowed after a godly sort. How does God meet this spirit on the part of the penitent? Here enters the divine Love and says, "My child, you have indeed dishonoured Me in your sin, and wounded and crucified Me afresh. Your love demands an opportunity for reparation and my answering love will give it you. Go forth to this renewed battle; show that you can be a good soldier of the Cross. Fight valiantly that you may win even greater glory for My Name than that which was lost by your failure." {195} What more can the generous heart ask of God? Suppose when we came to Him in deep sorrow for our fault, He should say to us, "I will pardon you, but never will I give you the opportunity of serving me again. I trusted you once and you failed me. I will not trust you again." Would our hearts desire heaven on such a condition? I think there is not one of us who would not feel that to stand in His presence among the redeemed on such terms would be the veriest hell. But the love of God deals not thus with sinners. "Though you have failed Me," He says, "I will trust you again. Go forth once more. My grace will make you strong; My love will hedge you round about." IV. _The Work of Amendment_ The true test of penitence is amendment of life, but God does not require actual amendment before receiving us back into His service. What He demands is that we have a firm purpose of amendment. No man can say what he will do in the future. The future belongs to God. It may never be ours at all. It is ours at the present moment to make a resolution of amendment, and then to trust in God to fulfil in us this resolve. From the nature of things we can never arrive {196} at any mathematical demonstration of having amended. On the contrary, it is the invariable experience of those who are striving most earnestly in God's service, that the more they strive the less they think they are accomplishing. St. Paul did not think when he was persecuting the Church that he was the chief of sinners. But when he had seen the Lord in the way, after he had been rapt to the third heaven, after he had suffered hunger and thirst, cold and nakedness, stripes and imprisonment, for His Name's sake, after he had given up everything that the world counted dear, after men saw he had attained to such sanctity that his name was one of power in all the Churches, then came to him the deep sense that he had accomplished nothing. He thought of himself as the chief of sinners, and counted that he had laid hold of nothing for God; that he must forget the things that were behind and reach forth unto the things that were before if he was to attain the prize of the high calling of God in Christ Jesus.[12] Men trembled at his words of burning rebuke, while he trembled lest having preached to others he himself should be a castaway.[13] The experience of the great Apostle is shared by every soul who loves God, and the reason is plain. {197} The nearer we approach to our Lord, the more vivid is the contrast between our sin-stained souls and His perfect life. In the illumination of His near presence every fault stands out in awful prominence, and though there may not be a tenth of the sin that once filled our lives, our consciousness of it is a hundred-fold increased. This must be the case if we are vigilant; and Satan finds in this condition much occasion for temptation. Let us illustrate. A certain man has all his life been a slave to the sin of anger. Every day he has been guilty of it. It becomes so common a thing in his life that he sins habitually, forgetting it five minutes afterward. He kept no account with himself. Had he been questioned about it, he could have given no idea of the frequency of the sin. This man is converted. He now fights hard, and maintains a careful watch over himself. Where sin formerly came and went without attracting notice, now every approach of it is keenly felt. At the end of the day he can recall distinctly a half-dozen falls, and he is tempted to think the case is hopeless. But last week there was a score of falls, though he scarcely remembered two of them at the end of the day. Now he remembers thrice that number with terrible vividness. But the increase of consciousness of sin is not the increase of sin. {198} He is amending his life, though quite the contrary _seems_ the case. These considerations show us how untrue, of necessity, must be all our estimates of our progress in amendment. We have no outside point of view from the vantage-ground of which we can form a right judgment. Therefore God says to the sinner, "Make your resolution in honesty of purpose; commit it to Me; do the best you can; above all things never violate your own conscience; and under no circumstances try to estimate your progress. If you should see that you had advanced, pride and presumption would arise to imperil you; if you could see no progress, the temptation to despair might unnerve you. Commit your ways unto Me; that will bring a man peace at the last." V. _The Gainsaying of Satan_ We have said that the true test of penitence is amendment of life. We can hardly read this sentence without being conscious of temptation, for it is here that Satan brings in one of his most subtle suggestions. We can hear him taunting the soul: "Is this all you have to depend on for your hope of salvation? Have you ever really amended your life?" And then with that mysterious power that {199} God has given him for the trial of the Saints, and which he uses so pitilessly, he flashes upon the mirror of the mind old sins, sins of long ago, of which we repented in bitterness and tears, it may be; but which we took again to our hearts time after time. We made our Confession, we said to God in the presence of His priest (for he could not have absolved us without this), "I firmly purpose amendment." Then we went away and sinned again and yet again. After a time we came back to Confession. The same acknowledgment, the same promise,--and then the same old sin again. Thus has life gone on, year after year, and yet we dare to look to God to take us back to our old allegiance. Satan tells us all this; and it loses nothing in the telling. It is very terrible, and the soul shrinks back appalled. Then swift as thought the voice of the tempter comes again: "What is the use? You will sin again; why not give it all up?" Many a soul has followed his counsel to its eternal loss. It sounded plausible. It seemed to fit exactly into our own experience; and yet it was a lie. It was a lie because in all that he said the tempter was deceiving us as to the true meaning of amendment. Satan's knowledge of what perfection is, is a very strange and wonderful thing. {200} An angel from heaven could not set up a higher standard than he is able to do when he is seeking to discourage a struggling soul. _Amendment does not mean perfection of life; it does not mean never committing some particular sin again_. This was not what we resolved; it was not what we told God we purposed doing. What amendment does mean is, "_to change for the better_."[14] This is to be the spirit and resolution with which we return from the captivity of sin. It is all God asks. But the tempter is not yet vanquished. Quick comes the whisper in the soul,--"Have you done even this? Has there been a change in your life for the better? Have you any assurance that your life is in the smallest degree better than it was a year ago?" Staggering questions these, to the soul that is ignorant; but the soul that is wise, the soul that is really under the guidance of the Holy Spirit, has its answer ready. "I do not know whether I have done this or not. I know not if my life is changed for the better, or if I am living more as Christ would have me live than I did a year ago. Moreover, I am not concerned to give you, God's enemy and mine, any answer to these questions. I have no account to render to you. But one thing I know; {201} when I sin I can come back to Him. I kneel at His feet, I put my hands in His, I look up into those eyes brimming with love, and I say, 'Dear Lord, here is my poor heart all full of sin again; I lay it at Thy feet. Wash it in Thy Precious Blood, and make me strong to serve Thee better. I am sorry and I purpose to amend, but I am weak. Be Thou my strength; fight Thou against them that fight against me, and let me be the victor in the end.' I speak thus to Him, and leave it all with Him. I sin again, and again I come and kneel at His feet; and though I have to come daily to Him with the same burden, His embrace is never less tender, His words not less sweet, His eyes are ever full of the same old love. "Am I amending my life? I know not,--He knows. Is my soul a saintlier thing than it was a year ago? I know not,--He knows. All I know is that I love Him, and I want to love Him more; and that when I think on Him my heart is at peace." [1] 1 Tim. i, 15. [2] 1 St. John i, 8 and 10. [3] Ps. xci, 11. [4] St. Luke xii, 32. [5] St. John xiv, 27. [6] Heb. xiii, 5. [7] Joel ii, 13. [8] Dan. ix, 9, 10. [9] St. John vi, 37. [10] 1 St. John i, 7. [11] Ps. ciii, 17. [12] Phil. iii, 13-14. [13] 1 Cor. ix, 27. [14] _Vid._ Webster. {202} CHAPTER XIII THE GROUND FOR CHRISTIAN COURAGE In His instructions to His disciples, while not hiding from them what were to be the hardships and, as the world counts it, loss, that must accompany His service, our Lord was ever full of words of encouragement. He strove always to show them that while the following of Him was not what the natural heart would look for as a flowery path, yet, if understood aright, His yoke was easy and His burden light, and that those who bore it would find rest for their souls.[1] Particularly in His last discourse to them He sets forth repeated words of encouragement. Twice He used those words of tender assurance, "Let not your heart be troubled," adding, "Neither let it be afraid."[2] Four times He declares in substance, "Whatsoever ye shall ask in My name, that will I do."[3] He assures them that He Himself will be diligent in praying the Father for them that the Blessed Comforter may {203} abide with them forever.[4] He declares that if they will but abide in Him, they will be able to bring forth eternal fruit of victory.[5] Sorrow indeed shall be theirs, but "Your sorrow shall be turned into joy," a joy that "may be full," a joy that "no man taketh from you."[6] And the great discourse concludes with a pledge of their final victory,--words of lofty encouragement that should ever be in the hearts of His soldiers, sustaining in them the spirit of a divine valour: "These things I have spoken unto you that in Me ye might have peace. In the world ye shall have tribulation, but be of good cheer; I have overcome the world."[7] Let us therefore, as the final study we are to make of the conditions and progress of our spiritual warfare, consider the grounds we have for encouragement at every stage of the battle. I. _Members One of Another_ The Church of God, "the Body of Christ,"[8] as St. Paul repeatedly calls it, which is "the blessed company of all faithful people," is a living {204} organism. When the Apostle says it is "the Body of Christ," and speaks of us as members of that Body, he means that the members bear the same relation to every other member as, for example, my hands and my feet, members of my physical body, bear to each other; and that all are partakers of the one life which flows through the whole Body and which constitutes it what it is. The effect of all this he sets forth in a brief saying: "Whether one member suffer, all the members suffer with it; or one member be honoured, all the members rejoice with it."[9] When my hand is diseased my whole body is sick; and when health and strength return to it again, my whole body rejoices in that healing. If we keep this principle in mind, the tempter will be powerless to discourage us in the conflict. Rather will our hearts be ever full of high hope, which will carry us rejoicing through the darkest hour of the conflict. Think of our share in every prayer and good work that is being offered to God anywhere to-day in all the world. Think of the Eucharists in which we share. As the sun follows its course, and looks with each revolving day upon a million altars whose fires ring the world, it looks upon nothing in which I have not my part. Think {205} how many times this day the cry has sounded forth, "Let us pray for the whole state of Christ's Church Militant!" With each exhortation there ascended to God a prayer for me, that my soul might be strong, that I might be victor in the end. The great Sacrifice of the Altar is lifted up, and it is for me; and whatever grace comes to those far-off souls of priest and people through their faithful performance of that duty, comes also to me. No grace can enter their souls without flowing on to mine; they could not be lifted up to a higher and godlier plane of life without drawing me up with them. Little do we dream of the power of the unknown prayers of God's people. This very day Satan may have planned some deadly snare in which to entrap my feet; and the snare, it may be, was broken and swept from my path through the power of a simple prayer for tempted souls, offered this morning by a little child half-way round the world. Picture a man walking on a dark night along a lonely mountain trail. A deadly viper lies across his path. He steps across the venomous thing; it coils and strikes,--just a moment too late! The traveller passes on, never to know the danger he was in. So with us in our journey through life. We may never know the hidden {206} dangers; we may never know the grace that came through the prayer or good works of some far-off soul, that saved us. But what courage does the thought infuse! I had thought myself alone on this far outpost of temptation. I knew not how my soul could be reinforced by my comrades in the strife. But the help came. I was made strong; and that which might have been a grievous and hurtful battle was to me an easy victory. Such is the power of intercession,--here a heart lifted up to God, yonder a soul made strong; here a spirit wrestling with Him, yonder a crown of victory won. "The weary ones had rest, the sick had joy that day And wondered how. The ploughman, singing at his work, had prayed, 'God help them now.' "Alone in foreign lands, they wondered how Their feeble word had power. At home the Christians, two or three, had met To pray an hour. "So we are always wondering, wondering long Because we do not see Some one, unknown perhaps, and far away, On bended knee." {207} II. _The Church's Treasury of Grace_ Since, then, no soul in the Church of God, whether in this world or beyond, can increase in grace without that same grace flowing also into my soul and helping me, the recollection of the Communion of Saints and the vast treasury of spiritual power upon which I can continually draw must be a never-failing source of hope and courage. I may be far from the state of spiritual perfection that constitutes what the Church calls a Saint, but no gift of grace is ever laid hold upon by a Saint in which I do not have a share. The gifts of God, in whatever form they may come, and upon whomsoever they may be directly bestowed, are "for the edifying of the Body of Christ,"[10] for the enriching of every member thereof. Nor do these graces operate but for a little time, and then lose their activity. Once the grace of God is set in operation, it goes on forever. The sanctity of the Saints moves on through the ages. The Church to-day is strong with the strength which long labour and faithfulness won for the Apostles and Prophets, the Confessors, the Martyrs, the Virgins. The grace {208} bestowed upon St. John in his earthly life still holds its place in the Body of Christ, and so long as I am in that Body that very grace which was given to him helps me, and is a part of the defence of my soul in the hour of battle, if I will only rise up to use what God is offering me. More wonderful than this, however, is the relation of the Saints in glory to my soul. Not only am I helped by the grace they received in their earthly pilgrimage, but every access of glory given them in their heavenly life is a like increase of grace to every member of the same Body of which I am a part, and so an added help to me. Thus wondrously does the law of divine grace work. When the Saints on earth go on from strength to strength, their strength flows into me; when the Saints in heaven pass, in their unceasing progress, from glory to glory, I again am made the beneficiary of what is given them. All this, however, operates on one condition. Am I keeping the channels open through which the life and strength of the Body flow into the members? If I bind fast a member of my body with a cord the circulation ceases, and strength and life begin to ebb in that member. If I permit myself, a member of the Body of Christ, to be bound with a cord of sin, the circulation of {209} the divine life and grace is cut off from me, and grace begins to fail, strength is reduced, and spiritual death will ensue, unless by penitence I cut the cord and let the life-blood flow freely once again. Prayer and faithfulness in the use of what I already have will keep the channels open. Every cry of my soul to God, every effort to do His will, every resistance of the Evil One, produces a stronger, more vigorous circulation in the Body, that makes my strength greater, my life richer, with the communication of all that the Body of Christ possesses for the edifying of its members. III. _God's Interest in Our Victory_ There is among men to-day a wide-spread notion of Christianity that bases everything upon a spirit of utter selfishness. It tells me to think always of my own soul; that if I find a reasonable assurance that this soul of mine will in the end "be saved," I need give no thought to further service of God. In short it is a strange and monstrous belief that teaches me to look out for myself, to serve God for just what I can get out of Him, to drive as shrewd a bargain with Him as I can, and win heaven on as cheap terms as is in any way possible. It is a Christianity, falsely so called, that leaves out of consideration the {210} most important fact of all, namely, that God has an infinite interest in me and my victory, because His first relation to me is that of a tender, loving Father whose heart yearns over me, who loves me with an everlasting love.[11] When I think of this, I can understand how strong an encouragement I can draw from the consideration of His interest in the issue of the battle to which He calls me. My victory involves the destiny of my soul, but the destiny of my soul involves the eternal honour of God. (1) Our Lord has gone to prepare a place for me. This place is awaiting me, a place in the heavenly choirs among those whose eternal occupation is to serve God day and night in His temple. What that service is in its nature and detail I know not. But one thing I know; that so deeply is it bound up with the divine interest and honour, that God counted it worth while to sacrifice the life of His eternal Son, amid the torments of the Cross, in order to win me for that service. There is the place awaiting me; the heavenly ranks are not full; the heavenly task is not yet done: a rift is in the heavenly praises, a hand wanting in the work, until I come thither to have my part among those who are counted worthy of the eternal rest of Paradise, {211} but who nevertheless rest not day nor night from His perfect service. When I think of all this, I see that my relation to God cannot be a selfish one. God has infinitely more at stake than I have; my victory is infinitely more to His interest than it is to mine, just because He is so infinitely greater than His creature. Seeing that this is so, we can understand how mightily He will strive to give us the victory. No matter what undreamed of gifts of grace are needed, He stands ready to bestow them. Having given such infinite hostages already to make sure of us, nothing can be too great with which to equip us if it be necessary to our victory; for the victory is bound up in the bundle of life with the everlasting honour of the Godhead. "He that spared not His own Son, but delivered Him up for us all, how shall He not with Him also freely give us all things."[12] (2) Time and again in Holy Scripture does the Holy Ghost lead the inspired authors to call upon God for help and deliverance "for His Name's sake." The expression is so common that we pass it over too often, as though it were a mere adjuration which, like many that find their way into human speech, has no real significance. But the Holy Spirit never uses {212} language in this meaningless fashion, and a few moments' consideration will show us how definite and deep a meaning there is in this expression used so constantly in Holy Writ. It means nothing less than that our pardon, our deliverance, or whatever it is that is being asked "for His Name's sake," involves the honour of the Divine Name. God's Name is dishonoured among men whenever a Christian sins. A simple illustration will show us how this is. A son leaves the paternal roof; he goes out into the world and disgraces himself. How quickly do men say, "This man did not have the proper, honest training; his parents must have been indeed careless of his bringing-up, since he has turned out so badly." Here we find the father's good name being spoken against because of the sins of the son. Is not the like thing being constantly said of our Heavenly Father because of the sins of His children? A Christian is guilty of some dishonest, or mean, or selfish act. He is known to the world as a Christian man, and how often have we heard it said, "Well, if he is what you call a Christian, I do not care to be one." Thus is God's Name dishonoured and blasphemed among men, through the sins of His children. He and the power of His Gospel are held to be of small account because those who confess Him {213} fail to be faithful to Him. Well did the Spirit inspire the holy men of old to pray for deliverance for the sake of His Holy Name, that it might not, through their failure, be brought into disrepute. So in the time of temptation the Psalmist cries, "Save me, O God, for Thy Name's sake;"[13] and when he fails, his prayer is "For Thy Name's sake, O Lord, pardon mine iniquity."[14] Realizing his sins, he asks for forgiveness, but with no selfish motive. He thought not of his own salvation alone. It was the honour of his Father's Name that he had at heart, and so he asked for pardon lest his sins should give the enemy occasion to blaspheme. Nor is it only for deliverance that the Psalmist prays. His sins being forgiven, he knows that he cannot walk in the paths of righteousness save through the divine guiding, and that if his feet wander from the way, again will that Name be dishonoured. And so he cries, "For Thy Name's sake, lead me and guide me";[15] and again desiring more and more of the divine life of the Spirit, he cries, "Quicken me, O Lord, for Thy Name's sake."[16] The lesson for our encouragement is clear. So {214} jealous is God of His own Name, so deeply dishonoured is that Name whenever we sin, that the Spirit again and again, in teaching us to pray against the devil, tells us to plead with God on this very basis. When His Name is involved God will rise in His might, and come to our help with a mighty hand and a stretched-out arm. Even if His mighty love were not a motive force, we can trust Him to care for His own good Name, to do His utmost to save us, since the fall of one who is called by His Name will lay His honour in the dust. (3) Again, consider what is the meaning of each particular defeat to God. Every baptized soul is a point on the far-flung battle line of the Church Militant; every baptized soul is His soldier, made in His image and sealed with His Sign of adoption, and set to defend a definite point in the front of God's army. Is it nothing to Him that such a soul be beaten down by the foe? Is it nothing to Him that His divine image be marred and denied with the marks of the Fiend, and that he who bears it be dragged away a captive of hell? Unless all revelation concerning His love be false, even the smallest defeat in the battle is to God something at which the imagination staggers when it seeks to grasp it. What would a loving {215} earthly father think to see his beloved child torn from his bosom, and carried away into the power of a savage enemy, consigned to untold and eternal woe? Would he take it philosophically, dismissing the whole affair from his mind after a time, justifying himself that this dread calamity came by the child's fault, and was the result of its own disobedience? And is our heavenly Father less loving, less tender, of His children, than an earthly father? True, suffering in any human sense, cannot touch the Godhead, but there must be some awful and mysterious thing which human thought can never fathom, and which we dare not seek to understand, that enters, as it were, into the Godhead when souls fail and are lost; or else the Holy Spirit could never have inspired the Apostle to reveal concerning the risen, ascended, and glorified God-Incarnate, that in our surrender to Satan there is a crucifying of Him afresh.[17] Where then have we warrant for discouragement? When Satan sets the battle in array against my soul, I am not alone. The call to arms rings through all heaven. The Lord Christ Himself goes forth to war in the unconquerable might of His Sacred Humanity. Angels and archangels, and all the glorious company of heaven, spring {216} forward to action. The great multitude which no man can number, of all nations and kindreds, and people, and tongues, that stand before the throne and before the Lamb, war for me in the might of their ceaseless intercession; and as the vast and splendid front of the armies of the living God sweep on to the conflict, my soul is caught up in the mighty movement and advance, and their spirit becomes my spirit, as we go forth, conquering and to conquer, in God's behalf and mine. [1] St. Matt. xi, 29-30. [2] St. John xiv, 1 and 27. [3] St. John xiv, 13; xv, 7 and 16; xvi, 23 and 24. [4] St. John xiv, 16. [5] St. John xv, 16. [6] St. John xvi, 20, 22, and 24. [7] St. John xvi, 33. [8] "Now ye are the Body of Christ, and members in particular."--1 Cor. xii, 27. See also Rom. xii, 5; Eph. i, 23; iv, 12; and v, 23 and 30; Col. i, 24. [9] 1 Cor. xii, 26. [10] Eph. iv, 12. [11] Jer. xxxi, 3. [12] Rom. viii, 32. [13] Ps. liv, 1. [14] Ps. xxv, 11. [15] Ps. xxxi, 3. [16] Ps. cxliii, 11. [17] Heb. vi, 6. 
33341	----	SECRET POWER OR THE SECRET OF SUCCESS IN CHRISTIAN LIFE AND WORK. By D. L. MOODY FLEMING H. REVELL COMPANY NEW YORK : : CHICAGO : : TORONTO _Publishers of Evangelical Literature_ Copyrighted 1881, by FLEMING H. REVELL. PREFACE. One man may have "zeal without knowledge," while another may have knowledge without zeal. If I could have only the one, I believe I should choose the first; but, with an open Bible, no one need be without knowledge of God's will and purpose; and the object of this book is to help others to know the source of true power, that both their zeal and their knowledge may be of increased service in the Master's work. Paul says, "all Scripture is given by inspiration of God, and is profitable;" but I believe one portion, and that the subject of this book, has been too much overlooked, as though it were not practical, and the result is lack of power in testimony and work. If we would work, "not as one that beateth the air," but to some definite purpose, we must have this power from on high. Without this power, our work will be drudgery. With it, it becomes a joyful task, a refreshing service. May God make this book a blessing to many. This is my prayer. D. L. MOODY. NORTHFIELD, MASS., May 1st, 1881. CHAPTER I. POWER--ITS SOURCE In vain do the inhabitants of London go to their conduits for supply unless the man who has the master-key turns the water on; and in vain do we think to quench our thirst at ordinances, unless God communicates the living water of His Spirit.--_Anon_. It was the custom of the Roman emperors, at their triumphal entrance, to cast new coins among the multitudes; so doth Christ, in His triumphal ascension into heaven, throw the greatest gifts for the good of men that were ever given.--_T. Goodwin_. To unconverted persons, a great part of the Bible resembles a letter written in cipher. The blessed Spirit's office is to act as God's decipherer, by letting His people into the secret of celestial experience, as the key and clew to those sweet mysteries of grace which were before as a garden shut up, or as a fountain sealed, or as a book written in an unknown character.--_Toplady_. The greatest, strongest, mightiest plea for the Church of God in the world is the existence of the Spirit of God in its midst, and the works of the Spirit of God are the true evidences of Christianity. They say miracles are withdrawn, but the Holy Spirit is the standing miracle of the Church of God to-day. I will not say a word against societies for Christian evidences, nor against those weighty and learned brethren who have defended the outworks of the Christian Church. They have done good service, and I wish them every blessing, but as to my own soul, I never was settled in my faith in Christ by Paley's Evidences, nor by all the evidence ever brought from history or elsewhere; the Holy Spirit has taken the burden off my shoulders, and given me peace and liberty. This to me is evidence, and as to the externals which we can quote to others, it was enough for Peter and John that the people saw the lame man healed, and they needed not to speak for themselves.--_Spurgeon_. POWER--ITS SOURCE. "Without the soul, divinely quickened and inspired, the observances of the grandest ritualism are as worthless as the motions of a galvanized corpse."--_Anon_. I QUOTE this sentence, as it leads me at once to the subject under consideration. What is this quickening and inspiration? What is this power needed? From whence its source? I reply: The Holy Spirit of God. I am a full believer in "The Apostles' Creed," and therefore "I believe in the Holy Ghost." A writer has pointedly asked: "What are our souls without His grace?--as dead as the branch in which the sap does not circulate. What is the Church without Him?--as parched and barren as the fields without the dew and rain of heaven." There has been much inquiry of late on the subject of the Holy Spirit. In this and other lands thousands of persons have been giving attention to the study of this grand theme. I hope it will lead us all to pray for a greater manifestation of His power upon the whole Church of God. How much we have dishonored Him in the past! How ignorant of His grace, and love and presence we have been? True, we have heard of Him and read of Him, but we have had little intelligent knowledge of His attributes, His offices and His relations to us. I fear He has not been to many professed Christians an actual existence, nor is He known to them as a personality of the Godhead. The first work of the Spirit is to give life; spiritual life. He gives it and He sustains it. If there is no life, there can be no power; Solomon says: "A living dog is better than a dead lion." When the Spirit imparts this life, He does not leave us to droop and die, but constantly fans the flame. He is ever with us. Surely we ought not to be ignorant of His power and his work. IDENTITY AND PERSONALITY. In John v, 7, we read: "There are three that bear record in heaven, the Father, the Word, and the Holy Ghost, and these three are one." By the Father is meant the first Person, Christ, the Word is the second, and the Holy Spirit, perfectly fulfilling His own office and work in union with the Father and the Son, is the third. I find clearly presented in my Bible, that the One God who demands my love, service and worship, has there revealed Himself, and that each of those three names of Father, Son and Holy Ghost has personality attached to them. Therefore we find some things ascribed to God as Father, some to God as Saviour, and some to God as Comforter and Teacher. It has been remarked that the Father plans, the Son executes, and the Holy Spirit applies. But I also believe they plan and work together. The distinction of _persons_ is often noted in Scripture. In Matt. iii, 16-17, we find JESUS submitting to baptism, the SPIRIT descending upon Him, while the FATHER'S voice of approval is heard saying: "This is my Beloved Son in whom I am well pleased." Again in John xiv, 16, we read: "I (_i. e._ Jesus) will pray the Father, and He shall give you another Comforter." Also in Eph. i, 18: "Through Him (_i. e._ Christ Jesus) we both (Jews and Gentiles) have access by one Spirit unto the Father." Thus we are taught the distinction of persons in the Godhead, and their inseparable union. From these and other scriptures also we learn the identity and actual existence of the Holy Spirit. If you ask do I _understand_ what is thus revealed in Scripture, I say "no." But my faith bows down before the inspired Word and I unhesitatingly believe the great things of God when even reason is blinded and the intellect confused. In addition to the teaching of God's Word, the Holy Spirit in His gracious work in the soul declares His own presence. Through His agency we are "born again," and through His indwelling we possess superhuman power. Science, falsely so called, when arrayed against the existence and presence of the Spirit of God with His people, only exposes its own folly to the contempt of those who have become "new creatures in Christ Jesus." The Holy Spirit who inspired prophets, and qualified apostles, continues to animate, guide and comfort all true believers. To the actual Christian, the personality of the Holy Spirit is more real than any theory science has to offer, for so-called science is but calculation based on human observation, and is constantly changing its inferences. But the existence of the Holy Spirit is to the child of God a matter of Scripture revelation and of actual experience. Some skeptics assert that there is no other vital energy in the world but physical force, while contrary to their assertions, thousands and tens of thousands who can not possibly be deceived have been quickened into spiritual life by a power neither physical or mental. Men who were dead in sins--drunkards who lost their will, blasphemers who lost their purity, libertines sunk in beastliness, infidels who published their shame to the world, have in numberless instances become the subjects of the Spirit's power, and are now walking in the true nobility of Christian manhood, separated by an infinite distance from their former life. Let others reject, if they will, at their own peril, this imperishable truth. I believe, and am growing more into this belief, that divine, miraculous creative power resides in the Holy Ghost. Above and beyond all natural law, yet in harmony with it, creation, providence, the Divine government, and the upbuilding of the Church of God are presided over by the Spirit of God. His ministration is the ministration of life more glorious than the ministration of law, (2 Cor. iii, 6-10). And like the Eternal Son, the Eternal Spirit having life in Himself, is working out all things after the counsel of His own will, and for the everlasting glory of the Triune Godhead. The Holy Spirit has all the qualities belonging to a person; the power to understand, to will, to do, to call, to feel, to love. This can not be said of a mere influence. He possesses attributes and qualities which can only be ascribed to a person, as acts and deeds are performed by Him which can not be performed by a machine, an influence, or a result. AGENT AND INSTRUMENT. The Holy Spirit is closely identified with the words of the Lord Jesus. "It is the Spirit that quickeneth; the flesh profiteth nothing, the words that I speak unto you, they are spirit and they are life." The Gospel proclamation can not be divorced from the Holy Spirit. Unless He attend the word in power, vain will be the attempt in preaching it. Human eloquence or persuasiveness of speech are the mere trappings of the dead, if the living Spirit be absent; the prophet may preach to the bones in the valley, but it must be the breath from Heaven which will cause the slain to live. In the third chapter of the First Epistle of Peter, it reads, "For Christ also hath once suffered for sins, the just for the unjust, that He might bring us to God, being put to death in the flesh, but quickened by the Spirit." Here we see that Christ was raised up from the grave by this same Spirit, and the power exercised to raise Christ's dead body must raise our dead souls and quicken them. No other power on earth can quicken a dead soul, but the same power that raised the body of Jesus Christ out of Joseph's sepulcher. And if we want that power to quicken our friends who are dead in sin, we must look to God, and not be looking to man to do it. If we look alone to ministers, if we look alone to Christ's disciples to do this work, we shall be disappointed; but if we look to the Spirit of God and expect it to come from Him and Him alone, then we shall honor the Spirit, and the Spirit will do His work. SECRET OF EFFICIENCY. I can not help but believe there are many Christians who want to be more efficient in the Lord's service, and the object of this book is to take up this subject of the Holy Spirit, that they may see from whom to expect this power. In the teaching of Christ, we find the last words recorded in the Gospel of Matthew, the 28th chapter and 19th verse, "Go ye, therefore, and teach all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost." Here we find that the Holy Spirit and the Son are equal with the Father--are one with Him, "teaching them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost." Christ was now handing His commission over to His Apostles. He was going to leave them. His work on earth was finished, and He was now just about ready to take His seat at the right hand of God, and He spoke unto them and said: "All power is given unto Me in heaven and on earth." All power, so then He had authority. If Christ was mere man, as some people try to make out, it would have been blasphemy for Him to have said to the disciples, go and baptize all nations in the name of the Father, and in His own name, and in that of the Holy Ghost, making Himself equal with the Father. There are three things: _All power_ is given unto Me; go _teach all_ nations. Teach them what? To _observe all_ things. There are a great many people now that are willing to observe what they like about Christ, but the things that they don't like they just dismiss and turn away from. But His commission to His disciples was, "Go teach all nations to observe all things whatsoever I have commanded you." And what right has a messenger who has been sent of God to change the message? If I had sent a servant to deliver a message, and the servant thought the message didn't sound exactly right--a little harsh--and that servant went and changed the message, I should change servants very quickly; he could not serve me any longer. And when a minister or a messenger of Christ begins to change the message because he thinks it is not exactly what it ought to be, and thinks he is wiser than God, God just dismisses that man. They haven't taught "all things." They have left out some of the things that Christ has commanded us to teach, because they didn't correspond with man's reason. Now we have to take the Word of God just as it is; and if we are going to take it, we have no authority to take out just what we like, what we think is appropriate, and let dark reason be our guide. It is the work of the Spirit to impress the heart and seal the preached word. His office is to take of the things of Christ and reveal them unto us. Some people have got an idea that this is the only dispensation of the Holy Ghost; that He didn't work until Christ was glorified. But Simeon felt the Holy Ghost when he went into the temple. In 2d Peter, i. 21, we read: "Holy men of old spake as they were moved by the Holy Ghost." We find the same Spirit in Genesis as is seen in Revelation. The same Spirit that guided the hand that wrote Exodus inspired also the epistles, and we find the same Spirit speaking from one end of the Bible to the other. So holy men in all ages have spoken as they were moved by the Holy Ghost. HIS PERSONALITY. I was a Christian a long time before I found out that the Holy Ghost was a person. Now this is something a great many don't seem to understand, but if you will just take up the Bible and see what Christ had to say about the Holy Spirit, you will find that He always spoke of Him as a person--never spoke of Him as an influence. Some people have an idea that the Holy Spirit is an attribute of God, just like mercy--just an influence coming from God. But we find in the fourteenth chapter of John, sixteenth verse, these words: "And I will pray the Father, and He shall give you another Comforter that He may abide with you forever." That _He_ may abide with you forever. And, again, in the same chapter, seventeenth verse: "Even the Spirit of Truth, whom the world can not receive, because it seeth Him not, neither knoweth Him; but ye know Him; for He dwelleth with you and shall be in you." Again, in the twenty-sixth verse of the same chapter: "But the Comforter, which is the Holy Ghost, whom the Father will send in my name, He shall teach you all things, and bring all things to your remembrance whatsoever I have said unto you." Observe the pronouns "He" and "Him." I want to call attention to this fact that whenever Christ spoke of the Holy Ghost He spoke of Him as a person, not a mere influence; and if we want to honor the Holy Ghost, let us bear in mind that He is one of the Trinity, a personality of the Godhead. THE RESERVOIR OF LOVE. We read that the fruit of the Spirit is love. God is love, Christ is love, and we should not be surprised to read about the love of the Spirit. What a blessed attribute is this. May I call it the dome of the temple of the graces. Better still, it is the crown of crowns worn by the Triune God. Human love is a natural emotion which flows forth towards the object of our affections. But Divine love is as high above human love as the heaven is above the earth. The natural man is of the earth, earthy, and however pure his love may be, it is weak and imperfect at best. But the love of God is perfect and entire, wanting nothing. It is as a mighty ocean in its greatness, dwelling with and flowing from the Eternal Spirit. In Romans v, 5, we read: "And hope maketh not ashamed, because the love of God is shed abroad in our hearts by the Holy Ghost which is given to us." Now if we are co-workers with God, there is one thing we must possess, and that is love. A man may be a very successful lawyer and have no love for his clients, and yet get on very well. A man may be a very successful physician and have no love for his patients, and yet be a very good physician; a man may be a very successful merchant and have no love for his customers, and yet he may do a good business and succeed; but no man can be a co-worker with God without love. If our service is mere profession on our part, the quicker we renounce it the better. If a man takes up God's work as he would take up any profession, the sooner he gets out of it the better. We can not work for God without love. It is the only tree that can produce fruit on this sin-cursed earth, that is acceptable to God. If I have no love for God nor for my fellow man, then I can not work acceptably. I am like sounding brass and a tinkling cymbal. We are told that "the love of God is shed abroad in our hearts by the Holy Ghost." Now, if we have had that love shed abroad in our hearts, we are ready for God's service; if we have not, we are not ready. It is so easy to reach a man when you love him; all barriers are broken down and swept away. Paul when writing to Titus, second chapter and first verse, tells him to be sound in faith, in charity, and in patience. Now in this age, ever since I can remember, the Church has been very jealous about men being unsound in the faith. If a man becomes unsound in the faith, they draw their ecclesiastical sword and cut at him; but he may be ever so unsound in love, and they don't say anything. He may be ever so defective in patience; he may be irritable and fretful all the time, but they never deal with him. Now the Bible teaches us, that we are not only to be sound in the faith, but in charity and in patience. I believe God can not use many of his servants, because they are full of irritability and impatience; they are fretting all the time, from morning until night. God can not use them; their mouths are sealed; they can not speak for Jesus Christ, and if they have not love, they can not work for God. I do not mean love for those that love me; it don't take grace to do that; the rudest Hottentot in the world can do that; the greatest heathen that ever lived can do that; the vilest man that ever walked the earth can do that. It don't take any grace at all. I did that before I ever became a Christian. Love begets love; hatred begets hatred. If I know a man loves me first, I know my love will be going out towards him. Suppose a man comes to me, saying, "Mr. Moody, a certain man told me to-day that he thought you were the meanest man living." Well, if I didn't have a good deal of the grace of God in my heart, then I know there would be hard feelings that would spring up in my heart against that man, and it would not be long before I would be talking against him. Hatred begets hatred. But suppose a man comes to me and says, "Mr. Moody, do you know that such a man that I met to-day says that he thinks a great deal of you?" and though I may never have heard of him, there would be love springing up in my heart. Love begets love; we all know that; but it takes the grace of God to love the man that lies about me, the man that slanders me, the man that is trying to tear down my character; it takes the grace of God to love that man. You may hate the sin he has committed; there is a difference between the sin and the sinner; you may hate the one with a perfect hatred, but you must love the sinner. I can not otherwise do him any good. Now you know the first impulse of a young convert is to love. Do you remember the day you were converted? Was not your heart full of sweet peace and love? THE RIGHT OVERFLOW. I remember the morning I came out of my room after I had first trusted Christ, and I thought the old sun shone a good deal brighter than it ever had before; I thought that the sun was just smiling upon me, and I walked out upon Boston Common, and I heard the birds in the trees, and I thought that they were all singing a song for me. Do you know I fell in love with the birds? I never cared for them before; it seemed to me that I was in love with all creation. I had not a bitter feeling against any man, and I was ready to take all men to my heart. If a man has not the love of God shed abroad in his heart, he has never been regenerated. If you hear a person get up in prayer-meeting, and he begins to speak and find fault with everybody, you may know that his is not a genuine conversion; that it is counterfeit; it has not the right ring, because the impulse of a converted soul is to love, and not to be getting up and complaining of every one else, and finding fault. But it is hard for us to live in the right atmosphere all the time. Some one comes along and treats us wrongly, perhaps we hate him; we have not attended to the means of grace and kept feeding on the word of God as we ought; a root of bitterness springs up in our hearts, and perhaps we are not aware of it, but it has come up in our hearts; then we are not qualified to work for God. The love of God is not shed abroad in our hearts as it ought to be by the Holy Ghost. But the work of the Holy Ghost is to impart love. Paul could say, "The love of Christ constraineth me." He could not help going from town to town and preaching the Gospel. Jeremiah at one time said: "I will speak no more in the Lord's name; I have suffered enough; these people don't like God's word." They lived in a wicked day, as we do now. Infidels were creeping up all around him, who said the word of God was not true; Jeremiah had stood like a wall of fire, confronting them, and he boldly proclaimed that the word of God was true. At last they put him in prison, and he said: "I will keep still; it has cost me too much." But a little while after, you know, he could not keep still. His bones caught fire; he had to speak. And when we are so full of the love of God, we are compelled to work for God, then God blesses us. If our work is sought to be accomplished by the lash, without any true motive power, it will come to nought. Now the question comes up, have we the love of God shed abroad in our hearts, and are we holding the truth in love? Some people hold the truth, but in such a cold stern way that it will do no good. Other people want to love everything, and so they give up much of the truth; but we are to hold the truth in love; we are to hold the truth even if we lose all, but we are to hold it in love, and if we do that, the Lord will bless us. There are a good many people trying to get this love; they are trying to produce it of themselves. But therein all fail. The love implanted deep in our new nature will be spontaneous. I don't have to learn to love my children. I can not help loving them. I said to a young miss some time ago, in an inquiry meeting, who said that she could not love God; that it was very hard for her to love Him--I said to her, "Is it hard for you to love your mother? Do you have to learn to love your mother?" And she looked up through her tears, and said, "No; I can't help it; that is spontaneous." "Well," I said, "when the Holy Spirit kindles love in your heart, you can not help loving God; it will be spontaneous." When the Spirit of God comes into your heart and mine, it will be easy to serve God. The fruit of the Spirit, as you find it in Galatians, begins with love. There are nine graces spoken of in the sixth chapter, and of the nine different graces Paul puts love at the head of the list; love is the first thing--the first in that precious cluster of fruit. Some one has put it in this way: that all the other eight can be put in the word love. Joy is love exulting; peace is love in repose; long suffering is love on trial; gentleness is love in society; goodness is love in action; faith is love on the battlefield; meekness is love at school; and temperance is love in training. So it is love all the way; love at the top; love at the bottom, and all the way along down these graces; and if we only just brought forth the fruit of the Spirit, what a world we would have; there would be no need of any policemen; a man could leave his overcoat around without some one stealing it; men would not have any desire to do evil. Says Paul, "Against such there is no law;" you don't need any law. A man who is full of the Spirit don't need to be put under law; don't need any policemen to watch him. We could dismiss all our policemen; the lawyers would have to give up practicing law, and the courts would not have any business. THE TRIUMPHS OF HOPE. In the fifteenth chapter of Romans, thirteenth verse, the Apostle says: "Now the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, that you may abound in hope through the power of the Holy Ghost." The next thing then is hope. Did you ever notice this, that no man or woman is ever used by God to build up His kingdom who has lost hope? Now, I have been observing this throughout different parts of the country, and wherever I have found a worker in God's vineyard who has lost hope, I have found a man or woman not very useful. Now, just look at these workers. Let your mind go over the past for a moment. Can you think of a man or woman whom God has used to build His kingdom who has lost hope? I don't know of any; I never heard of such an one. It is very important to have hope in the Church; and it is the work of the Holy Ghost to impart hope. Let Him come into some of the churches where there have not been any conversions for a few years, and let Him convert a score of people, and see how hopeful the Church becomes at once. He imparts hope; a man filled with the Spirit of God will be very hopeful. He will be looking out into the future, and he knows that it is all bright, because the God of all grace is able to do great things. So it is very important that we have hope. If a man has lost hope, he is out of communion with God; he has not the Spirit of God resting upon him for service; he may be a son of God, and disheartened so that he can not be used of God. Do you know there is no place in the Scriptures where it is recorded that God ever used even a discouraged man. Some years ago, in my work I was quite discouraged, and I was ready to hang my harp on the willow. I was very much cast down and depressed. I had been for weeks in that state, when one Monday morning a friend, who had a very large Bible class, came into my study. I used to examine the notes of his Sunday-school lessons, which were equal to a sermon, and he came to me this morning and said, "Well, what did you preach about yesterday?" and I told him. I said, "What did you preach about?" and he said that he preached about Noah. "Did you ever preach about Noah?" "No, I never preached about Noah." "Did you ever study his character?" "No, I never studied his life particularly." "Well," says he, "he is a most wonderful character. It will do you good. You ought to study up that character." When he went out, I took down my Bible, and read about Noah; and then it came over me that Noah worked 120 years and never had a convert, and yet he did not get discouraged; and I said, "Well, I ought not to be discouraged," and I closed my Bible, got up and walked down town, and the cloud had gone. I went down to the noon prayer-meeting, and heard of a little town in the country where they had taken into the church 100 young converts; and I said to myself, I wonder what Noah would have given if he could have heard that; and yet he worked 120 years and didn't get discouraged. And then a man right across the aisle got up and said, "My friends, I wish you to pray for me; I think I'm lost;" and I thought to myself, "I wonder what Noah would have given to hear that." He never heard a man say, "I wish you to pray for me; I think I am lost," and yet he didn't get discouraged! Oh, children of God, let us not get discouraged; let us ask God to forgive us, if we have been discouraged and cast down; let us ask God to give us hope, that we may be ever hopeful. It does me good sometimes to meet some people and take hold of their hands; they are so hopeful, while other people throw a gloom over me because they are all the time cast down, and looking at the dark side, and looking at the obstacles and difficulties that are in the way. THE BOON OF LIBERTY. The next thing the Spirit of God does is to give us liberty. He first imparts love; He next inspires hope, and then gives liberty, and that is about the last thing we have in a good many of our churches at the present day. And I am sorry to say there must be a funeral in a good many churches before there is much work done, we shall have to bury the formalism so deep that it will never have any resurrection. The last thing to be found in many a church is liberty. If the Gospel happens to be preached, the people criticise, as they would a theatrical performance. It is exactly the same, and many a professed Christian never thinks of listening to what the man of God has to say. It is hard work to preach to carnally-minded critics, but "Where the spirit of the Lord is, there is liberty." Very often a woman will hear a hundred good things in a sermon, and there may be one thing that strikes her as a little out of place, and she will go home and sit down to the table and talk right out before her children and magnify that one wrong thing, and not say a word about the hundred good things that were said. That is what people do who criticise. God does not use men in captivity. The condition of many is like Lazarus when he came out of the sepulcher bound hand and foot. The bandage was not taken off his mouth, and he could not speak. He had life, and if you had said Lazarus was not alive, you would have told a falsehood, because he was raised from the dead. There are a great many people, the moment you talk to them and insinuate they are not doing what they might, they say: "I have life. I am a Christian." Well, you can't deny it, but they are bound hand and foot. May God snap these fetters and set His children free, that they may have liberty. I believe He comes to set us free, and wants us to work for Him, and speak for Him. How many people would like to get up in a social prayer-meeting to say a few words for Christ, but there is such a cold spirit of criticism in the Church that they dare not do it. They have not the liberty to do it. If they get up, they are so frightened with these critics that they begin to tremble and sit down. They can not say anything. Now, that is all wrong. The Spirit of God comes just to give liberty, and wherever you see the Lord's work going on, you will see that Spirit of liberty. People won't be afraid of speaking to one another. And when the meeting is over they will not get their hats and see how quick they can get out of the church, but will begin to shake hands with one another, and there will be liberty there. A good many go to the prayer-meeting out of a mere cold sense of duty. They think "I must attend because I feel it is my duty." They don't think it is a glorious privilege to meet and pray, and to be strengthened, and to help some one else in the wilderness journey. What we need to-day is love in our hearts. Don't we want it? Don't we want hope in our lives? Don't we want to be hopeful? Don't we want liberty? Now, all this is the work of the Spirit of God, and let us pray God daily to give us love, and hope, and liberty. We read in Hebrews, "Having, therefore, brethren, boldness to enter into the holiest by the blood of Jesus." If you will turn to the passage and read the margin--it says: "Having, therefore, brethren, liberty to enter into the holiest." We can go into the holiest, having freedom of access, and plead for this love and liberty and glorious hope, that we may not rest until God gives us the power to work for Him. If I know my own heart to-day, I would rather die than live as I once did, a mere nominal Christian, and not used by God in building up His kingdom. It seems a poor empty life to live for the sake of self. Let us seek to be useful. Let us seek to be vessels meet for the Master's use, that God, the Holy Spirit, may shine fully through us. "Know, my soul, thy full salvation; Rise o'er sin, and fear, and care; Joy to find, in every station, Something still to do or bear. Think what Spirit dwells within thee; Think what Father's smiles are thine; Think that Jesus died to win thee: Child of heaven, canst thou repine? Haste thee on from grace to glory, Armed by faith, and winged by prayer, Heaven's eternal day's before thee: God's own hand shall guide thee there. Soon shall close thy earthly mission, Soon shall pass thy pilgrim days, Hope shall change to glad fruition, Faith to sight, and prayer to praise." "I AM so weak, dear Lord! I can not stand One moment without Thee; But oh, the tenderness of Thy enfolding, And oh, the faithfulness of Thine upholding, And oh, the strength of Thy right hand! That strength is enough for me. I am so needy, Lord! and yet I know All fullness dwells in Thee; And hour by hour that never-failing treasure Supplies and fills in overflowing measure My last and greatest need. And so Thy grace is enough for me. It is so sweet to trust Thy word alone! I do not ask to see The unveiling of Thy purpose, or the shining Of future light on mysteries untwining; Thy promise-roll is all my own-- Thy word is enough for me. There were strange soul-depths, restless, vast, and broad, Unfathomed as the sea, An infinite craving for some infinite stilling; But now Thy perfect love is perfect filling! Lord Jesus Christ, my Lord, my God, Thou, Thou art enough for me!" CHAPTER II. POWER "IN" AND "UPON." You remember that strange, half-involuntary "forty years" of Moses in the "wilderness" of Midian, when he had fled from Egypt. You remember, too, the almost equally strange years of retirement in "Arabia" by Paul, when, if ever, humanly speaking, instant action was needed. And pre-eminently you remember the amazing charge of the ascending Lord to the disciples, "Tarry at Jerusalem." Speaking after the manner of men, one could not have wondered if out-spoken Peter, or fervid James had said: "Tarry, Lord! How long?" "Tarry, Lord! is there not a perishing world, groaning for the 'good news?'" "Tarry! did we hear Thee aright, Lord? Was the word not haste?" "Nay;" "Being assembled together with them, He commanded them that they should not depart from Jerusalem, but wait for the promise of the Father." (Acts 1:4.)--_Grosart_. POWER--"IN" AND "UPON." THE Holy Spirit dwelling in us, is one thing; I think this is clearly brought out in Scripture; and the Holy Spirit upon us for service, is another thing. Now there are only three places we find in Scripture that are dwelling-places for the Holy Ghost. In the 40th chapter of Exodus, commencing with the 33d verse, are these words: "And he (that is Moses) reared up the court round about the tabernacle and the altar, and set up the hanging of the court gate. So Moses finished the work. Then a cloud covered the tent of the congregation, and the glory of the Lord filled the tabernacle. And Moses was not able to enter into the tent of the congregation, because the cloud abode thereon, and the glory of the Lord filled the tabernacle." The moment that Moses finished the work, the moment that the tabernacle was ready, the cloud came, the Shekinah glory came and filled it so that Moses was not able to stand before the presence of the Lord. I believe firmly, that the moment our hearts are emptied of pride and selfishness and ambition and self-seeking, and everything that is contrary to God's law, the Holy Ghost will come and fill every corner of our hearts; but if we are full of pride and conceit, and ambition and self-seeking, and pleasure and the world, there is no room for the Spirit of God; and I believe many a man is praying to God to fill him when he is full already with something else. Before we pray that God would fill us, I believe we ought to pray Him to empty us. There must be an emptying before there can be a filling; and when the heart is turned upside down, and everything is turned out that is contrary to God, then the Spirit will come, just as He did in the tabernacle, and fill us with His glory. We read in 2d Chronicles, 5th chapter and 13th verse: "It came even to pass, as the trumpeters and singers were as one to make one Sound, to be heard in praising and thanking the Lord, and when they lifted up their voice with the trumpets and cymbals and instruments of music, and praised the Lord, saying, For He is good; for His mercy endureth forever; that then the house was filled with a cloud, even the house of the Lord. So that the priests could not stand to minister by reason of the cloud, for the glory of the Lord had filled the house of God." PRAISING WITH ONE HEART. We find, the very moment that Solomon completed the Temple, when all was finished, they were just praising God with one heart--the choristers and the singers and the ministers were all one; there was not any discord; they were all praising God, and the glory of God came and just filled the Temple as the Tabernacle. Now, as you turn over into the New Testament, you will find, instead of coming to Tabernacles and Temples, believers are now the Temple of the Holy Ghost. When, on the day of Pentecost, before Peter preached that memorable sermon, as they were praying, the Holy Ghost came, and came in mighty power. We now pray for the Spirit of God to come, and we sing: "Come, Holy Spirit, heavenly dove, With all thy quickening power; Kindle a flame of heavenly love In these cold hearts of ours," I believe, if we understand it, it is perfectly right; but if we are praying for Him to come out of heaven down to earth again, that is wrong, because He is already here; He has not been out of this earth for 1800 years; He has been in the Church, and He is with all believers; the believers in the Church are the called-out ones; they are called out from the world, and every true believer is a Temple for the Holy Ghost to dwell in. In the 14th chapter of John, 17th verse, we have the words of Jesus: "The Spirit of Truth, whom the world can not receive, because it seeth Him not, neither knoweth Him; but ye know Him, for He dwelleth in you." "Greater is He that is in you than He that is in the world." If we have the Spirit dwelling in us, He gives us power over the flesh and the world, and over every enemy. "He is dwelling with you, and shall be in you." Read 1st Corinthians iii, 16: "Know ye not that ye are the temple of God, and that the Spirit of God dwelleth in you?" There were some men burying an aged saint some time ago, and he was very poor, like many of God's people, poor in this world, but they are very rich, they have all the riches on the other side of life--they have them laid up there where thieves can not get them, and where sharpers can not take them away from them, and where moth can not corrupt--so this aged man was very rich in the other world, and they were just hastening him off to the grave, wanting to get rid of him, when an old minister, who was officiating at the grave, said, "Tread softly, for you are carrying the temple of the Holy Ghost." Whenever you see a believer, you see a temple of the Holy Ghost. In 1 Cor. vi, 19, 20, we read again: "Know ye not that your body is the temple of the Holy Ghost which is in you, which ye have of God, and ye are not your own for ye are bought with a price, therefore glorify God in your body and in your spirit, which are God's." Thus are we taught that there is a divine resident in every child of God. I think it is clearly taught in the Scripture that every believer has the Holy Ghost dwelling in him. He may be quenching the Spirit of God, and he may not glorify God as he should, but if he is a believer on the Lord Jesus Christ, the Holy Ghost dwells in him. But I want to call your attention to another fact. I believe to-day, that though Christian men and women have the Holy Spirit dwelling in them, yet He is not dwelling within them in power; in other words, God has a great many sons and daughters without power. WHAT IS NEEDED. Nine-tenths, at least, of the church members never think of speaking for Christ. If they see a man, perhaps a near relative, just going right down to ruin, going rapidly, they never think of speaking to him about his sinful course and of seeking to win him to Christ. Now certainly there must be something wrong. And yet when you talk with them you find they have faith, and you can not say they are not children of God; but they have not the power, they have not the liberty, they have not the love that real disciples of Christ should have. A great many people are thinking that we need new measures, that we need new churches, that we need new organs, and that we need new choirs, and all these new things. That is not what the Church of God needs to-day. It is the old power that the Apostles had; that is what we want, and if we have that in our churches, there will be new life. Then we will have new ministers--the same old ministers renewed with power; filled with the Spirit. I remember when in Chicago many were toiling in the work, and it seemed as though the car of salvation didn't move on, when a minister began to cry out from the very depths of his heart, "Oh, God, put new ministers in every pulpit." On next Monday I heard two or three men stand up and say, "We had a new minister last Sunday--the same old minister, but he had got new power," and I firmly believe that is what we want to-day all over America. We want new ministers in the pulpit and new people in the pews. We want people quickened by the Spirit of God, and the Spirit coming down and taking possession of the children of God and giving them power. Then a man filled with the Spirit will know how to use "the sword of the Spirit." If a man is not filled with the Spirit, he will never know now to use the Book. We are told that this is the sword of the Spirit; and what is an army good for that does not know how to use its weapons? Suppose a battle going on, and I were a general and had a hundred thousand men, great, able-bodied men, full of life, but they could not one of them handle a sword, and not one of them knew how to use his rifle, what would that army be good for? Why, one thousand well-drilled men, with good weapons, would rout the whole of them. The reason why the Church can not overcome the enemy is, because she don't know how to use the sword of the Spirit. People will get up and try to fight the devil with their experiences, but he don't care for that, he will overcome them every time. People are trying to fight the devil with theories and pet ideas, but he will get the victory over them likewise. What we want is to draw the sword of the Spirit. It is that which cuts deeper than anything else. Turn in your Bibles to Eph. vi, 14: "Stand, therefore, having your loins girt about with truth, and having on the breastplate of righteousness; and your feet shod with the preparation of the gospel of peace; above all (or over all), taking the shield of faith, wherewith ye shall be able to quench all the fiery darts of the wicked. And take the helmet of salvation and the sword of the Spirit, which is the Word of God." THE GREATEST WEAPON. The sword of the Spirit is the Word of God, and what we need specially is to be filled with the Spirit, so we shall know how to use the Word. There was a Christian man talking to a skeptic, who was using the Word, and the skeptic said, "I don't believe, sir, in that Book." But the man went right on and he gave him more of the Word; and the man again remarked, "I don't believe the Word," but he kept giving him more, and at last the man was reached. And the brother added, "When I have proved a good sword which does the work of execution, I would just keep right on using it." That is what we want. Skeptics and infidels may say they don't believe in it. It is not our work to make them believe in it; that is the work of the Spirit. Our work is to give them the Word of God; not to preach our theories and our ideas about it, but just to deliver the message as God gives it to us. We read in the Scriptures of the sword of the Lord and Gideon. Suppose Gideon had gone out without the Word, he would have been defeated. But the Lord used Gideon; and I think you find all through the Scriptures, God takes up and uses human instruments. You can not find, I believe, a case in the Bible where a man is converted without God calling in some human agency--using some human instrument; not but what He can do it in His independent sovereignty; there is no doubt about that. Even when by the revealed glory of the Lord Jesus, Saul of Tarsus was smitten to the earth, Annanias was used to open his eyes and lead him into the light of the Gospel. I heard a man once say, if you put a man on a mountain peak, higher than one of the Alpine peaks, God could save him without a human messenger; but that is not His way; that is not His method; but it is "the sword of the Lord and Gideon"; and the Lord and Gideon will do the work; and if we are just willing to let the Lord use us, He will. "NONE OF SELF." Then you will find all through the Scriptures, when men were filled with the Holy Spirit, they preached Christ and not themselves. They preached Christ and Him crucified. It says in the first chapter of Luke, 67th verse, speaking of Zacharias, the father of John the Baptist: "And his father, Zacharias, was filled with the Holy Ghost, and prophesied, saying: Blessed be the Lord God of Israel, for He hath visited and redeemed His people, and hath raised up an horn of salvation for us in the house of His servant David. As He spake by the mouth of His Holy prophets, which have been since the world began." See, he is talking about the Word. If a man is filled with the Spirit, he will magnify the Word; he will preach the Word, and not himself; he will give this lost world the Word of the living God. "And thou, child, shalt be called the prophet of the Highest; for thou shalt go before the face of the Lord to prepare His ways. To give knowledge of salvation unto His people by the remission of their sins, through the tender mercy of our God, whereby the day-spring from on high hath visited us. To give light to them that sit in darkness and in the shadow of death, to guide our feet into the way of peace. And the child grew and waxed strong in spirit, and was in the deserts till the day of his showing unto Israel." And so we find again that when Elizabeth and Mary met, they talked of the Scriptures, and they were both filled with the Holy Ghost, and at once began to talk of their Lord. We also find that Simeon, as he came into the temple and found the young child Jesus there, at once began to quote the Scriptures, for the Spirit was upon him. And when Peter stood up on the day of Pentecost, and preached that wonderful sermon, it is said he was filled with the Holy Ghost, and began to preach the Word to the multitude, and it was the Word that cut them. It was the sword of the Lord and Peter, the same as it was the sword of the Lord and Gideon. And we find it says of Stephen, "They were not able to resist the spirit and wisdom by which he spake." Why? Because he gave them the Word of God. And we are told that the Holy Ghost came on Stephen, and none could resist his word. And we read, too, that Paul was full of the Holy Spirit, and that he preached Christ and Him crucified, and that many people were added to the Church. Barnabas was full of faith and the Holy Ghost; and if you will just read and find out what he preached, you will find it was the Word, and many were added to the Lord. So that when a man is full of the Spirit, he begins to preach, not himself, but Christ, as revealed in the Holy Scriptures. The disciples of Jesus were all filled with the Spirit, and the Word was published; and when the Spirit of God comes down upon the Church, and we are anointed, the Word will be published in the streets, in the lanes, and in the alleys; there will not be a dark cellar nor a dark attic, nor a home where the Gospel will not be carried by some loving heart, if the Spirit comes upon God's people in demonstration and in power. SPIRITUAL IRRIGATION. It is possible a man may just barely have life and be satisfied; and I think that a great many are in that condition. In the 3d chapter of John we find that Nicodemus came to Christ and that he received life. At first this life was feeble. You don't hear of him standing up confessing Christ boldly, and of the Spirit coming upon him in great power, though possessing life through faith in Christ. And then turn to the 4th chapter of John, and you will find it speaks of the woman coming to the well of Samaria, and Christ held out the cup of salvation to her and she took it and drank, and it became in her "a well of water springing up into everlasting life." That is better than in the 3d chapter of John; here it came down in a flood into her soul; as some one has said, it came down from the throne of God, and like a mighty current carried her back to the throne of God. Water always rises to its level, and if we get the soul filled with water from the throne of God it will bear us upward to its source. But if you want to get the best class of Christian life portrayed, turn to the 7th chapter and you will find that it says he that receiveth the Spirit, through trusting in the Lord Jesus, "out of him shall flow rivers of living water." Now there are two ways of digging a well. I remember, when a boy, upon a farm, in New England, they had a well, and they put in an old wooden pump, and I used to have to pump the water from that well upon wash-day, and to water the cattle; and I had to pump and pump and pump until my arm got tired, many a time. But they have a better way now; they don't dig down a few feet and brick up the hole and put the pump in, but they go down through the clay and the sand and the rock, and on down until they strike what they call a lower stream, and then it becomes an artesian well, which needs no labor, as the water rises spontaneously from the depths beneath. Now I think God wants all His children to be a sort of artesian well; not to keep pumping, but to flow right out. Why, haven't you seen ministers in the pulpit just pumping, and pumping and pumping? I have, many a time, and I have had to do it, too. I know how it is. They stand in the pulpit and talk and talk and talk, and the people go to sleep, they can't arouse them. What is the trouble? Why, the living water is not there; they are just pumping when there is no water in the well. You can't get water out of a dry well; you have to get something in the well, or you can't get anything out. I have seen these wooden pumps where you had to pour water into them before you could pump any water out, and so it is with a good many people; you have to get something in them before you can get any out. People wonder why it is that they have no Spiritual power. They stand up and talk in meeting, and don't say anything; they say they haven't anything to say, and you find it out soon enough; they need not state it; but they just talk, because they feel it is a duty, and say nothing. Now I tell you when the Spirit of God is on us for service, resting upon us, we are anointed, and then we can do great things. "I will pour water on him that is thirsty," says God. O, blessed thought--"He that hungers and thirsts after righteousness shall be filled!" OUTFLOWING STREAMS. I would like to see some one just full of living water; so full that they couldn't contain it; that they would have to go out and publish the Gospel of the grace of God. When a man gets so full that he can't hold any more, then he is just ready for God's service. When preaching in Chicago, Dr. Gibson remarked in the inquiry meeting, "Now, how can we find out who is thirsty?" Said he, "I was just thinking how we could find out. If a boy should come down the aisle, bringing a good pail full of clear water, and a dipper, we would soon find out who was thirsty; we would see thirsty men and women reach out for water; but if you should walk down the aisle with an empty bucket, you wouldn't find it out. People would look in and see that there was no water, and say nothing." So said he, "I think that is the reason we are not more blessed in our ministry; we are carrying around empty buckets, and the people see that we have not anything in them, and they don't come forward." I think that there is a good deal of truth in that. People see that we are carrying around empty buckets, and they will not come to us until they are filled. They see we haven't any more than they have. We must have the Spirit of God resting upon us, and then we will have something that gives the victory over the world, the flesh, and the devil; something that gives the victory over our tempers, over our conceits, and over every other evil, and when we can trample these sins under our feet, then people will come to us and say, "How did you get it? I need this power; you have something that I haven't got; I want it." O, may God show us this truth. Have we been toiling all night? let us throw the net on the right side; let us ask God to forgive our sins, and anoint us with power from on high. But remember, He is not going to give this power to an impatient man; He is not going to give it to a selfish man; He will never give it to an ambitious man whose aim is selfish, till first emptied of self; emptied of pride and of all worldly thoughts. Let it be God's glory and not our own that we seek, and when we get to that point, how speedily the Lord will bless us for good. Then will the measure of our blessing be full. Do you know what heaven's measure is? Good measure, pressed down, shaken together, and running over. If we get our heart filled with the Word of God, how is Satan going to get in? How is the world going to get in, for heaven's measure is good measure, full measure, running over. Have you this fullness? If you have not, then seek it; say by the grace of God you will have it, for it is the Father's good pleasure to give us these things. He wants us to shine down in this world; He wants to lift us up for His work; He wants us to have the power to testify for His Son. He has left us in this world to testify for Him. What did He leave us for? Not to buy and sell and to get gain, but to glorify Christ. How are you going to do it without the Spirit? That is the question. How are you to do it without the power of God? WHY SOME FAIL. We read in John xx, 22: "And when He had said this, He breathed on them, and saith unto them, Receive ye the Holy Ghost." Then see Luke xxiv, 49: "And, behold, I send the promise of my Father upon you; but tarry ye in the city of Jerusalem until ye be endued with power from on high." The first passage tells us He had raised those pierced and wounded hands over them and breathed upon them and said, "Receive ye the Holy Ghost." And I haven't a doubt they received it then, but not in such mighty power as afterward when qualified for their work. It was not in fullness that He gave it to them then, but if they had been like a good many now, they would have said, "I have enough now; I am not going to tarry; I am going to work." Some people seem to think they are losing time if they wait on God for his power, and so away they go and work without unction; they are working without any anointing, they are working without any power. But after Jesus had said "Receive ye the Holy Ghost," and had breathed on them, He said: "Now you tarry in Jerusalem until you be endued with power from on high." Read in the 1st chapter of Acts, 8th verse: "But ye shall receive power, after that the Holy Ghost is come upon you." Now, the Spirit had been given them certainly or they could not have believed, and they could not have taken their stand for God and gone through what they did, and endured the scoffs and frowns of their friends, if they had not been converted by the power of the Holy Ghost. But now just see what Christ said: "Ye shall receive power after that the Holy Ghost is come upon you; and ye shall be witnesses unto me both in Jerusalem and in all Judea, and in Samaria, and unto the uttermost parts of the earth." Then, the Holy Spirit IN US is one thing, and the Holy Spirit ON US is another; and if these Christians had gone out and went right to preaching then and there, without the power, do you think that scene would have taken place on the day of Pentecost? Don't you think that Peter would have stood up there and beat against the air, while these Jews would have gnashed their teeth and mocked him? But they tarried in Jerusalem; they waited ten days. What! you say. What, the world perishing and men dying! Shall I wait? Do what God tells you. There is no use in running before you are sent; there is no use in attempting to do God's work without God's power. A man working without this unction, a man working without this anointing, a man working without the Holy Ghost upon him, is losing his time after all. So we are not going to lose anything if we tarry till we get this power. That is the object of true service, to wait on God, to tarry till we receive this power for witness-bearing. Then we find that on the day of Pentecost, ten days after Jesus Christ was glorified, the Holy Spirit descended in power. Do you think that Peter and James and John and those apostles doubted it from that very hour? They never doubted it. Perhaps some question the possibility of having the power of God now, and that the Holy Spirit never came afterward in similar manifestation, and will never come again in such power. FRESH SUPPLIES. Turn to Acts iv, 31, and you will find He came a second time, and at a place where they were, so that the earth was shaken, and they were filled with this power. The fact is, we are leaky vessels, and we have to keep right under the fountain all the time to keep full of Christ, and so have a fresh supply. I believe this is a mistake a great many of us are making; we are trying to do God's work with the grace God gave us ten years ago. We say, if it is necessary, we will go on with the same grace. Now, what we want is a fresh supply, a fresh anointing and fresh power, and if we seek it, and seek it with all our hearts, we will obtain it. The early converts were taught to look for that power. Philip went to Samaria, and news reached Jerusalem that there was a great work being done in Samaria, and many converts; and John and Peter went down, and they laid their hands on them, and they received the Holy Ghost for service. I think that is what we Christians ought to be looking for--the Spirit of God for service--that God may use us mightily in the building up of His Church and hastening His glory. In Acts xix we read of twelve men at Ephesus, who, when the inquiry was made if they had received the Holy Ghost since they believed, answered: "We have not so much as heard whether there be any Holy Ghost." I venture to say there are very many, who, if you were to ask them, "Have you received the Holy Ghost since you believed?" would reply, "I don't know what you mean by that." They would be like the twelve men down at Ephesus, who had never understood the peculiar relation of the Spirit to the sons of God in this dispensation. I firmly believe that the Church has just laid this knowledge aside, mislaid it somewhere, and so Christians are without power. Sometimes you can take one hundred members into the Church, and they don't add to its power. Now that is all wrong. If they were only anointed by the Spirit of God, there would be great power if one hundred saved ones were added to the Church. GREEN FIELDS. When I was out in California, the first time I went down from the Sierra Nevada Mountains and dropped into the Valley of the Sacramento, I was surprised to find on one farm that everything about it was green--all the trees and flowers, everything was blooming, and everything was green and beautiful, and just across the hedge everything was dried up, and there was not a green thing there, and I could not understand it; I made inquiries, and I found that the man that had everything green, irrigated; he just poured the water right on, and he kept everything green, while the fields that were next to his were as dry as Gideon's fleece without a drop of dew; and so it is with a great many in the Church to-day. They are like these farms in California--a dreary desert, everything parched and desolate, and apparently no life in them. They can sit next to a man who is full of the Spirit of God, who is like a green bay tree, and who is bringing forth fruit, and yet they will not seek a similar blessing. Well, why this difference? Because God has poured water on him that was thirsty; that is the difference. One has been seeking this anointing, and he has received it; and when we want this above everything else God will surely give it to us. The great question before us now is, _Do_ we want it? I remember when I first went to England and gave a Bible reading, I think about the first that I gave in that country, a great many ministers were there, and I didn't know anything about English theology, and I was afraid I should run against their creeds, and I was a little hampered, especially on this very subject, about the gift of the Holy Spirit for service. I remember particularly a Christian minister there who had his head bowed on his hand, and I thought the good man was ashamed of everything I was saying, and of course that troubled me. At the close of my address he took his hat and away he went, and then I thought, "Well, I shall never see him again." At the next meeting I looked all around for him and he wasn't there, and at the next meeting I looked again, but he was absent; and I thought my teaching must have given him offense. But a few days after that, at a large noon prayer meeting, a man stood up and his face shone as if he had been up in the mountain with God, and I looked at him, and to my great joy it was this brother. He said he was at that Bible reading, and he heard there was such a thing as having fresh power to preach the Gospel; he said he made up his mind that if that was for him he would have it; he said he went home and looked to the Master, and that he never had such a battle with himself in his life. He asked that God would show him the sinfulness of his heart that he knew nothing about, and he just cried mightily to God that he might be emptied of himself and filled with the Spirit, and he said, "God has answered my prayer." I met him in Edinburgh six months from that date, and he told me he had preached the Gospel every night during that time, that he had not preached one sermon but that some remained for conversation, and that he had engagements four months ahead to preach the Gospel every night in different churches. I think you could have fired a cannon ball right through his church and not hit any one before he got this anointing; but it was not thirty days before the building was full and aisles crowded. He had his bucket filled full of fresh water, and the people found it out and came flocking to him from every quarter. I tell you, you can't get the stream higher than the fountain. What we need very specially is power. There was another man whom I have in my mind, and he said, "I have heart disease, I can't preach more than once a week," so he had a colleague to preach for him and do the visiting. He was an old minister, and he couldn't do any visiting. He had heard of this anointing, and said, "I would like to be anointed for my burial. I would like before I go hence to have just one more privilege to preach the Gospel with power." He prayed that God would fill him with the Spirit, and I met him not long after that, and he said, "I have preached on an average eight times a week, and I have had conversions all along." The Spirit came on him. I don't believe that man broke down at first with hard work, so much as with using the machinery without oil, without lubrication. It is not the hard work breaks down ministers, but it is the toil of working without power. Oh, that God may anoint His people! Not the ministry only, but every disciple. Do not suppose pastors are the only laborers needing it. There is not a mother but needs it in her house to regulate her family, just as much as the minister needs it in the pulpit or the Sunday-school teacher needs it in his Sunday-school. We all need it together, and let us not rest day nor night until we possess it; if that is the uppermost thought in our hearts, God will give it to us if we just hunger and thirst for it, and say, "God helping me, I will not rest until endued with power from on high." MASTER AND SERVANT. There is a very sweet story of Elijah and Elisha, and I love to dwell upon it. The time had come for Elijah to be taken up, and he said to Elisha, "You stay here at Gilgal, and I will go up to Bethel." There was a theological seminary there, and some young students, and he wanted to see how they were getting along; but Elisha said, "As the Lord liveth, and thy soul liveth, I will not leave thee." And so Elisha just kept close to Elijah. They came to Bethel, and the sons of the prophets came out and said to Elisha, "Do you know that your master is to be taken away?" And Elisha said, "I know it; but you keep still." Then Elijah said to Elisha, "You remain at Bethel until I go to Jericho." But Elisha said, "As the Lord liveth and my soul liveth, I will not leave thee." "You shall not go without me," says Elisha; and then I can imagine that Elisha just put his arm in that of Elijah, and they walked down together. I can see those two mighty men walking down to Jericho, and when they arrived there, the sons of the prophets came and said to Elisha, "Do you know that your master is to be taken away?" "Hush! keep still," says Elisha, "I know it." And then Elijah said to Elisha, "Tarry here awhile; for the Lord hath sent me to Jordan." But Elisha said, "As the Lord liveth and my soul liveth, I will not leave thee. You shall not go without me." And then Elisha came right close to Elijah, and as they went walking down, I imagine Elisha was after something; when they came to the Jordan, Elijah took off his mantle and struck the waters, and they separated hither and thither, and the two passed through like giants, dry-shod, and fifty sons of the prophets came to look at them and watch them. They didn't know but Elijah would be taken up right in their sight. As they passed over Jordan, Elijah said to Elisha, "Now, what do you want?" He knew he was after something. "What can I do for you. Just make your request known." And he said, "I would like a double portion of thy Spirit." I can imagine now that Elijah had given him a chance to ask; he said to himself, "I will ask for enough." Elisha had a good deal of the Spirit, but, says he, "I want a double portion of thy Spirit." "Well," says Elijah, "if you see me when I am taken up, you shall have it." Do you think you could have enticed Elisha from Elijah at that moment? I can almost see the two arm in arm, walking along, and as they walked, there came along the chariot of fire, and before Elisha knew it, Elijah was caught up, and as he went sweeping towards the throne, the servant cried, "My Father! My Father! The chariot of Israel and the horsemen thereof!" Elisha saw him no more. He picked up Elijah's fallen mantle, and returning with that old mantle of his master's, he came to the Jordan and cried for Elijah's God, and the waters separated hither and thither, and he passed through dry-shod. Then the watching prophets lifted up their voices and said, "The Spirit of Elijah is upon Elisha;" and so it was, a double portion of it. May the Spirit of Elijah, beloved reader, be upon us. If we seek for it we will have it. Oh, may the God of Elijah answer by fire, and consume the spirit of worldliness in the churches, burn up the dross, and make us whole-hearted Christians. May that Spirit come upon us; let that be our prayer in our family altars and in our closets. Let us cry mightily to God that we may have a double portion of the Holy Spirit, and that we may not rest satisfied with this worldly state of living, but let us, like Sampson, shake ourselves and come out from the world, that we may have the power of God. CHAPTER III. WITNESSING IN POWER. A man may as well hew marble without tools, or paint without colors or instruments, or build without materials, as perform any acceptable service without the graces of the Spirit, which are both the materials and the instruments in the work.--_Alleine_. If we do not have the Spirit of God, it were better to shut the churches, to nail up the doors, to put a black cross on them, and say, "God have mercy on us!" If you ministers have not the Spirit of God, you had better not preach, and you people had better stay at home. I think I speak not too strongly when I say that a church in the land without the Spirit of God is rather a curse than a blessing. If you have not the Spirit of God, Christian worker, remember that you stand in somebody else's way; you are as a tree bearing no fruit standing where another fruitful tree might grow. This is solemn work; the Holy Spirit or nothing, and worse than nothing. Death and condemnation to a church that is not yearning after the Spirit, and crying and groaning until the Spirit has wrought mightily in her midst. He is here; He has never gone back since He descended at Pentecost. He is often grieved and vexed, for He is peculiarly jealous and sensitive, and the one sin never forgiven has to do with His blessed person; therefore let us be very tender towards Him, walk humbly before Him, wait on Him very earnestly, and resolve that about us there should be nothing knowingly continued which should prevent Him dwelling in us, and being with us henceforth and for, ever. Brethren, peace be unto you and your spirit!--_Spurgeon_. WITNESSING IN POWER. THE subject of witness-bearing in the power of the Holy Ghost is not sufficiently understood by the Church. Until we have more intelligence on this point we are laboring under great disadvantage. Now, if you will take your Bible and turn to the 15th chapter of John and the 26th verse, you will find these words: "But when the Comforter is come, whom I will send unto you from the Father, even the Spirit of Truth, which proceedeth from the Father, He shall testify of me; and ye also shall bear witness, because ye have been with me from the beginning." Here we find what the Spirit is going to do, or what Christ said He would do when He came; namely, that He should testify of Him. And if you will turn over to the second chapter of Acts you will find that when Peter stood up on the day of Pentecost, and testified of what Christ had done, the Holy Spirit came down and bore witness to that fact, and men were convicted by hundreds and by thousands. So then man can not preach effectively of himself. He must have the Spirit of God to give ability, and study God's Word in order to testify according to the mind of the Spirit. WHAT IS THE TESTIMONY? If we keep back the Gospel of Christ and do not bring Christ before the people, then the Spirit has not the opportunity to work. But the moment Peter stood up on the day of Pentecost and bore testimony to this one fact, that Christ died for sin, and that He had been raised again, and ascended into heaven--the Spirit came down to bear witness to the Person and Work of Christ. He came down to bear witness to the fact that Christ was in heaven, and if it was not for the Holy Ghost bearing witness to the preaching of the facts of the Gospel, do you think that the Church would have lived during these last eighteen centuries? Do you believe that Christ's death, resurrection and ascension would not have been forgotten as soon as His birth, if it had not been for the fact that the Holy Spirit had come? Because it is very clear, that when John made his appearance on the borders of the wilderness, they had forgotten all about the birth of Jesus Christ. Just thirty short years. It was all gone. They had forgotten the story of the Shepherds; they had forgotten the wonderful scene that took place in the temple, when the Son of God was brought into the temple and the older prophets and prophetesses were there; they had forgotten about the wise men coming to Jerusalem to inquire where He was that was born King of the Jews. That story of His birth seemed to have just faded away; they had forgotten all about it, and when John made his appearance on the borders of the wilderness it was brought back to their minds. And if it had not been for the Holy Ghost coming down to bear witness to Christ, to testify of His death and resurrection, these facts would have been forgotten as soon as His birth. GREATER WORK. The witness of the Spirit is the witness of power. Jesus said, "The works that I do shall ye do also, and greater works than these shall ye do because I go to the Father." I used to stumble over that. I didn't understand it. I thought, what greater work could any man do than Christ had done? How could any one raise a dead man who had been laid away in the sepulcher for days, and who had already begun to turn back to dust; how with a word could he call him forth? But the longer I live the more I am convinced it is a greater thing to influence a man's will; a man whose will is set against God; to have that will broken and brought into subjection to God's will--or, in other words, it is a greater thing to have power over a living, sinning, God-hating man, than to quicken the dead. He who could create a world could speak a dead soul into life; but I think the greatest miracle this world has ever seen was the miracle at Pentecost. Here were men who surrounded the Apostles, full of prejudice, full of malice, full of bitterness, their hands, as it were, dripping with the blood of the Son of God, and yet an unlettered man, a man whom they detested, a man whom they hated, stands up there and preaches the Gospel, and three thousand of them are immediately convicted and converted, and become disciples of the Lord Jesus Christ, and are willing to lay down their lives for the Son of God. It may have been on that occasion that Stephen was converted, the first martyr, and some of the men who soon after gave up their lives for Christ. This seems to me the greatest miracle this world has ever seen. But Peter did not labor alone; the Spirit of God was with him; hence the marvelous results. The Jewish law required that there should be two witnesses, and so we find that when Peter preached there was a second witness. Peter testified of Christ, and Christ says when the Holy Spirit comes He will testify of Me. And they both bore witness to the verities of our Lord's incarnation, ministry, death, and resurrection, and the result was that a multitude turned as with one heart unto the Lord. Our failure now is, that preachers ignore the Cross, and veil Christ with sapless sermons and superfine language. They don't just present Him to the people plainly, and that is why, I believe, that the Spirit of God don't work with power in our churches. What we need is to preach Christ and present Him to a perishing world. The world can get on very well without you and me, but the world can not get on without Christ, and therefore we must testify of Him, and the world, I believe, to-day is just hungering and thirsting for this divine, satisfying portion. Thousands and thousands are sitting in darkness, knowing not of this great Light, but when we begin to preach Christ honestly, faithfully, sincerely and truthfully; holding Him up, not ourselves; exalting Christ and not our theories; presenting Christ and not our opinions; advocating Christ and not some false doctrine; then the Holy Ghost will come and bear witness. He will testify that what we say is true. When He comes He will confirm the Word with signs following. This is one of the strongest proofs that our Gospel is Divine; that it is of Divine origin; that not only did Christ teach these things, but when leaving the world He said, "He shall glorify Me," and "He will testify of Me." If you will just look at the second chapter of Acts--to that wonderful sermon that Peter preached--the thirty-sixth verse, you read these words: "Therefore let all the house of Israel know assuredly that God hath made that same Jesus whom ye crucified, both Lord and Christ." And when Peter said this the Holy Ghost descended upon the people and testified of Christ--bore witness in signal demonstration that all this was true. And again, in the fortieth verse, "And with many other words did He testify and exhort, saying, Save yourselves from this untoward generation." With many other words did He testify, not only these words that have been recorded, but many other words. THE SURE GUIDE. Turn to the sixteenth chapter of John, in the thirteenth verse, and read: "Howbeit, when He, the Spirit of Truth is come, He will guide you into all truth; for He shall not speak of Himself; but whatsoever He shall hear that shall He speak; and He will show you things to come." He will guide you into all truth. Now there is not a truth that we ought to know but the Spirit of God will guide us into it if we will let Him; if we will yield ourselves up to be directed by the Spirit, and let Him lead us, He will guide us into all truth. It would have saved us from a great many dark hours if we had only been willing to let the Spirit of God be our counsellor and guide. Lot never would have gone to Sodom if he had been guided by the Spirit of God. David never would have fallen into sin and had all that trouble with his family if he had been guided by the Spirit of God. There are many Lots and Davids now-a-day. The churches are full of them. Men and women are in total darkness, because they have not been willing to be guided by the Spirit of God. "He shall guide you into all truth. He shall not speak of Himself." He shall speak of the ascended glorified Christ. What would be thought of a messenger, entrusted by an absent husband with a message for his wife or mother who, on arrival, only talked of himself, and his conceits, and ignored both the husband and the message? You would simply call it outrageous. What then must be the crime of the professed teacher who speaks of himself, or some insipid theory, leaving out Christ and His Gospel? If we witness according to the Spirit, we must witness of Jesus. The Holy Spirit is down here in this dark world to just speak of the Absent One, and He takes the things of Christ and brings them to our mind. He testifies of Christ; He guides us into the truth about Him. RAPPINGS IN THE DARK. I want to say right here, that I think in this day a great many children of God are turning aside and committing a grievous sin. I don't know as they think it is a sin, but if we examine the Scriptures, I am sure we will find that it is a great sin. We are told that the Comforter is sent into the world to "guide us into all truth," and if He is sent for that purpose, do we need any other guide? Need we hide in the darkness, consulting with mediums, who profess to call up the spirits of the dead? Do you know what the Word of God pronounces against that fearful sin? I believe it is one of the greatest sins we have to contend with at the present day. It is dishonoring to the Holy Spirit for me to go and summon up the dead and confer with them, even if it were possible. I would like you to notice the 10th chapter of 1st Chronicles, and 13th verse: "So Saul died for his transgression which he had committed against the Lord, even against the Word of the Lord, which he kept not, and also for asking counsel of one that had a familiar spirit, to inquire of it; and inquired not of the Lord: therefore He slew him, and turned the kingdom unto David the son of Jesse." God slew him for this very sin. Of the two sins that are brought against Saul here, one is that he would not listen to the Word of God, and the second is that he consulted a familiar spirit. He was snared by this great evil, and sinned against God. Saul fell right here, and there are a great many of God's professed children to-day who think there is no harm in consulting a medium who pretends to call up some of the departed to inquire of them. But how dishonoring it is to God who has sent the Holy Spirit into this world to guide us "into all truth." There is not a thing that I need to know, there is not a thing that is important for me to know; there is not a thing that I ought to know but the Spirit of God will reveal it to me through the Word of God, and if I turn my back upon the Holy Spirit, I am dishonoring the Spirit of God, and I am committing a grievous sin. You know we read in Luke, where that rich man in the other world wanted to have some one sent to his father's house to warn his five brothers, Christ said They have Moses and the prophets, and if they will not hear them, they will not hear one though he rose from the dead. Moses and the prophets, the part of the Bible then completed, that is enough. But a great many people now want something besides the Word of God, and are turning aside to these false lights. SPIRITS THAT PEEP AND MUTTER. There is another passage which reads, "And when they shall say unto you, seek unto them that have familiar spirits, and unto wizards that peep and mutter: Should not a people seek unto their God? for the living to the dead?" What is that but table-rapping, and cabinet-hiding? If it was a message from God, do you think you would have to go into a dark room and put out all the lights? In secret my Master taught nothing. God is not in that movement, and what we want, as children of God, is to keep ourselves from this evil. And then notice, the verse following, quoted so often out of its connection. "To the law and to the testimony; if they speak not according to this word, it is because there is no light in them." Any man, any woman, who comes to us with any doctrine that is not according to the law and the testimony, let us understand that they are from the evil one, and that they are enemies of righteousness. They have no light in them. Now you will find these people who are consulting familiar spirits, first and last, attack the Word of God. They don't believe it. Still a great many people say, you must hear both sides--but if a man should write me a most slanderous letter about my wife, I don't think I would have to read it; I should tear it up and throw it to the winds. Have I to read all the infidel books that are written, to hear both sides? Have I to take up a book that is a slander on my Lord and Master, who has redeemed me with His blood? Ten thousand times No; I will not touch it. "Now the Spirit speaketh expressly, that in the latter times some shall depart from the faith, giving heed to seducing spirits, and doctrines of devils." 1 Tim., iv, 1. That is pretty plain language, isn't it? "Doctrines of devils." Again, "speaking lies in hypocrisy; having their consciences seared with a hot iron." There are other passages of Scripture warning against every delusion of Satan. Let us ever remember the Spirit has been sent into the world to guide us into all truth. We don't want any other guide; He is enough. Some people say, "Is not conscience a safer guide than the Word and the Spirit?" No, it is not. Some people don't seem to have any conscience, and don't know what it means. Their education has a good deal to do with conscience. There are persons who will say that their conscience did not tell them that they had done wrong until after the wrong was done; but what we want, is something to tell us a thing is wrong before we do it. Very often a man will go and commit some awful crime, and after it is done his conscience will wake up and lash and scourge him, and then it is too late, the act is done. THE UNERRING GUIDE. I am told by people who have been over the Alps, that the guide fastens them, if they are going in a dangerous place, right to himself, and he just goes on before; they are fastened to the guide. And so should the Christian be linked to His unerring Guide, and be safely upheld. Why, if a man was going through the Mammoth Cave, it would be death to him if he strayed away from his guide--if separated from him, he would certainly perish; there are pitfalls in that cave and a bottomless river, and there would be no chance for a man to find his way through that cave without a guide or a light. So there is no chance for us to get through the dark wilderness of this world alone. It is folly for a man or woman to think that they can get through this evil world without the light of God's Word and the guidance of the Divine Spirit. God sent Him to guide us through this great journey, and if we seek to work independent of Him, we shall stumble into the deep darkness of eternity's night. But bear in mind the _Words_ of the Spirit of God; if you want to be guided, you must study the Word; because the Word is the light of the Spirit. In the 14th chapter of John and 26th verse, we read: "But the Comforter, which is the Holy Ghost, whom the Father will send in my name, He shall teach you all things, and bring all things to your remembrance, whatsoever I have said unto you." Again in John xvi, 13: "Howbeit when He, the Spirit of Truth is come, He will guide you into all truth: for He shall not speak of Himself; but whatsoever He shall hear, that shall He speak: and He will show you things to come." "He will show you things to come." A great many people seem to think that the Bible is out of date, that it is an old book, and they think it has passed its day. They say it was very good for the dark ages, and that there is some very good history in it; but then it was not intended for the present time; that we are living in a very enlightened age, and that men can get on very well without the old book; that we have outgrown it. They think we have no use for it, because it is an old book. Now you might just as well say that the sun, which has shone so long, is now so old that it is out of date, and that whenever a man builds a house he need not put any windows in it, because we have got a newer light and a better light; we have gaslight and this new electric light. These are something new; and I would advise people, if they think the Bible is too old and worn out, when they build houses, not to put any windows in them, but just to light them with this new electric light; that is something new, and this is what they are anxious for. People talk about this Book as if they understood it; but we don't know much about it yet. The press gives us the daily news of what has taken place. This Bible, however, tells us what is about to take place. This _is_ new; we have the news here in this Book; this tells us of the things that will surely come to pass; and that is a great deal newer than anything in the newspapers. It tells us that the Spirit shall teach us all things; not only guide us into all truth, but teach us all things; He teaches us how to pray, and I don't think there has ever been a prayer upon this sin-cursed earth that has been indicted by the Holy Spirit but was answered. There is much praying that is not indicted by the Holy Spirit. In former years I was very ambitious to get rich; I used to pray for one hundred thousand dollars; that was my aim, and I used to say, "God does not answer my prayer; He does not make me rich." But I had no warrant for such a prayer; yet a good many people pray in that way; they think that they pray, but they do not pray according to the Scriptures. The Spirit of God has nothing to do with their prayers, and such prayers are not the product of His teaching. It is the Spirit who teaches us how to answer our enemies. If a man strikes me, I should not pull out a revolver and shoot him. The Spirit of the Lord don't teach me revenge; He don't teach me that it is necessary to draw the sword and cut a man down in order to defend my rights. Some people say, You are a coward if you don't strike back. Christ says, turn the other cheek to him who smites. I would rather take Christ's teaching than any other. I don't think a man gains much by loading himself down with weapons to defend himself. There has been life enough sacrificed in this country to teach men a lesson in this regard. The Word of God is a much better protection than the revolver. We had better take the Word of God to protect us, by accepting its teaching, and living out its precepts. AN AID TO MEMORY. It is a great comfort to us to remember that another office of the Spirit is to bring the teaching of Jesus to our remembrance. This was our Lord's promise, "He shall teach you all things, and bring all things to your remembrance." Jno. xiv, 26. How striking that is. I think there are many Christians who have had that experience. They have been testifying, and found that while talking for Christ the Spirit has just brought into mind some of the sayings of the Lord Jesus Christ, and their mind was soon filled with the Word of God. When we have the Spirit resting upon us, we can speak with authority and power, and the Lord will bless our testimony and bless our work. I believe the reason why God makes use of so few in the Church, is because there is not in them the power that God can use. He is not going to use our ideas, but we must have the Word of God hid in our hearts, and then, the Holy Spirit inflaming us, we will have the testimony which will be rich, and sweet, and fresh, and the Lord's Word will vindicate itself in blessed results. God wants to use us; God wants to make us channels of blessing; but we are in such a condition He does not use us. That is the trouble; there are so many men who have no testimony for the Lord; if they speak, they speak without saying anything, and if they pray, their prayer is powerless; they do not plead in prayer; their prayer is just a few set phrases that you have heard too often. Now what we want, is to be so full of the Word, that the Spirit coming upon us shall bring to mind--bring to our remembrance--the words of the Lord Jesus. In 1 Cor. ii, 9, it is written: "Eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither have entered into the heart of man the things which God hath prepared for them that love Him." We hear that quoted so often in prayer--many a man weaves it into his prayer and stops right there. And the moment you talk about Heaven, they say, "Oh, we don't know anything about Heaven it hath not entered into the heart of man; eye hath not seen; it is all speculation; we have nothing to do with it; and they say they quote it as it is written." "Eye hath not seen, nor ear heard; neither have entered into the heart of man the things which God hath prepared for them that love Him." What next--"but God hath revealed them unto us by His Spirit." You see the Lord hath revealed them unto us: "For the Spirit searches all things--yea, the deep things of God." That is just what the Spirit does. LONG AND SHORT SIGHT. He brings to our mind what God has in store for us. I heard a man, some time ago, speaking about Abraham. He said "Abraham was not tempted by the well-watered plains of Sodom, for Abraham was what you might call a long-sighted man; he had his eyes set on the city which had foundation--'whose Builder and Maker is God.'" But Lot was a short-sighted man; and there are many people in the Church who are very short-sighted; they only see things right around them they think good. Abraham was long-sighted; he had glimpses of the celestial city. Moses was long-sighted, and he left the palaces of Egypt and identified himself with God's people--poor people, who were slaves; but he had something in view yonder; he could see something God had in store. Again there are some people who are sort of long-sighted and shortsighted, too. I have a friend who has one eye that is long-sighted and the other is short-sighted; and I think the Church is full of this kind of people. They want one eye for the world and the other for the Kingdom of God. Therefore, everything, is blurred, one eye is long and the other is short, all is confusion, and they "see men as trees walking." The Church is filled with that sort of people. But Stephen was long-sighted; he looked clear into heaven; they couldn't convince him even when he was dying, that Christ had not ascended to heaven. "Look, look yonder," he says, "see Him over there; He is on the throne, standing at the right hand of God;" and he looked clear into heaven; the world had no temptation for him; he had put the world under his feet. Paul was another of those long-sighted men; he had been caught up and seen things unlawful for him to utter; things grand and glorious. I tell you when the Spirit of God is on us the world looks very empty; the world has a very small hold upon us, and we begin to let go our hold of it. When the Spirit of God is on us we will just let go the things of time and lay hold of things eternal. This is the Church's need to-day; we want the Spirit to come in mighty power, and consume all the vile dross there is in us. Oh! that the Spirit of fire may come down and burn everything in us that is contrary to God's blessed Word and Will. In John xiv, 16, we read of the Comforter. This is the first time He is spoken of as the Comforter. Christ had been their Comforter. God had sent Him to comfort the sorrowing. It was prophesied of Him, "The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because He hath anointed me to preach the Gospel to the poor; He has sent me to heal the broken-hearted." You can't heal the brokenhearted without the Comforter; but the world would not have the first Comforter, and so they rose up and took Him to Calvary and put him to death; but on going away He said, "I will send you another Comforter; you shall not be comfortless; be of good cheer, little flock; it is the Father's good pleasure to give you the kingdom." All these sweet passages are brought to the remembrance of God's people, and they help us to rise out of the fog and mist of this world. O, what a comforter is the Holy Spirit of God! THE FAITHFUL FRIEND. The Holy Spirit tells a man of his faults in order to lead him to a better life. In John xvi, 8, we read: "He is to reprove the world of sin." Now, there are a class of people who don't like this part of the Spirit's work. Do you know why? Because He convicts _them_ of sin; they don't like that. What they want is some one to speak comforting words and make everything pleasant; keep everything all quiet; tell them there is peace when there is war; tell them it is light when it is dark, and tell them everything is growing better; that the world is getting on amazingly in goodness; that it is growing better all the time; that is the kind of preaching they seek for. Men think they are a great deal better than their fathers were. That suits human nature, for it is full of pride. Men will strut around and say, "Yes, I believe that; the world is improving; I am a good deal better man than father was; my father was too strict; he was one of those old Puritanical men who was so rigid. O, we are getting on; we are more liberal; my father wouldn't think of going out riding on Sunday, but we will; we will trample the laws of God under our feet; we are better than our fathers." That is the kind of preaching which some dearly love, and there are preachers who tickle such itching ears. When you bring the Word of God to bear upon them, and when the Spirit drives it home, then men will say: "I don't like that kind of preaching; I will never go to hear that man again;" and sometimes they will get up and stamp their way out of church before the speaker gets through; they don't like it. But when the Spirit of God is at work he convicts men of sin. "When He comes He will reprove the world of sin, of righteousness and of judgment; of sin"--not because men swear and lie and steal and get drunk and murder--"of sin because they believe not on Me." THE CLIMAX SIN. That is the sin of the world. Why, a great many people think that unbelief is a sort of misfortune, but do not know, if you will allow me the expression, it is the damning sin of the world to-day; that is what unbelief is, the mother of all sin. There would not be a drunkard walking the streets, if it were not for unbelief; there would not be a harlot walking the streets, if it were not for unbelief; there would not be a murderer, if it was not for unbelief; it is the germ of all sin. Don't think for a moment that it is a misfortune, but just bear in mind it is an awful sin, and may the Holy Spirit convict every reader that unbelief is making God a liar. Many a man has been knocked down on the streets because some one has told him he was a liar. Unbelief is giving God the lie; that is the plain English of it. Some people seem to boast of their unbelief; they seem to think it is quite respectable to be an infidel and doubt God's Word, and they will vainly boast and say, "I have intellectual difficulties; I can't believe." Oh that the Spirit of God may come and convict men of sin! That is what we need--His convicting power, and I am so thankful that God has not put that into our hands. We have not to convict men; if we had I would get discouraged, and give up preaching, and go back to business within the next forty-eight hours. It is my work to preach and hold up the Cross and testify of Christ; but it is His work to convict men of sin and lead them to Christ. One thing I have noticed, that some conversions don't amount to anything; that if a man professes to be converted without conviction of sin, he is one of those stony-ground hearers who don't bring forth much fruit. The first little wave of persecution, the first breath of opposition, and the man is back in the world again. Let us pray, dear Christian reader, that God may carry on a deep and thorough work, that men may be convicted of sin so that they can not rest in unbelief. Let us pray God it may be a thorough work in the land. I would a great deal rather see a hundred men thoroughly converted, truly born of God, than to see a thousand professed conversions where the Spirit of God has not convicted of sin. Don't let us cry "Peace, peace, when there is no peace." Don't go to the man who is living in sin, and tell him all he has to do is to stand right up and profess, without any hatred for sin. Let us ask God first to show every man the plague of his own heart, that the Spirit, may convict them of sin. Then will the work in our hands be real, and deep, and abide the fiery trial which will try every man's labor. Thus far, we have found the work of the Spirit is to impart life, to implant hope, to give liberty, to testify of Christ, to guide us into all truth, to teach us all things, to comfort the believers, and to convict the world of sin. "Holy Spirit, faithful guide, Ever near the Christian's side; Gently lead us by the hand, Pilgrims in a desert land; Weary souls for e'er rejoice, While they hear that sweetest voice, Whisp'ring softly, wanderer come! Follow Me, I'll guide thee home. Ever present, truest Friend, Ever near Thine aid to lend, Leave us not to doubt and fear, Groping on in darkness drear, When the storms are raging sore, Hearts grow faint, and hopes give o'er; Whisp'ring softly, wanderer come! Follow Me, I'll guide thee home. When our days of toil shall cease, Waiting still for sweet release, Nothing left but heaven and prayer, Wond'ring if our names were there, Wading deep the dismal flood, Pleading nought but Jesus' blood; Whisp'ring softly, wanderer come! Follow Me, I'll guide thee home." "OH! Spirit of God, whose voice I hear, Sweeter than sweetest music, appealing In tones of tenderness and love; Whose comforts delight my soul, and Fills the temple of my heart with joy beyond compare. I need Thee day by day, and each day's moment, Lord. I sigh for greater likeness To Him who loved me unto death, and loves me still. 'Tis Thine to lead me to Him; 'tis Thine to ope the eye, To manifest His royal glories to my longing heart; 'Tis Thine the slumbering saint to waken And discipline this blood-touched ear To hearken to my heavenly Lover's voice, And quickly speed His summons to obey. Oh! Spirit of the Mighty God, uplift my faith Till heaven's precious light shall flood my soul, And the shining of my face declare That I have seen the face of God." CHAPTER IV. POWER IN OPERATION. "Ye are not your own." "Your bodies are the temples of the Holy Ghost." Is that an unmeaning metaphor, or an over-worded expression? When the Holy Spirit enters the soul, heaven enters with Him. The heart is compared to a temple. God never enters without His attendants; _repentance_ cleanses the house; _faith_ provides for the house; _watchfulness_, like the porter, takes care of it; _prayer_ is a lively messenger, learns what is wanted, and then goes for it; _faith_ tells him where to go, and he never goes in vain; _joy_ is the musician of this temple, tuning to the praises of God and the Lamb; and this terrestrial temple shall be removed to the celestial world, for the trumpet shall sound, and the dead shall be raised.--_Rowland Hill._ POWER IN OPERATION. THE power we have been considering is the Presence of the Holy Spirit. He is omnipotent. Power in operation is the actions of the Spirit or the fruit of the Spirit. This we shall now consider. Paul writes in Gal. v, 16, etc.: "This I say then, walk in the Spirit, and ye shall not fulfill the lust of the flesh. For the flesh lusteth against the Spirit, and the Spirit against the flesh; and these are contrary, the one to the other; so that ye can not do the things that ye would. But if ye be led of the Spirit, ye are not under the law." * * * "But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, long-suffering, gentleness, goodness, faith, meekness, temperance; against such there is no law. And they that are Christ's have crucified the flesh with the affections and lusts. If we live in the Spirit, let us also walk in the Spirit. Let us not be desirous of vainglory, provoking one another, envying one another." Now there is a life of perfect peace, perfect joy, and perfect love, and that ought to be the aim of every child of God; that ought to be their standard; and they should not rest until having attained to that position. That is God's standard, where He wants all His children. These nine graces mentioned in this chapter in Galatians can be divided in this way: Love and peace and joy are all to God. God looks for that fruit from each one of His children, and that is the kind of fruit which is acceptable with Him. Without that we can not please God. He wants, above everything else that we possess, love, peace and joy. And then the next three--goodness, long-suffering and gentleness--are towards man. That is our outward life to those that we are coming in contact with continually--daily, hourly. The next three--faith, temperance, meekness--are in relation to ourselves; and in that way we can just take the three divisions, and it will be of some help to us. The first thing that meets us as we enter the kingdom of God, you might say are these first three graces, LOVE, PEACE, AND JOY. When a man who has been living in sin turns from his sins, and turns to God with all his heart, he is met on the threshold of the divine life by these sister graces. The love of God is shed abroad in his heart by the Holy Ghost. The peace of God comes at the same time, and also the joy of the Lord. We can all put the test to ourselves, if we have them. It is not anything that we can make. The great trouble with many is that they are trying to make these graces. They are trying to make love; they are trying to make peace; they are trying to make joy. But they are not creatures of human planting. To produce them of ourselves is impossible. That is an act of God. They come from above. It is God who speaks the word and gives the love; it is God who gives the peace; it is God who gives the joy, and we possess all by receiving Jesus Christ by faith into the heart; for when Christ comes by faith into the heart, then the Spirit is there, and if we have the Spirit, we will have the fruit. If the whole Church of God could live as the Lord would have them live, why Christianity would be the mightiest power this world has ever seen. It is the low standard of Christian life that is causing so much trouble. There are a great many stunted Christians in the Church; their lives are stunted; they are like a tree planted in poor soil--the soil is hard and stony, and the roots can not find the rich loamy soil needed. Such believers have not grown in these sweet graces. Peter, in his second epistle, 1st chapter and 5th verse, writes: "And besides this, giving all diligence, add to your faith virtue; and to virtue knowledge; and to knowledge temperance; and to temperance patience; and to patience, godliness; and to godliness, brotherly kindness; and to brotherly kindness, charity. For if these things be in you and abound, they make you that ye shall neither be barren nor unfruitful in the knowledge of our Lord Jesus Christ." Now, if we have these things in us, I believe that we will be constantly bringing forth fruit that will be acceptable with God. It won't be just a little every now and then, when we spur ourselves up and work ourselves up into a certain state of mind or into an excited condition, and work a little while and then become cold, and discouraged, and disheartened, but we shall be neither unfruitful nor barren, bringing forth fruit constantly, we will grow in grace and be filled with the Spirit of God. WHAT WINS. A great many parents have inquired of me how to win their children. They say they have talked with them, and sometimes they have scolded them and have lectured them, and signally failed. I think there is no way so sure to win our families and our neighbors, and those about whom we are anxious, to Christ, than just to adorn the doctrine of Jesus Christ in our lives, and grow in all these graces. If we have peace and joy and love and gentleness and goodness and temperance; not only being temperate in what we drink, but in what we eat, and temperate in our language, guarded in our expressions; if we just live in our homes as the Lord would have us, an even Christian life day by day, we shall have a quiet and silent power proceeding from us, that will constrain them to believe on the Lord Jesus Christ. But an uneven life, hot to-day and cold tomorrow, will only repel. Many are watching God's people. It is just the very worst thing that can happen to those whom we want to win to Christ, to see us, at any time, in a cold, backslidden state. This is not the normal condition of the Church; it is not God's intention; He would have us growing in all these graces, and the only true, happy, Christian life is to be growing, constantly growing in the love and favor of God, growing in all those delightful graces of the Spirit. Even the vilest, the most impure, acknowledge the power of goodness; they recognize the fruit of the Spirit. It may condemn their lives and cause them to say bitter things at times, but down deep in their hearts they know that the man or woman who is living that kind of life, is superior to them. The world don't satisfy them, and if we can show the world that Jesus Christ does satisfy us in our present life, it will be more powerful than the eloquent words of professional reformers. A man may preach with the eloquence of an angel, but if he don't live what he preaches, and act out in his home and his business what he professes, his testimony goes for naught, and the people say it is all hypocrisy after all; it is all a sham. Words are very empty, if there is nothing back of them. Your testimony is poor and worthless, if there is not a record back of that testimony consistent with what you profess. What we need is to pray to God to lift us up out of this low, cold, formal state that we have been living in, that we may live in the atmosphere of God continually, and that the Lord may lift upon us the light of his countenance, and that we may shine in this world, reflecting His grace and glory. The first of the graces spoken of in Galatians, and the last mentioned in Peter, is charity or love. We can not serve God, we can not work for God unless we have love. That is the key which unlocks the human heart. If I can prove to a man that I come to him out of pure love; if a mother shows by her actions that it is pure love that prompts her advising her boy to lead a different life, not a selfish love, but that it is for the glory of God, it won't be long before that mother's influence will be felt by that boy, and he will begin to think about this matter, because true love touches the heart quicker than anything else. POWER OF LOVE. Love is the badge that Christ gave His disciples. Some put on one sort of badge and some another. Some put on a strange kind of dress, that they may be known as Christians, and some put on a crucifix, or something else, that they may be known as Christians. But love is the only badge by which the disciples of our Lord Jesus Christ are known. "By this shall all men know that ye are My disciples, if ye have love one toward another." Therefore, though a man stand before an audience and speak with the eloquence of a Demosthenes, or of the greatest living orator, if there is no love back of his words, it is like sounding brass and a tinkling cymbal. I would recommend all Christians to read the thirteenth chapter of First Corinthians constantly, abiding in it day and night, not spending a night or a day there, but just go in there and spend all our time--summer and winter, twelve months in the year, then the power of Christ and Christianity would be felt as it never has been in the history of the world. See what this chapter says: "Though I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, and have not charity, I am become _as_ sounding brass or a tinkling cymbal. And though I have _the gift_ of prophecy, and understand all mysteries, and all knowledge; and though I have all faith, so that I could remove mountains, and have not charity, I am nothing." A great many are praying for faith; they want extraordinary faith; they want remarkable faith. They forget that love exceeds faith. The CHARITY spoken of in the above verses, is LOVE, the fruit of the Spirit, the great motive-power of life. What the Church of God needs to-day is love--more love to God and more love to our fellow-men. If we love God more, we will love our fellow-men more. There is no doubt about that. I used to think that I should like to have lived in the days of the prophets; that I should like to have been one of the prophets, to prophesy, and to see the beauties of heaven and describe them to men; but, as I understand the Scriptures now, I would a good deal rather live in the thirteenth chapter of 1st Corinthians and have this love that Paul is speaking of, the love of God burning in my soul like an unquenchable flame, so that I may reach men and win them for heaven. A man may have wonderful knowledge, that may unravel the mysteries of the Bible, and yet be as cold as an icicle. He may glisten like the snow in the sun. Sometimes you have wondered why it was that certain ministers who have had such wonderful magnetism, who have such a marvelous command of language, and who preach with such mental strength, haven't had more conversions. I believe, if the truth was known, you would find no divine love back of their words, no pure love in their sermons. You may preach like an angel, Paul says, "with the tongues of men and of angels," but if you have not love, it amounts to nothing. "And though I bestow all my goods to feed the poor,"--a man may be very charitable, and give away all his goods; a man may give all he has, but if it is not the love of God which prompts the gift, it will not be acceptable with God. "And though I give my body to be burned, and have not charity"--have not love--"it profiteth me nothing." A man may go to the stake for his principles; he may go to the stake for what he believes, but if it is not love to God which actuates him, it will not be acceptable to God. LOVE'S WONDERFUL EFFECTS. "Charity suffereth long, and is kind; charity envieth not; charity vaunteth not itself, is not puffed up. Doth not behave itself unseemly, seeketh not her own, is not easily provoked, thinketh no evil." That's the work of love. It is not easily provoked. Now if a man has no love of God in his heart, how easy it is to become offended; perhaps with the church because some members of the church don't treat him just right, or some men of the church don't bow to him on the street, he takes offense, and that is the last you see of him. Love is long-suffering. If I love the Lord Jesus Christ, these little things are not going to separate me from His people. They are like the dust in the balance. Nor will the cold, formal treatment of hypocrites in the church quench that love I have in my heart for Him. If this love is in the heart, and the fire is burning on the altar, we will not be all the time finding fault with other people and criticising what they have done. CRITICS BEWARE. Love will rebuke evil, but will not rejoice in it. Love will be impatient of sin, but patient with the sinner. To form the habit of finding fault constantly, is very damaging to spiritual life; it is about the lowest and meanest position that a man can take. I never saw a man who was aiming to do the best work, but there could have been some improvement; I never did anything in my life, I never addressed an audience, that I didn't think I could have done better, and I have often upbraided myself that I had not done better; but to sit down and find fault with other people when we are doing nothing ourselves, not lifting our hands to save some one, is all wrong, and is the opposite of holy, patient, divine love. Love is forbearance; and what we want is to get this spirit of criticism and fault finding out of the Church and out of our hearts and let each one of us live as if we had to answer for ourselves, and not for the community, at the last day. If we are living according to the 13th chapter of Corinthians, we will not be all the time finding fault with other people. "Love suffereth long, and is kind." Love forgets itself, and don't dwell upon itself. The woman who came to Christ with that alabaster box, I venture to say, never thought of herself. Little did she know what an act she was performing. It was just her love for the Master. She forgot the surroundings, she forgot everything else that was there; she broke that box and poured the ointment upon Him, and filled the house with its odor. The act, as a memorial, has come down these 1800 years. It is right here--the perfume of that box is in the world today. That ointment was worth $40 or $50; no small sum of those days for a poor woman. Judas sold the Son of God for about $15 or $20. But what this woman gave to Christ was everything that she had, and she became so occupied with Jesus Christ that she didn't think what people were going to say. So when we act with a single eye for the glory of our Lord, not finding fault with everything about us, but doing what we can in the power of this love, then will our deeds for God speak, and the world will acknowledge that we have been with Jesus, and that this glorious love has been shed abroad in our hearts. If we don't love the Church of God, I am afraid it won't do us much good; if we don't love the blessed Bible, it will not do us much good. What we want, then, is to have love for Christ, to have love for His word, and to have love for the Church of God, and when we have love, and are living in that spirit, we will not be in the spirit of finding fault and working mischief. AFTER LOVE, WHAT? After love comes peace. I have before remarked, a great many people are trying to make peace. But that has already been done. God has not left it for us to do; all that we have to do is to enter into it. It is a condition, and instead of our trying to make peace and to work for peace, we want to cease all that, and sweetly enter into peace. If I discover a man in the cellar complaining because there is no light there, and because it is cold and damp, I say: "My friend, come up out of the cellar. There is a good warm sun up here, a beautiful spring day, and it is warm, it is cheerful and light; come up, and enjoy it." Would he reply, "O, no, sir; I am trying to see if I can make light down here; I am trying to work myself into a warm feeling." And there he is working away, and he has been at it for a whole week. I can imagine my reader smile; but you may be smiling at your own picture; for this is the condition of many whom I daily meet who are trying to do this very thing--they are trying to work themselves into peace and joyful feelings. Peace is a condition into which we enter; it is a state; and instead of our trying to make peace, let us believe what God's Word declares, that peace has already been made by the blood of the Cross. Christ has made peace for us, and now what He desires is that we believe it and enter into it. Now, the only thing that can keep us from peace is sin. God turneth the way of the wicked upside down. There is no peace for the wicked, saith my God. They are like the troubled sea that can not rest, casting up filth and mire all the while; but peace with God by faith in Jesus Christ--peace through the knowledge of forgiven sin, is like a rock; the waters go dashing and surging past it, but it abides. When we find peace, we shall not find it on the ground of innate goodness; it comes from without ourselves, but into us. In the 16th chapter of John and the 33d verse we read: "These things have I spoken unto you, that in me ye might have peace." In me ye might have peace. Jesus Christ is the author of peace. He procured peace. His gospel is the gospel of peace. "Behold I bring you good tidings of great joy which shall be unto all people; for unto you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour," and then came that chorus from heaven "Glory to God in the highest; peace on earth." He brought peace. "In the world ye shall have tribulation, but be of good cheer, I have overcome the world." How true that in the world we have tribulation. Are you in tribulation? Are you in trouble? Are you in sorrow? Remember this is our lot. Paul had tribulation, and others shared in grief. Nor shall we be exempt from trial. But within, peace may reign undisturbed. If sorrow is our lot, peace is our legacy. Jesus gives peace; and do you know there is a good deal of difference between His peace and our peace? Any one can disturb our peace, but they can't disturb His peace. That is the kind of peace He has left us. Nothing can offend those who trust in Christ. NOT EASILY OFFENDED. In the 119th Psalm and the 165th verse, we find "Great peace have they who love Thy law; and nothing shall offend them." The study of God's Word will secure peace. You take those Christians who are rooted and grounded in the Word of God, and you find they have great peace; but it is these who don't study their Bible, and don't know their Bible, who are easily offended when some little trouble comes, or some little persecution, and their peace is all disturbed; just a little breath of opposition, and their peace is all gone. Sometimes I am amazed to see how little it takes to drive all peace and comfort from some people. Some slandering tongue will readily blast it. But if we have the peace of God, the world can not take that from us. It can not give it; it can not destroy it. We have to get it from above the world; it is peace which Christ gives. "Great peace have they which love Thy law, and nothing shall offend them." Christ says "blessed is he, whosoever shall not be offended in Me." Now, if you will notice, wherever there is a Bible-taught Christian, one who has the Bible well marked, and daily feeds upon the Word by prayerful meditation, he will not be easily offended. Such are the people who are growing and working all the while. But it is these people who never open their Bibles, these people who never study the Scriptures, who become offended, and are wondering why they are having such a hard time. They are the persons who tell you that Christianity is not what it has been recommended to them; that they have found it was not all that we claim it to be. The real trouble is, they have not done as the Lord has told them to do. They have neglected the Word of God. If they had been studying the Word of God, they would not be in that condition. If they had been studying the Word of God, they would not have wandered these years away from God, living on the husks of the world. But the trouble is, they have neglected to care for the new life; they haven't fed it, and the poor soul, being starved, sinks into weakness and decay, and is easily stumbled or offended. I met a man who confessed his soul had fed on nothing for forty years. "Well," said I, "that is pretty hard for the soul--giving it nothing to feed on!" And that man is but a type of thousands and tens of thousands to-day; their poor souls are starving. This body that we inhabit for a day, and then leave, we take good care of; we feed it three times a day, and we clothe it, and take care of it, and deck it, and by and by it is going into the grave to be eaten up by the worms; but the inner man, that is to live on and on, and on forever, is lean and starved. SWEET WORDS. In the 6th chapter of Numbers and 22d verse we read: "And the Lord spake unto Moses, saying: Speak unto Aaron and unto his sons, saying, on this wise ye shall bless the children of Israel, saying unto them: The Lord bless thee and keep thee. The Lord make His face shine upon thee, and be gracious unto thee. The Lord lift up His countenance upon thee, and give thee peace." I think these are about as sweet verses as we find in the Old Testament. I marked them years ago in my Bible, and many times I have turned over and read them. "The Lord lift up His countenance upon thee, and give thee peace." They remind us of the loving words of Jesus to his troubled disciples, "Peace, be still." The Jewish salutation used to be, as a man went into a house, "Peace be upon this house," and as he left the house the host would say, "Go in peace." Then again, in the 14th chapter of John and the 27th verse, Jesus said: "Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you; not as the world giveth give I unto you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid." This is the precious legacy of Jesus to all His followers. Every man, every woman, every child, who believes in Him, may share in this portion. Christ has willed it to them, and His peace is theirs. This then is our Lord's purpose and promise. My peace I give unto you. I give it, and I am not going to take it away again; I am going to leave it to you. "Not as the world giveth, give I unto you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid." But you know, when some men make their wills and deed away their property, there are some sharp, shrewd lawyers who will get hold of that will and break it all to pieces; they will go into court and break the will, and the jury will set the will aside, and the money goes into another channel. Now this will that Christ has made, neither devil nor man can break it. He has promised to give us peace, and there are thousands of witnesses who can say: "I have my part of that legacy. I have peace; I came to Him for peace, and I got it; I came to Him in darkness; I came to Him in trouble and sorrow; I was passing under a deep cloud of affliction, and I came to Him and He said, 'Peace, be still.' And from that hour peace reigned in my soul." Yes, many have proved the invitation true, "Come unto Me all ye that labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest." They found rest when they came. He is the author of rest, He is the author of peace, and no power can break that will; yea, unbelief may question it, but Jesus Christ rose to execute His own will, and it is in vain for man to contest it. Infidels and skeptics may tell us that it is all a myth, and that there isn't anything in it, and yet the glorious tidings is ever repeated, "Peace on earth, good will to man," and the poor and needy, the sad and sorrowful, are made partakers of it. So, my reader, you need not wait for peace any longer. All you have to do is to enter into it to-day. You need not try to make peace. It is a false idea; you can not make it. Peace is already made by Jesus Christ, and is now declared unto you. PEACE DECLARED. When France and England were at war, a French vessel had gone off on a long voyage, a whaling voyage; and when they came back, the crew were short of water, and being now near an English port, they wanted to get water; but they were afraid that they would be taken if they went into that port; and some people in the port saw them, saw their signal of distress, and sent word to them that they need not be afraid, that the war was over, and peace had been declared. But they couldn't make those sailors believe it, and they didn't dare to go into port, although they were out of water; but at last they made up their minds that they had better go in and surrender up their cargo and surrender up their lives to their enemies than to perish at sea without water; but when they got in, they found out that peace had been declared, and that what had been told them was true. So there are a great many people who don't believe the glad tidings that peace has been made. Jesus Christ made peace on the Cross. He satisfied the claims of the law; and this law which condemns you and me has been fulfilled by Jesus Christ. He has made peace, and now He wants us just to enjoy it, just to believe it. Nor is there a thing to hinder us from doing it, if we will. We can enter into that blessing now, and have perfect peace. The promise is: "Thou wilt keep him in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on Thee. Trust ye in the Lord forever, for in the Lord Jehovah is everlasting strength." Now, as long as our mind is stayed on our dear selves, we will never have peace. Some people think more of themselves than of all the rest of the world. It is self in the morning, self at noon, and self at night. It is self when they wake up, and self when they go to bed; and they are all the time looking at themselves and thinking about themselves, instead of "looking unto Jesus." Faith is an outward look. Faith does not look within; it looks without. It is not what I think, nor what I feel, nor what I have done, but it is what Jesus Christ is and has done, and so we should trust in Him who is our strength, and whose strength will never fail. After Christ rose from the grave, three times, John tells us, He met His disciples and said unto them, "Peace be unto you." There is peace for the conscience through His blood, and peace for the heart in His love. SECRET OF JOY. Remember, then, that love is power, and peace is power; but now I will call attention to another fruit of the Spirit, and this too is power--the grace of JOY. It is the privilege, I believe, of every Christian to walk in the light, as God is in the light, and to have that peace which will be flowing unceasingly as we keep busy about His work. And it is our privilege to be full of the joy of the Lord. We read, that when Philip went down to Samaria and preached, there was great joy in the city. Why? Because they believed the glad tidings. And that is the natural order, joy in believing. When we believe the glad tidings, there comes a joy into our souls. Also we are told that our Lord sent the seventy out, and that they went forth preaching salvation in the name of Jesus Christ, and the result was that there were a great many who were blessed; and the seventy returned, it says, with great joy, and when they came back they said that the very devils were subject to them, through His name. The Lord seemed to just correct them in this one thing when He said, "Rejoice not that the devils are subject to you, but rejoice that your names are written in heaven." There is assurance for you. They had something to rejoice in now. God don't ask us to rejoice over nothing, but He gives us some ground for our joy. What would you think of a man or woman who seemed very happy to-day and full of joy, and couldn't tell you what made them so? Suppose I should meet a man on the street, and he was so full of joy that he should get hold of both my hands and say, "Bless the Lord, I am so full of joy!" "What makes you so full of joy?" "Well, I don't know." "You don't know?" "No, I don't; but I am so joyful that I just want to get out of the flesh." "What makes you feel so joyful?" "Well, I don't know." Would we not think such a person unreasonable? But there are a great many people who feel--who want to feel--that they are Christians before they are Christians; they want the Christian's experience before they become Christians; they want to have the joy of the Lord before they receive Jesus Christ. But this is not the Gospel order. He brings joy when He comes, and we can not have joy apart from Him; there is no joy away from Him; He is the author of it, and we find our joy in Him. JOY IS UNSELFISH. Now, there are three kinds of joy; there is the joy of one's own salvation. I thought, when I first tasted that, it was the most delicious joy I had ever known, and that I could never get beyond it. But I found, afterward, there was something more joyful than that, namely, the joy of the salvation of others. Oh, the privilege, the blessed privilege, to be used of God to win a soul to Christ, and to see a man or woman being led out of bondage by some act of ours toward them. To think that God should condescend to allow us to be co-workers with Him. It is the highest honor we can wear. It surpasses the joy of our own salvation, this joy of seeing others saved. And then John said, He had no greater joy than to see His disciples walking in the truth. Every man who has been the means of leading souls to Christ understands what that means. Young disciples, walk in the truth and you will have joy all the while. I think there is a difference between happiness and joy. Happiness is caused by things which happen around me, and circumstances will mar it, but joy flows right on through trouble; joy flows on through the dark; joy flows in the night as well as in the day; joy flows all through persecution and opposition; it flows right along, for it is an unceasing fountain bubbling up in the heart; a secret spring which the world can't see and don't know anything about; but the Lord gives His people perpetual joy when they walk in obedience to Him. This joy is fed by the Divine Word. Jeremiah says in chapter xv, 16: "Thy words were found, and I did eat them; and Thy Word was unto me the joy and rejoicing of my heart; for I am called by Thy name, O Lord." He ate the words, and what was the result? He said they were the joy and rejoicing of his heart. Now people should look for joy in the Word, and not in the world; they should look for the joy which the Scriptures furnish, and then go work in the vineyard; because a joy that don't send me out to some one else, a joy that don't impel me to go and help the poor drunkard, a joy that don't prompt me to visit the widow and the fatherless, a joy that don't cause me to go into the Mission Sunday-school or other Christian work, is not worth having, and is not from above; a joy that does not constrain me to go and work for the Master, is purely sentiment and not real joy. JOY IN PERSECUTION. Then it says in Luke vi, 22: "Blessed are ye when men shall hate you, and when they shall separate you from their company, and shall reproach you and cast out your name as evil, for the Son of Man's sake. Rejoice ye in that day and leap for joy, for behold your reward is great in heaven for in like manner did their fathers unto the prophets." Christians do not receive their reward down here. We have to go right against the current of the world. We may be unpopular, and we may go right against many of our personal friends if we live godly in Christ Jesus; and at the same time, if we are persecuted for the Master's sake, We will have this joy bubbling up; it just comes right up in our hearts all the while--a joy that is unceasing--that flows right on. The world can not choke that fountain. If we have Christ in the heart, by and by the reward will come. The longer I live the more I am convinced that godly men and women are not appreciated in our day. But their work will live after them, and there will be a greater work done after they are gone, by the influence of their lives, than when they were living. Daniel is doing a thousand times more than when he was living in Babylon. Abraham is doing more to-day than he did on the plain with his tent and altar. All these centuries he has been living, and so we read, "Blessed are the dead that die in the Lord, from henceforth; yea saith the Spirit, that they may rest from their labors, and their works do follow them." Let us set the streams running that shall flow on after we have gone. If we have to-day persecution and opposition, let us press forward, and our reward will be great by and by. Oh! think of this; the Lord Jesus, the Maker of heaven and earth, who created the world, says, "Great shall be thy reward." He calls it great. If some friend should say it is great, it might be very small; but when the Lord, the great and mighty God, says it is great, what must it be? Oh! the reward that is in store for those who serve Him! We have this joy, if we serve Him. A man or woman is not fit to work for God who is cast down, because they go about their work with a tell-tale face. "The joy of the Lord is your strength." What we need to-day is a joyful church. A joyful church will make inroads upon the works of Satan, and we will see the Gospel going down into dark lanes and dark alleys, and into dark garrets and cellars, and we will see the drunkards reached and the gamblers and the harlots come pressing into the kingdom of God. It is this carrying a sad countenance, with so many wrinkles on our brows, that retards Christianity. Oh may there come great joy upon believers everywhere, that we may shout for joy and rejoice in God day and night. A joyful church--let us pray for that, that the Lord may make us joyful, and when we have joy, then we will have success; and if we don't have the reward we think we should have here, let us constantly remember the rewarding time will come hereafter. Some one has said, if you had asked men in Abraham's day who their great man was, they would have said Enoch, and not Abraham. If you had asked in Moses' day who their great man was, they would not have said it was Moses; he was nothing, but it would have been Abraham. If you had asked in the days of Elijah or Daniel, it wouldn't have been Daniel or Elijah; they were nothing; but it would have been Moses. And in the days of Jesus Christ--if you had asked in the days of Jesus Christ about John the Baptist or the apostles, you would hear they were mean and contemptible in the sight of the world, and were looked upon with scorn and reproach; but see how mighty they have become. And so we will not be appreciated in our day, but we are to toil on and work on, possessing this joy all the while. And if we lack it, let us cry: "Restore unto me the joy of Thy salvation, and uphold me with Thy free Spirit; then will I teach transgressors Thy ways, and sinners shall be converted unto Thee." Again, the 15th chapter of John, and 11th verse, reads: "These things have I spoken unto you, that my joy might remain in you, and that your joy might be full." And in the 16th chapter and 22d verse: "And ye now therefore have sorrow; but I will see you again, and your heart shall rejoice, and your joy no man taketh from you." I am so thankful that I have a joy that the world can not rob me of; I have a treasure that the world can not take from me; I have something that it is not in the power of man or devil to deprive me of, and that is the joy of the Lord. "No man taketh it from you." In the second century, they brought a martyr before a king, and the king wanted him to recant and give up Christ and Christianity, but the man spurned the proposition. But the king said: "If you don't do it, I will banish you." The man smiled and answered: "You can't banish me from Christ, for He says He will never leave me nor forsake me." The king got angry, and said: "Well, I will confiscate your property and take it all from you." And the man replied: "My treasures are laid up on high; you can not get them." The king became still more angry, and said: "I will kill you." "Why," the man answered, "I have been dead forty years; I have been dead with Christ; dead to the world, and my life is hid with Christ in God, and you can not touch it." And so we can rejoice, because we are on resurrection ground, having risen with Christ. Let persecution and opposition come, we can rejoice continually, and remember that our reward is great, reserved for us unto the day when He who is our Life shall appear, and we shall appear with Him in glory. "THE Spirit, oh, sinner, In mercy doth move Thy heart, so long hardened, Of sin to reprove; _Resist_ not the Spirit, Nor longer delay; God's gracious entreaties may end with to-day. Oh, child of the kingdom, From sin service cease; Be filled with the Spirit, With comfort and peace. Oh, _grieve_ not the Spirit, Thy Teacher is He, That Jesus, thy Saviour, may glorified be. Defiled is the temple, Its beauty laid low, On God's holy altar The embers faint glow, By love yet rekindled, A flame may be fanned; Oh, _quench_ not the Spirit, _the Lord is at hand!_" --_P. P. Bliss._ CHAPTER V. POWER HINDERED. The strokes of the "Sword of the Spirit" alight only on the conscience, and its edge is anointed with a bairn to heal every wound it may inflict.--_Dr. J. Harris_. Every vain thought and idle word, and every wicked deed, is like so many drops to quench the Spirit of God. Some quench Him with the lust of the flesh; some quench Him with cares of the mind; some quench Him with long delays, that is, not plying the motion when it cometh, but crossing the good thoughts with bad thoughts, and doing a thing when the Spirit saith not. The Spirit is often grieved before He be quenched.--_H. Smith_. In times when vile men held the high places of the land, a roll of drums was employed to drown the martyr's voice, lest the testimony of truth from the scaffold should reach the ears of the people,--an illustration of how men deal with their own consciences, and seek to put to silence the truth-telling voice of the Holy Spirit.--_Arnot_. POWER HINDERED. ISRAEL, we are told, limited the Holy One of Israel. They vexed and grieved the Holy Spirit, and rebelled against His authority, but there is a special sin against Him, which we may profitably consider. The first description of it is in Matthew xii, 22d verse: THE UNPARDONABLE SIN. "Then was brought unto Him one possessed with a devil, blind and dumb; and He healed him, insomuch that the blind and dumb both spake and saw. And all the people were amazed, and said, Is not this the son of David? But when the Pharisees heard it, they said, This fellow doth not cast out devils, but by Beelzebub the prince of the devils. And Jesus knew their thoughts, and said unto them, Every kingdom divided against itself is brought to desolation; and every city or house divided against itself shall not stand. And if Satan cast out Satan, he is divided against himself; how shall then his kingdom stand? And if I by Beelzebub cast out devils, by whom do your children cast them out? therefore they shall be your judges. But if I cast out devils by the Spirit of God, then the kingdom of God is come unto you. Or else how can one enter into a strong man's house, and spoil his goods, except he first bind the strong man? and then he will spoil his house. He that is not with me is against me; and he that gathereth not with me, scattereth abroad. Wherefore I say unto you, all manner of sin and blasphemy shall be forgiven unto men; but the blasphemy against the Holy Ghost shall not be forgiven unto men. And whosoever speaketh a word against the Son of man, it shall be forgiven him; but whosoever speaketh against the Holy Ghost, it shall not be forgiven him, neither in this world, neither in the world to come." That is Matthew's account. Now let us read Mark's account in chapter iii, 21, etc.: "And when His friends heard of it, they went out to lay hold on Him, for they said: He (that is Christ) is beside Himself. And the scribes which came down from Jerusalem said, He hath Beelzebub, and by the prince of the devils casteth He out devils." The word Beelzebub means the Lord of Filth. They charged the Lord Jesus with being possessed not only with an evil spirit, but with a filthy spirit. "And He called them unto Him, and said unto them in parables, How can Satan cast out Satan? And if a kingdom be divided against itself, that kingdom can not stand. And if a house be divided against itself, that house can not stand. And if Satan rise up against himself, and be divided, he can not stand, but hath an end. No man can enter into a strong man's house, and spoil his goods, except he will first bind the strong man; and then he will spoil his house. Verily I say unto you, all sins shall be forgiven unto the sons of men, and blasphemies wherewith soever they shall blaspheme: But he that shall blaspheme against the Holy Ghost hath never forgiveness, but is in danger of eternal damnation." Now, if it stopped there, we would be left perhaps in darkness, and we would not exactly understand what the sin against the Holy Ghost is; but the next verse of this same chapter of Mark just throws light upon the whole matter, and we need not be in darkness another minute if we really want light; for observe, the verse reads: "Because they said, He hath an unclean spirit." Now, I have met a good many atheists and skeptics and deists and infidels, both in this country and abroad, but I never in my life met a man or woman who ever said that Jesus Christ was possessed of an unclean devil. Did you? I don't think you ever met such a person. I have heard men say bitter things against Christ, but I never heard any man stand up and say that he thought Jesus Christ was possessed with the devil, and that he cast out devils by the power of the devil; and I don't believe any man or woman has any right to say they have committed the unpardonable sin, unless they have maliciously, and wilfully and deliberately said that they believe that Jesus Christ had a devil in Him, and that He was under the power of the devil, and that He cast out devils by the power of the devil. Because you perhaps have heard some one say that there is such a thing as grieving the Spirit of God, and resisting the Spirit of God until He has taken His flight and left you, then you have said "That is the unpardonable sin." WHAT IT IS NOT. I admit there is such a thing as resisting the Spirit of God, and resisting till the Spirit of God has departed; but if the Spirit of God has left any, they will not be troubled about their sins. The very fact that they are troubled, shows that the Spirit of God has not left them. If a man is troubled about his sins, it is the work of the Spirit; for Satan never yet told him he was a sinner. Satan makes us believe that we are pretty good; that we are good enough without God, safe without Christ, and that we don't need salvation. But when a man wakes up to the fact that he is lost, that he is a sinner, that is the work of the Spirit; and if the Spirit of God had left him, he would not be in that state; and just because men and women want to be Christians, is a sign that the Spirit of God is drawing them. If resisting the Spirit of God is an unpardonable sin, then we have all committed it, and there is no hope for any of us; for I do not believe there is a minister, or a worker in Christ's vineyard, who has not, some time in his life, resisted the Holy Ghost; who has not some time in his life rejected the Spirit of God. To resist the Holy Ghost is one thing, and to commit that awful sin of blasphemy against the Holy Ghost, is another thing; and we want to take the Scripture and just compare them. Now, some people say, "I have such blasphemous thoughts; there are some awful thoughts that come into my mind against God," and they think that is the unpardonable sin. We are not to blame for having BAD THOUGHTS come into our minds. If we harbor them, then we are to blame. But if the devil comes and darts an evil thought into my mind, and I say, "Lord help me," sin is not reckoned to me. Who has not had evil thoughts come into his mind, flash into his heart, and been called to fight them! One old divine says, "You are not to blame for the birds that fly over your head, but if you allow them to come down and make a nest in your hair, then you are to blame. You are to blame if you don't fight them off." And so with these evil thoughts that come flashing into our minds; we have to fight them, we are not to harbor them; we are not to entertain them. If I have evil thoughts come into my mind, and evil desires, it is no sign that I have committed the unpardonable sin. If I love these thoughts and harbor them, and think evil of God, and think Jesus Christ a blasphemer, I am responsible for such gross iniquity; but if I charge Him with being the prince of devils, then I am committing the unpardonable sin. THE FAITHFUL FRIEND. Let us now consider the sin of "Grieving the Spirit." _Resisting_ the Holy Ghost is one thing, _grieving_ Him is another. Stephen charged the unbelieving Jews in the 7th chapter of Acts, "Ye do always resist the Holy Ghost as your fathers did, so do ye." The world has always been resisting the Spirit of God in all ages. That is the history of the world. The world is to-day resisting the Holy Spirit. "Faithful are the wounds of a friend." The Divine Spirit as a friend reveals to this poor world its faults, and the world only hates Him for it. He shows them the plague of their hearts. He convinces or convicts them of sin, therefore they fight the Spirit of God. I believe there is many a man resisting the Holy Ghost; I believe there is many a man to-day fighting against the Spirit of God. In the 4th chapter of Ephesians, in the 30th, 31st, and 32d verses, we read: "And grieve not the Holy Spirit of God, whereby ye are sealed unto the day of redemption. Let all bitterness, and wrath, and anger, and clamor, and evil speaking be put away from you, with all malice. And be ye kind, one to another, tender-hearted, forgiving one another, even as God for Christ's sake hath forgiven you." Now, mark you, that was written to the Church at Ephesus. "Grieve not the Holy Spirit, whereby ye are sealed unto the day of redemption." I believe today the Church all over Christendom is guilty of grieving the Holy Spirit. There are a good many believers in different churches wondering why the work of God is not revived. THE CHURCH GRIEVES THE SPIRIT. I think that if we search, we will find something in the Church grieving the Spirit of God; it may be a mere schism in the church; it may be some unsound doctrine; it may be some division in the Church. There is one thing I have noticed as I have traveled in different countries; I never yet have known the Spirit of God to work where the Lord's people were divided. There is one thing that we must have if we are to have the Holy Spirit of God to work in our midst, and that is unity. If a church is divided, the members should immediately seek unity. Let the believers come together and get the difficulty out of the way. If the minister of a church can not unite the people, if those that were dissatisfied will not fall in, it would be better for that minister to retire. I think there are a good many ministers in this country who are losing their time; they have lost, some of them, months and years; they have not seen any fruit, and they will not see any fruit, because they have a divided church. Such a church can not grow in divine things. The Spirit of God don't work where there is division, and what we want to-day is the spirit of unity amongst God's children, so that the Lord may work. WORLDLY AMUSEMENTS. Then, another thing, I think, that grieves the Spirit, is the miserable policy of introducing questionable entertainments. There are the lotteries, for instance, that we have in many churches. If a man wants to gamble, he doesn't have to go to some gambling den; he can stay in the church. And there are fairs--bazaars, as they call them--where they have rafflings and grab-bags. And if he wants to see a drama, he don't need to go to the theater, for many of our churches are turned into theaters; he may stay right in the church and witness the acting. I believe all these things grieve the Spirit of God. I believe when we bring the Church down to the level of the world to reach the world, we are losing all the while and grieving the Spirit of God. But some say, if we take that standard and lift it up high, it will drive away a great many members from our churches. I believe it, and I think the quicker they are gone the better. The world has come into the Church like a flood, and how often you find an ungodly choir employed to do the singing for the whole congregation; the idea that we need an ungodly man to sing praises to God! It was not long ago I heard of a church where they had an unconverted choir, and the minister saw something about the choir that he didn't like, and he spoke to the chorister, but the chorister replied: "You attend to your end of the church, and I will attend to mine." You can not expect the Spirit of God to work in a church in such a state as that. UNCONVERTED CHOIRS. Paul tells us not to speak in an unknown tongue, and if we have choirs who are singing in an unknown tongue, why is not that just as great an abomination? I have been in churches where they have had a choir, who would rise and sing, and sing, and it seemed as if they sung five or ten minutes, and I could not understand one solitary word they sung, and all the while the people were looking around carelessly. There are, perhaps, a select few, very fond of fine music, and they want to bring the opera right into the church, and so they have opera music in the church, and the people, who are drowsy and sleepy, don't take part in the singing. They hire ungodly men, unconverted men, and these men will sometimes get the Sunday paper, and get back in the organ loft, and the moment the minister begins his sermon, they will take out their papers and read them all the while that the minister is preaching. The organist, provided he does not go out for a walk--if he happens to keep awake, will read his paper, or, perhaps, a novel, while the minister is preaching; and the minister wonders why God don't revive His work; he wonders why he is losing his hold on the congregation; he wonders why people don't come crowding into the church; why people are running after the world instead of coming into the church. The trouble is that we have let down the standard; we have grieved the Spirit of God. One movement of God's power is worth more than all our artificial power, and what the Church of God wants to-day is to get down in the dust of humiliation and confession of sin, and go out and be separated from the world; and then see if we do not have power with God and with man. WHAT IS SUCCESS? The Gospel has not lost its power; it is just as powerful to-day as it ever has been. We don't want any new doctrine. It is still the old Gospel with the old power, the Holy Ghost power; and if the churches will but confess their sins and put them away, and lift the standard instead of pulling it down, and pray to God to lift us all up into a higher and holier life, then the fear of the Lord will come upon the people around us. It was when Jacob put away strange gods and set his face toward Bethel that the fear of God fell upon the nations around. And when the churches turn towards God, and we cease grieving the Spirit, so that He may work through us, we will then have conversions all the while. Believers will be added to the Church daily. It is sad when you look over Christendom and see how desolate it is, and see how little spiritual life, spiritual power, there is in the Church of God to-day, many of the church members not even wanting this Holy Ghost power. They don't desire it; they want intellectual power; they want to get some man who will just draw; and a choir that will draw; not caring whether any one is saved. With them that is not the question. Only fill the pews, have good society, fashionable people, and dancing; such persons are found one night at the theater and the next night at the opera. They don't like the prayer-meetings; they abominate them; if the minister will only lecture and entertain, that would suit them. I said to a man some time ago, "How are you getting on at your church?" "Oh, splendid." "Many conversions?" "Well--well, on that side we are not getting on so well. But," he said, "we rented all our pews and are able to pay all our running expenses; we are getting on splendidly." That is what the godless call "getting on splendidly;" because they rent the pews, pay the minister, and pay all the running expenses. Conversions! that is a strange thing. There was a man being shown through one of the cathedrals of Europe; he had come in from the country, and one of the men belonging to the cathedral was showing him around, when he inquired, "Do you have many conversions here?" "Many what?" "Many conversions here?" "Ah, man, this is not a Wesleyan chapel." The idea of there being conversions there! And you can go into a good many churches in this country and ask if they have many conversions there, and they would not know what it meant, they are so far away from the Lord; they are not looking for conversions, and don't expect them. SHIPWRECKS. Alas! how many young converts have made shipwreck against such churches. Instead of being a harbor of delight to them, they have proved false lights, alluring them to destruction. Isn't it time for us to get down on our faces before God and cry mightily to Him to forgive us our sins. The quicker we own it the better. You may be invited to a party, and it may be made up of church members, and what will be the conversation? Oh, I got so sick of such parties that I left years ago; I would not think of spending a night that way; it is a waste of time; there is hardly a chance to say a word for the Master. If you talk of a personal Christ, your company becomes offensive; they don't like it; they want you to talk about the world, about a popular minister, a popular church, a good organ, a good choir, and they say, "Oh, we have a grand organ, and a superb choir," and all that, and it suits them; but that don't warm the Christian heart. When you speak of a risen Christ and a personal Saviour, they don't like it; the fact is, the world has come into the church and taken possession of it, and what we want to do is to wake up and ask God to forgive us for "Grieving the Spirit." Dear reader, search your heart and inquire, Have I done anything to grieve the Spirit of God? If you have, may God show it to you to-day; if you have done any thing to grieve the Spirit of God, you want to know it to-day, and get down on your face before God and ask Him to forgive you and help you to put it away. I have lived long enough to know that if I can not have the power of the Spirit of God on me to help me to work for Him, I would rather die, than live just for the sake of living. How many are there in the church to-day, who have been members for fifteen or twenty years, but have never done a solitary thing for Jesus Christ? They can not lay their hands upon one solitary soul who has been blessed through their influence; they can not point to-day to one single person who has ever been lifted up by them. QUENCH NOT. In 1st Thessalonians, 5th chapter, we are told not to Quench the Spirit. Now, I am confident the cares of the world are coming in and quenching the Spirit with a great many. They say: "I don't care for the world;" perhaps not the _pleasures_ of the world so much after all as the _cares_ of this life; but they have just let the cares come in and quench the Spirit of God. Anything that comes between me and God--between my soul and God--quenches the Spirit. It may be my family. You may say: "Is there any danger of my loving my family too much?" Not if we love God more; but God must have the first place. If I love my family more than God, then I am quenching the Spirit of God within me; if I love wealth, if I love fame, if I love honor, if I love position, if I love pleasure, if I love self, more than I love God who created and saved me, then I am committing a sin; I am not only grieving the Spirit of God, but quenching Him, and robbing my soul of His power. EMBLEMS OF THE SPIRIT. But I would further call attention to the emblems of the Holy Spirit. An emblem is something that represents an object; the same as a balance is an emblem of justice, and a crown an emblem of royalty, and a scepter is an emblem of power; so we find in the 17th chapter of Exodus and 6th verse, that water is an emblem of the Holy Spirit. You find in the Smitten Rock, in the wilderness, the work of the Trinity illustrated. "Behold, I will stand before thee there upon the rock in Horeb; and thou shall smite the rock, and there shall come water out of it, that the people may drink. And Moses did so, in the sight of the elders of Israel." Paul declares, in Corinthians, that the rock was Christ; it represented Christ. God says: "I will stand upon the rock," and as Moses smote the rock the water came out, which was an emblem of the Holy Spirit; and it flowed out along through the camp; and they drank of the water. Now water is cleansing; it is fertilizing; it is refreshing; it is abundant, and it is freely given; and so the Spirit of God is the same: cleansing, fertilizing, refreshing, reviving, and He was freely given when the smitten Christ was glorified. Then, too, fire is an emblem of the Spirit; it is purifying, illuminating, searching. We talk about searching our hearts. We can not do it. What we want is to have God search them. O that God may search us and bring out the hidden things, the secret things that cluster there and bring them to light. The wind is another emblem. It is independent, powerful, sensible in its effects, and reviving; how the Spirit of God revives when He comes to all the drooping members of the Church. Then the rain and the dew--fertilizing, refreshing, abundant; and the dove, gentle--what more gentle than the dove; and the lamb?--gentle, meek, innocent, a sacrifice. We read of the wrath of God; we read of the wrath of the Lamb, but nowhere do we read of the wrath of the Holy Spirit--gentle, innocent, meek, loving; and that Spirit wants to take possession of our hearts. And He comes as a voice, another emblem--speaking, guiding, warning, teaching; and the seal--impressing, securing, and making us as His own. May we know Him in all His wealth of blessing. This is my prayer for myself--for you. 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34855	----	THE ABIDING PRESENCE OF THE HOLY GHOST IN THE SOUL BY BEDE JARRETT, O.P. THE NEWMAN BOOKSHOP Westminster, Maryland NIHIL OBSTAT A. R. P. RAPHAEL MOSS, O.P., S.T.L. R. P. AELRED WHITACRE, O.P., S.T.L. NIHIL OBSTAT ARTHUR J. SCANLAN, D.D. _Censor Deputatus_ IMPRIMATUR: JOHN CARD. FARLEY Archbishop of New York March 21st, 1918 Printed in the United States of America PREFACE In English-speaking countries the Church has been at a disadvantage in the way in which she has had to expound her doctrine, for she has been forced for many years to limit her attention just to those parts of her teaching wherein the Protestant bodies parted company from her. Without any desire to stir up barren controversy, she has naturally in self-defence been at pains most precisely to define those portions of her gospel most likely to be misunderstood. This has resulted, unfortunately, in her leaving in the background the other mysteries of faith, often richer in themselves, more helpful to her children. Now, however, that she is becoming more able to realize herself to the modern world, an opportunity opens for explaining hidden doctrines, of which the value to the Catholic in the development of his inner life is considerable. It is to further this development that these meditations have been drawn up, since hardly anything can render us more sensible of our worth and Christian dignity than does the teaching of Our Lord on the indwelling of the Spirit of God. Cardinal Manning has indeed made this the subject of two volumes, _The Internal Working of the Holy Ghost_ and _The Temporal Mission of the Holy Ghost_, which are still obtainable, and there are also such books as _Sermons on the Holy Ghost_ (Cathedral Library Association). But as yet in English there is no such direct exposition of Catholic teaching as Père Barthélemy Froget, O. P., has attempted in his _De l'Inhabitation du S. Esprit dans les ames justes_ (Lethielleux, Paris, 1890). Like nearly all the doctrinal works of French origin, this treatise seems at times to suppose among the laity a deeper knowledge of the rudiments of scholastic philosophy than usually obtains among us, though the author has endeavored to help this out by occasional notes or explanations. To avoid this difficulty (which a mere translation would not lessen, but increase), the material of the book has been rearranged in a series of meditations which will, it is hoped, bring out in an easier form what might otherwise be too abstruse to be of general interest. The wonderful beauty of the Church's teaching on this abiding presence of the Holy Ghost, while it deepens our acquaintance with His mysterious governance of the universe and discovers to us the hidden beauties of our soul's life, should bring also its measure of comfort, for whatever makes us conscious of the intimacy of God's dealing with us lessens life's greatest trouble, its loneliness. BEDE JARRETT, O. P. THE RECTORY OF OUR LADY OF LOURDES, _New York, February_ 11, 1918 TABLE OF CONTENTS PREFACE ENCYCLICAL LETTER OF LEO XIII, 9TH MAY, 1897 GOD'S PRESENCE DEGREES OF GOD'S PRESENCE GOD'S SPECIAL PRESENCE IN THE JUST NATURE OF THIS PRESENCE MODE OF THIS PRESENCE, KNOWLEDGE MODE OF THIS PRESENCE, LOVE THIS PRESENCE IS OF THE SAME NATURE AS THAT IN HEAVEN THIS PRESENCE COMMON TO THE WHOLE TRINITY THIS PRESENCE HAS CERTAIN EFFECTS FORGIVENESS OF SIN JUSTIFICATION DEIFICATION ADOPTED SONSHIP HEIRS OF GOD GUIDANCE IN SPIRITUAL LIFE GIFTS OF THE SPIRIT BEATITUDES FRUITS OF THE SPIRIT KNOWLEDGE UNDERSTANDING WISDOM COUNSEL FORTITUDE PIETY FEAR OF THE LORD GRACE THE ABIDING PRESENCE OF THE HOLY GHOST IN THE SOUL ENCYCLICAL LETTER FOR PENTECOST, 1897 [1] TO OUR VENERABLE BRETHREN, THE PATRIARCHS, PRIMATES, ARCHBISHOPS, BISHOPS, AND OTHER LOCAL ORDINARIES HAVING PEACE AND COMMUNION WITH THE HOLY SEE LEO XIII, POPE [1] This translation is the official form that appeared in the London _Tablet_, June 5, 1897. VENERABLE BRETHREN, HEALTH AND APOSTOLIC BENEDICTION That divine office which Jesus Christ received from His Father for the welfare of mankind, and most perfectly fulfilled, had for its final object to put men in possession of the eternal life of glory, and proximately during the course of ages to secure to them the life of divine grace, which is destined eventually to blossom into the life of heaven. Wherefore, our Saviour never ceases to invite, with infinite affection, all men, of every race and tongue, into the bosom of His Church: "Come ye all to Me," "I am the Life," "I am the Good Shepherd." Nevertheless, according to His inscrutable counsels, He did not will entirely to complete and finish this office Himself on earth, but as He had received it from the Father, so He transmitted it for its completion to the Holy Ghost. It is consoling to recall those assurances which Christ gave to the body of His disciples a little before He left the earth: "It is expedient to you that I go: for if I go not, the Paraclete will not come to you: but if I go, I will send Him to you" (1 John 16.7). In these words He gave as the chief reason of His departure and His return to the Father, the advantage which would most certainly accrue to His followers from the coming of the Holy Ghost, and, at the same time, He made it clear that the Holy Ghost is equally sent by--and therefore proceeds from-- Himself and the Father; that He would complete, in His office of Intercessor, Consoler, and Teacher, the work which Christ Himself had begun in His mortal life. For, in the redemption of the world, the completion of the work was by Divine Providence reserved to the manifold power of that Spirit who, in the creation, "adorned the heavens" (Job 26.13), and "filled the whole world" (Wisdom 1.7). THE TWO PRINCIPAL AIMS OF OUR PONTIFICATE Now We have earnestly striven, by the help of His grace, to follow the example of Christ, Our Saviour, the Prince of Pastors, and the Bishop of our Souls, by diligently carrying on His office, entrusted by Him to the Apostles and chiefly to Peter, "whose dignity faileth not, even in his unworthy successor" (St. Leo the Great, Sermon 2, On the Anniversary of his Election). In pursuance of this object We have endeavored to direct all that We have attempted and persistently carried out during a long pontificate towards two chief ends: in the first place, towards the restoration, both in rulers and peoples, of the principles of the Christian life in civil and domestic society, since there is no true life for men except from Christ; and, secondly, to promote the reunion of those who have fallen away from the Catholic Church either by heresy or by schism, since it is most undoubtedly the will of Christ that all should be united in one flock under one Shepherd. But now that We are looking forward to the approach of the closing days of Our life, Our soul is deeply moved to dedicate to the Holy Ghost, who is the life-giving Love, all the work We have done during Our pontificate, that He may bring it to maturity and fruitfulness. In order the better and more fully to carry out this Our intention, We have resolved to address you at the approaching sacred season of Pentecost concerning the indwelling and miraculous power of the Holy Ghost; and the extent and efficiency of His action, both in the whole body of the Church and in the individual souls of its members, through the glorious abundance of His divine graces. We earnestly desire that, as a result, faith may be aroused in your minds concerning the mystery of the adorable Trinity, and especially that piety may increase and be inflamed towards the Holy Ghost, to whom especially all of us owe the grace of following the paths of truth and virtue; for, as St. Basil said, "Who denieth that the dispensations concerning man, which have been made by the great God and our Saviour, Jesus Christ, according to the goodness of God, have been fulfilled through the grace of the Spirit?" (Of the Holy Ghost, c. 16, v. 39.) THE CATHOLIC DOCTRINE OF THE BLESSED TRINITY Before we enter upon this subject, it will be both desirable and useful to say a few words about the Mystery of the Blessed Trinity. This dogma is called by the doctors of the Church "the substance of the New Testament," that is to say, the greatest of all mysteries, since it is the fountain and origin of them all. In order to know and contemplate this mystery, the angels were created in Heaven and men upon earth. In order to teach more fully this mystery, which was but foreshadowed in the Old Testament, God Himself came down from the angels unto men: "No man hath seen God at any time; the only begotten Son, who is in the bosom of the Father, He hath declared Him" (John 1.18). Whosoever then writes or speaks of the Trinity must keep before his eyes the prudent warning of the Angelic Doctor: "When we speak of the Trinity, we must do so with caution and modesty, for, as St. Augustine saith, nowhere else are more dangerous errors made, or is research more difficult, or discovery more fruitful" (_Summ. Th._ 1a, q. 31. _De Trin._ 1. 1, c. 3). The danger that arises is lest the Divine Persons be confounded one with the other in faith or worship, or lest the one Nature in them be separated: for "This is the Catholic Faith, that we should adore one God in Trinity and Trinity in Unity." Therefore Our predecessor Innocent XII absolutely refused the petition of those who desired a special festival in honor of God the Father. For, although the separate mysteries connected with the Incarnate Word are celebrated on certain fixed days, yet there is no special feast on which the Word is honored according to His Divine Nature alone. And even the Feast of Pentecost was instituted in the earliest times, not simply to honor the Holy Ghost in Himself, but to commemorate His coming, or His external mission. And all this has been wisely ordained, lest from distinguishing the Persons men should be led to distinguish the Divine Essence. Moreover, the Church, in order to preserve in her children the purity of faith, instituted the Feast of the Most Holy Trinity, which John XXII afterwards extended to the Universal Church. He also permitted altars and churches to be dedicated to the Blessed Trinity, and, with the divine approval, sanctioned the Order for the Ransom of Captives, which is specially devoted to the Blessed Trinity and bears Its name. Many facts confirm this truth. The worship paid to the saints and angels, to the Mother of God, and to Christ Himself, finally redounds to the honor of the Blessed Trinity. In prayers addressed to one Person, there is also mention of the others; in the litanies after the individual Persons have been separately invoked, a common invocation of all is added: all psalms and hymns conclude with the doxology to the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost; blessings, sacred rites, and sacraments are either accompanied or concluded by the invocation of the Blessed Trinity. This was already foreshadowed by the Apostle in those words: "For of Him, and by Him, and in Him, are all things: to Him be glory for ever" (Rom. 11.36), thereby signifying both the Trinity of Persons and the Unity of Nature: for as this is one and the same in each of the Persons, so to each is equally owing supreme glory, as to one and the same God. St. Augustine, commenting upon this testimony, writes: "The words of the Apostle, _of Him, and by Him, and in Him_, are not to be taken indiscriminately; _of Him_ refers to the Father, _by Him_ to the Son, _in Him_ to the Holy Ghost" (_De Trin_. 1. vi, c. 10; 1. i, c. 6). The Church is accustomed most fittingly to attribute to the Father those works of the Divinity in which power excels, to the Son those in which wisdom excels, and those in which love excels to the Holy Ghost. Not that all perfections and external operations are not common to the Divine Persons; for "the operations of the Trinity are indivisible, even as the essence of the Trinity is indivisible" (St. Aug. _De Trin_., 1. 1, cc. 4-5); because as the three Divine Persons "are inseparable, so do they act inseparably" (St. Aug., _ib_). But by a certain comparison, and a kind of affinity between the operations and the properties of the Persons, these operations are attributed or, as it is said, "appropriated" to One Person rather than to the others. "Just as we make use of the traces of similarity or likeness which we find in creatures for the manifestation of the Divine Persons, so do we use Their essential attributes; and this manifestation of the Persons by Their essential attributes is called _appropriation_" (St. Th. 1a, q. 39, xxxix, a. 7). In this manner the Father, who is "the principle of the whole God-head" (St. Aug., _De Trin_., 1. iv, c. 20), is also the efficient cause of all things, of the Incarnation of the Word, and the sanctification of souls; "of Him are all things": _of Him_, referring to the Father. But the Son, the Word, the Image of God, is also the exemplar cause, whence all creatures borrow their form and beauty, their order and harmony. He is for us the Way, the Truth, and the Life; the Reconciler of man with God. "By Him are all things": _by Him_, referring to the Son. The Holy Ghost is the ultimate cause of all things, since, as the will and all other things finally rest in their end, so He, who is the Divine Goodness and the Mutual Love of the Father and Son, completes and perfects, by His strong yet gentle power, the secret work of man's eternal salvation. "In Him are all things": _in Him_, referring to the Holy Ghost. THE HOLY GHOST AND THE INCARNATION Having thus paid due tribute of faith and worship owing to the Blessed Trinity, which ought to be more and more inculcated upon the Christian people, we now turn to the exposition of the power of the Holy Ghost. And, first of all, we must look to Christ, the Founder of the Church and the Redeemer of our race. Among the external operations of God, the highest of all is the mystery of the Incarnation of the Word, in which the splendor of the divine perfections shines forth so brightly that nothing more sublime can even be imagined, nothing else could have been more salutary to the human race. Now this work, although belonging to the whole Trinity, is still appropriated especially to the Holy Ghost, so that the Gospels thus speak of the Blessed Virgin: "She was found with child of the Holy Ghost," and "that which is conceived in her is of the Holy Ghost" (Matt. 1.18, 20). And this is rightly attributed to Him who is the love of the Father and the Son, since this "great mystery of piety" (1 Tim. 3.16) proceeds from the infinite love of God towards man, as St. John tells us: "God so loved the world as to give His only begotten Son" (John 3.16). Moreover, human nature was thereby elevated to a _personal_ union with the Word; and this dignity is given, not on account of any merits, but entirely and absolutely through grace, and therefore, as it were, through the special gift of the Holy Ghost. On this point St. Augustine writes: "This manner in which Christ was born of the Holy Ghost, indicates to us the grace of God, by which humanity, with no antecedent merits, at the first moment of its existence, was united with the Word of God, by so intimate a personal union, that He, who was the Son of Man, was also the Son of God, and He who was the Son of God was also the Son of Man" (_Enchir_., c. xl; St. Th., 3a, q. xxxii, a. 1). By the operation of the Holy Spirit, not only was the conception of Christ accomplished, but also the sanctification of His soul, which, in Holy Scripture, is called His "anointing" (Acts 10.38). Wherefore all His actions were "performed in the Holy Ghost" (St. Basil _de Sp. S_., c. xvi), and especially the sacrifice of Himself: "Christ, through the Holy Ghost, offered Himself without spot to God" (Heb. 9.14). Considering this, no one can be surprised that all the gifts of the Holy Ghost inundated the soul of Christ. In Him resided the absolute fullness of grace, in the greatest and most efficacious manner possible; in Him were all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge, graces _gratis datae_, virtues, and all other gifts foretold in the prophecies of Isaias (Is. 4.1, 11.23), and also signified in that miraculous dove which appeared at the Jordan, when Christ, by His baptism, consecrated its waters for a new sacrament. On this the words of St. Augustine may appropriately be quoted: "It would be absurd to say that Christ received the Holy Ghost when He was already thirty years of age, for He came to His baptism without sin, and therefore not without the Holy Ghost. At this time, then (that is, at His baptism), He was pleased to prefigure His Church, in which those especially who are baptized receive the Holy Ghost" (_De Trin_., 1. xv, c. 26). Therefore, by the conspicuous apparition of the Holy Ghost over Christ and by His invisible power in His soul, the twofold mission of the Spirit is foreshadowed, namely, His outward and visible mission in the Church, and His secret indwelling in the souls of the just. THE HOLY GHOST AND THE CHURCH The Church which, already conceived, came forth from the side of the second Adam in His sleep on the Cross, first showed herself before the eyes of men on the great day of Pentecost. On that day the Holy Ghost began to manifest His gifts in the mystic body of Christ, by that miraculous outpouring already foreseen by the prophet Joel (2.28-29), for the Paraclete "sat upon the apostles as though new spiritual crowns were placed upon their heads in tongues of fire" (S. Cyril Hier. _Catech_. 17). Then the apostles "descended from the mountain," as St. John Chrysostom writes, "not bearing in their hands tables of stone like Moses, but carrying the Spirit in their mind, and pouring forth the treasure and the fountain of doctrines and graces" (_In Matt_. Hom. I, 2 Cor. 3.3). Thus was fully accomplished that last promise of Christ to His apostles of sending the Holy Ghost, who was to complete and, as it were, to seal the deposit of doctrine committed to them under His inspiration. "I have yet many things to say to you, but you cannot bear them now; but when He, the Spirit of Truth, shall come, He will teach you all truth" (John 16.12-13). For He who is the Spirit of Truth, inasmuch as He proceedeth both from the Father, who is the eternally True, and from the Son, who is the substantial Truth, receiveth from each both His essence and the fullness of all truth. This truth He communicates to His Church, guarding her by His all powerful help from ever falling into error, and aiding her to foster daily more and more the germs of divine doctrine and to make them fruitful for the welfare of the peoples. And since the welfare of the peoples, for which the Church was established, absolutely requires that this office should be continued for all time, the Holy Ghost perpetually supplies life and strength to preserve and increase the Church. "I will ask the Father, and He will give you another Paraclete, that He may abide with you for ever, the Spirit of Truth" (John 16. 16, 17). By Him the bishops are constituted, and by their ministry are multiplied not only the children, but also the fathers that is to say, the priests to rule and feed the Church by that Blood wherewith Christ has redeemed Her. "The Holy Ghost hath placed you bishops to rule the Church of God, which He hath purchased with His own Blood" (Acts 20. 28). And both bishops and priests, by the miraculous gift of the Spirit, have the power of absolving sins, according to those words of Christ to the Apostles: "Receive ye the Holy Ghost; whose sins you shall forgive they are forgiven them, and whose sins you shall retain they are retained" (John 20.22, 23). That the Church is a divine institution is most clearly proved by the splendor and glory of those gifts with which she is adorned, and whose author and giver is the Holy Ghost. Let it suffice to state that, as Christ is the Head of the Church, so is the Holy Ghost her soul. "What the soul is in our body, that is the Holy Ghost in Christ's body, the Church" (St. Aug., _Serm_. 187, _de Temp_.). This being so, no further and fuller "manifestation and revelation of the Divine Spirit" may be imagined or expected; for that which now takes place in the Church is the most perfect possible, and will last until that day when the Church herself, having passed through her militant career, shall be taken up into the joy of the saints triumphing in heaven. THE HOLY GHOST IN THE SOULS OF THE JUST The manner and extent of the action of the Holy Ghost in individual souls is no less wonderful, although somewhat more difficult to understand, inasmuch as it is entirely invisible. This outpouring of the Spirit is so abundant, that Christ Himself, from whose gift it proceeds, compares it to an overflowing river, according to those words of St. John: "He that believeth in Me, as the Scripture saith, out of his midst shall flow rivers of living water"; to which testimony the Evangelist adds the explanation: "Now this He said of the Spirit which they should receive who believed in Him" (John 7.38, 39). It is indeed true that in those of the just who lived before Christ, the Holy Ghost resided by grace, as we read in the Scriptures concerning the prophets, Zachary, John the Baptist, Simeon, and Anna; so that on Pentecost the Holy Ghost did not communicate Himself in such a way "as then for the first time to begin to dwell in the saints, but by pouring Himself forth more abundantly; crowning, not beginning His gifts; not commencing a new work, but giving more abundantly" (St. Leo the Great, Hom. iii, _de Pentec_.). But if they also were numbered among the children of God, they were in a state like that of servants, for "as long as the heir is a child he differeth nothing from a servant, but is under tutors and governors" (Gal. 4.1, 2). Moreover, not only was their justice derived from the merits of Christ who was to come, but the communication of the Holy Ghost after Christ was much more abundant, just as the price surpasses in value the earnest and the reality excels the image. Wherefore St. John declares: "As yet the Spirit was not given, because Jesus was not yet glorified" (John 7.39). So soon, therefore, as Christ, "ascending on high," entered into possession of the glory of His Kingdom which He had won with so much labor, He munificently opened out the treasures of the Holy Ghost: "He gave gifts to men" (Eph. 4.8). For "that giving or sending forth of the Holy Ghost after Christ's glorification was to be such as had never been before; not that there had been none before, but it had not been of the same kind" (St. Aug., _De Trin_., 1. iv, c. 20). Human nature is by necessity the servant of God: "The creature is a servant; we are the servants of God by nature" (St. Cyr. Alex., _Thesaur_., 1. v, c. 5). On account, however, of original sin, our whole nature had fallen into such guilt and dishonor that we had become enemies of God. "We were by nature the children of wrath" (Eph. 2.3). There was no power which could raise us and deliver us from this ruin and eternal destruction. But God, the Creator of mankind and infinitely merciful, did this through His only begotten Son, by whose benefit it was brought about that man was restored to that rank and dignity whence he had fallen, and was adorned with still more abundant graces. No one can express the greatness of this work of divine grace in the souls of men. Wherefore, both in Holy Scripture and in the writings of the fathers, men are styled regenerated, new creatures, partakers of the Divine Nature, children of God, godlike, and similar epithets. Now these great blessings are justly attributed as especially belonging to the Holy Ghost. He is "the Spirit of adoption of sons, whereby we cry: Abba, Father." He fills our hearts with the sweetness of paternal love: "The Spirit Himself giveth testimony to our spirit that we are the sons of God" (Rom. 8.15, 16). This truth accords with the similitude observed by the Angelic Doctor between both operations of the Holy Ghost; for through Him "Christ was conceived in holiness to be by nature the Son of God," and "others are sanctified to be the sons of God by adoption" (St. Th. 3a, q. xxxii, a. 1). This spiritual generation proceeds from love in a much more noble manner than the natural: namely, from the uncreated Love. The beginnings of this regeneration and renovation of man are by Baptism. In this sacrament, when the unclean spirit has been expelled from the soul, the Holy Ghost enters in and makes it like to Himself. "That which is born of the Spirit, is spirit" (John 3.6). The same Spirit gives Himself more abundantly in Confirmation, strengthening and confirming Christian life; from which proceeded the victory of the martyrs and the triumph of the virgins over temptations and corruptions. We have said that the Holy Ghost gives Himself: "the charity of God is poured out into our hearts by the Holy Ghost who is given to us" (Rom. 5.5). For He not only brings to us His divine gifts, but is the Author of them and is Himself the supreme Gift, who, proceeding from the mutual love of the Father and the Son, is justly believed to be and is called "Gift of God most High." To show the nature and efficacy of this gift it is well to recall the explanation given by the doctors of the Church of the words of Holy Scripture. They say that God is present and exists in all things, "by His power, in so far as all things are subject to His power; by His presence, inasmuch as all things are naked and open to His eyes; by His essence, inasmuch as He is present to all as the cause of their being" (St. Th. 1a, q. viii, a. 3). But God is in man, not only as in inanimate things, but because He is more fully known and loved by him, since even by nature we spontaneously love, desire, and seek after the good. Moreover, God by grace resides in the just soul as in a temple, in a most intimate and peculiar manner. From this proceeds that union of affection by which the soul adheres most closely to God, more so than the friend is united to his most loving and beloved friend, and enjoys God in all fullness and sweetness. Now this wonderful union, which is properly called "indwelling," differing only in degree or state from that with which God beatifies the saints in heaven, although it is most certainly produced by the presence of the whole Blessed Trinity-- "We will come to Him and make our abode with Him" (John 14.23)-- nevertheless is attributed in a peculiar manner to the Holy Ghost. For, whilst traces of divine power and wisdom appear even in the wicked man, charity, which, as it were, is the special mark of the Holy Ghost, is shared in only by the just. In harmony with this, the same Spirit is called Holy, for He, the first and supreme Love, moves souls and leads them to sanctity, which ultimately consists in the love of God. Wherefore the apostle, when calling us the temple of God, does not expressly mention the Father or the Son, but the Holy Ghost: "Know ye not that your members are the temple of the Holy Ghost, who is in you, whom you have from God?" (1 Cor. 6.19). The fullness of divine gifts is in many ways a consequence of the indwelling of the Holy Ghost in the souls of the just. For, as St. Thomas teaches, "when the Holy Ghost proceedeth as love, He proceedeth in the character of the first gift; whence St. Augustine saith that, through the gift which is the Holy Ghost, many other special gifts are distributed among the members of Christ" (Summ. Th., 1a, q. xxxviii, a. 2. St. Aug., _de Trin_., 1. xv, c. 19). Among these gifts are those secret warnings and invitations, which from time to time are excited in our minds and hearts by the inspiration of the Holy Ghost. Without these there is no beginning of a good life, no progress, no arriving at eternal salvation. And since these words and admonitions are uttered in the soul in an exceedingly secret manner, they are sometimes aptly compared in Holy Writ to the breathing of a coming breeze, and the Angelic Doctor likens them to the movements of the heart which are wholly hidden in the living body. "Thy heart has a certain hidden power, and therefore the Holy Ghost, who invisibly vivifies and unites the Church, is compared to the heart" (_Summ. Th_., 3a, q. vii, a. 1, ad 3). More than this, the just man, that is to say, he who lives the life of divine grace, and acts by the fitting virtues as by means of faculties, has need of those seven _gifts_ which are properly attributed to the Holy Ghost. By means of them the soul is furnished and strengthened so as to be able to obey more easily and promptly His voice and impulse. Wherefore these gifts are of such efficacy that they lead the just man to the highest degree of sanctity; and of such excellence that they continue to exist even in heaven, though in a more perfect way. By means of these gifts the soul is excited and encouraged to seek after and attain the evangelical beatitudes, which, like the flowers that come forth in the spring time, are the signs and harbingers of eternal beatitude. Lastly, there are those blessed _fruits_, enumerated by the Apostle (Gal. 5.22), which the Spirit, even in this mortal life, produces and shows forth in the just; fruits filled with all sweetness and joy, inasmuch as they proceed from the Spirit, "who is in the Trinity the sweetness of both Father and Son, filling all creatures with infinite fullness and profusion" (St. Aug. _de Trin_., 1. vi, c. 9). The Divine Spirit, proceeding from the Father and the Word in the eternal light of sanctity, Himself both Love and Gift, after having manifested Himself through the veils of figures in the Old Testament, poured forth all His fullness upon Christ and upon His mystic Body, the Church; and called back by His presence and grace men who were going away in wickedness and corruption with such salutary effect that, being no longer of the earth earthy, they relished and desired quite other things, becoming of heaven heavenly. ON DEVOTION TO THE HOLY GHOST These sublime truths, which so clearly show forth the infinite goodness of the Holy Ghost towards us, certainly demand that we should direct towards Him the highest homage of our love and devotion. Christians may do this most effectually if they will daily strive to know Him, to love Him, and to implore Him more earnestly; for which reason may this Our exhortation, flowing spontaneously from a paternal heart, reach their ears. Perchance there are still to be found among them, even nowadays, some who, if asked, as were those of old by St. Paul the Apostle, whether they have received the Holy Ghost, might answer in like manner: "We have not so much as heard whether there be a Holy Ghost" (Acts 19.2). At least there are certainly many who are very deficient in their knowledge of Him. They frequently use His name in their religious practices, but their faith is involved in much darkness. Wherefore all preachers and those having care of souls should remember that it is their duty to instruct their people more diligently and more fully about the Holy Ghost--avoiding, however, difficult and subtle controversies, and eschewing the dangerous folly of those who rashly endeavor to pry into divine mysteries. What should be chiefly dwelt upon and clearly explained is the multitude and greatness of the benefits which have been bestowed, and are constantly bestowed, upon us by this Divine Giver, so that errors and ignorance concerning matters of such moment may be entirely dispelled, as unworthy of "the children of light." We urge this, not only because it affects a mystery by which we are directly guided to eternal life, and which must therefore be firmly believed; but also because the more clearly and fully the good is known the more earnestly it is loved. Now we owe to the Holy Ghost, as we mentioned in the second place, love, because He is God: "Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with thy whole heart, and with thy whole soul, and with thy whole strength" (Deut. 6.5). He is also to be loved because He is the substantial, eternal, primal Love, and nothing is more lovable than love. And this all the more because He has overwhelmed us with the greatest benefits, which both testify to the benevolence of the Giver and claim the gratitude of the receiver. This love has a twofold and most conspicuous utility. In the first place, it will excite us to acquire daily a clearer knowledge about the Holy Ghost; for, as the Angelic Doctor says, "the lover is not content with the superficial knowledge of the beloved, but striveth to inquire intimately into all that appertains to the beloved, and thus to penetrate into the interior; as is said of the Holy Ghost, Who is the Love of God, that He searcheth even the profound things of God" (1 Cor. 2.19; _Summ. Theol_., 1a, 2ae, q. 28, a. 2). In the second place, it will obtain for us a still more abundant supply of heavenly gifts; for whilst a narrow heart contracteth the hand of the giver, a grateful and mindful heart causeth it to expand. Yet we must strive that this love should be of such a nature as not to consist merely in dry speculations or external observances, but rather to run forward towards action, and especially to fly from sin, which is in a more special manner offensive to the Holy Spirit. For whatever we are, that we are by the divine goodness; and this goodness is specially attributed to the Holy Ghost. The sinner offends this his Benefactor, abusing His gifts; and taking advantage of His goodness becomes more hardened in sin day by day. Again, since He is the Spirit of Truth, whosoever faileth by weakness or ignorance may perhaps have some excuse before Almighty God; but he who resists the truth through malice and turns away from it, sins most grievously against the Holy Ghost. In our days this sin has become so frequent that those dark times seem to have come which were foretold by St. Paul, in which men, blinded by the just judgment of God, should take falsehood for truth, and should believe in "the prince of this world," who is a liar and the father thereof, as a teacher of truth: "God shall send them the operation of error, to believe lying" (2 Thess. 2.10). "In the last times some shall depart from the faith, giving heed to spirits of error and the doctrines of devils" (1 Tim. 4.1). But since the Holy Ghost, as We have said, dwells in us as in His temple, We must repeat the warning of the Apostle: "Grieve not the Holy Spirit of God, whereby you are sealed" (Eph. 4.30). Nor is it enough to fly from sin; every Christian ought to shine with the splendor of virtue so as to be pleasing to so great and so beneficent a guest; and first of all with chastity and holiness, for chaste and holy things befit the temple. Hence the words of the Apostle: "Know you not that you are the temple of God, and that the Spirit of God dwelleth in you? But if any man violate the temple of God, him shall God destroy. For the temple of God is holy, which you are" (1 Cor. 3.16-17): a terrible, indeed, but a just warning. Lastly, we ought to pray to and invoke the Holy Spirit, for each one of us greatly needs His protection and His help. The more a man is deficient in wisdom, weak in strength, borne down with trouble, prone to sin, so ought he the more to fly to Him who is the never-ceasing fount of light, strength, consolation, and holiness. And chiefly that first requisite of man, the forgiveness of sins, must be sought for from Him: "It is the special character of the Holy Ghost that He is the Gift of the Father and the Son. Now the remission of sins is given by the Holy Ghost as by the Gift of God" (_Summ. Th_., 3a, q. iii, a. 8, ad 3m). Concerning this Spirit the words of the Liturgy are very explicit: "For He is the remission of all sins" (Roman Missal, Tuesday after Pentecost). How He should be invoked is clearly taught by the Church, who addresses Him in humble supplication, calling upon Him by the sweetest of names: "Come, Father of the poor! Come, Giver of gifts! Come, Light of our hearts! O, best of Consolers, sweet Guest of the soul, our refreshment!" (Hymn, _Veni Sancte Spiritus_). She earnestly implores Him to wash, heal, water our minds and hearts, and to give to us who trust in Him "the merit of virtue, the acquirement of salvation, and joy everlasting." Nor can it be in any way doubted that He will listen to such prayer, since we read the words written by His own inspiration: "The Spirit Himself asketh for us with unspeakable groanings" (Rom. 8.26). Lastly, we ought confidently and continually to beg of Him to illuminate us daily more and more with His light and inflame us with His charity: for, thus inspired with faith and love, we may press onward earnestly towards our eternal reward, since He "is the pledge of our inheritance" (Eph. 1.14). Such, Venerable Brethren, are the teachings and exhortations which We have seen good to utter, in order to stimulate devotion to the Holy Ghost. We have no doubt that, chiefly by means of your zeal and earnestness, they will bear abundant fruit among Christian peoples. We Ourselves shall never in the future fail to labor towards so important an end; and it is even Our intention, in whatever ways may appear suitable, to further cultivate and extend this admirable work of piety. Meanwhile, as two years ago, in Our Letter _Provida Matris_, We recommended to Catholics special prayers at the Feast of Pentecost, for the Reunion of Christendom, so now We desire to make certain further decrees on the same subject. AN ANNUAL NOVENA DECEEED Wherefore, We decree and command that throughout the whole Catholic Church, this year and in every subsequent year, a Novena shall take place before Whit-Sunday, in all parish churches, and also, if the local Ordinaries think fit, in other churches and oratories. To all who take part in this Novena and duly pray for Our intention, We shall grant for each day an Indulgence of seven years and seven quarantines; moreover, a Plenary Indulgence on any one of the days of the Novena, or on Whit-Sunday itself, or on any day during the Octave; provided they shall have received the Sacraments of Penance and the Holy Eucharist, and devoutly prayed for Our intention. We will that those who are legitimately prevented from attending the Novena, or who are in places where the devotions cannot, in the judgment of the Ordinary, be conveniently carried out in church, shall equally enjoy the same benefits, provided they make the Novena privately and observe the other conditions. Moreover, We are pleased to grant, in perpetuity, from the Treasury of the Church, that whosoever, daily, during the Octave of Pentecost up to Trinity Sunday inclusive, offer again publicly or privately any prayers, according to their devotion, to the Holy Ghost, and satisfy the above conditions, shall a second time gain each of the same Indulgences. All these Indulgences We also permit to be applied to the suffrage of the souls in Purgatory. And now Our mind and heart turn back to those hopes with which We began, and for the accomplishment of which We earnestly pray, and will continue to pray, to the Holy Ghost. Unite, then, Venerable Brethren, your prayers with Ours, and at your exhortation let all Christian peoples add their prayers also, invoking the powerful and ever-acceptable intercession of the Blessed Virgin. You know well the intimate and wonderful relations existing between her and the Holy Ghost, so that she is justly called His Spouse. The intercession of the Blessed Virgin was of great avail both in the mystery of the Incarnation and in the coming of the Holy Ghost upon the Apostles. May she continue to strengthen our prayers with her suffrages, that, in the midst of all the stress and trouble of the nations, those divine prodigies may be happily revived by the Holy Ghost, which were foretold in the words of David: "Send forth Thy Spirit and they shall be created, and Thou shalt renew the face of the earth" (Ps. 103.30). As a pledge of Divine favor and a testimony of Our affection, Venerable Brethren, to you, to your Clergy and people, We gladly impart in the Lord the Apostolic Benediction. Given at St. Peter's, in Rome, on the 9th day of May, 1897, in the 20th year of Our Pontificate. LEO XIII, POPE. GOD'S PRESENCE 1. Scripture is very full of the idea of the nearness of God to His creation, the Old Testament is alive with that inspiration, for there is hardly a chapter or verse that does not insist upon that truth. Naturally the New Testament, teaching so tenderly the Fatherhood of God, is even more explicit and more beautiful in its references to this intimate relationship. To the Athenians, St. Paul can develop no other point than this, and he finds in moving accents an eloquent appeal voiced by the touching dedication of an altar to the _Unknown God_. Now this notion of God's nearness to His world depends for its full appreciation on the central doctrine of creation. He has made the world, in consequence it is impressed with His personality; the more vigorous the artificer-- the more vigorous that he is in character, will and personality, the more is his work stamped with his individuality; hence, the tremendous personality of God must be everywhere traceable in the things He has made. 2. When we say God is everywhere, we mean that He is in all things because He made all things. Not only does the whole world lie outstretched before His eye and is governed by His power, but He Himself lurks at the heart of everything. By Him things have come into existence, and so wholly is that existence of theirs His gift, that were He to withdraw His support they would sink back into nothingness. It is a perpetual remark about man's works that they outlast him. Organizations we have toiled to establish outgrow our fostering care, perhaps grow tired of our interference and long to be free of our regulations. Wordsworth tells how a monk in Spain, pointing to the pictures on the walls of the monastery, which remained while the generations looking at them passed away, judged: "We are the shadows, they the substance." But the relationship established by creation is of a far greater dependence, so that nothing God has made can exist without His support. Out of human acts it is only music that bears some resemblance to this, for when the voice is silent there is no longer any song. 3. God, then, is within all creation, because He is its cause. He is within every stone and leaf and child. Nothing, with life or without, evil or good, can fail to contain Him as the source of its energy, its power, its existence; He is "the soul's soul." Not only, therefore, must I train myself to see with reverence that everything contains Him, but I must especially realize His intimacy and relationship to myself. Religion, indeed, in practice is little else than my personal expression of that relationship. I have in my prayers, in my troubles, in my temptations, to turn to God, not without but within, not to some one above me or beneath supporting me, but right at the core of my being. I can trace up to its source every power of my soul, my intelligence, my will, my love, my anger, my fear, and I shall find Him there. Nothing but opens its doors to Him as innermost in its shrine. Wholly is God everywhere, not as some immense being that with its hugeness fills the world, but as something that is within every creature He has made. DEGREES OF GOD'S PRESENCE 1. God is intimate with all creation because He made it, for creation implies that God remains within, supporting, upholding. God is within everything, and therefore He is everywhere. But while we thus believe that God is wholly everywhere, we also believe something which seems the exact opposite, for we believe that God is more in some places than in others, more in some people than in others. How is it if God is wholly everywhere that He can be more here than there? To understand this we must also understand that every created thing shares somehow in God's being. He communicates Himself to it in some fashion, for apart from Him it could have no perfections. We have a way of saying that we reflect God's greatness and that we are "broken lights" of Him. But that is far short of the truth; we do more than reflect, we actually have some participation in God, so that St. Thomas boldly takes over a saying of Plato: "The individual nature of a thing consists in the way it participates in the perfections of God" (_Summa_ 1, 14.6). Not, of course, that there is any community of being, but a direct participation. 2. Now since everything participates in God and since some things are more excellent than others, it stands to reason that some things express God better than others. The eyes of a dog often are pitiful to see, because we can note its evident desire and yet its impossibility to express its feelings. The whole of nature has to seeing minds the same pitifulness. It is always endeavoring to express God, the inexpressible. Yet the higher a thing is in the scale of being the more of God it expresses, for it participates more in God's being. The more life a thing has and the more freedom it acquires, then the nearer does it approach to God and the more divinity it holds. Man, by his intelligence, his deeper and richer life, his finer freedom, stands at the head of visible creation, and, in consequence, is more fully a shrine of God than lower forms of life. He bears a closer resemblance to the Divine intelligence and will and has a greater share in them. It is then in that sense that we arrange in ascending order inanimate creation, the vegetable kingdom, the animal kingdom, and man. 3. Consequently we can now see in what sense God is said to be more in one thing than in another. He is more in it because He exercises Himself more in one thing than in another; one thing expresses more than another the perfections of God because it shares more deeply than another that inner being of God. The more nearly anything or anyone is united to God the more does His power exercise itself in them, so that, since God's gifts are variously distributed and are of various degrees, we are justified in saying that though He is wholly everywhere, He may be more fully here than there, just as, though my soul is in every part of my being, it is more perfectly in the brain than elsewhere, because there it exercises itself more fully and with more evidence of expression. Thus we say God is more in a man's soul than anywhere else in creation, since in a man's soul God is more perfectly expressed. It is therefore with great reverence that I should regard all creation, but with especial reverence that I should look to the dignity of every human soul. GOD'S SPECIAL PRESENCE IN THE JUST 1. While God is in everything in creation, He dwells in the just by grace. Scripture quite noticeably uses the word _dwelling_ when it wishes to express the particular way in which God is present in the souls of the just. He is in all things; in the just He dwells. The same word actually is applied to the presence of God in the souls of those in grace as is used when speaking of God's presence in the Temple. But here again it is necessary to say that God's dwelling in the Temple never implied He was not elsewhere, but did imply that somehow His presence in the Temple was quite different from the way in which He was present elsewhere. Just then the same kind of difference between the presence of God in all created nature and His presence in the souls of the just is intended by the careful use in Scripture of the word dwelling, viz., that God has, over and above His ordinary presence in every single created thing, a further and especial presence in the hearts of those in friendship with Him by grace, and this new presence is a fuller and richer presence whereby God's excellencies and perfections are more openly displayed. 2. Another way in which the same idea is pressed home in the New Testament is by the word _sent_ or _given_. Frequently, in the last discourse of Our Lord on the night before He suffered, He spoke to the Apostles of the Holy Spirit, the Paraclete, the Comforter who was to be sent or given. Now, ordinarily, by using the expression, "sending some one," we imply that now the person sent is where he was not before, that he has passed from here to there. Obviously Our Lord cannot really mean that only after His crucifixion and ascension would the Holy Ghost be found in the hearts of the Apostles, for we have already insisted that in every creature there must be, by virtue of its very creation, the Holy Spirit at the heart of it. Hence the only possible meaning is that the Holy Spirit will descend upon the Apostles and become present within them after some new fashion in which He was not before. "Because you are His children God has sent into your hearts the spirit of His Son whereby you cry Abba: Father" (Gal. 4.6). From the beginning the Holy Ghost had been within them; now His presence there is new and productive of new effects. 3. By God's indwelling, then, effected by grace, the Holy Spirit now is present in the soul differently from the way in which He is present by creation. By creation He is wholly everywhere, yet more in the higher forms than in the lower, for He is able to express more of Himself in them. Among these highest forms of visible creation, namely, man, there are again degrees of His presence, so that even among men He is more in one than in another. This gradation is in proportion to their grace. The more holy and sanctified they become, the more does the Holy Spirit dwell in them, the more fully is He sent, the more completely given, while the Book of Wisdom says expressly that God does not dwell in sinners. As soon as I am in a state of grace the Holy Ghost dwells in me in this new and wonderful way, takes up His presence in me in this new fashion. It is precisely, then, by our faith and hope and love that this is effected, so that the individual soul under God's own movement does help on this union of God and man. In all the rest of creation God is present by His action; in the souls of the just it is true to say that He is present by theirs. NATURE OF THIS PRESENCE 1. We have taken it for granted that God then is present somehow in the soul by grace. We have now to consider what sort of a presence this really is. Do we mean absolutely that God the Holy Ghost, is truly in the soul Himself, or do we, by some metaphor or vague expression, mean that He is merely exerting Himself there in some new and especial way? Perhaps it is only that by means of the sevenfold gifts He has got a tighter hold of us and can bring us more completely under the sweet dominion of His will. All that is true, but all that is not enough, for we do absolutely mean what we say when we declare that by grace the Holy Spirit of God is present within the soul. Scripture is exceedingly full of the truth of this and is always insisting on this presence of the Holy Ghost. St. Paul, especially, notes it over and over again, and in his epistle to the Romans repeats it in very forcible language: "But you are not in the flesh but in the spirit, if so be that the spirit of God dwell in you" (Romans 8.9), and he goes on in that same chapter to imply that this presence is a part of grace. 2. To some it will seem curious to find that the Fathers of the Church in earliest ages were not only convinced of the fact of this presence, but appealed triumphantly to it as accepted even by heretics. When, in the early days, a long controversy raged as to whether the Holy Ghost was really God or not, the Fathers argued that since this indwelling of the Spirit was acknowledged on all hands, and since it was proper to God only to dwell in the heart of man, the only possible conclusion was that the Holy Ghost was Divine. The value of the argument is not here in question, but it is interesting to find that this presence was so generally believed in as part of the Christian Faith. In the acts of the martyrs, too, there are frequent references to this, as when St. Lucy declared to the judge that the Spirit of God dwelt in her, and that her body was in very truth the temple and shrine of God. Again, Eusebius relates in his history that Leonidas, the father of Origen, used to kneel by the bedside of the sleeping boy and devoutly and reverently kiss his breast as the tabernacle wherein God dwelt. The child in his innocence and grace is indeed the fittest home on earth for God. 3. This presence, then, of God in the soul is a real, true presence, as real and as true as the presence of Our Lord Himself in the Blessed Sacrament of the Eucharist. We look on all that mystery as very wonderful, and indeed it is, that day by day we can be made one with God the Son by receiving His Body and Blood; we know the value to be got out of visits to His hidden presence, the quiet and calm peace such visits produce in our souls; yet so long as we are in a state of grace the same holds true of the Holy Spirit within us. We are not indeed made one with the Holy Ghost in a substantial union such as united together in the Sacred Incarnation God and man; nor is there any overpowering of our personality so that it is swamped by a Divine Person, but we retain it absolutely. The simplest comparison is our union with Our Lord in the Holy Eucharist, wherein we receive Him really and truly and are made partakers of His divinity. By grace, then, we receive really and truly God the Holy Ghost and are made partakers of His divinity. If, then, we genuflect to the tabernacle in which the Blessed Sacrament is reserved and treat our Communions as the most solemn moments of our day, then equally we must hold in reverence every simple soul in a state of grace, the souls of others and our own. THE MODE OF THIS PRESENCE: OBJECT OF KNOWLEDGE 1. The fact, then, of this presence has been established and its nature explained. It is a real presence, a real union between the soul and God the Holy Ghost. We have, however, a further point to elucidate, the mode whereby this presence is effected. Now this is twofold in so far as this presence of the Spirit affects the mind and heart of man. First, then, we take the knowledge of God that by this presence is generated in the soul. By natural knowledge we can argue not only to the existence of God, but in some way also to His nature. Not only do we know from the world which He has made that He certainly must Himself have a true existence, but we can even, gradually and carefully, though certainly with some vagueness, argue to God's own divine attributes. His intelligence is evident, His power, His wisdom, His beauty, His providence, His care for created nature. The pagans merely from the world about them painfully, and after many years and with much admixture of error, could yet in the end have their beautiful thoughts about God, and by some amazing instinct have stumbled upon truths which Christianity came fully to establish. The writings of Plato and Aristotle, of some Eastern teachers, of some of the Kings and priests of Egypt, are evidences of the possibility of the natural knowledge about God. 2. Faith, then, came as something over and above the possibilities of nature, not merely as regards the contents, but also as regards the kind of knowledge. Reason argues to God, and, therefore, attains God indirectly. It is like getting an application by letter from an unknown person and guessing his character from the handwriting, the paper, the ink, the spelling, the style. Possibly by this means a very fair estimate may be formed of his capacities and his fitness for the position which we desire him to fill. But faith implies a direct contact with the person who has written the letter. Before us is spread what Longfellow has called "the manuscript of God," and from it we argue to God's character. Then faith comes and puts us straight into connection with God Himself. Theological virtues are the names given to faith, hope, and charity, because they all have God for their direct and proper object. Faith then attains to the very substance of God. It is indeed inadequate in so far as all human forms of thought can only falteringly represent God as compared with the fullness that shall be revealed hereafter, still for all that it gives us, not indirect but direct knowledge of Him. I do not argue by faith to what God is like from seeing His handiwork; but I know what He is like from His descriptions of Himself. 3. Now the indwelling of the Spirit of God gives us a knowledge of God even more wonderful than faith gives, for even faith has to be content with God's descriptions of Himself. In faith I am indeed listening to a Person Who is telling me all about Himself. He is the very truth and all He says is commended to me by the most solemn and certain of motives; but I am still very far from coming absolutely into direct and absolute experience of God. That, indeed, fully and absolutely, can be achieved only in Heaven. It is only there in the beatific vision that the veils will be wholly torn aside and there will be a face to face sight of God, no longer by means of created, and therefore limited, ideas, but an absolute possession of God Himself. Yet though absolutely I must wait for Heaven before I can achieve this, it is none the less true that I can begin it on earth by means of this indwelling of the Spirit of God. This real presence of God in my soul can secure for me what is called an experimental knowledge of God, such as undoubtedly I do have. It is not only that I believe, but I know. Not only have I been told about God, but, at least, in passing glimpses, I have seen Him. We may almost say to the Church what the men of Sichar said to the woman of Samaria, "We now believe, not for thy saying, for we ourselves have heard and know" (John 4.42). "For the Spirit Himself giveth testimony to our spirit that we are the sons of God" (Romans 8.16). MODE OF THIS PRESENCE: OBJECT OF LOVE 1. There is something that unites us more closely to our friends than knowledge does, and this is love. Knowledge may teach us about them, may unlock for us gradually throughout life ever more wonderful secrets of their goodness and strength and loyalty. But knowledge of itself pushes us irresistibly on to something more. The more we know of that which is worth knowing, the more we must love it. Now love is greater than knowledge whenever knowledge itself does not really unite us to the object of our knowledge, so that St. Paul can deliberately put charity above faith, since faith is the knowledge of God by means of ideas which are themselves created and limited and inadequate, while charity sweeps us up and carries us right along to God Himself. Hence it was an axiom among the mediæval theologians that love is more unifying than knowledge, so that in the real indwelling of the Holy Spirit in our hearts we must expect to find not only that He is the object of our intelligence, but also that He has a place in our hearts. Indeed, it is impossible to conceive any experimental knowledge which does not also include in it the notion of love. 2. This love or friendship between ourselves and the Holy Spirit, if by friendship we mean anything like that of which we have experience in our human relations, implies three things. First of all, friendship implies that we do not love people for what we can get out of them, for that would be an insult to a friend, for it would mean selfishness or even animal passion. Friendship implies that we come for what we can give far more than that we come for what we can get. We love because we have helped is more often the true order of the origins of friendship than we help because we have loved. Secondly, friendship to be complete must be mutual. There may indeed be love when some poor, forlorn soul is here never requited in its affection, but that is not what we mean by a friend or by friendship. Friendship implies action, a fellow feeling, a desire for each other, a sympathy. Thirdly, friendship also implies necessarily a common bond of likeness, or similarity of condition or life, some equality. Of course it is evident from classic instances that friendship may exist between a shepherd lad and the son of a king (though perhaps Jonathan's princedom was very little removed from shepherd life), yet the very friendship itself must produce equality between them. Said the Latin proverb: "Friendship either finds, or makes men equal." 3. Now, therefore, to be perfectly literal in our use of the word, we must expect to find these things reproduced in our friendship with the Spirit of God; and, wonderful as it is, these things are reproduced. For God certainly loves us for no benefit that He can obtain from His love. He certainly had no need of us, nor do we in any sense fill up anything that is wanting to His life. Before we were, or the world was created, the Ever Blessed Three in One enjoyed to the full the complete peace and joy and energy of existence. We are no late development of His being, but only came because of His inherent goodness that was always prodigal of itself. He is our friend, not for His need, but for ours. He is our friend, not for what He could get, but for what He could give--His life. Again, His friendship is certainly mutual, for as St. John tells: "Let us therefore love God because God first hath loved us" (John 4.19). There is no yearning on our part which is not more than paralleled on His. I can say not only that I love God, but that He is my friend. Thirdly, I may even dare to assert that there is a common bond of likeness and equality between myself and Him. He has stooped to my level only that He may lift me to His own. He became Man that He might make man God, and so, equally, the Holy Spirit dwells in me that I may dwell in Him. "Friendship either finds, or makes men equal." It found us apart, it makes us one. He came divine, perfect, to me, human, imperfect. By grace I am raised to a supernatural level. I know Him in some sort as He is; I am immediately united to Him by the bond of love. THIS PRESENCE IS OF THE SAME NATURE AS THAT IN HEAVEN 1. This union, then, between God and my soul, effected by grace, is real and true. It is something more than faith can secure, a nearer relationship, a deeper, more personal knowledge, a more ardent and personal love. Indeed, so wonderful is the union effected that the teaching of the Church has been forcibly expressed in Pope Leo XIII's _Encyclical_, by saying that the only difference between it and the Vision of Heaven is a difference of condition or state, a difference purely accidental, not essential. Heaven, with all its meaning, its wonders of which eye and ear and heart are ignorant, can be begun here. Moreover, it must be insisted upon, that this is not merely given to chosen souls whose sanctity is so heroic as to qualify them for canonization; it is the heritage of every soul in a state of grace. When I step outside the confessional box after due repentance and the absolution of the priest, I am in a state of grace. At once, then, this blessed union takes effect. Within me is the Holy Spirit, dwelling there, sent, given. As the object of knowledge He can be experienced by me in a personal and familiar way. I can know Him even as I am known. As the object of love He becomes my friend, stooping to my level, lifting me to His. At once, then, though still in a merely rudimentary way, can dawn upon me the glories of my ultimate reward. Even already, upon earth, I have crossed the threshold of Heaven. 2. In order for me to enjoy that ultimate vision of God, two things will be necessary for me. First, I shall need to be strengthened so as to survive the splendor and joy of it. No man can see God and live, for like St. Paul on the road to Damascus, the splendor of the vision would wholly obscure the sight. Just as a tremendous noise will strain the hearing of the ear, or an overbright light will dazzle the eyes to blindness, or an overwhelming joy will break the heart with happiness, so would the vision of God strike with annihilation the poor weak soul. Hence the light of glory, as it is called by the theologians, has to be brought into use. By this is meant that strengthening of the human faculties which enables them without harm to confront the Truth, Goodness, Power, Beauty of God. Secondly, this vision implies an immediate contact with God. It is no question simply of faith or hope, but of sight and possession, so that there should be no more veils, no more reproductions or reflections of God, but God Himself. Those two things sum up what we mean by the Beatific Vision. Now, then, if there is a similarity of kind between that union in heaven and the union that can be reflected on earth, then grace in this life must play the part of the light of glory in the next, and I must be able in consequence to enter into personal relations and immediate contact with God. 3. Such, then, is the likeness between the indwelling of the Spirit on earth, and the beatific vision. Wherein comes the difference? The difference one may say is largely a difference of consciousness. Here on earth I have so much to distract me that I cannot possibly devote myself in the same way as then I shall be able to do. There are things here that have got to be done, and there is the body itself which can only stand a certain amount of concentration and intensity. If strained too much it just breaks down and fails. All this complicates and hampers me. But in heaven I shall take on something (of course a great deal intensified) of the consciousness and alertness of youth. A child can thoroughly enjoy itself, for it has got the happy faculty of forgetting the rest of life, all its troubles, anxieties, fears. Heaven, then, means the lopping off of all those menaces, and the consequent full appreciation of God in knowledge and love. Hence I must not be disturbed if here on earth all these wonderful things which I learn about concerning the indwelling of the Holy Spirit do not seem to take place. It is very unfortunate that I do not appreciate them, but it is something at least to know that they are there. It is a nuisance that I do not see Him, but it is something at least to be certain He is within me. THIS PRESENCE COMMON TO THE WHOLE TRINITY 1. So far it has been taken for granted that this indwelling is proper to the Holy Spirit, but it must now be added that indeed it is really an indwelling of the Blessed Trinity. It is true that very seldom does Scripture speak of the Three Persons as dwelling in the soul, still less of Their being given or sent. But every reason for which we attribute this to the Holy Ghost would hold equally well of the other Two Persons. By grace we are made partakers of God's Divine nature; He comes to us as the object of our knowledge and our love. Why should we suppose that this Divine Presence applies directly only to the Spirit of God? The only reason, of course, is the impressive wording of the New Testament. But even here there are equally strong indications that more than the Holy Ghost is implied: "If any man will love Me he will keep My word, and My Father will love him, and We will come to him, and will make Our abode with him. . . . But the Paraclete, the Holy Ghost, whom the Father will send in My name, He will teach you all things and bring all things to your mind whatsoever I shall have said to you." Here, then, it is clearly stated that after Our Lord has died His teaching will be upheld by the Spirit, but that this indwelling will include also the abiding presence of Father and Son. 2. Why, then, is it repeated so often that the Holy Ghost is to be sent into our hearts, is to be given to us, is to dwell in our midst? It is for the same reason precisely that we allocate or attribute certain definite acts to the Blessed Persons of the Trinity so as the more easily to discern and appreciate the distinction between Them. In the Creed itself we attribute creation to God, the Father Almighty, though we know that Son and Spirit, also with the Father, called the world out of nothingness. Eternity is often, too, looked upon as peculiarly of the Father, though naturally it is common to the Trinity. Note how frequently in the liturgical prayers of the Church comes the expression, "O, Eternal Father." So again to the Son we attribute Wisdom and Beauty, turning in our imagination to Him as the Word of God, the Figure of His substance, the brightness of His glory, and to the Holy Spirit we more often attribute God's love and God's joy. All these attributions are attempts to make that high mystery and the Three Persons of It alive and distinctive to the human spirit. It is not indeed wholly fancy, but it is the ever active reason endeavoring, for its own better understanding of sacred truths, to give some hint, or find some loophole, whence it shall not be overwhelmed with the greatness of its faith. 3. Consequently, it must be noted that this indwelling of the Spirit of God is not so absolutely and distinctly proper to God, the Holy Ghost, as the Incarnation is proper to God, the Son. There the Son, and He alone, became man. It was His personality alone to which was joined, in a substantial union, human nature. But in this present case there is no such unique connection between the soul and the Spirit of God, but it is rather the Ever Blessed Trinity itself that enters into occupation, and dwells in the heart. Of course that makes the wonder not less, but greater. To think that within the borders of my being is conducted the whole life of the Ever Blessed Three in One; that the Father is for ever knowing Himself in the Son, and that Father and Son are forever loving Themselves in the Spirit; that the power and eternity of the Father, whereby creation was called into being, and by whose fiat the visible world will one day break up and fall to pieces; that the wisdom and beauty of the Son, which catch the soul of man as in the meshes of a net, and drove generations of men to a wandering pilgrimage, at the peril of life, to rescue an empty tomb in the wild fury of a crusade; that the love of the Holy Spirit which completes the life of God, and was typified in the tongues of fire and the rush of a great wind at Pentecost; that the power and eternity of the Father, the wisdom and beauty of the Son, the love and joy of the Spirit, are for all time in my heart. O, what reverence for my human home of God, reverence alike for soul and body! THIS PRESENCE HAS CERTAIN EFFECTS 1. It is very clear that so tremendous a presence as this indwelling implies must have tremendous results. If, as I believe, Father, and Son, and Spirit, are always within me by grace, the effect upon my soul should be considerable. To begin with, the very nearness to God which this indwelling secures must make a great difference to my outlook on life. To have within me the Ever Blessed Trinity is more than an honor, it is a responsibility; it is more than responsibility, for it is the greatest grace of all. To my faith, it makes the whole difference in my attitude to the Mother of God that within her womb for those silent months lay the Incarnate Wisdom. If to touch pitch is to ensure defilement, to be so close to God is to catch the infection of His Divinity. Or, again, I may have envied, times out of number, the wonderful grace whereby, upon the breast of his Master, St. John, the Beloved Disciple, could lovingly lay his head, the joy of so close and so familiar an intimacy with the most beautiful sons of men; or I may have pictured the charming scene when on His knees He took the dear children of His country and spoke to them and fondled them so that in His eyes they could see reflected their own countenances. How life ever after must have been transfigured for them by the memory of that glorious time! Great graces indeed for them all. But what if all life long, by grace, I too can be sure of a union even more splendid, an intimacy more lasting, a friendship surpassing the limits of faith and hope? 2. By grace, then, I receive this indwelling of the Spirit of God, and thereby come into a new and wonderful union with the Ever Blessed Trinity. Now such a union must have its purpose. Our Lord told us that He was going to send to our hearts the Holy Spirit, an embassy from Heaven to earth conducted by a Divine ambassador. The news of the Incarnation, the offer of the Motherhood of God, were made by means of an angel. But here, in my case, to no created official is this wonderful thing confided, only to God Himself. That just shows me the importance of the undertaking. In the political world the interests that turn on a diplomatic mission may be easily guessed to be very great, when the personnel of the staff is found to contain the highest personages in the country. What deep and abiding interests must then be in question when to my soul comes God, the Holy Ghost, sent as the messenger of the Three! I must consequently expect that the results of this indwelling are judged by God to be considerable, and that it is of much moment to me that, one by one, I should discover them. The Incarnation brought its train of attendant effects which I have to study: the redemption, the sacraments, the sanctifying of all immaterial creation by its union through man with the divinity. This indwelling also must therefore have its effects, the knowledge of which must necessarily make a difference to me in life. 3. By Baptism the beginning comes of this great grace. As a child, with my senses hardly at all awake to external life, I had God in my midst. Do I wonder now at the charm of early innocence, when a soul sits silently holding God as its centre? It is not that there are dim memories of a preexistence before birth, but there are always haunting dreams of a true friendship on earth. Baptism then begins that early work. At the moment of conversion, when suddenly I was drawn into a tender realization of God's demands and my own heart's hunger, the indwelling of the Spirit became more consciously operative with its flood of light and love. Since then the sacraments have poured out on me fuller measures of God's grace and that divine Presence therefore should assume larger proportions in my life. I am now the dwelling place of God. When, then, my heart is young, eager, enthusiastic, let me make Him welcome; nor wait till the only habitation I can offer is in ruins, leaking through an ill-patched roof. A dwelling place for God! How reverently, then, shall I treat and treasure my body and soul, for they must be as fit as I can make them for the great Guest. By reason we learn of Him, by faith we know Him, but by His indwelling we taste the sweetness of His presence. FORGIVENESS OF SIN 1. To understand this first and great effect of grace I must know what sin is, and to grasp sin in its fullness I must comprehend God. To see the heinousness of what is done against Him I must first realize what He is Himself. I have to go through all my ideas of God, my ideas of His majesty, His power, His tenderness, His justice, His mercy. I have got to realize all that He has done for man before I can take in the meaning of man's actions against God. I have to be conscious of the Incarnation, of the story of that perfect life, the privations of it, the culminating horror of the Passion and Death, then of the Resurrection, the patient teaching of those forty days when He spoke of the Kingdom of God which He was setting up on earth, the Ascension, which did not mean an end, but only the beginning of His work for men on earth. At once there opened the wonderful stream of graces which flow through the sacraments, and which therefore make continuous upon the world till its consummation, His abiding presence, for the tale of the Blessed Sacrament only adds to the wonders of the tenderness and mercy of God. In Heaven, by ever trying to make intercession for us, on earth, by holding out through the sacraments countless ways of grace, It shows to us something at least of the perfect character of God. Now it is against one so perfect, so tender, so divine, that sin is committed, a wanton, brutal outrage against an almost overfond love. Ingratitude, treachery, disloyalty, united in the basest form. 2. God is just, as well as merciful, so that there had to be an immediate result of sin. Man might see no difference between himself before and after he had sinned; but for all that a great difference was set up. His soul had been on terms of friendship with God, for it had turned irresistibly to Him, as a flower growing in a dark place turns irresistibly to where the hardy daylight makes its way into the gloom. That friendship is at once broken, for sin means that the soul has deliberately turned its back upon God and is facing the other way, and thus it has been able by some fatal power to prevent God's everlasting love having any effect upon it. God cannot hate; but we can stop His love from touching us. At once, then, by grievous sin the soul becomes despoiled of its supernatural goods: sanctifying grace, which is the pledge and expression of God's friendship, naturally is banished; charity, which is nothing else than the love of God, the infused virtues, the gifts, are all taken away. Faith only and hope survive, but emptied of their richness of life. Externally no difference, but internally friendship with God, the right to the eternal heritage, the merits heretofore stored up--all lost. Even God Himself goes out from the midst of the soul, as the Romans heard the voice crying from the Temple just before its destruction: _Let us go hence. Let us go hence_. 3. Grace, then, operates to restore all these lost wonders. Sin itself is forgiven, all the ingratitude and disloyalty put one side; not simply in the sense that God forgets them, or chooses not to consider them, but in the sense that they are completely wiped away. It is the parable of the Good Shepherd where the sheep is brought back again into the fold, and mixes freely with the others who have never left the presence of their Master. It is the parable of the prodigal son taken back into his father's embrace. That is what the forgiveness of sin implies. God is once more back again in the soul. He had always been there as the Creator without Whose supporting hand the soul would be back in its nothingness; but He is now there again as Father, and Master, and Friend. Not the saints only who have been endowed with a genius for divine things, but every simple soul that has had its sins forgiven, comes at once into that embrace. We are far too apt to look upon forgiveness as a merely negative thing, a removal, a cleansing, and not enough as a return to something great and good and beautiful, the triumphant entrance into our souls of the Father, the Son, and the Spirit. JUSTIFICATION 1. There is something in the forgiveness of sin which implies an element of positive good, and this is called justification. It means that the attitude of God towards forgiven sin is believed by the Catholic Church to be no mere neglect or forgetfulness of its evil, but an actual and complete forgiveness. At the time of the Protestant Reformation a long controversy was waged over this very point, in which the Reformers took up the curious position that forgiveness implied nothing more than that God did not impute sin. He covered up the iniquities of the soul with the Blood of His Son, and no longer peered beneath the depths of that sacred and saving sign. The problem has probably hardly any meaning now, since the original doctrinal principles of Protestantism, the ostensible reasons for the sixteenth century revolt, have been abandoned long since as hopeless of defence. In fact all that was really positive in Protestantism has been ruined by its basic negative principle of private judgment. Against such a battering ram Christianity itself is powerless. But that long-forgotten discussion had this much of value, that it brought out in clear perspective the fullness of the Catholic teaching on the central doctrine of justification and showed its depth and meaning. 2. Briefly, then, it may be stated that it is not simply that God does not impute evil, but that He forgives it. It is as though a rebellion had taken place and its leader had been captured and brought before his offended sovereign. Now the king might do either of two things, if he wished not to punish the culprit. He might simply bid him go off and never appear again, or he might go even further by actually forgiving the rebellion and receiving back into favor the rebel. It is one thing to say that no punishment will be awarded, it is another to say that the crime is forgiven, and that everything is to go on as though nothing had happened. In the first case we might say that the king chose not to impute the sin, in the other that he forgave and justified the sinner. It is just this, then, that the Catholic Church means when she teaches justification as implied in the idea of forgiveness. It is just this, too, that Our Lord meant when He detailed His beautiful parable about the prodigal son. The boy's return home does not mean merely that the father refrains from punishment, but rather that there is a welcome so hearty and so complete that the serious-minded elder brother, coming in from his long labor in the fields, is rather scandalized by its suddenness and its intensity. Such is indeed God's treatment of the soul. He is so generous, so determined not to be outdone by any sorrow on the part of the sinner, that He overwhelms with the most splendid favors the recently converted soul. 3. But in this connection we must see in justification a process by which the Presence of God is again achieved by man. By sin grace was lost, and with grace went out the Divine Three in One, the temple was desecrated, the veil of the Holy of Holies was utterly rent. Then sin is forgiven and, once more, the Sacred home is occupied by God. Moreover, when God comes to the soul He comes with His full strength of love, and thereby gives a new energy and life to man. We love because of some beauty, goodness, excellence, that we see in others. We love, then, because of what is in them. It is their gifts that cause or ignite our love. But God, Who is the only cause Himself, creates excellences by love. We are not loved because we are good; we are good because we are loved, so that this indwelling itself fashions us after God's own heart. "It is the love of God," says St. Thomas (_Summa theologica_, i, 20.2), "that produces and creates goodness in things." The divine presence, then, of God in the soul, effected by sanctifying grace, makes the soul more worthy a temple, more fit a home. God does not come to us because we are fit, but we are fit because God comes to us. DEIFICATION 1. This very strong expression is used by St. Augustine and many of the Fathers to describe one of the effects of grace. By grace we are deified, i. e., made into gods. Right at the beginning of all the woes of humanity when, in the Garden of Eden, Adam and Eve first were tempted, the lying spirit promised that the reward of disobedience would be that they should become "as gods." The result of sin could hardly be that, so man, made only a little lower than the angels, can at times find himself rebuked by the very beasts. Yet the promise became in the end fulfilled, since the Incarnation really affected that transformation, and God, by becoming human, made man himself divine. St. Peter, in his second epistle (4.1), insinuates the same truth when he describes the great promises of Christ making us "partakers of the Divine Nature." The work, then, of grace is something superhuman and divine. Creation pours into us the divine gift of existence and therefore makes us partakers in the divine being, for existence implies a participation in the being of God. The indwelling of the Blessed Trinity, then, does even more, for by it we participate not only in the divine being, but in the divine nature, and fulfill the prophecy of Our Lord: "Ye are gods." Justification, therefore, is a higher gift than creation, since it does more for us. 2. This divine participation is what is implied in many texts which allude to the sacrament of Baptism, for the purpose of Baptism is just that, to make us children of God. The phrases concerning "new birth" and "being born again" all are intended to convey the same idea, that the soul by means of this sacrament is lifted above its normal existence and lives a new life. This life is lived "with Christ in God," i. e., it is a sort of entrance within the charmed circle of the Trinity, or, more accurately, it is that the Blessed Trinity inhabits our soul and enters into our own small life, which at once therefore takes on a new and higher importance. In it henceforth there can be nothing small or mean. For the same reason Our Lord speaks of it to the Samaritan woman as "_the_ gift of God," beside which all His other benefactions fade into nothingness. Again, it is a "fountain of living water," it is a "refreshment," it is "life" itself. Not the stagnant water that remains in a pool in some dark wood, but a stream gushing out from its source, fertilizing the ground on every side, soaking through to all the thirsting roots about it, giving freshness and vitality to the whole district through which it wanders. Life indeed it bears as its great gift; and so does sanctifying grace carry within it the fertilizing power needed by the soul. 3. The participation in the Divine Nature is therefore no mere metaphor, but is a real fact. The indwelling of God makes the soul like to God. I find myself influenced by the people with whom I live, picking up their expressions, copying their tricks and habits, following out their thoughts, absorbing their principles, growing daily like them. With God at the centre of my life the same effect is produced, and slowly, patiently, almost unconsciously, I find myself infected by His spirit. What He loves becomes my ideal; what He hates, my detestation. But it is even closer than this, no mere concord of wills nor harmony of ideas, a real and true elevation to the life of God. Grace is formally in God, at the back, so to say, of His divine nature, the inner essence of Himself. By receiving it, therefore, I receive something of God, and begin to be able to perform divine actions. I can begin to know God even as I am known, to taste His sweetness, and by His favor to have personal, experimental knowledge of Himself. To act divinely is only possible to those who are made divine. This, then, becomes the formal union with God, its terms, its end, its purpose. Deified, therefore, we become in our essence by grace, in our intelligence by its light, in our will by charity. ADOPTED SONSHIP 1. Here again we have to realize that the sonship of God is no mere metaphor, no mere name, but a deep and true fact of huge significance: "Behold what manner of charity the Father hath bestowed upon us that we should be called and should be the sons of God!" (1 John 3). We become the sons of God. St. Paul very gladly quotes the saying of a Greek poet that men are the offspring of God, making use of a particular word which necessarily implies that both the begetter and the begotten are of the same nature. A sonship indeed is what Our Lord is Himself incessantly teaching the Apostles to regard as their high privilege, for God is not only His Father, but theirs: "Thus shalt thou pray, Our Father." With the Gospels it is in constant use as the view of God that Christianity came especially to teach. The Epistles are equally insistent on the same view, for St. Paul is perpetually calling to mind the wonderful prerogatives whereby we cry, "Abba: Father." We are spoken of as co-heirs of Christ, as children of God. St. John, St. Peter, and St. James repeat the same message as the evident result of the Incarnation, for by it we learn that God became the Son of Man, and man the son of God. 2. Yet it must also be admitted that this sonship of God, which is the common property of all just souls, and is the result of the indwelling of God in the soul, does not mean that we are so by nature, but only by adoption. Now adoption, as it is practiced by law, implies that the child to be adopted is not already the son, that the new relationship is entered upon entirely at the free choice of the person adopting, that the child becomes the legal heir to the inheritance of the adopting father. It is perfectly evident that all these conditions are fulfilled in the case of God's adoption, for we were certainly no children of His before His adoption of us as sons; strangers we were, estranged indeed by the absence of grace and the high gifts of God. Naturally we were made by Him, but had put ourselves far from Him: "You were as sheep going astray." Then this adoption of us by God was indeed and could only have been at His free choice, through no merits of ours, but solely according to the deliberate action of His own will, for "you have not chosen Me but I have chosen you." "So that it is not of him that willeth nor of him that runneth, but of God that showeth mercy." Finally, the inheritance is indeed ours by right and title of legal inheritance. We are co-heirs with Christ, and our human nature is lifted up to the level of God; not, of course, that we supplant Him who is by nature the true Son of God, but that we are taken into partnership with Him, and share in Him the wonderful riches of God. 3. Here, then, I may learn the worth and dignity of the Christian name. I am a true son of God, and what else matters upon earth? I have indeed to go about my life with its vocation and all that is entailed in it. I have to work for my living, it may be, or take my place in the family, or lead my own solitary existence. I have to strive to be efficient and effective in the material things of life that fall to my share to be done. But it is this sonship of God that alone makes any matter in the world. In our own time we have heard a very great deal about culture and the ultimate value of the world; but we have seen also to what evil ends so fine a truth may lead men. True culture is not a question of scientific attainments, or mechanical progress, or the discovery of new inventions of destruction, or even of medical and useful sciences; but it is the perfect and complete development of the latent powers of the soul. True culture may indeed make use of sciences and art; perhaps in its most complete sense science and art are needed for the most finished culture of which man is capable; but it is in its very essence the deepening of his truest desire, the full stretch of his widest flights of fancy, the achievement of his noblest ideals. What nobler ideal, or fancy, or desire, can a man have than to be called and to be the son of God; to know that he has been drawn into the close union of God; to feel within his very essence the presence of God; to have personal experience as the objects of his knowledge and love of the Father, Son, and Spirit? HEIRS OF GOD 1. One of the conditions of adoption is that the newly chosen son should become the legal heir of the new father. Without this legal result or consequence adoption has no meaning. Merely to get a boy to enter a family circle does not imply adoption, for this last has a distinct meaning with a distinct purpose. If, then, we are the heirs of God we are really possessed of a right to His Divine Inheritance. Heaven has been made indeed our home. We speak of it in our hymns as _patria_, which we can translate as the "land of our fathers." We claim it thereby in virtue of our parentage, and our parentage is of God. If, then, He is our Father, not by nature, but by adoption, i. e., by grace, we are none the less His heirs and have some sort of right over His possessions and riches. A father cannot without leave of his adopted son alienate any of the family heirlooms; the adopted son now, by the father's own free act acquires, not indeed dominion over the riches of the home, but, at any rate, an embargo on the father's free exercise of those riches. He could even demand, as against his father, a legal investigation into the due use and investment of them. His signature is required for every document that relates to them. He has become almost a part-owner of his father's possessions, since he is their legal heir. All this is implied by adoption in its true sense, and therefore it must be intended to apply to us when we are spoken of as God's adopted sons. 2. I can, therefore, truthfully speak of myself as an heir of God. Of course I cannot mean that there is any possible question of "the death of the testator," i. e., of God. That is quite clearly of no significance here. But adoption does give me some sort of claim to the heritage of God. Now the law defines a heritage as that by which a man is made rich. It includes not the riches only, but the source of the riches, so that if I have a claim to God's riches, I have a claim also upon the source of those riches. For the heir is entitled not merely to a legacy, but to the whole of the fortune. I have a right to the whole fortune of God, to the whole universe. At once, as soon as I realize it, the whole of the world is mine. It is the doctrine of the mystics that, misunderstood, led astray the communists of the Middle Ages. These claimed a common ownership of the wealth of all the world, whereas what was intended was that we should look upon the whole world as ours. To me, then, in life, nothing can be strange or distant or apart. No places can there be where my mind cannot enter and roam at will and feel itself at home; no things can be profane, no people who are not tabernacles of God, no part of life that is not steeped in that living presence. The only possible boundary is the love and the grace of God. There will indeed come evil frontiers beyond which my soul could never dwell. But all else is of God and is therefore my right. All creation is mine; the wonder and beauty of it, life and death, pleasure alike and pain, yield up to me their secrets and disclose the hidden name of God. 3. Here, then, I can find that divine wealth, to inherit which has been the purpose of the adoption by God. Wherever I turn I shall find Him. Whether life has smooth ways or rough, whether she hangs my path with lights or hides me in gloom, I am the heir to all that earth or sea or sky can boast of as their possession. Indeed, these are only the rich things of God, whereas I have a claim upon even more. I have a claim upon the very source of this wealth, that is, upon God Himself, for He is the sole source of all His greatness. I have a right to God Himself. He is mine. He Who holds in the hollow of His hands the fabric of the world, Who with His divine power supports, and with His providence directs, the intricate pattern of the world, has Himself by creation entered deeply into the world; at the heart of everything He lies hid. But even more by grace He comes in a fuller, richer way into the depths of the soul. Here in me are Father, and Son, and Spirit. Dear God, teach me to understand the wonder of this indwelling, to appreciate its worth, to be thankful for its condescension, to reverence its place of choice, to be conscious of its perpetual upholding. By it I am an heir to the fullness of the divine riches. By it I, a creature, possess in His fullness my Creator, Redeemer, Lord. GUIDANCE IN SPIRITUAL LIFE 1. I have God the Holy Spirit with me. He comes to me in order that I may surrender myself to Him. Of course I cannot merge my personality in His to the extent of having no power of my own, but God has such infinite dominion over the heart of man that He is able to move the will, without in any sense whatever violating its freedom. In the liturgy of the Church there are two or three prayers which speak about God "compelling our rebellious wills." Now for anyone else to "compel my will" would be to destroy it as a will, since, as even Cromwell freely confessed, "the will suffereth no compulsion"; I cannot be made to will against my will. That would be a contradiction, though I can be made to act against my will, for my actions do not necessarily imply that my will is in them. Whereas, then, no one else can move my will without utterly destroying my moral freedom, God can, for He is intimate to the will and moves it, not really as an external but as an internal power. St. Thomas Aquinas repeatedly refers to this and says over and over again the same thing, namely, that God is so intimately united to man, and so powerful, that not only can He move man to will, but move him to will freely by affecting, not only the action of man, but the very mode of the action. 2. Such is man, whether in a state of grace or not, that his will is in the hands of God, to be moved by man freely, but not so as to exclude God's movement. Naturally enough it is far easier to say this than to explain it. Indeed the mere statement is all that is actually binding upon faith, and the particular explanation favored by St. Thomas in his general acceptance of St. Augustine's teaching, comes to us largely as of deep and abiding moment on account of the very clear reasons given and the great authority of his name; but in any case there is something far more special in the guidance of the Holy Spirit sought for by the soul in its endeavor to "live godly in Christ Jesus." It has to yield itself to the promptings of God, be eager to catch His every whisper, and quick in its obedience to His every call. For this to be achieved, the first work is an emptying out of the soul. Every obstacle has to be got rid of; any attachment to creatures that obscures God's light has to be broken through (though not every attachment to creatures, since unless I love man whom I see, I cannot possibly know what love means when applied to God, nor can I suppose myself to be able to understand or love God, whom I do not see). First, then, to cleanse my soul by leveling and smoothing and clearing its surface and depths. 3. Then I must yield myself into His arms. I shall not know very often the way He wishes me to go. It may be only one step at a time, and then darkness again; or I may be taken swiftly and surely and openly along a clear road. That is His business, not mine, only I must be prepared not to be able to follow always the meaning of what He wants of me. It is not necessary at all that I should know. If I am faithful and loyal and full of trust, things will gradually settle themselves, and I shall at least be able to look back and understand the significance and purpose of many things that at first appeared accidental, and even in opposition to the end I considered God had in view for me. Thus by looking back I can sometimes get a shrewd idea of what is to follow; but often it is only a guess, nothing more than that. Still, generally, it would seem that people who surrender themselves to God do get a sense or a feeling which leads them right and makes them sure. It is the divine tenderness stooping to poor muddled humanity and making it transfigured with God's own glory. The advance, then, whether consciously grasped or not, is in due proportion to the purity and fidelity of the soul, purity in its act of cleansing, fidelity in its subjection to the promptings of the Holy Spirit. GIFTS OF THE HOLY SPIRIT 1. To live the spiritual life to its fullness we need the instinctive governances of the Holy Ghost. All day long, and even all through the hours when consciousness is asleep, the Holy Spirit is speaking to us in many ways. He is offering us His heavenly counsel, enlightening our minds to an ever more complete understanding of the deep truths of faith, and generally imparting to us that deep knowledge without which we cannot make advance. Reason and common sense have their own contribution to make in opening our minds and hearts to a proper interpretation of all that is about us and within us; but reason and common sense have themselves also to be supernaturalized, to be illumined by the light of a far higher plane of truth. Hence the need of this divine instinct is patent to anyone who considers the purpose and destiny of the soul. But it is difficult at times to understand and to grasp surely the words of divine wisdom, since by sin's coarseness the refinement of the soul is dulled and rendered but little responsive; or, rather, it is not so much a matter of being responsive to a message as primarily of hearing and understanding it. It seems to be very obvious that God must be speaking to me almost without ceasing; it is equally obvious that very little of this is noticed. 2. Here, then, am I in the world and needing the governance of God's instinct. Here, too, is this whispered counsel and enlightenment of God, perpetually being made to me. Yet, though made by God, and needed by me, this counsel and enlightenment, I can be certain, must frequently be entirely lost to me. It is as though I lived in a perfectly beautiful country, with stretching landscape about, and beautiful glimpses of hills and woodland, and yet never saw or appreciated the view; as though heavenly music were about me, to which I never paid the slightest attention; as though my best loved friend stood by me and I never lifted my eyes, and so did not know of his presence. Of course it is really a great deal worse than that, for I do not need with an absolute necessity the view, or the music, or the friend; whereas I do most certainly need this divinely offered help, guidance, enlightenment. Hence it is clear that neither my need nor God's instinct suffice. Something else is required by means of which I am able to make use of that instinct, to hear its message, to discover its meaning, to apply its advice to myself; else am I no better than a general who possesses the full plan of his allies, in all its details, but written in a cypher that he cannot read. 3. To produce this reaction or perception is the work of the sevenfold gifts. They are habits infused into the soul, which strengthen its natural powers, and make them responsive to every breath of God and capable of heroic acts of virtue. By the gifts my eyes are made able to see what had else been hidden, my ears quick to catch what had else not been heard; the gifts do not, so to say, supply eye or ear, but make more delicate, refined, sensitive, the eye and ear already there. Their business is to intensify rather than to create powers established in me by grace. Less excellent necessarily than the theological virtues which unite me to God, they are yet more excellent than the other virtues, though, being rooted in charity and thereby linked up among themselves, they are also part of the dowry that charity brings in her train. On this account it is clear that from the moment of Baptism the sevenfold gifts are the possession of the soul, and whosoever holds one holds all; yet by the sacrament of Confirmation it would appear certain that something further is added, some more delicate perception, some livelier sensitiveness; or it may be, as other theologians point out, that by Confirmation they are more steadily fixed in the soul, more fully established, more firmly held. But in any case it is clear what they are to me, habits whereby I am perfected to obey the Holy Spirit of God. BEATITUDES 1. The possession of the sevenfold gifts results in the performance of certain virtuous acts, for it is perfectly obvious that if I am so blest by the gifts that I find my reason, will, emotions, made increasedly perceptive of divine currents previously lost to me, I can hardly help acting in a new way. I now discover the view about me, and the music, and, consequently, my manner of life must in some ways be different from before. The Vision has come; it cannot simply open my eyes to new things in life without thereby altering that very life itself. Not only shall I find that what seemed to me before to be evil now appears to me to be a blessing; but on that very account what before I tried to avoid, or, having got, tried to be rid of, I shall now accept, perhaps even seek. Similarly, whereas then I was weak, now I am strong; and increase of strength means new activities, new energy put into the old work and finding its way out into works altogether new. My emotions, finally, which perilled and dominated my life, slip now into a subordinate position, and while thereby as actively employed as before, are held under discipline. It is clear, therefore, that the gifts will not leave me where I was before, but will influence my actions as well as alter my vision. 2. I find, then, that these new habits will develop into new activities. But this means also that I have a new idea as to the means of achieving the full happiness of life. Once upon a time I thought happiness meant comfort, now I see that it means something quite different. My view of happiness has changed. I am therefore obliged to change also my idea as to the means and conditions whereby, and in which, happiness can be found. I had attempted to climb out of my valley over the hills in the west; I now attempt to climb out over the hills to the east. The steps by which once I clambered are useless to me. I must try new ones in the opposite hills. Just that is what Our Lord meant by promulgating His eight Beatitudes. These are just the new blessedness, so to say, which results from finding that happiness now means the knowledge and love of God. Things that previously I fled from, I now seek; things once my bugbear, are now the objects of my delight. Poverty, meekness, mourning, the hunger and thirst after justice, cleanness of heart, the making of peace, mercy, the suffering of persecution for justice's sake, are now found to be the steps to be passed over, the conditions to be secured before happiness can be finally secured. 3. These things, then, are beatitudes to me. They are acts which I finally achieve by means of the new enlightenment gained through the gifts of God. Actively I am merciful and meek and clean of heart. I perform these actions, and they are the result of visions seen, and counsels heard, through the new sensitiveness to the divine instinctive guidance that of old passed me by without finding in my heart any response. To be forever pursuing now peace and sorrow, and, at whatever cost, justice, is an energizing state of life which is due entirely to the new perception of the value of these things, so that we are right in asserting that the beatitudes are nothing else than certain actions, praised by Our Lord and practiced by us as a result of the establishment in our souls of seven definite habits. But not only are they actions, they produce as an effect joy in the heart; for which reason it is that we call them beatitudes. They show me what is truly blessed and thereby give me, even here on earth, a foretaste of the bliss of final happiness. THE FRUITS OF THE SPIRIT 1. Besides the beatitudes there are other acts that follow from the gifts when properly used by the soul. The beatitudes are means which, under the light infused by God, are valued at their true worth as leading finally to happiness in its more complete sense. But when these are thus put into practice, for the soul understands the new meaning life gathers, they do not end the wonders of the action of grace. As a boy I met life and found it full of interest and dawning with the glories of success. The world in its aspect of nature had such manifest beauties that these quickly entranced and thrilled the soul. The sun and grass and flowers and woods and waters, make no secret of their kinship with their creator; Francis Thompson found them "garrulous of God," so garrulous in our youth that we see that life is full of very good things. Then comes the reaction (to many even before full manhood), when life is found to be full of illusion. Life is now judged a melancholy business, apt to fail you just when the need of it is most discovered, hard to be certain of; it is the age of romantic melancholy when most people put into verse their sorrow at the disappointment to be found in all things of beauty. Every tree and flower and "dear gazelle" is no sooner loved than it is lost through death or misunderstanding. 2. Then, finally, the balance is set right. The two phases pass. They are both true only as half truths. There is no denying that life is good and beautiful and thrilling. The boy's vision is correct. Yet it is equally true to say that there is sorrow and suffering and death and disappointment in all human things. But a new phase, blessedly a last phase, dawns upon the soul. Sorrow and pain are real, but the old happiness of boyhood is made to fit in and triumph over them by the sudden realization that strength is the lesson to be learned. Sorrow comes that discipline may be born in the soul, self-restraint, humility. Life is hard, but its very hardness is no evil, but our means of achieving good. That is the very atmosphere of the beatitudes, the message they bring, the teaching they imparted from the Sermon on the Mount. Poverty, cleanness of heart, mercy, meekness, are all things difficult to acquire; but they give a real, true blessedness to the soul that will see their value. Life is no longer a disappointment, but the training ground of all good. 3. Finally, there follow other acts, too many to number, though there are twelve usually given, which result from gifts and beatitudes. These are called the fruits of the Holy Ghost, for they represent in that metaphorical sense the ultimate result of the gifts. They are the last and sweetest consequences of the sevenfold habits infused by the Spirit. Indeed, just as trees are grown in an orchard because of their fruits, and, therefore, just as it can be said that the fruit is, from the gardener's point of view, the purpose for which the tree is cultivated (for of the fruitless fig Our Lord asked why it cumbered the ground), so these fruits of the Holy Ghost (charity, joy, peace, patience, benignity, goodness, longanimity, mildness, faith, modesty, continency, chastity--Gal. 5.22) can be looked upon as the very purpose for which the gifts were given, that I might, by seeing a new blessedness in life's very troubles, begin to find joy and peace and patience and faith, where else I had found only sorrow. Endlessly could the list of these be extended, for St. Paul has chosen only a very few; but these that he names are what a man delights in when he has received the gifts, and has understood and valued the beatitudes. Sweetness is what they add to virtue, ease, comfort. I not only hunger and thirst after justice, but enjoy the very pain of the pursuit. KNOWLEDGE 1. This gift of God illumines and perfects the intelligence. The purpose of the gifts, it has been already explained, is to make the soul more alive to, and more appreciative of, the whispered instinct of God; not to create new faculties, but to increase the power of those already existing. My mind, then, has to be supernaturalized and refined to that pitch of perception which will enable it to grasp and to understand God's message. Now the mind itself works upon a great variety of subjects. It has whole worlds to conquer, planes of thought which are very clearly distinguishable; yet in its every activity it needs this divine refinement, so that in all four gifts are allotted to perform this complete enlightenment of the mind. Knowledge overcomes ignorance and is concerned with the facts, visible and sense-perceived, in creation; for by the council of the Vatican it is laid down as part of the deposit of faith that human reason can prove the existence of God altogether apart from the supernatural motives which grace supplies. The visible world is held to contain ample proofs which in themselves are adequate logically to convince human understanding of the existence of God. Individual reason may fail to satisfy itself. People may declare truthfully that they are not convinced; the Church insists only that it can be done. 2. Knowledge, however, in this sense is a gift of God whereby we discover Him in His own creation and in the works of man. It is here no mere task set to reason for detecting the Creator in His handiwork, but an actual vision by which the soul is supernaturalized and sees Him patently everywhere. The beauteous face of nature is merely seen as a veil, hiding a beauty more sublime. Things of dread as well as things of loveliness come into the scheme, things trivial and things tremendous, things majestic and things homely, all that God has made. Even man's work, who is himself only one of the greater masterpieces of the Great Artificer, is affected by this new light with which the world is flooded. The delicate pieces of machinery constructed by human ingenuity, that gain in wonder and in power, are themselves still God's work at one remove; they are the fruits of a mind that He has constructed, and they do not exhaust the capacity of that mind. They reveal hidden potentialities as well as express actual achievements. Weapons of destruction, with all the horror they rightly inspire, are yet witnesses again to that parent-intelligence whence was begotten man himself. All this, of course, as soon as considered, is admitted by every believer in God, but the gift of knowledge makes it realized and seen steadfastly. 3. Life, then, of itself is full of illusion. That is the cry, desolating and pitiful, which arises from the higher followers of every religious faith. Man is bound to the wheel, his mind is compassed with infirmity, he is born into ignorance. Desire tumultuously hustles all his days. He needs, therefore, some light whereby he may find the true inner meaning of all with which he comes in contact. Here, then, in the gift of Knowledge is such a true vision, understanding, vouchsafed him of the visible things of creation. He will realize as much, perhaps, even more than before the attraction of beauty, only it will be no snare, but a beckoning light. He will find in it now no illusion, but the perfect image of a greater beauty. The charm of the world about him will become greater, the wonders of nature, the intricate pattern of mechanical appliances, the fury of storms, the tumult of the wind, the terrific force of pestilence, the psychological facts of man's mind, the construction of his frame, the grouping of his social instincts, all now will be alive with God, shot through with the divine splendor, elevated to His order of life, eloquent of His name--a deepening knowledge of God achieved through a knowledge of His creatures. UNDERSTANDING 1. There is another gift required to perfect the intelligence when it is engaged upon the principles of truth. The mind was created by God to exercise itself upon truth, primarily, the Supreme Truth; secondarily, all truths which by their essence must themselves be radiations from the Supreme Truth. These truths are of endless variety, both in their relationship to each other and in the particular line in which they operate. They are the truths of arts and science, the intricate yet unchanging laws that govern the growth and development of matter, the complicated processes whereby organic beings build up their tissues and multiply themselves by means of the cell principle. There are again the curious laws, as they are called, that effect gravitation, that have to be counted upon in the science of architecture, and in all the various kindred crafts of man. There are principles, too, that underlie the whole series of the arts, principles of truth and life and beauty. Upon these the mind must feed, and in them all the mind must be able to trace the character and being of God. But there are also far higher truths which are taught only by revelation, safeguarded by authority, grouped under the title of faith. These truths are higher than the others, since they directly concern a higher being, i. e., God. All truths are truths about God, but the truths of faith concern themselves immediately with the being, life, and actions of God. Understanding, therefore, is the gift perfecting the mind for these. 2. It might seem, perhaps, that the light of faith is itself sufficient, and that no further gift were needed, since it is the very purpose of faith to make us accept this revelation of God, enlightening and strengthening the intelligence till under the dominion of the will it says: I believe. It is true that faith suffices for this, but we require something more than faith, or at least if we do not absolutely require more, we shall progress more rapidly and further when we are not only able to believe but to understand. In every article of faith there is always something which is mysterious or hidden, some obscurity due not to the entanglement of facts, but to the weakness of the human mind. Of course this must to some extent always exist, for man can never hope to comprehend God till by the beatific vision he sees Him face to face; but a good deal of the obscurity can be lifted by the mere operation of the mind under the light of God, not arising purely from study, but from the depth of love enkindled by God. It is a commonplace in the lives of the saints that without instruction they do yet manage to learn the deep mysteries of God; the same is true of many simple souls whom we meet from time to time in the world. They not only believe, but penetrate the truths of faith. 3. Here, then, I have ready to hand a most useful gift of God. I desire not only to believe, but to absorb and to penetrate the mysteries of God. I want to taste to the full the meaning of life as a whole, to develop every power that lies in me, to make the truths of revelation blossom out ever more fully, till their hidden and mystical significance becomes gradually more clear. The pages of Holy Scripture are full of instruction, but they will not yield up their secrets save to a soul attuned by God. That can be effected by the gift of understanding. I shall find by its means that these treasures are inexhaustible, that from mere abstract teaching the sayings of the Master and His Apostles become full of practical meaning, that all life about me takes on a new and richer significance. History and social life open their doors to whoever has this blessed gift, and it becomes clearly seen that their maker and builder is God. The dullness of souls who will not believe, or only believe and then stop short, becomes painful to note and bothersome to put up with, but this is the price one has to pay for so fine a vision. By this, then, we peer into the depths of faith, and find them gradually and steadily growing more and more clear and penetrable. WISDOM 1. All writers on the gifts of the Holy Ghost place wisdom as the highest gift of all. It takes this high position partly because its work is done in the intelligence, which is man's highest power, and partly because it is that highest power occupied to its highest capacity. Like knowledge and understanding, its business is to make us see God everywhere, in the material and spiritual creation of God, in the concrete facts of existence, and in the revealed truths of faith. It produces in a soul a sense of complete certainty and hope. Hence it is sometimes described as neighbor to hope; indeed, its finest side is often just that determined and resolute conviction with which the soul rises superior to every possible disaster, and is prepared to brave every contingency in its sureness of God's final power and the efficacy of His will. It comes closer, therefore, to God Himself than do either understanding or knowledge. These do, indeed, enable the soul to be continuously conscious of the divine presence, of God immanent as well as transcendent, God in the heart of the world as well as wholly above the world, and they affect this consciousness by enabling the soul to see Him everywhere. They lift the veil. They show His footprints. They trace everywhere the marks of His power, wisdom, love. But it is noticeable that they lead to God from the world. I see a flower, and by the gift of knowledge I am immediately aware of the author of its loveliness; by understanding I perceive with clearness the wonder of God's working in the world. By them I lift my eyes from earth to Heaven, by wisdom I look from Heaven to see the earth. 2. Wisdom, therefore, implies an understanding of the world through God, whereas knowledge and understanding suppose a perception of God through the world. Wisdom takes its stand upon causes, the other two on effects. They work from creatures to Creator; wisdom looks upon all the world through the eyes of God. Consequently the effect of wisdom is that the soul sees life as a whole. Matter and truth are to it no longer separate planes of thought, but one. There is at once no distinction between them in the eyes of God, for both are manifestations of Himself and creatures of His making. Hence the soul that is dowered with wisdom climbs up to God's own height, and looking down upon the world sees it "very good," noticing how part fits in with part, and how truths of faith, and truths of science and sunset, and flower and Hell, are linked one with another to form the pattern of God's design. Each has its place in the divine economy of God's plan, each is equally of God, equally sharing in His purposes, though some more than others able to express God better. The effect, then, is largely that the whole of life is co-ordinated, and equality, fraternity, liberty, become not the motto of a revolution, but of the ordered government of God. 3. The opposite to this gift is folly, for a man who fails in wisdom loses all true judgment of the values of human life. He is perpetually exchanging the more for the less valuable, bestowing huge gifts in just barter, as he imagines, for what is merely showy and trivial. Not by causes, but by effect does he consider life and its activities. The wise man, then, estimates everything by its highest cause. He compares and discovers, gleans the reason of God's providence, its purpose, its fitness. First principles are his guide, not the ready and practical proverbs that display the wit and worldly wisdom of the lesser man. Eternity becomes of larger moment than time, since time is merely for eternity. God's law is more convincing than man's, for man's enactments are not laws at all when they come in conflict with divine commands. Faith is so deeply in him that he judges between propositions, and discovers truth against heresy. He has climbed to the heights of God and sees all the world at his feet, and knows it as God knows it, the world and its Lord and the glory of it. COUNSEL 1. The fourth gift that perfects the intelligence acts rather as a moderating than as a stimulating influence. The soul is often impetuous in its decisions, moved by human feelings and passions, urged by desire, love, hatred, prejudice. Quickly stirred to action, it dashes into its course without any real attention to, or understanding of, its better wisdom. Frequently in life my lament has to be that I acted on the impulse of the moment. There is so much that I am sorry for, not merely because now I see what has actually resulted, but because even then I had quite sufficient reason to let me be certain what would result. I was blind, not because my eyes could not have seen, but because I gave them no leave to see. I would not carefully gaze at the difficulties, not puzzle out in patience what would most likely be the result. Even my highest powers are often my most perilous guides, since, moved by generosity, I engaged myself to do what I have no right to perform, and find that I have in the end been generous not only of what is my own, but sometimes of what belongs to another, not as though I deliberately gave away what belonged to another, but just because I had no deliberation at all. I need, then, the Holy Spirit of God to endow me with the gift of counsel which corresponds to prudence. 2. Now prudence, which counsel helps and protects, is eminently a practical gift of God, not so high as wisdom, not so wonderful in the beauty of its vision as knowledge or understanding, yet for all a most important and homely need. The other intellectual gifts of the Spirit are more abstract. They give us just the whisper of God that enables us to see the large ways of God in the world. They give, in consequence, the great principles that are to govern us in life. Hence their importance is very great. We do so seriously need to know by what principles we are to measure life's activities, on what basis to build up the fabric of our souls, to be sure that God's laws are very clearly and definitely made manifest to us. But, after all, that is only one-half of the difficulty, for even after I know the principles of action, I have still the trouble, in some ways more full of possibilities of mistake, of applying them to concrete experience. I know that sacrifice is the law of life, I know that meekness overindulged may be cowardice, I know that I may sin by not having anger; that is all evident, a series of platitudes. But here, and now, have I come to the limit of meekness? Must I manifest my angry protests? Am I obliged to attend to my own needs and renounce the idea of sacrifice? There daily are questions that puzzle, torture, bruise me with scruples. 3. Just here, then, I have intense need for this practical gift of God in order with nicety and precision to apply principles to concrete cases; often I am precipitate or perhaps dilatory. I am in a hurry or cannot make up my mind--shall I answer those who attack me, or shall I be silent? Our Lord was silent and made answer by turns. Counsel, then, is my need from God, the instinct whereby a practical judgment is quickly and safely made. All the more have I a tremendous need for this if my life is full of activity, if pressure of work, or social life, or the demands of good and useful projects, or the general tendency of my family surroundings, make my day crowded and absorbed, for the very combined and concentrated essence of life will need some exceedingly moderate influence to produce any sense of balance or proportion in my judgment. The people about me I notice to become more and more irritable, mere creatures of impulse. I feel some such malign influence invading the peaceful sanctuary of my soul, disturbing its even outlook on things, driving out my serene calm. I must anchor on to this gift of God, become prudent, detached, filling the mind with the counsel of the Holy Spirit. FORTITUDE 1. After the intelligence comes the will which also, because of the very large part it plays in all human action, needs to be perfected by a gift of the Spirit. It is necessary to repeat that the Holy Spirit does not by His gifts bestow on the soul new powers and new faculties, but develops, refines, perfects faculties already there. It is not the creation of new eyes to see new visions, but the strengthening of the eyes of the soul so as to see more clearly and with a longer sight. The will, then, has also to be strengthened, for it is the will that lies at the very heart of all heroism. Merely to have a glimpse of greatness is but part of a hero's need. No doubt it is a larger part, for very many of us never by instinct at all touch on the borders of greatness, we do not see or understand how in our little lives we can be great, we have not the imagination lit up by God, no vision; yet "when the vision fails, the people shall perish." But even when that sudden showing does by God's mercy come to us, we still fall far short of it. It is too high, too ideal, too far removed from weak human nature to seem possible to us. That is to say, our will has failed us. We are faced by some huge obstacle, or even by a persistent refusal to budge on behalf of some one (ourselves or another) to go forward and to do; we struggle, fail, lose heart, surrender, cease our efforts. What do we want? Fortitude, that "persistive constancy" that to Shakespeare was the greatest quality of human wills. 2. How is this achieved? By appreciating the nearness of God to us. The gifts make us responsive to God with an ease and instantaneousness that operates smoothly and without friction. That is God's doing, not ours. He gives us this wonderful power of being able to register at once every passing inspiration. The gifts that refine the intelligence allow it to perceive sights which else were hidden. The gift that refines the will must do this by some kindred action. Now the difficulties that beset the will must necessarily be difficulties for whose overcoming strength is needed. Therefore the will must be refined by being made strong. How can it be made strong by the Holy Spirit? What exactly happens to its mechanism to secure for it the power of endurance? The easiest way of understanding how this effect is brought about is to suppose that the soul by its refinement, by that delicacy whereby it responds instantly to a divine impression, is quickly aware of God's nearness to it. It perceives how close it is to the Spirit of God, and the sense of this nearness makes it better able to hold on to its duty. In the old style of warfare we often read of wives and mothers coming to the field of battle that their presence might awake their men to the topmost pitch of courage. Even in the modern methods of fighting, the moral effect of the presence of the emperor or king is considered to have an effect upon the troops. Of course here it is more homely, since the familiar presence of the Holy Spirit strengthens and inspires by love, trust, sympathy. 3. For this reason the name Comforter was given to the Holy Spirit, in its original sense of strengthening, becoming the fort of the soul; and the result is that the recipient is able to hold on or, in our modern slang, to "carry on." By nature so many of us are prone to seek our own comforts at the expense of what we know to be the higher side of us. Human respect makes us again cowardly, or the sheer monotony of perseverance dulls and wearies the soul. We get so depressed with the strain of making efforts that we are very much inclined to let the spiritual side of life go under, or at least be rendered as little heroic as possible, for it is real heroism even just to "go on." The "silent pressure" of temptations, when their passion and fury have died down, is a constant worry, an unconscious weight on the mind, like the thought of war that lies heavily at the back of the consciousness of those whose external lives seem empty of war-reminders. We want to be courageous and fearless, to _undergo_. Then we must hold fast to God's nearness to us, and feel the virtue going out from Him to us, though He does but touch the hem of our garments by His indwelling. PIETY 1. Besides our intelligence and will we have other faculties that go by a diversity of names; sometimes they are called the emotions, sometimes the passions, sometimes they are alluded to as the sentimental side of our nature; but by whatever name we may happen to call them, it is clear that they represent just those movements of our being which are not really rational in themselves, though they can be controlled by the reason. It is simplest to divide them into two classes and to realize that they lie just on the borderline between spirit and matter, partly of soul, partly of body. These two classes are arranged according as the emotion attracts or repels man. The repelled emotions are fear, anger, hatred, etc.; the attracted are love, desire, joy, etc. This gift of piety enables even the emotions to be made responsive to God. It is always the notion of some perfect instrument to be made harmonious that perhaps most clearly shows us the work of the Holy Spirit in the gifts of God, some perfect instrument, which needs to be so nicely at tuned that its every string shall give out a distinct note, and shall require the least movement from the fingers of God's right hand to make its immediate response. Here, then, we have first to record the fact that the purpose of this gift is to make the emotions or passions so refined, so perfectly strung, that at once the slightest pressure of the Divine instinct moves them to turn their love, desire, joy, towards God, finding in Him the satisfaction of their inmost heart. 2. Piety, in its Latin significance (and here in theology, of course, we get almost all our terms through the Latin tongue), means the filial spirit of reverence towards parents. Virgil gives to the hero of his Roman epic the repeated title of _pius_, because he wishes always to emphasize Æneas' devotion to his aged father. Hence it is clear that what is primarily intended here is that we should be quickly conscious of the Fatherhood of God. The mediæval mystics, especially our homely English ones like Richard Rolle of Hampole, and Mother Julianna of Norwich, curiously enough were fond of talking about the Motherhood of God in order to bring out the protective and devoted side of God's care for us; of course God surpasses both a mother's and father's love in His ineffable love for us. But then it is just that sweetness of soul in its attitude towards God, that this gift produces in me a readiness to perceive His love in every turn of fortune, and to discover His gracious pity in His treatment of my life. It requires a divine indwelling of the Spirit of God to effect this in my soul, for though I may be by nature easily moved to affection, prompt to see and profit by every opening for friendship, yet I must, no less, have a difficulty in turning this into my religious life without God's movement in my soul. 3. Perhaps the most unmistakable result of this is in the general difference between Catholic and non-Catholic nations, in their ideas of religion. Even if one takes a non-Catholic nation at its best and a Catholic nation at its worst, the gulf between them is enormous, for at its lowest the religion of the Catholic nation will be attractive at least with its joy, and the non-Catholic repellent with its gloom. There is a certain hardness about all other denominations of Christianity, a certain restrained attitude of awe towards God, which though admirable in itself, is perfectly hateful when it is made the dominant note in religion. Better joyous superstition than gloomy correctness of worship; better, far better, to find happy children who have little respect, and much comradeship, towards their parents, than neat and quiet children who are in silent awe of their parents. It is, then, to develop this side of religion that the gift of piety is given. The result then is a sweetness, a gracefulness, a natural lovingness towards God and all holy persons and things, as opposed to a gloomy, respectable, awkward, self-conscious hardness towards our Father in Heaven. Clever, trained people have most to be on their guard, for the intellectual activities of the soul are apt to crowd out the gentler, simpler side of character. FEAR 1. Catholics as a whole, then, we claim to be not in awe of God, but holding themselves to Him rather by love than fear; yet for all that there must come into our religion a notion also of fear, else God will be made of little account, dwarfed by His hero-followers, the saints. It is possible that familiarity with God may breed something which seems very like contempt. The majesty of God has got to be considered just as much as His love, for either without the other would really give a false idea of Him. Just as there are people who would give up all belief in Hell, because they prefer to concentrate upon His mercy, and, as a result, have no real love of God as He is in Himself, so there are people also who do not sufficiently remember the respect due to His awfulness, people who think of Him as a Redeemer, which indeed He is, but not as a Judge, which is equally His prerogative. Hence this side of our character is also to be made perfect by the indwelling of the Spirit of God, our fear, anger, hate, have got to be sanctified by finding a true object for their due exercise. No single talent must be wrapped away in uselessness; I must fear God, be angry with, and hate sin. Fear, then, as well as piety is a gift of the Spirit. 2. The chief way in which the absence of this gift of fear manifests itself is in the careless and slipshod way we perform our duties. We are sure to believe in God's justice and majesty; but we are not so sure to act up to our belief. Accuracy in devotion, in prayer, in life, is the result of a filial fear of God, and if I have to confess a very chaotic and uncertain procedure in my spiritual duties, then I can tell quite easily which gift I most need to make use of. What are my times for prayer like? Are they as regularly kept to as my circumstances permit? How about my subject for meditation, how about my following of the Mass, my watchfulness in prayer, my days for confession and communion? Again, my duties at home, in my profession, in the work I have undertaken? Are they on the whole punctually performed, accurately, with regard to details? That is where my fear for God should come in, for fear here is part of love and love is enormously devoted to little things, indeed finds that where it is concerned there are no little things, but time and place and manner and thoroughness have all got faithfully to be noted and carried out. Here, then, is where I shall find I need a reverential fear of God. 3. Yes, of course, pride and laziness will protest all the while, by urging that all this is a great deal of fuss about nothing, that God is our Father, that He perfectly understands, that we should not worry ourselves too much over trifles. Now pride and laziness often speak true things, or rather half-truths. It is true that God is my Father and understands; but it is equally true that I am His child and that love demands my thoroughness. Horror of sin, devotion to the sacrament of confession, the Scripture saying about a severe judgment for every idle word, all these things have got to be taken into account as well as the first set of principles. Piety needs fear for its perfect performance. The boy at first may have to be scolded into obedience to his mother. He does not at first realize, and is punished; but watch him when he is a grown man, no longer in subjection or under obedience; see how charmingly he cares for her by anticipating her wishes, how much he is at her beck and call, proudly foreseeing for her, protecting, caring. That is love, no doubt, but a love of reverence. They are comrades in a sense, but she is always his mother to him, some one to be idolized, reverenced, yes, and, really, feared, in the fullest sense of love. GRACE 1. The indwelling, then, of the Holy Spirit is a true and magnificent phrase. It means that we become living Temples of God. Elsewhere indeed He is in tree, flower, sky, earth, water; up in the Heavens, down to the depths of the lower places, in the cleft wood and lifted stone, in the heart of all creation by the very fact of its creation. Yet the higher a thing is in the scale of being the more nearly is it after God's image and likeness, so that man by his sheer intelligence is more representative of God, as the highest masterpiece is more representative of the author of it. Yet over and above this intelligent life of man is another life in him, which secures God's presence within him in some nobler fashion, for it is noticeable that Scripture repeatedly speaks of God's dwelling in His saints, and not dwelling in sinners. Now He is even in sinners by the title of their Creator, so that _dwelling_ must be a deliberate phrase chosen by the Inspired author of Scripture to represent some presence above the mere general presence of God everywhere. Consequently we are driven to the conclusion that the saints, in virtue of their sainthood, become dwelling places of God, temples, special places set apart, where in a more perfect way, with richer expression and more true representation, God is. Sanctity, therefore, constitutes something wholly supernatural, attracting God's indwelling, or rather resulting from this indwelling of God. 2. Now sanctity itself cannot mean that one man is able to make himself so alluring to God that he draws God to himself, for in that case God's action of indwelling would be motived by a creature, and God would have found some finite reason for His act. This cannot be, since the only sufficient motive for God can be God Himself. "He hath done all things on account of Himself," say the Scriptures. We can be sure, therefore, that the indwelling of the spirit is the cause and not the effect of the goodness that is in man, for the Saints are not born, but made by God. Hence we understand what is meant by saying that the justice of the Saints, their justification, is effected by grace, i. e., by God's free gift. It is not from them, but from Him: "Not to us, O Lord, not to us, but to Thy name give Glory." Grace, therefore, is the name given to that divine habit whereby the soul is made one with Him. It is clear, then, also, why in the catechism grace is called the supernatural life of the soul, and why mortal sin is called the death of the soul, since it kills the soul by depriving it of sanctifying grace. 3. This leads us to the last notion of grace, that it is in the supernatural order what the soul is in the natural order. My soul is everywhere in my body and gives evidence of its presence by the life there manifest; cut off a portion of the body, amputate a limb. It dies. The soul is no longer in it. So does grace work. It is right in the very essence of the soul, at the heart of it, and works through into all the faculties and powers by means of the virtues. It is the life of the whole assemblage of these habits of goodness. As soon as it is withdrawn, then at once charity goes, for we are out of friendship with God, and charity is nothing other than the love of God. Hope still and faith in some form remain, but without any inner life or energy to quicken them. All else is a crumbled ruin, without shape or life, a sight to fill those that can see it with horror and disgust. With grace the soul is once more thronged with vital activities, for grace is life. Grace it is that gives the same charm to the soul as life gives to the body; it imparts a freshness, an alertness, an elasticity, a spontaneous movement, a fragrance, a youth. By grace we are children in God's eyes, with the delicate coloring and sweetness of a child; without it we are old, worn, dead, not only useless to ourselves, but a pollution to others. Need one wonder if all life is different to the soul in sin? Religion, God, Heaven, Mass, prayers, have lost all attraction and are full of drudgery. Outwardly we feel the same; but our attraction to these higher gifts has gone, a prodigal as yet content with the husks of life's fruitage, relishing only the food of swine, without grace, spiritually dead. 
35839	----	EXAMINATION OF EDWARDS ON THE WILL. AN EXAMINATION OF PRESIDENT EDWARDS' INQUIRY INTO THE FREEDOM OF THE WILL. BY ALBERT TAYLOR BLEDSOE. "Man, as the minister and interpreter of nature, does and understands as much as his observations on the order of nature, either with regard to things or the mind, permit him, and neither knows more, nor is capable of more."--_Novum Organum_. PHILADELPHIA: H. HOOKER, 16 SOUTH SEVENTH STREET. 1845. ENTERED, according to act of Congress, in the year 1845, by H. HOOKER, in the clerk's office of the District Court for the Eastern District of Pennsylvania. King & Baird, Printers, 9 George St. TO THE REV. WILLIAM SPARROW, D. D. AS A TOKEN OF ADMIRATION FOR HIS GENIUS, AND AFFECTIONATE REGARD FOR HIS VIRTUES, This little Volume IS RESPECTFULLY INSCRIBED, BY THE AUTHOR. CONTENTS. INTRODUCTORY REMARKS SECTION I. OF THE POINT IN CONTROVERSY SECTION II. OF EDWARDS' USE OF THE TERM CAUSE SECTION III. THE INQUIRY INVOLVED IN A VICIOUS CIRCLE SECTION IV. VOLITION NOT AN EFFECT SECTION V. OF THE CONSEQUENCES OF REGARDING VOLITION AS AN EFFECT SECTION VI. OF THE MAXIM THAT EVERY EFFECT MUST HAVE A CAUSE SECTION VII. OF THE APPLICATION OF THE MAXIM THAT EVERY EFFECT MUST HAVE A CAUSE SECTION VIII. OF THE RELATION BETWEEN THE FEELINGS AND THE WILL SECTION IX. OF THE LIBERTY OF INDIFFERENCE SECTION X. OF ACTION AND PASSION SECTION XI. OF THE ARGUMENT FROM THE FOREKNOWLEDGE OF GOD SECTION XII. OF EDWARDS' USE OF THE TERM NECESSITY SECTION XIII. OF NATURAL AND MORAL NECESSITY SECTION XIV. OF EDWARDS' IDEA OF LIBERTY SECTION XV. OF EDWARDS' IDEA OF VIRTUE SECTION XVI. OF THE SELF-DETERMINING POWER SECTION XVII. OF THE DEFINITION OF A FREE-AGENT SECTION XVIII. OF THE TESTIMONY OF CONSCIOUSNESS INTRODUCTORY REMARKS. I ENTERED upon an examination of the "Inquiry" of President Edwards, not with a view to find any fallacy therein, but simply with a desire to ascertain the truth for myself. If I have come to the conclusion, that the whole scheme of moral necessity which Edwards has laboured to establish, is founded in error and delusion; this has not been because I came to the examination of his work with any preconceived opinion. In coming to this conclusion I have disputed every inch of the ground with myself, as firmly and as resolutely as I could have done with an adversary. The result has been, that the views which I now entertain, in regard to the philosophy of the will, are widely different from those usually held by the opponents of moral necessity, as well as from those which are maintained by its advocates. The formation of these views, whether they be correct or not, has been no light task. Long have I struggled under the stupendous difficulties of the subject. Long has darkness, a deep and perplexing darkness, seemed to rest upon it. Faint glimmerings of light have alternately appeared and disappeared. Some of these have returned at intervals, while others have vanished for ever. Some have returned, and become less wavering, and led on the mind to other regions of mingled obscurity and light. Gladly and joyfully have I followed. By patient thought, and sustained attention, these faint glimmerings have, in more instances than one, been made to open out into what has appeared to be the clear and steady light of truth. If these are not mere fond illusions, the true intellectual system of the world is far different from that which has been constructed by the logic of President Edwards. If his system be false, why, it may be asked, has the Inquiry so often appeared to be unanswerable? Why has it been supposed, even by some of the advocates of free agency, that logic is in favour of his system, while consciousness only is in favour of ours? One reason of this opinion is, that it has been taken for granted, that either the scheme of President Edwards or that of his opponents must be true; and hence, his system has appeared to stand upon immoveable ground, in so far logic is concerned, only because he has, with such irresistible power and skill, demolished and trampled into ruins that of his adversaries. Reason has been supposed to be on his side, because he has so clearly shown that it is not on the side of his opponents. But the scheme of the motive-determining power, does not necessarily arise out of the ruins of the self-determining power; it is only to the imagination that it appears to do so. Because the one system is false, it does not follow that the other is true. There is another and still more powerful reason for the idea in question. The advocates of free agency have granted too much. The great foundation principles of the scheme of moral necessity have been incautiously admitted by its adversaries. These principles have appeared so obvious at first view, that their correctness has not been doubted; and hence they have been assumed by the one side and conceded by the other. Yet, if I am not greatly mistaken, they have been derived, not from the true oracles of nature, but from what Bacon quaintly calls the "idols of the tribe." If this be the case, as I think it will hereafter appear to be; then in order to secure a complete triumph over the scheme of moral necessity, even on the arena of logic, we must not only know _how to reason_, but also _how to doubt_. I fully concur with the younger Edwards, that "Clarke, Johnson, Price, and Reid have granted too much;" and while I try to show this, I shall also endeavour to show that President Edwards has assumed too much, not for the good of the cause in which he is engaged, but for the attainment of truth. If his system had not been founded upon certain natural illusions, by which the true secrets of nature are concealed from our view, it could never have been the boast of its admirers, "that a reluctant world has been constrained to bow in homage to its truth." If we would try the strength of this system then, we must bend a searching and scrutinizing eye upon the premises and assumptions upon which it is based; we must put aside every preconceived notion, even the most plausible and commonly received opinions, and lay our minds open to the steady and unbiased contemplation of nature, just as it has been created by the Almighty Architect; we must view the intellectual system of the world, not as it is seen through our hasty and careless conceptions, but as it is revealed to us in the light of consciousness and severe meditation. This will be no light task, I am aware; but whosoever would seek the truth on such a subject, must not expect to find it by light and trifling efforts; he must go after it in all the loving energy of his soul. Let this course be pursued, honestly and perseveringly pursued, and I am persuaded, that a system of truth will be revealed to the mind, to which it will not be constrained to render "a reluctant homage," but which, by harmonizing the deductions of logic with the dictates of nature, will secure to itself the most pleasing and delightful homage of which the human mind is susceptible. Those false conceptions which are common to the human mind, those "idols of the tribe," of which Bacon speaks, have been, as it is well known, the sources of some of the most obstinate errors, both in science and in religion, that have ever infested the world. And it is evident, that while the assumptions from which any system, however false, legitimately results, are conceded, it will stand, like a wall of adamant, against the most powerful artillery of logic. It will remain triumphant in spite of all opposition. It may be contrary to our natural convictions, and consequently liable to our suspicions; but it cannot be refuted by argument. Its advocates may reason correctly, and its adversaries may appeal to opposite truths; but neither can ever arrive at the truth, and the whole truth. This has appeared to me to be the case, with respect to the long controverted question of liberty and necessity. The above causes, conspiring with some instances of false logic, which have been overlooked amid so much that is really conclusive, and also with a number of unsound, yet plausible, devices to reconcile the scheme of moral necessity with the reality of virtue and free-agency, have, in the minds of many, rendered the work of President Edwards both an acceptable and an unanswerable production. Such, at least, is the conclusion to which I have been constrained to come; but whether this conclusion be correct or not, it is not for me to determine. Time alone can show, whether the foundation of his system, like that of truth, is immutable, or whether, like many which have been laid by the master spirits of other ages, it is destined to pass away, though not to be forgotten. In the above enumeration of causes I have not alluded to those of a theological nature; because they have been but partial in their operation. And besides, I have not wished to refer to this subject at all, except in so far as, is necessary to indicate wherein I conceive the errors of the Inquiry to consist, and thereby to point out the course which I intend to pursue in the following discussion. SECTION I. OF THE POINT IN CONTROVERSY. IT is worse than a waste of time, it is a grievous offence against the cause of truth, to undertake to refute an author without having taken pains to understand exactly what he teaches. In every discussion, the first thing to be settled is the point in dispute; and if this be omitted, the controversy must needs degenerate into a mere idle logomachy. It seldom happens that any thing affords so much satisfaction, or throws so much light on a controversy, as to have the point at issue clearly made up, and _constantly borne in mind_. What then, is the precise doctrine of the Inquiry which I intend to oppose? The great question is, says Edwards, what determines the will. It is taken for granted, on all sides, that the will is determined; and the only point is, or rather has been, as to what determines it. It is determined by the strongest motive, says one; it is not determined by the strongest motive, says another. But although the issue is thus made up in general terms, it is very far from being settled with any tolerable degree of clearness and precision; ample room is still left for all that loose and declamatory kind of warfare in which so many controversialists delight to indulge. The question still remains to be settled, what is meant by determining the will? In regard to this point, the necessitarian does not seem to have a very clear and definite idea. "The object of our Inquiry," says President Day, "is not to learn whether the mind acts at all. This no one can doubt. Nor is it to determine _why we will at all_. The very nature of the faculty of the will implies that we put forth volitions. But the real point of inquiry is, _why we will one way rather than another; why we choose one thing rather than its opposite_," p. 42. One would suppose from this statement, that we have nothing to do with the question, _why we put forth volitions_, but exclusively with the question, why we will _one way rather than another_. Here the author's meaning seems to be plain, and we may imagine that we know exactly where to find him; but, in the very next sentence, he declares that the object of our inquiry is, "what is it that determines _not only that there shall be volitions_, but what they shall be?" p. 42. In one breath we are told, that we have nothing to do with the question, why our volitions are put forth or come into existence; these are admitted to be implied in the "very nature of the faculty of the will;" but, in the very next, we are informed that we have to inquire into this point also. One moment, only one of these points is in dispute, and the next, both are put in controversy. Surely, this does not indicate any very clear and definite idea, on the part of President Day, as to the point at issue. The notion of President Edwards, on this subject, appears to be equally unsteady and vacillating. "Thus," says he, "by determining the will, if the phrase be used with any meaning, _must be intended_, causing that the act of the _will should be thus, and not otherwise:_ and the will is said to be determined, when, in consequence of some action, or influence, its choice is directed to, and fixed upon a particular object. As when we speak of the determination of motion, we mean causing the motion of the body to be in such a direction, rather than another," p. 18. Now, are we to understand from this, that the determination of the will can only refer to the question, why it is directed to and fixed upon a particular object, and not to the question, how it comes to put forth a volition at all? One would certainly suppose so; and that, according to Edwards, we have nothing to do with the question, "How a spirit comes to act," but with the question, "why its action has such and such a particular direction and determination." But this supposition would be very far from the truth. For he informs us, that "the question is not so much, How a spirit endowed with activity comes to act, as why it exerts such an act, and not another; or why it acts with such a particular determination?" This clearly implies, that although the question, "How a spirit comes to act," is not chiefly concerned in the present controversy; yet _it is partly_ concerned in it. This question is concerned in it, though not _so much_ as the other question, why the act of the mind is as it is, rather than otherwise. This is not all. When Edwards attacks the doctrine of his adversaries, in regard to the determining of the will, he never seems to dream of the idea, which, according to himself, if the phrase mean any thing, _must_ be attached to it. He treats it as a settled point, that by determining the will must be intended, not causing volition to be one way rather than another, but causing it to come into existence. He could take this expression to mean the one thing or the other, just as it suited his purpose. Are these two questions really distinct? Can there be one cause of volition, and another cause of its particular direction? I answer, there cannot. No such distinction can be shown to exist by a reference to the cause of motion. Force is the cause of motion. One force may put a body in motion; and, afterwards, another force may change the direction of its motion. Upon a superficial observation, this may seem to illustrate the distinction in question; but, upon more mature reflection, it will not appear to do so. For the force which sets a body in motion necessarily causes it to move in one particular direction, and not another; because it is impossible for a body to move without moving in a particular direction. After one force has put a body in motion, another force, it is true, may change its direction; but in such a case, it is not correct to say, that one force caused its motion and another the direction of that motion. For, in reality, both the motion of the body and its direction, result from the joint action of the two forces; or, in other words, each force contributes to the motion, and each to its direction. Both the motion and its direction are caused by what is technically called, in mechanical philosophy, the "resultant" of the two forces; and the case is really not different, so far as the distinction in question is concerned, from the case of motion produced by the action of a single force. The absurdity of this distinction consists, in supposing that a body may be put in motion without moving in a particular direction; and that something else beside the cause of its motion, is necessary to account for the direction of that motion. The illustration, therefore, drawn from the phenomena of motion, fails to answer the purpose for which President Edwards has produced it. The same absurdity is involved in the supposition, that one thing may cause volition to exist, and another may cause it to be directed to and fixed upon a particular object. No man can conceive of a choice as existing, which has not some particular object. It is of the very nature and essence of a choice to have some particular direction and determination. If a choice exists at all, it must be a choice of some particular thing. Hence, whatever causes a volition to exist, must cause it to have a particular direction and determination. Let any one show a choice, which is not the preference of one thing rather than another, and then we may admit that there is some reason for the distinction in question; but until then, we must be permitted to regard it as having no foundation in the nature of things. If it were necessary, this matter might be fully and unanswerably illustrated; but a bare statement of it is sufficient to render it perfectly clear. We shall hereafter see, that the reason why President Edwards supposed that there is some foundation for such a distinction is, that he did not sufficiently distinguish between the cause of a thing and its condition. Although we may suppose that the "activity of the soul" is the cause of its acting; yet motive may be the indispensable condition of its acting; and, in this sense, may be the reason why a volition is one way rather than another. But it is denied that there can be two _causes_ in the case; one to produce volition, and another to determine its object. We have seen that such a supposition is absurd; and we shall hereafter see, that Edwards was led to make it, by confounding the condition with the cause of volition. After all, it may be said, that Edwards himself did not really consider these two things as distinct, but only as different aspects of the same thing. If so, it will follow, that when he undertook to establish his own scheme, he represented motive as the cause of volition; and yet when he was reminded, that the activity of the nature of the soul is the cause of its actions, he replied, that although this may be very true, yet this activity of nature is not the "cause why its acts are thus and thus limited, directed and determined." He replied that the question is not _so much_, "How a spirit comes to act," as why it acts thus, and not otherwise. That is to say, it will follow, that he chose to build up his scheme under one aspect of it, and to defend it under another aspect thereof; that as the architect of his system, he chose to assume and occupy the position, that motive is the cause of volition itself; yet as the defender of it, he sometimes preferred to present this same position under the far milder aspect, that although "the activity of spirit, may be the cause why it acts," yet motive is the cause why its acts are thus and thus limited, &c. In other words, it will follow, that his doctrine possesses two faces; and that with the one it looks sternly on the scheme of necessity, whilst, with the other, it seems to smile on its adversaries. The truth is, the great question which President Edwards discusses throughout the Inquiry, as we shall see, is "How a spirit comes to act;" and the other question, "why its action is thus and thus limited," &c., which, on occasion, swells out into such immense importance, as to seem to cover the whole field of vision, generally shrinks down into comparative insignificance. As a general thing, he goes along in the even tenor of his way, to prove that no event can begin to be without a cause of its existence; and, in particular, that no volition can come into existence without being caused to do so by motive; and it is only when it is urged upon him, that "a spirit endowed with activity" may give rise to its own acts, that he takes a sudden turn and reminds us, that the question is not so much "how a spirit comes to act?" as "why its acts are thus and thus limited?" From the supposition made by Edwards, that "if activity of nature be the cause why a spirit acts," it has been concluded that he regarded the soul of man as the efficient cause of its volitions, and motive as merely the occasion on which they are put forth or exerted. But surely, those who have so understood the Inquiry, have done so very unadvisedly, and have but little reason to complain, as they are prone to do, that his opponents do not understand him. If Edwards makes mind the efficient cause of volition, what becomes of his famous argument against the self-determining power, by which he reduces it to the absurdity of an infinite series of volitions? "If the mind causes its volition," says he, "it can do so only by a preceding volition; and so on _ad infinitum_." Is not all this true, on the supposition that the mind is the efficient cause of volition? And if so, how can any reader of Edwards, who does not wish to make either his author or himself appear ridiculous, seriously contend that he holds mind to be the efficient, or producing cause of volition? There be pretended followers and blind admirers of President Edwards, who, knowing but little of his work themselves, are ever ready to defend him, whensoever attacked, even by those who have devoted years to the study of the Inquiry, by most ignorantly and flippantly declaring that they do not understand him. These pseudo-disciples will not listen to the charge, that Edwards makes the strongest motive the producing cause of volition; but whether this charge be true or not, we shall see in the following section. SECTION II. OF EDWARDS' USE OF THE TERM CAUSE. WE have already seen that Edwards must be understood as holding motive to be the cause of volition; but still we cannot make up the issue with him, until we have ascertained in what sense he employs the term _cause_. It has been contended, by high authority, that he did not regard motive as the efficient, or producing cause of volition, but only as the occasion or condition on which volition is produced. Hence, it becomes necessary to examine this point, and to settle the meaning of the author, in order that I may not be supposed to misrepresent him, and to dispute with him only about words. The above notion is based on the following passage: "I would explain," says President Edwards, "how I would be understood when I use the word _cause_ in this discourse; since, for want of a better word, I shall have occasion to use it in a sense which is more extensive, than that in which it is sometimes used. The word is often used in so restrained a sense as to signify only that which has a positive efficiency or influence to produce a thing, or bring it to pass. But there are many things which have no such positive productive influence; which yet are causes in this respect, that they have truly the nature of a reason why some things are, rather than others; or why they are thus rather than otherwise.". . . . "I sometimes use the word _Cause_, in this Inquiry, to signify any antecedent, either natural or moral, . . . upon which an event so depends, that it is the ground or reason, either in whole or in part, why it is, rather than not; or why it is as it is, rather than otherwise; or, in other words, any antecedent with which a consequent event is so connected, that it truly belongs to the reason why the proposition which affirms that event, is true; whether _it has any positive influence, or not_. And, agreeably to this, I sometimes use the term _effect_ for the consequence of another thing, which is perhaps rather an occasion than cause, most properly speaking." And he tells us, that "I am the more careful thus to explain my meaning, that I may cut off occasion, from any that might seek occasion to cavil and object against some things which I may say concerning the dependence of all things which come to pass, on some cause, and their connection with their cause," p. 50-1. This is the portion of the Inquiry on which the younger Edwards founds his conclusion, that his father did not regard motive as the _efficient_ cause of volition, but only as the occasion, or condition, or antecedent of volition. He finds this language in the Essays of Dr. West; "We cannot agree with Mr. Edwards in his assertion, that motive is the cause of volition;" and he replies, "Mr. Edwards has very particularly informed us in what sense he uses the term _cause_;" and, in proof of this, he proceeds to quote a portion of the above extracts from the Inquiry. Having done this, he triumphantly demands, "Now, does Dr. West deny, that motive is an antecedent, on which volition, either in whole or in part depends? or that it is a ground or reason, either in whole or in part, either by positive influence or not, why it is rather than not? Surely, he cannot with consistency deny this, since he says, 'By motive we understand the _occasion_, end or design, which an agent has in view when he acts.' So that, however desirous Dr. West may be to be thought to differ, in this point, from President Edwards, it appears that he most exactly agrees with him," p. 65. Now, if Edwards really believed that motive is merely the occasion on which the mind acts, agreeing herein most perfectly with Dr. West, why did he not say so? Why adhere to the term cause, which can only obscure such an idea, instead of adopting the word occasion, or condition, or antecedent, which would have clearly expressed it? Surely, if Edwards maintained the doctrine ascribed to him, he has been most unfortunate in his manner of setting it forth; it is a great pity he did not give it a more conspicuous place in his system. It is to be regretted, that he has not once told us that such was his doctrine, in order that we might see for ourselves his agreement with Dr. West in this respect, instead of leaving it to the initiated few to enlighten us on this subject. He has, we are told, "very particularly informed us in what sense he uses the word cause," p. 64. Now is this so? Has he informed us that by _cause_ he means _occasion?_ He has done no such thing, and his language admits of no such construction. He merely tells us, that he _sometimes_ uses the term cause to signify an occasion only; but when and where he so employs it, he has not explained at all. He has not once said, that when he applies it to motive he uses it in the sense of an occasion, or antecedent; and, if he had said so, it would not have been true. The truth is, that he has used the word in question with no little vagueness and indistinctness of meaning; for he sometimes employs it to signify merely an occasion, which exerts no positive influence, and sometimes to signify a producing cause. This is the manner in which he uses it, when he applies it to motive. In his definition of motive, as the younger Edwards truly says, he includes "_every cause_ or occasion of volition;" every thing which has a "tendency to volition;" &c., p. 104. Thus, according to the younger Edwards himself, the elder Edwards has, in his definition of motive, included every conceivable cause of volition; and yet, when Dr. West objects that he makes motive the producing cause of volition, the very same writer replies that he has done no such thing: that he has "very particularly explained in what sense he uses the word cause" when applied to motive, and that he means "by _cause_, no other than _occasion, reason, or previous circumstance necessary for volition_; and that in this Dr. West entirely agrees with him," p. 65. If we may believe the younger Edwards, then, when the author of the Inquiry says, that motive is the cause of volition, he means that it is no other than the occasion or previous circumstance necessary to volition, and not that it is the cause thereof in the proper sense of the word; and yet that it is the cause thereof in every conceivable sense of the word! Now, he agrees with Dr. West himself; and again, he teaches precisely the opposite doctrine! Let those who so fondly imagine that they are the only men who understand the Inquiry, and that the most elaborate replies to it may be sufficiently refuted by raising the cry of "misconstruction;" let them, I say, take some little pains to understand the work for themselves, instead of merely giving echo to the blunders of the younger Edwards. President Edwards says, that the term cause is often used in so restrained a sense as to signify that which has "a _positive efficiency_ or _influence_ to _produce_ a thing, or bring it to pass." It is in this restrained sense that I use the word, when I say that President Edwards regarded motive as the cause of volition; and it is in this sense that I intend to make the charge good. I intend to show that he regarded motive, not merely as the occasion or condition of volition, but as that which _produces_ it. This position, as we have seen, has been denied by high authority; and therefore it becomes necessary to establish it, in order that I may not be charged with disputing only about words; and that although I may be exceedingly "desirous of being thought to differ with President Edwards" on this subject, yet I do "most exactly agree with him." To begin then;--if motive is merely the condition on which the mind acts, and exerts no influence in the production of volition, it is certainly improper to say, that it _gives rise to volition_. This clearly implies that it is the efficient, or producing cause of volition. On this point, let the younger Edwards himself be the judge. "That self-determination _gives rise_ to volition," is an expression which he quotes from Dr. Chauncey, and italicizes the words "gives rise to," as showing that the author of them regarded the mind as the efficient cause of volition. Now, President Edwards says, that the "strongest motive excites the mind to volition;" and he adds, that "the notion of exciting, is _exerting influence to cause the effect to arise and come forth into existence_," p. 96. Surely, if to give rise to a thing, is efficiently to cause it, no less can be said of exerting influence "to _cause it to arise and come forth into existence_." And if so, then, according to the younger Edwards himself, the author of the Inquiry regarded motive as the efficient cause of volition; and yet, on p. 66 he declares, that President Edwards did not hold "motive to be the efficient cause of volition;" and that if he has dropped any expression which implies such a doctrine, it must have been an inadvertency. I intend to show, before I have done, that there are many such inadvertencies in his work; the younger Edwards himself being the judge. Now, it will not be denied, that that which produces a thing, is its efficient cause. The younger Edwards himself has spoken of an "_efficient, producing_ cause," in such a manner as to show that he regarded them as convertible terms, p. 46. He being judge, then, that which produces a thing, is its efficient cause. I might easily show, if it were necessary, that he himself frequently speaks of motive as the efficient, or producing cause of volition; but, at present, I am only concerned with the doctrine of President Edwards. "It is true," says President Edwards, "I find myself possessed of my volitions before I can see the effectual power of any cause to _produce_ them, for the power and _efficacy_ of the cause is not seen but by the effect," p. 277. Here, from the volition, from the effect, he infers the operation of the cause or power which _produces_ it. Now this cause is motive, the strongest motive; for this is that which operates to induce a choice. Motive, then, _produces_ volition, according to the Inquiry; it is not merely the condition on which it is produced. The younger Edwards declares, that President Edwards did not regard "motive as the efficient cause of volition," p. 66, but only as the "occasion or previous circumstances necessary to volition;" in this respect "most exactly agreeing with Dr. West" himself; and yet he tells us, in another place, that "every cause of volition is included in President Edwards' definition of motive," p. 104. Now, does not every cause of volition include the efficient cause thereof? Does not this expression include that which is the cause of volition in the real, in the only proper, sense of the word? To save the consistency of the author, will it be said, that "every cause" does not include the efficient cause in his estimation, since in his opinion there is no such cause? If this should be said, it would not be true; for the younger Edwards did, as it is well known, regard the influence of the Divine Being as the efficient cause of volition. He regarded the Deity as the sole fountain of all efficiency in heaven and in earth. Hence, if the definition of President Edwards included "every cause" of volition; it must have included this divine influence, this efficient cause. Indeed, the younger Edwards expressly asserts, that this "divine influence" is included in President Edwards' "explanation of his idea of motive," p. 104. He tells us, then, that President Edwards regards motive as merely the _occasion_ of volition; and yet that he considered motive as including the efficient cause of volition! At one time, motive is merely the antecedent, which exerts no influence; at another, it embraces the efficient cause! At one time, the author of the Inquiry "most exactly agrees" with the libertarian in regard to this all-important point; and, at another, he most perfectly disagrees with him! It is to be hoped, that President Edwards is not quite so glaringly inconsistent with himself, on this subject, as he is represented to be by his distinguished son. Again. President Edwards has written a section to prove, that "volitions are necessarily connected with the influence of motives;" which clearly implies that they are brought to pass by the influence of motives. In this section, he says, "Motives do nothing, as motives or inducements, but by their influence. And so much as is _done by their influence_ is the effect of them. For that is the notion of an effect, something that _is brought to pass_ by the influence of something else." Here motives are said to be the causes of volitions, and to _bring them to pass by their influence_. Is this to make motive merely the condition on which the mind acts? Is this to consider it as merely an antecedent to volition, which exerts no influence? On the contrary, does it not strongly remind one of that "restrained sense of the word cause," in which it signifies, that which "has an influence to produce a thing, _or bring it to pass?_" Once more. In relation to the acts of the will, he adopts the following language to show that they are necessarily dependent on the influence of motives: "For an event to have a cause and ground of its existence, and yet not be connected with its cause, is an inconsistency. For if the event be not connected with the cause, it is not dependent on its cause; its _existence_ is as it were _loose from its influence_; and it may attend it, or it may not; its being a mere contingency, whether it follows or attends the influence of the cause, or not; and that is the same thing as not to be dependent on it. And to say the event is not dependent on its cause, _is absurd_; it is the same thing as to say, it is not its cause, nor the event the effect of it; for dependence on _the influence of a cause is the very notion of an effect_. If there be no such relation between one thing and another, consisting in the connexion and dependence of one thing on the influence of another, then it is certain there is no such relation between them as is signified by the relation of cause and effect," p. 77-8. Now, here we are told, that it is the very notion of an effect, that it owes its existence to the influence of its cause; and that _it is absurd_ to speak of an effect which is loose from the influence of its cause. It is this influence, "which causes volition to arise and come forth into existence." Any other notion of cause and effect is absurd and unmeaning. And yet, President Edwards informs us, that he sometimes uses the term cause to signify any antecedent, though it may exert no influence; and that he so employs it, in order to prevent cavilling and objecting. Now, what is all this taken together, but to inform us, that he sometimes uses the word in question _very absurdly_, in order to keep us from finding fault with him? The truth is, that whatever apparent concession President Edwards may have made, he does habitually bring down the term _cause_ to its narrow and restrained sense, to its strict and proper meaning, when he says, that motive is the cause of volition. He loses sight entirely of the idea, that it is only the _occasion_ on which the mind acts. I might multiply extracts to the same effect almost without end; but it is not necessary. It must be evident to every impartial reader of the Inquiry, that even if the author really meant by the above extracts, that motive is merely the antecedent to volition; this was only a momentary concession made to his opponents, with the vague and ill-defined hope, perhaps, that it would render his system less obnoxious to them. It had no abiding place in his mind. It was no sooner uttered than it was repelled and driven away by the whole tenor of his system. We soon hear him, as if no such thing had ever been dreamed of in his philosophy, asking the question, and that too, in relation to motives, "What _can be meant by a cause_, but something that is the ground and reason of a thing _by its influence_, AN INFLUENCE THAT IS PREVALENT AND EFFECTUAL," p. 97. Will it be pretended, that this does not come up to his definition of an efficient cause, as that which brings something to pass by "a _positive_ influence?" Such a pretext would amount to nothing; for Edwards has said, that "motives excite volition;" and "to excite, _is to be a cause in the most proper sense, not merely a negative occasion, but a ground of existence by positive influence,_" p. 96. An efficient cause is properly defined by the Edwardses themselves. "Does not the man talk absurdly and inconsistently," says the younger Edwards, "who asserts, that a man is the efficient cause of his own volitions, yet puts forth no exertion in order to cause it? If any other way of _efficiently_ causing an effect, be possible or conceivable, let it be pointed out," p.49. President Edwards evidently entertained the same idea; for he repeatedly says, that if the mind be the cause of its own volitions, it must cause them by a preceding act of the mind. The objection which he urges against the self-determining power, is founded on this idea of a cause. It is what he means, when he says, that the term _cause_ is "often used in so restrained a sense as to signify only that which has a _positive efficiency_ or _influence_ to _produce_ a thing, or _bring it to pass_." That President Edwards regarded motive as the efficient or producing cause of volition, according to his own notion of it, is clear not only from numerous passages of the Inquiry; it is also wrought into the very substance and structure of his whole argument. It is involved in his very definition of the strongest motive. The strongest motive, says he, is the whole of that which "_operates_ to induce a particular choice." Now, to say that one thing _operates_ to induce another, or bring it into existence, is, according to the definition of the younger Edwards himself, to say that it is the efficient cause of the thing so produced. If there be any meaning in words, or any truth in the definition of the Edwardses, then to say that one thing operates to produce another, is to say that it is its efficient cause. President Edwards, as we have seen, holds that motive is "the effectual power and efficacy" which produces volition. Again. Edwards frequently says, that "if this great principle of common sense, that every effect must have a cause, be given up, then there will be no such thing as reasoning from effect to cause. We cannot even prove the existence of Deity. If any thing can begin to be without a cause of its existence, then we cannot know that there is a God." Now, the sense in which this maxim is here used is perfectly obvious; for nothing can begin to be without an efficient cause, by which it is brought into existence. When we reason from those things which begin to be up to God, we clearly reason from effects to their efficient causes. Hence, when this maxim is applied by Edwards to volitions, he evidently refers to the efficient causes of them. If he does not, his maxim is misapplied; for it is established in one sense, and applied in another. If it proves any thing, it proves that volition must have an efficient cause; and when motive is taken to be that cause, it is taken to be the efficient cause of volition. This is not all. Edwards undertakes to point out the difference between natural and moral necessity. In the case of moral necessity, says he, "the cause with which the effect is connected is of a particular kind: viz., that which is of a moral nature; either some previous habitual disposition, or some motive presented to the understanding. And the effect is also of a particular kind, being likewise of a moral nature; consisting in some inclination or volition of the soul, or voluntary action." But the difference, says he, "does not lie so much _in the nature of the connection_, as in the two terms connected." Now, let us suppose that any effect, the creation of the world, for example, is produced by the power of God. In this case, the connection between the effect produced, the creation of the world, and the act of the divine omnipotence by which it is created, is certainly the connection between an effect and its efficient cause. The two terms are here connected by a natural necessity. But we are most explicitly informed, that the connection between motives and volitions, differs from this in the nature of the two terms connected, rather than in the nature of the connection. How could language more clearly or precisely convey the meaning of an author? To say that President Edwards does not make motive the efficient cause of volition, is, indeed, not so much to interpret, as it is to new model, his philosophy of the will. The connection between the strongest motive, he declares, and the corresponding volition, is "absolute," just as absolute as any connection in the world. If the strongest motive exists, the volition is sure to follow; it necessarily follows; it is _absurd_ to suppose, that it may attend its cause or not. To say that it may follow the influence of its cause, or may not, is to say that it is not dependent on that influence, that it is not the effect of it. In other words, it is to say that a volition is the effect of the strongest motive, and yet that it is not the effect of it; which is a plain contradiction. Such, as we have seen, is the clear and unequivocal teaching of the Inquiry. In conclusion, if Edwards really held, that motive does not produce volition, but is merely the occasion on which it is put forth, where shall we find his doctrine? Where shall we look for it? We hear him charged with destroying man's free-agency, by making motive the producing cause of volition; and we see him labouring to repel this charge. Truly, if he held the doctrine ascribed to him, we might have expected to find some allusion to it in his attempts to refute such a charge. If such had been his doctrine, with what ease might he have repelled the charge in question, and shown its utter futility, by simply alleging that, according to his system, motive is the occasion, and not the producing cause, of volition? Instead of the many pages through which he has so laboriously struggled, in order to bring our ideas of free-agency and virtue into harmony with his scheme; with what infinite ease might a single word have brought his scheme into harmony with the common sentiments of mankind in regard to free-agency and virtue! Indeed, if Edwards really believed that motive is merely the condition on which the mind acts, nothing can be more wonderful than his profound silence in regard to it on such an occasion; except the great pains which, on all occasions, he has taken to keep it entirely in the background. If the younger Edwards is not mistaken as to the true import of his father's doctrine, then, instead of setting it forth in a clear light, so that it may be read of all men, the author of the Inquiry has, indeed, enveloped it in such a flood of darkness, that it is no wonder those who have been so fortunate as to find it out, should be so frequently called upon to complain that his opponents do not understand him. Indeed, if such be the doctrine of the Inquiry, I do not see how any man can possibly understand it, unless he has inherited some peculiar power, unknown to the rest of mankind, by which its occult meaning may be discerned, notwithstanding all the outward appearances by which it is contradicted and obscured. The plain truth is, as we have seen, that President Edwards holds motive to be the producing cause of volition. According to his scheme, "Volitions are necessarily connected with the influence of motives;" they "are brought to pass by the prevailing and effectual influence" of motives. Motive is "the effectual power and efficacy" by which they are "produced." They are not merely caused to be thus, and not otherwise, by motive; they are "caused to arise and come forth into existence." This is the great doctrine for which Edwards contends; and this is precisely the doctrine which I deny. _I contend against no other kind of necessity but this moral necessity, just as it is explained by Edwards himself_. Here the issue with President Edwards is joined; and I intend to hold him steadily to it. No ambiguity of words shall, for a moment, divert my mind from it. If his arguments, when thoroughly sifted and scrutinized, establish this doctrine; then shall I lay down my arms and surrender at discretion. But if his assumptions are unsound, or his deductions false, I shall hold them for naught. If he reconciles his scheme of moral necessity with the reality of virtue, with the moral agency and accountability of man, and with the purity of God; then I shall lay aside my objections; but if, in reality, he only reconciles it with the semblance of these things, whilst he denies their substance, I shall not be diverted from an opposition to so monstrous a system, by the fair appearances it may be made to wear to the outward eye. SECTION III. THE INQUIRY INVOLVED IN A VICIOUS CIRCLE. THE great doctrine of the Inquiry seems to go round in a vicious circle, to run into an insignificant truism. This is a grave charge, I am aware, and I have ventured to make it only after the most mature reflection: and the justness of it, may be shown by a variety of considerations. In the first place, when we ask, "what determines the will?" the author replies, "it is the strongest motive;" and yet, according to his definition, the strongest motive is that which determines the will. Thus, says Edwards, "when I speak of the strongest motive, I have respect to the whole that operates to induce a particular act of volition, whether that be the strength of one thing alone, or of many together." If we ask, then, what produces any particular act of volition, we are told, it is the strongest motive; and if we inquire what is the strongest motive, we are informed, it is the whole of that which operated to produce that particular act of volition. What is this but to inform us, that an act of volition is produced by that which produces it? It is taken for granted by President Edwards, that volition is an effect, and consequently has a cause. The great question, according to his work, is, what is this cause? He says it is the strongest motive; in the definition of which he includes every thing that in any way contributes to the production of volition; in other words, the strongest motive is made to embrace every thing that acts as a cause of volition. This is the way in which he explains himself, as well as the manner in which he is understood by others. Thus, says the younger Edwards, "in his explanation of his idea of motive, he mentions all agreeable objects and views, all reasons and arguments, and all internal biases and tempers, which have a tendency to volition; i. e. every _cause_ or _occasion_ of volition," p. 104. Every reader of President Edwards must be satisfied that this is a correct account of his definition of motive; and this being the case, the whole amounts to just this proposition, that volition is caused by that which causes it! He admits that it would be hard, if not impossible, to enumerate all those things and circumstances which aid in the production of volition; but still he is quite sure, that the whole of that which operates to produce a volition does actually produce it! Though he may have failed to show wherein consists the strength of motives; yet he contends that the strongest motive, or the cause of volition, is really and unquestionably the cause of volition! Such is the great doctrine of the Inquiry. If this is what the Inquiry means to establish, surely it rests upon unassailable ground. Well may President Day assert, that "to say a weaker motive prevails against a stronger one is to say, that that which has the least influence has the greatest influence," p. 66. Now who would deny this position of the learned president? Who would say, that that which has the greatest influence has not the greatest influence? Surely, this great doctrine is to the full as certain as the newly discovered axiom of professor Villant, that "a thing is equal to itself!" President Day, following in the footsteps of Edwards, informs us that the will is determined by the strongest motive; but how shall we know what is the strongest motive? "The strength of a motive," says he, "is not its prevailing, but the power by which it prevails. Yet we may very properly measure _this power by the actual result!_" Thus are we gravely informed that the will is determined by that which determines it. Again. If we suppose there is a real strength in motives, that they exert a positive influence in the production of volitions, then we concede every thing to President Edwards. For, if motives are so many forces acting upon the will, to say that the strongest will prevail, is simply to say that it is the strongest. But if motives exert no positive influence, then when we say that one is stronger than another, we must be understood to use this expression in a metaphorical sense; we must refer to some property of motives which we figuratively call their strength, and of which we suppose one motive to possess a greater degree than another. If this be so, what is this common property of motives, which we call their strength? If they do not possess a real strength, if they do not exert an efficient influence; but are merely said, metaphorically speaking, to possess such power and to exert such influence; then what becomes of the self-evidence which President Edwards claims for his fundamental proposition motives exert a real force, of course the strongest must prevail; but if they only have something else about them, which we call their strength, it is not self-evident that the motive which possesses this something else in the highest degree must necessarily prevail. Hence, the great doctrine of President Edwards is either a proposition whose truth arises out of the very definition of the terms in which it is expressed, or it is utterly destitute of that axiomatical certainty which he claims for it. In other words, he has settled his great doctrine of the will by the mere force of a definition; or he has left its foundations quite unsettled. Motives, as they are called, are different from each other in nature and in kind; and hence, it were absurd to compare them in degree. "The strongest motive," therefore, is a mode of expression which can have no intelligible meaning, unless it be used with reference to the influence which motives are supposed to exert over the mind. This is the sense in which it clearly seems to be used by Edwards. The distinguishing property of a motive, according to his definition, is nothing in the nature of the motive itself; it consists in its adaptedness "to move or excite the mind to volition;" nor indeed could he find any other way of measuring or determining what he calls the strength of motives, since they are so diverse in their own nature from each other. He could not have given any plausible definition of the strength of motives, if he had looked at them as they are in themselves; and hence, he was under the necessity of defining it, by a reference to the "degree of tendency or _advantage_ they have to move or excite the will." Thus, according to the Inquiry, the will is determined by the strongest motive; and yet we can form no intelligible idea of what is meant by the strongest motive, unless we conceive it to be that which determines the will. The matter will not be mended, by alleging that the strongest motive is not defined to be that which actually determines the will, but that which has the greatest degree of previous tendency or advantage, to excite or move it; for we cannot know what motive has this greatest degree of previous tendency or advantage, except by observing what motive actually does determine the will. This leads us to another view of the same subject. The strength of a motive, as President Edwards properly remarks, depends upon the state of the mind to which it is addressed. Hence, in a great majority of cases, we can know nothing about the relative strength of motives, except from the actual influence which they exert over the mind of the individual upon whom they are brought to bear. This shows that the universal proposition, that the will is _always_ determined by the strongest motive, can be known to be true, only by assuming that the strongest motive is that by which the will is determined. The same thing may be made to appear from another point of view. It has been well said by the philosopher of Malmsbury, "that experience concludeth nothing universally." From experience we can pronounce, only in so far as we have observed, and no farther. But the proposition, that the will is always determined by the strongest motive, is a universal proposition; and hence, if true at all, its truth could not have been learnt from observation and experience. It must depend upon the very definition of the terms in which it is expressed. We cannot say that the will is in all cases determined by the strongest motive, unless we include in the very idea and definition of the strongest motive, that it is such that it determines the will. President Edwards not only does, but he must necessarily, go around in this circle, in order to give any degree of clearness and certainty to his doctrine. That President Edwards goes around in this vicious circle, may be shown in another way. "It appears from these things," says he, "that in some sense, _the will always follows the last dictate of the understanding_. But then the _understanding_ must be taken in a large sense, as including the whole faculty of perception or apprehension, and not merely what is called reason or judgment. If by the last dictate of the understanding is meant what reason declares to be best, or most for the person's happiness, taking in the whole of its duration, it is not true, that the will always follows the last dictate of the understanding," p. 25. In this place, President Edwards gives no distinct idea of what he means by the last dictate of the understanding, which the will is said to follow in all cases. But in the eighth volume of his works, that dictate of the understanding which the will is said to follow, is called the "practical judgment;" and this is defined to be, "that judgment which men make of things that prevail, so as to determine their actions and govern their practice." Here again are we informed, that the will always follows the practical judgment, and that the practical judgment is that which men make of things that prevail, so as to determine the will. The Inquiry itself furnishes abundant evidence, that I have done its author no injustice. "I have chosen," says he, "rather to express myself thus, _that the will always is as the greatest apparent good, or as what appears most agreeable_, than to say the will is determined by the greatest apparent good, or by what seems most agreeable; because an appearing most agreeable to the mind, and the mind's preferring, seem scarcely distinct. If strict propriety of speech be insisted on, it may more properly be said, that the _voluntary action_, which is the immediate consequence of the mind's choice, is determined by that which appears most agreeable, than the choice itself." After all, then, it seems that choice itself, or volition, is not determined by that which appears the most agreeable; because, in reality, the sense of the most agreeable and volition are one and the same thing. But surely, if we cannot distinguish between choice and the sense of the most agreeable, then to say that the one always is as the other, is only to say that a thing is always as it is. Edwards saw the absurdity of saying that a thing is determined by itself; but he does not seem to have seen how insignificant is the proposition, that a thing is always as it is, and not otherwise; and hence this is the form in which he has chosen to present the great leading idea of his work on the will. And henceforth we are to understand, that the preference of the mind is always as that which appears most agreeable to the mind; or, in other words, that the preference or choice of the mind is always as the choice of the mind. This is not all. President Edwards himself has frequently reduced the fundamental doctrine of the Inquiry to an identical proposition. It is well known, that "to be determined by the strongest motive," "to follow the greatest apparent good," "to do what is most agreeable," or "what pleases most," are all different modes of expression employed by him to set forth the same fundamental doctrine. In speaking of this doctrine, he says: "There is scarcely a plainer and more _universal_ dictate of the sense and experience of mankind, than that, when men act voluntarily, and do what they please, then they do what suits them best, or what is most _agreeable to them_. To say, that they do what _pleases_ them, but yet not what is agreeable to them, is the same thing as to say, they do what they please, but do not act their pleasure; and that is to say, that they do what they please, and yet do not what they please." Most assuredly, if to deny the leading proposition of the Inquiry, is to deny that men do what they please when they do what they please; then to affirm it, is only to advance the insignificant truism, that men do what they please when they do what they please. It seems to me, that after President Edwards had reduced his fundamental proposition to such a truism, he might very well have spared himself the three hundred pages that follow. Again, he says: "It is manifest that no acts of the will are contingent, in such sense as to be without all necessity, or so as not to be necessary with a necessity of consequence and connection; because every act of the will is some way connected with the understanding, and is as the greatest apparent good is, in the manner which has already been explained; namely, that the soul always wills or chooses that, which in the present view of the mind, considered in the whole of that view, and all that belongs to it, appears most agreeable. Because, as we observed before, nothing is more evident than that, when men act voluntarily, and do what they please, then they do what appears most agreeable to them; and to say otherwise would be as much as to affirm, that men do not choose what appears to suit them best, or what seems most pleasing to them; or that they do not choose what they prefer, _which brings the matter to a contradiction_." Thus, the great fundamental doctrine of the Inquiry is reduced by Edwards himself to the barren truism, that men do actually choose what they choose; a proposition which the boldest advocate of free-agency would hardly dare to call in question. After labouring through a whole section to establish this position, the author concludes by saying, "These things may serve, I hope, in some measure to illustrate and confirm the position laid down in the beginning of this section: viz. That the will is always determined by the strongest motive, or by the view of the mind which has the greatest previous tendency to excite volition. But whether I have been so happy as rightly to explain the thing wherein consists the strength of motives, or not, _yet my failing in this will not overthrow the position itself; which carries much of its own evidence along with it, and is a point of chief importance to the purpose of the ensuing discourse:_ and the truth of it I hope will appear _with great clearness_, before I have finished what I have to say on the subject of human liberty." Truly the position in question, as it is explained by the author himself, carries not only much, but all, of its own evidence along with it. Who can deny that a man always does what he pleases, when he does what he pleases? This truth appears with just as great clearness at the beginning, as it does at the conclusion, of the celebrated Inquiry of the author. It is invested in a flood of light, which can neither be increased by argument, nor obscured by sophistry. From the foregoing remarks, it appears, I think, that the fundamental doctrine of the Inquiry is a barren truism, or a vicious circle. If Edwards understood the import of his own doctrine, when he reduced it to the form that a man does what he pleases when he does what he pleases, it is certainly a truism; and if this is all his famous doctrine amounts to, it can have no bearing whatever upon the question as to the cause of volition; for whether the mind be the cause of its own volitions, or whether the strongest motive always causes them, or whether they have no causes at all, it is equally and unalterably true, that every man does what he pleases when he does what he pleases. There is no possible form of the doctrine of free-agency or contingency, however wild, which is at all inconsistent with such a truism. Edwards is not always consistent with himself. He sometimes represents the greatest apparent good, or sense of the most agreeable, as the cause of volition; and then his doctrine assumes the form, that the will is determined by the strongest motive, or the greatest apparent good. And yet he sometimes identifies a sense of the most agreeable with the choice itself; and then his doctrine assumes the form that the choice of the mind is always as the choice of the mind; and to deny it is a plain contradiction in terms. From the fact that Edwards has gone round in a circle, it has been concluded that he has begged the question; but how, or wherein he has begged it, is a point which has not been sufficiently noticed. The very authors who have uttered this complaint, have granted him the very thing for which he has begged. If volition is an _effect_, if it has a _cause_, then most unquestionably the cause of volition is the cause of volition. Admit that volition is an effect, as so many libertarians have done, and then his definition of motive, which includes every cause of volition, places his doctrine upon an immutable foundation. We might as well heave at the everlasting mountains as to try to shake it. Admit that volition is an effect, and what can we say? Can we say, that the strongest motive may exist, and yet no volition may follow from it? To this the necessitarian would instantly reply, that it any thing exists, and no volition follows thereupon, it is evidently not the cause of volition, and consequently is not the strongest motive; for this, according to the definition, includes every cause of volition: it is indeed absurd, to suppose that an effect should not proceed from its cause: This is the ground taken both by President Edwards and President Day. It is absurd, says the latter, to suppose that a weaker motive, or any thing else, can prevail over the stronger--and why? Because the strongest motive is that which prevails. "If it be said," he continues, "that _something else_ gives the weaker motive a superiority over the stronger; _then this something else is itself a motive_, and the united influence of the two is greater than that of the third," p. 66. Thus, say what we will, we can never escape this admirable net of words, that the will is determined by that which determines it. I do not intend, then, to engage in the hopeless task, of admitting volition to be an effect, and yet striving to extricate it from "the mechanism of cause and effect." This ground has long since been occupied by much abler persons than myself; and if they have failed of success, falling into innumerable inconsistencies, it is because, on such ground, success is impossible; and that notwithstanding their transcendant abilities, they have been fated to contradict themselves. SECTION IV. VOLITION NOT AN EFFECT. THE argument of the Inquiry, as I have shown, assumes that a volition is an effect in the proper sense of the word; that it is the correlative of an efficient cause. If it were necessary, this point might be established by a great variety of additional considerations; but, I presume that every candid reader of the Inquiry is fully satisfied in relation to it. If we mean by an effect, every thing that comes to pass, of course a volition is an effect; for no one can deny that it comes to pass. Or, if we include in the definition of the term, every thing which has a sufficient reason and ground of its existence, we cannot deny that it embraces the idea of a volition. For, under certain circumstances, the free mind will furnish a sufficient reason and ground of the existence of a volition. All that I deny is, that a volition does proceed from the mind, or from motive, or from anything else, in the same manner that an effect, properly so called, proceeds from its efficient cause. This is a point on which I desire to be distinctly understood. I put forth a volition to move my hand. The motion of the hand follows. Now, here I observe the action of the mind, and also the motion of the hand. The effect exists in the body, in that which is by nature passive; the cause in that which is active, in the mind. The effect produced in the body, in the hand, is the passive result of the prior direct action of the mind. It is in this restricted sense, that I use the term in question, when I deny that a volition is an effect. I do not deny that it depends for its production upon certain circumstances, as the conditions of action, and upon the powers of the mind, by which it is capable of acting in view of such circumstances. All that I deny is, that volition results from the prior action of mind, or of circumstances, or of any thing else, in the same manner that the motion of body results from the prior action of mind. Or, in other words, I contend that action is the invariable antecedent of bodily motion, but not of volition; that whatever may be its relations to other things, a volition does not sustain the same relation to any thing in the universe, that an effect sustains to its efficient cause, that a passive result sustains to the direct prior action by which it is produced. I hope I may be _always_ so understood, when I affirm that a volition is not an effect. It is in this narrow and restricted sense that Edwards assumes a volition to be an effect. He does not say, in so many words, that the mind cannot put forth a volition, except in the way of producing it by a preceding volition or act of the will; but he first assumes a volition to be an effect; and then he asserts, that the mind can be the cause of no _effect_, (italicising the term effect,) except by the prior action of the mind. Thus, having assumed a volition to be an effect, he takes it for granted that it cannot proceed from the mind in any way, except that in which any effect in the outer world proceeds from the mind; that is to say, except it be produced by the direct prior action of the mind, by a preceding volition. Thus he brings the idea of a volition under the above narrow and restricted notion of an effect; and thereby confounds the relation which subsists between mind and its volitions, with the relation which subsists between mind and its external effects in body. In other words, on the supposition that our volitions proceed from the mind, he takes it for granted that they must be produced by the preceding action of the mind; just as an effect, in the limited sense of the term, is produced by the prior action of its cause. It is in this assumption, that Edwards lays the foundation of the logic, by which he reduces the self-determining power of the mind to the absurdity of an infinite series of volitions. It is evident that such is the course pursued by Edwards; for he not only calls a volition, an effect, but he also says, that the mind can "bring no _effects_ to pass, but what are consequent upon its acting," p. 56. And again he says, "The will determines which way the hands and feet shall move, by an act of choice; and _there is no other way_ of the will's determining, directing, or commanding any thing at all." This is very true, if a volition is such an effect as requires the prior action of something else to account for its production, just as the motion of the "hands and feet" requires the action of the mind to account for its production; but it is not true, if a volition is such an effect, that its existence may be accounted for by the presence of certain circumstances or motives, as the conditions of action, in conjunction with a mind capable of acting in view of such motives. In other words, his assertion is true, if we allow him to assume, as he does, that a volition is an effect, in the above restricted meaning of the term; but it is not true, if we consider a volition as an effect in a larger sense of the word. Hence, the whole strength of Edwards' position lies in the sense which he arbitrarily attaches to the term _effect_, when he says that a volition is an effect. Now, is a volition an effect in such a sense of the word? Is it brought into existence, like the motion of body, by the prior action of any thing else? We answer, No. But how shall this point be decided? The necessitarian says, a moment before the volition did not exist, now it does exist; and hence, it necessarily follows, that there must have been a cause by which it was brought into existence. That is to say, it _must_ be an effect. True, it must be an effect, if you please; but in what sense of the word? Is volition an effect, in the same sense that the motion of the body is an effect? This is the question. And this question, I contend, is not to be decided by abstract considerations, nor yet by the laying of words together, and drawing conclusions from them. It is a question, not of logic, but of psychology. By whatever name you may please to call it, the true nature of a volition is not to be determined by reference to abstractions, nor by the power of words; but _by simply looking at it and seeing what it is_. If we would really understand its nature, we must not undertake to _reason it out;_ we must _open our eyes_, and _look_, and _see_. The former course would do very well, no doubt, if the object were to construct a world for ourselves; but if we would behold the glory of that which God has constructed for us, and in us, we must lay aside the proud syllogistic method of the schools, and betake ourselves to the humble task of observation--of patient, severe, and scrutinizing observation. There is no other condition on which we can "enter into the kingdom of man, which is founded in the sciences." There is no other course marked out for us by the immortal Bacon: and if we pursue any other we may wander in the dazzling light of a thousand abstractions, and behold whatever fleeting images of grandeur and of beauty we may be pleased to conjure up for ourselves; but the pure light of nature and of truth will be hid from us. What then is a volition just as it is revealed to us in the light of consciousness? Does it result from the prior action of mind, or of motive, or of any thing else? In other words, is it an _effect_, as the motion of body is an effect! We always conceive of the subject in which such an effect resides, as being wholly passive. President Edwards himself has repeatedly said, that it is the very notion of an effect, that it results from the action or influence of its cause; and that nothing is any further an effect, than as it proceeds from that action or influence. The subject in which it is produced, is always passive as to its production; and just in so far as it is itself active, it is not the subject of an effect, but the author of an action. Such is the idea of an effect in the true and proper sense of the word. Now does our idea of a volition correspond with this idea of an effect? Is it produced in the mind, and is the mind passive as to its production? Is it, like the motion of a body, the passive result of the action of something else? No. It is not the result of action; it is action itself. The mind is not passive as to its production; it is in and of itself an action of the mind. It is not _determined_; it is a _determination_. It is not a produced effect, like the motion of body; it is itself an original producing cause. It does seem to me, that if any man will only reflect on this subject, he must see that there is a clear and manifest difference between an ACT and an EFFECT. Although the scheme of Edwards identifies these two things, and his argument assumes them to be one and the same; yet his language, it appears to me, frequently betrays the fact, that his consciousness did not work in harmony with his theory. While speaking of the acts of the will as effects, he frequently says, that it is the very idea of an effect that it results from, and is necessarily connected with, the action of its cause, and that it is absurd to suppose that it is free or loose from the influence of its cause. And yet, in reference to volitions, he often uses the expression, "_this sort_ of effects," as if it did not exactly correspond with the "very idea of an effect," from which it is absurd to depart in our conceptions. When he gives fair play to consciousness, he speaks of different kinds of effects; and yet, when he returns to his theory and his reasoning, all this seems to vanish; and there remains but one clear, fixed, and definite idea of an effect, and to speak of any thing else as such is absurd. He now and then pays a passing tribute to the power of consciousness, by admitting that the soul exerts its own volitions, that the soul itself acts; but he no sooner comes to the work of argument and refutation, than it is motive that "causes them to be put forth or exerted," p. 96. Ever and anon, he seems to catch a whisper from the voice of consciousness; and he concedes that he sometimes uses the term cause to designate that which has not a _positive_ or _productive_ influence, p. 50-1. But this is not when he is engaged in the energy of debate. Let Mr. Chubb cross his path; let him hear the voice of opposition giving utterance to the sentiment, that "in motive there is no causality in the production of action;" and that moment the voice of consciousness is hushed in the most profound silence. He rises, like a giant, in the defence of his system, and he declares, that "to excite," as motives do, "is positively to do something," and "certainly that which does something, is the cause of the thing done by it." Yea, "to excite, _is to cause in the most proper sense, not merely a negative occasion_, but a ground of existence by _positive influence_," p. 96. These passages, which are scattered up and down through the Inquiry, in which the doctrine of liberty seems to be conceded, I cannot but regard as highly important concessions. They have been used to show that we misconceive the scheme of Edwards, when we ascribe to him the doctrine of fate. But when they are thus adduced, to show that we misrepresent his doctrine, I beg it may be remembered that such evidence can prove only one of two things; either that we do not understand what he teaches, or that he is not always consistent with himself. If he really held the doctrine of fatalism, we ought not to be surprised that he has furnished such evidence against himself. It is not in the nature of the human mind to keep itself always deaf to the voice of consciousness. It is not in the power of any system always to counteract the spontaneous workings of nature. Though the mind should be surrounded by those deep-seated, all-pervading, and obstinate illusions, by which the scheme of fatalism is made to wear the appearance of self-evident truth; yet when it loses sight of that system, it will, at times, speak out in accordance with the dictates of nature. The stern and unrelenting features of fatalism cannot always be so intimately present to the mind, as entirely to exclude it from the contemplation of a milder and more captivating system of philosophy. Notwithstanding the influence of system, how rigid soever may be its demands, the human mind will, in its moments of relaxation, recognize _in its feelings_ and _in its utterance_, those great truths which are inseparable from its very nature. Let it be borne in mind, then, that there is more than one process in the universe. Some things are produced, it is most true, by the prior action of other things; and herein we behold the relation of cause and effect, properly so called; but it does not follow, that all things are embraced by this _one_ relation. This appears to be so only to the mind of the necessitarian; from which one fixed idea has shut out the light of observation. He no longer sees the rich variety, the boundless diversity, there is in the works of God: all things and all modes and all processes of the awe-inspiring universe, are made to conform to the narrow and contracted methods of his own mind. Look where he will, he sees not the "free and flowing outline" of nature's true lineaments; he every where beholds the image of the one fixed idea in his mind, projected outwardly upon the universe of God; behind which the true secrets and operations of nature are concealed from his vision. Even when he contemplates that living source of action, that bubbling fountain of volitions, the immortal mind of man itself, he only beholds a _thing_, which is made to act by the action of something else upon it; just as a body is made to move by the action of force upon it. His philosophy is, therefore, an essentially shallow and superficial philosophy. The great name of Edwards cannot shield it from such condemnation. SECTION V. OF THE CONSEQUENCES OF REGARDING VOLITION AS AN EFFECT. IT has been frequently conceded that a volition is an effect; but to make this concession, without explanation or qualification, is to surrender the whole cause of free agency into the hand of the enemy. For if a volition is an effect, properly speaking, the only question is as to its efficient cause: it is necessarily produced by its cause. To make this matter clear, let us consider what is precisely meant by the term cause when it is thus used? An effect is necessarily connected, not with the _thing_ which is sometimes called its cause, but with the _action_ or _positive influence_ of that thing. Thus, the mind, or the power of the mind, is sometimes said to be the cause of motion in the body; but this is not to speak with philosophical precision. No motion of the body is necessarily connected, either with the mind itself, or with the power of the mind. In other words, if these should lie dormant, or fail to act, they would produce no bodily motion. But let the mind act, or will a particular motion, and the body will necessarily move in consequence of that action. Hence, it is neither with the mind, nor with the power of the mind, that bodily motion, as an effect, is necessarily connected; it is with an act of the mind or volition that this necessary connection subsists. A cause is said to imply its effect: it is not the mind, but an act of the mind, that implies motion in the body. This is evidently the idea of Edwards, when he says, as he frequently does, that an effect is necessarily connected with the _influence_ or _action_ of its cause. The term _cause_ is ambiguous; and when he says, that an effect is necessarily connected with its cause, he should be understood to mean, in accordance with his own doctrine, that the cause referred to _is the influence_ or _action_ by which it is produced, and not the thing which exerts that _influence_ or _action_. Thus, although motives are said to be causes of action, he contends, they can do nothing except by their influence; and so much as results from their influence is the effect of that influence, and is necessarily connected with it. Now, if a volition is an effect, if it has an efficient cause, what is that cause? By the _action_ of what is it produced? It cannot be by the act of the mind, says Edwards, because the mind can produce an _effect_ only by another act. Thus, on the supposition in question, we cannot ascribe a volition to the mind as its cause, without being compelled to admit that it results from a preceding act of the mind. But that preceding act, on the same supposition, will require still another preceding act to account for its production; and so on _ad infinitum_. Such is the absurdity which Edwards delighted to urge against the self-determining power of the mind. It is triumphantly based on the concession that a volition is an effect; that as such the prior _action_ of something else is necessary to account for its existence. And if we suppose, in accordance with the truth, that a volition is merely a state of the mind, which does not sustain the same relation to the mind that an effect does to its efficient cause, this absurdity will vanish. The doctrine of liberty will no longer be encumbered with it. Now, proceeding on the same supposition, let us conceive of a volition as resulting from the influence exerted by motive. If an _act_ of the mind is an effect, surely we may say, that the act or productive influence of motive, or of any thing else, is likewise an effect; and consequently must have a cause to account for its existence; and so on _ad infinitum_. Hence, the very absurdity which Edwards charges upon our system, really attaches to his own. Will it be said that this _ad infinitum_ absurdity does not result from the supposition in question, but from the fact that the mind can do nothing except by its action or influence? It is very true, as Edwards repeatedly declares, that the mind can be the cause of no _effect_, except by a preceding act of the mind. The truth of this proposition is involved in the very idea which he attaches to the term _effect_, and it is based upon this idea alone. And we may say, with equal propriety, that motive can be the cause of no _effect_, except by its action or productive influence. Indeed, Edwards himself expressly says, that motives can do nothing, except by an exertion of their influence, or by operating to produce effects. Thus, the two cases are rendered perfectly parallel; and afford the same foundation on which to erect an infinite series of causes. To evade this, can it be pretended, that motive just exerts this influence of itself? May we not with equal, nay, with infinitely greater propriety, contend that mind just exerts its own positive influence of itself? Or, will it be said, that it is a mistake, to suppose that Edwards ascribed any real, productive, or causal influence to motives; that he regarded them as the _occasions_ on which the mind acts, and not properly as the _causes_ of its action? If so, then the whole scheme of moral necessity is abandoned, and the doctrine of liberty is left to stand upon its own foundation, in the undisputed evidence of consciousness. The truth is, if we take it for granted, that a volition is an effect, properly so called, and as such must proceed from the prior action of something else, we cannot escape the _ad infinitum_, absurdity of the Inquiry. If we rise from this platform, we cannot possibly ascend in any direction, without entering upon an infinite series of causes. Whether we ascend through the self-determining power of the mind, or through the determining power of motives, or through the joint action of both, we can save ourselves from such an absurd consequence only by a glaring act of inconsistency. Hence, we are forced back upon the conclusion that action may, and _actually does_ arise in the world of mind, without any efficient or producing cause of its existence, without resulting from the prior action of any thing whatever. Any other hypothesis is involved in absurdity. Let it be assumed, that a volition is, properly speaking, an effect, and every thing is conceded. On this vantage ground, the scheme of necessity may be erected beyond the possibility of an overthrow. For, even if we "suppose that action is determined by the will and free choice," this "is as much as to say, that it must be necessary, being dependent upon, and determined by something foregoing; namely, a foregoing act of choice," p. 199. Let the above position be conceded, and there is no escape from this conclusion. Nay, the conclusion itself is but another mode of stating the position assumed. It is evident, then, that action must take its rise somewhere in the world, without being caused by prior action; or else there must be an infinite series of acts. I say it takes its rise in the mind, in that which is essentially active, and not in matter. Edwards does not say, that it takes its rise in matter; and hence, there is no dispute on this point. It is very remarkable, that this objection to his scheme, that it runs into an infinite series, seems never to have occurred to President Edwards. He seems to have endeavoured to anticipate and reply to all possible objections to his system; and yet this, which has occurred to so many others, appears not to have occurred to himself, for he has not noticed it. The younger Edwards has attempted to reply to it. Let us see his reply. "We maintain," says he, "that action may be the effect of a divine influence; or that it may be the effect of one or more second causes, the first of which is immediately produced by the Deity. Here then is not an infinite series of causes, but a very short series, which terminates in the Deity or first cause," p. 121. Thus, according to the younger Edwards, the infinite series of causes is cut short, terminating in the volition of Deity. What! does the volition of God come into existence without a cause of its existence? What then becomes of "that great principle of common sense," so often applied to volition, that no event can begin to be without a cause of its existence? Is this great principle given up? Has it become obsolete? It may be contended, that although human volition is an effect, and so must have a cause; yet the divine volition is not an effect. The elder Edwards could not have taken this ground; for he contends, that the volition of Deity is just as necessarily connected With the strongest motive, or the greatest apparent good, as is the volition of man. According to the Inquiry, all volitions, both human and divine, are necessarily connected with the greatest apparent good, and in precisely the same manner. The above pretext, therefore, could not have been set up by him. This ground, however, is taken by the younger Edwards. "It is granted," says he, "that volition in the Deity is not an effect," p. 122; it has no cause, and here terminates the series. But how is this? Can some event, after all, begin to be without having a cause of its existence? without being an effect? By no means. How is it then? Why, says the learned author, the volitions of the Deity have existed from all eternity! They have no causes; because they have never begun to be! "I deny," says he, "that the operations and energies of the Deity _begin in time_, though the effects of those operations do. They no more begin in time than the divine existence does; but human volitions all begin in time," p. 123. This makes all the difference imaginable; for as the divine acts have existed from all eternity, so they cannot be caused. But there is an objection to this view. "If it should be said," he continues, "that on this supposition the effects take place not till long after the acts, by which they are produced, I answer, they do so in our view, but not in the view of God. With him there is no time, no before nor after with respect to time," p. 124. Now, it will not be denied, that things appear to God just as they are in themselves; and hence, if his volitions, which are said to exist long before their effects, even from all eternity, appear to him not to exist long before them; then they do not in reality exist long before them. But if the divine volitions do not really exist long before their effects, but just before them, as other causes do before their effects, why should they not have causes as well as any other volitions? If they really exist just before their effects in time, and not long before them, why do they not exist in time just as much as any other volitions? and why do they not as much require causes to account for their existence? If they only seem to us to exist long before their effects, even from all eternity, how can this mere seeming make any real difference in the case? There is a very short series, we are told, the volition of Deity constituting the first link. Has not this first link, this volition of the Deity, a cause? No. And why? Because it has existed from all eternity; and so nothing could go before it to produce it. Did it not exist long before the effect then, which it produces in time? No. And why? Because in the view of God and in reality, it existed just before its effect, as all causes do, and therefore there is no real severance of cause and effect in the case! It really comes just before its effect in time, and therefore there is no severance of cause and effect; and yet it really existed before all time, even from all eternity, and therefore it cannot have a cause! Now is this logic, or is it legerdemain? There is no time with God, says the author; then there is no time in reality; it is all an illusion arising from the succession of our own thoughts. If this be so, then all things do really come to pass simultaneously; and if there were a very long series, even an infinite series of causes and effects, yet would they all come to pass in the same instant. Indeed, there is very great uncertainty about the speculations of philosophers in regard to time and space; and we hardly know what to make of them, except we cannot very well understand them; but one thing is abundantly certain; and that is, that it is not good logic, to assert that a particular cause cannot be produced, because it has existed long before its effect, even from all eternity; and yet repel objections to this assertion, by alleging that they only seem to do so, while in reality there is no such tiling. This is to turn from the illusion to the reality, and from the reality to the illusion, just as it suits the exigency of the moment. Such are the poor shifts and shallow devices, to which even gifted minds are reduced, when they refuse to admit that action, that volition, may take its rise in the world, spontaneously proceeding from mind itself, without being made to do so by the action of any thing upon it. Let us suppose, that a man should tell us, that a producing cause existed long before its effect; that there was nothing to prevent it from bringing its effect to pass; and yet, long after it had existed, its effect sprang up and came into existence; what should we think? Should we not see that it is absurd, in the highest degree, to say that an unimpeded causative act existed yesterday, and even from all eternity, unchanged and unchangeable; and yet its effect did not come to pass until to-day? Surely, no man in his right mind can be made to believe this, unless it be forced upon him by the desperate necessities of a false system; and if any person were told, that although such a thing may seem absurd to us, inasmuch as the cause seems to exist in full operation long before its effect, yet it is not so in the view of God, with whom there is no time, should he not be pardoned if he doubted the infallibility of his informant? The truth is, we must reason about cause and effect as they appear to us; and whether time be an illusion or not, we must, in all our reasonings, conceive of cause and effect as conjoined in what we call time, or we cannot reason at all. According to the younger Edwards, the act of creation, not the mere purpose to create, but the real causative act of creation, existed in the divine mind from all eternity. Why then did the world spring up and come into existence at one point of time rather than another? How happened it, that so many ages rolled away, and this mighty causative act produced no effect? In view of such a case, how could the author have said, as he frequently does, that a cause necessarily implies its effect? How can this be, if a causative act of the Almighty may exist, and yet, for millions of ages, its omnipotent energy produce no effect? Indeed, such a doctrine destroys all our notions of cause and effect; it overthrows "the great principle of common sense" that cause and effect necessarily imply each other; and involves all our reasoning from cause to effect, and _vice versa_, in the utmost perplexity and confusion. It throws clouds and darkness over the whole field of inquiry. Since the time of Dr. Samuel Clarke, it has been frequently objected to the scheme of moral necessity, that it is involved in the great absurdity of an infinite series of causes. President Edwards urged this objection against the doctrine of the self-determining power; he did not perceive that it lay against his own scheme of the motive-determining power; and hence, he has not even attempted to answer it. This was reserved for the younger Edwards; and although he has deservedly ranked high as a logician, I cannot but regard his attempt to answer the objection in question, as one of the most remarkable abortions in the history of philosophy. SECTION VI. OF THE MAXIM THAT EVERY EFFECT MUST HAVE A CAUSE. IN a former section, I referred to some of the false assumptions which have been incautiously conceded to the necessitarian, and in which he has laid the foundations of his system; but I have not, as yet, alluded to the argument or deduction in which he is accustomed to triumph. This argument, strange as it may seem, is a deduction, not from any principle or general fact which has been ascertained by observation or experience, but from a self-evident and universal truth. That every effect must have a cause, is the maxim upon which the necessitarian takes his stand, and from which he delights to draw his favourite conclusion. It may be well, therefore, to examine the argument which has been so frequently erected upon the maxim in question. Although from various considerations, it has been very justly concluded, that there is somewhere a lurking fallacy in the argument, yet it has not been precisely shown where the fallacy lies. Suspicion has been thrown over it: nay, abundant reason has been shown why it should be rejected; but yet the fallacy of it should be dragged from the place of its concealment, and laid open in a clear light, so as to render it apparent to every eye. If it is a sophism, it certainly can be exposed, and it should be done. In order to do this, it will be necessary to consider the nature and use of the maxim, that every effect must have a cause. I am aware, that no necessitarian of the present day, would choose to express this maxim as I have expressed it; for in such a form Mr. Hume has shown that it contains no information, and is indeed a most insignificant proposition. And, in truth, what does it amount to? Cause and effect are correlative terms; and when we speak of an effect, we mean something that is produced by a cause; and hence, the famous proposition, that every effect has a cause, amounts only to this, that every effect is an effect! After Mr. Hume had caused the subject to be viewed in this light, the usual mode of expression was dropped; and it has now become the common practice to say, that there is no change in nature without a cause. But I do not see how this mends the matter _in the least:_ it may disguise, but it does not alter the nature or real import of the maxim in question. For when it is said that every change has a cause, it is evident that a change is conceived of under the idea of an effect. It is supposed to be produced by a cause, and therefore it must be considered as an effect; and if the idea remains precisely the same, I do not see that giving it a new name, can possibly make any difference in the meaning of the proposition. The maxim, that every effect must have a cause, is a self-evident and universal proposition. Its truth is involved in the very definition of the terms of which it is composed. In this respect it is like the axioms of geometry. When it is said, for example, that "the whole is equal to the sum of the parts," we at once perceive the truth of the axiom; because the "whole" is merely another name for "the sum of the parts." It is intuitively certain that they are equal, because they are but different expressions of the same thing. So, likewise, when it is affirmed, that every effect or every change in nature has a cause, we instantly perceive the truth of the proposition; inasmuch as an effect is that which is produced by a cause. The very idea of an effect implies its relation to a cause; and to say, that it has one, is only to say, that an effect is an effect. For if it were not produced by a cause, it would not be an effect. The maxim under consideration is as unquestionably true as any axiom in Euclid. It does not depend for the evidence of its truth upon observation, or experience, or reasoning; it carries its own evidence along with it. No sooner are the terms in which it is expressed understood, than it rivets irresistible conviction on the mind. It is a fundamental law of belief; and it is impossible for the imagination of man to conceive, that an effect, or that which is produced by a cause, should be without a cause. And it were just as idle an employment of one's time, to undertake to prove such a proposition, as it would be to attempt to refute it. Now, one of the fallacies of the argument of the necessitarian is, that it is an attempt to draw a conclusion from the axiomatical truth above referred to, as from the major of a syllogism. Every such attempt must necessarily be vain and fruitless. "Axioms," justly remarks Mr. Locke, "are not the foundations on which any of the sciences are built." And again, "It was not the influence of those maxims which are taken for principles in mathematics, that hath led the masters of that science into the wonderful discoveries they have made. Let a man of good parts know all the maxims generally made use of in mathematics never so perfectly, and contemplate their extent and consequences as much as he pleases, he will, by their assistance, I suppose, scarce ever come to know, that the square of the hypothenuse in a right-angled triangle, is equal to the squares of the two other sides. The knowledge, that the whole is equal to the parts, and, if you take equals from equals, the remainder will be equal, helped him not, I presume, to this demonstration. And a man may, I think, pore long enough on those axioms, without ever seeing one jot the more of mathematical truths." The same doctrine is still more distinctly stated by Dugald Stewart. "If by the first principles of a science," says he, "be meant those fundamental propositions from which its remoter truths are derived, the axioms cannot, with any consistency, be called the first principles of mathematics. They have not, (it will be admitted,) the most distant analogy to what are called the first principles of natural philosophy:--to those general facts, for example, of the gravity and elasticity of the air, from which may be deduced, as consequences, the suspension of the mercury in the Torricellian tube, and its fall when carried up to an eminence. According to this meaning of the word, the first principles of mathematical science are, not the _axioms_ but the _definitions_; which definitions hold, in mathematics, precisely the same place that is held in natural philosophy by such general facts as have now been referred to." But the doctrine in question rests upon a firmer basis than that of human authority. Let any man examine the demonstrations in geometry, and attentively consider the principles from which the conclusions of that science are deduced, and he will find that they are _definitions_, and not _axioms_. He will find; that the properties of the triangle are derived from the definition of a triangle, and those of a circle from the definition of a circle. And then let him try his own skill upon the axioms of that science; let him arrange them and combine them in all possible ways; let him compare them together as long as he pleases, and determine for himself, whether they can be made to yield a single logical inference. If the question is thus brought to the test of an actual experience, I think it is not difficult to foresee, that the decision must be in favour of the doctrine of Stewart, and that it will be seen, that no such proposition as that whatever _is, is,_ can even constitute the postulate, or first principle, in any sound argument; and that it is only from general facts, such as are ascertained by observation and experience, that we can derive logical consequences of any kind whatever, either in relation to matter or to mind. If there is any truth in the foregoing remarks, or correctness in the position of Locke and Stewart, it is certainly one of the capital errors of Edwards, as well as of other necessitarians, that he has undertaken to deduce his doctrine from a metaphysical axiom, or identical proposition. Supposing this to be the case, how has it happened, it may be asked, that the argument of the necessitarian has appeared so conclusive to himself, as well as unanswerable to others? The reason is plain. Having set out with a proposition, which is barren of all consequences, as the basis of his argument, it became necessary, in order to arrive at the destined conclusion, to assume, somewhere and somehow, in the course of his reasoning, the very point which he had undertaken to prove. Accordingly, this has been done; and the tacit assumption of the point in dispute seems not to have been suspected by him. The justice of this remark may be shown, by a reference to the argument of the necessitarian. When this is reduced to the form of a syllogism, it stands thus: Every effect has a cause; a volition is an effect; and, therefore, a volition has a cause. In the middle term, which assumes that a volition is an effect, the point in dispute is taken for granted, the whole question is completely begged. If we take the words in any sense, yet as they are correlative terms, the maxim that every effect must have a cause is self-evident; and hence, no conclusion can be drawn from it, unless the conclusion intended to be drawn is assumed in the middle term of the syllogism. It either begs the question, or it decides nothing to the purpose. It is true, that every change in nature must have a cause; that is to say, it is in some sense of the word an effect, and consequently must have a corresponding cause; but in what sense does every act of the mind come under the idea and definition of an effect? This is the question. Is it brought to pass by the prior action of motive? Is it necessitated? Upon this precise question, the maxim that every change must have a cause can throw no light; it only seems to refer to this point, by means of the very convenient ambiguity of the terms in which it is expressed. The necessitarian never fails to avail himself of this ambiguity. He seems both to himself and to the spectator to be carrying on a "great demonstration;" and this is one reason, perhaps, why the mind is diverted from the sophistical tricks, the metaphysical jugglery, by which both are deceived. Let us look a little more narrowly at this pretended demonstration. The maxim in question is applied to volition; every change in nature, even the voluntary acts of the mind, must have a cause. Now according to Edwards' explanation of the term, this is a proposition which, I will venture to say, no man in his right mind ever ventured to deny. It is true, that President Edwards tells us of those, who "imagine that a volition has no cause, or _that it produces itself_;" and he has very well compared this to the absurdity of supposing, "that I gave myself my own being, or that I came into being without a cause," p. 277. But who ever held such a doctrine? Did any man, in his right mind, ever contend that "a volition could produce itself," can arise out of nothing, and bring itself into existence? If so, they were certainly beyond the reach of logic; they stood in need of the physician. I have never been so unfortunate as to meet with any advocate of free-agency, either in actual life or in history, who supposed that a volition arose out of nothing, without _any cause_ of its existence, or that it produced itself. They have all maintained, with one consent, that the mind is the cause of volition. Is the mind nothing? If a man should say, as so many have said, that the mind produces its own volitions, is that equivalent to saying, that nothing produces it; that it comes "into being accidentally, without any cause of its being?" Such is the broad caricature of their doctrine, which is repeatedly given by President Edwards. It is freely admitted, and the advocates of free-agency have always admitted, that volition has a cause, as that word is frequently used by Edwards. He tells us, that by cause he sometimes means any antecedent, whether it exerts any positive influence or no. Now, in this sense, it is conceded by the advocates of free-agency, that motive itself is the cause of volition. This is the question: Is motive the efficient, or producing cause of volition? This is the question, I say; but Edwards frequently loses sight of it in a mist of ambiguities; and he lays around him in the dark, with such prodigious strength, that if his adversaries were not altogether imaginary beings, and therefore impassible to his ponderous blows, I have no doubt he would have slain more of them than ever Samson did of the Philistines. The manner in which the necessitarian speaks of cause in his maxims, and reasonings, and pretended demonstrations, is of very great service to him. It includes, as we are told, every condition or cause of volition; (what a heterogeneous mass!) every thing without which volition could not come to pass. Yea, it is used in this sense, when it is said that motive is the cause of volition. What shall we do, then, with this broad, this most ambiguous proposition? Shall we deny it? If so, then we deny that volition has any cause of its existence, and fall into the great absurdity of supposing "volition to produce itself." Shall we assent to it, then? If so, we really admit that motive is the efficient cause of volition; and thus, by denying, we are made to reject our own doctrine, while, by affirming, we are made to receive that of our opponents. This way of proposing the doctrine of necessity very strongly reminds one of a certain trick in legislation, by which such things are forced into a bill, that in voting upon it, you must either reject what you most earnestly desire, or else sanction and support what you most earnestly detest. We should, therefore, neither affirm nor deny the whole proposition as it is set forth by the necessitarian; we should touch it with the dissecting knife, and cure it of its manifold infirmities. The ambiguity of the term cause is, indeed, one of the most powerful weapons, both of attack and defence, in the whole armory of the necessitarian. Do you affirm the mind to be the cause of volition? Then, forthwith, as if the word could have only one meaning, it is alleged, that if the mind is the cause of volition, it can cause it only by a preceding volition; and so on _ad infinitum_. Hence, your doctrine must needs be absurd; because the word is understood, yea, and will be understood, in its most restrained and narrow sense. But do you deny motive to be the cause of volition? Then, how absurd are you again; you are no longer understood to use the word in the same sense; you now mean, not only that motive is not the producing cause of volition, but that there is absolutely nothing upon which it depends for its existence, and that "it produces itself." Does Edwards affirm that motive is the cause of volition; that motive causes volition to arise and come forth into existence; that it is not merely "the negative occasion" thereof, but the cause in the most proper sense of the word; that it is "the effectual power which produces volition?" What then? Dare you assert, in the face of such teaching, that motive is not the cause of volition? If so, then you are a most obstinate and perverse caviller; and you are silenced by the information that he _sometimes_ uses the word cause to signify any antecedent, whether it has any positive influence or no. Yea, he gives this information, he declares, to "cut off occasion from any that might seek occasion to cavil and object against his doctrine," p. 51. These, and many other things of the same kind, are to be found in the writings of Day, and Edwards, and Collins, and Hobbes; and whosoever may be pleased to follow them, through all the doublings and windings of their logic, may do so at his leisure. It is sufficient for my present purpose to remark, that Edwards has included a number of different ideas in his definition of cause; and that he turns from the one to the other of these ideas, just as it suits the exigencies of his argument. It is in this way, as we have seen, that the famous maxim, that every change in nature must have a cause, has been made to serve his purpose. He did not look at a volition and an effect, so as to mark their differences narrowly, and to proceed in his reasonings according to them; he set out with the great and universal truth, that every change in the universe must have a cause; from which lofty position the differences of things in this nether world were invisible. Having secured this position to his entire satisfaction, being firmly persuaded in his own mind, that "nonentity could not bring forth," he supposed he had gained a strong foothold; and from thence he proceeded to reason downward to what actually takes place in this lower world! We are but "the humble servants and interpreters of nature," and we "can understand her operations only in so far as we have observed them." The necessitarian takes higher ground than this. He disdains the humble and patient task of observation. He plants his foot upon an eternal and immutable axiom; and, turning away from the study of what is, he magisterially pronounces what _must be_. It is easy to see how he constructs his system. Every change in nature must have a cause, says he; this is very true; there is no truth in the world more certain, according to the sense in which he frequently understands it. If he means to assert, that nothing, whether it be an entity, or an attribute, or a mode, can bring itself into existence, no one disputes his doctrine. It is most true, that there can be no choice without a mind that chooses, or an object in view of which it chooses; a mind, an object, and a desire, (if you please,) are the indispensable prerequisites, the invariable antecedents, to volition; but there is an immense chasm between this position and the doctrine, that the mind cannot put forth a volition, unless it is made to do so by the action of something else upon it. This immense chasm, the necessitarian can cross only by stepping over from one branch of his ambiguous proposition to another; he either does this, or he does not reach the point in controversy at all. SECTION VII. OF THE APPLICATION OF THE MAXIM THAT EVERY EFFECT MUST HAVE A CAUSE. IN the last section I considered the application of the maxim, "that every effect must have a cause," to the question of necessity. This maxim figures so largely in every scheme of necessity, and it is relied upon with so much confidence, that I shall present some further views respecting its true nature and application. The necessitarian may see the truth of this maxim clearly, but he applies it vaguely. He is always saying, "that if we give up this great principle of common sense, then there is no reasoning from effect to cause; and we cannot prove the existence of a God." Now I propose to show that we need not give up "this great principle of common sense;" that we may continue to reason from effect to cause, and so reach the conclusion that there is a God, by one of the most incontrovertible of all our mental processes; and yet we may, with perfect consistency, refuse to apply the maxim in question to human actions or volitions. In other words, that we may freely admit the principle in question, and yet reject the application which the necessitarian is accustomed to make of it. In order to do this in a perspicuous and satisfactory manner, let us consider the occasion on which we first became acquainted with the truth of the principle, that every effect must have a cause. Let us consider the circumstances under which it is first suggested to the mind. Whence, then, do we derive the ideas of cause and effect, and of the necessary connection between them? Locke, it is well known, supposed that we might derive the idea of causation by reflecting on the changes which take place in the external world. The fallacy of this supposition has been fully shown by Hume, and Brown, and Consin. In the refutation of Locke's notion, these celebrated philosophers were undoubtedly right; but the two first were wrong in the conclusion that we have no idea of power at all. Because the ideas of power and causation are not suggested by the changes of the material world, it does not follow that we have no such ideas in reality; that the only notion we have of causation is that of an invariable antecedence. The only way in which the mind ever comes to be furnished with the ideas of cause and effect at all is this: we are conscious that we will a certain motion in the body, and we discover that the motion follows the volition. It is this act of the mind, this exertion of the will, that gives us the idea of a cause; and the change which it produces in the body, is that from which we derive the idea of an effect. If we had never experienced a volition, we should never have formed the idea of causation. The idea of positive efficiency, or active power, would never have entered into our minds. The two terms of the sequence, with which we are thus furnished by an actual experience, is an act of the mind, or a volition, on the one hand, which we call an efficient cause; and a modification or change in inert, passive matter, on the other, which we call an effect. It is easy to see how we rise from this single experience to the universal maxim in question. We are so made and constituted, by the Author of our nature, that we cannot help believing in the uniformity of nature's laws, or sequences. Hence, whenever we see either term of the above sequence, we are necessarily compelled, by a fundamental law of belief, to infer the existence of the other. This fundamental law of belief, by which we repose the most implicit confidence in the uniformity of nature's sequences, has been recognized by many distinguished writers in modern times. It is well stated and illustrated by Dr. Chalmers. "The doctrine of innate ideas in the mind," says he, "is wholly different from the doctrine of innate tendencies in the mind--which tendencies may lie undeveloped till the excitement of some occasion have manifested or brought them forth. In a newly-formed mind, there is no idea of nature, or of a single object in nature; yet, no sooner is an object presented, or is an event observed to happen, than there is elicited the tendency of the mind to presume on the constancy of nature. At least as far back as our observation extends, the law of the mind is in full operation. Let an infant, for the first time in his life, strike on the table with a spoon; and, pleased with the noise, it will repeat that stroke with every appearance of a confident expectation that the noise will be repeated also. It counts on the invariableness wherewith the same consequent will follow the same antecedent. In the language of Dr. Thomas Brown, these two terms make up a sequence, and there seems to exist in the spirit of man not an underived, but an aboriginal faith in the uniformity of nature's sequences."--Nat. Theo. p. 121. Now, the two terms which we find connected in the case before us, is an act of the mind, and a change or modification of the body. The volition is the antecedent, and the motion of body is the consequent. And these two, by virtue of the law of belief above stated, we shall always expect to find conjoined. Wherever we discover a change or modification, for example, in the corporeal system of any other person, similar to that which results from our own volitions, we shall necessarily infer the existence of a prior act by which it was produced. Hence, when we witness a change _in the world of matter_, we are authorized to apply the maxim we have derived in the manner above explained. We have really no idea of an efficient cause, except that which we have derived from the phenomena of action. Hence, if we would not suffer ourselves to be imposed upon by words without meaning, when we see any change or effect in the material world, we should conclude that it proceeds from an action of spirit. When we see the same consequent, we should infer the existence of the same antecedent; and not suffer our minds to be confused and misled by the manifold ambiguities of language, as well as by the innumerable illusions of the fancy. Wherever we see a change in matter, we should infer an act by which it is produced; and thus, through all the changes and modifications of the material universe, we shall behold the sublime manifestations of an ever-present and all-pervading agency of spirit. By a similar process, we are made acquainted with the existence of an intelligent and designing First Cause. We learn the connection between the adaptation of means to an end, and the operations of a designing mind, by reflecting on what passes within ourselves when we plan and execute a work of skill and contrivance. And, as we are so made as to rely with implicit confidence on the uniformity of nature's sequences; so, without further experience or induction, it is impossible for us to conceive of any contrivance whatever, without conceiving of it as proceeding from the hand of a contriver. Thus, we necessarily rise from the innumerable and wonderful contrivances in nature, to a belief in the existence of an intelligent and designing mind. In like manner may we establish the other attributes of God. But to return to our maxim. We can only infer, from a change or modification in matter, the existence of an act by which it is produced. The former is the only idea we have of an effect; the latter is the only idea we have of an efficient cause. Hence, in reasoning from effect to cause, we can only reason from a change or modification in matter, or in that what is passive, to the act of some active power. This lays a sufficient foundation on which to rest the proof of the existence of God, as well as the existence of other minds. But the case is very different when we turn from the contemplation of a _passive result_ to consider an _efficient cause_--when we turn from the _motion of body_ to consider the _activity of mind_. In such a case, the consequent ceases to be the same; and hence we have no right to infer that the antecedent is the same. We are conscious of an act; we perceive that it is followed by a change in the outward world; and henceforth, whenever we observe another change in the outward world, we are compelled to ascribe it, also, to a similar cause. This conviction results from the constitution of our minds--from a fundamental law of belief. But when we contemplate, not a change in the outward world, in that which is passive, but an act of the mind itself, the case is entirely different. We have some experience that certain changes in matter are the results of certain acts; and hence, whenever we observe similar phenomena, we are under a necessity of our nature to refer them to similar causes. We merely rely upon our veritable belief in the uniformity of nature's sequences, without a reliance upon which there can be no such thing as reasoning, when we ascend from the changes in the outward world to a belief in the agency of an efficient Cause. But we have no experience that an act of the mind is produced by a preceding act of the mind, or by the prior action of any thing else. President Edwards himself admits that our experience is silent on this subject. And hence, when we witness an act of the mind, or when we are conscious of a volition, our instinctive belief in the uniformity of nature's sequences does not require us to believe that it has an efficient cause; or, in other words, that it is produced by the prior action of something else, as the motion of body is produced by a prior act of mind. _A change in body_ necessarily implies the prior action of something else by which it is produced; _an act of mind_ only implies the existence of an agent that is capable of acting. Wherever an act exists, we must believe that there is a soul, or mind, or agent, that is capable of acting. We need not suppose that, like a change in body, it is brought to pass by a prior act. In other words, a change in that which is by nature passive, necessarily implies an act by which it is produced. But an act of the mind itself, which is not passive, does not likewise imply a preceding act by which it is produced. _It only implies the existence of an agent that is capable of acting, and the circumstances necessary to action as conditions, not as causes._ Herein, then, lies the error of the necessitarian. He discovers from experience the connection between an act and a corresponding motion; and his instinctive belief in the uniformity of nature's sequences authorizes him to extend this connection to all sequences where the two terms are the same. That is to say, wherever he discovers a change in body, he is authorized to infer the existence of a prior act by which it was produced. But he does not confine himself to this sequence alone. He does not rest satisfied with the universal principle, that every change in body, or in that which is passive, must proceed from the prior action of something else. He makes a most unwarrantable extension of this principle. He supposes not only that every change in body, but also that every act of mind, must proceed from the prior action of something else. Thus he confounds passion and action. He takes it for granted that a volition is an _effect_--an effect in such a sense that it cannot proceed from the mind, unless it be produced by the prior act thereof. He asserts that "the mind cannot be the cause of such an effect," of a volition, "except by the preceding action of the mind." Thus, in rising from a single experience to a universal maxim, by virtue of our belief in the uniformity of nature's laws, he does not confine himself to the observed sequences; he does not keep his attention steadily fixed on a change in body as the consequent, and on an act as the invariable antecedent. On the contrary, from the exceedingly abstruse and subtle nature of the subject, as well as from the ambiguity of language, he treats a volition as a consequent, which implies the same kind of antecedent as does a change in body. Thus, by this unwarrantable extension or application of his principle, he confounds the _motion of body_ with the _action of spirit_; than which there could hardly be a more unphilosophical confusion of ideas. From the foregoing remarks, it will be perceived, as I have already said, that the question is not, _whether every effect must have a cause_. This is conceded. We do not give up "this great principle of common sense." We insist upon it as firmly as do our adversaries; and hence, we have as strong a foundation whereon to rest our belief in the being of a God. But the question is, _whether every cause is an effect?_ Or, in other words, whether an act of mind can exist without being produced by the prior action of something else; just as the motion of body is produced by the prior action of mind? We say that it can exist without any such producing cause. If it were otherwise, if every cause were an effect in the sense in which a volition is assumed to be an effect by the necessitarian, what would be the consequence? It is evident, that each and every cause in the universe must itself have a cause--must itself result from the preceding action of something else; and thus we should be involved in the great absurdity of an infinite series of causes, as well as in the iron scheme of an all-pervading necessity. But, happily, there is nothing in our experience, nor in any law of our nature, nor in both together, which requires us to believe that a volition is an effect in any such sense of the word. Call it an effect, if you please; but then it must be conceded that it is not, like the motion of body, such a consequent as necessarily requires the prior action of something else for its production. Every _effect_ must have a cause, it is true; but it is purely a gratuitous assumption--a mere _petitio principii_, to take it for granted that a volition is an effect in the sense in which the word should always be understood in this celebrated maxim. This maxim is undoubtedly true, as we have seen, when applied to the changes of that which cannot act: it is in reference to such effects, or consequents, that the conviction of its truth is first suggested; and we cannot doubt of the propriety of its application to all such effects, unless we can doubt of the uniformity of nature's sequences. But when we go over from the region of inert, passive matter, into that which is full of spiritual vigour and unceasing activity, and apply this maxim here in all its rigour, we do make a most unwarrantable extension of it. We pervert it from its true meaning and import; we identify volition with local motion; we involve ourselves in the greatest of all absurdities, as well as in the most ruinous of all doctrines. As we have already said, then, we do not give up the great principle of common sense, that every effect must have a cause. We recognize this principle when we reason from effect to cause--when we ascend from the creation up to the Creator. We deny that volition is an effect; and what then? If volition be not an effect, are there no effects in the universe? Are we sunk in utter darkness? Have we no platform left whereon to stand, and to behold the glory of God, our Creator and Preserver? Surely we have. Every change throughout inanimate nature bespeaks the agency of Him, who "sits concealed behind his own creation," but is everywhere manifested by his omnipresent energy. The human body is an effect, teeming with evidences of the most wonderful skill of its Great Cause and Contriver. The soul itself is an effect,--the soul, with all its complicated and wonder-working powers, is an effect; and clearly proclaims the wisdom, and the goodness, and the holiness of its Maker. The heavens above us, with all its shining hosts and admirable mechanism, proclaims the glory of God; and the whole universe of created intelligences shout for joy, as they respond in their eternal anthems to the "music of the spheres." And is not this enough? Is the whole psaltery of heaven and earth marred, and all its sweet harmony turned into harsh discord, if we only dare to assert that an act is not an effect? No, no: this too proclaims the glory of God; for, however great may be the mystery, it only shows that the Almighty has called into existence innumerable creatures, bearing the impress of his own glorious image, and that, in consequence thereof, they are capable of acting without being compelled to act. It is the position of Edwards, and not ours, that would disprove the existence of a God. We believe in action which is uncaused by any prior action; and hence, we can reason from effects up to Cause, and there find a resting-place. We do not look beyond that which is uncaused. We believe there is action somewhere, uncaused by preceding action; and if we did not believe this, we should be constrained to adopt the doctrine of Edwards, that action itself must be caused "by the action of something else," p. 203; which necessarily lands us in an infinite series of causes; the very ground occupied by Atheists in all ages of the world. It is well, therefore, to hold on to "this great principle of common sense, that every effect must have a cause," in order that we may rise from the world and its innumerable wonders to the contemplation of the infinite wisdom and goodness of God: it is also well that we should hold it with a distinction, and not apply it to action, in order that we may not be forced beyond the Great First Cause--the central light of the Universe, into the "outer darkness" of the old atheistic scheme of an infinite series of causes. If we give up this principle, we cannot prove the existence of a God, it is most true; but yet, if we apply this principle as Edwards applies it, we are irresistibly launched upon an infinite series of causes, and compelled to shoot entirely beyond the belief of a God. We quarrel not, therefore, with his great principle; but we utterly reject his application of it, as leading directly to Atheism. SECTION VIII. OF THE RELATION BETWEEN THE FEELINGS AND THE WILL. IT is well known that Edwards confounds the sensitive part of our nature with the will, the susceptibility by which the mind feels with the power by which it acts. He expressly declares, that "the affections and the will are not two faculties of the soul;" and it is upon this confusion of things that much of his argument depends for its coherency. But although he thus expressly confounds them; yet he frequently speaks of them, in the course of his argument, as if they were two different faculties of the soul. Thus, he frequently asserts that the will is determined by "the strongest appetite," by "the strongest disposition," by "the strongest inclination." Now, in these expressions, he evidently means to distinguish appetite, inclination, and disposition, from the will; and if he does not, then he asserts, that the will is determined by itself, a doctrine which he utterly repudiates. The soundness of much of his argument depends, as I have said, upon the confusion or the identification of these two properties of the mind; the soundness of much of it also depends upon the fact that they are not identical, but distinct. From a great number of similar passages, we may select the following, as an illustration of the justness of this remark: "Moral necessity," says he, "may be as _absolute_, as natural necessity. That is, the effect may be as powerfully connected with its moral cause, as a natural necessary effect is with its natural cause. Whether the will in every case is necessarily determined by the strongest motive, or whether the will ever makes any resistance to such a motive, or can ever oppose the strongest present inclination, or not; if that matter should be controverted, yet I suppose none will deny, but that, in some cases, a previous bias, or inclination, or the motive presented, may be so POWERFUL, THAT THE ACT OF THE WILL MAY BE CERTAINLY AND INDISSOLUBLY CONNECTED THEREWITH. When motives or previous bias are very strong, all will allow that there is some _difficulty_ in going against them. And if they were yet stronger, the difficulty would be still greater. And, therefore, if more be still added to their strength, to a certain degree, it would make the difficulty so great, that it would be wholly _impossible_ to surmount it; for, this plain reason, because whatever power men may be supposed to have to surmount difficulties, yet that power is not infinite; and so goes not beyond certain limits. If a man can surmount ten degrees of difficulty of this kind with twenty degrees of strength, because the degrees of strength are beyond the degrees of difficulty; yet if the difficulty be increased to thirty, or an hundred, or a thousand degrees, and his strength not also increased, his strength will be wholly insufficient to surmount the difficulty. As, therefore, it must be allowed, that there may be such a thing as a _sure_ and _perfect_ connexion between moral causes and effects; so this only is what I call by the name of _moral necessity_." Now he here speaks of inclination and previous bias, as elsewhere of appetite and disposition, as distinct from volition. In this he is right; even the necessitarian will not, at the present day, deny that our desires, affections, &c., are different from volition. "Between motive and volition," says President Day, "there must intervene an apprehension of the object, and _consequent feeling excited in the mind_." Thus, according to President Day, feeling is not volition; it intervenes between the external object and volition. But although Edwards is right in this; there is one thing in which he is wrong. He is wrong in supposing that our feelings possess a real strength, by which they act upon and control the will. It is obvious that the coherency and force of the above passage depends on the idea, that there is a real power in the strongest inclination or desire of the mind, which renders it difficult to be surmounted or overcome. For if we suppose, that our inclinations or desires are merely the occasions on which we act, and that they themselves exert no influence or efficiency in the production of our volitions, it would be absurd to speak of the difficulty of overcoming them, as well as to speak of this difficulty as increasing with the increasing strength of the inclination, or desire. Take away this idea, show that there is no real strength in motives, or desires and inclinations, and the above extract will lose all its force; it will fall to pieces of itself. Indeed, the idea or supposition in question, is one of the strongholds of the necessitarian. External objects are regarded as the efficient causes of desire; desire as the efficient cause of volition; and in this way, the whole question seems to be settled. The same result would follow, if we should suppose that desire is awakened not exclusively by external objects, but partly by that which is external, and partly by that which is internal. On this supposition, as well as on the former, the will would seem to be under the dominion of the strongest desire or inclination of the soul. The assumption, that there is a real efficiency exerted by the desires and inclinations of the soul, has been, so far as I know, universally conceded to the necessitarian. He seems to have been left in the undisputed possession of this stronghold; and yet, upon mature reflection, I think we may find some reason to call it in question. If I am not greatly mistaken, we may see that the necessitarian has some reason to abate the loftiness of his tone, when he asserts, that "we _know_ that the feelings do exert an influence in the production of volition." This may appear very evident to his mind; nay, at first view, it may appear very evident to all minds; and yet, after all, it may be only an "idol of the tribe." It is a commonly received opinion, among philosophers, that the passions, desires, &c., do really exert an influence to produce volition. This was evidently the idea of Burlamaqui. He draws a distinction between voluntary actions and free actions; and as an instance of a voluntary action which is not free, he cites the case of a man who, as he supposes, is constrained to act from fear. He supposes that such an action, though voluntary, is not free, because it is brought about by the irresistible influence of the passion of fear. It is believed, also, by the disciples of Butler, that there is a real strength possessed by what are called the "active powers" of the mind. "This distinction," says Dr. Chalmers, "made by the sagacious Butler between the power of a principle and its authority, enables us in the midst of all the actual anomalies and disorders of our state, to form a precise estimate of the place which conscience naturally and rightly holds in man's constitution. The desire of acting virtuously, which is a desire consequent on our sense of right and wrong, may not be of _equal strength_ with the desire of some criminal indulgence, and so, practically, the evil may predominate over the good. And thus it is that the system of the inner man, from _the weakness_ of that which claims to be the ascendant principle of our nature, may be thrown into a state of turbulence and disorder."--Nat. The. p. 313. Such was the idea of Butler himself. He frequently speaks of the supremacy of conscience, in terms such as the following: "That principle by which we survey, and either approve or disapprove, our heart, temper, and actions, is not only to be considered as what in its turn is to have some influence, which may be said of every passion, of the basest appetite; but likewise as being superior; as from its very nature manifestly claiming superiority over all others; insomuch that you cannot form a notion of this faculty conscience, without taking in judgement, direction, and superintendency. This is a constituent part of the idea, that is of the faculty itself; and to preside and govern, from the very economy and constitution of man, belongs to it. Had it _might_, as it has right; had it _power_, as it has manifest authority; it would absolutely govern the world." This language, it should be observed, is not used in a metaphorical sense; it occurs in the statement of a philosophical theory of human nature. Similar language is frequently to be found in the writings of the most enlightened advocates of free-agency. Thus, says Jouffroy, even while he is contending against the doctrine of necessity: "There are two kinds of _moving powers_ acting upon us; first, the impulses of instinct, or passion; and, secondly, the conceptions of reason. . . . . That these two kinds of moving powers can and do, act efficiently upon our volitions, there can be no doubt," p. 102. If it were necessary, it might be shown, by hundreds of extracts from their writings, that the great advocates of free-agency have held, that the emotions, desires, and passions, do really act on the will, and tend to produce volitions. But why dwell upon particular instances? If any advocate of free-agency had really believed, that the passions, desires, affections, &c., exert no influence over the will, is it not certain that he would have availed himself of this principle? If the principle that no desire, or affection, or passion, is possessed of any power or causal influence, had been adopted by the advocates of free-agency, its bearing in favour of their cause would have been too obvious and too important to have been overlooked. The necessitarian might have supposed, if he had pleased, that our desires and affections are produced by the action of external objects; and yet, on the supposition that these exerted no positive or causal influence, the doctrine of liberty might have been most successfully maintained. For, after all, the desires and affections thus produced in the mind, would not, on the supposition in question, be the causes of our volitions. They would merely be the occasions on which we act. There would be no necessary connexion between what are called motives and their corresponding actions. Our desires or emotions might be under the influence and dominion of external causes, or of causes that are partly external and partly internal; but yet our volitions would be perfectly free from all preceding influences whatever. Our volitions might depend on certain conditions, it is true, such as the possession of certain desires or affections; but they would not result from the influence or action of them. They would be absolutely free and uncontrolled. The reason why this principle has not been employed by the advocates of free-agency is, I humbly conceive, because it has not been entertained by them. In short, if the advocates of free-agency had shaken off the common illusion that there is a real efficiency, or causal influence, exerted by the desires of the soul, they would have made it known in the most explicit and unequivocal terms. Instead of resorting to the expedients they have adopted, in order to surmount the difficulties by which they have been surrounded, they would, every where and on all occasions, have reminded their adversaries that those difficulties arise merely from ascribing a literal signification to language, which is only true in a metaphorical sense; and we should have had pages, not to say volumes, concerning this use of language, where we have not had a syllable. If the illusion in question has been as general as I have supposed, it is not difficult to account for its prevalence. The fact that a desire, or affection is the indispensable condition, the invariable antecedent, of an act of the will, is of itself sufficient to account for the prevalence of such a notion. Nothing is more common than for men to mistake an invariable antecedent for an efficient cause. This source of error, it is well known, has given rise to some of the most obstinate delusions that have ever infested and enslaved the human mind. And besides, when such an error or illusion prevails, its hold upon the mind is confirmed and rendered almost invincible by the circumstance, that it is interwoven into the structure of all our language. In this case in particular, we never cease to speak of "the active principles," of "the ruling passion," of "ungovernable desire," of "the dominion of lust," of being "enslaved to a vicious propensity;"--in a thousand ways, the idea that there is a real efficiency in the desires and affections of the soul, is wrought into the structure of our language; and hence, there is no wonder that it has gained such an ascendency over our thoughts. It has met us at every turn; it has presented itself to us in a thousand shapes; it has become so familiar, that we have not even stopped to inquire into its true nature. Its dominion has become complete and secure, just because its truth has never been doubted. The illusion in question, if it be one, has derived an accession of strength from another source. It is a fact, that whenever we feel intensely, we do, as a general thing, act with a proportioned degree of energy; and _vice versa_. Hence, we naturally derive the impression, that the determinations of the will are produced by the strength of our feelings. If the passion or desire is languid, (since we must use a metaphor,) the action is in general feeble; and if it is intense, the act is _usually_ powerful and energetic. Hence, we are prone to conclude, that the mind is moved to act by the influence of passion or desire; and that the energy of the action corresponds with the strength of the motive, or moving principle. Though the principle in question has been so commonly received, I think we should be led to question it in consequence of the conclusions which have been deduced from it. If our desires, affections, &c., operate to influence the will, how can it be free in putting forth volitions? How does Mr. Locke meet this difficulty? Does he tell us, that it arises solely from our mistaking a metaphorical for a literal mode of expression? Far from it. He does not place liberty on the broad ground, that the desires by which volitions are supposed to be determined, are in reality nothing more than the conditions or occasions on which the mind acts; and that they themselves can exert no positive influence or efficiency. The liberty of the soul consists, according to him, not in the circumstance that its desires do not _operate_, but in its power to arrest the operation of its desires. He admits that they operate, that they tend to produce volition; but the mind is nevertheless free, because it can suspend the operation of desire, and prevent the tendency thereof from passing into effect. "There being," says he, "in us a great many uneasinesses always soliciting and ready to determine the will, it is natural, as I have said, that the greatest or most pressing should determine the will to the next action; and so it does for the most part, but not always. For the mind having in most cases, as is evident in experience, a power to suspend the execution and satisfaction of its desires, and so all, one after another, examine them on all sides, and weigh them with others. In this lies the liberty man has." Thus we are supposed to be free, because we have a power to resist, in some cases at least, the influence of desire. But this is not always the case. Our desires may be so strong as entirely to overcome us--and what then? Why we cease to be free agents; and it is only when the storm of passion subsides, that we are restored to the rank of accountable beings. "Sometimes a boisterous passion hurries away our thoughts," says Locke, "as a hurricane does our bodies, without leaving us the liberty of thinking on other things, which we would rather choose. But as soon as the mind regains the power to stop or continue, begin or forbear, any of these motives of the body without, or thoughts within, according as it thinks fit to prefer either to the other, we then consider the man as a free-agent again." This language is employed by Mr. Locke, while attempting to define the idea of liberty or free-agency; and he evidently supposed, as appears from the above passage, as well as from some others, that we frequently cease to be free-agents, in consequence of the irresistible power of our desires or passions. Dr. Reid set out from the same position, and he arrived at the same conclusion. He frequently speaks of the appetites and passions as so many forces, whose action is "directly upon the will." "They draw a man towards a certain object, without any further view, by a sort of violence."--Essays, p. 18. "When a man is acted upon by motives of this kind, he finds it easy to yield to the strongest. They are like two forces pushing him in contrary directions. To yield to the strongest, he need only be passive," p. 237. "In actions that proceed from appetite and passion, we are passive in part and only in part active. They are therefore in part imputed to the passion; and if it is supposed to be irresistible, we do not impute them to the man at all. Even an American savage judges in this way; when in a fit of drunkenness he kills his friend; as soon as he comes to himself, he is very sorry for what he has done, but pleads that drink, and not he, was the cause," p. 14, 15. Such is the dreadful consequence, which Dr. Reid boldly deduces from the principle, that the appetites and passions do really act upon the will. Though he was an advocate of free-agency; yet, holding this principle, he could speak of _actions that are partly passive;_ and that in so far as they are passive, he maintained they should not be imputed to the man whose actions they are, but to the passions by which they are produced, This may appear to be strange doctrine for an advocate of free-agency and accountability; but it seems to be the natural and inevitable consequence of the commonly received notion with respect to the relation which subsists between the passions and the will. The principle that our appetites, desires, &c., do exert a real influence in the production of volition, was common to Edwards, Locke, and Reid: indeed, so far as I know, it has been universally received. In the opinion of Edwards, this influence becomes "so powerful" at times as to establish a moral necessity beyond all question; and in that of Locke and Reid, it is sometimes so great as to destroy free-agency and accountability. Is not this inference well drawn? It seems to me that it is; and this constitutes one reason, why I deny the principle from which it is deduced. Is it true, then, that any power or efficacy belongs to the sensitive or emotive part of our nature? Reflection must show us, I think, that it is absurd to suppose that any desire, affection, or disposition of the mind, can really and truly exert any positive or productive influence. When we speak of the appetites, desires, affections, &c., as the "active principles" of our nature, we must needs understand this as a purely metaphorical mode of expression. Edwards himself has shown the impropriety of regarding similar modes of speech as a literal expression of the truth. "To talk of liberty," says he, "or the contrary, as belonging to the _very will itself_, is not to speak good sense; if we judge of sense, and nonsense, by the original and proper signification of words. For the will _itself_ is not an agent that _has a will:_ the power of choosing, itself, has not a power of choosing. That which has the power of volition is the man, or the soul, and not the power of volition itself. To be free is the property of an agent, who is possessed of powers and faculties, as much as to be cunning, valiant, bountiful, or zealous. But _these qualities are the properties of persons_, and not the _properties of properties_." This remark, no doubt, is perfectly just, as well as highly important. And it may be applied with equal force and propriety, to the practice of speaking of the strength of motives, or inclinations, or desires; for power is a "property of the person, or the soul; and not the property of a property." It appeared exceedingly absurd to the author of the "Inquiry," to speak of "the free acts of the will," as being _determined by the will itself;_ because the _will_ is not an agent, and "actions are to be ascribed to agents, and not properly to the powers and properties of agents." But he seemed to perceive no absurdity, in speaking of "the free acts of the will," as being caused by the strongest motives, by the dispositions and appetites of the soul. Now, are the strongest motives, as they are called, are the strongest dispositions and desires of the soul, agents, or are they merely the properties of agents? Let the necessitarian answer this question, and then determine whether his logic is consistent with itself. Mr. Locke, also, has well said, that it is absurd to inquire whether "the will be free or no; inasmuch as _liberty_, which is but a _power_, belongs only to agents, and cannot be an attribute or modification of will, which is also but a power." Though Mr. Locke applied this remark to the usual form of speech, by which freedom is ascribed to the will, he failed to do so in regard to the language by which power, which is a property of the mind itself, is ascribed to our desires, or passions, or affections, which are likewise properties of the mind. And hence have arisen many of his difficulties in regard to the freedom of human actions. Supposing that our desires exerted some positive influence or efficiency in the production of volitions, his views on the subject of free-agency become vague, inconsistent, fluctuating and unsatisfactory. The hypothesis that the desires impel the will to act, is inconsistent with observed facts. If this hypothesis were true, the phenomena of volition would be very different from what they are. A man may desire that it should rain, for example; he may have the most intense feeling on this subject imaginable, and there may be no counteracting desire or feeling whatever; now if desire ever impelled a man to volition, it would induce him, in such a case, to will that it should rain. But no man, in his senses, ever puts forth a volition to make it rain--and why? Just because he is a rational creature, and knows that his volition cannot produce any such effect. In the same manner, a man might wish to fly, or to do a thousand other things which are beyond his power; and yet not make the least effort to do so, not because he has no power to put forth such efforts, but because he does not choose to make a fool of himself: This shows that desire, feeling, &c., is merely one of the conditions necessary to volition, and not its producing cause. Again. It has been frequently observed, since the time of Butler, that our passive impressions often become weaker and weaker, while our active habits become stronger and stronger. Thus, the feeling of pity, by being frequently excited, may become less and less vivid, while the active habit of benevolence, by which it is supposed to be induced, becomes more and more energetic. That is to say, while the power, as it is called, or the causal influence, is gradually diminishing, the effect, which is supposed to flow from it, is becoming more and more conspicuous. And again, the feeling of pity is sometimes exceedingly strong; that is to say, exceedingly vivid and painful, while there is no act attending it. The passive impression or susceptibility is entirely dissociated, in many cases, from the acts of the will. The feeling often exists in all its _power_, and yet there is no act, and no disposition to act, on the part of the individual who is the subject of it. The cause operates, and yet the effect does not follow! All that we can say is, that when we see the mind deeply agitated, and, as it were, carried away by a storm of passion, we also observe that it frequently acts with great vehemency. But we do not observe, and we do not know, that this increased _power of action_, is the result of an increased _power of feeling_. All that we know is, that as a matter of fact, when our feelings are languid, we are apt to act but feebly; and that when they are intense, we are accustomed to act with energy. Or, in other words, that we do not _ordinarily_ act with so much energy in order to gratify a slight feeling or emotion, as we do to gratify one of greater intensity and painfulness. But it is wrong to conclude from hence, that it is the increased intensity of feeling, which produces the increased energy of the action. No matter how intense the feeling, it is wrong to conclude, that it literally causes us to act, that it ever lays the will under constraint, and thereby destroys, even for a moment, our free-agency. Such an assumption is a mere hypothesis, unsupported by observation, inconsistent with the dictates of reason, and irreconcilable with observed facts. I repeat it, such an assumption is inconsistent with observed facts; for who that has any energy of will, has not, on many a trying occasion, stood firm amid the fiercest storm of passion; and, though the elements of discord raged within, remained _himself_ unmoved; giving not the least sign or manifestation of what was passing in his bosom? Who has not felt, on such an occasion, that although the passions may storm, yet the will alone is power? It is not uncommon to see this truth indirectly recognized by those who _absolutely know_ that some power is exerted by our passions and desires, and that the will is always determined by the strongest. Thus, says President Day, "our acts of choice, are _not_ always controlled by those emotions which _appear to be most vivid_. We often find a determined and settled purpose, apparently calm, but unyielding, which carries a man steadily forward, amid all the solicitations of appetite and passion The inflexible determination of Howard, _gave law to his emotions_, and guided his benevolent movements," p. 65. Here, although President Day holds that the will is determined by the strongest desire, passion, or emotion, he unconsciously admits that the will, "the inflexible determination," is independent of them all. Let it be supposed, that no one means so absurd a thing as to say, that the affections themselves act upon the will, but that the mind in the exercise of its affections acts upon it, and thereby exerts a power over its determinations; let us suppose, that this is the manner in which a real force is supposed to bear upon the will; and what will be the consequence? Why, if the will is not distinguished from the affections, we shall have the will acting upon itself; a doctrine to which the necessitarian will not listen for a moment. And if they are distinguished from the will, we shall have two powers of action, two forces in the mind, each contending for the mastery. But what do we mean by a will, if it is not the faculty by which the mind acts, by which it exerts a _real force?_ And if this be the idea and definition of a will, we cannot distinguish the will from the affections, and say that the latter exerts a real force, without making two wills. This seems to be the inevitable consequence of the commonly received notion, that the mind, in the exercise of its affections, does really act upon the will with an impelling force. Indeed, there seems to have been no little perplexity and confusion of conception on this subject, arising from the extreme subtlety of our mental processes, as well as from the ambiguities of language. The truth is, that in feeling the mind is passive; and it is absurd to make a passive impression, the active cause of any thing. The sensibility does not _act_, it merely _suffers_. The appetites and passions, which have always been called the "active powers," the "moving principles," and so forth, should be called the passive susceptibilities. Unless this truth be clearly and fully recognized, and the commonly received notion respecting the relation which the appetites and passions sustain to the will, to the _active power_, be discarded, it seems to me, that the great doctrine of the liberty of the will, must continue to be involved in the sadest perplexity, the most distressing darkness. SECTION IX. OF THE LIBERTY OF INDIFFERENCE. IF, as I have endeavoured to show, the appetites and passions exert no positive influence in the production of volition, if they do not sustain the relation of cause to the acts of the will; then is the doctrine of the liberty of indifference placed in a clear and strong light having admitted that the sensitive part of our nature always tends to produce volition, and in some cases irresistibly produces it, the advocates of free agency have not been able to maintain the doctrine of a perfect liberty in regard to all human actions. They have been compelled to retire from the broad and open field of the controverted territory, and to take their stand in a dark corner, in order to contend for that perfect liberty, without which there cannot be a perfect and unclouded accountability. Hence, it has been no uncommon thing, even for those who have been the most disposed to sympathize with them, to feel a dissatisfaction in reading what they have written on the subject of a liberty of indifference. This they have placed in a perfect freedom to choose between a few insignificant things, in regard to which we have no feeling; while, in regard to the great objects which relate to our eternal destiny, we have been supposed to enjoy no such freedom. The true liberty of indifference does not consist, as I have endeavoured to show, in a power to resist the influence of the appetites and passions struggling to produce volition; because there is no such influence in existence. This notion is encumbered with insuperable difficulties; it supposes two powers struggling for the mastery--the desires on the one hand, and the will on the other; and that when the desires are so strong as to prevail, and bear us away in spite of ourselves, we cease to be free agents. It supposes that at no time we have a perfect liberty, unless we are perfectly destitute of feeling; and that at some of the most trying, and critical, and awful moments of our existence, we have no liberty at all; the whole man being passive to the power and dominion of the passions. What a wound is thus given to the cause of free-agency and accountability! What scope is thus allowed for the sophistry of the passions! Every man who can persuade himself that his appetites, his desires, or his passions, have been too strong for him, may blind his mind to a sense of his guilt, and lull his conscience into a fatal repose. The necessitarian, like a skilful general, is not slow to attack this weak point in the philosophy of free-agency. If our emotions operate to produce volition, says he, then the strongest must prevail; to say otherwise, is to say that it is not the strongest. This is the ground uniformly occupied by President Day. And it is urged by President Edwards, that if a great degree of such influence destroys free agency, as it is supposed to do, then every smaller degree of it must impair free agency; and hence, according to the principles and scheme of its advocates, it cannot be perfect. Is not this inference well drawn? Indeed, it seems to me, that while the notion that our desires possess a real power and efficacy, which are exerted over the will, maintains its hold upon the mind, the great doctrine of liberty can never be seen in the brightness of its full-orbed glory; and that it must, at times, suffer a total eclipse. The liberty which we really possess, then, does not consist in an indifference of the desires and affections, but in that of the will itself. We are perfectly free, says the libertarian, in regard to all those things about which our feelings are in a state of indifference; such as touching one of two spots, or choosing one of two objects that are perfectly alike. To this the necessitarian replies, what does it signify that a man has a perfect liberty in regard to the choice of "one of two peppercorns?" Are not such things perfectly insignificant, and unworthy "the grave attention of the philosopher," while treating of the great questions of moral good and evil? There is some truth in this reply, and some injustice. It truly signifies nothing, that we are at perfect liberty to choose between two pepper-corns, if we are not so to choose between good and evil, life and death. But in making this attack upon the position of his opponent, when viewed as designed to serve the cause of free-agency, the necessitarian overlooks its bearing upon his own scheme. He contends, that the mind cannot act unless it is made to act by some extraneous influence: this is a universal proposition, extending to all our mental acts; and hence, if it can be shown that, in a single instance, the mind can and does put forth a volition, without being made to do so, his doctrine is subverted from its foundations. If this can be shown, by a reference to the case of "two pepper-corns," it may be made to serve an important purpose in philosophy, how much soever it may be despised by the philosopher. If we keep the distinction between the will and the sensibility in mind, it will throw much light on what has been written in regard to the subject of indifference. If you offer a guinea and a penny to a man's choice, asks President Day, which will he choose? Will the one exert as great an influence over him as the other? President Day may assert, if he pleases, that the guinea will exert the greater influence over his feelings; but this does not destroy the equilibrium of the will. The feelings and the will are different. By the one we feel, by the other we act; by the one we _suffer_, by the other we _do_. Why, then, will the man be certain to choose the guinea, all other things being equal? Not because its influence acts upon the will, either directly or indirectly through the passions, and compels him to choose it, but because he has a purpose to accomplish; and, as a rational being, he sees that the guinea will answer his purpose better than the penny. He is not made to act, therefore, by a blind impulse; he acts freely in the light of reason. The philosophy of the necessitarian overlooks the slight circumstance, that the will of man is not a ball to be set a-going by external impulse; but that man is a rational being, made in the image of his Maker, and can act as a designing cause. Hence, when we affirm that the will of man acts without being made to do so by the action of any thing upon _the will itself_, he imagines that we dethrone the Almighty, and "place chance upon the throne of the moral universe." Day on the Will, p. 195. But I would remind him, once for all, that the act of a free designing cause, no less than that of a necessitated act, proceeding from an efficient cause, (if such a thing can be conceived,) is utterly inconsistent with the idea of accident. Choice in its very nature is opposed to chance. The doctrine of the indifference of the will has been subjected to another mode of attack. This doctrine implies that we have a power to choose one thing or another; or, as it is sometimes called, a power of choice to the contrary. For, if the will is not controlled by any extraneous influence, it is evident that we may choose a thing, or let it alone--that we may put forth a volition, or refuse to put it forth. This power, which results from the idea of indifference as just explained, is regarded as in the highest degree absurd; and a torrent of impetuous questions is poured forth to sweep it away. "When Satan, as a roaring lion," asks President Day, "goeth about, seeking whom he may devour, is he equally inclined to promote the salvation of mankind?" &c. &c. &c. Now, I freely admit, that when Satan is inclined to do evil, and is actually doing it, he is not inclined to the contrary. I freely admit that a thing is not different from itself; and the learned author is welcome to all such triumphant positions. In the same easy way, President Edwards, as he imagines, demolishes the doctrine of indifference. He supposes that, according to this doctrine, the will does not choose when it does choose; and, having supposed this, he proceeds to demolish it, as if he were contending with a thousand adversaries; and yet, I will venture to affirm, that no man in his senses ever maintained such a position. The most contemptible advocate of free-agency that ever lived, has maintained nothing so absurd as that the mind ever chooses without choosing. This is the light in which the doctrine of indifference is frequently represented by Edwards, but it is a gross misrepresentation. "The question is," says Edwards, "whether ever the soul of man puts forth an act of will, while it yet remains in a state of liberty, viz: as implying a state of indifference; or whether the soul ever exerts an act of preference, while at the very time _the will_ is in a perfect equilibrium, not inclining one way more than another," p. 72. If this be the point in dispute, he may well add, that "the very putting of the question is sufficient to show the absurdity of the affirmative answer;" and he might have added, the utter futility of the negative reply. "How ridiculous," he continues, "for any body to insist that the soul chooses one thing before another, when, at the very same instant, it is perfectly indifferent with respect to each! This is the same thing as to say, we shall prefer one thing to another, at the very same time that it has no preference. Choice and preference can no more be in a state of indifference than motion can be in a state of rest," &c. p. 72. And he repeats it over and over again, that this is to put "the soul in a state of choice, and in a state of equilibrium at the same time;" "choosing one way, while it remains in a state of perfect indifference, and has no choice of one way more than the other;" p. 74. "To suppose the will to act at all in a state of indifference, is to assert that the mind chooses without choosing," p. 64; and so in various other places. Now, if the doctrine of the indifference of the will, as commonly understood, amounts to this, that the will does not choose when it chooses, then Edwards was certainly right in opposing it; but how could he have expected to correct such incorrigible blockheads as the authors of such a doctrine must have been, by the force of logic? Edwards has not always, though frequently, mis-stated the doctrine of his adversaries. The liberty of indifference, says he, in one place, consists in this, "that the will, in choosing, is subject to _no prevailing_ influence," p. 64. Now this is a fair statement of the doctrine in question. Why did not Edwards, then, combat this idea? Why transform it into the monstrous absurdity, that "the will chooses without choosing," or exerts an act of choice at the same time that it exerts no act of choice; and then proceed to demolish it? Was it because he did not wish to march up, fairly and squarely, in the face of the enemy, and contend with them in their strongholds and fastnesses? By no means. There never was a more honest reasoner than Edwards. But his psychology is false; and hence, he has not only misrepresented the doctrine of his opponents, but also his own. He confounds the sensitive part of our nature with the will, expressly in his definitions, though he frequently distinguishes them in his arguments. This is the reason why he sometimes asserts, that the choice of the mind is always as the sense of the most agreeable; and, at others, throws this fundamental doctrine into the form, as we have seen in our third section, that the choice of the mind is always as the choice of the mind; and holds that to deny it is a plain contradiction. By reason of the same confusion of things, the doctrine of his opponents, that "the will, in choosing, is subject to no prevailing influence," seemed to him to mean that the will, in choosing, does not choose. In both cases, he confounds the most agreeable impression upon the sensibility with the choice of the mind; and thus misrepresents both his own doctrine, and that of his opponents, by reducing the one to an insignificant truism, and the other to a glaring absurdity. President Day should have avoided the error of Edwards, in thus misconceiving the doctrine of his opponents; for he expressly distinguishes the sensibility from the will. But there is this difference between Edwards and Day; the first expressly confounds these two parts of our nature, and then proceeds to reason, in many cases, as if they were distinct; while the last most explicitly distinguishes them, and then frequently proceeds to reason as if they were one and the same. It is in this way that he also gravely teaches that the mind chooses when it chooses; and makes his adversaries assert that the mind chooses without choosing, or that the will is inclined without being inclined. Start from whatever point he will, the necessitarian never feels so strong, as when he finds himself securely intrenched in the truism, that a thing is always as itself; there manfully contending against those who assert that a thing is different from itself. The doctrine of the liberty of indifference, as usually held, is this--that the will is not determined by any prevailing influence. This is not a perfect liberty, it is true, wherever the will is partially influenced by an extraneous cause; but it is not equivalent to the gross absurdity of the position, that the will chooses without choosing. Nor can we possibly reduce it to this form, unless we forget that the authors of it did not confound that which is supposed to exert the influence over the will, with the act of the will itself. They contended for a partial indifference of the will only; and, consequently, they could only contend for a partial, and not a perfect liberty. On the contrary, I think we should contend for a perfect indifference, not in regard to feeling, but in regard to the will. Standing on this high ground, we need not retire from the broad and open field, in order to set up the empire of a perfect liberty in a dark corner, extending to a few insignificant things only: we may establish it over the whole range of human activity, bringing out into a clear and full light, the great fact of man's perfect accountability, for all his _actions_, under all the circumstances of his life. SECTION X. OF ACTION AND PASSION. THERE are no two things in nature which are more perfectly distinct than action and passion; the one necessarily excludes the other. Thus, if an effect is produced in any thing, by the action or influence of something else, then is the thing in which the effect is produced wholly passive in regard to it. The effect itself is called passion or passiveness. It is not an act of that in which it is produced; it is an effect resulting wholly from that which produces it. To say that a thing acts then, is to say that it is not passive; or, in other words, that its act is not produced by the action or influence of any thing else. To suppose that an act is so produced, is to suppose that it is not an act; the object in which it is said to be caused being wholly passive in regard to it. If this statement be correct, it follows that an act of the mind cannot be a produced effect; that the ideas of action and passion, of cause and effect, are opposite and contrary the one to the other; and hence, it is absurd to assert that the mind may be caused to act, or that a volition can be produced by any thing acting upon the mind. This is a self-evident truth. The younger Edwards calls for proof of it; but the only evidence there is in the case, is that which arises from the nature of the things themselves, as they must appear to every mind which will bestow suitable reflection on the subject. But as he held the affirmative, maintaining that the mind is caused to act, it would have been well for him to have furnished proof himself, before he called for it from the opposite party. It may be said, that if it were self-evident that the mind cannot be caused to act, it would appear so to all men, and there could be no doubt on the subject; that a truth or proposition cannot be said to be self-evident, unless it carries irresistible conviction to every mind to which it is proposed. But this does not follow. Previous to the time of Galileo, it was universally believed by mankind, that if a body were set in motion, it would run down of itself; though it should meet with no resistance whatever in its progress. But that great philosopher, by reflecting on the nature of matter, very clearly saw, that if a body were put in motion, and met with no resistance, it would continue to move on in a right line forever. As matter is inert, so he saw that it could not put itself in motion; and if put in motion by the action of any thing upon it, he perceived with equal clearness that it could not check itself in its career. He perceived that it is just as impossible for passive, inert matter, to change its state from motion to rest, as it is for it to change its state from rest to motion. Thus, by simply reflecting upon the nature of matter, as that which cannot act, the mind of Galileo recognized it as a self-evident and unquestionable truth, that if a body be put in motion, and there is nothing to impede its career, it will move on in a right line forever. This great law of motion, first recognized by Galileo, and afterwards adopted by all other philosophers, is called the law of inertia; because its truth necessarily results from the fact, that matter is essentially inert, or cannot act. I am aware it has been contended by Mr. Whewell, in his Bridgewater Treatise, that the law of motion in question is not a necessary or self-evident truth; and the reason he assigns is, that if it were a truth of this nature, it would have been recognized and believed by all men before the time of Galileo. But this reason is not good. For if it did not appear self-evident to those philosophers who lived before Galileo, it was because they did not bestow sufficient reflection upon the subject, and not because it was not a self-evident truth. All men had seen bodies moving only in a resisting medium, amid counteracting influences; and having always seen them run down in such a medium, they very naturally concluded that a body put in motion would run down of itself. Yielding to an illusion of the senses, instead of rising above it by a sustained effort of reason and meditation, they supposed that the motion of a body would spend itself in the course of time, and so come to an end without any cause of its extinction. This is the reason why they did not see, what must have appeared to be a self-evident truth, if they had bestowed sufficient reflection upon the subject, instead of being swayed by an illusion of the senses. Mr. Whewell admits the law in question to be a truth; he only denies that it is a necessary or self-evident truth. Now, if it be not a necessary truth, I should like to know how he has ascertained it to be a truth at all. Has any man ever seen a body put in motion, and continue to move on in a right line forever? Has any man ever ascertained the truth of this law by observation and experiment? It is evident, that if it be true at all, it must be a necessary truth. Who that is capable of rising above the associations of sense, so as to view things as they are in themselves, can meditate upon this subject, without perceiving that the law of _inertia_ is a self-evident truth, necessarily arising out of the very nature of matter? It does not follow, then, that a truth is not "self-evident", because it does not appear so to all men; for some may be blinded to the truth by an illusion of the senses. This is the case, with the necessitarian. He has always seen the motion of body produced by the action of something else; and hence, confounding the activity of mind with the motion of body, he concludes that volition is produced by the prior action of something else. All that he needs in order to see the impossibility of such a thing, is severe and sustained meditation. But how can we expect this from him? Is he not a great reasoner, rather than a great thinker? Does he not display his skill in drawing logical conclusions from the illusions of the senses, and assumptions founded thereon; rather than in laying his foundations and his premises aright, in the immutable depths of meditation and consciousness? We may appeal to his _reason_, and he will fall to _reasoning_. We may ask for _meditation_, and he will give us _logic_. Indeed, he wants that severe and scrutinizing observation which pierces through all the illusions and associations of the senses, rising to a contemplation of things as they are in themselves; which is one of the best attributes of the great thinker. To show that he does this, I shall begin with President Day. No other necessitarian has made so formal and elaborate an attempt to prove, that the mind may be caused to act. He undertakes to answer the objection which has been urged against the scheme of moral necessity, that it confounds action and passion. It is alleged, that a volition cannot be produced or caused by the action or influence of any thing. To this President Day replies, "these are terms of very convenient ambiguity, with which it is easy to construct a plausible but fallacious argument. The word passive is sometimes used to signify that which is _inactive_. With this meaning, it must, of course, be the opposite of every thing which is active. To say that that which is in _this_ sense passive, is at the same time active, is to assert that that which is active is not active. But this is not the only signification of the term passive in common use. It is very frequently used to express the relation of an effect to its cause," p. 159. Now, here is the distinction, but is it not without a difference? If an effect is produced, is it not passive in relation to its cause? This is not denied. Is it active then in relation to any thing? President Day says it is. But is this so? Is not an effect, which is wholly produced in one thing by the action or influence of another, wholly passive? Is not the thing which, according to the supposition, is wholly passive to the influence acting upon it, wholly passive? In other words; is it made to act? Does it not merely suffer? If it is endued with an active nature, and really puts forth an act, is not this act clearly different from the passive impression made upon it? One would certainly suppose so, but for the logic of the necessitarian. Let us examine this logic. "The term passive," says President Day, "is sometimes employed to express the relation of an effect to its cause. In this sense, it is so far from being inconsistent with activity, that activity may be the very effect which is produced. A thing may be _caused_ to be active. A cannon shot is said to be passive, with respect to the charge of powder which impels it. But is there no activity given to the ball? Is not the whirlwind active, when it tears up the forest?" &c. &c., p. 160. Now, all these illustrations are brought to show that the mind may be caused to act;--that it may be passive in relation to the cause of its volition, and active in relation to the effect of its volition. A more striking instance could not be adduced to prove the correctness of the assertion already made, that the necessitarian confounds the motion of body with the action of mind. "A thing may be caused to act," says President Day. But how does he show this? By showing that a thing may be caused to move! "Is no _activity_ given to the ball? Is not the whirlwind _active_, when it tears up the forest?" And so he goes on, leaving the light of reason and of consciousness; now rushing into the darkness of the whirlwind; now riding "on the mountain wave;" and now plunging into the depths of "volcanic lava;"--all the time in quest of light respecting the phenomena of mind! We could have wished him to stop awhile, in the impetuous current of rhetoric, and inform us, whether he really considers, "the motion of a ball" as the same thing with the volition of the mind. If he does, then he may suppose that his illustrations are to the purpose, how great soever may be his mistake; but if he supposes there is a real difference between them, how can he ever pretend to show that mind may be caused to act, by showing that body may be caused to move? I freely admit, that body may be caused to move. Body is perfectly passive in motion; and hence, its motion may be caused. But the mind is not passive in volition; and hence the difference in the two cases. It is an error, as I have already said, pervading the views of the necessitarian, that he confounds the action of mind with the motion of body. Even Mr. Locke, who, in some places, has recognized the essential difference between them, has frequently confounded them in his reasonings and illustrations. Hence, it becomes necessary to bear this distinction always in mind, in the examination of their writings. It should be rendered perfectly clear to our minds by meditation; and never permitted to grow dim through forgetfulness. This is indispensably necessary to shut out the illusions of the senses, in order that we may have a clear and unclouded view of the phenomena of nature. Is the motion of body, then, one and the same thing with the action of mind? They are frequently called by the same name. The motion of mind, and the action of body, are very common modes of expression. Body is said to act, when it only moves; and mind is said to move, when it really acts. These metaphors and supposed analogies are intimately and inseparably interwoven into the very frame-work of our language; and hence the necessity of guarding against them in our conceptions. They are almost as subtle as the great adversary of truth; and therefore we should be constantly on the watch, lest we should be deceived or misled by them. Let us look, then, at these things just as they are in themselves. When a body moves, it simply passes from one place to another; and when the mind acts or chooses, it simply prefers one thing to another. Here, there is no real identity or sameness of nature. The body _suffers_ a change; the mind itself _acts_. The one is pure passim or passiveness; the other is pure action--the very opposite of passivity. The one is a _suffering_, and the other is a _doing_. There are no two things in the whole range of nature, which are more perfectly and essentially distinct; and he who confounds them in his reasonings, as philosophers have so often done, can never arrive at a clear perception of the truth. President Day, if he intended any thing to the purpose, undertook to show that an act may be produced in mind, in that which is active, by the action or influence of something else; and what has he shown? Why, that body may be caused to move! Let a case be produced in which the mind, the active soul of man, is made to act: let a case be produced in which a volition is caused to exist in the soul of man, by the action or influence of any thing whatever, and it will be something to the purpose: but what does it signify to tell us, that a body, that that which is wholly and essentially passive in its nature, may be made to move, or _suffer_ a change of place? A more palpable sophism was never perpetrated; and that such a mind should have recourse to such an argument, only betrays the miserable weakness, and the forlorn hopelessness, of the cause in which it is enlisted. Indeed, the learned president seems, after all, to be at least half conscious that the analogies of matter can throw no light on the phenomena of mind; and that what he has so eloquently said, amounts to just nothing at all. For he says, "It may be objected, that these are all examples of _inanimate_ objects; and that they have no proper application to mental activity," p. 161. Yes, truly, this is the very objection which we should urge against all the fine illustrations of President Day; and it is a full and complete answer to them. It is the great principle of the inductive study of mind, that its phenomena can be understood only in so far as we have observed them in the pure light of consciousness, and no farther; they should never be viewed through the darkening and confounding analogies of matter. No one, that I know of, has ever denied that a body may be caused to move; the only point on which we desire to be enlightened is, whether the mind may be caused to act. To this point President Day next directly comes. Leaving "inanimate objects," he says, "take the case of deep and earnest thinking. Is there no activity in this? And is it without a cause? When reading the orations of Demosthenes, or the demonstrations of Newton, are our minds wholly inactive; or if they think intensely, have our thoughts no dependence on the book before us?" p. 161. Truly, there is activity in this, in our "deep and earnest thinking"; but what is the cause of this activity? Does the book before us _cause_ us to think? This is the point at which the argument of the author is driving, and to which it should come, if it would be to the purpose, and yet he does not seem to like to speak it out right manfully; and hence, instead of saying that the book causes us to think, he chooses to say that our thoughts have a _dependence_ on the book. It is true, that no man can read a book, unless he has it to read; and, consequently, his thoughts in reading the book are absolutely dependent on the possession of it. But still, the possession of a book is the _condition_, and not the _cause_, of his reading it. The cause of a thing, and the indispensable _condition_ of it, are perfectly distinct from each other; and the argument of Day, in confounding them, has presented us with another sophism. The ideas of a condition and of a cause, though so different in themselves, are always blended together by necessitarians; and hence the confusion into which they run. Edwards has united them, as we have seen, under the term cause; and then employed this term to signify the one or the other at his pleasure. The word "dependence," is the favourite of President Day; and he uses it with fully as much vagueness and vacillation of meaning, as Edwards does the term cause. He has undertaken to show us, that the mind may be _caused_ to act; and he has shown us, that a particular class of thoughts cannot come to existence, except upon a particular condition! This is not to reason; but to slip and to slide from one meaning of an ambiguous word to another. When it is said that the mind cannot be caused to act, President Day must have known in what sense the term cause is used in this proposition. He must have known, that no one meant to assert, that there are no _conditions_ or _antecedents_, on which the action of the mind depends. There is not an advocate of free-agency in the universe, who will contend, that the mind can choose a thing, unless there is a thing to be chosen; or, to take his own illustration, can read a book, unless there is a book to be read. The question is not, whether there are _conditions_, without the existence of which the mind cannot act; this no one denies; but whether there is, or can be, a real and efficient cause of the mind's action. The point in dispute, relates not to mere fact of dependence, but to the _nature_ of that dependence. The question is, _can the mind be efficiently caused to act?_ This being the question, what does it signify to tell us, that it cannot read a book, unless it has a book to read? Or what does it signify to tell us, that a body may be caused to move? These are mere irrelevancies; they fall short of the point in dispute; and they only seem to reach it by means of a very "convenient ambiguity" of words. But still it may be said, that although a body is passive in motion, it may act upon other bodies, and thereby communicate motion to them. This is the ground taken by President Day. "The very same thing," says he, "may be both cause and effect. The mountain wave, which is the effect of the wind, may be the cause which buries the ship in the ocean," p. 160. I am aware, that one body is frequently said to _act_ upon another; but this word action, as President Day has well said, is a term "of very convenient ambiguity, with which it is easy to construct a plausible but fallacious argument," p. 159. The only cause in every case of motion, is that _force_, whatever it may be, which acts upon the body moved, and puts it in motion. All the rest is pure passion or passiveness. The motion of the body is not action; it is the most pure passion of which the mind can form a conception. If a body in action is said to act upon another, this is but a metaphor; there is no real action in the case. Indeed, if a body be put in motion, and meets with no resistance, it will move on in a right line forever--and why? just because of its _inertia_, of its inherent destitution of a power to act. As a mathematician, President Day certainly knew all this; but he seems to have forgotten it all, in his eagerness to support the cause of moral necessity. He saw that motion is frequently called action; he saw that one body is sometimes said to act upon another; and this was sufficient for his purpose. He did not reflect upon the natures of motion and of volition, as they are in themselves; he views them through the medium of an ambiguous phraseology. Nor did he reflect, that if motion is communicated from one body to another, this is not because one body really acts upon another, but because it is impossible for two bodies to occupy the same place at one and the same time. He did not reflect, that if motion is communicated from one body to another, this does not arise from the activity, but from the impenetrability of matter. In short, he did not reflect, that there is no state or phenomena of matter, whatever may be its name, that at all resembles the state of mind which we call action or volition; or else he would have seen, that all his illustrations drawn from material objects can throw no light on the point in controversy. We find the same confusion of things in the works of the Edwardses. We do not at all confound action and passion, President Edwards contends, by supposing that acts of the soul are effects, wherein the soul is the object of something acting upon and influencing it, p. 203. And again, "It is no more a contradiction to suppose that action may be the effect of some other cause beside the agent, or being that acts, than to suppose that life may be the effect of some other cause beside the being that lives," p. 203. The younger Edwards also asserts, that "to say that an agent that is acted upon cannot act, is as groundless, as to say, that a body acted upon cannot move," p. 131. We might adduce many similar passages; but these are sufficient. What do they prove? If they are any thing to the purpose, they are only so by confounding motion with volition, passion with action. No one would pretend to deny, that the mind may be, and is, caused to exist, or that the agent may be caused to live. In regard to our being and living we are perfectly passive; and hence we admit that we may be caused to exist and to live. _Living_ and _being_ are not _acting_. We are not passive in regard to volition; this is an act of the mind itself. The above assertions only overlook the slight circumstance that _being_ and _doing_ are two different things; that motion is not volition, that passion is not action. This strange confusion of things is very common in the writings of the Edwardses, as well as in those of all other necessitarians. Edwards held volition to be a produced effect. This identifies a passive impression made upon the mind, with an act of the mind itself. In order to escape this difficulty, Edwards was bound to show that action and passion are not opposite in their natures. "Action, when properly set in opposition to passion or passiveness," says he, "is no real existence; it is not the same with _an action_, but is a mere relation." And again, "Action and passion are not two contrary natures;" when placed in opposition they are only contrary relations. The same ground is taken by President Day. "Are not cause and effect," says he, "opposite in their natures? They are opposite relations, but not always opposite things." They contend, that an object may be passive in relation to one thing, and active in relation to another; that a volition may be passive in relation to its producing cause, and yet active in relation to its produced effect. Now, this is not true. An act is opposite in its nature to a passive impression made upon the mind. This every man may clearly see by suitable reflection, if he will not blind himself to the truth, as the necessitarian always does, by false analogies drawn from the world of matter, and the phenomena of motion. We have seen how President Day has attempted to show, that an object may be passive in relation to one thing, and yet active in relation to another; and that in all these attempts he has confounded the motion of body with the action or choice of mind. We have seen that all the illustrations adduced to throw light on this subject are fallacious. Let this subject be studied in the light of consciousness, not through the darkening and confounding medium of false analogies, and we may safely anticipate a verdict in our favour. For who that will closely and steadily reflect upon _an action_ of the mind, does not perceive that it is different, in nature and in kind, from a passive impression made upon the mind from without? I do not say action, which President Edwards seems to think does not signify any thing positive, such as _an action_, when it is set in opposition to passion; but I say that _an action_ itself is opposite in its nature to passion, to a produced effect. President Edwards cannot escape the absurdity of his doctrine by alleging, that when action and passion are set in opposition, they do not signify opposite natures, but only opposite relations. For he has confounded _an act_ of the mind with a _passive impression_ made thereon; and these things are opposite in their natures, whether he is pleased to say that action and passion are opposite _natures_ or not. This position may be easily established. "I humbly conceive," says he, "that the affections of the soul are not properly distinguished from the will, as though they were two faculties in the soul." . . . . "The affections are no other than the more vigorous and sensible exercises of the inclination and will of the soul." These passages are referred to by President Day to prove, that Edwards regarded our "emotions or affections as acts of the will," p. 39. Having confounded the will and the sensibility, it became exceedingly easy for Edwards to show that a volition may be produced or caused: all that he had to do was to show, that an emotion may be produced, which is the same thing with an act of the will or a volition. It is upon this confusion of things, that his whole system rests; for if the sensibility is different from the will, as most persons, at the present day, will admit it is; then to excite an emotion, or to make a passive impression upon the sensibility, is very different from producing a volition. Edwards has taken great pains with the superstructure of his system, while he has left its foundations without support. He has not shown, nor can any man show, that the sensibility and the will are one and the same faculty of the soul. He assumes that an emotion is an act of the will, and then proceeds to build upon it, and to argue from it, as if it were a clear and unquestionable truth. Thus, he repeatedly says, that whatever pleases us most, or excites the most agreeable sensation, is that which "operates to induce a volition;" and to say otherwise, is to assert that that which pleases us most, does not please us most. Such assertions, (and I have already had occasion to adduce many such,) clearly identify a sense of the most agreeable, or the most pleasing emotion, with an act of the will. His definition, as we have already seen, laid the foundation for this, and his arguments are based upon it. The passive impression, or the sensation produced, is, according to Edwards, a volition! No wonder, then, that he could conceive of an action of the mind _as being produced_. The wonder is, how he could conceive of it _as being an action at all_. Let us suppose, now, that a feeling or an emotion is produced by an object in view of the mind. It will follow, that the mind is passive in feeling, or in experiencing emotion. We are conscious of such feeling or emotion; and hence we infer, that we are susceptible of feeling or emotion. This susceptibility we call the sensibility, the heart, the affections, &c. But there is another phenomenon of our nature, which is perfectly distinct in nature and in kind from an emotion or a feeling. We are conscious of a volition or choice; and hence we infer that we have a power of acting, or putting forth volitions. This power we call the will. Now, the phenomena exhibited by these two faculties of the soul, the sensibility and the will, are entirely different from each other; and there is not the least shadow of evidence going to show that the faculties themselves are one and the same. On the contrary, we are compelled by a fundamental law of belief, to regard the susceptibility of our nature, by which we feel, as different from that power of the soul, by which we act or put forth volitions. The only reason we have for saying that matter is different from mind, is that its manifestations or phenomena are different; and we have a similar reason for asserting, that the emotive part of our nature, or the sensibility, is distinct from the will. And yet, in the face of all this, President Edwards has expressly denied that there is any difference between these two faculties of the soul. It is in this confusion of things, in this false psychology, that he has laid the foundation of his system. If President Edwards be right, it is no wonder that the younger Edwards should so often assert, that it is no more absurd to say, that volition may be caused, than it is to say, that feeling or emotion may be caused. For, if the doctrine in question be true, a volition is an emotion or feeling; and to produce the one is to produce the other. How short and easy has the path of the necessitarian been made, by a convenient definition! If we only bear the distinction between the sensibility and the will in mind, it will be exceedingly easy to see through the cloudy sophistications of the necessitarian. "How does it appear to be a _fact_," asks President Day, "that the will cannot act when it is acted upon?" I reply that the _will_ is not acted upon at all; that passive impressions are made upon the sensibility, and not upon the will. This is a _fact_ which the necessitarian always overlooks. Again; the same object may be both passive and active; passive with respect to one thing, and active with respect to another. Thus, says President Day, "The axe is passive, with respect to the hand which moves it; but active, with respect to the object which it strikes. The cricket club is passive in _receiving_ motion from the hand of the player; it is active in _communicating_ motion to the ball." The fallacy of all such illustrations, in confounding motion and action, I have already noticed, and I intend to say nothing more in relation to this point. But there is another less palpable fallacy in them. How are such illustrations intended to be applied to the phenomena of volition? Is it meant, that volition itself is passive in relation to one thing, and active in relation to another? If so, I reply it is absurd to affirm, that volition, or an act, is passive in relation to any thing? Is it meant, that not volition itself, but the will, is passive to that which acts upon it, while it is active in relation to its effect? If so, I contend that the will is not acted upon at all; that the passive impression is made upon the sensibility, and not upon the will. Is it supposed, that it is neither the volition nor the will, which is both active and passive at the same time; but that it is the mind? This may be very true. The mind may be passive, if you please, in relation to that which acts upon its sensibility, while it is active in volition; but how does this prove the doctrine, that _an act_ may be produced by something else acting upon the will? How does this show, that action and passion are not confounded, in supposing that an act is caused? The passive impression, the state of the sensibility is produced but this is not _a volition_. The passive impression exists in the sensibility; the volition exists in the will. The first is a produced effect; the last is an act of the mind. And the only way in which this act of the mind itself has been linked with that which acts upon the mind, as an effect is linked with its cause, has been by confounding the _sensibility_ with the _will_; and the light of this distinction is no sooner held up, than we see that a very important link is wanting in the chain of the necessitarian's logic. Let this light be carried around through all the dark corners of his system, and through all its dark labyrinths of words; and many a lurking sophism will be detected and brought out from its unsuspected hiding place. When it is said, that the same thing may be active and passive, this remark should be understood with reference to the mind itself. The language of the necessitarian, I am aware, sometimes points to the volition itself, and sometimes to the will; but we should always understand him as referring to the mind. He may not have so understood himself; but he must be so understood. For it is not the will that acts; it is the mind. This is conceded by the necessitarian. Hence, when he says, that the same thing may be both active and passive, he must be understood as applying this proposition to the mind itself; and not to the will or to volition. It is the mind that acts; and hence the mind must be also passive; or we cannot say that _the same thing_ may be both active and passive. The mind then, it may be said, is both active and passive at the same time. But it is passive in regard to its emotions and feelings; and hence, if you please, these may be produced. It is active in regard to its volitions, or rather in its volitions; and hence these cannot be produced by the action of any thing upon the mind. To show that they can, the necessitarian, as we have seen, has confounded a passive impression with an active volition. If these be distinct, as they most clearly are, the necessitarian can make his point good, only by showing that the passive impression made upon the mind, is connected with the volition of the mind, as a producing cause is connected with its effect. But this he has not shown; and hence his whole system rests upon gratuitous and unfounded assumptions. I say his whole system; for if the mind cannot be caused to act, if it is absurd to speak of a produced action, it is not true, that an action or volition does or can result from the necessitating action, or influence of motives. SECTION XI. OF THE ARGUMENT FROM THE FOREKNOWLEDGE OF GOD. THE argument from the foreknowledge of God, is one on which the necessitarian relies with great confidence. Nor is this at all surprising; since to so many minds, even among distinguished philosophers, the prescience of Deity and the free-agency of man have appeared to be irreconcilable. Thus, says Mr. Stewart, "I have mentioned the attempt of Clarke and others to show that no valid argument against the scheme of free-will can be deduced from the prescience of God, even supposing _that_ to extend to all the actions of voluntary beings. On this point I must decline offering any opinion of my own, because I conceive it as placed far beyond the reach of our faculties." Dr. Campbell also says, "To reconcile the divine prescience with the freedom, and even contingency, and consequently with the good or ill desert of human actions, is what I have never yet seen achieved by any, and indeed despair of seeing." And Mr. Locke declares, "I cannot make freedom in man consistent with omnipotence and omniscience in God, though I am as fully persuaded of both as of any truth I most firmly assent to; and therefore I have long since given off the consideration of that subject, resolving all into this short conclusion, that if it is possible for God to make a free-agent, then man is free, though I see not the way of it." Sentiments like these, which are so often met with in the writings of eminent philosophers, have repeatedly led me to reconsider the conclusion at which I have arrived on this subject; but I have been able to discover no reason why it should be abandoned. Indeed, if authority were a sufficient reason why the great difficulty in question should be regarded as incapable of being solved, I should abandon it in despair, and leave the necessitarian to make the most of his argument; but it has only induced me to proceed with the greater caution; and this, instead of having shaken my convictions, has settled them with the greater firmness and clearness in my mind. Whether I am in the right, or whether I labour under a hallucination, satisfactory only to myself, and perplexing to all others, I must submit to the candid consideration of the reader. Why should it be thought impossible to reconcile the free-agency of man with the foreknowledge of God? No one pretends that there is any disagreement between the things themselves, as they really exist; if there is any discrepancy in the case, it must exist only between our ideas of foreknowledge and free-agency. Indeed, we cannot think of the things themselves, or compare them, except by means of the ideas we have formed of then; and if our ideas of them are really irreconcilable, it is because they have not been correctly formed, and do not correspond with the things themselves. What shall we do then? Shall we set to work to reform our ideas? Shall we explain away the free-agency of man, or deny the foreknowledge of God? No. We may retain both. Edwards contends, that volitions are brought to pass by the influence of motives, and that it is impossible in any case, that a volition should depart from the influence of the strongest motive. This is the great doctrine of moral necessity, which it is the object of President Edwards to establish. Now, if his celebrated argument, or "demonstration," as it is called, proves this point, then it is to be held as true and valid; but if it only proves some other thing which is called by the name of necessity, it is not to the purpose. And if it can be shown, that his argument does not prove any thing at all in relation to the causation of choice, it will appear that it has no relevancy to the point at issue. The foreknowledge of God, I admit, infers the necessity of all human actions, in one sense of the word; but not that _kind_ of necessity for which any necessitarian pleads, or against which _any_ libertarian is at all concerned to contend. The fallacy of the argument in question is, that it shows all human actions to be necessary in a sense in which it is not opposed to any scheme of liberty whatever, and assumes them to be necessary in another and quite different sense; and thus the great doctrine of freewill, otherwise so clear and unquestionable, is overshadowed and obscured by an imperfect and ambiguous phraseology, rather than by the inherent difficulties of the subject. This is the position which I shall endeavour to establish. The first argument of President Edwards is as follows. When the existence of a thing is infallibly and indissolubly connected with something else, which has already had existence, then its existence is necessary; but the future volitions of moral agents, are infallibly and indissolubly connected with the foreknowledge of God; and therefore they are necessary, p. 114-15. Now this argument is perfectly sound; the conclusion is really contained in the premise, or definition of necessity, and it is fairly deduced from it. It is as perfect as any syllogism in Euclid _but what does it prove?_ It proves that all human actions are necessary--but in what sense? Does it prove that they are necessary with a _moral necessity?_ Does it prove that they are brought to pass by the influence of moral causes? No such thing is even pretended: "I allow what Dr. Whitby says to be true," says Edwards, "that mere foreknowledge does not affect the thing known, to _make_ it more certain or future," p. 122. He admits that foreknowledge exerts "no influence on the thing known to make it necessary." He does not even pretend that there is any _moral necessity_ shown to exist by this argument; and hence his conclusion has no connexion with the great doctrine of the Inquiry, or the point in dispute. It aims at the word, but not at the thing. The infallible connexion it shows to exist, is admitted to be entirely different from the infallible connexion between moral causes and volitions; that is to say, it is admitted that it does not prove any thing to the purpose. But is the indissoluble connexion, or necessity, established by this argument, at all inconsistent with human liberty? If it is not; and if our scheme of liberty is perfectly consistent and reconcilable with it; then it infers nothing, and is nothing, that is opposed to what we hold. This question admits of an easy solution. The foreknowledge of a future event proves it to be necessary in precisely the same manner that the knowledge of a present event shows it to be necessary. This is conceded by Edwards. "All certain knowledge," says he, "whether it be foreknowledge, or after knowledge, or concomitant knowledge, proves the thing known now to be necessary, by some means or other; _or proves that it is impossible it should now be otherwise than true_," p. 121. And again, "All certain knowledge proves the necessity of the truth known; whether it be _before_, or _after_, or _at the same time_," p. 124; and so in other places. In what sense then, let us inquire, does the knowledge of a present event prove it to be necessary? It is necessary, says Edwards, because it is indissolubly connected with the knowledge of it. In other words, it could not possibly be known to exist, unless it did exist; and hence, its existence is said to be indissolubly connected with the knowledge of its existence, or, in other words, it is said to be necessary. This is all true; but is this indissoluble connexion, or necessity, at all inconsistent with the contingency of the event known? _This is the question;_ and let us not lose sight of it in a mist of words. Let it be distinctly borne in mind, and it will be easily settled. For this purpose, let us suppose, to adopt the language of President Edwards, "that nonentity is about to bring forth;" and that an event comes into being without any cause of its existence. This event then exists; it is seen, and it is known to exist. Now, even on this wild supposition, there is an infallible and indissoluble connexion between the existence of the event and the knowledge of it; and hence it is necessary, in the sense above explained. But what has this necessary connexion to do with the cause of its existence? This indissoluble connexion, this dire necessity, is perfectly consistent, as we have seen, with the supposition that the event had no cause at all of its existence. How can it conflict, then, with any scheme of free-agency that ever was dreamed of by man? If this argument proves any thing in regard to human actions, it only proves that a volition has an effect, and not that it has a cause. Indeed, it has been said, that the knowledge of an event is the effect of its existence; and the same remark has been extended to the foreknowledge of God with respect to the future volitions of human beings. This position is not denied by Edwards; he considers, in fact, that it strengthens, rather than weakens, his argument. "Because it shows the existence of the event to be so settled and firm, that _it is as if it had already been;_ inasmuch as _in effect_ it actually exists already;" and much more to the same purpose, p.122-3. "It is as strong arguing," says he, "from the effect to the cause, as from the cause to the effect." This is all true; it is as strong arguing from effect to cause, as it is from cause to effect. But do the arguments prove the same thing? Let us see. I know a thing to exist; and therefore it does exist. This is to reason from effect to cause. The conclusion is inevitable; but what does it prove? Why, it proves that the thing does exist--it proves the bare fact of existence. The indissoluble connexion, or the necessity, in this case, exists between the knowledge and the event known; and it has no relation to the question how the event came to exist. This argument, then, in regard to human volitions, only proves that they are indissolubly connected with their effects, and are necessarily implied by them; just as every cause is implied by its effects: but no libertarian in the world has ever questioned such a position. For all that such an argument proves, all the volitions of moral agents may come into existence, without having the least shadow of reason or ground of their existence. We admit that volitions are efficient causes; and that they have effects, with which they are indissolubly connected. Edwards undertook to show, that volitions are necessary, because they are infallibly and indissolubly connected with their causes; and he has shown that they are necessary, because they are infallibly and indissolubly connected with their effects! This is one branch of his great argument. There is another sense, in which the knowledge of an event, whether it be _fore_, or _after_, or _concomitant_, knowledge, proves it to be necessary. This sense is not clearly distinguished from the former by Edwards. He recognizes them both, however, although he blends them together, and frequently turns from the one to the other in the course of his argument. It is highly important, and affords no little satisfaction, to keep them clearly distinct in our minds. A thing is said to be necessary, as we have seen, because it is connected with the knowledge of it; and, if a thing does exist, or is certainly and infallibly known to exist, it may be said to be necessary, on the principle that it is impossible it should exist and not exist at one and the same time. These two things are evidently different; and, for the sake of distinctness in our language, as well as in our thoughts, I shall call the first a _logical_, and the last an _axiomatical_ necessity. A thing, then, which does exist, is said to be necessary with an _axiomatical_ necessity; because it is impossible for it not to exist while it does exist: and it is said to be necessary, with a _logical_ necessity, because it is indissolubly connected with the knowledge of it. The former kind of necessity is frequently presented in this form of expression, that if a thing does exist, it is impossible it should be otherwise than true that it does exist. In this form of expression, it is frequently resorted to by Edwards. Thus, says he, "I observed before, in explaining the nature of necessity, that in things which are past, their past existence is now _necessary;_ having already made sure of existence, _it is now impossible that it should be otherwise than true, that the thing has existed_," p. 114-15. Just so we may say in relation to things which now exist; for, having already made sure of existence, it is impossible it should be otherwise than true, that they do now exist; or, in other words, it is impossible they should not exist while they do exist. In like manner, if the future existence of any thing is foreknown, "it is impossible it should be otherwise than true," that it should exist, or come to pass: that is to say, if it will exist, it will be impossible for it not to exist at the time of its existence. Foreknowledge, I admit, infers this kind of necessity; but is this any thing to the purpose? The conclusion is the same, whether it be deduced from foreknowledge, or concomitant knowledge. Let us suppose, then, for the sake of clearness and convenience, that a thing is now known to exist. It follows from hence, by a _logical_ necessity, that it does exist; for it could not possibly be known to exist, unless it did exist. And, as it does exist, "it is impossible that it should be otherwise than true that it does exist;" or, in other words, it is impossible for it not to exist now, while it does exist. This is all there is in this part of the argument. And what does it amount to? It is a simple declaration of what no body ever denied--that if a thing exists, or is to exist, or has existed, it is impossible to conceive of it as not existing at the time of its existence. All this is perfectly true, without the least reference to the question, how it came to exist, or how it will come to exist? It is wholly irrelevant to the point at issue. It controverts no position, held by any sane man that now lives, or that ever has lived. In other words, if a thing is known to exist, certainly and infallibly, then it does exist; and if it does exist, then "it is impossible it should be otherwise than true" that it does exist; and hence its existence is said to be necessary with an _axiomatical_ necessity. But this does not prove that it is _necessarily produced_. For, supposing it to exist, its existence would be necessary in the above sense, even if it had no cause of its existence. The necessity here referred to, is a necessity _in the order of our ideas_, and not _in the course of events_. It arises from the impossibility of a thing's not existing at the time it does exist; and it has no reference whatever to the causation of any thing: it is a fundamental law of belief, and not a _causal_ necessity. These three things, an _axiomatical_, a _logical_, and a _causal_ necessity, are most strangely confounded in the argument of President Edwards. Will it be said, that in this argument, it was not the object of Edwards, to prove that there is a moral necessity in regard to our volitions; but only that they are "not without all necessity?" Suppose this to be the case, with whom has he any controversy, or to what purpose has he argued? No one has ever held that human volitions are "without all necessity," according to Edwards' use of that term; and no one can hold it. No one can deny, that there is an indissoluble connexion between the existence of a thing, and the certain and infallible knowledge of its existence; or between the effect of a thing and the thing itself; or that it is impossible for a thing not to exist while it does exist. In these senses of the word, all rational creatures are bound to acknowledge that human volitions are necessary. The most strenuous advocate of free-agency has not one word to say against them; and such being the meaning of Edwards, we must all heartily concur with him, when he says, "that there is no geometrical theorem or proposition whatever more capable of _strict demonstration_, than that God's certain prescience of the volition of moral agents is inconsistent with such a contingency of these events, _as is without all necessity_," p. 125-6. If it can be truly said, that a thing is foreknown, it follows that it will come to pass, or the proposition which affirms the future existence of it, is necessarily true. In other words, it is self-contradictory and absurd, to assert that a thing is foreknown, and yet that it may not come to pass; just as it is to assert that a thing is known to exist and yet at the same time does not exist. Hence, it is frequently alleged by Edwards, that to deny his conclusions, drawn from foreknowledge, is self-contradictory and absurd; unless we deny foreknowledge itself. To admit this, says he, and yet contend that the thing foreknown may possibly not be, is to fall into a plain contradiction, and "to suppose God's foreknowledge to be inconsistent with itself," p. 117. Is it not strange, that it did not occur to Edwards, that if to deny his position is to deny that God foreknows what he foreknows; then to affirm it, is only to affirm that he foreknows what he foreknows? Indeed, all those reasonings in which he represents the denial of his position as self-contradictory and absurd, should have convinced him that he could prove nothing to the purpose, by arguing from the foreknowledge of God, or else he must assume the very thing in dispute, by taking it for granted that it is future; or, which is the same thing in effect, that it is foreknown. For in admitting any premise, we admit, no more than is contained in it; and if we only deny what is not contained in our admission, we are not involved in a self-contradiction, or absurdity. In alleging that we have done this, therefore, in the present case;--in alleging that we contradict ourselves by admitting the foreknowledge of God, and in denying necessity, he takes it for granted that the very thing in dispute is included in that foreknowledge. In other words, if Edwards does not mean to say, that the point in dispute is included in the foreknowledge of God; then he cannot say, that we contradict ourselves by admitting that divine prescience; and if he does mean to say, that the thing which we deny is included in the foreknowledge of God, then he begs the question. It is freely conceded, that whatever God foreknows will most certainly and infallibly come to pass. He foresees all human volitions; and, therefore, they will most certainly and infallibly come to pass, in some manner or other: the bare fact of their future existence is clearly established by God's foreknowledge of them. And if all human volitions will be brought to pass, by the operation of moral causes; then this manner of their existence is foreknown to God, and will all come to pass in this way; but to take this for granted, is to beg the question. We have just as much right to suppose, that God foreknows that the volitions of moral agents are not necessitated, as the necessitarian has to suppose that He foreknows the contrary; and then it would follow that our volitions are necessarily free, or without any producing causes. If God foreknows that our actions will come to pass in the way we call freely, (and we have as much right to this supposition as our opponents have to the contrary,) then, as foreknowledge infers necessity, our actions are necessarily free. And surely, if the necessity which is inferred from foreknowledge, is predicable of freedom itself, it cannot be inconsistent with it. In other words, if the necessity of human volitions, according to the scheme of Edwards, be a fact, then it was foreknown to God that such is the fact; and, if we please, we may infer the fact from his foreknowledge, after having inferred his foreknowledge from the fact. On the other hand, if the scheme of necessity be a mere hypothesis, having no corresponding reality in the universe; then God never foreknew that it is according to such scheme that all human actions are brought to pass; unless he foreknew things to be necessitated which in reality are not necessitated. Hence, we can prove nothing by reasoning from the foreknowledge of God; except what we first assume to be true, and consequently foreknown to Him; and, if we choose to resort to this pitiful way of begging the question, we may prove our hypothesis just as well as any other. The foreknowledge of an event, as I have already said, proves nothing more nor less than _the bare certainty_ of its future existence; it decides nothing as _to the manner_ of its coming into existence. The necessitarian may ring the changes upon this subject as long as he pleases, and all he can possibly make out of it is, that if God foreknows a thing, it will certainly be, and to suppose otherwise, is a contradiction. Thus, says Edwards, "To suppose the future volitions of moral agents not to be necessary events; or, which is the same thing, events which it is not possible but that they may come to pass; and yet to suppose that God certainly foreknows them, and knows all things, is to suppose God's knowledge to be inconsistent with itself. For to say that God certainly, and without all conjecture, knows that a thing will infallibly be, which at the same time he knows to be so _contingent_ that it may possibly not be, is to suppose his knowledge inconsistent with itself; or that one thing he knows is utterly inconsistent with another thing he knows. It is the same as to say, he now knows a proposition to be of certain infallible truth, which he knows to be of contingent uncertain truth. If a future volition is so without all necessity, that nothing hinders but it may not be, then the proposition which asserts its future existence is so uncertain, that nothing hinders but that the truth of it may entirely fail. And if God knows all things, he knows this proposition to be thus uncertain; and that is inconsistent with his knowing it to be infallibly true; and so inconsistent with his knowing that it is true." p. 117. Now all this going around and around amounts to just this, that if God certainly and infallibly foreknows a thing, he certainly and infallibly foreknows it, or that if it will certainly come to pass, it will certainly come to pass. We admit that the certainty of all future events is implied in God's foreknowledge of them. Does the argument in question prove any more than the bare fact of the certainty of the events foreknown? The argument, so far as we have yet followed it, clearly does not. It merely proves the bare fact of the certainty of existence. Indeed, Edwards himself says, that "metaphysical or philosophical necessity," (and this is the necessity for which he here contends,) "is nothing different from their certainty." p. 23. And the younger Edwards frequently says, "If a proposition asserting some future event, be a real and absolute truth, there is an absolute certainty of the event; _such absolute certainty is all that is implied in the divine foreknowledge; and all the moral necessity for which we plead_." p. 160. Now, if these writers merely mean that a thing is certain, when they say it is necessary, it is to be regretted that they did not use the right word. It would have saved their works from no little confusion. But the truth is, that the moral necessity for which they contend consists sometimes in the certainty of an event, and sometimes in _the ground_ of that certainty. Volitions are said to be morally necessitory in their definition, and in their system, because they are _made certain by the influence of moral causes_. But in their arguments, and the defence of their system, _the bare absolute certainty_, without any reference to the ground of it, is frequently all that is meant by moral necessity. Thus, they build upon one idea of necessity, while they attack and defend themselves upon another idea thereof. This is our present starting point then, agreed upon by all sides, that the foreknowledge of God infers the certainty of all future realities. Now, how can we conclude from hence, that the volitions of moral agents are, not only certain, but rendered certain by the influence of moral causes? It may be said, that it is sufficient that the foreknowledge of God proves that human volitions will certainly come to pass in some way or other; for if they will certainly come to pass in any way, we know that they must have some cause of their existence; and it is just as absurd to suppose that a volition can come into being without any cause of its existence, as it is to suppose that a world can come into being of itself. If this ground should be taken, (and it certainly will be,) the reply is obvious. It would show that the divine prescience can only prove the certainty of future events while it is left to the old maxim, that every effect must have a cause, in order to make out the doctrine of moral necessity, or the point in dispute! It would show, that after all the parade made with the divine prescience, it leaves the whole argument to rest upon ground which has already been occupied by one side, and fully considered by the other! It would only show, that a great pretence of demonstration had been made from the foreknowledge of God; whereas, in fact, it proves nothing to the purpose, unless "its most impotent and lame conclusion" be helped out by something else! Another attempt is made to link the conclusion drawn from the foreknowledge of God, with the point to be established by the necessitarian. It is said, that God could not foreknow all future events, unless he views them as connected with known causes. This ground is taken by many eminent necessitarians. Thus, says Dr. John Dick, "Future events cannot be foreseen, unless they are certain; they cannot be certain, unless God have determined to bring them to pass." The same position is assumed by President Edwards, "There must be a certainty in things themselves," says he, "before they are certainly foreknown." . . . "There must be a certainty in things to be a ground of certainty of knowledge, and render things capable of being known to be certain." p. 122. Now, what is this certainty in things themselves, or in human volitions, without which they are incapable of being foreknown? The answer is obvious; for Edwards every where contends, that unless volitions are brought to pass by the _influence_ of moral causes--that unless they are necessarily produced by an "effectual power and efficacy"--they are altogether uncertain and contingent, and connected with nothing that can render them certain. Hence, he clearly maintains, that unless human volitions are necessarily brought to pass by the influence of motives, they are not certain in themselves, and hence are incapable of being foreknown. And besides, he has a laboured argument to prove, that God could not foreknow the future volitions of moral agents, unless he views them as "necessarily connected with something else that is evident." pp. 115-117. This something else is not foreknowledge itself; for it is the ground of foreknowledge, it is the necessary influence of motives, or moral causes. But we need not dwell upon this point, as this is so evidently his meaning; and if it is not, then it is nothing to the purpose. If Edwards means that a thing cannot be foreknown unless it has a sufficient ground and reason for its existence, and does not of itself come forth out of nothing, we are not at all concerned to deny his position. Every advocate of free-agency contends, that volition proceeds from the mind, acting in view of motives; and therefore is not destitute of a sufficient ground and reason of its existence. He denies that volition is necessarily brought to pass by the operation of motives. Hence, if Edwards merely means that God could not foreknow a human volition, unless he foreknew all the circumstances in view of the mind when it is to act, as well as the nature and all the circumstances of the mind from which the act is to proceed; no advocate of free-agency is at all concerned to deny his position. It may be true, or it may be false; but it establishes nothing which may not be consistently admitted by the advocates of free-agency. If he means any thing to the purpose, he must mean, that God could not foresee human volitions, unless they are necessarily connected with causes, according to his scheme of moral necessity; that is, unless they are necessarily produced by "the action or influence" of motives, or moral causes. If this is his meaning, then indeed it is something to the purpose; but what unbounded presumption is it, on the part of a poor blind worm of the dust, thus to set bounds and limits to the modes of knowledge possesssd by an infinite, all-knowing God! It is true, that "no understanding, created or uncreated, can see evidence where there is none"; but what kind of evidence that is, by which all things are rendered perfectly clear to the eye of Omniscience, it is surely not for us to determine. That all things are known to God, is freely admitted; but that they can be known, only by reason of their resulting from the necessitating influence of known causes, which are themselves necessitated, is more than any finite mind should presume to affirm. It were, indeed, to make our shallow, limited, and feeble intellects, the measure of all possible modes of knowledge. It were to make God like one of ourselves. Yet this position the necessitarian has been compelled to assume. After all his pretended demonstrations from the foreknowledge of God, his argument can reach the point in dispute, only by means of this tremendous flight of presumption. Let the necessitarian show, that God cannot foresee future events, unless he "have determined to bring them to pass," or unless they are brought to pass by a chain of producing causes, ultimately connected with his own will; and he will prove something to the purpose. But let him not talk so boastfully about demonstrations, while there is this exceedingly weak link in the chain of his argument. If God were so like one of ourselves, that he could not foresee future volitions, unless they are brought to pass by the operation of known causes; then, I admit, that his foreknowledge would infer the moral necessity for which Edwards contends, provided he really possesses that knowledge; but if he were so imperfect a being, I should be compelled to believe, that there are some things which he could not foreknow. This assumption comes with a peculiarly ill grace from the necessitarian. He should be the last man to contend, that God cannot foresee future events unless they are involved in known producing causes; just as all that we know of the future is ascertained by reasoning from known causes to effects. For he contends that with God, "there is no time"; but that to His view all things are seen as if they were present. His knowledge is without succession, and there is no before nor after with him; all things are intimately present to his mind from all eternity. Such is the doctrine of both the Edwardses; and Dr. Dick believes, that "God sees all things at a glance." Now, present things are not known to exist, because they are implied by known causes, but because they are present and seen. And hence, if God sees all things as present, there is not the shadow of a foundation whereon to rest the proof of "moral necessity" from his foreknowledge. It is all taken away by their own doctrine, and their argument is left without the least support from it. Indeed, there is no need of lugging the foreknowledge of God into the present controversy, except it be to deceive the mind. For all future events will certainly and infallibly come to pass, whether they are foreknown or not; and foreknowledge cannot make the matter any more certain than it is without it. We may say that God foreknows all things, and we may mix this up with all possible propositions; but this will never help the conclusion, that "all future things will certainly and infallibly come to pass." If God should cease to foreknow all future volitions, or if he had never foreknown them, they would, nevertheless, just as certainly and infallibly come to pass, as if he had foreknown them from all eternity. The bare naked fact, that they are future infers all that is implied in God's foreknowledge of them; and it is just as much a contradiction in terms, to say that what is future will not come to pass, as it is to say, that what God foreknows will never take place. Hence, by bringing in the prescience of Deity, we do not really strengthen or add to the conclusion in favour of necessity. It only furnishes a very convenient and plausible method of begging the question, or of seeming to prove something by hiding our sophisms in the blaze of the divine attributes. It only serves as a veil, behind which is concealed those sophistical tricks, by which both the performer and the spectator are deceived. This whole argument from the foreknowledge of God, is, indeed, a grand specimen of undesigned metaphysical jugglery, by which the mind is called off in one direction, whilst it is deceived, perplexed, and confounded, by not seeing what takes place in another. It appears from these things, that those persons who have endeavoured to clear up this matter, by supposing that some things are not foreknown to God; have only got rid of one of the divine attributes, and not of their difficulty. It appears also, that Edwards might have made his argument far more simple and direct, by leaving out the long section in which he proves that God really foreknows all _future_ things; and confining himself to the simple proposition, "that all future events will certainly and infallibly come to pass;" that "it is a contradiction in terms to say that a thing is future and yet that it will not come to pass"; or, in other words, "if a thing is future, _it is impossible it should be otherwise than true_," that it will come to pass. And how unreasonable are those, who have imagined that we are free-agents, because God has chosen not to foresee our free actions; as if the supposition that he might have foreseen them, does not infer necessity just as much as the fact that he does foresee them. Indeed, these reasoners seem to have expected to see one truth, by shutting their eyes upon another! Mr. Hobbes has an argument to prove necessity, precisely like that of Edwards, except that its nakedness is not covered up with the foreknowledge of God. "Let the case be put," says he, "of the weather: 'tis necessary that to-morrow it shall rain or not rain. If, therefore, it be not necessary that it shall rain, it is necessary it shall not rain; otherwise there is no necessity that the proposition, it shall rain or not rain, should be true." This sophism confounds the _axiomatical necessity_ referred to in the premise, that it must rain or not rain, with the _causal necessity_ intended to be deduced from it in the conclusion. This poor sophism has been adopted by Mr. Locke, and seriously employed to prove that human volitions "cannot be free." Thus, says he, "It is unavoidably necessary to prefer the doing or forbearance of an action in a man's power, which is once proposed to a man's thoughts. The act of volition or preferring one of the two, being that, which he cannot avoid, a man in respect of that act of willing is under necessity." Here we have precisely the same confusion of an _axiomatical_ with a _causal_ necessity, that occurs in the argument of Mr. Hobbes. And yet, the younger Edwards has deemed this argument of Mr. Locke as worthy of his special notice and commendation; and President Day falls in with the same idea, alleging that "we will because we cannot avoid willing," because we must either choose or refuse. Is it not wonderful, that these philosophers should have imagined, that they had any controversy with any one, in contending so manfully that the mind, under certain circumstances, must either choose or refuse? or that they could infer any thing from this, in favour of a causal necessity--the only question in dispute? With what clearness! with what force! would President Edwards have dashed this poor flimsy sophism into a thousand atoms, if he had come across it in the atheism of Hobbes! But, unfortunately, he came across it in a different direction; and hence, he has rescued it from the loathsome dunghill of atheistical trash, invested it with dignity, seeming to clothe it in the solemn sanction of religion, by covering it up in the ample folds of the divine Omniscience. This, then, is the conclusion of the whole matter. The prescience of God does not _make_ our volitions necessary; it only _proves_ them to be certain. This is conceded by Edwards. It proves them to be certain, just as present knowledge proves them to be certain. This also is admitted by Edwards. But present knowledge proves an act of the mind to be certain, because it is infallibly connected with that knowledge, and not because it is necessitated by the influence of a cause. It proves it to be certain, because it is impossible for a volition, or any thing else, not to exist at the time of its existence, and not because it is impossible for it to come to pass without being necessitated. In short, it proves an _axiomatical_ and a _logical_ necessity, but not a _causal_ necessity; that is to say, it proves nothing to the point in dispute. The necessitarian can connect his conclusion with the thing he has undertaken to prove, in only one of two ways: he may say, that if an event is certain, it cannot come into existence without a producing cause; or he may allege, that God cannot foresee them, unless he is determined to bring them to pass. If he takes the former position, he really discards the argument from foreknowledge, and returns for support to the old argument, that every effect must have a cause. And if he assumes the latter, maintaining that God cannot foreknow future events unless he reasons from producing causes to effects, he builds his argument, not upon foreknowledge alone, but upon this in connection with a most unwarrantable flight of presumption, without which the argument from prescience is good for nothing. And besides, the bringing in of the divine prescience, only serves to blind, and not to illuminate. For God foreknows only what is future; and all future things will come to pass just as infallibly, without being foreknown, as they will with it. If we assume them to be future, it is just as much a contradiction to deny that they will come to pass; as it is to assume that they are foreknown and yet deny it. Nothing can be proved in this way, except what is assumed or taken for granted; and the foreknowledge of God is only a plausible way of begging the question, or concealing a sophism. In conclusion, the necessitarian takes the wrong course in his inquiries, and lays his premises in the dark. To illustrate this point:--I know that I act; and hence, I conclude that God foreknew that I would act. And again, I know that my act is not necessitated, that it does necessarily proceed from the action, or influence of causes; and hence, I conclude that God foreknew that I would thus act freely, in precisely this manner, and not otherwise. Thus, I reason from what I know to what I do not know, from my knowledge of the actual world as it is, up to God's foreknowledge respecting it. The necessitarian pursues the opposite course. He reasons from what he does not know, that is, from the particulars of the divine foreknowledge, about which he absolutely knows nothing _a priori_, down to the facts of the actual world. Thus, quitting the light which shines so brightly within us and around us, he seeks for light in the midst of impenetrable darkness. He endeavours to determine the phenomena of the world, not by looking at them and seeing what they are; but by deducing conclusions from God's infinite foreknowledge respecting them! In doing this, a grand illusion is practised, by his merely supposing that the volitions themselves are foreknown, without taking into the supposition the whole of the case, and recollecting that God not only foresees all our actions, but also all about them. For if this were done, if it were remembered that He not only foresees that our volitions will come to pass, but also _how_ they will come to pass; the necessitarian would see, that nothing could be proved in this way except what is first tacitly assumed. The grand illusion would vanish, and it would be clearly seen, that if the argument from foreknowledge proves any thing, it just as well proves the _necessity of freedom_ as any thing else. Indeed, it does seem to me, that it is one of the most wonderful phenomena in the history of the human mind, that, in reasoning about facts in relation to which the most direct and palpable sources of evidence are open before us, so many of its brightest ornaments should so long have endeavoured to draw conclusions from "the dark unknown" of God's foreknowledge; without perceiving that this is to reject the true method, to invert the true order of inquiry, and to involve the inquirer in all the darkness and confusion inseparable therefrom: without perceiving that no powers, however great, that no genius, however exalted, can possibly extort from such a method any thing but the dark, and confused, and perplexing exhibitions of an ingenious logomachy. SECTION XII. OF EDWARDS' USE OF THE TERM NECESSITY. IN the controversy concerning the will, nothing is of more importance, it will readily be admitted, than to guard against the influence of the ambiguity of words. Yet, it may be shown, that President Edwards has used the principal terms in this controversy in an exceedingly loose and indeterminate manner. This he has done especially in regard to the term _necessity_. His very definition prepares the way for such an abuse of language. "_Philosophical necessity_," says he, "is really nothing else than the FULL AND FIXED CONNEXION BETWEEN THE THINGS SIGNIFIED BY THE SUBJECT AND PREDICATE OF A PROPOSITION, which affirms something to be true. When there is such a connexion, then the thing affirmed in the proposition is necessary, in a philosophical sense, whether any opposition or contrary effort be supposed or no. When the subject and predicate of the proposition, which affirms the existence of any thing, either substance, quality, act, or circumstance, have a full and CERTAIN CONNEXION, then the existence or being of that thing is said to be _necessary_ in a metaphysical sense. And in this sense I use the word _Necessity_, in the following discourse, when I endeavour to prove _that Necessity is not inconsistent with Liberty_." "The subject and predicate of a proposition, which affirms existence of something, may have a full, fixed, and certain connexion several ways." "1. They may have a full and perfect connexion _in and of themselves;_ because it may imply a contradiction, or gross absurdity, to suppose them not connected. Thus many things are necessary in their own nature. So the eternal existence of being, generally considered, is necessary _in itself;_ because it would be in itself the greatest absurdity, to deny the existence of being in general, or to say there was absolute and universal nothing; and as it were the sum of all contradictions; as might be shown, if this were the proper place for it. So God's infinity, and other attributes are necessary. So it is necessary _in its own nature_, that two and two should be four; and it is necessary, that all right lines drawn from the centre to the circumference should be equal. It is necessary, fit, and suitable, that men should do to others, as they would that they should do to them. So innumerable metaphysical and mathematical truths are necessary _in themselves_; the subject and predicate of the proposition which affirms them, are perfectly connected of _themselves_." "2. The connexion of the subject and predicate of a proposition, which affirms the existence of something, may be fixed and made certain, because the existence of that thing is _already_ come to pass; and either now is, or has been; and so has, as it were, made sure of existence. And therefore, the proposition which affirms present or past existence of it, may by this means, be made certain, and necessarily and unalterably true; the past event has fixed and decided the matter, as to its existence; and has made it impossible but that existence should be truly predicated of it. Thus the existence of whatever is already come to pass, is now become necessary; it is become impossible it should be otherwise than true, that such a thing has been." "3. The subject and predicate of a proposition which affirms something to be, may have a real and certain connexion _consequentially_; and so the existence of the thing may be consequentially necessary, as it may be surely and firmly connected with something else, that is necessary in one of the former respects. As it is either fully and thoroughly connected with that which is absolutely necessary in its own nature; or with something which has already made sure of its existence. This necessity lies _in_, and may be explained _by_, the connexion between two or more propositions, one with another. Things which are _perfectly connected_ with other things that are necessary, are necessary themselves, by a necessity of consequence." After having defined what he means by philosophical or metaphysical necessity, he tells us, that this is the sense in which he uses the word, when he endeavours to show that necessity is not inconsistent with liberty. And yet under "this sense," how many totally distinct ideas are embraced! The eternal existence of being in general; the attributes of God; the proposition that two and two are four; the equality of the radii of a circle; the moral duty that we should do as we would be done by; the existence of a thing which has already come to pass; the existence of things, that are connected with that which is absolutely necessary in itself, or with something that has already made sure of its existence; the connexion of two or more propositions with each other--all these things are included in his definition of philosophical necessity! And yet he tells us, that he uses the term in this sense (in what sense?) when he undertakes to reconcile liberty with necessity! When he says, that he employs the word in _this_ sense, one would suppose that, as a great metaphysician, he referred to some one of its precise and definite significations; but no such thing. He merely refers to its philosophical sense, which, according to his own explanation, embraces a multitude of different ideas. Hence, although he may keep close to this philosophical sense of the word, "in the ensuing discourse;" yet he may, before the discourse is concluded, shift his position a thousand times from one of these ideas to another. And he may always seem, to superficial observers, to speak of the same thing; because although the things spoken of are really different, they are all drawn together under one definition, and called by one name. He not only may have done this; he actually has done it. And if he had formed the express design to envelope the whole subject in a cloud of sophistry, he could not have taken a better course to accomplish his object. It was the design of the Inquiry to establish the doctrine of moral necessity; and hence it was incumbent on President Edwards to reconcile this kind of necessity, and not philosophical necessity, with the free-agency of man. He contends that there is a necessary connexion between the influence of motives and volitions. This he calls moral necessity. It differs from natural necessity, says he, it differs from the necessary connexion between cause and effect; but yet, he expressly tells us, that this difference "does not lie so much _in the nature of the connexion_, as in the _terms connected_." In both cases, he maintains, the connexion is necessary and absolute. The two terms connected are different; but the kind and nature of the connexion is the same. This is the kind of necessity for which he pleads; and we can never be satisfied with his scheme, until the term shall be used in this precise and definite sense, and the doctrine it expresses shall be shown to be consistent with the true idea and feeling of liberty in the human breast. It will not, it cannot satisfy the mind, that any other kind of necessity is reconcilable with liberty; while it remains to be shown that moral necessity, as it is defined and explained in the Inquiry, is consistent with the free-agency of man. There is one sense of the term in question, says he, "which especially belongs to the controversy about acts of the will," p. 30. It is what he calls "a necessity of consequence." This would be very true, if he merely meant by a necessity of consequence, to refer to the necessary connexion between cause and effect. But this is not his meaning; for he expressly says, that "a necessity of consequence" "lies _in_, and may be explained _by_, the connexion of two or more propositions one with another." Now what has the connexion between any two or all the propositions in the universe, to do with the controversy about acts of the will? Is it not evident, that it is the connexion which subsists between effects and their producing causes, and which is supposed to subsist between motives and actions, that has to do with the controversy in question; and that the connexion which subsists between two or more propositions is entirely foreign to the subject? It may be said, that by "a necessity of consequence," Edwards referred not only to the connexion between two or more propositions, but also to the connexion between cause and effect. This is undoubtedly true; for he speaks of effects as coming to pass by this kind of necessity. But then it is to be lamented that two ideas, which are so perfectly distinct, should have been couched under the same mode of expression, and treated as if they were identically the same. Such a confounding of different ideas, has led to no little confusion and error in the reasoning of President Edwards. The subject of the last section furnishes a striking illustration of the justness of this remark. From the proposition that a volition is certainly and infallibly foreknown, it follows, by a necessity of consequence, that it will come to pass. This is an instance of the necessary connexion between two ideas or propositions; between the idea or proposition, that a certain volition is foreknown, and the idea that it will come to pass; between the proposition which affirms that, it is foreknown, and the idea that it will come to pass in other words, the proposition which affirms that it is foreknown, necessarily assumes that it will come to pass; and to deny this assumption, at the same time that we make it, is surely to be guilty of a contradiction in terms. To suppose that a volition will not come to pass, is inconsistent with the proposition that it is certainly and infallibly foreknown. Edwards himself has frequently declared that this is the kind of necessity which is inferred from foreknowledge. In truth, the necessary connexion which exists between the idea that a thing is foreknown, and the truth of the proposition which predicates future existence of it, is perfectly distinct from the necessary connexion between cause and effect. They are as widely different, as the connexion between any two propositions in Euclid is from the connexion between the motion of a ball and the force by which it is put in motion. Hence, the kind of necessity which is involved in the idea of foreknowledge, has nothing to do with the controversy about acts of the will. There is, in like manner, a necessary connexion between the idea that a volition is now certainly and infallibly known to exist, and the truth of the proposition which affirms present existence of it; and hence, its present existence is necessary, by "a necessity of consequence," according to the definition of President Edwards. But all this has no relevancy to the question, as to _how_ that volition came to pass. Its present existence is necessarily connected with the idea that it is certainly known to exist; but this is "a necessity of consequence" which "lies in, and may be explained by, the connexion between two or more propositions." It is not "a necessity of consequence" that lies _in_, or can be explained _by_, the connexion between cause and effect. The two things are entirely different, and it is strange, that they should always have been confounded by President Edwards. I do most certainly and infallibly know, for example, that I am now _willing_ to write; and from this knowledge, it necessarily follows, that I am now _willing_ to write. But if any one should infer from hence, that I am necessitated to write, by the operation of some cause, we should certainly think his inference very badly drawn. Yet this is precisely the way in which the necessitarian proceeds, when he infers the necessity of human actions from the foreknowledge of God. He confounds the necessary connexion between two propositions, with the necessary connexion between cause and effect. This single ambiguity has been a mighty instrument in the building up of that portentous scheme of necessity, which has seemed to overshadow the glory and beauty of man's nature as a free and accountable being. This is not the only ambiguity of the term in question which has been turned to account by the necessitarian. In opposition to the scheme of moral necessity, or the necessary connexion between volitions and the influence of motives, it has been said, that volitions are produced neither by motives, nor by preceding acts of choice. This is a direct denial of the doctrine of moral necessity, of the only thing which we are at all concerned to deny. We may thus attempt to escape from the thing, but the name still pursues us. For, to this view of the subject, President Edwards replies as follows: "If any shall see cause to deny this, and say they hold no such thing as that every action is chosen or determined by a foregoing choice; but that the very first exertion of will only, undetermined by any preceding act, is properly called action; then I say, such a man's notion of action implies necessity; for what the mind is the subject of, without the determination of its own previous choice, it is the subject of necessarily, as to any hand that free choice has in the affair; and without any ability the mind has to prevent it, by any will or election of its own; because by the supposition it precludes all previous acts of the will or choice in the case, which might prevent it. So that it is again, in this other way, implied in the notion of an act, that, it is both necessary and not necessary," p. 199. It is in this manner, that President Edwards disposes of this important view of the subject of free-agency. Let us examine his logic. In the first place, the argument is not sound. It proceeds on the supposition, that unless a volition is produced, it cannot be prevented, by a preceding act of volition. This is a false supposition. I choose, for example, to go out at one of the doors of my room. This choice is not produced by any preceding act of choice. And yet I can certainly prevent it, by choosing to go out at the other door of the room, or by choosing to sit still. Thus one act of choice may, from the very nature of things, necessarily exclude or prevent another act of choice; although it could not possibly have produced that other act of choice. But suppose the argument to be sound, what does it prove? It proves our actions to be necessary; but in what sense? Does it show them to be subject to that moral necessity, for which Edwards contends, and against which we protest? This is the question, let me repeat, which we have undertaken to discuss; and if we would not wander in an eternal maze of words, we must keep to it; it is the talisman which is to conduct us out of all our difficulties and perplexities. It is the first point, and the second point, and the third point in logic, to keep to the issue, steadily, constantly, and without the least shadow of turning. Otherwise we shall lose ourselves in a labyrinth of words, in darkness and confusion interminable. In what sense, then, does the above argument, supposing it to be sound, prove our actions to be necessary? Does it prove them to be necessary with a moral necessity? It does not. According to the argument in question, volitions are necessary, "_as to any hand free choice has in the affair;_ because _by the supposition_ it precludes all previous acts of the will or choice in the case, _which might prevent them_." That is to say, volitions are necessary as to previous acts of choice; because _by the supposition_ previous acts of choice do not produce them, and consequently cannot prevent them. This is the argument. Now, it is very true, that this is not an unheard of use of the term in question. We say a thing is necessary, when it is dependent upon no cause for its existence. Thus the existence of the Supreme Being is said to be necessary, because he is the uncaused Cause of all things. As he owes his existence to nothing, so there is nothing capable of destroying it. He is independent of all causes; and hence, his existence is said to be necessary. In like manner, a thing may be said to be necessary as to any other particular thing, upon which it does not depend for its existence. As the Supreme Being is said to be necessary as to all things, because his existence depends upon nothing; so any created object may be said to be necessary, as to the influence of any other object, to which it does not owe its existence, and upon which its existence does not depend. It is in this sense that our volitions are shown to be necessary by the above argument of President Edwards. A volition "is necessary as to any hand free choice has in the affair; because by the supposition it preclude all previous acts of the will or choice in the case, which might prevent it." That is to say, it is necessary as to preceding acts of choice; because, by the supposition, it is wholly independent of preceding acts of choice for its existence. Now, in so far as the doctrine of moral necessity is concerned, this argument amounts to just exactly nothing. For although a volition may be necessary as to one particular cause, in consequence of its being wholly independent of that cause; it does not follow that it is necessarily produced by another cause. Because it does not result from any preceding act of volition, and consequently is necessary as to any hand that preceding act of volition had in the affair, it does not follow, that the "strongest motive" produces it. Supposing a volition to be independent of all causes, as well as of preceding acts of choice; and then it would be necessary, in the same sense, as to all causes, as well as to preceding acts of choice. But how infinitely absurd would it be to conclude, that because a volition is independent of the influence of all causes, it is therefore necessarily connected with the influence of a particular cause! We only deny that volitions are necessarily connected with the "power," or "influence," or "action," of motives or moral causes. This is the only kind of necessity against which, as the advocates of free-agency, we are at all concerned to contend. And it is worse than idle for the necessitarian to endeavour to establish any other kind of necessity beside this. Let him come directly to the point, and _keep to it_, if he would hope to accomplish any thing. This shifting backwards and forwards from one meaning of an ambiguous term to another; this showing a volition to be necessary in one sense, and then tacitly assuming it to be necessary in another sense; is not the way to silence and refute the adversaries of the doctrine of moral necessity. It may show, (supposing the argument to be sound,) that a volition is necessary as to a particular cause, on the supposition that it is not produced by that cause; and in the same manner, it might be shown, that a volition is necessary as to all causes, on the supposition that it is produced by no cause. But the necessity which results from such a supposition, would be directly arrayed against the necessity for which President Edwards contends. In the same sense, volitions "are necessary as to any hand motives have in the affair," on the supposition that they do not result from the influence of motives; but instead of building on this kind of necessity, one would have supposed that President Edwards was somewhat concerned in its destruction. In short, the case stands thus: a thing is said to be necessary, on the supposition that it has _no cause_ of its existence; or necessary as to another thing, on the supposition that it does not depend on that other thing for its existence. Again, a thing is said to be necessary, on the supposition that it proceeds from the operation of _a cause_. These ideas are perfectly distinct. The difference between them is as clear as noonday. It is true, they have the same name; but to reason from the one to the other, is about as wild an abuse of language as could be made. President Edwards is required to show that a volition is necessary, in the sense of _its having a moral cause;_ he has shown that it is necessary in the sense of _its not having a cause_. This is his argument. Let us view this subject in another light. If we say that a volition proceeds from a prior act of choice, we certainly hold the doctrine of necessity. President Edwards speaks out from the Inquiry and convicts us of this doctrine. "Their notion of, action," says he, "implies necessity, and supposes that it is necessary, and cannot be contingent. For they suppose, that whatever is properly called action, must be determined by the will and free choice; and this is as much as to say, that it must be necessary, being dependent upon, and determined by something foregoing; namely, a foregoing act of choice," p. 199. Thus, if we say that a volition is produced by a preceding act of volition, we are clearly convicted of the doctrine of necessity. Now let us endeavour to escape from this accusation. For this purpose, let us assume the directly opposite position: let us deny that our volitions are produced by preceding acts of choice--and what then? Are we out of danger? Far from it. We are still convicted of the dreaded doctrine of necessity. On the very supposition we have made, diametrically opposite as it is to the former, we are still convicted of the same doctrine of necessity. We cannot escape from it. It pursues us, like a ghost, through the dark and ill-defined shadows of an ambiguous phraseology, and lays its cold hand upon us. Turn wheresoever we may, it is sure to meet us in some shape or other. This is not all. We are also convicted of a contradiction in terms. It is shown, that we hold an act to be "both necessary and not necessary." This may appear to be an exceedingly grave charge; and yet I think we may venture to put in the plea of "guilty." We do hold an act to be necessary, as to the strongest motive, as well as to any preceding act of choice, by which we contend it is not produced, and by which it cannot be prevented. We likewise most freely admit, that many volitions are necessary in other senses of the word, as explained by President Edwards. We cannot deny this, so long as we retain our senses; for "a thing is said to be necessary," according to him, "when it has already come to pass, and so made sure of its existence; and it is likewise said to be necessary, when its present existence, is certainly and infallibly known, as well as when its future existence is certainly and infallibly foreknown. But yet we deny, that an act of volition is necessary, in the sense that it is produced by the operation of the strongest motive, as it is called. That is to say, we admit an act of choice to be necessary, in some senses of the word; and, in another sense of it, we deny it to be necessary." Is there any thing very contradictory in all this? Any thing to shock the common sense and reason of mankind? It may be said, that Edwards does not always endeavour to establish the doctrine of moral necessity; that he frequently aims merely to show, that our actions are "not without all necessity." This is unquestionably true. He frequently arrives at this conclusion; and he seems to think that he has done something, whenever he has shown our actions to be necessary in any sense of the word as defined by himself. But it is difficult to conceive with whom he could have had any controversy. For certainly no one in his right mind, could pretend to deny that human actions are necessary in any sense, as the word is explained and used in the Inquiry. When it is said, for example, that the truth of the proposition which affirms the future existence of an event, is _necessarily_ connected with the idea that that event is certainly and infallibly foreknown; no one, in his right mind, can deny the position. Such a denial, as Edwards says, involves a contradiction in terms. Hence, this notion of necessity only requires to be stated and understood, in order to rivet irresistible conviction on the mind of every rational being. No light has been thrown upon it, by the pages which President Edwards has devoted to the subject; nor could a thousand volumes render it one whit clearer than it is in itself. Hence, the author of the Inquiry should have seen, that if there was any controversy with him on this point, it was not because there was any diversity of opinion; but because there was a misconception of his proposition. And no doubt he would have seen this, if the meaning of his own language had been clearly defined in his own mind: if he had marked out and circumscribed, as with a sunbeam, the precise limitation within which his own propositions are true, and beyond which they are false. If he had done this, he would have seen that there was, and that there could have been, but one real point of difference between himself and his adversaries. He would have seen, that, aside from the ambiguities of language, there was but one real point in dispute. He would have seen, that it was affirmed, on the one side, that the strongest motive operates to produce a choice; and that this was denied on the other. And hence, he would have put forth his whole strength to establish this single point, to fortify this single doctrine of moral necessity. He would not have crowded so many different ideas into the definition of the term _necessity_; and then imagined that he was overwhelming and confounding his adversaries, when he was only showing that human "actions are not without all necessity." And when they said, that "a necessary action is a contradiction," he would have seen how they used the term necessary; and he would not have concluded, as he has done, that this "notion of action implies contingence, _and excludes all necessity_," p. 199. He would have seen, that the idea of an action, in our view, is inconsistent with necessity, in one sense of the word; and yet not inconsistent with every thing that has been called necessity. In the definition of President Edwards, there is an inherent and radical defect, which I have not as yet noticed; and which is, indeed, the source of all his vacillating on this subject. It proceeds from a very common error, which has been well explained and illustrated by Mr. Stewart in his Essay on the Beautiful. The various theories, which ingenious men have framed in relation to the beautiful, says Mr. Stewart, "have originated in a prejudice, which has descended to modern times from the scholastic ages; that when a word admits of a variety of significations, these different significations must all be _species_ of the same _genus_; and must consequently include some essential idea common to every individual to which the generic term can be applied." The question of Aristippas, "how can beauty differ from beauty," says Mr. Stewart, "plainly proceeded on a total misconception of the nature of the circumstances; which, in the history of language, attach different meanings to the same word; and which by slow and insensible gradations, remove them to such a distance from their primitive or radical sense, that no ingenuity can trace the successive steps of their progress. The variety of these circumstances is, in fact, so great, that it is impossible to attempt a complete enumeration of them; and I shall, therefore, select a few of the cases, in which the principle now in question appears most obviously and indisputably to fail." "I shall begin with supposing, that the letters A, B, C, D, E, denote a series of objects; that A possesses some quality in common with B; B a quality in common with C; C a quality in common with D; D a quality in common with E;--while at the same time, no quality can be found which belongs in common to any _three_ objects in the series. Is it not conceivable, that the affinity between A and B may produce a transference of the name of the first to the second; and that, in consequence of the other affinities which connect the remaining objects together, the same name may pass in succession from B to C; from C to D; and from D to E?" This idea, and the reasoning which Mr. Stewart has founded upon it, are at once obvious, original and profound. It shows that the most gifted philosophers, have not been able to frame a satisfactory theory of the beautiful, because they have proceeded on the false supposition, that all those objects which are called beautiful have some common property, merely because they have a common appellation, by which they are distinguished from other objects; and that in endeavouring to point out and define this common property, they have engaged in an impracticable attempt; and hence they have succeeded to their own satisfaction, only by doing violence to the nature of things. This is a fruitful idea. It admits of many illustrations. I shall select only a few. Philosophers and jurists have frequently attempted to define executive power; but they have proceeded on the supposition, that all those powers called executive, have a common and distinguishing property, because they have a common name. Hence, they have necessarily failed; because the supposition on which they have proceeded is false. Executive power, properly so called, is that which sees to the execution of the laws; and other powers are called executive, not because they partake of the nature of such powers, but simply because they have been conferred upon the chief executive magistrate. The same remark, may be made, in relation to the attempts of ingenious men, to define the nature of law in general. If we analyze all those things which have been called laws, we shall find that they have no element or property in common: the only thing they have in common is the name. Hence, when we undertake to define law in general, or to point out the common property by which laws are distinguished from other things, we must necessarily fail. We may frame a definition in words, as others have done; but, however carefully this may be constructed, it can be applied to different kinds of laws, only by giving totally different meanings to the words of which it is composed. Thus, for example, a law is said to be "a rule of conduct," given by a superior to an inferior, and "which the inferior is bound to obey." Now, who does not see, that the words _conduct_ and _obedience_, must have totally distinct meanings, when they are applied to inanimate objects and when they are applied to the actions of moral and accountable beings? And who does not see, that human beings are _bound_ to do their duty, in an entirely different sense, from that in which matter can be said to be under an obligation? The same remark may be extended to all the definitions which have been given of law in general. And whoever understands the philosophy of definitions, will easily perceive that every attempt to draw things, so wholly unlike each other, under one and the same mode of expression, is not really to define, but to hide, the true nature of things under the ambiguities of language. Of this common fault, President Edwards has been guilty. Instead of defining the various senses of the term necessity, and always using it with precision and without confusion; he has undertaken to show wherein those things called necessary really agree in some common property. He looked for a common nature, where there is only a common name. As Aristippas could not conceive, "how beauty could differ from beauty;" so, if we may judge from his argument, it was a great difficulty with him, to conceive how necessity can differ from necessity. Hence, when he proves an action to be necessary in any one of the various senses which are included under his definition of philosophical necessity, he imagines that his work is done; and when his adversary denies that an action is necessary in any one of those senses, he concludes that he denies "all necessity!" In all this, we see the question as plainly as if it had been expressly written down, "how can philosophical necessity differ from philosophical necessity?" To which I would simply reply, that a thing cannot differ from itself, it is true; but the same word may have very different meanings; and that it is "a prejudice which has descended to modern times from the scholastic ages," to suppose that things have a common nature, merely because they have a common name. No better illustration of the fallacy of this prejudice could be furnished, than that which Edwards has given in his definition of philosophical or metaphysical necessity. Under this definition, as we have seen, he has included the being of a God, which is said to be necessary, because he has existed from all eternity, unmade and uncaused; and also the existence of an effect, which is said to be necessary, because it necessarily results from the operation of a cause. Now, these two ideas stand in direct opposition to each other; and the only thing they have in common is the name. And yet President Edwards reasons from the one to the other! If he can, in any way, reach the name, this seems to satisfy him. The _thing_ in dispute is entirely overlooked. If we say that choice is produced by choice, then he contends it is an effect, and consequently necessary. If we deny that choice is produced by choice, then it is necessary any how; not because it is produced by a cause, but because it is independent of a cause, being neither produced nor prevented by it. It makes no difference with this great champion of necessity, whether choice is said to be produced by choice or not; for, on either of these opposite suppositions, he can show that our volitions are necessary. The absence of the very circumstance which makes it necessary in the one case, is that which makes it necessary in the other. Is choice produced by choice? Then this dependence of choice upon choice, shows it to be necessary. Is choice _not_ produced by choice? Then this independence of choice upon choice is the very thing which shows it to be necessary! Thus this great champion of necessity, just passes from one meaning of the term to another, without the least regard to the point in dispute, or to the logical coherency of his argument. Surely, if "a reluctant world has bowed in homage" to his logic, it must have been because the world has been too indolent to pry into the sophisms with which it swarms. It is only in his onsets upon error, that the might of his resistless logic is felt; in the defence of his own system, he does not reason at all, he merely rambles. Indeed, with all his gigantic power, he was compelled to reel and stagger under the burden of such a cause. SECTION XIII. OF NATURAL AND MORAL NECESSITY. I HAVE already said many things bearing upon the famous distinction between natural and moral necessity; but this distinction is regarded as so important by its advocates, that it deserves a separate notice. This I shall proceed to give it. The distinction in question is treated with no great reverence by the advocates of free-agency. It is denounced by them as a distinction without a difference; and, though this may be true in the main, yet this is not the way to settle any thing. There is, indeed, a real difference between natural and moral necessity, as they are held and described by necessitarians; and if we pay no attention to it, our declarations about its futility will be apt to produce more heat than light. I fully recognize the justness of the demand made by Dr. Edwards, that those who insist that natural and moral necessity are the same, should tell us in what respects they are so. "We have informed them," says he, "in what respects we hold them to be different. We wish them to be equally explicit and candid," p. 19. I intend to be equally explicit and candid. I admit, then, that there is a real difference between natural and moral necessity; they differ, as the Edwardses say, in the nature of the terms connected. In the one case, there is a natural cause and its effect, such as force and the motion produced by it, connected together; and in the other, there is a motive and a volition. In this respect, I believe that there is a greater difference between them than does the necessitarian himself; for he considers volition to be of the same nature with an effect, whereas I regard it as essentially different in nature and in kind from an effect. There is another difference between natural and moral necessity. Natural necessity admits of an opposition of the will; whereas it is absurd to suppose any such opposition in the case of moral necessity. A man may be so bound that his utmost efforts to move may prove unavailing: in such a case, he is said to labour under a natural necessity. This always implies and presupposes an opposition of will. But not so in regard to moral necessity. It is absurd to suppose, that our wills can ever be in opposition to moral necessity; for this would be to suppose that we are made willing by the influence of motives, and yet are not willing. Now, I fully recognize these differences between natural and moral necessity, as they are viewed by the necessitarian. Whether they are not inconsistent with their ideas of moral necessity, is another question. But as I am not concerned with that question at present, I am willing to take these differences without the least abatement. Admitting, then, that these distinctions are well-founded, and that they are perfectly consistent with the idea of moral necessity, let us see in what respects there is an agreement between the things under consideration. The difference does not lie, says Edwards, _so much in the nature of the connexion_, as in the two terms connected. Moral necessity is "a sure and perfect connexion between moral causes and effects." It is "as absolute as natural necessity." The influence of motives is not a condition of volition, which the will may or may not follow; it is the _cause_ thereof; and it is absurd to suppose that the effect, the volition, can be loose from the influence of its cause, p. 77-8. Yes, volition is just as absolutely and unconditionally controlled by motive, as the inanimate objects of nature are controlled by the power of the Almighty. The connexion, the necessary connexion, which subsists between motion and the force by which it is produced, is the same in nature and in kind as that which subsists between the "action or influence of motive" and volition. Herein, then, is the agreement, that in moral necessity, as well as in natural, the effect is produced by the influence of its cause. The nature of the connexion is the same in both; and in both it is equally absolute. Now we have seen the differences, and we have also seen the points of agreement; and the question is, not whether this famous distinction be well-founded, but whether it will serve the purpose for which it is employed. In the full light, and in the perfect recognition of this distinction, we deny that it will serve the purpose of the necessitarian. It is supposed, that natural necessity alone interferes with the free-agency of man, while moral necessity is perfectly consistent with it. But, in reality, moral necessity is more utterly subversive of all free-agency and accountability than natural necessity itself. Think not that this is a mere hasty and idle assertion. Let us look at it, and see if it is not true. We have already seen, that a caused volition is no volition at all;--that a necessary agent is a contradiction in terms. In other words, a power to act must itself act, and not be made to act by the action of any other power, or else it does not act at all. And if it must be caused to act, before it can act, then, as we have already seen, there must be an infinite series of acts. These things have been fully illustrated, and defended against the false analogies, by which they have been assailed; and they are here mentioned only for the sake of greater clearness and distinctness. If the scheme of moral necessity be true, then, according to which our volitions are absolutely caused by the "action or influence of motive," it is idle to talk about free acts of the will; for there are no acts of the will at all. If our wills are caused to put forth volitions, and are turned to one side or the other, by the controlling influence of motives, it is idle to talk about a free-will; for we have no will at all. I know full well, that President Edwards admits that we have a will; and that the will does really act; but this admission is contradicted by bringing the will and all its exercises under the domination and absolute control of motives. He obliterates the distinction between cause and effect, between action and passion, between mental activity and bodily motion; and thereby draws the phenomena of will, the volitions of all intelligent creatures, under the iron scheme of necessity. We are eternally reminded that Edwards believes in the existence of a will, and in the reality of its acts. We know it; but let us not be accused of misrepresenting him, unless it can be shown that one part of his system does not contradict another,--unless it can be shown, not by false analogies and an abuse of words, but by valid evidence, that _an act of the mind may be necessarily caused_. This never has been shown; and the attempts of the necessitarian to show it, as we have seen, are among the most signal failures in the whole range of human philosophy. Until this be shown, we must contend that there is nothing in the universe so diametrically opposed to all free-agency--to all liberty of the will, as the scheme of moral necessity; which so clearly overthrows and, demolishes the very idea of a will and all its volitions. Indeed, what is called natural necessity does not properly interfere with the liberty of _the will_ at all; it merely restrains the freedom of _motion_. It is moral necessity that reaches the seat of the mind, and takes away all the freedom thereof; even denying to us the possession of a will itself. When my hand is bound, I may strive to move it in vain; in this case, my _will_ is free, because I may strive, or I may not; but the hand is not free, because it cannot move. But if motives cause the mind to follow their influence, so that it may not possibly depart or be loose from that influence; then we have no will at all; and it is idle and a mockery to talk about freedom of the will. And yet, although Edwards would have us to believe that no system is consistent with free-agency but his own; he occupies the position, that it is absurd to suppose, that a volition may possibly be loose from the influence of motive; that this is to suppose that it is the effect of motive, and at the same time that it is not the effect of motive! "All agree," says Day, "that a necessity which is opposed to our choice, is inconsistent with liberty," p. 91. That is to say, a necessity which cuts off or prevents the external consequence of our choice, is inconsistent with liberty of the will; but that which takes away one choice, and sets up another, is perfectly consistent with it! If the arm is held, so that the free choice cannot move it, then is the liberty of the will interfered with; but, though the will may be absolutely swayed and controlled, by the influence of motives, or by the sovereign power of God himself, yet is it perfectly free! If such be the liberty of the will, what is it worth? There are many things, which it is beyond the power of the human mind to accomplish. Even in such cases, the natural necessity under which we are said to labour, does not interfere with the liberty of the will. If we cannot do such things, it is not because our will is not free in regard to them, but because its power is limited. We might very well attempt them, and put forth volitions in order to accomplish them, as in our ignorance we often do; and if we abstain from so doing in other cases, wherein we might wish to act, it is because we know they are beyond our power, and, as rational creatures, do not choose to make fools of ourselves. To say that we are under a natural necessity, then, is only to say that our power is limited, and not that it is not free. It is reserved for moral necessity--shall I say to enslave?--no, but to annihilate the will. It is true, if we will to do a thing, and are restrained from doing it by a superior force, we are not to blame for not doing it; or if we refuse to do it, and are constrained to do it, we are equally blameless. In such cases, natural necessity, although it does not reach the will, is an excuse for external conduct. If the question were, is a man accountable for his external actions? for the movements of his body? then we might talk about natural necessity. But as the question, in the present controversy, is, whether a man is accountable for his internal acts, for the volitions of his mind? to talk about natural necessity is wholly irrelevant. It has nothing to do with such a controversy; and hence, Edwards is entirely mistaken when he supposes that it is natural necessity, and that alone, which is opposed to the freedom of the will. It is in fact opposed to nothing but the freedom of the body; and by lugging it into the present controversy, it can only serve to make confusion the worse confounded. It is the general sentiment of mankind, that moral necessity is inconsistent with free-agency and accountability. Edwards has taken great pains to explain this fact. His great reason for it is, that men are in the habit of excusing themselves for their outward conduct, on the ground of natural necessity. In this way, by early and constant association, the idea of blamelessness becomes firmly attached to the term necessity, as well as those terms, such as must, cannot, &c., in which the same thing is implied. Hence, we naturally suppose that we are excusable for those things which are necessary with a moral necessity. Thus, the fact that men generally regard moral necessity and free-agency as incompatible with each other, is supposed by Edwards to arise from the ambiguity of language; and that if we will only shake off this influence, we shall see a perfect agreement and harmony between them. But is this so? Let any man fix his mind upon the very idea of moral necessity itself, and then answer this question. Let him lay aside the term necessity, and all kindred words; let him simply and abstractedly consider a volition as being produced by the "action or influence of motives;" and then ask himself, if the subject in which this effect is produced is accountable for it? If it can be his virtue or his vice? Let him conceive of a volition, or anything else, as being produced in the human mind, by an extraneous cause; and then ask himself if the mind in which it is thus produced can be to praise or to blame for it? Let any man do this, and I think he will see a better reason for the common sentiment of mankind than any which Edwards has assigned for it; he will see that men have generally regarded moral necessity as incompatible with free-agency and accountability, just because it is utterly irreconcilable with them. Indeed, however liable "the common people," and philosophers too, may be to be deceived and misled by the ambiguities of language, there is no such deception in the present case. The common people, as they are called, do not always say, my actions are "necessary," "I cannot help them," and therefore I am not accountable for them. They as frequently say, that if my actions, if my volitions, are brought to pass by the strength and influence of motives, I am not responsible for them. This common sentiment and conviction of mankind, therefore, does not blindly aim merely at the name, while it misses the thing; it does indeed bear with all its force directly upon the scheme of moral necessity itself. And its power is sought to be evaded, as we have seen, and as we shall still further see, not by explaining the ambiguities of language, so as to enlighten mankind, but by confounding the most opposite natures, such as action and passion, volition and local motion, through the ambiguities of language. It is the necessitarian, who is always talking about the ambiguities of language, that is continually building upon them. Indeed, it is hard to conceive why he has so often been supposed to use language with such wonderful precision, if it be not because he is eternally complaining of the want of it in others. Just let the common people, or those of them who may desire an opiate for their consciences, see the scheme of moral necessity as it is in itself, stripped of all the disguises of an ambiguous phraseology, and it will satisfy them. It will be the one thing needful to their craving and hungering appetites. Let them be made to believe that all our volitions are produced by the action and influence of motives, so that they may not be otherwise than they are; and a sense of moral obligation and responsibility will be extinguished in their breasts, unless nature should prove too strong for sophistry. Indeed, if we may believe the most authentic accounts, this doctrine has done its strange and fearful work among the common people, both in this country and in Europe. It is a philosophy which is within the reach of the most ordinary minds, as well as the most agreeable to the most abandoned hearts; and hence its awfully desolating power. And if its ravages and devastations have not extended wider and deeper than they have, it is because they have been checked by the combined powers of nature and of religion, rather than by logic; by the happy inconsistency, rather than by the superior metaphysical acumen, of its advocates and admirers. SECTION XIV. OF EDWARDS' IDEA OF LIBERTY. IT was not the design of Edwards, as it is well known, to interfere with the moral agency of man. He honestly believed that the scheme of necessity, as held by himself, was perfectly consistent with the doctrine of liberty; and he retorted upon his adversaries that it was their system, and not his, which struck at the foundation of moral agency and accountability. But however upright may have been his intentions, he has merely left us the name of liberty, while he has in reality denied to us its nature and its essence. According to his view of the subject, "The plain and obvious meaning of the words freedom and liberty, in common speech, is the _power, opportunity_, or _advantage that any one has to do as he pleases_. Or, in other words, his being free from hindrance or impediment in the way of doing, or conducting in any respect as he wills. And the contrary to liberty, whatever name we call that by, is a person's being hindered, or unable to conduct as he will, or being necessitated to do otherwise." This is the kind of liberty for which he contends. And he says, "There are two things contrary to what is called liberty in common speech. One is _constraint_, otherwise called _force_, _compulsion_, and _co-action_, which is a person's being necessitated to do a thing _contrary_ to his will. The other is _restraint_; which is his being hindered, and not having power to do _according_ to his will. But that which has no will cannot be the subject of these things." This notion of liberty, as Edwards says, presupposes the existence of a will. In fact, it presupposes more than this; it presupposes the existence of a determination of the will. For, unless one is determined not to do a thing, he cannot be constrained to do it, contrary to his will; and, unless he is determined to do a thing, he cannot be restrained from doing it according to his will. This kind of liberty, then, as it presupposes the existence of a determination of the will, has nothing to do with the manner in which that determination is brought to pass. If the determination of the mind or will were brought to pass, so to speak, by an absolutely irresistible force; just as any other effect is brought to pass by its efficient cause; yet this kind of liberty might exist in its utmost perfection. For it only requires that after the will is determined in this manner, or in any other, that it should be left free from _constraint_ or _restraint_, to flow on just as it has been determined to do. It is no other liberty than that which is possessed by a current of water, when it is said to flow _freely_, because it is not opposed in its course by any material obstruction. That the liberty for which Edwards contends, has nothing to do with the manner in which our actions or volitions come to pass; or, more properly speaking, with the kind of relation between motives and actions, we have his own express acknowledgment. "What is vulgarly called liberty," says he, "namely, that power and opportunity for one to do and conduct as he will, or according to his choice, is all that is meant by it; without taking into the meaning of the word _any thing of the cause of that choice; or at all considering how the person came to have such a volition;_ whether it was caused by some _external motive_, or _internal habitual bias;_ whether it was determined by some internal antecedent volition, or whether it happened without a cause; whether _it was necessarily connected with something foregoing, or not connected. Let the person come by his choice_ ANY HOW, yet if he is able, and there is nothing in the way to hinder his pursuing and executing his will, _the man is perfectly free_, according to the primary and common notion of freedom." This notion of liberty, it is easy to see, is consistent with the most absolute scheme of fatality of which it is possible to conceive. For, according to this idea of it, if we should come by our choice "any how," even by the most irresistible influence of external circumstances, yet we might be "perfectly free." Hence it is no wonder that we find the same definition of liberty in the writings of the most absolute fatalists. It is remarkable that Edwards has taken great pains to define his idea of philosophical necessity, and to distinguish it from the common sense of the word; and yet he supposes that the notion of liberty, about which the same dispute is conversant, is that which is referred to "in common speech," or that "which is vulgarly called liberty." He contends for a _philosophical necessity_, and especially for a necessary connexion between the influence of motives and volitions; but the _philosophical liberty_ which stands opposed to his scheme, which denies any such _necessary_ connexion, he has not deemed it worth his while to notice! Liberty, according to Edwards' sense of the term, has nothing to do with the controversy respecting free-agency and necessity. It is as consistent with fatalism as could be desired by the most extravagant supporters of that odious system. Hence, when the doctrine of necessity is denied, and that of liberty or moral agency is asserted, something more than this is intended. The idea of liberty, as it stands connected with the controversy in question, has reference to the manner in which our volitions come to pass, to the relation which subsists between motives and their corresponding actions. When we say that the will is free, we mean "that it is not necessarily determined by the influence of motives;" we mean to deny the doctrine of moral necessity, or that the relation which subsists between a motive and its corresponding act, is not that which subsists between an efficient cause and its effect. We mean to contend for a philosophical liberty, as President Edwards contends for a philosophical necessity, and not for that "which is vulgarly called liberty." There is an inconsistency, I am aware, in supposing a choice to be induced by the force of external circumstances, or by the force of motives, whether external or internal; but this inconsistency belongs to the scheme of necessity; and if I have indulged in the supposition for a moment, it was only to meet the necessitarian, and argue with him on his own ground. As I have already said, a will that is _determined_, instead of _determining_, is no will at all. And the liberty of the will for which we contend, is implied by the power of the mind to ACT. It does not depend upon the presence or the absence of any external obstruction. It is no such occasional, or accidental thing; it is an inherent and essential attribute and power of the mind. No power in the universe, but that of creation, can produce it, and no chains on earth can bind it. The idea of liberty, as contended for by President Edwards, is no other than that entertained by Mr. Locke. Thus, says the latter, "there may be thought, there may be will, there may be _volition, where there is no liberty_." In illustration of this position he says, "A man falling into water, (a bridge breaking under him,) has not herein liberty, is not a free-agent. For though he has _volition_, though he prefers his not falling to falling, yet the forbearance of that motion not being in his power, the stop or cessation of that motion follows not upon his volition; and therefore therein he is not free." It is true, he is not therein free, in one of the most common senses of the term; but it is wrong to conclude from hence, that there is in such a case, "_no liberty_." For if the volition, of which he is said to be possessed, did not result from the action of any thing, if it was simply an act of the mind, which was not necessarily produced by another act, then he possessed freedom in the philosophical sense of the term. He was free in the act of willing, in the possession of his volition, although the consequence of that volition was cut off and prevented by an over-ruling necessity, which had no conceivable relation to the manner in which he came by his volition. Wherever there is a volition, there is this kind of liberty; for a volition is not, and cannot be, produced by any coercive force. The foregoing illustration might have been very consistently offered by President Edwards, who considered a volition and a preference of the mind as identically the same; but it comes not with so good a grace from Mr. Locke. He considered an act of the will as different from a preference. According to his doctrine, a man might prefer not to fall, in such a case as that put by himself, and yet not will not to fall. And he illustrates the difference by saying, "a man would prefer flying to walking, yet who can say he ever wills it?" Now, if a man cannot will to fly, it is very difficult to see how he can will not to fall, in case he were dropped from the air. The illustration of Mr. Locke is fallacious. It does not show, and I humbly conceive it cannot be shown, that there can be a volition anywhere in the universe where there is not freedom. The very idea of a volition, or an act of the mind, necessarily implies that kind of philosophical liberty for which we contend. The above notion of liberty, which Mr. Locke borrowed from Hobbes, and Edwards from Locke, evidently confounds the motion of the body, (which they frequently call action,) with volition or action of the mind. Thus, no matter how a volition comes to pass, or is caused to exist, if there is nothing to prevent the _motion_ of the body from following its influence, we are said to be perfectly free. This kind of liberty, therefore, refers to the motion of the body, and not to the action of the mind. It has no reference whatever to the question, Is the mind free in the act of willing? This is the question in dispute; and hence, if the necessitarian would say any thing to the purpose, he must show that his scheme is reconcilable with the freedom of the mind in willing. This Edwards has not attempted to do. He has, in fact, as we have seen, only given us the name, while he has taken from us the substance of liberty. The idea of liberty, for which Edwards contends, may be illustrated by an unobstructed fall of water. Indeed, this is the very thing by which Mr. Hobbes has chosen to illustrate and explain it. "I conceive liberty to be rightly defined in this manner," says he; "liberty is the absence of all the impediments to action, (motion?) that are not contained in the nature and intrinsical quality of the agent, as for example, the water is said to descend freely, or to have liberty to descend by the channel of the river, because there is no impediment that way, but not across, because the banks are impediments, and though the water cannot ascend, yet men never say it wants the liberty to ascend, but the faculty or power, because the impediment is in the nature of the water, and intrinsical." Mr. Hobbes encountered no more difficulty in reconciling this notion of liberty with the scheme of fatality for which he contended, than President Edwards found in reconciling it with the same scheme in disguise. According to the Inquiry, then, we have no other liberty than that which may be ascribed to the winds and the waves of the sea, as they are carried onward in their courses by the power of the Almighty. Edwards looks for liberty, and he finds it, not in the will, but in the motions of the body, which is universally admitted to be passive to the action of the will. He looks for liberty, and he finds it, where, by universal consent, an absolute necessity reigns; thus seeking and finding the living among the dead. It is no wonder, that he could reconcile such a liberty with the scheme of necessity. Even President Day is not satisfied with this account of liberty. "On the subject of liberty or freedom," says he, "which occupies a portion of the fifth section of Edwards' first book, he has been less particular than was to be expected, considering that this is the great object of inquiry in his work." How could Edwards have been more particular? He has repeatedly and most explicitly informed us, that liberty consists in a power, or opportunity, to do as we choose; _without considering how we come by our choice_. If we can only do as we choose, though our choice should be produced by the most absolute and irresistible power in the universe, yet are we perfectly free in the highest conceivable sense of the word. "If any imagine they desire, and that they conceive of a higher liberty than this," says he, "they are deceived, and delude themselves with confused ambiguous words instead of ideas." President Day complains that all this is not sufficiently particular; but although he may not have been aware of it, I apprehend that he has been dissatisfied with the dreadful particularity and precision with which the doctrine of the Inquiry has been exhibited. It is precisely the doctrine of liberty which has been held by the most absolute and unqualified fatalists the world has ever seen; and it is set forth, too, with a bold precision and clearness, which would have done honour to the stern consistency of Hobbes himself. It is no wonder, that President Day should have felt a desire to see such a doctrine softened down by the author of the Inquiry. "The professed object of his book," says President Day, "_according to the title-page_, is an inquiry concerning the freedom of the will;--not the freedom of external conduct. We naturally look for his meaning of this internal liberty. What he has said, in this section, respecting freedom of the will, has rather the appearance of evading such a definition of it as might be considered his own." Yes, it is in this section that we naturally look for his idea of the liberty of the will; but we do not find it. We must turn to the title-page, if we wish to see any thing about the liberty of the will. "What he has said, in this section, respecting freedom of the will," does not, (President Day himself being judge,) relate to the freedom of the will at all; it only relates to the freedom of the body, which has no freedom at all; but which is wholly passive to the action of the will. President Day is not satisfied with all this; and hence, he proceeds to tell us, what Edwards would have said in this section, if he had not thus evaded his own definition of internal liberty. Let us see, then, what he would have said. From a letter to a minister of the Church of Scotland, President Day finds that in the phrase conducting as a man pleases, the author of the Inquiry means to include the idea of _choosing as he pleases_. Now, this is all true; and this is the internal liberty, which President Day has extracted from the aforesaid letter. Then, according to Edwards, we have two kinds of liberty: the one is a liberty to move the body as we please, or as we choose; and the other is, to choose as we please, or as we choose. In the vocabulary, and according to the psychology of President Edwards, as we have frequently seen, and as we here see, our pleasing and our choosing are one and the same thing. Hence, to move our bodies according to our pleasure, is to move it according to our choice; and to choose as we please, is to choose as we choose. President Day need not have gone to the letter in question, in order to find this doctrine; for it is repeatedly set forth in the inquiry. President Edwards, as we have seen, frequently contends in the Inquiry, that we always choose as we choose; and as frequently makes his adversaries assert, that we can "choose without choosing;" which is just as absurd, he truly declares, as to say that a body can move while it is in a state of rest. Now, to place liberty in this "choosing as we choose," without regard to the cause or origin of our choice, is just about as rational as it would be to place it in the axioms of geometry. Suppose a man is made to choose, by an absolute and uncontrollable power; it is nevertheless true, that he chooses as he does choose. This cannot be otherwise than true; it is a self-evident and necessary truth; for nothing can be different from itself, can be what it is, and yet not what it is, at one and the same time. To speak of a power of choosing as we choose, as Edwards and Day both do, is just about as reasonable as it were to speak of a power to make two and two equal to four. Supposing the Almighty should cause us to choose, it is not in his power to prevent us from choosing as we do choose; for he cannot work contradictions. Whether President Edwards speaks of our moving as we please, or of our choosing as we please; whether he speaks of an external liberty, or of this internal liberty; he is always careful to remind us, that it has no reference to the question, how we come by our pleasure or choice. In the letter referred to, wherein he admits that a man's liberty of conducting as he pleases or chooses, includes "a liberty of choosing as he pleases," he instantly adds, but "without determining how he came by that pleasure." Yes, no matter how we come by our choice, though it be wrought into us by the most uncontrollable power in the universe, yet are we free in the highest conceivable sense of the word, if we can only "conduct according to our choice." This, instead of being the greatest liberty, is indeed the greatest mockery, of which it is possible for the imagination of man to conceive. The liberty of fate itself, is, in all respects, to the full as desirable as such a liberty as this. Is it not wonderful, to behold the great and good author of the Inquiry, thus planting himself upon the very ground of atheistical fatalism; and from thence, in sober, serious earnestness, holding out to us, as a great and glorious reality, the mere name and shadow and fiction of liberty? the very phantom which atheists, in mockery and derision, have been pleased to confer upon mankind, as upon poor blind fools, who merely dream of liberty, and fondly dote upon the empty name thereof, whilst they are ignorant of the chains which bind them fast in fate. SECTION XV. OF EDWARDS' IDEA OF VIRTUE. IN order to reconcile his scheme of necessity with the existence and reality of virtue, it appears that Edwards has adopted a false notion of virtue. This is the course he has taken, as I have already shown, in regard to the doctrine of liberty or free-agency, in order to reconcile it with necessity; and if I mistake not, it may be shown, that he has been able to reconcile necessity and virtue only by transforming the nature of virtue to make it suit his system. I do not intend, at present, to enter into a full discussion of the author's views in relation to the nature of virtue. I shall content myself with a brief consideration of his notion of virtue, as it stands more immediately and directly connected with the subject of the Inquiry. It is a fundamental principle with him, that "the essence of the virtue and viciousness of dispositions of the heart, and acts of the will, lies not in their cause, but their nature." In what precise sense the author would have us to understand this proposition, I shall not now stop to inquire. It is sufficient for my present purpose, that he attaches such a sense to it, as to make the idea of virtue it is intended to define, to agree not only with his doctrine of necessity, but also with any other kind of necessity or fatality whatever. For he maintains, that as the essence of virtue does not consist in its cause, but in its nature, so a man by the mere act of creation may, in the proper sense of the word, be endowed with virtuous and holy dispositions. It is true, the man himself has had no share in the production of his dispositions, they are exclusively the work of his Creator; but yet they are virtuous, they are the objects of moral approbation, because the virtuousness of dispositions has nothing at all to do with their cause or origin. It depends wholly on their nature, and having this nature, (as he supposes they may have by creation alone,) he concludes that they are properly and truly virtuous, although the person in whom they exist has in no manner whatever contributed to their production; neither in whole nor in part, neither exclusively nor concurrently with his Maker. Now, it is evident, I think, that if virtue may be made to exist in this way, by a power wholly extraneous to the being in whom it exists, and wholly independent of all his own thoughts and reflections and doings, then it may be easily reconciled with the most absolute scheme of fatality that has ever been advocated. For it may exist without any agency or concurrence or consent on the part of the person in whom it exists; and hence, there would be no difficulty in reconciling it with any scheme of necessity that any fatalist may be pleased to advance. To show that I have not misrepresented the author, I shall select from many passages of similar import, the following from his work on "Original Sin:"--"Human nature must be created with some dispositions; a disposition to relish some things as good and amiable, and to be averse to other things as odious and disagreeable: otherwise it must be without any such thing as inclination or will, perfectly indifferent, without preference, without choice or aversion towards any thing as agreeable or disagreeable. But if it had any concreated dispositions at all, they must be either right or wrong, either agreeable or disagreeable to the nature of things. If man had at first the highest relish of things excellent and beautiful, a disposition to have the quickest and highest delight in those things which are most worthy of it, then his dispositions were morally right and amiable, and _never can be excellent in a higher sense_. But if he had a disposition to love most those things that were inferior and less worthy, then his dispositions were vicious. And it is evident there can be no medium between these." Now, this principle, that a man may be to praise or to blame, that he may be esteemed virtuous or vicious, on account of what he has wholly and exclusively received from another, appears to me to be utterly irreconcilable with one of the clearest and most unequivocal dictates of reason and conscience. According to the above passage, there can be no medium between virtuous and vicious dispositions. This sentiment is still more explicitly declared in the following words; "In a moral agent, subject to moral obligations, it is the same thing to be perfectly _innocent_, as to be perfectly _righteous_. It must be the same, because there can no more be any medium between sin and righteousness, or between being right and being wrong, in a moral sense, than there can be between being straight and crooked, in a natural sense." Now, all this is very true, in regard to a moral being who has been called upon to act; for he must either live up to the rule of duty, or he must fall short of it. If he does the former, he becomes righteous in the true and proper sense of the term; and if he does the latter, he loses his original innocence, and becomes a transgressor. But before he has any opportunity of acting, at the instant of his creation, I humbly conceive that no moral agent is either to be praised or blamed for any disposition with which he may have been endowed by his Maker. He is neither virtuous nor vicious, neither righteous nor sinful. This was the condition of Adam, as it very clearly appears to me, at the instant of his creation. He was in a state of perfect _innocency_; having neither transgressed the law of God, nor attained to true holiness. And if this be the case, then in regard to such a moral agent, before he has an opportunity to act, or to think, or to feel, it is not "the same thing to be perfectly innocent, as to be, perfectly righteous;" nor the same thing to be destitute of true righteousness, as to be sinful. It strikes my mind with the force of a self-evident truth, that nothing can be our virtue, unless we are in some sense the author of it; and to affirm that a man may be justly praised or blamed, that he may be esteemed virtuous or vicious, on account of what he has wholly and exclusively received from another, appears to me to contradict one of the clearest and most unequivocal dictates of reason, one of the most universal and irreversible laws of human belief. Though the Almighty endowed Adam with all that is lovely in human nature, the recipient of such noble qualities certainly deserved no credit for them, as he had no agency in their production. All the praise and glory belonged to God. Such dispositions are no doubt the objects of our admiration and love, but they are no more the objects of our _moral approbation_ than is the beauty of a flower. Both are the work of the same creative energy which hath diffused so much of loveliness and beauty over every part of the creation. Hence, I deny that Adam was "created or brought into existence righteous." I am willing to admit, that he "was brought into existence capable of acting immediately as a moral agent; and, therefore, he was immediately under a rule of _right_ action. He was obliged as soon as he existed, to _act right_." But I deny that until he did begin to act, he could possess the character of true holiness or virtue. That President Edwards thought otherwise, is evident, not only from the passage already quoted, but also from many others, as well as from the fact, that he argues if Adam had not possessed virtuous dispositions before he began to act,--if he had not derived them directly from his Creator, then the existence of virtue would have been impossible. On this subject, his argument is ingenious and plausible. It is as follows: "It is agreeable to the sense of men, in all nations and ages, not only that the fruit or effect of a good choice is virtuous, but that the good choice itself from whence that effect proceeds, is so; yea, also the antecedent good disposition, temper, or affection of mind, from whence proceeds that _good_ choice, is virtuous. This is the general notion--not that principles derive their goodness from actions, but--that actions derive their goodness from the principles whence they proceed; so that the act of choosing what is good, is no further virtuous, than it proceeds from a good principle, or virtuous disposition of mind. Which supposes that a virtuous disposition of mind, may be before a virtuous act of choice; and that, therefore, it is not necessary there should first be thought, reflection, and choice, before there can be any virtuous disposition. If the choice be first, before the existence of a good disposition of heart, what is the character of that choice? There can, according to our natural notions, be no virtue in a choice which proceeds from no virtuous principle, but from mere self-love, ambition, or some animal appetite: therefore, a virtuous temper of mind may be before a good act of choice, as a tree may be before the fruit, and the fountain before the stream which proceeds from it," p. 407. It is true, that actions derive their good or evil quality, as the case may be, from the principles whence they proceed. This accords, as the author truly says, with the universal sentiment of mankind. But this proposition, plain and simple as it appears to be at first sight, may be misunderstood. The term "principle" is ambiguous; and, according to the idea attached to it, the above proposition may be true or false. When it is said, for example, that a vicious or sinful action derives its evil quality from the principle or motive whence it proceeds, I apprehend that no one pretends to fix the brand of condemnation on the implanted principle, or the natural spring of action, from which it is supposed to proceed. To take the very case in question; our first parents, in eating the forbidden fruit, acted partly from a desire of food and partly from a desire of knowledge. Now, this was a sinful action, because forbidden, and consequently, according to the sense of men in all ages and nations, it must have proceeded from a sinful inclination or principle. But yet no one, I presume, will contend that either the desire of food or the desire of knowledge, from which it is supposed to have proceeded, is in itself sinful. They were implanted in our nature by the finger of God, for wise and beneficent purposes; and to assert that they are sinful, is to make God the author of sin. Our first parents were not to blame because they were endowed with these principles. Hence, when it is said, that a sinful action must proceed from a sinful principle, we are not to understand the proposition as meaning that the inherent constitutional principle of action from which it is supposed to proceed is sinful. Our first parents sinned, not in possessing an appetite for food, or a desire for knowledge, but in indulging these contrary to the will of God. It was their _intention_ and _design_ to do that which God had commanded them not to do, and which they knew it was wrong for them to do. It was this intention and design, which was certainly not an implanted principle, or any part of the work of the Creator, which constituted their sin; and it is this intention and design that is pointed at, when it is said, that the principle or motive from which their transgression proceeded, was a sinful principle or motive. And hence, we very clearly perceive, that a sinful action may result from those principles of our constitution, which are in themselves neither virtuous nor vicious, which are wholly destitute of any moral character whatever. So, in like manner, a virtuous action may result from a principle of our nature, implanted in the human breast by the Author of our being, although such principle may not, properly speaking, be called a virtuous principle, or an object of moral approbation. The fallacy of the author's argument, I conceive, has arisen from the ambiguity of the term principle. As it is truly said, that a holy action can proceed only from a holy principle or disposition, he concluded, that if man had not been created with a principle of virtue or holiness in his heart, then no such thing as virtue or holiness could ever have found its way into the world. Supposing, all the time, that it is universally considered that a virtuous act could proceed only from an implanted principle of virtue, of which God alone is the author; whereas, in fact, the virtuous principle from which the virtuous act is supposed to derive its character, is not an implanted principle at all, but the design, or intention, or motive with which the act is done; and of which the created agent is himself the author. There is one thing well worthy of remark in this connexion. President Edwards contends, as we have seen, that Adam must have been created with a principle of virtue, of which his Maker was the sole author, or else the existence of virtue would have been impossible, And yet, he contends that Adam was created perfectly free from sin;--that as he came from the hand of his Maker, he was perfectly pure and holy, without the least stain or blemish of any wrong or vicious principle upon his nature. Is it not wonderful, that it did not occur to so acute a reasoner as the author of the "Inquiry," that if his own argument was sound, it would, according to his own principle, prove the introduction of sin into the world to be utterly impossible? That he did not see, if it is impossible to account for the existence of holiness, except on the supposition that man was created or brought into the world with a principle of holiness implanted in his heart; so, for the same reason, it is equally impossible to account for the existence of sin, except on the supposition that a sinful principle was implanted in the breast of man by the hand of his Maker? The above extract, by which Edwards endeavours to prove that Adam could not have performed a virtuous act, unless a virtuous principle had been planted in his nature by the Creator, would be just as correct and conclusive, if we were to read vicious instead of virtuous. By the very same argument, we might prove that he could not have sinned, and so sin would have been impossible, unless God had planted a sinful principle or disposition in his nature. It is sufficiently evident, that President Edwards' idea of the essence of virtue, was not altogether correct, and that he was led to adopt it by the necessities of a false system. For if we admit that the essence of virtue or of sin consists in its nature, and not in its cause or origin, it must be conceded, on the other hand, that the nature of those principles, or dispositions, or volitions, or habits, (call them what we may,) which are termed virtuous or vicious, depend in a very important sense upon their cause or origin. It must be conceded, that no disposition or principle whatever which has derived its origin wholly from any cause or power extraneous to the moral agent in which it exists, can be properly denominated virtuous or vicious. It cannot partake of the nature of virtue or of vice, unless it owes its origin to the agent whose virtue or whose vice it is supposed to be. If it proceeds wholly from the "power, influence, or action," of motives, or from the hand of the Creator, it is not the act of the agent in whom it exists, and consequently he is not accountable for it. Or, in other words, the nature of virtue and vice is such, that they cannot possibly be produced by any "cause, or power, or influence," which is wholly extraneous to the mind in which they exist. Virtue and vice, in the strict and proper sense of the words, must have the concurrence and consent of the mind in which they exist, or they cannot possibly exist at all. To speak of virtue,--of that which deserves our moral approbation, as being wholly derived from another--as being exclusively the work of God in the soul, is to be guilty of a contradiction, as plain and palpable as the light of heaven. It is to be regretted, it is to be deeply lamented, that Edwards did not try to bring his doctrine of the will into harmony with the common sentiments of mankind with respect to the nature of virtue and free-agency, instead of exerting his matchless powers to make virtue and free-agency agree with his scheme of necessity, by explaining away and transforming their natures. It is to be lamented; because in attempting to uphold and support the distinctive peculiarities of his own system of theology, he has unintentionally struck a deadly blow at the vital and fundamental principles of all religion, both natural and revealed. The infidel and the atheist are much indebted to him for such an exertion of his immortal powers. SECTION XVI. OF THE SELF-DETERMINING POWER. THE advocates of free-agency have contended that the will is determined by itself, and not by the strongest motive. This is the ground which, so far as I know, has always been taken against the doctrine of necessity; but it may be questioned whether it is tenable, and whether the friends of moral agency might not have made far greater headway against their adversaries if they had not assumed such a position. It appears to be involved in several inevitable contradictions; in the exposure of which the necessitarian has been accustomed to triumph. The leading argument of Edwards against the self-determining power may be substantially stated in a few words. The will can be the cause of no effect, says he, except by acting, or putting forth a volition to cause it; and hence, if we assert that the will causes its own volitions, we must suppose it causes them by preceding volitions. It can cause a volition only by a prior volition, which, in its turn, can be caused only by another volition prior to it; and so on _ad infinitum_. Thus, according to Edwards, the self-determining power of the will necessarily runs out into the absurdity of an infinite series of volitions. If this reasoning is just, the doctrine in question must be abandoned; for no sound doctrine can lead to such a conclusion. But is it just? Does such an absurdity really flow from the self-determining power of the will? It has been objected to the argument of Edwards, that it is based on a false assumption. The position of Edwards, "that if the will determines itself, it must determine itself by an act of choice," is, it has been contended, clearly an assumption unsupported, and incapable of being supported. The reason assigned for this objection is, that we do not know how any cause exerts itself in the production of phenomena; and consequently we have no right to assume that the will can cause its volitions only by volitions. In other words, as we do not know how any cause produces its effects, so it is wholly a gratuitous assumption to say, that if the will causes its volitions, it must cause them in this particular manner, that is, by preceding acts of volition. This objection does not seem to be well taken. When we say, that the will is the cause of any thing, we do not really mean that the will itself is the cause of it; for the will itself does not act: it is not an agent, it is merely the power of an agent. It is that power by which the mind acts. Hence, when the will is said to cause a thing, the language must either have no intelligible meaning, or it must be understood to mean, that the mind causes it by an exercise of its power of willing. But to say that the mind causes a thing by an exercise of its power of willing, is to say that it causes it by an act of the will or a volition; which brings us to the assumption of Edwards. Hence, if the language that "the will causes its own volitions" means any thing, it must mean what Edwards supposes it does. That is, if the will causes its volition, or rather, if the mind in the act of willing causes them, then they must be caused by volitions or acts of the will. It is said, that "we do not know _how_ any cause acts." This is very true, when properly understood; but in the true sense of this maxim, Edwards has not undertaken to explain how a cause acts; nor has he made any assumption as to how it acts. The _term_ cause has a variety of meanings; and it is frequently applied with extreme vagueness and want of precision. What is the cause of an effect?--of the motion of the hand, for example? It is the mind, says one; it is the will, says another; it is a volition, replies a third. Now here are three distinct things,--the mind, the will, and the volition; and yet each is said to be the cause of the same identical effect. This diversity of expression may do very well in popular discourse, but it must be laid aside whenever philosophical precision is required. What is then, really and properly speaking, the cause of the motion in question? It is neither the mind, nor the will; for these might both exist, and yet no such effect result from them. A mind, or a will, that lies still and does not act, is the cause of no effect. If we would speak with philosophical precision, then, we should say that the act of the mind is the cause of the effect in question. The idea of a cause, in the strict and proper sense of the term, is that from which the effect immediately and necessarily flows. Now the motion of the hand is not necessarily connected with the mind itself; for if the mind were to lie still and not act, no such effect would follow. It is with the act of the mind that the effect in question is connected as with its efficient cause. It is the act of the mind which implies the motion of the hand, and that is implied by it; and hence, it is the act of the mind, or the volition, that is properly said to be the cause of such motion. For cause and effect, are said to imply each other. Now Edwards has not pretended to say how a volition acts upon the external part of our being; if he had done so, he would have been justly obnoxious to the charge of presuming to know how a cause acts, in the proper sense of the word; but he has done no such thing. The connexion between cause and effect, in the proper sense of the terms, he has left enveloped in profound mystery. He has not presumed to say how an act, or cause, properly so called, produces its corresponding effect. He does not assume to know how a cause acts; but how what is sometimes called a cause really becomes such. The will may be called a cause, if you please; but, in reality, unless it acts, it is the cause of no effect; and even then, properly speaking, the act is the cause. He clearly saw that a will which lies still and does nothing, is the cause of no effect; and hence he stated the simple fact, that it must act in order to become a cause, or, which is the same thing, in order to produce an effect. And is not this perfectly self-evident? We do not know how the will acts, nor how its act produces a change in the external part of our being; but yet do we not certainly know, that a dormant will can do nothing, and that it must act in order to produce an effect. If this be to explain how a cause acts, I humbly conceive that we may do so with perfect propriety. Indeed, all that is assumed by Edwards, has been conceded to him by most of his adversaries. Thus says Dr. West, as quoted by Edwards the younger, "No being can become a cause, i. e. an efficient, or that which produces an effect, but by first operating, acting, or energizing." Here we are told, not how a cause acts, but how the mind becomes a cause, or the author of effects. This is all that Edwards takes for granted; and, for aught that I can see, he has done so with perfect propriety. The same thing is conceded by Dr. Reid. "The change," says he, "whether it be of thought, of will, or of motion, is the effect. Active power, therefore, is a quality in the cause, which enables it to produce the effect. And the exertion of that active power in producing the effect, is called action, agency, efficiency. In order to the production of any effect, there must be in the cause, not only power, _but the exertion of that power_."--Essays on the Active Powers, p. 259. Here it is declared by Dr. Reid, that active power or the will must act, in order to produce an effect, whether the effect be in the mind itself, or out of the mind, whether it be "of thought, of will, or of motion." This is all that Edwards assumes as the basis of his argument. But the question is not so much what has been conceded, as what is true. Is it true, then, that if the will causes its own volitions, it can cause them only by preceding volitions? It is, as we have already seen, according to the common acceptation of the terms; for a dormant cause can produce no effect; it must act in order to produce effects. Edwards has truly said, that "if the will be determined, there is a determiner. This must be supposed to be intended even by those that say the will determines itself. If it be so, the will is both determiner and determined; it is a cause that acts and produces effects upon itself, and is the object of its own influence and action." p. 19. Now, whatever may be the meaning of those who choose to affirm that the will determines itself, admitting that it is both determined and determiner; the conclusion of Edwards seems to be fairly drawn from the language in which their doctrine is expressed. To say the least, he fairly reduces the obvious meaning of their language to the absurdity of an infinite series of volitions. If the phrase, that the will is determined by itself, has any meaning, it must mean, either that the will is made to act by a preceding act of the will, or that the will simply acts. If the meaning be, that the act or choice of the will is produced by a preceding act of the will, then is the inference of Edwards well drawn, and the self-determining power is involved in the aforesaid _ad infinitum_ absurdity. But if the meaning be, that the will simply acts, why not present the idea in this its true and unambiguous form? It is evident, that while the will remains inactive, it can produce no effect; it must act, in order to become the author of effects. The effect caused, and the causative act, are clearly distinct; the one produces the other. If the causative act is a volition, then we have an infinite series of volitions. And if it be not a volition, but some other effort of the mind, the same difficulty arises; for if it be necessary to suppose a preceding effort of the mind in order to account for a volition, it will be equally necessary to suppose the existence of another effort to account for that; and so on _ad infinitum_. And an infinite series of efforts is just as great an absurdity as an infinite series of volitions. Now let us suppose that, in order to escape these difficulties, an advocate of the self-determining power should deny that there is any causative act of volition; but that volition is itself an act uncaused by any preceding act. According to this view, what does the self-determining power amount to? It amounts to just this, that the will itself acts,--a position which is as freely recognized by Edwards as it could possibly be by the warmest advocate of the self-determining power. If this be all that is meant by self-determination, why not state the simple fact that the will itself acts, in plain English, instead of going about to envelope it in a mist of words? If this be all that is meant, why not state the thing so that it may be acquiesced in by the necessitarian, instead of keeping up such a war of words? Indeed, it appears plain to me, that the assertion that the will is determined by itself, is either false doctrine, or else the language in which it is couched is not a clear and distinct expression of its own meaning. On either supposition, this mode of expression should be abandoned. I have long been impressed with the conviction, that the self-determining power, as it is generally understood, is full of inconsistencies. While we hold this doctrine, we cannot with a good grace contend that the motive-determining power is involved in the absurdity of an infinite series of causes; for we ourselves are involved in it. Nor can we very well maintain that "a necessary agent is no agent at all;" for the necessitarian will reply, as he always does, that according to our own scheme, our actions are caused; and hence, if it be absurd to speak of a caused action, this is equally true, whether the cause be intrinsic or extrinsic. Moreover, if we should complain that, according to the necessitarian, the phenomena of the will are involved in the "mechanism of cause and effect," he will be sure to reply, that the same thing is true according to our own scheme, inasmuch as we admit volition to be an effect, and place it under the dominion of an internal cause. These difficulties, as well as some others, have always encumbered the cause of free and accountable agency; just because it has been supposed to consist in the self-determining power of the will. We should, therefore, abandon this doctrine. If Clarke, and Price, and Reid, and West, have not been able to maintain it without running into such inconsistencies, it is high time it should be laid aside forever. It has always been taken for granted that the will is determined. The use of this word clearly implies that the will is acted upon, either by the will itself, or by something else. It has been conceded, on all sides, that it is determined; and the only controversy has been, as to what is the determiner. It is determined by the strongest motive, says one; it is determined by itself, says another; and upon these two positions the combatants have arranged themselves. But behind all this controversy, there is a question which has not been agitated; and that is, whether the will is determined at all? For my part, I am firmly and fully persuaded that it is not, but that it simply determines. It is the "determiner," but not the "determined." It is never the object of its own determination. It acts, but there is no causative act, by which it is made to act. This position, I trust, has been made good in the preceding pages. If we say that the will is determined by itself, this implies that it is determined in the passive voice, at the same time that it determines in the active voice; whereas, in reality, it is simply active, and not passive to the action of any thing, in its determinations. We should not say, then, that the mind is self-determined, but simply that it is self-active. On this ground we may securely rest in our opposition to the scheme of necessity. It can never be shown that it is involved in the absurdity of an endless series of causes; it will remain for the necessitarian alone to extricate himself from that absurdity. That the mind is self-active, I have already shown, by showing that it is absurd to suppose that an act of the mind is produced by the action of any thing upon it. It is right here, then, upon the self-activity of the human mind, that we take our stand, in order to plant the lever which shall heave the scheme of moral necessity from its foundations. It is right here that we find our stronghold; that we erect the bulwark and the fortifications of man's free-agency, against which, as against a wall of adamant, all the shafts of the necessitarian will fall blunted to the earth, or else recoil with destructive force upon himself. But why fight against the doctrine of those who have laboured in the same great cause with myself? Truly, most truly, not because it is a grateful task, but because it is a deep and earnest conviction, wrought into my mind by the meditation of years, that the great and glorious cause of free-agency has been retarded by some of the errors of its friends, more than by all the truths of its enemies. This has appeared to be the case especially in regard to the self-determining power of the will. It seems to have retained its hold upon the mind of its friends, not so much by its intrinsic merits, as by its denial of moral necessity, and the idea that it is the only mode of such denial. As the scheme of moral necessity has triumphed in the weakness of the self-determining power, so has the self-determining power resisted the siege of centuries, in the unconquerable energy of its opposition to the determining and controlling power of motives. And if both have stood together, each deriving strength from the weakness of the other, is it not possible that both may fall together, and that a more complete and satisfactory scheme of moral agency may arise out of the common ruins? SECTION XVII. OF THE DEFINITION OF A FREE AGENT. HAVING shown, as I trust, that there is no influence whatever operating upon the mind to produce volition, I am now prepared to declare the true idea of a free-agent. A free-agent, then, is one who acts without being caused to act. Here the question arises, Is such a thing possible? Can any being act, without being caused to act? The answer to this question, depends upon the meaning which is attached to the very ambiguous term cause. If it means an efficient cause, or that which produces a thing by prior action or influence, it is possible for a spirit to act without being caused to do so; and, as we have already seen, if there can be no action without such a cause of its existence, then there must be an infinite series of actions or causes. But if the question be, Can an act arise and come into being, without a sufficient "ground and reason" of its existence? I answer, No. It is very necessary to separate the different questions included in the general one, Is not a volition caused? or has it not a cause? and to pass upon them separately. There is, I admit, a "sufficient ground and reason" for our actions; but not an _efficient_ cause of them. This is the all-important distinction which has been overlooked in the present controversy. Edwards frequently asks, if a volition is without a cause? Now we call for a division of this question. Has volition an efficient cause? I answer, No. Has it a "sufficient ground and reason" of its existence? I answer, Yes. No one ever imagined that there are no indispensable antecedents to choice, without which it could not take place; but Edwards has framed this question in such a manner, that we cannot give a categorical answer to it, without either denying our own doctrine, or else subscribing to his. Unless there were a mind, there could be no act of the mind; and unless the mind possessed a power of acting, it could not put forth volitions. The mind, then, and the power of the mind called will, constitute the ground of action or volition. But a power to act, it will be said, is not a sufficient reason to account for the existence of action. This is true. The _reason_ is to come. The sufficient reason, however, is not an efficient cause; for there is some difference between a blind impulse or force, and rationality. The mind is endowed with various appetites, passions, and desires,--with noble affections, and, above all, with a feeling of moral approbation and disapprobation. These are not the "active principles," or the "motive powers," as they have been called; they are the ends of our acting: we simply act in order to gratify them. They exert no influence over the will, much less is the will controlled by them; and hence, we are perfectly free, to gratify the one or the other of them;--to act in obedience to the dictates of conscience, or in order to gratify the lowest appetites of our nature. We see that certain means must be used, in order to gratify the passion, desire, affection, or feeling, which we _intend_ to gratify; and we act accordingly. In all this, we form our designs or _intentions_ free from all influence whatever: nothing acts upon the will: we fix upon the end, and we choose the means to accomplish it. We adapt the means to our end; because there is a fitness in them to accomplish that end or design; and because, as rational creatures, we perceive that fitness. Thus, we act according to reason, but not from the influence of reason. We act with a view to our desires, but not from the influence of our desires; and our volition is virtuous or vicious according to the intention with which it is put forth,--according to the design with which it is directed. Passion is not "the gale," it is "the card." Reason is not the force, it is the law. All the power resides in the free, untrammelled will. He who overlooks this, and blindly seeks for something to "move the mind to volition," loses sight of the grand and distinctive peculiarity of man's nature, and brings it down to the dust, subjecting it to the laws of matter and to bondage. We do not allow Mr. Hobbes to declare our idea of a free-agent, as "one that, when all the circumstances necessary to produce action are present, _can nevertheless not act_;" nor do we accept of the amendment, of another, "that a free-agent is one who, when all the circumstances necessary to produce action are present, _can act_." For if all the circumstances necessary _to produce_ action are present, then they would produce it; and nothing would be left for the will to do, except to receive the producing influence. In other words, if volition is produced by circumstances, then it is a passive impression made upon the will, and not an act at all. It is contended by Edwards, that it is just as absurd to say, that a volition can come into existence without a cause, as it is that a world should do so. It is true, that a world cannot arise out of nothing, and come into existence of itself; and this is also equally true of a volition. But is the mind nothing? Is the will nothing? Is a free, intelligent, designing cause nothing? The mind is something; and it is capable of acting in order to fulfil its own designs, though it be not impelled to act. Is this idea absurd? Is it self-contradictory? Is it any thing like the assertion, that an effect has no cause? It is not. It implies no contradiction;--it is a possible idea. How does it act, then? I do not know. This is a mystery. Indeed, every ultimate fact in man's nature, and every simple exercise of his intellectual powers, is a mystery. An exercise of the power of conception, by which the past is called up, and made to pass in review before us; an exercise of the imagination, by which the world is made to teem with wonders of our own creation; and an exercise of the will, by which we produce changes in, the external world; are all mysteries? Now, shall we fly from these mysteries? Shall we strive to make the matter plain, in a single instance, by assigning an efficient cause to an act of the will? If so, whether we escape the _mystery_ or not, we shall certainly plunge into _absurdity_. We shall embrace a doctrine, which denies the nature of action, and which is necessarily involved in the great absurdity of an infinite series of causes. For my part, I prefer a simple statement of the fact of volition, with its attendant circumstances, how much soever of mystery it may seem to leave around the subject, to any _explanation_ which involves it in absurdity. The philosophers of all ages have sought for the efficient cause of volition; but who has found it? Is it in the will? The necessitarian has shown the absurdities of this hypothesis. Is it in the power of motive? This hypothesis is fraught with the very same absurdities. Is it in the uncaused volition of Deity? The younger Edwards could do nothing with this hypothesis. In truth, the efficient cause of volition is nowhere. It has never been found, because it does not exist; and it never will be found, so long as an action of mind continues to be what it is. This, then, is the true idea of a free-agent: it is one who, in view of circumstances, both external and internal, can act, without being efficiently caused to do so. This is the idea of a free-agent which God has realized by the creation of the soul of man. It may be a mystery; but it is not a contradiction. It may be a mystery; but then it solves a thousand difficulties which we have unnecessarily created to ourselves. It may be a mystery; but then it is the only safe retreat from self-contradiction, absurdity, and atheism. It is no reason for disbelieving a thing, that we cannot conceive how it is. This will be readily admitted; but this principle, like every other, may be misapplied and abused. If any thing is possible in itself considered, that is, if it implies no contradiction, we should not refuse to believe it, because we cannot conceive how it is. When confined within these limits, the principle or maxim in question is one of immense importance; and to disregard it betrays one of the greatest weaknesses to which the human mind is exposed. If we do not adhere to it, there is no resting-place for us this side of the most unqualified atheism: we shall be compelled to renounce, not only the stupendous facts and mysteries of revelation, but also all the great truths of natural religion. The very being and attributes of God can find no place in our minds, if we expunge this principle from them; and insist upon seeing how every thing is, before we consent to receive it as an object of belief. We should find no difficulty, therefore, in believing that the mind of man acts, without being efficiently caused to act. This implies no contradiction; and hence the creative power of God can produce such a being--a being that acts freely, without labouring under any necessity, either natural or moral, in its accountable and moral agency. A being, the end of whose action is found in the sensibility; the intention, the design, and the plan of whose action is formed in the intelligence; and the power by which this intention is executed, and this plan accomplished, is in the will alone. It is in this triunity of the sensibility, the intelligence, and the will, that the glory of man's nature, as a free and accountable being, consists. The relation between them is most intimate,--is inconceivably intimate; but the relation is not the same in nature and kind as that which subsists between an effect and its efficient, or producing cause. The only relation of this kind, which is to be found in the case, is that which subsists between the action of the will, or the volition, and the corresponding change which it produces in the external part of our being. I say, we can very easily believe all this, as it implies no contradiction; and yet not feel ourselves bound, by a regard for consistency, to believe that a world may rise up out of nothing, and come into being of itself, without any cause of its existence. These things are blended together, in the philosophy of the necessitarian, by a most convenient use of an ambiguous phraseology; but they are, indeed, as widely different from each other as mystery is from absurdity,--as light is from darkness. But the above maxim, as I have already said, may be grievously misapplied; and thus the garb of intellectual humility may be thrown over the greatest absurdities. We may be told, for example, that the same body may be wholly in one place, and wholly in a far distant place, at one and the same time; and, if we object to this doctrine, the murmurings of reason are sought to be silenced, by reminding us, that it is exceedingly weak and presumptuous for poor blind creatures like ourselves, to reject a truth because we cannot conceive how it is. In like manner, we are informed that a volition, or an act of the will, may be produced in the mind, may be necessitated, by the action of an extraneous cause; or, if you please, of an intrinsic cause; and if we ask how this can be, without interfering with our free-agency, it is frequently replied, that we cannot tell; but that it is exceedingly absurd and presumptuous to disbelieve a thing because we cannot conceive how it is. That God operates upon the mind, not to rectify and elevate its powers, but to produce a volition in it; not to cleanse and purify the whole stream and current of our natures, but merely to throw up a bubble upon the surface thereof, for which _effect_ he holds us accountable: that he does this, we are told, is a great mystery, which we should not presume to call in question. For my part, I had rather believe the doctrine of transubstantiation itself, than such a _mystery_ as this. There is some difference, I have supposed, between disbelieving a thing because we cannot see how it is, and disbelieving it, because we very clearly see that it cannot possibly be any how at all. It is upon this distinction that I stand, when I receive the great mysteries of the Godhead, and reject the absurdities of transubstantiation. And it is upon the same ground, that I most freely and fully recognize and embrace the great mysteries of our being, whilst I reject the absurdities of an efficiently caused and accountable agency. Is not this distinction properly applied? If the action or influence of any thing produces an effect upon the mind, is not that effect merely a passive impression? Is it not absurd to suppose, that it is a passive impression, produced by the action of something else, and yet that it is an action of the mind itself? If so; and so I think it has been made to appear, then we not only should, but must, reject it. We must reject it, unless we suffer ourselves to be blinded by false analogies, and verbal ambiguities. This is not to deny the divine influence, as has been so often imagined. The regeneration, the new creation, of the soul, by the power of God, is no more inconsistent with free and accountable agency, than was the original creation of it with all its powers; but this cannot be said of the production of our acts or volitions by a divine influence. Those must take an exceedingly narrow and superficial view of the great work of regeneration; who suppose that it is altogether denied, unless we admit that the Spirit produces our volitions; who suppose that the divine agency can in no way cleanse and purify our powers, unless it can superinduce a volition, or an act, upon our depraved natures. How many persons have laboured in vain, to reconcile the free-agency of man with the reality of a divine influence; just because they have laboured under the superficial notion, the grand illusion, that the Spirit of God cannot act upon the mind at all, unless it acts to produce a volition! It is no wonder that they have laboured in vain, and abandoned the task in despair; because what they have taken for a seeming difficulty, is, when narrowly inspected, seen to be a real absurdity. Lay this aside, and there will be a mystery in the case, it is true; but there will not be _even a seeming contradiction_. But I do not intend to enter upon the subject of theology. This is entirely beside the purpose of the present work; and if I have touched upon it for a moment, it was only to show, by a passing glance, how very easy it were for any one, if he were so disposed, to draw false conclusions with respect to theology, from the views which have been advanced in regard to the philosophy of the will. True, philosophy and religion will always perfectly harmonize; but then he is very apt to be a poor philosopher, who derives his philosophy from his religion; and he a miserable theologian, who derives his religion from his philosophy. It was in that way, that Edwards became a necessitarian; it is in this, that many a necessitarian has become an infidel or an atheist. SECTION XVIII. OF THE TESTIMONY OF CONSCIOUSNESS. WHETHER our volitions come to pass in the manner we call freely, or are brought to pass by the operation of necessary causes, is a question of fact, which should be referred to the tribunal of consciousness. If we ever hope to settle this question, we must occasionally turn from the arena of dialectics, and unite our efforts in the cultivation of the much-neglected field of observation. We must turn from the dust and smoke of mere logical contention, and consult the living oracle within; we must behold the pure light that ever burns behind the darkened veil of disputation. This appeal is not declined by the necessitarian. He consents to the appeal; and the dispute is, as to the true interpretation of the decision of the tribunal in question. We contend that the testimony of consciousness is clearly and unequivocally in favour of the doctrine of liberty, while our opponents allege the same evidence in their own favour. Now, what is the real import of this testimony? It is to be regretted that President Edwards has said so little on this subject. He has disposed of it in one brief note; as if the nature of our mental operations were to be determined by abstract and universal propositions, or truisms, and observation consulted only to confirm our preconceived opinions. What little he has said on this subject, however, is sufficient to show with what faint hope of success the necessitarian can venture to submit his cause to the tribunal of consciousness. The testimony of consciousness, I have no doubt, might have been made much stronger in our favour, if the wrong question had not been submitted to it. All the advocates of free-agency, so far as I remember, have said that we are conscious of freedom; that we are conscious of a power of contrary choice. Or, in other words, that when we put forth a volition, we are conscious that we might forbear to do so. But this does not seem to be the case. We are not conscious of what does not take place in our minds; and hence, we are only conscious of the volition which we put forth. We are not even conscious of our power to act; this is necessarily inferred from the acts of which we are conscious. As we do not then, according to the supposition, put forth the contrary choice, we cannot be conscious of it, nor of the power to put it forth. By referring this, therefore, to the tribunal of consciousness, it seems to me that most advocates of free-agency have rendered a disservice to the cause which they have so ably supported in other respects. For the necessitarian sees, that the doctrine of liberty, or the power of choice to the contrary, cannot be established by the direct testimony of consciousness alone; and hence he strengthens himself in his own convictions, by picking flaws in our evidence. He sees that we are not borne out by the testimony of consciousness, in regard to the point which we submit to it; and hence, he readily concludes that we are wrong in the whole matter. It is well, it is exceedingly important, to observe what are the strong points of our cause, upon which we can rest with unshaken confidence, and to take our stand upon them; giving up all untenable positions. By consciousness, then, we discover the existence of an act. We see no cause by which it is produced. If it were produced by the act or operation of any thing else, it would be a passive impression, and not an act of the mind itself. The mind would be wholly passive in relation to it, and it would not be an act at all. Whether it is produced by a preceding act of the mind, or by the action of any thing else, the mind would be passive as to the effect produced. But we see, in the clear and unquestionable light of consciousness, that instead of being passive, the mind is active in its volitions.--Hence, it follows by an inference as clear as noonday, and as irresistible as fate, that the action of the mind is not a produced effect. It is not a passive impression; and hence it does not, _it cannot_, result from the action of any thing else. To say that it is produced by the action of something else upon the mind, is to say that it is a passive impression, and to deny that it is an act. We are simply conscious of an act then, and the irresistible inference which results from this fact, stands out in direct and eternal opposition to the doctrine of necessity. When we reflect upon the operation of the will, or of the mind in the act of willing, we simply find ourselves in possession of a volition. We do not see how we come by this volition; how we come to exist in this state of activity. On this point, I am happy to find that the consciousness of President Edwards agreed with my own. "It is true," says he, "I find myself possessed of my volitions before I can see the effectual power of any cause to produce them, for the power and efficacy of the cause is seen but by the _effect_, and this, for aught I know, may make some imagine that volition has no cause, or that it produces itself." Our consciousness is precisely the same; but just observe how he interprets it. He finds himself possessed of a _volition_; but does he look at this volition to see what it is? Does he ask himself whether it is the same in nature and in kind with a produced effect? He does not. It is most unquestionably a produced effect; this is beyond all doubt, and it is taken for granted. He sees no effectual power by which this volition is produced; _but he knows it is a produced effect_, and therefore he knows it must have a producing cause. The oracle is not consulted on this point at all. It would be an insult to reason to consult the great oracle of nature on so plain a point as this. This has been decided long ago, and the ear is deaf to any response that might possibly contravene so clear a decision. Thus it is that the necessitarian goes to the true oracle within, and delivers oracles himself. He reasons not from the observed, but from the assumed, nature of a volition. It must be an effect, says he, and though I do not see "the effectual power by which it is produced;" yet there must be such a power. Yes, it is just as absurd to suppose that it can exist, without being produced by the effectual power of something operating upon the mind, as it is to suppose that a world can create itself! But as we appeal to consciousness, let us pay some little attention to its teaching. We find ourselves, then, possessed of a volition; we find our minds in a state of acting. This is all we discover by the light of consciousness. We see "not the effectual power of any cause" operating to produce it. What shall we conclude then? Shall we conclude that there _must_ be some cause to produce it? This were not to study nature, as "the humble servants and interpreters thereof;" but to approach it in the attitude of dictators. If we draw such an inference at all, it must be from the fact, it seems, that volition is a produced effect. But is it such an effect? What says consciousness upon this point? We have already repeatedly seen, what every man may see, that a volition is not the passive result of any prior action; it is action itself. It is not a produced effect; it is a producing cause. It is not _determined_ at all; it is simply a _determination_. As it stands out in the light of consciousness, it is as perfectly distinct from the idea of an effect, as any one thing can possibly be from another; and if it has not so appeared to every reflecting mind, it is because it has not been simply looked at, and beheld as it is in itself, but has been viewed through the medium of a certain fixed notion, a certain preconceived form of thought, a certain grand illusion, by which the witchery of the senses has blinded the eye of consciousness. Every change in the external world requires a producing cause; who then can possibly conceive of a volition as existing upon any other terms or conditions! It is this fallacy, this begging of the question, this perpetual declaration that it is self-evident, that has, through a natural illusion of the senses, spread the scheme of necessity far and wide over the minds of men. It is this grand illusion of the senses, or, if you please, of the mind, that has brought "the dictates of reason," as they have been called, into conflict with the testimony of consciousness. The doctrine of liberty is as inevitably connected with the _observed_ nature of a volition, as that of necessity is connected with its assumed nature. I would not say that we are conscious of liberty; for that would not be correct; but I will say, that we are conscious of that which necessarily leads to the conviction that we are free, that we have a power of contrary choice. I would not say with Dr. Clarke, that liberty consists in a power to act; but I will say, that it necessarily results from it. I would not say, that we are conscious of the existence of no producing cause of our volitions; for we cannot be conscious of that which does not exist. But I will say, that as we are conscious of the existence of an act, so we see and do know that this is not a passive impression, or a produced effect. And as we are not compelled to act, so we know that we may act or may not act, so we know that our actions are not necessitated, but may be put forth or withheld. This is liberty, this is "a power of contrary choice." This idea of liberty, I say, follows from the fact of consciousness that we do act, by an inference as clear as noonday; by an inference so natural, so direct, and so inconceivably rapid, that it has often been supposed to be included in the testimony of consciousness itself. No man could help the conclusion, if he would only allow his reason to speak for itself. Is this doctrine any the less certain, because it is a matter of inference? It will be conceded that it is not. The most unquestionable facts in the universe are made known by the same kind of evidence. It is sometimes said, that we are conscious of our own existence; but this is not to use language with philosophical precision. We are merely conscious of the existence of thought, of feeling, of volition; and we are so made, that we are compelled to believe that there is something which thinks, and feels, and wills. It is thus, by what has been called a fundamental law of belief, that we arrive at the knowledge of the existence of our minds. In like manner, from the fact of consciousness that we do act, or put forth volitions, we are forced, by a fundamental law of belief, to yield to the conviction that we are free. This inference as necessarily results from the observed phenomena of the mind, as the existence of the mind itself results from the same phenomena. And if the doctrine of the necessitarian were true, that volition is a produced effect, we should never infer from it that we have _a power of acting_ at all; we should simply infer that we are _susceptible of passive impressions_. I have said, that we are not conscious that there is no producing cause of volition. No man can be conscious of that which does not exist. Hence, it is highly absurd to require us to furnish the evidence of consciousness that there is no such cause of volition. It cannot testify to any such universal negative; and one might as well require a mathematical demonstration of the point in dispute, as to demand such evidence from us. And yet, President Edwards declares, that by experience he knows nothing like the doctrine, that "any volition arises in his mind contingently;" that is to say, he was not conscious that a volition has _no producing_ cause of its existence. Did he expect that we should prove the non-existence of a thing by the direct evidence of consciousness? All that he could reasonably expect in such a case is, that we should not be conscious of any such influence; and this President Edwards himself admits. He admits, that we do not see the "effectual power of any cause," or feel its influence, operating to produce a volition: he merely infers this from the assumption that volition is a produced effect. He also says, I find "that the acts of my will are my own; i. e. that they are acts of my will--the volitions of my own mind; or, in other words, that what I will, I will; which, I suppose, is the sum of what others experience in this affair." Surely, no one was ever so silly as to deny that what a man wills, he wills; and if this is all that consciousness teaches on the subject, its information can throw no light upon this or upon any other controversy. This proposition, that a man wills what he wills, is independent of all experience and all consciousness. It is an identical proposition, which experience can neither shake nor confirm. We may see, nay, we must see, that each and every thing in the universe is what it is, without any reference to consciousness or experience. Indeed, it is as absurd to appeal to experience or consciousness for the truth of such a universal and self-evident axiom, as it is to appeal to universal and self-evident axioms, to ascertain and determine the _nature_ of our mental phenomena,--of the states and processes of the mind. Edwards has done both: he has deduced the truth of the proposition, that a man wills what he wills, from the evidence of consciousness or experience, as the sum of all its teaching; and he has established the fact, that a volition is produced by the operation of an effectual power, by an appeal to a universal axiom. He has submitted a truism, which declines every test of its truth, to the tribunal of consciousness; and he has determined the nature of a volition, as well as the manner of its production, by the application of a similar truism, which contains no conceivable information respecting the nature of any thing in the universe. Edwards says, "I find myself possessed of my volitions." He was conscious of his own acts. This is a sufficient foundation for the doctrine of liberty; for such a consciousness is utterly irreconcilable with the supposition that those acts are produced by the operation of efficient causes. To say that they are "my acts," and yet to say that they are produced by the action of something else, is, as we have repeatedly seen, to say that they are my acts, and at the same time to say that they are not my _acts_, but _effects_ produced upon my mind. This very admission, therefore, lays the foundation of the doctrine of liberty. And hence, it has been supposed that Edwards himself was an advocate of this doctrine; because he has spoken of the soul as exerting its own volitions. From such an admission, it has been concluded by some of his admirers, that he really regarded the mind as the "efficient cause of its own acts," and "motives as merely the occasions on which it acts." But such an admission only proves, that his consciousness cannot be reconciled with his theory. His consciousness lays the foundation of liberty; but he does not build thereon. On the contrary, he lays the foundation of his system in universal abstractions, and not in observed facts; and hence, as it is not derived from an observation of nature, so it can never be brought into harmony with the dictates and operations of nature. It is altogether a thing of definitions and words; and as such it must pass away, when men shall cease to construct for themselves, and come forward as "the humble servants and interpreters of nature," to study the world of mind upon the true principles of the inductive method. Edwards did not observe the intellectual world just as it has been constructed by the Almighty, and narrowly watch it in its workings; he only reasoned about it and about it; and hence, he was necessarily devoted to blindness. With all his gigantic power, he was necessarily compelled to go around, eternally, upon the treadmill of a merely dialectical philosophy, which of itself can yield no fruit, instead of going forth to the harvest upon the rich and boundless field of discovery. Why should the failure of other times, resulting from such a course, inspire us with despair? We hope for better results, not from better minds, but from better methods. Socrates dissuaded the men of his time from the study of nature, alleging that "the wonderful art" wherewith the heavens had been constructed, was concealed from their eyes; and that it was displeasing to the gods, that men should so vainly strive to pry into mysteries which are so far above their reach. Faint-hearted sage! Though Bacon had beheld the genius and labour of two thousand years after Socrates had been laid in the dust, wasted upon the same great problem, yet did not the unconquerable ardour of his hope droop for a moment. Rising aloft, even from the wild waste which men had made of their powers in all times past, he poured down the floods of his indignation upon those who are thus ready and willing to devote mankind to darkness and despair. Inspired by his philosophy, and pursuing his method, the more than immortal Newton did not fear, cautiously yet boldly, humbly yet hopefully, to pry into "the wonderful art" wherewith the Almighty has constructed the heavens; and the great problem which Socrates had so timidly, yet so rashly, pronounced to lie beyond the reach of man, did this humble student of nature most triumphantly solve; showing, to the admiration of the world and the glory of God, that that wonderful art is infinitely more wonderful than any thing which had ever been dreamed of in the philosophy of antiquity. How great soever, then, the failure of times past may have been, we should not despair. Nor should we listen, for a moment, to those who are ever ready to declare, that the great problem of the intellectual system of the universe is not within the reach of the human faculties. _Note_.--The edition of Edwards' works quoted in this volume, is that by G. & C. & H. Carvill, New York, 1830. 
36891	----	Health, Healing, _and_ Faith Effect of Environment How a Church Was Built by Prayer Healing the Sick Prayer for the Home Prayer and the Bible _By_ RUSSELL H. CONWELL VOLUME 8 NATIONAL EXTENSION UNIVERSITY 597 Fifth Avenue, New York EFFECTIVE PRAYER ---- Copyright, 1921, by Harper & Brothers Printed in the United States of America FOREWORD That prayers are answered nearly all the human race believe. But the subject has been beclouded and often made ridiculous by inconsistent superstitions. This book is a modest attempt to clear up some of the errors. Its record is as accurate as impartial observation can make it. God is not bribed. Laziness cannot bargain with him. But the prayers of the righteous and of repentant sinners availeth much. Desired ends are gained by prayer which cannot be gained by any other method. The daily experiences of devout persons establish that fact conclusively. The reasons and the methods which produce the results seem hidden, and they often bewilder the investigator. God's thoughts are far above our thoughts. But we can trust our daily experience far enough to retain our confidence in the potency of prayer. It is, therefore, a profitable and comforting study. RUSSELL H. CONWELL. EFFECTIVE PRAYER Chapter I Effect of Environment The fascinating history of events connected with the Baptist Temple, Philadelphia, through thirty-nine years must be recorded carefully to obtain the credence of those readers who live out of the locality. It may or may not be that the unusual demonstrations of power, seemingly divine, were not incited or influenced by the special environment. Yet the critical reader may reasonably inquire where these things occurred in order to determine the power of association on the form and effect of prayer. The Baptist Temple is a somewhat imposing building on the corner of North Broad and Berks streets in Philadelphia. It is located almost at the geographical center of Philadelphia, and eighteen squares north of the City Hall. The Temple is architecturally very plain, and the beautiful stained-glass windows are about the only ornaments in the great hall save, of course, the pipes of the great organ. The church is one hundred and seven feet front, and is one hundred and fifty feet in length. There is a deep gallery occupying three sides, with a chorus gallery, back of the pulpit, seating one hundred and fifty singers. There are three thousand and thirty-four opera chairs arranged in a semicircle, and every person in the congregation can see clearly the platform and chorus, and each normal worshiper can be heard from the pulpit. The building itself is a testimonial to the effectiveness of sincere prayer. The Temple and the halls in the lower story, as it now stands, are far beyond the dreams of that little company of earnest worshipers who, in 1880, hesitatingly and embarrassed, began to build the small church at the corner of Berks and Mervine streets. They had no wealthy or influential friends. They had but little money or property; they could pray, and that they did do unceasingly. Any man who tries to describe or explain fully how it came about that the Temple was built becomes bewildered in the complications, unless he covers the whole question by saying, "The Lord did it." In six years after the small church was completed the Temple was begun on Broad Street. For seven or eight years after its construction the Temple was a Christian Mecca to which pilgrims seemed to come from all parts of the earth to kneel there in prayer. One Good Friday night, which was observed quite generally as a season of fasting and prayer, the writer entered by the side door the Temple at two o'clock in the morning, and in the dim light of two small gas jets, always left burning, he saw scores of people scattered through the church. Why that church had such a fascination for or preference with earnest seekers for the prayer-answering God none may explain. All were kneeling separately in silent prayer. As they passed in and out there were in the line, going and coming, Chinamen, Europeans, Orientals, and Americans from distant states. Different denominations, Protestant, Catholic, Jew, colored and white, were often represented among the individual worshipers. They also came any night in the week at any hour and prayed silently for a while and then went silently out. The church was not locked, night or day, for fifteen years. People sought the place when they sought to find a locality which was especially near to the Lord. It may be that any place is as near to God as any other; and many think it only a sentiment, superstitious and foolish, to esteem one place above another in matters of effective prayer. But there does stand out the fact that, for some good reason, our Saviour did choose to pray in special localities, and his devout followers do now feel more deeply the soul's communion with God in certain favorable places. Why the Baptist Temple had such worship as a sentimental matter brings forward the facts that the graves of the loved, the home of childhood, the trysting places, the old fireplace, or the churches where sainted parents worshiped are influential because of the suggestions which come with sacred memories. That fact is a strong agency in the awakening of tender and sacred emotions. But the Baptist Temple was new and could lay claim to none of those associations. Men and women with no religious habits, and some seemingly without devout inclinations, testified decidedly that whenever they visited the building they felt that they had entered into an atmosphere of special spiritual and sacred power. One soldier of the English army wrote an interesting letter in 1897, saying: "I do not recall any such impression before. I went into the church alone out of curiosity to look at its architectural design. But the moment I entered the side aisle I felt an indescribable pressure which made me desire to pray. I hurried out to the street to escape the solemn impression. But twice since then I have been in the auditorium and each time some power seemed pressing me down to my knees." Whether that influence was the act of the Holy Ghost or not cannot be proven by any known formula of human reasoning, and hence it remains, as most of such questions do, a matter of faith. Some believe it was a divine presence which made itself felt there, and other good men do not believe the conditions were in any way unusual or unnatural. So many persons with uncontrolled imaginations, and others with their mental faculties weakened or distorted, often reported the most improbable visions and absurd revelations. Such characters, half insane or wholly deranged, testified in favor of Jesus to his face, and such have ever been present since in every genuinely spiritual movement. They would do less harm, of course, if they should declaim against him. So it was, and is, at the Baptist Temple. Those inconsistent, deranged advocates of religion did often drive away permanently into the ranks of unbelievers the most sincere investigators. But a calm review of the testimonies concerning the occurrences which followed so clearly the petitions they offered in the Temple seems overwhelmingly to establish the claim, now held by so many thousand people, that the results of the prayers were but a cause and natural effect, as the prayers and results were infallibly related. It is not claimed here, however, that the place had more influence with man or Christ than other places have had, or that any church or cathedral may be as sacred as Gethsemane or as the Mount of Transfiguration. The plain facts are recorded here with great caution and with a determination to keep conservatively within the truth and draw no unreasonable conclusions. It is a true statement, known to all the community, that many thousands of people have sought to pray in the Temple, believing that the boon their hearts desired would be more sure to be sent if they asked for it within the Temple walls. Many persons have attended the church services on the Sabbath who have been so deep in prayer that they were unconscious of the music or the preaching. We must reassert that this fact is not recorded here to sustain any idea that the Temple is a sacred place above many other churches, cathedrals, and holy places, but to sustain the opinion that there are places more sacred than others to certain people, and that burdened hearts and minds would act wisely if they sought some such place when the answer to their prayer seems especially vital. Chapter II How a Church Was Built by Prayer In 1886 the small church at Mervine and Berks streets in the northern section of Philadelphia was crowded at every service. Children were turned away from every session of the Bible school, and tickets were issued a week in advance for the preaching services. The idea of moving to some larger place was discussed, as it was impossible to enlarge the building where it stood, because of the streets on three sides. Under those circumstances the people began to pray. A voluntary committee canvassed the small band of church members, asking each to pray for an opening to a larger work. It is often thought to be an easy thing to promise to pray for a person or for a cause. The promise to pray is too often made carelessly, and disinterested auditors often feel relieved of all responsibility when, instead of a collection, they are let off with a request to pray for the advocated cause. But a sincere promise to pray for a cause carries with it the sincere purpose to work and to give self-sacrificingly. To say, "We do not ask for your money, but only that you pray for us," is a half-hypocritical request, because a real prayer can ascend only from a soul intent on doing. To agree to pray is a hearty promise also to do all in one's power to work with the Lord. Only the hearty worker can really pray. "The people had a mind to work," said Nehemiah, and God, seeing their zeal, responded to their appeal. The Lord answered in a way absolutely unforeseen. The salvation of the world cost a great sacrifice, and everywhere we see the results of a mysterious law that some must die that others may live, and that real happiness is ever gained at the cost of suffering. A little child in Philadelphia opened the gates of the Temple by going down through death. She had been unable to get into the overcrowded Bible school one Sunday, and she began to save her pennies to help secure some larger place. Little Hattie May Wyatt, living in a home near the church, was chosen of God to convey his answer to the pleadings of that church. How little could the afflicted parents realize what a great work their sweet, prattling Hattie was to do in her short life. When the sweet, pale face lay in the coffin amid the flowers and tears, her pocketbook, containing fifty-seven cents which she had saved, was handed to the minister. She was the messenger of Christ on earth before she became one in heaven! That fifty-seven cents was a sacred treasure, and at the next church meeting prayers went up to God, asking direction how to invest the first gift toward the larger accommodations. Providentially, the subject of the Scripture text was the narrative of the little child with his five barley loaves and two little fishes (John vi). What can Christ do with the gift of a little child? What can the spirit of God do with the seed of an oak? One patriarch led in prayer and earnestly asked the Lord to "take these few pennies and build for us a temple." There were some in the assembly who, like the disciples at Galilee, said, "What can this little supply do among so many?" But the most part seemed inspired by the Holy Spirit with a faith that was immovable. The Lord then put a thought into the mind of Mr. John Baer, who owned a lot of land on the corner of Broad and Berks streets, to suggest to a member of the church that, as the people needed larger quarters, they ought to buy his lot and erect there a larger church. Mr. Baer did not know then that the church had only fifty-seven cents and that the church building they then occupied was still heavily mortgaged. Another church member heard of Mr. Baer's remark and, with the assurance of a faith unshakable, told Mr. Baer that if he would take fifty-seven cents as the first payment he felt sure the church would purchase it. Mr. Baer (a devout man) said that he would cheerfully accept the terms and that he would also not only give back the fifty-seven cents, but would contribute one thousand dollars toward the first payment on the lot. The church then purchased the lot and held another prayer meeting to determine the second time what to do with the Wyatt fifty-seven cents. It was unanimously decided to organize a "Wyatt Mite Society" to invest the money. There were to be fifty-seven children in the society, and each was to invest one of the pennies so as to secure the largest possible amount for the new church. It seems almost miraculous that wherever a child tried to sell the penny not one would buy it after hearing the story, but nearly all did give a liberal donation. One lady gave fifteen hundred dollars. Finally, the pennies all came back, were put in a coin frame, and kept as a sacred souvenir. Then joyful enthusiasm seized upon the people and hurried them along in many different enterprises for raising money. One Sabbath the pastor was overpersuaded to exchange with Doctor Pierce of Mount Holly, and the joyful people presented the pastor, on his return, with a subscription list of ten thousand dollars. But to that account the practical and critical business man can answer that in any enterprise enthusiasm, hard work, and economy secure success almost invariably. So that even the matter of raising one hundred and nine thousand dollars by a people, all poor, industrious persons, may not be absolutely convincing to the skeptic who questions the personal interference of God in answer to the call of his children. But there was another phase of the history of that campaign which seems to be absolutely unaccountable on any other hypothesis but the direct and special interference of superhuman intelligence. The number seven! It is called "a sacred number"; but why it has been credited with its peculiar significance is, perhaps, the effect of its mention so often in the Bible. The various theories, reasonable and fanciful, for the sacredness of the number seven need not be rehearsed in a record of simple facts like these which this account preserves. But the daily appearance of the number seven in the evangelistic history of the Grace Church through the five years and two months before the large Temple was completed has never been explained by any solution other than by accrediting it to some power or law above the normal. The "five years' meetings" were only the usual meetings of the small church and no evangelistic or unusual endeavors were used, nor were any special methods tried. Evangelists of noted power sometimes addressed the church or gave sermons at the church in connection with some convention or association, but none of those instrumentalities seemed to affect the answers to the prayers of the people. The church sessions were simple, practical, social, and fully democratic. But the prayers were full of faith and feeling and were brief and direct. One evening, in a meeting held in a small basement room, there were seven young people, strangers to one another, who stood up at the invitation to confess Christ. Each one stated that he had come under a strange and irresistible impulse unaccountable to him. Each asked the people to pray for his soul. That was the opening of the continuous stream of seven new converts each week for five years. That repetition of the number seven was not especially noticed until it had been repeated through several weeks. Then the people began to expect it, and during the active enterprises connected with the building of the new Temple it had a powerful effect on the courage and faith of that small company. As the years came and went with no change in that weekly number of fresh seekers after God, a feeling of awe held the worshipers to such an extent that when the seventh man or woman arose to come forward a deep sigh passed through the congregation. Sometimes the leader of the meeting paused or asked for "the hesitating one" if the full number did not at first appear. But there was no prearrangement and no attempt or purpose to cease giving the invitation to confess Christ after the number seven had been reached. The church was too deeply impressed with the seeming miracle to undertake any experiments with it. Continual prayer was all that was attempted. People ceased to ask their acquaintances to come to the meetings, and the usual revival methods were omitted. Real prayer, sincere singing, and a short comment on some verse of Scripture made up the usual order of services, aside from the regular preaching on Sunday. Various explanations of this mysterious and systematic manifestation of some hidden spiritual force have been advanced by students of the unusual occurrence. Some undevout friends have rested satisfied with the belief that it was only a coincidence or an accidental repetition of a natural phenomenon. The skeptic said that there was no mystery about it, as it merely "happened so." Others, more devout, declared that the people must have habitually "let go of their faith" when seven appeared, and that according to their faith "was the limitation of the numbers." Others believed that it must have been, consciously or unconsciously, arranged by persons managing the meeting, and not a few outsiders regarded the statement of the facts as a clear falsehood. They said it could not have been possible, and that there was surely some deception in the arrangements or reports. But the hundreds of intelligent and conscientious people who were present week after week became fully satisfied that it was the work of the Divine Spirit sent in answer to their prayers. Some of the circumstances connected with that large accession to the church will be of interest to the student. During the years when the building was being constructed many simple schemes were devised by the people to raise money for the work. But prayer was a part of every endeavor. Fairs, suppers, and concerts were often used to raise funds, and, although a worldly spirit often creeps into church entertainments, there came there a devotional spirit which seemed to transfigure every work. The devotional meetings held in a side hall when the church fairs were going on at the Academy of Music in Philadelphia ever had the same startling result--the unchangeable number, seven, came out for Christ. One evening a specially large number of citizens were at a dinner given to arrange plans for securing the money for the first payment to the contractor who was laying the foundation for the Temple. A visitor, in his speech, said that he had been more interested in the "steady revival," of which he had heard, than in the feast, and that he was quite disappointed to learn that for the first time in three years the church had omitted its weekly prayer meeting to give place to a dinner. Thereupon, Deacon Stoddard, a devout man and full of the Holy Ghost, arose and suggested that before the guests left the table the presiding officer should give the usual invitation for anyone to arise and declare his decision to follow Christ. After several eloquent and entertaining speeches on general topics the invitation was given for the religious confession, and, to the amazement of many, just seven young men arose. A deep, spiritual emotion filled the hearts of all present. In two or three instances the number was less than seven who responded before the benediction was pronounced, and some said, "The spell is broken." But in all cases another seeker after God appeared before the people left the room. Men, in those cases, rushed to the platform and called for the attention of the company to say that they dared not go home without openly confessing before the people their need of the Saviour. In several instances persons were too much overcome or too timid to stand out before a public meeting, and they persuaded some one sitting near them to get up and ask prayers for them. But there was no prolongation of any service and no outlay of money for exhorters or singers. Naturally that remarkable condition attracted a throng of people, and before the Temple was opened the church and Sunday-school rooms at Mervine and Berks streets were crowded beyond endurance. At the first great prayer meeting held in the Temple when the call was made for converts the number who came forward was seventy-seven. From that time (1892) there has been no resumption of a regular number of seekers. Often the number seven, seventy-seven, forty-nine, and seventy appear in the number of those who arose for prayer or in the list of those who were received at the same time into the church. At one Easter service two hundred and seventy-seven were baptized. But those "five years' revivals" stand out as five most beautiful years in the memory of the thousands still living who recall them. All of that company of believers prayed, and on those stormy days when the curious crowd were kept away the people drew together in sincere devotion, and the most dreary days without were the most happy within. God seemed more reachable and the domestic sweetness of the church home was much more fully appreciated when the snow shadowed the panes, when the wild storms beat on the doors, and when only earnest worshipers ventured out to church. For more than fifteen years three thousand tickets of admission to the regular church services were taken up several days in advance, and when a very stormy day kept many ticket holders away special and repeated prayer was made especially for them. The effect of those stormy days of special prayer was one of the most remarkable experiences of the church life. Letters came in great numbers from different parts of the world, saying that they missed the services, but felt decidedly impressed to send for some needed information or for special religious advice. Many cathedrals, churches, homes, and charity halls have been built on prayer and faith, so that the construction of the Baptist Temple, on a prominent corner of Philadelphia's widest street, in the heart of the city, by a few poor people, may not seem strange. Yet the fact that God has prospered other enterprises is only a confirmation of the theory that God answered the prayers of Grace Church in giving providential assistance in the construction of the Temple. When the church voted to go on and pay for the lot and build a church to seat over three thousand in the upper auditorium and two thousand in the lower hall, there was no money in hand or pledged. Yet there was no recklessness, no tempting God in their faith. When the contracts were entered into with the builder, or the furniture manufacturer, provision was made carefully for any contingency. If for any unforeseen reason the great building had been unfinished at any stage of construction all bills would have been paid. But each advance in the work was made after special prayer over each division of the building enterprise. The foundation was constructed after special prayer, then came the walls, the roof, the carpenter's inside work, the painting, the furniture, and the organ--each being the object of prayerful consideration. There were a few instances, however, which are worthy of special mention. There was a point when the contract for the stone for the walls was held up by the quarry proprietors, as they feared to venture on so large a job with no guaranty but a mechanic's right of lien. At that time a new savings bank was opened at Columbia Avenue, two squares from the Temple, and President Cummings, head of the bank, offered to assist the church in any safe way. How he came to know of the proposed work, or what special reason he had for helping a people with whom he was not personally acquainted, was never explained. But he was a noble citizen. His influence was itself a powerful aid in all the business of the church. One day a stranger (General Wagner, president of the Third National Bank) was driving by the half-constructed church when an "impulse" seized him to go into the building under construction. He was a Presbyterian elder and a stranger to all the members of Grace Church. He was a great man of business, a person of unflinching integrity whose coolness in emergencies and whose conservative management of financial institutions made him a trusted authority for private, for city, or for national finances. In a few words of conversation with the contractor in the building General Wagner was told that the church was being built "by faith in prayer." He told General Wagner that thus far "every payment had been made promptly, with nothing left over." From that hour the general was a strong, unmovable friend and backer of the Temple enterprise. The Tenth National Bank and its offspring, the Columbia Trust Company, and the Third National Bank, of which General Wagner was president, were ever safely used as a reference, and often tens of thousands of dollars were loaned by them to the church for short periods. The trustees and the deacons of the church were prayerful men of stable common sense and successful in their own labor or business. There was no foolish overpiousness, no loud professions of religious fervor, but a determined trust in God's promise to heed the call of those who loved him. Mr. John Little, a Quaker by inheritance and training, was a leading mind in the affairs of the church and was for many years the treasurer of the Temple University. He was a quiet, keenly modest man, but living a transparent truthfulness and honesty which commanded the confidence of all who knew him and secured for him a love that can never die. He said that he had two special places for prayer, one being in the Temple and the other on the street. Mr. Charles F. Stone (whose wife, Mrs. Maria L. Stone, continued his work after he died) was the treasurer of the church at the critical period and was a man endowed with excellent business ability and a devout man full of good works. He, too, had a "good name" which was rather to be chosen as a financial recommendation than great riches. These men are not mentioned because of their special claim to attention above the others associated with them, but simply as two specimens of the prayer-making company who moved on unhesitatingly, yet carefully, in doing the thing which many declared could not be done. The weekly reports from the committees and individuals showing how God had raised up, unexpectedly or strangely, friends of the undertaking, often caused a deep feeling of awe and sent the people out with fresh determination to work cheerfully on. A single instance of the many hundreds reported will probably answer the inquiries of others now engaged in some like work. Looking back upon the incident after thirty years the plan or the purpose of the divine leadership, so hidden then, becomes reasonable and clear. Why the Lord wished to use only three hundred men out of Gideon's great army was not understood at the time, but all can see now that the purpose was to bring the Lord's hand into vision and win for him the recognition which would have gone to the human army. Only once did the people of the Temple falter and their prayers seem ineffective. Only once did those Philadelphia worshipers limit their faith. But that one period of doubt came when the question was suddenly thrust before the church whether they would try to put in a suitable church organ. Many claimed that they had reached the utmost limit of sacrifice. Some said that the church ought to be fully satisfied if they could buy seats for the first services. Others strongly declared that after all the asking of God and man for aid to build the Temple they could not expect either God or man to help them to buy an unnecessary organ. Through thirty-eight years the church has never had any quarrel to settle in all its history, and that division of opinion did not assume an angry or excited phase. It was simply a feeling in some of the people that the Lord had done wonders and that, now that the church was out of the wilderness, it was full time to let the people and God's providence rest. When the question arose whether the church should venture to purchase a suitable church organ it was decided by a large majority that it could not be undertaken. The small minority were Gideon's three hundred. One member of that small body asked the church for the privilege of putting in the organ, "if he could raise all of the ten thousand dollars needed without asking a contribution from anyone who had already given or subscribed toward the building." Even that conservative offer was accepted by a reluctant and small majority. Then that member began a downright, heart-stretching wrestle with the Angel of God. He spent two successive nights in the Temple in hard and tearful prayer. He had nothing to give. He must secure the whole from others. He pleaded with God to let him work with Him in awakening the hearts of possible givers. But the Lord was not willing to give to man the major part of the glory of success. The murmuring people must be made ashamed of their lack of faith in the Lord who had safely led them thus far. The contract for the organ was made with a company whose agent said they usually sold their organs on faith, but that churches always paid the cost and often paid in advance of the date when the notes matured. The purchaser of the Temple organ did not feel authorized to put in the organ with no money in hand, at least for the first installment on the price to be paid. But all the men he approached refused to give because it was "overdoing it," and was "too improbable" for credence or assistance. But the purchaser did not waver. The time set for the payment of the first fifteen hundred dollars came. The note the purchaser gave was due on Monday. The debtor had asked the Sunday-morning prayer meeting to remember him especially "on the morrow." He had until three o'clock Monday to raise the money to save his note from protest. He had written to a relative to ask for a loan of fifteen hundred dollars, but the letter had not been sent to the mail box. When he entered his room just before church services a working girl who was a member of the church came quietly to his door and handed him a letter in which, when he opened it, he found a check for fifteen hundred dollars. The letter and check were signed by a laboring man in Massilon, Ohio, who wrote that he had not been asked to give anything, but he had heard that the church "hoped soon to get an organ." He felt impressed to send this check and to ask the church to accept it on the condition that, should he ever be reduced to actual need, the church should endeavor to aid him in some way. The second payment due came as an unexpected draft from Boston for five hundred dollars, which must be honored or refused within three days. But in the same mail with the notice of the draft came two money orders from the executor of an estate in California, saying that the deceased testator had left the distribution of certain sums to the discretion of the executor and he had decided to send five hundred dollars toward "the music in the new Temple." The third payment was met by funds raised by solicitation, about which there seemed to be nothing remarkable. Other payments were made by gifts clearly sent in connection with the appeal of the believer, but the last payment was the most unaccountable of all. Three one-hundred-dollar bills were pushed under the door of the church study by some one never discovered, and a certificate of mining stock worth seven hundred dollars was sent from Butte, Montana, without other signature except that on the face of the certificate. The blank for the purchaser of the stock was blank. Public efforts were made to find the givers, but without success. Well might the people feel that the voice of the organ was the voice of the Saviour. When the organ was dedicated and Dr. D. D. Wood led the devotion with inspired fingers and sightless eyes the church's congregation was a beautiful sight--like a sea sparkling with tears. When the great chorus was singing the hymn, "God moves in a mysterious way his wonders to perform," a large number of the singers were so choked with emotion that they ceased to sing and Doctor Wood said the event was one of the most thrilling in all his experiences with choirs. These are "the simple annals of the poor," but they illustrate and inculcate great principles which are applicable to any work for the Lord. Chapter III Healing the Sick The health and happiness of mankind depend in a great degree on faith. Every emotion of the body and every action of the mind is an exhibition of faith. Persons who believe they are well, even if they are ill, will soon recover, and persons who believe that they will not be sick are seldom ill. There is no department of human life so dependent on belief as that connected with health. Millions would arise, take up their couches and walk, if they could be made to believe that they could do so. To believe a falsehood has cured many people, and consciences waver between the duty to tell a patient the clear truth when he is very ill and to make him believe a lie in order that he may get well. It must also be stated, in fidelity to the truth, that the subject of healing by faith has called out a host of the half-insane classes who proclaim with trumpet tones some cases of divine healing which are unworthy of a moment's consideration. Hence, out of a collection of possibly sincere letters, many have been rejected altogether as foolish or misleading. Eleven hundred written testimonies to cases of healing in direct answer to prayer at the Baptist Temple have been carefully examined and the trustworthy testimonies tabulated. Those "years of healing" to which reference is so often made were years of prayer and years of faith. After deducting all the questionable cases, and after a wide allowance for the naturally health-giving and health-preserving power, the normal human belief is that there remains an overwhelmingly convincing amount of evidence that healing is directly brought about by sincere prayer. Through several years cases were reported to the church or pastors which convinced all who knew the people and the circumstances that some intelligent power, higher than human knowledge, had interfered to heal the sick. But when the knowledge of those trustworthy cases came to be known, and especially when they had awakened much excited comment, then the "cranks" and monomaniacs crowded to the front and vociferously proclaimed the most absurd miracles, to the disgust of reasonable men and women and greatly to the damage of the beneficent work. Sometimes all references to healing were omitted in the pulpit and shut out from the meetings for prayer until the wild advocates of divine healing settled down and dispassionate views could be taken. Many intelligent devout men repudiated the whole experiment, believing that the excitement over it was doing much more harm than good. But the larger part who saw the people who had been cured by the unexplainable means were steadfast and went on sincerely thanking God for his wonderful works among the children of men. A digest of the written testimonies showed that cataracts had unrolled without the touch of a surgeon's knife, although the greatest number of the restoration of sight to the blind were with the aid of apparent means. The methods by which the Lord restored their sight did not make their gratitude to him for restoration any the less commendable. Mysterious and evidently dangerous internal tumors disappeared slowly or suddenly in a manner unexplainable by the most learned physicians. By far the greatest number of the eleven hundred cases selected for consideration out of the multitude of testimonies were cases in some way directly connected with the nervous system. Patients long confined in an insane asylum were brought home and cured of what had been considered hopeless insanity. There were many cases of various forms of brain diseases, while in all these cases a specially conservative examiner could declare that they might have been cured by the special or wise treatment. Yet, even if such were the case, the devout man who prayed may claim that the treatment was only a part of God's healing plan. It was often declared publicly and without any contradiction that for long seasons there was not one person ill in bed in the more than one thousand homes represented in the membership of the church worshiping in the Temple. Usually health reigned in the entire church, and it was reasonably claimed that in five years more than six hundred cases of lung and throat trouble were permanently healed. Epidemics afflicted the city, and, quoting Doctor Haehnlen, it was declared that "the Angel of Death had passed over the congregation, taking none." Of course the people believed that if they went to the Temple to pray for the recovery of their friends they would surely be favorably answered. Many have, however, written that if that condition of faith could be secured in the doctor, nurse, and family, that spirit of hope would be naturally aroused in the patient and aid greatly in the recovery. But the men who pray can say with greater confidence that in every case it was, at least, God working with man. At all events, the general health of the congregation must be far better than would have been the case with the same people if they had not gone to church and prayed. Hundreds of men and women live on in health and vigor who were in that congregation at middle age thirty-five years ago. Their strength "is not abated," although some of them were invalids thirty years ago. The healing force of a cheerful faith is everywhere acknowledged to be a health-preserving agency of vital importance in the establishment of public health. It is a vital necessity in thousands of individual cases. Such a condition is probably often a gift of God--through the influence of his suggesting and soothing spirit. Jesus healed many without resorting to miracles and seems to have resorted to the miraculous only to convince his hearers of his authority in divine matters. In some cases, as the woman who touched his garment, he claimed nothing for himself, but told her that her own faith had served her. Even the most ultra-conservative critic at the Temple who tried hard to see in these many cases of restoration only the "working out of some natural law" confessed that if his child was sick he "would not dare to omit praying" for its recovery. The conclusion of the whole matter is in the settled conviction in the minds of nearly all the worshipers at the Temple that God does answer prayer for the sick. Chapter IV Prayer for the Home One Sunday evening at the usual services the invitation was given, as is customary, for such persons who especially desired to be mentioned in the daily prayers of the people to rise for a moment before the singing of the last hymn. The sermon had not mentioned the need of prayer and contained no special evangelistic appeal. The invitation was the customary proceeding throughout the year. The three thousand seats were all filled. The audience was composed, as usual, largely of men, and they were men of middle age. There were young people, representing both sexes, scattered through the audience, and lines of them along the back rows of seats in the distant gallery. No attempt was made to emphasize the ordinary invitation in any special manner. But when the solemn moment came for the prayer-seekers to rise the response was so general that the preacher asked those who had risen to remain standing until the pastors could see them and count them. There were over five hundred, and for a few weeks that was about the usual number of those who arose. But the preacher was especially startled by the fact which he had not especially noted on previous occasions, that the majority of those who asked for prayer were young people. The scene, when those youthful faces appeared on every side and in so large a congregation, filled the soul of the beholder with almost painful awe. It led the preacher to meditate a moment to ask Christ and himself why so many young people took such a solemn, sincere interest in prayer at that time. The thought led him, before the benediction, to request all who had stood forth for prayer to write to him a personal and confidential letter explaining why they desired to be mentioned in the prayers of the Christian people. The letters came the next week by the hundred. It was an astonishing revelation. The letters from unmarried people were culled out of the collection and reread at leisure. Some of them were in need of higher wages; some were seeking for a personal religious awakening; some asked prayers for friends, for business, for safe journey, for health, or for other protection and relief. But out of two hundred and eighty-seven letters from those young people over two hundred mentioned, directly or indirectly, their strong desire for a husband, a wife, or a home. The details of lovers' quarrels were opened up, the anguish of broken engagements expressed on tear-stained sheets of note paper, and many doubtful lovers wished the Lord would reveal to them whether their choice had been a wise one or whether their love was deep enough for such an extremely important matter as marriage. The letters revealed such a general longing for a home that one seldom realizes is really existent. There were a few letters from young college women and university men. But the greater portion were from working girls. They were the most touchingly sacred records of the everyday thoughts of young women, all sincerely and modestly expressed. When those young women saw some handsomely gowned wife pass her desk, her counter, her bench, or loom, leading a bright-faced little son, the working girl's soul uttered an unvoiced shriek for a home, for a noble husband's protection, and for children of her own. Women waiters who daily fed the wives of wealthy merchants or of prosperous manufacturers wrote how terrible was the thought that they were going to be homeless and penniless in their old age--one great prayer going up to high heaven for holy domestic love and a place they could call "home." After that evening's call upon the seekers after God to rise the request for letters was repeated. The answers which came even into thousands revealed the general request for the leadership of the Spirit of the all-wise God in directing the all-important affairs of the heart. Some letters detailed the horrors of broken hearts; some revealed dark sins; and some told of betrayal or of base and traitorous ingratitude. But the majority were letters from lonely but upright women of high ideals and of noble, Christian life. Some of the communications were from conscientious young men asking God's help in deciding their choice or for the influence of God in their favor when their chosen one should make up her hesitating mind. Some were calls for Christ's forgiveness and for human advice in most complicated cases where the writer had been misunderstood or where he had thoughtlessly made a promise he must recall. All wanted a home. The honest souls standing out in the open before God, where the restraints of human custom and the reluctance of a pure modesty were, for the moment, overcome, wrote out the sincerest prayer of all. Their soul's need was a home. Of all the holy ambitions of a normal man or woman the purpose to have a home is the highest. A home on earth and a home in heaven constitute the soul's chiefest need. Around that transfigured word gather all that is highest and purest in human thinking and all that is most sacred and heavenly in human feeling. In the beginning the Almighty created man--"Male and female created he them." The first home was in Paradise. The last home will be there. He who has an income to maintain a house, who has an intelligent, unselfish wife, who can look about his table and see children with clear intellects and loving hearts, is conspicuously foolish if he does not see that he already has the best the world can give. She who can cast off all anxiety for maintenance and can devote herself to the care and training of her own little ones, and who can respect and deeply love her chosen mate, has God's best gifts already in her possession. Gratitude to the heavenly Father will lead such recipients of his richest bounty to forget not to aid those who have less. Nothing on earth of wealth, applause, or mundane wisdom can equal, in the least measure, the temporal and eternal values of a real home. Therefore it is wise and the mark of a godly character to pray heartily for a husband, or for a wife, or for children. A reasonable valuation of such domestic treasures makes a hideous crime of every violation of the laws and customs which make a loving home possible. Profanity of speech, theft of money, or traitorous breaking of any other contract is a light sin compared with the brutal sins of the libertine or the unchastity of the woman who sells herself, or who, with evil intent, entices a man to home-breaking crime. So important is this matter that it is the fit subject for constant prayer for those who have not chosen to be a martyr or decided to give up all on earth for a home in heaven. And, even in the latter case, the call to take up any work inconsistent with the maintenance of a home should be overwhelmingly emphatic to command obedience. Hence, those appeals to Heaven for domestic rest of soul were all normal and all of supreme importance. When that great collection of letters were each answered the reply contained a counter-request for a report in due season which should state when and how the prayer for a home had been answered. Those reports have also been carefully tabulated. But here again the critical adherent to the theory concerning the unchangeable laws of nature tries to escape any committal to religious dogmas by claiming that the mating instinct is an inborn sentiment common to fishes, beasts, and birds, and that mankind mates by accidental acquaintanceship or by the pressure of necessity or ungoverned passion. Such arguments convince many people who deride the claim that "marriages are made in heaven." But after every such theory is suggested and analyzed, after every allowance for the outworking of "natural selection," there is left an important place for the intrusion or domination of a superhuman power. To that fact, the simple, unvarnished tale of the experience of the years at the Temple bear eloquent testimony. A book of this character requires that out of the many reports only the most representative cases should be selected, and that the mention should be as brief as is consistent with clearness. The number of marriages which every church, small or great, brings about is ever the astonishment of any preacher who goes back over the history of forty years of church life. The church in any community is a center of more or less of social life and furnishes an opportunity for the best young people to meet on a plane of safe association. The married Christian people, and especially the owners of homes, are the very best people in any town or city. As a rule, all people possessed of Christian character marry. The unmarried masses of the people, or those who are most often unhappily mated, are often the unstable classes who are not closely bound to moral principles. Religious life and home life are twin sisters. They belong to the same family and have the same likes, dislikes, and motives. They are congenial and necessary companions almost everywhere. Let us examine the leading events wherein we seem to recognize the divine hand and which led directly to the setting up of Christian homes. One lady clerk in a department store, in her first letter asking for prayer, said that she was forty-one years of age and that she had been twenty years in the store. She said that she had hoped for a home all her adult life, but had abandoned the hope and wished only to die soon. She asked if suicide would be wrong under such sad circumstances. The following Sabbath morning, after the service, the pastor of her church incidentally introduced her to a widower of her age who had a comfortable house, but who had rented it because he had no children. The widower asked the pastor a few days later to pray for him as he had a "very important matter" on his mind. Several days later he came to the minister and said that he had dreamed three times and in each dream he had precisely the same experience. He dreamed that he was climbing a steep hill in Bethlehem, Pennsylvania, and he had called for help to a lady standing above him near the path, and when he took her hand he recognized her as the lady to whom the minister had introduced him. He declared that he really wished to set up a home again, but his first impression of that lady was decidedly unfavorable. The minister unreservedly advised the widower never to let a mere dream influence him to overcome his calm judgment. The minister said that dreams were often contrary to fair reasoning and should not be consulted in such important matters. A few days later the lady called on the minister to ask him if there was "any truth in dreams." Then she greatly surprised the minister by saying that she dreamed several times that she was on a steep bank near a cousin's home in Bethlehem, Pennsylvania, and as the earth began dangerously to break beneath her feet a man caught her and supported her to the safe path. The mysterious thing in her story was that she recognized the man as the gentleman to whom she had been introduced that Sunday morning, but whose name she had forgotten. She said that the repetition of the dream "set her to thinking," and she had called to inquire who the gentleman was and what trust could be placed in dreams. The minister was too surprised to declare again that no faith could be put in any dreams. The minister said nothing to her about his previous interview with the widower and let her depart with the remark that if the Lord intended she should marry that man the Lord would also speak to the man about it in some clear manner. The Lord never advises one party to enter into such a contract when he knows the other party is unwilling. In every holy marriage both parties are equally inspired with the spirit of God and are both absolutely convinced that the Lord had brought them together. The minister soon wrote to the widower, advising him to call on the lady and tell her frankly that he desired to make her acquaintance with a view to a marriage, if both should be satisfied that it would be right. Every reader of this incident recognizes or feels the impression of the universal law of nature and can prophesy safely that they would marry. The minister was not present at the wedding, but he was informed by those who did attend the ceremony that the bridegroom told the guests the history of their dreams and claimed that they were "obeying the voice of God" when they arranged for that marriage. The doubting persons who claim that the repetition of the dreams and the accidental meetings were singular coincidences that were in no way influenced by angel spirits, do have enough support to make the angel theory one of faith and remove the claim from the class of "scientific demonstrations." The facts related cannot be questioned. But the conclusions from those facts may differ widely and still be more or less reasonable. The mysterious attraction which leads the bird and the beast to choose their mates is of the same nature as that mating instinct which prevails universally among mankind. But man's reasoning power and his self-control make his choice of a wife a far more complicated matter. The healthiest, strongest, and most intellectual races are ever those whose laws and customs allow the greatest opportunity for unprejudiced choice in the selection of life mates. Intermarriage of family relations, or the marriages within a narrow circle of the same race, ever produce weaklings and often idiots. In the lands where the parents arrange all the marriages there is but little progress and but few real homes. Wherever the parties refuse to be guided by the higher law of affinity, or by a recognition of Divine Providence, there will seldom be found a real home. "Affinity" is an abused word, and is often used to bolster up a bad cause or to excuse a cruel crime. But the close student of anthropology ever finds that the known natural laws do not account for every case, nor can a satisfactory solution of sex attraction in human affairs be found without admitting the mysterious and potent force that is only spiritual. Looking back over the marriage records of the Baptist Temple for thirty years, there appear some significant facts concerning home-making by prayer. Through those thirty years of the record-keeping there was an average of sixteen marriages a month, or five thousand and one hundred in thirty years. The same pastor who officiated at the marriage of the parents also, in many cases, officiated at the weddings of the children. Not one case of divorce can be discovered and only two cases of estrangement. The records of many praying churches probably show the same conditions. But it is a sublime, soul-satisfying thing to meditate on such a great list of happy Christian homes. The searcher, when he notes the birthplaces of bride and groom, finds that they often come from the most distant places and represent nearly all the races of the world. Calcutta united with New York, Iceland with New Orleans, Philadelphia with Chicago, Quebec with Quakertown, Worcester (Massachusetts) with Camden (New Jersey), Japan with Chester (Pennsylvania), Alaska with Columbia (South Carolina), country villages with cities, obscure daughters of prairie farmers with sailors on the Atlantic, millionaires' sons with working girls, and thousands of members of the church of all adult ages uniting with other members of whom they knew nothing in childhood. From the atheist's point of view he can see nothing in that history but a jumble of accidents or a snarl of events which cannot be untangled. But to the devout believer in the theory that God sends his angels to arrange the home-making as he did in the case of Rebecca and Isaac, that list of homes presents a sublime view of a system for the kind distribution of Heaven's chiefest blessings. Out of the seventy-two hundred who united with Grace Church and its missions in the thirty years mentioned above all but twenty-nine have been married. As a home-making agency in the history of our nation the churches must hold the leading place. When the remarkable series of reported dreams became known and was being discussed by the people, there arose many men and women with unbalanced minds who testified to the most inconsistent miracles in connection with their dreams. Among the letters which they sent in when testimonials were called for there were nearly one hundred which related foolish and impossible experiences and which made the whole debate ridiculous. But that uprising of those who were "possessed of evil spirits" did not prove that the one case so well established was not the work of an angel of God. There may be ten thousand dreams which are of no special value and which are caused by natural law. But God seems to use only one here and there for his special purposes. Thousands of seeds fall on the earth, but only one may be selected to grow. There were cases related where dreams were specially potent to the dreamers because of the suggestions made by the dreams to the waking minds. A dream is often very potent as a reminder, or as a caution, and is often a providential event used in God's plan, although the dreams in themselves may have nothing unusual about them. There could be no clearly remembered dream which did not have some effect on the thought and later actions of the dreamer. With that view many dreams need not have their origin in a special visit of an angel of God. But again we must believe that there are dreams in which the angel of God appears to man directly, and that such dreams are possible in any age of the human world. Each claim, therefore, to a revelation of God in a dream should stand alone and be accepted or rejected after a careful study of all the causes and effects. The experiences with the Holy Spirit during those years of constant prayer should find a special place in this record. For there were devout souls who seemed to be constantly filled with the divine afflatus, and they surely enjoyed the peace of God which passeth all understanding. Here, again, we walk near a line that cannot exactly be located and enjoy emotions or inspirations which cannot be described. An all-pervading joy illumined every part of the human soul. "Where are you going so early this Sunday morning?" was often asked of the hastening pedestrian, and it was a common experience to hear him reply, "I am going to the morning prayer meeting in the Temple to meet the Holy Spirit." The Holy Spirit was there awaiting him. There were Pentecostal days--supreme hours of strange elation, seasons of heavenly bliss which cannot be accounted for on any psychological basis. A holy brooding of a sin-expelling spiritual atmosphere permeated by a power like a perfume. It was an indwelling of the Spirit which carried a purifying fumigation wherein the worshiper simply let go of himself and rested in the arms of his heavenly Father. Many felt that sacred presence and could only express themselves in tears. Such Pentecostal visitations of the Spirit have doubtless come to thousands of churches and to millions of worshipers in other places, and this experience at the Temple is not mentioned as if it were an unusual thing where prayer is the habit of all the people. But it confirms the history of the visits of the Holy Spirit related in the Bible, and must be accepted as a proof of the fact that there is communication between the spirit world and the world in which we live in the flesh. But these spiritual conditions are so subtle, so elusive, so delicate, that it is easy to imagine that one is in that condition when perhaps he is not. It was so disappointing and perplexing to the sincere and reasonable Christian to have his communication with the Holy Spirit disturbed by a wild-eyed and loud-mouthed "Holy Roller" or an advocate of "The Holy Ghost and Us Society" proclaim his wild theories and tell of the silly revelations which he claimed the Spirit had made to him. Some of those disturbers are now in the insane asylum, where they should have been before. Wherever God erects a house of prayer The devil builds a chapel there. And 'twill be found on examination The latter has the largest congregation. It is a marvel that the gospel of Christ has outlived its own advocates. The "cranks" who testified for Christ in his day were more harmful than were the same number of his open enemies. Because of them the people believed that Christ himself was a wild fanatic. The believer in Christ must try prayerfully and carefully to distinguish between the devils and the angels of light, and determine by their fruits which claimant is possessed by the Spirit of God and which is controlled by the spirit of evil. Chapter V Prayer and the Bible There are three methods used distinctively in the study of the Bible and upon each of them prayer has a clear effect. This fact comes out fully in the written testimonials received from the members of the church worshiping in the Baptist Temple. One individual may read the Bible as he would read any other book, and, consequently, finds it dull reading. Another studies the historical references as an archæologist or as the scientific specialists examine a rare specimen. To them it is a curious and strange collection of ancient manuscripts, and such a student finds amusement in the research. Another regards the Book as a miraculous revelation from God, and he handles the volume with reverent care and reads the statements it contains as he would a letter sent from heaven direct to him. Those three classes are found in almost every religious gathering, and it is an intensely interesting thing to observe at close range the various effects of prayer on such a congregation. When the leader of the prayer service approaches the Bible with the manner of a delighted seeker after truth, and, before opening the Book, leads the people in a direct appeal to the Divine Spirit for instruction and inspiration, the interest of the worshipers in the Book is especially awakened. When the leader prays fervently and with frank sincerity that the passages of the Bible to be read shall be illumined or be made alive with special meaning and new emphasis, then the Book will be an interesting volume to nearly all of the gathering. And when the leader is himself expecting a special revelation from that Book at that time his personal magnetism combines with his manner to help the worshiper into a receptive, expectant state of mind. The people then expect to hear "an important message from a most important person." The helpfulness of those conditions anyone would understand, as they are in accord with human experience in other gatherings. But the effect of the prayer in bringing to each person present a different message from the same verse puts the matter over into the realm of the supernatural. At one prayer meeting at the Temple, when a severe storm had cut down the attendance to a number under twenty, the prayerful attitude of all present made the session one of special spiritual illumination. The Scriptures were read with accuracy and natural emphasis, and then each listener was requested to state informally what was the chief lesson which the reading brought to him. Each person present received a distinct and helpful suggestion differing from the suggestions made to any of the others. It is that well-established fact, so often experienced, that makes the Bible a book unlike any other. In this, too, is shown the importance of persuading everyone to read the Bible for and by himself. It seems, however, to be universally true that when the Bible is prayerfully, intelligently read aloud each praying listener receives some message of special importance to himself. While all that evening heard the same words from the same mouth, yet the circumstances of each life were different from every other; the experiences had been unlike, the inherited dispositions were different, the meaning of the words was shaded by the variation in their home use, and a full allowance was freely made for those differing effects. But those considerations cannot, to the calm, critical student of the inspiration of the Bible, account for the special and mysterious messages which come to each participant in the meeting. The suggestions are often beyond the application of the law of "the association of ideas." They cannot be explained by any of the known psychological laws which seem generally to govern the human mind. This experience with the Bible is the best evidence of its divine inspiration. Archæological, psychological, etymological, or historical analysis cannot establish the accuracy of the Bible so surely as that actual experience. The best proof is subjective. The secular argument that the Bible carries on its face the evidence that the writers were all inspired by a "good motive" is surely an excellent reason for believing the Bible to be "inspired." A holy motive, apparent in its wise communications, is clearly shown in the Bible. The etymologist who rests his case on the conclusion that the words "inspired by God" were formerly written "inspired by the Good," and that the "All Good" being is the ideal God, is not far from the safe definition. That does not in any way conflict with the theory that "all Scripture, inspired by the 'All Good,' is profitable for doctrine, for reproof, for correction, for instruction in righteousness." The complications into which the narrow theologian or technical philosopher falls when attempting to reason about the Almighty often makes the study bewildering and unprofitable. The testimony of the good and great through all the ages that every line of the Book is written with the unselfish purpose to do good is sufficient warrant for the common reader in concluding that it has some unusual inspiration. The question was often discussed at the Temple whether it was safe after prayer to open the Bible at random and be guided by the first verse on which the eye rested. Some claimed that it was always safe to trust it. Others said that it was only occasionally that they found it to be reasonably instructive. Still others believed that the ascribing of such magic, or miraculous, power to the Book was clearly a form of forbidden idolatry. But the majority of the praying Bible readers felt convinced that the selection of texts at random could not be trusted. Yet here again we find strong evidence that sometimes the worshiper is directed to a particular record which seems to be selected by a divine mind. Again, it is wholly a matter of faith. The boy who asked his father for a silver dollar and found one in the road which some traveler had accidentally dropped, concluded that there was no design on the part of his father to give him the dollar. But when he found a dollar there the third time his conclusion that his father had placed all three of the dollars there for him was not unreasonable, but, nevertheless, erroneous. So while the Lord surely has established certain laws or customs which seem permanent, yet he has the power and may change the laws or allow exceptions, and one cannot believe in prayer without believing that such changes are sometimes made. It is a far greater strain upon human credulity not to believe it than it is to believe it. The careful use of common sense in the interpretation of Biblical or unusual events, examples, and records of wisdom is ever the safe and sane proceeding. If one should pray for divine direction and opened the Bible at random to find the Lord's advice he should always examine the verse to see if its teaching or direction accorded with his petition. In a "call" to the ministry there must be a conviction of duty in the soul and also a road providentially opened to the would-be laborer. So in all the thousands of answers to prayer at the Temple there was found a conjunction of circumstances which showed that the worker was called by the same Lord who had a work to be done. The will of man is a strong force and is in itself an effectual, fervent prayer. The Lord prospers the person whose righteous will is decided, persistent, and uncompromising. The too-frequent consultation of Bible texts for hints or for direction shows a habit of doubt which is often a clear evidence of weakness. But in this, as in almost every other experiment, it is the consensus of opinion that the Lord does often inspire the Bible, especially for certain devout seekers, and that he inspires the soul with a keen, sensitive apprehension and appreciation of the special revelation. The spiritually minded man or woman is the only one who can interpret a spiritual book. The chief value of the Bible is as a spiritual guide. It is the only book which explains the Creator's revelation to this world, and is the only one which gives a trustworthy description of the spiritual world. What a shadow would pass over the earth, and what destruction, devastation, and misery would be experienced, if, in one moment, all knowledge of the Bible were crossed out! Sane men who reverently pray for the inspiration when they read the Scriptures are the only safe guides to its sacred meaning. All who came to the Temple to pray seem to have been lead to the Bible at once, and thousands have learned to love it. To those who have prayed long over it it has become a continual feast. 
37696	----	ARGUMENTS OF CELSUS, PORPHYRY, and THE EMPEROR JULIAN, AGAINST THE CHRISTIANS; ALSO EXTRACTS FROM DIODORUS SICULUS, JOSEPHUS, AND TACITUS, RELATING TO THE JEWS, TOGETHER WITH AN APPENDIX; CONTAINING: THE ORATION OF LIBANIUS IN DEFENCE OF THE TEMPLES OF THE HEATHENS, TRANSLATED BY DR. LARDNER; AND EXTRACTS FROM BINGHAM'S ANTIQUITIES OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH. By [Thomas Taylor] MDCCCXXX. "For if indeed Julian had caused all those that were under his dominion to be richer than Midas, and each of the cities greater than Babylon once was, and had also surrounded each of them with a golden wall, but had corrected none of the existing errors respecting divinity, he would have acted in a manner similar to a physician, who receiving a body full of evils in each of its parts, should cure all of them except the eyes."--Liban. Parental, in Julian, p. 285. INTRODUCTION. "I HAVE often wished," says Warburton in a letter to Dr. Forster, October 15, 1749, "for a hand capable of collecting all the fragments remaining of Porphyry, Celsus, Hierocles, and Julian, and giving them to us with a just, critical and theological comment, as a defy to infidelity. It is certain we want something more than what their ancient answerers have given us. This would be a very noble work*." The author of the following Collectanea has partially effected what Dr. Warburton wished * See Barker's Parriana, vol. ii. p. 48. {iv} to see accomplished; for as he is not a _divine_, he has not attempted in his Notes to confute Celsus, but has confined himself solely to an illustration of his meaning, by a citation of parallel passages in other ancient authors. As the answer, however, of Origen to the arguments of Celsus is very futile and inefficient, it would be admirable to see some one of the learned divines with which the church at present abounds, leap into the arena, and by vanquishing Celsus, prove that the Christian religion is peculiarly adapted to the present times, and to the interest of the priests by whom it is professed and disseminated. The Marquis D'Argens published a translation in French, accompanied by the Greek text, of the arguments of the Emperor Julian against the Christians; and as an apology for the present work, I subjoin the following translation of a part of his preliminary discourse, in which he defends that publication. "It may be that certain half-witted gentleman {v} may reproach me for having brought forward a work composed in former times against the Christians, in the vulgar tongue. To such I might at once simply reply, that the work was preserved by a Father of the Church; but I will go further, and tell them with Father Petau, who gave a Greek edition of the works of Julian, that if those who condemn the authors that have published these works, will temper the ardour of their zeal with reason and judgement, they will think differently, and will distinguish between the good use that may be made of the book, and the bad intentions of the writer. "Father Petau also judiciously remarks, that if the times were not gone by when dæmons took the advantage of idolatry to seduce mankind, it would be prudent not to afford any aid, or give the benefit of any invective against Jesus, or the Christian religion to the organs of those dæmons; but since by the blessing of God and the help of the cross, which have brought about our salvation, the monstrous dogmas of Paganism are buried in oblivion, {vi} we have nothing to fear from that pest; there is no weighty reason for our rising up against the monuments of Pagan aberration that now remain, and totally destroying them. On the contrary, the same Father Petau says, that it is better to treat them as the ancient Christians treated the images and temples of the gods. At first, in the provinces in which they were in power, they razed them to the very foundations, that nothing might be visible to posterity that could perpetuate impiety, or the sight of which could recall mankind to an abominable worship. But when the same Christians had firmly established their religion, it appeared more rational to them, after destroying the altars and statues of the gods, to preserve the temples, and by purifying them, to make them serviceable for the worship of the true God. The same Christians also, not only discontinued to break the statues and images of the gods, but they took the choicest of them, that were the work of the most celebrated artists, and set them up in public places to ornament their cities, as well as to recall to the memory of those who beheld them, how gross {vii} the blindness* of their ancestors had been, and how powerful the grace that had delivered them from it." The Marquis d'Argens further observes: "It were to be wished, that Father Petau, having so judiciously considered the works of Julian, had formed an equally correct idea of the person of that Emperor. I cannot discover through what caprice he takes it amiss, that a certain learned Professor** has praised the civil virtues of Julian, and condemned the evidently false calumnies that almost all the ecclesiastical authors have lavished upon him; and amongst the rest Gregory and Cyril, who to the good arguments they have adduced against the false reasoning of Julian, have added insults which ought never to have been used by any defender of truth. They have cruelly * The Heathens would here reply to Father Petau. Which is the greater blindness of the two,-- ours, in worshipping the images of deiform processions from the ineffable principle of things, and who are eternally united to him; or that of the Papists, in worshipping the images of worthless men ** Monsieur de la Bletric. {viii} calumniated this Emperor to favour _their good cause_, and confounded the just, wise, clement, and most courageous prince, with the Pagan philosopher and theologian; when they ought simply to have refuted him with argument, in no case with insult, and still less with calumnies so evidently false, that during fourteen centuries, in which they have been so often repeated, they have never been accredited, nor enabled to assume even an air of truth." A wise Christian philosopher, La Mothe, Le Vayer, in reflecting on the great virtues with which Julian was endowed, on the contempt he manifested for death, on the firmness with which he consoled those who wept around him, and on his last conversation with Maximus and Priscus on the immortality of the soul, says, "that after such testimonies of a virtue, to which _nothing appears to be wanting but the faith to give its professor a place amongst the blessed_*, we have cause to wonder that * According to this _wise Christian philosopher_ therefore, not only all the confessedly wise and virtuous Heathens that lived posterior, but those also who lived anterior to the promulgation of the Christian religion, will have no place hereafter among the blessed. {ix} Cyril should have tried to make us believe, that Julian was a mean and cowardly prince*. Those who judge of men that lived in former ages by those who have lived in more recent times, may feel little surprise at the proceedings of Cyril. It has rarely happened that long animosity and abuse have not been introduced into religious controversies." After what has been above said of Julian, I deem it necessary to observe, that Father Petau is egregiously mistaken in supposing that Cyril has preserved the whole of that Emperor's arguments against the Christians: and the Marquis D'Argêns is also mistaken when he says, that "the passages of Julian's text which are * This is by no means wonderful in Cyril, when we consider that he is, with the strongest reason, suspected of being the cause of the murder of Hypatia, who was one of the brightest ornaments of the Alexandrian school, and who was not only a prodigy of learning, but also a paragon of beauty. {x} abridged or omitted, aire very few." For Hieronymus in Epist. 83. _Ad Magnum Oratorem Romanum_, testifies that this work consisted of seven books; three of which only Cyril attempted to confute, as is evident from his own words, [--Greek--] "Julian wrote three books against the holy Evangelists." But as Fabricius observes, (in Biblioth. Græc. tom. vii. p. 89.) in the other four books, he appears to have attacked the remaining books of the Scriptures, i. e. the books of the Old Testament. With respect, however, to the three books which Cyril has endeavoured to confute, it appears to me, that he has only selected such parts of these books as he thought he could most easily answer. For that he has not given even the substance of these three books, is evident from the words of Julian himself, as recorded by Cyril. For Julian, after certain invectives both against Christ and John, says, "These things, therefore, we shall shortly discuss, when we come particularly to consider {xi} the monstrous deeds and fraudulent machinations of the Evangelists*." There is no particular discussion however of these in any part of the extracts preserved by Cyril. That the work, indeed, of Julian against the Christians was of considerable extent, is evident from the testimony of his contemporary, Libanius; who, in his admirable funeral oration on this most extraordinary man, has the following remarkable passage: "But when the winter had extended the nights, Julian, besides many other beautiful works, attacked the books which make a man of Palestine to be a God, and the son of God; and in _a long contest_, and with strenuous arguments, evinced that what is said in these writings is ridiculous and nugatory. And in the execution of this work he appears to have excelled in wisdom the Tyrian old man.** * [--Greek--] ** viz. Porphyry, who was of Tyre, and who, as is well known, wrote a work against the Christians, which was publicly burnt by order of the Emperor Constantine. {xii} In asserting this however, may the Tyrian be propitious to me, and benevolently receive what I have said, he having been vanquished by his son*." With respect to Celsus, the author of the following Fragments, he lived in the time of the Emperor Adrian. and was, if Origen may be credited, an Epicurean philosopher. That he might indeed, at some former period of his life, have been an Epicurean maybe admitted; but it would be highly absurd to suppose that he was so when he wrote this invective against the Christians; for the arguments which he mostly employs show that he was well skilled m the philosophy of Plato: and to suppose, as Origen does, that he availed himself of arguments in * [--Greek--] [xiii] which he did not believe, and consequently conceived to be erroneous, in order to confute doctrines which he was persuaded are false, would be to make him, instead of a philosopher, a fool. As to Origen, though he abandoned philosophy for Christianity, he was considered as heterodox by many of the Christian sect. Hence, with some of the Catholics, his future salvation became a matter of doubt*; and this induced the celebrated Johannes Picus Mirandulanus, in the last of his _Theological conclusions according to his own opinion_, to say: "Rationabilius est credere Uriginem esse salvum, quam credere ipsum esse damnatum," _i. e. It is more reasonable to believe that Origen is saved, than that he is damned._ I shall conclude this Introduction with the following extract. * 'In Prato Spiritual!, c. 26, quod citatur, à VIL Synodo, et à Johanne Diacono, lib. ii. c. 45. vitas B. Gregorii narratur fevelatio, qua Origines viras est in Gehenna ignis cum Alio et Netftorio."*--Fobric. BMiotk Grate torn. v. p. 216 {xiv} Directions of Dr. Barlow, Bishop of Lincoln, to a young divine. "It will be of great use for a divine to be acquainted with the arts, knavery, and fraud of the Roman inquisitor, in purging, correcting, or rather corrupting authors in all arts and faculties. For this purpose we may consult the _Index Expurgatorius_. By considering this Index, we come to know the best editions of many good books. "1st. The best books; that is, those that are condemned. "2nd. The best editions; viz. those that are dated before the _Index_, and consequently not altered. "3rd. The _Index_ is a good common place book, to point out who has written well against the Church, p. 70. "Ockam is damned in the _Index_, and therefore we may be sure he was guilty of telling some great truth, p. 41.*" * The Bishop's rule is as good for one church as for another, and every church has its Index. THE ARGUMENTS OF CELSUS AGAINST THE CHRISTIANS [Illustration: Celsus] "THE Christians are accustomed to have private assemblies, which are forbidden by the law. For of assemblies some are public, and these are conformable to the law of the land; but others are secret, and these are such as are hostile to the laws; among which are the Love Feasts of the Christians *. * Why the Romans punished the Christians: "It is commonly regarded as a very curious and remarkable fact, that, although the Romans were disposed to tolerate every other religious sect, yet they frequently persecuted the Christians with unrelenting cruelty. This exception, so fatal to a peaceable and harmless sect, must have originated in circumstances which materially distin-... {2} "Men who irrationally assent to anything, resemble those who are delighted with jugglers and enchanters, &c. For as most of these are depraved characters, who deceive the vulgar, and persuade them to assent to whatever they please, this also takes place with the Christians. Some of these are not willing either to give or receive a reason for what they believe; but are accustomed to say, 'Do not investigate, but believe, your faith will save you. ...guished them from the votaries of every other religion. The causes and the pretexts of persecution may have varied at various periods; but there seems to have been one general cause which will readily be apprehended by those who are intimately acquainted with the Roman jurisprudence. From the most remote period of their history, the Romans had conceived extreme horror against all nocturnal meetings of a secret and mysterious nature. A law prohibiting nightly vigils in a temple has even been ascribed, perhaps with little probability, to the founder of their state. The laws of the twelve tables declared it a capital offence to attend nocturnal assemblies in the city. This, then, being the spirit of the law, it is obvious that the nocturnal meetings of the primitive Christians must have rendered them objects of peculiar suspicion, and exposed them to the animadversion of the magistrate. It was during the night that they usually held their most solemn and religious assemblies; for a practice which may be supposed to have arisen from their fears, seems to have been continued from the operation of other causes. Misunderstanding the purport of certain passages of Scripture, they were... {3} 'For the wisdom of the world is bad, but folly is good*,' "The world, according to Moses, was created at a certain time, and has from its commencement existed for a period far short of ten thousand years,--The world, however, is without a beginning; in consequence of which there have been from all eternity many conflagrations, and many deluges, among the latter of which the most recent is that of Deucalion**. ...led to imagine that the second advent, of which they lived in constant expectation, would take place during the night; and they were accustomed to celebrate nightly vigils at the tombs of the saints and martyrs. In this case, therefore, they incurred no penalties peculiar to the votaries of a new religion, but only such as equally attached to those who, professing the public religion of the state, were yet guilty of this undoubted violation of its laws."--Observations on the Study of the Civil Law, by Dr. Irving, Edin. 1820. p. 11. "It is not true that the primitive Christians held their assemblies in the night time to avoid the interruptions of the civil power: but the converse of that proposition is true in the utmost latitude; viz. that they met with molestations from that quarter, because their assemblies were nocturnal."--Elements of Civil Law, by Dr. Taylor, p. 579. * See Erasmus's Praise of Folly, towards the end. ** See on this subject the Tinusus of Plato. {4} "Goatherds and shepherds among the Jews, following Moses as their leader, and being allured by rustic deceptions, conceived that there is [only] one God. "These goatherds and shepherds were of opinion that there is one God, whether they delight to call him the Most High, or Adonai, or Celestial, or Sabaoth, or to celebrate by any other name the fabricator of this world*; for they knew nothing farther. For it is of no consequence, whether the God who is above all things, is denominated, after the accustomed manner of the Greeks, Jupiter, or is called by any other name, such as that which is given to him by the Indians or Egyptians." Celsus, assuming the person of a Jew, represents him as speaking to Jesus, and reprehending him for many things. And in the first place he reproaches him with feigning that he was born of a virgin; and says, that to his disgrace he was born in a Judaic village from a poor Jewess, who obtained the means * In the original there is nothing more than [--------] i. e. this world; but it is necessary to read, conformably to the above translation, [--------]. For the Jews did not celebrate the world, but the Maker of the world, by these names. {5} of subsistence by manual labour. He adds, That she was abandoned by her husband, who was a carpenter, because she had been found by him to have committed adultery. Hence, in consequence of being expelled by her husband, becoming an ignominious vagabond, she was secretly delivered of Jesus, who, through poverty being obliged to serve as a hireling in Egypt, learnt there certain arts for which the Egyptians are famous. Afterwards, returning from thence, he thought so highly of himself, on account of the possession of these [magical] arts, as to proclaim himself to be a God. Celsus also adds, That the mother of Jesus became pregnant with him through a soldier, whose name was Panthera*. "Was therefore the mother of Jesus beautiful, and was God connected with her on account of her beauty, though he is not adapted to be in love with a corruptible body? Or is it not absurd to suppose that God would be enamoured of a woman who was neither fortunate nor of royal extraction, nor even scarcely known to her neighbours; and who was also hated and ejected by the carpenter her * The same thing is said of Jesus in a work called "The Gospel according to the Jews, or Toldoth Jesu." See Chap. I. and II. of that work. {6} husband, so as neither to be saved by her own credulity nor by divine power? These things, therefore, do not at all pertain to the kingdom of God." Celsus, again personifying a Jew, says to Christ, "When you were washed by John, you say that the spectre of a bird flew to you from the air. But what witness worthy of belief saw this spectre? Or who heard a voice from heaven, adopting you for a son of God, except yourself, and some one of your associates, who was equally a partaker of your wickedness and punishment? "Jesus having collected as his associates ten or eleven infamous men, consisting of the most wicked publicans and sailors, fled into different places, obtaining food with difficulty, and in a disgraceful manner." Again, in the person of a Jew, Celsus says to Christ, "What occasion was there, while you were yet an infant, that you should be brought to Egypt, in order that you might not be slain? For it was not fit that a God should be afraid of death. But an angel came from heaven, ordering you and your associates to fly, lest being taken you should be put to death. For the great God [it seems] could not {7} preserve you, his own son, m your own country, but sent two angels on your account." The same Jew in Celsus also adds, "Though we do not believe in the ancient fables, which ascribe a divine origin to Perseus, Amphion, Æacus, and Minos, yet at the same time their deeds are demonstrated to be mighty and admirable, and truly superhuman, in order that what is narrated of their origin may not appear to be improbable." But (speak-ing to Jesus) he says, "What beautiful or admirable thing have you said or done, though you was (sp) called upon in the temple to give some manifest sign that you were the son of God?" Celsus, pretending not to disbelieve in the miracles ascribed to Christ, says to him, "Let us grant that these things were performed by you; but they are common with the works of enchanters, who promise to effect more wonderful deeds than these, and also with what those who have been taught by the Egyptians to perform in the middle of the forum for a few oboli; such as expelling dæmons from men, dissipating diseases by a puff, evocating the souls of heroes, exhibiting sumptuous suppers, and tables covered with food, which have no reality. These magicians also represent animals as moving, which are not in reality animals, but merely appear {8} to the imagination to be such.--Is it fit, therefore» that we should believe these men to be the sons of God, because they worked these wonders? Or ought we not rather to say, that these are the arts of depraved and unhappy men!" Again the Jew says, "It is but recently, and as it were yesterday, since we punished Christ; and you, who are [in no respect superior to] keepers of oxen, have abandoned the laws of your ancestors and country. Why likewise do you begin from our sacred institutions, but afterwards in the progress [of your iniquity] despise them? For you have no other origin of your dogma, than our law. Many. other such persons also as Jesus was, may be seen by those who wish to be deceived. How too is it probable that we, who have declared to all men that a person would be sent by God as a punisher of the unjust, should treat him ignominiously, if such a person had appeared among us? Again: How can we think him to be a God, who, that I may omit other things, performed, as we learn, nothing that was promised? And when, being condemned by us, he was thought worthy of punishment, having concealed himself and fled, was most disgracefully made a prisoner; being betrayed by those whom he called his disciples? If, however, he was a God, it was not proper that he should either fly, or be led {9] away captive. And much less was it fit, that, being considered as a saviour and the son of the greatest God, and; also the messenger of this God, by his familiars and private associates, he should be deserted and betrayed by them. But what _excellent_ general, who was the leader of many myriads of men, was ever betrayed by his soldiers? Indeed, this has not happened even to the chief of a band of robbers, though a man depraved, and the captain of men still more depraved than himself, when to his associates he appeared to be useful. But Christ, who was betrayed by those of whom he was the leader, though not as a good commander, nor in such a way as robbers would behave to their captain, could not obtain the benevolence of his deluded followers.--Many other things also, and such as are true, respecting Jesus might be adduced, though they are not committed to writing by his disciples; but these I willingly omit. His disciples also falsely pretended, that he foreknew and foretold every thing that happened to him. "The disciples of Jesus, not being able to adduce any thing respecting him that was obviously manifest, falsely assert that he foreknew all things; and have written other things of a similar kind respecting lum. This, however, is just the same as if some one should assert that a certain person is a just {10} man, and notwithstanding this should show that he acted unjustly; that he is a pious man, and yet a murderer; and, though immortal, died; at the same time adding to all these assertions, that he had a foreknowledge of all things. "These things Jesus said after he had previously declared that he was God, and it was entirely necessary that what he had predicted should take place. He therefore, though a God, induced his disciples and prophets, with whom he ate and drank, to become impious. It was, however, requisite that he should have been beneficial to all men, and particularly to his associates. No one likewise would think of betraying the man, of whose table he had been a partaker. But here the associate of the table of God became treacherous to him; God himself, which is still more absurd, making those who had been hospitably entertained by him to be his impious betrayers." The Jew in Celsus also says, that "What is asserted by the Jewish prophets may be much more probably adapted to ten thousand other persons than to Jesus. Besides, the prophets say, that he who was to come would be a great and powerful king, and would be the lord of the whole earth, and of all nations and armies: but no one would {11} infer from such like symbols and rumours, and from such ignoble arguments, that Christ is the son of God. "As the sun, which illuminates all other things, first shows himself [to be the cause of light], thus also it is fit that this should have been done by the son of God*. But the Christians argue sophistically, when they say that the son of God is _the word itself_. And the accusation is strengthened by this, that _the word_ which was announced by the Christians to be the son of God, was not a pure and holy _word_, but a man who was most disgracefully punished and put to death. "What illustrious deed did Jesus accomplish worthy of a God, who beholds from on high with contempt [the trifling pursuits of] men, and derides and considers as sport terrestrial events? "Why too did not Jesus, if not before, yet now at least, [i. e. when he was brought before Pilate,] exhibit some divine indication respecting himself; liberate himself from this ignominy, and punish those * Celsus means that Christ should have given indubitable evidence, by his sayings, his deeds, and by all that happened to him, that he was the son of God. {12} who had insulted both him and his father? What kind of ichör also or blood dropped from his crucified body? was it,.....such as from the blest immortals flows?"* The Jew in Celsus further adds: "Do you reproach us with this, O most faithful men, that we do not conceive Christ to be God, and that we do not accord with you in believing that he suffered these things for the benefit of mankind, in order that we also might despise punishment? Neither did he persuade any one while he lived, not even his own disciples, that he should be punished, and suffer as he did: nor did he exhibit himself [though a God] as one liberated from all evils. "Certainly you Christians will not say, that Christ, when he found that he could not induce the inhabitants on the surface of the earth to believe in his doctrines, descended to the infernal regions, in order that he might persuade those that dwelt there. But if inventing absurd apologies by which you are ridiculously deceived, what should hinder others also, who have perished miserably, from being ranked among angels of a more divine order?" * See Iliad, V, ver. S40. {13} The Jew in Celsus further observes, on comparing Christ with robbers, "Some might in a similar manner unblushingly say of a robber and a homicide, who was punished for his crimes, that he was not a robber but a God; for he predicted to his associates that he should suffer what he did suffer. "The disciples of Jesus, living with him, hearing his voice, and embracing his doctrines, when they saw that he was punished and put to death, neither died with nor for him, nor could be persuaded to despise punishment; but denied that they were his disciples. Why, therefore, do not you Christians [voluntarily] die with your master?" The Jew in Celsus also says, that "Jesus made converts of ten sailors, and most abandoned publicans; but did not even persuade all these to embrace his doctrines. "Is it not also absurd in the extreme, that so many should believe in the doctrines of Christ now he is dead, though he was not able to persuade any one [genuinely] while he was living? "But the Christians will say, We believe Jesus to be the son of God, because he cured the lame and the blind, and, as you assert, raised the dead. {14} "O light and truth, which clearly proclaims in its own words, as you write, that other men, and these depraved and enchanters, will come among you, possessing similar miraculous powers! Christ also feigns that a certain being, whom he denominates Satan, will be the source of these nefarious characters: so that Christ himself does not deny that these arts possess nothing divine, and acknowledges that they are the works of depraved men. At the same time likewise, being compelled by truth, he discloses both the arts of others and his own. Is it not, therefore, a miserable thing, to consider, from the performance of the same deeds, this man to be a God, but others to be nothing more than enchanters? For why, employing his testimony, should we rather think those other workers of miracles to be more depraved than himself? Indeed Christ confesses that these arts are not indications of a divine nature, but of certain impostors, and perfectly wicked characters." After this, the Jew in Celsus says to his fellow-citizens who believed in Jesus, as follows: "Let us grant you that Jesus predicted his resurrection: but how many others have employed such-like prodigies, in order by a fabulous narration to effect what they wished; persuading stupid auditors to believe in these miracles? Zamolxis among the {15} Scythians, who was a slave of Pythagoras, used this artifice; Pythagoras also himself, in Italy; and in Egypt, Rhampsinitus. For it is related of the latter that he played at dice with Ceres in Hades, and that he brought back with him as a gift from her a golden towel. Similar artifices were likewise employed by Orpheus among the Odryssians; by Protesilaus among the Thessalians; and by Hercules and Theseus in Tænarus. This, however, is to be considered,--whether any one who in reality died, ever rose again in the same body: unless you think that the narrations of others are fables,but that your catastrophe of the drama will be found to be either elegant or probable, respecting what was said by him who expired on the cross, and the earthquake, and the darkness, which then according to you ensued. To which may be added, that he who when living could not help himself, arose, as you say, after he was dead, and exhibited the marks of his punishment, and his hands which had been perforated on the cross. But who was it that saw this? A furious woman, as you acknowledge, or some other of the same magical sect; or one who was under the delusion of dreams, and who voluntarily subjected himself to fallacious phantasms,--a thing which happens to myriads of the human race. Or, which is more probable, those who pretended to see this were such as wished to astonish others by {16} this prodigy, and, through a false narration of this kind, to give assistance to the frauds of other impostors. "Is it to be believed that Christ, when he was alive, openly announced to all men what he was; but when it became requisite that he should procure a strong belief of his resurrection from the dead, he should only show himself secretly to one woman and to his associates? "If also Christ wished to be concealed, why was a voice heard from heaven, proclaiming him to be the son of God? Or, if he did not wish to be concealed, why did he suffer punishment, and why did, he [ignominiously] die?" The Jew in Celsus likewise adds, "These things therefore we have adduced to you from your own writings, than which we have employed no other testimony, for you yourselves are by them confuted. Besides, what God that ever appeared to men, did not procure belief that he was a God, particularly when he appeared to those who expected his advent? Or why was he not acknowledged by those, by whom he had been for a long time expected? We certainly hope for a resurrection in the body, and that we shall have eternal life. We {17} also believe that the paradigm and primary leader of this, will be he who is to be sent to us; and who will show that it is not impossible for God to raise _any one_ with his body that he pleases." After this, Celsus in his own person says, "The Christians and Jews most stupidly contend with each other, and this controversy of theirs about Christ differs in nothing from the proverb about the contention for the shadow of an ass*. There is also nothing venerable in the investigation of the Jews and Christians with each other; both of them believing that there was a certain prophecy from a divine spirit, that a saviour of the human race would appear on the earth, but disagreeing in their opinion whether he who was predicted had appeared or not. "The Jews originating from the Egyptians deserted Egypt through sedition, at the same time despising the religion of the Egyptians. Hence the * This proverb is mentioned by Apuleius at the end of the Ninth Book of his Metamorphosis. There is also another Greek proverb mentioned by Menander, Plato, and many others, [--------], concerning the shadow of an ass, which is said of those who are anxious to know things futile, frivolous, and entirely useless. These two proverbs Apuleius has merged into one. {18} same thing happened to the Christians afterwards, who abandoned the religion of the Jews, as to the Jews who revolted from the Egyptians; for the cause to both of their innovation was a seditious opposition to the common* and established rites of their country. "The Christians at first, when they were few, had but one opinion; but when they became scattered through their multitude, they were again and again divided into sects, and each sect wished to have an establishment of its own. For this was what they desired to effect from the beginning. "But after they were widely dispersed one sect opposed the other, nor did any thing remain common to them except the name of Christians; and even this they were at the same time ashamed to leave as a common appellation: but as to other things, they were the ordinances of men of a different persuasion. "What however is still more wonderful is this, that their doctrine may be [easily] confuted, as consisting of no hypothesis worthy of belief. But their * In the original [--------], but it is necessary to read, conformably to the above translation, [--------] {19} dissension among themselves, the advantage they derive from it, and their dread of those who are not of their belief, give stability to their faith. "The Christians ridicule the Egyptians, though they indicated many and by no means contemptible things through enigmas, when they taught that honours should be paid to _eternal_ ideas, and not, as it appears to the vulgar, to diurnal animals*." Celsus adds, that "The Christians stupidly introduce nothing more venerable than the goats and dogs of the Egyptians in their narrations respecting Jesus. "What is said by a few who are considered as Christians, concerning the doctrine of Jesus and the precepts of Christianity, is not designed for the wiser, but for the more unlearned and ignorant part of mankind. For the following are their precepts: 'Let no one who is erudite accede to us, no one who is wise, no one who is prudent (for these things are thought by us to be evil); but let any one who is unlearned, who is stupid, who is an infant in understanding boldly come to us.' For the Christians openly acknowledge that such as these are worthy * See on this subject the Treatise of Plutarch respecting Isis and Osiris. {20} to be noticed by their God; manifesting by this, that they alone wish and are able to persuade the ignoble, the insensate, slaves, stupid women, and little children and fools. "We may see in the forum infamous characters and jugglers* collected together, who dare not show their tricks to intelligent men; but when they perceive a lad, and a crowd of slaves and stupid men, they endeavour to ingratiate themselves with such characters as these. "We also may see in their own houses, wool-weavers, shoemakers, fullers, and the most illiterate and rustic men, who dare not say any thing in the presence of more elderly and wiser fathers of families; but when they meet with children apart from their parents, and certain stupid women with them, then they discuss something of a wonderful nature; such as that it is not proper to pay attention to parents and preceptors, but that they should be persuaded by them. For, say they, your parents and preceptors are delirious and stupid, and neither know what is truly good, nor are able to effect it, being prepossessed with trifles of an unusual nature. They * Celsus, as we are informed by Origen, compares the Christians with men of this description. {21} add, that they alone know how it is proper to live, and that if children are persuaded by them, they will be blessed, and also the family to which they belong. At the same time likewise that they say this, if they see any one of the wiser teachers of erudition approaching, or the father of the child to whom they are speaking, such of them as are more cautious defer their discussion to another time; but those that are more audacious, urge the children to shake off the reins of parental authority, whispering to them, that when their fathers and preceptors are present, they neither wish nor are able to unfold to children what is good, as they are deterred by the folly and rusticity of these men, who are entirely corrupted, are excessively depraved, and would punish them [their true admonishers]. They further add, that if they wish to be instructed by them, it is requisite that they should leave their parents and preceptors, and go with women and little children, who are their playfellows, to the conclave of women, or to the shoemaker's or fuller's shop, that they may obtain perfection [by embracing their doctrines]. "That I do not however accuse the Christians more bitterly than truth compels, may be conjectured from hence, that the criers who call men to other mysteries proclaim as follows: 'Let him approach, {22} whose hands are pure, and whose words are wise.' And again, others proclaim: 'Let him approach, who is pure from all wickedness, whose soul is not conscious of any evil, and who leads a just and upright life.' And these things are proclaimed by those who promise a purification from error. Let us now hear who those are that are called to the Christian mysteries. '_Whoever is a sinner, whoever is unwise, whoever is a fool, and whoever, in short, is miserable, him the kingdom of God will receive_.' Do you not therefore call a sinner, an unjust man, a thief, a housebreaker, a wizard, one who is sacrilegious, and a robber of sepulchres? What other persons would the crier nominate, who should call robbers together? "God, according to the Christians, descended to men; and, as consequent to this, it was fancied that he had left his own proper abode. "God, however, being unknown among men [as the Christians say], and in consequence of this appearing to be in a condition inferior to that of a divine being, was not willing to be known, and therefore made trial of those who believed and of those who did not believe in him; just as men who have become recently rich, call on God as a witness of their abundant and entirely mortal ambition. {23} "The Christians have asserted nothing paradoxical or new concerning a deluge or a conflagration, but have perverted the doctrine of the Greeks and barbarians, that in long periods of time, and recursions and concursions of the stars, conflagrations and deluges take place; and also that after the last deluge, which was that of Deucalion, the period required, conformably to the mutation of wholes, a conflagration*. This the Christians, however, have perverted by representing God as descending with fire as a spy. "Again, we will repeat and confirm by many arguments, an assertion which has nothing in it novel, but was formerly universally acknowledged. God is good, is beautiful and blessed, and his very nature consists in that which is most beautiful and the best. If therefore he descended to men, his nature must necessarily be changed. But the change must be from good to evil, and from the beautiful to the base, from felicity to infelicity, and from that which is most excellent to that which is most worthless. Who, however, would choose to be thus changed? Besides, to be changed and transformed pertains to that which is naturally mortal; but an invariable * See Taylor's translation of Proclus on the Timæus of Plato, Book I. {24} sameness of subsistence is the prerogative of an immortal nature. Hence God could never receive a mutation of this kind*. "Either God is in reality changed, as the Christians say, into a mortal body,--and we have before shown that this is impossible; or he himself is not changed, but he causes those who behold him to think that he is, and thus falsifies himself, and involves others in error. Deception, however, and falsehood are indeed otherwise evil, and can only be [properly] employed by any one as a medicine, either in curing friends that are diseased or have some vicious propensity, or those that are insane, or for the purpose of avoiding danger from enemies. But no one who has vicious propensities, or is insane, is dear to Divinity. Nor does God fear any one, in order that by wandering he may escape danger**. * See a most admirable defence of the immutability of Divinity, by Proclus, in Taylor's Introduction to the Second and Third Books of Plato's Republic, in vol. i. of his translation of Plato's Works. See also Taylor's note at the end of vol. iii. of his translation of Pausanias, p. 235. ** The original of this sentence is, [--------] the latter part of which, [--------], is thus, erroneously translated by Spencer, "ut imposture opus habeat ad evadendum periculum." {25} "The Christians, adding to the assertions of the Jews, say that the son of God came on account of the sins of the Jews; and that the Jews, punishing Jesus and causing him to drink _gall_, raised the _bile_ of God against them." Celsus after this, in his usual way deriding both Jews and Christians, compares all of them to a multitude of bats, or to ants coming out of their holes, or to frogs seated about a marsh, or to earthworms that assemble in a corner of some muddy place, and contend with each other which of them are most noxious. He likewise represents them as saying, "God has manifested and predicted all things to us; and deserting the whole world and the celestial circulation, and likewise paying no attention to the widely-extended earth, he regards our concerns alone, to us alone sends messengers, and he will never cease to explore by what means we may always associate with him." He likewise resembles us to earthworms acknowledging that God exists; and he says that we earthworms, i. e. the Jews and Christians, being produced by God after him, are entirely similar to him. All things too are subject to us, earth and water, the air and the stars, and are ordained to be subservient to us*. Afterwards * This reminds me of the following beautiful lines in... {26} these earthworms add: "Now because some of us have sinned, God will come, or he will send his son, in order that he may burn the unjust, and that those who are not so may live eternally with him." And Celsus concludes with observing that "such assertions would be more tolerable if they were made by earthworms or frogs, than by Jews or Christians contending with each other." Celsus, after having adduced, from the writings of the heathens, instances of those who contended for the antiquity of their race, such as the Athenians, Egyptians, Arcadians, and Phrygians, and also of those who have asserted that some among them were aborigines, says, that "the Jews being concealed in a corner of Palestine, men perfectly in-erudite, and who never had previously heard the same things celebrated by Hesiod and innumerable ...Epistle I. of Pope's Essay on Man, in which Pride is represented as saying: "For me kind nature wakes her genial power, Suckles each herb, and spreads out every flower; Annual for me the grape, the rose, renew The juice nectarious and the balmy dew. For me the mine a thousand treasures brings: For me health gushes from a thousand springs; Seas roll to waft me, suns to light me rise, My footstool earth, my canopy the skies." {27} other divine men, composed a most incredible and inelegant narration, that a certain man was fashioned by the hands of God, and inspired by him with the breath of life; that a woman was taken from the side of the man; that precepts were given to them by God; and that a serpent was adverse to these precepts. Lastly, they make the serpent to frustrate the commands of God: in all this, narrating a certain fable worthy only of being told by old women, and which most impiously makes God to be from the first imbecile, and incapable of persuading one man fashioned by himself to act in a way conformable to his will. "The Christians are most impiously deceived and involved in error, through the greatest ignorance of the meaning of divine enigmas. For they make a certain being whom they call the Devil, and who in the Hebrew tongue is denominated Satan, hostile to God. It is therefore perfectly stupid and unholy to assert that the greatest God, wishing to benefit mankind, was incapable of accomplishing what he wished, through having one that opposed him, and acted contrary to his will. The son of God, therefore, was vanquished by the devil; and being punished by him, teaches us also to despise the punishments inflicted by him; Christ at the same time predicting that Satan would appear on {28} the earth, and, like himself, would exhibit great and admirable works, usurping to himself the glory of God. The son of God also adds, that it is not fit to pay attention to Satan, because he is a seducer, but that himself alone is worthy of belief. This, however, is evidently the language of a man who is an impostor earnestly endeavouring to prevent, and previously guarding himself against, the attempts of those who think differently from and oppose him. But, according to the Christians, the son of God is punished by the devil, who also punishes us in order that through this we may be exercised in endurance. These assertions, however, are perfectly ridiculous. For it is fit, I think, that the devil should be punished, and not that men should be threatened with punishment who are calumniated by him. "Further still: If God, like Jupiter in the comedy, being roused from a long sleep, wished to liberate the human race from evils, why did he send only into a corner of the earth this spirit of whom you boast? though he ought in a similar manner to have animated many other bodies, and to have sent them to every part of the habitable globe. The comic poet indeed, in order to excite the laughter of the audience in the theatre, says that Jupiter, after he was roused from his sleep, sent Mercury to the Athenians and Lacedæmonsians:--but do not {29} you think that it is a much more ridiculous fiction to assert that God sent his son to the Jews? "Many--and these, men whose names are not known,--both in temples and out of temples, and some also assembling in cities or armies, are easily excited from any casual cause, as if they possessed a prophetic power. Each of these likewise is readily accustomed to say, 'I am God, or the son of God, or a divine spirit. But I came because the world will soon be destroyed, and you, O men! on account of your iniquities will perish. I wish, however, to save you, and you shall again see me, returning with a celestial army. Blessed is he who now worships me; but I will cast all those who do not, into eternal fire, together with the cities and regions to which they belong. Those men also that do not now know the punishments which are reserved for them, shall afterwards repent and lament in vain: but those who believe in me I will for ever save.' Extending to the multitude these insane and perfectly obscure assertions, the meaning of which no intelligent man is able to discover,--for they are unintelligible and a mere nothing,--they afford an occasion to the stupid and to jugglers of giving to them whatever interpretation they please. "Again, they do not consider, if the prophets of {30} the God of the Jews had predicted that this would be his son, why did this God legislatively ordain through Moses, that the Jews should enrich themselves and acquire power; should fill the earth with their progeny; and should slay and cut off the whole race of their enemies, which Moses did, as he says, in the sight of the Jews; and besides this, threatening that unless they were obedient to these his commands, he should consider them as his enemies;--why, after these things had been promulgated by God, did his son, a Nazarean man, exclude from any access to his father, the rich and powerful, the wise and renowned? For he says that we ought to pay no more attention than ravens do, to food and the necessaries of life*, and that we should be less concerned about our clothing than the lilies of the field. Again, he asserts, that to him who smites us on one cheek we should likewise turn the other**. Whether, therefore, does Moses or Jesus lie? Or, was the Father who sent Jesus forgetful of what he had formerly said to Moses? Or, condemning his own laws, did he alter his opinion, and send a messenger to mankind with mandates of a contrary nature? * Luke xii. 24. ** Luke vi. 29. {31} "The Christians again will say, How can God be known unless he can be apprehended by sense? To this we reply, that such a question is not the interrogation of man, nor of soul, but of _the flesh_. At the same time, therefore, let them hear, if they are capable of hearing any thing, _as being a miserable worthless race, and lovers of body!_ If, closing the perceptive organs of sense, you look upward with the visive power of intellect, and, averting the eye of the _flesh,_ you excite the eye of the soul, you will thus alone behold God*. And if you seek for the leader of this path, you must avoid impostors and enchanters, and those who persuade you to pay attention to [real] idols; in order that you may not be entirely ridiculous, by blaspheming as idols other things which are manifestly Gods**, and venerating that which is in reality more worthless than any image, and which is not even an image, but _a dead body_***; and by investigating a Father similar to it. * This is most Platonically said by Celsus. ** Such as the sun and moon, and the other heavenly bodies. *** The Emperor Julian in the fragments of his Arguments against the Christians, 'preserved by Cyril, says, speaking to the Christians: "You do not notice whether any thing is said by the Jews about holiness; but you emulate their rage and their bitterness, overturning temples and altars, and cutting the throats not only of those who remain firm in paternal institutes, but also of... {32} "There are essence and generation, the intelligible and the visible. And truth indeed subsists with essence, but error with generation*. Science, therefore, is conversant with truth, but opinion with generation. Intelligence also pertains to, or has the intelligible for its object; but what is visible is the object of sight. And intellect indeed knows the intelligible; but the eye knows that which is visible. What the sun therefore is in the visible region,--being neither the eye, nor sight, but the cause to the eye of seeing, and to the sight of its visive power, to all sensibles of their being generated, and to himself of being perceived;--this the supreme God [or _the good_] is in intelligibles: since he is neither intellect, nor intelligence, nor science, but is the cause, to intellect, of intellectual perception; ...those heretics who are equally erroneous with yourselves, and who do not lament a dead body in the same manner as you do. For neither Jesus nor Paul exhorted you to act in this manner. But the reason is, that they did not expect you would arrive at the power which you have obtained. For they were satisfied if they could deceive maid-servants and slaves, and through these married women, and such men as Cornelius and Sergius; among whom, if you can mention one that was at that time an illustrious character, (and these things were transacted under the reign of Tiberius or Claudius,) believe that I am a liar in all things." * Generation signifies the whole of that which is visible. {33} to intelligence, of its subsistence on account of him; to science, for its possession of knowledge for his sake, and to all intelligibles for their existence as such. He is likewise the cause to truth itself and to essence itself, of their existence, being himself beyond all intelligibles, by a certain ineffable power*. And these are the assertions of men who possess intellect. But if you understand any thing of what is here said, you are indebted to us for it. If, likewise, you think that a certain spirit descending from God announced to you things of a divine nature, this will be the spirit which proclaimed what I have above said, and with which ancient men being replete, have unfolded so many things of a most beneficial nature. If, therefore, you are unable to understand these assertions, be silent, and conceal your ignorance, and do not say that those are blind who see, and that those are lame who run, * This sentence in the original is as follows: [--------]. But it is requisite to read, conformably to the above translation, [--------]. Celsus has derived what he here says from the Sixth Book of Plato's Republic, and what he says previous to this from the Timæeus of Plato.--See Taylor's translation of these Dialogues. {34} you at the same time possessing souls that are in every respect lame and mutilated, and living in body, viz. in that which is dead. "How much better would it be for you, since you are desirous of innovation, to direct your attention to some one of the illustrious dead, and concerning whom a divine fable may be properly admitted! And if Hercules and Esculapius do not please you, and other renowned men of great antiquity, you may have Orpheus, a man confessedly inspired by a sacred spirit, and who suffered a violent death. But he perhaps has been adopted as a leader formerly by others. Consider Anaxarchus, therefore, who being thrown into a mortar, and bruised in the cruellest manner, most courageously despised the punishment, exclaiming, 'Bruise, bruise the sack of Anaxarchus, for you cannot bruise him.' This, indeed, was uttered by a certain truly divine spirit. Him, however, some physiologists have already vindicated to themselves. In the next place, consider Epictetus, who when his master twisted his leg violently, said, smiling gently and without being terrified, 'You will break my leg;' and when his master had broken his leg, only observed, 'Did I not tell you that you would break it? What thing of this kind did your God utter when {35} he was punished*? The sibyl, likewise, whose verses are used by some of you, is far more worthy to be regarded by you as the daughter of God. _But now you have fraudulently and rashly inserted in her verses many things of a blasphemous nature_**; and Christ, who in his life was most reprehensible, and in his death most miserable, you reverence as a God. How much more appropriately might you have bestowed this honour on Jonas when he was under the gourd, or on Daniel who was saved in the den of lions, or on others of whom more prodigious things than these are narrated! "This is one of the precepts of the Christians: 'Do not revenge yourself on him who injures you; and if any person strikes you on one cheek, turn the other to him also.' And this precept indeed is of very great antiquity, but is recorded in a more rustic * Christ when on the cross exclaimed, "My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?" But Socrates in his Apology to his Judges, as recorded by Plato, most magnanimously said, "Anytus and Melitus may indeed put me to death, but they cannot injure me." ** The collection of the Sibylline Oracles which are now extant, are acknowledged by all intelligent men among the learned to be for the most part forgeries.--See the account of them by Fabricius in vol. i. of his Bibliootheca Græca, {36} manner by Christ. For Socrates is made by Plata in the Crito to speak as follows: 'It is by no means therefore proper to do an injury. By no means. Hence neither is it proper for him who is injured to revenge the injury, as the multitude think it is; since it is by no means fit to do an injury. It does not appear that it is. But what! is it proper or not, O Crito, to be malific? It certainly is not proper, Socrates. Is it therefore just or unjust for a man to be malific to him by whom he has been hurt? for in the opinion of the vulgar it is just. It is by no means just. For to be hurtful to men does not at all differ from injuring them. You speak the truth. Neither, therefore, is it proper to revenge an injury, nor to be hurtful to any man, whatever evil we may suffer from him.' These things are asserted by Plato, who also adds: 'Consider, therefore, well, whether you agree, and are of the same opinion with me in this; and we will begin with admitting, that it is never right either to do an injury, or revenge an injury on him who has acted badly towards us. Do you assent to this principle? For formerly it appeared, and now still appears, to me to be true.' Such, therefore, was the opinion of Plato, and which also was the doctrine of divine men prior to him. Concerning these, however, and other particulars which the Christians have corrupted, enough has been said. For he who {37} desires to search further into them, may easily be satisfied. "But why is it requisite to enumerate how many things have been foretold with a divinely inspired voice, partly by prophetesses and prophets, and partly by other men and women under the influence of inspiration? What wonderful things they have heard from the adyta themselves! How many things have been rendered manifest from victims and sacrifices to those who have used them! How many from other prodigious symbols! And to some persons, divinely luminous appearances have been manifestly present. Of these things indeed the life of every one is full. How many cities, likewise, have been raised from oracles, and liberated from disease and pestilence! And how many, neglecting these, or forgetting them, have perished miserably! How many colonies have been founded from these, and by observing their mandates have been rendered happy! How many potentates and private persons have, from attending to or neglecting these, obtained a better or a worse condition! How many, lamenting their want of children, have through these obtained the object of their wishes! How many have escaped the anger of dæmons! How many mutilated bodies have been healed! And again, how many have immediately suffered for insolent behaviour in {38} sacred concerns! some indeed becoming insane on the very spot; others proclaiming their impious deeds, but others not proclaiming them before they perished; some destroying themselves, and others becoming a prey to incurable diseases. And sometimes a dreadful voice issuing from the adyta has destroyed them*. "In the next place, is it not absurd that you should desire and hope for the resurrection of the body, as if nothing was more excellent or more honourable to us than this; and yet again, that you should hurl this same body into punishments, as a thing of a vile nature? To men, however, who are persuaded that this is true, and who are conglutinated to body, it is not worth while to speak of things of this kind. For these are men who in other respects are rustic and impure, without reason, and labouring under the disease of sedition. Indeed, those who hope that the soul or intellect will exist eternally, whether they are willing to call it pneumatic**, or an intellectual spirit holy and blessed, or a living soul, or the supercelestial and * See the scientific theory of Oracles unfolded in the Notes to Taylor's translation of Pausanias, vol. iii. p. 259. ** This is said conformably to the opinion of the Stoics. {39} incorruptible progeny of a divine and incorporeal nature*, or whatever other appellation they may think fit to give it; those who thus hope, (but I say this in accordance with Divinity,) in this respect think rightly, that those who have lived well in this life will be blessed, but that those who have been entirely unjust, will be involved in endless evils. And neither the Christians nor any other man were ever hostile to this dogma. "Since men are bound to body, whether they are so for the sake of the dispensation of the whole of things, or in order that they may suffer the punishment of their offences, or in consequence of the soul through certain passions becoming heavy and tending downwards, till through certain orderly periods it becomes purified;--for according to Empedocles, it is necessary that 'From the blest wandering thrice ten thousand times, Through various mortal forms the soul should pass.'-- * This is asserted in accordance with the doctrine of the Platonists. ** This 30,000 times must not be considered mathematically; since it symbolically indicates a certain appropriate measure of perfection. For in units S is a perfect number, as having a beginning, middle, and end. And again, 10 is perfect, because it comprehends all numbers in itself. These numbers, however, were call-... {40} This being the case, it is requisite to believe that men are committed to the care of certain inspective guardians of this prison the body. "That to the least of things, however, are allotted guardian powers, may be learnt from the Egyptians, who say that the human body is divided into thirty-six parts, and that dæmons* or certain etherial gods who are distributed into the same number of parts, are the guardians of these divisions of the body. Some also assert, that there is a much greater number of these presiding powers; different corporeal parts being under the inspection of different powers. The names of these also in the vernacular tongue of the Egyptians are Chnoumën, Chnachoumën, Knat, Sicat, Biou, Erou, Erebiou, Ramanor, Reianoor. What, therefore, should prevent him from making use of these and other powers, who wishes rather to be well than to be ill, to be fortunate rather than to be unfortunate, and to be liberated from such ...ed by the ancients perfect, in a different way from 6, 28, &c.; for these were thus denominated because they are equal to the sum of their parts. * i. e. beneficent dæmonss; for the ancients divided dæmonss into the beneficent and malevolent. They also considered the former as assisting the soul in its ascent to its pristine state of felicity; but the latter as of a punishing and avenging characteristic. {41} tormentors and castigators as these things are thought to be?* "He, however, who invokes these powers ought to be careful, lest being conglutinated [as it were] to the worship of them, and to a love of the body, he should turn from and become oblivious of more excellent natures. For it is perhaps requisite not to disbelieve in wise men, who say that the greater part of circumterrestrial dæmons are conglutinated to generation, and are delighted with blood, with the odour and vapour of flesh, with melodies and with other things of the like kind**; to which being bound, they are unable to effect any thing superior to the sanction of the body, and the prediction of future events to men and cities. Whatever also pertains to mortal actions they know, and are able to bring to pass. "If some one should command a worshiper of God either to act impiously, or to say any thing of a most disgraceful nature, he is in no respect whatever to be obeyed; but all trial and every kind of death are to be endured rather than to meditate, * Vid. Salmas. In fine libri He Annis climactericis. ** See Book II. of Taylor's translation of Porphyry,--On Abstinence from Animal Food. {42} and much more to assert, any thing impious concerning God. But if any one should order us to celebrate the Sun or Minerva, we ought most gladly to sing hymns to their praise. For thus you will appear to venerate the supreme God in a greater degree *, if you also celebrate these powers: for piety when it passes through all things becomes more perfect." EXTRACTS FROM, AND INFORMATION RELATIVE TO, THE TREATISE OF PORPHYRY AGAINST THE CHRISTIANS [Illustration: Porphyry] This work of Porphyry consisted of Fifteen Books, and is unfortunately lost. It is frequently mentioned by the Fathers of the Church, from whose writings the following particulars are collected. The First Book appears to have contained a development of the contrariety of the Scriptures, and proofs that they did not proceed from Divinity, but from men. To this end Porphyry especially adduces what Paul writes to the Galatians, chap. ii. * For as the ineffable principle of things possesses all power and the highest power, he first produced from himself beings most transcendently allied to himself; and therefore, by venerating these, the highest God will be in a greater degree venerated, as being a greater veneration of his power. {43} viz. that "when Peter came to Antioch, he withstood him to his face, because he was to be blamed." Hence Porphyry infers, "that the Apostles, and indeed the chief of them, did not publicly study the salvation of all men, but that each of them was privately attentive to his own renown." This the Fathers testify in more than one place. See the Commentary of Jerome on the above-mentioned Epistle. Jerome also, in his 89th Epistle to Augustin, informs us that Porphyry says, "that Peter and Paul opposed each other in a puerile contest, and that Paul was envious of the virtue of Peter." The Third Book treated of the interpretation of the Scriptures, in which Porphyry condemned the mode of explaining them adopted by the commentators, and especially the allegories of Origen. This is evident from a long extract from this work of Porphyry given by Eusebius in Hist. Eccl. lib. i. cap. 13. The Fourth Book treated of the Mosaic history and the antiquities of the Jews, as we learn from Eusebius, Proep. Evang. lib. i. cap. 9, and from Theo-doret, Serm. ii. Therap. But the Twelfth Book was the most celebrated of all, in which Porphyry strenuously opposes the {44} prophecy of Daniel. Of this work Jerome thus speaks in the Preface to his Commentary on that prophet: "Porphyry's twelfth book is against the prophet Daniel, as he was unwilling to admit that it was written by that prophet, but contends that it was composed by a person in Judæa named Epiphanes, and who lived in the time of Antiochus. Hence he says, that Daniel does not so much narrate future as past events. Lastly, he asserts, that whatever is related as far as to the reign of Antiochus contains a true history; but that all that is said posterior to this time, as the writer was ignorant of futurity, is false." The Thirteenth Book also, according to Jerome*, was written against the same prophet; in which book, speaking of the "abomination of desolation," as it is called by Daniel, (when standing in the sacred place,) he says many reproachful things of the Christians. The same Jerome likewise, in Epist. ci., ad Pam-machium, testifies, that Porphyry accuses the history of the Evangelists of falsehood, and says** that Christ, after he had told his brethren that he should * Vid. lib. iv. Comment, in 24 Cap. Matth. ** Lib. ii. adversus Pelagianos. {45} not go up to the feast of tabernacles, yet afterwards went up to it (John vii.). Hence Porphyry accuses him of inconstancy and mutability. Jerome's observation on this is curious, viz. "Nesciens omnia scandala ad carnem esse referenda." Jerome adds (in Lib. Quasst. Hebraic, in Genesin) "that Porphyry calumniates the Evangelists for making a miracle to the ignorant, by asserting that Christ walked on the sea, calling the lake Genezareth the sea." He likewise says, that Porphyry called the miracles which were performed at the sepulchres of the martyrs, "the delusions of evil demons." The following remarkable passage from one of the lost writings of Porphyry relative to the Christians, is preserved by Augustin in his Treatise De Civit. lib. xix. cap. 23. "Sunt spiritus terreni minimi loco terreno quodam malorum dæmonum potestati subjecti. Ab his sapientes Hebræorum, quorum unus iste etiam Jesus fuit, sicut audivisti divina Apollonis oracula quæ superius dicta sunt. Ab his ergo _Hebæi_ dsemonibus pessimis et minoribus spiritibus vetabant religiosos, et ipsis vacare prohibebant: venerari autem magis coelestes Deos, amplius autem venerari Deum patrem. Hoc autem et Dii præcipiunt, et in {40} superioibus ostendimus, quemadmodum animadvertere ad Deum monent, et ilium colère ubique imperant. Verum indocti et impiæ naturae, quibus vere Fatum non concessit a Dius dona obtinere, neque habere Jovis immortalis notitiam, non audientes Deos et divinos viros; Deos quidem omnes recusaverunt, prohibitos autem dæmones non solum nullis odiis insequi, sed etiam revereri delegerunt. Deum autem simulantes se colère, ea sola per quae Deus adoratur, non agunt. Nam Deus quidem utpote omnium pater nullius indiget: sed nobis est bene, cum eum per justitiam et castitatem, aliasque virtutes adoramus, ipsam vitam precem ad ipsum fa-cientes, per imitationem et inquisitionem de ipso. Inquisitio enim purgat, imitatio deificat affectionem ad ipsum operando." i. e. "There are terrene spirits of the lowest order, who in a certain terrene place are subject to the power of evil demons. From these were derived the wise men of the Hebrews, of whom Jesus also was one; as you have heard the divine oracles of Apollo above mentioned assert. From these worst of demons therefore, and lesser spirits of the _Hebrew_, the oracles forbid the religious, and prohibit from paying attention to them, but exhort them rather to venerate the celestial gods, and still more the father of the gods. And we have above {47} shown how the gods admonish us to look to Divinity, and everywhere command us to worship him. But the unlearned and impious natures, to whom Fate has not granted truly to obtain gifts from the gods, and to have a knowledge of immortal Jupiter,--these not attending to the gods and divine men, reject indeed all the gods, and are so far from hating prohibited demons, that they even choose to reverence them*. But pretending that they worship God, they do not perform those things through which alone God is adored. For God, indeed, as being the father of all things, is not in want of any thing; but it is well with us when we adore him through justice and continence, and the other *The Platonic philosopher Sallust, in his golden book On the Gods and the World, says, alluding to the Christians, cap. 18, "Impiety, which invades some places of the earth, and which will often subsist in future, ought not to give any disturbance to the worthy mind; for things of this kind do not affect, nor can religious honours be of any advantage to the gods; and the soul from its middle nature is not always able to pursue that which is right Besides, it is not improbable that impiety is a species of punishment; for those who have known and at the same time despised the gods, we may reasonably suppose will in another life be deprived of the knowledge of their nature. And those who have honoured their proper sovereigns as gods, shall be cut off from the divinities, as the punishment of their impiety." {48} virtues, making our life a prayer to him through the imitation and investigation of him. For investigation purifies, but imitation deifies the affection of the mind by energizing about divinity." The following extract from Porphyry concerning a pestilence which raged for many years at Rome, and could not be mitigated by any sacrifices, is preserved by Theodoret: "[--------]." i. e. "The Christians now wonder that the city has been for so many years attacked by disease, the advent [or manifest appearance] of Esculapius and the other gods no longer existing. For Jesus being now reverenced and worshiped, no one any longer derives any public benefit from the gods." A FRAGMENT OF THE THIRTY-FOURTH BOOK OF DIODORUS SICULUS. "King Antiochus besieged Jerusalem; but the Jews resisted him for some time. When, however, all their provision was spent, they were forced to send ambassadors to him to treat on terms. Many of his friends persuaded him to storm the city, and {49} to root out the whole nation of the Jews; because they only, of all people, hated to converse with any of another nation, and treated all of them as enemies. They likewise suggested to him, that the ancestors of the Jews were driven out of Egypt as impious and hateful to the Gods. For their bodies being overspread and infected with the itch and leprosy, they brought them together into one place by way of expiation, and as profane and wicked wretches expelled them from their coasts. Those too that were thus expelled seated themselves about Jerusalem, and being afterwards embodied into one nation, called the nation of the Jews, their hatred of all other men descended with their blood to posterity. Hence they made strange laws, entirely different from those of other nations. In consequence of this, they will neither eat nor drink with any one of a different nation, nor wish him any prosperity. For, say they, Antiochus, surnamed Epiphanes, having subdued the Jews, entered into the temple of God, into which by their law no one was permitted to enter but the priest. Here, when he found the image of a man with a long beard carved in stone sitting on an ass, he conceived it to be Moses who built Jerusalem, established the nation, and made all their impious customs and practises legal: for these abound in hatred and enmity to all other men. Antiochus, therefore, abhorring this {50} their contrariety to all other nations, used his utmost endeavour to abrogate their laws. In order to effect this, he sacrificed a large hog at the image of Moses and at the altar of God that stood in the outward court, and sprinkled them with the blood of the sacrifice. He commanded likewise that the sacred books, whereby they were taught to hate all other nations, should be sprinkled with the broth made of the hog's flesh. And he extinguished the lamp called by them immortal, which was continually burning in the temple. Lastly, he compelled the high priest and the other Jews to eat swine's flesh. Afterwards, when Antiochus and his friends had deliberately considered these things, they urged him to root out the whole nation, or at least to abrogate their laws and compel them to change their former mode of conducting themselves in common life. But the king being generous and of a mild disposition, received hostages and pardoned the Jews. He demolished, however, the walls of Jerusalem, and took the tribute that was due." FROM MANETHO RESPECTING THE ISRAELITES. "While such was the state of things in Ethiopia, the people of Jerusalem, having come down with the defiled of the Egyptians, treated the inhabitants in such an unholy manner, that those who witnessed {51} their impieties, believed that their joint sway was more execrable than that which the shepherds had formerly exercised. For they not only set fire to the cities and villages, but committed every kind of sacrilege, and destroyed the images of the gods, and roasted and fed upon those sacred animals that were worshipped; and having compelled the priests and prophets to kill and sacrifice them, they cast them naked out of the country. It is said also that the priest who ordained their polity and laws was by birth of Heliopolis, and his name Osarsiph, from Osons the god of Heliopolis; but that when he went over to these people, his name was changed, and he was called Moÿses." Manetho again says: "After this, Amenophis returned from Ethiopia with a great force, and Rampses also his son with other forces; and encountering the shepherds and defiled people, they defeated and slew multitudes of them, add pursued them to the bounds of Syria."--Joseph contn App. lib. i. cap. 26, & 27. "Cherilus also, a still more ancient writer [than Herodotus], and a poet, makes mention of our nation, and informs us that it came to the assistance of king Xerxes in his expedition against Greece. For in his enumeration of all those nations, he last of {52} all inserts ours among the rest, when he says: "At the last, there passed over a people wonderful to behold; for they spake the Phoenician tongue, and dwelt in the Solymæan mountains, near a broad lake. Their heads were sooty; they had round rasures on them; their heads and faces were like nasty horse heads, also, that had been hardened in the smoke."--Whiston's Josephus, vol. iv. p. 299. EXTRACTS FROM THE FIFTH BOOK OF TACITUS RESPECTING THE JEWS, AS TRANSLATED BY MURPHY. "Being now to relate the progress of a siege that terminated in the destruction of that once celebrated city [Jerusalem], it may be proper to go back to its first foundation, and to trace the origin of the people. The Jews we are told were natives of the Isle of Crete. At the time when Saturn was driven from his throne by the violence of Jupiter, they abandoned their habitations, and gained a settlement at the extremity of Libya. In support of this tradition, the etymology of their name is adduced as a proof. Mount Ida, well known to fame, stands in the Isle of Crete: the inhabitants are called Idæans; and the word by a barbarous corruption was changed afterwards to that of Judæans. According to others they were a colony from Egypt, when that country, during the reign of Isis, {53} overflowing with inhabitants poured forth its redundant numbers under the conduct of Hierosolymus and Juda. A third hypothesis makes them originally Ethiopians, compelled by the tyranny of Cepheus, the reigning monarch, to abandon their country. Some authors contend that they were a tribe of Assyrians, who for some time occupied a portion of Egypt, and afterwards transplanting themselves into Syria, acquired in their own right a number of cities, together with the territories of the Hebrews. There is still another tradition, which ascribes to the Jews a more illustrious origin, deriving them from the ancient Solymans, so highly celebrated in the poetry of Homer. By that people the city was built, and from its founder received the name of Hierosolyma. "In this clash of opinions, one point seems to be universally admitted. A pestilential disease, disfiguring the race of man, and making the body an object of loathsome deformity, spread all over Egypt. Bocchoris, at that time the reigning monarch, consulted the oracle of Jupiter Ammon, and received for answer that the kingdom must be purified by exterminating the infected multitude as a race of men detested by the gods. After diligent search, the wretched sufferers were collected together, and in a wild and barren desert abandoned to their misery. In that distress, while the vulgar herd was {54} sunk in deep despair, Moses, one of their number, reminded them, that by the wisdom of his counsels they had been already rescued out of impending danger. Deserted as they were by men and gods, he told them that if they did not repose their confidence in him, as their chief by divine commission, they had no resource left. His offer was accepted. Their march began they knew not whither. Want of water was their chief distress. Worn out with fatigue they lay stretched out on the bare earth, heart-broken, ready to expire; when a troop of wild asses, returning from pasture, went up the steep ascent of a rock covered with a grove of trees. The verdure of the herbage round the place, suggested the idea of springs near at hand. Moses traced the steps of the animals, and discovered a plentiful vein of water. By this relief the fainting multitude was raised from despair. They pursued their journey for six days without intermission. On the seventh they made a halt, and having expelled the natives took possession of the country, where they built their city and dedicated their temple. "In order to draw the bond of union closer, and to establish his own authority, Moses gave a new form of worship, and a system of religious ceremonies, the reverse of every thing known to any other age or country. _Whatever is held sacred by_ {55} _the Romans, with the Jews is profane: and what in other nations is unlawful and impure, with them is fully established_. The figure of the animal that guided them to refreshing springs is consecrated in the sanctuary of their temple*. In contempt of Jupiter Hammon they sacrifice a ram. The ox worshiped in Egypt for the god Apis is slain as a victim by the Jews. From the flesh of swine they abstain altogether. An animal subject to the same leprous disease that infected their whole nation, is not deemed proper food. The famine with which they were for a long time afflicted, is frequently commemorated by a solemn fast. Their bread, in memory of their having seized a quantity of grain to relieve their wants, is made without leaven. The seventh day is sacred to rest, for on that day their labours ended; and such is their natural propensity to sloth, that in consequence of it every seventh year is devoted to repose and sluggish inactivity. For this septennial custom some account in a * Conformably to this, see what Diodorus Siculus says (in the extract given from him, p. 49.): Josephus denies that the figure of an ass was consecrated in the sanctuary of the Jewish temple. But this does not invalidate the testimony of Diodorus Siculus to the contrary. For Antiochus when he subdued the Jews might have found the image of this animal in their temple; but in the time of Josephus the ass might not have been consecrated by them. {56} different manner: they tell us that it is an institution in honour of Saturn; either because the Idæans, expelled, as has been mentioned, from the Isle of Crete, transmitted to their posterity the principles of their religious creed; or because among the seven planets that govern the universe, Saturn moves in the highest orbit, and acts with the greatest energy. It may be added that the period in which the heavenly bodies perform their revolutions is regulated by the number seven. "These rites and ceremonies, from whatever source derived, owe their chief support to their antiquity. They have other institutions, in themselves corrupt, impure, and even abominable; but eagerly embraced, as if their very depravity were a recommendation. The scum and refuse of other nations, renouncing the religion of their country, flocked in crowds to Jerusalem, enriching the place with gifts and offerings. Hence the wealth and grandeur of the state. Connected amongst themselves by the most obstinate and inflexible faith, the Jews extend their charity to all of their own persuasion, while towards the rest of mankind they nourish a sullen and inveterate hatred. Strangers are excluded from their tables. Unsociable to all others, they eat and lodge with one another only; and though addicted to sensuality, they admit no intercourse with women {57} from other nations. Among themselves their passions are without restraint. Vice itself is lawful. That they may know each other by distinctive marks, they have established the practice of circumcision. All who embrace their faith, submit to the same operation. The first elements of their religion teach their proselytes to despise the gods, to abjure their country, and forget their parents, their brothers, and their children. With the Egyptians they agree in their belief of a future state; they have the same notion of departed spirits, the same solicitude, and the same doctrine. With regard to the Deity their creed is different. The Egyptians worship various animals, and also symbolical representations, which are the work of man: the Jews acknowledge one God only, and him they adore in contemplation; condemning as impious idolaters all who, with perishable materials wrought into the human form, attempt to give a representation of the Deity. Their priests made use of fifes and cymbals; they were crowned with wreaths of ivy, and a vine wrought in gold was seen in their temple. Hence some have inferred that Bacchus, the conqueror of the East, was the object of their adoration. But the Jewish forms of worship have no conformity to the rites of Bacchus. The latter have their festive days which are always celebrated with mirth and carousing banquets. Those of the Jews are a gloomy ceremony, {58} fall of absurd enthusiasm, rueful, mean, and sordid." -------- "Chæremon *, professing to write the history of Egypt, says, that under Amenophis and his son Ramessis two hundred and fifty thousand leprous and polluted men were cast out of Egypt. Their leaders were Moses the scribe, and Josephus, who was also a sacred scribe. The Egyptian name of Moses was Tisithen, of Joseph Peteseph. These coming to Pelusium, and finding there 380,000 men left by Amenophis, which he would not admit into Egypt, making a league with them, they undertook an expedition against Egypt. Upon this Amenophis flies into Ethiopia, and his son Messenes drives out the Jews into Syria, in number about 200,000, and receives his father Amenophis out of Ethiopia. I know Lysimachus** assigns another king and another time in which Moses led the Israelites out of Egypt, and that was when Bocchoris reigned in Egypt; the nation of the Jews, being infected with leprosies and scabs and other diseases, betook themselves to the temples to beg their living, and many being tainted with the disease, there happened a dearth in Egypt. Whereupon Bocchoris consulting * Joseph, lib. i. contra Apionem. ** Idem. {59} with the oracle of Ammon, received for answer that the leprous people were to be drowned in the sea, in sheets of lead, and the scabbed were to be carried into the wilderness; who choosing Moses for their leader, conquered that country which is now called Judæa."--Greaves Pyramidograpkia, p. 26. EXTRACTS FROM THE WORKS OF THE EMPEROR JULIAN RELATIVE TO THE CHRISTIANS. [Illustration: Julian] EXTRACT FROM EPISTLE LI. TO THE ALEXANDRIANS. "As the founder of your city was Alexander, and your ruler and tutelar deity King Serapis, together with the virgin his associate, and the queen of all Egypt, Isis, * * *, you do not emulate a healthy city, but the diseased part dares to arrogate to itself the name of [the whole] city. By the gods, Men of Alexandria, I should be very much ashamed, if, in short, any Alexandrian should acknowledge himself to be a Galilæan. "The ancestors of the Hebrews were formerly slaves to the Egyptians. But now, Men of Alexandria, you, the conquerors of Egypt (for Egypt was conquered by your founder), sustain a voluntary servitude to the despisers of your national dogmas, in opposition to your ancient sacred institutions. And you do not recollect your former {60} felicity, when all Egypt had communion with the gods, and we enjoyed an abundance of good. But, tell me, what advantage has accrued to your city from those who now introduce among you a new religion? Your founder was that pious man Alexander of Macedon, who did not, by Jupiter! resemble any one of these, or any of the Hebrews, who far excelled them. Even Ptolemy, the son of Lagus, was also superior to them. As to Alexander, if he had encountered, he would have endangered even the Romans. What then did the Ptolemies, who succeeded your founder? Educating your city, like their own daughter, from her infancy, they did not bring her to maturity by the discourses of Jesus, nor did they construct the form of government, through which she is now happy, by the doctrine of the odious Galilæans. "Thirdly: After the Romans became its masters, taking it from the bad government of the Ptolemies, Augustus visited your city, and thus addressed the citizens: 'Men of Alexandria, I acquit your city of all blame, out of regard to the great god Serapis, and also for the sake of the people, and the grandeur of the city. A third cause of my kindness to you is my friend Areus.' This Areus, the companion of Augustus Caesar, and a philosopher, was your fellow-citizen. {61} "The particular favours conferred on your city by the Olympic gods were, in short, such as these. Many more, not to be prolix, I omit. But those blessings which the apparent gods bestow in common every day, not on one family, nor on a single city, but on the whole world, why do you not acknowledge? Are you alone insensible of the splendour that flows from the sun? Are you alone ignorant that summer and winter are produced by him, and that all things are alone vivified and alone germinate from him? Do you not, also, perceive the great advantages that accrue to your city from the moon, from him and by him the fabricator of all things? Yet you dare not worship either of these deities; but this Jesus, whom neither you nor your fathers have seen, you think must necessarily be God the word, while him, whom from eternity every generation of mankind has seen, and sees and venerates, and by venerating lives happily, I mean the mighty sun, a living, animated, intellectual, and beneficent image of the intelligible Father, you despise. If, however, you listen to my admonitions, you will by degrees return to truth. You will not wander from the right path, if you will be guided by him, who to the twentieth year of his age pursued that road, but has now worshiped the gods for near twelve years." {62} EXTRACTS FROM THE FRAGMENT OF AN ORATION OR EPISTLE ON THE DUTIES OF A PRIEST. "If any are detected behaving disorderly to their prince, they are immediately punished; but those who refuse to approach the gods, are possessed by a tribe of evil dæmons, who driving many of the atheists [i. e. of the Christians] to distraction, make them think death desirable, that they may fly up into heaven, after having forcibly dislodged their souls. Some of them prefer deserts to towns; but man, being by nature a gentle and social animal, they also are abandoned to evil dæmons, who urge them to this misanthropy; and many of them* have had recourse to chains and collars. Thus, on all sides, they are impelled by an evil dæmons, to whom they have voluntarily surrendered themselves, by forsaking the eternal and saviour gods. "Statues and altars, and the preservation of the unextinguished fire, and in short all such particulars, have been established by our fathers, as symbols of the presence of the gods; not that we should believe that these symbols are gods, but that through these we should worship the gods. For since we are connected with body, it is also * i. e. The Cappadocian monks and hermits. {63} necessary that our worship of the gods should be performed in a corporeal manner; but they are incorporeal. And they, indeed, have exhibited to us as the first of statues, that which ranks as the second genus of gods from the first, and which circularly revolves round the whole of heaven*. Since, however, a corporeal worship cannot even be paid to these, because they are naturally unindigent, a third kind of statues was devised in the earth, by the worship of which we render the gods propitious to us. For as those who reverence the images of kings, who are not in want of any such reverence, at the same time attract to themselves their benevolence; thus, also, those who venerate the statues of the gods, who are not in want of any thing, persuade the gods by this veneration to assist and be favourable to them. For alacrity in the performance of things in our power is a document of true sanctity; and it is very evident that he who accomplishes the former, will in a greater degree possess the latter. But he who despises things in his power, and afterwards pretends to desire impossibilities, evidently does not pursue the * Meaning those divine bodies the celestial orbs, which in consequence of participating a divine life from the incorporeal powers from which they are suspended, may be very properly called secondary gods. {64} latter, but overlooks the former. For though divinity is not in want of any thing, it does not follow that on this account nothing is to be offered to him. For neither is he in want of celebration through the ministry of _words_. What then? Is it, therefore, reasonable that he should also be deprived of this? By no means. Neither, therefore, is he to be deprived of the honour which is paid him through _works_; which honour has been legally established, not for three or for three thousand years, but in all preceding ages, among all nations of the earth. "But [the Galilaeans will say], O! you who have admitted into your soul every multitude of dæmons, whom, though according to you they are formless and unfigured, you have fashioned in a corporeal resemblance, it is not fit that honour should be paid to divinity through such works. How, then, do we not consider as wood and stones those statues which are fashioned by the hands of men? O more stupid than even stones themselves! Do you fancy that all men are to be drawn by the nose as you are drawn by execrable dæmonss, so as to think that the artificial resemblances of the gods are the gods themselves? Looking, therefore, to the resemblances of the gods, we do not think them to be either stones or wood; for neither do we {65} think that the gods are these resemblances; since neither do we say that royal images are wood, or stone, or brass, nor that they are the kings therefore, but the images of kings. Whoever, therefore, loves his king, beholds with pleasure the image of his king; whoever loves his child is delighted with his image; and whoever loves his father surveys his image with delight. Hence, also, he who is a lover of divinity gladly surveys the statues and images of the gods; at the same time venerating and fearing with a holy dread the gods who invisibly behold him*. If, therefore, some * The Catholics have employed similar arguments in defence of the reverence which they pay to the images of the men whom they call saints. But the intelligent reader need not be told, that it is one thing to venerate the images of those divine powers which proceed from the great first Cause of all things, and eternally subsist concentrated and rooted in him, and another to reverence the images of men, who when living were the disgrace of human nature. In addition to what is said by Julian on this subject, the following extract from the treatise of Sallust, on the Gods, and the World, is well worthy the attentive perusal of the reader: "A divine nature is not indigent of any thing; but the honours which we pay to the gods are performed for the sake of our advantage. And since the providence of the gods is everywhere extended, a certain habitude or fitness is all that is requisite, in order to receive their beneficent communications. But all habitude is produced through imitation and similitude. Hence temples imitate the heavens, but altars,... {66} one should fancy that these ought never to be corrupted, because they were once called the images of the gods, such a one appears to me to be perfectly void of intellect. For if this were admitted, it is also requisite that they should not be made by men. That, however, which is produced by a wise and good man may be corrupted by a depraved and ignorant man. But the gods which circularly revolve about the heavens, and which are living statues, fashioned by the gods themselves as resemblances of their unapparent essence,--these remain for ever. No one, therefore, should disbelieve in the gods, in consequence of seeing and hearing that some persons have behaved insolently towards statues and temples. For have there not been many who have destroyed good men, such as Socrates and Dion, and the great Empedotimus? And who, I well know, have, more than statues or temples, been taken care of by the gods. See, however, that the gods, knowing the body of these to ...the earth; statues resemble life, and on this account they are similar to animals. Prayers imitate that which is intellectual; but characters, superior ineffable powers. Herbs and stones resemble matter; and animals which are sacrificed, the irrational life of our souls. But, from all these, nothing happens to the gods beyond what they already possess; for what accession can be made to a divine nature? But a conjunction with our souls and the gods is by these means produced. {67} be corruptible, have granted that it should yield and be subservient to nature, but afterwards have punished those by whom it was destroyed; which clearly happened to be the case with all the sacrilegious of our time. "Let no one, therefore, deceive us by words, nor disturb us with respect to providential interference. For as to the prophets of the Jews, who reproach us with things of this kind, what will they say of their own temple, which has been thrice destroyed, but has not been since, even to the present time, rebuilt? I do not, however, say this as reproaching them; for I have thought of rebuilding it, after so long a period, in honour of the divinity who is invoked in it. But I have mentioned this, being willing to show, that it is not possible for any thing human to be incorruptible; and that the prophets who wrote things of this kind were delirious, and the associates of stupid old women. Nothing, however, hinders, I think, but that God may be great, and yet he may not have worthy interpreters [of his will]. But this is because they have not delivered their soul to be purified by the liberal disciplines; nor their eyes, which are profoundly closed, to be opened; nor the darkness which oppresses them to be purged away. Hence, like men who survey a great light through thick darkness, {68} neither see purely nor genuinely, and in consequence of this do not conceive it to be a pure light, but a fire, and likewise perceiving nothing of all that surrounds it, they loudly exclaim, _Be seized with horror, be afraid, fire, flame, death, a knife, a two-edged sword_; expressing by many names the one noxious power of fire. Of these men, however, it is better peculiarly to observe how much inferior their teachers of the words of God are to our poets." AN EDICT, FORBIDDING THE CHRISTIANS TO TEACH THE LIFE-RATURE OF THE HEATHENS. "We are of opinion that proper erudition consists not in words, nor in elegant and magnificent language, but in the sane disposition of an intelligent soul, and in true opinions of good and evil, and of what is beautiful and base. Whoever, therefore, thinks one thing, and teaches another to his followers, appears to be no less destitute of erudition than he is of virtue. Even in trifles, if the mind and tongue be at variance, there is some kind of improbity. But in affairs of the greatest consequence, if a man thinks one thing, and teaches another contrary to what he thinks, in what respect does this differ from the conduct of those mean-spirited, dishonest, and abandoned traders, who generally affirm what they know to be false, in order to deceive and inveigle customers? {60} "All, therefore, who profess to teach, ought to possess worthy manners, and should never entertain opinions opposite to those of the public; but such especially, I think, ought to be those who instruct youth, and explain to them the works of the ancients, whether they are orators or grammarians; but particularly if they are sophists. For these last affect to be the teachers, not only of words, but of manners, and assert that political philosophy is their peculiar province. Whether, therefore, this be true or not, I shall not at present consider. I commend those who make such specious promises, and should commend them much more, if they did not falsify and contradict themselves, by thinking one thing, and teaching their scholars another. What then? Were not Homer, Hesiod, Demosthenes, Herodotus, Thucydides, Isocrates, and Lysias, the leaders of all erudition? And did not some of them consider themselves sacred to Mercury, but others to the Muses? I think, therefore, it is absurd for those who explain their works to despise the gods whom they honoured. "I do not mean (for I think it would be absurd) that they should change their opinions for the sake of instructing youth; but I give them their option, either not to teach what they do not approve, or, if they choose to teach, first to persuade their {70} scholars that neither Homer, nor Hesiod, nor any of those whom they expound and charge with impiety, madness, and error concerning the gods, are really such as they represent them to be. For as they receive a stipend, and are maintained by their works, if they can act with such duplicity for a few drachms, they confess themselves guilty of the most sordid avarice. "Hitherto, indeed, many causes have prevented their resorting to the temples; and the dangers that everywhere impended, were a plea for concealing the most true opinions of the gods. But now, since the gods have granted us liberty, it seems to me absurd for any to teach those things to men which they do not approve. And if they think that those writers whom they expound, and of whom they sit as interpreters, are wise, let them first zealously imitate their piety towards the gods. But if they think they have erred in their conceptions of the most honourable natures [the gods], let them go into the churches of the Galilæans, and there expound Matthew and Luke, by whom being persuaded you forbid sacrifices. I wish that your ears and your tongues were (as you express it) regenerated in those things of which I wish that myself, and all who in thought and deed are my friends, may always be partakers. {71} "To masters and teachers let this be a common law. But let no youths be prevented from resorting to whatever schools they please. It would be as unreasonable to exclude children, who know not yet what road to take, from the right path, as it would be to lead them by fear and with reluctance to the religious rites of their country. And though it would be just to cure such reluctance, like madness, even by force, yet let all be indulged with that disease. For I think it is requisite to instruct, and not to punish the ignorant." {72} APPENDIX LIBANIUS'S ORATION FOR THE TEMPLES*. [The occasion of the oration was this. In the reign of Theodosius several heathen temples, some of them very magnificent, were pulled down and destroyed in the cities, and especially in country-places, by the monks, with the consent and connivance, as Libanius intimates, of the bishops, and without express order of the Emperor to that purpose. Of this Libanius complains, and implores the Emperor's protection, that the temples may be preserved.] "Having already, O Emperor, often offered advice which has been approved by you, even when others have advised contrary things, I come to you now upon the same design, and with the same hopes, that now especially you will be persuaded by me. But if not, do not judge the speaker an * From Dr. Lardner's Heathen Testimonies. {73} enemy to your interests, considering, beside other things, the great honour* which you have conferred upon me, and that it is not likely that he who is under so great obligations should not love his benefactor. And, for that very reason, I think it my duty to advise, where I apprehend I have somewhat to offer which may be of advantage; for I have no other way of showing my gratitude to the Emperor but by orations, and the counsel delivered in them. "I shall, indeed, appear to many to undertake a matter full of danger in pleading with you for the temples, that they may suffer no injury, as they now do. But they who have such apprehensions seem to me to be very ignorant of your true character. For I esteem it the part of an angry and severe disposition, for any one to resent the proposal of counsel which he does not approve of: but the part of a mild and gentle and equitable disposition, such as yours is, barely to reject counsel not approved of. For when it is in the power of him to whom the address is made to embrace any counsel or not, it is not reasonable to refuse a hearing which can do no harm; nor yet to resent and punish the proposal of counsel, if it appear contrary to his own judgment; * The office of Præfectus Prætorio. {74} when the only thing that induced the adviser to mention it, was a persuasion of its usefulness. "I entreat you, therefore, O Emperor, to turn your countenance to me while I am speaking, and not to cast your eyes upon those who in many things aim to molest both you and me; forasmuch as oftentimes a look is of greater effect than all the force of truth. I would further insist, that they ought to permit me to deliver my discourse quietly and without interruption; and then, afterwards, they may do their best to confute us by what they have to say. [Here is a small breach in the Oration. But he seems to have begun his argument with an account of the origin of temples, that they were first of all erected in country places.] Men then having at first secured themselves in dens and cottages, and having there experienced the protection of the gods, they soon perceived how beneficial to mankind their favour must be: they therefore, as may be sup-, posed, erected to them statues and temples, such as they could in those early times. And when they began to build cities, upon the increase of arts and sciences, there were many temples on the sides of mountains and in plains: and in every city [as they built it] next to the walls were temples and sacred edifices raised, as the beginning of the rest of the body. For from such governors they expected the {75} greatest security: and, if you survey the whole Roman empire, you will find this to be the case every where. For in the city next to the greatest * there are still some temples**, though they are deprived of their honours; a few indeed out of many, but yet it is not quite destitute. And with the aid of these gods the Romans fought and conquered their enemies; and having conquered them, they improved their condition, and made them happier than they were before their defeat; lessening their fears and making them partners in the privileges of the commonwealth. And when I was a child, he*** led the Gallic army overthrew him that had affronted him; they having first prayed to the gods for success before they engaged. But having prevailed over him who at that time gave prosperity to the cities, judging it for his advantage to have another deity, for the building of the city which he then designed he made use of the sacred money, but made no alteration in the legal worship. The temples indeed were impoverished, but the rites were still performed there. But when the empire came to his son****, or rather the form of empire, for the government was really in the hands of others, who * He means Constantinople. ** He alludes to the ancient temples of Byzantium. *** Constantine. **** Constantius. {78} from the beginning had been his masters, and to whom he vouchsafed equal power with himself: he therefore being governed by them, even when he was Emperor, was led into many wrong actions, and among others to forbid sacrifices. These his cousin*, possessed of every virtue, restored: what he did otherwise, or intended to do, I omit at present. After his death in Persia, the liberty of sacrificing remained for some time: but at the instigation of some innovators, sacrifices were forbidden by the two brothers**, but not incense;--which state of things your law has ratified. So that we have not more reason to be uneasy for what is denied us, than to be thankful for what is allowed. You, therefore, have not ordered the temples to be shut up, nor forbidden any to frequent them: nor have you driven from the temples or the altars, fire or frankincense, or other honours of incense. But those black-garbed people***, who eat more than elephants, and demand a large quantity of liquor from the people who send them drink for their chantings, but who hide their luxury by their pale artificial countenances,--these men, O Emperor, even whilst your law is in force, run to the temples, bringing with them wood, and stones, and iron, and * Julian. **Valentinian and Valens. *** The monks. {77} when they have not these, hands and feet. Then follows a Mysian prey*, the roofs are uncovered, walls are pulled down, images are carried off, and altars are overturned: the priests all the while must be silent upon pain of death. When they have destroyed one temple they run to another, and a third, and trophies are erected upon trophies: which are all contrary to [your] law. This is the practice in cities, but especially in the countries. And there are many enemies every where. After innumerable mischiefs have been perpetrated, the scattered multitude unites and comes together, and they require of each other an account of what they have done; and he is ashamed who cannot tell of some great injury which he has been guilty of. They, therefore, spread themselves over the country like torrents, wasting the countries together with the temples: for wherever they demolish the temple of a country, at the same time the country itself is blinded, declines, and dies. For, O Emperor, the temples are the soul of the country; they have been the first original of the buildings in the country, and they have subsisted for many ages to this time; and in * This proverbial expression took its rise from the Mysians, who, in the absence of their king Telephus, being plundered by their neighbours, made no resistance. Hence it came to be applied to any persons who were passive under injuries. {78} them are all the husbandman's hopes, concerning men, and women, and children, and oxen, and the seeds and the plants of the ground. Wherever any country has lost its temples, that country is lost, and the hopes of the husbandmen, and with them all their alacrity: for they suppose they shall labour in vain, when they are deprived of the gods who should bless their labours; and the country not being cultivated as usual, the tribute is diminished. This being the state of things, the husbandman is impoverished, and the revenue suffers. For, be the will ever so good, impossibilities are not to be surmounted. Of such mischievous consequence are the arbitrary proceedings of those persons in the country, who say, 'they fight with the temples.' But that war is the gain of those who oppress the inhabitants: and robbing these miserable people of their goods, and what they had laid up of the fruits of the earth for their sustenance, they go off as with the spoils of those whom they have conquered. Nor are they satisfied with this, for they also seize the lands of some, saying it is sacred: and many are deprived of their paternal inheritance upon a false pretence. Thus these men riot upon other people's misfortunes, who say they worship God with fasting. And if they who are abused come to the pastor in the city, (for so they call a man who is not one of the meekest,) complaining of the injustice that has been done {79} them, this pastor commends these, but rejects the others, as if they ought to think themselves happy that they have suffered no more. Although, O Emperor, these also are your subjects, and so much more profitable than those who injure them, as laborious men are than the idle: for they are like bees, these like drones. Moreover, if they hear of any land which has any thing that can be plundered, they cry presently, 'Such an one sacrificeth, and does abominable things, and an army ought to be sent against him.' And presently the reformers are there: for by this name they call their depredators, if I have not used too soft a word. Some of these strive to conceal themselves and deny their proceedings; and if you call them robbers, you affront them. Others glory and boast, and tell their exploits to those who are ignorant of them, and say they are more deserving than the husbandmen. Nevertheless, what is this but in time of peace to wage war with the husbandmen? For it by no means lessens these evils that they suffer from their countrymen. But it is really more grievous to suffer the things which I have mentioned in a time of quiet, from those who ought to assist them in a time of trouble. For you, O Emperor, in case of a war collect an army, give out orders, and do every thing suitable to the emergency. And the new works which you now carry on are designed as a further {80} security against our enemies, that all may be safe in their habitations, both in the cities and in the country: and then if any enemies should attempt inroads, they may be sensible they must suffer loss rather than gain any advantage. How is it, then, that some under your government disturb others equally under your government, and permit them not to enjoy the common benefits of it? How do they not defeat your own care and providence and labours, O Emperor? How do they not fight against your law by what they do? "But they say, 'We have only punished those who sacrifice, and thereby transgress the law, which forbids sacrifices.' O Emperor, when they say this they lie. For no one is so audacious, and so ignorant of the proceedings of the courts, as to think himself more powerful than the law. When 1 say the law, I mean the law against sacrifice». Can it be thought, that they who are not able to bear the sight of a collector s cloak, should despise the power of your government? This is what they say for themselves. And they have been often alleged to Flavian* himself, and never have been confuted, no not yet. For I appeal to the guardians of this law: Who has known any of those whom you have * Bishop of Antioch {81} plundered to have sacrificed upon the altars, so as the law does not permit? What young or old person, what man, what woman? Who of those inhabiting the same country, and not agreeing with the sacrificers in the worship of the gods? Who of their neighbours? For envy and jealousy are common in neighbourhoods. Whence some would gladly come as an evidence if any such thing had been done: and yet no one has appeared, neither from the one nor from the other: [that is, neither from the country, nor from the neighbourhood.] Nor will there ever appear, for fear of perjury, not to say the punishment of it. Where then is the truth of this charge, when they accuse those men of sacrificing contrary to law? "But this shall not suffice for an excuse to the Emperor. Some one therefore may say: 'They have not sacrificed.' Let it be granted. But oxen have been killed at feasts and entertainments and merry meetings. Still there is no altar to receive the blood, nor a part burned, nor do salt-cakes precede, nor any libation follow. But if some persons meeting together in some pleasant field kill a calf, or a sheep, or both, and roasting part and broiling the rest, have eat it under a shade upon the ground, I do not know that they have acted contrary to any laws. For neither have you, O Emperor, forbid {82} these things by your law; but mentioning one thing, which ought not to be done, you have permitted every thing else. So that though they should have feasted together with all sorts of incense, they have not transgressed the law, even though in that feast they should all have sung and invoked the gods. Unless you think fit to accuse even their private method of eating, by which it has been customary for the inhabitants of several places in the country to assemble together in those [places] which are the more considerable, on holidays, and having sacrificed, to feast together. This they did whilst the law permitted them to do it. Since that, the liberty has continued for all the rest except sacrificing. When, therefore, a festival day invited them, they accepted the invitation, and with those things which might be done without offence or danger, they have honoured both the day and the place. But that they ventured to sacrifice, no one has said, nor heard, nor proved, nor been credited: nor have any of their enemies pretended to affirm it upon the ground of his own sight, nor any credible account he has received of it. "They will further say: 'By this means some have been converted, and brought to embrace the same religious sentiments with themselves.' Be not deceived by what they say; they only pretend it, but are not convinced: for they are averse to {83} nothing more than this, though they say the contrary. For the truth is, they have not changed the objects of their worship, but only appear to have done so. They join themselves with them in appearance, and outwardly perform the same things that they do: but when they are in a praying posture, they address to no one, or else they invoke the gods; not rightly indeed in such a place, but yet they invoke them. Wherefore as in a tragedy he who acts the part of a king is not a king, but the same person he was before he assumed the character, so every one of these keeps himself the same he was, though he seems to them to be changed. And what advantage have they by this, when the profession only is the same with theirs, but a real agreement with them is wanting? for these are things to which men ought to be persuaded, not compelled. And when a man cannot accomplish that, and yet will practise this, nothing is effected, and he may perceive the weakness of the attempt. It is said that this is not permitted by their own laws, which commend persuasion, and condemn compulsion. Why then do you run mad against the temples? When you cannot persuade, you use force. In this you evidently transgress your own laws. "But they say: 'It is for the good of the world, and the men in it, that there should be no temples.' {84} Here, O Emperor, I need freedom of speech; for I fear lest I should offend. Let then any of them tell me, who have left the tongs and the hammer and the anvil, and pretend to talk of the heavens, and of them that dwell there, what rites the Romans followed, who arose from small and mean beginnings, and went on prevailing, and grew great; theirs, or these, whose are the temples and the altars, from whom they knew by the soothsayers, what they ought to do, or not to do? [Here Libanius instanceth in the successes of Agamemnon against Troy; and of Hercules before, against the same place; and some other things.] And many other wars might be mentioned, which have been successfully conducted, and after that peace obtained, by the favour and under the direction of the gods. But, what is the most considerable of all, they who seemed to despise this way of worship, have honoured it against their will. Who are they? They who have not ventured to forbid sacrifices at Rome. But if all this affair of sacrifices be a vain thing, why has not this vain thing been prohibited? And if it be hurtful likewise, why not much more? But if in the sacrifices there performed consists the stability of the empire, it ought to be reckoned beneficial to sacrifice every where; and to be allowed that the dæmonss at Rome confer greater benefits, these in the country and other cities less. This is {85} what may be reasonably granted: for in an army all are not equal; yet in a battle the help of each one is of use: the like may be said of rowers in a vessel. So one [dæmons] defends the sceptre of Rome, another protects a city subject to it, another preserves the country and gives it felicity. Let there then be temples every where. Or let those men confess, that you are not well affected to Rome in permitting her to do things by which she suffers damage. But neither is it at Rome only that the liberty of sacrificing remains, but also in the city of Serapis*, that great and populous city, which has a multitude of temples, by which it renders the plenty of Egypt common to all men. This [plenty] is the work of the Nile. It therefore celebrates the Nile, and persuades him to rise and overflow the fields. If those rites were not performed, when and by whom they ought, he would not do so. Which they themselves seem to be sensible of, who willingly enough abolish such things, but do not abolish these; but permit the river to enjoy his ancient rites, for the sake of the benefit he affords. "'What then,' some will say: 'Since there is not in every country a river to do what the Nile does * i. e. Alexandria. The temple of Serapis was destroyed in 391. {86} for the earth, there is no reason for temples in those places. Let them therefore suffer what these good people think fit.' Whom I would willingly ask this question: Whether, changing their mind, they will dare to say, Let there be an end of these things done by [or for] the Nile: let not the earth partake of his waters: let nothing be sown nor reaped: let him afford no corn, nor any other product, nor let the mud overflow the whole land, as at present. If they dare not own this, by what they forbear to say they confute what they do say: for they who do not affirm that the Nile ought to be deprived of his honours, confess that the honours paid to the temples are useful. "And since they mention him* who spoiled the temples [of their revenues and gifts], we shall omit observing that he did not proceed to the taking away the sacrifices. But who ever suffered a greater punishment for taking away the sacred money [out of the temples], partly in what he brought upon himself; partly in what he suffered after his death, insomuch that his family destroyed one another, till there were none left? And it had been much better for him that some of his posterity should reign, than to enlarge with buildings a city of * Constantine {87} his own name: for the sake of which city itself all men still curse his memory, except those who live there in wicked luxury, because by their poverty these have their abundance. "And since next to him they mention his son *, and how he destroyed the temples, when they who polled them down took no less pains in destroying them, than the builders had done in raising them,---so laborious a work was it to separate the stones cemented by the strongest bands;--since, I say, they mention these things, I will mention somewhat yet more considerable. That he indeed made presents of the temples to those who were about him, just as he might give a horse, or a slave, or a dog, or a golden cup; but they were unhappy presents to both the giver and the receivers of them: for he spent all his life in fear of the Persians, dreading all their motions as children do bugbears. Of whom, some were childless, and died miserably intestate; and others had better never have had children: with such infamy and mutual discord do they live together who descend from them, whilst they dwell among sacred pillars taken from the temples. To whom I think these things are owing, who knowing how to enrich themselves, have taught * Constantius. {88} their children this way to happiness! And at this time their distempers carry some of them to Cilicia, needing the help of Æsculapius. But instead of obtaining relief, they meet with affronts only for the injury done to the place. How can such return without cursing the author of these evils? But let the conduct of this Emperor be such as to deserve praises living and dead; such as we know he* was who succeeded him; who had overturned the Persian empire if treachery had not prevented it. Nevertheless he was great in his death, for he was killed by treachery, as Achilles also was; and is applauded for that, as well as for what he did before his death. This has he from the gods, to whom he restored their rites, and honours, and temples, and altars, and blood: from whom having heard,« that he should humble the pride of Persia, and then die,' he purchased the glory of his life, taking many cities, subduing a large tract of land, teaching his pursuers to fly; and was about to receive, as all know, an embassy which would have brought the submission of the enemy. Wherefore he was pleased with his wound, and looking upon it rejoiced, and without any tears rebuked those who wept, for not thinking that a wound was better to him than any old age. So that the embassies sent after his death were all * Julian. {80} his right. And the reason why the Achemenidæ* for the future made use of entreaties instead of arms, was that the fear of him still possessed their minds. Such an one was he who restored to us the temples of the gods, who did things too good to be forgotten, himself above all oblivion. "But I thought that he** who reigned lately would pull down and burn the temples of those who were of the opposite sentiment, as he knew how to despise the gods. But he was better than expectation, sparing the temples of the enemies, and not disdaining to run some hazards for preserving those of his own dominions, which had long since been erected with much labour and at vast expense. For if cities are to be preserved every where, and some cities outshine others by means of their temples, and these are their chief ornaments, next to the Emperor's palaces,--how is it that no care must be taken of these, nor any endeavours used to preserve them in the body of the cities? "But it is said: 'There will be other edifices, though there should be no temples.' But I think tribute to be of importance to the treasury. Let * Another name for the Persians. ** Valens. {90} these stand then, and be taxed. Do we think it a cruel thing to cut off a man's hand, and a small matter to pluck out the eyes of cities? And do we not lament the ruins made by earthquakes? and when there are no earthquakes, nor other accidents, shall we ourselves do what they are wont to effect? Are not the temples the possession of the Emperors as well as other things? Is it the part of wise men to sink their own goods? Does not every one suppose him to be distracted, who throws his purse into the sea? Or if the master of the ship was to cut those ropes which are of use to the ship; or if any one should order a mariner to throw away his oar,--would you think it an absurdity? and yet think it proper for a magistrate to deprive a city of such a part of it? What reason is there for destroying that, the use of which may be changed? Would it not be shameful for an army to fight against its own walls? and for a general to excite them against what they have raised with great labour; the finishing of which was a festival for those who then reigned? Let no man think, Emperor, that this is a charge brought against you. For there lies in ruins, in the Persian borders, a temple*, to which there is none like, as may be learned from those who saw it, so magnificent the stone work, and in * Probably the temple at Odessa. {91} compass equal to the city. Therefore in time of war the citizens thought their enemies would gain nothing by taking the town, since they could not take that likewise, as the strength of its fortifications bid defiance to all their attacks. At length, however, it was attacked, and with a fury equal to the greatest enemies, animated by the hopes of the richest plunder. I have heard it disputed,by some, in which state it was the greatest wonder; whether now that it is no more, or when it had suffered nothing of this kind, like the temple of Serapis. But that temple, so magnificent and so large, not to mention the wonderful structure of the roof, and the many brass statues, now hid in darkness out of the light of the sun, is quite perished; a lamentation to them who have seen it, a pleasure to them who never saw it. For the eyes and ears are not alike affected with these things. Or rather to those who have not seen it, it is both sorrow and pleasure: the one because of its fall, the other because their eyes never saw it. Nevertheless, if it be rightly considered, this work is not yours, but the work of a man * who has deceived you; a profane wretch, an enemy of the gods, base, covetous, ungrateful to the earth that received him when born, advanced without merit, and abusing his greatness, when advanced; * Probably Cynegius, the Emperor's lieutenant. {93} a slave to his wife, gratifying her in any thing, and esteeming her all things, in perfect subjection to them* who direct these things, whose only virtue lies in wearing the habit of mourners; but especially to those of them who also weave coarse garments. This workhouse** deluded, imposed upon him, and misled him; [and it is said that many gods have been deceived by gods;] for they gave out, 'that the priests sacrificed, and so near them that the smoke reached their noses:' and after the manner of some simple people, they enlarge and heighten matters, and vaunt themselves as if they thought nothing was above their power. By such fiction, and contrivance, and artful stories, proper to excite displeasure, they persuaded the mildest father [of his people] among the Emperors***. For these were really his virtues, humanity, tenderness, compassion, mildness, equity, who had rather save than destroy. But there were those who gave lister counsel; that if such a thing had been done, the attempt should be punished, and care taken to prevent the like for time to come. Yet he who thought he ought to have a Cadmean victory, carried on his conquest. But after he had taken his own pleasures, he should have provided for his * The monks. **The monastery. *** Probably Valens. {93} people, and not have desired to appear great to those who shun the labours of the country, and converse in the mountains *, as they say, with the Maker of all things. But let your actions appear excellent and praiseworthy to all men. There are at this time many, so far friends as to receive and empty your treasures, and to whom your empire is dearer than their own souls; but when the time comes that good counsel and real services are wanted, they have no concern upon them but to take care of themselves; and if any one comes to them, and inquires what this means, they excuse themselves as free from all fault. They disown what they have done, or pretend 'that they have obeyed the Emperor's order; and if there is any blame, he must see to it.' Such things they say, when it is they who are found guilty, who can give no account of their actions. For what account can be given of such mischiefs? These men before others deny this to be their own work. But when they address you alone, without witnesses, they say, 'they have been in this war serving your family.' They would deliver your house from those who by land and sea endeavour to defend your person; than which there is nothing greater you can receive from them. For these men, under the name of friends and protectors, * He refers to the monks near Antioch, {94} telling stories of those by whom they say they have been injured, improve your credulity into an occasion of doing more mischief. "But I return to them, to demonstrate their injustice by what they have said: Say then, for what reason you destroyed that great temple? Not because the Emperor approved the doing it. They who pull down a temple have done no wrong if the Emperor has ordered it to be done. Therefore they who pulled it down did not do wrong by doing what the Emperor approved of. But he who does that which is not approved by the Emperor, does Wrong; does he not? You, then, are the men who have nothing of this to say for what you have done. Tell me why this temple of Fortune is safe? and the temple of Jupiter, and of Minerva, and of Bacchus? Is it because you would have them remain? No, but because no one has given you power over them; which, nevertheless, you have assumed against those which you have destroyed. How, then, are you not liable to punishment? or how can you pretend that what you have done is right, when the sufferers have done no wrong? Of which charge there would have been some appearance, if you, O Emperor, had published an edict to their purpose: 'Let no man within my empire believe in the gods, nor worship them, nor ask any {95} good thing of them, neither for himself, nor for his children, unless it be done in silence and privately: but let all present themselves at the places where I worship, and join in the rites there performed. And let them offer the same prayers which they do, and bow the head at the hand of him who directs the multitude. Whoever transgresses this law, shall be put to death.' It was easy for you to publish such a law as this; but you have not done it; nor have you in this matter laid a yoke upon the souls of men. But though you think one way better than the other, yet you do not judge that other to be an impiety, for which a man may be justly punished. Nor have you excluded those of that sentiment from honours, but have conferred upon them the highest offices, and have given them access to your table, to eat and drink with you. This you have done formerly, and at this time; beside others, you have associated to yourself (thinking it advantageous to your government) a man, who swears by the gods, both before others, and before yourself: and you are not offended at it; nor do you think yourself injured by those oaths: nor do you account him a wicked man who placeth his best hopes in the gods. When, therefore, you do not reject us, as neither did he who subdued the Persians by arms reject those of his subjects who differed from him in this matter, what pretence have these to reject us? {96} How can these men reject their fellow-subjects, differing from them in this matter? By what right do they make these incursions? How do they seize other men's goods with the indignation of the countries? How do they destroy some things, and carry off others? adding to the injury of their actions the insolence of glorying in them. We, O Emperor, if you approve and permit these things, will bear them; not without grief indeed; but yet we will show that we have learned to obey. But if you give them no power, and yet they come and invade our small remaining substance, or our walls: Know, that the owners of the countries will defend themselves." EXTRACTS FROM BINGHAM'S ANTIQUITIES OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH*, OF THE NAMES OF REPROACH WHICH THE JEWS, INFIDELS, AND HERETICS CAST UPON THE CHRISTIANS. "Besides the names already spoken of, there were some other reproachful names cast upon them by their adversaries, which it will not be improper here to mention. The first of these was Nazarens, a * The edition from which these Extracts are taken it in one vol. 8vo, London, 1708, and begins at p. 13. {97} name of reproach given them first by the Jews, by whom they are styled the sect of the Nazarens, Acts xxiv. 5. There was indeed a particular heresy, who called themselves [--------]: and Epiphanius* thinks the Jews had a more especial spite at them, because they were a sort of Jewish apostates, who kept circumcision and the Mosaical rites together with the Christian religion: and therefore, he says, they were used to curse and anathematize them three times a day, morning, noon, and evening, when they met in their synagogues to pray, in this direful form of execration,' [--------], 'Send thy curse, O God, upon the Nazarens.' But St. Jerome** says this was levelled at Christians in general, whom they thus anathematized under the name of Nazarens. And this seems most probable, because both as St. Jerome*** and Epiphanius himself**** observe, the Jews termed all Christians by way of reproach, Nazarens. And the Gentiles took it from the Jews, as appears from that of * Epiphan. Haer. 29. n. 9. ** Hieron. Com. in Esa. xlix. t 5. p. 178. Ter per tingulos dies sub nomine Nazaienorum maledicunt in synagogis suis. *** Id. de loc. Hebr. t. 3. p. 289. Nos apnd veterei» quasi opprobrio Nazaraei dicebamur, quos nunc Christianos vocant. **** Epiphan. ibid. {98} Datianus the praetor in Prudentius*, where speaking to the Christians he gives them the name of Nazarens. Some** think the Christians at first were very free to own this name, and esteemed it no reproach, till such time as the heresy of the Nazarens broke out, and then in detestation of that heresy they forsook that name, and called themselves Christians. Acts xi. 26. But whether this be said according to the exact rules of chronology, I leave those that are better skilled to determine. Another name of reproach was that of Galilæans, which was Julian's ordinary style, whenever he spake of Christ or Christians. Thus in his Dialogue with old Maris a blind Christian bishop, mentioned by Sozomen***, he told him by way of scoff, "Thy Galilæan God will not cure thee." And again, in his epistle**** to Arsacius high-priest of Galatia, "The Galilæans maintain their own poor and ours also." The like may be observed in Socrates(v), Theodoret (vi), * Prudent. ---------]. Carm. 5. de S. Vincent. Vos Nazareni assistite, Rudemque ritum spernite. Id. Hymno 9. de Rom. Mart. ** Junius, Parallel, lib. 1. c. 8. Godwyn, Jew. Rites, lib. 1. c. 8. *** Sozom. lib. 5. c. 4. **** A p. Sozom. lib. 5. c. 16. (v) Socrat. lib. 3. c. 12. (vi) Theodor. lib. 3. c 7. & 31. {90} Chrysostom*, and Gregory Nazianzen**, who adds, that he not only called them Galilæans himself, but made a law that no one should call them by any other name; thinking thereby to abolish the name of Christians. They also called them Atheists, and their religion the Atheism or Impiety, because they derided the worship of the heathen gods. Dio*** says, Acilius Glabrio was put to death for atheism, meaning the Christian religion. And the Christian apologists, Athenagoras**** Justin Martyr(v), Arnobius(vi), and others, reckon this among the crimes which the heathens usually lay to their charge. Eusebius says(vii) the name was become so common, that when the persecuting magistrates would oblige a Christian to renounce his religion, they bade him abjure it in this form, by saying among other things, [--------] 'Confusion to the atheists, Away with the impious,' meaning the Christians. To this they added the name of Greeks and Impostors. Which is noted by St. Jerome(viii) who says * Chrys. Horn. 63. torn. 5. ** Naz. i. Invectiv. *** Dio in Domitian. **** Athen. Legat. pro Christ. (v) Just. Apol. i. p. 47. (vi) Arnob. lib. i. (vii) Euseb. lib. iv. c. 15. (viii) Hieron. Ep. 10. ad Furiara. Ubicunque viderint {100} wheresoever they saw a Christian, they would presently cry out, '[--------], 'Behold a Grecian impostor.' This was the character which the Jews gave our Saviour, [--------]' that deceiver*, Matt, xxvii. 63. And Justin Martyr** says, they endeavoured to propagate it to posterity, sending their apostles or emissaries from Jerusalem to all the synagogues in the world, to bid them beware of a certain impious, lawless sect, lately risen up under one Jesus, a Galilæan impostor. Hence Lucian*** took occasion in his blasphemous raillery to style him The crucified sophister. And Celsus**** commonly gives him and his followers the name of [--------] 'deceivers.' So Asclepiades the judge in Prudentius**** compliments them with the appellation of sophisters; and Ulpian(v) proscribes them in a law by the name of impostors. The reason why they added the name of Greeks * Christianum, statim illud de Trivio, [--------] vocant Impostorem. ** Justin. Dial. c. Tryph. p. 335. *** Lucian. Peregrin. **** Cels. ap. Orig. lib. i. et lib. 6. (v) Prudent. [--------]. Carm. 9. de Romano Marty. Quis hos Sophistas error invexit novus, &c. (vi) Digest, lib. 50. tit. 13. c 1. Si incantavit, si in- precatus est, si (ut vulgari verbo Impostoruxn utar) si exorcisavit {101} to that of impostors, was (as learned men* conjecture) because many of the Christian philosophers took upon them the Grecian or philosophic habit, which was the [--------] or pallium: whence the Greeks were called Pallitati, as the Romans were called Togati, or Gens togata, from their proper habit, which was the toga. Now it being some offence to the Romans to see the Christians quit the Roman gown, to wear the Grecian cloak; they thence took occasion, to mock and deride them with the scurrilous names of Greeks, and Grecian impostors. Tertullian s book _de Pallio_ was written to show the spiteful malice of this foolish objection. But the heathens went one step further in their malice; and because our Saviour and his followers did many miracles, which they imputed to evil arts and the power of magic, they therefore generally declaimed against them as magicians, and under that character exposed them to the fury of the vulgar. Celsus** and others pretended that our Saviour studied magic in Egypt: and St. Austin*** says, it was generally believed among the heathens, that he * Kortholt de Morib. Christian, c. 3. p. 23. Baron an. 56. n. 11. ** Origen. cont. Cels. lib. 2. Arrobius, lib. 1. p. 36. *** Aug. de Consensu Evang. lib. 1. c. 9. {102} wrote some books about magic too, which he delivered to Peter and Paul for the use of his disciples. Hence it was that Suetonius* speaking in the language of his party, calls the Christians _Genus hominum superstionis maleficae_, 'the men of the magical superstition.' As Asclepiades the judge in Prudentius** styles St. Romanus the martyr, Arch-magician. And St. Ambrose observes in the Passion of St. Agnes*** how the people cried out against her, 'Away with the sorceress! Away with the enchanter! 'Nothing being more common than to term all Christians, especially such as wrought miracles, by the odious name of sorcerers and magicians.' The New Superstition was another name of reproach for the Christian religion. Suetonius gives it that title****, and Pliny and Tacitus add to it(v) the opprobrious terms of wicked and unreasonable * Sueton. Neron. c. 16. ** Prudent. Hymn. 9. de S. Romano. Quousque tandem su m m us hic nobis Magus illudit. *** Ambr. Serm. 90. in S. Agnen. Tolle Magam! Tolle Maleticam! **** See Kortholt de Morib. Christ, c. 4. (v) Sueton. Nero. c. 16. (vi) Plin. lib. 10. ep. 97. Nihil aliud inveni, quam superstitionem pravam et immodicara. Tacit. Annal. 15. c. 44. Exitiabilis superstitio. {103} superstition. By which name also Nero triumphed over it in his trophies which he set up at Rome, when he had harassed the Christians with a most severe persecution. He gloried that he had purged the country of robbers, and those that obtruded and inculcated the new superstition* upon mankind. By this, there can be no doubt he meant the Christians, whose religion is called the superstition in other inscriptions of the like nature. See that of Diocletian cited in Baronius, Ann. 304. from Occo. "Superstitione Christianorum ubique deleta," &c. Not much unlike this was that other name which Porphyry** and some others give it, when they call it the barbarous, new, and strange religion. In the acts of the famous martyrs of Lyons, who suffered under Antoninus Pius, the heathens scornfully insult it with this character. For having burnt the martyrs to ashes, and scattered their remains into the river Rhone, they said, they did it 'to cut off their hopes of a resurrection, upon the * Inscript. Antiq. ad Calcem Sueton. Oxon. NERONI. CLAUD. CAIS. AUG. PONT. MAX. OB. PROVING. LATRONIB. ET. HIS. QUI. NOVAM. GENERI. HUM. SUPERSTITION. INCULCAB. PURGAT. ** Ap. Euseb. Hist Eccl, lib* 6, c 19, [--------] {104} strength of which they sought to obtrude* the new and strange religion upon mankind. But now let us see whether they will rise again, and whether their God can help and deliver them out of our hands.' Celsus gives them the name of Sibyllists**, because the Christians in their disputes with the heathens sometimes made use of the authority of Sibylla their own prophetess against them; whose writing they urged with so much advantage to the Christian cause, and prejudice to the heathen, that Justin Martyr*** says, the Roman governors made it death for any one to read them, or Hystaspes, or the writings of the prophets. They also reproached them with the appellation of [--------], 'self-murderers,' because they readily offered themselves up to martyrdom, and cheerfully underwent any violent death, which the heathens could inflict upon them. With what eagerness they courted death, we learn not only from the Christian writers**** themselves, but from the testimonies * Act. Mart. Lugd. ap. Euseb. lib. 5. c. 1. [--------] ** Origen. c. Cels. lib. 5. p. 272. *** Just Apol. 2. p. 82. **** See these collected in Pearson, Vind. Ignat. Par. 2. c. 9. p. 384. {105} of the heathens* concerning them. Lucian** says they not only despised death, but many of them voluntarily offered themselves to it, out of a persuasion that they should be made immortal and live forever. This he reckons folly, and therefore gives them the name of [--------], 'The miserable wretches, that threw away their lives,' In which sense Porphyry*** also styles, the Christian religion, [--------] the barbarous boldness.' As Arrjus Antoninus**** terms the professors of it, [--------], The stupid wretches, that had such a mind to die; and the heathen in Minucius(v), homines deploratae ac desperate factionis, 'the men of the forlorn and desperate faction.' All which agrees with the name Biothanati, or Biaeothanati, as Baronius(vi) understands it* Though it may signify not only self-murderers, but (as a learned critic(xii) notes) men that expect to live after death. In which sense the heathens probably might use it likewise to ridicule the Christian doctrine of the resurrection; on which, they * Arrius Antonin. ap. Tertul. ad Scap. c. 4. Tiberias, in Joh. Malela Chronic. ** Lucian. de Mort Peregrin. *** Porphyr. ap. Euseb. Hist Eccl. 1. 6. c 19. **** Tertul. ibid. (v) Minuc. Octav. p. 25. (vi) Baron, an. 138. n. 5. (vii) Suicer. Thesaur. Ecclesiast 1.1. p. 690. {106} knew, all their fearless and undaunted courage was founded. For so the same heathen in Minucius endeavours to expose at once both their resolution and their belief: "O strange folly, and incredible madness!" says he; "they despise all present torments, and yet fear those that are future and uncertain: they are afraid of dying after death, but in the mean time do not fear to die. So vainly do they flatter themselves, and allay their fears, with the hopes of some reviving comforts after death." For one of these reasons then they gave them the name of _Biothanati_, which word expressly occurs in some of the acts of the ancient martyrs. Baronius observes* out of Bede's Martyrology, that when the seven sons of Symphorosa were martyred under Hadrian, their bodies were all cast into one pit together, which the temple-priests named from them, _Ad Septem Biothanatos_, 'The grave of the seven Biothanati.' For the same reasons they gave them the names of _Parabolarii and Desperati_, 'The bold and desperate men.' The Parabolarii, or Parabolani among the Romans were those bold adventurous men, who hired out themselves to fight with wild beasts upon the stage or amphitheatre, whence they had also the name of _Bestiarii, and Confectores_. Now because the * Baron, an. 138. n. 5. {107} Christians were put to fight for their lives in the same manner, and they rather chose to do it than deny their religion, they therefore got the name of _Paraboli and Parabolani_: which, though it was intended as a name of reproach and mockery, yet the Christians were not unwilling to take to themselves, being one of the truest characters that the heathens ever gave them. And therefore they sometimes gave themselves this name by way of allusion to the Roman Paraboli. As in the Passion of Abdo and Senne* in the time of Valerian, the martyrs who were exposed to be devoured by wild beasts in the amphitheatre, are said to enter, '_ut audacissimi Parabolani_,' as most resolute champions, that despised their own lives for their religion's sake. But the other name of _Desperati_ they rejected as a calumny, retorting it back upon their adversaries, who more justly deserved it. "Those," says Lactantius***, "who set a value upon their faith, and will not deny their God, they first torment and butcher with all their might, and then call them desperados, because they will not spare their bodies: as if any thing could be more desperate, than to torture and tear in pieces those whom you cannot but know to be innocent." * Acta Abdon. et Sennes ap. Suicer. ** Lact. Instil, lib. 5. c. 9. Desperates vocant, quia corpori suo minime parcunt, &c. {108} Tertullian mentions another name, which was likewise occasioned by their sufferings. The martyrs which were burnt alive, were usually tied to a board or stake of about six foot long, which the Romans called _semaxis_; and then they were surrounded or covered with faggots of small wood, which they called _sarmenia_. From this their punishment, the heathens, who turned every thing into mockery, gave all Christians the despiteful name of _Sarmentitii_ and _Semaxii_*. The heathen in Minucius*** takes occasion also to reproach them under the name of the sculking generation, or the men that loved to prate in corners and the dark. The ground of which scurrilous reflection was only this, that they were forced to hold their religious assemblies in the night to avoid the fury of the persecutions. Which Celsus**** himself owns, though otherwise prone enough to load them with hard names and odious reflections. The same heathen in Minucius gives them one * Tertul. Apol. t, 50. Licet nunc Sarmentitios et Semaxios appelletis, quia ad stipitem dimidii axis re-vincti, sarmentorum ambitu exurimur. ** Minuc. Octav. p. 25. Latebrosa et lucifugax natio, in publicum muta, in angulis garrula. *** Origen. c. Cel. lib. 1. p. 5. {109} scurrilous name more, which it is not very easy to guess the meaning of. He calls them _Plautinians_*,--_homines Plautinæ prosapiæ_. Rigaltius** takes it for a ridicule upon the poverty and simplicity of the Christians, whom the heathens commonly represented as a company of poor ignorant mechanics, bakers, tailors, and the like; men of the same quality with Plautus, who, as St. Jerome*** observes, was so poor, that at a time of famine he was forced to hire out himself to a baker to grind at his mill, during which time he wrote three of his Plays in the intervals of his labour. Such sort of men Coecilius says the Christians were; and therefore he styles Octavius in the dialogue, _homo Plautinæ prosapiæ et pistorum præcipuus_, 'a Plautinian, a chief man among the illiterate bakers,' but no philosopher. The same reflection is often made by Celsus. "You shall see," says he****, "weavers, tailors,fullers, and the most illiterate and rustic fellows, who dare not speak a word before wise men, when they can get a company of children and silly women together, set up to teach strange paradoxes amongst * Minuc. p. 37. Quid ad hæc audet Octavius homo Plautinæ Prosapiæ, ut Pistorum præcipuus ita postremus Philosophorum? ** Rigalt. in loc. *** Hieron. Chronic, an. 1. Olymp. 145. **** Origen. c Cels. lib. 3. p. 144. {110} them." "This is one of their rules," says he again*,--"Let no man that is learned, wise, or prudent come among us; but if any be unlearned, or a child, or an ideot, let him freely come. So they openly declare, that none but fools and sots, and such as want sense, slaves, women, and children, are fit disciples for the God they worship***." Nor was it only the heathens that thus reviled them, but commonly every perverse sect among the Christians had some reproachful name to cast upon them. The Novatian party called them _Cornelieans_*** because they communicated with Cornelius bishop of Rome, rather than with Novatianus his antagonist. They also termed them _Apostates, Capitolins, Synedrians_, because**** they charitably decreed in their synods to receive apostates, and such as went to the Capitol to sacrifice, into their communion again upon their sincere repentance. The Nestorians(v) termed the orthodox _Cyrillians_; and the Arians(vi) called them _Eustathians_ and * Origen. c. Cels. lib. 3. p. 137. f See the preceding translation of Celsus, p. 19. f Eulog. ap. Phot. Cod. 280. § Facian. Ep. 2. ad Sympronian. || Ep. Legat. Schismat ad suos in Epheso in Act. Con. Ephes. Con. t S. p. 746. f Sozora, lib, 6. c. 21. {111} _Paulinions_, from Eustathius and Paulin us bishops of Antioch. As also _Homousians_, because they kept to the doctrine of the [--------], which declared the Son of God to be of the same substance with the Father. The author of the _Opus Imperfection_ on St. Matthew, under the name of Chrysostom*, styles them expressly, _Hæresis Homoousianorum_,' the heresy of the Homoousians.' And so Serapion in his conflict with Arnobius** calls them _Homousianates_,which the printed copy reads corruptly _Homuncionates_, which was a name for the Nestorians. The Cataphrygians or Montanists commonly called the orthodox [--------], 'carnal'; because they rejected the prophecies and pretexted inspirations of Montanus, and would not receive his rigid laws about fasting, nor abstain from second marriages, and observe four Lents in a year, &c. This was Tertullian's ordinary compliment to the Christians in all his books** written after he was fallen into the errors of Montanus. He calls his own party the _spiritual_, and the orthodox the _carnal_: and * Opus Imperf. Horn. 48. ** Conflict. Arnob. et Serap. ad cakem Irenæi, p. 519. *** Tertul. adv. Prax. c. 1. Nos quidem agnitio Paracleti disjunxit à Psychicis. Id. de Monogam. c. 1. Haeretici nuptias auferunt, Psychici ingerunt. See also c. 11. and 16. {112} some of his books* are expressly entitled, _Adversus Psychicos_. Clemens Alexandrinus** observes, the same reproach was also used by other heretics beside the Montanists. And it appears from Irenæus, that this was an ancient calumny of the Valentînîans, who styled themselves the _spiritual_ and the _perfect_, and the orthodox the _secular and carnal_***, who had need of abstinence and good works, which were not necessary for them that were perfect. The Millenaries styled them _Allegorists_, because they expounded the prophecy of the saints reigning a thousand years with Christ, (Rev. xx. 4.) to a mystical and allegorical sense. Whence Euseubius**** observes of Nepos the Egyptian bishop, who wrote for the Millenium, that he entitled his book, [--------], 'A confutation of the Allegorists.' Aetius the Arian gives them the abusive name of [--------]; by which he seems to intimate, that their religion was but temporary, and would * De Jejuniis adv. Psychicos. De Pudicitia, &c. ** Clem. Alex. Strom, lib. 4. p. 511. *** Iren. lib. 1. c 1. p. 29. Nobis quidem, quos Psychicos vocant, et de sæculo esse dicunt, necessarian) con- tinentiam, &c. **** Euseb. lib. 7. c. 24. {113} , shortly have an end; whereas the character was much more applicable to the Arians themselves, whose faith was so lately sprung up in the world; as the author of the dialogues _de Trinitate_, under the name of Athanasius, who confutes Aetius *, justly retorts upon him. The Manichees, as they gave themselves the most glorious names of _Electi, Macarii, Catharistæ_, mentioned by St. Austin**; so they reproached the Catholics with the most contemptible name of _Simplices_, 'ideots,' which is the term that Manichæus himself used in his dispute*** with Archelaus, the Mesopotamian bishop, styling the Christian teachers, _Simpliciorum magistri_, 'guides of the simple;' because they could not relish his execrable doctrine concerning two principles of good and evil. The Apollinarians were no less injurious to the Catholics, in fixing on them the odious name of _Anthropolatræ_, 'man-worshippers'; because they maintained that Christ was a perfect man, and had a reasonable soul and body, of the same nature with ours; which Apollinarius denied. Gregory * Athan. Dial. 2. de Trinit. t. 2. p. 193. ** Aug. de Hær. c. 46. *** Archel. Disp. adv. Manichaeum adcalcem Sozomen. Ed. Vales, p. 197. {114} Nazianzen* takes notice of this abuse, and sharply replies to it; telling the Apollinarians, that they themselves much better deserved the name of _Sarcolatræ_, 'flesh-worshippers': for if Christ had no human soul, they must be concluded to worship his flesh only. The Origenians, who denied the truth of the resurrection, and asserted that men should have only aerial and spiritual bodies in the next world, made jests upon the Catholics, because they maintained the contrary, that our bodies should be the same individual bodies, and of the same nature that they are now, with flesh and bones, and all the members in the same form and structure, only altered in quality, not in substance. For this they gave them the opprobrious names of _Simplices_ and _Philosarcæ**, 'ideots' and 'lovers of the flesh'; _Carnei, Animales, Jumenta_, 'carnal, sensual, animals'; _Lutei, 'earthy', Pilosiotæ***, which Erasmus's edition reads * Naz. Ep. 1. ad Cledon. ** Hieron. Ep. 61. ad Pammach. t. 2. p. 171. Nos Simplices et Philosarcas dicere, quod eadem ossa, et sanguis, et caro, id est, vultus et membra, totiusque compago corporis resurgat in novissima die. *** Id. Ep. 65, ad Pam. et Ocean, de Error. Orig. p. 192. Pelusiotas (leg. Pilosiotas) nos appellant, et Luteos, Animalesque, et Cameos, quod non recipiamus ea quae Spiritus sunt. {115} corruptly _Pelusiotæ_, instead of _Pilonotæ_; which seems to be a name formed from _pili_, (hair); because the Catholics asserted, that the body would rise perfect in all its parts, even with the hair itself to beautify and adorn it. But of all others the Luciferians gave the church the rudest language; styling her the brothel-house, and synagogue of Antichrist and Satan; because she allowed those bishops to retain their honour and places, who were cajoled by the Arians to subscribe the fraudulent confession of the Council of Ariminum. The Luciferian in St. Jerome runs out in this manner against the church; and St. Jerome says, he spake but the sense of the whole party, for this was the ordinary style and language of all the rest.--Hieron. Dial. adv. Lucifer, t. ii. p. 135." Thus far Bingham: to whose extracts may appropriately be added, what the Emperor Julian says reproachfully of the Christians, in the fragments which Cyril has preserved of his Treatise against them. "You do not take notice (says he) whether any mention is made by the Jews of holiness; but you emulate their rage and their bitterness, overturning temples and altars, and cutting the throats, not only of those who remain firm in paternal {116} institutes, but also of those heretics who are equally erroneous with yourselves, and who do not lament a dead body [i. e. the body of Christ] in the same manner as you do*. For neither Jesus nor Paul exhorted you to act in this manner. But the reason is, that neither did they expect that you would ever arrive at the power which you have obtained. For they were satisfied if they could deceive maidservants and slaves, and through these married women, and such men as Cornelius and Sergius; among whom if you can mention one that was at that time an illustrious character, (and these things were transacted under the reign of Tiberius or Claudius) believe that I am a liar in all things**." * Julian here alludes to the contests between the Arians and Trinitarians. ** Vid. Cyril, apud Spanh. THE END. 
37699	----	HELL WARM WORDS ON THE CHEERFUL AND COMFORTING DOCTRINE OF ETERNAL DAMNATION COL. INGERSOLL'S AMERICAN SECULAR LECTURES By Col. Robert G. Ingersoll Minister Of The Gospel Of Free Thought In America Rev. HENRY WARD BEECHER says:--"I admire Ingersoll because he is not afraid to speak what he honestly thinks, and I am only sorry he does not think as I do. I never heard so much brilliancy and pith put into a two hours' Speech as I did on that night. I wish my whole Congregation had been there to hear it. I regard him as one of the greatest Men of the Age."--New York Herald. HELL. THE idea of a hell was born of revenge and brutality on the one side, and cowardice on the other. In my judgment the American people are too brave, too charitable, too generous, too magnanimous, to believe in the infamous dogma of an eternal hell. I have no respect for any human being who believes in it. I have no respect for any man who preaches it. I have no respect for the man who will pollute the imagination of childhood with that infamous lie. I have no respect for the man who will add to the sorrows of this world with the frightful dogma. I have no respect for any man who endeavours to put that infinite cloud, that infinite shadow, over the heart of humanity. For a good many years the learned intellects of Christendom have been examining into the religions of other countries in the world, the religions of the thousands that have passed away. They examined into the religions of Egypt, the religion of Greece, the religion of Rome and of the Scandinavian countries. In the presence of the ruins of those religions the learned men of Christendom insisted that those religions were baseless, that they were fraudulent. But they have all passed away. While this was being done the Christianity of our day applauded, and when the learned men got through with the religions of other countries they turned their attention to our religion. By the same mode of reasoning, by the same methods, by the same arguments that they used with the old religions, they were overturning the religion of our day. Why? Every religion in this world is the work of man. Every book has been written by man. Men existed before the books. If books had existed before man, I might admit there was such a thing as a sacred volume. Man never had an idea--man will never have an idea, except those supplied to him by his surroundings. Every idea in the world that man has came to him by nature. You can imagine an animal with the hoof of a bison, with the pouch of the kangaroo, with the wings of an eagle, with the beak of a bird, and with the tail of the lion; and yet every point of this monster you borrowed from nature. Every thing you can think of, every thing you can dream of, is borrowed from your surroundings. And there is nothing on this earth coming from any other sphere whatever. Man has produced every religion in the world. And why? Because each religion bodes forth the knowledge and the belief of the people at the time it was made, and in no book is there any knowledge found, except that of the people who wrote it. In no book is there found any knowledge, except that of the time in which it was written. Barbarians have produced, and always will produce barbarian religions; barbarians have produced and always will produce ideas in harmony with their surroundings, and all the religions of the past were produced by barbarians. We are making religions to-day. That is to say, we are changing them, and the religion of to-day is not the religion of one year ago. What changed it? Science has done it; education and the growing heart of man has done it. And just to the extent that we become civilized ourselves, will we improve the religion of our fathers. If the religion of one hundred years ago, compared with the religion of to-day is so low, what will it be in one thousand years? If we continue making the inroads upon orthodoxy which we have been making during the last twenty-five years, what will it be fifty years from to-night? It will have to be remonetized by that time, or else it will not be legal tender. In my judgment, every religion that stands by appealing to miracles is dishonoured. Every religion in the world has denounced every other religion as a fraud. That proves to me that they all tell the truth--about others. Why? suppose Mr. Smith should tell Mr. Brown that he--Smith--saw a corpse get out of the grave, and that when he first saw it, it was covered with the worms of death, and that in his presence it was re-clothed in healthy, beautiful flesh. And then suppose Mr. Brown should tell Mr. Smith, "I saw the same thing myself. I was in a graveyard once, and I saw a dead man rise." Suppose then that Smith should say to Brown, "You're a liar," and Brown should reply to Smith, "And you're a liar," what would you think? It would simply be because Smith, never having seen it himself, didn't believe Brown; and Brown, never having seen it, didn't believe Smith had. Now, if Smith had really seen it, and Brown told him he had seen it too, then Smith would regard it as a corroboration of his story, and he would regard Brown as one of his principal witnesses. But, on the contrary, he says, "You never saw it." So when a man says, "I was upon Mount Sinai, and there I met God, and he told me, 'Stand aside and let me drown these people;'" and another man says to him, "I was up upon a mountain, and there I met the Supreme Brahma," and Moses says, "That's not true," and contends that the other man never did see Brahma, and he contends that Moses never did see God, that is in my judgment proof that they both speak truly. Every religion, then, has charged every other religion with having been an unmitigated fraud; and yet, if any man had ever seen the miracle himself, his mind would be prepared to believe that another man had seen the same thing. Whenever a man appeals to a miracle he tells what is not true. Truth relies upon reason, and the undeviating course of all the laws of nature. Now, we have a religion--that is, some people have. I do not pretend to have religion myself. I believe in living for this world--that's my doctrine--to make everybody happy that you can. Let the future take care of itself, and if I ever touch the shores of another world, I will be just as ready and anxious to get into some remunerative employment as anybody else. Now, we have got in this country a religion which men have preached for about eighteen hundred years, and just in proportion as their belief in that religion has grown great, men have grown mean and wicked; just in proportion as they have ceased to believe it, men have become just and charitable. And if they believed it to-night as they once believed it, I wouldn't be allowed to speak in the city of New York. It is from the coldness and infidelity of the churches that I get my right to preach; and I say it to their credit. Now we have a religion. What is it? They say in the first place that all this vast universe was created by a Deity. I don't know whether it was or not. They say, too, that had it not been for the first sin of Adam there would never have been any devil in this world, and if there had been no devil there would have been no sin, and if there had been no sin there never would have been any death. For my part I am glad there was death in this world, because that gave me a chance. Somebody had to die to give me room, and when my turn comes I'll be willing to let somebody else take my place. But whether there is another life or not, if there is any being who gave me this, I shall thank him from the bottom of my heart, because, upon the whole, my life has been a joy. Now they say, because of this first sin all man was consigned to eternal hell. And this because Adam was our representative. Well, I always had an idea that my representative ought to live somewhere about the same time I do. I always had an idea that I should have some voice in choosing my representative. And if I had a voice I never should have voted for the old gentleman called Adam. Now in order to regain man from the frightful hell of eternity, Christ himself came to this world and took upon himself flesh, and in order that we might know the road to eternal salvation he gave us a book, and that book is called the Bible, and wherever that Bible has been read men have immediately commenced cutting each others' throats. Wherever that Bible has been circulated, they have invented inquisitions and instruments of torture, and have commenced hating each other with all their hearts. But I am told now, we are all told, that this Bible is the foundation of civilization; I say that this Bible is the foundation of hell, and we never shall get rid of the dogma of hell until we get rid of the idea that it is an inspired book. Now, what does the Bible teach? I am not going to talk about what this minister or that minister says it teaches; the question is, "Ought a man to be sent to eternal hell for not believing this Bible to be the work of a merciful Father?" and the only way to find out is to read it; and as very few people do read it now, I will read a few passages. This is the book to be read in the schools, in order to make our children charitable and good; this is the book that we must read in order that our children may have ideas of mercy, charity, and justice. Does the Bible teach mercy? Now be honest. I read: "_I will make mine arrows drunk with blood; and my sword shall devour flesh?_" (Deut. xxxii. 42.) Pretty good start for a merciful God! "_That thy foot may be dipped in the blood of thine enemies, and the tongue of thy dogs in the same?_" (Ps. lxviii. 23.) Again: "_And the Lord thy God will put out those nations before thee by little and little; thou mayest not consume them at once, lest the beasts of the field increase upon thee?_" (Deut vii. 22.) Read the glorious exploits of Joshua, chosen captain of the Lord, and note how, having coveted the fertile land of Goshen, he smote the people, houghed their horses, despoiled their cities, and put all that breathed to the edge of the sword, as the moral God had commanded. Moreover he came against them suddenly, not a solitary trumpet blast from the celestial orchestra was there calling upon the people to yield, or to move out their country, bag and baggage. No; instantaneous fire and butchery. Observe, too, the charming naivete of the statement: "_There was not a city that made peace with the children of Israel, save the Hivites_." Why? Because the Lord "_hardened their hearts, that they should come against Israel in battle that he might destroy them utterly_." Do you wish further examples of a God of mercy? Read in Exodus how the Lord ordered the harrying of cities and the wholesale slaughter of the inhabitants. "_Thou shalt save alive nothing that breatheth; but thou shalt utterly destroy them._" The old men and the maidens, and the sweet dimpled babe smiling upon the lap of its mother. Recollect, these instructions were given to an army of invasion, and the people who were fighting were guilty of the crime of fighting for their homes. The Old Testament is full of curses, vengeance, jealousy, and hatred; of barbarity and brutality. Now, do not for one moment believe that these words were written by the most merciful God. Don't pluck from the heart the sweet flowers of piety and crush them by superstition. Do not believe that God ever ordered the murder of innocent women and helpless babes. Do not let this supposition turn your hearts into stone. When anything is said to have been written by the most merciful God, and the thing is not merciful, then I deny it, and say he never wrote it. I will live by the standard of reason, and if thinking in accordance with reason takes me to perdition, then I will go to hell with my reason rather than to heaven without it. Now, does this Bible teach political freedom, or does it teach political tyranny? Does it teach a man to resist oppression? Does it teach a man to tear from the throne of tyranny the crowned thing and robber called a king? Let us see. "_Let every soul be subject to the higher powers; for there is no power but of God: the powers that be are ordained of God_." (Rom. xiii. 1.) All the kings, and princes, and governors, and thieves, and robbers that happened to be in authority were placed there by the infinite father of all! "_Whosoever therefore resisteth the power, resisteth the ordinance of God._" And when George Washington resisted the power of George the Third, he resisted the power of God. And when our fathers said "resistance to tyrants is obedience to God," they falsified the Bible itself. "_For he is the minister of God to thee for good. But if thou do that which is evil, be afraid; for he beareth not the sword in vain; for he is the minister of God, revenger to execute wrath upon him that doeth evil. Wherefore ye must needs be subject not only for wrath, but also for conscience's sake._" (Rom. xiii. 4. 5.) I deny this wretched doctrine. Wherever the sword of rebellion is drawn to protect the rights of man, I am a rebel. Wherever the sword of rebellion is drawn to give man liberty, to clothe him in all his just rights, I am on the side of that rebellion. I deny that rulers are crowned by the Most High; the rulers are the people, and the presidents and others are but the servants of the people. All authority comes from the people, and not from the aristocracy of the air. Upon these texts of Scripture which I have just read rest the thrones of Europe, and these are the voices that are repeated from age to age by brainless kings and heartless kings. Does the Bible give woman her rights? Is this Bible humane? Does it treat woman as she ought to be treated, or is it barbarian? Let us see. "_Let women learn in silence with all subjection_." (1 Timothy ii. 11.) If a woman would know anything let her ask her husband. Imagine the ignorance of a lady who had only that source of information. "_But I suffer not a woman to teach, nor to usurp authority over the man, but be in silence._" Observe the magnificent reason. "_For Adam was first formed, then Eve, And Adam was not deceived, but the woman being deceived, was in the transgression._" Splendid! "_But I would have you know that the head of every man is Christ; and the head of the woman is the man; and the head of Christ is God_." That is to say, there is as much difference between the woman and the man as there is between Christ and man. There is the liberty of woman. "_For the man is not of the woman, but the woman is of the man. Neither was the man created for the woman._" Well, what was he created for? "_But the woman was created for the man. Wives, submit yourselves unto your husbands, as unto the Lord_." There's liberty! "_For the husband is the head of the wife, even as Christ is the head of the church; and he is the saviour of the body. Therefore, as the church is subject unto Christ so let the wives to be their own husbands in every thing_." Even the Saviour didn't put man and woman upon any equality. The man could divorce the wife, but the wife could not divorce the husband, and according to the Old Testament, the mother had to ask forgiveness for being the mother of babes. Splendid! Here is something from the Old Testament: "_When thou goest forth to war against thine enemies, and the Lord thy God hath delivered them into thine hands, and thou hast taken them captive. And seest among the captives a beautiful woman, and hast a desire unto her, that thou wouldst have her to thy wife. Then thou shalt bring her home to thine house; and she shall shave her head, and pare her nails_," (Deut. xxi. 10, 11, 12.) That is in self-defence, I suppose! This sacred book, this foundation of human liberty, of morality, does it teach concubinage and polygamy? Read the thirty-first chapter of Numbers, read the twenty-first chapter of Deuteronomy, read the blessed lives of Abraham, of David, or of Solomon, and then tell me that the sacred scripture does not teach polygamy and concubinage? All the language of the world is not sufficient to express the infamy of polygamy; it makes man a beast and woman a stone. It destroys the fireside and makes virtue an outcast. And yet it is the doctrine of the Bible. The doctrine defended by Luther and Melancthon! It takes from our language those sweetest words--father, husband, wife, and mother, and takes us back to barbarism and fills our hearts with the crawling, slimy serpents. Does the Bible teach the existence of devils? Of course it does. Yes, it teaches not only the existence of a good Being, but a bad being. This good Being had to have a home; that home was heaven. This bad being had to have a home; and that home was hell. This hell is supposed to be nearer to earth than I would care to have it, and to be peopled with spirits, hobgoblins, and all the fiery shapes with which the imagination of ignorance and fear could people that horrible place; and the Bible teaches the existence of hell and this big devil and all these little devils. The Bible teaches the doctrine of witchcraft, and makes us believe that there are sorcerers and witches, and that the dead could be raised by the power of sorcery. Read the account of the spiritual seance at which Saul and the Witch of Endor assisted, and which resulted in the calling up of Samuel. Does any one believe that now? In another place it is declared that witchcraft is an abomination unto the Lord. He wanted no rivals in this business. Now what does the New Testament teach? Turn to the story of Jesus being led into the wilderness for the devil to experiment upon him. He was starved forty days and forty nights, and then asked to work a miracle! After that the devil placed him on the pinnacle of the temple, and asked him to cast himself down to prove that he was the Son of God. Is it possible that any one can believe that the devil absolutely took God Almighty, and put him on the pinnacle of the temple, and endeavoured to persuade him to jump down? "_Again the devil taketh him into an exceeding high mountain, and showeth him all the kingdoms of the world, and the glory of them; and saith unto him, All these things will I give thee, if thou wilt fall down and worship me. Then saith Jesus unto him, Get thee hence, Satan, for it is written, Thou shalt worship the Lord thy God, and him only shalt thou serve_." (Matt. iv. 8-11.) Now, the devil must have known at that time that he was God, and God at that time must have known that the other was the devil. How could the latter be conceived to have the impudence to promise God a world in which he did not have a tax-title to an inch of land. Then there is that pig story. When the "boss" devil had left Jesus and angels had ministered unto him, and he had taken a short sea voyage, there came out to meet him a man possessed of a number of minor devils, and a man whom no one could tame, nor bind, no not with chains, and who dwelt among the tombs. A nice quiet citizen truly! And after some parley the devils beseech Jesus, saying:--"_Send us into the swine that we may enter into them. And forthwith Jesus gave them leave. And the unclean spirits went out, and entered into the swine; and the herd ran violently down a steep place into the sea_ (there were about two thousand) _and were choked in the sea._" No doubt a good riddance; but what the owner of the swine thought of the transaction, or whether he was indemnified for the loss of his porkers deponent cannot say. Are we reasonable men in the nineteenth century in the United States of America and believe this? I deny it. These fables of devils have covered the world with blood; they have filled the world with fear, and I am going to do what I can to free the world of these insatiate monsters. Small and great they have filled the world with monsters, they have made the world a synonym of liar and ferocity. And it is this book that ought to be read in all the schools--this book that teaches man to enslave his brother. If it is larceny to steal the result of labour, how much more is it larceny to steal the labourer himself. "_Moreover, of the children of the strangers that do so sojourn among you, of them shall ye buy, and of their families that are with you, which they begat in your land; and they shall be your possession. And ye shall take them as an inheritance for your children after you, to inherit them for a possession; they shall be your bondmen for ever; but over your brethren the children of Israel, ye shall not rule one over another with rigour_." (Lev. xv. 45, 46.) Why? Because they are not as good as you will buy of the heathen roundabout. These are edifying texts. Consult also Exod. xxi. 1, where you will find a complete slave code. No detail is wanting. Under certain conditions the master is to bring his servant to the judges, then he is to lug him to the doorpost and bore his ear through with an awl--; "_And he shall serve him for ever_." This is the doctrine which has ever lent itself to the chains of slavery, and makes a man imprison himself rather than desert wife and children. I hate it! What does this same book with its glad tidings of great joy for all people say of the rights of children? Let us see how they are treated by the "most merciful God." "_If a man hath a stubborn and rebellious son, which will not obey the voice of his father, or the voice of his mother, and that when they have chastened him, will not hearken unto them. Then shall his father and his mother lay hold of him, and bring him out unto the elders of his city, and unto the gate of his place. And they shall say unto the elders of his city: This our son is stubborn and rebellious, he will not obey our voice, he is a glutton, and a drunkard. And all the men of his city shall stone him with stones, that he die; so shalt thou put evil away from among you; and all Israel shall hear and fear_." (Deut. xxi. 18.) Abraham was commanded to offer his son Isaac as a sacrifice, and he intended to obey. The boy was not consulted. Did you ever hear the story of Jepthah's daughter? Is there in the history of the world a sadder story than that? Can a God who would accept such a sacrifice be worthy of the worship of civilized men? I believe in the rights of children, I plead for the republic at home, for the democracy of the fireside, and for this I am called a heathen and a devil by those who believe in the cheerful and comforting doctrine of eternal damnation. Read the book of Job! God met the devil and asked him where he had been, and he said: "Walking up and down the country," and the Lord said to him: "Have you noticed my man Job over here, how good he is?" And the devil said: "Of course he's good, you give him everything he wants. Just take away his property and he'll curse you. You just try it." And he did try it, and took away his goods, but Job still remained good. The devil laughed and said that he had not been tried enough. Then the Lord touched his flesh, but he was still true. Then he took away his children, but he remained faithful, and in the end, to show how much Job made by this fidelity, his property was all doubled, and he had more children than ever. If you have a child, and you love it, would you be satisfied with a God who would destroy it, and endeavour to make it up by giving you another that was better looking? No, you want that one; you want no other, and yet this is the idea of the love of children taught in the Bible. Does the Bible teach you freedom of religion? To-day we say that every man has a right to worship God or not, to worship him as he pleases. Is it the doctrine of the Bible? Read Deut. xii. 6. If a brother, or son, or daughter, or wife proposes to serve any god but your own, or that of your fathers, thou shalt not pity, nor spare, nor conceal. "_Thou shalt surely kill him; thine hand shall be the first upon him to put him to death, and thou shalt stone him with stones that he die_." And do you know, according to that, if you had lived in Palestine, and your wife that you love as your own soul had said to you, "Let us worship the sun whose golden beams clothe the world in glory; let us bow to that great luminary; I love the sun because it gave me your face; because it gave me the features of my babe; let us worship the sun;" it was then your duty to lay your hands upon her, your eye must not pity her, but it was your duty to cast the first stone against that tender and loving breast! I hate such doctrine! I hate such books! I hate gods that will write such books 1 I tell you that it is infamous! That is the religious liberty of the Bible--that's it And this God taught that doctrine to the Jews, and said to them, "Any one that teaches a different religion, kill him!" Now, let me ask, and I want to do it reverently: If, as is contended, God gave these frightful laws to the Jews, and afterwards this same God took upon himself flesh, and came among the Jews, and taught a different religion, and these Jews, in accordance with the laws which this same God gave them, crucified him, did he not reap what he had sown? The mercy of all this comes in what is called "the plan of salvation." What is that plan? According to this great plan, the innocent suffer for the guilty to satisfy a law. What sort of a law must it be that would be satisfied with the suffering of innocence? According to this plan, the salvation of the whole world depends upon the bigotry of the Jews and the treachery of Judas. According to the same plan, there would have been no death in the world if there had been no sin, and if there had been no death you and I would not have been called into existence, and if we did not exist we could not have been saved; so we owe our salvation to the bigotry of the Jews and the treachery of Judas, and we are indebted to the devil for our existence. I speak this reverently. It strikes me that what they call the atonement is a kind of moral bankruptcy. Under its merciful provisions man is allowed the privilege of sinning credit, and whenever he is guilty of a mean action, he says, "Charge it." In my judgment, this kind of bookkeeping breeds extravagance in sin. Suppose we had a law in New York that every merchant should give credit to every man who asked it, under pain and penitentiary, and that every man should take the benefit of the bankruptcy statute any Saturdays night? Doesn't the credit system in morals breed extravagance in sin? That's the question. Who's afraid of punishment which is so far away? Whom does the doctrine of hell stop? The great, the rich, the powerful? No; the poor, the weak, the despised, the mean. Did you ever hear of a man going to hell who died in New York worth a million of dollars, or with an income of twenty-five thousand a year? Did you ever hear of a man going to hell who rode in a carriage? Never. They are the gentlemen who talk about their assets, and who say, "Hell is not for me; it is for the poor. I have all the luxuries I want, give that to the poor." Who go to hell? Tramps! Let me tell you a story. There was once a frightful rain, and all the animals held a convention, to see whose fault it was, and the fox nominated the lion for chairman. The wolf seconded the motion, and the hyena said that suits. When the convention was called to order the fox was called upon to confess his sins. He stated, however, that it would be much more appropriate for the lion to commence first. Thereupon the lion said: "I am not conscious of having committed evil. It is true I have devoured a few men, but for what other purpose were men made?" And they all cheered, and were satisfied. The fox gave his views upon the goose question, and the wolf admitted that he had devoured sheep, and occasionally had killed a shepherd, but "all acquainted with the history of my family will bear me out when I say that shepherds have been the enemies of my family from the beginning of the world." Then away in the rear there arose a simple donkey, with a kind of Abrahamic countenance. He said, "I expect it's me, I had eaten nothing for three days except three thistles. I was passing a monastery; the monks were at mass. The gates were open leading to a yard full of sweet clover. I knew it was wrong, but I did slip in and I took a mouthful, but my conscience smote me and I went out," and all the animals shouted, "He's the fellow!" and in two minutes they had his hide on the fence. That's the kind of people that go to hell. Now this doctrine of hell, that has been such a comfort to my race, which so many ministers are pleading for, has been defended for ages by the fathers of the church. Your preacher says that the sovereignty of God implies that he has an absolute, unlimited, and independent right to dispose of his creatures as he will, because he made them. Has he? Suppose I take this book and change it immediately into a servient human being. Would I have a right to torture it because I made it? No; on the contrary. I would say, having brought you into existence, it is my duty to do the best for you I can. They say God has a right to damn me because he made me. I deny it. Another one says, God is not obliged to save even those who believe in Christ, and that he can either bestow salvation upon his children or retain it without any diminution of his glory. Another one says, God may save any sinner whatsoever, consistently with his justice. Let a natural person--and I claim to be one--moral or immoral, wise or unwise, let him be as just as he can, no matter what his prayers may be, what pains he may have taken to be saved, or whatever circumstances he may be in, God, according to this writer, can deny him salvation, without the least disparagement of his glory. His glories will not be in the least obscured; there is no natural man, be his character what it may, but God may cast down to hell without being charged with unfair dealing in any respect with regard to that man. Theologians tell us that God's design in the creation was simply to glorify himself. Magnificent object! "_The same shall drink of the wine of the wrath of God, which is poured out without mixture into the cup of his indignation; and he shall be tormented with fire and brimstone in the presence of the holy angels, and in the presence of the Lamb_." (Rev. i. 10.) Do you know nobody would have had an idea of hell in this world if it hadn't been for volcanoes? They were looked upon as the chimneys of hell. The idea of eternal fire never would have polluted the imagination of man but for them. An eminent theologian, describing hell, says, "There is no recounting up the million of ages the damned shall suffer. All arithmetic ends here"--and all sense, too! "They shall have nothing to do in passing away this eternity but to conflict with torments. God shall have no other use or employment for them." These words were said by gentlemen who died Christians, and who are now in the harp business in the world to come. Another declares there is nothing to keep any man or Christian out of hell except the mere pleasure of God, and their pains never grow any easier by their becoming accustomed to them. It is also declared that the devil goes about like a lion, ready to doom the wicked. Did it never occur to you what a contradiction it is to say that the devil will persecute his own friends? He wants all the recruits he can get; why then should he persecute his friends? In my judgment he should give them the best hell affords. It is in the very nature of things that torments inflicted have no tendency to bring a wicked man to repentance. Then why torment him if it will not do him good? It is simply unadulterated revenge. All the punishment in the world will not reform a man, unless he knows that he who inflicts it upon him does it for the sake of reformation, and really and truly loves him, and has his good at heart. Punishment inflicted for gratifying the appetite makes man afraid but debases him. Various reasons are given for punishing the wicked? first, that God will vindicate his injured majesty. Weil, I am glad of that! Second, he will glorify his justice--think of that. Third, he will show and glorify his grace. Every time the saved shall look upon the damned in hell it will cause in them a lively and admiring sense of the grace of God. Every look upon the damned will double the ardour and the joy of the saints in heaven. Can the believing husband in heaven look down upon the torments of the unbelieving wife in hell and then feel a thrill of joy? That is the old doctrine--that if you saw your wife in hell--the wife you love, who, in your last sickness, nursed you, that perhaps supported you by her needle when you were ill; the wife who watched by your couch night and day, and held your corpse in her loving arms when you were dead--the sight would give you great joy. That doctrine is not preached to-day. They do not preach that the sight would give you joy! but they do preach that it will not diminish your happiness. That is the doctrine of every orthodox minister in New York, and I repeat that I have no respect for men who preach such doctrines. The sight of the torments of the damned in hell will increase the ecstasy of the saints for ever! On this principle a man never enjoys a good dinner so much as when a fellow-creature is dying of famine before his eyes, or he never enjoys the cheerful warmth of his own fireside so greatly as when a poor and abandoned wretch is dying on his door-step. The saints enjoy the ecstasy, and the groans of the tormented are music to them. I say here to-night that you cannot commit a sin against an infinite being. I can sin against my brother or my neighbour, because I can injure them. There can be no sin where there is no injury. Neither can a finite being commit infinite sin. An old saint believed that hell was in the interior of the earth, and that the rotation of the earth was caused by the souls trying to get away from the fire. The old church at Stratford-on-Avon, Shakespeare's home, is adorned with pictures of hell and the like. One of the pictures represents resurrection-morning. People are getting out of their graves, and devils are catching hold of their heels. In one place there is a huge brass monster, and devils are driving scores of lost souls into his mouth. Over hot fires hang caldrons with fifty or sixty people in each, and devils are poking the fires. People are hung up on hooks by their tongues, and devils are lashing them. Up in the right-hand corner are some of the saved, with grins on their faces stretching from ear to ear. They seem to say: "Aha, what did I tell you?" Some of the old saints--gentlemen who died in the odour of sanctity and are now in glory--insisted that heaven and hell would be plainly in view of each other. Only a few years ago, the Rev. J. Furness (an appropriate name), published a little pamphlet called "A Sight in Hell" I remember when I first read that. My little child, seven years old, was ill and in bed. I thought she would not hear me, and I read some of it aloud. She arose and asked "Who says that?" I answered, "That's what they preach in some of the churches." "I never will enter a church as long as I live!" she said, and she never has. The doctrine of orthodox Christianity is that the damned shall suffer torment for ever and for ever. And if you were a wanderer, footsore, weary, with parched tongue, dying for a drop of water, and you met one who divided his poor portion with you, and died as he saw you reviving --if he was an unbeliever and you a believer, and you died and went to heaven, and he called to you from hell for a draught of water, it would be your duty to laugh at him. Rev. Mr Spurgeon says that everywhere in hell will be written the words "for ever." They will be branded on every wave of flame, they will be forged in every link of every chain, they will be seen in every lurid flash of brimstone--everywhere will be those words "for ever." Everybody will be yelling and screaming them. Just think of that picture of the mercy and justice of the eternal Father of us all. If these words are necessary why are they not written now everywhere in the world, on every tree, and every field, and on every blade of grass? I say I am entitled to have it so. I say that, it is God's duty to furnish me with the evidence. In old times they had to find a place for hell, and they found a hundred places for it. One says that it was under Lake Avernus, but the Christian thought differently. One divine tells us that it must be below the earth because Christ descended into hell. Another gives it as his opinion that hell is in the sun, and he tells us that nobody, without an express revelation from God, can prove that it is not there. Most likely. Well, he had the idea at all events of utilizing the damned as fuel to warm the earth. Another divine preached a sermon no further back than 1876, in which he said that the damned will grow worse, and the same divine says that the devil was the first Universalist. Then I am on the side of the devil. The fact is, that you have got not merely to believe the Bible, but you must also believe in a certain interpretation of it, and, mind you, you must also believe in the doctrine of the Trinity. If you don't understand it, it is your own fault. You must believe in it all the same. If you do not, all the orthodox churches agree in condemning you to everlasting flames. We have got to burn through all our lives simply with the view of making them happy. We are taught to love our enemies, to pray for those that persecute us, to forgive. Should not the merciful God practice what he preaches? I say that reverently. Why should he say "Forgive your enemies" if he will not himself forgive? Why should he say "Pray for those that despise and persecute you, but if they refuse to believe my doctrine I will burn them for ever?" I cannot believe it. Here is a little child, residing in the purlieus of the city--some little boy who is taught that it is his duty to steal by his mother who applauds his success, and pats him on the head and calls him a good boy--would it be just to condemn him to an eternity of torture? Suppose there is a God; let us bring to this question some common sense. I care nothing about the doctrines or religions or creeds of the past. Let us come to the bar of the nineteenth century and judge the matter by what we know, by what we think, by what we love. But they say to us, "If you throw away the Bible what are we to depend on then?" But no two persons in the world agree as to what the Bible is, what they are to believe, or what they are not to believe. It is like a guide-post that has been thrown down in some time of disaster, and has been put up the wrong way. Nobody can accept its guidance, for nobody knows where it would direct him. I say, "Tear down the useless guide-post," but they answer, "Oh, do not do that or we will have nothing to go by." I would say, "Old Church, you take that road, and I will take this." Another minister has said that the Bible is the great town-clock, at which we may all set our watches. But I have said to a friend of that minister, "Suppose we all should set our watches by that town-clock, there would be many persons to tell you that in old times the long hand was the hour hand, and beside, the clock hasn't been wound up for a long time." I say, let us wait till the sun rises and set our watches by nature. For my part, I am willing to give up heaven to get rid of hell. I had rather there should be no heaven than that any solitary soul should be condemned to suffer for ever and ever. But they tell me that the Bible is the book of hope. Now, in the Old Testament there is not, in my judgment, a single reference to another life. Is there a burial-service mentioned in it in which a word of hope is spoken at the grave of the dead? The idea of eternal life was not born of any book. That wave of hope and joy ebbs and flows, and will continue to ebb and flow as long as love kisses the lips of death. Let me tell you a tale of the Persian religion--of a man who, having done good for long years of his life, presented himself at the gates of Paradise, but the gates remained closed against him. He went back and followed up his good works for seven years longer, and the gates of Paradise still remaining shut against him, he toiled in works of charity until at last they were opened unto him. Think of that, and send out your missionaries among those people. There is no religion but goodness, but justice, but charity. Religion is not theory--it is life. It is not intellectual conviction--it is divine humanity, and nothing else. There is another tale from the Hindoo of a man who refused to enter Paradise without a faithful dog, urging that ingratitude was the blackest of all sins. "And the god," he said, "admitted him, dog and all." Compare that religion with the orthodox tenets of the city of New York. There is a prayer which every Brahmin prays, in which he declares that he will never enter into a final state of bliss alone, but that everywhere he will strive for universal redemption; that never will he leave the world of sin and sorrow, but remain suffering and striving and sorrowing after universal salvation. Compare that with the orthodox idea, and send out your missionaries to the benighted Hindoos. The doctrine of hell is infamous beyond all power to express. I wish there were words mean enough to express my feelings of loathing on this subject. What harm has it not done? What waste places has it not made? It has planted misery and wretchedness in this world; it peoples the future with selfish joys and lurid abysses of eternal flame. But we are getting more sense every day. We begin to despise those monstrous doctrines. If you want to better men and women change their conditions here. Don't promise them something somewhere else. One biscuit will do more good than all the tracts that were ever peddled in the world. Give them more whitewash, more light, more air. You have to change men physically before you change them intellectually. I believe the time will come when every criminal will be treated as we now treat the diseased and sick, when every penitentiary will become a reformatory; and that if criminals go to them with hatred in their bosoms, they will leave them without feelings of revenge. Let me tell you the story of Orpheus and Eurydice. Eurydice had been carried away by the god of hell, and Orpheus, her lover, went in quest of her. He took with him his lyre, and played such exquisite music that all hell was amazed. Ixion forgot his labours at the wheel, the daughters of Danaus ceased from their hopeless task, Tantalus forgot his thirst, even Pluto smiled, and, for the first time in the history of hell, the eyes of the Furies were wet with tears. As it was with the lyre of Orpheus, so it is to-day with the great harmonies of science, which are rescuing from the prisons of superstition the torn and bleeding heart of man. 
38775	----	ALTEMUS' BEAUTIFUL STORIES SERIES THE FIRST EASTER BY J. H. WILLARD ILLUSTRATED PHILADELPHIA HENRY ALTEMUS COMPANY Altemus' Illustrated Beautiful Stories Series THE FIRST CHRISTMAS. THE FIRST EASTER. ONCE IN SEVEN YEARS. The Story of the Jubilee WITH HAMMER AND NAIL. The Story of Jael and Sisera FIVE KINGS IN A CAVE. The Story of a Great Battle THE WISEST MAN. The Story of Solomon A FARMER'S WIFE. The Story of Ruth THE MAN WHO DID NOT DIE. The Story of Elijah WHEN IRON DID SWIM. The Story of Elisha WHAT IS SWEETER THAN HONEY. The Story of Samson Copyright, 1906 By Henry Altemus [Illustration: TWO ANGELS.] THE FIRST EASTER IN the story of The First Easter, as in the story of The First Christmas, there is much that is hard to understand, but if we review somewhat the Blessed Life of Jesus, we shall better appreciate the glorious significance of the day. Jesus had passed through His human life, everywhere uttering words of pity, and stretching out hands of mercy. To suffer was to have a claim upon Him. He had not used His supernatural powers for His own benefit, but for the good of others. He employed them freely, helping, comforting, healing, blessing, wherever He went. [Illustration: "HELPING, COMFORTING, HEALING, BLESSING."] Shepherds, led by angels, were the first witnesses of Jesus' birth. His boyhood was spent at Nazareth, and was entirely without sin. He studied the Old Testament Scriptures in the synagogues, but in no way did He become identified with the Pharisees or their instructions, yet when He began His ministry He was able to teach with authority. Jesus was baptized by John, who was only six months older than himself, and then, after successfully resisting the temptations of an evil spirit, He began to exercise His higher powers and gifts, thus entering upon His public activity. The life of Jesus was a wandering one during His short ministry on earth. He visited Jerusalem twice, Samaria once, Nazareth once, and Capernaum several times, besides pausing on the banks of the Jordan, and traveling from place to place in Galilee. He said of Himself, that He had not _"where to lay His head."_ It is thought that Jesus wore the usual dress of a rabbi, or teacher; a blue robe worn over a long undergarment of white, or pale gray striped with crimson; a covering of folded linen to protect His head, and sandals for His feet. Many beautiful incidents in the life of Jesus occurred between the time of the first manifestation of His miraculous powers at Cana, where He turned water into wine at a wedding feast, and the calling of the Twelve Apostles. On one of His visits to Capernaum Jesus was surrounded by sick and helpless people, and He healed them all; made them well and strong and happy. With heavy burdens lifted, and sorrowful hearts cheered, the little town slept; but Jesus set out before daylight, and, reaching a solitary place on a mountain, prayed to His Father, God. Then from village to village, Jesus carried His message and ministry of Love. One day a poor leper came to Him. Jesus touched him, and he was a leper no more. Not long, after this--again at Capernaum, four men carried a paralyzed cripple on a litter to the house where Jesus was teaching. The crowd about the door was so great that they could not enter, so they lifted their burden onto the flat roof of the house, and having made an opening, lowered the sick man, still on his litter, into the room where Jesus was. _"Son, thy sins be forgiven thee,"_ said Jesus, _"I say unto thee, arise, and take up thy bed, and go thy way into thine house."_ Instantly cured the man departed, carrying his litter as he had been commanded. The following Sabbath day Jesus publicly healed a man in the synagogue, whose hand was withered and powerless. The unbelieving rabbis, and others who were present, were so angry at Him for doing this, that in their hatred and malice they consulted with the supporters of the Roman government, whom they usually regarded as enemies, as to the surest way of bringing about His death. Then came the calling of the men whom Jesus named the Apostles. They were twelve in number and became associated in new and peculiar relations to Him. It was also the first step towards a regular method of spreading far and wide His blessed teachings. [Illustration: JESUS AND HIS APOSTLES.] Following the choosing of the Apostles, Jesus gave to the crowds who flocked to hear Him that beautiful address, which we call "The Sermon on the Mount," and after this he performed many more wonderful cures and miracles, and taught the people by means of parables or stories that they could understand. [Illustration: THE SERMON ON THE MOUNT.] In the little village of Bethany was a humble home which Jesus often visited. The family consisted of a man named Lazarus and his two sisters, Martha and Mary. Lazarus was taken sick, and died. Jesus was greatly affected by his death, for he dearly loved him. Lazarus had been in the tomb for three days before Jesus appeared at the home of the sisters, but he at once went to the tomb of his friend, and called out to him to _"come forth,"_ and the man who had been dead for three days arose sound and well. [Illustration: "THE MAN WHO HAD BEEN DEAD AROSE."] After the raising of Lazarus from the dead, many of the leading rabbis of Jerusalem, dreading the growing influence of Jesus over the people, and perhaps persuading themselves that it might lead to a revolt against the Roman government, brought all their power against Him. A council was hurriedly called; the acting high-priest that year presided, and it was formally decided to put Jesus to death. The only point to be considered was the easiest way of accomplishing their purpose. Jesus knew the malice in their hearts, and went away to a lonely village called Ephraim. Here He remained until He made his last journey to Jerusalem. While on this journey, certain mothers brought their little ones to Jesus, in the hope that He might touch them, and were rebuked by the Apostles for doing so. When Jesus heard the rebuke, He lifted the little ones tenderly in His arms, and fondly blessed them, saying, _"Suffer little children to come unto me, and forbid them, not: for of such is the kingdom of God."_ As Jesus pursued His way to Jerusalem, the roads were thronged with people going there to keep the Passover, and among the crowds were many beggars. The way led by Jericho, and close by the entrance to the city sat one of those beggars, a blind man named Bartimeus. Hearing some one in the crowd say that Jesus of Nazareth was passing by, Bartimeus called loudly for help. In vain the people bade him be silent; he only repeated his cries more loudly. Jesus listened, stopped, called the man to him, and asked, _"What wilt thou that I should do unto thee?"_ The blind man answered eagerly, _"Lord, that I might receive my sight,"_ and immediately he received it. On the afternoon of Friday, the eighth day of the Hebrew month Nisan, Jesus' once more reached the friendly home at Bethany, and there, where His welcome was always sure, He spent His last Sabbath upon earth. In the evening, He and His Apostles attended a feast at the house of a friend of Martha and Mary, a man named Simon who had once been a leper, and was not unlikely indebted to Jesus for his cure. Lazarus, who had been dead but was now alive again, was also present. During the meal, Mary anointed Jesus' feet with a perfume of the costliest kind. Some of the Apostles, led by Judas Iscariot, objected to this on the ground that it was wasteful; but Jesus reproved them, declaring that wherever the Gospel should be preached throughout the world, Mary's act of devotion should _"be spoken of for a memorial of her."_ [Illustration: MARY ANOINTED JESUS' FEET.] The news of Jesus' arrival at Bethany soon reached Jerusalem, and caused His enemies to plan for the destruction of Lazarus, also, because his restoration to life had made such an impression on the people. On the next day--the Jewish Monday, which we commemorate as "Palm Sunday"--Jesus entered Jerusalem. It was the custom for pilgrims to enter that city for the Passover in orderly processions, with music, and carrying banners. As there was no longer any need to restrain the ardor of the people Jesus prepared to conform to the custom. Following His instructions two of His disciples found at Bethpage, a village close by, a young animal which had never carried or drawn a burden. From very early times such animals had been chosen for sacred purposes. It was on this colt, with the mantles of the disciples thrown over it, that Jesus rode attended by a great multitude, who spread their garments and branches plucked from trees in the way. Between the vineyards, orchards, and olive gardens that bordered the road, the procession wound slowly along, welcomed by glad throngs that had poured out of Jerusalem to meet it, shouting, _"Hosanna! Blessed is the King of Israel that cometh in the name of the Lord!"_ Crossing the bridge over "the brook Kidron," Jesus entered Jerusalem. [Illustration: THE BROOK KIDRON. _From a Photograph._] Pilgrims were not allowed to go beyond the foot of Mount Moriah without purification, according to the Jewish ceremonial law. At this place the crowd dispersed, and Jesus, first removing His sandals, entered the Temple alone. As the day was drawing to a close, He staid there but a short time, and then returned to Bethany. But the next morning, Jesus was back in Jerusalem, and once more he expelled the merchants and money-changers from the Temple courts. Then the blind, and lame, and all who needed bodily relief surrounded Him, and He healed them willingly. The angry priests and rabbis would have seized Him if they had not feared the excited crowd, and so the day passed on, Jesus returning to the cottage at Bethany at its close, only to return to the city the next morning. The opportunity for which the enemies of Jesus were watching so eagerly came at last. One of His own trusted disciples went to the chief priests, asking what they would give him to betray his Master. His name was Judas Iscariot, or Judas of Kerioth, a little village in the south of Judea. The priests received Judas gladly, and agreed to pay him the price of a full-grown slave--thirty silver pieces, a sum equal to about twenty dollars of our money. He promised to find them an opportunity of arresting Jesus quietly, at a time when there would be no fear of inciting a riot among the people. Acting upon instructions from Jesus, Peter and John, two of the Apostles, secured a room in Jerusalem, and prepared for a celebration of the Passover. All was made ready, and Jesus and His twelve Apostles met for "The Last Supper." During the meal Jesus taught His disciples a touching lesson in humility; laying aside His upper robe, He washed and wiped their feet. Then He told them that one of their number was to betray Him, saying to Judas, _"That thou doest, do quickly."_ Judas rose and went away hastily, but none but Jesus knew his errand. Jesus then instituted the Holy Communion, which we observe in our churches, and then conversed with His beloved "Eleven," cheering their sinking spirits by promises of unspeakable sweetness. When the hour of parting came, a hymn was sung, and the little company broke up for the last time. Through the city gate, across the Kidron bridge, into the olive garden called Gethsemane, they went, leaving eight of the disciples near the entrance. Jesus and the remaining three entered the quiet shadows of the olive trees, to pray. Worn and weary, the three fell asleep. Three times Jesus awakened them, the last time saying, _"Rise up, let us go! lo! he that betrayeth Me is at hand."_ [Illustration: "THE THREE FELL ASLEEP."] As He spoke, torches flamed over the quiet garden, and the forms of armed men showed indistinctly in their light. Their guide was Judas of Kerioth. Stepping to the side of Jesus, he kissed Him, and said, _"Hail, Master!"_ the agreed way of designating Jesus to the soldiery. Not many words were spoken. Jesus surrendered at once, only stipulating that no harm should come to His Apostles, who, beside themselves with fear, forsook Him and fled. Bound, and a prisoner, Jesus was led back into the city, and to the palace probably occupied by Caiaphas, the high-priest and Annas his father-in-law and president of the Sanhedrim, or great Jewish council. First, He was taken to Annas, and from him to Caiaphas, but not before He had been subjected to much insulting treatment. False witnesses had been summoned, only to have their evidence fall to the ground, and the only hope that Caiaphas had was to secure from Jesus Himself some admission that could be construed into blasphemy. In reply to the high-priest's question, Jesus replied that He was the Christ, the Son of God. Turning to the council, Caiaphas exclaimed, _"Ye have heard the blasphemy! What think ye?"_ and the reply was, _"He is guilty of death."_ Although thus condemned by the Sanhedrim, the sentence could not be carried out unless confirmed by Pontius Pilate, the Roman Procurator of Judea, who was on his way to Jerusalem, a part of his duties being to maintain order there during great festivals. Before Pilate could be seen, Jesus was left to the brutal violence of the Roman soldiers. Once before Pilate, who was unwillingly obliged to investigate the matter, Jesus was charged with _"stirring up the people,"_ and with calling Himself the _"King of the Jews."_ Pilate was infirm of purpose, as well as unprincipled. Convinced that Jesus was the victim of ill will and jealousy, he told the priests and rabbis that He was innocent. Then he caught at a chance of escaping responsibility. The prisoner was called Jesus of Nazareth; Nazareth was in Galilee; and Herod Antipas, the tetrarch of Galilee, was at that moment in Jerusalem. The two rulers were not on good terms, but Pilate sent Jesus to Herod for judgment. Herod questioned Jesus, but received no answer. Angered at His silence, Herod first mocked Him, and then sent Him back to Pilate, dressed in a gorgeous robe. Pilate then resorted to a stratagem. Every Passover a prisoner was set free, and Pilate bade the crowd choose between Jesus and Barabbas, a robber who had committed murder in an insurrection and was then lying in prison, feeling sure that they would choose Jesus. But the priests and rabbis exerted their power to the utmost. They stirred the people to a frenzy, and then with threats and bribes urged them to demand the rebel instead of Jesus, whom, but a few days before, they had acclaimed as the Messiah. To the dismay of Pilate, the crowd shouted their decision, _"Away with this Man! And release unto us Barabbas."_ In angry helplessness, Pilate called for water, and publicly washed his hands, crying out, _"I am innocent of the blood of this just person! See ye to it."_ Instantly the frenzied people yelled in reply, _"His blood be on us and on our children!"_ Pilate then asked what he should do to Jesus, and as one great voice the answer came, _"Crucify Him!"_ The cowardly Pilate had one last hope. Possibly the cruel multitude might be touched if they saw Jesus punished by the scourge--a whip into which pieces of lead and bone had been plaited. Jesus bore the agony meekly. Then over His bruised and bleeding body a cast-off cloak was flung; a rude crown of sharp thorns was placed upon His head; and in His right hand a reed, as a mock scepter, was placed; while in heartless derision the mob sneeringly hailed Him as King of the Jews. With unwearying patience Jesus submitted to their taunts and jeers. [Illustration: "JESUS SUBMITTED TO THEIR TAUNTS AND JEERS."] Now exposed where all could see Him, the chief priests led, and the crowd again took up the cry, _"Crucify Him, Crucify Him!"_ Cowed by the words, _"If thou let this man go, thou art not Cæsar's friend;"_ feeling that he could not spare one accused of treason against the Roman emperor, Pilate yielded to the voice of the people. Hastily Jesus was stripped of his robes, and hurried towards the city gate, while with Him, also under guard, went two criminals who were to be crucified at the same time and place. Sinking under the burden of the cross upon which He was to be nailed, Jesus fell to the ground before reaching the place of execution. The soldiers of the guard transferred the cross to a man whom they met just then, and Jesus stumbled on to die. Behind Him walked sobbing women, whose tears were all the sympathy He had. [Illustration: THE PLACE OF EXECUTION.] The hill was climbed; a few rapid preparations made; and Jesus was crucified like a common criminal. At the moment when the spirit left His body, an earthquake shook the earth, chasms opened in the rocks, and tombs were thrown open by the convulsion. The Veil-of-Partition in the Temple was rent from top to bottom. Joseph of Arimathea obtained permission to remove the body of Jesus from the cross. He was a rich man, and the owner of a garden near by, in which a tomb had been hewn from a rock. Reverently the body was lowered, bathed, wrapped in perfumed linen, and laid in the rocky recess. Then a great stone was used to close the entrance to the tomb. No more could be done that day, and the little company of mourners dispersed. Their faithful footsteps died away, the night winds swept past, and the Passover moon shone full upon the spot. [Illustration: "LAID IN THE ROCKY RECESS."] Jesus lay dead, but His enemies were not at ease. A guard was ordered, and for better security a cord was drawn across the stone and sealed with clay at both ends, upon which the Roman seal was placed. [Illustration: "THEIR FAITHFUL FOOTSTEPS DIED AWAY."] The night seemed long to eyes weary with weeping and waiting for the first signs of dawn. Hardly had the eastern sky began to redden, when three women set out, laden with spices, for the garden where Jesus lay. They were Mary of Magdala, Mary the sister of Jesus' mother, and Salome, the mother of John the Evangelist. Hurrying along in the dusk of morning, they wondered on whom they might depend to roll away the stone at the mouth of the tomb, for of the guards and the seals they knew nothing. Nearing the tomb, to their unspeakable astonishment they found it open and empty, and the sentinels prostrate with terror, for they had seen an angel descend from heaven, and roll away the stone. Mary of Magdala stayed for a moment to be sure that the body of Jesus was no longer there, and then sped to the city to tell Peter and John what had happened. Quickly the two Apostles set out for the spot where Jesus' body had been laid to rest. Meanwhile, the other women remained, lost in perplexity, at the entrance to the tomb. Suddenly an angel appeared, who told them that Jesus had risen, and that they should see Him. Bewildered with surprise and joy, the startled women ran to tell what they had seen and heard to the Apostles, but their news was received with incredulity, and treated as idle tales. [Illustration: "SUDDENLY AN ANGEL APPEARED."] Mary of Magdala followed Peter and John to the garden. John outran Peter and was the first to look into the empty tomb. Peter, as soon as he arrived, entered the tomb, and noted its orderly condition. The wrappings were laid carefully aside, and the linen that had bound Jesus' head was smoothly folded, and laid apart from the wrappings. Vague as were Peter's ideas of the resurrection of Jesus, he believed that He had indeed risen as He had promised the Apostles. John stooped and entered the tomb, and he, too, was convinced. Both knew that the First Easter Day had dawned upon the world. He who had conquered death, gladdened the eyes of those who loved Him five times before the close of that Easter Day. Mary of Magdala was the first to see Him. She heard a voice, and, thinking it must be that of the gardener, she asked piteously where the body of Jesus had been laid. No answer came, but soon she heard her name pronounced, _"Mary!"_ [Illustration: "SHE HEARD HER NAME--'MARY!'"] Turning hastily, Mary saw Jesus, and no words can describe her rapturous joy. Jesus then told her to hasten to tell the Apostles that she had seen Him, and she obeyed. Meanwhile, the other women, who had returned to the garden by another path, met Jesus, and their loving hearts were set at rest. [Illustration: ON THE WAY TO EMMAUS.] On the road from Jerusalem to Emmaus, a village some eight miles from the city, two of His disciples were joined by Jesus, but not until He had become a guest at their evening meal did they recognize Him. [Illustration: SUPPER AT EMMAUS.] In some friendly house in Jerusalem, all the Apostles except Thomas were gathered. Eager feet had come through the darkness, and eager voices had demanded admittance. Now the doors were fastened for fear of wrathful priests and rulers. The two who had talked with Jesus on the way to Emmaus had told their story, and in turn had learned that Jesus had appeared to Peter. Nine of the ten Apostles present had not yet beheld Jesus since His resurrection. They had listened attentively to those who had seen their risen Lord, but still they were perplexed. An interval of silence came; then, though no door had opened, no footstep sounded, Jesus stood in their midst, breaking the stillness with the words, _"Peace be unto you!"_ Grief was slow to change to joy, but as a last convincing proof of His presence, Jesus asked for food and ate it. _"Peace be unto you!"_ He said again; _"Receive ye the Holy Ghost!"_ He added, as His form could no longer be discerned. Silently, and as suddenly as He had appeared, Jesus had disappeared, and the First Easter Day was at an end. 
38965	----	MATER CHRISTI MEDITATIONS ON OUR LADY _BY THE SAME AUTHOR_ With a Preface to each volume by the Rev. JOSEPH RICKABY, S.J. SPONSA CHRISTI. Meditations on the Religious Life. PASSIO CHRISTI. Meditations for Lent. DONA CHRISTI. Meditations for Ascension-tide, Whitsun-tide, and Corpus Christi. LONGMANS, GREEN, AND CO. LONDON, NEW YORK, BOMBAY, CALCUTTA, AND MADRAS MATER CHRISTI MEDITATIONS ON OUR LADY BY MOTHER ST PAUL HOUSE OF RETREATS, BIRMINGHAM AUTHOR OF "SPONSA CHRISTI," "PASSIO CHRISTI," ETC. WITH A PREFACE BY REV. JOSEPH RICKABY, S.J. _Mater Christi, ora pro nobis_ NEW IMPRESSION LONGMANS, GREEN AND CO. 39 PATERNOSTER ROW, LONDON FOURTH AVENUE AND 30TH STREET, NEW YORK BOMBAY, CALCUTTA, AND MADRAS 1920 All rights reserved =Nihil obstat= JOSEPHUS RICKABY, S.J. _Censor deputatus._ =Imprimatur= [+] EDUARDUS _Archiep. Birmingamien._ _Die 31 Oct. 1918._ PREFACE _JESUS CHRIST, yesterday and to-day, the same also for ever._ (Heb. xiii. 8.) His salvation extends to all generations. _My salvation shall endure for ever, and My righteousness shall not fail._ (Isaias li. 6.) Also He says: _My words shall not pass away_. (Matt. xxiv. 35.) He is the Teacher of all times, and that as well by His actions as by His words, by what He said and by what He did. It was His _to do and to teach_. (Acts i. 1.) It is ours, ours in this twentieth century, to listen to what He says, and to mark what He does. It is ours to hear Him and to see Him, spiritually. That we do by reading of His gospel, by listening to sermons, and very particularly by meditation, or by what St Ignatius calls "contemplation" of the mysteries of His life. To "contemplate" in the Ignatian sense is to make yourself present at some scene of our Saviour's life and behold it all, as it were, re-enacted before your eyes. It is the process called in modern philosophy "visualisation." These Meditations are composed on the Ignatian plan of _visualising_ what Our Lord did, said, and suffered. _Blessed are they who hear the word of GOD and keep it._ (Luke xi. 28.) Blessed are they who take pains thus to _hear_ what their Saviour _says_, to _contemplate_ and _visualise_ what He _does_. They are the persons most likely, with Mary, to _keep all these words in their heart_ (Luke ii. 51), and in their measure to fulfil the teaching of the _Teacher of all nations_. (Matt. xxviii. 19.) JOSEPH RICKABY, S.J. _20th October 1918._ _Dignare me laudare te, Virgo sacrata_ CONTENTS PAGE Prayers before and after Meditation 1 Meditations 1. Immaculate! 2 2. Mary's Birthday 6 3. Her Presentation in the Temple 9 4. Her Marriage 14 5. Hail Mary! 18 6. Mary's First Word. ("_How shall this be done?_") 23 7. Her Second Word. ("_Behold the Handmaid of the Lord_") 27 8. Her Third Word. (Her Salutation to Elizabeth) 30 9. Her Fourth Word. (The _Magnificat_) 35 10. Her Silence 38 11. Her Expectation 42 12. The Stable 45 13. The Circumcision of her Son 49 14. Her Purification 52 15. Wise Men and Babes 56 16. Egypt 60 17. Mary's Fifth Word. ("_Son, why hast Thou done so to us?_") 65 18. Nazareth 68 19. Mary's Sixth Word. ("_They have no wine_") 74 20. Her Seventh Word. ("_Whatsoever He shall say to you, do ye_") 77 21. "Who is My Mother?" 80 22. The Fourth and Fifth Dolours. (_Meeting JESUS with His Cross, and The Crucifixion_) 84 23. The Sixth and Seventh Dolours. (_The Taking down from the Cross and The Burial_) 88 24. The First Glorious Mystery 92 25. The Second and Third Glorious Mysteries 95 26. Mary's Exile 99 27. Her Death 104 28. Her Tomb 107 29. "Who is She?" (The Fourth Glorious Mystery) 110 30. Mary's Coronation. (The Fifth Glorious Mystery) 114 31. Salve Regina 118 MATER CHRISTI PRAYERS Before Meditation O Holy Ghost, give me a great devotion and a great attraction towards Mary, Thy spouse; a great support in her maternal bosom, and an abiding refuge in her mercy; so that in her and by her Thou mayest form in me JESUS Christ. (_Blessed Grignon de Montfort._) Memorare, O piissima Virgo Maria, non esse auditum a sæculo, quemquam ad tua currentem præsidia, tua implorantem auxilia, tua petentem suffragia, esse derelictum. Ego, tali animatus confidentia, ad te Virgo virginum, Mater, curro. Ad te venio; coram te gemens peccator assisto. Noli, Mater Verbi, verba mea despicere; sed audi propitia et exaudi. Amen. Remember, O most gracious Virgin Mary, that never was it known that anyone who fled to thy protection, implored thy help, and sought thy intercession was left unaided. Inspired with this confidence, I fly to thee, O Virgin of virgins, my Mother. To thee I come; before thee I stand, sinful and sorrowful. O Mother of the Word Incarnate, despise not my petitions, but in thy mercy hear and answer me. Amen. (_300 days, each time._) After Meditation My Queen and my Mother, to thee I offer myself without reserve; and to give thee a mark of my devotion, I consecrate to thee during this day, my eyes, my ears, my mouth, my heart, and my whole person. Since then I belong to thee, O my good Mother, preserve and defend me, as thy property and possession. Amen. (_100 days, once a day, if said morning and evening._) Sub tuum præsidium confugimus, sancta Dei Genitrix! nostras deprecationes ne despicias in necessitatibus nostris, sed a periculis cunctis, libera nos semper Virgo gloriosa et benedicta. We fly to thy patronage, O holy Mother of GOD. Despise not our petitions in our necessities, but deliver us always from all dangers, O glorious and blessed Virgin. Immaculate! "_Thy Holy Tabernacle which Thou hast prepared from, the beginning._" (Wisdom ix. 8.) _1st Prelude._ A picture or medal of the Immaculate Conception. _2nd Prelude._ Grace to understand. _Point I._--THE PREPARATION OF THE TABERNACLE Why should Mary be called a Tabernacle? She tells us herself--for the Church applies these words to Mary: "He that created me rested in my tabernacle." (Ecclus. xxiv. 12.) He sojourned there for a time Who "was made flesh and dwelt (_tabernacled_ the Greek word means) among us." When did GOD begin to prepare His Tabernacle? Was it on the day of the Holy and Immaculate Conception? Was it when He spoke to our first parents of "the seed of the woman"? Was it just before the War in Heaven, when He revealed His plans to the first creatures of His Hands? Long, long before! "From the beginning," the Holy Tabernacle was being prepared. And _He_ says this, Who had no beginning, with Whom is "neither beginning of days nor end of life," (Heb. vii. 3), Who says of Himself: "I am Alpha and Omega, the beginning and the end." (Apoc. i. 8.) From all Eternity, then, the Holy Tabernacle was being prepared in the mind of GOD. What care GOD took in the preparation of Mary, because she was to be the Mother of His Son! And what care He takes in His preparation of me! I, too, have always been in the mind of GOD. "From the beginning" He has prepared me to fulfil the end for which He created me. Here on earth we are very careful about the training of those who are destined to fill certain offices, and the higher the office the more careful the training. How carefully are princes of royal blood trained! How careful is the preparation of a Priest, of a Religious! But GOD has been at work at the preparation long before we begin ours, and He is training for a most important office, namely, the salvation of the soul--the end for which He created every single child of Adam. All the chequered picture of the life of GOD'S child forms a part of His preparation--all the ups and downs, and windings and turnings, and things that seemed at the time, perhaps, so useless. Mistakes and failures--even sin itself, He can, by means of the contrition which it causes, turn to good account, as He did in the cases of St Mary Magdalen, of St Peter, and of innumerable others. He knows how to bring good out of evil, and to make all work together for good to those who love Him. What have I got to do, then, in the matter? Do as Mary did, prove my love to Him by _co-operation_ in His plans for me. There must be no complaint about what He arranges. Faith must be strong enough to believe that, not only now in the present, all things are working together to enable me to fulfil the end for which GOD created me; but that in the past, too--that past which I so often allow to disturb my peace--GOD was working, and preparing me step by step for what He intended me to be. It is want of faith, really, which is often at the bottom of all my problems and difficulties. I will not believe that He forgives and forgets and brings good out of the evil. This it is which interferes in GOD'S preparation of me, and makes me unfit for the work for which He has so patiently been preparing me. Let me think to-day of Mary's perfect co-operation, and ask her to obtain for me more faith and more love. _Point II._--THE HOLY TABERNACLE What was it? A human body and soul specially prepared by GOD to be the Tabernacle where His Son should rest--a body, we may well believe, more than usually beautiful, for that body from which He that was "fairer than the sons of men" was to take flesh, must needs be fair too. "Thou art _all_ fair." But it was the _soul_ which made the Tabernacle holy. Here the preparation had been special and unique. Mary's soul had a beauty all its own, for neither original sin nor any of its effects had ever touched it. Not only was it sinless, as my soul was after Baptism, but, instead of being prone to evil, it was upright, and ever aspiring after good. Never once was there a wilful imperfection in Mary's soul. It is probable, too, that her understanding was enlightened, and that she had the full use of reason from the moment of her Conception, that is, from the moment when her body and soul were joined together. In her will there was no weakness, it was in perfect conformity with GOD'S Will; and in her heart there was no concupiscence. Her body, too, shared in this wondrous liberty, for it knew neither sickness nor corruption. But are we not making Mary almost equal with her Son? No, for the gulf between them is that between the Creator and the creature. Could any gulf be wider? Her Son was GOD, and was impeccable _by nature_. Mary was impeccable _by grace_. Mary was sinless because GOD her Creator chose to make her so, so that at the moment of her conception He was able to say: "Thou art all fair--there is no spot in thee." Such was "the Holy Tabernacle prepared from the beginning." And Mary is my model! Does it seem impossible? Does it almost weary me to have such perfection given me to copy? Let me answer my question by another: _Could_ GOD do otherwise? Would it be worthy of Himself if He were to give me anything less than a _perfect_ copy? If for our pupils, who are studying merely things of time, we seek ever the best models, can we expect GOD, Who is training for eternity, to give His pupils a copy that is less than perfect? And the task need not discourage us. GOD is not a hard master expecting to reap where He has not sown. He does not expect more than He has given; He does not expect perfection; but He does expect generous efforts. He does expect fidelity, and correspondence to the grace He has given. It was her constant perseverance in these virtues which kept Mary always full of grace and pleasing to GOD, not the privilege of her Immaculate Conception. "O Mary, conceived without sin, pray for us who have recourse to thee." Pray that I, who with all a child's love and admiration desire to copy my Mother, may never be discouraged, but may go on, ever aiming at perfection, and never surprised at the want of it; full of faults and failings always, but full, too, of love and confidence and conformity to GOD'S Will. So shall I one day, with my Mother's prayers and help, be presented "spotless before the presence of His glory with exceeding joy." (Jude 24.) _Colloquy._ "O GOD, Who by the Immaculate Conception of a Virgin didst prepare a worthy habitation for Thy Son, we beseech Thee that Thou, Who through the foreseen death of Thy same Son didst preserve her from all stain of sin, wouldst grant also to us through her intercession to come pure to Thee." (_Collect for the Feast of the Immaculate Conception._) _Resolution._ To strive to copy my model. _Spiritual Bouquet._ "Be diligent, that ye may be found undefiled and unspotted to Him in peace." (2 Peter iii. 14.) Mary's Birthday "_In me is all grace._" (Ecclus. xxiv. 25.) _1st Prelude._ A picture of Our Lady's Nativity. St Anne is holding up her babe, just swaddled, and offering it to GOD; the nurse is waiting to put the little one in its cradle. St Joachim is coming into the room. A Dove is hovering over the babe's head. Angels are looking on. _2nd Prelude._ Grace to look on with the Angels, and try to understand. _Point I._--THE ANGELS What does it all mean? Why are the Angels so full of interest? Was the birth of this little one so different from any other? It was indeed miraculous, but Joachim and Anne were by no means the only ones thus favoured. No, there is something beyond this which is engaging the interest of the Angels. They see in this little babe, whom Anne is offering to GOD, a sight to make them wonder and adore--they see a soul which has never been touched by original sin. They had seen Adam created in grace; they had seen Jeremias, and later would see John Baptist, both spotless from their birth, but spotless because they had been _cleansed_ from original sin before birth. In these souls, however, they saw no more than they see in each little soul as it leaves the baptismal font, grace having taken the place of original sin. But in Mary they see a sight which they have never seen before--a soul whose sanctity surpasses that of angels and of men, a soul which will glorify GOD more perfectly than any other creature ever has done, or will do. No wonder the Angels are lost in admiration! They have known about the Incarnation ever since the War in Heaven; now they see one of the steps by which it was to be accomplished. They see the "tabernacle prepared," and at its side they will never cease to wonder and praise GOD, as long as that pure soul stays in this land of exile. _Point II._--THE BABE Mary was born with an end to fulfil, just as I was. She was created to praise, reverence, and serve GOD, just as I was; created to save her soul, just as I was. And because of her absolute purity, she understood her end perfectly from the first moment of her existence, and followed it always without swerving. While her mother was offering her to GOD, she, with the full use of her reason (as many hold) offered herself to fulfil the end for which she had been created. She did not know what the _particular_ end was to be--GOD did not reveal to her till the day of the Incarnation, that she was to be the Mother of GOD--but she offered herself to do what GOD wished, she put herself at His disposal. And this is what I must do every day of my life if I would fulfil the end for which GOD has created me. Here I am, Lord, to do Thy bidding, to do whatever Thou didst intend me to do to-day. I may not know, any more than did the Immaculate babe in her cradle, what the _particular_ end is for which He has destined me; but that does not matter. If I am found faithfully doing my duty of the moment, whatever it may be--doing it, that is to say, for GOD, praising, reverencing, and serving Him in it--I shall not miss the important moment in my life when GOD calls me to the special work for which He has destined me. I can, if I will, do each little duty of my everyday life for GOD, with the pure motive of giving Him pleasure. It is the surest way of making myself indifferent as to whether or not the duty gives _me_ pleasure! And it ensures that, from one point of view, _all_ duties will be a pleasure. I was created by GOD to do this particular thing for Him at this particular moment, so I do it. What an uplifting thought! It puts me at once on to another plane--the supernatural plane--where the whole aspect is different. This is the truth, which the little one whose birthday I am thinking about to-day understood so perfectly. "Behold the handmaid of the Lord," was her cry even then. It was because Mary understood the value of the "Sacrament of the moment," as it has been called, that when _the_ moment of her life came, and her great end was revealed to her, she was able to say: "_Ecce ancilla Domini!_" She was used to saying it; it was the most natural thing for her to say. And so will it be for me, if only I will practise as Mary did. I shall bow to His Will in the _great_ crises of my life--not naturally but supernaturally--because I have formed the habit in all the _little_ things that make up my life. _Point III._--THE DOVE Overshadowing His spouse is the Holy Ghost. He it was Who filled her with grace at the moment of the Immaculate Conception. He it is Who will keep her "full of grace" at every moment of her life. Never for one instant will He leave her. Never for one instant will she cease to be the Temple of the Holy Ghost. (1 Cor. vi. 19.) Always will He be able to say to her: "Thou art all fair, O my love, and there is not a spot in thee." (Cant. iv. 7.) Why? Because Mary will never "_extinguish_ the Holy Spirit." (1 Thess. v. 19.) She will never "_grieve_" Him. (Eph. iv. 30.) And not only will she never resist a single one of His inspirations, but she will never let _one_ pass by unnoticed. Her correspondence to grace will be perfect. Oh, what need I have to turn to the little one in her cradle to-day, and say: "Pray for me _now_"! Pray that I may never extinguish the Holy Spirit, but live always in a state of grace. Pray that I may never grieve Him, Whose temple I am, by resisting His pleadings with me. _Colloquy_ with the babe in her cradle. _Resolution._ To make much of the "Sacrament of the moment" to-day. _Spiritual Bouquet._ "In me is all grace." (Ecclus. xxiv. 25.) Mary's Presentation in the Temple "_In the holy dwelling-place I have ministered before Him._" (Ecclus. xxiv. 14.) _1st Prelude._ The child on the Temple steps. _2nd Prelude._ Grace to present myself to GOD. _Point I._--MARY At the age of three years, tradition tells us, Mary left her home to go and live in the Temple--not merely, as other little girls of her time, to attend the Temple school, but to dedicate herself to GOD, and to live continually under the shadow of His Presence, as Samuel of old had done. Her desire, even at that tender age, was to confirm her parents' dedication of her at her birth, by giving herself up entirely to GOD, to live a hidden life with Him away from everything, however lawful, that might disturb her union with Him. She waited only for His call, and as soon as it was given, she left all and followed--even her parents must take a second place. So, joyously and eagerly, did Mary fulfil her end of the moment. GOD called her, and she went to Him. She did not know what He wanted her for, nor did she seek to know. Sufficient for her that He wanted her, and was calling. At once she presented herself before Him as the little Samuel of old. "Here am I, for Thou didst call me. Speak, for Thy servant heareth." (1 Kings iii. 9.) She was ready for anything that He might want. And this should be the attitude of all who would serve Him--a constant presentation of themselves to Him for whatever He wants. This attitude can only be arrived at by the spirit of sacrifice. To be always at liberty for GOD'S service, the soul must be disentangled from all else, free from all that would hold it back. And this means sacrifice. Mary, presenting herself at the Temple, is specially, though not exclusively, the model of those who are called to the Religious Life. But do not let us make any mistake--a Religious is not _free_ to give himself to GOD because he has left parents and home and possessions. He may go through all these preliminaries, and yet not be, by any means, at GOD'S service. The great work of disentangling the soul and setting it free is done _inside_ the Cloister, while the Religious is learning that it is _self_ which stands in the way, and that until _that_ is crushed, he is not able to render to GOD free and joyous service, such as Mary did. And this lesson has to be learned by those outside the Cloister too, if they would follow Mary in being always ready to answer GOD'S calls and do His biddings. It is not their home and friends and possessions that they are asked to quit, but _themselves_. GOD will constantly want them in the midst of their busy lives, and they will never be too much occupied or engrossed to answer His calls, if self is out of the question. "Present your bodies a living sacrifice, holy, pleasing unto GOD, your reasonable service." (Rom. xii. 1.) Present yourselves each day, each hour, each moment, with each joy, each sorrow, each duty, each difficulty--present all as an offering to Him, Who expects your reasonable service. This is the lesson which the child on the Temple steps teaches us to-day--the lesson of _self-sacrifice_. _Point II._--JOACHIM AND ANNE Her parents did not thwart her in her wish. They had made their sacrifice three years before, and they were not likely to take it back now. They had probably told Mary the story of their long, childless years; of their earnest prayers to GOD; and of their promise to give the child back to Him should He bless them with one. They would have told her, too, that they had offered her to GOD at birth, and that, as soon as she was old enough, she would present herself in GOD'S Temple, as something dedicated to His service. And now, to-day, they accompany their little one to the "holy dwelling-place" where she is to "minister before Him," and watch her climbing the Temple steps, at the top of which the Priest is waiting to receive her in GOD'S name. Desolate though their home would now be, Joachim and Anne would rather have it so than interfere in any way with the call of GOD to their child. They recognised that GOD has _His_ rights, and that these must come first. What an honour GOD shows to parents, when He gives a vocation to a child of theirs; and what a blessing is thereby bestowed on the whole family! And surely, if there is merit laid up for the one who, in answer to GOD'S call, leaves father, mother, brother, sister, friend, to follow Him, there is merit also for those who make perhaps an equally great sacrifice, even if it is somewhat grudgingly made. GOD will not forget the hearts and homes which have been made desolate because He has ravished a heart there. He is never outdone in generosity. Those who have given up their treasure on earth will find treasure in Heaven. Children sometimes give themselves unnecessary pain by presuming too readily that their parents' consent will be withheld. They will often find their parents more ready than they think to make the sacrifice. It is not likely that GOD would give a vocation in a family without making _some_ sort of preparation there for it. His ways are not our ways, and so it happens that there are many surprises. _Point III._--MARY'S VOW It is not known exactly when she made it--probably not on the day of her Presentation. She would take then the _Temporary_ Vow of Virginity, as all the pupils at the Temple school did till they left to be married. But some time during her stay in the Temple, Mary, probably unknown to anyone but GOD, Who inspired her, took a vow of _Perpetual_ Virginity. She could keep nothing back from GOD; He must have all. She presented herself "wholly acceptable unto GOD." To understand what a strange thing this Vow of Mary's was, we must remember that in those days _everyone_ married, even priests and High Priests, and everyone hoped--and especially now that the expectation was getting keener--that his would be the favoured family in which the Messias was to be born. Mary had more reason to hope than many others, for was she not of the tribe of Judah, and of the House of David? Yet she took a vow which cut her off from all hope that this greatest of blessings would be hers. Why? Because her sacrifice of self was perfect. Self was laid entirely on one side, and, as a consequence, her humility was so great that she never thought it possible that the honour of being the Mother of the Messias could be hers, and she cut herself off from all prospect of it. It was this very self-abnegation which was fitting Mary for the destiny GOD intended for her. Her Vow of Virginity, made in response to GOD'S inspirations, was the necessary means for the carrying out of His plans. GOD'S ways are not our ways. "Behold a _virgin_ shall conceive and bear a Son, and His name shall be called Emmanuel." (Is. vii. 14.) But there were no virgins; and the fact that every Mother in Israel was hoping to be the Mother of the Messias was a proof that this "sign," which GOD Himself gave, was wholly ignored. It was contrary to the spirit of the age. And this was GOD'S moment. Clearly He gave His call: "Hearken, O daughter, and see, and incline thy ear, and forget thy people and thy father's house; and the King shall greatly desire thy beauty." (Ps. xliv. 11, 12.) And as the little one, in answer to the appeal, joyously mounted the Temple steps, the Angels were already saluting her as _Queen of Virgins_. She was the first; how many would follow in her train! "_After her_ shall virgins be brought to the King; her neighbours shall be brought to Thee; they shall be brought with gladness and rejoicing; they shall be brought into the Temple of the King. Instead of thy fathers, sons shall be born unto thee." (Verses 15-17.) May there not be a warning here for those who, having, in imitation of Mary, taken the Vow of Virginity, desire too ardently to be the "spiritual Mothers of children"? Mary had no such desires. Her whole desire was for union with GOD--there was not a tinge of self in it. The soul which thinks itself unworthy of being used is the one GOD uses, the soul which is wrapped up in seeking after its own perfection, hiding itself in its interior life, living its life in solitude with GOD and for GOD. Blessed are the Mothers of spiritual children! Yes, but rather blessed are they who hear the word of GOD and keep it. There should be no limit to our zeal for souls, but it should be covered up by an annihilation of self, and an unobtrusive humility--a humility which teaches us to _act_, not to talk, as if _we_ could never be the ones chosen by GOD to do His work. Humility, far from being an obstacle, always makes it easier for GOD to carry out His plans. _Colloquy._ "O Mary, Queen of Virgins, grant that by thy intercession we may deserve to be presented one day to the Most High in the Temple of His glory." (_Collect for the Feast of the Presentation, B.V.M., Nov. 21._) _Resolution._ To present myself often to GOD to-day. _Spiritual Bouquet._ "Congratulate me, all ye that love the Lord, because when I was a little one, I pleased the Most High." (_Common Office of Our Lady._) Mary's Marriage "_Joseph, the husband of Mary, of whom was born JESUS, Who is called Christ._" (St Matt. i. 16.) _1st Prelude._ Picture of the marriage of Our Lady and St Joseph. _2nd Prelude._ The grace of confidence in GOD. _Point I._--MARY Twelve years have passed since the little child mounted the Temple steps to present herself to GOD. Never, during that time, has she taken back the smallest part of her offering. Always has she been presenting herself as a living sacrifice; always has she been _full_ of grace, doing GOD'S will perfectly, glorifying Him by her every thought, word, and action, as no human creature had ever glorified Him. How much Mary added during those twelve years to the Treasury of merits from which the Church was to draw, through all time, in answer to the appeals of her children, who were anxious to make satisfaction for their sins! In return for a little Indulgenced Prayer, or Act, the Church unlocks the Treasury, and the superabundant merits of Mary, added to the infinite merits of her Divine Son, are given to the suppliant, either to make satisfaction for his own sins, or, if he will, to be applied to the souls in Purgatory, and thus lessen the debt they owe to GOD, and shorten the distance that lies between them and the Beatific Vision, for which they so earnestly long. Oh, blessed Treasury of merits! JESUS, Who poured into it His infinite merits, has an interest in it. Mary, whose wondrous merits all went into it, has an interest in it. The Saints, whose superabundant satisfactions are stored up there, have an interest in it. The Holy Souls must watch with the keenest interest for the moments when the Church, coming with the keys, entreats from Him, Who alone has jurisdiction in Purgatory, that her treasures may be handed to this or that particular soul; and He, Whose justice, as well as His mercy, is infinite, will distribute them as He will. And shall not I, too, take an interest in this wondrous Treasury? Let me never forget to make use of it; and let my prayer every morning be a fervent and a heart-felt one: "I desire to gain all the Indulgences that I can this day." But the time came when Mary had to leave the seclusion of the Temple, and give herself in marriage. She was helpless to prevent this, for her Vow was a secret, unknown even to her parents. All she could do was to leave the matter in GOD'S Hands. It was to Him she had offered her virginity, and she trusted Him to guard it. How simple and child-like was her trust! The path pointed out to her _appeared_ to be directly opposite to the one she had chosen, but it was pointed out by those whom GOD had chosen to represent Himself to her--the priests of the Temple, or her parents, or both. Her faith was great enough to believe that GOD can make no mistakes, that He cannot call in two different directions, that all will work together to fulfil His Will, if only His Will is put _first_. What a lesson for us! How often in my life has something happened, some way opened, which seemed to cut at the very root of some cherished plan! And yet, on looking back, I see that had I not followed GOD'S call along the path which _seemed_ to be leading the wrong way, I should never have been able to carry out that plan which I had made for His glory. Why was Abraham called the friend of GOD? Was it not because of his confidence in GOD--confidence shown in his readiness to follow wherever GOD called--even when He called him to sacrifice the child of the promises? GOD loves to lead us about, by circuitous paths, and thus to bring out our love and trust and obedience. Had Mary taken a line of her own, and refused to marry because of her Vow, she would have frustrated GOD'S plans for the Incarnation. I do not want to frustrate His plans for me. Let me remember this the next time I am tempted to turn a deaf ear to a call of His, which does not fit in with my tastes and desires and hopes. _Point II._--JOSEPH The husband, chosen by GOD for this most delicate and most responsible position, was our dear St Joseph. He was the one man in all the world of whom GOD could be sure. He was "a just man," one who would put no obstacle to GOD'S designs, but would, by his silence, tact, self-sacrifice, and fidelity lend himself to further them. Let me dwell for a little while on these qualities--qualities which GOD values and looks for, when He wants someone to whom He can entrust His work or His secrets; and perhaps I shall discover things which may help me to be more zealous in His service, to be less for self and more for Him. Some have thought that Mary confided her secret to Joseph; and that he showed his sympathy, and readiness to enter into all her interests, by taking the Vow of Virginity too, thus preparing himself to be the husband of Mary and the foster-father of JESUS. _Point III._--THE MARRIAGE And so this most beautiful marriage took place; and the Holy Spirit, Who was ever watching over His spouse, blessed and sanctified the union of these two virgin souls. It was a union in which the body was forgotten--or rather, the spiritual life had reached such heights by means of the body, that is, of the senses, that the soul was able to live entirely in those heights. The soul was helped upwards by the body, as GOD intended it to be. When the body is dead, the soul can grow no more. The level of the spiritual life, at which I am found at death, will be mine through all eternity. The converse of this truth is, that the body is necessary for the growth of the spiritual life, and that the soul grows in proportion to the help it gets from the body. These thoughts will help me to understand how much the chaste marriage of Joseph and Mary must have aided their spiritual life, and how the Angels must have rejoiced at a union which savoured so much more of Heaven than of Earth. Now, all was ready. The Virgin who was to conceive and bear a child, Whose name was to be Emmanuel--GOD with us--had got a guardian. GOD could work His stupendous miracle, and keep it hidden, as He willed it to be for the present, from the curious gaze of unbelievers. Mary, by her self-abandonment, was supplying GOD with all He needed, never thwarting Him, nor putting the least obstacle in His way. And so we leave her, doing the work of the little cottage at Nazareth, while her carpenter-husband labours to support her. Mary has changed her abode; her outward circumstances have altered; but her union with GOD suffers no change; it remains unbroken, undisturbed; nothing has the power to disturb her thoughts of Him. And Mary is my model. What I have to aim at, too, is a union with GOD so real and so close that the changes and chances of this mortal life have no power to interrupt it. This blessed lot will be mine when I have faith enough to see GOD'S Hand in every circumstance of my life. If I know that He is there, why need I trouble so much about the ups and downs? The sea of life is bound to have waves. What I have to do is to see to it that my little barque rides on the top of them in the most perfect security and peace. The Master is at the helm, and I am _with Him_ in the boat. My thoughts, surely, will be fixed on Him rather than on the changes in the weather! _Colloquy_ with Our Lady, asking her to get me more faith. _Resolution._ To let nothing interrupt my union with GOD. _Spiritual Bouquet._ "Sancta Virgo virginum, ora pro nobis." Hail Mary! "_The Angel Gabriel was sent from GOD into a city of Galilee, called Nazareth, to a virgin espoused to a man whose name was Joseph, of the house of David; and the Virgin's name was Mary. And the Angel, being come in, said unto her: Hail! full of grace, the Lord is with thee: blessed art thou among women!_" (St Luke i. 26-28.) _1st Prelude._ Gabriel saying the first _Hail Mary_. _2nd Prelude._ Grace to say my _Hail Maries_ well. When all was ready and GOD'S moment had arrived--"when the fulness of the time was come" (Gal. iv. 4)--heaven opened, and one of GOD'S messengers, Gabriel, an Archangel, was sent to Nazareth on a secret errand to Mary. He knew her well, and he expressed his knowledge in the first _Hail Mary_ that was ever said. Let us meditate on these familiar words, and try to find a few thoughts which may help us to say our _Hail Maries_ better. _Point I._--HAIL! Reverently he salutes her; for though she is not yet the Mother of GOD, she is immaculate, and worthy of all honour; besides, he is in the secret, and knows GOD'S designs. "Hail! full of grace." What does it mean--this word "_Ave_," _Hail!_ with which Gabriel begins his message? It is an expression of respect, honour, and reverence. It was the salutation always given to the Roman Emperor: _Ave! Cæsar Imperator._ But it is not only a form of greeting; it implies also that he who uses it is anxious to attract attention because he has something to say or some favour to ask. How often I say it!--_Hail Mary!_ What do I mean by it? I ought to mean that I am saluting the Queen of Heaven with all respect, honour, and reverence; and also that I, her child, am calling my Mother's attention. When she hears my _Hail!_ she expects that I have something to say to her, or that I want something. Is it so? And if Mary turned and said: "Yes, my child, what is it?" should I know? My _Hail!_ should be also to call my Mother's attention to the fact that I am there if _she_ has anything to say to me, or if she wants anything. Hail Mary! Your child is here, ready to do anything for you. When she turns at my _Hail!_ to ask me for something, does she always get it? Or is she disappointed to find that her child's thoughts are not really with her at all? What shall I do, for I know that I stand convicted; and much though I should like each _Hail Mary_ that I say to mean all this, I know that it does _not_? Would it be better not to say it at all, than to risk any want of respect to that Mother whom I love so dearly? Oh no. Does not a mother love to hear the voice of her babe in its cradle, even though the sounds it makes are quite inarticulate, and it cannot say what it wants? She always understands, and is able to interpret the baby language, and will give it what is good for it, though it may be all unconscious of its needs. None but the mother would recognise that the babe was calling her attention--not even the babe itself. Is not this something like my _Hail Maries_ carelessly and lightly said? I say them because I am Mary's child; it is the most natural thing to do; and she will interpret them as her Mother's heart knows how. And, like the babe in its cradle, I love to feel that she is at my side, because I have attracted her attention, even though I may have done it almost from habit, and may not know exactly why. Hail Mary! I will say the blest words as often as I can, putting into them all the meaning and fervour of which I am capable, and leaving it to my Mother to make up all deficiencies. _Point II._--FULL OF GRACE How is Mary full of grace? 1. Because she was conceived without sin: that is, her soul was full of grace instead of original sin. She was full of grace always--even before she was the Mother of the Author of grace. 2. Because of her correspondence to grace. She was always faithful to grace. She never let one single opportunity pass by her unused. The more faithful I am to the inspirations of grace, the fuller shall I be of grace. It is a question of my fidelity, not of GOD'S generosity. He never fails--the grace is always there waiting for me. 3. Because she was always meriting grace. Each correspondence to grace entitled her to more, as it does me. It is by virtue of her merits that she can obtain from her Divine Son all the grace that her children need. Confidently may they appeal to her, for she is the "Mother of Divine Grace." "_In me is all grace of the way._" (Ecclus. xxiv. 25.) So Mary says to her children, and she has all I need for the way--that is, for my journey through life. The way is hard--it is the Highway of the Cross, the way that JESUS trod before me. Let me never attempt to tread it alone--not for a single hour, for the pitfalls are many; but let me ask Mary to accompany me--Mary with her never-failing supply of grace. It was JESUS Himself Who gave me His Mother, and He gave her also all the grace that He knew I should need for the way. What a provision He has made for me! If I drew upon my stores more confidently, I should be much fuller of grace than I am. _Hail Mary! full of grace_, thou art my Mother. Let me put my hands in thine and keep close to thee. So shall the way have no terrors for me, and so shall I be able to tread in the Footsteps of thy Son, along His Own Highway of the Cross. _Point III._--THE LORD IS WITH THEE. BLESSED ART THOU AMONG WOMEN _The Lord is with thee._ These words were often said of or to those to whom GOD was about to entrust some special work. He was "with Joseph" while he was in Putiphar's prison, preparing him for the great work of serving the nation during the famine. (Gen. xxxix. 21.) "I will be with thee," GOD said to Moses at the burning bush, when He told him that it was he who was to bring the children of Israel out of Egypt. (Ex. iii. 12.) And to Josue, who had to bring the chosen people into the promised land, He said: "As I have been with Moses, so I will be with thee. Fear not, and be not dismayed: because the Lord thy GOD is with thee in all things whatsoever thou shalt go to." (Jos. i. 5-9.) "The Lord is with thee, O most valiant of men." This was the message the angel brought to Gedeon at the threshing floor, for he was to leave his wheat and go to deliver GOD'S people from idolatry and from their enemies. (Jud. vi. 12.) And now when Mary is being singled out for the greatest work that was ever entrusted to any child of Adam--that of being the Mother of Him Who was to save not one nation only, but the whole world, GOD sends an Archangel and bids him say to her: _The Lord is with thee_. GOD was with Mary always; but now all three Persons of the Blessed Trinity are to be with her in a very special way, to enable her to co-operate with GOD'S designs for her. But the message goes further: "Blessed art thou among women." Gabriel tells her that GOD'S message to her is that she is blessed, and more blessed than all other women! It is praise indeed, and praise from GOD Himself. But GOD can trust Mary with praise. She is full of humility, for she is full of grace; and GOD knows that she will look at things from His point of view--not from her own. I may get some consolation from these words for myself. GOD sometimes gives me work to do for Him. How blessed I am to be picked out and chosen by Him! And I may be quite sure that He is _with me_ for it. It is His own work, and He will look after it Himself; but He needs an instrument. The workman is never far from his tools, unless he has thrown them on one side as useless. "The Lord is with thee." If I see to it that I am an instrument fit and ready for His service, I need have no other anxiety. He will use me when He wants me; the responsibility of the work will be all His, and He will be with me, doing His work by means of me. O Mary, my Mother, help me to see things from GOD'S point of view, as thou didst. Obtain for me the grace to be full of confidence about any work with which GOD may entrust me. And while I rejoice to be amongst those _blessed_ ones whom He picks out to do His work, obtain for me the grace of humility. And if the Workman should allow any words of praise to be given to the instrument, may it be because He can count on the humility of His instrument--because He knows that the praise will all be passed on to Himself. _Colloquy_ with my Mother as we walk along "the way" together--a colloquy about correspondence to grace, about being never alone in my work, about the blessedness of being chosen by Him, about humility. _Resolution._ To let my Rosary recall some of these thoughts to-day. _Spiritual Bouquet._ "Among the blessed she shall be blessed." (Ecclus. xxiv. 4.) Mary's First Word "_And Mary said to the Angel: How shall this be done, because I know not man?_" (St Luke i. 34.) _1st Prelude._ A picture of the Annunciation. _2nd Prelude._ That my love for GOD may be great enough to separate me from all else. _Point I._--MARY'S SILENCE We do not know what Mary was doing when the heavenly visitor arrived with his message. She is generally represented as kneeling in contemplation. She may have been: or she may have been about her work. In any case, she was engaged in prayer, for Mary's heart and mind were ever lifted up to GOD; and that is prayer. And GOD can reveal His secrets just as easily to those who are working as to those who are given up to contemplation. No wonder Mary's attention is arrested, for not only does she see one of GOD'S Archangels, but it is to _her_ that he has come, to _her_ that he is showing such reverence and honour, to _her_ that he is now delivering his message: "Hail! ... full of grace; the Lord is with thee.... Blessed art thou among women." Each sentence of the message seems more wonderful and startling than the last. Mary does not speak, but she is _troubled_, as she thinks within herself what manner of salutation this is. Her intelligence is perfect, and she knows at once what the message means. It means that she, the one woman who has cut herself off from every prospect of being the Mother of the Messias; that she, who has felt herself so utterly unworthy that legend tells us she used to pray that she might be His Mother's _servant_; that _she_ has been singled out by GOD as the one who was to be blessed among women. And she is _troubled_. It is not the presence of the Angel nor the dignity of his message which is disquieting her--her trouble goes deeper; but still she does not speak--she waits in silence for GOD to explain Himself or to direct her. How much wiser in _most_ cases it would be for me, if I kept silence, for a time at any rate, when I am face to face with trouble, or difficulty, or perplexity. Of one thing I may be sure--that the trouble is a message from GOD, and if I wait patiently, He will reveal more to me, and throw light upon what seems so obscure. Nothing is gained by making complaints, and losing my calm and self-possession. Much is gained by silence; for silence to man, at such times, generally means converse with GOD, and to obtain this more intimate union with my heart is one of His chief reasons for sending me His messages. Gabriel, seeing that she is troubled, hastens to reassure her: "Fear not, Mary." He is GOD'S messenger, and he is giving GOD'S consolation, so he calls her by her name. Consolation is never far off when it is to GOD alone that we turn for it. Gabriel then tells her quite plainly what are GOD'S intentions concerning her, if she gives her consent and co-operation--that she is indeed to be the Mother of the Messias; that she is to call Him JESUS; that her Son is to be great, and is to be called the Son of the Most High; that GOD will give Him a throne and a kingdom; and that of His kingdom there shall be no end. _Point II._--MARY'S FIRST WORD She has pondered in her heart, and now she speaks: "_How shall this be done?_" St Bernardine, who calls the seven recorded words of Our Lady, "_Seven Flames of Love_," calls this first word "A Flame of _Separating_ Love" (_flamma amoris separantis_). Let us try to find out why. "How shall this be done?" Her question shows clearly what is the cause of her trouble. It is the thought of her vow of virginity--that precious offering which, as a little child, she had made to GOD. This it is which forces Mary, who so values silence, to speak. "How shall this be done," and yet my vow be left intact? To it at any cost I must be faithful. Mary, by her first word, shows that her love for GOD is so intense that it separates her from all else besides. It was out of love for Him that she made that vow. It was a flame of separating love that burnt within her, making a clear division between GOD and anything, however lawful and even desirable in itself, which might hinder her union with Him. And it is the same flame of love which now impels her to speak: "How shall this be done?" seeing that I am separated, consecrated to GOD. Her love so detaches her from all else that even the honour of being singled out to be the Mother of GOD has no attraction for her in comparison with keeping that contract made with GOD, by which she promised to be wholly His. Am I, like Mary, absolutely faithful to any contract that I may have made with GOD? Do I say: "How can this be done?" seeing I have made that promise, seeing I am a Christian, seeing I have been to Holy Communion, seeing I have taken certain vows. All these are so many cords of love which should separate me from the world. My contract with GOD must come before everything else--all turns upon my fidelity to it. Mary was troubled because she feared her vow was in danger; and her trouble was pleasing to GOD. Mary's separating love for GOD was the outcome of GOD'S separating love for Mary. Her very vow of virginity, which, humanly speaking, made it impossible for her to be the Mother of the Messias, was part of GOD'S plan, separating her from the rest of the world for this honour. When GOD wants something done, He separates the soul which He has chosen to do it, though at the moment the soul may be wholly unconscious of the reasons for the process which gives it so much pain. The separation may be one of place, or family, or affections, or cherished hopes and plans. GOD'S separating love takes various forms: but in some way or other He must and will separate from self those whom He intends to use for His service. St Paul says of himself that GOD separated him from his earliest infancy. (Gal. i. 15.) None would have guessed that he was separated when he was haling the Christians to death and persecuting the Church of GOD beyond measure. We understand so little of GOD'S plans, and of His preparation of souls for His service. St Paul tells us that later he was "separated unto the Gospel of GOD." (Rom. i. 1.) And when Our Lord wanted him for a special mission, the order went forth to the Church: "Separate me Saul and Barnabas for the work whereunto I have taken them." Help me, my Mother, to co-operate with grace, lest I hinder GOD'S designs for me; and while _His_ love is a separating one, may mine be the same--a love strong enough to separate me from all but His Will. _Colloquy_ with Mary, asking her to obtain for me the grace to say with her: "How shall this be done?" whenever the least thing comes between me and my duty to GOD. _Resolution._ To let nothing to-day separate me from the love of GOD. (Rom. viii. 39.) _Spiritual Bouquet._ "How shall this be done?" Mary's Second Word "_The Holy Ghost shall come upon thee, and the power of the Most High shall overshadow thee. And therefore also the Holy, which shall be born of thee, shall be called the Son of GOD. And Mary said: Behold the handmaid of the Lord; be it done to me according to Thy word._" (St Luke i. 35, 38.) _1st Prelude._ Picture of the Annunciation. _2nd Prelude._ Grace to meditate more deeply on the _First Joyful Mystery_. _Point I._--GABRIEL'S EXPLANATION In answer to Mary's question, the Angel explains quite simply how GOD'S plans are to be brought about. "_The Holy Ghost shall come upon thee._" No prophecy had ever said a word of this; the agency of the Holy Ghost had never been hinted at till the Angel made it known to Mary to quiet her legitimate trouble. And as soon as Mary knew that it was to be the work of the Holy Ghost, she was at rest--all trouble disappeared. Do I follow my Mother's example in this? As soon as I know that whatever is being asked of me is the Holy Spirit's doing, am I at rest? Is there no more trouble, no more indecision, no more questioning, even though the inspiration may seem to be going to upset my plans, and may be contrary to all that has hitherto seemed right? It is not necessary to _understand_ GOD'S dealings with me, but as soon as I know that they are His dealings, it _is_ necessary to co-operate at whatever cost--otherwise there will be trouble in my soul. The co-operation with the work of the Holy Spirit will produce a calm and a peace which no exterior things, however changed they may be, will have the power to disturb. And then the Angel tells her about her cousin Elizabeth and the miraculous things which are happening to her, in order to prove to Mary that "no word is impossible with GOD"--that He, the GOD of nature, has power over nature's laws--that when he makes such promises as she has just heard, "the Holy which shall be born of thee shall be called the Son of GOD," all will be fulfilled. _Point II._--MARY'S SECOND WORD Then Mary speaks again: "Behold the handmaid of the Lord; be it done to me according to Thy word." She gives her consent, shows herself ready to co-operate with GOD; and at the same moment, the Word is made Flesh; Gabriel adores the GOD-Man, as he had pledged himself to do at the time of the War in Heaven, and, his mission accomplished, departs from her. St Bernadine calls this second word: "A flame of _transforming_ love" (_flamma amoris transformantis_). It was certainly _love_ that prompted the word, but in what sense was it a _transforming_ love? (1) _It was a transformation for Mary._ Her first word _separated_ her for Him Who loved her; her second word _transformed_ her into Him Who loved her. It made them for ever one. "Behold the handmaid of the Lord." Here I am for Thee to do whatever Thou wilt with me. I put no obstacle in Thy way. _Fiat._ "Be it done to me according to Thy word." This word was not only the outcome and the proof of her perfect union with GOD, it was also the turning point of her life--and not only of her life but of the life of the whole world. Heaven--and earth too, though unconsciously--was waiting for this word of Mary's, a word which she could have withheld. The word was spoken, and by it she lent herself to GOD as His co-worker; by it she was transformed from a maid into a mother, and in that moment of transformation she saw all that it meant--she saw Calvary, and she said _Fiat_. "Be it done to me." She saw herself transformed into the image of Christ (2 Cor. iii. 18) by pain and suffering, and yet she would not withhold her _Fiat_. Why? Because she _loved_, and from that moment the transforming process was ever going on in her soul; and the flame of transforming love was ever burning more brightly, showing her the way to greater heights and deeper depths of the love of GOD, and so transforming her at each further step, that she shrank from nothing. (2) _It was a transformation for the world._ This word of Mary's, by which she gave her consent to GOD'S plan of Redemption, changed the face of the whole world. It began a new era--A.D. instead of B.C. It settled the moment of the arrival of the "fulness of time" (Gal. iv. 4)--of GOD'S time. As a result of it, GOD was already tabernacling among men. The leaven of the Gospel, which was to leaven the whole world, was already beginning to work. Mary's word produced a transformation in the world, and though it "knew Him not," it was never the same world again. (3) This word is a _transformation for the soul_ which makes it its own. Any soul which really says: "Behold the handmaid of the Lord: be it done to me according to Thy word," is transformed, for it is "made conformable to the image of His Son." (Rom. viii. 29.) Nothing but love has the power to bring about this transformation in the soul, for it means the effacement of self; it means a readiness to do GOD'S will at whatever cost; it means a holy indifference to one's own plans and theories and even judgment--it means what it says: "_Fiat_," for everything that GOD arranges. When this is so there is a complete transformation; the selfish soul becomes selfless; the weak, strong; the timid, courageous; the hesitating, decided; the doubting, confident; the agitated, peaceful and calm. Heaven has already begun in the soul. Love--GOD'S love for it first, and then its love for GOD--has transformed it. Are these great things possible for me? Yes, quite possible. How was Mary transformed? By Christ dwelling within her. How was the world transformed? By Christ dwelling within it. And this is how I am to be transformed, by Christ dwelling within me. Each Communion should be to me a "flame of transforming love." It is then that, in answer to the appeal: "My child, give Me thy heart," I say to Him: "Be it done to me according to Thy word," and He comes to do what He will in my heart; and if only I put no obstacles in His way, His love will transform me into all that He wants me to be. _Colloquy_ with Our Lady, asking her to get me the grace of submission, which alone can transform me. _Resolution._ To do nothing to-day to hinder the transforming process in me. _Spiritual Bouquet._ "Angelus Domini nuntiavit Mariæ et concepit de Spiritu Sancto." Mary's Third Word "_And she entered into the house of Zachary, and saluted Elizabeth._" (St Luke i. 40.) _1st Prelude._ Mary saluting Elizabeth. _2nd Prelude._ The grace of Charity. _Point I._--MARY'S CHARITY When the Angel left her, Mary's thoughts seem to have been fixed, not, as we should have expected, on the part of the heavenly message which concerned herself, but on what had been incidentally revealed to her about her cousin Elizabeth. What a total oblivion of self there is in Mary and what charity! She picks out just the little bit of the message that concerns somebody else, decides that it is not for nothing that she has been told this--it may be that her cousin has need of her; and so, instead of giving herself up to dwelling on the great things that have been said and done to her, she rises up in those days and goes into the hill country, with haste, to pay a visit of charity. And she takes JESUS with her. Mary is my model, and I can surely find some lessons to study here. One is that charity passes before everything, even sometimes before spiritual exercises and contemplation and meditation, going to Mass and Benediction. I see too that though I must be ever mindful of GOD'S benefits, I need not dwell too much--if at all--on the interior graces He has given to my soul; on any words of praise--though they may have come almost directly from Himself; on any piece of work that He has effected through my instrumentality. It is far more wholesome to be rising up to go to the next duty, starting forth into the hill country of difficulties, if need be, and thus taking my thoughts off myself by doing something for somebody else. I shall not, by thus acting, lose any of the graces or any of the sweetness, for I shall take JESUS with me, and together we shall face the difficulties of the next bit of life's journey. _Point II._--MARY'S SALUTATION She _saluted_ Elizabeth. We are not told what this salutation was, but we know that words were spoken, because Elizabeth _heard_ them. "The voice of thy salutation sounded in my ears," she says. It was probably just the form of salutation customary among the Jews: "The Lord is with you!" But what a different meaning the words have on Mary's lips! She, the Mother of the Word Incarnate, has brought Him with her to the house of Zachary. The Lord Himself is indeed there in a way that He has never been before. John the Baptist, yet unborn, understands the salutation, and leaps to adore his GOD; and at that moment JESUS, Whose work on earth has already begun, cleanses His Forerunner from the stain of original sin. Elizabeth also understands in what sense the words are spoken; for the Holy Ghost, Who has been doing great things for her too, has communicated to her the heavenly secret about the Mother and the Child. She is expectant and ready for her Visitors, and when Mary gives her wondrous salutation: "The Lord is with you," filled with the Holy Ghost she answers: "Blessed art thou among women, and blessed is the Fruit of thy womb"; and then she thinks of the great honour which GOD is showing to her home by permitting Mary with her Child to visit it. "Whence is this to me, that the Mother of my Lord should come to me?" Next she tells Mary of the joy that has been caused within her, and adds: "Blessed art thou that hast believed, for all that the Lord hath spoken about the Child will now be accomplished." Thus Mary receives the blessed assurance that all is true--not that she doubted, and not that she needed any confirmation, but it must, nevertheless, have been a comfort to her to hear herself called "The Mother of my Lord," and that by one who had not heard the news from any human lips. It was because Elizabeth was "filled with the Holy Ghost" that she saw all so clearly and believed that Mary was indeed the Mother of GOD. It is a truth which many people in the twentieth century have not yet grasped. The reason is that they have not yet grasped the meaning of the Incarnation. "_Nos cum prole pia benedicat Virgo Maria._" ("May Mary the Virgin bless us with her Holy Child.") _Point III._--MARY'S THIRD WORD St Bernardine describes this third word as a "flame of _communicating_ love" (_flamma amoris communicantis_.) No sooner has Mary become "the Mother of fair love" than she wants to communicate that love to others--not to communicate her secret--no, of that she does not speak--but to let the flame of love, which is burning within her, reach others also. So it is not Mary only, but JESUS within her, Who "makes haste" to go into the "hill country." He is in a hurry to begin His work. It is JESUS, Divine Love, Who enters into the house of Zachary and salutes Elizabeth. It is the Heart of JESUS, burning already with love for sinners, which speaks to the heart of John. It is because GOD, Who for love of us men became incarnate, is communicating that love to her, that Elizabeth is able to grasp so clearly the mysteries by which she is surrounded. Ah, yes, Mary's third word is indeed one of communicating love, because she communicates to all around her, JESUS, Who is love. O Mother of fair love, why do the poor banished children of Eve so continually turn to thee? Is it not just because of this flame of communicating love? Is it not because they know that to go to Mary is to go to JESUS; that when they appeal to the heart of Mary it is the Heart of JESUS which answers through her; that her chief work is to communicate His love to them? Three months Mary abode in Zachary's house, and all that time the flame of communicating love abode there too, burning ever more brightly within her. What a privilege for the house of Zachary! We read in Sacred History that once "the Ark of the Lord abode in the house of Obededom the Gethite for three months; and the Lord blessed Obededom and all his household." (2 Kings vi. 11.) What then must have been the blessings bestowed on Zachary's household, while Mary the "Ark of the Covenant" abode there! "_Foederis arca, ora pro nobis._" Pray that we too may get the blessings of those who receive thee as their constant guest. But Mary is my example. Is there anything in which I can copy her in her visit to her cousin Elizabeth? Let me make a self-examination on a few points suggested by this meditation. Am I in _haste_ to perform acts of charity, especially when the request for them comes at inconvenient moments? Do I always take JESUS with me when I go to visit my friends? Do those whom I visit feel that I create an atmosphere--an atmosphere which makes them more ready to bless JESUS and Mary? These things can only be so by my having a flame of communicating love within me. Where can I get it? At each communion, when JESUS comes to me in the Sacrament of His Love. And if I put no hindrance in His way, He will communicate Himself to others through me. Let me, then, aim at being a Christ-bearer. "Glorify and bear Christ in your body." (1 Cor. vi. 20.) It is often through His children that JESUS does His work in the world, and communicates His love to others. _Colloquy_ with our Lady. _Resolution._ To be a Christ-bearer to all whom I greet, remembering that even a little act of politeness may turn the scale in the conversion of a soul. A visit paid, a word dropped in conversation, may be a necessary part of GOD'S plans. _Spiritual Bouquet._ "Flamma amoris communicantis." Mary's Fourth Word _And Mary said: "My soul doth magnify the Lord."_ _1st Prelude._ Mary saying the _Magnificat_. _2nd Prelude._ Grace to catch something of the spirit in which she said it. _Point I._--THE MAGNIFICAT As soon as Elizabeth has finished "crying out with a loud voice" her praise of Mary and of JESUS, and of the benefits GOD has wrought for herself and her son, Mary speaks, and in the longest of her recorded "words" gives vent to the thoughts pent up in her breast. She at once closes the door against any praise given to herself: "My soul doth magnify the _Lord_"--He it is Whom we must praise and make much of--"and my spirit hath rejoiced in GOD my Saviour." Mary understands what it is that is making her so full of joy. It is the presence of JESUS her _Saviour_. She has Him within her, Who has saved her from the stain of original sin, and Who will save her each moment that she lives from actual sin. Well may her spirit rejoice! She goes on to explain more fully the cause of her joy and exultation. It is because GOD has done such great things for her. He has regarded the humility of His handmaid. The word used means _humiliation_ rather than humility. Mary is too humble to speak of her humility. She is referring rather to her humble circumstances, her low estate. The same word is translated in St James i. 9 as "low condition." He whose name is Holy has regarded _me_! And His mercy is not only for me, but for all that fear Him. It is because of the great things He has done to me that "all generations shall call me blessed." Mary passes on all the praise and honour to GOD. She speaks of herself only to recall her low estate--only to let her littleness magnify GOD'S greatness in the eyes of others--only that in calling her blessed they may be lifted up to "the GOD and Father of our Lord JESUS Christ, Who is blessed for ever." (2 Cor. xi. 31.) Gabriel stands at the head of "all generations." When he was delivering GOD'S message he called her blessed. Elizabeth, inspired by the Holy Ghost, did the same. And yet there are those to-day (and their name is legion!) who think it would defile their lips to speak of the _Blessed_ Virgin Mary! Can it be that they do not believe that GOD did great things for her? Can it be that they _prefer_ to be among the proud whom He scatters in the conceit of their heart, among the mighty whom He puts down from their seat, among the rich whom He sends away empty? Can it be that they refuse to listen to the inspiration of the Holy Spirit Who tells them that Mary is blessed among women? And yet they sing the _Magnificat_, which tells them how ready GOD is to "exalt the humble" and to "fill the hungry with good things." O Blessed Virgin Mary, Mother of GOD, pray for all those who honour thee by singing thy _Magnificat_, that they may honour thee also by understanding it. Grant that they too may fulfil thy prophecy--"All generations shall call me blessed"--and get in return the blessings thou art so ready to bestow on thy children. Before I go on, let me ask myself to what extent I am copying my Mother in at once passing on to GOD all praise that may come to me? He it is Who does all for me, and in me, and by me; and the more He gives, the more He ought to get. He knew it would be so with Mary, and therefore He could trust her with "great things." He knew that He would have all the glory. Let me see how much I take into account GOD'S glory. Is it my first motive and object? If He gives me some little thing--for example, an "original" thought, a happy idea, a solution to a problem, some word to help another--is my first thought to thank Him and to praise Him because this will bring glory to Him? Is it not rather to go and tell it to someone else--to quote my words and deeds--not with the object of edifying others (Satan, to quiet my conscience, tells me that this is the reason), but of gaining glory and praise for myself out of something that is not mine at all? Thus do I rob GOD of His glory, deliberately taking for myself what belongs to Him! Oh, my Mother, teach thy child what real humility means, and that _all_ praise belongs of right to GOD. _Point II._--A FLAME OF JOYFUL LOVE This is the name that St Bernardine gives to Mary's fourth word--"_Flamma amoris jubilantis_." Her love for GOD was so strong that it made her burst out into this joyful song of praise. She could no longer keep to herself all that GOD had done to her; she must tell others; she was so full of joy that she must sing GOD'S praises. And all her love and joy found expression in the _Magnificat_--a song of thanksgiving for the Incarnation--a song which showed clearly that Mary's joy was caused by the glory that was given to GOD by the Incarnation. All through those blessed three months during which Mary abode with Zachary and Elizabeth, she was singing _Magnificat_. All through her life she sang _Magnificat_, even though she was the Mother of Sorrows, for the thought of GOD'S glory ever lifted her out of herself and made her praise Him for all He did. It was because Mary had said her _Fiat_ that she could say her _Magnificat_. What do I know of this flame of joyful love? If it is caused by the great things GOD has done, surely it ought to be burning in me. Surely He has done enough for me to make my love so great that it is a flame of _joy_ within me. Is it so? Does the joy that is in my heart show itself in my countenance, in my manner, in my actions, and sometimes perhaps in my words? Does my happiness, even in the midst of trial, make others understand what great things GOD _can_ do for those who love Him? If so, I am praising Him and obtaining praise and glory for Him. Oh, my Mother, look upon thy child, so often discontented, sad, distrustful, murmuring, and obtain for me "the oil of joy for mourning, and a garment of praise for the spirit of grief." (Isaias lxi. 3.) Teach me to say my _Fiat_ for everything, and out of it will spring a joyful _Magnificat_. Teach me to love GOD'S will, and to praise Him for all He does. _Colloquy_ with Our Lady. _Resolution._ To let others see my joy to-day. _Spiritual Bouquet._ "Our Lady sings _Magnificat_ in songs surpassing sweet." Mary's Silence "_Mary abode with Elizabeth about three months, and she returned to her own house._" (St Luke i. 56.) _1st Prelude._ A statue of Our Lady. _2nd Prelude._ Grace to leave all that concerns me in GOD'S Hands. _Point I._--MARY'S RETURN We know nothing of what went on during those three months, but we may presume that things continued as they began. It is not likely that Elizabeth said her "_Ave_" only once, and only once spoke of the honour she considered it to have the Mother of GOD in her house. It is not likely that the unborn Forerunner never again saluted His Master, in Whose presence he so continually was. It is impossible to conceive that Mary sang GOD'S praises and her own unworthiness no more during those three months. And what about JESUS? These were the first three months of His life on earth, and grace was surely going out from Him to His Blessed Mother first, and then to all who knew the secret. And we must not forget the head of the household, Zachary. He, at any rate after the birth of his son, knew the secret too, for he spoke in his song of praise of the "_Orient_ from on High (which) hath visited us." (St Luke i. 78.) "Dumb" he had been and "unable to speak," but Mary with her Son had been sojourning in his house, with the result that his doubts had all disappeared, and that he understood already something of the "joy and gladness" which Gabriel had promised should be his (verse 14), and understood also how it came to pass that his son was "filled with the Holy Ghost, even from his mother's womb." (verse 15.) But the time comes when Mary has to leave this highly favoured household and go home. Her work of charity is over. Elizabeth no longer needs her, and her thoughts turn to Joseph, her husband, and to Nazareth--to the spot where Gabriel had visited her, and where the Holy Ghost had wrought such great things in her. _Point II._--MARY'S SILENCE TO ST JOSEPH When last we thought about St Joseph, he was abandoning himself to a life of self-sacrifice by his vow of virginity. Since then he has made the sacrifice of sparing Mary from their little home to go and do an act of charity for her kinswoman, and now that that is over, it is probably Joseph himself who goes to fetch her home again. Of the visit of the Archangel to his wife Joseph knows nothing, and Mary keeps the secret locked within her heart. She has not revealed it to anyone. (It was the Holy Ghost who told Elizabeth, and JESUS Himself who saluted John.) But trouble is in store for those two faithful souls. This is natural. It would be strange if GOD did not take us at our word when we make the sacrifice of ourselves to Him! It would look as if He did not believe us. "Mary was found with child of the Holy Ghost. Whereupon Joseph her husband, being a just man and not willing publicly to expose her, was minded to put her away privately." (St Matt. i. 18, 19.) How much is told in those few simple words! What anguish of soul do they cover! How could Joseph bear to have suspicions of his wife, whom he considered to be purity itself, and whom he loved so tenderly? And yet he was forced to suspect, and as a just man was obliged to keep the law--namely, write a bill of divorce, give it in her hand, and send her out of his house. (Deut. xxiv. 1.) He made up his mind to do this as _privately_ as possible, shielding her secret from everyone except the two witnesses who were necessary for the bill of divorce. How nobly Joseph acted! He was ready, for the sake of right, to sacrifice what was most dear to him, to crush at one blow his most cherished affections! No wonder the Holy Spirit calls him a just man! No wonder that he was the one in all the world whom GOD could trust to co-operate with Himself! And if Joseph suffered, how much more did Mary in seeing him thus troubled, and knowing that she was the cause of his distress. One word from her would have been sufficient to clear away all the difficulties--and it almost seemed as if it would be for the glory of GOD to say the word--at any rate it would have justified her, put an end to Joseph's trouble, and saved her from suspicion, and even perhaps shame and humiliation. But Mary has made her sacrifice--has said her _Fiat_--and this is her first great trial, caused entirely by the fact of her nearness to JESUS, and of the union between her life and His. And so she does not say the word--she does not take back her sacrifice, but meets it generously. It is not for her to publish GOD'S secrets. His dealings with her are for herself, and are not to be shared even with one as dear to her as is St Joseph, unless GOD bids her. Mary is silent and abandons herself and her trouble and all that concerns her to GOD. And this is GOD'S moment--when the need is at its height, when both His children have proved their fidelity, and their readiness to abandon themselves to Him and His Will, cost what it may. In his sleep an Angel appears to Joseph and reveals the secret to him, and his sorrow is changed to an unspeakable joy. If I am striving to tread the way trodden by Mary and the Saints, I shall do well to let self-justification alone. I am not likely to be put to as great a test as were Mary and Joseph, but there are sure to be many little occasions in my life when it is left to my choice either to clear myself of suspicion or to leave the matter in GOD'S Hands, and out of love to Him keep silence, and thus sacrifice a little of my self-love. It is a difficult question, perhaps, when to keep silence and when to speak; but at any rate I need not be in such a hurry to excuse myself and shield myself from blame as I generally am. Nothing will be lost by _waiting_. Mary and Joseph _waited_, with the result that GOD Himself cleared things up for them and brought them consolation. If Joseph had questioned Mary, or if Mary had allayed Joseph's suspicions, both would have acted in a most natural way; but GOD would not have been glorified, and they would have missed the consolation which He reserves for those who are generous in their sacrifices to Him. _Colloquy_ with Mary. _Resolution._ To be silent the next time fault is found with me. _Spiritual Bouquet._ "Fear not, Joseph." Mary's Expectation "_His left hand is under my head, and His right hand shall embrace me._" (Cant. ii. 6.) "_My Beloved to me and I to Him._" (verse 16.) _1st Prelude._ Mary and Joseph waiting. _2nd Prelude._ Grace to believe that GOD'S plans are the best. _Point I._--AT NAZARETH We should like to penetrate into those remaining six months, which Mary and Joseph spent together, before the birth of the Holy Child. Scripture is silent about them, but it is not difficult for a sanctified imagination to picture something of what was taking place. Perhaps the thought of the Altar of Repose on Maundy Thursday will bring the realities home to us better than anything else could. Though He is hidden from our sight, all know that He is there. Angels are in constant adoration, and the faithful do not forget Him. All try to get near and to hold silent communion with Him; and all are expecting the great day when He will rise again and show Himself to them. And He is spending the time in giving His blessing and His grace to all who, by faith, seek Him. The house at Nazareth was in very deed GOD'S Sanctuary, containing the Altar of Repose, where the Saviour of the world was resting. Angels were in constant adoration before their King. The faithful consisted of Mary and Joseph, whose thought and conversation could be about nothing else but the Child Who was coming into the world. And who shall measure the graces and blessings, which that Child was showering upon Mary and her faithful spouse, during those months of waiting and prayer and holy converse, while they planned and arranged with such care and minuteness, as parents are wont to do, every detail connected with the birth of the firstborn? But man proposes and GOD disposes. GOD, Who "ordereth all things sweetly," (Wisdom viii. 1), was stirring up the whole civilised world so that the Scripture might be fulfilled which said: "And thou, _Bethlehem_ Ephrata, ... out of _thee_ shall He come forth to me, that is to be the Ruler in Israel; and His going forth is from the beginning, from the days of eternity." (Micheas v. 2.) It was in _Bethlehem_--not at _Nazareth_, that the Child was to be born. And to effect this, "in those days there went out a decree from Cæsar Augustus, that the whole world should be enrolled.... And all went to be enrolled, every one into his own city. And Joseph also went ... out of the city of Nazareth ... to the city of David, which is called Bethlehem (because he was of the house and family of David), to be enrolled with Mary his espoused wife." (St Luke ii. 1-5.) What a trial this order must have been to Mary! To leave home, to forego all her plans, to take a long journey, to interrupt her days of solitude and calm and peace--and all at the bidding of a heathen Emperor. But Mary knew how to take her trials. _Fiat mihi secundum verbum tuum._ "Be it done to me according to Thy word." For her there were no second causes. It was ever GOD Who was ordering "all things sweetly" for her, and she had nothing to say but "_Ecce ancilla--fiat_." She waited for nothing but GOD'S will. And as _He_ arranged it, she could spend her time of waiting just as well on the public highway to Bethlehem as in the seclusion of Nazareth. Oh, my Mother, teach me this lesson too: if I could only learn it, how different my life would be! My life--every detail of it--is in GOD'S Hands. He is "ordering it sweetly," and I _complain_! How little is my faith! When my faith is great enough, I shall take all things, as sweetly as GOD orders them, even though they may upset my most cherished plans. _Point II._--ON THE WAY TO BETHLEHEM And so, in obedience to the command, Mary and Joseph leave the calm and quiet and solitude of their little home, and go to face poverty and difficulties and the unknown. But JESUS is with them, and this makes them independent of exterior circumstances--their calm and quiet are unbroken, and they can find solitude even in the busy thoroughfares. Mary is communing with her Child, and is peaceful with the peace He gives. Joy, too, fills her heart as she thinks how fast the time is approaching when she will see His face. Oh, how I should love to be allowed to go with them on this journey! At my request, Mary readily consents to take me as her servant, and I am so glad to be in that blessed company that I forego everything else--I know that the Family I have come to live with is _poor_, and I am determined not to ask them to get any special things for _me_. The table has the barest necessities--perhaps hardly these, for true poverty consists in the want of necessities; but it is the company that I care about, and nothing else matters. I can see that all sorts of inconveniences and privations and hardships will be mine, but I cannot be an exception in that Family; and somehow, now that I am so close to the Blessed Mother, I do not wish to be. My great desire is to be like her, and to share all with her and her Son. At Bethlehem Joseph begins his weary and anxious search for a lodging; but all in vain--no one wants the Holy Family. How Joseph suffers at each refusal--not for himself but for Mary! Mary is too much taken up with her joy to heed the suffering. And the servant--does she regret that she is not in one of the big hotels, as she might have been, or does she turn with joy to follow the Holy Family to the cave, saying: With JESUS and Mary I have all I want, and I love every hardship and every privation which comes to me, because I have made myself one with them? Oh, my Mother, I thank thee for allowing me to be thy servant; I thank thee for bringing me into such close contact with thy Son; I thank thee for every privation, every difficulty, every hardship, every inconvenience, every crossing of my own will which has come to me, because I chose to be in thy company and in that of thy Son. Help me to persevere bravely, thinking all worth while for the sake of the company. _Colloquy_ with Mary, asking her to get me grace to be always joyous, because I am living my life with her and her Blessed Son. _Resolution._ To show myself worthy of the company I am in, by the way I face the little difficulties of my everyday life. _Spiritual Bouquet._ "I am Thy servant and the son of Thy handmaid." (Ps. cxv. 16.) The Stable "_Mary kept all these words, pondering them in her heart._" (St Luke ii. 19.) _1st Prelude._ Mary and Joseph, and the Infant lying in the manger. _2nd Prelude._ Grace to ponder with Mary _Point I._--THE BIRTH OF HER SON "She brought forth her firstborn Son, and wrapped Him up in swaddling clothes and laid Him in a manger." She has seen His face at last; she has folded Him in her arms and pressed Him to her bosom--her Son and her GOD. And she ponders--she meditates--she cannot tell her thoughts to any human soul--but she can tell them to her Son. _Dico ego opera mea Regi._ I will speak of my works to the King. (Ps. xliv. 2.) Many works had been wrought in and through Mary by the Holy Ghost, but they were all the King's secrets, and she pondered over them, speaking of them to Him alone. There was her vow of virginity, which she did not even speak of to her parents; there was the visit of the King's messenger, of which she spoke to no one--not to Elizabeth, nor even to St Joseph; there was the painful journey to Bethlehem, and the difficulty about finding a lodging. She might have told St Luke all about it, and had it all written down in the Gospel--but no, there is not a word except the mere fact that they went to Bethlehem, and that there was no room for them in the inn. Her sufferings were those of the King, and she shared them with Him alone. And now that she has got her JESUS, she spends her time in pondering--in telling Him her thoughts and her secrets, which are His too. How much I should gain if I could be a little more like my Mother in this!--if, instead of being so ready to go and talk of all the things that have been said and done to me, or of what I have said or done, or of what I have had to suffer, I were just to speak to my King about it--let it be something between us which nobody else knows anything about. It may often be my duty to speak, as it was Mary's later on, when she was obliged, for example, to tell St Luke all about the Angel's visit and what he said to her, because GOD wanted that piece of revelation to be written. But this was later. She did not go at once and tell Elizabeth all about it. Let us learn from Mary to let our _first_ words, at any rate, be for our King; and, if this is so, it is probable that in many cases the matter will go no further, and others as well as ourselves will be saved from the miseries which so often follow from our being too ready to talk. _Dico ego opera mea Regi._ To _Him_ I can never say too much, and He loves those silent heart-to-heart colloquies. He loves the things which are talked over with Him only--the King's secrets. _Point II._--THE SHEPHERDS "They came with haste, and they found Mary and Joseph, and the Infant lying in a manger." And during their visit they "understood," and went away to tell the good news to wondering listeners, leaving Mary still pondering. Each moment of her Son's life on earth brings her fresh matter for meditation. She has scarcely time to think of the miraculous birth before she hears "a multitude of the Heavenly Army" proclaiming the birth, praising GOD, and telling of the glory that is being given to Him, and of the peace that is being brought to earth. And Mary realises that she no longer has her Babe all to herself, that Heaven and earth claim Him. Then the Shepherds arrive; and after they have adored the Saviour Who is born to them, they tell His Mother of all the wonders of that night: of the Angel of the Lord who suddenly stood by them in the night watches; of the "brightness of GOD"; of how they feared; of how the Angel bid them: "Fear not"; of the good tidings that he brought, and of the great joy which was to be for everyone; that the Angel had actually told them that the Child was the Messias, and that he had given them the strangest sign by which they could know Him--He will be wrapped in swaddling clothes, and lying in a manger! And lastly, how they had come in haste, as soon as the Angels had gone back to Heaven, and had found it all to be true. What joy this beautiful, simple, story must have brought to the Mother's heart! What fresh subjects for meditation now were hers! What a tender welcome she would give to these simple shepherds, whom GOD had picked out for such signal favours, and had allowed to be the first worshippers of her Son! How she would realise all the "great things" that GOD was doing now that she heard them from the mouths of these "little ones" to whom GOD had revealed them! (St Matt. xi. 25.) How graciously she would accept the poor offerings of these poor men to her Child Who had chosen to be poor! And how proud she would be that she, as His Mother, had the right to lift that little Hand, to convey the blessing which His Heart was giving to those who were going to be His first witnesses and apostles. "Mary kept all these words, pondering them in her heart." How easy meditation was to Mary! Why? Because she lived always in the closest possible union with JESUS. If I find my meditations difficult, let me examine myself, and see whether the cause may not be that my union with Him is not so close as it was, that I have let something come between us, that I am not telling all my secrets to the King. If this is so, let me hasten to put things right with Him; and then I shall find again that my most precious moments are those in which I can devote my thoughts entirely to my King and ponder over the simple stories told of Him and His Blessed Mother. _Colloquy._ _The Alma Redemptoris Mater_:--"Sweet Mother of our Redeemer, gate whereby we enter Heaven, and star of the sea, help us, we fall; yet do we long to rise. Nature looked upon thee with admiration when thou didst give birth to thy Divine Creator, thyself remaining before and after it a pure Virgin. Gabriel spoke his _Hail_ to thee; we sinners crave thy pity." (_Anthem from Advent to the Purification._) _Resolution._ To ponder more and speak less. _Spiritual Bouquet._ "Dico ego opera mea Regi." The Circumcision of Mary's Son "_And after eight days were accomplished that the child should be circumcised, His name was called JESUS, which was called by the Angel before He was conceived._" (St Luke ii. 21.) _1st Prelude._ Mary with her Child. _2nd Prelude._ Grace to learn more about them both. _Point I._--THE CIRCUMCISION After one week of peace and joy, Mary is called upon to suffer with, and on account of, her Son. The Law of GOD is clear. "On the eighth day, the infant shall be circumcised." (Lev. xii. 3.) And there is no doubt in the minds of Mary and Joseph, that, though the Holy Child has no need of the rite which probably cleansed away original sin, He must nevertheless submit to it, as being part of His Father's law, every jot and tittle of which He has come to fulfil. So JESUS, of His own free will, classes Himself with sinners, and offers to GOD the firstfruits of that Blood which He will shed for them on Calvary. The Circumcision of her Son means much to Mary; she sees Him suffer; she hears His cry of pain; she sees the Blood flow; and she understands that to be the Mother of GOD means being the _Mater Dolorosa_; and now she has fresh matter for her Meditations. Her Son is to be the Victim for sin, and she unites her sacrifice to His. The rite of Circumcision was to the Jew a sign of the Covenant that GOD had made with his nation--it marked him out as one of GOD'S own people; it was a mark of his dependence on GOD, and also of his slavery to sin till GOD set him free. "Circumcision is that of the heart," St Paul tells us, "in the spirit, not in the letter; whose praise is not of men, but of GOD." (Rom. ii. 29.) By assisting with Mary at the Circumcision of her Son, I mean that I want to understand something of this circumcision of the _heart_--understand, that is, that GOD has made a covenant with me, that I belong to Him, and am dependent on Him; I mean that I am ready with the knife of mortification to cut away all that prevents me from being a good servant, ready to "resist unto blood," if need be, but, at any rate, ready to make myself a victim with JESUS, as Mary did, willing to suffer anything which He calls upon me to suffer. _Point II._--HIS NAME--JESUS His Name was chosen by His Heavenly Father, and revealed both to Mary and Joseph before His birth--to Mary by the Angel Gabriel at the Annunciation, and to Joseph by the Angel who was sent to allay his suspicions about his wife. JESUS--the "name which is above every name"! GOD gave it Him because "He humbled Himself, becoming obedient unto death--even the death of the cross." (Phil. ii. 8.) He earned His Name by the Cross, and it was given Him at the moment when He shed the first drops of His Precious Blood. He could have allowed this first shedding of His Blood to redeem the world, had He so willed. He could have made it the _redeeming_ Blood, but it was not yet His Will; His time had not yet come; He wished to live and to suffer long years on earth before He shed the Blood which He intended to be efficacious for the Redemption of the world. "Thou shalt call His Name JESUS, for He shall save His people from their sins." (St Matt. i. 21.) And when at length He did shed His redeeming Blood on Calvary, there was a title nailed to the Cross, proclaiming His Name to all: "This is JESUS," the Saviour. He is saving His people from their sins. It cost Him much to be the Saviour, and it cost Mary much to be the Mother of the Saviour; but both cheerfully made the sacrifice in advance--both entered into GOD'S plan for my salvation. JESUS had come to do His Father's will--He was content to do it--and His Mother was content to be identified in everything with her Son, and to say her _Fiat_. If my salvation cost JESUS and Mary so much, ought it not to cost me something too? Would it be fair if all were easy and smooth for me? Surely not. Surely, if I have a part in the Saviour, I ought to have a part in His Cross. Let the thought of the Holy Babe shedding His first drops of Blood on His Mother's knee brace me up to meet suffering, of whatever kind GOD chooses for me; let it hush my murmurs and my discontent; let it make me not only willing but anxious to suffer, and thus to have an opportunity of being like Him, Who was in such a hurry to shed His Blood, that it seemed as though it were too long for Him to wait till Calvary. He must make the sacrifice in advance, and offer at any rate the firstfruits of His Blood to His Father. _Colloquy_ with Mary, who is identifying herself with the sufferings, intentions, and desires of her Son. Teach me, my Mother, not only to expect but to appreciate suffering. How can I be like JESUS, and a child of thine without it? I want to look upon it always as a sign of love, as a sign that I am recognised as one of the Holy Family. _Resolution._ To understand that my very existence on earth means suffering, and that my identification with JESUS and Mary means suffering willingly and cheerfully. _Spiritual Bouquet._ "I come to do Thy Will, O my GOD." Her Purification "_They carried Him to Jerusalem to present Him to the Lord._" _1st Prelude._ JESUS, Mary, and Joseph going to the Temple. _2nd Prelude._ Grace to go too, and learn the lessons. _Point I._--MARY'S PURIFICATION It is the fortieth day after the birth of her Son, the day when it is Mary's turn to keep the legal observances, and so to identify herself in all things with her Son. There is no need for her to be purified, before she is allowed to enter GOD'S Temple; neither is there any need for her to present her Firstborn in the Temple and pay the ransom money for Him, for His Name is Saviour and He is Himself the Ransom for His people. There is no _need_; but Mary gladly does both, that she may enter more closely into the spirit of her Son, Who had undergone the rite of circumcision. How many unnecessary humiliations and unpleasant duties do I undertake just for the sake of identifying myself with JESUS and Mary, and sharing their spirit? We may imagine the Holy Family quietly setting out for their two hours' walk to the Temple, attracting no more notice than was usually attached to an event so common. Passing remarks were probably made as to its being the first time she was out; as to the disparity in their age; as to their poverty, for Joseph was carrying two doves, the offering of the poor, to be offered by Mary for her Purification. Ah, how little the world sees! Extraordinary things are going on, though they are hidden, as is ever GOD'S wont, under things most ordinary. Mary, the purest of creatures, the Virgin of virgins, the Queen of Heaven, of Angels and of men, is bearing in her arms the Lord of glory, Who is on His way to visit His Temple for the first time, and thus to fill it with a greater glory than ever Solomon's Temple had possessed. Angels are worshipping and adoring at every step of that journey, and presently they will throw open wide the gate of the Temple to let the King of Glory in. And the humble and silent Joseph is playing a part which no Jew before or since has ever played; for though the verdict of the world is that he is too poor to afford to take a lamb, in reality he is too rich to need one, for is he not bringing to the Temple the Lamb of GOD--an offering which no one has ever been rich enough to make before? Let us try to see things and judge them from GOD'S point of view--not from the world's. _Point II._--THE PRESENTATION OF HER SON This involved three sacrifices. (1) The sacrifice made by JESUS. _Ecce Venio._ "Lo, I come to do Thy will, O my GOD." He has come to the Temple to offer Himself as a sweet-smelling sacrifice to His Father. This is the morning sacrifice--the evening sacrifice will be on Calvary. This is like the _Offertory_ at Mass, when the Priest offers to GOD the Bread and Wine which He will use presently to accomplish the sacrifice at the Consecration. He is the "Firstborn amongst many brethren," (Rom. viii. 29), that is why He must be presented in the Temple. He is our Elder Brother. He represents us all, and answers to GOD for all those who are united to Him. He offers Himself as a Ransom that all the rest of the family may go free. Am I prepared to ratify this offering that my Elder Brother made in my name? Have I any right to claim the privileges? Yes, if I am united with Him, identified with Him; if I am saying as He did: "Behold, I come to do Thy Will," and this in the little sacrifices of my everyday life. (2) The sacrifice made by Mary. _Ecce ancilla._ "Behold the handmaid of the Lord." Mary knows perfectly well what she is doing when she puts her JESUS into the arms of the Priest. She knows that she is offering to GOD the firstfruits--the earnest of what is to come; and she makes her sacrifice whole-heartedly, zealously, lovingly. She said her _Fiat_ at the Incarnation, and she will never take it back. She is His Mother--it is with Blood drawn from her veins that He will one day redeem the world; and she offers to GOD now, not only the Victim Who is to be the Redeemer, but herself as a co-victim--herself to suffer with Him. "Behold the Handmaid of the Lord"--ready to give Him all that He requires. How perfectly Mary identifies herself with JESUS! It is her intense love which enables her to copy so exactly. (3) The sacrifice made by Joseph. _Ecce adsum._ "Behold, I am here too, ready for any sacrifice." Joseph is so closely connected with JESUS and Mary that he must share their spirit and do what they do. But his sacrifice is made in the dark, as ours are for the most part. He does not know what JESUS and Mary are doing. He cannot gauge the extent of their sacrifices--enough for him to unite his intention with theirs, and to offer with perfect detachment his two treasures to GOD, begging Him to use them as He will. Am I ready to make my sacrifice--even a blind one--ready to say: _Ecce adsum_--"Behold, here I am"--and to trust where I cannot understand? _Point III._--THE FIRST DOLOUR The sacrifice was no sooner made than GOD took Mary at her word. Simeon, holding "the Christ of the Lord" in his arms, called Him "the _salvation_ which Thou hast prepared; a light to the revelation of the Gentiles and the glory of Thy people Israel." And while His father and mother were wondering at these things which were spoken concerning Him, Simeon addressed himself to "Mary His Mother," and spoke in no hidden language of the Passion; and the sword pierced her soul, for though she knew it all, it was the first time she had heard it from the lips of another. It was the first of the _Seven Dolours_. She heard that her Child was to be:-- 1. "... _for the fall of many_": that is, the _ruin_ of many. What a lifelong sorrow for the heart of Mary to know that for many her Son's Passion would be in vain--that He was to be the "touchstone," with the result that, in many cases, He would be "rejected of men"! 2. "... _for a sign which shall be contradicted_." War was to be waged against Him in all places, and that to the end of time. This was the treatment He, Who had come to be the Saviour and the Light of the World, was to receive. And then Simeon added: "_Thy own soul a sword shall pierce_." He identified Mary with her Son, and spoke not only of His Passion but of her Compassion. The Queen of Sorrows was now on her throne; there was no longer any doubt about it. GOD had accepted her sacrifice. JESUS was the Victim, and she was His Mother--the Mater Dolorosa. But Simeon's prophecy was not the last word that Mary was to hear before she left the Temple courts, which she loved so well. GOD, Who in His love had permitted the wound, had provided also some balm to be poured into it. A little act of courtesy was waiting for Mary to do before she was free to ponder over all that had happened in the Temple, and especially over the new revelation which had stabbed her to the quick. Well did old Anna, the Prophetess, know the maiden whose happy childhood had been spent in the Temple! How gladly Mary went up to her and renewed her friendship with her! How proud she was to show her little Son to her! Mary was wondering how much Anna knew; but she did not speak, she revealed nothing. Soon she found out that the holy old woman had been rewarded for her fasting and prayers and vigils, by a special revelation, in consequence of which she "confessed to the Lord and spoke of Him to all that looked for the redemption of Israel." And Mary heard, and balm was poured into that first sword-wound. Can I, sweet Mother of Sorrows, pour balm into that terrible wound? I cannot bear to think of thee going home, pressing thy Babe against thy aching heart. Let me accompany thee; I will keep close to thee, and I will speak continually of thy Child. Never will I speak against Him--to me, at least, He shall not be a contradiction, but a resurrection from all from which He has come to save me. _Colloquy_ with Mary, about the _Fourth Joyful Mystery_, and the _First Dolour_. _Resolution._ To throw in my lot with JESUS and Mary. _Spiritual Bouquet._ "Ecce adsum." Wise Men and Babes "_Thy heart shall wonder and be enlarged when the strength of the Gentiles shall come to Thee._" (Isaias lx. 5.) _1st Prelude._ A picture of the Wise Men. _2nd Prelude._ Grace to understand that nearness to JESUS and Mary means the Cross. _Point I._--THE WISE MEN Mary had much to meditate about as she turned her steps homewards to Bethlehem. She knew, for the Angels had said so at His birth, that her Son was to be the Saviour for "all the people"; but Simeon in his song of praise had gone further, and said that He was to be for "all peoples," emphasising the fact that He was to be "a light to the revelation of the _Gentiles_." And so the subjects to ponder over were ever increasing, and Mary's heart was ever enlarging. She had now to pray for the great world outside, as well as for GOD'S chosen people. Thus was her heart being prepared to receive the next worshippers at the shrine of the Infant GOD, and it may be that when they arrived--perhaps soon after the first anniversary of her Son's birth--it was no surprise to her that they were _Gentiles_. "Gentiles shall walk in Thy light, and kings in the brightness of Thy rising; they shall come from afar, bringing gold and frankincense and showing forth praise to the Lord." (Isaias lx. 3-6.) All this was fulfilled in the little house at Bethlehem. The Wise Men, firstfruits of the Gentile world, had had faith enough to overcome every obstacle, and during their journey of, perhaps, some months, had had but one idea--namely, to follow the star which GOD had put in the heavens for them, and by its means to find the new King, Who was to be their Saviour. Mary's prayers had no doubt helped them to make light of their many difficulties, and when their star had brought them right to the house which they sought, "they entered in and found the Child with Mary, His Mother." They were quite at home at once; their faith was so strong, that the unexpected surroundings and the poverty did not strike them as incongruous. They had found what they sought, and their joy and satisfaction were complete. As soon as they were in the Real Presence their conversion was an accomplished fact. Mary showed them her Child, "and falling down they adored Him." It was to _Mary_ that they offered their gifts out of gratitude for all that the Holy Child, to Whom they felt that they now belonged, had done for them. It was _Mary_ whom they thanked for her gracious hospitality. It was _Mary_ who guided the little Hand to bless them ere they took their departure. It was to _Mary_ that they explained that from henceforth their lives would be devoted to the service of the new King and the spreading of His kingdom among the Gentiles. It was _Mary_, the Mother of the Way, who bade them Godspeed on their journey. How interested she was in those first great converts from the Gentiles! How their visit widened her outlook, and enlarged her maternal heart! She is not less interested now in converts than she was then. She has been praying for them ever since. "Mary's prayers shall bring them back." Let us remember this when we are dealing with them; we are not working alone. Mary, the great advocate, is pleading with Her Son. Let us bring them, as often as we can, into the Real Presence--they may be all unconscious, but _He_ is not. He will act upon them. Virtue will go out of Him to them: they will not go empty away, for it is impossible for them to be under the direct rays of His Presence without being influenced. _Point II._--THE BABY MARTYRS Their visit over, the three Kings took leave of the Holy Child and His Mother, and, warned by GOD not to go and give their good news to Herod, they returned to their country by another way. This so exasperated Herod that he gave an order which plunged not only Bethlehem but all the neighbourhood into the most profound grief and desolation. How the heart of Mary went out in sympathy to the bereaved mothers! How big her heart felt as it dilated to take them all in! She understood now what it meant to be the Mother of Sorrows, and that only by having this title could she have the other--_Consolatrix afflictorum_ (Consoler of the afflicted). How quickly Simeon's prophecy was being fulfilled! Her Son was already a sign being contradicted, in those Hebrew mothers and their innocent babes. Each mother was sacrificing her babe that Mary might not have to sacrifice hers. Each babe was giving its life to save the life of JESUS. Their sufferings were all because of JESUS and Mary. How the sword pierced Mary's heart as she heard the bitter cries of mothers and children! "Poor banished children of Eve," born to sorrow and trouble! But from henceforth their cause will be espoused by a "most gracious Advocate," who will take a special interest in all troubles and sufferings that come to her children on account of the sacrifices that they make for her Son, or which are caused by their nearness to Him. At that moment of anguish the Jewish mothers _were_ making a sacrifice, though it was an unwilling one and made in ignorance. GOD, in His mercy, rewards even such. Had their children lived, they might have been among the murderers of JESUS; now they are saved from all sin, they escape Purgatory, and, the first to give their lives for Him, they will follow the Lamb for ever. Happy little Innocents! Happy those who have the honour to be their mothers! Happy all those who make the least sacrifice for Him! And happy, thrice happy, the Queen of Martyrs, who is now entering into the possession of her new kingdom! The more closely I am identified with JESUS and Mary, the more I must expect suffering. The training for the kingdom is the same, whether for Wise Men or Babes. The Wise Men learnt from the child on Mary's knee to view suffering in a new light, and they went back to their country prepared to sacrifice all for the Child and His Mother, shrinking from nothing till they laid down their lives for Him Whose star they had so diligently followed. So Simeon's sword is piercing; the Cross is already showing that the followers of the Babe are to be victims too--all is getting clearer and clearer to Mary, and as she wonders her heart is enlarged. _Colloquy_ with Mary. _Resolution._ To follow the generosity of the Wise Men and the Babes. _Spiritual Bouquet._ "Mater Dolorosa, Consolatrix afflictorum, Regina Martyrum, ora pro nobis." Egypt "_That it might be fulfilled which the Lord spake by the prophet, saying: Out of Egypt have I called My Son._" (St Matt. ii. 15.) _1st Prelude._ Picture of JESUS, Mary, and Joseph. _2nd Prelude._ Grace to believe that no circumstances in which GOD has placed me can hinder my spiritual life. _Point I._--THE FLIGHT INTO EGYPT Only one child escaped the cruel sword of Herod, and that one was Mary's Son. He was safe in the arms of His Mother, who was fleeing with Him into Egypt, with an anguish of heart so great that it constituted the _Second Dolour_. But no design of Herod, however powerful and clever, could touch that life before His hour was come. The child knew it, and His Mother knew it--yet they fled from those who sought His life; for in all things Mary's Son must be made like unto His brethren. He could have protected Himself, had He so wished, without giving so much trouble and anxiety to His parents. He heard "Rachel bewailing her children"; He heard the cry of each one of those little Innocents, who was giving his life for Him--yet He did not raise a finger to prevent all the misery, because He had come to do His Father's Will, and He left all in His Hands; and also because He is our model, and He was showing us how to act. He wants us to have a perfect acquiescence in GOD'S Will, a boundless confidence, a profound peace, and even _joy_, in the midst of the most trying and perplexing circumstances. He wants us to lie quiet in GOD'S arms, as He lay in His Mother's, content to know nothing except that GOD'S will is being done. He who knew least about it all, and yet had apparently to take the chief part and bear all the anxiety, was Joseph. He it was who received the warning message from the Angel; he it was who had to break the news to Mary that the Child's life was in danger and that they must fly immediately--even in the middle of the night. He it was who took the Child and His Mother into Egypt, in accordance with what to anyone else but Joseph would have seemed a very arbitrary and unreasonable command. But those who live their lives close to JESUS and Mary do not criticise GOD'S dealings: such an idea never occurs to them; they have only one thing to do--to obey. When a criticising, discontented spirit comes over me, I shall find that the reason is always the same--I have not been keeping close to JESUS and Mary. How much Mary suffers during that long journey across the desert--anxiety, fatigue, hunger, thirst, want of shelter! But it is all on account of her Son; the sword is piercing her heart every day, but the Babe is pressed against the wounds. Angels are following and longing to help their Queen, but they cannot without a permission from their little Master, and the permission will not be given, for He and His Mother have made their sacrifice--they have laid themselves on the Altar as victims and are already being consumed; and the desert is rejoicing and flourishing like the lily, (Isaias xxxv. 1), because Mary with her child is passing through it. O Mary, look upon thy children who are crossing the desert of this world. The wilderness has lost all its terrors since thou with thy Son didst pass through it. Thou knowest its difficulties and its hardships; "turn, then, thine eyes of mercy towards us, and after this our exile show unto us the blessed Fruit of thy womb, JESUS." _Point II._--THE LAND OF EGYPT Mary now finds herself in a heathen land, and her interest in the Gentiles must have greatly increased. But her heart is also enlarged in another direction--namely, towards the Jews of the Dispersion. Legend tells us that it was at Heliopolis, one of the cities where the Egyptian Jews lived and where they had built a Temple, that the Holy Family took up their abode while they stayed in Egypt. What a blessing and a joy to those faithful souls to have the Holy Family living amongst them! How it must have stirred up their zeal and courage! It may have been Mary's influence on many a mother's heart, and the influence of JESUS on many a little playmate, which produced in after years some of the great preachers to the Gentiles who came from amongst the Jews of the Dispersion. It was not for nothing that Mary and her Son were sent into Egypt. GOD has His reasons, though He does not often reveal them, because He loves to have our confidence. Now, for a time--_perhaps_ only for a few months, for Herod died soon after the slaughter of the Innocents--Egypt was the centre of the world; nobody guessed it, but the Angels were there worshipping, adoring, wondering. It is a true picture of the Blessed Sacrament, hidden away in so many Tabernacles, surrounded by people who do not suspect Its presence. It is nothing to thousands who pass by. But what is It to those who know? What was JESUS to Mary in the land of her exile? He was her all--_with Him_ exile was no exile; _with Him_ GOD'S Will was easy, GOD'S arrangements the best; _with Him_ it was impossible to complain, impossible to have any regrets about the past, or impatient wonderings about the future. She was absorbed in the present, because she had JESUS with her. He had to be taken care of, fed, taught, thought about, worked for, lived for. What a lesson for those who are inclined to look upon their surroundings as _Egypt_, who say too readily: "How shall we sing the song of the Lord in a strange land?" (Ps. cxxxvi. 4.) How can I do this or that _here_? It was in Egypt that the Child grew, and it was there that Mary heard His first words, watched His first tottering steps, and taught Him His first (vocal) prayers. And while her Child grew in wisdom and age, Mary was growing too--growing in grace and virtue; imbibing more and more of the spirit of her Son from the services she rendered to Him; making great progress in her new school, the school of the Cross; getting daily more food for meditation and prayer; enlarging her heart and preparing herself to be a second Eve--the Mother of all living. It _is_ possible, then, to grow in Egypt! And not only is it _possible_, but if GOD sends me there, it is the soil most suitable for my growth at that particular epoch of my life. How many of GOD'S children have had to live in uncongenial surroundings, and with those who have no sympathy with their faith, from the earliest confessors and martyrs to the present-day converts to the Faith! If JESUS had spent all His lifetime in the Holy Land, such might have been tempted to say: "He is my Model, but He was never in my circumstances!" But no, JESUS spent some time with His Mother in Egypt, and He _grew_ there. Let me learn the lesson that GOD is with me wherever I am and in whatever circumstances; and let me try to copy Mary in being so absorbed by Him, and by all that I have to do for Him, in the person of His "least brethren," that my surroundings matter little. _Point III._--THE RETURN FROM EGYPT "Be thou there until I shall tell thee," was the only order given to Joseph--there was no hint of how long the time would be; and so Mary said her _Fiat_ each day, ready either to stay in Egypt or to go back to her own land--both were the same to her as long as they were the expression of GOD'S Will. At last the Angel came again with a message: "Arise and take the Child and His Mother, and go into the land of Israel; for they are dead that sought the life of the Child." Their own dear land, then, was no longer dangerous to them. GOD gave His reasons this time--but when He does not, what then? Then my faith must be strong enough to believe that the fair land, which looks as if it would be so congenial, holds dangers for me which Egypt does not; there are enemies there who seek after my soul to destroy it, and whom I can only escape by the hard discipline of Egypt. Then I will be thankful for Egypt as long as it lasts, and thankful, too, that my life--every detail of it--is arranged for me by one who _knows_. And so the faces of Mary and JESUS were set towards the land of Israel--and to them both it meant Calvary. Mary would doubtless have preferred to take her Son back to Bethlehem, and bring Him up near the Temple, but again the warning voice told them that it was not GOD'S will. And so they "retired into the quarters of Galilee," and Mary found herself back again in Nazareth--the city of so many memories; and two more of the prophecies concerning her Son have been fulfilled: "Out of Egypt have I called my Son," and, "He shall be called a Nazarene." _Colloquy._ O Mary, get thy child grace to learn some of the precious lessons that Egypt has to teach--that blind obedience and submission which bring perfect rest; that waiting for GOD'S orders without any complaining, or impatience, or suggestions of something else; that quiet uniting of all sufferings with those of JESUS; that entire acquiescence in all His plans for me. _Resolution._ To put no obstacle in the way of GOD'S direction of me to-day. _Spiritual Bouquet._ "Fly into Egypt, and be there until I shall tell thee." Mary's Fifth Word "_And His Mother said to Him: Son, why hast Thou done so to us? Behold, Thy father and I have sought Thee sorrowing._" (St Luke ii. 48.) _1st Prelude._ A picture of Mary and Joseph finding JESUS in the Temple. _2nd Prelude._ Grace to seek JESUS as Our Lady sought Him. _Point I._--THE LOSS OF HER SON Once more the Holy Family has come up to the Temple; and it is here that Mary speaks her next recorded word. Her Son was not yet born when she spoke her last. Since then He has been her constant companion through infancy and boyhood, in trouble and in joy, at Bethlehem, in Egypt, and at Nazareth. He is twelve years old now, and counts under the law as a man; it is time to decide His calling in life. He is old enough to go with His parents to the Passover Feast at Jerusalem. So once again the real Passover Lamb goes up to His Temple; and we can think of Mary and Joseph praying there to the Child Who is kneeling between them, Mary pondering over her last visit to the Temple with Him, when she presented Him to the Lord as a little baby and when the sword pierced her soul for the first time. When it was all over, the Child JESUS "remained in Jerusalem," without saying anything to His parents! It was only when they halted for the night that Mary and Joseph would find out their loss, for the men and women left the Temple by different gates, and the children might go with either group. Mary had lost her Child! It was the third of the _Seven Dolours_, and it has been revealed to the Saints that her spiritual desolation was greater than that ever experienced by any of GOD'S children. Not only was she suffering intense desolation, but her grief was enhanced by the fear that He had left her because she had done something of which He did not approve. She also had to bear the sight of her dearly loved spouse "sorrowing," perhaps blaming himself for his want of care, and in any case not so well able as she to bear the anxiety and grief. Mary shows us how to act in our times of desolation. Diligently she searched for Him during those three days, "in the company among their kinsfolks and acquaintance," and in all the places where He had been. Then they retraced their steps to Jerusalem. No time was lost, no pains were spared; they sought Him sorrowing for His loss, and for any fault that might be theirs. How JESUS loves to be sought thus! It is one of His reasons for hiding Himself, to force us back to the company where we enjoyed His presence, to the places where we had Him with us, and to everything that reminds us of what He said to us and what we said to Him. He is not far from the souls that thus seek Him. _Point II._--THEY FOUND HIM IN THE TEMPLE It was the most natural place to find Him. Do I in my times of desolation turn instinctively to His House, where I know that He is hidden? Do I feel that I must spend all the time I possibly can close to the Tabernacle, that my body, at any rate, may be near to Him, while my spirit is calling out in its distress: "Oh, that I knew where I might find Him!" Who can measure what must have been Mary's joy and relief when she saw her Son sitting in the midst of the doctors, listening to their teaching! She "wondered"; she was perplexed; and then it was that she uttered her fifth word. It was a word of reproach rather than of joy, though it was joy that caused it, and the reproach was full of tenderness. St Bernardine calls this word, _flamma amoris saporantis_, "a flame of savouring or relishing love," because, he says, it belongs to love to "distinguish and discern, and, as it were, taste the divine effects and qualities of that which is loved." It was her love which made Mary _savour_ the intense pain caused by the absence of her Son and by the anxiety of her spouse. The flame of love within her enabled her to _relish_ both the love and the pain. Mary does not try to conceal her pain--that is not the outcome of true love. She says straight out what she is feeling, with that holy familiarity to which her love gives her a right: "Son, why hast Thou done so to us? Behold, Thy father and I have sought Thee sorrowing." Why? None knew better than He what the agony of those three days had been to His Mother, and He could have prevented it. Why, then, has He done so? Because He was beginning the principle which He carried out all through. He was the "Man of Sorrows," and she was the "Mother of Sorrows," and He would not spare her one drop in the cup of suffering. He knew its value too well, and His love for her was too great. When we have to undergo suffering that seems so unnecessary and that could (perhaps we think) with a little forethought have been so easily avoided, instead of allowing ourselves to give way to discontent, and regrets, and even rebellion, how much better it would be to say: Yes, it is quite true, JESUS could have prevented this, but He is treating me in some degree as He treated His Blessed Mother, not saving me the pain and trouble and inconvenience, but letting me have the opportunity of sanctifying my soul and of gaining greater merit. "Why hast Thou done so?" And He answers: "Did you not know that I must be about My Father's business?" By His answer He prepares His Mother for the future; He raises her above the human in Him to the Divine; He announces Himself, though obscurely, to the Doctors as the Messias; He teaches the great lesson of detachment, and shows that even our best natural affections must be supernaturalised. "My Father's business"--that must ever come first. "For this came I into the world," (St John xviii. 37), and I _must_ be about it, even if by so doing I give pain to those dearest to me. They were her Son's first recorded words, and Mary "understood" them not; they were words full of mystery and full of meaning; her mingled feelings of pain and relief, of sorrow and joy, would prevent her from seeing the gist of their meaning at once; but as time went on, and her spiritual horizon increased, she would understand more and more what His "Father's business" was, though perhaps not till she stood at the Foot of the Cross did she understand the words in all their fulness. "_Why hast Thou done so?_" It is a question Mary often puts to her other children--sometimes in surprise and amazement, sometimes in anxiety and sorrow, sometimes in love and tenderness. Well for us if we can always answer, like our Elder Brother: The "Father's business." This is an answer which will always satisfy the flame of love within her which prompts the question. _Colloquy_ with Mary, asking for grace that I may be so taken up with my "Father's business" that I cause her no anxiety. _Resolution._ To put my "Father's business" first, to-day. _Spiritual Bouquet._ "Why hast Thou done so to us?" Nazareth "_And He went down with them, and came to Nazareth, and was subject to them. And His Mother kept all these words in her heart. And JESUS advanced in wisdom and age, and grace with GOD and men._" (St Luke ii. 52.) _1st Prelude._ JESUS, Mary, and Joseph going back to Nazareth. _2nd Prelude._ Grace to go there too, and to study its lessons. _Point I._--MARY WITH JESUS AND JOSEPH The lesson has been given now; JESUS has shown His parents that He is the Son of GOD before He is the Son of Mary; that GOD'S will, and GOD'S business, and GOD'S work, are the reasons for His being on earth. Now, because He is perfect man, He will live for eighteen years in subjection to His parents, to show us that subjection is one of GOD'S laws; that the Father's business can only be done by a perfect submission to His will and to His orders, expressed and given by those under whom His providence places us. All the direction needed for the spiritual life is contained in these two sentences: "_I must be about My Father's business_," and "_He was subject to them_." The Father's business is to be done in His way--not in mine; it will only be done by a perfect submission of my will to His, by subjection all along the line, by the crushing of self. His Mother kept all these words in her heart. As she went home she was pondering and meditating again. She had no need to make a "_Composition of Place_," as she had to do a few hours ago, for her Boy was at her side once again; it was upon His words that she was meditating. They had made her realise that He was a man now, that He would have "business" to do that she must no longer expect wholly to understand. No doubt she prepared herself in her meditation to be ready from henceforth to find that His sweet, childish, obedience was over. Just as we, in our meditations, make the sacrifice beforehand about something that we dread, and then when we come up to it during the day, it is not there! But GOD is pleased, nevertheless, that we made our sacrifice. One of the many uses of meditation is that we may be fore-armed for the day's battles. So it was with Mary. When she got back to Nazareth, it is true that there was a change; it is true that the boyhood of her Son was fast passing into manhood; but His subjection was the same--only it was far more touching to His Mother's heart just because He was no longer a child. And what was Mary's part? If JESUS was "subject," Mary had to command; if JESUS obeyed, it was because Mary gave her orders--and this till He was thirty years old! What an absolute repression of self and of her own ideas there must have been in Mary before she could bring herself to give an order to Him Whom she was worshipping as her GOD! With what reverence, and honour, and humility, and searchings of heart, and preparation, and care she would give her orders! Only the knowledge that it was His wish that she should stand in GOD'S place to Him, could have given her courage. Her authority over Him was GOD'S authority, and it was only by constantly referring it to GOD that she dared to maintain it. What a lesson Mary gives here to parents and superiors and to all whose duty it is to command others! Whether they have to command the unruly and the unsubmissive, or those whom they know to be in every way superior to themselves, a few thoughts suggested by the contemplation of Mary commanding her Son at Nazareth may help to make easier a position which must often be irksome and difficult:-- 1. GOD has put me into this position because He intends me to be His delegate. 2. My orders are all given in His Name, and all my authority refers back to Him. 3. My only sure weapons are--_humility_, that is, a real belief in my own weakness; and _self-effacement_, to the extent of letting those who are under me see, not me, but GOD, in my orders. 4. I must see JESUS in all whom I command. If they are thankless and unruly, they are nevertheless amongst His "least brethren," and He wants them trained to live with their Elder Brother in His Father's house. If they are already so like Him in their docility and humility that the very sight of them makes me adore GOD in them, I will remember that Mary gave her orders to JESUS because GOD wished it; and that thought will give me courage to be His faithful representative and to give those under my care every possible opportunity of advancing in wisdom and grace by the submission of their will. 5. I must be firmly persuaded that GOD never puts anyone into a position without giving the grace to fill it. Mary needed far more grace to command JESUS than ever I shall need! _Point II._--MARY A WIDOW Neither sacred nor profane history gives the exact date of that sad day in Mary's life when death deprived her of her beloved spouse. Joseph had shared all Mary's sacred joys and sorrows from her school-days. He it was who had trained her Son in His work as a carpenter; and to him alone could she speak freely of Him. What a wonderfully happy and blessed death must have been St Joseph's--the last people he saw, JESUS and Mary; his last messages given to JESUS and Mary; all he had to leave, left to JESUS and Mary; the last words he heard, those of JESUS and Mary! He is the _Patron of a good death_: that is, he will help those who invoke him, to die with JESUS and Mary. And now from henceforth Mary will have no one to talk to about her Son, no one to share her joy in all these new lessons which she is ever learning from Him. But, on the other hand, from henceforth her Son will be her _all_. He, who later raised the dead man because "he was the only son of his mother and she was a widow," knew how to wipe away the tears from His Mother's eyes. He knew how to be to her more than a husband. From henceforth the Son and the Mother were all in all to each other--He her sole support, and she keeping the little home for Him alone. They were alone for their meals, and alone in the evenings when the day's work was done. It may have been during those blessed evenings that JESUS explained to Mary what His "Father's business" was, so that she might understand all about it; that He unfolded to her the wonderful plan of Redemption; that He told her about His public life, about the Church that He was going to found, and which she was to nurse during its infancy. Perhaps He told her, too, of the extension of the Incarnation--His great secret, the Blessed Sacrament. Who had a greater right to know it than Mary, through whose means the Incarnation took place? And as the time of the Hidden Life drew to a close, He would explain to her that His "Father's business" was calling Him away from Nazareth, that He would have to give up His home and His life with her, but that they would still work together for the Redemption of the world, their interests would still be one. Oh, blessed converse! The secrets of JESUS and Mary! More than ever was her heart being enlarged; more than ever would she have need to ponder these things in her heart. With the undivided attention of such a Master, what progress she must have made in virtue and in grace! _Point III._--MARY ALONE But the day came at last when her Son was to leave their little home. Mary knew that it would come; again she had made her sacrifice beforehand, and she was ready. She was saying her _Fiat_ while Simeon's ever-active sword was piercing her heart. There was the last meal, the last kiss, the last blessing--and He was gone. She watched Him till He was out of sight and then turned to her empty house. It would never be the same again. Never again would she have Him all to herself. But Mary was a "valiant woman," and no grief of hers would spoil her Son's work. Three thoughts supported her in her trial; and the same three will support us in our trials too. 1. This separation was GOD'S will--and that was always dearer to Mary than _anything_ else. 2. The very sacrifice of her Son that she was called upon to make, was a proof of her union with Him and with His interests. 3. The knowledge that the separation was no real separation. It is true that never again will He come in from His work and share the simple meal with her; true that there will be no more talking over their plans together; but such a perfect union as theirs cannot be broken by separation. Does not everything in the house speak of Him? Mary has had her time of _consolation_; now she is to have her time of _desolation_. Let me learn from her how to act under these changed conditions, which are sure to be mine at some time or other in my life. How does Mary act? Does she sit still and mourn over the days that are gone? Not at all. She acts as though they were _not_ gone; as though there were no difference between consolation and desolation; there _is_ no difference really, but faith and love must be very strong before this fact can be grasped. Mary does her work as usual with her Son and for her Son. Her heart is with Him all the time; everything reminds her of Him, and she is thinking of Him, talking to Him, telling Him everything just as she did before. How far am I like her? "Sedes sapientiæ, ora pro nobis." _Colloquy_ with Mary, asking her to get me grace to ponder over these wonderful mysteries. _Resolution._ Never to allow myself to make any change in my spiritual life during a time of desolation. _Spiritual Bouquet._ "He was subject to them." Mary's Sixth Word "_The Mother of JESUS saith to Him: They have no wine._" (St John ii. 3.) _1st Prelude._ The Marriage Feast. _2nd Prelude._ Grace to remember the interest that Mary takes in her children. _Point I._--"THEY HAVE NO WINE" It looks, from the context, as though Our Blessed Lady were staying in the house at Cana where the wedding feast took place, for while St John tells us that JESUS and His disciples were _invited_, he says that "the Mother of JESUS was _there_." We need not suppose that she remained long at Nazareth after her Son began His public ministry--it is more probable that she stayed with friends in the neighbourhood of His work. After this first miracle of her Son's, she went with Him and His disciples to Capharnaum, but "remained there not many days," St John tells us. (chap. ii. 12.) At all events, she was at Cana at the time of the marriage feast, and it may be that it was in St John's house that she was staying; for there is a very old tradition which tells that the bridegroom was none other than John himself. If the tradition be true, it lends an additional significance to this sixth word of Our Lady; for, as St Bernardine suggests, it would probably be the miracle produced by this word which made him decide to give up the wedded state, even before he had entered upon it, for one of perpetual virginity--a decision which endeared him to the hearts of Our Lord and His Blessed Mother. Eighteen years had passed since Mary's last recorded word. It was spoken to Our Lord Himself, as also was this one. St Bernardine calls the sixth word "a word of compassionating love" (_flamma amoris compatientis_). We shall see why as we continue our meditation. It is not difficult to picture that little family feast in which JESUS and Mary took part. Their presence produced, as it ever must, joy, peace, and harmony. But now, apparently, there was going to be a hitch in the proceedings; Mary's watchful eyes noticed that the wine was running short; she wanted to save the newly married pair from any confusion and humiliation that would spoil their mirth on this glad day, and she showed her _compassionating_ love by anticipating their need. Mary is the same now; she is full of compassionating love, pity, and thought for her children; she anticipates their needs and will save them, if possible, from the dangers which threaten them, by telling JESUS. What a comfort it should be to me to remember that I have a Mother in Heaven who is looking out for the difficulties and dangers which threaten me, and doing her best to avert them! How far am I like my Mother in this? Do I, by my tact and forethought and observation, try to smooth away difficulties and avert little unpleasantnesses that I see lying in the path of another? To what extent is this _flamma amoris compatientis_ burning in me? Do others feel that if I am there, not only will there be more joy and mirth, but also more harmony and good feeling--in short, that things are sure to run smoothly, because one of Mary's children--"a child of Mary"--is there. The Mother of JESUS was there. _Point II._--THE ANSWER OF JESUS JESUS, too, had noticed that the wine was running short, and He knew that He was going to work a wonderful miracle of transubstantiation, foreshadowing the miracle worked at every Mass. He knew also that He would not work the miracle till His Mother had intervened. At Nazareth He made her a participator in all His work. Though separated from Him, she was still to have her share; and her share was _prayer_--the great work of intercession. By this means, doubtless, she had had her share in her Son's Baptism, in the Fasting and Temptation in the wilderness, in the calling of the first six Apostles. Now, in this first miracle, He will give a lesson to these Apostles and show them the position His Mother is to occupy in His Church. She understands that He addresses her as "Woman" rather than as Mother, to show them that He, and they too, must be detached from all natural affections and ties. He has His Father's business to do, and they have been chosen to help Him in it, and she is acting in her _official_ position as Intercessor. My hour for working this miracle is not yet come, but now that you have spoken it soon will come, seems to be the meaning of His answer. It was by this miracle that JESUS manifested forth His glory, "so that His disciples believed on Him." And one of Mary's reasons for saying: "They have no wine," and thus asking for the miracle, may have been that she knew it would confirm the faith of the new Apostles in her Son. What a loving, compassionating Mother she already is! How her heart is enlarging to take in all that concerns her Son--His work, His interests, His miracles, His Apostles! She notices the needs, and just hints them to JESUS; there is no need to explain and go into details; they understand each other--it is heart-to-heart work. If the flame of compassionating love is burning in her heart, it is because it has been lighted at the fire of the Sacred Heart. In after years, especially during the Passion and after the Ascension, when the Apostles must so often have turned to Our Lady for consolation, help, and direction, how they would look back to the time of the feast in Cana of Galilee, when they heard her say her first _official_ word: "They have no wine"! And how the remembrance of it would strengthen their faith, not only in Him, in Whom from that moment they "believed," but also in her whom He had then so clearly pointed out as His co-worker, and as the one from whom they might expect help in their needs. If Mary did so much for her children when she was on earth, without even being asked; and if she supplied needs, of which they were scarcely conscious, what will she not do now, when, as the great Intercessor at her Son's right hand in Heaven, she hears the entreaties of her children on earth? She still co-operates with JESUS; her work is still to find out the needs of her children and to tell Him of them. When I am in need, perplexity, or trouble, what a consolation and strength it would be to remember that this very need of mine is a subject of conversation between JESUS and Mary; and that, when His hour is come, her pleadings for me will be heard, and the need will be supplied! _Colloquy_ with the Mother of Compassion. "Mater misericordiæ, ora pro nobis." _Resolution._ To try to-day to prevent little unpleasantnesses happening to others. _Spiritual Bouquet._ "The Mother of JESUS was there." Her Seventh Word _His Mother saith to the waiters: "Whatsoever He shall say to you, do ye."_ (St John ii. 5.) _1st Prelude._ The Marriage Feast. Mary speaking to the waiters. _2nd Prelude._ Grace to obey. _Point I._--LOVE'S CONSUMMATION--OBEDIENCE The perfect understanding that existed between Mary and her Son made her quite sure from His answer that all would be well, that a miracle would be worked, and the need supplied; and so she prepared the way for it by speaking her seventh recorded word. It is to the waiters that she speaks--to those whose work it is to minister to the needs of JESUS and His brethren. "Whatsoever He shall say to you, do ye." St Bernardine calls this word "a flame of consummating love," (_flamma amoris consummantis_), because Mary shows by it that her love for her Son and for all her other children is so great, that she desires that all should obey Him, and accomplish His commandments perfectly. She is not content with loving and serving Him herself, the flame of love that makes her own obedience so perfect, burns that others too may consummate their love by their obedience: "Whatsoever He shall say to you, do ye." If you want my Son to show you some special favour, be very careful about your obedience. Mary's word is for _all_ her children, but it is intended principally for the waiters, to whom it was primarily addressed. It is those who have, in any way, to minister to JESUS under the guise of His "least brethren," who have to remember so specially that they are to do only what _He_ says--that they are only His agents waiting for His orders. How much better His servants would do their work if they carried out His Mother's direction, and did all that He says and only what He says! His "least brethren," who are sick, would never feel neglected, would never hear that impatient word which makes them long to get up, and wait on themselves, instead of being left to the tender mercies of the servants of JESUS and Mary! His "least brethren" who are tiresome and difficult to get on with--perhaps only because they are lonely and in need of sympathy--would be quite sure of never getting an unkind, cutting, or thoughtless word from those who are waiting on JESUS and Mary; it is what _He_ saith that they will say and do--nothing else. And amongst the waiters themselves there would be no jealousies, and heart-burnings, and envyings, and criticisms; no thinking that others are preferred to them, that they are left out and taken no notice of, that their services are not wanted. The waiters would remember that they are waiting upon _His_ Brethren, and that they have no right to do or say or plan anything that He does not tell them; and if He tells them nothing for the moment, and they have to stand by, and see others do His work, they are nevertheless His servants, waiting for His next orders. "Whatsoever He shall say, do." Obedience, then, is love's consummation. Mary's love--strong flame though it is--cannot get beyond obedience; there is nothing higher; it is the proof, the crown, the consummation of love. When, for the moment, her request seems unheeded--even rejected--her consolation is: "Whatsoever He shall say" will be right; whatever it is, it will be the answer for me. "_Ecce ancilla Domini._" Behold the servant waiting. _Point II._--RESULT--WATER CHANGED TO WINE The waiters have not long to wait for their orders. When His Mother has prepared us and we are standing waiting ready to do "whatsoever" He shall say, the order is quite clear. We know exactly what He means, and what it is that He wants done; and though the order may seem unreasonable, and we run the risk of humiliating ourselves before others, yet we shall do it, for His Mother said: "Whatsoever." And by doing it we shall prove that our love, like hers, is a consummating love--a love that finds its consummation in obedience. This kind of love is like a fairy's wand; it changes all that it touches, water is wine everywhere--that is, we get the best out of everything; not perhaps immediately, or at any rate we are not so quick to _detect_ the "good wine" as the steward of the feast was; the path of obedience is often, as it was for Mary, a path beset with difficulty and sorrow; but love has touched it, the result is the same, the water _is_ changed, and changed into "_good_ wine." It would not be good for us to drink of it to the full now. GOD reserves the good wine till the end, and when we have well drunk of the cup of suffering and sorrow here, He will hand us the cup of joy that inebriates. Here we may only "_taste_ and see that the Lord is sweet"; (Ps. xxxiii. 9); but one day, when the _flamma amoris consummantis_ is perfected in us, when we have done all that He saith to us, and paid our debts even to "the last farthing," (St Matt. v. 26), then we shall drink to the full of the joy of His countenance, (Ps. xv. 11), and He will say: "I have inebriated the weary soul, and I have _filled_ every hungry soul." (Jer. xxxi. 25.) _Colloquy_ with Our Lady, asking that I may always hear her voice telling me to obey her Son. _Resolution._ To remember that obedience turns water into wine. _Spiritual Bouquet._ "Whatsoever He shall say to you, do ye." Who is my Mother? "_My mother and my brethren are they who hear the word of GOD and do it._" (St Luke viii. 21.) _1st Prelude._ Our Lady standing waiting on the outskirts of the crowd. _2nd Prelude._ Grace to "hear the word of GOD and do it." _Point I._--HIS MOTHER STANDING WITHOUT This one incident in which Mary is mentioned between the time of the Marriage at Cana and Holy Week, happened during the second year of her Son's ministry. We do not know whether or not she had been near Him during this time. According to the opinion of some, she was one of the little band of women who followed Him about, to minister to His needs and those of His Apostles. But whether she followed Him actually or not, we know that her spirit was ever with Him, and that she followed Him with her prayers, and interest, and sympathy, _knowing_ Him more as He manifested Himself more by His healing and miracles, and therefore _loving_ Him and _imitating_ Him more, and _therefore_, growing in grace, of which she was ever full. Such, we are quite sure, is a true picture of Mary, though this one instance at Capharnaum is the only occasion on which we are able to make an actual picture of her. Her Son had probably come to Capharnaum for a rest after one of His missionary rounds; it may be that He had come to have a little time of refreshment with her. And she and His brethren--His relatives--went to meet Him, desiring to speak to Him. We are not told what it was that they were so anxious to tell Him. When they arrived He was already addressing a crowd which was _sitting_ about Him, and which was so great that His Mother and His brethren could not get near Him; and so "they _stood_ without"--on the outskirts--and thus attracted the notice of someone who attracted _His_ notice; someone, in fact, who interrupted Him in the middle of His discourse, by telling Him that His Mother and His brethren wanted Him. Such is the simple incident, and by it Mary affords her Son the opportunity of giving two most important lessons to His Apostles, and also to those who would, during all time, have any kind of apostolic work to do. _Point II._--A LESSON ON INTERRUPTIONS He is preaching, and He is interrupted. What does He do? Shows, as He had shown so clearly before, when He was only twelve years old, that His "Father's business" must come first--that He is perfectly indifferent to all natural ties when that is concerned, and that His followers have got to be the same. He is preaching to the people--that is His work, and not even for a desire of His Mother will He interrupt it. He preaches by example what He had already preached by word: "He that loveth father or mother more than Me is not worthy of Me; and he that taketh not up his cross and followeth Me is not worthy of Me." (St Matt. x. 37.) Incidentally, He shows us what we may do with our interruptions. We are so prone to let them worry us, to think that they spoil our work, to say: But for these endless interruptions, I could do so much more! What did our Lord do with His interruption, which was a very real one, and far more disturbing than are many of ours of which we complain so readily? He turned it into good use, so that His work was the gainer by it and not the loser. If we cannot always follow His example literally by making the interruption a _direct_ help to our work, we can always make it help _indirectly_ by taking it as a message from GOD, Who would give His Apostle an opportunity of practising patience, self-control, and self-repression. Our work will gain more by these divinely planned interruptions than by the smooth, easy, methods which we had planned for ourselves. _Point III._--A LESSON ON RELATIONSHIPS To the interrupter He said: "Who is My mother? and who are My brethren?" And, looking round on them who sat about Him, He saith: "Behold My mother and My brethren! For My mother and My brethren are they who hear the word of GOD and do it." It is the same lesson that He gave to the woman, who probably was one of the very crowd He was now addressing, and who could not refrain from proclaiming before everyone the _blessedness_ of His Mother. To her He said: "Yea, rather, blessed are they who hear the word of GOD and keep it." (St Luke xi. 27, 28.) The lesson, then, is that He holds as His nearest and dearest those who do His Father's Will. His Mother was, it is true, dearer to Him than all besides, was, it is true, blessed above all women; but only because she did His Father's Will more perfectly than any other. Who is My mother? Any of these in the crowd have as much right to Me as she has, if they do My Father's Will as she does it. This is the lesson that Mary is giving Him the opportunity of teaching. Would I be dear to Him as His Mother was; would I have that close union of heart; would I see things from His point of view; would I be willing to be put in the background and kept standing there if it furthers the "Father's business"; would I be ready to suffer anything for the spread of His Kingdom? There is only one way--do as she did. "Whosoever shall do the will of My Father that is in Heaven, the same is My mother." _Colloquy_ with Mary standing in the background. Thou whose unique privilege it is to be the Mother of GOD, teach me to do His will in such a way that I may share in some degree thy _spiritual_ maternity. This was thine by _detachment_--even from the visible presence of JESUS, by a perfect _performance of the will of GOD_, and by _suffering_. By thy ceaseless intercession help me to struggle ceaselessly till I know something of these three things. _Resolution._ To prove my close relationship with JESUS and Mary to-day by the way I do GOD'S will. _Spiritual Bouquet._ "His Mother stood without." The Fourth and Fifth Dolours "_And thy own soul a sword shall pierce._" (St Luke ii. 35.) _1st Prelude._ (1) Mary meeting JESUS with His Cross. (2) Mary witnessing the Crucifixion of Her Son. _2nd Prelude._ Grace to understand what a precious gift suffering is. _Point I._--MARY'S SUFFERING Mary, with the knowledge which she had all her life of her Son's Passion, must have known when the hour was approaching. She had noticed the ever-increasing envy and hatred of the Chief Priests. She knew of the various attempts on His life, and of the organised plot to kill Him. And when the Passion itself began, we may be quite sure that, even if she were not actually a witness of some of the scenes, the Apostles kept her informed of what was going on. She would hear of the Agony in the Garden, of Judas' betrayal, of the desertion of the Apostles; then of the trials, of the scourging and crowning with thorns, of Pilate's vain attempts to save Him; _she_ knew that they would be vain. And when at length the death sentence was passed, she set out with the other ministering women to be as near to Him as she could while He carried His Cross to Calvary. _Once_, at any rate, on the Way of the Cross they caught sight of each other, and had that unspeakable consolation which no one could give to JESUS but Mary, and no one to Mary but JESUS. But though it was a consolation, it was also an anguish so great, that this meeting of JESUS with His Blessed Mother is counted as one of the seven swords that pierced her heart. It is the _Fourth Dolour_. Then, on Calvary's hill, she must have heard, even if she did not see, the nails being driven in; and heard, too, something that gave her strength and courage at that terrible moment--her Son speaking to His Father, the crowning point of Whose "business" He had now reached: "Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do." Who can measure what the pain of this _Fifth Dolour_ was to Mary! What was it that gave her an almost superhuman courage? The firm belief that everything she saw and heard was GOD'S will; and such was the intensity with which she had said her _Fiat_, that His will was nearer to her even than her own sufferings. In proportion as this is the case with us shall we get the good that GOD intends out of suffering, and join, as Mary did, our prayers with those of JESUS by asking GOD'S forgiveness for all who cause us suffering. _Point II._--MARY'S SACRIFICE Then, as soon as the darkness permitted her to draw near without observation, she allowed John to take her to the Foot of the Cross, and there took up her stand. Her sacrifice was very near to its completion now. This is what she meant when she said her _Fiat_ to the Angel Gabriel thirty-three years ago. This is what she meant when she presented Him to the Lord when He was forty days old. The three days' loss, and the separation when He left His home at Nazareth, had been a foreshadowing of this. Now the consummation of her sacrifice had arrived: "And there stood by the Cross of JESUS His Mother"! She had never flinched, had never looked back. It had been _Fiat_ all along the line. She was a "valiant woman" to the end, bravely doing her part, and offering her Son to GOD. This was Mary's sacrifice--but what is her part in the Sacrifice that her Son is offering to His Father for the world's redemption? Just this, that she provided the Victim. She did not withhold her Son--her only Son. (Gen. xxii. 16.) JESUS on Calvary offered Himself to the Father; and Mary assisted--not only by the perfect union of her will and intention with His, but _actually_, by providing Him with the Body which He was offering to His Father. Her position was that of the Deacon at High Mass. His part is not the offering of the Sacrifice--the Priest alone can do that--but He provides the Priest with the bread and wine which he is going to use for the Sacrifice, and without which there could be no Sacrifice. "A _Body_ hast thou prepared Me"; and that Body came from Mary--it was with Blood drawn from her veins that He redeemed the world. But the Sacrificial Act was His, and His alone: "I have trodden the wine-press alone." (Isaias lxiii. 3.) _Point III._--MARY'S LEGACY As she stood there taking her part, how her heart was enlarging! He was dying for the whole world--for the whole human race, past, present, and future--and she was His Mother; she was standing by and assisting; all His interests were hers. She had seen the conversions worked by Him on the Way of the Cross; she had seen the change in the dying thief; now JESUS addressed Himself to her, and by His Third Word from the Cross made her the Second Eve, the Mother of all living--of all for whom He was dying. "Woman, behold thy son!" Again He used the official title--_Woman_; He was not treating her now as _His_ Mother, but rather as the Mother of all. Behold thy son; take John for thy son, and with him take the whole human race. He counted on her power of suffering, and it was through that suffering that she became the universal Mother. He knew how the sword would stab when she heard that she was to take John in His place, but He knew also that the wound made by that sword-thrust would enlarge her heart to take in her new family. He was dying, and His legacy to His Mother was the whole human race. The idea was not a new one to her, for He had been gradually training her up to it, as we have seen, ever since the Incarnation. He added another word to make all sure. He spoke now to John as the representative of the human race: "Behold thy Mother!" The immediate meaning of His words John very well understood--that he was to cherish, support, and take care of her; be a son to her now that her own Son was being taken from her. But He had an intention in that word for each one of us. To each and all He said: "_Behold Thy Mother!_" and from that moment all who will, have the right to take her to their own. To what extent have I taken this word seriously? Have I really believed that JESUS had me in His mind as well as St John when He said: "Behold thy Mother!" that it was of me that He thought and to me that He spoke? Have I felt the responsibility as well as the honour of being a child of Mary, and that it is my bounden duty to love and cherish her, to support and take care of her--that is, to stand up for her and shield her from those who _will_ not behold her as their Mother? O my Mother, I want more than ever to take thee to _my own_, as thy first adopted son did. Come home with me, live side by side with me, talk to me of JESUS, and thus help to pass the time when you see me getting weary; help me to imitate Him as thou didst, and to share His work by my prayer and sacrifice as thou didst. And then, Mother, thou wilt always be there to show me what sacrifice really means--how it enters into all the little details of everyday life--to show me what having my will united to thy Son's means. Thou wilt be there to put a restraining hand upon me and make me live as a child of Mary should; thou, to whom JESUS was subject, wilt teach me what real submission means. Yes, I am decided that to-day it shall be recorded of me in Heaven: "From that hour that disciple took her to his own." _Colloquy_ with Mary. _Resolution._ To take Mary as the special gift of JESUS to me. _Spiritual Bouquet._ "There stood by the Cross of JESUS His Mother." The Sixth and Seventh Dolours "_And Joseph, buying fine linen and taking Him down, wrapped Him in the fine linen, and laid Him in a sepulchre which was hewed out of a rock._" (St Mark xv. 46.) _1st Prelude._ A picture of the Thirteenth Station. _2nd Prelude._ Grace to be unselfish in my grief. _Point I._--MATER DOLOROSA As Mary stands at her post, praying for her new family for whom her Son is dying, and uniting herself more closely than ever with His intentions, the sword never ceases to pierce afresh her wounded heart. She has to listen to the cry: "I thirst!" from the parched lips and throat of Him from Whom she had never heard a complaint; and she has to appear to be deaf to His needs. Again she hears a cry, more full of agony even than the last: "My GOD, My GOD, why hast Thou forsaken Me!" and she who once lost her Son for three days (the _Third Dolour_) can understand in some small degree the anguish of that cry. Then after His next words: "All is consummated," she hears Him commend His Soul to His Father, and she watches Him die. She is alone! And not only is she alone, but she has a sense of responsibility. Just as on the occasion of a death among us, the one next has to rise to the responsibility and act _at once_, so it was with Mary. She was the one _next_. She knew that it was to her that the Apostles and all His friends would turn to know what to do--what He would like done. He who had died on the Cross "was indeed the Son of GOD," and she was His Mother; she, if anyone did, must know all about Him. So, although all is over, there is no time for Mary to relax and give way to her grief. There is work to be done--work that He has left her. "It is finished" for Him, but she is only just beginning her work as Mother of the Church. And so she still stands at the Foot of the Cross, reverently worshipping the dead Body to which the Divinity is still united. Her meditation was suddenly interrupted--"One of the soldiers with a spear pierced His Side"; and again Simeon's prophecy was fulfilled: "Thine own soul a sword shall pierce." Soon followed what is called her _Sixth Dolour_--the taking down of her Son from the Cross. He was in the hands of friends now, and all was done with the greatest reverence and loving tenderness. But nothing could stay the sword from piercing Mary's heart when she received into her hands the blood-stained Crown of Thorns and the rough nails. Nothing could stay it when she had her JESUS once more in her arms, and was able to see for herself the cruel wounds as she washed them and bound them up. Then when the precious Body had been wrapped in the winding sheet, she accompanied the little cortège which carried It to the tomb. And when, after a few minutes' adoration, she beckoned them all away, and the great stone was rolled to its place, the sword pierced her heart again--it was the _Seventh Dolour_--the burial of JESUS. She allowed John to escort her past the three crosses, along the way which He had trodden, back to the Cenacle. "That disciple took her to his own." The next time we make the Way of the Cross, let us make it with Mary as John did. She will explain to us better than anyone else can, the meaning of each "station." Mary has left Him now, but she is with Him still in spirit and in heart--hence her strength. What a lesson she gives us on how to act in times of bereavement! We are never to lose sight of the fact that this particular kind of suffering is intended for our sanctification. This will prevent us from allowing it to make us morbid, selfish, gloomy, inconsiderate, ungrateful, acting as though _our_ suffering were greater than that of everybody else, being exacting and fastidious about things that remind us of our lost one--even of having the name mentioned in our presence! What about our sacrifice? Are not all such things as these a part of it? We have no business to add to the trials of others by our tyrannical selfishness. Sorrow ought to brace the soul up to greater heights of sanctity; if it depresses it to a lower level of spirituality, there is something very wrong with us. We are not copying Mary, neither are we uniting our sufferings to those of JESUS--the only way of making them meritorious. Let us see to it that our grief is a source of joy and blessing to everyone else in the house. This means self put on one side; it means a smiling face, a bright, cheery, voice in spite of a breaking heart. It means a great sympathy with the grief of others--and it _often_ means that we shall get the credit of not really caring, of not having much depth of affection, not much heart! But this again is part of the sacrifice which we gladly offer if only it may aid suffering in doing its blessed work. There were those, no doubt, who were ready enough to say that Mary's calm courage was unnatural. But _we_ know that it was supernatural: let us try to copy her in it. _Point II._--MATER MISERICORDIÆ What must have been the grief of the Apostles--their Friend, Teacher, and Lord dead, their hopes all dashed, and their consciences ill at ease as they thought of their base desertion of Him in His hour of need! They were scattered everyone to his own, but probably one by one they found their way back to the Cenacle. It was the last house where they had been all together with Him, and it seemed natural to go there again--and besides, His Mother was there. She was next to Him, and therefore more to them than anyone else could be. _She_ had been faithful to the end. She could tell them more about Him than anyone else could. Her very voice and manner reminded them of Him. Somehow, they felt that she would look at things from His point of view, and that if _she_ forgave them for the wrong they had done to her Son, _He_ would. Then they would learn from John what JESUS had said about her with His dying lips--that they might now regard her in very deed as their Mother; that she was now in fact the Mother of the Church which He had founded; and that they could turn to her in their times of perplexity and difficulty. "Behold thy Mother"--the Mother of Good Counsel and the Mother of Mercy! Was it not just what they wanted? How well He knew! How thoughtful it was of Him to leave us Mary! And so we may think of Mary on Holy Saturday rallying her new family round her, loving them for her Son's sake, making excuses for their weaknesses, as a mother ever does, and putting fresh heart and courage into them. And then we may think of her stealing away to ponder--to make the first Meditation on the Passion, presenting willingly her heart to the sword once more, that her compassion might fit her for her position as Mother of Mercy. _Colloquy_ with Mary, who says to me: For you, too, my child, "I am the Mother of fair love, and of fear, and of knowledge, and of holy hope. Come over to me, all ye that desire me, and be filled with my fruits. He that hearkeneth unto me shall not be confounded; and they that work by me shall not sin." (Ecclus. xxiv. 24-30.) _Resolution._ To take my troubles and difficulties to Mary to-day. _Spiritual Bouquet._ "Mater Dolorosa, Mater misericordiæ, ora pro nobis." The First Glorious Mystery "_He shall reign for ever, and of His Kingdom there shall be no end._" (St Luke i. 32, 33.) _1st Prelude._ A picture or statue of Our Lady. _2nd Prelude._ Grace to learn from Mary how to rejoice. _Point I._--MARY'S EASTER DAY "Of His Kingdom there shall be no end." It was to Mary that these words were said, before her Son was born; and she believed them. She knew, therefore, that He would rise again; she knew that all was not finished when she left the precious Body in Joseph's new tomb. In all probability, too, JESUS had told her, as He told the Apostles, that He would rise again on the third day. And while they "believed not nor understood," _she_ did both. But this supernatural gift of faith, which she exercised to the full, had not the power to prevent the sword from piercing on Good Friday and Holy Saturday. She felt the full weight of all her sorrow, but she sorrowed, as all Christian mourners should do, "not without hope." What must her expectation have been as she knelt on that Holy Saturday night counting the minutes till the day dawned! She knew that He would rise again--but would she see Him? Would He come to her? He had kept her so much in the background during His ministry, perhaps He will do so still, and it will be to those who need Him most that He will come. No, sweet Mother, the meek and lowly of heart ever attract Him; it is to the heart which _desires_ Him most that He will come. A pure, disinterested desire to have JESUS ever proves to Him an invincible attraction. No one on earth desired to see JESUS as Mary did, and it was to her, as the traditions of the Holy Fathers testify, that He came first--as soon as the Easter Day dawned and "death could no longer be holden of Him." The Evangelists are silent about this appearance of JESUS to His Blessed Mother, for the very good reason that she told them nothing about it. There was no need to do so, as, for example, there was to tell various little details about His Birth, because GOD wished us to know them. At this meeting of the Son and the Mother even Angels would fear to intrude; and we ordinary mortals simply should not understand what took place, even were it narrated to us. All those to whom He appeared would take it for granted that His Mother had seen Him--why write down a thing that everybody knew? "According to thy faith be it unto thee." Mary was the _only_ one who had faith enough to believe that her Son would rise again, and it was only natural that she should be the first to see Him. She was the one who had entered most deeply into His sorrows, and she would be the one to whom He would first communicate the Easter joy. Let us now think a little about Mary's joy. _Point II._--MARY'S JOY AND ITS CAUSES What joy it must have been to Mary to see that precious Body which He had taken from her, which she had nurtured and tended and loved, which she had seen so recently covered with scars and gaping wounds! What joy it must have been to her to see It in all the beauty of Its Resurrection--to see It glorified! Her joy was so intense that the saints tell us it was only by a miracle that her body could master her soul and keep it still a prisoner. And then the consolation of knowing that never again would He suffer--the joy of seeing the Five Wounds and knowing that He would keep them always, as precious memorials of His death and of His victory over death, of His undying love for His Church, and of His right to give it all that it should ever claim, because with those wounds He had more than paid for all that it would ever need. Mary entered into all these truths as no one else could, and therefore her Easter joy was greater than that of anybody else. Her joy was greater, too, because her _love_ was greater. Her love for JESUS was wholly unselfish, and so was her joy; it was wholly on account of the joy of her Son. She forgot her own joy for the moment; she forgot the long exile that lay before her; she forgot everything but His joy. Her _suffering_ also was indirectly another cause of her joy. Our capacity for joy is in proportion to our capacity for suffering. We have seen something of what Mary's capacity for suffering was, and so we can understand in some small measure how full was her cup of joy. Mary had other joys too, which were incidental to the joy of seeing her Son risen and glorified. She saw the saints who rose with Him, for He would be sure to present them to His Mother. Some would need no introduction--her dear spouse St Joseph, her parents St Joachim and St Anne. Yes, Mary's joys more than made up for her sorrows. One day, if we try to receive our cup of sorrow as Mary did, that is, take it _for_ JESUS and _with_ JESUS, we too shall receive the cup of joy, and we shall be able to say with St Paul as we put the two side by side: "The sufferings are not worthy to be compared with the glory." (Rom. viii. 18.) Teach me, O holy Mother of GOD, something of this real joy--the joy that is arrived at through faith, through suffering, through a perfect union of heart with the Sacred Heart of JESUS, and through conformity to GOD'S will; the joy of the risen life--the new life that rises out of the death to self. _Colloquy._ The _Regina Coeli_:-- "Queen of Heaven, rejoice,--Alleluia For He Whom thou wast made worthy to bear--Alleluia Hath risen as He said--Alleluia. Pray for us to GOD--Alleluia." (_Anthem from Easter to Trinity._) _Resolution._ To say my _Fiat_ bravely with Mary, as the surest way of sharing her joy. _Spiritual Bouquet._ "Causa nostræ lætitiæ, ora pro nobis." The Second and Third Glorious Mysteries "_All these were persevering with one mind in prayer, with the women, and Mary the Mother of JESUS, and with His brethren._" (Acts i. 14.) _1st Prelude._ (1) A picture of the Ascension--Our Lady kissing the Footprints. (2) A picture of the Descent of the Holy Ghost--a tongue of fire resting on the head of Our Lady, who is seated in the midst of the Apostles. _2nd Prelude._ Grace to enter into the dispositions of Mary. _Point I._--MARY ON ASCENSION DAY Many, no doubt, were the visits that JESUS paid to His Blessed Mother during the forty days that His glorified Body still lingered in this world of ours, as though He were loath to leave it. He was bracing her up for the time of exile that lay before her, filling her with stores of consolation upon which she would be able to draw in her times of desolation. She probably knew that the fortieth day was the last, and that, when He led His little flock out "as far as Bethania," it was His last walk with them. She knew of the "mountain appointed" where He wished all His brethren to assemble--"more than five hundred at once." (1 Cor. xv. 6.) She heard His last words, heard Him charge His _witnesses_: "Going, therefore, teach (_make disciples of_) all nations: and behold I am with you all days, even to the consummation of the world." (St Matt. xxviii. 19, 20.) She was not to be a witness--though she was ever the silent witness of His Humanity--but it was only fitting that she should hear all the orders that were given to her children. She heard of the promise of the Father, and that they were to stay in the city till it was fulfilled. She saw Him lift up His hands in blessing--the last blessing; she watched with the rest His glorified Body raised up from their midst--watched till "a cloud received Him out of their sight," then she knelt in humble acquiescence to GOD'S will and kissed the ground where He had just stood--the favoured bit of earth which was the last to be touched by His blessed Feet. When she looked up, it was to see two angels asking the astonished disciples why they were gazing into Heaven, and telling them that the same JESUS who was taken up from them into Heaven would so come again as they had seen Him go. It was not to _her_ that the angels were speaking--_she_ was not gazing up. She _knew_ the lesson that the others were being taught, knew that her Son was already in Heaven, sitting at the right hand of GOD. (St Mark xvi. 19.) When the Apostles realised sufficiently what had happened, they, "adoring, went back to Jerusalem with joy," (St Luke xxiv. 52), and Mary led them to the Cenacle to "wait for the promise of the Father," as her Son had bidden them. Thus she taught them the lesson she would teach all her children--that the only thing to do in times of desolation and sorrow is to follow closely the commands of JESUS: "Whatsoever He shall say to you, do ye." It is no use to stand gazing after what has gone; this is no time for regrets; He gave a clear command: "Go to Jerusalem and wait." We shall always find that there is no balm for sorrow like fidelity to duty. It costs something; human nature longs to stay and hug its sorrow; but it is far wiser to turn away from the loved spot and go bravely hand in hand with the Mother of Sorrows to do the next thing to which duty--that is the voice of JESUS--calls us. _Point II._--MARY ON THE DAY OF PENTECOST Nine days they spent with Mary the Mother of JESUS, persevering with one mind in prayer, (Acts i. 14), and going constantly to the Temple to praise and bless GOD. (St Luke xxiv. 53.) It was a Novena of prayer and thanksgiving. It was Mary's first official act as Mother of the Church. She kept the little flock together, kept them close to her Son by obedience to His last command, by intercession for the great gift that He had promised to send them, and by thanksgiving for all that He had been to them and done for them. It was the first Retreat, and they made it with Mary, the Mother of GOD. What must Mary's prayers have been during those nine days! She was now more united than ever to her Son; her eye of faith saw Him at the Right Hand of GOD in Heaven; she saw eye to eye with Him; she knew all His interests and intentions; she had still a Mother's right to command Him; she knew that nothing in their relationship was changed, and that He would not refuse her behests in Heaven any more than He had done on earth. And so, as her eyes swept the wide horizon which was now hers, the Mother of the Church made a Novena for Pentecost, praying with all her knowledge and all her power, for the Holy Ghost to come down upon her children--to come and fill that Church of which she was the Mother, that Church which her Son had founded, for which He had given His life. These first Retreatants had no books. They needed none--their lives were so closely bound up with the life of JESUS; the Holy Spirit prayed within them; and Mary was ever with them directing, and setting them an example. In proportion as these things are true of us are we independent of _exterior_ help in our prayers. And the more we are able to dispense with exterior help, the more interior and real will be our prayers. Then "when the days were accomplished"--when the Novena was over--the Holy Ghost came down as JESUS had promised that He should--came down as a tongue of fire upon each one: a proof that He had entered into each one of those expectant, faithful souls, filling each according to his capacity, and giving each the power needful to carry on the work that was appointed for him to do. What, then, must have been the measure with which Mary was "filled with the Holy Ghost," for what was the Apostles' work compared with hers? She had always been "full of grace"--she had long been the spouse of the Holy Ghost, ever since He had overshadowed her at the Incarnation, and He had always been filling her according to her ever-increasing capacity. We have seen how, under her Son's training, her horizon was ever enlarging--how much wider it became on Calvary, how pain and joy had dilated her heart, how her intercourse with her Divine Son during those forty days had still more widened her outlook; and now, with all the fresh territory over which she was to reign, in her mind and in her heart, she had been praying--the Holy Ghost had been praying within her--for Him to come and overshadow her once again, and fill her with grace that she might be able to meet all her new responsibilities as Mother of the Church. Mary had more need of the Holy Ghost than any of the hundred and twenty souls gathered in the Cenacle; her desire to receive Him too was greater than theirs; and so we may well believe that she received Him in a fuller measure. She had no need of the gifts of tongues and miracles, which were a necessity to the Apostles, to help them in the beginning of their difficult work. Her work during the remaining years of her life was that of intercession, and it was to be carried on in secret and obscurity. The gifts she needed from the Holy Ghost were those of hiddenness, patience, humility, conformity to GOD'S will. She needed Him in all His plenitude to pray within her with "unutterable groanings" for all the needs of the Church throughout all time. Her work was still, as it ever had been, to _ponder_ in her heart--to meditate and hold colloquies with her Divine Son, through the agency of the Holy Spirit, about all the interests which they had in common. _Colloquy._ "Our Lady of Light, Spouse of the Holy Ghost, I offer thee my whole heart, my soul and my body, to keep for JESUS, that I may be His for ever. Our Lady of Light, pray for me." (_Prayer of Blessed Grignon de Montfort._) _Resolution._ To think more of the Holy Spirit praying within me. _Spiritual Bouquet._ "Sacrarium Spiritus Sancti, ora pro nobis." (Sanctuary of the Holy Spirit, pray for us.) Mary's Exile "_Woe is me that my sojourning is prolonged._" (Ps. cxix. 5.) _1st Prelude._ A statue or picture of Our Lady. _2nd Prelude._ Grace to learn how an exiled child of Eve should live. _Point I._--MARY'S EXILE Tradition tells us that St John took the Holy Mother to his house in Jerusalem, and that it was there that she died, though she spent some of the time of her exile at Ephesus. In solitude and silence she pondered over all the wonderful mysteries of her life; she interceded for her new-born child, the Church, which had already so many needs; and she helped the Apostles by her prayers. They were soon scattered in different directions, "making disciples of all nations," as their Master had bidden them; and it would only be at rare intervals that they could come and see their Mother, and talk over their difficulties, and get the advice of her who saw eye to eye with her Son. But what a comfort and strength it must have been to them to know that she was always there, telling her Divine Son of their needs! And during those long years--according to some opinions fifteen, to others, twenty-three--what was Mary's strength? The same as it had ever been--union with her Son. Every day, tradition tells us, she received Him in the Blessed Sacrament at the hands of St John. What Communions must those have been, when Mary said again: _Ecce ancilla Domini, fiat mihi secundum verbum tuum_, and her GOD was again incarnate within her! What made those Communions so intense? The fact that His love and desire in coming were _reciprocated_. The love and desire are never wanting on His side, but unfortunately there is so little of either on ours! It takes more than one to make a good Communion. _A joining together_ of two is the meaning of the word. If the union is to be strong, fervent, real, lasting, each must do his part. Oh, teach me, dear Mother, how to receive thy Son in Holy Communion. Thy whole life was centred in Him; thy every thought was with Him; everything thou didst was done for Him; every moment of thy exile gladly borne for Him; every sigh a spiritual Communion; and when each day the glad moment of actual Communion came, it was just His embrace--He pressed thee to His Heart for a few minutes, telling thee it would not be long before thy exile would be over, and thou wouldst see His Face again. Thy Communions were an ecstasy of love--help me to put a little more love into mine; teach me to regard them as the Bread from Heaven sent specially for the exile; teach me to make them the centre of my life; teach me to live my whole life with Him, so that my Communion may never be interrupted. This should be the aim, surely, of every communicant; it is the ideal life; it is the life that JESUS intended when He said: "He that eateth Me, he shall live by Me." It is possible; but oh, how far I come short! _Point II._--THE REASON FOR MARY'S EXILE Why did her Son leave her behind to suffer so intensely, as He well knew she would, from the separation? Would not the Beatific Vision in Heaven have been better than her Communions on earth? Could not her intercession for the Church have been even more effectual had she been close to her Son's throne in Heaven? Could she not have been the Mother of Good Counsel in Heaven for those who had to guide the Church in its infancy, as she has been ever since? We can think of many reasons why JESUS left her in exile for a time:-- 1. She had to _nurse the new-born Church_ by strengthening and encouraging the Apostles with her example, so like that of the Master Himself, and by supplying the Evangelists with many details of His life, which they could not have learnt from any lips but hers. 2. She had to _establish her position_ as Mother of the Church--the tradition was to be handed down by the Apostles that it was _she_ who guided, and tended, and cared for the Church during the early and tender years of its existence; that it was to her they turned in times of perplexity and doubt; that her constant intercession for them was their strength. This could not have been so had she left the earth with her Son. During those long years of exile the new child learnt to regard Mary as its Mother, and when she was taken away into Heaven, it was quite natural to it still thus to regard her, and to teach all who came after to do the same. 3. Our Lord would give her still more time to _increase her merits_ by suffering. He wanted her crown to be the most beautiful possible, and even for the Mother of GOD there was only one way to make it so--the way of suffering, which intensified her love and humility and submission to GOD'S will. 4. May not another reason have been in order that she might be the _better able to sympathise_ with the exiled children of Eve (_exules filii Evæ_)? Had He taken her with Him, they would surely have felt that their Mother could not quite understand their position. And what is such an effectual barrier to sympathy as the feeling that we are not understood? So Mary was left in exile to gain much that she could not have gained otherwise. I am one of the exiled children of Eve. What have _I_ got to do as an exile? 1. _I have to establish my position._ There is a certain place prepared for me in Heaven, which _may_ be mine through all eternity. What is to decide whether I get it or not? The way I "pass the time of my sojourning" here. By the time my exile is over, I must so have lived that there must be no doubt about it that I belong to the Heavenly land; that I am a child of GOD and an heir to His Kingdom; that I seek not the things of earth but those which are above; that Heaven is my Home. And what will be my position there? Mary earned her position as Queen of Angels, of Patriarchs, Prophets, Martyrs, Virgins, as Mother of the Church. What position shall I earn? That depends, as Mary's did, on my fidelity to grace. I shall have just that degree of glory and merit to which I have attained when I am called hence to give an account of my stewardship--no less and no more. The position I have to establish, then, during my exile, is that of being known by all the inhabitants of Heaven--all the Angels and Saints--as one who is sure to join them one day. "Make your calling and election _sure_." 2. _I have to suffer._ One of the actual reasons for my being here on earth is that I may _suffer_--not that suffering is in itself good, but it gives me the means--perhaps the greatest means--of developing the virtues which must be mine if I am to enter the Kingdom one day. Our Lord chose for Himself and for His Mother a life of suffering, to make us understand and to show us how suffering may aid us--yes, the very same suffering which hardens the sinner. What is the secret, then, of suffering? That by means of it, and because of it, we may make Acts of Love and Contrition and Submission to GOD'S Will. Suffering is too powerful an instrument to leave our human nature untouched by it; we _must_ do something under it--either _curse_ GOD and die, as Job's wife advised him to do, or _bless_ Him all the more fervently, as Job did. Let me remember, then, that one of the things I have to do as an exile is to see to it that GOD gets, out of each piece of suffering that He sends me, the extra _love_ that He expected would result from it. 3. _To do the work GOD wants me to do_; to work in my little corner of His vineyard; to co-operate with Him in His great work of the salvation of souls; and to show sympathy and kindness to my fellow-exiles. _Colloquy._ _The Salve Regina_:--"Hail, holy Queen, Mother of Mercy; hail, our life, our sweetness, and our hope! To thee do we cry, poor banished children of Eve; to thee do we send up our sighs, mourning, and weeping in this vale of tears. Turn then, most gracious Advocate, thine eyes of mercy towards us; and after this our exile, show unto us the blessed Fruit of thy womb, JESUS: O clement, O loving, O sweet Virgin Mary." (_Anthem from Trinity to Advent._) _Resolution._ To learn the exile's lessons. _Spiritual Bouquet._ "For we have not here a lasting city, but we seek one that is to come." (Heb. xiii. 14.) Mary's Death "_They that work by me shall not sin._" (From the Epistle for the Vigil of the Assumption, Ecclus. xxiv. 30.) _1st Prelude._ A picture of Mary's death. _2nd Prelude._ To prepare for death by living "by Mary." _Point I._--"THE STING OF DEATH IS SIN" (1 Cor. xv. 56) Sin had never touched Mary; there was therefore for her no sting in death. She had no penalty to pay, neither had she to die for others as her Son died. Why, then, should Mary die? 1. Because she had a mortal nature. She belonged to the great human race, and it was therefore appointed unto her to die. (Heb. ix. 27.) 2. Because she chose to die (the Fathers say her Son gave her the choice) that she might be conformable in all things to her Son, and also that she might be the better able to help, and pray for, and sympathise with her children, who throughout all time would be constantly saying: "Pray for us sinners now and at the hour of our death." 3. Because Our Lord wanted her to have a specially chosen death--one that came neither from old age nor sickness, but simply from _love_. Her love for Him was so great that her body could no longer hold her soul captive. 4. Because GOD would not deprive her of the inestimable privilege of making the sacrifice of her life to Him, and such a life! This practice it is which makes the death of His Saints precious in the sight of the Lord. (Ps. cxv. 15.) Let us learn two lessons:-- 1. To _choose_ to be in all things conformable to JESUS, even though this choice means death to self. 2. How precious a thing in GOD'S sight is the sacrifice of their lives to Him by His children! Let us resolve to make Him this sacrifice often beforehand--at least every night before we take from His Hands the precious gift of sleep which "He giveth His beloved." _Point II._--MARY'S PREPARATION FOR DEATH We are told that some little while before her death an Angel (probably Gabriel) was sent to tell her that her time was at hand. She answered: _Ecce ancilla Domini_ ("Behold the handmaid of the Lord"), and made once again the sacrifice of her life. She then told the news to John, who made it known to the faithful. How great their sorrow must have been at the prospect of losing such a Mother! St Denis tells us that Our Lord brought all the Apostles and missionaries, who were scattered all over the world, to witness her death. She blessed them, and encouraged them to continue their work, saying that she would help them powerfully in Heaven. Her joy was full because the time, which was to unite her to her Son, had come at last; but Mary was not selfish in her joy any more than she had been in her grief. She did not forget the sorrow of her children; they were still to be exiles, but exiles with a Mother in the Homeland--a Mother who would be there to befriend them and take an interest in all they were doing. Do I realise this--that while I am an exile here I have a Mother in Heaven who is taking the keenest interest in all that concerns me, in all that is preparing me for my Home; a Mother who is waiting there for me, ready to welcome me? _Point III._--HOW MARY DIED There was no sickness, no wearing out nor decay of that beautiful body, no effects in it of original sin. Of what, then, did Mary die? Of two things--_love_ and _desire_; and these were so intense that even _her_ body, strong and perfect though it was, had not the power to detain the soul captive any longer. Mary died of love, as her Son had died of grief--a grief which was the outcome of an immense love. Did Mary receive the Last Sacraments? The Sacrament of Penance was out of the question for her sinless soul; we may doubt about Extreme Unction; but with what intensity of love and desire must she have received her Viaticum! And when JESUS came with all His court to fetch her immaculate soul, we are told that she said: "Thy will be done; for a long time I have sighed after Thee, my Son and my GOD; nothing can be more delightful than to join Thee and be where Thou art for ever." Then the Angels began to sing--all who were present heard them--and while they sang, Mary said her _Fiat_ and died, and her most pure soul began its eternal happiness in the sight of the Beatific Vision. The Eternal Trinity gave it the glory which was its due--the reward of her love so pure, so generous, so constant. She had a higher degree of glory and a clearer vision of GOD than all the Saints, because glory depends on grace, virtue, and merit, of which she had far more than any of them. What does Mary's death say to me? "They that work by me shall not sin." You cannot be sinless, as I was, you cannot die of love, as I did, (St Theresa and St Philip of Neri did), but you can, by keeping close to me, and doing all your work at my side, keep from all wilful sin, and you can thus love JESUS so much that when He comes to fetch you, death will have no terrors for you, and you, too, will be able to say: _Ecce ancilla Domini_, Here I am, Thy servant, doing Thy work. "Blessed is that servant whom the Lord when He cometh shall find watching"; and the best way to watch is to work at Mary's side. And let me never forget that my degree of glory in Heaven will be according to the amount of grace and merit that I have at the moment of my death. How thankful I should be that I still have power to increase these! And how eager and zealous to use my time to the best advantage! Death cometh when no man can work--when no more merit, no more reparation will be possible. The point I have then reached will be mine through all eternity. "As the tree falls, so will it lie." Holy Mary, Mother of GOD, pray for me now and at the hour of my death. _Colloquy_ with Mary, my Mother in Heaven, who is pleading for me; who is letting me do all my work close to her side; and who will be there at the hour of my death, to put me back into the Hands of her Son, Who gave me to her when He was on the Cross, saying: "Take this child and nurse it for Me." And He will see to it that none shall pluck me out of His Hands, for it is impossible for a child of Mary to be lost. _Resolution._ To let love for her Son keep me close to Mary's side to-day, listening to all her directions about my work, so that I may do it to please Him. _Spiritual Bouquet._ "They that work by me shall not sin." Mary's Tomb "_I gave a sweet smell like cinnamon and aromatical balm; I yielded a sweet odour like the best myrrh._" (Ecclus. xxiv. 20.) "_In the Holy City likewise I rested, and my_ abode _is in the full assembly of the Saints._" (verses 15, 16.) _1st Prelude._ The Apostles carrying the body of their Mother to the grave. _2nd Prelude._ The grace of faith and love to penetrate into these mysteries. _Point I._--MARY'S BODY The Angels still continued singing, while the Apostles and missionaries and women wept around the body. But the heavenly music was catching, and it was not long before the mourners dried their tears and joined in the Angels' hymn of praise. We are told that the sick and the blind and the lame were allowed to come and kiss the precious body, and that in so doing they were instantly healed. Why was Mary's body so precious? Because it had been the tabernacle of the Son of GOD. Why is mine so precious? Because it, too, is so often the tabernacle of JESUS Christ. Do I realise that this makes my body holy? And do I regard it as something precious, consecrated and dedicated, GOD'S Temple, His own dwelling-place? Often have Angels adored before it! How much respect, then, ought I to show it! How careful I ought to be as to what I do with it, and to what use I put it! We are told that when the Apostles carried the bier to the grave, near the Garden of Gethsemani, all the faithful accompanied them, and the Angels never ceased their singing. The precious body exhaled a sweet fragrance which perfumed every place the procession had to pass through, and there were miracles and conversions all along the route. They laid their precious burden in the grave, put a great stone over it, and then dispersed. But they did not leave the grave alone. The Apostles watched and prayed there in turn, listening to, and rejoicing in the Angels' song. _Point II._--THE EMPTY TOMB On the third day, St Thomas arrived from the Indies (the Apostles felt sure that it was Our Lord's plan that he should be late), and naturally wanted to look once again on his Mother's face. So they removed the stone, but only to find an empty tomb. They found the linen and clothes all in order, and they noted the delicious fragrance, but the body was gone; the soul had come back for it and fetched it to share in its glory. Then the Apostles remembered that during the morning the celestial singing had suddenly stopped, and they knew that their Mother, clothed in her glorified body, was even then sitting at the Right Hand of her Son in Heaven. Why was it? Why was her body not left in the tomb? Because it was impossible for that body, from which the Word had taken Flesh, and which had never been touched by sin, to "see corruption." Also, although Mary had to die, and to bear the separation of soul and body, there was no necessity in her case for that penalty to be prolonged. GOD would not keep her--a perfect human creature--in an imperfect state, which the soul without the body must ever be. So, though not yet a dogma, the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary has ever been a belief of the Church. If we need a _proof_, let us call to mind the fact that no one has ever pretended to possess relics of Our Lady's body. Our Lord would surely never have deprived the Church of such treasures, had they existed. _Point III._--THE FOURTH GLORIOUS MYSTERY Let me turn from the empty tomb, and try to realise the other side of the picture--Mary in Heaven. This Fourth Glorious Mystery was foretold more than once in Holy Scripture: "Arise, O Lord, into Thy resting-place; Thou, and the Ark which Thou hast sanctified." (Ps. cxxxi. 8.) What is this ark sanctified by GOD but Mary's body, of which the Son of GOD took flesh? "The Queen stood on Thy Right Hand in gilded clothing surrounded with variety." Who is this but the Queen of Heaven clothed with her glorious body of immortality? "A Throne was set for the King's Mother, and she sat on His Right Hand," (3 Kings ii. 19), in all the dazzling beauty of her glorified body, surrounded by adoring Saints and Angels. Her Son on His Throne is saying to her: Ask, My Mother, for I will not say thee nay. The beauty of the scene is so entrancing, the light is so dazzling, the music is so enchanting, the mystery is so wonderful, that I feel almost bewildered and want to shut my eyes and think what it all means. It means this--that I have a Mother in Heaven, and that when her Son bends towards her from His Throne, and when all the hosts of Heaven hold their breath to catch what their Queen is saying, they hear her ask some little favour for me, her child on earth. Why? Because I am saying: "Holy Mary, Mother of GOD, pray for me now." Let me, with the eye of faith and love, penetrate the thin veil, which hides these wondrous mysteries from my sight. Let me try to see things as they really are, and then my prayers will be less formal. _Colloquy_ with Mary on the Right Hand of JESUS in Heaven. _Resolution._ To think of her there when I say my Rosary to-day. _Spiritual Bouquet._ "Holy Mary, Mother of GOD, pray for us sinners now and at the hour of our death." "Who is She?" (The Fourth Glorious Mystery) "_Quæ est ista quæ progreditur quasi aurora consurgens, pulchra ut luna, electa ut sol, terribilis ut castrorum acies ordinata?_" "_Who is she that cometh forth as the morning rising, fair as the moon, bright as the sun, terrible as an army set in array?_" (Cant. vi. 9.) _1st Prelude._ The Angels asking three times: "Who is she?" (Cant. iii. 6; vi. 9; viii. 5.) _2nd Prelude._ Grace to understand who she is. _Point I._--"WHO IS SHE?" "Who is she?" ask the Angels, as they see Mary coming into Heaven. Once before had One clothed in the robe of His beautiful, glorified Body passed through Heaven's portals; and the Angels had said: "Who is this that cometh with dyed garments from Bosra, this beautiful One in His robe?" (Isaias lxiii. 1), and they had opened wide Heaven's gate to let in the Conqueror of sin and death, the King of glory, the Lord mighty in battle. But who is _she_--a woman, who, though she is beautiful as the morning rising, fair as the moon, and bright as the sun, is also terrible as an army set in array? She also has come from the battlefield; she also is a conqueror, for she has crushed the serpent's head; she has undone Eve's terrible work, and, as far as a creature can, has made reparation for it. She it is who has stood like a rock amidst the most crushing sorrows. Her strength is terrible to the devil, but the Angels rejoice in it, and her children flee to her as the _Refugium peccatorum_, saying: _Da mihi virtutem contra hostes tuos_. (Give me, too, strength against thy enemies.) And so the Angels open wide Heaven's gates again, to let in the Mother of the King--the Queen of Heaven--_their_ Queen--who has earned her right to her throne; not by being the Mother of GOD, but by nobly fighting the battle against sin, the world, the flesh, and the devil. "Maria Mater gratiæ, Dulcis Parens clementiæ, Tu nos ab hoste protege, Et mortis hora suscipe." (O Mary, Mother of grace, sweet fount of gentleness, do thou protect us from the enemy, and receive us in the hour of our death.) And she _will_; she is there for her children. "Who is she?" She is our Mother; she will never forget it, though she is the Queen of Heaven, of Angels, and of Saints; and she will ever be terrible to all who dare to attack her children. _Point II._--"WHO IS SHE?" "Who is she that goeth up by the desert as a pillar of smoke, of aromatical spices, of myrrh and frankincense, and of all the powders of the perfumer?" (Cant. iii. 6.) That is: Who is she who is adorned with all possible graces and virtues? "Who is she?" She is the "fairest among women" (chap. i. 7) because of her _humility_, answers the Angel who heard her say: _Ecce ancilla Domini_, at the most exalted moment of her life. "Who is she?" She is the "fairest among women" because of her conformity to GOD'S will, say those who have heard over and over again her _Fiat_ when the sword was piercing her soul. "Who is she?" We, too, can answer the question, for we know her. We have watched her, and meditated upon her life, from the moment of her Immaculate Conception till her holy death of love and desire; and we have seen that she has always been growing in grace and in conformity to her Divine Son. Yes, she is the "fairest among women," and she is my Mother and my model. How is it with me? Am I known to my friends, to those who live with me, to my Guardian Angel, yea, to the Blessed Trinity, as one, who is growing in virtue and grace; as one, whose conformity to JESUS and His will, is apparent from the use I make of the _Ecce ancilla_ and the _Fiat_? There must be some resemblance between the child and the Mother. _Point III._--"WHO IS SHE?" For the third time the Angels ask the question: "Who is she that cometh up from the desert flowing with delights, leaning upon her Beloved?" (chap. viii. 5.) There is no doubt about it now--she is His Mother, and her Beloved is JESUS, the Son of GOD and of Mary. What unspeakable joy is hers to find herself once more in the arms of her Beloved! "His left hand is under my head, and His right hand shall embrace me," (chap. ii. 6), and she leans upon Him. She had never left Him really; she had been leaning on Him all the time of her exile: by her memory, by her love, by her Communions, by her constant doing of His will. This is why I can so safely lean on Mary, the Mother of Good Counsel, because to lean on her is to lean on JESUS, on Whom she leans. She nurses her children _for Him_. "Who is she that cometh up from the desert?" In spirit Mary had ever been coming up. Always had she sought "the things that are above, where Christ sitteth at the right hand of GOD." Her treasure was in Heaven, and nothing on earth had power to attract or attach her. How far do I copy my Mother in this? Are my affections set on things above, where JESUS and Mary are? Have things of earth no attraction for me in comparison with heavenly things? Am I ready to give them up to Him to Whom they belong when He asks for them? Is my whole heart in Heaven because my treasure is there? This is what is meant by going up from the desert. It means striving always after what is more perfect. It means that each day finds me _more_ charitable, _more_ faithful, _more_ careful about occasions of sin, _more_ like my Mother. And it means also _Sursum corda_ (Lift up your hearts) whenever the difficulties and sorrows of the desert seem too much. _Colloquy_ with Mary. _Resolution._ To ask myself the question often to-day: "Who is she?" _Spiritual Bouquet._ "Pulchra es et decora filia Jerusalem, terribilis ut castrorum acies ordinata." (Thou art fair and comely, O Daughter of Jerusalem, terrible as an army set in array.) Mary's Coronation (The Fifth Glorious Mystery) "_Thou wast made exceeding beautiful and wast advanced to be a Queen._" (Ezech. xvi. 13.) _1st Prelude._ The great sign which appeared in Heaven: "A woman clothed with the sun, and the moon under her feet, and on her head a crown of twelve stars." (Apoc. xii. 1.) _2nd Prelude._ The grace so to live and die, that I may one day be crowned. _Point I._--MARY'S CORONATION _Specie tua et pulchritudine tua, intende, prospere procede, et regna._ (In thy comeliness and thy beauty go forth, proceed prosperously, and reign.) The culminating point is reached, and Mary is led in triumph to receive her crown from the Blessed Trinity. GOD the Father crowns her as a _Victor_; GOD the Son as a _Queen_; and GOD the Holy Ghost as a _Bride_. We give our crowns on earth to victors, to queens and to brides. Mary was all of these for she had conquered the devil; she was the King's Mother, and she was the spouse of the Holy Ghost. 1. She was crowned as a _Victor_, as a sign of her courage and bravery. GOD the Father had seen the world, which He had created and had pronounced to be "very good," spoiled by sin. The Arch-fiend had entered Paradise, and had stolen away the hearts of His children, robbing them of His grace, and leaving them and all their descendants stained by sin. To Satan GOD had spoken of a woman whose Child would be his enemy; and of her He said: "She shall bruise thy head." Now the old prophecy has been fulfilled, and Mary stands before Him waiting for her crown. She has crushed the serpent; she has been terrible to all GOD'S enemies; and the crown that the Eternal Father places on the head of His daughter is a token that she is indeed a Victor. How did Mary win the Victor's crown? By her fidelity to grace. No one ever had so many occasions of grace, and she did not miss one of them. "There _is_," somewhere in the heavenly courts, "a crown laid up for _me_." (2 Tim. iv. 8.) But "the Lord, the just Judge" will only give it me if "I have fought a good fight." (verse 7.) "To him that shall _overcome_ will I give to sit with Me in My Throne." (Apoc. iii. 21). "Be thou faithful unto death, and I will give thee a crown of life." (chap. ii. 10.) "Hold fast that which thou hast, that no man take thy crown" (chap. iii. 11). All, then, depends on my efforts. I have got to be _faithful_, to _fight_, to _overcome_, and to _hold fast_. My consolation is that my Mother is interceding for me; my enemies are the same as hers, and she has overcome them. _Da mihi virtutem contra hostes tuos._ 2. She is crowned as a _Queen_. Her Son is the King of Heaven, and He crowns her as the Queen-Mother. "A throne was set for the King's Mother, and she sat on His Right Hand." (3 Kings ii. 19.) "The Queen stood at Thy Right Hand in gilded clothing, clothed round about with varieties." (Ps. xliv. 14.) Kings and Queens wear their crowns in token of their power and authority. JESUS crowned His Mother in token of _her_ power and authority. He made her Queen of Angels, of Patriarchs, Prophets, Apostles, Martyrs, Confessors, Virgins, and gave her not only authority over all these, but also, in a certain sense, if we may say so reverently, over Himself. He allowed her still to keep the sweet authority which she had exercised over Him at Nazareth, when He was "subject" to her; for He says to her: "My Mother, ask, for I _must_ not turn away thy face." (3 Kings ii. 20.) How He loves us--even to the extent of pledging Himself to answer the intercessory prayer of one who He knows will make full use of her privilege--one who is even now turning to me, her child, and saying: "I will speak for thee to the King." (verse 18). Let me determine to have my share in this blessed compact between the Son and the Mother, by continually asking my Queen-Mother for her intercession. _Sancta Dei Genitrix, ora pro nobis._ 3. The Holy Ghost crowns her as His _Spouse_. "Come from Libanus, my spouse; come and thou shalt be crowned." (Cant. iv. 8.) "Faithful unto death" she had been; ever since her Immaculate Conception she had always listened to the least inspiration of grace which her Divine Spouse had suggested, and now she receives her reward, the "crown of life." The end is attained, and there is joy in the presence of the Angels of GOD. _Point II._--THE JOY OF THE ANGELS _De cujus Assumptione gaudent Angeli et collaudant Filium Dei._ At whose Assumption the Angels rejoice and praise together the Son of GOD. (_Introit for the Feast of the Assumption._) What were the causes of their joy? 1. Mary's joy at her re-union with her Son. 2. Her reception and coronation as their Queen. 3. Her being placed on the throne at her Son's Right Hand. 4. The sight of her beautiful glorified body--the means of the Incarnation--before which, as before the Tabernacle, they had so often worshipped their hidden GOD. 5. The likeness between the Mother and the Son--a likeness which had been increasing during her years of exile, by means of the Blessed Sacrament. 6. Hearing JESUS call her _Mother_. "My Mother, ask." 7. Seeing the great Intercessor at her work praying for sinners, in whom they take such an interest. And the result of their joy is that "they praise together the Son of GOD"--that is, they perfectly fulfil the end for which they were created, teaching us the great lesson that the more we know Mary and rejoice in her joy, her position and her work, the more we shall know and praise her Divine Son, and so fulfil the end for which we were created. But it is not only the Angels who are rejoicing. She is "_Queen of all Saints_" as well as "_Queen of Angels_," and the Church Triumphant is swelling the chorus of joy. Each member of that spotless multitude has already been a cause of joy in Heaven, for there is joy in the presence of the Angels of GOD over every sinner that doeth penance. (St Luke xv. 7.) "Joy cometh in the morning" after the night of doing penance. "No cross, no crown." It is because Mary is the "_Mother of Sorrows_" that she is able to be the "_Cause of our joy_," and we must all pass by the same route. Help me, my Mother, to share the joy of the Angels and Saints even in the "valley of tears." It is possible, but it can only be done by a faith strong enough to see things as they really are. And what about Mary's joy? As she stands in the midst of that great multitude of Angels and Saints, who are vying with each other to do her honour, her heart too is overflowing with joy, but it is all for her Son. The honour and worship that are being paid to her are _His_; they are because of "the great things _He_ has done" for her. She is only His handmaid, and she is always singing her _Magnificat_: "My soul doth magnify the Lord, my spirit doth _rejoice_ in GOD my Saviour." _Humility_ is ever her greatest virtue, and she shows it on her Coronation Day by casting her crown at the Feet of Him Who redeemed her with His Blood--her Son, her Saviour, and her GOD. _Colloquy._ The _Ave Regina Cælorum_:--"Hail, Queen of Heaven! Hail, Lady of the Angels! Hail, blessed root and gate, from which came light upon the world! Rejoice, O glorious Virgin, that surpassest all in beauty! Hail, most lovely Queen! and pray to Christ for us." (_Anthem from Purification to Easter._) _Resolution._ To work for my crown to-day. _Spiritual Bouquet._ "Ora pro nobis, Sancta Dei Genitrix, ut digni efficiamur promissionibus Christi." Salve Regina (According to the Second Method of Prayer[1]) SALVE. This anthem of the Blessed Virgin, which the Church bids her children use from Trinity to Advent, begins with a _salutation_. In addressing our Mother, we are to copy the Archangel who, when he came with a message to the lowly child at Nazareth, begins by _saluting_ her. Hail! full of grace. But though the word, which is here put into the lips of us sinners, means, "Be thou safe and well," it is not a wholly disinterested salutation; there is an idea of wanting a favour implied in it, though we do not actually ask for it. It is like the cheerful "Good-morning, sir!" of the beggar. Our _Hail_ here has not so much the majesty of the salutation of an Archangel as the cry of distress of a banished child. REGINA. She is appealed to as a Queen; she asks as a Queen; she is answered as a Queen; she gives as a Queen. "I pray thee speak to the King, for he cannot deny thee anything.... I will speak for thee to the King.... And the King arose to meet her, and bowed to her, and sat down upon his throne. And a throne was set for the King's Mother, and she sat on his right hand. And she said to him: I desire one small petition of thee; do not put me to confusion. And the King said to her: My Mother, ask, for I must not turn away thy face." (3 Kings ii. 17-20.) Such is the beautiful picture Holy Scripture portrays for us of King Solomon and his mother Bethsabee. "But a greater than Solomon is here"; and we are addressing His Mother. With what confidence then may we say our _Salve Regina_! She has pledged herself to speak to the King for us, and her Royal Son will give her all that she asks. She is the Queen of Patriarchs, Prophets, Apostles, Martyrs, Confessors, Virgins--yes, Queen of _all_ Saints. Why? Because when they were "poor banished children" on earth they recognised her as their Queen, and did not address their _Salve_ to her in vain. MATER. Not only is she Queen of Heaven and my Queen, but also she is the Mother of each one of the banished children. "I will not leave you orphans," JESUS said when He was leaving the sorrowing disciples; and a little later, when His last moment drew near, He showed them their Mother, saying to St John, who represented the whole human race: "Behold thy Mother!" and to her: "Behold thy son," and in him all thy banished children! What a consolation it would be to me if I realised more that I have a Mother in Heaven! My first thought in any trouble, difficulty, or perplexity would be: "Salve sancta Parens!" MISERICORDIÆ. She is the Mother of so many virtues--of fair love, of knowledge, of good counsel, of holy hope, of divine grace--yes, and the Mother of Sorrows too; but here her children love to call her "Mother of _mercy_," of _pity_, for they are exiles, and it is she who can effect their ransom. _Mercy_--this is what they who say the _Salve Regina_ need. They are poor, banished, weeping children, and they need the pity, the mercy, the sympathy of their Mother. How comes it that there is no sorrow with which the Heart of Mary cannot sympathise? How is it that "never is it heard of that her children turn to her in vain"? Because the "sword pierced her own heart also." No heart except that of her Divine Son can sympathise like the seven-times pierced heart of Mary. It is because she understands so well the sorrows of a bleeding heart, that not the smallest need of any one of her smallest children, who appeals to her, is overlooked. How merciful should they be who have such a merciful Mother! "Go thou and do in like manner," was our Blessed Lord's injunction when He had been telling of the mercy of the Good Samaritan. (St Luke x. 37.) Am I merciful in my judgments of others; merciful when I am talking of them; merciful to those who have wronged me; merciful to those who come to me for pardon; merciful in my thoughts? O Virgin most merciful, pray for me! VITA. She is our _life_, for it was she who gave life to our Redeemer. It was from Mary's veins that He took the Blood which He shed for our salvation. She did not spare her Son, her only Son, (Gen. xxii. 16), but offered Him up for a sacrifice for us. In every truth she can say: "In me is all hope of life." (Ecclus. xxiv. 25.) DULCEDO. Our sweetness. Think of her sweetness all through her life--when the Angel came to her; during the three months that she helped Elizabeth; when there was no room for her in the inn at Bethlehem; when her Son seemed to take no notice of her during His ministerial work; when she met Him on the Way of Sorrows; when she stood by the Cross; when she gently bathed His wounds and prepared His Body for the grave; when she consoled the mourning disciples; when He appeared to her on Easter Day; when she kissed His footprints as He ascended to Heaven; when the Holy Ghost came down upon her. Even from her body after the soul had left it, and even from her grave after the body had left it, there came a delicious odour, reminding all who enjoyed it of the _sweetness_ of the Mother who had left them. And this sweetness her children must try to copy. Is my sweetness for ever proclaiming itself to all with whom I come in contact--by my patience under the little trials of everyday life, by the kind word with which I meet the sharp, sarcastic one, by my extreme care of the feelings of others, by my universal kindness, by the humility with which I bear humiliations, by the ready way in which I prefer everybody else to myself? O my Mother, pray for thy child, and teach me how to copy thee! ET SPES NOSTRA. How necessary is _hope_ to the poor banished children! Without it they would indeed be in a desperate condition; but Mary is ever inspiring them with hope. _Ego Mater sanctæ spei._ (I am the Mother of holy hope.) And her hope is all for her children: she has no need of it for herself. She is a true Mother--always hopeful of her children, never giving them up. It is impossible for a child of Mary not to share her Mother's holy hope. A child of Mary _cannot_ despair! When we think about death and final perseverance, what holy hope at once fills our hearts as we remember that we have put that terrible moment into the hands of our Mother! _Ora pro nobis, nunc et in hora mortis nostræ._ (Pray for us now and at the hour of our death.) "Hail, our hope!" Before these words all fears disappear. For never has it been known that those who appeal to the Mother of holy hope appeal in vain. SALVE. We repeat our salutation. We do not want her to forget us. The importunate are ever dear to the heart of Mary as they are to the Heart of her Divine Son. Let us constantly greet her with our _Salve_--it will be enough to appeal to her Mother-heart, and she will give us whatever we are needing. AD TE. To _thee_. To whom should we go if not to the Mother whom JESUS has given us. "Behold thy Mother!" It is only natural that we should turn to thee. _Monstra te esse matrem._ Show thyself to be a mother by hearkening to our cry. CLAMAMUS--_do we cry_. It is a direct cry for help now--we make no secret of it--the children are calling aloud for their Mother--their need is so great that they care not who hears them. EXULES. At last we describe ourselves; one word is sufficient--_exules_. We are _exiles_; we are not at home; we are banished from our country. There is something so pathetic about an exile. How he cherishes any news of his dear country! How he writes every little detail of his life and of the strange land to his mother at home! How he longs for her letters! Mary is my Mother, and I am an exile. Do I love to hear about my own country? Do I tell my Mother of all the difficulties of the way and allow her to console me with stories of the Homeland? "How shall we sing in a strange land?" It _is_ possible, by keeping in touch with Mary. She will so inspire us with hope and with love for our heavenly country that we shall often find our hearts light enough to soar beyond this land of exile, and to join in the ceaseless praises of those who have reached home. Queen of Heaven, give me a _real_ desire for Heaven. FILII EVÆ. We account for our exile by explaining that we are children of _Eve_. We had another mother once, and she brought misery on all her children, and they were all with her "driven out from Paradise," and an angel with a flaming sword was put at the entrance to prevent their getting back. Poor children! Is there any use in crying for re-admittance? Yes, for before the justice of GOD drove out Eve and her children, He spoke of another Mother, who was, through her Divine Son, to undo all the harm that Eve had done, and to "open the Kingdom of Heaven to all believers." To whom, then, is it more natural for the poor banished children of Eve to turn than to the Mother whose one idea is to get them back? And with our cries are joined those of other banished children whose cry: "How long!" is ever ascending to Heaven. It is their Mother Mary whom they long to see; for as the turn of each one's banishment expires, she it is who comes to open the gate and bring them to the "better country" which they have so long desired. When we say our _Salve_, let us remember those souls who, though they are holy, are still banished children, and let us intercede with their Mother for them. AD TE SUSPIRAMUS. To thee do we send up our sighs. The idea is that each breath is a sigh, and a sigh meant for our Mother to hear. Well would it be for us if this were true! It would change the character of our exile. A sigh meant for Our Blessed Lady could not be one of discontent and murmuring and rebellion against our lot. The very fact that it is intended for her would make it full of love and hope and submission to GOD'S will. It would be like the sigh of a child whose mother has promised it some little pleasure. The time seems very long to the little one, and as she sits patiently by her mother's side, a sigh escapes her now and then--a very marked and intentional sigh! What does it mean? It means that though she will not speak or do anything that her mother might not like, yet she would remind her mother of her presence and let her know that she is feeling the time very long. Does the mother mind the sighs? Oh no, for each one tells her of the love of her child, and makes her anxious to shorten the time of waiting if she can. GEMENTES ET FLENTES. The sighs become more audible--_groaning_ and _weeping_--the exiles are _mourning_ the loss of things they can never have again till they get home. It is one of the times when they feel that the harps must be hung up, (Ps. cxxxvi.), when mirth and joy are altogether out of place. Such times will come in our land of exile; and these are the times when we shall do well to cry out to our Mother. O Mary, look upon thy weeping children, and as the great wail of suffering humanity rises up to thee, "show thyself a Mother," the Mother of Consolation. Come to the suffering hearts that cry for thee, and make them understand that joy and gladness is for them, even in the land of their exile ever since the Sun of justice has risen over it "with healing in His wings." Whisper to each heartbroken one, words of hope and consolation; tell of reparation, of mortification, of detachment, of the immense value of suffering, till the sorrowing heart is willing, yea _glad_, to suffer. IN HOC LACRYMARUM VALLE. In this _vale_. Our land of exile is a Valley of Humiliation. It was here that JESUS came to stay, when He _humbled_ Himself even to the death of the Cross; and here it is that He would have each one of His children wait till the humiliations of the valley have taught them to conquer self-love. "Be you humbled, therefore, under the mighty hand of GOD, that He may exalt you in the time of visitation." (1 Pet. v. 6.) It is a vale of _tears_--a vale where JESUS wept; a vale which has been sanctified by the tears of a Magdalen, and a Peter, and of multitudes of others who have learnt here to be saints; a vale where every tear shed by His children is treasured by GOD. "Thou hast set my tears in Thy sight." (Ps. lv. 9.) We read of two occasions on which JESUS wept--once for the sorrows of His friends (St John xi. 35), and once for the sins of His enemies. (St Luke xix. 41.) I need not then be ashamed of tears--not even if I have to say with the Psalmist: "My tears have been my bread day and night." (Ps. xli. 4.) But I must be careful that they resemble those of JESUS, that the cause of them is never self-love or self-pity, but sorrow for my own sins and those of others, and for anything which grieves the Heart of JESUS. "They that sow in tears shall reap in joy," for He Himself "will wipe away all tears from their eyes." (Ps. cxxv. 5, and Apoc. vii. 17.) EIA ERGO ADVOCATA NOSTRA. _Therefore_, just because of our misery and need--it is our only plea, and one which appeals more than any other to a Mother's heart--we appeal to her as _our Advocate_: one who will plead our cause, who will speak to the King for us and tell Him of our needs, as she did long ago at Cana of Galilee. Had ever banished children such an advocate--one to whom the Judge has pledged Himself: "I must not turn away thy face!" O _Advocata nostra_, plead for me with thy Son when I stand before Him to be judged! In that terrible moment remember my _Salve_, for I shall be unable to say it then. MISERICORDES OCULOS AD NOS CONVERTE. _Turn thy merciful eyes upon us._ We only ask her to _look_. It is quite enough for a mother to see her child in trouble. She does not need to be told what to do. ET JESUM BENEDICTUM FRUCTUM VENTRIS TUI NOBIS POST HOC EXILIUM OSTENDE. Here we get to the point of the prayer--the sighs, and groans, and cries, and tears of the banished children are all because they want to see JESUS. _And after this our exile show unto us the Blessed Fruit of thy womb, JESUS._ "We would see JESUS" (St John xii. 21), and we come to ask His Mother to show Him to us. This is her great work; and she turns to the children and says: "Whatsoever He shall say to you, do ye," and you shall see His Face one day. _After this our exile._ "When the voyage is o'er, O stand on the shore And show Him at last to me." It is because I cannot see JESUS that I am so often in trouble in the land of exile. If my faith were strong enough I should see Him continually, and sorrow would flee away. We have not got to wait till the voyage is o'er before seeing Him. Many and many a glimpse of the Blessed Fruit of her womb does our Mother give us. To be near her means that we are near Him too. Each Communion, each absolution--yea, each humiliation and sorrow is our Mother letting us see JESUS if we will only look; and when she stands on the shore to show Him _at last_, we shall see that it is the "same JESUS" Who so often walked with us in the land of our exile, though our eyes were for the most part holden by our want of faith, and we did not recognise Him. O CLEMENS, O PIA, O DULCIS VIRGO MARIA. _O clement, O loving, O sweet Virgin Mary._ We multiply our words in trying to express to our Mother something of what we feel towards her, but they all mean the same thing--that she is a _Mother_. Her sweetness is as ointment poured forth, and attracts all to it. Her kindness and love, too, have been known to all since she stood at the Foot of the Cross, and received all her banished children into her stricken heart. Never in vain can we appeal to our sweet Mother. And so with renewed confidence we will say our _Salve_, rejoicing even in this vale of tears because we have a Mother who knows all about us, and who will never forget us; whose one desire is to show us the Blessed Fruit of her womb, JESUS; who will teach us to sing the Lord's song in a strange land, even as she sang her _Magnificat_; and who will one day, when the days of our exile are over, sing with us the ever "new song" of Redemption to "Him Who loved us and washed us in His Blood." Till then, dear Mother, help us to be patient, and help us to learn the lessons of the valley, remembering that they will never be learned at all if they are not learned here. _Colloquy._ The _Salve Regina_. FOOTNOTE: [Footnote 1: _Note._--There are times when we get a little tired of Preludes and Points, and feel that a change of method would be a help to our Meditation. St Ignatius knew this, and knew also that to some minds Preludes and Points would be a positive hindrance; and so he has given us, in his book of the _Spiritual Exercises_, "Three (other) methods of prayer." Our Meditation to-day is according to the _Second Method_, which "consists in considering the signification of each word of a prayer." (Text of the _Exercises_.) St Ignatius says that if one or two words give us sufficient matter for thought and spiritual relish and consolation, we are not to be anxious to pass on, even though the whole time of the Meditation be spent on _one_ word, but leave the rest till the next day. So we may take to-day as many words of the _Salve Regina_ as we find spiritual relish for. This method, St Ignatius tells us, may be applied to "_any other prayer whatsoever_."] _Dei Genitrix, intercede pro nobis._ PRINTED IN GREAT BRITAIN BY NEILL AND CO., LTD., EDINBURGH. * * * * * Transcriber's Notes: Obvious spelling and punctuation errors were repaired, but unusual period spellings and grammar uses were retained. Original placed punctuation such as semi-colons outside closing quotation marks; this was retained. Table of Contents entries do not always agree with chapter headings in the original; these differences were retained. Gospel references throughout the main text begin with "St" as in "St Luke." In two exceptions--P. 23 and 97--the "St" was missing and has been added by the transcriber for consistency. The preface, by a different author, does not use "St" before gospel references. A few uses of "God" were left out of small-caps in the original. These were placed in small-caps to agree with majority use. Three uses of "ch." were changed to match three uses of "chap." for consistency. P. 53: Transcriber added a paragraph break between "sacrifices." and (1) for consistent treatment of numbered paragraphs. Blocking of numbered paragraphs on P. 70-71 and 73 is faithful to the original. 
38380	----	THE TWO TESTS: THE SUPERNATURAL CLAIMS OF CHRISTIANITY TRIED BY TWO OF ITS OWN RULES. By Lionel Lisle "The axe is laid unto the root of the tree." 1877 WILLIAMS AND NORGATE, 14 HENRIETTA STREET, COVENT GARDEN, LONDON; AND 20 SOUTH FREDERICK STREET, EDINBURGH. TO THE READER. "The following treatise was not originally written for publication; but as it faithfully represents the process by which the minds of some, brought up in reverence and affection for the Christian faith, were relieved from the vague state of doubt that resulted on their cherished beliefs being overthrown or shaken by the course of modern thought, it has been suggested that it may, perhaps, be useful to others in the same position. Although their hold on the reason and intellect may have been lost or weakened, still the supernatural authority, the hopes, and the terrors of the gospel continue to cling to the heart and conscience, until they are effectually dislodged by considerations of mightier mastery over the heart and conscience. 'The strong man armed keepeth his palace' until the stronger appears. Then the whole faculties, mental and moral, are set free, and brought into accord in the cause of Truth."--Preface to the First Issue. Some of the _principles_ of inquiry into the truth or falsehood of the Christian evidences laid down by the ablest divines of the last generation are wholly admirable in themselves, viewed apart from the _application_ of them by these divines. Dr. Chalmers, for instance, whose single-mindedness in devotion to truth and right was on a level with his mighty intellect and strong and clear perceptions, held: "There is a class of men who may feel disposed to overrate its evidences, because they are anxious to give every support and stability to a system which they conceive to be most intimately connected with the dearest hopes and wishes of humanity; because their imagination is carried away by the sublimity of its doctrines, or their heart engaged by that amiable morality which is so much calculated to improve and adorn the face of society. Now, we are ready to admit, that as the object of the inquiry is not the character but the truth of Christianity, the philosopher should be careful to protect his mind from the delusion of its charms. He should separate the exercises of the understanding from the tendencies of the fancy or of the heart. He should be prepared to follow the light of evidence, though it may lead him to conclusions the most painful and melancholy. He should train his mind to all the hardihood of abstract and unfeeling intelligence. He should give up everything to the supremacy of argument, and be able to renounce, without a sigh, all the tenderest prepossessions of infancy, the moment that truth demands of him the sacrifice." Dr. Chalmers would evidently see no beauty in moral precepts apart from the truth of the testimony to the authority on which they rest. Again he wrote: "With them" (his own class of Christians) "the argument is adduced to a narrower compass. Is the testimony of the apostles and first Christians sufficient to establish the credibility of the facts which are recorded in the New Testament? The question is made to rest exclusively on the character of this testimony, and the circumstances attending it, and no antecedent theory of their own is suffered to mingle with the investigation. If the historical evidence of Christianity is found to be conclusive they conceive the investigation to be at an end, and that nothing remains on their part but an act of unconditional submission to all its doctrines.... We profess ourselves to belong to the latter description of Christians. We hold by the insufficiency of Nature to pronounce upon the intrinsic merits of any revelation, and think that the authority of every revelation rests mainly upon its historical and experimental evidences, and upon such marks of honesty in the composition itself as would apply to any human performance." And in another portion of the same work: "We are not competent to judge of the conduct of the Almighty in given circumstances. Here we are precluded by the nature of the subject from the benefit of observation. There is no antecedent experience to guide or to enlighten us. It is not for man to assume what is right or proper or natural for the Almighty to do. It is not in the mere spirit of piety that we say so: it is in the spirit of the soundest experimental philosophy." Elsewhere he prefers the atheist, or what would now be called the agnostic, to the deist, who, rejecting revelation, professes belief in a God fashioned according to the constitution of his own mind. The question may, with clearness perhaps, be thus stated: Religion, in its true and highest sense, is the endeavour of man to place himself in a right position to the Power and to the laws of the Universe. If that Power has spoken audibly to man, in man's language, and revealed what that right position is, we must take the message as it has been given, and implicitly submit to and be guided by it. Dr. Chalmers, on the soundest truth-seeking principles, but, as I venture to think, with imperfect knowledge, and contrary to what his conclusions would have been had he lived now, decided that there was evidence that the Power of the Universe had spoken audibly to man, by a special messenger from on high--the very Son of God. The effect, therefore, on him was, as he states, "unconditional submission." But if the Power of the Universe has not spoken audibly to man, in man's language, then, on the same principles, there is no other position towards that Power, possible to man, than simply one of Agnosticism. _What_ that Power is no one can tell. The theological method--that of authority resting on revelation and supernatural power--is gone; but the laws of the Universe remain,--the laws of God, whatever God may be. Man's knowledge of and right position towards these laws will then depend solely on political, social, and scientific methods of research. In this case the truly religious man will be he who rejects authority and theological methods and doctrine, and follows with "unconditional submission" the teachings of the widest experience. In marked, and in my view unfavourable, contrast with the principles of Dr. Chalmers, the recent address of Dean Stanley to the students of St. Andrews urges: "There is a well-known saying of St. Augustine, in one of his happiest moods, which expressed this sense of proportion long ago: '_We believe the miracles for the sake of the Gospels, not the Gospels for the sake of the miracles_' Fill your minds with this saying, view it in all its consequences, observe how many maxims both of the Bible and of philosophy conform to it, and you will find yourselves in a position which will enable you to treat with equanimity half the perplexities of this subject." Here "equanimity," quite apart from their truth or falsehood, is commended towards marvels, _vouched as eye-witnessed facts_, for the sake of the Gospels. (See my remarks, pp. 86, 87, par. commencing Paul 1.) Another instance, in a quite different profession, of a mind guided by a principle similar to that of Dr. Chalmers is presented by the illustrious philosopher, Mr. Faraday. One of a small body of Christians knit together in bands of love and peace, and himself the very embodiment of that high morality and love of kind, so much preached about however practised, no question appears to have crossed his mind as to the validity of the evidences on which the gospel claims rest; but, hating pretence and ever loyal to truth, he saw, with habitual clearness of judgment, that a revelation, dealing with what man cannot himself discover, must be taken, if true, implicitly as delivered. In his lecture on Mental Education before Prince Albert, in the year 1854, he said: "High as man is placed above the creatures around him, there is a higher and far more exalted position within his view; and the ways are infinite in which he occupies his thoughts about the fears, or hopes, or expectations of a future life. I believe that the truth of that future cannot be brought to his knowledge by any exertion of his mental powers, however exalted they may be; that it is made known to him by other teaching than his own, and is received through simple belief of the testimony given. Let no one suppose for a moment that the self-education I am about to commend in respect of the things of this life, extends to any considerations of the hope set before us, as if man by reasoning could find out God. It would be improper here to enter into this subject further than to claim an absolute distinction between religious and ordinary belief. I shall be reproached with the weakness of refusing to apply those mental operations, which I think good in respect of high things, to the very highest. I am content to bear the reproach. Yet, even in earthly matters, I believe that the invisible things of Him from the creation of the world are clearly seen, being understood by the things that are made, even his eternal Power and Godhead; and I have never seen anything incompatible between those things of man which can be known by the spirit of man which is within him, and those higher things concerning his future which he cannot know by that spirit." So that of himself, apart from revelation, Mr. Faraday's position was agnostic. Had he seen reason to reject revelation he would not have been a deist, any more than Dr. Chalmers. There is an Eternal Power, but _what it is_ man cannot divine. Of God or of a future state man himself can tell nothing. And the reproach from the votaries of most popular religions, which Mr. Faraday refers to, will apply equally to the agnostic who submits to revelation with his "simple belief," and to the agnostic who sees reason to reject it. Nothing would have been more utterly abhorrent to Mr. Faraday than to have his name paraded and referred to, as a Christian, in the sense in which it is alluded to in such books as the _Unseen Universe_, or, since his death, by many of the clergy in their sermons. Any communications, from those interested in the subject of this treatise, addressed to me, care of the Publishers, will be gladly received and attended to. L. L. 1st July, 1877. INTRODUCTION. 1. The belief, concerning the position of mankind in this world and the next, held by the various Christians, who cling to the Old and New Testaments as the one inspired and infallible revelation of the mind and purpose of an Almighty, may be briefly summed up thus:--That the whole human race, because of the disobedience of Adam, is fallen from its original righteousness, and is under condemnation for transgression of the law or will of God; whether as Jews, to whom the law was given in certain forms of words or as Gentiles, who have the law, the knowledge of right and wrong, written on their consciences: that the eternal justice of God requires the eternal punishment of sin: that thus no escape being possible from the consequences of guilt, the result of Adam's disobedience and their own depravity, the whole human race must have perished, had it not been that God in love, and in order that he might place himself in a position to pardon sin in a way that would be consistent with eternal justice, sent his Son--the sole-begotten--into the world, who became incarnate in the person of Jesus of Nazareth: that Jesus fulfilled the will of God in his life: that his death by crucifixion has been accounted by God a full atonement for the sins of all who believe on him and his fulfilment of the law as if it had been their fulfilment: that by his atonement and righteousness they are thus restored to the divine favour: that Jesus rose from the dead on the third day: that he ascended into heaven: that he is now there waiting until all who are ordained unto eternal life shall, in course of time, be born, when he will return to earth in the glory and power of heaven: that then those who have believed in him will be raised from the dead, or, if not dead, will receive an incorruptible body and a purified mind: that the new heavens and the new earth, wherein dwelleth righteousness, shall then be inaugurated: that risen mankind, who have believed on Jesus, will thenceforth enjoy eternal bliss in direct communion with God: that those of mankind who have not believed in Jesus will also be raised from the dead, but, their sins being unatoned for, they will be punished with everlasting banishment from the presence of God: that the doom in each case will be irrevocable, everlasting. 2. The conception of the Almighty, in relation to fallen man, formed in the minds of many believers, is that of a king dealing with rebel subjects who are equally guilty, and whose lives are equally forfeit. He shows mercy to whom he will--those who are thus favoured having no right to this grace; and whom he will he leaves to deserved death--those thus left having no right to complain of the pardon of the others, as their own doom would have been the same whether the others were spared or not. Other believers, again, rather conceive the Almighty to be in the position of a gracious benefactor, offering pardon through the merits of Jesus to any one who chooses to accept of it, the pardon not to take effect unless the sinner accepts it by acquiescing in the divine plan of salvation. And among the numerous sects into which believers are divided through opposing interpretations of various passages of the Bible, other conceptions of the Almighty and modifications of the foregoing statement of belief will be found. But all, or almost all, agree in dividing mankind into the believing and the unbelieving, the elect and the non-elect, the sheep and the goats, the saved and the lost. Many Christians maintain that the atonement was universal; but it is doubtful if any maintain that the salvation will be universal, as belief is held to be a necessary condition or a sign of salvation. Beyond such ideas as these there are two momentous considerations:--(1.) Whether an Almighty Maker of the universe could be such an one as, were he to carry out a scheme of salvation for a condemned race of his creatures, would do so in a way to have but a partial effect, or to be dependent on the belief or unbelief of those for whom it was devised. (2.) Whether vicarious sacrifice can in any way satisfy justice, divine or human. For what is vicarious sacrifice?--the substitution of the innocent for the guilty, whether an innocent lamb or an innocent child, or the innocent Son of the Eternal made flesh. However exalted the victim the principle is the same,--that of satisfying justice by committing so gross an injustice as enjoining or permitting the innocent to take the place of the guilty. Would any earthly tribunal be accounted righteous which allowed a self-sacrificing mother to substitute herself for a son, a son for a father? And does not the Christian doctrine represent its deity as the author of a proceeding so utterly unjust? 3. Christian believers, however, consider themselves as, or as having been, sinners under divine condemnation, but maintain that God can, consistently with justice, on account of the merits and death of Jesus, freely pardon their sin; and, in the hope that saving faith has been given them, they rest content in this belief, seek to live in this world in subjection to Christ's commandments, and await, after death, an entrance into bliss unspeakable, and, on Christ's Second coming, a joyful resurrection. Such, at least, is the profession; the practice does not always correspond. Christians are not unknown to history, nor possibly to the present age, whose conduct is widely at variance with their profession. But this is true of others besides believers in Christianity. They who rest content in the belief and hope just mentioned, are seldom disturbed by misgivings as to the soundness of the foundations of the Christian faith. They have no more doubt that the miraculous birth, the miracles, and the resurrection of Jesus were actual witnessed events, than they have of the assassination of Julius Caesar, or of the landing of William the Conqueror in England. And this belief seems to them to account for much. That stumbling-block to many in the way of owning that a wise and beneficent deity could be the author of such a world as this, of "a whole creation groaning and travailing in pain," disappears, in their minds, in view of the curse of God against sin, under which the earth and all it contains is, as they believe, labouring, and of the love of God in providing a way by which he could be just and yet pardon sin. It gives them, moreover, a definite, settling belief, and a hope for the future, that there is something better and different in store than life in this world. Regarding the earth and all upon it as under a curse, they profess to set their hearts on their home in heaven, on the glorious future revealed. Alas, then, if the grounds on which the prospect of this glorious future rests are worthless; if the hope is delusive; if its evil effect is, and has continually been, to divert men from applying themselves strenuously to make the best of this earth on which they live, and from heartily co-operating with their fellows to do the same; to build up brazen barriers of spiritual pride and self-complacency that sunder man from man; to foster vain-glory, strife, acrimony, and intolerance through pretence, as between opposing sects and schools, of a superior, or a more accurate, or a better defined knowledge of the mind of God. 4. The foundations of the Christian faith are the supernatural testimonies, as recorded in the New Testament, given from on high to the supernatural attributes claimed for Jesus. Many there are who profess, or by their mode of teaching imply, disbelief in these supernatural testimonies or attributes, or ignore them altogether, yet who for the sake of their position, clerical or otherwise, or to be in unison with prevailing fashion, extol Christianity as a system of high moral government and elevating tendency. All such, however, will appear to the honest and truth-loving mind but deserving of unmeasured scorn. Excepting the Jesus of the New Testament, is there any other Jesus? If the supernatural attributes there claimed for him are a pretence, he was either self-deluded or he was an impostor, or the compilers of the four gospels have borne false witness, or are recorders of inflated hearsay, or the inventors of fiction, all the while asserting that they were eye-witnesses, or narrators of the testimony of eye-witnesses. And what is to be said of a system founded either on self-delusion or imposition? Are not noble and pure doctrines put to the basest use when they are made supports of pretence and falsehood, and should they not be rescued from such contamination? Besides, Jesus scarcely claims to be the originator of new laws. His claim is far more. He is held to be the same person who gave the commandments to Moses on Sinai; and his spiritual application and extension of these laws are to be found also in the books of the Psalms and the Prophets, alleged to have been written under his own inspiration. Whether or not they are to be found elsewhere, in so-called heathen writings, is a consideration beyond the scope of this inquiry. The exhortation "to take heed and beware of covetousness, for a man's life consisteth not in the abundance of the things he possesseth," might probably be found taught and practised under other than Christian sanction,--might perhaps be discovered not to have been the guiding principle of all Christian professors. As a system, then, of moral government, or of high spiritual life, the Christianity of the New Testament professes no more than to confirm and verify, explain, fulfil, and develop the Jewish Scriptures. But its supernatural claims on behalf of Christ himself, by which it pretends to lay bare the truth as to the position of mankind in this world and the next, and to give them the hope of a new life beyond the grave, rest on the supernatural occurrences recorded. If these are true, Jesus is all he claimed to be. He is now alive, he has the destinies of the whole human race in his hands, and is to be worshipped as God. If they are not true, he was either a mere man, deluding or self-deluded, or the history of his life is a myth, however originated or developed. Truth and sincerity demand that there be no compromise between these two positions. The time has surely gone by when sound morality and brotherly kindness require the support of supernatural pretence; when religion, in the words of an ancient writer, is to be praised as an imposture devised by wise men for restraining the evil passions of the multitude. Let every true man repudiate the libel on his race implied by the most unworthy, most pernicious and despairing idea, which has for so long influenced human thought, that for the support of high morality and love of kind it is necessary to disregard or to trifle with the highest of all morality--Truth. 5. Ordinary scientific research is of little avail here. Science of itself is unable either to affirm or to deny if any power beyond and supreme over Nature exists. Whether Nature works spontaneously, and there is nothing besides matter and its inherent organising powers; or whether her various operations are carried on in fixed modes, and by determinate forces, created and sustained by an Omnipotent and Omniscient Being, the observation of cause and effect, and the induction of general laws from ascertained facts is the same. But in the latter case, the Almighty One, if he willed, might suspend or break through, or alter the regular course of Nature's working; and the question here is, whether there is any valid evidence to show that the manifestations, as recorded in the New Testament, of a nature-controlling power actually happened. If such an one, almighty, all-seeing, all-knowing, all-just, all-loving, all-merciful (such as Exodus xxxiv. 6, 7) exists, a special revelation from him to men, different from his working in the visible universe, is not a thing impossible: moreover, assuming the Christian doctrine to be true, that by sending his son Jesus into the world he meant to save only a portion of the human race, the revelation might take place in a mode suited to the knowledge and capacities of those for whom it was intended; and merely because the mode may appear absurd and unworthy of a deity (though this consideration may not be lost sight of), or because it did not take place in the way which the learned and philosophers--hitherto a small minority of mankind--might have selected, it is not to be disbelieved if the evidence is good. And it may fairly be argued that there would be no simpler way by which an Almighty could reveal his own existence, or attest the divine mission of his chosen messenger, than by instances of nature-controlling power. Again and again, then, this one consideration presses, "Is there any good evidence to show that these occurrences did really happen, that this man Jesus, claiming to be the Son of God, received certain credentials from a Power beyond and supreme over Nature?" 6. The supernatural attributes of Jesus, claimed by himself, or by his disciples for him, and held to constitute saving faith, are-- a. That he was alive from all eternity, the sole-begotten Son of God, before he appeared in this world. b. That his birth was the result of the "overshadowing" of his virgin-mother by the "power of the Highest." c. That while he sojourned on earth he was a union of God and man, a mortal human body with the mind and power of the Eternal. d. That his career on earth and its results were the fulfilment of the Jewish law and prophets. e. That he rose from the dead on the third day from his crucifixion, ascended from earth to heaven, and is now there, ever-living God and man united, with all power in heaven and in earth. f. That he is to return in the power of the Almighty to raise the dead, and to inaugurate with his chosen an everlasting kingdom, and to banish his enemies for ever from his presence. The supernatural events recorded in the gospels as testimonies to these supernatural attributes are-- (1.) Those connected with his birth, viz.:--The appearance of the angel Gabriel to Zacharias to announce the birth of the forerunner John, and to Mary to announce her conception of Jesus; the three appearances of the angel of the Lord to Joseph in dreams; the visit of the wise men of the East; and the appearance of the angels and of the heavenly host to the shepherds on the plains of Bethlehem. (2.) The heavenly testimonies, viz.:--The voice at the baptism. The transfiguration and the voice thereat. The voice from heaven (John xii. 28-31). To which may be added-- The testimony of the devils. The temptation by Satan, and the subsequent ministration of angels. The earthquake and rending of the veil of the temple at the crucifixion. (3.) The miracles performed, which, if true, proved that Jesus and the first apostles had power over diseases and the course of nature. (4.) The fulfilment of prophecy. (5.) The resurrection from the dead, the appearances after that event, the ascension to heaven, the gifts of the apostles, and the subsequent manifestations to Paul on his way to Damascus. 7. For the purposes of this inquiry there are two simple, and what appear to be conclusive, tests ready to hand; one, a rule of evidence held sacred by Jews and Christians alike, and the other arising out of the nature of the claims made for Jesus. (a.) Moses, or, as Christians affirm, the deity speaking by Moses, has laid down this rule of evidence in cases of guilt: "One witness shall not rise up against a man for any iniquity, or for any sin, in any sin that he sinneth: at the mouth of two witnesses or at the mouth of three witnesses shall the matter be established." This rule is commended in the New Testament in the case of offences (Matt, xviii. 16). What then can be more fair to Christianity than to examine its claims by a rule of evidence held righteous by itself? For, to put it on the very lowest grounds, the evidence necessary to establish events otherwise incredible must surely be at least equally conclusive with that necessary to convict a criminal. These are not ordinary historical statements, to be credited or not as reasonable probability, fair conjecture, or prejudice may determine, without any penal consequences-whatever, either in this world or the world to come. If a man disbelieves that King Arthur, or Romulus, or even Alexander the Great, or Julius Caesar ever existed, does it affect his welfare now or hereafter? But the gospels set forth extraordinary occurrences, disbelief of which by any one is said to render him liable to be left to perish in his sins, to endure the torments of hell evermore; and will it for a moment be asserted that a deity would expect belief involving so dire a consequence, on evidence he is said to consider insufficient for the punishment of common guilt? If, then, judged by this Mosaic rule of evidence, disbelief of the alleged supernatural testimonies to the claims of Jesus should be the righteous, and belief the unrighteous result, on whose side would a God of truth be? Would he be on the side of those who are swayed by emotion and not evidence--who imagine that their feelings are in unison with facts they have taken no pains to verify--who profess to believe because it is fashionable, or because they have been so taught from youth--who credit statements which they assert affect their relation to the Almighty and their eternal interests, on grounds on which they would not credit statements affecting their most trifling temporal interest? Would a God of truth be on their side? Surely not. (b.) The New Testament record and doctrine are said to be a development and fulfilment of the Old. The deity of the one is the deity of the other, under a different dispensation. "The law was given by Moses, but grace and truth came by Jesus Christ." If, then, the New Testament is shown conclusively to be a development and fulfilment of the Old, this claim will be sustained. If, on the other hand, there are twisted and untenable interpretations of Old Testament texts, to make them fit in with New Testament facts; or if there are practices or doctrines or aught else upheld in the New Testament, as of God, which are hateful or foreign to the deity of the Old, such would argue deception (whether intentional or not) in the writers of the New Testament, and show that, if the deity of the Old Testament is the true God, the deity of the New is not. Christianity thus maintaining that the God of the Jewish Scriptures is the Eternal, would fall by its own supports. 8. Christian authorities, for the most part, hold that the books of the Old Testament were composed by the different writers from Moses to Malachi, during the 1100 years from B.C. 1490 to B.C. 390, and the books of the New Testament, during the first century, a.d., by the companions of Jesus, or by those who received their information from his companions. Much learning and critical research have been expended on the one hand in maintaining this position, and on the other hand in impugning it, by stigmatising the whole of some books, and portions of others, as interpolations or compositions of later times. Into so nice a question as this, it is not proposed to enter here. A conscience-satisfying belief for earnest men can in no wise rest on the doubtful and disputed conclusions and arguments of verbal critics. The object of this inquiry, then, is to consider the evidence of the alleged supernatural credentials to the claims of Jesus, so far as possible in the most favourable light in which they can be presented, and therefore it will be assumed that the books of the Old and New Testaments were written at the time generally understood, and by the persons whose names they bear; and as by most believers in Christianity these books are held to be the one infallible authority, the endeavour will be not to travel beyond them. The alleged fulfilment of Old Testament prophecy by New Testament events will be fully considered under its own head; and on the divine inspiration claimed for the writers of the New Testament narratives, one word will suffice. To relate facts seen, or facts told to the narrator by others, requires no inspiration. If any one holds that the gospels record, either in whole or in part, facts which the writers did not see, or were not told of, but which were specially revealed to their spirit by a God of truth, as having occurred, he claims more for them than they do for themselves. See Luke i. 1-4; xxiv. 48; John i. 14; xx. 30, 31; xxi. 24, 25; Acts i. 1, 3; 1 Cor. xv. 1-9; 2 Peter i. 16-18; 1 John i. 1-3. The burden of these passages is summed up in the last one--"That which we have seen and heard declare we unto you." The truth or otherwise of the supernatural events recorded professes thus to rest on the testimony of human eyes and human ears, however divinely guided and enlightened. 9. Assuming, then, that the books of the New Testament were written by those whose names they bear, what is known of the narrators? Their character for honesty and trustworthiness among their neighbours and contemporaries there is no voucher for. Yet, while no one who knew them has left aught on record to their credit, there is nothing to the contrary. True, they themselves confess that neither the miraculous pretensions of Jesus himself, nor their own testimony with reference to the supernatural events of his life, met with any credit from by far the greater part of those living at the time, who had the means of satisfying themselves of their truth or falsehood--means which no one at the present day possesses. The people of Capernaum, consigned by Jesus to hell for unbelief, or his own brothers and sisters, may, for all that any one now can tell, have been as competent and truthful, in every respect, as the publican Matthew, or the fishermen Peter and John. The Roman governors, the Jewish high-priests, Gamaliel and the other rabbis, why are they to be accounted less trustworthy, less able to discern truth from pretence, than Paul and Luke? The following particulars, with reference to its writers, are to be gleaned from the New Testament:-- (1.) Matthew, whose name the first Gospel bears, was a tax-gatherer, sitting at the receipt of custom (Matt. ix. 9), in the thirty-first year of Jesus' life, when he became a follower of Jesus. Whether they knew each other previously is not mentioned. He was alive after the crucifixion, but no separate mention is made of him subsequent to Acts i. 13. (2.) Mark, the writer of the second Gospel, is not mentioned before Acts xii. 12 (ordinary chronology, a.d. 43 to 47), and then it is as the son of one Mary, to whose house Peter went after his miraculous liberation from prison. He accompanied Paul and Barnabas on their first mission to the Gentiles, but soon left them. A quarrel afterwards occurred between the two apostles on his account. Paul was hurt at the way in which he had turned back at the outset, and objected to take him on their second mission. Barnabas insisted that he should go. But if he is the same Mark mentioned in Colossians iv. 10, 2 Tim. iv. 11, and Philemon 24, a reconciliation with Paul had taken place, and he was alive and in Rome in a.d. 66. Again, Peter in his first epistle thus refers to him, "The church that is at Babylon, elected together with you, saluteth you, and so doth Marcus my son." It cannot be gathered from the New Testament that Mark (even if he had been the young man with the linen garment about his naked body [Mark xiv. 51, 52], as some fondly conjecture) knew anything of Jesus personally; but his own and his mother's connection with Peter is shown to have been an intimate one. From the passage in Philemon, also, it appears that he was at Rome, along with Luke, in attendance on Paul. (3.) Of Luke, the writer of the third Gospel and of the Acts, the first mention is in Acts xvi. 10 (ordinary chronology, A.D. 53), where the "we" first appears in the narrative. Thereafter he was the almost constant companion of Paul in his journeys. He is also mentioned (2 Tim. iv. 11) as being alive in a.d. 66, in attendance on Paul in Rome. Although he claims (Luke i. 1-4) "a perfect understanding of all things from the very first," he places himself among those who received their information from the "eye-witnesses and ministers of the word;" so that he himself knew nothing of Jesus or of the events of his life. He opens his Gospel thus: "Forasmuch as many have taken in hand to set forth in order a declaration of those things which are most surely believed among us." In his time, then, there were many different narratives of the life of Jesus. It is not clear whether Luke considered these erroneous, and requiring correction by the "perfect understanding" possessed by himself, or whether he was merely following the example of others in setting forth in order the events as he himself understood them. (4.) John, whose name the fourth Gospel bears, and who is held to be the author also of three epistles and the Revelation, became a follower of Jesus in the thirty-first year of Jesus' life (Matt, iv. 18, 22; Mark i. 16-20; Luke v. 1-11). He does not claim, nor is there any mention, that they were acquainted before, unless he was one of the two mentioned in John i. 37. He is said to have lived till a.d. 96. Jesus at the crucifixion (John xix. 25-27) left his mother Mary in charge of John, who had thus the very best opportunity of informing himself of all the circumstances within her knowledge. (5.) Peter, if the first three Gospels are to be followed, became a follower of Jesus at the Sea of Galilee, at the same time as the apostle John, that is, after the imprisonment of John the Baptist (Matt. iv. 18-22; Mark i. 16-20; Luke v. 1-11). But in the fourth Gospel (John i. 40-42) both Jesus and Peter are mentioned together as following the preaching of John the Baptist. Peter is said to have died about a.d. 66. (6.) Paul's first connection with Christianity was after his persecuting journey to Damascus (Acts ix.; ordinary chronology, a.d. 35), and it is believed that he suffered death at Rome, a.d. 68. With the exception of the miraculous appearance of Jesus while Paul was on the way to execute his persecuting mission at Damascus, and it may be the trance referred to in 2 Cor. xii. 1-4, it is not claimed for him that he possessed any knowledge of the events in the life of Jesus beyond what he learned from others. Of the six writers in the New Testament, then, who record facts in connection with the life of Jesus, three--Matthew, John, and Peter--claim to have been his companions, and three--Mark, Luke, and Paul--with the exception just mentioned in the case of the last, received their information from others. 10. The foregoing considerations will serve to show that this inquiry into the evidence on which rest the supernatural credentials said to have been given to the claims of Jesus to the worship of mankind, will be proceeded with on the most favourable view possible for these claims-- (1.) By adopting what is held by Christians to be a divine and righteous rule of evidence,--"That at the mouth of two witnesses, or at the mouth of three witnesses, shall the matter be established." (2.) By examining the claim of the New Testament to be a development and fulfilment of the Old. (3.) By assuming that the books of the Old and New Testaments were written by those whose names they bear, and at the times generally believed by Christians. (4.) By examining these books one with another, and travelling beyond them only so far as the strict requirements of the subject necessitate. THE TWO TESTS. CHAPTER I. THE BIRTH OF JESUS, AND THE SUPERNATURAL EVENTS CONNECTED THEREWITH Luke i., ii.; Matt i., ii. a. The appearances of the angel Gabriel to Zacharias and Mary. b. The appearances of the angel of the Lord to Joseph in dreams. c. The visit of the wise men of the East. d. The appearance of the angel and the heavenly host to the shepherds on the plains of Bethlehem. FIRST TEST.--"In the mouth of two or three witnesses shall every word be established." Mark and John pass by the birth and upbringing of Jesus in silence. John, who knew Mary, and to whose care Mary was consigned by the expiring Jesus, would have been the most competent of all to record _her version_ of the wondrous experiences of her cousin, herself, and her husband, in connection with the births of John the Baptist and of Jesus, yet he has not one word concerning them. Matthew, who may have known Mary and Joseph, has only meagre statements, very unlike what would be derived directly from either of the parents. But there is nothing to show from whom Matthew obtained his information. The detailed narration of the angelic appearances is made by Luke, who, so far as is known, was never at Jerusalem at all, far less ever came into contact with Mary. What, then, have we here? _John_, the companion and best loved disciple of Jesus, the custodian of Mary, the most competent of all to narrate occurrences within her knowledge,--Silent. _Mark_, the son of a woman known to Peter and the other companions of Jesus, and himself a companion of Peter, who would have been aware of these occurrences, if they had been believed among the very earliest Christian circle,--Silent. _Matthew_, the companion of Jesus, who may have known Mary and Joseph,--Records three angel-visits to Joseph in dreams, and the visit of the wise men of the East, but is silent as to-all the marvels of Luke.--Is silent as to Matthew's marvels, but sets forth, in detail, angel-visits to Zacharias and Mary, and the appearance to the shepherds at Bethlehem. Luke, who narrates the testimony of others, and does not name his informants, merely stating that they were eyewitnesses and ministers of the word, and who writes at least fifty years after the events referred to. In the mouth of two, or in the mouth of three witnesses, nay, even in the mouth of one witness, is any one of these incidents established? 'But let them be examined separately in detail:--- (a.) Luke states that while the Jewish priest Zacharias, in the order of his course, was burning incense in the temple, the angel of the Lord appeared, standing on the right side of the altar. The old priest was startled. The angel told him that his wife Elizabeth should bear a son, who should be great in the sight of the Lord, who should turn many of the children of Israel to the Lord their God, and make ready a people prepared for the Lord. Zacharias had a misgiving that the event predicted could not well happen, as he himself was an old man, and his wife "well stricken in years." Whereupon the angel announced himself to be Gabriel, who stands in the presence of God, and forthwith he inflicted dumbness on Zacharias, to last until the child was born, as a punishment for his very reasonable doubt. Hark! the clanking clog of priestcraft the harsh ring of intolerance! Punishment because of reasonable doubt of a supernatural event not verified! Are the angels, then, on the side of the persecutors? Are they so sensitive of their "_ipse dixit?_" Thomas the disciple, it is mentioned, dis-believed in the risen Jesus, but Jesus appeared again to satisfy his doubts. Sarah, the wife of Abraham, laughed heartily when she heard the Lord announcing to her husband that she should bear a son when her child-bearing condition was past, and was kindly rebuked. Jesus in John, and the Lord in Genesis, had a tenderness to human doubt of a reasonable character; but Luke's peremptory angel was not for one moment to be gainsaid. Is this disposition angelic or earthly? Has such a temper of mind never been known among men? But to return to the narrative. Zacharias himself was the only one who saw the angel. Aged at the date of John's birth, neither he nor his wife could have been alive when Luke wrote. Who, then, came between Zacharias and Luke? Whose report has Luke credited? This is not a question of the credibility of Zacharias or the credibility of Luke, but of some unknown go-between, one or more. And can such unknown go-between be credited in view of the silence of John and Matthew; in view of the silence of Mark, the companion of Peter, who was (John i 41) a follower of John the Baptist? Surely the hesitating Zachariases, the doubting Thomases, and the mocking Sarahs of modern times are to be dealt with tenderly. Luke goes on to narrate that, in the sixth month afterwards, the same angel Gabriel appeared to a virgin named Mary, betrothed to Joseph, a descendant of King David. The angel hailed her as the divinely favoured among women. She was very startled, wondering what he could mean by this style of address. He proceeded to tell her that she was to be the mother of a son, to be called the Son of the Highest, who was to reign for ever. She (naturally enough, were it not that she was about to be married) asked how that could be, in view of her virgin condition. More gracious to the hesitation of the timid maiden than to that of the aged priest, he replied, "The Holy Ghost shall come upon thee, and the power of the Highest shall overshadow thee; therefore, also, that holy thing which shall be born of thee shall be called the Son of God." He then told her that her Cousin Elizabeth, hitherto barren, was in her sixth month, and asserted that with God "nothing shall be impossible." She made a sweetly-submissive speech in reply, and the angel went away. Here, again, is the same lack of connecting evidence. Mary alone saw the angel. Who were the go-betweens, the transmitters of the tale to Luke? Why the silence of Matthew, Mark, and John, especially John, Mary's custodian? Matthew mentions that Mary was found with child by the Holy Ghost; that this was revealed to Joseph in a dream; but he has not one word of the angel-visit to Mary. Moreover, in the next chapter, Luke relates a circumstance quite inconsistent with this angel-visit. The aged Simeon made some striking statements with reference to the destiny of the child, whom he met in the temple; and Luke adds, "Joseph and his mother marvelled at those things which were spoken of him." But Simeon's statements were far less strong than the angel's. Can Mary, then, have forgotten the angel's visit? Did she not tell Joseph of it? Can she have forgotten her memorable visit to Cousin Elizabeth, when they congratulated each other on their respective conditions, and when even John the Baptist, before he saw the light, leaped for joy at Mary's salutation of his mother? If not, where was there room for marvel at Simeon's vaticination? (6.) Matthew's account commences with Joseph's discovery of the condition of his betrothed. "Before they came together she was found with child of the Holy Ghost," He does not mention how this discovery was made; if it was when Mary's condition could be no longer hid, or if Mary informed him as soon as she found herself pregnant, and then mentioned whatever grounds she had for asserting that this was the result of a supernatural "overshadowing." In any case, Matthew's account implies that at first Joseph doubted her, and thought that she had been unfaithful to him; but as he was a quiet man, averse to unnecessary scandal, he resolved to conceal her in some way. Yet, if Luke's angel-visit to Mary ever occurred, why was not Joseph informed of it at the time, for then there would have been no doubt on his mind that her conception was supernatural? Why was he not informed of the congratulatory visit to Cousin Elizabeth, of her speech and John the Baptist's joyous bound? Cousin Elizabeth, according to Luke, had no doubt that Mary was the "mother of my Lord." Joseph, her betrothed, according to Matthew, thought something quite different. While Joseph was considering the best mode of concealing Mary, the angel of the Lord appeared to him "in a dream," and directed him not to fear to take Mary to wife, for "that which is conceived in her is of the Holy Ghost" And he obeyed; but he "knew her not till she had brought forth her first-born." Luke's angel appeared to Zacharias and Mary in some visible shape, in broad day, or, at all events, when they were fully awake; but Matthew's angel made himself known to Joseph in dreams--why the difference!--the object being to induce Joseph to become the reputed father of a child _not his own_, and thus to conceal from the Jewish nation what is alleged to be the fulfilment of the prophecy that a "virgin shall be with child, and bring forth a son, and they shall call his name Emmanuel," &c. Are mystery and misrepresentation, then, of divine authority? Are unbelieving Jews and Gentiles to be eternally reprobate for not allowing that a man was other than the son of his reputed parents? An Almighty maker of the universe is here represented as begetting a child by a virgin untouched by man, and so far from disposing that this should be done in a way that would be clearly verified and apparent, either to the world at large or to any select portion of it, he--eternal God--is said to have proceeded in the clandestine way of directing, by means of an angel who manifested himself in dreams, that Joseph should take this virgin to wife, and pass off the divine offspring as his own son, that thus the wondrous birth on which so much depended might be concealed. Matthew further mentions two subsequent appearances of the angel of the Lord to Joseph in dreams, the first directing him to take the child to Egypt to be out of the way of Herod's massacre, and then, when Herod was dead, directing him to return to Judea. Luke, on the other hand, practically ignores Joseph in the whole transaction of the birth of Jesus. He makes no mention of the way in which Mary informed her lover; of the condition she was in, and merely brings him in when the birth is about to take place, as proceeding from Nazareth to Bethlehem, along with Mary, to be taxed. While Matthew avers that he was desirous of saving Mary's good name, there is nothing in Luke to show that Joseph ever knew of Mary being with child before he married her; and for all that is there stated, he may have believed that Jesus was his own son; Luke's only later reference to Joseph in connection with Jesus, is in his account of the visit to the temple, when the boy was twelve years old. Discovering that he was not among the homeward-bound company, Joseph and Mary returned to Jerusalem, and found him in the temple posing the doctors, when his mother said, "Son, why hast thou thus dealt with us? Behold, thy father and I have sought thee sorrowing." The reply was, "How is it ye sought me? Wist ye not that I must be about my Father's business?" and Luke adds, "They understood not the saying which he spake unto them." How, then, can the angel-visit to Mary be true, or the three angel-visits to the slumbering Joseph? For if these be not false, Joseph and Mary were the two human beings at the time who did understand fully who this wondrous child was. (c and d.) The two further supernatural incidents in connection with the birth of Jesus (the wise men of the East and the appearance to the Bethlehem shepherds) remain to be considered. The details of the one are quite irreconcilable with those of the other. (c) Matthew states that on the birth of Jesus at Bethlehem, in the reign of King Herod, certain wise men from the East came to Jerusalem. They announced that the object of their visit was to worship the new-born King of the Jews, whose natal star they had seen in the East. On hearing this Herod was much troubled, and all Jerusalem with him. Herod sent for the priests to inquire of them where Christ, the anointed one, was to be born. On the authority of the prophecy, Micah v. 2, they informed him that the Ruler of Israel was to come out of Bethlehem. Herod then had a private conference with the wise men, eagerly asked when the star appeared, charged them to proceed to Bethlehem and search for the child, and when they had found him to bring him word again that he himself might go and worship him. On leaving Herod, the very star they had seen in the East made its appearance again, and went: before them until it became stationary above the house where Jesus was. They entered the house, found Mary and her infant boy, fell down and worshipped him, and offered him gifts, gold, frankincense, and myrrh. Then being warned of God in a dream that they should not return to Herod, they went back by another route to their own country. After this, and again in a dream, Joseph was warned to take Jesus to Egypt, to avoid a massacre which Herod ordered, "when he saw that he was mocked of the wise men," of all the children in Bethlehem two years old and under, "according to the time which he had diligently inquired of the wise men." After Herod's death, Joseph was directed, in another dream, to return to Judea; but when he learned that Herod's son was reigning there he settled in Nazareth of Galilee. Luke's account is that Joseph and Mary dwelt in Nazareth before the angel-visit to Mary; that he and Mary went up from there to Bethlehem to be taxed; that Jesus was born while they were at. Bethlehem; that he was circumcised on the eighth day; that when Mary's purification--thirty-three days--was at an end they took the babe to Jerusalem to present him to the Lord in the temple; and that when they had performed all things according to the law of the Lord, they returned to Galilee, "_to their own city Nazareth_." The glaring contradiction here between Luke and Matthew need scarce be dwelt on. Luke states that Joseph and Mary came to Bethlehem from Nazareth: Matthew's account implies that they were not in Nazareth until the return from Egypt, and that going to Nazareth at all was because of a warning from God in a dream. Matthew states that they fled from Bethlehem to Egypt to avoid the wrath of Herod: Luke, that they brought the child to Jerusalem, where Herod, according to Matthew, was, and that he was openly acknowledged in the temple by Simeon and Anna. Matthew states that, at Herod's death, they went from Egypt to Nazareth, avoiding Judea; Luke, that they went straight from Jerusalem to Nazareth in a very short time after the birth of Jesus. Matthew places the birth of Jesus in the reign of King Herod; Luke, during the taxing made when Cyrenius was governor of Syria, which, following Josephus, was not till after the death of Archelaus, Herod's successor. This discrepancy has given much anxious concern to the "reconcilers" and critics, the latest solution being a conjecture, stated to rest "on good grounds," that Cyrenius was _twice_ governor of Syria, first towards the close of Herod's life, afterwards on the death of Archelaus. For the present purpose, it is assumed that Matthew and Luke refer to the same period. The tale of the wise men suggests many questions. What came of them afterwards? How many were there? Where did they come from? How, when they saw the star in the East, did they know that it indicated the birth of a King of the Jews? What special _Jewish_ appearance did it present? and what end was their heaven-directed visit to serve? Not to proclaim Jesus to the Jews as their king and ruler; not to accredit them as witnesses to proclaim his divinity far and wide; not, so far as is stated, to bring their own minds to the saving belief that he was the Saviour of the world; not even to confirm Mary and Joseph's faith--for if the angel-visits are true that would have been unnecessary; but to offer to him, the professed Lord of heaven and earth, such trumpery gifts as were laid upon the altars of the old gods, or presented to baby princes of this world. (d.) Luke narrates that, at the birth of Jesus, a company of shepherds--how many is not mentioned--were watching their flocks at night in the fields, when "lo, the angel of the Lord came upon them, and the glory of the Lord shone round about them, and they were sore afraid. And the angel said unto them, Fear not, for behold I bring you good tidings of great joy which shall be to all people. For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour who is Christ the Lord. And this shall be a sign unto you: ye shall find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes lying in a manger. And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host, praising God and saying, Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, goodwill towards men." The shepherds forthwith hastened to Bethlehem, and discovered Mary, Joseph, and the infant boy lying in a manger. Finding the vision they had seen thus exactly realised, they spread abroad, among their wondering countrymen, "the saying that was told them concerning this child." "But Mary kept all these things, and pondered them in her heart." The question here again arises: between the shepherds, the eye-witnesses of this event, and Luke, who wrote at least fifty years after, who were the go-betweens? Or if the information came from Mary, why are Matthew, Mark, and, above all, John silent? And what became of the shepherds? When Jesus began his public ministry, where were they? Where those they informed? Joseph and Mary, by Luke's account, had come from Nazareth to Bethlehem to be taxed, and returned. Thus they would have been known in Bethlehem as belonging to Nazareth, and of the house and lineage of David. There would not then have been difficulty in keeping them in view. And would men who had seen so remarkable an appearance, to whom the angel of the Lord had spoken, who had heard the heavenly host singing, manifestations more glorious than before or since have been vouchsafed to any one, have lost sight of the wondrous child, or would those whom they informed have lost sight of him? Yet, during the three years' public appearance of Jesus, not one of them, so far as can be gathered, is to be found among his followers. (e and d.) That the visit of the wise men of the East, and the appearance to the shepherds, can both be true, is impossible. Luke is very precise as to the length of the stay of Joseph and Mary in Bethlehem after the birth of Jesus. It extended to the eighth day for circumcision, and to the thirty-third day after this for Mary's purification. Then they left Bethlehem for Jerusalem, there "performed all things according to the law of the Lord," and returned straight to Galilee. During the forty or forty-one days of the stay at Bethlehem--five miles from Jerusalem--the shepherds were spreading abroad "the saying that was told them concerning this child." That he was a "Saviour, born in the city of David, Christ the Lord." The visit of the wise men must have occurred in the course of these forty-one days. Their inquiry put all Jerusalem in a ferment, roused Herod's jealousy, set him inquiring where Christ should be born, induced the most eager desire to find the new-born babe, that he might remove such an obstacle from his path, _all the while that the shepherds in the neighboring district were publishing the glad tidings of his birth_. The wise men were guided by a star to the house where Joseph and Mary stayed, saw and worshipped the wondrous child, and were warned of God in a dream to depart to their own country privately; _but no such admonition to keep silence restrained the outspoken shepherds in the close vicinity of Herod_. To avoid Herod's wrath, Joseph "took the young child and his mother by night and departed into Egypt," _just at the time "when the days of her purification, according to the law of Moses, were accomplished, they brought him to Jerusalem to present him to the Lord," Herod being at Jerusalem, and having had his jealousy roused by the tale of the wise men_. Can aught more utterly irreconcilable be imagined? As, then, the falsehood of the accusers of Susanna in the Apocrypha was detected, when they were examined apart by Daniel, on the one affirming that her crime was committed "under a mastic tree" and the other "under a holm tree," so such contradiction as that between Matthew and Luke wholly destroys the credit of both narratives. What is there for a conscience-satisfying belief to rest upon? SECOND TEST.--_The claim of the New Testament to represent the Jewish Jehovah._ 1.. The deity begetting a mortal child by a mortal woman, was this a Jewish or a Gentile idea? That it was not a Jewish idea will be shown when the alleged fulfilment of Isaiah vii. 14,--"Behold a virgin shall conceive" &c., is considered. That it was a common Gentile idea is most manifest. A glowing account of Jupiter's commerce with the fair ones of the earth is to be found in his amorous address to his sister-wife Juno (_Iliad_, Book xiv. 280-353). The other gods and goddesses in like manner bestowed their favours on mortals, and begat mortal children. Plato was said to be the child of a virgin by Apollo. Apollo appeared to her betrothed in a dream, and told him his bride was with child, on which he delayed his marriage. What is this but the tale of Mary and Joseph in another form? Which is the original? Plutarch also mentions that a similar notion was held by the Egyptians, but of male gods only. "The Egyptians, indeed, make a distinction in this case, which they think not an absurd one, that it is not impossible for a woman to be impregnated by the approach of some divine spirit, but that a man can have no corporeal intercourse with a goddess." This is an exactly similar notion to Luke's "overshadowing" of Mary. "Out of Egypt have I called my son," is perfectly true in a sense. Confucius also, in one of the sacred books of the Chinese, refers to the great Holy One, who would appear in the latter days, born of a virgin, whose name shall be the Prince of Peace. Similar, too, are the legends of the fabled founders of some, to whom so many of the civil and religious institutions of the city were ascribed. Romulus and Remus were sons of the war-god Mars. Their mother Rhea took refuge in a cave: the meeting of the god and the mortal was attended by prodigies: the heaven was darkened, the sun eclipsed: her celestial lover announced to Rhea that she should bear twin-sons, to be renowned in arms, and then ascended in a cloud from the earth. Servius Tullius, also, had a like origin. His mother, a slave in the household of Tarquin, beheld a divine appearance on the hearth, and afterwards was "found with child" by the god. The child, when born, was named Servius, from his mother's condition. During its sleep she saw its head surrounded by flames, which were extinguished when she awakened it. The founder, likewise, of the Sabine town of Cures was a son of Mars. His mother, a virgin of noble family, seized with divine favour, while dancing in the temple, entered the shrine, and became pregnant by the god. Her son, she is told, would be of superhuman beauty, matchless in deeds of arms. So that a Roman on his conversion had merely to transfer to Jesus a like belief to those in which he had been nurtured with reference to the births of the fabled founders and ancient kings of his own city, up to whom the political and religious practices which he had been taught to regard as sacred were traced. To him there would have been nothing incredible in the story of Mary's conception. The claim of the church _of Rome_ to be the true church of Christ may thus, in a certain sense, be cordially acquiesced in. 2. The Son of God, by a mortal woman, brought up as the child of that woman and her husband,--Is that a proceeding proper to the deity of the Old Testament? The writings and the spirit of Moses and the prophets emphatically answer, No. But it exactly corresponds with the Grecian legends of the "father of gods and men." The suffering hero Hercules, son of Jupiter and Alcmena, brought up by her and her husband Amphitryon, is a memorable pagan tale of a kindred character. 3. The birth of an illustrious personage made manifest by a star,--Is that consistent with the attributes of the Jewish Jehovah? The stars in the Old Testament are ever referred to as witnesses to the might of the Eternal, and those who sought to divine earthly events by their courses, conjunctions, or appearances, were treated with derision. "Let now the astrologers, the stargazers, the monthly prognosticators stand up and save thee from these things that shall come upon thee." This is addressed by Isaiah, xlvii. 13, to the daughter of the Chaldeans, Babylon. Matthew's stargazing wise men would thus have been "spued out of the mouth" of the Jewish Jehovah. CHAPTER II. THE SUPERNATURAL TESTIMONIES DURING THE LIFETIME OF JESUS (a.) The descent of the Holy Spirit, like a dove, and the voice from heaven, at his baptism. (b.) The transfiguration, and the voice then heard; also the voice from heaven, mentioned in John xii 28-31. (c.) The testimony of the devils. (d.) The forty days' fast, the temptation by Satan, and the subsequent ministration of angels. (e) The earthquake and rending of the veil of the temple at the crucifixion. (a.) _The occurrences at the baptism_ (Matt. iii.; Mark i. 1-11; Luke iii. 21, 22; John i. 29-34). FIRST TEST.--"_In the mouth of two or three witnesses shall every word be established_." In the fourth gospel the account given is expressly stated to be the record of John the Baptist. It does not appear from whom the particulars in the other three gospels were derived. With the exception of the angel-visit to Zacharias, at his birth, and the dove and voice at the baptism of Jesus, there is nothing supernatural in connection with John. He is represented as a plain-spoken, downright enthusiast, held in esteem by king and people, and as appropriating to himself the prophecy of Isaiah--"A voice of one crying in the wilderness, preparing the way of the Lord, making straight in the desert a highway for our God." He lived a rude life in the desert, practised fasting and purifying, and baptized his followers. By his outspokenness he incurred the enmity of Herodias, the wife of Herod, who obtained his head as a reward for the pleasure given to her husband by her daughter's dancing. In comparing then his record, as found in John, with the statements of Matthew, Mark, and Luke, one most marked divergence appears. The latter assert that, on Jesus coming to be baptized, the Baptist objected, saying, "I have need to be baptized of thee, comest thou to me:" thus implying a knowledge on John's part that Jesus was the Christ. Whereas the former pointedly states, on John's own authority that _he did not know_ Jesus as the Messiah until the supernatural appearance of the dove occurred. "_I knew him not_, but he that sent me to baptize with water, the same said unto me," &c.. If the account in the fourth gospel then is true, Matthew's account on this point must be false, and the angel-appearance to Zacharias, and John's gladsome leap in his mother's womb on Mary's salutation of Elizabeth, are discredited. Cousin Elizabeth addressed Mary as "the mother of my Lord;" and had this been so, would not John have been brought up in the belief that Jesus was "the Lord," whose advent he was to prepare? Again, the "record" of John the Baptist in the fourth gospel does not confirm or corroborate the "voice from heaven, This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased," at the baptism, mentioned in the other gospels. John would surely have heard these wondrous words, and could not well have forgotten them. SECOND TEST.---_The claim of the New Testament to represent the Jewish Jehovah_. 1. A point to be specially noticed is John's declaration, that he who sent him to baptize with water had charged him that the Messiah would be made manifest by the spirit of God descending from heaven like a dove, and alighting and remaining on him. John affirms that he bare record that Jesus was the Son of God, because in his case this condition was fulfilled. Now, who sent John to baptize with water? Is there anything in the Old Testament scriptures to give baptism with water place as an ordinance of the being therein upheld as divine, and whom both John the Baptist and Jesus claimed to represent? Not one word! Who, then, sent John to baptize with water? Did he receive his directions from angels in dreams or otherwise? Some of the lustrations in connection with the heathen temples were, however, very similar to the ordinance of baptism since practised among Christians. 2. The spirit of the Eternal in a bodily shape like a dove! is that an Old Testament prediction, an Old Testament belief? Let the following passages reply:--Isaiah xl. 25, "To whom then will ye liken me, or shall I be equal? saith the Holy One. Lift up your eyes on high, and behold who hath created these things, that bringeth out their host by number," &c. Deut. iv. 15-17,--"Take ye therefore good heed unto yourselves; for ye saw no manner of similitude on the day that the Lord spake unto you in Horeb out of the midst of the fire: lest ye corrupt yourselves, and make you a graven image, the similitude of any figure, the likeness of male or female, the likeness of any beast that is on the earth, the likeness of any winged fowl that flieth in the air," &c. Here then, at the very outset, are John the Baptist and Jesus represented as connected with a marvellous event, utterly abhorrent to the Old Testament deity, whose will and purpose they claimed to be fulfilling! But though the conception of the deity appearing in the shape of any bird or beast was wholly foreign to the Old Testament writers, it was one quite familiar to the heathen world. In the _Iliad_, for instance, the god Sleep, like the shrill bird of night, alighting, perched on the loftiest fir on Mount Ida, to aid the amorous design of Juno on mightiest Jove; Apollo and Pallas were seated on a lofty beech, like two vultures, to watch the duel between Ajax and Hector. The Egyptian deities had each their appropriate symbol-beast, bird, or reptile. A dove, as an emblem of meekness and peace, was no doubt deemed by the gospel compilers the most fitting of what they wished to convey as the mission of Jesus; but the conception being heathen, and not Jewish, it discredits the claim of Christianity, that the New Testament is a continuation and fulfilment of the Old. (h) The transfiguration, &c. (Matt. xvii. 1-13; Mark ix, 243; Luke ix. 28-36). Jesus took Peter and James and John along with him into a high mountain apart to pray. While praying he was transfigured before them; his face shone as the sun; his raiment glistened; Moses and Elias appeared in glory talking with him, and spoke of the decease which he should accomplish at Jerusalem; Peter and the others were heavy with sleep, but when awake they saw his glory and the two that were with him; Peter, in bewilderment, suggested that three tabernacles be made, one for Jesus, one for Moses, and one for Elias; a bright cloud overshadowed them, and a voice out of the cloud said, "This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased." On this the disciples fell on their faces in fear, and when they revived they saw no one except Jesus himself. He charged them to conceal what they had seen until after his resurrection. _John_ makes no mention of the transfiguration; but in chapter xii 28-30, when Jesus is at Jerusalem "exhorting the people, and praying, Father, glorify thy name; then came there a voice from heaven, saying, I have both glorified it, and will glorify it again. The people, there-tore, that stood by and heard it said that it thundered, others said, An angel spake to him. Jesus answered and said, This voice came not because of me, but for your sakes." Peter, 2nd epistle i. 17,--"For he received from God the Father honour and glory, when there came such a voice to him from the excellent glory, This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased. And this voice, which came from heaven, we heard when we were with him in the holy mount." The idea is an old one that because light of intense brilliancy dazzles the human eye it is therefore the dwelling-place and the raiment of the inhabitants of heaven, pictured thus as a refulgent abode with refulgent beings. "Who coverest thyself with light as with a garment" (Psalm civ. 2); "At length do thou come, we pray, with a cloud thy shining shoulders veiled, O Augur Apollo!" (Horace i. 2, 31,) are instances. Glory and dazzling light meant the same thing. Now, light is known to be one of the forms in which force manifests itself, convertible into the other force-forms, and the other force-forms, convertible into it. Still, the account of the transfiguration, if the evidence on which it rests were at all trustworthy, would be a very important credential to the supernatural pretensions of Jesus, under the claim that such special manifestations of a Power beyond and supreme over Nature were made so as best to suit the comprehension of those for whom they were intended, and as showing that Jesus could so command the force-forms of Nature as to irradiate his person at will. What, then, is the evidence? The persons who witnessed the occurrence were Peter, James, and John, and while it lasted they were in a state of bewilderment, and part of the time asleep. Jesus commanded them to conceal what they had seen until after his resurrection. Matthew, therefore, could not have heard of it at the time it happened, and he does not state from whom he received the particulars he narrates. Perhaps from the forward Peter, who, in his epistle quoted above, confirms the account. For, strange to say, John, the other eye-witness, has not one word in support of the supernatural appearance on the mount of transfiguration. Of three eyewitnesses there is only the testimony of one, Peter; and although John, one of the others, has written an account of the life of Jesus, he passes by this striking event in silence. So the evidence fails. Can it, then, have been a dream of Peter, when with Jesus, James, and John in some lonely mountain in Galilee? But though John does not mention the marvellous transfiguration, and the voice from heaven then heard, he does narrate a somewhat similar occurrence, in broad day, at Jerusalem. But Matthew, who would have been present, does not confirm John's statement. What, then, is to be said? What faith can righteously rest on such testimony? (c.) _The testimonies of the devils_ (Matt. viii. 29; xxxi. 32; Mark i. 24; i. 34; iii 11, 12; v. 7; Luke iv. 34; iv. 41; viii. 28). (1.) Devils, who came out of many, cried out that Jesus was Christ, the Son of God; but he rebuked them and suffered them not to speak, because they knew him. (2.) Some expressed fear of his power thus, "Let us alone, what have we to do with thee, Jesus of Nazareth? Art thou come to destroy us? to torment us before the time? I know thee who thou art, the Holy One of God." (3.) The following remarkable event is recorded: A man with an unclean spirit, untamable, who had burst asunder his chains and fetters, and was always, night and day, in the mountains and among the tombs, crying and cutting himself with stones, saw Jesus afar off, ran and worshipped him, exclaiming, "What have I to do with thee, Jesus, the Son of the most high God? I adjure thee by God that thou torment me not." Jesus asked him, "What is thy name?" and he replied, "My name is Legion, for we are many." Jesus cast out the legion, and, at their own request, gave c them permission to enter a herd of two thousand swine feeding close by, with the result that they all ran violently down a steep place into the sea, and were choked. What became of the devils is not mentioned. Paul (1 Cor. x. 20) states, "The things which the Gentiles sacrifice, they sacrifice to devils, and not to God," devils here being synonymous with the idols or gods of the Gentiles. In the following four passages in which devils are mentioned in the Old Testament (Lev. xvii. 7; Deut. xxxii. 17; 2 Chron. xi. 15; Psalm cvi. 37), the word is used in exactly the same sense as by Paul. "Devils," then, as indwelling unclean spirits, madly swaying their victims, or producing lunacy, blindness, dumbness, or other infirmities, are beings or influences quite unknown to the Old Testament writers. Moreover, in the Old Testament the heathen gods, though called devils, are derided as powerless. (See Elijah's mockery of Baal, and such passages as Psalm cxxxv. 15, 18.) In the fourth Gospel, too, there is scarcely any confirmation of the unclean spirits. The Jews, indeed, tell Jesus that he hath a devil, and is mad, showing a belief on their part of possession in some form; but John does not corroborate one single instance of the devil-manifestations and exorcisms so prominently set forth in the other Gospels. If, then, in Jesus' time there was a notion current among the Jews that madness and natural diseases and defects were manifestations of the so-called evil principle, or were evil spirits or influences, whence was this most erroneous doctrine derived? Certainly not from their own Old Testament writings. So far, therefore, the Old Testament discredits the accounts in Matthew, Mark, and Luke of the devils and their influences. It does not recognise beings or powers acting in the way described. And John's silence constitutes a fatal defect in the evidence in support of these manifestations. In the Old Testament (in such passages as Lev. xix. 31; xx. 27; Deut. xviii. 9, 12; Isa. viii. 19) reference is made to wizards, witches, and familiar spirits. Although the more ignorant and idol-affecting Israelites, and the Godforsaken Saul were attracted by such pretences, it does not appear that Moses or the prophets believed that they were real powers. Isaiah viii. 19 implies the contrary. Moses calls them the "abominations of those nations" whom the Lord was to drive out of Palestine from before the children of Israel. The gift they assumed was blasphemy against Jehovah, usurpation of the prerogative of him who "alone doeth wondrous things;" and this being so, they were to be cut off from among his people. But the possession of a familiar spirit with a gift of divination, or the power of witchcraft, or the evil spirit which put dissension between Abimelech and the Shechemites, or the evil spirit from the Lord manifested in Saul's jealousy of David, and occasionally succumbing to the charm of David's harp, or the lying spirit put by the Lord in the mouths of the prophets of Ahab, differ greatly from such evil spirits,--_personal, separate from their victims, entering in, and coming out of them_, as the "legion" mentioned above, or the demon-torn youth (Luke ix. 37, 42), or the devil that was dumb (Luke xi. 14).* * The Assyrians and Babylonians, however, among whom the captive Jews were afterwards placed, believed that the world teemed with malignant spirits, who were the authors of the various diseases to which mankind are subject. The Jews of the Talmud were imbued with the same idea. In the Apocryphal book of Tobit, also, the evil spirit Asmodeus, who killed the seven husbands of Raguel's daughter as they approached her, and who was at last driven forth by the smoke of the "ashes of the perfumes and of the heart and liver of a fish," so that he "fled into the utmost parts of Egypt, and the angel bound him," differs from the New Testament evil spirits in that he is represented rather as "attendant" on the maiden, than as "indwelling," but has this similarity to them that he is mentioned as a distinct person, exercising a malignant influence. In a stela found at Thebes it is recorded that Barneses XII., while on his way through Mesopotamia to collect tribute, was so enraptured with the charms of a chieftain's daughter that he married her. Her father afterwards came to Thebes, to beg of the king the services of a physician to effect the cure of a younger daughter possessed by an evil spirit. The physician sent, like Jesus' disciples (Luke ix. 40), could not cast him out, and eleven years later the father went again to Thebes to sue the gods of Egypt for more effectual aid. The king then gave him the use of the ark of the god Chons, which on arriving in Mesopotamia, after a journey of eighteen months, immediately drove forth the evil spirit from out his victim. On this the Mesopotamian chieftain was unwilling to part with the ark; but after retaining it three years and nine months, being warned in a dream in which he saw the deity fly back to Egypt in the shape of a golden hawk, he returned the ark to Egypt, in the thirty-third year of Rameses. The Zoroastrian conception of the prince of the "devils," Ahriman, and his attendant powers, reminds forcibly of the taunt of the Jews to Jesus, "He casteth out devils through Beelzebub, the chief of the devils." But how unlike this conception is to that of the impotent god of Ekron Beelzebub, referred to in 2 Kings i. These instances abundantly suffice to show that the belief held by the Jews in the time of Jesus, as to possession by evil or unclean spirits, or demons, or devils, was a belief gathered from the nations among whom they were scattered after the first captivity, and that it would have been held by Moses as an "abomination of those nations." What, then, becomes of the testimony of the devils to the claim of Jesus? Moses and the prophets would have held it in derision. (d.) _The temptation in the wilderness_ (Matt. iv. 1-11; Mark i. 12, 13; Luke iv. 1, 13). Jesus, after his baptism, was led by the spirit into the wilderness to be tempted of the devil. (1.) He fasted forty days and nights, and was then hungered, when the tempter came to him requiring that, if he were the son of God, he would turn the stones into bread. Jesus replied by a verse from Deuteronomy,--"Man shall not live by bread alone, but by every word that proceedeth out of the mouth of God." (2, Luke makes this 3.) Then the devil took him to Jerusalem, and setting him on a pinnacle of the temple, said "If thou be the Son of God, cast thyself down, for it is written, he shall give his angels charge concerning thee and, in their hands they shall bear thee up, lest at any time thou dash thy foot against a stone." Jesus again replied by a verse from Deuteronomy, "Thou shalt not tempt the Lord thy God." (3, Luke makes this 2.) The devil then took him up to the summit of a very high mountain, showed him all the kingdoms of the world and their glory, and said, "All these things will I give thee if thou wilt fall down and worship me," Jesus the third time, after a "Get thee hence Satan," replied by a verse from Deuteronomy, "Thou shalt worship the Lord thy God, and him only shalt thou serve." On this the devil left him, and angels came and ministered to him. The two persons here concerned were Jesus and Satan. The testimony of the latter illustrious personage is out of the question, partly because he is not famed as a truthteller, partly because any intercourse between him and the writers of the New Testament is not to be thought of. If, then, Jesus gave the particulars to Matthew, why did the best-loved disciple John not know of them? The details of the earlier life of Jesus, prior to the Baptist's imprisonment, are more ample in his Gospel than in the others; but so far from there being any mention of the temptation, it would require much ingenuity to find a place for it in the series of events he relates. The most admirable lesson, however, which the tale conveys, or which may be gathered from it, that neither for daily bread nor for vain-glory, nor for the sake of power and riches is truth in aught to be compromised or swerved from, may help to sustain those who go along with the present inquiry to persevere with it to the uttermost, whatever the consequences or whatever the conclusions it may lead to, think as they may of the forty days' fast, the wilderness and the wild beasts, Satan and the angels. It will be proper here to contrast the conception of "Satan" in the New Testament with that in the Old. The Satan of the temptation was a being capable of transporting Jesus from the wilderness to the pinnacle of the temple in Jerusalem, and again to a mountain summit, where, in a moment of time, he showed him all the kingdoms of the world and their glory, the disposal of whose dominion he arrogated to himself. Again--Matt. xii. 22, 30--Jesus refers to Satan as the king of a demon kingdom opposed to the kingdom of God; Mark iv. 15, as preventing the words of life from taking root in men's hearts; Luke x. 18, as one he himself had seen fall from heaven like lightning; Luke xiii. 16, as one who had bound a woman with infirmity eighteen years; Luke xxii. 31, as desirous to sift Simon Peter as wheat; Matt. xiii. 39, as the enemy who sowed the tares among the wheat; Matt xxv. 41, as the being for whom and for whose angels everlasting fire has been prepared; John viii. 44, as the parent of the unbelieving Jews, a murderer, and the father of lies. In Luke xxii. 3, John xiii. 27, Satan is referred to as entering into Judas Iscariot to tempt him to betray Jesus. In the apostolic writings he is mentioned--Acts v. 3--as filling the heart of Ananias to lie to the Holy Ghost; Acts xxvi. 18, as a power over men's minds opposed to the power of God; 1 Tim. i. 20, and 1 Cor. v. 5, as one to whom backsliders were to be delivered over; 2 Cor. ii. 11, Eph. vi. 11, 1 Tim. iii. 7, as a wily adversary; 2 Cor. xi. 14, as transformed into an angel of light; 1 Thess. ii. 18, as thwarting Paul's intentions; 2 Thess. ii 9, as one whose working is "with all power, and signs, and lying wonders;" 1 Tim. v. 15, as one to whom backsliders turn aside; 2 Tim. ii. 26, as an ensnarer of men; Heb. ii. 14, as "him that hath the power of death;" 1 Peter v. 8, as "your adversary the devil," who, "as a roaring lion, goeth about seeking whom he may devour;" 1 John iii 8, as "him who sinneth from the beginning;" Rev. ii. 9, 10, 13-24, iii. 9, as possessing a seat, a synagogue, and casting the true professors into prison; Rev. xii. 9, as "the great dragon who was cast out (from heaven), that old serpent called the devil and Satan, who deceiveth the whole world: he was cast out into the earth, and his angels were cast out with him;" Rev. xii. 10, as "the constant accuser of the brethren;" Rev. xx. 2, as being bound a thousand years. Of this mighty and malignant being, is there any trace in the Old Testament? Is the existence of such a person, such a power, continuously and successfully working against God, consonant with Old Testament belief? Isaiah (xlv. 5-7) boldly and decisively replies in the negative: "I am the Lord, and there is none else, there is no God beside me.... I form the light and create darkness, I make peace and create evil; I the Lord do all these things." Who or what, then, is the Satan of the Old Testament? The translation of the Authorised Version, as it renders the same Hebrew word "Satan" in one place and "adversary" in others, tends to mislead. But the following portions of Psalm cix. will show how the word was employed:-- Verse 6--"Set thou a wicked man over him, and let Satan (an adversary) stand at his right hand." Verse 20--"Let this be the reward of my adversaries (my Satans)." Verse 29--"Let mine adversaries (my Satans) be clothed with shame." The Old Testament Satan, therefore, is _not a particular person at all, but a character which would apply to any one acting in opposition to another_. Let this view be tested by the following instances:-- Numbers xxii. 22--"And God's anger was kindled because he (Balaam) went, and the angel of the Lord stood in the way for an adversary (a Satan) against him." _Here the Satan is the angel of the Lord_. 2 Sam. xxiv. 1--"And again the anger of the Lord was kindled against Israel, and he provoked David to number Israel." 1 Chron. xxi. 1--"And Satan (an adversary) stood up against Israel, and provoked David to number Israel." These two passages, on comparison, _show that Jehovah himself was the Satan_ of David in this instance. Job i. 6-12; ii. 1-8.--On the day when the sons of God came to present themselves before the Lord, Satan (the adversary) came also among them. The Lord asked whence he came. Satan (the adversary) replied, "From going to and fro on the earth." Then followed a discussion with reference to Job's piety. Satan (the adversary) suggested that Job's service of God was not for nought; that if the Lord took away his wealth he would curse. The Lord replied, "Behold, all that he hath is in thy power; only on himself put not forth thine hand." Soon Job lost his cattle, his servants, his children. He resignedly said, "The Lord gave and the Lord taketh away, blessed be the name of the Lord." On a second similar occasion Satan (the adversary) suggested that if Job's person were touched he would "curse thee (the Lord) to thy face." The Lord said, "Behold, he is in thy hand, but spare his life." Satan (the adversary) smote Job with sore boils from head to foot. But he said, "Shall we receive good at the hand of God, and shall we not receive evil?" Here Job's adversary came into the presence of the Lord, among the sons of God, and discussed Job's case with Jehovah himself. Is the conception, then, that he was a messenger of the Lord, walking up and down through the earth, contemplating its inhabitants; that his observation had shown him--if men then were like what they are now--that calamities were not borne with patience, that penury and complaints, losses and curses, went together; so that, when asked his opinion about the well-to-do Job, he would not give him credit for being different to his fellows? In this way he became his Satan or adversary. This appears to be what the writer would convey. But how unlike the "roaring lion" of the New Testament. It will be noticed how strictly the power of Job's adversary is limited to what Jehovah specifically permitted. So much so, that when the calamities actually fell on Job he described them as from the Lord. In no way whatever does the Satan here mentioned act in opposition to Jehovah. Zech. iii. 1, 2--"And he showed me Joshua the high priest standing before the angel of the Lord, and Satan (the adversary) standing at his right hand to resist him. And the Lord said unto Satan (the adversary), The Lord rebuke thee, O Satan, even the Lord that hath chosen Jerusalem, rebuke thee: is not this a brand plucked out of the fire? Now Joshua was clothed with filthy garments, and stood before the angel." The conception here may be this: Joshua, with the filthy garments (figurative of the sins of Judah borne by the high priest, their representative), standing before the angel of the Lord, was resisted by "the adversary," or angel of divine justice. But the latter had to give way before the restoration of the divine favour. Or, more probably, "the adversary" may have been one of those who opposed the work of rebuilding Jerusalem, as mentioned in the Book of Ezra. All these considerations show conclusively that in the Old Testament conception of the Almighty there is _no room for_ such a being as the arch-fiend of the New. (e) _The supernatural appearances at the crucifixion_ (Matt, xxvii. 51-53; Mark xv. 38; Luke xxiii. 44, 45). (1.) The veil of the temple rent in twain from the top to the bottom. (2.) The earthquake and rending of the rocks. (3.) Darkness from the sixth to the ninth hour. (4.) The opening of the graves and the rising of the bodies of the saints after his resurrection, who went into the holy city, and appeared to many. _John_ makes no mention of these marvels, but (xix. 25-27)states that he himself was present at the crucifixion of Jesus, along with Mary, Jesus' mother, and three other women, close to the cross (not afar off, as Matthew, Mark, and Luke assert of the women), and yet he fails to confirm the other Gospels as to the earthquake and darkening of the sun. The rending of the veil of the temple, the opening of the graves, and the appearance of the risen saints would all have been known to him also, if they had occurred. Such prodigies as these are not confined to the Gospels,--"In the most high and palmy state of Rome, A little ere the mightiest Julius fell, The graves stood tenantless, and the sheeted dead Did squeak and gibber in the Roman streets," &c. CHAPTER III. THE MIRACLES 1. The miracles ascribed to Jesus are,-- [Illustration: table 055] [Illustration: table 056] The healing power claimed for Jesus in the passages marked (a) embraces all manner of sickness, disease, and derangement. Cures were effected by his word or his touch, or upon the patient laying hold even of the hem of his garment. The contemporaneous unbelief (Matt. xi. 20-24.) of his pretensions, with such instances of superhuman power openly manifested far and wide (Matt. iv. 23-25, and ix. 35) among the cities and villages of Galilee, is the crowning marvel of all. The special instances of his wonder-working and disease-curing power, marked (6), (c), (d), and (e), comprise all that are recorded in the four Gospels. The agreement between Matthew, Mark, and Luke, both as to the incidents and the manner of narration, is most marked. The raising of the son of the widow of Nain, the miraculous draught of fishes at the calling of Peter, James, and John, a cure of dropsy and one of infirmity are given by Luke alone. On the other hand, Luke has not the walking on the sea, the feeding of the four thousand, the cursing of the fig-tree, or the curing of the Canaanite's demon-possessed daughter, found in Matthew and Mark. And Matthew alone narrates the catching of the fish with the tribute money. But in the other instances the agreement between them is almost complete--so complete as to suggest many questions as to the real truth with reference to the compilation of the first three Gospels, questions which probably will never be solved. What, however, concerns the present purpose is that of the three the only eye-witness is Matthew, The source from which Mark and Luke derived their information is unknown, and ever will remain so. If not from Matthew (always assuming him to be the writer of the first Gospel), or from the same source as Matthew, it would be remarkable that their mode of narrating these details was so similar to his. How far then, does John, the other eye-witness, bear out Matthew, Mark, and Luke? Strange to relate, he has not one word of the casting out of devils, or of the cures of bodily distresses mentioned by the other three. Nor does he confirm the raising of Jairus' daughter, although he himself and James and Peter were the only three said to have been admitted by Jesus to witness this event, nor the resuscitation of the son of the widow of Nain, nor the calming of the storm, nor the feeding of the four thousand, nor the cursing of the fig-tree, nor the fish with the tribute money, nor the miraculous haul of fishes at his own calling to be a disciple. The miracles he does mention are _seven in all, and of these five are net in the other gospels_, although of the most striking character. They are, 1. The raising of Lazarus, four days dead. 2. Turning water into wine. 3. Curing a nobleman's son, at a distance, of fever. 4. Curing a man blind from his birth. 5. Curing a man, at the pool of Bethesda, with an infirmity of thirty-eight years' standing. Of the twenty-four miracles recorded by Matthew, Mark, and Luke, John, said to have been the eye-witness of all, confirms only two--viz., the feeding of the five thousand, and the walking on the sea. These two miracles are thus a chronological break, in all the Gospel narratives, of the movements of Jesus, by which a clear comparison can be made, thus:-- [Illustration: table 058] [Illustration: table 059] As to the subsequent events, from the entrance into Jerusalem to the crucifixion, the four gospels agree in the main, though they differ in several important particulars. But from the entrance into Jerusalem back to the feeding of the five thousand, how utter the divergence! And, again, from the feeding of the five thousand back to John's baptism, how irreconcilable the accounts of the two professed eyewitnesses represented as fellow-travellers over the greater part of the journeyings mentioned! The first three gospels place all Jesus' ministry and miracles, and the calling of his disciples, as to time, after John's imprisonment, as to place, in Galilee and its neighbourhood, until he went up once for all to Jerusalem, from which he never returned. John, on the contrary, makes his ministry commence before the Baptist's imprisonment, places the calling of two of the same disciples, Andrew and Peter, while Jesus was a follower of the Baptist, and mentions three or four visits to Jerusalem before the final entry on the back of an ass. Moreover, the discourses recorded in John are very unlike the discourses in the other three narratives, and, what strikes as very remarkable, there are no parables in the fourth Gospel. Here, then, are two witnesses, followers of Jesus, giving different and irreconcilable accounts of his ministry, his wanderings, his public utterances, his miracles; agreeing, indeed, thus far, that they both record two of the last, but even with these two (see the two paragraphs marked 9 and i above) at variance with each other in several details. Of two ordinarily intelligent eye-witnesses can it be that one would represent Jesus as "sending the multitude away," and the other as "departing from them," and the multitude next day being in the same place? or would one assert that he "constrained his disciples to take ship" and the other that he left his disciples, and that they took ship afterwards of their own accord? And yet this is what two, not ordinarily intelligent--for as to that nothing is known--but divinely inspired and divinely guided eye-witnesses affirm. The miracles recorded in the four gospels are all of a benevolent character, except the cursing of the fig-tree and the permission given to the devils to go into the herd of swine. But notwithstanding "the good-will to men" thus displayed, the Gospels avow that Jesus' wonder-working failed to convince or to captivate by far the greater part of his contemporaries. Chorazin, Bethsaida, Tyre, Sidon, and Capernaum are all denounced, and assigned a doom more terrible than that of Sodom and Gomorrah, because of their unbelief. And against this general contemporaneous unbelief what is there to place? The single testimony of Matthew the publican for a score of miracles which he is said to have witnessed, confirmed by the hearsay testimony of Mark and Luke, but quite unsupported by the testimony of John the Galilean fisherman, who is also said to have witnessed them. Again, the single testimony of John, unsupported by Matthew, Mark, and Luke, for five most marvellous events, including the raising from the dead of a man who had been some time buried. The united testimony, weakened by divergence in detail, of Matthew and John, for only two of the alleged miracles, and the hearsay account of Luke for the raising from the dead of the son of the widow of Nain, quite unsupported by either Matthew or John. And then recurs the question: Would an Almighty maker of the universe, wishing to show compassion to his creatures, and to accredit, not only to the men living at the time of his appearance, but to all subsequent ages, by undoubted testimonies, a messenger from himself (the son of his own right hand), and to accredit him, moreover, by such testimonies as were most suited to the comprehension of men, have allowed the record of these credentials, on belief or unbelief on which the eternal doom of each individual man henceforth would depend, to rest on evidence so worthless--taken at its very best--as this? 2. The following miraculous events are ascribed to the apostles:-- Acts ii. 1-13. The gift of tongues. " ii. 43. Wonders and signs generally. " iii. 1-11. Cure of lame man by Peter and John. " v. 1-11. The yielding up the ghost by Ananias and Sapphira at the word of Peter. " v. 15, 16. Cures at the least shadow of Peter. " v. 17-20. Opening of the prison for Peter and John by the angel of the Lord. " vi. 8. Stephen's wonders and miracles. " viii. 5-8. Cures by Philip of unclean spirits, and of the palsied and lame. " ix. 13-22. Ananias cures Saul of blindness. " ix. 32-35. Cure by Peter of one sick of the palsy. " ix. 36-43. Peter restores Dorcas to life. Acts x. 1-48. Angel-appearance to Cornelius; trance of Peter. " xii. 7-10. Opening of the prison for Peter by an angel of the Lord. " xiii. 8-11. Blinding of Elymas by Paul. " xiv. 3. Signs and wonders generally by Paul and Barnabas. " xiv. 8-10. Cure of a cripple by Paul. " xvi. 16-18. Curing a damsel possessed by a spirit of divination. " xvi. 25-27. Earthquake while Paul and Silas were singing praises to God in the stocks at Philippi. " xix. 6. Disciples at Ephesus speaking with tongues when Paul laid his hands on them. " xix. 11, 12. Diseases and evil spirits expelled by aprons and handkerchiefs taken from Paul's body. " xix. 15. Testimony of the evil spirit to Jesus and Paul. " xx. 9-12. Restoration of Eutychus by Paul. " xxviii. 4. Viper shaken off Paul's hand without hurting him. " xxviii. 8. Bloody flux and other diseases cured. These wondrous occurrences rest on the record of Luke alone. The earlier portion, if not the whole of them, had taken place before the Gospels were written. The gift of tongues would have been vividly present to the minds of Matthew and John, who were among the recipients of this marvellous endowment. Mark (Acts xii. 12) would certainly have been aware of the grave events connected with the death-dooming, life-restoring, prison-opening Peter. A single chapter at the end of the gospel of either Matthew, John, or Mark would have been sufficient to contain the confirmation of the more important of these wonders, and surely so much might have been expected from the "divinely-chosen" witnesses, those whose mission it was to declare the whole counsel of God, to testify to each divine confirmation within their knowledge of the truth of the Gospel. What, then, can be said of their silence? Who was Luke that they should have left so important a duty to him? Previous to Acts xvi. 10 (where the "we" in the narrative commences), Luke was not, so far as can be gathered, an eye-witness of any of the events he relates, and his informant is unknown. Nor does he profess to have been an eye-witness of the Ephesian disciples speaking with tongues, the cures, and the testimony of the evil spirit mentioned in Acts xix. 6, 15. He was present at the restoration of Eutychus, but it is not altogether clear whether he means to describe this as a miracle. The only others of which he was an eye-witness are the casting out of the spirit of divination (Acts xvi. 16-18), and what are mentioned in chap, xxviii. His reference to the "spirit of divination" as a real power shows that he was imbued with the common superstition, that he recognised the "abominations of those nations" denounced by Moses. In chap, xxviii. the innocuous viper can scarcely be regarded as a miracle, and possibly the bloody flux and other diseases may have given way to other treatment over and above the praying and laying on of Paul's hands. The general contradiction between Luke in the Acts and Paul in his Epistles with reference to Paul's movements, will be fully detailed in considering the testimonies to the resurrection of Jesus. At the very best, therefore, scarcely any one of the apostolic miracles can be said to rest on the testimony of a single eye-witness. They are discredited by the silence of the actual eye-witnesses, Matthew and John, whose records, it is here assumed, exist; and Luke's credibility is, moreover, greatly affected by the serious conflict of testimony between himself and Paul. (See Chap. V.) The healing power claimed for the apostles quite rivals that of Jesus. Cures were effected by the least shadow of Peter, and by "handkerchiefs and aprons from Paul's body." Two of the miracles, however, differ from those of Jesus in that they are of a vindictive nature. These are the doom of Ananias and Sapphira, and the blinding of Elymas. A more effective weapon for priestly domination and exaction than the sudden death of Ananias and Sapphira--no time for repentance allowed--because they deceived the apostles as to the price their property fetched, could not have been devised. Peter's question, "Sold ye the land for so much," shows the inquisitorial tendency, so wonderfully developed under the Christian name among all sects and creeds in later times. So far as can be gathered from the Gospels, the fare on which Jesus and his disciples lived was a poor one. Bread and fish are mentioned; wine only once, at the last supper; but this is not confirmed by John. And how their food was come by is left doubtful. Luke states that certain women followed Jesus, who ministered to him of their substance. And John relates that as soon as the raising of Lazarus from the dead became known, the chief priests sought to arrest Jesus, when he went away to the city Ephraim, near to the wilderness, and there continued with his disciples. Here was a remarkable shrinking from the chief priests of one who had power to restore life to the dead. Six days before the Passover he came again to Bethany, where he had supper with the raised Lazarus and his sisters, Martha and Mary. Martha served; Mary anointed his feet with costly ointment, and wiped his feet with her hair. Judas Iscariot grumbled at the waste: "Why," he said, "was not this ointment sold for three hundred pence and given to the poor?" Jesus replied that she had done it against the day of his burying. The narrator--John, as we assume, a companion of Jesus--adds, "This he said not that he cared for the poor, but because he was _a thief, and had the bag, and bare what was put therein_." Most marvellous! for what do such expressions as to the vocation of Judas imply? Was he but a type of those who, under the authority of the name and supernatural pretensions of his master, under various lofty titles, from "holy" to "reverend," with intensifying adjectives prefixed, have since imposed upon mankind, controlled rulers and deluded nations, opposed freedom and denounced enlightenment, for the sake of their order, their influence, their position, their emoluments? But, in whatever way they maintained themselves, their life was a poor one. "The Son of man had not where to lay his head." When, therefore, the apostles found that their testimony to the resurrection of Jesus brought about such a result as is described Acts iv. 32-35, the change must have been a most agreeable one to them. "And the multitude of them that believed were of one heart and of one soul; neither said any of them that ought of the things which he possessed was his own; and they had all things common. And with great power gave the apostles witness of the resurrection of the Lord Jesus; and great grace was upon them all. Neither was there any among them that lacked; for as many as were possessors of lands or houses sold them, and brought the prices of the things that were sold, and laid them down at the apostles' feet; and distribution was made unto every man according as he had need." Here were they (assuming Luke's account to be true) leaders of a communistic society, where all were well cared for, instead of earning a hard livelihood as fishermen, or wandering about Galilee and Judea as mendicants or otherwise; and even with the persecution it is said to have brought from the Jewish rulers, the change must have been in every way preferable. What more favourable opportunity than this could have been found, "while they were giving themselves continually to prayer and the ministry of the word," too busy even to attend to the distribution of charity, to settle the accounts they were to propagate of Jesus' life and teaching, his miraculous deeds, his resurrection and ascension, and to mould them, so far as possible, in accordance with the Jewish prophecies of the Messiah? But whether the wonders of the four gospels originated thus or otherwise, Truth, ever triumphant in the end, confounds the devices of designing, as well as the illusions of weak-minded men, and reveals to her worshippers the flaws and the hollowness that invariably characterise evidence in support of superhuman pretence, intended to exercise sway over the consciences of men. CHAPTER IV. THE FULFILMENT OF PROPHECY If it be assumed that the canonical books of the Old and New Testaments were written by those whose names they bear, and that they have been handed down intact, prophecies uttered from Moses to Malachi, b.c. 1500 to B.C. 400, fulfilled in the person of Jesus in so complete a manner as to show that they could refer in their entirety to no one else, would be not only a most trustworthy credential to Jesus himself, but also a conclusive proof of the divine inspiration of those who uttered them, the power of foretelling the remote future--all the more of foretelling the supernatural--being clearly an attribute of an Almighty alone. Peter refers to the "more sure word of prophecy, whereunto ye do well to take heed, as unto a light that shineth in a dark place," and he states that "holy men of God spake as they were moved by the Holy Ghost." If, on the other hand, the prophecies arrogated to Jesus are properly applicable to events altogether unconnected with his life and alleged mission, and if there are strained and untenable appropriations of Old Testament passages by the writers of the New Testament, the claim of the New Testament to be a development and fulfilment of the Old will be altogether destroyed, and the candour of its writers discredited. This portion of the inquiry, therefore, is of very great importance. In the writings of the Christian clergy, almost every incident recorded in the Old Testament is explained by some method, more or less ingenious, as typical of the Messiah as represented by Jesus. But the present inquiry, with two or three exceptions, will be confined to the instances claimed by the writers of the New Testament as fulfilments of Jewish prophecy. It is clear that if these cannot' be maintained, neither can any subsequent interpretations. (a.) _Prophecies claimed for John the Baptist_ _First_.--Malachi iii. 1; Luke vii. 27. In the passage in Malachi there are three designations:-- 1. "My messenger," i.e., the angel of the Lord. 2. "The Lord whom ye seek." 3. "The messenger (angel) of the covenant whom ye de-light in." And the words "He shall come" indicate that all these titles are meant for the same person. Now, in Exodus there are various allusions to the angel of the Lord preceding his people Israel. Chap. xiv. 19,--"And the angel of God, which went before the camp of Israel, removed and went behind them." Chap, xxiii. 20,--"Behold, I send an angel before thee, to keep thee in the way, and to bring thee into the place which I have prepared. Beware of him... for my name is in him." Similar passages are Exodus xxxii. 34; xxxiii. 2-14; Numbers xx. 16. The manifestation, therefore, expected by Malachi was of the dread angel of the covenant so revered in the Mosaic writings. Most Christians believe that this angel was Jesus the Messiah himself. But Luke, altering the quotation from "me" to "thee," affirms that Jesus himself applied it to John the Baptist. If the quotation in Luke is not from Malachi, but part of Exodus xxiii. 20 just referred to, "thee" is correct, but it still implies that John the Baptist and the angel of the Exodus were one. Who has made the mistake? Jesus in ascribing this quotation to John, or Luke in making Jesus so ascribe it? _Second_.--Malachi iv. 5; Luke i. 16, 17; Matthew xi. 14; xvii. 11-13; Mark ix. 11-13. The Elijah of Malachi was to come "to you" (Israel), (1.) Before the great and terrible day of the Lord; (2.) to turn the heart of the fathers to the children, and the heart of the children to their fathers; (3.) lest I (the Lord) come and smite the earth with a curse. Luke's authoritative angel predicted that John was, (1.) To go before him (Jesus) in the spirit and power of Elias; (2.) to turn the hearts of the fathers to the children, and the disobedient to the wisdom of the just; (3.) to make ready a people prepared-for the Lord. Jesus states of John, (1.) If ye will receive it, this is Elias which was for to come; (2.) "Elias truly shall first come and restore all things. But I say unto you, that Elias is come already, and they knew him not, but have done unto him whatsoever they listed," Mark adds, "as it is written of him." It is certainly nowhere written (in the Old Testament) that the people Elijah is to be sent among are to do _to him_ whatsoever _they_ list. The Elijah of Malachi is _to turn them_, and this, by the account of the New Testament writers, John the Baptist did not accomplish. _Third_.--Isa.mh. xl. 3; Matt. iii. 3; Mark i. 2, 3; Luke iii. 4-6; John i. 23. If Isaiah's doctrine implies that before the majesty of the eternal, the infinite, universe, the distinctions of brief-lived mortals disappear, and that its glory and its operations are open to all flesh alike to behold and to investigate; that though we shall perish, it, in one or other of its various forms, will evermore endure,--then the "voice of one crying in the wilderness" may still refresh and cheer the human heart, whether it be the voice of Isaiah, John the Baptist, or any other seer or man. What it proclaims is the heritage of all. (b.) _Claim of Jesus to be the seed of the woman who bruised the serpent's head_. Genesis iii. 15; Matt. iii. 17; xiii. 38; xxiii. 33; John viii. 44; 1 John iii. 8; Heb. ii. 14, 15; Kev. xii. 9; xx. 2. By believers that Jesus is the Christ the passage in Genesis is held to be a prophecy that received its fulfilment in him. He was the seed of the woman who bruised the head of the serpent, by restoring that portion of the human race who believe in him to the divine favour lost through the wiles of the serpent. The serpent is Satan, his seed mankind in their natural state; they bruised the heel (not a deadly part) of the seed of the woman by crucifying Christ. Jesus, who merely laid down his life that he might take it again, and thus expiated the sins of his people, in turn bruised the head (a deadly part) of the serpent. Such is the meaning of Genesis iii. 15, indicated by the writers of the New Testament four thousand years after the words are said to have been uttered by God. Will the passage then bear any such interpretation? The serpent tempted Eve to eat of the fruit of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil; she induced her husband to do the same. For this the three were sentenced thus:-- 1. __The man, that he should eat bread by the sweat of his brow through culture of the ground, cursed for his sake, until his return to the dust from whence he came. This is perfectly clear: it admits of no double interpretation. 2. _The woman_, that she should bring forth in pain, and be in subjection to her husband. This is also quite plain, and in accordance with natural fact, whether the cause be the eating of the forbidden fruit or not. 3. _The serpent_, that he should go upon his belly, that he should eat dust, that he should hate mankind, that mankind should hate him, that men should bruise his head, that he should bruise men's heel. Is there anything here beyond natural fact more than in the case of the man or woman? Men trample on serpents, serpents bite men from heel to knee; they cannot as a rule strike higher. What else, then, can be said of all these passages, than that they are exact descriptions of the lot on earth of men, women, and serpents, whether or not caused by eating the forbidden fruit? What is certain, however, is that this lot has not been reversed, or even alleviated by the coming of Jesus. Men live on the fruits of the ground brought forth by culture, until they decay and die; women bear children in pain; serpents crawl along the ground as before. If these are the works of the devil, why has Jesus not destroyed them? Why since his advent do they exist as before? He has expiated guilt, he has ascended into heaven, all power is his in heaven and in earth. Why then does the devil still triumph on earth? Why do the so-called curses, which the serpent's temptation of Eve brought, continue. Jesus, it is said, is to destroy the works of the devil, but only in those who believe in him, and even in their case not in this world. When he comes again in glory he is to raise their bodies, he is to give them a new heaven and a new earth, those now existing being destroyed. The bodies of those who do not believe are also to be raised, but are to be given over to everlasting fire. The devil, then, so far as death, toil, and suffering are concerned, is to triumph on earth over all mankind till the end of time; and to all eternity he is to triumph over the greater part, or a very great part of the human race, who through his means are to suffer the anguish of the bottomless pit. How then can it be said that Christ was manifested that he might destroy the works of the eternally triumphant devil. How has the seed of the woman bruised the head of the serpent, if Jesus was the seed and the devil the serpent? It is clear, if Christian doctrine be true, that the devil, by the curses he has brought on men--death, toil, child-bearing pangs--is to reign victorious on earth over the whole human race, and is also in eternity to reign victorious over a great part of the human race doomed to everlasting anguish. So the dominion of the evil One is to be eternal, Jesus and what he has done notwithstanding. It may here, perhaps, without impropriety, be pointed out that probably there is no more striking illustration of what has been regarded as the perfection of the art of fiction-framing than the Mosaic account of the fall of man. Aristotle (_Poet_, chap, xiv.) ascribes this art to Homer in the highest degree,--that he taught others how _to feign in a proper manner_, by making a true consequent follow a false antecedent; so that the mind, knowing the consequent to be true, is led to believe that the antecedent is true as well. In the present case, see how the natural facts of decay and death, necessary labour, child-bearing pain, and serpent-crawling and venomousness, are made to follow as results of the forbidden fruit, the serpent's vindictiveness, and Eve and Adam's surrender; so that men, knowing the natural facts to be true, have been captivated into believing that the assigned causes are also true. (c.) _Claim of Jesus to be the seed of Abraham, in whom all nations should be blessed_ (Genesis xii. 3; xviii. 18; xxii. 18; Acts iii. 25; Galatians iii. 8). The promise said to have been made by God to Abraham, that in his seed all nations of the earth should be blessed, is claimed for Jesus and for those who believe in him. His redeemed are to come out of every nation, kindred, people, and tongue, and through his mercy and merits they are to inherit the mansions of bliss evermore. He is thus the seed in whom all nations (i.e., the believing portion of all nations) of the earth (i.e., not on the earth but in heaven) shall be blessed. "By myself have I sworn, saith the Lord, for because thou hast done this thing, and hast not withheld thy son, thine only son; that in blessing I will bless thee, and in multiplying I will multiply thy seed as the stars of heaven, and as the sand which is upon the sea-shore, and thy seed shall possess the gate of his enemies; and in thy seed shall all nations of the earth be blessed, because thou hast obeyed my voice." These lofty phrases were the expression of the high aspiration and fond belief of the Jewish people, either under the sway of their lawgiver Moses (always on the assumption that he was the writer of Genesis), leading them triumphantly on to the conquest of Canaan, the home of their traditional ancestor, or when they were settled as a nation in Palestine. "In thy seed all nations of the earth shall be blessed" is, further, an expectation of the coming subjection of the human race to the law and revelation of Moses. The Gibeons presented themselves thus: "From a very far country thy servants are come because of the name of the Lord thy God;" and the following passage is brimful of the same hope: "And it shall come to pass in the last days that the mountain of the Lord's house shall be established on the top of the mountains, and shall be established above the hills, and all nations shall flow into it. And many people shall go and say, Come ye, and let us go up to the mountain of the Lord, to the house of the God of Jacob, and he will teach us of his ways, and we will walk in his paths; for out of Zion shall go forth the law, and the word of the Lord from Jerusalem." The expectation that Palestine will again be restored to the Jews, that their temple service at Jerusalem will be re-established in all its glory, and that the other nations of the earth will flock thither for enlightenment, and be guided by the precepts of the Jewish lawgivers, has certainly so far not been realised on earth. The Jewish race, to the present day, live in hope of its fulfilment. Christians explain its fulfilment figuratively by the power and attributes they ascribe to Jesus. But sober fact shows that it is a fond and, as it has proved, futile patriotic aspiration. Are the qualities of the Jewish race such as to warrant their high claim to be leaders of men--the nation which, first in divine favour and knowledge, should stand, as it were, between the Almighty and the other nations of the earth? The utmost tenacity of purpose, unfailing faith in their destiny, triumphant endurance of reverses, skill and aptitude, not only for ordinary worldly intercourse and dealing, but for the arts which charm the soul and elevate life; exalted conception of the omnipotence of the deity, in so far as to view with intense abhorrence that he should be likened to any visible creature, and, although tainted by giving a mind to the Almighty like their own (for the deity of the Pentateuch, in many respects, is but an almighty Israelite, bloodthirsty and unsparing to aliens in race and creed), still an exalted conception as compared to the gods of other nations,--all these qualities are theirs. Wherein do they fail? What is their defect? The defect of the coward--want of moral courage. Deceit and stratagem rather than open conduct are their characteristics. Abraham, for fear of his life (Genesis x. 12-20), lied and risked his wife's dishonour. Isaac (xxvi. 6-11) did the same. Jacob by vile deceit obtained his father's blessing (xxvii. 1-29), and supplanted his brother. Jacob's sons (xxxvii. 18-26), to rid themselves of their brother Joseph, of whom they were jealous, sold him as a slave, and by a stratagem led their father to think that he was killed by a wild beast. Joseph xliv. 1-13 detained his brothers by a trick. In the Exodus xi 1-3; xii. 35, 36 the Israelites, by direction _of the Lord to Moses_, under pretence of borrowing, _spoiled_ the Egyptians of their jewels of gold and silver. The warrior Joab (2 Sam. iii. 27) treacherously slew the valiant Abner. David (2 Sam. xi. 2-17) directed that Uriah the Hittite, a self-denying soldier, should be placed in the forefront of the battle, where death was certain, in order that, the husband being removed, the king might marry the wife he had already seduced. David too, on his deathbed (1 Kings ii. 1-10), charged his son Solomon to violate the oath he himself had sworn by the Lord to spare Shimei the Benjamite; and also charged him not to let the hoar head of his own general, Joab, go down to the grave in peace; and Solomon, finding specious pretexts, sent his butcher, Benaiah (1 Kings ii. 12-46), to fall on these two old men, and on his own brother Adonijah. The subsequent history of the Jews, whether as a nation or as a dispersed people, exhibits the same striking qualities, with the same fatal defect. Far be it from the nations of the earth ever to submit to such leadership. May not this remarkable people rather serve as a warning of what the highest qualities, unaccompanied with courage and open conduct, produce. (d.) _Claim of Jesus to be the "Shiloh" of Genesis_ (Genesis xlix. 10). "The sceptre shall not depart from Judah, nor a lawgiver from between his feet, until Shiloh come; and unto him shall the gathering of the people be." This prophecy, put by Moses into the mouth of the dying Jacob in the year b.c. 1689, is not claimed for Jesus by the writers of the New Testament, but is usually referred to by Christians of the present day, as one of the most conclusive instances of the fulfilment of prophecy by the advent of Jesus. Jacob's vaticination is,-- 1. That neither the sceptre nor a lawgiver shall depart from Judah. This implies that at the time of the prophecy Judah had a sceptre and a lawgiver, which was not the case. But it will be affirmed that Jacob's assertion was prophetical, that he foresaw the time when Judah would have the kingly power among his brethren, which did not occur till the time of David. 2. Until Shiloh (he whose it is) come. 3. And unto him shall the gathering of the people be, i.e., at the coming of Shiloh, the kingship, and lawgiving, and the people's allegiance shall be transferred from Judah to him. Jereboam, under whom all Israel, excepting Judah and Benjamin, revolted from the house of David, has probably the best claim to be the "Shiloh" of Genesis; but the consideration of this point, involving, as it does, inquiry into the actual date of the augury and the purpose for which it was promulgated, is quite outside the present purpose. Christians, in maintaining that Jesus is the "Shiloh," explain that the tribe of Judah did not lose self-government until Archelaus was banished by Augustus in a.d. 6, and Judea then annexed to the province of Syria. The sceptre and the lawgiver then departed from Judah: it was transferred to the wondrous child, and "the people gathered unto him" refers not to the Jewish nation, but to believers in Jesus throughout the world. Let, then, the assertion that the sceptre and a lawgiver did not depart from Judah until the time of Jesus be compared with the utterances of the prophet Jeremiah on the Babylonish captivity (Lam. i. 6; il 9; v. 11-16)--"Her king and her princes are among the Gentiles: the law is no more" is the burden of these passages. It must surely be admitted that Jeremiah was a more competent authority for determining when the sceptre and a lawgiver departed from Judah, than Christians of the present day. Clearly, then, the Shiloh of Jacob (whomever or whatever Shiloh may refer to) must have come before the Babylonish captivity, or Jacob's prophecy has been falsified. As Genesis xlix. 10, however, is not claimed by the New Testament writers for Jesus, the discrepancy in this instance between Jeremiah's views and those of modern Christians does not affect their position. (e.) _Claim of Jesus to be the successor of Moses_ (Deut. xviii. 15-22; Acts iii. 22, 23). "I will raise them up a prophet from among their brethren, like unto thee," &c. Moses in this passage so clearly refers to Joshua (see Joshua i. 1-9), who was to take his place as leader of the Israelites, that any other construction is entirely shut out. The assertion that Jesus of Nazareth, despised by his countrymen, homeless, and poor (even if he had been the son of the Eternal in disguise), in any way resembled Moses the successful warrior and lawgiver, was well put into the mouth of the rash-spoken Peter. (f1.) _Claim of Jesus to be the "Son of David"_ To establish the descent of Jesus from David, two different detailed genealogies are given by Matthew and Luke. 1. Matthew (i. 1-17) traces the descent of Joseph, the reputed father of Jesus, from Abraham, through David and Solomon, down to Salathiel and Zorobabel, and from them to Joseph, and states that there were fourteen generations from Abraham to David, the same number from David to the captivity, and the same number from the captivity to Jesus. The fourteen names given, from Abraham to David inclusive, agree with the Hebrew Chronicles; but to reduce to fourteen the names from Solomon to Jechonias, king of the first captivity, inclusive, no fewer than four persons, to wit, Ahaziah; Joash, and Amaziah, the sixth, seventh, and eighth from Solomon, and Jehoiakim, the father of Jechonias, are omitted, (1 Chron. iii.) See, for the utterly puerile fancy of breaking up Christ's descent into three equal periods of fourteen generations, how the compiler scruples not to mutilate a genealogy, the whole of which must have been before him; for it cannot be supposed that he was unacquainted with the books of Kings and Chronicles in the Old Testament! The fourteen names from Jechonias to Jesus there is no means of ascertaining from whom Matthew received. Joseph, being of the house and lineage of David, may have had a record of his descent, and Matthew may have received it either from Joseph or from one of the brothers of Jesus, or the mutilator of the second set of fourteen may readily have found the third. 2. The genealogy given by Luke (iii. 23-38) contains so striking a divergence from that of Matthew, that many professed believers in the plenary inspiration and word-infallibility of the New Testament scriptures have endeavoured to explain it away by various considerations, none of which, however, to any truth-loving mind would appear satisfactory. Luke traces the descent from Joseph backwards to Zorobabel and Salathiel through _eighteen_ persons, not one of whose names agrees with any of the _nine_ in Matthew who cover the same period, unless it be that of the grandfather of Joseph, who is called in the one list Matthan and in the other Matthat. It has been suggested that the one list contains Joseph's own ancestors, the other his ancestors in right of his wife--i.e., Mary's ancestors. But this explanation fails in view of the further divergence of tracing Salathiel's descent back, not to Solomon through the kingly line, as Matthew does, but to Nathan, another son of David. Luke or Luke's, informant is here also at variance with the Old Testament Chronicles, which trace Salathiel's descent to Solomon, and the names he inserts between Salathiel and Nathan are not found in any other record. On the question of Jesus' genealogy there remains this further consideration: If Joseph was not his real father, Joseph's descent would not make Jesus of "the seed of David according to the flesh." Whence then sprung his mother Mary? The gospels are silent Cousin Elizabeth was of the daughters of Aaron, but was Mary of the daughters of Aaron or of the daughters of David? (f2.) _Claim of Jesus to be the Son of David_ (Psalm ex. 1; Matt. xxii. 41-46). "The Lord said unto my lord," &c. Jesus asked the Pharisees. If then David in spirit called Christ Lord, how is he his son? "And no man was able to answer him a word," &c. The Pharisees must have been very ignorant of their own scriptures, if they were unable to answer the question of Jesus. "My lord," in the Old Testament, is frequently applied to superiors. Hannah called the high priest Eli "my lord." The same designation was given by David to Saul, by Abigail to David, by Abner to David. Sarah, the wife of Abraham, is specially commended in the New Testament for the respect she showed to her husband in calling him "lord." Joseph applied the same title to himself, "God hath made me lord of all Egypt." And Potiphar is called Joseph's "master," the same word translated elsewhere "lord." Psalm ex. is thus a flattering effusion to David, whom the singer designates "my lord," describing his favour with _the_ Lord (Jehovah), his ruling in the midst of his enemies, his similarity to the priest-king Melchisedek, and his success in war. (g.) _Claim of Jesus to be "Immanuel"_ (Isaiah vii. 10-16; viii. 1-8; Matt. i. 21-23). The prophecy in Isaiah refers to a sign to be given to Ahaz, King of Judea, to encourage him under the invasion, or threatened invasion, of his country by the kings of Syria and Israel. The sign was to be,--1. The conception by a virgin of a son; 2. that she should call his name "Immanuel," translated "God with us;" 3. the removal of the kings of Syria and Israel before the child emerged from infancy. Following on this, and in continuation of the same subject, Isaiah narrates,--1. That he went unto the prophetess, the result being that she bore a son; 2. that the Lord told him to call his name "Maber-shalal-hash-baz," translated "making speed to the spoil he hasteneth the prey;" 3. the removal by the superior force of the Assyrian monarch of the riches of Damascus and the spoils of Samaria, before the child could cry "father" or "mother." The plain meaning, then, of all this is that the sign was to be given to Ahaz,--if realised, it must necessarily have been realised in his lifetime; also that the overthrow of Syria and Israel was to take place during the infancy of the child. To affirm, as Matthew does, that it is a prophecy _fulfilled_ by a birth that occurred seven centuries after the events it refers to, surely requires an unbounded credulity. Does the prophet refer to two children, "Immanuel" and "Maher-shalal-hash-baz"? Or was the prophetess "the virgin," and these two names bestowed on her child? The condition applying equally to both names, that Syria and Israel were to be overrun during the infancy of the child, is almost conclusive in favour of the latter construction. Isaiah had thus taken immediate steps to ensure the fulfilment of his prophecy. The word translated "virgin" is not the same as is used in such passages as Gen. xxiv. 16, Lev.xxi. 3, and may have been applicable to any modest and chaste married woman. The mother in calling the child Immanual, followed the common Hebrew custom of forming names by combining an appropriate phrase with the word "El," God. Thus Hagar was directed by the angel in the wilderness to call her son "Ishmael," "God who hears." Hannah too named the son she had longed and prayed for "Samuel," "asked of God". The sign to Ahaz was thus, in the extremity he was relieved from, most appropriately named "Immanuel," "God with us," or "God on our side;" and the same name in the next chapter (Isaiah viii. 8) is applied to the deity himself, "the breadth of thy land, O Immanuel," i.e., "God on our side." In any reading of Isaiah's prophecy it cannot be inferred that the conception of the virgin was to be by supernatural power. Nor from one end of the Jewish scriptures to the other is there the slightest support to such a notion as the deity begetting a mortal child by a mortal woman. (h.) _Claim of Jesus to be the "Great Light" seen by the dwellers in Zebidon and Naphtali, and the "Wonderful," the "Counsellor," the "Establisher of the throne of David" &c._ (Isaiah ix. 1-7; Matt. iv. 12-16; Luke i. 32, 33; Psalm xvi. 10; Acts ii. 29-31; xiii. 35-37.) Zebulon and Naphtali were the two most northerly tribes of Israel. Their territories extended from the borders of the kingdom of Syria southwards, on the west of Jordan, to rather below the point where that river issues from the Lake of Galilee. In warlike expeditions they were generally associated: "Zebulon and Naphtali were a people that jeoparded their lives unto the death in the high places of the field" (Judges v. 18). Thus situated, their country was always the first to be overrun in an invasion from the north. Isaiah ix. 1 refers to two such invasions, the second more severe than the first. Then (ix. 2-5) he glorifies Jehovah ("thou" will be held to apply to Jehovah) for a deliverance from an oppression of Judah in some degree similar, though not so severe as the second affliction of Zebulon and Naphtali. This deliverance refers either to the retreat of the kings of Syria and Israel from before Jerusalem (Isaiah vii. 1), or more probably relief from the overflowing of the king of Assyria (Isaiah viii. 7, 8). The entire prophecy of Isaiah, it must be kept in view, had reference to Judah and Jerusalem (Isaiah i. 1). It will be noticed that Isaiah in all this is referring to past events. Then (chap. ix. 7, 8) he refers to the birth of a child which had already taken place, who is to be called "Wonderful," "Counsellor," "the Mighty God," "the Everlasting Father," "the Prince of Peace," &c. In two of these expressions he follows the Hebrew custom already mentioned, of forming names by combining an adjective or other phrase with the designation of the Almighty. He goes on to affirm that this child shall rule in Judah on the throne of David; that there shall be no end of his government and peace; that he will order and establish the kingdom with judgment and justice for evermore. What child is the prophet referring to?--"Immanuel" of the seventh chapter, or "Maher-shalal-hash-baz" of the eighth chapter? Clearly not; for if they are two names of the same child, he was the son of Isaiah and the prophetess, whereas the child of the ninth chapter is to sit on the throne of David. Was the reference then to Hezekiah, written in his youth, when indications of the zeal for the law and ritual of Moses, which distinguished his reign, may have appeared? Most likely; but whether or not, it is clear that the "child" referred to _was born_ when Isaiah wrote, and had not yet begun to reign. The phrases "no end" and "henceforth even for ever," may be compared with Psalm lxxxix. 3, 4,--"I have made a covenant with my chosen, I have sworn unto David my servant, thy seed will I establish for ever, and build up thy throne to all generations." These lofty anticipations have not been realised. Where is the throne of David? The two first verses of the ninth chapter of Isaiah are claimed for Jesus by Matthew. In quoting them he leaves out the portion referring to the invasion of Zebulon and Naphtali. Galilee of the nations, or populous Galilee, is called Galilee of the Gentiles, and is referred to as the same as Zebulon and Naphtali; whereas Isaiah makes a distinction, Galilee in his view probably being the southern part of Zebulon westward to the sea, including Asher. Matthew, however, boldly affirms that the visit of Jesus to Capernaum was the fulfilment of Isaiah ix. 1, 2,--the fulfilment, that is, of what Isaiah, when he wrote, considered already past. But if the citizens of Capernaum in Jesus' time were the "people that walked in darkness," and Jesus was the "great light" which they saw shining upon them "in the land of the shadow of death" (the contrast between the passage in Isaiah and this puerile so-called fulfilment of it is too absurd to be discussed seriously), they nowise appreciated their good fortune. Shortly Jesus denounced the city thus,--"And thou, Capernaum, which art exalted unto heaven, shalt be brought down to hell: for if the mighty works, which have been done in thee, had been done in Sodom, it would have remained unto this day." Certainly there had been no deliverance for Capernaum. The passage in Luke i. 32, 33, implies, and it is held by Christians generally, that the promises of Jehovah by the mouth of his prophets to David, with reference to the stability of his kingdom, were fulfilled in Jesus. These promises occur in the Old Testament in many forms, thus:-- 1. That after David's death his seed should succeed to his throne, generation after generation, without end (2 Sam. vii. 12-16; Psalm lxxxix. 20-37). He was God's holy one, who should not see corruption; his soul would not be left in hell (the grave). To David's line would be applicable evermore what is said of the king of our own country, "who never dies," "The king is dead: long live the king." 2. That if his descendants should break the divine laws, they would be chastened, but not "put away from" the kingdom, as in the case of Saul (2 Sam. vii. 14, 45; Psalm lxxxix. 30-37). Now, as undoubted matter of fact, the Babylonish captivity was the falsification of all such vaticinations, more particularly of that which affirmed that the descendants of David should not be treated as Saul was. If they sinned they were to be chastened, not deposed. In the return from Babylon, Zerubbabel is the only descendant of David mentioned as in authority, and after him there is nothing to show that even one of the royal line, far less any succession of the royal line, exercised sway over the Jews. The government passed to the "high priests." Jehovah had _not_ "sworn in truth unto David." But leaping over the indubitable falsification of the prediction by the overthrow of the "throne of David" in Nebuchadnezzar's invasion, and the fact that from the time of Zerubbabel the "line" of David had sunk into obscurity, it is claimed for Jesus that he was the "real" son of David referred to, that he has risen from the dead and has ascended into heaven. He saw no corruption; he reigns now in the hearts of his people. He will be their king for evermore, when he returns to earth "to take to him his great power and reign." Is this grand hope of the Christian, then, to prove as misleading as the Jewish anticipation of the everlasting throne of David? or has Jesus actually risen from the dead? The consideration of the evidence of the resurrection will form Chap. V. of this inquiry. (i.) _Prophecies claimed in connection with the birth of Jesus_, 1. Micah v. 2; Matt. ii. 4-6. Compare Micah with Psalm cxxxii., where David vows, "I will not give sleep to my eyes, or slumber to my eyelids, until I find out a place for the Lord, an habitation for the mighty God of Jacob. Lo, we heard of it at Ephratah, we found it in the fields of the wood.... Arise, O Lord, into thy rest, thou, and the ark of thy strength." "The mighty God of Jacob" corresponds to the ruler of Israel, "whose goings forth have been of old from everlasting." Micah may be referring to the deity in some connection, not now at all clear, with his habitation heard of at Ephratah, whence his laws, or other manifestations of his power, were to proceed. The passage in Matthew is in connection with the incredible story of the wise men of the East; and it represents the Jewish priests assuring Herod that the Ruler of Israel, whose goings forth were of old from everlasting, was _to be born_ in Bethlehem, not, as the prophecy states, that he was to come forth from there to be ruler. The twisting of the passage is very disingenuous. 2. Hosea ii. 15; xi. 1; Matt. ii. 14. Hosea clearly refers to the exodus under Moses: his expressions are in the past tense. Matthew's application of them to Jesus requires no comment. 3. Jeremiah xxxi. 15; Matt. ii. 17, 18. Ramah was in the country of Benjamin, whose descendants are called the children of Rachel, his mother. Jeremiah's prophecy clearly refers to their captivity in Babylon and their expected return. What can be said of Matthew's application of it to an alleged massacre at Bethlehem in the country of Judah, six centuries after the captivity? In no sense were the descendants of Judah the children of Rachel. Rachel died, and was buried at or near Bethlehem; but surely no one, not even the most credulous Christian, will assert that this makes her the mother of the line of Judah, afterwards settled there. Moreover, Jeremiah's reference is to Ramah, and cannot apply to Bethlehem. 4. Matt. ii. 23. Because Jesus was taken as a child to Nazareth, and brought up there, it is asserted that he fulfilled what was spoken by the prophets, "He shall be called a Nazarene." Nowhere in the Old Testament can this be found. If a Nazarite is meant--one unshaven, and an abstainer from wine and strong drink--the character does not apply to Jesus, who "came eating and drinking." But a Nazarite was the designation of an order, not a name for the dweller in any particular locality. Nazarene was the earlier designation of the disciples of Jesus. They were called Christians first at Antioch (Acts xi. 26). (j.) _The temple-purging_ (Psalm lxix. 9; John ii. 17). The circumstance referred to in the passage from John is that Jesus at passover-time, before the Baptist's imprisonment, went up to Jerusalem, entered into the temple, and let loose his indignation by driving out the money-changers, the cattle-dealers, and dove-sellers with a scourge of small cords, upsetting their tables, and pouring out their money. "Take these things hence," he said, "make not my Father's house a house of merchandise." Matthew xxi. 12, 13; Mark xi. 15-17; and Luke xix. 45, 46, differ from John, in so far that they place this temple-purging at the time of Jesus' final entry into Jerusalem. Could such an extraordinary breach of the peace have occurred in any country under a Roman governor, without summary justice on the offender? Upsetting money-dealers' tables, pouring out their money, overturning the seats of the sellers of doves, and driving them from their stands, for which most probably they paid custom, if not to the state, to the temple-priests, and the disturber allowed to go away scot-free in any orderly community! Utterly incredible. And such conduct ascribed to one for whom the power and attributes of the Almighty are claimed! (k.)_The entrance into Jerusalem on the back of an ass_ (Zech. ix. 9; Matt. xxi. 4-6). The meekness of Jesus on this occasion is scarcely borne out by the scene referred to in last paragraph (j.) which, according to Matthew, followed immediately on his entrance into the city. The prophecy of Zechariah was during the building of the second temple, and most probably referred to the lowly appearance made by Zerubbabel, the prince of Judah, as compared to that of his royal ancestors. (1.) _The scene in the synagogue of Nazareth_ (Isaiah lxi; 1; Luke iv. 16-21). Isaiah's high-sounding prophecy is said to have been fulfilled thus-- 1. Jesus went to Nazareth, where he had been brought tip, and as his custom was he entered the synagogue on the sabbath day, and stood up to read. The book of the prophet Esaias being delivered to him, he read part of this passage. Then he closed the book, gave it again to the minister, and sat down. 2. The eyes of all in the synagogue were fastened on him, and he began to declare, "This day is this scripture fulfilled in your ears." Wondering at these gracious words, they inquired, "Is not this Joseph's son?" 3. He retorted that no prophet is accepted in his own country, and cited cases from the Old Testament where, in times of extremity, no more than one favoured individual was relieved by the timely arrival of a prophet sent from God. (Contrast this with the prophecy, "to comfort all that mourn.") 4. Roused to wrath by this intimation, they sought to cast him headlong from the rock on which their city was built; "but he passing through the midst of them, went his way." Words have no meaning, if such a scene as this can be called the fulfilment of Isaiah's prophecy. (m.) _The bruised reed and the smoking flax_ (Isaiah xlii. 1; Matt. xii. 14-21). How could the "servant upheld by Jehovah" fulfil the prophecy by shrinking from the Pharisees in the way Jesus is reported by Matthew to have done? (n.) "_Eyes to see, and see not; ears to hear, and hear not_" (Isa. vi. 9-12; xxix. 10; Jer. v. 21; Ezek. xii. 2; Matt. xiii. 10-17; John xii. 39-41; Acts xxviii. 24-28; Rom. xi. 8-10). The prophets prophesied to a heedless people. Jesus and his followers are reported to have done the same. So have many others at various times. The appropriation to Jesus of the language in which the Jewish prophets expressed their disappointment is no proof that that language was meant to apply to him rather than to themselves. Hab. i. 5, 6; Acts xiii. 40, 41. Habakkuk and the bitter and hasty Chaldeans contrast strangely with Paul and his warning to the Jews not to disbelieve his assertions with reference to Jesus. (o.) "_I will open my mouth in parables_" (Psalm lxxviii. 2; Matt. xiii. 34, 35). This is a very flagrant instance of misquotation and misapplication. The Psalmist says that he will utter dark sayings of old, "_which we have heard and known, and our fathers have told us_." Jesus is described by Matthew as fulfilling a prophecy to the effect that he would utter things "_which have been kept secret from the foundation of the world_." (p.) "_The stone rejected by the builders_" (Psalm cxviii.;22; Matt. xxi. 42, 43; Mark xii. 10; Luke xx. 17; Acts iv. 11). Psalm cxviii. is written by one who was praising the Lord for some triumph he had obtained over danger and difficulty; who had secured his end against his enemies, who had attained the head of the corner, though rejected by the builders. The application in Matthew is that Jesus, rejected by the Jews, should be accepted by the Gentiles, or by another nation than the Jews. This has come to pass. His own countrymen, even his own brethren, who were in a position to judge of the truth of his supernatural claims, rejected him. The nations of Europe, who were not in a position so to judge, have, under various forms, called themselves by his name, and adored him as their God. But this in no way shows that Psalm cxviii. was written with reference to any other than the person who composed it. (q.) _The betrayal by Judas Iscariot_ (Zech. xi. 11-13; Psalm lxix. 25; cix. 8; Matt, xxvii. 9, 10; Acts i. 16-20). Peter thus narrates the fate of Judas: "Now this man purchased a field with the reward of his iniquity (the thirty pieces of silver), and falling headlong he burst asunder in the midst, and all his bowels gushed out. And it was known to all the dwellers in Jerusalem, insomuch as that field is called in their proper tongue, Aceldama, that is to say, the field of blood." Compare this with Matthew, who states that Judas, repenting of his conduct, took back the thirty pieces of silver to the chief priests; said he had betrayed innocent blood; they answered, "What is that to us? see thou to that." On this he cast down the money in the temple, and went and hanged himself. The chief priests would not put the money in the treasury, because it was the price of blood, but laid it out in purchasing the potter's field to bury strangers in. Matthew and Peter are thus quite irreconcilable. Both were companions of Jesus and Judas; both were present at and cognisant of the whole circumstances of the betrayal; Matthew was present during Peter's speech recorded in the Acts; and yet the discrepancy between them is such as entirely to discredit both their statements. The circumstances alluded to in Zechariah are unknown. The passages from the Psalms are applicable to Saul, or some other of David's enemies; indeed, they may be used by any one against a traitor or enemy. (r.) _The passion_ (Zech. xiii. 7; Matt. xxvi. 31). Zechariah is writing during the troubled times, when Jerusalem was rebuilt. The particular event he alluded to is unknown. No construction of the passage can make it applicable to the desertion of the disciples when Jesus was arrested. Deut. xxi. 23; Gal. iii. 13. Hanging on a tree is not crucifixion, which was a Roman, not a Jewish practice. Exodus xii. 46; Psalms xxxiv. 20; John xix. 36. The passage in Exodus certainly refers to the Paschal lamb; the passage in the Psalms to the care the Almighty is said to take of the righteous, so that "preserving his bones whole" is equivalent to the other expression, "There shall no evil befall thee." The incident recorded by John is not confirmed by Matthew, Mark, and Luke, who make no mention of the disciples at the crucifixion, and say that the women beheld afar off. John, on the contrary, says that he, along with the women, was by the cross, so near that Jesus spoke to himself and Mary. This incident, so pointedly given as an eye-witnessed fact, seems to have been devised to give the crucifixion some resemblance to the lamb of the Passover. But the modes of death surely were very different. If any such resemblance was necessary, should it not have been complete? Zech. xii. 9; John xix. 37. The spirit of grace and supplication poured out on the inhabitants of Jerusalem during the crucifixion of Jesus, when they cried, "Not this man, but the robber Barabbas," is a wondrous contradiction. Psalm xxij. 18; Matt, xxvii. 35; Mark xv. 24; Luke xxiii. 34; John xix. 23. The practice of casting lots for the clothes of the crucified may have been a common one among the Roman soldiers at the time, and it corresponds admirably to one of David's expressions when he was in adversity and trouble. (s.) _Daniel's seventy weeks_ (Daniel ix. 21-27). The only allusion in the New Testament to this prophecy is in Matt. xxiv. 14, 15; Mark xv. 13, 14, where Jesus directs his disciples to flee to the mountains when they see the abomination of desolation, spoken of by Daniel the prophet, stand on the holy place. Between Nebuchadnezzar and Titus, however, there were two, if not more, "abominations of desolation," equally answering to Daniel's description. So far as it relates to the Messiah, the Prince, or the Anointed Prince, it is not claimed for Jesus by any of the New Testament writers. But by modern Christians it is held to be a prophecy of the exact time that elapsed between the edict to restore Jerusalem and the death of Christ. Each week is said to be a week of years: thus seventy weeks are 490 years, and from the letter of Artaxerxes granted to Ezra (Ezra vii.), b.c. 457, to the death of Jesus, a.d. 33, there are exactly 490 years. What is this but a mere reckoning back of 490 years from a.d. 33, so that the chronology has been fixed by the prophecy, not the truth of the prophecy proved by the chronology? But the letter of Artaxerxes to Ezra was not a commandment to rebuild Jerusalem: it was given to him to further him on his way from Babylon to Jerusalem, _already rebuilt_. The commandment to restore and rebuild Jerusalem was that of the first of Cyrus alone (ordinary Christian chronology, b.c. 536); the prophecy asserts that it went forth at the beginning of Daniel's supplication, and the subsequent decrees were only confirmations of the original one, (Ezra vi.) The statement of Gabriel is in answer to Daniel's supplication for mercy and favour to be shown to Jerusalem, and, commencing with a commandment to rebuild, ends in doleful desolation. But as the Messiah, the anointed one referred to, is not asserted by New Testament writers to be Jesus, it is sufficient here to point out the untenable ground on which modern Christians make this claim on his behalf. (t.) _The fifty-third chapter of Isaiah_. This chapter may most fairly be interpreted as having reference to Hezekiah in the various troubles of his reign and life, described 2 Kings xix. and xx.; 2 Chron. xxx. and xxxii., and Isaiah xxxvi., xxxvii., and xxxviii. Isaiah was the seer of the time. Hezekiah "cut off out of the land of the living" refers to the sentence of death, afterwards postponed, against him for his people's backsliding, though he himself wrought that which was "good, and right, and truth before the Lord his God." His "pouring out his soul unto death" agrees with the expression, "In those days Hezekiah was sick unto death." "And he was numbered with the transgressors, and bare the sin of many, and made intercession for the transgressors," also agree with, "And the Lord hearkened to Hezekiah, and healed the people;" and with, "Notwithstanding Hezekiah humbled himself for the pride of his heart, both he and the inhabitants of Jerusalem, so that the wrath of the Lord came not upon them in the days of Hezekiah." If the exact circumstances in which Isaiah liii. was written were fully known, all the seer's allusions would be very intelligible; as it is, their application to Hezekiah and his times--always assuming that Isaiah was the writer--is the most probable. The portions of this chapter claimed for Jesus in the New Testament are the following:-- Matthew viii. 16, 17. Here "his bearing our griefs" is applied by Matthew to Jesus' disease-curing wonders. But this differs from the view of modern Christians. They hold that it applies to his death on the cross as an expiation for sin. John xii. 37, 38. "Who hath believed our report" may be used by any one whose pretensions are treated with incredulity. What reason is there for imagining that Esaias meant any other than his own report? Mark xv. 27, 28; Luke xxii. 37. The "numbering among the transgressors" is equally true of any one who suffers penally for his belief, or who, innocent or little to blame himself, shares the fate of an offending community. The applicability of the passage to Hezekiah in the latter sense has just been noticed. (u.) _The gospel message_ (Luke xxiv. 44-48). Here a statement, utterly untrue, is put by Luke into the mouth of the risen Jesus. Nowhere in Moses, the prophets, or the Psalms is it written that the anointed one is to suffer and to rise from the dead on the third day. (v.) _The gift of tongues_ (Joel ii. 28-30; Acts ii. 1-4). Joel's prophecy is said to have been fulfilled on the day of Pentecost following the resurrection, when the apostles were all "with one accord in one place." 1. A sound came from heaven as of a mighty rushing wind, and filled the house where they were sitting. 2. Cloven tongues, like tongues of fire, sat on each of them. 3. They were all filled with the Holy Ghost, and began to speak with tongues as the Spirit gave them utterance. Joel, the son of Pethuel, would probably be surprised at Peter's appropriation of his prophecy. No doubt it is applicable to any general religious awakening or excitement in any land or at any time. But Joel is referring to some invasion, or threatened invasion, of Judea, and to a deliverance accompanied with a religious revival and thanksgiving. The exact circumstances in which he wrote, if known, would make his obscure allusions clear. The incidents, however, of the mighty rushing wind and the cloven fiery tongues receive no support from his prophecy. (w.) _The calling of the Gentiles_ (Amos ix. 11, 12; Acts xv. 13-16). Amos' prophecy has been falsified by the event. The Jews, who were no more to be pulled out of the land the Lord had given them, were pulled out of it eighteen centuries ago, and so remain. The disingenuous way in which James applies to the conversion of the Gentiles what is clearly a reference to a return from captivity is very striking. CHAPTER V. THE RESURRECTION AND ASCENSION OF JESUS 1. The resurrection of Jesus is the keystone of Christian faith, the central stay on which the structure rests. "If thou shalt confess with thy mouth the Lord Jesus, and believe in thine heart that God raised him from the dead, thou shalt be saved." What a glorious hope for all mankind would lie in such a fact as that one, a fellow-man, had been killed because of his supernatural claims; had lain for a time in the grave, and on the third day, as predicted by himself, had risen from the dead! So marvellous an instance of nature-controlling power might well be held to establish, in the most conclusive manner, the validity of the claims of the person resuscitated; it would show that God was with him in an especial manner, that his words were true, that his promises would not fail. 2. What, then, are the evidences of this so glorious an event? (a.) The four gospels agree in narrating that, while Jesus hung lifeless on the cross, a rich man, Joseph of Arimathea, himself a disciple of Jesus, went to Pilate and obtained permission to take charge of the body; that he laid it in his own new tomb, hewn out of a rock; that certain women saw where the body was laid, and that a great stone was rolled to the door of the tomb. (b.) Matthew alone avers that, with Pilate's consent, the chief priests and Pharisees had the stone sealed, and a watch (of Roman soldiers) set. (c.) Thus the tomb remained from the evening of the day of the crucifixion over the next day, the Jewish sabbath. (d.) But early on the morning of the following day, the first day of the week, Jesus arose from the dead. Of this event--so entirely the reverse of all human experience, but of the last importance to each mortal man if it happened--the witnesses, of whose personal character among their neighbours for veracity and general trustworthiness nothing is known, thus present themselves:-- Matthew and John, eye-witnesses of the risen Jesus: Mark, companion of Peter, an eye-witness: Luke, companion of Paul, who had intercourse with eyewitnesses, and who himself professes to narrate the testimony of eye-witnesses (Luke i. 2): And what they aver is analysed and compared in the following paragraphs:-- 3. _The empty tomb_.--All four agree that in the morning (at dawn, at sun rising, very early, when it was yet dark) of the first day of the week the tomb was found empty by those who went to visit it. 4. _Visitors to the tomb_.--Matthew mentions "Mary Magdalene and the other Mary;" Mark, "Mary Magdalene, Mary the mother of James, and Salome;" Luke, "Mary Magdalene, Joanna, Mary the mother of James, and other Galilean women," and afterwards, on the report of the women, Peter; John, "Mary Magdalene" only, and afterwards, on her report, himself (John) and Simon Peter, Mary Magdalene returning after them. 5. _Appearances at the tomb_.--(a.) The great earthquake and the awful appearance of the angel to the watch--"countenance like lightning, raiment white as snow;" and the effect on the startled soldiers, who swooned away "as dead men," as also the subsequent report of the watch and their acceptance of a bribe (large money) from the chief priests to publish a falsehood and confess that they--Roman soldiers--had slept at their post, are mentioned by Matthew alone. Matthew does not name his informant, whether it was a chief priest or one of the soldiers who betrayed his own and his comrades' infamy. (b.) The stone securing the tomb was rolled away. So all four affirm. This was one object of the angel's visit. Jesus rose from the dead, but the angel's assistance was necessary to open the tomb. (c.) Matthew asserts that the angel sat on the stone, outside the tomb. Mark, that he appeared as a young man sitting within the tomb, on the right side, clothed in a long, white garment. Luke has "two men" in glittering garments, who made themselves manifest as the perplexed women were gazing at the empty tomb. John states that Mary Magdalene, on her _second_ visit, saw two angels, one sitting at the head the other at the feet, where the body of Jesus had lain. When, according to Luke, Peter visited the tomb, or according to John, when Mary Magdalene in the first instance, and then Peter and John, on hearing her report, went there, no such marvellous angelic being was manifest. The appearance was to perplexed and timid women. Wherein did they differ from other weak women, that their testimony received at second hand should be held trustworthy? Supposing, for instance, that it had been the young man with the linen garment about his naked body (Mark xiv. 51, 52), seated within the tomb, would not their excited imaginations have transformed him into a messenger from heaven? 6. _Announcements of the angels at the tomb_.--(a.) Matthew's dread angel announced to the women that Jesus had risen from the dead, directed them to go at once and inform his disciples that "he goeth before you into Galilee, there shall ye see him." Trembling and joyful they ran away at once to bring "his disciples word." (6.) Mark's white-clad young man made the same announcement of Jesus preceding his disciples to Galilee; but instead of obeying the angel's direction as to informing the disciples, "they went out quickly and fled from the sepulchre, for they trembled and were amazed, neither said they anything to any man, for they were afraid." (c.) Luke's two bright-clad men announced that Jesus was risen, as he had told them while yet in Galilee. "They remembered his words, and returned from the sepulchre, and told all these things to the eleven and to all the rest." There is no mention here of Jesus going before his disciples into Galilee. (d.) John's two angels asked Mary Magdalene, "Woman, why weepest thou?" She replied, "Because they have taken away my lord, and I know not where they have laid him." Here, _wholly ignorant that he was alive_, stood beside the tomb one of the very women to whom Matthew, Mark, and Luke's angels announced that Jesus was risen from the dead. If Matthew's account be true, both he and John were present when the women told the disciples that Jesus was risen, and gave them the direction to go to Galilee; and yet John narrates this circumstance, one quite at variance with Matthew's angel's announcement to the women. 7. _Effect on the disciples of the first announcement of the resurrection_.--(a.) Matthew states that "then" (on the report of the women) "the eleven disciples went away into Galilee, into a mountain where Jesus had appointed them." (b.) Mark xvi. 1-8, and xvi. 9-20, seem to contain two different accounts of the resurrection. It is difficult to reconcile them. Verses 9-20, not being found in the most ancient manuscripts, are held by many to be spurious. But their general agreement with Luke's narrative is in favour of these verses being of the same age, or emanating from the same set of believers. Let verses 1-8, then, for the present purpose, be distinguished as Mark's first narrative, and verses 9-20 as Mark's second narrative. Mark's first narrative, as already shown, agrees with Matthew as to the terms of the angel's announcement, but seems to imply that the terror-struck women did not deliver the angel's message to the disciples. Mark's second narrative states that Jesus first appeared to Mary Magdalene, who went and told the disciples; "and they, when they had heard that he was alive, and had been seen of her, believed not." No departure for Galilee is mentioned. (c.) Luke affirms that the announcement to the disciples was by the whole of the women; "and their words seemed to them as idle tales, and they believed them not." Peter alone was moved to run to the sepulchre, where he found the empty tomb and the cast-off grave-clothes, and "departed, wondering in himself at that which was come to pass." The whole of Luke's statement is quite inconsistent with Matthew's assertion that the disciples went away to Galilee to find Jesus there. (d.) John states that when Mary Magdalene first reported that the tomb was empty, Peter and himself ran to the sepulchre, that he outran Peter, that he looked in and saw the linen clothes lying, that Peter when he came up went in, that then he (John) went in also, and that when he saw the cast-off grave-clothes he saw and believed: "for as yet they knew not the Scripture that he must rise from the dead." If so then Matthew xvi. 21; xvii. 22, 23; Mark viii. 31; ix. 31; Luke ix. 22, must all be erroneous. The burden of these passages is, that while in Galilee Jesus informed his disciples that he would be killed, and rise again on the third day. The very chief priests, too, in setting the watch (Matthew xxvii. 63), did so because of this well-known assertion of Jesus. When, on her second visit to the tomb, Mary Magdalene saw and conversed with Jesus himself, she "came and told the disciples that she had seen the Lord, and that he had spoken these things unto her." The effect is not mentioned. But the whole of John's statement is inconsistent with Matthew's "departure of the eleven for Galilee," and this departure again as inconsistent with John's statement. 8. _Appearances of the risen Jesus_.--(a.) Matthew xxviii. 9, 10. While Mary Magdalene and the other Mary were running to deliver the angel's message to the disciples, they were met by Jesus himself, who greeted them with an "all hail." They held him by the feet and worshipped him. He confirmed the angel's message to his disciples, and directed them to go to Galilee: "there shall they see me." Mark xvi. 9-11. Jesus, when he had risen early the first day of the week, appeared first to Mary Magdalene, out of whom he had cast seven devils. She informed his mourning disciples, who did not believe her. Luke has no incident at all corresponding to this. John xx. 14-18. Mary Magdalene remained weeping at the tomb, after Peter and John had left, when Jesus made himself known to her. Recognising him, she turned and called him, "Master." He said, "Touch me not, for I am not yet ascended to my Father; but go to my brethren, and say unto them, I ascend unto my Father and your Father, and to my God and your God. Mary Magdalene came and told the disciples that she had seen the Lord, and that he had spoken these things unto her." Here there are several grave contradictions between Matthew and John. 1. Matthew makes the first appearance of Jesus to _the two_ Maries, while they are hastening _from the tomb_ to carry to his disciples the glad news of his resurrection, which they had learned from the angel; John, while Mary Magdalene is _by herself at the tomb and is unaware_ of his resurrection. 2. Matthew mentions that the two Maries _held him by the feet_ and worshipped him; John, that Mary Magdalene was commanded by Jesus _not to touch him_. 3. Matthew states that Jesus directed his disciples to go to Galilee, where they would find him; John, that he announced to Mary, "I ascend to my Father," &c. Not one word of a journey to Galilee. (6.) Matthew xxviii. 16-20. "Then the eleven disciples went away into Galilee into a mountain where Jesus had appointed them. And when they saw him, they worshipped him, but some doubted. And Jesus came and spake unto them, saying, All power is given unto me in heaven and in earth," &c. Matthew here narrates that on receiving the direction of the women, the eleven went away to a mountain in Galilee fixed on before Jesus' death. (Matthew xxvi. 32, he had said, "After I am risen again, I will go before you into Galilee.") How or in what form they saw him there is left untold. Most of them adored, but some doubted. The appearance, therefore, could not have been a close one, such as was vouchsafed to Thomas (John xx. 27), for then no one could have doubted. Belief in such cases is not matter of choice. How Jesus vanished after his appearance on the Galilean mount is not mentioned. Matthew was a witness of the ascension of Jesus, if Mark and Luke's accounts be true, but he passes by this most striking event in silence. Mark's second narrative, too, in no way confirms the journey to Galilee. On the contrary, it states that the parting charge of Jesus and his ascension took place after he had appeared and spoken to the eleven as they sat at meat. Where this occurred, and on what day, is somewhat ambiguous; but the inference is that it was at Jerusalem, and on the day of the resurrection. Luke, however, is quite explicit on this point. According to him on the very day (Luke xxiv. 13, 33, 36, 50, 51) of the resurrection Jesus appeared to the eleven at Jerusalem, gave them his parting charge, led them out to Bethany, and was there parted from them and carried into heaven. So far from there being any journey to Galilee, they were expressly commanded (chap. xxiv. 49) to tarry at Jerusalem. Here Luke, the recorder of the reports of eye-witnesses, states that the disciples were ordered to tarry in Jerusalem on the very day when, according to Matthew, an eye-witness, they were ordered to proceed to Galilee. And John, the other eyewitness, one of the eleven, makes no mention of a journey to Galilee immediately following the first announcement of the resurrection, or of the appearance of Jesus on the mountain there, but, on the contrary, affirms that Jesus appeared to his disciples at Jerusalem on the evening of the day of the resurrection, and also on that day week. (c.) Mark xvi. 12, 13. He appeared in another form to two of them in a country walk: they told the rest, who were still incredulous. Luke xxiv. 13-35. Jesus that same day, i.e., the day of the resurrection, joined two of them on their way to the village of Emmaus, near Jerusalem; at first they did not know him, but on breaking bread they recognised him. On this he vanished. John does not confirm these appearances, and they are inconsistent with Matthew's journey of the eleven to Galilee. (d.) Mark xvi. 14-20. Then he appeared to the eleven as they sat at meat, reproached them with their unbelief, gave them the charge to preach the gospel; and then, after he had spoken, he was received into heaven, and sat on the right hand of God. Luke xxiv. 36-53. _The same hour_ in which the two, who had recognised Jesus in breaking of bread at Emmaus, returned to Jerusalem, and while they were informing the "eleven and the rest" of what had happened, Jesus himself stood in the midst of them, and said, "Peace be unto you." They were terrified at his appearance. He showed them his hands and his feet, told them to handle him, and ate before them; directed them to tarry at Jerusalem till they were endued with power from on high. "And he led them out as far as Bethany, and he lifted up his hands and blessed them. And it came to pass while he blessed them, he was parted from them, and carried up into heaven." John xx. 19-23. The same day (i.e., the resurrection day), at even, when the doors were shut where the disciples were assembled for fear of the Jews, Jesus appeared, saying, "Peace be unto you." He showed them his hands and his side. They were glad of his appearance. Here there is a certain amount of agreement between Mark, Luke, and John, as to an appearance to the eleven at Jerusalem on the day of the resurrection. But this occurrence conflicts with Matthew. If, as he states, Jesus "went before" his disciples to Galilee, or if they set out for Galilee on the direction delivered by the women, neither the one nor the others could have been in Jerusalem. The most remarkable point here, however, is that neither Matthew nor John confirm, in any form, the "ascension" mentioned by Mark and Luke. Eye-witnesses as they were, special missionaries to testify to men that Jesus was alive, so wondrous an event they pass by in silence. (e.) John xx. 24-29. On the eighth day after the previous occurrence, he appeared among his disciples, the doors being shut as before, and was acknowledged by Thomas, who was not present on the first occasion, as his "Lord and his God." This is quite at variance with Mark and Luke's statement that Jesus ascended to heaven on the day of the resurrection, and it is unnecessary again to allude to its inconsistency with Matthew's account. (f.) John xxi. 1-25. Jesus' _third appearance_ to his disciples was at the sea of Tiberias while they were fishing. Peter, Thomas, Nathanael, James and John, and two other disciples were present. He directed Peter how to cast his net, and ensured a large haul: he then dined with them, and afterwards gave Peter a charge to feed his lambs and his sheep, and returned a dubious answer about the length of John's life. This also rests merely on John's narrative. Mark, even, the companion of Peter, who was specially conspicuous on this occasion, in no way confirms it. On the contrary, his second narrative implies that Jesus ascended to heaven on the day of the resurrection. (g.) Luke in Acts i. 1-11. Jesus showed himself alive after his passion by many infallible proofs: was seen by his disciples forty days, and spoke to them of things pertaining to the kingdom of God. He commanded them not to depart from Jerusalem, but to await there the gift of the Holy Ghost. Then, on Mount Olivet, when he had given the last charge, while they beheld, he was taken up, and a cloud received him out of their sight. As they were gazing upwards, two men in white apparel appeared, who said, "Ye men of Galilee, why stand ye gazing up into heaven? This same Jesus who is taken up from you into heaven shall so come in like manner as ye have seen him go into heaven." Matthew and John, the two eye-witnesses, are silent as to the ascension to heaven. They, whose special, divinely-conferred mission it was to testify to the resurrection of Jesus and the following glory, to maintain that he was alive for evermore, to declare the whole counsel of God, make no mention of this crowning wonder. Such comparatively trifling matters as the women holding him by the feet (Matt, xxviii. 9), or Simon's naked condition (John xxi. 7), or the fire of coals, and fish laid thereon and bread (John xxi. 9), were deemed worthy of record, but the ascension to heaven they altogether ignore. Mark and Luke, who write what they heard from others, mention the ascension in their Gospels, and their narrative most clearly implies that it took place on the day of the resurrection. Mark expressly states that he was received into heaven, "then after he had spoken" to the eleven as they sat at meat. And could any one imagine that between Luke xxiv. 49 and xxi v. 50 there was an interval of forty days, as asserted by the same writer in the Acts? Would the omission of all mention of such an interval be consistent with the "perfect understanding of all things from the very first" professed by Luke? Clearly there had been an amplification of detail during the time that elapsed between the compilation of the gospel by Luke and the compilation of the Acts. Jesus, the writer in the Acts affirms, was seen by his disciples forty days, and spoke to them of things pertaining to the kingdom of God. Why, then, are none of his sayings preserved, if the short announcements (one of which--Luke xxiv. 44-48--has already been shown to be false) at the end of the gospels be excepted? Were the discourses of the risen Jesus not more important, were they less impressive than those uttered in his lifetime? (h.) Acts ix. 1-9. As Paul was on the way to Damascus, with authority from the high priests to the synagogues there, to arrest and to bring to Jerusalem all who professed to believe on Jesus, a brilliant light shone around him, whereupon he fell to the earth, and heard a voice saying, "Saul, Saul, why persecutest thou me?" Paul replied, "Who art thou, Lord?" The voice answered, "I am Jesus, whom thou persecutest: it is hard for thee to kick against the pricks." "And he, trembling and astonished, said, Lord, what wilt thou have me to do? And the Lord said unto him, Arise, and go into the city, and it shall be told thee what thou must do." On getting up he found himself blind, and was led by the hand to Damascus. The men who were with him stood speechless. _They heard a voice_, but they saw no man. Acts xxii. 6-21. This passage contains an address said to have been delivered by Paul himself, in which the foregoing wondrous event is related, but with one important contradiction,--"They that were with me saw indeed the light, and were afraid, but they heard not the voice of him that spake to me." Acts xxvi. 15-18. Paul here asserted that the voice from heaven uttered the following:--"I am Jesus, whom thou persecutest. But rise and stand upon thy feet, for I have appeared to thee for this purpose, to make thee a minister and a witness," &c. This is very different from Acts ix., where he is directed to go into the city, and that there it would be told him what he should do. Paul (Acts xxvi. 19-20) added, "Whereupon, O king Agrippa, I was not disobedient unto the heavenly vision; but showed first unto them at Damascus, and at Jerusalem, and throughout all the coasts of Judea, and then to the Gentiles," &c. These are Luke's statements, in the Acts, with reference to the appearance of Jesus to Paul. The subsequent movements of the apostle, on the same authority, were,-- (Luke, 1.) After being cured of his blindness by the laying on of the hands of Ananias, he preached in Damascus that Jesus was Christ. (Luke, 2.) The Jews being desirous of killing him, he fled to Jerusalem. The disciples at first were chary of their quondam persecutor, but, assured by Barnabas, who took-him and brought him to the apostles, they received him into their fellowship. (Luke, 3.) He disputed against the Grecians (Hellenised Jews?), who went about to-slay him. On this he was taken by the brethren to Cæsarea, and thence sent on to Tarsus. (Luke, 4.) Persecution forced many Christian Jews to leave Judea and to settle at Antioch. Barnabas was sent by the Church at Jerusalem to visit them. He rejoiced at their liveliness in the faith, and then went to Tarsus to find Paul, whom he brought back to Antioch. They were there together a whole year. The disciples were called Christians first in Antioch. (Luke, 5.) Paul and Barnabas conveyed a contribution from the brethren at Antioch to those at Jerusalem. Returning from Jerusalem they took with them John, whose surname was Mark. (Luke, 6.) During their ministry at Antioch the Holy Ghost said, "Separate me Barnabas and Saul for the work whereunto I have called them." They then started on their mission to the Gentiles. Now, Luke was Paul's companion, his attendant on his travels, his faithful friend in trouble (2 Tim. iv. 11), surely, then, his statements with reference to Paul will be found to tally exactly with this apostle's allusions to his own life and ministry; it cannot be but that the Acts and the Epistles of Paul are in perfect harmony. Not so, however; they are quite irreconcilable. (Paul, 1.) In 2 Cor. xi. and xii. Paul brings forward the various claims he possessed to be regarded as "no whit behind the very chiefest apostles." He alludes to his arduous labours, journeys, and sufferings for the gospel's sake. And then he comes "to visions and revelations of the Lord." Does he mention the wondrous incident on the way to Damascus? No! not one word, either here or elsewhere. What he does mention is a man in Christ (evidently himself), who, about fourteen years previously, was caught up into the third heaven--whether in the body or out of the body, God only knew--caught up into paradise, and there heard unspeakable words, unutterable by man. Now, here, in discoursing of his very claim to apostleship, he is silent on what in the Acts is so strongly put forth as his miraculous calling to that office. The incident in which the risen Jesus announced, "I have appeared to thee for this purpose to make thee a minister and witness," &c., is quite ignored by Paul himself in particularising his claims to be that minister and witness. The necessary conclusion is, that when the Second Epistle to the Corinthians was written, the marvel related in Acts ix., xxii., and xxvi. had not been thought of. By comparison with Paul's epistles this undoubted instance of invention or appropriation can be brought home to the writer of the Acts. It shows what the compilers of the New Testament were capable of, when a supernatural event was required to give sanction and support to any doctrine, or practice, or claim which they advocated. The object, in the present instance, was to place Paul, as an apostle, on an equal footing in every respect with the apostles who were companions of Jesus himself, and who had seen him alive after his resurrection. If the New Testament is read in the light which this incident affords, its various narratives become abundantly clear. It is seen that its authoritative claims and its doctrines, with reference to the destiny of man, so far from being based on the supernatural events recorded, are merely what these events were devised to establish and enforce. (Paul, 2.) In Galatians he states that, "when it pleased God, who separated me from my mother's womb, and called me by his grace, to reveal his son in me, that I might preach him among the Gentiles"--(This style of writing seems quite inconsistent with such an appearance of Jesus himself as is mentioned in the Acts: Paul here uses language descriptive of ordinary conversion, radically different from the effect of a vision of the risen Son of God with power-conferring commands),--"immediately I conferred not with flesh and blood, neither went I up to Jerusalem to them who were apostles before me (Luke, par. 2 above, expressly affirms that he did go to Jerusalem), but I went into Arabia, and returned again to Damascus" (quite irreconcilable with Luke, pars. 1, 2, 3, and 4, above). "Then, after three years, I went up to Jerusalem to see Peter, and abode with him fifteen days. But other of the apostles saw I none, save James, the Lord's brother. Now, the things which I write unto you, behold, before God I lie not." (If he does not lie, what can be said of Barnabas [Luke, par. 2 above] taking and bringing him to the apostles, or of the journey [Luke, par. 5 above] of Paul and Barnabas to convey relief to the famine-threatened brethren who dwelt in Judea.) "Afterwards I went into the regions of Syria and Cilicia, and was unknown by face unto the churches of Judea which were in Christ; but they had heard only that he who persecuted us in times past now preacheth the faith which once he destroyed. And they glorified God in me." Compare this with Acts ix. 28--Luke, par. 2 above--"And he was with them coming in and going out at Jerusalem;" with the famine-relief embassy of himself and Barnabas; and, more startling still, with the declaration in the Acts before king Agrippa,--"O king Agrippa, I was not disobedient unto the heavenly vision, but showed first to them at Damascus, and at Jerusalem, and throughout all the coasts of Judea, and then to the Gentiles" &c. It is quite beyond the scope of this inquiry to enter into conjectures as to the cause of such serious discrepancies between the two fellow-travellers, the apostle and his faithful follower. And, indeed, all such conjectures would be "vain and unprofitable," for there are no means now of determining the question. What stands forth clear, however, is, that no conscience-satisfying belief, or even ordinary historical probability, can rest where such conflict of testimony appears. (i.) In 1 Cor. xv. 4-8, Paul thus gives in detail the appearances of Jesus after his resurrection as these had been reported to him:-- (1.) That he was seen of Cephas. Where? Luke mentions an appearance to Peter (chap. xxiv. 34), but gives no particulars. Mark and John agree that the first appearance was to Mary Magdalene. No separate appearance to Peter is mentioned by them or by Matthew. (2. ) Then of the twelve. Where? In, the Galilean mount, according to Matthew, or at Jerusalem, according to Luke and John? (3.) After that he was seen of above five hundred brethren at once; of whom the greater part remain unto this present, but some are fallen asleep. It is most remarkable that Matthew and John make no mention of this. Nor Mark nor Luke either. (4.) After that he was seen of James. No one but Paul says so. Doubtless, however, as Peter claimed a special visit of the risen Jesus for himself, so did James, and Paul followed their example; for, (5.) After mentioning that Jesus was next seen of all the apostles,--he does not mention where or when--he states, (6.) "Last of all he was seen of me also, as of one born out of due time." Also 1 Cor. ix. 1, "Have I not seen Jesus Christ our Lord?" How or where he saw him he leaves untold. Comparing this, however, with 2 Cor. xii, it is probable that he refers to the time when he was caught up into paradise and heard unspeakable words, unutterable by man. It has already been shown that the appearance on the way to Damascus had not been thought of when the second epistle was written, and during this appearance Paul _did not see_ Jesus. He heard a voice, and saw a brilliant light. But there is nothing in Paul's writings to indicate that he ever laid claim to so dread an event in connection with himself. 9. Can the mind, then, eagerly straining to find in these accounts of the resurrection of Jesus grounds for a sincere belief that "one has risen from the dead;" raising no question as to the authenticity of the gospels, but taking them as they are, and putting the fairest construction on the words and narrative; most desirous not to abandon a hope cherished from the lessons of youth, a hope twined with the fondest reflections of manhood,--can the mind once aroused to doubt and inquiry, so straining, descry aught on which to rest? Far otherwise; for how rapidly these tales of the resurrection, and the other supernatural occurrences claimed for Jesus, crumble away, like a long-buried corpse exposed to light, before the touch of the simplest tests of evidence! 10. It remains to consider the resurrection of Jesus in connection with Old Testament ideas, and with those of the surrounding Gentile nations. 11. In Genesis Adam was doomed to "return unto the ground, for out of it wast thou taken: for dust thou art, and unto dust shalt thou return." He died when he had lived so many years, is the brief record of his death, and of that of all the other primeval patriarchs, with the single exception of Enoch, who "walked with God, and he was not, for God took him." The writer of the Hebrews states that he was translated that he should not see death. He is thus represented as escaping the curse of Adam, and as made immortal, contrary to the common doom. The statement in Genesis is so loose, however, that the exact meaning of the writer will ever remain uncertain. The deaths of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob are referred to thus: "that they gave up the ghost, full of years, and were gathered unto their people." They returned to the dust from whence they came, as their fathers before them. And when Joseph died, "being 110 years old," he is not "gathered unto his people," but "embalmed and put in a coffin in Egypt." 12. In Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers, and Deuteronomy, the books that immediately concern Moses, there is no mention of any future state of existence. The precepts, the ritual, the rewards, and the punishments all have reference to the present life. Beyond the grave is nothingness: no hope, no fear. What a startling fact this is, and how intimately it concerns the subject now under consideration, appears when contrasted with the prevailing contemporary Egyptian belief. Moses led the Israelites out of Egypt. They had been there upwards of two centuries. He himself was learned in all the wisdom of the Egyptians. He had been brought up as the son of Pharaoh's daughter. Now, the most prominent belief of the Egyptian religion, as shown by the monuments and ritual, was the immortality of the soul and a state of existence beyond the grave, and it must have been vividly before the Israelites during their sojourn in Egypt. The god Osiris became incarnate on earth, worked all manner of good for mankind; was slain through the malignity of the evil one, the serpent Typhon, but rose again from the dead, and was made the 'judge of souls; the disembodied spirits were weighed in his balances; the just, after expiating their venial sins by many severe trials, in which they were accompanied and sustained by Osiris, who had himself passed through the same ordeal--"been tempted in all points like as they were"--shared the bliss of the god; the reprobate were condemned to lengthened torments, came back to earth as evil spirits, dwelt in the bodies of unclean animals, and were ultimately to be annihilated. In addition, also, to the symbolic idolatrous religion, by which the deity was represented to the people in numerous phases, all probably conceptions of natural phenomena, however incongruous most of the manifestations now appear, there was the hidden religion of the priests and of the initiated; and the main conception of this hidden religion was of the one living, independent, uncreated god--_Nuk pu Nuk_, "I am that I am." A hereditary priesthood, animal sacrifices, circumcision, and abstinence from swine's flesh, were likewise Egyptian institutions. So was the seventh-day rest. These and minor practices were continued among the Israelites, and the Egyptian _Nuk pa Nuk_ became the Jewish Jehovah; but the symbolical idolatrous worship, likening the Creator to the creature, and the belief in the immortality of the soul, were rejected by Moses. They have no place in his system. The former he denounced, the latter he ignored. His conception of the unity and omnipotence of God was intense, and he indelibly stamped this belief on the mind of his nation, shunning the example of the priests of Egypt, who encouraged the people in idolatrous polytheistic rites, while the purer faith remained concealed among themselves. Contrary to the practice of all priestcraft, ancient and modern, he did not keep his followers in ignorance, that he himself might, by a superior understanding, retain an exalted position in their sight, but he sought to bring them up to the level of his own knowledge and belief. How far many of the Egyptian practices retained by the Israelites, and some of the more unworthy conceptions of the deity--such, for instance, as the ever-living omnipotent God _working_ six days in creating the world, and _resting_ the seventh; or his ordering the enemies of Israel to be massacred, man, woman, and child; or his exacting animal sacrifices, as if he, the source of life, could be appeased by the destruction of the very life he had brought into being--were forced by the nation upon Moses, rather than by Moses upon the nation, cannot now be ascertained. Jer. vii. 22, 23, seem to indicate that the animal sacrifices, at least, were not of Mosaic origin. But his stern prohibition of idolatry, and his ignoring a future life, constituted the principal differences between the Mosaic and the Egyptian systems. They were, indeed, radical differences. Had not Moses seen in Egypt how the pretended immortality of the soul, and the several connected doctrines and practices, in the hands of a polished priesthood, had been used so as to keep that very soul in this world in a state of vague fear and abject superstition: how the terrors or expectation of the life to come had led to misery and misdirection of the life on earth: how the dead had been cared for to the neglect of the living? And was there any good ground for this expectation of a future life? On the contrary, was not man, in his view, doomed to return to the dust whence he came? Was not the pretence of the soul being immortal an assumption of an attribute of the eternal Jehovah? And so he taught "that the Lord he is God, in heaven above, and in the earth beneath; there is none else. Thou shalt therefore keep his statutes and his commandments, which I command thee this day, that it may go well with thee, and with thy children after thee, and that thou mayest prolong thy days upon the earth which the Lord thy God giveth thee, for ever" (Deut. iv. 39, 40). The rules of conduct were those which, in the judgment of Moses, led to long life and earthly prosperity; their neglect would inevitably bring disaster and woe; there was no other reward, no other dread. And in Psalm xc, described as "a prayer of Moses, the man of God," when he mentions that the days of our years are threescore and ten, or if, perchance, by reason of strength, fourscore, yet "that strength labour and sorrow," so far is he from arriving at Paul's conclusion--"What advantageth it me if the dead rise not? Let us eat and drink, for to-morrow we die"--that he makes the brevity of man's life the ground of the petition, "So-teach us to number our days, that we may apply our hearts unto wisdom." Let us be up and doing, for our own and our brethren's sakes; there is no time to be lost; let us strive and ponder how to pass our brief life on earth wisely and well. The dead, moreover, were buried out of sight, and any bodily disfigurement (Lev. xix. 28; Deut. xiv. 1) or offerings (Deut. xxvi. 14) for them were prohibited. 13. Now, if the Jewish Jehovah thus represented by Moses be one and the same being with "the God of Peace, that brought again from the dead our Lord Jesus," whose kingdom was not of this world, whose reward was eternal life, whose followers were of all men the most miserable if in this life only they had hope in Christ, then the Almighty in one dispensation left his chosen people to ignore the possession of an immortal soul and the hope of eternal life--doctrines fully known and recognised by the Egyptians and other nations surrounding them--but in the other revealed, little modified, as his own, these prevailing beliefs of the heathen nations, thus making Christianity practically little else than the Mosaic religion without the sacrifices, joined to the Egyptian belief in the soul's immortality and a state of future rewards and punishments, which Moses rejected; in one dispensation he placed his service in the following of those rules of life which lead to making the best of the good earth on which men live, without any other reward; in the other, "he that hateth his life in this world shall keep it unto life eternal," and those are denounced "who mind earthly things, for our conversation is in heaven, from whence also we look for our Saviour, the Lord Jesus Christ." A wondrous contradictory Almighty! 14. In the historical books of the Old Testament, from Joshua to Esther, there is nothing to indicate that a belief in a future life was held by any of the representatives of Jehovah, whether judge, king, prophet, or priest, (a.) The aged Joshua (Josh. xxiii. 14) and the dying David (1 Kings ii. 2) affirm that they are about "to go the way of all the earth." They express neither hope of heaven nor fear of hell. The writer in Judges (ii 10) states, "all that generation was gathered unto their fathers." The kings of Israel and Judah all "slept with their fathers." (b.) The Godforsaken Saul (1 Sam. xxviii. 7-25) went to inquire of the witch of Endor, and asked her to bring up Samuel, who appeared (visible, as the narrative implies, only to the witch) as an old man covered with a mantle--that is to say, his shade had the appearance of himself in old age, _dress and all_--and said, "Why hast thou disquieted me to bring me up." Saul told his extremity. Samuel's wraith affirmed that the kingdom was transferred to David, that Saul's army would be defeated by the Philistines, and that "to-morrow shalt thou and thy sons be with me." The God-favoured Samuel and the God-forsaken Saul _would be together_. Here is certainly a belief in a future life, and in the power of a witch to bring up to earth a soul _at rest_--not in bliss or in misery, if Samuel's "why hast thou thus disquieted me" may be so construed; but that it was not an orthodox Jewish belief is made clear by 1 Chron. x. 13: "So Saul died for his transgression which he committed against the Lord, even against the word of the Lord, which he kept not, and also for asking counsel of one that had a familiar spirit, to inquire of it, and inquired not of the Lord: therefore he slew him, and turned the kingdom to David, the son of Jesse." (c.) The wise woman of Tekoah, whom Joab sent disguised to king David, expressed the recognised belief when she said, "for we must needs die, and are as water spilled on the ground, which cannot be gathered up again." (d.) Elijah (1 Kings xvii. 21, 22) raised from the dead the son of the widow of Zarephath, and Elisha (2 Kings iv. 32-35) the son of the Shunammite. "Elisha went up and lay upon the child, and put his mouth upon his mouth, and his eyes upon his eyes, and his hands upon his hands, and he stretched himself upon the child, and the flesh of the child waxed warm." Elijah, too, stretched himself on the child three times, and he prayed, "O Lord my God, let this child's soul (or life, same word as Genesis i. 30) come into him again; and the Lord heard the voice of Elijah, and the soul (or life) of the child came into him again, and he revived." It would be hard from these statements to determine whether Elijah and Elisha considered the child's soul or life as merely the action of an organism, or as so much vital force existing only _as force_ outside the body, or as a separate conscious soul sent back to earth at their request. Most probably neither they nor the narrator of their wonder-working had any definite opinion on the subject. Elisha's bones, also, had such virtue that when a dead man let down into his sepulchre (2 Kings xiii. 21) had touched them, he revived and stood up on his feet. It is strange that the bones could not do so much for themselves. Neither this man, however, nor the resuscitated children, appear to have been made immortal on earth, any more than the son of the widow of Nain, or the raised Lazarus of the New Testament. So, wretched ones, they had to suffer death twice; and when they were brought back to life, what did they tell their wondering friends of the condition of the disembodied soul? The world has been none the wiser of their revisit, (e.) The marvellous departure of Elijah (2 Kings ii. 11) was probably told to prevent any sort of worship at his tomb, concealed, in all likelihood, as that of Moses, doubtless at his own desire, was. 15. The authorised version gives rise to considerable misapprehension by translating the Hebrew word "sheol" as "hell" in some places, and "the grave" in others, (a.) The passage (Genesis xxxvii. 35) before referred to, where Jacob says, "I will go down into the grave (sheol) unto my son mourning," if translated, "I will go down into hell," &c, would have conveyed to the mind of a modern Christian that Joseph was in the place of torment. It was quite necessary here, therefore, to render the word "the grave." Genesis xlii. 38 is, similarly treated, (b) Proverbs xxiii. 13, 14, is an example of the other rendering of the same word: "Withhold not correction from the child: for if thou beatest him with the rod, he shall not die. Thou shalt beat him with the rod, and shalt deliver his soul from hell" (from sheol). Here nothing more is meant than that by coercing a youth to follow the lessons of experience, he would be saved from an early grave; but by translating sheol "hell," the notion that "eternal woe" is to be averted by the unsparing use of the rod is erroneously implied, (c.) The Hebrew word _kibr_ is usually employed to designate a specific burying-place (a grave, as distinguished from _the_ grave), as in Genesis xxiii. 42; xxxv. 20, but is sometimes also used in the same sense as sheol, as Psalm vi. 5, "In the grave (sheol) who shall give thee thanks:" Psalm lxxxviii. 10, "Shall thy loving-kindness be declared in the grave" (kibr)? Sheol, however, almost invariably means more than a mere burial place: sometimes it is used in the sense of the "power of death" (Isaiah xiv. 9), sometimes of the unfathomable abyss of darkness, erroneously believed in those days to be under the earth (Psalm cxxxix. 8; Amos ix. 2); but usually it implies _the state that follows death_; and that this state was held to be one of ended existence, non-existence, or nothingness, is as clear a conclusion as words can convey. The reprieved Hezekiah (Isaiah xxxviii. 18) says, "For the grave (sheol) cannot praise thee, death cannot celebrate thee: they that go down to the pit cannot hope for thy truth. The living, the living, he shall praise thee, as I do this day." So Psalm cxv. 17, "The dead praise not the Lord, neither any that go down into silence;" and Eccles. ix. 5, "For the living know that they shall die, but the dead know not anything;" also ix. 10, "for there is no work, nor device, nor knowledge, nor wisdom in the grave (sheol), whither thou goest." Job, too (vii. 9), "As the cloud is consumed and vanisheth away, so he that goeth down to the grave (sheol) shall come up no more." Psalm xlix. 12, "Nevertheless, man being in honour abideth not: he is like the beasts that perish." Thus also Eccles. iii. 19, "For that which befalleth the sons of men befalleth beasts; even one thing befalleth them: as the one dieth, so dieth the other: yea, they have all one breath" (i.e, same word as translated "spirit" in verse 21, and chap. xii. 7); "so that a man hath no pre-eminence above a beast: for all is vanity. (20) All go unto one place; all are of the dust, and all turn to dust again. (21) Who knoweth the spirit (or breath) of man that goeth upward, and the spirit (or breath) of the beast that goeth downward to the earth?" Is this last verse an answer to any objection taken to what is stated in verse 19, that man and beast have all one spirit (breath)? Again, Eccles. xii 7, "Then shall the dust return to the earth as it was, and the spirit shall return to God who gave it." This passage is quite conclusive against a separate conscious existence of the soul in any one place set apart for its reception, or of one soul going to one place and another to another. Man is dissolved into dust and spirit: the dust mingles again with the earth; the spirit in like manner, as spirit, returns to God: in other words, the life as life returns to its source. Such seems the idea. Again, the mercy of Jehovah is shown in consideration of the brief span of man's life, as Psalm lxxviii. 39, "For he remembered that they were but flesh; a wind that passeth away and cometh not again:" ciii. 14, "He knoweth our frame, he remembereth that we are dust;" and Psalm lxxxvii. 5 mentions the "slain that lie in the grave (kibr), whom thou (Jehovah) rememberest no more." How utterly opposed are all these clear statements to the paradise of unspeakable bliss, and the hell of unutterable woe, and the immortal soul and the bodily resurrection of the New Testament. 16. Yet there are a few verses of the Old Testament, the principal Job xix. 25-27; Isaiah xxvi. 19; Ezek. xxxvii. 12, 13; Daniel xii. 2, that, as translated in the authorised version, seem to express the hope of a bodily resurrection. All these passages are of a highly poetical character (that of Daniel is in connection with the great Jewish prince Michael), and if read in the light of the explicit declarations just quoted, it will be felt that they must be open to other constructions, and probably to other renderings than those in the present translation. But it is no part of the present purpose to reconcile discrepancies, apparent or real; and in any case, it is clear that even these last-named passages do not countenance such conceptions as the heaven and hell of the New Testament. The Christian clergy, fully alive to the importance, for upholding the divine origin which they claim for their creed, of making New Testament ideas a development and fulfilment of the Old, and of showing that the deities, Mosaic and Christian, are the same, and not contradictory, have displayed much ingenuity in reconciling incongruities and in discovering resemblances in ways and by reasonings that would not have occurred to ordinary truth-seeking men; but no unbiassed inquirer can fail to perceive the utter divergence between the Old and New Testament doctrine and practice, as regards a future life, and how impossible it is that both sets of ideas can have emanated from the same mind or spirit, mortal or immortal. There are thus only three possible conclusions: (1.) The Mosaic deity is the true God, not the Christian; (2.) the Christian deity is the true God, not the Mosaic; but this contradicts the Christian deity himself, who says the Mosaic deity was himself; or, (3.) neither is God, in which case there has been no revelation, and all that is left for men is either to assume the existence and attributes of a God who has never revealed himself, or to disbelieve in such existence; or to acknowledge that the question of the existence of a God is one beyond the reach of the human faculties to determine. 17. If then the resurrection of Jesus and the New Testament declarations as to a future life, are thus wholly opposed to Old Testament ideas, do they present any resemblance to the belief of heathendom? (a.) The faith and practice of the Egyptians, in connection with their god Osiris, have already been referred to in preceding paragraph 12. It has been well said that the ancient Egyptians, in their vivid anticipations of the life to come, lived rather in the next world than on the banks of the Nile. The bodily resurrection also had a place in their system. The belief in the deathlessness of souls has been a marked characteristic of all the Turanian races, whether represented, as many hold, by the Egyptians, Etruscans, and Lydians of aid, or by the Chinese, Mongols, and Finns of the present day. The Etruscan sepulchral paintings represent the disembodied souls on their way to the land of spirits. Some are calm and resigned, with rods in their hands: some full of horror and dismay: attendant spirits, good and evil, contend for their possession; the good spirits are coloured red, the evil spirits black; the heads of the latter are wreathed with serpents, and they bear in their hands a hammer or mallet, which is sometimes raised as in the act of striking the woe-begone soul on the knee vainly imploring mercy, (b.) In the Zend-a-Vesta,--the ancient Persian Scriptures,--a narrow passage, called "the bridge of the gatherer," is said to be extended over the middle of hell, where the souls of the dead are assembled on the day after the third night from their decease. The wicked fall into the gulf beneath, the gloomy kingdom of Ahriman, and are doomed to feed upon poisoned food. The good, sustained by benign angels and spirits and the prayers of surviving friends, cross over in safety, and are greeted on the other side by the archangel, as having passed from mortality to immortality. Thence they rise to paradise, where Ormuzd and his six holy ones sit on golden thrones, and at once join in the conflict against Ahriman and the powers of darkness. At the last day they will share the glory of the triumph of Ormuzd, when Ahriman and his angels, finally routed and overcome, will be driven into their native darkness, and virtue, harmony, and bliss will evermore prevail in the universe. The resurrection of the body is also contained in the Zend-a-Vesta, and it likewise forms part of the creed of the Magi. (c.) Of the sects into which the Jews were divided after the return from the captivity in Babylon, the writer of the Acts states: "For the Sadducees say that there is no resurrection, neither angel, nor spirit; but the Pharisees confess both:" and Josephus writes concerning the latter, "They believe that souls have an immortal vigour in them, and that under the earth there will be rewards or punishments, according as they have lived virtuously or viciously in this life; and the latter are to be detained in an everlasting prison, but that the former shall have power to revive, and live again." Elsewhere he shows that these beliefs were traditional merely: "What I would now explain is this, that the Pharisees have delivered to the people a great many observances by succession from their fathers, which are not written in the law of Moses; and for that reason it is that the Sadducees reject them, and say that we are to esteem those observances to be obligatory, which are in the written word, but are not to observe what are derived from the traditions of our fore-fathers." 18. The belief of classical antiquity as to the condition of souls after death, is beautifully summed up by Horace in the Ode (i. 10) to Mercury, date about b.c. 24; "Grateful alike to the gods supernal and infernal, it is thine to place pious souls in blissful abodes, and to coerce the airy crowd with thy golden wand." Homer, indeed, whose poems are certainly prior to the eighth century b.c., has no Elysian fields in the land of spirits; all is indeterminate, gloomy, uncomfortable. The shade of Achilles says: "Talk not of ruling in this dolorous gloom, Nor think vain words (he cried) can ease my doom; Rather I'd choose laboriously to bear A weight of woes and breathe the vital air, A slave to some poor hind that toils for bread, Than reign the sceptred monarch of the dead." But, whether from contact with the East and Egypt or otherwise, more definite conceptions of the abode of disembodied spirits were afterwards formed, which have found best expression in Virgil's �neid, written about B.C. 20. There "The gates of hell are open night and day, Smooth the descent, and easy is the way;" just as in the sermon on the mount,--"Wide is the gate, and broad is the way that leadeth to destruction, and many there be which go in thereat." At a certain point hell is thus divided: "The right to Pluto's golden palace guides; The left to that unhappy region tends Which to the depths of Tartarus descends." So in the New Testament, the sheep (the saved) are on the right, the goats (the lost) on the left hand of the Son of man sitting on the throne of his glory. The region to the left is thus described: "These are the realms of unrelenting fate, And awful Rhadamanthus rules the state; He hears and judges each committed crime, Inquires into the manner, place, and time: The conscious wretch must all his acts reveal (Loth to confess, unable to conceal) From the first moment of his vital breath To his last hour of unrepenting death. Straight o'er the guilty wretch the Fury shakes The sounding whip, and brandishes her snakes, And the pale sinner, with her sisters, takes. All these within the dungeon's depth remain, Despairing pardon, and expecting pain." Far other the region to the right: "These holy rites performed, they took their way Where long-extended fields of pleasure lay; The verdant fields with those of heaven may vie, With ether vested and a purple sky, The blissful seats of happy souls below, Stars of their own, and their own suns they know." 19. Plutarch (about a.d. 90), referring to the tradition of the mysterious disappearance of Romulus and the suspicions of regicide aroused against the patricians, wrote,--"While things were in this disorder, a senator, we are told, of great distinction, and famed for sanctity of manners, Julius Proculus by name, who came from Alba with Romulus, and had been his faithful friend, went into the Forum, and declared, upon the most solemn oaths, before all the people, that as he was travelling on the road, Romulus met him in a form more noble and august than ever, and clad in bright and dazzling armour. Astonished at the sight, he said to him, 'For what misbehaviour of ours, O king, or by what accident, have you so untimely left us to labour under the heaviest calumnies, and the whole city to sink under inexpressible sorrow?' To which he answered, 'It pleased the gods, my good Proculus, that we should dwell with men for a time; and after having founded a city which will be the most powerful and glorious in the world, _return to heaven, from whence we came_. Farewell, then, and go, tell the Romans that by the exercise of temperance and fortitude they shall attain the highest pitch of human greatness; and I, the god Quirinus, will ever be propitious to you.' This, by the character and oath of the relater, gained credit with the Romans, who were caught with the enthusiasm, as if they had been actually inspired; and far from contradicting what they had heard, bade adieu to all their suspicions of the nobility, united in the deifying of Quirinus, and addressed their devotions to him. This is very like the Grecian fables concerning Aristeas, the Proconnesian, and Cleoraedes, the Astypalesian. For Aristeas, as they tell us, expired in a fuller's shop; and when his friends came to take away the body, it could not be found. Soon after, some persons coming in from a journey, said they met Aristeas travelling towards Croton. As for Cleomedes, their account of him is that he was a man of gigantic size and strength; but behaving in a foolish and frantic manner, he was guilty of many acts of violence. At last he went into a school, where he struck the pillar that supported the roof with his fist, and broke it asunder, so that the roof fell in and destroyed the children. Pursued for this, he took refuge in a great chest, and having shut the lid upon him, he held it down so fast that many men together could not force it open; when they had cut the chest in pieces, they could not find him either dead or alive. Struck with this strange affair, they sent to consult the oracle at Delphi, and had from the priestess this answer:-- "'The race of heroes ends in Cleomedes.' It is likewise said, that the body of Alcmena was lost as they were carrying it to the grave, and a stone was seen lying on the bier in its stead. Many such improbable tales are told by writers who wanted to deify beings naturally mortal." 20. Dio Cassius relates that Livia, about a.d. 14, gave a large reward to Numericus Atticus, a senator, who affirmed that he had seen her husband, the Emperor Augustus, ascending to heaven in the same manner as Romulus had been seen by Proeulus. 21. It is thus clearly manifest that the beliefs of the Gentile nations of antiquity with reference to a future life, are similar to the New Testament ideas; in fact, the same beliefs under different guises. So, also, the resurrection of Jesus from the dead, his subsequent appearances, and his ascension to heaven, are not without parallels in preceding and contemporary fame. The alleged appearances of Jesus to Mary Magdalene, Peter, James, Paul, and the others, rest on no evidence intrinsically stronger than the appearance of Romulus to Julius Proeulus, or of Augustus to Numericus Atticus. The fact of Livia paying money to one who reported that he had seen Augustus ascend to heaven shows how deeply this idea was rooted in Roman belief. All, therefore, who were swayed by the current Roman traditions would have seen nothing incredible in Jesus and his claims. These exactly corresponded to what they had been taught from childhood. They had merely to transfer to Jesus marvels similar to those which had formed their early faith. The rise of Christianity to be the dominant-religion of the Roman empire is often referred to as a proof of its divine origin and guidance; but uniting, as it did, the discipline, organisation, earnestness, moral authoritative-ness, and exclusive claim to the favour of God (transferring to believers of every race, but to believers alone, that divine favour which was previously the peculiar possession of the seed of Abraham),--all derived from the synagogue,--uniting these with the ancient fundamental beliefs, under another name, of the various Gentile nations, it is not difficult to discern the causes of its triumph, in an age unaccustomed to weigh evidence, and at a time when _ancient forms_ were losing their hold on the faith and allegiance of the masses. Even in modern religious revivals, the most common manifestations are of convictions which had lost their hold on the mind, or which had become practically powerless to stir under regular ministrations, springing up into renewed vigour and intensity in some novel guise, or through a description of preaching or service out of the common. 22. And this belief in a life beyond the grave, and pretended knowledge of its conditions--under one form or other one of the most ancient and widespread conceptions of the human race--what has it led to? Inhumanity in time past, inhumanity now; bloodshed and misery, dark delusion, degrading superstition, priestly pretence, persecution and intolerance, creed exclusiveness and bigoted zeal, misdirected fervour and visionary hopes--all the offspring of this conviction--fill the records of mankind. 23. Among barbarous races the vivid realisation of the spiritual world has led to such sad misguidance of the life on earth as the following;--(a.) The custom, prevalent both in ancient and modern times, of sacrificing wives, friends, and slaves at funerals to supply the wants of the deceased in the land of spirits, or to accompany him thither, (b.) Men killing their relations "out of love," as soon as they showed signs of decrepitude, under the belief that in the next world the spirits will be vigorous or otherwise, corresponding to the state of the body at time of death, (c.) Incitement to bloodshed and war by the belief that the enemies a man killed in this world, or those of whose skulls or scalps he obtained possession, would serve him as slaves in the next; or by the more manly conviction that a warring life on earth and a glorious death in battle were the best preparations for the future state, (d.) The practice, still carried on to a frightful extent among some of the African races, of killing men to serve as messengers to their departed kindred in the other world, (e.) The various gloomy and degrading delusions through the arts of spirit-mediums, sorcerers, witches, or other pretenders to intercourse with or control over the spirit-world. 24. Among nations more advanced, the union of assurance of a blissful or woeful immortality, with adherence or non-adherence to any particular banner, sect, or creed, has led--(a.) To bloody religious wars, such as those waged for the spread of Islam, the Mohammedan believing that if he fell in battle he would immediately possess a paradise of every sensual delight; or such as the Crusades, where the red cross was held to be the symbol of sure salvation. (6.) To those inhuman persecutions where men, in the name of religion and in the interest of their own souls, condemned their fellow-men to the dungeon, the stake, the gibbet, and the sword, butchers and butchered both believing that they were doing "God service." Where the sufferers in such cases were sacrificed solely to the intolerance of their adversaries, and themselves wished for no more than freedom of thought--sad their lot! But impartial inquiry reveals that, in most instances, the persecuted would have dealt the same measure to their persecutors, if the conditions of power had been reversed, all alike holding that those whose belief was, in their eyes heretical had no right to share either the chequered happiness of this life or the bliss of the world to come. Heirs of salvation on one side, heirs of damnation on the other. 25. The belief that the immortal soul, while on earth, is enchained or imprisoned in a corrupt body, and that the more the body is attenuated and exhausted the purer, the soul will be, and the more fitted for the contemplation of divine things, has led men and women to separate themselves from their kind, to pass unnatural lives in penitential exercises and mortifications, either in solitude or among communities apart from the world. Abstinence from marriage has been a condition common to almost all these devotees, so that for the sake of the soul, fondly believed to be immortal, they forbear the enjoyment of the only means for the continuance of human life--viz., that of living over again in children and descendants. Myriads of lives have been utterly wasted and perverted by this form of the delusion, their folly receiving, for the most part, the countenance, support, and reverence of blinded contemporaries. 26. The ideas handed down from past ages, and still widely prevalent, that there are certain orders of men who have the keys of heaven and hell, who possess such favour or influence with the invisible powers as to be able to ensure a happy or a wretched immortality, or even to alter the condition of the soul after death; or, in other quarters, that certain orders of men are the divinely appointed teachers of that doctrine or belief, on the correct acceptance or appreciation of which the state of the future life depends; or, among others, that apart from any particular clerical order there is a saving doctrine or belief, and that on its correct reception or understanding, or otherwise, eternal bliss or woe will result;--to what do such ideas tend? They are not new or peculiar to Christianity. The worshippers under the ancient Persian religion are thus exhorted:--"To obtain the acceptation of this guide to salvation (the priest), you must faithfully pay him tithes of all you possess, of your goods, of your lands, and of your money. If the priest be satisfied your soul will escape hell tortures; you will secure praise in this world and happiness in the next. For the priests are the teachers of religion; they know all things and deliver all men." This is explicit and straightforward, and contrasts favourably with the more guarded phrase in which modern clergy advocate similar claims, or claims founded on the same idea, _that their ministration, in one way or other, is connected with the future lot of their hearers_. The "remedy of the soul" under one form of Christianity, the "advancement of the cause of Christ," who will repay deeds done in his service with the riches of "grace and glory", under another, are and have been the two ruling motives by which the offerings of the faithful flow into the coffers of the clergy, for the establishment, whether by states or individuals, of orders of men claiming titles of reverence from, moral control over, and direction and limitation of the knowledge and professed belief of their fellows, all under the prevailing idea "of a life to come," to happiness in which their ministrations and counsel are believed to be safe guides. Thus, unsparing generosity, steadfast devotion, self-sacrificing enthusiasm, intellectual power, love of kind, and others of the highest and best human traits, instead of being turned towards remedying the evils and inequalities of the life on earth, and of improving it to the utmost, have been utterly perverted and wasted on orders of men and ecclesiastical establishments, and observances and doctrines, all more or less connected with a future state, the fond hope of misguided mortals. 27. Such and so great, then, in brief, are among the more prominent evils that have arisen out of the ancient and widespread belief in a "life to come," of which the resurrection of Jesus, and the connected doctrines and practices, constitute one important development; to which the religion of Moses was antagonistic, not, as Christians claim, antecedent, but which, under one form or other, has exercised a powerful sway under almost all, if not all, the other ancient religions. CHAPTER VI. CONCLUSION 1. The results, then, of this inquiry are:-- (a.) It has been shown that none of the supernatural occurrences mentioned in the New Testament, as testimonies to the supernatural claims of Jesus, rest on the accordant testimony of two or three witnesses; that there is also the most serious variance between the accounts of the different writers,--not that variance resulting in substantial agreement which often characterises the statements of two independent eye-witnesses relating different impressions of the same event, but that variance which characterises illusion and man-deifying fable. Thus, a condition of ordinary proof, required by the deity of the Mosaic as well as by the deity of the Christian system, is not fulfilled. Far less does the evidence satisfy that most righteous demand ever put forward by each earnest man, for proof of the highest and strictest kind, before he yields a conscience-approved assent to occurrences and to claims professing to be specially representative of a being held to be beyond and supreme over Nature. How else but by the demand for strictest proof could special manifestations of a true God (if any such had occurred or were to occur) be distinguished from pretence and imposture? Each religious system judges the pretensions of all others by severe tests of evidence and rightful incredulity, but refuses to apply these to its own. And what sort of being can they conceive an Almighty to be who affirm that he not only commands and approves belief in supernatural events, on such evidence and on such grounds as are put forth by the New Testament compilers, or on the impassioned utterances of preachers or other emotional influences, but also that he has left those to perish in their sins who do not so believe. He, an Almighty maker of the universe, approve credulity, disapprove rightful incredulity and keen inquiry, ordain belief without conscience-satisfying evidence, less regardful of truth, less righteous than man! (b) It has also been made clear that the New Testament deity is altogether different from the Mosaic, and that the various conceptions with reference to the supernatural claims of Jesus are of heathen (i.e., non-Mosaic) origin. A woman conceiving a child through direct intercourse with the deity, that child brought up as the reputed son of her husband, the tale of the star-gazing wise men of the East, the spirit of the Eternal appearing in a bodily shape like a dove, the ordinance of baptism, the arch-fiend Satan and his subject demons, the heaven and hell of the New Testament, the resurrection of Jesus, his subsequent appearances, his ascension, the doctrine of a future life, all, it has been found, corresponded to the prominent religious beliefs of the various Gentile nations, and were wholly opposed to or ignored by Mosaic teaching. The claim of Christianity, therefore, to be the representative of the Mosaic deity is thus destroyed, and the alleged fulfilment of Jewish prophecy in the events of the life of Jesus is also seen, on careful examination of the details, to be altogether without foundation. There is thus no ground for that conscience-satisfying belief which might otherwise have rested on valid evidence of the power, and wonder-working, and special revelations, and faithfully fulfilled predictions of _one and the same being_ continued down through many generations of men. 2. What, then, is left to those who had cherished these beliefs, and rested on them, when their fond faith and hope are overthrown by fairly prosecuted inquiry? What, rather, is _not_ left? Their own life on earth; their fellow-men in their various relations; the good earth on which man holds the highest position and subdues to his own use; the knowledge and understanding of the material and moral laws of the universe and its harmony and order; the application of these laws, so far as they affect the well-being of man, to the alleviation of misery, to the diffusion of comfort, and to general progress, physical, moral, and intellectual,--all these remain,--sources of rejoicing and thankfulness, objects of affection, of solicitude, of admiration--ample scope for the exercise of every useful and loving and noble quality of the race. So, then, may we be taught to number the days of our brief life "that we may apply our hearts unto wisdom." 
40207	----	THE CHRISTIAN DOCTRINE OF HELL By J. M. Wheeler 1890. THE CHRISTIAN DOCTRINE OF HELL I WOULD not willingly quit this world without having said my say upon the most terrible of all its superstitions, the doctrine of eternal torments--which Archdeacon Farrar describes as the "hideous incubus of atrocious conceptions"--and which, in my own experience, is the cause of appalling apprehensions and even insanity in the minds of the sensitive and weak-minded. If there is a hell, that is the most important fact in the universe. Compared with an eternity of torment, all that this little life has to offer is but as nothing. If there is no hell, then, it seems to me, the faith in Jesus is vain, for no such salvation as that offered by orthodox Christianity is necessary. Not only is the doctrine of eternal torments clearly taught in Scripture, but it is, as I shall show, historically bound up with the creed of Christendom. It may be said, why attack a superstition confessedly falling into decay? Satan, that once excellent scapegoat for all misdeeds, is superannuated. Hell is never mentioned to ears polite. Since Freethought came into the world its temperature has considerably decreased. The brimstone business threatens to become obsolete. It is none the less the corner-stone of the whole system, and when it finally collapses it will bring down other doctrines with it. The Salvationist, no less than the Jesuit, knows its power. As the old beadle said, "A kirk without a hell is'na worth a damn." Upon the healthy-minded the doctrine of eternal torments will soon have no more effect than water upon a duck's back. But mental health and strength are not the inheritance of all. If the dogma was not taught until minds were mature enough to examine it, it might safely be left; but while it is continually taught to infancy, to seek to eradicate it is the duty of those who regard it as a pernicious error. To me it appears that the best way to do this is to show what the doctrine has actually been in the days when Christianity was unquestioned. Christians are becoming ashamed of their hell--which they rarely realise as possibly the fate of themselves or their friends; that way madness lies. They cannot get rid of the definite statements in the New Testament, but they avoid dwelling on them, or attempt to construe them figuratively. Hell was hot enough when religion was powerful. As it declines it is discovered that hell is not so terrible after all. Modern exegesis, striving to explain hell away, only steps in when conscience and freethought have declared against it. It is taught in the plainest terms. Take but the passage, Matt. xxv. 46, "These shall go away into _everlasting_ punishment, but the righteous into life _eternal_." It is said everlasting does not mean lasting for ever, and in some cases this might be granted, but surely it is a different matter when eternal punishment is, without any limitation, directly compared with eternal life, and the same word is applied to both. Again, exactly the same expression which is used to signify the eternity of God, that of his being _for ever and ever_, as in Rev. iv. 9, v. 14, x. 6, and xv. 7, is used of the torments of those in hell in Rev. xiv. 11. In the explanation of the parable of the tares, Jesus tells his prosaic disciples: "The enemy that sowed them is the devil; the harvest is the end of the world; and the reapers are the angels. As therefore the tares are gathered and burned in the fire; so shall it be in the end of this world" (Matt. xiii. 39-40). There we see the simile is used to illustrate hell; not hell used as a simile to illustrate something else. The early Christians undoubtedly believed in a literal Devil, angels, and end of the world, and with equal certainty in a literal hell and material fire. Yet we are now asked to believe that when Jesus spoke of hell, "where the worm dieth not and the fire is not quenched" (Mark ix. 46), since there is _no_ fire it cannot require quenching. Jesus relates, in the most matter-of-fact way (Luke xvi.), that a certain rich man died, and "in hell," "being in torments," he lifted up his eyes and beheld Lazarus in Abraham's bosom. He cried for a drop of water to cool his tongue, "for I am tormented in this flame." The man had committed no other recorded offence than faring sumptuously, yet he was met with the stern response, "between us and you there is a great gulf fixed." He then asks that his brethren may be warned of his fate, and this, too, is denied. The voice of humanity cried from hell, and heaven answered with inhumanity. If this picture of heaven and hell is true, God and his saints are monsters of infamy. If false, what other "revealed" doctrine can be credited, since this is so devised for the benefit of those who trade in terrorism? If hell is a metaphor, of which there is no indication in the narrative, so also is heaven. Give up material fire and brimstone, you must resign the bodily resurrection, the visible coming of Christ, and the New Jerusalem. Allegorise hell, you make heaven unreal. A figurative Devil suggests a figment God. The Revelation of St. John expressly speaks of the worshippers of the beast, or enemies of God, being "tormented with fire and brimstone in the presence of the holy angels, and in the presence of the Lamb. And the smoke of their torment ascendeth up for ever and ever" (xiv. 10-11). Nice enjoyment, this, for the elect. Fancy parents regarding the eternal anguish of their children! Converted wives looking on while their unbelieving husbands are tormented and "have no rest day nor night" in "the lake that burneth with fire and brimstone"! Picture it, think of it, Christian, and then offer praises to your God for having provided this place of eternal torture for some other than yourself. Who go to hell? According to the Bible and the creeds the immense majority of mankind. "Strait is the gate, and narrow is the way, which leadeth unto life, and few there be that find it" (Matt. vii. 14). Many are called but few chosen; and there is no other name under heaven, save that of Jesus, whereby men can be saved. The proportion of those who lived before Christ must be, even according to Bible chronology, immensely larger than all who have lived since, and of these now, after eighteen centuries of the divine religion, not more than a third of the world's inhabitants are even nominal Christians. When we consider how few Christians are really believers, and how scarcely any of them attempt to carry out the precepts of their Master, it must be allowed that the population of hell is out of all proportion to that of heaven. The doctrine of the church has been "He that believeth and is baptised shall be saved, and he that believeth not shall be damned." The idea of this text has probably done more harm to humanity than it has benefited from the rest of the gospel, for it has countenanced all the ill-will and persecution that has everywhere followed in the train of Christianity. I know it will be said that this passage, indeed the whole of the sixteenth of Mark from the ninth verse to the end, is wanting in some of the ancient manuscripts; but while the Authorised version is circulated as the word of God, it is properly cited. And indeed if this doctrine is discarded there is much else that must go with it. Freethought having discredited the doctrine of eternal torments as absurd and dishonoring to God, stress is now laid upon passages indicating a more hopeful doctrine. To one who looks at the general tenor of Scripture, these are of no weight in opposition to the clear and emphatic declarations I have cited. There is no express statement that punishment hereafter will be terminable. On the contrary, the evident teaching is that as the tree falls so it must lie. No hope is extended to the rich man in hell. That the current belief in the time of Jesus was in the eternity of punishments, we have the testimony of Josephus, who declares this both of the Pharisees and the Essenes.* We have also the testimony of the Fathers. Clement, the apostolic father, said to be the "fellow laborer" of Paul, mentioned in Philip iv. 3, says in his Second Epistle, chap. viii., "Once cast into the furnace of fire there is no longer any help for it. For after we have gone out of the world no further power of confessing or repenting will belong to us." Polycarp, when threatened with martyrdom, is said to have made answer (Ep. to Philippians, xi.), "Thou threatenest me with fire which burneth for an hour, and after a little is extinguished, but art ignorant of the fire of the coming judgment and of eternal punishment reserved for the ungodly." Ignatius too speaks of "the unquenchable fire" (Ep. to Ephesians, 16). *Antiq. xviii. 1-3; Wars ii, 8, 11-14. All the early Fathers considered the fire of hell as a real material fire. Justin Martyr, who wrote before the collection of the Gospels, said in his first Apology, chap. xxi., "We believe that those who live wickedly and do not repent are punished in everlasting fire." In numerous other passages he refers to punishment in eternal fire; and says (First Apol., chap. hi), "then shall they repent, when it profits them not." Athenagoras, too (chap. xxxvi.), declares that "the body which has ministered to the irrational impulses of the soul, and to its desires, will be punished along with it." St. Irenæus, the first of the Fathers who definitely alludes to the four Gospels, says, in his work against heresies (bk. ii., chap. 28, § 7), "That eternal fire is prepared for sinners, both the Lord has plainly declared, and the rest of the Scriptures demonstrate. And that God foreknew that this would happen, the Scriptures do in like manner demonstrate, since He prepared eternal fire from the beginning for those who were afterwards to transgress His commandments." What a blessed thing is Christianity to reveal such a nice loving Father as this! So Bishop Hippolytus, in his _Refutation of all Heresies_, bk. x. chap. 30, speaks of "the boiling flood of hell's eternal lake of fire, and the eye ever fixed in menacing glare of [wicked] angels chained in Tartarus as punishment for their sins." Tertullian, in his treatise on the Resurrection of the Flesh, chap. xxxv., declares "The fire of hell is eternal--expressly announced as an everlasting penalty," and he asks, "whence shall come the weeping and gnashing of teeth if not from _eyes and teeth?_" In his treatise, _De Anima_, chap. vii., he thus alludes to the story of Dives. "Do you suppose that this end of the blessed poor man and the miserable rich man is only imaginary? Then why the name of Lazarus in this narrative, if the circumstance is not in [the category of] a real occurrence?" This Christian Father absolutely gloats over the prospect of witnessing these torments:--"Which sight gives me Joy? which rouses me to exultation?--as I see so many illustrious monarchs, whose reception into the heavens was publicly announced, groaning now in the lowest darkness with great Jove himself, and those, too, who bore witness of their exaltation; governors of provinces, too, who persecuted the Christian name, in fires more fierce than those which in the days of their pride they raged against the followers of Christ!" He exultingly continues: "I shall have a better opportunity then of hearing the tragedians, louder-voiced in their own calamity; of viewing the play-actors much more 'dissolute' in the dissolving flame; of looking upon the charioteer, all glowing in his chariot of fire; of witnessing the wrestlers, not in their gymnasia, but tossing in the fiery billows."* An echo of this famous passage may be traced in Cardinal Newman's sermon "On Neglect of Divine Calls and Warnings." St. Cyprian, in his address to Demetrianus, says: "We are rendered patient by our security of a vindication to come. The innocent give place to the guilty; the guileless acquiesce in their punishments and tortures, certain and assured that anything we suffer will not remain unavenged.... What joy for the believers, what sorrow for the faithless; to have refused to believe here, and now be unable to return in order that they may believe! Hell ever burning will consume the accursed, and a devouring punishment of lively flames; nor will there be that from whence their torments can ever receive either repose or end. Souls with their bodies will be saved unto suffering in tortures infinite. There that man will be seen by us for ever, who made us his spectacle here for a season; what brief enjoyment those cruel eyes received from the persecutions wrought upon us will be balanced against a spectacle eternal." And the savage saint backs up his pleasant prospect with "Holy Scripture." * De Spectaculis, c. 30. I have quoted the rendering in the orthodox Ante-Nicene Christian Library, vol. xi., pp. 34-35. Gibbon's version is more forcible. Lactantius, in his Divine Institutes, bk. vi., chap. 3, contrasts the immortality promised to the righteous with "everlasting punishment threatened to the unrighteous." In bk. vii. chap. 21, he says, "because they have committed sins in their bodies, they will again be clothed with flesh that they may make atonement in their bodies; and yet it will not be that flesh with which God clothed man, like this our earthly body, but indestructible and abiding for ever, that it may be able to hold out against tortures and everlasting fire." St. Chrysostom represents the torments of the damned in a variety of horrid pictures. He says: "But if you are speaking against luxury, and introduce discourse by the way concerning hell, the thing will cheer you and beget much pleasure. Let us not then avoid discourses concerning hell, that we may avoid hell. Let us not banish the remembrance of punishment, that we may escape punishment. If the rich man had reflected upon that fire, he would not have sinned; but because he never was mindful of it, therefore he fell into it."* * Homily on 2 Thess. i., 1-2. In Homily on 2 Thess. i., 9-10, "It is not only not milder, but much more terrible than is threatened." Hear the golden-mouthed Father (Homily on Heb. i., 1-2): "Let us then consider how great a misery it must be to be for ever burning, and to be in darkness, and to utter unnumbered groanings, and to gnash the teeth and not even to be heard.... Think what it is when we are burning with all the murderers of the whole world neither seeing, nor being seen.... Wherefore I entreat you," continues the saint, "to be _ever_ revolving these things with yourselves, and to submit to the pain of the words, that we may not have the things to undergo as our punishment." Again he says (Hom. Heb. xi. 37-38), "Why, what are ten thousand years to ages boundless and without end? Not so much as one drop to the boundless ocean.... Were it not well to be cut [by scourging] times out of number, to be slain, to be burned, to undergo ten thousand deaths, to endure everything whatsoever that is dreadful both in word and deed?"* Origen, for considering that the punishment of the wicked consisted in separation from God, was condemned as heretical by the Council of Carthage, A.D. 398, and afterwards by other Councils. St. Augustine (_City of God_, bk, xxi. chap. 17) censures Origen for his merciful view, and says "the Church, not without reason, condemned him for this and other errors." In the same book (chap. 23) this great father declares that everlasting is used by Jesus (Matt. xxv. 41) as meaning "for ever" and nothing else than "endless duration." He argues, with ingenious varieties of reasoning, to show how the material bodies of the damned may withstand annihilation in everlasting fire. He held that hell was in the centre of the earth, and that God supplied the central fire with earth by a miracle. Jerome and the other orthodox Fathers no less held to a material hell. In the middle ages Christian literature was mainly composed of the legendary visions of saints, in which views across the gulf had a large share. The Devil was represented bound by red-hot chains, on a burning gridiron in the centre of hell. The screams of his never-ending agony made its rafters to resound; but his hands were free, and with these he seized the lost souls, crushed them like grapes against his teeth, and then drew them by his breath down the fiery cavern of his throat. Demons with hooks of red-hot iron plunged souls alternately into fire and sea. Some of the lost were hung up by their tongues, others were sawn asunder, others gnawed by serpents, others beaten together on an anvil and welded into a single mass, others boiled and then strained through a cloth, others twined in the embrace of demons whose limbs were of flame.** * Library of the Fathers, pp. 15-16. * Lecky, History of European Morals, vol. ii., p. 222. Is it strange that the ages when Christian barbarism overcame Pagan civilisation were known as the Dark Ages? "George Eliot" well says that "where the tremendous alternative of everlasting torments is believed in--believed in so that it becomes a motive determining the life--not only persecution, but every other form of severity and gloom are the legitimate consequences." Grandly horrible is the reflection in Dante's _Inferno_ of the doctrine of hell, held in the palmiest days of Christianity. The gloom of that poem is relieved by a few touches of compunction at the doom of noble heathen and of tenderness for those who sinned through love; proving the poet superior to his creed. Yet consider the punishment of heretics, buried in burning sepulchres while from their furnace tombs rise endless wails. Think of the terrible inscription, _Lasciate ogni speranza voi ch'entrate_. Remember that Dante placed in this hell his political opponents, and how he depicts himself as striking the faces and pulling the hair of the tormented; then answer, is not this great poem a lasting monument of Christian barbarity? St. Thomas Aquinas, the angelic doctor, treats of the punishment of hell under the title _Poena Damnatorum_,* and teaches (1) that the damned will suffer other punishments besides that of fire; (2) that the "undying worm" is remorse of conscience; (3) that the darkness of hell is physical darkness, only so much light being admitted as will allow the lost to see and apprehend the punishments of the place; (4) that as both body and soul are punished, the fire of hell will be a material fire, of the same nature as ordinary fire but with different properties; and the place of punishment, though not certainly known, is probably under the earth. Hagenbach, in his _History of Doctrines_, 209, note cliv., says of the blessed, "They witness the suffering of the damned without being seen by the latter," and refers to Peter Lombard and Thomas Aquinas. Even the mystic Suso expressed himself as follows:-- 'Give us a millstone,' say the damned, 'as large as the whole earth, and so wide in circumference as to touch the sky all around and let a little bird come once in a hundred thousand years and pick off a small particle of the stone, not larger than the tenth part of a grain of millet, and after another hundred thousand years let him come again, so that in ten hundred thousand years he would pick off as much as a grain of millet, we wretched sinners would desire nothing but that the stone might have an end, and thus our pains also; yet even that cannot be.'** * Summæ Suppl. qu 97. ** Quoted in Hagenbach's History of Doctrines, 210, vol. ii., p. 152 The work of Father Pinamonti, entitled _Hell Opened to Christians_, has been for over two hundred years one of the most popular among Catholic Christians. It has also circulated among Protestants. An English version, with horrible pictures of the torments of the damned, has gone through many editions. We recommend its purchase to those who complain of the illustrations in the _Freethinker_, or who desire to see how savage the Christian religion is at bottom. The Christian Father of course accepts the literal meaning of hell fire. He says (p. 28): "Every one that is damned will be like a lighted furnace, which has its own flames in itself; all the filthy blood will boil in the veins, the brains in the skull, the heart in the breast, the bowels within the unfortunate body, surrounded with an abyss of' fire out of which it cannot escape." _The Sight of Hell_, by the Rev. J. Fumiss, C.S.S.R., is another popular work issued "permissu superiorum" among "Books for Children and Young Persons." A more atrocious composition it is difficult to conceive. The agony is piled on as though the imagination of the writer revelled in the description of torture. One specimen, a mild one, will suffice:-- Perhaps at this moment, seven o'clock in the evening, a child is just going into Hell. To-morrow evening at seven o'clock, go and knock at the gates of Hell and ask what the child is doing. The devils will go and look. Then they will come back again and say, _the child is burning!_ Go in a week and ask what the child is doing; you will get the same answer--_it is burning!_ Go in a year and ask, the same answer comes--_it is burning!_ Go in a million of years and ask the same question; the answer is just the same--_it is burning!_ So if you go for ever and ever, you will always get the same answer--_it is burning in the fire!_ I declare I would rather put into the hands of any young child Boccaccio's _Decameron_, or any of the works put on the Roman _Index Librorum Prohibitorum_, with which I am acquainted, than this pious work by a Christian Father. Protestantism did nothing to lighten the realm of outer darkness. Rather, by its repudiation of the priest-serving doctrine of purgatory, it rendered more glaring the contrast between the condition of the saved and that of the non-elect. Calvin asks: "How is it that the fall of Adam involves so many nations, _with their infant children_, to eternal death without remedy, unless that it so seemed meet to God?" The same holy Christian says of the damned: "For ever harassed with a dreadful tempest, they shall feel themselves torn asunder by an angry God, and transfixed and penetrated by mortal stings, terrified by the thunderbolts of God, and broken by the weight of his hand, so that to sink into any gulf would be more tolerable than to stand for a moment in these terrors." According to the _Westminster Confession_, ch. xxxiii.: "The wicked who know not God and obey not the gospel of Jesus Christ, shall be cast into eternal torments." And the _Larger Catechism_, A. 29, declares: "The punishments of sin in the world to come are everlasting separation from the comfortable presence of God, and most grievous torments in soul and body, without intermission, in hell fire forever." "They that have done good shall go into life everlasting; and they that have done evil into everlasting _fire_," is the doctrine of the _Book of Common Prayer_. Bishop Jeremy Taylor, the prose poet of the Church of England, says in his discourse on the Pains of Hell*: "We are amazed at the inhumanity of Phalaris, who roasted men in his brazen bull: this was joy in respect of that fire of hell which penetrates the very entrails without consuming them." "Husbands shall see their wives, parents shall see their children, tormented before their eyes." Picture it, think of it, Christian, and then give praises to your demon God. The good, really good, bishop tells us the bodies of the damned shall be crowded together in hell like grapes in a wine press, which press one another till they burst. "Every distinct sense and organ shall be assailed with its own appropriate and most exquisite sufferings." Surely the creed is accursed which led so worthy a man as Taylor to paint with unction this description of the Pains of Hell. * Contemplation of the State of Man, ch. 68. Our own Milton, liberal in theology though he was, adheres to the Biblical idea of Regions of Sorrow! doleful Shades! where Peace And Rest can never dwell; Hope never comes, That comes to all: but Torture without End Still urges, and a fiery Deluge fed With ever-burning sulphur unconsum'd. Bishop Hall says: "What, oh, what is it to conceive of lying in a _fire more intense than nature can kindle_, for hundreds, thousands, millions, yea millions of millions of years, which, after all, are only a minute of time compared with eternity." Dr. Barrow asserts that "our bodies will be afflicted continually by a sulphurous flame piercing the inmost smews." Wesley says: Eternity and deep despair On every flame is written there. Again he says: "From the moment wherein they are plunged into the lake of fire, _burning with brimstone_, their torments are not only without intermission, but likewise without end." The sight of the torments of the damned in hell will increase the ecstacy of the saints in heaven. This is the doctrine of St. John, and it has been repeated by orthodox Christian preachers times without number. And though orthodox Christian preachers dare not preach it now, it is the legitimate outcome of their belief. In heaven the angels see all, and must therefore witness the torments of the damned; and these do not diminish their happiness, though the damned be their own parents or their own children. Jonathan Edwards, one of the most consistent Christians that ever breathed, devoted a work to the subject. The Thirteenth Sermon of his _Works_ is entitled "The End of the Wicked contemplated by the Righteous," and is particularly devoted to the illustration of the doctrine that "the sight of hell torments will exalt the happiness of the saints forever." "It will," he continues, "not only make them more sensible of the greatness and freeness of the grace of God in their happiness, but it really makes their happiness the greater, as it will make them more _sensible_ of their own happiness. It will give them a more lively relish of it; it will make them prize it more. When they see others who were of the same nature, and born under the same circumstances, plunged in such misery, and they so distinguished, it will make them the more sensible how happy they are."* In his direful poem on the Last Day, the once popular Dr. Young makes one of God's victims vainly ask: This one, this slender, almost no request: When I have wept a thousand lives away, When torment is grown weary of its prey, When I have ran of anguish'd years in fire Ten thousand thousands, let me then expire. The pious Dr. Samuel Hopkins thus displays the Divine character and illustrates the loving kindness of the blessed Scripture promises: "The smoke of their torment shall ascend up in the sight of the blessed for ever and ever, and serve, as a most clear glass before their eyes, to give them a bright and most effective view. This display of the Divine character will be most entertaining to all who love God, will give them the highest and most ineffable pleasure. Should the fire of this eternal punishment cease, it would in a great measure obscure the light of heaven and put an end to a great part of the happiness and glory of the blessed." Contrast with this holy utterance of the pious Christian, the burning words of the Atheist poet, James Thomson: If any human soul at all Must die the second death, must fall Into that gulph of quenchless flame Which keeps its victims still the same, Unpurified as unconsumed, To everlasting torments doomed; Then I give God my scorn and hate, And turning back from Heaven's gate (Suppose me got there!) bow, Adieu! Almighty Devil, damn me too.** Baxter, in his _Saint's Everlasting Best_, declares: "The principal author of hell torments is God himself. As it was no less than God whom the sinner had offended, so it is no less than God who will punish them for their offences. He has prepared those torments for his enemies.... The everlasting flames of hell will not be thought too hot for the rebellious; and when they have burnt there for millions of ages, he will not repent him of the evil which is befallen them." * The Eternity of Hell Torments, p. 25 (London. 1789). ** Vane's Story. Was not Shelley right when he described the Christian God:-- A vengeful, pitiless and almighty fiend, Whose mercy is a nick-name for the rage Of tameless tigers hungering for blood. It would be easy to multiply citations. Spurgeon, among living divines, has preached hell as hot as anybody. But the doctrine is decaying together with real faith in Christianity. Walter Savage Landor well says: "The priesthood in all religions sings the same anthem. First, the abuses are stoutly defended, but when the ground is no longer tenable, then these abuses are to be distinguished and separated from the true faith." But what are we to think of the sudden conversion of a church that has taught falsity so long? If it did not know the truth on this important point, how can it be credited with knowing it upon any other matter? The rejection of hell cuts the ground from under the gospel. Salvation supposes a prior damnation. If there is no hell no Savior is needed. Christianity is all of a piece, and, its main prop gone it must fall like a house of cards. 
40458	----	Transcriber's Note: Every effort has been made to replicate this text as faithfully as possible, including some inconsistencies in hyphenation. Some changes of spelling and punctuation have been made. They are listed at the end of the text. Italic text has been marked with _underscores_. [Illustration] The REAL JESUS of the FOUR GOSPELS _By_ J. B. ATWATER MINNEAPOLIS, MINN. 1922 Copyrighted, 1921 J. B. ATWATER THIS BOOK IS DEDICATED TO ALL THOSE WHO, IN AGES PAST, HAVE SUFFERED OR SHED THEIR BLOOD ON ACCOUNT OF CREEDS, DOGMAS, THEOLOGIES, INQUISITIONS OR OTHER PERVERSIONS OF THE SIMPLE, ALL-SUFFICIENT RELIGION TAUGHT BY JESUS: LOVE THE LORD, THY GOD, WITH ALL THY HEART, AND THY NEIGHBOR AS THYSELF. PREFACE The first part of this work is a collation of all that is said, and just what is said, in each of the four Gospels, regarding the more important incidents of Jesus' life. Every statement in the text, it is thought, is accurate, free from personal coloring or sectarian bias, and may be verified from the passages cited. After examining various lives of Jesus, harmonies of the Gospels, etc., there seemed to be need of such a work, which would furnish simply the facts, and leave the reader to form his own conclusions. Certain notes are appended in elucidation of or comment on the text, and these may be taken for what they are worth. Their underlying idea is, that the true greatness of Jesus lay in His being a human Teacher and not a Divine Redeemer, and therefore the supernatural parts of the Gospel story are not of vital importance. The King James version has been used, since that has been the Bible of English-speaking peoples up to the present century, and their conceptions of Jesus have been formed from it, and not from the revised version. The differences between the two versions are probably not material to any matter herein discussed. The second part is an attempt to point out, and comment on, the many and wide divergences that have grown up between the preachings of Jesus and the practices of His professed followers. Its object is not to criticise the short-comings of Christianity, but to bring home to the people of the United States a realization of the practical effect which these divergences have had, and are now having, on political and economic questions of high import to the present and future welfare of mankind. The REAL JESUS of the FOUR GOSPELS PART I GENEALOGY Mark and John give no genealogy of Jesus, except that He was the son of Joseph and Mary (Mark III:31; VI:3; John I:45; II:1; XIX:25), and is spoken of as the son of David (Mark X:47, 48; XI:10; John VII:42). Matthew gives a genealogy from Abraham down to Joseph (Chap. I), and Luke gives one from Joseph up to Adam (III:2, 23-28).[1] These two lines of ancestry are the same from Abraham down to David. There they diverge into two separate lines. Matthew has the next in descent Solomon, son of David and Bathsheba, former wife of Uriah, the Hittite (1 Chron. III:5). Luke has, in place of Solomon, his fullblood brother Nathan (1 Chron. III:5).[2] From this point down, there is little agreement between the two lines of descent. Even as to the father of Joseph, Matthew has Jacob, while Luke says his name was Heli. They agree as to Joseph's grandfather--Matthan or Matthat--but, as to his great grandfather, Matthew has Eleazar, while Luke has Levi. As to Matthew's line of descent from Solomon, most of his names will be found in I Chron. Chap. III, although there are several differences. Where Luke obtained his names of Nathan's descendants, does not appear.[3] CONCEPTION Matthew and Luke state that Jesus was conceived of Mary, when a virgin, by the Holy Ghost (Matt. Chap. I, Luke Chap. I). Mark and John are silent on the subject, except as they speak of Jesus as being the son of Joseph and Mary (Mark III:31; VI:3; John I:45; II:1; XIX:25). Matthew says that Joseph, after he was "espoused" to Mary and was her "husband", but before they "came together", discovered that she was with child and was "minded to put her away privily." But an angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream, and told him that his "wife" was with child by the Holy Ghost,[4] and would bring forth a son, and that he should call His name Jesus. Matthew adds that this was in fulfillment of an Old Testament prophesy, "Behold, a virgin shall be with child and shall bring forth a son, and they shall call His name Immanuel" (Isaiah VII:14).[5] Luke gives the name of the angel, to-wit: Gabriel,[6] but he appears to _Mary_ instead of to _Joseph_. He also appeared _before_ Mary's conception, instead of _after_, as in Matthew.[7] Apparently Mary, while "espoused" to Joseph, was not yet his "wife", since she asks the angel how she shall conceive, "seeing that I know not a man?" (Luke I:34).[8] It would also seem that the appearance of the angel was not in a dream, since his conversation with Mary is related as any ordinary conversation between two natural persons.[9] PRE-NATAL INCIDENTS Luke gives (Chap. I) a quite lengthy account of the conception of John the Baptist, which is very similar to the story of the conception of Samson in the Old Testament (Judges Chap. XIII). He also tells of a three months' visit of Mary to Elisabeth, mother of John the Baptist and Mary's cousin (Luke I:36), and of Elisabeth's recognition of Mary as the mother of "My Lord" (Luke I:43).[10] While Mary treated the announcement of the angel rather indifferently (Luke I:38), she now, on this salutation of Elisabeth, pours out a grand hymn of invocation and thanksgiving for the blessing that has come upon her (Luke I:46-55). The three other evangelists are silent as to these incidents and do not mention any relationship between Jesus and John. BIRTH AND CHILDHOOD Mark and John furnish no information as to the life of Jesus prior to His baptism by John. Both Matthew and Luke agree in giving Bethlehem of Judæa as the place of Jesus' birth. Apparently Matthew considered Bethlehem the then residence of Joseph and Mary, for he says nothing of their presence there being temporary, and Joseph, when he returned from Egypt, was going back to Judæa (Bethlehem), but, on being warned of God in a dream, "he turned aside into the parts of Galilee; and he came and dwelt in a city called Nazareth" (Matt. II:22, 23). Luke, however, says that Joseph and Mary came down to Bethlehem from Nazareth to be taxed (or enrolled), and, because there was no room for them in the inn, Jesus, when born, was laid in a manger. Matthew does not mention any manger, but, on the other hand, the "wise men of the East" find the family in "the house," as would be natural if Bethlehem was Joseph's residence (Matt. II:11). Matthew alone tells the story of the visit of the wise men from the East (Matt. II:1-2). He does not tell us the country from which they came, nor how they learned of the approaching birth of Jesus, the usual _deus ex machina_ of Matthew and Luke--an angel in a dream--not being used here, although he appears in warning the wise men not to see Herod on their return (Matt. II:12). Matthew also relates that it was revealed to the "wise men" that Jesus was to be "king of the Jews" (Matt. II:2). But Jesus never used this title as applying to Himself, and, that He did use it, was one of the "false" charges made against Him at His trial (John XVIII:33, 34, 36). Luke also has a visit to the new born Jesus, but it is of shepherds "in the same country," instead of strangers from the East. To these shepherds appeared, not a star, but first one angel and then "a multitude of the heavenly host." This gives Luke the opportunity to introduce a beautiful hymn of greeting to the new born Babe, which is entirely lacking in Matthew (Luke II:10-14). The shepherds did their homage by "glorifying and praising God," instead of by gifts of gold and frankincense and myrrh (Matt. II:11). Matthew is the only one of the evangelists to tell of the slaying by Herod of "all the children that were in Bethlehem and in all the coasts thereof from two years old and under," and the flight of Joseph and Mary to Egypt (Matt. II:16-23).[11] Luke alone tells of the visit to the temple when Jesus was twelve years old, and of His meeting the "doctors," "both hearing them and asking them questions" (Luke II:46).[12] BAPTISM OF JESUS John's baptism of Jesus is the first event in the latter's life which all four evangelists unite in recording. The earlier events related by Matthew and Luke--Mark and John either do not know, or do not believe, or do not deem worth recording. John begins his preaching about the year A. D. 26 (Luke III:1). Apparently Jesus was "about thirty years of age" when He was baptized (Luke III:23). The four Gospels describe at some length, and with substantial agreement, the preaching of John and the incidents of the baptism (Matt. III, Mark I, Luke III, John I). Matthew's narrative covers seventeen verses, and John recognizes Jesus, for he says, "I have need to be baptized of Thee, and comest Thou to me?" (Matt. III:14). It does not appear that any one but Jesus saw the dove descending from heaven, or heard the voice (Matt. III:16-17). Mark's narrative is the most concise, covering eleven verses, and omitting one or two points of John's preaching and his recognition of Jesus, as given in Matthew (Mark I:1-11). It does not appear that John knew or greeted Jesus in any way, or that any one but Jesus saw the dove or heard the voice. Luke expands the story to twenty-two verses (Luke III:1-22), adding some points of John's preaching not given in Matthew or Mark. The baptismal ceremony is condensed into two verses, and, as in Luke, it does not appear that John recognized Jesus, or that any one but Jesus saw the dove or heard the voice. John's account covers twenty-two verses (John I:15-36), and differs quite markedly from the other three. This Gospel adds a material point to John's preaching not in the others (John I:15-18), and omits certain points appearing in the others. The actual baptism itself is not described, but John speaks of it as an event that had occurred. He did not recognize Jesus on first meeting Him (contrary to Matthew's version): "And I knew Him not" (John I:31, 33). But "I saw the spirit descending from heaven like a dove and it abode upon Him" (John I:32). And "He that sent me to baptize with water, the same said unto me, Upon whom thou shalt see the Spirit descending and remaining on Him, the same is He which baptizeth with the Holy Ghost" (John I:33). On account of this sign, therefore, he accepted Jesus as the "Lamb of God."[13] JESUS' MISSION AS HE CONCEIVED IT DURING HIS LIFE-TIME From this point on, the accounts of Jesus' movements in the four Gospels are so confusing and contradictory that the only feasible plan seems to be to follow one Gospel to its end, noting similarities or differences in the other Gospels as they occur in the course of the narrative. But, before starting on this, it seems necessary to grasp clearly just what was Jesus' basic purpose in this, His life-work. Probably nine out of ten of His followers of today would say that it was to redeem mankind and convert the world to His teachings. Now, the evidence of the four Gospels is directly contrary to this view. Jesus had little regard for the Gentiles or Heathen, and no interest whatever in their conversion. His references to them are usually derogatory and rather contemptuous (Matt. VI:32; X:18; XVIII:17; XX:19; Mark X:33, 42, 43; Luke XXII:25), although there are one or two exceptions, when He is upbraiding the Jews for their unbelief (Matt. VIII:10; XI:21). Apparently He never preached to the Gentiles, and was loath to exercise His healing powers for their benefit. When the woman of Canaan besought Him to cure her daughter, He at first refused on the ground that His healing powers were reserved for the Jews. "It is not meet to take the children's bread and cast it to _dogs_" (Matt. XV:26). In His instructions to His apostles and disciples (Matt. X; Mark VI:7-13; Luke IX:1-6), He does not enjoin on them to preach to the Gentiles, but, on the contrary, expressly prohibits them from doing so. "Go not into the way of the Gentiles, and, into any city of the Samaritans, enter ye not" (Matt. X:5; see also Matt. X:23). The apostles, as judges in heaven, are to have jurisdiction, not over the Gentiles, but only over Jews. "Ye, also, shall sit upon twelve thrones, judging the _twelve tribes of Israel_" (Matt. XIX:28). The angel who announced Jesus' conception to Joseph said that "He shall save _His people_ from their sins"--not the whole world or "all nations" (Matt. I:21). So the angel who announced the conception of Jesus to Mary said that God should give unto Him the throne of His father David, and that He should "reign over the _house of Jacob_ forever" (Luke I:32, 33). One of the first recorded utterances of Jesus is: "Think not that I come to destroy the Law or the prophets. I am not come to _destroy_, but to _fulfill_" (Matt. V:17). The converted Paul, with the over-zeal that often marks converts, conceived that his own mission was to _destroy_ the old Jewish law, and worked most successfully towards that end, overcoming the opposition of Peter, James, John and other intimate associates of Jesus (Gal. Chap. II). But Jesus, in adhering to the old Law, necessarily excluded from His scheme of redemption all Gentiles and others who did not practice circumcision and similar obligatory rites of the Jewish faith. Finally, we have Jesus' own clear and positive declaration of His understanding of His mission. "I am not sent but unto the lost sheep of the house of Israel" (Matt. XV:24). As against this explicit statement of His position, the two ambiguous references to some future (apparently after His death) preaching of His Gospel "for a witness unto all nations," or that it "must first be published among all nations," can have no weight (Matt. XXIV:14; Mark XIII:10). The evidence establishes beyond a doubt that the characterization of Jesus by Paul and others who had never heard or seen Him, as an evangel to the Gentiles and a redeemer of mankind, was not only not authorized by Jesus, but was explicitly repudiated by Him. His only mission, as He conceived it, was to bring back the Jews to the true, simple worship of the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob.[14] That Jesus failed in this mission must be admitted. At first the people flocked in multitudes to listen to His preaching. This was due in part to their expectation of a coming Messiah and, no doubt, in part to the effect of John's work. But what the Jews expected was an earthly kingdom and a ruler who would give them victory over the heathen. They had no interest whatever in a spiritual kingdom. Their disappointment was bitter when they found that Jesus promised them only a kingdom in heaven. Nor were they affected by such miracles as healing the sick, making the blind to see, the lame to walk, etc. The miracles they demanded were those of the Old Testament, when the Lord of Hosts visited His overwhelming wrath upon the armies of their enemies. His neighbors of Galilee were the first to fall away from Jesus, and apparently He felt this defection deeply (Compare Matt. IV:25 with Matt. XIII:57, 58; Mark I:28 with VI:4, 5, 6). Even His own brothers did not believe in Him (John VII:5). This opposition to Him spread (Matt. XI:20; XIII:57), and gradually deepened into active animosity, so that He was on occasions driven out of different places, or was in danger of stoning or death (Matt. VIII:34; Luke IV:29; John VII:I, 19, 44; VIII:59; X:39). Finally the end came at Jerusalem, when His personal adherents had apparently dwindled down to a few besides His apostles. Jerusalem had always shown Him little favor, but, at this time of the Passover, it was filled with Jews from all parts of their country. Yet, when Pilate offered to release Him to the people, there was none to ask for His freedom. At the very last, even all His disciples fled from Him (Matt. XXVI:56). Some small bands or sects of Jewish followers survived His death, but their numbers constantly diminished, and all of them disappeared within a few centuries after His death. From that time to this the Jews have consistently, and practically unanimously, rejected Jesus' teachings and His claims to be their Messiah.[15] JESUS' FAST IN THE WILDERNESS Matthew, Mark and Luke say that Jesus, after His baptism by John, was "led up," or driven "of the Spirit" into the wilderness, staying there forty days fasting and being "tempted of the devil" (Matt. IV:1-11; Mark I:12, 13; Luke IV:1-13). Mark says that this was "immediately" after the baptism, and condenses the event into two verses. Matthew and Luke give in detail the temptations of the devil. Matthew and Mark mention that Jesus was ministered to by angels. Luke adds at the end that the devil departed from Him "for a season."[16] John directly contradicts this story of Matthew, Mark and Luke. He gives Jesus' movements specifically for three days after His baptism. On the first day He calls two of His apostles, Andrew and his brother Simon Peter (John I:35-42). On the second day He calls Philip, and here occurs the interview with Nathaniel (John I:43-51), which appears only in this Gospel. On the third day Jesus, instead of fasting in the wilderness, attends a marriage feast in Cana of Galilee, and performs what John says was His first miracle--the turning of water into wine (John II:1-11). "After this He went down to Capernaum, He and His mother and His brethren and His disciples; and they continued there not many days" (John II:12). "And the Jews' Passover was at hand, and Jesus went up to Jerusalem" (John II:13). THE CALLING OF THE APOSTLES Matthew says that, after the fasting in the wilderness and after a visit to Nazareth, Jesus "came and dwelt in Capernaum" on the coast of the Sea of Galilee (Matt. IV:12,13). As He was walking by the sea, he found Peter and Andrew fishing, and summoned them to follow Him (Matt. IV:18,19,20). Going on from thence He found James and John fishing and summoned them also (Matt. IV:21-22). Matthew does not tell us of the circumstances of the calling of the other apostles except Matthew. After the delivery of the Sermon on the Mount, and the performance of various miracles, and Jesus had come into Capernaum (Matt. IX:1; IV:13),[17] as He "passed forth from thence, He saw a man named Matthew sitting at the receipt of custom; and He saith unto him, follow me, and he arose and followed Him" (Matt. IX:9). Matthew speaks several times of the "disciples" (apostles)[18] collectively, both before and after the calling of Matthew (Matt. V:1; VIII:23,25; IX:19). The names of the twelve are given in Chap. X:1-4. Mark has the same account as Matthew of the calling of Peter, Andrew, James and John, but in place of the calling of Matthew has the following: "And as He passed by he saw _Levi_, the son of Alphaeus, sitting at the receipt of custom, and said unto him, follow me. And he arose and followed Him" (Mark II:14). After this Mark several times mentions His "disciples" (Mark II:15, 16, 18, 23; III:7, 9), and later says that He "ordained twelve that they might be with Him and that He might send them forth to preach" (Mark III:14). Both Matthew and Mark give James "the son of Alphaeus," as one of the apostles, but not Levi. Luke relates that Jesus found Peter, with James and John, his "partners," fishing by the "Sea of Gennesaret" (Galilee), and called them and they followed Him (Luke V:1-11). He omits any mention of Andrew and adds two new incidents, that Jesus "taught the people out of the ship," and that Peter and the others put out their nets and they "inclosed a great multitude of fishes; and their net broke." A little later Jesus "saw a publican, named Levi, sitting at the receipt of custom," and He said to him, "Follow me, and he left all, rose and followed Him" (Luke V:27, 28). Luke adds here the incident that Levi "made Him a great feast," at which publicans and others sat down, and the scribes and Pharisees rebuked the disciples, saying "Why do you eat and drink with publicans and sinners?" (Luke V:27-32).[19] At some uncertain time later Jesus called "unto Him His disciples, and of them He chose twelve, whom also He named apostles" (Luke VI:13). Then follow the names, the same as in Matthew and Mark. John's story is somewhat variant. Jesus' baptism took place at Bethabara, beyond Jordan, in the Decapolis, and some distance both from Nazareth and the Sea of Galilee. Here, on the next day, Jesus meets John and two of His disciples (John I:35, 36). One of these is Andrew, and he brings His brother Simon Peter to Jesus. The two acknowledge Him as the Messiah, and thereafter follow Him (John I:40-42). The following day Jesus finds Philip and makes him one of His disciples (John I:43). There is no further mention of any specific apostles being called by Jesus, although there are constant references to His disciples being with Him (John II:2, 12, 17; III:22; IV:8). There is no specific account of the choosing of the twelve, although the Gospel mentions later that they had been chosen (John VI:67, 70). In the last chapter of John "Nathaniel of Cana" is mentioned apparently as one of the twelve apostles (John XXI:2), although his name is not in the lists of Matthew, Mark and Luke. He was probably the same Nathaniel who appears earlier in this Gospel (John I:43-51). THE SERMON ON THE MOUNT The Sermon on the Mount is the first discourse by Jesus narrated by Matthew, and is the longest connected discourse to be found in the four Gospels. The place of its delivery is not fixed other than that "He went up into a mountain," but it was probably some elevation of land in Galilee, near Capernaum (Matt. IV:13). The time of its delivery is also not fixed, although it must have been shortly after the baptism by John. Jesus had already done some preaching in Galilee and performed some miracles (Matt. IV:23, 24), but the delivery of the sermon ante-dates all the specific miracles which Matthew relates. The discourse covers three chapters (109 verses) of Matthew's text. There is, in the four Gospels, no other connected discourse corresponding to the Sermon on the Mount, except in Luke. In Chapter VI he gives a discourse covering twenty-nine verses of his text, which are substantially the same as corresponding verses of the Sermon on the Mount. The place of the delivery of this discourse is not fixed, except that it was on a "plain" (Luke VI:17), probably near Capernaum (Luke VII:1). The time is not fixed, except that Luke's sermon on the plain occurs _after_ a number of miracles and other events (Luke IV:33-44; VI:1-19), while in Matthew's narrative the Sermon on the Mount occurs _before_ these events (Matt. VIII and following). Some of the verses of this discourse will be found scattered through Mark and John, but a considerable portion of it is entirely lacking. For instance, the "beatitudes" do not appear in either Mark or John.[20] THE LORD'S PRAYER In Matthew the Lord's Prayer forms a part of the Sermon on the Mount (Matt. VI:9-13).[21] According to Luke (Luke XI:2-4) it was given to the disciples alone, and not to a multitude, as in Matthew. In Luke it also comes at a much later date than the delivery of the Sermon on the Mount. One verse is slightly different, Luke having, "and forgive us our sins; for we also forgive every one who is indebted to us," in place of Matthew's "and forgive us our debts as we forgive our debtors." Luke also omits the last sentence in Matthew's version. The Lord's Prayer is not found in Mark or John.[22] THE FIRST MIRACLES Matthew says, in a general way, that Jesus healed "all manner of sickness" before the delivery of the Sermon on the Mount (Matt. IV:23, 24). But the first specific miracles which he describes occurred after that event (Matt. VIII:1-15). The first was the leper, the second the centurion's servant, afflicted with palsy, and the third was the mother of Simon Peter's wife, who was "sick of a fever." Jesus saw and touched the leper and Peter's wife's mother, but the centurion's servant was one of the few cases where the cure was effected in the absence of the patient and without Jesus' seeing him. The curing of the leper is described by Mark (I:40) and by Luke (V:12). Luke describes the healing of the centurion's servant (VII:1-10), differing only in that the friends of the centurion came to Jesus instead of the centurion in person, as in Matthew. Mark and Luke both relate the curing of Peter's wife's mother (Mark I:30; Luke IV:38). John mentions none of these miracles, but, alone of all four evangelists, narrates the miracle at Cana of changing water into wine (John II:1-10), and says that this was Jesus' first miracle (John II:11). He then describes the curing of the sick "son of a nobleman of Capernaum" (John IV:46-53), and says that this was the second miracle "which Jesus did when He was come out of Judæa into Galilee," viz: after His baptism by John (John IV:54). The circumstances of this miracle are quite similar to those of the centurion's servant described by Matthew and Luke, the cure being effected in the absence of the patient. Matthew next gives the miracle of the stilling of the tempest (Matt. VIII:23-27), which is also found in Mark (IV:35-41), and in Luke (VIII:22-25). This miracle is not found in John. Then follows the miracle of driving the devils out of the two men of the "country of the Gergesenes," and sending them into a herd of swine which "ran violently down a steep place into the sea and perished in the waters" (Matt. VIII:28-34). Mark narrates the same miracle as occurring in the country of the Gadarenes, except there is one man instead of two (Mark V:1-20). The sufferings of this man, who is possessed of "an unclean spirit," are described in some detail. The spirit, being asked for his "name," says, "My name is Legion; for we are many." Thereupon he or they beseech Jesus not to send them away out of the country, but: "Send us into the swine, that we may enter into them." Jesus "gave them leave," and they entered into the swine ("they were about two thousand") and the swine ran violently down a steep place, and "were choked in the sea." Luke's account (Luke VIII:26-40) follows substantially that of Mark. There was one man in the country of the Gadarenes "which had devils a long time." The devil or devils besought Jesus "that He would not command them to go out into the deep," but would send them into the swine. This Jesus does, and the swine run down a steep place and are choked in the sea. All three accounts agree that, after the miracle, "the whole city," or "the whole multitude of the country of the Gadarenes round about," besought Jesus to depart from them. The only reason given for this action is the statement of Luke "for they were taken with great fear" (Luke VIII:37). John does not mention this miracle.[23] THE RAISING OF THE DEAD There are three miracles of this class in the Gospels. The first (apparently) in point of time is related by Luke (Luke VII:11-17).[24] The day after the curing of the centurion's servant at Capernaum (Luke VII:1), Jesus went into a city called Nain, with "many of His disciples" and "much people" (Luke VII:11). Nain was an inland city in the southern part of Galilee, some distance from Capernaum and the sea of Galilee. This is the only time that this city is mentioned in the four Gospels. As Jesus approaches the city, the dead man is carried out, followed by his mother, a widow, and "much people of the city" (Luke VII:12). Apparently without any solicitation, Jesus tells the dead man to arise, "and he that was dead sat up and began to speak" (Luke VII:13, 14, 15). The dead man and his relatives are not otherwise identified and there is no reference to this miracle in any of the other Gospels. The next miracle of this class is that of Jairus' daughter. Matthew relates that, while Jesus was at Capernaum after the miracle of the Gadarene swine (Matt. IX:1, 10), a "certain ruler" came to Him and said: "My daughter is even now dead; but come and lay Thy hand upon her, and she shall live" (Matt. IX:18). In answer to this request Jesus and His disciples go to the ruler's house, and find "the minstrels and the people making a noise." Jesus says, "Give place, for the maid is not dead but sleepeth. And they laughed Him to scorn. But when the people were put forth, He went in and took her by the hand, and the maid arose" (Matt. IX:23, 24, 25). On the way to the ruler's house occurs the miracle of the woman with an issue of blood touching Jesus' garment and being cured (Matt. IX:20, 21, 22). Mark places this miracle immediately after that of the Gadarene swine, when Jesus had passed over the sea (Galilee) unto the other side (Capernaum), nigh unto the sea (Mark V:21). "One of the rulers of the synagogue, Jairus by name," came to Him and told Him, "My little daughter lieth at the point of death" (Mark V:23). Jesus takes with him only Peter and James and John, and, on the way to the ruler's house, word is brought that the daughter is dead (Mark V:35, 37). Jesus brings the father, mother, Peter, James and John into the girl's room, takes her by the hand and bids her arise. At once she arose and walked, "for she was of the age of twelve years" (Mark V:40, 41, 42). The curing of the woman with the issue of blood is also given, but at considerable more length than in Matthew (Mark V:25-34). Luke's account (Luke VIII:41-56) is substantially the same as that of Mark. The daughter "lay a dying" when Jairus went to get Jesus, and word of her death comes just as the miracle on the woman with an issue of blood is performed. Jesus took the father and mother and Peter, James and John into the house, but, apparently, excluded them from the girl's room, when he performed the miracle. "And He put them all out, and took her by the hand, and called, saying, Maid, arise" (Luke VIII:54). The raising of Lazarus from his grave is told only by John (John XI:1-46). It occurred late in Jesus' prophetic career, very shortly before the last Passover (John XI:55; XII:1, and following). Jesus was then at Bethabara in Decapolis (John X:40; I:28). Lazarus and his sisters, Mary and Martha, were living in Bethany, in Judæa, quite near Jerusalem, but some little distance from Bethabara. Jesus already knew the family and "loved Martha and her sister and Lazarus." Lazarus falling sick, the sisters send to Jesus saying, "Lord, behold, he whom Thou lovest is sick" (John XI:3). Jesus does not go at once but waits two days (John XI:6). Apparently the reason for this delay is that, instead of healing a sick man, He may raise a dead man from the grave "that the Son of God might be glorified thereby" (John XI:4, 11-15). When Jesus came to Bethany, He "found that he (Lazarus) had lain in the grave four days already" (John XI:17). Martha first, and then Mary, came out to meet Jesus, and express their belief that, if He had been there, Lazarus would not have died; but are in doubt as to his now being restored to life (John XI:24, 32, 39). They then go to the grave, which "was a cave and a stone lay upon it" (John XI:38). Jesus then "cried with a loud voice, Lazarus, come forth. And he that was dead came forth, bound hand and foot with grave-clothes, and his face was bound about with a napkin" (John XI:43-44).[25] THE LOAVES AND FISHES Matthew relates that Jesus departed hence (from Capernaum, Matt. XIII:54) "by ship into a desert place apart" (Matt. XIV:13). This was just after the beheading of John the Baptist by Herod (Matt. XIV:10, 11, 12). A "great multitude" followed Jesus, "and He healed their sick" (Matt. XIV:14). At evening the disciples wished Jesus "to send the multitude away that they may go into the villages and buy themselves victuals" (Matt. XIV:15). But Jesus said, "Give ye them to eat." They had but five loaves and two fishes, and Jesus took these and broke them and the disciples distributed them to the multitude (Matt. XIV:16-19). "And they did all eat and were filled; and they took up of the fragments that remained twelve baskets full. And they that had eaten were about five thousand men, besides women and children" (Matt. XIV:20, 21). Mark, Luke and John follow very closely the narrative of Matthew, Luke adding the detail that the "desert place" belonged to the city of Bethsaida[26] (Mark VI:30-45; Luke IX:10-17; John VI:1-13). A similar miracle is related by Matthew and Mark (Matt. XV:29-39; Mark VIII:1-9) as occurring shortly after the first, on a mountain near the sea (Galilee) in "the midst of the coasts of Decapolis" (Mark VII:31). There were seven loaves and a "few small fishes," seven baskets full of the broken food were left, and they that did eat "were four thousand men, besides women and children" (Matthew), or "about four thousand" (Mark). Luke and John do not give this miracle. OTHER MIRACLES Besides those already mentioned, the following specific miracles are found in Matthew, the details of which it is not necessary to give. These are outside of general and indefinite statements of persons cured of various afflictions. (a) The curing at Capernaum of the man sick of the palsy (Matt. IX:1-7). See Mark II:1-12, Luke V:17-26, where the sick man is let down on his bed through the roof. (b) The giving sight to two blind men, apparently at Capernaum (Matt. IX:27-31). (c) Restoring his speech to a dumb man at the same time and place (Matt. IX:32-34). (d) Curing of the man with the withered hand (Matt. XII:10-13). The place of this miracle is uncertain. (e) The case of the blind and dumb man possessed of a devil (Matt. XII:22, 23). The circumstances of this miracle are the same as in (c). (f) The walking on the waters (Matt. XIV:22-23) near the land of Gennesaret (Matt. XIV:34). See Mark VI:47-52; John VI:16-21. (g) The curing of the daughter of the Gentile woman "vexed with a devil" (Matt. XV:22-28). The place of this miracle was "the coasts of Tyre and Sidon" (Matt. XIV:21). (h) The curing of the lunatic son of a "certain man" (Matt. XVII:14-18). This occurred in some part of Galilee not specified (Matt. XVII:1, 22, 24). See also Mark IX:17-27; Luke IX:37-42. (i) The curing of the two blind men near Jericho (Matt. XX:30-34). See also Mark X:46-52; Luke XVIII:35-43. (j) The blasting of the fig tree near Bethany (Matt. XXI:18-20). See Mark XI:12-14, who explains the absence of figs on the tree--"for the time of figs was not yet."[27] THE INSTRUCTIONS TO THE APOSTLES Matthew devotes an entire chapter to this subject (Matt. X). This is the first time in Matthew's narrative that the term "Apostles" is applied to the followers or disciples of Jesus (Matt. X:2). Up to this point he has mentioned specifically the calling of only five of the apostles (Matt. IV:18, 21; IX:9), although there are possible references to others (Matt. VIII:19, 21). The first injunction is that they shall not preach to the Gentiles or Samaritans, but "to the lost sheep of the house of Israel" (Matt. X:5, 6). The only instruction as to the subject-matter of their preachings is that they shall say "the kingdom of heaven is at hand" (Matt. X:7). They are told to "heal the sick, cleanse the lepers, raise the dead, cast out devils" (Matt. X:8). They are to provide no money for their expenses and carry little raiment (Matt. X:9,10). When they enter into a city, they are to seek a worthy house and abide therein, and, if a city will not receive and hear them, "It shall be more tolerable for the land of Sodom and Gomorrah in the day of judgment than for that city" (Matt. X:11-15). The remainder of the chapter contains warnings of the trials that will befall the apostles on their mission, admonitions against losing their courage and promises of the rewards that will follow the faithful performance of their work. Jesus also predicts the family dissensions that will accompany the gradual introduction of His Gospel, and in that connection uses the expression: "Think not that I am come to send peace on earth; I came not to send peace, but a sword" (Matt. X:34). The place of this statement is not fixed, nor the time, except that it appears in the narrative after the Sermon on the Mount and the raising of Jairus' daughter. Mark tells how Jesus went "up into a mountain and calleth unto Him whom he would" (Mark III:13). He then "ordained twelve, that they should be with Him, and that He might send them forth to preach" (Mark III:14). Then follow the names of the twelve apostles, the calling of four of whom Mark had already related (Mark I:16-20). At a somewhat later time he tells of the sending forth of the twelve apostles, but condenses the instructions to them into four verses (Mark VI:7-13). Luke tells that Jesus, "having gone out into a mountain to pray, called unto Him His disciples, and of them He chose twelve, whom also He named apostles" (Luke VI:13, 14). The calling of Andrew, Peter, James and John, and of Levi (if he were one of the apostles) had already been given (Luke V:1-10, 27, 28). The instructions to the apostles appear later in his narrative and are condensed into three verses (Luke IX:1-6). Luke alone of the four evangelists tells that, at a later date, Jesus "appointed other seventy also" to go before Him and preach (Luke X:1). To these seventy are given instructions similar to those given to the twelve in Matthew (Luke X:2-12). John tells of the calling of Andrew, Peter and Philip (John I:40, 41, 43), but has no account of any special instructions given to the apostles.[28] THE TEMPERATE LIFE In rebuking the obduracy of the then generation of the Jews, Jesus illustrates His view of right living, viz: temperance in all things. "For John came neither eating nor drinking, and they say, He hath a devil. The Son of Man came eating and drinking, and they say, Behold a man gluttonous and a wine bibber, a friend of publicans and sinners" (Matt. XI:18, 19). In the face of the example of asceticism set by John the Baptist, Jesus neither fasted Himself, nor did He enjoin fasting on His disciples (Matt. XI:18, 19; IX:14; Mark II:18; Luke V:33). While He objected to the charge of excess, He both ate meat and drank wine in moderation, and inculcated the same practice on His disciples. "And in the same house remain eating and drinking such things as they give" (Luke X:7). He must have been companionable in His every-day life, for He both entertained in His own house (Matt. IX:10; Mark II:15), and was a welcome guest at entertainments given in His honor. "And Levi made Him a great feast at His own house" (Luke V:29). "And it came to pass as He went into the house of one of the chief Pharisees to eat bread on the Sabbath day" (Luke XIV:1). "And the third day there was a marriage in Cana of Galilee; and the mother of Jesus was there; and both Jesus was called and His disciples to the marriage" (John II:1, 2). "There they made Him a supper" (John XII:2).[29] He could sympathize with the spirit of joy and cheer appropriate to such occasions, for when the wine failed at the wedding in Cana, He provided a fresh supply, better than the first (John II:3-10). THE OBSERVANCE OF THE SABBATH On a certain Sabbath day, Jesus and His disciples were passing through the corn fields (Matt. XII:1; Mark II:23; Luke VI:1). Luke says that it was "the second Sabbath after the first," probably calling "the first" the one on which Jesus preached in the synagogue at Nazareth (Luke IV:16). The disciples, being hungry, began to pluck and eat the ears of corn. The Pharisees object that they "do that which is not lawful to do on the Sabbath day." Jesus cites the example of David eating the shew-bread in the house of God, and says that if they understood the meaning of the saying, "I will have mercy and not sacrifice," they would not have condemned the guiltless. "And He said unto them, The Sabbath was made for man, and not man for the Sabbath. Therefore the Son of Man is Lord also of the Sabbath" (Mark II:27). On another Sabbath day (Luke VI:1, 6), a man with a withered hand was in the synagogue, and the scribes and Pharisees asked Jesus, "Is it lawful to heal on the Sabbath days? That they might accuse him." Jesus cites the case of a sheep falling into a pit on the Sabbath day, and says: "Wherefore it is lawful to _do well_ on the Sabbath day." Thereupon He restores the man's hand "whole" (Matt. XII:10-13). In Mark and Luke, Jesus asks the question of the scribes and Pharisees as to whether it was lawful to _do good_ on the Sabbath day. "But they held their peace. And when He had looked round about on them with anger, being grieved for the hardness of their hearts, He saith unto the man, stretch forth thine hand" (Mark III:1-5; Luke VI:6-10). Again Jesus is teaching in the synagogue on the Sabbath and cures a woman of a "spirit of infirmity" of eighteen years' continuance. The "ruler of the synagogue" objects "with indignation" to this healing on the Sabbath, because "there are six days in which men ought to work." Jesus says: "Thou hypocrite, doth not each one of you on the Sabbath loose his ox or his ass from the stall, and lead him away to watering" (Luke XIII:11-17). Another similar case occurred when Jesus "went into the house of one of the chief Pharisees to eat bread on the Sabbath," and healed a certain man "which had the dropsy." Here He cites against the Pharisees the illustration of an ass or an ox falling into a pit on the Sabbath day (Luke XIV:1-6). John records two more cases of cures being performed on the Sabbath day, and of the Pharisees objecting to them as unlawful acts (John V:1-17; IX:1-38. See John VII:23).[30] THE TRANSFIGURATION Six (or eight) days after certain preaching, Jesus "taketh Peter, James and John" and "bringeth them up into an high mountain apart, and was transfigured before them; and His face did shine as the sun, and His raiment was white as the light" (Matt. XVII:1, 2). Moses and Elias then appear and talk with Jesus (Matt. XVII:3). Peter proposes that they make three tabernacles (Matt. XVII:4). A cloud then overshadows them and a voice comes out of the cloud, saying, "This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased; hear ye Him" (Matt. XVII:5). The disciples are afraid, fall on their faces, but Jesus touches them and tells them to arise and be not afraid (Matt. XVII:6, 7). When they arise they see no man, except Jesus (Matt. XVII:8). As they come down from the mountain, Jesus charges them, "Tell the vision to no man, until the _Son of Man_ be risen again from the dead" (Matt. XVII:9). Mark follows closely the narrative of Matthew, and adds that the disciples "kept that saying with themselves, questioning one with another what the rising from the dead should mean" (Mark IX:2-10).[31] Luke follows the accounts of Matthew and Mark, adding that the disciples were "heavy with sleep," but saw the vision when they awoke, and "they kept it close, and told no man in those days any of those things which they had seen" (Luke IX:28-36). John says nothing about this vision. THE EVENTS PRECEDING JESUS' ARREST About the middle of his Gospel, Matthew says, "From that time forth began Jesus to shew unto His disciples" His future trial, death and resurrection at Jerusalem (Matt. XVI:21). Peter, with his faith in Jesus' earthly power, "began to rebuke" Him, saying that this should not be done unto Him (Matt. XVI:22). But Jesus turned on him and said, "Get thee behind me, Satan; thou art an offense unto me; for thou savorest not the things that be of God, but those that be of men" (Matt. XVI:23. See also Matt. XVII:22, 23). Mark and Luke both give this incident, although Luke omits the rebuke of Peter (Mark VIII:31-33; Luke IX:22). In all three Gospels the incident closely follows Peter's declaration of Jesus as "Christ, the Son of the living God" (Matt. XVI:16; Mark VIII:29; Luke IX:20). Again, at a later date, as Jesus is going up to Jerusalem, He predicts to His disciples the fate that is there awaiting Him (Matt. XX:17-18; Mark IX:31, 32; X:32; Luke XVIII:31). Just when these communications were made to the disciples is not clear, but the earliest of them must have been some time before the last visit to Jerusalem, since they precede much of Jesus' teaching and many of His parables and miracles.[32] As the last Passover approached, Jesus "departed from Galilee and came into the coasts of Judæa beyond Jordan" (Matt. XIX:1). He continued His preaching as He journeyed, and finally came to Bethphage, nigh unto Jerusalem (Matt. XXI:1). From there He sends two of His disciples to a neighboring village, and they bring to Him an ass and her colt (Matt. XXI:1-7). Riding on the ass (or the colt), He makes His entry into Jerusalem. The multitude spread their garments, and branches from the trees, in the way, crying out, "Hosanna to the son of David," and salute Him as "Jesus, the prophet of Nazareth of Galilee" (Matt. XXI:7-11).[33] Jesus then went into the temple, drove out those who bought and sold therein,[34] and healed the blind and lame (Matt. XXI:12-16). Leaving Jerusalem, Jesus goes to Bethany (Matt. XXI:17) to the house of Simon the leper (Matt. XXVI:6). On the following day He returns to Jerusalem, and on the way occurs the blasting of the fig tree (Matt. XXI:18-23). It would seem that Jesus must have spent some time in Bethany, preaching in the day time in Jerusalem, since there follow four and a half chapters of preaching and parables, which were delivered before the Passover (Matt. XXI:23-46; XXII; XXIII; XXIV; XXV).[35] While Jesus was at Simon's house in Bethany, sitting at meat, a woman (who, it seems, was Lazarus' sister Mary; see John XI:2) came in with an alabaster box of very precious ointment and poured on His head. The disciples object to this as a useless waste, but Jesus rebukes them and commends the woman for her act (Matt. XXVI:6-13). Mark follows closely Matthew's narrative to this point, except that Jesus rides into Jerusalem on a colt, "whereon man never sat" (Mark XI:2; Luke XIX:30), and except that the cleansing the temple of the money changers is omitted (Mark XI:11). Luke adds to the accounts of Matthew and Mark the encounter with Zacchaeus, and Jesus' entertainment by him (Luke XIX:1-7). According to him, it was "the whole multitude of the disciples" who greeted Jesus on His entry into Jerusalem (Luke XIX:37). Luke omits the anointing of Jesus by Mary. John omits the cleansing of the temple, which he had already given at a much earlier date (John II:13-17), and says that Mary anointed the feet of Jesus and wiped them with her hair, instead of pouring the ointment over His head (John XII:3-8). THE LAST SUPPER As the feast of unleavened bread of the Passover approaches, Jesus sends Peter and John (Luke XXII:8) into Jerusalem to secure a room, in which He and His disciples may eat, or "kill", the Passover (Matt. XXVI:17-19). The room is secured, the Passover made ready, and "when the evening was come, He sat down with the twelve" (Matt. XXVI:20).[36] While they were eating, Jesus tells the twelve that one of them shall betray Him, and indicates, in a rather veiled way, that Judas is the one. They all ask, "Master, is it I?" and He says to Judas, "Thou hast said" (Matt. XXVI:20-25). Jesus then blesses the bread and the wine, and gives them to eat and drink and says: "I will not drink henceforth of this fruit of the vine, until that day when I drink it new with you in my Father's kingdom" (Matt. XXVI:26-29). After singing a hymn, they go to the Mount of Olives, and Jesus warns them of the approaching calamity. "All ye shall be offended because of me this night." The apostles, and especially Peter, affirm that they would die rather than deny Him. Jesus says to Peter: "Verily I say unto thee, that this night, before the cock crow, thou shalt deny me thrice" (Matt. XXVI:30-35). Jesus with the disciples then goes "unto a place called Gethsemane." He takes Peter and James and John a little farther and says to them, "My soul is exceeding sorrowful, even unto death." He goes apart from them and prays, "O my Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me; nevertheless, not as I will, but as Thou wilt." He returns to find the disciples sleeping. He repeats the prayer twice, and then says to them, "Behold, the hour is at hand, and the Son of Man is betrayed into the hands of sinners" (Matt. XXVI:36-45). In Mark the two disciples are sent into the city to meet a man "bearing a pitcher of water." They are to follow him into whatsoever house he shall go in, and there secure the guest chamber. This was done, "and they made ready the Passover" (Mark XIV:12-16). While they are eating, Jesus tells them that one of them shall betray Him--"one of the twelve, that dippeth with me in the dish," but does not specify which one it is. The other incidents of the evening follow (Mark XIV:17-42) as in Matthew. Luke recounts the passing of the bread and wine, and the saying of Jesus that one of the twelve should betray Him, without specifying which one (Luke XXII:22). He then relates a new incident (that is, at this feast), a strife among the apostles as to which should be greatest. Jesus rebukes them, telling them not to imitate the Gentiles, but that he that is chief should be as he that serveth (Luke XXII: 24-30).[37] The prediction of Peter thrice denying his master takes a little different form. Instead of saying to the apostles, "All ye shall be offended because of me this night," Jesus addresses Himself to Peter alone. Evidently, having some doubt of his constancy, He says: "Simon, Simon, behold, Satan hath desired to have you, that he may sift you as wheat. But I have prayed for thee, that thy faith fail not." Peter then asserts, "Lord, I am ready to go with Thee, both into prison and to death." Jesus then predicts that Peter will deny Him thrice before the cock crows (Luke XXII:31-34). There follows a passage very difficult to understand, in view of the fact that a short time later Jesus rebukes one of His followers for cutting off the ear of the high priest's servant. He reminds His apostles of the time when He sent them forth without purse or scrip, and they lacked for nothing. He then tells them that now they should take both purse and scrip, "and he that hath no sword, let him sell his garment and buy one." "And they said, Lord, behold, here are two swords. And He said unto them, It is enough" (Luke XXII:35-38). The visit to the Mount of Olives and the prayer offered there is described more briefly than in Matthew or Mark. There is no mention of the garden of Gethsemane, but Luke adds that an angel from heaven appeared, "strengthening Him" (Luke XXII:39-46). John's version of the Last Supper is quite different from that of the other three evangelists. He omits any description of the selection of the place for the feast. He places the supper before the Passover, apparently correctly, instead of its being the celebration of the Passover, as in the other three Gospels (John XIII:1). He omits any mention of the blessing and passing of the bread and wine. He alone of the evangelists relates that, after the supper, Jesus took a basin of water and a towel, and washed the apostles' feet, impressing on them a lesson in humility (John XIII:4-17). Jesus says to the apostles that one of them shall betray Him. Peter and John ask Him, "Who is it?" Jesus answers, "It is the one to whom I shall give a sop." He then gives the sop to Judas, and says, "What thou doest, do quickly." Judas goes away at once, although none of the apostles (unless Peter and John) understand that He is accused (John XIII:18-30). After his departure, John has Jesus delivering a long discourse, covering four chapters and part of another, none of which appears at this time in the other three Gospels. After this is finished, Jesus goes with His disciples over "the brook Cedron," into a garden, but there is no mention of the praying there, which appears in the other Gospels (John XVIII:1). THE BETRAYAL On Tuesday or Wednesday of this Passover week the "chief priests and the scribes and the elders of the people" came together unto the palace of Caiaphas, the high priest, and determined on Jesus' death (Matt. XXVI:3). Judas Iscariot then comes to them and promises to deliver Jesus to them in consideration of thirty pieces of silver (Matt. XXVI:14-16). Previous to this last visit to Jerusalem, Jesus had predicted His death and betrayal, but without indicating that His betrayer would be one of the apostles (Matt. XVI:21; XX:18-19). At the last supper Jesus indicates Judas as His betrayer, but somewhat equivocally, since the other apostles, if they had understood he was the traitor, would undoubtedly have cast him out of their society. So far as appears, he continued to take part in the supper (Matt. XXVI:21-25). Just after Jesus had finished His prayer in the garden, Judas comes with a great multitude of the chief priest's servants, carrying swords and staves. In accordance with a pre-arranged plan, Judas kisses Jesus, and thereupon the servants of the priests lay hands on Him and take Him (Matt. XXVI:47-50). One of those with Jesus draws his sword and strikes off the ear of one of the high priest's servants. Jesus rebukes him, saying, "For all they that take the sword shall perish with the sword" (Matt. XXVI:51-54). "Then all the disciples forsook Him and fled" (Matt. XXVI:56). But Peter followed "Him afar off unto the high priest's palace, and went in, and sat with the servants to see the end" (Matt. XXVI:58). Then follows the fulfillment of Jesus' saying that Peter should deny Him thrice before the crowing of the cock (Matt. XXVI:69-75). Judas, when he saw that Jesus was condemned, brought the thirty pieces of silver to the chief priest in the temple, saying, "I have sinned in that I have betrayed the innocent blood." The chief priests tell him, "What is that to us? See thou to that." Thereupon Judas cast down the money in the temple, went away and hanged himself (Matt. XXVII:3-6). Mark tells of the conspiracy of the chief priests and scribes, and that Judas went to them and offered to betray Jesus. "They were glad and promised to give him money" (Mark XIV:1, 2, 10, 11). Before this, Jesus had predicted His approaching death to the apostles, but had said nothing of any betrayal (Mark IX:31; X:33). At the last supper Jesus says that one of the twelve shall betray Him, but does not identify in any way which one it is (Mark XIV:18-21). Mark then relates, as in Matthew, the kissing of Jesus by Judas (Mark XIV:43-45), the cutting off the ear of the high priest's servant (Mark XIV:47), the desertion of Jesus by all the apostles (Mark XIV:50), Peter's following Him afar off to the palace of the high priest (Mark XIV:54), and denying Him thrice before the cock should crow twice (Mark XIV:66-72). What subsequently happened to Judas, Mark does not state.[38] According to Luke, the chief priests and scribes had formed their conspiracy to kill Jesus at a somewhat earlier date than in the other Gospels (Luke XX:19). They watched and sent forth spies to listen to His words and obtain material for their charges (Luke XX:20). Jesus had already predicted His suffering and death at Jerusalem, but did not mention His betrayal (Luke XVIII:31-33). But the apostles "understood none of these things; and this saying was hid from them, neither knew they the things which were spoken" (Luke XVIII:34). As the priests and scribes are planning the time of killing Jesus (Luke XXII:2), "then entered Satan into Judas," and he went to Jesus' enemies and offered to betray Him (Luke XXII:3, 4). "And they were glad and covenanted to give him money" (Luke XXII:5). At the supper Jesus says that one of those at the table shall betray Him, but does not indicate which one (Luke XXII: 21-23). At the Mount of Olives Judas came at the head of a multitude and "drew near unto Jesus to kiss Him. But Jesus said unto him, Judas, betrayest thou the _Son of Man_ with a kiss?" (Luke XXII:47-48). Jesus then heals the servant, whose ear was cut off (Luke XXII:50, 51). Peter followed Him to the house of the high priest, and denied Him thrice before the cock crew (Luke XXII:54-62). Nothing is said about Judas' subsequent fate. According to John, Jesus knew from the beginning "who should betray Him" and at an early date told the apostles, "Have not I chosen you twelve, and one of you is a devil?" (John VI:64, 70). At or before the last supper the devil put it into Judas' heart to betray his Master (John XIII:2, 27). Jesus tells the apostles that one of them shall betray Him (John XIII:21). Peter and John desire to know which one of them He means, and Jesus tells John that it is the one to whom He shall give a sop. He then dips a sop and gives it to Judas, with the remark, "What thou doest, do quickly" (John XIII:22-27). "Now, no man at the table knew for what intent He spoke this unto him" (John XIII:28). John alone says that Judas immediately went out into the night (John XIII:30). After Jesus had finished His discourse at the supper, and gone into the garden, Judas appears with a band of men and officers from the chief priests and Pharisees (John XVIII:1-3). Jesus then "went forth and said unto them, Whom seek ye? They answered Him, Jesus of Nazareth. Jesus saith unto them, I am he. And Judas, also which betrayed Him, stood with them" (John XVIII:4, 5). Simon Peter then cuts off the right ear of Malchus, a servant of the high priest, and Jesus rebukes him (John XVIII:10, 11). Peter and another disciple, who was known to the high priest, follow Jesus to the palace, and there Peter makes his denial three times before the cock crows (John XVIII:15, 16, 17, 18, 25-27). The subsequent fate of Judas is not related.[39] THE TRIAL Immediately after His arrest, Jesus is taken away to "Caiaphas the high priest, where the scribes and the elders were assembled" (Matt. XXVI:57).[40] The council seek "false witnesses" against Jesus and at first have some difficulty in finding any. "At the last came two false witnesses, and said: This fellow said, I am able to destroy the temple of God, and to build it in three days" (Matt. XXVI:59, 60, 61). Interrogated as to this charge, "Jesus held His peace" (Matt. XXVI:62, 63). The high priest then adjures Him to tell them whether He is "the Christ, the Son of God" (Matt. XXVI:63). "Jesus saith unto him, Thou hast said: nevertheless I say unto you, Hereafter shall ye see the _Son of Man_ sitting on the right hand of power and coming in the clouds of heaven" (Matt. XXVI:64). The high priest accepts this as a confession of blasphemy, and, on appeal to the council, they say, "He is guilty of death" (Matt. XXVI:65, 66). They then indulge their spite against Jesus by spitting in His face and striking Him with their hands (Matt. XXVI:67, 68).[41] In the morning (Friday) the chief priests bind Jesus and bring Him to Pontius Pilate, the Roman "governor" or procurator (Matt. XXVII:1, 2). Pilate asks Him, "Art Thou the King of the Jews? And Jesus said unto him, Thou sayest" (Matt. XXVII:11).[42] He persists in maintaining His position of silence or non-negation against all the accusations of the chief priests, "insomuch that the governor marvelled greatly" (Matt. XXVII:12-14). Pilate's wife, having been warned in a dream, sends word to him, "Have thou nothing to do with that just man" (Matt. XXVII:19). It being a custom of the feast of the Passover that the governor should release one prisoner to the people, and Pilate, knowing that the chief priests had delivered Jesus to him out of "envy," asks the multitude whom he shall release unto them, Barabbas or Jesus (Matt. XXVII:15, 16, 17, 20, 21). The multitude demands the release of Barabbas, and, on Pilate's asking them what he shall do with Jesus, "they all say unto him, Let Him be crucified" (Matt. XXVII:22). "And the Governor said, Why, what evil hath He done? But they cried out the more, saying, Let Him be crucified" (Matt. XXVII:23). Pilate then washed his hands before the multitude, "saying, I am innocent of the blood of this just person; see ye to it. Then answered all the people and said, His blood be on us, and on our children" (Matt. XXVII:24, 25). Thereupon Pilate released Barabbas, and after he had scourged Jesus, delivered Him to be crucified (Matt. XXVII:26). In Mark the charges before the Sanhedrim are the same as in Matthew with some slight verbal changes (Mark XIV:53-66). To the question, "Art Thou the Christ, the Son of the Blessed?" Jesus answers directly, "I am." The proceedings before Pilate are substantially the same as in Matthew (Mark XV:1-15). According to Luke, the session of the Sanhedrim was held "as soon as it was day," instead of in the night, immediately after Jesus' arrest (Luke XXII:66). The only charge here is, "Art Thou the Christ?" Jesus, after a few words, recognizing the futility of any defense, says, "Ye say that I am" (Luke XXII:66-71). Luke's account of the proceedings before Pilate is more detailed than, and somewhat different from, that of Matthew and Mark. The charge is maliciously distorted so as to offend the political susceptibilities of the Romans. "We found this fellow perverting the nation, and forbidding to give tribute to Cæsar, saying that He Himself is Christ, a King" (Luke XXIII:2). Pilate, after questioning Jesus, says at once, "I find no fault in this Man" (Luke XXIII:4). This makes the chief priests the more fierce, and they press again their charges, mentioning that Jesus comes from Galilee (Luke XXIII:5). Galilee being in Herod's jurisdiction, and Herod being then in Jerusalem, Pilate sends Jesus to him, probably hoping thus to rid himself of the whole trouble (Luke XXIII:6, 7).[43] Herod questions Jesus, who answers him nothing, and then with his men of war mocks Jesus, arrays Him "in a gorgeous robe," and sends Him back to Pilate (Luke XXIII:8-11). Pilate then calls together the "chief priests and the rulers and the people," and tells them that both he and Herod have examined Jesus, and lo, "nothing worthy of death is done unto Him" (proved against Him) (Luke XXIII:13-15). "I will, therefore, chastise Him and release Him" (Luke XXIII:16). "And they cried out all at once, saying, Away with this Man, and release unto us Barabbas" (Luke XXIII:18). Twice more Pilate urges that Jesus be released, but they insist that He be crucified. Pilate finally yields and "gave sentence that it should be as they required" (Luke XXIII:20-24). Neither Mark nor Luke nor John mentions that Pilate publicly washed his hands of responsibility for Jesus' sentence. John's account of the trial is very indefinite. Jesus was first taken to Annas,[44] the father-in-law of Caiaphas, the high priest, and Annas sent Him bound unto Caiaphas (John XVIII:13, 14). There was probably a session of the Sanhedrim, though this is not clear, and it was probably at the house of the high priest (John XVIII:15). No specific charges against Jesus are mentioned, but the high priest asked Him "of His disciples, and of His doctrine" (John XVIII:19). Jesus replies that He has spoken openly, and said nothing in secret, and that the priest should ask those who had heard Him (John XVIII:19, 20, 21, 23). No formal condemnation of Jesus is related, nor is it said who was present except the high priest. Then "they" bring Jesus to Pilate "unto the hall of judgment," but "they cannot enter in, because it would defile them for the eating of the Passover that night (John XVIII:28). Pilate then comes out to them and asks what accusation they have against Jesus (John XVIII:29). They evade the issue by saying, "If He were not a malefactor, we would not have delivered Him up to thee" (John XVIII:30). Pilate very aptly tells them to take Him and judge Him according to their Law, but they reply, "It is not lawful for us to put any man to death" (John XVIII:31). Pilate thereupon goes back to the judgment hall, and, after an examination of Jesus, comes out and says, "I find in Him no fault at all" (John XVIII:33-38). He then suggests that, according to custom, he release Jesus unto them. "Then cried they all again, saying, Not this Man, but Barabbas" (John XVIII:39, 40). Upon this Pilate has Jesus scourged, a crown of thorns put on His head, and a purple robe about Him, and has the soldiers hail Him as King of the Jews (John XIX:1-3). He once more brings Jesus before the people and states that he finds no fault in Him.[45] The Jews still insist that by their law He ought to die, "because He made Himself the Son of God" (John XIX:4-7). Pilate goes back into the judgment hall, and talks further with Jesus, evidently hoping to find some way out of his dilemma (John XIX:8-11). "And from thenceforth Pilate sought to release Him; but the Jews cried out, saying, If thou let this Man go, thou art not Cæsar's friend" (John XIX:12). Pilate makes one more effort to save Jesus, but, failing, delivers Him over to be crucified (John XIX:13-16). THE CRUCIFIXION The soldiers, taking Jesus, at first mocked Him, putting on Him a scarlet robe and a crown of thorns, spitting on Him and smiting Him (Matt. XXVII:27-30). They then put His own raiment on Him, and took Him to the place of Crucifixion, on the way impressing a "man of Cyrene, Simon by name," to carry His cross (Matt. XXVII:31, 32). When they reached Golgotha, they gave Him vinegar to drink, mixed with gall, but, on tasting it, Jesus refused to drink (Matt. XXVII:33, 34). They then crucified Him with two thieves, one on each hand, and parted His raiment, casting lots (Matt. XXVII:35, 38). Over His head they set up "His accusation written: This is Jesus, the King of the Jews" (Matt. XXVII:37). The passers-by and the chief priests and the two thieves mocked and reviled Him on account of His prophecies and His failure to save Himself (Matt. XXVII:39-44). The Crucifixion was apparently at the sixth hour, and darkness was over the land until the ninth hour (Matt. XXVII:45). Jesus then cried out in a loud voice, "Eli, Eli, lama sabachthani" (Matt. XXVII:46). Some of them who stood there thought that He called for Elias; one of them took a sponge filled with vinegar and gave it to Him to drink (Matt. XXVII:47, 48). "Jesus, when He had cried again with a loud voice, yielded up the ghost" (Matt. XXVII:50). Then was the veil of the temple rent in twain, and "the earth did quake and the rocks rent" (Matt. XXVII:51). Graves were opened, and bodies of the saints which slept arose, "and came out of the graves after His resurrection," and appeared to many in the "holy city" (Matt. XXVII:52, 53). When the centurion and the soldiers saw these things done, "they feared greatly, saying, Truly this was the Son of God" (Matt. XXVII:54). There were many women from Galilee, "beholding afar off," including Mary Magdalene, Mary, Jesus' aunt, and also the mother of the apostles James and John (Matt. XXVII:55, 56). "When the even was come" Joseph, a rich man of Arimathæa, takes Jesus' body, Pilate, at his request having delivered it to him, wraps it "in a clean linen cloth," and lays it in his own new tomb, "hewn out in the rock." He rolls a great stone to the door of the sepulchre and departs (Matt. XXVII:57-60). On the following day the chief priests come to Pilate and tell him of Jesus' prophecy, that after three days He would arise again. They express their fears that the disciples may steal the body and claim that He was risen from the dead. Pilate gives them a watch, and "they went, and made the sepulchre sure, sealing the stone and setting a watch" (Matt. XVII:62-66).[46] Mark follows closely the narrative of Matthew, except he says that they offered Jesus wine mingled with myrrh to drink,[47] instead of vinegar and gall (Mark XV:23). Mark omits the supernatural happenings at the death of Jesus, except that the veil of the temple was rent in twain (Mark XV:38). He also omits any account of the sealing of the sepulchre, or the setting of a watch over it (Mark XV:46, 47). Luke omits the ill-treatment of Jesus by the soldiers before starting on their march (Luke XXIII:25, 26). "And there followed Him a great company of people, and of women, which also bewailed and lamented Him (Luke XXIII:27). Jesus delivers a short address to the women, which does not appear in the other Gospels (Luke XXIII:28-31). They bring Him to Calvary and crucify Him and the two "malefactors" (Luke XXIII:33). "Then said Jesus, Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do" (Luke XXIII:34). The superscription over Him was written in letters of Greek, Latin and Hebrew (Luke XXIII:38). Luke alone relates that, when one of the "malefactors" railed at Jesus, the other rebuked Him, and asked Jesus to remember him, when He should come into His kingdom; Jesus says to him: "Today shalt thou be with me in paradise" (Luke XXIII:39-43). The sun was darkened and the "veil of the temple was rent in the midst" (Luke XXIII:44, 45). The centurion acknowledges Jesus to be a righteous man, and "all the people that came together to that sight" smote their breasts (Luke XXIII:47, 48), "and all His acquaintance and the women that followed Him from Galilee stood afar off, beholding these things" (Luke XIII:49). Joseph of Arimathæa obtains Jesus' body from Pilate, and lays it in a new sepulchre, hewn in stone (Luke XXIII:50-53), "and the women also, which came with Him from Galilee, followed after and beheld the sepulchre, and how His body was laid. And they returned and prepared spices and ointments" (Luke XXIII:55, 56). No mention is made of any guard over the sepulchre. John does not mention the ill-treatment of Jesus by the soldiers, nor any Simon of Cyrene. According to him, Jesus Himself carried His cross (John XIX:17).[48] The title on the cross, written in Greek, Latin and Hebrew, was "Jesus of Nazareth, the King of the Jews."[49] The chief priests objected to Pilate about this (probably considering it an insult to their nation), but Pilate refused to change it (John XIX:19-22). John says that Jesus' mother, His aunt, Mary Magdalene and the disciple "whom He loved," stood by the cross. Jesus recommends His mother to this disciple's care, and "from that hour that disciple took her unto his own home" (John XIX:25-27).[50] The vinegar was then given Jesus to drink, and, at the request of the Jews, the soldiers broke the legs of the two who were crucified with Jesus, but "they brake not His legs," because He was dead already. One of the soldiers pierced His side with a spear, "came there out blood and water" (John XIX:28-37).[51] John does not mention any supernatural occurrences at the time of Jesus' death, Joseph of Arimathæa obtains Jesus' body "secretly" from Pilate, and, with the aid of Nicodemus, wound the body in linen with spices--"A mixture of myrrh and aloes, about an hundred pound weight"--"as the manner of the Jews is to bury" (John XIX:38-40). "Now, in the place where He was crucified there was a garden; and in the garden a new sepulchre, wherein was never man yet laid. There laid they Jesus therefore because of the Jews' preparation day; for the sepulchre was nigh at hand" (John XIX:41, 42). No mention is made of the attendance of the women, or of any guard being placed about the sepulchre. THE RESURRECTION About dawn on Sunday morning, the two Marys came to the sepulchre (Matt. XXVIII:1). The soldiers set to watch the tomb are there also (Matt. XXVIII:4). There is a "great earthquake, for the angel of the Lord descended from heaven, and came, and rolled back the stone from the door, and sat upon it" (Matt. XXVIII:2). "His countenance was like lightning, and his raiment white as snow" (Matt. XXVIII:3). The angel tells the women that Jesus is risen, and bids them go quickly and tell His disciples that He is risen from the dead; "and, behold, He goeth before you into _Galilee_; there shall ye see Him" (Matt. XXVIII:6, 7). As the women were on their way to tell this to the disciples, "Jesus met them, saying, All hail. And they came and held Him by the feet, and worshipped Him" (Matt. XXVIII:9). Jesus says to them to be not afraid, and to tell His brethren that He will meet them in _Galilee_ (Matt. XXVIII:10). Some of the watch go into the city and tell the chief priests what has happened (Matt. XXVIII:11). The chief priests give the soldiers "large money" to say, "His disciples came by night and stole Him away while we slept" (Matt. XXVIII:12, 13). The soldiers did as they were taught, and "this saying is commonly reported among the Jews until this day" (Matt. XXVIII:15). "Then the eleven disciples went away into Galilee, into a mountain where Jesus had appointed them. And when they saw Him, they worshipped Him, but some doubted" (Matt. XXVIII:16, 17). Jesus then tells them to teach and baptize "all nations" (Matt. XXVIII:10).[52] According to Mark, the two Marys and Salome come to the tomb early Sunday morning "at the rising of the sun" (Mark XVI:1). There was no watch there, and the stone was rolled away from the door of the sepulchre (Mark XVI:2, 3). They go into the sepulchre and find there a "young man, sitting on the right side, clothed in a long, white garment" (Mark XVI:5). The young man says to them that Jesus is risen, and that they should go and tell the disciples and Peter: "He goeth before you into _Galilee_," where they should see Him (Mark XVI:6, 7). The women fled quickly from the tomb, "neither said they anything to any man; for they were afraid" (Mark XVI:8). Then, at some time and place not specified, Jesus appears to Mary Magdalene (Mark XVI:9). She tells of this appearance to "them that had been with Him, as they mourned and wept," but they believeth not (Mark XVI:10, 11). "After that He appeared in another form unto two of them, as they walked, and went into the country. And they went and told it unto the residue: Neither believed they then" (Mark XVI:12, 13). Afterward, at a time and place not specified, Jesus appears to the eleven "as they sat at meat," and upbraided them for their unbelief and hardness of heart in not believing the accounts of His previous appearances to Mary and the two disciples (Mark. XVI:14). He then delivers a short exhortation to go into all the world and preach the Gospel to every creature, telling of the signs that should follow belief, and the punishment that should follow unbelief (Mark XVI:15, 18). "So then, after the Lord had spoken unto them, He was received up into heaven, and sat on the right hand of God" (Mark XVI:19).[53] Luke relates that the two Marys, Joanna and "other women" went to the tomb on Sunday, "very early in the morning" (Luke XXIV:1, 10). There is no watch and the stone is rolled away (Luke XXIV:2). They enter the sepulchre, find the body of Jesus gone, and, as they stand there "much perplexed," "behold, two men stood by them in shining garments" (Luke XXIV:3, 4). They were afraid, but the two men tell them that Jesus is risen, as He had predicted, and as they now remember (Luke XXIV:5, 6, 7, 8). The women then return and tell "all these things unto the eleven and to all the rest," but "their words seem to them as idle tales, and they believed them not" (Luke XXIV:9, 11). Peter then goes to the sepulchre, finds the linen clothes "laid by themselves," but apparently sees nothing of the two men (Luke XXIV:12). On the same day Cleopas[54] and another disciple go to a village called Emmaus, about three score furlongs from Jerusalem (Luke XXIV:13, 18). As they are proceeding on their way, Jesus, in the guise of a stranger, joins them. Quite a long conversation follows, the disciples telling Jesus the things that had happened to Him, and He expounding the Scriptures to them. It is evening when they reach the village, and Jesus "made as though He would go further." But the two disciples induce Him to tarry with them (Luke XXIV:15-29), "and it came to pass as He sat at meat with them, He took bread, and blessed it, and brake, and gave to them. And their eyes were opened and they knew Him; and He vanished out of their sight" (Luke XXIV:30, 31). The two return to Jerusalem and, finding the eleven there, say to them, "The Lord is risen indeed, and hath appeared to _Simon_" (Luke XXIV:32, 33, 34). They then tell the disciples what happened to them on the way (Luke XXIV:35). "As they thus spoke, Jesus Himself stood in the midst of them" (Luke XXIV:36). The disciples are terrified, and "supposed that they had seen a spirit" (Luke XXIV:37). Jesus then tells them to see and handle His hands and feet, and prove that He is real flesh and bones and not a spirit. But "they yet believed not for joy, and wondered." To finally convince them He eats before them a piece of broiled fish and some honeycomb (Luke XXIV:38-43). He then delivers a short discourse to them, telling that these things have happened to Him that the Law and the prophets might be fulfilled (Luke XXIV:44-49). They then went out to Bethany and He blessed them, and "while He blessed, He was parted from them and carried up into heaven" (Luke XXIV:50, 51). John says that Mary Magdalene came along to the sepulchre and found the stone rolled away (John XX:1). She then summons Peter and John, who enter and find the grave clothes lying around, but no body. They then "went away again unto their own home." It is added, "For as yet they knew not the Scripture, that He must rise again from the dead" (John XX:2-10). Mary remains weeping, and, looking again into the sepulchre, sees two angels in white there (John XX:11, 12). They ask her, "Why weepest thou?" and she says, "Because they have taken away my Lord and I know not where they have laid Him" (John XX:13). She then turns and sees Jesus standing, but supposes Him to be the gardener. She asks Him to tell her where they have laid Jesus, "and I will take Him away," she says (John XX:14, 15). Jesus then calls her by name, and she apparently recognizes Him and calls Him Master (John XX:16). Jesus then tells her, "Go unto my brethren and say unto them, I ascend unto my Father and your Father, and to my God and your God" (John XX:17). Mary then reports these things to the disciples, but John does not say whether they believed her, or, as Mark and Luke say, they disbelieved her (John XX:18). On this same Sunday evening, when the eleven, except Thomas, are together secretly for fear of the Jews, Jesus came to them and showed them His hands and side. Then follows a short discourse from Jesus to His disciples (John XX:20-23). When Thomas hears of this appearance, he expresses his disbelief, unless he can put his fingers into the print of the nails, and thrust his hand into His side (John XX:24, 25). Eight days later Jesus appears again to His disciples, when Thomas is present, and tells the latter to make his verifications. Thomas says unto Him, "My Lord and my God." Jesus then commends those who "have not seen, and yet have believed" (John XX:26-29). John's Gospel apparently at one time ended at this point (John XX:30, 31), but Chapter XXI was subsequently added. Here there is related a third appearance of Jesus, this time to six of the apostles and Nathaniel of Cana (John XXI:1, 2). This occurred at the sea of Tiberias, and there was a miraculous draught of fishes (see Luke V:4, 5, 6), and a hint of Peter walking on the water (see Matt. XIV:28-31). At first the disciples "knew not that it was Jesus," and, even after John tells Peter that it is the Lord, they seem to be under some restraint, "and none of the disciples durst ask Him, Who art thou, knowing that it was the Lord" (John XXI:3-12). After they had dined, there ensued some conversation between Jesus and Peter, and later with John, out of which came the saying that the latter should not die (John XXI:15-23). In neither of these appearances is there any account of Jesus ascending up into heaven, or of His instructing the disciples to preach His Gospel to all nations.[55] PART II MODERN CHRISTIANITY With the death of Jesus, died also His dream of converting the Jews to His religious ideas. A few scattered bands of followers--Nazarites or Ebionites--survived Him. But they existed only in a moribund condition, exerted no influence over the nation, and, in the course of a few centuries, disappeared from history. The Jews as a people rejected, and have always rejected, both Jesus as a Messiah and His teachings as their religion. If the Jews had then been an independent nation, living in their haughty isolation from other peoples, the power and hatred of the Pharisees would probably have stamped out the last remnants of Jesus' followers, and He would have survived only as a name in history. But the disciples (or apostles) found under the Roman rule protection for their teaching, and ready access to the Gentile communities, not only in Palestine, but throughout all the coasts of the Mediterranean. Among these communities Jesus' Gospel found a quick and ready acceptance, and, within two or three centuries after His death, it had become a mighty living force in the evolution of mankind. In the reign of Constantine, Christianity became the dominant religion in the Roman empire, and it rapidly brought under its influence the Northern Barbarians, who, in their turn, were to be the conquerors of this empire. As Christianity grew and spread and became more powerful, it lost almost all resemblance to the religion of "right living," which Jesus had taught and practiced. The spiritual and temporal powers were once more re-united, dogmas, creeds, theological disquisitions multiplied, "until the fair body of religion, revealed in almost naked purity by the prophets, is once more hidden under a new accumulation of dogmas and of ritual practices of which the primitive Nazarene knew nothing; and which He would probably have regarded as blasphemous if He could have been made to understand them." "As, century after century, the ages roll on, polytheism comes back under the disguise of mariolatry and the adoration of saints; image worship becomes as rampant as in old Egypt; adoration of relics takes the place of the old fetich-worship; the virtues of the ephod pale before those of holy coats and handkerchiefs; shrines and calvaries make up for the loss of the ark and of the high places; and even the lustral water of paganism is replaced by holy water at the porches of the temples. A touching ceremony--the common meal originally eaten in pious memory of a loved teacher--was metamorphosed into a flesh-and-blood sacrifice, supposed to possess exactly that redeeming virtue which the prophets denied to the flesh-and-blood sacrifices of their day; while the minute observance of ritual was raised to a degree of punctilious refinement which Levitical legislators might envy. And with the growth of this theology, grew its inevitable concomitant, the belief in evil spirits, in possession, in sorcery, in charms and omens, until the Christians of the twelfth century after our era were sunk in more debased and brutal superstitions than are recorded of the Israelites in the twelfth century before it." (Some Controverted Questions, Huxley, p. 159.) In the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries, the leaders of the Reformation and the New Learning began their relentless warfare upon the existing formalism and superstition, and from two different points of attack. After centuries of bloody wars, Protestantism succeeded in displacing Catholicism as the dominant religion over a large part of Northern Europe. Roman Catholicism still remained dominant in Southern Europe, and Greek Catholicism in Eastern Europe. In the meanwhile, to the eternal disgrace of the then Christendom, the followers of Mahomet had established his religion in some of the fairest portions of Southeastern Europe. If the Christian nations of the fifteenth century had expended on the practical cause of keeping Mohammedanism out of Europe one tithe of the energy and sacrifice that they did expend on the unpractical dream of recovering the Holy Sepulchre, Europe would have been spared the endless heritage of evil that has followed the introduction of the unspeakable Turk into European politics. But mutual jealousies, prejudices, petty ambitions, dissentions and discords permitted this calamity to occur, the end of which it seems is not yet. As the Reformed churches became established in power, each one developed its own formalism, different from, but no more in consonance with, Jesus' simple religion, than that of the Catholics. As dogmatic theologians, Luther, Calvin, Knox and Jonathan Edwards were little improvement over Loyola, Augustine and Justin. Predestination, fore-ordination, change of heart, infant damnation, eternal punishment, the Thirty-nine Articles, the Augsburg Confession, would have been as unintelligible to Jesus, and would have met as summary condemnation at His hands, as the quarrels between the homoi-ousians and the homo-ousians, which rent the Christian world in the third century after His death. But a more formidable champion had entered the lists against dogmatic theology and in favor of the creedless religion of Jesus. The invention of printing, the growth of science, the diffusion of education, and the development of a world-wide commerce were all working towards the eradication of superstition, the breaking down of national and racial and religious antipathies and prejudices, the cultivation of relations, first of business, and then of mutual regard and friendship between the peoples of different countries, the constant amelioration of the roughness, harshness and cruelty of earlier times, the encouragement of courtesy, consideration for others and charity towards all men. All these forces were making for Jesus' ideal of a common humanity, where the asperities of different religious creeds would cease to trouble, and each man might love his neighbor as himself. A tremendous victory had been won when the time came, that an Orthodox Catholic would admit that his righteous-living Protestant neighbor might inherit heaven as surely as himself. The optimist of the early years of this century might have hugged himself with complacency over the rapid progress which the Gospel of Jesus was making in moulding mankind towards a realization of His ideals. Then came the cataclysm of 1914. The leading nations of Europe--all Christian except the Turks--plunged into the bloodiest war of history, and on the most petty of pretexts--the political administration of an insignificant Balkan state. The Gospel of Jesus, as an efficient force restraining these nations from war, was as though it had never existed. In the communications between England, France, Russia and Germany, preliminary to the war and ostensibly seeking to avert war, did any one statesman urge the argument that the law of Jesus forbade this war? Not a single syllable, and, for the sufficient reason, that each one knew that it would fall on deaf ears and would be laughed at as "old women's talk." So far as the efficiency of such arguments was concerned, they might as well have been used between the Persians and Egyptians before Jesus was born. Then, when war broke out, came the supreme irony of each nation crowding its churches to pray for the assistance of the meek and gentle Jesus in slaughtering its enemies. Later, the victorious nations crowded their churches to thank Jesus that He had made them successful in their hellish business. There are some who can quiet their consciences by shifting the responsibility for the incalculable misery of this brutal, barbarous conflict from the sins and evil ambitions of man to the shoulders of the Almighty. With those holding this (to the writer) blasphemous doctrine, argument is useless. But to the ordinary, sincere and candid follower of Jesus, does not the occurrence of this war give occasion to pause and think--as it were, to take an account of his stock-in-trade? Why did the mighty forces of Christianity fail to work with any practical effect at this, their supreme test--the prevention of war? What promise has the future to prevent the recurrence of such evils? How far has modern Christianity kept undefiled the pure religion of the Great Nazarene? These are all questions demanding at this time the serious consideration of every thinking man, professed Christian or not. THE ETERNAL CONFLICT The Gospel of Jesus proclaimed the highest ethical ideal that had yet appeared on earth. But, as a working rule-of-conduct for practical, everyday life, it contained an essential weakness. With its acceptance by one nation after another, it became an efficient force, working with other forces in the evolution of mankind. But here it came in direct conflict with the forces of nature, which, working through countless ages, had made man what he then was. The ultimate goal of man's struggles and aspirations under the Gospel of Jesus was self-abnegation, non-resistance, the protection of the weak by the strong. The ultimate goal of nature's forces was self-assertion, battle, the crushing out of the weak by the strong. The struggle for existence and the survival of the fittest had no place in their operation for the doctrines of "turning the other cheek," and "loving thy neighbor as thyself." The two were, and always will be, as incompatible as fire and water. When the Germans, some fifty years ago, began dreaming of, and planning for, a world empire, some of their philosophers clearly recognized, and openly proclaimed, the essential antipathy between the forces of Christianity, working towards Jesus' ideal, and the forces of nature, working towards the survival of the fittest. In order to realize her dream, it was necessary for Germany to treat the Sermon on the Mount as the piping of some "idle singer of an empty day." On the assumption that the "manifest destiny" of the Germans was to be world-conquerors, these philosophers argued, with unassailable logic, that the nation had made a vital mistake in abandoning the heathen gods for the Jesus of Christianity. World-conquest demands of its aspirant merciless severity, even to the enslavement or annihilation of any unoffending people, which the "necessity of war" considers to be impeding its progress. In so far as the individual imbibes, and is affected by, the ideals of Jesus, just so far is his efficiency as a unit of the conquering nation impaired. World-conquerors can tolerate no "conscientious objectors" in their ranks. Logically their gods should be the gods of the old Valhalla, Valor, Glory, Victory. Their priests should preach war and hate, not peace and love. With a courage and consistency that left nothing unsaid, these German writers tore in twain the veil of hypocrisy with which Christian nations cover up their wars, and their schemes of colonization, benevolent assimilation, etc. They showed forth the naked truth that Jesus' ideal and nature's goal for man are the antipodes of each other, at least as regards different nations struggling with each other for supreme power. In other words, the forces of Christianity are working in one direction, and the forces of nature in another. As with the Nation, so with the Individual. Jesus (stating His ideal standard, it must be remembered) says: "Go and sell that thou hast and give to the poor" (Matt. XIX:21). Nature says: Not so. If you had done this in the beginning, you would now have nothing with which to help the poor. If you do it now, you will simply be adding yourself and your family to increase the number of the poor. Jesus says: "Take no thought for your life, what ye shall eat; neither for the body, what ye shall put on" (Luke XII:22). Nature says: Take thought for the morrow and provide for the future of yourself and your family; practice economy, frugality, thrift; see to it that the contingency of sickness, or the coming of old age, does not bring you and those dependent on you into the ranks of the poor, seeking aid from others. The contrast between the two goals is as sharply defined in the case of the individual as in the case of the nation. From this it does not follow that nature's forces do not make for altruism. As the family, the tribe or clan, the race, and the nation are successively evolved, the scope of self-interest widens and the means necessary to attain its ends become less individualistic and more humanitarian. As Fagin impresses on Noah Claypole, even in a band of thieves, the number one of Noah must also include the number one of the other members of the gang. In a modern community, whether Christian or heathen, the successful business or professional man must necessarily practice, to a greater or less degree, the same virtues inculcated by Jesus; otherwise he makes himself an outcast--an Ishmaelite--against whom every man's hand is turned. "Honesty is the best policy" of the utilitarian leads to the same results as the Gospel maxim "to deal justly with all men." Also the growth of a world-wide commerce, with the accompanying spread of international law, develops constantly a spirit of international morality. A nation today, planning a war, must look beyond the question of how its course will affect the self-interest of other nations. If it has wisdom in its councils, it must also reckon with this spirit of international morality. If its cause be too palpably unjust, or the means it adopts to secure victory be too barbarous, it may shock this international morality, and bring upon itself unexpected enemies, who may balk its best laid plans. The possibility of such contingencies arising will have far more weight than any argument based on the teaching of Jesus. THE NECESSITY OF COMPROMISE In Physics a body acted on by two divergent forces takes a course which is the resultant of (a compromise between) the two different forces. So, if Christianity is to survive as an efficient force in man's evolution, compromises must be made between the ideals of Jesus and the natural forces expressed in the terms of the struggle for existence and the survival of the fittest. It is possible that the day may come, when all nations of our planet may be converted, to put into practical operation in international affairs the ideals of Jesus. But the experience of the world during 1914 shows that little, if any, progress has been made in that direction since the Crucifixion. Suppose the Christian nations of Europe and America should announce today the doctrine of non-resistance, dismantle their fleets and dismiss their armies, how long would it be before the Moslems, or the "yellow hordes" of Asia, would enslave them and exterminate all Christian religion and civilization? Fortunately, such a result is unthinkable, and the Christian nations will, until some unknown time in the future, continue their compromise with Jesus' ideals. The unspeakable Turk will continue to understand that, if he massacres some Christian villages, the other cheek will not be turned to him, but, on the contrary, a righteous retribution of bayonet and shell will be meted out to him. A superficial glance at history illustrates the necessity of national compromise. If Moses had preached, and the Jews had put in practice, the doctrine of non-resistance, they would soon have been exterminated by their Philistine neighbors, and the Jesus that was would never have been. If the tribes of the northern barbarians in the first thousand years of our era had put into practical effect the Sermon on the Mount, as soon as they accepted Christianity, there would have been no Anglo-Saxon England and United States, as they are today. If Ferdinand and Isabella had not relied on their earthly weapons, Spain would probably have been Moslem to this day. If the Christian powers had not warred against the Turks in the sixteenth century, the greater part of Europe would have bowed the knee to Mahomet, and the Mosque would have superseded the Church as the authorized place of worship. If our colonial ancestors had obeyed the injunction, "Render to Cæsar the things that are Cæsar's," there would have been no American Revolution. If the "conscientious objectors" had swayed the councils of the North in 1861, we would now have a divided country, with slavery firmly established in one-half of it. As with the nation, so with the individual, a compromise between Jesus' ideals and the forces of nature is a necessity, at least until evolution has produced some fundamental change in human nature. It is related that when the mother and brethren of Jesus sought to speak with Him, He repudiated their special claims of relationship on Him, and said: "For whosoever shall do the will of my Father which is in heaven, the same is my brother, and sister and mother" (Matt. XII:50; Mark III:31; Luke VIII:19). In another place He says: "He that loveth father or mother more than me is not worthy of me; and he that loveth son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me" (Matt. X:37). "If any man come to me, and hate not his father, and mother, and wife, and children, and brethren, and sisters, yea, and his own life also, he cannot be my disciple" (Luke XIV:26). "And every one that hath forsaken houses, or brethren, or sisters, or father, or mother, or wife, or children, or lands, for my name's sake, shall receive a hundredfold, and shall inherit everlasting life" (Matt. XIX:29). "And He said unto another, Follow me. But he said, Lord, suffer me first to go and bury my father. "Jesus said unto him, let the dead bury their dead; but go thou and preach the kingdom of God" (Luke IX:59, 60). Now, no sane man would advocate that doctrines such as these should be put into general, practical operation under the present constitution of human nature. Their practice would make of man a selfish ascetic, would disintegrate the family into its individual units, like animals when the breeding season is past, would discourage human progress and development, and would eventually lead to the degradation or extinction of any society which attempted to consistently enforce them. Of course the individual man or woman may abjure family ties altogether, without serious loss to the community and even perhaps with some gain, just as the drones have a function to perform in a community of bees. But the universal adoption of this practice by a human community would mean its speedy death. With those who would regard this as a desirable outcome of Jesus' teachings, we have no argument. There is, however, no danger of such a condition of affairs coming to pass. For untold ages before these utterances of Jesus, nature had been developing the family affections in man. It had made the family the fundamental unit of the tribe, the clan, the race, the nation. These family affections, so planted by nature in man, must, in society as a whole, override the ethical idea of a general philanthropy, as embodied in these utterances of Jesus. The normal man has always, and does now, rank the duties to his family as paramount over those of general philanthropy. Man will continue to marry and have children in the future, as he has in the past. He will continue to regard his obligations to his family as superior and prior to those he owes to mankind in general. He will feel within himself the urge, not merely to satisfy the need of the day, but also to provide for the future. He will look forward to the education and outfitting of his children. He will guard against the contingencies of sickness and the probabilities of old age coming upon himself and those dependent on him. He will engage with all his energy in the struggle with his fellow men for the acquisition of property. He will practice industry, thrift and economy, and take every fair means to push his own business at the expense of his competitors. But in all this, even allowing that he has reasonably practiced the virtues of generosity, charity and philanthropy, there is no disguising the plain, naked truth that is all the time making compromises with the ideals of Jesus. His actions simply do not square with the maxims: Give all thy goods to the poor; take no thought for the morrow; every one who does the will of God is the same to you as your brother and sister and mother; resist not evil, but whosoever shall smite thee on thy right cheek, turn to him the other also; whosoever shall compel thee to go a mile, go with him twain; give to every man that asketh of thee, and of him that taketh away thy goods, ask them not again; love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you; lay not up for yourselves treasures upon earth; take no thought, saying, What shall we eat? Or, What shall we drink? Or, Wherewithal shall we be clothed? He that loveth father or mother more than me is not worthy of me. It is difficult to conceive how, at the present stage of man's evolution, any community of considerable size, even if we assume all external hostile interference eliminated, could put these ideals into practical effect without disaster. As we know man, he has become what he is only through strife and contest, through the survival of the strong, the industrious, the provident over the weak, the lazy, the improvident. If the struggle for existence is eliminated, is there not every reason to expect that progress will be arrested, and the nation's civilization will decay and finally disappear, as has been the case so many times in the past history of the world? The desire for the acquisition of private property and the lust for power have been the two dominant motives impelling men to raise themselves from a stage of barbarism to a stage of civilization. What motives can be substituted for those that will have the same compelling, driving force? It is only by long centuries of hard fighting with material weapons that the powers of good have so far subdued the powers of evil as to establish our present standard of humanitarianism. But if the good are to be confined to the weapon of moral suasion, how long will it be until the powers of evil are in full control? But, further, even if we assume that all evil-doers are converted from the error of their ways, the economic problem for a community working under these ideals seems insoluble. Even under the grinding necessities of the struggle for existence, the tendency of human populations to increase beyond their means of subsistence is an indisputable fact, as soon as they develop a civilization where peace and security of private property are measurably assured, and especially where manufacturing centers with large industrial populations are established. The many ancient civilizations that have arisen, flourished and decayed attest the truth of this fact. In the seventeenth century England was confronted with the problem of inadequate means of subsistence, and met it by spreading over the whole globe. What the history of the English people would have been if they had been confined to their native island, would afford an interesting subject for abstract philosophical speculation. Thus far, the vast undeveloped territories of the United States have furnished an outlet for its surplus population. But the time may not be far distant when the problem of subsistence may be a serious one with us. In modern times, nearly all the great nations have been struggling for the acquisition of new territories as an outlet for their expanding populations. Germany's economic needs were undoubtedly one of the strongest motives urging her onward in her fateful dream of world empire. France attempts to meet the difficulty by voluntary, individual action in limiting the birth rate. This remedy will always be resorted to in highly civilized nations, as the pressure of population on subsistence becomes more severe. But the decrease of population means the arrest of growth and progress in the national organism, and eventual decadence. Thus dark and uncertain is the economic outlook for nations where the competitive struggle for existence is in full sway, where the acquisition and accumulation of private property are fostered and encouraged, where thrift, industry and saving are ranked as cardinal virtues, and where proper provision for oneself and one's family is even enforced by law against the indolent and shiftless. What must be the economic future of a community from which these incentives and restraints are banished, and where sympathy for the unfortunate and the criminal, regardless of merit or desert, is to be the governing principle? It follows, then, first, that the nation, in its international relations, must compromise with the ideals of Jesus in order to preserve its national existence, and to safeguard Christianity against the attacks of its external foes; and second, that the individual, in his daily life, must compromise with these ideals to preserve the well-being and continuity of the family and to ensure the progress of mankind in happiness, morality and material prosperity. COMPROMISE IS JUSTIFIABLE The Crucifixion was but a few years old when those two old enemies whom Jesus had fought so persistently--creeds and ceremonies--began to be active among the early Christians. _Right theological thinking_ began to assert its supremacy over the _right practical living_, taught by Jesus as the first essential of His professed followers. The outside of the cup was being carefully polished up, although the inside might be unclean. Paul, who had never had any personal intercourse with Jesus, was the protagonist of this retrograde movement. Zealous, energetic, a ready writer and a subtile dialectician, his numerous epistles furnished an arsenal of weapons for all future controversial theologians. His arrogance in defining the tenets of the rapidly growing Gentile Church was not one whit abated by the fact that he had never been in personal contact with Jesus, and that in his views he was opposed to those who had been the most intimate associates of Jesus during his entire prophetic career. Quite early in his ministration, Paul has a bitter quarrel with Peter, James, Cephas, John (the pillars) and other disciples of Jesus over some question of circumcision, and has no hesitation in telling Peter (the "rock" of the new Church) to his face that "he was to be blamed" for his views (Galatians II:11 et seq.). It is not too much to say that he took the fair, smiling child of religion, as left by Jesus, and transformed it into a misshapen dwarf, with twisted and contorted limbs, and upon its face a frown of almost malevolent austerity. When right theological thinking became established as the primary essential of a Christian, and especially when Christianity acquired temporal power, it was inevitable that there should be extracted from Paul's militant writings that most abominable doctrine of "No compromise with evil." In company with dogmatic distinctions of orthodoxy and heterodoxy, it has inflicted its full quota of misery and suffering upon the human race. It formed the justification of the cruelties of the Inquisition, the religious persecutions and wars of the Middle Ages, the conversion of savages by fire and sword, the extermination of so-called witches, and the burning at the stake of countless advanced thinkers in science and religion, and other so-called heretics. Probably the unrecorded suffering which the advocates of this doctrine have inflicted in the domestic and social sphere would equal that which is written in political history. The possession of, and disposition to put into practical operation, this dogma presupposes sublime egoism, coupled with a narrowness of mind easily running into extreme bigotry. For the slightest study of history will show that the error and evil of one age becomes the truth and good of a succeeding age. But the non-compromiser ignores any consideration of that sort. If he has decided that this and that are evil, they must necessarily be evil without argument or appeal. He is the legitimate descendant of the old inquisitors, and, if he had the temporal power, would today enforce his ideas as ruthlessly throughout the nation as they did in the Middle Ages. Confined to the narrower limits of the domestic and social circle, he plays the autocrat so far as he can. Without sympathy or toleration for differing opinions and tastes, as husband, father, priest, officer, or citizen, the non-compromiser seeks to fit every one to his own _narrow_ Procrustean bed. Closely allied to the non-compromisers are the sacro-sancts, or those who would be holier than Jesus. This class is well illustrated in an incident taken from a recent novel. The heroine consults her married sister about the heroine's contemplated marriage with a man who has divorced his wife on the ground of her adultery. The sister declares that such a marriage would be no better than prostitution. "But he is legally divorced" says the heroine. "Yes, according to man's law, but not according to God's law," says the sister. Now, considering that divorce was permitted under God's law, as recorded in the Old Testament, that Matthew twice clearly and explicitly states that Jesus sanctioned divorce on the ground of adultery, and that John mentions no condemnation of divorce by Jesus, it would seem that there was at least a fair doubt as to whether the heroine's proposed marriage was contrary to God's law. But the sister, like other sacro-sancts and non-compromisers, arrogates to herself infallibility in interpreting the divine will, and will not admit argument as to her possible inaccuracy. Other examples are those who would fear to contaminate their holiness by following their Master's example in eating and associating with publicans and sinners (Matt. IX:10); who would shudder at being anointed by a prostitute (Luke VII:37); who would think the Sabbath desecrated by pleasant walks in the fields, or by feasting and joyous meetings with one's friends (Matt. XII:1; Luke XIV:1), and who in general insist on the observance of religious rites and symbols, similar to those which Jesus condemned in the Pharisees. One of the XXXIX Articles of the Protestant Episcopal Church takes a slap at these sacro-sancts (Book of Common Prayers, Article XIV). It condemns, as marks of "arrogancy and impiety," works of supererogation--that is, works over and above God's commandments. Undoubtedly the meaning here is, not to condemn excess in acts of mercy and charity, but excess in the same acts of ceremonial worship which Jesus condemned in the Pharisees: Long prayers, "standing in the synagogues" (churches), instead of in their "closet"; public fasting with "a sad countenance," so that they "disfigure their faces," instead of anointing their heads and washing their faces "that they appear not unto men to fast," making "broad their phylacteries" and giving ostentatiously their "tithe of mint and anise and cummin" (Matt. VI:1-7, 16, 17, 18; XXIII:4-7, 23). The dogma of non-compromise finds no support in the teaching and practice of Jesus. He pictured the highest ideals for mankind. But He was no bigot in demanding that fallible human beings should live up to these ideals on pain of damnation. With His wonderful tolerance and broadminded sympathy, He recognized that the happiness and progress of the human race, in its present state of evolution, necessitated certain compromises with evil. "As between two evils, choose the less," would be much nearer His position than "no compromise with evil." A short study of some of the episodes of His life will place this beyond dispute. Jesus undoubtedly considered that riches were an evil (Matt. XIX:23, 24; XIII:22; Mark X:23, 24; Luke XVIII:24, 25). He knows the "deceitfulness" of riches, and that the temptations attending the possession of wealth do not ordinarily make for righteousness. He advises that one should lay up treasure in heaven rather than on earth (Matt. VI:19, 20; Luke XII:33). Riches, then, being an evil, the non-compromiser should logically regard the rich man as a persistent evil-doer. He should constantly denounce his evil ways, as those of any other malefactor. He should refuse him his public association and friendship, since thereby he would be gilding his misconduct with the gold of his own sanctity. If a priest, he should charge his congregation to abstain from those habits of thrift and economy which will result in bringing upon them this evil of wealth. But Jesus was too sane and broad-minded not to see that the happiness of mankind demanded a compromise with this evil. While warning against the temptations of riches, He preached poverty, not as a necessity to salvation, but as an ideal, to be attained and practiced by but a few. Thus, in the case of the young man with "great possessions," Jesus, according to Matthew prefaces His counsel to sell his goods and give to the poor with the significant condition, "if thou wilt be perfect" (Matt. XIX:21). To the same effect are the accounts of Mark and Luke. "One thing thou lackest," viz., in order to be perfect (Mark X:21; Luke XVIII:22). Evidently Jesus took the concrete case of the young man to impress on His hearers one of His ideals--the high standard He set for those who aspired to be His immediate followers and the ministers of His Word. In His instructions to the twelve and the seventy, He laid down rules of conduct which practically eliminated the acquisition or possession of wealth (Matt. X:2, 9, 10; Mark VI:8, 9; Luke IX: 3; X:4). But He set no such severe standard for the rank and file of His followers, nor did He withhold His favor and countenance from the possessors of riches, as though they were evil doers. Nearly all the persons named in the Gospels as intimate friends and associates of Jesus (outside of the apostles) were, apparently, more or less prominent, and belonged at least to the well-to-do class. Joseph of Arimathæa, a disciple of Jesus, and one "waiting for the Kingdom of God," and who placed His body in the sepulchre, was a rich man (Matt. XXVII:57; Luke XXIII:50, 51). Nicodemus, who assisted Joseph in the burial, brought a hundred pound weight of myrrh and aloes indicating that he was not a poor man (John XIX:39). According to John he was the man who came to Jesus by night and was a "ruler" of the Jews (John III:1, 2; VII:50). Lazarus, whom Jesus "loved" and with whose family He was very intimate (John XI:5; Luke X:38), could not have been a poor man, since his sister anointed Jesus with an ointment "very precious" and worth more than three hundred pence (Mark XIV:3, 4, 5). On one occasion Jesus invites Himself to visit in the house of Zacchaeus, who was "chief among the publicans," rich, and a "sinner" (Luke XIX:1-7). Levi, the publican, gives a "great feast" for Jesus, which He approves by His presence (Luke V:29). On another occasion He goes to the house of one of the "chief Pharisees" to eat bread on the Sabbath day (Luke XIV:1). Several times He commends the qualities of thrift and economy (Matt. XXV:21, 23; Luke XII:42-44; Matt. XXV:3, 4; XXIV:45, 46; Luke XIX:17, 19). He constantly extols charity--the generous giving to the poor--as one of the chief virtues, but the practice of this virtue on a considerable scale necessarily implies the prior accumulation of riches. The evidence of the four Gospels proves that Jesus, without hesitation, compromised with the evil of riches. He praised voluntary poverty as an ideal for those who were supposing themselves to be already perfect, and, perhaps, demanded it of His apostles and those who assumed to be the ministers of His Word. But He imposed no such hard and fast rule for the rank and file of His followers. He did not go about fanatically denouncing the rich men as evil-doers and malefactors. On the contrary, He made them His friends, singled them out for special marks of His favor and regard, though constantly urging on them the deceitfulness of riches and the necessity of generous giving to the poor. His friendship for Mary, the sister of Lazarus, was so great that in her case He even condoned the use of the precious ointment for a purpose which He must have regarded as superfluous, instead of its being given to the poor (Matt. XXVI:6; Mark XIV:3; John XII:3). Other instances illustrate the readiness of Jesus to compromise with evil--to choose the less of two evils--when the conditions of practical human life demanded it. A notable instance of this was in the matter of paying tribute to the Romans. Undoubtedly Jesus, like all the other Jews, regarded the imposition on them of Roman sovereignty as an injustice--as a very great evil. But, under existing conditions, resistance to the Roman power was hopeless. A refusal to pay tribute by the Jews would have brought on them imprisonment, death and countless sufferings, and, if persisted in, would have resulted in the enslavement or extermination of the race. In putting to Jesus the question: "Is it lawful to give tribute unto Cæsar or not?" the Pharisees thought they had framed a dilemma from which He could not escape. If He had been a fanatical non-compromiser, He could only have answered the question in the negative. The Pharisees would then have denounced Him to the Romans, and thereby compassed His immediate death before His mission was completed. His answer, "Render therefore unto Cæsar the things which are Cæsar's, and unto God the things that are God's"--is pregnant with meaning to all religious bigots and fanatics if they could only open their minds to its significance. This earth is not a heaven, and cannot be made one so long as human beings are fallible and imperfect. Concessions and compromises must be constantly made between the material necessities of the body and the ethical ideals of the spirit. The economic ideal of the "greatest good to the greatest number" can no more be ignored by the theologian of today in formulating rules of conduct for humanity, than it was by Jesus in His time. However wrong and unjust in theory it was for the Jews to be subject to an alien race, still in practice the Roman rule was reasonably mild and humane. As between resistance and obedience to this rule, the latter was much the less evil. Consequently, Jesus wisely and sanely compromised with this evil and both paid tribute Himself (Matt. XVII:24-27), and advised His disciples to do likewise (Matt. XXII:21; Mark XII:17; Luke XX:25). Again, carrying out the same idea of compromising with the existing evils of government, Jesus commands His disciples to "observe and do" whatsoever is bidden by the scribes and Pharisees, who "sit in Moses' seat," at the same time warning them not to imitate or follow the Pharisees' "works" (Matt. XXIII:2, 3). Undoubtedly Jesus considered it an evil "to set a man at variance against his father, and the daughter against her mother, and the daughter-in-law against her mother-in-law" (Matt. X:35). He could foresee that this evil would result from the preaching of His Gospel. But better this evil, even, if it sent a "sword" on earth, than the greater evil that His Gospel should not be preached. Unchastity in a woman is surely a most grievous evil. To the non-compromiser, the "scarlet woman" is a symbol of the lowest depth of vice, and no condemnation is too severe for her. But, on two occasions, Jesus dismissed the erring woman with His forgiveness (John VIII:11; Luke VII:47). In fact, the two utterances of Jesus--"he that is without sin among you, let him first cast a stone at her" (John VIII:7), and "why beholdest thou the mote that is in thy brother's eye, but considerest not the beam that is in thine own eye" (Matt. VII:2)--cut at the very root of the non-compromiser's position. For, in carrying on his crusade against his pet evil-doers, it would be fatal to be obliged to stop to answer objections that he may not be infallible in deciding what is evil, and that he may himself have habits considered by others as evil as the one he is denouncing. For instance, many a prominent non-compromiser among the clergy is living in comparative ease, if not luxury. When he reads the standard of living set by Jesus for the ministers of His Word (Matt. X:9; Mark VI:8; Luke IX:3; X:4; XXII:35), he must admit that he is every day compromising with the ideals of Jesus--with the evil of riches. Compromise is the rule of human life. Each individual, as he tries to follow the Socratic advice, "know thyself," finds that most of his actions are a compromise between his good impulses and his evil impulses. Few men are a Dr. Jekyll during the day and a Mr. Hyde during the night. Most men are partly Jekyls and partly Hydes all the time. As the individual makes his way in business and society, he learns more and more every day, if he has common sense, the wisdom and advisability of compromise. He that is always bent on "having his own way" will usually find that his way does not go far, and results in unhappiness for himself and others. Happy marriages are founded on a compromise of individual tastes, habits and opinions. Parents win and retain the affection of their children, not by imposing on them their own inflexible laws of right and wrong, but by modifying these laws to meet the different tastes, habits and opinions of the children. Success in business, in law, in politics, is usually associated with the faculty of making reasonable compromises. The wisest legislation is usually a compromise between conflicting interests and opinions. It is not too much to say that compromise is the corner stone of every modern democratic society. It is a necessary consequence of the "rule of the majority," since the majority of today may be the minority of tomorrow. To find a society of his taste, the non-compromiser should seek some negro tribe in darkest Africa, where the witch-doctors permit no deviations from the prescribed theological cult. Or, in matters political, he might find much to admire in the administrative system of Louis the XIVth, with his famous aphorism, "L'Etat, C'est Moi." In international affairs every treaty of peace, unless its terms are dictated by a strong power to a weak one, is a compromise between the opposing views of right and wrong held by the parties. Logically, the non-compromiser should be generally opposed to treaties, as involving necessarily some sacrifice of his principles of right to the demands of the other party. In the period from 1844 to 1846, we narrowly escaped war with England in the dispute over the boundary between ourselves and Canada, because a strong Jingo, non-compromising party started the popular cry of "Fifty-Four Forty or Fight." This class of thinkers would undoubtedly have opposed the celebrated compromises of Henry Clay, which, whatever might have been said against them at the time, have, in the light of history, the incalculable merit of having postponed the inevitable conflict between the North and the South, until the former had so grown in population and resources that it could preserve the unity of the nation. Considering the hard, and sometimes doubtful struggle, which the North went through in winning victory in the sixties, there can be little doubt that the result would have been two divided nations if the issues between the two sections had been submitted to the arbitrament of arms in 1820, in 1832, or even in 1850. As the intolerance of the non-compromisers will lead some of them to oppose treaties of peace, so the same quality in others will lead them to make nuisances of themselves in war. During the Great War, the nations, especially England and the United States, had considerable trouble with the "conscientious objector," who is really a non-compromiser under a different name. Supposing him to be honest in his opinions (as some of them were), the logic of his position was unanswerable from the view-point of the non-compromiser. War is unquestionably a great evil, and most obnoxious to the doctrines of the Sermon on the Mount. If there is to be no compromise with evil, then a Christian magistrate has no warrant to compel the conscientious objector to go out and slaughter, or give his help, directly or indirectly, towards the slaughter of his fellow Christians. The true answer to this argument is, of course, obvious, although the magistrates, themselves infected with this pernicious, non-compromise doctrine, did not always make it. In this fallible, imperfect human life, it is often necessary to compromise with evil--that is, as between two evils, to choose the less. Jesus both preached and practiced the doctrine of choosing the less evil, even in the extreme case of war. For He urged the spreading of His Gospel, although He foresaw that it would divide father from son and bring "fire" and a "sword" upon earth (Matt. X:34; Mark XIII:8; Luke XII:49). Now, in the case of this war, the vast majority of the nation has decided that it is a less evil to go to war than to be enslaved by Germany. So, war it is to be. But it is unjust--an evil of the greatest magnitude--that a few individuals should reap all the benefits of preserving the nation from German slavery, without bearing the corresponding burdens. Consequently, the conscientious objectors must either submit to the decision of the majority or seek some other country, following the example of the Puritans, Huguenots and other "conscientious objectors" of past times. It is apparent that if the door is once opened to allow people to shirk the civil duties imposed upon them by the society in which they live, the exemption cannot be limited to the case of war alone on the ground of their conscientious convictions. In the Supreme Court records of one of our States (possibly in several), there will be found a case where a man and woman (apparently respectable and generally law-abiding citizens) suffered a criminal conviction, because they had "conscientious objections" to legalizing their union by a conventional marriage ceremony. It is easy to imagine a man having conscientious objections to jury duty--the condemning men to death or imprisonment, or the transferring of property from one to another on account of the "technicalities" of the law. Or, why should a man not have conscientious objections to paying his taxes if they are to be used, in part at least, for a purpose which he considers evil? Evidently the field for evasion is a large one, and the only protection for society is to rigidly insist that the "conscientious objector," whether the case in hand be war or something else, either submit himself to the will of the majority or seek some other country more congenial to his peculiar ideas. At the risk of repetition, we will collect again some of the utterances of Jesus which seem irreconcilable with the narrow, intolerant ideas of the non-compromisers and the sacro-sancts: Judge not, that ye be not judged; he that is without sin among you, let him first cast a stone at her; how wilt thou say to thy brother, let me pull the mote out of thine eye, and, behold, a beam is in thine own eye; blessed are the merciful, for they shall obtain mercy; blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called the children of God; whosoever, therefore, shall humble himself as this little child, the same is greatest in the kingdom of heaven; joy shall be in heaven over one sinner that repenteth, more than over ninety and nine just persons, which need no repentance; on these two commandments hang all the law and the prophets, viz., Love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, soul and mind, and love thy neighbor as thyself. HYPOCRISY OR TRUTH Hypocrisy did not die with the Pharisees. To an observer of modern life, it might seem as if it has as rank and luxuriant growth today as in the time of Jesus. The modern Christian must apparently keep up the hypocrisy that he is always following Jesus, when, as a matter of fact, he is every day making compromises with Jesus' ideals, in some instances deviating widely from His teachings, and, in others, going diametrically against them. The question is, if, in these points of divergence, it is not better to speak the plain truth than to indulge in the hypocrisy of "following Jesus." For instance, take the case of divorce laws. Jesus explicitly condemned all divorces, except possibly on the ground of adultery. His language is so definite, repeated in all three of the Synoptics, that no quibbling over words or casuistry of logic can escape the result. Consequently, when a Christian state authorizes divorce for desertion, cruelty, drunkenness, etc., it is not following Jesus, but going directly contrary to His laws. In this matter the Roman Catholics are the orthodox Christians and most of the Protestants are heterodox. The point here made has nothing to do with the expediency of these divorce laws. The conditions of human life have so vastly changed--it is quite possible that Jesus, speaking today, might lay down much less stringent rules on this subject than He did two thousand years ago. The important fact is that we have here an undeniable instance of Christians, not only making a compromise with the acknowledged evil of divorce, but also completely ignoring the views of Jesus in making the compromise. Those who condone, or tacitly approve, these divorce laws (as do the great majority of the Protestants in the United States) should certainly be slow, in the matter of other evils, to urge "no compromise with evil," or bring forward some utterances of Jesus as the final argument on the subject. Let them first consider the beam in their own eye. It would probably surprise the professed follower of Jesus in present times to realize in just how many matters he is not, in fact, following Jesus. It may be well to enumerate a few of these important matters. This is not done in a spirit of criticizing the weakness and shortcomings of Christians, but because some of the questions involved vitally affect the present and future welfare of society. In the discussion of these questions the name and authority of Jesus are frequently invoked, and very justly so. For, even those who do not concede His parentage by the Holy Ghost, admire and revere Him as the Greatest Teacher. His word or example on one side of a question is not lightly to be disregarded. But, if it is found that, in some matters, the followers of Jesus do compromise with, diverge from, or directly contradict Jesus' teachings, then the ultimate query, becomes, not whether Jesus said yes or no to the question in hand, but, conceding that He said yes or no, Is there sufficient justification for departing from His teaching in this matter, as has been done in other important matters? Without noticing individual short-comings, sins of omission, etc., which may be left to the individual conscience and its God, we will take up only questions of wide import, affecting the present and future welfare of societies and nations. Nor will we enter into the field of theological disputation over conflicting or ambiguous texts, but will cite no instance where Jesus has not made His position so clear that there can be no dispute over it. The following are instances where modern Christian communities compromise with, diverge from, or go directly opposite to the teachings of Jesus. (a) Wars between two Christian nations where each invokes the assistance of Jesus in the slaughtering of its enemies, and the victor thanks Jesus for its success in the blood-thirsty game. (b) The substitution of the first day of the week for the seventh, as the Sabbath day. (c) Divorces (at least for any cause except adultery). (d) Public prayers and long prayers. (e) Public fasting. (f) Sunday Blue Laws. (g) Prohibition as against Temperance. (h) Creeds, articles of religion, pomp and ceremony in church services, and other observances, which Jesus included in the word "sacrifice," as opposed to "mercy." (a) WAR It is unnecessary to waste words in proving that war (at least between two Christian nations) is utterly irreconcilable with the Sermon on the Mount. But, as has been shown, it may, in any given case, be the less of two evils, and therefore, justifiable, as a compromise. As to a defensive war against a Moslem, Oriental or other infidel invasion, which seeks to uproot the Christian faith and subjugate a Christian nation, Jesus has apparently given His sanction to such a war (Matt. X:34, 35, 36; Luke XII:51, 52, 53). It might, perhaps, even be argued that this sanction covered an offensive war, the purpose of which was to establish Christianity among an infidel people. But, beyond this, some wars must be justifiable, as the less of two evils, under Jesus' sane practice of compromising with evil. If the independence (the life) of a nation is attacked, there is no warrant in the four Gospels for supposing that Jesus would advise a policy of passive non-resistance. Just as when the life of the individual, or the life or honor of his mother, sister, or daughter are threatened by some beast in human form, he is justified in resistance, although the taking of human life results. A standard of ethics countenancing such a surrender of the primary instincts of self-preservation might be suited to a race of spineless invertebrates, but could never be accepted by human beings, who are the evolutionary product of countless ages of a struggle for existence. But, conceding that some wars may be justifiable, the general rule holds good that wars are un-Christian. The exception must be established beyond a reasonable doubt. As between two Christian nations, the one attacked can usually plead self-defense in at least partial justification, but the aggressor must always have a difficult case to maintain before the judgment seat of Jesus. Looking back over the wars of the United States, there are few that would stand the acid test of Jesus' judgment. The war of the Revolution was due, in the last analysis, to the fact that there were a large number of prominent men in the colonies determined on independence at any cost. If war was a necessary means to attain that end, these leaders were for war, without shilly-shallying over the moral justification for the conflict. The men of that generation were rather fond of attitudinizing, and were prone to the use of high-sounding phrases like "no taxation without representation," "give me liberty or give me death," etc. The Declaration of Independence starts out with one of those phrases--"All men are created equal, and endowed with inalienable Rights to Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness." This was at that time such a palpable untruth and hypocrisy, that one wonders if our forefathers had no sense of humor. Of course, to be true, the sentence should have been added, "except certain persons of African descent, whom we hold and propose to hold as slaves."[56] Stripping the grievances of the colonists of their heated and declamatory rhetoric, their real sufferings under the misrule of Great Britain were far less than those of the Jews under the Romans, when Jesus said, "Render unto Cæsar the things that are Cæsar's." Many of the foremost statesmen in England supported the justness of the colonists' claims, and most of the obnoxious taxes were repealed before the Declaration of Independence. With time and patience the difficulties between the two countries could probably have been adjusted without war, as was the case with Canada, except for the underlying desire of the Americans for independence. To avoid misunderstanding, it should be added, that, before the bar of Nature--under the laws of the struggle for existence and survival of the fittest--the colonies were fully justified in taking up arms when they did. The pigheaded obstinacy of George III in insisting on his "prerogatives," and the blind stupidity of his ministers in urging measures of little value to England, but irritating to the colonies, wounding their pride and making them apprehensive of future, more serious encroachments on their liberties, furnished ample warrant for ceasing longer to turn the other cheek. Furthermore, before Nature's forum, the plea that the end justifies the means, is always of controlling force. History proves that the independence of the United States was sure to come sooner or later, and that it was better for both countries and for the world that the two nations should be under separate governments, and each work out its own destiny. The war of 1812 was, before the bar of Jesus, without any excuse, and, like the Crimean war, was futile of results. The main questions at issue between the United States and England, and about which the war started, were not even mentioned in the final treaty of peace. The American grievances were real enough, but a very moderate exercise of Christian forbearance on England's part would have avoided any necessity of war. These grievances, bad as they were, had been endured by the United States for some twelve years, and a delay of some two years more would have brought a natural end to them with the fall of Napoleon. This war should never have occurred between two Christian peoples, and is unjustified by any good results that followed from it. The war with Mexico in 1848 was simply an aggressive, land-grabbing, politicians' war, and will always be a blot on the Christianity of the United States. The lands of which Mexico was robbed were of course of great material value to the United States, but the less said about the justness of their acquisition the better. The question of the Civil War is complicated by the moral issue of the abolition of slavery, underlying the political issue of the right of the South to secede, which was the ostensible cause of the war. Slavery in the United States was an evil, both ethically and economically, and, as its abolition was a result of the war, that war is justifiable both in the court of Jesus and in that of Nature. But that result was an incident of the war, and the North would never have taken up arms on the simple issue of forcing the abolition of slavery on the South. On the ostensible, political issue which started the war--the right of the South to secede from the Union--there is room for much difference of opinion. Despite the technical and labored constitutional arguments of Von Holst and others, it is rather difficult to understand why, if the South believed that its happiness and prosperity were being imperiled by a further continuance of its union with the North, it had not the same right to break that union in 1861 as the colonies had the right to break their union with England in 1776. At the outbreak of the war, there were many in the North, beside Horace Greeley and Vallandingham, who thought it morally wrong to compel the South by force to remain in a union that had become hateful to it. A great writer on American history (Sumner) has said that whenever some geographical section of our country becomes saturated with the idea that its material interests are being sacrificed to the interests of other parts of the country, and it sees no hope of redress, it will begin to talk secession. It was true of New England at the time of the Hartford Convention. It was true of the South in 1820, 1831 and 1860. It was true of the Pacific States shortly after the Civil War, when they feared that Congress would not pass their desired Chinese Exclusion Acts. It would be difficult to justify the Spanish War of 1898, in the court of Jesus. It was mostly the work of the newspapers and politicians. Nine-tenths of the people of the United States were ignorant of suffering great grievances from Spain, until the Jingo journals demonstrated the fact to them. It is safe to say that this war would never have occurred if Spain had been a great naval power like Germany or Great Britain. The same assertion may be made of the war against Mexico in 1848. In studying the Jingo spirit which encourages wars, it will usually be found that the strength of this spirit varies in the inverse ratio to the supposed war-strength of the other party to the fight. Nations are much like school boys in this respect. It is quite probable that the war of 1812 would not have been brought on, except for the mistaken idea of Henry Clay and his hot-headed followers from the West that the United States could easily overrun Canada, and dictate peace to England in Halifax. Our participation in the Great War of 1914 was forced upon us, and was amply justifiable, both in the court of Jesus and in that of Nature. When Germany sunk our ships on the high seas, it struck at our independence as a nation, as vitally as though it had invaded and seized a part of our territory. On this issue we had waged war with England in 1812, and with the Algerine pirates in 1815. To have yielded this point to Germany would have been the first step toward international slavery. But the war itself was utterly unjustifiable. The fact that it could occur nearly 2,000 years after the death of Jesus, only illustrates how little actual progress the teachings of Jesus inculcating peace had made against the forces of nature urging nations into conflict with each other. To the impartial student of our history, it must be apparent that the Sermon on the Mount, so far as preventing wars, has been practically a dead letter. The condemnation of war has been superficial and insincere--nothing better than simple hypocrisy. It has been a service of the lip and not of the heart. The outside of the cup has been kept clean with a great parade of noble humanitarian sentiments, but the inside has been full of corruption. Except among some numerically small bodies like the Quakers and a few others, there has never been any strong living, effective public sentiment in the United States condemning wars as unrighteous, save as a last extremity. This is well illustrated by our two disputes with England over the Maine and Oregon boundaries. These boundary disputes were most intricate and complicated, the evidence was uncertain and conflicting, no question of principle was involved, and they were eminently matters to be settled by negotiation, mutual compromise, or arbitration. But in each case the Jingo clamor for war spread over the whole country. Polk's campaign cry in 1844 was, "Fifty-Four Forty or Fight." But there was no organized, effective opposition on the ground that this war would be unrighteous and un-Christian. If England had been as weak as Mexico, or if Tyler and Polk had been "fire-eaters," like Andrew Jackson, we would, beyond doubt, have had war in each case, although there could have been no justification for it in the court of Jesus. Every war, whether right or wrong, has been not merely condoned, but fully approved by the vast majority of the religious people of our country. Success in war has been the best stepping stone to the Presidency, as is shown by the instances of Jackson, Harrison, Taylor and Grant. There is no record of any Jingo statesman being punished by his constituents for precipitating the United States into unnecessary and unrighteous wars, and the supreme hypocrisy of all is, that, in every war, whether morally justifiable or not, the followers of Jesus crowd the churches to pray for His assistance, and to thank Him for victory when won, as though He were sanctioning these infractions of His Sermon on the Mount. The late President Roosevelt has expressed his views on our wars, and he may certainly be taken as fairly representative of a large portion of the American people. He was a devout Christian, but singularly free from hypocrisy. He was given to "speakin' out in meetin'," on occasions with a frankness that was embarrassing to his followers, and even later to himself.[57] In his life of Thomas H. Benton, American Statesmen Series, page 261, he says, in treating of this boundary dispute with Canada: "The matter was sure to be decided in favor of the strongest; and, say what we will about the justice and right of the various claims, _the honest truth_ is, that the comparative _might_ of the different nations, and not the comparative _righteousness_ of their several causes, was the determining factor in the settlement. Mexico lost her northern provinces by no law of right, but simply by the law of the longest sword--the same law that gave India to England."[58] On page 262 he says: "It would be untrue to say that Nations have not at times proved themselves capable of acting with great disinterestedness and generosity towards other peoples; but such conduct is not very common at the best, and although it often may be desirable, _it certainly is not always so_. If the matter in dispute is of _great importance_, and if there is a _doubt_ as to which side is right, then the strongest party to the controversy is pretty sure to give itself the benefit of that doubt; and international morality will have to take tremendous strides in advance before this ceases to be the case."[59] On page 268 he says: "No foot of soil to which we had any title[60] in the Northwest should have been given up; we were the people who could use it best, and _we ought to have taken it all_. The prize was well worth winning, and would warrant a good deal of risk being run." On page 289, in speaking of the final compromise and settlement of the Oregon boundary dispute, he says: "Yet as there was no particular reason why we should show any generosity in our diplomatic dealings with England, it may well be questioned whether it would not have been better to have left things as they were until we could have taken all. Wars are, of course, as a rule to be avoided, but they are far better than certain kinds of peace. Every war in which we have been engaged, except the one with Mexico, has been justifiable in its origin, and each one, without any exception whatever, has left us better off, taking both moral[61] and material considerations into account, than we should have been if we had not waged it." These citations, reflecting, as they undoubtedly do, prevalent American sentiment in the past and present, establish the utter hypocrisy of any claim that the Sermon on the Mount has had any practical, effective power in determining the actions of our nation concerning wars, whether justifiable or not. (b) SUNDAY AND THE SABBATH It is uncertain just when Sunday (the first day of the week) began to be generally observed among Christians as a holy day. The early Gentile converts were naturally averse to all Jewish rites and ceremonies, including circumcision, Sabbath-day observances, etc. It would seem that, in St. Paul's time, more or less of them held the position that all days of the week were alike, and no one of them especially holy (Romans XIV:5, 6; Col. II:16, 17). But at least two or three centuries had elapsed after Jesus' death, before Sunday was established as a day holy to the Lord, and began to have attributed to it the sanctity with which the Jews surrounded their Mosaic Sabbath. Jesus never sanctioned the observance of the first day of the week as a holy day. No text can be cited from the Old Testament, or the four Gospels, that gives even color of authority to this observance. Sunday is a purely human institution, established by the Christians of the first five centuries, to suit their own convenience, or satisfy their anti-Jewish prejudices. As a Biblical festival, it is no more sacred than Monday or Tuesday, or any other day. This matter is not commented on because of its practical importance, since it would now be inadvisable to change our legal day of rest to correspond with the Biblical Sabbath. But it affords a fair illustration of the prevalent cant and hypocrisy of the day. How frequently do the modern Pharisees denounce the man, who, for instance, goes fishing or hunting on Sunday, instead of going to church, as a contemner of Jesus, a violator of God's holy laws, etc., when in fact they have not the slightest authority from Jesus to do so. Would it not be well for them to consider the beam in their own eye? On this point, the Seventh-day Baptists and others like them are the consistent followers of Jesus, and not the Roman Catholics and the great bulk of the Protestants. (c) THE HYPOCRISY OF DIVORCE Under the Mosaic law a husband, dissatisfied with his wife, could "write her a bill of a divorcement" if he had found "some uncleanness in her" (Deut. XXIV:1; Matt. XIX:7). According to Matthew, Jesus condemned divorce except for the cause of "fornication" (Matt. V:32; XIX:9). According to Mark and Luke, He condemned divorce for any cause (Mark X:11; Luke XVI:18). All the States of our Union, except New York and South Carolina, authorize divorce on other grounds than adultery. In New York divorces are granted only on the ground of adultery, and in South Carolina no divorces are granted. (World's Almanac, 1920, pp. 369-371.) In 1916, there were 1,040,778 marriages and 112,036 divorces in the United States, of which about 11 per cent were on the ground of "unfaithful." (World's Almanac, 1920, pp. 151-152.) But the marriages of the Roman Catholics, about 1-7 of our population (World's Almanac, p. 484), should fairly be excluded, since divorce is practically non-existent among them. This would leave 890,000 marriages to 112,000 divorces. There was then, in 1916, something more than one divorce to every ten marriages among our total population, or, excluding Roman Catholics, something more than one divorce to every eight marriages. In the face of these figures, it must be conceded that this prohibition of Jesus has become practically a dead letter among the Protestant Christians of the United States. To the innocent party to a divorce, little, if any, stigma attaches either in business, social or religious circles, and nothing but a temporary condemnation is visited on the guilty party. The plain truth is, that divorce has become a matter of everyday life, regrettable but not sinful, and that, on this point, the followers of Jesus (excepting the Roman Catholics) have simply substituted their ideas of right and wrong for His. It should be added again, to avoid misunderstanding, that it is not the intention hereby to condemn our present divorce laws. On the contrary, it is quite probable that, if Jesus were legislating for the complex societies of today, instead of for the comparatively simpler civilization of His day, He would materially modify His stringent views on divorce, in a sane concession to the weakness and frailty of human nature. Certainly, to one who has seen many ill-mated couples seeking relief in the divorce courts, and subsequently making happy marriages, to the mutual benefit of themselves, their children, their friends and society in general, divorce laws cannot seem all evil. The children, if there are any, are the main factor to be considered, and no conditions of life are likely to be much worse for them than to be brought up by two mutually unloving, unsympathetic parents, and, as usually happens, in an atmosphere of continual bickering and quarreling. (d) THE HYPOCRISY OF PRAYER This subject has already been treated under Note 22, _supra_, page 23, and it has been shown that Jesus clearly condemned public prayers, long prayers and frequent prayers (Matt. VI: 5, 8). The evils of the prayer-habit (as a public ceremony) are many and obvious. (1) It is a useless waste of time and energy that had better be expended on works of mercy. God already knows what things we need, and will grant them, if advisable, without prayer (Matt. VI:8). For instance, how much time has been spent by the human race in praying for things which subsequent events proved were, or would have been, injurious instead of beneficial? How many there are, who, in looking back over their lives, can see that the realization of one of their (at the time) dearest wishes turned out later to be the most unfortunate thing that ever happened to them. (2) It encourages the formation of a low and unworthy conception of God as a being to be propitiated and placated, like the deities of barbarous peoples. Insensibly the idea grows that the more frequent and the more zealous the prayers, the more likely they are to be granted. An instance of this will be found in the custom started during the Great War of every one on the streets and everywhere, praying exactly at noon for the success of our armies. The idea underlying this was apparently that of "a long pull, a strong pull, and a pull all together," although the latter requirement was hardly fulfilled, since the prayers in New York were several hours old before those in San Francisco were begun. Nothing could be imagined much more inconsistent with Jesus' regulations on the subject of prayer. Furthermore, the prayer-habit begets a sickening tone of servility in the worshipper, coupled with the ascription to the Deity of an equally sickening love of adulation. In many prayer meetings the speakers seem to vie with each other in seeking terms of humility and self abasement for themselves (miserable worms being rather a favorite) and the most exaggerated titles of honor for the Deity. One would think they were a lot of grovelling slaves, prostrating themselves before the throne of some barbaric despot. Take the "Te Deum," which is a prayer in the form of a hymn. Can it be supposed that the fulsome adulation with which it is filled can be pleasing to the God of the universe? And yet, why is it sung, except on that supposition? What respect would we have for an earthly father who delighted in having his children assemble every morning, and chant their praises of his goodness, his excellence, his power, etc.? And yet should not the ideal of the heavenly Father be higher than that of the earthly father? (3) The prayer-habit tends to emasculate the moral strength of its devotees. It is much easier to pray to God for help and, so to speak, shift the responsibility on Him, than to work out one's own troubles by one-self. There is an old saying--Pray, but with thy hand on the plough. Too much praying tends towards neglect of the plough, or, to use Cromwell's phrase, the keeping one's powder dry. (4) Another evil is that it tends to encourage a self-righteousness on the part of its devotees (Luke XVIII:11). When prayer is regarded as a duty, the sequel to a prayer-meeting is a feeling of satisfaction in duty well performed. God has not only been well pleased by a display of humility on the part of His worshippers, but has also been intelligently advised on a variety of subjects, about which He may have been in uncertainty. Compare the prayer meeting of today with one according to Jesus' precepts. There would be no long prayers (Matt. XXIII:14; Luke XX:47). The meeting would open with the Lord's Prayer. Then, as each one thought over his various sins of omission and commission, and repented of them, he would arise and say, "God be merciful to me, a sinner" (Luke XVIII:13). The peace and silent meditation of such a gathering would tend to produce the humble and contrite heart, which is the offering pleasing to God. (5) But the worst evil, as pointed out by Jesus, is that of substituting a false standard of righteousness, words for acts, sacrifice for mercy (Matt. XII:7). When prayers are regarded as a duty and their performance a meritorious act, their devotees are quite apt to become like the Pharisees, who paid "tithe of mint, anise and cummin," but neglected "judgment, mercy and faith" (Matt. XXIII:23). The average, easy-going Christian can without difficulty square his account with God through numerous prayers, or even rest easy in his conscience with a slight balance in his favor. But it must be almost impossible for the believer in, and faithful adherent of, prayer-meetings to rise to the sublime conception of the Almighty, voiced not only by Jesus, but by the later prophets of the Old Testament. "Bring no more vain oblations (prayers or fasting): incense (prayers and fasting) is an abomination to me. The new moons and Sabbaths (ceremonial church services), the calling of assemblies (prayer-meetings), I cannot away with; it is iniquity, even the solemn meeting. Your new moons and your appointed feasts, my soul hateth; they are a trouble unto me; I am weary to bear them." "Learn to _do_ well; seek judgment, relieve the oppressed, judge the fatherless, plead for the widow" (Isaiah I:13, 14, 17). "And what doth the Lord require of thee, but to do justly and love mercy, and to walk humbly with thy God" (Micah VI:8). (e) THE HYPOCRISY OF FASTING This subject also, has already been discussed under note 20, _supra_, but for convenience, reference is again made to the passages in which Jesus condemns public fasting, or fasting as a ceremony (Matt. VI:16, 17, 18; Matt. IX:14; Mark II:18; Luke V:33; Luke X:7). Nearly everything which has been said under the last subhead concerning public prayers applies with equal force to ceremonial fasting, and need not be repeated here. (f) SUNDAY BLUE LAWS Assuming there is to be ascribed to the modern Sunday the same sanctity as a holy day that should be accorded to the Sabbath which Jesus observed, His views on the proper observance of the day are summed up in the one sentence: "The Sabbath was made for man and not man for the Sabbath" (Mark II:27). The basic idea of the old Puritan Sunday was the direct opposite of that of Jesus. Following the old Mosaic law, which Jesus combatted, the Puritans planned their celebration of the day for the "honor and glory" of God, and not for the benefit of man. Conceiving this _God_, not as a loving Father, but as a stern, austere Judge, who, according to Jonathan Edwards, had reserved the bulk of mankind for burning, who demanded "sacrifice" and not "mercy," and was therefore to be propitiated and placated, the Puritan ministers succeeded, while they had the power, in imposing on their congregations a most atrocious travesty of the Sabbath of Jesus. Religious services were piled up like Pelion on Ossa, and every movement of the day was marked by gloom and austerity. No wonder that William Lloyd Garrison said of the observance of Sunday at a much later date: "The Sabbath, as now recognized and enforced, is one of the main pillars of priest-craft and superstition, and the stronghold of merely ceremonial religion." Jesus did not object to the Jewish observance of the Sabbath on the ground that it was too "lax" (to use a modern term), but on just the opposite ground--that certain of their restrictions on man's freedom of action on that day were unnecessary. But the Sabbath of that time, as the Jews celebrated it, and as, from all the accounts in the four Gospels, Jesus celebrated it, was a day of joyous rest and recreation, and in no sense a day of spiritual maceration. "The same character of cheerfulness, of happy rest from the toil and turmoil of the world's business; of quiet and peaceful return unto one's self; of joyous communion with friends and kindred over good cheer--in short, of mental and bodily relaxation and recreation that strengthens, braces, pacifies, and maketh the heart glad, while the sublime ideas which it symbolizes are recalled to the memory at every step and turn seems to have prevailed at all times down to our own, among the Jews." "Suffice it to reiterate that in every class, every age and every variety of Jews, from first to last, the Sabbath has been absolutely a day of joy and happiness, nay, of dancing, of singing, of eating and drinking, and of luxury." International Cyclopædia, Sabbath, Vol. XII, p. 857. This is the kind of a Sabbath which the Gospels picture Jesus as celebrating, attending feasts in the houses of His friends, walking in the fields with His disciples, or meeting with them in public places, and healing the sick when occasion offered (Matt. XII:1; Mark II:23; Luke VI:1; Luke XIV:1; John V:1, 2, 9; IX:1, 14). Hard as it may be for Anglo-Saxon prejudice to admit, yet it seems to be true, that the Spanish Sunday--mass in the morning and a bull-fight in the afternoon--is nearer than the Puritan Sunday to Jesus' ideas of the proper observance of the day, although He would probably approve, as little as we do, that particular form of amusement. There is at the present time a strong and perhaps growing tendency towards enacting Sunday Blue Laws. By this is meant legislation restricting man's freedom of action on that day, which is based, not on any benefit to the individual or society, but on the old Mosaic idea of the supposed sanctity of the day--that it is holy to the Lord and He will be pleased by a ceremonial observance of it, different from other days. Insofar as the professed followers of Jesus urge the enactment of such Blue Laws, it seems clear that they are not following Jesus, but going contrary to His precept and example. (g) TEMPERANCE vs. PROHIBITION There can be no possible doubt as to the position of Jesus on this question. At the outset of His prophetic career, He drew the line sharply between Himself and John the Baptist in this matter. John drank no wine and practiced fasting. Jesus drank wine and condemned ceremonial fasting. Each by word and example inculcated these different ideas on his respective followers (Matt. XI:18, 19; Luke V:33).[62] At the marriage in Cana, He furnishes wine for the guests when the supply runs out (John II:1, 2). In His instructions to His apostles He tells them to eat and _drink_ such things as are set before them (Luke X:7). He uses wine in the celebration of the Last Supper, and promises His apostles to drink with them of the "fruit of the vine" in heaven (Matt. XXVI:29; Mark XIV:25; Luke XXII:18, 30). When Mahomet appeared, he followed the example of John the Baptist, and prohibited the drinking of wine. Since his time, on two points the line has always been sharply drawn between the Gospel of Jesus and that of Mahomet. The orthodox Christian could eat pork and drink wine, while the orthodox Mohammedan could do neither. The majority of professed Christians have presumably supported the recent prohibition legislation in the United States. In so doing, they are not following Jesus, but going directly contrary to His precept and example. They are in effect saying that, on this point, Mahomet knew better than Jesus what was for the best good of the human race. (h) SACRIFICE vs. MERCY Under the term "sacrifice," Jesus included all ceremonial religious worship, and tried constantly to impress on His followers that this was not the offering pleasing to God, but, rather, deeds of mercy (Matt. IX:13; XXIII:23). Realizing how strong is the tendency in human nature to impute to itself righteousness on account of its "tithes of mint and anise and cummin," He carried His condemnation of ceremonies into the smallest details. This is well illustrated by His enjoining His apostles not to wash before eating (Matt. XV:1, 2 and 20; Luke XI:37, 38). As He states, His objection was not to washing in itself, but because the Pharisees had made a religious ceremony of it. Simplicity is the marked characteristic of all Jesus' acts of devotion. While it was His custom to preach in the synagogue on the Sabbath day, yet, so far as appears in the four Gospels, Matthew's Sermon on the Mount, Luke's Sermon on the Plain, the Lord's Prayer, and most of Jesus' important discourses were delivered, not in the synagogue and on the Sabbath day, but wherever time and place suited His convenience--from a ship, on a mountain, on a plain, in His own house, etc. (Matt. V:1; X:1; XII:2; XVIII:1; XXIII:1; XXIV:3; Mark IV:1; X:1; Luke V:3; VI:17; X:1; XI:1; XII:1; John III:2; IX:40; XII:22, 23; XIV; XV; XVI; XVII). To demonstrate how far modern Christianity has traveled from the ideas of Jesus, it is only necessary to attend some ceremonial service in an Episcopalian or Catholic Cathedral, or some protracted prayer meeting of one of the Evangelical denominations. Out of the fruitful field of Pauline theology, there sprang, even within a few centuries after the Crucifixion, a plentiful crop of the direst evils that have ever afflicted mankind--creeds and definitions of belief. Fortunately, disputatious theologians are now limited to the weapons of pen and ink, but in the Middle Ages oceans of blood were spilt over these religious quarrels. If we could suppose the Westminster Confession of Faith, or the Thirty-nine Articles, or the Augsburg Confession to be submitted to Jesus for His approval, it is easy to imagine the substance of His answer: "I don't know what all this stuff means. I do not understand your terms--pre-destination, fore-ordination, trans-substantiation, infant damnation, etc. There is nothing here that I ever preached. I have given you a simple standard of righteousness, which every one can understand and follow, viz., right living. Have you forgotten my saying, that 'all the law and the prophets were contained in the two commandments to 'Love the Lord thy God with all thy heart,' and to 'love thy neighbor as thyself' (Matt. XXII:37-40). These creeds of yours may be true, or partly true, or wholly false. But the important fact for you to remember is, that they are unnecessary to salvation--are non-essentials. If this sort of logomachy pleases you as an intellectual exercise, well and good, if it goes no further. But, beware that, in following this _ignis fatuus_, you do not neglect the only one main essential to God's favor--'to do justly and to love mercy, and to walk humbly with thy God.'" CONCLUSION The Great War has brought about a wondrous upheaval in the society of the world. Nearly every phase of mental and physical activity in man is in a process of transformation. Government, religion, labor, pleasure, business, finance, international relations--all are on a shifting basis, seeking readjustment to new ideas and new conditions. To cling to worn-out conceptions of life--to worn-out ideas and phrases is mere folly. These new problems can only be met and settled with a "_tabula rasa_." We must wipe out the old prejudices, the old accepted canons, and above all the old hypocrisies and cant. If Christianity is to be a living, efficient force in the coming readjustment, it must cleanse itself of some of these old barnacles of hypocrisy now clinging to it. Not that hypocrisy will be less prevalent under the new regime than under the old. Human nature will remain essentially the same, but it will demand new forms of hypocrisy. The specious, shallow reasoning of the charlatan, the fulsome adulation and extravagant promises of the demagogue, and other forms of humbuggery will still attract their thousands. Patient merit will still suffer its many spurns from the unworthy. But the followers of Jesus, if they will throw overboard their useless ecclesiastical and theological lumber, and return to the simple teachings and example of the Great Teacher, are sure to win. The first and most important matter is to get rid of the hypocrisy of war. War is the most direful menace to the happiness and prosperity of mankind and, notwithstanding the bitter lessons of the Great War, little progress has been made towards averting it in the future. And no permanent progress in that direction will be made until the Christian peoples of the world reject, root and branch, such views of national wars as are expressed by the late President Roosevelt in the quotations from his works already given (see (a) War, _supra_). The underlying principle of this war philosophy is the same as that of the modern Germans, Treitschke, Nietzsche and Bernhardi, except that they express themselves with more brutal frankness. It was preached long ago by Machiavelli, Francis Bacon, Hobbes, Eichte, Hegel and others. It is in substance that the State, although all its component units are sincere followers of Jesus, should not be governed by any moral laws in its dealings with other States. The State can do no wrong. It should pursue its ends with utter, callous selfishness, and its only law is that might makes right. President Roosevelt has been quoted, because, in his views, he unquestionably voiced the sentiments of the great majority of past and present Americans. If this be true, should we not look for the beam in our own eye, before we criticize Germany for starting the Great War? She was simply applying the law that might makes right, except that she underestimated the might of the enemies she was arraying against herself. If she had been successful (as she probably would have been except for the unexpected valor and self-sacrifice of the Belgians), would she have been any worse sinner (barring some barbarous details of her warfare) than the United States with its condonation and approval of the Mexican and Spanish wars? Both of these were wars of aggression against weaker nations, and the Mexican war, at least, is admitted on all hands to have been morally unjustifiable, even by such stalwart Americans as President Roosevelt. More than a hundred years ago, a distinguished admiral of the United States Navy is reported to have said: "Our country! In her intercourse with foreign nations may she always be in the right; but our country, right or wrong." Now, this is a high-sounding phrase and is a great refuge for Jingo politicians when they have precipitated the country into an unrighteous war. But before the bar of Jesus it is the veriest clap-trap. The sincere follower of Jesus should insist that we be sure we are right in the first instance, and, if it is discovered that we have been misled into a by-way of wrong and injustice, that we get back at once to the straight and narrow way of right and justice. Our churches must denounce these Rooseveltian doctrines early and late, as a perversion of Jesus' laws. They must insist that opposition to wars becomes a service of the heart and not of the lip. They must mould us into a nation of sincere "conscientious objectors," condemning all wars as un-Christian, judging every aggressive war as _prima facie_ unjustifiable, and insisting that the advocates of any war prove the justness of their cause beyond a reasonable doubt. Let our politicians and leaders understand that if they plunge us into an unjust war, they are to be punished, and not rewarded by the Presidency, as was Roosevelt after the Spanish war, and Taylor after the Mexican war. How many of our wars would have lacked advocates, if they had been obliged to plead their cause under the principles of the Sermon on the Mount? As long as the people of the United States are animated by, and their conduct based on, the war philosophy of Roosevelt, it is hard to see how any League of Nations could be anything but a farce--a mere "scrap of paper." On the other hand, if all the Christian nations were sincere, ardent "conscientious objectors," wars would be avoided without the need of any League of Nations. If the Christian people of Germany had been "conscientious objectors" in this sense, there would not have been a Great War. But unfortunately they were of a different faith, and according to German writers still cling to that faith, after all their bitter experiences. (Germany since the Revolution. Yale Review, Jan., 1921). Nor may we flatter ourselves that we are free from the same views. For instance, there is apparently, at the present time (as there was before the Spanish war) a Jingo junto of politicians and newspapers who seize every opportunity to stir up prejudice and hostility against Japan, although it has always acted towards us as a peace-loving, neighborly nation. If it were as vulnerable to our attack as Mexico or Spain, these Hotspurs might quite likely drag us into a war, but the uncertainty of the contest in this case must give them pause. Another field for church action is in working towards making Sunday like the Sabbath of Jesus' time--a day of joyous relaxation and recreation, but always remembering that deeds of mercy and the promotion of the happiness of others, are to feature the day, as the offering acceptable to God. One of the marked features of the time is the growing spirit of unrest and discontent among the mass of the people. This spirit of unrest manifests itself, in part, by an increasing appetite for amusement. While this outlet for people's uneasiness may perhaps not be of the highest, it is much preferable to others, to which their discontent might turn. The churches should recognize this present need of man, realize the truth of Jesus saying that the Sabbath was made for man, oppose all new Sunday Blue Laws, and seek the repeal of those now existing. Instead of putting the ban of the church on all Sunday amusements, it should encourage such harmless recreations as it can well sanction under the example of Jesus. There should be meetings in the churches, as in the synagogue in Jesus' time, but as an incident, and not the chief end, of the day. In the matter of temperance vs. prohibition, a great Christian nation has, for the first time in history, recently inaugurated the experiment of a general prohibition law. What the results of this policy may be, remains an uncertain question for the future to decide. Certain it is that the Anglo-Saxon race has reached its present stage of progress and civilization under a regime of practically unrestricted use of alcoholic drinks. Of the eminent names in its history--in government, war, literature, arts, sciences, industrial work and invention--the percentage of those who all their lives have been consistent abstainers from liquor must be exceedingly small. The prohibitionist will say that all this progress has been made in spite of the evils of drink. But that can only be proved by generations of experience under prohibition laws. The other hypothesis is, _prima facie_, equally tenable, that this progress has been due in part to the stimulus which the temperate use of liquor undoubtedly does, at least temporarily, give to the physical and mental activity of man. The thirteen centuries of experience of the followers of Mahomet demonstrate that prohibition does not of itself produce great men, or general virtue, progress or prosperity. Theoretically the success of prohibition is handicapped by the fact that it is opposed to the evolutionary processes of nature. The basic idea of prohibition is to improve man by removing the cause of evil. For no one can deny that excess of drinking is an evil, just as is excess of eating, of fasting, of prayer, or any other form of human activity. Even excess of charity may be an evil, if it results in impoverishing one's family. But nature works on the contrary idea. It develops its highest types by exposing them to evil, and teaching them to conquer it. Take the matter of climate, for instance. _A priori_ one might have reasoned that a mild, equable climate, like that of the South Sea Islands, where the means of subsistence are easily obtained, would be the best for the human race. It could plausibly be argued that man would have more time and energy for his intellectual development if he were not absorbed in a continuous, laborious struggle for his physical existence. But experience has shown that just this contest with the extremes of heat and cold--this continual battle for subsistence under uncongenial conditions--has produced not only the most efficient workers in material progress, but also the highest types of intellectual development. Whether the prohibition theory of wrapping men in lamb's wool, instead of putting them out to fight the battle of life, will not produce more evil than good, is at least uncertain. It may be that, after some time of experimenting, men may come back to the idea that Jesus was right in thinking that temperance is better for the human race than prohibition. Furthermore, prohibition, besides being opposed both to the laws of Jesus and the laws of nature, has the essential weakness, as a remedy for intemperance, that it attacks the means or rather one of the means, of intemperance, and not the cause--the _causa efficiens_, as the logicians would say. The Anglo-Saxons have for centuries been meat-eaters and liquor-drinkers. What end they would have attained on a diet of vegetables and cold water, we can only guess, but all science is wrong if it would not have been some end quite different. Now, this appetite for stimulants--the growth of centuries--is not to be eradicated by prohibiting the use of alcoholic drinks, any more than the appetite for fornication can be eradicated by the suppression of houses of prostitution. In spite of all the prohibition laws in the world, the appetite for stimulants will continue to exist in the Anglo-Saxon race, and will seek its gratification in one way, if not in another. Whether these substitutes may not be worse in the end than alcohol, remains to be seen. Suppose, for instance, that accustomed liquor-drinkers should now substitute, as their stimulant, large quantities of strong tea or coffee, or, possibly, some concentrated product of one or the other of those plants. Probably nine-tenths of our medical authorities would agree that the change would be, generally speaking, undoubtedly for the worse. It is to be observed that never in the United States has there been made any general systematic effort towards temperance, such as is now being made towards prohibition. No greater hypocrisy has ever been worked off on the American people than that under the name of "Temperance." Societies have labeled themselves with that name, orators and prominent leaders have paraded under that name, when, in fact, it was a mere subterfuge, and the bearers of it were really prohibitionists. Probably no one who has ever worked for real temperance measures in any of our large cities but would testify that his work has been seriously hampered by the entire lack of interest, if not by the actual hostility, of these so-called temperance reformers and societies. In fact, many of them would make no scruple in openly avowing that they were opposed to any practical temperance measure, because it would retard the coming prohibition. With the hearty support of the prohibitionists, there is no reason today why scientific temperance measures should not be put in force throughout the United States, that would do away with at least seventy-five per cent of the evils of drunkenness. Our present Federal prohibition law is still on trial. It never would have been enacted unless we had been precipitated into the Great War. It has never been submitted to a plebiscite of the people. In one respect, it has done much evil in increasing the unrest and discontent of a large part of our population, who regard malt liquors as comparatively innocuous, and as necessary to their comfort and health, and who regard the deprivation of them as an invasion of their personal liberty. When Rome was threatened, as we are now, by a rising tide of unrest and discontent, the rulers of that day advised "_panem et circenses_"--food and amusement. Many of the thinkers of today neglect this sage, old maxim in depriving the people of their beer, in urging more stringent Sunday Blue Laws, and, generally, in restricting or prohibiting popular amusements, on one pretext or the other. In reading some of the proposed restrictions on minors, one sometimes wonders how it is supposed that stalwart, young lads from sixteen to twenty-one are to spend their evenings. They most assuredly will not spend them at home reading the Bible. In the future consideration of temperance vs. prohibition, it will be well for the followers of Jesus to weigh maturely His position on the question. His precept and example are not lightly to be disregarded, especially where, as here, they harmonize with the laws of nature, instead of, as in the case of war, being opposed to them. If all hypocrisy were eliminated, and the non-compromisers and sacro-sancts kept out of the discussion, there is no reason why the opposing forces of temperance and prohibition could not arrive at a compromise, which would reduce the evil of drunkenness to a minimum, and, at the same time, not rob life of the joy and good cheer that comes from a temperate enjoyment of the "fruit of the vine." If it is to be a part of the heavenly life (Matt. XXVI:29; Mark XIV:25; Luke XXII:30), let it be also a part of the earthly life. In the matters of prayer, fasting and ceremonial worship, the churches must make radical changes in their practice, if they are to win back their influence over the masses of the people--an influence which, it is generally admitted, has been on the wane during the past few decades. The contrast is altogether too glaring between the simple form of worship, practiced and preached by Jesus, and that of most of our modern religious denominations. The luxury of modern living is a favorite subject of invective by essayists and philosophical writers. But it is little wonder that the layman runs to this extreme, when he has before him the example set by many of the successors of Jesus' apostles--popes, bishops, cardinals, ministers of wealthy parishes, etc. And, in saying this, the fact is not overlooked that many ministers of the Gospel are worthy, self-denying, conscientious followers of Jesus in these matters, but the exceptions are too numerous. The conduct of a class is usually judged by that of its most prominent representatives. As to creeds, theological disputes and sectarian differences, the common people are more and more acting on the lines of Pope's couplet: "_For modes of faith let graceless zealots fight; His can't be wrong, whose life is in the right. In faith and hope the world will disagree; But all mankind's concern is charity._" _After the death of Mr. Atwater it developed that he had instructed the Trust Company having his affairs in charge to make money gifts to about one hundred of his friends._ _A few of those so remembered have published the accompanying book for distribution among Mr. Atwater's intimate acquaintances. The text is that of a pamphlet which he published just before his death._ _Inside this leaflet are reproduced copies of a letter to the Trust Company regarding the gifts and a memorandum, found in his desk, as to the disposition of his remains._ Minneapolis, Minn. Sept. 1/15 Minneapolis Trust Company, 115 South Fifth Street, City. Dear Sirs:-- In distributing the property which will come to you under my will, I wish you to exercise a reasonable discretion, since conditions may be quite different at the time of my death from what they are now. I very likely have overlooked some of my old friends who should be remembered, and in such case I should wish you to make the matter right as though they were included in my list. In case I should die after sickness of some duration, the people who have taken care of me in this sickness should be also remembered. In case there should be any deficiency of property to fill these bequests, I should prefer that the deficiency should be taken out of the larger amounts to friends who do not really need the money, rather then to reduce all of the bequests pro rata. Under present conditions there should be a surplus of several thousand dollars. This you might hold for some time and if any of my friends came to actual want, you could use it for their benefit or, if not used for that purpose, you could give it to some hospital or asylum. If you deem it advisable, you may make explanation that the varying amounts of these legacies are not to be taken as indicating the degree of my regard for recipients, since I have considered to a considerable extent the financial condition of my friends. To some of them any amount of money I could leave would be of no account pecuniarily, while in case of others it might be of some real help; I have also given my girl friends largely the advantage in amounts. I will keep a duplicate of this list, which will be among my papers, and may make changes in it from time to time, which will be of the same effect as though communicated to you. Yours very truly, John B. Atwater. MEMORANDUM I wish my remains to be cremated as quietly as possible, and do not care to have a minister hold any services. While I believe in God the Infinite not ourselves which is eternal I do not believe in any of the man-made Gods and Creeds which now exist and which in my opinion have entirely perverted the simple gospel taught by Christ. As I have no near relatives to be pained by the absence of conventional ceremonies, I might as well be consistent to the end. I have no particular use for flowers at a funeral, and would prefer, if my friends feel it necessary to express their regret in a tangible form, that they would send checks to some Hospital or Asylum in my memory for the amount they would otherwise spend on flowers. FOOTNOTES: [1] Renan says that "the family of David had, as it seems, been long extinct" before Joseph's birth. Life of Jesus, Chap. XV. [2] The first verse of Luke's Gospel says that "many" had written about Jesus' life before him. If, as seems probable, he had Matthew's narrative before him when he wrote his Gospel, it is an interesting query why he rejected in his line of ancestry Solomon--the most "glorious" of the Jewish rulers--in favor of the obscure and comparatively unknown Nathan. [3] It is somewhat curious that Matthew and Luke, who are the only two evangelists to attribute a divine ancestry to Jesus (see heading "Conception"), are the only two to give a genealogy of Joseph. From their point of view, it was entirely immaterial whether Joseph was a descendant of David or not. An attempt to trace Mary's lineage back to David would have had some materiality. On the other hand, it would seem that Mark and John, who ignore the paternity of the Holy Ghost, would have deemed it of high importance to establish, if possible, one of these genealogies. All Jewry at this time was teeming with expectation of the coming of a Messiah, and their prophets had marked Him out as one of the lineage of David (Psalms CXXXII:2; Jer. XXIII:4; John VII:42). No stronger argument could have been found to win the favor of the Jews to Jesus than the linking of His name with David. In Cadman's "Harmony of the Gospels," page 39, the author makes an ingenious attempt to "harmonize" these two lines of ancestry--the super-natural and the Davidian. This he does by making Luke's genealogy one of Mary, instead of Joseph. By this means the super-natural fatherhood of Jesus is saved and, at the same time He can claim, through His mother, a descent from David. The main trouble with this theory is that Cadman is obliged to make Heli the father of Mary, when Luke expressly says that Heli was the father of Joseph (Luke III:23). At another place, Luke speaks of _Joseph,_ not _Mary_, as being of the house of David (Luke II:4). [4] There was no God--the Holy Ghost--known to the Jews, and Joseph could not have understood the meaning of the term without some explanation. [5] It is to be noted that Matthew does not explain why the angel changed the name in the prophecy--Immanuel--to that of Jesus. [6] Apparently the Angel must have told Mary His name. [7] Cadman, in the work already referred to, page 37, "harmonizes" these two variant accounts of the angelic announcements by giving Matthew's version in his text, and simply referring to Luke's account in a note. [8] From Luke's narrative it does not appear that Joseph had any doubts as to Jesus being his child, or, if he did, how these doubts were removed. [9] The story of the miraculous conception of Jesus would be thrown out of any impartial court upon the evidence of the four Gospels alone. (a) The two narratives of Matthew and Luke contradict each other on several important details, as is shown above. This discredits each of them as a reliable, accurate authority on this point. (b) This story is entirely omitted from the narratives of our two first-hand authorities--Mark and John. Now, it is unthinkable that the authors of these two Gospels, if they knew of this story and believed it to be true, would not have recorded so important a fact in the life of Jesus. Consequently, they either did not know of the story or, knowing it, did not believe it to be true. Either hypothesis is equally fatal to the credit of the story. If they, writing shortly after Jesus' death and, presumably, investigating all sources of information about His prophetic career--probably personally interviewing those persons then living who had seen, heard and known Jesus most intimately--had heard nothing of this story, then it must have been such an obscure legend, buried in the inner consciousness of so few people, as to be unworthy of serious consideration as a fact of history. If, on the other hand, these writers knew of the story, but, after investigation of the abundant sources of information at their command, rejected it as untrue, what warrant have subsequent historians, not possessing their special means of information, to claim that their decision was wrong? (c) The story of Jesus' supernatural paternity is most effectually discredited by the fact that no such claim on His behalf was advanced by, nor was the story known to, those nearest to Him during His lifetime. His nearest friends and neighbors, who had been in daily intercourse with Him at Nazareth for thirty years, had no suspicion of such a claim being made on His behalf, even some time after He had begun his preaching. "Is not this the carpenter's son? Is not His mother called Mary? And His brethren James and Joseph and Simon and Judas?" (Matt. XIII:55; Mark VI:3.) (See also Matt. XII:47.) Still later, the multitudes who came to hear Him knew nothing of such a claim. "Is not this Jesus, the son of Joseph, whose father and mother we know?" (John VI:42). Luke himself says that Jesus "was supposed" to be the son of Joseph (Luke III:23). There is, in fact, no evidence in the four Gospels to show that, during Jesus' lifetime, there was, at any time or place or by any person, a public claim made that He was not as much the son of Joseph, in the natural course of events, as He was the son of Mary. (d) _Jesus in His lifetime never denied the paternity of Joseph._ On one occasion, in the synagogue at Nazareth, when He had been preaching and the people "wondered" at His "gracious words," "they said, Is not this Joseph's son?" And He said unto them, among other things, "No prophet is accepted in his own country" (Luke IV:22, 23). That is, the people were loath to accept Jesus' teachings because of His lowly birth. But Jesus, instead of claiming a divine parentage, impliedly affirms the fatherhood of Joseph. On another occasion He is challenged as to His paternity, and does not deny that He is the son of Joseph (John VI:42). If He had believed that the Holy Ghost was His father, then these two utterances would have been a _suppressio veri_--the equivalent of a falsehood--of which we cannot think Him guilty. While Jesus never applies to Himself the title of "Son of David," yet His claim to this lineage must have been widely circulated, since He is given this title not only by the Jews (Matt. IX:27; XII:23; XX:30; XXI:9, 15; Mark X:47; XI:10; Luke I:32; XVIII:38), but also by the Gentiles (Matt. XV:22). His silence and failure to object, when so addressed, certainly constitutes a tacit approval of this description of Himself. But He could only be a descendant of David by reason of the fact that Joseph was His father. Undoubtedly Matthew and Luke inserted in their narratives these two genealogies of Joseph to prove a direct descent of Jesus from David through the paternity of Joseph. The Cadman theory of tracing a descent from David through Mary was not known to the evangelists (Matt. I:16; Luke II:4). In His meetings with his family, while He seems rather cool and indifferent to them, there is no intimation that His relationship to them is not the ordinary one of son and brother (Matt. XII:47; Mark III:31; Luke VIII:19, 20; XI:28; John II:1, 12). Jesus never refers to the Holy Ghost as His father, and, on four occasions only, calls Himself the "Son of God" (John III:16-18; V:20; IX:35; XI:4). None of the events in connection with which the term is used by John, are related in either of the three other Gospels. But this term would convey to His hearers no other significance than that with which they were familiar from the Old Testament, where it is applied to beings inferior to God (Gen. VI:2; Job I:6; II:1; XXXVIII:7; Ps. LXXXII:6; 2 Sam. VII:14). But this is very far from the attribute ascribed to Jesus through the miraculous conception, of being the equal of, or one with, God. Jesus Himself refers to others as being the "children of God" (Luke XX:36; Matt. V:45), and He speaks constantly of God being the "Father" of His hearers (Matt. V:16, 45; VI:1, 6, 14; XVIII:14 _et passim_). Apparently He makes no distinction between this "fatherhood," as related to others, and as related to Himself. For instance, He tells Mary to go to His disciples and say unto them, "I ascend unto my Father, and _your_ Father and to _my_ God and _your_ God" (John XX:17). Jesus' favorite appellation for Himself is "the Son of _Man_." He uses this name constantly throughout the four Gospels, and uniformly, except in the four instances cited from John. In speaking of the most solemn and important events of His career, He prefers this name to "the Son of God," or any other. "Of him, also, shall the _Son of Man_ be ashamed, when He cometh in the glory of His Father with the holy angels" (Mark VIII:38; XIII:26; Luke IX:26). In passages like these, it seems necessary to eliminate the words "of man," if they are to harmonize with the theory of the paternity of the Holy Ghost. Again, on His trial, when the high priest "adjures" Him: "Tell us whether Thou be the Christ, the Son of God," Jesus follows His usual noncommittal answer, "Thou hast said," with the statement: "Hereafter shall ye see the _Son of Man_ sitting on the right hand of power, and coming in the clouds of heaven (Matt. XXVI:64; Luke XXII:69; Mark XIV:62; John VIII:28; XII:23, 34, 35). (e) Finally, to close all argument on this point, there are the many express statements of Jesus to the effect that He was not the same as, or the equal of, God (Matt. XIX:17; XX:23; Mark X:18, 40; Luke XVIII:19; John XIV:28; XVII:3). [10] Evidently Elisabeth never told John of this visit of Mary, since John says of his first meeting with Jesus that "I knew Him not," until he saw "the Spirit descending from heaven like a dove, and it abode upon Him" (John I:31-33; see also Matt. XI:3; Luke VII:19). [11] Unfortunate as it may be to lose the beautiful story of the birth at Bethlehem, with its poetic imagery of the manger, the visit of the "wise men," and the greeting of the shepherds, the evidence of the four Gospels proves its untruth even more strongly than the story of the miraculous conception. (a) The contradictory details appearing in the two narratives discredit each as a reliable authority. Matthew has Jesus born in a house, greeted by "wise men of the East," and going to Egypt immediately after His birth, and remaining there until after Herod's death. Luke has Him born in a manger, greeted by shepherds, remaining in Bethlehem for several weeks, then going to Jerusalem, and from there _returning_ "into Galilee, to their own city Nazareth" (Luke II:39). His parents could not have been in Egypt, avoiding the wrath of Herod, because "they went to Jerusalem every year at the feast of the Passover" (Luke II:41). Herod's massacre of the innocents is, of course, unknown to Luke, because, according to him, no "flight of the holy family to Egypt" ever took place. This massacre is not mentioned in the four Gospels, except in this Chapter of Matthew, nor is it recorded by any profane historian of that time, like Josephus. Even supposing that Herod--a Roman tetrarch and not an independent despot--would have dared a wholesale slaughter of Roman subjects without express authority from Augustus Cæsar, yet so terrible an event would have left an indelible impression on the Jewish people. If it had occurred, connected as it was with the birth of Jesus, it is incredible that the other evangelists should have omitted all mention of it, as well as Josephus, who records the other cruelties of Herod. Bethlehem was some six miles south of Jerusalem, and Nazareth some sixty or seventy miles north of Jerusalem. Matthew does not explain why Joseph and Mary should have been in Bethlehem at this time, especially in view of her then approaching confinement. In fact, the inference from Matthew's narrative would be, that they were residents of Bethlehem at this time. But the unvarying testimony of all the Gospels, except in this one passage, is that Galilee was the native country of both Joseph and Mary, and that their home, after her marriage, was at Nazareth. Luke states this explicitly (Luke I:26), and Matthew himself, in every other passage but this, speaks of Jesus as coming from Nazareth, and asserts that Galilee was "his own country" (Matt. XIII:54; XXI:11; XXVI:71). Luke, who recognizes Nazareth as the native city of Joseph, explains his presence in Bethlehem on the theory that he, being of the house of David, came to Bethlehem to be enrolled under the census taken by Quirinius, pursuant to a decree of Cæsar Augustus (Luke II:1). But the authorities generally agree that this census did not extend to the tetrarchies, like Judæa, and that it was taken at least ten years after the birth of Jesus (Renan, Life of Jesus, Chap. II). Besides, it is taxing one's credulity to the utmost to suppose that the Roman officers would have allowed a citizen of Nazareth to enroll himself in an insignificant village, more than sixty miles distant, on the ground that some problematical ancestor had been anointed with oil in that place a thousand years before (1 Sam. XVI:13). As to the contradictory accounts of Matthew and Luke concerning Jesus' movements immediately after His birth, Cadman in his "Harmony of the Gospels" pp. 4, 45, 48, "harmonizes" them by printing each of them without comment, as though both could be true. (b) The silence of Mark and John as to the birth at Bethlehem is even more significant than in the matter of the miraculous conception. There were two points most essential for Jesus and His followers to establish in order to convince the Jews that He was truly their expected Messiah: (1) that He was of the "house of David"; (2) that He "came" from Bethlehem. The Old Testament prophecies were explicit on these two points (Jer. XXIII:5; Micah V:2; Ps. CXXXII:11). This was the general expectancy among the Jews at the time of Jesus' birth (Matt. II:5, 6; XXII:42; Luke I:32). "Hath not the Scripture said that Christ cometh of the seed of David, and out of the town of Bethlehem, where David was?" (John VII:42). With such importance attaching to a birth at Bethlehem, the argument is irresistible that Mark and John, in not mentioning it, either did not know of the story, or, knowing it, did not believe it to be true. Either hypothesis is equally fatal to the credibility of the story. It is further to be noted that, while the claim of Jesus' paternity by the Holy Ghost, if publicly asserted, might have stirred up some scandal among the good people of Nazareth, it could not have been absolutely disproved. But, at the time the Gospels were written, it was comparatively easy to absolutely prove whether Jesus was born at Nazareth or at Bethlehem, more than sixty miles distant. (c) The claim was never publicly made that He was born at Bethlehem, notwithstanding the great support which that fact, if true, would have given to His cause. To His friends and neighbors of thirty years' standing at Nazareth, and to the "multitudes" in general, He was known only as "Jesus of Nazareth" (Mark VI:1-4; Matt. XXI:11; XXVI:71; Mark XIV:67, 70; Luke IV:16, 22; XXII:59; XXIII:6; John VII:41, 42; XVIII:5, 7, 8; XX:19). (d) Neither Jesus nor His apostles ever put forth this claim, even _when the objection was made that He could not be the Messiah, because He came from Nazareth_. The evidence on this point is, of course, mostly negative, consisting in an entire absence in the four Gospels of any reference to His birth at Bethlehem, except the first account given in Matthew and Luke. Thereafter it is as though it had never occurred, for anything that the Gospels have to say about it. But in two or three instances the question was directly raised. Philip, one of the apostles, finds Nathaniel and says to him: "We have found Him, of whom Moses, in the law and the prophets, did write, _Jesus of Nazareth, the son of Joseph_. Nathaniel's reply is: "Can there any good thing come out of Nazareth?" The only answer which Philip makes is: "Come and see" (John I:45, 46). On another occasion, Jesus' preaching so impressed His hearers that many of them said: Of a truth this is the Prophet. Others said, This is the Christ. But some said, Shall Christ come out of Galilee? Hath not the Scripture said that Christ cometh of the seed of David, and out of the town of Bethlehem, where David was? (John VII:40, 41, 42). In both these instances the obvious answer to the objection made would have been, that Jesus was born at Bethlehem, if that had been a fact. Again, on the evening of His arrest, Jesus twice affirms that He is "Jesus of Nazareth" (John XVIII:5, 8). It would seem that, in that solemn moment of approaching death, Jesus would have asserted His Messianic claim to a birth at Bethlehem, if it had been a fact. (See also Mark XVI:6; Luke XXIII:6, 7; XXIV:19; John XIX:19). [12] Luke says that Joseph and Mary were "amazed," and, when he told them that He must be about His Father's business, "they understood not the saying which He spoke unto them" (Luke II:50). Apparently their knowledge of His miraculous conception, and all the predictions of angels, wise men, shepherds, Simeon, Anna and Elisabeth had produced little, if any, effect on their minds. [13] It is an interesting query why all four evangelists give such full and precise details of this ceremony. Neither John nor Jesus seems to have attached much importance to it. Only a short time after it occurred, John had forgotten it, for, while in prison (Matt. XI:2; Mark VI:17), he sent some of his disciples to inquire of Jesus, "Art Thou He that should come or do we look for another?" (Matt. XI:2-6; Luke VII:19-23). Jesus never mentions His baptism or His then recognition by John, as giving credence to His claims, although He speaks of him and his mission as His forerunner (Matt. XI:7-13; Luke VII:24-29). When He appeals to John as a witness to the truth of His messianic claims, He does not refer to this baptismal ceremony, but relies on John's statements to messengers sent to Him (John V:32, 33; III:25-36). Baptism, as it developed into a religious rite after Jesus' death--the first step towards admission into the membership of a church--was unknown to the Jews and to Jesus Himself (Kitto's Cyclopædia of Bib. Lit., pp. 282-290). John seems to have given it a temporary popularity, but its practice among the Jews ceased with his death. Jesus showed as little interest in it as in other rites and ceremonies. Only one of the Gospels mentions baptism by Jesus' disciples, and that allusion is very indefinite (John III:22; IV:1). But it is explicitly added "though Jesus Himself baptized not" (John IV:2). The strongest evidence on this point is Jesus' failure to enjoin the practice of this rite on His followers. Three of the Gospels give quite fully Jesus' instructions to the apostles and disciples on sending them out in the world to preach, and not one word is said about baptism (Matt. X; Mark VI:7-13; Luke IX:1-6). Probably the evangelists felt the need (more than Jesus Himself) of fortifying the latter's cause with the ægis of John's popularity. At this time the Jews were filled with expectations of the coming of some ruler (Elias, Christ, the Messiah, "he who shall come," etc.), who should establish an earthly kingdom and give them victory over the heathen. John's preaching appealed to this feeling and won to him great numbers of adherents, who remained faithful to him even in prison (Matt. III:5; XIV:5; Mark I:5; XI:32; Luke III:3). To identify Jesus with this expectant one, of whom John preached, was to win at once to Jesus' cause all of John's great following. [14] It is to be noted that the Epistle of James is directed "to the twelve tribes which are scattered abroad" (James I:1), and contains no allusion whatever to the Gentiles. There is some dispute whether the author of this epistle, who was bishop of Jerusalem for many years, was the brother or cousin-german of Jesus, or the brother of John, "the beloved disciple." There is no doubt, however, that he was an intimate associate of Jesus during His life-time, and, presumably, a much more accurate authority on His views than Paul or others who had never seen Jesus or heard Him speak. [15] There may be urged, against this view of Jesus' conception of His mission, certain passages occurring in the different accounts of the resurrection. Matthew relates that, on the appearance of Jesus on a mountain in _Galilee_ to the eleven apostles, where "some doubted" whether it were He or not, Jesus said, "Go ye, therefore, and teach all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost" (Matt. XXVIII:19). Mark relates that, on Jesus' appearance in _Jerusalem_ "unto the eleven as they sat at meat," He said: "Go ye into all the world, and preach the Gospel to every creature. He that believeth and is baptized, shall be saved; but he that believeth not shall be damned" (Mark XVI:14, 15, 16). Luke relates that, when Jesus appeared in Jerusalem to the eleven, He told them that Christ was to suffer and rise the third day "that repentance and remission of sins should be preached in His name among all nations, beginning at Jerusalem" (Luke XXIV:47). According to John, who is by many regarded the most reliable authority on the events of Passion Week, and who describes the appearances of Jesus both at Jerusalem and on the sea-shore in Galilee, Jesus said nothing indicating any change in His views about preaching to the Gentiles or the importance of baptism. On the contrary, He three times says to Peter, "Feed my lambs" or "Feed my sheep" (John XXI:15, 16, 17). But His "sheep" were "the lost sheep of the house of Israel," with whom alone His mission lay (Matt. XV:24). The glaring contradictions on this point between Matthew, Mark and Luke make their evidence of little weight as against the clear and explicit utterances of Jesus, which these same evangelists have recorded in the earlier part of their Gospels. No two of them agree as to just what was said, or when it was said. The use by Matthew of the later formula of baptism--"in the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Ghost"--which apparently was never used by John the Baptist or Jesus' disciples, marks his passage with the strongest suspicion. The account of John is the only one consistent with the previous history of Jesus, and it is more than probable that these passages from Matthew, Mark and Luke were interpolated through the influence of Paul and his followers. [16] These solitary "retreats" for fasting, prayer and meditation to a desert, wilderness or mountain are common occurrences in the lives of religious teachers, prophets, saints, etc., of the Orient. They seem, however, somewhat foreign to the character of Jesus (Luke VII:33, 34; Matt. IX:14). This is the only formal fasting by Jesus mentioned in the four Gospels. Several times it is related that He went up into a mount, but He either did not go alone, or He spent only a short time,--a day or a night. In its location--a mountain--and its duration--forty days--this fast follows the Old Testament precedents of Moses, on Mount Sinai (Exod. XXXIV:28), and the prophet Elijah on Mount Horeb (I Kings XIX:8). The rather theatrical adjunct of the devil and his temptations may fall in the same category, as Matthew's massacre of the innocents and the flight to Egypt. It gives opportunity, however, to bring in several quotations from the Old Testament. It must be remembered that, as Jesus preached only to the Jews, so the Gospels (except possibly John), were written with the purpose of convincing the Jews of the truth of Jesus' claims to be their Messiah. The more their authors could connect Him with the sayings and predictions of the Old Testament, the stronger their case. Hence, with nearly every incident of Jesus' life, they cite some appropriate text of the Old Testament, usually with the addition, "that it might be fulfilled" or "as it was spoken by the prophet." In their zeal, it is possible that, in some cases, an incident was found to fit a text, rather than a text to fit an incident. [17] Apparently, after Jesus left Nazareth, He became domiciled at Capernaum (Mark II:1,15; Matt. IX:1). [18] The four Gospels use the term "disciples" without much distinction, as meaning either the apostles or the immediate, personal adherents of Jesus for the time being. [19] According to Mark this "feast" was in Jesus' house (Mark II:15; see Matt. IX:10). [20] This first discourse of Jesus stands unequaled in religious writings for its clearness, simplicity and freedom from dogmatic theology. To appreciate this, it is only necessary to cite some passages from John's Gospel, which in comparison seem mystic, turgid and ambiguous (John I:1-14; III:11-23; IV:50-59). There is scarcely a sentence in the Sermon on the Mount susceptible of a double meaning, or which a man of ordinary education cannot understand without the aid of a learned exegesis. Yet how hard it is for the poor human followers of Jesus to rise to its grand simplicity. Take, for instance, the subject of fasting. It seems almost impossible for the Christian, of ancient or modern times, to escape from the idea that, in mortifying the flesh, he is doing something pleasing to God. John the Baptist both fasted and enjoined fasting on his disciples. But Jesus neither fasted Himself, nor enjoined fasting on His disciples (Matt. IX:14; Mark II:18; Luke V:33; Matt. III:4; Luke VII:33-34). With His sane view of life, free of all fanaticism, He here, as always, inculcated temperance, condemning the excess of asceticism, as much as the excess of overindulgence in eating and drinking. While He does not prohibit fasting, He, in very plain language checks the enthusiasm of His disciples to make the public practice of fasting a mark of holiness. "Moreover, when ye fast, be not as the hypocrites of a sad countenance, for they disfigure their faces that they may appear to fast." "But thou, when thou fastest, anoint thine head and wash thy face. That thou appear not unto men to fast, but unto thy Father which is in secret" (Matt. VI:16, 17, 18). This seems so clear that he who runs may read, and how the Roman Catholic and Protestant Episcopal Churches make it square with their public celebration of the Lenten fast, for instance, is hard to understand. The "Fast Day" of New England would seem to come directly under Jesus' condemnation. [21] The Sermon on the Mount is probably composed of a number of utterances at different times and places, which have been compiled and put together in one discourse by the author of this Gospel. [22] The promulgation of the Lord's Prayer is one of the most significant events of Jesus' prophetic career. It illustrates both His conception of God, and, as a consequence, His dislike of all ceremonial worship. The persistent weakness of every religion is to gradually forget, or ignore, the spiritual unity of its supreme divinity with his human followers. Whatever may have been the conception of the Deity by the first great teacher, he soon comes to be regarded as a Being apart, like the deified monarchs of ancient times, and as one who can be pleased, or his wrath averted, by offerings and sacrifices. Practically all religions having their beginning from barbarous races are founded on sacrifices of animals, and usually of human beings. Even fairly well civilized nations are not offended by legends describing human sacrifices as being welcome to God. Examples of this are Abraham and Isaac among the Jews, Iphigenia at Aulis among the Greeks, and Curtius among the Romans. The ceremonies attending the rendition of these offerings and sacrifices form often the most important part of the religion, as is illustrated by the innumerable minute regulations contained in the Mosaic books of the Old Testament. But Jesus' conception of the Heavenly Father was essentially unique in ever realizing the spiritual unity existing between the Father in heaven and His Son Jesus and His other children on earth. Mark the difference between Moses and Jesus in the matter of divine communications. Moses' messages to the Jews are the results of direct and separate interviews with the Almighty. He sees Him in the bush, or in the fire, and hears Him from the clouds. But all this is unnecessary with Jesus. He and the Father are one, and when He speaks, the Father speaks through Him. In the beautiful words of Renan: "Jesus had no visions; God did not speak to Him as to one outside of Himself; God was in Him; He felt Himself with God, and He drew from His heart all He said of His Father. He lived in the bosom of God by constant communication with Him; he saw Him not, but he understood Him, without need of the thunder and the burning bush of Moses, of the revealing tempests of Job, of the oracle of the old Greek sages, of the familiar genius of Socrates, or of the angel Gabriel of Mahomet. The imagination and the hallucination of a St. Theresa, for example, are useless here. The intoxication of the Soufi, proclaiming himself identical with God, is also quite another thing. Jesus never once gave utterance to the sacrilegious idea that He was God. He believed Himself to be in direct communication with God; He believed Himself to be the Son of God. The highest consciousness of God which has existed in the bosom of humanity was that of Jesus." With this conception of God, the idea of offerings or sacrifices to please or placate Him becomes unthinkable. All He asks of His earthly children is that they lead a God-like life. Human nature, however, seems too weak to free itself from this superstition of a Supreme Being to be pleased and His wrath averted. But, as a nation becomes more civilized and spiritualized, the manifestation of this superstition takes on different forms. The smoking altars with their living victims disappear, and, in a measure, the material offerings of shields and other weapons, chariots, gold and silver vessels, jewels, etc. But their place is taken by rites and ceremonies, of which prayer is always foremost. The pilgrimages, votive offerings, masses, adoration of holy places, long prayers (especially for victory over our enemies), elaborate church ceremonials, public fastings, erection of expensive churches "to the glory of God," legacies to "pious uses," etc., of the present day are the legitimate successors of the "fat thighs" of the Greeks, and the Shew-bread of the Jews--offerings to win the favor of a possibly offended or indifferent Deity. We laugh at the "prayer-mill" of the Hindus, but the idea is the same as procuring better treatment for your departed soul by purchasing the performance of long "masses," if you have sufficient wealth. At the time of Jesus the Jewish religion, as moulded by the Pharisees, was dominated by the spirit of formalism. Attendance at the synagogue, public prayers and fasting, observance of minute Sabbatical and other regulations, were made of more importance than visiting the sick, helping the poor, succoring the widow and orphan, etc. But the essence of Jesus' religion was the living of an every-day godlike life, not the adherence to certain creeds or dogmas, or the performance of rites and ceremonies. In this formalism He recognized His most dangerous enemy. It was a deep-rooted evil and hard to eradicate. One of its inherent dangers is the easy cloak it lends to hypocrisy, and, like the poor, the Pecksniffs we will always have with us. Consequently we find Jesus early and late inveighing against the "long prayers" of the Pharisees and heathen, and the bitterest term He can apply to the Pharisees is "ye hypocrites." When He comes to instruct His disciples on the subject of prayer, it is quite probable that He would have interdicted it altogether, except for that sane temperance which was so fundamental an element of His character. He recognized the essential uselessness of prayer addressed to an all-good and all-wise Father, since He knows what is best for each person without being instructed, and from His great goodness will do what is best for each person without being asked. "For your Father knoweth what things ye have need of before ye ask Him" (Matt. VI:8). Jesus therefore carefully enjoins on His disciples that they shall not pray in the synagogue, but "when thou prayest, enter into thy closet, and when thou hast shut thy door, pray to the Father which is in secret" (Matt. VI:5, 6). He also cautions them against long prayers--"use not vain repetitions as the heathen do" (Matt. VI:7). He then gives them a short, simple prayer, as a model for their efforts. On this point of prayer Jesus makes Himself clear beyond any possibility of misunderstanding, as in the case of fasting, and with apparently as little effect on the modern Christian. The very term "prayer-meeting" would be anathema to Jesus, and, if He were enticed into one of these "meetings," He would assuredly think He was in the midst of His old enemies, the Pharisees. [23] The "Gadarene swine" were the subject of a once famous controversy between Huxley and Gladstone (Huxley. Some Controverted Questions. Chaps. XIV, XV). In the course of the wordy battle there occurs a delicious bit of humor which is worth preserving. Huxley starts out by saying that, for himself, he does not believe the miracle ever occurred, and then adds that he should consider that "the wanton destruction of other people's property is a misdemeanor of evil example." Gladstone comments on this that, after eighteen centuries of worship of Jesus, "it has been reserved to a scientific inquirer to discover that He was not better than a law-breaker and an evil-doer." Huxley objects to this accusation, because, as he expressly said he did not believe Jesus ever sent any devils into any swine, he can hardly be guilty of charging Jesus with this evil-doing. In his following article Gladstone states Huxley's position, does not withdraw his accusation, but, in a manner of apology, says: "The difference, _from his point of view_, is probably material, and I therefore regret that I overlooked it." [24] This miracle occurs in Luke before the healing of Jairus' daughter (Luke VIII:41). [25] The account of Luke's miracle is so vague as to be very unsatisfactory. The dead man is unnamed and unknown, neither his dwelling nor any of his relatives are identified, no one solicits Jesus to perform the miracle, but the bier is met casually on the street or country road, and none of the witnesses are named, as in the case of Jairus' daughter. The narrator of such an unprecedented event, as the raising of one from the dead, ought at least to furnish some means of identifying the resurrected person. It is small wonder that Matthew, Mark and John know nothing of this miracle. A "doubting Thomas" might explain all three of these resurrection miracles on the hypothesis of unexpert diagnosis of death, a trance, a cataleptic fit, or other form of suspended animation. This would not be possible in the case of Lazarus, if he had been buried in the ground without the provision of some means of respiration. But he was laid in a cave covered only by a stone, so that ample means of respiration are not excluded. But in the case of Lazarus, the most unexplainable matter is the silence of Matthew, Mark and Luke on the subject of this miracle. Lazarus and his two sisters were well known to Jesus and His disciples, and the sisters are mentioned by all three of the evangelists. Shortly after the miracle, Jesus comes to Bethany and "there they made Him a supper" (John XII:2), and Lazarus sat at the table and Martha served. "Then took Mary a pound of ointment of spikenard very costly and anointed the feet of Jesus and wiped His feet with her hair" (John XII:3). The disciples were apparently present, because Judas Iscariot objects to the waste of the ointment (John XII:4, 5, 6). Both Matthew and Mark relate this event as occurring in Bethany at the house of Simon the leper, except that the ointment is poured over Jesus' head, and neither the name of Mary or of Judas Iscariot is mentioned (Matt. XXVI:6-13; Mark XIV:3-9). Luke speaks of both Martha and Mary on the occasion when Jesus rebukes Martha for being "troubled about many things" (Luke X:38). The raising of Lazarus from the dead was not kept secret but was noised abroad, and was known to many of the Jews in Jerusalem and to the chief priests (John XI:45, 46; XII:9, 10, 11, 17, 18). Considering the notoriety of this miracle, the intimacy existing between Lazarus' family and Jesus and His disciples, the relation by all the evangelists of other incidents in Jesus' life in which Martha and Mary appear, it is hard to understand why Matthew, Mark and Luke have not a word to say of this, the most marvelous of all of Jesus' deeds. [26] Bethsaida is on the same (west) side of the sea of Galilee as Capernaum, and but a short distance from it, but this desert place was apparently across the sea, near the land of the Gergesenes (John VI:1, 17; Matt. XIV:22; Mark VI:32). Some claim that there was another Bethsaida on the east side of the sea of Galilee. [27] It may seem strange that these numerous miracles had so little effect in winning permanent adherents to Jesus' cause. The Jews at this time were, from all accounts, in a state of religious fermentation, expecting the immediate coming of a Messiah, looking for the signs and portents of that coming, ready and willing to welcome any miraculous happenings as proof that their hopes were about to be realized. Yet John the Baptist, who did no miracles (John X:41), had apparently at the time of his death a stronger following than Jesus at the time of His death. (Compare Matt. XIV:5; Mark XI:32; Luke XX:6, with Matt. XIII:57; XXVII:22; John VII:1; VIII:59; X:39; XI:53.) The earlier miracles attracted large crowds, but the evidence is abundant that, later, the miracles lost their effect, and in some cases, even aroused animosity. Thus Matthew says that Jesus, in the beginning of His prophetic career, "went about all Galilee," teaching and preaching and "healing all manner of sickness and all manner of disease among the people." "And there followed Him great multitudes of people from Galilee and from Decapolis and from Jerusalem and from Judæa and from beyond Jordan" (Matt. IV:23, 24, 25. See Mark III:7, 8). But, in Chap. XIII:53-58, he relates how Jesus, coming "into His own country" at a later date and preaching there, the people "were offended in Him." "But Jesus said unto them, A prophet is not without honor, save in his own country and in his own house. And He did not many mighty works there _because of their unbelief_." Mark says, "And He could there do no mighty work, save that He laid His hands upon a few sick folk and healed them. And He marvelled because of their unbelief" (Mark VI:5, 6). Luke tells how, after He had preached in the synagogue in His home town of Nazareth, "all they in the synagogue, when they heard these things, were filled with wrath, and rose up and thrust Him out of the city, and led Him unto the brow of the hill, whereon their city was built, that they might cast Him down headlong (Luke IV:28, 29). Immediately after Jesus had healed the man, or two men, in the country of the Gergesenes, Matthew, Mark and Luke agree that the "whole city," or the "whole multitude of the country of the Gadarenes round about," besought Him to depart out of their coasts (Matt. VIII:34; Mark V:17; Luke VIII:37). After Jesus had preached in Jerusalem and performed at least one miracle there (John V:5-9), the people were so incensed against Him that "He would not walk in Jewry (Judæa), because the Jews sought to kill Him" (John VII:1). Later He went secretly into Judæa on the occasion of the feast of the tabernacles (John VII:2, 10), and the people took "up stones to cast at Him, but Jesus hid Himself and went out of the temple, going through the midst of them and so passed by" (John VIII:59). Again, when He had restored sight to a blind man, they reviled this man and "cast him out" (John IX:7, 34). Again, when Jesus was at Jerusalem at the feast of the dedication (John X:22), "the Jews took up stones again to stone Him." "Therefore they sought again to take Him; but He escaped out of their hands" (John X:31, 39). As regards the raising of Lazarus from the dead, the Jews, instead of being favorably affected by that stupendous miracle, were apparently incensed by it. They plotted to put both Lazarus and Jesus to death (John XII:10), and "Jesus therefore walked no more openly among the Jews; but went thence unto a country near to the wilderness, into a city called Ephraim" (John XI:54). Finally, Jesus Himself bears witness both to His belief that miracles were proof of His messianic claims, and that His miracles had failed to give the support to His cause which He had expected. In one of His most bitter utterances, He denounces the cities of Galilee, because they would not believe in Him notwithstanding the many "mighty works" which He had performed in their midst. "Woe unto thee, Chorazin. Woe unto thee, Bethsaida." "But I say unto you, it shall be more tolerable for Tyre and Sidon at the day of judgment than for you." "And thou, Capernaum, which art exalted unto heaven, shalt be brought down to hell." "But I say unto you, that it shall be more tolerable for Tyre and Sidon at the day of judgment, than for you" (Matt. XI:20-24; Luke X:13-15). In more temperate language He bewails the coldness and hostility of Jerusalem. "How often would I have gathered thy children together even as a hen gathereth her chickens under her wings, and ye would not?" (Matt. XXIII:37; Luke XIII:34. See also Luke XIX:41, 42; Luke XI:31, 32). The reason why Jesus' miracles produced no lasting effect on the Jews has already been indicated. They expected their Messiah to show them miracles as proof of his claims. But this Messiah must be one of their own creation preaching the doctrines which they wished him to preach. All the miracles in the world would not have convinced them that Jesus was the true Messiah, so long as He offered them only a heavenly kingdom. On the other hand, if He had promised them an earthly kingdom, they would have acclaimed these same miracles which He did, as indubitable proofs of His Messiahship. In this respect they differ not at all from many modern professed followers of Jesus. They follow such parts of His teaching as happen to suit their own ideas or prejudices, and calmly ignore other parts, equally explicit and binding, which do not fit in with their scheme of life. (See Hypocrisy or Truth, _infra_.) The miracles and, even more, the apparent faith of Jesus in their evidentiary value, form serious stumbling blocks in the way of those who revere Jesus as the greatest "Son of Man"--unequaled in the simplicity and unselfishness of His character and in the sublimity of His teaching--but free from the tawdry tinsel of supernaturalism, which is the usual stock-in-trade of leaders of religious sects. Mohammedanism seems to be the only great religion which has resisted the temptation to ascribe to its founder, either divine parentage or the power to perform supernatural acts. The attribution to Jesus of the Holy Ghost as His father need cause no difficulty, by reason of the facts set out under sub-head "Conception," _supra_. But as regards the miracles, it is true that few of them have much scientific value as evidence of the intervention of supernatural powers in their occurrence. For instance, Matthew records nineteen specific miracles, of which only one is attested to by all the three other evangelists, five are attested to by one beside himself, twelve by two, and one by himself alone. Of the nineteen, five are events--stilling the tempest--walking on the waters, two feeding the multitude, and one the blasting of the unfortunate fig tree, which did not bear fruit out of season. Of the remaining fourteen, one is a lunatic, one has a withered hand, one is dumb, one is a leper, two have palsy, three are blind, one has fever, one an issue of blood, two are possessed of devils, and the ailment of Jairus' daughter is not specified. Without examining each in detail, it may be said generally that these accounts are very indefinite as to exact times and places, names of persons cured, or by friends or relatives, and other details, by which the story might be verified. From the insufficient data furnished, it would, for instance, have been almost impossible for a person, starting to investigate these miracles immediately after Jesus' death to have asserted that any particular miracle did not occur, although he could not find a single witness to any of them. Even the names of the disciples present are given only in a few instances. It is also to be regretted that practically all of the personal cures, as is the case with more modern miracle workers, fall within that class of afflictions where ignorance, suggestion, simulation, conscious or unconscious, etc., can so easily confuse the result. If some of these latter-day healers would only go to an old soldiers' home and supply some missing arms and legs, the "doubting Thomases" would be more ready to concede their possession of supernatural powers. But, notwithstanding all this, the four Gospels are so permeated with these miraculous doings that it would be almost denying them any credibility at all, to claim that Jesus and His apostles did not believe that He performed miracles, and that these miracles were proof of His claim to the Messiahship. It can only be said that Jesus, great as He was, could not entirely escape the influence of the times in which He lived. [28] Here again Jesus makes clear His antipathy to churchly ceremonies and pharisaical formalism. No ceremony marks the joining of His disciples. He says to them, "Follow me," and they leave everything and follow Him. No more is necessary to make them members of His band. So, no rite, no ceremony marks the choosing or appointing of the twelve apostles, or bishops, as they would now be called. There is no laying on of hands, no formal induction or installation into office, no clothing them in peculiar vestments, or sacerdotal robes, or other visible insignia of their office or rank. Nor are they given any authority or pre-eminence over their fellow disciples. Nothing could have been more foreign to Jesus' ideas than the establishment of a priestly hierarchy. The instructions as to their preaching are of the simplest--"the kingdom of heaven is at hand." No creeds, no theological dogmas are to be impressed on their hearers. But the necessity of their doing good works--healing the sick, etc.--is emphasized. With Jesus works always were of more value than words. The admonition to travel simply, without money or extra raiment, and to depend on the hospitality of the people among whom they came, reminds us of the practice of the itinerant missionaries of frontier days in our own country. Matthew's account is the only one containing the verse: "Think not that I am come to send peace on earth. I come not to send peace but a sword" (Matt. X:34). This has often been cited, warped from its context, as meaning that Jesus sanctioned war as a means of spreading His religion. But nothing is more contrary to the whole spirit of His teaching and many express utterances. When His disciples would have Him call down fire from heaven to consume those who would not receive Him, He "rebuked them" and said: "For the Son of Man is not come to destroy men's lives, but to save them" (Luke IX:56). In this chapter from Matthew, Jesus is predicting that the spread of His Gospel will set individual against individual (even in the same family), and finally nation against nation, and that, owing to the weakness of human nature, this would lead to individual contests and to national contests. Results well justified His prophecy. So long as the Christians were in the minority, they preached, and, to some extent, practiced the doctrines of the Sermon on the Mount. But when they became the majority, the sword and torch and the fires of the Inquisition were their favorite arguments in converting recalcitrant heathen. [29] Moderation was the keynote of Jesus' character. Excess in any direction was contrary to His principles. He had no sympathy with either the zealot or the ascetic. He condemned as well the faster and the prohibitionist as the glutton and the wine-bibber. He was most democratic in His daily intercourse with others. He dined one day with publicans and sinners, and the next with a Pharisee, notwithstanding His bitter antagonism to the Pharisees as a sect (Luke XI:37; XIV:1). This moderation shows itself in the charity of His judgments of others, as in the case of the woman taken in adultery (John VIII:3-11), the parable of the Prodigal Son (Luke XV:11). "Judge not that ye be not judged" (Matt. VII:1) and elsewhere. When He is asked to name the first great commandment, He does not choose any of the ten stringent provisions of the Old Testament, but expresses His ideas in the milder forms: To love God, and to love thy neighbor as thyself (Matt. XXII:36-40; Mark XII:28-31). [30] The prophets of the Old Testament had long before the birth of Jesus inveighed against the disposition among the Jews to magnify _acts of worship_--religious rites and ceremonies--as pleasing to God and indicative of holiness in the participant. "To what purpose is the multitude of your sacrifices unto me?--saith the Lord. I am full of the burnt offerings of rams, and the fat of fed beasts; and I delight not in the blood of bullocks, or of lambs, or of he goats." "Bring no more vain oblations; incense is an abomination unto me; the new moons and _Sabbaths_, the calling of assemblies; I cannot away with; it is iniquity, even _the solemn meeting_. Your new moons and your _appointed feasts_ my soul hateth; they are a trouble unto me; I am weary to bear them." "Learn to _do well_; seek judgment, relieve the oppressed, judge the fatherless, plead for the widow" (Isaiah I:11-17). "Will the Lord be pleased with thousands of rams, or with ten thousands of rivers of oil? Shall I give my first-born for my transgression, _the fruit of my body for the sin of my soul_? He hath showed thee, O man, what is good; and what doth the Lord require of thee, but to do justly, and to love mercy and to walk humbly with thy God" (Micah VI:7, 8). "For I desired mercy and not _sacrifice_; and the knowledge of God more than burnt offerings" (Hosea VI:6). But the Jews had not heeded the admonitions of their prophets, and, in the time of Jesus, their religion, under the dominating influence of those zealous laymen--the scribes and Pharisees--had become permeated with the dry-rot of formalism. Prayers, fastings, rites and ceremonies had become all important, like the "burnt offerings of bullocks," "the blood of bullocks," the "incense" and "vain oblations" of earlier days. "Woe unto you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites, for ye pay tithe of mint and anise and cummin and have omitted the weightier matters of the law, judgment, mercy and faith" (Matt. XXIII:23). Their conception of the Lord was that of the Mosaic times--a jealous Deity to be placated by sacrifices, and whose favor was to be won by external worship, and not by inward purity of heart. "Woe unto you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites, for ye make clean the outside of the cup and of the platter, but within they are full of extortion and excess. Thou blind Pharisee, cleanse first that which is within the cup and platter, that the outside of them may be clean also" (Matt. XXIII:25, 26). The simple, unceremonial religion which Jesus taught, a living force animating each act of one's daily life, nourished by secret prayers in one's chamber, manifesting itself by unobtrusive acts of mercy, not by public prayers, fastings and religious services, was the direct antipodes of the ceremonial formalism then dominant among the Jews. Jesus early recognized this antagonism, and lost no opportunity to combat this, the greatest obstacle to the spreading of His ideas. He can use no words too bitter in denouncing those whom He considers the corrupters of the true worship of God (Matt. XXIII; Mark XII:38-40; Luke XX:46, 47; XI:42-44). To persons deeply imbued with religious feeling, hypocrisy is the cardinal sin. "Ye hypocrites" is His constant term of reproach for the scribes and Pharisees. Now, the observance of the Sabbath was the keystone in the arch of formalism which the Pharisees had erected. They had filled the day with religious ceremonies. They had surrounded it with minute restrictions and prohibitions, so that even the healing of the sick on that day was considered by them unlawful. Probably their objection to the disciples picking and eating corn was not based so much on that fact, as on the iniquity of Jesus and His disciples taking a pleasant walk through the fields and country on the Sabbath. As Macaulay said of the Puritans, they hated bear baiting, not so much because it gave pain to the bear, as because it gave pleasure to the spectators. This Sabbath was to Jesus a travesty on the true worship of His Father, and met His instant and repeated condemnation. He intentionally and openly violated its laws, and challenged the Pharisees to defend their position. As in the case of prayer, He again defined His Father's attitude as caring nothing for these outward observances. "I will have mercy and not sacrifice" (Matt. XII:7). The weighty matters of the law are "judgment, mercy and faith" (Matt. XXIII:23). In the expressive language of the Old Testament His "soul hateth" their Sabbaths and appointed feasts and solemn assemblies. They were a "trouble" to Him and He was "weary to bear them." "When ye make many prayers, I will not hear" (Isaiah I:13, 14, 15). Jesus sums up His conception of the Sabbath in one of His pregnant sentences, "the Sabbath was made for man, and not man for the Sabbath" (Mark II:27; Luke VI:5). If Jesus were on earth today, He would make our Sunday a day of cheerful rest. Children would rejoice in it, learn to love it, instead of its being to them (more formerly than now) a day of penance and gloom, with their forced attendance on a distasteful Sunday school, to study creeds and catechisms, not suited to their immature years. Attendance at "church" would be a matter of minor importance, to be determined by each one for himself. The desire to worship could be satisfied without these public assemblies, for "where two or three are gathered together in my name, there am I in the midst of them" (Matt. XVIII:20). But the significant deliberation of the day, the only one important before God, would be the marking it out as the day especially for the doing of deeds of mercy. Much more righteous in the sight of the Lord would be the man who had spent the day in hunting, fishing or other innocent recreation, but yet had one good deed to his credit, than he who had spent the whole day in religious exercises, and given his "tithe of mint and anise and cummin," but had not helped, or comforted, or made happier a single fellow human being. Jesus would say with the poet: "_Count that day lost, whose low descending sun Views from thy hand, no worthy action done._" [31] Jesus had already told the disciples of His approaching death and resurrection (Matt. XVI:21, 22; Mark VIII:31; Luke IX:22). [32] Jesus probably spoke to His disciples in the veiled language so often used by Him, since it is clear that His disciples, down to the last days in Jerusalem, had not accepted the idea of His immediate bodily death. "But they understood not that saying and were afraid to ask Him" (Mark IX:32). "And they understood none of these things; and this saying was hid from them, neither knew they the things that were spoken" (Luke XVIII:34; see Matt. XXIV:3). It is probable that up to the hour of the Crucifixion many of the disciples still clung to the hope that Jesus would exert His miraculous powers to confound His enemies and establish an earthly kingdom. "They thought that the kingdom of God should immediately appear" (Luke XIX:11). They quarreled among themselves as to who should have precedence in this kingdom. "And there was also a strife among them, which of them should be accounted the greatest" (Luke XXII:24). [33] None of these multitudes seem to have been on hand a few days later to ask Jesus' release from Pilate (Matt. XXVII:15, 17, 22, 23). [34] This cleansing of the temple is related by John as one of Jesus' first acts, immediately after the marriage in Cana (John II:14-17). [35] There is a marked difference between these latest utterances of Jesus and His first preaching in the Sermon on the Mount. Then He was enthusiastic, filled with the hope of converting the Jews, and establishing His Father's spiritual kingdom on earth. Now He is disappointed, realizing that His death is near, that His religious teachings have been rejected by practically all of His people, and that He will leave behind Him a mere handful of followers, few, if any, of whom yet understand the true meaning of His religion. The spirit of the Sermon on the Mount is love for one another, kindness active in every-day life, charity for others' shortcomings, leniency in judging and punishing offenders. But His later sayings abound in bitter censure of the Pharisees and others who have thwarted His work, of denunciation of all evil-doers, of promises of reward to His followers, and of predictions of severe punishment for those who reject His teachings. Thus in the Sermon on the Mount He says: "Blessed are the merciful; for they shall obtain mercy" (Matt. V:7). "Blessed are the peace-makers; for they shall be called the children of God" (Matt. V:9). "Therefore, if thou bring thy gift to the altar, and there rememberest that thy brother hath ought against thee; leave there thy gift before the altar and go thy way; first be reconciled with thy brother, and then come and offer thy gift" (Matt. V:23, 24). "Agree with thine adversary quickly, while thou art in the way with him" (Matt. V:25). "But I say unto you, that ye resist not evil; but whosoever shall smite thee on thy right cheek, turn to him the other also" (Matt. V:39). "But I say unto you, love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you" (Matt. V:44). "But if ye forgive not men their trespasses, neither will your Father forgive your trespasses" (Matt. VI:15). "But seek ye first the kingdom of God and His righteousness; and all these things shall be added unto you" (Matt. VI:33). "Judge not, that ye be not judged" (Matt. VII:1). "Thou hypocrite, first cast out the beam out of thine own eye; and then shalt thou see clearly to cast out the mote of thy brother's eye" (Matt. VII:5). "Therefore, all things whatsoever ye would that men should do to you, do ye even so to them; for this _is the Law and the prophets_" (Matt:VII:12). As to those who heard His sayings and did them not, He speaks no stronger condemnation than to compare them to the foolish man who built his house on the sand (Matt. VII:24-27). Compare with these the following excerpts from His later preachings: "Verily I say unto you that the publicans and the harlots go into the kingdom of God before you" (Matt. XXI:31). "And whosoever shall fall on this stone shall be broken; but on whomsoever it shall fall, it will grind him to powder" (Matt. XXI:44). "Then said the king to the servants, Bind him hand and foot, and take him away, and cast him into outer darkness; there shall be weeping and gnashing of teeth. For many are called, but few are chosen" (Matt. XXII:13,14). "But woe unto you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites" (Matt. XXIII:13, 14, 15). "Ye fools and blind" (Matt. XXIII:17, 23, 24). "Ye are like unto whited sepulchres, which indeed appear beautiful outward, but are within full of dead men's bones, and of all uncleanness" (Matt. XXIII:27). "Ye serpents, ye generation of vipers, how can ye escape the damnation of hell?" (Matt. XXIII:33). "That upon you may come all the righteous blood shed upon the earth" (Matt. XXIII:35). "And woe unto them that are with child, and to them that give suck in those days" (Matt. XXIV:19). "Then shall two be in the field; the one shall be taken, and the other left" (Matt. XXIV:40). "And shall cut him asunder and appoint him his portion with the hypocrites; there shall be weeping and gnashing of teeth" (Matt. XXIV:51). "And cast ye the unprofitable servant into outer darkness; there shall be weeping and gnashing of teeth" (Matt. XXV:30). "Depart from me, ye cursed, into everlasting fire, prepared for the devil and his angels" (Matt. XXV:41). [36] It is impossible for one not versed in the subtleties of Jewish religious ceremonies to understand the references in the four Gospels to the feast of unleavened bread and of the Passover. They do not seem to correspond with the somewhat intricate ritual given in the Old Testament (Ex. XII:1-20). If the Crucifixion occurred in the year A.D. 33, as the authorities generally agree, then the feast of the Passover began on the evening of Friday, the day after this supper and the day of the Crucifixion. This agrees with John's statements (John XIII:1; XVIII:28; XIX:14-31). But the other three Gospels speak of the supper on Thursday, as being the eating of the Passover. [37] This strife is also given by Luke as of an earlier date (Luke IX:46). (See also Matt. XVIII:1; Mark IX:34; Mark X:35; Matt. XX:24). [38] Mark tells of a "certain young man" who followed Jesus, until he was driven away by the soldiers (Mark XIV:51, 52). He is not identified, and apparently appears only at this place in the four Gospels. [39] The motive of Judas in this transaction seems destined to remain an unsettled controversy. Was he simply a traitor, seeking to sell his Lord and Master for a price? Or was he a religious zealot, trying to force Jesus' hand? It has been already noted that the apostles, even at this late date, were expecting the immediate coming of Jesus' kingdom on earth and the installation of themselves into the chief offices of that kingdom (Luke XIX:11; XXII:24). Did Judas, in his supreme confidence in his Master's supernatural powers, feel convinced that, if once a contest were precipitated between the Pharisees and Jesus, the latter would exert those powers and utterly confound His enemies? The most inexplicable thing in the whole transaction is its utter futility, both on the side of Judas and of the Pharisees also. On other visits to Jerusalem, Jesus had kept His movements more or less secret (John VIII:59; XI:54). But on this last visit there was not the slightest attempt at concealment. His entry into Jerusalem was attended by a great multitude, shouting and acclaiming Him (Matt. XXI:1-10; Mark XI:1-10; Luke XIX:30-40). His cleansing of the temple was an open and public act (Matt. XXI:12-14; Mark XI:15; Luke XIX:45, 46). Every day He taught openly in the temple (Luke XIX:47; XXII:53). The chief priests, elders and Pharisees were present at His teachings and argued with Him (Matt. XXI:23; Mark XI:27; Luke XX:1). They had already employed spies to follow Jesus in His preaching and note any seditious or heretical utterances (Luke XX:20). Every night Jesus and His twelve apostles went out to Bethany, coming back to Jerusalem in the morning, and the movements of so numerous a company could not have been concealed (Matt. XXI:17, 18, 20). Jesus must have been well-known in Bethany, both because of His long friendship with the family of Lazarus, and because of the miracle of raising Lazarus from the dead (John XI:45; XII:9). While in Bethany, Jesus and the apostles were entertained publicly at a supper in Simon's house (John XII:2; Matt. XXVI:6). So far as an identification of Jesus was concerned, or any assistance in making His arrest, Judas' services were entirely useless to the Pharisees, and there was no occasion for spending money on him. The most conclusive evidence on this point is that of Jesus Himself. All three of the synoptics agree that Jesus protested against a multitude with their swords and staves coming out to take Him in the night-time, as though He were a thief or a fugitive from justice. As He says, "I sat daily with you teaching in the temple, and ye laid no hold on me" (Matt. XXVI:55; Mark XIV:49; Luke XXII:53). According to John, who is considered the most accurate of the evangelists on the events of this last week, Judas did not kiss Jesus or make any other identification of Him. On the approach of the band, Jesus comes forth and says, "Whom seek ye? They answered Him, Jesus of Nazareth. Jesus saith unto them, I am he. And Judas also, which betrayed Him, stood with them" (John XVIII:5). The Pharisees seem to have had some trouble in procuring the proof of Jesus' heretical sayings (Matt. XXII:15-16; Mark XII:13; Luke XI:54; Luke XX:20; Matt. XXVI:60). If Judas had offered to furnish this evidence, the bargain with the Pharisees would be understandable. As to the pecuniary side of the transaction, Matthew is the only one who states that a bargain was made for a definite sum of money. According to the account of Mark and Luke, Judas volunteered his services, and the Pharisees "promised to give him money." John does not mention any money paid or to be paid, although he is especially bitter against Judas (John VI:64, 70, 71; XII:6; XIII:2, 27). Now, Judas was the treasurer of the apostles' company and carried the bag (John XIII:29; XII:6). If avarice were his motive, it would seem strange that he would give up this post and the possibilities of peculation which it offered, for the small sum of money he would get from the Pharisees. Moreover, the fact that, immediately after the conviction of Jesus, Judas tendered back the money to the Pharisees, and, when they refused it, cast it down in the temple, and went out and hanged himself, tends strongly to support the theory that he was a misguided zealot (Matt. XXVII:3-6). Against this is the unanimous evidence of the Gospels that he was the betrayer of Jesus, and that Jesus recognized and branded him as such. [40] This gathering was presumably the Sanhedrim, the high council of the Jews. It had jurisdiction to try and sentence Jews charged with heresy--"corruptors," blasphemers of the temple, destroyers of the true worship, etc. It could not, however, execute a sentence of death (John XVIII:31). In such cases it was necessary that the sentence be confirmed by the Roman tetrarch, procurator, or other governor of the country, and the execution of the sentence be carried out by Roman soldiers. [41] This was a trial for heredoxy under the Jewish law upon two charges, one for blasphemy of the temple, the other for blasphemy of God. Either, if proved, would warrant a sentence of death. The first was very near the truth. The charge was, "I am able to destroy the temple of God, and to build it in three days." Jesus' exact words were, "Destroy this temple, and in three days I will raise it up" (John II:19). The Jews did not understand His hidden meaning that He meant the death of His body and its resurrection in three days (John II:20, 21). The other charge was in one sense true, for Jesus had spoken of Himself as the _Son_ of God. But He had not used these words in the sense attributed to Him by the Pharisees, that He was himself God, or the equal of God. But, coupled with His failure to deny these charges, they formed a sufficient legal basis, under the Jewish law, for His conviction and sentence. [42] The high priest evidently shifted his ground of attack when he brought Jesus before Pilate. The main charge here against Jesus was that He had claimed to be king of the Jews, something that had not appeared in the proceeding before the Sanhedrim. This was more of a political than a heretical crime, and one more likely to arouse the suspicion and hostility of the Romans. Jesus was entirely innocent of this crime, for He had never claimed for Himself an earthly kingdom. This, and the charges of heresy, which probably were also presented, did not make much impression on Pilate. He evidently did not think that Jesus had done anything deserving a sentence of death, and probably regarded the whole matter as one of those vexatious religious quarrels among the Jewish sectaries which were constantly arising to trouble the Roman governors of Jewry, and in which they had no interest or sympathy with either side of the controversy. But he found himself in a difficult position. This demand for Jesus' sentence was backed by all of official Jewishdom, and they presented His legal condemnation by the Sanhedrim. While Pilate was not absolutely bound to approve this sentence of the Sanhedrim, yet his refusal to do so would deeply offend the leaders of the Jewish people and quite possibly involve him in serious trouble with the authorities at Rome. Seeking a way out of this dilemma, he bethought himself of the custom of freeing a prisoner at the feast of the Passover. He tried to induce the multitude to demand the release of Jesus, and, if there had been any difference in opinion, would undoubtedly have declared the vote in favor of Jesus. But the people were unanimous in their demand for the release of Barabbas. Then, only, he consented to confirm Jesus' sentence, and attempted publicly to shift the moral responsibility for his act to the Jewish populace. [43] There seems to be some question as to whether Antipas was not governor at this time, instead of Herod (Matt. II:19). [44] This Annas (or Hanan) is supposed by some authorities to be the "power behind the throne," the chief instigator of the proceedings against Jesus. [45] Pilate evidently inflicted this punishment--milder than death--in the hope that it would pacify the Jews, and they would permit him to let Jesus escape the extreme penalty of crucifixion. [46] From this narrative it would seem that, for one night, the sepulchre was unsealed and unguarded. [47] It seems that it was a custom to give criminals this drink in order to, in a measure, stupefy them and lessen the pains of the crucifixion. [48] This was probably the usual custom, unless the criminal was too weak to bear the burden. [49] No two of these superscriptions on the cross exactly agree. [50] None of the other Gospels mention Jesus' mother or any of the apostles as being present at the Crucifixion, and all agree that the women stood "afar off." [51] These were precautions, probably usual, to ensure that the criminals were really dead. [52] These instructions are contrary to those given to His disciples in His life-time. He told them expressly not to go to the Gentiles (Matt. X:5) and said nothing about their baptizing either Jews or Gentiles. No time or definite place is assigned for this last appearance of Jesus. [53] Mark does not tell of any appearance of Jesus to the apostles in Galilee. [54] The name Cleopas does not appear in the list of the twelve apostles (Matt. X:2-4). [55] The story of the resurrection and ascension would have even less chance of acceptance by an impartial tribunal, than that of the miraculous conception, or of the birth at Bethlehem. The accounts in the four Gospels, together with that in the Acts, are such a hopeless mass of confusion and contradiction that scarcely a single fact can be extricated, on which they all agree. As to the time, the place, and the witnesses of the ascension, they are entirely at variance. Jesus had, in His lifetime, fixed Galilee as the place of meeting His apostles after His rising from the dead (Matt. XXVI:32; Mark XIV:28). So the angel, or the "young man," at the tomb tells the women that Jesus has gone into Galilee, where His disciples should see Him, "as He said unto you" (Matt. XXVIII:7; Mark XVI:7). Now, Matthew's account is the only one of the five originals which says anything about Jesus appearing to His disciples in Galilee. And, according to Matthew, this was the only time and place that He did appear to any one, except the two Marys (Matt. XXVIII:9, 10), and their statements were not believed by the apostles (Mark XVI:11; Luke XXIV:11). According to Matthew, at a time not specified, Jesus appeared to the eleven on a mountain in Galilee (Matt. XXVIII:16), "and when they saw Him, they worshipped Him; _but some doubted_" (Matt. XXVIII:17). Now, from this it is apparent: first, that Jesus did not appear in His natural, earthly form, for then the eleven would at once have recognized His identity; and, second, that we have no means of telling just how many of the eleven would have testified to this being an appearance of the true Jesus, since "some" doubted. John's original Gospel warrants appearances of Jesus, first, to Mary Magdalene, the other Mary not being with her (John XX:15, 16, 17); second, an appearance on Sunday evening to the apostles, except Thomas (John XX:19); third, an appearance eight days later to all the eleven apostles (John XX:26). Nothing is said about any ascension. John's Chapter XXI, which, as has been said, appears clearly to have been a later addition to the original Gospel, relates an appearance of Jesus in Galilee, which is materially different from that of Matthew. The appearance is not on a mountain, but on the shores of the sea of Tiberias, and, instead of the eleven apostles being present, there were, at most, only seven, including Nathaniel of Cana (John XXI:2). All of them have considerable trouble in recognizing Jesus (John XXI:4, 12). Nothing is said by Jesus about baptizing, or preaching to, the Gentiles, but, on the contrary, Jesus tells Peter to feed "my sheep," or "my lambs" (John XXI:15, 16, 17). Nothing is said about any ascension of Jesus into heaven. The Gospels of Mark and Luke, the original Gospel of John, and the Acts, all agree in fixing the after-death appearances and ascension of Jesus in Jerusalem or its neighborhood (Luke XXIV:50; Acts I:12). Apparently the apostles remained for some time in Jerusalem after the Crucifixion (possibly for forty days, Acts I:3; II:1), until they separated and "went forth and preached everywhere" (Mark XVI:20). In the Acts it is said that Jesus "commanded" them to remain in Jerusalem, until the gift of the Holy Ghost should be sent to them (Acts I:4). It is evident, in all these accounts, that the apostles had never understood, or had entirely forgotten, the predictions of Jesus in His lifetime that He would rise from the dead (Matt. XVI:21; XVII:23; XX:19; Mark VIII:31; IX:31; X:34; Luke IX:22; XVIII:33). They were not expecting any resurrection. They were not waiting at the tomb for it to occur, and, by the unanimous testimony of all the writers, they showed the greatest surprise and incredulity at the first reports of Jesus' appearance alive (Matt. XXVIII:17; Mark XVI:11, 13; Luke XXIV:11, 16, 37, 41; John XX:9, 14, 25). Furthermore, it is also evident that Jesus, in these appearances, must have assumed some form or shape different from His natural earthly body. Otherwise His intimate friends and associates could not have been in such uncertainty about recognizing His identity. Thus Matthew says that when He appeared to the eleven "some doubted." But if He had appeared in His natural form, how could any of the apostles have doubted as to whether the apparition was He or some other person? According to Mark, the apostles questioned the accuracy of the report by Mary and the two disciples that they had seen Jesus (Mark XVI:13, 14). Luke relates that Jesus spent a considerable portion of one day with two of the disciples, and joined them at their evening meal. But they did not recognize Him until He blessed some bread, brake it, and gave to them, and then "He vanished out of their sight" (Luke XXIV:13-31). On His first appearance in the midst of the apostles, "they were terrified and affrighted, and supposed that they had seen a spirit." Even after He showed them His hands and feet, their doubts were not dissipated, and, although He ate a piece of fish and some honey comb, it is not explicitly stated that this removed all their uncertainty (Luke XXIV:36-43). According to John, Mary Magdalene, who was well acquainted with Jesus in His lifetime, when she saw this apparition, "knew not that it was Jesus." She spoke to Him, "supposing Him to be the gardener." He gives her a message to His disciples, and it is implied in the narrative that she then recognizes Him as Jesus, although it is not explained how this change came about (John XX:14-17). On His appearance to the apostles, He shows them His hands and feet, as though that were necessary to confirm their recognition of His identity. Thomas, apparently, will not trust to the story of the other apostles; nor even to the personal appearance of Jesus, until he has put his fingers into the prints on Jesus' hands and feet (John XX:19-28). If Jesus had worn His earthly form these prints, which the apostles had never before seen, could not have aided in His identification. The account in John, Chap. XXI, shows that the seven assembled at the sea of Tiberias did not at first recognize Jesus, although one of them was Thomas, who had already identified Him in Jerusalem. "But the disciples knew not that it was Jesus" (John XXI:4). A little later it is said: "And none of the disciples durst ask Him, Who art Thou? Knowing that it was the Lord" (John XXI:12). No explanation is given as to how this knowledge finally came to them. Out of this welter of confusion and contradictions, it is impossible to select any one coherent, authoritative story. With equal warrant of authority it may be asserted that He appeared to the apostles only in Galilee (Matt.) or never in Galilee, but only in Jerusalem (Mark, Luke, Acts); that Jesus' first appearance was to the two Marys (Matthew), or was to Mary Magdalene alone (Mark, John), or that He did not appear to them at all, but two men "in shining garments" gave them the message to the apostles (Luke); that He made a special appearance to two of the apostles (Mark, Luke), or that He did not make this appearance (Matthew, John); that He never appeared to the apostles but once (in Galilee according to Matthew, in Jerusalem, according to Mark and Luke), or that He appeared to them twice in Jerusalem (John XX) and once in Galilee (John XXI), or that He was with the apostles in Jerusalem for forty days, apparently in frequent communication with them (Acts I). As to the ascension, it either occurred at some indefinite time on some unidentified mountain in Galilee and could be testified to by the unspecified number of the eleven who did not "doubt" (Matt.); or it (impliedly) occurred at some indefinite time on some unspecified shore of the sea of Tiberias, in Galilee, and was witnessed only by the seven (John XXI); or it occurred in Jerusalem at some unspecified time or place, and, so far as appears, in the presence of no one (Mark XVI:19); or it occurred at Bethany at some indefinite time in the presence of some unspecified number of His disciples (Luke XXIV:50, 51); or it occurred at least forty days after the Crucifixion on "the mount called Olivet, which is from Jerusalem a Sabbath day's journey," in the presence of persons who are only identified as "they" (Acts I); or, so far as the Gospel of John is concerned, even including Chapter XXI, it could fairly be claimed that He did not know of any specific ascension. While the exact date of the writing of the four Gospels and of the Acts cannot be determined, yet, in any event, they must have been composed when there were many living witnesses to the events of Jesus' life. If such a stupendous miracle as the ascension had occurred shortly after Jesus' death, it is inexplicable that these historians should not have shown some practical unanimity as to the time, place and witnesses of the event. [56] "The attitude of slave-holders towards freedom in the abstract was grotesque in its lack of logic; but the attitude of many other classes of men, both abroad and home, towards it was equally full of a grimly unconscious humor. The southern planters, who loudly sympathized with Kossuth and the Hungarians, were entirely unconscious that their tyranny over their own black bondsmen made their attacks upon Austria's despotism absurd." Roosevelt's Life of Benton, American Statesmen Series, p. 275. [57] Compare his severe criticism of the abolition revolt from the Whig party in 1844 with his own revolt from the Republican party in 1912. Life of Benton, American Statesmen Series, page 291. [58] If this had been written after the Spanish war, he might, with equal logic, have said the same thing of Porto Rico and the Philippines. [59] It would be interesting if President Roosevelt had cited some international controversies in which one nation did not claim that the matter in dispute was "of great importance" and that there was no "doubt as to which side was right." [60] From the context he evidently means here any shadow or pretense of title. [61] If, as Mr. Roosevelt concedes, the war with Mexico was unjustifiable, it is rather difficult to understand how the morals of the people of the United States could have been improved by the consciousness that they had unjustly slaughtered many thousands of innocent Mexicans and robbed them of immense areas of their lands. [62] It is apparent that Matthew uses the word "drinking" in the sense of "drinking wine," and undoubtedly Luke uses the word "drink" in the same sense. In all, or nearly all, instances in the four Gospels where these words are used in connection with eating or fasting, they refer to the drinking of wine. As to the words "wine," or "fruit of the vine," when used in the Gospels, meaning some unfermented liquid, the undeviating practice of the early Christian churches in celebrating the Holy Communion with actual wine, stamps this claim as too absurd to merit discussion. Undoubtedly Peter, James, John, Paul and the other founders of the infant churches knew and followed the example of Jesus in prescribing wine as a part of this solemn ceremony. If the "universal tradition of the church" is not to be believed on this point, of what value is it on any other? It would be as sensible to claim that there has never been any difference between Moslems and Christians in the use of wine, because, in truth, the orthodox Christian was never authorized to use anything but some unfermented drink that a Moslem might also have used. Transcriber's notes: The following is a list of changes made to the original. The first line is the original line, the second the corrected one. _Joseph,_ not _Mary_, as being af the house of David (Luke II:4). _Joseph,_ not _Mary_, as being of the house of David (Luke II:4). like Judaea, and that it was taken at least ten years after like Judæa, and that it was taken at least ten years after [12] Luke says that Joseph and Mary were "amazed", and, [12] Luke says that Joseph and Mary were "amazed," and, and came into the coasts of Judaea beyond Jordan" (Matt. XIX:1). and came into the coasts of Judæa beyond Jordan" (Matt. XIX:1). (Matt. XXI:23-46; XXII! XXIII; XXIV; XXV). (Matt. XXI:23-46; XXII; XXIII; XXIV; XXV). the children of God; whosover, therefore, shall humble himself the children of God; whosoever, therefore, shall humble himself sacrifice for mercy (Matt. XII:7.) When prayers are regarded sacrifice for mercy (Matt. XII:7). When prayers are regarded International Cyclopaedia, Sabbath, Vol. XII, p. 857. International Cyclopædia, Sabbath, Vol. XII, p. 857. of that day advised "_panem et circenses_"--food and amusement of that day advised "_panem et circenses_"--food and amusement. 
39052	----	[Transcriber's note: archaic spellings such as "desart" for "desert" have been retained, as have inconsistent spellings such as "Galilee"--"Gallilee", etc.] ECCE HOMO! OR, A CRITICAL INQUIRY INTO THE HISTORY OF JESUS OF NAZARETH: BEING A RATIONAL ANALYSIS OF THE GOSPELS by BARON d'HOLBACH (Paul Henri Thiry Holbach) The Cross was the banner, under which madmen assembled to glut the earth with blood.--_Vide Chap._ 18. GORDON PRESS NEW YORK 1977 GORDON PRESS-Publishers P.O. Box 459 Bowling Green Station New York, N.Y. 10004 =Library of Congress Cataloging in Publication Data= [Holbach, Paul Henri Thiry, baron d'] 1723-1789. Ecce homo! Translation of Histoire critique de Jésus Christ. Reprint of the 1st American ed., rev. and corr., of 1827, printed for the proprietors of the Philosophical library, New York, which was issued as no. 1 of the Philosophical library. 1. Jesus Christ--Biography--Early works to 1800. I. Title. II. Series: The Philosophical library; no. 1. BT30O.H74 1976 232.9'01 73-8281 ISBN 0-87968-077-6 Printed in the United States of America INTRODUCTION. Although the writings of the New Testament are in the hands of every one, nothing is more uncommon than to find the professors of Christianity acquainted with the history or the founder of their religion; and even among those who have perused that history, it is still more rare to find any who have ventured seriously to examine it. It must, indeed, be acknowledged, that the ignorance of the one, and the want of reflection in the other, on a subject which they, nevertheless, regard as of infinite importance, may arise from the dislike naturally occasioned by the perusal of the New Testament. In that work there is a confusion, an obscurity and a barbarity of stile, well adapted to confound the ignorant, and to disgust enlightened minds. Scarcely is there a history, ancient or modern, which does not possess more method and clearness than that of Jesus; neither do we perceive that the Holy Spirit, its reputed author, has surpassed, or even equalled many profane historians, whose writings are not so important to mankind. The clergy confess, that the apostles were illiterate men, and of rough manners; and it does not appear that the Spirit which inspired them, troubled itself with correcting their defects. On the contrary, it seems to have adopted them; to have accommodated itself to the weak understandings of its instruments; and to have inspired them with works in which we do not find the judgment, order, or precision, that prevail in many human compositions. Hence, the gospels exhibit a confused assemblage of prodigies, anachronisms, and contradictions, in which criticism loses itself, and which would make any other book be rejected with contempt. It is by _mysteries_ the mind is prepared to respect religion and its teachers. We are therefore warranted to suspect, that an obscurity was designedly given to these writings. In matters of religion it is prudent never to speak very distinctly. Truths simple and easily understood, do not strike the imagination in so lively a manner as ambiguous oracles, and impenetrable mysteries. Jesus, although come on purpose to enlighten the world, was to be a _stumbling block_ to many nations. The small number of the elect, the difficulty of salvation, and the danger of exercising reason, are repeatedly announced in the gospels. Every thing seems indeed to demonstrate, that God sent his Son to the nations, on purpose to ensnare them, and that they should not comprehend any part of the religion which he meant to promulgate. In this the Eternal appears to have intended to throw mortals into darkness, perplexity, a diffidence of themselves, and a continual embarrassment, obliging them to have recourse to those infallible luminaries, their priests, and to remain forever under the tutelage of the church. Her ministers, we know, claim the exclusive privilege of understanding and explaining the scriptures; and no mortal can expect to obtain future felicity if he does not pay due submission to their decisions. Thus, it belongs not to the laity to examine religion. On mere inspection of the gospels, every person must be convinced that the book is divine; that every word contained in it is inspired by the Holy Spirit; and that the explanations given by the church of that celestial work, in like manner emanate from the Most High. In the first ages of Christianity, those who embraced the religion of Jesus were only the dregs of the people; consequently very simple, unacquainted with letters, and disposed to believe all the wonders any one chose to announce. Jesus, in his sermons, addressed himself to the vulgar only; he would have intercourse with none but persons of that description; he constantly refused to work miracles in presence of the most clear-sighted of the nation; he declaimed unceasingly against the learned, the doctors, and the rich; against all in whom he could not find the pliability necessary for adopting his maxims. We see him continually extolling poorness of spirit, simplicity, and faith. His disciples, and after them the ministers of the church, have faithfully followed his footsteps; they have always represented faith, or blind submission, as the first of virtues; as the disposition most agreeable to God, and most necessary to salvation. This principle serves for a basis to the Christian religion, and, above all, to the usurpations of the clergy. The preachers, therefore, who succeeded the apostles, employed the greatest care in secreting the gospels from the inspection of all who were not initiated in the mysteries of religion. They exhibited these books to those only whose faith they had tried, and whom they found already disposed to regard them as divine. This mysterious spirit has been transmitted down to our days. In several countries, the laity are interdicted from perusing the scriptures, especially in the Romish communion, whose clergy are best acquainted with governing mankind. The council of Trent has decreed, that "it belongs to the church alone to decide on the true meaning of the scriptures, and give their interpretation." It is true, the _reading_ of the sacred books is permitted, and even recommended to protestants, who are also enjoined to _examine_ their religion. But faith must always precede that reading, and follow that examination; so that before reading, a protestant is bound to believe the gospel to be divine: and the examination of it is permitted only, while he finds there what the ministers of his sect have resolved that he shall find. Beyond this, he is regarded as an ungodly man, and often punished for the weakness of his intellect. The salvation of Christians thus depends neither on the reading nor on the understanding of the sacred books, but on the belief that these books are divine. If, unfortunately, the reading or examination of any one, does not coincide with the decisions, interpretations, and commentaries of the church, he is in danger of being ruined, and of incurring eternal damnation. To _read_ the gospel, he must commence with being disposed blindly to believe all which that book contains; to _examine_ the gospel, he must be previously resolved to find nothing there but the holy and the adorable; in fine, to _understand_ the gospel, he must entertain a fixed persuasion, that the priests can never be themselves deceived, or wish to deceive others in the manner they explain it. "Believe, (say they,) believe on our words that this book is the work of God himself; if you dare to doubt it, you shall be damned. Are you unable to comprehend any thing which God reveals to you there? Believe evermore: God has revealed himself that he may not be understood.--"The glory of God is to conceal his word;"--(Prov. xxv. 2.) or rather, by speaking, in a mysterious manner, does not God intimate that he wishes every one to refer it to us, to whom he has confided his important secrets? A truth, of which you must not doubt, seeing that we persecute in this world, and damn in the other, whoever dares to question the testimony which we bear to ourselves." However erroneous this reasoning may appear to those accustomed to think, it is sufficient for the greater part of believers. Where, therefore, they do not read the gospel, or where they do read it, they do not examine it; where they do examine it, it is with prejudiced eyes, and with a determination to find there only what can be conformable to these prejudices, and to the interests of their guides.--In consistency with his fears and prepossessions, a Christian conceives himself lost, should he find in the sacred books reason to doubt the veracity of his priests. With such dispositions, it is no way surprising to see men persisting in their ignorance, and making a merit of rejecting the lights which reason offers them. It is thus, that error is perpetuated, and that nations, in concert with those who deceive them, confer on interested cheats an unbounded confidence in what they regard as of the greatest importance to their own felicity. But the darkness which for so many ages has enveloped the human mind, begins to dissipate. In spite of the tyrannic cares of their jealous guides, mankind seem desirous to burst from the pupilage, wherein so many causes combine to retain them. The ignorance in which the priesthood fostered the credulous, has vanished from among many nations; the despotism of priests is enfeebled in several flourishing states; science has rendered the mind more liberal; and mankind begin to blush at the ignominious fetters, under which the clergy have so long made both kings and people groan. The human mind is struggling in every country to break in pieces its chains. Having premised this, we proceed to examine, without any prejudice, the life of Jesus. We shall deduce our facts from the gospels only--memorials reverenced and acknowledged by the doctors of the Christian religion. To illustrate these facts, we shall employ the aid of criticism. We shall exhibit, in the plainest manner, the conduct, maxims, and policy of an obscure legislator, who, after his death, acquired a celebrity to which he had no pretensions while alive. We shall contemplate in its cradle a religion which, at first, intended for the vilest populace of a nation, the most abject, the most credulous, and the most stupid on earth, became, by little and little, mistress of the Romans, the firebrand of nations, the absolute sovereign of European monarchs; arbiter of the destiny of kingdoms; the cause of their friendship, and of their hate; the cement which serves to strengthen their alliance or their discord; and the leaven always ready to put minds in fermentation. In fine, we shall behold an artizan, a melancholy enthusiast and unskilful juggler, abandoning his profession of a carpenter to preach to men of his own cast; miscarrying in all his projects; himself punished as a public incendiary; dying on a cross; and yet after his death becoming the legislator and the god of many nations, and an object of adoration to beings who pretend to common sense! If the Holy Spirit had anticipated the transcendant fortune which the religion of Jesus was one day to attain; if he had foreseen that this religion would be received by kings, civilized nations, scholars, and persons in the higher circles of life; if he had suspected that it would be examined, analyzed, discussed and criticised by logicians; there is reason to believe that he would have left us memoirs less shapeless, facts more circumstantial, proofs more authentic, and materials better digested than those we possess on the life and doctrine of its founder. He would have chosen writers better qualified than those he has inspired, to transmit to nations the speeches and actions of the saviour of the world; he would have made him act and speak on the most trifling point, in a manner more worthy of a god; he would have put in his mouth a language more noble, more perspicuous, and more persuasive; and he would have employed means more certain to convince rebellious reason, and abash incredulity. Nothing of all this has occurred: the gospel is merely an eastern romance, disgusting to men of common sense, and obviously addressed to the ignorant, the stupid, and the vulgar; the only persons whom it can mislead. Criticism finds there no connection of facts, no agreement of circumstances, no illustration of principles, and no uniformity of relation. Four men, unpolished and unlettered, pass for the faithful authors of memoirs containing the life of Jesus; and it is on their testimony that Christians believe themselves bound to receive the religion they profess; and adopt, without examination, the most contradictory facts, the most incredible actions, the most amazing prodigies, the most unconnected system, the most unintelligible doctrines, and the most revolting mysteries! Victor of Tunis informs us, that, in the sixth century, the Emperor Anastasius "caused the gospels to be corrected, as works composed by _fools_." The Elements of Euclid are intelligible to all who endeavor to understand them; they excite no dispute among geometricians. Is it so with the Bible? and do its _revealed_ truths occasion no disputes among divines? By what fatality have writings revealed by God himself still need of commentaries? and why do they demand additional lights from on high, before they can be believed or understood? Is it not astonishing, that what was intended as a _guide_ to mankind, should be wholly above their comprehension? Is it not cruel, that what is of most importance to them, should be least known? All is mystery, darkness, uncertainty, and matter of dispute, in a religion intended by the Most High to enlighten the human race. In fact, God is every where represented in the bible as a _seducer_. He permitted Eve to be _seduced_ by a serpent. He hardened the heart of Pharaoh; and the prophet Jeremiah distinctly accuses him of being a deceiver. Supposing, however, that the gospels were in reality written by apostles or disciples of apostles, should it not follow from this alone, that their testimony ought to be suspected? Could not men who are described as illiterate, and destitute of talents, be themselves deceived? Could not enthusiasts and credulous fanatics imagine, that they had seen many things which never existed, and thus become the dupes of deception? Whoever has perused the ancient historians, particularly Herodotus, Plutarch, Livy, and Josephus, must admit the force of this reasoning. These writers, with a pious credulity similar to that of Christians, relate prodigies pregnant with absurdities, which they themselves pretended to have witnessed, or were witnessed by others. Among the wonders that appeared at Rome, some time before the triumvirate, many statues of the Gods sweat blood and water; and there was an Ox which spoke. Under the empire of Caligula, the statue of Jupiter Olympus burst forth into such loud fits of laughter, that those who were taking it down to carry to Rome, abandoned their work and fled in terror. A crow prognosticated misfortune to Domitian, and an Owl paid the same compliment to Herod. Moreover, could not impostors, strongly attached to a sect by which they subsisted, and which, therefore, they had an interest to support, attest miracles, and publish statements with the falsehood of which they were well acquainted? and could not the first christians, by a _pious fraud_, afterwards add or retrench things essential to the works ascribed to the apostles? We know that Origen, so early as the third century, complained loudly of the corruption of manuscripts. "What shall we say (exclaims he) of the errors of transcribers, and of the impious temerity with which they have corrupted the text? What shall we say of the licence of those, who promiscuously interpolate or erase at their pleasure?" These questions form warrantable prejudices against the persons to whom the gospels have been ascribed, and against the purity of their text. It is also extremely difficult to ascertain whether those books belong to the authors whose names they bear. In the first ages of Christianity there was a great number of gospels, different from one another, and composed for the use of different churches and different sects of Christians. The truth of this has been confessed by ecclesiastical historians of the greatest credit. (Tillemont, tom. ii. 47, etc. Epiphan. Homil. 84. Dodwell's Disser. on Irenaeus, p. 66. Freret's Examin. Critique. Codex Apocryphus, &c.) There is, therefore, reason to suspect, that the persons who composed the acknowledged gospels might, with the view of giving them more weight, have attributed them to apostles, or disciples, who actually had no share in them. That idea, once adopted by ignorant and credulous christians, might be transmitted from age to age, and pass at last for certainty, in times when it was no longer possible to ascertain the authors or the facts related. Among some fifty gospels, with which Christianity in its commencement was inundated, the church, assembled in council at Nice, chose four of them, and rejected the rest as apocryphal, although the latter had nothing more ridiculous in them than those which were admitted. Thus, at the end of three centuries, (_i.e._ in the three hundred and twenty-fifth year of the Christian era,) some bishops decided, that these four gospels were the only ones which ought to be adopted, or which had been inspired by the Holy Spirit. A miracle enabled them to discover this important truth, so difficult to be discerned at a time even then not very remote from that of the apostles. They placed, it is said, promiscuously, books apocryphal and authentic under an altar:--the Fathers of the Council betook themselves to prayer, in order to induce the Lord to permit the false or doubtful books to remain _under_ the altar, whilst those which were truly inspired should place themselves above it--a circumstance which did not fail to occur. It is then on this miracle that the faith of Christians depends! It is to it that they owe the assurance of possessing the true gospels, or faithful memoirs of the life of Jesus! It is from these only they are, permitted to deduce the principles of their belief, and the rule of conduct which they ought to observe in order to obtain eternal salvation! Thus, the authenticity of the books which are the basis of the Christian religion, is founded solely on the authority of a council composed of priests and bishops. But these bishops and priests, judges and parties in an affair wherein they were obviously interested, could they not be themselves deceived? Independently of the pretended miracle which enabled them to distinguish the true gospels from the false, had they any sign by which they could clearly distinguish the writings they ought to receive from those which they ought to reject? Some will tell us, that the church assembled in a general council is _infallible_; that then the Holy Spirit inspires it, and that its decisions ought to be regarded as those of God himself. If we demand, where is the proof of this infallibility? it will be answered, that the gospel assures it, and that Jesus has promised to assist and enlighten his church until the consummation of ages. Here the incredulous reply, that the church, or its ministers, create rights to themselves; for it is their own authority which establishes the authenticity of books whereby that authority is established. This is obviously a circle of errors. In short, an assembly of bishops and priests has decided, that the books which attribute to themselves an infallible authority, have been divinely inspired! Notwithstanding this decision, there still remain some difficulties on the authenticity of the gospels. In the _first_ place, it may be asked whether the decision of the Council of Nice, composed of three hundred and eighteen bishops, ought to be regarded as that of the universal church? Were all who formed that assembly entirely of the same opinion? Were, there no disputes among these men inspired by the Holy Spirit? Was their decision unanimously accepted? Had not the authority of Constantine a chief share in the adoption of the decrees of that celebrated council? In this case, was it not the imperial power, rather than the spiritual authority, which decided the authenticity of the gospels? In the _second_ place, many theologists agree, that the universal church, although infallible in doctrine, may err in _facts_. Now it is evident, that in the case alluded to, the doctrine depends on fact. Indeed, before deciding whether the doctrines contained in the gospels were divine, it was necessary to know, whether the gospels themselves were written by the inspired authors to whom they are ascribed. This is obviously a _fact_. It was further necessary to know, whether the gospels had never been altered, mutilated, augmented, interpolated, or falsified, by the different hands through which they had passed in the course of three centuries. This is likewise a _fact_. Can the fathers of the church guarantee the probity of all the depositaries of those writings, and the exactness of all the transcribers? Can they decide definitively, that, during so long a period, none could insert in these memoirs, marvelous relations or dogmas, unknown to those who are their supposed authors? Does not ecclesiastical history inform us, that, in the origin of Christianity, there were schisms, disputes, heresies, and sects without number; and that each of the disputants founded his opinion on the gospels? Even in the time of the Council of Nice, do we not find that the whole church was divided on the fundamental article of the Christian religion--the divinity of Jesus? Thus it is seen that the council of Nice was the true founder of Christianity, which, till then, wandered at random; did not acknowledge Jesus to be God; had no authentic gospels; was without a fixed law; and had no code of doctrine whereon to rely. A number of bishops and priests, very few in comparison of those who composed the whole Christian church, and these bishops no way unanimous, decided on the points most essential to the salvation of nations. They decided on the divinity of Jesus; on the authenticity of the gospels; that, according to these, their own authority ought to be deemed infallible. In a word, they decided on the sum total of faith! Nevertheless their decisions might have remained without force, if they had not been supported by the authority of Constantine. This prince gave prevalence to the opinion of the fathers of the council, who knew how to draw him, for a time, to their own side; and who, amidst this multitude of gospels and writings, did not fail to declare those divine which they judged most comformable to their own opinions, or to the ruling faction. In religion as in other things, the reasoning of the _strongest_ party is always the best. Behold, then, the authority of an emperor, who determines the chief points of the Christian religion! This emperor, unsettled in his own faith, decides that Jesus is consubtantial with the Father, and compels his subjects to receive, as inspired, the four gospels we have in our hands.--It is in these memoirs, adopted by a few bishops in the council of Nice; by them attributed to apostles, or unexceptionable persons inspired by the Holy Spirit; by them proposed to serve as an indispensable rule to Christians; that we are to seek for the materials of our history. We shall state them with fidelity; we shall compare and connect their discordant relations; we shall see if the facts which they detail are worthy of God, and calculated to procure to mankind the advantages which they expect. This inquiry will enable us to judge rightly of the Christian religion; of the degree of confidence we ought to place in it; of the esteem we ought to entertain for its lessons and doctrines; and of the idea we should form of Jesus its founder. Though, in composing this history, we have laid it down as a rule to employ the gospels only, we presume not to flatter ourselves that it will please every body, or that the clergy will adopt our labors. The connections we shall form; the interpretations we shall give; the animadversions we shall present to our readers, will not always be entirely agreeable to the views of our spiritual guides, the greater part of whom are enemies to all inquiry. To such men we would state, that criticism gives a lustre to truth; that to reject all examination is to acknowledge the weakness of their cause; and that not to wish for discussion is to avow it to be incapable of sustaining a trial. If they tell us, that our ideas are repugnant to the decisions of councils, of the fathers, and of the universal church; to this we shall answer, that, according to their own books, _opposition_ is not always a crime; we shall plead the example of an apostle, to whom the Christian religion is under the greatest obligations--what do we say!--to whom alone, perhaps, it owes its existence. Now this apostle boasts of having _withstood_ the great St. Peter to his face, that visible head of the church, appointed by Jesus himself to feed his flock; and whose infallibility is at least as probable as that of his successors. If they charge us with _innovation_, we shall plead the example of Jesus himself, who was regarded as an _innovator_ by the Jews, and who was a martyr for the reform he intended to introduce. If the opinions be unacceptable, the author, as he has no pretensions to divine inspiration, leaves to every one the liberty of rejecting or receiving his interpretations, and method of investigation. He does not threaten with eternal torments those who resist his arguments; he has not credit enough to promise heaven to such as yield to them; he pretends neither to constrain, nor to seduce those who do not think as he does. He is desirous only to calm the mind; allay animosity; and sooth the passions of those zealots, who are ever ready to harass and destroy their fellow creatures on account of opinions which may not appear equally convincing to all the world. He promises to point out the ridiculous cruelty of those men of blood, who persecute for dogmas which they themselves do not understand. He ventures to flatter himself, that such as peruse this inquiry with coolness, will acknowledge, that it is very possible to doubt of the inspiration of the gospels, and of the divine mission of Jesus, without ceasing to be a rational and honest man. Such as are exasperated against this work are entreated to remember, that faith is a gift of heaven; that the want of it is not a vice; that if the Jews, who were eye witnesses of the wonders of Jesus, did not believe them, it is very pardonable to doubt them at the beginning of the nineteenth century, especially on finding that the accounts of these marvels, though said to have been inspired by the Holy Spirit, are not uniform nor in harmony with each other. In fine, fiery devotees are earnestly entreated to moderate their holy rage, and suffer the meekness, so often recommended by their "divine Saviour" to occupy the place of that bitter zeal, and persecuting spirit which creates so many enemies to the Christian religion. Let them remember, that if it was to patience and forbearance Jesus promised the possession of the earth, it is much to be feared that pride, intolerance and inhumanity, will render the ministers of the church detestable, and make them lose that empire over minds, which to them is so agreeable. If they wish to reign over rational men, they must display reason, knowledge, and, above all, virtues more useful than those wherewith the teachers of the gospel have so long infested society. Jesus has said, "_Happy are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth_;" unless indeed interpreters should pretend, that this only signifies the necessity of persecuting, exterminating, and cutting the throats of those whose affections they wish to gain. If it were permitted to cite the maxims of a profane person by that of the Son of God, we would quote here the apophthegm of the profound Machiavel, that "empires are preserved by the same means whereby they are established." It was by meekness, patience, and precaution, that the disciples of Jesus are said to have at first established Christianity. Their successors employed violence; but not until they found themselves supported by devout tyrants. Since then, the gospel of peace has been the signal of war; the pacific disciples of Jesus have become implacable warriors; have treated each other as ferocious beasts; and the church has been perpetually torn by dissentions, schisms, and factions. If the primitive spirit of patience and meekness does not quickly return to the aid of religion, it will soon become the object of the hatred of nations, who begin to feel that morality is preferable to obscure dogmas, and that peace is of greater value than the holy frenzy of the ministers of the gospel. We cannot, therefore, with too much earnestness exhort them, for their own sakes, to moderation. Let them imitate their divine Master, who never employed his Father's power to exterminate the Jews, of whom he had so much to complain. He did not make the armies of heaven descend, in order to establish his doctrine. He chose rather to surrender to the secular power than give up the infidels, whom his prodigies and transcendent reasoning could not convince. Though he is represented as being the depositary of the power of the Most High; though he was inspired by the Holy Spirit; though he had at his command all the angels of paradise, we do not find that he performed any miracles on the understandings of his auditory. He suffered them to remain in their blindness, though he had come on purpose to enlighten them. We cannot doubt, that a conduct, so wise, was intended to make the pastors of his church (who are not possessed of more persuasive powers than their master) sensible that it is not by violence they can reconcile the mind to incredible things; and that it would be unjust to force others to comprehend what, without favor from above; it would be impossible for themselves to comprehend; or what, even with such favor, they but very imperfectly understand. But it is time to conclude an introduction, perhaps, already too long to a work which, even without preamble, may be tiresome to the clergy, and irritate the temper of the devout. The author does himself the justice to believe, that he has written enough to be attacked by a host of writers, obliged, by situation to repel his blows, and to defend, right or wrong, a cause wherein they are so deeply interested. He calculates that, on his death, his book will be calumniated, as well as his reputation, and his arguments misrepresented, or mutilated. He expects to be treated as impious--a blasphemer--an atheist, and to be loaded with all the epithets which the pious are in use to lavish on those who disquiet them. He will not, however, sleep the less tranquil for that; but as his sleep may prevent him from replying, he thinks it his duty to inform his antagonists before hand, that _injuries are not reasons_. He does more--he bequeaths them charitable advice, to which the defenders of religion do not usually pay sufficient attention. They are then apprised, that if, in their learned refutations, they do not resolve completely _all_ the objections brought against them, they will have done nothing for their cause. The defenders of a religion, in which it is affirmed that every thing is divinely inspired, are bound not to leave a single argument behind, and ought to be convinced that _answering_ to an argument is not always refuting it. They should please also to keep in remembrance, that a single falsehood, a single absurdity, a single contradiction, or a single blunder, fairly pointed out in the gospels, is sufficient to render suspected, and even to overturn the authority of a book which ought to be perfect in all its parts, if it be true that it is the work of an infinitely perfect Being. An incredulous person, being but a man, may reason wrong; but it is never permitted to a God, or his instruments, either to contradict themselves, or to talk nonsense. ECCE HOMO! CHAP. I. ACCOUNT OF THE JEWISH PEOPLE AND THEIR PROPHETS.--INQUIRY INTO THE PROPHECIES RELATING TO JESUS. However slightly we cast our eyes over the history of the Jews, as contained in their sacred books, we are forced to acknowledge, that these people were at all times the blindest, the most stupid, the most credulous, the most superstitious, and the silliest that ever appeared on earth. Moses, by dint of miracles, or delusions, succeeded in subjugating the Israelites. After having liberated them from the iron rod of the Egyptians, he put them under his own. This celebrated legislator had evidently the intention to subject the Hebrews for ever to his purposes, and, after himself, to render them the slaves of his family and tribe. It is obvious, that the mosaical economy had no other object than to deliver up the people of Israel to the tyranny and extortions of priests and Levites. These the law, which was promulgated in name of the Eternal, authorised to devour the rest of the nation, and to crush them under an insupportable yoke. The chosen people of God were destined solely to be the prey of the priesthood; to satiate their avarice and ambition; and to become the instrument and victim of their passions. Hence, by the law, and by the policy of the priests, the people of God were kept in a profound ignorance, in an abject superstition, in an unsocial and savage aversion for the rest of mankind; in an inveterate hatred of other forms of worship, and in a barbarous and sanguinary intolerance towards every foreign religion. All the neighbors of the Hebrews, were, therefore, their enemies. If the holy nation was the object of the love of the most high, it was an object of contempt and horror to all who had occasion to know it--a fact admitted by their own historian, Josephus. For this it was indebted to its religious institutions, to the labors of its priests, to its diviners, and its prophets, who continually profitted by its credulity, in displaying wonders and kindling its delirium. Under the guidance of Moses, and of generals or judges who governed them afterwards, the Jewish people distinguished themselves only by massacres, unjust wars, cruelties, usurpations, and infamies, which were enjoined them in the name of the Eternal. Weary of the government of their priests, which drew on them misfortunes and bloody defeats, the descendants of Abraham demanded kings; but, under these, the state was perpetually torn with disputes between the priesthood and the government. Superstition aimed at ruling over policy. Prophets and priests pretended to reign over kings, of whom such as were not sufficiently submissive to the interpreters of heaven, were renounced by the Lord, and, from that moment, unacknowledged and opposed by their own subjects. Fanatics and impostors, absolute masters of the understandings of the nation, were continually ready to rouse it, and excite in its bosom the most terrible revolutions. It was the intrigues of the prophets that deprived Saul of his crown, and bestowed it on David, _the man according to God's own heart_--that is to say, devoted to the will of the priests. It was the prophets, who, to punish the defection of Solomon in the person of his son, occasioned the separation of the kingdoms of Judea and Israel. It was the prophets who kept these two kingdoms continually at variance; weakened them by means of each other, desolated them by religious and fatal wars, conducted them to complete ruin, a total dispersion of their inhabitants, and a long captivity among the Assyrians. So many calamities did not open the eyes of the Jews, who continued obstinate in refusing to acknowledge the true source of their misfortunes. Restored to their homes by the bounty of Cyrus, they were again governed by priests and prophets, whose maxims rendered them turbulent, and drew on them the hatred of sovereigns who subdued them. The Greek princes treated with the greatest severity a people whom the oracles and promises of their prophets rendered always rebellious, and ungovernable. The Jews, in fine, became the prey of the Romans, whose yoke they bore with fear, against whom impostors often incited them to revolt, and who, at last, tired of their frequent rebellions, entirely destroyed them as a nation. Such, in a few words, is the history of the Jewish people. It presents the most memorable examples of the evils which fanaticism and superstition produce; for it is evident that the continual revolutions, bloody wars, and total destruction of that nation, had no other cause than its unwearied credulity, its submission to priests, its enthusiasm, and its furious zeal, excited by the inspired. On reading the Old Testament, we are forced to confess, that the people of God (thanks to the roguery of their spiritual guides) were, beyond contradiction, the most unfortunate people that ever existed. Yet the most solemn promises of Jehovah seemed to assure to that people a flourishing and puissant empire. God had made an eternal alliance with Abraham and his posterity; but the Jews, far from reaping the fruits of this alliance, and far from enjoying the prosperity they had been led to expect, lived continually in the midst of calamities, and were, more than all other nations, the sport of frightful revolutions. So many disasters, however, were incapable of rendering them more considerate; the experience of so many ages did not hinder them from relying on oracles so often contradicted; and the more unfortunate they found themselves, the more rooted were they in their credulity. The destruction of their nation could not bring them to doubt of the excellence of their law, of the wisdom of their institutions, or of the veracity of their prophets, who successively relieved each other, either in menacing them in the name of the Lord, or in re-animating their frivolous hopes. Strongly convinced that they were the sacred and chosen people of the Most High, alone worthy of his favors, the Jews, in spite of all their miseries, were continually persuaded that their God could not have abandoned them.--They, therefore, constantly looked for an end to their afflictions, and promised themselves a deliverance, which obscure oracles had led them to expect. Building on these fanatical notions, they were at all times disposed to listen with avidity to every man who announced himself as inspired by heaven; they eagerly ran after every singular personage who could feed their expectations; they followed whoever had the secret of astonishing them by impostures, which their stupidity made them consider supernatural works, and unquestionable signs of divine power. Disposed to see the marvellous in the most trifling events, every adroit impostor was on the watch to deceive them, and was certain of making more or less adherents, especially among the populace, who are every where destitute of experience and knowledge. It was in the midst of a people of this disposition that the personage appeared whose history we write. He very soon found followers in the most despicable of the rabble. Seconded by these, he preached, as usual, _reformation_ to his fellow citizens, he wrought wonders; he styled himself the envoy of the Divinity. He particularly founded his mission on vague, obscure, and ambiguous predictions, contained in the sacred books of the Jews, which he applied to himself. He announced himself as the messiah or messenger, the deliverer of Israel, who for so many ages was the object of the nation's hope. His disciples, his apostles, and afterwards their successors, found means to apply to their master the ancient prophecies, wherein he seemed the least perceptibly designed. The Christians, docile and full of faith, have had the good fortune to see the founder of their religion predicted in the clearest manner throughout the whole Old Testament. By dint of allegories, figures, interpretations, and commentaries, their doctors have brought them to see, in this shapeless compilation, all that they had an interest in pointing out to them. When passages taken literally did not countenance deceit agreeably to their views, they contrived for them a two-fold sense: they pretended that it was not necessary to understand them literally, but to give them a mystical, allegorical, and spiritual meaning. To explain these pretended predictions, they continually substituted one name for another; they rejected the literal meaning, in order to adopt a figurative one; they changed the most natural signification of words they applied the same passages to events quite opposite; they retrenched the names of some personages plainly designed, in order to introduce that of Jesus; and, in all this, they did not blush to make the most crying abuse of the principles of language. The third chapter of Genesis furnishes a striking example of the manner in which the doctors of the Christian religion have allegorized passages of scripture, in order to apply then to Jesus. In this chapter, God says to the serpent, convicted of having seduced the woman, _the seed of the woman shall bruise thy head_. This prophesy appears with so much the more difficulty to apply to Jesus, that these words follow--_and thou shalt bruise his heel_. We do not comprehend, why the _seed of the woman_ must be understood of Jesus. If he was the Son of God, or God himself, he could not be produced from the _seed of the woman_. If he was man, he is not pointed out in a particular manner by these words, for all men, without exception, are produced from the _seed of women_. According to our interpreters, the serpent is sin, and the seed of the woman that bruises it is Jesus incarnate in the womb of Mary. Since the coming of Jesus, however, sin, typified by the serpent, has at all times existed; from which we are led to conclude, that Jesus has not destroyed it, and that the prediction is neither literally nor allegorically accomplished. In the twenty-second chapter of Genesis, God promises to Abraham, that in his seed _all the nations of the earth shall be blessed_. What we style prosperity, the Hebrews termed blessings. If Abraham and his race enjoyed prosperity, it was only for a short period; the Hebrews became afterwards the slaves of the Egyptians, and were, as has been seen, the most unfortunate people on earth. Christians have also given a mystic sense to this prophecy:--they substitute the name of Jesus for that of Abraham, and it is in him that all the nations shall be blessed. The advantages they shall enjoy will be persecutions, calamities, and misfortunes of every kind; and his disciples, like himself, shall undergo the most painful punishments. Hence we see, that, following our interpreters, the word _blessing_ has changed its meaning; it no longer implies prosperity; it signifies what, in ordinary language, is termed curses, disasters, afflictions, troubles, divisions, and religious wars--calamities with which the Christian nations have been continually _blessed_ since the establishment of the church. Christians believe that they see Jesus announced in the 49th chapter of Genesis. The patriarch Jacob there promises sovereign power to Judah. "The sceptre (says he) shall not depart from Judah, nor a lawgiver from between his feet, until Shiloh come, and unto him shall the gathering of the people be." It is thus that several interpreters translate the tenth verse of the 49th chapter of Genesis. Others have translated it thus, "the authority shall forever be in Judah, when the Messiah shall have come." Others read, "the authority shall be in Judah, till the messenger receive in Shiloh the sovereign power." Others again render the passage in this manner, "the people of Judah shall be in affliction, till the messenger of the Lord comes to put an end to it;" and according to others, "till the city of Shiloh be destroyed." This diversity in the translation of the same passage ought, unquestionably, to render the prophecy very suspicious. First, we see that it is impossible to determine the signification of the word _Shiloh_, or to ascertain, whether it be the name of a man or a city? Secondly, it is proved by the sacred books, received equally by Jew and Christians, that the sovereign power is gone from Judah; was wholly annihilated during the Babylonish captivity, and has not been re-established since. If it is pretended, that Jesus came to restore the power of Judah, we assert, on the contrary, that, in the time of Jesus, Judah was without authority, for Judah had submitted to the Romans. But our doctors have again recourse to allegory:--according to them, the power of Judah was the spiritual power of Jesus over Christians, designated by Judah. They, in like manner, see Jesus foretold by Balaam, who, by the bye, was a false prophet. He thus expresses himself: (Numbers xxiv. 16,)--"He hath said, who heard the words of God, and knew the knowledge of the Most High, who saw the vision of the Almighty, falling into a trance, but having his eyes open: I shall see him but not now; I shall behold him but not nigh; there shall come a star out of Jacob, and a sceptre shall rise out of Israel," &c. In this unintelligible jargon, they pretend to shew Christians a clear prediction of the founder of their religion. It is he who is the star, because his luminous doctrine enlightens all minds. _This sceptre, which shall rise out of Israel_, is the cross of Jesus, by the aid of which he has triumphed over the Devil, who, in spite of this victory, ceases not to reign on earth, and to render useless the triumph of the Son of God. But of all the prophecies contained in the Old Testament, there is not one to which the Christian doctors have attached more importance than that found in Isaiah, chap. vii. 14 A young woman _shall conceive, and bear a son, and shall call his name Immanuel_. To find out Jesus in this prediction, it is, first of all, necessary to be convinced, that this woman is _Mary_; next, it is necessary to ascertain that _Immanuel_ is the same with Jesus. It will always be objected against this pretended prophecy, that it is sufficient to read the chapter of Isaiah whence the passage is taken, to be satisfied that the prophet had in view Ahaz king of Judah. This prince is there represented as in consternation, on account of the arrival of Rezin and Pekah, kings of Syria and Israel, who, with their united armies, threatened his dominions. Isaiah encouraged him, by representing that he still had forces sufficient, and promised him the assistance of the Lord, whom every prophet made to be of his own party. To guarantee his promises, Isaiah told his sovereign, that he had only to ask of him a sign. The dispirited prince replied, that he did not wish to tempt the Lord. The prophet, however, wishing to convince him, announced a sign--"A young woman shall conceive, and bring forth a son, who shall be called Immanuel." Now the following chapter informs us who this young woman was: she was the wife of Isaiah himself.--"I took unto me (says he) faithful witnesses; and I went unto the _prophetess_, and she conceived and bare a son." The simple inspection of this text, evidently shows that it is in no respect applicable to Jesus. If what is recorded in 2d Chron. c. v. be true, the prophecy was not even accomplished, but the reverse of its fulfilment took place. Instead of Ahaz defeating his enemies, as Isaiah promised he would, his whole army was routed, 120,000 killed, and 200,000 carried into captivity by the kings of Syria and Israel. It is evident, then, that this famous sign of "a young woman shall conceive," &c. served only in the first instance to _deceive_ the king of Judah, and has since been employed to _mislead_ those who, like that king, relied on the professions of priests and prophets. Proceeding forward in the perusal of Isaiah (chap. ix. 6,) we find the following passage:--"Unto us a child is born, unto us a son is given: and the government shall be upon his shoulder." If the child foretold by Isaiah was born in his time, it can no longer be said, that the prophet meant to speak of Jesus, who was born several centuries after him; for the birth of that person being so distant, could not be a sign of deliverance to Ahaz, as his enemies pressed so closely upon him. To this it is answered, that the prophets spoke of future events as if they were past or present; but this answer requires to be established by proof. It is likewise said, that the birth of Isaiah's son was only a type of that of Jesus; for to him, it is affirmed, is applicable "the government on the shoulder," in which our doctors perceive distinctly pointed out the cross that Jesus carried on his shoulders when going to Calvary. Our interpreters have thus the happiness of seeing the sign of dominion, or empire, in what appears to eyes less enlightened, the sign of punishment, weakness, and slavery. It is proper also to inquire why it is said, in the Christian system, that it is not necessary a prophecy have relation, in all its parts, to the subject or fact to which it is applied. The sacred writers do not mean to cite a whole prophecy, but only a passage, a detached phrase, or often a single word, apposite to the subject they treat of, without troubling themselves whether what precedes, or what follows their quotation has connexion or not with what they are speaking of. In the example under discussion, Matthew, wishing to quote Isaiah and apply a prophecy to Jesus, takes of this prophecy these detached words only, _A young woman shall conceive_, &c.--he stood in need of no more of it. According to that Evangelist, Mary had conceived:--Isaiah had said, that a girl, or woman, should conceive. Matthew therefore concluded, that the conception of Jesus was foretold by Isaiah. This vague connection is sufficient for all Christians, who, like Matthew, believe they see their founder pointed out in prophecy. Following this strange method, they have referred to Isaiah to prove that Jesus was the messiah promised to the Jews. In the 53d chapter, this prophet describes in a very pathetic manner the misfortunes and sufferings of his brother Jeremiah. The clergy have long labored to apply that prophecy to Jesus: they have distinctly seen him pointed out in the "man of sorrows;" so that it is regarded rather as a faithful and circumstantial narrative of the passion of Jesus, than as a prediction. But, agreeably to sound criticism, this history relates only to Jeremiah. Not to deprive themselves, however, of the resources so useful a passage might furnish, they have decided, that, in the case of prophecies, the indirect relation should have place. By this means, in admitting that the narrative of Isaiah had Jeremiah for its object, they maintained that Jeremiah was a figure or type of Jesus. It is not that their lives were strictly consentaneous; but, in the Christian religion, conformity followed by affinities, is not absolutely requisite to the justice of the comparison. This manner of reasoning, peculiar to the Christian religion, has been very convenient for it. Paul especially, like most of the first preachers of Christianity, and after them the fathers and doctors of the church, employed this curious method of proving their system. According to them, all under the ancient law was the image of the new; and the most celebrated personages in the Old Testament, typified Jesus and his church. Abel, assassinated by his brother, was a prophetic figure of Jesus put to death by the Jews. The sacrifice of Isaac, which was not accomplished, was the image of that accomplished on the cross. The relations or predictions which had for their object Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, Moses, Joshua, Samuel, David, Solomon, Jeremiah, Zorobabel, or other ancient personages, were applied to Jesus. His death was represented by the blood of he-goats and of bulls. By aid of these allegories, the books of the Jews served only to announce the events in the life of Jesus, and the history of the establishment of his religion. In this manner it is easy to find in the scriptures whatever we desire. It would be useless to investigate the famous prophecy of the seventy weeks of Daniel, in which the Christian doctors believe they see the coming of Jesus clearly announced. It is true, that if Daniel, or his editors, had specified the nature of these _weeks_, they would have prevented much trouble to interpreters: this prediction might then have been a great resource to Christianity. The ablest critics, however, declare that they are greatly embarrassed when attempting to fix the commencement and the end of these weeks. On this they are never unanimous, nor can they agree on a precise date, which hitherto is wanting to the great event of the coming of the messiah. We know the Jews made use of weeks of days, weeks of weeks, and weeks of years. It is by a conjecture, merely hazarded, they advance in the bible of Louvain, that the weeks mentioned in Daniel are weeks of years. Yet that supposition throws light on nothing, for the chronological table, which the doctors of Louvain have published, gives only three hundred and forty-three years intervening between the time when they make the weeks to commence and the death of Jesus. Many have believed that this prediction was subsequently added to the text of Daniel, in favor of Jonathan Maccabeus. We may judge of the little credit that can be given to this prophecy, from the prodigious number of commentaries that have been made on it. CHAPTER II. THE BIRTH OF JESUS All the prophecies contained in the sacred books of the Jews, coincide in making them hope for the return of the favor of the Almighty. God had promised them a deliverer, a messenger, a messiah, who should restore the power of Israel. That deliverer was to be of the seed of David, the prince _according to God's own heart_; so submissive to the priests, and so zealous for religion. It was to recompense the devotion and docility of this holy usurper, that the prophets and the priests, loaded with kindness, promised him in the name of heaven, that his family should reign forever. If that famous prediction was belied during the Babylonish captivity, and at subsequent periods, the Jews, at this time no less credulous than their ancestors, persuaded themselves that it was impossible for their prophets and diviners to deceive them. They imagined that their oracles sooner or later would be accomplished, and that they should see a descendant of David restore the honor of their nation. It was in conformity to these predictions and popular notions, that the writers of the Gospels gave Jesus a genealogy; by which they pretended to prove that he was descended in a direct line from David, and consequently, had a right to arrogate the character of messiah. Nevertheless, criticism has exhausted itself on this genealogy. Such as are not possessed of faith, have been surprised to find, that the Holy Spirit has dictated it differently to the two evangelists who have detailed it: for, as has been frequently remarked, the genealogy given by Matthew is not the same with that of Luke: a disparity which has thrown Christian interpreters into embarrassments, from which all their subtilty has hitherto been unable to rescue them. They tell us, that one of these genealogies is that of Joseph; but, supposing Joseph to be of the race of David, a Christian cannot believe that he was the real father of Jesus, because his religion enjoins him to believe steadfastly, that he is the Son of God. Supposing the two genealogies to be Mary's, in that case the Holy Spirit has blundered in one of them. Even Matthew's account is contradictory of itself. He says (c. i. v. 17) "To all the generations from Abraham to David are _fourteen_ generations; and from David until the carrying away into Babylon are _fourteen_ generations; and from the carrying away into Babylon unto Christ are _fourteen_ generations." On enumerating the names given in the last division of time, we find only _twelve_ generations, even including Joseph. In whatever way we consider them, one of the genealogies will always appear faulty and incomplete, and the extraction of Jesus very weakly established. Let us now examine the occurrences which preceded and accompanied the birth of Jesus. Only one evangelist has particularly narrated them; all the others have superficially passed over circumstances as marvellous as they are important. Matthew, content with his genealogy, speaks but in few words of the preternatural manner wherein Jesus was formed in the womb of his mother. The speech of an angel, seen in a dream, suffices to convince Joseph of the virtue of his wife, and he adopts her child without hesitation. Mark makes no mention of this memorable incident. John, who, by the assistance of his mystic and Platonic theology, could embellish the story, or rather confound it, has not said one word on the subject. We are, therefore, constrained to satisfy ourselves with the materials Luke has transmitted us. According to this evangelist, Elizabeth, kinswoman of Mary, and wife of a priest named Zachariah, was in the sixth month of her pregnancy, "when the angel Gabriel was sent from God unto a city called Nazareth, to a virgin espoused to a man whose name was Joseph, of the house of David, and the virgin's name was Mary. And the angel came in unto her, and said, Hail thou that art highly favored, the Lord is with thee; blessed art thou among women. And when she saw him, she was troubled at his saying, and cast in her mind what manner of salutation this should be. And the angel said unto her, Fear not, Mary; for thou hast found favor with God. And behold thou shalt conceive in thy womb, and bring forth a son, and shalt call his name Jesus. Then said Mary to the angel, How shall this be, for I know not a man? And the angel answered and said unto her, The Holy Ghost shall come upon thee, and the power of the Highest shall overshadow thee; therefore, also that holy thing which shall be born of thee, shall be called the Son of God. And Mary said, Behold the handmaid of the Lord; be it unto me according to thy word. Thereafter (adds the text) the angel departed from her." Now what is there in all this that is any way marvellous? Nothing indeed is more simple than this narrative. If the least reflection is employed on it, the wonderful will vanish; and we shall find the greatest care has been taken to spare the modesty of the young persons who might read the story. An angel entered the house of Mary, _whose husband was absent_. He salutes her; that is, pays her a compliment, which may be translated as follows:--"Good day, my dear Mary! you are indeed adorable--What attractions! what graces! of all women, you are the most lovely in my eyes. Your charms are pledges to you of my sincerity. Crown then my passion. Fear not the consequences of your complaisance; your husband is a simpleton; by visions and dreams we can make him believe whatever we desire. The good man will regard your pregnancy as the effect of a miracle of the Most High; he will adopt your child with joy, and all will go on in the best manner possible." Mary, charmed with these words, and little accustomed to receive the like compliments from her husband, replied, "Well!--I yield--I rely on your word and address; do with me as you please." Nothing is more easy than to separate the relation of Luke from the marvellous. The event of Mary's pregnancy follows in the order of nature; and if we substitute a young man in the place of the angel, the passage of the evangelist will have nothing incredible in it. In fact, many have thought that the angel Gabriel was no other than a gallant, who, profiting by the absence of Joseph, found the secret to declare and gratify his passion. We shall not stop to form conjectures on the true name and station of Mary's lover. The Jews, whose testimony on this subject may appear suspicious, assert, as we shall afterwards relate, that this favorite lover was a soldier:--the military have always claims on the hearts of the ladies. They add, that from his commerce with the wife of Joseph, the messiah of the Christians sprung; that the discontented husband left his faithless wife, in order to retire to Babylon, and that Jesus with his mother went to Egypt, where he learned the trade of a conjurer, and afterwards returned to practise in Judea. The _proto-gospel_, ascribed to James, relates some curious and ridiculous circumstances, altogether omitted in the four canonical evangelists; yet they have nothing revolting to persons who possess faith. This gospel informs us of the ill humor of Joseph on seeing his wife pregnant, and the reproaches he loaded her with on account of her lewdness, unworthy of a virgin reared under the eyes of priests. Mary excuses herself with tears; she protests her innocence, and "swears in the name of the living God, that she is ignorant whence the child has come to her." It appears, that in her distress she had forgot the adventure of Gabriel:--that angel came the night following to encourage poor Joseph, then on the point of having an affair with the priests, who accused him of having begot this child to the prejudice of Mary's vow of virginity. On this the priests made the two spouses drink _of the waters of jealousy_; that is, of a potion, which, by a miracle, did them no injury; the high priest, therefore, declared them innocent. It is related in the same gospel, that after Mary had been delivered, _Salome_, refusing to credit the midwife who assured her that the delivered was still a virgin, laid her hand on Mary in order to satisfy herself of the fact. Immediately this rash hand felt itself on fire; but she was cured on taking the little Jesus in her arms. Whether these histories, or Rabbinical narratives be true or false, it is certain that the narrative of Luke, if not divested of the marvellous, will always present difficulties to the minds of the incredulous. They will ask, how God, being a pure spirit, could _overshadow a woman_, and excite in her the movements necessary to the production of a child? They will ask, how the divine nature could unite with the nature of a woman? They will maintain, that the narrative is unworthy of the power and majesty of the Supreme Being, who did not stand in need of employing ridiculous and indecent instruments to operate the salvation of mankind. It will be thought, that the Almighty should have employed other means for conveying Jesus into the womb of his mother; he might have made him appear on the earth without being incarnate in the belly of a woman; but there must be wonders in romances, especially if they are religious. It was in all ages supposed that great men were born in an extraordinary manner. Among the Heathen, Minerva sprung out of the brain of Jupiter; Bacchus was preserved in the thigh of the same god. Among the Chinese, the god Fo was generated by a virgin rendered prolific by a ray of the sun. With Christians, Jesus is born of a virgin, impregnated by the operation of the Holy Spirit, and she remains a virgin after that operation! Incapable of elevating themselves to God, men have made him descend to their own nature. Such is the origin of all incarnations, the belief of which is spread throughout the world. Theologists have agitated the question, whether in the conception of Jesus, the Virgin Mary _emiserit semen_? According to _Tillemont_, the Gnostics, who lived in the time of the apostles, denied that the Word was incarnate in the womb of the woman, and averred that it had taken a body only _in appearance_--a circumstance which must destroy the miracle of the resurrection. Basilides also maintains that Jesus was not incarnate. Lactantius, in order to establish that the spirit of God could impregnate a virgin, cites the example of the Thracian Mares, and other females, rendered prolific by the wind. Nothing is more indecent and ridiculous than the theological questions to which the birth of Jesus has given rise. Some doctors, to preserve Mary's virginity, have maintained, that Jesus did not come into the world, like other men, _aperta vulva_, but rather _per vulvam clausam_. The celebrated John Scotus regarded that opinion as very dangerous, as it would follow, that "Jesus could not be born of the virgin, but merely had come out of her." A monk of Citeaux, called Ptolemy de Luques, affirmed that Jesus was engendered near the virgin's heart, from three drops of her blood. The great St. Thomas Aquinas has examined, whether Jesus could not have been an _hermaphrodite_? and whether he could not have been of the _feminine gender_? Others have agitated the question, "Whether Jesus could have been incarnate in a cow?" We may therefore see, how one absurdity may engender others, in the prolific minds of theologists. All the wonders which precede the birth of Jesus, are terminated by a very natural occurrence. At the end of nine months his mother is delivered like other women; and after so many incredible and supernatural events, the Son of God comes into the world like all others people's children. This conformity in birth, will ever occasion the surmise of a conformity in the physical causes which produced the son of Mary. Indeed, the supernatural only can produce the supernatural; from material agents result physical effects; and they maintain in the schools, that there must always be a parity of nature between cause and effect. Though, according to Christians, Jesus was at the same time man and god, some will say, it was necessary that the divine germ brought from heaven to be deposited in the womb of Mary, should contain at the same time divinity and humanity to become Son of God. To use the language of theologists, the _hypostatic union_ of the two natures must have taken place before his birth, and immixed in the womb of his mother. In that case, we cannot conceive how it could happen, that the divine nature should continue torpid during the whole of Mary's pregnancy, in so much that she herself was ignorant of the time of her in-lying. The proof of this we find in Luke, chap. ii.--"In those days (says he) there went out a decree from Caesar Augustus, that all the world should be taxed. And as all went to be taxed, every one out of his own city, Joseph also went out of Nazareth and came to Bethlehem, to be taxed with Mary, who was great with child. And so it was, that while they were there, the days were accomplished that she should be delivered, and she brought forth her first born son, and wrapt him in swadling clothes and laid him in a manger, because there was no room for them in the inn." This narrative proves that Mary was taken unprovided, and that the Holy Spirit, who had done so many things for her, had neglected to warn her of an event so likely to interest him, and so important to all mankind. The humanity of Jesus, being subject to every casuality in our nature, might have perished in this journey, undertaken at a time very critical to his mother. Nor do we understand how the mother could remain in complete ignorance of the proximity of her time, or how the Eternal could so abandon the precious child he had deposited in her womb. Some other circumstances of the relation of Luke presents new difficulties. He speaks of a _taxing_ (enumeration) by order of Caesar Augustus:--a fact of which no mention is made by any historian, Jewish or profane. We are also astonished to find the son of God born in poverty, having no other asylum than a stable, and no other cradle than a manger; and at the tenderest age, in a rigorous season, exposed to miseries without number. It is true, our theologists have found a way to answer all these difficulties. They maintain, that a just God wishing to appease himself, destined his innocent son to afflictions, in order to have a motive for pardoning the guilty human race, which had become hateful to him through Adam's transgression, in which, however, his decendants had no share. By an act of justice, whereof the mind of man can form no idea, a God whose essence renders him incapable of committing sin, is loaded with the iniquities of man, and must expiate them in order to disarm the indignation of a father he has not offended! Such are the inconceivable principles which serve for the basis of the Christian theology. Our doctors add--It was the will of God that the birth of his son should be accompanied with the same accidents as that of other men, to console the latter for the misfortunes attendent on their existence. Man, say they, is guilty before he is born, because all children are bound to pay the debts of their fathers: thus man suffers justly as a sinner himself, and as charged with the sin of his first father.--Granting this, what more consolatory than seeing a God, innocence and holiness itself, suffering in a stable all the evils attached to indigence! That consolation would have been wanting, if God had ordained that his son should be born in splendor, and with an abundance of the comforts of life. If the innocent Jesus had not suffered, mankind, incapable of extinguishing a debt contracted by Adam, would have been forever excluded from paradise. The painful journey Mary was obliged to undertake in such critical circumstances, had been foreseen by Eternal wisdom, which had resolved that Jesus should be born at Bethlehem and not at Nazareth. It was necessary--having been foretold, it behoved to be accomplished. However solid these answers may appear to the faithful, they are not capable of convincing the incredulous, who exclaim against the injustice of making an innocent God suffer, and loading him with the iniquities of the earth. Neither can they conceive by what principle of equity the Supreme Being could make the human race responsible for a fault committed by their first parents, without their knowledge and participation. Finally, they contend that it would have been wiser to have prevented man from committing sin, than to permit him to sin, and make his own son die to expiate man's iniquity. With respect to the journey to Bethlehem, we cannot discover the necessity of it. The place where the saviour of the world was to be born, seems a circumstance perfectly indifferent to the salvation of mankind. As for the prophecy announcing the glory of Bethlehem, in having given existence to the "Leader of Israel"--it does not appear to agree with Jesus, who was born in a stable, and who was rejected by the people whose leader he was to be. It is only a pious straining that can make this prediction apply to Jesus. We are assured, that it had been foretold Jesus was to be born in poverty; while, on the other hand the messiah of the Jews is generally announced by the prophets as a prince, a hero, and a conqueror.--It is necessary to know then which of these prophecies we ought to adopt. Our doctors tell us "the predictions announcing that Jesus would be born and live in indigence and meanness, ought to be taken _literally_, and those which announce his power and glory ought to be taken _allegorically_." But this solution will not satisfy the incredulous; they will affirm, that by this manner of explanation, we may always find in the sacred writings whatever we may think we stand in need of. They will conclude that the scripture is to Christians, what the clouds are to the man who imagines he perceives in them whatever figures he pleases. CHAPTER III. ADORATION OF THE MAGI AND SHEPHERDS--MASSACRE OF THE INNOCENTS;--AND OTHER CIRCUMSTANCES, WHICH FOLLOWED THE BIRTH OF JESUS. Of the four historians of Jesus adopted by the church, two are wholly silent on the facts we are to relate in this chapter; and Matthew and Luke, who have recorded them, are not at all unanimous in particulars. So discordant are their relations, that the ablest commentators do not know how to reconcile them. These differences, it is true, are less perceptible when the evangelists are read the one after the other, or without reflection; but they become particularly striking when we take the trouble of comparing them. This is, undoubtedly, the reason why we have hitherto had no concordance of the gospels which received the general approbation of the church. Even those which have been printed have not been universally adopted, though it must be acknowledged that they contain nothing contrary to faith. It is, perhaps, from judicious policy that the heads of the church have not approved of any system on this point. They have, probably, felt the impossibility of reconciling narratives so discordant as those of the four Evangelists; for the Holy Spirit, doubtless with a view to exercise the faith of the saints, has inspired them very differently. Besides, an able concordance of the gospels would prove a dangerous work:--it would bring together facts related by authors, who, far from supporting, would reciprocally weaken each other--a circumstance which could not fail to stagger at least the faith of the compiler. Matthew, who, according to common opinion, (though a very erroneous one,) wrote the first history of Jesus, asserts, that as soon as he was born, and still in the stable at Bethlehem, Magi came from the East to Jerusalem, and inquired where the king of the Jews was, whose star they had observed in their own country. Herod, who then reigned in Judea, being informed of the motive of their journey, consulted the people of the law; and having learned that the Christ was to be born at Bethlehem, he permitted the Magi to go there, recommending to them to inform themselves of this child, that he himself might do him homage. (Matt. ii. 1.) It appears, from the narrative of Matthew, that as soon as the Magi left Herod, they took the road to Bethlehem, a place not far from Jerusalem. It is surprising that this prince, alarmed at the arrival of the Magi, who had thus announced the birth of a king of the Jews, did not use more precaution to allay his own uneasiness, and that of the capital, which the gospel represents as in a state of consternation at this grand event. It would have been very easy for him to have satisfied himself of the fact without being under the necessity of relying on strangers, who did not execute his commission. The Magi did not return; Joseph had time to save himself and his little family by flight; and Herod remained tranquil in spite of his suspicions and fears. It was not till after a considerable interval that he got into a passion on finding himself deceived; and then, to preserve his crown in safety, he ordered a general massacre of the children of Bethlehem and the neighboring villages! But why suppose such conduct in this sovereign? He had assembled the doctors of the law and principal men of the nation; their advice had confirmed the rumor spread by the wise men; they said it was at Bethlehem that Christ was to be born, and yet Herod did nothing for his own tranquility! Either Herod had faith in the prophecies of the Jews, or he had not. In the first case, and instead of relying on strangers, he ought himself to have gone with all his court to Bethlehem, and paid homage to the Saviour of the nation. In the second case, it is absurd to make Herod order a general massacre of infants, on account of a suspicion founded on a prophecy which he did not believe. This prince's indignation is said not to have been roused till after the lapse of several days, and after he perceived that the Magi derided him, and took another road. Why did he not learn by the same means the flight of Jesus, of Joseph, and of his mother? Their retreat must certainly have been observed in a place so small as Bethlehem. It will perhaps be said, that God on this occasion, permitted Herod to be blinded; but God should not have permitted the inhabitants of Bethlehem and its environs to be so obstinate in preserving a secret that was to cost the lives of all their children. Possessed of the power of working miracles, could not God have saved his son by more gentle means than the useless massacre of a great number of innocents?--On the other hand, Herod was not absolute master in Judea. The Romans would not have permitted him to exercise such cruelties; and the Jewish nation, persuaded of the birth of the Christ, would not have been accessary to them. A king of England, more absolute than a petty sovereign of Judea, dependent on the Romans, would not be obeyed, were he to order his guards to go and cut the throats of all the children in a neighboring village, because three strangers, in passing through London, had said to him, that among the infants born in that village there was one, who, according to the rules of astrology, was destined to be one day king of Great Britain. At the time when astrology was in vogue, they would have contented themselves with causing search to be made for the suspected infant; they would have kept it in solitary confinement, or perhaps put it to death; but without comprehending other innocent children in its proscription. We might oppose to the relation of Matthew the silence of the other evangelists, and especially that of the historian Josephus, who, having reasons to hate Herod, would not have failed to relate a fact so likely to render him odious as the massacre of the innocents. Philo is likewise silent on the subject; and no reason can be assigned why these two celebrated historians should have agreed in concealing a circumstance so horrible. We cannot suppose it has proceeded from hatred to the Christian religion; for that detached fact would prove neither for or against it. We are, therefore, warranted to conclude that this massacre is a fable; and that Matthew seems to have invented it merely to have the opportunity of applying as ancient prophecy, which was his predominant taste. But in this instance he has deceived himself. The prophecy which he applied to the massacre of the innocents, is taken from Jeremiah, (xxxi. v. 15 and 16.) All the Jews understood it as relating to the Babylonish captivity. It is as follows: "Thus saith the Lord; a voice was heard in Ramah, lamentation and bitter weeping: Rachel weeping for her children refused to be comforted because they were not." The following verse is so plain, that it is inconceivable why Matthew ventured to apply it to the pretended massacre at Bethlehem: "Thus saith the Lord, refrain thy voice from weeping, and thine eyes from tears; for thy work shall be rewarded, saith the Lord, and thy children shall come again from the land of the enemy." Their return from the captivity is here clearly pointed out, when the Israelites should again plant vines after obtaining possession of their own country. It is also to accomplish a prophecy, that Matthew makes Jesus travel into Egypt. This journey, or rather Jesus' return, had, according to him, been predicted by Hosea in these words: "Out of Egypt have I called my son." But it is evident, that this passage is to be considered only as relating to the deliverance of the Israelites from bondage, through the ministry of Moses. Besides, the journey and abode of Jesus in Egypt, do not agree with some circumstances which happened in his infancy, as related by Luke, who informs us, that at the end of eight days Jesus was circumcised. The time of Mary's purification being accomplished according to the law of Moses, Joseph and his mother carried Jesus to Jerusalem, to present him to the Lord agreeably to the law, which ordained the consecrating the first born (first fruits), and offering a sacrifice for them. On this occasion, Luke tells us that Simeon took the infant in his arms, and declared in the presence of those assisting at the ceremony, that the child was the Saviour of Israel. An old prophetess, called Anna, bore the same testimony, and spoke of him to all who looked for the redemption of the Jews. But why were speeches, thus publicly made in the temple of Jerusalem, in which city Herod resided, unknown to a prince so suspicious? They were much better calculated to excite his uneasiness, and awaken his jealousy than the arrival of astrologers from the East. Did Joseph and Mary, who came to Jerusalem for the presentation of Jesus, and purification of his mother, return to Bethlehem? and went they thence into Egypt in place of going to Nazareth? Luke says, that when they had performed all things according to the law of the Lord, they returned into Galilee, to their own city Nazareth. But in what time did the parents of Jesus accomplish all that the law ordained? Was it before going into Egypt, or after their return from that country, where, according to Matthew, they had taken refuge to shelter themselves from the cruelty of Herod? Did the purification of the virgin, and the presentation of her son in the temple, take place before or after the death of that wicked prince? According to Leviticus, the purification of a mother who had brought a son into the world, was to be made at the end of thirty days. Hence we see how very difficult it is to reconcile the flight into Egypt, and the massacre of the innocents, which Matthew relates, with the narrative of Luke, who says, that, "after having performed the ordinances of the law, Joseph and Mary returned into Galilee, to their own city Nazareth;" and then adds, "they went to Jerusalem every year to celebrate the passover." If we could adopt the relation of the two evangelists, at what time are we to place the coming of the Magi from the East in order to adore Jesus; the anger of Herod; the flight into Egypt; and the massacre of the innocents? Either the relation of Luke is defective, or Matthew wished to deceive his readers with improbable tales. In whatever way we consider the matter, the Holy Spirit, who inspired these apostles, will be found to have committed a mistake. There is another fact on which our two evangelists do not better agree. Matthew, as we have seen, makes the Magi come, guided by a star, to Bethlehem, from the extremity of the East, to adore the child Jesus, and offer him presents. Luke, less taken with the marvellous, makes this child adored by simple shepherds, who watched their flocks during night, and to whom an angel announced the great event of the birth of the Saviour of Israel. The latter evangelist speaks neither of the appearance of the star, of the coming of the Magi, nor of the cruelty of Herod--circumstances, however, which ought to have been recorded by Luke, who informs us that he was so exactly informed of every thing concerning Jesus. The parents of Jesus, either after their return from Egypt, or after his presentation in the temple, went to reside at Nazareth. Matthew, as usual, perceives in this the accomplishment of the prediction, _he shall be called a Nazarene_; but unfortunately for his purpose, this prophecy is not to be found in the Bible, nor can it be imagined by whom it was uttered. It is however certain, that _Nazarene_ among the Jews signified a _vagabond_, a person excluded from the rest of the world; that Nazareth was a pitiful town, inhabited by beings so wretched that their poverty had become proverbial; and that beggars, vagrants, and people whom nobody would own, were called _Nazarenes_. The first Christians were so styled. We find them also called _Ebionites_, derived from a Hebrew word which signifies a _mendicant_, a _wretch_, and a _pauper_. St. Francis and St. Dominic, who, in the 13th century, proposed to revive primitive Christianity, founded orders of mendicant monks, destined to live solely on alms, to be true _Nazarenes_, and to levy contributions on the community, which these vagabonds have never ceased to oppress. Salmeron, in order to encourage these mendicant monks, has maintained that Jesus himself was a beggar. The name Nazarene was given to the apostles and Jews, who were first converted. The other Jews regarded them as heretics and excommunicated persons; and, according to Jerome, anathematised them in all their synagogues under the name of Nazarenes. The Jews even at present give the name of Nazarenes (Nozerim) to the Christians whom the Arabs and Persians call Nazari. The first converts of Jesus and his apostles, were only some reformed Jews: they preserved circumcision and other usages appointed by the law of Moses. In this they followed the example of Jesus, who being circumcised, and a Jew during his whole life, had often taught, that it was necessary to respect and observe the law. It is, therefore, surprising to see them afterwards treated as heretics. But we shall (in chap. 17) see the true cause of this change. It was owing to Paul, whose party prevailed over Peter's, the other apostles', and the Nazarenes or Judaising Christians. Paul corrected and reformed the system of Jesus, who had preached only a Judaism reformed. The apostle of the Gentiles succeeded in making his master, and his old comrades, be rewarded as heretics, or bad Christians. Thus it is that theologists take the liberty of rectifying the religion of the Saviour they adore! We have seen, in the course of this chapter, how little harmony exists between the two evangelists respecting the circumstances attending the birth of Jesus. Let us now examine what could have been the views of these two writers in relating these facts so differently. It is impossible that Jesus, as Luke relates, could constantly reside at Nazareth till he was twelve years of age if it be true that he was carried soon after his birth into Egypt, where Matthew makes him remain until the death of Herod. Even in the time that Jesus lived, he was upbraided with his stay in Egypt. His enemies asserted that he there learned magic, to which they attributed the wonders, or cunning tricks, they saw him perform. Luke is silent as to the journey to Egypt, which made his hero suspected. He fixes him, therefore, at Nazareth, and makes him go every year with his parents to Jerusalem. But the precaution of that evangelist seems to have been useless. Matthew, who wrote before him, had established the journey and abode of Jesus in Egypt. Origen, in his dispute with Celsus, does not deny it. Hence we see, that the Christian doctors did not doubt that Jesus had been in that country, notwithstanding the silence of Luke. Let us endeavor then to develope the motives of these two writers. The Jews were agreed in the expectation of a messiah; but as the different orders of the state had their prophets, they also possessed different signs by which they were to know the deliverer. The great, the rich, and well informed persons, did not surely expect that the deliverer of Israel would be born in a stable, and spring from the dregs of the people. They, undoubtedly, anticipated their deliverance by a prince, a warrior, a man of power, able to make himself respected by the nations inimical to Judea, and to break in pieces their chains. The poor, on the contrary, who, as well as the great and the rich, have their portion of self-love, thought they might flatter themselves that the messiah would be born in their class. Their nation and their neighbors presented many examples of great men sprung from the bosom of poverty; and the oracles with which this nation was fed, were of such a nature that every family believed itself entitled to aspire to the honor of giving birth to a messiah; though the most general opinion was, that he was to come of the race of David. Shepherds, and people of the lowest order might readily believe that a woman, delivered in a stable at Bethlehem, had brought Jesus into the world. It may likewise be presumed that Mary, with a view to render herself interesting, said to those who visited her that she was descended from the blood of kings; a pretension well adapted to excite the commiseration and wonderment of the people. This secret, and the confused remembrance of some prophecies about Bethlehem, the native country of David, were sufficient to operate on the imaginations of these silly people, little scrupulous about proofs of what was told them. Matthew, who reckoned on the credulity of his readers, had his head full of prophecies and popular notions. To fill up a blank of thirty years in his history of Jesus, he contrived to make him travel into Egypt, without foreseeing the objections that might be made on account of the neglect of the holy family to fulfil the ordinances of the law; such as the circumcision of the child, his presentation in the temple, the purification of his mother, and the celebration of the passover; ceremonies which only could be performed at Jerusalem. Perhaps it is to justify the journey to Egypt, and those negligences, that Matthew introduces the prophecy of Hosea relative to the return from that place. It seems also to countenance the duration of Jesus's abode there that he relates the wrath of Herod, and the fable of the massacre of the innocents, which he makes that prince order, though his crimes had, in other respects, rendered him sufficiently odious to the Jews as well as to strangers. Mankind in general are disposed to believe every thing of a man who has become famous by his wickedness. Luke, to elude the reproaches which might be thrown on Jesus on account of his residence and journey in Egypt, has not mentioned it at all; but his silence does not destroy its reality. It was necessary to free Jesus from the suspicion of magic, but he has not cleared him of accusations brought against his birth, which are quite as weighty. Celsus, a celebrated physician, who lived in the second century of Christianity, and who had carefully collected all which had been published against Jesus, asserts that he was the fruit of an illicit intercourse. Origen, in his works against Celsus, has preserved this accusation, but he has not transmitted the proofs on which it was founded. The incredulous, however, have endeavoured to supply them, and found the opinion of Celsus on what follows: _First._ From the testimony of Matthew himself, it is most certain that Joseph was very much dissatisfied with the pregnancy of his wife, in which he had no part. He formed the design of quitting her secretly; a resolution from which he was diverted by an angel, or dream, or perhaps reflection, which always passes among Jews for the effect of an inspiration from on high. It appears, however, that this design of Joseph had transpired, and was afterwards turned into a matter of reproach against Jesus. But Luke, more prudent than Matthew, has not ventured to mention either the ill humor of Joseph, or the good-natured conduct he followed. Neither do we find, though he formed this resolution as to Mary, that this easy man again appeared on the stage from the time Jesus entered on it. We are no where informed of his death, and it is obvious that he never afterwards beheld his putative son with an eye of kindness.--When, at thirty years of age, Jesus and his mother went to the wedding at Cana, there is no mention of Joseph. If we admit with Luke, the history of Jesus's dispute with the doctors in the temple of Jerusalem, we shall find a new proof of the indifference which subsisted between the pretended father and supposed son: they met at the end of three days, and deigned not to interchange a word. Epiphanius (lib. i. 10.) assures us that Joseph was very old at the time of his marriage with the virgin, and adds that he was a widower and father of six children by his first wife.--According to the _proto-gospel_, the good man had much difficulty in prevailing on himself to espouse Mary, whose age intimidated him; but the high-priest, finding that Joseph was the man most conformable to his own views, succeeded in removing his scruples. _Secondly._ If to these presumptions are joined testimonies more positive, and a high antiquity, which confirm the suspicions entertained concerning the birth of Jesus, we shall obtain proofs that must convince every unprejudiced person. The Emperor Julian, as well as Celsus, who both had carefully examined all the writings existing in their time for and against the Christian religion and its author, represent the mother of Jesus in a very unfavorable light. In the works of the Jews, he is treated as an illegitimate child; and, almost in our days, Helvidius, a learned Protestant critic, as well as several others, have maintained, not only that Jesus was the fruit of a criminal intercourse, but also that Mary, repudiated by Joseph, had other children by different husbands. Besides, this supposed virgin did not want a reason for forsaking Joseph, and flying into Egypt with her son. A prevailing tradition among the Jews states, that she made this journey to shelter herself from the pursuits of her spouse, who, in spite of the nocturnal visions which had been employed to pacify him, might have delivered her up to the rigor of the laws. We know that the Hebrews did not understand jesting on this subject. We also find in the _Talmud_, the name of Panther, surnamed _Bar-Panther_, whom they reckon in the number of the husbands of the Virgin. From this it would appear, that Mary, repudiated by Joseph, or after her flight, espoused Panther, an Egyptian soldier, her favorite lover, and the real father of Jesus. John Damascene thought to repair the injury which this anecdote might do to Mary's reputation, by saying that the name of _Bar-Panther_ was hereditary in the family of Mary, and consequently in that of Joseph. But, _1st_, either Mary was not the kinswoman of Joseph, or she was not the cousin of Elizabeth, who was married to a priest, and therefore of the tribe of Levi.--2dly, we no where find in the Bible the name of _Panther_ among the descendants of David. If this had been an hereditary surname in that family, it would be found somewhere, unless we suppose that John Damascene learned it by a particular revelation. 3dly, The name of _Panther_ is by no means Hebrew. It will perhaps be said, that these rumours, so injurious to Jesus and his mother, are calumnies invented by the enemies of the Christian religion. But why decide if the pleas of both parties are not investigated? The imputations are very ancient; they have been advanced against Christianity ever since its origin, and they have never been satisfactorily refuted. In the time of Jesus, we find that his cotemporaries regarded his wonders as the effects of magic, the delusions of the devil, the consequences of the power of Belzebub.--The relations of Jesus were also of that opinion, and regarded him as an imposter--a circumstance stated in the gospel itself, where we shall afterwards find that they wanted to arrest him. On the other hand, Jesus never speaks of his infancy, nor of the time that had preceded his preaching:--he did not wish to recur to circumstances dishonorable to his mother, towards whom, indeed, we shall very soon find him failing in filial respect. The evangelists, in like manner, pass very slightly over the first years of their hero's life. Matthew makes him return from Egypt on the death of Herod, without mentioning in what year that happened. He thus leaves his commentators in doubt whether Jesus was then two or ten years old. We find that the term of ten years is, through complaisance, invented on account of the dispute between him and the doctors of Jerusalem, which Luke places in his twelfth year. This excepted, Jesus disappeared from the scene not to shew himself again till thirty years of age. It is difficult to discover what he did until that age. If we credit Luke, he remained at Nazareth. Yet it is clear that he was somewhere else, for the purpose of learning the part which he was afterwards to play. It has been supposed, not without reason, that Jesus passed a considerable part of his life among the contemplative _Essenians_, or _Therapeutes_, who were a kind of enthusiastic Jewish monks, living in the vicinity of Alexandria, in Egypt, where it appears he drew up his severe and monastic doctrine. If he had always resided at Nazareth, the inhabitants of that small town would have known him perfectly. Very far from this;--they were surprised at seeing him when thirty years of age. They only conjectured that they knew him; and asked each other, "Is not this the son of Joseph?"--a question very ridiculous in the mouths of persons who must have been in the constant habit of seeing Jesus in the narrow compass of their town. This does not prevent Justin from telling us, that he became a carpenter in the workshop of his pretended father, and that he wrought at buildings or instruments of husbandry. But such a profession could not long agree with a man in whom we find an ambitious and restless mind. The _Gospel_ of the _Infancy_ informs us, that Jesus, when young, amused himself with forming small birds of clay, which he afterwards animated, and then they flew into the air. The same book says, that he knew more than his schoolmaster, whom he killed for having struck him, because Jesus refused to read the letters of the alphabet. We find also, that Jesus assisted Joseph in his labors, and by a miracle lengthened the pieces of wood, when cut too short or too narrow. All these extravagancies are not more difficult to believe than many other wonders related in the acknowledged gospels. We shall here quit Luke in order to follow Matthew, who places the baptism of John after the return from Egypt, and makes Jesus forthwith commence his mission. It is at this epoch, perhaps, that we ought to begin the life of Jesus.--Yet, to let nothing be lost to the reader of the evangelical memoirs, we thought it our duty not to pass over in silence the circumstances which have been noticed, as these preliminaries are calculated to throw much light on the person and actions of Jesus. Besides, the interval between his birth and preaching has not been the part of his history least exposed to the darts of criticism. Matthew, as we have seen, to account for his master's absence during the thirty years, makes him go into Egypt, and return in an unlimited time. Luke, who digested his memoirs after Matthew, perceiving that the abode in Egypt cast a suspicion of magic on the miracles of Jesus, makes him remain in Galilee, going and coming every year to Jerusalem; and making him appear, at the age of twelve, in the capital, in the midst of the doctors, and debating with them. But Mark and John, profiting by the criticism which these different arrangements had experienced, make the messiah drop as it were from the clouds, and put him instantly to labor at the great work of man's salvation. It is thus that, on combining and comparing the several relations, we are enabled to discover the true system of the Gospels, in which, without adopting any alterations, we shall find materials for composing the life of Jesus by merely reducing the marvellous to its proper value. CHAPTER IV. BAPTISM OF JESUS--HIS ABODE IN THE DESERT--COMMENCEMENT OF HIS PREACHING AND MIRACLES--MARRIAGE AT CANA. From the time the Romans subdued Judea, the superstitious inhabitants of that country, impatient to see the arrival of the messiah so often promised to their fathers, seemed inclined to quicken the slowness of the Eternal by the ardor of their desires. This disposition of mind gave birth to impostures, revolts, and disturbances; the authors of which the Roman power punished in such a manner as to discourage their adherents, or quickly to disperse them. Down to the era we are about to speak of, (which the gospel of Luke fixes at the fifteenth year of the reign of Tiberius,) none of those who had attempted to pass for the messiah had been able to succeed. To have acted that part well required forces more considerable than those which all Judea could oppose to the conquerors of the world. It was, therefore, necessary to have recourse to craft, and to employ delusions and trick instead of force. For this purpose, it was of importance to be fully acquainted with the disposition of the Jewish nation; to affect a great respect for its laws and usages, for which it entertained the most profound veneration; to profit ingeniously by the predictions with which the were imbued; to move the passions, and warm the imaginations of that fanatical and credulous people. But all this behoved to be silently effected; it was necessary for him who attempted it, to avoid rendering himself suspected by the Romans; it was necessary to be on his guard against the priests, doctors, and persons of education, capable of penetrating and thwarting his designs. It was essential to commence with gaining adherents and co-operators, and thereafter a party among the people, to support him against the grandees of the nation. Policy required that he should shew himself rarely in the capital, to preach in the country, and render odious to the populace, priests who devoured the nation, nobles who oppressed it, and rich people of whom it ought to be naturally jealous. Not to alarm too much, prudence demanded that he should speak in ambiguous language and in parables. Neither could he dispense with working miracles, which, much more than all the harangues in the world, were calculated to seduce ignorant devotees, disposed to see the finger of God in every act the true cause of which they were unable to comprehend. Such was the conduct of the personage whose life we examine. Whether we suppose that he had been in Egypt for the purpose of acquiring the talents necessary to his views, or that he had always resided at Nazareth, Jesus was not ignorant of the dispositions of his countrymen. As he knew how much predictions were requisite to work on the minds of the Jews, he made choice of a prophet and a forerunner in the person of his cousin John Baptist. The latter, evidently in concert with Jesus, preached repentance, baptized on the banks of Jordan, and announced the coming of a personage greater than himself. He said to those who gave ear to him, "I indeed baptize you with water unto repentance: but he that cometh after me is mightier than I, the latchet of whose shoe I am not worthy to loose: he shall baptize you with the Holy Ghost and with fire." Jesus accordingly repaired to John on purpose to arrange matters with him, and to receive baptism from his hands. According to the report of Matthew, John, at first, evinced some difficulty; affirming, that, so far from being worthy to baptize Jesus, it was from him that he himself ought to receive baptism. At last, however, he yielded to the orders of Jesus, and administered to him the sacrament of which the innocent son of God could not stand in need. In this interview, the two kinsmen evidently settled their plans, and took the necessary measures for insuring success. They both had ambition, and shared the mission between them. John yielded the first character to Jesus, whom he judged better qualified to play it with success, and contented himself with being his precursor, preaching in the desert, beating up for followers, and preparing the ways for him--all in consequence of a prophecy of Isaiah, who had said, "Prepare ye the way of the Lord, make straight in the desert a highway for our God"--an obscure and vague prediction, in which, however, Christians believe they see clearly designated the messiah and his holy precursor. The arrangements being once settled by our two missionaries, John took care to tell those who came to hear him, that, to pacify Heaven, it was time to repent; that the arrival of the messiah was not far off; and that he had seen him. The sermons of John having made considerable noise, the priests of Jerusalem, vigilant as to what might interest religion, and wishing to be informed of his views, dispatched emissaries after him. These men asked if he was the Christ, or Elias, or a prophet. John answered, that he was neither of these. But when he was questioned by what authority he baptized and preached, he declared, that he was the forerunner of the messiah. This proceeding of the priests only tended to give greater weight to John's assertions, and naturally excited the curiosity of the people assembled to hear him. The next day they went in a crowd to the place where the preacher baptized, when, profiting skilfully by the circumstance, and perceiving Jesus approaching, he exclaimed, "Behold the Lamb of God, which taketh away the sin of the world. This is he of whom I said, after me cometh a man who is preferred before me." The author of the gospel ascribed to John, perceiving that it was important to remove the suspicion of collusion between Jesus and his forerunner, makes the Baptist declare twice, that he knew him not before baptizing him: but that it had been revealed to him by the Deity, that the person on whom he should see the Holy Spirit descending during his baptism, was the son of God. Whence we see that, according to this evangelist, John did not know Jesus, who was, however, his kinsman, according to Luke. John was much esteemed by the people, whom an austere and extraordinary life is always certain of seducing.--They did not suspect that a missionary so detached from the things of this world, could ever deceive them. They believed on his word, that the Holy Spirit, under the form of a dove, had descended on Jesus, and that he was the Christ or messiah promised by the prophets. On another occasion we shall also find John affecting not to know his cousin Jesus: he deputed some of his disciples to learn _who he was_? Jesus replied, that they had only to relate to John the miracles he performed, and by that sign their master would recognize him. We shall afterwards speak of this embassy. Jesus had associated with him a confident, then called Simon, and afterwards Cephas or Peter, who had been the disciple of John. Scarcely had Simon taken his arrangements with the messiah, when he drew over his brother Andrew to the new sect. These two brothers were fishermen. We readily presume that Jesus would not choose his followers among the grandees of the country. The progress of John Baptist, and the attachment of the people to him, alarmed the priests; they complained loudly, and John was arrested by order of the tetrarch Herod, who, according to Matthew, caused him to be beheaded to please Herodias his sister-in-law. Yet we do not find the historians of this prince reproaching him with the punishment of the forerunner. After John's death, his disciples attached themselves to Jesus, whose coming John had announced, and who, in his turn, had rendered in behalf of John the most public testimonies in presence of the people: for Jesus had openly declared, that John was "greater than a prophet, and greater than an angel, and that he was not born of woman who was greater than him." Nevertheless, the messiah, dreading to be involved in the affair of his forerunner, left his two disciples at Jerusalem, and withdrew into the desert, where he continued forty days. It has been remarked, that during the imprisonment of John, Jesus did not think of delivering him; he performed no miracle in his behalf; after his death he spoke but little of him, and forebore pronouncing his eulogy. He was no longer in need of him, and, perhaps, he wished by this conduct to teach those who serve the views of the ambitious in a subordinate capacity, that they ought not to reckon too much on gratitude. It would have been a bad exordium to assign fear as the motive of the messiah's retreat. We are told that he was _carried up by the Spirit_, which transported him to the desert. It was necessary that Jesus should surpass his forerunner. The latter had led a very austere life, his only nourishment being locust and wild honey; but the gospel affirms, that Jesus ate _nothing at all_ during his retreat, and that on the last day, having _felt himself hungry_, angels came and ministered to him. The fasting of Jesus for forty days, is considered by his followers as a proof of his divinity. But this abstinence falls far short of that practised by a Talapoin at Siam, who, according to La Loubere, "lived satisfactorily without food for _one hundred and seven days_!" To evince the importance of his mission, the prejudice which it was to occasion to the empire of the devil, and the infinite advantages which were to result from it to his followers, Jesus, on his return from the desert, pretended that Satan had tempted him; made the most flattering offers to engage him to desist from his enterprise; and proffered him the monarchy of the universe, if he would renounce his project of redeeming the human race. The refusal he gave to these propositions, evinced a supernatural desire to labor for the salvation of the world. Such as heard these details must have been filled with astonishment, penetrated with gratitude, and burning with zeal for the preacher. Of consequence, the number of his adherents increased. John the Evangelist, or the person who has written, under his name, whose object appears to have been to establish the divinity of Jesus, has not mentioned his carrying away, abode in the desert, and temptation. These transactions must have been considered by him prejudicial to the doctrine he wished to introduce. Matthew, Mark, and Luke, relate the carrying away, and the temptations in a different manner, but calculated to show the power of Satan over the messiah. He transported him, no doubt in spite of himself, to the pinnacle of the temple; and by a miracle, made Jesus contemplate, from the summit of a mountain, all the kingdoms of the universe, without even excepting those whose inhabitants were _antipodes_ of Judea. According to the gospels, the devil worked marvels, which far surpassed those of Jesus. The absence of Jesus made him lose for a time, his two disciples Peter and Andrew. The necessity of providing for their subsistence, constrained them to resume their former trade. As their master durst not then reside in Jerusalem, he retired towards the banks of the sea of Galilee, where they joined him. "Follow me, (said he to them,) leave your nets; of catchers of fish I will make you fishers of men." He, probably, made them understand, that the arrangements he had made during his retirement, furnished him with the means of subsisting, without toil, by the credulity of the vulgar. The two brothers immediately followed him. Whether Jesus had been expelled from Nazareth by his fellow citizens, or quitted it of his own accord, he fixed his residence at Capernaum, a maritime city, on the confines of the tribes of Zabulon and Naphtali. His mother, a widow, or separated from her husband, followed him: she could be useful to Jesus and the little troop of adherents who lived with him. It was at this time that our hero, seconded by his disciples, opened his mission. His sermon, like that of the Baptist, consisted in saying, _Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand_. John, we have seen, commenced preaching in the fifteenth year of Tiberius. It was in the same year that his interview with Jesus took place, when he was baptized by John. Towards the end of this year John disappeared: after which Jesus was in the desert, whence he returned to reside with his mother in the city of Capernaum. There he remained a short time only on account of the approach of the festival of the passover, to celebrate which he repaired to Jerusalem. We may, therefore, fix the commencement of his preaching in the sixteenth year of Tiberius. He celebrated the passover three times before his death; and the common opinion is, that his preaching lasted three years, or until the nineteenth year of Tiberius. The rumours excited by the baptism and preaching of John, and the testimonies he bore in behalf of Jesus, having died away on the imprisonment and death of the forerunner, and flight of the messiah, the latter resumed courage, and thought that, with the assistance of his disciples, he ought to make a new attempt. Too well known at Nazareth, and slighted by his relations, who, on all occasions, seemed to think but little of him, he quitted that ungrateful city to establish himself, as we have remarked, at Capernaum, in the sixteenth year of Tiberius. It was there that he commenced preaching his new system to some poor fishermen, and other low people. He soon found, however, that his mission was too circumscribed in that place: but to acquire some eclat, he judged it necessary to perform a miracle; that is, in the language of the Jews, some trick capable of exciting the wonder of the vulgar. An opportunity occurred for this: some inhabitants of Cana, a small village Of Galilee Superior, at the distance of about fifteen leagues from Capernaum, invited Jesus and his mother to a wedding. The married persons were poor, though John, who alone relates this story, gives them a steward; yet he tells us that their wine failed at the moment the guests were half intoxicated, or gay. On this Mary, who knew the power or the dexterity of her son, said to him: _They have no wine._ Jesus answered her very roughly, and in a manner which evidently denoted a man warmed with wine: _Woman, what have I to do with thee?_ It may, however, be supposed, that Jesus had not totally lost the use of his reason, as he still possessed presence of mind to transmute water into wine, so that the miraculous wine was found better than the natural wine they had drank at the beginning. This first miracle of Jesus was performed in presence of a great number of persons, already half intoxicated; but the text does not inform us, whether they were equally astonished the day following, when the fumes of the wine were dissipated. Perhaps this miracle was witnessed by the steward only, with whom Jesus had secret intelligence. The incredulous, less easily persuaded than the poor inebriated villagers, do not observe in this transmutation of water into wine, a motive for being convinced of the divine power of Jesus. They remark, that in the operation, he employed water in order to make his wine; a circumstance which may give room to suspect, that he made only a composition, of which be, like many others, might have the secret. There was in fact, no more power necessary to create wine, and fill the pitchers without putting water into them, than to make an actual transmutation or water into wine. At least, by acting in this manner, he would have removed the suspicion of having made only a mixture. In whatever manner the miracle was performed, it appears to have made some impression on those who saw it, or who heard it related. It is certain Jesus profited by it to extend his mission even to the capital of Judea; only giving time for his miracle to spread, in order to produce its effect. In expectation of this, he withdrew with his mother, brothers, and disciples, to Capernaum, where he remained till the festival of the passover (the time of which was near) should collect at Jerusalem a multitude of people, before whom he flattered himself with being able to operate a great number of marvels. CHAPTER V. JOURNEY OF JESUS TO JERUSALEM.--THE SELLERS DRIVEN OUT OF THE TEMPLE.--CONFERENCE WITH NICODEMUS. The noise of the miracle at Cana having reached Jerusalem, by means of those who repaired to that city from Galilee, Jesus went there, accompanied by some of his disciples; but of the number of the latter we are ignorant. It was, as has been mentioned, the time of the passover, and consequently, a moment when almost the whole nation were assembled in the capital. Such an occasion was favorable for working miracles. John accordingly affirms that Jesus performed a great number, without, however, detailing any of them. Several of the witnesses of Jesus' power believed in him, according to our historian; but he did not place much confidence in them. The reason given for this by John, is, "Because he knew all men, and needed not that any should testify of man; for he knew what was in man." In short, he knew every thing except the means of giving to those who saw his miracles the dispositions he desired. But, how reconcile faith in these new converts, in the wonders performed by Jesus, with the bad dispositions they were known to possess? If he knew the state of mind of these witnesses of his miracles, why perform them with certain loss? In this there is a want of just inference in the writer, which must not, however, be imputed to Jesus. It is perhaps better not to refer to John in this matter, than to believe that his sagacious master would perform miracles without design, or for the sole pleasure of working them. In the same journey to Jerusalem, Jesus performed an exploit which is as great as a miracle, and evinces a powerful arm. According to an ancient usage, merchants had established themselves, especially during the solemn festivals, under the porticos which environed the temple. They furnished victims and offerings to the devout, which they were to present to the Lord, in order to accomplish the ordinances of the law; and, for the accommodation of the Jews who repaired thither from different countries, and for their own interest, the priests had permitted the money changers to fix their stalls in this place. Jesus, who on every occasion shewed himself but little favorable to the clergy, was shocked at this usage, which, far from being criminal, tended to facilitate the accomplishment of the Mosaical law. He made a scourge of ropes, and, displaying a vigorous arm on those merchants, drove them into the streets, frightened their cattle, and overturned the counters, without their being able to oppose his enterprise. It may be conjectured, that the people had no reason to be displeased with the disturbance, but profited by the money and effects which Jesus overturned in the paroxysm of his zeal. No doubt his disciples did not forget themselves: their master could by this exploit make provision for them, especially if they had been in the secret, and enable them to defray all expenses during their residence in the capital. Besides, they saw in this event the accomplishment of a prophecy of the Psalmist, who foretold, that the Messiah would be "eaten up with the zeal of the house of the Lord"--a prophecy that was clearly verified by the uproar which Jesus had occasioned. It would appear that the brokers had not comprehended the mystic sense of this prediction; at least they did not expect to see it verified at their expense. In their first surprise, they neglected to oppose the unexpected attacks of a man who must have appeared to them a maniac; but, on recovering from their astonishment, they complained to the magistrates of the loss they had sustained. The magistrates, afraid, perhaps, of weakening their authority by punishing a man of whom the people had become the accomplice, or a fanatic whose zeal might be approved by the devotees, did not wish to use rigor for this time; they contented themselves with sending to Jesus to know from himself by what authority he acted--"What sign (said they) shewest thou unto us, seeing that thou doest these things?" On which Jesus answered, "Destroy this temple, and in three days I will raise it up." But the Jews were not tempted to make the trial;--they took him for a fool, and returned, shrugging their shoulders. If they had taken Jesus at his word, they would have experienced great embarrassment; for the gospel informs us, that it was not of the temple of Jerusalem he spoke, but of his own body. He meant his resurrection, says John, which was to happen three days after his death. The Jews had not discernment to divine this enigma, and the disciples did not penetrate its true meaning till a long time after, when they pretended their master had risen from the dead. We cannot forbear admiring that Providence, which, wishing to instruct, enlighten, and convert the Jewish people by the mouth of Jesus, employed only figures, allegories, and enigmatical symbols, totally inexplicable by persons the most ingenious and most experienced. Though Jesus had the power of raising himself from the dead, he did not wish to employ it when in the hands of the Jews, who were ready to arrest and punish him as a disturber of the public repose. He thought it more prudent to decamp without noise, and shelter himself from the pursuit of those whom his brilliant exhibitions might have displeased. He intended to withdraw from Jerusalem during night, when a devout Pharisee, wishing to be instructed, came to see him. He was called Nicodemus, and held the place of senator--a rank which does not always exempt from credulity. "Rabbi, (said he to Jesus,) we know that thou art a teacher sent from God; for no man can do these miracles that thou doest, except God be with him." This opportunity was favorable for Jesus to declare himself: by a single word he could have decided on his divinity, and acknowledged, before this senator so kindly disposed, that he was God. Yet he evaded a direct answer; contenting himself with saying to Nicodemus, that nobody can share in the kingdom of God unless he be born again. The astonished proselyte exclaimed, that it was impossible for a man already old to be born again, or enter anew into his mother's womb. On which Jesus replied: "I say unto thee, except a man be born of water and of the spirit, he cannot enter into the kingdom of God." It appears, that Nicodemus was no better satisfied than before. Jesus, to make himself more perspicuous, added, "that which is born of the flesh is flesh, and that which is born of the spirit is spirit. Marvel not, that I said unto thee, ye must be born again--The wind bloweth where it listeth, and thou hearest the sound thereof, but canst not tell whence it cometh, nor whither it goeth: so is every one that is born of the spirit." Notwithstanding the precision and plainness of these instructions, (resembling the reasoning of our theologians,) Nicodemus, whose understanding was doubtless shut up, did not comprehend any part of them. "How (asks he) can these things be?" Here Jesus, pushed to extremity, grew warm:--"Art thou (says he) a master of Israel, and knowest not these things? Verily, verily, I say unto thee, we speak that we do know, and testify that we have seen, and ye receive not our witness. If I have told you earthly things and ye believe not, how shall ye believe if I tell you of heavenly things? And no man hath ascended up to heaven but he that came down from heaven, even the son of man which is in heaven." (John iii. 1-13.) We thought it our duty to relate this curious dialogue, as a specimen of the logic of Jesus; the more so as it seems to have served as a model for the fashion of reasoning observed by Christian doctors, who are in the use of explaining obscure things by things still more obscure and unintelligible. They terminate all disputes by referring the decision to their own testimony; that is, to the authority or the church or clergy, entrusted by God himself with regulating what the faithful ought to believe. The rest of the conversation of Jesus with Nicodemus is equally perspicuous, and in the same style:--The former alone speaks, and appears by the dint of his reasons to have silenced the docile senator, who, it seems, retired fully convinced. Thus it is, that _faith_ disposes the elect to yield to the lessons, dogmas, and mysteries of religion even when it is impossible to attach any meaning to the words they hear pronounced. There is no further mention of Nicodemus--We know not whether he resigned his office of Senator to enrol himself among the disciples of Jesus. Perhaps he was contented with secretly furnishing necessaries to his adherents, in gratitude for the luminous instructions he had received. He evidently knew how to profit by them, for John makes him return after the death of Jesus, bringing a hundred pounds of aloes and myrrh, for the purpose of embalming his body, and then interring it, with the assistance of Joseph of Arimathea. This proves that he had come from his conversation with Jesus a more able theologist than he had begun it. On this occasion, Jesus must have granted him saving grace, without which it would have been impossible to comprehend any of his sublime dogmas. According to theology, men have occasion for _supernatural grace_ to do good. This doctrine is injurious to sound morality. Men always wait for the call from above to do good, and those who direct them, never employ the _calls from below_; that is the natural motives to excite them to virtue. But the clergy cannot give a correct definition of virtue. They say it is an effect of grace that disposes men to do that which is agreeable to the Divinity. But what is grace? How does it act on man? What is it that is agreeable to God? Wherefore doth not God give to all men the grace to do that which is agreeable in his eyes? We are unceasingly told to do good, _because God requires_ it; but no one has been able to teach us what that good is which is acceptable to the Almighty, and by the performance of which we shall obtain his approbation. It must be acknowledged, that the impossibility of comprehending the doctrine of Jesus furnishes a good reason for denying that it can be divine. It cannot be conceived why a God, sent to instruct men, should never distinctly explain himself. No Pagan oracle employed terms more ambiguous, than the divine missionary chosen by Providence to enlighten nations. In this the Deity appears to have made it his study to create obstacles to his projects, and to have laid a snare not only for the Jews, but for all those who must read the gospel to obtain salvation; a conduct equally unworthy of a good and just God, endowed with prescience and wisdom; yet by faith we may succeed in reconciling every thing, and readily comprehend why God should speak without wishing to be understood. As soon as Jesus had quitted Nicodemus, he left Jerusalem, his abode in which had become very dangerous, and wandered through the country of Judea, where he enjoyed greater safety. The uproar he had occasioned in the capital, where so great a multitude were assembled, had not failed to make him known to many; but it was at a distance that he gained the greatest number of partisans. John informs us, in chapter third, that during this period he baptized; thereafter he tells us, in chapter fourth, that he did _not_ baptize, but that his disciples baptized for him. One thing is certain, that, after this, he quitted Judea to go into Galilee. It was, perhaps, to be more private, or to prevent the schism, which, according to the gospel, was ready to take place between the Jews baptized by John, and those whom Jesus and his disciples had baptized. Jesus conceived that prudence required him to remain at a distance, and to leave the field open to a man who was useful to him, and who contented himself with playing the second part under him. It very soon appeared that Jesus made a greater number of proselytes than his cousin; a circumstance which, in the end, might have created a misunderstanding between them. Jesus therefore directed his march towards Samaria, whither we are to follow him, and thence he passed into Galilee. CHAPTER VI. ADVENTURE OF JESUS WITH THE FEMALE SAMARITAN--HIS JOURNEY AND MIRACLES IN THE COUNTRY OF THE GERASENES. It may be observed that in this examination of the history of Jesus, we follow the most generally received arrangement of facts, without meaning to guarantee that they occurred precisely in that order. Chronological mistakes are not of much importance when they do not influence the nature of events. Besides, the evangelists, without fixing any eras, content themselves with saying _at that time_, which precludes our giving an exact chronology of the following transactions. Precision would require a labor as immense as superfluous, and tend only to shew that the history of Jesus, dictated by the Holy Spirit, is more incorrect than that of celebrated Pagans of an antiquity more remote. It would also prove that the inspired writers contradict themselves every instant, by making their hero act at the same time in different places, and often remote from each other. On the other hand, this great labor would not inform us which of the evangelists we ought to prefer, seeing all in the eyes of faith have truth on their side. Time and place do not change the nature of facts; and it is from these facts we must form our ideas of the legislator of the Christians. Jesus having commenced his journey in the summer season, felt oppressed with thirst near Sichar, in the country of Samaria, which gave rise to a singular adventure. Near this city there was a well, known by the name of Jacob's fountain. Fatigued with his journey, Jesus sat down on the brink of the well, waiting the return of his disciples, who had gone to the city for provisions. It was about noon, when a female came to draw water. Jesus asked her to let him drink out of the vessel she held; but the Samaritan, who knew from his countenance that he was a Jew, was astonished at his request, as there was no intercourse between the orthodox Jews and the Samaritans. According to the custom of partisans of different sects, they detested each other most cordially. The messiah, who was not so fastidious as the ordinary Jews, undertook the conversion of the female heretic, for whose sex we find in him a strong attachment through the whole course of his history. "If thou knewest," said he to her, "the gift of God, and who it is that saith to thee, give me to drink, thou wouldst have asked of him, and he would have given thee living water." The Samaritan woman, who did not observe Jesus to have any vessel in his hand, asked whence he could draw the living water of which he spoke? On this the messiah, assuming a mysterious tone, answered, "Whoso drinketh of this well shall thirst again, but whosoever drinketh of the water that I shall give him, shall never thirst; It shall be in him a well of water springing up into everlasting life." The female, who was a dame of easy virtue, asked some of that marvellous water; and Jesus, from this discourse having discovered the profession of the woman, ingeniously got off by telling her to go and seek her husband; calculating, perhaps, on being able to steal away when she was gone. But the lady related to him her life; gave some details of her conduct; and thereby enabled him to conjecture enough of it to speak as a conjuror. Accordingly, he told her that she had had five husbands; that she had none at that time, and that the man with whom she lived was only a gallant. The Samaritan woman took Jesus for a sorcerer or a prophet; he did not deny it; and as he was not then afraid of being stoned or punished, he made bold for the first time to confess that he was the messiah. They were at this part of their dialogue, when the return of Jesus' disciples put an end to it. The latter, whether they knew the profession of the loquacious dame, or were more intolerant than their master, were surprised at the tete-a-tete; yet none of them ventured to criticise the conduct of Jesus; while the Samaritan woman seeing his retinue believed in reality that he was a prophet or the messiah. Leaving her pitcher, she went directly to Sichar, "Come and see," said she to the inhabitants, "a man who told me all things that ever I did; is not this the Christ?"--The astonished inhabitants went and met Jesus; and charmed with hearing him preach, without comprehending one word of his discourse, they invited him to come and reside with them. He yielded to their request for two days only: the provisions purchased were put up in reserve, and the troop lived during that time at the cost of these heretics, delighted no doubt with defraying the expenses of the Saviour and his followers. All the marvellous in this adventure turns on Jesus having divined that the Samaritan lady had had five husbands, and lived at that time in criminal intercourse with a favorite. Yet it is easy to perceive that Jesus could learn this anecdote either in his conversation with the prating dame, or by public rumor, or in some other very easy way. But unbelievers find another reason for criticising this relation of John. Laying aside the marvellous, they attack the _truth_ of the transaction. All history attests, that in the time of Jesus, Samaria was peopled by colonies of different nations, which the Assyrians had transported thither after the destruction of the kingdom of Israel. This would seem to exclude the expectation of the messiah, in which, according to John, the Samaritans lived. Pagans and Idolators could not have very distinct notions of an event peculiar to Judea. If the Samaritans were the descendants of Jacob, it was not necessary to put into the mouth of the Samaritan woman these words, "Our fathers worshipped in this mountain, and ye say, Jerusalem is the place where men ought to worship." It was also absurd to make Jesus say, "ye shall no more worship the Father, either in this mountain or at Jerusalem; ye worship ye know not what;" for the law of Moses does not forbid the worshipping God in whatever place we may find ourselves. In the time of Jesus, the laws or usages of the Jews required, that none should offer sacrifice any where, except in the temple of the capital; but the places of prayer depended on every man's own will and pleasure. It is, besides, absurd to say, that the descendants of Jacob did not know the God whom they adored to be Jehovah, the God of Moses and of the Jews; unless it is pretended, that they did not know whom they worshipped. Since the mission of Jesus, Christians have undoubtedly nothing to reproach them with on this head. Moreover the words of Jesus seem to insinuate, that he wished to abolish the worship of the Father. It is certain that Christians share their homage between him and his Son, which, faith a part, annihilates the dogma of the unity of God. Finally, Jesus did not conjecture right in saying, that the Father would be no longer worshipped at Jerusalem, or on the mountain; for this Father has not ceased one instant to be worshipped there for these eighteen centuries, by Jews, by Christians, and by Mahometans. If it is maintained, that the Samaritan woman was a heathen, it is not likely that she would have regarded Jesus as the messiah, whom she neither knew nor expected. Add to this, that the Samaritans believed in Jesus on the word of a courtezan; a credulity of which Jews and Christians only could be susceptible. Jesus and his disciples were Jews, and in that character excluded from Samaria. It is of no import, therefore, by whom the country was inhabited. Two days having elapsed, and the people of Sichar being, in all appearance, sufficiently instructed, Jesus quitted their city, and with his disciples took the road of Upper Galilee. In this journey, Jesus considering the hostile disposition of his countrymen, thought proper not to enter Nazareth, the place of his nativity. He applied to himself the famous proverb, _a prophet has no honor in his own country_. It was otherwise in the rest of the province:--as soon as the people knew of his arrival, they gave him welcome. Luke assures us that he was esteemed and honored by every body. These good people had beheld the wonders which he had operated in Jerusalem, during the festival of the passover. In gratitude for these favorable dispositions, and for the faith he found among the Galileans, Jesus did not content himself with instructing them, but confirmed his mission, and testified his love by a crowd of prodigies. The number was, doubtless, very great, as Matthew is constrained to say generally, that he healed all manner of sickness, and all manner of disease among the people; and that it was sufficient to obtain a cure, to present to him the sick, whatever might be their disease. Lunatics, whose number was great in that country; idiots, hypochondriacs, and persons possessed with devils, had but to fly to him for relief, and their cure was certain. This multitude of miracles, for so they style the cures operated by Jesus, drew after him a crowd of idlers and vagabonds from Galilee, Jerusalem, Decapolis, Judea, and the country beyond Jordan. It was in this journey he obtained two famous disciples: they were brothers, sons of a fisherman of the name of Zebedee, and called James and John. The first, though, probably, he could not read, afterwards composed mystical works, which are at this day revered by Christians. With respect to John, he was the favorite of his master, and received from him marks of distinguished attention. He afterwards became a sublime Platonist, and, through gratitude, deified Jesus in the gospels and epistles published in his name. The reputation and resources of Jesus were so great in Galilee, that, to increase the number of his followers, it was only necessary for him to open his mouth and speak. The two disciples already mentioned, he called with an intention to keep near his person. Wishing, however, to repose after the fatigues of preaching and performing miracles, he resolved to quit the cities and retire to the sea coast. He conjectured, that to make himself desirable, and not exhaust his credit, it was prudent not to suffer himself to be seen too long or too near. The people, fond of hearing the wonderful sermons of Jesus, followed him. Pressed by the crowd, he happily perceived two vessels; and stepping into the one belonging to Simon Peter, he harangued the eager multitude from it. Thus the boat of a fisherman became a pulpit, whence the Deity uttered his oracles. The Galileans were not rich, and, accordingly, the troop of Jesus' adherents augmented. We find his four first apostles laboring in their trade of fishermen during the abode of the messiah in the province. The day on which he preached in the vessel had not been fortunate for them; and the night preceding was not more favorable. Jesus, who knew more than one profession, thought that it behoved him to do something for people who shewed so much zeal. When, therefore, he had finished his harangue and the crowd had retired, he bade Simon advance into the middle of the water and cast his net; the latter excused himself, saying, that he had already thrown several times without success. But Jesus insisted:--then said Simon, _I will cast it on thy word_: on which, by an astonishing miracle, the net broke on all sides. Simon and Andrew were unable to drag it out, they called their comrades, and drew out of it fishes enough to fill two ships. Our fishermen were so surprised, that Peter took his master for a wizard, and prayed him to depart. But Jesus encouraged him, and promised not to alarm them again, seeing that henceforth he, Peter, should no longer occupy himself with catching fish, but men. The messiah finding himself near Cana, judged it proper, as he had once performed a miracle there, to enter that place. An officer of Capernaum, whose son was sick of a fever, repaired to this village on purpose to try the remedies of Jesus, of whose powers so many persons boasted. He entreated the physician to come to his house and cure his son; but our Esculapius, who did not chuse to operate before eyes too clear-sighted, got rid of this importunate person in such a way as not to incur any risk, in case he should not succeed: Go, said he to the officer, _thy son liveth_. The officer, while approaching his own habitation, learned that the fever, which perhaps was intermittent, had left his son. No more was necessary to cry up the miracle, and convert all the family. After having traversed the sea coast, and made some stay at Cana, Jesus repaired to Capernaum, where, as has been related, he fixed his residence. The family of Simon Peter was established in that city; and it was no doubt this reason, joined with the bad treatment he had received from the inhabitants of Nazareth, that determined Jesus to make choice of this residence. It appears he was abhorred in the city where he had been educated; for as soon as he attempted to preach there, the people wanted to throw him headlong. At Capernaum they listened to and admired him; he harangued in the synagogue, explained the scripture, and showed that he himself was foretold in it. In the midst of his sermon, one Sabbath day, they brought him a person possessed, who perhaps in concert with him, began to cry out with all his might; "Let us alone: what have we to do with thee, thou Jesus of Nazareth? Art thou come to destroy us? I know thee who thou art, the holy one of God." The people waited in terror for the issue of this adventure, when Jesus, certain of his ground, addressed himself not to the man, but to the devil possessing him: "Hold thy peace," said he, "and come out of him." Immediately the malign spirit overturned the possessed, threw him into horrible convulsions, and disappeared without any person seeing him. Physicians, especially those acquainted with the eastern countries, do not admit miracles of the nature of this one. They know that the diseases considered _possessions_, were owing solely to disorders produced in the brain by excessive heat. These maladies were frequent in Judea, where superstition and ignorance impeded the progress of medicine and all useful knowledge. Out of that country we find but few possessed with devils. This incredulity strips Jesus of a great number of his miracles; yet taking away the _possessions_, there still remain enough. Most of the possessed among us are hypochondriacs, maniacs, hysterical women, melancholy persons, and those tormented with the vapors or spasms; or they are impostors, who, to gain money, to interest the simple and to display the power of the priests, consent to receive the devil, that the clergy may have the glory of expelling him. There is scarcely a possession now-a-days which could resist a flogging. Miracles are food for the imagination, but the body requires more substantial aliments: the adventure which has been related had led to the hour of dinner. On leaving the synagogue, Jesus was invited to the house of Peter, where every thing appears to have been prepared for performing a second miracle. The mother-in-law of Simon felt sick at the moment they had need of her in managing the kitchen. Jesus, who possessed the talent of readily curing the relatives of his disciples, took her by the hand, and made her rise from her bed: she arose completely cured, cooked the victuals, and was in a condition to serve the guests. In the evening of the same day, they brought Jesus all the sick in Capernaum, and all the possessed, whom, according to Matthew, he cured by some words; but, according to Luke, by laying hands on them. Several devils, on coming out of the possessed, had the impudence to betray the secret of the physician, and openly declare, that he was "Christ the Son of God." This indiscretion displeased Jesus, who wished, or feigned to wish, to keep private. Luke tells us that "he rebuked them, and suffered them not to speak, for they knew that he was Christ." According to theologists, the Son of God, in all his conduct, had in view only to lead the devil astray, and conceal from him the mystery of redemption: Yet we see, that Jesus was never able to deceive his cunning enemy. In the whole gospel system, the devil is more sly and powerful than both God the Father and God the Son: he is always successful in thwarting their designs, and succeeds in reducing God the Father to the dire necessity of making his dear Son die in order to repair the evil which Satan had done to mankind. Christianity is real manichaeism, wherein every advantage is on the side of the bad principle, who, by the great number of his adherents renders nugatory all the purposes of the Deity. If the devil knew that Jesus was "the Christ," such knowledge must have been posterior to his retirement into the desert, for he then spoke to him in a style which intimated that he knew him not. It is superfluous to examine at what time the devil acquired this knowledge; but it is manifest that he had it only by divine permission. Now God, by granting to the devil the knowledge of his Son, either wished, or did not wish, that he should speak of it. If he wished it, Jesus did wrong in opposing it: if he did not wish it, how was the devil able to act contrary to the divine will? Jesus carefully concealed his quality, the knowledge of which could alone operate salvation. But, in this case, the devil had the greatest interest to conceal it; yet in opposition to this interest, and the will of the Almighty, the devil made known the quality of Jesus. Besides, if Jesus did not wish that the devil should discover him, why delay imposing silence on him until after he had spoken? The conduct of the Messiah in these particulars has made it to be believed, that not daring to endanger himself by publicly assuming the quality of Christ, or Son of God, he was not displeased with the devils for divulging his secret, and sparing him the trouble of speaking. It was, moreover, eliciting a very important confession out of the mouth of an enemy. Jesus was not ignorant, that to retain his influence over the minds of men, it was necessary to prevent satiety. Accordingly, on the day following that on which so many miracles had been wrought in Capernaum, he departed before day-break, and withdrew into a desert. All legislators have loved retirement. It is there they have had divine inspirations, and it is on emerging from these mysterious asylums, they have performed miracles calculated to deceive the vulgar. Solitary reflection is at times necessary to ascertain the state of our affairs. Meanwhile the disciples of Jesus, notwithstanding his flight, did not lose sight of him; they repaired to him at the moment he wished to be alone, and informed him that they had been every where in search of him. In fact, there were still many sick and possessed in the country; yet this consideration did not induce Jesus to return to Capernaum; on which account many resorted to him in his retreat. To get rid of them, he again traversed Galilee, where he cured the sick and cast out devils. This is all the gospel mentions. It appears he tarried little on his road, while he preached as he went along; for in a short time he had advanced a considerable way on the shore of the sea of Galilee. As the multitude augmented by idle and curious people from the villages, our preacher, finding himself pressed by the crowd, gave orders to his disciples to convey him to the other side, on the territory of the Gerasenes. When he had landed, a doctor of the law offered to become his follower: but Jesus readily conceived that a _doctor_ would not suit him. He would have cut a poor figure in a company composed of fishermen and clowns, such as those of whom the messiah had formed his court. He gave the doctor to understand, that he would repent of this step; that this kind of life would not agree with him: "the son of man," said he to the doctor, "hath no where to lay his head." Jesus would not permit his disciples to ramble too far in the territory of the Gerasenes; for amongst them were some of that country. One asked permission to go and perform the last duties to his father;--another, to embrace his family; but Jesus harshly refused their requests. The first received for answer, "let the dead bury their dead." The other, "whoever having put his hand to the plough, and looketh back, is not fit for the kingdom of heaven." The incredulous think they perceive in these answers a proof of the rough habits, and repulsive and despotic spirit of Jesus, who, for the kingdom of heaven, obliged his disciples to neglect the most sacred duties of morality. But Christians, docile to the lessons of their divine master, which they dare not examine, have made perfection consist in a total abandonment of those objects which nature has rendered dearest to man. Christianity seems intended only to create discord, detach men from every thing on earth, and break the ties which ought to unite them. There is, according to Jesus, but one thing needful; namely, to be attached to him exclusively: a maxim very useful in meriting heaven, but calculated to destroy every society on the earth. After our missionary had spent some time in the country of the Gerasenes, one day towards the evening he passed over to the other side of the lake, having previously dismissed the people, who had come that day on purpose to hear him; but he did not preach. Fatigued, he fell asleep on the passage, whilst a furious tempest overtook the ship. His affrighted disciples, impressed with the idea of their master being more powerful when awake than when asleep, acquainted him with the danger. This drew on them reproaches for their want of faith, which, probably, gave time for the tempest to subside. Then Jesus, in a tone of authority, commanded the sea to be still, and immediately the order was obeyed. In spite of this prodigy, the faith of the disciples was for a long time wavering. Jesus after this returned to the country of the Gerasenes, without having either preached or performed miracles on the other side. CHAPTER VII. JESUS CURES TWO PERSONS POSSESSED WITH DEVILS--MIRACLE OF THE SWINE--WONDERS PERFORMED BY JESUS TILL THE END OF THE FIRST YEAR OF HIS MISSION. Landed again in the country of the Gerasenes, Jesus took a route by which no person had for some time passed. Two demoniacs, inhabiting the tombs in the neighborhood, rendered this passage dangerous. Scarcely had Jesus shown himself, when these madmen ran to meet him. As he was a connoisseur in matters of possession, he no sooner perceived them than he began to exorcise, to make the unclean spirits come out of them. Notwithstanding his divine skill, he acquitted himself very imperfectly on this occasion. It was not with _one_ devil, but with a legion of devils he had to deal. One of them, amused at the mistake of the son of God who asked him his name, answered, _I am called Legion_. On this Jesus changed his batteries, and was proceeding to dislodge them, when the devils, obstinate in continuing in the country, or very little desirous of returning to hell, proposed a capitulation. One of the articles stipulated, that on leaving the body of the possessed, they should enter into a herd of swine, which fed close by on the declivity of a hill. Jesus readily agreed, for once, to grant something on the prayer of the devils, and not to use his authority rigorously. Neither he nor his disciples, as good Jews, ate pork: he supposed, therefore, that swine, prohibited by the law, might well serve for a retreat to devils. He consented to the treaty; the demons came out of their former residence to enter into the swine, who, feeling Satan within them, were thrown into commotion, or, perhaps, were terrified--a very natural thing; and having precipitated themselves into the sea, were drowned to the number of about two thousand. If a legion of devils is composed of the same number as a Roman legion, we must believe that there were six thousand devils. This evidently makes three devils for each hog, a sufficient number to induce them to commit suicide. Some grave authors assure us, that Jesus never laughed, nor even smiled; yet it is very difficult to believe, that the "son of God" could preserve his gravity after performing such a trick. But it did not appear so humorous to the herdsmen, who found this fine miracle so little pleasant that they complained of it to their employers, and ran to the city; where the affair was no sooner known than the proprietors of the swine, far from being converted, bewailed a prodigy so ruinous to them, and maintained that it was a matter of public concern. The Gerasenes went in a body to oppose the entry of Jesus into their city, and, from inability to punish, besought him to leave their territory as soon as possible. Such was the effect which the miracle of sending devils into the swine produced. This memorable transaction must be true, for it is attested by three evangelists, who, however, vary in some circumstances. Matthew informs us, that the possessed were _two_ in number; Mark and Luke maintain that there was only _one_; but so furious, according to Mark, that they could not bind him _even with fetters_. Luke is certain that the devil frequently carried him into the deserts; Mark affirms that he spent his days and nights in the tombs, and on the neighboring mountains. On this occasion Jesus was also proclaimed _Christ_ by the devil. As he was among his friends, or disciples, he did not enjoin silence to Satan. The acknowledgement was useful when given in private, and could not hurt him; but there were occasions on which it might do harm if made in public. It was necessary, therefore, our puissant miracle-worker should be circumspect, especially when he did not perceive himself sufficiently supported. Unbelievers discover important errors, and evident marks of falsehood in the narrative, which also appears ridiculous, 1st, They are surprised to see devils, who, according to Christians, are condemned to eternal torments in hell, leaving it to take possession of the inhabitants of this earth. 2dly, They are astonished at seeing the devils address prayers to the son of God. It is an article of Christian faith, that to pray, grace is requisite; that the damned cannot pray; and much more, that this grace must be denied to the chief of the damned. 3dly, The incredulous are offended at a miracle by which Jesus benefitted two persons possessed with devils, at the expense of the proprietors of two thousand swine, to whom this miracle cost at least eighteen thousand dollars;--a transaction not quite agreeable to the rules of equity. 4thly, It cannot be conceived how Jews, whom their law inspired with horror towards swine, could have herds of these animals among them, and which they could not even touch without being defiled; and, 5thly, It is indecorous to make the "son of God" enter into a compromise with devils; ridiculous to make them enter into swine; and unjust to make them enter into and destroy other people's property. We are not informed what became of these devils after being precipitated into the sea. It is not unreasonable to believe, that, in coming out of the swine, they entered into the Jews, to procure the saviour the pleasure of casting them out again; for the curing of people possessed was, of all miracles, that in which he was most expert. The possessed person cured by Jesus, penetrated with gratitude to his physician, with whom he was perhaps previously acquainted, wanted to follow Jesus, according to Mark; but it was foreseen that his testimony might become suspicious if he put himself in the train of the messiah, who, therefore, chose rather that he should repair to his family, and announce the mercies he had received from the Lord. He was a native of Decapolis, a country, as we have seen, very much disposed to credulity. Accordingly, as soon as the man had there recounted this adventure, every body was transported with admiration. We are, however, astonished at the difference between these folks, so remarkable for a docile faith, and the Gerasenes:--the inhabitants of Decapolis believe all without seeing any thing, whilst the Gerasenes, eye witnesses of the prodigy, are not moved by it, and uncivilly refuse Jesus admittance into their city. We commonly find in the gospel, that to witness a miracle is a very strong reason for not believing it. The hardness of heart and unbelief of the Gerasenes, and particularly the request they made to the messiah not to come among them, obliged him to re-embark with his disciples and return to Galilee, where he was very kindly received. It is not, however, related whether he preached and performed miracles; even the time he continued there is not accurately known.--The friends of Jesus, and the relations of his disciples and mother, received, it appears, from time to time, intelligence of his wonders, which they took care to circulate; and, on learning that they wanted him, he returned to Capernaum. Scarcely was his arrival known, when the people, always fond of sermons and miracles, resorted to him in crowds. Neither his house nor the space before the door could contain the multitude; he required the voice of a Stentor to make himself heard at the extremities of the crowd; but the idlers, content with following him without knowing why, were very little troubled about understanding his orations. The Pharisees, to whom Jesus' success began to give umbrage, resolved to satisfy themselves, if there was any reality in what was reported of him. Some doctors of Gallilee, who were not of the number of our missionary's admirers, repaired to him. They heard him preach, and came from his sermons more possessed against him: even his miracles could not convert them, though, according to Luke, the power of the Lord was displayed in their presence in the cure of the sick. But, as has been remarked, the miracles of the messiah were calculated to convince those only who did not see them. Thus it is, that these miracles are believed at present by people who would not credit those performed in their presence. Four men who carried a paralytic on his bed, unable to penetrate through the crowd, were advised to ascend with the burden to the roof of the house, and, making an opening there, to let down the sick man in his bed, and lay him at the physician's feet. The idea appeared ingenious and new to the latter, and indicated first rate faith; accordingly, addressing the sick man, he said, "My son, be of good courage, thy sins are forgiven thee." This absolution or remission, was pronounced so as to be heard by the emissary doctors, who were highly offended at it. Jesus, divining their dispositions, addressed his discourse to them--"Why do you suffer wicked thoughts to enter into your hearts? which is easier to say to this paralytic, thy sins are forgiven thee; or to say to him, Arise, take up thy bed and walk." This question, boldly proposed in the midst of a fanatical people, the sport of prejudice, embarrassed the doctors, who did not think proper to reply. Jesus, profiting by their embarrassment, said to the paralytic, _Arise, take up thy bed, and go into thine house_. This prodigy impressed their minds with terror: it especially made our doctors, the spies, tremble, while the people exclaimed, "Never have we seen before anything so wonderful." But if the doctors were afraid, they were not converted; and notwithstanding the cure of the paralytic, they had no faith in the absolution granted by Jesus. It may, therefore, be supposed, that this miracle was attended with circumstances which rendered it suspicious: perhaps the gospel will enable us to discover them. When the same fact is differently related by different historians equal in authority, we are constrained to doubt it; or, at least, are entitled to deny that it happened in the manner supposed. This principle of criticism must apply to the narratives of the gospel writers, as well as to those of others. Now, Matthew merely tells us, that a paralytic was presented to Jesus, who cured him, without relating the wonderful circumstance of the roof being perforated, and the other ornaments with which Mark and Luke embellished their narratives. Thus, either we are in the right in suspending our belief as to this fact, or we may believe that it has not occurred in the manner related by the two last evangelists. Again, Mark and Luke, who say that the sick man was elevated on his bed to the top of the house, having previously informed us the crowd was so great that the bearers of the diseased were unable to force their way, suppose, without expressing it in words, another very great miracle. They make the carriers penetrate through the crowd. Arrived, we know not how, at the foot of the wall, they could not singly, and far less loaded with the sick man, climb up to the roof of the house. Luke says they made an opening through it. In that case the people must have perceived them, particularly, those in the inside of the house. During the silent attention they gave to the discourse of Jesus, they must have heard the noise made by the men in raising up a bed to the roof, and afterwards uncovering, or making a hole in it, through which to convey the sick man. This operation became more difficult if the roof, instead of being covered with tiles, was flat. Now, all the houses of the Jews and orientals were, and still are, constructed in this manner. These difficulties furnish sufficient motives for doubting this grand miracle. But it will become more probable, if we suppose that the sick man was already in the house with Jesus; or that things being previously arranged, they let down by a trap-door made on purpose, a paralytic most certain of being cured on command of the messiah. This transaction might appear marvellous to a populace disposed to see prodigies every where; but it made less impression on the doctors, who had come purposely to scrutinize the conduct of our adventurer. They conjectured, that it was dangerous to contradict weak fanatics, though they did not credit the miracle they had witnessed. Some days thereafter Jesus preached along the sea coast, and passing near the custom-house, perceived Matthew, one of the officers, who sat there. His mien pleased the messiah, on whose invitation the subaltern financier quitted his post, and followed him, after having given a great entertainment to Jesus and his party. Matthew introduced his new master to publicans, and toll collectors, his brethren in trade, and others of similar repute. The Pharisees and doctors, who watched our missionary, came to Matthew's house to be assured of the fact. Jesus, occupied with gratifying his appetite, did not at first observe that he was watched. Some words, however, spoken rather loudly, attracted his attention: it was the doctors who reproached the disciples with eating and drinking with persons of doubtful reputation. "How," probably said they to them, "how dares your master, who constantly preaches up virtue, sobriety, and repentance, show himself publicly in such bad company? How can he associate with knaves, monopolizers, and men whom their extortions render odious to the nation? Why does he have in his train women of bad lives, such as Susan and Jane, who accompany him continually?" The disciples, attacked in this manner, knew not how to reply; but Jesus, without being disconcerted, answered with a proverb:--"It is not the whole," said he, "but the sick who have need of a physician." After this he cited a passage of scripture, which cannot now be found--"Learn," said he, "the truth of this saying, _I love mercy better than sacrifice_." It appears the doctors did not consider themselves defeated, and Jesus was so transported with zeal as to say, that he "came not to call the righteous but sinners to repentance." In that case, why did he reject the Pharisees and doctors, whom he called _whitened sepulchres_? If the adversaries of Jesus were not righteous, they were sinners, whom he was come to call to repentance; consequently he ought not to have renounced them. Whatever reason Jesus might have to palliate or justify his conduct, it was very soon published abroad. John Baptist's disciples who heard it, and whom, perhaps, jealously excited, came in search of him, and asked the reason of the difference in the life he and his disciples led, and that which they themselves followed. We fast, (said they) continually, whilst you and your followers enjoy good cheer. We practise austerities, and live in retirement, whilst you run about and frequently keep company with persons of evil repute, &c. The reproach was embarrassing, but Jesus contrived to evade it. "The friends of the bridegroom, (replied he,) ought neither to fast, nor live in sorrow whilst they have the bridegroom with them; a time will come when the bridegroom shall be taken away from them; and then they shall fast. No man putteth a piece of new cloth on an old garment--neither do men put new wine into old bottles: and no person asks for new wine when he can get old, for he finds the old better." John's disciples had no reply to reasons so sublime and convincing. The enigmatical symbol, or pompous bombast, by which Jesus got out of this affair, is closely imitated by our modern preachers, who find it very proper argument to shut the mouths of those who are not inclined to dispute eternally about what they do not understand. This incident demonstrates, that the Pharisees and doctors were not the only persons who were offended with Jesus, and the company he kept. In the epistles, ascribed to Barnabas, that apostle says expressly, that the "apostles, whom the Lord chose, were very wicked men, and above all sinners iniquitous." The fact is also confirmed in Matthew ix., Mark ii. and Luke v. This evidently decides the cause in favour of the partizans of lax morality, and furnishes them with victorious arms against the modern puritans. We may also remark, that the actions and expressions of Jesus on this occasion, authorise the conduct and language of our holy guides, our lords the bishops, who when reproached with their iniquitous behaviour, shut our mouths by averring, that _we ought to do as they tell us, and not what they do_! It cannot be denied, that the discrepancy which existed between the conduct of Jesus and the principles of the Jews, or even in his own doctrine, required extraordinary miracles to prove his mission. He was not ignorant of this; prodigies, therefore, were commonly the strongest of his arguments; these were well calculated to gain the vulgar, who never value themselves on reasoning, but are ready to applaud the man who exhibits wonders, and acquires the secret of pleasing their fancy. After Jesus had silenced John's disciples, the chief of a synagogue waited on him, and besought him to come and lay hands on his daughter, twelve years old, _who was dead_, according to Matthew, but who was only _very sick_, according to Mark and Luke; a difference which seems to merit some attention. Jesus complied with the invitation; and whilst proceeding to the house overheated himself so much that a virtue went out of him sufficient to cure all who were in its atmosphere. We shall not form conjectures on the nature of this virtue or divine transpiration. We shall only remark, that it was so potent as instantaneously to cure a woman afflicted for twelve years with an issue of blood; a disease which, probably, the spectators had not better verified than its cure. On this occasion, Jesus perceiving that there had gone out of him a considerable portion of virtue, turned towards the afflicted female, whom his disciples had rudely pushed back, and seeing her prostrate at his feet, "Daughter, (said he) be of good cheer, thy faith hath made thee whole." The poor woman, whom the disciples had intimidated, charmed with being relieved from her fright in so easy a manner, confessed openly she was cured. When our miracle performer was arrived at the house of Jairus, the chief of the synagogue, it was announced to the latter that his daughter had expired, and that the house was full of minstrels, who were performing a dirge or mournful concert according to the custom of the country. Jesus, who on the way had got the father of the girl to prattle, was not disconcerted at the news. He began with making every body retire, and then by virtue of some words raised her from the dead. In historical matters we must prefer two writers who agree, to a third who contradicts them. Luke and Mark affirm that the damsel was dead; but here unfortunately it is the hero himself who weakens his victory. On their saying that she was dead, he affirmed that she was only _asleep_. There are girls who at twelve years of age are subject to such swoons. On the other hand, the father of the damsel appears to have acquainted the physician with the condition of his child; and he, more in the secret than others, did not believe the intelligence of her death. He entered alone into her chamber, well assured of her recovery if she was only in a swoon: if he had found her dead, there is every reason to believe, he would have returned, and told the father that he had been called too late, and regreted the accident. Jesus did not wish that this miracle should be published; he forbade the father and mother of the damsel to tell what had happened. Our charlatan was not solicitous to divulge an affair which might increase the indignation of the Jews of Jerusalem, whither he was soon to repair to celebrate the passover. The account of this miracle seems to evince that the Son of God had acquired some smattering of medicine in Egypt. It appears that he was versant in the spasmodic diseases of women; and no more was wanting to induce the vulgar to regard him as a sorcerer, or performer of miracles. Once in the way of performing wonders, Jesus did not rest satisfied with one merely. According to Matthew, (who alone relates the facts we are now to notice,) two blind men who followed him began to exclaim, _Son of David, have mercy on us_. Though Jesus, in his quality of God, knew the most secret thoughts of men, he chose to be _viva voce_ assured of the disposition of the sick with whom he had intercourse. He asked, if they had much faith, or if they sincerely believed that he was able to do what they requested of him. Our blind folks answered in the affirmative; then touching their eyes, "Be it unto you," said he, "according to your faith," and instantly they received their sight. We know not how to reconcile such lively faith in two blind men, with their disobedience. Their physician, who might have good reasons for not being known, expressly forbade them to speak of their cure; they, however, spread it instantly through the country. The silence of those who were witnesses of this great miracle, is not more astonishing than the indiscretion of the blind men who were the objects of it. A fact still more miraculous is the obduracy of the Jews, who were so stubborn, that the many wonders performed one after another and on the same day, were not able to convince them. Jesus, far from being discouraged, determined still to exhibit specimens of his power. A dumb man, possessed with a devil, being presented to him, he expelled the demon and the dumb began to speak. At sight of this miracle, the people, as usual, were in extasy, whilst the pharisees and doctors, who had also exorcists among them, saw nothing surprising in it: they pretended that their exorcists performed their conjurations in the name of God, whilst Jesus operated in the name of the devil. Thus they accused Jesus of casting out the devil by the devil, which was indeed a contradiction. But this did not prove the divinity of Jesus; it proved only that the Pharisees were capable of talking nonsense and contradicting themselves, like all superstitious and credulous people. When theologists dispute, we soon discover that the wranglers on both sides speak nonsense; and, by contradicting themselves, impugn their own authority. CHAPTER VIII. OF WHAT JESUS DID AT JERUSALEM DURING THE SECOND PASSOVER IN HIS MISSION. Our doctor having closed the first year of his mission in a glorious manner, he proceeded to Jerusalem, to try his fortune, and gather the fruits of his labour, or form a party in the capital, after having acquired adherents in the country. There was reason to expect that the wonders which he had performed the year preceding in Galilee, would have a powerful effect on the populace of Jerusalem; but they produced consequences opposite to those which Jesus had hoped for. It might be said that the infernal legion which he had sent into the swine of the Gerasenes, had returned and fixed their abode in the heads of the inhabitants of the country. The gospel shows in the former an incredible hardness of heart. In vain Jesus wrought before their eyes a multitude of prodigies, calculated to confirm the wonders related to them; in vain did he employ his divine rhetoric to demonstrate the divinity of his mission. His efforts served only to increase the anger of his enemies, and induce them to devise means to punish him whom they persisted in regarding as a juggler, a charlatan, and a dangerous impostor. It is true, the adversaries of Jesus surprised him sometimes at fault--They reproached him with violating the ordinances of a law venerated by them as sacred, and from which he had promised never to depart. They regarded these violations as a proof of heresy, and it did not enter their heads that a God could raise himself above ordinary rules, and possess the right of changing every thing. They were Jews, and therefore obstinately attached to their ordinances; and they did not conceive how a true messenger of God could allow himself to trample under foot, what they were accustomed to regard as sacred and agreeable to Deity. So many obstacles did not discourage Jesus. He determined to succeed at any price; and though he might have foreseen what would be the issue of his enterprise, he was sensible he must conquer or die; that fortune favours only the brave; and that it was necessary to play an illustrious part, or tamely consent to languish in misery in the solitude of some obscure village in Galilee. On arriving at Jerusalem, he devoted his attention to sick paupers--the rich had their own physicians. At this time there was in the city, and near the sheep port, a fountain, or pool, of which, with the exception of the gospel, no historian has ever spoken, though, it well deserved to be transmitted to posterity. It was a vast edifice, surrounded with five magnificent galleries, in the centre of which was a sheet of water, that possessed admirable properties; but these were known only to indigent people and mendicants; and they knew them, doubtless, by a particular revelation. Under these galleries were soon languishing a great number of sick persons, who patiently waited for a miracle. God, on giving to the water of this pool the faculty of curing all diseases, had annexed a condition to it--The first who could plunge therein after an angel had troubled it, which happened only at a certain time, could alone obtain the benefit of a cure. The chief magistrate of Jerusalem, who probably knew nothing of the existence of this extraordinary fountain, had not established any regulation respecting it. The most forward and agile, and such as had friends always in readiness to lead them to the water when it was troubled, succeeded often in obtaining deliverance from their diseases. A paralytic had been there for thirty-eight years, without any one having had the charity to lend him a helping hand in descending to the fountain. Jesus, who beheld him lying, asked him if he wanted to be cured? "Yes," answered the sick man, "but I have nobody to put me into the water when it is troubled." "That signifies nothing, (replied Jesus,) Arise, take up thy bed and walk." This wretched man, perhaps not unlike many of our beggars, who, to soften the public, feigned diseases, and who on this occasion might be gained over by some trifle to be accessary to the farce; this miserable, we say, did not leave him to speak twice--on the order of Jesus he took up his couch and departed. This cure was performed on the Sabbath. Our paralytic having been met by a man of the law, the latter reprimanded him for violating the ordinances of religion by carrying his bed. The transgressor had no other excuse to give, but, that he who had cured him had commanded him so to do. He was then questioned about the person who had given this order, but he knew nothing of him. Jesus had not said who he was; and, as if the act had been very trifling, the person on whom the miracle was performed had not informed himself of the author of it. Here the matter ended; but Jesus having some time after met the paralytic, made himself known to him, and then the latter informed the Jews of the name of his physician. The priests were so irritated, that from this instant they formed the design of putting Jesus to death, because, according to John, _he had done these things on the Sabbath day_. It is not probable that this was the true cause of the rage of the Jews. However scrupulous we suppose them, it is presumed that their physicians did not think themselves obliged to refuse medicines to the sick on the Sabbath. Jesus, not content with curing, also authorised those he cured to violate the Sabbath by carrying their bed, which was a servile work; or rather these unbelievers regarded the miracles of the saviour as mere delusions, impostures, tricks of dexterity, and himself as a cheat who might excite disturbances. Jesus having learned that the Jews were ill disposed towards him, attempted to justify himself. He made a speech to prove that he was the Son of God, and that his Father authorised him not to observe the Sabbath. But he took care not to explain himself very distinctly on this _filiation_; and by his ambiguous language, insinuated the eternity of his father, though he did not call him God. Yet the Jews perceiving his object, were very much offended at this pretension. He changed, therefore, his ground, and threw himself on the necessity by which he acted. "Verily," said he to them, "the Son does nothing of himself, but what he seeth the Father do. The Father, who loves him, sheweth him all things that he himself doeth, and he will show him greater works than these." By these expressions, Jesus seems to overthrow his own eternity and infinite knowledge; for he announces himself as susceptible of learning something, or as the pupil of the Divinity. To impress the minds of these unbelievers, whom his enigmatical language could not convince, he declared that henceforth the Father would no longer interfere in judging men, but had devolved that care on his Son. This, however, had no effect; as the Jews expected a great judge, they were not yet staggered. Jesus, like our modern teachers, for want of better arguments proceeded to intimidate his audience, knowing well that fear prevents the exercise of reason. He gave them to understand, that the end of the world was near, which ought to make them tremble. The testimony of John Baptist, had facilitated the first successes of Jesus; but the difference remarked between his conduct and that of the forerunner, destroyed the force of this testimony. Our orator pretended to have no need of it and endeavored to weaken its value. "_He was a burning and a shining light_" to them; "_you were willing for a season to rejoice in his light; I have a greater witness than his_." Here he appealed to his own works, which he maintained to be infallible proofs of his divine mission. He undoubtedly forgot at this moment, that he spoke to people who regarded his marvellous deeds as delusions and impostures. His works were precisely the thing which it was necessary to prove even to the Jews, who saw them performed! This manner of reasoning has been since adopted with success by Christian doctors, who, when doubts or objections are advanced against the mission of Jesus, appeal to his miraculous works, which were at all times incapable of convincing the very persons whom they tell us had been witnesses of them. Among the proofs employed by Jesus to exalt his mission, he advanced one, the tendency of which is to destroy the mission of Moses, and cause him to be regarded as an impostor. He told them, _You have never heard the voice of my Father_; whilst it was on the voice of this Father, of whom Moses was the interpreter, that the law of the Jews was founded. After having annihilated the authority of scripture, our orator wished to prop his mission on the same scriptures, by which he pretended he was announced. "Fear" says he, "the Father; I will not be the person who will accuse you before him; it will be Moses, in whom you trust, because you believe not in him; for if you believed in him, you would also believe in me. I am come in the name of the Father, and you pay no attention to it; another will come in his own name, and you will believe in him." The hearers of this sermon were not moved by it: they considered it unconnected, contradictory, and blasphemous; the fear of seeing the end of the world arrive, did not hinder them from perceiving the want of just inference in the orator, who took away from his Father, and restored to him the quality of judge of men, which he had at first appropriated to himself. Besides, it would appear the Jews were of good courage as to this end of the world, which events had so often belied. Their posterity, who beheld the world subsisting after this, notwithstanding the express prediction of Jesus and his disciples, have founded their repugnance for his doctrine, among other things, on this want of accomplishment. From his sublime discourse the incredulous conclude, that it is very difficult for an imposter to speak long without contradicting and exposing himself. The inefficacy of this harangue convinced Jesus that it was in vain to rely on miracles, in order to draw over the Jews of Jerusalem. He forbore to perform them, though the festival of the passover might furnish him with a favourable opportunity. It appears he was completely disgusted with the incredulity of these wretches, who showed themselves no way disposed to witness the great things which he had exhibited with success to the inhabitants of Galilee. To make miracles pass in a capital, there must be a greater share of credulity than in the country. Besides, if the populace are well disposed even in large cities, the magistrates and better informed oppose a bulwark to imposition. The same thing happened to Jesus in Jerusalem. Perhaps he despaired of the salvation of these infidels, for during the short time he sojourned in that city, he kept no measures with them, but loaded them with abusive language. It does not appear, however, that this plan gained proselytes, though since that time his disciples and the priests have frequently endeavored to succeed by similar means, and even by coercion. In this journey, Jesus had no success--his disciples did not meet with good cheer; to sustain life they were reduced to the necessity of taking a little corn in the environs of the city; and were caught in this occupation on the Sabbath day. Complaint was made to their master; but no satisfaction could be obtained. He replied to the Pharisees, by comparing what his disciples had done with the conduct of David, who, on an emergency, ate, and also made his followers eat, the shew bread, the use of which was reserved for the priests, adding, that "the Sabbath was made for man, and not man for the Sabbath;" therefore, he concluded, "the Son of man is Lord of the Sabbath." Critics have remarked in several circumstances of the life of Jesus, that he was frequently liable to commit mistakes. For example, on the occasion we speak of, he gave the name of _Abiathar_ to the high priest who permitted David to eat the shew bread. The Holy Spirit, however, informs us, in the first book of Kings, that this high priest was called _Achimelech_. The error would be nothing if an ordinary man had fallen into it, but it becomes embarrassing in a man-God, or in God made man, whom we ought to suppose incapable of blunders. On the same occasion, Jesus maintained that the priests themselves violated the Sabbath, by serving God in the temple on that day; and, this, according to the principles of theology, is confounding _servile_ works with _spiritual_. But this is to have the same idea of a robbery and of an oblation; it is to tax God with being ignorant of what he did, by ordaining, at one and the same time, the observance and the violation of a day which he had consecrated to repose. Our doctors further justify Jesus by saying, that, as God, he was absolute master of all things. But in that case he ought to have procured better fare for his disciples. It would not have cost him more to have permitted them to encroach on the table of some rich financier of Jerusalem, or even that of the high priest, who lived at the expense of God his Father, than to permit his followers to forage in the fields of the poor inhabitants of the country. At least it was previously necessary to verify such sovereignty over all things in the eyes of the Jews, who, from not knowing this truth, were offended at the conduct which the Son of God seemed to authorise. It is apparently on this principle several Christian doctors have pretended, that _all things appertain to the just_; that it is permitted them to seize on the property of infidels and the unholy; that the clergy have a right to levy contributions on the people; and that the pope may dispose of crowns at his pleasure. It is on the same principle that actions are defended, which unbelievers regard as usurpations and violence, exercised by the Christians on the inhabitants of the new world. Hence it is of the utmost importance to Christians not to depart from the example which Jesus has given them in this passage of the gospel; it appears especially to concern the rights of the clergy. Pretensions, so well founded, did not, however, strike the carnal minds of the Jews; they persisted in believing that it was not permitted to rob, particularly on the Sabbath; and not knowing the extent of the rights of Jesus, they considered him an impostor, and his disciples knaves. They believed him to be a dangerous man, who, under pretence of reformation, sought to subvert their laws, trample on their ordinances, and overturn their religion. They agreed, therefore, to collect the proofs they had against him, accuse, and cause him to be arrested. But our hero, who had information of their designs, frustrated them by leaving Jerusalem. CHAPTER IX. JESUS WORKS NEW MIRACLES--ELECTION OF THE TWELVE APOSTLES. As soon as Jesus was safe from the malice of his enemies, and found that he was among persons of more favourable dispositions than the inhabitants of Jerusalem, he again commenced working miracles. His experience convinced him, that to gain the capital, it was necessary to augment his forces in the environs, and procure, in the country, a great number of adherents, who might, in due time and place, aid him in overcoming the incredulity of priests, doctors, and magistrates; and put him in possession of the holy city, the object of his eager desires. These new prodigies, however, produced no remarkable effect. The Jews, who had been at Jerusalem during the passover, on returning home, prepossessed their fellow-citizens against our missionary. If he found the secret of gaining the admiration of the people in the places he passed through on leaving the capital, he had the chagrin to find opponents in the Pharisees and doctors. The following fact shows to what a degree the people were influenced:--On a Sabbath, Jesus entered the synagogue of a place, the name of which has not been preserved. He there found a man who had, or said he had, a withered hand. The sight of the diseased, who was, probably, some noted mendicant and knave, and the presence of the physician, excited the attention of the doctors. They watched Jesus closely--"Let us see, (said they, one to another) if he will dare to heal this man on the Sabbath day." But observing that Jesus remained inactive, they questioned him as to the Sabbath, for which he had, on so many occasions, shown but little respect. It was apparently one of the principal points of his reform, to abrogate a number of festivals. The doctors asked him, "Master, is it lawful to heal on this day?" He was frequently in the habit of answering one question by another: Logic was not the science in which the Jews were most conversant. Jesus replied, "Is it lawful to do good on the Sabbath day, or to do evil--to save life, or to take it away?" This question, according to Mark, confounded the doctors. Nevertheless, there is reason to believe, unless we suppose the Jews to have been a hundred times more stupid than they really were, that this question was ill timed. They were prohibited from applying to servile occupations only, but must have been permitted to discharge the most urgent duties of morality even on the Sabbath day. It is to be presumed, that a midwife, for example, lent her ministry on that day, as on any other. It is stated in the Talmud, that it was permitted to annoint the sick with oil on the Sabbath. The Essenians observed the Sabbath with so much rigor, that they did not allow themselves to satisfy the most pressing wants of life. This, perhaps, gave occasion to the reproaches with which this sect loaded Jesus, who had by his own authority reformed this ridiculous custom. Jesus continued his questions, and asked them, if when a sheep fell into a ditch on the Sabbath, they would not draw it out? Hence, without waiting for an answer, he very justly concluded that it was permitted to do good on that day. To prove it, he said to the sick, whom he had, perhaps, suborned to play this part in the synagogue, "Arise, stand up, and stretch forth thy hand;" and immediately his hand became as the other. But Jesus, finding this prodigy produced no change in their minds, darted a furious look on the assembly, and, boiling with a holy choler, instantly forsook the detestable place. Matt. xii. Mark xii. 6. Jesus acted wisely; for these naughty doctors immediately took counsel with the officers of Herod, "how they might destroy him." Informed of every thing by his adherents, he gained the sea shore, where it was always easy for him to effect his escape. His disciples, several of whom understood navigation, followed him. A number of people, more credulous than the doctors, resorted to him on the noise of his marvels. There came hearers from Galilee, from Jerusalem, from Idumea, from the other side of Jordan, and even from Tyre and Sidon. This multitude furnished him with a pretext for ordering his disciples to hold a boat in readiness, that he might not be too much thronged, but, in truth, to escape, in case it should be attempted to pursue him. On this shore, favorable to his designs, Jesus performed a great number of miracles, and cured an infinity of people. We must piously believe it on the word of Matthew and Mark. These wonders were performed on the sick, and especially on the possessed. The latter, at whatever distance they perceived the Saviour, prostrated themselves before him, rendered homage to his glory, and proclaimed him the "Christ;" whilst he, always full of modesty, commanded them with threats not to reveal him; the whole to accomplish a prophecy, which said of him, _He shall not dispute, nor cry, nor make his voice be heard in the streets_; a prophecy, which, however, was frequently contradicted by his continual disputes with the doctors and Pharisees, and by the uproar he occasioned in the temple, in the streets of Jerusalem, and in the synagogues. Nothing is more astonishing than the obstinacy of the devil in acknowledging Jesus, and confessing his divinity, and the stubbornness of the doctors in not recognizing him, in spite of his cares to make the one silent to convince the others. It is evident, that the son of God has come with the sole intent of preventing the Jews from profiting by his coming, and acknowledging his mission. It may be said that he has shown himself merely to receive the homage of satan; at least we perceive only the devil and his disciples proclaiming the character of Jesus. When he had preached much, cured much, and exorcised much, our missionary wished to be alone to reflect on the situation of his affairs. With a view to enjoy more liberty, he ascended a mountain, where he spent the whole night. The result of his solitary reflections was, that although he required assistants, he could no longer, without giving umbrage to the government, continue marching up and down with a company so numerous as that of the idlers who composed his suite. When day appeared, he called those of his disciples whom he judged most worthy of confidence, and selected twelve to remain near his person. This is what Luke says; but Mark insinuates that he chose his twelve apostles on purpose to send them on a mission. As Jesus, however, assures us, that he chose them _to be near him_, and as the apostles, content with begging and making provision for themselves and their master, did not perform any mission during his life, at least out of Judea, we shall adhere to the first opinion. The names of these apostles were Simon Peter, Andrew, Matthew, Simon-Zelotes, James, Philip, Thomas, Jude, John, Bartholomew, another James, and Judas Iscariot, the treasurer. As Jesus had no money to give his disciples, he told them no doubt to go and push their fortune. He, however, took care to impart to them his secret; to teach them the art of miracles, to cure diseases, and to cast out devils. He also gave them the power of remitting sins, and to bind and unbind in the name of Heaven; prerogatives, which, if they did not enrich the apostles, have been worth immense treasures to their successors. To them the roughest staff has become a _crosier_, a staff of command, making its power felt by the mightiest sovereigns of the earth. The _bag_ or _wallet_ of the apostles has been converted into treasures, benefices, principalities and revenues. Permission to beg has become a right to exact tithes, devour nations, fatten on the substance of the wretched, and enjoy, by _divine right_, the privilege of pillaging society, and disturbing it with impunity. The successors of the first missionaries of Jesus, though professing to be mendicants, enjoyed the prerogative of coercing all who refused to bestow charities on them, or to obey their commands. Many have imagined, that Jesus never concerned himself about the subsistence of the ministers of the church; but if we examine attentively the gospel, especially the Acts of the Apostles, we shall find the basis of the riches, grandeur, and even despotism of the clergy. CHAPTER X. SERMON ON THE MOUNT--SUMMARY OF THE MORALITY OF JESUS--OBSERVATIONS ON THAT MORALITY. The dread of being arrested having constrained Jesus to abandon the cities, where he had many enemies, the country became his ordinary residence. The people, or at least some male and female devotees whom he had converted, furnished provisions to the divine man and his followers. Obliged to wander about, bury themselves in mountains and in deserts, and sleep in the open air, our apostles became discontented with their lot. In spite of the spiritual graces, which they received in the society of the messiah, these carnal men expected something more substantial on devoting themselves to his service. They were doubtless promised important posts, riches, and power in the kingdom he was about to establish. Jesus on this account frequently experienced as much difficulty in retaining them, as in convincing the rebellious Jews by his miracles and conclusive arguments. The measure of their appetite, and well being, was at this time, the only rule of their faith. To prevent their murmurs, and familiarize them with a frugal life, which our missionary saw he would be obliged, perhaps for a long time, to make them lead, he pronounced an oration on true happiness: it is the one known by the name of the Sermon on the Mount, and related by Matthew, chap v. According to our orator, true happiness consists in _poverty of Spirit_; that is, in ignorance, and contempt of knowledge, which bids us exercise our reason, and strips man of the blind submission that is necessary to induce him to submit to a guide. Jesus preached a pious docility, which implicitly credits every thing without examination; and to tell them, that the kingdom of heaven would be the reward of this happy disposition. Such is the sense which the church has given to the words of Jesus, "Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven." Among the apostles, there were some whose passionate dispositions might have been prejudicial to the progress of the sect. It may in general be presumed, that rough men, devoid of education, have repulsive manners. Jesus demonstrated the necessity of meekness, civility, and patience, in order to gain proselytes; he recommended moderation and toleration, as the certain means of insinuating themselves into the minds of men, of thriving in the world, and as the surest way of making conquests. This is the true sense of these words, "Happy are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth." Wishing to inspire them with courage, and console them for their miserable situation, he told them, that to live in tears is felicity, and an infallible method of expiating iniquity. He promised that their vexations should not endure forever; that their tears should be dried up; that their misery should terminate; and that their hunger should be appeased. These consolations and promises, were indispensably necessary to fortify the apostles against every accident which, in the course of their enterprises, might befal them in the retinue of a chief destitute of riches and power, and incapable of procuring to himself or others the comforts of existence. Jesus, with a view, no doubt, of sweetening the lot of his apostles, recommended compassion to the listening multitude, of which he, as well as his party, stood in the greatest need. It is readily perceived, that the messiah felt the most imperious necessity to preach charity to his auditors; for he lived on alms, and his success depended on the generosity of the public, and the benefactions of the good souls who hearkened to his lessons. The preacher recommended peace and concord; dispositions necessary to a new born, weak, and persecuted sect; but this necessity ceased when this sect had attained strength enough to dictate the law. He afterwards fortified his disciples against the persecutions which they were to experience; he addressed their self love--spurring them on by motives of honor: "Ye are (says he) the salt of the earth, the light of the world." He gave them to understand that they were the "successors of the prophets," men so much respected by the Jews: and, to share in whose glory, they ought to expect the same crosses which their illustrious predecessors experienced. He told them to regard hatred, persecution, contempt, and the deprivation of every thing that constitutes the well being and happiness of man, as true felicity, and most worthy of heavenly rewards. After haranguing his disciples, he addressed himself to the people. He presented to them a new morality, which, far from being repugnant to that of the Jews, could easily be reconciled with it. Things were not as yet sufficiently matured for abrogating the law of Moses: too great changes alarm mankind. A feeble missionary must at first confine himself to reforming abuses, without seeking to probe to the bottom. Jesus wisely contented himself with showing, that the law was faulty in some particulars, and that he proposed to perfect it. Such is the language, of all reformers. Jesus expressly declared, that he was not come to destroy, but to fulfil the law: and he affirmed that, in heaven, ranks would be fixed according to the rigorous observance of all its articles. He insinuated, however, to his audience, that neither they, nor their doctors, understood any part of that law which, they believed, they faithfully practised. He undertook, therefore, to explain it; and as all reformers pretend to puritanical austerity, and to a supernatural and more than human perfection, he went beyond the law. The following is the substance of his marvellous instructions: You have heard that it was said by them of old time, Thou shalt not kill; and whosoever shall kill shall be punished with death; but I say unto you, that it is necessary to extend this prohibition and punishment even to wrath, seeing it is wrath which urges one on to put his fellow creature to death. You would punish adultery only when it is committed; but I tell you, that desire alone renders one as culpable as fact. You, perhaps, will answer, that man is not the master of his passions and desires, and that he can hardly resist them: I agree with you in this; you have not any power, even on the hairs of your head. The penances, sacrifices, and expiations which your priests impose, are not capable of procuring the remission of your sins; behold, then, the only means of preventing them, or making reparation: has your eye, or any of your members solicited you to commit iniquity? Cut off that member, or pull out that eye, and cast it from you; for it is more expedient that one of your members should perish, than that the whole body be thrown into hell fire. If Moses, inspired by the divinity, had known this hell, destined for your suffering eternal punishment, he would not have failed to menace you with it; but he was ignorant of the dogma of another life; he spoke only of the present, to which he has limited your misfortunes, or your felicity. Had it not been for this, he would not have neglected to acquaint you with a fact so well calculated to inspire you with fear, and render life insupportable. We are quite surprised at finding, that Moses and the ancient Hebrew writers have no where mentioned the dogma of a future life, which now-a-days forms one of the most important articles of the Christian religion. Solomon speaks of the death of men by comparing it with that of brutes. Some of the prophets, it is true, have spoken of a place called _Cheol_, which has been translated _Hell (Enfer)_; yet it is evident, that this word implies merely sepulchre or tomb. They have also translated the Hebrew word _Topheth_ into _Hell_: but on examining the word, we find that it designates a place of punishment near Jerusalem, where malefactors were punished, and their carcases burned. It was after the Babylonish captivity that the Jews knew the dogma of another life, and the resurrection, which they learned of the Persian disciples of Zoroaster. In the time of Jesus, that dogma was not even generally received. The Pharisees admitted it, and the Sadducees rejected it. You use too freely (proceeded our missionary) the permission of divorce; the least disgust makes you repudiate your wives; but I tell you, that you ought to repudiate them only when you have surprised them in adultery. It is cruel to stone one for this fault; we ought to have respect for the weakness of the sex. Jesus, whose birth was very equivocal, had particular reasons for wishing that adultery should be treated with indulgence. Independently of Mary his mother, from whom Joseph was probably separated, our preacher had in his train dames, whose conduct had not been irreproachable anterior to their conversion. Besides Mary Magdalene, who was a noted courtesan, Jesus had in his suite Joanna, wife of Chuza, Herod's steward, who, according to the tradition, robbed and forsook her husband to follow the messiah, and assist him with her property. Moreover, the indulgence which he preached must have gained him the hearts of all the ladies in his auditory. The messiah continued nearly in these terms:--God has of old promised you blessings, prosperity, and glory; but he has changed his intention, and revoked these promises. As you were almost always, and still are the most unhappy, the most foolish, and most despised people on earth, you ought to suspect that these pompous promises were mere allegories. You ought, therefore, to have an abject and mortifying morality, conformable to your genius, your situation, and your misery. If it does not procure you welfare in this world, you should hope that it will render you more happy in the next. Your humiliations are the certain means of attaining one day that glory, which hitherto neither you nor your fathers have ever been able to acquire. When therefore a person shall give you a blow on one cheek, offer him the other. Do not go to law--lawyers will ruin you; and, besides, the poor are always in the wrong when opposed to the rich. Give to whoever asks of you, and refuse nothing you possess; it is by relying on the punctual practice of this important precept, that I send my disciples into the world without money or provisions. I do not give you any description of paradise--it is sufficient to know that you will be perfectly happy there. But to get there, it is necessary to be more than men--it is necessary to love your enemies; to render good for evil; to preserve no remembrance of cruel outrages; to bless the hand that strikes you; and not to speak one silly word; for one only will precipitate you into hell. Have a pleasant aspect when you fast; but especially live without foresight. Accumulate nothing, lest you excite the wrath of my father. Think not of to-morrow--live at random, like the birds that never think of sowing, gathering, or accumulating provisions. Detach yourselves from all things below--seek the kingdom of God, which I and my disciples will give you for your charities. This conduct cannot fail to plunge you into misery; but then you shall beg in your turn. God will provide for your wants--ask and it shall be given you. Do not beggars find, agreeably to our divine precepts, wherewith to live at the expense of the simpletons who labor? My disciples and I, are a proof that without toil, one may avoid difficulties, and not perish by hunger? If our manner of living appears not to agree with my language, I charge you not judge my actions, nor condemn your masters and doctors. Do not intermeddle with state affairs;--that care is reserved for me, and those in whom I confide. The master is superior to the disciple--it is to me in particular you ought to listen. If you call me master, it is necessary to do what I desire you. The practice of my morality is difficult, and even impossible to many persons; but the broad and easy way conducts to perdition; and to enter heaven, it is necessary to be as perfect as my heavenly father. I must caution you against my enemies, or those who shall preach a contrary doctrine. Treat them as wolves; they are false prophets--show them no indulgence: for it is not to them that you ought to be humane, tolerant, and pacific. In the course of his sermon Jesus taught them a short form of prayer, known by the name of _the Lord's prayer_. Though the Son of God may have shewn himself on this occasion the enemy of long prayers, the Christian church is full of pious sluggards, who, in spite of his decision, believe they cannot perform any thing more agreeable to God, than spending their whole time in mumbling prayers in a very low tone, singing them in a high one, and frequently in a language they do not understand. It appears, that in this, as in many other things, the church has rectified the practice of its divine founder. Matthew informs us, that the discourse, of which we have given the substance, transported the people with admiration, for Jesus instructed them as one having authority, and not as the scribes.--The latter, perhaps, spoke in a more simple manner, and consequently less admired by the vulgar, whose wonder is excited in proportion to their inability to comprehend, or practise the precepts given them. Thus the sermon of Jesus had not, at that time, any contradictors. It has however, furnished ample scope for dispute to our casuists and theologians. They have subtlely distinguished between things which were merely of _counsel_, and those of _precept_ which ought rigorously to be observed. It was soon felt, that the sublime morality of the Son of God did not suit mankind, and its literal observance was destructive to society. It was, therefore, requisite to moderate it, and recur to that marvellous distinction, in order to shelter the honour of the divine legislator, and reconcile his fanatical morality with the wants of the human race. Moreover, this discourse presents difficulties, which will always appear embarrassing to persons accustomed to reflect on what they read. They find, that it is ridiculous and false to say, a law is accomplished, when it is proposed and permitted to violate it, and add or retrench the most essential points. Since the time of Jesus, why has the Jewish law been completely abrogated by Paul and his adherents, who, as we have seen, ceceded from the Christian partizans of Judaism? Why do Christians entertain at present so much horror at that same Judaism, except indeed when the privileges and pretensions of the clergy are in question--articles on which our Christian priests are very judaical, and which they have prudently borrowed from Leviticus; all to supply the neglect of Jesus, who was not sufficiently attentive either to their temporal interests, _divine rights_, or sacred hierarchy? By what law do the inquisitors (if Christians) in Portugal and Spain burn those who are accused, or convicted, of having observed the usages of a law, which Jesus has declared he did not wish to _abolish_, but to _fulfil_? By what law have Christians, dispensed with circumcision, and permit them selves to eat pork, bacon, pudding, hare, &c? Why has sunday, or the day of the sun among Pagans been substituted for Sabbath or Saturday? 2dly, It is held unjust to punish in the same manner a man in a passion and a murderer. One may be in a passion and restrain himself, or afterwards repair the injury; but he cannot restore life to a man whom he has deprived of it. 3dly, The restriction of divorce to the single case of adultery is a law very hard, and very prejudicial to the happiness of married persons. This precept compels a man to live with a woman who in other respects may be odious to him. Besides, it is generally difficult to convict a female of adultery; she usually takes precaution to avoid this. Is it not very grievous, and even dangerous to live with a person who occasions continual suspicions? 4thly, It is absurd to make a crime of _desire_, especially without supposing the _liberty_ of man; but Jesus is not explicit on that important article. On the contrary, from the train of his discourse he appears to recognize the _necessity_ of man, who has no authority over a single hair of his head. Paul, his apostle, declares in many places against the liberty of man, whom he compares with a vessel in the hands of a potter. But if there be no proportion between the workman and his work; if the latter has no right to say to the former, _why have you fashioned me thus_? if there be no analogy between them, how can they bear any relation to each other? If God is incorporeal, how does he act upon bodies? or how can these bodies disturb his repose, or excite in him emotions of anger? If man is relatively to God as an _earthen vase_, this vase owes neither thanks nor adoration to the potter who gave him so insignificant a form. If this power is displeased with his own vessel because he formed it badly, or because it is not fit for the uses he intended, the potter, if he is not an irrational being, can only blame himself for the defects which appear. He no doubt can break it in pieces, and the vase cannot prevent him; but if instead of forming it anew, and giving it a figure more suitable to his designs, he punishes the vase for the bad qualities he has conferred upon it, he would show himself to be completely deprived of reason. This, in fact, is the view which Christianity gives of its God. It represents mankind as having no more relation with the divinity than stones. But if God owes nothing to man; if he is not bound to show him either justice or goodness, man on his part can owe nothing to God. We have no idea of any relation between beings which are not reciprocal. The duties of men amongst themselves are founded on their mutual wants. If God has no occasion for these services, they cannot owe him any thing; neither can they possibly offend him by their actions. 5thly, It is a strange remedy to cut off or pluck out a member every time it is the occasion of sin; it contradicts the precept not to make an attempt on one's life. Origen is blamed by the Christians for having performed an operation, which he no doubt judged necessary for preserving his chastity. It is not through the members, but the inclination, that a person sins: it is therefore absurd to say that one shall escape damnation of the body by depriving himself of a member. What would become of so many ecclesiastical libertines, if to appease the lusts of the flesh, and make reparation for scandal, they should take it into their heads to follow the counsel of Jesus? 6thly, The suppression of a just defence of one's person and rights against an aggressor or unjust litigant, is to overturn the laws of society. It is to open a door to iniquities and crimes, and render useless the exercise of justice. By such maxims a people could not exist ten years. To _love_ our enemies is impossible. We may _abstain_ from retaliating on the person by whom we are injured; but love is an affection which can only be excited in the heart by a friendly object. 7thly, The counsel or precept, to possess nothing, amass nothing, and think not of the morrow, would be very prejudicial to families:--a father ought to provide a subsistence for his children. These maxims can suit sluggards only, such as priests and monks, who hold labor in horror, and calculate on living at the expense of the public. 8thly, It is now easy to perceive, that the promises made the Jews by the mouth of Moses, inspired by the divinity, have not been verified literally, and are only allegorical. But it was not from the Son of God that the Jews should have learned this fatal truth. Once imposed on, they ought to have dreaded being again deceived by another envoy. Like Jesus, Moses had made promises; like Jesus, Moses had confirmed his promises and mission by miracles; yet these promises have been found deceptive, and merely allegorical. This idea ought to have created presumptions against the promises of Jesus. 9thly, To say, that it is necessary to be _poor in spirit_, and to say afterwards that to attain heaven it is necessary to be perfect as the heavenly father is perfect, is to make God a stupid being; to afford to atheists a solution for all the evil they perceive in nature; and to assert that to enter paradise one must be a fool. But has man the power of being spiritual or poor in spirit, reasonable or foolish, believing or unbelieving? Is not the holy stupidity of faith a gift which God grants only to whom he will? Is it not unjust to damn people of understanding? Lastly, In this sermon Jesus recommends to beware of _false prophets_, and says, that it is by their works we shall know them. Yet, the priests tell us, "we ought to do as they say, without imitating what they do," when we find their conduct opposed to the maxims they preach. Another sign, therefore, than works ought to have been given whereby to recognize false prophets; otherwise the faithful will be reduced to believe that the clergy are provided only with lying prophets. In this manner unbelievers argue; that is all those who have not received from heaven _poorness of spirit_, so necessary for not perceiving the want of inference, false principles, and numberless inconsistencies, which result from the morality of Jesus. This morality appears a divine _chef d'oeuvre_ to docile Christians illuminated by faith; and it was much admired by those who heard it. We know not, however, if the auditors were so affected by it as to follow it literally. To admire a doctrine, and believe it true and divine, is a thing much more easy than to practice it. Many persons set a higher value on evangelical virtues, which are sublime in theory, than on moral virtues, which reason commands us to practice. It is not then surprising that the supernatural and marvellous morality of Jesus was applauded by those who heard it. It was addressed to paupers, the dregs of the people, and the miserable. An austere stoical morality must please the wretched; it transforms their situation into virtue; it flatters their vanity; makes them proud of their misery; hardens them against the strokes of fortune; and persuades them that they are more valuable than the rich, who maltreat them; and that Deity, which delights in seeing men suffer, prefers the wretched to those who enjoy felicity. On the other hand, the vulgar imagine that those who can restrain their passions, and deprive themselves of what excites the desires of others, are extraordinary beings, agreeable to God, and endowed with preternatural grace, without which they would be incapable of these exertions. Thus a harsh morality, which seems to proceed from insensibility, pleases the rabble, imposes on the ignorant, and is sufficient to excite the admiration of the simple. It is not even displeasing to persons placed in happier situations, who admire the doctrine, well assured of finding the secret to elude the practice of it by the assistance of their indulgent guides. There is only a small number of fanatics who follow it literally. Such were the dispositions which must have induced so many people to receive the instructions of Jesus. His maxims produced a multitude of obstinate martyrs, who, in the hope of opening a road to heaven, set torments and afflictions at defiance. The same maxims produced penitents of every kind, solitaries, anchorites, cenobites, and monks, who, in emulation of each other, rendered themselves illustrious in the eyes of nations by their austerities, voluntary poverty, a total renunciation of the comforts of nature, and a continual struggle against the gentlest and most lawful inclinations. The counsels and precepts of the gospel inundated nations with a vast number of madmen, enemies of themselves, and perfectly useless to others. These wonderful men were admired, respected, and revered as saints by their fellow-citizens, who, themselves deficient in grace or enthusiasm necessary for imitating them, or following faithfully the counsels of the Son of God, had recourse to their intercession, in order to obtain pardon for their sins, and indulgence from the Almighty, whom they supposed irritated at the impossibility in which they found themselves of following literally the precepts of Jesus. In fine, it is easy to perceive that these precepts, rigorously observed, would drag society into total ruin; for society is supported only because that most Christians, admiring the doctrine of the Son of God as divine, dispense with practicing it, and follow the propensity of nature, even at the risk of being damned. In the gospel, Jesus threatens with eternal punishment those who shall not fulfil his precepts. This frightful doctrine was not contradicted in the assembly; the superstitious love to tremble; those who frighten them most, are the most eagerly listened to. This was undoubtedly the time for establishing firmly the dogma of the _spirituality_ and _immortality_ of the soul. The Son of God ought to have explained to those Jews, but little acquainted with this matter, how a part of man could suffer in hell, whilst another part was rotting in the earth. But our preacher was not acquainted with any of the dogmas which this church has since taught. He had not clear ideas of spirituality; he spoke of it only in a very obscure manner: "Fear, (said he, in one place,) him who can throw both body and soul into hell"--words which must have appeared unintelligible in a language in which the soul was taken for the blood or animating principle. It was not till a long time after Jesus, and when some Platonists had been initiated in Christianity, that the spirituality and immortality of the soul were converted into dogmas. Before their time, the Jews and Christians had only vague notions on that important subject. We find doctors in the first ages speaking to us of God and the soul as _material_ substances, more subtile indeed than ordinary bodies. It was reserved for latter metaphysicians to give such sublime ideas of mind, that our understandings are bewildered when employed on them. CHAP. XI. ACTIONS AND PARABLES OF JESUS--ENTERPRIZE OF HIS RELATIONS AGAINST HIM--JOURNEY TO NAZARETH, AND THE SUCCESS JESUS HAD THERE. Though the obstinacy of the doctors of the law and principal men among the Jews, created continual obstacles to the success of Jesus, he did not lose courage; he again had recourse to prodigies, the certain means of captivating the populace, on whom he perceived it was necessary to found his hopes. This people were subject to diseases of the skin, such as leprosy and similar cutaneous disorders. No doubt can be entertained on this point when we consider the precaution which the law of Moses ordains against these infirmities. To establish his reputation, Jesus resolved to undertake the cure of this disgusting disease with which his countrymen were so much infected. According to Luke, a leper prostrated himself at the feet of Jesus, and adored him, saying, that he had heard him spoken of as a very able man, and that, if he was inclined, he could cure him. On this, Jesus merely stretched forth his hand, and the leprosy disappeared. Hitherto, the messiah had only recommended it to those he cured to present themselves to the priests and to offer them the gift prescribed in such cases; but on this occasion he thought that he would reconcile them by strictly enjoining this mark of deference. He, therefore, exacted of the cured leper, that he would satisfy the ordinance of the law; but at the same time recommended secrecy as to the physician's name--a secret which was no better preserved by him than by others. Jesus forgot that it was not sufficient to impose silence on the persons he cured, but that it was likewise necessary to lay a restraint on all the tongues of the spectators; unless indeed it is supposed that these miracles were performed with shut doors, and witnessed by the Saviour's disciples only; or, rather, that they were not performed at all. Meanwhile, the leper's indiscretion was the cause why Jesus, according to Mark, no longer ventured to appear in the city. The priests seem to have taken in ill mood the cure he had performed: He therefore withdrew into the desart, where the more he was followed the more he buried himself in concealment. It was in vain that the people desired to hear him; it was in vain that the sick, who ran after him, requested their cure. He no longer suffered that marvellous virtue, calculated to cure every disorder, to exhale from him. After having wandered for some time in the desart, ruminating on his affairs, he re-appeared at Capernaum. The domestic of a Roman centurion, much beloved by his master, was at the point of death from an attack of the palsy. This Pagan believed that Jesus could easily cure his slave; but, instead of presenting him to the physician as he ought to have done, he deputed some Jewish senators to wait on him. However disagreeable this commission might be to persons whom the centurion had no right to command, and who by that step seemed to acknowledge the mission of Jesus, these senators performed it. Flattered with seeing an idolator apply to him, our miracle-worker set out immediately; but the centurion sent some of his people to inform Jesus that he was not worthy of the honour thus intended him by entering his house; and that to cure his servant it was sufficient to speak only one word. Jesus was delighted with this; he declared, that _he had not found so much faith in Israel_; and with one word, if the gospel may be believed, he performed the cure. He afterwards told the Jews, that if they persisted in their hardness of heart, (the only disease which the Son of God could never cure, though he had come for that purpose,) the idolatrous nations would be substituted in their stead, and that God, notwithstanding his promises, would forever abandon his ancient friends. The gospel, however, does not tell us, whether this centurion, so full of faith, was himself converted. The day after this cure, Jesus having left Capernaum, arrived at Nain, a small town in Galilee, about twenty leagues distant, which proves that the messiah was a great walker. Fortunately he got there in time to perform a splendid miracle. A poor widow had lost her son; they were already carrying him to be burried, and the disconsolate mother, accompanied by a great multitude, followed the funeral procession. Jesus, moved with compassion, approached the bier and laid his hand on it. Immediately those who carried it stopped. _Young man!_ said he, addressing the deceased, _I say to thee, arise_. Forthwith, he who was dead sat up. This miracle terrified all the attendants, but converted nobody. The transaction is related by Luke alone; but even were it better verified, we might justly suspect that the disconsolate mother held secret intelligence with the performer. Some historians have made John Baptist live to this period; others made him die much earlier. Here Matthew and Luke introduce the disciples or the precursor, on purpose to question Jesus on the part of their master. "Art thou he that was to come, or look we for another?" The messiah in reply worked miracles in their presence, cured the sick, cast out devils, and gave sight to the blind; after which he said to John's deputies, "Go and relate to John what you have heard and seen." It was on this occasion that Jesus pronounced the eulogy of John. He had, as we have seen in chapter fourth of this history, his reasons for so doing. "Amongst all those," said he, "that are born of women, verily I say unto you there is not a greater than John Baptist." Our panegyrist profited afterwards by this circumstance to abuse the pharisees and doctors, who rejected both his baptism and John's. He compared these unbelievers to "Children sitting in the market place, and calling to one another: We have piped to you, and you have not danced; we have chaunted funeral airs, and ye have not weeped." But we are not informed that this jargon converted the doctors. After this our speech-maker compared his own conduct with that of the precursor. "John," said he, "came neither eating bread nor drinking wine, and you say he hath a devil. I eat, drink, and love good cheer, yet you reject me also, under pretence that I keep company with men and women of bad reputation." He gave the populace, however, to understand, that their suffrage was sufficient for him; as if he had told them, "I am certain of you--you are too _poor in spirit_ to perceive the irregularity of my conduct--my wonders pass with you; you should not reflect; you are the true _children Of wisdom, which will be justified by you_." After this harangue, a Pharisee, who to judge of him by his conduct had been noways moved by Jesus, invited the orator to dinner; but he used him in the most unpolite manner. He did not cause his feet to be bathed, nor did he present perfumes according to the established custom of the Jews. Though Jesus might be offended at this omission, he did not decline sitting down at table; but while he was eating, a woman of bad fame bathed his feet with her tears, wiped them with her hair, and thereafter anointed them with a precious ointment. The pharisee did not comprehend the mystery. Stupid and incredulous, he conjectured that Jesus did not know the profession of the female; but he was mistaken: the courtezan in question and all her family were intimately connected with the messiah. John informs us, that she was called Mary Magdalane, and that she was the sister of Martha and Lazarus, people well known to Jesus, and who held a regular correspondence with him. In particular it appears, that Magdalane entertained the most tender sentiments for Jesus. This action of the courtezan did not disconcert the Saviour; he explained her love, the attention paid him, and the kisses with which she loaded him, in a mystical and spiritual sense; and assuming the tone of one inspired, he assured her that her sins were forgiven on account of the love she had displayed. Luke informs us in the following chapter, that Jesus had delivered this lady of _seven devils_--a service which well merited her gratitude. Be that as it may, Jesus employed this indirect way of shewing the pharisee the incivility of his behaviour to a man of his consequence. The relations of Jesus, informed of the noise he made, and suspecting that he could not lead a very pure life among the gentry with whom he associated; or fearing that his conduct in the end would draw him into scrapes, went from Nazareth to Capernaum to seize him, and cause him to be confined. They were afraid of being involved in his disgrace, and chose rather to charge themselves with his correction, than to see him delivered up to justice; an event which they perceived was likely soon to happen. They therefore circulated a rumor, that he was a fool, whose brain was disordered. Jesus, informed of the motive of their journey, kept close, and had a prodigy in reserve the moment they should appear. The people, who had a hint of this, or were told of it by the emissaries of the messiah, repaired thither. As soon as the relations appeared, a blind and dumb man possessed with a devil was brought forth. Jesus exorcised him, the possessed was delivered, and the people were in extacies. The doctors beheld with pain the credulity of the rabble, and foresaw the consequences of it. The kinsmen of Jesus, little affected by this miracle, promised to the doctors to use all their efforts to deliver him up to them. He is a sorcerer, said some; he is a prophet, said others; he must prove it, said a third; and, notwithstanding the great miracle he had performed, others added, _Let us ask of him a sign in the air_. "Good God!" said the Nazarenes, "he is neither sorcerer nor prophet; he is a poor lad whose brain is disordered." These speeches being related to Jesus, he answered them by parables and invectives, and defended himself from the charge of being a wizard, by maintaining that it was absurd to suppose he cast out devils by the power of the devil. As to the imputation of folly, he repelled it with affirming that whoever should question his intellect, could not expect the remission of his sins either in this or in the other world. This undoubtedly is what must be understood by _the Sin against the Holy Ghost_. Nevertheless the midway course of demanding a sign was followed; for this purpose a deputation was sent to Jesus; but instead of a sign in the air, he gave them one in the water. He referred our inquisitive folks to Jonas, and told them they should have no other sign; for, added he, "As Jonas was three days and three nights in the belly of the whale, so shall the Son of man be three days and three nights in the heart of the earth." These Jews who were neither wizards nor prophets, could not comprehend this language. Jesus, to whom miracles cost nothing when every thing was arranged for performing them, did not risk himself by working them _impromptu_, or in the presence of those he judged acute enough to examine them. On this occasion he put off these poor Jews, whom he calculated on converting to himself for ever, with an unintelligible answer. Having refused to perform a prodigy in the air, he began to rail at them. He got into a passion, and launched out in prophetical invectives against the Jews. He compared the conduct of the queen of Sheba with theirs; boasted of _his_ being greater and wiser than Solomon; and threatened to deprive them of the light which he shed in their country. We are of opinion, however, that, if he had deigned to give the sign demanded, he would have spread this light much further. But the messiah felt that a sign in the air was much more difficult than those he had given on the earth, where he was better able to arrange matters than aloft in the atmosphere, a region in which there was nobody to concert with. Meanwhile Jesus' mother had joined her other children and relations in order to induce them to desist from their pursuit, but she could not prevail on them. They persisted in the design of apprehending our adventurer. As however, they could not penetrate through the multitude and get close up to him, they sent notice they were there. "Behold," said some one to Jesus, "thy mother and thy brethren who seek thee."--Jesus knowing the object of their visit which he was no ways eager to receive, abjured such froward relations; "Who is my mother, and who are my brethren?" said he; after which, stretching forth his hand towards the people, "_Behold_," added he, "_my mother and brethren_; I know no other kinsmen than those who hearken to my word, and put it in practice." The people, flattered with the preference, took Jesus under their protection, and the attempt of his family was thus turned to their confusion. Escaped from this perilous adventure, afraid of being ensnared or mistrusting the constancy of the populace, who, notwithstanding the pleasure they found in seeing him perform his juggles, might desert him at last, Jesus thought proper to provide for his safety by leaving the town. He accordingly departed with his twelve apostles, the ladies of his train, Mary his mother, Jane and Magdalane, _who assisted the company with their property_. No doubt the last, who before she was with the messiah had made gain of her charms, was rich in jewels and ready money. This rendered her conversion of great importance to the sect, and especially to Jesus, who could not, without cruelty, refuse to repay so much love with a little return. The persecution which Jesus experienced excited an interest in his behalf, and it would seem procured him greater countenance. A multitude of people impelled by curiosity, as soon as they knew the road he had taken, went out of the towns and hamlets in the environs to see him. To avoid being incommoded by the crowd, he again resolved to go on board a vessel, from which he preached to those on shore; but recollecting the trouble, which his former sermons had brought him into, he did not think it prudent to explain himself so clearly. He, therefore, preferred speaking in parables, which are always susceptible of a double meaning. One day chagrined at his little success, he distinctly avowed that he had changed his resolution as to the jews, and meant to abandon their conversion. The reason for doing, so he expressed to them in parables; "that seeing, they may not perceive, and hearing they may not understand, lest at any time they should be converted, and their sins should be forgiven them." It must be owned that it is very difficult to reconcile this conduct of God. Were we not afraid of committing sacrilege by hazarding objections on the mission of Jesus, might it not be presumed that at first he had the design of giving laws to the Jews; but perceiving afterwards his little success, he resolved to seek his fortune elsewhere, and gain other subjects? What he communicated to his disciples in this secret view, appears to have been for the purpose of preparing them for this change; but his punishment prevented all his designs, which were not executed till a long time after by his apostles, who no doubt carefully treasured up this conference. We shall not enter into a detail of all the parables which Jesus employed in communicating his marvellous doctrine to the Jews, or preaching without being understood. Such a discussion would become very tiresome; we therefore advise those who may have a taste for such kind of apologues rather to read those of Esop or La Fontaine, which they will find more amusing and more instructive than the fables of Jesus. Those, however, who wish to consult the parables of the gospel, will find them in the following places:--The parable of the _sower_, Luke, viii. 5--of the _concealed lamp_, ib. viii. 16--of the _tares_, Matt. xiii. 24--of the _seed_, Mark iv. 26--of the _grain of mustard_, Matt. xiii. 31--of the _leaven_, ib. xiii. 33--of the _hidden treasure_, ib. xiii. 44--of the _pearl_, ib. xiii. 45--of the _net cast into the sea_, ib. 47--and of the _father of the family_, ib. 52. Jesus informed that his brothers and cousins were from home, went to Nazareth accompanied with his apostles. He perhaps wanted to convince his countrymen that he was not such a fool as was reported. Probably he hoped to confer with his family, and gain them over to his party. He arrived on the Sabbath, and repaired to the synagogue: immediately the priest very politely presented him with a book; he opened it, and stumbled precisely on this passage of Isaiah: "The spirit of the Lord has rested upon me, and therefore I am anointed to preach." Having shut the book, he delivered it to the priest and sat down; but he did not neglect to apply to himself this passage of the prophet, where also mention is made of miracles and prodigies. There were present, either by chance or design, several Gallileans, who having been witnesses of the marvels Jesus had previously performed, did not hesitate to bear testimony in his favour. But the Nazarenes, who knew what to think of him, were shocked at his magisterial tone. "Is not this," said they to one another, "the carpenter, the son of Joseph the carpenter? Is not his mother called Mary? Are not his brethren and sisters with us? Whence then has he so much skill? How, and by what means does he work miracles?" Jesus, hearing these remarks, saw plainly that this was not the proper place for performing prodigies. But he wished that his inaction might be attributed to the evil dispositions of his countrymen, who were surprised to hear the sagacity and power of a man extolled whose conduct appeared to them very equivocal. "I perceive," said Jesus to them, "that you apply to me the proverb, Physician cure thyself; and that, to prove the truth of what you have heard of me, you wish me to perform some of those miracles which I have elsewhere exhibited; but I know I shall labour in vain in this city: I am too well convinced of the truth of the proverb, No man is a prophet in his own country." To justify himself he quoted examples which would seem to throw a suspicion on the miracles of the prophets of the Old Testament, whom this proverb, even by itself, was calculated to make pass for knaves. Whatever opinion we may form of this, he cited the example of Elias, who, among all the widows of Israel, did not find one more deserving of a miracle than her of Sarepta, a woman of the country of the Sidonians. In the days of Elias, Judea was overrun with lepers; and yet the prophet cured Naaman, who was a Syrian and an idolater, in preference to his countrymen. This harangue, which insinuated the reprobation and perversity of the audience, excited their rage so much that they dragged the orator out of the synagogue, and led him to the top of a mountain with an intention to throw him down headlong; but he had the good fortune to escape, and thus avoid the fate which was intended him in the place of his nativity. Matthew, speaking of this journey to Nazareth, says that his master did not perform many miracles there on account of the unbelief of the inhabitants. But Mark says positively, that he could not do any, which is still more probable. Our luminous interpreters and commentators believe, that Jesus escaped only by a miracle out of the hands of the Nazarenes. But would it have cost him more to perform a miracle in order to convert them, and thereby prevent their mischievous designs? This was all that was required of him, in order to save himself and place his person in security. Jesus never performed miracles but with certain loss; he always dispensed with working any when they would have been decisive, and beneficial. CHAPTER XII. MISSION OF THE APOSTLES.--THE INSTRUCTIONS JESUS GAVE THEM.--MIRACLES WROUGHT UNTIL THE END OF THE SECOND YEAR OF HIS OWN MISSION. Dissatisfied with his expedition to Nazareth, Jesus went to Upper Gallilee, which had already been the theatre of his wonders. He found the disposition of the inhabitants of that country better adapted to his purpose. He perceived, however, that the necessity they were under of suspending their labor to come and hear him, kept a great number at home. This consideration obliged him to disperse his apostles by two and two in the province. It is probable he resolved on this dispersion because he found his own sermons and prodigies did not gain many proselytes. The continual enterprizes of his enemies made him feel the necessity of increasing his party. It appears that Jesus had already sent several of his disciples on missions, retaining near himself his twelve apostles only. It may, however, be presumed, that these preachers were as yet mere novices, as their labors were unsuccessful, the devils obstinately resisting their exorcisms. Yet this want of success was owing solely to the weakness of their faith, and would seem to throw a shade on the foresight and penetration of their divine master. Why did he send missionaries whose dispositions were not sufficiently known to him? Besides, it belonged to him alone to bestow on them a necessary stock of faith for their journey. Whatever opinion way be formed of this, those of the apostles, who never quitted their master, who saw him continually operating, who enjoyed his confidence, and had faith from the first hand--were better qualified than the others to labor to the satisfaction of the public. Fully resolved to make a desperate effort, Jesus renewed all their powers, and gave them his instructions, of which the following is the substance: "Every thing being well considered, do not go among the Gentiles, for our Jews will charge it as a crime against you, and as a reproach against me. It is true, I have already threatened to renounce them, but it is still necessary to make one attempt more; you will therefore preach to the Jews only. Repentance supposes sobriety and few wants; hence the inutility of riches. I have no money to give you, but strive to pick up for yourselves what you can. Providence will provide for you; if he takes care of the sparrows, he will take care of you. Moreover expect to be ill received, reviled, and persecuted; but be of good courage; all is for the best. Silence is no longer requisite; preach openly and on the house tops what I have spoken to you in secret. Inform the world that I am the messiah, the son of David and the Son of God. We have no longer to observe discretion; we must either conquer or die; away then with pusillanimity. "Though I send you forth as sheep in the midst of wolves, explain to the good people that you are under the safeguard of the Most High, who will take a terrible revenge for the outrages offered you, and liberally reward those who welcome you. You do not require to concert measures for supplying your wants; it belongs to those whose souls you are going to save to provide you in necessaries for the body. Carry not therefore either gold, or silver, or provision, or two suits of raiment; take a good cudgel, and depart in the name of the Lord. "Take care in your way always to preach that _the kingdom of heaven is at hand_. Speak of the end of the world: this will intimidate women and poltroons. On entering cities and villages, inform yourself of such credulous people as are very charitable and prepossessed in our favor. You will salute them civilly; saying _Peace be to this house_. But the peace you bring must be _allegorical_; for my doctrine is calculated to create trouble, discord, and division every where. Whoever would follow me, must abandon father, mother, kinsmen, and family; we want only fanatics and enthusiasts, who attaching themselves wholly to us, trample every human consideration under foot. _I came not to send peace, but a sword._ As a like conduct might embroil you with your hosts, you will change your abode from time to time. Do not rely on the power I have of raising the dead the safest way for you is not to risk your being killed; shun therefore places where you may be menaced with persecution. Abandon disobedient cities and houses, _shaking the dust from off your feet_. Tell them, that they have incurred the punishment of Sodom and Gomorrah. Declare, in my name, that the divine vengeance is ready to make them sensible of their guilt, and that the inhabitants of these cities will be less rigorously punished than those who shall have the audacity to resist your lessons. The great and last day is at hand. I assure you that you will not have finished your tour through all the cities of Israel before the son of man shall arrive." Such is the sense and spirit of the instructions which Jesus gave to his apostles. In charging them to divulge his secret, he gave them a commission, which, notwithstanding his omnipotence, he himself dared not execute. But it was a grand policy to have instruments to act without exposing himself to personal injury. These trifles, however, scarcely merit notice:--We are more surprised to find the Son of God proclaiming peace and charity, and at the same time asserting that he brings war and hatred. It is without doubt a God only who can reconcile these contradictions. It is besides unquestionable, that the apostles, and especially their successors in the sacred ministry have, in preaching their gospel, brought on the world troubles and divisions unknown in all other preceding religions. The incredulous, who by the way refer to the history of the church, find, that the _glad tidings_ which a God came on purpose to announce, have plunged the human race into tears and blood. It is obvious from this language, that Jesus charged people of property with the maintenance of his apostles. Their successors have taken sufficient advantage of this, and through it assumed an authority to exercise the most cruel extortions on impoverished nations. Would not the Almighty have rendered his apostles more respectable by rendering them incapable of suffering, and exempting them from the wants of nature? This would have given more weight to their sublime sermons and those of their infallible successors. Critics maintain also, that it was false to say eighteen hundred years ago that _the end of the world was near_, and still more false to affirm that the great Judge would arrive before the apostles could make the tour of the cities of Israel. It is true, theologists understand that the end of the world shall happen when all the Jewish cities, that is, when all the Jews shall be converted. Time will demonstrate whether it be in that sense we ought to understand the words of Jesus: meanwhile the world still remains, and does not appear to threaten speedy ruin. It is probable that, besides these public instructions, Jesus gave more particular ones to his apostles. They departed in the hope of charities which they were to receive from Jews, of whom the greatest number were already in a state of reprobation. Jesus altered his orders in part; he reserved for himself the cities, and left the villages to his apostles. Accordingly they went here and there, calling out, _Hearken to the glad tidings; the world is near its end. Repent therefore, pray, fast, and give us money and provisions, for having acquainted you with this interesting secret._ We are assured that they cured several diseases by the application of a certain oil. They had doubtless done more excellent things, but the _paraclete_ (the comforter) was not yet come: maugre the instructions of the Son of God, the understandings of the apostles were not yet sufficiently brightened; for we do not find that the missionaries, with their balsam and fine speeches, made any converts. The incredulous are still much surprised to find in the instructions of Jesus to his apostles, an explicit order to labor only for the conversion of the Jews, and an express prohibition against preaching to the Gentiles. They maintain, that a righteous God could make no distinction of persons; that the common father of mankind must show an equal love to all his children: that it cost no more to the Almighty to convert and save all nations; that a God, who is friendly to one country only, is a God purely local, and cannot be the God of the universe; and that a God partial, exclusive, and unjust, who follows caprice alone in his choice, can neither be perfect nor the model of perfection. In short, those who have not the happiness of being _sacredly_ blinded by faith, cannot comprehend how the equitable and wise Lord of all the nations of the earth could cherish exclusively the Jewish people; his infinite prescience ought to have shown him that his love and favors would be completely lost on this untractable people. Unbelievers remark, that it does not become the Son of God to exclaim, "Woe unto thee, Chorazin! woe unto thee, Bethsaida! for if the mighty works which were done in you had been done in Tyre and Sidon, they would have repented long ago in sackcloth and ashes." Would it not have been wiser to have gone and preached to cities so docile, where Jesus was certain of success, than to persist in preaching to the Jews, of whom he was not certain of making converts? Jesus went about preaching through many cities of Gallilee; but deprived of the assistance of his confidents, he did not work any wonders. We have seen the magistrates and the great paying little attention to his conduct. They despised one whom they regarded a vagrant, or a fool little to be feared. 'Tis true, that some of Herod's officers are said to have been on the watch, with the pharisees, to destroy him; but this combination had no success. After all, he gave umbrage only to the priests and the doctors of the law, against whom he declaimed with the greatest indecorum. By this conduct he rendered himself agreeable to the people, weary of the extortions of these bloodsuckers, who, without pity, drained the nation, treated the poor with disdain, and, as the parable of the priest and the Samaritan evinces, were destitute of charity. The priests and doctors were very numerous in Jerusalem; on which account the people in the capital were less disposed than elsewhere to listen to our preacher, and the influence of the priests was the cause of the hatred and contempt entertained against him in this great city. By a singular contrariety, the most obscure interval in our hero's life was that wherein he acquired the greatest renown. Jesus was wholly unknown at the court of Herod; while at the head of his troop, and surrounded by multitudes, he chased away devils, gave sight to the blind and speech to the mute, expelled the sellers from the temple, and raised the dead. But while he led a private life in Gallilee; when, during the mission of his apostles, he found himself alone and without followers, and content with preaching repentance, it was then that his fame, penetrating even to the throne, excited in the monarch a desire to see him. According to Luke, a ray of light struck the heart of Herod; doubt filled his mind; "John," said he, "I have caused to be beheaded, but he must have risen from the dead, and, therefore, it is that so many miracles are performed by him; but who should this be of whom I hear such great things?" Herod wished to see Jesus to explain these matters, and for this purpose he sent for him. If nature had given Jesus a right to the throne of Judea, we might judge his motives for not putting himself in the power of a prince, the usurper of his crown. But Jesus could not dissemble that his pretensions were not well established; he knew that for a long time the family of David had lost the sovereign power. We must, therefore, search for another motive for his refusing to see Herod, as the interview with the Son of God would not only have contributed to the conversion of this prince and his court, but of all Judea, and perhaps of the whole Roman empire. A single miracle of consequence, performed before a court, and acknowledged and attested by persons of high authority, would have been more effectual than the suspected testimony of all the peasantry and vagabonds in Gallilee. Far from complying with the request of Herod, and conferring so eminent a benefit, Jesus withdrew into a desert as soon as he learned the prince's intention. He, who often uttered the most terrible curses against such as rejected him, scorned the invitation of a sovereign, and fled into a desert, instead of laboring for his conversion. The messiah, who made no difficulty in entering the house of a centurion to heal his slave, refused to visit a monarch in order to cure his blindness, and bring back to himself all his subjects, for whom, he affirmed, that he was specially sent! Our theologians explain these contradictions by referring to the inexplicable decrees of Providence. But the incredulous maintain, that Jesus, who well knew how to work wonders in the eyes of a simple populace, dared not to expose himself before an enlightened court; and it must be owned, that the manner in which he comported himself before his judges, strengthens this opinion. Meanwhile, the mission of the apostles expired. In a short time they had traversed Gallilee; and it appears from the repast which Jesus soon after gave to a crowd of people, that the preaching of his missionaries had procured an abundant harvest. Loaded with the alms of the Gallileans, the apostles returned to their master, who again found himself incommoded by the multitude which flocked to see him. To enjoy more liberty, the party embarked on board a small vessel, which conveyed them across the sea of Gallilee. There, in a retired spot, the apostles gave an account of the success of their mission; they made arrangements for the future, and especially secured their provisions in a place of safety. Those who had seen Jesus embark, thought, perhaps, they were forever to be deprived of the pleasure of seeing him perform wonders. They made the tour of the lake, and though on foot, reached the other side before Jesus arrived there in his vessel. He preached, wrought miracles, and cured the diseased; and these labors lasted until the evening. His disciples then advised him to send the people in search of lodging and victuals in the neighboring villages. He made no reply on the article of lodging;--there were doubtless few persons in this multitude who were accustomed to sleep on down.--Besides, the nights were likely not cold in that season and climate. But, wishing to amuse himself with the embarrassment of those who made the proposal, and who might not know the resources which the collections of his apostles had procured, "it is not necessary," said he, "that they should go into the villages; give them yourselves wherewith to eat." "Think you so?" replied they,--"shall we go and buy two hundred penny-worth of bread, and give them to eat?"--Philip, who perhaps was not in the secret, represented the impossibility of finding bread to feed this multitude. On which Jesus said to Peter, "See how many loaves you have." He found none--a circumstance the more surprising, as, according to Mark, they had withdrawn to this place "on purpose to eat." Peter, without answering the question, said to his master, "There is a young lad here, who has five barley loaves and two small fishes." Jesus ordered them to be brought, and made the multitude range themselves in companies of hundreds and of fifties. From this arrangement it appeared that there were five thousand men, besides women and children. When every one had taken his place on the grass, Jesus, according to the usage of the Jews, blessed the loaves and fishes, broke, and distributing them among the apostles, who gave thereof to the people as much as they desired. They likewise filled twelve baskets with the fragments of this celebrated entertainment. The guests, penetrated with admiration, exclaimed, "This is of a truth a prophet, and that prophet who should come into the world;" which, translated into ordinary language, means, the true Amphitrion is he who gives us our dinner. The apostles spoke not a word. Some critics, perceiving the impossibilities this miracle presents, have ventured to doubt the truth of it, as if the _impossibility_ of things could prejudice the reality of a miracle, the essence of which is to produce things impossible. Yet if attention is given to the account of the evangelists, who are not, however, very unanimous on particulars, we shall find, that this miracle presents nothing impossible if we are inclined to give any credit to the prudence of the Son of God; who, on this occasion, found that he could not make a better use of the provisions amassed by his apostles, than to distribute them to a hungry multitude. By this act, he saw himself certain of gaining their favor. It may be the crowd was not quite so numerous as is related. Besides, our apostles, in passing to the opposite shore, might have thrown their nets with sufficient success to furnish fish for the whole company. This meal must have appeared miraculous to persons who knew that Jesus had no fortune, and lived on alms. We accordingly find, that the people wanted to proclaim king the person who had so sumptuously regaled them. The entertainment no doubt recalled to their mind the idea of a messiah, under whose government abundance was to reign. No more was requisite to induce a handful of miserables to believe, that the preacher, who by a miracle fed them so liberally, must be the extraordinary man the nation expected. This great miracle then will become very probable, by supposing that the apostles in their collection had received a large quantity of bread. They amused themselves, as has been observed, with fishing while they crossed the lake; Jesus gave them the hint:--when evening was come, things were disposed without the observation of the people, who were thus fed with provisions amassed by very natural means. Though the Gallileans wished to proclaim Jesus king, he did not think proper to accept an honor which he found himself for the present incapable of supporting. His exhausted provisions did not suffer him to undertake the frequent entertaining of so many guests at his own expense; and though this conduct, much more than all his other miracles, would have gained him the affections of the beggars, idlers, and vagabonds of the country, the necessity of his affairs prevented him from recurring to it. Thus Jesus crowned the second year of his mission with an action well adapted to conciliate the love of the people, and at the same time give uneasiness to the magistrates. This stroke of eclat must doubtless have alarmed those in power, who perceived that the affair might become very serious, especially considering the intention of the Gallileans to proclaim our adventurer king. The priests probably profitted by these dispositions in order to destroy Jesus, who at all times appeared anxious to gain the populace, in order to aid him in subduing the great. This project might have succeeded if Judea, as in times past, had been governed by kings of its own nation, who, as the Bible shows, depended continually on the caprice of priests, of prophets, or of the first comer, who by predictions, declamations, and wonders, could, at will, stir up the Hebrew nation, and dispose of the crown: whereas in the time of Jesus the Roman government had nothing to fear from the efforts of superstition. [CHAPTER XIII.] JESUS REPASSES INTO GALLILEE ABOUT THE TIME OF THE THIRD PASSOVER IN HIS MISSION--WHAT HE DID UNTIL THE TIME HE LEFT IT. The expression of John, who tells us, that _Jesus knowing_ the guests he had entertained _would come and take him by force on purpose to make him their king_, demonstrates that these guests had withdrawn at the end of the entertainment. This observation enabled us to fix pretty correctly the route of Jesus, and affords a reason for his conduct. It was already late when the disciples said to their master, that it was time to send away the people. The preparations for the repast must have consumed time: the distribution of the victuals required also some hours; so that daylight could not have been far off when the meal was finished, and when Jesus dismissed his guests. It was about the evening he learned the design they had of carrying him off to make him king; and it was not until after having received this intelligence, that he resolved to conceal himself in a mountain, after having dispatched his disciples to Capernaum. To reach the place, the latter were obliged to make several tacks; when Jesus, observing this, changed his resolution, and set out for Gennesaret, on the north side of the lake. Seeing him approach at the moment they thought him far off in the recesses of the mountain, his disciples were terrified; _they took him for a spirit_, for spirits were very common in Judea. They were confirmed in their opinion when they perceived his shadow near the vessel. Simon Peter observing him advance, did not doubt but he was walking on the waters. In attempting to go and meet his master, he felt himself sinking; but Jesus took him by the hand, and saved him from the danger. After reprimanding him for his cowardice, he went with him on board the ship. The apostles, who had not been much struck with the miracle of the five loaves, were astonished at this. They had been in great fear, and fear disposes to believe; in their distress they confessed unanimously, _that he was the Son of God_. Jesus reached Gennesaret at noon. There several of his guests recognized him, and announced his arrival to others. They presented him the diseased, and he performed a great number of cures. We cannot too much admire the faith of the Gallileans, who exposed at all seasons their sick in the streets, and the complaisance of Jesus, who indefatigably cured them. The guests at the miraculous supper, whom their affairs called home, had returned; but the greatest number, that is, all the laboring people, having seen Jesus' ship steer for Capernaum, had set out by land for that city. Some vessels from Tiberias arrived there at the same time, but none carried Jesus, and nobody had seen him; for he had made his passage during night. The crowd, however, remained, in hopes of being again entertained _gratis_, when they learned at Capernaum that Jesus was on the opposite shore. Immediately, all our idle folks set out, either by land or by water, to visit him. But these parasites, instead of finding a repast served out on the grass, were entertained with a sermon. Jesus, who had not always wherewith to defray the expenses of so numerous a court, held forth to them this language: "Verily, verily, I say unto you, ye seek me, not because you saw the miracles, but because ye did eat of the loaves, and were filled." "Labour," added he, "for life everlasting.----" His hearers, whose ideas extended not beyond the present life, did not comprehend what Jesus meant; they therefore asked him what it was requisite they should do; on which he told them that it was necessary they should become his disciples, as he was the messiah. Here we are surprised to find them asking of Jesus, What sign showest thou then that we may believe? What extraordinary thing do you perform for that purpose? You will perhaps instance the supper you gave us; but did not our fathers eat manna in the desert for forty years? And after all, what is your supper in comparison with that wonder? From this we may perceive that Jesus labored in vain to draw over these Gallileans to his party. The continuation of the miraculous repast was alone capable of moving them. It was to no purpose Jesus maintained, that the bread with which Moses had fed their fathers, was not the bread of heaven, which alone could properly nourish. _An empty belly has no ears_; so they suffered him to preach on. After he had spoken a great deal--Well, said they, give us this bread which alone nourishes, for it signifies little to us what kind of bread we eat; but some we must have. Promise to furnish us with it at all times, and at this price we shall be at your devotion. If Jesus at this moment had possessed the same resources as formerly, he would have been able, at little expense, to form a small army, which the assurance of having food without toil would have soon increased; but all failed. These people offered themselves providing he would always furnish them with bread. The proposition was urgent, and Jesus got off with so bad a grace, that his disciples themselves were shocked at it. He said to them, that he himself was bread, that his flesh was meat, and his blood wine; and that those only who eat it would be raised up, and conducted to everlasting banquets. Our dull folks comprehended none of this mysterious jargon, contrived on purpose to puzzle them. Perceiving that they were not moved by it, he informed them that in order to follow him, a particular _call_ was necessary, and that as they were not disposed to do this, they were, therefore, not called. The adherents Jesus obtained on this occasion were but few. The Jews were indignant that he should pretend to have descended from heaven. We _know_, said they, his _father and mother_, and we _know where he was born_. These rumors, spreading as far as Jerusalem, so irritated the priests that they resolved on his death; but the son of God, by skilful marches and countermarches, disconcerted their vigilance. It was especially in the capital that they wished to ensnare him; but Jesus had not been lately there. His distance from the metropolis did not, however, prevent them from knowing his most secret proceedings; and from this he concluded there were some false brethren among his disciples. He was not deceived; but the fear of being betrayed in a country where his resources began to fail, induced him to dissemble till he should arrive in a place of safety. He set out, therefore, for Capernaum. At this place he recited nearly the same sermon he had in vain preached to the Gallileans. But no one would consent to receive as food his flesh and blood. Those who enjoyed his confidence knew that he gave better cheer; but his other disciples asserted that they could not subsist on this mysterious mess, and took their leave of him. Unable to do better, Jesus was obliged to let them depart. Observing the defection of a part of his followers, our adventurer was vexed at it; and, in sorrow for the injuries it would occasion, he asked the twelve, "And will you also leave me?" On which Simon Peter answered, "Lord, to whom shall we go? thou hast the words of eternal life. And we believe, and are sure, that thou art the Christ, the son of the living God." Thus Jesus was assured, in the best way he could, of the fidelity of his apostles; yet we see, in spite of his infinite knowledge, that he always kept the traitor Judas in his company, though he must have foreseen that he would deliver him up to his enemies. Meanwhile, Jesus set out for Gallilee, whither his apostles followed him, though his last preaching, and particularly the refusal of victuals, had dissatisfied the Gallileans. They did not, indeed, give him a welcome reception. The arrival of some pharisees and doctors from Jerusalem completely marred everything. They were deputed by the chiefs in the capital to watch the conduct of Jesus, and to put the people on their guard. Every one knows how strictly the Jews adhere to the ceremonies of their law; and, in spite of his protestations of attachment to it, Jesus, like his trusty friends, observed none of its ordinances. It was particularly offensive that they ate without washing their hands. But he defended himself with saying, that it was better to violate traditions and neglect ceremonies, than to infringe the commandments of God, as the doctors did. He advanced, contrary to express law, _that nothing which enters the body defiles it, and that it is what comes out of it that renders it impure_. This seems to establish, that Jesus and his party were not scrupulous as to their victuals. Thereafter he launched out in invectives against the doctors, whom he called hypocrites, ignorant and blind, who directed others that were also blind. In his anger he did not perceive that the compliment was not less offensive to the people than to their guides. On this account the latter entertained a deep resentment, but the populace did not regard it. Besides, Jesus did not allow them time for reflection: he engaged their attention by a fine discourse, to prove that lawyers and priests were the worst of men and the least charitable, and, that none could be happy, either in this world or in the other, without becoming his disciples. He was now informed that there was no safety for him in this place. He therefore left it in great haste, intending to go towards the frontiers of Tyre and Sidon. His design was to live concealed in the country; but with such great renown as that of our hero it was difficult to continue long unknown. The secret of his retreat was divulged; and, as misfortune sometimes turns to good, this trifling duplicity gave him an opportunity of performing a miracle among the Gentiles. A woman of Canaan besought him to deliver her daughter from a devil that tormented her. Jesus at first made her no answer. She insisted; the apostles interceded, and pressed their master to grant her request, merely to silence her; for she was clamorous, and might have disclosed that he was the messiah. He defended himself on the plea of being sent to the Jews only, and not to the Heathen. They again besought him, and answered his comparison by another. He at length yielded; and the girl was delivered from her devil, or her vapors. The success of Jesus in this country terminated with this miracle. He passed into Decapolis, and there acquired some consequence from the cure of a dumb and deaf man on pronouncing the word _Epheta_, and then putting his finger into his ears and spittle on his tongue. Our missionary on this occasion made a sufficiently abundant harvest of alms. He moreover wrought a number of miracles on the sick, the cripple, and the maimed. But it was his custom to steal away when his miraculous power began to make a noise; he accordingly withdrew to a mountain at the distance of three days journey from the place where he had performed so many miracles. The people followed him in his retreat, and it appears that they did so without eating. Loaded with provisions or money procured by his miracles, Jesus again saw himself in a situation to lay the table cloth. As if he knew nothing of this, he asked one of his apostles how many loaves they had: seven was the answer. He then ordered the multitude to sit down on the ground; and taking the loaves, blessed them, together with some small fishes. These were distributed to four thousand men, besides women and children, who were all satisfied; and with the remains of the repast, they afterwards filled seven baskets. This prodigy appears to be a mere repetition of what we have related before; yet St. Chrysostom maintains, that the difference of the number of baskets proves irrefragably they must not be confounded. Admitting this, it would appear that Jesus once more sacrificed the money and provisions his prodigies had enabled him to amass. It was necessary to gain the people, and he at that time felt he had very great need of them; he was generous when he had the means to be so, and he had not forgotten that they had promised to follow him, provided he would give them food. The evangelists, however, overheated with the idea of this miracle, forgot another equally deserving their notice. It was indeed a prodigy to see four thousand men, without reckoning, women and little children, following Jesus during three days without eating or drinking; or else we must believe, that, prepared to travel, these people had provided themselves with provisions, which suddenly failed. But, in a desert, whence came the baskets they made use of in gathering up the remains of the entertainment? It is to be presumed, that they dropt down from heaven. But why not make loaves and fishes drop down also? It was undoubtedly requisite to feed this multitude during the three days march necessary for their return. But would it not have been a short way to have made the people feel neither hunger nor thirst? Would it not have been easier, by an effort of mercy, to have converted at once all the inhabitants of Judea, and spared Jesus the trouble of so many entertainments, flights, marches, and countermarches, which at last terminated in a manner so tragical to this hero of the romance? The pharisees and sadducees did not lose sight of Jesus: on learning that he had returned to the interior of the kingdom, they went in search of him. The evangelists, it is suspected, made them much worse than they were in reality, by representing them as eager to ruin them. Was it then so difficult to arrest thirteen men? Be that as it may, the Pharisees at this time accosted Jesus very politely, and demanded of him a miracle. "You perform them," said they, "by dozens, in presence of a thousand people, who by your own confession, do not believe in you; give us then a specimen of your skill, and we shall be less opiniative than those of whom you complain. Do then show us this condescension." Jesus was inexorable, and perpetually referred them to Jonas. This refusal offended them: he, in turn, inveighed against them; and as the presence of these inconvenient spectators rendered his power useless, he quitted them in order to go to Bethsaida. On the way, his apostles asked him the reason of his refusal to work a miracle in presence of persons who entreated him in so handsome a manner; on which Jesus, by a figure, gave them to understand, that he could not operate before people so clear-sighted; "Beware," said he, "of the leaven of the Pharisees, and of the leaven of Herod." Our silly folks, who had not time to provide bread, thought their master meant to reprove them for their negligence. Any other but Jesus would have laughed at the mistake, but the state of his affairs chagrined him, and he treated them very harshly. On entering Bethsaida, they brought him a blind man whom he cured by applying spittle to his eyes. This remedy at first produced a pleasant effect: the man saw other men, like trees, walking; Jesus then laid his hands on him, and immediately he saw quite otherwise. But this miracle gained no conquest to the messiah. He, therefore, went to try his fortune in the villages in the environs of Caesarea-Philippi. It is in this journey that asking his apostles what they thought of him, some said, that he passed for Elias, others for Jeremiah, &c.; but Peter openly confessed that he acknowledged him for the Christ: a confession which has since gained him the honor of supremacy in the sacred college, and of being declared the head of the church. Though sovereign in heaven, Jesus possessed nothing on earth, and of course could confer no temporal gifts. Instead of these, he gave his disciples the spiritual privilege of damning and saving the rest of mankind at their pleasure. He promised to Peter the place of _door-keeper of Paradise_, since become so lucrative an office to his successors and assigns. Meanwhile Jesus recommended silence to the party on this promotion; but perhaps the traitor Judas, not satisfied with the office of treasurer, did not preserve the secret. Notwithstanding the suffrage of Peter, the consequences which might result from the choler of the priests were always present to the mind of Jesus. Cried down and rejected, he presumed, with good sense, that, being once excluded from all the provinces, and the Gentiles not much inclined to receive for legislator a Jew, expelled his own country, he would be constrained sooner or later, to return to Jerusalem, where he must expect to meet with perilous adventures. On the other hand, the Romans, masters of the forces over whom the Jews could arrogate no authority, would very quickly have put an end to the mission of a man whom they must have regarded either as a fool or as a disturber of the public peace, if he should have dared to declare against them. It is evident, indeed, that the mission of Jesus existed in Judea merely because the Romans were not much displeased that a restless and turbulent people should amuse themselves with following a man of his character--a pretended messiah, to whose appearance the prepossessions of the nation gave rise. Always certain of being able to crush those who dared to undertake the boldest enterprises, they troubled themselves little about what might be done in the country by a party no way formidable to an authority seconded by disciplined legions. The situation of the Son of God must have alarmed his companions, however dull we may suppose them to have been. It was, therefore, necessary to devise means to encourage those at least who were the honest dupes of his vain promises. He did not dissemble the bad state of his affairs, the fate he had to dread, and the death with which he was menaced. He anticipated them on this subject, and declared that even if he should suffer death, they must not be discouraged, for at the end of three days he would rise triumphant from the tomb. We shall afterwards see the use the apostles made of this prediction, which must at the time have appeared to them as foolish as incredible. To retain them as his followers, and revive their zeal, Jesus entertained them incessantly with the beauty of his Father's kingdom; but he told them that to arrive there, they must have courage, love him sincerely, and consent to suffer with him. These melancholy sermons demonstrated the situation of the orator, and tended rather to depress than incite the courage of his auditory. He, therefore, thought it seasonable to present to his disciples a specimen of the glory which he had so often vaunted. For this purpose he exhibited the brilliant spectacle of the _transfiguration_. All the apostles were not witnesses of it: he granted this favor to three only, Peter, James, and John, his most intimate confidents, to whom he recommended silence. This scene took place, it is said, on mount Thabor. There Jesus appeared irradiated with glory, accompanied with two others, whom the apostles took for Moses and Elias, and whom, as far as we can discover, they had never seen before. A cloud unexpectedly enveloped the three luminous bodies; and when they no longer beheld any person, a voice was heard pronouncing these words, _This is my beloved Son_. The disciples were asleep while the spectacle was displayed--a circumstance which has occasioned a suspicion, that the whole was only a dream. The apostles, who remained at the foot of the mountain, and had been deprived of this spectacle, wished to try their spiritual powers on a lunatic, or one possessed; but the devil disregarded their exorcisms. The father of the disordered person, perceiving their master descending from the mountain, immediately presented his son to him, whom Jesus cured; he then gave a strong reprimand to those _fumblers_; told them that their want of success was owing to want of faith, a grain of which was sufficient to remove mountains; and recommended to them fasting and prayer, as the surest means of expelling certain demons more rebellious than others. The people, however, withstood all these wonders: the devils, with whom _they_ were possessed, could not be expelled by any thing which Jesus had not contrived. Expecting, therefore, to draw over some of the strangers whom the solemnities always brought in great numbers to the capital, he resolved, as the feast of the tabernacles was approaching, secretly to repair thither. But, agitated by the most troublesome misgivings, he traversed Gallilee; he explained himself on his fears in an enigmatical manner to his apostles, who could not comprehend what he said; but who, on observing their master grieved, conformed themselves to his humor. On arriving at Capernaum, the place of his usual residence, the officers charged with collecting the customs taking him for a stranger, and not even recognising Matthew, their old companion exacted tribute from them. Jesus being a Jew, was offended at their demand; but whether they did not hearken to his reasons, or that he did not wish to be known, he dispatched Peter in search of a piece of thirty-pence in the mouth of a fish; or rather desired him go and catch a fish, which being sold for that sum, served to pay the custom. The apostles having understood from the Saviour's discourses, that his kingdom was still very distant, occupied themselves with disputing on the pre-eminence and ranks they should enjoy in the empire which had been obscurely announced to them. In this they have been since faithfully imitated by their successors. In the mean time Jesus took occasion from this dispute to deliver a sermon on humility. He called for a child, placed it in the midst of them, and declared that this child was the greatest among them. This sermon, by which our clergy have profitted so well, contains fine parables, and points out excellent means whereby to attain heaven, but not to thrive on earth. As all these, however, are only repetitions of what is taught in the sermon on the mount, we refer the reader to it. Jesus wrought no miracles during his abode at Capernaum, where he had an interest not to be too much spoken of. His brethren or his parents, who were of the same mind as the priests, proceeded to that place on purpose to persuade him to leave his asylum and go into Judea, where he might exhibit his skill. They reminded him that the feast should draw him to Jerusalem, where he could not fail to find an opportunity of signalising himself. This ironical tone enabled Jesus to foresee that they were plotting against him. Here eternal truth extricated itself from these importunities by means of falsehood. The Son of God told his brethren to go to the feast, but assured them that for himself he would _not_ go. (John vii. 8.) This, however, did not hinder him from taking the road to Jerusalem, but with the greatest secresy. In his way he cured ten lepers, among whom one only, who was a Samaritan, shewed any gratitude to his physician; and from courtesy to his faith his sins were remitted. Notwithstanding this miracle and absolution, the incredulous do not admit that Jesus can be acquitted of having prevaricated. It seems very strange, that the Son of God, to whom his omnipotence furnished so many honorable means of acting openly, had recourse to subtlety and deception in order to elude the snares of his enemies. This conduct can be explained only by supposing that what seems falsehood to carnal eyes is truth in the gospel. CHAPTER XIV. JESUS SHEWS HIMSELF AT JERUSALEM.--HE IS FORCED TO LEAVE IT.--RESURRECTION OF LAZARUS.--TRIUMPHANT ENTRY OF JESUS.--HIS RETREAT TO THE GARDEN OF OLIVES.--THE LORD'S SUPPER.--HE IS ARRESTED. It is probable that our hero changed his intention of showing himself publicly at Jerusalem on learning the diversity of opinions which divided the capital on his account. He imagined that his presence and discourses would remedy the inconstancy of the people, and remove the perplexity of disputants; but he deceived himself. He who so often recommended the _cunning of serpents_, failed on this occasion. But how revoke an immutable decree? The world had been created solely on purpose that man might sin, and man had sinned in order that Jesus by his death might have the glory of making atonement for sinners. If they spoke much evil of Jesus in Jerusalem, they spoke also much good. Praise is a snare, wherein the Son of God himself was caught. Flattering himself with being able to reconcile the suffrages, he went to the temple and preached. But what must have been his surprise when on beginning to speak he heard the cries of rage, and the multitude accusing him of being possessed with a devil. In spite of the noise that prevailed among the audience, Jesus continued to harangue. Perhaps he might have succeeded in conquering the bad disposition of the assembly, if a company of soldiers had not arrived, and interrupted him precisely in the most pathetic part of his sermon. He was speaking of his heavenly Father; and this occurrence has undoubtedly made us lose a sublime treatise on the nature of the divinity. The soldiers, however, had no design to seize him; they wished only to impose silence on him; it was, therefore, easy for him to steal away. Jesus, whose temper appears to have been vindictive and restless, was piqued at the insult, and continued his invectives against the priests, doctors, and principal men among the Jews, who taking counsel on the subject, agreed to issue a decree against him and try him for contumacy; but Nicodemus, whom we mentioned before, undertook his defence, and proposed to his brethren to go and hear him before condemning him. They, however, insisted that no _good ever came out of Nazareth_, i.e. that his protegee could be no other than a vagabond. In his retreat on the mount of Olives, Jesus learned that they had postponed proceedings against him. He therefore appeared next day in the temple by day break. The doctors and senators came a little later, and brought him a female accused of adultery--a crime for which, according to the law, she ought to suffer death. The doctors, perhaps acquainted with her conduct, and informed of Jesus' having women of wicked lives in his train, wanted to ensnare him. He might have got off by merely saying, that it was not for him to judge; but he wished to argue. He wrote on the ground; and concluded, very prudently, that for one to judge it is necessary to be himself exempted from all sin. Then addressing himself to the doctors, "let him among you who is without sin, cast the first stone at her." At these words they departed, shrugging their shoulders. Jesus remained alone with the adulteress, whom the Jews would not have treated so tenderly if she had been really culpable. On this he said to her, "Since no man hath accused thee, neither will I condemn thee: Go then, and sin no more." Having happily escaped from this danger, Jesus thought himself in safety; but, induced by his natural petulence, he again hazarded a sermon in the temple: he spoke only of himself; and what follows was nearly his strongest argument: "You ask," said he, "a full proof by two witnesses. Now I bear witness of my Father, and my Father bears witness of me; you therefore ought to believe in me;" which amounts to this; _my Father proves me, and I prove my Father_. The doctors, but little surprised with this circuitous and erroneous reasoning, and with a view to come directly to the point, asked him, "Who art thou?" "I am," replied Jesus, "from the beginning, and I have many things to say to you; but I speak to the world those things only which I have heard of my Father." The audience were no doubt impatient at these ambiguous answers: Jesus, who wished to increase their embarrassment, then added that they would know him much better after they had put him to death. The messiah did not omit to display great views in this conference: he informed his hearers in dark language, that it would not perhaps be impossible to shake off the Roman yoke. But either through fear, or that they did not believe such a man in a condition to effect so great a revolution, they affected not to comprehend him. Piqued at finding the doctors and pharisees so dull and opiniative, he called them _children of the devil_; he affirmed that he was _older than Abraham_. In short, he broke out in a manner so unreasonable that the people, declaring against him, were about to stone him. Jesus, perceiving his folly when too late, concealed himself until an opportunity offered to escape. From this time his miracles became more rare, and the zeal of the people subsided. It was therefore necessary to rekindle it: Jesus accordingly performed a miracle by curing a man born blind with a little earth moistened with spittle. This man was a well known mendicant, whom they could not suspect of any artifice. Yet they would no longer tolerate him after he had received his sight; an incident which no doubt diminished the alms he was in use to receive. But, perhaps, he was made a disciple. Some legends, indeed, assert, that after the death of Jesus he came into Gaul, where he became a bishop or inspector; which at least presupposes good organs of vision. This prodigy coming to the knowledge of the Pharisees, the beggar underwent an examination; he openly confessed that one called Jesus had cured him with a clay of his composition and some bathings in Siloam. On this occasion, the bad humor of the pharisees went a little too far. They made it a crime for the physician to have composed his ointment on the Sabbath, and formed the project of excommunicating whoever should countenance him. This resolution made Jesus tremble. He knew the power of excommunication among the Jews; he found himself crossed in all his designs; and dared not venture to preach in Jerusalem, or show himself in any other place. Every thing, even his miracles, turned against him, and it was not without some difficulty that he had escaped from the capital. At a little distance he knew of an asylum in Bethany, where his friend Lazarus possessed a house. He accordingly took the resolution of retiring thither; but though it was a large house, the party that accompanied him might have incommoded their host. This determined Jesus to send seventy of his disciples on a mission to Judea, to whom it appears he now gave very able powers; for on their return we find them applauding themselves, and overjoyed at the facility with which they expelled the devils. Scarcely had Jesus arrived at Bethany, when in order to receive him in a becoming manner, they prepared a banquet. But the voluptuous Magdalane, content to devour with her eyes her dear Saviour, left Martha her sister to superintend the arrangements in the kitchen while she herself continued at his feet. Peevishness, and perhaps jealousy, got the better of Martha; she came and scolded Magdalane; but the tender messiah undertook the defence of his penitent, and asserted that she had chosen the better part. Brother Lazarus, who came in unexpectedly, terminated the squabble by ordering them to their work. This little altercation was the cause why Jesus did not tarry long at Bethany. When about leaving it, a pharisee through pure curiosity invited him to dinner. The messiah accepted his invitation; but our unpolished Jew had not the civility to give his guest water to wash with. This occasioned him a fine lecture on charity and filled with marvellous comparisons, which, however, we shall omit, as our orator so frequently conned over the same lesson, and as this dinner appears to be a repetition of one we have already mentioned. From this period till the feast of the dedication of the temple, our hero wandered in the environs of Jerusalem with his disciples, whom he incessantly entertained with the grandeur of his aerial kingdom, and what it was necessary to do in order to enter it. It was, according to Luke, on this occasion, and according to Matthew in the sermon on the mount, that he taught the apostles, who could not read, a short prayer called since that time the Lord's prayer, which (injurious as it is to the Divinity, whom it seems to accuse of leading us into temptation,) Christians still continue to repeat. Meanwhile time passed away without any advantage. The cessation of prodigies and preaching occasioned that of alms. Jesus again hazarded a sermon in a village; but although it attracted the admiration of the people, it produced no effect. Towards the end of our hero's mission we see the crowd no longer running after him. If he wished to perform a miracle, he was under the necessity of calling those he wished to cure. For eighteen years an old woman of this village had been quite bent. It was, according to the language of the country, the devil who had kept her in this inconvenient posture. Jesus called her and exclaimed; "Woman, thou art loosed from thine infirmity." The old woman made efforts to become straight; she approached the feet of the messiah with the pace of a tortoise; he laid his hands on her and immediately she walked upright like a girl of fifteen. At this time the devil spoke not a word; on which it has been remarked, that Satan always followed the opinion of the spectators of the Saviour's miracles, and marvellously coincided with them in acknowledging or rejecting him. This analogous conduct of the spectators and Satan was perhaps the result of the excommunication fulminated against all who regarded Jesus as the messiah. The reputation of John Baptist still subsisted on the banks of the Jordan. To excite the primitive zeal, or, perhaps, with an intention to induce the disciples of John, who had borne him such flattering testimony, to follow him, Jesus turned towards that quarter. But the attempt was fruitless: he succeeded no better in curing a dropsical person that chanced to be in the house of a pharisee who gave the Saviour a dinner. His cures were admired, but he spoiled all by his extravagant arguments, so offensive were they to the greatest part of his hearers. As a last resource, he endeavored to attach publicans, officers, and such like disreputable persons to his party; but these were only feeble props, and their familiarity made him lose the little esteem which others still entertained for him. The sight of punishment has often occasioned the loss of courage even to the most determined hero. Ours, agitated by a crowd of untoward events, imagined that nothing being dearer to men than life, and nothing more difficult than to come back after leaving it, the people of Jerusalem, notwithstanding the clamors of the priests, would declare in his favor if he could succeed in making them believe that he had the power of raising the dead. Lazarus the intimate friend of Jesus appeared to him the fittest person for presenting to the public the spectacle of a dead man brought to life. When every thing was properly concerted, Jesus set out for Bethany. Learning this, Martha and Magdalane went to meet him, and publicly informed him that their brother was very sick. Jesus made them no answer, but speaking loud so as to be heard, "This sickness," said he, "is not unto death, but for the glory of God." This was already telling too much. Instead of going to Bethany, Jesus remained two days in the village without doing any thing; thereafter he told his apostles that it was necessary to return into Judea. He was there at the time he spoke, but he meant, no doubt, the capital. They represented that it would be a very imprudent journey as the populace had recently wanted to stone him. We see that Jesus said this on purpose to give room to his friends to invite him not to neglect brother Lazarus in his sickness. Besides, the following words evince that he had no intention of going to Jerusalem. "Our friend Lazarus sleepeth; but I go that I may awake him out of sleep." On hearing this, the apostles thought Lazarus had recovered. Jesus declared that he was dead, and that he was highly pleased with not having been present at his decease, as it would afford means to confirm them in the faith. The two days which Jesus passed in the village, joined to the time he took in going about half a league, were immediately converted into four days from the period he pretended Lazarus was dead. At last he arrived at the abode of the defunct, whom they had deposited in a vault adjoining to his house, and not, according to the custom of those days, in a sepulchre out of the city. After some questions put to Martha on her belief, he assured her that her brother would rise again. "Yes," said she, "but it will be at the last day." Here our Thaumaturge affected to be very sensibly touched; he trembled, he wept, invoked the aid of heaven, advanced to the vault, made it be opened, called on Lazarus with a loud voice, and commanded him to come forth. The dead man, though wrapped up in his grave clothes, arose and was unloosed before witnesses at the entrance of the vault. This prodigy was conducted with very little dexterity. John, the only Evangelist who relates this striking miracle, in vain supports his relation with the presence of the Jews: he destroys his own work by not making them come till after the death of Lazarus to console his sisters. It was necessary that the Jews should have seen him die, dead, and embalmed; that they should have felt the smell of his corruption; and that they should have conversed with him after his coming out of the tomb. Unbelievers have exhausted all the darts of criticism on this miracle. To investigate it would be only repeating what they have said. The Jews found in it such strong marks of knavery, that far from being converted, they took more serious measures against Jesus, who having intimation of this, withdrew towards the desert to a city called _Ephrem_, where he abode with his disciples. In the mean time the cities and villages were ordered to refuse him an asylum, and the inhabitants to deliver him up to the magistrates. In fact this miracle occasioned a general proscription of the messiah. On presenting himself at the gates of a town in Samaria, they at first refused to let him pass; he was not permitted to stop at Jericho, though he gave sight to a blind man, whom Matthew magnifies into two. Jesus returned to Bethany, where he was received, not by Lazarus, who had, perhaps, been obliged to save himself on account of his being concerned in such an imposture; but, as Matthew affirms, by Simon the leper. Lazarus after his resurrection appeared no longer on the stage. A legend, according to Baronius, affirms that Lazarus went afterwards to preach the faith to the Provençals, and was the first bishop of Marseilles. As for Magdalane, she went to bewail her sins and the death of her lover in a desart of Province, called _la Sainte Baume_ (the Holy Balm.) Martha, as every body knows, lies interred at Tarascon. This rejection and desertion of Jesus threw the apostles into consternation. To reanimate their confidence, Jesus caused a fig-tree to die in twenty-four hours to punish it for not producing figs at a season when it was physically impossible for it to bear any; that is about the month of March. As all the actions of the messiah, even when they appear foolish to ordinary men, have an important signification in the eyes of devotees illuminated by faith, we ought to perceive in the miracle of this fig-tree one of the fundamental dogmas of the Christian religion symbolically represented. The fig-tree cursed is the mass of mankind, whom, according to our theologists, the God of mercy curses, and condemns to eternal flames, for having neither faith nor grace, which they could not possibly acquire of themselves, and which God does not seem to have been willing to give them. Thus we find that the ridiculous passage of the fig-tree in the gospel, is intended to typify one of the most profound dogmas of the Christian religion. Whilst Jesus in this manner instructed his apostles by figures and ingenious parables, his enemies were laboring hard against him at Jerusalem. It appears that the Sanhedrim was divided on his account. They perhaps wished to punish him, but not to put him to death. All were of opinion that he should be arrested without noise, and that they should afterwards consider on the punishment to be inflicted. The most fiery of the priests wished that he should be seized in the capital, and assassinated during the hurry of the festival. This shows they did not consider themselves certain that the people would not interest themselves in his behalf. Perhaps they had some reason: what a part of the populace did in his favor when he approached Jerusalem, evinced that it would have been very dangerous to act openly. In pursuance of this plan, they secretly promised a reward to whoever should deliver up Jesus; and we shall soon find one of his apostles betraying his master for a very trifling sum. Before entering Jerusalem, Jesus evidently caused his approach to be announced by his friends in that city. His adherents labored to render his entry into the capital somewhat brilliant. Affecting to display modesty in the midst of his triumph, or unable to do better, Jesus chose for his steed a young ass that had never been rode on, which his disciples, by his order, had seized with its mother. In place of a saddle, some of the disciples laid their clothes on the back of the ass. The company advanced in good order. The people, ever fond of a spectacle, ran to see this; and we may believe that if some at this time paid sincere homage to the triumpher, the greatest number laughed at him and shouted at the ridiculous farce. The chief magistrate fearing an uproar, endeavored to quiet the populace, to whom the disciples had set the example. He accordingly addressed Jesus himself, who answered that "the stones would speak, rather than his friends would be silent." This seemed to insinuate an insurrection in case they should attempt force; and the magistrate understood very well that this was not the moment to provoke Jesus. As soon as the Messiah had entered Jerusalem, he betook himself to weeping and predicting its ruin. The announcing calamities was, and will ever be, a sure method to excite the attention of the vulgar. Some persons of consequence who knew not the cause of the riotous assemblies of the people around Jesus, on enquiry were answered, it is Jesus of Nazareth--it is a prophet of Galilee. Mark assures us, that in this transaction, decisive in behalf of the Son of God, Jesus once more gave to the people the pillage of the merchandise exposed to sale in the court before the porch of the temple. This is very credible: it was indeed more necessary at present than at the former period. Profitting by the tumult, Jesus cured a great many blind and lame people. Whilst these wonders were performing on one side, they exclaimed Hosannah on the other. Some besought the author of these exclamations and tumult to stop them; but the messiah had no longer measures to observe, he perceived it was necessary to engage the popular enthusiasm, and that it would be silly to appease it. Besides, the uncertainty of success had thrown him into distress, which hindered him from seeing or understanding any thing. A child, frightened, or too much pressed in the crowd, began to cry while Jesus was speaking, "Father, save me from this hour." They took the child's voice for a voice from heaven. John, moreover, informs us, that the disciples had palmed on the people the famous miracle of Lazarus' resurrection, which, attested by eye-witnesses, must have made a great impression on the astonished vulgar. They did not entertain a doubt that the voice from heaven which they had heard, was that of an angel who bore testimony to Jesus; and the latter, profitting dexterously of the occasion, said to them, "This voice came not because of me, but for your sakes." He afterwards harangued the people, and announced himself as "the Christ;" but he spoiled his sermon by timid expressions, and not knowing how to draw from the circumstance all the advantage it seemed to promise, he left the city and retired to Bethany, where he passed the night with his disciples. In general our hero was subject to low spirits:--we constantly find in him a mixture of audacity and pusillanimity. Accustomed to operate in the country, and among rude and ignorant people, he did not know how to conduct himself in a city, or to succeed among vigilant and intelligent enemies. Thus he lost the fruit of his memorable journey, which had been so long before projected. We do not indeed find that after this he returned to Jerusalem, except to be tried. Melancholy and fear had deprived him of all presence of mind, and his disciples were under the necessity of reminding him that it was time to take the passover. They asked him where he wished them to go and prepare the entertainment: He bade them take the first house they met with, which they did. A chamber was provided for them where they assembled with their master, who, ever occupied with his sorrowful thoughts, gave them to understand that this passover would likely be the last which he should celebrate. His language was mournful; he bathed their feet in order to teach them that humility was essentially necessary when they were weakest. Having afterwards set down to table, he told them that he was afraid of being betrayed by one of themselves. His suspicions fell on Judas, whose frequent visits to the houses of the priests might be known to his master. As Judas was treasurer to the party, and charged with paying for the entertainment, Jesus wished it to be understood that they were then regaled at the expense of his life and his blood. "Take," said he to them in a figurative style, "for this is my body." Thereafter he gave them the cup, saying that it was "his blood which was to be shed for them." Judas readily comprehending the meaning of his enigma, arose from table, and immediately withdrew: but the other apostles did not understand it.--It is, however, on this emblem that some doctors have since built the famous dogma of _transubstantiation_: they enjoin rational beings to believe, that _at the word of a priest bread is changed into the real body, and wine into the real blood of Jesus_! They have taken the figurative words of our missionary literally, and have employed them in forming a _mystery_, or rather the most curious juggle that ever has been devised by priests in order to deceive mankind. After supper our guests retired with their master to the mount of Olives, where they thought themselves in safety; but our hero did not entertain the same opinion. Scarcely had the Man-God entered the garden of Olives when a mortal terror seized him; he wept like a child and anticipated the pangs of death. His apostles, more tranquil, yielded to sleep, and Jesus, who was afraid of being surprised, mildly reproached them. "Could you not," said he, "watch with me one hour?" Judas, whom we have seen depart suddenly and who had not rejoined the party, gave extreme uneasiness to Jesus and every moment redoubled his terror. It is affirmed that an angel came to strengthen him in his situation: Yet he was afterwards seized with a bloody sweat, which can only denote a very great weakness. The agitated condition of the Saviour appears very surprising to persons in whose minds faith has not removed every difficulty the gospel presents. They are much astonished to find such weakness in a God who knew from all eternity that he was destined to die for the redemption of the human race. They aver, that God his father, without exposing his son to such cruel torments, might by one word have pardoned guilty men, and conformed them to his views. They think that the conduct of God would have been more generous in appeasing his wrath at less expense on account of an apple eat four thousand years ago. But the ways of God are not as those of men. The Deity ought never to act in a _natural_ way, or be easily understood. It is the essence of religion that men should not comprehend any part of the divine conduct. This furnishes to their spiritual guides the pleasure of explaining it to them for their money. On the near approach of death the Man-God showed a weakness which many ordinary men would blush to display in a similar situation. The traitor Judas, at the head of a company of archers or soldiers, proceeded towards Jesus whose retreats he know. A kiss was the signal by which the guards were to recognise the person whom they had orders to seize. Already Jesus beheld the lanthorns advancing which lighted the march of these sbirri; and perceiving the impossibility of escaping, he made a virtue of necessity. Like a coward become desperate, he resolutely presented himself to the party: "_whom seek ye?_" said he, with a firm tone:--"Jesus," answered they. "_I am he._" Here Judas confirmed with a kiss this heroical confession. The apostles, awakened by the noise, came to the succour of their master. Peter, the most zealous among them, cut off with a stroke of his sabre the ear of Malchus, servant of the High Priest. Jesus, convinced of the folly of resistance, commanded him to put up his sword, set in order the ear of Malchus, (who escaped at the expense of being frightened,) and then surrendered himself. It is said that the party who came to apprehend Jesus, were forced at first to give way. The fact is very probable: it was dark, and the archers perceiving the apostles but very indistinctly, might believe that their enemies were more numerous than they were; but plucking up courage they fulfilled their commission. Whilst they bound the Son of God with cords, he besought the chief of the detachment not to molest his apostles, and as they wanted him only, he easily obtained his request. John believes that Jesus made this entreaty in order to fulfil a prophecy; but it appears our hero thought it was neither useful nor just to involve men in his ruin, whose assistance might still be necessary, or who, being at large, would have a better opportunity to act in his favor. CHAPTER XV. TRIAL AND CONDEMNATION OF JESUS.--HIS PUNISHMENT AND DEATH. When the enemies of Jesus saw him in their hands, they were not less embarrassed than before. From the time the Romans had subdued the Jewish nation, they had no longer the power of the sword. To punish those who had sinned against religion, it was sufficient at any former period, that the high priest pronounced sentence on the culprit. The Romans, more tolerant, rarely punished with death; and, besides, to take away life, they required decisive proofs against the accused. Annanias, father-in-law of the high priest Caiphas, was known among the Jews for a very subtle man. It was to Annanias' house, therefore, that they first conducted Jesus. We are ignorant of what passed in this first scene of the bloody tragedy. It is to be presumed, that the prisoner underwent an examination which proved no way favorable to him. From the house of Annanias they conducted Jesus to that of Caiphas. He was the man most interested by his office in the ruin of every innovator in matters of religion; yet we do not find this pontiff speaking with anger: he conducted himself according to law, and as a man who understood his profession. "Who," said he to Jesus, "are your disciples, their number and names?" Jesus made no answer. "But at least," continued Caiphas, "explain to me your doctrine. What end does it propose? You must have a system. Tell us then what it is." At last the messiah condescended to say, "I spoke openly to the world; it is not I, but those who have heard me, that ought to be interrogated." Here one of the officers of the high priest gave Jesus a blow on the ear, saying, "Answerest thou the high priest so!" The reprimand was harsh, but it must be owned, that the answer of Jesus was disrespectful to a man invested with authority, and with the right of putting questions, in order to discover the truth from the mouth of the accused. Jesus ought to have been better acquainted with his own doctrine than the peasants of Galilee or Judea, before whom he had through preference affected to preach in an unintelligible manner. It was therefore just and natural to suppose, that Jesus could give a better account of his sentiments and parables, than an ignorant multitude who had listened without being able to comprehend him. He alone could be supposed to possess the secret of forming into a system the scattered and unconnected principles of his heavenly doctrine. Caiphas, unable to draw any thing from the accused, waited till next morning, when the council would assemble in order to continue the inquest. Jesus appeared before the Sanhedrim, the most respectable tribunal in the nation. The gospel represents the priests and chiefs of the Jews occupied during the whole night that Jesus was arrested, in searching for and suborning _false witnesses_ against him. They produced two persons, on whom they very unjustly bestowed this epithet. These witnesses deposed to a fact verified by the gospel itself.--"We heard him say that he would destroy the temple, and rebuild it in three days." It is certain that Jesus had uttered these words, "Destroy this temple, and in three days I will raise it up." But the poor witnesses knew not that he then spoke in his figurative style. Their mistake was pardonable, for, according to the gospel, the apostles themselves did not discover the true sense of these words till after the resurrection of their master. This evidence was not sufficient to condemn Jesus. The Jews, however iniquitous we may suppose them to have been, did not sentence fools to die; and these words of their prisoner must have appeared to them the effect of delirium. Accordingly the high priest contented himself with asking what he had to answer? and as the accused refused to speak, he did not further insist on that point. He proceeded to questions more serious: "Are you the Christ?" said he to Jesus. How did the messiah answer this question? "If I tell it, you will not believe me, nor suffer me to depart. But hereafter the Son of man shall sit on the right hand of God." "You are then the Son of God?" continued the priest.--"You have said it," replied the accused. "But it is not sufficient that we should say it; it is you who are to answer: once more, are you the Christ? I conjure you by the living God tell us if you are his Son?"--"You have said it," answered Jesus: "the Son of man shall one day come in the clouds of heaven." Notwithstanding these perplexing answers, the judges imagined they understood the meaning of his words: they plainly perceived that he wished to give himself out for _the Son of God_. "He hath spoken blasphemy," said they; and immediately concluded that he deserved death--a judgment which was valid according to the law of the Jews, and which must also appear so to Christians whose sanguinary laws punish capitally those whom the clergy accuse of blasphemy. They have, therefore, no right to blame the conduct of the Jews, so often imitated by ecclesiastical and secular tribunals. On the other hand, if it was necessary that Jesus should die; if he wished it; if the reprobation of the Jews was resolved on, he acted very properly in keeping them in error. But if this was the intention of providence, why preach to them? Why perform miracles before a whole people whilst a small number were only to profit by it? Did Jesus wish to save them? In that case why not convince the whole Sanhedrim of his power? Why did he not burst his bonds? Why did he not by a single word change their obstinate hearts? Did he wish to destroy them? Why not then strike them dead? Why not instantly precipitate them into hell? The judges could not comprehend why the accused, who could not extricate himself from their hands, could be the Son of God. They accordingly declared him worthy of death; but not definitely, as it was requisite that the sentence should be approved of and executed by the Romans, sovereigns of the nation. During these transactions, Jesus was treated in the cruelest manner by the Jews, whom, as well as Christians, their zeal permitted, or rather enjoined, to be savage. It is during this night, and the morning of the following day, so fatal to the Saviour of the world, that we must place the three denials of Peter, the chief of the apostles. His master had prayed for him. His comrades, seized with dismay, had dispersed themselves in Jerusalem and its neighborhood. Several among them would have acted like Peter if they had found themselves in a similar situation. He had at least the merit of keeping near his master; he abjured him, it is true; but would it have been of more avail if, by acknowledging him openly, he should have entangled himself in a very awkward affair, without being able to relieve the Saviour. The Sanhedrim repaired to the palace of Pilate the Roman governor, in order to get the sentence confirmed. Jesus was conducted thither. Pilate instantly perceived that it was an affair in which fanaticism and folly had the greatest share. Filled with contempt for so ridiculous a motive, he was at first unwilling to interfere. _Judge him yourselves_, said he to the magistrates. On this the latter became false witnesses. Zeal, no doubt, made them imagine that every thing was allowable against an enemy of religion. They interested the sovereign power in their quarrel--They accused Jesus of wishing "to make himself king of the Jews," and of having maintained, that "they ought not to pay tribute to Casar." We recognize here the genius of the clergy, who, to ruin their enemies, are never very fastidious in the choice of means. They especially strive to render the latter suspected by the temporal power, in order to engage it, through motives of self-interest, to satiate their revenge. Pilate could not avoid paying attention to accusations of so serious a nature. Unable to persuade himself that the man he beheld could have conceived projects so ridiculous, he interrogated him:--"Are you the king of the Jews?" On which Jesus demanded of Pilate--"Say you this of yourself, or have others told it you?"--"Of what consequence is it to me," returned Pilate, "that you pretend to be the king of the Jews? You do not appear a man much to be dreaded by the Emperor my master--I am not of your nation; I concern myself very little with your silly quarrels. Your priests are your accusers--I have my own opinion of them--but they accuse you; they deliver you into my hands--Tell me then, what have you done?" Jesus might very easily have got off; but in his distress his judgment failed; and, far from penetrating the favorable disposition of Pilate, who wished to save him, he replied, "that his kingdom was not of this world--that he was the truth," &c. On this the Governor asked him "What is the truth?" But the Saviour made no reply, though the question well deserved a categorical answer. Pilate, a little alarmed on account of Jesus, declared, that he "found nothing in him worthy of death." But this redoubled the cries of his enemies. Having learned that the accused was a Galilean, he, to get quit of the ridiculous business, seized the opportunity to send him to Herod, to whose tetrarchate Jesus originally belonged. We have said elsewhere, that this prince had desired to see our hero, and his desire was now gratified. But on perceiving his obstinacy and constant refusal to answer the questions put to him, he conceived a sovereign contempt for him. To Pilate therefore he sent him back clothed in a white robe by way of derision. The governor, however, saw no capital crime in Jesus, and wished to save him; besides, his superstitious wife had a dream, that interested her in favor of our missionary. Pilate then said to the Jews, that he could find nothing in the man which rendered him worthy of death. But the people misled, and wishing him to be crucified, cried out _Tolle, Tolle_; away, away with him. The Governor now devised another plan to save him. "I release," said he, "every year a criminal; supposing that Jesus may be culpable, I am going to set him free." The cries were redoubled, and the Jews demanded, that a robber called Barabbas should profit of this mercy in preference to Jesus, whose punishment they persisted to urge. The Romans, desirous to calm the rage of a fanatical people, caused Jesus to be whipped; dressed him in a ridiculous manner, crowned him with thorns, and made him hold a reed instead of a sceptre. Thus decorated, Pilate showed him to the people, saying, "Behold your king! are you not yet satisfied? See how to please you I have bedecked him. Be then less cruel: do not carry your indignation further; he ought no longer to give you umbrage." The priests, whose maxim it is "never to forgive," were not moved by this spectacle; nothing short of the death of their enemy could satisfy them. They changed their ground, and, to intimidate the governor, told him that by suffering the accused to live he betrayed the interests of his master. It was then that Pilate, fearing the effects of the malice of the clergy, consigned Jesus to the Jews, that they might satiate their rage on him; declaring, however, that "he washed his hands of it," and that it was against his opinion if they put him to death. We cannot well conceive how a Roman governor, who exercised sovereign power in Judea, could yield so easily to the wishes of the Jews: but we cannot more easily conceive how God permitted this honest governor to become an accomplice in the death of his dear Son. Jesus, abandoned to the rage of devotees, again suffered the cruellest treatment. Pilate, to humble those barbarians, wished the label affixed to the upper part of the cross to bear, that he was their king; and nothing could induce him to recede from this resolution. "What is written is written," said he to those who requested him to alter an inscription dishonorable to their nation. It is also proper to observe, that this inscription is differently expressed by the four evangelists. The Jews treated Jesus as a dethroned king, and made him experience the most bloody outrages. Though he had said that he could make _legions of angels_ come to his protection, yet the Jews, notwithstanding their natural credulity, paid no credit to his assertion, and nothing could stop their religious cruelty, excited by the priests. They made him take the road to Calvary. He sunk under the weight of his cross, but they loaded Simon with it, who was more vigorous. The unfortunate Jesus must have been indeed much enfeebled by what he had suffered during both the night and the morning. At last he was placed on the cross, the usual punishment of slaves. He did not suffer long under the agonies of crucifixion: after invoking his Father, and lamenting his being so shamefully abandoned, he expired, it is said, between two thieves. It is said that Jesus when dying exclaimed, "_Eli! Eli! lamma sabbactani!_" (My God! my God! why hast thou forsaken me!) This complaint was very ridiculous in the mouth of Jesus, if, as is pretended, the part he acted was agreed on with his father from all eternity. Matthew and Mark tells us, that _both_ the thieves insulted him with abusive language; while Luke assures us, that _one_ only of the two abused the Saviour, and that the other reprimanded his comrade for his insolence, and besought Jesus "to remember him when he should come to his kingdom." But our interpreters have a thousand ways of proving that the Holy Spirit never contradicts himself, even when he speaks in the most contradictory manner. Those who have faith are satisfied with their arguments, but they do not so powerfully impress freethinkers, who have the misfortune to reason. The remorse of Judas soon revenged Jesus on this traitor. He restored to the priests the thirty pieces he had received from them, and went forthwith to _hang_ himself. This is what Matthew says, in opposition to the writer of the Acts of the Apostles, (Luke) who tells us, that Judas "purchased a field with the reward of iniquity; and falling headlong he burst asunder in the midst." Mark and John are silent respecting this memorable event. According to Matthew, the selling of Jesus for thirty pieces had been foretold by Jeremiah. The prediction, however, does not appear in the writings of this prophet, which would create a suspicion that the evangelists, little satisfied with applying to Jesus some prophecies, such as are extant in the Old Testament, have drawn from their own store, or forged them when in need. But our able interpreters are not at all embarrassed with this; and a holy blindness will always prevent these trifles from being perceived. The gospel informs us, that at the death of Jesus all Nature seemed to take part in the grand event. At the moment he expired there was a total eclipse; a frightful shaking of the earth was felt, and several holy personages came out of their tombs to take a walk on the streets of Jerusalem. The Jews alone had the misfortune to see nothing of all this; it appears, that these wonders were performed only in the fancy of the disciples of Jesus. As for the eclipse, it was, doubtless, an inconceivable prodigy which could not have taken place without a total derangement in the machine of the world. A total eclipse of the sun during full moon, the time at which the celebration of the passover was fixed by the Jews, is of all miracles the most impossible. No contemporary author has mentioned it, though this phenomenon well merited to be transmitted to posterity. The incredulous therefore maintain, that there was no other eclipse on this occasion but of the common sense of those who saw all these marvels, or of the good faith of the writers who have attested them. With respect to the shaking of the earth, they suspect that the apostles of Jesus, agitated with fear at the sight of their divine master's fate, were the only persons who felt it. In this way indeed the thing becomes very probable. If the punishment of Jesus is proved by the gospel, some circumstances may create a doubt whether he died immediately. We are told, that they did not, according to custom, break his legs. His friends had the liberty of taking away his body, and they might dress his wounds on finding that he was not dead, and in this manner bring him back to life, at least for some time. When Jesus was dead, or believed to be so after an incision had been made in his side, from which came blood and a whitish fluid, which they took for water, his body was embalmed and deposited in a new tomb. This was done on Friday evening. He had several times intimated that he would rise again the third day; that is, at the end of three days and three nights. Yet on the Sunday following, early in the morning, the tomb wherein he had been laid was found empty. The Jews, always opiniative, did not admit that he was risen again. They held it more natural to believe that he had failed in his word; or to suppose that his disciples had carried him off. This could easily have been executed by force; by bribing the guards, whom the priests and Pharisees had placed around his sepulchre; or by cunning. As Pilate felt but little interest in the matter, he appears not to have punished the guards for neglecting to take care of what he had confided to them. The idolatrous governor, little acquainted with the resources or designs of the apostles, never suspected they could persuade any person, that a man, whose death was well attested, could return to life. It is not surprising that a Pagan should doubt the resurrection of Jesus; from the first day of the church, several Christians have not believed it, perceiving the incongruity of supposing that the Son of God could die. They have therefore denied the death of their divine master. The followers of Basilides affirmed that Jesus at the time of his passion assumed the appearance of Simon the Cyrenean, and transferred to him his own, under which the said Simon was crucified in his stead, while Jesus, who beheld this without being himself seen, laughed at their mistake. The Cerinthians, or disciples of Cerinthus, who was contemporary with the apostles; and the Carpocratians likewise denied that Jesus could have been actually crucified. Some have maintained, that the traitor Judas was punished in place of his master. These sectaries regarded Jesus as a mere man, and not as a god. Thus we find Christians contemporary with the apostles believing in Jesus and yet doubting his death. It was, however, on this marvellous notion, as we shall see, that a sect was afterwards founded, powerful enough to subject by degrees the Roman empire and a considerable portion of the globe. The punishment of our hero must have produced very little sensation in the world, and his adventures must have been strangely unknown, since we do not find that any historian, with the exception of the evangelists, makes mention of them. In the year 1263, a conference was held in presence of Don Jaques king of Arragon, and the queen his wife, between the Rabbin Zechial, and the Dominician, Friar Paul, called Cyraic. This conference is very memorable. The two champions were well versed in the Hebrew and in antiquity. The _Talmud_, the _Targum_, the archives of the Sanhedrim were on the table. The contested passages were explained into Spanish. Zechiel maintained, that Jesus had been condemned under the king Alexander Jannaeus, (and not under Herod the Tetrarch,) agreeably to what is related in the _Toldos Jaschut_, and in the _Talmud_. "Your gospels," said he, "were not written till towards the beginning of your second century, and are not authentic like our _Talmud_. We could not crucify him you speak of in the time of Herod the Tetrarch, since we had not the power of life and death in our hands. We could not have crucified him, because that manner of punishment was not in use among us. Our _Talmud_ has it, that he who perished in the time of Jannaeus was condemned to be _stoned_ to death. We can no more believe your gospels than those pretended _Letters of Pilate_, which you have forged."--_Letters on Eminent Writers_, p. 123. The illustrious and profound _Freret_, perpetual Secretary to the Academy of Belles Lettres at Paris, had no hesitation in avowing, that, after the closest investigation he was clearly of opinion, the account given in the _Talmud_ respecting Jesus, was the correct one. This opinion he supported by showing, that the gospels were not written till upwards of 40 years after the period fixed for the death of Jesus; that they were composed in foreign languages, at places distant from Jerusalem, which were full of the disciples of John, called Therapeutae; of Judaites, and of Galileans, all of whom had their gospels differing from each other, which they insisted were genuine; that the four gospels now held canonical, were the last written; that there is incontestible proof of this fact arising from the circumstance, that the first fathers of the church often quote passages which are to be found only in the gospel of the Egyptians or in that of St. James; and that Justin is the first who expressly quoted the received gospels. Justin was not born till a century after the commencement of our vulgar era. CHAPTER XVI. RESURRECTION OF JESUS--HIS CONDUCT UNTIL HIS ASCENSION--EXAMINATION OF THE PROOFS OF THE RESURRECTION. The history of the life of an ordinary man terminates commonly, with his death; but it is different with a Man-God who has the power of raising himself from the dead, or whom his adherents have the faculty of making rise at will. This happened to Jesus: thanks to his apostles or evangelists, we see him still playing a considerable part even after his decease. The moment he was arrested, the disciples of Jesus, as we have seen, dispersed themselves into Jerusalem and the neighborhood, with the exception or Simon Peter, who did not lose sight of him during his examination at the house of the high priest. This apostle was anxious, for his own sake, to know the result of it. Encouraging themselves on finding that Jesus had not criminated them in his examinations, the disciples reassembled, concerted measures, and determined, as their master was dead, or reputed so, to take advantage of the notions which he had diffused during his mission. Accustomed for so long a period to lead a wandering life under his command, and subsist at the expence of the public by preaching, exorcisms, and miracles, they resolved to continue a profession more easily exercised, and incomparably more lucrative than their original occupations. They had enjoyed an opportunity of observing that it was better to catch men than fish. But how could the disciples of a man who was punished as an impostor, make themselves be listened to? It was necessary to give out that their master during his life having raised others from the dead, had, after his own death, raised himself in virtue of his omnipotence. Jesus had predicted it; it was therefore necessary to accomplish the prediction. The honor of the master and his disciples thereby acquired a new lustre; and the sect, far from seeing itself annihilated or disgraced, was enabled to acquire new partizans in this credulous nation. In consequence of this reasoning, the apostles had only to make the body of their master, dead or alive, to disappear; whereas if it had remained in the tomb, it would have borne evidence against them. They did not even wait till the three days and three nights in the pretended prophecy were expired. The dead body disappeared on the second day; and thus the second day after his decease, our hero, triumphing over hell and the grave, found himself revivified. If Jesus did not die of his punishment, his resurrection had nothing surprising in it. If he was actually dead, the cave where his body was deposited, might have secret passages, through which they could enter and return without being observed, or stopt by the enormous stone with which they had affected to block up its entrance, and near which the guards had been placed. Thus the dead body might have been carried off either by force or by stratagem; and, perhaps, it had never been deposited in the tomb at all. In whatever manner the affair was transacted, a report was circulated that Jesus was risen and his body not to be found. Nothing is of more importance to a Christian, than to ascertain satisfactorily the resurrection of Jesus. Paul tells us, that "if Jesus be not risen, our hope is vain." Indeed without this miracle of Omnipotence, intended to manifest the superiority of Jesus over other men, and the interest Deity took in his success, he must appear only as an adventurer, or weak fanatic, punished for having given umbrage to the priests of his country. It is therefore requisite to examine seriously a fact on which alone the belief of every Christian is founded. In doing this it is necessary to satisfy ourselves of the quality of the witnesses who attest the fact; whether they were acute, disinterested, intelligent persons; and if they agree in their narratives. These precautions are the more necessary, when it is intended to examine _supernatural_ facts, which, to be believed, require much stronger proofs than ordinary facts. On the unanimous testimony of some historians, we readily believe that Casar made himself master of Gaul. The circumstances of his conquest would be less established were we to find them related by himself only, or his adherents; but they would appear incredible, if we found in them prodigies or facts contrary to the order of nature. We should then have reason to believe that it was intended to impose on us; or, if we judged more favorably of the authors, we would regard them as enthusiasts and fools. Agreeably to these principles of sound criticism, let us consider who are the witnesses that attest the marvellous, and, consequently, the least probable fact which history can produce. They are apostles--But who are these apostles? they are adherents of Jesus. Were these apostles _enlightened_ men? Every thing proves that they were ignorant and rude, and that an indefatigable credulity was the most prominent trait in their character. Did they behold Jesus rising from the dead?--No:--no one beheld this great miracle. The apostles themselves did not see their master coming out of the grave; they merely found that his tomb was empty; which by no means proves that he had risen. It will, however, be said, that the apostles saw him afterwards and conversed with him, and that he showed himself to some women who knew him very well. But these apostles and these women, did they see distinctly? Did not their prepossessed imaginations make them see what did not exist? Is it absolutely certain that their master was dead before they laid him in the tomb? In the _second_ place, were these witnesses _disinterested_? The apostles and disciples of Jesus were, doubtless interested in the glory of their master. Their interests were closely connected with those of a man who enabled them to subsist without toil. Several among them expected to be recompensed for their attachment, by the favors which he promised to bestow on them in the kingdom he was about to establish. Finding these hopes destroyed by the death, real or supposed, of their chief, most of the apostles, persuaded that all was over, lost courage; but, others, less daunted, conceived that it was not necessary to give up all hope, but that they might still profit by the impressions which the preaching and wonders of Jesus had made on the people. They believed that their master might again return, or, if they supposed him dead, they could assert that he had foretold he would rise again. They therefore agreed to circulate the report of his resurrection, and to say that they had seen him after he had triumphantly come out of the tomb. This would appear very credible in the case of a personage who had proved himself capable of raising others from the dead. Knowing the imbecility of those they had to deal with, they presumed that the people were prepared long beforehand to believe the marvellous wonder which they intended to announce. They conceived that it was necessary in order to subsist, to continue preaching doctrines which would not attract an audience if it had not been taken for granted that their author was risen again. They felt that it was necessary to preach the resurrection of Jesus, or perish with hunger. They foresaw, moreover, that it was requisite to brave chastisement and even death, rather than renounce an opinion on which their daily subsistence and welfare absolutely depended. Hence unbelievers conclude, that the witnesses of the resurrection were any thing but disinterested, and were spurred on by the principle, that _he who risks nothing, gains nothing_. In the _third_ place, are the witnesses of the resurrection unanimous in their evidence? Much more, are they consistent with themselves in their narratives? We find neither the one nor the other. Though Jesus, according to some of the evangelists, had foretold in the most positive manner, that he would rise again, John makes no mention of this prediction, but expressly declares, that the disciples of Jesus knew not that he must rise again from the dead. This denotes in them a total ignorance of that great event, said, however, to have been announced by their master; and creates a suspicion that these predictions were piously invented afterwards. Yet nothing can be more positive than the manner in which Matthew speaks of the prediction: he supposes it so well known to the public, that he affirms the priests and pharisees went to Pilate and told him, "We remember this deceiver said while he was yet alive, that after three days he would rise again." We do not, however, find in any of the evangelists a passage where this resurrection is foretold in so public and decided a manner. Matthew himself relates only the answer of Jesus to those who demanded a sign; it consisted, as we have elsewhere remarked, in referring them to "Jonas, who was three days and three nights in the belly of the whale; so," said he, "shall the Son of man be three days and three nights in the heart of the earth." Now Jesus, having died on Friday, at the ninth hour, or three o'clock in the afternoon, and risen again the second day early in the morning, was not "three days and three nights in the heart of the earth." Besides, the obscure manner in which Jesus expressed himself in this pretended prediction, could not enable the priests and pharisees to conclude that he must die and rise again, or excite their alarm; unless it is pretended, that on this occasion these enemies of Jesus received the interpretation of the mysterious prediction by a particular revelation. John tells us, that when Jesus was taken down from the cross by Joseph of Arimathea, Nicodemus brought a mixture of aloes and myrrh, weighing about a hundred pounds, to embalm him, and that he afterwards took the body, wrapped it in a clean linen cloth, applied the spices according to the practice of the Jews in their funeral ceremonies, and laid it in the tomb. Thus was Jesus embalmed, carried away, and buried. On the other hand, Matthew and Luke tell us that this sepulchre and embalming were performed in presence of Mary Magdalane and Mary the mother of Jesus, who consequently must have known what Nicodemus had done; yet Mark, forgetting all this, tells us that these same women brought sweet spices (aromatics) in order to embalm his body, and came for that purpose early in the morning of the day subsequent to the Sabbath. Luke has no better memory: he informs us that these ladies came also to embalm a dead body, which, according to John, had already received a hundred pounds weight of aromatics, and was inclosed in a sepulchre, the entrance of which was blocked up by a massy stone that embarrassed the women as much at finding it as the incredulous are with these contradictions of our evangelists. The ladies, however, who felt interrupted by the stone, had no dread of the guard which Matthew placed at the entrance of the tomb. But if these women knew that Jesus was to rise again at the end of three days, why were they so careful in embalming his body?--unless indeed we suppose that Jesus made a secret to his mother and the tender Magdalane, of an event, which, it is asserted, was publicly predicted, and perfectly well known not only to his disciples, but to the priests and pharisees. According to Matthew, the precautions used were founded on the fear the priests entertained that the disciples should come and carry away the body, and afterwards say unto the people, that Jesus had risen from the dead; an error, which, in their opinion, would be more dangerous than the first. Nevertheless, we find several women and disciples continually roaming about the tomb, going and coming freely, and offering to embalm the same dead body twice. It must be acknowledged, that all this surpasses human understanding. It is not more easy to conceive the conduct of the guards placed near the tomb at the solicitation of the priests, or that of the priests themselves. According to Matthew, these guards, terrified at the resurrection of Jesus, ran to Jerusalem to tell the priests, "that the angel of the Lord had descended from heaven, and taken away the stone which blocked up the tomb; and that at the sight of him they had nearly expired through fear." On this the priests, not at all doubting the truth of the relation of the guards, enjoined them to say publicly that the disciples of Jesus had carried away his body during the night, and while they were asleep. They also gave the soldiers money to speak in this manner, and promised to pacify the governor if he intended to punish them for their negligence. The guards, it will be observed, did not say they had seen Jesus rise; they pretended merely to have seen "the angel of the Lord descending from heaven, and rolling away the stone which was at the entrance of the tomb." Thus this history announces _an apparition_ only, and not _a resurrection_. We might explain it in a manner natural enough by supposing that during the night, while the guards were asleep, the adherents of Jesus came by the light of flambeaus, with an armed force to open the tomb and intimidate the soldiers, who, in the alarm imagined they had seen their prey taken out of their hands by a supernatural power; and that they afterwards affirmed all this in order to justify themselves. The most singular circumstance is the conduct of the priests, who believed the story of the guards, and consequently gave credit to a miracle strong enough to convince them of the power of Jesus. But far from being convinced by the prodigy which they thus believed, they gave money to the soldiers to engage them to tell, not the incident as it occurred, but that the disciples of Jesus came by night to take away the body of their master. On the other hand, the guards, who must have been more dead than alive through terror at the spectacle they had witnessed, accepted money for publishing a falsehood; a conduct for which the angel of the Lord might very properly have punished them. Far, however, from dreading punishment, these soldiers for a sum of money consented to betray their consciences. But could the Jewish priests, however base we may suppose them, be silly enough to imagine that these men, after having witnessed so striking a miracle, would be very faithful in preserving the secret? It must have been an insignificant miracle indeed which could make no impression either on the soldiers who had seen it, or on the priests who believed it on the relation of these soldiers. If the priests were convinced of the reality of the miracle, was it not natural that they should recognize Jesus for the messiah, and that they should unite with him in laboring to deliver their country from the yoke of idolaters? On this occasion, indeed, the angel of the Lord seems to have bungled the affair, by so terrifying the soldiers that they fled without having time to see Jesus rising from the dead; whose resurrection, however, was the object of all this pompous preparation. Very far from allowing it to be seen by any one, this awkward angel chased away the guards who ought to have been the witnesses of the mighty wonder. It appears, in fact, that the transaction or Jesus' resurrection was seen by nobody. His disciples did not see it; the soldiers, who guarded his tomb, did not see it; and the priests and Jews did not hold this fact to be so memorable as some persons who beheld no part of it. It was only after his resurrection that Jesus showed himself. But to whom did he show himself? To disciples, interested in saying that he was risen again; to women, who to the same interest joined also weak minds and ardent imaginations, disposed to form phantoms and chimeras. These remarks will enable us to judge of all the pretended appearances of Jesus after his resurrection. Besides, the evangelists are not unanimous as to these appearances. Matthew relates, that Jesus showed himself to Mary Magdalane and the other Mary; John makes mention of Mary Magdalane singly. Matthew tells us, that Jesus showed himself to the two Marys on the road whilst returning from the sepulchre on purpose to apprize the disciples of what they had seen. John informs us, that Mary Magdalane, after visiting the sepulchre, carried the news to the disciples, and thereafter returned to this same sepulchre, where she beheld Jesus in the company of angels. Matthew affirms, that the two Marys embraced the feet of Jesus. John says, Jesus forbade Mary Magdalane to touch him. Matthew informs us, that Jesus bade the two Marys tell his disciples _that he was going into Galilee_. John says, Jesus ordered Mary to acquaint his disciples, _that he was going to his Father_; that is, to heaven. But it is more singular still, that, according to Mark, the disciples themselves were not inclined to credit the apparition of Jesus to Magdalane. Agreeably to Luke, they treated all that she told them of angels, as reveries. According to John, Magdalane herself did not at first believe that she had seen her adorable lover, whom she took for the gardener. There is no greater certainty in the apparition of Jesus to Peter and John. These two apostles went to the sepulchre, but they did not find their dear master. According to John, he himself saw neither Jesus nor his angels. From Luke it appears, that these apostles arrived _after_ the angels were gone; and from John, _before_ the angels had arrived. The witnesses are, indeed, very little unanimous as to these angels, who seem to have been seen only by the good ladies, whom they charged to announce to the disciples the resurrection of Jesus. Matthew makes mention of _one angel_ only, whom Mark calls _a young man_. John affirms that there were _two_. It is said that Jesus showed himself again to two disciples of Emaus, called _Simon_ and _Cleophas_; but they did not recognize him, though they had lived familiarly with him. They proceeded a long while in his company without suspecting who he was--a circumstance which, undoubtedly, evinced a very strange failure of memory. It is true, Luke tells us that their _eyes were as if shut_. Is it not very singular that Jesus should show himself in order not to be known again? They, however, recognized him afterwards; but immediately dreading, as it would seem, to be seen too nearly, the phantom disappeared. The two disciples went immediately and announced the news to their brethren assembled at Jerusalem, where Jesus arrived fully as soon as they. Matthew, Mark, and Luke, agree in telling us, that when the disciples were informed of the resurrection of Jesus, they saw him for the first and last time. But the author of the Acts of the Apostles, John and Paul contradict this assertion, for they speak of several other appearances which afterwards occurred. Matthew and Mark inform us, that the disciples received orders to go and join Jesus _in Galilee_; but Luke and the author of the Acts (i.e. the same Luke) says, that the disciples were ordered _not to go out of Jerusalem_. As to this last apparition, Matthew places it on a _mountain in Galilee_, where Jesus had fixed the rendezvous for the evening of the day of his resurrection; whilst Luke informs us that it was at Jerusalem, and tells us that immediately thereafter Jesus ascended into heaven, and disappeared forever. Yet the author of the Acts of the Apostles is not of this opinion: he maintains, _against himself_, that Jesus tarried still forty days with his disciples in order to instruct them. There still remain to be considered two appearances of Jesus to his apostles, the one at which Thomas was not present, and refused to believe those who assured him of their having seen their master, and the other when Thomas recognized his master, who shewed him his wounds. To render one of these apparitions more marvellous, they assure us that Jesus was seen in the midst of his disciples whilst the doors were shut. But this will not appear surprizing to those who know that Jesus after his resurrection, had an immaterial or incorporeal body, which could make itself a passage through the smallest orifices. His disciples took him for a _spirit_: yet this _spirit_ had wounds, was palpable, and took food. But, perhaps, all this was only chimerical, and those apparitions mere illusions. Indeed, how could the apostles be assured of the reality of what they saw? A being who has the power of changing the course of nature, can destroy all the rules by which we judge of certainty: how then could they ever be certain of having seen Jesus after his resurrection? John speaks of several appearances of Jesus to his disciples, of which no mention is made by the other evangelists: hence we see that his testimony destroys theirs, or that theirs destroy his. As to the apparitions of Jesus which Paul mentions, he was not a witness of them, and knew them only by hearsay; we find him accordingly speaking of them in a manner not very exact. He says that Jesus showed himself "to the twelve," while it is evident that, by the death of Judas, the apostolic college was reduced to eleven. We are surprized to see these inaccuracies in an inspired author; they may render suspicious what he likewise says of the apparition of Jesus to five hundred of the brethren at once. As to himself we know, that he never saw his master but in a _vision_; and considering the testimonies on which the resurrection of Jesus is founded, perhaps we may say as much of the other apostles and disciples. They were Jews, enthusiasts, and prophets; and consequently subject to dreaming even while awake. The incredulous consider this to be the most favorable opinion they can form of witnesses who attest the resurrection of the Saviour, on which however the Christian religion is solely established. It appears, indeed, most certain from the nature of the testimonies we have examined, that providence has in a singular manner neglected to give to an event so memorable and of such great importance, the authenticity it seemed to require. Laying aside faith, which never experiences any difficulty about proofs, no man can believe facts, even the most natural, from vouchers so faulty, proofs so weak, relations so contradictory, and testimonies so suspicious as those which the evangelists furnish us on the most incredible and marvellous occurrence that was ever related. Independent of the visible interest these historians had in establishing the belief of the resurrection of their master, and which ought to put us on our guard against them, they seem to have written merely to contradict one another, and reciprocally weaken their evidence. To adopt relations in which we have only a tissue of contradictions, improbable facts, and absurdities, calculated to destroy all confidence in history, requires indeed grace from above. Yet Christians do not for a moment doubt the resurrection; and their belief in this respect is founded on a _rock_; that is on prejudices they have never examined, and to which from early infancy their spiritual guides have prudently attached the greatest importance. They teach them to immolate reason, judgment, and good sense, on the altar of faith. After this sacrifice, it is no longer difficult to make them acknowledge, without enquiry, the most palpable absurdities for truths, on which it is not permitted even to be sceptical. It is in vain that people of sense demonstrate the falsity of these pretended truths; it is in vain that an intelligent critic stands up against interested testimonies, visibly suggested by enthusiasm and imposture; it is in vain, that humanity exclaims against wars, massacres, and horrors without number, which absurd disputes on absurd dogmas have occasioned. They silence the credulous by saying, that "it is written, I will destroy the wisdom of the wise, and will bring to nought the understanding of the prudent.--Where is the wise? Where are the scribes? (the doctors of the law). Hath not God made foolish the wisdom of this world by causing the foolishness of the gospel to be preached?" It is by such declamations against reason and wisdom that fanatics and impostors have almost banished good sense from the earth, and formed slaves who make a merit of rejecting reason, of extinguishing a sacred torch which would conduct them with certainty, on purpose to lead them astray in the darkness which these interested guides know how to infuse into minds. The dogma of the resurrection of Jesus is only attested by men whose subsistence depended on that absurd romance; and as roguery continually belies itself, these witnesses could not agree among themselves in their evidence. They tell us, that Jesus had publicly predicted his own resurrection. He ought therefore to have risen publicly; he ought to have shewn himself, not in secret to his disciples, but openly to priests, pharisees, doctors, and men of understanding, especially after having intimated, that it was the _only sign which would be given them_. Was it not acknowledging the falsehood of his mission, to refuse the sign by which he had solemnly promised to prove the truth of that mission? Was it reasonable to require the Jews to believe, on the word of his disciples, a fact which he could have demonstrated before their own eyes? How is it possible for rational persons of the present age to believe, after the lapse of eighteen hundred years, on the discordant testimonies of four interested evangelists, fanatics, or fabulists, a story which they could not make be believed in their own time; except by a small number of imbecile people, incapable of reasoning, fond of the marvellous, and of too limited understandings to escape the snares laid for their simplicity. A Roman governor, a tetrarch, a Jewish high priest, converted by the apparition of Jesus, would have made a greater impression on a man of sense than a hundred secret apparitions to his chosen disciples. The conversion of the Sanhedrim at Jerusalem to the faith, would have been of greater weight than all the obscure rabble which the apostles prevailed on to believe their improbable marvels, and persuaded that they had seen Jesus alive after his death. If the apparitions of Jesus to his apostles were not obviously fables invented by roguery, or adopted through enthusiasm and ignorance, the motive of these clandestine visits cannot be divined. Become incapable of suffering, and re-established in his divine omnipotence, was he still afraid of the Jews? Could he dread being put to death a second time? By again showing himself, had he not better reason to calculate on converting them than he derived from all his sermons and miracles? But it is said that the Jews by their opposition deserved to be rejected; that the views of providence were changed; and that God no longer wished his chosen people should be converted. These answers are so many insults to the Divinity. How is it possible for men to withstand God? Is it not to deny the Divine Omnipotence to pretend that man can oppose its will? Man, it is asserted, is free; but must not a God who knew every thing, have foreseen that the Jews would abuse their liberty by resisting his will? In that case why send them his Son? Why make him suffer to no purpose an infamous and cruel death? Why not send him at once to creatures disposed to hear him, and render him homage? To pretend that the views of providence were changed, is it not to attack the divine immutability? Unless indeed it be said, that Deity had from all eternity resolved on this change; which, however, will not shelter that immutability. Thus, in whatever point of view we contemplate the matter, it will remain a decided fact, that the resurrection of Jesus, far from being founded on solid proofs, unexceptionable testimony, and respectable authority, is obviously established on falsehood and knavery, which pervade every page of the discordant relations of those who have pretended to vouch it. After having made their hero revive and show himself, we know not how often, to his trusty disciples, it was necessary in the end to make him disappear altogether--to send him back to heaven, in order to conclude the romance. But our story-tellers are not more in union on his disappearance than on other things. They agree neither as to the time nor the place of Jesus' ascension. Mark and Luke inform us, that Jesus after having shown himself to the eleven apostles while they were at table, and spoken to them, ascended into heaven. Luke adds, that he conducted them as far as Bethany; lifted up his hands and blessed them, and was afterwards carried up to heaven. Mark contradicts Luke, and makes Jesus ascend to heaven from Galilee: and as if he had seen what passed on high, places him on the right hand of God, who on this occasion yielded to him the place of honor. Matthew and John do not speak of this ascension. If we leave it to them, we must say, that Jesus is still on earth according to the first of these evangelists, his last words to his disciples gave them to understand, that he would "remain with them until the end of the world." To fix our ideas on this subject, Luke tells us, as we have seen, that Jesus ascended into heaven the very evening of the day of the resurrection. But he afterwards informs us, that Jesus tarried _forty days after his resurrection_ with his disciples. Faith only can extricate us from this embarrassment. John advances nothing in the matter; but leaves us in uncertainty as to the time which Jesus passed on earth after his resurrection. Some unbelievers on observing the romantic style of the gospel of this apostle, have concluded from the manner in which he finishes his history, that he meant to give free course to the fables which might afterwards be published about Jesus. He terminates his narrative with these words; "Jesus did also many other things, and if they should be written every one, I suppose, that even the world itself could not contain the books that should be written:" and with this hyperbole, the well-beloved apostle finishes the Platonic romance which he made about his master. CHAPTER XVII. GENERAL REFLECTIONS ON THE LIFE OF JESUS.--PREACHING OF THE APOSTLES.--CONVERSION OF ST. PAUL. ESTABLISHMENT OF CHRISTIANITY.--PERSECUTIONS IT SUFFERS.--CAUSES OF ITS PROGRESS. The mere reading of the life of Jesus, as we have represented it according to documents which Christians consider inspired, must be sufficient to undeceive every thinking being. But it is the property of superstition to prevent thinking: it benumbs the soul, confounds the reason, perverts the judgment, renders doubtful the most obvious truths, and makes a merit with its slaves of despising inquiry, and of relying on the word of those who govern them. It is not unseasonable, therefore, to offer some reflections which may be useful to those who have not courage to draw out of the preceding inquiry, the consequences which naturally result from it; and thus aid them in forming rational ideas of the Jesus they adore, of his disciples whom they revere, and of books which they are accustomed to regard as sacred. Our examination of the birth of Jesus ought to render it very suspicious. We have found the Holy Spirit mistaken on that important article of Jesus' life; for he inspired two evangelists with two very different genealogies. Notwithstanding so striking a blunder, and the consanguinity of Mary and Elizabeth wife of the priest Zacharias, we shall not cavil on these points. We shall grant that Mary might really be of the race of David: many examples demonstrate that the branches of races more illustrious have fallen into misery. Departing also from the supposition, that Mary, the _immaculate_ wife of Joseph, may have willingly yielded to the angel; or, simple and devout, may have been deceived by the angel, there is every reason to believe that she afterwards taught her son his descent from David, and perhaps, some marvellous circumstances which, by justifying the mother, might kindle the enthusiasm of the child. Thus Jesus, at a very early age, might be really persuaded of his royal extraction, and of the wonders which had accompanied his birth. These ideas might afterwards inflame his ambition, and lead him to think that he was destined to play a grand part in his native country. Prepossessed with these notions, and intoxicating himself more and more by the perusal of obscure prophecies and traditions, it is very possible, that our adventurer might believe himself actually called by the Divinity, and pointed out by the prophets to be the reformer, the chief, and the messiah of Israel. He was indeed a visionary, and found people silly enough to be caught by his reveries. Another cause might likewise contribute to heat the brain of our missionary. Some learned men have conjectured with much appearance of truth, that Jesus acquired his morality among a kind of monks or Jewish Coenobites (friars) called Therapeutes or Essenians. We certainly find a striking conformity between what Philo tells us of these pious enthusiasts, and the sublime precepts of Jesus. The Therapeutes abandoned father and mother, wife, children, and property, in order to devote themselves to contemplation. They explained the scripture in a manner purely allegorical; abstained from oaths; lived in common; suffered with resolution the misfortunes of life, and died with joy. It is certain, that, in the time of the historian Josephus, three sects were reckoned in Judea, the pharisees, sadducees, and the Essenians, or Essenes. From the time of that writer, there is no longer any mention made of the latter; hence some have concluded that these Essenians, or Therapeutes, were afterwards confounded or incorporated with the first Christians, who, according to every evidence, led a manner of life perfectly similar to theirs. From all which it may be concluded, either that Jesus had been a Therapeute before his preaching, or that he had borrowed their doctrines. Whatever may be in this, in the midst of an ignorant and superstitious nation, perpetually fed with oracles and pompous promises; miserable at that time and discontented with the Roman yoke; continually cajoled with the expectation of a deliverer, who was to restore them with honor, our enthusiast without difficulty found an audience, and, by degrees, adherents. Men are naturally disposed to listen to, and believe those who make them hope for an end to their miseries. Misfortunes render them timorous and credulous, and lead them to superstition. A fanatic easily makes conquests among a wretched people. It is not then wonderful that Jesus should soon acquire partizans, especially among the populace who in every country are easily seduced. Our hero knew the weakness of his fellow-citizens. They wanted prodigies, and he, in their eyes, performed them. A stupid people, totally strangers to the natural sciences, to medicine, or to the resources of artifice, easily mistook very simple operations for miracles, and attributed effects to the finger of God which might be owing to the knowledge Jesus had acquired during the long interval that preceded his mission. Nothing is more common than the combination of enthusiasm and imposture; the most sincere devotees, when they intend to advance what they believe to be the word of God, often countenance frauds which they style _pious_. There are but few zealots who do not even think crimes allowable when the interests of religion are concerned. In religion, as at play, _one begins with being dupe, and ends with being knave_. Thus on considering things attentively, and comparing the different accounts of the life of Jesus, we must be persuaded that he was a fanatic, who really thought himself inspired, favored by Heaven, sent to his nation; in short, that he was the messiah, who, to support his divine mission, felt no difficulty to employ such deceptions as were best calculated for a people to whom miracles were absolutely necessary; and whom, without miracles, the most eloquent harangues, the wisest precepts, the most intelligent counsels, and the truest principles could never have convinced. A medley of enthusiasm and juggling constitute the character of Jesus, and it is that of all spiritual adventurers who assume the name of Reformers, or become the chiefs of a sect. We always find Jesus, during his whole mission, preaching the kingdom of his Father, and supporting his preaching with wonders. At first he spoke in a very reserved manner of his quality of messiah, son of God, and son of David. There was prudence in not giving himself out for such. But he suffered the secret to be revealed by the mouth of the devil, to impose silence on whom he commonly took great care; not, however, until after the devil had spoken in a manner sufficiently intelligible to make an impression on the spectators. So that with the assistance of his possessed, his proselytes, or his convulsionaries, he procured testimonies, which from his own mouth would have been very suspicious, and might have rendered him odious. Our operator also took care to choose his ground for performing miracles; he constantly refused to operate before those whom he supposed inclined to criticise his wonders. If he sometimes performed them in the synagogues, and in presence of the doctors, it was in the certainty that the less fastidious populace, who believed in his miracles, would take his part, and defend him against the evil designs of the more acute spectators. The apostles of Jesus appear to have been men of their master's temper--credulous or misled enthusiasts, dexterous cheats, or often both together. Jesus, who had skill in men, admitted into his intimate confidence those only in whom he remarked the most submissive credulity or the greatest address. On important occasions, such as the miracle of multiplying the loaves, the transfiguration, &c. we find, as already noticed, that he used always the ministry of Peter, James, and John. It is easy to conceive that his disciples were attached to him from interest or credulity. The most crafty perceived that their fortune could only be ameliorated under the conduct of a man who knew how to impose on the vulgar, and to make his followers live at the expence of charitable devotees. Fishermen, formerly obliged to subsist by painful and often unsuccessful labour, conceived that it was more advantageous to attach themselves to one who without trouble made them live comfortably. The most credulous expected to make a brilliant fortune, and to fill posts of eminence in the new kingdom their chief intended to establish. It was evidently from _earthly_ or interested motives, and not heavenly, that the apostles attached themselves to Jesus. At the last supper there was a strife amongst them _who should be accounted the greatest_. "The meanest," as Bishop Parker expressed it, "hoped at least to have been made lord mayor of Capernaum." And even at his ascension the only question his disciples asked, was, _Lord, wilt thou at this time restore again the kingdom of Israel_? The hopes and comforts of both vanished on the death of Jesus. The pusillanimous lost courage, but the most able and subtle did not think it necessary to abandon the party. They therefore contrived, as we have seen, the tale of the resurrection, by the aid of which the reputation of their master and their own fortune were secured. It also appears, that the apostles never sincerely believed their master was a _God_. The Acts incontestibly demonstrate the contrary. The same Simon Peter, who had recognized Jesus for the Son of the living God, declared in his first sermon, that he was man. "Ye know," says he, "that Jesus of Nazareth was a <sc>MAN</sc> whom God hath rendered famous among you--Yet ye have crucified him--but God hath raised him up again," &c. This passage proves clearly that the chief of the apostles dared not yet hazard, or was wholly ignorant of the doctrine of the divinity of Jesus, which was afterwards contrived by the self-interest of the clergy and adopted by the foolishness of Christians, whose credulity was never startled by the greatest absurdities. Self-interest and folly have perpetuated this doctrine until our time. By dint of repeating the same tales for so long a period, they have succeeded in making people believe the most ridiculous fables. The religion of the children is always regulated by the fancy of their fathers. It appears however, that the apostles of Jesus, deprived of the counsels of their master, could not have succeeded if they had not received powerful aid after his death, and selected associates, men more active than themselves, and better calculated for the business. They deliberated together on their common interests; it was then the Holy Spirit descended on them; that is, they considered on the means of earning a subsistence, gaining proselytes, and increasing the number of their adherents, in order to secure themselves against the enterprizes of the priests and grandees of the nation, whom the new sect might have very much displeased. Not satisfied with having put Jesus to death, they had the impudence to persecute his disciples. They engaged Herod to destroy James the brother of Jesus; finally they caused Stephen to be stoned. These priests and doctors did not perceive that persecution is the surest method of spreading fanaticism, and that it always gives importance to the party persecuted. Accordingly this persecuting spirit, inherent in the clergy, created new partisans to the persecuted sect. Hard treatment, and imprisonment always render sectaries more obstinate, and interesting objects to those who witness their sufferings. Tortures excite our pity in behalf of the person who endures them. Every fanatic that is punished is certain of finding credulous friends to aid him, because they persuade themselves it is for truth he is persecuted. The proceedings instigated by the priests, convinced the new sectaries that it was of the utmost importance to unite their interests. They felt it necessary to avoid quarrels, and every thing which could create division; they in consequence lived in concord and peace. The apostles, now become heads of the sect, did not neglect their own interests. One of the first faculties with which the Holy Spirit inspired them, was to profit by devout souls, and engage them to place all their property in common. The apostles were the depositaries of these goods, and had under their orders ministers or servants, known by the name of deacons, charged with the distribution of alms. These great saints, it is to be presumed, did not forget themselves in these distributions. It appears also, that the law for this communion of goods, was observed with rigor, as we find, in the Acts of the Apostles, Ananias and Saphira struck dead, on the prayer of Peter, for having had the temerity to retain a portion of their own property: a conduct which would appear as unjust, as barbarous in any other person but an apostle of Jesus. It must however be acknowledged, that the law, which obliged the rich to place their property in common, was very important, not only to the apostles, but for increasing the sect. The poor undoubtedly must have been eager to join a party where the rich engaged to _lay the cloth_. Hence it is easy to perceive, how this institution might augment the number of the faithful without a miracle. Of all the adherents the new-born sect acquired, there was none superior to Saul, afterwards known by the name of Paul. The actions and writings ascribed to this Apostle exhibit him as an ambitious, active, intrepid, and opiniative man, full of enthusiasm, and capable of inspiring others with it. Engaged at first in the profession of a tent-maker, he afterwards attached himself to Gamaliel, a doctor of the law and rendered services to the priests in their persecutions against Christians. Perceiving the utility which a man of Saul's character might be of to the party, the apostles profited by some disgust he had taken to draw him over to their sect. He consented readily conceiving that by his superior talents he might easily succeed in making himself the head of a party, to which he also knew the means of rendering himself necessary. He pretended, therefore, that his conversion was the effect of a miracle, and that God himself had called him. He was baptised at Damascus, joined the apostles at Jerusalem, was admitted a member of their college, and soon gave them proofs of his talents. He commenced preaching Jesus and his resurrection, and labored in gaining souls. His vehement zeal hurried him, without fear or hesitation, into quarrels with the priests, always indignant at the conduct of the apostles; but his persecutions rendered him dearer to his party, of which he became from that time the prime mover. Often maltreated by the Jews, Paul conjectured that it would be beneficial not to confine himself to them, but that conquests might be made among the heathen. He no doubt knew that mankind resemble each other in all superstitions; that they are every where curious about the marvellous; susceptible of fanaticism, lovers of novelties, and easily deceived. He therefore, sometimes preached to Jews, and sometimes to Gentiles, among whom he succeeded in enlisting a considerable number of recruits. Jesus, born in the bosom of Judaism, and knowing the attachment of his fellow-citizens to the law of Moses, had always openly declared, that he was come to "accomplish, and not to destroy it." His first apostles were Jews, and showed much attachment to the rites of their religion. They were displeased that Paul their brother would not subject his Gentile proselytes to Judaical usuages. Filled with views more vast than those entertained by the other apostles, he did not wish to disgust his new converts with inconvenient ceremonies, such as circumcision and abstinence from certain meats. The better to attain his ends, he neglected these usuages, which he considered as trifles, while his brethren regarded them as most essential. The first proselytes or the apostles as we have said, were called _Nazarenes_ or Ebionites, who believed in Jesus without forsaking the law of Moses. They of course regarded Paul as an heretic or apostate. This fact, attested by Origen, Eusebius, and Epiphanius, is important in giving us a distinct idea of primitive Christianity, which we see divided into two sects almost as soon as Paul had embraced it. This new apostle very soon indeed separated from his brethren to preach a doctrine different from theirs, and openly undermined the Judaism which Peter, James, and the other heads of the church persisted in respecting. But as Paul was successful among the Gentiles, his party prevailed: Judaism was entirely proscribed, and Christianity became quite a new religion, of which Judaism had been only the figure. Thus Paul wholly changed the religious system of Jesus, who had merely proposed to reform Judaism. The principal apostles followed the conduct of their master, and showed themselves much attached to the law and usages of their fathers. Paul notwithstanding their protestations, took a different course; he displayed a contempt or indifference for the legal ordinances, to which through policy, however, he sometimes subjected himself. Thus we find he circumcised Timothy, and performed Jewish ceremonies in the temple of Jerusalem. Not content with decrying the law of Moses, Paul, by his own confession, preached a gospel of his own. He says positively, in his epistle to the Galatians, "That the gospel which I preach is not after men," and that he had received it by a particular revelation of Jesus. He speaks likewise of his quarrels with the other heads of the sect; but his disciple Luke passes over these very slightly in the Acts, which are much more the _Acts of Paul_ than the Acts of the Apostles. It appears evident, that he embroiled himself with his brethren, the partisans of the circumcision, and the founders of the Nazarenes or Ebionites, who had a gospel different from that of Paul, as they combined the law of Jesus with that of Moses. Irenaeus, Justin, Epiphanius, Eusebius, Theodoret, and Augustine, agree in telling us, that these Ebionites, or converted Jews, regarded Jesus as a "mere man, son of Joseph and Mary, to whom they gave the name of _Son of God_ only on account of his virtues." From this it is evident, that it was Paul who _deified_ Jesus and abolished Judaism. The Paulites, become the strongest, prevailed over the Ebionites, or disciples of the apostles, and regarded them as heretics. Hence we see that it is the religion of Paul, and not of Jesus, which at present subsists. This altercation of Paul and the apostles of Jesus produced a real schism. Paul left the preaching of the Judaical gospel or circumcision to his brethren whilst he preached his own in Asia Minor and in Greece, sometimes to the Hellenistic Jews, whom he found established there, and sometimes to the idolatrous Greeks, whose language, though unknown to the other apostles, Paul was acquainted with. The success of his mission far surpassed that of his brethren; and if we refer to the Acts of the Apostles, we shall perceive in this new preacher an activity, a warmth, a vehemence, and an enthusiasm well adapted to communicate itself. The missionaries he formed, spread his doctrine to a great distance. The gospel of the apostle of the gentiles prevailed over the gospel of the Judaizing apostles; and in a short time there were a great number of Christians in all the provinces of the Roman empire. To a miserable people, crushed by tyrants and oppressors of every kind, the principles of the new sect had powerful attractions. Its maxims, which tended to introduce equality and a community of goods, were calculated to entice the unfortunate. Its promises flattered miserable fanatics, to whom was announced the end of a perverse world, the approaching arrival of Jesus, and a kingdom wherein abundance and happiness would reign. To be admitted there, they merely required of the proselytes "to believe in Jesus and be baptized." As for the austere maxims of the sect, they were not of a nature to disgust miserables, accustomed to suffering, and the want of the conveniences of life. Its dogmas, few in the beginning, were readily adopted by ignorant men, fond of wonders, whom their own mythology disposed to receive the fables of Christians. Besides, their own priests wrought miracles, which rendered those said to have been performed by Jesus no way improbable in their estimation. Different missionaries, in emulation of one another composed romances or histories of Jesus in which they related a number of prodigies calculated to make their hero be revered, and to interest the veneration of the faithful. In this manner the different collections, known by the name of Gospels, were framed, wherein, along with very simple facts which might have really occurred, we find numerous statements that appear credible only to enthusiasts and fools. These histories, composed from traditions by different hands, and by authors of very different characters, are not in harmony. Hence the want of conformity in the relations of our evangelists, which has been frequently noticed in the course of this work. There were, as we have before remarked, a vast number of gospels in the first ages of the church; and out of these the council of Nice chose only four, to which they gave the divine sanction. We shall not here examine whether these gospels really belong to the authors to whom they are ascribed. The opinion which attributes them to to their putative writers, might have been founded at first on some tradition, true or false, which existed in the time of the council of Nice, or which the fathers of that council had an interest in sanctioning. It is difficult to persuade ourselves without faith, that the gospel of John, filled with Platonic notions could be composed by the son of Zebedee; by a poor fisherman, who, perhaps, incapable of writing, and even reading, could not be acquainted with the philosophy of Plato. From the commencement of christianity there have been many who have denied the authenticity of the gospels. _Marcias_ accused them of being filled with falsehoods. The Alloges and Theodocians rejected the gospel of John, which they regarded as a tissue of lies. Augustin says, that he found in the Platonists the whole beginning of the gospel of John. Origen below informs us, that Celsus reproached Jesus with having taken from Plato his finest maxims, and among others the one which says, that "it is more easy for a camel to go through the eye of a needle, than for a rich man to be saved." Whatever opinion may be formed as to this, we find the mystical and marvellous philosophy of Plato introduced very early into Christianity, which agreed in several respects with the tenets held by the followers of that eminent philosopher; while his perplexed philosophy must also have easily amalgamated with the principles of the new sect. This was the source of _Spirituality_, _Trinity_, and the _Logos_, or _Word_, besides a multitude of magical and theurgical ceremonies, which in the hands of the priests of Christianity have become _mysteries_ or _sacraments_. On reading Porphyry, Jamblichus, and particularly Plotinus, we are surprised to hear them speaking so frequently in the same style as our theologists. These marks of resemblance drew several Platonists over to the faith, who figured among the doctors of the church. Of this number were Clement of Alexandria, Irenaeus, Justin Martyr, Origen, &c. Platonism may indeed be regarded as the source of the principal dogmas and mysteries of the Christian religion. Those who doubt the truth of this assertion have only to read the works of the disciples of Plato, who were all superstitious persons and Theurgists, whose ideas were analogous to those of Christians. We find, indeed, these writings filled with receipts to make the gods and good genii descend, and to drive away the bad. Tertullian reproaches the heretics of his time with having wandered astray in order to introduce Platonism, Stoicism, and Dialects into Christianity. It was evidently the mixture of the unintelligible doctrine of Plato, with the Dialectics of Aristotle, which rendered theology so senseless, disputable, and fraught with subtleties. The cardinal Pallavicini acknowledges, that "without Aristotle the Christians would have wanted a great number of articles of faith." The austere and fanatical lives of Christians must also have favorably disposed a great number of Stoics, who were accustomed to make a merit of despising objects desirable to other men, depriving themselves of the comforts of life, and braving affliction and death. We accordingly find among the early Christians a great number of enthusiasts tinctured with these maxims. This fanatical way of thinking was necessary to console the first Christians in the midst of persecutions which they suffered at first from the Jews, and thereafter from the emperors and grandees, incited by the heathen priests. The latter, according to the custom of the priesthood in all countries, made war on a sect which attacked their Gods, and menaced their temples with a general desertion. The universe was weary of the impostures and exactions of these priests, their costly sacrifices and lying oracles. Their knaveries had been frequently unveiled, and the new religion tendered to mankind a worship less expensive and, which, without being addressed so much to the eyes as the worship of idols, was better adapted than its rival to seize the imagination, and to excite enthusiasm. Christianity was moreover flattering and consolatory to the wretched, while it placed all men on the same level, and thus humbled the rich, it was announced as destined for the poor through preference. Among the Romans, slaves were in some measure excluded from religion; and it might have been said that the gods did not concern themselves with the homage of these degraded beings. The poor, besides, had not wherewith to satisfy the rapacity of Pagan priests, who, like ours, did nothing without money. Thus slaves and miserable persons must have been strongly attached to a system, which taught that all men are equal in the eyes of the Divinity, and that the wretched have better right to the favors of a suffering and contemned God than those who are temporally happy. The priests of Paganism became uneasy at the rapid progress of the sect. The government was alarmed at the clandestine assemblies which the Christians held. They were believed to be the enemies of the emperors, because they refused to offer sacrifices to the gods of the country for their prosperity. Even the people, ever zealous, believed them enemies of their gods because they would not join in their worship. They treated the Christians as Atheists and impious persons, because they did not conceive what could be the objects of their adoration; and because they took offence at the mysteries, which they saw them celebrating in the greatest secrecy. The Christians, thus loaded with the public hatred, very soon became its victims; they were persecuted; and persecution, as it always happens, rendered them more opiniative. Enthusiasm inflamed their souls; they considered it a glory to resist the efforts of tyrants; they even went so far as to brave their punishments, and concluded with believing that the greatest happiness was to perish under their severities. In this they flattered themselves with resembling the Son of God, and were persuaded, that by dying for his cause they were certain of reigning with him in heaven. In consequence of these fanatical ideas, so flattering to vanity, martyrdom became an object of ambition to Christians. Independent of the heavenly rewards, which they believed assured to those who suffered with constancy, and perished for religion, they saw them esteemed, revered, and carefully attended to during their lives, while honors almost divine were decreed them after death. On the contrary, those of the Christian community who had the weakness to shrink from tortures, and renounce their religion, were scoffed at, despised, and regarded as infamous. So many circumstances combined contributed to warm the imaginations of the faithful, already sufficiently agitated by notions of the approaching end of the world, the coming of Jesus, and his happy reign. They submitted cheerfully to punishment, and gloried in their chains: they courted martyrdom as a favor, and often, through a blind zeal, provoked the rage of their persecutors. The magistrates, by their proscriptions and tortures, caused the enthusiasm of the Christians to kindle more and more. Their courage was besides supported by the heads of their sect, who constantly displayed the heavens opening to the heroes who consented to suffer and perish for their cause, which they took care to make the poor fanatics regard as the cause of God himself. A martyr, at all times, is merely the victim of the enthusiastic or knavish priest who has been able to seduce him. Men are always disgusted with those who use violence; they conclude that they are wrong, and that those against whom they commit violence have reason on their side. Persecution will always make partisans to the cause persecuted; and those to which we allude, tended the more to confirm Christians in their religion. The spectators of their sufferings were interested for them. They were curious to know the principles of a sect which drew on itself such cruel treatment, and infused into its adherents a courage believed to be supernatural. They imagined that such a religion could be no other than the work of God; its partisans appeared extraordinary men, and their enthusiasm became contagious. Violence served only to spread it the more, and, according to the language of a Christian doctor, "the blood of the martyrs became the seed of the church." The clergy would fain make the propagation of Christianity pass for a miracle of divine omnipotence; while it was owing solely to natural causes inherent in the human mind, which always adheres strenuously to its own way of thinking; hardens itself against violence; applauds itself for its pertinacity; admires courage in others; feels an interest for those who display it; and suffers itself to be gained by their enthusiasm. The learned Dodwell has written two copious dissertations on the martyrs: the one to prove that they were not so numerous as is commonly imagined; and the other to demonstrate that their constancy originated in natural causes. The frenzy of martyrdom was in fact an epidemical disease among the first Christians, to which their spiritual physicians were obliged to apply remedies, as these wretched beings were guilty of suicide. Many of the primitive Christians, says Fleury, instead of _flying_ as the gospel directs, not only ran voluntarily to execution, but provoked their judges to do them that favor. Under Trajan, all the Christians in a city of Asia came in a body to the proconsul, and offered themselves to the slaughter, which made him cry, "O! ye unhappy people, if ye have a mind to die, have ye not halters and precipices enough to end your lives, but ye must come here for executioners." Marcus Antoninus severely reflected on the obstinacy of the Christians in thus running headlong to death; and Cyprian labored hard to comfort those who were so unhappy as to _escape_ the crown of martyrdom. Even the enemies of Julian, called the apostate by fanatics, admit that the Christians of his time did every thing they could to provoke that emperor to put them to death. Dr. Hickes, a celebrated protestant divine, says that the Christians "were _not_ illegally persecuted by Julian." Pride, vanity, prejudice, love, patriotism, and even vice itself, produce martyrs--a contempt of every kind of danger. Is it then surprising that enthusiasm and fanaticism, the strongest of passions, have so often enabled men to face the greatest dangers and despise death? Besides, if Christians can boast a catalogue of martyrs, Jews can do the same. The unfortunate Jews, condemned to the flames by the inquisition, were martyrs to their religion; and their fortitude proves as much in their favor as that of the Christians. If martyrs demonstrate the truth of a religion or sect, where are we to look for the true one? It is thus obvious that the obstinacy of the martyrs, far from being a sign of the divine protection or of the goodness of their cause, was the effect of blindness, occasioned by the reiterated lessons of their fanatical or deceitful priests. What conduct more extravagant than that of a sovereign able and without effusion of blood to extend his power, who should prefer to do it by the massacre of the most faithful of his subjects? Is it not annihilating the divine wisdom and goodness to assert, that a God to whom every thing is possible, among so many ways which he could have chosen to establish his religion, wished to follow that only of making its dearest friends fall a sacrifice to the fury of its cruellest enemies? Such are the notions which Christianity presents; and it is easy to perceive that they are the necessary consequences of a fundamental absurdity on which that religion is established. It maintains, that a just God had no wish to redeem guilty men, than by making his dear innocent son be put to death. According to such principles, it can excite no surprise that so unreasonable a God should wish to convert the heathen, his enemies, by the murder of Christians, his children. Though these absurdities are believed, such as do not possess the holy blindness of faith cannot comprehend why the Son of God, having already shed his blood for the redemption of men, was not a sufficient sacrifice? and why, to effect the conversion of the world, there was still a necessity for the blood of an immense number of martyrs, whose merits must have been undoubtedly much less than those of Jesus? To resolve these difficulties, theologians refer us to the eternal decrees, the wisdom of which we are not permitted to criticise. This is sending us far back indeed; yet notwithstanding the solidity of the answer, the incredulous persist in saying, that their limited understandings can neither find justice, nor wisdom, nor goodness, in eternal decrees which could in so preposterous a manner effect the salvation of the human race. Persecutions were not the only means by which Christianity was propagated. The preachers, zealous for the salvation of souls, or rather desirous to extend their own power over the minds of men, and strengthen their party, inherited from the Jews the passion of making proselytes. This passion suited presumptuous fanatics, who were persuaded, that they alone possessed the divine favor. It was unknown to the heathen, who permitted every one to adore his gods, providing that his worship did not disturb the public tranquillity. Prompted by zeal, the Christian missionaries, notwithstanding persecutions and dangers, spread themselves with an ardour unparalleled wherever they could penetrate, in order to convert idolators and bring back strayed sheep to the fold of Jesus. This activity merited the recompense of great success. Men, whom their idolatrous priests neglected, were flattered at being courted, and becoming the objects of the cares of those who, through pure disinterestedness, came from afar, and through the greatest perils to bring them consolation. They listened favourably to them; they shewed kindness to men so obliging, and were enchanted with their doctrine. Many adopted their lessons; placed themselves under their guidance, and soon became persuaded that their God and dogmas were superior to those which had preceded them. Thus by degrees, and without a miracle, Christianity planted colonies, more or less considerable, in every part of the Roman empire. They were directed, and governed by _inspectors_, _overseers_, or _bishops_, who, in spite of the dangers with which they were menaced, labored obstinately, and without intermission in augmenting the number of their disciples that is, of slaves devoted to their holy will. Empire over opinions was always the most unbounded. As nothing has greater power over the minds of the vulgar than religion, Christians every where displayed an unlimited submission to their spiritual sovereign, on whose laws they believed their eternal happiness depended. Thus our missionaries, converted into bishops, exercised a spiritual magistracy and sacred jurisdiction, which in the end placed them not only above other priests, but made them respected by, and necessary to, the temporal power. Princes have always employed religion and its ministers in crushing the people, and keeping them under the yoke. Impostures and delusions are of no use to sovereigns who govern, but they are very useful to those who _tyrannize_. CHAPTER XVIII. ACCOUNT OF CHRISTIANITY FROM CONSTANTINE TO THE PRESENT TIME. At the end of three centuries we find Christianity, advanced by all these means, become a formidable party in the Roman empire. The sovereign power acknowledged the impossibility of stifling it; and Christians, scattered in great numbers through all the provinces, formed an imposing combination. Ambitious chiefs incessantly wrested from one another the right of reigning over the wrecks of an enslaved republic: each sought to encrease his own strength, and acquire an advantage over his rivals. It was in these circumstances that Constantine, to strengthen himself first against Maxentius, and thereafter against Licinius, thought it his interest, by a stroke of policy, to draw over all the Christians to his party. For this purpose he openly favored them, and thereby reinforced his army with all the soldiers of that numerous sect. In gratitude for the advantages they procured him, he concluded with embracing their religion, now become so powerful. He honored, distinguished, and enriched the Christian bishops, well assured of attaching them to himself by his liberality to their pastors and the favor he shewed them. Aided by their succors, he flattered himself with the disposal of the flock. By this political revolution, so favorable to the clergy, the bashful chiefs of the Christians, who hitherto had reigned only in secret and without eclat, sprung out of the dust, and became men of importance. Seconded by a despotical emperor, whose interests were linked with theirs, they soon used their influence to avenge their injuries, and return to their enemies, with usury, the evils which they had received. The unexpected change in the fortune of the Christians made them forget the mild and tolerating maxims of their legislator. They conceived, that these maxims, made for wretches destitute of power, could no longer suit men supported by sovereigns; they attacked the temples and gods of paganism; their worshipers were excluded from places of trust, and the master lavished his favors on those only who consented to think like him, and justify his change by imitating it. Thus, without any miracle, the court became Christian, or at least feigned to be so, and the descendants of hypocritical courtiers were Christians in reality. Even before the time of Constantine, Christianity had been rent by disputes, heresies, schisms, and animosities between the Christian chiefs. The adherents of the different doctors had reviled, anathematised, and maltreated each other without their quarrels making any noise. The subtleties of Grecian metaphysics introduced into the Christian religion, had hatched an infinity of disputes, which had not hitherto been attended with any remarkable occurrence. All these quarrels burst forth in the reign of Constantine. The bishops and champions of different parties caballed to draw over the emperor to their side, and thus aid them in crushing their adversaries. At the same time a considerable party under the priest _Arius_, denied the divinity of Jesus. Little versed in the principles of the religion that party had embraced, but wishing to decide the question, Constantine referred it to the judgment of the bishops. He convened them in the city of Nice, and the plurality of suffrages regulated definitively the symbol of faith--Jesus became a God _consubstantial_ with his father; the Holy Ghost was likewise a God, _proceeding_ from the two others; finally, these _three_ Gods combined made only _one_ God! Tumultuous clamors carried this unintelligible decision, and converted it into a sacred dogma notwithstanding the reclamations of opponents, who were silenced by denouncing them blasphemers and heretics. The priests who had the strongest lungs, declared themselves _orthodox_. The emperor, little acquainted with the nature of the quarrel, ranged himself for the time on their side, and quitted it afterwards according as he thought proper to lend an ear sometimes to the bishops of one party, and sometimes to those of another. The history of the church informs us, that Constantine, whom we here see adhering to the decision of the council of Nice, made the orthodox and the heretics alternately experience his severities. After many years, and even ages of disputes, the bishops of Christendom have agreed in regarding Jesus as a true God. They felt that it was important for them to have a God for their founder, as this could not fail to render their own claims more respected. They maintained, that their authority was derived from the apostles, who held theirs directly from Christ; that is, from God himself. It would now-a-days be criminal to doubt the truth of this opinion, though many Christians are not yet convinced of it, and venture to appeal to the decision of the universal church. Except the English, all Protestant Christians reject Episcopacy, and regard it as an usurped power. Among the Catholics, the Jansenists think the same, which is the true cause of the enmity the Pope and Bishops display against them. It appears St. Jerome was, on this point, of the opinion of the Jansenists. Yet we see Paul at first much occupied in advancing the Episcopal dignity. Ignatius of Antioch, disciple of the apostles, insinuates in his epistles, the high opinion which the Christians ought to have of a bishop; and the very ancient author of the Apostolic Constitutions, openly declares, that a _bishop is a God on earth, destined to rule over all men, priests, kings, and magistrates_. Though these Constitutions are reputed Apocryphal, the bishops have conformed their conduct to them more than to the canonical gospel, wherein Jesus, far from assigning prerogatives to bishops, declares, that in his kingdom there will be _neither first nor last_. The bishops assembled at Nice, decided also, as we have related, on the authenticity of the gospels and books ordained to serve as a rule to Christians. It is then to these doctors, as has been already remarked, that Christians owe their faith; which, however, was afterwards frequently shaken by disputes, heresies, and wars, and even by assemblies of bishops, who often annulled what other assemblies of bishops had decreed in the most solemn manner. From Constantine to our time, the interest of the heads of the church dictated every decree, and established doctrines wholly unknown to the founders of their religion. The universe became the arena of the passions, the disputes, intrigues, and cruelties of these holy gladiators, who treated each other with the utmost barbarity. Kings, united in interest with spiritual chiefs, or blinded by them, thought themselves at all times obliged to partake of their fury. Princes seemed to hold the sword for the sole purpose of cutting the throats of victims pointed out by the priests. These blinded rulers believed they served God, or promote the welfare of their kingdoms by espousing all the passions of the priests who were become the most arrogant, the most vindictive, the most covetous, and the most flagitious of men. We shall not enter into a detail of all the quarrels which the Christian religion has produced. We shall merely observe, that they were continual, and have frequently been attended with consequences so deplorable that nations have had reason more than a hundred times every century to regret the peaceful paganism, and tolerating idolatry of their ancestors. The gospel, or _the glad tidings_, constantly gave the signal for the commission of crimes. _The Cross was the Banner under which madmen assembled to glut the earth with blood._ The will of heaven was understood by nobody: and the clergy disputed without end on the manner of explaining oracles, which the Deity had himself come to reveal to mortals. It was always indispensable to take a side in the most unintelligible quarrels: neutrality was regarded as impiety. The party for which the prince declared, was always _orthodox_, and on that account, believed it had a right to exterminate all others: the orthodox in the church were those who had the power to exile, imprison, and destroy their adversaries. Lucifer Calaritanus, a most orthodox bishop, in several discourses addressed to the son of Constantine, did not scruple to tell the emperor himself that it was the duty of the orthodox to kill Constantius on account of his Arianism, which he called Idolatry; and for this he quoted Deut. xiii. 6., and I Maccab. i. 43, to v. 29 of c. ii. The bishops, whom the puissance of an emperor had raised from the dust, soon became rebellious subjects; and, under pretence of maintaining their spiritual power, laboured to be independent of the sovereign, and even the laws of society. They maintained that princes themselves, "being subjects of Christ," ought to be subjected to the jurisdiction of his representatives on earth. Thus the pretended successors of some fishermen of Judea, whom Constantine had raised from obscurity arrogated to themselves the right of reigning over kings; and in this way the kingdom of heaven served to conquer the kingdoms of the earth. Hitherto the Christians had been governed by bishops or chiefs independent of each other, and perfectly equal as to jurisdiction. This made the church an aristocratical republic; but its government soon became monarchial, and even despotical. The respect which was always entertained for Rome the capital of the world, seemed to give a kind of superiority to the bishop or spiritual head of the Christians established there. His brethren, therefore frequently showed a deference to him, and occasionally consulted him. Nothing more was wanting to the ambition of the bishops of Rome, to advance the right they arrogated of dictating to their brethren, and to declare themselves the monarchs of the Christian church. A very apocryphal tradition had made Peter travel to Rome, and had also made this chief of the apostles establish his see in that city. The Roman bishop therefore, pretended to have succeeded to the rights of Simon Peter, to whom Jesus in the gospel had entrusted more particularly the care of feeding his sheep. He accordingly assumed the pompous titles of "Successor of St. Peter, Universal Bishop, and Vicar of Jesus Christ." It is true, these titles were often contested with him by the oriental bishops, too proud to bow under the yoke of their brother. But by degrees, through artifice, intrigue, and frequently violence, those who enjoyed the See of Rome, and prosecuting their project with ardor, succeeded in getting themselves acknowledged in the west as the heads of the Christian church. Pliant and submissive at first to sovereigns, whose power they dreaded, they soon mounted on their shoulders; and trampled them under their feet when they were certain of their power over the minds of devotees rendered frantic by superstition. Then indeed they threw off the mask, gave to nations the signal of revolt, incited Christians to their mutual destruction, and precipitated kings from their thrones. To support their pride, they shed oceans of blood: they made weak princes the vile sport of their passions, sometimes their victims and sometimes their executioners. Sovereigns, become their vassals, executed with fear and trembling the decrees Heaven pronounced against the enemies of the holy see which had created itself the arbiter of faith. In fact, these inhuman pontiffs immolated to their God a thousand times more human victims than paganism had sacrificed to all its divinities. After having succeeded in subduing the bishops, the head of the church, with a view to establish and preserve his empire inundated the states of the princes attached to the sect with a multitude of sabaltern priests and monks, who acted as his spies, his emissaries, and the organs which he employed in making known his will at a distance. Thus nations were deluged with men useless or dangerous. Some, under pretext of attaining Christian perfection, astonished the vulgar with a frantic life, denied themselves the pleasures of existence, renounced the world, and languished in the recesses of a cloister awaiting the death which their disagreeable pursuits must have rendered desirable. They imagined to please God by occupying themselves solely with prayers, and sterile and extravagant meditations; thus rendering themselves the victims of a destructive fanaticism. These, fools, whom Christianity esteems, may be considered as the victims and martyrs of the higher clergy, who take care never to imitate them. Few however felt themselves inclined to aspire to this sublime perfection. Most of the monks, more indulgent, were content with renouncing the world, vegetating in solitude, languishing in sloth, and living in absolute idleness at the expence of nations who toil. If some among them were devoted to study, it was only with the vain subtleties of an unintelligible theology calculated to incite disturbances in society. Others more active spread themselves over the globe; and, under pretence of preaching the gospel, preached up themselves, the interests of the clergy, and especially the submission due to the Roman pontiff, who was always their true sovereign. These emissaries, indeed, never had any other country than the church, any other master than its head, or any other interest than that of disturbing the state, in order to advance _the divine rights_ of the clergy. Faithful in following the example of Jesus, they brought _the sword_, sowed discord, and kindled wars, seditions, persecutions, and crusades. They sounded the tocsin of revolt against all princes who were disagreeable or rebellious to the haughty tyrant of the church; they frequently employed the sacrificing knife of fanaticism, and plunged it in the hearts of kings; and, to make the _cause of God_ prosper, they justified the most horrible crimes, and threw the whole earth into consternation. Such, especially in latter times, were the maxims and conduct of an order of monks, who, pretending to walk in the footsteps of Jesus, assumed the name of his _Society_. Solely and blindly devoted to the interests of the Roman pontiff, they seemed to have come into the world for the purpose of bringing the universe under his chains. They corrupted the youth, the education of whom they wished exclusively to engross; they strove to restore barbarism, knowing well that want of knowledge is the greatest prop of superstition; they extolled ignorance and blind submission; they depraved morals for which they substituted vain usages and superstitions, compatible with every vice, and calculated to suppress the remorse which crime occasions. They preached up slavery and unbounded submission to princes, who themselves were their slaves, and who consented to become the instruments of their vengeance. They preached rebellion and regicide against the princes who refused to bend under the odious yoke of the successor of St. Peter, whom they had the effrontery to declare _infallible_, and whose decisions they preferred above those of the universal church. By their assistance the pope became not only the despot, but even the true God of the Christians. There were some however, who ventured to protest against the violences, extortions, and usurpations of this spiritual tyrant. There were sovereigns who ventured to struggle with him; but in times of ignorance, the contest is always unequal between the temporal and spiritual power. At last preachers discontented with the Roman pontiff, opened the eyes of many; they preached _reformation_, and destroyed some abuses and dogmas which appeared to them that the most disgusting. Some princes seized this opportunity to break the chains wherewith they had been so long oppressed. Without renouncing Christianity, which they always regarded as a divine religion, they renounced Romish Christianity, which they considered a superstition corrupted through the avarice, influence, and passions of the clergy. Content with merely loping off some branches of a poisoned tree, which its bitter fruits should have discovered, our _reformers_ did not perceive that even the principles of a religion, founded on fanaticism and imposture, must of necessity produce fanatics and knaves. They did not observe, that religion, which pretends to enjoy exclusively the approbation of the Most High, must be from its essence arrogant and proud, and become at last tyrannical, intolerant, and sanguinary. They did not perceive that the mania of proselytism, the pretended zeal for the salvation of souls, the passion of the priests for dominion over consciences, must, sooner or later, create devastation. Christianity _reformed_, pretending to resemble the pure Christianity of the first days of the church, produced fiery preachers, persons illuminated, and public incendiaries, who under pretence of _establishing the kingdom of Christ_ excited endless troubles, massacres, and revolts. Christian Princes of every sect thought themselves obliged to support the decisions of their doctors. They regarded as infallible opinions which they themselves had adopted; they enforced them by fire and sword; and were every where in confederacy with their priests to make war on all who did not think like them. We see, especially, the intolerant and persecuting spirit reigning in countries which continue subject to the Roman pontiff. It was there that priests, nurtured in the maxims of a spiritual despotism, dared with most insolence to tyrannize over minds. They had the effrontery to maintain, that the prince could not without impiety dispense with entering into their quarrels, share their frenzy, and shed the blood of their enemies. Contrary to the express orders of Jesus, the emissaries of his vicar preached openly in his name persecution, revenge, hatred, and massacre. Their clamors imposed on sovereigns; and the least credulous trembled at sight of their power, which they dared not curb. A superstitious and cowardly policy made them believe, that it was the interest of the throne to unite itself for ever with these inhuman and boisterous madmen. Thus princes, submissive to the clergy, and making common cause with them, became the ministers of their vengeance, and the executors of their will. These blind rulers were obliged to support a power the rival of their own; but they did not perceive, that they injured their own authority by delivering up their subjects to the tyranny and extortions of a swarm of men, whose interest it was to plunge them into ignorance, incite their fanaticism, control their minds, domineer over their consciences, make them fit instruments to serve their pride, avarice, and revenge. By this worthless policy, the liberty of thinking was proscribed with fury, activity was repressed, science was punished, and industry crushed, while morals were neglected, and their place supplied by traditional observances. Nations vegetated in inactivity; men cultivated only monastic virtues, grievous to themselves and useless to society. They had no other impulse than what their fanaticism afforded, and no other science than an obscure jargon of theology. Their understandings were constantly occupied with puerile disputes on mysterious subtleties, unworthy of rational beings. Those futile occupations engrossed the attention of the most profound genius, whose labors would have been useful if they had been directed to objects really interesting. Under the despotism of priestcraft, nations were impoverished to foster, in abundance, in luxury, and often in drunkenness, legions of monks, priests, and pontiffs, from whom they derived no real benefit. Under pretence of supporting the intercessors with God, they richly endowed a multitude of drones, whose prayers and reveries procured only misery and dissensions. Education, entrusted throughout Christendom, to base or ignorant priests, formed superstitious persons only, destitute of the qualities necessary to make useful citizens. The instructions they gave to Christians were confined to dogmas and mysteries which they could never comprehend; they incessantly preached evangelical morality; but that sublime morality which all the world applauds, and which so few practise, because it is compatible with the nature and wants of man, did not restrain the passions, or check their irregularities. When that Stoical morality was attempted to be practised, it was only by imbecile fanatics or fiery enthusiasts, whom the ardour of their zeal rendered dangerous to society. The saints of Christianity were either the most useless or most flagitious of men. Princes, the great, the rich, and even the heads of the church, considered themselves excused from the literal practice of precepts and counsels, which a God himself had come to communicate. They left Christian perfection to some miserable monks, for whom alone it seemed originally destined. Complaisant guides smoothed for others the to Paradise, and, without bridling the passions, persuaded their votaries that it was sufficient to come at stated times _to confess_ their faults to them, humble themselves at their feet, undergo the penances and ceremonies which they should impose, and especially make donations to the church, in order to obtain from God remission of the outrages they committed on his creatures. By these means, in most Christian countries, people and princes openly united devotion with the most hideous depravity of manners, and often with the blackest crimes. There were devout tyrants and adulterers, oppressors and iniquitous ministers, courtiers without morals, and public depredators--all very devout. There were knaves of every kind displaying the greatest zeal for a religion, the ministers of which imposed easy expiations even on those who violated its most express precepts. Thus, by the cares of the spiritual guides of Christians, concord was banished from states; princes sunk into bondage; the people were blinded; science was stifled; nations were impoverished; true morality was unknown; and the most devout Christians were devoid of those talents and virtues which are indispensably necessary for the support of society. Such are the immense advantages which the religion of Jesus has procured to the world! Such are the effects we see resulting from the gospel, or the _glad tidings_ which the Son of God came in person to announce! To judge of it by its fruits; that is, according to the rule which the messiah himself has given, the incredulous find that Christianity was allegorically represented by the fig tree accursed. But those who have faith assure us, that in the other world this tree will produce delicious fruits. We must therefore wait for them in patience, for every thing evinces that the great benefits promised by this religion are very little perceptible in the present world. There are, however, some who carry incredulity so far as to think, that if there exists a God really jealous of his rights, he will confer no reward on those who are so impious as to associate with him a man, a Jew, and a Charlatan; and to pay him honors which are due only to the divinity. Indeed, in supposing that God is offended with the actions of his creatures, and concerns himself with their behaviour, he must be irritated at the odious conduct of many Christians, who, under pretence of devotion and zeal, believe themselves permitted to violate the most sacred duties of nature of which they make the Deity the author. It is, add our unbelievers, very difficult to calculate the duration of human extravagancies; but they flatter themselves that the reign of falsehood and error will terminate at some period, and give place to reason and truth. They hope, the nations and their chiefs will one day perceive the danger resulting from their prejudices; that they will blush at having prostituted their praises on objects deserving sovereign contempt; that they will regret the blood and treasure which baneful fables and reveries have cost them; and that they will be at last ashamed of having been the dupes and victims of a mass of romances, destitute of probability, at never possessing a more solid foundation than the astonishing credulity of men, and the astonishing impudence of those who preach them. These unbelievers venture at least a glimpse at a time when men, become more sensible of their own interest, will acknowledge the truly barbarous folly of hating and tormenting themselves, and cutting one another's throats for obscure dogmas, puerile opinions, and ceremonially unworthy of rational beings, and on which it is impossible to be ever unanimous. They even have the temerity to maintain, that it is very possible sovereigns and subjects may one day loathe a religion burdensome to the people, and producing real advantages only to the priests of a beggarly and crucified God. They think, that the profane laity, if undeceived, could easily bring their priests back to the frugal life of the apostles or of Jesus whom they ought to regard as a model at least, these unbelievers imagine that the ministers of the God of peace would be obliged to live more peaceably, and follow some occupation more honest than that of deceiving, and tearing to pieces the society which fosters them. If it is demanded of us what can be substituted for a religion which at all times has produced effects pernicious to the happiness of the human race, we will bid men cultivate the reason, which, much better than absurd and deceptive systems, will advance their welfare, and make them sensible to the value of virtue. Finally, we will tell them with Tertullian, _Why pain yourselves in seeking for a divine law, when you have that which is common to mankind, and engraven on the tablets of NATURE_. 
40285	----	[Illustration: Cover] THE SYRIAN CHRIST BY ABRAHAM MITRIE RIHBANY BOSTON AND NEW YORK HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY The Riverside Press Cambridge 1916 COPYRIGHT, 1916, BY THE ATLANTIC MONTHLY COMPANY COPYRIGHT, 1916, BY ABRAHAM MITRIE RIHBANY ALL RIGHTS RESERVED _Published October 1916_ {v} PREFACE This little volume is sent forth in the confident hope that it may throw fresh light on the life and teachings of Christ, and facilitate for the general public the understanding of the Bible. As may be readily seen, from its perusal, the present work is not intended to be a commentary on the Bible, nor even an exhaustive study of the subject with which it deals. That it leaves many things to be desired is very evident to the author, who fears that his book will be remembered by its readers more by the things it lacks than by the things it contains. Yet, from the cordial reception with which the opening chapters of this publication (which made their first appearance in the _Atlantic Monthly_) met from readers, of various religious affiliations, the author has been encouraged to believe that his aim has not only been clearly {vi} discerned, but thoroughly approved. The books which undertake the systematic "expounding of the Scriptures" are a host which no man can number, nor is there any lack of "spiritual lessons drawn from the Bible." Therefore, as one of the Master's fellow countrymen, and one who has enjoyed about twenty years of service in the American pulpit, I have for several years entertained the growing conviction that such a book as this was really needed. Not, however, as one more commentary, but as an Oriental guide to afford Occidental readers of the Bible a more intimate view of the original intellectual and social environment of this sacred literature. So what I have to offer here is a series of suggestions, and not of technically wrought Bible lessons. The need of the Western readers of the Bible is, in my judgment, to enter sympathetically and intelligently into the atmosphere in which the books of the Scriptures first took form: to have real intellectual, as well as spiritual, fellowship with those Orientals who sought {vii} earnestly in their own way to give tangible form to those great spiritual truths which have been, and ever shall be, humanity's most precious heritage. My task has not been a light one. It is comparatively easy to take isolated Bible texts and explain them, treating each passage as a detached unit. But when one undertakes to group a large number of passages which never were intended to be gathered together and treated as the kindred thoughts of an essay, the task becomes rather difficult. How far I have succeeded in my effort to relate the passages I have treated in this book to one another according to their intellectual and social affinities, the reader is in a better position to judge than I am. It may not be absolutely necessary for me to say that infallibility cannot justly be ascribed to any author, nor claimed by him, even when writing of his own experiences, and the social environment in which he was born and brought up. However, in Yankee, not in Oriental, {viii} fashion, I will say that _to the best of my knowledge_ the statements contained in this book are correct. Finally, I deem it necessary before I bring this preface to a close to sound a note of warning. So I will say that the Orientals' extensive use of figurative speech should by no means be allowed to carry the idea that _all_ Oriental speech is figurative. This manner of speech, which is common to all races of men, is only _more extensively_ used by Orientals than by Occidentals. I could wish, however, that the learned theologians had suspected more strongly the literal accuracy of Oriental utterances, and had thus been saved at times from founding a huge doctrinal structure on a figure of speech. Notwithstanding all this, the Gospel and the Christian faith still live and bless and cheer the hearts and minds of men. As an Oriental by birth, and as an American from choice, I feel profoundly grateful that I have been enabled to render this modest service to the Churches of {ix} America, and to present this book as an offering of love and homage to my Master, the Syrian Christ. ABRAHAM MITRIE RIHBANY BOSTON, MASSACHUSETTS. {xi} CONTENTS PART I. THE SYRIAN CHRIST. I. Son of the East II. Birth of a Man Child III. The Star IV. Mystic Tones V. Filial Obedience VI. Feast and Sacrament VII. The Last Scene PART II. The Oriental Manner Of Speech. I. Daily Language II. Imprecations III. Love of Enemies IV. "The Unveracious Oriental" V. Impressions _vs._ Literal Accuracy VI. Speaking in Parables VII. Swearing VIII. Four Characteristics {xii} PART III. BREAD AND SALT I. The Sacred 'Aish II. "Our Daily Bread" III. "Compel Them to come in" IV. Delaying the Departing Guest V. Family Feasts PART IV. OUT IN THE OPEN I. Shelter and Home II. Resigned Travelers III. The Market Place IV. The Housetop V. The Vineyards and the Fields VI. The Shepherd PART V. SISTERS OF MARY AND MARTHA I. Woman East and West II. Paul and Woman III. Jesus and his Mother IV. "A Gracious Woman" PART VI. Here and There in the Bible Index {3} PART I THE SYRIAN CHRIST THE SYRIAN CHRIST CHAPTER I SON OF THE EAST Jesus Christ, the incarnation of the spirit of God, seer, teacher of the verities of the spiritual life, and preacher of the fatherhood of God and the brotherhood of man, is, in a higher sense, "a man without a country." As a prophet and a seer Jesus belongs to all races and all ages. Wherever the minds of men respond to simple truth, wherever the hearts of men thrill with pure love, wherever a temple of religion is dedicated to the worship of God and the service of man, there is Jesus' country and there are his friends. Therefore, in speaking of Jesus as the son of a certain country, I do not mean in the least to localize his Gospel, or to set bounds and limits to the flow of his spirit and the workings of his love. Nor is it my aim in these chapters to imitate {4} the astute theologians by wrestling with the problem of Jesus' personality. To me the secret of personality, human and divine, is an impenetrable mystery. My more modest purpose in this writing is to remind the reader that, whatever else Jesus was, as regards his modes of thought and life and his method of teaching, he was a Syrian of the Syrians. According to authentic history Jesus never saw any other country than Palestine. There he was born; there he grew up to manhood, taught his Gospel, and died for it. It is most natural, then, that Gospel truths should have come down to the succeeding generations--and to the nations of the West--cast in Oriental moulds of thought, and intimately intermingled with the simple domestic and social habits of Syria. The gold of the Gospel carries with it the sand and dust of its original home. From the foregoing, therefore, it may be seen that my reason for undertaking to throw fresh light on the life and teachings of Christ, and {5} other portions of the Bible whose correct understanding depends on accurate knowledge of their original environment, is not any claim on my part to great learning or a profound insight into the spiritual mysteries of the Gospel. The real reason is rather an accident of birth. From the fact that I was born not far from where the Master was born, and brought up under almost the identical conditions under which he lived, I have an "inside view" of the Bible which, by the nature of things, a Westerner cannot have. And I know that the conditions of life in Syria of to-day are essentially as they were in the time of Christ, not from the study of the mutilated tablets of the archæologist and the antiquarian, precious as such discoveries are, but from the simple fact that, as a sojourner in this Western world, whenever I open my Bible it reads like a letter from home. Its unrestrained effusiveness of expression; its vivid, almost flashy and fantastic imagery; its naïve narrations; the rugged unstudied simplicity of its parables; its unconventional (and {6} to the more modest West rather unseemly) portrayal of certain human relations; as well as its all-permeating spiritual mysticism,--so far as these qualities are concerned, the Bible might all have been written in my primitive village home, on the western slopes of Mount Lebanon some thirty years ago. Nor do I mean to assert or even to imply that the Western world has never succeeded in knowing the mind of Christ. Such an assertion would do violent injustice, not only to the Occidental mind, but to the Gospel itself as well, by making it an enigma, utterly foreign to the native spirituality of the majority of mankind. But what I have learned from intimate associations with the Western mind, during almost a score of years in the American pulpit, is that, with the exception of the few specialists, it is extremely difficult, if not impossible, for a people to understand fully a literature which has not sprung from that people's own racial life. As a repository of divine revelation the Bible knows no geographical limits. Its spiritual truths are {7} from God to man. But as a literature the Bible is an imported article in the Western world, especially in the home of the Anglo-Saxon race. The language of the Scriptures, the mentality and the habits of life which form the setting of their spiritual precepts, and the mystic atmosphere of those precepts themselves, have come forth from the soul of a people far removed from the races of the West in almost all the modes of its earthly life. You cannot study the life of a people successfully from the outside. You may by so doing succeed in discerning the few fundamental traits of character in their local colors, and in satisfying your curiosity with surface observations of the general modes of behavior; but the little things, the common things, those subtle connectives in the social vocabulary of a people, those agencies which are born and not made, and which give a race its rich distinctiveness, are bound to elude your grasp. There is so much in the life of a people which a stranger to that people must receive {8} by way of unconscious absorption. Like a little child, he must learn so many things by involuntary imitation. An outside observer, though wise, is only a photographer. He deals with externals. He can be converted into an artist and portray the life of a race by working from the soul outward, only through long, actual, and sympathetic associations with that race. From the foregoing it may be seen that I deem it rather hazardous for a six-weeks tourist in that country to publish a book on the _life_ of Syria. A first-class camera and "an eye to business" are hardly sufficient qualifications for the undertaking of such a task. It is very easy, indeed, to take a photograph, but not so easy to relate such a picture to the inner life of a race, and to know what moral and social forces lie behind such externals. The hasty traveler may easily state what certain modes of thought and life in a strange land mean to _him_, but does that necessarily mean that _his_ understanding of such things is also the understanding of the _people_ of that land themselves? {9} With the passing of the years, this thought gains in significance with me, as a Syrian immigrant. At about the end of my second year of residence in this country, I felt confident that I could write a book on America and the Americans whose accuracy no one could challenge. It was so easy for me to grasp the significance of certain general aspects of American life that I felt I was fully competent to state how the American people lived, what their racial, political, and religious tendencies were, what their idioms of speech meant, and to interpret their amorous, martial, dolorous, and joyous moods with perfect accuracy and ease. But now, after a residence of about twenty-four years in America--years which I have spent in most intimate association with Americans, largely of the "original stock"--I do not feel half so confident that I am qualified to write such a book. The more intimate I become with American thought, the deeper I penetrate the American spirit, the more enlightened my associations become with American fathers, mothers, {10} and children in the joys and sorrows of life, the more fully do I realize how extremely difficult, if not impossible, it is for one to interpret successfully the life of an alien people before one has actually _lived it_ himself. Many Westerners have written very meritorious books on the thought and life of the East. But these are not of the "tourist" type. Such writers have been those who, first, had the initial wisdom to realize that the beggars for _bakhsheesh_ in the thoroughfares of Syrian cities, and those who hitch a woman with an ox to the plough in some dark recesses of Palestine, did not possibly represent the deep soul of that ancient East, which gave birth to the Bible and to the glorious company of prophets, apostles, and saints. Second, such writers knew, also, that the fine roots of a people's life do not lie on the surface. Such feeders of life are both deep and fine; not only long residence among a people, but intimate association and genuine sympathy with them are necessary to reveal to a stranger the hidden {11} meaning of their life. Social life, like biological life, energizes from within, and from within it must be studied. And it is those common things of Syrian life, so indissolubly interwoven with the spiritual truths of the Bible, which cause the Western readers of holy writ to stumble, and which rob those truths for them of much of their richness. By sheer force of genius, the aggressive, systematic Anglo-Saxon mind seeks to press into logical unity and creedal uniformity those undesigned, artless, and most natural manifestations of Oriental life, in order to "understand the Scriptures." "Yet show I unto you a more excellent way," by personally conducting you into the inner chambers of Syrian life, and showing you, if I can, how simple it is for a humble fellow countryman of Christ to understand those social phases of the Scriptural passages which so greatly puzzle the august minds of the West. {12} CHAPTER II BIRTH OF A MAN CHILD In the Gospel story of Jesus' life there is not a single incident that is not in perfect harmony with the prevailing modes of thought and the current speech of the land of its origin. I do not know how many times I heard it stated in my native land and at our own fireside that heavenly messengers in the forms of patron saints or angels came to pious, childless wives, in dreams and visions, and cheered them with the promise of maternity. It was nothing uncommon for such women to spend a whole night in a shrine "wrestling in prayer," either with the blessed Virgin or some other saint, for such a divine assurance; and I remember a few of my own kindred to have done so. Perhaps the most romantic religious practice in this connection is the _zeara_. Interpreted literally, the word _zeara_ means simply a visit. In its social use it is the equivalent of {13} a call of long or short duration. But religiously the _zeara_ means a pilgrimage to a shrine. However, strictly speaking, the word "pilgrimage" means to the Syrians a journey of great religious significance whose supreme purpose is the securing of a blessing for the pilgrim, with no reference to a special need. The _zeara_ is a pilgrimage with a specific purpose. The _zayir_ (visitor to a shrine) comes seeking either to be healed of a certain ailment, to atone for a sin, or to be divinely helped in some other way. Unlike a pilgrimage also, a _zeara_ may be made by one person in behalf of another. When, for example, a person is too ill to travel, or is indifferent to a spiritual need which such a visit is supposed to fill, his parents or other close friends may make a _zeara_ in his behalf. But much more often a _zeara_ is undertaken by women for the purpose of securing the blessing of fecundity, or consecrating an approaching issue of wedlock (if it should prove to be a male) to God, and to the patron saint of the visited sanctuary. {14} Again the word "pilgrimage" is used only to describe a visit by a Christian to Jerusalem, or by a Mohammedan to Mecca, while the _zeara_ describes a visit to any one of the lesser shrines. The happy journey is often made on foot, the parties most concerned walking all the way "on the flesh of their feet"; that is, with neither shoes nor sandals on. This great sacrifice is made as a mark of sincere humility which is deemed to be pleasing to God and his holy saints. However, the wearing of shoes and even the use of mounts is not considered a sinful practice on such occasions, and is indulged in by many of the well-to-do families. The state of the heart is, of course, the chief thing to be considered. In the fourth chapter of the Second Book of Kings we are told that "the Shunammite woman" used an ass when she sought Elisha to restore her dead son to her. In the twenty-second verse (the Revised Version), we are told, "And she called unto her husband, and said, {15} Send me, I pray thee, one of the servants, and one of the asses, that I may run to the man of God, and come again.... Then she saddled an ass, and said to her servant, Drive, and go forward; slacken me not the riding, except I bid thee. So she went, and came unto the man of God to mount Carmel." Fasting and prayer on the way are often pronounced phases of a _zeara_. However, wine-drinking by the men in the company and noisy gayety are not deemed altogether incompatible with the solemnity of the occasion. The pious visitors carry with them presents to the abbot and to the monks who serve the shrine. A silver or even gold candlestick, or a crown of either metal for the saint, is also carried to the altar. The young mother in whose behalf the _zeara_ is undertaken is tenderly cared for by every member of the party. She is "the chosen vessel of the Lord." The _zûwar_ (visitors) remain at the holy shrine for one or two nights, or until the "presence" is revealed; that is, until the saint {16} manifests himself. The prayerfully longed-for manifestation comes almost invariably in a dream, either to the mother or some other worthy in the party. How like the story of Joseph all this is! In the first chapter of St. Matthew's Gospel, the twentieth verse, it is said of Joseph, "But while he thought on these things, behold, the angel of the Lord appeared unto him in a dream, saying, Joseph, thou son of David, fear not to take unto thee Mary thy wife: for that which is conceived in her is of the Holy Ghost. And she shall bring forth a son, and thou shalt call his name Jesus; for he shall save his people from their sins." In this manner the promise is made to the waiting mother, who "keeps these things, and ponders them in her heart." The promise thus secured, the mother and the father vow that the child shall be a _nedher_; that is, consecrated to the saint who made the promise to the mother. The vow may mean one of several things. Either that a sum of {17} money be "given to the saint" upon the advent of the child, or that the child be carried to the same sanctuary on another _zeara_ with gifts, and so forth, or that his hair will not be cut until he is seven years old, and then cut for the first time before the image of his patron saint at the shrine, or some other act of pious fulfillment. The last form of a vow, the consecration of the hair of the head for a certain period, is practiced by men of all ages. The vow is made as a petition for healing from a serious illness, rescue from danger, or purely as an act of consecration. In the eighteenth chapter of the Book of Acts, the eighteenth verse, we have the statement: "And Paul after this tarried there yet a good while, and then took his leave of the brethren, and sailed thence into Syria, and with him Priscilla and Aquila; _having shorn his head in Cenchrea: for he had a vow_." It was also in connection with this practice that Paul was induced by the "brethren" at Jerusalem to make a compromise which cost him dearly. {18} In the twenty-first chapter of Acts, the twenty-third verse, we are told that those brethren said to Paul, "We have four men who have a vow on them; them take, and purify thyself with them, and be at charges for them, that they may _shave their heads_." The last service of this kind which I attended in Syria was for a cousin of mine, a boy of twelve, who was a _nedher_, or as the word is rendered in the English Bible, a Nazarite. We assembled in the church of St. George of Sûk. The occasion was very solemn. A mass was celebrated after the order of the Greek Orthodox Church. Near the close of the service the tender lad was brought by his parents in front of the Royal Door at the altar. While repeating a prayer, the priest cut the hair on the crown of the boy's head with the scissors, in the shape of a cross. The simple act released the child and his parents of their solemn vow. "Twentieth-century culture" is prone to call all such practices superstitions. So they are to a large extent. But I deem it the higher {19} duty of this culture to _interpret_ sympathetically rather than to condemn superstition in a sweeping fashion. I am a lover of a rational theology and a reasonable faith, but I feel that in our enthusiasm for such a theology and such a faith we often fail to appreciate the deep spiritual longing which is expressed in superstitious forms of worship. What is there in such religious practices as those I have mentioned but the expression of the heart-burning of those parents for the spiritual welfare and security of their children? What do we find here but evidences of a deep and sincere yearning for divine blessings to come upon the family and the home? Thoughts of God at the marriage altar; thoughts of God when the promise of parenthood becomes evident; thoughts of God when a child comes into the world; thoughts of God and of his holy prophets and saints as friends and companions in all the changes and chances of the world. Here the challenge to modern rationalism is not to content itself with rebuking superstitions, but to give {20} the world deeper spiritual visions than those which superstitions reveal, and to compass childhood and youth by the gracious presence of the living God. In a most literal sense we always understood the saying of the psalmist, "Children are a heritage from the Lord." Above and beyond all natural agencies, it was He who turned barrenness to fecundity and worked the miracle of birth. To us every birth was miraculous, and childlessness an evidence of divine disfavor. From this it may be inferred how tenderly and reverently agreeable to the Syrian ear is the angel's salutation to Mary, "Hail, thou that art highly favored, the Lord is with thee; blessed art thou among women!--Behold thou shalt conceive in thy womb and bring forth a son."[1] A miracle? Yes. But a miracle means one thing to your Western science, which seeks to know what nature is and does by dealing with secondary causes, and quite another thing to {21} an Oriental, to whom God's will is the law and gospel of nature. In times of intellectual trouble this man takes refuge in his all-embracing faith,--the faith that to God all things are possible. The Oriental does not try to meet an assault upon his belief in miracles by seeking to establish the historicity of concrete reports of miracles. His poetical, mystical temperament seeks its ends in another way. Relying upon his fundamental faith in the omnipotence of God, he throws the burden of proof upon his assailant by challenging him to substantiate his _denial_ of the miracles. So did Paul (in the twenty-sixth chapter of the Book of Acts) put his opponents at a great disadvantage by asking, "Why should it be thought a thing incredible with you, that God should raise the dead?" But the story of Jesus' birth and kindred Bible records disclose not only the predisposition of the Syrian mind to accept miracles as divine acts, without critical examination, but {22} also its attitude toward conception and birth,--an attitude which differs fundamentally from that of the Anglo-Saxon mind. With the feeling of one who has been reminded of having ignorantly committed an improper act, I remember the time when kind American friends admonished me not to read from the pulpit such scriptural passages as detailed the accounts of conception and birth, but only to allude to them in a general way. I learned in a very short time to obey the kindly advice, but it was a long time before I could swing my psychology around and understand why in America such narratives were so greatly modified in transmission. The very fact that such stories are found in the Bible shows that in my native land no such sifting of these narratives is ever undertaken when they are read to the people. From childhood I had been accustomed to hear them read at our church, related at the fireside, and discussed reverently by men and women at all times and places. There is nothing in the {23} phraseology of such statements which is not in perfect harmony with the common, everyday speech of my people. To the Syrians, as I say, "children are a heritage from the Lord." From the days of Israel to the present time, barrenness has been looked upon as a sign of divine disfavor, an intolerable calamity. Rachel's cry, "Give me children, or else I die,"[2] does not exaggerate the agony of a childless Syrian wife. When Rebecca was about to depart from her father's house to become Isaac's wife, her mother's ardent and effusively expressed wish for her was, "Be thou the mother of thousands of millions."[3] This mother's last message to her daughter was not spoken in a corner. I can see her following the bride to the door, lifting her open palms and turning her face toward heaven, and making her affectionate petition in the hearing of a multitude of guests, who must have echoed her words in chorus. In the congratulations of guests at a {24} marriage feast the central wish for the bridegroom and bride is invariably thus expressed: "May you be happy, live long, and have many children!" And what contrasts very sharply with the American reticence in such matters is the fact that shortly after the wedding, the friends of the young couple, both men and women, begin to ask them about their "prospects" for an heir. No more does a prospective mother undertake in any way to disguise the signs of the approaching event, than an American lady to conceal her engagement ring. Much mirth is enjoyed in such cases, also, when friends and neighbors, by consulting the stars, or computing the number of letters in the names of the parents and the month in which the miracle of conception is supposed to have occurred, undertake to foretell whether the promised offspring will be a son or a daughter. In that part of the country where I was brought up, such wise prognosticators believed, and made us all believe, that if the calculations resulted in an odd number the birth would be a son, but {25} if in an even number, a daughter, which, as a rule, is not considered so desirable. Back of all these social traits, and beyond the free realism of the Syrian in speaking of conception and birth, lies a deeper fact. To Eastern peoples, especially the Semites, reproduction in all the world of life is profoundly sacred. It is God's life reproducing itself in the life of man and in the living world below man; therefore the evidences of this reproduction should be looked upon and spoken of with rejoicing. Notwithstanding the many and fundamental intellectual changes which I have undergone in this country of my adoption, I count as among the most precious memories of my childhood my going with my father to the vineyard, just as the vines began to "come out," and hearing him say as he touched the swelling buds, "Blessed be the Creator. He is the Supreme Giver. May He protect the blessed increase." Of this I almost always think when I read the words of the psalmist, "The earth is the Lord's and the fullness thereof!" {26} Now I do not feel at all inclined to say whether the undisguised realism of the Orientals in speaking of reproduction is better than the delicate reserve of the Anglo-Saxons. In fact, I have been so reconstructed under Anglo-Saxon auspices as to feel that the excessive reserve of this race with regard to such things is not a serious fault, but rather the defect of a great virtue. My purpose is to show that the unreconstructed Oriental, to whom reproduction is the most sublime manifestation of God's life, cannot see why one should be ashamed to speak anywhere in the world of the fruits of wedlock, of a "woman with child." One might as well be ashamed to speak of the creative power as it reveals itself in the gardens of roses and the fruiting trees. Here we have the background of the stories of Sarah, when the angel-guest prophesied fecundity for her in her old age; of Rebecca, and the wish of her mother for her, that she might become "the mother of thousands"; of Elizabeth, when the "babe leaped in her womb," {27} as she saw her cousin Mary; and of the declaration of the angel to Joseph's spouse; "Thou shalt conceive in thy womb and bring forth a son." Here it is explained, also, why upon the birth of a "man-child," well-wishers troop into the house,--even on the very day of birth,--bring their presents, and congratulate the parents on the divine gift to them. It was because of this custom that those strangers, the three "Wise Men" and Magi of the Far East, were permitted to come in and see the little Galilean family, while the mother was yet in childbed. So runs the Gospel narrative: "And when they were come into the house, they saw the young child with Mary his mother, and fell down and worshipped him: and when they had opened their treasures, they presented unto him gifts,--gold, frankincense, and myrrh."[4] So also were the humble shepherds privileged to see the wondrous child shortly after birth. "And it came to pass, as the angels were gone away from them into heaven, the {28} shepherds said one to another, Let us now go to Bethlehem, and see this thing which is come to pass, which the Lord hath made known unto us. And they came with haste, and found Mary and Joseph and the babe lying in a manger."[5] In the twelfth verse of the second chapter of the Gospel of St. Luke, the English version says, "And this shall be a sign unto you; ye shall find a babe wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger." Here the word "clothes" is somewhat misleading. The Arabic version gives a perfect rendering of the fact by saying, "Ye shall find a _swaddled_ babe, _laid_ in a manger." According to general Syrian custom, in earliest infancy a child is not really clothed, it is only swaddled. Upon birth the infant is washed in tepid water by the midwife, then salted, or rubbed gently with salt pulverized in a stone mortar especially for the occasion. (The salt commonly used in Syrian homes is coarse-chipped.) Next the babe is sprinkled with {29} _rehan_,--a powder made of dried myrtle leaves,--and then swaddled. The swaddle is a piece of stout cloth about a yard square, to one corner of which is attached a long narrow band. The infant, with its arms pressed close to its sides, and its feet stretched full length and laid close together, is wrapped in the swaddle, and the narrow band wound around the little body, from the shoulders to the ankles, giving the little one the exact appearance of an Egyptian mummy. Only a few of the good things of this mortal life were more pleasant to me when I was a boy than to carry in my arms a swaddled babe. The "salted" and "peppered" little creature felt so soft and so light, and was so appealingly helpless, that to cuddle it was to me an unspeakable benediction. Such was the "babe of Bethlehem" that was sought by the Wise Men and the shepherds in the wondrous story of the Nativity. And in describing such Oriental customs it may be significant to point out that, in certain {30} localities in Syria, to say to a person that he was not "salted" upon birth is to invite trouble. Only a _bendûq_, or the child of an unrecognized father, is so neglected. And here may be realized the full meaning of that terrible arraignment of Jerusalem in the sixteenth chapter of the Book of Ezekiel. The Holy City had done iniquity, and therefore ceased to be the legitimate daughter of Jehovah. So the prophet cries, "The Lord came unto me, saying, Son of man, cause Jerusalem to know her abominations, and say, Thus saith the Lord God unto Jerusalem; Thy birth and thy nativity are of the land of Canaan; thy father was an Amorite, and thy mother a Hittite. And as for thy nativity, in the day thou wast born--neither wast thou washed in water to supple[6] thee; _thou wast not salted at all, nor swaddled at all_. No eye pitied thee, to do any of these things for thee, to have compassion upon thee; but thou wast cast out in the open field, to the loathing of thy person, in the day thou wast born." [1] Luke i: 28, 31. [2] Gen. xxx; 1. [3] Gen. xxiv: 60. [4] Matt. ii: 11. [5] Luke ii: 15-16. [6] "Cleanse" in the Revised Version. {31} CHAPTER III THE STAR How natural to the thought of the East the story of the "star of Bethlehem" is! To the Orientals "the heavens declare the glory of God," and the stars reveal many wondrous things to men. They are the messengers of good and evil, and objects of the loftiest idealization, as well as of the crudest superstitions. Those who have gazed upon the stars in the deep, clear Syrian heavens can find no difficulty in entering into the spirit of the majestic strains of the writer of the eighth Psalm. "When I consider thy heavens," says this ancient singer, "the work of thy fingers, the moon and the stars, which thou hast ordained; what is man, that thou art mindful of him? and the son of man, that thou visitest him?" Deeps beyond deeps are revealed through that dry, soft, and clear atmosphere of the "land of promise," yet the constellations seem as near {32} to the beholder as parlor lamps. "My soul longeth" for the vision of the heavens from the heights of my native Lebanon, and the hills of Palestine. It is no wonder to me that my people have always considered the stars as guides and companions, and as awe-inspiring manifestations of the Creator's power, wisdom, and glory. "The heavens declare the glory of God; and the firmament sheweth his handywork. Day unto day uttereth speech and night unto night sheweth knowledge."[1] So great is the host of the stars seen by the naked eye in that land that the people of Syria have always likened a great multitude to the stars of heaven or the sand of the sea. Of a great assemblage of people we always said, "They are _methel-ennijoom_--like the stars" (in number). So it is written in the twenty-eighth chapter of Deuteronomy, the sixty-second verse, "And ye shall be left few in number, whereas ye were _as the stars of heaven for multitude_; because thou wouldst not obey the {33} voice of the Lord thy God." According to that great narrative in Genesis, God promised Abraham that his progeny would be as the stars in number. In the fifteenth chapter, the fifth verse, it is said, "And he brought him forth abroad, and said, Look now toward heaven, and tell the stars, if thou be able to number them: and he said unto him, So shall thy seed be." In speaking of the omniscience of God the writer of the one hundred and forty-seventh Psalm says, "He telleth the number of the stars; he calleth them all by their names. Great is our Lord, and of great power: his understanding is infinite." But the numberless lights of the firmament were brought even closer to us through the belief that they had vital connection with the lives of men on the earth. I was brought up to believe that every human being had a star in heaven which held the secret of his destiny and which watched over him wherever he went. In speaking of an amiable person it is said, "His star is attractive" (_nejmo jeddeeb_). Persons {34} love one another when "their stars are in harmony." A person is in unfavorable circumstances when his star is in the sphere of "misfortune" (_nehiss_), and so forth. The stars indicated the time to us when we were traveling by night, marked the seasons, and thus fulfilled their Creator's purpose by serving "for signs, and for seasons, and for days and years." In every community we had "star-gazers" who could tell each person's star. We placed much confidence in such mysterious men, who could "arrest" an absent person's star in its course and learn from it whether it was well or ill with the absent one. Like a remote dream, it comes to me that as a child of about ten I went out one night with my mother to seek a "star-gazer" to locate my father's star and question the shining orb about him. My father had been away from home for some time, and owing to the meagerness of the means of communication in that country, especially in those days, we had no news of him at all. During that afternoon {35} my mother said that she felt "heavy-hearted" for no reason that she knew; therefore she feared that some ill must have befallen the head of our household, and sought to "know" whether her fear was well grounded. The "star-arrester," leaning against an aged mulberry tree, turned his eyes toward the stellar world, while his lips moved rapidly and silently as if he were repeating words of awful import. Presently he said, "I see him. He is sitting on a cushion, leaning against the wall and smoking his _narghile_. There are others with him, and he is in his usual health." The man took pains to point out the "star" to my mother, who, after much sympathetic effort, felt constrained to say that she did see what the star-gazer claimed he saw. But at any rate, mother declared that she was no longer "heavy-hearted." In my most keen eagerness to see my father and his _narghile_ in the star, at least for mere intellectual delight, I clung to the arm of the reader of the heavens like a frightened kitten, {36} and insisted upon "seeing." The harder he tried to shake me off, the deeper did my organs of apprehension sink into his sleeve. At last the combined efforts of my mother and the heir of the ancient astrologers forced me to believe that I was "too young to behold such sights." It was the excessive leaning of his people upon such practices that led Isaiah to cry, "Thou art wearied in the multitude of thy counsels. Let now the astrologers, the star-gazers, the monthly prognosticators, stand up and save thee from these things that shall come upon thee. Behold, they shall be as stubble; the fire shall burn them; they shall not deliver themselves from the power of the flames." Beyond all such crudities, however, lies the sublime and sustaining belief that the stars are alive with God. The lofty strains of such scriptural passages as the nineteenth Psalm and the beautiful story of the star of Bethlehem, indicate that to the Oriental mind the "hosts of heaven" are no mere masses of dust, {37} but the agencies of the Creator's might and love. So the narrative of the Nativity in our Gospel sublimates the beliefs of the Orientals about God's purpose in those lights of the firmament, by making the guide of the Wise Men to the birthplace of the Prince of Peace a great star, whose pure and serene light symbolized the peace and holiness which, in the "fullness of time," his kingdom shall bring upon the earth. The presentation of a child at the temple, or the "admittance of an infant into the Church," is one of the most tender, most beautiful, and most impressive services of my Mother Church--the Greek Orthodox.[2] It is held for every child born within that fold, in commemoration of the presentation of Jesus at the temple in Jerusalem. As Luke tells us (11:22), "And when the days of her purification according to the law of Moses were accomplished, they brought him to Jerusalem, to present him to the Lord." {38} The purification period "according to the law of Moses" is forty days.[3] Until this is "accomplished," the mother is not permitted to enter into the house of worship. As a general rule the baptismal service, which takes place any time between the eighth day and the fortieth day after birth, is held at the home. On the first Sabbath day after the "forty days," the mother carries the infant to the door of the church during mass, where the robed priest, who has been previously applied to for the sacred rite, meets the mother and receives the child in his arms. After making the sign of the cross with the child at the door, the priest says, "Now enters the servant of God [naming the child] into the Holy Church, in the name of the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Ghost. Amen." Then the priest walks into the church with the child, saying, in its behalf, "I will come into thy house in the multitude of thy mercy: and in thy fear will I worship toward thy holy temple."[4] As he {39} approaches the center of the church, he says again, "Now enters the servant of God," etc. Then standing in the center of the church, and surrounded by the reverently silent congregation, the priest says again, in behalf of the child, "In the midst of the congregation will I praise thee, O Lord."[5] Again, in front of the Royal Gate (the central door in the _anastasis_, or partition which screens the altar from the congregation) the priest says for the third time, "Now enters the servant of God," etc. After this the priest carries the infant through the north door, which is to the left of the Royal Gate, into the _mizbeh_, which corresponds to the "holy place" in the ancient temple. Here he walks around the _maideh_ (altar of sacrifice), makes the sign of the cross with the child, and walks out into the midst of the congregation, through the south door. In this position the priest utters as his final petition the words of the aged Simeon (Luke 11:29), "Lord, now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace, {40} according to thy word: for mine eyes have seen thy salvation, which thou hast prepared before the face of all people; a light to lighten the gentiles, and the glory of thy people Israel." Then he delivers the child back to its mother. Female children are presented in front of the Royal Gate, but are not admitted into the _mizbeh_. [1] Ps. xix: 1-2. [2] See the author's autobiography, _A Far Journey_, p. 4. [3] Lev. xii: 2-4. [4] Ps. v: 7. [5] Ps. xx: 22. {41} CHAPTER IV MYSTIC TONES I love to listen to the mystic tones of the Christmas carol. The story of the "star of Bethlehem" is the medium of transmission of those deeper strains which have come into the world through the soul of that ancient East. I love to mingle with the social joys of the Christmas season and its spirit of good-will, the mystic accents of the ancient seers who expressed in the rich narratives of the New Testament the deepest and dearest hopes of the soul. I leave most respectfully to the "Biblical critic" the task of assigning to the narrative of the Nativity its rightful place in the history of the New Testament. My deep interest in this story centers in those spiritual ideals it reveals, which have through the ages exercised such beneficent influences over the minds of men. And I believe that both as a Christian {42} and as an Oriental, I have a perfect right to be a mystic, after the wholesome New Testament fashion. In the second chapter of St. Luke's Gospel the story of the Nativity is presented in a most exquisite poetical form. The vision of humble shepherds, wise men, and angels, mingling together in the joy of a new divine revelation, could have been caught only by a deep-visioned spiritual artist. Had this fragment of religious literature been discovered in this year of 1916, its appearance would have marked a significant epoch in the history of religion. It is the expression of a sublime and passionate desire of the soul for divine companionship and for infinite peace. "And there were in the same country shepherds abiding in the field, keeping watch over their flocks by night. "And, lo, the angel of the Lord came upon them, and the glory of the Lord shone round about them: and they were sore afraid. "And the angel said unto them, Fear not; {43} for, behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people. "For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, which is Christ the Lord. "And this shall be a sign unto you; Ye shall find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger. "And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God, and saying, "Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men." When the angel delivered his message to the effect that God had visited his people in the person of the new-born Christ, then the humble, unlettered shepherds heard the heavenly song, which gave God the glory, and prophesied peace and good-will for all mankind. Could there be anything more profoundly and accurately interpretative of the deepest hopes of the human soul than this picture? Even the uncouth shepherds, being living souls, could realize that when the divine and the {44} human met heaven and earth became one, and peace and good-will prevailed among men. What encouragement, what hope this vision holds out even to the humblest among men! What assurance that heaven with all its treasures of peace and love is so near to our dust! "And the angel said unto them, Fear not: for, behold, I bring you glad tidings." The shepherds looked up to heaven through the eyes of all mankind. It was the upward look of a world-old hope. No soul ever looked up to heaven with different results. The divine response always is, "Fear not, for I bring you good tidings!" No soul ever needs to dwell in doubt and fear. No soul ever needs to be lonely and forlorn. Heaven has nothing for us but "good tidings of great joy." The higher powers are near at hand, and the soul of man may have invisible companions. Again we learn from this New Testament passage that in the visit of the shepherds and the Wise Men to the holy child both were equally blest. Both those who were steeped {45} in the wisdom of that ancient East and the simple-minded sons of the desert stood at the shrine of a holy personality as naked souls, divested of all artificial human distinctions. There were no "assigned" pews in that little shrine. All those who came into it by way of the heart received a blessing, and went away praising God. Here we have a foregleam of that longed-for kingdom of God--the home of all aspiring and seeking souls, regardless of rank and station. "There is no great and no small To the soul that maketh all: And where it cometh, all things are; And it cometh everywhere." The Christmas carol is dear to the human heart because it is a song of spiritual optimism. To pessimism the heavens are closed and silent; the world has no windows opening toward the Infinite. Pessimism cannot sing because it has no hope, and cannot pray because it has no faith. And I deem it essential at this point to ask, {46} Whither is the spirit of the present age leading us? Are we drifting away from the mount of vision? There seems to be but little room in this vast and complex life of ours for spiritual dreams and visions. The combination of our commercial activities and the never-ceasing whir of the wheels of our industries close up our senses to the intimate whisperings of the divine spirit. We see, but with the outward eye. We hear, but with the outward ear. Our inward senses are in grave danger of dying altogether from lack of exercise. The things of this life are too much with us, and they render us oblivious to the gracious beckonings of the higher world. Let not the lesser interests of this life close our hearing to the angel-song which never dies upon the air. The star of hope never sets, and God's revelations are from everlasting to everlasting. {47} CHAPTER V FILIAL OBEDIENCE Of Jesus' life between the period spoken of in the narrative of the Nativity and the time when he appeared on the banks of the Jordan, seeking to be baptized by John, the New Testament says nothing. One single incident only is mentioned. When twelve years old, the boy Jesus went with his parents on a pilgrimage to Jerusalem. Annual pilgrimages to the great shrines are still very common in Syria. The Mohammedans go to Mecca, the Christians and the Jews to Jerusalem. But there are many other and more accessible sanctuaries which are frequented by the faithful in all those communions. However, a visit to any other sanctuary than Jerusalem and Mecca is called _zeara_, rather than a pilgrimage.[1] The simple record of Jesus' pilgrimage to Jerusalem with his parents is that of a typical {48} experience. In writing about it I seem to myself to be giving a personal reminiscence. In the second chapter of the Gospel of Luke, the forty-first verse, it is said: "Now his parents went to Jerusalem every year at the feast of the passover. And when he was twelve years old, they went up to Jerusalem after the custom of the feast. And when they had fulfilled the days, as they returned, the child Jesus tarried behind in Jerusalem; and Joseph and his mother knew not of it. But they, supposing him to have been in the company, went a day's journey; and they sought him among their kinsfolk and acquaintance. And when they found him not, they turned back again to Jerusalem, seeking him." In Syria male children are taken on a pilgrimage or _zeara_, and thus permitted to receive the blessing, which this pious act is supposed to bring upon them, as soon as they are able to make the journey. Full maturity is no essential condition. I went with my parents on two _zearas_ before I was fifteen. At the {49} present time there is no definite rule, at least among Christians, as to how many days should be spent at a sanctuary. Pilgrims usually "vow" to stay a certain number of days. In ancient Judaism, "the feast of the passover" occupied eight days, and it was that number of days which Mary and Joseph "fulfilled." According to Luke, on their return journey to Nazareth Jesus' parents went a day's journey before they discovered that he was not with them. This phase of the story seems to have greatly puzzled the good old commentator, Adam Clarke. "Knowing what a treasure they possessed," he observes, "how could they be so long without looking on it? Where were the bowels and tender solicitude of the mother? Let them answer this question who can." Clarke did not need to be so perplexed or so mystified. For one who knows the customs of the Syrians while on religious pilgrimages knows also that the experience of the "holy family" was not at all a strange one. The whole mystery is cleared up in the saying, {50} "And they sought him among their kinsfolk and acquaintance." Kinsfolk and acquaintances travel in large groups, and the young pilgrims, such as the twelve-year-old Jesus, are considered safe so long as they keep in close touch with the company. On such journeys, parents may not see their sons for hours at a time. The homogeneous character of the group, and the sense of security which faith gives, especially at such times, present no occasion for anxiety concerning the dear ones. The saying of Luke that Joseph and Mary "went a day's journey" before they discovered that Jesus was not in the company must, it seems to me, include also the time consumed in their return journey to Jerusalem to seek their son. Perhaps they discovered his absence about noontime when the company halted by a spring of water to partake of the _zad_ (food for the way). At such a time families gather together to break bread. And what I feel certain of also is that the boy Jesus must have been with his parents when they first {51} set out on their homeward journey early in the morning from Jerusalem, and that he detached himself from his kinsfolk and returned to the holy city shortly after the company had left that place. No Syrian family ever would start out on a journey before every one of its members had been accounted for. The evangelist's omission of these details is easily understood. His purpose was not to give a photographic account of all that happened on the way. It was rather to reveal the lofty spiritual ideals which led the boy Jesus to return to the temple, where he was found by his anxious parents "sitting in the midst of the doctors, both hearing them, and asking them questions." In this brief but significant record of all the filial graces which Jesus must have possessed one only is mentioned in the second chapter of the Gospel of Luke, where it is stated that he went down to Nazareth with his parents "and was subject unto them." This seemingly casual remark is full of {52} significance. With us in Syria, _ta'at-el-walideen_ (obedience to parents) has always been youth's crowning virtue. Individual initiative must not overstep the boundary line of this grace. Only in this way the patriarchal organization of the family can be kept intact. In my boyhood days in that romantic country, whenever my father took me with him on a "visit of homage" to one of the lords of the land, the most fitting thing such a dignitary could do to me was to place his hand upon my head and say with characteristic condescension, "Bright boy, and no doubt obedient to your parents." As regards the grace of filial obedience, I am not aware of a definite break between the East and the West. But there is a vital difference. To an Oriental who has just come to this country, the American youth seem to be indifferent to filial obedience. The strong passion for freedom, the individualistic sense which is a pronounced characteristic of the aggressive Anglo-Saxon, and the economic stress {53} which ever tends to scatter the family group, and which the East has never experienced so painfully as the West has, all convey the impression that parental love and filial obedience are fast disappearing from American society. But to those of us sons of the East who have intimate knowledge of the American family, its cohesion does not seem to be so alarmingly weak. The mad rush for "business success" is indeed a menace to the American home, but love and obedience are still vital forces in that home. The terms "father," "mother," "brother," and "sister," have by no means lost their spiritual charms in American society. The deep affection in which the members of the better American family hold one another and the exquisite regard they have for one another command profound respect. But the vital difference between the East and the West is that to Easterners filial obedience is more than a social grace and an evidence of natural affection. It is a _religious_ duty of far-reaching significance. God commands {54} it. "Thou shalt honor thy father and thy mother" is a divine command. The "displeasure" of a parent is as much to be feared as the wrath of God. This sense permeates Syrian society from the highest to the lowest of its ranks. The explanation of the origin of sin in the third chapter of Genesis touches the very heart of this matter. The writer ascribes the "fall of man," not to any act which was in itself really harmful, but to disobedience. Adam was commanded by his divine parent not to eat of the "tree of knowledge of good and evil"; but he did eat, and consequently became a stranger to the blessings of his original home. This idea of filial obedience has been at once the strength and weakness of Orientals. In the absence of the restraining interests of a larger social life this patriarchal rule has preserved the cohesion of the domestic and clannish group, and thus safeguarded for the people their primitive virtues. On the other hand, it has served to extinguish the spirit of {55} progress, and has thus made Oriental life a monotonous repetition of antiquated modes of thought. And it was indeed a great blessing to the world when Jesus broke away from mere formal obedience to parents, in the Oriental sense of the word, and declared, "Whosoever shall do the will of my Father in heaven, the same is my brother, and sister, and mother." [1] See above, p. 14. {56} CHAPTER VI FEAST AND SACRAMENT Of Jesus' public ministry and his characteristics as an Oriental teacher, I shall speak in later chapters. Here I will give space only to a portrayal of the closing scenes in his personal career. The events of the "upper room" on Mount Zion, and of Gethsemane, are faithful photographs of striking characteristics of Syrian life. The Last Supper was no isolated event in Syrian history. Its fraternal atmosphere, intimate associations, and sentimental intercourse are such as characterize every such gathering of Syrian friends, especially in the shadow of an approaching danger. From the simple "table manners" up to that touch of sadness and idealism which the Master gave that meal,--bestowing upon it the sacrificial character that has been its propelling force through the ages,--I find nothing which is {57} not in perfect harmony with what takes place on such occasions in my native land. The sacredness of the Last Supper is one of the emphatic examples of how Jesus' life and words sanctified the commonest things of life. He was no inventor of new things, but a discoverer of the spiritual significance of things known to men to be ordinary. The informal formalities of Oriental life are brimful of sentiment. The Oriental's chief concern in matters of conduct is not the correctness of the technique, but the cordiality of the deed. To the Anglo-Saxon the Oriental appears to be perhaps too cordial, decidedly sentimental, and over-responsive to the social stimulus. To the Oriental, on the other hand, the Anglo-Saxon seems in danger of becoming an unemotional intellectualist. Be that as it may, the Oriental is never afraid to "let himself go" and to give free course to his feelings. The Bible in general and such portions of it as the story of the Last Supper in particular illustrate this phase of Oriental life. {58} In Syria, as a general rule, the men eat their fraternal feasts alone, as in the case of the Master and his disciples at the Last Supper, when, so far as the record goes, none of the women followers of Christ were present. They sit on the floor in something like a circle, and eat out of one or a few large, deep dishes. The food is lifted into the mouth, not with a fork or spoon,--except in the case of liquid food,--but with small "shreds" of thin bread. Even liquid food is sometimes "dipped up" with pieces of bread formed like the bowl of a spoon. Here may be readily understood Jesus' saying, "He that dippeth his hand with me in the dish, the same shall betray me."[1] In his famous painting, The Last Supper, Leonardo da Vinci presents an Oriental event in an Occidental form. The high table, the chairs, the individual plates and drinking-glasses are European rather than Syrian appointments. From a historical standpoint, the picture is misleading. But Da Vinci's great {59} production was not intended to be a historical, but a character, study. Such a task could not have been accomplished if the artist had presented the Master and his disciples as they really sat in the "upper room"--in a circle. He seats them on one side of the table, divides them into four groups of three each--two groups on each side of the Master. As we view the great painting, we feel the thrill of horror which agitated the loyal disciples when Jesus declared, "Verily, I say unto you, that one of you shall betray me."[2] The gestures, the sudden change of position, and the facial expression reveal the innermost soul of each disciple. This is the central purpose of the picture. The artist gave the event a European rather than an Oriental setting, in order to make it more intelligible to the people for whom it was intended. But the appointments of the Great Supper were genuinely Oriental. The Master and his disciples sat on the floor and ate out of one or {60} a few large, deep dishes. In Mark's account of that event[3] we read: "And when it was evening he cometh with the twelve. And as they sat and were eating, Jesus said, Verily I say unto you, One of you shall betray me, even he that _eateth_ with me." The fact that they were _all_ eating with him is shown in the statement, "They began to be sorrowful, and to say unto him, Is it I? And he said unto them, It is one of the twelve, he that dippeth with me in the dish." The last sentence, "He that dippeth with me in the dish," has been construed to mean that it was Judas only (who was sitting near to Jesus) who was dipping in the dish out of which the Master was eating. This is altogether possible, but by no means certain. The fact is that according to Syrian customs on such occasions each of the few large dishes contains a different kind of food. Each one of the guests is privileged to reach to any one of the dishes and dip his bread in it. From this it may be {61} safely inferred that several or all of the disciples dipped _in turn_ in the dish which was nearest to Jesus. The fact that the other disciples did not know whom their Master meant by his saying that one of them should betray him, even after he had said, "He that dippeth with me in the dish," shows plainly that Judas was eating in the same fashion as all the other disciples were. Therefore the saying, "He that dippeth with me," etc., was that of disappointed love. It may be thus paraphrased: "I have loved you all alike. I have chosen you as my dearest friends. We have often broken bread and sorrowed and rejoiced together, yet one of you, my dear disciples, one who is now eating with me _as the rest are_, intends to betray me!" And that forlorn but glorious company who met in the upper room on Mount Zion on that historic night had certainly one cup out of which they drank. At our feasts we always drank the wine out of one and the same cup. We did not stay up nights thinking about {62} microbes. To us the one cup meant fellowship and fraternal communion. The one who gives drink (_sacky_) fills the cup and passes it to the most honored member of the company first. He drinks the contents and returns the cup to the _sacky_, who fills it again and hands it to another member of the group, and so on, until all have been served once. Then the guests drink again by way of _nezel_. It is not easy to translate this word into English. The English word "treating" falls very short of expressing the affectionate regard which the _nezel_ signifies. The one guest upon receiving the cup wishes for the whole company "health, happiness, and length of days." Then he singles out one of the group and begs him to accept the next cup that is poured as a pledge of his affectionate regard. The pourer complies with the request by handing the next cup to the person thus designated, who drinks it with the most effusive and affectionate reciprocation of his friend's sentiments. It is also customary for a gracious host to request as a {63} happy ending to the feast that the contents of one cup be drunk by the whole company as a seal of their friendship with one another. Each guest takes a sip and passes the cup to the one next to him until all have partaken of the "fruit of the vine." I have no doubt that it was after this custom that the disciples drank when Jesus "took the cup, and when he had given thanks, he gave to them: and they _all_ drank of it."[4] No account of fraternal feasting in Syria can be complete without mention of the _z[i-breve]kreh_ (remembrance). To be remembered by his friends after his departure from them is one of the Syrian's deepest and dearest desires. The _z[i-breve]kreh_ plays a very important part in the literature of the East, and expresses the tenderest spirit of its poetry. The expressions "I remember," "remember me," "your remembrance," "the remembrance of those days" and like phrases are legion among the Syrians. "O friends," cries the Arabian poet, {64} "let your remembrance of us be as constant as our remembrance of you; for such a remembrance brings near those that are far away." Rarely do friends who have been feasting together part without this request being made by those of them who do not expect to meet with their friends again for a time. "Remember me when you meet again," is said by the departing friend with unspeakable tenderness. He is affectionately grateful also when he knows that he is held in remembrance by his friends. So St. Paul pours out his soul in grateful joy for his friends' remembrance of him. "But now when Timotheus came from you unto us, and brought us good tidings of your faith and charity, and that _ye have good remembrance of us always, desiring greatly to see us, as we also to see you_."[5] This affectionate request, "remember me," signifies, "I love you, therefore I am always with you." If we love one another, we cannot {65} be separated from one another. The _z[)i]ikreh_ is the bond of fraternity between us. Was not this the very thing which the Master meant when he said, "This do in remembrance of me"?[6] The disciples were asked never to allow themselves to forget their Master's love for them and for the world: never to forget that if his love lived in their hearts he was always with them, present at their feasts, and in their struggles in the world to lead the world from darkness into light. "This do in remembrance of me," is therefore the equivalent of "Lo, I am with you alway, even unto the end of the world."[7] "Now there was leaning on Jesus' bosom one of his disciples, whom Jesus loved."[8] The posture of the "beloved disciple," John,--so objectionable to Occidental taste,--is in perfect harmony with Syrian customs. How often have I seen men friends in such an attitude. There is not in it the slightest infringement of the rules of propriety; the act was as natural {66} to us all as shaking hands. The practice is especially indulged in when intimate friends are about to part from one another, as on the eve of a journey, or when about to face a dangerous undertaking. They then sit with their heads leaning against each other, or the one's head resting upon the other's shoulder or breast. They talk to one another in terms of unbounded intimacy and unrestrained affection. The expressions, "My brother," "My eyes," "My soul," "My heart," and the like, form the life-centers of the conversation. "My life, my blood are for you; take the very sight of my eyes, if you will!" And lookers-on say admiringly, "Behold, how they love one another! By the name of the Most High, they are closer than brothers." Was it, therefore, strange that the Master, who knew the deepest secret of the divine life, and whose whole life was a living sacrifice, should say to his intimate friends, as he handed them the bread and the cup on that {67} momentous night, "Take, eat; this is my body"; and "Drink ye all of it; for this is my blood"? Here again the Nazarene charged the ordinary words of friendly intercourse with rare spiritual richness and made the common speech of his people express eternal realities. But let me here call attention to Da Vinci's master-stroke which changes for a moment John's posture and relieves the Last Supper of a feature which is so objectionable to Occidental taste. The artist seizes the moment when Peter pulled John from Jesus' breast by beckoning to the beloved disciple "that he should ask who it should be of whom he spoke" (the one who should betray him). John remains in the attitude of loving repose; he simply lifts his body for an instant, and inclines his head to hear Peter. The treachery of Judas is no more an Oriental than it is a human weakness. Traitors can claim neither racial nor national refuge. They are fugitives in the earth. But in the Judas episode is involved one of the most tender, {68} most touching acts of Jesus' whole life. To one familiar with the customs of the East, Jesus' handing the "sop" to his betrayer was an act of surpassing beauty and significance. In all my life in America I have not heard a preacher interpret this simple deed, probably because of lack of knowledge of its meaning in Syrian social intercourse. "And when he had dipped the sop, he gave it to Judas Iscariot, the son of Simon."[9] At Syrian feasts, especially in the region where Jesus lived, such sops are handed to those who stand and serve the guests with wine and water. But in a more significant manner those morsels are exchanged by friends. Choice bits of food are handed to friends by one another, as signs of close intimacy. It is never expected that any person would hand such a sop to one for whom he cherishes no friendship. I can never contemplate this act in the Master's story without thinking of "the love of Christ which passeth knowledge." To the one {69} who carried in his mind and heart a murderous plot against the loving Master, Jesus handed the sop of friendship, the morsel which is never offered to an enemy. The rendering of the act in words is this: "Judas, my disciple, I have infinite pity for you. You have proved false, you have forsaken me in your heart; but I will not treat you as an enemy, for I have come, not to destroy, but to fulfill. Here is my sop of friendship, and 'that thou doest, do quickly.'" Apparently Jesus' demeanor was so cordial and sympathetic that, as the evangelist tells us, "Now no man at the table knew for what intent he spake this unto him. For some of them thought, because Judas had the bag, that Jesus had said unto him, Buy those things that we have need of against the feast, or that he should give something to the poor."[10] Thus in this simple act of the Master, so rarely noticed by preachers, we have perhaps the finest practical example of "Love your enemies" in the entire Gospel. {70} Is it therefore to be wondered at that in speaking of Judas, the writer of St. John's Gospel says, "And after the sop Satan entered into him"? For, how can one who is a traitor at heart reach for the gift of true friendship without being transformed into the very spirit of treason? Again, Judas's treasonable kiss in Gethsemane was a perversion of an ancient, deeply cherished, and universally prevalent Syrian custom. In saluting one another, especially after having been separated for a time, men friends of the same social rank kiss one another on both cheeks, sometimes with very noisy profusion. When they are not of the same social rank, the inferior kisses the hand of the superior, while the latter at least pretends to kiss his dutiful friend upon the cheek. So David and Jonathan "kissed one another, until David exceeded." Paul's command, "Salute one another with a holy kiss," so scrupulously disobeyed by Occidental Christians, is characteristically Oriental. As a child I always felt {71} a profound reverential admiration for that unreserved outpouring of primitive affections, when strong men "fell upon one another's neck" and kissed, while the women's eyes swam in tears of joy. The passionate, quick, and rhythmic exchange of affectionate words of salutation and kisses sounded, with perhaps a little less harmony, like an intermingling of vocal and instrumental music. So Judas, when "forthwith he came to Jesus, and said, Hail, Master, and kissed him,"[11] invented no new sign by which to point Jesus out to the Roman soldiers, but employed an old custom for the consummation of an evil design. Just as Jesus glorified the common customs of his people by using them as instruments of love, so Judas degraded those very customs by wielding them as weapons of hate. [1] Matt. xxvi: 23. [2] Matt. xxvi: 21. [3] Revised Version, xiv: 17-20. [4] Mark xiv: 23. [5] 1 Thess. iii: 6. [6] Luke xxii: 19. [7] Matt. xxviii: 10. [8] John xiii: 23. [9] John xiii: 26. [10] John xiii: 28, 29. [11] Matt. xxvi: 49. {72} CHAPTER VII THE LAST SCENE Perhaps nowhere else in the New Testament do the fundamental traits of the Oriental nature find so clear an expression as in this closing scene of the Master's life. The Oriental's _dependence_, to which the world owes the loftiest and tenderest Scriptural passages, finds here its most glorious manifestations. As I have already intimated, the Oriental is never afraid to "let himself go," whether in joy or sorrow, and to give vent to his emotions. It is of the nature of the Anglo-Saxon to suffer in silence, and to kill when he must, with hardly a word of complaint upon his lips or a ripple of excitement on his face. He disdains asking for sympathy. His severely individualistic tendencies and spirit of endurance convince him that he is "able to take care of himself." During my early years in this country the reserve of Americans in times of sorrow {73} and danger, as well as in times of joy, was to me not only amazing, but appalling. Not being as yet aware of their inward fire and intensity of feeling, held in check by a strong bulwark of calm calculation, as an unreconstructed Syrian I felt prone to doubt whether they had any emotions to speak of. It is not my purpose here to undertake a comparative critical study of these opposing traits, but to state that, for good or evil, the Oriental is preëminently a man who craves sympathy, yearns openly and noisily for companionship, and seeks help and support outside himself. Whatever disadvantages this trait may involve, it has been the one supreme qualification that has made the Oriental the religious teacher of the whole world. It was his childlike dependence on God that gave birth to the twenty-third and fifty-first Psalms, and made the Lord's Prayer the universal petition of Christendom. It was also this dependence on companionship, human and divine, which inspired the great commandments, {74} "Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and thy neighbor as thyself." Now it is in the light of this fundamental Oriental trait that we must view Christ's utterances at the Last Supper and in Gethsemane. The record tells us that while at the Supper he said to his disciples, "With desire I have desired to eat this passover with you before I suffer,"[1]--or, as the marginal note has it, "I have heartily desired," and so forth, which brings it nearer the original text. Again, "He was troubled in spirit, and testified and said, Verily, verily, I say unto you, that one of you shall betray me." "This is my body ... This is my blood ... Do this in remembrance of me." We must seek the proper setting for these utterances, not merely in the upper room in Zion, but in the deepest tendencies of the Oriental mind. And the climax is reached in the dark hour of Gethsemane, in the hour of intense suffering, imploring need, and ultimate triumph in {75} Jesus' surrender to the Father's will. How true to that demonstrative Oriental nature is the Scriptural record, "And being in an agony he prayed more earnestly: and his sweat was as it were great drops of blood falling down to the ground."[2] The faithful and touching realism of the record here is an example of the childlike responsiveness of the Syrian nature to feelings of sorrow, no less striking than the experience itself. It seems to me that if an Anglo-Saxon teacher in similar circumstances had ever allowed himself to agonize and to sweat "as it were great drops of blood," his chronicler in describing the scene would have safeguarded the dignity of his race by simply saying that the distressed teacher was "visibly affected"! The darkness deepened and the Master "took with him Peter and the two sons of Zebedee, and began to be sorrowful and very heavy. Then saith he unto them, My soul is exceeding sorrowful, even unto death; tarry {76} ye here, and watch with me."[3] Three times did the Great Teacher utter that matchless prayer, whose spirit of fear as well as of trust vindicates the doctrine of the humanity of God and the divinity of man as exemplified in the person of Christ: "O my Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me: nevertheless not as I will, but as thou wilt!"[4] The sharp contrast between the Semitic and the Anglo-Saxon temperament has led some unfriendly critics of Christ to state very complacently and confidently that he "simply broke down when the critical hour came." In this assertion I find a very pronounced misapprehension of the facts. If my knowledge of the traits of my own race is to be relied on, then in trying to meet this assertion I feel that I am entitled to the consideration of one who speaks with something resembling authority. The simple fact is that while in Gethsemane, as indeed everywhere else throughout his ministry, Jesus was not in the position of one {77} trying to "play the hero." His companions were his intimate earthly friends and his gracious heavenly Father, and to them he spoke as an Oriental would speak to those dear to him,--_just as he felt_, with not a shadow of show or sham. His words were not those of weakness and despair, but of confidence and affection. The love of his friends and the love of his Father in heaven were his to draw upon in his hour of trial, with not the slightest artificial reserve. How much better and happier this world would be if we all dealt with one another and with God in the warm, simple, and pure love of Christ! As the life and words of Christ amply testify, the vision of the Oriental has been to teach mankind not science, logic, or jurisprudence, but a simple, loving, childlike faith in God. Therefore, before we can fully know our Master as the cosmopolitan Christ, we must first know him as the Syrian Christ. [1] Luke xxii: 15. [2] Luke xxii: 44. [3] Matt. xxvi: 37-38. [4] _Ibid._ 39. {81} PART II THE ORIENTAL MANNER OF SPEECH CHAPTER I DAILY LANGUAGE The Oriental I have in mind is the Semite, the dweller of the Near East, who, chiefly through the Bible, has exerted an immense influence on the life and literature of the West. The son of the Near East is more emotional, more intense, and more communicative than his Far-Eastern neighbors. Although very old in point of time, his temperament remains somewhat juvenile, and his manner of speech intimate and unreserved. From the remote past, even to this day, the Oriental's manner of speech has been that of a worshipper, and not that of a business man or an industrial worker in the modern Western sense. To the Syrian of to-day, as to his ancient ancestors, life, with all its activities and cares, revolves around a religious center. Of course this does not mean that his religion {82} has not always been beset with clannish limitations and clouded by superstitions, or that the Oriental has always had a clear, active consciousness of the sanctity of human life. But it does mean that this man, serene or wrathful, at work or at play, praying or swearing, has never failed to believe that he is overshadowed by the All-seeing God. He has never ceased to cry: "O Lord, Thou hast searched me, and known me. Thou knowest my downsitting and mine uprising; Thou understandest my thought afar off. Thou hast beset me behind and before, and laid thine hand upon me. Such knowledge is too wonderful for me; it is high, I cannot attain unto it!"[1] And it is one of the grandest, most significant facts in human history that, notwithstanding his intellectual limitations and superstitious fears, because he has maintained the altar of God as life's center of gravity, and never let die the consciousness that he was compassed about by the living God, the Oriental {83} has been the channel of the sublimest spiritual revelation in the possession of man. The histories of races are the records of their desires and rewards, of their seeking and finding. The law of compensation is all-embracing. In the long run "whatsoever a man soweth, that shall he also reap."[2] "He which soweth sparingly shall reap also sparingly; and he which soweth bountifully shall reap also bountifully."[3] In the material world the Oriental has sown but sparingly, and his harvests here have also been very meager. He has not achieved much in the world of science, industry, and commerce. As an industrial worker he has remained throughout his long history a user of hand tools. Previous to his very recent contact with the West, he never knew what structural iron and machinery were. As a merchant he has always been a simple trader. He has never been a man of many inventions. His faithful repetition of the past has left no gulf between him and his remote ancestors. {84} The implements and tools he uses to-day are like those his forefathers used in their day. The supreme choice of the Oriental has been religion. To say that this choice has not been altogether a conscious one, that it has been the outcome of temperament, does by no means lessen its significance. From the beginning of his history on the earth to this day the Oriental has been conscious above all things of two supreme realities--God and the soul. What has always seemed to him to be his first and almost only duty was and is to form the most direct, most intimate connection between God and the soul. "The fear of the Lord," meaning most affectionate reverence, is to the son of the East not "the beginning of wisdom" as the English Bible has it, but the _height_ or _acme_ of wisdom. His first concern about his children is that they should know themselves as living souls, and God as their Creator and Father. An unbeliever in God has always been to the East a strange phenomenon. I never heard of atheism or of an atheist before {85} I came in touch with Western culture in my native land. My many years of intimate and sympathetic contact with the more varied, more intelligent life of the West has not tended in the least to lessen my reverence for religion nor to lower my regard for culture. Culture gives strength and symmetry to religious thought, and religion gives life and beauty to culture. And just as I believe that men should pray without ceasing, so also do I believe that they should strive to make their religious faith ever more free and more intelligent. Yet the history of the Orient compels me to believe that the soil out of which scriptures spring is that whose life is the active sympathy of religion, regardless of the degree of acquired knowledge. When the depths of human nature are thoroughly saturated with this sympathy, then it is prepared both to receive and to give those thoughts of which scriptures are made. Industry and commerce have their good uses. But an industrial and {86} commercialistic atmosphere is not conducive to the production of sacred books. Where the chief interests of life center in external things, religion is bound to become only one and perhaps a minor concern in life. The Oriental has always lived in a world of spiritual mysteries. Fearful or confident, superstitious or rational, to him God has been all and in all. "The judgments of the Lord are true and righteous altogether. In keeping of them there is great reward."[4] The son of the East has been richly rewarded. He is the religious teacher of all mankind. Through him all scriptures have come into being. All the great, living religions of the world originated in Asia; and the three greatest of them--Judaism, Christianity, and Mohammedanism--have come into the world through the Semitic race in that little country called Syria. The perpetual yearning of the Oriental for spiritual dreams and visions has had its rewards. He sowed bountifully, he reaped bountifully. {87} Note the Syrian's daily language: it is essentially Biblical. He has no _secular_ language. The only real break between his scriptures and the vocabulary of his daily life is that which exists between the classical and the vernacular. When you ask a Syrian about his business he will not answer, "We are doing well at present," but "_Allah mûn 'aim_" (God is giving bounteously). To one starting on a journey the phrase is not "Take good care of yourself," but "Go, in the keeping and protection of God." By example and precept we were trained from infancy in this manner of speech. Coming into a house, the visitor salutes by saying, "God grant you good morning," or "The peace of God come upon you." So it is written in the tenth chapter of Matthew, "And as ye enter into the house, salute it. And if the house be worthy, let your peace come upon it; but if it be not worthy, let your peace return unto you." In saluting a day laborer at work we said, "_Allah, yaatik-el-afie_" (God give you health {88} and strength). In saluting reapers in the field, or "gatherers of the increase" in the vineyards or olive groves, we said just the words of Boaz, in the second chapter of the Book of Ruth, when he "came from Bethlehem and said unto the reapers, The Lord be with you. And they answered him, The Lord bless thee." Or another Scriptural expression, now more extensively used on such occasions, "The blessing of the Lord be upon you!" It is to this custom that the withering imprecation which is recorded in the one hundred and twenty-ninth Psalm refers: "Let them all be confounded and turned back that hate Zion: let them be as the grass upon the housetops which withereth afore it groweth up: wherewith the mower filleth not his hand, nor he that bindeth sheaves his bosom. Neither do they which go by say, The blessing of the Lord be upon you: we bless you in the name of the Lord." In asking a shepherd about his flock we said, "How are the blessed ones?" or a parent about his children, "How are the preserved ones?" {89} They are preserved of God through their "angels," of whom the Master spoke when he said, "Take heed that ye despise not one of these little ones; for I say unto you that in heaven their angels do always behold the face of my Father."[5] Speaking of a good man we said, "The grace of God is poured upon his face." So in the Book of Proverbs,[6] "Blessings are upon the head of the just." Akin to the foregoing are such expressions as these. In trying to rise from a sitting posture (the Syrians sit on the floor with their legs folded under them), a person, using the right arm for leverage, says, as he springs up, "Ya _Allah_" (O God [help]). In inquiring about the nature of an object, he says, "_Sho dinû_?" (what is its religion?) And one of the queerest expressions, when translated into English, is that employed to indicate that a kettleful of water, for example, has boiled beyond the required degree: "This water has turned to be an infidel" (_kaffer_). It may be noticed here {90} that it is not the old theology only which associates the infidel with intense heat. So this religious language is the Oriental's daily speech. I have stated in my autobiography that the men my father employed in his building operations were grouped according to their faith. He had so many Druses, so many Greek Orthodox, Maronites, and so forth. The almost total abstinence from using "pious" language in ordinary business and social intercourse in America may be considered commendable in some ways, but I consider it a surrender of the soul to the body, a subordination of the spirit of the things which are eternal to the spirit of the things which are temporal. In my judgment, the superior culture of the West, instead of limiting the vocabulary of religion to the one hour of formal worship on Sunday, and scrupulously shunning it during the remainder of the week, should make its use, on a much higher plane than the Orient has yet discovered, coextensive with all the activities of life. [1] Ps. cxxxix: 1-6. [2] Gal. vi: 7. [3] 2 Cor. ix: 6. [4] Ps. xix: 9, 11. [5] Matt. xviii: 10. [6] x: 6. {91} CHAPTER II IMPRECATIONS Again, the Oriental's consideration of life as being essentially religious makes him as pious in his imprecations and curses as he is in his aspirational prayer. Beyond all human intrigue, passion, and force, the great avenger is God. "Vengeance is mine, I will repay, saith the Lord."[1] "See now that I, even I, am he, and there is no God with me: I kill and I make alive; I wound and I heal; neither is there any that can deliver out of my hand."[2] By priests and parents these precepts have been transmitted from generation to generation in the Orient, from time immemorial. We all were instructed in them by our elders with scrupulous care. Of course as weak mortals we always tried to avenge ourselves, and the idea of _thar_ (revenge) lies deep in the Oriental nature. But to us our vengeance was nothing {92} compared with what God did to our "ungodly" enemies and oppressors. The Oriental's impetuosity and effusiveness make his imprecatory prayers, especially to the "unaccustomed ears" of Americans, blood-curdling. And I confess that on my last visit to Syria, my countrymen's (and especially my countrywomen's) bursts of pious wrath jarred heavily upon me. In his oral bombardment of his enemy the Oriental hurls such missiles as, "May God burn the bones of your fathers"; "May God exterminate your seed from the earth"; "May God cut off your supply of bread (_yakta rizkak_)"; "May you have nothing but the ground for a bed and the sky for covering"; "May your children be orphaned and your wife widowed"; and similar expressions. Does not this sound exactly like the one hundred and ninth Psalm? Speaking of his enemy, the writer of that psalm says, "Let his days be few, and let another take his office. Let his children be fatherless, and his wife a widow. Let his children be continually {93} vagabonds, and beg; let them seek their bread also out of their desolate places. Let there be none to extend mercy unto him; neither let there be any to favor his fatherless children. Let his posterity be cut off; and in the generation following let their name be blotted out." The sad fact is that the Oriental has always considered his personal enemies to be the enemies of God also, and as such their end was destruction. Such sentiments mar the beauty of many of the Psalms. The enemies of the Israelites were considered the enemies of the God of Israel, and the enemies of a Syrian family are also the enemies of the patron saint of that family. In that most wonderful Scriptural passage--the one hundred and thirty-ninth Psalm--the singer cries, "Surely thou wilt slay the wicked, O God: depart from me, ye bloody men. For they speak against thee wickedly, and thine enemies take thy name in vain. Do not I hate them, O Lord, that hate thee? and am I not grieved with those that rise against thee? _I hate them with perfect hatred: {94} I count them mine enemies._" Yet this ardent hater of his enemies most innocently turns to God and says in the next verse: "Search me, O God, and know my heart: try me and know my thoughts: _and see if there be any wicked way in me_, and lead me in the way everlasting." This mixture of piety and hatred, uttered so naïvely and in good faith, is characteristically Syrian. Such were the mutual wishes I so often heard expressed in our neighborhood and clan fights and quarrels in Syria. When so praying, the persons would beat upon their breasts and uncover their heads, as signs of the total surrender of their cause to an avenging Omnipotence. Of course the Syrians are not so cruel and heartless as such imprecations, especially when cast in cold type, would lead one to believe. I am certain that if the little children of his enemy should become fatherless, the imprecator himself would be among the first to "favor" them. If you will keep in mind the juvenile temperament of the Oriental, already mentioned, and his habit of turning to {95} God in all circumstances, as unreservedly as a child turns to his father, your judgment of the son of Palestine will be greatly tempered with mercy. The one redeeming feature in these imprecatory petitions is that they have always served the Oriental as a safety-valve. Much of his wrath is vented in this manner. He is much more cruel in his words than in his deeds. As a rule the Orientals quarrel much, but fight little. By the time two antagonists have cursed and reviled each other so profusely they cool off, and thus graver consequences are averted. The Anglo-Saxon has outgrown such habits. In the first place the highly complex social order in which he lives calls for much more effective methods for the settling of disputes, and, in the second place, he has no time to waste on mere words. And just as the Anglo-Saxon smiles at the wordy fights of the Oriental, the Oriental shudders at the swiftness of the Anglo-Saxon in using his fists and his pistol. Both are needy of the grace of God. [1] Rom. xii: 19. [2] Deut. xxxii: 39. {96} CHAPTER III LOVE OF ENEMIES The preceding chapter makes it very clear why Jesus opened the more profound depths of the spiritual life to his much-divided and almost hopelessly clannish countrymen, by commanding them to love their enemies. He who taught "as one having authority, and not as the scribes," knew the possibilities and powers of divine love as no man did. It is in such immortal precepts that we perceive his superiority to his time and people and the divinity of his character. His knowledge of the Father was so intimate and his repose in the Father's love so perfect that he could justly say, "I and my father are one." "Ye have heard," he said to his followers, "that it hath been said, Thou shalt love thy neighbor [in the original, _quarib_--kinsman] and hate thine enemy: but I say unto you, love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do {97} good to them that hate you, and pray for them which despitefully use you and persecute you; that ye may be the children of your father which is in heaven."[1] Here we have the very heart and soul of the Gospel, and the dynamic power of Jesus' ministry of reconciliation. Yet to many devout Christians, as well as to unfriendly critics of the New Testament, the command, "Love your enemies," offers a serious perplexity. An "independent" preacher in a large Western city, after reading this portion of the Sermon on the Mount to his congregation, stated that Jesus' great discourse should be called, "The Sarcasm on the Mount." Is not love of enemies beyond the power of human nature? This question is pertinent. And it is an obvious fact that we cannot love by command; we cannot love to order. This mysterious flow of soul which we call love is not of our own making; therefore we cannot _will_ to love. Such a discussion, however, falls outside the scope {98} of this publication. What I wish to offer here is a linguistic explanation which I believe will throw some light on this great commandment. The word "love" has been more highly specialized in the West than in the East. In its proper English use it means only that ardent, amorous feeling which cannot be created by will and design. In the West the word "love" has been relieved of the function of expressing the less ardent desires such as the terms "to like," "to have good-will toward," and "to be well-disposed toward" imply. Not so in the East. The word "like," meaning "to be favorably inclined toward," is not found either in the Bible or in the Arabic tongue. In the English version it is used in two places, but the translation is incorrect. In the twenty-fifth chapter of Deuteronomy the seventh verse, "If the man like not to take his brother's wife," should be rendered, "If the man _consent_ not"; and in the fourth chapter of Amos, the fifth verse, "For this liketh you, O ye children of Israel," is in the original, "For this ye {99} _loved_, O ye children of Israel." In any standard concordance of the Bible, the Hebrew verb _Aheb_ (to love) precedes these quotations. So to us Orientals the only word which can express any cordial inclination of approval is "love." One loves his wife and children, and loves grapes and figs and meat, if he likes these things. An employer says to an employee, "If you _love_ to work for me according to this agreement, you can." It is nothing uncommon for one to say to a casual acquaintance whom he likes, "I must say, _Sahib_ [friend], that I love you!" I know of no equivalent in the Arabic for the phrase, "I am interested in you." "Love" and "hate" are the usual terms by which to express approval and disapproval, as well as real love and hatred. The Scriptural passages illustrative of this thought are not a few. In the ninth chapter of the Epistle to the Romans, the thirteenth verse, it is said, "As it is written, Jacob have I loved, but Esau have I hated." God does not "hate." The two terms here, "loved" and {100} "hated," mean "approved" and "disapproved." It is as a father approves of the conduct of one of his children and disapproves that of another of them. Another example of this use of the word "hate" is found in the twenty-first chapter of Deuteronomy, the fifteenth verse: "If a man have two wives, one beloved, and another hated, and they have born him children, both the beloved and the hated; and if the firstborn son be hers that was hated: then it shall be, when he maketh his sons to inherit that which he hath, that he may not make the son of the beloved firstborn before the son of the hated, which is indeed the first-born: but he shall acknowledge the son of the hated for the firstborn, by giving him a double portion of all that he hath." Here it is safe to infer that the writer meant to distinguish between the wife who was a "favorite" and the one who was not. There could be no valid reason why a husband should live with a wife whom he really hated when he could very easily divorce her, according to the Jewish {101} law, and marry another. In such a case the husband was simply partial in his love. The hatred which is felt toward an enemy and a destroyer does not apply here. Another Scriptural passage which illustrates the free use of the word "love" is the story of the rich man in the tenth chapter of St. Mark's Gospel. Beginning with the seventeenth verse, the passage reads: "And when he was gone forth into the way, there came one running, and kneeling to him, and asked him, Good Master, what shall I do that I may inherit eternal life? And Jesus said unto him, Why callest thou me good? there is none good but one, that is, God. Thou knowest the commandments, Do not commit adultery, Do not kill, Do not steal, Do not bear false witness, Defraud not, Honor thy father and mother. And he answered and said unto him, Master, all these have I observed from my youth. _Then Jesus, beholding him, loved him_, and said unto him, One thing thou lackest"; and so forth. Apparently the brief conversation with the young man {102} showed Jesus that his questioner was both polite and intelligent, so the Master liked him. Stating the case in Western phraseology it may be said that the young Hebrew seeker was an agreeable, or likable man. Quite different is the import of the word "love" in such of the Master's sayings as are found in the fifteenth chapter of St. John's Gospel: "As the Father hath loved me, so have I loved you: continue ye in my love. This is my commandment, That ye love one another, as I have loved you." Here the term "love" is used in its truest and purest sense. From all this it may be seen that when the Great Oriental Teacher said to his countrymen, who considered all other clans than their own as their enemies, "Love your enemies," he did not mean that they should be enamored of them, but that they should have good will toward them. We cannot love by will and design, but we certainly can will to be well disposed even toward those who, we believe, have ill will toward us. He who really thinks this {103} an impossibility gives evidence not of superior "critical knowledge," but of being still in the lower stages of human evolution. But I have something more to say on this great subject. Whether used in a general or a highly specialized sense the word "Love" speaks indeed of the "greatest thing in the world." When the Master of the Art of Living said, "Love your enemies," he urged upon the minds of men the divinest law of human progress. Yet compliance with this demand seems, to the majority of men, to be beyond the reach of humanity. When you are admonished to love your enemies, you will be likely to think of the meanest, most disagreeable human being you know and wonder as to how you are going to love _such_ a person. But the Master's law far transcends this narrow conception of love. Its deeper meaning, when understood, renders such a conception shallow and childish. It is to be found, not in the freakish moods of the sensibility, but in the realm of permanent ideals. {104} There are in the world two forces at work, love and hatred. Hatred destroys, love builds; hatred injures, love heals; hatred embitters life, love sweetens it; hatred is godlessness, love is godliness. The supreme question, therefore, is, not as to whether there are unlovable persons in the world or not, but rather, which one of these two forces would you have to rule your own life and the life of humanity at large, love or hatred? Which nutrition would you give your own soul and the souls of those who are near and dear to you, that of hatred, or that of love? Can it be your aim in life to aid that power which injures, destroys, embitters life and estranges from God, or the power which heals, builds up, sweetens life and makes one with God? You say you have been injured through the malicious designs of others, you are pained by the injury, and a sense of hatred impels you to avenge yourself. But what formed such designs against you, love or hatred? Hatred! You enjoy, idealize, adore the love of those who {105} love you. The designs of love give you joyous satisfaction, and not pain. You know now by actual personal experience that the fruits of hatred are bitter, and the fruits of love are sweet. Is it your duty, therefore, to give your life over to the power of hatred, and thus increase its dominion among men and multiply its bitter, poisonous fruit in the world, or to consecrate your life to the power of love, which you idealize and adore, and whose fruits are joy and peace? This, therefore, is the Master's law of love: Give your life and service to that power which merits your holiest regard and engages your purest affections, regardless of the "evil and the undeserving." Recognize no enemies, and you shall have none. The only power which can defeat the designs of hatred is love. The foams of hatred and fumes of vengeance are destined to pass away with all their possessors; only love is permanent and sovereign good. The man of hatred is destined, sooner or {106} later, to lose his nobler qualities, his own self-respect and the respect of others, and to occupy the smallest and most undesirable social sphere. Therefore love, and do not hate! Exercise good will toward those even who have injured you. You may not be able to reach and redeem by your generous thoughts and designs such persons as have injured you, but a hundred others may learn from you the law of redeeming love. Let your children grow to know you as a man of love. Let your employees and fellow citizens think of you as a man of peace and good will, a builder and not a destroyer. Let your fireside be ever cheered by the music of love. When the shadows of night fall and you come to enter into the unknown land of sleep, let loving thoughts be your companions; let them course into the deepest recesses of your nature and leaven your entire being. Be a man of love! Love even your blind and misguided enemies! [1] Matt. v: 43-45. {107} CHAPTER IV "THE UNVERACIOUS ORIENTAL" The Oriental's juvenile temperament and his partial disregard for concrete facts have led his Anglo-Saxon cousin to consider him as essentially unveracious. "You cannot believe what an Oriental says." "The Orientals are the children of the 'Father of Lies.'" "Whatever an Oriental says, the opposite is likely to be the truth"; and so forth. I do not wish in the least to undertake to excuse or even condone the Oriental's unveracity, any more than to approve of the ethics of American politicians during a political campaign. I have no doubt that the Oriental suffers more from the universal affliction of untruthfulness than does the Anglo-Saxon, and that he sorely needs to restrict his fancy, and to train his intellect to have more respect for facts. Nevertheless, I feel compelled to say that a {108} clear understanding of some of the Oriental's modes of thought will quash many of the indictments against his veracity. His ways will remain different from the ways of the Anglo-Saxon, and perhaps not wholly agreeable to the latter; but the son of the East--the dreamer and writer of scriptures--will be credited with more honesty of purpose. It is unpleasant to an Anglo-Saxon to note how many things an Oriental says, but does not mean. And it is distressing to an Oriental to note how many things the Anglo-Saxon means, but does not say. To an unreconstructed Syrian the brevity, yea, even curtness, of an Englishman or an American, seems to sap life of its pleasures and to place a disproportionate value on time. For the Oriental, the primary value of time must not be computed in terms of business and money, but in terms of sociability and good fellowship. Poetry, and not prosaic accuracy, must be the dominant feature of speech. There is much more of intellectual inaccuracy than of moral delinquency in the Easterner's {109} speech. His misstatements are more often the result of indifference than the deliberate purpose to deceive. One of his besetting sins is his _ma besay-il_--it does not matter. He sees no essential difference between nine o'clock and half after nine, or whether a conversation took plate on the housetop or in the house. The main thing is to know the substance of what happened, with as many of the supporting details as may be conveniently remembered. A case may be overstated or understated, not necessarily for the purpose of deceiving, but to impress the hearer with the significance or the insignificance of it. If a sleeper who had been expected to rise at sunrise should oversleep and need to be awakened, say half an hour or an hour later than the appointed time, he is then aroused with the call, "Arise, it is noon already--_qûm sar edh-hir_." Of a strong and brave man it is said, "He can split the earth--_yekkid elaridh_." The Syrians suffer from no misunderstanding in such cases. They _discern_ one another's meaning. {110} So also many Scriptural passages need to be _discerned_. The purpose of the Oriental speaker or writer must be sought often beyond the letter of his statement, which he uses with great freedom. In the first chapter of St. Mark's Gospel, the thirty-second and thirty-third verses, it is said, "And at even, when the sun did set, they brought unto him all that were diseased, and them that were possessed of devils. And _all the city_ was gathered together at the door." The swiftness with which the poor people in Eastern communities bring their sick to a healer, be he a prophet or only a physician, is proverbial. Because of the scarcity of physicians, as well as of money with which to pay for medical attendance, when a healer is summoned to a home many afflicted persons come or are brought to him. The peoples of the East have always believed also in the healing of diseases by religious means. When a prophet arises the first thing expected of him is that he should heal the sick. Both the priest and the physician {111} are appealed to in time of trouble. To those who followed and believed in him Jesus was the healer of both the soul and the body. But note the account of the incident before us. The place was the city of Capernaum, and we are told that "_all the city_ was gathered together at the door" of the house where Jesus was bestowing the loving, healing touch upon the sick. Was the _whole city_ at the door? Were _all_ the sick in that large city brought into that house for Jesus to heal them? Here we are confronted by a physical impossibility. An Anglo-Saxon chronicler would have said, "Quite a number gathered at the door," which in all probability would have been a _correct_ report. But to the Oriental writer the object of the report was not _to determine the number_ of those who stood outside, nor to insist that each and every sick person in Capernaum was brought into the humble home of Simon and Andrew. It was rather to glorify the Great Teacher and his divine work of mercy, and not to give a photographic report of the attendant {112} circumstances. The saying, "Quite a number gathered at the door," may be correct, but to an Oriental it is absolutely colorless and tasteless, an inexcusably parsimonious use of the imagination. Take another Scriptural passage. In the seventeenth chapter of St. Matthew's Gospel, the first verse, we read: "And after six days Jesus taketh Peter, James, and John his brother, and bringeth them up into an high mountain apart, and was transfigured before them; and his face did shine as the sun." "After six days" from what time? In the preceding chapter a general reference to time is made in the thirteenth verse, where it is said: "When Jesus came into the coasts of Cæsarea Philippi, he asked his disciples, saying, Whom do men say that I the Son of man am?" But here no definite date is given. Chapter sixteenth ends with those great words, "For whosoever will save his life shall lose it: and whosoever will lose his life for my sake shall find it. For what is a man profited, if he shall gain the whole world, and {113} lose his own soul?" The two last verses of this chapter promise the speedy coming of the Kingdom. "After six days" from what time? Well, what does it matter from what time? Do you not see that the object of the record is to give a glimpse of what happened on that "high mountain" where the light and glory of the unseen world were reflected in the face of the Christ? The intelligent lay reader of the New Testament cannot fail to notice, especially in the Gospels, gaps and abrupt beginnings such as "In those days"; "Then came the disciples to Jesus"; "And it came to pass"; and many similar expressions which seem to point nowhere. The record seems to be rather incoherent. Yes, such difficulties, which are due largely to the Oriental's indifference to little details, exist in the Bible, but they are very unimportant. The central purpose of these books is to enable the reader to perceive the secret of a holy personality, whose mission was, is, and forever shall be, to emancipate the soul of man from the {114} bondage of a world of fear, weakness, sin, and doubt, and lead it onward and upward to the realms of faith, hope, and love. This purpose the Scriptures abundantly subserve. {115} CHAPTER V IMPRESSIONS _vs._ LITERAL ACCURACY A Syrian's chief purpose in a conversation is to convey an impression by whatever suitable means, and not to deliver his message in scientifically accurate terms. He expects to be judged not by what he _says_, but by what he _means_. He does not expect his hearer to listen to him with the quizzical courtesy of a "cool-headed Yankee," and to interrupt the flow of conversation by saying, with the least possible show of emotion, "Do I understand you to say," etc. No; he piles up his metaphors and superlatives, reinforced by a theatrical display of gestures and facial expressions, in order to make the hearer _feel_ his meaning. The Oriental's speech is always "illustrated." He speaks as it were in pictures. With him the spoken language goes hand in hand with the more ancient gesture language. His profuse gesticulation is that phase of his life which first {116} challenges the attention of Occidental travelers in the East. He points to almost everything he mentions in his speech, and would portray every feeling and emotion by means of some bodily movement. No sooner does he mention his eye than his index finger points to or even touches that organ. "Do you understand me?" is said to an auditor with the speaker's finger on his own temple. In rebuking one who makes unreasonable demands upon him, a Syrian would be likely to stoop down and say, "Don't you want to ride on my back?" One of the most striking examples of this manner of speech in the Bible is found in the twenty-first chapter of the Book of Acts. Beginning with the tenth verse, the writer says: "And as we tarried there [at Cæsarea] many days, there came down from Judea a certain prophet, named Agabus. And when he was come unto us, he took Paul's girdle, and bound his own hands and feet, and said, Thus saith the Holy Ghost, So shall the Jews at Jerusalem bind the man that owneth this girdle, and shall {117} deliver him into the hands of the Gentiles." Now an Occidental teacher would not have gone into all that trouble. He would have said to the great apostle, "Now you understand I don't mean to interfere with your business, but if I were you I would n't go down to Jerusalem. Those Jews there are not pleased with what you are doing, and would be likely to make things unpleasant for you." But in all probability such a polite hint would not have made Paul's companions weep, nor caused him to say, "What mean ye to weep and to break mine heart? for I am ready not to be bound only, but also to die at Jerusalem for the name of the Lord Jesus." It is also because the Syrian loves to speak in pictures, and to subordinate literal accuracy to the total impression of an utterance, that he makes such extensive use of figurative language. Instead of saying to the Pharisees, "Your pretensions to virtue and good birth far exceed your actual practice of virtue," John the Baptist cried: "O generation of vipers, who hath warned {118} you to flee from the wrath to come? Bring forth, therefore, fruits meet for repentance: and think not to say within yourselves, We have Abraham to our father: for I say unto you that God is able _of these stones_ to raise up children unto Abraham." Just as the Oriental loves to flavor his food strongly and to dress in bright colors, so is he fond of metaphor, exaggeration, and positiveness in speech. To him mild accuracy is weakness. A host of illustrations of this thought rise in my mind as I recall my early experiences as a Syrian youth. I remember how those jovial men who came to our house to "sit"--that is, to make a call of indefinite duration--would make their wild assertions and back them up by vows which they never intended to keep. The one would say, "What I say to you is the truth, and if it is not, I will cut off my right arm"--grasping it--"at the shoulder." "I promise you this,"--whatever the promise might be,--"and if I fail in fulfilling my promise I will pluck out my right eye." {119} To such speech we always listened admiringly and respectfully. But we never had the remotest idea that in any circumstances the speaker would carry out his resolution, or that his hearers had a right to demand it from him. He simply was in earnest; or as an American would say, "He meant that he was right." Such an Oriental mode of thought furnishes us with the background for Jesus' saying, "If thy right eye offend thee, pluck it out, and cast it from thee. If thy right hand offend thee, cut it off, and cast it from thee."[1] To many Western Christians, especially in the light of the Protestant doctrine of the infallibility of the letter of the Bible, these sayings of Christ present insurmountable difficulties. To such the question, "How can I be a true disciple of Christ, if I do not obey what he commands?" makes these misunderstood sayings of Christ great stumbling blocks. Some time ago a lady wrote me a letter saying that at a prayer-meeting which she attended, the minister, after {120} reading the fifth chapter of Matthew, which contains these commands, said, "If we are true Christians we must not shrink from obeying these explicit commands of our Lord." My informant stated also that on hearing that, she asked the preacher, "Suppose the tongue should offend, and we should cut it off; should we be better Christians than if we did endeavor to atone for the offense in some other way?" The preacher, after a moment of perplexed silence, said, "If there is no one here who can answer this question, we will sing a hymn." The best commentary on these sayings of Christ is given by Paul in the sixth chapter of his Epistle to the Romans. This is precisely what the Master meant: "Neither yield ye your members as instruments of unrighteousness unto sin; but yield yourselves unto God, as those that are alive from the dead, and your members as instruments of righteousness unto God." Cutting or mutilation of the body has nothing to do with either passage, nor indeed with the Christian life. The amputation of an {121} arm that steals is no sure guaranty of the removal of the desire to steal; nor would the plucking out of a lustful eye do away with the lust which uses the eye for an instrument. With this should be classed also the following commands: "Whosoever shall smite thee on the right cheek, turn to him the other also." "If any man will sue thee at the law, and take away thy coat, let him have thy cloak also; and whosoever shall compel thee to go a mile, go with him twain."[2] The command to give the coat and the cloak to a disputant, rather than to go to law with him, will seem much more perplexing when it is understood that these words mean the "under garment" and the "upper garment." The Orientals are not in the habit of wearing a coat and a cloak or overcoat. In the Arabic version we have the _thaub_ ("th" as in "throw") and the _rada'_. The _thaub_ is the main article of clothing--the ample gown worn over a shirt next to the body. The _rada'_ is the cloak worn {122} on occasions over the _thaub_. The Scriptural command literally is, "To one who would quarrel with thee and would take thy _thaub_, give him the _rada'_ also." It may be clearly seen here that literal compliance with this admonition would leave the non-resistant person, so far as clothes are concerned, in a pitiable condition. The concluding portion of this paragraph in the fifth chapter of St. Matthew's Gospel--the forty-second verse--presents another difficulty. It says, "Give to him that asketh thee, and from him that would borrow of thee turn not thou away." Of all those whom I have heard speak disparagingly of this passage I particularly recall a lawyer, whom I knew in a Western State, whose dislike for these words of Christ amounted almost to a mental affliction. It seems to me that on every single occasion when he and I discussed the Scriptures together, or spoke of Christianity, I found him armed with this passage as his most effective weapon against the innocent Nazarene. "What was Jesus thinking of," he would say, "when he {123} uttered these words? What would become of our business interests and financial institutions if we gave to every one that asked of us, and lent money without good security to every Tom, Dick, and Harry?" The thought involved in this text suffers from the unconditional manner in which it is presented, and which gives it its Oriental flavor. Seeing that he was addressing those who knew what he meant, the writer did not deem it necessary to state exactly the reason why this command was given. It seems, however, that when Jesus spoke those words he had in mind the following passage: "And if thy brother be waxed poor, and his hand fail with thee; then thou shalt uphold him: as a stranger and a sojourner shall he live with thee. Take thou no interest of him or increase, but fear thy God: that thy brother may live with thee. _Thou shalt not give him thy money upon interest_, nor give him thy victuals for increase."[3] According to this legal stipulation, an Israelite could not {124} lawfully charge a fellow Israelite interest on a loan. Therefore, "as a matter of business," the money-lenders preferred to lend their money to the Gentiles, from whom they were permitted to take interest, and to "turn away" from borrowers of their own race. And as the teachers of Israel of his day often assailed Jesus for his non-observance of the law, he in turn never failed to remind them of the fact that their own practices did greater violence to the law than his own liberal interpretation of it in the interest of man. From all that I know of Oriental modes of thought and life I cannot conceive that Jesus meant by all these sayings to give brute force the right of way in human life. He himself drove the traders out of the temple by physical force. These precepts were not meant to prohibit the use of force in self-defense and for the protection of property, but were given as an antidote to that relentless law of revenge which required "an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth." The Master does not preach a gospel {125} of helplessness, but enjoins a manly attitude toward peace and concord, in place of a constantly active desire for vengeance and strife. Again let me say that an Oriental expects to be judged chiefly by what he means and not by what he says. As a rule, the Oriental is not altogether unaware of the fact that, as regards the letter, his statements are often sadly lacking in correctness. But I venture to say that when a person who is conversing with me knows that I know that what he is saying is not exactly true I may not like his manner of speech, yet I cannot justly call him a liar. A neighbor of mine in a Mount Lebanon village makes a trip to Damascus and comes to my house of an evening to tell me all about it. He would not be a Syrian if he did not give wings to his fancy and present me with an idealistic painting of his adventure, instead of handing me a photograph. I listen and laugh and wonder. I know his statements are not wholly correct, and he knows exactly how I feel about it. We both are aware, however, that {126} the proceedings of the evening are not those of a business transaction, but of an entertainment. My friend does not maliciously misrepresent the facts; he simply loves to speak in poetic terms and is somewhat inhospitable to cross-examination. Certainly we would not buy and sell sheep and oxen and fields and vineyards after that fashion, but we like to be so entertained. Beyond the wide margin of social hospitality and the latitude of intellectual tolerance, I am aware of the fact that in all the flourish of metaphor and simile, what my visitor really meant to say was either that his trip to Damascus was pleasant or that it was hazardous, and that there were many interesting things to see in that portion of the world; all of which was indubitably true. While on a visit to Syria, after having spent several years in this country, where I had lived almost exclusively with Americans, I was very strongly impressed by the decidedly sharp contrast between the Syrian and the American modes of thought. The years had worked many {127} changes in me, and I had become addicted to the more compact phraseology of the American social code. In welcoming me to his house, an old friend of mine spoke with impressive cheerfulness as follows: "You have extremely honored me by coming into my abode [_menzel_], I am not worthy of it. This house is yours; you can burn it if you wish. My children also are at your disposal; I would sacrifice them all for your pleasure. What a blessed day this is, now that the light of your countenance has shone upon us"; and so forth, and so on. I understood my friend fully and most agreeably, although it was not easy for me to translate his words to my American wife without causing her to be greatly alarmed at the possibility that the house would be set on fire and the children slain for our pleasure. What my friend really meant in his effusive welcome was no more or less than what a gracious American host means when he says, "I am delighted to see you; please make yourself at home." {128} Had the creed-makers of Christendom approached the Bible by way of Oriental psychology, had they viewed the Scriptures against the background of Syrian life, they would not have dealt with Holy Writ as a jurist deals with legislative enactments. Again, had the unfriendly critics of the Bible real acquaintance with the land of its birth, they would not have been so sure that the Bible was "a mass of impossibilities." The sad fact is that the Bible has suffered violence from literalists among its friends, as from its enemies. For example, in their failure to heal a sick lad[4] the disciples came to Jesus and asked him why they could not do the beneficent deed. According to the Revised and the Arabic versions, the Master answered, "Because of your unbelief; for verily I say unto you, If ye have faith as a grain of mustard seed, ye shall say unto this mountain, Remove hence to yonder place, and it shall remove." Colonel Robert Ingersoll never tired of challenging the Christians {129} of America to put this scripture to a successful test, and thus _convince_ him that the Bible is inspired. In the face of such a challenge the "believer" is likely to feel compelled to admit that the church does not have the required amount of faith, else it could remove mountains. To one well acquainted with the Oriental manner of speech this saying was not meant to fix a rule of conduct, but to idealize faith. In order to do this in real Syrian fashion, Jesus spoke of an infinitesimal amount of faith as being capable of moving the biggest object on earth. His disciples must have understood him clearly, because we have no record that they ever tried to remove mountains by faith and prayer. It would be most astounding, indeed, if Christ really thought that those disciples, who forsook all and followed him, had not as much faith as a grain of mustard seed, and yet said to them, "Ye are the light of the world. Ye are the salt of the earth." Of a similar character is the Master's saying, {130} "It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle, than for a rich man to enter into the kingdom of God,"[5] which has quickened the exegetical genius of commentators to mighty efforts in "expounding the Scriptures." Judging by the vast number of persons in this country who have asked my opinion, as a Syrian, concerning its correctness, and the fact that I have myself seen it in print, the following interpretation of this passage must have been much in vogue. The walled cities and feudal castles of Palestine, the explanation runs, have large gates. Because of their great size, such gates are opened only on special occasions to admit chariots and caravans. Therefore, in order to give pedestrians thoroughfare, a smaller opening about the size of an ordinary door is made in the center of the great gate, near to the ground. Now this smaller door through which a camel cannot pass is the eye of the needle mentioned in the Gospel. {131} I once heard a Sunday-School superintendent explain this passage to his scholars by saying that a camel could pass through this eye of a needle--meaning the door--if he was not loaded. Therefore, and by analogy, if we cast off our load of sin outside, we can easily enter into the kingdom of heaven. Were the camel and the gate left out, this statement would be an excellent fatherly admonition. There is perhaps no gate in the celestial city large enough to admit a man with a load of sin strapped to his soul. However, the chief trouble with these explanations of the "eye-of-the-needle" passage is that they are wholly untrue. This saying is current in the East, and in all probability it was a common saying there long before the advent of Christ. But I never knew that small door in a city or a castle gate to be called the needle's eye; nor indeed the large gate to be called the needle. The name of that door, in the common speech of the country, is the "plum," and I am certain the {132} Scriptural passage makes no reference to it whatever. The Koran makes use of this expression in one of its purest classical Arabic passages. The term employed here--_sûm-el-khiat_--can mean only the sewing instrument, and nothing else. Nothing can show more clearly the genuine Oriental character of this New Testament passage and that of the Teacher who uttered it, than the intense positiveness of its thought and the unrestrained flight of its imagery. I can just hear the Master say it. Jesus' purpose was to state that it was extremely difficult "for them that trust in riches to enter into the Kingdom of God."[6] To this end he chose the biggest animal and the smallest opening known to his people and compared the impossibility of a camel passing through the eye of a needle with that of a man weighted down with earthly things becoming one with God. The Master's rebuke of the scribes and pharisees, {133} "Ye blind guides, which strain at a gnat and swallow a camel,"[7] expresses a similar thought in a different form and connection. There is no need here to puzzle over the anatomical problem as to whether the throat of a Pharisee was capacious enough to gulp a camel down. The strong and agreeable Oriental flavor of this saying comes from the sharp contrast between the size of the gnat and that of the camel. So the Master employed it in order to show the glaring contradictions in the precepts and practices of the priests of his day, who tithed mint and rue, but "passed over judgment and the love of God." One of the most interesting examples of Oriental speech is found in the eighteenth chapter of St. Matthew's Gospel, the twenty-first verse: "Then came Peter and said to him, Lord how oft shall my brother sin against me, and I forgive him? till seven times? Jesus saith unto him, I say not unto thee, until seven times; but, until seventy times seven." Did Jesus {134} really mean that an offender should be forgiven four hundred and ninety times? Would it be to the interest of the offender himself and to society at large to forgive an embezzler, a slanderer or a prevaricator four hundred and ninety times? Is not punishment which is guided by reason and sympathy, and whose end is corrective, really a great aid in character-building? Let us try to interpret this passage with reference to certain scenes in Jesus' own life. In the sixteenth chapter of Matthew, the twenty-first verse, we read: "From that time forth began Jesus to show unto his disciples, how that he must go unto Jerusalem, and suffer many things of the elders and chief priests and scribes, and be killed, and be raised again the third day. Then Peter took him, and began to rebuke him, saying, Lord: this shall not be unto thee. But he turned, and said unto Peter, _Get thee behind me, Satan: thou art an offence to me_: for thou savourest not the things that be of God, but those that be of men." In the second chapter of St. John's Gospel, {135} the thirteenth verse, we are told: "And the Jews' passover was at hand, and Jesus went up to Jerusalem, and found in the temple those that sold oxen and sheep and doves, and the changers of money sitting: _and when he had made a scourge of small cords, he drove them all out of the temple_, and the sheep, and the oxen; and poured out the changers' money, and overthrew the tables; and said unto them that sold doves, Take these things hence; make not my Father's house an house of merchandise." The forgiving "seventy times seven" did not apply, as it seems, in these cases. In the very chapter from which this saying comes,[8] the Master gives us two superb examples of certain and somewhat swift retribution for offenses. In the fifteenth verse, he says: "Moreover, if thy brother shall trespass against thee, go tell him his fault between thee and him alone: if he shall hear thee, thou hast gained thy brother. But if he will not hear thee, then take with thee one or two more, that in the mouth {136} of two or three witnesses every word may be established. And if he neglect to hear them, tell it unto the church; but if he neglect to hear the church, _let him be unto thee as an heathen man and a publican_." The parable of the "certain king" and the "wicked servant" follows immediately the "seventy times seven" passage. "Therefore is the kingdom of heaven likened unto a certain king, which would take account of his servants. And when he had begun to reckon, one was brought unto him, which owed him ten thousand talents. But forasmuch as he had not to pay, his lord commanded him to be sold, and his wife, and children, and all that he had, and payment be made. The servant therefore fell down and worshipped him, saying, Lord, have patience with me, and I will pay thee all. Then the Lord of that servant was moved with compassion, and loosed him, and forgave him the debt. But the same servant went out, and found one of his fellowservants, which owed him an hundred pence: and he laid hands on him, {137} and took him by the throat, saying, Pay me that thou owest. And his fellowservant fell down at his feet, and besought him, saying, Have patience with me, and I will pay thee all. And he would not: but went and cast him into prison, till he should pay the debt. So when his fellowservants saw what was done, they were very sorry, and came and told unto their lord all that was done. Then his lord, after that he had called him, said unto him, O thou wicked servant, I forgave thee all that debt, because thou desiredst me: shouldest not thou also have had compassion on thy fellow-servant, even as I had pity on thee? _And his lord was wroth, and delivered him to the tormentors, till he should pay all that was due unto him_. So likewise shall my heavenly Father do also unto you, if ye from your hearts forgive not every one his brother their trespasses." Now as a matter of fact the lord of the wicked servant did not forgive him seventy times seven, but "delivered him to the tormentors" for his first offense. Will the heavenly Father do {138} _likewise_? Do we not have irreconcilable contradictions in these Scriptural passages? No doubt there are difficulties here. But once the "seventy-times-seven" passage is clearly understood, the difficulties will, I believe, disappear. In harmony with his legalistic preconception, Peter chose the full and sacred number "seven" as a very liberal measure of forgiveness. Apparently Jesus' purpose was to make forgiveness a matter of disposition, sympathy, and discretion, rather than of arithmetic. To this end he made use of an Oriental saying which meant _indefiniteness_, rather than a fixed rule. This saying occurs in one of the most ancient Old Testament narratives, and, most fittingly, in a bit of poetry:[9] "And Lamech said unto his wives: Adah and Zillah, hear my voice; Ye wives of Lamech, hearken unto my speech: For I have slain a man for wounding me, And a young man for bruising me: If Cain shall be avenged sevenfold Truly Lamech seventy and sevenfold." {139} In both Testaments the meaning of the saying is the same--indefiniteness. It is one of that host of Bible passages and current Oriental sayings which must be judged by what they _mean_, and not by what they _say_. The writer of the eighteenth chapter of Matthew grouped those seemingly contradictory passages together, because they all dealt with forgiveness. That they must have been spoken under various circumstances is very obvious. The object of the admonition concerning the trespassing brother (verses 15-17) is to encourage Christians to "reason together" in a fraternal spirit about the differences which may arise between them, and, _if at all possible_, to win the offending member back to the fold. And the object of the parable of the "wicked servant" is to contrast the spirit of kindness with that of cruelty. [1] Matt. v: 29-30. [2] Matt. v: 39-41. [3] Lev. xxv: 35; Revised Version. [4] Matt. xvii: 19. [5] Matt. xix: 24. [6] Mark x: 24. [7] Matt. xxiii: 24. [8] Matt. xviii. [9] Gen. iv: 23; Revised Version. {140} CHAPTER VI SPEAKING IN PARABLES Teaching and conversing in parables and proverbs is a distinctly Oriental characteristic. A parable is a word picture whose purpose is not to construct a definition or to establish a doctrine, but to convey an impression. However, the Oriental makes no distinction between a proverb and a parable. In both the Hebrew and the Arabic, the word _mathel_ signifies either a short wise saying, such as may be found in the Book of Proverbs, or a longer utterance, such as a New Testament parable. In the Arabic Bible, the wise sayings of the Book of Proverbs are called _amthal_, and the parabolic discourses of Jesus are also called _amthal_. This term is the plural of _mathel_ (parable or proverb). This designation includes also any wise poetical saying, or any human state of fortune or adversity. Thus a very generous man becomes a _mathel bilkaram_ (a parable of generosity); and a man {141} of unsavory reputation becomes a _mathel beinennass_ (a saying or a by-word among the people). In the forty-fourth Psalm, the fourteenth verse, the poet cries: "Thou makest us a by-word among the nations, a shaking of the head among the people." A fine illustration of the _mathel_ as a poetical saying, although not strictly allegorical, is the opening passage of the twenty-ninth chapter of the Book of Job, where it is said:-- "And Job again took up his parable and said, Oh that I were as in the months of old, As in the days when God watched over me; When his lamp shined upon my head, And by his light I walked through darkness; As I was in the ripeness of my days, When the friendship of God was upon my tent; When the Almighty was yet with me, And my children were about me; When my steps were washed with butter, And the rock poured me out rivers of oil!"[1] Where in human literature can we find a passage to surpass in beauty and tenderness this introspective utterance? {142} Parabolic speech is dear to the Oriental heart. It is poetical, mystical, sociable. In showing the reason why Jesus taught in parables, Biblical writers speak of the indirect method, the picture language, the concealing of the truth from those "who had not the understanding," and so forth. But those writers fail to mention a most important reason, namely, the _sociable_ nature of such a method of teaching, which is so dear to the Syrian heart. In view of the small value the Orientals place upon time, the story-teller, the speaker in parables, is to them the most charming conversationalist. Why be so prosy, brief, and abstract? The spectacular charm and intense concreteness of the parable of the Prodigal Son is infinitely more agreeable to the Oriental mind than the general precept that God will forgive his truly penitent children. How romantic and how enchanting to me are the memories of those _sehrat_ (evening gatherings) at my father's house! How simple and how human was the homely wisdom of the stories and the parables which were spoken on {143} those occasions. The elderly men of the clan loved to speak of what "was said in the ancient days" (_qadeem ezzeman_). "_Qal el-wathel_" (said the parable) prefaced almost every utterance. And as the speaker proceeded to relate a parable and to reinforce the ancient saying by what his own poetic fancy could create at the time of kindred material, we listened admiringly, and looked forward with ecstatic expectation to the _maana_ (meaning, or moral). Oral traditions, the Scriptures, Mohammedan literature, and other rich sources are drawn upon, both for instruction in wisdom and for entertainment. In picturing the condition of one who has been demoralized beyond redemption, the entertaining speaker proceeds in this fashion: "Once upon a time a certain man fell from the housetop and was badly injured. The neighbors came and carried him into the house and placed him in bed. Then one of his friends approached near to the injured man and said to him, 'Asaad, my beloved friend, how is your condition [_kief halak_]?' The much-pained man {144} opened his mouth and said, 'My two arms are broken; my back and one of my legs are broken; one of my eyes is put out; I am badly wounded in the breast, and feel that my liver is severed. But I trust that God will restore me.' Whereupon his friend answered, 'Asaad, I am distressed. But if this is your condition, it will be much easier for God to make a new man to take your place than to restore you!'" One of the most beautiful parables I know, and which I often heard my father relate, bears on the subject of partiality, and is as follows:-- "Once upon a time there were two men, the one named Ibrahim, the other Yusuf. Each of the men had a camel. It came to pass that when Yusuf fell sick he asked of his neighbor Ibrahim, who was about to journey to Alappo, to take his camel with him also, with a load of merchandise. Yusuf begged Ibrahim to treat the camel in exactly the same manner as he did his own, and promised him that if God kept him alive until he came back he would repay him both the good deed, and the cost of the {145} camel's keep. Ibrahim accepted the trust, and took his journey to Alappo, with the two camels. Upon his return Yusuf saw that his own camel did not look so well as Ibrahim's. So he spoke to his friend: 'Ibrahim, by the life of God, what has happened to my camel? He is not as good as your camel. O Ibrahim, did you care for my camel as you did for your camel?' Then Ibrahim answered and said, 'By the life of God, O Yusuf, I fed, and watered, and groomed your camel as I did my camel. God witnesseth between us, Yusuf, this is the truth. But I will say to you, you my eyes, my heart, that when night came and I lay me down on my cloak to sleep between the two camels, I placed my head nearer to my camel than to yours.'" It was the desirableness to Orientals of this type of speech which prompted the writer of the Gospel of Matthew to say of Jesus, "And without a parable spake he not unto them."[2] This utterance itself is characteristically {146} Oriental. As a matter of fact, Jesus _did_ often speak to the multitude _without_ parables. But his strong tendency to make use of the parable, and its agreeableness to his hearers, seemed to the Scriptural writer to be a sufficient justification for his sweeping assertion. Of the New Testament parables some are quoted in this work in connection with other subjects than that with which this chapter deals. I will mention here a few more of these sayings as additional illustrations of the present subject, and with reference to the allusions to Oriental life which they contain. In the thirteenth chapter of Matthew, we have the parable of the wheat and the tares: "The kingdom of heaven is likened unto a man which sowed good seed in his field: but while men slept, his enemy came and sowed tares among the wheat, and went his way. But when the blade was sprung up, and brought forth fruit, then appeared the tares also." The tare (_zewan_) is a grain which when ground with the wheat and eaten causes dizziness {147} and nausea, a state much like seasickness. For this reason this plant is hated by the Syrians, although they use tares very extensively as chicken feed. Wheat merchants are likely to sell _kameh mizwen_ (wheat mixed with tares) in hard times, because they can buy it for less money than pure wheat. I do not believe there is a family among the common people of Syria which has not suffered at one time or another from "tare-sickness." Having tasted the gall of this affliction a few times myself, I do not at all wonder at the Syrians' belief that tares must have come into the world by the Devil. And what I still remember with both amusement and sympathy are the heartfelt, withering imprecations which the afflicted ones always showered upon the seller of the "tarey wheat." When the food had taken real effect and the staggering, nauseated members of a family felt compelled to allow nature to take its course, the gasps and groans punctuated the ejaculations, "May God destroy his home!" "May the gold turn into dust in his hands!" {148} "May he spend the price of what he sold us at the funerals of his children!"--and so forth. Do you feel now the force of the allusion to the tares in the parable? "So the servants of the householder came and said unto him, Sir, didst not thou sow good seed in thy field? from whence then hath it tares? He said unto them, An enemy hath done this." Enemies are of course always disposed to injure one another, and in an agricultural country like Syria harm is often done to property for revenge. So the scattering of tares for this purpose in a newly sown wheat-field is not utterly unnatural or unthinkable. But the reference in the parable is to a belief which is prevalent in some districts in Syria, to the effect that in spite of all that the sower can do to prevent it, the tares do appear mysteriously in fields where only wheat had been sown. Some evil power introduces the noxious plant. Once I listened to a heated controversy on the subject between some Syrian landowners and an American missionary. The landowners clung to the belief {149} that tares would appear in a field even if no tare seed was ever planted in that field, while the son of the West insisted that no such growth could take place without the seed having first been introduced into the field in some natural way. The fight was a draw. "The servants said unto him, Wilt thou then that we go and gather them up? But he said, Nay, lest while ye gather up the tares, ye root up also the wheat with them." The attempt is often made to pull up the hated tares from among the wheat, but in vain. The concluding admonition in the parable may well be taken to heart by every hasty reformer of the type of a certain regenerator of society, who, when asked to proceed slowly, said, "The fact is I am in a hurry, and God is not!" In the same chapter (Matt. XIII) occurs the parable of the "leaven." "The kingdom of heaven is like unto leaven, which a woman took, and hid in three measures of meal, till the whole was leavened." The setting of this short {150} parable in Syrian life is given in another chapter.[3] But I mention it here in order to give my comment on a rather strange interpretation of the parable which came recently to my knowledge. In the course of a conversation I had with a prominent Baptist minister not long since, he stated to me that certain interpreters assert that the leaven in this parable meant the corruption which has come into the Christian Church, etc. My friend was anxious to know whether to my knowledge the Syrians associated leaven with corruption. This interpretation echoes an ancient idea of leaven of which modern Syrians have no knowledge. They hold the leaven in high and reverential esteem.[4] To them it is the symbol of growth and fecundity. In many of the rural districts of Syria, upon approaching the door of her future home the bride is given the _khamera_ (the lump of leaven) which she pastes on the upper doorsill and passes under it into the house. As she performs the solemn act her {151} friends exclaim, "May you be as blessed and as fruitful as the _khamera_!" However, it is a well-known fact to readers of ancient records that in the earliest times bread was entirely unleavened. When the Israelites were roaming tribes they ate and offered to Jehovah unleavened bread. The Arab tribes of to-day on the borders of Syria eat no leavened bread. They believe that it tends to reduce the vitality and endurance of the body. Perhaps the real reason for preferring the unleavened bread is that it is much easier to make, and dispenses with taking care of the lump of leaven between bakings, which is not so convenient for roaming tribes to do. The use of unleavened bread for so many generations among the Israelites constituted its sacredness, and it was the conservatism of religion which still called for unleavened bread for the offering, even after leavened bread had become universally the daily food of the people. So to the ancients the fermentation in the process of leavening was considered corruption. {152} It was something which entered into the lump and soured it. The New Testament use of the word "leaven" as meaning corruption is purely figurative, and signifies influence, or bad doctrine. It was in this sense that Jesus used the word when he said to his disciples:[5] "Take heed and beware of the leaven of the Pharisees and of the Sadducees"; and again:[6] "Take heed, beware of the leaven of the Pharisees, and of the leaven of Herod." The fact that the disciples did not understand at first what the Master meant shows that to the general public "leaven" and "corruption" were not synonymous terms. Had they been, it is certain that Jesus never would have said, "The kingdom of heaven is like unto leaven." The fifteenth chapter of St. Luke's Gospel contains the parables of the lost sheep, the lost coin, and the prodigal son. The parable of the lost sheep is discussed in another chapter.[7] The parable of the lost coin portrays a very familiar scene in the ordinary Syrian home. "What {153} woman," says the Master, "having ten pieces of silver, if she lose one piece, doth not light a candle, and sweep the house, and seek diligently till she find it? And when she hath found it, she calleth her friends and her neighbors together, saying, Rejoice with me; for I have found the piece which I had lost." The candle spoken of here is a little olive-oil lamp--an earthen saucer, with a protruding lip curled up at one point in the rim for the wick. How often have I held that flickering light for my mother while she searched for a lost coin or some other precious object. The common Syrian house has one door and one or two small windows, with wooden shutters, without glass.[8] Consequently the interior of the house is dimly lighted, especially in the winter season. The scarcity of money in the hands of the people makes the loss of a coin, of the value of that which is mentioned in the parable (about sixteen cents), a sad event. The {154} little house is searched with eager thoroughness--"diligently." The straw mats, cushions, and sheepskins which cover the floor are turned over, and the earthen floor swept. The search continues, with diligence and prayerful expectations, until the lost coin is found. The Arabic Bible states that the gladdened woman "calls her _women_ neighbors and friends (_jaratiha wesedikatiha_), saying, Rejoice with me; for I have found the piece which I had lost." The singling out of the _women_ neighbors is significant here. As a rule the loss of a precious coin by a woman calls her husband's wrath upon her, regardless of whether the coin had been earned by her or by him. The _women friends_ have a keen fellow-feeling in such matters. They keep one another's secrets from the men, and rejoice when one of their number escapes an unpleasant situation. The total meaning of this parable is plain as it is most precious. Through this common occurrence in a Syrian home, Jesus impresses upon the minds of his hearers, as well as upon {155} the consciousness of all mankind, the infinite worth of the human soul, and the Father's love and care for it. "Likewise, I say unto you, there is joy in the presence of the angels of God over one sinner that repenteth." The parable of the prodigal son follows immediately that of the lost coin. "A certain man had two sons: and the younger of them said to his father, Father, give me the portion of goods that falleth to me. And he divided unto them his living." The first thing in this parable to challenge the attention is the father's quick compliance with the request of his son. "And he divided unto them his living." The custom of a father dividing his property among his grown sons before his death prevails much more extensively in the East than in the West. As a rule neither the law nor custom gives legal standing to a will. Sometimes the father's wishes with regard to how his property should be divided after his death are carried out by his sons. But as a general rule the father who does not divide his property legally between his sons before his {156} death leaves to them a situation fraught with danger. Litigation in such cases is very slow and uncertain. It was such a situation, no doubt, which led the man referred to in the twelfth chapter of Luke, the thirteenth verse, to say to Jesus, "Master, speak to my brother, that he divide the inheritance with me. And he said unto him, Man, who made me a judge or a divider over you?" And we may easily infer what Jesus thought of that particular case from his saying which follows immediately his answer to this man. "And he said unto them, Take heed, and beware of covetousness: for a man's life consisteth not in the abundance of the things which he possesseth." So the father of the prodigal son acted normally when he divided his substance between his two sons. "And not many days after the younger son gathered all together, and took his journey into a far country, and there wasted his substance with riotous living." The singling out of the younger son for this adventure comports with {157} a highly cherished Oriental tradition. The elder son, who was the first-born male child in this household, could not very well be made to commit such an act. In a Syrian family the _bikkr_ (the first-born son) stands next to the father in the esteem, not only of the members of his own household, but of the community at large. He cannot be supposed to be so rash, so unmindful of his birthright, as to break the sacred family circle, and to waste his inheritance in riotous living. "And when he had spent all, there arose a mighty famine in that land; and he began to be in want. And he went and joined himself to a citizen of that country; and he sent him into his fields to feed swine. And he would fain have been filled with the husks that the swine did eat; and no man gave unto him." To be a swineherd, or a "swine-shepherd," is the most contemptible occupation an Oriental can think of. It is no wonder at all to me that the Gospel writers make the destination of the "legion" of devils which Jesus cast out of the {158} man "in the country of the Gadarenes," a herd of swine.[9] You cannot hire a Syrian to make a pet of a "little piggie." If he did, he would be called "_Abu khenzier_" (pig man) for the rest of his life, and transmit the unenviable title to his posterity, "even unto the third and fourth generation." The word "husks" in the English version is not a correct rendering of the original term. The marginal note in the Revised Version reads, "the pods of the carob tree." The Arabic version says simply _kherrûb_ (carob). The carob tree is very common in the lowlands of Syria. It is a large tree of dense foliage, and round, glossy, dark-green leaves. The pods it bears measure from five to ten inches in length, are flat, and largely horn-shaped. I do not know why the English translators of the Bible called those pods "husks." They are sold in almost every town in western Syria for food. Children are very fond of _kherrûb_. Some of the pods contain no small amount of sugar. In my boyhood {159} days, a pocketful of _kherrûb_, which I procured for a penny, was to me rather a treat. The older people, however, do not esteem _kherrûb_ so highly as do the children. The bulk of it is so out of proportion to the sugar it contains that its poverty is proverbial in the land. Of one whose conversation is luxuriant in words and barren of ideas it is said, "It is like eating _kherrûb_; you have to consume a cord of wood in order to get an ounce of sweet." By eating these pods, the poor people seem to themselves "to have been filled" while in reality they have received but little nutrition. Therefore _kherrûb_ is generally eaten by animals. It may be observed that the saying in the parable, "and he would fain have been filled with _kherrûb_ that the swine did eat: and no man gave unto him," simply describes the prodigal's poverty. For as a "swine-shepherd" the "_kherrûb_ that the swine did eat" was certainly very accessible to him. The purpose of the passage is to draw the contrast between the rich parental home which the prodigal had willingly {160} left and the extremely humble fare on which in his wretched state he was compelled to subsist. The return of the prodigal son to his father's house, impoverished but penitent, the affectionate magnanimity of the father toward his son, and the spreading of the feast in honor of the occasion, are acts of humility and generosity which cannot be said to be exclusively Oriental. But the command of the father to his servants, "Bring hither the fatted calf and kill it; and let us eat and be merry," brings out the idea of the _zebihat_ (animal sacrifice) with which the West is not familiar. The ancient custom, whose echoes have not yet died out in the East, was that the host honored his guest most highly by killing a sheep at the threshold of the house, upon the guest's arrival, and inviting him to step over the blood into the house. This act formed the "blood covenant" between the guest and his host. It made them one. To us one of the most cordial and dignified expressions in {161} inviting a guest, especially from a distant town, was, "If God ever favors us with a visit from you, we will kill a _zebihat_!" In his great rejoicing in the return of his son, the father of the prodigal is made to receive him as he would a most highly honored guest. "The fatted calf"--and not only a sheep--is killed as the _zebihat_ of a new covenant between a loving father and his son, who "was dead and is alive again; was lost, and is found."[10] The parable of the "treasure hid in a field"[11] alludes to a very interesting phase of Syrian thought. "Again, the kingdom of heaven is like unto a treasure hid in a field, the which when a man hath found, he hideth, and for joy thereof goeth and selleth all that he hath, and buyeth that field." I cannot refrain from quoting again in this connection the famous commentator, Adam Clarke. Speaking of this parable, he says: "We are not to imagine that the _treasure_ here {162} mentioned, and to which the gospel salvation is likened, means a _pot_ or _chest_ of money hidden in the field, but rather a gold or silver _mine_, which he who found out could not get at, or work, without turning up the field, and for this purpose he bought it. Mr. Wakefield's observation is very just: 'There is no sense in the _purchase_ of a field for a _pot_ of _money_, which he might have carried away very _readily_ and as _honestly_, too, as by overreaching the owner by an unjust purchase.' ... From this view of the subject, the translation of this verse, given above, will appear proper--a _hidden treasure_, when applied to a _rich mine_, is more proper than a _treasure hid_, which applies better to a _pot of money_ deposited there, which I suppose was our translator's opinion; and _kept secret_, or _concealed_, will apply better to the subject of his discovery till he made the purchase, than _hideth_, for which there could be no occasion, when the pot was already _hidden_, and the place known only to himself." I have inserted here this double quotation, {163} italics and all, in order to show how when the real facts are not known to a writer the temptation to play on words becomes irresistible. In this exposition the simple parable is treated as a legal document. Every word of it is subjected to careful scrutiny. "Hid" is converted into "hidden," and "concealed" is summoned to supplant "hideth," in order to make the "treasure" mean a vast deposit of gold ore, and get the poor Syrian peasant into the mining business. The facts in the case, however, stand opposed to this explanation. I am absolutely safe in saying that every man, woman, and child in Syria understands that this parable refers simply and purely to a treasure of gold and silver which had been buried in a field by human hands. The entanglement of the commentator just quoted in the literary fault of the parable is inexcusable. The New Testament writer might have said, not that the man in the parable _found_ the treasure, but that he was _led_ by certain {164} signs _to believe_ that a treasure lay hidden in the field. However, this is not the Oriental way of stating things, nor should the speaker in parables be denied the freedom of the poet and the artist to manipulate the particulars in such a way as to make them serve the central purpose of his production. I could fill a book with the stories of hidden treasures which charmed my boyhood days in Syria. I have already put into print[12] a detailed account of my personal experience in digging for a hidden treasure, which will clearly show that the securing of such riches is not always so easy to diggers as the quotation just cited would make one believe. In order to show the attitude of Syrians in general toward this subject, I will quote the following from my own personal account:-- "In Syria it is universally believed that hidden treasures may be found anywhere in the land, and especially among ancient ruins. This {165} belief rests on the simple truth that the tribes and clans of Syria, having from time immemorial lived in a state of warfare, have hidden their treasures in the ground, especially on the eve of battles. "Furthermore, the wars of the past being wars of extermination, the vanquished could not return to reclaim their hidden wealth; therefore the ground is the keeper of vast riches. The tales of the digging and finding of such treasures fill the country. There are thrilling tales of treasures in various localities. Gold and other valuables are said to have been dug up in sealed earthen jars, often by the merest accident, in the ground, in the walls of houses, under enchanted trees, and in sepulchers. From earliest childhood the people's minds are fed on these tales, and they grow up with all their senses alert to the remotest suggestions of such possibilities." The writer of the parable did not need to explain the situation to his Oriental readers. The mere mention of a "hidden treasure" was {166} sufficient to make them know what the words meant. His supreme purpose was to impress them with the matchless worth of the kingdom of heaven which Christ came to reveal to the world. [1] Revised Version. [2] Matt. xiii: 34. [3] See page 198. [4] See page 199. [5] Matt. xvi: 6. [6] Mark viii: 15. [7] See page 308. [8] See the author's autobiography, _A Far Journey_, chap. 1, entitled "My Father's House." [9] Matt. viii: 32; Mark v: 13; Luke viii: 33. [10] For the reason why the mother of the prodigal is not mentioned in the parable, see pages 207 and 334. [11] Matt. xiii: 44. [12] _Atlantic Monthly_, December, 1915. This story, with other essays, will soon appear in book form. {167} CHAPTER VII SWEARING Perhaps the one phase of his speech which lays the Oriental open to the charge of unveracity is his much swearing. Of course this evil habit knows no geographical boundaries and no racial limits. However, probably because of their tendency to be profuse, intense, and positive in speech, the Orientals no doubt have more than their legitimate share of swearing. But it should be kept in mind that in that part of the world swearing is not looked upon with the same disapproval and contempt as in America; swearing by the name of the Deity has always been considered the most sacred and solemn affirmation of a statement. It is simply calling God to witness that what has been said is the sacred truth. Thus in the twenty-first chapter of the book of Genesis Abimelech asks Abraham, "Now therefore swear unto me here by God that thou wilt not deal falsely with me, nor {168} with my son, nor with my son's son." "And Abraham said, I will swear." St. Paul employs this type of speech in a milder form, after the New Testament fashion, in the opening verse of the twelfth chapter of his Epistle to the Romans, where he says: "I beseech you, therefore, brethren, _by the mercies of God_, that ye present your bodies a living sacrifice, holy, acceptable unto God, which is your reasonable service." In the opening verse of the ninth chapter of the Epistle to the Romans, Paul succeeds in an elegant manner in dispensing with swearing altogether, when he says: "I say the truth in Christ, I lie not, my conscience also bearing me witness in the Holy Ghost." Generally speaking, however, the custom of swearing after the manner of the Old Testament has undergone no change in Syria since the days of Abraham. Swearing is an integral element in Oriental speech. Instinctively the speaker turns his eyes and lifts his hands toward heaven and says, "By Allah, what I have {169} said is right and true. _Yeshhedo-Allah_ [God witnesseth] to the truth of my words." In a similar manner, and as in a score of places in the Old Testament, the maker of a statement is asked by his hearer to swear by God as a solemn assurance that his statement is true and sincere. The Mohammedan law, which is the law of modern Syria, demands swearing in judicial contests. The judge awards the accuser--that is, the plaintiff--the right to lead the defendant to any shrine he may choose, and cause him to swear the _yemîn_ (solemn oath) as a final witness to his innocence. By this act the plaintiff places his adversary in the hands of the Supreme Judge, whose judgments are "true and righteous altogether." A false oath is supposed to bring awful retribution upon its maker and upon his posterity. Of such importance is this mode of speech to Orientals that the Israelites thought of Jehovah Himself as making such affirmations. In the twenty-second chapter of Genesis we have the words, "By myself have I sworn, saith the {170} Lord." Further light is thrown on this point by the explanation given to the verse just quoted in the sixth chapter of the Epistle to the Hebrews, where it is said, "For when God made promise to Abraham, because he could swear by no greater, he swore by himself." I have no doubt that this thought of God swearing by himself sprang from the custom of Oriental aristocrats of sealing a vow, or solemnly affirming a statement, or an intention to do some daring deed, by saying, "I swear by my head"--an oath which, whenever I heard it in my youth, filled me with awe. Thus, also, in the sixty-second chapter of Isaiah we have the words, "The Lord hath sworn by his right hand, and by the arm of his strength." Among the Mohammedans, swearing "by the most high God" and "by the life of the Prophet" and "by the exalted Koran" in affirmation of almost every statement, is universal. The Christians swear by God, Christ, the Virgin, the Cross, the Saints, the repose of their dead, the Holy City, the Eucharist, {171} Heaven, great holidays, and many other names. A father swears by the life of a dear child, and sons of distinguished fathers swear by them. "By the life of my father, I am telling the truth," is a very common expression. The antiquity of this custom is made evident by the passage in the thirty-first chapter of Genesis and the fifty-third verse: "And Jacob sware by the fear of his father Isaac." However, the word "fear" does violence to the real meaning of the verse, which the Arabic version rescues by saying, "And Jacob swore by the _heybet_ [benignity, or beautiful dignity] of his father." He swore by that which he and others loved, and not feared, in his father. But what must seem to Americans utterly ridiculous is the Oriental habit of swearing by the mustache and the beard, which is, however, one phase of swearing by the head. To swear by one's mustache, or beard, means to pledge the integrity of one's manhood. "I swear by this," is said solemnly by a man with his hand upon his mustache. Swearing by the {172} beard is supposed to carry more weight because, as a rule, it is worn by the older men. To speak disrespectfully of one's mustache or beard, or to curse the beard of a person's father, is to invite serious trouble. The sacredness of the beard to Orientals goes back to the remote past when all the hair of the head and the face was considered sacred. Growing a beard is still esteemed a solemn act in Syria, so much so that, having let his beard grow, one cannot shave it off without becoming a by-word in the community. To speak of the scissors or of a razor in the presence of one wearing a beard, especially if he be a priest, or of the aristocracy, is considered a deep insult to him. Such unseemly conduct seldom fails to precipitate a fight. In 2 Samuel, the tenth chapter, fourth verse, we have the record of Hanun's disgraceful treatment of David's men, whom he had thought to be spies. "Wherefore Hanun took David's servants, and shaved off the one half of their beards, and cut off their garments in the middle, even to their buttocks, {173} and sent them away. When they told it unto David, he sent to meet them, because the men _were greatly ashamed_: and the king said, Tarry at Jericho _until your beards be grown_, and then return." It is because of this ancient conception of the hair that the Syrians still swear by the mustache and the beard, although the majority of them know not the real reason why they do so. I remember distinctly how proud I was in my youth to put my hand upon my mustache, when it was yet not even large enough to be respectfully noticed, and swear by it _as a man_. I recall also to what roars of laughter I would provoke my elders at such times, to my great dismay. Here it may easily be seen that swearing in the Orient had so lost its original sacredness and become so vulgar, even as far back as the time of Christ, that He deemed it necessary to give the unqualified command, "Swear not at all: neither by heaven, for it is God's throne, nor by the earth, for it is his footstool: neither by {174} Jerusalem, for it is the city of the great King. Neither shalt thou swear by thy head, because thou canst not make one hair white or black. But let your communication be yea, yea; nay, nay; for whatsoever is more than these cometh of evil." This was perhaps the most difficult command to obey that Jesus ever gave to his countrymen. {175} CHAPTER VIII FOUR CHARACTERISTICS Of the other characteristics of Oriental speech, I wish to speak of four before I bring this part of my book to a close. The first, the many and picturesque dialects. The entire absence of the public school, the scarcity of other educational institutions, as well as of books and periodicals, and the extreme slowness of transportation, have always tended to perpetuate the multitude of dialects in the speech of the Syrian people. The common language of the land is the Arabic, which is divided into two types--the classical and the common, or the language of learning and that of daily speech. The classical language is one, but the common language is a labyrinth of dialects. Each section of that small country has its _lehjah_ (accent), and it is no exaggeration to say that each town within those sections has a _lehjah_ of its own. Certain letters of the {176} alphabet are also sounded differently in different localities. Thus, for an example, the word for "stood" is pronounced _qam_ in certain localities, and _aam_ in others. The word for "male" is pronounced _zeker_ by some communities, and _deker_ by others. That such a state of things prevailed also in ancient Israel and in New Testament times is very evident. In the twelfth chapter of the Book of Judges we have the record of a fight between the Gileadites and the Ephraimites, in which we find the following statement: "And the Gileadites took the passages of Jordan before the Ephraimites: and it was so, that when those Ephraimites which were escaped said, Let me go over; that the men of Gilead said unto him, Art thou an Ephraimite? If he said, Nay; then said they unto him, Say now Shibboleth: and he said Sibboleth: _for he could not frame to pronounce it right_. Then they took him, and slew him." This simple means of identification might be used in present-day Syria with equal success. {177} In the fourteenth chapter of St. Mark's Gospel we have another striking illustration of this characteristic of Oriental speech, in Peter's experience in the palace of the high priest. In the fifty-third verse it is said: "And they led Jesus away to the high priest: and with him were assembled all the chief priests and the elders and the scribes. And Peter followed him afar off, even into the palace of the high priest." The record continues (verses 66-71): "And as Peter was beneath in the palace, there cometh one of the maids of the high priest: and when she saw Peter warming himself, she looked upon him, and said, And thou also wast with Jesus of Nazareth. But he denied, saying, I know not, neither understand I what thou sayest. And he went out into the porch.... And a little after, they that stood by said again to Peter, Surely thou art one of them: for thou art a Galilaean, _and thy speech agreeth thereto_.[1] But he began to curse and to swear, saying, I know not this man of whom ye speak." {178} Poor Peter! the more he swore and cursed the more clearly he revealed his identity. His cowardice might have concealed him, but for his dialect. He spoke the dialect of Galilee in the city of Jerusalem, and so far as the identification of his person was concerned, even a certificate from the authorities of the town of his birth, testifying to his being a native of Galilee, could not have so effectively served that purpose. The second characteristic is the juvenile habit of imploring "in season and out of season" when asking a favor. To try to exert "undue" influence, virtually to beg in most persuasive tones, is an Oriental habit which to an American must seem unendurable. Of the many illustrations of this custom which fill my memory I will relate the following incident, which I once heard a man relate to my father. This man had bought, for six hundred piasters, a piece of land which had been given as a _nezer_ (vow) to our Greek Orthodox Church. After he had given his note for the {179} sum and secured the deed, it occurred to him that the price was too high, and, being himself a son of the Church, that he ought to secure the land for four hundred piasters. So, as he stated, he went to Beyrout, the seat of our bishop, where he stayed three days. By constant petitioning, he secured the privilege of interviewing the bishop four times on the subject. With great glee he stated that at the last interview he refused to rise from his seat at the feet of that long-suffering ecclesiastic until his petition was granted. One of the most striking examples of this characteristic is the parable of the unrighteous judge, in the eighteenth chapter of Luke. "There was in a city a judge, which feared not God, neither regarded man: and there was a widow in that city, and she came unto him saying, Avenge me [the original is "do me justice"] of mine adversary. And he would not for a while: but afterward he said within himself, Though I fear not God, nor regard man, yet because this widow troubleth me, I will {180} avenge her, _lest by her continual coming she weary me_." Here is a case--by no means a rare exception in that country--where a judge rendered a verdict against his own best judgment in sheer self-defense. And I must say that, knowing such Oriental tendencies as I do, especially as manifested by widows, I am in deep sympathy with the judge. Yet it was this very persistence in petitioning the Father of all men which gave mankind the lofty psalms and tender prayers of our Scriptures. It was this persistent filial pleading and imploring which made Israel turn again and again to the "God of righteousness" and say, "We have sinned," and ask for a deeper revealing of his ways to them. Job's cry, "Though he slay me, yet will I trust in him," may not be the proper language of modern etiquette, but it certainly is the language of religion. In the very parable just quoted, Jesus recommends to his disciples the insistence of the widow as a means to draw the benediction of heaven upon {181} them, and to secure for them justification at the hands of the righteous judge. Honest seekers after spiritual gifts should not be averse to imitating this Oriental trait. They should never be afraid to come to their Father again and again for his gracious blessing, or refrain from "storming the gates of heaven with prayer." The third characteristic of Oriental speech is its intimacy and unreserve. Mere implications which are so common to reserved and guarded speech leave a void in the Oriental heart. It is because of this that the Orientals have always craved "signs and wonders," and interpreted natural phenomena in terms of direct miraculous communications from God to convince them that He cared for them. Although Gideon was speaking with Jehovah Himself, who promised to help him to save his kinsmen from the Midianites, he asked for a more tangible, more definite sign. We are told in the sixth chapter of Judges, thirty-sixth verse: "And Gideon said unto God, If thou wilt save Israel by mine hand, as thou hast spoken, behold, I will put a {182} fleece of wool on the threshing-floor; if there be dew on the fleece only, and it be dry upon all the ground, then shall I know that thou wilt save Israel by mine hand, as thou hast spoken. And it was so." But Gideon, still unsatisfied, speaks again in childlike simplicity and intimacy; "Let not thine anger be kindled against me, and I will speak but this once: let me make trial, I pray thee, but this once with the fleece; let it now be dry only upon the fleece, and upon all the ground let there be dew. And God did so that night." It is not at all uncommon for old and tried friends in Syria to give and ask for affectionate assurances, that they do love one another. Such expressions are the wine of life. Especially when new confidences are exchanged or great favors asked, a man turns with guileless eyes to his trusted friend and says, "Now you love me; I say you love me, don't you?" "My soul, my eyes," answers the other, "you know what is in my heart toward you; you know and the Creator knows!" Then the request is made. {183} One of the noblest and tenderest passages in the New Testament, a passage whose spirit has fed the strength of the Christian missionaries throughout the ages, is that portion of the twenty-first chapter of St. John's Gospel where Jesus speaks to Peter in this intimate Syrian fashion. How sweet and natural it sounds to a son of the East! "So when they had dined, Jesus saith to Simon Peter, Simon, son of Jonas, lovest thou me?" How characteristic also is Peter's answer, "Yea, Lord; thou knowest that I love thee." Then came the precious request, "Feed my lambs." Three times did the affectionate Master knock at the door of Peter's heart, till the poor impetuous disciple cried, "Lord, thou knowest all things; thou knowest that I love thee. Jesus saith unto him, Feed my sheep." The fourth characteristic of Oriental speech is its unqualified positiveness. Outside the small circles of Europeanized Syrians, such qualifying phrases as "in my opinion," "so it seems to me," "as I see it," and the like, are {184} almost entirely absent from Oriental speech. The Oriental is never so cautious in his speech as a certain American editor of a religious paper, who in speaking of Cain described him as "the _alleged_ murderer of Abel"! Such expressions, also, are rarely used in the Bible, and then only in the New Testament, in which Greek influence plays no small part. Thus in the seventh chapter of his second Epistle to the Corinthians, Paul, in giving his opinion on marriage said, "_I suppose_, therefore, that this is good for the present distress," and so forth. I am not aware that this form of speech is used anywhere in the entire Old Testament. The language of the Oriental is that of sentiment and conviction, and not of highly differentiated and specialized thought. When you say to him, "I think this object is beautiful," if he does not think it is so, he says, "No, it is not beautiful." Although he is expressing his own individual opinion, he does not take the trouble to make that perfectly clear: if an object is not beautiful to him, it _is not_ beautiful. {185} From an intellectual and social standpoint, this mode of speech may be considered a serious defect. So do children express themselves. But it should be kept in mind that the Oriental mind is that of the prophet and the seer, and not of the scientist and the philosopher. It is the mind which has proven the most suitable transmissive agency of divine revelation. When the seer beholds a vision of the things that are eternal, he cannot speak of it as a supposition or a guess, or transmit it with intellectual caution and timidity. "Thus saith the Lord." "The word of the Lord came unto me saying, Son of man, prophesy." When we speak of the deepest realities of life, we do not beset our utterances with qualifying phrases. True love, deep sorrow, a real vision of spiritual things transcend all speculative speech; they press with irresistible might for direct and authoritative expression. Take for an example Jesus' matchless declaration: "The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he hath anointed me to preach the {186} gospel [glad tidings] to the poor; he hath sent me to heal the broken-hearted, to preach deliverance to the captives, and recovering of sight to the blind, to set at liberty them that are bruised, to preach the acceptable year of the Lord."[2] How would this great utterance sound if given in the nice, cautious language of an "up-to-date" thinker? What force would it carry if put in this form, "It seems to me, although I may be entirely mistaken, that something like what may be termed the 'Spirit of the Lord' is upon me, and I feel that, in my own limited way, I must preach the Gospel"? Of course reckless, dogmatic assertions from the pulpit are never wise nor profitable. Ultimately, whether in the realms of science or spiritual experience, the facts are the things which will count. Nevertheless, it must be admitted that the modern pulpit suffers to a large extent from overcautiousness. By many ministers the facts are evaluated more in an intellectual than in a spiritual sense. Hence that {187} cautiousness in utterance which is seriously threatening the spirit of prophecy and the authority of real spiritual _experience_ in the religious teachers of the present day. Legitimate intellectual caution should never be allowed to degenerate into spiritual timidity, nor the knowledge of outward things to put out the prophetic fire in the soul. There is, no doubt, much food for thought in the following legend. It is said of a preacher, who was apparently determined not to make "rash statements," that in speaking to his people on repentance he had this for his final word: "If you do not repent, as it were, and be converted, in a measure, you will be damned, to a certain extent." The congregation that has such a preacher is damned already! And I perceive some difference between such a preacher and Him who says, "Verily, I say unto you, except ye be converted, and become as little children, ye shall not enter into the kingdom of heaven."[3] This seeming weakness in Oriental speech {188} and in the Bible is in reality tremendous spiritual strength. Through our sacred Scriptures we hear the voices of those great Oriental prophets who spoke as they saw and felt; as seers, and not as logicians. And it was indeed most fortunate for the world that the Bible was written in an age of instinctive listening to the divine Voice, and in a country whose juvenile modes of speech protected the "rugged maxims" of the Scriptures from the weakening influences of an overstrained intellectualism. [1] See also Matt. xxvi: 73. [2] Luke iv: 18. [3] Matt. xviii: 3. {191} PART III BREAD AND SALT CHAPTER I THE SACRED 'AISH To an Oriental the phrase "bread and salt" is of sacred import. The saying, "There is bread and salt between us," which has been prevalent in the East from time immemorial, is equal to saying, "We are bound together by a solemn covenant." To say of one that he "knows not the significance of bread and salt" is to stigmatize him as a base ingrate. A noble foe refuses to "taste the salt" of his adversary--that is, to eat with him--so long as he feels disinclined to be reconciled to him. Such a foe dreads the thought of repudiating the covenant which the breaking of bread together forms. In the rural districts of Syria, much more than in the cities, is still observed the ancient custom that a man on an important mission should not eat his host's bread until the errand is made known. The covenant of "bread and salt" should not be entered into {192} before the attitude of the host toward his guest's mission is fully known. If the request is granted, then the meal is enjoyed as a fraternal affirmation of the agreement just made. So in the twenty-fourth chapter of the Book of Genesis we are told that Abraham's servant, who had gone to Mesopotamia, "unto the city of Nahor," to bring a wife of his master's kindred to his son Isaac, refused to eat at Laban's table before he had told his errand. With characteristic Oriental hospitality the brother of Rebekah, after hearing his sister's story, sought Abraham's faithful servant, "and, behold, he stood by the camels at the well. And he said, Come in, thou blessed of the Lord; wherefore standest thou without? for I have prepared the house, and room for the camels. And the man came into the house.... And there was set meat before him to eat: but he said, _I will not eat, until I have told mine errand_."[1] The errand having been told, "the servant brought forth jewels of silver, and jewels of gold, and raiment, and {193} gave them to Rebekah.... _And they did eat and drink_, he and the men that were with him."[2] Of all his enemies, the writer of the forty-first Psalm considered the "familiar friend" who went back on his simple covenant to be the worst. "Yea," he cries, mournfully, "mine own familiar friend, in whom I trusted, which did eat my bread, hath lifted up his heel against me." As the son of a Syrian family I was brought up to think of bread as possessing a mystic sacred significance. I never would step on a piece of bread fallen in the road, but would pick it up, press it to my lips for reverence, and place it in a wall or some other place where it would not be trodden upon. What always seemed to me to be one of {194} the noblest traditions of my people was their reverence for the _'aish_ (bread; literally, "the life-giver"). While breaking bread together we would not rise to salute an arriving guest, whatever his social rank. Whether spoken or not, our excuse for not rising and engaging in the cordial Oriental salutation before the meal was ended, was our reverence for the food (_hirmetel-'aish_). We could, however, and always did, invite the newcomer most urgently to partake of the repast. At least once each year, for many years, I carried the _korban_ (the bread offering) to the _mizbeh_ (altar of sacrifice) in our village church, as an offering for the repose of the souls of our dead as well as for our own spiritual security. Bread was one of the elements of the holy Eucharist. The mass always closed with the handing by the priest to the members of the congregation of small pieces of consecrated bread. The Gospel taught us also that Christ was the "bread of life." The _'aish_ was something more than mere {195} matter. Inasmuch as it sustained life, it was God's own life made tangible for his child, man, to feed upon. The Most High himself fed our hunger. Does not the Psalmist say, "Thou openest thine hand, and satisfieth the desire of every living thing"? Where else could our daily bread come from? [1] Verses 30-33. [2] Verses 53-54. The word "drink," which is frequently used in the Bible in connection with the word "eat," does not necessarily refer to wine drinking. The expression "food and drink" is current in Syria, and means simply "board." An employer says to an employee, "I will pay you so much wages, and your food and drink" (aklek washirbek). The drink may be nothing but water. {196} CHAPTER II "OUR DAILY BREAD" I have often heard it said by "up-to-date" religionists in this country that the saying in the Lord's Prayer, "Give us this day our daily bread," was at best a beggar's lazy petition. It has been suggested that those words should be omitted from the prayer, because they pertain to "material things." And at any rate we can get our daily bread only by working for it. Yes; and the Oriental understands all that. But he perceives also that by working for his daily bread he does not _create_ it, but simply _finds_ it. The prayer, "Give us this day our daily bread" is a note of pure gratitude to the "Giver of all good and perfect gifts." The Oriental does not know "material things" as the Occidental knows them. To him organic chemistry does not take the place of God. He is, in his totality, God-centered. His center of gravity is the altar and not the factory, and back {197} of his prayer for daily bread is the momentum of ages of mystic contemplation. The Oriental finds kinship, not with those who go for their daily bread no farther than the bakery, but with the writer of this modern psalm:-- "Back of the loaf is the snowy flour, Back of the flour the mill; Back of the mill is the wheat and the shower And the sun and the Father's will." It is not my purpose to exaggerate the piety and moral rectitude of the Oriental. I am fully aware of the fact that he is lamentably lacking in his efforts to rise to the height of his noblest traditions. Nevertheless, those who know the Oriental's inner life know also that from seed-time until harvest, and until the bread is placed upon the family board, this man's attitude toward the "staff of life" is essentially religious. In the name of God he casts the seed into the soil; in the name of God he thrusts the sickle into the ripe harvest; in the name of God he scatters his sheaves on the threshing floor and grinds his grain at the mill; and in the name of {198} God his wife kneads the dough, bakes the bread, and serves it to her family. In my childhood days "kneading-day" at our house was always of peculiar significance to me. I had no toys or story-books to engage my attention, and it was with the greatest interest that I watched my mother go through the process of kneading. Her pious words and actions made kneading a sort of religious service. After making the sign of the cross and invoking the Holy Name, she drew the required quantity of flour out of a small opening near the bottom of the earthen barrel in which the precious meal was stored. It was out of such a barrel that the widow of "Zarephath which belongeth to Zidon" drew the "handful of meal" she had, and made of it a cake for Elijah, for which favor the fiery prophet prayed that the widow's barrel of meal "shall not waste." Then my mother packed the flour in the shape of a crescent on one side of the large earthen _maajan_ (kneading basin) which is about thirty inches in diameter. She dissolved the {199} salt in warm water, which she poured in the basin by the embankment of flour. Then with a "God bless" she took out the leaven--a lump of dough saved from the former baking--which she had buried in flour to keep it "from corruption," that is, from overfermentation. This leaven she dissolved carefully in the salt water, and by slowly mixing the meal with this fluid, she "hid" the leaven in the meal. It was this process which Jesus mentioned very briefly in the parable of the leaven in the thirteenth chapter of St. Matthew's Gospel. "The kingdom of heaven is like unto leaven, which a woman took and hid in three measures of meal, till the whole was leavened." The kneading done, my mother smoothed the surface of the blessed lump, dipped her hand in water, and with the edge of her palm marked a deep cross the whole length of the diameter of the basin, crossed herself three times, while she muttered an invocation, and then covered the basin and left the dough to rise. The same pious attitude was resumed {200} when the raised dough was made into small loaves, during the baking, and whenever the mother of the family put her hand into the basin where the loaves were kept, to take out bread for her family's needs. Does it now seem strange, unnatural, or in any way out of harmony with the trend of her whole life, for such a woman to pray, "Give us this day our daily bread"? Shall we receive the gifts and forget the Giver? However circuitous our way to our daily bread may be, the fact remains that we do feed on God's own life. "The earth is the Lord's and the fullness thereof." The use of iron stoves was unknown to the Syrians in my childhood days; and this modern convenience is now used only by some of the well-to-do people in the large cities. The rank and file of the people, as in the days of ancient Israel, still bake their bread at semi-public ovens, a few of which are found in every village and town. This baking-place is mentioned often in the Bible, but the word "oven" in the English translation is somewhat misleading. It {201} is so because the _tennûr_ (translated "oven" in the Bible) is unknown to the English-speaking world, if not to the entire Occident. The _tennûr_ is a huge earthen tube about three feet in diameter and about five feet long; it is sunk in the ground within a small, roughly constructed hut. The women bake their bread at the _tennûr_ in turn, certain days being assigned to certain families. The one baking comprises from one hundred to two hundred loaves. The fuel, which consists of small branches of trees, and of thistles and straw, is thrown into the _tennûr_ in large quantities. It is to this that Jesus alludes in the passage, "If then God so clothe the grass which is to-day in the field, and to-morrow is _cast into the oven_, how much more will he clothe you, O ye of little faith?" When I recall the sight of a burning _tennûr_, I do not find it difficult to imagine what the old theologians meant by the "burning pit." The billows of black smoke, pierced at intervals by tongues of flame issuing from the deep hole, convert the chimneyless hut into an active {202} crater. No one who has seen such a sight can fail to understand what the prophet Malachi meant when he exclaimed, "For, behold, the day cometh, that shall burn as an oven; and all the proud, yea, and all that do wickedly, shall be stubble."[1] And no one who has seen that little hut, virtually plastered with the blackest soot, can fail to understand the full meaning of that passage in the fifth chapter of the Book of Lamentations, the tenth verse, which says, "Our skin was black like an oven, because of the terrible famine." A large baking is a source of pride as well as a means of security. A Syrian housewife is proud to have the oven all to herself for a whole day. It is a disgrace--nay, a curse--to have a small baking, or to buy bread in small quantity, "one weight" at a time. One of the terrible threats to Israel, recorded in the twenty-sixth chapter of the Book of Leviticus, the twenty-sixth verse, is this: "When I have broken the staff of your bread, ten women shall {203} bake your bread in one oven, and they shall deliver you your bread again by weight: and ye shall eat and not be satisfied." My mother often admonished us to be thankful that we were not like those who had to buy their bread by weight--that is, in small quantities. But this saying, "and they shall deliver you your bread again by weight," may mean also the weighing of the portions delivered to the various members of the family, in order that no one may receive more than any other, and that the scanty supply of food may be more carefully doled out. However, probably because no real famine ever occurred in Syria within my memory, I never knew of the actual resorting, within the family circle, to such severe restrictions in the distribution of the daily food. A similar practice, however, prevails among the Arab tribes in sharing their meager supply of water, while traveling in the desert. In order to insure equality, a pebble is placed in the bottom of a small wooden cup into which the water is poured. The draught {204} which each traveler receives at long intervals is "the covering of the pebble," that is, only the quantity of water needed just to cover the pebble in the cup. [1] Mal. iv: 1. {205} CHAPTER III "COMPEL THEM TO COME IN" The hospitality of Orientals is proverbial the world over. And while some Westerners have an exaggerated idea of Oriental generosity, the son of the East is not unjustly famous for his readiness to offer to wayfarers the shelter of his roof and his bread and salt. The person who fails to extend such hospitality brings reproach, not only upon himself, but upon his whole clan and town. But whether hospitality is extended to strangers or to friends, it is the man who entertains, and not the woman. The invitation is extended in the name of the husband alone, or, if the husband is not living, in the name of the eldest son. In the case of a widow who has no male children, a man relative is asked to act as host. The man of the house should not allow a wayfarer to pass him without offering him a "morsel of bread to sustain his heart." So did {206} Abraham of old extend hospitality to the three mysterious strangers who came upon him "in the plains of Mamre," as stated in the eighteenth chapter of Genesis, the second and following verses, "And he lift up his eyes and looked, and, lo, three men stood by him: and when he saw them, he ran to meet them from the tent door, and bowed himself toward the ground, and said, My Lord, if now I have found favor in thy sight, pass not away, I pray thee, from thy servant; ... and I will fetch a morsel of bread, and comfort ye your hearts: after that ye shall pass on." How natural and how truly Syrian all this sounds! Sarah was not at all slighted because Abraham did not say, "Sarah and I will be glad to have you stop for lunch with us, if you can." On the contrary, she was greatly honored by not being mentioned in the invitation. We have another striking illustration of this Syrian custom in the parable of the prodigal son, in the fifteenth chapter of St. Luke's Gospel. Here we are told that, when the wayward {207} boy returned to his father's house, desolate but penitent, it was the father who ran out to meet the son and "fell on his neck, and kissed him." It was the father who said to his servants, "Bring forth the best robe, and put it on him; and put a ring on his hand, and shoes on his feet; and bring hither the fatted calf, and kill it; and let us eat, and be merry." I know well that the mother of the prodigal could not have been less affectionate nor less effusive in her welcome to her poor son than his father was. But in harmony with the best traditions of the East, and without the least intention of slighting the good mother, the record takes no notice of her. It should be stated here that the prominent mention in the Gospels of Mary and Martha as Jesus' friends and entertainers is due to the fact that to those women the Master was not merely a _guest_, but a _saint_, nay, the "promised One of Israel." As such Jesus was a privileged personage. Yet--and it is not at all strange in view of Oriental customs--Jesus took with him none of his women friends and disciples on such {208} great occasions as the Transfiguration and the Last Supper. To extend hospitality in genuine Syrian fashion is no small undertaking. Brevity on such occasions is the soul of stinginess. Oriental effusiveness and intensity of speech are never more strenuously exercised than at such times. The brief form of the American invitation, "I should be pleased to have you dine with us, if you can," however sincere, would seem to an Oriental like an excuse to escape the obligation of hospitality. Again, the ready acceptance of an invitation in the West would seem to the son of the East utterly undignified. Although the would-be guest could accept, he must be as insistent in saying, "No, I can't," as the would-be host in saying, "Yes, you must." Approaching his hoped-for guest, a Syrian engages him in something like the following dialogue, characterized by a glow of feeling which the translation can only faintly reveal:-- "Ennoble us [_sherrifna_] by your presence." {209} "I would be ennobled [_nitsherref_] but I cannot accept." "That cannot be." "Yea, yea, it must be." "No, I swear against you [_aksim 'aleik_] by our friendship and by the life of God. I love just to acquaint you with my bread and salt." "I swear also that I find it impossible [_gheir mimkin_] to accept. Your bread and salt are known to all." "Yea, do it just for our own good. By coming to us you come to your own home. Let us repay your bounty to us [_fadhlek_]." "_Astaghfero Allah_ [by the mercy of God] I have not bestowed any bounty upon you worth mentioning." Here the host seizes his guest by the arm and with an emphatic, "I _will not_ let you go," pulls at him and would drag him bodily into his house. Then the guest, happy in being vanquished "with honor," consents to the invitation. Do you now understand fully the meaning {210} of the passage in the fourteenth chapter of Luke's Gospel? "A certain man made a great supper, and bade many ... and they all with one consent began to make excuse.... And the Lord said unto the servant, Go out into the highways and hedges, and _compel_ them to come in, that my house may be filled."[1] So also did Lydia, "a seller of purple, of the city of Thyatira," invite the apostles, who had converted her to the new faith. In the sixteenth chapter of the Book of Acts, the fifteenth verse, Paul says, "And when she was baptized, and her household, she besought us, saying, If ye have judged me to be faithful to the Lord, come into my house, and abide there. _And she constrained us_." In the interior towns and villages of Syria the ancient custom still prevails that, when a stranger arrives in a town late in the day, he goes and sits in the "open space" (_saha_). While not designed to be so, this open space corresponds to the village common. In the English Bible it is called "the street." Streets, however, {211} are unknown to Syrian towns. Sitting in the _saha_, the stranger is the guest of the whole village. The citizen who first sees such a wayfarer must invite him to his home in real Syrian fashion. Failing in this, he brings disgrace, not only upon himself, but upon the whole town. It is needless to say that no people ever rise to the height of their ideals, and that failure to be "given to hospitality" occurs, even in the East. In the nineteenth chapter of the Book of Judges we have the record of a stranger who sat in the _saha_ of a certain village, but was not offered the usual hospitality very readily. This man was a Levite, and, with his wife, servant, and a couple of asses, was on his way from Bethlehem "toward the side of Mount Ephraim." "And the sun went down upon them when they were by Gibeah, which belongeth to Benjamin. And they turned aside thither, to go in and to lodge in Gibeah: and when he went in, he sat him down in a street of the city; for there was no man that took them into his house to lodging. And, behold, there came an old man from {212} his work out of the field at even.... And when he had lifted up his eyes, he saw a wayfaring man in the street of the city: and the old man said, Whither goest thou? and whence comest thou? And he said unto him, We are passing from Bethlehem-Judah toward the side of Mount Ephraim ... but I am now going to the house of the Lord; and there is no man that receiveth me to house." And in order to add to the shame of the inhospitable village the stranger adds, "Yet there is both straw and provender for our asses; and there is bread and wine also for me, and for thy handmaid [the wife], and for the young man which is with thy servants: there is no want of any thing." What a rebuke to that community! "And the old man said, Peace be with thee; howsoever let all thy wants lie upon me; _only lodge not in the street_. So he brought him into his house, and gave provender unto the asses: and they washed their feet, and did eat and drink." The old man saved the name of the town. {213} One of the noblest and most tender utterances of Job is the thirty-second verse of the thirty-first chapter. Here the afflicted patriarch, in pleading his own cause before the Most High, says, "The stranger did not lodge in the street, but I opened my doors to the traveller." Syrian rules of hospitality make it improper for a householder to ask a guest who has suddenly come to him such a question as "Have you had your lunch?" before putting food before him. The guest, even though he has not had the meal asked about by the host, considers it below his dignity to make the fact known. Upon the arrival of such a visitor, the householder greets him with the almost untranslatable words, "_Ahlan wa sahlan_." Literally translated, these words are "kindred and smooth ground"; which, elucidated further, mean, "You have come not to strangers but to those who would be to you as your kindred are, and among us you tread smooth and easy ground." And even while the guest is being yet saluted by the man of the house in the {214} protracted manner of Oriental greeting, the good wife proceeds to prepare "a morsel" for the wayfarer, whatever hour of the day or night it may happen to be. The food then is placed before the guest and he is "compelled" to eat. There is in the eleventh chapter of St. Luke's Gospel a parabolic saying which is uncommonly rich in allusions to Syrian home life. Beginning with the fifth verse we read: "And he said unto them, Which of you shall have a friend, and shall go unto him at midnight, and say unto him, Friend, lend me three loaves; for a friend of mine in his journey is come to me, and I have nothing to set before him; and he from within shall answer and say, Trouble me not: the door is now shut, and my children are with me in bed; I cannot rise and give thee?" Here we have a man to whom a guest comes at midnight; he must set something before him, whether the wayfarer is really hungry or not. The host happens to be short of bread, and he sets out to borrow a few loaves. Owing to the homogeneous character of life in the East, {215} borrowing has been developed there into a fine art. The man at the door asks for three loaves. Three of those thin Syrian loaves is the average number for one individual's meal. It was for this reason that the Master used this number in the parable, and not because that was all the bread the occasion required. For obvious reasons, the host needed to put before his guest more than the exact number of loaves necessary for one adult's meal. Perhaps because he is very sleepy, the man "within" runs counter to the best Syrian traditions in his answer. His excuse--that because the door is shut he cannot open it and accommodate his friend--has been a puzzle to a host of Western readers of the Bible. Could he not have opened the door? Or, as a certain preacher asked in my hearing, "Could it be possible that the man, because of fear of robbers in that country, had a sort of combination lock on his door which could not be easily opened?" The simple fact is that in Syria as a rule the door of a house is never shut, summer or winter, until bedtime. The words of my {216} father and mother to me whenever they thought that I had "remained wakeful"--that is, "stayed up"--longer than I should after they had gone to bed,--"Shut the door and go to sleep,"--still ring in my ears. What the man "within" meant was, not that he could not open the door, but that at such a late hour, _after the door had been shut_, it was no time to call for such favors as the neighbor asked for. "And my children are with me in bed." From this it may be inferred easily that individual beds and individual rooms are well-nigh unknown to the common people of Syria. The cushion-mattresses are spread side by side in the living room, in a line as long as the members of the family, sleeping close together, require. The father sleeps at one end of the line, and the mother at the other end, "to keep the children from rolling from under the cover." So the man was absolutely truthful when he said by way of an excuse, "My children are with me in bed." In the remaining portion of this parable, as in that of the unrighteous judge, Jesus {217} emphasizes, by commending to his disciples, the Syrian habit of importuning. "I say unto you, though he will not rise and give him, because he is his friend, yet because of his importunity he will rise and give him as many as he needeth." Again, the Master gives dignity and elevation to the common customs of his people by using them as means of approach to high spiritual ideals, when he says, "And I say unto you, ask and it shall be given you; seek, and ye shall find; knock, and it shall be opened unto you." [1] Verses 16-23. {218} CHAPTER IV DELAYING THE DEPARTING GUEST The best rules of Syrian hospitality require that when a guest from a distant town makes it known what day he expects to take his leave, the host should do his best to trick his visitor into forgetfulness of the time set, or devise some other means to delay his departure as much as possible. On the day he wishes to depart, the wayfarer says to his host, "Your exceeding bounty has covered me, far above my head; may God perpetuate your house and prolong the lives of your dear ones. May He enable me some day to reward you for your boundless generosity. And now I who have been so immersed in the sea of your hospitality [_baher karamek_] beg you to permit me to depart." Then the host, confessing his unworthiness of such praise and manifesting great surprise at the sudden announcement, begs his guest to "take no thought of departing." The {219} guest insists that he "must go," even though he could stay. The host says, "Stay, I pray you [_betrajjak_], until you partake of our noon meal; then you may depart." After the noon meal the host says, "I beg you to consider that the day is already far spent, and your journey is long, and the road is dangerous for night travel. Tarry until the morrow, and then go." The same performance takes place on the morrow, and perhaps another morrow, until the guest prevails. In the nineteenth chapter of the Book of Judges, in the story of the Levite mentioned above, we have a fine example of a generous Syrian host. His words are so much like those I often heard spoken in Syria on such occasions that it makes me feel homesick to read them. The ancient Bethlehemite was entertaining his son-in-law, who had stayed with them three days, the traditional length of such a visit in the East. So the record says: "And it came to pass on the fourth day, when they arose early in the morning, that he rose up to depart: and the {220} damsel's father said unto his son-in-law, Comfort thine heart with a morsel of bread, and afterward go your way. And they sat down, and did eat and drink both of them together; for the damsel's father had said unto the man, Be content, I pray thee, and tarry all night, and let thine heart be merry. And when the man rose up to depart, his father-in-law urged him: therefore he lodged there again. And he rose early in the morning on the fifth day to depart: and the damsel's father said, Comfort thine heart, I pray thee. And they tarried until afternoon,[1] and they did eat both of them. And when the man rose up to depart, ... his father-in-law, the damsel's father, said unto him, Behold, now the day draweth toward evening, I pray you tarry all night: ... lodge here, that thine heart may be merry; and to morrow get you early on your way, that thou mayest go {221} home. But the man would not tarry that night, but he rose up and departed." When an honored guest takes his departure, as a mark of high regard his host walks with him out of town a distance the length of which is determined by the affectionate esteem in which the host holds his visitor. At times we walked for a whole hour with our departing guest, and desisted from going farther only at his most urgent request. So in the eighteenth chapter of the Book of Genesis we are told that Abraham's guests "rose up from thence, and looked toward Sodom: and Abraham went with them _to bring them on the way_." The English phrase, however, "to bring them on the way," falls far short of expressing the full meaning of the term _shy-ya'_. Pilgrimages to holy places and fraternal feasts--such as are enjoyed on betrothal occasions, weddings, baptisms of children, and great holidays--are practically the only occasions the common people of Syria have to bring them together. On such occasions the guests {222} are invited in families; therefore the number of those who come to the feast is never exactly known in advance. The food is served in large quantities, but not in such great variety as in the West. The table appointments are very simple. There are no flowers, no lace doilies, nor the brilliant and sometimes bewildering array of knives, forks, and spoons which grace an American host's table on such festive occasions. The guests sit close together on the floor, about low tables, or trays, and eat in a somewhat communistic fashion from comparatively few large dishes. If twenty guests are expected, and thirty come, they simply enlarge the circle, or squeeze closer together. Their sitting so close to one another makes the "breaking of bread together" for these friends more truly fraternal. In the third chapter of St. Mark's Gospel, the twentieth verse, the writer speaks of the large concourse of people who followed Jesus and his disciples into a certain house. He tells us that "the multitude cometh together again, so that they _could not so much as eat bread_." {223} The cross-reference in the Bible points to the sixth chapter of the same Gospel, the thirty-first verse, where it is said, "For there were many coming and going, and they _had no leisure so much as to eat_." My opinion is that the two occasions are not the same, therefore the reference is incorrect. The first passage alludes to the fact that although, owing to the very simple table appointments among the common people of Syria, only _little space_ is required for one to eat his dinner, the crowd was so dense that not even such space was available. The second passage points to the fact that the Master's audience was a stream of people "coming and going" so that _his disciples_ had not leisure enough to eat. The preceding verse and the first half of the verse just quoted say: "And the apostles gathered themselves together unto Jesus, and told him all things, both what they had done, and what they had taught. And he said unto them, Come ye yourselves apart into a desert place, and rest a while." The remainder of the verse gives the reason why Jesus {224} felt so concerned about his fatigued and hungry disciples, by saying, "For there were many coming and going, and they [the disciples] had no leisure so much as to eat." The Syrian feels satisfied even on ordinary occasions when he can secure one or two loaves of the thin bread he habitually eats, and a few olives, or some other modest delicacy, for what the Americans would call a "lunch." He needs neither a table nor even a "lunch counter" to facilitate his eating. He can perform that essential function sitting down on the floor with his legs folded under him, standing up, or even walking, as well as seated at a table. In view of all this there is no little significance in the saying of the Gospel writer, "And the multitude cometh together again, so that they _could not so much as eat bread_." In several places in the Gospels reference is made to Jesus' "sitting at meat."[2] The marginal note in the Revised Version gives the word "recline" as the real equivalent of the {225} original Greek term which is rendered "sit" in the text. This, no doubt, is correct, so far as the original text is concerned, but the reference is to a Greek and not to a Syrian custom. The Greeks were in the habit of reclining on couches while eating, and it is not at all improbable that certain wealthy Orientals imitated this custom in the time of Christ, as certain wealthy Syrian families of the present time imitate European customs. But I fail to find, either within my own experience, or in the traditions and literature of Syria, that reclining at the table was ever countenanced as at all a proper posture; certainly never among the common people of which the Master was one. To sit erect on the floor at the low table, with the legs either folded under the body, or thrown back as in the act of kneeling, is the seemly (_laiyik_) posture, which is ever sung in Arabic poetry. In this we were instructed from childhood. On unusual occasions, such as those of sorrow or great joy, friends might rest their heads on one another's shoulders, or breasts, as John did at the Last {226} Supper, but these are rare exceptions. Good breeding and "reverence for the food" require the sitting erect at meat. Certain commentators have found the reference to the habit of reclining at meat very serviceable in explaining Mary's act of anointing Jesus' feet with nard, as he sat at supper at her home in Bethany. In the twelfth chapter of the Gospel of John, the third verse, it is said: "Then took Mary a pound of ointment of spikenard, very costly, and anointed the feet of Jesus, and wiped his feet with her hair." A similar incident is mentioned also in the seventh chapter of Luke, the thirty-sixth and following verses:[3] "And one of the pharisees desired him that he would eat with him. And he entered into the pharisee's house, and sat down to meat. And behold, a woman which was in the city, a sinner; and when she knew that he was sitting at meat in the pharisee's house, she brought an alabaster cruse of ointment, and standing behind at his feet, weeping, she began to wet his {227} feet with her tears, and wiped them with the hair of her head, and kissed his feet, and anointed them with the ointment." The explanation is that it was convenient for the woman to wash and anoint Jesus' feet in this manner, because he was _reclining_ on a couch. What I am certain of is that the couch or any elevated seat is not at all necessary in such cases. Whenever an Oriental indulges in the practice of washing his feet he sits on the floor, as is his custom, and lifts the feet into the basin of water. This is the only way I ever knew in my old home, and it is no less effective than is the more "scientific" way of the West. King James's Version renders the passage a little more difficult by giving greater definiteness to the woman's position at Jesus' feet. While the Revised Version says, "And standing behind at his feet," the older Version says, "And stood behind _him_," etc. Yet even here the couch affords no greater advantage than the floor, because by folding the legs under the body, the feet are partially visible under the knee joints {228} and could be touched from behind, and in the case of a kneeling posture, the feet may be easily reached from that direction.[4] However, it should be borne in mind here that the real significance of the entire passage is to be found, not in the woman's physical but spiritual act. It was her spirit of love and devotion to the Master, and, in the case of her who was a "sinner," her profound repentance and deep humility in touching Jesus' feet in this manner, which immortalized her act in the Scriptures. To the Orientals the feet are unclean in a ceremonial sense; they are not "honorable" members of the body; therefore to touch them in an act of devotion marks the deepest depth of humility. It was in this sense that Jesus humbled himself as an example to his disciples by washing their feet. But objections may be made to the foregoing explanation on the ground that reclining at meat is mentioned in one of the most ancient books {229} in the Old Testament, and which cannot be ascribed to the influence of Greek thought. In the sixth chapter of the Book of Amos, the third and fourth verses, it is said, according to the Revised Version: "Ye that put far away the evil day, and cause the seat of violence to come near; that lie upon beds of ivory, and _stretch themselves upon their couches, and eat the lambs out of the flock, and the calves out of the stall_." To some writers there is here a direct reference to the habit of reclining on couches while eating. But a careful study of the passage will show that its construction does not warrant such a conclusion. The passage cannot be made to read, "Ye ... that stretch themselves upon their couches _and eat_." The Hebrew word _weaukhalim_ may mean, in this connection, "while eating," or, "and the eaters,"--those that eat. The rendering of the Arabic, which is a close kin of the Hebrew, is, "Ye ... who lie upon beds of ivory, and who are stretched on cushions [_fûrsh_], _and who eat lambs_," and so forth. Here it may easily be seen that the {230} passage gives the theory of reclining at meat no real support, and the table customs of Syria past and present oppose any effort to force the passage to yield such a meaning. In his scathing condemnation of those who rolled in luxury and forgot God and his people, the prophet mentioned contemptuously the ease and the feasting of those whose life should have been more productive of good. He might have said, "Ye who lie on couches, and sing idle songs, and drink wine," as fittingly as, "Ye who lie on couches, and who eat lambs and calves." [1] The more accurate rendering of this sentence in the Revised Version is, "And tarry ye until the day declineth." In the hot season a good excuse to delay a departing guest is to beg him to wait until the cool late afternoon, "The decline of the day [_assar_]." [2] Matt. xxvi: 7, 20; John xii: 2. [3] The Revised Version. [4] As has already been mentioned, the common people of Syria wear no shoes in the house. {231} CHAPTER V FAMILY FEASTS Of the feasts which are considered more strictly family affairs, I will speak of two which live in my memory clothed with romantic charms. The one is that which we enjoyed at the "killing of the sheep." As a rule every Syrian family fattens a sheep during the summer season. The housewife feeds the gentle animal by hand so many times during the day and so many during the night, until he is so fat that he "cannot rise from the ground." No person is expected to speak of this sheep or touch him without saying, "The blessing from God" (be upon the lamb). Oh, if I could but feel again the thrilling joy which was always mine when, as a small boy, I sat beside my mother and rolled the small "morsels" of mulberry and grape-leaves, dipped them in salted bran water, and handed them to my mother to feed the "blessed sheep"! {232} Early in the autumn came the time for "killing." Wherever my father was, he came home, for the father of the household must kill the sheep. As a rule the blood of the animal was shed upon the threshold--a custom which echoes the ancient Semitic practice of thus honoring the household god. Now, however, perhaps for sanitary reasons, the sheep is killed a short distance from the door. The solemnity of the act robbed it for us of its cruelty. On the day of "killing" we sharpened the knives, crushed the salt in the stone mortar, and fed the sheep only sparingly. As the day began to decline the animal was "led to the slaughter," and laid gently on the ground, as the ancient sacrifice was laid before the Lord. My father, holding with his left hand the animal's head, made the sign of the cross with the knife on the innocent throat, and, in the name of God, slew the sheep. The fact that many householders in a community "kill the sheep" on the same day makes the occasion a reproduction of the night of the {233} exodus from Egypt. In the twelfth chapter of the Book of Exodus, the third and sixth verses, Jehovah speaks to Moses concerning Israel, saying, "In the tenth day of this month they shall take to them every man a lamb, according to the house of their fathers, a lamb for an house.... And ye shall keep it up until the fourteenth day of the same month: and the whole assembly of the congregation of Israel shall kill it in the evening." With a few intimate friends we feasted at the killing of the sheep, and then cut the red meat in small pieces "the size of a fledgeling's head," fried it in the fat, and sealed it in glazed earthen jars for our winter use. The other most joyous feast was that of the _Marafeh_--the carnivals which precede the Great Lent. For about two weeks before Lent begins, the Christians of the East give themselves over to feasting. The dish which is a great favorite on this occasion is called _kibbey_. It is made of meat and crushed wheat. The meat is "beaten" in a stone mortar, with a {234} large wooden masher, until it is reduced to a very fine pulp. Then the crushed wheat, soaked in cold water, is mixed with the meat, together with a generous supply of spices and salt. The whole mixture is then "beaten" together so thoroughly that when rightly done it resembles a lump of dough. The writer of the Book of Proverbs, with characteristic Syrian intensity, alludes to the process of _kibbey_-making in one of his assaults upon "the fool." In the twenty-second verse of the twenty-seventh chapter he says, "Though thou shouldest bray a fool in a mortar among wheat with a pestle, yet will not his foolishness depart from him." Be that as it may, the craving of a Syrian for _kibbey_ (and I fully know whereof I speak) makes the craving of a Bostonian for baked beans and fish-balls for a Sunday breakfast pale into insignificance. During _Marafeh_ friends and neighbors feast together until the last night that precedes the beginning of Lent. The feast of that night is one {235} of family solemnity, upon which no outsiders may intrude. The members of the family come together to eat the last feast and drink their cup of wine before entering upon the solemn period of self-denial, fasting, and prayer. As at the ancient sacrificial feasts, all the members of the family must be present. It was this very custom which afforded Jonathan the excuse to send his beloved friend David away from King Saul's court, and thus save him from the murderous design which that monarch had against the son of Jesse. So it was when the suspicious Saul asked his son, "Wherefore cometh not the son of Jesse to meat, neither yesterday nor to-day?" Jonathan answered Saul, "David earnestly asked leave of me to go to Bethlehem: and he said, Let me go, I pray thee; for our family hath a sacrifice in the city; and my brother, he hath commanded me to be there."[1] On that solemnly joyous evening my mother spreads the feast, and with most tender and pious affections my parents call their sons and {236} daughters to surround the low table. My father pours the wine. To us all the cup is symbolic of sacred joy. Holding the cup in his hand, my father leans forward and says to my mother, "May God prolong your life and grant you the joy of many returns of this feast!" And to us, "May your lives be long; may we be granted to drink the cup at your weddings; may God grant you health and happiness and many future feasts!" We all answer, "May your drinking be health and happiness and length of days!" My mother, after wishing my father the blessings he wished for her, and imploring the Most High to bless and keep him "over our heads," drinks next. Then the wine is passed to every one of us. "Drink ye all of it" is my father's command; for who can tell whether the family circle shall remain unbroken until the Easter festival? Not a trace of the feast is kept in the house until the morrow. What is not eaten is burned or thrown away, for on the next day no meat, eggs, or milk is permitted to the faithful. Wine also is not supposed to be indulged in {237} during Lent, until the Easter bell heralds the tidings of the Resurrection. So did the Master speak to his disciples on the eve of his suffering. In the twenty-sixth chapter of St. Matthew's Gospel we read, "And he took the cup, and gave thanks, and gave it to them, saying, Drink ye all of it.... But I say unto you, I will not drink henceforth of this fruit of the vine, until that day when I drink it new with you in my Father's kingdom." Thus from the simplest conception of bread as a means to satisfy physical hunger to the loftiest mystic contemplation of it as a sacramental element, the Orientals have always eaten bread with a sense of sacredness. "Bread and salt," "bread and wine," "Christ the bread of life," "For we, being many, are one bread," "Give us this day our daily bread," these and other sayings current in the Bible and in Oriental speech all spring from the deepest life of the ancient East. And the sacredness of this common article of food has been of most inestimable value to {238} Oriental peoples. In the absence of other means of social cohesion, and the higher civil interests which bind men together, it has been a great blessing indeed to those much-divided Orientals to find peace and security in the simple saying, "There is bread and salt between us." [1] 1 Sam. xx: 27-29. {241} PART IV OUT IN THE OPEN CHAPTER I SHELTER AND HOME Some one has said that the ancient Israelites called God a "shelter" and a "refuge," and not a "home," because for the most part the Syrians lived out of doors. All the habitation an Israelite needed was a shelter from the storm and a refuge from the enemy. Hence the prayer of the Psalmist: "For thou hast been a shelter for me, and a strong tower from the enemy,"[1] and the prophecy of Isaiah, the fourth chapter and the sixth verse, according to the Revised Version: "And there shall be a pavilion for a shadow in the day-time from the heat, and for a refuge and for a covert from storm and from rain." The assertion that the Syrian, both ancient and modern, lives for the most part out of doors is substantially correct. The long and rainless summers, the almost exclusively agricultural {242} and pastoral life of the people, outside the few large cities, and the primitive modes of travel, enable the Syrian to live his life out in the open. His one-story house, consisting of one or two rooms very simply furnished, conveys the impression that it is only an emergency shelter. Yet that artless structure and the living "close to nature" have proved so agreeable and so satisfactory to the people of the East as to defy the forces of evolution. Certainly the continuance of that simple environment, "from age to age the same," indicates that in the universal scheme of things evolution is not altogether compulsory. Man can, if he chooses, stand still, and live somewhat comfortably by simply repeating the past. To the Oriental life is neither an evolution nor an achievement, but an inheritance. To his passive yet poetical mind the ancient landmarks possess enchanting sentimental value. The thought of the same modes of life linking fifty centuries together appeals powerfully to his imagination. It spells security, and establishes {243} confidence in the laws of being, at least to old age. However, it should not be inferred from the foregoing that the Syrian thinks lightly of his humble home. No; he is a passionate lover of it, and associates with it the deepest joys and sorrows of life. But he does not have for his abode the two designations "house" and "home," which prevail in the West. The Hebrew word _bayith_ and the Arabic _bait_ mean primarily a "shelter." The English equivalent is the word "house." The richer term, "home," has never been invented by the son of Palestine because he has always considered himself "a sojourner in the earth." His tent and his little house, therefore, were sufficient for a shelter for him and his dear ones during the earthly pilgrimage. The word which is translated "home" in about forty places in the English version of the Bible does not differ in the original from the word "house," which is found in about three thousand five hundred passages in the Bible. The terms "tent," "house," "place of residence," {244} and the phrases, "to go to his kindred," "to return to his place," etc., are all translated "home," and "go home." To the Oriental the word "house" is very precious. It means the place of safe retreat (malja). And it is this word which he uses in speaking of God as his protector. It means more than "shelter." It is a place of protection and comfort. The word "refuge" is a more suitable equivalent. In that contentious East we always thought of a safe refuge in time of trouble. Every family of the common people "belonged" to some powerful lord who was its refuge in time of danger. He was strong, rich, compassionate. He protected his own. How much stronger, richer, and more compassionate, therefore, is the Lord of Hosts! The needy and much terrified Oriental discovered long ago the frailty of all earthly shelters. The King of Kings and the Lord of Hosts was his never-failing refuge. The trustful contemplation of God as an ever-present helper has steadied the faltering steps of countless generations. "The {245} Lord is my rock, and my fortress, and my deliverer; my God, my strength, in whom I will trust; my buckler, and the horn[2] of my salvation, and my high tower."[3] "God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble. Therefore will not we fear, though the earth be removed, and though the mountains be carried into the midst of the sea."[4] Is it not really worth while to fear and to suffer, if by so doing one is brought so close to God? The writer of the one hundred and nineteenth Psalm had the world in his debt when he turned his inward vision toward the Most High and prayed:[5] "It is good for me that I have been afflicted; that I might learn thy statutes. The law of thy mouth is better unto me than thousands of gold and silver." And who can estimate the debt which humanity owes to the Sufferer of Calvary? [1] Ps. lxi: 3. [2] The "horn" symbolizes strength. [3] Ps. xviii: 2, 3. [4] Ps. xlvi: 1, 2. [5] Ps. cxix: 71, 72. {246} CHAPTER II RESIGNED TRAVELERS Traveling by the "Twentieth Century, Limited," is fast transit; but, excepting in case of a wreck, the trip is devoid of incident. The mechanical perfection of the conveyance, and the infallibility of the time-table reduce journeying to transportation. There is no girding of the loins, no pilgrim's staff, no salutations by the way and no wayfarer's song. The journey is not humanized by the tender care for the camel, the mule, and the ass, nor are the hunger and thirst satisfied by the breaking of bread beside the lonely springs of water. The terrors and triumphs of St. Paul in his "journeyings often, in perils of waters, in perils of robbers, in perils by mine own countrymen, in perils by the heathen, ... in weariness and painfulness, in watchings often, in hunger and thirst, ... in cold and nakedness,"[1] are all to the {247} modern Western traveler echoes of a remote past. But such are still the common experiences of the sons of the East. One of the heroic wedding songs which was much in vogue in my boyhood days was this (addressed to the bride): "Thy father, O beauteous one, journeyed to Damascus alone!" Previous to the introduction of the railway train, which now runs between Beyrout and Damascus, the journey from my home town to the latter city consumed two days. In those days, as is still the case in many parts of Syria, men traveled in large groups for mutual protection from the "hidden dangers of the way," and he who journeyed to the ancient city alone was proclaimed hero. My memories of the tales of adventure which I heard the men relate are very thrilling. Tales of encounters with robbers, battles with snakes and wild beasts, suffering from the insufficiency of "the food for the way" (_zad_) and the thirst occasioned by the early "failure," that is, the {248} drying up, of springs of water which had been thought to be still flowing. Only those who have traveled under such circumstances can fully appreciate the promise given in the fifty-eighth chapter of Isaiah, the eleventh verse, "And the Lord shall guide thee continually, and satisfy thy soul in drought, and make fat[2] thy bones: and thou shalt be like a watered garden, and like a spring of water, _whose waters fail not_." This recalls forcibly to my mind the occasions when in our travels in the late summer we would stand at the parting of two roads and wonder which one to take. The opinion of the more experienced men in the party, that the spring of water on one of those roads was likely to be dry in that season of the year, always turned our steps in the other direction. In that thirsty land such a possibility could not be safely ignored. In those long summer days, when the mouth of the traveler on the dusty roads of Syria "turns bitter from the thirst," the arrival {249} at a spring which had "failed" is almost a tragic experience. Hence it is that the "springs of water" are one of the precious promises of the Bible, and their failure was one of the fearful threats. It was indeed a call to his disciples to make the great renunciation when Jesus sent them out to preach the glad tidings of the kingdom which was "at hand," with the command, "Provide neither gold, nor silver, nor brass in your purses, nor scrip for your journey, neither two coats, neither shoes, nor yet staves."[3] So far as the comforts and protection that earthly things can give, those disciples were sent out perfectly helpless. The Master's programme for those disciples is just the antithesis of that which an ordinary Oriental traveler follows. No traveler in the interior of Syria ever starts out on a journey, be it short or long, without _zad_. True, Syrian generosity to a wayfarer is to be depended upon, but the traditions of the country are that self-respect requires that a {250} traveler shall provide himself with _zad_, and shall accept hospitality only as a last resort. The best etiquette requires that when a traveler is invited to another's table, he should take out his _zad_ and place it before him. The host, on the other hand, positively refuses to allow his chance guest to eat of his own _zad_. The host removes the _zad_ from the table, and either adds to it and gives it to the guest upon his departure or gives him a new _zad_. Without scrip, the traveler seems to himself to be utterly a dependent, a beggar, and not a guest. "Put up a few loaves for _zad_," is the first thing said when a person is about to start out on a journey. The thin loaves are folded into small bundles, which may contain such delicacies as ripe black olives, cheese, boiled eggs, and figs conserved in grape molasses, and wrapped up in a large napkin, which the traveler ties around his waist, with the bread on the back. The bread is often carried in a leather bag (_jerab_). This is the "scrip" and "wallet" of the Gospel command. On a long {251} journey, say of a day or more, the thin bread dries up and breaks into small pieces. A dry and crumby _zad_ indicates a long journey. The Gibeonites certainly "did work wilily" when they used their dry and broken bread as a means to deceive Joshua. Although they were Israel's near neighbors, by carrying dry crumbs in their bags and saying to Joshua upon their arrival at his camp, "This our bread we took hot for our provision out of our houses on the day we came forth to go unto you; but now, behold, it is dry, and it is mouldy,"[4] made him and "the princes of the congregation" believe that the wily travelers had come from a distant country. The English translation, however, by using the word "mouldy" introduces a foreign element into the text. In the dry climate of Palestine the bread does not get _mouldy_ on a journey, but it dries up and crumbles into small fragments, as every Syrian knows. The Arabic version has it, "This our bread ... is now dry and in crumbs [_fetat_]." {252} "Provide neither gold, nor silver, nor brass in your purses." The original text has "girdles" instead of "purses." While traveling in the East we always carried our money in the girdle and only a few coins in the purse. The girdle of the present day is a stout woolen or cotton belt, which is called, in the vernacular Arabic, _kummer_. It is worn under the sash, and the longest specimen of it measures about five feet. It is double to the length of about thirty inches. The two folds are very securely sewed together at the edge, and only a small opening provided near the buckle, through which the money is inserted. The double part, containing the money, is first fastened around the waist by means of a short leather buckle, then the single part is wound over it. It may be seen here that in case of an encounter with robbers, the money cannot be snatched from its owner until he is completely subdued by his antagonist. The common people of Syria speak of the _kummer_ as of a man's financial strength. There are practically no "bank accounts." "How is {253} the _kummer_?" means, "How do you stand financially?" To tap the _kummer_ cheerfully indicates good circumstances. It is joy and glory for a youth when he reaches the age when he may have a _kummer_. The thrill of satisfaction which that possession gives still lingers with me. It was as much of a sign of maturity and independence for me to tap that Scriptural girdle which I wore, when I had money in it, as to swear by my newly sprouting mustache. It was my treasure! From all this it may be noted that the Master's command, "Provide neither gold, nor silver, nor brass in your girdles," meant, not only to carry no money on their missionary journey, but to seek and _horde_ no money. An Oriental's girdle is his bank. The part of the command which says, "Neither two coats," means two changes of clothing. The thing sought here, however, as well as in the saying, "Neither shoes," is not the abandonment of the necessary wearing apparel, but willing self-denial. {254} "Nor yet staves." The staff, or the "stick of travel," is the symbol of journeying in Syria. There, _Elkeina el'asa_ (rested the staff) means we reached the end of our journey. _El'asa_ (staff) occupies a significant place in Syrian lore. It is difficult for me to imagine a Syrian starting on a journey without an _asa_. The Israelites were given explicit directions concerning their preparations for the journey on the eve of their exodus from Egypt. They were told[5] to eat the lamb of the passover "with your loins girded, your shoes on your feet, _and your staff in your hand_." In our travels in Syria the staff was to us a most valuable support in climbing the steep hills, crossing the streams of water, battling with snakes and ferocious dogs, and with highway robbers. "The staff is a companion" is a current saying in the land. The disciples were commanded in this manner to detach themselves from the material interests of this world, and to give themselves wholly to the preaching {255} of the kingdom. In their need and in their weakness they were to be rich and strong through their vision of the eternal realities. In the tenth chapter of St. Luke's Gospel, Jesus' commission to the disciples contains the command, "And salute no man by the way." It would seem strange, indeed, that those messengers of peace and good-will, who were being sent out to spread the leaven of friendliness and good cheer in the world, should be enjoined by their Master to salute no man by the way. But when it is known in what manner the Orientals salute one another on those weary journeys, the Gospel restriction will not seem so very strange. Wayfarers in the East do not content themselves with the severely brief Western salutation, "How d' you do; nice day," and then pass on. The Oriental salutation is a copious flow of soul, whose intimacy and inquisitiveness are quite strange to the mentality of the West. When the ways of two travelers converge, or the one overtakes the other, and they decide to _yatrafeko_ (be companion the one to the other) {256} and "wear away the road in friendly speech," the salutation runs as follows:-- "_Allah y'atek el'afieh_ [May God give you health and strength]." "_Allah y'afie imrak_ [May God refresh and strengthen your life]." "Whence has your excellent presence [_heth-retek_] come, and whither are you facing?" "From Nazareth have I come, and am facing towards Damascus." "What is the precious name?" "Your humble servant Mas'ud, son of Yusuf of the clan of Ayyub [Job]." "_Wann'am, wann'am_ [All honor, all honor]!" "_Wann'am_ to your excellent presence, and your respected clan!" "What are your years?" "My years, friend, are four and thirty." "May your life be long and happy!" "May Allah lengthen your days!" "What children have you?" (It is taken for granted that a man of that age has been long since married.) {257} "Three sons in the keeping of God." "Long life to them and health and happiness!" "What men does your clan count?" "We turn out _seb'een baroody_ [seventy shotguns]." "_Seb'een baroody_! Valiant men. What enemies have you in your native town?" "Our chief enemy is the clan of Haddad. They turn out one hundred _baroody_, but whenever the iron gets hot [that is, whenever a fight occurs] we shatter their forces." Thus the mutually complimentary conversation and the searching of hearts continue until each of the travelers is thoroughly informed concerning the personal, domestic, and social affairs of the other. The trade, the income, the profession, the cares and anxieties, and even the likes and dislikes of each are made known to the other before their ways part. Hence the Master's command, "Salute no man by the way." Surely the intention was not to be rude and unfriendly to fellow travelers, {258} but to be completely absorbed by the glorious message of the Gospel. The command was given because "the king's business required haste." Even an Oriental must quicken his pace when his mission is "to seek and to save that which was lost." [1] 2 Cor. xi: 26, 27. [2] The Arabic and the Revised Versions: "make strong." [3] Matt. x: 9, 10. [4] Joshua ix: 12. [5] Exod. xii: 11. {259} CHAPTER III THE MARKET PLACE I cannot think of the market place in the East without at the same time thinking of the camel caravan. In many parts of Syria, the arrival of the caravan makes the market. _El-habbet_ (the grain) is the chief commodity, and the camel is the chief carrier. In very recent years the railway train has to a certain extent taken from the camel his ancient occupation, but it has by no means completely supplanted the "ship of the desert." The coming of camel caravans from the "land of the east" to our Lebanon town, laden with the "blessed grain," is one of my most enchanted memories of outdoor life in Syria. The sight of a train of camels, with their curved necks bridging the spaces between them, suggests to the beholder an endless line. It is not at all surprising to me to read the assertion of the writer of the seventh chapter of the Book of {260} Judges, where he speaks of the Midianites and Amalekites, that "their camels were without number, as the sand of the sea-side for multitude." It seems to me that it does not require more than a train of one hundred camels to convey the idea of endlessness. At the first glimpse of the approaching caravan we boys would swarm to the _saha_ (the open space) of the town. There the caravan unloads, and awaits the buyers of wheat. It makes me long for my early years when I read in the twenty-fourth chapter of the Book of Genesis the story of Abraham's servant when he journeyed to Mesopotamia. "And the servant took ten camels of the camels of his master and departed.... And he made his camels to kneel down without the city by a well of water at the time of the evening, even the time that women go out to draw water." It is decidedly thrilling to hear the cameleer say, _ich, ich, i--ch--ch!_ and pull at the halter of his camel to make him "kneel." And, with a friendly roar, the great beast drops, first forward on his huge, thick, {261} hardened knees, then comes down on his haunches, and then, swaying in all directions, like an island shaken by an earthquake, rests his enormous body on the ground. "At the time of the evening [in the late afternoon], even the time that women go out to draw water," the camels are led to the fountains to be watered. The ancient writer's reference to "the time that women go out to draw water" is to a Syrian as definite as the reference to a Swiss clock. _Wakket elmeliah_ (the time to fill the jars) is in the early morning and the late afternoon. For obvious reasons the women choose the "cool of the day" for carrying their heavy jars of water from the fountain to the house. The Syrian women have faithfully kept this custom from before the days of Abraham. And it is in the cool of the day that the cameleers also deem it best to water their precious animals. The women always view this event with disfavor. The thirsty camels completely drain the pond into which the surplus water of the slender fountain flows, and which the {262} housewives put to other household uses than drinking. No doubt the ancient Israelitish women in certain sections of Palestine grumbled when the cameleers drew heavily out of the wells on which the home-makers depended entirely for their water supply. But to us boys the occasion was festive. By bribing the cameleers with gifts of grapes, figs, raisins, or any other sweets, for which the craving of the Bedouins is proverbial, we were allowed to mount the camels and lead them to the water. It may be true, as some scholars assert, that the swaying walk of the camel first quickened the measured song of the Arab, but my first camel ride was anything but poetical. I had, upon the arrival of the caravan, smuggled from our store of raisins two large pocketfuls, the one with which to bribe the Bedouin to give me a ride, the other to eat while on the camel's back, like a gay rider. As I climbed confidently on the wooden saddle of the kneeling beast, the Arab, who was already devouring the raisins, stems and all, by the handful, gave {263} the familiar signal, _tshew, tshew_, and instantly the thirsty camel rose and flew toward the fountain. I felt as if my brain was being torn off its base. I lost the sense of direction, and seemed to myself to be suspended between earth and heaven, tossed by violent winds. I screamed; but the Bedouin would not let me down until I promised him the other pocketful of raisins. In Syria the _sûk_ (market place) is more than a place of exchange of commodities. It is rather an occasion of varied business and social interests. The Oriental knows no business without sociability. His _dekkan_ (store) is a gathering-place for friends, and a business transaction with him, especially in the interior of the country, is almost always preceded by a friendly visit with the customer. So the market is a place where the dignitaries of the town meet and exchange salutations and discuss various interests. The social nature of such occasions is indicated in Jesus' warning to his disciples, "Beware of the scribes, which love to go in long clothing, and _love salutations in the {264} marketplaces_."[1] Apparently those teachers of Israel were very frequent visitors at the markets, where men of all classes paid them the homage which their calling, if not their person, merited. In the past the Arab markets were also significant conventions of literary men, especially poets. Discussions of all sorts of subjects are carried on at the market. So it was in Athens in Paul's time, where he "disputed ... in the market daily with them that met with him."[2] And, of course, the children love to gather in the market place, play their pranks, and watch the interesting activities of their elders. It was to such a crowd of youngsters that Jesus likened the fickle and peevish men of his time. In the eleventh chapter of St. Matthew's Gospel, the sixteenth verse, he says, "But whereunto shall I liken this generation? It is like unto children sitting in the markets, and calling unto their fellows, and saying, We have piped unto you, and ye have not danced; we have mourned unto you, and ye have not lamented." {265} To my youthful mind the chief charm of the market place was the _keyyal_ (measurer). The strong man who measured the wheat will live in my memory as long as life endures. He it is who gives the "good measure, pressed down, shaken together, running over." In Syria the custom is that every measure must run over. Friendship must forever be mixed with business. Liquid measures, also, of such things as milk and oil, must run over a little into the vessel of the buyer, for "with what measure ye mete, it shall be measured to you again."[3] After the price has been agreed upon, the sturdy cameleer spreads his ample cloak on the ground and pours the golden grain in a heap upon it. The _keyyal_ kneels by the little hillock of wheat, and, naming the Holy Name, thrusts the _midd_ (a wooden measure) into the precious wheat. The grain is sacred; therefore, the language of the _keyyal_ must be pious. As he tosses the first measure into the buyer's bag, or the skirt of his cloak, he says, "Blessing!" that {266} means "One"; "From God" means "Two." Then the counting is continued in the ordinary language--three, four, and so on. After it is first thrust into the heap of wheat, the _midd_, about half full, is whirled around on its bottom, lifted slightly from the ground and dropped several times. The _keyyal_, constantly repeating the number of the _midds_ he has already measured, "lest he forget," pours the wheat into the measure with his hands, packs it down with his palms, and all his strength. He whirls the _midd_ round again, shakes it, presses it, and again heaps the wheat, pyramid-like, above the rim. The circular shower of the golden grain falls gently over the edges. The artful _keyyal_ pours small handfuls of wheat with his right hand into his left, which is formed into a funnel over the apex of the heaped _midd_, until the point is "as sharp as a needle's." Then with swift deftness, which elicits the admiration of the spectators, he lifts the heaped measure and tosses it into the bag, without allowing a single grain to fall outside. {267} With what telling effect and rich simplicity does the Master allude to this custom of measuring grain in the Eastern markets. In the sixth chapter of St. Luke's Gospel, the command and the promise are, "Give, and it shall be given unto you; good measure, pressed down, and shaken together, and running over, shall men give into your bosom." But the word "bosom" here somewhat weakens the sense of the text. I do not know why the English translators used it in place of the original word "lap." The Oriental does not carry grain in his _bosom_, but in the skirt of his ample garments, much as a woman carries things in the fold of her apron. Again the word "lap" is used here in another and a more significant sense. It is the symbol of plentifulness; just as the "bosom" is the symbol of affection. The generous measure, even though it be poured into one's bag, as a _blessing_, may be said to be given into his _lap_. Here again, as in many other Scriptural passages, Jesus gives the ideal spiritual touch to the common things of life. Here an ordinary {268} act is made the symbol of the fullness of the spiritual life. He whose life is like the divine Parent's life--a perpetual outgoing and an everlasting gift--shall never lack anything. Men will be taught by his generosity how to be generous themselves, and the divine Giver will give him of the fullness of his own life. There is no void which the divine life cannot fill, no need which it cannot meet, and no hunger which it cannot satisfy. [1] Mark xii: 38. [2] Acts xvii: 17. [3] Matt. vii: 2. {269} CHAPTER IV THE HOUSETOP While a caravan of camels needs no other means than its own majestic appearance to herald its arrival into a town, muleteer merchants shout their wares from the housetop. Upon the arrival of a muleteer into the _saha_ of the town with a load of lentils, potatoes, apricots, or any other commodity, he "drops the load" from the animal's back onto the ground, and goes upon the roof of the nearest house and proclaims his wares at the top of his voice, in prolonged strains. To reach the flat earthen roof of the one-story Syrian house needs no extension ladder. It is so easily and quickly reached by the few rough stone steps in the rear of the house that Jesus, in speaking of the incredibly swift coming of the "end" in the twenty-fourth chapter in St. Matthew's Gospel, says, "Let him which is on the housetop not come down to take any thing out of his {270} house." So sudden was to be the consummation of the Eternal's design, "because iniquity shall abound, and the love of many shall wax cold," that even the short distance between the housetop and the ground could not be safely traversed by those who cared for earthly possessions. The ease with which the roof of an ordinary Syrian house is reached accounts also for the carrying of the man who was "sick of the palsy" upon the housetop. The account in the second chapter of St. Mark's Gospel, the third and fourth verses, runs, "And they came unto him, bringing one sick of the palsy, which was borne of four. And when they could not come nigh unto him for the press, they uncovered the roof where he was; and when they had broken it up [the Arabic, "broken through"], they let down the bed wherein the sick of the palsy lay." This account describes perfectly the process of making an opening in a Syrian roof. In St. Luke's Gospel, however, the statement {271} is:[1] "And when they could not find by what way they might bring him in because of the multitude, they went upon the housetop, and let him down through the _tiling_ with his _couch_ into the midst before Jesus." The coloring here is decidedly Roman and not Syrian. The writer of Luke was a Latin Christian. He related the incident in terms which were easily understood by his own people. The Syrians never covered their roof with tiles nor slept on couches. Mark's account speaks of uncovering the _roof_ and letting down the _bed_. The Syrian roof is constructed as follows: The main timbers which carry the roof covering are laid across, horizontally, at intervals of about two to three feet. Crosswise over the timbers are laid the _khasheb_ (sticks long enough to bridge the spaces between) quite close together. Over the _khasheb_ reeds and branches of trees and thistles are laid, and the whole is covered with about twelve inches of earth. The dirt is rolled down by a stone roller and made hard enough to {272} "shed water." In many houses during the summer season an opening, called _qafa'a_, is made in the roof for the purpose of letting down the grain and other provisions which are dried in the sun on the housetop. The space between the timbers admits easily the large basket called _sell_, which is as big around as a bushel basket. Now, those who let down the palsied man either made an entirely new opening in the roof, or simply extended the _qafa'a_ enough to admit the unfortunate man in his folded quilt or thick cushion, tied by the four corners. And it was this which Jesus commanded him to carry, when he said to him, "Arise, and take up thy bed, and walk." From the foregoing it may be seen that a couch could not have been so easily let down through the roof, nor _carried_ by the newly healed man. Sleeping on the housetop in the summer season is an Oriental custom the advantage of which the Occident has just "discovered." To use the roofs of high buildings in American cities as sleeping quarters is a "new" suggestion of {273} that genius known as the "social reformer." To the ancient East, "there is nothing new under the sun." However, to dwell on the housetop is an expression which symbolizes desolation. Nevertheless the writer of Proverbs says:[2] "It is better to _dwell_ in a corner of the housetop, than with a brawling woman in a wide house." From the housetop the muleteer merchant shouts his wares; from the housetop men call one another for various purposes; from the housetop the _nowateer_ (men appointed by the municipality to watch the vineyards) proclaim the names of trespassers; and from that elevation the special orders of the governor of the district are proclaimed to the populace. By night or by day, whenever we heard a voice calling from a housetop, we instinctively listened most intently in order to catch the message. The voice of the crier is so much like a distant, prolonged railway whistle that in my first few years in America, whenever I heard {274} such a sound, especially in the night, I listened involuntarily, expecting to hear a message. How often must Jesus have heard the free and full voice of the crier from the housetop! How it must have appealed to him as the very antithesis of the whisperings of fear, cowardice, and doubt, may be realized from his command to his disciples. In the tenth chapter of St. Matthew's Gospel we read Christianity's declaration of independence. Here the antagonism of the world is portrayed with complete fullness. "Behold, I send you forth as sheep in the midst of wolves." "Ye shall be hated of all men for my name's sake." "Fear them not ... for there is nothing covered, that shall not be revealed; and hid, that shall not be known." In the face of all hatred and danger and death the Master's command to those who carried the world-transcending message, the supreme treasure of time and eternity, was, "What I tell you in darkness, that speak ye in light: and what ye hear in the ear, that preach ye upon the housetop." {275} In the rainless Syrian summer the housetop is used for various household purposes. The grass which grows on the earthen roof, especially on its thick edges, withers early in the season. To this the Scripture alludes in several places where it speaks of the enemies of Israel as being "like the grass upon the housetops, which withereth afore it groweth up." In some cases the whole roof is plastered with clay mortar and used for drying grain, fruits, and vegetables. Also in the summer season the housetop is used for holding wedding festivities and funeral gatherings, which almost all the adult inhabitants of the town are supposed to attend. With solemn brevity does the prophet Jeremiah refer to this custom in the forty-eighth chapter, and the thirty-eighth verse. The more accurate rendering of the Revised Version is: "_On all the housetops_ of Moab and in the streets thereof there is lamentation every where." The custom of praying on the housetop, which has come down from the time when the Syrians worshiped the "hosts of heaven," still {276} survives in the East. In the first chapter of the Book which bears his name, the prophet Zephaniah threatens with the awful retribution of Jehovah those who indulged in this practice. "I will also stretch out mine hand upon Judah, and upon all the inhabitants of Jerusalem; and I will cut off the remnant of Baal from this place ... and _them that worship the host of heaven upon the housetops_." This custom survives in Syria, although much less extensively than in the past, and it is "the God of the whole earth" that is worshiped, and not the host of heaven. With much reverential regard I still remember an old neighbor of ours, a devout Maronite, a man who really feared God and worked righteousness, whose habit was to say his evening prayer upon the housetop. Of all the rich treasures of our Scriptures, few perhaps are more precious and dearer to Christian hearts than the record of Peter's vision while in the city of Joppa, and which is so intimately associated with that low, flat, earthen Syrian roof. The tenth chapter of the Book of {277} Acts hints at the broader and more profound spirit which had begun to agitate the inner life of the "very small remnant" of expectant souls in Israel. The wider horizon which the Christ of God had revealed to his Jewish disciples had engendered serious doubts in their minds with regard to the exclusive claims of Judaism to the blessings of the Messianic kingdom. The spirit of the Beatitudes and the Parables was resistlessly pressing the claims of all the eager Gentiles to a share in those blessings. No doubt the soul of Peter, the ultra-conservative disciple, was rent in twain and wavered in its allegiance between the old claims of a "chosen people" and the new vision of a universal kingdom founded on purity of heart and hunger and thirst after righteousness. It would seem that while in such a state of mind, and after the Oriental custom, "Peter went up upon the housetop to pray about the sixth hour;[3] and he became very hungry, and {278} would have eaten: but while they made ready, he fell into a trance, and saw heaven opened, and a certain vessel descending unto him, as it had been a great sheet knit at the four corners, and let down to the earth; wherein were all manner of four-footed beasts of the earth, and wild beasts, and creeping things, and fowls of the air. And there came a voice to him, Rise, Peter; kill, and eat. But Peter said, Not so, Lord; for I have never eaten any thing that is common or unclean. And the voice spake unto him the second time, What God hath cleansed, that call not thou common." Peter obeyed. That Oriental, who was not afraid of the mystic revelations of God's designs took the lesson to heart. Presently we see this conservative Jew again at the home of Cornelius, the Roman, and hear him interpret his own vision. "Of a truth," he said to the Roman soldier, "I perceive that God is no {279} respecter of persons: but in every nation he that feareth him, and worketh righteousness, is accepted with him." Here we have the sure basis of Christian unity and the unshaken foundation of a human commonwealth. "Other foundation can no man lay." When all the sects and nations who profess to be the followers of Jesus Christ respond to this Scriptural summons, and give decent burial to their divisive creeds, however "authoritative" they might think them to be, then will the world have valid reason to expect swords to be beaten into ploughshares, and to hope for the coming of God's kingdom upon the earth. [1] Luke v: 19., [2] Prov. xxi: 9. [3] The noon hour, according to Oriental calculation: Timepieces are set at twelve, at sunset. Six o'clock is the hour of midnight and midday. The time kept by Western peoples is known in Syria as _affrenje_. So the laborers who came to work at "the eleventh hour," as it is mentioned in Matthew, the twentieth chapter, and the ninth verse, came one hour before sunset. {280} CHAPTER V THE VINEYARDS AND THE FIELDS From time immemorial the vine and the fig tree have been the Oriental's chief joy. Together with their actual value they possessed for him a sacred symbolic value, especially the vine. The fullness and sweetness of their fruits symbolized the joys of the kingdom of heaven. The mystery of the wine cup, which the world has so sadly vulgarized, remains very sacred to the Oriental. Christ used "the fruit of the vine," or, as the Arabic version has it, the _yield_ of the vine,--meaning the wine, and not grapes,--as the visible means of spiritual communion. In the fifteenth chapter of St. John's Gospel the Master says, "I am the vine, ye are the branches." This usage was no doubt extant in the East before Christ. The vine, as a symbol of spiritual as well as physical family unity, is spoken of in the Old Testament. Israel's was Jehovah's vine. "Thou hast brought a vine out of Egypt" is the {281} plaintive cry of the writer of the eightieth Psalm: "thou hast cast out the heathen, and planted it. Thou preparest room before it, and didst cause it to take deep root, and it filled the land.... Return, we beseech thee, O God of hosts: look down from heaven, and behold, and visit this vine; and the vineyard which thy right hand hath planted." We always thought and spoke of the Church as "the vine which God has planted." The chanting of the foregoing words of the Psalmist by our priest of the Greek Orthodox Church, with his hand uplifted over the solemnly silent congregation, remains one of the most beautiful memories of my youth. We spoke also of the family as a vine. One of the tenderest passages in the whole Bible is the third verse of the one hundred and twenty-eighth Psalm: "Thy wife shall be as a fruitful vine by the sides of thine house: thy children like olive plants round about thy table." "They shall sit every man under his vine and under his fig tree; and none shall make them {282} afraid,"[1] is Micah's vision of peace and security. To a Syrian in America the reading of this passage is strongly conducive to homesickness. To sit in the luxuriant shade of the fig tree was a daily blessing to us in the summer season. It must have been in that season of the year that Jesus first met Nathanael. In the first chapter of St. John's Gospel we read: "Jesus saw Nathanael coming to him, and saith of him, Behold an Israelite indeed, in whom is no guile! Nathanael saith unto him, Whence knowest thou me? Jesus answered and said unto him, Before that Philip called thee, _when thou wast under the fig tree, I saw thee_." I have no doubt that Nathanael's habit of sitting under the fig tree was one of the characteristics which made him "an Israelite indeed." The wine press is an ancient landmark in Syrian life, and one of the most picturesque features of the Scriptures. The word "press" is likely to be misleading in this mechanical age. The grapes are not _pressed_ by any mechanical {283} contrivance, but are trodden with the feet. Therefore, to the Orientals the wine press is _ma'sara_ (squeezing place). The grapes are thrown in a heap in a stone-flagged enclosure about the size of an ordinary room, and trodden by the men in their bare feet. Much gayety characterizes the _ma'sara_ season. The work is carried on day and night until all the grapes which had been gathered by the various families for the _ma'sara_ are converted into wine and molasses. The quaint songs and stories which I always loved to hear the "treaders" exchange, as they walked back and forth over the grapes, come to me now like the echoes of a remote past. And as I recall how at the end of a long "treading" those men came out with their garments spattered with the rich juice of the grapes of Lebanon, the words of Isaiah--"Wherefore art thou red in thine apparel, and thy garments _like him that treadeth the wine fat_?"[2]--breathe real life for me. But in this age of rampant microbiology I {284} introduce this subject with at least an implied apology. The picture of men treading grapes in this manner and under such circumstances will not, I fear, appeal strongly to the æsthetic sense of my readers. Nevertheless, all the Scriptural wine, including the cup of the Last Supper, was produced in this way. To the Orientals the mystic fermentation and the fire purify the juice of the vine. The precious juice runs from the wide, stone-flagged enclosure into deep wells, where it is allowed to become _rawook_ (clear juice). The fresh _rawook_ is considered a delicious drink. One of Job's bitter complaints against those who oppressed the poor was that those unfortunates were made to "tread the wine presses, and _suffer thirst_."[3] Having been allowed thoroughly to settle, the juice is then heated according as to whether the wine is to be "sweet" or "bitter." The longer the juice is boiled the sweeter the wine. Sweet wine is called _khemer niswani_ (woman wine); the men, as a rule, preferring the "bitter" wine. In {285} making molasses of the grape juice, fine white clay is scattered over the grapes before they are trodden, in order to hasten and insure a perfect settling of all the coarse organic matter while the juice is in the "clearing wells." I often wonder whether it is because the memories of youth grow more romantic with the passing of the years, that the agricultural life of the Orient seems to me more poetical than that of the Occident, or whether it really is more enchanting. It seems to me that tools possess more charms than machinery does, and handwork of the more instinctive type is much more interesting than the carefully studied and designed task. The life of the American farmer is too intelligent to be romantic. There is so much in him of the agricultural college and the farm journal. No awful mysteries haunt his scientifically treated fields. Insect powders and the daily weather report and the market "quotations" arm him with forethought, and make of him a speculating merchant. The constant {286} improvements of agricultural implements place a wide and ever-widening gulf between the American farmer and his forefathers. Not so with the Syrian farmer. To this man life is not an evolution, but an inheritance. If the men who tilled Abraham's fields in Hebron should rise from the dead to-day, they would find that the four thousand years of their absence from the earth had effected no essential changes in the methods and means of farming in the "land of promise." They would lay their hand to the plough and proceed to perform their daily tasks, as though nothing had happened. A very few European ploughs are being tried in certain sections of Syria, but that is all. The Syrian sower goes forth to sow with his long, primitive plough on his right shoulder, the yoke hanging from the left shoulder and the leather bag of seed strapped to his back. In his left hand he carries his long, hard, strong goad--the same as the one with which "Shamgar, son of Anath, slew of the Philistines six hundred men." Through this simple instrument he keeps {287} in touch with his pair of oxen, or cows, which pace leisurely before him. The plough, which consists of two wooden beams joined together, measures about twelve feet in length. The quantity of wood in the Syrian plough makes plain the meaning of the passage in the story of the prophet Elisha, son of Shaphat. In the nineteenth chapter of the First Book of Kings, the nineteenth verse, we have the account of Elijah's first meeting with his successor Elisha, when he was ploughing in the field, "with twelve yoke of oxen before him, and he with the twelfth." So, when Elijah cast his mantle upon him, the son of Shaphat "took a yoke of oxen, and slew them, _and boiled their flesh with the instruments of the oxen_, and gave unto the people, and they did eat. Then he arose, and went after Elijah, and ministered unto him." At the forward end the long plough is hooked to the yoke, and at the rear end joined to a cross-piece, whose upper extremity forms the _cabousa_ (handle); and the lower holds the iron ploughshare. When he puts "his hand to the {288} plough," he simply grasps the _cabousa_ with his right hand while he wields the goad with his left. The uneven, stony ground and the lightness of the plough compel him to maintain a firm hold on it, and to look ever _forward_. In the ninth chapter of St. Luke's Gospel, the sixty-second verse, Jesus makes excellent use of this point when he says, "No man, having put his hand to the plough, and _looking back_, is fit for the kingdom of God." The parable of the sower, in the thirteenth chapter of St. Matthew's Gospel, is a faithful picture of the environment of the farmer in the region of Galilee and Mount Lebanon. That primitive farmer does not sow his seed by means of "drills" in symmetrical rows. Out of his leathern seed bag he takes generous handfuls of grain and, "in the name of the bounteous God," he casts the blessed seed into the soil, and then "covers it" by ploughing. The bridle paths which wind through the fields, and the still narrower footpaths which the wayfarers make through those fields every season in {289} taking "short cuts" on their weary journeys, provide ample chance for "some seeds" to fall "by the wayside," and be devoured by the fowls of the air. In certain sections of the country where I was brought up the "stony places" are the rule and the "good ground" the exception. So the seeds which "fell upon stony places" came up quickly "because they had no deepness of earth; and when the sun was up, they were scorched." There is another reason for this than the shallowness of the soil. The almost utter lack of rain in that country from April to October leaves no chance for seed cast into shallow soil to live long. "And some fell among the thorns; and the thorns sprang up, and choked them." For this the Syrian farmer himself is largely to blame. He preserves the thorns for cattle feed and for fuel. Certain kinds of thorns, especially _bellan_, are used as fuel for summer cooking, which is done out of doors, and for baking at the _tennûr_.[4] Other thorns are harvested, after the barley and {290} wheat harvests, threshed, and stored for winter feed. In the sixth verse of the seventh chapter of the Book of Ecclesiastes the writer says, "For as the crackling of thorns under a pot, so is the laughter of the fool." The threshing of thorns is referred to in the Book of Judges,[5] where it says, "When the Lord hath delivered Zabah and Zalmunna into mine hand, then I will tear your flesh with the thorns of the wilderness and with briers." But here again the English translation fails to give an exact rendering of the text, although the marginal note replaces the word "tears" by the word "thresh." The Arabic version says, "I will _thresh_ your flesh with the thorns and briers of the wilderness _with the threshing boards_," which is an exact picture of the treading of the oxen as they drag the threshing board over the thorns upon the threshing floor. When a boy it was a great delight to me to wander in the wheatfields when the grain had just passed the "milk stage" and had begun to {291} mature and harden. It is then called _fereek_, and is delicious to eat, either raw or roasted. I could subsist a whole day by plucking the heads of wheat, rubbing them in my hand and eating the fat, soft, fragrant grain. From time immemorial wayfarers in the East have been allowed to trespass in this manner, provided they carried no more grain away than that which they ate. In the twenty-fifth verse of the twenty-third chapter of the Book of Deuteronomy the reading of the Revised Version is, "When thou comest into thy neighbor's standing corn, then thou mayest pluck the ears with thine hand; but thou shalt not move a sickle unto thy neighbor's standing corn." It was the indulgence in this practice by the disciples, on the Sabbath, which formed the basis of the Pharisees' protest to Jesus to the effect that his followers dishonored the sacred day. In the sixth chapter of St. Luke's Gospel, the first verse, the Revised Version rendering of the text is, "Now it came to pass on a sabbath, that he was going through the grainfields and his disciples plucked the {292} ears, and did eat, rubbing them in their hands." The protest of the guardians of Israel's law, and Jesus' answer in the verses which follow, give us another revelation of the Master's central thought and motive as a religious teacher; namely, that man's legitimate needs take precedence of all ecclesiastical formalities. I do not believe any account of agricultural life in Syria should omit mentioning the plague which above all others strikes terror into the heart of the Eastern tiller of the soil. In his prayer at the dedication of the temple, Solomon mentions "blasting, mildew, locust, and caterpillar."[6] Of all those unwelcome visitors, the locusts are the most abhorred. I will give my impression of this pest in a quotation from my autobiography:[7] One of the never-to-be-forgotten phenomena of my early years, a spectacle which the most extravagantly imaginative American mind cannot picture, was the coming of the locusts into our part of the country. If my memory serves me well, I was about twelve years old when my father {293} and all his men, together with all the male population over fifteen, were impressed by the governor of our district to fight the devastating hosts of Oriental locusts. No one who has not seen such a spectacle and the desolation those winged creatures leave behind them can appreciate in the least degree the force of the saying of "The Lord God of the Hebrews" to Pharaoh, "If thou refuse to let my people go, behold, to-morrow I will bring the locusts into thy coasts."[8] For a few weeks before they deluged our district the news came with the caravans that the locusts were sweeping toward our region from the "land of the south." We youngsters did not know why our elders were so terror-stricken when they heard of it, until the scourge had come and gone. It was a few weeks before the time of the harvest when the clouds of locusts enveloped our community. They hid the sun with their greenish-yellow wings, covered the trees and the ground, the walls and roofs of the houses, and dashed in our faces like flakes of snow driven by the wind. The utter hopelessness of the task which confronted our people and seemed to unite all classes in despair, assumed in my sight a very comic aspect, and converted the calamity into a holiday. It was so amusing to me to see our sedate aristocrats and old men and women join the youth {294} and the common laborers in shouting, beating on tin cans, firing muskets, setting brush on fire, striking at the cursed insects with their hands, stamping them with their feet, and praying God to send "a strong wind" to drive the enemy of man away. Every _mutekellif_ (payer of the toll-tax) had to fight the locusts for so many days or hire a substitute, I do not clearly remember whether it was the beating on tin cans and howling of the people or the prayed-for "strong wind" that drove the merry locusts away. What I do remember is that when they did go away they left the land almost stripped clean of every green thing. It was no vain threatening when the writer of Deuteronomy warned Israel, saying, "If thou wilt not hearken unto the voice of the Lord thy God,, to observe to do all his commandments.... All thy trees and fruit of thy land shall the locust consume."[9] [1] Mic. iv: 4. [2] Is. lxiii: 2. [3] Job xxiv: 11. [4] See page 201. [5] Judges viii: 7. [6] 1 Kings viii: 37. [7] _A Far Journey_, page 109, etc. [8] Exod. x: 40. [9] Deut. xxvii: 15, 42. {295} CHAPTER VI THE SHEPHERD "I am the good shepherd" is one of Jesus' most tender, most compassionate sayings. The first sixteen verses of the tenth chapter of St. John's Gospel, from which this saying comes, should be joined to the twenty-third Psalm. Notwithstanding the fact that John's words are tinged with Greek thought, as descriptive of shepherd life in the East, those two portions of Scripture belong together. The various phases of shepherd life in Syria are indelibly printed in my memory. Our mountain village home was situated on the upper slope of a rather steep hill, at the base of which a thin stream flowed over its rocky bed. Across the narrow ravine, on the lower slope of another hill, just opposite our home, there were three sheep and goat folds. There for years I watched the shepherds and their flocks go out and come in, morning and evening, from early {296} spring until late autumn, when the shepherds dismantled the folds by removing their thorny fences, pulled down their rude bowers, and led their flocks to the "lowlands," where they spent the short winter season. The wailing of Isaiah, in the twelfth verse of the thirty-eighth chapter (Revised Version), "My dwelling is removed and is carried away from me as a shepherd's tent," reminds me very strongly of the easy removal and complete disappearance of that temporary shelter, which I so often saw torn down and carried away. While at work in the fields cutting stone for my father's building operations in various parts of Mount Lebanon, the shepherds were all around us. In those days I watched the shepherd lead his flock "into the waters of rest," or the restful, refreshing waters, which the English version renders "still waters." I watched him as, by inarticulate, deep, guttural sounds, whistling, certain characteristic words which the flock seemed to understand, and the flinging of pebbles or "smooth stones," such as those {297} with which David smote Goliath, he guided, I might say invited, the "blessed creatures," into every nook and corner among the rocks where there was pasture. It was this solicitous watchfulness of the shepherd which the writer of the twenty-third Psalm had in mind when he said, "The Lord is my shepherd, _I shall not want_." In the heat of the day the shepherd made his flock "to lie down" in the pasture ground, and the "blessed ones," as the shepherd always calls his sheep and goats, would fold their nimble legs and lie down, singly and in small groups, a surpassing picture of contentment, trustfulness, and peace. They seemed to realize that although they were in the wilderness they had nothing to fear. For the loving shepherd, with his strong and heavy staff, was in their midst to ward off all danger from them. The opening verses of the tenth chapter of the Gospel of John contain most significant allusions to the sheepfold. "Verily, verily, I say unto you, He that entereth not by the door into the sheepfold, but climbeth up some other {298} way, the same is a thief and a robber." Here the reference is to the fold of the dry season, such as those I have already mentioned. The winter sheepfold is a roofed stone hovel called _merah_. It has one low door and no windows; therefore, by climbing up the fold, "some other way" the robber could secure no booty. The roofless fold is called _hedherah_ and is built of rough stones (such as are used in New England stone fences) to the height of five feet. Above the stone construction rises a high _seyaj_ (hedge) of thorny branches, securely fastened between the stones. It is this hedge which is especially designed to prevent the "thief and robber" from climbing into the sheepfold. "But he that entereth in by the door is the shepherd of the sheep. To him the porter openeth; and the sheep hear his voice: and he calleth his own sheep by name, and leadeth them out." The shepherd's rude tent is located near the door. There also his faithful dog lies. The word "porter" in the text refers more, perhaps, to a Greek than Syrian custom. However, in case of {299} large flocks, the under-shepherd, or the "helper," who guards the door, answers to the "porter." The calling of the sheep or goats by name should not be taken literally. The animals are not named as persons are. The shepherd _knows_ all the members of his flock by certain individual characteristics, and realizes the fact quickly when one of them is lost. The more prominent ones are given adjectival names, such as the "pure white," the "striped," the "black," the "brown," the "gray-eared," etc. But it should be borne in mind that the saying, "And he calleth his own sheep by name, and leadeth them out," indicates the tender love of the shepherd for his flock, but not that the animals answer to their names. They are never trained to do that. He "leadeth them out," not by calling their names, but by giving certain sounds which they recognize. "And when he putteth forth his own sheep, he goeth before them, and the sheep follow him: for they know his voice." I find that the strong emphasis which commentators in general place {300} upon the shepherd's going _before_ the flock carries the impression that he does so _invariably_. So far as I know, this is not absolutely correct. _As a rule_, the shepherd goes before the flock, but not infrequently he is seen behind it. The shepherd walks behind, especially in the evening when the flock is on its way to the fold, in order that he may gather the stragglers and protect them from the stealthy wolf. The shepherd often walks by the side of the flock, at about the middle of the line. In case of large flocks the shepherd goes before, and the helper behind. One of the great delights of my boyhood days was the sight of the "returning flock" every evening on the pebbly road on the side of the hill close by our house. I go up on the housetop at dusk. As soon as I hear the swishing roar of the multitude of little sharp hoofs on the stony road, which is like the sound of an approaching hailstorm among the trees, then I know that the "blessed ones" are near. The long line of horny and hornless heads sweeps down the slope {301} of the hill like an army on a "double-quick." With his strong, protecting staff in hand, the stalwart, tender, ever-watchful shepherd appears at the end of the line, and like an overshadowing Providence _guides_ his beloved flock safely over the little stream and into the fold. The effective, and, I might say, unerring, guidance of the shepherd is especially shown when he leads his flock in the "narrow paths." In Syria as a rule the fields are not fenced. The pastures and the planted fields are separated by narrow footpaths, and here and there by low stone walls, which are intended, however, more for landmarks than for fences. The fields are the forbidden ground. In transferring his flock from one pasture to another, the shepherd must not allow any of his animals to stray from the beaten path into the fields. For if he does, he will not only have to pay damages to the owners of the fields, but will ruin his own reputation as a shepherd. In my home town we had a shepherd who was widely famed for his skill in leading his flock in the narrow paths. Sa'ied, who {302} supplied our community with goat's milk during the summer, was often known to guide a flock of about one hundred and fifty head of goats (which are much more unruly than sheep) without a helper, in a narrow path or over a stone wall, for a considerable distance, without allowing a single one of them to set foot on the forbidden ground. The flock obeyed him because they _knew his voice_ as that of their good shepherd. It was no doubt such shepherds as Sa'ied that lent the writer of the twenty-third Psalm his telling figure. It was the faithful guidance of such earthly shepherds that led the ancient singer to meditate upon the Lord's faithfulness to his own, and to utter his faith in the line, "He leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake." The fields of temptation lie on either side of the narrow path of rectitude and life. The Lord will protect and lead in the right path all those who know Him and hear His voice. Another enchanting picture of Syrian pastoral {303} life is the gathering of the flock. The shepherd seeks and gathers his sheep for the purpose of transferring them to a richer pasture, or, at the end of the day, to lead them back to the fold. He stands in the midst of the far-scattered flock and gives certain sounds, which are to the sheep what the notes of a bugle are to an army. His trained right arm, whose long range and precision are proverbial, sends the pebbles whirring in all directions, and thus "turns back" the more heedless of the flock. It was this which the Psalmist had in mind when he said, "He restoreth my soul." The Arabic phrase _yeriddo nefsee_, means, "he turns back my soul," and refers to the action of the shepherd in turning the course of his sheep toward himself. The faithful shepherd never proceeds to lead his flock away until he is assured that all his dumb companions are gathered together. With what pathos does the prophet Ezekiel portray this pastoral scene when he speaks of the infinite compassion of the divine shepherd of Israel, who never slumbers nor sleeps! In the {304} thirty-fourth chapter, the eleventh verse, the promise to scattered Israel is, "For thus saith the Lord God: Behold, I, even I, will both search for my sheep, and seek them out. As a shepherd seeketh out his flock in the day that he is among his sheep that are scattered; so will I seek out my sheep, and will deliver them out of all the places where they have been scattered in the cloudy and dark day. And I will bring them out from the people, and gather them from the countries, and will bring them to their own land, and feed them upon the mountains of Israel by the rivers, and in all the inhabited places of the country. I will feed them in a good pasture, and upon the high mountains of Israel shall their fold be; there shall they lie in a good fold, and in a fat pasture shall they feed upon the mountains of Israel.... I will seek that which was lost, and bring again that which was driven away." The climax of the shepherd figure, as it is used in the tenth chapter of the Gospel of John, is reached in Christ's saying, "I am the good {305} shepherd: the good shepherd giveth his life for the sheep," and in the twenty-third Psalm, in the passage, "Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil; for thou art with me: thy rod and thy staff, they comfort me." Only those who have heard the howling of a faithful shepherd at the approach of a wild beast to the flock can clearly realize how literally true is this saying of Christ's: "The good shepherd giveth his life for the sheep." Of all the shepherds I have known or have known about in my native land, the commanding figure of one--Yusuf Balua'--rises most prominently before me. I never want to forget old Yusuf. He was over sixty when I first knew him. He was every inch a shepherd, having known no other vocation in all his life. I knew that elemental man in the "lowlands," where I spent two winters with my father, who was called thither to erect several farmhouses for the lord of the land. Yusuf, as he himself expressed it, "revered" my father; therefore, I {306} was always welcome to visit Yusuf at his cave in the rocky gorge, and to roam with him and his flock whenever my duties as my father's helper permitted. The flocks are kept in the "lowlands" until after the "time of birth," which comes in March; then they are led up into the mountains. It was during that blessed time of birth, and while with Yusuf, that I first beheld the original of that infinitely tender picture which is drawn in the fortieth chapter of Isaiah, the eleventh verse, and which is also Christ's most appealing picture. "He shall feed his flock like a shepherd," says the prophet; "he shall gather the lambs with his arm, and carry them in his bosom, and shall gently lead those that are with young." The text is very effectively improved by the marginal note which says, "and shall gently lead those that _give suck_." It was that which Yusuf Balua' was doing once when I happened to be with him. His roughly hewn figure stands now before me, with three newly born lambs held close to his bosom, and their {307} wilted heads resting on his massive arm. He walked gently before the anxious, slowly moving mothers, which came close behind him, emitting low, humming sounds, through which Nature poured out her compassionate heart. "Let me carry one of them," I begged Yusuf. "No, my boy, not the helpless ones," answered the tender friend. "They need the shepherd's care now. Besides, the mothers don't know you and they would fear." But they knew _his_ voice and followed him! Oh, if we will but know and trust and follow our heavenly Shepherd, as the sheep trust and follow theirs! But I must not lose sight of what I have called the climax of the shepherd figure in the Gospel and the Psalms; namely, the shepherd's interposing with his own life between the flock and the wolf. The wolf, the hyena, and the leopard are the flock's most formidable foes. During his long life Yusuf fought many battles with those ferocious beasts, but never lost a hoof to them in all those encounters. On more {308} than one occasion he followed the hyena to his lair, and, by his characteristic howling, flinging his deadly stones with his sling, and striking with his heavy staff on the rocks, compelled the beast to abandon his prey. Whether the unfortunate sheep was yet alive or whether it had died, Yusuf, as a good and faithful shepherd, always carried it back to the fold. Does not the prophet Amos assure Israel of their Shepherd's infinite care for them in an allusion to the faithful seeking by the earthly shepherd for even a fragment of his lost sheep? "Thus saith Jehovah," cries Amos; "As the shepherd _rescueth out of the mouth of the lion two legs, or a piece of an ear_; so shall the children of Israel be rescued."[1] To this care and devotion of the shepherd, Jesus also alludes in his parabolic saying in which he speaks of his having "come to save that which was lost." "How think ye? if a man have an hundred sheep, and one of them be gone astray, doth he not leave the ninety and nine, and goeth into the mountains, {309} and seeketh that which is gone astray? And if so be that he find it, verily I say unto you, he rejoiceth more of that sheep, than of the ninety and nine which went not astray. Even so it is not the will of your Father which is in heaven, that one of these little ones should perish!"[2] When I think of that deep, rocky gorge where Yusuf wintered with his flock, and the many similar valleys which the Syrian shepherds have to traverse daily; when I think of the wild beasts they have to fight, of the scars they bear on their bodies as marks of their unreserved and boundless devotion to their flocks, I realize very clearly the depth of the Psalmist's faith when he said, "Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil; for thou art with me: thy rod and thy staff, they comfort me." [1] Amos iii: 12. Revised Version. [2] Matt. xviii: 12-14. {313} PART V SISTERS OF MARY AND MARTHA CHAPTER I WOMAN EAST AND WEST Perhaps on no other subject do the Orient and the Occident diverge more widely than on that of the status of woman. So far as they really differ, and as they imagine that they differ in their regard for woman, the Orientals and the Occidentals form two distinct human types. From the beginning of their history, the Teutonic races, especially the Anglo-Saxons, have been characterized by their high regard for woman. This trait of the dwellers of north-western Europe so impressed the Latin Christian missionaries, when they first visited those peoples, that they described them as having "such high regard for woman to the extent that adultery was unknown among them." And while the concluding phrase of this historical testimony does not describe the present state of Anglo-Saxon society with absolute correctness, {314} the statement as a whole seems to me to be a substantially correct description of present Anglo-Saxon life. Among the peoples of north-western Europe, and especially among their descendants in America, woman enjoys man's highest regard. On the other hand, "the Oriental view of woman" has always been considered by those Western peoples to be very contemptuous. We always hate most deeply that vice which is the opposite of our strongest virtue. We are most likely to exaggerate and to condemn mercilessly any deviation from that which we ourselves consider to be the sacred path of duty. Respect for woman being one of his strongest virtues, the Anglo-Saxon is lashed to fury by what seems to him to be the Oriental's utter disrespect for the mother of the race. As I have already stated in other connections in this work, my object is neither to accuse the Oriental nor to excuse his moral failures. My aim is rather to interpret him to my Western readers and to determine, if possible, to what {315} extent he really is a transgressor of the normal rules of behavior toward woman. My intimate knowledge of life in both hemispheres and my affectionate regard for the good qualities of both the Orientals and the Occidentals lead me to venture to be a reconciler of their differences. They certainly misunderstand one another, especially with reference to the domestic and social relations of the sexes. Time was when the various races hugged their prejudices close to their own hearts and really enjoyed ridiculing one another. But "the hour cometh and now is" when the peoples of the earth are beginning to realize that righteousness and truth, kindness and good manners, are the exclusive possessions of no one race. The peoples of the earth are beginning to realize that a mutual sympathetic understanding between the various races is an asset of civilization, and a promoter of the cause of that human commonwealth for which all good men pray and hope. Therefore, as one who owes much to both the East and the West, {316} I deem it my duty to do what I can to promote such a sympathetic understanding, without doing violence to the truth. What is an obvious fact, and which can by no means be ignored, even by the most zealous special pleader, is that the Eastern woman is far from being the equal of her Western sister, either in culture or in domestic and social privileges. Perhaps in no other country does woman enjoy these blessings to the extent to which the American woman enjoys them. Woman as man's intellectual companion, as a promoter of ideals, as a factor in domestic and social evolution, the Orient has never known. The Western type of woman is now partially represented in my native land by a minority of cultivated women, but their number is comparatively very small. The Oriental social code (if the simple social usages in that part of the world may be termed such) gives man the precedence. To give woman the social and domestic prominence, the little attentions and courtesies which she {317} enjoys in America, is to the Orientals not only unnecessary, but uncomplimentary to both sexes. It is perhaps for lack of such attentions and courtesies, more than for anything else, that the Occidentals consider the Oriental woman to be the slave of her husband. And, conversely, because of his giving the precedence to woman in all the courtesies and comforts of life, the Orientals, _both men and women_, consider the Occidental to be the slave of his wife. How often have I heard Syrians say, "An _affrenjee_ [that is, a European] is quite a man until his wife whispers something to him. Then he becomes her slave; he does just what she tells him." The Oriental's indifference to those fine points of behavior toward woman does not spring from the fact that he considers her to be intrinsically his inferior, and consequently his slave. I never had the slightest reason, nor the faintest suggestion, either by example or precept, to believe that my mother was in any way {318} my father's inferior. "Thou shalt honour thy father _and_ thy mother" is a commandment which was born of the deepest life of the East. I can think of no circumstances in Eastern life which compel a Syrian to think of his mother, sister, and wife in other than terms of equality in all essentials with the male members of the family.[1] In my judgment it is the Oriental's deportment, rather than his real intentions, which condemns him in the sight of Occidentals for his attitude toward woman. It is perhaps hazardous to undertake to differentiate between character and conduct, between the motive and the method by which that motive is put into action. It is customary, however, to say of a person that "his heart is in the right place, but he does not know how to act." I venture to say that {319} this characterization fits the case of the average Oriental. His heart is in the right place. His natural endowments are good. He is quick-witted, kind, generous, pious, obedient to parents, and a lover of his home. So far as all these fundamentals are concerned, I find no great difference between the Easterners and the Westerners. However, compared with his Western cousin, the son of the Near East has only a slight acquaintance with the _art_ of living. The working-out of details with the view of creating harmony has always seemed to him vanity and vexation of spirit. His intense desire for simple, spontaneous, easy living has always refused to be encumbered by exacting standards. In this respect he is a boy in man's clothing. For an example, the home to him is little more than a shelter. The riches of the home are not the artistic appointments, but human associations. Architectural schemes, interior decorations, books, musical instruments, living by the clock, and other Western glories are to the Oriental {320} dispensable luxuries. The one-room or two-room house, very simply furnished, is the essential part of the home. Why then should one be burdened with more? The "color scheme," the harmony or contrast of wall-paper with picture frames and carpets, and the thousand and one articles of useful and ornamental furniture which crowd the American home and make the "servant-girl problem" well-nigh insoluble, are to the average Oriental a delusion and a snare. His table appointments are also very simple. To him the "one thing needful" is enough food to sustain life. He has no "cook-book." The varieties of cake and pie, and the multitude of side dishes which load the American table, do not appear on the Syrian's bill of fare. One dish of cooked cereals, or meat and rice or some other wholesome combination, and a few loaves of bread, satisfy his hunger. His modest stores of grape molasses, figs, and raisins, which he visits at irregular intervals, satisfy his craving for sweets, and his home-made wine gives color and gayety to his feasts. {321} The same simple rules govern the Oriental's social activities. Whether as an individual or as a domestic and social being, he hates to be standardized. To him formalities have no claim upon those who are true friends and social equals. Spontaneous living must not be too closely yoked with etiquette, nor native wisdom with technical culture. "_Meta weck'at elmahabbet artafa' ettekleef_" (when love occurs formalities cease) is one of the Oriental's ancient and cherished maxims. From early childhood the Americans are taught to observe, even within the family circle, the niceties of "Please," "Thank you," "Pardon me," "I beg your pardon," "May I trouble you," and so forth. To a son of the East such behavior is altogether proper among strangers, but not among those who really _love one another_. Between husband and wife, parent and child, brothers and sisters, and true friends such formalities appear to Easterners not only superficial, but utterly ridiculous. For such persons the most essential thing is that they should love one another. As {322} lovers they have a right to _demand_ favors from one another. The commands of love are sweet; they must not be alloyed with tiresome formalities. Of course this "friendliness" of the Oriental is not altogether an unmixed blessing. He relies too much upon his good intentions, which his conduct does not always show. Judged, not only by Western standards, but by the standards of the cultivated minority of his own people, he is found wanting. It is not always easy for him to be familiar without being vulgar, and to distinguish between the legitimate claims of friendship and intrusion upon the exclusive rights of others. His plea always is that he means well, which is generally true. "His heart is in the right place." Now I believe it can be easily seen that the Easterner's attitude toward woman, which now rises to the height of religious reverence, now verges on contempt, is to be traced to his uneven, juvenile temperament and lack of culture, and not to the fact that he despises her. {323} So long as he respects her "in his heart" and is ready to defend her at whatever cost, he considers the fine points of conduct toward her after the American fashion to be simply dispensable little details. Nor does his attitude toward woman differ essentially from his attitude toward the male portion of mankind. He has one vocabulary for both sexes, with the inclination to be more respectful toward the gentler sex. So woman in the East is not considered a slave by the man, and there is a multitude of wife-ruled husbands. The family system, however, is patriarchal. The man is recognized as the "lord of the household." The venerable father of a family is supposed to rule, not only over the women of the household, but over his grown sons, his younger brothers, and even the men of his clan who are younger than himself. But such an authority is often purely formal. The higher the level of culture in the home, the more freedom and equality exists among the members of the family. In cultivated Syrian {324} homes the women are free and highly and uniformly respected by the men. Such women have no reason to envy even the happiest American women. [1] My statements apply particularly to the Christian women of Syria, who enjoy greater domestic and social privileges than the Mohammedan women. However, notwithstanding the serious limitations which orthodox Mohammedanism imposes upon women, it would be sheer injustice to the better class of Mohammedans to be stigmatized as enslavers and debasers of woman. {325} CHAPTER II PAUL AND WOMAN Perhaps nowhere else is the Syrian attitude toward woman so clearly stated as in the teachings of St. Paul. The great Apostle deals with the fundamentals of this subject, and speaks freely of both the privileges and the limitations of woman in the Christian East. In the third chapter of the Epistle to the Galatians, the twenty-eighth verse, Paul says, "There is neither male nor female: for ye are all one in Christ Jesus." And this equality is not to be understood to be limited to the bestowal of church rites upon men and women alike. It embraces the essential points of conduct of the male and female members of the household toward one another. Fidelity to the marriage vow is to be equally observed by both husband and wife. This the Apostle urges upon his fellow believers, not as a superior authority, {326} but as a friend. In the seventh chapter of the First Epistle to the Corinthians, the fourth verse, he says, "The wife hath not power over her own body, but the husband; and _likewise_ also the husband hath not power over his own body, but the wife." In the fourteenth verse of this same chapter, the equal potency of the spiritual influence of both the husband and the wife is also recognized. "The unbelieving husband," says the Apostle, "is sanctified by the wife, and the unbelieving wife is sanctified by the husband." In the fifth chapter of the Epistle to the Ephesians, the "Apostle to the Gentiles" rises to the noblest height of Eastern thought concerning woman and reveals Christianity's conserving and sanctifying power. Beginning at the twenty-fifth verse, he says: "Husbands, love your wives, even as Christ also loved the church, and gave himself for it; that he might sanctify and cleanse it, ... that he might present it to himself a glorious church, not having spot, or wrinkle, or any such thing; but that it should be holy and without blemish. {327} So ought men to love their wives as their own bodies. He that loveth his wife loveth himself. For no man ever yet hated his own flesh; but nourisheth and cherisheth it, even as the Lord the church." This is precisely what the marriage union in the East always meant to us. By this sacred bond the husband and the wife are made "one flesh." That the Oriental has not definitely succeeded in making his daily conduct always conform to his highest ideals and to the noble precepts of the Gospel is evident, and not at all strange. Here he has succeeded no better than his Anglo-Saxon superior has in conforming his conduct to the command, "Love your enemies." My point is that down deep in the Syrian heart the spirit of Paul's words abides. It serves the son of the East in time of trouble as his quick and tender conscience. The real trouble with him has been his aversion to strictly systematic living. He does love his wife as he loves himself, but in reality he does not fully know how to love himself. {328} Paul, on the other hand, does not ignore the conventional limitations which Eastern traditions impose upon woman. He recognizes the patriarchal government of the family. In the chapter just quoted, the Apostle says: "Wives, submit yourselves unto your own husbands, as unto the Lord. For the husband is the head of the wife, even as Christ is the head of the Church." Much trouble may be avoided by the unfriendly critics of Paul and Christianity in general, if such critics would keep in mind the conditional nature of this command. Whether as a Syrian or as an American I do not believe in subjecting the wife to the husband, nor the husband to the wife. Domestic life should be based on perfect coöperation of husband and wife, in spiritual as well as in administrative matters. Toward this goal the Americans have made the greatest advance. However, Paul's command can by no means be justly construed as giving the husband unlimited tyrannical authority over the wife. "The husband is the head of the wife, _even as Christ is the head of the {329} Church_." The church is not the slave of Christ, but his beloved bride. So the supremacy here is that of loving care and consideration. Therefore, the fact that the traditions of the East give the man conventional supremacy over the woman has never meant to us sons of that land that our mothers and sisters were abject slaves. And it should be borne in mind that the women of Syria are not always so submissive as those traditions would lead a Westerner to believe. I might say that in the majority of cases the man finds it no easy task to make his formal authority over the woman of real effect. The heartfelt complaints of discouraged husbands, that "not even all the angels of heaven can subdue a woman," are not unfrequently heard in the land of the Bible. Perhaps the part of Paul's teaching which seems to Westerners to seal the fate of woman is that found in the eleventh chapter of the First Epistle to the Corinthians. Here the Apostle declares: "For a man indeed ought not to cover his head, forasmuch as he is the image and glory {330} of God: but the woman is the glory of the man. Neither was the man created for the woman; but the woman for the man." I think any serious Bible student will easily realize that as a good shepherd Paul must have felt that he should not travel much faster than the weakest of his flock. In the passage just quoted he stoops low for the purpose of accommodating the prejudices of _certain_ Orientals. And in so doing he contradicts his own saying, "There is neither male nor female: for ye are all one in Christ Jesus," and the great passage in the first chapter of Genesis, the twenty-seventh verse, "So God created man in his own image, in the image of God created he him; _male and female_ created he them." The Eastern man has from time immemorial decreed that woman's social privileges should be limited, because of his fear for her. In such an unstable social order as that which has existed in the East for ages woman is constantly exposed to danger. Woman-stealing was very prevalent in ancient times, and is still practiced {331} among the Arabian tribes which hover on the eastern borders of Syria. In modern Syria such practices no longer exist, but their faint echoes are still heard in times of tribal fights. On such occasions the cry is heard (and I often heard it myself), "You dogs, to-day we shall take your women booty [_nesbee hereemekûm_]." It is because of these ancient fears, and not from a desire on the part of the man to enslave her, that the social privileges of the woman in the East are so limited. The duty to protect always carries with it the right to discipline. And the greater the danger, the more strict the discipline. The weaker men of the clan, because they need to be protected, are also in subjection to the "men of counsel" (_ahil erry_) and to the stronger fighters. And it may be easily inferred that in such circumstances woman's charms are a danger to her. She must be secluded, as among the Mohammedans, or simply limited in her social intercourse, as among the Christians, in order to hide those charms from the curious stranger. {332} For this reason also she must be heavily veiled when she goes out, as among the Moslems, or at least have her head covered always, as among the Christians. So when Paul said, "Every woman that prayeth or prophesieth with her head uncovered dishonoreth her head,"[1] he simply gave wise recognition to an ancient social custom. A more liberal course on his part would have marked Paul as a violent disturber of venerable traditions. The chief charm of an Oriental woman is her _hishmat_ (modesty). But modesty in a stricter sense than that accepted in the Occident. Feminine timidity (_jubn_) is very extensively sung by the Arabian poets. A charming woman, especially a maiden, is she who is timid, shy, retiring, of a few words. "She has a mouth to eat, but not to speak," is a high tribute paid to a maiden. For a woman to take a leading part in conversation in the presence of men is boldness. I do not know how they manage to do it, but, _as a rule_, in the presence of men the women of {333} Syria exercise marvelous control over their organs of speech. Do you understand now why Paul says, in the fourteenth chapter of his First Epistle to the Corinthians, the thirty-fourth verse, "Let your women keep silence in the Churches: for it is not permitted unto them to speak; but they are commanded to be under obedience"? To Oriental ears, as perhaps to Puritan ears of the good old type, such words are poetry set to music. They do not degrade, but honor woman by not making her common. It would, perhaps, throw further light on the Easterners' regard of woman as a sacred being when it is known why they call the wife _hûrmat_. This term is derived from _heram_--a consecrated and wholly sacred object. _Heram_ is the name of the Mohammedans' most sacred shrine of Mecca. The wife is the husband's most sacred possession, therefore she is called _hûrmat_. The plural of this is _harem_, a term which to Westerners has a most obnoxious connotation. But not so to Orientals. In the West {334} _harem_ simply means sensuality and polygamy in their worst form. In the East it means simply and purely the women of a household, or of a clan, whether it be Christian or Mohammedan. It does not necessarily mean plurality of wives. A man's mother, wife, sisters, and daughters constitute his _harem_; for they are all sacred to him. Now it will not be difficult to understand, I believe, why it is that the man in the East takes precedence of the woman in all social affairs, and why the sexes are segregated at public feasts and on other similar occasions. It is for the same reason that we find no women disciples at the Last Supper. In the parable of the prodigal son, the father meets the returning penitent, the father bestows "the best robe" on the son, the father orders the feast, and doubtless presides over it. So it was also when Abraham entertained the angels, and Zacchæus entertained Jesus--the man was the entertainer. However, in these two cases the women might have acted as hostesses,--because the {335} guests were holy persons. We have a striking example of the freedom which is permitted to women in such cases in the story of Mary and Martha. They entertained Jesus, first because apparently they had no parents living, and their brother was young, and second because Jesus was no mere guest, but a holy person.[2] Notwithstanding all these social conventions, however, the mother has a right to demand from her children the same loving obedience which they accord to their father. They must honor their father and their mother alike. Upon coming home from a journey I always saluted my parents by kissing their hands, as a mark of loving submission. According to custom, I saluted my father first, and my mother second, but in the same identical manner, and invoked their _radha_ (good pleasure) toward me, with religious reverence. I always knew that to disrespect and disobey my mother was not only bad manners, but a sin. So obnoxious has disobedience to parents been to the respectable {336} families of the East that the ancient Israelites made it a capital crime. In the twenty-first chapter of the Book of Deuteronomy the stipulation of the law is: "If a man have a stubborn and rebellious son, which will not obey the voice of his father, or the voice of _his mother_, and that, when they have chastened him, will not hearken unto them: then shall his father _and_ his mother lay hold on him, and bring him out unto the elders of his city, and unto the gate of his place; and they shall say unto the elders of his city, This our son is stubborn and rebellious, he will not obey our voice.... And all the men of his city shall stone him with stones, that he die."[3] Needless to say that this cruel punishment is no longer inflicted upon rebellious sons in the East. The record, however, indicates the joint authority of the husband and wife over their own children, and the public approval of it. But there is more to be said about _radha-elwalideen_ (the parents' good pleasure). I do {337} not know whether the words "good pleasure" convey the real significance of the word _radha_, which as it pertains to parents is one of the most sacred terms in Oriental speech. The _radha_ of a parent is a benediction which includes complete forgiveness to the child of all offenses and indicates the parent's spiritual satisfaction with his offspring. To secure the parent's expressed _radha_ at the hour of death is equal to a sacrament. I can think of no human experience that can be more impressive, more tender, and more deeply religious than that of an Oriental imploring a dying parent to assure him of his or her _radha_ before the end came. The weeping son grasps the hand of his dying parent, and, leaning over tenderly to catch the faint utterances, says: "Father,[4] bestow your _radha_ upon me; forgive me and bless me, so that Allah also may forgive and bless me; your _radha_, father!" If the departing parent is still able to speak, he looks up toward heaven and says: "You have my _radha_, my dearly beloved {338} son; and may Allah bestow his holy _radha_ upon you and bless you and the work of your hands. May the earth produce riches for you, and heaven shower benedictions upon you; pray for me, my dearly beloved." But if the departing father or mother is no longer able to utter words, the repeated pressing of the hand and the turning of the eyes upward indicate the parent's response to the petition of the son or daughter. The refusal of a parent to grant his _radha_, which is most rare, is to an Oriental a haunting horror. In ancient Israel the deathbed blessing was bestowed with special emphasis upon the first-born son because with it came the heritage of the patriarchal office. Thus, when Isaac bestowed his last blessing upon his tricky son Jacob, he said:[5] "God give thee of the dew of heaven, and the fatness of the earth, and plenty of corn and wine: Let people serve thee, and nations bow down to thee: be lord over thy brethren, and let thy mother's sons bow down {339} to thee." And what is also most touching in this story is poor Esau's agony when he discovered that the blessing to which he was the rightful heir had gone to his brother. "And Esau said unto his father, Hast thou but one blessing, my father? bless me, even me also, O my father. And Esau lifted up his voice and wept."[6] [1] 1 Cor. xi: 5. [2] See page 207. [3] Verses 18-21. [4] The same also is asked of the mother. [5] Gen. xxvii: 28, 29. [6] Gen. xxvii: 38. {340} CHAPTER III JESUS AND HIS MOTHER One of the perplexing passages in the New Testament is that found in the fourth verse of the second chapter of St. John's Gospel, where Jesus says to his mother, "Woman, what have I to do with thee?" That it has been very difficult for many devout readers of the Bible to reconcile this passage to the Master's gentleness and goodness is very well known to me. On numerous occasions I have been asked to give my interpretation of this saying in the light of the status of woman in the East, and to state whether, in my opinion as a Syrian, Jesus could have meant to be harsh and disrespectful to his mother. Before undertaking to give my own view of this passage, I wish to present two interpretations of it which I have heard certain American preachers give. One of those preachers who was proud to call himself "a free lance" stated in my hearing that on the {341} occasion when Jesus spoke these words "he simply lost his temper." The redeeming feature of this comment, in my opinion, is its brevity. It is short, but neither sweet nor to the point. The other interpreter (or interpreters, for I do not recall where and when I heard this), assuming that the station of woman in the East was very low, stated that by addressing his mother in a seemingly harsh manner, Jesus infringed no rule of propriety. Having already stated at considerable length the "Oriental view of woman," I deem it necessary here simply to say that the foregoing interpretation rests on a misconception of the facts. In trying to throw some light on this passage I will say that, notwithstanding its seeming harshness in the English translation, I find no real reason to believe that in uttering it Jesus indicated that he was angry, or that he meant to be disrespectful to his mother. This somewhat impersonal form of address to a woman is very common in the East. It _might_ be so spoken as to mean disrespect, but as a rule, and {342} according to the Oriental manner of speech, it is dignified and in good taste. At present the term _hûrmat_ is more extensively used in such cases in Syria. Among the nobility and the educated minority of the people the word _sitt_ (lady) is employed in addressing a woman. However, this impersonal form of address is employed by a man when speaking to a woman who is a stranger to him. The correct form is, "O woman," the same which Jesus used in saying to the "woman of Canaan," in the fifteenth chapter of Matthew, the twenty-eighth verse, "O woman, great is thy faith: be it unto thee even as thou wilt." In the same manner the Master assured the woman who had "a spirit of infirmity,"[1] "Woman,[2] thou art loosed from thine infirmity." A superb example of this Oriental usage is found in the fourth chapter of St. John's Gospel, the twenty-first verse, in Jesus' conversation with the Samaritan woman. With solemn dignity he says to her: "Woman, {343} believe me, the hour cometh, when ye shall neither in this mountain, nor yet at Jerusalem, worship the Father.... But the hour cometh, and now is, when the true worshippers shall worship the Father in spirit and in truth." From the foregoing examples it may be easily seen that the form of Jesus' address to his mother could not be considered disrespectful. Therefore the difficulty which the text offers springs from the fact that it represents Jesus as speaking to his own mother as he would speak to a woman _who was a stranger to him_. Why did he do that? The answer to this question depends partially on thorough knowledge of Oriental thought and largely on acquaintance with the theology of St. John's Gospel. As every Bible scholar knows, the purpose of this Gospel is to present Jesus to the world as the incarnation of the Logos--the Word. Here the Master is spoken of, not as the prophet of Galilee, but as the One who came down from heaven. Therefore the Son of God was by virtue of this supernatural character above all {344} earthly connections. His mother was only human, only finite. On the occasion of his addressing her as a stranger she is represented as interfering with him as he was about to work a miracle. Such a thing, according to St. John's Gospel, was beyond her understanding. Consequently as a _divine_ being speaking to a _human_ being, Jesus said to his earthly mother, "Woman, what is mine and what is thine?" This is the original form. The English translation, "Woman, what have I to do with thee," is good, although the more refined attitude of the West toward woman makes the expression seem rather harsh. Stated in simplest terms the Oriental understanding of these words is, "Leave me alone." In Jesus' case the further implication of the passage is that, as Mary's vision of spiritual things was not Jesus' vision, even though he was her son in the flesh, she was not competent to exercise authority over him, seeing that he was a divine being. In a higher sense she was a stranger to him. With real consistency the writer of the Fourth {345} Gospel clings to this view of Jesus' divinity to the end. In the nineteenth chapter we find the Master speaking from the cross. He speaks, not as a human sufferer, but as a triumphant heavenly being. He addresses his mother in the same manner as he did at the marriage feast in Cana of Galilee--"Woman." In the twenty-fifth verse it is said: "Now there stood by the Cross of Jesus his mother, and his mother's sister, Mary the wife of Cleophas, and Mary Magdalene. When Jesus therefore saw his mother, and the disciple standing by, whom he loved, he saith unto his mother, Woman, behold thy son!" In this lofty yet tender manner the Master committed his loving mother to the care of his beloved disciple. The excellent qualities of a man are credited by Orientals largely to _haleeb el-omm_ (the mother's milk) and the mysterious influences of the prenatal period. Aside from its nutritive qualities, _el-redha'_ (suck) is supposed to possess certain mystic influences which tend to fashion the possibilities of character. Whenever a man, {346} especially a youth, speaks "words of wisdom," his admiring hearer is likely to exclaim, "Precious was the milk that nourished thee!" Among the choice blessings which Jacob asked for Joseph the patriarch did not forget to include the "blessings of the breasts, and of the womb."[3] Nothing can be loftier to an Oriental than the passage in the eleventh chapter of St. Luke's gospel, the twenty-seventh verse. Jesus is represented in the preceding verses as disputing triumphantly with his theological adversaries. His trenchant periods, "Every kingdom divided against itself is brought to desolation.... He that is not with me is against me," and his simple yet profound reasoning that a human heart which is not filled with the spirit of God is bound to become the abode of evil spirits, deeply stir his hearers. So the text tells us, "A certain woman of the company lifted up her voice and said unto him, Blessed is the womb that bare thee, and the breasts which thou hast sucked!" {347} The most solemn occasion on which I heard this expression used in my native land was that when the great Patriarch of Antioch visited our town in Mount Lebanon. Upon his arrival at the priest's house, where he was entertained, the waiting multitude, including the governor of the district, stood with bowed heads to receive the prelate's benediction. I shall never forget that scene. Standing in the door, our revered and beloved patriarch seemed to us to be a visitor from the celestial sphere, full of truth and grace. As he lifted his right arm and imparted his blessing to the silent assemblage, a woman of our church, a mother, who was almost overcome with emotion, advanced toward the spiritual ruler, and with her face and open palms turned toward heaven, exclaimed, in the vernacular Arabic, "Blessed be the inwards that bore you, and the breasts you sucked!" Whereupon the distinguished visitor bestowed a special blessing upon the humble suppliant, to the great satisfaction of the profoundly affected multitude. [1] Luke xiii: 12. [2] The English translation changes the form, "O woman" to "Woman" arbitrarily. [3] Gen. xlix: 25. {348} CHAPTER IV "A GRACIOUS WOMAN" To the East woman is known only as wife and mother, and, of course, as the home-maker. The statement, "Woman's place is in the home," is never a matter of dispute in that part of the world. In the home are to be found both "woman's rights" and woman's duties. Education, literary pursuits, "club life," and civic endeavors are no vital interests to the Eastern woman, nor to her husband to any appreciable extent. Marriage is a religious union. The highest and most sacred duty of the husband and wife is to beget many children, bring them up "in the fear of the Lord," and be such good example to them, as to enable them to live a pious life, and to transmit their good heritage to the unborn generations. Marriage of inclination, preceded by a period of courtship as in the West, is very rare in the East. The reason of this has {349} been hinted in the preceding chapters. Lack of education and social and political stability necessitates the curtailing of woman's social privileges, for her own safety. These limitations are especially narrow in the case of "maidens," or "virgins"; that is, unmarried young women. They are not supposed to participate in social functions as their mothers do, nor to form friendships with young men, even among their near relatives. The contracting of a marriage is not so much an individual as it is a clannish affair. The young people may, or may not be acquainted with one another. Among Christians, the young man may frequent the home of his future wife's parents, and even converse with her now and then, but only in the presence of other members of the family. "Going with a young lady" is unknown to the East, and is a feature of Western life which Orientals generally condemn. The marriage is agreed upon by the families or clans of the contracting parties, because the family or clan is involved in the conduct and affected by the {350} reputation of each one of its members. The shame of a woman is a burden to all her kindred. Interclannish marriages form alliances and impose defensive and offensive obligations. Whenever a woman of one clan, who is married into another, is cruelly treated by her husband, her own clansmen are supposed to rise and defend her, else they become a byword in the community. This difference of procedure between the East and the West in contracting a marriage does not seem to result in a decidedly marked difference in domestic happiness. In both the East and the West, the perfectly happy and the perfectly unhappy marriages are rare. In both hemispheres the large majority of married people soon learn that domestic happiness depends in no small measure on adherence to the well-known rule: "In essentials unity; in non-essentials liberty; in all things charity." As I have already stated, the Oriental does not know the art of living as the Occidental does, yet the Easterner enjoys as much home happiness {351} as those Occidentals who are on the same level of culture with him. Women in the East are classified, not with reference to education and social interests or the lack of them, but with reference to virtue and its opposite. A happy husband says, "I lift my head high [_arfa' rasy_] because of my wife. Her _siett_ [reputation] is like musk in fragrance. She is _taj rasy_ [a crown to my head]." So also speaks the writer of the Book of Proverbs, in the twelfth chapter, and the fourth verse: "A virtuous woman is a crown to her husband: but she that maketh ashamed is as rottenness in his bones." In both the East and the West the opinion is accepted that "as a jewel of gold in a swine's snout, so is a fair woman which is without discretion."[1] The Orient and the Occident diverge considerably in their description of feminine charms in poetry and literature. Here I find the Orientals to be very inconsistent. Their strong aversion to the free mention of women in {352} conversation and to her sharing of social privileges equally with the man, contrasts very sharply with their license in describing her charms in their poetry. A most perfect specimen of this poetry in the Bible is Solomon's Song. Its Oriental freedom in describing the "beloved spouse," renders it practically unfit for public use. Its poetical charms are exquisite, and its passion is pure, but judged by Western standards, the faithfulness of its realism appears licentious. It is exhilarating to read the poet's lines in which he calls his "fair one" to go with him into the fields and vineyards. "Rise up, my love, my fair one, and come away. For, lo, the winter is past, The rain is over and gone; The flowers appear on the earth; The time of the singing of birds is come, And the voice of the turtle dove is heard in our land; The fig tree ripeneth her green figs, And the vines are in blossom, They give forth their fragrance. Arise, my love, my fair one, and come away. O my dove, that art in the clefts of the rock, In the covert of the steep place, Let me see thy countenance, {353} Let me hear thy voice; For sweet is thy voice, and thy countenance is comely."[2] In the opening verses of the fourth chapter the poet's vision of his "love" is also beautiful. "Behold, thou art fair, my love; behold, thou art fair; Thine eyes are as doves behind thy veil: Thy hair is as a flock of goats, That lie along the side of mount Gilead. Thy teeth are like a flock of ewes that are newly shorn Which are come up from the washing; ... Thy lips are like a thread of scarlet, And thy mouth is comely." All this is beautiful and perfectly acceptable to both the East and the West. Not so the opening lines of the seventh chapter. The Revised Version modifies the original text. King James's Version gives the lines just as Oriental poetry past and present would render them. The rendering of the second verse by the Revised Version, "Thy body is like a round goblet," and, "Thy waist is like an heap of wheat," renders the words meaningless. However, the modesty of the revisers is to be commended. {354} Arabic poetry is full of such passages, which abound also in Syrian vernacular songs, which are sung with perfect propriety among all classes. In discussing such a subject as this one can hardly resist the temptation to judge. To me the more chaste way of the West in poetizing feminine charms is far superior to the altogether too free realism of the East, which I do not feel at all inclined to defend. Yet I would not be loyal to good conscience if I did not offer an explanation in behalf of the land of my birth. Ever since I began to read Arabic poetry, for which I developed great fondness, to the present day, I do not remember that its descriptions of feminine loveliness ever really suggested to me licentious thoughts. The general effect of such delineations upon me was of the same sort as that which the sketching of love scenes by a great novelist produces. Its charms were those of the poetic art, and not those of the seductive feelings of sordid passion. To us _'aroos esshi'ar_ (the bride, or spouse of the poet) is purely an imaginary creature. It is {355} the poet's spirit of inspiration objectified in a female form. He does not describe a woman, but an angelic creature whose body and soul are both pure. Only the very commonplace versifier gets demoralized and infects his reader with the same feeling. The true poet soars far above "the things that perish," and is perfectly safe to follow. His infatuation is known as _el howa el'adhry_ (pure, or aspirational love). Here, then, without the slightest attempt to excuse his phraseology, I find at least a partial justification for the Eastern poet, and for the writer of Solomon's Song. The simple, eloquent, and fully inclusive description of the "virtuous woman," in the thirty-first chapter of the Book of Proverbs, is rather a composite than an individual picture. It expresses the Syrian's noblest idea of the true wife and the real home-maker:-- Who can find a virtuous woman? for her price is far above rubies. The heart of her husband doth safely trust in her, so that he shall have no need for spoil. {356} She will do him good and not evil all the days of her life. She seeketh wool, and flax, and worketh willingly with her hands. She is like the merchant's ships; she bringeth her food from afar. She riseth also while it is yet night, and giveth meat to her household, and a portion to her maidens. She considereth a field, and buyeth it: with the fruits of her hands she planteth a vineyard. She girdeth her loins with strength, and strengtheneth her arms. She perceiveth that her merchandise is good: her candle goeth not out by night. She layeth her hands to the spindle, and her hands hold the distaff. She stretcheth out her hands to the poor; yea, she reacheth forth her hands to the needy. She is not afraid of the snow for her household: for all her household are clothed with scarlet. She maketh herself coverings of tapestry; her clothing is silk and purple. Her husband is known in the gates, when he sitteth among the elders of the land. She maketh fine linen, and selleth it; and delivereth girdles unto the merchant. Strength and honor are her clothing; and she shall rejoice in time to come. {357} She openeth her mouth with wisdom; and in her tongue is the law of kindness. She looketh well to the ways of her household, and eateth not the bread of idleness. Her children arise up, and call her blessed; her husband also, and he praiseth her. Many daughters have done virtuously, but thou excellest them all. Favour is deceitful, and beauty is vain: but a woman that feareth the Lord, she shall be praised. Give her of the fruit of her hands; and let her own works praise her in the gates. Here we have the real "Oriental view of woman," and a glorification of virtue, loyalty, industry, wisdom, kindness, and charity, unsurpassed in its beauty and simplicity. I have said that this remarkable picture is rather composite than individual. Yet the true, diligent, and virtuous Syrian wife and mother comes near being the ideal woman of the ancient Scriptural writer. His question, "Who can find a virtuous woman?" does not mean that such a woman cannot be found; nor his saying, "For her price is far above rubies" mean that women are bought and sold in the market. The {358} sense of the writer can be adequately expressed by saying, "Happy is he who hath a virtuous woman, for her worth is far above all earthly riches." But for the existence of women approaching his ideal, this writer could not have given the world his picture of the "virtuous woman." I feel that no detailed commentary on these verses is needed. The virtues here enumerated are universally cherished. I will, however, call attention to the Oriental features of this great passage. In saying that "the heart of her husband doth safely trust in her," the writer shows that the good wife is by no means a despised creature in the Syrian home. She is loved and trusted as her husband's life-partner, and exerts no inconsiderable influence upon him. The value of such a wife's counsel in the estimation of her husband and friends is also indicated in the saying, "She openeth her mouth with wisdom; and in her tongue is the law of kindness." "She seeketh wool, and flax, and worketh willingly with her hands," or, as the Arabic version {359} has it, "with willing hands." The flax is now rarely found in Syria. Wool and silk cocoons are spun into thread by means of the spindle, woven on hand looms, and made into garments by the women, especially in the rural districts. This verse should be joined to verse nineteen, which says, "She layeth her hands to the spindle, and her hands hold the distaff." The Revised Version says, "She layeth her hands to the distaff, and her hands hold the spindle." In explaining this passage some commentators speak of the spinning wheel, and of the distaff, as the dictionary defines it: "A rotating vertical staff that holds the bunch of flax or wool in hand-spinning." But this is not the "spindle" which is intended in the passage before us. The Syrian spindle (_meghzel_) which a woman may carry wherever she goes, is a small instrument. It consists of a smooth wooden pin, or stem, about the size and shape of a long wooden pen holder. This is inserted at its thick end into a hole of a hemispherical "top" or whorl, which is the exact shape of the crown of a small {360} mushroom. It is this top which the English translation calls "distaff." A small brass hook fastened to the end of the stem, which protrudes slightly above the whorl, completes the spindle. In spinning a quantity of wool is wound on a small wooden or wire frame into which the woman inserts her left hand, the frame passing over the fingers and held inside the palm next to the thumb, thus leaving the thumb and all the fingers free. The spinner fastens the hook of the spindle to the bunch of wool and twirls the spindle swiftly at its lower end, between the thumb and the middle finger of the right hand, and then draws the thread deftly with the fingers of both hands. When the twisted thread is about the "length of an arm," the spinner unhooks it without breaking it off, winds it on the stem of the spindle, just below the whorl, then fastens it again to the hook close to the raw material. The operation is thus continued until the bunch of wool is converted into a "spindleful" of thread. The spindle as it is mentioned in the passage {361} under consideration, and in this peculiarly constructed language, symbolizes diligence and industry. "She layeth her hands to the spindle, and her hands hold the distaff" is equivalent to saying "She is never idle," or as the Syrians say, "Her spindle is never out of her hands." As a general rule spinning in Syria is done by the older women. It is often used as an occasion for diligent spinners "to get together." I recall very clearly the palmy days of my grandmother as a spinner, and some of the delightful spinning sociables she enjoyed with her peers. It was a delight to me to watch those good women lay their hands to the spindle. It is always delightful to watch an expert at his work. They worked with the ease and inerrancy of instinct. They spun while walking, talking, eating (informally) or even disputing. The only thing about the useful industry which I hated heartily as a boy was that when I came close to the feminine spinners the flying hairs from their whirling spindles fell on me, and "made my flesh creep." {362} Again the virtuous woman "Considereth a field, and buyeth it: with the fruit of her hands she planteth a vineyard." Here the language of the Scriptural writer is figurative. It refers to a good wife's thrift. She saves the coins she earns and treasures them in the well-known _kees_ (money bag) in a corner of the clothes chest, where heirlooms and other precious objects are stored. In time of need she surprises her husband by the substantial sum of money she places in his hands, which enables him to buy a field or plant a vineyard. "She is not afraid of the snow for her household; for all her household are clothed in scarlet." The marginal note greatly improves the translation by saying "double garments" instead of "scarlet." The Arabic version says _hillel_--that is, full, or substantial, garments. The snow is always dreaded by the common people of Syria. With it come no sleighbells and no skating. It is a time of stress (_dhieq_). The snow "blocks the roads and cuts a man off from his neighbor." At such a time, because {363} of lack of fuel and adequate clothing, many of the people suffer. So the writer of Proverbs praises the "virtuous woman" very highly when he says, "She is not afraid of the snow for her household," because by her foresight and unremitting care she has amply provided for their comfort. "Her husband is known in the gates, when he sitteth among the elders of the land." The Syrian husband of the good old type does not buy his wearing apparel "ready-made" at the clothier's. His garments are made by his wife. When he sits with the elders of the community in the market place or at the gate of the town where those dignitaries converse on matters of public interest, and speak parables and tell stories, his neat appearance bespeaks the diligence and loving care of his wife. "Verily his wife is a costly jewel," is the likely remark of such a fortunate man's admirers. How true also to the nobler instincts of the East are these words in this poetical description of the virtuous woman. "Her children arise up, and call {364} her blessed; her husband also, and he praiseth her." The closing words of this Oriental writer who lived long before the advent of "modern culture," reveal him as one of woman's truest friends and wisest counselors. "Favour is deceitful, and beauty is vain: but a woman that feareth the Lord, she shall be praised. Give her of the fruits of her hands; and let her own works praise her in the gates." This is the true "Order of Merit." [1] Prov. xi: 22. [2] Revised Version; ii: 10-14. {367} PART VI HERE AND THERE IN THE BIBLE HERE AND THERE IN THE BIBLE During the time when the earlier chapters of this book were being published in the "Atlantic Monthly," requests came to the author from readers of those chapters for his comments on certain Scriptural passages which did not appear in them. Some of the passages suggested by those interested readers, I have considered in other parts of this publication. The other passages thus suggested, and others which presented themselves to the author during the progress of this work, but which for some reason or other he could not include in the preceding chapters, will now be considered, without the attempt to make of this portion of the book a coherent whole. "And Abraham said unto his eldest servant of his house, that ruled over all that he had, Put, I pray thee, thy hand under my thigh: and I will make thee swear by the Lord, the God of {368} heaven, and the God of the earth, that thou shalt not take a wife unto my son of the daughters of the Canaanites, among whom I dwell: but thou shalt go unto my country, and to my kindred, and take a wife unto my son Isaac."[1] In the East the general custom is that the "speaking concerning a damsel" in behalf of a young man is entrusted to the most distinguished of his male relatives. Sometimes women are included in the mission. They approach the young woman's father and clansmen in a very dignified and formal manner, and, if possible, secure the "promise" for their son. It is only in rare instances that this significant undertaking is entrusted to one who is an alien to the groom's family (_ghareeb_) and who acts as an ambassador. Abraham was compelled to assign this duty to his trusted servant, because the patriarch had no relatives in Canaan. His demand from his servant to put his hand under his master's thigh and {369} swear by the God of heaven and earth that he would do as he was asked is characteristically Oriental. The custom of calling upon God to "witness" a promise or a covenant between two individuals or clans is still extant in Syria. The placing of the hand under the thigh, however, is no longer done, but the habit of placing the hand under the girdle (_zinnar_) for the same purpose is generally practiced. However, it is the one who makes the request who puts his hand under the girdle of the one from whom the favor is asked. _Eedy tahit zinnarek_ (my hand is under your girdle) means I come to you with the fullest confidence to do such and such a thing for me. In the eastern parts of Syria this practice is highly valued. Putting one's hand under another person's girdle is almost the equivalent of entering "under his roof" for protection from a pursuing enemy. If at all possible, the favor must be granted. I have no doubt that this custom is a survival in a different form of that of placing the hand under the thigh in making a solemn promise. {370} Abraham's experience upon the death of his wife with "the children of Heth" and with "Ephron son of Zohar," presents an interesting picture of Oriental courtesy. In the twenty-third chapter of Genesis, beginning with the third verse, the record reads, "And Abraham stood up from before his dead, and spake unto the sons of Heth, saying, I am a stranger and a sojourner with you: give me a possession of a burying-place with you, that I may bury my dead out of my sight." The burying-places in the East are clannish or church possessions. The Orientals, now as in ancient times, dread "a lonely grave." It is always expected that a worthy stranger be offered a burying-place for his dead in a sepulcher of the community where he happens to be, as that he should be offered the hospitality of a home. So we read, "And the children of Heth answered Abraham, saying unto him, Hear us, my lord: thou art a mighty prince among us: in the choice of our sepulchres bury thy dead; none of us shall withhold from thee his sepulchre." {371} That was noble of the children of Heth; they upheld the noblest Oriental tradition by their generous act. So also did Joseph of Arimathea when he took Jesus' body, "wrapped it in a clean linen cloth, and laid it in his own new tomb, which he had hewn out in the rock."[2] Abraham, however, who expected to be a permanent dweller in Canaan, wished to have a burying-place of his own. So the aged patriarch said again to the Hittites (verse 8), "If it be your mind that I should bury my dead out of my sight, hear me, and entreat for me to Ephron the son of Zohar, that he may give me the cave of Machpelah, which he hath, which is in the end of his field." But Ephron would not be outdone in courtesy by his kinsman; at least he would not be accused of having omitted the nice formalities of such an occasion. "Nay, my lord," he said to Abraham (verse 11), "hear me: the field give I thee, and the cave that is therein, I give it thee; in the presence of the sons of my people give I it thee: bury thy dead." {372} To me this sounds "very natural." Ephron meant simply to be courteous. It is an Oriental custom to avoid a business transaction whenever a question of hospitality is involved, although it is not expected that the gift would be received as offered. The language on such occasions is purely complimentary. An Oriental offers to give you anything you may admire of his personal possessions, but as a rule you are not expected to accept the offer. Ephron did not really mean that he would give his field to Abraham without money and without price, but he would have Abraham know that he was ready to befriend him in his sorrow, and not to deal with him simply as a customer. The patriarch acknowledged the kindness by bowing himself down before the Hittites, but would not accept the field as a gift. Thereupon Ephron quoted the price of the field to the father of Israel in a truly characteristic Syrian fashion, by saying (verse 15), "My lord, hearken unto me: a piece of land worth four hundred shekels of silver, what is that betwixt me and thee? {373} bury therefore thy dead." The gentle hint accomplished its purpose, "and Abraham weighed to Ephron the silver which he had named in the audience of the children of Heth, four hundred shekels of silver, current money with the merchant." In speaking of the haste in which the Israelites were compelled to leave Egypt, the writer of the Book of Exodus says,[3] "And the people took their dough before it was leavened, their kneading-troughs being bound up in their clothes upon their shoulders." In the thirty-first verse it is said that Pharaoh "called for Moses and Aaron by night, and said, Rise up, and get you forth from among my people." As a rule the Syrian housewife kneads the dough in the evening in order that it may "leaven" during the night and be ready for baking early the next morning. The saying, "And the people took their dough before it was leavened," is meant to show that they departed before the early {374} morning hours. Apparently the Israelites had wooden kneading-troughs such as at present the Arabs in the interior of Syria still use. The Syrians use earthen basins.[4] What is called kneading-trough in the Bible resembles a large chopping-bowl, but is heavier and not so perfectly round as the chopping-bowl which is commonly used in the American home. In this basin the bread is also kept after it is baked. In the thirty-ninth verse it is said, "And they baked unleavened cakes of the dough which they brought forth out of Egypt, for it was not leavened; because they were thrust out of Egypt, and could not tarry, neither had they prepared for themselves any victual." The "cakes" are known to the East as _melleh_; this is the word the Arabic Bible uses. The _melleh_ is a round cake or loaf about fifteen inches in diameter and about three inches thick. It is baked, unleavened, on the _redhef_; that is, hot pebbles. The fire is built over an especially prepared bed of small stones; when these are {375} thoroughly heated, the _melleh_ is placed upon them and covered with the live coals until it is baked. The shepherds in the mountains of Syria bake the _melleh_ very often and think there is no bread like it in delicious flavor and sustaining quality. It was such a "cake" which Elijah fed upon on his way to "Horeb the mount of God." In the nineteenth chapter of the First Book of Kings, the fourth verse, we are told that Elijah "sat down under a juniper tree: and he requested for himself that he might die; and said, It is enough; now, O Lord, take away my life; for I am not better than my fathers." It is of no small significance that the legend states that the Lord answered Elijah's prayer in terms of food. The prophet was both tired and hungry, so when he "lay and slept under a juniper tree, behold, then an angel touched him, and said unto him, Arise and eat. And he looked, and, behold, there was a cake baken on the coals, and a cruse of water at his head." We have no record that Elijah after he had eaten {376} of the _redhef_ cake, which was provided, no doubt, by the shepherds in that region for the _nasik_ (hermit), ever longed for death. In the sixth chapter of the Book of Judges, the eleventh verse, begins the story of Gideon, the "mighty man of valour," who delivered Israel out of the hands of the Midianites. "And there came an angel of the Lord, and sat under an oak which was in Ophrah, that pertained unto Joash the Abiezrite: and his son Gideon threshed wheat by the wine-press, to hide it from the Midianites." It is a prevailing belief in the East that spirits and angelic visitors appear especially under trees and by streams of water. Huge oaks are often found in burying-grounds and in front of houses of worship. "Rag trees" also may be seen in many localities in Syria. A rag tree (_shajeret-omm-shrateet_) is a supposedly sacred or "possessed" tree, generally an oak, on whose branches the people hang shreds of the garments of afflicted dear ones for the {377} purpose of securing healing power for them. When the angel visited him, Gideon, we are told, was threshing wheat by the wine-press. The more correct rendering of the Revised Version and of the Arabic is, "Gideon was beating out wheat in the wine-press." As I have already stated,[5] the grapes are squeezed by being trodden in a large stone-flagged enclosure, which is about the size of an ordinary room. As the harvest time comes early in the summer, long before the wine-making season, Gideon could use the clean floor of this enclosure to beat out wheat, with a fair chance of escaping being discovered by his oppressors, the Midianites. He was not "threshing." He was beating with a club the sheaves he had smuggled, before threshing time came when the Midianites exacted their heavy toll from oppressed Israel. Threshing is done with the threshing-board (_nourej_), which is called in the Bible the "threshing instrument." The _nourej_ resembles a stone-drag. It consists of two heavy pine planks joined {378} together, and is about three feet wide, and six feet long. On its under side are cut rows of square holes into which sharp stones are driven. It is these sharp stones which Isaiah, refers to when he says, "Behold, I will make thee a new sharp threshing instrument _having teeth_; thou shalt thresh the mountains, and beat them small, and shalt make the hills as chaff."[6] The sheaves are scattered on the threshing-floor about a foot deep; the thresher attaches the threshing-board to the yoke and sits on it, with his goad in his hand. As the oxen which "tread the corn" drag the heavy board round and round, the sharp stones cut the sheaves. In three days the "threshing" is ready to be sifted. The finely cut sheaves are thrown up into a heap and tossed up in the air with large wooden pitchforks. The breeze blows the chaff and straw away, leaving the heap of the golden grain in the center of the threshing-floor to gladden the eyes of the grateful tiller of the soil. To this "purging" of the threshing-floor--that {379} is, the freeing of the wheat from the chaff and straw--Luke alludes in the third chapter, the seventeenth verse, where he says, referring to the Christ, "Whose fan is in his hand, and he will thoroughly purge his floor, and will gather the wheat into his garner; but the chaff he will burn with fire unquenchable." The reference to the burning of the chaff is meant to show its comparative worthlessness. I am not aware that the Syrian farmer always takes the trouble to burn the chaff, which is not easy to gather after the wind has carried it away from the threshing-floor and scattered it over acres of ground. The coarser part of it, which falls near the floor, is gathered and saved to be used in making the clay mortar with which the houses are plastered, and also sun-dried brick. We always went to the threshing-floor and secured a few bagfuls of chaff which we used in the annual plastering of the floor of our house. Among the chief joys of my boyhood days were those hours when I was permitted to sit {380} on the threshing-board and goad the oxen which carried me round and round over the glistening, fragrant sheaves. I often bribed the owner to grant me the precious privilege; and even now I should in all probability prefer threshing after this manner to an automobile ride. In the seventh chapter of the Book of Judges we have a description of the simple process by which Gideon's army, with which he attacked the Midianites, was selected. The very honest record states that out of thirty-two thousand men whom Gideon had first mobilized only three hundred stood the final test. That test was very simple. In the fifth verse it is said, "So he brought down the people unto the water: and the Lord said unto Gideon, Every one that lappeth of the water with his tongue, as a dog lappeth, him shalt thou set by himself; likewise every one that boweth down upon his knees to drink. And the number of them that lapped, putting their hand to their mouth, were three {381} hundred men: but all the rest of the people bowed down upon their knees to drink water." The three hundred constituted Gideon's army. Bowing down upon the knees while drinking from a stream or a bubbling spring (_fowwar_) is the prevailing custom in Syria. This kind of drinking is called _ghebb_; that is, the sucking in of the water with the lips. But to strong and wary men this is disdainful. Such a prostration betokens lassitude; besides it is not always safe for one to be so recklessly off his guard while traveling, and to render himself an easy prey to lurking robbers. Therefore the men of strength and valor (_shijaan_) upon approaching the water assume a squatting position, lift the water with the hand to the mouth and lap it quickly with the tongue. This manner of drinking indicates strength, nimbleness, and alertness. One of the most reprehensible Syrian habits is the mocking of those afflicted with diseases, or any sort of physical defects. I have no {382} doubt that the afflicted of Palestine flocked to Jesus to be healed by him as much for the purpose of escaping the shame of the affliction as of securing bodily comfort. "There comes the one-eyed man [_'awar_]"; "there goes the limping man [_afkah_]"; "the half dumb [maybe one who stutters] is trying to discourse"; "the hunch-back is trying to class himself with real men"; "the diseased head [_akkra'_] is approaching, give way." These and other stigmatizations are very extensively current in the East. In the story of Elisha[7] it is said, "And he went up from thence unto Bethel: and as he was going up by the way, there came forth little children ["young lads," Revised Version] out of the city, and mocked him, and said unto him, Go up, thou bald head; go up, thou bald head. And he turned back, and looked on them, and cursed them in the name of the Lord. And there came forth two she bears out of the wood, and tare forty and two children of them." What those children really said to Elisha {383} was, "Go up thou _akkra'_." The _akkra'_ is one who is afflicted with a disease of the scalp, a malady not uncommon among the poor people of Syria. Complete baldness of the head is spoken of also as _qara'_. It was this perhaps which the ill-mannered children noticed in the itinerant prophet. His cursing of the lads "in the name of the Lord" was no less an Eastern characteristic than their mocking of him. As to the coming of the hungry bears out of the wood and devouring or tearing forty-two of those children, all I can say is that such narratives, which filled my childhood days, are deemed by Syrian parents to be the best means to teach the children not to be naughty. In the opening verses of the fourth chapter of the Second Book of Kings we have the record of Elisha's kindness to a poor widow. "Now there cried a certain woman of the wives of the sons of the prophets unto Elisha, saying, Thy servant my husband is dead; and thou knowest that thy servant did fear the Lord: and the {384} creditor is come to take unto him my two sons to be bondmen. And Elisha said unto her, What shall I do for thee? tell me, what hast thou in the house? And she said, Thine handmaid hath not anything in the house, save a pot of oil. Then he said, Go, borrow thee vessels abroad of all thy neighbors, even empty vessels; borrow not a few. And when thou art come in, thou shalt shut the door upon thee and upon thy sons, and shalt pour out into all those vessels, and thou shalt set aside that which is full. So she went from him, and shut the door upon her and upon her sons, who brought the vessels to her; and she poured out. And it came to pass, when the vessels were full, that she said unto her son, Bring me yet a vessel. And he said unto her, There is not a vessel more. And the oil stayed." The belief in the miraculous increase of certain products, especially oil and wheat, is prevalent in Syria. In almost every community stories of such occurrences are told. Godly men and women, largely of the past, are said to have {385} seen such wonders, and to have spoken of them to many before their death. Such blessings are supposed to come especially on the blessed night of Epiphany.[8] In the locality where I was brought up, the miracle of "increase" was said to happen in this wise: In some holy hour the cover of the jar of oil is thrown off by some unseen power and the oil begins to flow out of the mouth of the jar. The person who is fortunate enough to see such a sight must show neither fear nor surprise, but in the spirit of deepest prayer he must bring empty vessels and receive into them the increase. If he should fear or manifest surprise, the blessed flow would immediately cease, but if he receives the blessing in a spirit of gratitude and prayer the flow continues until all the vessels that can be brought are filled. But only godly men and women can see such a sight. Among the noble traditions of our clan is the story of one godly man of the Rihbany stock who witnessed the "miracle of increase" in his own storehouse. The flow of {386} the blessing stopped, however, when his wife, who went into the storehouse to see why he was there so long, came in and threw up her hands in surprise at the strange occurrence. From childhood I heard this enchanting story, but I never felt deeply curious to investigate it until after I had gone to the American mission school in my native land. Then I sought the son of the "godly man" and begged him to tell me all that he knew about it. He assured me of his firm conviction that the miracle did happen in their storehouse when he was too young to see such wonders, and that his father and mother both saw it and spoke of it on occasions. At the time I became interested in the study of the origins of such narratives, both those good parents were dead. But why allow shallow curiosity to weaken one's faith in the great spiritual principle which underlies all such beliefs? Attach all such pious tales to the Oriental's foundation belief that all good comes from God, and they become intelligible and acceptable. His intellectual {387} explanations are faint attempts to grasp the great mystery of divine providence, to explain the ways of the Great Giver. If you do not attempt to make an infallible creed of these spiritual imaginings, they will serve as well as any intellectual devices to urge upon the mind the truth that ultimately "every good and every perfect gift cometh from above." Whether the resources were a few loaves and fishes, or thousands of loaves and fishes, it was God who fed the "five thousand," and it is he who feeds all the millions of his children through the annual miracle of increase in all the fields and vineyards of the world. In his heart-stirring prayer, which begins with, "Out of the depths have I cried unto thee, O Lord," the writer of the one hundred and thirtieth Psalm says, "My soul waiteth for the Lord more than they that watch for the morning: I say more than they that watch for the morning." The Revised Version's rendering, "More than watchmen wait for the {388} morning," limits the sense of the text, and, consequently, fails to express fully the phase of Eastern thought to which the Psalmist alludes. I have no doubt that the ancient poet meant that his longing for the manifestation of God was as keen as the longing of _el-mûtesehhid_ for the dawn. This term comes from _sûhad_ (sleeplessness). Eastern poetry is full of references to the _sûhad_, either from fear or other intense feelings like sorrow or love. In a land of tribal feuds and where wild beasts abound, the night is full of terror. _El-mûtesehhid_ "wrestles" with the night, keenly observes the stars which mark the night watches, and restlessly watches for the advent of the day to dispell his haunting fears. The Arabian poet exclaims, "Oh, the night's curtains which are like the waves of the sea are fallen upon me, to afflict me with every type of anxiety. It seems that the Pleiades [which marked the march of the night] have been arrested in their course by being tied with hemp ropes to an adamant!" It is not the watchman only that is meant {389} here. He might watch keenly for the morning in times of fear, but the reference is to all those who watch for the morning in times of _sûhad_--a state which Orientals readily understand. The Psalmist would have that confidence and cheer in the presence of the Lord which come to the restless watcher of the night with the dawning of the day; that inward calm and peace which only the presence of God in the soul can give. "Thus saith the Lord God, Behold, I will lift up mine hand to the Gentiles, and set up my standard to the people: and they shall bring thy sons in their arms, and thy daughters shall be carried upon their shoulders."[9] The reference in these lines is to the custom of carrying the children in the East. The habit of carrying the children on the shoulders is, I believe, unknown to the West, but is universal in the East. In early infancy the little ones are carried in the arms. (The Revised Version {390} prefers the word "bosom.") As soon, however, as the child is old enough to sit up alone, it is carried on the shoulder. The mother lifts the child and places it astride her right shoulder, and instinctively the little one clings to her head, where there is no dainty hat to hinder. The custom is so familiar to the mothers that often one sees a mother spinning or knitting with the child astride her shoulder. As is well known, the message in the lofty strains of the later Isaiah is the glad tidings of the restoration of scattered and oppressed Israel. It is a prophecy born of Israel's ever-lasting hope that God will not cast off his own forever. So the prophet assures Israel in the name of the Lord that he will lead the alien peoples, not only to let Israel return to its own home, but to carry the children of the "chosen people" in their arms and on their shoulders, as do the servants of aristocratic parents. The prophet's hope of the restoration of his own people appears in the succeeding verse clothed {391} in language which Oriental aristocrats love to use. It is the phraseology of earthly glory and a narrow vision of national destiny, which the New Testament liberates and enlarges. Says Isaiah: "And kings shall be thy nursing fathers, and their queens thy nursing mothers: they shall bow down to thee with their faces toward the earth, and lick up the dust of thy feet." Our world still has many grave faults, but it has certainly progressed since the days of Isaiah. In the third chapter of St. Matthew's Gospel, the eleventh verse, John the Baptist, in paying his tribute to the coming Messiah, says: "I indeed baptize you with water unto repentance: but he that cometh after me is mightier than I, whose shoes I am not worthy to bear: he shall baptize you with the Holy Ghost, and with fire." The same thought is expressed in the somewhat different presentation in the third chapter and sixteenth verse of Luke's Gospel, where it is said, "the latchet of whose shoes I am {392} not worthy to unloose." I have already stated elsewhere that to the Syrians the feet are ceremonially unclean; therefore it is very improper for one to mention the feet or the shoes in conversation, without first making ample apology by saying to his hearer, _Ajell Allah shanak_ (may God elevate your dignity); that is, above what is about to be mentioned. In the presence of an aristocrat, however, no apology is sufficient to atone for the mention of such an unclean object as the shoes. Therefore, when one says to another, in pleading for a favor, "I would carry your shoes, or bow at your feet," he sinks to the lowest depth of humility. So when some of those who came to him to be baptized thought that John the Baptist was the Promised One of Israel, he humbled himself in Oriental fashion by saying that he was not worthy to carry the shoes of the coming Deliverer, or even to touch the latchet with which those shoes were tied to the ankles. In this last expression, the sandals, rather than the shoes, are meant. {393} The three evangelists, Matthew, Mark, and Luke, speak of the woman who was healed from a long illness by touching the hem or border of Jesus' garment. Luke's version is found in the eighth chapter, and the forty-third verse, and is as follows: "And a woman, having an issue of blood twelve years, which had spent all her living upon physicians, neither could be healed of any, came behind him, and touched the border of his garment: and immediately her issue of blood stanched. And Jesus said, Who touched me? ... Somebody hath touched me: for I perceive that virtue is gone out of me. And when the woman saw that she was not hid, she came trembling, and falling down before him, she declared unto him before all the people for what cause she had touched him, and how she was healed immediately. And he said unto her, Daughter, be of good comfort: thy faith hath made thee whole; go in peace." The belief that holy persons and holy things impart divine power to those who trustfully and reverently touch them is not exclusively an {394} Oriental possession. The Orientals, however, have always believed this doctrine. The woman mentioned in the Gospel followed a custom which no doubt antedated her own time by many centuries. The practice is followed by Orientals of all shades of religious opinion. As a son and adherent of the Greek Orthodox Church in my youth, I always considered it a great privilege to touch the hem of the priest's garment as he passed through the congregation, elevating the Host. To me the act was a means of spiritual reinforcement. I never would pass the church building without pressing my lips to the door or to the cornerstone of the sanctuary. Virtue, as I believed, came out of those sacred objects into me. The interpretation of the details of such records as the passage which is before us can be easily pressed too far. Such Gospel pictures should be sought for the general impression they make upon the mind, and not subjected to minute critical analysis as the reports of a scientific expedition. Jesus' reported saying, "for I perceive that virtue is {395} gone out of me," refers perhaps to the belief that holy persons impart virtue or spiritual power to those who come in touch with them. Whatever really happened in Palestine nineteen hundred years ago, this belief is well founded. Whomsoever and whatsoever we love and reverence becomes to us a source of power. Many indifferent and merely curious persons touched Jesus, but nothing happened; for the _garment_ possesses no healing virtues. But when an afflicted woman came to him with dearest hope and deepest prayer, the mere touch of his person reinforced her strength and revived her spirits. The Master indicated plainly that the healing power was not in the garment when he said to the woman, "Daughter, be of good comfort: _thy faith_ hath made thee whole; go in peace." In the story of the crucifixion[10] we read: "And as they led him away, they laid hold upon one Simon, a Cyrenian, coming out of the country, and on him they laid the cross, that {396} he might bear it after Jesus. And there followed him a great company of people, and of women, which also bewailed and lamented him. But Jesus, turning unto them, said, Daughters of Jerusalem, weep not for me, but weep for yourselves, and for your children.... For if they do these things in a green tree, what shall be done in the dry?" The saying with which the passage ends is current in Oriental speech in various forms. Of one who is greedy and voracious it is said (when the thing he eats is not very tempting), "If his tooth works so effectively in the bitter, what would it do in the sweet?" And, reversing the Scriptural saying, "If the dry is so palatable to him, how much more must the green be!" Again, "If one is not good to those that are his kin, what must he be to strangers?"--and so forth. Jesus' saying to the women who followed him, "Daughters of Jerusalem, weep not for me, but weep for yourselves, and your children," facilitates the understanding of the closing sentence {397} of the passage. He admonishes them not to lament the state of one who, though condemned, is utterly innocent, but the state of those who are so hard of heart, so devoid of human sympathy as to condemn one so innocent. With amazement he exclaims, "For if they do these things in a green tree, what shall be done in the dry?" If they deal so cruelly with a good and innocent person, what must be their attitude toward a real culprit. The mention in the Gospel of the crowing of the cock recalls to my mind a very familiar Oriental expression. The shrill sound of the wakeful fowl always served us in the night as a "striking clock." We always believed that the cock crew three times in the night, and thus marked the night watches. The first crowing is at about nine o'clock, the second at midnight, and the third about three in the morning. The common people of Syria house the chickens in a small enclosure which is built, generally, immediately under the floor of the house. It has one {398} small opening on the outside, which is closed at night with a stone, and another opening on the inside, through which the housewife reaches for the eggs. So "the evening crow," "the midnight crow," and the "dawn crow" can be very conveniently heard by members of the household. And how often, while enjoying a sociable evening with our friends at one of those humble but joyous homes, we were startled by the crowing of the cock, and said, "Whew! it is _nissleil_ [midnight]." The hospitable host would try to trick us into staying longer by assuring us that it was the evening and not the midnight crow. Now some "enlightened" critics assert that "in fact the cock crows at any hour of the night." Well, the critics are welcome to their "enlightenment." For us Syrians of the unsophisticated type the cock crowed only three times, just as I have stated, and thus marked for us the four divisions of the night. The New Testament makes definite reference to the "evening crow" and the "dawn {399} crow." As a rule the cock crows three times (separated by short intervals) at the end of each watch of the night. We are told that after the Last Supper, the Master and his disciples "went out into the mount of Olives," where Jesus said to them, "All ye shall be offended because of me this night.... But Peter said unto him, Although all shall be offended, yet will not I. And Jesus saith unto him, Verily I say unto thee, That this day, even in this night, before the cock crow twice, thou shalt deny me thrice."[11] This refers to the "evening crow," for the entire scene falls in the early evening. And so it was that when Peter did deny his Master in most earnest terms, "he went out into the porch; and the cock crew."[12] Again, while Peter was still being questioned as to whether he was not one of Jesus' followers, "he began to curse and to swear, saying, I know not this man of whom ye speak. And the second time the cock crew."[13] {400} The other passage[14] refers to the "dawn crow." "Watch ye, therefore: for ye know not when the master of the house cometh, at even, or at midnight, or at the cock-crowing, or in the morning." In speaking of the speedy and mysterious "coming of the Son of man," in the twenty-fourth chapter of Matthew, Jesus alludes to the grinding at the handmill--a very common Syrian custom. The portentous saying in the forty-first verse is: "Two women shall be grinding at the mill; the one shall be taken, and the other left." The _jaroosh_ (handmill, literally, "grinder") has always been considered a necessary household article in Syria.[15] Our family possessed one, which, however, was shared by the families of my two uncles. The _jaroosh_ consists of two round stones--an upper and a nether--from eighteen to twenty inches in diameter, and about four inches in thickness. It is a portable {401} article. The two stones are held together by a wooden pin which is securely fastened in the center of the nether stone, and passes through a funnel-shaped hole in the center of the upper stone. A wooden handle is inserted near the outer edge of the upper stone. As a rule a strong woman can grind a small quantity of wheat at this mill alone. But as coöperation tends to convert drudgery into pleasant work, the women grind in pairs. The mill is placed on a cloth--something like a bed-sheet--or on a sheepskin. The two women sit on the floor, exactly opposite, and of necessity close to each other, with the mill between them. They both grasp the wooden handle and turn the upper stone with the right hand, while they feed the mill through the funnel-shaped hole with the left hand. The circular shower of coarse flour falls from between the stones onto the cloth or skin below. At present the handmill is rarely used in Syria for grinding wheat into flour, which is now ground by the regular old-fashioned, {402} waterwheel flouring mills. The _jaroosh_ is used in the Lebanon districts and in the interior of Syria for crushing wheat into _bûrghûl_. The wheat is first boiled and then thoroughly dried in the sun on the housetop. Just before it is poured into the mill the wheat is dampened with cold water, so that while it is being crushed it is also hulled. The _bûrghûl_ is one of the main articles of food among the common people; it is especially used for making the famous dish, _kibbey_.[16] The whole season's supply of a family is ground in one or two evenings. The occasion is usually a very gay one. The neighbors gather around the mill, the men help in the grinding, and the telling of stories and singing of songs make of what is ordinarily a hard task a joyous festival. The foregoing makes evident the meaning of the passage as used by the evangelist. "The coming of the Son of man," that great consummation of all things in the advent of the Kingdom, which the faithful disciples of Christ {403} hoped and prayed for, was to be so swift and so mysterious that only the fully awake and watchful could have a share, in it. No one could tell who would be included in the Family Kingdom. For even those, who in this world sat as close together as "two women grinding at the mill," were not certain of being taken together. "Watch, therefore: for ye know not what hour your Lord doth come."[17] It is vain to deny that this watchfulness, this expectation of the sudden and mysterious coming of the Kingdom, has been a mighty factor in the development of the Christian Church. Among my correspondents who have been readers of my articles in the "Atlantic Monthly," are those who are interested to know the attitude of the Syrian Christians in general toward the creeds and dogmas of the Church as they are known and accepted in the West, and also whether I would not enlarge the scope of this publication so as to include {404} in it a discussion of certain doctrines which claim to have firm Scriptural basis. As may be very readily seen, these questions involve the study of a complexity of subjects which the original plan of this book was never intended to compass. Again the author feels that it would be inexcusable boldness on his part to enter a field of thought which noted scholars and historians have thoroughly explored, and to pretend to discuss issues which only such scholars have a right to discuss. However, in compliance with the requests of those interested readers I will contribute my mite to the vast literature of a very old subject. As is well known to church historians, the Syrian Christians of the Semitic stock have had very little to do with the development of the "creeds of Christendom." Theological organization has been as foreign to the minds of the Eastern Christians as political organization. They have always been worshippers rather than theologians, believers rather than systematic {405} thinkers. Their religious thinking has never been brought by them into logical unity, nor their mysticism into full metaphysical development. The Oriental has been a lender in religion and a borrower in theology. The course of religion ran from the East to the West, the course of theology ran from the West to the East. Had it been left to itself, it is certain that the Christianity of Palestine never would have built up such a massive structure of doctrine as the Athanasian Creed. Wherever the great doctrinal statements of our religion may have originated,--whether in Rome, Constantinople, Antioch, or Alexandria,--their essential parts were Greek and Roman, and not Oriental. The Christian Church had its simple origin with a group of Jewish followers of Jesus Christ in Palestine, but it had its marvelous expansion and organization among the "Gentiles." In Palestine the faith of the Church may be said to have been instinctive, but {406} among the Gentiles and under Greek and Roman influences that faith became highly reflective. Faith in God the Father, and in his Son (by anointing) Jesus Christ, and love of the brethren, constituted the simple creed of the Palestinian Christians. It is not within my power, nor do I deem it necessary here, to trace the steps by which this simple faith was transformed into a ponderous, learned, and authoritative creed, whose essentials were finally fixed in the early years of the fourth century. It is sufficient for the purpose of this sketch to state that when the great doctrines which were wrought by the Ecumenical Councils were thus fixed, sealed with an "anathema," and backed up by imperial and ecclesiastical power, the churches which refused to accept them had but a very slender chance to live. The intention of those beneficent ecclesiastics and politicians who controlled the actions of the Councils was to do away with the schismatic spirit in the Church and to have "one flock and one shepherd." {407} Thus it may be readily realized that it was not very long after the crucifixion when the subtle mentality of the Greek and the organizing genius of the Roman began to assume control of the thought and practice of the Syrian churches. Excommunication, exile, and martyrdom swept away in course of time all obstacles out of the way of the "authoritative creed"; simple faith in Christ was forced to be hospitable to intricate scholastic statements of doctrine, and "love of the brethren" gave way, as a bond of union, to ecclesiastical authority. When the ambitious ecclesiastics of Rome and Constantinople finally brought about the great schism which divided Christendom into two bodies, known as the Eastern and the Western, or the Greek and the Latin churches, the churches of Syria aligned themselves with either the one or the other. The creeds became to those churches party slogans and means of division and hatred, and thus Christ was "divided," and those who claimed to be his followers, in both the Orient and the Occident, {408} took up the cry, "I am of Paul; and I of Apollos; and I of Cephas." So the doctrines of the Syrian churches of every name are essentially those of the two great Roman Catholic and Greek Orthodox communions. In answer to the second question I will say that I have refrained from doctrinal discussion in the present work; first, because so many of the speculative doctrines of Christendom have very little to do with the New Testament; second, because the central purpose of this publication is simply and purely to give the Oriental background of certain Scriptural passages, whose correct understanding depends upon knowledge of their original environment. I have deemed it unnecessary even to follow in the footsteps of the "higher critics" and inquire into the "genuineness" and "non-genuineness" of some of those passages. For the purpose of this work every Scriptural passage which reflects a phase of Eastern thought and life is "genuine." The aim of the author is {409} that this book shall be as free from labored arguments as the simple statements of the Gospel themselves. There is perhaps no phase of human thought which the Christian churches have not used in the advancement of their divisive creeds and pet speculative doctrines. There is an untold number of doctrinal documents which are now lying in the libraries of the world as repositories of moth and dust. They are of the earth earthy. The idea of universal brotherhood and human solidarity which is agitating the minds of men of all races and countries at the present time, is leading the Christian bodies back to the simple faith of Jesus of Nazareth, and causing them to heap contempt upon their technical subtleties and forced uniformities of intellectual belief. At least Protestantism is beginning to be sympathetically aware of its own precious heritage, and to feel the urging of its own genius. Free and coöperative individualism is winning signal victories over the unnatural authority of creed in the Protestant {410} bodies, and the bondage of the letter is giving way to the freedom of the spirit. The Gospel of Christ is triumphing over the theories _about_ Christ, and spiritual self-fulfillment by becoming Christ-like is crowding out of existence all theories of magical salvation. The creed of the theologians consists of many "articles"; the creed of Christ only of two,--"Love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and thy neighbor as thyself." I prefer Christ's creed. THE END [1] Gen. xxiv: 2-4. [2] Matt. xxvii: 59, 60. [3] Exod. xii: 34. [4] See page 198. [5] See page 283. [6] Is. xli: 15. Revised Version. [7] 2 Kings 11: 23-24. [8] See my autobiography, _A Far Journey_, page 94. [9] Is. xlix: 22. [10] Luke xxiii: 26-31. [11] Mark xiv: 27-30. [12] Mark xiv: 68. [13] Mark xiv: 71, 72. [14] Mark xiii: 35. [15] See Deut. xxiv: 6. [16] See page 233. [17] Matt. xxiv: 42. {413} INDEX Admittance of an infant into the Church, 37-40. Agricultural life, in America, 285; in Syria, 286-94. _'Aish_, the sacred, 194. American and Syrian modes of thought, contrast between, 126, 127. American farmer, lack of romance in his life, 285. American life, interpretation of, 9, 10. American mind, attitude toward conception and birth, 22. American women, highly regarded by men, 314; cultivation and privileges of, 316. American youth, seem to be indifferent to filial obedience, 52, 53. Angels as heavenly messengers, 12. Anglo-Saxon, the, and the Oriental, as they appear to each other, 57; the reserve of, 72, 73; uses deeds rather than words in his quarrels, 95; curtness of, 108; has high regard for woman, 313. Anointing the feet, 226-28. Arabic, the language of the Syrians, 175; poetry, 354. Athanasian Creed, 405. Atheism unknown among the Orientals, 84, 85. Athens, 264. Baking of bread in Syria, 200-02. Baldness, 383. Baptism, 38, 221. Barrenness, 20. Basins for kneading, 198, 374. Beard, swearing by the, 172, 173; the sacredness of the, among Orientals, 172. Bears, 382, 383. Bed, letting down the, 270-72; taking up the, 272. Bethlehem, star of, 31, 36, 37, 41. Betrothals, 221. Bible, the, cast in Oriental moulds of thought, 4; reads like a letter from Syria, 5, 6; characteristics of, 5, 6; as a repository of divine revelation, knows no geographical limits, 6; as literature, an imported article in the Western world, 7; misunderstood through misunderstanding of Syrian life, 11; critics of, 41, 119, 128; inaccuracy of statement in, 110-14; metaphors and exaggerations of, 119-25; many passages of, to be judged by what they mean rather than by what they say, 139; the positiveness of speech of, 184, 188; prominent mention of Mary and Martha as Jesus' entertainers in, 207, 335; the words _home_ and _house_ in the translation of, 243; purpose of St. John's Gospel, 343-45. _Passages cited or expounded_: Acts x, p. 277-79; xvi: 15, p. 210; xvii: 17, p. 264; xviii: 18, p. 17; xxi: 10-13, p. 116; xxi: 23, p. 18; xxvi: 8, p. 21. Amos iii: 12, p. 308; iv: 5, p. 98; vi: 3-4, p. 229. 1 Cor. vii: 4, 14, p. 326; vii: 26, p. 184; xi: 5, p. 332; xi: 7-8, p. 329; xiv: 34, p. 333. 2 Cor. ix: 6, p. 83; xi: 26-27, p. 246. Deut. xxi: 15-17, p. 100; xxi: 18-21, p. 336; xxiii: 25, p. 291; xxiv: 6, p. 400; xxv: 7, p. 98; xxv: 15, p. 100; xxviii, 15, 42, p. 294; xxviii: 62, p. 32; xxxii: 39, p. 91. Eccles. vii: 6, p. 290. Ephes. v: 22-23, p. 328; v: 25-29, p. 326. Exod. x: 40, p. 293; xii: 3, 6, p. 233; xii: 11, p. 254; xii: 34, p. 373; xii: 39, p. 374. Ezek. xvi: 1-4, p. 30; xxxiv: 11-13, 16, p. 304. Gal. iii: 28, p. 325; vi: 7, p. 83. Gen. i: 27, p. 330; iii, p. 54; iv: 23, p. 138; xv: 5, p. 33; xviii: 2-3, 5, p. 206; xviii: 16, p. 221; xxi: 23, p. 167; xxii: 16, p. 169; xxiii: 3-6, p. 370; xxiii: 8-9, p. 371; xxiii: 11, p. 371; xxiii: 15-16, p. 372; xxiv: 2-4, pp. 367, 368; xxiv: 10-11, p. 260; xxiv: 30-33, p. 192; xxiv: 53-54, pp. 192, 193; xxiv: 60, p. 23; xxvii: 28-29, p. 338; xxvii: 38, p. 339; xxx: 1, p. 23; xxxi: 53, p. 171; xlix: 25, p. 346. Hebr. vi: 13, p. 170. Is. iv: 6, p. 241; xxxviii: 12, p. 296; xl: 11, p. 306; xli: 15, p. 378; xlvii: 13-14, p. 36; xlix: 22-23, pp. 389-91; lviii: 11, p. 248; lxii: 8, p. 170; lxiii: 2, p. 283. Jerem. lxviii: 38, p. 275. Job xiii: 15, p. 180; xxi: 32, p. 213; xxiv: 11, p. 284, xxix: 1-6, p. 141; xxxi: 32; p. 213. John i: 47-48, p. 282; ii: 4, p. 340; ii: 13-16, pp. 134, 135; iv: 21, 23, p. 342; x: 1-4, pp. 297-99; x: 1-16, p. 295; x: 11, p. 304; xii: 2, p. 224; xii: 3, p. 226; xiii: 23, p. 65; xiii: 26, p. 68; xiii: 28-29, p. 69; xv: 5, p. 280; xv: 9, 12, p. 102; xix: 25-26, p. 345; xxi: 15-16, p. 183. Joshua ix: 12, p. 251. Judges vi: 11, p. 376; vi: 36-40, pp. 181, 182; vii: 5-6, p. 380; vii: 12, p. 260; viii: 7, p. 290; xii: 5-6, p. 176; xix: 5-10, pp. 219-21; xix: 14-21, pp. 211, 212. 1 Kings viii: 37, p. 292; xix: 4, p. 375; xix: 19, p. 287. 2 Kings 11: 23-24, p. 382; iv: 1-6, pp. 383, 384; iv: 22, 24-25, p. 14. Lament. v: 10, p. 202. Lev. xii: 2-4, p. 385; xxv: 35, p. 123; xxvi: 26, p. 202. Luke i: 28, 31, p. 20; ii: 8-14, pp. 42, 43; ii: 12, 15-16, p. 28; ii: 22, p. 37: ii: 29, p. 39; ii: 41, p. 48; ii: 44, p. 50; ii: 51, p. 51; iii: 16, p. 391; iii: 17, p. 379; iv: 18, p. 186; v: 19, pp. 270-71; vi: 1-11, p. 291; vi: 38, p. 267; vii: 36-38, p. 226; viii: 33, p. 158; vii: 43-48, p. 393; ix: 62, p. 288; x: 4; p. 255; xi: 5-7, p. 214; xi: 8-9, p. 217; xi: 11, 23, 27, p. 346; xii: 13-15, p. 156; xiii: 12, p. 342; xiv: 16-23, p. 210; xv: 8-16, pp. 152-57; xv: 20-23, pp. 206, 207; xviii: 2-5, p. 179; xxii: 15, p. 74; xxii: 19, p. 65; xxii: 44, p. 75; xxiii: 26-31, p. 395. Mal. iv: 1, p. 202. Mark 1: 32-33, p. 110; ii: 3-4, p. 270; iii: 20, p. 222; v: 13, p. 158; vi: 31, p. 223; viii: 15, p. 152; x: 17-21, p. 101; x: 24, p. 132; xii: 38, pp. 263, 264; xiii: 35, p. 400; xiv: 17-20, p. 60; xiv: 23, p. 63; xiv: 27-30, 68, 71-72, p. 399; xiv: 53, 66-71, p. 177. Matt. i: 20-21, p. 16; ii: 11, p. 27; iii: 7-9, pp. 117, 118; iii: 11, p. 391; v, p. 120; v: 29-30, p. 119; v: 34-37, pp. 173, 174; v: 39-41, p. 121; v: 42, p. 122; v: 43-45, p. 97; vii: 2, p. 265; viii: 32, p. 158; x: 9-10, p. 249; x: 12-13, p. 87; x: 16, 22, 26-27, p. 274; xi: 16-17, p. 264; xiii: 24-30, pp. 146-48, 288; xiii: 33-35, pp. 149, 199; xiii: 34, p. 145; xiii: 44, p. 161; xv: 28, p. 342; xvi: 6, p. 152; xvi: 13, p. 112; xvi: 21-23, p. 134; xvi: 25-26, p. 112; xvii: 1, p. 112; xvii: 19, p. 128; xviii: 3, p. 187; xviii: 10, p. 89; xviii: 12-14, pp. 308, 309; xviii: 15-17, pp. 135, 136, 139; xviii: 21-22, p. 133; xviii: 23-35, pp. 136, 137; xix: 24, p. 130; xx: 9, p. 277 n.; xxiii: 24, p. 133; xxiv: 17, p. 269; xxiv: 41, p. 400; xxiv: 42, p. 403; xxvi: 7, 20, p. 224; xxvi: 21, p. 59; xxvi: 23, p. 58; xxvi: 27, 29, p. 237; xxvi: 37-39, p. 76; xxvi: 49, p. 71; xxvi: 73, p. 177; xxvii: 59-60, p. 371; xxviii: 20, p. 65. Mic. iv: 4, p. 282. Prov. x: 7, p. 89; xi: 22, p. 351; xii: 4, p. 351; xxi: 9, p. 273; xxvii: 22, p. 234; xxxi: 10-31, pp. 355-57; xxxvii: 22, p. 234. Psalms v: 7, p. 38; viii: 3-4, p. 31; xviii: 2-3, p. 245; xix, p. 36; xix: 1-2, p. 32; xix: 9, 11, p. 86; xx: 22, p. 39; xxiii, pp. 73, 295; xxiii: 1, p. 297; xxiii: 3, pp. 302, 303; xxiii: 4, pp. 305, 309; xli: 9, p. 193; xliv: 14, p. 141; xlvi: 1-2, p. 245; li, p. 73; lxi: 3, p. 241; lxxx: 8-9, 14-15, p. 281; cix: 8-13, pp. 92, 93; cxix: 71-72, p. 245; cxxviii: 3, p. 281; cxxix: 5-8, p. 88; cxxx: 1, 6, p. 387; cxxxix: 1-6, p. 82; cxlv: 16, p. 195; cxlvii: 4-5, p. 33. Rom. vi: 13, p. 120; ix: 1, p. 168; ix: 13, p. 99; xii: 1, p. 168; xii: 19, p. 91. Ruth ii: 4, p. 88. 1 Sam. xx: 27-29, p. 235. 2 Sam. x: 4-5, p. 172. Sol. ii: 10-14, pp. 352, 353; iv: 1-3, p. 353; vii: 1-9, p. 353. 1 Thess. iii: 6, p. 64. Zeph. i: 4-5, p. 276. Birth, of Jesus, 12; a miracle, 20; attitude of Syrian mind toward, 20-25; attitude of American mind toward, 22, 24; of man-child, 27-29; customs at, 28. _See_ Nativity. Blood Covenant, the, 160. Books on the East, 10. Borrowing and lending, 122-24, 215. _Bosom_, in the translation of the Bible, 267. Bread, unleavened, 150; not to be eaten until errand is known, 191, 192; considered to possess mystic sacred significance, 193; the "life-giver, " 194; offering of, 194; of life, Christ, 194; "our daily bread, " 196, 197; the Oriental's attitude toward, is religious, 197; the process of mixing, 198-200; the process of baking, 200-02; bought by weight, 203; always eaten with a sense of sacredness, 237, 238; carried on a journey, 250, 251; does not mould in Syria, 251. Bread and salt, 191-95, 238. _Bûrghûl_, an article of food, 402. Burning pit, the, 201. Burying-places in the East, 370, 371. "Business success, " 53. Cakes of the Bible, 374-76. Cameleers, 260-63, 265. Camels, caravans of, 259, 260; the watering of, 261, 262; riding on, 262, 263. Caravans, 259, 260. Carnivals, 233. Carob tree, the, 158, 159. Carrying children on the shoulder, 389-91. Chaff, 379. Childlessness, evidence of divine disfavor, 20, 23. Children, a heritage from the Lord, 23, 24; presentation of, at the temple, 37; owe obedience to both mother and father, 335, 336; carrying on the shoulder, 389-91. Christ. _See_ Jesus. Christian Church. _See_ Church. Christians, oaths of, 170, 171; Syrian, of the Semitic stock, have had little to do with the development of creeds, 404; creed of the Palestinian, 406. Christmas, 41. Christmas carol, 41, 45. Church, spoken of as the vine which God has planted, 281; the origin and the expansion and organization of, 405; division of, 407, 408. Churches, of Syria, 407, 408; the Greek and the Latin, 407; the Roman Catholic and the Greek Orthodox, 408. Clarke, Adam, and Jesus pilgrimage to Jerusalem, 49; on the parable of the treasure hid in the field, 161, 162. Clocks in Syria, 277 n. Clothing made at home in Syria, 363. _Coat_ and _cloak_, the words, 121, 253. Cock crow, 397-99. Coin, lost, parable of the, 152-55. Coming of the Son of man, the, 400-03. Conception, attitude of the Syrian mind toward, 20-25; attitude of the American mind toward, 23, 24. Constantinople, 405, 407. Corruption, fermentation considered to be, 151, 152. Couches, reclining on, 227-30; sleeping on, 271, 272. Courtesy, example of Oriental, 370-73. Creed-makers of Christendom, 128. Creeds, 403, 404, 407, 409, 410. Crier from the housetop, 273, 274. Critics, of the Bible, 41, 119, 128; of Paul and Christianity, 328; higher, 408. Crowds, 222-24. Crowing of the cock, 397-99. Crucifixion, the story of the, 395-97. Culture gives strength and symmetry to religious thought, 85. Curses. _See_ Imprecations. Curtness of the Anglo-Saxon, 108. Da Vinci, Leonardo, his painting of The Last Supper, 58, 59, 67. Dependence of the Oriental, 72, 73. Dialects of the Oriental's speech, 175-78. "Dipping in the dish, " 58, 60, 61. Disobedience, 54, 335, 336. Distaff, the, 359, 360. Dough, 373. Drawing water, 261. _Drink_, the word as used in the Bible, 193 n. Drinking, at feasts, 61-63, 236, 237; manner of, 380, 381. Eating, 58-61, 222-24. Ecumenical Councils, 406. Eleventh hour, the, 277 n. Elijah, 375. Elisha, the story of, 382, 383; his kindness to a poor widow, 383, 384. Enemies, love of. _See_ Love. Evolution, not altogether compulsory, 242. Exaggeration, Oriental fondness for, 118. "Eye-of-the-needle" passage, the, 130-32. Faith, of the Oriental, 21; Syrian idealization of, 129; early Palestinian, 406. Familiar friend, the, 193. Family, spoken of as a vine, 281. Farmer, the American, 285; the Syrian, 286-94. Fasting, 15. Feasts, fraternal, in Syria, 56-69, 221; family, 231-38. Fecundity, a gift of the Lord, 20; leaven a symbol of, 150. Feet, washing and anointing, 226-28; unclean in a ceremonial sense, 228, 292. Fermentation, considered to be corruption, 151, 152. Fig tree, and the vine, the Oriental's chief joys, 280; sitting under, 281, 282. Filial obedience, 51-55, 335, 336. Flocks of sheep and goats, and their folds, 295, 296; returning, 300; the shepherd's guidance of, 301, 302; the gathering of the, 303. Folds, sheep and goat, 295-98. Forgiveness, 133-39. Forty days, the purification period, 38. Garment, cure effected by touch of, 393-95. Gathering of the flock, the, 303. Gentiles, the, 405, 406. Gesticulation of the Oriental, 115-17. Gethsemane, the kiss in, 70, 74, 76. _Ghebb_ (sucking of the water with the lips), 381. Gideon, the story of, 376, 377; his army, 380, 381. Girdle, the Syrian, 252, 253; placing the hand under, 369. Goad, the Syrian, 286, 288, 378. Goatfolds, 295-98. Goats, the calling of, by name, 299. God, called shelter and refuge, 241, 244, 245; the Oriental's belief that all good comes from, 386, 387. Good pleasure, 335-39. Gospel. _See_ Bible. Gracious woman, a, 348-64. Grain, measuring, 265-67; threshing, 377-80. Greeks, their custom of reclining at meals, 225. Green tree, 396, 397. Grinding wheat, 400-03. Guest, at the feast, 62; sudden arrival of, 213-16; delaying the departing, 218-21; departure of, 221; invited in families, 221, 222; sit on the floor, 222; and _zad_, 250. Hair, cutting the, release from vow, 17, 18. Handmill, 400-03. _Harem_, the, 333, 334. _Hate_, the word, in the Arabic tongue, 99; in the Bible, 99, 100. Hatred and love, 104-06. Hidden treasures, 161-66. Holidays, 221. Home, no word for, among the Syrians, 241, 243; the word in the translation of the Bible, 243. Honoring father and mother, 335. Horn, symbol of strength, 245 n. Hospitality, of Orientals, 205; extended by the man, not the woman, 205-07, 334, 335; Syrian fashion of extending, 208-13; compulsion to accept, 210, 214; Syrian rules of, 213-21; to the traveler, 249, 250. Host, the man, not the woman, acts as, 205-07, 334, 335; the urging of hospitality by, 208-21; bringing the guest on the way, 221; and _zad_, 250. _House_, Syrian use of the word, 241-44; the word in the translation of the Bible, 243; the word precious to the Oriental, 244. House, the Syrian, 242, 269. Housetop, the shouting of wares from, 269, 273; easily reached, 269, 270; making an opening in, 270-72; the construction of, 271; sleeping on, 272; to dwell on, 273; calling from, 273, 274; used for household purposes, 275, 402; praying on, 275-79. _Hûrmat_, term for _wife_, 333; term for _woman_, 342. Husband and wife, according to St. Paul, 326-29, 358. Husks, 158. Hyenas, 307, 308. Imploring, Oriental habit of, 178-81, 217. Importunity, Oriental habit of, 178-81, 217. Imprecations, 88, 91-95, 146. _See_ Swearing. Impressions _vs._ literal accuracy, 115-39. Inaccuracy, intellectual, of the Oriental, 108-14. Increase, the miracle of, 384-87. Indefiniteness, effect produced by, 138, 139. Individualism, 409. Infant, the, in Syria, 28, 29; admittance of, into the church, 37-40. Ingersoll, Robert, 128. Inheritances, division of, 155, 156. Interpretation, sympathetic, a duty of present-day culture, 19. Isaiah, 36. _Jaroosh_ (handmill), 400-02. Jerusalem, arraignment of, 30; Jesus goes on pilgrimage to, 47-51. Jesus Christ, a man without a country, 3; belongs to all races and all ages, 3; as regards his modes of thought and life and his method of teaching, was a Syrian of the Syrians, 4; never out of Palestine, 4; story of his birth, 12; goes on pilgrimage to Jerusalem, 47-51; filial obedience of, 51-55; closing scenes in his personal career, 56, 72; his command to his countrymen to love their enemies, 96; and the money-lenders, 123-25; tendency of, to use parables, 146; his command in regard to swearing, 173, 174; his words to Peter, 183; entertained by Mary and Martha, 207, 335; the anointing of his feet, 226-28; sending his disciples forth, 249; his injunction, "Salute no man by the way, " 255, 257; his first meeting with Nathaniel, 282; on dishonoring the sacred day, 291, 292; and his mother, 340-45; his conversation with the Samaritan woman, 342; as the incarnation of the Logos, 343-45; cure effected by the hem of his garment, 393-95; the crucifixion of, 395-97; conversation of, with Peter after the Last Supper, 399; the Gospel of Christ is triumphing over the theories about, 410; his creed, 410. John, "leaning on Jesus' bosom, " 65-67. John the Baptist, 391, 392. Joseph, story of, 16. Journeys. _See_ Traveling. Judas, the treachery of, 67-71. Judicial contests, swearing in, 169. _Keyyal_ (measurer), 265, 266. _Kherrûb_ (carob), 158, 159. _Kibbey_, a dish of meat and crushed wheat, 233, 234, 402. Killing of the sheep, the, 231-33. Kiss, Judas's, 70, 71. Kissing, among men, a Syrian custom, 70, 71; of the hands of parents, 335. Kneading done in the evening, 373. Kneading-day, 198-200. Kneading-troughs, 374. _Kummer_ (girdle), 252, 253. Lambs, newly born, carried by shepherd, 306, 307. Language, daily, of the Syrian, is Biblical, 87-90; abstinence from "pious, " in America, 90. _See_ Speech. _Lap_, in the Bible, 267. Last Supper, the, 56-69, 74; in harmony with Syrian life, 56, 57; painted by da Vinci in Occidental form, 58, 59; appointments of, were Oriental, 59-69; no women at, 207, 334; conversation of Jesus and Peter after, 399. Leaven, parable of the, 149, 199; held in esteem by the Syrians, 150; the meaning _corruption_ figurative, 152; use of, in making bread, 199. Lent, 233-38. Leopards, 307. Levite, the story of the, 211, 212, 219-21. Life, of a people, cannot be studied from the outside, 7-11; to the Oriental an inheritance, 242. _Like_ ("to be favorably inclined toward"), not in the Bible or the Arabic tongue, 98; in English version of the Bible, 98. Literature, difficult to understand if it has not sprung from the people's racial life, 6; the Bible as, 7. Loaves, parable of the three, 214-17. Locusts, 292-94. Lord's Prayer, the, 196. Love, of enemies, 96-106; not of our own making, 97; meaning of, in the West, 98; meaning of, in the East, 98-102; speaks of the greatest thing in the world, 103; and hatred, 104-06; assurances of, 182. Man-child, birth of, 27-29. _Marafeh_, feast of the, 233-37. Market-place, Syrian, and the caravan, 259; a place of sociability as well as business, 263, 264; measuring grain in, 265-68. Marriage in the East, 348-50. Marriage wishes, 23, 24. Martha, not at the Last Supper, 207, 208, 335. Mary, not at the Last Supper, 207, 208, 335; Jesus and, 340-45. Maternity, pilgrimage for, 12-16. _Mathel_, meaning of, 140. Mattresses, 216. Measure, the generous, 265-68. Measurer, the, 265-68. Mecca, 47. _Melleh_ (cakes), 374, 375. Merchants, muleteer, 269, 273. Metaphor, Oriental fondness for, 118. _Midd_ (a wooden measure), 265, 266. Miracles, 20, 21, 384-87. Mocking of the afflicted, 381-83. Modesty the chief charm of the Oriental woman, 332. Mohammedans, pilgrimages of, 47; oaths of, 169, 170; position of women among, 318 n., 331. Molasses, the method of making, in the East, 285. Money-lenders, 123-25. Mortar, 379. Mother, claiming same obedience as father, 335, 336; Jesus and his, 340-45; the mother's milk, 345-47. _Mouldy_, in translation of the Bible, 251. Mount Zion, meeting in the upper room on, 56-69. Muleteer, merchants, 269, 273. Mustache, swearing by, 171-73. Mysticism, 41, 42. Nativity, narrative of the, 37, 41-44. Nazarite (_nedher_), 16, 18. _Nezel_, 62. Oaks, 376. Oaths. _See_ Imprecations, Swearing. Obedience, filial, 51-55, 335, 336. Oil, miraculous increase of, 384-86. Open space, the, in Syrian villages, 210. Optimism, 45. Oriental, the, and the Anglo-Saxon, in each other's eyes, 57; not afraid to "let himself go, " 57, 72; dependence of, 72, 73; craves sympathy, 73; the vision of, 77; his manner of speech, 81; has not achieved much in the material world, 83; his supreme choice has been religion, 84; always conscious of God and the soul, 84; does not know of atheism, 84, 85; has always lived in a world of spiritual mysteries, 86; his imprecations, 91-95; considers his personal enemies to be the enemies of God, 93; more cruel in words than in deeds, 95; the unveracious, 107-14; intellectual inaccuracy of, 108; expects to be judged by what he means, not by what he says, 115, 125; his speech is always illustrated, 115; fond of metaphor and exaggeration, 118; does not maliciously misrepresent, 126; use of parables and proverbs, a characteristic of, 140; makes no distinction between a parable and a proverb, 140; his contempt for swineherds, 157, 158; his tendency to swear, 167-74; the dialects of his speech, 175-88; his habit of imploring, 178-81; the intimacy and unreserve of his speech, 181-83; the unqualified positiveness of his speech, 183-88; bread and salt to, 191-95; his understanding of the prayer "Give us our daily bread, " 196, 197; religious attitude of, toward bread, 197; bread-making of, 198-204; hospitality of, 205-17; his table appointments, 222, 320; life is an inheritance to, 242; the word _house_ precious to, 244; his method of salutation, 255-58; knows no business without sociability, 263; his reputed lack of regard for women, 314, 315; gives man the precedence, 316, 317; his manner rather than intentions toward woman at fault, 318, 319, 322, 323; has only comparatively slight acquaintance with the art of living, 319; his life simple and without exacting standards, 319, 320; his social activities simple, 321; hates to be standardized, 321; abhors formalities in the family circle, 321, 322; the family system of, patriarchal, 323, 328; his attitude toward woman according to St. Paul, 325-33; limits woman's social privileges because of fear for her, 330, 331; his descriptions of feminine loveliness, 351-55; his description of the virtuous woman, 355-64; example of courtesy of, 370-73; his belief that all good comes from God, 386, 387; his belief in the efficacy of touch to impart divine power, 394; has been a leader in religion and a borrower in theology, 405. _See_ Syria, Syrians. Oven, of the Bible, 200-02. Overcautiousness in the pulpit, 186, 187. Palestine, 405. Parable, of the prodigal son, 142; 152, 155-61, 206, 207; to picture demoralization beyond redemption, 143, 144; on partiality, 144, 145; of the wheat and the tares, 146-49; of the leaven, 149, 199; of the lost sheep, 152, 308; of the lost coin, 152-55; of the treasure hid in the field, 161-66; of the unrighteous judge, 179, 180; of the three loaves, 214-17. Parables, speaking in, 140-66; and proverbs, Oriental makes no distinction between, 140; fondness of Oriental for, 140, 141; sociableness of, 142. Parents, honoring and obeying, 51-55, 335, 336. Passover, feast of the, 49. Path, the beaten, 301, 302. Patron saints as heavenly messengers, 12. Paul, his statements concerning the Syrian attitude toward women, 325-33. Pebble, the covering of the, 203, 204. Personality, secret of, an impenetrable mystery, 4. Pessimism, 45. Peter, his experience in the palace of the high priest, 177, 178; Jesus and, 183; his vision, 276-79. Pilgrimage, meaning, to a Syrian, 13, 14; the _zeara_, 13-17, 47, 48; of Jesus to Jerusalem, 47-51; still common in Syria, 47; occasion of union among the common people, 221. Place of residence, the term, 243. Plough, the Syrian, 286-88. Poetry, dominant feature of Oriental speech, 108; description of feminine loveliness in, 354, 355. _Porter_, in translation of the Bible, 298. Positiveness of speech, Oriental fondness for, 118, 132, 183-88. Prayer, 15; the Lord's, 196. Prayers of the Scriptures, due to persistence in petitioning, 180. Praying on the housetop, 275-79. Presentation of child at temple, 37. Prodigal son, parable of the, 142, 152, 155-61, 206, 207. Pronunciation of the Syrians, 176-78. Protestantism, 409. Proverbs, use of, an Oriental characteristic, 140; and parables, Oriental makes no distinction between, 140. Psalms due to persistence in petitioning, 180. Purification period, 38. Purse, the, 252. _Rada'_ (cloak), 121, 122. _Radha_ (good pleasure), 335-39. Rag trees, 376. Rationalism, modern, 19. Rebecca, 23, 26. Reclining at meals, 224-30. _Refuge_, use of the term, 241, 244. Religion, gives life and beauty to culture, 85; the course of, has been from the East to the West, 405. Religions, the three greatest, have originated in Syria, 86. Remembrance, 63-65. Reproduction, attitude of Eastern peoples toward, 25, 26; attitude of Anglo-Saxons toward, 26. Retribution, 133-39. Revenge, idea of, lies deep in Oriental nature, 91. Rome, 405, 407. Roof. _See_ Housetop. St. John's Gospel, the purpose of, 343-45. Sacrament, feasts and, 56-71. Salt, used at births, in Syria, 28; bread and, 191-95, 238. "Salted, " 28-30. Salutation, the Oriental method of, 255-58. Sarah, 26. Scribes and pharisees, rebuke of, 132, 133. Scrip, the, 250. Scriptures, spring from soil whose life is active sympathy of religion, 85. Scriptures, the. _See_ Bible. Sermon on the Mount, the, 97. "Seventy times seven, " 133-39. Sheep, lost, parable of the, 152, 206-08; the killing of the, 231-33; the calling of, by name, 299; the return of, at evening, 300; guided by the shepherd, 301, 302; the gathering of, 303; their trust in their shepherd, 307. Sheepfolds, 295-98. _Shelter_, use of the term, 241, 244. Shepherd, solicitous watchfulness of, 296, 297, 299; his tent and dog, 298; going before the flock, 299, 300; the guidance of, 301, 302; the good, 304, 305; carrying newly born lambs, 306, 307; rescuing from wild beasts, 307-09. Shepherd life in Syria, 295-309. Shoes, 228 n., 292. Signs and wonders, 181. Sin, origin of, 54. Sitting at meals, 58, 224-30. Sleeping, on couches, 271; on the housetop, 272. Sleeplessness, 388, 389. Snow in Syria, 362, 363. Sociability, no business without, 263. Sociableness of parabolic speech, 142. Solomon's Song, the realism of, 352-55. "Sop, " the, handed to Judas, 68-70. Sower, the Syrian, 286-94. Sowing in Syria, 288, 289. Speech, Oriental's, his manner that of a worshipper, 81, 185; his daily, 81-90; imprecations, 90-95; intellectual inaccuracy of, 108; always illustrated, 115; full of metaphor and exaggeration, 118-39, 372; its positiveness, 118, 132, 183-88; parabolic, 140-66; swearing, 167-74; the many and picturesque dialects of, 175-78; habit of imploring, 178-81; its intimacy and unreserve, 181-83. Spindle, the Syrian, 359-61. Spinning in Syria, 358-61. Spiritual visions, little room for, in modern life, 46. Springs of water, 248, 249. Staff, the Syrian, 254. Star of Bethlehem, 31, 36, 37, 41. Star-gazers, 34, 35. Stars, Oriental attitude toward, 31, 32; multitude likened to, 32, 33; of persons, 33, 34; belief that they are alive with God, 36. Stoves, 200. "Strain at a gnat and swallow a camel, " 133 Streets, 210-13. Superstitions, 18-20. Swaddle, the, 28, 29. Swearing, 167-74. _See_ Imprecations. Swineherds, 157. Syria, life in, to-day, the same as in the time of Christ, 5, 6; life of, must be studied from the inside, 8, 10, 11; pilgrimages still common in, 47; events on Mount Zion and in Gethsemane illustrative of life in, 56-71; belief in regard to tares in wheat-field, common in, 148; hidden treasures in, 164, 165; sitting and reclining at meals in, 224-26; traveling in, 247-58; the market-place in, 259-68; caravans in, 259, 260; drawing water in, 261; measuring grain in, 265-68; the housetop in, 269-77; the vineyard and the fig tree in, 280-82; making wine in, 282-84; agricultural life in, 286-94; shepherd life in, 295-309; status of woman in, _see_ Oriental, Woman; marriage in, 348-50; the process of spinning in, 359-61; snow in, 362, 363; grinding wheat in, 400-03. _See_ Oriental, Syrians. Syrian and American modes of thought, contrast between, 126, 127. Syrian churches, 407, 408. Syrians, attitude toward miracles, 21; attitude toward conception and birth, 22; customs of, at birth, 28; attitude of, toward the stars, 31-36; their custom of kissing, 70; life revolves around a religious center to, 81, 82; their daily language is Biblical, 87-90; have no secular language, 87; mixture of piety and hatred characteristic of, 94; expect to be judged by what they mean, not by what they say, 115; love to speak in pictures, 115-17; their use of figurative language, 117; their regard for leaven, 150; the dialects of, 175-78; hospitality of, 205-30; family feasts of, 231-38; their use of the words _shelter_, _house_, _refuge_, 241-45; live for the most part out of doors, 241, 242; have no word for _home_, 243; lovers of their homes, 243. _See_ Oriental, Syria. _Sûhad_ (sleeplessness), 388, 389. Table appointments, 222, 320. Tares, 146-49. Tare-sickness, 147. _Tennûr_, for use in baking, 201. _Tent_, the term, 243. _Thaub_ (gown), 121. Theology, the course of, has been from the West to the East, 405. Theories about Christ, 410. Thigh, placing the hand under, 367-69. Thorns, 289, 290. Threshing, 290, 377-80. Threshing-board, 290, 377-80. Tiles, 271. Timepieces in Syria, 277 n. Touch, divine power imparted by, 393-95. Tourists, books by, 8, 10. Traitors, 67. Traveling, in America, 246; in the East, 247-58. Treading, the grapes, 283, 377; the grain, 290, 378. Treasure hid in a field, parable of, 161-66. "Treating, " 62. Unleavened bread, 150. Unrighteous judge, parable of the, 179, 180. Unveracity of the Oriental, 107-14. Vengeance, Oriental idea of, 91. Vine, and the fig tree, the Oriental's chief joys, 280; symbol of spiritual as well as physical family unity, 280; the church as a, 281; the family as a, 281. Vineyard, blessings for the increase of, 25. Vows, 16-18, 49. Wakefield, Mr., quoted, 162. Wallet, the, 250. Washing the feet, 226-28. Watching for the dawn, 387-89. Wedding songs, 247. Weddings, 221. Wheat, measuring, 265-67; plucking and eating, 291; threshing, 377-80; miraculous increase of, 384; the grinding of, 400-03. Wild beasts, 307-09. Wills, 155. Wine, the method of making, in the East, 282-84, 377; sweet and bitter, 284. Wine cup, the mystery of, 280. Wine-drinking, 15, 237. Wine press, 282, 283, 377. Wise Men, the, 27, 37, 44. Wolves, 307. Woman, with child, 26; East and West differ greatly in status of, 313, 314; Anglo-Saxon regard for, 313; reputed Occidental contempt for, 314, 315; culture and privileges of the American, 316; the Oriental indifferent to fine points of behavior toward, 316, 317; the Oriental does not consider man superior to, 317-19; Christian and Mohammedan, in Syria, 318 n., 331; explanation of the Oriental's attitude toward, 318, 319, 322; in home of cultivated Syrian, 323, 324; Syrian attitude toward, according to St. Paul, 325-33; of Syria, not always submissive, 329; her social privileges in the East limited because of fear for her, 330, 331, 349; a reason for veiling, in the East, 332; modesty the chief charm of Oriental, 332; why called _hûrmat_, 333; the _harem_, 333, 334; reason for man's precedence of, in social affairs, 334, 335; her place is in the home, 348; classified with reference to virtue and its opposite, 351; the Oriental's descriptions of, 351-55; the virtuous, description of, 355-64. _Woman_, as a term of address, 340-45. Woman-stealing, 330, 331. Wrestling in prayer, 12. Yusuf Balua', 305-09. _Zad_, 249-51. _Zeara_, the (pilgrimage to a shrine), 12-17, 47-48. _Zûkreh_ (remembrance), 63, 65. The Riverside Press CAMBRIDGE . MASSACHUSETTS U. S. A. 
40443	----	Transcriber's note: Text enclosed by underscores is in italics (_italics_). Small capital text has been replaced with all capitals. Archaic spelling and variations in spelling, punctuation and hyphenation have been retained except in obvious cases of typographical error. THE SPIRIT OF GOD AS FIRE; THE GLOBE WITHIN THE SUN OUR HEAVEN. REASONS FOR SUCH HYPOTHESIS FOUNDED UPON GOD'S OWN REVELATIONS AND RECENT DEVELOPMENTS THROUGH THE LIGHTS OF ASTRONOMY. BY D. MORTIMORE, M. D. PUBLISHED BY F. C. COOK & CO., NEW YORK. NEW YORK: SHELDON & COMPANY, 498 & 500 BROADWAY. 1870. Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1869, by D. MORTIMORE, M. D., In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States for the Western District of Tennessee. CONTENTS. PAGE PREFACE 7 THE THEME 13 THE IMMORTALITY OF THE SOUL AND A FUTURE STATE OF EXISTENCE 18 THE POSSIBILITY OF A MORE INTIMATE KNOWLEDGE OF GOD; OUR RELATIONS TO HIM, AND OF A FUTURE STATE OR PLACE OF HABITATION 28 THE CREATION 30 THE SUN, THE SOURCE OF LIGHT AND HEAT 33 WONDROUS WORKS OF GOD 35 THE DISCOVERIES OF THE MOTION OF THE EARTH AND HEAVENLY BODIES 43 THE ROMISH CHURCH 51 GHASTLY REVELATIONS 61 ATTRACTION, GRAVITATION, &C. 73 SUNS, STARS, PLANETS, &C. 75 FIXED STARS ARE SUNS 89 A CONTEMPLATION 96 THE SUN,--AND GLOBE WITHIN 100 THE PLANETS OF OUR SOLAR SYSTEM 108 GOD'S THRONE SHALL ENDURE FOREVER; SO ALSO SHALL THE SUN. SCRIPTURAL EVIDENCE FOR ALL THAT WE CLAIM 118 SUN AND HEAVEN 141 A PLURALITY OF HEAVENS 145 A PLACE FOR THE WICKED 150 THE NATURE OF THE LIGHT OF THE HEAVENLY WORLD 166 THAT HEAVENLY WORLD 169 THE DIMENSIONS AND CAPACITY OF THE CITY--THERE IS ROOM FOR ALL, AND TO SPARE 175 THE NATIVE POPULATION OF THE HEAVENLY WORLD 179 THE VAST NUMBERS OF THE ANGELS 183 AMAZING STRENGTH OF ANGELS 184 RAPIDITY OF MOVEMENT OF THE ANGELS 185 CERTAINTY OF A RESURRECTION 190 THE RESURRECTION 195 A SERIOUS CONTEMPLATION 201 THE FINAL JUDGMENT 205 A HOME IN HEAVEN 206 CONCLUSIVE AND CONCLUDING ARGUMENT 211 WILL ALL TAKE HEED? 215 APPEAL TO CHRISTIAN MINISTERS 218 APPEAL TO ALL 237 PREFACE. In presenting this volume to the "intelligence of the world," the author is fully aware of the incredulity with which it may meet in many literary minds. Nevertheless, the truths which it contains will remain unmarred by the salient attacks of "critics," when they have passed away and have ceased to be remembered. Thus it has ever been with the discovery of all great and important truths, from the creation of man down to the present day. For more than eighteen hundred years now past, the succession of a once prominent race have disbelieved in the Messiahship of Christ. And even the Christian world are still divided in their belief as to a Trinity in Unity. Some three hundred years ago, the great and learned philosopher and astronomer, Galileo, made an ascent in the empire of mind and science, and promulgated immutable truths founded upon the laws of creation, emanating from God himself; yet these were, for a time, disbelieved, and, through the bigotry of a controlling Priesthood, he was even forced to renounce them before a court of "Cardinals" of the Romish Church, sitting as "_inquisitors against heretical depravity_" at the city of Rome; and at the venerable age of seventy years, to accept the sentence to a dungeon for life, in the "Inquisition;" and yet these same truths have universally prevailed. So, also, are there unbelievers to-day, in the existence of a God, and the immortality of the soul--the truth of which all Christians, and even heathens, believe. We, therefore, feel that in advancing a new theory, especially one of such magnitude and import, that we shall meet more or less opposition; but we are willing to abide time's inevitable changes, in advancing the mind to grasp and comprehend truths which God himself has revealed for our contemplation. Still, we believe that there are many millions who are now ready to comprehend and believe, and are only waiting for a little additional light, or the grouping together of facts founded on the revelations of God, and examined in the light of a true science. Philosophers and astronomers have advanced the idea of "a plurality of suns, and a plurality of worlds," and have sustained this theory by the most convincing evidence. This lays the foundation for a further advance in the contemplation of the wonderful works of the Creator, and justifies the hypothesis of a _plurality of heavens_; and we think the revelations of God, and revelations through the science of astronomy, will sustain the additional hypothesis that within what are denominated "suns" there are vast globes or worlds, separate and apart from the surrounding _photosphere of ethereal fire_, and that within what we denominate our sun, _is our heaven_. We have, therefore, penned the following pages with this impression fixed in our mind, and send this volume forth to encounter the enlightenment of the age, to be sifted and weighed in the _sieve_ and _scale_ of intellect; and, relying on the Word of God and His revelations to man, we feel satisfied that when the ordeal is past, we shall still have remaining "full measure and weight." In order to afford a more perfect comprehension of the "wonderful works of God," and of His revelations to man, we have, necessarily, availed ourselves largely of the results of the science of astronomy, quoting the writings and conclusions of various eminent authors, giving due credit therefor; and to them the author acknowledges his indebtedness for statistical data and facts which could not otherwise be obtained by any single individual. Grouping these together as assistant lamps, we have relied, mainly, upon the Word of God, and His revelations, as found recorded in the Bible, and evidences manifest in perceptible and visible nature around us, while we trust that all we have written will the more forcibly impress the mind with deep humility, and with awe and reverence for the Great Jehovah, who created all by the "Word of His power." We have endeavored to avoid sectarian issues, as to Protestant communities, throughout the world--save our own convictions of immutable truth in regard to the true principles of Christianity, and that salvation is offered alike freely to _all_, and that by due repentance toward God, and faith in our Lord Jesus Christ, all may come to the knowledge of His Truth, and "know the Lord, whom to know aright is eternal life." And, believing as we do, that every soul is held alike accountable to God alone--and in nowise to Pope, Bishops, or Priests--there were historical facts connected with our subject, which, we thought, justified our strictures on the Romish Church, and these it may be well for Protestants to consider. We, therefore, dedicate this volume to the PROTESTANT WORLD, and, while we acknowledge our inability to do the subject ample justice; yet--hoping we have been made the humble instrument, under the direction of Divine Providence, of opening up to the mind a new field for profitable contemplation--we ask for it a candid perusal, in the spirit of prayer and Christian leniency, commending all to a careful consideration of the words of the _Psalmist_: "By the word of the Lord were the Heavens made, and all the hosts of them by the breath of his mouth. "The Heavens declare the glory of God, and the firmament sheweth His handy work. "Whoso is wise, and will observe these things, even they shall understand the loving-kindness of the Lord." THE AUTHOR. THE THEME. The theme we are now about to contemplate is one of deepest interest to the human mind. If we can fathom and unfold the mystery--as we believe we shall--by analogy, founded in the light of _reason_, Divine revelations, and the lights afforded us by the science of Astronomy, and give tangibility to the--hitherto--chaos of the mind upon the subject, we may lay the foundation for a more comprehensive and intimate knowledge of God, the great Creator of all things, and this knowledge should lead to more speedily Christianizing the world. God has made himself manifest in everything, and to every individual. Nature yields to this manifestation, yet does not comprehend it. Even man, the human family--the only creatures of a high order of intelligence placed by Him upon this earth--seem not to have risen to that comprehension of knowledge to which they should attain from his lessons of the Past, as well as those of the Present, and which lessons are renewed unto us day by day. Our principal theme is that of _the place of our future existence--especially_ HEAVEN. We approach the subject with fear and trembling, asking wisdom and Divine aid of Him who hath said, "Seek and ye shall find," and of whom it is written, "If any lack wisdom, let him ask of God, and it shall be given him." We know that we cannot throw that flood-tide of light upon the subject that the theme demands, yet we may be the humble instrument, under direction of Divine Providence, to mark out a path through the wilderness of doubt, along which may shine, or through which the "eye of faith" may catch, a ray of light from the bright "celestial throne," which may induce others--more able minds and giant intellects--to step forth, wielding mightily "the sword of the spirit," and open out to the mind a plainer path, as the "king's highway," leading up to that celestial world, to glory and to God. We believe that if a reasonable, tangible idea of the constant presence of God with us prevailed, as also of the heavenly world, and the glories that shall be revealed; the nature of the soul of man; from whence derived; the certainty that it must endure forever; the requirements of the law of God; the certainty of the judgment; who is to be the judge; the certainty that no error can be committed in His judgment; no influences can be brought to bear to defeat the ends of justice; that the righteous shall be adjudged to the enjoyment of happiness and eternal life; the wicked be "banished from the presence of God, and from the glory of His power," "to dwell in everlasting flame, and languish in eternal fire," and that this righteous judgment will never be revoked, but stand immutable as God Himself--on and on through all eternity--we say we believe if this could be fully comprehended by finite minds, the time would not be distant "when all _would_ come to a knowledge of the truth, and know the Lord, whom to know aright is eternal life." This knowledge should not be sought through fear alone, but mainly through love to God, and faith in His Son, our Lord Jesus Christ, and from the delights we feel in our consciousness of the constant presence of God--by His Spirit--with us; stimulated by love to our fellow-men; love of all Nature around us; love of the wonderful works of the creative power of the Omnipotent--even the vast wonders of His creations throughout His own native Empire. May we not? Can we not know more of all this? We are not forbidden to investigate, to found reason on His revelations. Nay, He hath said, "search the Scriptures, for in them ye think ye have eternal life, and these are they which testify of Me." We do not propose the building of a "Tower" like unto that of _Babel_, for He hath said, "not by _might_, but by my _Spirit_." Therefore, by the manifestations of His Spirit, which becomes sufficiently enlightening, when properly comprehended, we will endeavor to throw a faint--if not a flood-light from that eternal world into the eye of _faith_. And, if we cannot, like the martyr Stephen, "see Heaven opened, and the Son of man standing at the right hand of God," or ascend to it with "Elijah in a chariot of flaming fire," we may, by the mind's eye of faith, "see through the vail darkly," yet with sufficient light to direct us, and guide our wandering footsteps in the path that leads to that "bright clime," where the "glory of God" is the light of that heavenly world. Our theme necessarily leads us forth through trackless realms of boundless space, where, with the mind's eye, we shall behold with wonder and amazement some of the vast creations of the Omnipotent power of God; such as will inspire the mind, and fill it with awe and reverence for the Great Jehovah. We shall have a panoramic view of millions of Suns--_Heavens_--planets, and worlds, standing out, or careering through ethereal regions; peopling the realms of illimitable space. We shall comprehend more fully the diminutiveness of this earth; on which we dwell, as compared to the vast creations brought forth by the "Word of His power," and of our own nothingness before Him, while all must inspire us, not only with awe, but with gratitude and love for His merciful provision for our redemption, and for regaining "an inheritance which is incorruptible, undefiled, and that fadeth not away." _THE IMMORTALITY OF THE SOUL, AND A FUTURE STATE OF EXISTENCE._ The Bible--now "The Book of the World"--is God's own revelation to man. That it was penned by holy men of God, who wrote as they were inspired, has been fully manifested by the fulfilment of prophecies; many of which were miracles, and others--in their accomplishment--awful and fearful judgments. Hence, none can doubt its authenticity as God's own revelation to man. It is our only history of the wonderful creations emanating from the Great First Cause; especially the creation of _man_; his mortal, as well as his immortal nature. From this history we learn that "God created man in his own image; in the image of God created he him; male and female created he them. And God breathed into his nostrils the breath of life; and man became a living soul." Now, man is here spoken of in the plural: hence, the whole race--the entire human family, are included, and this living principle, emanating from God himself, partakes of his own immortal nature, and can never cease or be extinguished. Therefore, the soul, or spirit of man, must continue to endure through all eternity. The belief in a future state of existence has obtained in all ages; even in the dark regions of heathen lands, where the light of Christianity has never yet shed its radiance, and where missionaries have never penetrated. The mind of man--the thinking principle of human intelligence--seems to have comprehended this great truth; even where Christianity, founded upon Bible truths, is unknown. Indeed, the idea of the immortality of the soul of man seems _inherent_. For, go where we may, among the aborigines of every heathen clime, even from the Islands of the Bahamas to Hindostan, India, Japan, and China; the savage tribes of South America, the red tribes of our own continent, or even the black races of Africa--all hold the idea of a future state of existence. True, they may not have formed correct opinions as to the nature of the place to which they expect to be transported, nor of the felicities to be enjoyed there; yet all have the idea of a future state, and it has ever prevailed. If we trace history back to the ancient Egyptians, the Persians, the Scythians, the Assyrians, Greeks, and Romans; indeed, with all nations of which history gives us any knowledge, we find that it has ever prevailed. Plato, Socrates, and Demosthenes held the doctrine of the immortality of the soul, and of a future state of existence; while such belief almost universally prevails in every land and clime where civilization and Christianity are known. Thus we see it an inherent law of human nature, and, in the minds of all, there is "a longing after _immortality_." May we not ask, from whence comes this intuition, that all feel that death to the body is not the end of existence? Is it not that immortal spirit-life which God breathed into our first parents? that _spirit-fire_ which is eternal in its nature? that which can never be quenched nor extinguished? The Patriarchs, the Prophets, and Seers of old realized that here they had no abiding place, and that they were but pilgrims and strangers on the earth. We are told that Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob desired a better country, and looked forward to a heavenly one. Paul tells us "these all died in the faith, not having received the promises, but having seen them afar off." See how Moses submitted to sufferings, and endured privations; yet in all these he "had respect unto the recompense of reward." How many of those worthy ancients suffered persecutions in various ways for their acts of piety? even cruel mockings, scourgings, bonds, and imprisonments. Some were cruelly tortured, others were stoned, and still others sawed asunder; and yet under all these trials, and even scourgings unto death, they held firm in the faith of a living God, a future existence, and "a sure recompense of reward." See Job, that faithful servant of the living God, how his faith was sorely tried by all manner of afflictions. His flocks and herds destroyed; his wealth dissipated; while disease, painful and loathsome, preyed upon him. His sufferings and agonies were so intense that all his friends believed him cursed of God, and forsook him; and even his wife--who had enjoyed the fruits of his efforts in life, reviled his integrity of faith, and scornfully told him to "curse God and die." But let us hear this patient, suffering child of God: "_True_, my flesh is clothed with worms and clods of dust; my skin is broken and become loathsome, and I feel as though I would not live alway. Yet all the days of my appointed time will I wait, until my change comes, _and even_ though He slay me, yet will I trust in Him. I know that I shall be justified. For He shall be my salvation. If a man die he shall live again. And now, behold my witness is in heaven, and my record is on high. For I know that my Redeemer liveth, and that He shall stand in the latter day upon the earth. And though worms destroy this body, yet in my flesh shall I see God, whom I shall see for myself, and mine eyes shall behold." Where! oh, where, hath such faith been shown! And his faith being sorely tried and found true and unwavering, his God came to his relief, restored him to health, and blessed him--even more abundantly than before; after which he lived an hundred and forty years and died in peace. Here we see, that, long anterior to the coming of Christ, Job declared that he knew his Redeemer was then living, and that in the "latter days" he should "stand on the earth." See this truthful evidence of the Son of God coming down from heaven to ransom and redeem fallen man! The prophets foretold the coming of the Messiah, who should "ransom his people from the power of the grave," and "redeem them from the second death." The sweet singer of Israel, looking forward to coming ages, through the vista of revelations, breaks forth in rapturous confidence-- "Thou shalt guide me with thy counsel, and afterward receive me to glory. Whom have I in heaven but thee, and there is none upon earth that I desire beside thee. Though my heart and my flesh fail me, yet Thou art the strength of my heart and my portion forever." The prophet Isaiah declares, "Thy dead men shall live, together with my dead body shall they arise." And, calling in spirit unto the silent dead, he saith: "Awake and sing, ye that dwell in the dust, * * the earth shall cast out her dead." In fulfilment of prophesy, the Son of God came as the "plague of death" and "destruction of the grave." His advent into the world was signalized by a "star in the East," guiding the wise men--who were looking for his coming--to the "town of Bethlehem, where lay the babe in the manger." While an angel, commissioned by the Father, announced his arrival, and "good tidings of great joy" to the shepherds who were watching their flocks by night upon the plains of Judea, saying, "Unto you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord." "And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host, praising God," and, as a heavenly choir, sounding the loud anthem, "Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men." This was "Him of whom Moses in the law, and the prophets did write," even the "Sun of righteousness," whose coming was foretold by the prophet Malachi. By his teachings, and miracles wrought in after life, he proved his origin and mission. But this mission could not be fully accomplished until he should conquer death, hell, and the grave, and "bring life and immortality to light through his own Gospel." Finally, the day and the hour came for its complete fulfilment. Borne down with the weight of the sins of a guilty world, he prayed his Father to strengthen him, while "in agony he sweat great drops of blood." See him ascending the rugged steeps of Calvary, bearing his own cross, upon which his human nature must expire between Heaven and Earth. Nailed to that cross, he hung upon it in painful agony, and for three dreadful hours the sun, the source of light, was veiled, "and there was darkness over all the land," and about the ninth hour, his humanity "cried with a loud voice, my God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me!" and gave up the ghost. "And behold the vail of the temple was rent in twain from the top to the bottom; and the earth did quake, and the rocks were rent, and the graves were opened, and many bodies of the saints which slept, arose." Now, while his lifeless body was still suspended upon the cross, the work was not yet complete until the Roman soldier approached and plunged his spear into his side, and thus Baptized the world in a fountain of Blood. And, through faith in him, that is the only fountain that can wash our guilty stains away, and present us purified before his Throne. Mark you the circumstances as they then transpired. The sun was veiled, and "darkness prevailed over all the earth, from the sixth until the ninth hour," and it was at the ninth hour he cried, "It is finished and gave up the ghost." It was his mission "to bring life and immortality to light." God, the Father, had veiled the sun, that the earth should be in utter darkness. May it not have been the first act of His son's immortality--after this tragic scene--to unveil the sun, and throw its light--under a new dispensation--upon the world? But he had come to conquer "death, hell, and the grave," "and lead captivity captive." His body was placed in a sepulchre; from whence he had said he would rise on the third day. The Priests and Pharisees remembering this, besought Pilate, who commanded that the sepulchre be made secure, which was done by a great stone under seal, and a guard stationed over it, that no one might approach by day or by night. But, behold, on the morning of the third day, an "angel of the Lord appeared from heaven," whose descent caused a great earthquake, who "rolled back the stone and sat upon it; and his countenance was like lightning, and his raiment white as snow; and for fear of him the keepers did shake and became as dead men." The angel said unto the two Marys, "I know ye seek Jesus, which was crucified; He is not here, for he is risen." Thus, behold his triumph! He burst the bands of death asunder, and rushing forth from the tyrant's grasp, shouted in triumph over this last enemy, "Oh, death where is thy sting? Oh, grave where is thy victory?" "I am the resurrection and the life." "I am he that liveth and was dead, and behold I am alive forevermore, and have the keys of hell and of death." Thus the fulfilment of prophesy and the promise, that he should become the first fruits of them that slept. We have subsequent evidence of his resurrection, where he appeared in the midst of his disciples, when they had met in their private chamber and had closed the door. But there have been doubters, and unbelievers, in all ages--even though confirmative evidences have been strong and plain. So, also, was there one in that little assembly. Poor Thomas could not believe, even though his Lord and Master stood before him; but the Saviour, full of tender compassion, said to him: "Come, place thy fingers in the nail prints, and thrust thy hand into the opening made by the soldier's spear in my side, and be not faithless, but believing." Now while God through his prophet hath said, "There is a spirit in man, and the inspiration of the Almighty giveth him understanding," revelation is replete with evidence that "though a man die, yet shall he live again." Christ, the Son of God, illustrated his power in uttering the command, "Lazarus, come forth," and he that had been dead four days, whose mortality was fast decomposing and yielding to corruption, arose again into life. Thus in the days of his incarnation, he manifested his power by the miracles he wrought in numerous instances of restoring sight to the blind, causing the deaf to hear; the dumb to speak; the lame to walk; healing the sick; cleansing the leprous, and bringing the dead to life again: while, in the power of his own resurrection, he made triumphantly manifest the immortality of the soul; and the entire New Testament scriptures abound with evidences that through Him "life and immortality have been brought to light." Thus we see that the immortality of the soul, and a future state of existence are plainly manifest. _POSSIBILITY OF A MORE INTIMATE KNOWLEDGE OF GOD; OUR RELATIONS TO HIM,--AND OF A FUTURE STATE OR PLACE OF HABITATION._ We believe that God himself has furnished us evidences through which we should gain a more intimate knowledge of him; of our relations to him, and of our future state and place of habitation. In sustaining this belief, and the hypothesis we have already advanced, as to the location of heaven,--to which we shall also add our views as to the location of _hell_,--we shall rely mainly upon the revelations of God, as found recorded in the Bible. Should we not furnish positive, we believe we _shall_ furnish strong _circumstancial_, evidence which will as forcibly impress the minds of our readers with the correctness of our theory, as it has our own, upon the investigation of it. With this we shall grasp, and intermingle, the evidences afforded by the science of astronomy; the mighty revelations of the wondrous works of God as now revealed to us by the aid of the _telescope_. We know that some of the most learned theologians and ablest divines, of the past, as also many of the present age, have written, and have labored hard--theoretically--to point out to the mind's eye the locality of heaven, fixed somewhere in illimitable space. But, as yet, their most profound efforts, aided though they might have been by the lights afforded through the science of astronomy; the Bible, and all nature around them as assistants to their own brilliant imaginations, have failed to satisfy, even themselves, and all has resolved itself back again into doubt and uncertainty, leaving the minds of all bewildered with ideas as numerous, yet as vague and uncertain as mystery itself. And yet we believe we have within, and all around us, evidences which, if properly considered and comprehended, may shed true light upon the subject, and give to us ideas and faith more reasonable and tangible than any heretofore contemplated. _THE CREATION._ Let us now make some investigations of the evidences given us in the Bible in regard to creation. No one ever has, no finite mind ever can fully comprehend the creative power of the Almighty; nor can we form an idea of the time, in the remote past, when creation, "by the word of His power" commenced. We learn from Bible history, that "In the beginning God created the Heavens and the Earth." Now as to the time when that "beginning" was, we can form no positive idea. It is as reasonable to suppose it to have been untold millions of years ago, as at any later period. So far as this earth on which we dwell is concerned, it is but as an _atom_ when compared to the productions of His creative power; and of the time when this atom was created, no one knoweth. Geologists, tracing effects back to causes, agree on the fair probability that the earth--this globe and its solid elements--have been in process of change and formation, many thousands, and possibly millions, of years. These students understand, in a great measure, the laws which govern and control such formation in nature, and have data for their conclusions. As for the time when God created man to dwell on this earth, we need not now stop to investigate. But, continuing this history, we read: "And the earth was without form, and void; and darkness was upon the face of the great deep. And the Spirit of God moved upon the face of the waters; and God said, Let there be light; and there was light." Thus we see that the _Spirit_ of God was then, as it ever has been, and still is, the _source_ of light. Now, to our finite comprehension, the Sun is the source of light and heat; or, rather that which we denominate the Sun is a vast body or volume of intense heat, and heat--or that which we denominates _fire_--is, to us, the source of light. That God's spirit is fire, and light, we shall be able to show in our further contemplation of the subject The Psalmist tells us that: "By the word of the Lord were the heavens made, and all the hosts of them by the breath of his mouth." Job tells us that: "A flame goeth out of his mouth and God by his spirit garnished the heavens." Now let us bear these facts in mind: that the Psalmist speaks of a plurality of heavens made by the word and breath of God, while Job also tells us of a plurality of heavens, and that "a flame goeth out of his mouth," and "God by his Spirit garnished the heavens." We know that God is the Great First Cause, and the Creator of all things that exist. He created the Heavens and the Earth, Suns, Moons, Planets, and Stars, and all pertaining thereunto; as, also, the firmament of the heavens, in which all are placed; and while all come forth at His command, or by His word, yet we are plainly told, that His breath, or Spirit, was the active agency in this mighty creation. When we come to investigate the nature of this active agency--Spirit--we find that it is _fire_, a principle, or element which pervades all nature; one which is indestructible--can never be destroyed--and yet an element of destruction; indeed, one of seeming annihilation. Now, seeing that the element of fire pervades all things, so also are we told, that God's Spirit is everywhere. THE SUN--THE SOURCE OF LIGHT AND HEAT. First, acknowledging God--the Supreme, Infinite, and Eternal One--as the Great First Cause, and Author of all things created, we all know that the Sun is the mainspring of animated Nature. Without its genial rays, the present system of Earth's government could not endure, and life itself would soon disappear from our globe. It is the source of light and heat--the two great stimulants of vital force. Now, so far as we can comprehend, the _Sun_ is the immediate or direct source of light and heat--or fire--hence, the source of animated existence of all pertaining to this Earth; and so, also, as we believe, to all the other planets, or worlds belonging to our solar system, or within the Sun's vast domain. That source is fixed and permanent, and is ever the same; neither increasing nor diminishing, although constantly dispensing its influence to all around it. Its source is eternal, and it is, evidently, an attribute of Jehovah, and the time of its past existence we cannot comprehend, nor can we believe otherwise than that it will continue to exist through all eternity. We believe it one of God's eternal lamps, placed by His own Omnipotent power to light up the sphere which He has appointed unto it, and to give its warmth and animation to this, and all other worlds belonging to its domain. Cast your eye upward at noon-day, when no clouds intervene, and behold that brilliant orb, whose light pales that of all else, and seems to make all dark in illimitable space beyond its own empire. Look at it but for one second of time only, for a steady gaze at that bright flame for one minute alone, is fatal to the sight of the eyes. There _is_ "a dimning veil" to mortal vision, which hides the glories of that _inner world_ from our sight; even those resplendent glories which, while yet in the body, we can contemplate only by the eye of faith. _WONDROUS WORKS OF GOD._ We now propose to devote a short time to the contemplation of some of the wonderful works of the Creator, as we see them displayed in the firmament, and standing out in illimitable space, and, with the aids afforded us by that most exact of all sciences--astronomy--we hope to unveil mysteries, long since revealed by the revelations of God; yet, hitherto, not fully comprehended. These seeming mysteries, we shall endeavor to assist you to analyze by the light of God's own revelations. In order to our purpose, we shall avail ourselves of the writings of some of the most scientific, and eminent astronomers the world has ever known, even from the early days of Anaximander and Pythagoras, down to the times of Copernicus and Galileo, when feeble rays of light seemed to break in upon the intellect and mind of man, and from thence, the flood-lights which have been thrown in upon us by the Herschels,--the leading stars of the empire of this science,--and calling to our aid La Lande, Maury, Guillemin, Lardner, Darwin, Owen and Olmsted, and many others equally known to fame. Yet in our present effort, we shall rely mainly upon that master mind in compilation, Dr. Child, of England, who has grouped together the leading facts of discoveries, in order to incite the mind to the contemplation of the wonderful works of the Creator, that all intelligences of the world may be induced to join in with the three Hebrew Children, in "praising and magnifying the name of the Lord." We find, upon examination of the works of various leading authors, that his statements are as nearly correct as any compilation well could be, while, with a mind seemingly inspired for the work, his delineations are so graphic, sublime and beautiful, we shall take data, and quote freely from his writings, especially wherein he dwells upon the "Heavens," "Sun," "Moon" and "Stars," adding as we pass along, such reflections crowding upon our mind as we deem appropriate; and we think that in the contemplation of the subject now before us, that ere we have finished this feature of it, all will be ready to exclaim with the Psalmist, truly, "The heavens declare the glory of God, and the firmament sheweth his handy work." Dr. Child says, "Among all the sights the eye can look upon, nothing is comparable to the Heavens for the sentiment with which they charm the mind. The language they speak comes to us from remote mysterious worlds; but, though it may be imperfectly understood, it is at least universally felt. The great and the small--the civilized man and the savage, the philosopher, the divine, and the illiterate or humble citizen--all feel their influence, and are from time to time irresistibly drawn toward them by mingled emotions of admiration, gratitude and awe, such as none of the other features of nature can excite in an equal degree. "So strongly, however, is the idea of the 'incomprehensible' associated by many with the mysteries of the firmament, that they are habitually prone to regard the teachings of astronomers as little else than scientific guess-work. Nevertheless, the best intellects in all countries assure us, and demonstrate before our eyes, that, within certain limits, Astronomy is the most exact and perfect of sciences, and that, even when it deals with distances and magnitudes, which are practically inconceivable, its conclusions, though often claiming to be approximative only, have yet no affinity whatever with guess-work. Let such sceptics think of the certainty with which sidereal events are predicted beforehand. Let them reflect on the evidence of the most exact knowledge of the heavenly bodies involved in the calculation of eclipses, in fixing the very moment when the moon's dark outline shall begin to creep over the sun's bright disk; marking its progress to the highest maximum, and its waning--giving the moment when the last visible shadow will disappear--predicting the instant when a planet's light shall be extinguished behind our satellite. And yet even more wonderful, the tracking of a comet's wanderings, millions of miles beyond the far-off regions of Uranus, the foretelling the time of its return after long years of absence! Do not these, and a thousand other equally wonderful feats, attest both the soundness of the principles on which the astronomer works, and the reasonableness of receiving his assurances with confidence and trust, even though it may be impossible for more than a few gifted minds to follow the calculations on which they are based?" Examine the Nautical Almanac, published by the British Government, a chart found on every sea-going vessel. On the trackless ocean it is the mariner's guide, his trusted friend and counsellor. He may embark upon a long voyage over the trackless ocean, to be absent for years, yet through all this time, and in any part of the world he has his truthful friend to consult, who will warn him of dangers, and direct his ship in safety in every changeful clime. He left his native land years ago, yet now far out amid ocean's waves, in a different hemisphere, he consults this little chart of astronomers. He knows in any and every latitude the time of eclipses of the Sun and Moon, and of Jupiter's satellites, their sidereal positions, distances, etc. It seems charged with messages from the skies for his guidance and safety. "When we consider the acquisition of such rare and precious knowledge--this mapping out beforehand, almost to a hair's-breadth, the exact order and track in which the heavenly bodies will run their course through space, and the precise relative position they will occupy at any given moment, when they can be seen in any part of the world--is not this convincing evidence of the correctness and truthfulness of the science of astronomy?" But we have on record a more startling demonstration of its correctness--we say "startling" because of its magnitude and importance, and because when we come to examine suns, planets, and worlds, through the lights of this science, when we contemplate their distances, magnitudes, and numbers, we shall be startled by their immensity, and exclaim: "How wonderful are Thy works, O Lord of Hosts!" "The year 1846 will ever be memorable for having witnessed one of the most striking illustrations of the truth of Astronomy. Few can have forgotten the astonishment with which the discovery of the planet Neptune was then received, or the fact that it was due _not_ to a lucky or accidental pointing of the telescope toward a particular quarter of the heavens, but to positive calculations worked out in the closet; thus proving that before the planet was seen by the eye, it had already been grasped by the mind. The theory of its finding was a triumph of human intellect. The distant Uranus--a planet hitherto orderly and correct--begins to show unusual movements in its orbit. It is, somehow, not exactly in the spot where, according to the best calculations, it ought to have been, and the whole astronomical world is thrown into perplexity. Two mathematicians, as yet but little known to fame, living far apart in different countries, and acting independently of each other, concentrate the force of their penetrating intellects to find out the cause. The most obvious way of accounting for the event, was to have inferred that some error in previous computations had occurred; and in a matter so difficult, so abstruse, and so far off, what could have been more probable or more pardonable? But these astronomers knew that the laws of gravity were fixed and sure, and that figures truly based on them could not deceive. By profound calculations, each arrives at the conclusion that nothing can account for the "perturbation" except the disturbing influence of some hitherto unknown mass of matter, exerting its attraction in a certain quarter of the Heavens. So implicit, so undoubting is the faith of the French astronomer Leverrier, in the truth of his deductions, that he requests a brother astronomer in Berlin, Prussia, to look out for this mass at a special point in space, on a particular night; and there, sure enough, the disturber immediately discloses himself, and soon shows his title to be admitted into the steady and orderly rank of his fellow-planets. The coincidence of the two astronomers--Leverrier, of France, and Adams, of England, arriving at this discovery through scientific calculations, based upon knowledge derived from physical observation, precludes every idea of guess-work, while such was the agreement between their final deductions, that the point of the Heavens fixed upon by both as the spot where the disturber lay, was almost identical." "Such a discovery" says Arago, "is one of the most brilliant manifestations of the exactitude of the system of modern astronomy." Child continues: "Astronomy is without question, the grandest of sciences. It deals with masses, distances, and velocities, which in their immensity belong specially to itself alone, and of which the mere conception transcends the utmost stretch of our finite faculties. In no other branch of science is the limited grasp of our intellect more forcibly brought home to us, yet, though baffled in the effort to rise to the level of its requirements, our strivings are by no means profitless. Is it not truly a precious privilege to be able to trace, imperfect though it may be, the hand of the Almighty Architect in these, His grandest works, and to obtain by this means a broader consciousness of His Omnipotence? "Could each one be privileged to look through Herschel's telescope on a clear night, and visibly behold the wonders of the Heavens, our faith in the realities of astronomy would pass with a sudden bound from theory into practice; planets and stars would become henceforth distinct and solid existences in our minds, our doubts vanish, and our belief settle into conviction. We should behold the mysterious moon of our childhood, mapped into brilliant mountain-peaks, and dark precipices, and softly lighted plains; we should see Jupiter shining like another fair Luna, with attendant satellites moving round him in their well-known paths; or turn with admiration to Saturn encircled by his famous ring, with outlines as distinct as if that glorious creation lay but a few miles distant. Perhaps we may behold the beauteous Venus shining with resplendent circular disk, or curiously passing through her many phases in mimic rivalry of the Moon. Or, leaving these near neighbors far behind, we may penetrate more deeply into space, and mark how the bright flashing stars are reduced to a small, round, unmagnifiable point. Such a privilege would give us a more realizing sense of the power of the great Creator." _THE DISCOVERY OF THE MOTION OF THE EARTH AND HEAVENLY BODIES_. The science of Astronomy is one of the oldest that has occupied the human mind. That the belief in Astrology was its forerunner, we cannot doubt. Professor Olmsted tells us, that, "At a period of very remote antiquity, Astronomy was cultivated in China, India, Chaldea, and Egypt." Three several schools were established, ranging from three to six hundred years before the Christian era. Anaximander, in the school of Miletus, taught the sublime doctrine that the planets are inhabited, and that the stars are suns of other systems. Pythagoras was the founder of the celebrated school of Crotona, upon the south-eastern coast of Italy, some five hundred years before the Christian era. He held that the Sun was the centre of the solar system, around which all the planets revolve, and that the stars are so many suns, each the centre of a system like our own. He also held that the Earth revolves daily on its axis, and yearly around the sun. Although many of his opinions were founded in mere conjecture, and were erroneous, yet we see that some important ones were founded on truth. He also held that the planets were inhabited, that the earth and planets were ever revolving in regular order, "keeping up a loud and grand celestial concert, inaudible to man, but, as the 'music of the spheres,' audible to the Gods." But the mind of man was not then prepared to grasp the feeble rays of light, and add thereto, by the power of expanding intellect. Although many succeeded Pythagoras, whose scientific attainments proved a blessing to the world, and whose names will go down to all succeeding generations, as the learned, the good, and the great of their time; yet prejudice and superstition again prevailed, and the true lights of this science were lost sight of, and, for near two thousand years, ages of darkness prevailed, until Copernicus appeared about the fifteenth century of the Christian era. He again revived the idea advanced by Pythagoras, that the earth and planets moved regularly in their orbits, and that the sun was the centre of the solar system. Yet with him, as with the former, it was little more than mere conjecture. We quote again Prof. Olmsted, in regard to these earlier astronomers, who were struggling after light, and truth, in this grandest of sciences: "Although, therefore, Pythagoras fathomed the profound doctrine, that the Sun is the centre around which the earth and all the planets revolve; yet we have no evidence that he ever solved the irregular motions of the planets, in conformity with his hypothesis, although the explanation of the diurnal revolution of the heavens, by that hypothesis, involved no difficulty." Again he says, "Ignorant as Copernicus was of the principle of gravitation, and of most of the laws of motion, he could go but little way in following out the consequences of his own hypothesis; and all that can be claimed for him is, that he solved, by means of it, most of the common phenomena of the celestial motions. He was indeed upon the road to truth, and advanced some way in its sure path; but he was able to adduce but few independent proofs, to show that it was truth. It was only near the close of his life that he published his system to the world, and that only at the urgent request of friends; anticipating, perhaps, the opposition of a bigoted priesthood, whose fury was afterwards poured upon the head of Galileo, for maintaining the same doctrines." The bigotry and superstition of the priesthood of the Church of Rome again crushed out the lights of this science, and forbade further investigations, and all was resolved back again into the doctrine first taught by Eudoxus, who lived more than three hundred years before Christ. This doctrine was the system of _crystalline spheres_; "the earth the centre of the world, and all heavenly bodies set like gems in hollow, solid orbs, composed of crystal so transparent, that no anterior orb could obstruct in the least, the view of any of the orbs lying behind it," that the heavens revolved or rolled round from East to West, performing the circuit every twenty-four hours, carrying along the sun, planets, orbs, &c., and that "above the whole were spread the _grand empyrean_, or 'third heavens,' the abode of perpetual serenity." "To account for the planetary motions, it was supposed that the planetary bodies, as also the stars, and sun, each had a motion of its own from East to West, while all partook of the common diurnal motion of the starry sphere." "Aristotle taught that these motions were effected by a tutelary genius of each planet, residing in it, and directing its motions, even as the mind of man directs his own movements." Thus, from the time of Copernicus, until Galileo appeared in the sixteenth century, the lights of this science were again extinguished by the superstition, bigotry, and intolerance of the priesthood, who would make no proper advance with intellect beyond the established dogmas of the church; even to ascertain truths which God himself had made plainly perceptible in His wondrous works. Galileo, born in Pisa, Italy, in the year 1564, evinced in early life, a fondness for the study of philosophy, and the higher order of sciences, and proved himself also a genius in mechanical inventions. Fortune favored him in his day, and, enjoying all the greater advantages of the best schools of his time, he studied well all the old masters, who had preceded him, and became perfectly familiar with every theory of philosophy and astronomy then known, and prepared himself for an advance in the sciences. He invented the first telescope, with which to survey the heavenly bodies, and the result of his experiments proved conclusively the correctness of the theory advanced by the conjectures of Copernicus. He pursued his investigations for years, and established the truth, in his own mind, of the constant movements of the earth and planets, each revolving in its own orbit, with the Sun as the common centre of all; of the truth of which he could never more entertain a single doubt. But the laws which governed and controlled their movements--the power and force of attraction and gravitation--he could not yet fully comprehend. This great work of discovery was left for Sir Isaac Newton. Knowing the bigotry and intolerance of the ruling powers of Rome, he, Galileo, resorted to subterfuge in order to obtain permission to publish his opinions to the world. Yet, when published, these drew down upon his head the stern persecution of the Pope and Cardinals, and also opposition and accusations from all other philosophers and astronomers of his time. At length, hearing the distant muttering "thunders of the Vatican," he resorted to Rome, to reason with the powers that then held universal sway. But, like all other lights of reason--from time immemorial to the present hour--the fiat of the Romish Church would ever obscure, or crush out light, chain down the intellect, become the arbiter of the consciences of men, and permit no advance, save as she might lead; and even then binding all to her dogmas, and decrees, by the power of force, and threatenings of her Inquisitions. She has ever stood ready, where she had the power, to crush with her iron heel every one who dared to oppose, or sought to lead the mind of man to light and liberty. And it has been the force of circumstances alone, that has, in part, broken this chain of bondage, emancipated the mind, given freedom to thought, and permitted the advance of human intellect. Galileo seemed, indeed, as Nature's philosopher of his time. "He interrogated the laws of nature by experiments and observations, and we have to ascribe to him the first true investigation of the laws of terrestrial gravity." Had he stood firm and maintained the truths which God had permitted him to comprehend, the lights of a true science would then have shone forth, and it is possible that our knowledge to-day would be far in advance of what it is. We judge thus, because of the rapid advance made during the last century, especially since Dr. William Herschel first pointed his telescope toward the heavens. But on Galileo's arrival at Rome, neither his venerable age, his enlightened mind, his acknowledged comprehensive and brilliant intellect, nor even his honorable and eloquent appeals for a full and scientific investigation as to the correctness of his theory, could gain a generous response. The powers that ruled had not made the advance, and it was dangerous to them to permit any one outside to do so. Hence, all new doctrines were held as heretical, and must be crushed at once. He was placed in confinement, charged with treason and conspiracy against the Church; his views heretical, such as demanded the most rigorous punishment;--even after he should renounce them before the cardinals sitting as Inquisitors in his case. The charges against him were those of his published views, which he freely acknowledged, and, while he knew them to be _truths_, yet so controlling was the influence of his belief in the dogmas of that church--even as it is with all its adherents--that he bowed to its fiat, and, on bended knees laid his hand upon the Holy Gospels, and swore by them and the Roman Catholic Church, before God, and the Inquisition of Cardinals, that the _truths he had published_ were _false_, abjuring, cursing, and detesting them as heresies; and swore a life allegiance to the Church, and received submissively, his sentence to a dungeon in the Inquisition for life. Says Prof. Olmsted, "We cannot approve of his employing artifice in the promulgation of truth; and we are compelled to lament that his lofty spirit bowed in the final conflict. How far, therefore, he sinks below the dignity of a Christian martyr!" Says Dr. Brewster, "At the age of seventy, on his bended knees, and with his right hand resting on the Holy Evangelists, did this patriarch of science avow his present and past belief in the Romish Church; abandon as false and heretical the doctrine of the earth's motion, and of the sun's immobility, and pledge himself to denounce to the Inquisition, any other person who was even suspected of like heresy. He abjured, cursed, and detested, those eternal and immutable truths which the Almighty had permitted him to be the first to establish. Had Galileo but added the courage of a martyr, to the wisdom of the sage; had he carried the glance of his indignant eye round the circle of his Judges; had he lifted his hands to heaven, and called the living God to witness the truth and immutability of his opinions; the bigotry of his enemies would have been disarmed, and science would have enjoyed a memorable triumph." THE ROMISH CHURCH. It is impossible for the mind to contemplate the scene presented to the world, by the history of that trial and unjust condemnation, without a shudder, if not a premonition of what may yet be in the future. Religious bigotry is more intolerant than any other power of dominion, and where the mind and conscience is trammelled, and brought under the subjection of superior intellect, the masses become almost as menials, ready to do their masters' bidding. We hold to a system of religion, one which leaves the mind untrammelled, and permits free intercourse with the spirit of God; that which casts aside all that might obstruct or intervene, and which enables the soul to commune with its Maker and Redeemer; that which enables each "to know for himself and not another." This is the Protestant faith and doctrine, contra-distinguished from the Roman Catholic faith, whose Popes, Bishops, and Priests, become, as it were, the arbiters of the minds and consciences of their adherents; stand between them and their Maker, and trifle with the souls of men, as implements and matters of commerce. It is time that the days of superstition were ended. It is fast losing ground in the old world, where, for long centuries past, it has held the masses in ignorance. But, of late years, it has been rapidly gaining ground on our own continent, and its progress of late has been fearful, and may well alarm the Protestants of our own country. We hold that Catholicism is little else than a complete system of superstition. The minds of the masses of its votaries are trained and educated to it from childhood. Hence, there is no possibility of ever eradicating it from the minds of those thus educated. The priests, cardinals, and Pope, can, at any moment, trammel free thought by their own edicts, and bring their subjects to their own terms. Their subjects are taught to believe them to possess superior power; to be able to stand between them and heaven, or hell, to lock, or unlock at pleasure; and so ingenious is their system of religion taught, that it ensnares the mind and holds it ever subservient. We have seen with what submission that mighty man of learning and towering intellect, Galileo, bowed to this imperial power. By arduous study, labor and experiments, he had gained a knowledge of his Creators wonderful works, far transcending all that was known of it by the ruling powers of Rome. He knew this knowledge was truth, as immutable as God himself, yet, if _cursed_ by the Pope of Rome, he, doubtless, believed this curse would place him in perdition, and no one would pray his soul out of purgatory. Therefore, he perjured himself (for when he had sworn it false, he still believed it true) in order to reconcile the rulers, and secure their intercession. This is only an isolated case out of, doubtless, thousands of others, where mind and conscience is brought fully under their subjection. Rome to-day, and the Romish Church, is the same in spirit and ambition of universal sway, as in the days of Galileo. Give her but the power, and rather than lose it again, she would bind humanity in chains of perpetual ignorance as to the source and lights of eternal truth, save that which she alone might graciously promulgate; and this to a favored few, whose trainings were such that their consciences were securely chained to her car, more ponderous and destructive, than that of Juggernaut. Some, perhaps, are ready to say we have borne down too severely upon the Roman Catholics, that they, too, are now more enlightened, and more liberal in their views than formerly, that they have founded schools and institutions of learning, equal--perhaps superior, to those of any other denomination in our country. Grant all this; but why, and for what purpose? _Answer._ The force of circumstances; the enlightenment of the age has compelled them to move forward. They are ever wily and on the alert; the philosophy of science was marching onward; the millions could no longer be held in the old beaten track of ignorance to pander to the few, and Rome, comprehending all this, foresees her impending downfall, unless she, too, steps forward with her _gilded robe_. She therefore, takes a new tack, with her ponderous ship, upon the sea of mind. She has in store her mines of wealth, gathered daily from the poor sons and daughters of toil, some of whom almost starve themselves in order to pay penance to the Priests for sins laid to their charge, committed--if sins they be, in ignorance. These priests--some of whom are besotted--still stand forth as the arbiters of the consciences of their deluded followers; pretend to bar the gates of heaven; admitting none, save for the _shillings_ or the _pounds_, showing plainly that the continued organization of this church, in this enlightened age, is but the force of early education. Yes, they have erected their school and college edifices, and also their _convents_ and _monasteries_. They have ample material for efficient teachers: but mark you, these have all been well trained from infancy in the "_lap of the Church_." They are obedient, efficient and orderly, and, at proper times, are ready to make advantageous displays. They take charge of all the youth of _their_ flock, and, alas, by their seductive insinuations, are now making rapid progress against Protestantism in our own country. They are educating tens of thousands of Protestant youth. Do they ever exhibit to, or instruct them in your Protestant Bible? No, never! but on the other hand; are they not constantly trying to instruct, charm, and fascinate them with their own system of religious worship? They are partial to your children--especially to your _daughters_, who will, in time, be among the mothers of the succeeding generation, and who, of course, will train up their offspring in the same faith. Just let them secure a majority of mothers as firm believers in the Romish faith, and they will bid defiance to all opposing influences. How long since one of their Archbishops said, in a public address, in one of our leading cities: _Let us once control the children, the youth of the land, and we can soon control the nation_; or words of this import? See their indefatigable exertions; their complete system of organization; their primary schools, their Seminaries, Academies, Colleges, Convents, and Monasteries, already established, and to which they are adding, annually, many more, while Protestants seem to be slumbering over the kindling fires of a volcano, which may in time break forth in all its destructive fury, as it oft-times has during past centuries. Is it not high time that Protestants of our own country, were waking up in regard to their present, and eternal interests? Let a preponderance of power be centered in any one man, and you may then bid a final adieu to a republican form of government, and must, perhaps, bow to infamous and oppressive "decrees" emanating from an iron will. In our own country, this cannot yet be, unless the usurper is backed by a soldiery, who are hired, and paid, out of a controlled treasury. This could not long maintain, in this, or any country, where there is freedom of mind and thought, and where conscience remains untrammelled. But let the masses be thus controlled by one superior intellect, and feel that their ETERNAL interests are subject to his will, and they will be ever ready to do his bidding. The Popes of Rome have--successively--held this power over a portion of Europe, even as the history of the dark days of the "Inquisitions" and martyrdoms attest. Thus it has been, and thus we believe it ever will be, where Roman Catholics gain universal sway: for we believe there is scarcely a member of that organization living to-day, who would not--at the Pope's command--make every desired sacrifice; not only of worldly goods and interests, but even of life itself--if required. We do not condemn--collectively, nor individually, the masses, and members of that faith. Far be this from us. We believe that a very large majority of them are honest, and truly devotional. No other class of people on the globe have been more self-sacrificing than many of them, in performing acts of kindness, charity and mercy, and these offices have been performed in a true spirit of Christian benevolence. Would that all other professed Christian organizations would equal them in this respect. All should render relief, when within their power, to suffering humanity. We believe that all such efforts upon the part of any one, will merit, and obtain, individual reward. What we condemn is the spirit of the ruling powers of the Romish Church; its bigotry, and intolerance; and because they--by educating into their system of religion--trammel the mind, and control the conscience, rendering them subservient to the dictation and will of the rulers. The Pope, bishops, and priests, claim to be the mediums through which their adherents are saved, as, also we believe mediums, whose "curses" pronounced against any, will consign the soul to perdition, while they chain the mind to superstition. The Bible teaches that Christ is our only mediator, that all may come to God through faith in His Son; every soul is held alike responsible, and is alike accountable to its Creator. That life and salvation are freely offered alike to all, the requirement being, to forsake the ways of sin, and through faith in Jesus Christ, "return unto the Lord who will have mercy, and to our God who will abundantly pardon." It will be perceived that our principal objections to that sect are their superstitions, bigotry, arrogance and intolerance; the chaining down the mind, and controlling the conscience, and using all for temporal sway. The antecedents of this power are sufficient to warn all Protestants against its encroachments, and stimulate them to say, "Thus far shalt thou go and no farther," and in order to this, let every Protestant denomination see to the educating of their own children. "But," say some of our Protestant mothers, "they have the best schools, and I want my daughters to be well educated, and accomplished; and I do not fear their making Catholics of them." So, likewise, have said thousands of others, and yet, trying the experiment, they have been mistaken. Their daughters have returned home fascinated with show and tinsel, and firm adherents to that doctrine, which, when educated into the mind, can never thence be eradicated. Few are aware of the rapid advance the Catholics are making against Protestantism, at the present time. It is safe to say, that not less than from fifteen to twenty thousand daughters, belonging to Protestant families, are baptized into that church annually, in the United States. On the other hand, few, if any, Catholics ever become Protestants; and nine out of every ten who do, will--if sick and fearing the approach of death, send for Catholic Priests; make confession, and implore their intercession, to rescue their souls from purgatory, where they feel sure of going for this great sin of apostasy. Now we ask, how long will it take, with so large and ever increasing accessions of our Protestant daughters, for that organization to gain the ascendancy in our country? Their motto is _eternal vigilance_, while they wage eternal warfare _against the Protestant faith, and Christian religion_. The time was, when they held almost universal sway throughout a large portion of Europe. The edicts of the Pope, and Roman Catholic rulers, must be obeyed by _all_. Curses, torture, imprisonment, and _death_--where they had the power--was the portion of all who disregarded their mandates. And then, as now, their hatred and persecutions were against those whom they termed "_heretical Protestants_;" against your ancestors, and your religion. Kings, and Emperors, trembled on their thrones, and lent willing obedience, lest a "Bull" should be issued against them from the "Vatican" by the ruling Pope. Those were dark days for poor Protestants; they had to worship God in _secret_, or in dens and caves. Even only a few centuries ago, terror and darkness reigned; multiplied thousands were slaughtered, or dragged to the "stake" and consumed by fiery faggots; grey hairs, age or decrepitude, were no shields against their bigoted fury. The priests then, as now, controlled and directed the consciences of their followers. No compassion, could be shown--even to purity and innocence of defenceless females, or helpless children. Those who could manage to escape and flee the country, did so, leaving all of worldly goods and possessions behind them _confiscated to the Church_, and, as strangers, poor and friendless, sought, as best they could, asylums in other lands--some of whom, finally reached our own continent, here to enjoy liberty and the freedom of conscience. And we have to lament the fact that many of them, still tinctured with the rule and form of despotism, had, by the force of previous circumstances, imbibed notions akin to despotism and persecution, and were, for a time, while they had the power, disposed to use it as manifested by the Puritans first landing on our shores. But they could not hold this power, because of lack of a complete organization of a hierarchal power. Free thought and free speech, and the liberty of a free untrammeled _conscience_ prevailed, and soon swept away every vestige of religious intolerance and despotism, and our North American continent soon towered in sublime grandeur and beauty, and became the home and asylum of freedom for the oppressed of every clime. This land is the birthright of Protestants, wherein those of every religious faith, Catholics, and all others, have equal rights and privileges; but to maintain our liberties, we must educate into the minds of all, _personal liberty, and accountability_, and leave the conscience untrammeled so far as regards popes, priests, bishops, or ministers, _controlling man's future destiny_. All are held individually, and personally, accountable to God, and He hath sent His Spirit to enlighten every one, and all who go direct to Him in the spirit of humility, with faith and prayer, will obtain this light. In regard to the workings of the ruling powers of the Roman Catholic Church less than two centuries ago, we give place to the following recent developments, written as a matter of history, by one who assisted in the investigations only a few weeks ago. This is from "Catholic Spain:" GHASTLY REVELATION! MORE RELICS OF THE SPANISH INQUISITION UNEARTHED. The London _Star_ has the following from Madrid: A somewhat ghastly incident has caused considerable excitement here within the last few weeks. Within a few hundred yards of the new Plaza de Dos Mayo, inaugurated on the 2d of this month, there is a locality called the Cruz del Quemadero. It is a field some three hundred metres square, at the top of the Calle Aricha de San Bernardo, near the hospital built by the ex-Queen. Through it a new road was lately opened, and as the ground was elevated, a cutting of considerable depth had to be dug. The workmen laid bare several peculiar looking horizontal strata, of irregular formation. One was one hundred and fifty feet in length, another fifty, another ten. The thickness varied from eight to eighty centimetres. In color the soil was black, the lower strata being much blacker than the superior ones. On examination lumps of charred wood were found, interspersed with ashes, evidently the remains of some huge fire. Curiosity was soon excited, and further investigation demonstrated that in portions of these ugly-looking strata, the finger came upon small pieces of adipose matter, which yielded, like butter, to the touch. Iron rings were grubbed up; human bones, a cranium, a long tuft of hair, having belonged to some female. All these were more or less charred. Some of the iron was partially fused, and the texture of bone intermingled with sand was plainly discernible. _A gag turned up._ The question, what were these lugubrious records was answered at once. This field of the Cruz del Quemadero was the place where the "_Inquisition_" disposed of some of its victims. Here were the ghastly proofs of the horrors of which this place had been the scene, suddenly brought to light after the lapse of two centuries. On the 12th of May, 1689, eighty-three heretics, including twenty Hebrews, of whom five were women, were immolated on this very spot. The pile of wood was eighty feet in length by seven feet in height. A great concourse witnessed the _auto da fe_, and the horrible ceremonial completed, the people buried the remains of their victims under cart-loads of earth. These irregular geological strata are naught else but the silent testimony to the atrocities perpetrated on this in the name of religion and "Catholic Unity." Out of one, your special correspondent hooked out with his finger, one entire bone of a human vertebral column, a portion of the tibia, a fragment of a shoulder-blade with a hole through it, and a bit of a rib, all bearing the marks of fire. Upward of two cart-loads of remains of this sort have been carried away and decently buried. But these horrible strata! There they remain to tell their own tale, and instruct the present generation. On the 13th, a public meeting was convened, to be held at the Quemadero, by the Republican youth of Madrid, to protest against priestly intolerance and to advocate _freedom of conscience_. That this discovery should have been made at a moment when the Spanish clergy are striving their utmost to affirm the "unity of the Roman Catholic Church," and are preaching in the churches of the metropolis against heresy, is a striking coincidence. The Quemadero is so frequented by people in search of relics, and the explorations of these strata have been so extensive, that the authorities have barred the frontage off, and prohibited access. It is their intention to cut a square block, and there erect a monument. It is estimated by Llorente, the great historian of the Inquisition, that this atrocious tribunal has deprived Spain of twelve millions of souls, including the Jews, and Moors, expelled from the country. Thirty-one thousand and ninety-two perished by fire; 17,659 were first butchered and then burned; 221,985 died of torture. Total, 270,736. Rome, ever intolerant in spirit, her persecutions have ever been the same through all ages, and in all countries, where she had the power of physical force. And thus, we believe, it would be to-day, on this continent, had she now the ascendency here. Daily, in private, are you denounced by their priests, and minions, as heretics, while it would seem that no bishop, or priest, of that church, can ascend a rostrum in any of their cathedrals, without venting his spleen in outspoken or implied anathemas against all Protestants. Your daughters, under their special care in their schools and academies, are taught by the Lady Superiors, and sisters--by insinuations, if not directly--to believe theirs the only true church of God on earth. They are told by their confidential associates, that all who do not believe their faith, and in the Roman Catholic Church, are held by them as "_heretics_" and, without this belief, need never hope to get to heaven. Their governesses and teachers are ever wary, at first, of manifesting, or of exercising a direct influence, as regards controlling their religious belief, and will tell you, when you are about to place your daughters under their care, that they never teach the children of Protestants the Catholic religion, and yet, by their machinations, adopt the most efficient means of accomplishing it. They are sure to gain their _confidence_, and, very soon, with nine out of ten, they have more of this than even the mother enjoys. When they have gained this, confidence, their task becomes an easy one, and they know well how to perform it. On each recurring Sabbath, all who are under their care must attend church, and they are accompanied by the superiors or teachers, to _their_ church, and there must sit and hear the religion and faith of their own parents denounced in the boldest terms. They are young and inexperienced; their minds susceptible of impressions, and these they receive and nurture with such effect, that long before the period arrives for them to leave the "Institution," the faith and doctrines of the "Church of Rome" are firmly ingrafted in their minds; and they return home fully resolved to be (even if they have not already been) confirmed by the ordinance of Baptism in that church. Thus, their religious belief is educated into their minds, and no parental influence can ever change their views. "But," say some, "we send our children to their day-school, and hence, have them under home influence most of the time, and in this way there is no danger." Let us examine and see whether there is, or is not. This mode of procedure is one of their organized systems for induction into your "good graces," so that they may eventually accomplish their ends. By this seeming open-heartedness, they allay all suspicion, and overcome any prejudices you may have cherished against their system of religion. They are all working for the future ascendency of their church. It must not be a matter of haste; the minds of Protestants, who are yet in the ascendency, are not prepared to yield all in open conflict. Hence, they must be patient; must work and wait. Such a course, on their part, will disarm you of even suspicion, and cause you to think and speak well of them. This is always their first step. Soon they will open the doors of their academies to admit your daughters, where they MUST remain during all the term--save a short "home visit" now and then, from which they must return on the day, and even the very hour stated by the "Superior." Have you ever noticed how _promptly_ your daughter has felt it her duty to obey this command, and return to that school? Was it ever thus while she was attending a Protestant school? Think you she would be so mindful of _your_ request; so _anxious_ to leave pleasant society; unwilling to remain even an hour longer, and return to you and loved ones at home? Nay, I tell you she would not do it under ordinary circumstances. See now who already holds the confidence of, and greater influence over your child! But see on yonder eminence a Convent, a Monastery, a Nunnery, with its towering dome, and surrounded by massive walls. There, perhaps, is the place wherein your young and beautiful daughter will be immured to spend a weary life in _crucifying_ herself, and doing penance daily for imaginary sins she has never committed. Thus, shutting herself up within that living tomb from all the outside world, and the happiness to be enjoyed in social life; she is as dead to you, and to the world, as though in her coffin, and in her grave; while the mind is as obscured as to the true lights and freedom of eternal truth and salvation, as though reason were dethroned, and she a maniac. This condition has been brought about by influences brought to bear upon her mind, commencing with your daughter's first entrance into their primary schools. Confessions must soon be made to the priest, and, by his arts, he soon gains the ascendency over, and becomes the arbiter of the mind and conscience, and more especially is this influence exerted to this end, if the child is an _orphan_, and is the rightful inheritor of a valuable estate. For it would seem that to this end do the ruling powers of that sect devote time, energy, and influence--as witnessed by so many young females, whose parents left them fortunes, surrendering all to the church, and taking up a life abode in their convents. We do not condemn the poor deluded victims, nor believe they are held accountable in their delusion. They are honest in their devotions, yet perform these under false delusions. And when their spirits are released from this double prison-house, and return to God who gave them, they will then realize the freedom of the Spirit of God, and how abundantly it giveth _light_, _life_ and _liberty_. And they will then also realize that their salvation is alone of God--through his boundless mercy; and not in anywise through intercession of the _Priest_. We warn you to look well to passing events. History so oft repeats itself, that we can but believe there is danger. Remember that when Luther--the bold pioneer of Protestantism--stood forth the champion of Christianity, to his followers there came, from this same source, persecutions, martyrdoms, and massacres--even a reign of terror and darkness upon Europe. But it proved a darkness that preceded a dawn; and although seemingly, at the time, dreadful in its consequences, yet none can deny but that the world is far better because of his efforts, than to have slumbered on in ignorance and in sin. From this same cause, our own continent may be destined to pass through a period like that of the "dark ages." If so, we trust in God it may come forth from it cleansed and purified; even as the current of the "lost river," that loses itself in the bosom of the "Blue Ridge," where, with a wild whirl, its turbid waters dash into the resounding cavern, but on the other side reappear, clear, placid, and beautiful. We say to all Protestants, remember, that in placing your children under the care and influence of Catholic teachers, and Priests of that Church, you lend your aid to obscuring their minds, and, in accordance to your own belief, shutting out from the eye of faith God's own eternal truth. They go to men as "intercessors" instead of to Christ the Lord--the Son of God, who redeemed them with His own precious blood--who alone can intercede for them. And you also aid in re-establishing universal sway to the ever-intolerant Romish Church. The time may come when--driven from the Old World--her central power will be on this continent: and, erecting here her gorgeous temples from the estates you leave to your children, the Pope will ascend the throne of the American Vatican--under and around which will be the dark dungeons of the Inquisition--and thence thunder forth his "_Bulls_" and _Anathemas_ against the feeble followers of the blessed Redeemer. That Church is by far the most intolerant of all the professed Christian organizations on this globe. Their members are not even allowed the privilege of attending religious worship anywhere else than under their own instructions, and we opine, that should any one of them do so without "dispensation," they are held as having committed a sin, for which they must soon repair to the Priest, make confession, do penance, receive absolution from him, and pay the price. Behold the avarice of this "whore of Babylon!" Not content with tribute paid to her--perhaps weekly--through a long lifetime by her deluded followers, when nature yields to the fiat of the Eternal One, mortality drops to moulder into dust, and the spirit returns to God who gave it, so completely are the minds of all her adherents under the control of the Priests, that they can still lay _penance_ upon the dead, and demand and obtain _tribute_ from the living offspring. In closing our remarks upon this subject, we submit, for the reflection of all Protestant ministers and members in every quarter of the world, the following, a portion of the Pope's address to the English clergymen, who presented him an address signed by some eighteen hundred clergy, April 20th, 1869. After examining the document closely, following other remarks, he said: "In the mean time, we must cultivate in a most special manner the _spirit of unity_, for in that lies our strength, and its want is the weakness of our adversaries. I have noticed the Protestants are perpetually appealing to the primitive Church; but when I turn to the early ages of history, what do I see? Unity! all the more reasonable because existing undoubtedly in a different state of society from the present. The Apostles were all of one accord, and one mind. * * * * Protestants, on the other hand, are disunited; and our strength, in the difficulties we have to encounter, lies in _perfect union_. * * * It will be the old story over again. There will be waves and storms and threatenings on all sides, but we shall be brought safely through * * * while our _adversaries_ are struggling with the waves." Let all ponder well these remarks. The philosophy that "in union there is strength" is a true one. And if all Protestants cannot unite as one great body and family--because of minor non-essentials in matters of faith, forms and ceremonies--let all unite in the one great essential, that all their children, and orphan children of Protestants, shall be educated in other than Catholic schools. For, in these latter, we hold that the mind is chained to error and superstition, and the true lights of God's truth and plan of salvation are obscured. Every parent and guardian will be held accountable in a coming day, should they neglect to "train up their children in the way they should go." * * * * * Our readers will please pardon us for the digression we have made from the special subject we have under consideration. Had we not been duly impressed with the importance and correctness of our views upon the subject of the freedom and liberty of mind and conscience, and of the personal accountability of _all_ to God alone, we should not have thus pursued the theme. We believe firmly in the good _offices_ of a teaching and advising ministry, but not in anywise where it _trammels the mind or becomes the arbiter of the conscience_. * * * * * Returning to our subject, _viz._, the earlier discoveries of the science of Astronomy. The intelligence of the world is indebted to Sir Isaac Newton, who lived during the latter part of the sixteenth century, for the discovery of the laws of _universal gravitation_. His discovery, and philosophy, furnished the basis upon which all subsequent astronomers have worked. _ATTRACTION, GRAVITATION, &c._ The power of attraction and force of gravitation are the laws which govern the universe of matter. "The discovery of this law," says Prof. Olmsted, "made us acquainted with the hidden forces that move the great machinery of the universe. It furnished the key which unlocks the inner temple of Nature, and established the science of Astronomy upon a sure and firm basis. Thus we discover in Nature a tendency of every portion of matter toward some other. This tendency is called gravitation. The larger the body, the more powerful the attraction; and this attraction is always toward the centre. Hence, you may cast an object of weight into the air, and, when the impelling force you have given it ceases to force it upward, it falls in a direct line to the earth." So also may the Chinaman, placed on the opposite side of the globe, cast one as he deems upward, which is forcing it in an opposite direction from where you sent yours; yet, when his impelling force is lost, his too falls back to the earth, each falling toward the other. This is gravitation, produced by the power of attraction. Thus we now see this principle made plain to the simplest comprehension. _SUNS, STARS, PLANETS, &c._ We come, now, to the contemplation of that which is of far greater importance to us than all other planets, worlds, stars, and wonders in the siderial Heavens. This is the Sun, which warms and lights up our earth, and all the other planets within its sphere. Says Dr. Child, "There are not a few in this world who habitually receive God's blessings so much as a matter of course, that they are scarcely conscious of any active feeling of gratitude in regard to them. The very regularity and profusion with which these blessings are showered on all alike, seem to have the effect of deadening the sense of individual obligation. A general admission of thankfulness may occasionally be made at church or in the closet, but there is a want of that abiding consciousness of it, with which we ought to be imbued, as well as that frequent pondering upon details which, by illustrating the dependence of every creature upon God, causes the heart to swell with grateful adoration. Such thoughts never fail to improve our moral nature by bringing the truth home to us more and more that we are God's children. "It would be no easy task for a thankful mind to sum up all the blessings diffused over our planet by the Sun. It is the mainspring of animated Nature. Without its genial rays the present system of Earth's government could not endure, and life itself would soon disappear from the globe. To it we are indebted for light and warmth--the two stimulants of vital force--for our food and raiment; for our busy days and rest-bringing nights, for months and years, and happy alternations of seasons. Its rays, in short, are intertwined with all our wants and comforts; they gladden the eye and cheer the heart. Contemplating all these temporal blessings, the _Psalmist_ exclaims: "'_I will praise the name of the Lord with a song, and magnify it with thanksgiving._' "The Sun is the central pivot of the solar system, and round it the earth and all the other planets keep whirling in elliptical orbits. Its power and influence, its light, heat, and attraction, reach through a domain in space which it would require _six thousand millions of miles_ to span. With the greater part of this wide field, astronomers are familiar, and it may be truly said that scarcely a man knows the roads of his own parish or neighborhood, or a citizen the streets of his own city or village, with more exactness than they do the highways of the skies. Not only can they map out to a nicety the paths of the planets careering through it like islands floating through a sea of ether, but they can look backward and tell the exact spot where each globe was at any moment of the remote past, or forward, and point to the place where each will be found at any given moment of the remote future. "What is the mighty power which maintains such order in the Heavens, which steadies the planets in their orbits, and traces out for them a route so wisely planned as to avoid all chances of collision? Two antagonistic forces--gravitation and attraction, combined with a centrifugal impulse--accomplish the wonderful task. To these faithful servants, God commits the safety of the Universe, nor can anything disturb or derange the order of this machinery, save the Word which created it. "The Sun was placed in the centre, and became the pivot of the whole system, tying to itself the different planets by the cord of its superior attraction. In accordance with the law we have mentioned, this loadstone power of the Sun is the inevitable result of its superior mass, as it is computed to be six hundred times greater in magnitude than this earth and all the planets put together. But behold the wisdom and wondrous power of the Great Architect, in creating these vast worlds, and placing each in its proper position in space; where each revolves within its own orbit--some with the velocity of even one hundred thousand miles an hour--yet maintaining toward each other that _centrifugal_ force which prevents their being drawn by the attractive power of that vast globe _within_ the Sun, into certain destruction, by its surrounding fires. "Astronomers inform us there are innumerable Suns, each of which is supposed to control a separate, or its own system of planets; giving light and heat thereto, even as our Sun does to this Earth, and its own system of planets. Their distances from the Sun that lights up our Heavens are immeasureable--far transcending our conceptions, or even our imagination--in illimitable space. They also inform us that the distance from this Earth, to the nearest one of these distant stars, or suns, is about _twenty billions of miles_." So vast is the distance here stated, that the mind cannot grasp or comprehend it. We can more nearly approximate by the measurement of light; a ray of which darting from its surface and travelling at the speed of 192,000 miles a second, would not reach our eye under three years and eight months. "Such then," says Sir John Herschel, "is the length of the sounding-line with which we first touch bottom in the attempt to fathom the great abyss of the sidereal heavens." Says Olmsted, "Until recently, astronomers gave almost exclusive attention to observations, and the study of the solar system. But Dr. William Herschel turned his attention to the sidereal heavens, and opened up new and wonderful fields of discovery, as well as of speculation. His son, Sir John Herschel, and Sir James South, of England, have followed the old master, with grasping minds and brilliant intellects, until more has been accomplished by them, and others of the present day, than all preceding astronomers had even ventured to conjecture," and that their deductions are founded mainly on facts, no intelligent mind will--on investigation--have reason to doubt. But having thrown anchor and "touched bottom" in the wide expanse of the unlimited sphere of the sidereal heavens, "let us," says Dr. Child, "take another flight. Here next, within the domain of Sirius, we find ourselves six times as far distant as when at Centauri, first mentioned"--say one hundred and twenty billions of miles--"from which it would require _twenty-two years_ for a ray of light travelling at the rate of 192,000 miles a second to reach our Earth." But, far distant, yonder, we behold the beauteous _Capella_, in all its splendor and glory, throwing its effulgent rays across the wide expanse of universe, and yet these rays of light, travelling at the same mentioned rate--192,000 miles each passing second of time--require about _seventy years_ in transit, before the inhabitants of our Earth catch a glimpse of their brilliancy and beauty. And yet now the mind has only entered the borders of '_the starry regions_'--far beyond, in illimitable space, lie the 'Hosts of the Stars;' their vast distances cannot be computed even by light itself." It is wonderful to contemplate the probability that of some of the more distant stars discovered, the rays of light which have found rest in the eye of the Astronomer, through the aid of the telescope, may have left their native sun thousands of years ago, and travelled at the rate of 192,000 miles a second ever since. "A certain cluster of stars was estimated by Sir William Herschel to be 700 times the distance of a star of the first magnitude--therefore at least 700 times nineteen billions of miles!" But, observes Guillemin, if this cluster was removed to five times its actual distance, that is to say 3,500 times the distance of Sirius, the large Herschelian telescope of 40 feet focus would still show it, _but only as an irresolvable Nebula_. It is, then, extremely probable that, among the many Nebulæ indecomposable into stars, beyond the Milky Way, in the depths of the heavens, many are as distant as that of which we speak. _Doubtless many are more so._ Now to reach us, light-rays must have left stars situated at such a distance more than 700,000 years ago!" Says Child, "When we have touched the verge of this uttermost range, Infinity, boundless as ever, still lies beyond. The idea of God extinguishes in our mind every suspicion that there can be any limit to space, magnitude, or power, in relation to His works. The mighty universe we have been considering is but the stepping-stone to what is farther on; and although our imagination fails to grasp it, our reason assures us it must be so. There is no such thing as taking from or adding to _The Illimitable_. "With what just propriety of thought has light been called the 'voice' of the stars. * * * In the 'speechless' voice of light the stars proclaim to us from the depths of space, the existence of innumerable other worlds which, like our own, share the Creator's care. * * * With mute argument stars prove to us that, in those far-off regions, gravitation--the power that brings the apple to the ground--still reigns supreme, and with suggestive whispers of probability, they persuade us that, like our own Sun, they bathe attendant worlds in floods of light; deck them in colors of beauty, and shower countless blessings on the life of myriads of beings. "Having glanced at the distances and magnitudes of some of the stars, or suns, let us pause for a moment to consider their number, and the vast space they must necessarily occupy in the domain of Creation. By the most moderate estimate the number of stars that can be counted in the firmament by telescopic aid, does not fall short of _one hundred millions_. There is no doubt that most of those stars are _Suns_, dispensing light and heat to earths and planets like our own; and, indeed, no bodies shining by reflected light would be visible at such enormous distances. "From the superior magnitude of those that have been measured--as compared to our Sun--it may be assumed that the average diameter of their solar systems must exceed our own; but taking them as nearly equal, it would give a breadth of at least _six thousand millions of miles_ as the field of space occupied by each, while every star, or sun-system, is probably begirt with a gulf or void like that encircling our own, in which the antagonistic forces of attraction are lost, so as not to disturb each other. Hence, the distance from each of those suns to its nearest neighbor is probably not less than that which intervenes between our Sun and the nearest star, which cannot be less than about _twenty_ billions of miles. How inconceivably vast, therefore, must be the space required to give room for so many and such stupendous solar systems. The mind absolutely reels under the load of conceptions so mighty. _Yet Infinity still lies beyond_." "For what purpose," says Sir John Herschel, "are we to suppose such magnificent bodies scattered through the abyss of space? Surely not to illume our nights, which an additional moon of the thousandth part of the size of our own would do much better; not to sparkle as a pageant, void of meaning and reality, and to bewilder us among vain conjectures. He must have studied astronomy to little purpose, who can suppose man to be the only object of his Creator's care, or who does not see, in the vast and wonderful apparatus around us, provisions for other races of animated beings." The Psalmist says: "Whoso is wise will ponder these things, and they shall understand the loving-kindness of the Lord." Let us here suggest the reasonable hypothesis, that those distant suns, standing far out in the sidereal regions of illimitable space--created, and placed there by the "Word" of the Almighty architect--may have been shining thus for untold billions of years; and so, also, the sun which shines upon and lights up and warms this earth, and the other planets within its domain; and will thus remain forever, as God's own lamps of eternal light, to all created intelligences. Hear the Psalmist break forth again, "Thy testimonies are wonderful. Who alone doeth great wonders. The heavens declare the glory of God, and the firmament sheweth His handy works. Such knowledge is too wonderful for me." Job tells us, "He alone spreadeth out the heavens, and treadeth upon the waves of the sea, and doeth wonders without number." _Fixed stars_--held by astronomers to be suns--are known from the planetary stars by their perpetual "twinkling," and by their being, apparently, always in the same position relative to each other. Now, while the number of stars to be seen in the heavens by the naked eye on a clear night does not exceed about 3,000 in each,--the northern and southern hemispheres,--yet Herschel, Olmsted, and other examiners tell us that by the aid of the telescope, many millions stand out in brilliant array--so vast their number that they cannot be correctly computed, but are supposed to be at least _one hundred millions_. Prof. Olmsted declares it fully demonstrated that "_the fixed stars are suns_," and, with other astronomers, argues the fair probability of many of them being of far greater magnitude than our own sun. Dr. Wollaston, a distinguished English philosopher, attempted to estimate the magnitude of certain of the fixed stars from the light which they afforded. "By means of an accurate _photometer_ (an instrument for measuring the relative intensities of light), he compares the light of Sirius with that of the sun. He next computed how far the sun must be removed from us in order to appear no brighter than Sirius. He found it would require to be _one hundred and forty-one thousand times_ its present distance, and even at that great distance Sirius must give out twice as much light as the sun, or that, in point of splendor, Sirius must be at least equal to two suns." "But," adds Prof. Olmsted, "as _Sirius_ is more than _two hundred thousand times_ as far off as the sun, he has rendered it probable that its light is equal to that of _fourteen suns_." (We wish you to bear these facts in mind, they will serve you when we come to speak of the magnitude of our own sun.) But let us follow Prof. Olmsted a little farther. He says, "We have already seen that they are large bodies; that they are immensely farther off than the farthest planet; that they shine by their own light; in short, that their appearance is, in all respects, the same as the Sun would exhibit if removed to the region of the stars. Hence, we infer that they are bodies of the same kind with the Sun. "We are justified, therefore, by a sound analogy, in concluding that the stars referred to were made for the same end as the Sun; namely, as the centres of attraction to other planetary worlds, to which they severally dispense light and heat. Although the starry heavens present, in a clear night, a spectacle of unrivalled grandeur and beauty, yet it must be admitted that the chief purpose of the stars could not have been to adorn the night, since by far the greater part of them are ever invisible to the naked eye, nor as landmarks to the navigator, for only a small proportion of them are adapted to this purpose, nor, finally, to influence this Earth by their attraction, since their distance renders such an effect entirely insensible." Therefore, arriving at the only rational conclusion _that they are Suns_, many of them suns of vast magnitude; shining with splendor and brilliancy equal to, or surpassing that of our own Sun; each giving out light and heat to their attendant planets and revolving worlds within their own domain, or sphere,--"may we not ask, for what purpose are these gifts dispensed to those surrounding worlds, if not for the use of percipient beings? "We are therefore led to the inevitable idea of a plurality of worlds; and that they are inhabited by some order of intelligences, and the conclusion is forced upon our minds that the spot which the Creator has assigned to us is but a humble province in his boundless empire." None, however, can form a correct estimate, or comparison, between this, our diminutive Earth, and those vast orbs--suns--fixed so remote from us in the sidereal regions, nor of the numbers, until in some measure they have familiarized their minds with, and understand, to some extent, the science of astronomy, and then survey the vast field through a suitable telescope. "Even the first view through it, pointed heavenward, will astonish and fill the mind with awe and wonder; and as each new-grasping power is given to the instrument; new fields of those regions are joined on to those already explored, and every new stratum of space thus added is found to be studded with stars in ever increasing ratio; until myriads have come forth from the dark depths of the firmament, and they have a grand panoramic view of a Universe of Worlds peopling the realms of boundless space." Then, in wonder and amazement, they will more fully realize and comprehend the Omnipotent power of God in the manifestations of His creative word. Then, in comparison, each realizing his own diminutiveness: that he is even less than an unperceived infinitesimal atom floating along in the gentle breeze, he will be led to exclaim with the Psalmist: "How wonderful are thy works, O Lord of hosts! What is man that thou art mindful of him, or the son of man that thou takest knowledge of him?" Dismissing, for the present, the further contemplation of those far-off millions of stars, or suns, and their multiplied millions of attendant planets and worlds, we come back to the contemplation of our own Sun, and its attendant planets, things with which we are more familiar, and which are--seemingly--more tangible. As we have before remarked, the Sun governs and controls our Earth, and the other planets and worlds within its domain. Some of these worlds are not greatly dissimilar to this in which we live; some are smaller, while others are vastly larger--some computed to be even a thousand times larger than this Earth, and, as we believe, all are peopled with some high order of intelligence. Having gathered the foregoing facts from the most undoubted authorities--astronomers, whose mathematical and philosophical calculations have for their base the immutable laws established by creative wisdom, as now revealed in Nature, we shall still rely--more or less--upon them for statistical facts and data, in further expositions from which to make deductions and draw our conclusions. We are desirous of familiarizing your mind with the mighty and wondrous works of God, so plainly manifested in His creating and sustaining power, which few, comparatively speaking, seem to comprehend in any other way save in the daily temporal blessings of life. Should our feeble efforts raise your thoughts higher, and enable you to contemplate Him with the eye of faith in the light of reason, and Divine revelation; to know more of His greatness and power, and your entire dependence upon Him for all temporal blessings in life; for the _only_ consolation you can have in the dying hour, and as your only hope for the future, and should such contemplation draw your mind and heart to Him in holy love, and godly fear, we shall be well rewarded for our efforts. _FIXED STARS ARE SUNS._ We now propose to dwell for a short time upon the distance, magnitude, elements, and offices of the Sun. The Sun itself speaks to us with its voice of light, and it is our high privilege to understand, and thus comprehend mysteries long hidden, which are now being revealed. Special manifestations were long since made by Jehovah, which were left for those of the present enlightened age to comprehend; when the mind of man is more fully able to grasp His truths, and look up through Nature to Nature's God. Now fix your mind's eye upon that brilliant orb of--seeming--eternal day; that Sun which is ever shining, ah! whose light never pales, nor fails its vast empire. No storm-clouds obscure its brightness in the higher realm, neither is there waning of light, nor a wasting of its substance. Possibly, from all eternity of the past it has been, and through eternity to come it will remain the same. We, on this Earth, have our days and nights, our sun-shine and shadows, tempests and storms. Our nights are the result of the daily revolution of the Earth, these are when that portion of it on which we dwell is turned away from the Sun, and the shadow of the Earth--which is surrounded by a dense atmosphere--is that which constitutes our darkness. This atmosphere is a screen to us by day to modify the intense heat of the Sun's rays. Otherwise, it is possible that no animated life could exist. This atmosphere has in it the elements of production, which--when absorbed by the Earth--assists in bringing forth for the sustenance of man and beast, and all living things. Did not this atmosphere exist, our midnight hours would be almost as bright as noonday. See in this the wise provision of our heavenly Father. That Sun is farther away, and of far greater magnitude, than you now comprehend, or even imagine. We will now state its dimensions, distance, elements, &c., as measured and determined by the science of astronomy, and as agreed upon by all the best informed and most profound mathematicians and astronomers throughout the world. The diameter of the Sun is _eight hundred and fifty-five thousand miles_. It would require _one hundred and seven worlds_, the size of this Earth, set side by side to reach across it, and _one million four hundred thousand Earths_, the size of this, to make a globe of equal magnitude. It is _two millions six hundred and fifty-five thousand miles round it_, while its bulk is not less than _six hundred times_ as great as all the worlds and planets it controls within its sphere put together,--some of which, as we have told you, are estimated to be a thousand times larger than this Earth. Is your mind expanding? are your views enlarging, so as to enable you to comprehend its vast dimensions? Let the revelations of astronomy assist you. Look at it again. From the comparatively small size of its disk as we see it from the Earth, the distance must be vast indeed to dwarf it down thus. The distance is great, no less than about _ninety-five millions of miles_. It is three hundred and eighty-five times as far away as the Moon: it is estimated that a cannon ball fired from this Earth and keeping up its velocity at the rate of _five hundred miles an hour_, would not reach it in less time than about twenty-two years. Still, though these are well demonstrated facts, ascertained by very correct measurement, by the most scientific mathematical surveyors of the heavens, yet we desire some more plain or familiar illustration. Let us investigate. Here we have it; are you ready for a journey? The celebrated Braley has calculated the time required for a trip of ocular exploration. He observes, "A railway train starting from this Earth, and running continuously, at the rate of _thirty miles an hour_, would arrive at the Moon in eleven months, but would not reach the Sun in less time than about _three hundred and fifty-two years_." We can partially comprehend this by calculation (although the years of the oldest individual of our country have not been sufficient to take him more than one third of the journey, even had he been placed on such train and started when an infant at his mother's breast). Had the train been started only nineteen years later than the discovery of North America by Columbus, in 1498, and travelled thirty miles each hour since, it would just now be approaching the border of the Sun, and, on arriving there, if a tunnel was opened and a track laid direct through it, "this train, continued at the same speed, would require more than a year and a half to reach the Sun's centre; three years and a half to pass through it, and more than ten years to pass round it. "Now this same train would attain the centre of this Earth in five days and a half; pass through it in eleven days; and go round it in about thirty-five days." Thus you see the diminutiveness of this Earth as compared to the Sun. These calculations are founded on facts so clearly demonstrated by the science of astronomy, that but few who examine into it will question their approximation to correctness. Now while the mind is somewhat familiarized with that vast globe, the Sun, let us contemplate it further. Sir John Herschel, the most profound philosopher in the science of astronomy the world has ever known; one whose inventions and improvements in the telescope have far surpassed those of all others; one who has enjoyed the highest advantages in the study and demonstration of the science, and who has made most important discoveries in regard to the sun, and moon, and the planets--and even the fixed stars, or suns, in the far off sidereal regions--tells us that from his investigations and discoveries in regard to the Sun, there appears to be _a vast globe within_ the surrounding _photosphere of fire_, shielded by a void or non-luminous atmosphere, thus apparently protecting it from the surrounding flame of fire, and rendering it possible that the vast globe within is susceptible of animated life, which may exist there in some form. This, with the general corroboration of other astronomers, as to the two encircling volumes of atmosphere--the outer a luminous, and the inner a non-luminous one--is strong evidence confirmative of our hypothesis of the existence of that immense inner globe, or world, which is doubtless in reality the _Heavenly world_; the Saviour's empire, and the abode of the righteous. Methinks, had Sir John Herschel but turned his attention for awhile to the flood-lights of Divine Revelations, made by God himself through His Spirit to fallen man, he would ere this have opened the "gate" to the eye of faith, and bid the weary Christian to look and behold the confines of that bright world which was opened, and flashed its inner light upon the eyes of the dying martyr Stephen, when, "Being full of the Holy Ghost, he looked up steadfastly into heaven, and saw the glory of God, and Jesus standing at the right hand of God, and said, Behold, I see heaven opened." Thus, we are led to the inevitable conclusion that heaven is not so far distant but that it can be seen from earth by the _spirit-eye_, if God shall but open, and disclose it to view. Where else can we imagine its location, to be within range of--even immortal--vision from this earth? St. John, while in the spirit, had a view of that heavenly world, and the vast city with glittering jasper walls, and gold-paved streets, and even the "great white throne," the Saviour on that throne, surrounded by an innumerable company that no man can number. St. Paul, in spirit, was caught up, even into the "third heaven," and "saw and heard things which it were not lawful for man to utter" to mortals on earth. He tells us that "eye hath not seen, neither ear hath heard, nor hath it entered the heart of man, the glory that shall be revealed." But we will not here anticipate the still stronger evidence we have yet to lay before the mind as we pursue this interesting theme. Bear in mind the fact that heaven is considered by the most learned and ablest writers on theology, as "a fixed place," permanent and abiding. That it is vast in extent, and glorious in appearance, and has, within, all the necessary elements and arrangements for complete happiness. And, we believe, that not very remotely distant from it is the place where is the element of punishment for the wicked. We think the revelations of God, and the manner and mode of his manifestations to the children of men, together with the revelations of astronomy in regard to the Sun; its magnitude and elements, will, when we come to consider them further, not only startle the mind, but prove our hypothesis well-founded. _A CONTEMPLATION._ Just here, may we not, for a few moments, speculate in mind upon a possibility, which, as we advance, will assume more the form of a probability? Look once more upon that brilliant orb, whose light, _without_, may be one of the lamps of eternal day. Look but for one second of time only; for, as we have told you, a steady gaze into its fiery flame of brightness for one minute alone is fatal to the blinding of the unprotected eye. May not _within_ be the place of which the poet's spiritual eye caught a glimpse, when alone in silent meditation he penned those sublime and beautiful lines: "There, on those wide extended plains, shines one eternal day, There God, the Son, forever reigns, and scatters night away. No chilling winds, nor poisonous breath, can reach that healthful shore, Sickness and sorrow, pain and death, are felt and feared no more." May not that be the _Heavenly world_ wherein stands the "City of God, whose foundations are eternal," and whose maker and builder is the great Architect of the Universe? Its walls are Jasper, and are ever glittering in the glory-light of eternal day. Its apartments are gorgeously furnished in brilliant array. "_I go_" said the Saviour, "_to prepare a place for you._" There "the gold-paved streets," there the "Great white Throne" and "Christ the Lord" who sits thereon as the judge and ruler of His own native Empire--for it is He that shall judge the nations of this Earth, and in the "great day" of "final judgment" he will recount, in evidence, some of the scenes through which he passed on this Earth, to justify his final and unalterable decision. May not there gush forth the crystal "fountains of life" from which to drink will quench all thirst; and there the "rivers of life" ever flowing, in whose waters to bathe will renew eternal youth, and immortality, to dwell on and on with eternity itself? May not Moses, and Elijah, and the Prophets, and Martyrs be there? May not many of us, who are still on this Earth, contemplate the theme that there (in that bright world at whose boundary surface we cannot, while dwelling in mortality, gaze for even one minute of time without being blinded) we have a father, a mother, sister, brother, husband, wife, a child, or some loved friends, who have left the shores of Time, and are safe with their blessed Saviour, to dwell in his sun-light throughout "eternal day?" May we not contemplate the possibility of these things, when we remember that it is said of Heaven, "the Righteous shall dwell _therein_," and that "God" in His eternal manifestations "dwells in light unapproachable" to us in our mortality, and is only manifest to us here by His invisible SPIRIT VEILED IN FIRE? Startle not when we come to lay before you the well-defined elements surrounding that vast globe. The timid mind might naturally recoil, and stand aghast at the thought of approaching such volume of intense heat and "devouring flames." Remember that you are still in the body, subject to all the pains and penalties of fallen humanity. Remember that God has created no element incompatible with his own nature; remember that He is the Almighty power who hath created all things, and in the infinity of His power, can control any element for our happiness, and also the same for our misery. Thus it will appear that "every man's work shall be tried as by fire;" the righteous to be saved as by fire, and yet the wicked to be destroyed or tormented by fire. In this we can see the Infinity of the power of God in the salvation and happiness of His children--who are "the children of light," as also in the torments of the "children of darkness." But we shall be able to show that "God's Spirit _is fire_" and that He _does_ so control this element, or change our nature, that whatever these may be, they are properly adapted to constitute ineffable happiness to the immortal state of the righteous. This, we trust, will appear plain to you before you have finished the perusal of these pages. _THE SUN, AND GLOBE WITHIN._ We now propose to continue our investigations of the Sun; in considering its surrounding elements, offices, &c. We have already said that it is the main-spring, and we may add, barring the Great Author, the source and fountain of animated Nature; the source of light and heat, the two stimulants of vital force, without which no animated life could exist on this earth; and so, doubtless, with all the other planets and worlds which it controls. And, while contemplating it thus as the immediate source of unnumbered blessings to the human race, and to all intelligences or animation belonging to this, or other worlds within its domain, we should not fail in devout reverence to the _great Author_, who created all by the "Word of His Power"--not only our Sun and its retinue of attendant planets, but those innumerable, far distant ones of which we have told you, with all _their_ attendant trains, yea, even all things, above, around, and beneath; the computation of whose numbers, their magnitude, grandeur, and transcendent glory so far exceeds our finite comprehension, that we are lost in wonder and amazement, and can but feel that, in comparison, we are less than an _atom_ of this vast and boundless Universe of Creation. The Sun, represented as a "brilliant orb" a "luminary" or "luminous body," has also been denominated a "globe of fire." Some astronomers consider it an "_incandescent_ body" (_glowing whiteness of intense heat_). Dr. Herschel's views respecting the Sun are, that it is a planetary body like our earth, diversified with mountains and valleys, to which, on account of the magnitude of the Sun, he assigns a prodigious extent--some mountains six hundred miles high, and valleys proportionately deep. He does not employ in his explanations volcanic fires, as some others have done, but supposes two separate regions of dense clouds floating in the solar atmosphere at different distances from the sun. The exterior stratum of clouds he considers as the depository of the sun's light and heat, while the interior stratum serves as an awning or screen to the body of the sun itself, which thus becomes fitted to sustain life-animation. This refutes the idea advanced by that celebrated French Astronomer, La Lande, who held "that the sun is a solid opaque body, having its exterior diversified with high mountains and deep valleys, and covered all over with a burning sea of liquid matter. The solar spots, he supposed, were produced by the flux and reflux of the fiery sea, retreating occasionally from the mountains, and exposing to view a portion of the dark body of the sun." But Prof. Olmsted (to whom we are indebted for this and much other information on this subject), refutes this hypothesis by showing the inconsistency that fluid, of the nature here spoken of, or supposed to exist, should depart so far from its equilibrium and remain so long fixed, as to lay bare the immense space occupied by the solar spots--some of which are supposed to be fifty thousand miles in diameter. Prof. Olmsted also examines the hypothesis of Dr. Herschel, relative to clouds surrounding the sun, and reasons as follows: "I am compelled to think the hypothesis (of Dr. H.) is encumbered with very serious objections. Clouds analogous to those of our atmosphere (and Dr. H., expressly asserts that his lower stratum of clouds are analogous to ours, and reasons respecting the upper stratum according to the same analogy) cannot exist in hot air; they are tenants only of cold regions. How can they be supposed to exist in the immediate vicinity of a fire so intense, that they are even dissipated by it at the distance of ninety-five millions of miles? Much less can they be supposed to be the depositories of such devouring fire, when any thing in the form of clouds floating in our atmosphere, is at once scattered and dissolved by the accession of only a few degrees of heat. Nothing, moreover, can be imagined more unfavorable for radiating heat to such a distance than the light, inconstant matter of which clouds are composed, floating loosely in the solar atmosphere." Prof. Olmsted continues, "If we inquire whether the surface of the Sun is in a state of actual combustion, like burning fuel, or merely in a state of intense ignition, like a stone heated to redness in a furnace, we shall find it most reasonable to conclude that it is in a state of ignition. If the body of the Sun were composed of combustible matter and were actually on fire, the material of the Sun would be continually wasting away, while the products of combustion would fill all the vast surrounding regions, and obscure the light of the Sun. But solid bodies may attain a very intense state of ignition, and glow with the most fervent heat, while none of their material is consumed, and no clouds or fumes rise to obscure their brightness, or to impede their further emission of heat." Hence, for these and other reasons, Prof. Olmsted thinks it more probable that the heat is that of a high state of ignition, rather than produced from combustion. Thus we see that while all Astronomers agree that the Sun is the source of light and heat; that this heat is vastly intense; consuming, and yet never consumed or exhausted, it is a difficult matter to determine the nature and true element composing it. All agree however, that God himself created it and placed it in its proper position, and controls it for His own wise purposes. Most Astronomers consider it an incandescent body (glowing whiteness of intense heat), encircled with two atmospheres. That next its surface is supposed to be nonluminous, while the outer one which floats upon it is _luminous_--and forms a "_photosphere_," this is what we see in looking at the Sun's bright disk. This photosphere radiates the heat and light which vivify the planets of the solar system, and imparts the stimulæ of life and animation. It is said that flame-like masses--some computed to be one hundred and fifty thousand miles in length--are piled upon, and overlap each other, and sweep onward in constant agitation like mountain billows of living fire. Its brightness far transcends and pales that of all other luminaries, and would that of millions of stars as bright as Sirius, or even hundreds of thousands of full moons. We accept this view, as to the outer photosphere, and believe this "_incandescent_," yet not a solid body, but rather a _photospheric ethereal_ element occupying its appointed space, and that it has nothing to do whatever, with the vast _inner globe_ which is entirely shielded from it by the intervening void, denominated by Astronomers as a surrounding nonluminous atmosphere. Sir John Herschel tells us that his investigations led him to the belief that this shields the globe within, and thus renders it susceptible of maintaining life, or some form of animated existence. Hence, we deem the evidences afforded by astronomy, strong, if not fully conclusive that our hypothesis is correct. But when we add to this the evidences found in the Bible--God's own revelations to man--we think there can scarcely remain a doubt in the mind of any who follow us in this investigation. * * * * * We now propose to consider more definitely the nature of that volume of flame, or intense heat, which we denominate the _Sun_. Of its temperature it is difficult to form an estimate the least comprehensive. We know our furnace heat will fuse cast-iron at a little less than 3,000 degrees. Oxy-hydrogen flame--one of the hottest known--is estimated at about 14,000 degrees Fahrenheit, while the temperature ascribed to the Sun is about 12,000,000. There is nothing our senses can realize, or our minds conceive, that will enable us even to approximate the intensity of this heat. * * * * * Now we have seen that the Sun is the source of all light and heat; the source--when the element is concentrated--of that which we denominate _fire_. The phenomena that fire pervades, by some of its constituents, every thing, and all space, is incomprehensible otherwise than in the belief that the Spirit of God is everywhere. Although fire is always on this Earth in a concentrated form, yet its source is the Sun, and from this source we can concentrate it into visible ignition. And yet we see that the element itself is _ethereal_; it will consume by combustion, yet its heat and flame always tends upward, and disappears in its own ethereal element, and we can recognize no solid substance in it. We can feel and realize its warmth and vivifying influence; we enjoy the light, as one of its productions, yet all are _ethereal_, and we cannot grasp, mould, or retain it. We know that the Sun--that volume of heat--is the active source and agency of life and animation, and it imparts its blessings to us in a thousand ways; yet, misused, it proves the source and element of punishment and destruction. We have said that light and heat are the two great stimulants of vital force. These two stimulants are inseparably connected. Heat is the source of light, and without heat _there would be no light_, for even reflected light is derived from this source; this is manifest to every intelligent mind. Therefore, we see plainly that the Sun is the source and mainspring of all animation, and to its influence, directed and controlled by the Allwise Creator, are we indebted for every blessing--nay, even life itself. It acts upon the elements appointed unto it, and brings forth all animation. It causes the earth to yield her productions; clothes the forest with green, gives to the "rose" and the "lily" their beautiful tints and fragrance, and imparts to the flowers of garden and forest their thousand variegated hues. It gives to man his strength and wisdom, and to woman her beauty and loveliness, and--with refined and cultivated intellect--her ten thousand charms. _THE PLANETS OF OUR SOLAR SYSTEM._ Let us now turn our attention, for a short time, to the contemplation of the planets, or worlds, belonging to our own solar system; those within the domain of our own Sun, and to which it dispenses light and heat. With these, our Astronomers are, so to speak, quite familiar. We cannot do better than to present them to you in the language of Dr. Child, whose writings have afforded us so much correct data in preceding pages. "In gazing at our fellow-planets on a clear night, as we see them stand out with pre-eminent brightness among the twinkling stars, who has not longed to penetrate the mystery of their being, and to know whether they, like our own Earth, are worlds full of life and movement? The vast distance that intervenes between us forbids us to expect a direct solution of the question, for no instrument yet made, or that we can hope to make, will bring their possible inhabitants within the range of our vision. We are reduced, therefore, to survey them with the sifting force of intellect, and to rest contented with such circumstantial proof as is derived from a knowledge of their general structure, and the analogies subsisting between them and our Earth. "Among our nearest neighbors, _Venus_ is nearly the size of our Earth; and _Mercury_ and _Mars_, though considerably smaller, would still form worlds which, to our ideas, would not in their magnitude be so very different from our own. As before remarked, all the planets revolve in elliptical orbits round the Sun, and the time consumed in their journey constitutes their year. Their polar axis is not 'straight up and down,' but leans over or is inclined to the plane of their orbit, so that each pole is turned toward the Sun at one period of the year, and away from it at another. This arrangement insures the regular alternation of seasons and a variety of climates on their surface. The orbital inclination of _Mars_, for example, is much the same as that of the Earth, and, therefore, the relative proportion of his seasons must have a close resemblance to our own. It might be expected under these circumstances that ice would accumulate toward the poles in winter time, as on our Earth, and accordingly glacial accumulations have not only been observed by Astronomers, but it has been remarked that they occasionally diminish by melting during the heats of summer, while they increase in winter. Now as the planets, like the Earth, turn round on their axis with perfect regularity--and those just mentioned do so in very similar periods of time, hence, all have their days and nights. "We have already stated that the Earth and its fellow-planets are kept steadily in their orbits by the exact adjustment of _centrifugal_ and _centripetal_ forces. Hence each moves in its regular order. "Now by way of comparison, Astronomers have denominated the Sun as a globe two feet in diameter, or six feet in circumference. Starting from this globe let us wing our way across the space filled by the solar system. A short flight of thirty-seven millions of miles brings us to a world which, compared to the two-feet globe, is no larger than a grain of mustard seed, while it is so bathed in the Sun's dazzling rays that it is not easily distinguished when viewed from the Earth. This fussy little planet whirls round the Sun at the tremendous pace of 100,000 miles an hour, by which he proves his title to be called _Mercury_, the 'swift-footed,' of mythology. At a distance of sixty-eight millions of miles from the Sun we behold _Venus_, the brightest and most dazzling of the heavenly hosts. In comparative size she may be represented as a _pea_. She is our nearest neighbor among the planets, and the conditions under which she exists recall many of those under which we ourselves live. About ninety-five millions of miles from the Sun we come upon another 'pea' a trifle larger than the one representing _Venus_, and in it we hail our own familiar Mother Earth. Here we shall not now linger, but passing onward some fifty millions of miles we are attracted by the well-known ruddy glow of _Mars_--whose comparative size is that of a _pin's head_. His mean orbital speed is 54,000 miles an hour--nearly our own pace--but as he takes twice as much time to run round the Sun as we do, his year is consequently twice as long. "Casting a glance behind, we are reminded of the growing distance that now separates us from the sun by the perceptible waning of his light. "We next spread our wings for a very long flight. In passing through the "asteroid" zone of solar space, about 260 millions of miles from the sun, we may chance to fall in with some worlds of smaller dimensions than those we have been contemplating. We know very little about them, except that their ways are eccentric and mysterious. At length the shores of huge _Jupiter_ are reached at a distance of nearly 500 millions of miles from the sun. To carry on the comparison, he is a "small orange" to the "pea" of our earth, or to the two feet globe that represents the sun. His orbit is a path 3,000 millions of miles long, which he accomplishes in an "annual" period of about 12 of our years. The sun's light has now shrunk considerably; but four brilliant moons or satellites, one or more of which are always "full," help to afford some compensation. But let us "onward" in our "outward-bound" course. We again pass through a space of nearly equal distance as that of _Jupiter_ from the sun. We are now more than 900 _millions_ of miles distant from the central pivot. Here we fall in with _Saturn_, whose comparative size may be represented by an orange considerably smaller than the last (bear in mind the comparative sizes, our earth as a "_pea_" to these each an orange). His year swallows up almost thirty of our own. And in this far distant region the Sun, though giving only about one ninetieth part of the light which we receive, is still equal to 300 full moons, and is at least sufficient for vision, and all the necessary purposes of life, while no fewer than eight satellites supplement the waning sun-light, besides a mysterious luminous "ring" of vast proportions. "Twice as far away from the Sun as Saturn, _Uranus_, represented by a _cherry_, plods his weary course. Although his real diameter is 35,000 miles, his circumference over 100,000, being more than four times the size of our own earth, yet he is rarely seen by the naked eye. His annual journey round the Sun is 10,000 millions of miles, and he consumes what we should consider a lifetime, 84 _years_, in getting over it. Our little _earth_ has now faded out of sight. "Only a few years ago, _Uranus_ was the last planetary station of our system, but the discovery of Neptune in 1846, gave us another resting-place on the long journey into space. Here, at a distance of nearly 3,000 _millions_ of miles from the Sun, we may pause awhile before entering upon the more remote exploration of the '_starry_ universe.' "We are approaching the frontier regions of our system, and the Sun's light and the power of his attraction are gradually passing away. Between the shores of our Sun-system and the shores of the nearest star-system--they also being suns--lies a vast, mysterious chasm, in the recesses of which may still lurk some undiscovered planets, but into which, so far as we yet know, the wandering comets alone plunge deeply. "We now stand on the frontier of the Sun's domain, and are, in imagination, looking across one of those broad gulfs which, like impassable ramparts fence off the different systems of the universe from each other. It seemed needful that the great Architect should interpose some such barrier between the contending attractions of the giant masses of matter scattered through space; that there should be a _sea_ of limitation in which forces, whose action might disturb each other, should die out and be extinguished. In it the flood-light of our glorious Sun gets weaker and weaker, and its bright disk wastes away by distance, until it shines only as a twinkling star. And the strong chain of its attraction which held with firm grasp the planets in their orbits, after dwindling by fixed degrees into a force that would not break a gossamer, is finally dissipated and lost. "Now we ask, Is it likely that those vast orbs--with masses and densities so wonderfully modified and adjusted in accordance with what we perceive to be the requirements of living creatures--with years and months, days and nights, seasons and climates--with atmosphere and twilights, trade-winds and currents--with clouds and rains, continents and seas, mountains and polar snows--with sun, moon, and stars, and, in short, with all the elements that make up the conditions of a habitable globe--is it likely that those glorious works of the Creator should have been formed to lie waste, sterile, and unprofitable? Or even if we could bring ourselves to think that those masses, whose united bulk dwarfs our Earth into insignificance, had been solely created as make-weights to keep this little atom of Earth in its place, why should they have been provided with complicated systems of moons revolving round them to give them auxiliary light? The Sun's light they share in common with ourselves; but for what conceivable purpose should deserts void of life have been supplied with those wonderful lamps to light them up in the absence of the Sun? Conditions that might be incompatible with our organization, may be by adjustment of creative wisdom exactly suited to the beings placed to inhabit them. All life, even if it be essentially the same in principle, may not everywhere assume the same phase of outward existence, nor need we attempt to set limits in this respect to the Lord of Life. The spaces lie there furnished ready--the Word was only required to people them with life. "Such inquiries have an interest which goes beyond their mere astronomical import, for they touch our conceptions of God's greatness, wisdom, and power. Is there one who does not long to be able reasonably to cherish the thought that, far away from this _tiny_ speck of Earth, in the remote realms of space, we behold worlds inhabited by beings who, it may be, are privileged to know their Creator, and to bless, praise, and magnify Him forever." We have seen that all leading Astronomers agree in the fact of a "_plurality of suns_," and a "_plurality of worlds_," and their numbers so vast that they are beyond our computation. Now we hold that in all this vast creation, there is a controlling element, and that this element is necessarily manifest in all things, and so predominates that percipient intelligences should, and we believe can--to a certain extent--comprehend it. Do you ask, what is this element? we answer _fire_! We have presented to your mind--as far as we are able to comprehend--the Infinity of God's wisdom and power, as manifested in his wonderful Creations; not only in creating this Earth on which we live, and all pertaining thereunto, but of Heavens, Suns, Planets and Worlds, whose numbers are _millions_, as they are seen standing out and peopling the realms of boundless space, and yet we know that so vast is the infinity of His wonderful creations, that we have given to the mind only a bird's-eye view within the borders of His boundless Empire. We are aware that the idea we advance--that the vast globe, encircled by the photosphoric, ethereal flame (that which we denominate the Sun), _is our heaven_, as also the heaven for intelligences of the other planets of our solar system, and that there are numerous other suns of similar import which may also be heavens for created intelligences inhabiting their surrounding planets--is new to the mind of man, and that at first thought some may be incredulous; thus, as we said in the beginning, it has ever been with all important discoveries, and especially so of discoveries through the lights and science of astronomy. Nevertheless, the wondrous works of the Creator, as we have surveyed and contemplated them--we think--will justify our hypothesis. But to all the foregoing we shall still add stronger, and we think, more convincing evidences, when we come to contemplate the elements of the Sun--fire, heat, and light--in connection with God's intercourse by His Spirit, and His dealings with man. _GOD'S THRONE SHALL ENDURE FOREVER; SO ALSO SHALL THE SUN. CONCLUSIVE SCRIPTURAL EVIDENCE FOR ALL THAT WE CLAIM._ God hath sworn by His Holiness, that the seed of David (the MESSIAH), should "endure forever, and his throne as the Sun before him." The Psalmist, referring to the Messiah says, "His name shall endure forever. His name shall be continued as long as the Sun, and all nations shall call him blessed." Here we have the assurance of the eternal duration of the Sun; even as the Throne of God which is to "endure forever and ever." The promise is, that "His seed also will I make to endure forever, and his throne as the days of heaven. Thy throne O God is forever and ever." Thus, we see that the Sun and the heaven are to endure as long as the throne of God, and his throne is to endure "forever and ever." Now to us, to all, while dwelling in mortality, the Sun dispenses its blessings alike. "He maketh the Sun to shine on the evil and on the good, and sendeth the rain on the just, and on the unjust." Thus, we see that the Sun is the active agency for the dispensing of His blessings to man and all animation on this Earth. Its rays of light and heat penetrate the bosoms of oceans and seas, and draw up from "the fountains of the deep" the "liquid element" in ascending vapor, and condensing it into clouds, scatter and return it in rains, and gentle showers, to water and replenish the Earth and make it bring forth for sustenance of man and beast, and renew the verdure of nature. Now do we not see in all this, as in all things else, that the Sun--its heat and light--are God's agencies in sustaining all things? We have told you that we could comprehend that it _was_ an agency pervading and controlling all things. But you have doubtless noticed the fact that as we have followed up and grasped the revelations made by Philosophers and Astronomers, that the ablest of them have failed to comprehend the _nature_ of the eternal source of fire. All agree in the one fact, however, that it is derived from the Sun. No finite mind ever has comprehended, nor, it may be, ever will be able to fully comprehend it. We know that it exists. We apply to it properties and principles, or components which form the element. Beyond this we cannot go, only we know that God himself is its author; that it is an element intimately connected with Himself--nay more, that He has even revealed to us that _His Spirit is fire_! And when we contemplate the fact that it is the only completely destructive, or _annihilating_ element, and yet one that can _never be destroyed_; one that is to purify the righteous, and yet punish the wicked, we are led to the inevitable conclusion that it is an _attribute_ of the Great Jehovah. We believe it an element of creative agency, one that has existed--possibly--from all eternity, and will continue through all eternity to come. We are told that God, by His Spirit, is manifest in all His works. Now, what else than _light_, and _heat_, is thus manifest to us? It is positively _the source of all light_, and St. Paul tells us that "All things are made manifest by light;" while the Psalmist declares "His going forth is from the _end of the heaven_, and His circuit unto the ends of it, and there is nothing hid from the _heat_ thereof." Now we see that this declaration establishes our hypothesis of the location of heaven. His going forth from the _end of the heaven_--from the sun--and nothing is hid from the heat thereof--the Sun being the source of heat--is conclusive evidence that the _Sun_ is near--even at the _ends_ of the heaven. In the further contemplation of the hypothesis, that the Spirit of God is _as_ fire, you will remember that we have stated that some of the constituent elements of fire pervades all things, and also that God--_by His Spirit_--is everywhere, and in all His works. Hear the Psalmist, on this subject: "Whither shall I go from thy _Spirit_? Whither shall I flee from thy presence? If I ascend up into heaven, thou art there; if I make my bed in hell, behold, thou art there. If I take the wings of the morning, and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea, even there thy hand shall lead me, and thy right hand shall hold me. "If I say, surely the darkness shall cover me; even the night shall be light about me. Yea, the darkness hideth not from thee: but the night shineth as the day: the darkness and the light are both alike to thee." Mark well this testimony, that while the Spirit of God is everywhere, so, also, is that Spirit _light_, and there is no darkness, save to those vailed in humanity. When spirit is free from mortality; is accepted of God, and clothed upon with immortality; _as spirit_, it partakes of His own nature, and will, henceforth, dwell forever in eternal light. Now what the Sun is to this earth and its inhabitants, so also we believe it to be to the inhabitants of all the other planets belonging to its system; all of which worlds it controls, even as it does this. And here the mind goes out in the contemplation of the hypothesis, that all those other suns, standing far out in sidereal regions--each governing and controlling its own system of planets, or worlds--are also _heavens_ for created intelligences inhabiting such planets. God is Infinite, as well as Omnipresent. Infinite in wisdom, and in His creative power. "Who can set bounds to the Almighty?" Therefore _Suns_, and consequently _heavens_, may be numbered by _millions_, and their surrounding worlds by _billions_; yet all created, governed, and controlled by the infinite wisdom and power of the great Architect of the Universe. Such hypothesis is wonderful for finite minds to contemplate, yet not more so than the fact of the existence of our own solar system. That the Sun shall endure forever, no rational mind can doubt. God's own word assures this, and that His throne shall endure as long as the Sun. Should He quench the fires of the Sun, and yet make no other provision for light and heat, all would be blackness, darkness, and desolation, and no animated life could exist on this earth, or surrounding worlds. * * * * * Having assumed the hypothesis that that which we denominate the SUN is a volume of _photospheric-ethereal_, or SPIRIT-FIRE; that it is the source of all that we can comprehend of _light_ and _heat_; we have also stated our belief that it is an _attribute_ of the Eternal One--possibly an agency of _creative power_--we believe we shall be able to make this plain to every reflecting mind, in our further contemplations of the revelations which God has made of himself, as we find them recorded in the Bible. These revelations are plain, and we believe the time in the history of our world has come, when we should more fully comprehend them--even the nature of His manifestations, and thus comprehend more our own relations to Him, and by this means be enabled to "come to a knowledge of His truth," and more fully realize His prescience, day by day. That this has not been more fully comprehended heretofore, must seem a mystery to every reflecting mind. Now what are these revelations? Let us examine. We learn from Bible History, that "God created man in His own image, and after His own likeness." "In the image of God created He him; male and female, created He them." Thus, in creation, man is spoken of in the _plural_. "And the Lord God formed man of the dust of the ground, and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life; and man became a living soul." Now "the first Adam was made a living soul, and the second Adam a quickening spirit." The terms soul and spirit are held as synonymous; both having reference to our immortal nature, and, as this immortal nature emanated from God our Creator, and is of His own eternal attribute, it can never die; hence, it must exist through all eternity. Job asks, "To whom hast Thou uttered words? whose spirit came from Thee?" and in Ecclesiastes it is declared, "The spirit shall return to God who gave it." St. John, the revelator, tells us that "God is a spirit: and they that worship Him must worship Him in spirit and in truth." While St. Paul says, "His spirit beareth witness with our spirits, that we are the children of God." Now you will remember that St. John, the revelator, has told us that it was revealed to him that "the seven lamps of _fire_, were the seven spirits of God," while Job says, "A flame goeth out of His mouth, and God by his spirit garnished the heavens." We wish you to bear this evidence in mind. For Job not only speaks of a _plurality of heavens_, but explains by what agency they were garnished--even by the _Spirit of God_. Now we know that garnishment is transcendent brightness, and brilliancy; to adorn and polish _surface_. Is it not therefore, probable that Job had reference to that bright _ethereal spirit flame_, whose brilliancy blinds us if we attempt a lingering gaze at the Sun's bright disk? 'Tis said that heaven within is lighted with the "glory of God." In our previous arguments, we have showed, conclusively, that the Sun is the source of fire, heat, and light. Let us now further examine the offices of this element thus derived from the _Sun_, and note in this investigation whether it is not, in some way, intimately connected with _heaven_. _First._ Under the Mosaic dispensation, God commanded His Prophets, and Priests, to build unto Him an Altar, and to offer sacrifices thereon; and such sacrifices would be accepted by Him, as should be evidenced by his sending down fire from heaven to consume the offerings. He also commanded, through Moses, that the fires should ever be burning upon the altar, and that the Priests should continue to renew sacrifices and burnt offerings upon it. These sacrifices were as memorials before the Lord, and typical of the coming of Christ, who should be the "great sacrifice," to ransom fallen man. Now it will be remembered that when such offerings were made, fire came down from heaven and consumed the offerings, and thus made manifest that the sacrifices were accepted of God. (Let it be remembered that we have shown, as far as finite mind can comprehend, that the _Sun_ is the only direct source of fire, and then remember that _fire came down from heaven_.) In the book of Job we read, "_The fire of God has fallen from heaven._" The Psalmist tells us that "God is a _Sun_ and a shield, who maketh His angels spirits, and His ministers a flaming fire." Now we know that angels are God's ministers, and how oft do we find recorded in the Bible, how--under the earlier dispensation--they appeared on earth in forms of _fire_, and with the brightness of the _Sun_. The Psalmist tells us again that: "Our God shall come, a fire shall devour before Him. A fire goeth before Him and burneth up His enemies." The prophet Jeremiah proclaims: "Wherefore, thus saith the Lord God of hosts, Behold, I will make my words in thy mouth fire." The Psalmist answers: "While I was musing the fire burned." Thus, how plain the revelations that _God's Spirit is fire_. Not necessarily manifested at all times, by the burning and consuming our mortal bodies--this only in His _wrath_--but by the purifying of our natures; "burning up the dross, and base desires," and thus fitting us for the enjoyment of heaven and happiness, for "He shall be as a refiner's fire, and the righteous are saved as by fire." Let us hear what the prophet Jeremiah saith: "For behold the Lord will come with fire; and with His chariots like a whirlwind, to render his anger with fury, and His rebukes with flames of fire, and the slain of the Lord shall be many." Ah, when He comes forth with His _Spirit of fire_ in _wrath_ and indignation, then it is that this element is one of terrible destruction. Comprehending this, the a same prophet inquires: "Who among us shall dwell with devouring fire? Who among _us_ shall dwell in everlasting burnings?" Hear the answer of God, given through his prophet to all His obedient and faithful children: "Though thou walkest through the fires, thou shalt not be burned, neither shall the flames kindle upon thee." Again, of His Spirit in a milder form: "Is not my _word_ like fire, saith the Lord?" The prophet answers: "His word was in my heart as a burning fire." Now remember that: "By the _word_ of the Lord were the heavens made, and all the hosts of them by the breath of His mouth." _And here His word is represented as_ FIRE! In the first book of the Chronicles it is written: "Every man's work shall be tried by fire." And, in the second book of the Chronicles: "And when the children of Israel saw how the fire came down, and the glory of the Lord upon the House, they bowed themselves with their faces to the ground, and worshipped and praised the Lord." Thus, no one dared gaze on the brightness of that _glory_, and all bowed "with their faces _to the ground_." Turning to the book of Deuteronomy, we find written: "The Lord thy God is a consuming fire. Understand therefore this day, that the Lord thy God is He that goeth over before thee as a consuming fire. Out of heaven He made thee to hear His voice, that He might instruct thee; and upon earth He showed thee His great fire; and thou heardest His words out of the midst of the fire." In Leviticus we find written: "And there went out a fire from the Lord and devoured them, and they died before the Lord. And there came a fire out from before the Lord, and consumed upon the altar the burnt offerings--which, when the people saw, they shouted and fell on their faces." Let us contemplate, for a moment, the sacrilege of the attempt at using this element--during the old dispensation--to the consuming of an offering or sacrifice to any other than the _one true and living God_. Turn to the Book of Numbers, and read, "When the people offered incense upon the strange altar, there came down fire from the Lord and consumed the two hundred and fifty who offered the incense. And Nahab and Abihu died, when they offered strange fire before the Lord." Second Kings, vi. 17: "Elisha said, they that be for us are more than they that are against us; he prayed, and God opened the young man's eyes, and he saw; and behold, the mountain was full of horses and chariots of fire round about Elisha." Thus we see that this element--in its destructive form--is the ready manifestation of God's displeasure. Turn to Exodus, and read,-- "And the angel of the Lord appeared unto him (Moses), in a flame of fire out of the midst of a bush, and he looked, and behold the bush burned with fire, and the bush was not consumed." _Again_, "The cloud of the Lord was upon the Tabernacle by day, and a fire was upon it by night in sight of all the house of Israel." _Again_, "And the sight of the glory of the Lord was like devouring fire upon the top of the mount in the eyes of the children of Israel." Now let us consider this element in its offices when controlled by the Great Jehovah. Judges, xiii. 20: "For it came to pass when the flame went up toward heaven from off the altar, that the angel of the Lord ascended in the flame of the altar." Here there was no delusive manifestation, but the actual _flame of fire_, ascending upward toward heaven; even to the _Sun_ its original source. We will now turn to the Book of the Second Kings, and--in our mind's eye--join the prophets "as they walked and talked with Elijah" and witness one of the most sublime scenes the eye of man has ever beheld: "And it came to pass as they still went on and talked, that behold there appeared a chariot of fire, and horses of fire, and parted them both asunder, and Elijah went up by a whirlwind into heaven." Was there not a startling, and sublime revelation, that this element controlled, can be suited, even to our enjoyment of _happiness_ when the great change comes; when this mortal shall put on immortality? In the Book of Malachi--the last of the Old Testament scriptures--we hear the voice of Him who had promised deliverance, speaking to us through His prophet: "Unto you that fear my name, shall the _Sun_ of righteousness arise." Thus we see that the promised Messiah was spoken of as a _Sun_. Turning to the record of the New Testament, we find the Saviour's advent into this world signaled by a brilliant "Star," emblematical of the _Sun_, shining in all its splendor, brilliancy, and beauty, and leading the wise men to where lay the "Infant of days"--the veiled "Star," or _Sun_, of light and immortality. At a later day, behold Him manifesting His veiled brightness, as he stood "_transfigured on the Mount_" before Peter, James and John, when "_His face did shine as the Sun, and His raiment white as the light_." But we deem it unnecessary to dwell upon all the symbols of _fire_, _heat_, and _light_, so clearly representative, which may be found interspersed throughout the Old, and the New Testament pages. We will catch up a few others as we pass along, before, in mind, taking our stand with John, the revelator, on the Isle of Patmos. St. Paul tells us,-- "The Lord Jesus shall be revealed from heaven with His mighty angels in flaming fire, taking vengeance on them that know not God, and that obey not the gospel of our Lord Jesus Christ." And that the "Lord shall consume with the spirit of His mouth, and shall destroy with the brightness of His coming." St. John, says: "_I indeed baptize you with water, but he that cometh after me is mightier than I, he shall baptize you with the Holy Ghost and_ WITH FIRE." Thus we see that _spirit_ is denominated _fire_ in the ordinance of _Spiritual Baptism_. And St. Paul says: "By one spirit are we all baptized into one body." * * * * * Let us now glance at the account of John's spiritual vision while on the Isle of Patmos, as recorded in the Book of Revelation: "I heard behind me a great voice as the voice of a trumpet, saying, I am Alpha and Omega, the first and the last, the beginning and the ending, saith the Lord, which is, and which was, and which is to come, the Almighty. And I turned to see the voice that spake with me, and I saw seven golden candlesticks, and One in the midst of the candlesticks like unto the Son of Man. His head and his hair were white as the snow, and his eyes were as _flames of fire_, and his feet like unto fine brass, as if they burned in a furnace, and his voice as the sound of many waters. And he had in his right hand seven stars; and out of his mouth went a sharp two-edged sword; _and his countenance was as the Sun shining in his strength_." John saw the door of heaven opened and a voice as of a trumpet said unto him, "Come up hither, and I will shew thee the things which must be hereafter." He continues. "And immediately I was in the spirit, and, behold a throne was set in heaven, and one sat on the throne, who, to look upon was like jasper, and there was a rainbow round about the throne, in sight like unto an emerald, and around the throne sat four and twenty elders in raiment of white, and out of the throne proceeded lightnings, and thunderings, and voices, and there were seven lamps of _fire_ burning before the throne, _which are the seven spirits of God_. And the temple of God was opened in heaven, and there was seen in his temple the ark of his testament, and there were lightnings, and voices, and thunderings. And there appeared a great wonder in heaven, _a woman clothed with the Sun_. And I saw another mighty angel coming down from heaven clothed with a cloud, and a rainbow was upon his head and his face was, as it were the _Sun_, and his feet as pillars of _fire_." "_And the city had no need of the Sun_, for the glory of God did lighten it, and the Lamb is the light thereof." "And there shall be no night there, for the Lord God giveth them light, and they shall reign forever and ever. The Lord God shall be unto them an everlasting light, and the days of their mourning shall be ended." "_Then shall the righteous shine forth as the Sun in the Kingdom of their Father. Who hath ears to hear let him hear._" (Matt. xiii. 43.) * * * * * We have quoted the foregoing Scriptural passages--to which we might add scores of others of similar import--to show the connection of the element of fire, heat and light--with God himself, and that while it proves the agency; at least in dispensing His blessings to all animated life, and can be so controlled by Him that--even in its intensity--it cannot harm the righteous, either in body or spirit, when He interposes; yet it is the certain agency of destruction, and the torment of the wicked at His will; or without this interposition. Certain it is, that it is the _agency_ by which He has made Himself manifest to man, and this agency still continues in the dispensing of all the manifold blessings we enjoy, day by day, and should cause every heart to turn to Him with reverence and grateful emotions. The mind of the Christian world should acknowledge the omnipresence of the Infinite One; that He pervades all space, and is manifest in all things; while each individual should feel as Elihu did when he uttered the words, "The _Spirit_ of God hath made me, and the breath of the Almighty hath given me life;" and exclaim with the Psalmist: "I will bless the Lord at all times, His praise shall continually be in my mouth. The eyes of the Lord are ever upon the righteous, and His ears are open unto their cry. O magnify the Lord with me, and let us exalt His name together. God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble." "Lord, thou hast been our dwelling-place in all generations. Before the mountains were brought forth, or ever thou hadst formed the earth and the world, even from everlasting to everlasting, thou art God." Now we have seen that God--by His Spirit, or influence--is everywhere; that he pervades the universe of His Creation; that his nature is eternal and indestructible, while all else--save man's immortal nature derived from God--is destructible. We are plainly told in the Bible that the _Spirit of God is fire_; that _His Word is fire_; that He is like a _refiner's fire_--even as a purifier of silver. That every man's work shall be tried _by fire_; the righteous saved as by _fire_; that, to his people, He will be as _a wall of fire_; and though they pass through the fire they shall not be burned; neither shall the flames kindle upon them. And yet our God is a _consuming fire_, before whom the wicked shall not stand. That the _fire_ of His anger, and His _wrath_, shall be kindled against them, when all the proud, yea, and all that do wickedly shall be cast into the fire that will never be quenched; whose flames shall ascend up forever and ever. Oh, how plain the revelations of God as to the immortality of the soul, and a future state of existence! The righteous to enter into, and enjoy eternal life; the wicked--who are dead in trespasses and in sins--to enter into eternal death, even the "death that never dies." How _startling_ the fact of these plain revelations! God is now made manifest to our daily and hourly comprehension. How dare we trifle with Him, and our own soul's immortal interest? We are daily and hourly rushing on to our own eternal destiny. Ere another year, a month, a week or day is past, we may realize that "it is not all of life to live, nor yet of death to die." No one can escape the eternal fiat of Jehovah, "_dust thou art and unto dust shalt thou return_." As death leaves the body so judgment finds the soul. "The righteous shall inherit eternal life;" "the wicked shall be driven away from the presence of God, and from the glory of His power," and take up their abode with tormenting devils "in everlasting burnings." Stop, poor wandering child of sin; yield obedience to the requirements of God's law; "acknowledge Him in all thy ways, and He shall direct thy paths." The Psalmist tells us that "_the Lord God is a Sun_." Saint John tells us that, while in the Spirit, it was revealed to him that the "_burning lamps of fire were spirits of God_." Now remember that we have told you that the vast volume of flame of _ethereal fire outside_ and _around_ the heavenly world, is all that we can see or comprehend as the _Sun_; that flame is the source of all _light_, heat, and animation: hence, considered in connexion with its offices, may we not safely conclude that it is an _attribute of Jehovah_? The prophet Malachi foretold the coming of the "Sun of righteousness," behold the "star in the east!" Who can doubt this star being a visible manifestation of the _Spirit of God_? Christ, the Son of God, is called "the _Sun_ of righteousness; the bright morning star." His advent into the world was signalized by this sacred emblem--even by the _Spirit of God_ revealed as the _brightness of a star_. How appropriate this representation, when the Son of God came to usher in the light of an eternal day to his people. Transfigured during His stay on earth, "His face did shine as the Sun, and His raiment was white as the light." Now remember, we are assured that the heavenly world and city "hath no need of the _Sun_, for the glory of God doth lighten it, and the Lamb (the Son of God) is the light thereof." Thus we think we have furnished conclusive Scripture evidence that _God's Spirit is manifested by fire_. Fire is the source of all light, and is also an element pervading all things throughout the vast universe of God--in air and earth, seas and floods, rocks and mountains, throughout all heights and depths. Hence, hear again the exclamation of the Psalmist: "Whither shall I go from thy _Spirit_? or whither shall I flee from thy presence?" Behold, God, by His Spirit, is everywhere, even throughout the vast extended universe of all His wondrous works. We have but to consider the source of this element--which is God himself--and we shall then easily comprehend how it can, by the same power, be adapted or made congenial to our mortal or immortal natures. We have said, He has created no element incompatible with, or uncongenial to His own nature, nor any that He cannot adapt to the condition of the spirit-life of His children. Fire is an element destructive of all things else save immortality, and that it is not destructive of this, we have evidence in the fact that the wicked shall be cast into the flames of hell, and suffer its torments for ever and ever. And yet, while it is an element destructive of all else, save immortality, it is one, and the _only one_ we can--even partially--comprehend, that can _never be destroyed_. Mortality shall be destroyed, and naught remain but immortality, purified by fire--_the Spirit of God_. Now in order that His children _here_, might comprehend His infinite power in controlling, or adapting this element to their happiness, He has manifested this power even with mortality on this earth. Our mortal bodies are susceptible of feeling its painful influences, and of being destroyed by it--save when He intervenes, and changes our nature so that it can have no impression upon us, or makes it a congenial element in which we can enjoy happiness. That He can do, and has done this, we have manifest in the miraculous preservation of the three Hebrew children. For their refusal to forsake the Living God, and worship the idol, or golden image set up by King Nebuchadnezzar, the king commanded that the furnace should be heated seven-fold, and they be bound and cast into it. This was done, and while the heat was so intense as to destroy those who bore them to, and plunged them into the fiery furnace, yet when the king looked into it "he saw four men loose and walking in the midst of the flames; praising God, and blessing the name of the Lord, and the fourth was like unto the Son of God." The king called them to come forth, and when the three who were cast in came forth, "not a hair of their heads was singed, nor even the smell of fire passed on their garments." Thus we see the power of God manifest in the adaptation at His own will, of this,--to our mortal bodies--painful and consuming element, to our condition of happiness. And, on the other hand, when this saving power is withheld, how certain is destruction, as manifested by its destroying those who approached near enough to the furnace to cast them in. O, the measure of happiness those children of the Most High enjoyed in the midst of the burning flames! shouting and praising God. And when they came out of the fiery furnace, they still continued their triumphant shout; calling upon everything--animate, and inanimate--throughout the vast Universe, to "bless, praise and magnify the name of the Lord forever." That God can, and does make this element suited to the enjoyment of happiness of His people, we have also seen manifested in the case of Elijah taking his seat, at the command of God, in the "chariot of fire," and with "horses of fire" ascending up into heaven. Thus, "changed," as the apostle expresses it, "in the twinkling of an eye," his mortality ceased, and "clothed upon with immortality," by Divine power, he could ride in triumph with his steeds of fire, sitting in his chariot of _burning flame_. We scarcely deem it necessary to refer again to the--almost universally conceded--fact of man's immortal nature. By the breath of God, man was made a living soul or spirit. God's spirit is _living fire_; hence this immortal nature of man is _living fire_, an attribute of God himself, and one which can never cease to exist; can never be annihilated, but will live on, and on through all eternity. But when this immortal principle of _spirit-fire_ leaves the body, mortality ceases to live, and must decay and moulder into dust. For, speaking of this mortal body, He hath said, "dust thou art, and unto dust shalt thou return," and "the soul shall return to God who gave it." _SUN AND HEAVEN._ Now to show the intimate connexion with the _Sun_ and _Heaven_, spoken of in the Scriptures, we will here group together a few of the many passages found written therein. The prophet Jeremiah, in referring to the great and terrible day of the Lord, says "the light shall be darkened in the heavens;" and in the Gospel according to St. Mark, referring to the same, we read that "the _Sun_ shall be darkened;" and in the Revelation, that "the _Sun_ and the air were darkened." Again, Jehovah, speaking to His people, saith: "I will cover the _heaven_, and make the stars thereof dark;" and, in order that we may more fully comprehend, he added: "I will cover the _Sun_ with a cloud;" and the Psalmist tells us that "He covereth the _heaven_ with a cloud;" and thus saith the Lord through His prophet: "Be not dismayed at the signs of _heaven_; for the heathen are dismayed at them." Thus we see that the _Sun_ and _heaven_ are often spoken of in connexion with each other in regard to light. The Sun is to us the source of _all light_, and in covering the _heaven_ He covereth the Sun. But we see, as above, that He hath made this matter plain to our comprehension by His own utterance: "_Be not dismayed by the signs of heaven; for the heathen are dismayed at them._" Now you will remember that the heathen, in ancient times--and even so with them at the present day--were always dismayed and frightened at the recurrence of an eclipse of the Sun, and imagined the time of the world had come to an end. But the science of astronomy has comprehended the laws of nature, and has revealed the true causes of these seeming phenomena to the enlightenment of the world, and many years previous to their occurrence. Astronomers can foretell the day, the hour, and even the very moment when they will appear, or be visible in any part of the world, as, also, when they will disappear. But we see, however, that God himself has spoken of such eclipses as "signs in the _heaven_," and yet they are eclipses of the _Sun_. But still more pointed and clear is the evidence of their connexion given by the Saviour, where the Pharisees and Sadducees desired him to show them "_a sign from heaven_." Hear His answer: "When it is evening, ye say, It will be fair-weather, for the sky is red; and in the morning, It will be foul weather to-day, for the sky is red and lowering. O ye hypocrites! ye can discern the face of the sky, but ye cannot discern the signs of the times." Now we here see that they asked Him for a sign from _heaven_, and the Saviour answered promptly by referring to the apparent phenomena produced by the disappearing and reappearing of the _Sun_. Thus answering by signs which _they_ had marked; _produced by the Sun_, which covereth the heaven from our view. We have shown what all must acknowledge; that the _Sun_ is the only source of fire, heat, and light which is comprehended in Nature. Revelations of the Past, and predictions as to the Future, assure us that God's _wrath_ is revealed by _fire_. Now from whence cometh this fire when His wrath is thus revealed? God rained down fire and brimstone from heaven upon Sodom and Gomorrah, and thus destroyed those cities and their wicked inhabitants. Now, as the _wrath_ of God is revealed by _fire_, St. Paul sets this matter at rest. Hear him: "_The wrath of God is revealed from heaven against all ungodliness and unrighteousness of men._" Thus, His spirit of wrath is manifested by fire; the _source_ of fire is the _Sun_, and He sends _fire from heaven_. Hence, we cannot for a moment doubt the correctness of our hypothesis that the source of fire, as manifested in the Past, and also that which shall be manifested in the Future, is the _Sun_. And wherein it is declared that fire came down from heaven, or out of heaven, it was natural that such expressions were used, because it was held that God resided in heaven, and He sent down fire from thence to execute His judgments. _A PLURALITY OF HEAVENS._ The idea of a _plurality of heavens_, and their numbers almost infinite, would seem at first thought to startle the mind, and disarrange all our conceptions of the extent and machinery of the universe, and of the employment of God, and all the angels, and other intelligences He has made. Yet its truth only brings home to us the insignificance of our own earth, and still more that of ourselves. We are too prone to think that this earth and its inhabitants are the principal objects of the Creator's care, and that _man_ is of vast importance in the order of His arrangements, and of augmenting His kingdom and glory. While the truth is, our world is insignificant, when compared to His wonderful creations, and each individual as but a single grain of sand among all that may be found upon the shores of oceans and seas. And yet all that He hath made _are_ the objects of His government and care. For "not even a sparrow falleth to the ground" unknown to Him. That in His omnipotent and infinite power He can, and has created separate systems of planet-worlds, and a central sun and heaven for controlling each, we cannot doubt; neither is there more of incomprehensible mystery in this contemplation than in that of our own system of planets, with its central and controlling _Sun_ and heaven. Let us turn to revelations made, as recorded in the Bible, and see if there are not declarations which sustain this hypothesis. In the second book of the Kings it is written: "_But will God indeed dwell on earth? behold, the heaven, and heaven of heavens cannot contain him_;" and in the second book of the Chronicles: "_But who is able to build him an house, seeing the heaven, and heaven of heavens cannot contain him._" The Psalmist says: "_The heavens; even the heavens are the Lord's_," and "_The heavens declare the glory of God_," and that "_By the word of the Lord were the heavens made, and all the hosts of them by the breath of his mouth._" Thus we have conclusive evidence of a _plurality of heavens_, while, possibly, their numbers are _millions_, their surrounding planet-worlds _billions_, with a wide expanse of surrounding "firmament of the heavens" bestrewn with "_glittering gems_," standing out the grand _empyrean_ covering of all. Says Dr. Nichol: "Mystery, indeed, heavy, almost oppressive, hangs over all the perceptive; but the shapes strown through that bewildering territory have nothing in common with the fantastic creations of a dream. It is the essence of these nebulæ that they are not formless, but, on the contrary, impressed indelibly by system on the grandest scale; clearly as a leaf they have organism; something has seized on their enormous volumes, and moulded them into a wonderful order." Says Child: "Thus every thing bears the mark of order impressed upon it by the Almighty hand. That noble gift of God to man--the telescope--has magnified Him by driving away every semblance of _chance_ from the firmament, and by exhibiting in its place designs and established law. Up there, as down here, the idea of irregularity or chance is but the suggestion of our ignorance." Thus, from a knowledge gained through that wonderful, and yet most exact of all sciences--Astronomy--we base our conclusions. _That_ science is the grandest, most perfect, and comprehensive of all sciences known to the human mind. It grasps, analyzes, and comprehends the laws and forces which make up and control the universe, and every other science known is intimately connected with, or based upon it. There is no chance-work in Nature; all things are moulded and formed complete by the great Architect, whose Word created them, and all the grand panorama of suns, moons, planets, worlds, and stars, are perfect and in the exact order of His creative wisdom. Whatever of incomprehensible mystery our hypothesis of those far-distant _suns_ and _heavens_ may involve, we feel satisfied of the correctness of our theory in regard to our own, and our mind is equally impressed with the probability of all the other planets belonging to the Sun's domain, being inhabited by living intelligences, and that, in the order of their Creator's arrangement, they too find their heaven of eternal existence there. We know there is room for all and to spare, within that heavenly empire, and would be if they and our own earth should remain repeopling and passing thither for cycles of ages to come; for, as we have seen from astronomical measurement, it is computed to be more than one million times the size of this earth. How enrapturing the thought, that there we may not only meet the prophets and seers of old; the apostles and martyrs; "those who went up through great tribulations," "who washed their robes and made them white in the blood of the Lamb;" our counselling ministers, who have assisted us in the way; there the loved ones of our hearts, who have already left us and this world of "sin and sorrow," and are now safely at "home;" there other loved ones who are yet on this earth and are striving with us for a home in that "better land;" but also, perhaps, there we shall meet messengers, and children of God from all the other worlds belonging to the Sun, or that heaven's domain; and with the innumerable company of angels, and all the ransomed hosts, dwell forever with our Saviour in the glory-light of the Spirit of God. O, who will not seek and strive for a _home in heaven_? _A PLACE FOR THE WICKED._ That there are two separate places and conditions--one for the righteous and the other for the wicked--we cannot doubt. In regard to no other fact are the revelations of God and declarations of the Scriptures more clear and explicit. This of itself should startle every inhabitant of Earth; cause due and solemn reflection; and incline every one to search for light, and truth, and for the way of salvation. In stating the facts contained in this volume, it has not been our design to indulge in a tirade against those who seem careless and indifferent in regard to their own souls' eternal interest. If our picture makes the final doom of the wicked a fearful one, we have only presented the declarations of God through his prophets, and of the Saviour and his apostles. These declarations are startling, when properly considered, and should awaken every mind to the consideration of what must be their final destiny, if they continue to neglect the overtures of mercy. The law of God is fearful in its denunciations against the wicked, and its sentence will be sternly executed. Therefore we would "persuade all to be Christians." If all the inhabitants of this Earth--all who have lived during the past, or may live and die on it through long ages to come--were saved and should go to dwell in that heavenly world, there would still be room there for more. Yea, even then, untold millions of chambers, ready and beautifully furnished by the Saviour in that vast and glittering "City of God," would still be unoccupied. And to the wicked, who will not turn from their evil ways, is lost forever the privilege of occupying those mansions; of walking the gold paved streets; of "drinking the waters from the fountains of life;" of wandering amidst the "shady groves," and along the banks of the beautiful rivers; of traversing valleys, and ascending the "hills and mountains of the Lord," and of plucking and eating the "ambrosial fruits" that grow on "the trees of life;" of having wealth and honor, and a safe and permanent home with the angels; the Prophets and Apostles of old; with Moses, and David, and Elijah; with Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, and with all the great and good of every age and clime--even with all "the redeemed of the Lord" "who have washed their robes and made them white in the blood of the Lamb"--with kindred friends from Earth; with angels and spirits of just ones made perfect, yea, "_with all the ransomed hosts_," and above all, with Christ, the Son of God, who is, and will there be King and ruler forever. And for what are all these exchanged? Let us see. The Bible is the sure Word of God. It tells us that "the wicked shall be driven away in their wickedness;" that they "shall be cast into outer darkness, where shall be weeping and wailing, and gnashing of teeth." They "shall be turned into hell with all the nations that forget God:" "They shall be cast into the lake of fire, and the smoke of their torment shall ascend up forever and ever." "These shall go away into everlasting punishment," "But the righteous into life eternal." The blessed Saviour, who died that they _might_ have eternal life, "shall say unto those on his left hand (the wicked), depart into everlasting fire;" while to those on his right hand (the righteous), "Come, ye blessed of my Father, inherit the Kingdom prepared for you before the foundation of the world;" "enter thou into the joys of thy Lord." Yes, reader, God has prepared the two places, and it rests with _you_--as a free moral agent--to make your choice, and act accordingly. He will never drag you into heaven by force. You are the rightful inheritor of a precious immortal soul. He has prepared a place of perpetual happiness, and _invites_ you to come to it. There you may find a home, with peace, love and joy. There is for you honor and wealth, and a "crown of glory." There the fountains, and "rivers of life," and an abundance of spiritual food. There neither decrepitude nor old age, nor sickness, sorrow, pain, nor death; but the bloom of eternal youth and beauty may rest on thy brow forever. Make your choice, and make it _now_, for delays are dangerous, and death and the judgment may be near unto you. The _spirit-fire_ of God's love is now kindling in your heart, and I hear you say, "_yes_, I would like to be there." We implore you, quench not that _spirit-fire_ of love, or it will change to a consuming SPIRIT-FIRE OF WRATH, and when your soul is released from the body, that spirit-fire will become an intense burning flame, and will be your torment forever and ever. The very thought of enduring _forever_--after this short life has past--should startle the mind of every intelligent being, and cause the most serious reflections. None can save but God, and this salvation is through His Son, the Lord Jesus Christ. All must go to Him. Our ministers can only advise and instruct, and to do this properly, they must themselves be holy men of God. Christ Himself assumed the office of the Priesthood. He made the atonement. He is now our _only_ High Priest, and all must go to Him. The wealth of the universe, given to an earthly Pope, Bishop, or Priest, could not save one single soul, nor purchase it from perdition. And yet salvation is freely offered to all who will forsake their wicked ways, and come to God through love, and faith in the Lord Jesus Christ. All are convinced of the immortality of the soul, and of a future state of existence. The Word of God has set this matter at rest, while it is fully evidenced by the inherent desire in every heart and mind that it should be so; even this "longing after immortality." So, also, does enlightened reason convince all that there will be a separation of the righteous from the wicked in their future conditions. There is no true harmony of mind and spirit between them even in this world; much less could there be when the righteous are made pure and clean by the "blood of the Lamb." There has always been antagonism between the "spirit of light" and the "spirit of darkness." The first gives "light, life, and liberty." The second, darkness, death, and bondage. The word and revelations of God teach this fact, while the experience and heart admonitions of all confirm it. Even the ungodly condemn wickedness, and yet, strange to say, continue on in sin. There has, from the beginning, been spiritual antagonism between the good and the bad, and a consciousness upon the part of the wicked of their own wrong-doing. This has been the case ever since wicked Cain slew his brother Abel; God then pronounced His curse upon the perpetrator of that wicked deed, and His curse has stood against all wicked doers from that time to the present, and will through all time to come. Bible history is replete with evidences of His judgments against them, and plainly tells us that there are two separate places, one wherein the righteous shall enjoy happiness and eternal life; the other wherein the wicked shall be punished, and endure a living death that never dies, showing us plainly that, "It is not all of life to live; nor yet of death to die." * * * * * Now, the _location_ of that place of torment will claim a few moments of our attention. Of this we think we are _not_ left to conjecture alone. We believe our hypothesis of the location of heaven is correct, and that we have one equally certain of the location of _Hell_, and that each hypothesis strongly corroborates the other. First, let us take direct testimony; that given by the Son of God himself, who is to be the judge of all--even the "quick" and the "dead." The first are those quickened into life by the spirit, the last are "those who are dead in trespasses and in sin." You will find this evidence in the 16th chapter of the "Gospel according to Saint Luke." Christ, the Son God, said, "There was a certain rich man, who was clothed in purple and fine linen, and fared sumptuously every day: And there was a certain beggar named Lazarus, who laid at they rich man's gate, full of sores, and desiring to be fed with the crumbs which fell from the rich man's table; moreover, the dogs came and licked his sores. And it came to pass that the beggar died, and was carried by the angels into Abraham's bosom; The rich man also died, and was buried, and in hell he lifted up his eyes. Being in torments, and seeing Abraham afar off, and Lazarus in his bosom, he cried and said, Father Abraham, have mercy upon me, and send Lazarus, that he may dip the tip of his finger in water, and cool my parched tongue, for I am tormented in this flame. But Abraham said, Son, remember that thou in thy lifetime receivedst thy good things, and likewise Lazarus his evil things, but now he is comforted and thou art tormented. And beside all this, between us and you there is a great gulph fixed; so that they who would pass from hence to you cannot; neither can they pass to us that would come from thence." "Then he said, I pray thee, therefore, father, that thou wouldst send him to my father's house, for I have five brethren; that he may testify unto them, lest they also come into this place of torment. Abraham said unto him, they have Moses and the prophets; let them hear them. And he said, nay, father Abraham; but if one went unto them from the dead, they will repent. Abraham answered and said unto him, If they hear not Moses and the prophets, neither will they be persuaded though one rose from the dead." Thus, we see plainly that there are two separate places; one for the righteous, who are saved through obedience and faith, and the other for the wicked who are lost through disobedience and unbelief. Nothing could be more plain, pointed, or conclusive. Now let us recall to your mind that which we have related in preceding pages; wherein we have told you that most Astronomers have agreed upon the fact, or hypothesis, of two atmospheres around the vast globe we have denominated heaven. The one next to it appears to be _non-luminous_; while the outer one--around this--is _luminous_, which they denominate _photosphere_, to which we have added _ethereal_, or "_spirit-fire_." This is what we see in looking at the Sun, and is the vast volume of fire, or _ethereal flame_, that sends out heat and light to this and other surrounding worlds. This light and heat extend over a region of the illimitable space, not less than _six thousand millions of miles in extent_. We have endeavored to approximate to the mind the intense heat of the Sun at its source, but it far exceeds finite comprehension. We have also given you the views and suppositions of able investigators that the extent of that photosphere, or volume of flame, is vast indeed. It is said that 'flame-like masses--some computed to be one hundred and fifty thousand miles in length--are piled upon and overlap each other, and sweep onward in constant agitation like mountain billows of living fire.' This, as we have told you, is the source of all fire, or heat known to us on this Earth, and to all the other planets of our solar system. The precise nature and elements of fire, we have said, we cannot fully comprehend; neither its original source, save that it emanated from the Great First Cause. The Sun is its direct source to us, and we realize it always the same; never augmenting nor diminishing. We know that it is the source of light to a vast region around, and, from the offices it performs, we cannot think less than that it is--as we have before said--an attribute of the Great Jehovah; and especially this when we consider God's own revelations as found recorded in the Bible. In describing the dimensions of the _Sun_, we have said it is 2,655,000 miles round it, or to bring this vast extent nearer our comprehension, we may state that it would require 321 Earths, the size of this, set side by side to reach around it, and vast numbers more to cover its surface, and when thus covered with worlds like this, the stratum would only be about 8,000 miles deep, while it is reasonable to estimate that _photospheric flame to be 100,000 miles in depth_. We have mentioned the "_inner globe_," estimated to be more than a million times the size of this Earth, and we have denominated it _heaven_, and this outside surrounding volume of ethereal fire we shall denominate _hell_, as we believe no other true hypothesis can be advanced. And, in assuming this, we believe ourselves sustained by the revelations of God, as well as by all we can comprehend of Nature. In order to incite our minds to know and comprehend more of Him, and become obedient to His requirements, God has shown us, by manifestations, His instrument of destruction and punishment. His prophets have also announced His threatenings against the wicked, and have told us that _fire_--the element of heat--is the instrument with which He will fulfil His threatened vengeance, and we have seen this manifested by the destruction of the "cities of the plains"--even "Sodom and Gomorrah," as also the destruction of those who offered incense upon strange altars. Now as this volume of flame, denominated the _Sun_, is the _only_ source of fire; and as fire seems to us one of the controlling elements of nature, and pervades all things, and God rained down fire and destroyed those cities, and also sent down fire and destroyed those who offered incense on a strange altar, we plainly see where the fire is that is to be the punishment of the wicked. That it is said "fire came down from heaven," or "out of heaven," does not vitiate, but rather confirms our hypothesis. For God is omnipresent, and dwells in _all_ heavens, and, from that region, _that permanent source of fire_, He commanded--doubtless--the concentration of the rays of the Sun, and it thus came at His command from heaven, and fell as flame of fire. But to prove that our hypothesis as to the location of hell is correct, we direct your mind again to the narrative of the Saviour, of the rich man in _hell_, and Lazarus in Abraham's bosom. That Abraham was in heaven no one can doubt, while we are plainly told that the rich man was "_in hell_," and, although "afar off," yet within speaking distance. How far distant the voice of _spirit_ can be heard, no one in mortality can know. We know that on this earth sound is limited because of the density of the atmosphere, and we realize even here that when the atmosphere is the more rarified, the greater the distance of sound. It is computed that the condensed, or earth-atmosphere, extends outward from the earth about forty miles. When we have passed this stratum, and have gained space in the _ethereal atmosphere_, it may be possible that the same volume of voice we are accustomed to here, might be heard thousands, or even millions of miles distant from us. Heat rarifies atmosphere as we here realize by the influence of the sun. If the addition of a few rays of the sun will dissipate the dense clouds, and so materially rarify our atmosphere at the distance of ninety-five millions of miles, what may we suppose the condition of the atmosphere ninety millions of miles nearer its source? Therefore, we may readily believe that although Dives, and Abraham, were far apart--possibly thousands of miles--yet they could see and converse with each other. You will remember that astronomers inform us that there seems a volume of non-luminous atmosphere, or void, between the outer phostosphere of fire and the body of that _inner globe_ (which globe we believe is heaven). Now remember the words of Father Abraham, "Beside all this, between us and you there is a great gulph fixed; so that they who would pass from hence to you cannot; neither can they pass to us that would come from thence." Is not here conclusive evidence that the two places--heaven and hell--are not in far distant regions from each other? _Remember._ It is said of the wicked "These shall go away into outer darkness, there shall be weeping, and wailing, and gnashing of teeth." When death and hell shall give up their dead (for the souls of the wicked--who are dead in trespasses and in sin--are still enduring that death that never dies), and all appear before the Judgment seat of Christ, where "every one shall receive according to the deeds done in the body," and the wicked are "driven from God, and from the glory of His power," to reach again their eternal destiny, they will doubtless pass through that dark void, even that "great gulph fixed between," and there _will_ be weeping and wailing, and gnashing of teeth. * * * * * Although we believe the evidence furnished is conclusive beyond cavil or doubt to every intelligent mind, yet we will still add more affirmative arguments which we desire that all should consider. First, Let us refer again to the declarations--we have several times repeated--of the Prophets and Apostles. That heaven, and the Holy City in it, hath no need of the light of the _Sun_. That the "glory of God doth lighten it, and the Lamb is the light thereof." That there is no night there, but one eternal day. Now let us call to your mind the _extent_ of that empire wherein _the Sun does not shine_. From astronomical measurement, we may form in our minds an approximation of its dimensions. To fix for it a low estimate, we may safely conclude that the domain proper, is at least _five hundred thousand miles_ in diameter, and _one million five hundred thousand miles around it_. The empire is vast indeed, so great that, by comparison, we can form no correct idea of it. We can only approximate by saying that it would require about _one million of earths_, the size of this, to make a globe of equal magnitude. In order to bring all home to your own reason and comprehension, let us ask, Where else is it feasible for so large a place to _be_ whereon, or into which the _Sun_, or _suns_, do not or _cannot shine_? We have shown you that suns (the surrounding volumes of photospheric ethereal fire) are--so far as we can comprehend--the natural sources of light throughout the Universe of Jehovah's empire. They seem as God's own _eternal lamps_, scattered and placed at His will in different regions of illimitable space, to illumine the universe without, and give _light everywhere_, as also life and animation to all their surrounding worlds. Each perhaps to its own, even as our Sun does to its own planet-worlds. Now when we consider that the fact is well established by all leading Astronomers that this outside flame or volume of fire is _far out_ from that INNER GLOBE, or world, and that between them _there is a void_, possibly thousands of miles in depth; that the fires and light of the _Sun_ have no perceptible effect upon this non-luminous void--and, indeed, the void shields the globe within from the light and heat of the Sun--we can readily imagine the wise arrangement of the Great Architect, and also comprehend the truth of His own declarations, that heaven is a place where neither the Sun nor its heat shall light upon its inhabitants. Now the nature of the _element_ of this intervening void or space, whether _it_ is _ethereal_ or not, we cannot now comprehend. That it is a safe covering or shield to the world within, we can readily suppose. For Sir John Herschel says that it seems as "an awning or screen, protecting the body," or world within, from the Sun's heat. But we are not left to conjecture alone, without philosophical reason in this matter. We know the laws of gravitation and attraction are fixed and sure, and upon these universal laws we can base correct conclusions. The tendency of fire or heat is _outward_ and _upward_. The sense in which we use the term "upward" is that of space far out from the earth, or like solid bodies. We have shown, in our explanation of the law of gravitation, that _upward_ is simply away from the earth. Thus, we ignite material with fire and produce combustion here, and we see the flame _rise_, and feel and know the heat ascends _upward_. So also may the Chinaman do the same, at the same moment, on the opposite side of the globe--while his position is directly under us, as we construe downward--and yet the flame and heat of his fire ascends _upward_ from the earth where he stands, which is in a directly opposite direction from the course ours pursues. Thus, to us, outward from the earth is _upward_, no matter where our position on it. This tendency of heat upward, or away from the base of the fire, is plainly evident by the fact that heat will not penetrate to any considerable depth _downward_, neither when on the earth, or on a solid non-combustible foundation; nor yet when on an elevated platform, for its tendency, as we have shown, is always outward or upward. So also with the fires of the _Sun_; whatever the base of its fires may be, we see by the fixed laws of Nature that the tendency of its heat is _outward_, no matter from what portion of that base it may emanate. We cannot now comprehend the _nature_ of the base of the Sun's fires, but we know that the great Jehovah has provided it, and that it is founded in His wisdom, and is fixed and sure, and we have reasoned conclusively that it cannot be of combustible material. Hence, the only rational conclusion we can arrive at--from a thorough investigation of Divine revelations; from all the lights afforded by the science of astronomy; from the true philosophy of Nature, as well as from all that is visible and perceptible--is, that far within the circling photosphere of ethereal fire which we see and realize as the _Sun_, there is a solid body, a globe, a VAST WORLD, and that world is the heaven for all the righteous from this earth; that it is the Saviour's allotted empire, and that He is there the ruler of His people. _THE NATURE OF THE LIGHT OF THE HEAVENLY WORLD._ "_The glory of God doth lighten it, and the Lamb is the light thereof._" We have given the above Scripture quotation repeatedly in these pages, in order to forcibly impress the minds of all with the fact that the light of the heavenly world is _different_ from the light of the Sun; that it far transcends it in _brightness_. For we are told that it "is far above the brightness of the Sun shining in its strength," even "_seven-fold brighter than the Sun_." Let us contemplate what has been revealed of this "glory light." First. No _mortal_ ever has beheld the full radiance of the face, or glory of God. For He hath said that no one should see His face and live. In evidence of this, when Moses, who was so near Him, and desired so much to behold His face unveiled, prayed to Him saying: "I _beseech thee_, show me thy glory." There came an answer unto him. "_Thou canst not see my face, for there shall no man see me and live._" And in order to preserve the life of Moses, God placed him in the "cleft of a rock" and covered him with His hand while His glory was passing by. Others have desired to see God, and the brightness of His glory, yet such desire, while in mortality, is wrong, for none could behold it and live. It is recorded of Trajan, the Emperor of Rome, that he accosted Rabbi Joshua, saying: "You teach that your God is everywhere, now I should like to see Him." Joshua replied, "He cannot be seen, no mortal eye can behold His glory." The Emperor, however, persisted, contending that if He was everywhere, He could surely be seen, and thus derided the doctrine taught by Joshua. "Well," said the Rabbi, "let us try first to look at one of His ambassadors." To this Trajan consented. Joshua then led him forth into the open air at noon-day, and bade him "look at the _Sun_." The Emperor replied: "I cannot, for its light dazzles, and will _blind me_." Then replied Joshua, "If thou art unable to endure the light of one of His creatures, how canst thou expect to be able to behold the resplendent glory of the Creator? _The sight would annihilate thee._" Thus we find that in every representation of the "glory of God," its light is beyond our comprehension, and so overpowering that no mortal could behold it and live. We have, however, a feeble representation of this glory manifested by His Son. When Saul, of Tarsus, was on his way to Damascus, to persecute the disciples and followers of Christ, behold, at mid-day, a light, _above the brightness of the Sun_, shone around him and his band, and they all fell to the earth, and their leader was smitten with blindness, which continued for three days, and was only then relieved by the agencies which the Saviour appointed. When first smitten, hearing a voice that was not of Earth, he exclaimed, "Lord, who art thou?" The answer was, "I am Jesus whom thou persecutest." When the beloved disciple John beheld the Son of Man, walking in the midst of the golden candlesticks, the light and influence was so overpowering, that he "_fell at His feet as dead_." Thus we have a faint prelude of the light of the glory of God. Yet no one in mortality can behold it, even in a veiled form. But the strength of the _spirit-eye_ will enable us to behold the King in all His glory, "for we shall see Him as He is." _THAT HEAVENLY WORLD._ We need not stand on Pisgah's height, nor climb to the summit of the Andes, to catch a glimpse of that "HEAVENLY WORLD." But, grasping the telescope of _Faith_, and looking through _Revelations_, the humblest Christian, "low down in the valley," may see through the storm-clouds and tempests of life--yea, even through the "shadow of death"--and gaze with rapture upon the enchanting scene. The light of the _Sun_ pales without, as the flood-light of that _inner world_ breaks upon the eye. There is the resplendent "glory of God," shining with unequalled radiance and beauty. To the spirit-eye it is not blinding, neither will it even dim the sight. Fear not, ye feeble followers of the blessed Redeemer, to approach--even now--by faith and contemplation, the confines of that bright world; even though it is within that encircling photosphere of _ethereal fire_. There is no danger, for by-and-by that bright world will be your place of habitation. When the winged messenger comes and escorts you away from your earthly "prison-house," he will conduct you to that bright world, where "an abundant entrance shall be administered unto you" by your blessed Saviour. Remember it is written in the "Sacred Volume": "_The voice of God divideth the flame;_" and He hath said: "_I will be as a wall of fire._" "_When thou goest through the fire, thou shalt not be burned; neither shall the flames kindle upon thee._" "_Enter thou into the joys of thy Lord._" No such flames within. "_The Sun shall not light on thee; nor any heat;_" and yet there is a resplendent light, even the "glory of God," which illumines the Great City and all the vast realm. "_There is no night there_," but one eternal day; and when thou hast entered, "_The days of thy mourning shall be ended._" But hold heavenward the telescope of _faith_; let us, through the lights of revelation, endeavor to get a slight panoramic view. The inspired poet caught a glimpse before us. Hear him exclaim: "There, on those wide extended plains, Shines one eternal day; There God the Son forever reigns, And scatters night away." Behold! Spread out before us is the wide expanse of a glorious universe. See in the distance those hills and towering mountains; those beautiful valleys and wide-extending plains. See the innumerable "set thrones," and, in the midst of all, "THE GREAT WHITE THRONE!" and He who sits thereon is the SON OF GOD, who reigns, and is the ruler of this vast empire. See "before the throne a sea of glass like unto crystal," and around about the throne "four-and-twenty elders in raiment of white, with crowns of gold," while all around is "a rainbow, in sight like unto an emerald," or grand _empyrean_ covering resplendent with the light of the "glory of God." See that fountain of the "river of life" gushing from beneath the throne, and flowing on and on, meandering amidst mountains and hills, and through vast plains and beautiful valleys. See the crystal fountains playing on every hand, and whose waters are forever sparkling in the light of eternal day. See the towering forest trees and shady "groves of heaven," placed there by the "Word" of the Creator, during past cycles of eternity, and long before time commenced, their rich foliage presenting every variegated hue, their boughs laden with all manner of precious fruit suited for spiritual food, and their seasons for bearing are now and forever. But see yonder, near the base of that towering mountain,--whose summit seems to mount up a thousand miles high, and whose towering forests are waving in the gentle breezes of heaven, and, with all things else, seem but to reflect the light of the "glory of God;"--that vast plain spreading out from its base is the "GARDEN OF THE LORD." Its extent is even greater than that of our whole Earth. It is filled with trees bearing fruits; with shrubbery, and ten thousand times ten thousand various and variegated flowers perennially blooming. See the vast multitude of saints, attended by angels, as they meander through its labyrinths, culling choicest flowers, or lingering under "native bowers" or amid shady groves. No old age or decrepitude; no gray hairs to distinguish ages. The old seers and prophets; neither are Adam nor Methuselah, who dwelt on the earth nearly a thousand years, known here by age; neither do our own aged fathers and mothers show here any signs of decrepitude or advanced years, but, even as their own children--our brothers, our sisters, our husbands, our wives, and _our own children_, who have found an inheritance here--all are as in the bloom of youth and maturity, and will thus remain forever through succeeding cycles of eternity. Ah! methinks, amid that vast multitude you espy a father, a mother, a sister, a brother, companion or child, or some dear, loved friends from earth, who are now _radiant with beauty_ in that "Paradise of God," and that you would fain drop mortality, and, on _spirit-wings_ of love, go and join them and be forever at rest. Wait, _not now_; but if you have sought and found the "pearl of price," and are abiding in the "_love of God_," you, too, will get there by-and-by. Remember afflicted Job, who "knew his record was in heaven," yet with all this perceptive knowledge, hear him meekly say: "_All my appointed time will I wait, until my change cometh_," and "_though He slay me, yet will I trust in Him_." But while we have in hand the "telescope of faith" and the revelations of God as our light, let us change its direction a little, and add a new grasping power. See! Behold the "City of God" of which "glorious things were spoken,"--even the city of which John had a panoramic view while "in the spirit" on the Isle of Patmos. See its glittering "_jasper_ walls" as they loom up in the glory-light _fifteen hundred miles high_; and whose foundations are _fifteen hundred miles square_, covering a superficial extent of _two millions two hundred and fifty thousand square miles_. See! "Its foundations are garnished with all manner of precious stones," and there are "twelve vast gates of entrance, and the twelve gates are twelve pearls: every several gate is one pearl." Those gates are now thrown wide open, never to be shut again, for it is the "city of habitation" for the redeemed from Earth, and hundreds are arriving from our world every minute of time. See! "its walls are of pure gold--even as jasper," while "its streets are paved with gold transparent as glass." See its vast arches, minarets and towers, and its palatial mansions. Remember the blessed Saviour said, when about to leave our Earth, "_In my Father's house are many mansions_;" and added, "_I go to prepare a place for you, that where I am, there ye may be also_." Some of our friends have homes in those beautiful mansions. * * * * * It is enough. Our vision of these enchanting scenes is ended, and we are left to contemplate them in mind until our "appointed time" shall come, and then if we are ready when our "Lord and master calls," we, too, shall find a permanent home with the "redeemed of the Lord" in that "_heavenly world_," and then with St. Paul, we may see "the glory which shall be revealed." _THE DIMENSIONS AND CAPACITY OF THE CITY--THERE IS ROOM FOR ALL, AND TO SPARE._ "_And the city lieth foursquare, and the length is as large as the breadth; and he measured the city with a reed, twelve thousand furlongs. The length and the breadth and the height of it are equal._" Rev. xxi. Twelve thousand furlongs constitutes, by our measurement, 1,500 miles. Thus we see that the city lieth four-square, and its height is equal to its length or breadth of foundation. The base surface covers a superficial extent of 2,250,000 square miles. The extent of the city will give us over 3,375,000,000 cubic miles. One cubic mile alone will afford measurement of space for over 15,000,000 rooms 20 feet square, and the entire square of the city would afford about 50,625,000,000,000,000 rooms of similar dimensions. But we are not justifiable in the belief other than that it is a city of vast proportions, and one of grandeur and beauty. We are told that it is a "city of many mansions." Let us therefore contemplate it in this light, and estimate that only _one-fiftieth_ portion of its vast space is occupied by mansions; the balance open space, streets, avenues, and courts. Such mansions would thus afford over 1,000,000,000,000,000 rooms 20 feet square. We will now compute the number of inhabitants who have lived and died on the earth for 6,000 years past; the number living on it at present, and estimate how long of future time would be required to furnish one soul to occupy each room. It is estimated that there are at present 1,000,000,000, and that this number die during each period of thirty years. Now if all should find a home there, it would require more than _thirty millions of years_, at the same ratio, to furnish one soul for each room thus computed in those mansions. And if we estimate that only _one-hundredth_ part of the space is occupied by mansions, it would even then require 15,000,000 of years to thus people them. But we are assured that the wicked shall not enter there. That "wide is the gate, and broad is the way that leadeth to destruction, and many there be which go in thereat." We are therefore led to the inevitable conclusion, that by far the larger number of those who have lived and died on this earth, have failed to find their home in that "city of which glorious things are spoken." Contemplating, as we have, the vast magnitude of that city, we are justifiable in the conclusion that there is ample provision of mansions there, as the dwelling-place for other intelligences beside those from this earth; probably the home and abode of the angels; possibly, for inhabitants of the other planets belonging to the same solar system with our own earth, as all receive light and animation from the same sun, and all are governed and controlled by the load-stone power of attraction of that vast globe. Again, may it not be that all that has been revealed to us, is simply that which relates to _our_ future habitation, and that the city we have been contemplating is for the abode of the righteous from this earth? May there not be many other cities of equal, or even greater magnitude within that vast empire--even one such allotted to the inhabitants of _each separate planet_, and that each may have a king and ruler provided by the Creator of all? For all that we can comprehend of _our_ Saviour--who is to be our king and ruler--is, that he came from God the Father to ransom the inhabitants of this earth, and offer life and salvation to all who should believe in Him "with a heart unto righteousness." Remember, he said, "_In my Father's house are many mansions._" And added, "_I go to prepare a place for_ YOU, _that where I am there ye may be also._" The New Testament Scriptures teach the sublime truth that the great interest of our blessed Saviour is the salvation and happiness of those whom He denominates his children from this earth; those for whom He died, and who shall believe in Him "unto everlasting life." Hence, from all his teachings we believe this suggested hypothesis correct. The Psalmist says, "_There are set thrones of Judgment_," while the Apostles speak of "_thrones and dominions; principalities and powers_." There is ample room in that "Heaven" for all. _THE NATIVE POPULATION OF THAT HEAVENLY WORLD._ "The Angels of God."--Heb. 1. 6. So far as revealed to us by record of the Bible, the original or native inhabitants of Heaven are called "Angels." These are also called "messengers of God," and from all the lights we have, it would seem that their principal occupation and employment is to act as messengers; execute the commands of Jehovah, and to worship, and magnify the name of their Creator. Their perpetual residence, it seems, is in Heaven, yet from the manifestations of repeated visits to our earth, we can but suppose they are God's messengers, oft sent to _other_ worlds to do His pleasure. It would seem that they are possessed of intellectuality next to Jehovah himself, yet all knowledge is not given unto them. It also appears that there is a vast difference in their grades and positions. We read of Archangels, of Michael, and Gabriel, of the Sons of God. They are sometimes called "Stars." Thus, we read of "the morning stars which sang together." We also read of Cherubim and Seraphim. And it may be that some of the most exalted among them occupy thrones, and have control of "dominions," "principalities," and "powers." We are told that "Michael and _his_ angels" fought the "Great Dragon and his angels." Thus we see that they were the leaders, or had command over many angels. We are also justified in the belief that they are princes and peers, and belong to the Court; possibly form the ministerial cabinet, and are attendants in the council chambers of heaven. We have seen, through revelations, how oft--under the earlier dispensation--they visited our earth, to bear messages from God to the prophets, and to His people; to warn or announce His threatenings, or execute His commands in judgments upon the wicked. As angels they are "_Spirits_," and as commissioned "ministers" oft appeared as "_flames of fire_." From the revelations made to us, we know they are spiritual creatures of God, and that their nature is _immaterial_, or that they have existence in highly _etherealized_ bodies, which can be transported at pleasure to any remote or distant region of Jehovah's empire, with a celerity surpassing--possibly--the flight of electricity itself. Angels, as "_spirits_," are immortal, and hence will live forever. And thus also our own spirits must live forever, because derived from the _spirit-life_ of God. Revelations furnish us abundant evidence of the _spirit_ nature of angels. They were oft present and speaking with the prophets, and were yet _invisible_, as also within doors where locks and bars precluded the possibility of substance, or of earth-life animation entering. And yet again, we have evidence of their appearing in tangible form, and could be seen, and felt, and we read of their being "entertained as men unawares." When, however, they appeared as _angels_, we learn that their bodily aspect was that of transcendent beauty; their face and form resplendent with light, and a halo, as of Divinity itself, shone around them. It seems that angels have ever manifested a deep and abiding interest in behalf of our Earth, and of man. We are told that they celebrated the creation of this world "with songs of praise and shouts of joy." At the time of the birth of the Saviour, an angel from God appeared to the shepherds, who were watching their flocks by night, and announced the "glad tidings of great joy, and immediately there appeared with the angel, a multitude of the heavenly hosts" sounding loud the anthem of praise, "Glory to God in the highest, peace on Earth and good-will to men." How strange this incident! The tongues of men were silent in this the hour of dawn of their redemption, and the angels alone heralded the event, and sang the anthem of praise. An angel subsequently warned Joseph to seek a place of safety for the "Infant of days," as "Herod, the King, would seek to destroy the young child's life." During the Saviour's sojourn on Earth, how oft did angels appear and minister unto Him; even "strengthening Him," when His human nature staggered under the load of the sins of a guilty world. And when--seemingly--the "star of Bethlehem" had set, and the hope of the world seemed lost; when the promised Messiah was entombed; when dismay seized upon, and thick darkness shrouded the minds of all who had followed the Saviour; when even the Marys who loved Him, repaired at early dawn to shed their tears at His sepulchre: Behold! "_The angel of the Lord was there_;" had "rolled away the stone and sat upon it." He did not need to inquire their errand, but said unto them: "I know it is Jesus whom ye seek, he is not here, for He is risen." Oh, see what interest the angels have ever manifested in our behalf! "_Are they not all ministering spirits, sent forth to minister unto those who shall be the heirs of salvation?_" THE VAST NUMBER OF THE ANGELS. "_An innumerable company of angels._" Heb. xii. 22. Of the number of the angels we can form no proper conception. That their numbers are very great, we have evidence through Divine revelations. We are told that when the Law was given from Mount Sinai, there was in attendance upon the great Author of all "thousands of angels." Daniel, speaking of their attendance upon the "Ancient of Days" says, "thousand thousands ministered unto him, and ten thousand times ten thousand stood before him." When the star appeared in the "east," and led the wise men to Bethlehem where lay the promised hope of a perishing world, there appeared a multitude of the heavenly hosts, singing with sweet melody the anthem of redemption, and praises to God in the highest. When Peter unsheathed his sword to smite the servant of the High Priest who came to arrest his Master, the Saviour restrained him and said: "_Thinkest thou that I cannot now pray to my Father, and he shall presently give me more than twelve legions of angels._" While St. Paul speaks of an "innumerable company of angels in the heavenly Jerusalem." AMAZING STRENGTH OF ANGELS. "_Bless the Lord, ye his angels, that excel in strength, that do his commandments, hearkening unto the voice of his word._"--Ps. ciii. 20. Of the amazing strength of angels, we can form no adequate conception. "God is a Spirit," and by His Spirit hath created all things. We have seen that His angels are spirits, and that these spirits are _ethereal_ in their nature, so far as finite mind can comprehend. And yet their strength is wonderful to contemplate. St. John represents them as holding the four winds of heaven, and controlling the elements with a supernatural power. Commissioned by Jehovah for the purpose, an angel destroyed seventy thousand people of the tribes of Judah and Israel in three days. And again, an angel destroyed, in one night, one hundred and eighty-five thousand of a mighty army. It would seem that by permission, or at command, they are capable of exercising a power almost omnipotent. In the last days, great power shall be given them. They shall pour out the vials of Jehovah's wrath, smite earth and seas, cause the stars to fall, and even _chain the great dragon and cast him into the bottomless pit_. RAPIDITY OF MOVEMENT OF THE ANGELS. We will now consider another feature of the capacity of the angels, one that is fraught with deepest interest to the human mind, as it will give us some light of probabilities attending our future, when our spirits shall be released from our mortal bodies. This is the celerity, velocity, or rapidity of their movements. These celestial creatures seem to possess the power of transporting themselves with a celerity incomprehensible to finite mind. That it is equal, even if not more rapid than _electricity_, we cannot doubt. We incline to the opinion, however, that the velocity of their movement is, at pleasure, the same as that of the flight of _electricity_; and so also with our spirits, after leaving the body. No one can fully comprehend the _nature_ of electricity. We know that it exists, and to some extent we can control and use it as an agency for useful purposes; yet it is an existing element in nature, even as fire is. We may concentrate and use it, and we may profess to understand the combination of agencies which produce it. Yet all resolves itself back again into the simple fact that it is an _element existing in nature_, and its source is that of all else--the GREAT FIRST CAUSE OF ALL THINGS. Electricity is of more rapid flight than any other element or agency we can--even partially--comprehend in nature. If we had a wire laid around this Earth, it is estimated that a current of _electricity_ would belt the globe in about the _tenth part_ of a second of time, or travel at nearly the speed of _three hundred thousand miles_ a second, and would reach the Sun--_ninety-five millions of miles distant_--in a fraction over _five minutes of time_. The discovery and application of electricity is the most wonderful phenomenon that has ever been grasped by the human intellect, and we contend it is one of Jehovah's _invisible_ agencies in nature, which He has permitted man to comprehend in part, and thus to prepare the mind to comprehend more fully the infinity of His power, and the nature of our relation to Him. Hitherto, even the mind of faith has stood bewildered in regard to the transit of the soul, after death, to the place of its future habitation. Astronomers, by the aid of that wonderful gift of God to man--the telescope--have penetrated the borders of the far-distant sidereal regions; have caught rays of light which, it is now rendered probable, left their native nebulæ, or suns, more than _five hundred thousand years_ ago, and have travelled at the rate of 192,000 miles a second ever since, and are now successively beaming upon the assisted eye. Now, it would require more than _three hundred thousand years_ for a current of electricity to travel thence, even at the rate of 300,000 miles each second of time. And yet, although far distant regions have been penetrated and partially surveyed, still, nowhere within the trackless and boundless domain of illimitable space have Astronomers descried an object which they could denominate "Heaven." We say, considering all these circumstances, and that it would require three hundred thousand years, travelling with the rapidity of three hundred thousand miles a second, to reach the extent of space surveyed by the eye through the telescope, and yet the supposition that heaven was still _far out beyond_; the mind of faith has ever been bewildered as to the locality of the place, and of the time, or period of eternity required to reach it. And yet it was right and proper that Christians should hold firm to faith in God; that He _had_ provided a place of happiness for his people, and also provided the necessary agencies for transporting them thither. But now, when we consider that every blessing vouchsafed to man is derived from heaven, or the Sun--which is God's agency--when we have contemplated the nature of God's manifestations in the bestowment of his blessings, and visitations of his judgments; when we see how soon, at His bidding, His messengers can descend from heaven to earth to execute His commands, and the daily intimate relations in ancient times between His angels residing in heaven, and His prophets and people on earth; how instantaneously they were present when emergency demanded--for when "Daniel bowed, and his prayer went up to heaven, the angel Gabriel came with the answer from God while he was still on his knees, and yet speaking,"--and accepting the hypothesis we have laid, that our heaven is the vast globe descried by Astronomers within that encircling photosphere of ethereal fire, which is denominated the "Sun," our veiled faith of the past takes a sudden bound and lights upon--an almost _fully revealed reality_; we can now partially comprehend the mode, and short space of time required for the transit of our immortal spirits to that heavenly world. It is reasonable to suppose that spirit can pass with the velocity of electricity, and travelling thus, we have seen that to reach that world within the Sun, will require but about _five minutes_. Well hath the apostle said, "to be absent from the body, is to be present with the Lord." There are fixed laws, and a certain _reality_, in all things pertaining unto Jehovah and His vast creations throughout His own Universe, and it is not unreasonable to suppose that he has designed that we should comprehend His laws relating to us, and thereby understand His own plain revelations. We therefore believe that reason, founded upon revelations, sustains our hypothesis, as to the location of heaven--as also of hell--and that the Spirit of God is--in some of its offices--as _fire_. And we cannot doubt but that, henceforth, these views will be sustained by the intelligence of the world; and that still more of seeming mystery will be comprehended, and new light opened to the mind upon the subject, while all will tend to the glory of God, and the salvation of the human family. _CERTAINTY OF A RESURRECTION._ St. Paul, the apostle of the Gentiles, says: "_If in this life only we have hope in Christ, we are of all men most miserable._" No wonder that he came to such conclusion, when he knew that kings, rulers, and the populace were overwhelmingly against the few disciples and followers of the Lord Jesus Christ, and that persecutions, bonds, imprisonment, and even violent death were in store for many of them. But hear him again: "Since by man came death, by man came also the resurrection from the dead. The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death. "Now I say, brethren, that flesh and blood cannot inherit the kingdom of God. Behold, I show you a mystery; we shall not all sleep, but we shall all be changed in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trump; for the trumpet shall sound, and the dead shall be raised incorruptible, and we shall be changed. For this corruption must put on incorruption, and this mortal must put on immortality. Death shall be swallowed up in victory. Thanks be to God, which giveth us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ." That there will be a resurrection of our spiritual bodies, is plainly taught in the Old and in the New Testament scriptures. We have already shown this conclusively in our opening chapter on "The Immortality of the Soul, and a future State of Existence." But had doubts remained in the minds of any, we think St. Paul--as quoted above--removes them, and sets the matter at rest. St. John, the revelator, tells us that while in the spirit, the scene of the judgment was brought before his vision. He says: "And I saw the dead, small and great, stand before God, and the books were opened, and the dead were judged out of those things which were written in the books, according to their works." Now we understand that this general judgment will be at the close of the time allotted to this world. Whether that period is far remote or near at hand, no one knoweth save God himself; "no, not even the angels of heaven." But as to that time, it matters not, so far as salvation and a condition of happiness to the righteous is concerned, nor to the wicked, as regards future punishment. Revelations and the Word of God establish the fact that as soon as the soul, or spirit leaves the body, it enters upon its future and final condition, whether of happiness or misery, "Lazarus died, and was carried by the angels to Abraham's bosom. The rich man also died and was buried, and in hell he lifted up his eyes, being in torment." The Saviour, while suspended upon the cross, manifested His pardoning and saving power to the thief, forgave his sins, accepted him, and said: "To-day shalt thou be with me in Paradise." Under the circumstances--the extreme sufferings and agonies the Saviour was enduring at the time--some have cavilled at this exhibition of grace and pardoning mercy to the dying thief. Let it be remembered, His mission was to save sinners. And that it is written, "Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be saved." Here is a plain exhibition of the possibility, and plan of salvation to _all_. This thief had sinned; and had also violated the laws of his country, and in rebuking his fellow culprit in crime--who had reviled the Saviour--he acknowledged his own guilt by saying, "this man suffereth innocently; yet we are guilty, and justly deserve our punishment." Indeed, he seemed to be the _first_ to comprehend Christ's kingdom, and the plan of salvation through faith in Him. By faith, he grasped the hope, then springing from the Cross whereon the Saviour hung, and penitently cried unto the Redeemer of the world, "Lord, remember me when Thou comest into Thy kingdom." See this flash of light in the midst of spiritual darkness, dismay, and surrounding gloom--even the light of immortality and eternal life! All the followers had forsaken the dying Redeemer, and those who had been his acknowledged disciples were fleeing in dismay, and even Peter denied his Lord and Master with an oath. The hope of the world's deliverance; through the Messiah, seemed lost. Yet here was one--even a poor dying thief--whose faith penetrated the veil, and _he_ saw that Christ's kingdom was not of this world. He believed on the Lord Jesus Christ, and the promise made to all who believe in Him; with a heart unto righteousness, was vouchsafed to him. We look upon this as the strongest exhibition of faith the world had ever yet known. And we think the evidence conclusive, that as soon as the soul leaves the body--this tenement of clay--it enters at once upon its future condition of happiness, or of misery. Of the certainty of the final resurrection of our bodies--changed and transformed into spiritual bodies--and of a general judgment, the Scripture revelations are plain and conclusive. May we not therefore, for a few moments, contemplate the eventful, and, to some, the pleasant, yet to others the startling scene? That the bodies of some who lived on this earth have already undergone this great, and to us mysterious change of "corruption putting on incorruption," and "mortal putting on immortality," we cannot doubt. This seems manifest in the case of Elijah, and so also, as seems evident, with Moses. And it will be remembered that these two appeared in their heavenly vestments; bright and shining, and stood with the Saviour when he was transfigured on the Mount. So also at the time of the crucifixion of the Son of God. When, at the last moment of his expiring agony he cried to his Father, with a loud voice, and gave up the ghost; the earth did quake, and the rocks were rent, and the graves were opened, "and many bodies of the Saints that slept arose." And to make this--seeming mystery--more clear to those He had commissioned to preach His everlasting gospel--the power of which should be the resurrection from the dead--the Saviour himself, after His body had risen from the grave, appeared unto them--His disciples--and thus gave them a _visible manifestation_ of this wondrous truth, and re-commissioned them to go forth into all the world and proclaim _his own resurrection_, and that by repentance and faith all might come to a _resurrection of life_. _THE RESURRECTION._ Therefore, behold, the time cometh when "all that are in their graves, shall hear His voice"--even the voice of God--and the angel shall sound the trumpet, and its tones of melody and the voice of love will move earth and seas, from centre to circumference, and awake into immortal life the decayed bodies and mouldering dust of His sleeping children. "For the dead in Christ shall rise first," and "blessed are they who have part in the first resurrection, for on such the second death hath no power." "They shall have a right to the tree of life." See the myriads of sepulchres and graves opening, and saints rising in the light of the "glory of God," and millions of the sheeted dead--who have slept beneath the bosom of "deep blue seas;" in the depths of oceans, or were swept away by floods and flowing rivers--rising and riding in triumph upon the swelling, bright-crested waves which sparkle in the resplendent glory-light of heaven. "See these all arrayed in white, Brighter than the noon-day sun." These come forth at their Creator's call, and now at His bidding, the happy reunion of the long separated partners--souls and bodies--takes place, and the vast realm resounds with shouts of triumph and songs of praise. While the "_Morning Stars_" who sang the _pean_ of Creation, and the angelic host--who celebrated in the hill-country of Judea, the advent of the Saviour on earth to ransom fallen man--join in melody and again swell the loud anthem, "GLORY TO GOD IN THE HIGHEST!" Then shall be repeated the saying which was written, "O death, where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory?" "Thanks be to God who giveth us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ." And, ascending again with their resurrected glorified bodies, the voice of the archangel Gabriel--who sounded their resurrection trumpet--will be heard from the portal of heaven, throughout the vast domain. BEHOLD THEY COME! We would fain close this chapter with these delightful reflections, and leave the minds of all free from fearful apprehensions, and happy in the contemplation of a future resurrection to the enjoyment of a blissful immortality and eternal life. But the Laws of God are stern and inflexible in their requirements; His judgments sure; His revelations plain, and all are in duty bound to contemplate them. We have told you that at His _call_ "the righteous shall come forth to a resurrection of life." And now we have to record the fact that--at His _command_--"the wicked shall come forth to a resurrection of damnation." To contemplate or depict the scene startles the mind, and baffles and beggars the human intellect. We fancy a death-like silence prevails throughout the earth and seas, and the vast domain of Heaven. Songs of triumph, and shouts of joy, of both saints and angels, have ceased for one hour of eternity. The Judge ascends His throne, from which to issue His command. The four and twenty Elders remove their glittering crowns of gold, and bow before Him. Moses and Elijah, and all the prophets, apostles, and martyrs are there. There the redeemed of the Lord--whom no man can number--are assembled with legions of angels. All bow before the Lord, and "there is silence in Heaven." Hark! the command was given! The voice of the final judgment-trumpet; in thunder tones, waxes louder and louder! and seems to shake heaven itself, with its surrounding universe of worlds. It is the trumpet-voice of the "WRATH OF GOD" summoning the wicked of a sin-cursed world, to arise and come to judgment. See! the Earth is convulsed from the centre to its circumference, and is "rocking to and fro, as a drunken man." Graves are opening on every hand, and from all the Earth, from deep dark seas and oceans' depths, behold the pale, _ghastly_ multitudes coming forth, filled with terror and dismay. Mountains are sinking, and valleys rising, like surgings of contending billows; and their rocky foundations, though ten thousand feet deep, are breaking into fragments! A tempest of God's fiery indignation is smiting the Earth! Hear the muttering thunders of the judgment storm! see the dread lightnings flashing amidst the surrounding gloom! The internal magazine-fires of the Earth are belching forth their molten lava, which is lifting the deep foundations of seas and oceans into mountain-peaks, and rolling _fiery billows_. See! behold! the Universal conflagration of the world! seas, oceans, and all the Earth, one vast sheet of _flame_. While the angel (which John saw) "_standing in the Sun_" calls in thunder tones, ARISE YE DEAD AND COME TO JUDGMENT! And then swears by Him, that liveth forever and ever, "TIME SHALL BE NO LONGER." The unnumbered millions of resurrected bodies of the wicked would fain refuse a reunion with their long lost souls, and fall back and be consumed or annihilated by the raging elements. But now, for the wicked there is no place of safety. They refused the refuge once freely offered them in the "cleft side of the Redeemer," and trifled away their days of grace, and now the stern reality of the threatened judgment is upon them. Their souls, perhaps, have already suffered for thousands of years in fiery torments, and now death and hell give up their dead to a reunion, that all may receive their final sentence from the "Judge of quick and dead" to depart and "dwell in everlasting burnings." In their direful extremity they would fain "flee from the presence of God." Hear them calling upon the fiery whirlwind-tempest of rocks, and moving mountains "to fall on them, and hide them from the face of Him that sitteth on the Throne, and from the wrath of the Lamb," and crying aloud, "BEHOLD! THE GREAT DAY OF HIS WRATH HAS COME; WHO SHALL BE ABLE TO STAND?" Yet these fragments of a convulsed and dismembered universe are restrained from performing such office of mercy, and by the Word--which created them--are hurled back into the raging chaotic storm, to "melt with fervent heat" and mingle with the elements in the convulsive throes of a _wrecked world_, which is being consumed by the "SPIRIT-FIRES" OF JEHOVAH'S WRATH. "And the sea gave up the dead which were in it, and death and hell delivered up the dead which were in them; and I saw the dead small and great stand before God, and they were judged according to their works. And death and hell were cast into the lake of fire. This is the second death. And whosoever was not found written in the book of life, was cast into the lake of fire; and the same shall drink of the wine of the wrath of God, which is poured out without mixture into the cup of His indignation. And I saw an angel standing in the Sun. And the fourth angel poured out his vial upon the Sun, and power was given unto him to scorch men with fire; and men were scorched with great heat. And they shall be tormented with fire and brimstone in the presence of the holy angels, and in the presence of the Lamb, and the smoke of their torment ascendeth up forever and ever." _A SERIOUS CONTEMPLATION._ The contemplation of the final judgment, and the sentence to be passed upon the wicked, is truly a solemn one, and should startle every mind, But oh, how few, comparatively, seem to stop and reflect upon this momentous subject? And yet _all_ are rapidly hastening on to their final doom. Few are aware of the vast numbers that are passing from time into eternity--even each year, each month, each day each hour, or each minute. We will here state the numbers, as well ascertained, or approximated, by the ablest staticians of the world. They tell us there is one death for every second of time, 60 every minute; 3,600 every hour; 84,400 every day; 2,595,000 every month; 31,140,000 every year, and a number equal to the entire population of the globe, _viz._: _one thousand millions_ every thirty years. And we are forced to the conclusion, that by far the larger portion of adults pass away without any conscious knowledge of the plan of salvation, or a tenable hope of heaven. Reader, stop and reflect. No matter what your age, your condition of health, or in life, you, too, must soon know the realities of your future; your eternal state of existence. We have heard the remark from the ungodly, that if they failed to reach heaven, they would, at least, "be with a large crowd." Yes, we have no doubt of it. For we read of "legions of devils," and there will also be legions from _earth_ to be tormented by them. Now we appeal to the reason of every intelligent mind, can you expect to enjoy happiness in your eternal existence, amid devouring flames? We learn that devils are fallen angels. Once they enjoyed happiness in that heavenly world, and were, doubtless, God's messengers; oft sent to different regions of His empire to do His pleasure. Yet viewing the grandeur and glory of God, it appears that the great Dragon--who had the control of many angels--enlisted them to sustain him in some unlawful usurpation. This was resisted by Michael and his angels, "and there was war in heaven." Michael and his angels prevailed, and the great Dragon, "that old serpent called the devil, and satan, was cast out, and his angels were cast out with him;" "neither was their place found any more in heaven." These, we learn, are the wicked spirits, which go to and fro, up and down, through the earth, tempting man to sin, and to do wickedly. Satan is the prince of the powers of darkness, and he and his minions are ever arrayed against the prince of life and salvation. And man as a free moral agent--having life and death set before him--is left the free choice as to whom he will serve. If your choice be the God who created all things by the word of His power, and whose glory is the light of eternal day, serve Him. But if Baal, the prince of darkness, whose reign is terror and death, then serve him. "Ye cannot serve two masters at once." Remember! When death shall come and claim you for its victim, with the cessation of mortal life, there is cessation of all the sensations and faculties of your _human nature_. You will not be moved upon to the enjoyment of pleasure by human passions or desires. These, as realized here, will forever cease, and the spirit can no more be controlled by flesh and blood, nor by human desires. Yet that immortal principle--the soul--will be susceptible of ineffable happiness, or of intense misery. Will it be any comfort or pleasure to you to know that others are, like yourself, doomed to suffer eternal torments? to witness their agonies, and hear their wailings in that pandemonium of the lost? Think for a moment, of the rich man--Dives--who realized those torments. No hope for him in the future; his day of probation had passed; his eternal state was fixed; yet he prayed Father Abraham to send Lazarus back to this world, to warn his five brethren, lest they also should come to that place of torment. Remember, that as death leaves the body, so judgment finds the soul, for the prophet has warned you that, "There is no work, nor device, nor knowledge, nor wisdom in the grave whither thou goest." _THE FINAL JUDGMENT._ "_The Lord shall endure forever, he hath prepared his throne for judgment." "We shall all stand before the judgment-seat of Christ." "Then every one of us shall give an account of himself to God."_ _"And I saw the dead, small and great, stand before God; and the books were opened, * * * and the dead were judged out of those things which were written in the books, according to their works."_ _"Then shall the king say unto them on his right hand: Come, ye blessed of my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world;" * * * "an entrance shall be administered unto you abundantly;" * * * "enter ye in through the gates into the city;" * * * "enter thou into the joy of thy Lord."_ _"Then shall he say also unto them on his left hand: Depart from me, ye cursed, into everlasting fire, prepared for the devil and his angels." "These shall go into everlasting punishment, but the righteous into life eternal."_ _A HOME IN HEAVEN._ Our pilgrimage on earth is one of unrest, is one of toil, sorrow, and affliction. Here we have no abiding place, "no continuing city." Our "days on earth are few, and are full of trouble." There is no permanency here. From the time of the first infant breath and short unconscious slumber on a mother's bosom to the latest hour and moment of life, we are ever restless and moving onward, and endure all the disquietude and sufferings of mind and body incident to our mortal existence. The original sin of our first parents, blighted all hope of permanence or enduring happiness on this earth. At the time of their fall, God pronounced as to our existence here, saying: "Cursed is the ground for thy sake; in sorrow shalt thou eat of it all the days of thy life; thorns and thistles shall it bring forth to thee. In the sweat of thy face shalt thou eat bread till thou return to the ground; for out of it wast thou taken: dust thou art and unto dust shalt thou return." "And the spirit shall return to God who gave it." Yet to the true and faithful followers of the blessed Redeemer--who ransomed the world by the pouring out of His own blood, and opened up a way whereby we may escape the further penalties of a violated law--rest will come by-and-by. "There is rest for the weary," and mansions prepared for them in the "City of God," in that better world. Remember, the Saviour said: "I go to prepare a place for you, that where I am there ye may also be. To him that overcometh will I give to eat of the tree of life, which is in the midst of the Paradise of God. The same shall be clothed in white raiment; and I will not blot out his name out of the book of life, but I will confess his name before my Father and before his angels. He that overcometh shall inherit all things, and I will be his God, and he shall be my son." "WHOSOEVER WILL, LET HIM COME." "I will give unto him that is athirst of the fountain of the _water of life_ freely." "THEY SHALL LIVE FOR EVER AND EVER." There the redeemed of the Lord shall, with their blessed Saviour, "inherit the kingdom," where the glory of God illumines the "city," and throws its radiance over all the vast realm. O what a delightful place for a permanent "_Home!_" How singularly different it contrasts with our residence on earth. Here we have to endure toil, pain, and death; there, rest, happiness, and eternal life. See here the care-worn, weary husband, toiling and striving against contending billows and waves of misfortune, to earn a support for a helpless, dependent family; perhaps his strivings are the more difficult because of pain of body or anguish of mind. Disease in some form may be preying upon his vitality, even through long years of existence, and he knows that it will eventually conquer, and consign him to his grave. Or, if bodily health prevails, the mind may be tortured and distracted at witnessing the sufferings of a beloved wife, or children, as one by one they are smitten down or snatched away by death; or still more poignant the grief and anguish he endures because of the alienation of affections, or family tumults, of strifes and contentions. See that wife and mother lingering by the bedside of a devoted, yet now dying husband, or clasping to her tortured and heaving bosom the lifeless form of a beloved child, and yet powerless to save the one or call back the other. These are the heart-struggling in the tempest of life. Soon they will be over. A few years more, at most, and then all will be still; this mortality will be silent in the grave. But of that "home in heaven." "Glorious things are spoken of thee, O City of God." There love, peace, and joy forever reigns. There is the "full fruition" and realization of "the hope of the glory of God." There "their lines have fallen to them in pleasant places." There they realize "fulness of joy," and their heritage "pleasures for evermore." There they find "that inheritance which is incorruptible, undefiled, and that fadeth not away." There they have a home in an enduring city, whose foundations are eternal. There the palms of victory; and crowns of glory. There they walk the gold-paved streets of the city, or wander at pleasure in the 'Garden of the Lord,' or amidst forests green, or pleasant groves. There the crystal fountains play their sparkling waters in the light of eternal day, and the "river of life" flows "from beneath the throne of God," onward and onward, meandering through, and encircling the vast realm of that heavenly empire. There perennial spring, and never-fading flowers. There old age and decrepitude are never known, but all clothed upon with "garments of righteousness," will live and dwell in perpetual immortal youth, through the ever-recurring cycles of endless eternity. Angels of God are there. The Prophets, Apostles, and Martyrs are there; ministers of God are there; some of our kindred friends are there; others of them will _soon_ be there. The redeemed of earth, who were accepted of the Lord are there, and the remainder of the "ransomed hosts," are now pressing on, or coming after, and _will all be there_, and form an innumerable company which no one can number, each can form pleasant associations there, never to be broken up, "For nothing shall disturb in all the holy mountains." Reader, are you striving for that HAPPY HOME? _CONCLUSIVE AND CONCLUDING ARGUMENT._ The Sun is held by all Philosophers and Astronomers to be the central pivot of the solar system, and the _loadstone power of attraction_, which governs, steadies, and controls all its surrounding planet-worlds in their orbits. So great is its power of attraction, that a counter-balancing force was necessary to keep the machinery of Nature in order. This force is produced by the attracting power of the various planet-worlds, placed in proper positions in surrounding space, and thus furnishing the _centrifugal_, to counterbalance the _centripetal_ force _ascribed_ to the Sun, by which means our earth, and the other planets, are kept whirling in their elliptical orbits, and thus each prevented from being drawn by the superior centripetal or attracting power of that globe into certain destruction by the fires of the _Sun_. This is the hypothesis, we believe, of every Philosopher and Astronomer of the present day. Now let us examine this hypothesis, and see if it does not foreshadow and sustain our own. In the first place, it is _true_ that the _"loadstone power of attraction" is there_: but it is _within_ what all denominate the SUN, and by _this_ the surrounding planets are controlled. But this power _is not the Sun_. For what all denominate the Sun, is that which gives out light and heat. The Sun is _fire_, _heat_, and _brightness_ or light. Fire, or heat, is _ethereal_; has no such power of attraction: but on the contrary, is repelling and dissipating. There is no solid substance in fire; it is an invisible agency--save when it is concentrated. It would be an unreasonable hypothesis to conclude that the fires of the Sun were fed on combustible material. The Sun may have been just the same as it is now, for untold _billions of years_--possibly from all eternity--and God, by His Word has revealed the fact that it will continue forever--even as long as His throne. Hence, if produced by combustion, its material would be constantly wasting away, and, as Prof. Olmsted says, "the products of combustion would obscure its light." Therefore, as there is no tangible source, and all agree that God Himself was, and still is its source, we hold that our hypothesis, that it is a fixed volume of _Photospheric-ethereal_, or _spirit-fire_, is correct. That it is one of Jehovah's attributes; ever existing and performing its offices in creative and enduring Nature; never increasing nor diminishing. Now, this being the only reasonable, and--as we believe--correct hypothesis, of the origin, nature, and element of the _Sun_--the Sun being the brightness we see in looking at it--_where_ and _what is the loadstone power of attraction_, which reaches out millions of miles into space, and controls vast worlds, steadying each in its own orbital path, while they are flying round at the rate of from fifty thousand, to one hundred thousand miles an hour? We think the answer plain, and that all can comprehend it. This Earth is a solid body, and _all such_ possess, within themselves, the power of attraction. Therefore, the laws of Nature reveal the fact to us, that _the great central and controlling power of attraction_ attributed to the _Sun_, is the vast INNER GLOBE we have been contemplating; a globe, or world, more than a million times the size of this Earth. Leading Astronomers have agreed on the existence of such a body within; and far separated--by a non-luminous atmosphere or void--from the outer _photosphere of ethereal fire_. That globe we hold is--_beyond a doubt_--the "HEAVENLY WORLD" spoken of throughout the Holy Scriptures, and is the final and eternal home of the righteous. We see wisdom displayed, and find law and order in every thing we comprehend which pertains to God and Nature. Phenomena, which for long ages were mysteries, are now, through the lights of science, being fully comprehended and made plain to all. And, by reasoning from analogy, new arts and sciences are comprehended, while each additional light gained flashes upon some other hidden mystery, and reveals in it nothing but _law_ and _order_, in all its arrangements. The progress made of late in the arts and sciences is wonderful indeed; yet this is only the progress of the mind of man, and the enlightenment of his intellect. And we believe that the next decade of years will develop _facts_ which might startle the minds of the wisest of to-day to contemplate. That vast world--surrounded by the Sun--controls this Earth and its other surrounding planets. From that world, and Sun--in its offices--we derive every blessing while on Earth, and we cannot doubt but that when we find our future, IT WILL BE THERE. The righteous to dwell _within_ where, we have shown you, the Sun does not or cannot shine; but where the _glory of God_ is the light of the holy place, and yet we have the evidence that one of the offices of the _Sun_ will be the punishment of the wicked who cannot enter that HEAVENLY WORLD. "_Whoso is wise will observe these things._" Psalms, cvii. _WILL ALL TAKE HEED?_ * * * * * * Gentle reader, we are about to take our leave of you. We have penned the lines which compose this volume at short intervals obtained recently from a laborious professional life. Our mind has been duly impressed with the correctness of the views we have advanced. Indeed, to disbelieve them, would seem to disbelieve Divine revelations, and let the mind become again shrouded with impenetrable mystery in regard to the place of our future habitation, and of the manner and mode of the spirit's transit thither after the death of the body. All should remember that they will be held accountable for the light and knowledge they receive. We feel fully assured that our hypothesis as to the location of Heaven--as also that of Hell--is well founded and fully sustained by God's own revelations, both as recorded in the Bible, and as seen in visible nature. As to the "Spirit of God as fire," we have presented such evidence as Divine revelations have furnished us, and only added to these such as _reason_, as the perceptive faculties of all, do or may comprehend, and we do not see wherein the _Christian World_ can found any objections to our conclusions. That there might be culled from the Bible a few passages which may seem not to reflect our views is natural, when we consider how it is interspersed with the views and versions of various historical writers in the chronicling of events. But we believe Divine revelations furnish sufficient _positive evidence_ to sustain us; such evidence as the _reason_ of every enlightened and reflecting mind will comprehend and approve. We believe this knowledge should--nay, doubtless, _will_--have a salutary and beneficial effect upon the minds and hearts of all. We now leave all as a _personal matter with you_. That you _will have a future_ you cannot doubt. We therefore beseech you to remember "that God will not be mocked" with impunity; neither can he be deceived. "_For whatsoever a man soweth, that shall he also reap. He that soweth to the flesh, shall of the flesh reap corruption; but he that soweth to the spirit shall of the spirit reap life everlasting._" Hear the Preacher of God (Eccl. xii. 13, 14): "_Let us hear the conclusion of the whole matter: Fear God and keep His commandments; for this is the whole duty of man. For God shall bring every work into judgment, with every secret thing, whether it be good, or whether it be evil._" * * * * * APPEAL TO CHRISTIAN MINISTERS. It might reasonably be expected that as we have advanced a new hypothesis as to the location of _Heaven_, and also of _Hell_, that we should also give our views as to what we deem the correct faith and principles of the _true Christian Religion_. You will see in our "_Preface_" that we have not designed to make our book sectarian in behalf of any one of the different Protestant organizations. And, not being a minister of the Gospel, we leave the great and important work of thus directing the mind to those whose rightful mission it is to instruct. True, our views upon this subject are foreshadowed in these pages, but we believe the time has now come when there should be a _general review_ by all leading Divines. That they should take under consideration all new lights afforded by the sciences--especially the science of Astronomy--and bring these to bear with philosophical reason upon Divine Revelations and Bible truths; and thereby comprehend more fully the nature of God, and his requirements of man in order to salvation. We think that by such action on their part, that most, even if not all of the minor sectarian differences of opinion can be removed, and that all can unite as one great Family of the Church of God on Earth; and that mysteries which have hitherto shrouded the minds of the masses--as to the necessary faith and practice in a true religion--may thereby be removed, and all the world of mankind be brought to a saving knowledge of the truth, and "know the Lord, whom to know aright is Eternal Life." We know that, at first thought, this may seem to be a great undertaking; and, however desirable, some may entertain doubts as to its accomplishment, and therefore hesitate to move in the matter; yet we believe that it can, and, sooner or later, will be accomplished, and that the final results will prove worthy the life efforts of every Christian minister on this Earth. Neither ministers, their flocks, nor the entire human family now on the Earth, have long to live, nor time to delay in this great matter. One decade of _ten_ short years, and about _one third of all now living_ will have passed away, while _thirty years_ will close the drama of life with _one thousand millions_, or most of the present inhabitants of this globe, and all must find their future state of existence. Many of us can look back over thirty years past, and realize that the time has been _short_. So, also, will be the few remaining years allotted to any of us. Therefore, it becomes all to heed well the warning voice of Him who hath said: "_Whatsoever thy hand findeth to do, do it with thy might; for there is no work, nor device, nor knowledge, nor wisdom, in the grave, whither thou goest._" All the different church organizations _cannot be right_ in their present faith and practice, however lenient they may profess to be toward each other, or even _hope_ that such is the case. This were impossible. God has designed to establish _one true universal Church_ on this Earth, and HE WILL DO IT, though it should sweep away every such organization now in existence, and even obliterate their every land-mark. We do not say that there is not now in each, more or less, of the germ of _truth_, nor that from these scattered fragments may not yet be gathered that which shall constitute the body and life of the whole. There may be a struggle first with the powers of darkness, yet this GREAT CHURCH WILL BE ESTABLISHED AND PREVAIL. The lights of true science, which are revealing more fully God's own revelations, we believe, will _force_ a change to a more _universal system of religion_. The mind will comprehend more of the Great Jehovah, and of His will and plan of salvation. Therefore, we believe it to be the duty of all Christian ministers to move in this matter. They should investigate and comprehend all the new lights afforded them, and thereby be enabled to make plain the revelations of God; remove all mystery; establish His Eternal Truth, and teach all minds and hearts to "look up through Nature to Nature's God." This will not be the work of only a day, or a week, nor yet of any one individual; but the work of _time_, with the _united efforts_ of leading minds of the age, and we hope that its commencement will not long be delayed. It must be acknowledged that the _plans_ of salvation, as now taught by the many different Protestant Church organizations, are all, more or less, mystery to the outside world. Hence, _Infidelity_ has in this highly colored reasons--at least to sustain their assertions against the _truth_ of the _Christian religion_, and so also have the JEWS. This fact no one can reasonably deny. The mind of man--his thinking, _reasoning_ faculty--must be convinced by evidence before he can be brought to believe, and in this great and important matter he _must believe_ before he will act. The _Mind_ must be left free and _untrammelled_, and governed only by _enlightened reason_. This should be the course pursued by all teaching ministers. LIGHT, LIBERTY, and ETERNAL LIFE should be the watchwords of those who stand upon the "Walls of Zion!" The mind must be taught to _love_ God in all His Immaculate perfections, and to serve Him through that love which "_casteth out all fear_." St. Paul says, "_God hath not given us the spirit of fear; but of power, and of_ LOVE _and of a sound mind._" John tells us, "_There is no fear in love; but perfect love casteth out all fear; because fear hath torment. He that feareth is not made perfect in love._" And yet in PERFECT LOVE, we shall _always_ have the "fear of God before our eyes;" we shall ever fear to offend Him, and thereby fulfil every commandment given us _to_ fear Him. But "HE THAT DWELLETH IN GOD, DWELLETH IN LOVE." We believe that if the Christian ministry throughout would properly present the claims of God to the _love_ of the human heart, there would soon be a turning of the masses to Him, such as has never been witnessed since the beginning of the world. That by the teachings of so many different creeds, their widely different faith and doctrines, the mind of man in general has become bewildered; and that mystery, deep, dark, almost impenetrable, hangs--more or less--over all, we cannot deny. See the numerous different Church organizations, founded and presided over by men of intellect and learning; each claiming to be established by _Scriptural authority!_ and yet in their faith and teachings, all conflicting, more or less, with each other. We cannot doubt the honesty and sincerity of these ministers, nor of their church members; yet may not many of them be "blind leaders of the blind?" To each of these, all other organizations, faith, and doctrine seem a mystery; and if a mystery to those who are striving after light and truth in the way of life and salvation, is it not far more of mystery to those outside, who have not been educated into any system of religious belief? The truth is, _enlightened reason_ condemns this exhibition as the "Church of God," for it has become "a stumbling block" in the road to truth and the way of salvation. When we go to the founders and leaders of these different organizations, and ask, why all these conflicting elements? the majority of them will answer, remember that Christ hath said, "I am the vine, ye are the branches," and add a garbled quotation from the writings of St. Paul, "_Great is the mystery of godliness_." Now there is but one _true vine_, and all its branches will bring forth the same "good fruits of righteousness" by which all shall be known. And as to _mystery_, let us see what the great apostle of the Gentiles did say. "_And without controversy great is the mystery of godliness; God was manifested in the flesh, justified in the_ _Spirit, seen of angels; preached unto the Gentiles, believed on in the world, and received up into glory._" There we have all of it, and, taken together, it explains itself to every intelligent mind, and thus, properly comprehended, removes _all mystery_, and implies the necessary faith and plan of salvation. FORESHADOWINGS. The "signs of the times" are pregnant with coming and wonderful events. The rapid progress of mind, the developments through the sciences--which are now throwing flood-lights upon Divine revelations, and giving to the enlightened world a more comprehensive knowledge of the Great Jehovah, and of His wonderful works--are all potent with argument of the necessity that the effort for a UNITED CHURCH should speedily be made. A partial comprehension of these wonderful developments, without further aids, may tend to throw doubt and suspicion upon the minds of many, as to whether or not any of the Christian organizations have comprehended the true plan of salvation. Whilst a divided church, a divided ministry, and their opposite teachings can but tend to strengthen such doubts, bewilder the mind, and lead to _Infidelity_. Now it rests with leading spirits and teachers of _every_ Christian denomination--whether _Protestant_ or _Catholic_--to say whether this advance shall be made in behalf of _true religion_: the Church of God, and the salvation of souls, or in the interest of Satan, the opposing enemy; whether this advance shall be true _Christianity_, or _Infidelity_; whether the upbuilding of the Kingdom of Christ, and hastening the time when He shall reign in the hearts of all; or, by indifference and default, permitting the upbuilding of _Babylon_, and the reseating of the "SCARLET WOMAN," _and_ thus tenfold intensifying the great and _final struggle_. There is a _true philosophy_ in religion, and by instructing the mind to comprehend this, the final happy results will ensue. We often hear ministers praying for the time to come "when the world shall be converted to God; when all shall know Him from the least unto the greatest." They claim the promise that such a time _will come_, and yet can but see that wickedness is gaining ground, and that within their church organizations they do not number _one third of the population_--even in what are denominated Christian countries, nor do they keep pace with the increase of population, and yet they seem contented with their "little flocks." Ye ministers of the "LIVING GOD," if ye have come to "Mount Zion" by faith and prayer, and "holy living," we call upon you to unite your efforts in the spirit of _brotherly love_ and CHRISTIAN UNITY, and show to a "perishing world" that you are in _earnest_ in your Master's cause, and that you desire the salvation of the _whole human family_, else He may say to you, "_I will come quickly, and will remove thy candlestick out of his place._" * * * * * In regard to the theory we have advanced as to the location of Heaven, we leave you, and all, to examine the revelations of God through the lights of science; Nature around you, and with _reason_ bearing upon the fact that God, the Great Jehovah, the Creator of all, though a _Spirit_, is not a _myth_; and that reality, law, order, and system universally prevail throughout all His works, and with these He governs His Universe. God's own revelations, the lights afforded through the sciences, Nature around us, true philosophy and reason, all confirm our hypothesis. Cut loose now from this, and we can anchor nowhere, save in a blind incomprehensible faith, ever floating and drifting as in a _sea of ether_, and surrounded by impenetrable _mystery_ and _gloom_. All hold and teach that the spirit, when it leaves the body, flies away from _mortality_ and Earth, and goes to the place prepared for it by its Creator. The celerity with which spirit moves we do not now know, but the reality and law of its flight does exist, and this by God's own arrangement and established agency in Nature. That such agency is continually with us, and ready at all times for the use of disembodied spirit, we cannot doubt--nay, possibly its principle or element is _in_ and _of_ us, from the first moment of our existence, through all subsequent time, and will continue to all eternity to come. The _blood_ is the life of man, its element or stimulæ of life is _electricity_, let this but escape from the blood, and with it the soul or spirit has fled, and the body is left to moulder back to dust. We find electricity to be a principle of _immateriality_; an element of _fire_, which pervades all things, in a greater or less degree, not only solids and fluids, but also atmosphere or air. Now let us consider this element which God has permitted man to comprehend as existing in nature, and yet veils it from our sight, and, although he permits us to use it for beneficial purposes, yet we can never see or comprehend more than its _effects_, for, in itself, it is _ethereal_ and no mortal eye can behold it. Man has not only been permitted to comprehend that the principle of electricity does exist in Nature, but also to measure, by time, its rapid flight. Thus, with proper appliances, this Earth can be belted with it in about _one tenth_ part of a second of time. It would seem to almost annihilate time, and space, as its flight is nearly 300,000 miles a second--being more than one third swifter than _light_. In preceding pages, we have dwelt upon the distance of our Earth from the Sun, and also distances to various planets, and to some of the fixed stars, and _nebulæ_, far away in sidereal regions. We have given you the conclusions of the most scientific Astronomers throughout the world. Their measurement of distances by light have been shown to approximate correctness, and the truth of their deductions we cannot doubt. They have explored regions so far remote, that it is rendered certain that it has required _light several hundred thousand years_ from the time it left its native Sun, to reach our Earth, and that these rays travelling from thence, are now successively arriving and beaming upon the eye when it is placed to the telescope. Indeed, from one cluster of suns, or nebulæ, beyond the "milky way," it is computed that the light derived from thence has been 700,000 years in transit, although travelling at the rate of 192,000 miles a second. Now all these facts are astounding, and must impress every reflecting mind with force. All can see that Astronomers, by the aid of that wonderful gift of God to man--the telescope--have looked abroad, and have penetrated and surveyed with the eye space far remote in sidereal regions, to the extent of which it would require 300,000 years for _electricity_ to reach at a flight of 300,000 miles a second, and yet they have not discovered any thing greatly different from our own planetary system, nor any object or seeming phenomenon they could denominate _heaven_. Without a solution of these facts, is not the mind bewildered and _lost_ in the hazy contemplation? If heaven is still _far out beyond_, what period or measure of Eternity may it requite for the spirit, or soul to reach it after leaving the body? Knowing that there is stern reality, regulated law, order, and motion in all pertaining to Jehovah, His creations and government; even the _mind of faith_ staggers, and must founder in the contemplation of conceptions so mighty and so mysterious. You have taught us to believe that heaven is a "fixed place," and has a "permanent locality," but while accepting this through faith, you have failed to give us a _permanent thought_. Therefore, notwithstanding all our hopes and desires, _mystery_ and _gloom, dark and impenetrable_, have shrouded the mind's eye of faith; leaving no light but an excited and restless _imagination_, and we call upon you to give _faith_ and _hope_ a _resting-place_ somewhere else than floating in _ethereal regions_, and wandering about with _blind chance through illimitable space_. Our hypothesis locates heaven just where _we believe it is_, and _to it_ the spirit can ascend, on _angel-wings of electricity_, in a fraction of eternity equal to only _five minutes of time_. And, although discoveries through the lights of science directed our mind thither, and assisted its comprehension, yet we believe _Divine Revelations alone sustain our views_, and thus afford the mind a resting place where _faith_ and _hope_ can anchor, and be founded in reality, in _immutable and_ ETERNAL TRUTH. The laws of Nature, the controlling influence of that world, our perceptive faculties and _reason_, all proclaim that it must be so. Its protecting fires shield it from mortal sight, yet proclaim to us through ten thousand blessings showered upon our earth, _'tis there!_ 'TIS THERE!! * * * * * Are any ready to ask why the "_glory-light_" of that heavenly world, represented as "far above the brightness of the Sun" cannot be seen? Such inquiry must exhibit a lack of knowledge respecting the nature of God, the GREAT SPIRIT; as also of any proper conception of the immortal spirit of man. That light is _for spirit alone_, and cannot be seen by mortal eyes, and that which is darkness to us while our sight is veiled with mortality, so far as relates to that heavenly world and our future, becomes--after the death of the body--transcendent brilliancy, and the light of the "glory of God." We have abundant evidence of this fact. Remember that when the Great Jehovah made His presence manifest on Mount Sinai, although the mountain burned with fire, yet--to mortal vision--all the surroundings were filled with "thick clouds and darkness." Yea, "clouds and darkness were made His pavilion," and, to mortal eyes, "_are the habitations of His throne_." The light of the "_glory of God_" is for spirit alone, and _its_ radiance will make even the light of the _Sun_ darkness to the _spirit-eye_. It is possible that should He unveil Himself, and throw a flash of His _glory-light_ upon this world, it would in an instant of time destroy the whole race of man, and every living thing, for He hath said, "_No one shall see me and live._" We have on record evidences sustaining our views in regard to such effects, should the light and brightness of His face or glory be revealed. See the effects of the light of His glory, even in a veiled form, when the Son of God made himself manifest from heaven (that bright world we have been contemplating, wherein he is enthroned, and where all the righteous shall dwell) to Saul of Tarsus; although He did not unveil himself, yet "_a light above the brightness of the Sun at mid-day shone around, and Saul fell to the earth smitten with blindness_." Yes, this glory-light _is darkness_ to mortal eyes; and when beheld by spirit, the light of the _Sun_ may even be darkness. See again its effects upon St. John, the revelator, when, catching but a glimpse of the Son of man in the midst of the golden candlesticks, he "_fell at his feet as dead_." Ah, it is possible that all seeming _natural light_ to us, while in mortality, may become as _darkness_ to our spirit vision; and we are assured by the word of God, that none shall see the light of His glory save those who seek regeneration through LOVE and FAITH, for the wicked shall go into _outer darkness_, and dwell forever in death, while the righteous shall enter into and enjoy eternal life. Our hypothesis is a pleasing one for the contemplation of every Christian, and yet cannot interfere in the least with the doctrines of any who believe there is a heaven. And he who believeth not in either God or heaven, has lost the intellectual dignity of man in proper conceptions, and knoweth not even now "what manner of man he is." We have given something tangible upon which to fix the mind, and which will inspire hope; something of _reality_ that all may contemplate. Remember that we are not forbidden to investigate, nor yet form conclusions founded on reason; neither is it declared that we shall not _know_ the location of our future home. From all that man can comprehend of nature, _reason_ teaches him to look for and find--if not in life, _after death_--his future home somewhere in connection with our own planetary system. This system is large and grand enough to justify all our aspirations, and satisfy all our hopes and desires. The extent, grandeur, and glory of the heaven we have contemplated, will fully satisfy the immortal mind of man, even as it does the "angels of God," and its King and Ruler, and we may all consider ourselves fortunate to get there. * * * * * We have written our book, and thrown out these suggestions with purest of motives. From the first conception of the idea of heaven being where, in mind, we locate it, we have felt impressed with the correctness of our views; so much so, that it impelled us to make the effort to give them to the world, believing that in doing so we should advance the true theory which would sustain Christianity, and cause it to spread and triumph over all opposition; give "to faith that _hope_ which is an anchor to the soul," and draw the hearts and minds of all to _love_ God, and yet in that love _fear_ to offend Him. We have refrained from consulting the clergy or ministers of _any_ and every denomination in this matter, desiring simply to give our own views. We now ask of you all a prayerful and thorough examination by the evidences of Divine Revelations and all other lights afforded you; and if you discard our views as to the location of heaven, be _careful_ and _explicit_ in giving us _your hypothesis_ as to the one you are inviting us to, and _locate it_ where the _mind of reason_ can contemplate it, and where _hope_ may span the voyage _the soul must make_ to reach it after the death of the body. APPEAL TO ALL: WHETHER JEWS OR GENTILES, PROTESTANTS, CATHOLICS, INFIDELS, OR INDIFFERENT BELIEVERS. We desire the salvation of the entire human family. We believe that God has provided a way and plan of salvation by which all should gain a true and saving knowledge of Him; and we have _appealed_ to Christian ministers to unite their efforts in prayerful investigation of His revelations through all new lights afforded them, and to point out to all, the plain path of _duty_ and _safety_--but not in any wise labor under the false or mistaken belief that they can stand as _sole mediator_, or umpire, between God and the souls of men, and, at their own will or pleasure, mete out to them eternal happiness or misery. Such as do this "are blind leaders of the blind," and their doctrine a _fatal delusion_. We believe in a living, teaching ministry; and, where heart and life is fully consecrated to God and His cause, all such may feel that they are divinely called and commissioned. We hold that such a ministry should be sustained, and that all should give liberally out of their abundance, to secure them against want or contingencies which might retard or prevent their usefulness. But our appeal is now to you, in regard to your own _individual responsibility_. Each has an immortal soul, which must be saved or lost. No one, save Christ Jesus our Lord, can stand as mediator in behalf of any to insure salvation or heaven. Popes, bishops, ministers, and priests _are but men_, and are mortal like ourselves. They may, by application to study and investigation, gain light and knowledge--nay, should do it, so as to instruct us in the way of life and salvation, but further than this they cannot go. We have no evidence, neither in the Old or New Testament Scriptures, where, by intercession of _man alone_, salvation or heaven was ever obtained by an unbelieving heart. We see that, under the earlier dispensation, Moses was the chosen servant of God, and divinely commissioned as _High-Priest_ to the children of Israel. Yet when they sinned, and Jehovah's wrath was kindled against them, Moses made _direct intercession_ in their behalf, and even plead, saying: "_If thou wilt not forgive them, blot me, I pray thee, out of thy book which thou hast written._" Hear the answer of the Lord: "_Whosoever hath sinned against me, him will I blot out of my book; * * * * mine angel shall go before thee; nevertheless, in the day when I visit, I will visit their sins upon them._" Thus, although His judgments were stayed for a season, because of His covenant, yet their final execution was certain. We are assured by the Scriptures that there is "_One God_" and "_One Mediator_," and we may go to God through faith in this _One Mediator_, and that all who go thus shall obtain eternal life. We have record of the efficacy of this faith in the application of the dying thief. When he had signified his belief, hear the answer of the Saviour: "_To-day shalt thou be with me in Paradise._" Oh, how plain the plan of salvation! All nature proclaims there is a God. His revelations proclaim an eternal existence of the soul. We all know that we _must die_. However disappointed we may be in our earthly hopes or fears, yet as to the certainty of death none will be disappointed--_it is sure to come_. When the angel of death is commissioned to summon us, soon "_the pale horse and his rider_" will be at the door; then there can be no delay. "_Dust thou art, and unto dust shalt thou return._" "_And the soul shall return to God who gave it._" "_It is appointed unto men once to die, but after this the judgment._" What can you _lose_ by giving your heart to God? What may you not lose by neglecting to do it? It is _all gain_ and _no loss_. May you all yield to the gentle drawings of the spirit, which now whispers to your heart in loving tones with accents of _mercy_, and your spirits finally be gathered in the fold of angels' wings, and by them borne to the Paradise of God, where His glory is the light of eternal day. 
40929	----	Transcriber's Note: Every effort has been made to replicate this text as faithfully aspossible, including some inconsistencies of hyphenation. Some changes of spelling and punctuation have been made. They are listed at the end of the text. Italic text has been marked with _underscores_. The University of Chicago THE TRANSFORMATION OF EARLY CHRISTIANITY FROM AN ESCHATOLOGICAL TO A SOCIALIZED MOVEMENT A DISSERTATION SUBMITTED TO THE FACULTY OF THE GRADUATE SCHOOL OF ARTS AND LITERATURE IN CANDIDACY FOR THE DEGREE OF DOCTOR OF PHILOSOPHY DEPARTMENT OF CHURCH HISTORY IN THE GRADUATE DIVINITY SCHOOL BY LYFORD PATERSON EDWARDS The Collegiate Press GEORGE BANTA PUBLISHING COMPANY MENASHA, WISCONSIN 1919 CONTENTS Chapter I. Political Theories of the Early Christians 1 Chapter II. The Early Church and Property Concepts 24 Chapter III. The Early Church and the Populace 50 Chapter IV. Chiliasm and Patriotism 70 Chapter V. Chiliasm and Social Theory 83 CHAPTER I THE POLITICAL THEORIES OF THE EARLY CHRISTIANS When Christianity came into the world it found a number of different political theories already in existence. These various conflicting concepts; Hebrew, Greek and Roman, influenced Christianity in varying degrees and in varying degrees were influenced by Christianity. Christianity as such added no new ideas to the current stock of political notions. The Hebrew Christian retained his Jewish theory; as did the Greek and the Roman in perhaps a less degree. The development of the Christian conception of the state, the Church, and history generally is a process of elimination, selection, adaptation, and synthesis of the various elements of political theory current in contemporary Hebrew and pagan thought. The characteristic modern separation of Church and State, the divorce between religion and government, existed as a matter of fact in early Christianity. But it was forced upon the Christians by the historical situation. As an idea it was foreign alike to Jews and Christians, Greeks and Romans. It was contrary to the whole body of contemporary political theory. The union of Church and State in the Fourth century, which has been so deplored by many modern historians and moralists was in reality perfectly inevitable. The social mind of the whole ancient world made any other course impossible either to Christians or Pagans once Christianity had developed to the point where it was the most powerful religious force in society. The theocratic nature of Jewish thought and practice is generally recognized but the close connection of religion and government in the pagan educational system is not perhaps so much emphasized. To quote Pollock: "It costs us something to realize the full importance of philosophy to the Greek or Roman citizen who had received a liberal education. For him it combined in one whole body of doctrine all the authority and influence which nowadays are divided, not without contention, by science, philosophy, and religion in varying shares. It was not an intellectual exercise or special study, but a serious endeavor to gather up the results of all human knowledge in their most general form, and make them available for the practical conduct of life."[1] It was this fact which made Christianity's progress among the educated classes so slow. Once it had made its way, however, the taking over of political control by the Church was both easy and natural. One of the most notable characteristics of the New Testament and of all early Christianity in its relation to the existing political system was the doctrine of obedience to the constituted authorities. That a man like St. Paul should advocate submission to a man like Nero seems like the negation of elementary morality. The reasons for this attitude are many. In this paper we are concerned only with one of them--but possibly the most important one. The submissiveness of the early Christians to tyranny and despotism was not due primarily to impotence nor yet to excessive mildness of disposition. Many emperors before Constantine were deposed and slain by political groups smaller and feebler than the Christians. St. Paul and St. Ignatius, to go no farther, were not by nature pacifists. It would be difficult to find a book of a more militant tone than the Revelation of St. John. The main reason for the political non-resistance of the early Christians is to be sought in their philosophy; their views of the world. These views were of a very special and very peculiar kind. They were in large part either directly inherited from Jewish thought or adapted from it. While they are in some respects inconsistent with one another, they have a common element. They are all catastrophic. In all of them the catastrophe is more or less immediately imminent. The Old Testament Prophets taught the establishment, in the indefinite future, of an eternal Messianic kingdom on this present earth. For a long time this hope was cherished by every Jew. But some time before the beginning of the First Century B.C. a change took place. The old conception was abandoned, slowly indeed, but at last absolutely. In its place arose a belief which developed into Chiliasm or Millenarianism. Perhaps the first clear statement of this new idea is to be found in the book known as I Enoch. In this work which dates from 104-95 B.C., the Messianic kingdom is for the first time conceived of as of temporary duration. The resurrection and final judgment which in the preceding form of belief were the prelude to the everlasting Messianic kingdom on earth, are now transposed to the end of the transitory, early kingdom of the Messiah. This temporary earthly kingdom is no longer the final abode of the risen righteous. They are to enjoy a blessed immortality in the eternal heaven.[2] We have in this author a practically complete statement of later Christian Chiliasm. There is indeed one important feature missing. The specific duration of the Messianic kingdom is not given. The advent of the kingdom also is not pressingly imminent. In the Parables 94-64 B.C. we find certain other elements. This writer holds to the eternal Messianic kingdom but the scene of this kingdom is not the earth as at present existing but a new heaven and a new earth. The Messiah is no longer a mere man but a supernatural being. Four titles characteristic of the New Testament are for the first time applied to him: "The Christ," "The Righteous One," "The Elect One," "The Son of Man." He executes judgment on man and enjoys universal dominion. The resurrection is not of the old body but of a body of glory and light, of an angelic nature, in short a spiritual body, though the specific word spiritual is not used.[3] In the other eschatological works of this period: e.g. Psalms of Solomon 70-40 B.C. Judith (circa 50 B.C.) [one reference]; The Sibylline Oracles III 1-62 (before 31 B.C.); The Epitomiser of Jason of Cyrene (between 100-40 B.C.) and the fragmentary Zadokite Work, 18 B.C., the tradition of the temporary kingdom is carried on but without the addition of any concepts essential to our purpose. In the first century A.D., still confining ourselves to specifically Jewish Apocalyptic literature we find various changes taking place. The eternal Messianic kingdom passes largely out. The temporary Messianic kingdom becomes an eternal national one. The interest of the individual Jew comes to center on his own lot in the future life.[4] We have to pass a number of writers; Assumption of Moses, Philo, etc., before we come to the specific statement of Chiliasm proper, i.e., the duration of the Messianic kingdom for 1000 years. In the Book of The Secrets of Enoch commonly known as II Enoch (1-50 A.D.) we find for the first time the doctrine which was taken over to make the Christian Millennium. The writer of II Enoch was an Egyptian Jew. He says that as the world was made in six days, its course will run for six thousand years. The 6000 years will be followed by a Messianic kingdom of rest and blessedness lasting 1000 years. After that follows the final judgment, "The great day of the Lord." Passing now to the New Testament, it is only necessary for our purpose to enumerate three different concepts of the Messianic kingdom that are found therein. In these concepts contemporaneous Jewish ideas are taken with more or less transformation. The first conception perhaps holds the idea of a present world kingdom but puts emphasis on the futurity of the kingdom. Its ultimate consumation is not by gradual, natural development, but by the catastrophic reappearance of Christ. This Second Advent is to be preceded by tremendous portents of the most terrible sort. The second conception is that the kingdom is already present in Christ's appearance as the Messiah. It is to grow by the natural laws of spiritual development to its full realization. A considerable length of time is conceived as necessary for the attainment of mature growth. The consumation of the kingdom in the Second Advent is to be unexpected and sudden and none but the Father knows when it will take place. The third conception, that of Chiliasm, is that the Second Advent of Christ is close at hand. Anti Christ and his confederates are to be destroyed at Megiddo. Satan is to be bound for 1000 years during which is the Millennium, when the martyrs are raised in the first resurrection and reign with Christ at Jerusalem. This conception is found in the Revelation and perhaps I Cor. XV, 24-27. All the essential elements of it are to be found in pre-existing sources, e.g., the 1000 years in II Enoch, the reign of the saints in Testaments of the XII Patriarchs, etc. These three conceptions were variously confused in early Christianity. All the New Testament writers hold, for instance, to the immediately imminent Second Advent. How many of them were Chiliasts we have no way of knowing. The earliest, Christian writing extant outside the New Testament, which deals with this subject is perhaps Papias, 70-155 A.D. He is a most materialistic Chiliast and quotes II Baruch as an authentic utterance of Christ handed to himself by apostolic tradition.[5] Barnabas is another apostolic Chiliast. He expressly teaches a millennial reign of Christ on earth. The six days of creation are the type of six periods of 1000 years each. The seventh day is the millennium, since with God "one day is as a thousand years." The earthly, millennial sabbath is to be followed by an eighth and eternal day in heaven. The Millennium is near at hand. Barnabas does not quote Revelation. His views can be drawn equally well or better from II Enoch, I Enoch and other Jewish sources. The first Chiliast we know of to get into disrepute was the famous heretic, Cerinthus, (last part of first century). His heresy had nothing to do with his Chiliasm, as it seems to have been a sort of Judaistic Gnosticism and Gnosticism in general was not favorable to Chiliasm. However the fact that so abhorrent a heretic held Chiliastic views did not help those views in the judgment of later Christians. About the end of the first century also Chiliasm came into rather disreputable prominence as a leading doctrine of the Ebionites, a sect of antitrinitarian Judaistic-Christian heretics. This sect was wide spread though not particularly numerous and aroused the bitter antagonism of the orthodox. As in the case of Cerinthus, their heresy had nothing necessarily to do with Chiliasm. But here again Chiliasm had the misfortune to get into bad company. In the middle of the second century Chiliasm appears to have been the belief of the majority of Christians though it never found formal expression in any creed. Justin Martyn, 110-165 A.D., tells us that Christ is to reign with the patriarchs for 1000 years in a rebuilt Jerusalem. He bases this belief on Rev. XX, 4-5 and says he holds this doctrine as part of the body of Christian faith. He adds, however, that "many good and true Christians think otherwise." This later statement is the more notable as it is the only difference between orthodox Christians which he mentions. He places the Ebionites outside the Christian pale. The first non-Chiliasts we meet with in Christian history are the Gnostics. Of their actual position on Chiliasm we know practically nothing except by inference. They did not apparently fight it. They simply tacitly ignored it. In the long and minute descriptions of various Gnostic systems that have come down to us nothing is said on the subject; but the systems as outlined leave no place for the Chiliastic doctrines. The first open enemies of Chiliasm that are to be found in the Church are the Alogi, a sect that flourished in Asia Minor about 160-180 A.D. According to Harnack: "The representatives of this movement were, as far as we know, the first in the Church to undertake a historical criticism, worthy of the name, of the Christian scriptures and the Church tradition."[6] They were rationalisticly inclined, desired to keep prophecy out of the Church and denied on essentially the same internal grounds as modern students, the Johannine authorship of the Revelation and also of the Fourth Gospel. With less reason they ascribed the Revelation to the heretic Cerinthus. Unfortunately we know but little about them. Hippolytus wrote against them and defended the apostolic authorship of Revelation and the Fourth Gospel in two books now lost. But the Alogi are criticised only mildly, and indeed Irenaeus does not class them as heretics at all. Opposition to Chiliasm was manifestly not looked upon as an important matter in the last quarter of the second century--at least in Rome.[7] To this same period belong the writings of Gaius of Rome who asserts that the Heretic Cerinthus wrote the Revelation, and also those of Bishop Melito of Sardis, a saint of great repute, who was an ardent Chiliast. So that at this period both Chiliasm and non-Chiliasm would seem to be perhaps equally wide spread and certainly equally permissable. Irenaeus, Bishop of Lyons 120-202 A.D., was a strong Chiliast. He describes in minute detail the overthrow of the Roman Empire, the reign of Anti-Christ for 1260 days (three and half years) the visible advent of Christ, the binding of Satan, the joyful reign of Christ in the rebuilt Jerusalem with the risen saints and martyrs over the nations of the world for a thousand years. Then follows the temporary raging of Satan, the last victory, the general resurrection and judgment, and the consumation of all things in a new heaven and a new earth. The ascription of genuine divine inspiration to the Sibylline Oracles by the early Church writers is well known. It is a noteworthy fact that the Chiliasts[8] seem to be much more inclined to quote the Oracles than the non-Chiliasts. The Christians' addiction to the Oracles called forth the derision of Celsus.[9] Origen makes no defense and it is at least possible to conjecture that the reason is that he disapproved of the use made of the Oracles by the Chiliasts. The Oracles were of course made use of by all sorts of agencies which for any reason wished ill to the Roman authority and yet dared not indulge in secular sedition. Some enthusiastic Chiliast put forth an Oracle, probably in the reign of Marcus Aurelius, which was more definite than prudent. According to this prediction the end of Rome and the final consumation of all things was due in the year 195-196 A.D.[10] There is reason to believe that this prophecy represented the belief of a considerable number of Christian Chiliasts. While there is no extant evidence to that effect, it is a rational deduction, that when the year 195-196 A.D. passed without any unusual occurrences, the prestige of the persons trusting the Oracle would be damaged. So far as these persons were Chiliasts, Chiliasm would suffer in repute. That this was actually the case is as nearly certain as any logical conclusion about psychological reactions well can be. About the year 156 A.D. there arose in Phrygia the movement called Montanism. Essentially it was a reaction against the growing secularization of Christianity. It spread to the rest of Asia Minor, Egypt, Italy, Spain, and especially Carthage and surrounding districts in North Africa. It was the strongest movement in favor of a revival of primitive Puritanism that occurs in early Church history. It lasted in the East almost till the Arab Invasion; in the West it did not die out until the time of Augustine. The Montanists are the most pronounced Chiliasts we meet with. Not indeed in their theory but in their practice. One Syrian Montanist bishop "Persuaded many brethren with their wives and children to go to meet Christ in the wilderness; another in Pontus induced his people to sell all their possessions, to cease tilling their lands, to conclude no more marriages, etc., because the coming of the Lord was nigh at hand."[11] The Montanist prophetess, Prisca, about 165 A.D. said: "After me there will come no other prophetess but the end." A peculiarity of eastern Montanistic Chiliasm was the idea that Christ would reign not in Jerusalem but in Pepuza, a small town in Phrygia. In accord with this idea Montanus tried to get all believers to settle in this town to await the Lord's coming. The western Montanists however, of whom Tertullian was chief, held to the regular belief that the Messianic kingdom would be centered in Jerusalem. Because of certain theological beliefs aside from Chiliasm, the Montanists aroused the antagonism of the Church authorities. The earliest Church councils to be met with after New Testament times were called for the purpose of dealing with Montanism which was finally denounced as a heresy and after the triumph of the Church some imperial edicts were issued against the sect. For the first time in the attack on Montanism at the end of the second and early part of the third Century we find Chiliastic beliefs referred to as 'carnal and Jewish.' There is no formal condemnation of Chiliasm as such, but once more, and much more seriously than in the case of the Ebionites, Chiliasm suffered from being associated in the minds of orthodox Christians with heresy and schism. It would however be very easy to exaggerate the effect of this and it is necessary to bear in mind that while the literature of Montanism is fairly considerable, Chiliasm is an entirely subordinate matter in the controversy and indeed seems sometimes to be mentioned merely casually. The Chiliastic writers are perhaps more inclined to view Montanism leniently. Irenaeus does not include it in his list of heresies. Its association with Montanism brought Chiliasm into disrepute and suspicion with the Church hierarchy and it is not surprising that beginning with the last years of the second century we find a deliberate system of suppression adopted by certain ecclesiastical authorities--notably in Egypt. As we shall try to show later, the declension of Chiliasm can be only very imperfectly explained by official antagonism. But so far as this declension can be ascribed to individuals, the three great Alexandrian divines; Clement, Origen, and Dionysius have a prominent part. The influence of these men counted the more as it was consistently exercised in the same locality with increasing force during a period of more than half a century. The first of these writers, Clement (150-216 A.D.) does not specifically refer to the Chiliasts but there are a number of passages where he evidently has them in mind.[12] However the probability is that this very refraining from direct attack made his efforts the more successful. He emphasizes the fact that scriptural statements--particularly scriptural numbers--are not to be taken literally but are to be understood as of mystical significance. If Clement consciously aimed at the extirpation of Chiliasm (which is not absolutely certain) he at any rate took the most effective means for accomplishing that result. The great presupposition upon which Christian Chiliasm has been based is that of the literal interpretation of Scripture. By attacking that presupposition Clement caused the doctrine to be questioned by many persons whose attachment to Chiliasm would doubtless have only been strengthened by direct attack upon that tenet in particular. He prepared the way for the open and far more powerful attacks upon Chiliasm made by his great successor in the Catechetical School, Origen (185-254 A.D.). The position of this great theologian is the most equivocal of any writer who has attained eminence in Christian theology. How far anything he wrote is to be considered as orthodox is a most difficult matter to determine. The fact that Origen opposed Chiliasm, taken by itself, apart from the subsequent fate of the doctrine, could just as easily be made a commendation as a condemnation of that belief. Almost alone among Christian men Origen has been removed from the calendar of Catholic saints after having been duly received as a saint for the space of more than a hundred and fifty years. This unique fact, which is of course of far more importance for theology than for history, has nevertheless a bearing on our subject. The condemnation of Origen came too late to save the Chiliastic apologetic in the East but it very possibly may have had an indirect influence in the matter of continuing the repute of western Chiliasm. Origen attacked Chiliasm in two vital points: First he insisted even more strongly than Clement upon the figurative or mystical or 'typical' interpretation of Scripture. In this regard he specifically quotes a number of Chiliastic passages of scripture and definitely says that their meaning is to be taken figuratively.[13] But more important than that, he definitely substitutes the theory of progressive development of the intellectual and spiritual element of man for the physical and sensuous earthly kingdom of the Chiliasts. This was certainly a great gain for the anti-Chiliastic theory which for the first time took a logical and comprehensible if a somewhat metaphysical form. However it must be admitted that the argument of Origen though wonderfully clear headed and almost miraculously modern[14] is too purely intellectual and cast in too philosophical a form to have any direct influence on ordinary individuals. It was doubtless quite in place in the Catechetical School and among scholars in the great centers of ancient learning but outside those limits its influence--at least directly--must have been very small. Nepos, an Egyptian bishop, answered Origen in a book entitled: "Refutation of Allegorists." This book is lost but we know that it was considered by the Chiliasts to be a work of the most powerful and indeed irrefutable sort. In the Arsinoite nome (on the west bank of the Nile south of Memphis) the Chiliastic doctrines were held by whole villages together and Dionysius the Great (Bishop of Alexandria 247-264 A.D.) found it necessary to visit this region and hold a public argument and instruction in order to avert a schism. By the tact and conciliatory attitude of the Bishop the Chiliasts were either won over to the non-Chiliastic view or at least expressed their gratification at the conference. It would appear, however, as if this synod or meeting was not sufficient to destroy the influence of Nepos' book so Dionysius wrote in refutation of it two books "On the Promises." Except for a few fragments these books have perished. We know merely that the first book contained a statement of the non-Chiliastic view and the second a detailed discussion of the Revelation in relation to Chiliasm and to the views of Nepos. However, Dionysius, who was well aware that as long as the 'Revelation of St. John' was received as a genuine work of the Apostle it would be difficult to oppose Chiliasm, gives a very strong argument against the apostolic authorship while diplomatically saying at the beginning of his discussion that he is able to agree that the Revelation is the work of a holy and inspired man.[15] There is no reason to doubt that this refutation of Nepos by Dionysius met with success wherever Christian Hellenisticism exercised influence. But it by no means extirpated Chiliasm in Egypt. For many generations after its author's death Chiliasm was still believed by the monks of the Thebiad. In fact a large number of Jewish Apocalypses which the early Christians accepted as inspired are preserved to us bound up in Coptic and Ethiopic copies of the scriptures. The Alexandrians had, however, succeeded so well that in the subsequent period there are only two defenders of Chiliasm in the Eastern Church that are worthy of mention. These two are Methodius of Tyre and Apollinaris of Laodicea. Methodius 260-312 A.D. was bishop first of Olympus and Patara in Lycia and afterwards of Tyre in Phoenicia. He is notable for his opposition to Origen and for his relatively more spiritualized Chiliasm. He maintains that in the Millennium, death will be abolished and the inhabitants of the earth will not marry or beget children but live in all happiness like the angels without change or decay. He is very careful to insist upon the literal resurrection of the body, however, and emphasizes the fact that the risen saints while like the angels do not become angels.[16] He died a martyr at Chalcis in Greece. Apollinaris of Laodicea (300?-390 A.D.) is a notable figure in Christological controversy but unfortunately very little that he wrote has come down to us, and of that little the authenticity is not entirely unimpeachable. We are constrained to get his Chiliastic views from the writings of his theological opponents and unfortunately there is not wanting evidence to the effect that these opponents, Basil the Great and Gregory Nazianzen, notable Christians as they were, were not lacking in bias. Gregory[17] calls the Chiliastic doctrine of the Apolinarians 'gross and carnal,' a 'second Judaism' and speaks of 'their silly thousand years delight in paradise.' Basil[18] calls the Chiliasm of Apolinaris 'mythical or rather Jewish,' 'ridiculous,' and 'contrary to the doctrines of the Gospel.' This is, so far as the writer is aware, the first instance in which any great theologian goes to such extremes and Basil's language, though strong, is not altogether without an element of hesitation and questioning. In short it would seem that he asserted more than he felt sure of being able to prove--no rare phenomenon unfortunately in certain of the great contraversialists. If Basil's statements are to be taken at their face value Apollinaris was indeed the most Judaizing Christian in his Chiliasm of any of whom we have record. He would seem to justify Basil's jibe 'we are to be altogether turned from Christians into Jews,' for in his Messianic kingdom not only is the Temple at Jerusalem to be restored but also the worship of the old Law, with high priest, sacrifices, the ashes of a heifer, the jealousy offering, shew bread, burning lamps, circumcision and other such things which Basil indignantly denounces as 'figments,' 'mere old wives' fables' and 'doctrines of Jews.'[19] Although Apollinarianism was condemned by a council at Alexandria as early as 362 A.D. and Roman councils followed suit in 377 and 378 and the second Ecumenical Council in 381 and though Imperial degrees were issued against it in 388, 397 and 428 it persisted for many generations. The last condemnation on record is that of the Quinisextum Synod 691 A.D. In this case, as in others mentioned, we see the unfortunate fate of Chiliasm in getting mixed up with heresies with which it, as such, had nothing to do. The extraordinary detestation which overtook Apollinaris as arch-heretic par excellence seems to have finally discouraged Chiliasm in the Eastern Church. It was reckoned as a heresy thereafter and though it appears sporadically down to our own day it is of no more interest for our purpose. In the Western Church Chiliasm prevailed until the time of Augustine. It seems to have provoked very little discussion or controversy. Hippolytus, 235 A.D., carries on the Chiliastic tradition of Irenaeus but with a certain degree of assured futurity about the Second Advent not found in the earlier writers. This pushing of the Second Advent into the future is a marked feature of Western Chiliasm. By a weird use of 'types' Hippolytus proves with entire conclusiveness to himself that the Second Advent is to occur in the year 500 A.D.[20] The overthrow of Rome has a prominent part in his elaborate description of the last times but he veils his statements with a certain amount of transparent discretion.[21] He has in all other essential respects the same ideas as Irenaeus but expressed in a less naïve form. He is a transition figure. His Second Advent is far enough off to allow some considerable latitude for the building up of the ecclesiastical hierarchy which was the business of Rome and he emphasizes the point that the "gospel must first be preached to all nations." John the Baptist reappears as the precursor of Christ. Commodianus, a North African bishop, 240 A.D., represents the generation after Hippolytus. His two poems present rather different versions of Chiliasm. The first is a simple and rather pleasing version.[22] The only notable variation it contains is that the risen saints in the Millennial Kingdom are to be served by the nobles of the conquered anti-Christ. The second poem is an apologetic against Jews and Gentiles. "The author expects the end of the world will come with the seventh persecution. The Goths will conquer Rome and redeem the Christians; but then Nero will appear again as the heathen anti-Christ, reconquer Rome and rage against the Christians three years and a half. He will in turn be conquered by the Jewish and real anti-Christ from the East, who, after the defeat of Nero and the burning of Rome, will return to Judea, perform false miracles and be worshipped by the Jews. At last Christ appears with the lost tribes, as his army, who had lived beyond Persia in happy simplicity and virtue. Under astounding phenomena of nature he will conquer anti-Christ and his host, convert all nations and take possession of the holy city of Jerusalem."[23] This double anti-Christ is perhaps the most notable variation. This idea reappears later, as does the Nero return which would seem to have been current belief. There are perhaps only two other writers before Augustine that are worthy of mention, Victorinus and Lactantius. Victorinus, bishop of Poetovio, i.e., Petair in Austria, martyred 304 A.D., is the earliest exegete of the Latin Church. His 'Commentary on the Apocalypse' has come down to us in bad shape. The Chiliasm is of a type which may be described as formal and ritualistic in the sense that it is expressed in a matter of fact way as something not needing explanation, much less proof. There are only two new ideas: "The first resurrection is now of the souls that are by the faith, which does not permit men to pass over to the second death"[24] and "Those years wherein Satan is bound are in the first advent of Christ even to the end of the age; and they are called a thousand according to that mode of speaking wherein a part is signified by the whole--although they are not a thousand."[25] Lactantius the preceptor of Crispus, son of Constantine, brings us to the Chiliasm of the established Church. The end of the present age and the coming of the millennial kingdom are at the latest 200 years in the future, probably nearer, but the event instead of being looked toward to, is dreaded. The forthcoming destruction of Rome is bewailed. The world is safe as long as Rome stands. Nero is to be anti-Christ. "They who shall be alive in their bodies shall not die, but during those thousand years shall produce an infinite multitude, and their offspring shall be holy and beloved of God; but they who shall be raised from the dead shall preside over the living as judges. The nations shall not be entirely extinguished, but some shall be left as a victory for God, that they may be the occasion of triumph to the righteous and may be subjected to perpetual slavery."[26] The Chiliasm of Lactantius is proved from the Sibylline Oracles and from the philosopher Chrysippus, a Stoic. For the rest Lactantius repeats the traditional Christian and pre-Christian Jewish Chiliastic concepts with very little variation, but it is evident that the fact that the fall of Rome is dreaded will work out a change. The Chiliasm of Lactantius is unstable, not that there is the slightest breath of doubt about it, but that the attitude of mind which looked forward with dread to the Second Advent could be depended upon to find a theory for postponing it. Chiliasm is ready for its transformation. In the century between Lactantius and Augustine there is no Chiliast of note in the west. It is abundantly evident however, from the works of Augustine that Chiliasm was common during that period as well as in the time of Augustine. Indeed Augustine himself was a Chiliast though probably not an exceedingly literal one, during his early period in the Church.[27] It is certain that he never regarded the doctrine as heretical. Even in the very book in which he puts forth the doctrine which eventually superseded Chiliasm he says: "This opinion would not be objectionable if it were believed that the joys of the saints in that Sabbath[27] shall be spiritual and consequent on the presence of God."[28] We have in this quotation a hint as to the reason why he abandoned Chiliasm. He elaborates this in the immediately following passage: "As they say that those who then rise again shall enjoy the leisure of immoderate carnal banquets, furnished with an amount of meat and drink such as not only to shock the feeling of the temperate, but even to surpass the measure of credulity itself, such assertions can be believed only by the carnal."[29] Disgust with this literal interpretation of the scripture was thus one of the reasons which drew Augustine away from Chiliasm. A more direct reason was that he had an idea of his own as to how the Chiliastic Scriptural passage[30] should be interpreted. The discussion in which he vanquishes the Chiliastic concept is a model of contraversial method. It would be difficult to find its superior either in sacred or profane polemics. Perfectly conscious of his own powers to make Chiliasm appear at once absurd and ridiculous he refrains from doing so. Abundantly able though he was to refute the Millennians point by point he deliberately foregoes that method of attack. His argument which overthrew an ancient, famous, and widespread doctrine of primitive Christianity contains hardly a line either of refutation or condemnation. It is perhaps the finest example in Christian literature of the 'positive apologetic.' The Chiliastic literature, even that which has come down to us, contains so much that is fantastic and ludicrous that it would have been very easy for a man of far less power than Augustine to hold it up to contempt and scorn. It abounds in the same kind of absurdities and incongruities as the pagan myths which provoked so many stinging pages from the early apologists and from Augustine himself. The fact that Augustine did not yield to the temptation to make his opponents ridiculous is in the highest degree creditable to his head and his heart. He did not violate the precepts of Christian charity and he obtained a victory greater than would have been within even his power had he yielded to the natural temptation of a great intellect to show up the mental inferiority of his opponents. It is interesting to compare Augustine's treatment of Chiliasm with Origen's. The two men are very comparable as regards extent and variety of knowledge, intellectual power, and philosophic insight. They are very unlike however, in their treatment of the subject. Origen simply explains away the whole Chiliastic concept or rather so spiritualizes it that nothing resembling the original idea is left. His whole insistence is that it must be taken figuratively, and without the least warrant he asserts that his interpretation is "according to the understanding of the apostles."[31] He makes the whole subject so subjective, so intellectual, so metaphysical that there is left no content for the ordinary man to hold to in place of that which is demolished. In the overthrow of Eastern Chiliasm Origen holds as conspicuous a position as Augustine in the overthrow of Western. He did away with a doctrine, too carnal perhaps, but at any rate concrete and comforting, and he substituted an intellectual abstraction. For instance in explaining, or better explaining away, the Chiliastic feasts in the New Jerusalem he says:[32] "The rational nature growing by each individual step, enlarged in understanding and in power of perception is increased in intellectual growth; and ever gazing purely on the causes of things it attains perfection, firstly, viz., that by which it ascends to the truth, and secondly that by which it abides in it, having problems and the understanding of things and the causes of things as the food on which it may feast. And in all things this food is to be understood as the contemplation and understanding of God, which is of a measure appropriate and suitable to this nature, which was made and created, etc." This kind of thing is the intellectual equivalent of the process in physics by which the scientist takes some tangible solid body and proceeds first to liquify it, then to volitilize it and finally to blow it entirely away. We strongly suspect that the Eastern Chiliasts felt that the whole thing was a kleptistic legerdemain by which they were deprived of a favorite doctrine without receiving anything in place of it. Augustine's method differs toto caelo from this. While Origen handles the subject like a metaphysician, Augustine handles it like a statesman. His doctrine is just as concrete as the one he displaces. He takes nothing away without giving something equally tangible and of better quality in its place. The transition from Chiliasm to the Origenistic conception of the future, would be, for the ordinary person, an incredible and almost impossible intellectual feat. The transition from Chiliasm to the Augustinian conception of the future is natural, easy, and perfectly within the power of a very ordinary and commonplace mentality. As a matter of fact it made its way without the smallest difficulty into the religious consciousness of the whole of western Christianity. Any person who aims at changing the theological opinions of others can find no better manual of method than the twentieth book of the City of God. Augustine was very careful to keep all the symbols, catch words, and paraphernalia of Chiliasm. He was careful not only to keep them all but to keep them all in their literal sense. He explains away none of them and allegorizes none of them. By carefully preserving the ancient shibboleths he was easily able to empty them of their former content. He holds to the millennium, the idea that is, of thousand years, as firmly as any Chiliast but he says the thousand years is to be reckoned as dating from the establishment of the Church on earth i.e., the first coming of Christ. So he is careful to preserve the phrase: "The Reign of the Saints"; he merely substitutes for the Chiliastic content of that phase the very comfortable and plausable doctrine that the saints are his own Christian contemporaries. He is very skillful, not to say flattering, in his method of 'putting this across.' So he retains similarly the old formula about the two resurrections--but makes the first resurrection out to be the marvelous transformation and participation in the resurrection of Christ which the Christian experiences by virtue of the sacrament of baptism. More important still is his new content for the phrase "Kingdom of Heaven." This instead of a state of future blessedness becomes the already existing church on earth. Finally he indulges in a long and apparently straight faced discussion as to whether the reign of anti-Christ--which he preserves in its most literal form with the regulation duration of three years and a half--whether this is to be reckoned as part of the thousand years or not. This inconsequential detail is labored at length in such a manner as to delight the soul of any good Bible reading Chiliast. By preserving till the last this single element of Chiliasm which he leaves untouched and then treating it in the good, old, religious fashion of Irenaeus or some other primitive worthy, he very skillfully disarms criticism and it is only by a strong effort that the reader realizes what a tremendous blow has been struck at the original Chiliastic doctrine. Let us see what the changes of Augustine amount to. It is not less than the total destruction of Chiliasm, or at the very least the postponement of the end of the world till the year 1000 A.D. Augustine's doctrine is essentially that of the ordinary, orthodox, Bible Christian today. Sometime in the future--Augustine said possibly in the year 1000 A.D.--Christ was to come again to the earth. Then follows the resurrection of the dead, the final judgment, and heaven and hell. The questions about the three years and a half of anti-Christ, together with Gog and Magog--great favorites with the Chiliasts--are held to be insoluble as to the time of their appearance; whether to be reckoned as part of the thousand years or immediately succeeding it. It is commonly said that Augustine is responsible for the belief that the world was to come to an end in the year 1000 A.D. This is not strictly correct. Augustine nowhere makes that direct assertion. He nowhere--so far as the writer is aware--even implies it. What he does is to offer it as a possible alternative hypothesis to the idea that the thousand years, (since 1000 is the cube of 10,) is to be taken as a statement of the total duration of the world. As the matter is of some interest we give the original passage in Dod's translation:[33] "Now the thousand years may be understood in two ways so far as occurs to me: either because these things happen in the sixth thousand of years or sixth millennium (the latter part of which is now passing) as if during the sixth day, which is to be followed by a sabbath which has no evening, the endless rest of the saints, so that, speaking of a part under the name of the whole, he calls the last part of the millennium--the part that is which had yet to expire before the end of the world--a thousand years; or he used the thousand years as an equivalent for the whole duration of this world, employing the number of perfection to mark the fullness of time. For a thousand is the cube of ten.... For the same reason we cannot better interpret the words of the psalm. "The word which he commanded to a thousand generations," than by understanding it to mean, "to all generations." The above sketch summarizes essentially all that has survived about the Chiliasm of the early Church. The Chiliastic passages in the Church literature up to and including Augustine, though rather widely scattered, are not great in bulk. If printed together they would make only a moderate sized pamphlet. But their importance is by no means to be measured by their size. Chiliasm, better than any other movement of the early period, serves as a standard for measuring the degree of the socialization of Christianity. It comprises the only body of doctrine which passed from practically universal acceptance to practically universal repudiation during the period when the Church changed from a small esoteric cult to a dominant factor of society. Considered from this point of view, the causes of the decline of Chiliasm possess a historical importance out of all proportion to the importance of Chiliasm itself. More than any other religious movement of the time Chiliasm was free from the direct pressure of distinctly religious influences. Its declension was more nearly a case of unconscious social and psychological determinism than any other contemporary theological phenomenon. Its chief supporters and opponents are not to be regarded so much as factors in its history, as points where the socializing forces operating in the early Church become for the moment visible. Certain facts stand out even in the short epitome we have given. Chiliasm never became powerful in the great cities. It survived longest and was most popular in regions[34] comparatively cut off from the great centers of civilization. Hellenizing influences were unfavorable to it, Romanizing influences indifferent to it. The reasons for this are numerous and most of them have been treated sufficiently by previous investigators, but in the writer's judgment certain other important influences have been either slighted or entirely ignored. We shall consider one or two. The supremely important fact in early Christian history is the development of the concept of "The Church" as an independent, self-existing, metaphysical entity. This metaphysical entity was conceived as embodying itself in the whole body of believers; living, dead, and yet to be born. The entity was eternal, indestructible, and in its essence immutable. Although partially embodied in a visible society its essential being was conceived as independently sustained in the nature of the universe. It was an idea in the strict Platonic sense. No concept like this is found in the contemporary pagan cults. Even the Jewish concept of the 'chosen people' is ethnic or national rather than purely religious and it has no tinge of that metaphysical existence which is the most notable element in the Catholic concept of the Church. The elements out of which 'the Church' concept was constructed were four: two Roman, one Greek and one Hebrew. The Roman lawyers, in the process of fitting a municipal legal system to a world empire, evolved the twin legal entities, 'state' and 'sovereignty.' These entities were endowed with divers qualities; eternity, immutability, etc., but especially with the quality of having existential reality apart from any individual embodiment thereof. Greek philosophy contributed the idea of the Cosmopolis, the ideal world-city in which the fullest development of human personality was to be attained. This concept was as purely metaphysical as the self-existing, absolute 'state' of the Roman law, but unlike the Roman concept it had no concrete existence. The Jewish contribution was that of the 'chosen people,' 'the elect nation.' These four concepts were transferred from their original loci to the Christian society. The fact that all of these concepts were combined and centered on the same social group and the further fact that each of these concepts supplemented the others in a remarkable way resulted in the formation of one of the most powerful ideas in religious history. This Church concept, thus built up, had already become widespread in the time of Augustine and this fact helps us to understand the otherwise unintelligible success of that saint in combatting Chiliasm. The real truth is seen to be that Augustine's ideas succeeded because they were not peculiarly his at all--they already existed, implicitly but really, in the mind of the generation which he addressed. The elements of the concept 'the Church' being what they were, Augustine's explanation of, or rather abolition of, Chiliasm follows of inevitable logical and intellectual necessity. It was the genius of Augustine that he recognized and gave formulated, concrete expression to this accomplished fact and it is no derogation of his genius to say that had he never existed the accomplished fact would eventually have been given expression to by some one else. Another little considered element in Chiliasm is that of masochism, and sadism, the two being merely the opposite sides of the same psychical phenomenon. This element is found more or less prominently in all the Chiliastic literature from the early fragment of Papias to the elaborate discussions of Augustine. The masochistic phenomena are the most remarkable characteristics of the early martyrdoms and if a collection were made of the masochistic passages of the writings of the Chiliasts, the bulk of them would be as great as that of the Chiliastic passages proper. It is necessary to bear in mind that masochism necessarily, in any advanced society, disguises itself under some socially acceptable form of sentiment or emotion, i.e., admiration for the constancy of the confessors or martyrs, suffering as a mark of the true Church, etc. It is always associated with the reality or idea of struggle. It has a high 'survival value' in the struggle for existence by heightening individual power in conflict. Like other human characteristics it is seen most clearly in the exaggerated form it assumes in its crowd manifestations. Its most evident expression is in the 'mob mind.' Our problem, then, is to discover how the declension of Chiliasm is to be explained by the transfer of the masochistic element in it to other vehicles of expression. The masochistic element was a vital factor in Chiliasm; without it almost the whole force of 'the thousand years reign of the saints' is lost. The explanation of the transfer is difficult. Undoubtedly some of the masochistic values of Chiliasm were taken over by the various, previously mentioned concepts that combined to make up the idea of the Catholic Church. 'Extra ecclesia nulla salus' accounts for part of the phenomena previously expressed Chiliastically. It is notable in this connection that there is no word of Chiliasm in Cyprian. But a more important transfer was that which took place in the course of the development of the doctrine of purgatory. It may perhaps seem incongruous to say that purgatory took over the values of the millennium and from the point of view of formal theology it is so. But the only point we are trying to make here, namely, the fundamental fact of the expression of masochistic impulses, is as evidently shown in the purgatory as in the millennium concept. The desire for a heightened sense of self-realization, a richer content of experience, is the cause of the appearance of both concepts and they are closely allied psychologically. This fact comes out in the large part played by the Chiliasts in the evolution of the purgatory concept.[35] What we find here is a concurrent declension of Chiliasm and development of purgatory. For about two centuries the two concepts existed side by side; then the superior social value of purgatory asserting itself, that doctrine gradually took over the masochistic values of Chiliasm; the supersession of the later being rendered thereby more rapid and easy. However it is probably that the transfer of the psychological values from Chiliasm was more to be ascribed to the rising asceticism of the early Church than to the concept of the Church as such, or even to the rise of the purgatory concept. Asceticism in some form is a permanent element in any wide spread religion and the values later expressed in Christian asceticism were in the earlier period mediated through Chiliasm. When St. Paul advocated abstinence from marriage 'because the time is short' he was not expressing asceticism. He was expressing a sensible idea based on belief in one of the chief Chiliastic doctrines, the immediate imminence of the Second Advent. In the case of such teachers as Tertullian the doctrine of marriage is the result of a combination of Chiliasm and asceticism. At a later date asceticism took over the doctrine of celibacy as meritorious on its own account but it never outgrew the original Chiliastic view that it was a logical preparation for the Second Advent. In other words restriction in matrimony whether Chiliastic or monastic is due to the same inherent element in human nature, i.e., the masochistic. Similarly those good Phrygian Chiliasts who abandoned all their possessions and went out into the desert to meet the Lord were moved by the same psychological impulse that actuated the monks of the Thebaid. Historically the one set of concepts imperceptibly gave way to the other. Those same Thebaid monks are a good illustration of the fact. Some of them, at least in the earlier stages of the movement, were influenced more by Chiliastic concepts than by monastic ones. Many were influenced by both. Here again the superior value of the ascetic concepts for the ecclesiastical organization determined the eventual survival of the monastic institution. But whatever the conceptual images employed to give expression to the masochistic impulse, that impulse was psychologically the same. Organized monachism furnished a more convenient outlet for the stronger masochistic impulses than Chiliasm and so superseded it. The fact that monachism grew in proportion as Chiliasm declined is in this respect merely a case of trans-shipment. The vehicle was different but the goods carried were the same. There are numerous other social and psychological, as well as economic causes for the declension of Chiliasm but they can perhaps be more conveniently considered in connection with the socialization of the early Church. FOOTNOTES: [1] F. Pollock, Essays in Jurisprudence and Ethics, p. 314. [2] Cf. I Enoch XCI-CIV. [3] Cf. Parables in I Enoch XXXVII-LXXI. [4] Cf. Apocalypse of Baruch; 4 Ezra, 4 Maccabees. [5] Irenaeus Adv. Haer. V 33. II Baruch XXIX. [6] Hist. of Dogma, Vol. III, p. 19. [7] Ens. H. E. VI 27-2. [8] Justin Martyn, Tertullian, Lactantius. [9] Ad. Celsus LXI. [10] Sib. Orac. VIII, 148 seq. [11] Hippolytus, Com. on Daniel. [12] Strom. VII, 17; VI 16; IV 25; V 6, 14. [13] De Princ, II, 11. [14] Cf. e.g., A. R. Wallace, The World of Life. [15] Eus. H. E. VII 25. [16] Discourse on the Resurrection, I, 9 seq. See also Conviv. IX, 1, 5. [17] Ep. CII, 4. [18] Ep. CCLXIII, 4. [19] Cp. CCLXV, 2. [20] Frag. Dan. I, 5, 6. [21] De Christo et Antic. 50. [22] Instructions, LXXX. [23] Schaff Hist., ii, 855. Sec. LXVII of poem. [24] Comm. XX 4.5. [25] Comm. XX 1.3. [26] Div. Ins. Bk. 7 XXIV. [27] C.D. XX 7. [28] I.e., the Millennium. [29] C.D. XX 7. [30] Rev. XX. [31] De Prin. II, 11, 3. [32] De Prin. II, 11, 7. [33] City of God in Nicene and Post Nicene Fathers, 1st Series, Vol. II, p. 427. [34] E.g., Lydia, Phrygia, The Thebaid. [35] Clem. Alex. Paed., iii, Strom. VII. Origen, Hom. on Num., XXV. Hom. on Ps. XXVI. Lactantius, VII, 20. CHAPTER II THE EARLY CHURCH AND PROPERTY CONCEPTS The Chiliasm of the early Christians had a direct bearing upon their attitude toward the property institutions and property concepts of the time. Neither the declension of Chiliasm nor the progressive socialization of the Church can be understood without some consideration of the attitude of the Christians toward property, and conversely the effect of the existing economic system upon the Christians. The early Church made its appearance in a world where the institution of private property was supreme in fact and very largely unquestioned in theory. It is recognized with perfect clearness by all the ancient thinkers who refer to the subject that their civilization was based upon the property rights of man in man. It is not true that slavery was invariably considered part of the unalterable law of nature. Aristotle expressly states that a sufficient development of mechanistic technology would abrogate slavery. But such a technological development was not expected nor indeed wished for. Contempt for mechanical processes of industry was universal, with the dubious exception of the application of science to military engines. There is a similar unanimity in regard to commercial enterprise. Money obtained by ordinary mercantile methods was considered as dishonestly acquired. It was assumed as self-evident that the merchant had to be a thief. Interest on money was of course reprobated as contrary to nature.[1] Return from landed property was almost the only socially reputable form of income--with the exception of spoils of war. Free wage labor was so unimportant that the Roman law did not even develop a set of legal principles regarding it. The Jewish property system, which originally had some notable peculiarities of its own, had by the first century A.D. become of necessity so like the Roman that the differences may for our purposes be disregarded. The more so as Christianity very early came almost exclusively under the influence of the Roman institutions and concepts in this regard. It is perhaps unnecessary to add that Roman practice in regard to property was widely at variance with Roman theory, with the result that serious moral disintegration came over persons engaging in commercial enterprises. The moral lapses of the early Christians are largely to be set down to this cause, on the principle that a destruction of moral integrity in one respect makes other delinquencies easy. With respect to the attitude of Christ towards contemporary property institutions, it is unnecessary for our purpose to regard any conclusions of modern criticism. The synoptic gospels were uncritically accepted by the early Church and we are concerned merely with what was commonly accepted as the teaching of Christ. Perhaps as convenient a way as any of illustrating the breadth of view in Christ's attitude toward property institutions would be to take a single illustration and apply to it the whole range of property concepts found in the teachings of Christ. No single illustration is so applied in the Gospels as we have them, but the principles will be the clearer for the consistent use of the same illustration. We shall take as our type case one which Christ himself used; the case of a thief who steals a coat. The teachings of Christ about property can conveniently be put down under four heads, each illustrating, by a different way of treating the thief, a different property concept. First: The ordinary or conventional manner of treating the thief, based on the concept of the morality and sacredness of private property; i.e., catching the thief, recovering the stolen property and punishing the crime by fine or imprisonment or torture. This conventional standard of morality and attitude towards property is illustrated, e.g., in the story of the man with one talent in the parable. It is very concisely summed up in the expression: "To him that hath shall be given and he shall have abundance and from him that hath not shall be taken away even that which he hath." Second: What may be called for convenience the socialistic manner of treating the thief--no implications either good or bad being intended by the use of the term socialistic. This treatment would consist of catching the thief, recovering the stolen property but letting the thief go free with merely an admonition to future good behavior. This treatment is based on the concept that the institution of private property has only a partial validity and that violations of private property rights are to be blamed not alone upon the violator but upon society at large in equal degree. This attitude is illustrated in the case of the woman taken in adultery: "Neither do I condemn thee; go and sin no more." The illustration is perhaps more apt than appears at first glance for female chastity is and was legally possessed of tangible economic value i.e., adultery was viewed as a violation of a property right belonging to the husband of the adultress. Third: What may be termed the anarchistic manner of treating the thief--here again no implications either good or bad are intended by the employment of the term anarchistic. This treatment consists essentially in pacificism, in Tolstoi's non-resistance. It is purely negative and allows the thief to get away with the stolen coat without anyone making any move to recover the property. This treatment is based on the concept that private property institutions have no validity at all, but that the only valid property arrangement is that of pure communism. This attitude toward property is illustrated by such sayings of Christ as "Of him that taketh away thy goods ask them not again;" "Resist not him that is evil," etc. Fourth: What may be distinguished as the specifically Christian manner of treating the thief--using the word Christian as appertaining strictly to the founder of the Church. This treatment consists of running after the thief not for the purpose of capturing and punishing him; not even for the purpose of recovering the stolen coat but for the purpose of giving him a vest and an overcoat in addition to what he has stolen. It amounts to the direct encouragement and reward of the thief for doing what is presumably a meritorious action by stealing. This way of treating a thief is not socialistic, or communistic; it is not even anarchistic. It is something as far beyond anarchy, as anarchy is beyond socialism, or socialism beyond ordinary conventional individualism. It is specifically and peculiarly and uniquely Christian, using that word as above defined. This treatment is not based on any concept of any kind of property institution. Its logical, intellectual position is the denial of the validity or worth of any property institutions, private or communistic. It involves indeed the destruction of the very concept property as implying possession by right of social agreement. This attitude of Christ toward property finds expression in such sayings as: "From him that taketh away thy cloke withhold not thy coat also." "Blessed are ye poor." "Woe unto you that are rich." It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle, etc. etc. The great bulk of Christ's statements about property are to be classified under this fourth head. The views are probably connected, with just what degree of closeness it is impossible to say, to the belief in the immediately imminent catastrophe of the world. With somewhat less certainty, it may be ventured that certain of Christ's sayings which we have listed as anarchistic are perhaps influenced by the same idea. It is of course obvious that the above four fold division is not exact in the strict scientific sense, or that any teaching of Christ concerning property can be unhesitatingly classified under one head or another. Still less is anything intended to be implied as to the existence or non-existence of any underlying, universal, theological principle which would reconcile apparent divergencies. Theological metaphysics as such, lie outside the scope of this chapter which is intended as an objective study of concepts of property. From an objective point of view it is evident that the four divisions imperceptibly shade into one another and form a continuous series, nevertheless for the sake of convenience it may be considered as approximating a rational organization of the material under distinct heads. Immediately after the time of Christ the Christians in Jerusalem developed a communistic organization. "All that believed were together and had all things in common and sold their possessions and goods and parted them to all men, as every man had need." "Neither said any of them that ought of the things which he possessed was his own; but they had all things common. Neither was there any among them that lacked; for as many as were possessors of lands or houses sold them, and brought the prices of the things that were sold and laid them at the apostles' feet; and distribution was made unto every man according as he had need."[2] It is doubtless true that the participants in this communistic society believed themselves to be living according to the principles and precepts of Christ. Yet there is some evidence which would lead to the conclusion that perhaps this experiment was less a deliberate and reasoned out endeavor to organize a permanent society on a new economic basis, than an instinctive movement, entered upon under the influence of a belief in the immediately imminent second advent of Christ and therefore expected to be of only very limited duration. The collections subsequently taken up in other Christian communities 'for the relief of the poor saints in Jerusalem' would seem to lend color to this view of the matter. In St. Paul's teaching about property there is a fundamental inconsistency. He makes statements which taken separately are applicable to particular situations but which are not in harmony with one another. He loyally supported the established right of private property, even in slaves. But at another time he pronounced that property right depended upon service rendered. In one place we have: "Slaves obey your masters" in another: "If any will not work neither let him eat." But if a man's slaves obey him he can eat without working. There is no suggestion of communism in St. Paul's writings. If all the 'property passages' in the epistles are collected and read in connection with their contexts two facts come into prominence, First: Property institutions as such have only a relative validity. They are not viewed as ends valuable in themselves but are subordinated to religious ends, and the concept of an immediately imminent second advent lies at the base of this relative valuation.[3] Second: Economic arrangements of the existing social order, like similar political arrangements, are to be strictly conformed to, in spite of their merely relative validity, for fear of jeopardizing the more important religious movement.[4] St. Paul whether consciously or not, is, in regard to social institutions, an evolutionary revolutionist. He would doubtless have been the first to admit that his doctrine of human brotherhood, for example, would eventually overthrow his doctrine of slavery, supposing--as there is no ground for thinking he did suppose--that time enough elapsed for his doctrine of brotherhood to permeate the general social consciousness. In so far as property concepts are concerned it would probably be difficult to maintain that there is any essential divergence between the teachings of St. Paul and some at least of the teachings of Christ. St. Paul was by nature an ecclesiastical statesman. He seems to have taken such of Christ's property concepts as served his purposes and ignored the others. In the epistle of St. James are to be found very bitter complaints as to the working of property institutions. These complaints are so serious as to suggest the inevitable attempt to make over the institutions and the fact that no such attempt is indicated is due to the manifestly lively expectation of the second advent. Yet even so it was necessary for the writer to council patience to his brethren.[5] In the Revelation there is a passage, xviii, 12 seq., quite in the manner of the most violent of the ancient prophets or the modern anarchists. In this passage property is conceived as evil and the destruction of civilization as it then was, is conceived as a cause of rejoicing to saints, apostles, and prophets. On the other hand the New Jerusalem in the same book[6] is a 'wholesale jewelers paradise' and involves the property concepts of those cities of Asia Minor who did most of the jewelry manufacturing of the Roman Empire. It is very doubtful how far anything in such a description can be said to embody property concepts but the ideal put forth is the communistic enjoyment of incredible luxury. The epistle of Clement of Rome has only incidental references to property. They can be well summed up in the quotation:[7] "Let the rich man provide for the wants of the poor; and let the poor man bless God, because He hath given him one by whom his need may be supplied." There is manifestly no question of tampering with received property institutions and concepts on the part of the writer of such a sentence. It is equally evident that such an attitude in regard to property is eminently well calculated to enable the holder to propagate specifically theological opinions with a minimum of interested opposition. The Didache holds a naïve and touching communistic creed.[8] "Thou shalt not turn away from him that hath need but shalt share all things with thy brother and shalt not say that they are thine own." This passage, the only one on the subject in the Didache, would seem to indicate that the institution of private property existed as a matter of fact in the writer's community, but that the validity of it was not acknowledged. The position may perhaps be called one of conceptual and constructive communism. The Epistle of Barnabas holds exactly the same view in almost exactly the same words:[9] "Thou shalt communicate to thy neighbor all that thou hast, thou shalt not call anything thine own." Early in the second century we come upon the Ebionites who in the matter of property held very strong views.[10] The stricter of them made poverty a condition of salvation. They refused to acknowledge the validity of the concept property--that is in theory. In practice some of them seem to have been influenced by the doctrine and practice of the Essenes in regard to communism. All through the second century we find a continuous succession of heretical sects, Gnostics and others, who held either the doctrine of the wickedness of property-ownership as such, 'holy poverty,' or else objected to individual ownership of property and preached or practiced communism in such degree as might be possible under the circumstances. Of these sects it is sufficient to name the Marcionites 110 A.D. The Carpocratians 135 A.D. The Procidians 160 A.D.(?) The Basilidians 138 A.D. It is evident that there was in progress in the second century an ascetic movement which later took on the forms of Manichaeism and Christian asceticism. The Church consistently opposed all these sects and maintained the validity of private property without condemning communism as such, except in extreme cases, such as that of Epiphanes of Alexandria, a Carpocriation, who in a book on Justice, 125 A.D., defined virtue as consisting in absolute communism of goods and women. To return to orthodox Christianity, Hermas shows very clearly the inconsistencies which beset Christian theory and practice in the first half of the second century. All who are rich must be deprived of their wealth in order to be good Christians.[11] Yet this deprivation of wealth must be only relative; there must be wealth enough left for the giving of alms.[12] There is no trace of communism in Hermas and no praise of poverty as such. The chief justification for the existence of property institutions would seem to be that they are social structures which can be utilized for the giving and receiving of alms. Perhaps one paragraph is worth quoting as giving possibly the earliest formulation extant of the property concepts that finally became dominant. "The rich man has much wealth but is poor in matters relating to the Lord because he is distracted about his riches and he offers very few confessions and intercessions to the Lord and those which he does offer are small and weak, and have no power above. But when the rich man refreshes the poor and assists him in his necessities, believing that which he does to the poor man will be able to find its reward with God--because the poor man is rich in intercessions and confession and his intercession has great power with God--then the rich man helps the poor in all things without hesitation; and the poor man, being helped by the rich, intercedes for him, giving thanks to God for him who bestows gifts upon him. And he still continues earnestly to interest himself for the poor man, that his want may be constantly supplied. For he knows that the intercession of the poor man is acceptable and influential with God. Both accordingly accomplish their work. The poor man makes intercession; a work in which he is rich, which he received from the Lord, and with which he recompenses the master who helps him. And the rich man in like manner, unhesitatingly bestows upon the poor man the riches which he received from the Lord. And this is a great work and acceptable before God, because he understands the object of his wealth and has given to the poor of the gifts of the Lord and rightly discharged his service to Him."[13] The inconsistent and irreconcilable nature of the evidence about early Christian property institutions is well illustrated in Justin Martyr. Two short extracts are sufficient for the purpose. "We who valued above all things the acquisition of wealth and possessions, now bring what we have into a common stock and communicate to every one in need."[14] "We carry on us all we possess and share everything with the poor."[15] The second of these passages would indicate that the first is not to be taken in a too literal and comprehensive sense. It may perhaps be ventured as an opinion that the truth of the matter, as regards the Christians of whom Justin wrote, is that the concept of private property was largely invalidated and that personal possessions were thought of as owned in common while the 'common stock' consisted in reality of contributions--it may be large contributions--given for the relief of necessity among the members. The account preserved to us in Lucian of the Christian communities of Judea in the later half of the second Century would seem to bear out this opinion. Lucian says: "The activity of these people in dealing with any matter that affects their community is something extraordinary. They spare no trouble, no expense. Peregrine all this time was making quite an income on the strength of his bondage. Money came pouring in. You see these misguided creatures start with the general conviction that they are immortal for all time, which explains the contempt of death and voluntary self devotion which are so common among them and then it was impressed upon them by their original law giver that they are all brothers from the moment that they are converted and deny the gods of Greece and worship the crucified sage and live after his laws. All this they take quite on trust with the result that they despise all worldly goods alike, regarding them merely as common property."[16] In Tertullian we find the same contradiction as regards private ownership and communism which has already been noted in Justin. The contradiction is more glaring, but possibly the explanation of the real situation is similar. The following two extracts from the same chapter bring this contradiction out in high relief: "Family possessions which generally destroy brotherhood among you, create fraternal bonds among us. One in mind and soul, we do not hesitate to share our earthly goods with one another. All things are common among us but our wives." "On the monthly collection day, if he likes, each puts in a small donation; but only if it be his pleasure and only if he be able, for there is no compulsion, all is voluntary."[17] Tertullian was a Montanist and one of the most serious charges made against the Montanists was that some of their prophets received interest on money loaned by them.[18] Tertullian is above suspicion in this respect. He demonstrates by quotations from both the Old and New Testaments that it is absolutely contradictory to Christianity. Interest on money is the only property institution in regard to which the teaching of the early Church is consistent. Every reference we have in regard to this practice condemns it--not mildly as a venial offense--but fiercely and savagely as a heinous crime like incest or murder. "Fenerare est hominem occidere" is a favorite formula. In this respect the most pronounced apologists of private wealth like Clement of Alexandria are in perfect accord with the most pronounced communists like Tertullian. The only difference to be noted is one of emphasis. In the earlier writers there are relatively few references to interest, which may perhaps be due to the fact that in the earlier time there were relatively few Christians possessed of surplus means requiring investment. As might naturally be expected, the writers of the period after the establishment of Christianity as a legal religion make more frequent and more bitter reference to the matter. The vehemence of denunciation indulged in by these later writers almost exceeds credibility. The most improbable and strained exegesis is resorted to in an effort to explain away the words of Christ in the parables of the pounds and talents. But this vehemence is by no means confined to the Nicene and post-Nicene fathers. So statesmanlike a bishop as Cyprian, in a long railing accusation against certain opposition bishops brings forth as their final sin that they had "multiplied gain by usury."[19] Usury is not to be taken, of course, in its present sense of excessive or burdensome interest and it is evident that Cyprian did not use it in such a sense. He is simply condemning interest as such. In the minds of the early Christians the difference between taking five percent interest or fifty percent was exactly the same as the difference between stealing one dollar or ten. The sin was essentially the same irrespective of the particular amount involved. Indeed this comparison is scarcely a valid one; for taking interest was conceived as a much worse sin than plain robbery. It is perhaps worth noting that the moral distinction between interest and usury is of very late development. The credit, if it be such, of making it, is to be ascribed to Calvin and is not unconnected with the predilection of certain types of pecuniary interest for that reformer's system of ecclesiastical polity. The Roman law did indeed fix a maximum legal rate of interest, varying at different times and even at the same time for different forms of commercial risk. During the first three centuries A.D. it was, for example, consistently twelve percent on ships and varied from six to twelve percent on other forms of investment. But this has little moral connotation. Early Christian condemnation of interest on loans was by no means confined to the expression of opinion by church writers. Council after council legislated against it with ever increasing severity. The forty-fourth Apostolic Canon prohibited the practice to clerics. The Council of Elvira 310 A.D. forbade it to both clerics and laity. The Council of Arles 314 A.D. provided that clerics guilty of the practice should be deposed from the ministry. The seventeenth canon of the Council of Nicea 325 A.D. provided that they should be excommunicated. The penalty is reiterated in the twelfth canon of the First Council of Carthage 345 A.D. There is no need to continue the list. It is sufficient to say that nearly every council whose canons have come down to us has legislation against interest. Again and again it is absolutely forbidden to clergy and laity alike under the severest ecclesiastical penalties--and it is necessary to remember that after 325 A.D. these penalties could, if need be, be enforced by governmental authority. This attitude of the early Church toward interest on loans is a matter of very considerable historical importance. Although, as we shall endeavor to show later, the ecclesiastical laws were frequently and largely evaded, they still had such influence that their contribution to the sum of economic forces which accomplished the overthrow of ancient civilization is by no means an insignificant one. Nor did the influence of this attitude cease at the fall of Rome. It rather increased thereafter and for several centuries, the so-called "Dark Ages," civilization was strangled by the power of this idea of the sin of usury. To this day the Roman Church regards interest on money as a reprehensible thing which, however, is not, for practical reasons, to be spoken of as sinful by the clergy.[20] This attitude has been no inconsiderable factor in the relatively late industrial development in Catholic countries. The early Christian concept of interest was not an idea original with Christianity. It was not derived from Christ at all. It was taken over bodily from Old Testament Judaism and contemporary pagan philosophy. It is a well known fact that the views of Plato and Aristotle, of Cicero and Seneca on interest, correspond in a very astonishing way to the views of Deuteronomy and Isaiah, of the Psalms and Ezekiel. The strength of the concept in the early Church was due to this fact. In regard to no other concept was there such a unanimity of opinion. The Christian convert found that the sacred scriptures of his new faith confirmed in the strongest language the condemnation of interest which he had become familiar with from the writings of the noblest pagan philosophers. When reason and religion were in accord it is not wonderful that their judgment was accepted--as a theory. In spite of this union of pagan philosophers and Hebrew prophets, of Christian Fathers and Ecclesiastical Canons, the condemnation and prohibition of interest on money was a theory only. A very ordinary knowledge of classical civilization is sufficient to explain the reason of this. More nearly than any other institution, the financial machinery of antiquity corresponds to that of modern life. Trusts and millionaires were phenomena of their economic life as of ours. Banks were numerous and ubiquitous. They were of all sizes and degrees; from the great metropolitan corporation with correspondents all over the civilized world, to the hated money lender in a shabby office on a side street. The great bankers were men of the first importance in society. From their number were regularly recruited the officials of the imperial treasury. They were almost without exception men of the strictest financial integrity. The Roman banking laws protected the depositor more securely than the laws of any modern nation, and these Roman laws were rigidly enforced. Every banking institution had to obtain government authorization in order to do business and this authorization was withdrawn on the discovery of the smallest discrepancy in the accounts. The regular rate of interest on ordinary deposits was four percent; under certain peculiar conditions the rate went as low as two and a half and as high as six percent. The rate published by a bank had to be paid even though payment swept away the banker's entire private property. The banker lost everything before the depositor lost anything. The banks were used by the government in carrying out such fiscal measures as could not be conveniently handled by the treasury department directly. They played a still more important part in the ordinary commercial life of the times. A relatively small volume of business was, or could be, carried on by transfers of specie. The great bulk of commercial transactions were of necessity carried on by checks, drafts, discounts, bills of exchange and similar instruments of credit. It was a matter of simple impossibility for any man in ordinary commercial or industrial life to carry on his business for even a single day without participating directly or indirectly in transactions involving loans and interest. Our excuse for reciting these commonplace details of Roman commercial life is that their very commonplaceness explains the discrepancy between early Christian theory and practice in the matter of interest. It would be an easy task to convict the early Christians of hypocritical pretense in this regard. Nothing more would be necessary than to print their theory in one column and their practice in a parallel one. Yet the early Christians were not hypocrites. As regards sincerity of profession they compare very favorably with any religionists of any age. As a matter of fact the historians have long ago shown that it is altogether impossible and unjust to argue from a sect's opinions to their feelings and actions. To quote Macauley[21] "Only imagine a man acting for one single day on the supposition that all his neighbors believe all that they profess or act up to all that they believe. Imagine a man acting on the supposition that he may safely offer the deadliest injuries and insults to everybody who says that revenge is sinful; or that he may safely intrust all his property without security to any person who says it is wrong to steal. Such a character would be too absurd for the wildest farce." "The law which is inscribed on the walls of the synagogues prohibits covetousness. But if we were to say that a Jew mortgagee would not foreclose because God had commanded him not to covet his neighbor's house, everybody would think us out of our wits."[22] Yet that Jew is no hypocrite in his religion. He is sincerely and honestly devoted to his faith and will sacrifice time and money; will undergo social obloquy and contempt in support of it. So it was with the early Christians. By the process of abstracting their theory and practice of interest from the social matrix which alone makes the theory or practice intelligible, it is easy to show a logical inconsistency. It would be equally foolish and false to deduce from this inconsistency any conclusions one way or the other as to early Christian morality. It is if course no aim of this thesis to attack or defend any religious or moral opinions. It is a matter entirely apart from our present concern to evaluate interest or non-interest in ethical terms. Our purpose is not to explain away the inconsistency of the early Christians. Admitting the inconsistency in the fullest degree, our aim is to explain it as natural, and, under the social conditions then prevailing, practically inevitable. The early Christians left funds to care in perpetuity for the family burial lot.[23] Under any religious creed; Pagan, Jewish, or Christian, decent provision for the care of graves of relatives was not only admissible, it was a positive demand of social reputability; to say nothing of the demand of natural affection. Similarly annual agapes were established by bequests as a charity to the poor brethren.[24] These agapes were no innovation. As an institution they were perfectly familiar and in universal observance among the pagans. The agapes were simply ordinary Roman silicernia with the name changed. To the Romans, founding a silicernium was like wearing a toga or going to a bath. It possessed the sanction of law and the benediction of religion; but its real compulsion lay in social custom. No person could escape this pressure of the mores and retain self respect, to say nothing of the respect of others. The pagan silicernium was morally respectable; it perpetuated friendship and promoted good feeling. There was no reason for avoiding it, if avoidance had been possible--as it was not. The Christians not only preserved this pious institution; they improved it. Their annual agapes fed the poor, which the silicernia, excellent as they were, seldom did. The explanation we have endeavored to give of the endowment of family burial lots and annual agapes is applicable, mutis mutandis, to other cases of interest. It therefore is not surprising to learn that Callixtus (pope 218-223 A.D.) was a banker previous to his elevation to the papacy; that large numbers of Christians, particularly widows and orphans--entrusted their money to his bank, and that he had large loans out at good interest to Jewish bankers.[25] The truth is that the early Christian horror of interest, while absolutely honest and even desperately sincere, was a strictly legalistic, ceremonial, and ritualistic horror. It was purely formal and was not at all concerned with any economic principle. The thing that was wicked, was not income from capital invested, but income _in the form of interest on money_. To own a ship and sail it and make profits from ownership by freight charges was perfectly honest, but to invest money in a shipping corporation and receive dividends was wicked. So it was honest to own a building and get money as rent. It was immoral to invest money in the construction company that erected that building and receive income in the form of interest. Rent, profit, and interest are merely three forms of the same thing, income from invested capital. Any endeavor to distinguish between them in this respect is entirely devoid of moral or economic justification. The ancient Church fathers were as well aware of this as we are. The real point and importance of their concept of interest was their defense of that concept. That defense was a curious one and illustrates the difference between ancient and modern reasoning on economic matters--and on other matters also. The difference in a word is that of mistaking means for ends on the theory of course that we moderns are right and the prophets, philosophers, Christian fathers, et al. wrong. According to modern social science, interest is merely a means adopted for the attainment of certain ends--economic, educational, religious or whatever. The goodness or badness of interest is to be judged strictly and solely by the convenience and economy with which it serves these ends. If any other property institution can, in a given situation, serve a given end more easily and more cheaply than the institution of interest, then, in that situation, the institution of interest--other things being equal--is immoral and should be abolished. If, in the given situation, no other property institution can serve the given end more easily and more cheaply than the institution of interest, then that institution is moral and should be retained. That is, from the modern sociological point of view, the institution of interest is inconceivable except as a means to some end outside itself. As a means it is to be judged in a purely objective and pragmatic manner by the ordinary standards of cost price, economic, social, and other. The method of the ancients is entirely otherwise. Assuming still the correctness of the modern viewpoint, which viewpoint be it said is not unassailable and indeed is assailed by divers radicals, socialists and others, but for the most part persons lacking in pecuniary reputability; the mistake then, that the Early Church fathers make is that of taking the means for an end. They have many arguments against interest but all these arguments can be criticised for this one error. The fathers elevate interest to the dignity of an end in itself. Interest, qua interest, is condemned. It is taking advantage of a brother's necessity. It is grinding the face of the poor. It is producing pride, luxury, and vice. As soon as moral value is attached to anything, it of course, is viewed as an end in itself. If it be true that interest is an end in itself, then the fiercest diatribes of the fathers are none too severe. Assuming their premises, their conclusions follow inevitably. The modern man--he is not unknown--who talks about the "sacred rights" of private property is guilty of the same error as the ancient Christians, the error of mistaking means for ends. The early Christians could not see that the property institution of interest is neither good nor bad except as it is good or bad _for something_. The _something_ determines the judgment. As a matter of historical fact the condemnation of interest developed in certain early stages of human civilization and at those stages interest was socially detrimental. At those stages, however, it was exceedingly rare and correspondingly infamous. In any country where there is abundance of good, free land the phenomenon of interest on money will disappear, provided labor is free. So it disappeared in the northern states of this Union in the later part of the 18th century. These phenomena caused the southerners to adopt slavery though all their English traditions had declared it immoral for more than three centuries. The relation of interest to slavery under a condition of free land is the relation of cause and effect, i.e., the requirement of interest will produce slavery and the abolition of interest will abolish slavery.[26] These social phenomena are of importance in our consideration of the early Christian doctrine of interest. That doctrine was largely evaded and disobeyed but it still had great effect and that effect was toward the abolition of slavery. We do not mean that this economic doctrine alone resulted in the abolition of slavery, or even that it was a chief cause in the abolition of slavery, it was not obeyed well enough to be such a chief cause; but so far as it was obeyed, it tended in that direction. The net result of all Christian teaching together was to prolong the existence of the institution of slavery for two centuries, perhaps for three. The doctrine of the sinfulness of interest however, worked toward emancipation and forced slavery in its later end to become almost wholly agricultural, i.e., to yield income as rent. Slaves cannot be employed in commerce or industry in sufficient numbers to be profitable where the institution of interest is banned as it was in the 'dark ages.' The Christian concept of interest undermined ancient civilization by abrogating, slowly but surely, the institution of property by which such gangs of 'manufacturing slaves' as made the fortune of Crassus, could alone be made profitable. It is an historical curiosity that it accomplished this result without any attack on the institution of slavery itself. As soon as Christian doctrines became widespread enough to produce important social results we find Christian slave owners manumitting their slaves in considerable numbers. It is no derogation to the influence of the doctrine of human brotherhood or to the humanity of the Christian slave owners to mention the fact that the doctrine of the sinfulness of interest, by tending to make slavery unprofitable, aided in the process of bringing to light the real content of the doctrine of human brotherhood, and of making the humane practice of manumission easier by the removal of certain economic impediments. In order to understand properly the working of the prohibition of interest and its relation to manumission, it is necessary to carry the analysis one step farther to its ultimate physical basis, which was the conditioning factor of actual practice and eventually of theory also. The exhaustion of the soil of western Europe which was the result of ancient methods of agriculture, together with the rising standard of living and the competition of other more fertile agricultural regions like Egypt and North Africa resulted in the substitution of the latifundi for small landholdings.[27] As the pressure continued the latifundi in turn became economically unprofitable under forced labor (slavery) and large tracts of land were abandoned. In order to put this land under agriculture again the charge upon it had to be reduced by the substitution of (relatively) free associated labor, villeinage or serfdom. But this change cut off the economic margin upon which the structure of ancient civilization was built and is the ultimate economic reason assignable for the fall of Rome. Of course the collapse of the empire could, theoretically, have been avoided had the Romans of the first three centuries A.D. been content to live the toilsome and frugal life of the Romans of the early republic. But this was an utter impossibility in practice. This slowly working and hardly understood decline in the relative and actual ability of ancient agriculture to sustain the weight imposed upon it, enables us to see why the sinfulness of interest could be steadily indoctrined even though steadily evaded, by Christians from the beginning, while manumission was not taught at all in the beginning and only worked up to the dignity of a pious action relatively late.[28] It also explains why manumission of household and personal slaves preceded that of agricultural slaves. Of course there is nothing peculiarly Christian about this later phenomenon and the operation of other causes is discernable, but it is important for our purpose to observe that Christian practice, and Christian theory in property matters in the long run, followed the broad lines of the underlying economic evolution.[29] The application of this to the origin of Christian monasticism and to the revival of communistic theories by the later Church fathers lies at the very outside limit of our study but will be briefly touched on after we have considered the final overthrow of the communistic property concept as they appear in the earlier fathers up to and including Tertullian. Clement of Alexandria 153-217 A.D. has the distinction of being the first Christian theological writer who clearly expounds the concept of private property which has held sway without substantial change in the Church until the present time. This statement does not apply to the doctrine of receiving interest on money. In respect to this doctrine Clement is in perfect accord with all other early Christians both before and after himself. Indeed he specifically states that the Mosaic prohibition against taking interest from one's brother extends in the case of a Christian to all mankind. But in regard to all other property institutions Clement's attitude is essentially that of any modern Christian of generous disposition. In all that Clement has to say about property, and the 'bulk' of his 'property passages' is as great as that of all previous Christian writers together, he speaks like a man on the defensive. Indeed there has come down to us no other Christian writing earlier than his time which presents his view, with the dubious exception of some passages in Hermas. The fact seems to be that while Clement is undoubtedly presenting an apologetic for the existing practice in the Church of his day, that practice was felt to be more or less open to attack in the light of certain scripture passages. Communism as an existential reality was gone by the time of Clement--whatever may have been the extent--probably a limited one--to which it had existed in the earlier ages. But while communism as a fact was dead, communism as an idea or ideal of Christian economy was not dead. Indeed Clement's views about the morality of wealth were so different from those of previous writers that a great modern economist[30] in treating of this subject ventures the opinion, though doubtfully, that the reason why Clement, alone among the great early theologians, was never canonized by the Church was that he ran counter to popular belief on this subject. This opinion is probably erroneous. Clement's theological opinions have a semi-Gnostic tinge quite sufficient to explain the absence of his name from the calendar of saints. Clement justifies the institution of private property. He justifies, on the highest ethical and philosophical principles, the possession by Christians of even the most enormous wealth. His apologetic is not an original one. He borrows it bodily from Plato. Indeed he quotes Plato verbatim, invocation to Pan and the other heathen gods included.[31] The originality lies in applying this Platonic doctrine to the exposition of Christian scripture. Clement's method is strictly that of Biblical exegesis. In the well known sermon or essay on: "Who is the Rich Man that shall be saved" he takes up practically all of the scriptural passages which seem opposed to the institutions of private property and explains them in so modern a spirit that the whole sermon might be delivered today in any ordinary Church and would be readily accepted as sound and reliable doctrine. His thesis is that wealth or poverty are matters in themselves indifferent. That riches are not to be bodily gotten rid of, but are to be wisely conserved and treated as a stewardship intrusted to the owner by God. That charity to the poor should be in proportion to one's wealth and that a right use of wealth will secure salvation to the upright Christian even though he possesses great riches all his life and leaves them to his heirs. The wealth that is dangerous to the soul is not physical possessions, but spiritual qualities of greed and avarice. His views can be best expressed by himself. We give two characteristic passages from the sermon above referred to.[32] "Rich men that shall with difficulty enter into the kingdom, is to be apprehended in a scholarly way, not awkwardly, or rustically, or carnally. For if the expression is used thus, salvation does not depend upon external things, whether they be many or few, small or great, or illustrious or obscure or esteemed or disesteemed; but on the virtue of the soul, on faith and hope and love and brotherliness, and knowledge, and meekness and humility and truth the reward of which is salvation." "Sell thy possessions. What is this? He does not, as some off hand conceive, bid him throw away the substance he possesses and abandon his property; but he bids him banish from his soul his notions about wealth, his excitement and morbid feeling about it, the anxieties, which are the thorns of existence which choke the seed of life. And what peculiar thing is it that the new creature, the Son of God intimates and teaches? It is not the outward act which others have done, but something else indicated by it, greater, more godlike, more perfect, the stripping off of the passions from the soul itself and from the disposition, and the cutting up by the roots and casting out of what is alien to the mind." "One, after ridding himself of the burden of wealth, may none the less have still the lust and desire for money innate and living; and may have abandoned the use of it, but being at once destitute of and desiring what he spent may doubly grieve both on account of the absence of attendance and the presence of regret."[33] We have now come to the beginning of what is in many respects the most interesting period in the history of property concepts. It is a period in which everything is upside down and wrong end to. In that strange age we find a famous archbishop, one of the world's noblest orators, a man of the most spotless integrity and the most saintly life, publicly preaching in the foremost pulpit of Christendom doctrines of property, the implications of which, the most hardened criminal would scarcely venture to breathe to a gang of thieves.[34] We find the most learned scholar of the century, in the weightiest expositions of Christian Scripture, penning the most powerful apologetic of anarchy that is to be found in the literature of the world.[35] We find one of the greatest of the popes, a man whose genius as a statesman will go down to the latest ages of history, setting forth in a manual for the instruction of Christian bishops, property concepts more radical than those of the fiercest Jacobins in the bloodiest period of the Terror.[36] Stranger still, these incredible performances are the strongest proofs of the wisdom and piety of the men responsible for them. These men are today honored as the saviors of civilized religion and their images in bronze and marble and painted glass adorn the proudest temples of the most conservative denominations of Christians. The strange history of these famous men: Athanasius, the two Gregories, Basil and Chrysostom in the East; Augustine, Ambrose, Jerome and Gregory in the West, lies outside the limits of our study. But the explanation of their desperate and uncompromising communism can be given in a word. It was the communism of crisis: the communism of shipwrecked sailors forced to trust their lives to a frail lifeboat with an insufficient supply of provisions. These great Christian scholars, enriched by all the accumulated culture of their civilization, saw that culture falling into ruin all around them; they felt the foundations of that civilization trembling beneath their feet. To vary the figure, they beheld the rising tide of ignorance and barbarism rapidly engulfing the world and with desperate haste they set to work rebuilding and strengthening the ark of the Church that in it, religion, and so much of civilization as possible, might be saved till the flood subsided. Their task, perhaps the most important and most urgent, that men have ever had to perform, was of such a nature that they cared not what they wrecked in order to accomplish it. They ripped up the floor of the bridal chamber for timber and took the doors of the bank-safe for iron. These rhetorical figures are violent; but they are less violent than the reality they are intended to express. Monasticism was the last desperate hope of civilized Christianity and these men knew it. To establish monasticism they degraded the sanctity of marriage and denounced the sacredness of property. They conferred the most sacred honors upon the lowliest drudgery;[37] they turned princes into plowmen and nobles into breakers of the soil. Some historians, judging them by the different standards of a later age, have pronounced them fanatics led astray by vulgar superstition. But judged by the needs of their own age, judged by the inestimable services rendered to the world by the monastic system they instituted, they are entitled to a place far up in the list of the wisest and the ablest of the human kind. Sketchy and imperfect as the above study necessarily is, it nevertheless gives the primary facts which are essential to an understanding of the important part played by property concepts and property institutions in the transformation of early Christianity from a predominantly eschatological to a practically socialized movement. We have seen,[38] that the earliest generations of Christians took over from contemporary Judaism a strongly Chiliastic eschatology. The logical consequence of such an eschatology is an indifference to, or undervaluation of, the existing social arrangements including the property concepts and institutions. One form easily taken by this indifference and undervaluation is that of practical communism. We accordingly find in the Acts and in such early writings as the Didache and the Epistle of Barnabas a distinctly communistic theory and the traces of more or less effort to put this theory into some degree of practical effect. Chiliasm and communism in these writers go together naturally. Pari passu with this logical, communistic Chiliasm we can trace the development of an illogical, individualistic Chiliasm in St. Paul, Clement of Rome and Hermas. It is already manifest even at this early stage, that the weight of influence and power of control in the Christian societies is on the side of the individualists. This is due to two causes. In the first place the communists among the Christians worked under a great handicap. The underlying economic institutions of society can indeed be changed. But they can be changed--on any considerable scale--only very slowly and by enormous effort. At any attempt to change them a thousand interested and determined antagonists at once arise. It is not too much to say that had all Christians insisted upon communism as an essential element of the Christian faith and practice, Christianity in the Roman world could never have developed into anything more than an unimportant sect. The very fact that Christianity spread as rapidly as it did in the first century of its existence is proof that the communists in the Church made very little headway. It was hard enough to combat pagan religion and philosophy. Had the property institutions been attacked also, the primary religious objects would have been lost sight of in the conflict. In the second place the more practical minded Christian leaders would be antagonistic to a doctrine and practice which alienated many persons who might otherwise be won to the Church, and practically minded persons outside the Church regarded the individualists with more favor and were more easily influenced by them to become Christians themselves. The early importance attained by the Church of Rome is to be largely ascribed to the predominance in its councils of such practical persons.[39] Communism had no hold there at all and Chiliasm was never allowed to interfere with the practical workings of society. By the time of Justin the three concepts; Chiliasm, Communism, and Individualism had arrived at a modus vivendi. According to this arrangement Chiliasm and Communism held sway as theories while individualism ruled in the world of fact. This agreement proved very satisfactory and for more than half a century was the accepted thing. It is seen in full force in Tertullian. There is a general tendency, due to the natural effects of use and disuse, for theories which do not correspond to realities to become discredited, even as theories. Conversely realities which at first lack theoretical justification tend to accumulate such justification with the lapse of time. It is therefore not surprising to find by the beginning of the Third Century, a movement to discard theoretical Chiliasm and communism and to validate by theoretical apologetic the actually existing individualism. These two processes in the nature of the case are closely connected with one another and it is not by mere chance that they find a common exponent in Clement of Alexandria. That famous opponent of Chiliasm is equally well known as the justifier of an extreme individualism. He greatly facilitated the spread of Christian theology by liberating it from the burden of an eschatological theory increasingly hard to reconcile with reality and also by bringing the economic teachings of Christianity into conformity with current practice. As noted above, there was one economic doctrine which neither he nor any other early Christian teacher ever attempted to reconcile with the facts, and it is undoubtedly true that the doctrine of the sinfulness of interest was alike detrimental to the spread of Christianity and to the general well being of society as it then existed. The reasons why this particular reality i.e., interest on money, was so slow in receiving its theoretical justification are numerous. The only ones that need concern us here are that the opposition to be overcome in this case was much more formidable than in the cases of Chiliasm and communism and the fact that this inconsistency on the part of the Christians did not in reality offer any very serious obstacle to the growth of the Church. Communism had no great body of Biblical authority at its back. There are indeed some texts in its favor but there are plenty of an opposite nature. The doctrine had no great popular prejudice in its favor. In addition it was insuperably difficult of realization in fact. It was otherwise with interest. The theoretical prejudice against interest was almost as great among the Jews and Pagans as among the Christians themselves. The Scriptures were unequivocal in their denunciation of it. Furthermore the correlative institutions of rent and profit offered so many opportunities to disguise the fact of interest that it was exceedingly easy to retain the theoretical opposition without ceasing the actual practice. Although Clement's condemnation of interest was probably merely an inherited prejudice it is by no means impossible that he considered that an attempt to justify it would endanger his defense of the more fundamental institution of private property. At any rate his course can be defended as a practical one under the circumstances. Whatever may be said of its consistency, the Christian custom of condemning the theory and winking at the practice of interest worked well. The inconsistency which seems so glaring to us, was probably very largely unperceived by the ancient pagans--they had exactly the same inconsistency themselves. In regard to Chiliasm and property, practically the same attitude prevailed. It worked indeed even more easily. In the West there seems to have been a considerable Chiliastic tradition. So long as this tradition did not result in any practices which interfered with the actual progress of the Church, the Fathers were content to let it alone. It did not, till at least the Third Century, hinder the acceptance of Christian doctrine by the pagans and may even have aided the process among some of the lower classes. Its long survival can be taken as sure proof that it did not effect either the development of the hierarchy or the institution of property. As regards property of man in man, the superior power of the Christian religion to keep slaves in subjection accounts in no small measure for its relatively rapid rise to power in the ancient world. The pagan religion was inferior in usefulness to the Christian religion because it could not keep the slave contented with his position. The next world in the pagan theology was only a worse copy of this world. Christianity, in glaring contrast to paganism, proclaimed that the despised and afflicted were to sit on golden thrones in the next life. The more they were exploited in this life, the brighter their crown in the next one. The pagan slave was dangerous. The whole pre-Christian literature of Classical antiquity shows the ever present fear of a servile outbreak. There were good grounds for that fear. Outbreaks were frequent and of a most ferocious character. On more than one occasion they threatened the very existence of the ancient civilization. Christianity was able to make the slave contented to be a slave. It was economically an enormous advance over paganism. A master whose slaves were Christians was not afraid of being murdered by them. Not only was the master's life secure, his property was secure also. The pagan slaves were notorious thieves. The Christian slave did not rob his master. These facts gave Christianity an enormous leverage in its efforts to force its way into social recognition. It went far toward securing a favorable disposition toward the new religion on the part of the influential, wealthy, and conservative elements in the population. Into the general economic changes which began to operate toward the end of our period it is not our purpose to enter, but it is worth notice that the efforts made by the Church to save itself in the general ruin which overtook the ancient world, chiefly the institution of monasticism, were such as to secure more firmly than ever the hold of the Church upon society. The Church rapidly became an economic factor of the first importance. The only secure basis of lasting social influence is economic. Christianity by teaching the virtues of honesty, frugality, simplicity, and charity laid the foundations of her subsequent triumph, and when she had great societies of men and women working hard and living plainly and adding all their accumulations to institutions belonging to the Church and directly under the supervision and control of the ecclesiastical authority, the Church paved the way for her subsequent domination of the civil government. Monastic communism, being economically superior to Chiliastic Communism, inevitably superseded it. FOOTNOTES: [1] Cf. Plato, Laws, V, 742. Aristotle, Politics, 1:X, XI. Cicero, De Officus, II, XXV. Seneca, De Beneficus, VII, X. [2] Acts IV. [3] I. Cor. vii 30. [4] Rom. xiii 3. [5] Jas. Chap. V. [6] Chaps. 21-22. [7] Chap. xxxviii. [8] Did. IV. 8. [9] Barn. XIV. 16. [10] Schaff, Vol. 1. [11] Past. V. vi. 6. [12] Past. S. IX. XXX. 5. [13] Past III. 2. [14] Apol. I. IV. [15] Apol. I. xiv. [16] De Mort. Per. XIV. [17] Apol. XXXIX. [18] Eus., E. H., V. 18. [19] De Lapsis, VI. [20] See Pronouncement of the Sacred Penitentiary, 11 Feb., 1832. [21] Sir James Macintosh. [22] Civil Disabilities of the Jews. [23] Lourie, Monuments of the Early Church, Chap. II. [24] Lourie, _ibid._ [25] Cf. Hypolytus. [26] A. Loria. Cf. Economic Basis of Society. (Int.) [27] Cf. A. Loria, Economic Foundations of Society. (Int.) [28] Circa 200(?). [29] Cf. K. Marx, Das Kapital, Vol. 1. [30] F. Nitti in Catholic Socialism. [31] Phaedus, The Laws, in Strom. II, 6. [32] Chap. XIV. [33] Chap. XXXI. [34] Chrysostom, Sermons Rich Man and Lazarus, etc. [35] Jerome, Commentaries. [36] Gregory, Pastoralis Cura. [37] Laborare est orare. [38] Chap. I. [39] E.g., Clement and Hermas. CHAPTER III THE EARLY CHURCH AND THE POPULACE The transformation of early Christianity from an eschatological to a socialized movement was the result of the interaction of three social groups--three 'publics'--the Jewish, the Pagan, and the Christian. It was a single movement, working itself out through these three 'crowds'. Christianity, like all other great religions, was in its first beginnings essentially a mob phenomenon--that is to say it was a very slow movement which had a long history back of it. Perhaps no current opinion is more unfounded than the notion that mob movements are sudden and unpredictable. They are almost incredibly slow of development. The range of action found in the mob is more narrowly and rigidly circumscribed than in almost any other social group. A crowd is open to suggestions that are in line with its previous experience, and to no others. The initial success of Christ with the Jewish crowds was only possible because for generations the whole Jewish public had been looking forward to a Messiah and a Messianic kingdom. In so far as Christ appeared to fulfill this preconceived expectation he gained popular support. When he disappointed it, he lost his popularity and his life. The early and enormous success of the apostles on the day of Pentecost and immediately afterwards was due primarily to the fact that the Chiliastic expectation preached to the Jerusalem crowds was very closely in line with their inherited beliefs. As soon as Christianity began to develop doctrines and practices even slightly at variance with those traditional to Judaism it lost the support of the Jewish public. Beginning as a strictly Jewish sect, it alienated practically the whole Jewish race within little more than a generation. This alienation was the inevitable effect of an idea of universalism opposed to the hereditary Jewish nationalism. This idea of universalism was not a new thing. It was to be found in the ancient Jewish scriptures. But it had never become popularized. It formed no part of the content of contemporary public opinion among the Jews. Christianity met with success in the great cosmopolitan centers, like Antioch and Alexandria, where universalism was a tradition and had become a part of the crowd sentiment. It succeeded best of all in Rome where universalism reached its highest development. Yet even here a limitation is to be noted. Christianity was universal in its willingness to receive people of all races and nations. It was not universal in its willingness to acknowledge the validity of other religions. This variation from the traditional Greek and Roman universalism had momentous results. It made the propagation of the Christian Gospel much more difficult and involved the church, at least temporarily, in the current syncretism which was a popular movement. So e.g., we find Justin calling Socrates a Christian and asserting that the stories of Noah and Deucalion are merely versions of the same event. The main characteristics of crowd psychology are familiar enough. Crowds do not reason. They accept or reject ideas as a whole. They are governed by phrases, symbols, and shibboleths. They tolerate neither discussion nor contradiction. The suggestions brought to bear on them invade the whole of their understanding and tend to transform themselves into acts. Crowds entertain only violent and extreme sentiments and they unconsciously accord a mysterious power to the formula or leader that for the moment arouses their enthusiasm. Any movement in order to become popular, in order to 'get over' to the general public, has to operate within the limits set by this psychology. The amount of change, adaptation, and development necessary before a movement can fit into these limitations and express itself powerfully within them is so considerable that no historical example can probably be found where the required accommodation has been accomplished in less than three generations. It is the purpose of this chapter to trace, so far as the surviving source material permits, the steps of this accommodation in the case of early Christianity. For some time before Christ the Jewish people had been restless. Their desires and aspirations for national and religious greatness had been repressed and inhibited. The unrest thus generated took various forms; patriotic uprisings, religious revivals, etc. Christ was at first considered merely as another Theudas or Judas of Galilee or John the Baptist. In the pagan world the pax Romana produced a somewhat similar restlessness. Travel increased; wandering, much of it aimless, characterized whole classes of people;[1] there was a marked increase in crime, vice, insanity, and suicide which alarmed all the moralists. This condition of affairs was eminently suitable for the first beginnings of a crowd movement; indeed no great crowd movement can begin except under such circumstances. The wanderings of St. Paul and the other Christians apostles--called missionary journeys--were really only particular cases of a general condition. The same organic demand for new stimulation, the same sense of shattered religious and philosophic ideals prevailed in the pagan as in the Jewish world. It would be hard to find a greater contrast of character than Christ and Lucian. Yet the fiery earnestness with which Christ denounces contemporary Jewish religiosity and the cool cynicism with which Lucian mocks at the pagan piety of the same age have a like cause. Economic pressure on the lower strata of society contributed to the unrest. The slave, the small shopkeeper, and the free artisan had a hard time of it in the Roman world. Economically oppressed classes are material ready to the hand of the agitator, religious or other. In the crowd movements recorded in the Acts we can trace the first beginnings of the Christian populace.[2] "In Iconium a great multitude both of Jews and of Greeks believed but the Jews that were disobedient stirred up the souls of the Gentiles and made them evil affected against the brethren. But the multitude of the city was divided and part held with the Jews and part with the apostles." At Lytra there was a typical case of mob action where the apostles were first worshipped and then stoned. In the cases of the mobs at Philippi and Ephesus we see the economic motive, the threatened loss of livelihood, entering along with anger at an attack on the received religion. In the case of the Jerusalem and Athenian crowds we see acceptance, or at least acquiescence, on the part of the crowd up to the point where Christianity breaks with their tradition. In general we see anger on the part of the crowds only after agitation deliberately stirred up by interested parties; priests, sorcerers, craftsmen or the like. Generally speaking the antipathy is no part of the crowd psychology, and on occasion the crowd may be on the side of the missionaries of the new religion. In general also the Christians were not sufficiently numerous to make a counter crowd demonstration of their own. In Pliny's letter to Trojan, although it is a generation later than the Acts and refers to a region where Christianity had been preached for a considerable period of time, we find a marked instability in the attitude of the public: "Many of every age, every rank and even of both sexes are brought into danger and will be in the future. The contagion of that superstition has penetrated not only the cities but also the villages and country places and yet it seems possible to stop it and set it right. At any rate it is certain enough that the temples deserted until quite recently begin to be frequented, that the ceremonies of religion, long disused, are restored and that fodder for the victims comes to market, whereas buyers for it were until now very few. From this it may easily be supposed that a multitude of men can be reclaimed if there be a place of repentence."[3] There seems no reasonable ground for doubting that Pliny's judgment was correct. While the blood of the martyrs is doubtless the seed of the church, a continuous, general, and relentless persecution can extirpate a religion in a given nation; as the history of the Inquisition abundantly proves. Still more easily can propaganda for the older religion win back its former adherents of the first and second generations. It is not, in general, till a generation has grown up entirely inside a new religion that such a religion is well established. The generation which at maturity makes the rupture with the older faith can be brought back to it by less expenditure of energy than was expended by them in breaking away in the first place. The success of the Jesuits e.g., is quite inexplicable on any other hypothesis. The generation who are children at the time their parents make the break with the old religion are notoriously undependable in the religious matters. It was in all probability these people that Pliny had to deal with. It is at least permissable to hazard the guess that the Laodiceans who aroused the wrath of the author of the Revelation were of this generation. It is certain that many of the 'Lapsi' who caused so much trouble to Christian apologists and church councils belonged in this chronological class. In Justin Martyr we have a hint of a further development in the crowd attitude toward the Christians. Justin says: "When you (Jews) knew that He had risen from the dead and ascended to heaven as the prophets foretold He would, you not only did not repent of the wickedness you had committed, but at that time you selected and sent out from Jerusalem chosen men through all the land to tell that the godless heresy of the Christians had sprung up and to publish those things which all they, who knew us not, speak against us. So that you are the cause not only of your own unrighteousness but that of all other men."[4] Irrespective of the exact historical accuracy of this statement, it is indicative of the process, technically known as 'circular interaction,' which is so essential a step in the development of popular opinion and the building up of crowd sentiment. Before any group of people can become either popular or unpopular there must be a focusing and fixation of public attention upon them. Even in the new Testament we find the Jews sending emissaries from city to city to call attention to the Christian propaganda. Prejudice against the Christians was thus aroused in persons who had never either seen or heard them. The basis of 'circular interaction' is unconscious or subconscious emotional reaction. A's frown brings a frown to the face of B. B's frown in turn intensifies A's. This simple process is the source of all expressions of crowd emotion. By multiplication of numbers and increase in the stimuli employed it is capable of provoking a vicious circle of feeling which eventually causes individuals in a crowd to do things and feel things which no individual in the crowd would do or feel when outside the circle. It is to the credit or discredit of the Jews that they first set this 'vicious circle' in operation against the Christians. Of course the same psychological principle operated to produce zeal and enthusiasm and contempt of pain and death in the Christian 'crowd'. By this process of 'circular interaction' the name, 'Christian,' had already in the time of Justin become a mob shibboleth. It seems to have operated precisely as the shibboleth 'traitor' operates on a patriotic crowd in war time, or 'scab' on a labor group. It became a shibboleth of exactly opposite significance in the Christian 'crowd'. The way was thus prepared for the next step in the process of developing the ultimate crisis. This step--the disparate 'universe of discourse'--is exhibited in process of formation in the account of the martyrdom of Polycarp. The account, as we have it, undoubtedly contains later additions, but these additions even of miraculous elements, do not necessarily invalidate those portions of the story with which we are alone concerned. The martyrologist certainly had no intention of writing his story for the purpose of illustrating the principles of group psychology and the undesigned and incidental statements of crowd reactions are precisely the ones of value for our purpose. A few brief excerpts are sufficient to illustrate the stage reached in the growth of the disparate 'universe of discourse.' "The whole multitude, marvelling at the nobility of mind displayed by the devout and godly race of Christians cried out: "Away with the Atheists: let Polycarp be sought out."[5] He went eagerly forward with all haste and was conducted to the Stadium where the tumult was so great that there was no possibility of being heard."[6] "Polycarp has confessed that he is Christian. This proclamation having been made by the herald, the whole multitude both of the heathen and Jews who dwelt in Smyrna cried out with uncontrollable fury and in a loud voice: "This is the teacher of Asia, the father of the Christians and the overthrower of our gods, he who has been teaching many not to sacrifice or to worship the gods." Speaking thus they cried out and besought Phillip, the Asiarch, to let loose a lion upon Polycarp. But Philip answered that it was not lawful for him to do so seeing the shows of beasts were already finished. Then it seemed good to them to cry out with one voice that Polycarp should be burned alive."[7] "This then was carried into effect with greater speed than it was spoken, the multitude immediately gathering together wood and fagots out of the shops and baths, the Jews especially, according to custom eagerly assisting them in it."[8] "We afterwards took up his bones, as being more precious than the most exquisite jewels and more purified than gold and deposited them in a fitting place, whither, being gathered together as opportunity is allowed us, with joy and rejoicing the Lord shall grant us to celebrate the anniversary of his martyrdom both in memory of those who have already finished their course and for the exercising and preparation of those yet to walk in their steps."[9] In the disparate universe of discourse in its complete form common shibboleths produce entirely different mental reactions--usually antagonistic ones. There is also complete accord as to the shibboleths. The cry here is at one time against the Atheists, then against the Christians. But the Christians could and did deny the charge of Atheism. They were as antagonistic to Atheism as the Pagans. An incomplete development of crowd feeling is evident on the part of the pagans. The Jews are still the inciters and leading spirits of the mob. The very statement that the Jews acted 'according to custom' shows that mobbing Christians was still looked upon as a peculiarly Jewish trait. It was not yet entirely spontaneous on the part of the pagan public. Most noticeable of all is the indifference of the mob toward the Christians' adoration of relics of the martyrs. No effort was made to prevent the Christians from obtaining the bones of Polycarp. Either the cult of relics was not known to the pagans and Jews--though it seems to be firmly established among the Christians--or else, the effect of the cult in perpetuating Christianity had not yet had time to make itself manifest to the pagan public--or to the Jewish. In any case we have here the plain evidence of the imperfectly developed condition of the crowd mind, owing perhaps to a too short tradition. Our next evidence is the martyrdoms of Lyons and Vienne preserved in a letter quoted by Eusebius. "They (the Christians) endured nobly the injuries inflicted upon them by the populace, clamor and blows and draggings and robberies and stonings and imprisonments and all things which an infuriated mob delight in inflicting on enemies and adversaries."[10] "When these accusations were reported all the people raged like wild beasts against us, so that even if any had before been moderate on account of friendship, they were now exceedingly furious and gnashed their teeth against us. "When he (Bishop Pothinus) was brought to the tribunal accompanied by a multitude who shouted against him in every manner as if he were Christ himself, he bore noble witness. Then he was dragged away harshly and received blows of every kind. Those men near him struck him with their hands and feet, regardless of his age, and those at a distance hurled at him whatever they could seize, all of them thinking that they would be guilty of great wickedness and impiety if any possible abuse were omitted. For thus they thought to avenge their own deities."[11] "But not even thus was their madness and cruelty toward the saints satisfied. Wild and barbarous tribes were not easily appeased and their violence found another peculiar opportunity in the dead bodies. For they cast to the dogs those who had died of suffocation in the prison and they exposed the remains left by the wild beasts and by fire mangled and charred. And some gnashed their teeth against them, but others mocked at them. The bodies of the martyrs having thus in every manner been exposed for six days were afterwards burned and reduced to ashes and swept into the Rhone so that no trace of them might appear on the earth. And this they did as if able to conquer God and prevent their new birth; 'that', as they said, 'they may have no hope of a resurrection through trust in which they bring to us this foreign and new religion.' "[12] We have in this account a marked advance, as regards the development of the mob mind, over what is found in the martyrdom of Polycarp. Many of the 'crowd' phenomena are indeed the same but the differences are even more striking than the similarities. We find in Lyons no body of Jews or other especially interested persons leading the mob on by manifestations of peculiar zeal and forwardness. When the accounts are compared in their entirety it becomes at once manifest that there is a consistency of attitude, a whole heartedness in the actions of the Lyons mob that is lacking in the case of the Syrmnaens. There is a degree of familiarity with Christian doctrine--especially the doctrine of the resurrection--which denotes a much more thorough permeation of the public mind by Christianity. There may be no difference in the hatred of the two mobs for the new faith, but it had more content in the mind of the Gallic crowd. The degree of thought and pains taken by the Lyonese persecutors--the guards placed to prevent the Christians from stealing the relics of the martyrs, the elaborate efforts to nullify the possibility of a resurrection--the very extent and thoroughness and duration of the persecution are different from anything to be found in the other martyrdom. The difficulty to be explained--if it is a difficulty--from the point of view of crowd psychology is that there is difference of only eleven years--taking the ordinary chronology--between the two persecutions. It is true that the Lyons persecution is the later, but the difference in the mob behavior is such as might well demand the lapse of a generation had the phenomena been exhibited by the public of the same city. There must unquestionably have been a great difference in the demotic composition of the populations of Lyons and Smyrna; the reference to barbarians in Lyons shows as much, but the behavior of mobs as controlled by the time needed for the focusing and fixation of attention and the development of a disparate universe of discourse is very little effected by difference of demotic composition. It has indeed been suggested by one critic,[13] that the persecution at Lyons belongs in the reign of Septimus Severus instead of that of Marcus Aurelius. This would explain away the difficulty, but there seems no necessary reason for adopting this opinion. It would rather appear that there existed peculiar conditions in Lyons and vicinity which account for the fact that the persecution, so far as we know, was confined to that locality and also for the fact that the mob mind was in a maturer state of antagonism to Christianity. Just what these peculiar conditions were, it is impossible to say with entire certainty. However there is at least a very suggestive hint in a paragraph by the greatest modern authority on Roman Gaul[14] contained in his well known volume on Ancient France.[15] The paragraph is also worth quoting as giving a valuable insight into the psychology of the peoples of the ancient Roman World. "The Roman Empire was in no wise maintained by force but by the religious admiration it inspired. It would be without a parallel in the history of the world that a form of government held in popular detestation should have lasted for five centuries. It would be inexplicable that the thirty legions of the Empire should have constrained a hundred million men to obedience. The reason of their obedience was that the Emperor, who personified the greatness of Rome was worshipped like a divinity by unanimous consent. There were altars in honor of the Emperor in the smallest townships of his realm. From one end of the Empire to the other a new religion was seen to arise in those days which had for its divinities the Emperors themselves. Some years before the Christian era the whole of Gaul, represented by sixty cities, built in common a temple near the city of Lyons in honor of Augustus. Its priests, elected by the united Gallic cities, were the principal personages in their country. It is impossible to attribute all this to fear and servility. Whole nations are not servile and especially for three centuries. It was not the courtiers who worshipped the prince, it was Rome, and it was not Rome merely but it was Gaul, it was Spain. It was Greece and Asia." While no dogmatic assertion is justified, it does not, perhaps, exceed the limits of reasonable inference to suppose that the existence of this noted center of Emperor worship in the immediate neighborhood of Lyons may account, in part at least, for the especial hatred of the populace of that city for persons who refused to sacrifice to the Emperor and also for the maturity of their feeling against the Christians, who were as far as we are aware, probably the only persons who refused thus to sacrifice. This stray bit of evidence is admittedly not conclusive. It is offered merely for what it may be worth. There is evidence that by the middle of the second Century popular opinion was sufficiently inflamed against the Christians to render the administration of justice precarious because of mob violence. Edicts of Hadrian and Antonius Pious specifically declared that the clamor of the multitude should not be received as legal evidence to convict or to punish them, as such tumultuous accusations were repugnant both to the firmness and the equity of the law.[16] This attitude seems to have persisted with relatively little change for about a century. During this period the official 'persecutions' were neither numerous nor severe. From the very few scattered and incidental references which have alone survived regarding the mob feeling of the time, we can assert no more than that it was an exasperated one, likely to break out upon provocation but under ordinary circumstances more or less in abeyance. On the whole it was undoubtedly more violent at the end of the period than at the beginning. Fortunately from the middle of the third Century onwards we have a fairly continuous history of a single 'public' (Alexandria) which is lacking before this time. The Alexandrian populace were noted for their tumultuous disposition, but we have no reliable account of their behavior towards the Christians until the time of Severus, 202 A.D. In the account given by Eusebius of the martyrdom of the beautiful virgin, Potamiaena, it is stated that: "the people attempted to annoy and insult her with abusive words." As however the intervention of a single officer sufficed to protect her from the people on this occasion, the public sentiment cannot have been inflamed to any alarming extent. If we may trust Palladius, her martyrdom was the result of a plot of a would-be ravisher and in any case it was not the product of any spontaneous popular movement. In the period between 202 A.D. and 249 A.D. a well developed tradition of hatred and violence grew up in the popular mind. We have no record of the steps in the process but the extant accounts of the Decian and Valerian persecutions in Alexandria leave no doubt of the fact. These persecutions can only be called 'legal' by a violent stretch of verbal usage. They were mob lynchings, sometimes sanctioned by the forms of law, but quite as often without even the barest pretense of judicial execution. They were quite as frequent and as savage in the later part of the reign of Philip, as in the time of Decius. They were not called forth by any imperial edict--they preceded the edict by at least a year and were of a character such as no merely governmental, legal process would ever, or could ever, take on. Mobbing Christians had become a form of popular sport, a generally shared sort of public amusement--exciting and not dangerous. The letter of Bishop Dionysius makes this very clear. To quote: "The persecution among us did not begin with the royal decree but preceded it an entire year. The prophet and author of evils to this city moved and aroused against us the masses of the heathen rekindling among them the superstition of their country and finding full opportunity for any wickedness. They considered this the only pious service of their demons that they should slay us." Then follows a long list of mob lynchings of which we take a single specimen: "They seized Serapion in his own house and tortured him and having broken all his limbs, they threw him headlong from an upper story."[17] "And there was no street, nor public read, nor lane open to us night or day but always and everywhere all them cried out that if anyone would not repeat their impious words, he should be immediately dragged away and burned. And matters continued thus for a considerable time. But a sedition and civil war came upon the wretched people and turned their cruelty toward us against one another. So we breathed for a while as they ceased from their rage against us."[18] The mob broke loose against the Christians again the following year, but there is no object in cataloguing the grewsome exhibitions of crowd brutality. It is evident that what we have in this account is no exhibition of political oppression by a tyrannical government, but a genuine outbreak of group animosity which had been long incubating in the popular mind. All the phenomena which are characteristic of fully matured public feeling are found complete; circular interaction, shibboleths, sect isolation devices and the rest. When public feeling has developed to such a degree of intensity as this, the accumulated sentiment and social unrest must of necessity discharge themselves in some form of direct group action. This direct action however may take the from either of physical violence or, under certain conditions, of some sort of mystical experience; conversion, dancing, rolling on the ground, etc. In exceptional cases the two forms are combined. An illustration of this latter phenomenon is given by Bishop Dionysius in this same letter; "In Cephus, a large assembly gathered with us and God opened for us a door for the word. At first we were persecuted and stoned but afterward not a few of the heathen forsook their idols and turned to God."[19] It is necessary to mention perhaps the largest, and certainly the most dignified and respectable crowd that is to be met with in connection with this persecution--that of Carthage on the occasion of the martyrdom of Bishop Cyprian. We find here neither rage on one side nor unseemly exaltation on the other. Pagans and Christians alike behaved with decent seriousness at the death of that famous man who was equally respected by all classes of the population. But martyrs of the social eminence of Cyprian were very rare, and orderly behaviour in such a vast multitude as witnessed his end was still rarer. To return to the populace of Alexandria. The long peace of the Church which intervened between the persecution of Valerian and that of Diocletian witnessed in Alexandria, as elsewhere, a great growth of Christianity in numbers, influence, and wealth. It would perhaps be going beyond the evidence to say that in this interval, the majority of the population of the city were won over to the new faith, but it is certain that the number of Christians became so great as to intimidate the pagan portion of the people. The Alexandrian mob was still very much in evidence but it gradually ceased to harrass the Christians except under the most exceptional circumstances. The dangers of such action became so considerable and the chances of success so problematical that we find a period when a practice of mutual forbearance governed the behavior of the hostile groups. The study of crowd psychology presents no more impressive contrast than that exhibited by the people of Alexandria during the Diocletian persecution compared with their behavior during that of Decius. In the last and greatest of the persecutions, in the most tumultuous city of the empire, the mob took no part. Like the famous image of Brutus, it is more conspicuous by its absence than it would be by its presence. The persecution was a purely governmental measure officially carried out by judges and executioners in accordance with orders. In one obscure and doubtful instance we are told that the bystanders beat certain martyrs when legal permission was given to the people to treat them so. In another case we are told that the cruelty of the punishments filled the spectators with fear. These are the only references to the public that occur in the long and minute account of an eye witness of famous events extending over a considerable number of years. Both before and after this period the mob of the Egyptian metropolis exhibits the utmost extreme of religious fanaticism. During this period that mob had to be most carefully considered by the government in other than religious matters. But as a religious power it did not exist. Had the persecution of Diocletian happened a generation earlier it could have counted on a very considerable degree of popular support, had it happened a generation later it would have caused a revolt that could only have been put down by a large army. Happening at the precise time it did, it provoked no popular reaction at all. This strange apathy is not peculiar to Alexandria. Practically without exception the authentic acts of the martyrs of this persecution are court records taken down by the official stenographers in the ordinary course of the day's work. They are dry, mechanical, and repetitious to a degree. They exhibit, in general, harrassed and exasperated judges driven to the infliction of extreme penalties in the face of a cold and skeptical public. One imperial decree ordered that all men, women, and children, even infants at the breast, should sacrifice and offer oblations, that guards should be placed in the markets and at the baths in order to enforce sacrifices there. The popular reaction in Caesarea is thus recorded: "The heathen blamed the severity and exceeding absurdity of what was done for these things appeared to them extreme and burdensome."[20] "He (the Judge) ordered the dead to be exposed in the open air as food for wild beasts; and beasts and birds of prey scattered the human limbs here and there, so that nothing appeared more horrible even to those who formerly hated us, though they bewailed not so much the calamity of those against whom these things were done as the outrage against themselves and the common nature of man."[21] The one thing to be said of this type of mob mind is manifestly that it is transitional. The pendulum has swung through exactly half its arc and for the brief instant presents the fallacious appearance of quiescence. How transitory this quiet was on the part of the Alexandrian mob is evidenced by the history of Athanasius. That great statesman conciliated and consolidated public opinion in Egypt. Backed by this opinion he practically cancelled the power of the civil authorities of the country and negotiated as an equal with the emperors. For the first time in more than three centuries the will of the common people again became a power able to limit the military despotism which dominated the civilized world. The re-birth of popular government in the Fourth century through the agency of Christian mobs is the most important preliminary step in the growth of the political power of the Catholic Church. A study of the mobs of Alexandria, Rome, Constantinople and other great cities shows beyond question that the political power of the Church had its origin in no alliance with imperial authority, but was independent of and generally antagonistic to that authority. The history of these Christian mobs lies outside the limits of our study but it is worth while in the case of the Alexandrian populace to give two or three brief extracts illustrating the final steps of the process which changed a fanatically pagan mob into an equally fanatical Christian one. What we have to consider is only the last stage of an evolution already more than half complete at the time of the Nicene Council. Under extreme provocation and certain of imperial complacency at their excesses, the pagan mob during the reign of Julian indulged in one last outburst against the exceedingly unpopular George of Cappadocia who had been forcibly intruded into the seat of Athanasius. To quote the Historian Socrates: "The Christians on discovering these abominations went forth eagerly to expose them to the view and execration of all and therefore carried the skulls throughout the city in a kind of triumphal procession for the inspection of the people. When the pagans of Alexandria beheld this, unable to bear the insulting character of the act, they became so exasperated that they assailed the Christians with whatever weapons chanced to come to hand, in their fury destroying numbers of them in a variety of ways and, as it generally happens in such a case, neither friends or relations were spared but friends, brothers, parents, and children imbued their hands in each others blood. The pagans having dragged George out of the church, fastened him to a camel and when they had torn him to pieces they burned him together with the camel."[22] In this account we see the last expiring efforts of the pagan mob movement. Any mob movement collapses rapidly when it turns in upon itself, and the evil results of its violence react immediately upon the members of the mob. By this time it is evident that the number of Christians in Alexandria was so large that any public persecution of them brought serious and unendurable consequences upon the populace generally. Then the movement ended. But in the two centuries or more that the pagan movement lasted, a contrary Christian mob movement had been developing along the same general lines as the other. This movement, being later in its inception, came to a head correspondingly later and reached its crisis under the patriarch Cyril. Its violence was first directed against the Jews whom the Christians appear to have hated even more than they hated the pagans. The Jews were the weaker and less numerous faction opposed to the Christians and as the Pagans seem to have liked them too little to support them against the Christians, it is not surprising that the Christian mob, which had pretty well reduced the political authorities to impotence, should vent its rage against the Jews and their synagogues. "Cyril accompanied by an immense crowd of people, going to their synagogues, took them away from them and drove the Jews out of the city, permitting the multitude to plunder their goods. Thus the Jews who had inhabited the city from the time of Alexander were expelled from it."[23] Sometime after the expulsion of the Jews, the Christian mob, now directing its spite against the rapidly disappearing paganism, perpetrated perhaps the most atrocious crime that stains the history of Alexandria--the murder of Hypatia. This beautiful, learned, and virtuous woman, 'the fairest flower of paganism' is one of the very few members of her sex who has attained high eminence in the realm philosophical speculation. She enjoyed the deserved esteem of all the intellectual leaders of her age--Christian as well as pagan--and to the latest ages her name will be mentioned with respect by all those speculative thinkers whose respect can confer honor. Socrates describes her murder as follows: "It was calumniously reported among the Christian populace that it was she who prevented Orestes from being reconciled to the bishop. Some of them therefore hurried away by a fierce and bigoted zeal, whose ringleader was a reader named Peter, waylaid her returning home and dragged her from her carriage; they took her to the church called Ceasareum where they completely stripped her and then murdered her with oyster shells. After tearing her body in pieces, they took her mangled limbs to a place called Cinaron and there burned them."[24] Christian crowd sentiment when hardly yet at its full power was deprived of its original object of animosity by the collapse of paganism. Being under the psychological necessity of expressing itself, this mob feeling happened to take as shibboleths some current theological catchwords. The subsequent history of Alexandria and other great cities presents therefore the strange scene of rival sects disturbing public order and profoundly agitating vast throngs of people in a struggle over the most abstruse and recondite metaphysical concepts. For the sake of clear thinking it is necessary for us to remind ourselves that these concepts are merely weird garments fortuitously snatched up to cover the nakedness of a profound social and economic revolution. The above sketch, imperfect as it is and full of lacunae due to the inadequacy of the primary source material, is yet perhaps complete enough to enable us to summarize the chief steps in the process of the socialization in its aspect of a crowd movement. We have seen that this crowd movement, like all others, had its origin in social unrest due to shattered private and community ideals. The customary forms of expression being inhibited or repressed, the balked disposition experienced an organic demand for new stimulation. This new stimulation was sought in various ways; aimless or practically aimless travelling or local wandering, local disorder and agitation, increase in crime--and insanity. Gradually this unrest focused itself and public attention became fixed on Christianity. By the process of circular interaction, the so-called 'vicious circle', public sentiment increased in intensity, the name 'Christian' became a shibboleth. When applied to an individual it let loose upon him the pent up emotion of the mob--an emotion or unreflective rage and anger. By the further process of idealization or sublimation, using the terms in their technical sense, the populace came to believe that Christianity was the great and superhuman (daemoniac) source of all evils; earthquakes, disease epidemics, famine etc. Seeking release for psychic tensions which were not understood and largely subconscious, they found it in a reversion to the oldest of the 'releasing instincts' that of hunting. The primary thing about the persecutions is that they were man hunts. The cruelty exhibited, while also serving as a tension release for mob feeling, is psychologically a secondary form of such release--though a very old form. The discharge of the accumulated public sentiment and of the severe social tensions produced group action of two kinds: (a) Direct action: tearing the victim in pieces, gathering wood to burn him, striking him with sticks, stones, etc. (b) Expressive action, taking the form of shouts, cries and ejaculations which became customary and traditional, 'Christianos ad leones.' The very methods of lynching became ceremonial and even ritualistic. The beasts were first choice, then burning and then other forms in descending scale. The narrow range of the mob mind is illustrated by the closeness with which it adhered to contemporary judicial methods of punishment. The most obvious method of killing, and one which had the advantage of enabling a great number of people to see what was going on, the method of hanging, which is in such common use by mobs of our day, does not seem to have been employed by the ancient crowds--at any rate its use was rare in the modern form, strangling. There are some cases of hanging naked women by one foot. Expressive action also took the form of wild and fantastic legends of cannibalism, child murder and such like. The crisis of this pagan mob movement came about the middle of the third century. The Decian persecution appears to have been 'popular' in the strict etymological sense of that word. The persecution of Diolection, though the most severe, seems to have had no great force of pagan public sentiment behind it. That sentiment was not hostile; it was neutral. The populace did nothing to hinder the measures of the government and it did nothing to help them. In another generation the pagan movement had spent itself. This analysis of the pagan mob sentiment against the Christians is applicable mutatis nominibus, to the Christians' mob movement against the pagans and to the movement of the 'orthodox' Christians against the 'heretics.' Perhaps we should say here, in defense of human nature, that these mob movements were not due to human depravity; they were, in strict literalness, diseases, epidemics of nervous disorder induced by pathological social conditions. Before any persecuting attitude became habitual to the pagan populace pagan common sense had exhausted argument, persuasion, expostulation and every other intellectual device. Only after reason and religion (in the pagan sense) had been employed in vain; only after long exasperation at a hopeless situation, when absolutely nothing else could be done, was popular violence aroused. Social conditions being what they were, traditional mental attitudes common to pagan and Christians alike required that something be done and mob action was the last desperate alternative to the admission of a new intellectual concept. The function of Chiliasm in this crowd movement is plain from its history as previously sketched. It was a Christian shibboleth peculiarly valuable for securing group cohesion, and for arousing individual staying power in times of persecution. Of the numerous characteristics of successful 'sect shibboleths' three are perhaps especially note worthy: (a) Satisfaction of the demand for mystical experience. (b) Operation as an isolating device. (c) Revolt against the prevailing moral order. In the period of greatest need Chiliasm fulfilled these requirements very well. Many a Christian of little education was lifted out of himself to endure martyrdom by somewhat crass imaginations of participation in the reign of the saints in the rebuilt Jerusalem. Many a little band of sectaries maintained their group solidarity because of the belief that they were the elect people 'chosen of God' for future glory in the millennial kingdom. Many a faithful one who would otherwise have given up in despair, must have gained strength and courage from the thought of that happy era, soon to come, when the cruel persecutors of the church would be slaves suffered to live only that their servitude might augment the dignity and honor of the saints in the beatific kingdom. The relation of the Chiliastic expectation to that strange insensibility to pain which was so remarkable a characteristic of the early martyrs cannot be stated with exactness. It was probably close--at least in numerous cases. We have what seems to be entirely trustworthy evidence that not only strong men but even delicate and sensitive women exhibited the power of inhibiting the normal reactions to the most excruciating torments. This almost incredible power of inhibition can only be explained as the result of the building up of a pathologically intense, ecstatic, mental state. This ecstatic mental state would appear to have been acquired by a series of psychic changes and organic, neuronic adjustments requiring, ordinarily, a fairly considerable amount of time. This peculiar psychological condition had not merely to be built up. It must have attained an extraordinary degree of habituation in order to render its subjects impervious to such extreme sensory excitations. The requisite degree of imperviousness can hardly have been acquired without such permeation of consciousness by imagination as constituted a complete subjective universe. Many of the martyrs would seem to have lived, more or less habitually, in a mental world of their own which shut them off from susceptibility to external stimuli. This condition is frequently found in artists and thinkers, and with the accompanying insensibility to pain, is a common phenomenon in the 'trance' state as well as in some forms of insanity.[25] It would go beyond the evidence to claim that Chiliastic concepts functioned exclusively, or even predominantly, in the production of the 'martyr psychosis,' but the evidence does point to the conclusion that apocalyptic expectations held a more prominent place in the consciousness of the martyrs than in that of the generality of Christians. It is certain that Chiliasm became especially manifest in times of persecution but Chiliasm must have operated even in ordinary times to produce the phenomena which persecution brought into prominence. Even today, in the entire absence of persecution, Chiliastic excitement among certain groups of secretaries produces types of religious psychosis closely similar to those exhibited by the martyrs.[26] On the whole the conclusion appears warranted that the increasing power and progressive socialization of the church, which made persecution at first hopeless and at last impossible, rendered Chiliasm, as a crowd shibboleth, gradually useless and finally pernicious to the ecclesiastical hierarchy. Had further persecutions been possible Chiliasm would no doubt have been retained longer, but its usefulness was fatally impaired when the majority of people nominally embraced Christianity. It was of little or no value in those struggles with heretical Christian sects which engaged the activities of orthodox mobs from the time of Constantine onwards. Other shibboleths such as 'The Church' and 'Catholicism' were more effective in this contest. Similarly for the larger purpose of ecclesiastical polity, agencies like monasticism and missionary enterprise were employed, which conserved the shibboleth values of Chiliasm and were free from its defects as an instrument of hierarchical ambition. The aims of the rulers of the Church became increasingly social and political and with such aims Chiliasm was fundamentally incompatible. FOOTNOTES: [1] E.g., the pagan philosophers. [2] Acts 14:1-6. [3] Pliny, Ep. xcvi. [4] Dialogue XVIII. [5] Mart. Poly. III. [6] _Ibid._, VIII. [7] _Ibid._, XII. [8] _Ibid._, XIII. [9] _Ibid._, XVIII. [10] Hist. Ecc. VI. [11] Hist. Ecc. V, I. [12] Hist. Ecc. V, II. [13] Prof. J. W. Thompson. [14] Fustel de Coulanges. [15] Hist. des insts. politique de l'ancienne France. Par. II. [16] Eus. H. E. IV, 26. [17] Eus. His. Ecc. VI, 41. [18] Eus. His. Ecc. VI, 41. [19] His. Ecc. VII, 11. [20] Eus. Mart. Pal. II. [21] _Ibid._, Chap. II. [22] Hist. Ecc. III, 1. [23] Socrates Hist. Ecc. IIII, 13. [24] Hist. Ecc. VII, 15. [25] Cf. E. Underhill 'Mysticism.' [26] E.g., The Dukhabours. CHAPTER IV CHILIASM AND PATRIOTISM Perhaps the most pronounced characteristic of pre-Christian, Judaistic Chiliasm is its nationalistic or ethnic patriotism. Of course any attempt to rigidly differentiate the nationalistic and religious concepts of the Hebrews of the two centuries preceding the advent of Christianity would be foredoomed to failure. Never perhaps were patriotism and religion more nearly synonymous than at this period among this people. That their Chiliasm has a strongly nationalistic content is therefore natural and inevitable. The same patriotic animus is to be found in a great number of their other religious tenets and practices. The emphasis is perpetually upon the enhancement of the value of the Jewish race and nation and the corresponding depreciation of other nations and faiths. But while it is true, that, owing to the inseparable integration of Church and State in Judea, in the first two centuries before Christ, we find a very considerable proportion of the religious beliefs and observances highly charged with nationalistic patriotism; this is perhaps more noticeable in the case of Chiliasm than in the case of any other contemporary theological concept. The nature of the Millennial belief was such as qualified it to function with especial ease and success in that particular historical situation. For considerably more than half a century before the birth of Christ the dominant fact in Hebrew history is the increase of the power and influence of the Roman state in the political life of the Jewish people. This increase was perfectly natural. Indeed it was inevitable. That the petty Judean state would eventually be absorbed in the world wide republic was a fact patent to any reasonably intelligent student of the situation.[1] Under the circumstances it could hardly fail to take place even without any direct provocation to overt action on the part of either Jews or Romans. It is not our purpose to follow the long, hopeless struggle of the Jews against the inevitable extinction of their political independence. The Jew was fighting against fate. From the first interference of Rome in the affairs of Palestine to the last execution of Bar Cochba rebels, the end was never in real doubt--humanly speaking. The inevitableness of the catastrophe in this long drawn out tragedy is, in the writer's judgment, in some measurable degree connected both with the nature and subsequent history of Jewish Chiliasm. Later Hebrew Chiliasm is a very peculiar form of belief. It is characterized by what can only be called a crass and exaggerated anthropomorphic supernaturalism. It would seem as if pari passu with the increasing conviction of the futility of opposition to the power of Rome, there was an increasing conviction of a catastrophic supernal manifestation, which manifestation in its details became ever more and more crude and vulgar. The developing knowledge and conviction of the invincible power of Rome is sufficient to explain the increasing dependence upon supernatural aid for deliverance--but the peculiar crassness of the supernaturalism is the arresting element in the later Jewish Chiliastic writings. When every allowance has been made for the natural exuberance of the Oriental imagination something still remains to be accounted for. It is at least possible that the, to our taste, repulsive features of supernalistic vengeance and glory are the result of a long process of selection. In no people of whom we have historical knowledge is the spirit of nationalistic patriotism more deeply rooted than in the Jew. We may take it that practically all the Hebrews of the generations under discussion believed in an eventually triumphant Jewish state. Differences of education, and religious faith, however, conditioned the opinions as to the time when this triumphant state would appear and still more the method by which it would appear. The better educated Jews, who were conversant with the political conditions of the contemporary world and whose belief in supernatural aid was perhaps weakest, appear to have adopted a laissez-faire attitude. They seem to have been advocates of a pro-Roman policy; to make the best of the existing Roman supremacy waiting for the unpredictable time when Rome should follow the path of Egypt, Assyria, and other world powers who in their several ages had subjugated the children of Abraham. This party would perhaps have been willing to take advantage of any condition of affairs which offered a reasonably safe opportunity of successful revolt but under existing conditions they were opposed to armed resistance to the mistress of the world. At the other end of the scale was a party of bigotedly and fanatically zealous patriots obsessed with the idea that immediate supernatural assistance would be forthcoming in the event of armed revolt. Between these two parties was another party--if it may be called such--partaking in various degrees of the characteristics of these two extremists parties. The Apocaliptic and Chiliastic literature of the period was extensive. It would be possible to arrange even such fragments as remain, according to the preponderance of supernal elements. It would seem to be a rational deduction that if we possessed this literature in its completeness we should be able (bearing in mind that we are dealing with a relatively considerable period of time) to follow the whole process of the supersession of more rational Chiliastic concepts in favor of the more crudely supernaturalistic ones. Rome was at once strongly repressive of movements for political liberty and tolerant of religious liberty. Those writings in which Chiliastic expectations took the form of advocating the active preparing for and co-operating with the expected Messiah would suffer extinction. On the other hand those Chiliastic beliefs which inculcated absolute and entire dependence upon supernatural aid for the achievement of national independence would be politically harmless and exuberance in such imaginings might flourish unhindered. The more fantastic and absurd the expectations the less likely they were to be suppressed by the imperial authorities. Whatever the measure of truth in the above conjecture it is certain that Jewish Chiliasm developed to the last extreme of extravagance. With the doubtful exception of some Hindu legends, there is nothing, which more exceeds the bounds of reason and common sense, in the literature of the world. It is perhaps not too much to say that Jewish Chiliasm died of excess development--a method of extinction of which nature makes liberal use. The later history of Jewish Chiliasm does not concern us. Under the constantly repeated blows of disappointment it changed its form and content into the more rational concept of salvation and glorification of the individual human soul after death. What does concern us is that this Jewish Chiliasm in all but its most extreme form was taken over by Christianity. The intellectual background of Hebrew patriotism of course persisted in the Christians of the first generation who were largely Jews or Proselytes. The imminent divine kingdom of Christ does indeed take the place of the lower concept of a rigidly nationalistic kingdom. The kingdom of Christ even to the first generation of Christians must have had a larger content than the previous Jewish belief which it fulfilled and supplemented. Yet the essential thing to remember is that so far at least as the Jewish Christians were concerned Chiliastic expectations, though somewhat further extended, were still a form of expression for the forces of Hebrew nationalistic patriotism. The kingdom of the Jews had been transformed, or perhaps better, transmogrified, into the Kingdom of Christ and his saints[2] but its essential content was unchanged and so long at least as a considerable proportion of Christians were converted Jews this condition of affairs persisted. The constant criticism of Chiliasm by Gentile Christians is that it is Judaizing. It is perhaps not exceeding the limits of permissable hypothesis to suppose that one of the reasons why Chiliasm failed to make a permanent place for itself in the belief of the universal church is to be found in this very fact that it was in essence a form of political, Jewish, nationalistic patriotism, to which the other portions of the Christian world, perhaps unconsciously, but not the less effectively, objected. The success of Roman imperialism in denationalizing conquered peoples was truly remarkable. In this most difficult task of practical statesmanship its accomplishments far surpass those of any other empire, ancient or modern. But this success, great and unparalleled as it was, nevertheless was not absolute. Except in particular cases it was never really complete. The measure of its accomplishment was very different in different parts of the empire. In Italy, Gaul, Spain, and perhaps Britain its success may fairly be considered complete, but these were countries where the proportion of Roman settlers and colonists was very large. They were countries, furthermore, which were early conquered--countries, which, at the time of the Roman conquest, had not advanced a great distance toward the attainment of national solidarity in politics, religion, art, literature, war or social intercourse. This lack of development of local, national institutions and psychology left the ground relatively free for the development of distinctively Roman civilization and habits of thought. The comparative freedom of these Western provinces of the empire from religious heresies at the time that the Eastern provinces were so prolific of them, is commonly ascribed to inferior aptitude of these Western peoples for metaphysical speculation. We do not attempt to deny such inferiority, though the subsequent development of metaphysical speculation in Western Europe during the time that the reviving sense of nationality first began to be felt in the Middle Ages and Reformation Era, suggests another cause as operative. If we consider three regions where Chiliasm, and also unquestionable heresies, were particularly rife; i.e., Phrygia, Egypt, and Roman Africa we see at once that these regions were seats of old, deeply rooted, and thoroughly developed civilizations. To go into the subject merely a little way we find that a nationalistic tradition existed in Phrygia at the time of the composition of the Iliad.[3] This nationalistic tradition was considerably more than a thousand years old at the time of the introduction of Christianity. Roman political power had by this time been thoroughly established in the country and there is no reason to believe that political rebellion was contemplated at the time of the rise of Chiliasm and the heresies. But while armed revolt may not have been considered as practicable, or even as desirable, the fundamental, nationalistic characteristics of the underlying strata of the population do not seem to have been very greatly altered. Long before the advent either of the Roman political power or the Christian religion a homogenous, national psychology had become characteristic of the Phrygian population. The Phrygian seems to have put on Christianity very much as he put on the toga. He wore the toga regularly and easily enough it may be, but in gestures and action, in speech and manner, he was still a Phrygian. This typical Phrygian seems to have been commonly regarded in the contemporary world as a bucolic sort of individual, much perhaps as a Kansan is regarded in the United States, and with perhaps as much or as little reason. The fact is that while ancient Phrygia without question possessed a large rural population, it also possessed numerous cities where the graces and amenities of life were as fully developed as in any of the neighboring provinces which did not suffer from the attribution of rusticity. The human instinct to botanize a neighboring people while doubtless adding to the gaiety of nations has to be taken _magno_ cum grano salis by the historian. Whatever may be said of their other cultural institutions it is a fact that the Phrygians at the time of the introduction of Christianity had already developed certain distinctively national, religious characteristics which marked them off from their neighbors. The Phrygian Mysteries while doubtless in certain broad characteristics similar to the Eleusinian Mysteries had peculiarities of their own and were cherished by the people as something particularly expressive of their especial form of the philosophy of life. In spite of any decay and degradation which may have overtaken these mysteries in the course of a long history, it is certain that their primary object was the elevation and enhancement of life. The national religious consciousness of Phrygia was peculiar in the prominent place given to women. To this day it is impossible to say with certainty whether the superior place in their religious system is held by the male or female concepts of deity. Perhaps on the whole the female concept preponderates.[4] What is true of theology is also true of cultus. Priestesses and prophetesses held a position of marked prominence and importance. Possibly the most pronouncedly distinctive mark of Phrygian religion was the emphasis upon inspiration, immediate divine revelation, exstatic conditions of religious excitation, the well known "Phrygian Frenzy." If now, with even this meagre, historical, nationalistic background in view, we examine the expression of Chiliasm in Phrygia we see at once how it took the form and color of the national psychology. The most pronounced Chiliastic expectations are found in Montanism, which was so strongly marked by characteristics of its place of origin that it was known throughout the rest of the Christian world as the 'Phrygian Heresy.' So strong was the influence of national sentiment that a very marked change was introduced in one, most important particular. Christian Chiliasm, originating as a Jewish form of nationalistic patriotism, emphasized the fact that in the Millennium Christ was to reign in Jerusalem, which was to supplant Rome as the center and ruler of the world. In this respect Phrygian Chiliasm makes a complete break with the Hebrew tradition. Christ was to appear and reign, not in Jerusalem, but in Pepuza. An insignificant town of Phrygia was to become the capital of the world wide kingdom of Christ on earth, displacing both Rome and Jerusalem. Nationalistic patriotism--not to say megalomania--could scarcely go farther. So too Phrygian Chiliasm is remarkable for the prominence and importance of the position of women in the movement. The women, Prisca and the others, seem to have been fully as prominent in the movement as Montanus himself and they exercised a degree of influence to which it would be difficult to find a parallel in contemporary Christian movements in other countries. Similarly, visions, revelations, inspirations, extraordinary conditions of religious excitation are a marked feature of Phrygian Chiliasm. They are of course the old 'Phrygian Frenzy' in Christian guise. Not to pursue this phase of the subject in more detail, it is evident that Phrygian Chiliasm bore in a marked degree the impress of the national, religious psychology. Those bishops of Pontus and Syria who persuaded their people to settle all their worldly affairs and go out into neighboring deserts to await the coming of Christ in glory, exhibit in a more naïve form the power of local group habits of thought to transform concepts intruded from outside the group. In the case of Egypt it is gratuitous labor to dwell upon the fact that the native population at the advent of Christianity had developed a nationalistic like-mindedness. This nation even in the year 1 A.D. had an historical antiquity greater than any other nation can show today--with the doubtful exception of China. In no other nation in the world has there been such an opportunity for climatic and geographic influences to work their full effect in producing psychological homogeneity among a population on the whole remarkably little disturbed in demotic composition. It is to be remarked also that the climatic and geographic environments are themselves remarkably homogeneous throughout the whole extent of the nation. The deterministic school of historians have a model made to hand in the history of Egypt--a model of which it must be confessed they have made very skillful use.[5] This is not the place, even if the writer had the requisite knowledge, to enter into any extended discussion of the national psychology of the Egyptian populace. It is sufficient to mention one predominating feature of that psychology, a feature so persistent and ubiquitous that the study of it alone, enables the investigator to obtain a true insight into much that is otherwise obscure in almost every variety of social expression among the Egyptians; law, politics, government, art, science, literature, and religion. This predominating feature can perhaps be best defined as a certain low estimate of the value of individuality in the common man, a cheap appraisal of the worthwhileness of the life of the ordinary person. It seems to have a relatively slight ethnic element--if indeed it can be truthfully said to have any. It makes its appearance substantially unchanged in all subtropical countries situated in the same general physical environment as Egypt; e.g., Southern China, India, Mesopotamia, Mexico and Yucatan; in all countries that is, where the natural conditions for sustaining and propagating human life are relatively easy and where the economic surplus of productive physical, as opposed to intellectual, labor is unusually great. Nevertheless the fact that Egypt is in this category is due to a highly special geographic phenomenon, the overflow of the river Nile. So that by comparison with the nations immediately contiguous to Egypt, this psychology may be truly said to be distinctively national in spite of its similarity to that of other peoples more remote geographically. It is perhaps unnecessary to do more than mention a very few of the ways in which this characteristic of Egyptian psychology has affected the national life. It has rendered the population largely passive under the successive yolks of Persians, Greeks, Romans, Arabs, Turks, and Englishmen, to mention only some of the more prominent exploiters. It has made possible the erection of those vast pyramids of stone, devoid alike of necessity or use, which remain to this day one of the wonders of the world. It has enabled religions at once superstitious and debasing to flourish in the midst of a high degree of material civilization. For our purpose it is sufficient to call attention to the fact that this mental bias makes any change, even in the acquired concepts of the people, especially difficult of accomplishment. This is very well illustrated, in the study of Egyptian Chiliasm. In no other country were the efforts necessary to overthrow Chiliastic concepts so long drawn out, so persistent, so futile of immediate success. Indeed they did not finally succeed till long after the period embraced in this study. When the good bishop Dionysius of Alexandria 247-264 A.D., held his conference with the village Chiliasts of the Arsinoite nome, some of them were indeed won over, but we are told that 'others expressed their gratification at the conference'. It is evident that they were 'of the same opinion still', Dionysius himself[6] was not the first of the Alexandrians to oppose Chiliasm. There was much effort, both by him and others, to eradicate the concept before and after this Arsinoite conference. Yet we know that later on, villagers from this region became monks in the Thebiad, and manuscripts still surviving from the Thebiad, show that apocalyptic and Chiliastic literature was popular with the monks, generations, and even centuries, after the death of Dionysius. It is a notable example of the national character of the Egyptians. They let their aggressive and dominating superiors have their own way in appearance--but in appearance only. The underlying currents of thought remained essentially unchanged among the commonality. The resistance was passive--perhaps almost imperceptible--but it was real and persistent. In the case of Roman Africa--the country north of the Sahara Desert and west of Egypt--the problem is more complicated. In Roman times down to the Vandal invasion, the population of this region, leaving out of account certain small and relatively negligible numbers of Greeks, Egyptians and others found mainly in the larger cities, the population was composed of three distinct strata. At the top were the dominant Romans, insignificant in point of numbers but having the monopoly of government, law, and administration. They were practically undisguised exploiters; government officials whose main business was to forward corn and oil to Rome and incidentally enrich themselves; agents of the great Roman landlords intent on transmitting rents to their patrician employers--already in the time of Nero the Senatorial Province of Africa was owned by as few as nine landlords--absentee landlords living in Rome,--and finally, the numerous body of inferior agents; lawyers, money lenders, and estate managers whose services were indispensable to the carrying on of the vast system of economic exploitation. Beneath this thin, dominant, Roman upper crust was a vast population of artisans, tradesmen, agricultural and other laborers, serfs, and slaves. This great body of the commonality was to a remarkable degree still very purely Punic even in late Roman times. They differed ethnically, linguistically, religiously, and otherwise from their rulers.[7] We find St. Augustine, centuries after the Roman conquest, writing a letter in Latin to one of his clergy, but requesting him to translate it into Punic and communicate it to his congregation. It is useful to remind ourselves of the fact that the population of north Africa in the first centuries of the Christian era was much greater than it is now. Centuries of Mohammedan mis-government account for this in part but the chief cause is to be found in those profound climatic changes, the origins of which are still obscure, that have reduced to desolate and barren wilderness whole regions which in Roman times abounded in populous cities and in rich and fertile agricultural lands. This large population had the cohesion which results from centuries of similar and essentially unchanged social habits and it had also that sense of strength which comes from large numbers, and that pride which results from the inheritance of a proud history. They never wholly lost that spirit which had made their ancestors great. They never forgot that in former ages they had competed as the equals of Rome for the lordship of the world. To the South toward the Desert and the Atlas Mountains dwelt a third section of the population. They were nomads or semi-nomads, troglodytes, and mountain peoples. Their manner of life remains essentially the same today as it was in Roman times and as it was for centuries before Rome set foot in Africa. The Romans never succeeded in subduing this population except temporarily and for short periods. The imperial government did what it could, and by means of military posts and patrols kept a kind of order, but its success was only moderate. Christianity in Roman Africa reflects this threefold division of the population, as is to be expected. Cyprian, in spite of the sincere religious faith and high moral character which elevates him so high above the social class to which he belonged, is still the most typical hierarch of his age. In his writings we find the whole philosophy of the governing class translated into ecclesiastical language. It is highly significant that in all the numerous and voluminous writings of this Father there is not a line about Chiliasm. Ideas of such a nature found little reception in the minds of men daily engaged in the practical duties of making as much as possible out of the management and control of a vast population economically and politically subordinated to them. It would seem that Chiliasm was in fact very largely confined to the Punic commonality. Tertullian is the great representative of this class. The very considerable success of his views can only be ascribed to their being acceptable to the general body of his local, Christian contemporaries. It is at least imaginable this success was due to the fact that the personal characteristics of this great African; his impetuosity, his boldness, his sternness, his pride, his vengeful spirit were truly representative of the psychology of the people whose spokesman he was. It is notable that he was perhaps the greatest of the Chiliasts. The reader who has followed the argument thus far may be saying to himself at this point: "If it be granted that the national characters of the peoples of Phrygia, Egypt, North Africa or elsewhere, conditioned their acceptance of Chiliastic beliefs and the ways in which these beliefs found expression, what has that to do with the subject of this chapter which is Chiliasm and Patriotism?" It is to that point we shall now direct our attention, but what has been said above is necessary to the proper consideration of the matter. We have endeavored to show that in Phrygia, Egypt, and North Africa there existed nationalistic psychologies in the commonality. It will be recalled that we have shown in an earlier chapter the curious fact that Chiliasm, though originally a perfectly orthodox doctrine--indeed one of the most important portions of the true faith, nevertheless in the course of its historical development, became mixed up with heresies to a degree beyond any rational explanation by the law of chance or the rule of average. It would seem almost as though there was some natural affinity between this particular orthodox doctrine and almost any heresy; which finally resulted in its being itself condemned as heretical. The reason for this was that Chiliasm, like the heresies, was a psychic equivalent for patriotism. No stranger or more unwarranted delusion is to be found in the whole range of church history than the one still unfortunately common, to the effect that for several centuries at the beginning of the Christian era the populace of whole religions were obsessed with incredible zeal over the most abstruse, metaphysical speculations. It is indeed true that the ostensible objects of the conflict were philosophical ideas but the realities behind these symbols were tangibles of a very genuinely mundane order; economic exploitation, social inequality, and suppressed national patriotism. This is evident enough in cases like the Donatists in Africa, but a little consideration of the evidence in the light of the developments of the Freudian psychology, will make it clear in almost all of the heresies, and in the case of orthodoxy also, when the imperial government chanced to be itself heretical. So far as the writer is aware no study of any great length has been made of this matter, which would richly repay investigation; but our concern is more directly with Chiliasm and the larger problem must be left to others for solution. Freud has shown beyond reasonable hope of successful refutation, that experiences which the mind has completely forgotten leave emotional 'tones' which remain active and are the determining cause of physical and mental conditions. A thought 'complex' is a system of ideas or associations with an especially strong emotional tone. A complex may be of extreme interest to an individual by reason of his social education and hereditary mentality and yet be out of harmony with e.g., security of life and property: so a conflict arises in the mind. This conflicting complex is gotten rid of in various ways; rationalization, repression, disassociation, or what not, but the energy or interest which initiated the complex remains none the less and something must become of its force. This undirected emotional force is the cause of dreams, neuroses, and psychic trauma.[8] Such in the most sketchy outline is Freud's idea. The application to the case under consideration is obvious. Patriotism was a repressed 'complex' to the peoples of Phrygia, Egypt, and Roman Africa. The mental conflict brought on by the repression was rationalized easily enough, no doubt, so far as the conscious mind of the populace was concerned, but the disassociated emotional energy was let loose on other concepts with which it had no proper connection originally, i.e., problems of philosophical speculation. Chiliasm was a speculative concept of a sort to make an especial appeal under the circumstances. So far as his conscious mind was concerned the Phrygian might be perfectly reconciled to Roman political supremacy. He might rationally prove to his own satisfaction that such political supremacy was really to his own advantage in the long run. Any idea of resistance was sure to be repressed by the certainty of losing his property and life. Yet the emotional energy of his patriotism remained and it naturally associated itself with any idea that lay at hand. Chiliasm happened to be at hand. The glorified, divine kingdom of the Saints of God on earth was the psychic equivalent of that Phrygian kingdom whose national existence had been forever extinguished by Rome. Similarly that national patriotism which under other historical circumstances might have found satisfaction in the glory of an independent Egypt now found expression in the borrowed phraseology of Jewish and Christian apocalyptical literature. The same is true of course of the Punic and Nomadic strata of the population of Roman Africa. To the new Jerusalem which was to come down out of heaven from God, these peoples transferred their now useless and hopeless longing for the Carthage of the days of Hannibal and for Jugurthan Numidia. If, as we have endeavored to show, Chiliasm represented the strivings of repressed, national patriotisms, we can readily understand the increasing opposition it encountered on the part of the great dignitaries of the Church. As the Christian hierarchy became increasingly perfected, the desire of the prelates for unity and cohesion in the Church became correspondingly greater. But national patriotism is essentially a disrupting and disintegrating force to any imperialistic organization, civil or ecclesiastical. Chiliasm being associated with this separatist tendency, naturally came to be regarded as heretical, and as such, was suppressed. FOOTNOTES: [1] Cf. R. Charles, Doctrine of a Future Life. [2] Cf. S. J. Case, The Messianic Hope. [3] Cf. Il., III, 187. [4] Cf. W. M. Ramsay., Art. _Phrygians_, Enc. of Religion and Ethics. [5] Cf. Buckle, Intro. to the Hist. of Civilization in England. [6] Cf. Eusebius, Eccl. Hist., VII, 24 seq. [7] Cf. Alex. Graham, Roman Africa. [8] Cf. A. H. Ring, Psychoanalysis. CHAPTER V CHILIASM AND SOCIAL THEORY We have seen that in the first generations of the Church's existence the rapidly approaching end of the world was a doctrine firmly held by almost all Christians. We have seen how by the fifth century this doctrine, though doubtless still believed by small numbers of individuals and isolated groups, was practically dead. We have endeavored to show some of the more important political, economic, social, and religious effects of this belief and of its declension. The changes which took place almost imperceptibly during the course of more than three centuries in the status of this doctrine make any evaluation of its influence very difficult. It is, however, probably well within the truth to say that the transformation of early Christianity from an eschatological to a socialized movement is, in some respects, one of the most important changes in its history. The change was actual and objective rather than formal and theoretical. It profoundly influenced the practical lives of Christians, but it produced no alteration whatever in the creeds of the Church. As has been shown in the preceding chapters it is for these reasons at once more difficult to investigate and more troublesome to evaluate. The difficulties of the subject itself, considerable as they are; lack of adequate source material, doubt as to the authenticity and reliability of such sources as we have; and ever present theological prepossession, these difficulties after all do not offer such hindrances to fruitful investigation as another factor, the present condition of sociological methodology. The writer is not learned in the various forms of scientific method, but he doubts whether any other science is, in this respect, in such a chaotic condition as sociology. It is reasonable to expect of any science that it will have some general rules for the investigation of the data in its field, and some general principles for the interpretation of the results of investigation. Sociology is no exception in this respect. In fact the number of sociological 'principles,' so called, is almost incredibly great. A mere descriptive enumeration of them, and a by no means exhaustive one, fills a considerable volume.[1] But so far as the writer is aware, no effort has been made to apply these principles or any considerable number of them, systematically, to the elucidation of any movement, contemporary or historical. In general each principle has had its own advocates who have applied it to varying ranges of historical phenomena--generally to the total or at least considerable, exclusion of other principles. These sociological principles are not only very numerous--they are of very various value. No successful classification of them has thus far been made. It is very possible that in the present state of the science no successful classification can be made. Yet no study of an historical movement can, without loss, dispense with the aid given by these general sociological principles. The writer will, therefore, in the briefest possible manner, try to show some of the aspects of early Chiliasm as they appear in the light of a few of these principles. The list of principles employed is not an exhaustive one. It can not even claim to be comprehensive of all the principles which might fairly be said to be important. On the other hand it perhaps includes some principles which some sociologists would probably consider of minor importance. There is as yet, unfortunately, no considerable agreement on this matter among sociologists of different nationalities and schools. The reason of course, is that the social reality which these principles endeavor to explain contains facts which are intellectually incompatible but which nevertheless, do actually exist together. One of the most important and one of the most convenient methods of investigating social phenomena is the statistical method. In all cases of social pathology this method is so valuable as to be almost indispensable. In other cases its use needs to be more carefully guarded. In the problem we have considered the use of the statistical method has been evidently impossible except in the most incidental manner. We do not know how many Christians expected any particular kind of Second Advent to take place within any given length of time. If we had information for each decade to the time of Augustine, of the number of 'convinced' Chiliasts and the number of 'adherents' who were inclined toward that belief, together with information as to the number of years within which each of these groups expected the Second Advent, it is needless to say that such facts would enable us to judge the movement with a considerable approach to historical certainty. Even such incidental and fragmentary information as has come down to us in regard to the number of Chiliastic believers is most valuable and such use has been made of it as may be. If the use of the statistical method has not been more extensive, it is because of lack of data. Perhaps the most widely known of all sociological principles is that called Economic Determinism, or the Economic Interpretation of History, or Historical Materialism. More and more, of recent years, this principle has been employed by historians. The classic statement of the doctrine is found in the Communist Manifesto. The Introduction to the second edition states: "In every historical epoch the prevailing mode of economic production and exchange and the social organization necessarily following from it, form the basis upon which is built up, and from which alone can be explained, the political and intellectual history of that epoch; that consequently the whole history of mankind (since the dissolution of primitive tribal society holding land in common ownership) has been a history of class, struggles, contests between exploiting and exploited, ruling and oppressed classes."[2] In the application of this principle to our subject we are lead to expect a genuine, though not necessarily direct, connection between the declension of eschatological expectations, the increase of socialization in early Christianity and such broad economic movements as resulted from the soil exhaustion of Western Europe and the decreased productivity of compulsory associated labor. In the substitution of serfdom for slavery and in the growth of monasticism we certainly have two movements which profoundly affected the Church, and had a considerable part in altering the attitude of mind which made Chiliastic expectations tenable. It is probably true that what we have here is considerably more than a mere coincidence of time, i.e., that Chiliasm declined as serfdom developed and was dead by the time the patronage system was established on the great estates. Indeed, in the West at least, Chiliasm was dead before the country regions were to any measurable degree Christian at all. It is not too much to say that the apologetic used by St. Augustine to extirpate primitive, Chiliastic belief was only made plausable, or even possible, by profound changes, of an economic nature, in the early Church. The central point of Augustine's apologetic is that the Church, as actually existing at the time, was the promised kingdom of Christ and the reign of the Saints on earth. Such an explanation would have been absurd in the days when the Christian Church consisted only of a few, small companies of sectaries, lost among the lower strata of the population of the cities on the Mediterranean litoral. But by Augustine's time the Church was something quite different. It was enormously wealthy; owning farms, orchards, vineyards, olive yards, mines, quarries, timberlands, horses, cattle, sheep, goats, slaves and serfs, to say nothing of the purely ecclesiastical properties like Churches, schools, bishops' residences and similar structures, and the land they occupied. The possession of this great wealth inevitably brought with it social position, prestige, and political power. The psychical reaction produced by wealth, rank, and power was naturally unfavorable to the growth of any lively desire for the termination of the existing order of things. Indeed it was an active force in displacing and eliminating Chiliasm from the minds of the hierarchy. On the reverse side we have seen that the times of persecution, when the property of the Church was confiscated and the lives and liberty of Christians endangered or lost, coincided with the recrudescence of Messianic expectations. So that, whichever way the subject is approached, it would seem that the contentions of the advocates of the economic interpretation of history can make out a very good case in the instance of the early Christian Church and Chiliasm. Without raising economic determinism to the rank of a dogma and while admitting that it has very real limitations, it would nevertheless appear from the present study, that the following contention of one of its leading exponents contains an important degree of truth. "The relations of men to one another in the matter of making a living are the main, underlying causes of men's habits of thought and feeling, their notions of right, propriety, and legality, their institutions of society and government, their wars and revolutions."[3] A principle somewhat allied to the doctrine of Economic Determinism, is that of progress by 'Group Conflict.' Perhaps the most notable exponent of this principle is the Austrian sociologist, Ludwig Gumplowicz, who states: "When two distinct (heterogen) groups come together the natural tendency of each is to exploit the other to use the most general expression. This indeed is what gives the first impulse to the social process.[4] According to this principle we should expect to find the cause of the transformation of early Christianity in the conflicts of various groups within the Christian community and in the conflicts between the Christians as a group, and various other groups in the world of that time. The truth of this is so obvious that it is a mere waste of words to point it out. That Christian theology evolved by a series of conflicts with various pagan theologies on the one side, and with various groups within the Church on the other side, which were successively branded as heretical, is the most patent fact in the theological history. What is true of the theology in general is true of Chiliasm in particular. It was very largely during the conflicts with a long series of heretical groups; Gnostics, Ebionites, Alogi, Montanists and Apolinarians that the blows were given which finally vanquished Chiliasm. Its elimination, or at least the rapidity of its elimination, was very measurably due to the fact that it was involved in these group conflicts, and as it was almost invariably associated with the losing group, it suffered the natural fate of the vanquished. While the principle of which Gumplowicz was so able a supporter leads us to expect changes in the Chiliastic doctrine wherever it appears in connection with the phenomenon of group conflict, both within and without the Church, this principle does not, in itself, enable us to state anything definitely concerning the nature of these changes. There is, however, another sociological principle which we can call to our aid--the principle of Imitation. According to M. Tarde: "The unvarying characteristic of every social fact whatever is that it is imitative and this characteristic belongs exclusively to social facts. This imitation however, is not absolute and the various degrees of exactness in imitation and the complexes resulting from the various combinations and oppositions of imitations form the dynamic of progress."[5] By the help of this principle we can in a certain measure estimate the general nature of the changes which took place in early Christianity during the process of its socialization. The conversion of the Roman Empire to Christianity is, according to this principle, merely half of the actual occurrence. The other half might be called the conversion of Christianity to the Roman Empire. The fact that this second conversion took place; that the Christian Church became a hierarchic, bureaucratic, legalistic, monarchical imperialism is evidence enough that the principle of Imitation operated powerfully in early Christian history. What is true of the early Church as a whole is true of Chiliasm in particular. There was no very powerful Second Adventist or other Chiliastic influence in the heathen world with which the early Christians were in contact. Their beliefs were, therefore according to this theory, weakened by dilution; vice versa the pagans were gradually converted to an enfeebled eschatological belief by imitation of the Christians, but the net result was a compromise, i.e., a far off and indefinite eschatology. The concrete evidence in support of this contention is not abundant being confined to a few lines in the Sibylline Oracles, Hippolytus, Lactantius and Augustine. Such as the evidence is, however, it is entirely on the side of the theory of imitation. It is moreover a very defensible position that if we were not dealing with such a stereotyped literary form, the evidence would be much stronger. One arresting feature of the Chiliastic passages that have come down to us, is their uniformity. They are repetitions, very often actual, verbal repetitions of one another. What is of real interest in this connection however, is not the form of words, used, but the varying degrees of earnestness, sincerity, and eagerness with which the beliefs, embodied in the form, were held. This is a thing difficult if not impossible of measurement. Practically our only means of arriving at the facts is to compare the relatively slight changes in the _form_ of the Chiliastic tradition. This has already been done[6] and favors the contention which the theory of Imitation seeks to maintain. The passage in the Oracles, while undoubtedly Chiliastic, is doubtfully orthodox and is found in a context showing the influence of paganism in almost every line. Similarly Hippolytus and still more Lactantius and Augustine being situated so as to be peculiarly susceptible to the pagan environment show a marked tendency to make the Second Advent a far off event. St. Augustine, whose contact with the contemporary pagan world was more complete at more points than that of any other Church father, puts the Second Advent out of all connection with his own generation. Another sociological principle of considerable importance for our purpose is that sometimes spoken of as the transfer of the allegiance of the unproductive laborers. The most prominent upholder of this principle is probably the Italian economist Achille Loria. According to Loria, the history of civilization is the history of the struggle for the economic surplus. The existence of an economic margin above the necessities of subsistence at once divides society into three classes: exploiters, unproductive laborers,[7] and productive laborers. "In order to exert moral suasion enough to pervert the egoism of the oppressed classes, the cooperation of unproductive laborers is required. The decomposition of an established system of capitalistic economy carried with it a progressive diminution of the income from property and consequently involves a corresponding falling off in the unproductive laborers' share therein. This in turn dissolves their partnership with capital and puts an end to their task of psychologically coercing the productive laborers. The bandage is thus suddenly removed from the eyes of the oppressed and the systematic perversion of human egoism up to this time in force, is abruptly brought to an end. "But scarcely has the inevitable course of events hounded to its grave the existing order of oppression, when there arises another. Under the new system of suppression the ancient alliance between capital and unproductive labor is reestablished and at once inaugurates a new process better adapted to pervert the egoism of the productive laborers."[8] The importance of this principle for the understanding of our subject cannot easily be overstated. The socialization of early Christianity proceeded in almost direct ratio to the number of 'unproductive' laborers coming over to it. If Christianity had had in the First Century, such an array of theologians, philosophers, apologists, statesmen, and intellectuals generally, as it had in the Fourth Century, there can be no reasonable doubt that its triumph would have been much more rapid and complete. On the other hand had the Pagan cults been able to show as numerous and as able a body of intellectual defenders in the Fourth Century as in the First, the success of the Church must have been much retarded. The declension of the artistic, literary, and general intellectual level of ancient, pagan civilization during the first three or four centuries of the Christian era is a fact so well known as to call for no remark. What is not perhaps, so well recognized is that during the very time that the pagan world presents an almost incredible degree of intellectual feebleness and sterility, the actual proportion of intellectually able men in society was remarkably great. Rome, never, perhaps in her whole history, had to her credit so many men of statesman-like ability as at the time her empire was falling to pieces. The explanation is simple. The men of genius and ability were no longer interested in the political fortunes of the pagan empire. They had gone over to a new allegiance, and expended in the foundation of the Catholic Church a degree of intelligence and ability which, had it been placed at the service of the Empire, might very conceivably have enabled that Empire to survive to this day. It is certain that one of the leading causes of the collapse of the pagan cults was their increasing inability to command the support of the intellectual leaders in society, and it is no less true that the increasing success of the Church was to be ascribed to the ever larger number of men of intellectual gifts who enrolled themselves in her support. The fact, of course, is that Christianity offered increasingly an outlet for the expression of abilities and capacities of mind and soul such as no pagan cult could provide. The most superficial comparison of the intellectual forces for and against Christianity in the first century, with the corresponding array in the fourth or fifth centuries is sufficient to show the enormous progress made by the process of socialization in the interval. Our more particular concern is, however, with the eschatological concepts. A comparison of the supporters and opponents of Chiliasm at different periods brings into clear view the rate of its decline. Without repeating what has been dealt with already,[9] it is sufficient to recall that in the first century Chiliasm had the support of men like St. Paul and the authors of the Gospels and other New Testament books, notably Revelation. Indeed, as far as we can judge, every intellectual leader of the Christian movement for nearly a century supported the apocolyptic concepts. But as time went on the proportionate number and ability of its defenders declines. Finally in the person of Origen in the East and Augustine in the West we find the undisputed intellectual leaders turning the whole intellectual class against it, and so bringing about its overthrow. Still another sociological principle of high importance because of its pervasiveness and ubiquity is that propounded by Prof. Veblen in what is perhaps the best known of American works on sociology.[10] This principle, which may be summed up by the words Conspicuous Honorific Consumption, is that beliefs and customs, in order to establish themselves and to survive as socially reputable, must involve their holders in purely honorific consumption of time and economic goods. This consumption may be, and in fact very largely is, vicarious. In this case the functionaries of the vicarious extravagance must be distinguished from their masters by the introduction of the element of personal inconvenience into the performance of their functions. Of the various sociological principles, so far brought to our attention this one of Conspicuous Honorific Consumption gives us what is probably the most useful clew to follow for the understanding of the relatively rapid decline and the immediately subsequent social disrepute of the eschatological elements in early Christianity. No set of theological concepts can be easily imagined which are more antagonistic to the canon of honorific, conspicuous consumption than are the eschatological ones. But the principle of the reputability of waste is so intercalated into every form of social usage; it plays so large a part in all moral, religious, literary, artistic, political, military, and other judgments, that in a society like that of the Roman Empire where pecuniary emulation and invidious comparison were the forms taken by the 'instinct of workmanship'--the propensity for achievement--no set of beliefs or observances which ran counter to this principle could, in a prolonged contest, stand the smallest chance of success. In this respect, early Christianity was the more unequal to the struggle in so much as it was the strongest in the cities. The trend of affairs is observable in the Church as early as the appearance of the Epistle of James. Under urban conditions the law of conspicuous consumption works with peculiar power and it tended toward the rapid elimination of those doctrines and observances which operated to keep out of the Church the wealthy, powerful, and fashionable elements of society. Within a relatively short time, by the operation of this principle, the originally respectable doctrine of Millenananism was rendered disreputable and even heretical. It was an important agency in bringing into sharp relief the distinction of clergy and laity, while in the appearance of monasticism we see the working out of this principle among the strongest (theoretical) opponents. Had Christianity in the beginning found a considerable proportion of its adherents among the laboring classes in the rural regions there can be very little doubt that it would have maintained the purity of its early doctrines for a much more considerable period of time than was actually the case. There is no reason to doubt that, in that event, Chiliastic expectations would have survived in Christian theology far longer than they did. "Among the working classes in a sedentary community which is at an agricultural stage of industry in which there is a considerable subdivision of property and whose laws and customs secure to these classes a more or less definite share of the product of their industry, pecuniary emulation tends in a certain measure to such industry and frugality as serve to weaken in some degree the full force of the principle of honorific, and more especially of vicariously honorific wastefulness." That is to say such conditions tend to conservatism in general and possibly to religious conservatism in particular. But for this very reason Christianity made its way only very slowly into the rural regions. In the West, indeed, Chiliasm was already dead before the Church had won any great headway among the agricultural population--which was not until the sixth and seventh centuries. Had Chiliasm been able to hold its own until the conversion of the rural regions, it would certainly have survived there for generations if not centuries--even if it had died out in the urban centers. In the East, where Christianity made its way among the rural population, at least in some degree, considerably earlier than was the case in the West, Chiliasm did get a hold in certain agricultural regions of Phrygia, Syria, Egypt, and elsewhere, and it was in precisely such regions, as we have already seen, that it was held most tenaciously and abandoned most slowly. Prof. F. H. Giddings of Columbia University is the sponsor of the last sociological principle which will be mentioned in this connection. His principle is known as the "Consciousness of Kind." According to Prof. Giddings: "Consciousness of Kind is that pleasurable state of mind which includes organic sympathy, the perception of resemblance conscious or reflective sympathy, affection and the desire for recognition."[11] "This consciousness is a social and socializing force, sometimes exceedingly delicate and subtle in its action, sometimes turbulent and all powerful. Assuming endlessly varied modes of prejudice and of prepossession, of liking and of disliking, of love and of hate, it tends always to reconstruct and to dominate every mode of association and every social grouping."[12] By means of this very comprehensive principle many otherwise merely stray and isolated items of information that have come down to use regarding early Christianity can be given a place and a meaning in the graduated series of phenomena which mark the transition from the eschatological to the socialized movement. Such, for instance, are the exhibitions of consciousness of kind according to differences and similarities of sex, age, kinship, language, political beliefs, occupations, rank, locality, wealth, and the like. The very number of ways in which consciousness of kind exerts influence makes this principle of very great use when the task is that of forming a general conclusion from the investigation of sources which are incomplete, inconclusive and sometimes contradictory. The different sociological principles mentioned above are intended as specimens only. The list is not in any sense complete. No attention is paid to other principles held as coordinates or as correlates of those referred to. Whole classes of principles, the anthropological and geographic, for instance, are consciously omitted. The list is in the highest degree a hit-and-miss selection and the more casual it is, the better for the purpose in hand. This purpose is to show that any given series of principles elucidated by students of our contemporary modern civilization, will be found to have been operating in discernable fashion in the case of an obscure form of theological speculation in the first centuries of the Christian era. That Chiliasm was the natural result of the heredity and environment of the early Christians, or perhaps better, the natural result of the reaction of inherited elements in vital contact with the contemporary world, will probably be admitted readily enough by anyone who has followed the discussion thus far. But the aim of this thesis, particularly of this last chapter, is something more than that. Its aim is to uphold the contention that the forces now operating in society to shape and reshape beliefs and opinions are the very same in kind as operated in the society of the Roman Empire. In short, any explanation of early Christian Chiliasm which seeks to bring in the operation of any social principles which cannot be shown to be objectively operative in contemporary society is to be viewed with a certain measure of doubt, if not of suspicion. It may be taken as a safe assumption that all attempts to obtain a complete explanation of any historical event in terms of one principle of one science are foredoomed to failure. The same is true, in less degree, even if we take all the so far discovered principles of any one science. In order to give anything like a really comprehensive explanation of the historical process which forms the subject of this thesis there would be required the contributions of the principles of economics, political science, psychology, and the other social sciences. Such a synthesis of principles is beyond the ability of any one individual. The application of them all to our subject would be a task requiring the cooperation of many specialists in many lines for some not inconsiderable period of time. The writer's task will not perhaps have been utterly in vain, if he has, even in the slightest measure, helped to bring home to a single reader, this important fact. FOOTNOTES: [1] L. M. Bristol, Social Adaptation, _Harvard Economic Studies_, Vol. XIV. Cambridge 1915. [2] Communist Manifesto. Authorized English Translation, Chicago, 1898. [3] W. J. Ghent, Mass and Class, Chap. 1. New York, 1905. [4] Grundriss der Sociologie; Moore's Translation, p. 85. Annals Am. Acad. Pol. Sci. Phil. 1899. [5] G. Tarde, Social Laws, p. 41. New York, 1899. The Laws of Imitation, p. 22. New York, 1903. [6] See Chap. I. [7] i.e., The so-called, Intellectuals. [8] Economic Foundations of Society, pp. 51 seq. New York, 1889. [9] Cf. Chap. I. [10] The Theory of the Leisure Class. New York, 1899. [11] Inductive Sociology, p. 99, New York, 1901. [12] Descriptive and Historical Sociology, p. 275, New York, 1906. Transcriber's notes: The following is a list of changes made to the original. The first line is the original line, the second the corrected one. In all of them the catastrophy is more or less immediately In all of them the catastrophe is more or less immediately and final judgement which in the preceding form of belief were and final judgment which in the preceding form of belief were is to be preceeded by tremendous portents of the most terrible sort. is to be preceded by tremendous portents of the most terrible sort. Thebiad. In fact a large number of Jewish Apocalyses which the Thebiad. In fact a large number of Jewish Apocalypses which the He maintains that in the Mellennium, death will be abolished He maintains that in the Millennium, death will be abolished Apolinaris was indeed the most Judaising Christian in his Chiliasm Apollinaris was indeed the most Judaizing Christian in his Chiliasm indignantly denounces as 'figments,' 'mere old wives fables' and indignantly denounces as 'figments,' 'mere old wives' fables' and 'doctrines of Jews.'[19] Although Apolinarianism was condemned 'doctrines of Jews.'[19] Although Apollinarianism was condemned of note in the west. It is aboundantly evident however, from the of note in the west. It is abundantly evident however, from the and incongruities as the pagan myths which proviked so many and incongruities as the pagan myths which provoked so many Chiliasts--are held to be insoluable as to the time of their appearance; Chiliasts--are held to be insoluble as to the time of their appearance; dead, and yet to be born. The entity was eternal, indestructable, dead, and yet to be born. The entity was eternal, indestructible, the otherwise unintelligible success of that saint in combatting the otherwise unintelligible success of that saint in combating expression to this accomplished fact and it is no derrogation of his expression to this accomplished fact and it is no derogation of his words restriction in matrimony whether Chilastic or monastic is due words restriction in matrimony whether Chiliastic or monastic is due of the movement, were influenced more by Chilastic concepts than of the movement, were influenced more by Chiliastic concepts than [3] Cf. Parables in I Enoch XXXVII-IXXI. [3] Cf. Parables in I Enoch XXXVII-LXXI. [4] Cf. Apocalypse of Baurch; 4 Ezra, 4 Maccabees. [4] Cf. Apocalypse of Baruch; 4 Ezra, 4 Maccabees. Fourth: What may be distinguished as the specifically Christain Fourth: What may be distinguished as the specifically Christian the pupose of giving him a vest and an overcoat in addition to what the purpose of giving him a vest and an overcoat in addition to what and rightly discharged his service to Him.[13] and rightly discharged his service to Him."[13] The inconsistent and irreconciliable nature of the evidence about The inconsistent and irreconcilable nature of the evidence about references to interest, which may perhpas be due to the fact that in references to interest, which may perhaps be due to the fact that in condeming interest as such. In the minds of the early Christians the condemning interest as such. In the minds of the early Christians the prediliction of certain types of pecuniary interest for that reformer's predilection of certain types of pecuniary interest for that reformer's system of eccliastical polity. The Roman law did indeed fix a system of ecclesiastical polity. The Roman law did indeed fix a or act up to all thay they believe. Imagine a man acting on the or act up to all that they believe. Imagine a man acting on the institution they were perfectly familar and in universal observance institution they were perfectly familiar and in universal observance It was immoral to invest money in the consrtuction company that It was immoral to invest money in the construction company that economic and matters--and on other matters also. The difference in a economic matters--and on other matters also. The difference in a As soon as Christain doctrines became widespread enough to As soon as Christian doctrines became widespread enough to villange or serfdom. But this change cut off the economic margin villeinage or serfdom. But this change cut off the economic margin that of Bibical exegesis. In the well known sermon or essay on: that of Biblical exegesis. In the well known sermon or essay on: pyhsical possessions, but spiritual qualities of greed and avarice. physical possessions, but spiritual qualities of greed and avarice. that shall with difficulty enter into the kingdom," is to be apprehended that shall with difficulty enter into the kingdom, is to be apprehended the reward of which is salvation." "Sell thy possessions." What is the reward of which is salvation." "Sell thy possessions. What is expositions of Christian Scripture, penning the most powerful apologitic expositions of Christian Scripture, penning the most powerful apologetic honors upon the lowliest drugery;[37] they turned princes into plowmen honors upon the lowliest drudgery;[37] they turned princes into plowmen institutions of society can indeed be changed. But they can be changed--or institutions of society can indeed be changed. But they can be changed--on lack theoritical justification tend to accumulate such justification lack theoretical justification tend to accumulate such justification the spread of Chriatian theology by liberating it from the burden the spread of Christian theology by liberating it from the burden influence is economic. Christianity by teaching the virtues of honesty influence is economic. Christianity by teaching the virtues of honesty, Penticost and immediately afterwards was due primarily to the fact Pentecost and immediately afterwards was due primarily to the fact began to develope doctrines and practices even slightly at began to develop doctrines and practices even slightly at motive, the threatened loss of livlihood, entering along with anger motive, the threatened loss of livelihood, entering along with anger of the crowds only after agitation diliberately stirred up by interested of the crowds only after agitation deliberately stirred up by interested also the villages and country places and yet it sees possible to stop it and also the villages and country places and yet it seems possible to stop it and teaching many not to sacrifice or to worship the gods. Speaking teaching many not to sacrifice or to worship the gods." Speaking pagan public. Most noticable of all is the indifference of the mob pagan public. Most noticeable of all is the indifference of the mob clamor and blows and draggings and roberies and stonings and clamor and blows and draggings and robberies and stonings and more through permeation of the public mind by Christianity. There more thorough permeation of the public mind by Christianity. There very extent and throughness and duration of the persecution very extent and thoroughness and duration of the persecution belongs in the reign of Septimus Severns instead of that of Marcus belongs in the reign of Septimus Severus instead of that of Marcus circumstances more or less in obeyance. On the whole it was undoubtedly circumstances more or less in abeyance. On the whole it was undoubtedly more violent at the end of the period tham at the beginning. more violent at the end of the period than at the beginning. Serverus, 202 A.D. In the account given by Eusebius of the martydom Severus, 202 A.D. In the account given by Eusebius of the martyrdom case it was not the product of any spontanious popular movement. case it was not the product of any spontaneous popular movement. They were not called forth by any imperial edict--they preceeded the They were not called forth by any imperial edict--they preceded the governmental, legal precess would ever, or could ever, take on. governmental, legal process would ever, or could ever, take on. persecution among us did not begin with the royal decree but proceeded persecution among us did not begin with the royal decree but preceded accumlated sentiment and social unrest must of necessity discharge accumulated sentiment and social unrest must of necessity discharge perhaps be going beyong the evidence to say that in this interval, perhaps be going beyond the evidence to say that in this interval, away from them and drove the Jews out of the city, permiting the away from them and drove the Jews out of the city, permitting the being reconciled to the bishop. Some of them therefore hurrried being reconciled to the bishop. Some of them therefore hurried people in a struggle over the most obstruse and recondite metaphysical people in a struggle over the most abstruse and recondite metaphysical to the Christians mob movement against the pagans and to the to the Christians' mob movement against the pagans and to the experience. (b) Operation as an isolating device (c) Revolt against experience. (b) Operation as an isolating device. (c) Revolt against were free from its defects as an instrument of hierarchial ambition. were free from its defects as an instrument of hierarchical ambition. town of Phrygia was to become the capitol of the world wide kingdom town of Phrygia was to become the capital of the world wide kingdom produced no alternation whatever in the creeds of the Church. As produced no alteration whatever in the creeds of the Church. As ever possible, by profound changes, of an economic nature, in the even possible, by profound changes, of an economic nature, in the of men to ane another in the matter of making a living are the main, of men to one another in the matter of making a living are the main, associated with the loosing group, it suffered the natural fate of the associated with the losing group, it suffered the natural fate of the But scarcely has the inevitable course of events hounded to its "But scarcely has the inevitable course of events hounded to its 
41421	----	Transcriber's Note: The text is divided into 5 "Conferences" and 41 sections. Marginal notes indicating the start of individual sections have been converted into section headings. Other notes have been numbered and moved to the end of each Conference. They often refer to the following (rather than preceding) passage, and if so are positioned accordingly. The locations of the marker for Note 13, and of the start of Section 8, are unclear: they have been inserted in accordance with the sense of the text. Other markers that do not correspond to marginal notes have been removed. The "*" that are retained in sections 11, 13 and 18 do not indicate marginal notes, but instead function as bullet points. Variations in spelling have been retained with the exception of the following: Conference 1 Summary: "byass'd" changed to "bypass'd". Conference 2 Section 17: "be-belief" changed to "belief" and "absolure" to "absolute". Conference 5 Section 36 "enent" changed to "tenent"; Section 37 "Athenasian" changed to "Athanasian". Obscured text has been transcribed as follows: Conference 1 Section 8: "?her" transcribed as "Luther". Conference 3 Section 18: the sentence beginning "But if it be said" has been reconstructed from the work cited. Conference 5 Section 30: the phrases "not-conforming to" and "As to Charity" have been reconstructed. At the beginning of Conference 1 a brace, extending over several lines, has been replaced by a column of individual braces. Italics are indicated by _underscores_ and Greek by +plus signs+. When a word in italics is followed by "'s" the latter may or may not be italicised. This inconsistency has been retained. Inconsistent hyphenation has also been retained. The Text has been corrected in accordance with the Errata section. Mismatched brackets and parentheses have been removed and apparent punctuation errors corrected. THE Protestants Plea FOR A SOCINIAN: Justifying His Doctrine from being opposite to SCRIPTURE OR CHURCH-AUTHORITY; And Him from being Guilty of HERESIE, or SCHISM. In Five Conferences. Publish'd with Allowance. _LONDON_, Printed by _Henry Hills_, Printer to the King's Most Excellent Majesty for His Houshold and Chappel. 1686. THE First Conference. The _Socinian's_ Protestant-Plea for his not holding any thing contrary to the _Holy Scriptures_. 1. _That he believes all contained in the Scriptures to be God's Word; and therefore implicitly believes those truths, against which he errs._ §. 2. 2. _That also he useth his best endeavor to find the true sense of Scriptures: and, that more is not required of him from God for his Faith or Salvation, than doing his best endeavour for attaining it._ §. 3. 3. _That, as for an explicite Faith required of some points necessary, he is sufficiently assured, that this point concerning the Son's Consubstantiality with the Father, as to the affirmative, is not so from the Protestant's affirming all necessaries to be clear in Scripture, even to the unlearned; which this, in the affirmative, is not to him._ §. 4. 4. _That several express, and plain Scriptures do perswade him, that the negative (if either) is necessary to be believed; and that from the clearness of Scriptures, he hath as much certainty in this point, as Protestants can have from them in some other, held against the common expressions of the former times of the Church._ §. 6, 8. 5. _That, for the right understanding of Scriptures, either he may be certain of a just industry used; or else, that Protestants, in asserting that the Scriptures are plain only to the industrious; and then, that none are certain, when they have used a just industry, thus must still remain also uncertain in their Faith; as not knowing, whether some defect in this their industry causeth them not to mistake the Scriptures._ 6. _Lastly; That none have used more diligence in the search of Scripture, than the_ Socinians, _as appears by their Writings, addicting themselves wholly to this Word of God, and not suffering themselves to be any way bypass'd by any other humane, either modern, or ancient Authority._ §. 9. {Where, _The_ Protestant's, _and_ Socinian's _pretended_ {_Certainty of the sense of Scripture apprehended by them,_ Digress. {_and made the ground of their Faith against the sense of_ {_the same Scripture declared by the major part of the_ {_Church is examined_. §. 9. §. 1. To shew the invalidity of such a Guide as Protestants have framed to themselves for preserving the true Faith, and suppressing Heresies, hath for several years been the Subject of divers Modern Pens: But, because Instances and Examples, seem to some, more weighty and convincing, it is thought fit (the more to awaken, and the better to satisfie him) here to let the Reader see what Apology a _Socinian_ (who tho' denying the Trinity, and our Saviors Deity, yet, most zealously urges Scripture, and its plainness in all necessaries, as if it justified his own Errors; or that he Erred only in matters not necessary) upon the Protestant Principles may return for himself to a Protestant endeavouring to reduce him to the true Faith and the _Nicene_ Creed; and using any of these five Motives thereto, _viz._ The Testimony of 1. Scripture. 2. Catholic-Church-Authority. 3. Councils, with the Danger and Guilt of 4. Heresie, and 5. Schism. Not intending hereby to equal all Protestant Opinions with the _Socinian_; but inferring that these Pleas as relating to these Motives will as rationally justifie the _Socinian_ as the Protestant. For, suppose a Protestant, first, concerning the _Scriptures_, question a _Socinian_ in this manner. _Prot._ Why do you, to the great danger of your soul, and salvation, not believe, _God the Son to be of one, and the same essence, and substance with God the Father_, it being so principal an Article of the _Christian_ Faith, delivered in the _Holy Scriptures_? _Soc._ To give you a satisfactory account of this matter. I do believe, with other Christians, that the Scriptures are the Word of God; and, with other Protestants, that they are a perfect _Rule_ of my faith. §. 2. _Prot._ But, this secures you not, unless you believe according to this _Rule_; which in this point, you do not. _Soc._ However I believe in this point; truly, or falsly; I am secure that my Faith is entire, as to all _necessary_ points of Faith. _Prot._ How so? _Soc._ Because, as M. _Chillingworth_ saith[1]--_He that believes all that is in the_ Bible, _all that is in the_ Scriptures (_as I do_) _believes all that is_ necessary _there_. _Prot._ This must needs be true: but mean while, if there be either some part of Scripture not known at all by you; or the true sense of some part of that you know (for, _the Scripture_, as that Author notes[2], _is not so much the words, as the sense_) be mistaken by you, how can you say, you believe all the Scriptures? For, when you say, you believe all the Scripture, you mean only this: that you believe, that, whatsoever is the _true sense_ thereof, that is _God's Word_; and most certainly true: which belief of yours doth very well consist with your not believing, or also your believing the contrary to the _true sense_ thereof: and then you, not believing the true sense of some part of it at least, may also not believe the true sense of something _necessary_ there; which is quite contrary to your conclusion here. §. 3. _Soc._ [3]----_I believe, that that sense of them which God intendeth whatsoever it is, is certainly true; And thus I believe implicitely even those very truths, against which I err._ Next: [4]----_I do my_ best endeavour _to believe Scripture in the true sense thereof. By my best endeavour I mean_[5], _such a measure of industry, as humane prudence, and ordinary discretion_ (_my abilities, and opportunities, my distractions, and hindrances, and all other things considered_) _shall advise me unto in a matter of such consequence._ Of _using_ which _endeavour_ also, I conceive, I may be sufficiently certain: [for otherwise, I can have no certainty of any thing I believe from this compleat Rule of Scriptures; this due endeavor being the condition, which Protestants require, that I shall not be, as to all necessaries, deceived in the sense of Scripture.] Now, being conscious to my self of such a right endeavor used: [6]----_For me, to believe, further, this or that to be the true sense of some Scriptures; or to believe the true sense of them, and to avoid the false, is not necessary, either to my faith or salvation. For, if God would have had his meaning in these places certainly known, how could it stand with his wisdom, to be so wanting to his own will and end, as to speak obscurely? Or how can it consist with his justice to require of men to know certainly the meaning of those words which he himself hath not revealed?_ [7]----_For my error or ignorance in what is not plainly contained in Scripture, after my best endeavour used; to say that God will damn me for such errors, who am a lover of him, and lover of truth, is to rob man of his comfort, and God of his goodness; is to make man desperate, and God a Tyrant._ §. 4. _Prot._ But this defence will no way serve your turn for all points of Faith revealed in Scripture: for you ought to have of some points an _express_ and _explicite_ Faith. _Soc._ Of what points? _Prot._ Of all those that are _fundamental_ and _necessary_. _Soc._ Then if this point of _Consubstantiality of the Son with God the Father_ be none of the _Fundamentals_, and necessaries, wherein I am to have a right and an explicite Faith, the account I have given you already, I hope, is satisfactory. §. 5. But next: I am secure, that this point, which is the subject of our discourse, at least in the affirmative thereof, is no fundamental; for, according to the Protestant principles [8]----_The Scripture is a Rule, as sufficiently perfect, so sufficiently intelligible in things necessary, to all that have understanding; whether learned, or unlearned. Neither is any thing necessary to be believed, but what is plainly revealed: for to say, that when a place of Scripture by reason of ambiguous terms lies indifferent between divers senses, whereof one is true, and the other false, that God obligeth men under pain of damnation not to mistake through error, and humane frailty, is to make God a Tyrant, and to say that he requires of us certainty to attain that end, for the attaining whereof we have no certain means. In fine,_ [9] _where Scriptures are plain, as they are in necessaries, they need no infallible Interpreter, no further explanation_ [to me]; _and where they are not plain, there if I, using diligence to find the truth, do yet miss of it, and fall into Error, there is no danger in it._ _Prot._ True. Such necessary points are clear to the unlearned, using a due Industry, void of a contrary interest, _&c._ _Soc._ And in such industry I may be assured, I have not been deficient, having bestowed much study on this matter, read the Controversie on both sides; compared Texts, _&c._ (as also appears in the diligent writings of others of my perswasion); and after all this, the sense of Scripture also, which I embrace, (a sense, you know, decried and persecuted by most Christians) is very contrary to all my secular relations, interest, and profit. §. 6. Now, after all this search I have used, I am so far satisfied, that this point, on the affirmative side, is not clear, and evident in Scripture (and therefore no Fundamental) that I can produce most clear and evident places out of the Scriptures (if a man can be certain of any thing from the perspicuity of its Expressions) that the contrary of it is so. [See _Crellius_ in the Preface to his Book _De uno Deo Patre_,----_Hæc de uno Deo Patre sententia_ plurimis, _ac_ clarissimis _sacrarum literarum testimoniis nititur_----Evidens _sententiæ veritas, & rationum_ firmissimarum _è sacris literis spontè subnascentium_ multitudo, _ingenii nostri tenuitatem sublevat, &c._----_Argumenta, quæ ex sacris literis deprompsimus, per se_ plana _sunt, ac_ facilia _adeo quidem, ut eorum vim declinare aliâ ratione non possint adversarii, quam ut â verborum simplicitate tum ipsi deflectant, tum nos abducere conentur._ And see the particular places of Scripture which they urge (where, as to the expression, and other Texts being laid aside, that seems to be said, as it were _totidem verbis_, which the Socinians maintain), _Joh._ 14. 28. 17. 3. _Ep._ 1 _Cor._ 8. 6.----_Col._ 1. 15. _& Rev._ 3. 14. I set not down this to countenance their Cause, but to shew their Confidence.] §. 7. _Prot._ O strange Presumption! And is not your judgment, then, liable to mistake in the true sense of these Scriptures, because you strongly persuade your self, they are most evident on your side? _Soc._ 'Tis true, that I may _mistake_ in the sense of _some_ Scripture; but it follows not from hence, that I can be _certain_ of the sense of _no_ Scriptures. To answer you in the words of Mr. _Chillingworth_[10]----_Tho' I pretend not to certain means in interpreting all Scripture, particularly such places as are obscure and ambiguous; yet this methinks should be no impediment, but that we may have certain means of not erring in, and about the sense of those places which are so plain and clear, that they need no Interpreters; and in such this my Faith is contained. If you ask me, how I can be sure, that I know the true meaning of these places? I ask you again; Can you be sure you understand what I, or any man else saith; They that heard our Saviour and the Apostles Preach, can they have sufficient assurance that they understood at any time what they would have them do? If not, to what end did they hear them? If they could, why may not I be as well assured, that I understand sufficiently, what I conceive plain in their Writings?_ Again; I pray tell me, whether do you certainly know the sense of these Scriptures, for the evidence of which you separated from the Church that was before _Luther_, requiring conformity to the contrary Doctrines, as a condition of her Communion? _If you do, then give us leave to have the same means, and the same abilities to know other plain places, which you have to know these. For if all the Scripture be obscure, how can you know the sense of these places? If some places of it be plain, why should I stay here?_----[11] _If you ask, seeing I may possibly err, how can I be assured I do not? I ask you again, seeing your eyesight may deceive you, how can you be sure you see the Sun, when you do see it?_ [12] _A Judge may possibly err in Judgment, can he therefore never have assurance that he hath judged rightly? a Traveller may possibly mistake his way; must I therefore be doubtful whether I am in the right way from my Hall to my Chamber? Or can our_ London _Carrier have no certainty in the middle of the day, when he is sober, and in his wits, that he is in his way to_ London?[13]--_This I am certain of, that God will not require of me a certainly unerring belief, unless he had given me a certain means to avoid error, and if I use those which I have, will never require of me, that I use that which I have not_[14].----This is Mr. _Chillingworth_'s solid Plea, against the Papist's grand Objection, for the proving an uncertainty in the Protestant's Faith upon any their pretence of _evident_ Scripture. Sect. 8. _Prot._ But the Scriptures, which you urge against _the Son's being the same one only God with God the Father_, carry not the same evidence and clearness, as those Scriptures do, whereon Protestants build the certainty of their Faith against the Papists, or against the common Church-Doctrines that were before _Luther_. _Soc._ That say the Papists of your plain Scriptures, which you of mine: I pray, what can be said more plain, or in what point, in your Opinion, more fundamental (wherein we contend Scripture is most clear, even to the unlearned), than this, in _Joh._ 17. 3.--_Ut cognoscant te_ [Pater] _solum verum Deum; &, quem misisti, Jesum Christum_--And, 1 _Cor._ 8. 6. _Unus Deus, Pater; & unus Dominus, Jesus._ And, _Eph._ 4. _ver._ 5. _Unus est Dominus_, [i. e. _Jesus_;] and then, _ver._ 6. _Unus est Deus, & Pater omnium_--And, _Joh._ 14. 1. _Creditis in Deum, & in me credite_----And _v._ 28. _Pater meus major me est._ I say, what more clear for proving the Father his being the _true, most high_ God, and excluding the other Persons [the _Son_, or the _Holy Ghost_] from being the very same God? _Prot._ And 1. what more clear, on the other side, than these Texts, _Rom._ 9. 5. _Of whom, as concerning the flesh, Christ came, who is over all, God blessed for ever_----And, _Tit._ 2. 13. _The glorious appearing of the great God, and our Saviour Jesus Christ._ And [15]--_we are in him that is true, even in his Son Jesus Christ. This is the true God and eternal life_, spoken by St. _John_, the great vindicator, against _Ebion_, _Cerinthus_, _Carpocrates_ and other, in his time, opposers of our Lord's Divinity[16]----And _Apoc._ 1. 8. compared with 1. 17.----_I am_ Alpha _and_ Omega, _the beginning and the ending, which is, and which was, and which is to come, the Almighty_? I say, what more clear than these Texts, for shewing the _true Deity_ of Christ? 2. And then, how many other clear Texts are there, asserting the _Eternity_ of our Lord; that he is nothing made or created, but pre-existent before the constitution of the World; equal with God; and that Heaven, and Earth, and all things were made by him, that were made; and that he descended from Heaven from his Father, when he took our nature upon him? See _Joh._ 1. 1. &c.--3. 13. _Heb._ 1. 2, 3, 10 &c.--_Joh._ 17. 5, 24.--_Phil._ 2. 6.--_Joh._ 6. 38.----16. 28.----1. _Tim._ 3. 16.--_Heb._ 2. 14. And 3. then, his _Deity_ and _Eternity_ thus cleared, his Deity can be no other, than, in the total essence thereof, numerically the same with that of God the Father. For, those of your own Sect, together with the whole Christian world, do acknowledge, 1. That there is but one numerical most high God, an inseparable attribute of whom is his Creating of the world, and preexistence before it. And again; 2. That the substance or essence of this most high God, is not any way divisible, partible or multipliable; so that, _Si Christus ex Dei substantiâ generatus fuit, tota ei Patris substantia, eadem numero, communicata fuit._ See _Volkel. de vera Rel. l._ 5. _c._ 12. upon which consequence well discerned, your predecessors were constrained to desert Arianism, or semi-Arianism, and to take in other respects a more desperate way, of denying any pre-existence of our Lord before his Incarnation: To return then to our business. All Scripture being equally true; you know, no Text thereof can be pronounced clear in such a sense, which others, as clear contradict. The non-consideration of which by the passionate or unlearned, is the mother of all errors. The Texts therefore that you produce here so manifest on your side, that they may not contradict many more others as clear against you, are to be understood to speak of our Lord only according to his _Incarnation_, _Messias_ and _Mediatorship_, in which he hath an inferiority to the Father and is our _Lord_, by a special Redemption with his blood, in another manner, than He together with his Father, in the same essence, is the one true God. _Soc._ All the Texts you have mentioned have been diligently considered, and answered by our party. _Prot._ And your Answers are new, forced, absurd, as may clearly appear to any rational and indifferent person perusing _Volkelius_ l. 5. from the 10. to the 14. Chapter. But to omit this dispute, as now beside my purpose. If your sense of the Scriptures, you have urged, be so manifest and clear, as you pretend; how comes so great a part of the Christian world (doubtless rational men), in the sense of these very Scriptures so much to differ from you? Therefore here I cannot but still suppose in you the defect of a _due industry_, well comparing these Scriptures, and void of pride, passion, and other interest. _Soc._ And I return the like question to you. If, on the clearness of the express sense of these Scriptures, I cannot infallibly ground my faith, against many other rational men contradicting; on what plainness of the sense of any other Scripture is it, that Protestants can ground theirs against a contrary sense given by the learned; by several Councils; by the whole Church of some ages, as they do; not promising to the Councils, even to the four first, an absolute, but conditional assent, _viz._ only so far, as their Decrees agree with these clear Scriptures? If neither the plain words of Scripture can afford a sufficient certainty to me in this matter, which Scriptures, you say, in fundamentals are to all perspicuous (and such do many deem this point); nor I can have a sufficient assurance of using an unbiast industry in the understanding of these Scriptures, and also in the comparing them with others, in which I am conscious to my self of no neglect, I see no sufficient ground of my presuming to understand any other part of Scripture; and then, wherein can lye the assurance of a Protestant's Faith, for his not erring in _Fundamentals_ at least? Bishop _Lany_ tells me,[17] _That when we have certain knowledge of a thing, we may safely learn from the Schools,_ viz. _Ubi non est formido contrarii; that after diligent search and inquiry when there remains no scruple, doubt, and fear of the contrary, when the understanding is fixt, we are said to be certain--And that they who will say it, and do think so too, may safely be absolved from the guilt of disobedience._ _Prot._ [18]_You have a judgment of discretion I grant, and may Interpret Scripture for your self: without the use of which Judgment you cannot serve God with a reasonable service, who are also to give account of your self, and are to be saved by your own Faith, and do perish upon your own score._----[19]_None may usurp that royal prerogative of Heaven in prescribing infallibly in matters questioned, but leave all to judge according to the Pandects of the Divine Laws, because each Member of this Society is bound to take care of his Soul, and of all things that tend thereto_----[20]_In matters of Religion, when the question is, whether any man be a fit judge, and chooser for himself, we suppose men honest, and such as understand the difference between a moment and eternity. And then I suppose that all the necessary points in Religion are plain and easie, and consequently every man in this case to be a compleat Judge for himself, because it concerns himself to Judge aright, as much as eternal happiness is worth: and if through his own default he Judge amiss, he alone shall suffer for it._ To God's righteous Judgment therefore I must finally remit you. At your own peril be it. This, of the Socinian's Plea concerning the Scripture on his side. §. 9. Where the self-clearness of the sense of Scriptures, not mistakable in Fundamentals, or necessaries, upon a due industry used (of which also rightly used, men may be sufficiently assured,) being made the ground, as you see, of the Protestants and Socinians Faith, before these two proceed to any further conference, give me leave, to interpose a word between them, concerning this certainty so much spoken of, and presumed on. §. 10. And here first, from this way, lately taken by many Protestants, there seems to be something necessarily consequent, which I suppose they will by no means allow, _viz._ That instead of the Roman Church her setting up some men, (the Church Governors,) as infallible in necessaries, here is set up by them every Christian, if he will, both infallible in all necessaries; and certain that he is so. For the Scripture they affirm most clear in all necessaries to all using a due industry, and of this due industry they also affirm, men may be certain, that they have used it; being not all, _possible_, endeavour, but such a measure thereof _as ordinary discretion_, &c. _adviseth to_. (See Mr. _Chillingworth_, p. 19.) And next, from this affirmed, that every one may be so certain in all Fundamentals, it must be maintained also, that their spiritual Guides, in a conjunction of them, nay more, every single Prelate, or Presbyter, if they are not, yet may be, an infallible Guide to the people in all Points necessary. And therefore M. _Chillingworth_ freely speaks to this purpose[21]----_That these also may be both in Fundamentals, and also in some points unfundamental, both certain of the infallibility of their Rule, and that they do manifestly proceed according to it: and then, in what they are certain that they cannot be mistaken, they may_ (saith he[22]) _lawfully decide the controversies about them, and without rashness propose their decrees, as_ certain, divine _Revelations: and excommunicate or anathematize any man persisting in the contrary error._ And there seems reason in such _Anathema_; because all others either do or may know the truth of the same decrees by the same certain means, as these Governors do. Now then; what certainty the Guides of a particular Church may have, I hope may also those of the Church Catholick: and then, obedience being yielded to these by all their inferiors, this will restore all things to their right course. All this follows upon certainty, 1. That Scriptures are plain in Fundamentals; And 2. That due industry is used to understand them. But, if you should deny that men can have a _certainty_ of their industry _rightly used_; then again, is all the fair security these men promise their followers of their not erring in necessaries quite vanished. But now, to pass from this consequence, (to which I know not what can be said), and to enquire a little after the true grounds of our certainty in any thing, which is here so much pretended. 1. It cannot be denyed, that he that doth err in one thing, may be certain, that he doth not err in some other; because he may have sufficient ground and means for his not erring in one thing, which he hath not in another. Nor again denied, that he, who possibly may err, yet in the same thing may be certain, that he doth not err, if not neglecting some means, which he knows will certainly keep him from error. §. 11. 2. But notwithstanding these: This seems also necessary to be granted on the other side (and is so by learned Protestants,) That in what kind of knowledge soever it be (whether of our _Sense_ or _Reason_, in whatever _Art_ or _Science_) one can never _rightly_ assure himself concerning his own knowledge, that he is certain of any thing for a _truth_, which all, or most others of the same or better abilities for their cognoscitive faculties, in all the same external means, or grounds of the knowledge thereof, do pronounce an _error_. Not, as if truth were not so, though all the World oppose it; nor had certain grounds to be proved so, though all the World should deny them; but because the true knowledge of it, and them, cannot possibly appear to one mans intellect, and, _omnibus paribus_, not to others. Now for any disparity, as to defect, whether in the _instrument_, or in the _means_ of knowledge, there, where all or most differ from me, it seems a strange pride not to imagine this defect in my self, rather than them; especially, * whenas, all the grounds of my Science are communicated to them; and * whenas, for my own mistakes, I cannot know exactly the extent of supernatural delusions. I say, be this in what knowledge we please; in that of sense, _seeing_, _hearing_, _numbring_, or in any of Mr. _Chillingworth's_ former instances mentioned, §. 7. So, I can never rationally assure my self of what I see, when men, as well or better sighted, and all external circumstances for any thing I know being the same, see no such matter. And this is the Rule also proposed by learned Protestants to keep every Fanatick from pleading certainty in his own conceit. See Arch-Bishop _Laud_ (§. 33. Consid. 5. n. 1.)----and _Hooker_ (Preface §. 6.) their designing of a clear evidence, or demonstrative argument, _viz._ _Such as proposed to_ any man, _and understood, the mind cannot chuse but inwardly assent to it_; and therefore, surely, proposed to many men, the mind of the most cannot dissent from it. §. 12. Consequently, in the Scripture; abstracting from the inward operations of God's Holy Spirit, and any external infallible Guide, (which infallible Guide Scripture it self cannot be to _two_ men delivering a contrary sense thereof:) I see not from whence any certainty can arise to particular persons, for so many Texts or places thereof, concerning the sense of which, the most, or the most learned, or their Superiors, to whom also all their motives or arguments are represented, do differ from them. From the plainness of the expression or Grammatical construction of the words, such certainty cannot arise; unless no term thereof can possibly be distinguished, or taken in a diverse or unliteral sense; but, if it cannot be so taken, then all Expositors must needs agree in one and the same sense. For Example, For the _Literal_ and _Grammatical_ sense, what Text Plainer than [_Hoc est corpus meum_]? and yet Protestants understand it otherwise. Very deficient therefore seemeth that answer of Mr. _Chillingworth's_ to _F. Knot_[23], urging, _That the first Reformers ought to have doubted, whether their opinions were certain,--Which is to say_ (answers he), _that they ought to have doubted of the certainty of Scripture; which_ in formal and express terms, _contains many of their opinions_ [whenas the greater world of Catholicks sees no such matter.] Besides, as there is no term almost in any sentence, but is capable of several acceptions; so, since no falshood, no discord is in the Scriptures, there is no sentence in it, however sounding for the expression, but must be reconciled in its sense to all the rest; and for this a diligent comparing of Texts is necessary, to attain the true meaning of many places, that seem at the first sight most clear in what they say, but that there are also other places as clear that seem to say the contrary: And some such places they were, (and that in very necessary points too) of which St. _Peter_ saith; _That some wrested them to their own damnation_[24]_: wrested them_, because they wanted (not industry, but) learning; _which the unlearned_ (saith he) _wrest_----And indeed commonly the most ignorant have the strongliest-conceited certainty for what they apprehend or believe, because they know fewest reasons against it; whilst, by much study and comparing several Revelations one with another, those come at last to doubt, or deny that sense of some of them, which at the first they took for most certainly and evidently true. Pardon this long Parenthesis. [1] _p._ 23, 159, 367. [2] _Chill. p._ 87. [3] _Chill. p._ 18. [4] _Chill. Ib._ [5] _Chill. p._ 19. [6] _Chillingw. p._ 102. [7] _Chill. p._ 18, 92. [8] _Chill. p._ 92. [9] _Chill. p._ 59. [10] _Chillingw. p._ 111. [11] _Ib. p._ 112. [12] _Ib. p._ 117. [13] _Ib. p._ 112. [14] _See also Chill. p._ 140, 366, 367. [15] 1 _Joh._ 5. 20. [16] _S. Hieron. de viris illust._ [17] _Serm. at Whitehall_, _March_ 12. 1664. _p._ 17. [18] _Dr. Ferne, Division of Churches_, _p._ 46, 61. _Chillinw. p._ 57. [19] _Stillingfl. p._ 1, 3. [20] _Chillinw. p._ 59, 100. [21] _p._ 140. [22] _p._ 118. 140. & 166. [23] _Chillingw. p._ 307. [24] 2 _Pet._ 3. 16. CONFERENCE II. _The Socinians Protestant-Plea, For his not holding any thing contrary to the unanimous sense of the Catholick Church, so far as this can justly oblige._ 1st. _That an unanimous Consent of the_ whole _Catholick Church in all ages, such as the Protestants require for the proving of a point of faith to be necessary, can never be shewed, concerning this point of_ Consubstantiality. §. 14. _And that the consent, to such a doctrine of the_ major part _is no argument sufficient, since the Protestants deny the like consent valid for several other points._ §. 14. 2. _That supposing an unanimous consent of the Church Catholick of all ages in this point, yet from hence a Christian hath no security of the truth thereof according to Protestant Principles, if this point, (whether way soever held) be a non-necessary; for that in such, it is said the_ whole _Church may err._ §. 15. 3. _That this Article's being in the affirmative, put in the Creed proves it not (as to the affirmative) a Necessary._ §. 16. 1st. _Because not originally in the Creed, but added by a Council; to which Creed if one Council may add, so may another of equal authority in any age, whatever restraint be made by a former Council._ 2. _Because several Articles of the latter Creeds are affirmed by Protestants not necessary to be believed, but upon a previous conviction, that they are divine revelation._ §. 16. 4. _Lastly. That though the whole Church delivers for truth in any point, the contrary to that he holds, he is not obliged to resign his judgment to her's, except conditionally, and with this reservation, unless on the other side, there appear evidence to him in God's Word. Now, of the evidence of Scripture in this point on his side, that he hath no doubt._ §. 17. §. 13. 2. Now to resume the _Conference_. The _Protestant_, better thinking on it, will not leave the Socinian thus at rest in this plerophory of his own sense of Scripture, but thus proceeds. _Prot. Scriptures_ indeed are not so clear and perspicuous to every one[25] _as that Art and subtilty may not be used to pervert the Catholick doctrine, and to wrest the plain places of Scripture which deliver it, so far from their proper meaning, that very few ordinary capacities may be able to clear themselves of such mists as are cast before their eyes, even_ in the great Articles of the Christian faith. Therefore why do not you submit your judgment, and assent to _the sense of Scripture_, in this point _unanimously delivered by the consent of the Catholick Church_; which also is believed always unerrable in any necessary point of faith, as this is? _Soc._ First, If you can shew me _an unanimous consent_ of the Church Catholick of all ages in this point, and that as held necessary, I will willingly submit to it. But this you can never do according to such a proof thereof, as is required, _viz._ [26]_That all Catholick Writers agree in the belief of it; and none of them oppose it: and agree also in the belief of the necessity of it to all Christians. * That no later Writers and Fathers, in opposition of Hereticks, or heats of contention, judged then the Article so opposed to be more necessary than it was judged before the contention. * That all Writers, that give an account of the faith of Christians, deliver it; And deliver it not as necessary to be believed by such as might be convinced that it is of divine Revelation, but with a necessity of its being explicitely believed by all_[27]. Now, no such unanimous consent can be pretended for the forementioned _Consubstantiality_. For, not to speak of the times next following the Council of _Nice_, nor yet of several expressions in the Ancients, _Justin Martyr_, _Irenæus_, _Tertullian_, _Clemens Alexandrinus_, _Origen_, that seem to favour our opinion[28]: Nor, of those Eastern Bishops, which _Arrius_, in his Letter to _Eusebius Nicomed._[29] (numbers on his side,) _Hilarius_[30] relates no less than Eighty Bishops before that Council, to have disallowed the reception of the word +homousios+; and in the Council also Seventeen, (some of note) at first to have dissented from the rest. §. 14. _Prot._ Not yeilding what you say for truth; but for the present, supposing it; yet the Judgment of so _small_ a _party_ may by no means be adhered to by you, it being inconsiderable in respect of the _whole Body_ of the Catholick Church declaring against you. _Soc._ If the consent of the much major part is to be taken for the whole, then the Reformed cannot maintain their dissent from the much more numerous body of Christianity, that opposed their opinions, and sense of Scriptures at the beginning of the Reformation, and do still oppose them. But not to stand upon this, I would willingly conform to the unanimous, or most general judgment of the Church Catholick; if I were secure that she could not be mistaken in it. But [31]_The sense of the Church Catholick is no infallible rule of interpreting Scripture in all things which concern the Rule of Faith--[32]Nor may she usurp that royal Prerogative of Heaven, in prescribing infallibly in matters questioned._ _Prot._ You may be secure, that she never erreth in any point _necessary_. _Soc._ But you tell me, that though she never err in necessaries, yet it follows not, that she is an _unerring Guide or Witness_ therein[33] or, _that she must unerringly declare what points are necessary and what not_; and I must first learn, whether this point of _Consubstantiality_ is to be numbred among _necessaries_, before I can be assured, that the sense of the Church Catholick errs not therein. §. 15. _Prot._ But [34]_It is a sufficient prescription against any thing which can be alledged out of Scripture, that it ought not to be looked on as the true meaning of Scripture, if it appear contrary to the sense of the Church Catholick from the beginning; and therefore such doctrines may well be judged destructive to the rule of Faith, which have been so unanimously condemned by the Church Catholick._ _Soc._ Why so? _Prot._ [35]_Because nothing contrary to the necessary Articles of Faith can be so held by the Catholick Church; for its very Being depends on its belief of necessaries to salvation._ _Soc._ This last is most true; but then, if you mean to make your discourse cohere, you must say, it is a sufficient prescription, _&c._ if it appear contrary to the sense of the Catholick Church, _viz. in a point necessary_: for, the reason you give carries, and secures you no further; and then that which you say is no great matter: For, here we are still to seek, whether the point we discourse of is in the affirmative such a _necessary_. §. 16. _Prot._ But this is ranked among those points which the Church hath put in her Creeds. _Soc._ From the beginning this Article was not in the Creed; and though it should be granted that all points necessary are contained in the Creeds, yet all in the Creeds are not thought points necessary: [36]_Necessary so, as to be believed by any before a clear conviction of the divine Revelation thereof_: which conviction I yet want. §. 17. _Prot._ But yet, though, first the Catholick Church may err in _non-necessaries_; And 2ly. in what points are _necessary_, what not, her judgment be not infallible, yet you have still great reason to submit your judgment to hers; because, if it happen to be a point necessary, she is from the divine Promise infallible and unerring in it; not so, you. 2. If not necessary, and so both she and you therein liable to error, yet you much the more; and she also in these things is appointed by God for your Teacher and Guide. _Soc._ Therefore I use the help and direction of my spiritual Guides; consider their reasons; do not rashly depart from their judgment; but yet [37]_The due submission of my assent, and belief to them is only to be conditional, with reservation of evidence in God's Word. For in matter of faith_ (as Dr. _Ferne_ saith) _I cannot submit to any company of men by resignation of my judgment and belief to receive for faith all that they shall define, for such resignation stands excluded by the condition of the authority which is not infallible; and by the condition of the matter, faith, of high concernment to our own souls, and to be accounted for by_ our selves: _who therefore stand bound to make present, and diligent search for that evidence and demonstration from God's Word, upon which we may finally and securely stay our belief_----And [38]_The Church determining matter of faith_ (saith he) _ought to manifest it out of_ God's Word: _and we may expect such Churches, proof, before we yield absolute assent of belief._ And so Dr. _Stillingfleet_ saith[39]----_All men ought to be left to judge according to the Pandects of the divine Laws, because each member of this Society is bound to take care of his Soul, and of all things that tend thereto._ Now I for my part see no solid ground out of the Scripture for _Consubstantiality_, but rather for the contrary; which several of our Writers have made appear to the world. And therefore unless the Church were either infallible in all she determined, or at least in distinguishing those necessaries wherein she cannot err from the rest, it seems no way justifiable, that she puts this her definition into the Creed; she, as I conceive, thus requiring from all an absolute consent thereto; and not only (as some[40] would perswade me) a conditional for some of them, _viz._ whenever I shall be clearly convinced, that such point is of divine Revelation. [25] _Stillingfl. p._ 58, 59. [26] _Stillingfl. p._ 72. [27] See before _Dis._ 3. §. 52. [28] _See Petavius in Epipha. Hær._ 69. [29] _Apud Epipha. Hær._ 69.--_Theodor. l._ 1. _c._ 5. [30] _De Synod._ [31] _Still. p._ 59. [32] _Stillingfl. p._ 133. [33] _Stilling. p._ 154, 152.--_Chillingw. p._ 150.--_Dr. Hammond, Defence of the Lord Falkl. p._ 23. [34] _Stillingfl. p._ 59. [35] _Stilling. ib._ [36] _Stillingfl. p._ 70, 71. [37] _Dr. Ferne, Considerations_, _p._ 10. [38] _The Case between the Churches_, _p._ 40. [39] _p._ 133. [40] _Still. p._ 70. CONFERENCE III. His Plea, for his not holding any thing contrary to the Definitions of _lawful General Councils_, the just conditions thereof observed. _That he conceives he ows no obedience to the Council of_ Nice. 1. _Because this cannot be proved to have been a lawful General Council with so much certainty, as is necessary for the ground of his Faith, as appears by those many questions mentioned by Mr._ Chillingworth, Stillingfleet, _and other Protestants, wherein he must first be satisfied, concerning it._ 2. _Because, though it were a General Council, yet it might err even in necessaries, if it were not universally accepted; as he can shew it was not._ 3. _That, though yielded to be generally accepted, it might err still in non-necessaries; and that Protestants cannot prove this point to be otherwise._ 4. _That the Leaders of this Council were plainly a party contesting this, for many years before, with the other side condemned by them; and were Judges in their own cause._ 5. _All these exceptions cancelled, and Obedience granted due to this Council; yet, that so, there is due to it not that of_ assent, _but only of_ silence. §. 19. 6. _But yet not that of silence neither from him; considering his present perswasion, that indeed the affirmative in this point is an error_ manifest _and_ intolerable: _concerning which matter his party having long complained to their Superiors, and produced sufficient evidence; yet these have proceeded to no redress of it._ §. 20. 7. _But yet that he will submit to the Judgment of a future Council, if it, rightly considering the reasons of his tenent, decree that which is according to God's Word, and he be convinced thereof._ §. 22. §. 18. 3. _Prot._ But do you not consider by what persons this Article was long ago inserted into the Creed: Namely, by the _first General_, and the most venerable Assembly of the _Fathers_ of the Church that hath been convened since the _Apostles_ times; celebrated under the _first Christian_ Emperor by a perfect Representative of the Catholick Church; and by such persons, as came very much purified out of the newly-quenched fire of the greatest persecution that the Church hath suffered, that under _Dioclesian_; will not you then at least submit your judgment to the Decree of this great and Holy Council; one and the first of those four which St. _Gregory_ said he received with the same reverence, as the four Gospels? _Soc._ No, And for this I shall give you in brief many reasons, as I conceive satisfactory. For 1. Had I an obligation of submission of judgment to lawful General Councils, you cannot prove this such a one, and those the decrees thereof which are now extant, with such a certainty as is necessary to build thereon an Article of my Faith. For to prove this, you must satisfie me in all those things questioned concerning General Councils * by M. _Chillingworth_, p. 94. * By Dr. _Pierce_ in his answer to Mr. _Cressy_, p. 18. &c. * By Mr. _Whitby_ from p. 428. to p. 433. [where he concludes: 1. _That we never had a General Council._ 2. _That a General Council is a thing impossible_.] * By Mr. _Stillingfleet_ p. 508. &c.----495. 119. 123. &c. Who also, against the being of such a General Council as is the Representative of the whole Church Catholick, thus disputes[41]----_The representation of a Church_ (saith he) _by a General Council, is a thing not so evident, from whence it should come: for if such representative of the whole Church there be, it must either be so by some formal act of the Church, or by a tacite consent. It could not be by any formal act of the Church; for then there must be some such act of the universal Church preceding the being of any General Council, by which they receive their Commission to appear in behalf of the universal Church. Now that the universal Church did ever agree in any such act is utterly impossible to be demonstrated, either that it could be, or that it was. But if it be said, that such a formal act is not necessary, but the tacite consent of the whole Church is sufficient for it; then such a consent of the Church must be made evident, by which, they did devolve over the power of the whole Church to such a_ Representative. _And all these must consent in that act whose power the Council pretends to have; of which no footsteps appear----The utmost then_ (saith he) _that can be supposed in this case, is, that the parts of the Church may voluntarily consent to accept of the decrees of such a Council; and by that voluntary act, or by the supreme authority enjoyning it, such decrees may become obligatory._ Thus he. But I suppose its Decrees obligatory then only to those parts of the Church that voluntarily consent to accept of them, as the _Arians_ did not to receive the _Decrees_ of _Nice_. Lastly, by * Bishop _Taylor_ in the 2d. Part of his _Disswasive_, _l._ 1. §. 1. p. 29. _&c._ to the end of the Section. Where p. 31. he saith concerning this of _Nice_, that makes for you, compared with that of _Ariminum_, which makes for us----_That if a Catholick producing the Nicene Council be rencountred by an Arian producing the Council of_ Ariminium _which was far more numerous, here are_ aquilis aquilæ & pila minantia pilis: _but who shall prevail? If a General Council be the rule and guide, they will both prevail, that is, neither. And it ought not to be said by the Catholick; Yea, but our Council determined for the truth; but yours for error: For, the_ Arian _will say so too. But, whether they do or no, yet it is plain that they may both say so: and if they do, then we do not find the truth out by the conduct and decision of a General Council; but we approve this General, because upon other accounts we believe that what is there defined is true. And therefore_ S. Austin's _way here is best_, Neque ego Nicænum Concilium, neque tu Ariminense, _&c. both sides pretend to General Councils: that which both equally pretend to, will help neither; therefore let us go to Scripture._ And _p._ 32.----_What is the reason_ (saith he of Councils in General) _that some Councils are partly condemned: the Council of_ Sardis, _that in_ Trullo, _those of_ Frankford, Constance, _and_ Basil? _but that every man and every Church accepts the Councils as far as they please, and no further? The Greeks receive but seven General Councils, the Lutherans six, the Eutychians three, Nestorians two_, &c.----Pro captu lectoris habent sua fata. _It is as every one likes._ I spare to tell you what he saith, _p._ 26.--_That in the first General Council of_ Jerusalem, _which was the first precedent, and ought to be the true measure of the rest, the Apostles were the Presidents, and the Presbyters Assistants, but the Church_ [viz. _the converted brethren and the Laity_, see p. 36.] _was the Body of the Council, and were Parties in the Decree_, quoting _Acts_ 15, 22, 23. _and that we can have no other warrant of an authentick Council than this._ 2. Though it be shewed a lawful General Council, representing the whole Church (as it ought, if such) yet what obligation can there lye upon me of consenting to it? since it may _err_ even in _Fundamentals_, if it be not universally accepted, as indeed this Council was not, for several Bishops there were, that were dissenters in the Council, and many more afterward.[42] 3. Were it universally accepted; yet unless you can shew me by some means, that this point wherein I differ from its judgment, is a fundamental or necessary point to salvation, both it, and the Catholick Church also that accepts it may err therein. 4. The judgment of this Council seems justly declinable also on this account. That whereas the _Guides_ of the _Church_, many years before this Council were divided in their opinion, _Alexander_ Patriarch of _Alexandria_, and _Hosius_ a Favorite of the Emperor heading one party; and _Arius_ and the Bishops adhering to him, whom I mentioned formerly[43], heading another, and whereas afterward, in the prosecution of this difference, both the foresaid _Alexander_ in one _Provincial Council_ held in _Egypt_, and _Hosius_ sent thither by the Emperor in another, had there condemned _Arius_, and his Confederates; yet so it was ordered, that in this General Council assembled for an equal hearing and decision of this Controversie of these two professed Enemies to the other party, the one (_Hosius_) was appointed to sit as President of this Council; and the other (_Alexander_) held in it the next place to him; and poor _Arius_ excluded; and the Bishops who favoured him in the Council, though at first freely declaring their dissent, yet at last over-awed to a subscription; as also was _Arius_ himself chiefly by the Emperor _Constantine_'s overbearing authority; who, before somewhat indifferent in the contest, yet upon Arius his undutiful and too peremptory Letters, had some years before taken great offence at him; and also (as he was very eloquent) publickly written against him[44]. Which _overawing_ hence appears, in that the same _Bishops_ that were adherents to _Arius_, when, this Emperor being deceased, _Constantius_ his Son countenanced their Cause, returned, I say not to their former Opinion only, but to their publick profession of it. By which we may guess, that if the Controversie had at that time been committed to equal and disengaged Judges, and such as had not formerly shewed themselves a Party; or, if the Oriental Bishops, without any fear of the Prince upon them, might have given free Votes; and the _Arian_ Cause had then had a _Constantius_ instead of a _Constantine_, (things wherein Protestants well understand me, because on the same Grounds they have rejected the Council of _Trent_) we may presume then the issue would have been under _Constantine_ the same that it was under his Successor, I say before Judges equal and indifferent, and not such as were before a Party, though this Party should be compounded of the chief Superior Prelates of the Church. For, as Dr. _Stillingfleet_ urgeth, [45]----_We must either absolutely, and roundly assert, that it is impossible that the Superiors in the Church may be guilty of any error or corruption; or, that if they be, they must never be called to an account for it; or else, that it may be just, in some Cases, to except against them as Parties: And if in some Cases, then the Question comes to this, Whether the present_ [he speaks of Idolatry, I of Consubstantiality] _be some of these Cases or no? And here if we make those Superiors Judges again, what we granted before comes to nothing._ _Prot._ No Person that is appointed by our Lord to be a Judge in any Controversie (as those Bishops you have mentioned were in the Cause of _Arius_) can rightly or properly be said to be, on that Side for which he gives Sentence, a Party. Nor doth their giving Sentence once against any Side, prejudice them (as supposed Enemies, or Opposites, or Interested) from sitting on the Bench, as oft as need requires, to pass it again, alone, or with others. But, if every one may be afterward called an Anti-party, who once declares himself of a contrary Judgment, I perceive Mr. _Chillingworth_'s Observation is right, [46]_That, in Controversies in Religion, it is in a manner impossible to be avoided, but the Judge must be a Party._ I add also, That in Matters of Religion, where every Man is concerned, and in great Controversies, especially where is any division of Communion, all, both _Laity_ and _Clergy_, speedily own, and range themselves on one side or other; _Clergy_ interessing themselves for the necessary direction of their _Subjects_; _Laity_, in obedience to their _Superiors_; neither can such a Judge be nominated, that is not to one side suspected. So that, in Controversies of Religion, we must deny any Judge (as he did[47]); or this Plea, That the ordinary Judge, that is assigned us, is a _Party_, must not be easily hearkened to. As for that you urge out of Bishop _Taylor_, concerning the _Laity_ in the first Council at _Jerusalem_ (the Pattern to all following) being Parties in the Decree, I suppose it is meant no further, than that also these may assist in the Council, and give there a consentient, or attesting, but not a decisive Vote: which neither did the Emperors claim, when they presided therein. _See Dr. Field of the Church, p._ 646. §. 19. _Soc._ But I have not yet said all. For Fifthly, Were there none of the forenamed defects in it, [48]_No Authority on Earth can oblige to_ internal assent _in matters of Faith, or to any farther Obedience than that of_ Silence. _Prot._ Yes, you stand obliged to yield a _conditional_ assent, at least to the Definitions of these highest Courts, _i. e._ unless you can bring evident _Scripture_, or _Demonstration_ against them. _Soc._ I do not think Protestant Divines agree in this. I find indeed the Archbishop[49] requiring Evidence and Demonstration, for Inferiors _contradicting_, or publishing their dissent from the Councils Decrees, but not requiring thus much for their _denial_ of _assent_. And I am told, [50]--_That in matters proposed by my Superiors, as_ God's Word, _and of_ Faith, _I am not tied to believe it such, till they manifest it to me to be_ so; _and not that I am to believe it such, unless I can manifest it to be_ contrary, _because my Faith can rest on no Humane Authority, but only on God's Word, and Divine Revelation._ And Dr. _Field_ saith,--[51]_It is not necessary expresly to believe, whatsoever the Council hath concluded, though it be true, unless by some other means it appear unto us to be true, and we be convinced of it in some other sort than by the bare Determination of the Council._ Till I am convinced then of my Error, the Obedience of _Silence_ is the most that can be required of me. §. 20 But sixthly, I conceive my self in this point not obliged to this neither; considering my present persuasion, that this Council _manifestly_ erred; and that, in an error of such high consequence (concerning the _unity_ of the _most high God_) as is no way to be tolerated; and I want not evident Scriptures, and many other unanswerable Demonstrations, to shew it did so; and therefore being admitted into the honourable Function of the Ministry, I conceive I have a lawful Commission from an _higher Authority_, to publish this great Truth of _God_, and to contradict the _Councils_ Decree. §. 21. _Prot._ But you may easily mistake that for _evident Scripture_, and those for _Demonstrations_, that are not. Concerning which you know what the Archbishop and Mr. _Hooker_ say[52]----_That they are such, as proposed to any man, and understood, the mind cannot chuse but inwardly assent to them_[53]. You ought therefore first to propose these to your Superiors, or to the Church, desiring a redress of such Error by her calling another Council. And, if these Superiors, acquainted therewith, dislike your Demonstrations, which the Definition saith, if they be right ones, they must be by all, and therefore by them, assented to, methinks, (though this is not said by the Archbishop) in humility you ought also to suspect these Demonstrations, and remain in silence at least, and no further trouble the Church. _Soc._ May therefore no particular Person, or Church, proceed to a Reformation of a former Doctrine, if these Superiors, first complained to, declare the Grounds of such Persons or Churches for it, not sufficient? _Prot._ I must not say so. But if they neglect (as they may) to consider their _just_ Reasons so diligently as they ought, and to call a Council for the Correcting of such Error according to the weight of these Reasons, then here is place for Inferiors to proceed to a reformation of such Error without them. _Soc._ And who then shall judge, whether the Reasons pretended are _defective_, or rather the present Church _negligent_ in considering them? _Prot._ Here, I confess, to make _the Superiors_ Judges of this, is to cast the Plaintiff before that any Council shall hear his Grievance, these Superiors, whose Faith appears to adhere to the former Council, being only Judges in their own Cause; and so the liberty of complaining will come to nothing[54]. _Soc._ The Inferiors then, that complain, I suppose are to judge of this. To proceed then. To these Superiors, in many diligent Writings, we have proposed, as we think, many unanswerable Scriptures, and Reasons much advanced beyond those represented by our Party to the former _Nicene_ Council (and therefore from which Evidences of ours we have just cause to hope from a future Council a contrary Sentence); and finding no redress by their calling another Council for a reviewing this Point, we cannot but conceive it as lawful for a Socinian Church, Pastor, or Bishop, to reform for themselves, and the Souls committed to them, in an Error appearing to them _manifest_ and _intolerable_, as for the Protestants, or for Dr. _Luther_, to have done the same for Transubstantiation, Sacrifice of the Mass, and other Points that have been concluded, against the Truth, by several former Councils. _Prot._ But such were not _lawful General Councils_, as that of _Nice_ was. _Soc._ Whatever these Councils were, this much matters not, as to a _reformation_ from them; for, had they been lawfully General, yet Protestants hold[55], these not universally accepted may err even in _Fundamentals_; or, when so accepted, yet may err in Non-fundamentals; Errors _manifest_, and _intolerable_, and so may be appealed from to future; and those not called, their Error presently rectified by such Parts of Christianity as discern it; and also S. _Austin_[56] is frequently quoted by them, saying----_That past General Councils erring, may be corrected by other Councils following_. §. 22. _Prot._ But I pray you consider, if that famous Council of _Nice_ hath so erred, another Council called, may it also not err, notwithstanding your Evidences proposed to it? For, though perhaps some new demonstrative Proofs you may pretend from several Texts more accurately compared and explained; yet you will not deny this sufficient Evidence to have been extant for that most Learned Council to have seen the Truth, having then the same entire Rule of Faith as you now, the Scriptures, (in which, you say, your clearest Evidences lie) for their direction. When a Future Council (then) is assembled, and hath heard your Plea, will you _assent_ to it, and acquiesce in the Judgment thereof? _Soc._ Yes, interposing the Protestant-Conditions of Assent, _If its Decree be according to God's Word, and we convinced thereof_. _Prot._ Why, such a submission of Judgment and Assent I suppose you will presently yield to me in any thing, whereof you are convinced by me; may this future Council then challenge no further Duty from you? why then should the Church be troubled to call it? _Soc._ [57]_Though this Future Council also should err, yet it may afford Remedy against Inconveniences; and one great Inconvenience being, Breaking the Church's Peace; this is remedied by its Authority_, if I only yield the Obedience of Silence thereto. _Prot._ But if your Obedience oblige not to _silence_ concerning Councils past, because of your new Evidences, neither will it to a future, if you think it also doth err; and either these Evidences remain still unsatisfied, or these satisfied, yet some other new ones appear to call for a new Consideration. _Soc._ [58]_Because it may also err, it follows not it must err; and it is probable that it shall not err, when the former Error is thus discovered, and if the Council proceed lawfully, be not overawed,_ &c.[59] But however, if I ought upon this review to be restrained to _silence_, yet, I not convinced of the truth of its Decree, this Silence is the uttermost that any future Council, after its rejecting my Reasons, can justly exact of me; and not _belief_, or _assent_, at all: It may not oblige me, that I should relinquish that you call _Socinianism_ at all, but that, not divulge it; whereas now by the Acts of _former_ Councils (I would gladly know upon what rational ground) an _Anathema_ is pronounced against me, if I do not believe the contrary, and I am declared to stand guilty of _Heresie_ meerly for retaining this Opinion; which retaining it is called _obstinacy_ and _contumacy_ in me, after the Councils contrary _Definition_. [41] _p._ 515, 516. [42] _See before_, §. 13. [43] §. 13. [44] _See Baronius._ A. D. 318, 319. [45] §. 478. [46] _p._ 60. [47] _Ib._ §. 10. [48] _Whitby_, _p._ 15. _Stillingfleet_, _p._ 506, 537. [49] §. 32. _n._ 5. & §. 33. _consid._ 5. _n._ 1. [50] _Dr. Ferne, Case between the Churches_, _p._ 48, 49. & _Division of Churches_, _p._ 45. [51] _p._ 666. [52] _A. B. Laud_ 245. [53] _Id._ _p._ 227. [54] _Stillingfl. p._ 479, 292. [55] _See before, Disc_. 3. §. 34, _&c._ [56] _De Baptismo_, _l._ 2. _c._ 3. [57] _Stillingfl. p._ 542. [58] _Stillingfl. ibid._ [59] _Id. p._ 526. CONFERENCE IV. His Plea, for his not being guilty of _Heresie_. _That he cannot rightly according to Protestant Principles, be accused as guilty of_ Heresie, _for several reasons._ 1. _Because Protestants holding Heresie to be an_ obstinate _defence of some error against a fundamental, he thinks from hence his tenent freed from being an Heresie, as long as in silence he retains it, unless he engage further, to a publick pertinacious maintaining thereof._ §. 23. 2. _Fundamentals varying according to particular persons, and sufficient proposal; none can conclude this point in the affirmative, to be,_ as to him, _a fundamental, or, of the truth of which he hath had a sufficient proposal._ 3. _That a lawful General Council's declaring some point Heresie, doth not necessarily argue that it is so; because they may err in Fundamentals; or at least in distinguishing them from other points._ §. 26. 4. _That he can have no autocatacrisie or obstinacy in a dissenting from their Definitions, till he is either actually convinced, or at least hath had a sufficient proposal either of the truth of such point defined: that such Councils have authority to require submission, of judgment, and assent to their Definitions: of which conviction or sufficient proposal (that varies much, according to the differing conditions of several persons) as to himself, none can judge save himself: and, consequently, neither can they judge of his guilt of Heresie._ Ib. §. 23. 4. _Prot._ You know that all _Hereticks_ are most justly _anathematized_, and cut off from being any longer Members of the Catholick Church, and so do remain excluded also from Salvation. Now this _Tenent_ of yours hath always been esteemed by the Church of God a most pernicious _Heresie_. _Soc._ I confess _Heresie_ a most grievous Crime, dread and abhor it, and trust I am most free from such a guilt; and from this I have many ways of clearing my self. For Heresie (as Mr. _Chillingworth_ defines it) [60]being not an erring, but an _obstinate_ defence of an Error; not of any Error, but of one against a _necessary_ or _fundamental_ Article of the Christian Faith. First, Though this which I hold should be an error, and that against a Fundamental, yet my silence practised therein, can never be called an obstinate defence thereof, and therefore not my tenent an _Heresie_. 2. Since Fundamentals vary according to particular persons, and (as Mr. _Chillingworth_ saith[61])--_No Catalogue thereof, that can be given, can universally serve for all men; God requiring more of them, to whom he gives more, and less of them, to whom he gives less;--And that may be sufficiently declared to one (all things considered) which (all things considered) is not to another sufficiently declared: and variety of circumstances makes it as impossible to set down an exact Catalogue of Fundamentals, as to make a Coat to fit the Moon in all her changes_: And (as Mr. _Stillingfleet_ follows him[62]) _since the measure of Fundamentals depends on the sufficiency of the proposition; and none can assign what number of things are sufficiently propounded to the belief of all persons, or set down the exact bounds, as to all individuals, when their ignorance is inexcusable, and when not; or tell what is the measure of their capacity; what allowance God makes for the prejudice of Education_, &c. Hence I conceive my self free from Heresie, in this my opinion, on this score also; because though the contrary be to some others a Fundamental truth, and to be explicitly believed by them; yet to me, as not having any sufficient proposal, or conviction thereof, but rather of the contrary, it is no _Fundamental_, and consequently, my tenent opposing it, if an _error_, yet no _Heresie_. §. 24. _Prot._ Do not deceive your self; for though according to different revelations, to those that were without Law, or those under the Law, or those under the Gospel; _Fundamentals_ generally spoken of, might be more to some than others; yet to all those who know and embrace the Gospel, we say[63]; all Fundamentals are therein clearly proposed to all reasonable men, even the unlearned; and therefore the erring therein, to all such, cannot but be obstinate and Heretical. _Soc._ Unless you mean only this, That all Fundamentals, (_i.e._ so many as are required of any one) are clear to him in Scripture; but not all the same Fundamentals, there clear to every one; but to some more of them; to some fewer; I see not how this last said, accords with that said before by the same person. But if you mean thus, then _Consubstantiality_, (the point we talk of) may be a Fundamental to you, and clear in Scripture, but also not clear to me in Scripture, and so no Fundamental, and hence I think my self safe. For,----[64]_I believing all that is clear to me in Scripture, must needs believe all Fundamentals; and so I cannot incurr Heresie, which is opposite to some fundamental_----[65]_The Scripture sufficiently informing me what is the Faith, must of necessity also teach me what is Heresie: That which is streight will plainly teach us what is crooked; and one contrary cannot but manifest the other._ §. 25. _Prot._ I pray you consider a little better what you said last; for since Heresie as you grant it, is an obstinate defence of error only against some _necessary_ point of Faith; and all truth delivered in Scripture is not such; unless you can also distinguish, in Scripture, these points of necessary Faith from others, you can have no certain knowledge of Heresie, and the believing all that is delivered in Scripture, though it may preserve you from _incurring_ Heresie, yet cannot direct you at all for _knowing_ or _discerning_ Heresie, or an error against a fundamental or a necessary point of Faith, from other simple and less dangerous errors, that are not so: nor, by this can you ever know what errors are Heresies, what not; and so after all your confidence, if by your neglect you happen not to believe some Scriptures in their true sense, you can have no security in your Fundamental, or necessary Faith; or of your not incurring _Heresie_. Neither, Secondly, according to your discourse, hath the Church any means to know any one to be an _Heretick_; because she can never know the just latitude of his fundamentals. And so _Heresie_ will be a grievous sin indeed; but walking under such a vizard of non-sufficient proposal, as the Ecclesiastical Superiors cannot discover or punish it. Therefore to avoid such confusion in the Christian Faith, there hath been alwaies acknowledged in the Church some authority for declaring Heresie; and it may seem conviction enough to you, that her _most General Councils_ have defined the contrary position to what you maintain; and received it for a _fundamental_. Of which Ecclesiastical Authority for declaring Heresie, thus Dr. _Potter_, [66]----_The Catholick Church is careful to ground all her declarations in matters of Faith, upon the divine authority of Gods written word. And therefore whosoever wilfully opposeth a judgment so well grounded, is justly esteemed an Heretick; not properly because he disobeys the Church; but because he yields not to Scripture sufficiently propounded, or cleared unto him_ [i. e. by the Church.] Where the Doctor seems to grant these two things: That all that the Catholick Church declares against Heresie is grounded upon the Scripture; and that all such as oppose her judgment are Hereticks: but only he adds, that they are not Hereticks properly, or formally for this opposing the Church, but for opposing the Scriptures. Whilst therefore the _formalis ratio_ of Heresie is disputed, that all such are Hereticks seems granted. And the same Dr. elsewhere concludes thus, [67]----_The mistaker will never prove, that we oppose any Declaration of the Catholick Church_, [he means such a Church as makes Declarations, and that must be in her Councils]----_And therefore he doth unjustly charge us with Heresie._ And again, he saith, [68]----_Whatsoever opinion these ancient writers_ [S. Austin, Epiphanius and others] _conceived to be contrary to the common or approved opinion of Christians, that they called an Heresie, because it differed from the received opinion; not because it opposed any formal Definition of the Church_: where, in saying, _not because it opposed any Definition_, he means, _not only because_. For, whilst that, which differed from the received opinion of the Church, was accounted an Heresie by them, that, which differed from a formal definition of the Church, was so much more. Something I find also for your better information, in the Learned Dr. _Hammond_, [69]commenting on that notable Text in _Titus_----_A man that is an Heretick after the first and second admonition, reject_, [a Text implying contrary to your discourse, Heresie discoverable, and censurable by the Church,] where he explains +autokatakritos+ _self-condemned; not to signifie a mans publick accusing or condemning his own doctrines or practices; for that condemnation would rather be a motive to free one from the Church's Censures. Nor 2ly to denote one that offends against Conscience, and though he knows he be in the wrong, yet holds out in opposition to the Church; for so, none but Hypocrites would be Hereticks; and he that stood against the Doctrin of Christ and his Church in the purest times_ [you may guess whom he means] _should not be an Heretick: and so no Heretick could possibly be admonished or censured by the Church, for no man would acknowledge of himself, that what he did was by him done against his own Conscience_, [the plea which you also make here for your self.] _But to be an expression of his separation from, and disobedience to the Church; and so an evidence of the_ +exestraptai kai hamartanei+ _his being perverted, and sinning wilfully, and without excuse._ What say you to this? §. 26. _Soc._ What these Authors say, as you give their sense, seems to me contrary to the _Protestant_ Principles, [_See D._ Potter, _p._ 165, 167.----_D._ Hammond _of Heresie_, §. 7. _n._----§. 9. _n._ 8. _Def. of L. Falkl. c._ 1. _p._ 23.] and to their own positions elsewhere; neither, surely, will _Protestants_ tye themselves to this measure and trial of _autocatacrisie_. For, since they say; That lawful General Councils may err in Fundamentals; these Councils may also define, or declare something _Heresie_ that is not against a Fundamental; and if so, I, though in this self-convinced, that such is their Definition, yet am most free from Heresie in my not assenting to it, or (if they err intollerably) in opposing it. Again, since Protestants say, Councils may err in distinguishing Fundamentals, these Councils may err also in discerning Heresie, which is an error against a Fundamental, from other errors that are against non-Fundamentals. Again: Whilst I cannot distinguish Fundamentals in their Definitions, thus no Definition of a General Council may be receded from by me, for fear of my incurring Heresie; a consequence which Protestants allow not. Again: Since Protestants affirm all Fundamentals plain in Scripture, why should they place _autocatacrisie_, or self-conviction, in respect of the Declaration of the Church rather than of the Scripture? But, to requite your former quotations, I will shew in plainer Language the stating of Protestant Divines concerning Autocatacrisie as to the Definitions of the Church, under which my opinion also finds sufficient shelter; _We have no assurance at all_ (saith Bishop _Bramhall_[70]) _that all General Councils were, and always shall be so prudently managed, and their proceedings always so orderly and upright, that we dare make all their sentences a sufficient conviction of all Christians, which they are bound to believe under pain of damnation._ [I add, or under pain of Heresie]--And _Ib._ p. 102.----_I acknowledge_ (saith he) _that a General Council, may make that revealed truth necessary to be believed by a Christian as a point of Faith, which formerly was not necessary to be believed; that is, whensoever the reasons and grounds of truth produced by the Council, or the authority of the Council (which is, and always ought to be very great with all sober discreet Christians) do convince a man in his Conscience of the truth of the Councils Definitions_: which truth I am as yet not convinced of, neither from the reasons nor authority of the Council of _Nice_. Or, if you had rather have it out of Dr. _Potter_----_It is not resisting_ (saith he[71]) _the voice or definitive sentence, which makes an Heretick; but an obstinate standing out against evident Scripture sufficiently cleared unto him. And the Scripture may then be said to be sufficiently cleared when it is so opened, that a good and teachable mind_ (_loving and seeking truth_) [my Conscience convinceth me not, but that such I am] _cannot gainsay it._--Again [72]----_It is possible_ (saith he) _that the sentence of a Council or Church may be erroneous, either because the opinion condemned is no Heresie or error against the Faith, in it self considered; or because the party so condemned is not sufficiently convinced in his understanding (not clouded with prejudice, ambition, vain-glory, or the like passion) that it is an error_ [one of these I account my self.] Or out of Dr. _Hammond_, [73]----_It must be lawful for the Church of God_, [any Church, or any Christian, upon the Doctors reason,] _as well as for the Bishop of_ Rome, _to enquire whether the Decrees of an Universal Council have been agreeable to Apostolical Tradition or no; and if they be found otherwise, to eject them out, or not to receive them into their_ belief. _And then still it is the matter of the Decrees, and the Apostolicalness of them, and the force of the testification, whereby they are approved and acknowledged to be such, which gives the authority to the Council; and nothing else is sufficient, where that is not to be found._ And elsewhere he both denies in General an Infallibility of Councils, and grounds the Reverence due to the Four first Councils _on their setting down and convincing the truth of their Doctrin out of the Scripture words understood with piety,----and the fetching their Definitions regularly from the sense thereof, which the General Churches had received down from the Apostles_.[74] [Upon which follows, that, in such case, where a Lawful General Council doth not so, (as possibly it may, and Inferiors are to consider for themselves, whether it doth not) there may be no Heretical Autocatacrisie in a dissent from it, nor this dissent _an evidence of the_ +exestraptai+ _and_ +hamartanei+ _his being perverted and sinning wilfully, and without excuse._]----Lastly, thus Doctor _Stillingfleet_ concerning _Heresie_[75]----_The formal reason of Heresie is denying something supposed to be of divine Revelation; and therefore,_ 2ly. _None can reasonably be accused of Heresie, but such as have sufficient reason to believe, that that which they deny is revealed by God. And therefore,_ 3ly. _None can be guilty of Heresie for denying any thing declared by the Church; unless they have sufficient reason to believe, that whatever is declared by the Church is revealed by God; and therefore the Church's Definition cannot make any_ Hereticks, _but such as have reason to believe, that she cannot err in her Definitions._ From hence also he gathers, _That Protestants are in less danger of Heresie than Papists, till these give them more sufficient reasons to prove, that whatever the Church declares, is certainly revealed by God_. Thus he. Now such sufficient proving reasons as Protestants plead, that Papists have not yet given them concerning this matter of Church-Authority, I alledge, that neither have they nor others given me. To be _self-condemned_, therefore, in my dissent from the definition of the Council of _Nice_, I must first have sufficient reason proposed to me to believe, (and so remain self-condemned and Heretical in disbelieving it) this point; _viz._ That the Church, or her Council, hath power to define matters of Faith in such manner, as to require my assent thereto. Which so long as I find no sufficient reason to believe, I suppose I am freed (without obstinacy or Heresie, or being therein self-condemned,) from yielding assent to any particular matter of Faith, which the Church defines. And, had I sufficient reason proposed to me for believing this point, yet so long as I am not actually convinced thereof, I become only guilty of a fault of _ignorance_, not _obstinacy_, or _autocatacrisie_, or _Heresie_; for, if I am self-condemned, or guilty of obstinacy in disbelieving the foresaid points, [76]_Then I become so, either by the Church's definition of this point, or without it. By reason of the Church's definition of this it cannot be; for this very power of defining is the thing in question, and therefore cannot be cleared to me by the Church's defining it_[77]: and thus, _That thing is proposed to me in the definition to be believed, which must be supposed to be believed by me already, before such proposal or definition, or else the definition is not necessary to be believed_. [78]Nor _without_, or _before_ such definition, can I have an _autocatacrisie_; because this autocatacrisie, you say with Dr. _Hammond_, ariseth from my disobedience to the Church. _Prot._ Methinks, you make the same plea for your self in this matter, as if one, that is questioned for not obeying the _divine precepts_, or not believing the divine Revelations delivered in _Scripture_, should think to excuse himself by this answer; that indeed he doth not believe the _Scripture_ to be _God's Word_; and therefore he conceives, that he cannot reasonably be required to believe that which is contained therein. And, as such a person hath as much reason (though this, not from the Scripture, yet from Apostolical Tradition) to believe that Scripture is Gods Word, as to believe what is written in it; so have you, though not from the _Nicene_ Council defining it, yet from Scripture and Tradition manifesting it, as much reason to believe its authority of defining, as what is defined. It's true indeed; that had you not sufficient proposal, or sufficient reason to know this your duty of _Assent_ to this definition of the Council of _Nice_, you were faultless in it; but herein lies your danger, that from finding a _non actual conviction_ of the truth, within, (hindred there by I know not what supine negligence, or strong self-conceit, _&c._) you gather a _non-sufficient proposal_, without. § 27. _Soc._ It remains then to enquire, who shall judge concerning this _sufficient proposal_, or sufficient reason, which I am said to have, to believe what the _Nicene_ Council, or the Church hath declared in this point. [79]Whether the Church's judgment is to be taken by me in this, or my own made use of; If _her judgment_, the ground of my belief and of Heresie lies still in the Church's _definition_; and thus it will be all one in effect, whether I believe what she declares, without sufficient reason; or learn this of her, when there is sufficient reason to believe so. It must be then, _my own judgment_, I am to be directed by in this matter[80]: and if so, then it is to be presumed, that God doth both afford me some means not to be mistaken therein; and also some certain knowledge when I do use this means aright: (for, without these two I can have no security in my own judgment in a matter of so high concernment, as _Heresie_ and _fundamental Faith_ is.) Now this means, in this matter, I presume I have daily used, in that I find my Conscience, after much examination, therein to acquit me, unless you can prescribe me some other surer evidence, without sending me back again to the _authority_ of the _Church_. _Prot._ 1. Whilst your discovery of your tenent to be an _Heresie_ depends on your having sufficient reason to believe it is so. And 2. The judgment of your having, or not having sufficient reason to believe this, is left to your self, the Church hath no means to know you or any other to be an Heretick, till they declare themselves to be so. And thus, in striving to free your self from Heresie, you have freed all mankind from it, (as to any external discovery and convincement thereof) and cancelled such a sin; unless we can find one, that will confess himself to maintain a thing against his own Conscience. _Soc._ If I, so do the Protestants; for, they also hold none guilty of _Heresie_, for denying any thing declared by the Church, unless they have reason to believe, that whatever is declared by the Church is revealed by God; and of this sufficient reason they make not the _Church_ or _Superiors_, but _themselves_, the Judge. [60] _p._ 271. [61] _p._ 134. [62] _p._ 98. 99. [63] _Chillingw. p._ 92. [64] _Chillingw. p._ 367. [65] _Ib._ 101. [66] _p._ 97. [67] _p._ 132. [68] _p._ 103. [69] _Titus_ 3. 11. [70] _Reply to Chalced. p._ 105. [71] _p._ 128. [72] _p._ 129. [73] _Heresie_, _p._ 114. [74] _Of Heresie p._ 96. [75] _Rat. Account. p._ 73. [76] _Stillingfl. p._ 99. [77] _Stillingfl. p._ 74. [78] _Ib. p._ 99. [79] _Stillingfl. p._ 73. [80] _See Still. p._ 479. CONFERENCE V. His Plea, for his not being guilty of _Schism_. 1. _That the Socinian Churches have not forsaken the whole Church Catholick, or the external Communion of it: but only left one part of it that was corrupted; and reformed another part,_ (i.e.) _themselves. Or, that he, and the Socinian Churches, being a part of the Catholick, they have not separated from the whole, because not from themselves._ §. 28. 2. _That their separation being for an error unjustly imposed upon them as a condition of Communion, the Schism is not theirs, who made the separation; but theirs who caused it._ §. 29. _Besides that, whatever the truth of things be; yet so long as they are required by any Church to profess they believe, what they do not, their separation cannot be said causless, and so Schism._ §. 32. 3. _That though he and his party had forsaken the external Communion of all other Churches, yet not the internal; in which they remain still united to them: both in that internal Communion of_ Charity, _in not condemning all other Churches as non-Catholick; and in that of_ Faith, _in all Essentials and Fundamentals, and in all such points, wherein the Unity of the Church Catholick consists._ §. 30. 4. _That the doctrin of_ Consubstantiality _for which they departed, is denyed by them to be any Fundamental; nor can the Churches, from which they depart for it, be a competent Judge against them, that it is so._ §. 34. 5. _That, though they are separaters from the Roman, yet not from the Reformed Churches, which Churches leave men to the liberty of their own judgment; nor require any internal assent to their doctrins (in which thing these blame the tyranny of the Roman_ Church) _save only conditional, if any be convinced of the truth thereof; or, not convinced of the contrary._ §. 35. 6. _In fine, that for enjoying and continuing in the Protestant_ Communion _he maketh as full a profession of conformity to her Doctrins as_ Mr. Chillingworth _hath done in several places of his book, which yet was accepted as sufficient._ §. 41. §. 28. 5. _Prot._ I have yet one thing more, about which to question you. If you will not acknowledge your opinion _Heresie_ in opposing the publick judgment, and definition of the Catholick Church in that most reverend Council of _Nice_, upon pretence that you have not had a convincing Proposal, that this Definition was therein made according to _God's Word_, or the _Scriptures_; yet, how will you clear your self, or your Socinian Congregations of _Schism_? avoidable upon no plea of adherence to Scripture, if it shall appear, that you have for this opinion deserted the Communion of the _Catholick Church_; out of which Church is no Salvation. _Soc._ [81]_I grant there neither is, nor can be any just cause to depart from the Church of_ Christ; _no more than from_ Christ _himself: therefore I utterly deny, that our Churches have made any separation from the_ Church Catholick _at all: and this for many reasons. For_ 1st. [82]--_We have not forsaken the whole Church, or the external Communion of it: but only that_ part _of it which is corrupted, and still will be so; and have not forsaken, but only reformed another_ part _of it, which part_ we our selves _are: and I suppose you will not go about to perswade us, that we have forsaken_ our selves, _or our own Communion. And if you urge, that we joined our selves to no other part, therefore we separated from the whole: I say, it follows not, inasmuch as_ our selves _were a part of it, and still continued so, and therefore can no more separate from the whole, than from our selves._ _Prot._ So then, it seems we need fear no _Schism_, from the _Church Catholick_ till a part can divide from it self, which can never be. §. 29. _Soc._ Next, As for our separating from all other particular Churches, the ground of our Separation being an error, which hath crept into the Communion of these Churches, and which is unjustly imposed upon us in order to this Communion, we conceive, in this case, if any, _They, not We_, are the _Schismaticks_: for as the Arch-Bishop[83].----_The Schism is theirs, whose the Cause of it is; and he makes the separation, who gives the first just cause of it, not he that makes actual separation, upon a just cause preceding._ §. 30. Again, Though we have made an actual Separation from them, as to the not-conforming to, or also as to the reforming of an error: yet, First, _As to Charity_; we do still retain with the same Churches our former Communion.----_Not dividing from them through the breach of Charity; Or condemning all other Churches, as no parts of the Catholick Church, and drawing the Communion wholly to our selves, as did those famous Schismaticks, the Donatists._ [See Doctor _Ferne Division of Churches_, p. 105. and 31, 32.] §. 31. Next, _as to matter of Faith_: We hold that all separation from all particular Churches in such a thing, wherein the _unity_ of the Catholick Church doth not consist, is no separation from the whole Church, nor is any thing more, than our suspension from the Communion of particular Churches, till such their error is reformed; For, as Doctor _Stillingfleet_[84]----_There can be no separation from the whole Church, but in such things, wherein the unity of the whole Church lies:--Whoso therefore separates from any particular Church as to things not concerning their being, is only separated from the Communion of that Church, and not the Catholick._ Now, that for which we have separated from other Churches, we conceive not such, as is essential, or concerns the being of a Church so, that without it we or they cannot still retain the essence thereof; we declare also our readiness to joyn with them again, if this error be corrected, or at least not imposed: And [85](as Dr. _Stillingfleet_ saith)----_Where there is this readiness of Communion, there is no absolute separation from the Church as such, but only suspending Communion, till such abuses be reformed_, [or not pressed upon us]. And as Bishop Bramhall[86]----_When one part of the universal Church separateth it self from another part, not absolutely or in essentials, but respectively in abuses, and innovations, not as it is a part of the universal Church, but only so far as it is corrupted and degenerated_ [whether in doctrin or manners] _it doth still retain a Communion not only with the Catholick Church, and with all the Orthodox members of the Catholick Church, but even with that corrupted Church, from which it is separated, except only in such Corruptions._ §. 32. _Prot._ Saving better Judgments, methinks a separation (if causeless) from the Communion of all other Churches, or from those who are our Superiors, in a lesser matter than such a Fundamental or essential point of Christianity as destroys the being of a Church, should be _Schism_; and the smaller the point for which we separate, the greater the guilt of our separation. Were not the Donatists Schismaticks in rejecting the Catholick Communion, requiring their conformity in such a point, in which St. _Cyprian_'s error before the Church's defining thereof was very excusable; and the African Congregations in his time not un-churched thereby? _Soc._ [87]----_But the Donatists did cut off from the Body of Christ, and the hope of Salvation, the Church from which they separated, which is the property of Schismaticks._----And [88]----_They were justly charged with Schism, because they confined the Catholick Church within their own bounds._ But as Dr. _Ferne_ saith[89]--_Had the Donatists only used their liberty and judgment in that practice of re-baptizing Hereticks, leaving other Churches to their liberty; and (though thinking them in an error for admitting Hereticks, without baptizing them, yet) willing to have Communion with them, as parts of the Catholick Church (saving the practices wherein they differed), then had they not been guilty of Schism._ In that which I hold I only follow my Conscience, condemn not the Churches holding otherwise: On the other side [90]_Christ hath forbid me under pain of damnation to profess what I believe not_ [be it small or great] _and consequently under the same penalty hath obliged me to leave the Communion, in which I cannot remain without the Hypocritical Profession of such a thing, which I am convinced to be erroneous._ [91]_At least this I know, that the Doctrin which I have chosen, to me_ seems _true, and the contrary, which I have forsaken,_ seems _false: and therefore, without remorse of Conscience, I may profess that, but this I cannot: and a separation, for preserving my Conscience, I hope will never be judged causeless._ §. 33. _Prot._ At this rate none will be a Schismatick, but he who knows he erreth (_i. e._ not who holdeth, but only who professeth an error); or who knows, that the point, for the non-conformity to which, required of him, he deserts the Church, is a _Truth_, and the contrary, which he maintains, an error. But Doctor _Hammond_[92] tells you. _That he that doth not communicate with those_ [I suppose he means Superiors] _the condition of whose Communion contains nothing really erroneous or sinful, though the doctrin so proposed as the condition of their Communion, be apprehended by him, to whom it is thus proposed, to be false, remains in Schism._ _Soc._ And at this rate, all those, who separate from the Church, requiring their assent to what is indeed a truth, will be Schismaticks, (and that, whether in a point Fundamental, or not Fundamental,) though they have used all the industry, all the means they can (except this, the relying on their Superiors judgment) not to err; unless you will say, that all truths, even not Fundamental, are in Scripture so clear, that none using a right industry, can (neither) err in them; which no _Chillingworth_ hath maintained hitherto. §. 34. _Prot._ But we may let this pass; for, your separation was in a point perspicuous enough in Scripture (and so you void of such excuse): was in a point Essential and Fundamental, and in which a wrong belief destroys any longer Communion of a particular Person or Church, with the Catholick. _Soc._ This I utterly deny; nor see I by what way this can ever be proved against me, for you can assign no Ecclesiastical Judge that can distinguish Fundamentals, Necessaries, or Essentials, from those points that are not so, as hath been shewed already. And as Dr. _Stillingfleet_[93] urgeth concerning Heresie, so may I concerning Schism:----What are the measures whereby we ought to judge, what things are Essential to the being of Christianity, or of the Church? Whether must the _Church's judgment_ be taken, or every _mans own judgment_? if the _former_, the Ground of Schism lies still in the Church's definitions, contrary to what Protestants affirm: if _the latter_; then no one can be a Schismatick, but he, that opposeth that of which _he is_, or _may be convinced_, that it is a Fundamental, or essential matter of Faith. If he be only a Schismatick, that opposeth that, of which _he is convinced_; then no man is a Schismatick, but he that goes against his present Judgment; and so there will be few Schismaticks in the world; If he, that opposeth that, which _he may be convinced_ of; then again, it is that which _he may be convinced_ of, either in the Church's judgment or in his own: If in the Church's, it comes to the same issue, as in the former: If _in his own_; how I pray, shall I know, that I may be convinced of what, using a due indeavour, I am not convinced already? or, how shall I know, when a due industry is used? and if I cannot know this, how should I ever settle my self unless it be upon _Authority_, which you allow not. Again, I am taught, that any particular, whether Person or Church, may judge for themselves with the _Judgment_ of _Discretion_: And in the matter of Christian Communion,----[94]_That nothing can be more unreasonable, than that the Society_ [suppose it be a Council] _imposing conditions of its Communion_ [suppose the Council of _Nice_ imposing Consubstantiality so] _should be Judge, whether those conditions be just and equitable or no: And especially in this case, where a considerable Body of Christians judge such things required to be unlawful conditions of Communion, what justice or reason is there, that the party accused should sit judge in his own cause?_ _Prot._ By this way no _Separatist_ can ever be a _Schismatick_, if he is constituted the judge, whether the reason of his separation is just. _Soc._ And in the other way, there can never be any just cause of separation at all, if the Church-Governors, from whom I separate, are to judge, whether that be an error, for which I separate. §. 35. _Prot._ It seems something that you say: But yet, though upon such consideration, a free use of your own _judgment_, as to providing for your own Salvation is granted you; yet, methinks in this matter you have some greater cause to suspect it, since several Churches, having of late taken liberty to examine by Gods Word more strictly the corrupt doctrins of former ages, yet these _reformed_, as well as the other _unreformed_, stand opposite to you; and neither those professing to follow the Scriptures, nor those professing to follow Tradition, and Church-Authority; neither those requiring strict obedience and submission of judgment, nor those indulging Christian liberty, countenance your doctrin. But you stand also _Reformers_ of the _Reformation_, and separated from all. _Soc._ Soft a little. Though I stand separated indeed from the present unreformed Churches; or also (if you will) from the whole Church that was before _Luther_; yet I both enjoy the external Communion, and think I have reason to account my self a true member of the Churches Reformed; and, as I never condemned them, or thought Salvation not attainable in them; so neither am I (that I know of) excluded by, or from them; so long as I retain my opinion in silence, and do not disturb their peace; and I take my self also on these terms to be a member, in particular, of the Church of _England_, wherein I have been educated. For, all these Churches (as confessing themselves _fallible_ in their decree) do not require of their Subjects to yield any _internal assent_ to their Doctrins; or to profess any thing against their Conscience, and in Hypocrisie; and do forbear to use that Tyranny upon any for enjoying their Communion, which they so much condemn in that Church, from which, for this very thing, they were forced to part Communion, and to reform. Of this matter, thus, Mr. _Whitby_[95]--_Whom did our Convocation ever damn for not internally receiving their decrees? Do they not leave every man to the liberty of his judgment?--They do not require, that we should in all things believe, as they believe; but that we should submit to their determination, and not contradict them; their decisions are not obtruded as infallible Oracles, but only submitted to in order to peace and unity----So that their work is rather to silence, than to determine disputes,_ &c.----_and_ p. 438. _We grant a necessity, or at least a convenience of a Tribunal to decide controversies, but how? Not by causing any person to believe what he did not antecedently to these decrees, upon the sole authority of the Council; but by silencing our disputes, and making us acquiesce in what is propounded without any publick opposition to it, keeping our opinions to our selves----A liberty of using private discretion in approving or rejecting any thing as delivered, or not, in Scripture, we think ought to be allowed; for faith cannot be compelled; and by taking away this liberty from men, we should force them to become Hypocrites, and so profess outwardly what inwardly they disbelieve._----And see Dr. Stillingfleets Rational Account, p. 104. where, speaking of the obligation to the 39. Articles, he saith,----_That the Church of_ England, _excommunicates such as openly oppose her doctrin, supposing her fallible; the Roman Church excommunicates all, who will not believe whatever she defines to be infallibly true._----_That the Church of_ England _bindeth men to peace to her determinations, reserving to men the liberty of their judgments, on pain of excommunication if they violate that peace. For it is plain on the one side, where a Church pretends infallibility, the excommunication is directed against the persons for refusing to give internal assent to what she defines: But where a Church does not pretend to that, the excommunication respects wholly that overt Act, whereby the Church's peace is broken. And if a Church be bound to look to her own peace, no doubt she hath power to excommunicate such as openly violate the bonds of it; which is only an act of caution in a Church to preserve her self in unity; but where it is given out, that the Church is infallible, the excommunication must be so much the more unreasonable, because it is against those internal acts of the mind, over which the Church as such hath no direct power._----And p. 55. he quotes these words out of Bishop _Bramhall_[96] to the same sense,--_We do not suffer any man to reject the 39 Articles of the Church of_ England _at his pleasure; yet neither do we look upon them as essentials of saving faith, or legacies of Christ, and his Apostles; but, in a mean, as pious opinions fitted for the preservation of unity; neither do we oblige any man to believe them, but only not to contradict them. By which we see what vast difference there is, between those things which are required by the Church of_ England _in order to peace, and those which are imposed by the Church of_ Rome, _&c._ Lastly, thus Mr. _Chillingworth_[97] of the just authority of Councils and Synods (beyond which the Protestant Synods, or Convocations pretend not.)----_The Fathers of the Church_ (saith he) _in after times_ [_i. e._ after the Apostles] _might have just cause to declare their judgment, touching the sense of some general Articles of the Creed: but to oblige others to receive their declarations under pain of damnation, what warrant they had, I know not: He, that can shew, either that the Church of all ages was to have this Authority; or, that it continued in the Church for some ages, and then expired: He, that can shew either of these things let him; for my part I cannot. Yet I willingly confess the judgment of a Council, though not infallible, is yet so far directive, and obliging, that_ (without apparent reason to the contrary) _it may be sin to reject it, at least not to afford it an outward submission for publick peace sake._ [Thus much, as the Protestant Synods seem contented with, so I allow]--Again p. 375. He saith----_Any thing besides Scripture, and the plain, irrefragable, indubitable consequences of it; Well may Protestants hold it as matter of opinion, but as matter of faith and religion, neither can they with coherence to their own grounds believe it themselves, nor require the belief of it of others, without most high and most schismatical presumption._ Thus he: now I suppose that either no Protestant Church or Synod will stile the Son's coequal God-head with the Father a plain irrefragable, indubitable Scripture, or consequence thereof, about which is, and hath been so much contest, or with as much reason, they may call whatever points they please such, however controverted, and then, what is said here signifies nothing. §. 36. _Prot._ Be not mistaken, I pray: especially concerning the Church of _England_. For though she, for several Points, imposed formerly by the Tyranny of the _Roman_ Church, hath granted liberty of Opinion, or at least freed her Subjects from obligation to believe so in them, as the Church formerly required; yet as to exclusion of your Doctrin, she professeth firmly to believe the three Creeds; and concerning the Additions made in the two latter Creeds to the first, Dr. _Hammond_[98] acknowledgeth,----_That they being thus settled by the Universal Church, were, and still are in all reason, without disputing, to be received and embraced by the Protestant Church, and every meek Member thereof, with that reverence that is due to Apostolick Truths; with that thankfulness which is our meet tribute to those sacred Champions, for their seasonable, and provident propugning our faith, with such timely and necessary application to practice, that the Holy Ghost, speaking to us now, under the times of the New Testament by the Governors of the Christian Churches, (Christs mediate successors in the Prophetick, Pastoral, Episcopal Office) as he had formerly spoken by the Prophets of the Old Testament, sent immediately by him, may find a cheerful audience, and receive all uniform submission from us._ Thus, Dr. _Hammond_ of the Church of _England's_ assent to the three Creeds. She assenteth also to the definitions of the four first General Councils: And the Act 1 _Eliz._[99] declares Heresie that, which hath been adjudged so by them; now in the definitions of these 4 first General Councils your tenent hath received a Mortal wound. But lastly, _the 4th_ Canon in the English Synod held 1640.[100] particularly stiles _Socinianism a most damnable and cursed Heresie, and contrary to the Articles of Religion established in the Church of_ England: _and orders that any, convicted of it, be excommunicated and not absolved, but upon his repentance and abjuration._ Now further than this [_namely, excommunication upon conviction._] No other Church I suppose hath, or can proceed against your Heresie; It being received as a common Axiom in the Canon law; that _Ecclesia non judicat de occultis_,----And----_Cogitationis pænam nemo patitur._----And----_Ob peccatum mere internum Ecclesiastica censura ferri non potest._ And in all Churches every one, of what internal perswasion soever, continues externally at least a member thereof, till the Church's censures do exclude him. §. 37. _Soc._ The Church of _England_ alloweth, assenteth to, and teacheth, what she judgeth evident in the Scripture; for so she ought; what she believes, or assenteth to, I look not after, but what she enjoyns. Now I yield all that obedience in this point, that she requires from me; and so I presume she will acknowledge me a dutiful Son. _Prot._ What obedience when as you deny one of her chiefest, and most fundamental doctrins? _Soc._ If I mistake not her principles, she requires of me no internal belief or assent to any of her doctrins, but only, 1st. _Silence_, or _non-contradiction_ or 2ly, a _conditional belief_, _i.e._ whenever I shall be convinced of the truth thereof. Now in both these I most readily obey her. For the 1st, I have strictly observed it, kept my opinion to my self; unless this my discourse with you hath been a breach of it; but then I was at least a dutiful subject of this Church at the beginning of our discourse; and for the 2d, whether _actual conviction_, or _sufficient proposal_, be made the condition of my assent, or submission of judgment, I am conscious to my self of no disobedience, as to either of these; for an _actual conviction_ I am sure I have not: and, supposing, that I have had a _sufficient proposal_, and do not know it, my obedience, upon the Protestant principles, can possibly advance no further, than it now doth. The _Apostles Creed_ I totally embrace, and would have it the standing bound of a Christian Faith. For other _Creeds_: I suppose, no more belief is necessary to the Articles of the _Nicene Creed_, than is required to those of the _Athanasian_. And, of what kind the necessity is of believing those, Dr. _Stillingfleet_ states on this manner [101]----_That the belief of a thing may be supposed necessary, either as to the matter, because the matter is to be believed in it self necessary; or because of the clear conviction of mens understandings; that, though the matters be not in themselves necessary, yet being revealed by God, they must be explicitly believed: but then, the necessity of this belief doth extend no further, than the clearness of the conviction doth._ Again, _that the necessity of believing any thing arising from the Church's definition_ [upon which motive you seem to press the belief of the Article of _Consubstantiality_] _doth depend upon the Conviction, that whatever the Church defines is necessary to be believed. And, where that is not received as an antecedent principle, the other cannot be supposed._ [Now this principle neither I, nor yet Protestants, accept]. Then he concludes----_That as to the Athanasian Creed_ [and the same it is for the _Nicene_.] _It is unreasonable to imagine, that the Church of_ England _doth own this necessity, purely on the account of the Church's definition of those things which are not fundamental, it being directly contrary to her sense in her 19th and 20th Articles._ [Now, which Articles of this Creed are not Fundamental, she defines nothing; nor do the 19, 20, or 21. Articles own a necessity of believing the Church's Definitions, even as to _Fundamentals_.] _And hence, that the supposed necessity of the belief of the Articles of the Athanasian Creed must, according to the sense of the Church of_ England, _be resolved, either into the necessity of the matters, or into that necessity, which supposeth clear conviction, that the things therein contained are of divine Revelation._ Thus he. Now, for so many Articles as I am either convinced of the matter to be believed, that it is in it self necessary; or, that they are divine Revelations, I do most readily yield my Faith, and assent thereto. Now, to make some Reply to the other things you have objected. §. 38. The Act 1 _Eliz._ allows no Definitions of the First General Councils in declaring _Heresie_, but with this limitation, that, in such Councils, such thing be declared _Heresie_ by the express and plain words of the _Canonical Scripture_. On which terms I also accept them. §. 39. Dr. _Hammond_'s affirming, _That all additions settled by the Universal Church_ [he means General Councils] _are in all reason, without disputing, to be received as Apostolical Truths, that the Holy Ghost speaking to us by the Governors of the Christian Churches, Christ's Successors, may receive all uniform submission from us_, suits not with the Protestant Principles often formerly mentioned.[102] For thus (if I rightly understand him) all the definitions of General Councils, and of the Christian Governors in all ages, as these being still Christ's Successors, are to be without disputing, embraced as truths Apostolical. §. 40. If the words of the fourth _Canon_ of the _English Synod_ 1640. signifie any more, than this; That any person _convicted_ of Socinianism (_i. e._ by publishing his opinion) shall, upon such conviction, be excommunicated; and if it be understood adequate to this, _Qui non crediderit filium esse_ +homoousion+ _Deo Patri, Anathema sit_, and, that the Church of _England_, for allowing her Communion, is not content with _silence_ in respect of Socinianism, but obligeth men also to _assent_ to the contrary; then, I see not upon what good grounds such exclamation is made against the like Anathema's or exactions of assent required by that of _Trent_, or other late Councils, or by _Pius_ his Bull. If it be said here, the reason of such faulting them is, because these require assent, not being lawful _General Councils_, such reason will not pass; 1st. Because, neither the English Synod, exacting assent in this point, is a General Council. 2ly. Because, it is the Protestant tenent, that neither may lawful General Councils require _assent_ to all their Definitions. Or, if it be affirmed (either of _General_ or _Provincial_ Councils) that they may require assent under Anathema to some of their decrees; _viz._ Those evidently true, and divine Revelations; such as _Consubstantiality_ is; but may not to others; _viz._ Those not manifested by them to be such; then, before we can censure any Council for its Anathema's, or its requiring of assent, we must know, whether the point, to which assent is required, is, or is not, evident divine Revelation. And then, by whom, or how, shall this thing touching the evidence of the Divine Revelation be judged or decided? for those that judge this, whoever they be, do sit now upon the trial of the rightness, or mistake of the judgment of a General Council: Or when, think we, will those who judge this (_i.e._ every person for himself) agree in their sentence? Again, If on the other side, the _former Church_ in her language, _Si quis non crediderit, &c. Anathema sit_, be affirmed (to which purpose the fore-mentioned Axioms are urged by you) to mean nothing more, than, _Si quis Hæresin suam palam profiteatur, & hujus professionis convictus fuerit, Anathema sit_, Thus the Protestants former quarrel with her passing such _Anathema's_ will be concluded causeless and unjust. But indeed, though, (according to the former sentences,) her Anathema is not extended to the internal act of holding such an opinion, if wholly concealed, so far as to render such person for it to stand _excommunicated_, and lie actually under this censure of the Church, because hitherto no contempt of her authority appears, nor is any dammage inferred to any other member of her Society thereby? Yet her _Anathema_ also extends, even to the internal act, or tenet, after the Church's contrary definition known (which tenet also then is not held without a disobedience, and contempt of her authority) so far, as to render the delinquent therein guilty of a very great _mortal sin_; and so at the same time internally cut off from being a true member of _Christ's Body_; though externally he is not as yet so cut off. And the Casuists further state him _ipso facto_ to be excommunicated, before, and without conviction, if externally he doth, or speaketh any thing, whereby he is convincible; and not if there be any thing _proved_ against him, but if any thing at least _provable_; and such a one, upon this, to be obliged in Conscience, not only to confess his heretical opinion, for his being absolved from _mortal sin_; but also to seek a release from excommunication incurred, for his re-enjoying the Church's Communion. Thus you see a rigor in this Church towards what it once accounted _Heresie_ much different from the more mild Spirit, and moderate temper of the _Reformed_. §. 41. To conclude. For the enjoying the _Protestant_ Communion, I conceive that, as to any necessary approbation of her Doctrins, it is sufficient for me to hold with Mr. _Chillingworth_ (as I do[103])----_That the Doctrin of Protestants, though not that, of all of them, absolutely true, yet it is free from all impiety, and from all Error destructive to Salvation, or in it self damnable._ And [104]----_whatsoever hath been held necessary to Salvation by the consent of Protestants, or even of the Church of_ England, [which indeed hath given no certain Catalogue at all of such _necessaries_], _that, against the Socinians, and all others whatsoever, I do verily believe, and embrace_----And (which is still the same) [105]--_I am perswaded, that the constant doctrin of the Church of_ England, _is so pure and Orthodox, that whosoever believes it, and lives according to it, undoubtedly he shall be saved._ [For if all truths necessary to Salvation be held in it, then, so, is no error, opposite or destructive to Salvation, held by it; and so, living according to the truths it holds, I may be saved.] Again [106]----_I believe that there is no error in it, which may necessitate, or warrant any man to disturb the peace, or renounce the Communion of it_, [For, though I believe _Antisocinianism_, an error; Yet if I hold it not such, as that for it any man may disturb the peace, or ought to renounce the Communion of the Church, I may profess all this, and yet hold Socinianism.] Lastly as he,[107] so I;----_Propose me any thing out of the Bible, seem it never so incomprehensible, I will subscribe it with hand and heart. In other things_ [that I think not contained in this Book] _I will take no mans liberty of judgment from him, neither shall any man take mine from me; for I am fully assured, that God doth not, and therefore that men ought not to require any more of any man than this; To believe the Scripture to be Gods Word, to endeavour to find the true sense of it; and to live according to it. Without pertinacy I can be no Heretick; And[108], endeavouring to find the true sense of Scripture, I cannot but hold my error without pertinacy, and be ready to forsake it, when a more true, and a more probable sense shall appear unto me.----And then, all necessary truth being plainly set down in Scripture, I am certain by believing Scripture to believe all necessary truth; and in doing so, my life being answerable to my Faith, how is it possible I should fail of Salvation?_ Thus Mr. _Chillingworth_ speaks perfectly my sense. _Prot._ I see no other cure for you; but that you learn _humility_ and _mortification_ of your _Understanding_ (in which lies the most subtle and perilous of all _Prides_): And, It will reduce you to _Obedience_: and this to _Truth_. That, with all the Church of God, you may give glory to _God the only begotten Son_, and _the Holy Ghost, coessential with God the Father_. To which _Trinity_ in _Unity_, as it hath been from the beginning, and is now, so shall all Honour and Glory be given throughout all future ages. _Amen._ [81] _Dr. Potter p._ 75. [82] _Chillingw. p._ 274. [83] _Lawd. p._ 142. [84] _p._ 331. [85] _Stilling. ib._ [86] _Vindic. of the Church of Eng._ _p._ 9. [87] _D. Potter p._ 76. [88] _Stillingfl. p._ 359. [89] _Division of Churches. p._ 106. [90] _Chillingw. p._ 278. [91] _Ib._ 279. [92] _Of Schism_, _p._ 23, 24, 25. [93] _p._ 73. [94] _Stillingfl. p._ 292. [95] _p._ 100. [96] _Schism guarded_, _p._ 192. [97] _p._ 200. [98] _Of Fundamentals. p._ 90. [99] _cap._ 1. [100] _Can._ 4. [101] _p._ 70, 71. [102] _See before_ §. 26. [103] _Chillingw. Pref._ §. 39. [104] _Ib._ §. 28. [105] _Ib._ §. 29. [106] _Ibid._ [107] _Chillingw. p._ 376. [108] _Ib._ §. 57. _FINIS._ _ERRATA._ Page 19. lin. 18. read _Emperor_. p. 28. l. 1. dele [_See more Protestants cited to this purpose_, _Disc._ 3. §. 19.] pag. 31, l. 7. r. _there by_. 
40966	----	Transcriber's notes Variable spelling has been retained. Minor punctuation inconsistencies have been silently corrected. A list of other corrections can be found at the end of the book. Footnotes were sequentially numbered and placed at the end of the text. In the original, the "The Gospel Narratives" are printed side by side across the page spread. In this e-book version they are presented individually. The Index was copied from Volume II. Mark up: _italics_ THE TRIAL OF JESUS [Illustration: JESUS BOUND (MUNKACSY)] THE TRIAL OF JESUS FROM A LAWYER'S STANDPOINT BY WALTER M. CHANDLER OF THE NEW YORK BAR VOLUME I THE HEBREW TRIAL THE EMPIRE PUBLISHING CO. 60 WALL STREET, NEW YORK CITY 1908 Copyright, 1908, by WALTER M. CHANDLER _All rights reserved_ TO MY MOTHER WITH SENTIMENTS OF LOVE AND VENERATION WHICH NO WORDS CAN EXPRESS LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS FACING PAGE JESUS BOUND (Munkacsy) _Frontispiece_ ST. MATTHEW (Rembrandt) 2 ST. MARK AND ST. PAUL (Dürer) 28 ST. JOHN AND ST. PETER (Dürer) 52 MOSES AND THE LAW (Michael Angelo) 72 THE LAST SUPPER (da Vinci) 174 JESUS IN GETHSEMANE (Hoffman) 240 THE BETRAYING KISS (Scheffer) 282 THE ARREST OF JESUS (Hoffman) 284 CONTENTS OF VOLUME ONE PAGE PREFACE TO VOLUME ONE xiii THE GOSPEL NARRATIVES xxx PART I _THE RECORD OF FACT_ AUTHENTICITY OF THE NEW TESTAMENT NARRATIVES, JUDICIALLY CONSIDERED 3 CREDIBILITY OF THE GOSPEL WRITERS, LEGALLY TESTED 9 PART II _HEBREW CRIMINAL LAW_ CHAPTER I. THE MOSAIC CODE AND THE TALMUD 73 II. HEBREW CRIMES AND PUNISHMENTS 91 III. HEBREW COURTS AND JUDGES 102 IV. HEBREW WITNESSES AND EVIDENCE 127 V. MODE OF TRIAL AND EXECUTION IN HEBREW CAPITAL CASES 153 PART III _THE BRIEF_ WHETHER OR NOT THE GREAT SANHEDRIN EXISTED AT THE TIME OF CHRIST 175 CONCERNING THE JURISDICTION OF THE GREAT SANHEDRIN, WITH REFERENCE TO ROMAN AUTHORITY, TO TRY CAPITAL OFFENSES AT THE DATE OF THE CRUCIFIXION 181 CONCERNING THE JURISDICTION OF THE GREAT SANHEDRIN, UNDER HEBREW LAW, TO TRY THE PARTICULAR OFFENSE WITH WHICH JESUS WAS CHARGED 183 WHETHER OR NOT THERE WAS A REGULAR LEGAL TRIAL OF JESUS BEFORE THE GREAT SANHEDRIN 183 WHETHER OR NOT THE RULES OF CRIMINAL PROCEDURE PRESCRIBED IN THE MISHNA WERE IN EXISTENCE AND ACTIVELY IN FORCE IN JUDEA AT THE TIME OF THE TRIAL OF JESUS 186 THE NATURE OF THE CHARGE BROUGHT AGAINST JESUS AT THE TRIAL BEFORE THE GREAT SANHEDRIN; AND HIS GUILT OR INNOCENCE WITH REFERENCE THERETO 187 POINT I: CONCERNING THE LEGALITY OF THE ARREST OF JESUS IN GETHSEMANE 219 POINT II: CONCERNING THE LEGALITY OF THE PRIVATE EXAMINATION OF JESUS BY ANNAS (OR CAIAPHAS) BEFORE THE BEGINNING OF THE REGULAR TRIAL 238 POINT III: CONCERNING THE LEGALITY OF THE INDICTMENT AGAINST JESUS 248 POINT IV: CONCERNING THE LEGALITY OF TRYING JESUS AT NIGHT 255 POINT V: CONCERNING THE LEGALITY OF TRYING JESUS BEFORE THE MORNING SACRIFICE HAD BEEN OFFERED 260 POINT VI: CONCERNING THE LEGALITY OF TRYING JESUS ON THE EVE OF A JEWISH SABBATH AND AT THE BEGINNING OF THE CELEBRATION OF THE PASSOVER FEAST 263 POINT VII: CONCERNING THE LEGALITY OF CONCLUDING THE TRIAL OF JESUS WITHIN ONE DAY 267 POINT VIII: CONCERNING THE LEGALITY OF CONVICTING JESUS UPON HIS UNCORROBORATED CONFESSION 271 POINT IX: CONCERNING THE LEGALITY OF A UNANIMOUS VERDICT AGAINST JESUS 279 POINT X: CONCERNING CERTAIN IRREGULARITIES OF FORM IN TRYING AND CONDEMNING JESUS 287 POINT XI: CONCERNING THE LEGAL DISQUALIFICATIONS OF MEMBERS OF THE GREAT SANHEDRIN, TO TRY JESUS 295 POINT XII: CONCERNING THE LEGALITY OF THE REFUSAL OF THE GREAT SANHEDRIN TO CONSIDER THE MERITS OF THE DEFENSE OF JESUS 309 PREFACE TO VOLUME ONE Many remarkable trials have characterized the judicial history of mankind. The trial of Socrates before the dicastery of Athens, charged with corrupting Athenian youth, with blaspheming the Olympic gods, and with seeking to destroy the constitution of the Attic Republic, is still a sublime and thrilling chapter in the history of a wonderful people, among the ruins and wrecks of whose genius the modern world still wanders to contemplate, admire, and study the pride of every master and the perfection of every model. The trial and execution of Charles the First of England sealed with royal blood a new covenant of British freedom, and erected upon the highway of national progress an enduring landmark to civil liberty. The entire civilized world stood aghast at the solemn and awful spectacle of the deliberate beheading of a king. And yet, to-day, the sober, serious judgment of mankind stamps the act with approval, and deems it a legitimate and righteous step in the heroic march of a brave and splendid people toward a complete realization of the inalienable rights of man. The philosopher of history declares these condemnatory and executory proceedings against a Stuart king worthy of all the epoch making movements that have glorified the centuries of English constitutional growth, and have given to mankind the imperishable parchments of Magna Charta, the Bill of Rights, the Petition of Rights, and Habeas Corpus. The trial of Warren Hastings in the hall of William Rufus has been immortalized by Lord Macaulay. This trial is a virtual reproduction in English history of the ancient Roman trial of Verres. England is substituted for Rome; Sicily becomes India; Hastings takes the place of Verres; and Burke is the orator instead of Cicero. The indictments are identical: Maladministration in the government of a province. In the impeachment of Hastings, England served notice upon her colonial governors and made proclamation to the world that English conquest was not intended to despoil and enslave, but was designed to carry to the inhabitants of distant lands her language, her literature, and her laws. This message to humanity was framed but not inspired by England. It was prompted by the success of the American Revolution, in which Washington and his Continentals had established the immortal principle, that the consent of the governed is the true source of all just powers of government. The trial of Aaron Burr, omitting Arnold's treason, is the blackest chapter in the annals of our republic. Burr was the most extraordinary man of the first half century of American national history. His powerful and fascinating personality conquered men and enslaved women. He was the finest scholar of the Revolution excepting Thomas Jefferson. He was the greatest orator of the Revolution excepting Patrick Henry. His farewell address to the United States Senate caused his inveterate enemies to weep. His arraignment at the bar of public justice on the charge of high treason--that he had sought to destroy the Country of Washington, the Republic of Jefferson, which is to-day the Union of Lincoln--was the sad and melancholy close of a long and lofty life. The trial of Alfred Dreyfus is still fresh in the minds and memories of men. Troubled political seas still surge and roll in France because of the hatred, prejudice, and passion that envelope the mysterious _bordereau_. The French Republic is still rent by two contending factions: Dreyfus and anti-Dreyfus. His friends still say that Dreyfus was a Prometheus who was chained to an ocean-girt rock while the vulture of exile preyed upon his heart. His enemies still assert that he was a Judas who betrayed not God or Christ, but France and the Fatherland. His banishment to the Island of the Devil; his wife's deathless devotion; the implacable hatred of his enemies; the undying loyalty of friends; and his own sufferings and woes are the warp and woof of the most splendid and pathetic epoch of a century. Other trials--of Mary Stuart, the beautiful and brilliant Scottish queen; of Robert Emmet, the grand and gifted Irish patriot martyr--thrilled the world in their day. But these trials, one and all, were tame and commonplace, compared with the trial and crucifixion of the Galilean peasant, Jesus of Nazareth. These were earthly trials, on earthly issues, before earthly courts. The trial of the Nazarene was before the high tribunals of both Heaven and earth; before the Great Sanhedrin, whose judges were the master-spirits of a divinely commissioned race; before the court of the Roman Empire that controlled the legal and political rights of men throughout the known world, from Scotland to Judea and from Dacia to Abyssinia. The trial of Jesus was twofold: Hebrew and Roman; or Ecclesiastical and Civil. The Hebrew trial took place before the Great Sanhedrin, consisting of seventy-one members. The Roman trial was held before Pontius Pilate, Roman governor of Judea, and afterwards before Herod, Tetrarch of Galilee. These trials all made one, were links in a chain, and took place within a space of time variously estimated from ten to twenty hours. The general order of events may be thus briefly described: (1) About eleven o'clock on the evening of April 6th, A.D. 30, Jesus and eleven of the Apostles left the scene of the Last Supper, which had been celebrated (probably in the home of Mark) on the outskirts of Jerusalem, to go to the Garden of Gethsemane. (2) Jesus was arrested about midnight in Gethsemane by a band of Temple officers and Roman soldiers guided by Judas. (3) He was first taken to Annas, and was afterwards sent by Annas to Caiaphas. A private preliminary examination of Jesus was then had before one of these church dignitaries. St. John describes this examination, but does not tell us clearly whether it was Annas or Caiaphas who conducted it. (4) After His preliminary examination, Jesus was arraigned about two o'clock in the morning before the Sanhedrin, which had convened in the palace of Caiaphas, and was formally tried and condemned to death on the charge of blasphemy against Jehovah. (5) After a temporary adjournment of the first session, the Sanhedrin reassembled at the break of day to retry Jesus, and to determine how He should be brought before Pilate. (6) In the early morning of April 7th, Jesus was led before Pontius Pilate, who was then stopping in the palace of Herod on the hill of Zion, his customary residence when he came up from Cæsarea to Jerusalem to attend the Jewish national festivals. A brief trial of Jesus by Pilate, on the charge of high treason against Cæsar, was then had in front of and within the palace of Herod. The result was an acquittal of the prisoner by the Roman procurator, who expressed his verdict in these words: "I find in him no fault at all." (7) Instead of releasing Jesus after having found Him not guilty, Pilate, being intimidated by the rabble, sent the prisoner away to Herod, Tetrarch of Galilee, who was then in attendance upon the Passover Feast, and was at that moment residing in the ancient palace of the Asmoneans in the immediate neighborhood of the residence of Pilate. A brief, informal hearing was had before Herod, who, having mocked and brutalized the prisoner, sent Him back to the Roman governor. (8) After the return of Jesus from the Court of Herod, Pilate assembled the priests and elders, announced to them that Herod had found no fault with the prisoner in their midst, reminded them that he himself had acquitted Him, and offered to scourge and then release Him. This compromise and subterfuge were scornfully rejected by the Jews who had demanded the crucifixion of Jesus. Pilate, after much vacillation, finally yielded to the demands of the mob and ordered the prisoner to be crucified. From this brief outline of the proceedings against Jesus, the reader will readily perceive that there were two distinct trials: a Hebrew and a Roman. He will notice further that each trial was marked by three distinct features or appearances. The Hebrew trial was characterized by: (1) The appearance before Annas. (2) The trial at the night session of the Sanhedrin. (3) The examination at the morning sitting of the same court. The Roman trial was marked by: (1) The appearance of Jesus before Pilate. (2) His arraignment before Herod. (3) His reappearance before Pilate. The first volume of this work has been devoted to the Hebrew trial of Jesus, and a distinctively Hebrew impress has been given to all its pages. The second volume has been devoted to the Roman trial, and a distinctively Roman impress has been given it. Each exhibits a distinct view of the subject. Taken together, they comprehend the most important and famous judicial transaction in history. It is not the purpose of the author of these volumes to usurp the functions or the privileges of the ecclesiastic. To priests and preachers have been left the discussion and solution of theological problems: the divinity of Jesus, the immortality of the soul and kindred religious dogmas. "The Trial of Jesus from a _Lawyer's_ Standpoint" is the expanded title of this work. A strict adherence to a secular discussion of the theme proclaimed has been studiously observed in the preparation of these pages. The legal rights of the _man_ Jesus at the bar of _human_ justice under Jewish and Roman laws have marked the limitations of the argument. Any digression from this plan has been temporary and necessary. A thorough understanding of any case, judicially considered, involves a complete analysis of the cardinal legal elements of the case: the element called Fact and the element called Law. Whether in ancient or modern times, in a Jewish or Gentile court, of civil or criminal jurisdiction, these elements have always entered into the legal conception of a case. Whether the advocate is preparing a pleading at his desk, is summing up before the jury, or addressing himself to the court, these elements are working forever in his brain. He is constantly asking himself these questions: What are the facts of this case? What is the law applicable to the facts? Do the facts and law meet and harmonize judicially? Do they blend in legal unison according to the latest decision of the court of last resort? If so, a case is made; otherwise, not. Now many sermons might be differently preached; many books might be differently written. But an intelligent discussion of the trial and crucifixion of Jesus from a lawyer's point of view must be had upon the basis of an analytical review of the agreement or nonagreement of law and fact in the case sought to be made against the Christ. The first question that naturally suggests itself to the inquiring mind, in investigating this theme, is this: Upon what facts was the complaint against Jesus based? A second question then logically follows: What were the rules and regulations of Hebrew and Roman law directly applicable to those facts in the trials of Jesus before the Sanhedrin and before Pilate? It is respectfully submitted that no clear and comprehensive treatment of the subject can be had without proper answers to these questions. Having learned the facts of any case, and having determined what rules of law are applicable to them in regard to the controversy in hand, a third step in the proceedings, in all matters of review on appeal, is this: To analyze the record from the viewpoint of the juristic agreement or nonagreement of law and fact; and to determine by a process of judicial dissection and reformation the presence or absence of essential legal elements in the proceedings, with a view to affirmance in case of absence, or reversal of the verdict in the event of the discovery of the presence of error. In obedience to this natural intellectual tendency and to the usual mode of legal procedure in reviewing and revising matters on appeal, the contents of Volume I have been divided into three parts, corresponding, in a general way, to the successive steps heretofore mentioned. In Part I, the Record of Fact in the trial of Jesus has been authenticated; not, indeed, according to the strict provisions of modern statutes which regulate the authentication of legal documents, but in the popular sense of the word "authentication." Nevertheless, the authenticity of the Gospel narratives, which form the record of fact in the trial of Jesus, and the credibility of the Evangelists who wrote and published these narratives, have been subjected to the rigorous tests of rules of evidence laid down by Greenleaf and by Starkie. Such an authentication has been deemed necessary in a treatise of this kind. Two main methods may be employed in investigating and proving the alleged occurrences of Sacred History: (1) The method which is based upon the evidence of spiritual consciousness and experience, derived from religious conversion and from communion with God; (2) the method that rests upon the application of historic facts and legal rules to the testimony of those who have asserted the existence of such occurrences. It has been contended by many that the first of these methods is the supreme test, and the only proper one, in solving religious problems and in reaching full and final assurance of the existence of spiritual truths. It is confidently asserted by such persons that the true Christian who has accepted Jesus as his personal Redeemer and has thereby found peace with God, needs no assurance from Matthew that the Christ was the Heaven-begotten and Virgin-born. Such a Christian, it is said, has positive proof from within that Jesus was divine. It is further contended that all forms of religious truth are susceptible of the same kind of proof. It is argued that from despairing hope, born of the longing and the tears of a mother who, grief-stricken and broken-hearted, kneels in prayer beside the coffin of her firstborn, springs stronger evidence of a future life and of an everlasting reunion with loved ones, than comes from all the assurances of immortality handed down by saints and sages. The advocates of this theory contend that the fact of the Resurrection of Jesus should be proved mainly by the method of spiritual consciousness and experience, and only incidentally by the historical testimony of the sacred writers. They boldly maintain that the Resurrection was a spiritual fact born of a spiritual truth; and that within the soul of each true believer is the image of the risen Jesus, reflected from Heaven in as perfect form as that seen by Paul while journeying to Damascus. It would be decidedly ungenerous and unjust to deny the force of the contention that spiritual consciousness and religious experience are convincing forms of proof. To do so would be to offer gratuitous insult to the intelligence and sincerity of millions of consecrated men and women who have repeatedly proclaimed and are still proclaiming that the Spirit of God and Christ within them attests the reality of religion. But on the other hand the doctrine of religions consciousness, as a mode of proof, certainly has its limitations. Spiritual proofs are obviously the very best means of establishing purely spiritual truths. But not many truths of religion are purely spiritual. The most of them are encased within historic facts which may themselves be separately considered as historic truths. In a sense, all spiritual truth is born of historic truth; that is, historic truths, in the order of our acquisition of a knowledge of them, antedate and create spiritual truths. The religious consciousness of the Resurrection of Jesus would never have been born in our hearts if we had never read the historical records of the physical Resurrection. Nor could we have ever had a religious experience of the divinity of Jesus if we had never read the historical accounts of His miracles, of His Virgin birth, His fulfillment of prophecy, and His Resurrection from the dead, unless Jesus had personally communicated to us evidences of His divinity. These separate and historic facts, of which spiritual truths are born, cannot be proved by religious consciousness and experience. The distinctions herein suggested are very aptly and beautifully expressed by Professor Inge in his Bampton Lectures on Christian Mysticism, in which he says: "The inner light can only testify to spiritual truths. It always speaks in the present tense; it cannot guarantee any historical event, past or future. It cannot guarantee either the Gospel history or a future judgment. It can tell us that Christ is risen, and He is alive for evermore, but not that He rose again the third day." From the foregoing, then, it is clear that in dealing with the historical facts and circumstances of the trial and crucifixion of Jesus, we cannot remotely employ the method of proof which is based upon religious consciousness and experience, since these events are matters of the past and not of the present. We have been compelled, therefore, to resort to the legal and historical method of proof; since we could not assume the correctness of the record, as such an assumption would have been lacking in legal requirement and judicial fitness. It has also been thought not to be within the scope of this treatise, or consistent with the purpose of the author of these volumes, to enter into a discussion of the question of inspiration in the matter of the origin of the New Testament Gospels, as the record of fact in the trial of Jesus. As secular historians, rather than as inspired writers, must the Evangelists be regarded in this connection; since the title of this work suggests and demands a strictly legal treatment of the theme proclaimed. The author would respectfully suggest, however, that the day is past for complete reliance upon the theory of inspiration and a total rejection of all analysis and investigation. That the Scriptures are sacred and inspired, and neither need nor permit questions involving doubt and speculation as to origin and authenticity will no longer meet the challenge or dissipate the fears of the intellectual leaders of the human race. The Christianity of the future must be a religion of reason as well as of faith, else it cannot and will not endure the shocks of time, or survive the onward march of the soul. If the teachings of the Nazarene are a faithful portrayal and a truthful expression of all the verities of Heaven and earth, then Christianity has nothing to fear from the discoveries of Science, from Roman catacombs, Arabian hieroglyphics, the sands of Egypt, or the ruins of Nineveh and Babylon. Science is the High Priestess of Nature and Nature's oracles, and no single revelation of Science can disprove or contradict the simplest truth of Nature's God. If, on the other hand, Christianity be fundamentally and essentially false, ignorance and bigotry will not preserve and perpetuate it; all the prayers of the faithful, all the martyrdom of the centuries, will not suffice to save it from death and annihilation. But the Christian need have no fear of the results of scientific investigation or historic revelation. Assyriology, archæology, and paleontology, interpreted and applied by the finest scholarship and the most superb intellects of earth, have spent all their stupendous and concentrated forces in the direction of the discovery of natural and historic facts that would confirm or destroy the Christian theory of things. And yet not one natural or historic fact has been discovered that seriously disturbs the testimony of the Evangelists or impairs the evidence of Christianity. A few unlettered fisherman, casting nets for a livelihood in the waters of Gennesaret, framed a message to humanity based upon the life and martyrdom of a Galilean peasant, their spiritual Lord and Master, and proclaimed it to the world; and all the succeeding centuries of scientific research and skeptical criticism have not shaken mankind's confidence in its truthfulness and its potency. If eighteen hundred years of scientific investigation have resulted only in proof and vindication of the historic asseverations of the Sacred Scriptures, and further investigation gives promise of still further proof and vindication, tending to remove all doubts and destroy all fears, nothing but rank stupidity and crass ignorance will place obstacles in the way of ultimate analysis and complete revelation. In Part II of this volume, following the plan heretofore suggested, the element of Law has been considered. Hebrew criminal jurisprudence, based upon the Mosaic Code and upon the Talmud, has been outlined and discussed. A more exhaustive treatment has been given than the subject would seem to justify, but the writer is convinced that the Criminal Code of the Jews must be of surpassing interest to the general reader, regardless of whether certain peculiar rules therein contained have reference to the trial of Jesus or not. The bulk of this Code has been inserted in this work because it is felt that a comprehensive view of any system enables the student of a particular trial under that system to grasp more fully and to appreciate more keenly the merits of the proceedings. In Part III the legal aspects of the trial of Jesus have been reviewed. The elements of Law and Fact have been combined in the form of a "Brief," in which "Points" have been made and errors have been discussed. During the past decade, the author of this work has delivered occasionally, in the United States and in the Dominion of Canada, a lecture upon the subject, "The Trial of Jesus from a Lawyer's Standpoint." Numerous requests have been made, from time to time, for the lecture in printed form. To supply this demand is the purpose of the publication of these volumes. The voluminous treatment given has been in response to the demands of those who have asked for a topical treatment of the subject. Many auditors in his lecture audiences have asked for special treatment, from a lawyer's standpoint, of the New Testament Gospels. Many have requested an exhaustive handling of Hebrew criminal law. Others have asked for the insertion in this work of the Apocryphal Acts of Pilate. And still others have expressed a desire to have Græco-Roman Paganism dealt with in its relationship to the trial of Jesus. In obedience to these various demands, certain chapters have been incorporated in the general work that may not seem to the average reader to have any direct bearing upon the subject treated. It is felt, however, that in every case at least a partial relevancy exists, and that in a large majority of cases the relevancy is perfect. The writer wishes, at this time and place, to acknowledge his indebtedness and to express his thanks, for valuable assistance rendered, to all those authors mentioned under the title "Bibliography" at the end of Volume II. WALTER M. CHANDLER. NEW YORK CITY, July 1, 1908. THE GOSPEL NARRATIVES MATTHEW xxvi. 47-68; xxvii. 1-26 And while he yet spake, lo, Judas, one of the twelve, came, and with him a great multitude with swords and staves, from the chief priests and elders of the people.... Then came they, and laid hands on Jesus, and took him.... And they that had laid hold on Jesus led him away to Caiaphas the high priest, where the scribes and the elders were assembled.... Now the chief priests, and elders, and all the council, sought false witness against Jesus, to put him to death; But found none: yea, though many false witnesses came, yet found they none. At the last came two false witnesses, And said, This fellow said, I am able to destroy the temple of God, and to build it in three days. And the high priest arose, and said unto him, Answerest thou nothing? what is it which these witness against thee? But Jesus held his peace. And the high priest answered and said unto him, I adjure thee by the living God, that thou tell us whether thou be the Christ, the Son of God. Jesus saith unto him, Thou has said: nevertheless I say unto you, Hereafter shall ye see the Son of man sitting on the right hand of power, and coming in the clouds of heaven. Then the high priest rent his clothes, saying, He hath spoken blasphemy; what further need have we of witnesses? behold, now ye have heard his blasphemy. What think ye? They answered and said, He is guilty of death. Then did they spit in his face, and buffeted him; and others smote him with the palms of their hands, Saying, Prophesy unto us, thou Christ, Who is he that smote thee? When the morning was come, all the chief priests and elders of the people took counsel against Jesus to put him to death: And when they had bound him, they led him away, and delivered him to Pontius Pilate the governor.... And Jesus stood before the governor: and the governor asked him, saying, Art thou the King of the Jews? And Jesus said unto him, Thou sayest. And when he was accused of the chief priests and elders, he answered nothing. Then said Pilate unto him, Hearest thou not how many things they witness against thee? And he answered him to never a word; insomuch that the governor marvelled greatly. Now at the feast the governor was wont to release unto the people a prisoner, whom they would. And they had then a notable prisoner, called Barabbas. Therefore when they were gathered together, Pilate said unto them, Whom will ye that I release unto you? Barabbas, or Jesus which is called Christ? For he knew that for envy they had delivered him. When he was set down on the judgement seat, his wife sent unto him, saying, Have thou nothing to do with that just man: for I have suffered many things this day in a dream because of him. But the chief priests and elders persuaded the multitude that they should ask Barabbas, and destroy Jesus. The governor answered and said unto them, Whether of the twain will ye that I release unto you? They said, Barabbas. Pilate saith unto them, What shall I do then with Jesus which is called Christ? They all say unto him, Let him be crucified. And the governor said, Why, what evil hath he done? But they cried out the more, saying, Let him be crucified. When Pilate saw that he could prevail nothing, but that rather a tumult was made, he took water, and washed his hands before the multitude, saying, I am innocent of the blood of this just person: see ye to it. Then answered all the people, and said, His blood be on us, and on our children. Then released he Barabbas unto them: and when he had scourged Jesus, he delivered him to be crucified. MARK xiv. 43-65; xv. 1-15. And immediately, while he yet spake, cometh Judas, one of the twelve, and with him a great multitude with swords and staves, from the chief priests and the scribes and the elders. And he that betrayed him had given them a token, saying, Whomsoever I shall kiss, that same is he; take him, and lead him away safely. And as soon as he was come, he goeth straightway to him, and saith, Master, Master; and kissed him. And they laid hands on him, and took him. And one of them that stood by drew a sword, and smote a servant of the high priest, and cut off his ear. And Jesus answered and said unto them, Are ye come out, as against a thief, with swords and staves to take me? I was daily with you in the temple teaching, and ye took me not; but the scriptures must be fulfilled. And they all forsook him, and fled. And there followed him a certain young man, having a linen cloth cast about his naked body; and the young man laid hold on him: And he left the linen cloth, and fled from them naked. And they led Jesus away to the high priest: and with him were assembled all the chief priests and the elders and the scribes.... And the chief priests and all the council sought for witness against Jesus to put him to death; and found none. For many bare false witness against him, but their witness agreed not together. And there arose certain, and bare false witness against him, saying, We heard him say, I will destroy this temple that is made with hands, and within three days I will build another made without hands. But neither so did their witness agree together. And the high priest stood up in the midst, and asked Jesus, saying, Answerest thou nothing? what is it which these witness against thee? But he held his peace, and answered nothing. Again the high priest asked him, and said unto him, Art thou the Christ, the Son of the Blessed? And Jesus said, I am: and ye shall see the Son of man sitting on the right hand of power, and coming in the clouds of heaven. Then the high priest rent his clothes, and saith, What need we any further witnesses? Ye have heard the blasphemy: what think ye? And they all condemned him to be guilty of death. And some began to spit on him, and to cover his face, and to buffet him, and to say unto him, Prophesy: and the servants did strike him with the palms of their hands. And straightway in the morning the chief priests held a consultation with the elders and scribes and the whole council, and bound Jesus, and carried him away, and delivered him to Pilate. And Pilate asked him, Art thou the King of the Jews? And he answering said unto him, Thou sayest it. And the chief priests accused him of many things: but he answered nothing. And Pilate asked him again, saying, Answerest thou nothing? behold how many things they witness against thee. But Jesus yet answered nothing; so that Pilate marvelled. Now at that feast he released unto them one prisoner, whomsoever they desired. And there was one named Barabbas, which lay bound with them that had made insurrection with him, who had committed murder in the insurrection. And the multitude crying aloud began to desire him to do as he had ever done unto them. But Pilate answered them, saying, Will ye that I release unto you the King of the Jews? For he knew that the chief priests had delivered him for envy. But the chief priests moved the people, that he should rather release Barabbas unto them. And Pilate answered and said again unto them, What will ye then that I shall do unto him whom ye call the King of the Jews? And they cried out again, Crucify him. Then Pilate said unto them, Why, what evil hath he done? And they cried out the more exceedingly, Crucify him. And so Pilate, willing to content the people, released Barabbas unto them, and delivered Jesus, when he had scourged him, to be crucified. LUKE xxii. 47-71; xxiii. 1-24. And while he yet spake, behold a multitude, and he that was called Judas, one of the twelve, went before them, and drew near unto Jesus to kiss him. But Jesus said unto him, Judas, betrayest thou the Son of man with a kiss? When they which were about him saw what would follow, they said unto him, Lord, shall we smite with the sword? And one of them smote the servant of the high priest, and cut off his right ear. And Jesus answered and said, Suffer ye thus far. And he touched his ear, and healed him. Then Jesus said unto the chief priests, and captains of the temple, and the elders, which were come to him, Be ye come out, as against a thief, with swords and staves? When I was daily with you in the temple, ye stretched forth no hands against me; but this is your hour, and the power of darkness. Then took they him, and led him, and brought him into the high priest's house. And Peter followed afar off.... And as soon as it was day, the elders of the people and the chief priests and the scribes came together, and led him into their council, saying, Art thou the Christ? tell us. And he said unto them, If I tell you, ye will not believe: And if I also ask you, ye will not answer me, nor let me go. Hereafter shall the Son of man sit on the right hand of the power of God. Then said they all, Art thou then the Son of God? And he said unto them, Ye say that I am. And they said, What need we any further witness? for we ourselves have heard of his own mouth. And the whole multitude of them arose, and led him unto Pilate. And they began to accuse him, saying, We found this fellow perverting the nation, and forbidding to give tribute to Cæsar, saying that he himself is Christ a King. And Pilate asked him, saying, Art thou the King of the Jews? And he answered him and said, Thou sayest it. Then said Pilate to the chief priests and to the people, I find no fault in this man. And they were the more fierce, saying, He stirreth up the people, teaching throughout all Jewry, beginning from Galilee to this place. When Pilate heard of Galilee, he asked whether the man were a Galilæan. And as soon as he knew that he belonged unto Herod's jurisdiction, he sent him to Herod, who himself also was at Jerusalem at that time. And when Herod saw Jesus, he was exceeding glad: for he was desirous to see him of a long season, because he had heard many things of him; and he hoped to have seen some miracle done by him. Then he questioned with him in many words; but he answered him nothing. And the chief priests and scribes stood and vehemently accused him. And Herod with his men of war set him at nought, and mocked him, and arrayed him in a gorgeous robe, and sent him again to Pilate. And the same day Pilate and Herod were made friends together: for before they were at enmity between themselves. And Pilate, when he had called together the chief priests and the rulers and the people, Said unto them, Ye have brought this man unto me, as one that perverteth the people: and, behold, I, having examined him before you, have found no fault in this man touching those things whereof ye accuse him: No, nor yet Herod: for I sent you to him; and, lo, nothing worthy of death is done unto him. I will therefore chastise him, and release him.... And they cried out all at once, saying, Away with this man, and release unto us Barabbas.... Pilate therefore, willing to release Jesus, spake again to them. But they cried, saying, Crucify him, crucify him. And he said unto them the third time, Why, what evil hath he done? I have found no cause of death in him: I will therefore chastise him, and let him go. And they were instant with loud voices, requiring that he might be crucified. And the voices of them and of the chief priests prevailed. And Pilate gave sentence that it should be as they required. JOHN xviii. 3-38; xix. 1-16. Judas then, having received a band of men and officers from the chief priests and Pharisees, cometh thither with lanterns and torches and weapons.... Then the band and the captain and officers of the Jews took Jesus, and bound him, And led him away to Annas first; for he was father in law to Caiaphas, which was the high priest that same year.... The high priest then asked Jesus of his disciples, and of his doctrine. Jesus answered him, I spake openly to the world; I ever taught in the synagogue, and in the temple, whither the Jews always resort; and in secret have I said nothing. Why askest thou me? ask them which heard me, what I have said unto them: behold, they know what I said. And when he had thus spoken, one of the officers which stood by struck Jesus with the palm of his hand, saying, Answerest thou the high priest so? Jesus answered him, If I have spoken evil, bear witness of the evil: but if well, why smitest thou me? Now Annas had sent him bound unto Caiaphas the high priest.... Then led they Jesus from Caiaphas unto the hall of judgment: and it was early; and they themselves went not into the judgment hall, lest they should be defiled; but that they might eat the passover. Pilate then went out unto them, and said, What accusation bring ye against this man? They answered and said unto him, If he were not a malefactor, we would not have delivered him up unto thee. Then said Pilate unto them, Take ye him, and judge him according to your law. The Jews therefore said unto him, It is not lawful for us to put any man to death.... Then Pilate entered into the judgment hall again, and called Jesus, and said unto him, Art thou the King of the Jews? Jesus answered him, Sayest thou this thing of thyself, or did others tell it thee of me? Pilate answered, Am I a Jew? Thine own nation and the chief priests have delivered thee unto me: what hast thou done? Jesus answered, My kingdom is not of this world: if my kingdom were of this world, then would my servants fight, that I should not be delivered to the Jews: but now is my kingdom not from hence. Pilate therefore said unto him, Art thou a king then? Jesus answered, Thou sayest that I am a king. To this end was I born, and for this cause came I into the world, that I should bear witness unto the truth. Everyone that is of the truth heareth my voice. Pilate saith unto him, What is truth? And when he had said this, he went out again unto the Jews, and saith unto them, I find in him no fault at all. Then Pilate therefore took Jesus, and scourged him. And the soldiers platted a crown of thorns, and put it on his head, and they put on him a purple robe, And said, Hail, King of the Jews! and they smote him with their hands. Pilate therefore went forth again, and saith unto them, Behold, I bring him forth to you, that ye may know that I find no fault in him.... The Jews answered him, We have a law, and by our law he ought to die, because he made himself the Son of God. When Pilate therefore heard that saying, he was the more afraid; And went again into the judgment hall, and saith unto Jesus, Whence art thou? But Jesus gave him no answer.... And from thenceforth Pilate sought to release him: but the Jews cried out, saying, If thou let this man go, thou art not Cæsar's friend: whosoever maketh himself a king speaketh against Cæsar. When Pilate therefore heard that saying, he brought Jesus forth, and sat down in the judgment seat in a place that is called the Pavement, but in the Hebrew, Gabbatha. And it was the preparation of the passover, and about the sixth hour: and he saith unto the Jews, Behold your King! But they cried out, Away with him, away with him, crucify him. Pilate saith unto them, Shall I crucify your King? The chief priests answered, We have no king but Cæsar. Then delivered he him therefore unto them to be crucified. And they took Jesus, and led him away. PART I _THE RECORD OF FACT_ [Illustration: ST. MATTHEW (REMBRANDT)] CHAPTER I THE RECORD OF FACT The Gospels of the New Testament form the record of fact in the trial of Jesus. There is not a line of authentic history in the literature of the world, sacred or profane, dealing originally and authoritatively with the facts and circumstances of the trial and crucifixion of the Christ, excepting these Gospels. A line from Philo--a dubious passage from Josephus--a mere mention by Tacitus--a few scattering fragments from the Talmud--all else is darkness, save the light that streams down through the centuries from Calvary and the Cross through the books of the Evangelists. In dealing with the record of fact contained in the Gospels, in the trial of Jesus two questions naturally suggest themselves: (1) Are the Gospel narratives, such as we have them to-day, identical with those that were given to the world by the Evangelists in Apostolic times? That is, have these biographies of the Christ by the Evangelical writers been handed down to us through all the ages substantially uncorrupted and unimpaired? (2) Are the Gospel writers--Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John--credible witnesses of the facts and circumstances recorded by them in the Gospel histories? That is, did they tell the truth when they wrote and published these narratives to the world? Satisfactory affirmative answers to these questions will establish and authenticate a perfect record of fact. The pages of Part I of this volume will be devoted to giving affirmative and satisfactory answers to these questions. And, in accomplishing this purpose, academic reasoning and metaphysical speculation will be rejected. Well-established rules of evidence, as employed in modern courts of law, will be rigorously applied. So-called "Higher Criticism" has no place in a treatise of this kind, since the critical niceties and dialectic quibbles of men like Strauss, Renan, and Baur would not be seriously considered in a modern judicial proceeding. Reasonable probability, and not mathematical certainty, is the legal test of adequacy in weighing human testimony with a view to a judicial determination. The reader may ask: Why should not a Christian writer, in a Christian country, assume, without argument, that the testimony of Christian sacred writers is true? The answer is that such conduct would convert a purely legal treatise into a religious one, and substitute faith for logic. The writer of these volumes, as a Christian, believes that the Gospels relate the truth. As a lawyer, he is compelled to respect the opinions of a large proportion of mankind who differ with him, and to employ judicial methods in treating a legal theme. The two questions above mentioned involve two distinct principles or features in the Law of Evidence: (1) Admissibility or relevancy of evidence; (2) Credibility of witnesses who have rendered testimony. All the pages of Part I will be devoted to a consideration of these features in their relationship to the testimony of the Evangelists. The first question that naturally arises is this: Is there a well-established rule of the modern Law of Evidence under which the Gospels could be introduced as evidence in a modern judicial proceeding? Suppose that the question of the Resurrection of Jesus--that is, the fact of the truthfulness or falsity of the Resurrection--should become a material fact in issue in a suit in a modern court of law; could the testimony of the Evangelists relating to the Resurrection be introduced in evidence? It would probably be objected that their testimony was hearsay; that they had not been properly subjected to the cardinal tests of truth: an oath, a cross-examination, and personal demeanor while testifying. These objections might prevail if another rule of law could not be successfully invoked. Such a rule exists, and with it we have now to deal. The author can conceive of no more satisfactory way of establishing the principle of the admissibility of the Gospels in evidence under modern law than by quoting at length from the celebrated treatise on the "Testimony of the Evangelists," by Mr. Simon Greenleaf, the greatest of all writers on the Law of Evidence. The opinion of Greenleaf on a subject of this kind is somewhat in the nature of a decision of a court of last resort, and his authority in matters of this import is unquestioned in every land where English law is practiced. _The London Law Magazine_, a few years ago, paid him the following splendid tribute: "It is no mean honor to America that her schools of jurisprudence have produced two of the first writers and best esteemed legal authorities of this century--the great and good man, Judge Story, and his worthy and eminent associate, Professor Greenleaf. Upon the existing Law of Evidence (by Greenleaf) more light has shone from the New World than from all the lawyers who adorn the courts of Europe." Concerning the authenticity of the Sacred Scriptures and their admissibility in evidence, Greenleaf has thus written: That the books of the Old Testament, as we now have them, are genuine; that they existed in the time of our Saviour, and were commonly received and referred to among the Jews as the sacred books of their religion; and that the text of the Four Evangelists has been handed down to us in the state in which it was originally written, that is, without having been materially corrupted or falsified, either by heretics or Christians, are facts which we are entitled to assume as true, until the contrary is shown. The genuineness of these writings really admits of as little doubt, and is susceptible of as ready proof, as that of any ancient writings whatever. The rule of municipal law on this subject is familiar, and applies with equal force to all ancient writings, whether documentary or otherwise; and as it comes first in order, in the prosecution of these inquiries, it may, for the sake of mere convenience, be designated as our first rule. _Every document, apparently ancient, coming from the proper repository or custody, and bearing on its face no evident marks of forgery, the law presumes to be genuine, and devolves on the opposing party the burden of proving it to be otherwise._ An ancient document, offered in evidence in our courts, is said to come from the proper repository, when it is found in the place where, and under the care of persons with whom, such writings might naturally and reasonably be expected to be found; for it is this custody which gives authenticity to documents found within it. If they come from such a place, and bear no evident marks of forgery, the law presumes that they are genuine, and they are permitted to be read in evidence, unless the opposing party is able successfully to impeach them. The burden of showing them to be false and unworthy of credit is devolved on the party who makes that objection. The presumption of law is the judgment of charity. It presumes that every man is innocent until he is proved guilty; that everything has been done fairly and legally until it is proved to have been otherwise; and that every document found in its proper repository, and not bearing marks of forgery, is genuine. Now this is precisely the case with the Sacred Writings. They have been used in the church from time immemorial, and are thus found in the place where alone they ought to be looked for. They come to us, and challenge our reception of them as genuine writings, precisely as Domesday Book, the Ancient Statutes of Wales, or any other of the ancient documents which have recently been published under the British Record Commission are received. They are found in familiar use in all the churches of Christendom, as the sacred books to which all denominations of Christians refer, as the standard of their faith. There is no pretense that they were engraven on plates of gold and discovered in a cave, nor that they were brought from heaven by angels; but they are received as the plain narratives and writings of the men whose names they respectively bear, made public at the time they were written; and though there are some slight discrepancies among the copies subsequently made, there is no pretense that the originals were anywhere corrupted. If it be objected that the originals are lost, and that copies alone are now produced, the principles of the municipal law here also afford a satisfactory answer. For the multiplication of copies was a public fact, in the faithfulness of which all the Christian community had an interest; and it is a rule of law that _In matters of public and general interest, all persons must be presumed to be conversant, on the principle that individuals are presumed to be conversant with their own affairs._ Therefore it is that, in such matters, the prevailing current of assertion is resorted to as evidence, for it is to this that every member of the community is supposed to be privy. The persons, moreover, who multiplied these copies may be regarded, in some manner, as the agents of the Christian public, for whose use and benefit the copies were made; and on the ground of the credit due to such agents, and of the public nature of the facts themselves, the copies thus made are entitled to an extraordinary degree of confidence, and, as in the case of official registers and other public books, it is not necessary that they should be confirmed and sanctioned by the ordinary tests of truth. If any ancient document concerning our public rights were lost, copies which had been as universally received and acted upon as the Four Gospels have been, would have been received in evidence in any of our courts of justice, without the slightest hesitation. The entire text of the Corpus Juris Civilis is received as authority in all the courts of continental Europe, upon much weaker evidence of its genuineness; for the integrity of the Sacred Text has been preserved by the jealousy of opposing sects, beyond any moral possibility of corruption; while that of the Roman Civil Law has been preserved by tacit consent, without the interest of any opposing school, to watch over and preserve it from alteration. These copies of the Holy Scriptures having thus been in familiar use in the churches from the time when the text was committed to writing; having been watched with vigilance by so many sects, opposed to each other in doctrine, yet all appealing to these Scriptures for the correctness of their faith; and having in all ages, down to this day, been respected as the authoritative source of all ecclesiastical power and government, and submitted to, and acted under in regard to so many claims of right, on the one hand, and so many obligations of duty, on the other; it is quite erroneous to suppose that the Christian is bound to offer any further proof of their genuineness or authenticity. It is for the objector to show them spurious; for on him, by the plainest rules of law, lies the burden of proof. If it were the case of a claim to a franchise, and a copy of an ancient deed or charter were produced in support of the title, under parallel circumstances on which to presume its genuineness, no lawyer, it is believed, would venture to deny either its admissibility in evidence or the satisfactory character of the proof. In a recent case in the House of Lords, precisely such a document, being an old manuscript copy, purporting to have been extracted from ancient Journals of the House, which were lost, and to have been made by an officer whose duty it was to prepare lists of the peers, was held admissible in a claim of peerage.[1] Having secured the Gospel writings to be admitted in evidence under the rule laid down by Mr. Greenleaf, we are now ready to consider more at length the question of the credibility of the witnesses. The reader should bear in mind that there is a very important difference between the admission of testimony in evidence and belief in its truthfulness by the court or jury. Evidence is frequently deemed relevant and admissible, and goes to the jury for what it is worth. They may or may not believe it. We are now ready to consider the credit that should be accorded the testimony of Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John concerning the trial and crucifixion of Jesus. And at the outset it should be borne in mind that there is a legal presumption that they told the truth. This presumption operates in their favor from the very moment that their testimony is admitted in evidence. Here, again, the opinion of Greenleaf--with all the weight and authority that such an opinion carries--is directly in point. In the "Testimony of the Evangelists" he says: Proceeding further, to inquire whether the facts related by the Four Evangelists are proved by competent and satisfactory evidence, we are led, first, to consider on which side lies the burden of establishing the credibility of the witnesses. On this point the municipal law furnishes a rule which is of constant application in all trials by jury, and is indeed the dictate of that charity which thinketh no evil. _In the absence of circumstances which generate suspicion, every witness is to be presumed credible, until the contrary is shown, the burden of impeaching his credibility lying on the objector._ This rule serves to show the injustice with which the writers of the Gospels have ever been treated by infidels; an injustice silently acquiesced in even by Christians; in requiring the Christian affirmatively, and by positive evidence, _aliunde_ to establish the credibility of his witnesses above all others, before their testimony is entitled to be considered, and in permitting the testimony of a single profane writer, alone and uncorroborated, to outweigh that of any single Christian. This is not the course in courts of chancery, where the testimony of a single witness is never permitted to outweigh the oath even of the defendant himself, interested as he is in the case; but, on the contrary, if the plaintiff, after having required the oath of his adversary, cannot overthrow it by something more than the oath of one witness, however credible, it must stand as evidence against him. But the Christian writer seems, by the usual course of the argument, to have been deprived of the common presumption of charity in his favor; and reversing the ordinary rule of administering justice in human tribunals, his testimony is unjustly presumed to be false, until it is proved to be true. This treatment, moreover, has been applied to them all in a body; and without due regard to the fact, that, being independent historians, writing at different periods, they are entitled to the support of each other; they have been treated, in the argument, almost as if the New Testament were the entire production, at once, of a body of men, conspiring by a joint fabrication, to impose a false religion upon the world. It is time that this injustice should cease; that the testimony of the evangelists should be admitted to be true, until it can be disproved by those who would impugn it; that the silence of one sacred writer on any point should no more detract from his own veracity or that of other historians, that the like circumstance is permitted to do among profane writers; and that the Four Evangelists should be admitted in corroboration of each other, as readily as Josephus and Tacitus, or Polybius and Livy.[2] The reader will notice from the last extract that the eminent writer quoted has sought to establish the credibility of the Evangelists by a legal presumption in favor of their veracity. But it should be borne in mind that this presumption is a disputable one, and may be overturned by opposing evidence; that objections may be raised which will destroy the force of the presumption and shift the burden again to him who asserts the credibility of the witnesses. Now, let us suppose that such objections have been made, and that sufficient opposing evidence has been offered to accomplish this result; what has the Christian then to say in support of the credibility of the first historians of his faith? What proofs has he to offer, independent of legal presumption, that the first biographers of the Master were truthful men? Can he show that the application of legal tests to their credibility will save them in the eyes of a critical and unbelieving world? The writer believes that the Christian can do it, and will at once assume the task. In "Starkie on Evidence" we find elaborated a rule of municipal law, at once concise and comprehensive, which furnishes a complete test of the credibility of witnesses. The various elements of this rule are constantly operating in the mind of the successful cross-examiner in the course of any extensive cross-examination. _The credit due to the testimony of witnesses depends upon, firstly, their honesty; secondly, their ability; thirdly, their number and the consistency of their testimony; fourthly, the conformity of their testimony with experience; and fifthly, the coincidence of their testimony with collateral circumstances._[3] Let us apply these successive tests, in the order above enumerated, to the Evangelists. (1) In the first place, let us consider the question of their _honesty_. The meaning of the word "honesty," used in this connection, is peculiar. It relates rather to personal sincerity than to personal integrity, and suggests the idea of perjury rather than theft in criminal law. Were the witnesses honest? That is, were they sincere? Did they intend to tell the truth? That is, did they themselves believe what they testified? If so, they were honest witnesses, though their testimony was false, as a result of error in judgment or mistake of fact. In the sense, then, of _sincerity_ is the test of honesty to be applied to the Evangelists as witnesses of the facts which they relate in the New Testament narratives. And in making this test let us bear in mind the nature and scope of this work; that it is not a religious treatise, and that the question of inspiration must not be allowed to confuse a purely legal and historical discussion. As secular historians, and not as inspired writers, must the Evangelists be considered. And in testing their credibility, the customary standards employed in analyzing the motives and conduct of ordinary men in the usual experiences and everyday affairs of life must be applied. To regard them as strange or supernatural beings, subject to some awful influence, and acting under the guidance and protection of some god or hero, is decidedly foreign to the present purpose. It is felt that only two considerations are needed in applying the test of sincerity to the Evangelists: (1) Character; (2) Motive. And this for the reason that honest character and righteous motive are the legitimate parentage of perfect sincerity. Then, as a primary consideration, in discussing their sincerity, it may be reasonably contended that the Gospel writers were either good men or bad. A middle ground is not possible in their case, since the issues joined and the results attained were too terrible and stupendous to have been produced by negative or indifferent forces. Were they good men, then they believed what they taught and wrote, and were sincere, else they deliberately palmed off an imposture on the world, which is inconsistent with the hypothesis that they were good. Were they bad men, then their lives and teachings furnish a contradiction in principle and an inversion in the nature and order of cause and effect which history has not elsewhere recorded, either before or since; for, in their discourses and their writings, they portrayed the divinest character and proclaimed the sublimest truths known to the children of men. Every serious, thoughtful mind at once inquires: Could bad men, conspirators and hypocrites, have painted such a character--one whose perfect purity and sinless beauty mock and shame the mental and spiritual attributes of every false prophet and of all heathen gods? The Olympian Zeus, the sovereign creation of the superb Greek intellect, was a fierce and vindictive deity--at times a faithless spouse and a drunken debauchee. Mahomet, whom two hundred millions of the human race worship as the Inspired of Allah, was cruel and treacherous in warfare, and base and sensual in private life. The Great Spirit of the Indian granted immortality to dogs, but denied it to women. Other hideous and monstrous attributes deformed the images and blurred the characters of pagan prophets and heathen divinities. But Jesus of Nazareth was a pure and perfect being who claimed to be sinless,[4] and whose claims have been admitted by all the world, believers and unbelievers alike. The great truths taught by the gentle Nazarene and transmitted by the Evangelists have brought balm and healing to the nations, have proclaimed and established universal brotherhood among men. Is it probable that such a character was painted and such truths proclaimed by dishonest and insincere men? Can Vice be the mother of Virtue? "Do men gather grapes of thorns or figs of thistles?" If Jesus was not really the pure and holy being portrayed by the Gospels, then the Evangelists have created a sublime character in a superb fiction which surpasses anything to be found in profane literature, and that evil-minded men could neither have conceived nor executed. It is impossible to derive from these reflections any other conclusion than the absolute honesty and perfect sincerity of the Evangelists. Besides, the mere perusal of their writings leaves a deep impression that they were pure and pious men. Again, a second and more serious consideration than that of character, as affecting the sincerity of the Gospel writers, is the question of motive. If the Evangelists were insincere and did not believe their own story, what motive prompted them to tell it, to preach it and to die for it? It is not believed that all men are now or have ever been wholly selfish, but it is contended that desire for compensation is the main inducement to human action, mental and manual. Reward is the great golden key that opens the door of the Temple of Labor, and some form of recompense, here or hereafter, explains all the bustling activity of men. The Apostles themselves acted in obedience to this law, for we find them quarreling among themselves as to place and precedence in the New Kingdom. They even demanded of the Master the exact nature of their reward for labors performed and sacrifices endured. To which reply was made that they should sit on twelve thrones and judge the Twelve Tribes of Israel. Now let us apply this principle of expectation of reward to the conduct of the Evangelists in preaching and publishing the Gospel of the Nazarene, and let us note particularly the result as it affects the question of motive in human conduct. But first let us review, for a moment, the political and religious situation at the beginning of the Apostolic ministry. The Master and Savior of the first Christians had just perished as a malefactor on the cross. The religion which the Apostles began to preach was founded in the doctrine of repentance from sins, faith in the Crucified One, and belief in His resurrection from the dead. Christianity, of which these elements were the essentials, sought to destroy and supplant all other religions. No compromises were proposed, no treaties were concluded. The followers of the Nazarene raised a black flag against paganism and every heathen god. No quarter was asked and none was given. This strange faith not only defied all other religions, but mocked all earthly government not built upon it. The small, but devoted, band, thus arrayed against themselves in the very beginning all the opposing religious and secular forces of the earth. Judaism branded the new creed as a disobedient and rebellious daughter. Paganism denounced it as a sham and a fraud, because its doctrines were unknown to the Portico and the Academy, and because its teachings were ridiculed by both Stoics and Epicureans. The Roman State cast a jealous and watchful eye upon the haughty pretensions of a religious system that taught the impotence of kings and sought to degrade earthly royalty. In seeking, then, to establish the new faith and to inculcate its doctrines, what could and did the Evangelists expect but the bitter opposition which they met? Did they seriously hope to see the proud and haughty Sadducee, who despised the common people, or the kingly aristocracy of Rome, that vaunted a superhuman excellence, complacently accept a religion that taught the absolute equality and the universal brotherhood of men? Did they not expect what they actually received--bitter persecution, horrible torture, and cruel death? Then we are led to ask: Was this the recompense which they sought? Again, we pose the question: What was the motive of these men in thus acting, if they were dishonest and insincere? If they knew that they were preaching a falsehood, what reward did they expect? Was it of an earthly or a heavenly kind? It is unreasonable to suppose that they looked forward to earthly recompense when their teachings arrayed against them every spiritual and temporal potentate who had honors to grant or favors to confer. Were they looking for heavenly reward? It is ridiculous to imagine that they hoped to gain this by preaching a falsehood in this world. Nothing could be, therefore, more absurd than the proposition that a number of men banded themselves together, repudiated the ancient faith of their fathers, changed completely their mode of life, became austere in professing and practicing principles of virtue, spent their entire lives proclaiming certain truths to mankind, and then suffered the deaths of martyrs--all for the sake of a religion which they knew to be false. If they did not believe it to be false, they were sincere, and one element of their credibility is established. It is not a question at this time as to the absolute correctness of their statements. These statements might have been false, though their authors believed them to be true--it is a question of sincerity at this point; and the test of sincerity, as an element of credibility, rests upon the simple basis that men are more disposed to believe the statement of a witness if it is thought that the witness himself believes it. (2) In the second place, let us consider the _ability_ of the Evangelists as a test of their credibility as witnesses. The text writers on the Law of Evidence are generally agreed that the ability of a witness to speak truthfully and accurately depends upon two considerations: (1) His natural powers of observation, which enable him to clearly perceive, and his strength of memory, which enables him to fully retain the matters of fact to which his testimony relates; (2) his opportunities for observing the things about which he testifies. To what extent the Gospel writers possessed the first of these qualifications--that is, power of observation and strength of memory--we are not informed by either history or tradition. But we are certainly justified in assuming to be true what the law actually presumes: that they were at least men of sound mind and average intelligence. This presumption, it may be remarked, continues to exist in favor of the witness until an objector appears who proves the contrary by competent and satisfactory evidence. It is not believed that this proof has ever been or can ever be successfully established in the case of the Evangelists. Aside from this legal presumption in their favor, there are certain considerations which lead us to believe that they were well qualified to speak truthfully and authoritatively about the matters relating to Gospel history. In the first place, the writings themselves indicate extraordinary mental vigor, as well as cultivated intelligence. The Gospels of Luke and John, moreover, reveal that the elegance of style and lofty imagery which are the invariable characteristics of intellectual depth and culture. The "ignorant fishermen" idea is certainly not applicable to the Gospel writers. If they were ever very ignorant, at the time of the composition of the Evangelical writings they had outgrown the affliction. The fact that the Gospels were written in Greek by Hebrews indicates that they were not entirely illiterate. Again, the occupations of two of them are very suggestive. Matthew was a collector at the seat of customs,[5] and Luke was a physician.[6] Both these callings required more than ordinary knowledge of men, as well as accurate powers of observation, discrimination, and analysis. But it has been frequently urged that, regardless of their natural endowments, the Evangelists were biased in favor of Jesus and His teachings, and bitterly prejudiced against all opposing faiths. In other words, they were at the same moment both enthusiasts and fanatics. For this reason, it is contended, their testimony is unreliable. This is without doubt the weakest assault ever made upon the trustworthiness of the Gospel narratives. That the Gospel writers were neither fanatics nor enthusiasts is evident from the very tone and style of the Sacred Writings themselves. The language of fanaticism and enthusiasm is the language of rant and rage, of vituperation and of censure, on the one hand, and of eulogy and adulation on the other. The enthusiast knows no limit to the praise of those whose cause he advocates. The fanatic places no bounds to his denunciation of those whom he opposes. Now, the most remarkable characteristic of the New Testament histories is the spirit of quiet dignity and simple candor which everywhere pervades them. There is nowhere the slightest trace of bitterness or resentment. There is enthusiasm everywhere in the sense of religious fervor, but nowhere in the sense of unbecoming heat or impatient caviling. The three eventful years of the ministry of Jesus afforded many opportunities for the display of temper and for the use of invective in the Evangelical writings. The murder of the Baptist by Herod; his cunning designs against Jesus; the constant dogging of the footsteps of the Master by the spies of the Sanhedrin; and His crucifixion by the order of Pontius Pilate--what more could be desired to make the heart rage and the blood boil? But nowhere is there the slightest exhibition of violent feeling or extravagant emotion. A gentle forbearance, a mild equanimity, a becoming dignity, mark every thought and utterance. The character of Pilate, as portrayed in the New Testament, is a supreme illustration of the fairness and magnanimity of the Gospel writers. Philo and Josephus describe the Roman procurator as stubborn, cruel, and vindictive. The only kindly suggestion touching the character of Pilate that has come down from the ancient world, is that contained in the writings of men who, above all others, would have been justified in describing him as cowardly and craven. Instead of painting him as a monster, they have linked conscience to his character and stored mercy in his heart, by their accounts of his repeated attempts to release Jesus. Fanatics and enthusiasts would not have done this. Again, the absence of both bias and prejudice in the minds and hearts of the Evangelists is shown by the fact that they did not hesitate to record their own ludicrous foibles and blunders, and to proclaim them to the world. A disposition to do this is one of the surest indications of a truthful mind. It is in the nature of "a declaration against interest," in the phraseology of the law; and such declarations are believed because it has been universally observed that "men are not likely to invent anecdotes to their own discredit." "When we find them in any author," says Professor Fisher in his "Grounds of Theistic and Christian Belief," "a strong presumption is raised in favor of his general truthfulness." Many passages of New Testament Scriptures place Jesus and the Apostles in a most unfavorable light before the world. The denial of the Master by Peter[7] and His betrayal by Judas;[8] the flight of the Eleven from the Garden at the time of the arrest;[9] the ridiculous attempt of Peter to walk upon the sea and his failure because of lack of faith;[10] the frequent childish contentions among the disciples for place and precedence in the affections of Jesus and in the New Kingdom;[11] the embassy from John the Baptist to Jesus asking if He, Jesus, was the Messiah, after the latter had already visited the former, and had been baptized by him;[12] the belief of the family of Jesus that He was mad;[13] and the fact that His neighbors at Nazareth threatened to kill Him by hurling Him from a cliff[14]--these various recitals have furnished a handle to skeptical criticism in every age. They might as well have been omitted from the Gospel histories; and they would have been omitted by designing and untruthful men. Again, touching the question of bias and prejudice, it is worthy of observation that skeptics fail to apply the same rules of criticism to sacred that they employ in profane literature. It is contended by them that the Evangelists are unworthy of belief because their writings record the words and deeds of their own Lord and Master. It is asserted that this sacred and tender relationship warped and blinded their Judgment, and disqualified them to write truthfully the facts and circumstances connected with the life and ministry of the founder of their faith. But these same critics do not apply the same tests of credibility to secular writers sustaining similar relationships. The Commentaries of Cæsar and the Anabasis of Xenophon record the mighty deeds and brilliant achievements of their authors; but this fact does not destroy their reliability as historical records in the estimation of those who insist that the Gospel writers shall be rejected on grounds of bias and partiality. The Memorabilia of Xenophon, "Recollections of Socrates," is the tribute of an affectionate and admiring disciple; and yet, all the colleges and universities of the world employ this work as a text-book in teaching the life and style of conversation of the great Athenian philosopher. It is never argued that the intimate relationship existing between Xenophon and Socrates should affect the credibility of the author of the Memorabilia. The best biography in the English language is Boswell's "Life of Johnson." Boswell's admiration for Dr. Johnson was idolatrous. At times, his servile flattery of the great Englishman amounted to disgusting sycophancy. In spite of this, his work is a monumental contribution to historical literature. The "Encyclopedia Britannica" says that "Boswell has produced the best biography the world has yet seen"; but why not reject this book because of its author's spaniel-like devotion to the man whose life he has written? If Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John are to be repudiated on the ground of bias, why not repudiate Cæsar, Xenophon, and Boswell? It is respectfully submitted that there is no real difference in logic between the tests of credibility applicable to sacred, and those required in the case of profane writers. A just and exact criticism will apply the same rules to both. As to the second qualification above mentioned, under the second legal test of credibility laid down by Starkie, that is, the opportunity of observing facts and circumstances about which testimony is given, it may safely be said that the majority of the Evangelists possessed it in the highest degree. The most convincing testimony that can possibly be offered in a court of law is that of an eyewitness who has seen or heard what he testifies. Now, it is reasonably certain that all of the Gospel writers were eyewitnesses of most of the events recorded by them in the Gospel histories. Both Matthew and John were numbered among the Twelve who constantly attended the Master in all His wanderings, heard His discourses, witnessed the performance of His miracles, and proclaimed His faith after He was gone. It is very probable that Mark was another eyewitness of the events in the life and ministry of the Savior. It is now very generally agreed that the author of the Second Gospel was the young man who threw away his garment and fled at the time of the arrest in the Garden.[15] If Mark was actually present at midnight in Gethsemane peering through the shadows to see what would be done to the Nazarene by the mob, it is more than probable that he was also a witness of many other events in the life and ministry of the great Teacher. But, whether this be true or not, it is very well settled that the Second Gospel was dictated to Mark by Peter, who was as familiar with all the acts and words of Jesus as was Matthew or John. The Christian writers of antiquity unanimously testify that Mark wrote the Gospel ascribed to him, at the dictation of Peter. If their testimony is true, Peter is the real author of the Second Gospel. That the Gospel of Mark was written by an eyewitness is the opinion of Renan, the skeptic, who says: "In Mark, the facts are related with a clearness for which we seek in vain amongst the other Evangelists. He likes to report certain words of Jesus in Syro-Chaldean. He is full of minute observations, coming doubtless from an eye-witness. There is nothing to prevent our agreeing with Papias in regarding this eye-witness, who evidently had followed Jesus, who had loved Him and observed Him very closely, and who had preserved a lively image of Him, as the Apostle Peter himself."[16] The same writer declares Matthew to have been an eyewitness of the events described by him. He says: "On the whole, I admit as authentic the four canonical Gospels. All, in my opinion, date from the first century, and the authors are, generally speaking, those to whom they are attributed; but their historic value is diverse. Matthew evidently merits an unlimited confidence as to the discourses; they are the Logia, the identical notes taken from a clear and lively remembrance of the teachings of Jesus."[16] That Luke was an eyewitness of many of the things recorded by him, and that the others were related to him by eyewitnesses, is perfectly clear from the introductory verses of his Gospel. In addressing his royal patron, Theophilus, he assures him that those who communicated the information contained in the Gospel to him were eyewitnesses; and follows by saying that he himself had had "perfect understanding of all things from the very first."[17] The evident meaning of this is that, desiring full information for Theophilus, he had supplemented his own personal knowledge by additional facts secured from eyewitnesses to those things which, not being of the Twelve, he himself had not seen. St. John was peculiarly well qualified to record the sayings and doings of the Christ. He was called "the disciple whom Jesus loved." He was admitted into the presence of the Savior, at all times, on terms of the utmost intimacy and friendship. At the Last Supper, his head reposed confidingly and lovingly upon the bosom of the Master. Together with Peter and James, he witnessed the resurrection of Jairus' daughter; was present at the Transfiguration on the Mount, and at the agony of the Savior in the Garden. From the cross, Jesus placed upon him the tender and pathetic burden of caring for His mother; and, running ahead of Peter, he was the first among the Twelve to arrive at the open sepulcher. By means of a favorable acquaintanceship with the High Priest, he was enabled to gain access to the palace and to be present at the trial of Jesus, as well as to introduce Peter, his friend. It is thus clearly evident that the Evangelists were amply able, from any point of view, to truthfully and accurately record the events narrated in the Gospel histories. As eyewitnesses, being on the ground and having the situation well in hand, they were certainly better qualified to write truthful history of the events then occurring than historians and critics who lived centuries afterwards. But it is frequently contended that, if the Evangelists were eyewitnesses of the leading events which they recorded, they committed them to writing so long afterwards that they had forgotten them, or had confused them with various traditions that had in the meantime grown up. There may be some little truth in this contention, but not enough to destroy the credibility of the witnesses as to events such as the Crucifixion and Resurrection of Jesus. These are not matters to be easily forgotten or confused with other things. The date of the composition and publication of the different Gospels is not known. But Professor Holtzmann, of Heidelberg (a man who cannot be said to be favorable to Christianity, since he was for several years the leader of the freethinkers in the Grand Duchy of Baden), after many years of careful study of the subject, declared that the Synoptic Gospels, the first three, were committed to writing between the years 60 and 80 of our era.[18] This was only from thirty to fifty years after the death of Jesus. Could men of average memory and intelligence who had been almost daily preaching the life and deeds of Jesus during these thirty or fifty years have forgotten them? The testimony of Principal Drummond, of Oxford, is very pertinent at this point. He says: "If we suppose that the Synoptic Gospels were written from forty to sixty years after the time of Christ, still they were based on earlier material, and even after forty years the memory of characteristic sayings may be perfectly clear.... I have not a particularly good memory, but I can recall many sayings that were uttered forty, or even fifty, years ago, and in some cases can vividly recollect the scene."[19] If the Evangelists were eyewitnesses, which the records seem clearly to indicate, they possessed one of the strongest tests of credibility. (3) In the third place, as to their _number_ and the _consistency_ of their testimony. The credibility of a witness is greatly strengthened if his testimony is corroborated by other witnesses who testify to substantially the same thing. The greater the number of supporting witnesses, fraud and collusion being barred, the greater the credibility of the witness corroborated. But corroboration implies the presence in evidence of due and reasonable consistency between the testimony of the witness testifying and that of those corroborating. A radical discrepancy on a material point not only fails to strengthen, but tends to destroy the credibility of one or both the witnesses. Now, the fierce fire of skeptical criticism during all the ages has been centered upon the so-called discrepancies of the Gospel narratives. It is asserted by many critics that these inconsistencies are so numerous and so palpable, that the Gospel records are worthless, even as secular histories. The authors of these writings, according to the skeptics, mutually destroy each other. [Illustration: ST. MARK AND ST. PAUL (DÜRER)] In considering this phase of the credibility of the Gospel writers, it must again be remembered that the question of inspiration has no place in this discussion; and that Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John must be regarded simply as secular historians. The reader is urged to consider the biographers of the Christ as he would consider ordinary witnesses in a court of law; to apply to them the same tests of credibility; to sift and weigh their testimony in the same manner; and to subject them to the same rules of cross-examination. If this is done, it is felt that the result will be entirely favorable to the veracity and integrity of the sacred writers. In considering the subject of discrepancies it should be constantly kept in mind that contradictions in testimony do not necessarily mean that there has been falsehood or bad faith on the part of the witnesses. Every lawyer of experience and every adult citizen of average intelligence knows that this is true. Men of unquestioned veracity and incorruptible integrity are frequently arrayed against each other in both civil and criminal trials, and the record reveals irreconcilable contradictions in their testimony. Not only do prosecutions for perjury not follow, but, in many instances, the witnesses are not even suspected of bad faith or an intention to falsify. Defects in sight, hearing, or memory; superior advantage in the matter of observation; or a sudden change in the position of one or both the parties, causing distraction of attention, at the time of the occurrence of the events involved in litigation--all or any of these conditions, as well as many others, may create discrepancies and contradictions where there is a total absence of any intention to misrepresent. A thorough appreciation of this fact will greatly aid in a clear understanding of this phase of the discussion. Again, an investigation of the charge of discrepancy against the Gospel writers shows that the critics and skeptics have classified mere _omissions_ as contradictions. Nothing could be more absurd than to consider an omission a contradiction, unless the requirements of the case show that the facts and circumstances omitted were essential to be stated, or that the omission was evidently intended to mislead or deceive. Any other contention would turn historical literature topsy-turvy and load it down with contradictions. Dion Cassius, Tacitus, and Suetonius have all written elaborately of the reign of Tiberius. Many things are mentioned by each that are not recorded by the other two. Are we to reject all three as unreliable historians because of this fact? Abbott, Hazlitt, Bourrienne, and Walter Scott have written biographies of Napoleon Bonaparte. No one of them has recited all the facts recorded by the others. Are these omissions to destroy the merits of all these writers and cause them to be suspected and rejected? Grafton's Chronicles rank high in English historical literature. They comprise the reign of King John; and yet make no mention of the granting of Magna Charta. This is as if the life of Jefferson had been written without mention of the Declaration of Independence; or a biography of Lincoln without calling attention to the Emancipation Proclamation. Notwithstanding this strange omission, Englishmen still preserve Grafton's Chronicles as valuable records among their archives. And the same spirit of generous criticism is everywhere displayed in matters of profane literature. The opponents of Christianity are never embarrassed in excusing or explaining away omissions or contradictions, provided the writer is a layman and his subject secular. But let the theme be a sacred one, and the author an ecclesiastic--preacher, priest, or prophet--and immediately incredulity rises to high tide, engulfs the reason, and destroys all dispassionate criticism. Could it be forgotten for a moment that Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John were biographers of the Christ, a sacred person, no difficulties would arise in the matter of inconsistencies, no objections would be made to their credibility. The slight discrepancies that undoubtedly exist would pass unnoticed, or be forever buried under the weight of an overwhelming conviction that they are, in the main, accurate and truthful. But the Evangelists were guided by inspiration, the skeptics say; and discrepancies are inconsistent with the theory of inspiration. God would not have inspired them to write contradictory stories. But the assumption is false that they claimed to be guided by inspiration; for, as Marcus Dods truthfully says, "none of our Gospels pretends to be infallible or even _inspired_. Only one of them tells us how its writer obtained his information, and that was by careful inquiry at the proper sources."[20] But whether the Gospel writers were inspired or not is immaterial so far as the purpose of this chapter is concerned. The rules of evidence testing their credibility would be the same in either case. A more pertinent observation upon the Gospel discrepancies has not been made than that by Paley in his "Evidences of Christianity," where he says: I know not a more rash or more unphilosophical conduct of the understanding than to reject the substance of a story by reason of some diversity in the circumstances with which it is related. The usual character of human testimony is substantial truth under circumstantial variety. This is what the daily experience of courts of justice teaches. When accounts of a transaction come from the mouths of different witnesses it is seldom that it is not possible to pick out apparent or real inconsistencies between them. These inconsistencies are studiously displayed by an adverse pleader, but oftentimes with little impression upon the minds of the judges. On the contrary, a close and minute agreement induces the suspicion of confederacy and fraud. When written histories touch upon the same scenes of action, the comparison almost always affords ground for a like reflection. Numerous, and sometimes important, variations present themselves; not seldom, also, absolute and final contradictions; yet neither one nor the other are deemed sufficient to shake the credibility of the main fact. The embassy of the Jews to deprecate the execution of Claudian's order to place his statue in their temple, Philo places in the harvest, Josephus in seed-time; both contemporary writers. No reader is led by this inconsistency to doubt whether such an embassy was sent, or whether such an order was given. Our own history supplies examples of the same kind. In the account of the Marquis of Argyll's death, in the reign of Charles II, we have very remarkable contradiction. Lord Clarendon relates that he was condemned to be hanged, which was performed the same day; on the contrary, Burnet, Woodrow, Heath, Echard, concur in stating that he was condemned upon the Saturday and executed upon a Monday. Was any reader of English history ever skeptic enough to raise from hence a question, whether the Marquis of Argyll was executed or not? Yet this ought to be left in uncertainty, according to the principles upon which the Christian history has sometimes been attacked.[21] The reader should most carefully consider the useful as well as the damaging effect of Gospel inconsistencies in the matter of the credibility of the Evangelists. A certain class of persons have imagined the Gospel writers to be common conspirators who met together at the same time and place to devise ways and means of publishing a false report to the world. This is a silly supposition, since it is positively known that the authors of the Evangelical narratives wrote and published them at different times and places. Moreover, the style and contents of the books themselves negative the idea of a concerted purpose to deceive. And, besides, the very inconsistencies themselves show that there was no "confederacy and fraud"; since intelligent conspirators would have fabricated exactly the same story in substantially the same language. Furthermore, a just and impartial criticism will consider not only the discrepant but also the corroborative elements in the New Testament histories. It should not be forgotten that the authors of the Gospels were independent historians who wrote at different times and places. Then, in all matters of fact in which there is a common agreement, they may be said to fully corroborate each other. And it may be contended without fear of successful contradiction that, when so considered, there will be found numerous cases of corroboration where there is one of discord or inconsistency. The corroborative elements or features in the Evangelical narratives may be classified under three headings: (1) Instances in which certain historical events related by one of the Gospel writers are also told by one or more of the others. These are cases of ordinary corroboration. (2) Instances in which the recital of a certain fact by one of the Evangelists would be obscure or meaningless unless explained or supplemented by another. These may be regarded as examples of internal confirmation. (3) Instances in which the fact related by one Evangelist must be true from the nature of the case, regardless of what the others have said. This is the simple confirmation of logic or reason. A few illustrations will serve to make clear this classification. Under the first heading of "ordinary corroboration" may be mentioned the accounts of the miracle of feeding the five thousand. All the Evangelists tell us of this event, and each records the fact that the fragments taken up were _twelve baskets full_.[22] Under the second heading of "internal confirmation" the following instances may be cited: Matt. xxvi. 67, 68: "And others smote him with the palms of their hands, saying, Prophesy unto us, thou Christ, Who is he that smote thee?" A caviling criticism would demand: Why ask of the Christ to _prophesy_ to those in His presence? And the obscurity would be damaging, were it not for an additional sentence in Luke, who records the same circumstance. "_And when they had blindfolded him_, they struck him on the face, and asked him, saying, Prophesy, Who is it that smote thee?"[23] The fact that Jesus was blindfolded, which is told by Luke, explains the use of the word "prophesy" by Matthew, which would otherwise be absurd. Again, Matt. xiii. 2: "And great multitudes were gathered together with him, so that he went into the ship, and sat." Here, the definite article points to a particular ship which Matthew fails to mention. But Mark comes to his aid and clearly explains the statement: "And he spake to his disciples, that a small vessel should wait upon him because of the multitude, lest they should throng him." These two passages taken together identify the ship. Again, John vi. 5: "When Jesus lifted up his eyes, and saw a great company come to him, he saith unto Philip, Whence shall we buy bread that these may eat?" This is one of the only two places in the Gospel where Jesus addressed this Apostle. But why ask Philip instead of one of the others? Two other passages, one from John and one from Luke, furnish an explanation. In John i. 44 we read that "Philip was of Bethsaida." In Luke ix. 10 we learn that the scene of the event, the miracle of feeding the five thousand, was "a desert place belonging to the city called Bethsaida." The reason, then, for addressing Philip, instead of one of the other Apostles, is clear. Bethsaida was the home of Philip; and he would naturally, therefore, be more familiar with the location of the bread shops than the others. In John vi., where the question is asked, neither the place of the feeding nor the apostle questioned is even remotely connected with the city of Bethsaida; and in Luke the account of the miracle says nothing of Philip or the question put to him. But when the passages are connected the striking coincidence appears, and the explanation is complete. Again, John xviii. 10: "Then Simon Peter, having a sword, drew it and smote the high priest's servant, and cut off his right ear. The servant's name was Malchus." It has been objected that there is nowhere an account of the arrest or punishment of Peter for this assault and resistance to armed authority; and that, therefore, there was no such occurrence. A passage from Luke explains the failure to arrest. "And Jesus answered and said, Suffer ye thus far, and he touched his ear and healed him."[24] The healing of the ear explains why no arrest followed; for, if charges had been made, there would have been no evidence of the gravity of the offense. Indeed, witnesses against Peter would have been completely confounded and humiliated by the result of the miracle; and might have been driven from court as malicious accusers. Then, the failure to arrest is a silent corroboration of the statement that the event occurred and that the miracle was performed. Under the third heading, of the "confirmation of logic or reason," a single instance will suffice. John xx. 4: "And the other disciple did outrun Peter and came first to the sepulchre." The "other disciple" was St. John, who is generally conceded to have been the youngest of the Apostles. And St. Peter, we may judge from John xxi. 18, was already past the meridian of life. What could be more natural than that the younger man should outrun the older and arrive first at the sepulcher? What better proof could be expected of the fact of the existence of that sweetness and modesty in youth which respects old age, and that endeared John to Jesus above all others, than we have here, where the younger man awaits the arrival of the older before beginning to explore the deserted tomb? Examples similar to these might be multiplied at length, since the Gospel histories are filled with them; but those above mentioned are deemed sufficient to illustrate the theory of corroboration. The instances of internal confirmation in the New Testament narratives are especially convincing. They are arguments and proofs in the nature of undesigned coincidences which, from the very nature of the case, shut out all possibility of collusion or fraud. In most cases they are expressed in a single phrase and represent an isolated thought corroborative of some other elsewhere expressed. Though small, detached, and fragmentary, like particles of dynamite, they operate with resistless force when collected and combined. Once more attention is called to the fact that these discrepancies negative completely the idea that the Gospel writers were conspirators, bent upon the common purpose of deceiving mankind by publishing a false history to the world. Nothing could be more absurd than to suppose that men conspiring to perpetrate a fraud, would neglect a fundamental principle underlying all successful conspiracy; that is, the creation and maintenance of a due and reasonable consistency between the words and deeds of the conspirators in formulating plans for carrying out the common purpose. Then, if there was no previous concert, the fact that four men, writing at different times and places, concurred in framing substantially the same history, is one of the strongest proofs of the credibility of the writers and the truthfulness of their narratives. And on this point the testimony of a very great writer may be quoted: that "in a number of concurrent testimonies, where there has been no previous concert, there is a probability distinct from that which may be termed the sum of the probabilities resulting from the testimonies of the witnesses; a probability which would remain, even though the witnesses were of such a character as to merit no faith at all. This probability arises from the concurrence itself. That such a concurrence should spring from chance is as one to infinite; that is, in other words, morally impossible. If, therefore, concert be excluded, there remains no cause but the reality of the fact."[25] Apply the theory of probability, arising from concurrent testimonies, where there has been no previous concert, to the case of the Evangelists, and we are at once convinced that they were truthful and that their histories are true. (4) Let us now consider the _conformity of the testimony of the Evangelists with human experience_. This is the fourth legal test of the credibility of witnesses prescribed by Starkie. The conformity of testimony with experience is one of the most potent and universally applied tests of the credibility of witnesses. And it may be remarked that its application is not confined to judicial proceedings or to courts of law. It requires no professional attainments to make it effective. The blacksmith and carpenter, as well as the judge and jury, employ it in every mental operation where the statements of others are submitted to analysis and investigation. A new theory being proposed, the correctness of which is questioned, the test of experience is at once applied. If it is not in harmony with what we have seen and heard and felt, we usually reject it; or, at least, doubt it. If an explorer should return from the Arctic regions and tell us that he had seen oranges, such as we import from Florida, growing on trees near the North Pole, we would not believe him. Neither would we credit the statement of a traveler from South America that he had seen Polar bears browsing on the banks of the Amazon. These representations would be utterly inconsistent with what we know to be the essential conditions of orange culture, and with the well-known habits and climatic nature of the Polar bear. An ancient document, purporting to date from the time of Washington and the Revolution, and containing recitals about railways, telegraphs, telephones, and electric lights, would be recognized at once as spurious, because our own experience as well as facts of history would tell us that there were no such things in the days of Washington and the American Revolution. These are simple illustrations of the application of the test of experience in the mental processes of weighing and sifting the testimony of others. Now, no serious objection to the credibility of the Gospel writers has been made under the test of the conformity of their statements with experience, except in the matter of miracles. It is generally admitted, even by skeptics, that the facts stated in the New Testament narratives might have happened in the due course of nature and in harmony with human experience, except where miracles are related. A few skeptics have declared that a miracle is an impossibility and that the Evangelists were either deceivers or deceived when they wrote their accounts of the miraculous performances of the Christ; and that, whether deceivers or deceived, they are unworthy of belief. The great antagonist of the theory of miracles among those who assert their impossibility is Spinoza, who has thus written: "A miracle, whether contrary to or above nature, is a sheer absurdity. Nothing happens in nature which does not follow from its laws; these laws extend to all which enters the Divine mind; and, lastly, nature proceeds in a fixed and changeless course--whence it follows that the word 'miracle' can only be understood in relation to the opinions of mankind, and signifies nothing more than an event, a phenomenon, the cause of which cannot be explained by another familiar instance.... I might say, indeed, that a miracle was _that_, the cause of which cannot be explained by our _natural understanding from the known principles of natural things_." The radical antagonism of Spinoza to the doctrine of miracles, as taught in the New Testament scriptures, was the legitimate offspring of his peculiar philosophy. He was a pantheist and identified God with nature. He did not believe in a personal God, separate from and superior to nature. He repudiated the theory of a spiritual kingdom having a spiritual sovereign to whom earth and nature are subject and obedient. Therefore, every manifestation of power which he could not identify with a natural force he believed was unreal, if not actually deceptive and fraudulent; since he could not imagine anything superior to nature that could have created the phenomenon. His denial of miracles was, then, really nothing less than a denial of the existence of a personal God who spoke the earth into being in the very beginning; and has since, with a watchful paternal eye, followed its movements and controlled its destiny. The question of miracles is really a matter of faith and not a problem of science. It is impossible to either prove or disprove the nature of a miracle by physical demonstration. In other words, it is impossible to analyze a miracle from the standpoint of chemistry or physics. The performance of a miracle, nevertheless, may be proved by ordinary human testimony, as any other event may be proved. We may testify to the fact without being able to understand or to demonstrate the cause. Those who believe that there are distinct spiritual as well as physical forces in the universe; that there is somewhere an omniscient and omnipotent Spiritual Being who has but to will the creation of a planet or the destruction of matter in order to accomplish the result desired, can easily believe in the exercise of miraculous power. Those who believe the Bible account of the creation, that God said in the beginning, "Let there be light: and there was light"--such persons find no difficulty in believing that Jesus converted water into wine or caused the lame to walk, if they believe that He was this same God "manifest in the flesh." A divinity who, in the morning of creation, spoke something out of nothing, would certainly not be impotent to restore life to Lazarus or sight to the blind Bartimeus. The trouble with the philosophy of Spinoza is that his own high priestess--Nature--seems to be constantly working miracles under his own definition; and miracles, too, that very closely resemble the wonders said to have been wrought by the Christ. Milk is taken into the stomach, subjected to various processes of digestion, is then thrown into the blood and finally becomes flesh and bone. The ultimate step in this process of transformation is unknown and, perhaps, unknowable to scientists. No deeper mystery is suggested by the New Testament scriptures. The conversion of water into wine is no stranger, no more incomprehensible than the transformation of milk into flesh and bone. It may be admitted that the chemical elements are the same throughout in one process and different in the other. Nevertheless, the results of both are perfectly described by Spinoza's definition, "that a miracle was _that_, the cause of which cannot be explained by our _natural understanding from the known principles of natural things_." It may be truthfully remarked that nature is everywhere and at all times working wonders in harmony with and parallel to the miracles wrought by the spiritual forces of the universe. God's sovereign miracle may be described as the changing of a man, with all his sins and imperfections, into a winged spirit, thus fitting him to leave the coarse and vulgar earth for life among the stars. Nature, in her feeble way, tries to imitate the wonder by transforming the caterpillar into a butterfly, thus fitting it to leave the dunghill for life among the flowers. Spinoza insists that miracles are impossible because "nature proceeds in a fixed and changeless course." But is this really true? Are the laws of nature invariably uniform? Does not nature seem at times tired of uniformity and resolved to rise to liberty by the creation of what we call a miracle, or more vulgarly, a "freak"? Moving in what Spinoza is pleased to call a "fixed and changeless course," nature ordinarily provides a chicken with two legs and a snake with one head. But what about chickens with three legs and snakes with two heads, such as are frequently seen? Was nature moving in a fixed and changeless course when these things were created? Could Spinoza have explained such phenomena by his "natural understanding from the known principles of natural things"? Would he have contented himself with calling them natural "accidents" or "freaks"? Nevertheless, they are miracles under his definition; and the entire subject must be discussed and debated with reference to some standard or definition of a miracle. If nature occasionally, in moments of sportiveness or digression, upsets her own laws and creates what we call "freaks," why is it unreasonable to suppose that the great God who created nature should not, at times, temporarily suspend the laws which He has made for the government of the universe, or even devote them to strange and novel purposes in the creation of those noble phenomena which we call miracles? Other skeptics, like Renan, do not deny the possibility of miracles, but simply content themselves with asserting that there is no sufficient proof that such things ever happened. They thus repudiate the testimony of the Evangelists in this regard. "It is not," says Renan, "then, in the name of this or that philosophy, but in the name of universal experience, that we banish miracle from history. We do not say that miracles are impossible. We do say that up to this time a miracle has never been proved." Then the Breton biographer and philosopher gives us his idea of the tests that should be made in order to furnish adequate proof that a miracle has been performed. "If to-morrow," he says, "a thaumaturgus presents himself with credentials sufficiently important to be discussed and announces himself as able, say, to raise the dead, what would be done? A commission composed of physiologists, physicists, chemists, persons accustomed to historical criticism would be named. This commission would choose a corpse, would assure itself that the death was real, would select a room in which the experiment should be made, would arrange the whole system of precautions, so as to leave no chance of doubt. If, under such conditions, the resurrection were effected, a probability almost equal to certainty would be established. As, however, it ought to be possible always to repeat an experiment--to do over again that which has been done once; and as, in the order of miracle, there can be no question of ease or difficulty, the thaumaturgus would be invited to reproduce his marvelous act under other circumstances, upon other corpses, in another place. If the miracle should succeed each time, two things would be proved: first, that supernatural events happen in the world; second, that the power of producing them belongs or is delegated in certain persons. But who does not see that no miracle ever took place under these conditions? But that always hitherto the thaumaturgus has chosen the subject of the experiment, chosen the spot, chosen the public?"[26] This is an extract from the celebrated "Life of Jesus" by Renan, and is intended to demolish the Gospel account of the miracles of the Christ. It is not too much to say that the great skeptic has failed to exhibit his usual fairness in argument. He has indirectly compared Jesus to a thaumaturgus, and has inferentially stated that in the performance of His miracles He "chose the subject of his experiment, chose the spot, chose the public." Every student of New Testament history knows that this is not true of the facts and circumstances surrounding the performance of miracles by Christ. It is true that vulgar curiosity and caviling incredulity were not gratified by the presence of specially summoned "physiologists, physicists, and chemists." But it is equally true that such persons were not prevented from being present; that there was no attempt at secrecy or concealment; and that no subject of experiment, particular spot, or special audience was ever chosen. The New Testament miracles were wrought, as a general thing, under the open sky, in the street, by the wayside, on the mountain slope, and in the presence of many people, both friends and enemies of Jesus. There was no searching or advertising for subjects for experiment. Far from choosing the subject, the spot, and the public, Jesus exercised His miraculous powers upon those who came voluntarily to Him suffering with some dreadful malady and asking to be cured. In some instances, the case of affliction was of long standing and well known to the community. The healing was done publicly and witnessed by many people. Renan suggests that the thaumaturgus mentioned in his illustration would be required to repeat his performance in the matter of raising the dead before he would be fully believed. This reminds us that Jesus wrought many miracles. More than forty are recorded in the Gospel narratives; and in the closing verse of St. John, there is a strong intimation that He performed many that were never recorded. These, it is respectfully submitted, were amply sufficient to demonstrate His miraculous powers. Whatever form infidelity may assume in its antagonism to the doctrine of miracles, it will be found that the central idea is that such things are not founded in experience; and that this test of credibility fails in the case of the Gospel writers, because they knowingly recorded impossible events. It would be idle to attempt to depreciate the value of this particular test; but it must be observed that nothing is more fallacious, unless properly defined and limited. It must be remembered that the experience of one man, nation, or generation is not necessarily that of another man, nation, or generation. The exact mechanical processes employed by the Egyptians in raising the pyramids are as much a mystery to modern scientists as a Marconigram would be to a savage of New Guinea. The Orient and the Occident present to each other almost miraculous forms of diversity in manners, habits, and customs, in modes of thought and life. "The Frenchman says, 'I am the best dyer in Europe: nobody can equal me, and nobody can surpass Lyons.' Yet in Cashmere, where the girls make shawls worth $30,000, they will show him three hundred distinct colors, which he not only cannot make, but cannot even distinguish." Sir Walter Scott, in his "Tales of the Crusaders," thrillingly describes a meeting between the Turkish Saladin and the English Richard Coeur-de-Lion. Saladin asked Richard to give him an exhibition of his marvelous strength. The Norman monarch picked up an iron bar from the floor of the tent and severed it. The Mahometan crusader was amazed. Richard then asked him what he could do. Saladin replied that he could not pull iron apart like that, but that he could do something equally as wonderful. Thereupon, he took an eider-down pillow from the sofa, and drew his keen, Damascus-tempered blade across it, which caused it to fall into two pieces. Richard cried in astonishment: "This is the black art; it is magic; it is the devil: you cannot cut that which has no resistance!" Here Occidental strength and Oriental magic met and wrought seeming miracles in the presence of each other. In his great lecture on "The Lost Arts," Wendell Phillips says that one George Thompson told him that he saw a man in Calcutta throw a handful of floss silk into the air, and that a Hindoo severed it into pieces with his saber. A Western swordsman could not do this. Objectors to miracles frequently ask why they are not performed to-day, why we never see them. To which reply may be made that, under Spinoza's definition, miracles are being wrought every day not only by nature, but by man. Why call Edison "the magician" and "the wizard," unless the public believes this? But is it any argument against the miracles of Jesus that similar ones are not seen to-day? Have things not been done in the past that will never be repeated? We have referred to the pyramids of Egypt and to the lost art involved in their construction. A further illustration may be found in the origin of man. One of two theories is undoubtedly true: that the first man and woman came into the world without being born; or that man and woman are the products of evolution from lower orders of animals. No other theories have ever been advanced as to the origin of the human race. Now, it is certain that modern generations have never experienced either of these things, for all the human beings of to-day were undoubtedly born of other human beings, and it is certain that the process of evolution stopped long ago, since men and women were as perfect physically and mentally four thousand years ago as they are to-day. In other words, the processes which originated man are things of the past, since we have no Garden of Eden experiences to-day, nor is there any universal metamorphosis of monkeys going on. Therefore, to argue that the miracles of Jesus did not happen, because we do not see such things to-day, is to deny the undoubted occurrences of history and developments of human life, because such occurrences and developments are no longer familiar to us and our generation. To denounce everything as false that we have not individually seen, heard, and felt, would be to limit most painfully the range of the mental vision. The intellectual horizon would not be greatly extended should we join with our own the experience of others that we have seen and known. Much information is reported by telegraphic despatch and many things are told us by travelers that we should accept as true; although such matters may have no relation to what we have ever seen or heard. Else, we should be as foolish as the king of Siam who rejected the story of the Dutch ambassador, that in Holland water was frequently frozen into a solid mass. In the warm climate of the East Indian tropics the king had never seen water so congealed and, therefore, he refused to believe that such a thing had ever happened anywhere. Experience is a most logical and reasonable test if it is sufficiently extended to touch all the material phases of the subject under investigation. It is a most dangerous one if we insist upon judging the material and spiritual universe, with its infinite variety of forms and changes, by the limited experience of a simple and isolated life, or by the particular standards of any one age or race. A progressive civilization, under such an application of the test, would be impossible, since each generation of men would have to begin _de novo_, and be restricted to the results of its own experience. The enforcement of such a doctrine would prevent, furthermore, the acceptance of the truths of nature discovered by inventive genius or developed by physical or chemical research, until such truths had become matters of universal experience. Every man would then be in the position of the incredulous citizen who, having been told that a message had been sent by wire from Baltimore to Washington announcing the nomination of James K. Polk for the presidency, refused to believe in telegraphic messages until he could be at both ends of the line at once. The art of telegraphy was a reality, nevertheless, in spite of his incredulity and inexperience. The American savages who first beheld the ships of Columbus are said to have regarded them as huge birds from heaven and to have refused to believe that they were boats, because, in their experience, they had never seen such immense canoes with wings. Herodotus tells us of some daring sailors who crept along the coast of Africa beyond the limits usually visited at that time. They came back home with a wonderful account of their trip and told the story that they had actually reached a country where their shadows fell toward the south at midday. They were not believed, and their report was rejected with scorn and incredulity by the inhabitants of the Mediterranean coasts, because their only experience was that a man's shadow always pointed toward the north; and they did not believe it possible that shadows could be cast otherwise. But the report of the sailors was true, nevertheless.[27] These simple illustrations teach us that beings other than ourselves have had experiences which are not only different from any that we have ever had, but are also either temporarily or permanently beyond our comprehension. And the moral of this truth, when applied to the statements of the Evangelists regarding miracles, is that the fortunate subjects and witnesses of the miraculous powers of Jesus might have had experiences which we have never had and that we cannot now clearly comprehend. (5) In the fifth and last place, as to the _coincidence of their testimony with collateral circumstances_. This is the chief test of credibility in all those cases where the witness, whose testimony has been reduced to writing, is dead, absent, or insane. Under such circumstances it is impossible to apply what may be termed personal tests on cross-examination; that is, to develop the impeaching or corroborating features of bias, prejudice, and personal demeanor to the same extent as when the witness is still living and testifies orally. When a written narrative is all that we have, its reliability can only be ascertained by a close inspection of its parts, comparing them with each other, and then with collateral and contemporaneous facts and circumstances. The value of this test cannot be over-estimated, and Greenleaf has stated very fully and concisely the basis upon which it rests. "Every event," he says, "which actually transpires, has its appropriate relation and place in the vast complication of circumstances of which the affairs of men consist; it owes its origin to the events which have preceded it, is intimately connected with all others which occur at the same time and place, and often with those of remote regions, and in its turn gives birth to numberless others which succeed. In all this almost inconceivable contexture and seeming discord, there is perfect harmony; and while the fact which really happened tallies exactly with every other contemporaneous incident related to it in the remotest degree, it is not possible for the wit of man to invent a story, which, if closely compared with the actual occurrences of the same time and place, may not be shown to be false."[28] [Illustration: ST. JOHN AND ST. PETER (DÜRER)] This principle offers a wide field to the skill of the cross-examiner, and enables him frequently to elicit truth or establish falsehood when all other tests have failed. It is a principle also perfectly well known to the perjurer and to the suborner of witnesses. Multiplicity of details is studiously avoided by the false witness, who dreads particularity and feels that safety lies in confining his testimony as nearly as possible to a single fact, whose attendant facts and circumstances are few and simple. When the witness is too ignorant to understand the principle and appreciate the danger, his attorney, if he consents to dishonor his profession and pollute the waters of justice with corrupt testimony, may be depended upon to administer proper warning. The witness will be told to know as few things and to remember as little as possible concerning matters about which he has not been previously instructed. The result will be that his testimony, especially in matters in which he is compelled by the court to testify, will be hesitating, restrained, unequal, and unnatural. He will be served at every turn by a most convenient memory which will enable him to forget many important and to remember many unimportant facts and circumstances. He will betray a painful hesitancy in the matter of committing himself upon any particular point upon which he has not been already drilled. The truthful witness, on the other hand, is usually candid, ingenuous, and copious in his statements. He shows a willingness to answer all questions, even those involving the minutest details, and seems totally indifferent to the question of verification or contradiction. The texture of his testimony is, therefore, equal, natural, and unrestrained. Now these latter characteristics mark every page of the New Testament histories. The Gospel writers wrote with the utmost freedom, and recorded in detail and with the utmost particularity, the manners, customs, habits, and historic facts contemporaneous with their lives. The naturalness and ingenuousness of their writings are simply marvelous. There is nowhere any evidence of an attempt to conceal, patch up, or reconcile. No introductory exclamations or subsequent explanations which usually characterize false testimony appear anywhere in their writings. They were seemingly absolutely indifferent to whether they were believed or not. Their narratives seem to say: These are records of truth; and if the world rejects them it rejects the facts of history. Such candor and assurance are always overwhelmingly impressive; and in every forum of debate are regarded as unmistakable signs of truth. The Evangelists, it must be assumed, were fully aware of the danger of too great particularity in the matter of false testimony, and would have hesitated to commit themselves on so many points if their statements had been untrue. We have already noted the opinion of Professor Holtzmann, of Heidelberg, that the Synoptic Gospels were committed to writing between the years 60 and 80 of our era. At that time it is certain that there were still living many persons who were familiar with the events in the life and teachings of the Savior, as well as with the numerous other facts and circumstances related by the sacred writers. St. Paul, in I Cor. xv. 6, speaks of five hundred brethren to whom the risen Jesus appeared at one time; and he adds, "_of whom the greater part remain unto this present, but some are fallen asleep_." And it must be remembered that this particular group of two hundred and fifty or more were certainly not the only persons then living who had a distinct remembrance of the Master, His teachings, and His miracles. Many who had been healed by Him, children who had sat upon His knee and been blessed by Him, and many members of the Pharisaic party and of the Sadducean aristocracy who had persecuted Him and had then slain Him, were doubtless still living and had a lively recollection of the events of the ministry of the Nazarene. Such persons were in a position to disprove from their personal knowledge false statements made by the Evangelists. A consciousness of this fact would have been, within itself, a strong inducement to tell the truth. But not only are the Gospels not contradicted by contemporaneous writers; they are also not impeached or disproved by later scientific research and historical investigation. And at this point we come to make a direct application of the test of the coincidence of their testimony with collateral and contemporaneous history. For this purpose, as a matter of illustration, only facts in profane history corroborative of the circumstances attending the trial and crucifixion of the Master will be cited. In the first place, the Evangelists tell us that Pontius Pilate sat in judgment on the Christ. Both Josephus and Tacitus tell us that Pilate was governor of Judea at that time.[29] In John xviii. 31 we read: "Then said Pilate unto them, Take ye him, and judge him according to your law. The Jews therefore said unto him, _It is not lawful for us to put any man to death._" From many profane historians, ancient and modern, we learn that the power of life and death had been taken from the Jews and vested in the Roman governor.[30] In John xix. 16, 17 occurs this passage: "And they took Jesus, and led him away; and he, _bearing his cross_, went forth." This corroborative sentence is found in Plutarch: "Every kind of wickedness produces its own particular torment; just as every malefactor, when he is brought forth to execution, _carries his own cross_."[31] In Matthew xxvii. 26 we read: "When he had scourged Jesus, he delivered him to be crucified." That scourging was a preliminary to crucifixion among the Romans is attested by many ancient writers, among whom may be mentioned Josephus and Livy. The following passages are taken from Josephus: Whom, having _first scourged with whips_, he crucified.[32] Being _beaten_, they were crucified opposite to the citadel.[33] He was burned alive, _having been first beaten_.[34] From Livy, a single sentence will suffice: All were led out, _beaten with rods_, and beheaded.[35] In John xix. 19, 20 we read: "And Pilate wrote a title and put it on the cross; and it was written in Hebrew, and Greek, and Latin." That it was a custom among the Romans to affix the accusation against the criminal to the instrument of his punishment appears from several ancient writers, among them Suetonius and Dion Cassius. In Suetonius occurs this sentence: "He exposed the father of the family to the dogs, with this _title_, 'A gladiator, impious in speech.'"[36] And in Dion Cassius occurs the following: "Having led him through the midst of the court or assembly, _with a writing signifying the cause of his death, and afterwards crucifying him_."[37] And finally, we read in John xix. 32: "Then came the soldiers and _brake the legs_ of the first, and of the other which was crucified with him." By an edict of Constantine, the punishment of crucifixion was abolished. Speaking in commendation of this edict, a celebrated heathen writer mentions the circumstances of _breaking the legs_. "He was pious to such a degree," says this writer, "that he was the first to set aside that very ancient punishment, the cross, with the _breaking of legs_."[38] If we leave the narrow circle of facts attendant upon the trial and crucifixion of Jesus with its corroborative features of contemporary history, and consider the Gospel narratives as a whole, we shall find that they are confirmed and corroborated by the facts and teachings of universal history and experience. An examination of these narratives will also reveal a divine element in them which furnishes conclusive proof of their truthfulness and reliability. A discussion of the divine or spiritual element in the Gospel histories would be foreign to the purpose of this treatise. The closing pages of Part I will be devoted to a consideration of the human element in the New Testament narratives. This will be nothing more than an elaboration of the fifth legal test of credibility mentioned by Starkie. By the human or historical element of credibility in the Gospel histories is meant that likeness or resemblance in matters of representation of fact to other matters of representation of fact which we find recorded in secular histories of standard authority whose statements we are accustomed to accept as true. The relations of historic facts to each other, and the connections and coincidences of things known or believed to be true with still others sought to be proved, form a fundamental ground of belief, and are, therefore, reliable modes of proof. The most casual perusal of the New Testament narratives suggests certain striking resemblances between the events therein narrated and well-known historical occurrences related by secular historians whose statements are implicitly believed. Let us draw a few parallels and call attention to a few of these resemblances. Describing the anguish of the Savior in the Garden, St. Luke says: "And being in an agony, He prayed more earnestly: And his sweat was as it were great drops of blood falling down to the ground."[39] This strange phenomenon of the "bloody sweat" has been of such rare occurrence in the history of the world that its happening in Gethsemane has been frequently denied. The account of it has been ascribed to the overwrought imagination of the third Evangelist in recording the errors of tradition. And yet similar cases are well authenticated in the works of secular writers. Tissot reports a case of "a sailor who was so alarmed by a storm, that through fear he fell down, and his face sweated blood which, during the whole continuance of the storm, returned like ordinary sweat, as fast as it was wiped away."[40] Schenck cites the case of "a nun who fell into the hands of soldiers; and, on seeing herself encompassed with swords and daggers threatening instant death, was so terrified and agitated that she discharged blood from every part of her body, and died of hemorrhage in the sight of her assailants."[41] Writing of the death of Charles IX of France, Voltaire says: "The disease which carried him off is very uncommon; his blood flowed from all his pores. This malady, of which there are some examples, is the result either of excessive fear, furious passion, or of a violent and melancholic temperament."[42] The same event is thus graphically described by the old French historian, De Mezeray: "After the vigor of his youth and the energy of his courage had long struggled against his disease, he was at length reduced by it to his bed at the castle of Vincennes, about the 8th of May, 1574. During the last two weeks of his life his constitution made strange efforts. He was affected with spasms and convulsions of extreme violence. He tossed and agitated himself continually and his blood gushed from all the outlets of his body, even from the pores of his skin, so that on one occasion he was found bathed in a bloody sweat."[43] If the sailor, the nun, and the king of France were afflicted with the "bloody sweat," why should it seem incredible that the man Jesus, the carpenter of Nazareth, should have been similarly afflicted? If Tissot, Schenck, and Voltaire are to be believed, why should we refuse to believe St. Luke? If St. Luke told the truth in this regard, why should we doubt his statements concerning other matters relating to the life, death, and resurrection of the Son of God? Does not Voltaire, the most brilliant and powerful skeptic that ever lived, corroborate in this particular the biographer of the Christ? Let us pass to another instance of resemblance and corroboration. While describing the crucifixion, St. John wrote the following: "But one of the soldiers with a spear pierced his side, and forthwith came there out _blood and water_."[44] Early skeptical criticism denied the account of the flowing of blood and water from the side of the Savior because, in the first place, the other Evangelists did not mention the circumstance; and, in the second place, it was an unscientific fact stated. But modern medical science has very cleverly demonstrated that Jesus, according to the Gospel accounts, died of rupture of the heart. About the middle of the last century, a celebrated English physician and surgeon, Dr. Stroud, wrote a treatise entitled, "Physical Cause of the Death of Christ." In this book, he proved very clearly that cardiac rupture was the immediate cause of the death of Jesus on the cross. Many arguments were adduced to establish this fact. Among others, it was urged that the shortness of time during which the sufferer remained upon the cross and His loud cry just before "He gave up the ghost," tended to prove that a broken heart was the cause of the death of the Man of Sorrows. But the strongest proof, according to the author of this work, was the fact that blood and water flowed from the dead man when a spear was thrust into His side. This, says Dr. Stroud, has happened frequently when the heart was suddenly and violently perforated after death from cardiac rupture. Within a few hours after death from this cause, he says, the blood frequently separates into its constituent parts or essential elements: _crassamentum_, a soft clotted substance of deep-red color, and _serum_, a pale, watery liquid--popularly called blood and water, which will flow out separately, if the pericardium and heart be violently torn or punctured. In this treatise numerous medical authorities are cited and the finished work is indorsed by several of the most famous physicians and surgeons of England. It is very probable that St. John did not know the physical cause of the strange flow of blood and water from the side of Jesus. It seems that he was afraid that he would not be believed; for, in the following verse, he was careful to tell the world that he himself had personally seen it. "And he that _saw it_ bare record, and his record is true: And he knoweth that he saith true that ye might believe."[45] Here again modern medical science has corroborated, in the matter of the flowing of blood and water from the side of Jesus, the simple narrative of the gentle and loving Evangelist. Still another illustration of resemblance, coincidence, and corroboration is furnished by the incident of the arrest of Jesus in the Garden. St. John says: "As soon, then, as he had said unto them, I am he, they went backward and fell to the ground."[46] This is only one of several cases mentioned in history where ordinary men have been dazed and paralyzed in the presence of illustrious men against whom they were designing evil. When a Gallic trooper was sent by Sulla to Minturnæ to put Marius to death, the old Roman lion, his great eyes flashing fire, arose and advanced toward the slave, who fled in utter terror from the place, exclaiming, "I cannot kill Caius Marius!"[47] Again, we learn from St. Matthew that at the moment of the arrest in the Garden, "all the disciples forsook him and fled." This is no isolated case of cowardice and desertion. It is merely an illustration of a universal truth: that the multitude will follow blindly and adore insanely the hero or prophet in his hour of triumph and coronation, but will desert and destroy him at the moment of his humiliation and crucifixion. Note the burning of Savonarola. The patriot-priest of the Florentine Republic believed himself inspired of God; his heroic life and martyr death seemed to justify his claim. From the pulpit of St. Mark's he became the herald and evangel of the Reformation, and his devoted followers hung upon his words as if inspiration clothed them with messages from the skies. And yet when a wicked Inquisition had nailed him to the cross and fagots were flaming about him, this same multitude who adored him, now reviled him and jeered and mocked his martyrdom. Note the career of Napoleon. When the sun of Austerlitz rose upon the world the whole French nation grew delirious with love and homage for their emperor, who was once a subaltern of Corsica. But when the Allies entered Paris after the battle of Leipsic, this same French nation repudiated their imperial idol, cast down his images, canceled his decrees, and united with all Europe in demanding his eternal banishment from France. The voyage to Elba followed. But the historic melodrama of popular fidelity and fickleness was not yet completely played. When this same Napoleon, a few months later, escaped from his islet prison in the Mediterranean and landed on the shores of France, this same French nation again grew delirious, welcomed the royal exile with open arms, showered him with his eagles, and almost smothered him with kisses. A hundred days passed. On the frightful field of Waterloo, "Chance and Fate combined to wreck the fortunes of their former king." Again the fickle French multitude heaped execrations upon their fallen monarch, declared the Napoleonic dynasty at an end and welcomed with acclamations of joy the return of the exiled Bourbon Louis XVIII. And when the Evangelist wrote these words: "All the disciples forsook him and fled," he simply gave expression to a form of truth which all history reflects and corroborates. Again, the parallels and resemblances of sacred and profane history do not seem to stop with mere narratives of facts. Secular history seems to have produced at times characters in the exact likeness of those in sacred history. The resemblance is often so striking as to create astonishment. For instance, who was St. Peter but Marshal Ney by anticipation? Peter was the leader of the Apostolic Twelve; Ney was the chief of the Twelve Marshals of Napoleon. Peter was impulsive and impetuous; so was Ney. Peter was the first to speak and act in all the emergencies of the Apostolic ministry; Ney, so Dumas tells us, was always impatient to open the battle and lead the first charge. Peter was probably the last to leave the garden in which the great tragedy of his Master had begun; Ney was the last to leave the horrors of a Russian winter in which the beginning of the end of the career of his monarch was plainly seen. Peter denied Jesus; Ney repudiated Napoleon, and even offered to bring him, at the time of his escape from Elba, in a cage to Louis XVIII. Peter was afterwards crucified for his devotion to Jesus whom he had denied; Ney was afterwards shot for loyalty to Napoleon whom he had once repudiated. The examples heretofore given involve the idea of comparison and are based upon resemblance. These illustrations could be greatly extended, but it is believed that enough has been said in this connection. However, in closing this brief discussion of the human element in the sacred writings as evidenced by the coincidences and resemblances of their narratives to those of profane history, slight mention may be made of another test of truth which may be applied to the histories of the Evangelists. This test is not derived from a comparison which is focused upon any particular group of historic facts. It springs from an instantaneously recognized and inseparable connection between the statements made by the Gospel writers and the experience of the human race. A single illustration will suffice to elucidate this point. When Jesus was nailed upon the cross, the sad and pathetic spectacle was presented of the absence of the Apostolic band, with the exception of St. John, who was the only Apostle present at the crucifixion. The male members of the following of the Nazarene did not sustain and soothe their Master in the supreme moment of His anguish. But the women of His company were with Him to the end. Mary, his mother, Mary Magdalene, Mary, the wife of Cleophas, Salome, the mother of St. John the Evangelist, and others, doubtless among "the women that followed him from Galilee," ministered to His sufferings and consoled Him with their presence. They were the last to cling to His cross and the first to greet Him on the morning of the third day; for when the resurrection morn dawned upon the world, these same women were seen hastening toward the sepulcher bearing spices--fragrant offerings of deathless love. What a contrast between the loyalty and devotion of the women and the fickle, faltering adherence of the men who attended the footsteps of the Man of Sorrows in His last days! One of His Apostles denied Him, another betrayed Him, and all, excepting one, deserted Him in His death struggle. His countrymen crucified Him ignominiously. But "not one woman mentioned in the New Testament ever lifted her voice against the Son of God." This revelation from the sacred pages of the devotion of woman is reflected in universal history and experience. It is needless to give examples. Suffice it to say that when Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John tell us of this devotion, we simply answer: yes, this has been ever true in all countries and in every age. We have learned it not only from history but from our own experience in all the affairs of life, extending from the cradle to the grave. The night of sorrow never grows so dark that a mother's love will not irradiate the gloom. The criminal guilt of a wayward son can never become so black that her arms will not be found about him. If we pass from loving loyalty to the individual, to patriotic devotion to the causes of the nations, woman's fidelity is still undying. The women of France are said to have paid the German war debt. The message of the Spartan mother to her soldier son is too well known to be repeated. When the legions of Scipio engirdled the walls of Carthage and desperation seized the inhabitants of the Punic city, Carthaginian women cut their long black hair to furnish bowstrings to the Carthaginian archers. Illustrations might be multiplied; but these will suffice to show that Mary and Martha and Salome, the women of the Gospels, are simply types of the consecrated women of the world. When we come to summarize, we are led to declare that if the Gospel historians be not worthy of belief we are without foundation for rational faith in the secular annals of the human race. No other literature bears historic scrutiny so well as the New Testament biographies. Not by a single chain, but by three great chains can we link our Bible of to-day with the Apostolic Bible. The great manuscripts: the Vatican, the Alexandrian, and the Sinaitic, dating from the middle of the fourth and fifth centuries, must have been copies of originals, or at least of first copies. The Bible is complete in these manuscripts to-day. The Versions, translations of the original Scriptures from the language in which they were first written into other languages, form a perfect connection between the days of the Apostles and our own. The Vulgate, the celebrated Latin version of St. Jerome, was completed A.D. 385. In making this translation the great scholar has himself said that he used "ancient (Greek) copies." Manuscripts that were ancient, A.D. 385, must have been the original writings, or, at least, first copies. The Vulgate, then, is alone a perfect historic connection between the Bible that we read to-day and that studied by the first Christians. Again, the Writings of the Church Fathers furnish a chain, without a single missing link, between the Bible of this generation and that of the first generation of the followers of the Christ. It has been truthfully said that if all the Bibles in the world were destroyed an almost perfect Bible could be reconstructed from quotations from these writings, so numerous and so exact are they. Beginning with Barnabas and Clement, companions of St. Paul, and coming down through the ages, there is not a single generation in which some prince or potentate of the Church has not left convincing evidence in writing that the Books of the Old and New Testament which we read to-day are identical with those read by the first propagators of our faith. The chain of proof forged from the Writings of the early Fathers is made up of a hundred links, each perfect within itself and yet relinked and welded with a hundred others that make each and all doubly strong. If these various testimonies, the Manuscripts, the Versions, and the Writings of the Church Fathers, be taken, not singly, but collectively, in support and corroboration of each other, we have, then, not merely a chain but rather a huge spiritual cable of many wires, stretching across the great sea of time and linking our Bible of to-day inseparably with that of the Apostolic Age. If it be objected that these various writings might have been and probably were corrupted in coming down to us through the centuries, reply may be made that the facts of history repel such suggestions. As Mr. Greenleaf has suggested, the jealousy of opposing sects preserved them from forgery and mutilation. Besides these sects, it may be added, there were, even in the earliest times, open and avowed infidels who assaulted the cardinal tenets of the Christian faith and made the Gospel histories the targets for their attacks. They, too, would have detected and denounced any attempt from any source to corrupt these writings. Another and final, and probably the most cogent reason for the remarkable preservation of the books of the Bible, is the reverential care bestowed upon them by their custodians in every age. It is difficult for the modern world to fully appreciate the meaning and extent of this reverence and care. Before the age of printing, it must be remembered, the masses of the people could not and did not possess Bibles. In the Middle Ages it required a small fortune to own a single copy. The extreme scarcity enhanced not only the commercial value but added to the awful sanctity that attached to the precious volume; on the principle that the person of a king becomes more sacred and mysterious when least seen in public. Synagogues and monasteries were, for many centuries, the sole repositories of the Holy Books, and the deliberate mutilation of any portion of the Bible would have been regarded like the blaspheming of the Deity or the desecration of a shrine. These considerations alone are sufficient reason why the Holy Scriptures have come down to us uncorrupted and unimpaired. These various considerations are the logical basis of that rule of law laid down by Mr. Greenleaf, under which the Gospel histories would be admitted into a modern court of law in a modern judicial proceeding. Under legal tests laid down by Starkie, we have seen that the Evangelists should be believed, because: (1) They were honest and sincere, that is, they believed that they were telling the truth; (2) they were undoubtedly men of good intelligence and were eyewitnesses of the facts narrated by them in the New Testament histories; (3) they were independent historians, who wrote at different times and places and, in all essential details, fully corroborate each other; (4) excepting in the matter of miracles, which skepticism has never been able to fully disprove, their testimony is in full conformity with human experience; (5) their testimony coincides fully and accurately with all the collateral, social, historical, and religious circumstances of their time, as well as with the teachings and experience of universal history in every age. Having received from antiquity an uncorrupted message, born of truth, we have, it is believed, a perfect record of fact with which to discuss the trial of Jesus. PART II _HEBREW CRIMINAL LAW_ [Illustration: MOSES AND THE LAW (MICHAEL ANGELO)] CHAPTER I HEBREW CRIMINAL LAW--MOSAIC AND TALMUDIC The Pentateuch and the Talmud form the double basis of Hebrew jurisprudence. "The wisdom of the lawgiver," says Bacon, "consists not only in a platform of justice, but in the application thereof." The Mosaic Code, embodied in the Pentateuch, furnished to the children of Israel the necessary platform of justice; ancient tradition and Rabbinic interpretation contained in the Talmud, supplied needed rules of practical application. Employing classic terminology, it may be said that the ordinances of Moses were the substantive and the provisions of the Talmud were the adjective laws of the ancient Hebrews. These terms are not strictly accurate, however, since many absolute rights are declared and defined in the Talmud as well as in the Pentateuch. Another definition, following the classification of Roman legists, describes Mosaic injunction as the _lex scripta_ and Talmudic provision as the _lex non scripta_ of the Commonwealth of Israel. In other words, the Pentateuch was the foundation, the cornerstone; the Talmud was the superstructure, the gilded dome of the great temple of Hebrew justice. Bible students throughout the world are familiar with the provisions of the Mosaic Code; but the contents of the Talmud are known to few, even among scholars and literary men. The most appalling ignorance has existed in every age among the Gentile uninitiated as to the nature and identity of this gigantic literary compilation. Henricus Segnensis, a pious monk of the Middle Ages, having heard and read many things about the despised heretical Talmud, conceived it to be a person and, in a transport of religious frenzy, declared that he would sooner or later have _him, the Talmud_, put to death by the hangman![48] For the benefit of the average reader as well as to illuminate the general subject, a short description of the Talmud will be given. _Definition._--Many attempts have been made to define the Talmud, but all definition of this monumental literary production is necessarily inaccurate and incomplete because of the vastness and peculiarity of the matter treated. To describe it as an encyclopedia of the life and literature, law and religion, art and science of the Hebrew people during a thousand years would convey only an approximately correct idea of its true meaning, for it is even more than the foregoing descriptive terms would indicate. Emanuel Deutsch in his brilliant essay on the Talmud defines it as "a Corpus Juris, an encyclopedia of law, civil and penal, ecclesiastical and international, human and divine. It is a microcosm, embracing, even as does the Bible, heaven and earth. It is as if all the prose and poetry, the science, the faith and speculation of the Old World were, though only in faint reflections, bound up in it _in nuce_." Benny describes it as "the Talmud--that much maligned and even more misunderstood compilation of the rabbins; that digest of what Carlyle would term _allerlei-wissenschaften_; which is at once the compendium of their literature, the storehouse of their tradition, the exponent of their faith, the record of their acquirements, the handbook of their ceremonials and the summary of their legal code, civil and penal." To speak of the Talmud as a book would be inaccurate. It is a small library, or collection of books. "Modern editions of the Talmud, including the most important commentaries, consist of about 3,000 folio sheets, or 12,000 folio pages of closely printed matter, generally divided into twelve or twenty volumes. One page of Talmudic Hebrew intelligibly translated into English would cover three pages; the translation of the whole Talmud with its commentaries would accordingly make a library of 400 volumes, each numbering 360 octavo pages."[49] It would be well to bear in mind that the contents of the Talmud were not proclaimed to the world by any executive, legislative, or judicial body; that they were not the result of any resolution or mandate of any congregation, college, or Sanhedrin; that they were not, in any case, formal or statutory. They were simply a great mass of traditionary matter and commentary transmitted orally through many centuries before being finally reduced to writing. Rabbinism claims for these traditions a remote antiquity, declaring them to be coeval with the proclamation of the Decalogue. Many learned doctors among the Jews ascribe this antiquity to the whole mass of traditional laws. Others maintain that only the principles upon which Rabbinic interpretation and discussion are based, can be traced back so far. But it is certain that distinct traditions are to be found at a very early period in the history of the children of Israel, and that on their return from Babylonian captivity these traditions were delivered to them by Ezra and his coadjutors of the Great Assembly. This development of Hebrew jurisprudence along lines of written and oral law, Pentateuch and Talmud, Mosaic ordinance and time-honored tradition, seems to have followed in obedience to a general principle of juristic growth. _Lex scripta_ and _lex non scripta_ are classical Roman terms of universal application in systems of enlightened jurisprudence. A charter, a parchment, a marble column, a table of stone, a sacred book, containing written maxims defining legal rights and wrongs are the beginnings of all civilized schemes of justice. Around these written, fundamental laws grow and cluster the race traditions of a people which attach themselves to and become inseparable from the prime organic structure. These oral traditions are the natural and necessary products of a nation's growth and progress. The laws of the Medes and Persians, at once unalterable and irrevocable, represent a strange and painful anomaly in the jurisprudence of mankind. No written constitution, incapable of amendment and subject to strict construction, can long survive the growth and expansion of a great and progressive people. The ever-changing, perpetually evolving forms of social, commercial, political, and religious life of a restless, marching, ambitious race, necessitate corresponding changes and evolutions in laws and constitutions. These necessary legal supplements are as varied in origin as are the nations that produce them. Magna Charta, wrung from John at Runnymede, became the written basis of English law and freedom, and around it grew up those customs and traditions that--born on the shores of the German Ocean, transplanted to the Isles of Britain, nurtured and developed through a thousand years of judicial interpretation and application--became the great basic structure of the Common Law of England. What the Mosaic Code was to the ancient Hebrews, what Magna Charta is to Englishmen, the Koran is to Mahometans: the written charter of their faith and law. Surrounding the Koran are many volumes of tradition, made up of the sayings of Mahomet, which are regarded as equally sacred and authoritative as the Koran itself. These volumes of Mahometan tradition are called the Sonna and correspond to the Talmud of the Hebrews. An analysis of any great system of jurisprudence will reveal the same natural arrangement of written and oral law as that represented by the Pentateuch and the Talmud of the Jews. The word "Talmud" has various meanings, as it appears in Hebrew traditional literature. It is an old scholastic term, and "is a noun formed from the verb 'limmed'='to teach.' It therefore means, primarily, 'teaching,' although it denotes also 'learning'; it is employed in this latter sense with special reference to the Torah, the terms 'Talmud' and 'Torah' being usually combined to indicate the study of the Law, both in its wider and its more restricted sense."[50] It is thus frequently used in the sense of the word "exegesis," meaning Biblical exposition or interpretation. But with the etymological and restricted, we are not so much interested as with the popular and general signification of the term "Talmud." Popularly used, it means simply a small collection of books represented by two distinct editions handed down to posterity by the Palestinian and Babylonian schools during the early centuries of the Christian era. _Divisions of the Talmud._--The Talmud is divided into two component parts: the Mishna, which may be described as the _text_; and the Gemara, which may be termed the _commentary_.[51] The Mishna, meaning tradition, is almost wholly law. It was, indeed, of old, translated as the Second or Oral Law--the [Greek: deuterôsis]--to distinguish it from the Written Law delivered by God to Moses. The relationship between the Mishna, meaning oral law, and the Gemara, meaning commentary, may be illustrated by a bill introduced into Congress and the debates which follow. In a general way, the bill corresponds to the Mishna, and the debates to the Gemara. The distinction, however, is that the law resulting from the passage of the bill is the effect and culmination of the debate; while the Mishna was already law when the Gemara or commentary was made. As we have seen above, Hebrew jurisprudence in its principles and in the manner of their interpretation was chiefly transmitted by the living voice of tradition. These laws were easily and safely handed down from father to son through successive generations as long as Jewish nationality continued and the Temple at Jerusalem still stood. But, with the destruction of the Temple and the banishment of the Jews from Palestine (A.D. 70), the danger became imminent that in the loss of their nationality would also be buried the remembrance of their laws. Moved with pity and compassion for the sad condition of his people, Judah the Holy, called Rabbi for preëminence, resolved to collect and perpetuate for them in writing their time-honored traditions. His work received the name Mishna, the same which we have discussed above. But it must not be imagined that this work was the sudden or exclusive effort of Rabbi Judah. His achievement was merely the sum total and culmination of the labors of a long line of celebrated Hebrew sages. "The Oral Law had been recognized by Ezra; had become important in the days of the Maccabees; had been supported by Pharisaism; narrowed by the school of Shammai, codified by the school of Hillel, systematized by R. Akiba, placed on a logical basis by R. Ishmael, exegetically amplified by R. Eliezer, and constantly enriched by successive rabbis and their schools. Rabbi Judah put the coping-stone to the immense structure."[52] Emanuel Deutsch gives the following subdivisions of the Mishna: The Mishna is divided into six sections. These are subdivided again into 11, 12, 7, 9 (or 10), 11, and 12 chapters, respectively, which are further broken up into 524 paragraphs. We shall briefly describe their contents: Section I. Seeds: of Agrarian Laws, commencing with a chapter on Prayers. In this section, the various tithes and donations due to the Priests, the Levites, and the poor, from the products of the lands, and further the Sabbatical year and the prohibited mixtures in plants, animals, garments, are treated of. Section II. Feasts: of Sabbaths, Feast, and Fast days, the work prohibited, the ceremonies ordained, the sacrifices to be offered, on them. Special chapters are devoted to the Feast of the Exodus from Egypt, to the New Year's Day, to the Day of Atonement (one of the most impressive portions of the whole book), to the Feast of Tabernacles and to that of Haman. Section III. Women: of betrothal, marriage, divorce, etc., also of vows. Section IV. Damages: including a great part of the civil and criminal law. It treats of the law of trover, of buying and selling, and the ordinary monetary transactions. Further, of the greatest crime known to the law, viz., idolatry. Next of witnesses, of oaths, of legal punishments, and of the Sanhedrin itself. This section concludes with the so-called "Sentences of the Fathers," containing some of the sublimest ethical dicta known in the history of religious philosophy. Section V. Sacred Things: of sacrifices, the first-born, etc.; also of the measurements of the Temple (Middoth). Section VI. Purifications: of the various levitical and other hygienic laws, of impure things and persons, their purification, etc.[53] _Recensions._--The Talmud exists in two recensions: the Jerusalem and the Babylonian. These two editions represent a double Gemara; the first (Jerusalem) being an expression of the schools in Palestine and redacted at Tiberias about 390 A.D.; the second (Babylonian) being an expression of the schools in Babylonia and redacted about 365-427 A.D. The Mishna, having been formed into a code, became in its turn what the Pentateuch had been before it, a basis of discussion and development. The Gemara of the Jerusalem Talmud embodies the critical discussions and disquisitions on the Mishna by hundreds of learned doctors who lived in Palestine, chiefly in Galilee, from the end of the second till about the middle of the fifth century of the Christian era. The Gemara of the Babylonian Talmud embodies the criticisms and dissertations on the same Mishna of numerous learned doctors living in various places in Babylonia, but chiefly those of the two great schools of Sura and Pumbaditha.[54] The Babylonian Talmud is written in "West Aramæan," is the product of six or seven generations of constant development, and is about four times as large as that of the Jerusalem Talmud, which is written in "East Aramæan."[55] It should be kept clearly before the mind that the only difference between these two recensions is in the matter of commentary. The two sets of doctors whose different commentaries distinguish the two Talmuds dealt with the same Mishna as a basis of criticism. But decided differences are noticeable in the subject matter and style of the two Gemaras represented by the two recensions of the Talmud. The discussions and commentaries in the Jerusalem Talmud are simple, brief, and pointed; while those of the Babylonian Talmud are generally subtle, abstruse, and prolix. The dissertations in the Jerusalem Talmud are filled to overflowing with archæology, geography, and history, while the Babylonian Talmud is more marked by legal and religious development. But the reader should not form a wrong impression of the contents of the Talmud. They are a blending of the oral law of the Mishna and the notes and comments of the sages. The characteristics of both the editions are legal and religious, but a multitude of references are made in each to things that have no connection with either religion or law. "The Talmud does, indeed, offer us a perfect picture of the cosmopolitanism and luxury of those final days of Rome, such as but few classical or postclassical writings contain. We find mention made of Spanish fish, of Cretan apples, Bithynian cheese, Egyptian lentils and beans, Greek and Egyptian pumpkins, Italian wine, Median beer, Egyptian Zyphus; garments imported from Pelusium and India, shirts from Cilicia, and veils from Arabia. To the Arabic, Persian, and Indian materials contained, in addition to these, in the Gemara, a bare allusion may suffice. So much we venture to predict, that when once archæological and linguistic science shall turn to this field, they will not leave it again soon." _Relation of Talmud to Mishna._--The relation of the Talmud, used in the popular sense, to the Mishna, raises the question of the relation of the whole to one of its parts. The varying meanings of Mishna, Gemara, and Talmud very easily confuse the ordinary reader. If these terms are considered separately in the order in which they appear in the preceding sentence, simple mathematical addition will greatly aid in elucidating matters. The Mishna is a vast mass of tradition or oral law which was finally reduced to writing about the close of the second century of the Christian era. The Gemara is the Rabbinical exposition of the meaning of the Mishna. The Talmud is the sum of the Mishna plus the Gemara. In other words, the Talmud is the elaboration or amplification of the Mishna by manifold commentaries, designated as the Gemara. It frequently happens that the Talmud and the Mishna appear in the same sentence as terms designating entirely different things. This association in a different sense inevitably breeds confusion, unless we pause to consider that the Mishna has a separate existence from the Talmud and a distinct recension of its own. In this state it is simply a naked code of laws. But when the Gemara has been added to it the Talmud is the result, which, in its turn, becomes a distinct entity and may be referred to as such in the same sentence with the Mishna. _Relation of Talmud to Pentateuch._--As before suggested, the Pentateuch, or Mosaic Code, was the Written Law and the very foundation of ancient Hebrew jurisprudence. The Talmud, composed of the Mishna, i.e., Tradition, and the Gemara, i.e., Commentary, was the Oral Law, connected with, derived from, and built upon the Written Law. It must be remembered that the commonwealth of the Jews was a pure theocracy and that all law as well as all religion emanated directly or indirectly from Jehovah. This was as true of Talmudic tradition as of Mosaic ordinance. Hillel, who interpreted tradition, was as much inspired of God as was Moses when he received the Written Law on Sinai. Emanuel Deutsch is of the opinion that from the very beginning of the Mosaic law there must have existed a number of corollary laws which were used to interpret and explain the written rules; that, besides, there were certain enactments of the primitive Council of the Desert, and certain verdicts issued by the later "judges within the gates"--all of which entered into the general body of the Oral Law and were transmitted side by side with the Written Law through the ages.[56] The fourth book of Ezra, as well as other Apocryphal writings, together with Philo and certain of the Church Fathers, tells us of great numbers of books that were given to Moses at the same time that he received the Pentateuch. These writings are doubtless the source of the popular belief among the Jews that the traditional laws of the Mishna had existed from time immemorial and were of divine origin. "Jewish tradition traces the bulk of the oral injunctions, through a chain of distinctly named authorities, to 'Sinai itself.' It mentions in detail how Moses communicated those minutiæ of his legislation, in which he had been instructed during the mysterious forty days and nights on the Mount, to the chosen guides of the people, in such a manner that they should forever remain engraven on the tablets of their hearts."[57] This direct descent of the Oral Law from the Sacred Mount itself would indicate an independent character and authority. Nevertheless, Talmudic interpretation of tradition professed to remain always subject to the Mosaic Code; to be built upon, and to derive its highest inspiration from it. But, as a matter of fact, while claiming theoretically to be subordinate to it, the Talmud finally superseded and virtually displaced the Pentateuch as a legal and administrative code. This was the inevitable consequence and effect of the laws of growth and progress in national existence. Altered conditions of life, at home and in exile, necessitated new rules of action in the government of the Jewish commonwealth. The Mosaic Code was found inadequate to the ever-changing exigencies of Hebrew life. As a matter of fact, Moses laid down only general principles for the guidance of Hebrew judges. He furnished the body of the law, but a system of legal procedure was wholly wanting. The Talmud supplied the deficiency and completed a perfect whole. While yet in the Wilderness, Moses commanded the Israelites to establish courts and appoint judges for the administration of justice as soon as they were settled in Palestine.[58] This clearly indicates that the great lawgiver did not intend his ordinances and injunctions to be final and exclusive. Having furnished a foundation for the scheme, he anticipated that the piety, judgment, and learning of subsequent ages would do the rest. His expectations were fulfilled in the development of the traditions afterwards embodied in the Mishna, which is the principal component part of the Talmud. As before suggested, with the growth in population and the ever-increasing complications in social, political, and religious life, and with the general advance in Hebrew civilization, Mosaic injunction began to prove entirely inadequate to the national wants. In the time intervening between the destruction of the first and second Temples, a number of Mosaic laws had become utter anachronisms; others were perfectly impracticable, and several were no longer even understood. The exigencies of an altered mode of life and the changed conditions and circumstances of the people rendered imperative the enactment of new laws unknown to the Pentateuch. But the divine origin of the Hebrew system of law was never for a moment forgotten, whatever the change and wherever made. The Rabbins never formally repealed or abolished any Mosaic enactment. They simply declared that it had fallen into desuetude. And, in devising new laws rendered necessary by changed conditions of life they invariably invoked some principle or interpretation of the Written Law. In the declining years of Jewish nationality, many characteristic laws of the Pentateuch had become obsolete. The ordinance which determined the punishment of a stubborn and rebellious son; the enactment which commanded the destruction of a city given to idolatry; and, above all, the _lex talionis_ had become purely matters of legend. On the other hand, many new laws appear in the Talmud of which no trace whatever can be discovered in the Pentateuch. "The Pharisees," says Josephus, "have imposed upon the people many laws taken from the tradition of the Fathers, which are not written in the law of Moses."[59] The most significant of these is the one providing for Antecedent Warning in criminal prosecutions, the meaning and purpose of which will be fully discussed in another chapter. _Vicissitudes of the Talmud._--An old Latin adage runs: "Habent sua fata libelli."[60] (Even books are victims of fate). This saying is peculiarly applicable to the Talmud, which has had, in a general way, the same fateful history as the race that created it. Proscription, exile, imprisonment, confiscation, and burning was its lot throughout the Middle Ages. During a thousand years, popes and kings vied with each other in pronouncing edicts and hurling anathemas against it. During the latter half of the sixteenth century it was burned not fewer than six different times by royal or papal decree. Whole wagonloads were consigned to the flames at a single burning. In 1286, in a letter to the Archbishop of Canterbury, Honorius IV described the Talmud as a "damnable book" (liber damnabilis), and vehemently urged that nobody in England be permitted to read it, since "all other evils flow out of it."[61] On New Year's day, 1553, numerous copies of the Talmud were burned at Rome in compliance with a decree of the Inquisition. And, as late as 1757, in Poland, Bishop Dembowski, at the instigation of the Frankists, convened a public assembly at Kamenetz-Podolsk, which decreed that all copies of the Talmud found in the bishopric should be confiscated and burned by the hangman.[62] Of the two recensions, the Babylonian Talmud bore the brunt of persecution during all the ages. This resulted from the fact that the Jerusalem Talmud was little read after the closing of the Jewish academies in Palestine, while the Babylonian Talmud was the popular edition of eminent Jewish scholars throughout the world. It is needless to say that the treatment accorded the venerable literary compilation was due to bitter prejudice and crass ignorance. This is well illustrated by the circumstance that when, in 1307, Clement V was asked to issue a bull against the Talmud, he declined to do so, until he had learned something about it. To his amazement and chagrin, he could find no one who could throw any light upon the subject. Those who wished it condemned and burned were totally ignorant of its meaning and contents. The surprise and disgust of Clement were so great that he resolved to found three chairs in Hebrew, Arabic, and Chaldee, the three tongues nearest the idiom of the Talmud. He designated the Universities of Paris, Salamanca, Bologna, and Oxford as places where these languages should be taught, and expressed the hope that, in time, one of these universities might be able to produce a translation of "this mysterious book."[63] It may be added that these plans of the Pope were never consummated. _The Message and Mission of the Talmud._--To appreciate the message and mission of the Talmud, its contents must be viewed and contemplated in the light of both literature and history. As a literary production it is a masterpiece--strange, weird, and unique--but a masterpiece, nevertheless. It is a sort of spiritual and intellectual cosmos in which the brain growth and soul burst of a great race found expression during a thousand years. As an encyclopedia of faith and scholarship it reveals the noblest thoughts and highest aspirations of a divinely commissioned race. Whatever the master spirits of Judaism in Palestine and Babylon esteemed worthy of thought and devotion was devoted to its pages. It thus became a great twin messenger, with the Bible, of Hebrew civilization to all the races of mankind and to all the centuries yet to come. To Hebrews it is still the great storehouse of information touching the legal, political, and religious traditions of their fathers in many lands and ages. To the Biblical critic of any faith it is an invaluable help to Bible exegesis. And to all the world who care for the sacred and the solemn it is a priceless literary treasure. As an historical factor the Talmud has only remotely affected the great currents of Gentile history. But to Judaism it has been the cementing bond in every time of persecution and threatened dissolution. It was carried from Babylon to Egypt, northern Africa, Spain, Italy, France, Germany, and Poland. And when threatened with national and race destruction, the children of Abraham in every land bowed themselves above its sacred pages and caught therefrom inspiration to renewed life and higher effort. The Hebrews of every age have held the Talmud in extravagant reverence as the greatest sacred heirloom of their race. Their supreme affection for it has placed it above even the Bible. It is an adage with them that, "The Bible is salt, the Mischna pepper, the Gemara balmy spice," and Rabbi Solomon ben Joseph sings: "The Kabbala and Talmud hoar Than all the Prophets prize I more; For water is all Bible lore, But Mischna is pure wine." More than any other human agency has the Talmud been instrumental in creating that strangest of all political phenomena--a nation without a country, a race without a fatherland. CHAPTER II HEBREW CRIMINAL LAW--CRIMES AND PUNISHMENTS Capital crimes, under Hebrew law, were classified by Maimonides according to their respective penalties. His arrangement will be followed in this chapter.[64] Hebrew jurisprudence provided four methods of capital punishment: (1) Beheading; (2) Strangling; (3) Burning; (4) Stoning. Crucifixion was unknown to Hebrew law. This cruel and loathsome form of punishment will be fully discussed in the second volume of this work. Thirty-six capital crimes are mentioned by the Pentateuch and the Talmud. _Beheading_ was the punishment for only two crimes: (1) Murder. (2) Communal apostasy from Judaism to idolatry. _Strangling_ was prescribed for six offenses: (1) Adultery. (2) Kidnaping. (3) False prophecy. (4) Bruising a parent. (5) Prophesying in the name of heathen deities. (6) Maladministration (the "Rebellious Elder"). _Burning_ was the death penalty for ten forms of incest--criminal commerce: (1) With one's own daughter. (2) With one's own son's daughter. (3) With one's own daughter's daughter. (4) With one's own stepdaughter. (5) With one's own stepson's daughter. (6) With one's own stepdaughter's daughter. (7) With one's own mother-in-law. (8) With one's own mother-in-law's mother. (9) With one's own father-in-law's mother. (10) With a priest's daughter.[65] _Stoning_ was the penalty for eighteen capital offenses: (1) Magic. (2) Idolatry. (3) Blasphemy. (4) Pythonism. (5) Pederasty. (6) Necromancy. (7) Cursing a parent. (8) Violating the Sabbath. (9) Bestiality, practiced by a man. (10) Bestiality, practiced by a woman. (11) Sacrificing one's own children to Moloch. (12) Instigating individuals to embrace idolatry. (13) Instigating communities to embrace idolatry. (14) Criminal conversation with one's own mother. (15) Criminal conversation with a betrothed virgin. (16) Criminal conversation with one's own stepmother. (17) Criminal conversation with one's own daughter-in-law. (18) Violation of filial duty (making the "Prodigal Son").[66] The crime of _false swearing_ requires special notice. This offense could not be classified under any of the above subdivisions because of its peculiar nature. The Mosaic Code ordains in Deut. xix. 16-21: "If a false witness rise up against any man to testify against him that which is wrong ... and, behold, if the witness be a false witness, and hath testified falsely against his brother; then shall ye do unto him, as he had thought to have done unto his brother ... and thine eye shall not pity, but life shall go for life, eye for eye, tooth for tooth, hand for hand, foot for foot." Talmudic construction of this law awarded the same kind of death to him who had sworn falsely against his brother that would have been meted out to the alleged criminal, if the testimony of the false swearer had been true. _Imprisonment_, as a method of punishment, was unknown to the Mosaic Code. Leviticus xxiv. 12 and Numbers xv. 34 seem to indicate the contrary; but the imprisonment therein mentioned undoubtedly refers to the mere detention of the prisoner until sentence could be pronounced against him. Imprisonment as a form of punishment was a creation of the Talmudists who legalized its application among the Hebrews. According to Mendelsohn, five different classes of offenders were punished by _imprisonment_: (1) Homicides; whose crime could not be legally punished with death, because some condition or other, necessary to produce a legal conviction, had not been complied with. (2) Instigators to or procurers of murder; such, for instance, as had the deed committed by the hands of a hireling. (3) Accessories to loss of life, as, for instance, when several persons had clubbed one to death, and the court could not determine the one who gave the death blow. (4) Persons who having been twice duly condemned to and punished with flagellation for as many transgressions of one and the same negative precept, committed it a third time. (5) Incorrigible offenders, who, on each of three occasions, had failed to acknowledge as many warnings antecedent to the commission of one and the same crime, the original penalty for which was excision.[67] _Flagellation_ is the only corporal punishment mentioned by the Pentateuch. The number of stripes administered were not to exceed forty and were to be imposed in the presence of the judges.[68] Wherever the Mosaic Code forbade an act, or, in the language of the sages, said "Thou shalt not," and prescribed no other punishment or alternative, a Court of Three might impose stripes as the penalty for wrongdoing. Mendelsohn gives the following classification: Flagellation is the penalty of three classes of offenses: (1) The violation of a negative precept, deadly in the sight of heaven. (2) The violation of any negative precept, when accomplished by means of a positive act. (3) The violation of any one of the prohibitive ordinances punishable, according to the Mosaic law with _excision_, to which, however, no capital punishment at the instance of a human tribunal is attached.[69] The Mishna enumerates fifty offenses punishable by stripes, but this enumeration is evidently incomplete. Maimonides gives a full classification of all the offenses punishable by flagellation, the number of which he estimates to be two hundred and seven. The last three in his list are cases in which the king takes too many wives, accumulates too much silver or gold, or collects too many horses.[70] _Slavery_ was the penalty for _theft_ under ancient Hebrew law. This is the only case where the Mosaic law imposed slavery upon the culprit as a punishment for his crime; and a loss of liberty followed only where the thief was unable to make the prescribed restitution. Exodus xxii. 1-3 says: If a man shall steal an ox, or a sheep, and kill it, or sell it, he shall restore five oxen for an ox, and four sheep for a sheep ... if he have nothing, then he shall be sold for his theft. Penal servitude, or slavery, was imposed only on men, never on women. Slavery, as a penalty for theft, was limited to a period of six years in obedience to the Mosaic ordinance laid down in Exodus xxi. 2. If thou buy a Hebrew servant, six years he shall serve: and in the seventh, he shall go free for nothing. It should be remarked, in this connection, that slavery, as a punishment for crime, carried with it none of the odium and hardship usually borne by the slave. The humanity of Hebrew law provided that the culprit, thief though he was, should not be degraded or humiliated. He could be compelled to do work for his master, such as he had been accustomed to do while free, but was relieved by the law from all degrading employment, such as "attending the master to the bath, fastening or unfastening his sandals, washing his feet, or any other labor usually performed by the regular slave." Hebrew law required such kindly treatment of the convict thief by his master that this maxim was the result: "He who buys a Hebrew slave, buys himself a master." _Internment_ in a city of refuge was the punishment for accidental homicide. Mischance or misadventure, resulting in the slaying of a fellow-man, was not, properly speaking, a crime; nor was exile in a city of refuge considered by the Talmudists a form of punishment. But they are so classified by most writers on Hebrew criminal law. Among nearly all ancient nations there was a place of refuge for the unfortunate and downtrodden of the earth; debtors, slaves, criminals, and political offenders; some sacred spot--an altar, a grave, or a sanctuary dedicated and devoted to some divinity who threw about the hallowed place divine protection and inviolability. Such was at Athens the Temple of Theseus, the sanctuary of slaves. It will be remembered that the orator Demosthenes took refuge in the Temple of Poseidon as a sanctuary, when pursued by emissaries of Antipater and the Macedonians.[71] Among the ancient Hebrews, there were six cities of refuge; three on either side of the Jordan. They were so located as to be nearly opposite each other. Bezer in Reuben was opposite Hebron in Judah; Schechem in Ephraim was opposite to Ramoth in Gad; and Golan in Manasseh was opposite to Kedesh in Naphtali.[72] Highways in excellent condition led from one to the other. Signposts were placed at regular intervals to indicate the way to the nearest city of refuge. These cities were designated by the law as asylums or sanctuaries for the protection of innocent slayers of their fellow-men from the "avenger of blood." Among nearly all primitive peoples of crude political development, such as the early Germans, the ancient Greeks and Slavs, certain North American savage tribes and the modern Arabs, Corsicans and Sicilians, the right of private vengeance was and is taught and tolerated. Upon the "next of kin," the "avenger of blood," devolved the duty of hunting down and slaying the guilty man. Cities of refuge were provided by Mosaic law for such an emergency among the Hebrews. This provision of the Mosaic Code doubtless sprang from a personal experience of its founder. Bible students will remember that Moses slew an Egyptian and was compelled to flee in consequence.[73] Remembering his dire distress on this occasion, the great lawgiver was naturally disposed to provide sanctuaries for others similarly distressed. But the popular notion of the rights of sanctuary under the Mosaic law is far from right. That a common murderer could, by precipitate flight, reach one of the designated places and be safe from his pursuers and the vengeance of the law, is thought by many. The observation of Benny on this point is apt and lucid: Internment in one of the cities of refuge was not the scampering process depicted in the popular engraving: a man in the last stage of exhaustion at the gate of an Eastern town; his pursuers close upon him, arrows fixed and bows drawn; his arms stretched imploringly towards a fair Jewish damsel, with a pitcher gracefully poised upon her head. This may be extremely picturesque, but it is miserably unlike the custom in vogue among the later Hebrews. Internment in a city of refuge was a sober and judicial proceeding. He who claimed the privilege was tried before the Sanhedrin like any ordinary criminal. He was required to undergo examination; to confront witnesses, to produce evidence, precisely as in the case of other offenders. He had to prove that the homicide was purely accidental; that he had borne no malice against his neighbor; that he had not lain in wait for him to slay him. Only when the judges were convinced that the crime was homicide by misadventure was the culprit adjudged to be interned in one of the sheltering cities. There was no scurrying in the matter; no abrupt flight; no hot pursuit, and no appeal for shelter. As soon as judgment was pronounced the criminal was conducted to one of the appointed places. He was accompanied the whole distance by two talmide-chachamin-disciples of the Rabbins. The avengers of the blood dared not interfere with the offender on the way. To slay him would have been murder, punishable with death. _Execution of Capital Sentences._ (1) _Beheading._--The Hebrews considered beheading the most awful and ignominious of all forms of punishment. It was the penalty for deliberate murder and for communal apostasy from Judaism to idolatry, the most heinous offenses against the Hebrew theocracy. Beheading was accomplished by fastening the culprit securely to a post and then severing his head from his body by a stroke with a sword.[74] (2) _Strangling._--The capital punishment of strangling was effected by burying the culprit to his waist in soft mud, and then tightening a cord _wrapped in a soft cloth_ around his neck, until suffocation ensued.[75] (3) _Burning._--The execution of criminals by burning was not done by consuming the living person with fire, as was practiced in the case of heretics by prelates in the Middle Ages and in the case of white captives by savages in colonial days in America. Indeed, the term "burning" seems to be a misnomer in this connection, for the culprit was not really burned to death. He was simply suffocated by strangling. As in the case of strangling, the condemned man was placed in a pit dug in the ground. Soft dirt was then thrown in and battered down, until nothing but his head and chest protruded. A cord, wrapped in a soft cloth, was then passed once around his neck. Two strong men came forward, grasped each an end, and drew the cord so hard that suffocation immediately followed. As the lower jaw dropped from insensibility and relaxation, a lighted wick was quickly thrown into his mouth. This constituted the burning.[76] There is authority for the statement that instead of a lighted wick, molten lead was poured down the culprit's throat.[77] (4) _Stoning._--Death by stoning was accomplished in the following manner: The culprit was taken to some lofty hill or eminence, made to undress completely, if a man, and was then precipitated violently to the ground beneath. The fall usually broke the neck or dislocated the spinal cord. If death did not follow instantaneously the witnesses hurled upon his prostrate body heavy stones until he was dead. If the first stone, so heavy as to require two persons to carry it, did not produce death, then bystanders threw stones upon him until death ensued. Here, again, "stoning" to death is not strictly accurate. Death usually resulted from the fall of the man from the platform, scaffold, hill, or other elevation from which he was hurled. It was really a process of neck-breaking, instead of stoning, as burning was a process of suffocation, instead of consuming with fire. These four methods of execution--beheading, strangling, burning, and stoning--were the only forms of capital punishment known to the ancient Hebrews. Crucifixion was never practiced by them; but a posthumous indignity, resembling crucifixion, was employed as an insult to the criminal, in the crimes of idolatry and blasphemy. In addition to being stoned to death, as a punishment for either of these crimes, the dead body of the culprit was then hanged in public view as a means of rendering the offense more hideous and the death more ignominious. This _hanging_ to a tree was in obedience to a Mosaic ordinance contained in Deut. xxi. 22. The corpse was not permitted, however, to remain hanging during the night. The burial of the dead body of the criminal immediately followed execution, but interment could not take place in the family burial ground. Near each town in ancient Palestine were two cemeteries; in one of them were buried those criminals who had been executed by beheading or strangling; in the other were interred those who had been put to death by stoning or burning. The bodies were required to remain, thus buried, until the flesh had completely decayed and fallen from the bone. The relatives were then permitted to dig up the skeletons and place them in the family sepulchers. CHAPTER III HEBREW CRIMINAL LAW--COURTS AND JUDGES The Hebrew tribunals were three in kind: the Great Sanhedrin; the Minor Sanhedrin; and the Lower Tribunal, or the Court of Three. The Great Sanhedrin, or Grand Council, was the high court of justice and the supreme tribunal of the Jews. It sat at Jerusalem. It numbered seventy-one members. Its powers were legislative, executive, and judicial. It exercised all the functions of education, of government, and of religion. It was the national parliament of the Hebrew Theocracy, the human administrator of the divine will. It was the most august tribunal that ever interpreted or administered religion to man. _The Name._--The word "Sanhedrin" is derived from the Greek ([Greek: synedrion]) and denotes a legislative assembly or an ecclesiastical council deliberating in a sitting posture. It suggests also the gravity and solemnity of an Oriental synod, transacting business of great importance. The etymology of the word indicates that it was first used in the later years of Jewish nationality. Several other names are also found in history to designate the Great Sanhedrin of the Jews. The Council of Ancients is a familiar designation of early Jewish writers. It is called Gerusia, or Senate, in the second book of Maccabees.[78] Concilium, or Grand Council, is the name found in the Vulgate.[79] The Talmud designates it sometimes as the Tribunal of the Maccabees, but usually terms it Sanhedrin, the name most frequently employed in the Greek text of the Gospels, in the writings of the Rabbins, and in the works of Josephus.[80] _Origin of the Great Sanhedrin._--The historians are at loggerheads as to the origin of the Great Sanhedrin. Many contend that it was established in the Wilderness by Moses, who acted under divine commission recorded in Numbers xi. 16, 17: "Gather unto me seventy of the elders of Israel, whom thou knowest to be the elders of the people, and officers of them; and bring them unto the tabernacle of the congregation, that they may stand with thee; and I will take of the Spirit that is upon thee and will put it upon them; and they shall bear the burden of the people with thee, that thou bearest it not alone." Over the seventy elders, Moses is said to have presided, making seventy-one, the historic number of the Great Sanhedrin. Several Christian historians, among them Grotius and Selden, have entertained this view; others equally celebrated have maintained contrary opinions. These latter contend that the council of seventy ordained by Moses existed only a short time, having been established to assist the great lawgiver in the administration of justice; and that, upon the entrance of the children of Israel into the Promised Land, it disappeared altogether. The writers who hold this view contend that if the great assembly organized in the Wilderness was perpetuated side by side with the royal power, throughout the ages, as the Rabbis maintained, some mention of this fact would, in reason, have been made by the Bible, Josephus, or Philo. The pages of Jewish history disclose the greatest diversity of opinion as to the origin of the Great Sanhedrin. The Maccabean era is thought by some to be the time of its first appearance. Others contend that the reign of John Hyrcanus, and still others that the days of Judas Maccabeus, marked its birth and beginning. Raphall, having studied with care its origin and progress, wrote: "We have thus traced the existence of a council of Zekenim or Elders founded by Moses, existing in the days of Ezekiel, restored under the name of Sabay Yehoudai, or Elders of the Jews, under Persian dominion; Gerusia, under the supremacy of the Greeks; and Sanhedrin under the Asmonean kings and under the Romans."[81] Brushing aside mere theory and speculation, one historical fact is clear and uncontradicted, that the first Sanhedrin Council clothed with the general judicial and religious attributes of the Great Sanhedrin of the times of Jesus, was established at Jerusalem between 170 and 106 B.C. _Organization of the Great Sanhedrin._--The seventy-one members composing the Great Sanhedrin were divided into three chambers: The chamber of priests; The chamber of scribes; The chamber of elders. The first of these orders represented the religious or sacerdotal; the second, the literary or legal; the third, the patriarchal, the democratic or popular element of the Hebrew population. Thus the principal Estates of the Commonwealth of Israel were present, by representation, in the great court and parliament of the nation. Matthew refers to these three orders and identifies the tribunal that passed judgment upon Christ: "From that time forth, began Jesus to shew unto his disciples, how that he must go unto Jerusalem, and suffer many things of the elders and chief priests and scribes, and be killed and raised again the third day."[82] Theoretically, under the Hebrew constitution, the "seventy-one" of the three chambers were to be equally divided: Twenty-three in the chamber of priests, Twenty-three in the chamber of scribes, Twenty-three in the chamber of elders. A total of sixty-nine, together with the two presiding officers, would constitute the requisite number, seventy-one. But, practically, this arrangement was rarely ever observed. The theocratic structure of the government of Israel and the pious regard of the people for the guardians of the Temple, gave the priestly element a predominating influence from time to time. The scribes, too, were a most vigorous and aggressive sect and frequently encroached upon the rights and privileges of the other orders. Abarbanel, one of the greatest of the Hebrew writers, has offered this explanation: "The priests and scribes naturally predominated in the Sanhedrin because, not having like the other Israelites received lands to cultivate and improve, they had abundant time to consecrate to the study of law and justice, and thus became better qualified to act as judges."[83] _Qualifications of Members of the Great Sanhedrin._--The following qualifications were requisite to entitle an applicant to membership in the Great Sanhedrin: (1) _He must have been a Hebrew and a lineal descendant of Hebrew parents._[84] (2) _He must have been "learned in the law"; both written and unwritten._ His legal attainment must have included an intimate acquaintance with all the enactments of the Mosaic Code, with traditional practices, with the precepts and precedents of the colleges, with the adjudications of former courts and the opinions of former judges. He must have been familiar not only with the laws then actively in force, but also with those that had become obsolete.[85] (3) _He must have had judicial experience; that is, he must have already filled three offices of gradually increasing dignity, beginning with one of the local courts, and passing successively through two magistracies at Jerusalem._[86] (4) _He must have been thoroughly proficient in scientific knowledge._ The ancient Sanhedrists were required to be especially well grounded in astronomy and medicine. They were also expected to be familiar with the arts of the necromancer.[87] We are also led to believe from the revelations of the Talmud that the judges of Israel were well versed in the principles of physiology and chemistry, as far as these sciences were developed and understood in those days. History records that Rabbi Ismael and his disciples once engaged in experimental dissection in order to learn the anatomy of the human frame. On one occasion a deceitful witness tried to impose upon a Hebrew court by representing spermatic fluid to be the albumen of an egg. Baba bar Boutah was enabled, from his knowledge of the elements of chemistry, to demonstrate the fact of fraud in the testimony of the witness. Eighty disciples of the famous Academy of Hillel are said to have been acquainted with every branch of science known in those days.[88] (5) _He must have been an accomplished linguist; that is, he must have been thoroughly familiar with the languages of the surrounding nations._ Interpreters were not allowed in Hebrew courts. A knowledge of several languages was, therefore, indispensable to the candidate who sought membership in the Great Sanhedrin. "In the case of a foreigner being called as a witness before a tribunal, it was absolutely necessary that two members should understand the language in which the stranger's evidence was given; that two others should speak to him; while another was required to be both able to understand and to converse with the witness. A majority of three judges could always be obtained on any doubtful point in the interpretation of the testimony submitted to the court. At Bither there were three Rabbins acquainted with every language then known, while at Jabneh there were said to be four similarly endowed with the gift of 'all the tongues.'"[89] (6) _He must have been modest, popular, of good appearance, and free from haughtiness._[90] The Hebrew mind conceived modesty to be the natural result of that learning, dignity, and piety which every judge was supposed to possess. The qualification of "popularity" did not convey the notion of electioneering, hobnobbing and familiarity. It meant simply that the reputation of the applicant for judicial honors was so far above reproach that his countrymen could and would willingly commit all their interests of life, liberty, and property to his keeping. By "good appearance" was meant that freedom from physical blemishes and defects, and that possession of physical endowments that would inspire respect and reverence in the beholder. The haughty judge was supposed to be lacking in the elements of piety and humility which qualified him for communion with God. Haughtiness, therefore, disqualified for admission to the Great Sanhedrin. (7) _He must have been pious, strong, and courageous._[91] Piety was the preëminent qualification of a judge of Israel. Impiety was the negation of everything Israelitish. Strength and courage are attributes that all judges in all ages and among all races have been supposed to possess in order to be just and righteous in their judgments. _Disqualifications._--Disqualifications of applicants for membership in the Great Sanhedrin are not less interesting than qualifications. They are in the main mere negatives of affirmatives which have already been given, and would seem, therefore, to be superfluous. But they are strongly accentuated in Hebrew law, and are therefore repeated here. (1) _A man was disqualified to act as judge who had not, or had never had, any regular trade, occupation, or profession by which he gained his livelihood._ The reason for this disqualification was based upon a stringent maxim of the Rabbins: "He who neglects to teach his son a trade, is as though he taught him to steal!" A man who did not work and had never labored in the sweat of his brow for an honest livelihood, was not qualified, reasoned the Hebrew people, to give proper consideration or extend due sympathy to the cause of litigants whose differences arose out of the struggles of everyday life. (2) _In trials where the death penalty might be inflicted, an aged man, a person who had never had any children of his own, and a bastard were disqualified to act as judge._ A person of advanced years was disqualified because according to the Rabbins old age is frequently marked by bad temper; and "because his years and infirmities were likely to render him harsh, perhaps obstinate and unyielding." On the other hand, youth was also a disqualification to sit in the Sanhedrin. According to the Rabbis, twenty-five years was the age which entitled a person to be called a Man;[92] but no one was eligible to a seat in the Sanhedrin until he had reached the age of forty years.[93] The ancient Hebrews regarded that period as the beginning of discretion and understanding. A person without children was not supposed to possess those tender paternal feelings "which should warm him on behalf of the son of Israel who was in peril of his life." The stain of birth and the degradation in character of a bastard were wholly inconsistent with the high ideals of the qualifications of a Hebrew judge. (3) _Gamblers, dice players, bettors on pigeon matches, usurers, and slave dealers were disqualified to act as judges._ The Hebrews regarded gambling, dice playing, betting on pigeon matches, and other such practices as forms of thievery; and thieves were not eligible to sit as judges in their courts. No man who was in the habit of lending money in an usurious manner could be a judge. It was immaterial whether the money was lent to a countryman or a stranger. Slave dealers were disqualified to act as judges because they were regarded as inhuman and unsympathetic. (4) _No man was qualified to be a judge who had dealt in the fruits of the seventh year._ Such a person was deemed lacking in conscience and unfitted to perform judicial functions. (5) _No man who was concerned or interested in a matter to be adjudicated was qualified to sit in judgment thereon._ This is a universal disqualification of judges under all enlightened systems of justice. The weakness and selfishness of human nature are such that few men are qualified to judge impartially where their own interests are involved. (6) _All relatives of the accused man, of whatever degree of consanguinity, were disqualified from sitting in judgment on his case._ This is only a variation of the disqualification of interest. (7) _No person who would be benefited, as heir, or otherwise, by the death or condemnation of an accused man, was qualified to be his judge._ This, too, is a variation of the disqualification of interest. (8) _The king could not be a member of the Sanhedrin._ Royalty disqualified from holding the place of judge because of the high station of the king and because his exercising judicial functions might hamper the administration of justice. And, finally, in closing the enumeration of disqualifications, it may be added that an election to a seat obtained by fraud or any unfair means was null and void. No respect was shown for the piety or learning of such a judge; his judicial mantle was spat upon with scorn, and his fellow judges fled from him as from a plague or pest. Hebrew contempt for such a judge was expressed in the maxim: "The robe of the unfairly elected judge is to be respected not more than the blanket of an ass." _Officers of the Great Sanhedrin._--Two presiding officers directed the proceedings of the Great Sanhedrin. One of these, styled _prince_ (nasi), was the chief and the president of the court. The other, known as the _father of the Tribunal_ (ab-beth-din), was the vice-president. There has been much discussion among the historians as to the particular chamber from which the president was chosen. Some have contended that the presidency of the Sanhedrin belonged by right to the high priest. But the facts of history do not sustain this contention. Aaron was high priest at the time when Moses was president of the first Sanhedrin in the Wilderness; and, besides, the list of presidents preserved by the Talmud reveals the names of many who did not belong to the priesthood. Maimonides has made the following very apt observation on the subject: "Whoever surpassed his colleagues in wisdom was made by them chief of the Sanhedrin."[94] According to most Jewish writers, there were two scribes or secretaries of the Sanhedrin. But several others contend that there were three. Benny says: "Three scribes were present; one was seated on the right, one on the left, the third in the center of the hall. The first recorded the names of the judges who voted for the acquittal of the accused, and the arguments upon which the acquittal was grounded. The second noted the names of such as decided to condemn the prisoner and the reasons upon which the conviction was based. The third kept an account of both the preceding so as to be able at any time to supply omissions or check inaccuracies in the memoranda of his brother reporters."[95] In addition to these officers, there were still others who executed sentences and attended to all the police work of legal procedure. They were called _shoterim_.[96] There was no such officer as a public prosecutor or State's attorney known to the laws of the ancient Hebrews. The witnesses to the crime were the only prosecutors recognized by Hebrew criminal jurisprudence; and in capital cases they were the legal executioners as well. There was also no such body as the modern Grand Jury known to ancient Hebrew criminal law. And no similar body of committee of the Sanhedrin performed the accusatory functions of the modern Grand Jury. The witnesses were the only accusers, and their testimony was both the indictment and the evidence. Until they testified, the man suspected was deemed not only innocent but unaccused. The profession of the law, in the modern sense of the term, was no part of the judicial system of the ancient Hebrews. There were no advocates as we know them. There were, indeed, men learned in the law--Pharisees and Sadducees--who knew all the law. There were doctors of the law: men whom Jesus confounded when a youth in the Temple at the age of twelve.[97] But there were no lawyers in the modern sense: professional characters who accept fees and prosecute cases. The judges and disciples performed all the duties of the modern attorney and counselor-at-law. The prophets were the sole orators of Hebrew life, but they were never allowed to appear as defendants of accused persons. Indeed, they themselves were at times compelled to play the role of defendants. Jeremiah is an illustrious example.[98] Both Keim[99] and Geikie[100] speak of a Baal Rib, a counsel appointed to see that everything possible was done to secure the rights of an accused person at a Hebrew criminal trial. But these statements are not in accord with standard works on ancient Hebrew jurisprudence. Indeed, Friedlieb emphatically denies that there was any such person as a Baal Rib or Dominus Litis among the ancient Hebrews.[101] It seems that in the closing years of Jewish nationality, specially retained advocates were known, for St. Luke tells us that the Jews employed Tertullus, a certain orator, to prosecute St. Paul.[102] But this was certainly an exceptional case. It is historically certain that in the early ages of the Jewish Commonwealth litigants pleaded their own causes. This we learn from the case of the two women who appeared before King Solomon, and laid before him their respective claims to a child.[103] _Compensation of Officers._--The judges of Israel were originally not paid anything for their services. The honor of the office itself was considered sufficient emolument for labors performed. Indeed, the office of teacher and judge in Israel was so highly prized that the struggles and sacrifices of a lifetime were not considered too great to pay for a place in the Great Sanhedrin. Such high station was regarded as a sacred sphere into which the idea of material gain should not enter. The regular court days were, therefore, spent by the judge on the bench, without any expectation of reward for his services. The other days of the week he spent in earning a livelihood. But in later years of the national life a change seems to have taken place. The ancient rule was so far modified that when the services of the judge were required on days when he was engaged in his private pursuits, custom and the law gave him the right to claim a substitute during the time he was occupied on the bench; or, in default of a substitute, to claim remuneration for the time which he had lost. Another modification was that if his legal duties required his entire time, the judge in Israel was entitled to support from the communal treasury, and was even permitted to accept fees from litigants. This practice was discouraged, however, by the Rabbis, who looked with disfavor upon the appointment of judges who were not entirely able to support themselves. The secretaries and other officers of subordinate dignity were paid for their services.[104] _Sessions of the Courts._--In the early days of the Hebrew Commonwealth the laws provided for no regular court days. The Sanhedrin convened as occasion required, to transact such business and dispose of such cases as came before it. But this practice was oftentimes found to be expensive and annoying to litigants who came into Jerusalem from the country and found no courts in session. To accommodate the country folk, the farmers, and shepherds, Ezra and his coadjutors of the Great Assembly designated Mondays and Thursdays as regular court days. This enactment was not prohibitive, however. Court might be held on any day of the week that necessity required. The reason assigned by the Rabbins for the selection of Mondays and Thursdays as court days was that on those days people from the country usually congregated in populous places, in their houses of worship, to hear the law read and interpreted. While in attendance upon these sacred services, it was thought that the time was both convenient and propitious for the settlement of their legal difficulties.[105] The authorities are divided as to the exact official hours of the day for holding court. "The Sanhedrin sat from the close of the morning sacrifice to the time of the evening sacrifice," is the language of the Jerusalem Talmud.[106] Mendelsohn says: "The official hours for holding court were between the morning service and noon; but a suit entered upon during the legal hours could be carried on until evening, and civil cases could be continued even after nightfall."[107] But in no case of a criminal nature could the court continue its session during the night.[108] The Minor Sanhedrins in the provinces, as well as the local Courts of Three, usually held their sessions in the most public place, that is, at the city gate. The two Minor Sanhedrins of Jerusalem held their sessions at the entrance to the Temple-mound and to the woman's department respectively. The Great Sanhedrin convened in an apartment of the national temple at Jerusalem, known as the _Lishkath haggazith_. This apartment was the celebrated "Hall of Hewn Stones."[109] _Recruitments._--The young Hebrew disciple who possessed the necessary mental, spiritual, and personal qualifications for judicial honors was styled Haber, which means associate, fellow.[110] Such a disciple was first solemnly ordained and received the title of Zaken (elder) or Rabbi. This title rendered him eligible to membership in the different courts. But that he might acquire necessary experience for membership in the Great Sanhedrin and became a sage worthy of Israel, he was required to begin at the lowest rung of the judicial ladder and work gradually to the top. He was first appointed by the Great Sanhedrin to a place in one of the local courts, consisting of three members; he then served as a member of one of the provincial Sanhedrins; was then promoted to the first, and afterwards to the second Minor Sanhedrin at Jerusalem; and was elevated finally to the Great Sanhedrin itself.[111] After this manner, all the courts of the ancient Hebrews were recruited and replenished from time to time; the young aspirant to judicial favors beginning in the local Court of Three and rising by successive steps to the Great Sanhedrin at Jerusalem. The exact method of filling vacancies and thus replenishing the membership of the Great Sanhedrin is not certainly known.[112] The following extract from the Talmud, however, is thought to be authoritative: In front of them (the judges of the Great Sanhedrin) sat three rows of learned disciples; each of them had his own special place. Should it be necessary to promote one of them to the office of judge, one of those in the foremost row was selected. His place was then supplied by one in the second row, while one from the third was in turn advanced to the second. This being done, someone was then chosen from the congregation to supply the vacancy thus created in the third row. But the person so appointed did not step directly into the place occupied by the one last promoted from the third row, but into the place that beseemed one who was only newly admitted.[113] _Quorum of the Great Sanhedrin._--Twenty-three members constituted a quorum of the Great Sanhedrin. This was the full number of the membership of a Minor Sanhedrin. _Number of Votes Required to Convict._--"In criminal trials a majority of one vote is sufficient for an acquittal; but for a condemnation a majority of two is necessary," is the language of the Mishna.[114] The full membership of the Great Sanhedrin was seventy-one. A condemnation by thirty-five acquitted the accused; a condemnation by thirty-six also acquitted. At least thirty-seven votes were needed to convict. If a bare quorum was present, at least thirteen votes were necessary to condemn. A very peculiar rule of Hebrew law provided that "a simultaneous and unanimous verdict of guilty rendered on the day of trial, had the effect of an acquittal."[115] Such a verdict was considered to be lacking in the element of mercy, and was thought to result more from conspiracy and mob violence than from mature judicial deliberation. _Jurisdiction of the Great Sanhedrin._--The jurisdiction of the Great Sanhedrin is briefly and concisely stated in the Mishna: _The judgement of the seventy-one is besought when the affair concerns a whole tribe or is regarding a false prophet or the high-priest; when it is a question whether war shall be declared or not; when it has for its object the enlargement of Jerusalem or its suburbs; whether tribunals of twenty-three shall be instituted in the provinces, or to declare that a town has become defiled, and to place it under ban of excommunication.[116]_ Edward Gibbon has also defined the jurisdiction of the same court as follows: _With regard to civil objects, it was the supreme court of appeal; with regard to criminal matters, a tribunal constituted for the trial of all offences that were committed by men in any public station, or that affected the peace and majesty of the people. Its most frequent and serious occupation was the exercise of judicial power. As a council of state and as a court of justice, it possessed many prerogatives. Every power was derived from its authority, every law was ratified by its sanction._ The Great Sanhedrin possessed all the powers and attributes of a national parliament and a supreme court of judicature. It corresponded to the Areopagus of Athens and to the senate of Rome. It took cognizance of the misconduct of priests and kings. Josephus tells us that Herod the Great was arraigned as a criminal before its judges, and that King Hyrcanus himself obeyed its mandates and decrees. _Appeals._--Appeals were allowed from a Minor Sanhedrin to the Great Sanhedrin. But there was no appeal from a mandate, judgment, or decree of the Great Sanhedrin. "Its authority was supreme in all matters; civil and political, social, religious, and criminal." It is believed that enough has been said touching the character, organization, and jurisdiction of the supreme tribunal of the ancient Hebrews to satisfy the average reader. Indeed, it may be that this limit has been exceeded. The remainder of this chapter will be devoted to a short review of the Minor Sanhedrins and the Courts of Three. _Minor Sanhedrins._--There was no fixed number of Minor Sanhedrins for the administration of Justice in the Hebrew Commonwealth. Wherever and whenever, in any town or city inhabited by at least one hundred and twenty families, the people desired a Sanhedrin of three-and-twenty members, such a tribunal was established. For this purpose, an application was made to the Great Sanhedrin at Jerusalem, which dispatched a mandate to the town ordering the residents to assemble and to nominate from among themselves persons qualified to act as judges. The electors were expected to bear in mind the qualifications that would fit a judge for membership in the Great Sanhedrin, to which all local judges might eventually be elevated. Accordingly, only "good men and true" were chosen at the town mass meeting. Immediately upon receipt of the return to the mandate, an authorization was sent back from Jerusalem to the town or city which confirmed the election and constituted the judges selected a Sanhedrin of three-and-twenty members.[117] _Jurisdiction of the Minor Sanhedrins._--The jurisdiction of the Minor Sanhedrins extended to nearly all criminal cases involving imprisonment or seclusion for life, internment in a city of refuge, and capital punishment. Adultery, seduction, blasphemy, incest, manslaughter, and murder belonged to these different classes. This court condemned an ox to be butchered that had gored a man to death. The condemnation proceedings were something in the nature of a trial of the beast; and the owner was severely fined where the evidence proved that he knew the vicious disposition and habits of the animal. The deliberations at the trial of the bull were most careful and solemn, since the value of a human life was involved in the proceedings and had to be estimated in the judgment. Besides jurisdiction in criminal matters, the Sanhedrins of three-and-twenty members performed certain civil functions. They were the tax boards of the various provinces. They constituted the regular agencies of government for the distribution of public charity. The management and administration of public elementary schools were under their control. The legal standards of weights and measures were inspected by them and received their seals. Sanitary regulations, repairing the defenses of walled cities, and maintaining the public highways in good condition, were among the duties of the Minor Sanhedrins. The qualifications of judges of these courts were the same as those required for membership in the Great Sanhedrin. This was true because the judges of the provincial courts might be promoted to the supreme tribunal at Jerusalem. The Minor Sanhedrins might be very aptly described as the _nisi prius_ courts of the Commonwealth of Israel. It was in these courts of three-and-twenty members that the bulk of Hebrew litigation was disposed of. It seems that, though equal in number, they were not all regarded as equal in learning or authority. It is distinctly stated that appeals could be taken from one Minor Sanhedrin to another "deemed of superior authority."[118] The difference was probably due to the fact that in the larger towns were located colleges and schools, some of whose professors were doubtless either advisers or members of the local Sanhedrin. At any rate, when a difficult question, civil or criminal, could not be determined, for want of an authoritative and registered decision, by an ordinary Sanhedrin of three-and-twenty judges, the matter was referred to the nearest neighboring Sanhedrin thought to be of greater repute. If no authentic tradition offering a solution of the litigated question was in the possession of the Sanhedrin to which appeal had been taken, the matter was then referred to the first Minor Sanhedrin in Jerusalem which sat in the Har-habaith. If the judges of this court were themselves without precedent touching upon the litigated proposition, it was still further referred to the second Minor Sanhedrin of Jerusalem, located in the Azarah. If, again, this Court was without the necessary tradition that would enable it to decide the question, the matter was finally brought before the Great Sanhedrin. If this august tribunal was without precedent and tradition that would enable its members to dispose of the question according to adjudicated cases, they then decided, nevertheless, in accordance with the sentiments and principles of natural justice. It should be remembered that of the Minor Sanhedrins to which every town of one hundred and twenty families was entitled, two sat at Jerusalem. It was left optional with a litigant from the provinces to appeal to the local Sanhedrin or to one of the Minor Sanhedrins in Jerusalem. Local bias or prejudice was thus avoided. _Lower Tribunals._--The lowest order of Hebrew tribunal was the Court of Three, composed of judges selected by the litigants themselves. The plaintiff chose one member, the defendant selected another, and these two chose a third. A majority opinion decided all questions. In the later years of Jewish nationality, it was thought best to have at least one authorized jurist (mumcha) in the Court of Three. This particular judge was probably an appointee of the Great Sanhedrin from among the young disciples (Zaken or Rabbis). This appointment was doubtless intended to give repute to the local court and experience to the legal aspirant, as well as to furnish a possible recruit to the Great Sanhedrin.[119] These courts corresponded very nearly to the modern courts of Justices of the Peace. Their jurisdiction extended to civil matters of small importance and to petty criminal offenses. They were not permanent, being more in the nature of referees or arbitrators, and sat only when occasion required. Their sessions were public and were held in the open air under trees, or at the city gate. Thus much for the judicial system of courts and judges among the ancient Hebrews. It was simple in the extreme, democratic to the core, and seems to have been thoroughly reliable and effective. It was founded upon universal suffrage, subject only to the general supervision and occasional appointments of the Great Sanhedrin. The judges were ever in touch with the sympathies and the best interests of the people. _Peculiarities of the Hebrew System._--Certain very striking peculiarities marked the Hebrew system: (1) There were no lawyers or advocates. These judicial disputants have been known to every other system of enlightened jurisprudence. But there were no Ciceros, Erskines, Choates among the ancient Hebrews. The judges were the defenders as well as the judges of the accused. It may be easily read between the lines that the framers and builders of the Hebrew judicial system regarded paid advocates as an abomination and a nuisance. King Ferdinand, of Spain, seems to have had the Hebrew notion when, more than a thousand years after Jerusalem fell, he sent out colonists to the West Indies, with special instructions "that no lawyers should be carried along, lest lawsuits should become ordinary occurrences in the New World."[120] Ferdinand evidently agreed with Plato that lawyers are the plague of the community.[121] (2) There was no secret body, with the accusatory functions of the modern Grand Jury, connected with the ancient Hebrew judicial system. The witnesses were the accusers, and their testimony constituted both the indictment and the evidence. (3) There were no public prosecutors or State's attorneys known to the Hebrew system. Here, again, the witnesses were the informants, prosecutors, and, in capital cases, executioners of the accused. (4) No court, among the ancient Hebrews, could consist of a single judge. Three was the number of the lowest court; three-and-twenty, of the next highest; and seventy-one, of the Great Sanhedrin at Jerusalem. A single intelligence acting judicially would have been regarded as a usurpation of divine prerogative. The basis of this peculiar Hebrew notion is a single sentence from the Pirke Aboth, iv. 8: "Be not a sole judge, for there is no sole judge but One."[122] CHAPTER IV HEBREW CRIMINAL LAW--WITNESSES AND EVIDENCE _Competency.--The qualifications of a competent witness, under Hebrew law, were almost identical with those of a qualified judge, mentioned in a previous chapter. Self-evidently, all persons who were not incompetent, were competent._ _Incompetency.--The following persons were incompetent to be witnesses: Gentiles, women,[123] minors, slaves,[124] idiots and lunatics, deaf mutes, blind men, gamblers, usurers, illiterate or immodest persons, persons who had been convicted of irreligion or immorality, relatives by affinity or consanguinity, and all persons directly interested in the case._ The witness must have been a Hebrew, though the Talmud mentions cases in which certain facts were allowed to stand proved upon statements "made innocently" by a Gentile; that is, not as a witness in court. Women were not permitted to be witnesses ordinarily, because of the "levity and boldness of the sex."[125] In capital cases, they were not allowed to testify against the accused, because the law required the witnesses to become the executioners of the condemned man, and it was not deemed proper to impose this solemn and awful duty upon the weaker sex. Puberty or adolescence marked the age which qualified a person to be a witness in criminal cases; that is, the thirteenth year must have been passed. Immoral and irreligious persons were incompetent to testify. Such men were termed "wicked" in reference to the law as laid down in Exodus xxiii. 1: "Thou shalt not raise a false report: put not thine hand with the wicked to be an unrighteous witness." Under the stigma of the immoral and irreligious came dicers, usurers, pigeon fliers, and those who traded in the fruits of the Sabbatical year. Maimonides also mentions as incompetent "men who showed lack of self-respect by eating on the street, walking about naked at their work, or living openly on the charity of Gentiles."[126] Publicans--tax-gatherers--were usually classed with heathens and sinners as being among the immoral and irreligious. This class of persons were suspected by the Jews, not only because they were regarded as the official representatives of the Roman oppressors of Judea, but also because extortion and cruelty were frequently practiced by them. Theocritus being asked which was the most cruel of all beasts, replied: "Among the beasts of the wilderness, the bear and the lion are the most cruel, but among the beasts of the city, the Publican and the Parasite."[127] The doctrine of interest as a disqualification to testify was carried to the limit of declaring a person incompetent to be a witness when he was the citizen of a town where claim of title to the public bath house or the square was made, until he had first divested himself of all share in the title to the litigated property.[128] _Number Required to Convict.--Under Hebrew law, both Mosaic and Talmudic, at least two witnesses were required to convict an accused person. The prosecuting witness being included, three were necessary._ Concerning capital punishment, the Mosaic ordinance, referring to this rule, runs thus: At the mouth of _two_ witnesses, or _three_ witnesses, shall he that is worthy of death be put to death; but at the mouth of _one_ witness he shall not be put to death.[129] Whoso killeth any person, the murderer shall be put to death by the mouth of witnesses; but _one_ witness shall not testify against any person to cause him to die.[130] From the Talmud we learn that this Mosaic provision was maintained with scrupulous fidelity in the administration of justice throughout all the years of Jewish nationality. It was a requirement of prudence and safety which commends itself to every logician and legist. It is not necessary to be a criminal lawyer of large experience to know that the blackest falsehood can almost always secure at least one champion. Pliny, the historian, knew this when he wrote: "_Nullum tam impudens mendacium est quod teste careat._"[131] The requirement of two witnesses was not, however, peculiar to the jurisprudence of the Hebrews. Nearly every ancient code contained a similar enactment. It was especially prominent in Roman law.[132] But it can scarcely be found to-day in any modern legislation. In prosecutions for the crimes of treason and perjury under the Common Law of England, two witnesses were required; in almost all other cases, one positive witness was sufficient.[133] The American Constitution requires two witnesses to the same overt act, to convict of treason.[134] And the penal laws of the majority of the American States have provisions requiring at least two witnesses, or one witness corroborated by circumstantial evidence, to establish guilt in the prosecution of certain crimes; notably, the sexual crimes of rape and seduction, the crime of perjury, as well as all crimes where it is sought to convict upon the testimony of an accomplice. More than one hundred years ago, Montesquieu boasted of such a requirement in French law and declared that those laws which condemn a man to death on the testimony of a single witness are fatal to liberty.[135] The reason of the rule proclaimed by the great French writer is the same as that put forth by the ancient Rabbins. It was assumed that the defendant in a criminal case would plead not guilty and deny the facts of the crime. His plea and denial would simply counterbalance and destroy the testimony of a single witness swearing for the commonwealth. The testimony of a third witness was, therefore, indispensable to a decision. It may be objected that this rule was absurd, since a conviction was impossible unless the State could produce more witnesses than the accused. But we shall learn later that the doctrine of sifting testimony and weighing the credibility of witnesses did not obtain so strictly among the ancient Hebrew judges as it does in cases of modern trial by jury under English and American law. _Agreement of Witnesses.--The witnesses were required to agree in all essential details; else, their testimony was invalid and had to be rejected._ The Talmudic provision is: "If one witness contradicts another, the testimony is not accepted."[136] The illustration of the rule given by Maimonides, in his commentary on this provision, is: "For instance, if one witness were to testify to having seen an Israelite in the act of worshiping the sun, and another to having seen the same man worshiping the moon, yet, although each of the two facts proves clearly that the man had committed the horrible crime of idolatry, the discrepancy in the statements of the witnesses invalidates their testimony and the accused is free."[137] This rule of strict agreement, it is supposed, extended, at first, only to criminal cases, but it was undoubtedly afterwards applied to civil causes as well. An eminent contributor to the "Jewish Encyclopedia" says: In civil cases, however, it is not necessary that the two witnesses should agree very closely as to the time and place. Thus, if of two witnesses to a loan one should say, "A lent B a jar of oil," the other, "He lent him a jar of wine"; or, if one should say, "I was present when the money was paid at Jerusalem," the other, "I saw it paid at Hebron"; or, if one should say, "I saw it paid in the month of Nisan," the other, "I saw it paid in Iyyar," their testimony would be void. But if one says he saw it paid in the upper and the other in the lower story; or if he says on the first of the month and the other on the second of the month, such evidence is within the limit of fair mistake and the testimony stands. Even less does a disagreement as to circumstances other than time and place affect the testimony; for instance, if one say the money is black from usage, the other that it was new, this would be regarded as an immaterial circumstance, and the testimony would stand. Where the two witnesses vary only in the matter of quantity, the lesser quantity is sufficiently proved.[138] One of the strangest provisions of Hebrew law was the requirement that the testimony of each witness to the transaction should cover the entire case. This was a Talmudic rule resulting from Rabbinic construction of the Mosaic ordinance, requiring at least two witnesses to establish a crime. The doctors of the law construed the rule to mean that the testimony of each witness was to be complete within itself and to extend to the whole case. Hebrew law did not permit the use of circumstantial evidence in criminal prosecutions. Only eyewitnesses of the crime were competent. Under English and American law a crime may be proven by any number of witnesses, each of whom testifies to a separate fact which constitutes a link in the chain of circumstantial evidence. But this method of proof was forbidden by both the Pentateuch and the Talmud. Under Hebrew law the capital crime of kidnaping was made up of the two elements of Abduction and Selling. The testimony of two witnesses--one to the fact of Abduction, the other to the fact of Selling--was insufficient to convict. Each had to testify to the facts of both Abduction and Selling. This Talmudic rule of criminal procedure was undoubtedly based upon a supreme regard for the sanctity of human life and upon the fact that the Hebrews rejected circumstantial evidence altogether in proving crime. The extreme of the rule is declared by Mendelsohn when he says: "And even where there appeared a legal number of duly qualified witnesses, the testimony was insufficient to convict, unless they agreed not only with regard to the prisoner's offense, but also with regard to the mode of committing it. Rabbinic law does not subject a person to capital, nor even to corporal punishment, unless all witnesses charge him with one and the same criminal act, their statements fully agreeing in the main circumstances, and declaring that they saw one another, while seeing him engaged in the crime."[139] _No Oath Required.--An oath, in the modern sense, was never administered to a Hebrew witness._ Testimony was given under the sanction of the Ninth Commandment: "Thou shalt not bear false witness against thy neighbor." This solemn prohibition of bearing false witness was regarded by both Moses and the Talmudists as a sufficient safeguard against perjury. It was a settled maxim of Talmudic law that: "Whosoever will not tell the truth without an oath, would not scruple to assert falsehood with an oath." The doctrine was carried still further by some of the Jewish philosophers who declared that swearing was injurious in itself; and that he who consents to swear should _ipso facto_ be suspected of lacking credibility.[140] In the place of an oath, the following solemn warning or adjuration was administered to each witness in the presence of the entire court: Forget not, O witness, that it is one thing to give evidence in a trial as to money and another in a trial for life. In a money suit, if thy witness-bearing shall do wrong, money may repair that wrong. But in this trial for life, if thou sinnest, the blood of the accused and the blood of his seed to the end of time shall be imputed unto thee.... Therefore was Adam created one man and alone, to teach thee that if any witness shall destroy one soul out of Israel, he is held by the Scripture to be as if he had destroyed the world; and he who saves one such soul to be as if he had saved the world.... For a man from one signet ring may strike off many impressions, and all of them shall be exactly alike. But He, the King of the kings of kings, He the Holy and the Blessed, has struck off from His type of the first man the forms of all men that shall live, yet so that no one human being is wholly alike to any other. Wherefore let us think and believe that the whole world is created for a man such as he whose life hangs on thy words. But these ideas must not deter thee from testifying to what thou actually knowest. Scripture declares: "The witness who hath seen or known, and doth not tell, shall bear his iniquity." Nor must ye scruple about becoming the instrument of the alleged criminal's death. Remember the Scriptural maxim: "In the destruction of the wicked, there is joy."[141] It will be observed that the two elements of this preliminary caution were, first, a solemn warning against injustice to the accused through false swearing and a reminder of the inevitable retribution of Heaven upon the perjured swearer and his remote descendants; second, a pointed admonition against timidity or fear in testifying. Bound by this tremendous sanction, the Hebrew witness was prepared to testify. The method was unique, but seems to have been thoroughly effective. Students of law will not be struck by its peculiarity. They are well aware that any plan or mode is legal and effective that binds the conscience of the witness. Even under modern codes that impose an oath, no fixed form is imperatively demanded. In King _v._ Morgan, I Leach C. L. 54, a Mahometan was sworn upon the Koran; in Omychund _v._ Baker, I Atk. 21, a Gentoo was sworn by touching the foot of a Brahmin; in Reg. _v._ Entrehman, I Car. & M. 248, a Chinese witness took an oath by kneeling down and breaking a saucer, the oath being administered through an interpreter in these words: "You shall tell the truth, the whole truth; the saucer is cracked, and if you do not tell the truth, your soul will be cracked like the saucer." _Examination of Witnesses._--As an act of caution against the admission of irrelevant testimony, and as a means of placing before the entire court, in the first instance, only such evidence as was deemed strictly legal, a preliminary examination of witnesses was conducted in private by a special committee of the Sanhedrin appointed for that purpose. All irrelevant testimony developed at this private examination was immediately declared inadmissible and was cast aside. The necessary result of this most sensible proceeding was the discovery, in advance, of discrepancies in the statements of witnesses and the eradication of all illegal testimony. The full court sitting in regular session were not, therefore, exposed to the danger of being prejudiced by the recital of facts that had no legal connection with the case. Modern jurists might easily learn something from the ancient Hebrews in this regard. Every sensible lawyer is perfectly well aware of the absurdity and injustice of the modern method of criminal procedure in allowing skilled and designing attorneys to propose certain kinds of irrelevant testimony in the presence of the jury, knowing very well that it will be overruled by the court. These attorneys frequently deliberately draw out such testimony from the witness with the expectation and understanding that it will be ordered stricken out. The rule of practice that allows incompetent testimony to be temporarily introduced upon a promise that a foundation will be laid or relevancy shown, is abortive instead of productive of justice. The mere clerical act of striking out incompetent testimony does not, as a matter of fact, remove the impression of prejudice from the brain of the judge or juror. The ancient Sanhedrists were men of brilliant education and superior natural endowments. They were trained in powers of logical analysis, and yet they were unwilling to trust themselves with the possession of prejudicial facts arising from incompetent testimony. It is respectfully submitted that the modern average juror, whose mind is usually undisciplined in logic and legal matters, is not able to sift and disentangle the relevant from the irrelevant in the record of a civil or criminal trial of two or more weeks' duration. Theoretically, he is; but practically, he is not. Every impression, good or bad, legal or illegal, received at the trial, affects his judgment and enters into the general summary of the case in reaching a verdict. _Separation of Witnesses.--The witnesses were required to give their testimony separately and always in the presence of the accused._ Daniel said to the people concerning the two old men who testified against Susanna: "_Separate_ them, and I will examine them."[142] By this was meant that witnesses could not be examined until they had been separated in conformity with law. Under modern practice in most jurisdictions, witnesses may be separated and examined one at a time out of the presence of each other. The rule of separation is, however, generally optional with the litigant and discretionary with the court; the ruling of the court being usually reversed only in case of abuse of discretion. But among the Hebrews the requirement was mandatory and imperative. It had to be observed in every case. _Mode of Examination of Witnesses._--The mode employed by the Hebrew judges in examining witnesses is without a precedent or parallel in the jurisprudence of the world. Two distinct sets of questions constituted the examination. The first set consisted of a series of interrogations relating to the _time_ and _place_ of the alleged crime. These questions were prescribed by law and could not be varied in the slightest. The technical name applied to the first set of questions was Hakiroth. The second set was termed Bedikoth[143] and included all interrogations touching the investigation of relevant circumstances and corroborative facts surrounding the case. The following seven questions, constituting the Hakiroth, the first set of questions, were propounded to each witness: "Was it during a year of jubilee? Was it in an ordinary year? In what month? On what day of the month? At what hour? In what place? Do you identify this person?"[144] These seven questions were framed and applied in conformity with a fundamental principle of the Hebrew law of evidence that the testimony of any witness, if false, should admit of being impeached and overthrown by proof of an _alibi_ against the witness. It seems, indeed, that proof of an _alibi_ against the witness was the only method of impeachment known to Hebrew law. It may be readily seen that the only statements capable of being thus contradicted were confined to those relating to the details of _time_ and _place_. To illustrate: Suppose that two witnesses had testified that the alleged crime was committed in a certain town at a certain hour; suppose that it subsequently appeared in evidence that, at the stated time, one or both these witnesses were in a neighboring town. In such a case, the witness or witnesses stood impeached, their testimony was overthrown and they, themselves, became subject to the pains and penalties of perjury. The failure of any witness to answer satisfactorily any of the seven questions above mentioned entitled the accused to immediate acquittal. Any material disagreement between two or more witnesses required by the law in answer to any one of these questions, likewise entitled the prisoner to immediate discharge. These seven questions seem to have been framed not so much to develop truthful testimony and to promote the ends of justice from the standpoint of the State as to enable the defendant to attack and destroy the testimony of hostile witnesses. The rule and the reason thereof are thus clearly and succinctly stated by Mendelsohn: The several particulars referring to time and place must be furnished with the greatest possible precision and certainty, and that by the whole party of witnesses. The slightest disagreement on the part of the witnesses in regard to any one of these particulars invalidates the entire testimony. Even where a number of witnesses greater than that required by law, as three, appear, and two agree on every point, but the third differs from them as to more than one day, or more than one hour in the day, the whole testimony is invalidated. For time and place are the only points which affect the person of the witness himself; he not being able to be at more than one spot at any one time; time and place are, accordingly, the only grounds on which the witness may be confuted and duly punished. The second set of questions, termed the Bedikoth, embraced all matters not brought out by the Hakiroth, such as would form the basis of legitimate modern direct or cross examination. The following kinds of evidence, however, were not admissible under either set of questions: Evidence of character, good or bad; previous convictions of the accused; and evidence as to the prisoner's antecedents. Such matters were not relevant, under Hebrew law, and could not be urged against the prisoner.[145] _False Witnesses.--Hebrew law provided that false witnesses should suffer the penalty provided for the commission of the crime which they sought by their testimony to fix upon the accused._ The Scriptural authority for this rule is the following: "And the judges shall make diligent inquisition; and, behold, if the witness be a false witness and hath testified falsely against his brother, then shall ye do unto him as he had thought to do unto his brother. ... And thine eye shall not pity, but life shall go for life, eye for eye, tooth for tooth, hand for hand, foot for foot."[146] "And they arose against the two elders, for Daniel had convicted them of false witness, by their own mouth; and according to the law of Moses, they did unto them in such a sort as they maliciously intended to do their neighbor; and they put them to death."[147] _The Accused as Witness.--The accused was never compelled, under Hebrew law, to testify against himself; but was permitted and encouraged to offer testimony in his own behalf. His confession of guilt was accepted in evidence and considered in connection with other facts of the case, but was never permitted, standing alone, to form the basis of a conviction._ The following is the commentary of Maimonides on this rule of law: We have it as a fundamental principle of our jurisprudence that no one can bring an accusation against himself. Should a man make a confession of guilt before a legally constituted tribunal, such confession is not to be used against him, unless properly attested by two other witnesses. It is, however, well to remark that the death sentence issued against Achan was an exceptional case, brought about by the nature of the circumstances attending it, for our law never condemns on the single confession of an accused party.[148] It is needless to suggest that the accused was never put under oath. His position in this regard was exactly the same as that of any other Hebrew witness. A special reason assigned for not swearing the accused is that offered in the celebrated maxim: "In most men religion is silent when interest speaks." Again, the inducement to perjury was so great that it was thought imprudent to allow the accused to confess under the solemnity of an oath. The principle of law which rejects a bare confession of guilt as a basis of criminal conviction is one of the most merciful and benign known to jurisprudence. It is intended to protect the commonwealth against perjury and deception on the part of the accused. It is also intended to protect the prisoner against ignorance and rashness. It is a well-known fact that the masses of mankind are ignorant of law, both civil and criminal. Not one in a thousand in the most enlightened commonwealths can define successfully the elements of the crimes of the state of which he is a citizen. By refusing to allow an uncorroborated confession to be made the basis of a conviction, the State simply throws the mantle of charity and protection around the ignorance of the prisoner who confesses. It is also well known that men will frequently confess guilt when they are not guilty; sometimes, when they are even ignorant of the facts constituting the offense. This is one of the strangest things known to psychology and mental philosophy.[149] It is derived from the well-known and universally recognized weakness of the human will when confronted with a charge that threatens to blight and destroy life and character at a single blow. A celebrated modern writer, while discussing this rule of Hebrew law, wrote the following observations upon the origin and motive of confession of guilt under criminal charges: The confession of the accused made no exception to the rule, showing how a confession could be made the result of weakness, or folly, or of interest--yes, even of interest. Some homicide on one occasion confessed himself to be guilty of robbery or arson in order to obtain proof of his innocence of some greater crime which he had committed at the same time; a husband persisted in declaring himself guilty of outrage upon a woman, really committed by some unknown person, in order that, by being sentenced on this account, he might prove his marital efficiency, which had been disputed by his wife, who was contemplating steps to annul her marriage. Some weak-minded people, unable to support the torture of a harassing examination, and eager to regain their liberty, make a full confession, accusing themselves in order not to be indicted, like those persons who, crossing a river on a plank bridge, throw themselves, through nervousness, into the rushing water, in order not to fall in. Fools, from want of responsibility, or through a boastful nature, accept, affirm, or confess everything of which they know nothing.[150] The reasons above stated lie at the foundation of all modern provisions framed for the protection of the accused against precipitate self-condemnation. But, strange to say, these reasons were not urged by the framers or interpreters of Hebrew law. The explanation offered by the Talmud was simply this: "He is his own kin"; and, as we have seen, relatives were never permitted to be witnesses. A modern Jewish writer has assigned the following reason for the rule forbidding a confession to form the basis of a conviction: that, if the prisoner were innocent, he should not be permitted to incriminate himself by a false confession; if he were guilty, he was a wicked person, and, therefore, incompetent to testify under Hebrew law.[151] This rule was not enforced, however, against the defendant when testifying in his own behalf; an additional proof of the merciful regard of Hebrew law for the unfortunate position of a human being charged with crime. His testimony, though self-serving, was given due weight when urged in his own defense. Little attention was paid to it when he testified against himself. _Relevancy of Hebrew Evidence.--Hearsay evidence was irrelevant under Hebrew law._ "Hearsay evidence was barred equally in civil as in criminal cases, no matter how strongly the witness might believe in what he heard and however worthy and numerous were his informants."[152] _Circumstantial evidence was irrelevant under Hebrew law._ "The sages had very little more confidence in circumstantial evidence given for the purpose of 'taking money out of' the defendant's pocket, than in that given for the purpose of inflicting the penalty of death or stripes. Ket. ii. 10 has been cited, according to which a witness may testify that, when a boy, he saw a woman walk about in maidenly attire; the object being to prove that she married as a maiden, not as a widow, and is therefore entitled to a greater sum for her jointure. In discussing this clause, the Talmud remarks that this is only arguing from the majority of cases; for though in most cases those wearing maidens' attire are not widows, occasionally they are; and money ought not to be taken out of a man's pocket on reasoning from the greater number of cases. In fact, circumstantial evidence was generally rejected."[153] There were occasional exceptions to the rule in the administration of Hebrew civil law, but none in criminal law. In criminal cases no Hebrew prisoner could be convicted upon circumstantial evidence. Every link in the chain of testimony had to be forged by the direct evidence of at least two competent witnesses; else the accused was acquitted and discharged. _Written, or documentary evidence, was not relevant, under Hebrew law, in criminal prosecution._ The reason of this rule was derived from a literal interpretation of the Mosaic ordinance: "Whoso killeth any person, the murderer shall be put to death by the _mouth of witnesses_."[154] The expression, "mouth of witnesses," was construed by the interpreters of the law to require oral testimony and to exclude writing in all criminal prosecutions. _Kinds of Oral Testimony._--Hebrew oral testimony is divided by the Mishna into three leading classes:[155] (1) Vain testimony. (2) Standing testimony. (3) Adequate testimony. "Vain testimony" seems to have been wholly immaterial and irrelevant. It was not even conditionally admitted, but was instantly and permanently rejected. The New Testament seems to indicate that such testimony was rendered against Jesus by the "many false witnesses" who first came, and that testimony was rejected. "Standing testimony" seems to have been conditionally admitted and to have been allowed to remain in evidence until it was properly confirmed by and joined to other evidence which the law required. It was not valid, however, until so connected and confirmed. We must remember that at least two witnesses, agreeing in all essential details, were needed, under Hebrew law, to convict a prisoner. It is evident then that the testimony of the first witness against the accused was necessarily regarded as "standing testimony," until the second or confirming witness, which the law required, had testified. This testimony is also referred to in the New Testament when it is said that: "At the last, came two false witnesses, And said, This fellow said, I am able to destroy the temple of God and to build it in three days."[156] The testimony of the first of these witnesses was doubtless allowed to stand until it was shown that the second witness did not render testimony in agreement with it. Contradictory testimony was thrown out under Hebrew criminal procedure; and this was done regardless of the number of witnesses who testified against the accused. It seems that a rigid application of the principle of exclusion based upon contradictory statements would have shut out the testimony of any number of agreeing witnesses, if said testimony had been contradicted in a radical and material way by even a single witness. The sifting of evidence and the weighing of the credibility of witnesses, which is the peculiar prerogative of the modern jury, were no part of the duties of the ancient Sanhedrists. The testimony of all the witnesses against the accused had to agree in all material respects, else it was wholly rejected. Now it necessarily follows that all testimony against a prisoner was of the "standing" or provisional kind until the last witness had testified, and it was found that the evidence in its entirety was in legal agreement. Mark, using the almost exact technical expression of the law, tells us, concerning the false testimony against Jesus, that "their witness agreed not together."[157] This disagreement caused the "standing testimony" of the first witness to fall and the charge of threatening or attempting to destroy the Temple was abandoned, as we shall see in a later part of this work. "Adequate testimony," under Hebrew criminal procedure, was evidence that was competent, material, and in legal agreement. When two or more witnesses, being the entire number, against the accused agreed in all essential details, their testimony was considered adequate, and if the judges believed it to be true they based a conviction upon it. _Antecedent Warning._--It is deemed appropriate in this chapter to call attention to and briefly discuss a very striking peculiarity of the law of evidence under Hebrew criminal procedure. In the chapter on Mosaic and Talmudic law, reference was made to the celebrated proviso, called "Antecedent Warning." This proviso was unknown to the Mosaic Code, being a creation of Talmudic law, and is without a parallel in the jurisprudence of the world. Briefly stated, Antecedent Warning, under Hebrew law, meant simply this: That no person charged with crime involving life and death, or even corporal punishment, could be convicted, unless it was shown by competent testimony that immediately before the commission of the crime the offender was warned that what he was about to do was a crime, and that a certain penalty was attached thereto. The warning was not effective if any time elapsed between the admonition and the commission of the offense. Furthermore, the warning was of no force unless it was shown that the alleged criminal had duly acknowledged it and had expressed a willingness to suffer corporal punishment or to die for the act. It must have been shown that, having received the warning, the would-be offender turned to his monitor and said, "I am very well aware of the nature of the act I am about to commit, of the rules of law applicable thereto, and of the inevitable consequences of my misdeed"--else the court could not consider the condition complied with. This peculiar proviso seems to have been intended to serve three distinct purposes: (1) To protect the would-be offender against his own ignorance and rashness and to prevent the commission of crime by a timely warning; (2) to aid in establishing guilty intention, that is, criminal intent, at the trial of the prisoner, after the commission of the offense; (3) to enable the judges to determine the exact penalty to assess. The first two purposes are self-evident. The third merits a brief consideration. To complete the warning, it was essential that the offender be told the exact penalty attached to the crime which he was about to commit; whether the punishment was capital or corporal, and the exact kind, if capital; that is, whether beheading, burning, stoning, or strangling. Now, it often happened that two crimes were committed by the same person in one day; the penalty for one of which being flagellation and the other death. And it sometimes happened that two different crimes were the result of one criminal transaction. In such a case, the nature of the Antecedent Warning would guide the judges in decreeing punishment. To illustrate: The Mosaic Code forbids the killing of either a cow or a ewe "and her young both in one day";[158] and a violation of this prohibition, according to Rabbinic law, entails the punishment of flagellation. Another Mosaic ordinance imposes the penalty of death on the Jewish idolater.[159] Now, it might have happened that the last two offenses mentioned were committed by the same person at the same time, as when an Israelite slaughtered a ewe and her young and sacrificed them as an offering to an idol. The question would at once arise: Which penalty should be assessed, death for idolatry, or flagellation for killing the ewe and her young both on the same day? Here, the nature of the Warning would determine. If the prisoner had been told that flagellation would be the punishment, then stripes were administered. If he had been warned that death was the penalty, then capital punishment was meted out to him. If the caution had included both death and flagellation, then death would have been administered, because of the enormity of the crime of idolatry and for the reason that all lesser punishments are merged in death. Another illustration of the third purpose above mentioned, that is, to enable the judges to determine the exact punishment to administer, is this: The ancient Nazarites made solemn vows of abstemiousness.[160] And when any Israelite took the Nazarite vow and violated it, he subjected himself to the penalty of flagellation if he drank a certain measure (¼ log) of wine. If he drank several such measures in succession, the question would arise how he was to be punished. Again, the antecedent caution would decide. If the testimony showed that he had received due warning before each drink, then he was punished for each drink separately. If he had been admonished only once, he was punished only once for the whole debauch.[161] The enforcement of this proviso established a rule of criminal procedure peculiar to the Hebrews, and recognized by no other nation. Such a requirement seems to be utterly subversive of the celebrated maxim that has found place in every other enlightened system of law: _Ignorantia juris, quod quisque tenetur scire, neminem excusat_. Among modern civilized nations, ignorance or mistake of fact in criminal law, as well as ignorance or mistake of the meaning and effect of civil or private law, has sometimes been permitted to operate as an excuse in favor of the victim of the ignorance or mistake; but ignorance of the criminal or public law has never been permitted to be pleaded as a defense to an indictment for crime. Such a plea would threaten the very existence of the state by rendering the proof of crime and the conviction of criminals impossible. Other reasons besides those assigned above have been advanced to explain the invention of such a proviso by the Talmudists. None of them is entirely satisfactory. Rabbinowicz has urged with great force that the enactment was the offspring of a constantly increasing tendency on the part of the framers of the Talmud to mitigate the rigors of the Mosaic Code, and to abolish altogether the punishment of death by making the conviction of criminals practically impossible.[162] But this view has been ably and probably successfully combated by Benny and others. To say the least, it was a senseless provision when viewed from the standpoint of the state in maintaining order and preserving the commonwealth. The Rabbins framed several exceptions to its operation which were doubtless designed to stay the progress of certain forms of crime and to preserve the state. The false witness was excluded from the benefit of this proviso, as were also the instigator to idolatry and the burglar. The false witness was denied the benefit because of the impossibility of foreseeing that he would swear falsely and of forewarning him; the idolater was excepted because of the heinousness of the crime of idolatry under a theocratic commonwealth; and the burglar was denied the benefit of the caution for the very peculiar reason that the "breaking in," while committing the crime of burglary, was sufficient warning.[163] Such a rule is utterly without foundation in logic or reason from the simple fact that crime in every age has been committed with every circumstance of caution and concealment that criminal ingenuity could devise; usually under the cover of night, often with a mask, frequently by the aid of accomplices to give notice of the appearance of the officers of the law, and nearly always with subsequent attempts to wipe out evidences of the commission of the offense. To require a preliminary caution, such as the Antecedent Warning of the Jews, was to handicap the state most seriously and to render almost impossible the apprehension and punishment of public malefactors. CHAPTER V HEBREW CRIMINAL LAW--MODE OF TRIAL AND EXECUTION IN CAPITAL CASES The administration of Hebrew criminal law was marked by lofty conception of right and wrong, and was pervaded by a noble sentiment of justice and humanity. From the framing of the Decalogue to the latest years of Jewish nationality, each succeeding generation witnessed some humane and merciful modification of existing rules. Talmudic interpretation invented a series or collection of sayings that gave form and character to the whole body of later Hebrew law. These maxims were intended to mitigate the rigors of the Mosaic Code and to establish safeguards against negligence or injustice to the defendant in criminal trials. Indeed, every possible precaution was taken to render impossible the wrongful conviction of an accused person. The student of Hebrew law is at times astonished by the excessive caution inculcated in criminal procedure. Certain cautionary rules are no less than pedantic, and may be justly and aptly styled Judaical. The judges leaned always to the side of the defendant and gave him the advantage of every possible doubt. They went a step farther and sought pretext after pretext that would result in an acquittal. A sense of awful responsibility weighed upon the hearts and consciences of the judges. The services of the synagogue were not conducted with deeper fervor or greater religious solemnity than were the proceedings of a capital trial in the great Judgment Hall of the Sanhedrin. Certain sacred maxims flamed forever like beacon lights along the pathway of the members of the court during the solemn deliberations. "A judge," says the Talmud, "should always consider that a sword threatens him from above, and destruction yawns at his feet." The ancient adage, "the pen of the law fears the thunder of Heaven," though of Chinese origin, is Hebraic in spirit. "Thou shalt do no unrighteousness in judgment" was the leading aphorism of Hebrew jurisprudence. Among the earliest traditions of the Fathers, we read this maxim: "When a judge decides not according to truth, he makes the majesty of God to depart from Israel. But if he judges according to the truth, were it only for one hour, it is as if he established the whole world, for it is in judgment that the divine presence in Israel has its habitation." Hebrew horror of capital punishment and dread of taking human life are well expressed in the celebrated maxim of the Mishna: "The Sanhedrin, which so often as once in seven years, condemns a man to death, is a slaughter-house."[164] And more striking and startling still is the terrible sentence of Rabbi Meir: "What doth God say (if one may speak of God after the manner of men) when a malefactor suffers the anguish due to his crime? He says, _My head and my limbs are pained_. And if he so speaks of the suffering even of the guilty, what must he utter when the righteous is condemned?" The whole spirit of Talmudic caution is well illustrated by the principal rule of the Pirke Aboth, which says: "Be cautious and slow in judgment, send forth many disciples, and _make a fence round the law_."[165] In addition to the maxims above mentioned, which were more religious than legal, four cardinal rules of criminal procedure--"strictness in the accusation, publicity in the discussion, full freedom granted to the accused, and assurance against all dangers or errors of testimony"[166]--molded the judgment and guided the consciences of Hebrew judges. These sayings of the Fathers and maxims of the law were the touchstones of all their judicial inquiries and meditations at the trial of capital cases. With prayer in their hearts and these maxims upon their lips, they applied themselves to the solemn duties of their office. A most interesting passage in the Mishna draws a striking contrast between capital trials and those involving questions of money only. The relevancy of the passage to this chapter is so great that it is deemed best to quote it entire: Money trials and trials for life have the same rule of inquiry and investigation. But they differ in procedure in the following points: The former require only three, the latter three-and-twenty judges. In the former it matters not on which side the judges speak who give the first opinions; in the latter, those who are in favor of acquittal must speak first. In the former, a majority of one is always enough; in the latter, a majority of one is enough to acquit, but it requires a majority of two to condemn. In the former, a decision may be quashed on review (for error), no matter which way it has gone; in the latter, a condemnation may be quashed, but not an acquittal. In the former, disciples of the law present in the court may speak (as assessors) on either side; in the latter, they may speak in favor of the accused, but not against him. In the former, a judge who has indicated his opinion, no matter on which side, may change his mind; in the latter, he who has given his voice for acquittal may not change. The former (money trials) are commenced only in the daytime, but may be concluded after nightfall; the latter (capital trials) are commenced only in the daytime, and must also be concluded during the day. The former may be concluded by acquittal or condemnation on the day on which they have begun; the latter may be concluded on that day if there is a sentence of acquittal, but must be postponed to a second day if there is to be a condemnation. And for this reason capital trials are not held on the day before a Sabbath or a feast day.[167] The principal features of a Hebrew capital trial before the Great Sanhedrin were: (1) The Morning Sacrifice; (2) the Assembling of the Judges in the Lishkath haggazith, or the Hall of Hewn Stones; (3) the Examination of Witnesses; (4) the Debates and Balloting of the Judges on the guilt or the innocence of the accused. These successive steps will be briefly considered in this chapter. _The Morning Sacrifice._--It is not positively known what legal connection, if any, the morning sacrifice had with the trial of a capital case before the Great Sanhedrin at Jerusalem. Several writers contend that there was no essential legal connection; that the sacrifice was offered at the break of day whether a capital case was to be tried or not; and that the court was not dependent upon this religious observance for jurisdiction in the trial of criminal cases. Other writers hold opposite views, and contend that the morning sacrifice was essential to give jurisdiction to the court. MM. Lémann consider it an error in the trial of Jesus that the morning sacrifice was not offered before the commencement of proceedings.[168] Certain passages from the Mishna very strongly support this second view: that the court could not legally convene until the morning sacrifice had been offered. "The Sanhedrin sat from the close of the morning sacrifice to the time of the evening sacrifice."[169] ... "Since the morning sacrifice was offered at the break of day, it was hardly possible for the Sanhedrin to assemble until an hour after that time."[170] These passages seem to indicate that the morning sacrifice was necessary before the court could legally convene. This question will be found more fully discussed under Point V of the Brief in this volume. The method of offering the morning sacrifice was as judicial in its precision as it was religious in its solemnity. _The Assembling of the Judges._--At the close of the morning sacrifice, the members of the court entered the judgment hall in solemn procession. They took their seats, "turbaned, on cushions or pillows, in oriental fashion, with crossed legs, and unshod feet, in a half-circle."[171] The high priest sat in the center with the other members of the court to the right and left of him. "His head was crowned with a turban of blue inwrought with gold. On his bosom hung the priestly breastplate, in which glittered twelve precious stones, emblems of the twelve tribes of Israel. A flowing robe of blue, gathered about his waist by a girdle of purple, scarlet, and gold embroidery, enveloped his person and set off the pure white linen of his capacious sleeves. The buttons of this costly robe were onyx stones. His slippered feet were half concealed beneath the long fringe of his pontifical vestments, which were curiously embroidered with pomegranates in gold and scarlet and crimson. No Roman Catholic pontiff ever wore robes more resplendent than those in which the high priest was attired on public and state occasions. Immediately before him sat the scribes or clerks of the court. The one on his left hand wrote down whatever testimony was adduced against the accused; what votes were cast for his condemnation. The one on the right transcribed what appeared in his favor."[172] According to most writers, including Dr. Lyman Abbott, only two scribes were present having seats at each end of the semicircle. According to Benny, however, "three scribes were present; one was seated on the right, one on the left, the third in the center of the hall. The first recorded the names of the judges who voted for the acquittal of the accused and the arguments upon which the acquittal was grounded. The second noted the names of such as decided to condemn the prisoner and the reasons upon which the conviction was based. The third kept an account of both the preceding, so as to be able at any time to supply omissions or check inaccuracies in the memoranda of his brother reporters." The prisoner was placed in front of the high priest, in a conspicuous position, where he could see all and could be seen by all. Thus organized and arranged, the Sanhedrin began the work of the day. _Examination of Witnesses._--The examination of witnesses, who were also accusers, marked the beginning of proceedings. It is doubtful if the indictment against criminals was in writing. The first witness who was to testify was led into an adjoining room and solemnly warned. He was asked questions similar to the following: Is it not probable that your belief in the prisoner's guilt is derived from hearsay or circumstantial evidence? In forming your opinions concerning the guilt of the accused, have you or not been influenced by the remarks of persons whom you regard as reputable and trustworthy? Are you aware that you will be submitted to a most searching examination? Are you acquainted with the penalty attached to the crime of perjury? After this preliminary warning, conveyed in these questions, had been given, the most learned and venerable of the judges administered to the witness the following impressive adjuration: Forget not, O witness, that it is one thing to give evidence in a trial as to money, and another in a trial for life. In a money suit, if thy witness-bearing shall do wrong, money may repair that wrong. But in this trial for life, if thou sinnest, the blood of the accused, and the blood of his seed to the end of time, shall be imputed unto thee.... Therefore was Adam created one man and alone, to teach thee that if any witness shall destroy one soul out of Israel, he is held by the Scripture to be as if he had destroyed the world; and he who saves one such soul to be as if he had saved the world.... For a man from one signet-ring may strike off many impressions, and all of them shall be exactly alike. But He, the King of the kings of kings, He the Holy and the Blessed, has struck off from His type of the first man the forms of all men that shall live; yet so, that no one human being is wholly alike to any other. Wherefore let us think and believe that the whole world is created for a man such as he whose life hangs on thy words. But these ideas must not deter you from testifying from what you actually know. Scripture declares: "The witness who hath seen or known, and doth not tell, shall bear his iniquity." Nor must ye scruple about becoming the instrument of the alleged criminal's death. Remember the Scriptural maxim: "In the destruction of the wicked, there is joy." At the close of this solemn exhortation, the examination of the witness commenced. The Hakiroth, seven questions prescribed by law, touching the identity of the prisoner and fixing the elements of time and place, were asked. They were as follows: Was it during a year of jubilee? Was it an ordinary year? In what month? On what day of the month? At what hour? In what place? Do you identify this person? These questions being satisfactorily answered, the next step was a rigid examination into the facts and circumstances attending the commission of the crime and the connection of the accused therewith. This process of examination and cross-examination was termed the Bedikoth and embraced all questions not included in the Hakiroth which tended to establish the guilt or innocence of the prisoner at the bar. When the witnesses for the Commonwealth of Israel had been examined, witnesses for the defendant were heard. The accused was also urged to say anything he wished in his own behalf. As we have before pointed out, the Hakiroth questions as to time and place could be rebutted only by establishing an alibi against the witnesses for the state. If such an alibi was proved, the defendant was acquitted and at once discharged. A contributor to the "Jewish Encyclopedia," discussing this point of procedure, says: "It has been shown under Alibi how a 'set' of witnesses may be convicted as 'plotters' by another set or sets proving an alibi on them. But the opposite party may prove an alibi on the convicting set or in some other way show that the facts testified to by the first set were impossible or untrue. Under such circumstances, a modern judge or jury would weigh the credibility of the witnesses and the probability of their stories and decide between them accordingly. The sages did not trust themselves or their successors with this discretion. If there were no indicia or fraud, they held that as some one was evidently lying they could not decide which of them it was, and that there was no evidence on the point."[173] The result was an acquittal. If material contradictions in the testimony of the witnesses were shown by the Bedikoth, the trial was at once terminated and the accused was free. The failure of any witness to answer satisfactorily any of the seven questions above mentioned entitled the accused to immediate acquittal. Any material disagreement between the two or more witnesses required by the law in answer to any of these questions likewise entitled the prisoner to an immediate discharge. If the prosecuting witnesses relied upon documentary, circumstantial or hearsay evidence to convict, their testimony was at once rejected and the defendant was released. But if the accused failed to establish an alibi against the prosecuting witnesses in the matter of the Hakiroth; and if the Bedikoth developed evidence fairly consistent and uncontradictory; and if the testimony of the witnesses was purely oral, that is, was not documentary, hearsay or circumstantial, then there was legally admissible evidence to lay before the Sanhedrin. The competent witnesses who could render relevant testimony were then led, one at a time, before the general body and required to testify. _The Debates and Balloting of the Judges._--All the evidence, pro and con, having been adduced, the tribunal began a full discussion of the case, preliminary to casting ballots. Arguments could be begun only on behalf of the accused. Nothing was permitted to be said against him until one of the judges had urged something in his behalf, and had said: "As I view the matter, and according to such and such evidence, it seems to me that the prisoner should be acquitted." The discussion became general for and against the accused. The entire record was then overhauled. Each item of evidence was carefully considered and subjected to the minutest criticism. Contradictions were noted and extenuating facts pleaded. If one of the disciples occupying one of the three rows of seats could offer any cogent or valid reason why the prisoner should not be convicted, he was invited to take his seat among the judges, and was regarded as a member of the court during the remainder of the day. If his argument resulted in the acquittal of the accused and saved a human life he was made a permanent member of the court. On the other hand, if one of the disciples had anything to say that would tend to injure the defendant he was not permitted to raise his voice. When the entire case had been exhaustively discussed, the argument was closed and the balloting on the guilt or innocence of the accused commenced. The scribes were in readiness to record the votes and note the reasons assigned therefor. The youngest members of the tribunal were required to vote first, in order that they might not be unduly influenced by the example of their seniors in age and authority. The high priest, who was generally president of the Sanhedrin, addressed a gentle admonition to the youngest member, who was never less than forty years of age, to render a free and untrammeled verdict, and not to be awed or influenced by the patriarchs of the court. This admonition was repeated in the case of each youthful member of the tribunal. When the balloting commenced, each judge arose in his place and voted; at the same time making a short speech explanatory of his ballot. To secure a conviction it was not necessary that the members of the Sanhedrin should be unanimous. Indeed a peculiar rule of Hebrew law provided that if the verdict was instantaneous and unanimous it was invalid and could not stand. If the prisoner had not a single friend in court, the element of mercy was wanting in the verdict, said the ancient Hebrews, and the proceedings were regarded in the light of conspiracy and mob violence. A majority vote of at least two members was necessary to convict. A majority vote of one in his favor would acquit. Any majority amounting to two or more that did not reach unanimity was sufficient to condemn. If the accused was tried before a Minor Sanhedrin of three-and-twenty members or before the Great Sanhedrin with a bare quorum (twenty-three members, the same number as the full membership of a Minor Sanhedrin), a vote of thirteen members was necessary, in either case, to convict. If eleven judges were for conviction and twelve for acquittal, the prisoner was discharged at once; a majority of one vote being sufficient for that purpose. If twelve were in favor of conviction and eleven for acquittal, the condemnation of the accused was impossible; a majority of at least two being required to condemn. According to some writers, an acquittal was the result in such a case. According to others, in such a contingency the following novel expedient was employed to reach a verdict: From the first row of disciples two additional judges were selected and added to the original twenty-three members. Balloting then commenced anew. If the vote resulted in a majority of at least two against the prisoner, he stood convicted. If not, two more disciples were added from the first row in front and this process of increasing by twos the number of the Sanhedrin was continued until the requisite majority was secured. If it happened that the constant additions finally raised the number to seventy-one, the membership of the Great Sanhedrin, the process of increasing by twos was discontinued, and final balloting then began. If thirty-six voted for conviction and thirty-five for acquittal, the whole case was reargued for a reasonable time until one of the thirty-six yielded and declared in favor of acquittal. In case the thirty-six members persevered in their determination to convict, the prisoner was discharged. At any stage of the trial, from the beginning with the three-and-twenty judges through all the successive additions of new members, a majority vote of one or more in favor of the accused would acquit; a majority of two or more, not amounting to unanimity, would convict. In case of an acquittal the prisoner was immediately released and the trial was closed. In the event of conviction sentence could not be pronounced until the next afternoon and the session of the court was accordingly adjourned until the following day. Upon adjournment the members of the Sanhedrin with measured step and solemn mien left the chamber in which the trial had been conducted. Outside the judgment hall, in the open street, the judges formed themselves into groups or knots of five or six to discuss the trial and to lament the awful misfortune impending over Jerusalem; for such was the Hebrew conception of the execution of a son of Israel. The nucleus of each group was formed of elders of the Sanhedrin; the younger members came up from behind, leaned over between the shoulders of the patriarchs, and listened attentively and devoutly to what they were saying about the case. Gradually the groups broke up and the judges linked arm in arm, by twos, walked slowly homeward, still discussing the facts and arguments adduced at the trial. Finally they parted and retired to their respective homes. No heavy food, like meat, and no intoxicating beverage, were taken for the remainder of the day or during the night. Nothing was done that would incapacitate them for correct thinking. At sunset they began to make calls upon each other for the purpose of examining more carefully and debating more fully the issues of the case. When these visits were concluded, in the early evening, each judge retired to the privacy of his own home to sleep, meditate, and pray. At the dawn of day, they arose and prepared to resume again the solemn responsibilities of their office. The morning sacrifice was offered and the judges again assembled at sunrise in the hall of justice. They reseated themselves in the form of a semicircle; the prisoner was again led to the bar of the court; the witnesses were again produced; and the scribes, bringing with them the minutes of the former meeting, again took seats in their accustomed places. The second part of the trial then began. It must be remembered that there were two trials of every Hebrew capital case. The second day was not a trial _de novo_; but was a proceeding in the nature of an appeal and was intended to accomplish a review of the proceedings of the previous day. Additional testimony, however, which had been discovered after the close of the first trial, might be introduced. But the record of facts seems not to have been considered so important as the question of the fixed opinions of the judges. Each member of the Sanhedrin was required, on the second day, to vote again and to declare anew his notions concerning the guilt or innocence of the accused. The statements of each judge were carefully noted by the scribes and compared with his statements at the previous day. If any judge voted for conviction at the second trial and founded his judgment on reasons and arguments radically different from those of the first day, his verdict was rejected. A member who had voted for acquittal on the first day was not permitted to change his vote for conviction on the second day. But one who had voted for condemnation at the first trial, might, by giving valid reasons, vote on the second day for acquittal.[174] A most striking peculiarity of Hebrew law is to be noted in their method of counting votes and arriving at sums total in favor of or against the accused. Certain peculiar rules were to be strictly applied in determining the ultimate result. When upon examination of the record it was discovered that two or more judges had advanced identical arguments, though each supported his contention by different Biblical citations, their collective opinions were regarded as the common expression of a single mind and all their votes were counted only as one. Father and son, teacher and pupil, being members of the same court, counted also as one, provided their votes and opinions were arrayed on the same side, but not when they were placed in antagonism.[175] When the balloting was complete the number for and against the prisoner was again announced. If a majority of at least two votes were registered against him he stood convicted a second time. But the humane and indulgent spirit of Hebrew law continued to operate and deferred immediate sentence. The judges continued to deliberate. No one thought of quitting the judgment hall on the second day of the trial. No one ate anything, no one drank anything on this second day; for the day that was to condemn an Israelite to death was to be a fast day for those who condemned him. It was to be a day of prayerful meditation. Ancient maxims of the Fathers, framed for the protection of the accused, were reconsidered. All the merciful tendencies of Talmudic interpretation were invoked and pleaded by the judges, the defenders of the accused. It was hoped that a few hours' time would discover facts favorable to the doomed man. New arguments, it was thought, might be offered and new witnesses might be forthcoming in his behalf. As they continued to deliberate, the fatal hour approached. There was to be no thirty or sixty days, as in America, between sentence and execution, during which time the condemned man could make peace with God. The moment that saw the judgment finally pronounced witnessed the beginning of its execution. Sunset, Nature's symbol of the extinguishment of the light of life, was the time fixed for both. The death march and the final circumstances attending the execution of a Hebrew prisoner are without parallel in the jurisprudence of the world. As the culprit was led away to his doom, a man, carrying in his hand a flag, was stationed at the entrance of the Sanhedrin Hall. A mounted officer of the court followed the procession at a convenient distance and kept his eyes constantly turned in the direction of the flag bearer on the hill. A herald, carrying aloft a staff from which fluttered a crimson banner, made proclamation to the gazing multitude along the way that a human being was about to be executed. He cried aloud: "AB is to be put to death on the testimony of CD and XY, on such and such a charge. If any man knows anything favorable to the accused, in the name of God let him come forth and speak, in order that the prisoner may be led back to the Sanhedrin Hall to be again confronted and tried by his judges." If any witness, friend or stranger, came forth to furnish new evidence in favor of the condemned man, the procession was halted and the accused was led back to the Sanhedrin Chamber. If any member of the court still sitting in the hall of judgment bethought himself of any new argument in behalf of the accused that had not been offered at the trial, he arose quickly in his place and stated it to his fellow-judges. The flag at the gate was then waved and the mounted messenger, chosen for such an emergency, saw it waving and galloped forward to stop the execution. The culprit himself could delay or prevent the accomplishment of the death sentence if he could give to the Rabbins who escorted him any valid reason why he should not be put to death. He was led back as often as he gave any good excuse, not exceeding five times, the number prescribed by law. If no new witnesses appeared and if the prisoner made no further plea for life, the procession proceeded to within a short distance of the place of execution. The convict was then exhorted to declare himself guilty of the crime of which he was charged and to make full confession of all his sins. He was told that a full confession would entitle him to a happy existence beyond this life, since the flood of death would wash away all stains of sin and cleanse the soul of all the iniquities of existence in this world. If the condemned man still refused to confess that he was guilty of the crime with which he was charged, he was then urged to say: "May my death prove an atonement for all my transgressions." He was then led to the ground of execution. The death draught, consisting of a mixture of frankincense and myrrh, poured into a cup of vinegar or light wine, was then given him. Stupefaction followed, rendering the culprit unconscious of his impending doom and insensible to the agonies of death. In Jerusalem, this benumbing and stupefying mixture was furnished by the Hebrew women, whose tender and merciful regard for the wretched and unfortunate of earth has in all ages been a striking characteristic of the sex. As soon as the draught had been administered the execution took place. The prisoner was either stoned, strangled, burned, or beheaded, according to the nature of his crime. In case of blasphemy or idolatry the dead body was afterwards hung upon a gallows until dusk. But ordinarily the corpse was immediately interred after execution. On the outskirts of every town there were two graveyards for criminals; in one of these those who had been burned or stoned were buried; in the other were interred those who had been hanged or beheaded. As soon as decomposition had taken place--that is, when the flesh had decayed and fallen from the bones--the relatives were allowed to remove the skeleton and to deposit it in the family burial ground. Soon after the execution the friends and relatives of the dead man made friendly calls upon the judges who had tried and sentenced him. These visits were intended to show that the visitors harbored no feelings of bitterness or revenge against those who, in condemning one of their loved ones to death, had only performed the high and righteous duties of just and honorable judges of Israel. PART III _THE BRIEF_ [Illustration: THE LAST SUPPER (DA VINCI)] THE BRIEF A number of difficult and confusing questions present themselves at the very beginning of any extensive and impartial investigation of the trial of Jesus. Did the Great Sanhedrin exist at the time of Christ? If it existed, was it still a legally constituted court, having jurisdiction to try capital offenses? Did it have jurisdiction of the particular offense with which Jesus was charged? If the Great Sanhedrin was actually in existence, had criminal jurisdiction in capital cases, and was judicially empowered to try the offense with which Jesus was charged, did it actually try Him? Were the rules of criminal procedure, prescribed in the Mishna and cited in this Brief, in existence and actively in force in Judea at the time of the trial of Jesus? What was the nature of the charge brought against the Christ? Was He guilty as charged? Were forms of law duly observed in the trial of the accusation against Him? Answers to these questions, which will be considered in the Brief in the order above enumerated, will cover the legal aspects of the Hebrew trial of Jesus. _Did the Great Sanhedrin exist at the time of Christ?_ The answer to this question is of prime importance, since the existence of a court having jurisdiction of the person and subject matter of the suit is a fundamental consideration in all litigation. It is generally supposed that the Hebrew trial of Jesus took place before the Great Sanhedrin in Jerusalem. But many able writers, both Jewish and Gentile, deny that this court had any existence at the time of Christ. In the "Martyrdom of Jesus," Rabbi Wise says: "But this body did positively not exist at the time when Jesus was crucified, having been dissolved 30 A.C. In nowise, then, any passages of the Gospels must be understood to refer to the Great Sanhedrin." Many Jewish and several eminent Gentile authors agree with this contention, which is founded upon a passage in Josephus in which it is declared that King Herod had all the members of the Sanhedrin put to death.[176] It is contended by these writers that the supreme tribunal of the Jews was then abolished and was not restored until subsequent to the crucifixion. Opposed to this assertion, however, is the weight of both reason and authority. Schürer is of the opinion that Josephus did not mean literally "all" ([Greek: pantas]) when he wrote that Herod had destroyed all the members of the Great Sanhedrin; since in the following book he relates that the same king caused to be put to death the forty-five most prominent members of the party of Antigonus, who must themselves have been members of this court; and forty-five are twenty-six fewer than seventy-one, the full membership of the Great Sanhedrin.[177] The same author asserts the existence and discusses the jurisdiction of this court in the following language: "As regards the area over which the jurisdiction of the Great Sanhedrin extended, it has already been remarked above that its civil authority was restricted, in the time of Christ, to the eleven toparchies of Judea proper. And, accordingly, for this reason it had no judicial authority over Jesus Christ so long as He remained in Galilee. It was only as soon as He entered Judea that He came directly under its jurisdiction."[178] Again, Salvador, who may be justly styled the Jewish Blackstone, wrote concerning the condemnation of Jesus: "The _senate_ declared that Jesus, son of Joseph, born at Bethlehem, had profaned the name of God in usurping it for himself, a simple citizen. The capital sentence was then pronounced." Now, the word "senate" is properly applied nowhere in literature to any other Hebrew court than the Great Sanhedrin. This High Court of the Jews has been frequently compared to the senate of Rome, to the Areopagus of the Greek and to the parliament of England. It should be noted in this connection that the great Jewish writer not only styled the body that tried Jesus "senate" (Great Sanhedrin) but stated that it pronounced a capital sentence, thus declaring that the supreme tribunal of the Jews not only existed at the time of Jesus but had the right to decree capital punishment. Edersheim, discussing the alleged abolition of the Sanhedrin by Herod, says: "The Sanhedrin did exist during his reign, though it must have been shorn of all real power, and its activity confined to ecclesiastical or semi-ecclesiastical causes. We can well believe that neither Herod nor the procurators would wish to _abolish_ the Sanhedrin, but would leave to them the administration of justice, especially in all that might in any way be connected with purely religious questions. In short, the Sanhedrin would be accorded full jurisdiction in inferior and in religious matters; with the greatest show, but with the least amount of real rule or of supreme authority."[179] This is a powerful voice in favor of the existence of the supreme tribunal of the Jews at the time of Christ; for Edersheim's "Life and Times of Jesus the Messiah" is the best and most reliable biography of the Savior in any language. Keim bases his advocacy of the existence of the Sanhedrin at the time of Christ on New Testament authority. "Not only," he says, "does the New Testament speak of Synedria in the time of Jesus and the Apostles, but Jesus Himself, in a well-established utterance, mentions the Synedrion (Sanhedrin) as the highest legally constituted tribunal and as having the right to pass the sentence of death."[180] The strongest passage in the New Testament supporting the contention of the existence of the Great Sanhedrin at the time of the crucifixion is contained in Acts v. 21: "But the high priest came, and they that were with him, and called the _council_ together, and all the _senate_ of the children of Israel, and sent to the prison to have them brought." Here, the use of the words "high priest," "council," and "senate" in the same connection, strongly suggests, almost accurately describes, the president and members of the Great Sanhedrin; and besides, the words, "sent to the prison to have them brought," indicate that this body was exercising judicial functions. Again, the utterance of Jesus above referred to by Keim is found in two passages of Matthew. The first is in Chap. xvi. 21: "From that time forth began Jesus to shew unto His disciples, how that He must go unto Jerusalem, and suffer many things of the _elders_ and _chief priests_ and _scribes_, and be killed and be raised again the third day." The second is in Chap. xx. 18: "Behold, we go up to Jerusalem; and the Son of man shall be betrayed unto the chief priests and unto the scribes, and they shall condemn him to death." The "elders" and "chief priests" and "scribes" were the characteristic constituent elements of the Great Sanhedrin; and the prophecy, "they shall condemn him to death," ascribed to them the highest judicial prerogative, the right of passing the death sentence. In his brilliant essay on the Talmud, Emanuel Deutsch emphatically says: "Whenever the New Testament mentions the 'Priests, the Elders, and the Scribes' together, it means the Great Sanhedrin."[181] It is impossible to refrain from contrasting this statement of a most eminent and learned Jewish writer with that of Rabbi Wise, also very scholarly and pious, "In no wise, then, any passages of the Gospels must be considered to refer to the Great Sanhedrin." Suffice it to say that the weight of authority is with Emanuel Deutsch. And that which seems to conclusively disprove the whole theory of the nonexistence of the Great Sanhedrin at the date of the crucifixion, is the fact that Josephus--whose account of the alleged killing of all the members of the Sanhedrin by Herod is the very basis of the theory--in a subsequent chapter, relating to a subsequent event, describes the summoning of Hyrcanus, former king and high priest, before the Sanhedrin to be tried by them. As a result of the trial, Hyrcanus was put to death.[182] Such a personage could have been tried and condemned only by the Great Sanhedrin, which was in existence subsequent to the alleged destruction of all its members by Herod. It is believed that enough has been said to show that the contention that the Great Sanhedrin did not exist at the time of Christ is not well founded. As a matter of reason, the mere destruction of the members of the court by Herod did not, of necessity, abolish the court itself. From what we know of the character and policy of Herod, he simply had the members of an old and unfriendly aristocracy put to death in order that he might make room in the court for an entirely new body friendly to him and devoted to his interests. Again, it is entirely improbable that the Roman masters, of whom Herod was but a subject prince and tool, would have permitted the destruction of the most important local institution of a conquered state. The policy of the Romans in this regard is well known. Whenever it was consistent with the dignity and safety of the Roman empire, local institutions were allowed to remain intact and undisturbed. We are not aware of any good historical reason why the Great Sanhedrin, the national parliament, and the supreme tribunal of the Jews, should have been abolished thirty years before Christ, as Rabbi Wise and other eminent scholars and theologians have contended. After all, it seems to be more a matter of dogma than of history. The majority of Jewish writers rest their case upon Josephus, with their peculiar construction of the passage; the majority of Christian writers quite naturally prefer the New Testament. But the line is not closely drawn. Dr. Geikie, the eminent Gentile author, supports the Jewish opinion, without reference, however, to the passage in Josephus. On the other hand, Salvador, Edersheim, and Deutsch, all writers of Jewish blood, support the Christian contention. The assertion of Graetz that Jesus was arraigned before one of the Minor Sanhedrins,[183] of which there were two in Jerusalem, is not to be taken seriously, since these minor courts had no jurisdiction of the crime with which Jesus was charged.[184] It is very evident from the weight of authority that Jesus was tried before the Great Sanhedrin, and that this court had authority to pass sentence of death. Upon this theory, the author will proceed in framing the Brief. _Did the Great Sanhedrin have jurisdiction to try capital offenses at the time of the crucifixion?_ This question, involving great difficulty and much confusion in discussing the trial of Jesus, arises from the divergent opinions of Bible scholars as to the exact legal and political status of the Jews at the time of Christ. Many concede the existence of the Great Sanhedrin at this time, but insist that it had been shorn of its most important judicial attributes; that the right to try capital cases had been wholly taken from it; and that it retained the legal right to try only petty crimes and religious offenses not involving the death penalty. The Jews contend, and indeed the Talmud states that "forty years before the destruction of the Temple the judgment of capital causes was taken away from Israel." The great weight of authority, however, is registered against this view. The New Testament teachings on the subject have just been discussed in the beginning of the Brief. The opinion generally held by Bible scholars is that the Great Sanhedrin continued to exist after the Roman conquest of Judea and after the time of Herod; that its legislative, executive, and judicial powers remained substantially unimpaired in local matters pertaining to the internal affairs of the Jews; and that the Roman representatives intervened only when Roman interests required and the sovereignty of the Roman State demanded. The question of sovereignty presented itself, indeed, whenever the question of life and death arose; and Rome reserved to herself, in such cases, the prerogative of final judicial determination. Both Renan and Salvador hold the view that the Sanhedrin had the right of initiative, the _cognitio causæ_; that is, the right to try the case. In the event of the acquittal of the accused the matter was finally ended without Roman interference, but in case of conviction the Roman legate or procurator certainly might review and probably was required to review the matter, and either affirm or reverse the sentence. This is the prevalent opinion among the best writers; and is plausible because it is at once consistent with the idea of the maintenance of Roman sovereignty and of the preservation of the local government of the Jews. However, many able writers, among them Rosadi and Dupin, assert that the Jews had lost the right, by virtue of Roman conquest, even to try capital cases. And it must be admitted that the logic of law is in their favor, though the facts of history and the weight of authority are against them. _Did the Great Sanhedrin have jurisdiction of the particular offense with which Jesus was charged?_ Admitting the existence of the Great Sanhedrin at the time of Christ, and its right to initiate and try proceedings in capital cases with reference to Roman authority, had it jurisdiction, under Hebrew law, of the special accusation against Christ? On this point there is little difference of opinion. Jesus was brought before the Sanhedrin on the charges of sedition and blasphemy, both of which crimes came within the cognizance of the supreme tribunal of the Jews.[185] _Was there a regular legal trial of Jesus before the Great Sanhedrin?_ Admitting that this court was in existence at the time of Christ, that it had competence, with reference to Roman authority, to try capital cases, and that it had jurisdiction under Hebrew law of the crime with which Jesus was charged, did it actually conduct a regular, formal trial of the Christ? Many able critics give a negative answer to this inquiry. Jost, one of the greatest and most impartial of Jewish historians, designates the crucifixion of Jesus "a private murder (Privat-Mord) committed by burning enemies, not the sentence of a regularly constituted Sanhedrin."[186] Edersheim supports this view as to the nature of the trial.[187] A certain class of writers base their objection to a regular trial on the ground of the nonexistence of the Great Sanhedrin at the time of Christ. If this court did not exist, they say, there could not have been any regular judicial proceeding, since this body was the only Hebrew tribunal that had jurisdiction to try the offense with which Jesus was charged. Others, who hold similar views, maintain that the errors were so numerous and the proceedings so flagrant, according to the Gospel account, that there could have been no trial at all, and that it was simply the action of a mob. These writers contend that the members of the Sanhedrin acted more like a vigilance committee than a regularly organized tribunal. Of this opinion is Dr. Cunningham Geikie. Still another class of critics insist that the Hebrew judges exercised only accusatory functions, and that the examination of Jesus at night was merely preparatory to charges to be presented to Pilate. Others still apparently reverse the order, and insist that the Hebrew trial was the only one; that the duty of Pilate was merely to review, sanction, and countersign the verdict of the Sanhedrin. Of this class is Renan, who says: "The course which the priests had resolved to pursue in regard to Jesus was quite in conformity with the established law. The plan of the enemies of Jesus was to convict him, by the testimony of witnesses and by his own avowals, of blasphemy and of outrage against the Mosaic religion, to condemn him to death according to law, and then to get the condemnation sanctioned by Pilate."[188] Salvador and Stapfer agree with Renan that the Hebrew trial was regular and that the proceedings were legal. On the other hand, Rosadi, Dupin, Keim and many others denounce the proceedings in the trial of Jesus as outrageously illegal. As to the number of trials, the authorities above cited seem to be exceptions to the rule. By far the greater number contend that there were two distinct trials: a Hebrew and a Roman, separate and yet dependent. The opinion of this class of writers is most clearly expressed by Innes, who says: "Whether it was legitimate or not for the Jews to condemn for a capital crime on this occasion, they did so. Whether it was legitimate or not for Pilate to try over again an accused whom they had condemned, on this occasion, he did so. There were certainly two trials."[189] This is the view of the writer of these pages; and he has, accordingly, divided the general subject into two trials, devoting a volume of the work to each. It may be answered, then, that there was a regular trial of Jesus before the Great Sanhedrin. The relation of this trial to the Roman proceeding will be more fully discussed in the second volume of this treatise. _Were the rules of criminal procedure prescribed in the Mishna and cited in this Brief, in existence and actively in force in Judea at the time of the trial of Jesus?_ This question has been answered in the negative by several writers of repute. Others have answered that the matter is in doubt. But it is very generally agreed that an affirmative answer is the proper one. Out of this question, two others arise: (1) Were the rules of criminal law, herein cited, obsolete at the time of the crucifixion? (2) Were they the legal developments of an age subsequent to that great event? In either case, their citation, in this connection, is without reason or justification. It is a sufficient answer to the first of these questions that none of the standard works on Hebrew criminal law classes any of the rules herein stated as obsolete at the time of Christ. In support of a negative answer to this question, it may be urged that all of the aforesaid rules were the essential elements of an enlightened and humane criminal procedure in capital cases at the date of the crucifixion. The answer to the second question above suggested is a more serious matter. It is historically true that the Mishna was not reduced to writing until two hundred years after the beginning of our era. The Jerusalem Talmud was not redacted until 390 A.D.; and the Babylonian Talmud, about 365-427 A.D. The question at once arises: Were the rules of criminal procedure, which we have herein invoked in the discussion of this case, the growth of the periods intervening between the crucifixion of Jesus and these dates? Two valid reasons give a negative answer to this question. In the first place, the criminal rules applied in the Brief are in nearly every case traceable to Mosaic provisions which were framed more than a thousand years before the trial of Jesus. In the second place, they could not have been the developments of a time subsequent to the crucifixion, because less than forty years, a single generation, intervened between that event and the fall of Jerusalem, which was followed by the destruction of Jewish nationality and the dispersion of the Jews. This short interval was a period of national decay and disintegration of the Jewish people and could not have been, under Roman domination, a formative period in legal matters. After the fall of Jerusalem, the additions and developments in Hebrew law were more a matter of commentary than of organic formation--more of Gemara than of Mosaic or Mishnic growth. The decided weight of authority, then, as well as the greater reason, is in favor of the proposition that the Hebrew criminal law had reached its full development and was still in active force at the time of which we write. _What was the nature of the charge brought against Christ at the trial before the Sanhedrin? Was He guilty as charged?_ The questions preceding these were secondary, though important. If the Great Sanhedrin did not exist at the time of Christ, we are forced to believe and admit that the men who arrested and examined Jesus at night were nothing more than an irresponsible rabble, acting without judicial authority or legal excuse. If it was without criminal jurisdiction, though in existence, we have erroneously spoken of a Hebrew trial. If the rules of criminal procedure which we have invoked were not in existence at the time of the crucifixion, we have proceeded upon a false hypothesis. Fortunately, the weight of authority, in every case, is so overwhelmingly in our favor, and our contention is, in each case, so well founded in reason, that we feel justified in now proceeding to a discussion of the real merits of the case, involved in answers to the questions: What was the nature of the charge or charges brought against Jesus at the Hebrew trial? Was He guilty as charged? The accusations against Christ were numerous, both in and out of court; and it will help to simplify matters and to arrive at a clear understanding, if, in the very beginning, the distinction be made and held in mind between _judicial_ and _extra-judicial_ charges. By judicial charges are meant those made at the time of the examination of Jesus by the Sanhedrin, assembled at night in the palace of Caiaphas. By extra-judicial charges are meant those made out of court at divers times and places in Jerusalem, Galilee, and elsewhere by the accusers of the Christ, and especially by the spies who dogged His footsteps during the last days of His ministry on earth. Ordinarily, it would be proper, in a work of this kind, to consider only charges made after the trial of the accused had begun, and jeopardy had attached. All others are extra-judicial and are entitled to only passing notice. It would be proper to omit them altogether, if they did not serve to throw much light upon the specific charges at the trial. An excellent summary of the extra-judicial charges brought against Jesus at various times in His career, is given in Abbott's "Jesus of Nazareth," p. 448: "It was charged that He was a preacher of turbulence and faction; that He flattered the poor and inveighed against the rich; that He denounced whole cities, as Capernaum, Bethsaida, Chorazin; that He gathered about Him a rabble of publicans, harlots, and drunkards, under a mere pretense of reforming them; that He subverted the laws and institutions of the Mosaic commonwealth, and substituted an unauthorized legislation of His own; that He disregarded not only all distinctions of society, but even those of religion, and commended the idolatrous Samaritan as of greater worth than the holy priest and pious Levite; that, though He pretended to work miracles, He had invariably refused to perform them in the presence and at the request of the Rabbis of the Church; that He had contemned the solemn sanctions of their holy religion, had sat down to eat with publicans and sinners with unwashen hands, had disregarded the obligations of the Sabbath, had attended the Jewish feasts with great irregularity or not at all, had declared that God could be worshiped in any other place as well as in His Holy Temple, had openly and violently interfered with its sacred services by driving away the cattle gathered there for sacrifice." These different charges were doubtless present in the minds and hearts of the members of the Sanhedrin at the time of the trial, and probably influenced their conduct and entered into their verdict. But only one or two of these accusations can be said to have any direct connection with the record in this case, and, consequently, can be only indirectly considered in discussing its merits. We come now to examine the actual charges made at the night trial before the Sanhedrin. The subsequent charges before Pilate have no place in this volume. A review of the proceedings at the time of the examination in the palace of Caiaphas reveals two distinct charges: one preferred by witnesses who had been summoned by the Sanhedrin, the other preferred by Caiaphas himself. First, according to Matthew, "At the last came two false witnesses, and said, This fellow said, I am able to destroy the temple of God, and to build it in three days."[190] The same testimony is thus reported by Mark: "And there arose certain, and bare false witness against him, saying, We heard him say, I will destroy this temple that is made with hands, and within three days, I will build another made without hands."[191] Luke and John do not discuss the night trial before the Sanhedrin, and therefore make no reference to the charges brought forward by the false witnesses. The second accusation made against Jesus is that by Caiaphas himself, who embodies his charge in the form of an oath or adjuration which he administered to the accused: "I adjure thee by the living God that thou tell us whether thou be the Christ, the Son of God." Then came the confession and condemnation. "Jesus said unto him, Thou hast said: nevertheless I say unto you, Hereafter shall ye see the Son of man sitting on the right hand of power, and coming in the clouds of heaven. Then the high priest rent his clothes, saying, He hath spoken _blasphemy_; what further need have we of witnesses? behold, now ye have heard his blasphemy. What think ye? They answered and said, He is guilty of death."[192] These few words of Scripture are the essential parts of the record of fact of the most awful trial in the history of the universe. An analysis of the evidence shows the existence of two distinct charges: that preferred by the false witnesses, accusing Jesus of sedition; and that of blasphemy made by Caiaphas himself. Concerning the testimony adduced in support of the first charge, Mark says: "For many bare false witness against him, but their witness agreed not together."[193] Now, we have seen that the concurrent testimony of at least two witnesses, agreeing in all essential details, was necessary to sustain a conviction under Hebrew law. If one witness against the accused contradicted any other witness against the accused, all were rejected. Under this rule of law, when "their witness agreed not together," according to Mark, the charge of sedition was abandoned, and the accusation of blasphemy then followed, which resulted in a confession and condemnation. Later on, in another place, we shall discuss the illegality of a double accusation, in the same breath and at the same trial. But at this point we have no further interest in the abandoned charge, except to say that the false witnesses, in their ignorance and blindness, failed to grasp the Master's allegorical language in reference to the destruction of the Temple. Their worldly-mindedness and purely physical conception of things centered their thoughts upon the Temple at Jerusalem, and gave a purely temporal and material interpretation to His words. "Forty and six years was this temple in building, and wilt thou rear it again in three days?"[194] This question asked by the original auditors, shows a total misconception of the true meaning of the language of Jesus. The spiritual allusion to the resurrection of His own body seems never to have penetrated their thoughts. Then, again, their general statement was, in effect, an absolute misrepresentation. By perverting His language, He was made to utter a deliberate threat against a national institution, around which clustered all the power, sanctity, and glory of the Hebrew people. He was made to threaten the destruction of the Temple at Jerusalem. But it is most reasonable to infer from the entire evidence as contained in the Sacred Writings that the words imputed to Jesus by the false witnesses were not those which He actually used. In reality, He did not say: "I _can destroy_," or "I _will destroy_"; but, simply, "_Destroy_." "Destroy this temple, and in three days I will raise it up."[195] This is evidently a purely hypothetical expression and is equivalent to "_Supposing you destroy this temple_." St. John, in whose presence, it seems, this language was used, correctly interprets the Savior's meaning when he says: "He spake of the temple of his body."[196] The evidence of the false witnesses was so contradictory that even wicked judges were forced to reject it and to conduct the prosecution on another charge. We come now to consider more closely the real accusation upon which Jesus was condemned to death. At first glance, there seems to be no difficulty in determining what this accusation was, since the Gospel record specifically mentions the crime of blasphemy. It was for this offense that Caiaphas pronounced judgment against Jesus with the unanimous approval of his fellow-judges. "Then the high priest rent his clothes and saith, What need we any further witnesses? ye have heard the _blasphemy_: what think ye? and they all condemned him to be guilty of death." But what had they heard that constituted blasphemy? Nothing more than His own confession that He was "the Christ, the Son of God." This seems simple enough upon its face; but a vast mass of acrimonious discussion has resulted from these few passages of the Scripture. The main difficulty turns upon the meaning of the word "blasphemy," as used by the high priest in passing condemnation upon Jesus. The facts adduced at the trial, or rather the facts suggested by the oath or adjuration addressed to Jesus, as to whether or not He was "Christ, the Son of God," did not, in the opinion of many, constitute blasphemy under the definition of that term given in the Mosaic Code and interpreted by the Rabbinic writers whose opinions have been embodied in commentaries upon the Mishna. Eminent Jewish writers have ridiculed the idea of attempting to make a case of blasphemy out of a mere claim of being a "Son of God." Rabbi Wise, in "The Martyrdom of Jesus," has very tersely stated the Jewish position on the subject. "Had Jesus maintained," he says, "before a body of Jewish lawyers to be the Son of God, they could not have found him guilty of blasphemy, because every Israelite had a perfect right to call himself a son of God, the law (Deut. xiv. 1) stating in unmistakable words, 'Ye are sons of the Lord, your God.' When Rabbi Judah advanced the opinion, 'If ye conduct yourselves like the sons of God, ye are; if not, not,' there was Rabbi Mair on hand to contradict him: 'In this or in that case, ye are the sons of the Lord your God.' No law, no precedent, and no fictitious case in the Bible or the rabbinical literature can be cited to make of this expression a case of blasphemy. The blasphemy law is in Leviticus (xxiv. 15-20), which ordains, 'If any man shall curse his God (i.e., by whatever name he may call his God), he shall bear his sin,' but the law has nothing to do with it, dictates no punishment, takes no cognizance thereof. 'But he who shall curse the name of Jehovah, he shall surely be put to death,' be the curser native or alien. Another blasphemy law exists not in the Pentateuch. The ancient Hebrews expounded this law, that none is guilty of blasphemy in the first degree, unless he curses God himself by the name of Jehovah; or, as Maimonides maintains, by the name Adonai. The penalty of death is only threatened in the first degree. The Mishna states expressly as the general law, 'The blasphemer is not guilty, unless he (in cursing the Deity) has mentioned the name itself' (of Jehovah or Adonai), so that there can be no doubt whatever that such was the law in Israel. It is clear that the statements made by Mark, in the name of Jesus, had nothing in the world to do with the blasphemy laws of the Jews."[197] Rabbi Wise was concededly an able and accomplished theologian; and in a general way the above extract states the truth. But it does not state the whole truth, and in one or two places is certainly erroneous. Leviticus xxiv. 15-20 is undoubtedly the blasphemy statute of the Mosaic Code. But Mr. Wise was assuredly wrong when he stated that "another blasphemy Law exists not in the Pentateuch." For, if this were a correct statement, other eminent Jewish authorities, as well as many Gentile authors, would be all at sea. Besides, the New Testament use of the word "blasphemy," in many places, would only serve to illustrate the dense ignorance of the Jews of the time of Jesus as to the meaning of the term, if the author of "The Martyrdom of Jesus" were right. In this connection, let us now consider another Jewish authority, as able and even more famous than the one just cited. In Salvador's celebrated treatise entitled "Histoire des Institutions de Moïse," he devotes a chapter to the question of the judgment and condemnation of Jesus. Touching the nature of the charge against Christ and the real cause of His conviction, he says: "But Jesus, in presenting new theories and in giving new forms to those already promulgated, speaks of himself as God; his disciples repeat it; and the subsequent events prove in the most satisfactory manner that they thus understood him. This was _shocking blasphemy_ in the eyes of the citizens: the law commands them to follow Jehovah alone, the only true God; not to believe in gods of flesh and bones, resembling men or women; neither to spare or listen to a prophet who, even doing miracles, should proclaim a new god, a god neither they nor their fathers had known. The question already raised among the people was this: Has Jesus become God? But the Senate having adjudged that Jesus, son of Joseph, born in Bethlehem, had profaned the name of God by usurping it to himself, a mere citizen, applied to him the law in the 13th Chapter of Deuteronomy and the 20th verse in Chapter 18, according to which every prophet, even he who works miracles, must be punished when he speaks of a god unknown to the Jews and their fathers: the capital sentence was pronounced." Here we have the doctors divided; Wise saying that "another blasphemy law exists not in the Pentateuch," and Salvador contending that Jesus was legally convicted of blasphemy under the Mosaic Law as it was laid down, not in Leviticus xxiv. 15-20, but in Deuteronomy xiii. The law in Deuteronomy is peculiarly impressive in its relationship to the charges against Jesus. "If there arise among you a prophet, or a dreamer of dreams, and giveth thee a sign or a wonder, And the sign or the wonder come to pass, whereof he spake unto thee, saying, Let us go after other gods, which thou hast not known, and let us serve them; Thou shalt not hearken unto the words of that prophet, or that dreamer of dreams: for the Lord your God proveth you, to know whether ye love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul. Ye shall walk after the Lord your God, and fear Him, and keep His commandments, and obey His voice, and ye shall serve Him, and cleave unto Him. And that prophet, or that dreamer of dreams, shall be put to death; because he hath spoken to turn you away from the Lord your God, which brought you out of the land of Egypt and redeemed you out of the house of bondage, to thrust thee out of the way which the Lord thy God commanded thee to walk in."[198] The position of Rabbi Wise cannot be defended by trying to identify this passage with the one in Leviticus. The law in Deuteronomy has reference to that form of blasphemy which is nearly identical with idolatry, that is, seducing the people from their allegiance to Jehovah, and inducing them to go off after strange gods. The law in Leviticus applies peculiarly to profane epithets and to curses hurled at Jehovah Himself. Again, Rabbi Wise ridicules the notion that Caiaphas and the Sanhedrists attempted to twist the use of the words "Son of God" into a crime. He is right when, quoting Deuteronomy xiv. 1, he says that "every Israelite had a perfect right to call himself a son of God." But here again the eminent theologian has stopped short of the entire truth. It is not at all probable that he would have contended that "every Israelite had a perfect right to call himself the son of God" in the sense of being equal with God Himself. Should reply be made that such would be an unwarranted construction of Christ's confession that he was "the Christ, the Son of God," then the opinion of Salvador would be again invoked. In a note to the "Jugement de Jesus," he says: "I repeat that the expression 'Son of God' includes here the idea of God Himself." We are not in a position, nearly two thousand years after the event occurred, to tell exactly what was in the mind of Caiaphas at the time. But, in view of the condemnation which he passed, and of the language which he used in passing it, we are certainly justified in supposing that he deliberately and designedly connected the two titles--"the Christ" and "the Son of God"--to see if Jesus would assume responsibility for both, or if He would content himself with the simple appellation, "son of God," to which every pious Israelite was entitled. The reply of Jesus, "Thou hast said," meaning "I am" the Christ, the Son of God, was an affirmation of His identity with the Father. The condemnation for blasphemy immediately followed. Such a sentence would have been inconsistent with any other theory than the assumption that Jesus had claimed equality with God, or had arrogated to Himself power and authority which belonged alone to Jehovah. This definition of blasphemy is certainly different from that laid down in Leviticus xxiv. 15-20. As a matter of history, it is really true that both the Old and New Testaments reveal not only the existence of more than one blasphemy statute in the Mosaic Code, but also more than one conception and definition of blasphemy at different periods in the development of the Hebrew people. In II Samuel xii. 14 the word "blaspheme" is used in the sense "to despise Judaism." In I Macc. ii. 6 blasphemy means "idolatry." In Job ii. 5; II Kings xix. 4-6; Hosea vii. 16, the term indicates "reproach," "derision." Not only might God be blasphemed, but the king also, as his representative. The indictment against Naboth was: "Thou didst blaspheme God and the king."[199] The people of Jehovah and his Holy Land might also become victims of blasphemy.[200] The New Testament writers frequently charge the Jews with blaspheming Jesus, when they use insulting language toward Him, or deny to Him the credit that is His due.[201] In Revelation, St. John tells that he "saw a beast rise up out of the sea, having seven heads and ten horns, and upon his horns ten crowns, and upon his heads the name of blasphemy. And he opened his mouth in blasphemy against God, to blaspheme his name, and his tabernacles, and them that dwell in heaven."[202] This beast was the symbolical Antichrist, and his blasphemy was simply the treasonable opposition of the antichristian world to God and His kingdom. A comprehensive meaning of "blasphemy," in the various senses above suggested, is conveyed by the definition of the term "treason" under the governments of Gentile commonwealths. A single statute, 25 Edw. iii. c. 2, defines seven different ways of committing treason against the king of England.[203] The _lex Julia majestatis_, promulgated by Augustus Cæsar, was a single statute which comprehended all the ancient laws that had previously been enacted to punish transgressors against the Roman State.[204] There was no particular statute, as Rabbi Wise would have us believe, among the ancient Hebrews, that defined all forms of blasphemy against Jehovah. But a very clear notion of the various phases of blasphemy may be had if we will keep in mind the various definitions of treason under modern law. It should not be forgotten that the ancient Hebrew Commonwealth was a pure theocracy; that Jehovah was king; that priests, prophets, and people were merely the subjects and servants of this king; that its government and its institutions were the products of his brain; and that the destinies of the people of Israel, the "chosen seed," were absolutely in his keeping and subject to his divine direction and control. It should also be remembered that the God of Israel was a most jealous God; that the greatest irritant of His wrath was any encroachment upon His rights as ruler of men and creator of the universe; that for the protection of His sovereignty, He had proclaimed to His people through His servant Moses the most stringent statutes against any profanation of His name or disloyalty to His person. The Decalogue was the great charter of Jehovah for the government of His children. The first three commandments were special statutes intended to excite their gratitude and insure their attachment. He reminds them of the circumstances of their deliverance, and warns them, under severe penalty, against going off after strange gods. But, not content with these, He had still other statutes proclaimed, furnishing safeguards against idolatry and insuring loyalty to His person.[205] At the time of the establishment of the Hebrew theocracy, idolatry was everywhere to be found. Not only were the neighboring peoples worshipers of idols, but the Israelites themselves were prone to idolatry and to running off after strange gods. The worship of the Golden Calf is a familiar illustration of this truth. Thus the Commonwealth of Jehovah was threatened not only with idolatrous invasion from without but with idolatrous insurrection from within. Hence the severity of the measures adopted for the protection of His kingdom, His person, and His name, not only against idolaters but against necromancers, witches, sorcerers, and all persons who pretended to supernatural powers that did not proceed directly from Jehovah Himself. The enforcement of and obedience to these various statutes required an acknowledgment of the power and authority of Jehovah in every case where prophecies were foretold, wonders worked, and supernatural powers of any kind exhibited. And throughout the Sacred Scriptures, in both the Old and New Testaments, we find traces of the operation of this law. Sometimes it is an instance of obedience, as when Pharaoh wanted to credit Joseph with the power of interpreting dreams. "And Joseph answered Pharaoh, saying, It is not in _me_: God shall give Pharaoh an answer of peace."[206] At other times, it is an act of disobedience. To satisfy the thirsty multitude Moses smote the rock and brought forth water at Meribah. But instead of giving the Lord credit for the act, Moses claimed it for Aaron and himself, saying, "Hear now, ye rebels: must _we_ fetch you water out of this rock?" Whereupon Jehovah grew very angry and said to Moses and Aaron: "Because ye believe me not, to sanctify _me_ in the eyes of the children of Israel, therefore ye shall not bring this congregation into the land which I have given them."[207] As punishment for this blasphemous conduct, neither Moses nor Aaron was permitted to enter the Promised Land.[208] And that this omission to give due acknowledgment to the Lord for the miraculous flow of water was treasonable or blasphemous under the wider interpretation of the term, cannot be doubted. From the foregoing remarks it is clear that blasphemy among the ancient Hebrews was subject to a twofold classification: (1) A verbal renunciation and profane speaking of the name of Jehovah. To this kind of blasphemy the provision in Leviticus xxiv. 15-20 was applicable. This was blasphemy in its generally accepted but narrower and more restricted sense. This kind of blasphemy indicated a most depraved and malignant state of mind, and to secure a conviction it was necessary to show that the word "Jehovah" or "Adonai" had been pronounced. (2) "Every word or act, directly in derogation of the sovereignty of Jehovah, such as speaking in the name of another god, or omitting, on any occasion that required it, to give to Jehovah the honor due to His own name."[209] This form of blasphemy was nearly the same as treason under modern governments, and included all offenses that threatened the usurpation of the throne of Jehovah, the destruction of His institutions, and that withheld from Him due acknowledgment of His authority and authorship in all matters of miracle and prophecy. Returning to the trial in the palace of Caiaphas, let us again consider the question: Was Jesus guilty of blasphemy under any of the definitions above given? Had He ever cursed the name of Jehovah and thereby brought Himself within the condemnation of the law, as laid down in Leviticus xxiv. 15-20? Certainly not. Every word uttered by Him at the trial, as well as every other expression elsewhere uttered at any time or place, was said with reverence and awe and love in praise and glorification of the name and person of Jehovah. Rabbi Wise ridicules the notion that Jesus was ever tried upon the charge of blasphemy, because it is not recorded anywhere that He ever used any but tender and affectionate language in speaking of the Heavenly Father. Had Jesus blasphemed, in the sense of "despising Judaism," and thereby brought Himself within the purview of the rule as exemplified in II Sam. xii. 14? Certainly not. There is no record anywhere that He despised Judaism. Jesus revered both the Law and the Prophets. He claimed that He came to fulfill, not to destroy them.[210] He frequently denounced Pharisaic formalism and hypocrisy, but at the same time He was a most loyal Jew and a devoted son of Israel. Had He blasphemed by working wonders in His own name, and omitting to give Jehovah credit for them; and did He thereby bring Himself within the condemnation of the rule exemplified by Moses and Aaron in the matter of striking water from the rock at Meribah? We are forced to answer this question in the affirmative. If we regard Jesus as a mere man, a plain citizen, like Moses, the New Testament discloses many infractions of the Law in His prophecies and miracles. It is true that in John v. 19 it is said, "Verily, verily, I say unto you, The Son can do nothing of himself, but what he seeth the Father do." Here He affirmed that the power was from God and not from Himself. Again, having raised Lazarus from the dead, Jesus said, "Father, I thank thee that thou hast heard me,"[211] thus acknowledging the intervention of Jehovah in the performance of the miracle. In several other places He gave the Father credit for the act of the Son. But these were exceptions, isolated cases. The law required an express acknowledgment in every case of prophesy or miracle working. "Thus saith the Lord" was either the prologue or epilogue of every wonder-working performance. In all the miracles wrought by him in Egypt Moses had given due credit to Jehovah. But this was not enough. He was made an example for all time when he failed to make acknowledgment in the matter of striking the water from the rock. Now Jesus worked many miracles in no other name than His own, and in so doing brought Himself within the operation of the rule and of the precedent established in the case of Moses and Aaron. The curing of the bloody issue,[212] the stilling of the tempest,[213] the chasing of the devils into the sea,[214] the raising of Jairus' daughter,[215] and of the son of the widow of Nain[216] from the dead, were done without any mention of the power and guidance of Jehovah. But these transgressions were extra-judicial offenses and have been discussed merely as an introduction throwing light upon the specific charge at the trial, that Jesus had claimed to be "the Christ, the Son of God." The question of the high priest is meaningless, unless interpreted in the light of knowledge which we know the members of the Sanhedrin had regarding the wonder-working performances of the Christ. The failure of Jesus to acknowledge the power of Jehovah in working miracles might be interpreted as a tacit avowal that He Himself was Jehovah, and that therefore no acknowledgments were necessary. The silence itself was a proclamation of the divinity that was in Him, which placed Him above a law intended to govern the conduct of men like Moses and Aaron. We are now prepared to consider the final question: Had Jesus blasphemed, when He confessed to the high priest that He was "the Christ, the Son of God"? Had He blasphemed in that wider sense which Salvador has interpreted as being the Jewish notion of blasphemy at the time of Christ; that is, by claiming at once the attributes of the Messiah and the Son of God? Had He asserted an equality with God which looked to a usurpation of His power and the destruction of His throne; that is, did the confession of Jesus that He was "Christ, the Son of God," suggest a rivalry between Him and Jehovah which might result in the dethronement of the latter and the substitution of the former as the Lord and King and Ruler of Israel? Regarding Jesus as a mere man, a plain citizen, an affirmative answer to any one of these questions would convict Him of blasphemy, according to the Jewish interpretation of that term at the time of Christ; for the Hebrew Jehovah had repeatedly proclaimed that He was a jealous God, and that He would brook neither rivals nor associates in the government of His kingdom. That Jesus had more than once identified Himself with Jehovah, and had claimed divine attributes and powers; and that the Jews regarded all these pretenses as blasphemous, is evident, and can be ascertained from more than one passage of New Testament Scripture. On one occasion the Savior said to one sick of palsy: "Son, be of good cheer; thy sins be forgiven thee. And, behold, certain of the Scribes said within themselves, This _man_ blasphemeth."[217] According to Luke, they said: "Who is this man which speaketh blasphemies? Who can forgive sins but God alone?"[218] Here, according to the Scribes and Pharisees, Jesus had blasphemed by claiming the power which alone belonged to Jehovah, that of forgiving sins; or, at least, by exercising a supernatural power without acknowledging the authorship and guidance of the Almighty. It should be remembered that in this instance of alleged blasphemy Jesus had not remotely cursed or profaned the name of Jehovah; but, according to Jewish notions of the times, had exercised a prerogative, that of forgiving sins, which belonged solely to Jehovah, without giving credit. Again, we read this passage in the New Testament: "Therefore Jews sought the more to kill him, because he not only had broken the Sabbath, but said also that God was his father, making himself equal with God."[219] Here we see that the Jews of the days of Jesus, as well as Salvador in our own day, construed the claims of Jesus to be "the Christ, the Son of God," as an assertion of equality with Jehovah. Again, on another occasion, Jesus said emphatically: "I and my Father are one. Then the Jews took up stones again to stone him. Jesus answered them, Many good works have I shewed you from my Father; for which of those works do ye stone me? The Jews answered him, saying, For a good work, we stone thee not; but for blasphemy; and because that thou, being a man, makest thyself God."[220] Even before this bold declaration of His identity with Jehovah, He had intimated that He was of Heavenly origin and had enjoyed a divine preëxistence. He had declared that He was the "Bread which came down from Heaven,"[221] and that "Before Abraham was, I am."[222] The Jews regarded His statement that He had lived before Abraham as blasphemy, and "took up stones to cast at him," this being the usual punishment for blasphemous conduct. We have said enough to emphasize the point that there was another kind of blasphemy known to the Jews of the days of Jesus than that prescribed in Leviticus; and that the confession of being "Christ, the Son of God," as the Jews and Caiaphas interpreted the term, brought Jesus within the meaning of blasphemy, in its wider signification--that of assuming equality with God. The numerous illustrations above furnished were given to provide means of clear interpretation of the term blasphemy, as used in the condemnatory sentence of the high priest. For it is clearly evident that he and the other judges must have had many charges against Jesus in mind other than those that appear in the record of the trial. But we repeat, these extra-judicial charges must be considered only for purposes of correct interpretation and as a means of throwing light upon the actual proceedings in the night trial before the Sanhedrin. We further repeat that the New Testament furnishes abundant evidence that Jesus the man, the Jewish citizen, had, at divers times and places, committed blasphemy against Jehovah, under a strict interpretation of the law of God. Mr. Simon Greenleaf, the great Christian writer on the Law of Evidence and the Harmony of the Gospels, has thus tersely and admirably summarized the matter from the lawyer's point of view: "If we regard Jesus simply as a Jewish citizen, and with no higher character, this conviction seems substantially right in point of law, though the trial were not legal in all its forms. For, whether the accusation were founded on the first or the second command in the Decalogue, or on the law laid down in the thirteenth chapter of Deuteronomy, or on that in the eighteenth chapter and the twentieth verse, he had violated them all by assuming to himself powers belonging alone to Jehovah. It is not easy to perceive on what ground his conduct could have been defended before any tribunal, unless upon that of his superhuman character. No lawyer, it is conceived, would think of placing his defense upon any other basis."[223] But, at this point, the reader would do well to discriminate very carefully between certain matters touching the most vital features of the controversy. Certain well-defined distinctions must be observed, else an erroneous conclusion will inevitably follow. In the first place, proper limitations must be applied to the person and character of Jesus before it can be truthfully said that His conviction by the Sanhedrin was "substantially right in point of law." It must be remembered that, in this connection, Jesus is regarded merely as a man, "a Jewish citizen," to use Greenleaf's phrase. His divine character, as the only-begotten Son of God, as the Second Person of the Trinity, as the Savior of the human race, is not considered. But the reader may object, and with reason, that this is begging the question; and is therefore an inexcusable evasion; since the real issue before the Sanhedrin was this: Is Jesus God? And to strike the Godhead of Jesus from the discussion is to destroy the real issue, and to place the judgment of the Sanhedrin upon an irrelevant and immaterial basis. There is much truth in this contention, since it is clearly evident that if Jesus was actually God, "manifest in the flesh," He was not guilty; if He was not God, He was guilty. Fortunately for the purposes of this treatise, the legality or the illegality of the proceedings in the trial of Christ is not so much related to the question of substance as to that of form. Whether Jesus were God or not is a question involving His divinity, and is a problem peculiarly within the domain of the theologian. Whether legal rules were duly observed in the trial of Christ, were He man or God, is a question involving His civil rights, and belongs to the domain of the lawyer. Unless this distinction be recognized and held in mind, the treatment of this theme from a legal standpoint has no justification. This contention is all the more certainly true, since proof of the divinity of Jesus, a spiritual problem, would rest more upon the basis of religious consciousness and experience, than upon historical facts and logical inferences. The author of these volumes believes that Jesus was divine, and that if He was not divine, Divinity has not touched this globe. The writer bases his conviction of this fact upon the perfect purity, beauty, and sinlessness of Jesus; upon the overwhelming historical evidence of His resurrection from the dead, which event "may unhesitatingly be pronounced that best established in history";[224] as well as upon the evident impress of a divine hand upon genuine Christian civilization in every age. But the historic proofs of the divinity of Christ that have come down to us through twenty centuries were not before the Sanhedrin. A charitable Christian criticism will be slow in passing unmerciful judgment upon the members of that court for denying the claims of Jesus to identify with God, when His own disciples evidently failed to recognize them. The incidents of the Last Supper clearly prove that those who had been intimately associated with Him during three eventful years did not, at the close of His ministry, fully comprehend His character and appreciate His message and His mission.[225] Were comparative strangers to Him and His teachings expected to be more keenly discerning? After John had baptized Jesus in the Jordan and the Spirit of God, in the form of a dove, had descended upon Him, the Baptist seems to have had some doubts of the Messiahship of Christ and sent an embassy to Him to ask, "Art thou he that should come, or do we look for another?"[226] If the Forerunner of the Messiah did not know, are we justified in demanding perfect prescience and absolute infallibility of Caiaphas? The most perfect proof of the divinity of Jesus is the fact of His resurrection from the dead, attested by Matthew, Mark, Luke, John, Peter, James, and Paul. And yet, although He had frequently foretold to them that He would rise again, Jesus had to personally appear before them and submit to physical tests before they would believe that His prophecies had been fulfilled.[227] And it must be remembered that the great proof of His divinity, His resurrection from the dead, was not before Caiaphas and his colleagues at the time of the trial. The preceding suggestions and observations have not been made in order to excuse or palliate the conduct of the members of the Sanhedrin for their illegal conduct of the proceedings against Jesus. Under Point XI of the Brief we shall prove by Jewish testimony alone the utterly wicked and worthless character of these judges. Under Point XII we shall elaborate the proofs in favor of the Messiahship of Jesus and of His divine Sonship of the Father, as far as the scope of this work will permit. We have suggested above the perplexity of the members of the Sanhedrin and of the disciples of Jesus, concerning the divinity of the Nazarene, to illustrate to the reader how futile would be the task of attempting in a treatise of this kind to settle the question of the identity of Jesus with God, and thereby fix upon His judges in the palace of Caiaphas the odium of an unrighteous judgment. The question, after all, is one to be settled in the forum of conscience, illuminated by the light of history, and not at the bar of legal justice. But whether Jesus were man or God, or man-God, we are justified in passing upon the question of the violation of forms of law which He was entitled to have observed in the trial of His claims. And at this point we return to a consideration of the phrase, "substantially right in point of law." This language is not intended to convey the notion that Jesus was legally convicted. It means simply that the claim of equality with God by a plain Jewish citizen was, under Hebrew law, blasphemy; the crime which Caiaphas and the Sanhedrin believed that Jesus had confessed, and for which they condemned Him. Another distinction that must be made is that relating to the kind of law that is meant, when it is said that the conviction of Jesus was "substantially right in point of law." Ancient Hebrew law is meant, and as that law was interpreted from the standpoint of ancient Judaism. The policy and precepts of the New Dispensation inaugurated by Jesus can hardly be considered, in a legal sense, to have been binding upon Caiaphas and the Sanhedrin, since the very claims of Jesus to Messiahship and identity with God were to be tested by the provisions of the Mosaic Code and in the light of Hebrew prophecy. The Pentateuch, the Prophets, and the Talmud were the legal guides, then, of the judges of Israel in judicial proceedings at this time, and furnished rules for determining the genuineness of His pretensions. Mr. Greenleaf, the author of the phrase, "substantially right in point of law," asserts that the trial was not legal in all its forms, but he fails to enumerate the errors. The purpose of the Brief in this work is to name and discuss the errors and irregularities of the Hebrew trial, that is, the trial before the Sanhedrin. But the question may be asked: Why be guilty of the inconsistency of discussing illegalities, when admission has already been made that the decision was "substantially right in point of law"? The answer is that a distinction must be made between that which is popularly and historically known or believed to be true, and that which has not been or cannot be proved in a court of law. Every lawyer is familiar with this distinction. The court may know that the accused is guilty, the jury may know it, the attorneys may be perfectly sure of it, but if the verdict of guilt returned by the jury into court is not based upon testimony that came from the witness stand from witnesses who were under oath, and that had submitted to cross-examination, such verdict would hardly be sustained on appeal. In other words, the lives and liberties of alleged criminals must not be endangered by extra-judicial and incompetent testimony. A legal verdict can be rendered only when a regular trial has been had before a competent court, having jurisdiction of the crime charged, and after all legal rules have been observed which the constitution and the laws have provided as safeguards for the protection of the rights of both the people and the prisoner. However heinous the offense committed, no man is, legally speaking, a criminal, until he has been legally tried and declared a criminal. The presumption of innocence, a substantial legal right, is thrown around him from the very beginning, and continues in his favor until it is overthrown by competent and satisfactory evidence. Unless such evidence is furnished, under legal forms, no man, however morally guilty, can be denominated a criminal, in a juristic sense, in the face of the perpetual continuance of this presumption of innocence. If these rules and principles be applied to the trial of Jesus, either before the Sanhedrin or before Pilate, it can be easily demonstrated that while He might have been abstractly and historically guilty of the crime of blasphemy, in the wider acceptation of that term, He was not remotely a criminal, because He was never legally tried and convicted. In other words, his condemnation was not based upon a legal procedure that was in harmony with either the Mosaic Code or the Mishna. The pages of human history present no stronger case of judicial murder than the trial and crucifixion of Jesus of Nazareth, for the simple reason that all forms of law were outraged and trampled under foot in the proceedings instituted against Him. The errors were so numerous and the proceedings so flagrant that many have doubted the existence of a trial. Others have sought to attack the authenticity of the Gospel narratives and the veracity of the Gospel writers by pointing to the number of errors committed as evidence that no such proceedings ever took place. As Renan would say, this is a species of "naïve impudence," to assert that a trial was not had, because numerous errors are alleged; as if a Hebrew court could not either intentionally or unintentionally commit blunders and many of them. Every lawyer of extensive practice anywhere knows from experience that judges of great ability and exalted character conduct lengthy trials, in both civil and criminal cases, with the most painstaking care, and are aided by eminent counsel and good and honest jurors; the whole purpose of the proceedings being to reach a just and righteous verdict; and yet, on appeal, it is frequently held that not one but many errors have been committed. At this point, a few preliminary observations are necessary as a means of introduction to the discussion of errors. Certain elementary principles should be clearly understood at the outset. In the first place, an analysis of the word "case," used in a juristic sense, shows the existence of two cardinal judicial elements: the element called Fact, and the element called Law. And whether the advocate is preparing a pleading at his desk, is making a speech to the jury, or addressing himself to the court, these elements are ever present in his mind. He is continually asking these questions: What are the facts of this case? What is the law applicable to these facts? Do the facts and law meet, harmonize, blend, according to the latest decision of the court of last resort? If so, a case is made; otherwise, not. It is impossible to frame any legal argument upon any other basis than that of the agreement or nonagreement of law and fact, in a juristic sense; and upon this plan errors will be discussed and the Brief will be framed. In the second place, it must not be forgotten that, in matters of review on appeal, errors will not be presumed; that is, errors will not be considered that do not appeal affirmatively upon the record. The law will rather presume and the court will assume that what should have been done, has been done. In conformity with this principle, only such errors will be discussed in these pages that affirmatively appear in the New Testament Gospels which form the record in this case. By "affirmatively appear" is meant that the error is clearly apparent or may be reasonably inferred. In Part II of the preceding pages of this volume, Hebrew criminal law, which was actively in force at the time of Christ, was outlined and discussed. In Part I the Record of Fact was reviewed in the light of judicial rules. It is the present purpose, in Part III, to enumerate, in the form of a Brief, the errors committed by the Hebrew judges of Jesus, as the result of their failure to make the facts of their trial conform with the legal rules by which they were bound in all criminal proceedings where human life was at stake. The plan proposed is to announce successive errors in brief statements which will be designated "Points," in imitation of the New York method on appeal. Following the statement of error will be given a short synopsis of the law applicable to the point suggested. Then, finally, will follow the fact and argument necessary to elaboration and proof. Accordingly, in pursuance of this method, let us consider the points in order. POINT I THE ARREST OF JESUS WAS ILLEGAL LAW "Now the Jewish law prohibited _all proceedings by night_."--DUPIN, "Jesus Devant Caïphe et Pilate." "The testimony of an accomplice is not permissible by Rabbinic law both _propter affectum_ and _propter delictum_, and no man's _life_, nor his _liberty_, nor his _reputation_ can be endangered by the malice of one who has confessed himself a criminal."--MENDELSOHN, "Criminal Jurisprudence of the Ancient Hebrews," n. 274. "Thou shalt not go up and down as a talebearer among thy people: neither shalt thou stand against the blood of thy neighbor. Thou shalt not hate thy brother in thine heart: Thou shalt not avenge or bear any grudge against the children of thy people, but thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself."--LEVITICUS xix. 17, 18. FACT AND ARGUMENT The Bible record discloses three distinct elements of illegality in the arrest of Jesus: (1) The arrest took place at night in violation of Hebrew law; (2) it was effected through the agency of a traitor and informer, in violation of a provision in the Mosaic Code and of a Rabbinic rule based thereon; (3) it was not the result of a legal mandate from a court whose intentions were to conduct a legal trial for the purpose of reaching a righteous judgment. These elements of illegality will be apparent when the facts of the arrest are briefly stated. It was the 14th Nisan, according to the Jewish calendar; or April 6th, A.D. 30, according to our calendar. The Paschal Feast was at hand. The eyes of all Israel were centered upon the Metropolis of Judaism. From Judea, from Samaria, from Galilee and Perea, from all parts of the world where Jews were resident, pilgrims came streaming into the Holy City to be present at the great national festival. It was to be an occasion of prayer and thanksgiving, of sweet memories and happy reunions. Then and there offerings would be made and purifications obtained. In the great Temple, with its gorgeous ritual, Judaism was to offer its soul to Jehovah. The national and religious feelings of a divinely commissioned race were to be deeply stirred by memories that reminded them of the first, and by hopes that looked forward to the final great deliverance. It was probably in the home of Mark, on the outskirts of Jerusalem, that Jesus gathered with the Twelve, on the evening of this day, to eat the Paschal lamb. In the Upper Room, the sacred feast was spread and the little band were gathered. Only the genius of a da Vinci could do justice to that scene. There was Peter, hot-headed, impetuous, bravado-like. There was John, as gentle, pure-minded, and loving as a woman. There was Judas, mercenary, low-browed, and craven-hearted. There were others who, with Peter and John, were to have temples dedicated in their names. In their midst was the Master of them all, "God manifest in the flesh," who "with His pierced hands was to lift empires off their hinges, and turn the stream of centuries from its channel." No moment of history was so fraught with tragic interest for the human race. There the seal of the New Covenant was affixed, the bond of the new human spiritual alliance was made. The great law of love was proclaimed which was to regenerate and sanctify the world. "These things I command you, that ye love one another. And I have declared unto them thy name, and will declare it; that the love wherewith thou hast loved me, may be in them, and I in them." Thus the great law of love was to be the binding tie, not only among the little brotherhood there assembled but was to be the cementing bond between the regenerate of earth, the Mediator, and the great Father of love, Himself. There, too, was given the great example of humility which was to characterize true Christian piety throughout the ages. The pages of history record no other spectacle so thrilling and sublime, and at the same time tender and pathetic, as that afforded by the Paschal Meal, when Jesus, the Savior of men, the Son of God, the Maker of all the shining worlds, sank upon His knees to wash the feet of ignorant, simple-minded Galilean fishermen, in order that future ages might have at once a lesson and an example of that genuine humility which is the very life and soul of true religion. During the evening, a bitter anxiety, an awful melancholy, seized the devoted band, whose number, thirteen, even to-day inspires superstitious dread. In the midst of the apprehension the heart of the Master was so deeply wrung with agony that He turned to those about Him and said: "Verily, verily, I say unto you that one of you shall betray me." This prediction only intensified the sadness that had already begun to fall over the Sacred Meal and the loving disciples began to ask: "Lord, is it I?" Even the betrayer himself joined with the others, and, with inconceivable heartlessness and effrontery, asked: "Lord, is it I?" At the moment of greatest dread and consternation, Peter, bolder than the rest, leaned across the table and whispered to John, who was resting upon the bosom of Jesus, and suggested that he ask the Master who it was. Accordingly, John whispered and asked the Savior: "Lord, who is it?" "Jesus answered, He it is, to whom I shall give a sop, when I have dipped it. And when he had dipped the sop, he gave it to Judas Iscariot, the son of Simon. And after the sop Satan entered into him. Then said Jesus unto him, That thou doest, do quickly." Judas then arose from the feast and vanished from the room. When he was gone, the Master began to deliver to His "little children,"[228] to those who had loved and followed Him, those farewell words which St. John alone records, and that are so "rarely mixed of sadness and joys, and studded with mysteries as with emeralds." There, too, doubts and fears began to burst from the hearts and lips of the members of the little company. The knowledge that the gentle Jesus, whose ministry had thrilled and glorified their simple peasant lives, and promised to them crowns of glory in the world to come, was about to leave them, and in a most tragic way, filled them with solicitude and dread. Their anxiety manifested itself by frequent questioning which excites our wonder that men who had been with Him so long in the Apostolic ministry should have been so simple-minded and incredulous. "They said, therefore, What is this that he saith, A little while? We cannot tell what he saith." This verse is a simple illustration of the continued misapprehension, on this night, upon the part of the Apostles, of everything said by the Master. Peter was anxious to know why he could not follow the Lord. Thomas wanted to know the exact way, evidently failing to comprehend the figurative language of the Christ. Judas Lebbæus also had his doubts. He became muddled by mixing the purely spiritual with the physical powers of sight. "Lord, how is it," he asked, "that thou wilt manifest thyself to us and not to the world?" Philip of Bethsaida desired to see the Father. "Lord, show us the Father," he said, "and it sufficeth us." Philip seems to have been so dense that he had no appreciation of the spiritual attributes and invisible existence of the Father. It was thus that several hours were spent in celebrating the great Feast; in drinking wine; in eating the Paschal lamb, the unleavened bread, and the bitter herbs; in singing hymns, offering prayers, and performing the sacred rites; in delivering discourses which in every age have been the most precious treasures of Christians, and in expressing doubts and fears that have excited the astonishment and even the ridicule of the exacting and supercilious of all the centuries. At the approach of midnight, Jesus and the Eleven left the Upper Chamber of the little house and stepped out into the moonlight of a solemn Passover night. They began to wend their way toward the Kedron that separated them from the olive orchard on the Mount. Less than an hour's journey brought them to the Garden of Gethsemane. The word "Gethsemane" means "oil press." And this place doubtless derived its name from the fact that in it was located an oil press which was used to crush olives that grew abundantly on the trees that crowned the slopes. Whether it was a public garden or belonged to some friend of Jesus, we do not know, but certain it is that it was a holy place, a sanctuary of prayer, where the Man of Sorrows frequently retired to pray and commune with His Heavenly Father. At the gateway Jesus left eight of the Apostles and took with Him the other three: Peter, James, and John. These men seem to have been the best beloved of the Master. They were with Him at the raising of Jairus' daughter, at the Transfiguration on the Mount, and were now selected to be nearest Him in the hour of His agony. Proceeding with them a short distance, He suddenly stopped and exclaimed: "My soul is exceedingly sorrowful, even unto death: tarry ye here, and watch with me." Then, withdrawing Himself from them a stone's cast, He sank upon His knees and prayed; and in the agony of prayer great drops of sweat resembling blood rolled from His face and fell upon the ground. Rising from prayer, He returned to His disciples to find them asleep. Sorrow had overcame them and they were mercifully spared the tortures of the place and hour. Three times did He go away to pray, and as many times, upon His return, they were found asleep. The last time He came He said to them: "Rise, let us be going; behold he is at hand that doth betray me." At this moment were heard the noise and tramp of an advancing multitude. "Judas then, having received a band of men and officers from the chief priests and Pharisees, cometh thither with lanterns and torches and weapons." This midnight mob, led by Judas, was made up of Roman soldiers, the Temple guard, and stragglers from along the way. It is probable that the traitor walked ahead of the mob by several paces. "And forthwith he came to Jesus, and said, Hail, master, and kissed him and Jesus said unto him, Friend, wherefore art thou come? Then came they and laid hands on Jesus and took him." But the arrest was not accomplished without incidents of pathos and of passion. "Whom seek ye?" asked the Master. "Jesus of Nazareth," they answered. "I am he," replied the Savior. Then, dazed and bewildered, they fell backward upon the ground. "Then asked he them again, whom seek ye? and they said, Jesus of Nazareth. Jesus answered, I have told you that I am he: if, therefore, ye seek me, let these go their way." John says that this intercession for the disciples was to the end that prophecy might be fulfilled.[229] Doubtless so; but this was not all. Nowhere in sacred literature do we find such pointed testimony to the courage and manliness of Jesus. His tender solicitude for the members of the little band, for those who had quit their homes and callings to link their destinies with His, was here superbly illustrated. He knew that He was going to immediate condemnation and then to death, but He ardently desired that they should be spared to live. And for them He threw Himself into the breach. The furious and the passionate, as well as the tender and pathetic, mark the arrest in the garden. "Then Simon Peter having a sword drew it, and smote the high priest's servant, and cut off his right ear. The servant's name was Malchus." This was bloody proof of that fidelity which Peter loudly proclaimed at the banquet board, but which was soon to be swallowed up in craven flight and pusillanimous denial. "Then the band and the captain and officers of the Jews took Jesus, and bound him." At this point the arrest was complete, and we now return to the discussion of the illegalities connected with it. It was a well-established and inflexible rule of Hebrew law that proceedings in capital trials could not be had at night. This provision did not apply simply to the proceedings of the trial after the prisoner had been arraigned and the examination had been begun. We have it upon the authority of Dupin that it applied to the entire proceedings, from the arrest to the execution. The great French advocate explicitly states that the arrest was illegal because it was made at night.[230] Deference to this rule seems to have been shown in the arrest of Peter and John on another occasion. "And they laid hands upon them and put them in hold unto the next day: for it was now _eventide_."[231] That Jesus was arrested at night is clearly evident from the fact that those who captured Him bore "_lanterns_ and _torches_ and _weapons_." The employment of Judas by the Sanhedrin authorities constitutes the second element of illegality in the arrest. This wretched creature had been numbered among the Twelve, had been blessed and honored, not merely with discipleship but with apostleship, had himself been sent on holy missions by the Master, had been given the power to cast out devils, had been appointed by his Lord the keeper of the moneys of the Apostolic company, and, if Edersheim is to be believed, had occupied the seat of honor by the Master at the Last Supper.[232] This craven and cowardly Apostate was employed by the Sanhedrin Council to betray the Christ. It is clearly evident from the Scriptures that the arrest of Jesus would not have taken place on the occasion of the Passover, and therefore probably not at all, if Judas had not deserted and betrayed Him. The Savior had appeared and preached daily in the Temple, and every opportunity was offered to effect a legal arrest on legal charges with a view to a legal determination. But the enemies of Jesus did not want this. They were waiting to effect His capture in some out-of-the-way place, at the dead of night, when His friends could not defend Him and their murderous proceedings would not reach the eye and ear of the public. This could not be accomplished as long as His intimates were faithful to Him. It was, then, a joyful surprise to the members of the Sanhedrin when they learned that Judas was willing to betray his Master. "And when they heard it, they were glad, and promised to give him money." In modern jurisdictions, accomplice testimony has been and is allowed. The judicial authorities, however, have always regarded it with distrust, and we might say with deep-seated suspicion. At the common law in England a conviction for crime might rest upon the uncorroborated testimony of an accomplice, after the jury had been warned that such testimony was to be closely scrutinized. In the American States the testimony of an accomplice is admissible, but must be corroborated in order to sustain a conviction. This is the general rule. The weakness of such evidence is shown by the nature of the corroboration required by several states. In some of them the corroborating testimony must not only tend to prove the commission of the crime but must also tend to connect the defendant with such commission. Another evidence of the untrustworthiness of such testimony is that in several states an accomplice is not permitted to corroborate another accomplice, so as to satisfy the statutes.[233] The admission of such testimony seems to rest, in great measure, upon the supreme necessity of the preservation of the state, which is only possible when the punishment of crime is possible; and in very many instances it would be impossible to punish crime if guilty confederates were not allowed and even encouraged to give state's evidence. But notwithstanding this supreme consideration of the necessity of the preservation of the state, the ancient Hebrews forbade the use of accomplice testimony, as we have seen from the extract from "The Criminal Jurisprudence of the Ancient Hebrews," by Mendelsohn, cited on page 219. The arrest of Jesus was ordered upon the supposition that He was a criminal; this same supposition would have made Judas, who had aided, encouraged, and abetted Jesus in the propagation of His faith, an accomplice. If Judas was not an accomplice, Jesus was innocent, and His arrest was an outrage, and therefore illegal. The Hebrew law against accomplice testimony must have been derived, in part at least, from the following rule laid down in Leviticus xix. 16-18: "Thou shalt not go up and down as a talebearer among thy people: neither shall thou stand against the blood of thy neighbor. Thou shalt not hate thy brother in thine heart: Thou shalt not avenge, or bear any grudge against the children of thy people, but thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself." It may be objected that this is only a moral injunction and not a legal rule; to which reply must be made that there was no difference between morality and law among the ancient Hebrews. Their religion was founded upon law, and their law upon religion. The two ideas of morality and law were inseparable. The ancient Hebrew religion was founded upon a contract of the strictest legal kind. The Abrahamic covenant, when properly interpreted, meant simply that Jehovah had agreed with the children of Israel that if they would obey the law as He gave it, they would be rewarded by Him. The force of this contention will be readily perceived when it is reflected that the Decalogue is nothing but ten moral injunctions, which are nevertheless said to be the law which God gave to Moses. Every provision in the rule laid down in Leviticus is, moreover, directly applicable to the character and conduct of Judas, and seems to have been intended as a prophetic warning to him. Let us consider the different elements of this rule in order. "Thou shalt not go up and down as a talebearer among thy people." Was not Judas a talebearer among his people? Did he not go to the chief priests to betray his Master unto them? Was he not a "talebearer" if he did nothing more than communicate to the chief priests the whereabouts of the Savior, that Gethsemane was His accustomed place of prayer and that He might be found and arrested there at midnight? Are we not justified in supposing that Judas told the enemies of Jesus much more than this? Is it not reasonable to infer that the blood-money was paid to secure more evidence than that which would merely lead to the arrest of the Nazarene? Is it not probable that Judas detailed to the chief priests many events in the ministry of Jesus which, it is known, He communicated only to the Twelve? If he did these things, was he not a "talebearer" within the meaning of the rule? "Neither shalt thou stand against the blood of thy neighbor." Did not Judas stand against the blood of his nearest and dearest neighbor when he consented to be the chief instrument of an arrest which he knew would result in death? "Thou shalt not hate thy brother in thy heart." Is it possible to suppose that anything less than hatred could have induced Judas to betray the Christ? This question is important, for it involves a consideration of the real character of the betrayer and the main motive for the betrayal. Judas was from Kerioth in Judea and was the only Judean among the Twelve. Why Judas was selected as a member of the Apostolic company is too deep a mystery to be solved by the author of these pages. Besides, the consideration of the elements of predestination in his case is foreign to the purpose of this work. His character as a purely human agency is sufficient to answer the present design. Judas had undoubtedly demonstrated business capacity in some way before his appointment to the treasury portfolio of the little band. It cannot be doubted that greed was his besetting sin. This trait, coupled with political ambition, undoubtedly accounts for his downfall and destruction. He was one of those simple-minded, short-sighted individuals of his day who believed that a political upheaval was at hand which would result in the restoration of the independence of Israel as a separate kingdom. He believed that this result would be brought about through the agency of a temporal Messiah, an earthly deliverer of almost divine qualities. He thought at first that he saw in Jesus the person of the Messiah, and in the Apostolic band the nucleus of a revolution. He was gratified beyond measure at his appointment to the treasury position, for he felt sure that from it promotion was in sight. He was perfectly contented to carry for a while the "little bag," provided there was reasonable assurance that later on he would be permitted to carry a larger one. As the months and years rolled by, heavy scales began to fall from his stupid eyes and he began to be deceived not by but in Jesus. We are justified in believing that Judas never even remotely appreciated the spiritual grandeur of the Christ. He probably had intellect and soul enough to be charmed and fascinated by the lofty bearing and eloquent discourse of Jesus, but after all he perceived only the necessary qualifications of a great republican leader and successful revolutionist. And after a while he doubtless began to tire of all this when he saw that the revolution was not progressing and that there was no possibility of actual and solid results. It is probable that disaffection and treachery were born and began to grow in his mind and heart at Capernaum, when Jesus was deserted by many of His followers and was forced to effect a realignment along spiritual lines. Judas was not equal to the spiritual test, and it was doubtless then that the disintegration of his moral nature began, which stopped only with betrayal, infamy, and death. But by what process, we may ask, was the mercenary disposition of Judas converted into hatred against Jesus? The process was that of disappointment. When Judas became convinced that all the years of his connection with the Apostolic company had been lost, his will became embittered and his resentment was aroused. In the denseness of his ignorance and in the baseness of his soul he probably thought that Jesus had deceived His followers as to His true mission and he felt enraged because he had been duped. He had looked forward to worldly promotion and success. He had fondly hoped that the eloquence of Jesus would finally call around Him an invincible host of enthusiastic adherents who would raise the standard of revolt, drive the Romans from Judea, and establish the long-looked-for kingdom of the Jews. He had noted with deep disappointment and unutterable chagrin the failure of Jesus to proclaim Himself king when, at Bethphage, the multitude had greeted His entrance into Jerusalem with Hosannas and acclamations. And now, at the Last Supper, he became convinced from the conduct and discourses of the Master that his worst fears were true, that Jesus was sincere in His resolution to offer Himself as a sacrifice for the sake of a principle which he, Judas, did not approve because he could not understand. In other words, he witnessed in the resolve of Jesus to die at once the shipwreck of his hopes, and he made haste to vent his wrath upon the author of his disappointment. The writer agrees with Renan that the thirty pieces of silver were not the real or leading inducement to this black and monumental betrayal. Having taken the fatal step, by leaving the Upper Room in the home of Mark, to deliver his Lord and Master into the hands of enemies, a bitter hatred was formed at once against the innocent victim of his foul designs, on the well-known principle of human nature that we hate those who have induced us to do that which causes us to despise and hate ourselves. "Thou shalt not avenge or bear any grudge against the children of thy people." Where, in the annals of the universe, do we find another such case of vengeance and grudge as this of Judas against Jesus? "But thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself." This commandment of the Mosaic law was also the great commandment of the Master of Galilee, and in violating it by consenting to betray and sacrifice Jesus, Judas assaulted and destroyed in his own soul the cardinal principle of the two great religious dispensations of his race. And yet this informer, conspirator, and malefactor was employed by the chief priests in effecting the arrest of Jesus. Was not a fundamental rule of Mosaic law violated? Will it be urged that the rule operated against Judas but not against the chief priests? If so, it must be remembered that no wicked instrument could be used in promoting Hebrew justice. Officers of the law were not permitted to require a citizen to do an act which was forbidden by law. If Jesus was innocent, then the arrest was illegal. If He was guilty, then Judas, his Apostle and fellow-worker, was an accomplice; and no accomplice could be utilized in furtherance of justice, under Hebrew law, either in the matter of arrest or in the establishment of guilt as a witness at the trial. According to the Talmud, there was at least one seeming exception to this rule. Renan describes it with peculiar clearness and succinctness. "The procedure," he says, "against the 'corrupter' (mesith), who sought to attaint the purity of religion, is explained in the Talmud, with details, the naïve impudence of which provokes a smile. A judicial ambush is therein erected into an essential part of the examination of criminals. When a man was accused of being a 'corrupter,' two witnesses were suborned who were concealed behind a partition. It was arranged to bring the accused into a contiguous room, where he could be heard by these two witnesses without his perceiving them. Two candles were lighted near him, in order that it might be satisfactorily proved that the witnesses 'saw him.' (In criminal matters, eyewitnesses alone were admitted. Mishna, Sanhedrin VI, 5.) He was then made to repeat his blasphemy; next urged to retract it. If he persisted, the witnesses who had heard him conducted him to the Tribunal and he was stoned to death. The Talmud adds that this was the manner in which they treated Jesus; that he was condemned on the faith of two witnesses who had been suborned, and that the crime of 'corruption' is, moreover, the only one for which the witnesses are thus prepared."[234] Most Gentile writers ridicule this statement of the Talmud, and maintain that it was a Rabbinic invention of post-Apostolic days, and was intended to offer an excuse for the outrageous proceedings against the Christ. Schürer dismisses the whole proposition with contempt. Many Jewish scholars also refuse it the sanction of their authority. But even if it was a Talmudic rule of law in force at the time of Christ, its constitutionality, so to speak, might be questioned, in the first place; since it was, in spirit at least, repugnant to and subversive of the Mosaic provision in Leviticus cited above. It must not be forgotten that the Mosaic Code was the constitution, the fundamental law of Judaism, by which every Rabbinic interpretation and every legal innovation was to be tested. Again, such a law would have been no protection to the chief priests and to Judas against the operation of this Mosaic injunction. If such a rule of procedure could be justified upon any ground, it would require disinterested men acting from honorable motives, in promoting the maintenance of law and order. Officers of the law have sometimes, as pretended accomplices, acted in concert with criminals in order to secure and furnish evidence against them. But they were officers of the law, and the courts have held that their evidence was not accomplice testimony requiring corroboration. It is very clear that Judas was not such a disinterested witness, acting in the interest of public justice. He was a fugitive from the Last Supper of his Master, a talebearer within the meaning of the provision in Leviticus; and his employment by the Sanhedrin was a violation of a fundamental provision in the Mosaic Code. The third illegality in the arrest of Jesus was that His capture was not the result of a legal mandate from a court whose intentions were to conduct a legal trial for the purpose of reaching a righteous judgment. "This arrest," says Rosadi, "effected in the night between Thursday and Friday, the last day of the life of Jesus, on Nisan 14, according to the Hebrew calendar, was the execution of an illegal and factious resolution of the Sanhedrin. There was no idea of apprehending a citizen in order to try him upon a charge which after sincere and regular judgment might be found just or unfounded; the intention was simply to seize a man and do away with him. The arrest was not a preventive measure such as might lawfully precede trial and condemnation; it was an executive act, accomplished in view of a sentence to be pronounced without legal justification." POINT II THE PRIVATE EXAMINATION OF JESUS BEFORE ANNAS (OR CAIAPHAS) WAS ILLEGAL LAW "Now the Jewish law prohibited _all proceedings by night_."--DUPIN, "Jesus Devant Caïphe et Pilate." "Be not a sole judge, for there is no sole judge but One."--MISHNA, Pirke Aboth IV. 8. "A principle perpetually reproduced in the Hebrew scriptures relates to the two conditions of _publicity_ and liberty. An accused man was never subjected to private or secret examination, lest, in his perplexity, he furnish damaging testimony against himself."--SALVADOR, "Institutions de Moïse," pp. 365, 366. FACT AND ARGUMENT The private examination before Annas (or Caiaphas) was illegal for the following reasons: (1) The examination was conducted at night in violation of Hebrew law; (2) no judge or magistrate, sitting alone, could interrogate an accused judicially or sit in judgment upon his legal rights; (3) private preliminary examinations of accused persons were not allowed by Hebrew law. The general order of events following the arrest in the garden was this: (1) Jesus was first taken to the house of Annas; (2) after a brief delay He was sent by Annas to Caiaphas, the high priest, in whose palace the Sanhedrin, or a part thereof, had already assembled; (3) He was then brought before this body, tried and condemned; (4) He remained, during the rest of the night, in the high priest's palace, exposed to the insults and outrages of His keepers; and was finally and formally sentenced to death by the Sanhedrin which reconvened at the break of day. That Jesus was privately examined before His regular trial by the Sanhedrin is quite clear. But whether this preliminary examination took place before Annas or Caiaphas is not certainly known. John alone records the private interrogation of Jesus and he alone refers to Annas in a way to connect him with it. This Evangelist mentions that they "led him away to Annas first."[235] Matthew says that after the arrest of Jesus, they "led him away to Caiaphas the high priest,"[236] without mentioning the name of Annas. Mark tells us that "they led Jesus away to the high priest";[237] but he does not mention either Annas or Caiaphas. Luke records that they "took him, and led him, and brought him into the high priest's house,"[238] without telling us the name of the high priest. "The high priest then asked Jesus of his disciples and of his doctrine."[239] This was the beginning of the examination. But who was the examiner--Annas or Caiaphas? At first view we are inclined to declare that Caiaphas is meant, because he was undoubtedly high priest in that year. But Annas is also designated as high priest by Luke in several places.[240] In Acts iv. 6 he mentions Caiaphas without an official title, but calls Annas high priest. It is therefore not known to whom John refers when he says that the "high priest asked Jesus of his disciples and of his doctrine." For a lengthy discussion of this point, the reader is referred to Andrews's "Life of Our Lord," pp. 505-510. But it is absolutely immaterial, from a legal point of view, whether it was Annas or Caiaphas who examined Jesus, as the proceedings would be illegal in either case. For whether it was the one or the other, neither had the right to sit alone as judge; neither had the right to conduct any judicial proceeding at night; neither had the right to institute a secret preliminary examination by day or night. Attention has been called to the matter as involving a question of historical rather than of legal consequence. A knowledge of the true facts of the case might, however, throw light upon the order and connection of the proceedings which followed the same night. For if the private examination recorded by John was had before Annas, it was doubtless separated by a certain interval of place and time from the later proceedings before Caiaphas. Then it is reasonable to suppose that the examination of witnesses, the confession and condemnation which took place at the regular trial before the Sanhedrin over which Caiaphas presided, happened later in the night, or even toward morning, and were of the nature of a regular public trial. If, on the other hand, Annas sent Jesus without delay to Caiaphas, who examined Him, it is reasonable to conclude that witnesses were at once produced, and that the adjuration and condemnation immediately followed. If such were the case, a considerable interval of time must have intervened between these proceedings and the meeting of the Sanhedrin which was had in the morning to confirm the judgment which had been pronounced at the night session. But these considerations are really foreign to the question of legal errors involved, which we come now to discuss. [Illustration: JESUS IN GETHSEMANE (HOFFMAN)] In the first place, the private examination of Jesus, whether by Annas or Caiaphas, took place at night; and we have learned from Dupin that _all proceedings at night in capital cases_ were forbidden. In the second place, no judge or magistrate, sitting alone, could interrogate an accused person judicially or sit in judgment upon his legal rights. We have seen in Part II of this volume that the Hebrew system of courts and judges provided no single magistrates who, sitting alone, could adjudicate causes. The lowest Hebrew court consisted of three judges, sometimes called the Court of Three. The next highest tribunal was the Minor Sanhedrin of three-and-twenty members. The supreme tribunal of the Jews was the Great Sanhedrin of seventy-one members. There was no such thing among the ancient Hebrews as a court with a single judge. "Be not a sole judge, for there is no sole judge but One," is one of the most famous aphorisms of the Pirke Aboth. The reason of this rule is founded not only in a religious exaction born of the jealousy of Jehovah, but in the principle of publicity which provides for the accused, in the very number of judges, a public hearing. The same principle is suggested by the number of witnesses required by both the Mishna and Mosaic Code for the conviction of a prisoner. At least "two or three witnesses" were required to appear publicly and give testimony against the accused, else a conviction could not follow. Again, preliminary examinations of accused persons were not allowed by Hebrew law. In the American states and in some other countries, a man suspected of crime and against whom an information or complaint has been lodged, is frequently taken before an examining magistrate to determine whether he should be discharged, admitted to bail, or sent to prison to await the action of a Grand Jury. At such hearing, the prisoner is usually notified that he is at liberty to make a statement regarding the charge against him; that he need not do so unless he desires; but that if he does, his testimony may be subsequently used against him at the regular trial of the case. But such proceedings, according to Salvador, were forbidden by ancient Hebrew law. The preliminary examination, therefore, by Annas or Caiaphas was illegal. The reason of the rule, as above stated, was to protect the prisoner against furnishing evidence that might be used against him at the regular trial of his case. The private examination of Jesus illustrates the justice of the rule and the necessity of its existence, for it was undoubtedly the purpose of Annas or Caiaphas to gather material in advance to lay before the regularly assembled Sanhedrin and thereby expedite the proceedings at the expense of justice. If it be contended that the leading of Jesus to Annas first, which St. John alone relates, was merely intended to give the aged Sanhedrist an opportunity to see the prisoner who had been causing such commotion in the land for several years; and that there was no examination of Jesus before Annas--the interrogation by the high priest concerning the disciples and the doctrine of Jesus being construed to refer to an examination by Caiaphas, and being identical with the night trial referred to by Matthew and Mark--reply may be made that, under any construction of the case, there was at least an illegal appearance before Annas, as mere vulgar curiosity to see a celebrated prisoner was no excuse for the violation of the spirit if not the letter of the law. It is inconceivable, however, to suppose that Annas did not actually interrogate Jesus concerning His disciples, His doctrine, and His personal pretensions. To suppose that he demanded to see Jesus for no other reason than to get an impression of His looks, is to insult common sense. If Annas examined the prisoner, though only slightly, concerning matters affecting the charges against Him that might endanger His life or liberty, he had violated a very important rule of Hebrew criminal procedure. The question of the amount of examination of the accused is immaterial. It is not known whether Annas at this time sat in the Great Sanhedrin as a judge. He had been deposed from the high priesthood nearly twenty years before by the procurator Valerius Gratus, for imposing and executing capital sentences. But he was, nevertheless, still all-powerful in the great Council of the Jews. Edersheim says that though "deprived of the Pontificate, he still continued to preside over the Sanhedrin."[241] Andrews is of the opinion that "he did in fact hold some high official position, and this probably in connection with the Sanhedrin, perhaps as occasional president."[242] Basing his criticism upon the words in Luke, "Annas and Caiaphus being the high priests,"[243] Dr. Plummer believes "that between them they discharged the duties, or that each of them in different senses was regarded high priest, Annas _de jure_, and Caiaphas _de facto_."[244] This is a mere supposition, however, since there is no historical evidence that Annas was restored to the pontificate after his deposition by Valerius Gratus, A.D. 14.[245] The phrase, "Annas and Caiaphas being high priests," refers to the fifteenth year of the reign of Tiberius Cæsar, which was A.D. 26. After all, it is here again an historical more than a legal question, whether Annas was an official or not at the time of the appearance of Jesus before him. In either case his preliminary examination of the Christ was illegal. If he was a member of the Sanhedrin, the law forbade him to hold an informal preliminary examination at night. He certainly could not do this while sitting alone. If he was not a magistrate, as Dupin very properly contends, this fact only added to the seriousness of the illegality of subjecting a prisoner to the whimsical examination of a private citizen. Whether a member of the Sanhedrin or not, Annas was at the time of Christ and had been for many years its dominating spirit. He himself had been high priest. Caiaphas was his son-in-law, and was succeeded in the high priesthood by four sons of Annas. The writer does not believe that Annas had any legal connection with the Sanhedrin, but, like many American political bosses, exercised more authority than the man that held the office. He was simply the political tool of the Roman masters of Judea, and the members of the Sanhedrin were simply figureheads under his control. Again, the private examination of Jesus was marked by an act of brutality which Hebrew jurisprudence did not tolerate. This was not enumerated above as an error, because it was not probably a violation of any specific rule of law. But it was an outrage upon the Hebrew sense of justice and humanity which in its normal state was very pure and lofty. "The high priest then asked Jesus of his disciples and of his doctrine. Jesus answered him, I spake openly to the world; I ever taught in the Synagogue, and in the Temple, whither the Jews always resort; and in secret have I said nothing. Why askest thou me? ask them which heard me, what I have said unto them: behold, they know what I said." In this reply Jesus planted Himself squarely upon His legal rights as a Jewish citizen. "It was in every word the voice of pure Hebrew justice, founded upon the broad principle of their judicial procedure and recalling an unjust judge to the first duty of his great office." "And when he had thus spoken, one of the officers which stood by struck Jesus with the palm of his hand, saying, Answerest thou the high priest so?" Again the Nazarene appealed for protection to the procedure designed to safeguard the rights of the Hebrew prisoner. "Jesus answered him, If I have spoken evil, bear witness of the evil: but if well, why smitest thou me?"[246] We have seen that, under Hebrew law, the witnesses were the accusers, and their testimony was at once the indictment and the evidence. We have also seen that a Hebrew prisoner could not be compelled to testify against himself, and that his uncorroborated confession could not be made the basis of a conviction. "_Why askest thou me? ask them that heard me_, what I have said unto them." This was equivalent to asking: Do you demand that I incriminate myself when our law forbids such a thing? Why not call witnesses as the law requires? If I am an evil-doer, bear witness of the evil, that is, let witnesses testify to the wrongdoing, that I may be legally convicted. If I am not guilty of a crime, why am I thus maltreated? Is it possible to imagine a more pointed and pathetic appeal for justice and for the protection of the law against illegality and brutal treatment? This appeal for the production of legal testimony was not without its effect. Witnesses were soon forthcoming--not truthful witnesses, indeed--but witnesses nevertheless. And with the coming of these witnesses began the formal trial of the Christ, and a formal trial, under Hebrew law, could be commenced only by witnesses. POINT III THE INDICTMENT AGAINST JESUS WAS, IN FORM, ILLEGAL LAW "The entire criminal procedure of the Mosaic Code rests upon four rules: _certainty in the indictment_; publicity in the discussion; full freedom granted to the accused; and assurance against all dangers or errors of testimony."--SALVADOR, "Institutions de Moïse," p. 365. "_The Sanhedrin did not and could not originate charges_; it only investigated those brought before it."--EDERSHEIM, "Life and Times of Jesus the Messiah," vol. i. p. 309. "_The evidence of the leading witnesses constituted the charge._ There was no other charge: no more formal indictment. Until they spoke, and spoke in the public assembly, the prisoner was scarcely an accused man. When they spoke, and the evidence of the two agreed together, it formed the legal charge, libel, or indictment, as well as the evidence for its truth."--INNES, "The Trial of Jesus Christ," p. 41. "The only _prosecutors_ known to Talmudic criminal jurisprudence are the witnesses to the crime. Their duty is to bring the matter to the cognizance of the court, and to bear witness against the criminal. In capital cases, they are the legal executioners also. Of an official accuser or prosecutor there is nowhere any trace in the laws of the ancient Hebrews."--MENDELSOHN, "The Criminal Jurisprudence of the Ancient Hebrews," p. 110. FACT AND ARGUMENT The Gospel records disclose two distinct elements of illegality in the indictment against Jesus: (1) The accusation, at the trial, was twofold, vague, and indefinite, which Mosaic law forbade; (2) it was made, in part, by Caiaphas, the high priest, who was one of the judges of Jesus; while Hebrew law forbade any but leading witnesses to present the charge. A thorough understanding of Point III depends upon keeping clearly in mind certain well-defined elementary principles of law. In the first place, it should be remembered that in most modern jurisdictions an indictment is simply an accusation, carries with it no presumption of guilt, and has no evidentiary force. Its only function is to bring the charge against the prisoner before the court and jury, and to notify the accused of the nature of the accusation against him. But not so under the ancient Hebrew scheme of justice. Under that system there was no such body as the modern Grand Jury, and no committee of the Sanhedrin exercised similar accusatory functions. The leading witnesses, and they alone, presented charges. It follows then, of necessity, that the ancient Hebrew indictment, unlike the modern indictment, carried with it a certain presumption of guilt and had certain evidentiary force. This could not be otherwise, since the testimony of the leading witnesses was at once the indictment and the evidence offered to prove it. Again, in the very nature of things an indictment should, and under any enlightened system of jurisprudence, does clearly advise the accused of the exact nature of the charge against him. Under no other conditions would it be possible for a prisoner to prepare his defense. Most modern codes have sought to promote clearness and certainty in indictments by requiring the charging of only one crime in one indictment, and in language so clear and simple that the nature of the offense charged may be easily understood. Now Salvador says that "certainty in the indictment" was one of the cardinal rules upon which rested the entire criminal procedure of the Mosaic Code. Was this rule observed in framing the accusation against Jesus at the night trial before the Sanhedrin? If so, the Gospel records do not disclose the fact. It is very certain, indeed, that the learned of no age of the world since the crucifixion have been able to agree among themselves as to the exact nature of the indictment against the Christ. This subject was too exhaustively discussed in the beginning of the Brief to warrant lengthy treatment here. Suffice it to say that the record of the night trial before Caiaphas discloses two distinct charges: the charge of sedition--the threat to destroy a national institution and to seduce the people from their ancient allegiance, in the matter of the destruction of the Temple; and the charge of blasphemy preferred by Caiaphas himself in the adjuration which he administered to Jesus. When the false witnesses failed to agree, their contradictory testimony was rejected and the charge of sedition was abandoned. And before Jesus had time to answer the question concerning sedition, another distinct charge, that of blasphemy, was made in almost the same breath.[247] Did this procedure tend to promote "certainty in the indictment"? Did it not result in the complete destruction of all clearness and certainty? Are we not justified in supposing that the silence of Jesus in the presence of His accusers was at least partially attributable to His failure to comprehend the exact nature of the charges against Him? Again, the accusation was, in part, by Caiaphas, the high priest, who was also one of the judges of Jesus;[248] while Hebrew law forbade any but leading witnesses to present the charge. Edersheim tells us that "the Sanhedrin did not and could not originate charges; it only investigated those brought before it." If the Sanhedrin as a whole could not originate charges, because its members were judges, neither could any individual Sanhedrist do so. When the witnesses "agreed not together" in the matter of the charge of sedition, this accusation was abandoned. Caiaphas then deliberately assumed the rôle of accuser, in violation of the law, and charged Jesus, in the form of an adjuration, with blasphemy, in claiming to be "the Christ, the Son of God." Confession and condemnation then followed. Only leading witnesses could prefer criminal charges under Hebrew law. Caiaphas, being a judge, could not possibly be a witness; and could not, therefore, be an accuser. Therefore, the indictment against Jesus was illegally presented. The writer believes that the above is a correct interpretation of the nature and number of the charges brought against the Christ, and that the legal aspects of the case are as above stated. But candor and impartiality require consideration of another view. Several excellent writers have contended that there were, in fact, not two charges preferred against Jesus but only one under different forms. These writers contend that Caiaphas and his colleagues understood that Jesus claimed supernatural power and identity with God when He declared that He was _able_ to destroy the Temple and to build it again in three days,[249] and that the question of the high priest, "I adjure thee by the living God, that thou tell us whether thou be the Christ, the Son of God," flowed naturally from and had direct reference to the charge of being able to destroy the Temple. The advocates of this view appeal to the language of the original auditors to sustain their contention. "Forty-and-six years was this temple in building, and wilt thou rear it again in three days?" It is insisted that these words convey the idea that those who heard Jesus understood Him to mean that He had supernatural power. There is certainly much force in the contention but it fails to meet other difficulties. In the first place, it is not clear that a threat to destroy the Temple implied a claim to supernatural power; in which case there would be no connection between the first charge and that in which it was suggested that Jesus had claimed to be the Christ, the Son of God. In the second place, the contention that the two charges are substantially the same ignores the language of Mark, "But neither so did their witness agree together,"[250] which was certainly not injected by the author of the second Gospel as a matter of mere caprice or pastime. This language, legally interpreted, means that the testimony of the false witnesses, being contradictory, was thrown aside, and that the charge concerning the destruction of the Temple was abandoned. This is the opinion of Signor Rosadi and is very weighty. Those writers who maintain that there was only one charge, that of blasphemy, under different forms, rely upon the passage in Matthew, "I am _able_ to destroy the temple of God and to build it again in three days," and interpret it as a claim to supernatural power in the light of the language used by those who heard it: "Forty-and-six years was this temple in building, and wilt thou rear it again in three days?" Those who hold the opposite view, that there were two distinct charges, rely upon the passage in Mark, "I _will_ destroy this temple that is made with hands, and within three days I will build another made without hands," and interpret it in the light of a similar accusation against Stephen a few months afterwards: "For we have heard him say, that this Jesus of Nazareth _shall destroy this place_, and _shall change the customs_ which Moses delivered us."[251] This second interpretation, which we believe to be the better, establishes the existence at the trial of Christ of two distinct charges: that of sedition, based upon a threat to assault existing institutions; and that of blasphemy, founded upon the claim of equality with God. And, in the light of this interpretation, the illegality in the form of the indictment against Jesus has been urged. If the first construction be the true one, then the error alleged in Point III is not well founded, since the accusation was presented by witnesses, as the law required; unless it could be successfully urged that the witnesses, being _false_ witnesses, were no more competent to accuse a prisoner than to convict him upon their false testimony. In such a case the substance as well as the form of the indictment would be worthless, and the whole case would fall, through failure not only of competent testimony to convict but also of a legal indictment under which to prosecute. Neither the Mishna nor the Gemara mentions written indictments among the ancient Hebrews. "The Jewish Encyclopedia" says that accusations were probably in writing, but that it is not certain.[252] A passage in Salvador seems to indicate that they were in writing. "The papers in the case," he says, "were read, and the accusing witnesses were then called." "The papers" were probably none other than the indictment. But of this we are not sure, and cannot, therefore, predicate the allegation of an error upon it. From the whole context of the Scriptures, however, we are led to believe that only oral charges were preferred against Jesus. POINT IV THE PROCEEDINGS OF THE SANHEDRIN AGAINST JESUS WERE ILLEGAL BECAUSE THEY WERE CONDUCTED AT NIGHT LAW "Let a capital offence be tried during the day, but suspend it at night."--MISHNA, Sanhedrin IV. 1. "Criminal cases can be acted upon by the various courts during day time only, by the Lesser Synhedrions from the close of the morning service till noon, and by the Great Synhedrion till evening."--MENDELSOHN, "Criminal Jurisprudence of the Ancient Hebrews," p. 112. "The reason why the trial of a capital offense could not be held at night is because, as oral tradition says, the examination of such a charge is like the diagnosing of a wound--in either case a more thorough and searching examination can be made by daylight."--MAIMONIDES, Sanhedrin III. FACT AND ARGUMENT HEBREW jurisprudence positively forbade the trial of a capital case at night. The infraction of this rule involves the question of jurisdiction. A court without jurisdiction can pronounce no valid verdict or judgment. A court has no jurisdiction if it convenes and acts at a time forbidden by law. One is naturally disposed to deride the reason assigned by Maimonides for the existence of the law against criminal proceedings at night. But it should not be forgotten that in the olden days surgery had no such aids as are at hand to-day. Modern surgical apparatus had not been invented and electric lights and the Roentgen Rays were unknown. In the light of this explanation of the great Jewish philosopher the curious inquirer after the real meaning of things naturally asks why the Areopagus of Athens always held its sessions in the night and in the dark.[253] We have seen that Jesus was arrested in Gethsemane about midnight and that His first ecclesiastical trial took place between two and three o'clock in the morning.[254] St. Luke tells us that there was a daybreak meeting,[255] which was evidently intended to give a semblance of legality and regularity to that rule of Hebrew law that required two trials of the case. The exact time of the beginning of the night session of the Sanhedrin is not known. It is generally supposed that the arrest took place in the garden between midnight and one o'clock. The journey to the house of Annas must have required some little time. Where this house was located nobody knows. According to one tradition Annas owned a house on the Mount of Olives close to the booths or bazaars under the "Two Cedars." Stapfer believes that Jesus was taken to that place. According to another tradition the house of Annas was located on the "Hill of Evil Counsel." Barclay believes that this was the place to which Jesus was conducted. But the tradition which is most generally accepted is that which places the palace of Annas on Mount Zion near the palace of Caiaphas. It is believed by many that these two men, who were related, Annas being the father-in-law of Caiaphas, occupied different apartments in the same place. But these questions are mere matters of conjecture and have no real bearing upon the present discussion, except to show, in a general way, the length of time probably required to conduct Jesus from Gethsemane to Annas; from Annas to Caiaphas, if the latter was the one who privately examined Jesus; and thence to the meeting of the Sanhedrin. It is reasonable to suppose that at least two hours were thus consumed, which would bring Jesus to the palace of Caiaphas between two and three o'clock, if the arrest in the garden took place between twelve and one o'clock. But here, again, a difference of one or two hours would not affect the merit of the proposition stated in Point IV. For it is beyond dispute that the first trial before the Sanhedrin was had at night, which was forbidden by law. The question has been frequently asked: Why did the Sanhedrin meet at night in violation of law? The answer to this is referable to the treachery of Judas, to the fact that he "sought opportunity to betray him unto them in the absence of the multitude," and to the thought of the Master: "But this is your hour, and the power of God." Luke tells us that the members of the Sanhedrin "feared the people."[256] Mark informs us that they had resolved not to attempt the arrest and execution of Jesus at the time of the Passover, "lest there be an uproar of the people."[257] Jesus had taught daily in the Temple, and had furnished ample opportunity for a legal arrest with a view to a legal trial. But His enemies did not desire this. "The chief priests and scribes sought how they might take him by craft, and put him to death."[258] The arrival of Judas from the scene of the Last Supper with a proposition of immediate betrayal of the Christ was a glad surprise to Caiaphas and his friends. Immediate and decisive action was necessary. Not only the arrest but the trial and execution of Jesus must be accomplished with secrecy and dispatch. The greatest festival of the Jews had just commenced. Pilgrims to the feast were arriving from all parts of the Jewish kingdom. The friends and followers of Jesus were among them. His enemies had witnessed the remarkable demonstration in His honor which marked His entrance into Jerusalem only a few days before. It is not strange, then, that they "feared the people" in the matter of the summary and illegal proceedings which they had resolved to institute against Him. They knew that the daylight trial, under proper legal forms, with the friends of Jesus as witnesses, would upset their plans by resulting in His acquittal. They resolved, therefore, to act at once, even at the expense of all forms of justice. And it will be seen that this determination to arrest and try Jesus at night, in violation of law, became the parent of nearly every legal outrage that was committed against Him. The selection of the midnight hour for such a purpose resulted not merely in a technical infraction of law, but rendered it impossible to do justice either formally or substantially under rules of Hebrew criminal procedure. POINT V THE PROCEEDINGS OF THE SANHEDRIN AGAINST JESUS WERE ILLEGAL BECAUSE THE COURT CONVENED BEFORE THE OFFERING OF THE MORNING SACRIFICE LAW "The Sanhedrin sat from the close of the morning sacrifice to the time of the evening sacrifice."--TALMUD, Jerus., Sanhedrin I. fol. 19. "No session of the court could take place before the offering of the morning sacrifice."--MM. LÉMANN, "Jesus Before the Sanhedrin," p. 109. "Since the morning sacrifice was offered at the dawn of day, it was hardly possible for the Sanhedrin to assemble until the hour after that time."--MISHNA, "Tamid, or of the Perpetual Sacrifice," C. III. FACT AND ARGUMENT THE fact that the Sanhedrin convened before the offering of the morning sacrifice constitutes the fifth illegality. This error is alleged upon the authority of MM. Lémann, who, in their admirable little work entitled "Jesus Before the Sanhedrin," have called attention to it. It is very difficult, however, to determine whether this was a mere irregularity, or was what modern jurists would call a material error. From one point of view it seems to be merely a repetition of the rule forbidding the Sanhedrin to meet at night. The morning sacrifice was offered at the break of day and lasted about an hour. A session of the court before the morning sacrifice would, therefore, have been a meeting at night, which would have been an infringement of the law. But this was probably not the real reason of the rule. Its true meaning is doubtless to be found in the close connection that existed between the Hebrew law and the Hebrew religion. The constitution of the Hebrew Commonwealth was an emanation of the mind of Jehovah, the Temple in which the court met was His residence on earth, and the judges who formed the Great Sanhedrin were the administrators of His will. It is most reasonable, then, to suppose that an invocation, in sacrifice and prayer, of His guidance and authority would be the first step in any judicial proceedings conducted in His name. It is historically true that a session of the Sanhedrin in the palmiest days of the Jewish Commonwealth was characterized by all the religious solemnity of a service in the synagogue or the Temple. It is entirely probable, therefore, that the morning sacrifice was made by law an indispensable prerequisite to the assembling of the supreme tribunal of the Jews for the transaction of any serious business. On any other supposition the rules of law cited above would have no meaning. We have reason to believe, then, that the offering of the morning sacrifice was a condition precedent to the attachment of jurisdiction, and without jurisdiction the court had no authority to act. That the morning sacrifice was offered each day, whether the court assembled or not, as a religious requirement, does not alter the principle of law above enunciated. But it may be asked: How do we know that the morning sacrifice was not offered? The answer is that the whole context of the Scriptures relating to the trial shows that it could not have been offered. Furthermore, a simple and specific reason is that the time prescribed by law for conducting the morning service was between the dawn of day and sunrise. Then, if the court convened between two and three o'clock in the morning, it is very certain that the sacrifice had not been offered. It is true that there was a morning session of the Sanhedrin. But this was held simply to confirm the action of the night session at which Jesus had been condemned. In other words, the real trial was at night and was held before the performance of the religious ceremony, which was, in all probability, a prerequisite to the attachment of jurisdiction. POINT VI THE PROCEEDINGS AGAINST JESUS WERE ILLEGAL BECAUSE THEY WERE CONDUCTED ON THE DAY PRECEDING A JEWISH SABBATH; ALSO ON THE FIRST DAY OF THE FEAST OF UNLEAVENED BREAD AND THE EVE OF THE PASSOVER LAW "Court must not be held on the Sabbath, or any holy day."--"Betza, or of the Egg," Chap. V. No. 2. "They shall not judge on the eve of the Sabbath, nor on that of any festival."--MISHNA, Sanhedrin IV. 1. "No court of justice in Israel was permitted to hold sessions on the Sabbath or any of the seven Biblical holidays. In cases of capital crime, no trial could be commenced on Friday or the day previous to any holiday, because it was not lawful either to adjourn such cases longer than over night, or to continue them on the Sabbath or holiday."--RABBI WISE, "Martyrdom of Jesus," p. 67. FACT AND ARGUMENT NO Hebrew court could lawfully meet on a Sabbath or a feast day, or on a day preceding a Sabbath or a feast day. Concerning the Sabbath day provision Maimonides offers the following reason for the rule: "As it is required to execute the criminal immediately after the passing of the sentence, it would sometimes happen that the kindling of a fire would be necessary, as in the case of one condemned to be burned; and this act would be a violation of the law of the Sabbath, for it is written 'Ye shall kindle no fire in your habitations on the Sabbath day.'"[259] (Exodus xxxv. 3.) Under modern practice, sessions of court may be adjourned from day to day, or, if need be, from week to week. But under the Hebrew system of criminal procedure the court could not adjourn for a longer time than a single night. Its proceedings were, so to speak, continuous until final judgment. As the law forbade sessions of court on Sabbath and feast days, it became necessary to provide that courts should not convene on the day preceding a Sabbath or a feast day, in order to avoid either an illegal adjournment or an infringement of the rule relating to the Sabbath and feast days. Now Jesus was tried by the Sanhedrin on both a feast day and a day preceding the Sabbath. And, at this point, a clear conception of the ancient Jewish mode of reckoning time should be had. The Jewish day of twenty-four hours began at one sunset and ended with the next. But this interval was not divided into twenty-four parts or hours of equal and invariable length. Their day proper was an integral part of time and was reckoned from sunrise to sunset. Their night proper was likewise a distinct division of time and was measured from sunset to sunrise. An hour of time, according to modern reckoning, is invariably sixty minutes. But the ancient Jewish hour was not a fixed measure of time. It varied in length as each successive day and night varied in theirs at different seasons of the year. Neither did the Jews begin their days and nights as we do. Our day of twenty-four hours always begins at midnight. Their day of twenty-four hours always began at one sunset and ended with the next. Now Jesus was tried by the Sanhedrin on the 14th Nisan, according to the Jewish calendar; or between the evening of Thursday, April 6th, and the afternoon of Friday, April 7th, A.D. 30, according to our calendar. The 14th Nisan began at sunset on April 6th and lasted until sunset on April 7th. This was a single Jewish day, and within this time Jesus was tried and executed. According to our calendar, the trial and execution of Jesus took place on Friday, April 7th. This was the day preceding the Jewish Sabbath, which came on Saturday, according to our reckoning. And on a day preceding the Sabbath no Jewish court could lawfully convene. This is the first error suggested under Point VI. Again, it is beyond dispute that the Feast of Unleavened Bread had begun and that the Passover was at hand when Jesus was tried by the Sanhedrin.[260] This was in violation of a specific provision of Hebrew law, and constitutes the second error alleged under Point VI. There seems to be some conflict among the authorities as to whether Jesus was tried on the first day of the celebration of the feast of the Passover or on the day preceding. But the question is immaterial from a legal point of view, as the law forbade a trial either on a feast day or on the day preceding, for reasons above stated. This violation of the law relating to the Sabbaths and feast days, like that relating to night sessions of the Sanhedrin, resulted in still other errors. It is necessary to mention only one of these at this point. The proceedings of the Sanhedrin were recorded by two scribes or clerks. Their records were to be used on the second day of the trial in reviewing the proceedings of the first. But Hebrew law forbade any writing on a Sabbath or a holy day. How was it possible, then, to keep a record of the proceedings, if Jesus was tried on a Sabbath and also on a feast day, without violating a rule of law? If no minutes of the meeting were kept, a most glaring irregularity is apparent. POINT VII THE TRIAL OF JESUS WAS ILLEGAL BECAUSE IT WAS CONCLUDED WITHIN ONE DAY LAW "A criminal case resulting in the acquittal of the accused may terminate the same day on which the trial began. But if a sentence of death is to be pronounced, it can not be concluded before the following day."--MISHNA, Sanhedrin IV. 1. FACT AND ARGUMENT CARE and conservatism, precaution and delay, were the characteristic features of the criminal procedure of the ancient Hebrews. The principal aphorism of the Pirke Aboth is this: "_Be cautious and slow in judgment_, send forth many disciples, and _make a fence around the law._"[261] The length and seriousness of their deliberations in criminal proceedings of a capital nature were due to their supreme regard for human life. "Man's life belongs to God, and only according to the law of God may it be disposed of." "Whosoever preserves one worthy life is as meritorious as if he had preserved the world." These and similar maxims guided and controlled Hebrew judges in every capital trial. Their horror of death as the result of a judicial decree is shown by the celebrated saying: "The Sanhedrin which so often as once in seven years condemns a man to death, is a slaughter-house."[262] To assure due deliberation and reflection in a case where a human life was at stake, Hebrew law required that the trial should last at least two days, in case of the conviction of the accused. In case of an acquittal the trial might terminate within a single day. Before condemnation could be finally decreed a night had to intervene, during which time the judges could sleep, fast, meditate, and pray. At the close of the first day's trial they left the judgment hall and walked homeward, arm in arm, discussing the merits of the case. At sunset they began to make calls upon each other, again reviewing among themselves the facts in evidence. They then retired to their homes for further meditation. During the intervening night they abstained from eating heavy food and from drinking wine. They carefully avoided doing anything that would incapacitate them for correct thinking. On the following day they returned to the judgment hall and retried the case. The second trial was in the nature of a review and was intended to detect errors, if there were any, in the first trial.[263] It was not until the afternoon of this day that a final decree could be made and that a capital sentence could follow. Now the Gospel record very clearly discloses the fact that Jesus was arrested, tried, and executed within the limits of a single day. Neither the exact hour of His arrest, nor of His trial, nor of His execution is known. But it is positively certain that all took place between sunset, the beginning of Nisan 14, and sunset, the beginning of Nisan 15. This was the interval of a single Jewish day, Nisan 14. And within such an interval of time it was illegal to finally condemn a man to death under Hebrew law. Even Stapfer, who contends that the trial was legal and that forms of law were generally observed, admits this error. He asserts that the precipitate conduct of the members of the Sanhedrin was not only opposed to the spirit of Hebrew conservatism in the matter of criminal procedure but was a breach of a specific provision of the criminal code.[264] It is true that there were two distinct trials: one between 2 and 3 A.M., Friday, April 7th, which is recorded by Matthew[265] and Mark,[266] and a second about daybreak of the same day, recorded by Matthew,[267] Mark,[268] and Luke.[269] But both these trials were had within one day--indeed, within six hours of each other. The judges did not try the case and then retire to their homes for sleep, prayer, and meditation until the following day, as the law required. Even if they had done so, they would not have avoided an illegal procedure, inasmuch as the trial had been illegally begun on a feast day and the eve of the Sabbath, and it would have been impossible to avoid the error alleged in Point VII. For if they had deferred the sentencing and execution of Jesus until the following day it would still have been illegal, since the next day was both a Sabbath and a holy day (the Passover). Several writers who contend that there was a regular trial of Jesus assert that the morning meeting of the Sanhedrin was intended to give a semblance of legality and regularity to that rule of Hebrew law which required at least two trials. But it will readily be seen that this was a subterfuge and evasion, since both trials were had on the same day, whereas the law required them to be held on different days. POINT VIII THE SENTENCE OF CONDEMNATION PRONOUNCED AGAINST JESUS BY THE SANHEDRIN WAS ILLEGAL BECAUSE IT WAS FOUNDED UPON HIS UNCORROBORATED CONFESSION LAW "We have it as a fundamental principle of our jurisprudence that no one can bring an accusation against himself. Should a man make confession of guilt before a legally constituted tribunal, such confession is not to be used against him unless properly attested by two other witnesses."--MAIMONIDES, Sanhedrin IV. 2. "Not only is self-condemnation never extorted from the defendant by means of torture, but no attempt is ever made to lead him on to self-incrimination. Moreover, a voluntary confession on his part is not admitted in evidence, and therefore not competent to convict him, unless a legal number of witnesses minutely corroborate his self-accusation."--MENDELSOHN, "Criminal Jurisprudence of the Ancient Hebrews," p. 133. FACT AND ARGUMENT MORE than one system of jurisprudence has refused to permit a conviction for crime to rest upon an uncorroborated confession. But it remained for the ancient Hebrews to discover the peculiar reason for the rule, that the witness who confessed was "his own relative"; and relatives were not competent witnesses under Hebrew law. Modern Jewish writers, however, have assigned other reasons for the rule. Rabbi Wise says: "Self-accusation in cases of capital crime was worthless. For if not guilty he accuses himself of a falsehood; if guilty he is a wicked man, and no wicked man, according to Hebrew law, is permitted to testify, especially not in penal cases."[270] Mendelsohn says that "the reason assigned for this enactment is the wish to avoid the possibility of permitting judicial homicide on self-accusing lunatics, or on persons who, in desperation, wish to cut short their earthly existence, and to effect this falsely accuse themselves of some capital crime."[271] Modern jurists have assigned still other reasons for the rule as it has existed in modern law.[272] Men have been known to confess that they were guilty of one crime to avoid punishment for another. Morbid and vulgar sentimentality, such as love of newspaper notoriety, have induced persons of inferior intelligence, who were innocent, to assume responsibility for criminal acts. But whatever the reason of the rule, Jesus was condemned to death upon His uncorroborated confession, in violation of Hebrew law. "For many bare false witness against him, but their witness agreed not together. And there arose certain, and bare false witness against him, saying, We heard him say, I will destroy this temple that is made with hands, and within three days I will build another made without hands. But neither so did their witness agree together. And the high priest stood up in the midst, and asked Jesus, saying, Answerest thou nothing? what is it which these witness against thee? But he held his peace, and answered nothing. Again the high priest asked him, and said unto him, Art thou the Christ, the Son of the Blessed? And Jesus said, I am: and ye shall see the Son of Man sitting on the right hand of power, and coming in the clouds of Heaven. Then the high priest rent his clothes, and saith, What need we any further witnesses? ye have heard the blasphemy: what think ye? And they all condemned him to be guilty of death. And some began to spit on him, and to cover his face, and to buffet him, and to say unto him, Prophesy."[273] It will be seen from a perusal of this report of the trial that it was sought to condemn Jesus first on the charge of sedition, that is, that He had threatened the destruction of the Temple and thereby endeavored to seduce the people from their national allegiance. "But their witness agreed not together"; and under Hebrew law they were required to reject contradictory testimony and discharge the prisoner, if the state was unable to prove its case. This is what should have been done at this point in the trial of Jesus. But, instead, the judges, in their total disregard at law, turned to the accused and said: "Answerest thou nothing? what is it which these witness against thee?" "But he held his peace, and answered nothing." By remaining silent, Jesus only exercised the ordinary privilege of a Jewish prisoner to refuse to incriminate himself. The modern rule that the accused cannot be made to testify against himself, unless he first voluntarily takes the witness stand in his own behalf, was substantially true among the ancient Hebrews. But here we find Caiaphas insisting that Jesus incriminate Himself. And he continues to insist in the matter of the second charge, that of blasphemy. "And the high priest asked him, and said unto him, Art thou the Christ, the Son of the Blessed?" That question was illegal, because it involved an irregular mode of criminal procedure, and because it asked for a confession of guilt to be made the basis of a conviction. The false witnesses had failed to agree and had evidently been rejected and dismissed. The judges were then without witnesses to formulate a charge and furnish proof of its truth. They were thus forced to the despicable and illegal method of asking the accused to condemn Himself, when they knew that no confession could be made the basis of a conviction. They were also guilty of the illegality of formulating a charge without witnesses. We have seen that only leading witnesses could present an indictment, but here the judges became the accusers, in violation of law. In answer to the high priest's question, Jesus, feeling that He could not afford at such an hour and in such a place to longer conceal His Messiahship, answered boldly and emphatically: "I am."[274] "And they all condemned him to be guilty of death." It will thus be seen that upon His own confession and not upon the testimony of at least two competent witnesses agreeing in all essential details, as the law required, was the Nazarene condemned to death. If it be argued, as it has been, that the two charges of threatening to destroy the Temple and of pretending to be the "Christ, the Son of God," were in fact but different phases of the same charge of blasphemy, and that the two witnesses were the corroborators of the confession of Jesus, then reply must be made that the witnesses were not competent, being false witnesses, nor was their testimony legally corroborated, because it was false and contradictory. Again, it was the rule of Hebrew law that both witnesses had to testify to all the essential elements of a complete crime. One could not furnish one link, and another another link, in order to construct a chain of evidence. Each had to testify to all the essential elements necessary to constitute the legal definition of a crime. But the false witnesses did not do this. Under any view of the case, then, the testimony of these witnesses was wholly worthless, and the confession of Jesus was the solitary and illegal basis of His conviction. The failure of the Sanhedrin to secure sufficient and competent evidence to convict Jesus must not be regarded as accidental, or as attributable to the hour and to the surroundings. The popularity of the Nazarene, outside the narrow circle of the Temple authorities, was immense. The friendship of Nicodemus and Joseph of Arimathea is proof that He had standing even in the Sanhedrin itself. It was therefore difficult to find witnesses who were willing to testify against Him. Besides, the acts of His ministry, while in no sense cowardly or hypocritical, had been, in general, very cautious and diplomatic. He seems to have retired, at times, into the desert or the wilderness to avoid disagreeable and even dangerous complications with the civil and ecclesiastical authorities.[275] Jesus was in no sense a politician, but He was not lacking in mother wit and practical resources. He saw through the designs of Herod Antipas, who wished to get Him out of his dominions. It will be remembered that certain Pharisees, pretending friendship for Him, warned Him to flee from Galilee to avoid being killed by Herod. The courage and manliness of Jesus are shown by the fact that He remained in His native province, and even sent a contemptuous message to the Tetrarch, whom He styled "that fox."[276] At other times, Christ was compelled to defend Himself against the swarm of spies that hovered over His pathway through Samaria, along the Jordan, and around the Sea of Galilee. In His discussions with His enemies who sought to entrap Him, He displayed consummate skill in debate. His pithy sayings and incomparable illustrations usually left His questioners defenseless and chagrined. Oftentimes in these encounters He proclaimed eternal and universal truths which other nations and later ages were to develop and enjoy. When, holding in His hand a penny with Cæsar's image upon it, He said, "Render therefore unto Cæsar the things which are Cæsar's, and unto God the things that are God's," he foretold and stamped with approval the immortal principle that was to be embodied in the American constitution and to remain the cornerstone of the American Commonwealth; a truth repeated by Roger Williams when in the forests of Rhode Island he declared that the magistrate should rule in civil matters only and that man was answerable for his religious faith to God alone. This declaration of the Nazarene is the spiritual and intellectual basis of the sublime doctrine of civil liberty and religious freedom that finds its highest expression in that separation of the Church and State which enables men of different creeds and different parties to live side by side as patriots and religionists and as comrades, though antagonists. The replies of Jesus to those who came to "entangle him in his talk" usually left them disconcerted and defeated, and little disposed to renew their attacks upon Him.[277] The efforts of the Pharisees to entrap Him seem to have resulted in failure everywhere and at all times. And at the trial the Sanhedrin found itself in possession of a prisoner but with no competent evidence to establish His guilt. It was least of all prepared to convict Him of the crime of blasphemy as founded upon the claim of Messiahship, for Jesus had been exceedingly cautious, during His ministry, in declaring Himself to be the Messiah. Except in the presence of the woman of Samaria, who came to draw water from the well, there is no recorded instance of an avowal of His Messiahship outside the immediate circle of the disciples.[278] He forbade the devils whom He had cast out, and that recognized Him, to proclaim His Messiahship.[279] When the Jews said to Him, "How long dost thou make us doubt? if thou be the Christ, tell us plainly," Jesus simply referred them to His works, and made no further answer that could be used as testimony against Him.[280] He revealed Himself to His followers as the Messiah, and permitted them to confess Him as such, but forbade them to make the matter public. "Then charged he his disciples that they should tell no man that he was Jesus, the Christ."[281] It will thus be seen that probably no two witnesses who were legally competent to testify could have been secured to condemn Jesus upon the charge preferred at the trial. In their desperation, then, the members of the Sanhedrin were compelled to employ false testimony and a confession which was equally illegal. POINT IX THE CONDEMNATION OF JESUS WAS ILLEGAL BECAUSE THE VERDICT OF THE SANHEDRIN WAS UNANIMOUS LAW "A simultaneous and unanimous verdict of guilt rendered on the day of the trial has the effect of an acquittal."--MENDELSOHN, "Criminal Jurisprudence of the Ancient Hebrews," p. 141. "If none of the judges defend the culprit, i.e., all pronounce him guilty, having no defender in the court, the verdict of guilty was invalid and the sentence of death could not be executed."--RABBI WISE, "Martyrdom of Jesus," p. 74. FACT AND ARGUMENT FEW stranger rules can be found in the jurisprudence of the world than that provision of Hebrew law which forbade a conviction to rest upon the unanimous vote of the judges. A comparison instantaneously and almost inevitably arises in the mind between the Saxon and Hebrew requirement in the matter of unanimity in the verdict. The finest form of mind of antiquity, with the possible exception of the Greek and Roman, was the Hebrew. One of the finest types of intellect of the modern world is that of the Anglo-Saxon. The Hebrew organized the Sanhedrin, and, under God, endowed it with judicial and spiritual attributes. The Anglo-Saxon, on the shores of the German Ocean, originated the modern jury and invested it with its distinctive legal traits. With the Anglo-Saxon jury a unanimous verdict is necessary to convict, but with the Hebrew Sanhedrin unanimity was fatal, and resulted in an acquittal. A great modern writer[282] has declared that law is the perfection of reason. But when we contemplate the differences in Hebrew and Saxon laws we are inclined to ask, in seeking the degree of perfection, whose law and whose reason? But, after all, the Jewish rule is not so unreasonable as it first appears, when we come to consider the reason of its origin. In the first place, as we have seen in Part II, there were no lawyers or advocates, in the modern sense, among the ancient Hebrews. The judges were his defenders. Now if the verdict was unanimous in favor of condemnation it was evident that the prisoner had had no friend or defender in court. To the Jewish mind this was almost equivalent to mob violence. It argued conspiracy, at least. The element of mercy, which was required to enter into every Hebrew verdict, was absent in such a case. Again, this rule of unanimity was only another form or statement of the requirement that the court defer final action, in case of conviction, to the next day in order that time for deliberation and reflection might intervene. In other words, Hebrew law forbade precipitancy in capital proceedings. And what could be more precipitate than an instantaneous and unanimous verdict? "But where all suddenly agree on conviction, does it not seem," asks a modern Jewish writer, "that the convict is a victim of conspiracy and that the verdict is not the result of sober reason and calm deliberation?" But how did they convict under Hebrew law? By a majority vote of at least two. A majority of one would acquit. A majority of two, or any majority less than unanimity, would convict.[283] If the accused had one friend in court, the verdict of condemnation would stand, since the element of mercy was present and the spirit of conspiracy or mob violence was absent. Seventy-one constituted the membership of the Great Sanhedrin. If all the members were present and voted, at least thirty-seven were required to convict. Thirty-six would acquit. If a bare quorum, twenty-three members, was present, at least thirteen were required to convict. Twelve would acquit. This rule seems ridiculous and absurd, when viewed in the light of a brutal and undeniable crime. If the facts constituting such a crime had been proved against a Jewish prisoner beyond any possibility of doubt, if such facts were apparent to everybody, still it seems that the rule above stated required that the defendant have at least one advocate and one vote among the judges; else, the verdict was invalid and could not stand. Such a procedure could be justified on no other ground than that exceptional cases should not be permitted to destroy a rule of action that in its general operation had been found to be both generous and just. Now the condemnation of Jesus was illegal because the verdict of the Sanhedrin was unanimous. We learn this from Mark, who says: "Then the high priest rent his clothes and saith, What need we any further witnesses? ye have heard the blasphemy: what think ye? And they _all_ condemned him to be guilty of death."[284] If they _all_ condemned Him, the verdict was unanimous and therefore illegal. The other Evangelists do not tell us that the verdict was unanimous; neither do they deny it. Mark's testimony stands alone and uncontradicted; therefore we must assume that it is true. Rabbi Wise[285] and Signor Rosadi[286] call attention to the fact that the verdict was unanimous. The former seeks to ridicule Mark as an authority because a unanimous verdict was illegal under Hebrew law, and the distinguished Hebrew writer does not conceive that Hebrew judges could have made such a mistake. Such argument, reduced to ultimate analysis, means, according to Rabbi Wise, that there were certain rules of Hebrew law that could not be and were never violated. In this connection, it has been frequently asked: Was the entire Sanhedrin present at the night trial of Jesus? Were Nicodemus and Joseph of Arimathea present? If they were present, did they vote against Jesus? These questions can be answered only in the light of the authorities. Only two of the Gospel writers, Matthew and Mark, tell us of the night trial. Both declare that "all the council" were present.[287] The "council" (concilium) is the Vulgate, the Latin New Testament designation of the Great Sanhedrin. Then, if all the "council" were present, the Great Sanhedrin were all present. [Illustration: THE BETRAYING KISS (SCHEFFER)] Concerning the number of judges at the second or daybreak meeting of the Sanhedrin, both Matthew and Mark again declare that the full membership was present. Matthew says: "When the morning was come, _all_ the chief priests and elders of the people took counsel against Jesus to put him to death."[288] Mark says: "And straightway in the morning the chief priests held a consultation with the elders and scribes and the _whole council_, and bound Jesus, and carried him away, and delivered him to Pilate."[289] It should be remembered that neither Luke nor John contradicts even remotely the statements of Matthew and Mark concerning the full attendance of the members of the Sanhedrin at either the night or morning trial. The first and second Gospel writers therefore corroborate each other, and the presumption of the law is that each told the truth. And yet most commentators and writers seem to be of the opinion that all the members of the Sanhedrin were not present at the night trial of Jesus. They insist that both Matthew and Mark were employing a figure of speech, synecdoche, when they said that "all the council" were present. But these same writers seem to think that these same Evangelists were in earnest and speaking literally when they declared that "_all_ the chief priests and elders" and the "_whole_ council" were present at the morning trial. We shall not attempt to settle the question but will leave it to the reader to draw his own inferences. Suffice it to say that as far as the rule stated in connection with Point IX is concerned, it was immaterial whether the full council was present at either meeting. The rule against unanimity applied to a bare quorum or to any number less than the full Sanhedrin. It was the unanimity itself, of however few members, that carried with it the spirit and suggestion of mob violence and conspiracy against which Hebrew law protested. The question of the number of members that were present at the different meetings of the Sanhedrin has been discussed in the light of history, and as bearing upon the conduct of Nicodemus and Joseph of Arimathea, who were friends of Jesus. Nicodemus was certainly a member of the Great Sanhedrin. This we learn from two passages of New Testament scripture.[290] It is also believed that Joseph of Arimathea was a member from a mere suggestion in another passage.[291] Did these friends of the Christ vote against Him? If they were members of the court; if Matthew and Mark wrote literally when they said that "all the council" were present; and if Mark wrote literally and truthfully when he said that "they _all_ condemned him to be guilty of death"; then it naturally and inevitably follows that both Nicodemus and Joseph voted against Jesus. [Illustration: THE ARREST OF JESUS (HOFFMAN)] A number of arguments have been offered against this contention. In the first place, it is said that at a previous meeting of the Sanhedrin Nicodemus defended Jesus by asking his fellow-judges this question: "Doth our law judge any man before it hear him and know what he doeth?"[292] It is asserted that there is no good reason to believe that Nicodemus defended Jesus at this meeting and turned against Him at a subsequent one, that there is a presumption of a continuance of fidelity. But is this good reasoning? Did not Peter cut off the ear of the high priest's servant, Malchus, in defense of Jesus at midnight, in the garden, and then within three hours afterwards deny that he knew Jesus? There is no good reason to believe that Nicodemus was braver or more constant than Peter, for the former seems to have been either ashamed or afraid to express his affection for the Master during the daytime, but preferred to do it at night.[293] Concerning the part taken by Nicodemus in the final proceedings, Rosadi says: "The verdict was unanimous. The members of the Sanhedrin who were secretly favorable to the Accused were either absent or else they voted against him. Nicodemus was amongst the absentees, or amongst those that voted against him. At all events, he did not raise his voice against the pronouncement expressed by acclamation." If Joseph of Arimathea was a member of the Great Sanhedrin, it seems that he "had not consented to the counsel and the deed of them."[294] But it is impossible to tell certainly to which one of the three meetings of the Sanhedrin, held within the six months preceding the crucifixion, this language refers. The defense of Jesus offered by Nicodemus was certainly not at the final meeting which condemned Jesus. It may be that the reference to the protest of Joseph of Arimathea also referred to a prior meeting. Its connection in Luke seems to make it refer to the last trial, but this is not certain. Neither is it certain that Joseph was a member of the Great Sanhedrin, and his failure to consent, if he were not a member, would not disturb the contention made in Point IX of the Brief. Even if he were a member, his failure to consent would not destroy the contention, since ancient Hebrew judges, like modern American jurors, could have first protested against their action and then have voted with them. The polling of the jury, under modern law, has reference, among other things, to this state of affairs. But we may admit that both Nicodemus and Joseph of Arimathea, as well as many others, were absent, as Rosadi suggests, and still contend that the verdict against Jesus was illegal because it was unanimous, as Mark assures us, since the number of judges present was immaterial, provided there was a quorum of at least twenty-three and their verdict was unanimous against the accused. According to the second Gospel writer, there seems to be no doubt that this was the case in the judgment pronounced against Jesus. POINT X THE PROCEEDINGS AGAINST JESUS WERE ILLEGAL IN THAT: (1) THE SENTENCE OF CONDEMNATION WAS PRONOUNCED IN A PLACE FORBIDDEN BY LAW; (2) THE HIGH PRIEST RENT HIS CLOTHES; (3) THE BALLOTING WAS IRREGULAR LAW "After leaving the hall Gazith no sentence of death can be passed upon anyone soever."--TALMUD, Bab., Abodah Zarah, or of Idolatry, Chap. I. fol. 8. "A sentence of death can be pronounced only so long as the Sanhedrin holds its sessions in the appointed place."--MAIMONIDES, Sanhedrin XIV. "And he that is the high priest among his brethren, upon whose head the anointing oil was poured, and that is consecrated to put on the garments, shall not uncover his head, nor rend his clothes."--LEVITICUS xxi. 10. "And Moses said unto Aaron, and unto Eleazar, and unto Ithamar, his sons, Uncover not your heads, neither rend your clothes; lest ye die, and lest wrath come upon all the people."--LEVITICUS x. 6. "Let the judges each in his turn absolve or condemn."--MISHNA, Sanhedrin XV. 5. "The members of the Sanhedrin were seated in the form of a semicircle at the extremity of which a secretary was placed, whose business it was to record the votes. One of these secretaries recorded the votes in favor of the accused, the other those against him."--MISHNA, Sanhedrin IV. 3. "In ordinary cases the judges voted according to seniority, the oldest commencing; in a capital trial, the reverse order was followed. That the younger members of the Sanhedrin should not be influenced by the views or arguments of their more mature, more experienced colleagues, the junior judge was in these cases always the first to pronounce for or against a conviction."--BENNY, "Criminal Code of the Jews," pp. 73, 74. FACT AND ARGUMENT IN the trial of capital cases, the Great Sanhedrin was required to meet in an apartment of the National Temple at Jerusalem, known as the Hall of Hewn Stones (Lishkhath haggazith). Outside of this hall no capital trial could be conducted and no capital sentence could be pronounced.[295] This place was selected in obedience to Mosaic injunction: "Thou shalt do according to the tenor of the sentence, which they may point out to thee _from the place which the Lord shall choose_."[296] The Rabbis argued that the Great Council could not try a capital case or pronounce a death sentence, unless it met and remained in the place chosen by God, which, they contended, should be an apartment of the Great Temple. The Lishkhath haggazith was chosen, and continued for many years to be the meeting place of the supreme tribunal. But Jesus was not tried or condemned to death in the Hall of Hewn Stones, as Hebrew law required. It is clearly evident, from the Gospels, that He was tried and sentenced in the palace of Caiaphas, probably on Mount Zion. It is contended by the Jews, however, that soon after the Roman conquest of Judea the Great Sanhedrin removed from the sacred place to Bethany, and from there to other places, as occasion required. And there is a Jewish tradition that the court returned to the accustomed place on the occasion of the trial and condemnation of Jesus.[297] In opposition to this, Edersheim says: "There is truly not a tittle of evidence for the assumption of commentators that Christ was led from the palace of Caiaphas into the Council Chamber (Lishkhath haggazith). The whole proceedings took place in the former, and from it Christ was brought to Pilate."[298] St. John emphatically declares: "Then led they Jesus from Caiaphas into the hall of judgment."[299] This Hall of Judgment was the Prætorium of Pilate. The first irregularity, then, noted under Point X is that Jesus was tried and condemned in the palace of Caiaphas instead of the Hall of Hewn Stones, the regular legal meeting place of the Great Sanhedrin. The second error noted under Point X is that which relates to the rending of garments by the high priest. "An ordinary Israelite could, as an emblem of bereavement, tear his garments, but to the high priest it was forbidden, because his vestments, being made after the express orders of God, were figurative of his office."[300] When Jesus confessed that He was Christ the Son of God, Caiaphas seems to have lost his balance and to have committed errors with all the rapidity of speech. "Then the high priest rent his clothes, and saith, What need we any further witnesses? ye have heard the blasphemy: what think ye? And they all condemned him to be guilty of death."[301] In this language and conduct of the son-in-law of Annas there were several irregularities in procedure. The first was the rending of garments reported by Matthew and Mark, which act was forbidden by the provisions of the Mosaic Code, recorded in Leviticus and cited above. But it is only fair to state the dissenting opinion on this point. In the times of Christ it seems to have been the custom among the Jews to rend the garments as a sign of horror and execration, whenever blasphemous language was heard. Edersheim states the rule: "They all heard it--and, as the law directed, when blasphemy was spoken, the high priest rent both his outer and inner garment, with a rent that might never be repaired."[302] The law here referred to, however, is the Rabbinic or Talmudic and not the Mosaic law. It should be remembered that the Mosaic Code was the constitution or fundamental law of the ancient Hebrews. The Talmudic law embodied in the Mishna was, in a sense, a mere commentary upon the Mosaic law. We have seen in Chapter I of Part II of this volume that the traditional law was based upon, derived from, and inspired by the written law contained in the Pentateuch. It is true that the Talmud, while professing subordination to the Pentateuch, finally virtually superseded it as an administrative code. But the doctors never repealed a Mosaic injunction, since it was an emanation of the mind of Jehovah and could not be abrogated by human intelligence. When an ancient ordinance ceased to be of practical value the Jewish legists simply declared that it had fallen into desuetude. And whenever a new law was proclaimed to meet an emergency in the life of the Hebrew people the Rabbins declared that it was derived from and inspired by some decree which God had handed down to Moses for the benefit of the nation. In other words, the Mosaic Code was Israel's divine constitution which was to serve as a standard for all future legislation. And as the Jewish lawmakers were not permitted to repeal a Mosaic ordinance, neither were they allowed to establish a rule in contravention of it. Now the Pentateuch forbade the rending of garments. Then did the Talmudists have a right to declare that the law might be changed or broken in the case of blasphemy? That they did is denied by many writers. But admitting the validity of the Talmudic rule, it is nevertheless beyond dispute that the high priest was forbidden to rend his clothes on Sabbaths and holidays. And as Jesus was condemned on both a Sabbath and a festival day, the high priest's action in rending his clothes on that day was illegal.[303] Again, the proceedings against Jesus were illegal because the balloting was irregular. This is the third error noted under Point X. The Hebrew law required that each judge, when his time came to vote upon the guilt or innocence of the accused, should rise in his place, declare his vote, and state his reasons for so voting. In capital cases the youngest judge was required to vote first, in order that he might not be unduly influenced by the example of his seniors in age and authority. The balloting continued in this manner from the youngest member to the high priest, who was generally among the oldest. Two scribes--according to some writers, three--were present to record the votes and to note the reasons stated. These records were to be used on the second day of the trial in comparing the arguments of the judges on that day with those offered on the first day. Judges who had voted for acquittal on the first day could not change their votes on the second day. Those who had voted for conviction on the first day might change their votes on the second day, by assigning good reasons. Those who had voted for conviction on the first day could not vote for conviction on the second day, if the reasons assigned on the second day were radically different from those assigned on the first day.[304] It will thus be seen how very essential were the records of the scribes and how important it was that they should be correctly kept. Hence the necessity, according to Benny, of a third scribe whose notes might be used to correct any discrepancies in the reports of the other two. Now are we justified in assuming that this was the method employed in counting votes at the trial of Jesus? The law will not permit us to presume errors. We must rather assume that this was the method employed, unless the Gospel record indicates, either by plain statement or by reasonable construction, that it was not the method used. In this connection, let us review the language of the Scriptures. "Ye have heard the blasphemy: what think ye? And they all condemned him to be guilty of death." Is it not clearly evident, from this passage, that the balloting was not done singly, the youngest voting first, as Hebrew law required? Can it not be seen at a glance that the judges voted _en masse_? If they did, was it possible for the scribes to record the votes and make a note of the reasons assigned, as the law required? If these things were not done, were the proceedings regular? According to Matthew, Caiaphas, before calling for the votes exclaimed: "He hath spoken blasphemy."[305] Instead of doing this should he not, under the law, have carefully concealed his opinion until the younger members of the court had voted? Is it not a matter of history that the opinion of the high priest was regarded as almost infallible authority among the ancient Hebrews? Did not this premature declaration of guilt on the part of the high priest rob the subordinate judges of freedom of suffrage? The conduct of the case at the close, when the balloting took place, seems to justify the view of those writers who assert that there was no regular trial of Jesus, but rather the action of a mob. POINT XI THE MEMBERS OF THE GREAT SANHEDRIN WERE LEGALLY DISQUALIFIED TO TRY JESUS LAW "The robe of the unfairly elected judge is to be respected not more than the blanket of the ass."--MENDELSOHN, "Hebrew Maxims and Rules," p. 182. "As Moses sat in judgment without the expectation of material reward, so also must every judge act from a sense of duty only."--MENDELSOHN, "Hebrew Maxims and Rules," p. 177. "Nor must there be on the judicial bench either a relation, or a particular friend, or an enemy of either the accused or of the accuser."--MENDELSOHN, "Criminal Jurisprudence of the Ancient Hebrews," p. 108. "He (the Hebrew judge) was, in the first instance, to be modest, of good repute among his neighbors, and generally liked."--BENNY, "Criminal Code of the Jews," p. 38. "Nor under any circumstances, was a man known to be _at enmity with the accused person_ permitted to occupy a position among his judges."--BENNY, "Criminal Code of the Jews," p. 37. FACT AND ARGUMENT THE Gospel records disclose the fact that the members of the Great Sanhedrin were legally disqualified to try Jesus. This disqualification was of two kinds: (1) A general disqualification, under Hebrew law, to act as judges in any case; (2) a special disqualification to sit in judgment upon the life of Jesus. Among all the great systems of jurisprudence of the world the ancient Hebrew system was the most exacting in the matter of judicial fitness. In the palmiest days of the Hebrew Commonwealth the members of the Great Sanhedrin represented the most perfect mental, moral, and physical development of the Hebrew people. A man could not be a member of this court who had any serious mental, moral, or physical defect. He must have been "learned in the law," both written and unwritten. He must have had judicial experience; that is, he must have filled three offices of gradually increasing dignity, beginning with one of the local courts and passing successively through two magistracies at Jerusalem. He must have been an accomplished linguist; that is, he must have been thoroughly familiar with the languages of the surrounding nations. He must have been modest, popular, of good appearance, and free from haughtiness. He must have been pious, strong, and courageous. And above all, he must have been friendly in his attitude toward the accused.[306] These were the qualifications of Israel's judges before Roman politics had corrupted them. But at the time of Christ they had grown to be time-serving, degenerate, and corrupt. Judea was then passing through a period of religious and political revolution. At such a time in any state, as all history teaches us, the worst elements of society generally get the upper hand and control the political currents of the day. Many members of the Sanhedrin had themselves been guilty of criminal acts in both public and private life. Many of them held office by purchase--they had bought their seats. They were thus unfitted to be judges in any case; especially in one involving the great question of life and death. In order to show the general disqualification, under the test of Hebrew law, of the members of the Great Sanhedrin, at the time of Christ, to exercise judicial functions, it is necessary to quote only Jewish authorities. In "The Martyrdom of Jesus," Rabbi Wise says: "The chief priests, under the iron rule of Pilate and his wicked master, Sejan, were the tools of the Roman soldiers who held Judea and Samaria in subjection. Like the high priest, they were appointed to and removed from office by the Roman governor of the country, either directly or indirectly. They purchased their commissions for high prices and, like almost all Roman appointees, used them for mercenary purposes. They were considered wicked men by the ancient writers and must have stood very low in the estimation of the people over whom they tyrannized. The patriots must have looked upon them as hirelings of the foreign despot whose rule was abhorred. Although there was, here and there, a good, pious and patriotic man among them, he was an exception. As a general thing, and under the rule of Pilate, especially, they were the corrupt tools of a military despotism which Rome imposed upon enslaved Palestine." Again, the Talmud, in which we never look for slurs upon the Hebrew people, where slurs are not deserved, contains this bitter denunciation of the high-priestly families of the times of Christ: "What a plague is the family of Simon Boethus; cursed be their lances! What a plague is the family of Ananos; cursed be their hissing of vipers! What a plague is the family of Cantharus; cursed be their pens! What a plague is the family of Ismael ben Phabi; cursed be their fists! They are high priests themselves, their sons are treasurers, their sons-in-law are commanders, and their servants strike the people with staves." In like manner the Talmud, in withering rebuke and sarcasm, again declares that "The porch of the sanctuary cried out four times. The first time, Depart from here, descendants of Eli; ye pollute the Temple of the Eternal! The second time, Let Issachar ben Keifar Barchi depart from here, who polluted himself and profaneth the victims consecrated to God! The third time, Widen yourselves, ye gates of the sanctuary and let Israel ben Phabi, the wilful, enter that he may discharge the functions of the priesthood! Yet another cry was heard, Widen yourselves, ye gates, and let Ananias ben Nebedeus, the gourmand, enter, that he may glut himself on the victims."[307] It should be borne in mind that the high-priestly families so scathingly dealt with by the Talmud were the controlling spirits in the Great Sanhedrin at the time of Christ. Were they legally qualified, then, under the ancient and honorable tests of Hebrew law, to be members of the highest court in the land? If they bought their offices and used them for mercenary purposes, as Wise asserts, were they worthy of the great exemplar, Moses, who "sat in judgment without the expectation of material reward"? If they thus secured their places and prostituted them to selfish purposes, were their robes to be respected any more than the blanket of the ass? The ancient Hebrew judges, in the days of Israel's purity and glory, submitted their claims to judicial preferment to the suffrage of a loving and confiding people.[308] They climbed the rungs of the judicial ladder by slow and painful degrees. Integrity and ability marked each advance toward the top. Was this the process of promotion in the case of Caiaphas and his fellow-judges? Did their bought and corrupted places not brand them with the anathema of the law? We come now to consider the special disqualifications of members of the Sanhedrin to sit in judgment upon the life of Jesus. The reasons for these disqualifications were two: (1) The members of this court were, in the language of Jost, "burning enemies" of Jesus, and were therefore disqualified, under Hebrew law, to act as His judges; (2) they had determined upon His guilt, and had sentenced Him to death before the trial began; and had thus outraged not only a specific provision of Hebrew law but also a principle of universal justice. The various causes of the hatred of the members of the Sanhedrin for Jesus are too numerous and profound to admit of exhaustive treatment here. A thorough analysis of these causes would necessitate a review of the life of Christ from the manger to the sepulcher. A few reasons will suffice. But at this point a distinction should be made between that personal hatred which disqualifies and the hatred and loathing of the crime that do not disqualify. Every just and righteous judge should loathe and hate the crime itself; and a certain amount of loathing and dislike for the criminal is most natural and almost inevitable. But no judge is qualified to sit in judgment upon the rights of life, liberty, or property of another whom he hates as the result of a personal grudge, born of personal experience with the prisoner at the bar. The hatred that disqualified the members of the Sanhedrin, under Hebrew law, was that kind of hatred that had been generated by personal interest and experience. The most merciless invective, barbed with incomparable wit, ridicule, and satire, had been daily hurled at them by Jesus with withering effect. With a touch more potent than that of Ithuriel's spear He had unmasked their wicked hypocrisy and had blazoned it to the skies. Every day of His active ministry, which lasted about three years, had been spent in denouncing their shameless practices and their guilty lives. The Scribes and Pharisees were proud, haughty, and conceited beyond description. They believed implicitly in the infallibility of their authority and in the perfection of their souls. How galling, then, to such men must have been this declaration of an obscure and lowly Nazarene: "Verily, I say unto you, That the publicans and the harlots go into the kingdom of God before you."[309] What impetuous invective this: "Woe unto you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! for ye devour widows' houses, and for a pretense make long prayer: therefore ye shall receive the greater damnation. Woe unto you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! for ye compass sea and land to make one proselyte, and when he is made, ye make him twofold more the child of hell than yourselves."[310] We can well imagine how these fiery darts pierced and tore the vanity of a haughty and contemptuous priesthood. Consider for a moment the difference in the spheres of Jesus and of His enemies. He, an obscure prophet from Nazareth in Galilee; they, the leaders of Israel and the guardians of the Temple at Jerusalem. He, the single advocate of the New Dispensation; they, the manifold upholders of the Old. He, without earthly authority in the propagation of His faith; they, clothed with the sanction of the law and the prestige of a mighty past. Imagine, then, if you can, the intensity of the hatred engendered by the language and the conduct of Jesus. That we may fully appreciate the tension of the situation let us cast a single glance at the character of the Scribes. Edersheim has written these wonderfully graphic lines about them: He pushes to the front, the crowd respectfully giving way, and eagerly hanging on his utterances, as those of a recognized authority. He has been solemnly ordained by the laying on of hands; and is the Rabbi, "my great one," Master, amplitudo. Indeed, his hyper-ingenuity in questioning has become a proverb. There is not measure of his dignity, nor yet limit to his importance. He is the "lawyer," the "well-plastered pit," filled with the water of knowledge, "out of which not a drop can escape," in opposition to the "weeds of untilled soil" of ignorance. He is the divine aristocrat, among the vulgar herd of rude and profane "country people," who "know not the law," and are "cursed." Each scribe outweighed all the common people, who must accordingly pay him every honor.... Such was to be the respect paid to their sayings that they were to be absolutely believed, even if they were to declare that to be at the right hand which was at the left, or vice-versa.[311] What could, then, be more terrific than the hatred of such a character for an unlettered Galilean who descended from the mountains of His native province to rebuke and instruct the "divine aristocrats" in religious matters and heavenly affairs? Imagine his rage and chagrin when he heard these words: "Woe unto you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! for ye are like unto whited sepulchres, which indeed appear beautiful outward, but are within full of dead men's bones, and all uncleanness.... Woe unto you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! because ye build the tombs of the prophets, and garnish the sepulchres of the righteous, And say, If we had been in the days of our fathers, we would not have been partakers with them in the blood of the prophets. Wherefore ye be witnesses unto yourselves, that ye are the children of them which killed the prophets. Fill ye up then the measure of your fathers. Ye serpents, ye generation of vipers, how can ye escape the damnation of hell?"[312] "His exquisite irony," says Renan, "His stinging remarks, always went to the heart. They were everlasting stings, and have remained festering in the wound. This Nessus-shirt of ridicule which the Jew, son of the Pharisees, has dragged in tatters after him during eighteen centuries, was woven by Jesus with a divine skill. Masterpieces of fine raillery, their features are written in lines of fire upon the flesh of the hypocrite and the false devotee. Incomparable traits worthy of a Son of God! A god alone knows how to kill in this way. Socrates and Molière only grazed the skin. The former carried fire and rage to the very marrow."[313] Are we not now justified in asserting, with Jost, that the members of the Sanhedrin, who were none other than the Scribes and Pharisees above described by Jesus, were the "burning enemies" of the prisoner at the bar? If they were, were they legally qualified to be His judges? But it may be argued that their hatred was simply a form of righteous indignation provoked by His repeated assaults upon the national religion and the national institutions; that it was their duty as guardians of both to both hate and try Him; and that they would have been derelict in duty if they had not done so. But it is apparent from the record and is evident to any fair-minded reader that the enmity of the judges toward Jesus was more personal than political, more a private than a public affair. In support of this contention, in addition to the withering language addressed to them, the matter of the purification of the Temple may be mentioned. It will be remembered how Jesus, with a scorpion lash, scourged the money-changers and traders from the Sanctuary. Now it is historically true that Annas and Caiaphas and their friends owned and controlled the stalls, booths, and bazaars connected with the Temple and from which flowed a most lucrative trade. The profits from the sale of lambs and doves, sold for sacrifice, alone were enormous. When Jesus threatened the destruction of this trade He assaulted the interests of Annas and his associates in the Sanhedrin in a vital place. This grievance was certainly not so religious as it was personal. The driving of the cattle from the stalls was probably more effective in compassing the destruction of the Christ than any miracle that He performed or any discourse that He delivered. But whatever the cause the fact is historic and indisputable that the Sanhedrists were enemies of Jesus, and therefore disqualified under Hebrew law to try Him. A second reason for the special disqualification of the members of the Sanhedrin to sit as judges at the trial of Christ was the fact that they had determined upon His guilt and had sentenced Him to death before the trial began. This point needs no extensive argument or illustration. Under every enlightened system of justice the first great qualification of judges has been that they should be unbiased and unprejudiced. Judicial proceedings are murderous and no better than mob violence when judges and jurors enter upon the trial of the case with a determination to convict the accused, regardless of the testimony. The principles underlying this proposition are fundamental and self-evident. Now the Gospel narratives disclose the fact that three different meetings of the Sanhedrin were held in the six months preceding the crucifixion, to discuss the miracles and discourses of Jesus, and to devise ways and means to entrap Him and put Him to death. The first meeting was held in the latter part of the month of September, A.D. 29, about six months before the night trial in the palace of Caiaphas. This meeting is recorded by St. John in Chap. vii., verses 37-53. The occasion was the Feast of Tabernacles, when Jesus made many converts by His preaching, and at the same time caused much apprehension among the Pharisees, who assembled the Sanhedrin to adopt plans to check His career. It was on this occasion that Nicodemus defended Christ and asked the question that shows the nature of the proceedings at that time. "Doth our law judge any man before it hear him and know what he doeth?" This was the voice, not only of Hebrew but of universal justice demanding a hearing before a condemnation. Nothing definite seems to have been accomplished at this meeting. The second session of the Sanhedrin took place in the month of February, A.D. 30, about six weeks before the crucifixion. The occasion of this meeting was the resurrection of Lazarus, an account of which is given in John xi. 41-53. The chief priests and Pharisees seem to have been seized with consternation by the reports of the progress of the propaganda of Jesus. They had often listened contemptuously and in sullen silence to the accounts of His miraculous performances. But when He began to raise the dead to life, they decided that it was about time to act. At this meeting Caiaphas appealed to his associates in the name of the common weal. "Ye know nothing at all," he said, "nor consider that it is expedient for us, that one man should die for the people, and that the whole nation perish not."[314] This seems to have been a form of condemnation in which the other judges joined. "Then from that day forth they took counsel together for to put him to death."[315] At this second session of the Sanhedrin the death of Jesus seems to have been decreed in an informal way and an opportunity was awaited for its accomplishment. The third meeting of the Sanhedrin took place just a few days before the Paschal Feast. "Now the feast of unleavened bread drew nigh, which is called the Passover. And the chief priests and scribes sought how they might kill him; for they feared the people."[316] "Then assembled together the chief priests, and the scribes, and the elders of the people, unto the palace of the high priest, who was called Caiaphas, and consulted that they might take Jesus by subtilty, and kill him. But they said, Not on the feast day, lest there be an uproar among the people."[317] At this third session of the court it was agreed that the arrest and execution of Jesus should be accomplished at the earliest possible date. It will be seen that at these different sessions of the Sanhedrin in the six months preceding the regular trial the judges had resolved that Jesus should be done away with at the first convenient opportunity. In short, and in fact, their hatred was formed and their determination fixed in the matter of the proceedings to be instituted against Him. Were they, then, legally qualified to act as His judges? Again, besides prejudging Him to death had they not demonstrated their total unfitness for any righteous administration of justice by seeking false witnesses against Him? Hebrew law forbade them to seek for witnesses of any kind. They were the defenders of the accused and, under the Hebrew system, were required to search for pretexts to acquit and not for witnesses to condemn.[318] It was a maxim that "the Sanhedrin was to save, not to destroy life."[319] Much more were they forbidden to seek for false witnesses. Hebrew law denounced false witnesses and condemned them to the very punishment prescribed for those whom they sought to convict. "And the judges shall make diligent inquisition; and, behold, if the witness be a false witness, and hath testified falsely against his brother; then shall ye do unto him, as he had thought to do unto his brother.... And thine eye shall not pity; but life shall go for life, eye for eye, tooth for tooth, hand for hand, foot for foot."[320] But here we find the judges actually seeking testimony which the law pointedly prohibited. This matter alone establishes their utter unfitness to try Jesus, and is explicable only on the ground of the degradation into which they had fallen at the time of Christ and on the hypothesis that their burning hatred had overwhelmed their judgment and sense of justice. If it be objected that the points of disqualification above alleged were not applicable to all the judges, a single sentence of Scripture meets the objection: "And the chief priests and _all the council_ sought for witness against Jesus to put Him to death."[321] The fact that "all the council" were willing to outrage a provision of the fundamental law is sufficient proof that they were all disqualified to try Christ. Another conclusive proof of the total unfitness of the members of the Sanhedrin to try Jesus is the fact that they so far forgot themselves that they abandoned all sense of self-respect and judicial dignity by brutally striking Him and spitting in His face. We would like to believe that this outrageous conduct was limited to the servants of the priests, but the Gospel of St. Mark, Chap. xiv., verse 65, clearly indicates that the judges themselves were also guilty. POINT XII THE CONDEMNATION OF JESUS WAS ILLEGAL BECAUSE THE MERITS OF THE DEFENSE WERE NOT CONSIDERED LAW "Then shalt thou inquire, and make search, and ask diligently."--DEUTERONOMY xiii. 14. "The judges shall weigh the matter in the sincerity of their conscience."--MISHNA, Sanhedrin IV. 5. "The primary object of the Hebrew judicial system was to render the conviction of an innocent person impossible. All the ingenuity of the Jewish legists was directed to the attainment of this end."--BENNY, "Criminal Code of the Jews," p. 56. FACT AND ARGUMENT THE actual trial of any criminal case shows, upon the record, two essential parts: (1) The accusation; (2) the defense. The absence of the elements of defense makes the proceeding _ex parte_; and there is really no trial. And it is impossible to conceive a proper administration of justice where a defense is not allowed, since the right to combat the allegations of the indictment is the essential principle of liberty under the law. The destruction of this right is the annihilation of freedom by subjecting the individual citizen to the whims and caprices of the governing power. An ideal code of criminal procedure would embody rules of evidence and practice perfectly adapted to establish truth in the matter at issue between the commonwealth and the prisoner. Neither the people nor the accused would be favored or prejudiced by the admission or exclusion of any kind of evidence. An exact interpretation and administration of this code would result in a perfect intellectual balance between the rights of the state and the defendant. But such a code has never been framed, and if one were in existence, it would be impossible to enforce it, as long as certain judges insisted on aiding the prosecution and others on helping the accused, in violation of standard rules of evidence. Now, the ancient Hebrew system of criminal procedure was no such ideal one as that above described. It should be remembered that there was no body, under that system, corresponding to our modern Grand Jury, to present indictments. There were no prosecuting officers and no counselors-at-law, in the modern sense. The leading witnesses preferred charges and the judges did the rest. They examined and cross-examined witnesses, did the summing up and were, above all, the defenders of the accused. The rights of the defendant seem to have alone been seriously considered. This startling maxim was a constant menace to the integrity of the government and to the rights of the commonwealth: "The Sanhedrin which so often as once in seven years condemns a man to death, is a slaughter-house."[322] Lightfoot is of the opinion that the Jews did not lose the power of capital punishment as the result of the Roman conquest, but that they voluntarily abandoned it because the rules of criminal procedure which they had from time to time adopted finally became wholly unfitted for convicting anyone. This view is unsupported by historic fact, but it is nevertheless true that the legal safeguards for the protection of the rights of the accused had, in the later years of Jewish nationality, become so numerous and stringent that a condemnation was practically impossible. The astonishing provision of Hebrew law to which we have referred in Part II known as Antecedent Warning had the effect of securing an acquittal in nearly every case. It is contended by many that this peculiar provision was intended to abolish capital punishment by rendering conviction impossible. In the light of the principles above suggested let us review the action of the Sanhedrin in condemning Jesus to death upon His uncorroborated confession. The standard of thoroughness in investigating criminal matters is thus prescribed in the Mosaic Code: "Then shalt thou inquire, and make search, and ask diligently." The Mishna supplements the fundamental law by this direction: "The judges shall weigh the matter in the sincerity of their conscience." From what we know of the peculiar tendency of the Hebrew system to favor the accused we are justified in assuming that the two rules just cited were framed for the protection of the prisoner more than for the security of the commonwealth. Now at this point we are led to ask: Were these rules applied in the trial of Jesus in any sense either for or against the accused? Did Caiaphas and the other members of the Sanhedrin "inquire, and make search and ask diligently" concerning the facts involved in the issue between Jesus and the Hebrew people? Did they weigh the whole matter "in the sincerity of their conscience?" Is it not clearly evident from the record that the false witnesses contradicted themselves, were rejected and dismissed, and that Jesus was then condemned upon His uncorroborated confession that He was the Christ, the Son of God? The usual and natural proceeding in a Jewish criminal trial was to call witnesses for the defendant, after the leading witnesses had testified for the people. Was this done in the case of Jesus? His own apostles deserted Him in the garden, although two of them seem to have returned to the scene of the trial. Is it probable, in the light of the record, that witnesses were called for the defendant? We have seen that they could not legally convict Him upon His own confession. And there is nowhere the faintest suggestion that witnesses other than the false ones were called to testify against Him. The record is clear and unequivocal that the conviction of Jesus was upon His uncorroborated confession. This was illegal. When Caiaphas said, "I adjure thee by the living God that thou tell us whether thou be the Christ, the Son of God," Jesus answered, "Thou hast said"; that is, "I am," according to Mark. Here was an issue squarely joined between the Commonwealth of Israel and Jesus of Nazareth. It was incumbent upon the state to establish His guilt by two competent witnesses who agreed in all essential details. If these witnesses were not present, or could not be secured, it was the duty of the court to discharge Christ at once. This the law provided and demanded. But this was not done. If, as has been contended, the false witnesses were relied upon by the Sanhedrin to corroborate the confession of Jesus, then under Hebrew law the judges should at least have sought witnesses in His behalf, or should have allowed His friends time to find them and bring them in. In other words, His defense should have been considered. However overwhelming the conviction of the judges of the Sanhedrin that the claims of Jesus were false and blasphemous, they were not justified in refusing to consider the merits of His pretensions. If a midnight assassin should stealthily creep into the room of a sleeping man and shoot him to death, a judge would not be legally justified in instructing the jury, at the close of the people's case, to bring in a verdict of guilty, on the ground that nothing that the defendant could prove would help his case. However weak and ridiculous his defense, the prisoner should at least be heard; and a failure to accord him a hearing would certainly result in reversal on appeal. A refusal to consider the defense of a prisoner under ancient Hebrew law was nothing less than an abrogation of the forms of government and a proclamation of mob violence in the particular case, for it must be remembered that Hebrew criminal law was framed especially for the protection of the accused. It should also be kept in mind that it would not have been incumbent upon Caiaphas and his fellow-judges to acquit Jesus simply because a defense had been made. In other words, they were not bound to accept His explanations and arguments. If they had heard Him and His witnesses, they could have rejected His pretensions as false and blasphemous, although they were truthful and righteous, without incurring the censure of mankind and the curse of Heaven, for it would be preposterous to require infallible judgment of judicial officers. All that can be demanded of judges of the law is that they act conscientiously with the lights that are in front of them. The maledictions of the human race have been hurled at Caiaphas and his colleagues during nineteen centuries, not because they pronounced an illegal judgment, but because they outraged rules of law in their treatment of the Christ; not because they misinterpreted His defense, but because they denied Him all defense. We should constantly keep in mind that Jesus was entitled to have the two requirements, "Then shalt thou inquire, and make search, and ask diligently," and "The judges shall weigh the matter in the sincerity of their conscience," applied not only for but against Him. That is, before the Hebrew Commonwealth rested its case against Him, He had a right to demand that a _prima facie_ case be made, or in case of failure to do so, that He be at once discharged. This rule was as pointed and imperative under ancient as under modern law, and before the merits of the defense were required to be considered the state had to close its case against the defendant, with a presumption of guilt against Him, as a result of the introduction of competent and satisfactory evidence. If rules of law had been properly observed in the trial of Jesus the question of the merits of His defense would never have been raised; for it was practically impossible to convict Him under the circumstances surrounding the night trial in the palace of Caiaphas. As has been before suggested, Jesus was very popular outside the circle of the Temple authorities. So great was His popularity that it is almost certain that two competent witnesses could not have been secured to convict Him of blasphemy in the sense that He had claimed to be the Messiah. We have seen, under Point VIII, that Jesus had confessed His Messiahship to no one excepting the Samaritan woman, outside the Apostolic company. Judas, then, was probably the only witness who had heard Him declare Himself to be the Messiah that could have been secured; and his testimony was incompetent, under Hebrew law, because, under the supposition that Jesus was a criminal, Judas, His apostle, was an accomplice. As to the charge of blasphemy in the broader sense of having claimed equality with God, upon which, according to Salvador, Jesus was convicted, it seems from the Gospel record that there would have been no difficulty in legally convicting Him, if the Sanhedrin had met regularly and had taken time to summon witnesses in legal manner. For on many occasions Jesus had said and done things in the presence of both friends and enemies that the Jews regarded as blasphemous; such as claiming that He and His Father were one; that He had existed before Abraham; and that He had power to forgive sins. But these charges were not made at the trial, and we have no right to consider them except as means of interpreting the mind of Caiaphas in connection with the meaning of the claim of Jesus that He was the Christ, the Son of God. If Caiaphas was justified in construing these words to mean that Jesus claimed identity with Jehovah, then he was justified in inferring that Jesus had spoken blasphemy, for from the standpoint of ancient Judaism and considering Jesus simply as a Jewish citizen, blasphemy was the crime that resulted from such a claim. But even from this point of view Caiaphas was not justified in refusing Jesus ample opportunity to prove His equality with Jehovah, or at least that He was gifted with divine power. This was all the more true because the claim of Jesus was that of Messiahship, and according to one line of authorities in Hebrew Messianic theology the Messiah was to be clothed with divine authority and power as the messenger and vicegerent of Jehovah on earth. But it is clearly certain that a _prima facie_ case of guilt was not made by the Sanhedrin against Jesus; and, as a matter of law, He was not called upon to make any defense. He could have refused to say a word in answer to the accusation. He could have asserted His legal rights by objecting that a case against Him had not been made, by demanding that the charges against Him be dismissed and that He be set at liberty at once. But Jesus did not do this. He simply confessed His Messiahship and Sonship of the Father. This confession was not legal evidence upon which He could have been convicted, but it did help to create an issue, the truth or falsity of which should have been investigated by the court. Now, let us suppose, for argument's sake, that a _prima facie_ case of guilt against Jesus was made before the Sanhedrin. What was the next legal step under Hebrew law? What should the judges have done after hearing the witnesses against Him? It is beyond dispute that they should have begun at once to "inquire, and make search, and ask diligently" concerning all matters pertaining to the truthfulness and righteousness of His claims to Messiahship. They should have assisted Him in securing witnesses whose testimony would have helped to establish those claims. Having secured such testimony, they should have weighed it "in the sincerity of their conscience." But this they did not do. It may be asked: What proofs could have been offered that Jesus was "the Christ, the Son of God," if complete rights of defense had been accorded? That question is difficult to answer, nearly two thousand years after the trial. But if a _prima facie_ case of guilt had been made against Him, shifting the burden of proof, and requiring that His claims be proved, it may be reasonably contended that a complete defense would have necessitated proofs: (1) That Jesus was the Christ, that is, that He was the Messiah; (2) that He was also the Son of God, that is, that He was identical with God Himself. Let us consider these two phases of the subject and their attendant proofs in order. And first, what evidence could have been offered that Jesus was the Christ, that is, the Messiah? What method of procedure should have been employed by the Sanhedrin in investigating His claims? Let us suppose that Caiaphas understood that Jesus claimed to be the long-looked-for Messiah who had come from Jehovah with divine authority to redeem mankind and to regenerate and rule the world. Let us not forget that the Jews were expecting a Messiah, and that the mere claim of Messiahship was not illegal. Such a claim merely raised an issue as to its truth or falsity which was to be investigated like any other proposition of theology or law. It was not one to be either accepted or rejected without demonstration. Then when Jesus acknowledged His Messiahship in answer to the high priest's question it was the duty of the court either to admit His claim and discharge Him at once, or to summon competent witnesses, by daylight, to prove that His pretensions were false and blasphemous. Having rested their case, it was their duty to aid the prisoner in securing witnesses to substantiate His claims, and according to the spirit of Hebrew law to view rather favorably than unfavorably such claims. It was also incumbent upon them to apply to Jesus all the Messianic tests of each and every school. It should be remembered that at the time of Christ there were radically different views of the attributes of the expected Messiah. No two schools agreed upon all the signs by which the future Deliverer would be recognized. Only one sign was agreed upon by all--that He would be a scion of the House of David. The followers of Judas of Galilee believed that the Messiah would be an earthly hero of giant stature--a William Tell, a Robert Bruce, an Abraham Lincoln--who would emancipate the Jews by driving out the Romans and permanently restoring the kingdom of David on the earth. The school of Shammai believed that he would be not only a great statesman and warrior, but a religious zealot as well; and that to splendid victories on the battlefield, he would add the glorious triumphs of religion. Radically different from both these views, were the teachings of the gentle Hillel and his disciples. According to these, the Messiah was to be a prince of peace whose sublime and holy spirit would impress itself upon all flesh, would banish all wars, and make of Jerusalem the grand center of international brotherhood and love. But even these conceptions were not exhaustive of the various Messianic ideas that were prevalent in Palestine in the days of Jesus. Some of the Messianic notions were not only contradictory but diametrically opposite in meaning. A "prince of peace" and a "gigantic warrior" could not well be one and the same person. And for this reason it is apparent that, had an examination been made, the claims of Jesus to the Messiahship could not have been rejected by Caiaphas and the Sanhedrin, simply because this or that attribute did not meet the approval of this or that sect or school. Instead of condemning Him to death for blasphemy, when Jesus answered that He was the Christ, the Son of God, Caiaphas should have asked a second question: "What sign shewest thou then, that we may see and believe thee?" It has been contended by Jewish writers that, far from denying Jesus the privilege of proving His Messiahship, He was frequently asked to give signs and perform wonders. The reply to this is that as far as the legal merits of the case are concerned Jesus was not invited at the trial in the palace of Caiaphas to show signs or give proofs of His Messiahship. And as to the chances afforded Him at other times and places, they were extra-judicial and were mere street affairs in which Jesus probably refused to gratify vulgar curiosity and by which He was not remotely bound legally or religiously. It is only when properly arraigned and accused that a citizen under modern law can be compelled to answer a charge of crime. The rule was more stringent under the ancient Hebrew dispensation. Private preliminary examinations, even by judicial officers, were not permitted by Hebrew law, as Salvador explicitly states. It was only when confronted by proper charges before a legally constituted tribunal in regular session, that a Hebrew prisoner was compelled to answer. And at the regular trial before the full Sanhedrin Jesus was not asked to give evidence that would serve to exculpate Him. What Caiaphas should have done was to notify Jesus, at the time of the arraignment in his own house, that His life was at stake and that now was the time to produce testimony in His own behalf. It was the duty, furthermore, of the high priest and his associates to consult the sacred books to see if the Messianic prophecies therein contained were fulfilled in the birth, life, and performances of Jesus, as these matters were developed at the trial by witnesses duly summoned in His behalf. It was a matter personally within the knowledge of the judges that the time was ripe for the appearance of the Deliverer. Not only the people of Israel, but all the surrounding nations were expecting the coming of a great renovator of the world. Of such an arrival Virgil had already sung at Rome.[323] A great national misfortune had already foreshadowed the day of the Messiah more potently than had any individual event in the life of Jesus. When Jacob lay dying upon his deathbed, he called around him his twelve sons and began to pronounce upon each in turn the paternal and prophetic blessing. When the turn of Judah came, the accents of the dying patriarch became more clear and animated, as he said: "Judah, thou art he whom thy brethren shall praise: thy hand shall be in the neck of thine enemies; thy father's children shall bow down before thee. Judah is a lion's whelp: from the prey, my son, thou art gone up: he stooped down, he couched as a lion, and as an old lion; who shall rouse him up? The _sceptre_ shall not depart from Judah, nor a lawgiver from between his feet, until Shiloh come; and unto him shall the gathering of the people be."[324] The Jewish Rabbinical commentators of antiquity were unanimously of the opinion that this prophecy of Jacob referred to the day of the Messiah. And for ages the people had been told to watch for two special signs which would herald the coming of the great Deliverer: (1) The departure of the scepter from Judah; (2) the loss of the judicial power. The Talmudists, commenting on the above passage from Genesis, say: "The son of David shall not come unless the royal power has been taken from Judah"; and in another passage: "The son of David shall not come unless the judges have ceased in Israel."[325] Now both these signs had appeared at the time of the Roman conquest, shortly before the birth of Christ. At the deposition of Archelaus, A.D. 6, Judea became a Roman province with a Roman procurator as governor. Sovereignty then passed away forever from the Jews. And not only was sovereignty taken from them, but its chief attribute, the power of life and death in judicial matters, was destroyed. Thus the legal and historical situation was produced that had been prophesied by Jacob. The _scepter_ had passed from Judah and the _lawgiver_ from between his feet, when Jesus stood before the Sanhedrin claiming to be the Messiah. A fair trial in full daylight, it is believed, would have called before His judges a host of witnesses friendly to Jesus, whose testimony would have established an exact fulfilment of ancient Messianic prophecy in His birth, life, arrest, and trial. A judicial record would have been made of which the following might be regarded as an approximately correct transcript: (1) _That the Messiah was to be born in Bethlehem_: PROPHECY--But thou, Beth-lehem Ephratah, though thou be little among the thousands of Judah, yet out of thee shall he come forth unto me that is to be ruler in Israel; whose goings forth have been from of old, from everlasting.--MICAH v. 2. FULFILLMENT--Now when Jesus was _born in Bethlehem_ of Judea in the days of Herod the king, behold, there came wise men from the east to Jerusalem.--MATT. ii. 1. And Joseph also went up from Galilee, out of the city of Nazareth, into Judea, unto the city of David, which is called Bethlehem (because he was of the house and lineage of David), To be taxed with Mary his espoused wife, being great with child. And so it was, that, while they were there, the days were accomplished that she should be delivered. And she brought forth her firstborn son, and wrapped him in swaddling clothes, and laid him in a manger; because there was no room for them in the inn.--LUKE ii. 4-7. (2) _That the Messiah was to be born of a virgin_: PROPHECY--Therefore the Lord himself shall give you a sign; Behold, a virgin shall conceive, and bear a son, and shall call his name Immanuel.--ISA. vii. 14. FULFILLMENT--And in the sixth month the angel Gabriel was sent from God unto a city of Galilee, named Nazareth, To a virgin espoused to a man whose name was Joseph, of the house of David; and the virgin's name was Mary.... And the angel said unto her, Fear not, Mary: for thou hast found favor with God. And, behold, thou shalt conceive in thy womb, and bring forth a son, and shalt call his name Jesus.--LUKE i. 26-30. Then Joseph being raised from sleep did as the angel of the Lord had bidden him, and took unto him his wife: and knew her not till she had brought forth her firstborn son: and he called his name Jesus--MATT. i. 24, 25. (3) _That the Messiah was to spring from the house of David_: PROPHECY--Behold, the days come, saith the Lord, that I will raise unto David a righteous Branch, and a King shall reign and prosper, and shall execute judgment and justice in the earth. In his days Judah shall be saved, and Israel shall dwell safely: and this is his name whereby he shall be called, THE LORD OUR RIGHTEOUSNESS.--JER. xxiii. 5, 6. FULFILLMENT--He shall be great, and shall be called the Son of the Highest; and the Lord God shall give unto him the throne of his father David.--LUKE i. 32. But while he thought on these things, behold, the angel of the Lord appeared unto him in a dream, saying, Joseph, thou son of David, fear not to take unto thee Mary thy wife: for that which is conceived in her is of the Holy Ghost.--MATT. i. 20. (4) _That the Messiah should not come until the scepter had departed from Judah and the lawgiver from between his feet_: PROPHECY--The Sceptre shall not depart from Judah, nor a lawgiver from between his feet, until Shiloh come.--GEN. xlix. 10. FULFILLMENT--And he saith unto them, Whose is this image and superscription? They say unto him, Cæsar's. Then saith he unto them, Render therefore unto Cæsar the things which are Cæsar's; and unto God the things that are God's.--MATT. xxii. 20, 21. Then said Pilate unto them, Take ye him, and judge him according to your law. The Jews therefore said unto him, It is not lawful for us to put any man to death.--JOHN xviii. 31. (5) _That a forerunner like unto Elijah should prepare the way of the Messiah_: PROPHECY--Behold, I will send my messenger, and he shall prepare the way before me: and the Lord, whom ye seek, shall suddenly come to his temple, even the messenger of the covenant, whom ye delight in: behold, he shall come, saith the Lord of hosts.--MAL. iii. 1. The voice of him that crieth in the wilderness, Prepare ye the way of the Lord, make straight in the desert a highway for our God.--ISA. xl. 3. FULFILLMENT--In those days came John the Baptist, preaching in the wilderness of Judea, And saying, Repent ye: for the kingdom of heaven is at hand. For this is he that was spoken of by the prophet Esaias, saying, The voice of one crying in the wilderness, Prepare ye the way of the Lord, make his paths straight.--MATT. iii. 1-3. This is he, of whom it is written, Behold, I send my messenger before thy face, which shall prepare thy way before thee. For I say unto you, Among those that are born of women there is not a greater prophet than John the Baptist.--LUKE vii. 27, 28. (6) _That the Messiah should begin to preach in Galilee_: PROPHECY--In Galilee of the nations, the people that walked in darkness have seen a great light.--ISA. ix. 1, 2. FULFILLMENT--Now when Jesus had heard that John was cast into prison, He departed into Galilee.... The people which sat in darkness, saw great light; and to them which sat in the region and shadow of death light is sprung up. From that time, Jesus began to preach, and to say, Repent: for the kingdom of heaven is at hand.--MATT. iv. 12-17. (7) _That the Messiah should perform many miracles:_ PROPHECY--Then the eyes of the blind shall be opened, and the ears of the deaf shall be unstopped. Then shall the lame man leap as a hart, and the tongue of the dumb sing: for in the wilderness shall waters break out, and streams in the desert.--ISA. xxxv. 5, 6. FULFILLMENT--Then was brought unto him one possessed with a devil, blind, and dumb, and he healed him, insomuch that the blind and dumb both spake and saw.--MATT. xii. 22. But that ye may know that the Son of man hath power upon earth to forgive sins (he said unto the sick of the palsy), I say unto thee, Arise, and take up thy couch, and go into thine house. And immediately he rose up before them, and took up that whereon he lay, and departed to his own house, glorifying God.--LUKE v. 24, 25. Jesus answered and said unto them, Go and shew John again those things which ye do hear and see: The blind receive their sight, and the lame walk, the lepers are cleansed, and the deaf hear, the dead are raised up, and the poor have the gospel preached to them.--MATT. xi. 4, 5. (8) _That the Messiah should make his public entry into Jerusalem riding upon an ass:_ PROPHECY--Rejoice greatly, O daughter of Zion; shout, O daughter of Jerusalem: behold, thy King cometh unto thee: he is just, and having salvation; lowly, and riding upon an ass, and upon a colt the foal of an ass.--ZECH. ix. 9. FULFILLMENT--And the disciples went, and did as Jesus commanded them, And brought the ass, and the colt, and put on them their clothes, and they set him thereon. And a very great multitude spread their garments in the way; others cut down branches from the trees, and strewed them in the way. And the multitudes that went before, and that followed, cried, saying, Hosanna to the Son of David: Blessed is he that cometh in the name of the Lord; Hosanna in the highest.--MATT. xxi. 6-9. (9) _That the Messiah should be betrayed by one of his followers for thirty pieces of silver which would finally be thrown into the potter's field:_ PROPHECY--Yea, mine own familiar friend, in whom I trusted, which did eat of my bread, hath lifted up his heel against me.--PSA. xli. 9. And I said unto them, If ye think good, give me my price; and if not, forbear. So they weighed for my price thirty pieces of silver. And the Lord said unto me, Cast it unto the potter: a goodly price that I was prized at of them. And I took the thirty pieces of silver, and cast them to the potter in the house of the Lord.--ZECH. xi. 12, 13. FULFILLMENT--Then one of the twelve, called Judas Iscariot, went unto the chief priests, And said unto them, What will ye give me, and I will deliver him unto you? And they covenanted with him for thirty pieces of silver.--MATT. xxvi. 14, 15. Then Judas, which had betrayed him, when he saw that he was condemned, repented himself, and brought again the thirty pieces of silver to the chief priests and elders, Saying, I have sinned in that I have betrayed the innocent blood. And they said, What is that to us? see thou to that. And he cast down the pieces of silver in the temple, and departed, and went and hanged himself. And the chief priests took the silver pieces, and said, It is not lawful for to put them into the treasury, because it is the price of blood. And they took counsel, and bought with them the potter's field, to bury strangers in.--MATT. xxvii. 3-8. (10) _That the Messiah should be a man of poverty and of suffering; and should be despised and rejected of men:_ PROPHECY--He is despised and rejected of men; a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief: and we hid as it were our faces from him; he was despised, and we esteemed him not.--ISA. liii. 3. FULFILLMENT--And Jesus said unto him, Foxes have holes, and birds of the air have nests; but the Son of man hath not where to lay his head.--LUKE ix. 58. And they smote him on the head with a reed, and did spit upon him, and bowing their knees worshipped him. And when they had mocked him, they took off the purple from him, and put his own clothes on him, and led him out to crucify him.--MARK xv. 19, 20. Through reasonable diligence, witnesses might have been secured to testify to a majority, at least, of the points above enumerated, touching Messianic prophecy and fulfillment. Besides these are many others too numerous to mention in a treatise of this kind. The question then arises at once: Admitting that all the evidence above suggested, marked "Prophecy" and "Fulfillment," could have been introduced in evidence at the trial before the Sanhedrin; were the judges morally and legally bound to acquit and release Jesus, if they believed this testimony to be true? We answer unhesitatingly, yes; as far as the count in the accusation relating to Messiahship was concerned. But we must remember that the charge against Jesus was not limited to His claims to Messiahship. The indictment against Him was that He claimed to be "the Christ, the Son of God." "Christ" is the English form of the Greek translation of the word meaning "Messiah." The real nature of the charge against the prisoner, then, was that He claimed to be not only the Messiah but also the Son of God. We have seen that "Son of God" conveyed to the Sanhedrin the notion of divine origin and of equality with Jehovah. Even to-day there is no dispute between Jews and Christians in regard to this construction. Jews charge that Jesus made such a claim and Christians agree with them. They are compelled to do so, indeed, or else abjure the fundamental dogma of their faith--the doctrine of the Trinity. Now we approach the consideration of a phase of the subject where theology and law meet and blend. It has been sought to ridicule the contention that Jesus should have been heard on the charge of being the Son of God, in the sense that He was God Himself, because such a claim was not only ridiculous and frivolous as a plea, but because it was blasphemous upon its face; as being opposed, by bare assertion, to the most fundamental and sacred precept of the Mosaic Code and of the teachings of the Prophets: that God was purely and wholly spiritual; that He was not only incorporeal but invisible, indivisible, and incomprehensible. The advocates of this theory declare that Jesus asserted, in the face of this primary belief of the Hebrews, a plurality of gods of which He was a member, and that this assertion destroyed the very cornerstone of Judaism, founded in the teaching of the celebrated passage: "Hear, O Israel: The Lord our God is one Lord." They further declare that when Jesus presented Himself in the flesh, and declared that He was God, He insulted both the intelligence and religious consciousness of His judges by a complete anthropomorphism; and that when He did this, He was not entitled to be heard. One of the most radical of this class is Rabbi Wise who, in "The Martyrdom of Jesus," says: "Had Jesus maintained before a Jewish court to be the Son of God, in the trinitarian sense of the terms, viz., that He was part, person, or incarnation of the Deity, He must have said it in terms to be understood to that effect, as ambiguous words amount to nothing. But if even clearly understood, the court could only have found Him insane, but not guilty of any crime." This is strong language, indeed, and deserves serious consideration. It means nothing less than that Jesus, upon His confession of equality and identity with God, should have been committed as a lunatic, and not tried as a criminal. And the real meaning of this too extreme view is that the claims of Jesus, being a man in the flesh, to membership in a plurality of gods was such an outrageous and unheard-of thing that it amounted to insanity; and that an insane person was not one to be listened to, but to be committed and protected. The purpose of the distinguished Hebrew theologian was to show by the absurdity of the thing that Jesus was never tried before a Hebrew court; that He never claimed to be the Son of God, and that the Evangelical narratives are simply false. The same writer thus continues in the same connection: "Mark reports furthermore, that Jesus did not simply affirm the high priest's question but added: 'And ye shall see the Son of Man sitting on the right hand of power, and coming in the clouds of heaven.' Jesus cannot have said these words. Our reasons are: they are not true; none of the judges and witnesses present ever did see him either sitting on the right hand of power or coming in the clouds of heaven. These words could have originated only after the death of Jesus, when the Jewish Christians expected his immediate return as the Messiah and restorer of the kingdom of heaven, so that those very men could see him coming in the clouds of heaven. Besides, Jesus, the Pharisean Jew, could not have entertained the anthropomorphism that God had a _right hand_."[326] It is only necessary to add that Rabbi Wise may be right, if the Gospel writers were untruthful men. Suffice it to say that we have said enough in support of the veracity of the Evangelists in Part I of this volume. If we are right that they were truthful historians when they published these biographies to the world, Rabbi Wise is wrong; for according to these writers the Sanhedrin did not take the view that Jesus was a crazy man, but that He was a criminal. They accordingly tried Him to the extent of bringing an accusation against Him and of supporting it with a certain kind and amount of testimony, and by then leading Him away to be crucified by the Romans. Our contention is that the trial was not complete, in that His judges did not consider the merits of the defense of Jesus in the proceedings which they conducted against Him. It would be entirely consistent with the plan of this treatise and of the special treatment of this theme to ignore completely the question of the divinity of Jesus; since we have announced a legal and not a theological consideration of the subject. But we repeat that the theological and the legal are inseparably interwoven in a proper handling of Point XII. If Rabbi Wise and others are right that the anthropomorphic pretensions of Jesus robbed Him of the protection of the law, in the sense that His claims to be God in the flesh were not worthy of consideration by a Hebrew court, then we are wrong in making the point that the merits of His defense should have been considered. Our contention is that the claims of Jesus were not so strange and shocking as to place Him without the pale of the law and to deny Him its ordinary protection; that His pretensions were not those of an insane man; that if He was not the Son of God He was guilty of blasphemy; and that if He was the Son of God He was innocent. We further contend that all these things were subjects of legitimate judicial examination by Hebrew judges under Hebrew law, and that Jesus should have had His day in court. A very brief examination of the question of anthropomorphism in its connection with the claims of Jesus will demonstrate the fallacy of the arguments of Rabbi Wise and of those who agree with him. Candor compels us to admit that the Jewish conception of Jehovah at the time of the crucifixion was very foreign to the notion of a God of flesh and bone. Hebrew monotheism taught the doctrine of one God who was purely spiritual, and therefore invisible, intangible, and unapproachable. Judaism delighted to lift its deity above the sensual, material, and corporeal things of earth, and to represent Him as a pure and sinless spirit in a state of awful and supreme transcendence. Our first impression, then, is that this dogma of divine unity and spirituality must have received a dreadful shock when Jesus, a carpenter of Nazareth, whose mother, father, brothers, and sisters were known, confronted the high priest and declared to him that He was God. But the shock was certainly not so great that Caiaphas and his colleagues, after a moment's composure and reflection, could not have concluded that the pretensions of Jesus were not wholly at variance with the revelations of Hebrew theology in the earlier years of the Commonwealth of Israel. They might have judged His claims to be unfounded, but they were certainly not justified in pronouncing Him insane, or in ignoring His rights under the law to be heard and to have His defense considered. Their arrest and trial of the prisoner was the consummation of a number of secret meetings in which the astounding personality and marvelous performances of Jesus were debated and discussed with fear and trembling. The raising of Lazarus from the dead had created a frightful panic among the Sadducean oligarchy. Far from regarding Him as an obscure person whose claims were ridiculous and whose mind was unbalanced, the priests feared lest all men might believe on Him, and boldly declared that such was the influence of His deeds that His single life might be balanced against the existence of a whole nation.[327] What the judges of the Sanhedrin should have done in examining the merits of the defense of Jesus was: (1) To consider whether, in the light of Hebrew scripture and tradition, a god of flesh and bone, representing the second person of a Duality or a Trinity of gods, was possible; (2) to weigh thoroughly the claims of Jesus, in the light of testimony properly adduced at the trial, that He was this second person of a Duality or Trinity of gods. In making this examination, let us bear in mind, the members of the court were not to look forward, but backward. They were to examine the past, not the future, in reference to the present. Furthermore, they were not to consider so much a Trinity as a Duality of gods; for it must be remembered that the Holy Ghost was not a feature of the trial. The Athanasian creed and the proceedings of the Nicene Council were not binding upon Caiaphas and his fellow-judges. Nor were the teachings of the New Testament scriptures published to the world more than a generation after the trial. They were to consider the divine pretensions of Jesus in the light of the teachings and revelations of the Law and the Prophets. They were to measure His claims by these standards in the light of the evidence adduced before them. With a view to a thorough and systematic examination of the merits of the defense of Jesus, Caiaphas, as presiding officer of the Sanhedrin, should have propounded to his fellow-judges the following initial questions: (1) Do the Law and the Prophets reveal the doctrine of a plurality of gods among the Israelites? That is, has Jehovah ever begotten, or has He ever promised to beget, a Son of equal divinity with Himself? Was this Son to be, or is He to be born of a woman; and to have, therefore, the form of a man and the attributes of a human being? Was this Son to be, or is He to be at any time identical with the Father? Do the Law and the Prophets tell us unmistakably that Jehovah ever appeared upon the earth in human form and exhibited human attributes? Do they contain a promise from the Father that He would send His Son to the earth to be the Redeemer of men and the Regenerator of the world? (2) Do the credentials of Jesus, the prisoner at the bar, in the light of the evidence before us, entitle Him to be considered this Son and Ambassador of God, sent from the Father to redeem mankind? It follows logically and necessarily that if affirmative answers were not given to the first set of questions an examination of the second would be useless. Let us conceive, then, that the judges of the Sanhedrin had employed this method. What answers, we may ask, would they have developed to these questions from the Sacred Books? At the outset it is safe to say that negative answers would have been given, if the judges had considered the claims of Jesus with reference alone to the prevailing Pharisaic teachings of the days of Jesus. And in this connection let us note that the Hebrew conception of Jehovah had materially changed in the time intervening between the Mosaic dispensation and the coming of the Christ. The spiritual growth of the nation had been characterized at every step by marked aversion to anthropomorphism--the ascription to God of human form and attributes. In the Pentateuch there is a prevailing anthropomorphic idea of Jehovah. He is frequently talked about as if He were a man. Human passions and emotions are repeatedly ascribed to Him. This was inevitable among a primitive people whose crude religious consciousness sought to frame from the analogy of human nature a visible symbol of the Deity and a sensible emblem of religious faith. All early religions have manifested the same anthropomorphic tendencies. Both Judaism and Christianity have long since planted themselves upon the fundamental proposition that God is a spirit. But both these systems of religion have in all ages been compelled to run the gantlet of two opposing tendencies: one of which sought by a living, personal communion with God through Moses and through Christ, by means of human attributes and symbols, an intimate knowledge and immediate benefit of the divine nature; the other, from a horror of anthropomorphism, tending to make God purely passionless and impersonal, thus reducing Him to a bare conception without form or quality, thus making Him a blank negation. The successive steps in the progress of weeding out anthropomorphisms from the Pentateuch may be clearly traced in later Hebrew literature. The Prophets themselves were at times repelled by the sensuous conceptions of God revealed by the writings of Moses. The great lawgiver had attributed to Jehovah the quality of repentance, a human attribute. "And it _repented_ the Lord that he had made man on the earth, and it grieved him at his heart," says Genesis vi. 6. But a later writer, the prophet Samuel, denied that God had such a quality. "And also the Strength of Israel will not lie nor repent: for he is not a man, that he should repent."[328] And the prophet Hosea affirms this declaration when he places in the mouth of Jehovah the affirmation: "For I am God and not man."[329] At a still later age, when the notion of the supreme transcendence of Jehovah had become prevalent, it was considered objectionable to make God say, "I will dwell in your midst"; as a substitute, "I shall cause you to dwell" was adopted. "To behold the face of God" was not a repulsive phrase in the ancient days of Hebrew plainness and simplicity, but later times sought to eradicate the anthropomorphism by saying instead, "to appear before God." The Septuagint, the Greek version of the Bible in use at the time of Christ, reveals the same tendency toward paraphrasing or spiritualizing the anthropomorphic phrases of the older Bible. In this translation the "image of God" of the older Hebrew literature becomes "the glory of God," and "the mouth of God" is expressed by "the voice of the Lord." The Septuagint was written more than a century before the birth of Jesus, and we may safely assert that at the beginning of our era the Jews not only affirmatively proclaimed the doctrine of divine unity and pure spirituality, in relation to the person and character of Jehovah, but that they boldly and indignantly denied and denounced any attempt to make of God a man or to attribute to Him human qualities. But when we say "the Jews," we mean the dominant religious sect of the nation, the Pharisees. We should not forget, in this connection, that the primary difference between the Sadducees and the Pharisees was in the varying intensity with which they loved the Law of Moses and adhered to its teachings. We have seen in Part II of this volume that the Mishna, the oral law, was really more highly esteemed by the Pharisaic Jews than was the Mosaic Code. But the Sadducees planted themselves squarely upon the Pentateuch and denied that the traditions of the Scribes were of binding force. "The Sadducees were a body of aristocrats opposed to the oral law and the later developments of Judaism." Now what views, we may ask, did the Sadducees entertain of the possibility of God appearing to men in the flesh? In other words, what was their notion, at the time of Christ, of the anthropomorphisms of the Pentateuch, which was their ultimate guide and standard in all matters of legal and religious interpretation? These questions are important in this connection, since Caiaphas and the large majority of his colleagues in the Great Sanhedrin were Sadducees and held the fate of Jesus in their hands. Candor compels us to admit that we believe that the Sadducees agreed with the Pharisees that Jehovah was a pure and sinless spirit. But we feel equally sure that their knowledge of the Pentateuch, in which at times anthropomorphism is strongly accentuated, taught them that Jehovah had not only appeared in the flesh among men in olden times, but that it was not at all impossible or unreasonable that He should come again in the same form. But this much is certain: that in determining whether Jesus could be both man and God the Sadducees would be disposed to ignore the traditions of the Pharisees and "the later developments of Judaism," and appeal direct to the law of Moses. Jesus Himself, if He had been disposed to make a defense of His claims, and His judges had been disposed to hear Him, would have appealed to the same legal standard. Christ more than once manifested a disposition to appeal to the Mosaic Code, as a modern citizen would appeal from mere statutes and the decisions of the courts, to the constitution, as the fundamental law of the land. Mark tells us that in denouncing the Pharisees, He used this language: "And he said unto them, Full well ye reject the commandment of God, that ye may keep your own tradition.... Making the word of God of none effect through your tradition, which ye have delivered: and many such like things do ye."[330] Hebrew sacred literature is filled with anecdotes, often characterized by raillery and jests, of how the Sadducces denounced the Pharisees for their attempts to nullify Mosaic injunction by their peculiar interpretation. Now in view of what we have just said, are we not justified in assuming that if the judges had accorded Jesus full liberty of defense He would have appealed to the Pentateuch, with the approbation of His judges, to show that God had appeared among men in the flesh, and that a plurality in the Godhead was plainly taught? Would He not then have appealed to the Prophets to show that Jehovah had spoken of a begotten Son who was none other than Almighty God Himself? Would He not have shown from both the Law and the Prophets that the angel of Jehovah, who was none other than Himself, had frequently, in ages past, acted as the ambassador of God in numerous visits to the earth, on missions of love and mercy among men? Would He not have proved to them that this angel of Jehovah had been at certain times in the past none other than Jehovah Himself? Could He not have pointed out to them that their whole sacred literature was filled with prophecies foretelling the coming of this Son and Ambassador of God to the earth to redeem fallen man? Could He not then have summoned a hundred witnesses to prove His own connection with these prophecies, to show His virgin birth, and to give an account of the numerous miracles which He had wrought, and that were the best evidence of His divine character? Let us imagine that Caiaphas, as judge, had demanded of Jesus, the prisoner, to produce Biblical evidence that God had ever begotten or had promised to beget a Son who was equal with Himself. The following passages might have been produced: Psa. ii. 7: Thou art my son; this day have I begotten thee. Isa. ix. 6: For unto us a child is born, unto us a son is given: and the government shall be upon his shoulder: and his name shall be called Wonderful, Counselor, The mighty God, The everlasting Father, The Prince of Peace. What closer identity, we may ask, could be demanded between the Father and the Son than is revealed by this language of Isaiah, "and his (the son's) name shall be called The mighty God, The everlasting Father?" What more exact equality could be asked than the same words suggest? What stronger proof of plurality in the Godhead could be demanded? Again, let us suppose that His judges had demanded of Jesus scriptural proof that the divine Son of God was to be born of a woman, and was to have, therefore, the form of a man and the attributes of a human being. The following passages might have been produced: Isa. vii. 14: Therefore the Lord himself shall give you a sign; Behold, a virgin shall conceive and bear a son, and shall call his name Immanuel. Gen. iii. 15: And I will put enmity between thee and the woman, and between thy seed and her seed; it shall bruise thy head, and thou shalt bruise his heel. Enoch lxii. 5: And one Portion of them will look on the other, and they will be terrified, and their countenance will fall, and they will seize them when they see _that Son of Woman_ sitting on the throne of his glory. The first of these passages needs no comment. It is perfectly clear and speaks for itself. Regarding the second, it may be observed that after the fall of Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden it was announced that the seed of the woman should bruise the serpent's head. This announcement contained, when viewed in the light of subsequent revelations, both a promise and a prophecy; a promise of a Redeemer of fallen man, and a prophecy that He would finally triumph over all the powers of sin and darkness whose father was Satan, who had entered into the serpent. The "seed of the woman" foretold that the Redeemer would have a human nature; His triumph over Satan suggested His divine origin and power. Again, continuing the examination, let us suppose that Caiaphas had informed Jesus that His pretensions to be God in the flesh were not only not sanctioned by but were offensive to the current teachings of Judaism in relation to the person and character of Jehovah. Let us suppose, further, that the high priest had informed the prisoner that he and his fellow-judges, who were Sadducees in faith and a majority in number of the Sanhedrin, did not feel themselves bound by Pharisaic tradition and "the later developments of Judaism"; that they preferred the Mosaic Code as a standard of legal and religious judgment; that the anthropomorphisms of the Pentateuch were not particularly offensive to them, for the reason that they had not been to Moses; and that if He, the prisoner at the bar, could cite instances related by Moses where Jehovah had appeared among men, having the form of a human being, His case would be greatly strengthened; on the ground that if God had ever appeared in the flesh on one occasion it was not unreasonable, or at least impossible, that He should so appear again. In proof that God had appeared in the flesh, or at least in human form, among men, the following passages might have been adduced: Gen. xviii. 1-8: And the Lord appeared unto him in the plains of Mamre: and he sat in the tent door in the heat of the day; And he lifted up his eyes and looked, and, lo, three men stood by him: and when he saw them, he ran to meet them from the tent door, and bowed himself toward the ground, And said, My Lord, if now I have found favour in thy sight, pass not away, I pray thee, from thy servant: ... And Abraham ran unto the herd, and fetched a calf tender and good, and gave it unto a young man; and he hasted to dress it. And he took butter, and milk, and the calf which he had dressed, and set it before them; and he stood by them under the tree, and they did eat. Gen. xvi. 10-13: And the angel of the Lord said unto her, I will multiply thy seed exceedingly, that it shall not be numbered for multitude. And the angel of the Lord said unto her, Behold, thou art with child, and shalt bear a son, and shalt call his name Ishmael; because the Lord hath heard thy affliction.... And she called the name of the Lord that spake unto her, Thou God seest me: for she said, Have I also here looked after him that seeth me? Gen. xxii. 11, 12: And the angel of the Lord called unto him out of heaven, and said, Abraham, Abraham: and he said, Here am I. And he said, Lay not thine hand upon the lad, neither do thou any thing unto him: for now I know that thou fearest God, seeing thou hast not withheld thy son, thine only son, from me. Ex. iii. 2-6: And the Angel of the Lord appeared unto him in a flame of fire out of the midst of a bush: and he looked, and, behold, the bush burned with fire, and the bush was not consumed. And Moses said, I will not turn aside, and see this great sight, why the bush is not burnt. And when the Lord saw that he turned aside to see, God called unto him out of the midst of the bush, and said, Moses, Moses. And he said, Here am I. And he said, Draw not nigh hither: put off thy shoes from off thy feet; for the place whereon thou standest is holy ground. Moreover he said, I am the God of thy father, the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob. And Moses hid his face; for he was afraid to look upon God. From the first passage above cited it is clear that Jehovah, in the form of a man, appeared to Abraham in the plains of Mamre. A contributor to "The Jewish Encyclopedia" declares that these three men were angels in the shape of human beings of extraordinary beauty but that they were not at once recognized as angels.[331] The Christian commentators are generally agreed that it was Jehovah who was present in human form.[332] The other members of the company are declared by some of them to be the second and third persons of the Trinity. Plausibility is given to this contention by the fact that Abraham first saw one person, the Lord; then he looked up and saw three; he then advanced to meet the three, and, addressing them, used a singular epithet, "My Lord." The form of the address, together with the movements of Abraham, seem to suggest three in one and one in three. But with this theory we are not seriously concerned, as our present purpose is to show that Jehovah occasionally appeared in human form upon the earth in the olden days. A plurality of gods is suggested, however, by the passage, if Christian interpretation be applied; for if one of these men was Jehovah, as Abraham's language seems to indicate, and as modern Christian interpretation generally maintains, why could not the other two men have also been gods in the form of the Son and the Holy Spirit? If the Jewish commentator's opinion, to which we have referred heretofore, be plausible--that the three men were angels in human form--why is it not equally as plausible to suppose that a god or gods should also appear in human form? But at all events these three men were not ordinary human beings. He who maintains that they were assaults the intelligence of either the translators of the Bible or of Abraham, or both; for the Hebrew patriarch believed that Jehovah was present as a guest in his house, and he spread a hospitable meal for him. The language of Genesis very clearly indicates as much. And the question may be asked: If Abraham could not recognize Jehovah, who could or can? In the second of the above extracts from Genesis the angel of the Lord appeared unto Hagar and said to her: "I will multiply thy seed exceedingly, that it shall not be numbered for multitude." And Hagar made reply: "And she called the name of the Lord that spake unto her, Thou God seest me." This passage plainly teaches that the angel of the Lord and Jehovah were sometimes identical. The third passage heretofore cited from Genesis also teaches the identity of the angel of the Lord and of God Himself, in the matter of the attempted sacrifice of Isaac by Abraham. It was the same voice, that of the angel of the Lord, that said: "For now I know that thou fearest God, seeing thou hast not withheld thy son, thine only son from me." Again, the identity of the angel of the Lord and of Jehovah is unmistakably shown from the account of the voice that cried from the burning bush: "I am the God of thy father, the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob. And Moses hid his face, for he was afraid to look upon God." Concerning the manifestation of Jehovah to men in angelic and human form a modern writer says: "Much has been written concerning a certain Mal'akh Yaweh (messenger of Jehovah) who appears in the Old Testament. I say 'a certain' Mal'akh Yaweh, because it is not every Mal'akh Yaweh that appears to which I refer. In most passages the Mal'akh Yaweh is simply an angel sent by the Almighty to communicate his will or purposes to men. These angels are distinctly apprehended as created intelligences, wholly separate and diverse from God. But there is a class of passages in which the Mal'akh Yaweh appears as a self-manifestation of God. He appears indeed in human form and speaks of God in the third person. But those to whom he appears are oppressed by the consciousness that they have seen God and must die. They see in him an impersonation of Deity such as is found in no other angel. He is to their minds not merely a messenger from God but the revelation of the being of God. The Christian fathers for the most part identify him with the Logos of the New Testament. But there is as much reason to adopt the opinion of many modern writers who hold that he is Jehovah himself appearing in human form, for he is explicitly addressed as Jehovah (Judges vi. 11-24)."[333] The identity of the angel of Jehovah and of Jehovah Himself could not be more conclusively proved than in the appearance to Gideon, related in the passage above cited, Judges vi. 11-24. The absolute identity is revealed in verses 22, 23: "And when Gideon perceived that he was an angel of the Lord, Gideon said, Alas, O Lord God! for because I have seen an angel of the Lord face to face. And the Lord said unto him, Peace be unto thee; fear not: thou shalt not die." Now let us suppose that Caiaphas and the Sanhedrin had received these passages favorably; that they had become convinced that Jehovah had appeared in the olden days in the form of angels and of men; that at one time He was identical with a man, and at another with an angel whom He had sent. Let us suppose further that the judges of Jesus had demanded of Him a passage of ancient Scriptures connecting Him even remotely with this messenger of God. The following passage might have been produced: Ex. xxiii. 20, 21: Behold, I send an Angel before thee, to keep thee in the way, and to bring thee into the place which I have prepared. Beware of him, and obey his voice, provoke him not; for he will not pardon your transgressions: for my name is in him. The concluding paragraph of the last cited passage, "My name is in him," is equivalent to "I am in him." The mere name of God is often used to denote God Himself as manifested. For instance, in I Kings viii. 29 is contained the statement, "My name shall be there"; that is, "There will I dwell." And when it is said that the name of Jehovah would be in the angel of Jehovah it is equivalent to saying that Jehovah Himself would be present in His messenger which He had sent before Him. The passage further teaches that the messenger of Jehovah to the earth bore a commission to pardon sin, or not to, according to his pleasure. The Sanhedrin were undoubtedly aware that Jesus claimed the same power by virtue of authority vested in Him by His Father. But it may be imagined that Caiaphas was perfectly willing to concede that Jehovah had appeared in human form upon the earth, but was not inclined to believe that He had ever manifested human passions and emotions, as Jesus had done when He denounced on several occasions the hypocrisy of the Pharisees; and, above all, when He overthrew the tables in the Temple, and, applying a lash to their backs, drove out the money-changers.[334] Let us imagine that the high priest demanded of the prisoner proof from the ancient Scriptures that Jehovah was possessed of ordinary human attributes; and particularly that He was at times disposed to fight. Jesus might have produced the following passages to show that Jehovah, His Father, had manifested in times past the ordinary human passions and emotions of repentance, grief, jealousy, anger, graciousness, love, and hate: Ex. xv. 3, 6: The Lord is a man of war.... Thy right hand, O Lord, is become glorious in power: thy right hand, O Lord, hath dashed in pieces the enemy. Gen. vi. 6: And it _repented_ the Lord that he had made man on the earth, and it grieved him at his heart. Deut. vi. 15: For the Lord thy God is a _jealous_ God among you, lest the anger of the Lord thy God be kindled against thee, and destroy thee from off the face of the earth. Psa. cxi. 4: He hath made his wonderful works to be remembered: the Lord is _gracious_ and full of _compassion_. I Kings x. 9: Because the Lord _loved_ Israel forever, therefore made he thee king, to do judgment and justice. Prov. vi. 16: These six things doth the Lord _hate_: yea, seven are an abomination unto him. And as a final step in the examination let us imagine that Caiaphas and his colleagues had stated to Jesus that they were satisfied, from the authorities cited, that Jehovah had, in ancient days, appeared upon the earth in human form and had exhibited human attributes; that Jehovah had begotten a Son who was equal in power and majesty with Himself; that this Son had been begotten of a woman and possessed, therefore, human form and attributes; that this Jehovah had sent an angel messenger to the earth with a commission to pardon sins. Let us imagine further that the judges had demanded of the prisoner that He present and prove His credentials as the divine ambassador of God from heaven to men on earth; that He conform His personal claims to heavenly Messiahship to ancient prophecy by producing evidence before them in court. What facts, we may ask, could Jesus have shown to establish His claims to Messiahship and to Sonship of the Father? To attempt to originate a defense for Jesus would be unnecessary, if not actually impertinent and sacrilegious. We are fully justified, however, in assuming that if called upon to prove His claims to Messiahship He would have made the same reply to the Sanhedrin that He had already made to the Jews out of court who asked Him: "What sign shewest thou, then, that we may see, and believe thee? what dost thou work?"[335] "How long dost thou make us to doubt? If thou be the Christ, tell us plainly. Jesus answered them, I told you, and ye believed not: _the works that I do in my Father's name, they bear witness of me_."[336] Again, He would have doubtless made the same reply to Caiaphas that He did to the embassy from John the Baptist who came to inquire if He was really the Messiah. "Jesus answered and said unto them, Go and shew John again those things which ye do hear and see: The blind receive their sight, and the lame walk, the lepers are cleansed, and the deaf hear, the dead are raised up, and the poor have the gospel preached to them."[337] Under a fair trial, in daylight, with full freedom of defense to the accused, abundant evidence could have been secured of the miraculous powers of Jesus and of the truthfulness of His pretensions to a divine origin. Testimony could have been introduced that would have been not only competent but entirely satisfactory. The New Testament narratives tell us of about forty miracles that Jesus performed during His life. The closing verse of St. John intimates that He performed many that were never reported. The circumstances surrounding the working of these wonders were such as to make them peculiarly competent as evidence and to carry conviction of their genuineness, when they were once introduced. In the first place, miracles were entirely capable of being proved by testimony. If those persons who had known Lazarus intimately during his lifetime saw him dead on one day, and on the fourth day afterwards saw him alive and walking the streets, the senses would be perfectly competent to decide and the fact that a miracle had been performed would be conclusively proved. And it may be added that a dozen witnesses who were entirely competent to testify could have been summoned to the defense of Jesus in the matter of raising Lazarus from the dead. Again, we must remember that the miracles of Jesus were performed in the most public manner, in the street, on the highway, in far-away Galilee, and at the very gates of Jerusalem. Both His friends and enemies, men and women, were witnesses of their performance. The number and publicity of these wonder-working performances rendered it possible for the Sanhedrin to call before them hundreds and thousands of competent witnesses who had seen and felt the manifestation of the divine power of the prisoner in their presence. Again, the miracles of Jesus were such as to render them subject to the test of the senses, when submitted to examination. If Caiaphas and his fellow-judges had decided that there was fraud in the matter of the alleged raising of Lazarus from the dead, because the brother of Martha and Mary was not really dead, but simply swooned or slept; if they had decided that the man sick of the palsy was not cured by miracle, but by faith; nevertheless, they could not have charged fraud and faith cure in the matter of the stilling of the tempest or the feeding of the five thousand or the walking on the sea. They would have been forced to conclude that the witnesses had lied or that miracles had been wrought. In the case of the feeding of the five thousand, the witnesses would have been too numerous to brand with falsehood. But, we may ask, was the performance of miracles by Jesus, if believed by the Sanhedrin, sufficient evidence of the divine origin of Jesus? This question we are not prepared to answer positively, either yes or no. We can only venture the personal opinion that the act of raising a person indisputably dead, to life again, would be an astounding miracle, an achievement that could be wrought by the hand of a God alone. The trouble with the question is that men like Elijah raised the dead.[338] It is true that there is no pretension that Elijah was divine or that he wrought the miracle by virtue of any peculiar power within himself. The Scriptures plainly state that he asked God to raise the dead to life through him. The same is true of the raising of Lazarus by Jesus.[339] But Christ seems to have raised the daughter of Jairus[340] and the son of the widow of Nain[341] from the dead by virtue of the strength of His own divinity; for there is no suggestion that the power of God was either previously invoked or subsequently acknowledged. As to the weight which the testimony of the miracles of Jesus should have had with Caiaphas and the other members of the court, we have a valuable indication in the opinion expressed by Nicodemus, who was himself a member of the Sanhedrin, when he said to Jesus: "We know that thou art a teacher come from God: for no man can do these miracles that thou doest, except God be with him."[342] If Nicodemus, "a ruler of the Jews" and one of the leading members of their highest tribunal, believed that Jesus was divine because of the wonders that He had wrought, why should not a knowledge of these miracles by the other members of the Sanhedrin have produced the same impression? Nicodemus, it is true, was a friend of Jesus, but he was not a disciple. And the very timidity with which he expressed his friendship, having come at night to pay his compliments to the Master, demonstrates the deep impression that the miraculous powers of the Christ had made upon him. But the judges of Jesus were not limited to the evidence of miracles as a proof of the divinity of the prisoner in their midst. They should have weighed "in the sincerity of their conscience" the fact that Jesus was born in Bethlehem in fulfillment of the prophecy contained in Micah v. 2; that He was sprung from the House of David in conformity with the teachings in Jeremiah xxiii. 5, 6; that John the Baptist was His forerunner like unto Elijah, who had come to prepare the way according to the prophecy in Malachi iii. 1; that He had begun to preach in Galilee, as foretold in Isaiah ix. 1, 2; that the scepter had departed from Judah and the lawgiver from between his feet, as prophesied in Genesis xlix. 10, which fact it was believed would herald the approach of the Messiah; that He had made His public entry into Jerusalem riding upon an ass, as foretold in Zechariah ix. 9; and that He had been betrayed into their hands by one of His own friends, in fulfillment of prophecies contained in Psalms xli. 9 and Zechariah xi. 12, 13. This cumulative evidence, this collective proof, must have carried overwhelming conviction to the minds and the hearts of fair and impartial judges. More than one Nicodemus would have arisen to plead the cause of Jesus if this testimony had been adduced before a free-minded, open-hearted, disinterested tribunal. More than one Joseph of Arimathea would have refused assent in a hostile verdict against a prisoner in whose favor the record of fact was so pronounced. In determining the weight that this evidence should have had in affecting the decision of the judges we must not forget that a Jewish prisoner was not required to prove his innocence. It was incumbent upon the Commonwealth of Israel to establish guilt beyond all doubt. We should also remember that the peculiar tendency of the Hebrew system of criminal procedure was in the direction of complete protection to the accused. Not reasonable doubt merely, but all doubt was resolved in his favor. It was a maxim of the Hebrew law that "the Sanhedrin was to save, not to destroy life." Pretext after pretext was sought to acquit. "The primary object of the Hebrew judicial system," says Benny, "was to render the conviction of an innocent person impossible. All the ingenuity of the Jewish legists was directed to the attainment of this end." If this generous and merciful tendency of Hebrew law had been duly observed, would not the production of the evidence above noted have resulted in the acquittal of Jesus? But, at this point, let us return to the consideration of the real meaning of the objection urged in Point XII. The irregularity therein alleged is that the Sanhedrin paid no attention whatever to the defense of Jesus. And herein was the real error. The members of that court might have rejected as false the claims of the Nazarene to Messiahship. They might have denounced as fraudulent his pretensions to miraculous powers. They could not for this reason have been charged with judicial unfairness, if they had first heard his defense and had then "weighed it in the sincerity of their conscience." Infallibility of judgment cannot be demanded of judicial officers. In closing the discussion of errors committed at the night trial in the palace of Caiaphas, the reader should be reminded that the twelve Points above mentioned are not exhaustive of the irregularities. Others might be mentioned. It seems that Jesus, being the accused, should not have been put under oath.[343] On the days on which capital verdicts were pronounced Hebrew judges were required to mourn and fast.[344] But there was evidently no mourning and fasting by Caiaphas and his colleagues at the time of the condemnation of Jesus. Again, there is no evidence that Antecedent Warning was properly administered. Still other errors might be noted, if a legal presumption in favor of the correctness of the record did not prevent. The irregularities which we have heretofore discussed, it is believed, exhaust all the material errors committed at the first session of the Sanhedrin. At least, no others are revealed by the Gospel records. _The Morning Session of the Sanhedrin._--About three hours after the close of the night session in the palace of Caiaphas, that is about six o'clock in the morning, the Sanhedrin reconvened in a second session. In the interval between these sittings Jesus was brutalized by His keepers. Exactly what the priests were doing we do not know. They were probably busily engaged in perfecting plans for the destruction of the prisoner in their charge. The daylight meeting is thus reported in Matthew xxvii. 1: "When the morning was come, all the chief priests and elders of the people took counsel against Jesus to put him to death." In Mark xv. 1 the same session is thus recorded: "And straightway in the morning the chief priests held a consultation with the elders and scribes and the whole council, and bound Jesus, and carried him away, and delivered him to Pilate." The exact nature of this morning sitting, whether a regular trial or an informal gathering, is not certainly known. Meyer, Ellicott, and Lichtenstein maintain that this second session was nothing more than a prolongation of the night trial, perhaps with a brief recess, and that its special object was to convene for consultation concerning the carrying out of the sentence which had already been pronounced against Jesus.[345] But this view is entirely exceptional. It is maintained by the greater number of reputable authorities that the second sitting was in the nature of a second trial. The solution of the difficulty seems to turn upon the account given by St. Luke, for St. John records the details of neither the night nor the morning session. St. Luke describes a regular trial, but it is not positively known whether his account refers to the night or to the morning meeting. If his report refers to the same trial as that described in Matthew xxvi. 57-68 and in Mark xiv. 53-65, then we have only the brief notices in Matthew xxvii. 1 and in Mark xv. 1 concerning the morning session, which indicate only a very brief and informal meeting of the Sanhedrin at daybreak. On the other hand, if the report of St. Luke refers to the daylight meeting of the Sanhedrin referred to by St. Matthew and St. Mark then we have received from the third Evangelist a description of a regular trial at the second session of the Sanhedrin. Andrews has thus expressed himself very cogently concerning this matter: Our decision as to a second and distinct session of the Sanhedrin will mainly depend upon the place we give to the account in Luke xxii. 66-71. Is this examination of Jesus identical with that first session of Matthew xxvi. 57-68, and of Mark xiv. 53-65? Against this identity are some strong objections: First, The mention of time by Luke: "As soon as it was day." This corresponds well to the time of the morning session of Matthew and Mark, but not to the time when Jesus was first led before the Sanhedrin, which must have been two or three hours before day. Second, The place of the meeting: "They led Him into their council," [Greek: anêgagon auton eis to synedrion heautôn]. This is rendered by some: "They led Him up into their council chamber," or the place where they usually held their sessions. Whether this council chamber was the room Gazith at the east corner of the court of the temple, is not certain. Lightfoot (on Matthew xxvi. 3) conjectures that the Sanhedrin was driven from this its accustomed seat half a year or thereabout before the death of Christ. But if this were so, still the "Tabernæ," where it established its sessions, were shops near the gate Shusan, and so connected with the temple. They went up to that room where they usually met. Third, The dissimilarity of the proceedings, as stated by Luke, which shows that this was no formal trial. There is here no mention of witnesses--no charges brought to be proved against Him. He is simply asked to tell them if He is the Christ ("If thou art the Christ, tell us," R. V.); and this seems plainly to point to the result of the former session. Then, having confessed Himself to be the Christ, the Son of God, He was condemned to death for blasphemy. It was only necessary now that He repeat His confession, and hence this question is put directly to Him: "Art thou the Christ? tell us." His reply, "If I tell you, ye will not believe; and if I also ask you, ye will not answer me, nor let me go," points backward to his former confession. To His reply they only answer by asking, "Art thou then the Son of God?" The renewed avowal that He is the Son of God, heard by them all from His own lips, opens the way for His immediate delivery into Pilate's hands. Fourth, The position which Luke gives (xxii. 63-65) to the insults and abuse heaped upon Jesus. There can be no doubt that they are the same mentioned by Matthew and Mark as occurring immediately after the sentence had been first pronounced. From all this it is a probable, though not a certain conclusion, that Luke (xxii. 66-71) refers to the same meeting of the Sanhedrin mentioned by Matthew (xxvii. 1) and Mark (xv. 1), and relates, in part, what then took place. (Alford thinks that Luke has confused things and relates as happening at the second session what really happened at the first.) This meeting was, then, a morning session convened to ratify formally what had been done before with haste and informality. The circumstances under which its members had been earlier convened, at the palace of Caiaphas, sufficiently show that the legal forms, which they were so scrupulous in observing, had not been complied with.[346] If then the second session of the Sanhedrin was in the nature of a regular trial, what were the facts of the proceedings? St. Luke says: "And as soon as it was day, the elders of the people and the chief priests and the scribes came together, and led him into their council, saying, Art thou the Christ? tell us. And he said unto them, If I tell you, ye will not believe: And if I also ask you, ye will not answer me, nor let me go. Hereafter shall the Son of man sit on the right hand of the power of God. Then said they all, Art thou then the Son of God? And he said unto them, Ye say that I am. And they said, What need we any further witness? for we ourselves have heard of his own mouth."[347] The reader will readily perceive the source of the difficulty which we have just discussed. This report of St. Luke points both ways, toward both the night and morning sessions. "_And as soon as it was day_" clearly indicates a daybreak meeting, but the remainder of the account bears a most striking resemblance to the reports of the night trial given by St. Matthew and St. Mark. This seeming discrepancy is very easily reconciled, however, when we reflect that the second trial required by Hebrew law to be held in every case where a verdict of guilt had been pronounced, was virtually a repetition of the first trial. Benny tells us that the second trial was a critical examination of the trial of the first day, in which the questions and answers originally asked and made were carefully reviewed and reëxamined.[348] Is it very strange, then, that at the morning trial described by St. Luke substantially the same questions are asked and answers given as are found in the reports of the night trial by St. Matthew and St. Mark? We may now ask: What was the purpose of this second trial? Why did not the first trial suffice? According to the most reliable authorities, the answer to this question is to be found in that provision of the Hebrew law which required two trials instead of one, in every case where the prisoner had been found guilty at the first trial. Not only were there to be two trials, but they were to be held on different days. The morning session of the Sanhedrin was intended, therefore, to give a semblance of legality and regularity to this requirement of Hebrew law. But we shall see how completely the Sanhedrin failed in this design. "What legitimacy," says Keim, "might be lacking in the proceedings of the nocturnal sitting of the Sanhedrin, was to be completely made up by the morning sitting, without prejudice to the authority and the--in the main point--decisive action of the former.... There nevertheless was no lack of illegality. The most striking instance of this was the fact that though they wished to bring about an extension of the procedure over two days they had in fact only two sittings, and not two separate days. But contempt of the legal ordinances was much more seriously shown by the absence of any investigation into the circumstances of the case at the second sitting, although _both law and tradition demanded such an investigation_."[349] If "both law and tradition demanded such an investigation," that is, if the second trial of the case on the second day of the proceedings was required to be formal and in the nature of an action _de novo_; if the second trial was required by law to be characterized by all the formality, solemnity, and legality of the first trial; what errors, we may ask, are disclosed by the reports of St. Luke, St. Matthew, and St. Mark in the proceedings against Jesus conducted by the Sanhedrin at the morning session? To be brief, reply may be made that the irregularities were virtually the same as those that occurred at the night trial. The same precipitancy that was forbidden by Hebrew law is apparent. This haste prevented, of course, that careful deliberation and painstaking investigation of the case which the Mosaic Code as well as the rules of the Mishna imperatively demanded. It is true that the second trial was not conducted at night. But the Passover Feast was still in progress, and no court could legally sit at such a time. The Sanhedrin at the second session seems to have been still sitting in the palace of Caiaphas instead of the Hall of Hewn Stones, the legal meeting place of the court. This we learn from a passage in St. John.[350] Again, no witnesses seem to have been summoned, and the accused was convicted upon his uncorroborated confession. And finally, the verdict at the second trial, as was the case in that of the first, seems to have been unanimous, and therefore illegal. This unanimity is indicated by the combined reports of St. Matthew, St. Mark, and St. Luke. St. Matthew says: "When the morning was come, _all_ the chief priests and elders of the people took counsel against Jesus to put Him to death." St. Mark says: "And straightway in the morning, the chief priests held a consultation with the elders and scribes and the _whole council_, and bound Jesus, and carried him away, and delivered him to Pilate." These accounts of the first two Evangelists very clearly state that the full Sanhedrin was present at the morning trial. Then St. Luke very explicitly explains the nature and manner of the verdict: "Then said they _all_, Art thou then the Son of God? And he said unto them, Ye say that I am. And they said, What need we any further witness? for we ourselves have heard of his own mouth." It may be objected that no formal verdict was pronounced at the second trial. Such a verdict would have been expressed in these words: "Thou, Jesus, art guilty."[351] While such words are not expressly reported by the Evangelists, the account of St. Luke taken in connection with the report of St. Mark of the night trial, which the morning session was intended to confirm, clearly indicates that such a verdict must have been pronounced. A reasonable inference from the whole context of the synoptic writers in describing both trials certainly justifies such a conclusion. The question again arises: If the full Sanhedrin was present at the morning session and if all the members condemned Jesus, either with or without a formal verdict, is it not true that both Nicodemus and Joseph of Arimathea, who were doubtless members of the court, were arrayed against the Christ? If they were hostile in their attitude toward Him, either openly or by acquiescence at the morning session, does this fact not help to support the contention made under Point IX that they voted against Him at the night trial? We are well aware that there is much opposition to this view, but we are, nevertheless, compelled to agree rather reluctantly with Keim that "it is a pure supposition that members of the council who were secret friends of Jesus--whose existence, moreover, cannot be established--either raised an opposition in one of the sessions, or abstained from voting, or were not present."[352] The plain language of the Scriptures indicates: (1) That both Nicodemus[353] and Joseph of Arimathea[354] were members of the Great Sanhedrin; (2) that they were both present at both trials;[355] and (3) that they both either voted against Him or tacitly acquiesced in the judgments pronounced against Him.[356] We have already discussed under Point IX the passage in Luke xxiii. 51 referring to the fact that Joseph of Arimathea "had not consented to the counsel and deed of them," which seems to furnish refutation of the contention which we have made, as far as such contention relates to Joseph of Arimathea. Suffice it to note the opinion of Keim that "the passage in itself can be held to refer to absence or to dissent in voting."[357] "And the whole multitude of them arose, and led him unto Pilate." The reader may ask: Why did the Jews lead Jesus away to Pilate? When they had condemned Him to death on the charge of blasphemy, why did they themselves not put Him to death? Why did they invoke Roman interference in the matter? Why did they not stone Jesus to death, as Hebrew law required in the case of culprits convicted of blasphemy? Stephen was stoned to death for blasphemy.[358] What was the difference between his case and that of Jesus? Why was Jesus crucified instead of being put to death by stoning? The stoning of Stephen as a blasphemer by the Jews has been explained as an irregular outbreak of fanatical priests, a sort of mob violence. It has also been contended that the case of Stephen was one of the rare instances in which Roman procurators permitted the Jews to execute the death sentence. In any event it was an exceptional proceeding. At the time of the crucifixion of Jesus and of the martyrdom of Stephen the Jews had lost the right of enforcing the death penalty. Judea was a subject province of the Roman empire. The Jews were permitted by the Romans to try capital cases. If an acquittal was the result, the Romans did not interfere. If a verdict of guilty was found, the Jews were compelled to lead the prisoner away to the Roman governor, who reviewed or retried the case as he saw fit. Accordingly, having condemned Him to death themselves, the Jews were compelled to lead Jesus away to the palace of Herod on the hill of Zion in which Pilate was stopping on the occasion of the Paschal Feast, to see what he had to say about the matter, whether he would reverse or affirm the sentence which they had pronounced. The Roman trial of Jesus will be treated in the second volume of this work. END OF VOL. I FOOTNOTES: [1] "Testimony of the Evangelists," pp. 7-11. [2] "Testimony of the Evangelists," pp. 25, 26. [3] I "Starkie on Evidence," pp. 480-545. [4] John x. 30: "I and my Father are one." [5] Matt. ix. 9. [6] Col. iv. 14: "Luke, the beloved physician." [7] Matt. xxvi. 70-72. [8] Matt. xxvi. 46-50. [9] Matt. xxvi. 56. [10] Matt. xiv. 28-31. [11] Mark x. 35-42; Matt. xx. 20-25. [12] Matt. xi. 2, 3. [13] Mark iii. 21. [14] Luke iv. 28, 29. [15] Mark xiv. 51, 52. [16] "Intro. Vie de Jesus." [17] Luke i. 2, 3. [18] "Die synoptischen Evangelien," pp. 412-14. [19] Marcus Dods, "The Bible, Its Origin and Nature," p. 184. [20] An opposite doctrine seems to be taught in Luke xii. 11, 12; xxiv. 48, 49. [21] "Evidences of Christianity," p. 319. [22] Matt. xiv. 12-20; Mark vi. 34-43; Luke ix. 12-17; John vi. 5-13. [23] Luke xxii. 64. [24] Luke xxii. 51. [25] Campbell's "Philosophy of Rhetoric," c. v. b. 1, Part III, p. 125. [26] "Intro. Vie de Jesus," p. 62. [27] D. L. Moody, "Sermon on the Resurrection of Jesus." [28] See also I "Starkie on Evidence," pp. 496-99. [29] "Ant.," XVIII. 3, I. [30] See authorities cited in "The Brief." [31] "De iis qui sero puniuntur," p. 554. [32] P. 1080, edit. 45. [33] P. 1247, edit. 24, Huds. [34] P. 1327, edit. 43. [35] "Productique omnes, virgisque cæsi, ac securi percussi," Lib. XI. c. 5. [36] Domit. Cap. X. "Patremfamilias--canibus objecit, cum hoc _titulo_, Impie locutus, parmularius." [37] Book LIV. [38] "Aur. Vict. Ces.," Cap. XLI. "Eo pius, ut etiam vetus veterrimumque supplicium, patibulum, et cruribus suffringendis, primus removerit." Also see Paley's "Evidences of Christianity," pp. 266-68. [39] Luke xxii. 44. [40] Tissot, "Traité des Nerfs," pp. 279, 280. [41] Joannes Schenck à Grafenberg, "Observ. Medic.," Lib. III. p. 458. [42] Voltaire, "Oeuvres complètes," vol. xviii. pp. 531, 532. [43] De Mezeray, "Histoire de France," vol. iii. p. 306. [44] John xix. 34. [45] John xix. 35. [46] John xviii. 6. [47] "Encyc. Brit.," vol. xv. p. 550. [48] Mendelsohn, "Criminal Jurisprudence of the Ancient Hebrews," p. 191. [49] Mendelsohn, p. 189, n. 1. [50] "Jewish Encyc.," vol. xii. p. 1. [51] Emanuel Deutsch, "The Talmud," p. 26. [52] Farrar, "Hist. of Interpretation." [53] Emanuel Deutsch, "The Talmud," p. 47. [54] "Encyc. Brit.," vol. xxiii. p. 35. [55] Emanuel Deutsch, "The Talmud," p. 58. [56] Emanuel Deutsch, "The Talmud," p. 27. [57] Emanuel Deutsch, "The Talmud," p. 27. [58] Deut. xvi. 18. [59] "Ant.," XIII. 10, 6. [60] Horace. [61] Emanuel Deutsch, "The Talmud," p. 12. [62] "Jewish Encyc.," vol. xii. p. 22. [63] Emanuel Deutsch, "Talmud," p. 12. [64] Maimon., "H. Sanh." xv. 10-13. [65] Mendelsohn, "Criminal Jurisprudence of the Ancient Hebrews," pp. 45-50. [66] Mendelsohn, "Criminal Jurisprudence of the Ancient Hebrews," pp. 45-50. [67] Mendelsohn, p. 43. [68] Mendelsohn, pp. 39, 40. [69] Mendelsohn, pp. 39, 40. [70] Maimonides ("Yad"), "Sanhedrin" xix. [71] Dr. Smith's "Hist. of Greece," p. 557. [72] "Jewish Encyc.," vol. ii. p. 257. [73] Ex. ii. 12-16. [74] "Sanh." 52b; Maim., "H. Sanh." xv. 4. [75] "H. Sanh." xv. 5. [76] Benny, "Crim. Code of the Jews," p. 90. [77] Mendelsohn, p. 159. [78] Chap. I. 10; X. i, 2. [79] Matt. xxvi. 59. [80] "Ant.," XIV. Chap. V. 4; "Wars of the Jews," I. VIII. 5; "Talmud," "Sanhedrin." [81] "Post Bibl. Hist.," vol. i. p. 106. [82] Matt. xvi. 21. [83] "Commentary on the Law," vol. ccclxvi. recto. [84] "Sanhedrin" 32. [85] Benny. [86] Jose b. Halafta, I. c. [87] R. Johanan, "Sanhedrin" 19a. [88] Benny. [89] Benny. [90] "Sanhedrin" 17a; "Menahoth" 65a. [91] Sifre, Num. 92 (ed. Friedmann, p. 25b). [92] Yalkut, "Exodus," Sec. 167. [93] Sotah 22b. [94] "Const. of the Sanhedrin," Chap. I. [95] Benny, "The Criminal Code of the Jews," p. 71. [96] Saalschütz, "Das Mosaische Recht," p. 58; Deut. xx. 5, 6. [97] Luke ii. 46-51. [98] Jer. xxxvii., xxxviii. [99] "Jesus of Nazara," vol. vi. p. 45. [100] "The Life and Words of Christ," vol. ii. p. 517. [101] "Archæol." 87. [102] Acts xxiv. 1, 2. [103] I Kings iii. 16-28. [104] Mendelsohn, "Criminal Jurisprudence of the Ancient Hebrews," pp. 102, 103. [105] Mendelsohn, pp. 96-98. [106] "Sanhedrin," Chap. I. fol. 19. [107] Mendelsohn, p. 97. [108] Mishna, "Sanhedrin," Chap. IV. 1. [109] Mendelsohn, p. 98. [110] "Sanhedrin," 8b, 41a, _et al._ [111] Mendelsohn, p. 101. [112] Schürer, "The Jewish People in the Time of Jesus Christ," 2d Div., 1. [113] "Sanhedrin," IV. 4. [114] "Sanhedrin," IV. 1. [115] "Sanhedrin," 17a, p. 176. [116] "Sanhedrin," Chap. I. 5. [117] Benny. [118] Benny. [119] Benny. [120] Mendelsohn, p. 140, n. 327. [121] Montaigne, "Essays," III. C. XIII. [122] "Un homme ne jugera jamais seul; cela n'appartient qu'a Dieu." "Ne sis judex unus; non est enim unicus judex, nisi unus."--Salvador, "Institutions de Moïse," L. IV. Chap. II. p. 357. [123] "But let not the testimony of women be admitted, on account of the levity and boldness of their sex."--Josephus, "Ant.," IV. 8, 15. [124] "Nor let servants be admitted to give testimony, on account of the ignobility of their souls."--"Ant.," IV. 8, 15. [125] "Ant.," IV. 8, 15. [126] Maimonides, I. C. XI. 6, based on "Sanh." 26b. [127] Mendelsohn, p. 118. [128] "Talmud," B. B. 43a. [129] Deut. xvii. 6. [130] Num. xxxv. 30. [131] "Hist. Nat.," Lib. VIII. Cap. XXII. [132] L. 20, Dig. De quæstionibus, xlviii. 18. [133] Blackstone, iv. 357. [134] Con. U. S., Art. III, Sec. 3. [135] "Les lois qui font périr un homme sur la déposition d'un seul témoin, sont fatales à la liberté. La raison en exige deux; parce qu'un témoin qui affirme, et un accusé qui nie, font un partage; et il faut un tiers pour le vider. Les Grecs and les Romains exigeaient une voix de plus pour condamner. Nos lois françaises en demandent deux. Les Grecs prétendaient que leur usage avait été établi par les dieux; mais c'est le notre."--"De L'Esprit Des Lois," L. XII. C. III. [136] Mishna, "Sanhedrin," C. V. 2. [137] Maimonides, "Sanhedrin," Chap. XX. [138] "Jewish Encyc.," vol. v. p. 277. [139] "Criminal Jurisprudence of the Ancient Hebrews," p. 29. [140] Philo Judæus, "De Decalogo," III. [141] Prov. xi. 10; Mishna, "Sanhedrin," IV. 5. [142] Apocrypha. [143] Benny. [144] Mishna, "Sanhedrin," Chap. V. 1. [145] Benny. [146] Deut. xix. 18-21. [147] Apocrypha. [148] Maimonides, Mishna, "Sanhedrin," Chap. IV. 2. [149] Münsterberg, "On the Witness Stand," "Untrue Confessions," pp. 137-171. [150] Rosadi. [151] Rabbi Wise, "Martyrdom of Jesus." [152] "Yad," Edut, xvii. 1. [153] "Jewish Encyc.," vol. v. p. 279. [154] Num. xxxv. 30. [155] Mishna, "Sanhedrin" V. 3, 4. [156] Matt. xxvi. 60. [157] Mark xiv. 56. [158] Lev. xxii. 28. [159] Deut. xvii. 5; "Sanhedrin" VII. 4. [160] Num. vi. 2-4. [161] "Jewish Encyc.," vol. vi. p. 260. [162] "Einleitung in der Gesetzgebung," p. 4. [163] "Jewish Encyc.," vol. vi. p. 260; Benny, "Criminal Code of the Jews," p. 97; Saalschütz, "Das Mosaische Recht," n. 560. [164] Mishna, treatise Makhoth. [165] Mishna, "Capita Patrum," I. 1. [166] Salvador, "Institutions de Moïse." [167] Mishna, "Sanhedrin," IV. 1. [168] "Jesus Before the Sanhedrin," p. 109. [169] "Talmud," Jerus., Sanh., C. I. fol. 19. [170] Mishna, "Tamid," C. III. [171] Geikie, vol. ii. p. 517. [172] Lyman Abbott, "Jesus of Nazareth," pp. 446, 447. [173] "Jewish Encyc.," vol. v. pp. 279, 280. [174] Benny. [175] Mendelsohn, p. 144. [176] Josephus, "Ant.," XIV. 9, 4. [177] Schürer, 2d div., vol. i. p. 175. [178] Schürer, 2d div., vol. i. p. 184. [179] "Life and Times of Jesus the Messiah," vol. ii. p. 556. [180] "Jesus of Nazara," vol. vi. p. 37. [181] "The Talmud," p. 32. [182] "Ant.," xv. 6, 2. [183] "History of the Jews," vol. ii. p. 163. [184] "Tribus, pseudo-propheta, sacerdos magnus, non nisi a septuaginta et unius judicum consessu judicantur."--"Mishna, De Synedriis," i. 5. [185] "Among the offenses of which it took cognizance were false claims to prophetic inspiration and blasphemy."--Andrews, "The Life of Our Lord," p. 510. [186] "Gesch. d. Judenth." vol. i. pp. 402-409. [187] "Life and Times of Jesus the Messiah," vol. ii. p. 553. [188] "Vie de Jesus," pp. 303, 304. [189] "Trial of Jesus Christ," p. 81. [190] Matt. xxvi. 60, 61. [191] Mark xiv. 57, 58. [192] Matt. xxvi. 64-66. [193] Mark xiv. 56. [194] John ii. 20. [195] John ii. 19. [196] John ii. 21. [197] "The Martyrdom of Jesus," pp. 75-77. [198] Deut. xiii. 1-5. [199] I Kings xxi. 10. [200] Isa. lii, 5; Ezek. xxxv. 12. [201] Luke xxii. 65; Acts xiii. 45; xviii. 6. [202] Revelation xiii. 1-6. [203] "Blackstone," vol. ii. pp. 75-84. [204] Greenidge, "Legal Procedure of Cicero's Time," pp. 427, 507, 518. [205] Deut. iv. 15, 16; Deut. xiii. [206] Gen. xli. 16. [207] Num. xx. 10-12. [208] Num. xx. 20-24. [209] Greenleaf, "Testimony of the Evangelists," p. 555. [210] Matt. v. 17. [211] John xi. 41. [212] Matt. ix. 20-22; Mark v. 25-34; Luke viii. 43-48. [213] Matt. viii. 24-26; Mark iv. 37-39; Luke viii. 23-25. [214] Matt. viii. 28-32; Mark v. 1-13; Luke viii. 26-33. [215] Matt. ix. 18-26; Mark v. 22-42; Luke viii. 41-55. [216] Luke vii. 12-15. [217] Matt. ix. 2, 3. [218] Luke v. 21. [219] John v. 18. [220] John x. 30-33. [221] John vi. 41. [222] John viii. 58. [223] "Testimony of the Evangelists," p. 562. [224] Edersheim, "Life and Times of Jesus the Messiah," vol. ii. p. 629. [225] John xiii.-xvii. [226] Matt. xi. 3. [227] Luke xxiv. 39-43; John xx. 24-28. [228] John xiii. 33. [229] John xviii. 9. [230] "Jesus Devant Caïphe et Pilate." [231] Acts iv. 3. [232] "Life and Times of Jesus the Messiah," vol. ii. p. 494. [233] See Cooley's "Blackstone," vol. ii. p. 330, n. 6; also Greenleaf, "On Evidence," vol. i. pp. 531-35 (10th edition). [234] "Vie de Jesus," p. 303. [235] John xviii. 13. [236] Matt. xxvi. 57. [237] Mark xiv. 53. [238] Luke xxii. 54. [239] John xviii. 19. [240] Luke iii. 2; Acts iv. 6. [241] "Life and Times of Jesus the Messiah," vol. i. p. 264. [242] "The Life of Our Lord," p. 142. [243] Luke iii. 2. [244] Plummer, St. Luke, in "International Critical Commentary," pp. 84, 515. [245] Josephus, "Ant.," XVIII. chap. ii. 2. [246] John xviii. 19-23. [247] Mark xiv. 58-61. [248] Matt. xxvi. 60-63. [249] Matt. xxvi. 63. [250] Mark xiv. 59. [251] Acts vi. 14. [252] "Jewish Encyc.," vol. i. p. 163. [253] Fiske, "Manual of Classical Literature," iii. Sec. 108; Smith, "Dictionary of Greek and Roman Antiquities," 89a. [254] See discussion of Point I. [255] Luke xxii. 66. [256] Luke xxii. 2. [257] Mark xiv. 2. [258] Mark xiv. i; Matt. xxvi. 4 (Consilium fecerunt ut Jesum dolo tenerent et occiderent). [259] Maimonides, "Sanhedrin" II. [260] John xviii. 28; Luke xxii. 1; Mark xiv. 1; Matt. xxvi. 2. [261] Mishna, "Capita Patrum," I, 1. [262] Mishna, "Treatise Makhoth." [263] See Part II, Chap. V. [264] Edmund Stapfer, "Life of Jesus." [265] Matt. xxvi. 57-66. [266] Mark xiv. 55-64. [267] Matt. xxvii. 1. [268] Mark xv. 1. [269] Luke xxii. 66-71. [270] "Martyrdom of Jesus," p. 74. [271] "Criminal Jurisprudence of the Ancient Hebrews," p. 133, n. 311. [272] See Part II, Chap. IV. [273] Mark xiv. 56-65. [274] Mark xiv. 62. [275] Matt. xii. 14-16; Mark iii. 7; ix. 29, 30. [276] Luke xiii. 31, 32. [277] Matt. xxii. 15. [278] John iv. 26. [279] Mark i. 34. [280] John x. 24. [281] Matt. xvi. 20. [282] Blackstone. [283] Mendelsohn, p. 143. [284] Mark xiv. 63, 64. [285] "Martyrdom of Jesus," p. 74. [286] "The Trial of Jesus," p. 200. [287] Matt. xxvi. 59; Mark xiv. 55. [288] Matt. xxvii. 1. [289] Mark xv. 1. [290] John iii. 1; vii. 50. [291] Luke xxiii. 51. [292] John vii. 51. [293] John vii. 50; xix. 39. [294] Luke xxiii. 51. [295] Mendelsohn, p. 98. [296] Deut. xvii. 7, 8. [297] "It is important to notice that every time the necessities of the case required the Sanhedrin returned to the Hall Gazith, or of Hewn Stones, as in the case of Jesus and others."--"Thosephthoth, or Additions to the Talmud," Bab., "Sanhedrin," C. IV. fol. 37, recto. [298] Edersheim, "Life and Times of Jesus the Messiah," vol. ii. p. 556, n. 1. [299] John xviii. 28. [300] MM. Lémann, "Jesus Before the Sanhedrin," p. 140. [301] Mark xiv. 63, 64. [302] Edersheim, "Life and Times of Jesus the Messiah," vol. ii. p. 561. [303] Rabbi Wise, "Martyrdom of Jesus," p. 74. [304] Benny, "Criminal Code of the Jews," p. 81. [305] Matt. xxvi. 65. [306] See Part II, Qualifications of Judges. [307] "Talmud, Pesachim, or the Passover," fol. 57, verso; see also "Jesus Before the Sanhedrin," pp. 54, 55. [308] Benny, "Criminal Code of the Jews," pp. 28-41. [309] Matt. xxi. 31. [310] Matt. xxiii. 14, 15. [311] "Life and Times of Jesus the Messiah," vol. i. pp. 93, 94. [312] Matt. xxiii. 27, 29-33. [313] "Vie de Jesus," p. 267. [314] John xi. 49, 50. [315] John xi. 53. [316] Luke xxii. 1-3. [317] Matt. xxvi. 3-5. [318] Benny, "Criminal Code of the Jews," p. 56. [319] Geikie, "The Life and Words of Christ," vol. ii. p. 517. [320] Deut. xix. 18-21. [321] Mark xiv. 55. [322] Mishna, Treatise "Makhoth." [323] "Afresh the mighty line of years unroll'd, The Virgin now, now Saturn's sway returns; Now the blest globe a heaven-sprung Child adorns, Whose genial power shall whelm earth's iron race, And plant once more the golden in its place."--Virgil, Eclogue IV. [324] Gen. xlix. 8-10. [325] "Sanhedrin," fol. 97, verso. [326] "Martyrdom of Jesus," p. 76. [327] John xi. 48-50. [328] I Sam. xv. 29. [329] Hosea xi. 9. [330] Mark vii. 9-13. [331] "Jewish Encyc.," vol. i. p. 583. [332] Hodge, "Systematic Theology," vol. i. p. 485. [333] Steenstra, "The Being of God as Unity and Trinity," pp. 192, 193. [334] John ii. 15. [335] John vi. 30. [336] John x. 24, 25. [337] Matt. xi. 4, 5. [338] I Kings xvii. 17-22. [339] John xi. 41. [340] Matt. ix. 18-26; Mark v. 22-42; Luke viii. 41-55. [341] Luke vii. 12-15. [342] John iii. 2. [343] See Friedlieb, Archæol., 87; Dupin, 75; Keim, vol. iii. 327. [344] Bab. Sanh. f. 63, 1: "Cum synedrium quemquam moti adjudicavit, ne quidquam degustent illi isto die." [345] Andrews, "The Life of Our Lord," p. 522. [346] "The Life of Our Lord," pp. 523, 524. [347] Luke xxii. 66-71. [348] See Part II, Chap. V.; also Benny, "Crim. Code of the Jews," pp. 81-83. [349] Keim, "Jesus of Nazara," vol. vi. pp. 63, 64. [350] John xviii. 28. [351] "Thou, Reuben, art guilty! Thou, Simon, art acquitted, art not guilty!" were stereotyped forms of verdicts under Hebrew criminal procedure. Sanh. in Friedl., p. 89. [352] Keim, "Jesus of Nazara," vol. vi. p. 74. [353] John iii. 1; vii. 50. [354] Luke xxiii. 50, 51. [355] Matt. xxvi. 59; Mark xiv. 55; Matt. xxvii. 1; Mark xv. 1. [356] Mark xiv. 63, 64; Luke xxii. 70, 71. [357] Keim, "Jesus of Nazara," vol. vi. p. 74, n. 2. [358] Acts vi. 11; vii. 59. INDEX A Abarbanel, Isaac, on the Sanhedrin, I, 106 Ab-beth-din, vice-president of the Sanhedrin, I, 112 Abbott, Lyman, on the scribes of the Sanhedrin, I, 158 Acts of Pilate, the Apocryphal, modern criticism of, II, 327 discovery of, II, 327 Lardner on the authenticity of, II, 328 _seq._ Tischendorf on the authenticity of, II, 345 _seq._ antiquity of, II, 351 text of, II, 351 _seq._ Æbutius, Publius, part of, in the exposure of Bacchanalian orgies, II, 271 _seq._ Ædile, Roman, judicial powers of, II, 36 Æsculapius, Græco-Roman divinity, II, 198 Akiba, Jewish rabbi, Mishna systematized by, I, 79 Albanus, Roman governor, his deposition of Albanus, II, 296 Alcmene, myth of Zeus and, II, 265 Alexander, Jewish Alabarch, biographical note on, II, 299 Alexander III, pope, genuineness of "true cross" attested by bull of, II, 63 Alexandrian MS. of the Bible, I, 67 Ananias ben Nebedeus, Jewish priest, biographical note on, II, 299 family of, cursed in Talmud, II, 302 Ananos. See Annas Ananus, son of Annas, Jewish high priest, biographical note on, II, 296 Anathemas, Jewish, against the Christians, II, 307, 308 Anaxagoras, Greek philosopher, on the deification of natural forces, II, 225 his exposure of the divination of Lampon, II, 226 Annanias, author of "Acts of Pilate," II, 351 Annas (Ananos), Jewish high priest, examination of Christ before, I, 238-247 deposition of, by Gratus, I, 244; II, 20 Christ examined in house of, I, 256 biographical note on, II, 295 legendary examination of Joseph of Arimathea, II, 374, 376 Antecedent Warning, peculiar provision of Hebrew Criminal Law regarding, I, 147-152 Antistius, L., Roman tribune, impeachment of Julius Cæsar by, II, 46 Antoninus Pius, Roman emperor, persecution of Christians by, II, 78 Aphrodisia, rites of, II, 265 Aphrodite, Greek divinity, patroness of prostitutes, II, 265 Aquillius, Manlius, Roman governor, trial of, before the Comitia, II, 40 Antonius, Marcus, Roman advocate, defense of, of Manlius Aquillius, II, 40 Aristotle, Greek philosopher, on the licentiousness of Sparta, II, 241 Arnold, Matthew, on despair of Roman people, II, 286 Arnobius, Numidian writer, on the familiar treatment of Roman gods, II, 218 on the lewdness of the Roman drama, II, 267 Art, effect of, in corruption of Roman and Greek morals, II, 268 Aspasia, mistress of Pericles, II, 242 Athens, domestic licentiousness of, II, 240, 241 Athronges, Jewish peasant, revolt of, II, 110 Atticus, Numerius, Roman senator, attests ascent of Augustus to heaven, II, 234 Atys, myth of, represented on Greek and Roman stage, II, 267 Augurs, Roman priests, II, 204 spectators at licentious dramas, II, 267 Augury, modes of, II, 211 Augustus Cæsar, Roman emperor, reign and policy of, II, 25, 26 care of profligate daughter Julia, II, 83 belief of, in omens, II, 215 his chastisement of Neptune, II, 222 deification of, II, 233 Aurelius Antoninus, Marcus, Roman emperor and philosopher, persecution of Christianity by, II, 78 adoration of Serapis by, II, 217 on suicide, II, 232 B Bacchanalian orgies, Livy's account of, II, 270-283 Bacchus, Roman deity, licentious festivals of, II, 265 Barabbas (Bar Abbas) released by Pilate, II, 131, 138, 363 Baring-Gould, S., on the symbolism of the Cross, II, 66 Baths, Roman, splendor of, II, 247 Beheading of criminals under Hebrew Law, I, 91, 99 Benny, on the Talmud, I, 75 on internment in Jewish Cities of Refuge, I, 98, 99 Bernhardt, Sarah, insulted in Quebec, II, 182 Bernice (Berenice), Jewish queen, a suppliant before Florus, II, 100 Bible, the manuscripts of, I, 67 purity of text of, I, 69 anthropomorphism of, I, 336-338 influence of, II, 4, 5 "Birchath Hamminim" Jewish imprecation against Christians, II, 308 Blasphemy, discussion of charge against Christ of, I, 193-209 Hebrew definition of, I, 199-201 classification of, I, 203 Boethus, family of, cursed in Talmud, II, 301. See also Simon Bossuet, Jacques B., French divine, on the citizenship of Christ, II, 108 Brothels, Roman, dedication of, to Venus, II, 265 Burning of criminals under Hebrew Law, I, 92, 99 C Cæsar, Caius Julius, 10th legion cowed by, II, 169 superstition of, II, 205 disbelief of, in immortality, II, 229 deification of, II, 233 divorces of, II, 238 profligacy of, II, 238, 239 unnatural practices attributed to, II, 263 Caiaphas, Jewish high priest, accusation of, against Christ, before Sanhedrin, I, 190 erratic conduct of, at trial of Christ, I, 290 rôle of, in trial of Jesus before Pilate, II, 101 biographical note on, II, 295 legendary examination of Joseph of Arimathea by, II, 374, 376 Caligula, Roman emperor, deifies his sister Drusilla, II, 234 depravity of, II, 234 Cantharus, family of, cursed in Talmud, II, 301 Capital Crimes under Hebrew Criminal Law, classification and punishments of, I, 91-101 Carlyle, Thomas, on the life of Christ, II, 187 Cassius, Dion, on the labeling of Roman criminals, I, 57 Cato, Marcus Porcius, contempt of, for the haruspices, II, 228 suicide of, II, 232 divorces of, II, 237 contempt of, for Lucullus, II, 246 merciless treatment of slaves, II, 251 Catulus, Quintus, dream of, presaging accession of Augustus, II, 214 Chanania, Jewish scribe, biographical note on, II, 314 Chanania ben Chiskia, Jewish scribe, biographical note on, II, 309 Charles IX, king of France, bloody sweat of, I, 59, 60 Christianity, conflict of, with Roman paganism, I, 16; II, 76-79 Chrysostom, St. John, on the legendary desire of Tiberius to deify Christ, II, 344 Cicero, Marcus Tullius, dream of, presaging accession of Augustus, II, 215 on Roman superstition, II, 221 on Roman skepticism, II, 227 his divorce of his wife, II, 237 witticism of, upon Cæsar's gallantries, II, 239 Cities of Refuge, Jewish, internment in, I, 96-99 Claudia, granddaughter of Augustus, marriage of, to Pilate, II, 82 dream of, regarding Jesus, II, 133, 355 Claudius, Roman commander, throws sacred pullets into the sea, II, 222 Clement V, pope, and the Talmud, I, 88, 89 Coliseum, the, description of, II, 260 Comitia Centuriata, public criminal trials in, II, 37-43 miscarriage of justice in, II, 38-42 Commodus, Roman emperor, deification of, II, 234 Consul, Roman, judicial powers of, II, 36 Coke, Sir Edward, contrast between Pilate and, II, 170-172 Cornelius, son of Ceron, the elder, biographical note on, II, 321 Cross, Roman instrument of death, erroneous representations of, II, 56 forms of, II, 62 use of, by various races as religious symbol, II, 64-67 "Cross, the True," legends of, II, 62, 63 Crucifixion, Plutarch on, I, 56 history of, II, 54, 55 mode of, II, 55 pathology of, II, 58, 59 Roman citizens exempt from, II, 54 of Jesus, II, 365 Cybele, Roman deity, importation of, from Phrygia, II, 199 D Deification of Roman emperors, ceremony of, II, 234 Dembowski, Bishop, and the Talmud, I, 88 Demosthenes, on the women of Athens, II, 242 Dérembourg, Joseph, on the Jewish priestly families, II, 294 Deutsch, Emanuel, on the Talmud, I, 74, 80 on the existence of the Great Sanhedrin at the time of Christ, I, 179, 181 Diocletian, Roman emperor, deification of, II, 233 Divination, Roman modes of, II, 211 Divorce, among the Romans, II, 236-239 trivial pretexts for, II, 237, 238 Döllinger, on the Roman view of Christianity and high treason, II, 77 on divorce, and the profligacy of Roman matrons, II, 236 on the effect of art in corrupting Greek and Roman manners, II, 268 Domitian, Roman emperor, self-deification of, II, 235 Doras, Jewish elder, biographical note on, II, 321 Dorotheas, son of Nathanael, Jewish elder, biographical note on, II, 321 Drama, the, licentiousness of, among Greeks and Romans, II, 266 Dreams, interpretation of, among Romans and Greeks, II, 213, 214 Druidism, annihilation of, II, 73 Drusilla, deified by Caligula, II, 234 Dysmas, legendary name of one of the thieves crucified with Jesus, II, 364 E Edersheim, Alfred, on the existence of the Great Sanhedrin at the time of Christ, I, 177 Elders, Jewish chamber of. See Sanhedrin Eleazar ben Partah, Jewish scribe, biographical note on, II, 314 Eleazar, son of Annas, Jewish high priest, biographical note on, II, 295 Eleazar, son of Simon Boethus, Jewish high priest, biographical note on, II, 297 Eliezer, Jewish rabbi, Mishna amplified by, I, 79 Ellicott, Dr., on the character of Pilate, II, 91 Epicurus, Greek philosopher, II, 229 Epicureanism, degradation of, among Romans, II, 230 Epitaphs, irreligious Roman, II, 222, 285 Epulos, Roman priests, II, 204 Etruria, importation of haruspices from, II, 210 Eusebius, reference of, to the "Acts of Pilate," II, 329, 333, 344 Evhemere, on the Greek gods, II, 225 Evangelists, honesty of, I, 12 character of, I, 13, 14 motives of, I, 15 ability of, I, 18 candor of, I, 20-24 discrepancies of, I, 29-33 corroborative elements of narrative of, I, 34-39 impossibility of collusion among, I, 38 conformity of narrative of, with human experience, I, 39 coincidence of testimony of, with collateral circumstances, I, 52-67 narrative of, confirmed by profane historians, I, 56, 57 Evidence, rules of, under Hebrew Law, I, 144, 145 F False swearing under Hebrew Criminal Law, I, 93 Fathers, Church, writings of the, I, 68 Fecenia, Hispala, part of, in exposure of Bacchanalian orgies, II, 271 _seq._ Felix, Minucius, Christian father, controversy of, with pagans on adoration of the cross, II, 64 Flagellation, under Hebrew Criminal, I, 94 Flamens, Roman priests, II, 204 spectators at licentious dramas, II, 267 G Gallio, pro-consul of Achaia, attitude of, toward Jewish clamors, II, 107 Gamaliel, Jewish rabbi, biographical note on, II, 304 Ganymede, depraving influence of myth of rape of, II, 262 Gavazzi, Alessandro, sermons of, in Coliseum, II, 262 Geib, on the status of Judea, II, 16 on the courts of the Roman Provinces, II, 32 Geikie, Cunningham, on the non-existence of the Sanhedrin at the time of Christ, I, 181 on the character of the trial of Jesus before Sanhedrin, I, 184 Gemara, the Jerusalem and Babylonian recensions of, I, 81 relation of, to Mishna, I, 83. See also Talmud and Mishna Germanicus, Cæsar temples profaned on death of, II, 222 exposure of children born on day of death of, II, 254 Gestas, legendary name of one of thieves crucified with Jesus, II, 364 Golden House of Nero, II, 246 Gibbon, Edward, on the jurisdiction of the great Sanhedrin, I, 120 on the laws of the Twelve Tables, II, 53 on the extent of the Roman Empire, II, 196 Gladiatorial games, origin of, II, 256 gigantic scale of, in Rome, II, 256, 257 conduct of, II, 258 Gospels, the, admissibility of, as legal evidence, I, 5-12 Governors, Roman, powers of, II, 24, 27, 28, 29 forbidden to take wives to their provinces, II, 84, 85 Graetz, Heinrich, on the existence of the Sanhedrin at the time of Christ, I, 181 Greeks, superstition of, II, 223 philosophy of, II, 229 depraving effect on Romans of art, literature, and manners of, II, 240-244, 268, 284 Bacchanalian orgies introduced by, II, 270 invective of Juvenal against, II, 284 Greenidge, on the interpretation of native law by Roman proprætors, II, 31 Greenleaf, Simon, American jurist, on the admissibility of the Scriptures as legal evidence, I, 6-9 on the testimony of the Evangelists, I, 10, 11 on the legal justice of the conviction of Christ for blasphemy, I, 209 H Hacksab ben Tzitzith, Jewish elder, biographical note on, II, 320 "Hall of Hewn Stones," sessions of Sanhedrin in, I, 117 Haruspices, Roman, account of, II, 210 Helcias, Jewish treasurer, biographical note on, II, 300 Helena, Empress, legendary discovery of "true cross" by, II, 62 Hercules, Greek divinity, burning of, represented on Greek and Roman stage, II, 267 Herder, Johann, on the character of Christ, II, 187 Herod Antipas, character of, II, 120 his treatment of Jesus, II, 122-127 Herod I, the Great, last will of, II, 119, 120 arbitrary changes of, in high priesthood, II, 293 Hetairai, status of, in Athens, II, 242, 243 High priest, Jewish, vestments of, I, 158 abuses in appointment of, II, 293 Hillel, Jewish doctor, inspiration of, I, 84 Hillel, School of, and the Mishna, I, 79 dissensions of, with School of Shammai, II, 309 Homer, the bible of the Greeks, II, 264 Honorius IV, pope, and the Talmud, I, 87 Horatius, trial of, before the Comitia Centuriata, II, 40 I Ignatius, St., martyrdom of, in Coliseum, II, 261 Impalement, death by, II, 61 Infanticide, among Romans, II, 254 Inkerman, story of soldier killed at battle of, II, 191 Innes, on the trials of Jesus before the Sanhedrin, I, 185; II, 10 on the cowardice of Pilate, II, 138 Interpreters, not allowed in Jewish courts, I, 107 Imprisonment. See Law, Hebrew Criminal, I, 93 Ishmael, Jewish rabbi, and the Mishna, I, 79 Ismael ben Eliza, Jewish scribe, biographical note on, II, 309 Ismael ben Phabi, Jewish high priest, biographical note on, II, 298 family of, cursed in Talmud, II, 301 Isis, Egyptian deity, rites of, established in Rome, II, 217 Roman temples of, a resort of vice, II, 269 Issachar ben Keifar Barchi, Jewish priest, cursed in Talmud, II, 302 J James, brother of Jesus, condemnation of, by Ananus, II, 296 Janus, Roman god, invocations of, II, 207 Jehovah, appearances of, in human form, I, 343-349 Jerome, St., on the Jewish anathema against Christians, II, 308 Jesus, the Christ, human perfection of, I, 14; II, 186 scourging of, I, 56, 57 breaking of legs of, by soldiers, I, 57 bloody sweat of, I, 59, 60 physical cause of death of, I, 61, 62 watery issue of, I, 60-62 devotion of women to, I, 66 resurrection of, I, 211; II, 368 divinity of, I, 211, 212 celebrates the Paschal feast, I, 220-224 at Gethsemane, I, 224-226 arrest of, I, 225 private examination of, before high priest, I, 238-247 charged with sedition and blasphemy I, 250 annnounces his Messiahship before Sanhedrin, I, 273, 274 Messianic prophecies fulfilled in Him, I, 323-328, 341, 342 miracles of, I, 350-355 at morning session of Sanhedrin, I, 356-362 condemned to death by Sanhedrin, I, 365 His teachings treasonable under Roman law, II, 72 before Pilate, II, 96 _seq._ charged with high treason before Pilate, II, 106, 352 indictment of, before Pilate, II, 107-109 acquitted by Pilate, II, 116 sent by Pilate to Herod, II, 118 before Herod, II, 119 _seq._ mocked, and sent back to Pilate by Herod, II, 127 second appearance of, before Pilate, II, 129 _seq._ delivered to Jews by Pilate, II, 138 mocked by mob, II, 139 tributes of skeptics to, II, 187 Napoleon's tribute to, II, 189, 190 charged by Jews with illegitimacy, II, 356 crucifixion of, II, 365 See also trial of Jesus, Hebrew, and trial of Jesus, Roman Jesus ben Sie, Jewish high priest, biographical note on, II, 298 Jews, the political state of, at time of Jesus, II, 11-23 discussion of their responsibility for Christ's death, II, 174-180 prejudices against, II, 180-187 distinguished, II, 185, 186 Joazar, Jewish high priest, biographical note on, II, 296 Jochanan ben Zakai, Jewish scribe, biographical note on, II, 311 John, St., at the sepulcher, I, 37 at the crucifixion of Christ, I, 65 John, St., Gospel of, style of, I, 19 John, Jewish priest, biographical note on, II, 299 Jonathan, son of Annas, Jewish high priest, biographical note on, II, 295 Jonathan ben Uziel, Jewish scribe, biographical note on, II, 306 John, son of John, Jewish elder, biographical note on, II, 321 Joseph of Arimathea, presence of, at trials of Christ, I, 282-286, 364 biographical note on, II, 318 receives body of Jesus from Pilate, II, 366 apocryphal account of escape of, from Jews, II, 367, 373-376 Josephus, Flavius, on the character of Pilate, I, 21 on scourging I, 56 on the Pharisees, I, 87 on the existence of the great Sanhedrin at time of Christ, I, 176 on the loss, by Jews, of power of life and death, II, 19 on the rapacity of the high priests, II, 301 Jowett, Benjamin, upon the corruption of Rome, II, 240 Judah, the Holy, Jewish rabbi, and the composition of the Mishna, I, 79, 80 Judas, son of Hezekiah, Jewish rebel, put to death by Herod, II, 109 Judas Iscariot, his betrayal of Christ, I, 227-235 Julia, daughter of Augustus, profligacy of, II, 82 marriages of, II, 83 Julian, Roman emperor, his defiance of Mars, II, 222 Juno, Roman divinity, sacrifices to, II, 208 Jupiter, Roman deity, multitudinous forms of, II, 203 sacrifices to, II, 208 Justin Martyr, reference of, to "Acts of Pilate," II, 331, 346, 348 Juvenal, Satires of, on Roman social depravity, II, 240, 244, 248 K Keim, Theodor, on the existence of the Great Sanhedrin at the time of Christ, I, 178 on the character of Christ, II, 188, 189 Knight, R. P., on the symbolism of the Cross, II, 65 Koran, the, I, 77 L Lamartine, Alphonse, on the death of Christ, II, 3 Lampon, Greek diviner, exposed by Anaxagoras, II, 226 Lardner, on the authenticity of the "Acts of Pilate," II, 328 _seq._ Law, Hebrew Criminal, administration of, I, 153, 154 basis of, I, 73, 84, 85 burial of bodies after execution under, I, 101, 171 capital punishments under, I, 91-93, 99-101 circumstantial evidence under, I, 144 Cities of Refuge under, I, 96 courts and judges, I, 102-126 execution under, I, 170, 171 false swearing under, I, 93 flagellation under, I, 94 imprisonment under, I, 93 peculiarities of, I, 125, 132, 147, 167, 168 slavery under, I, 95 tenderness of, for human life, I, 154, 155, 310 testimony under, I, 144-147 witnesses under, I, 127-144 written and documentary evidence irrelevant, I, 133, 145 Laws, Roman, lex Appuleia, II, 69 Cornelia, II, 69 Julia Majestatis, II, 69, 80 Memmia, II, 46 Porcia, II, 54 Remmia, II, 49 Talionis, II, 53 Valeria, II, 37, 54 Varia, II, 69 Lazarus, raising of, from the dead, I, 352 Lectisternia, Roman banquets to the gods, slaves released at, II, 130 indecencies of, II, 218 Lémann, extract from work of, on Sanhedrin, II, 291 Lepidus, Marcus, Roman patrician, magnificence of, II, 246 Livy, on scourging, I, 57 account of Bacchanalian orgies, II, 270-283 Longinus, legendary name of soldier who pierced Christ, II, 379 Lucullus, Roman patrician, luxury of, II, 244 Luke, St., occupation of, I, 19 Luke, St., Gospel of, style of, I, 19 Lupercals, Roman priests, II, 204 Luxury of the Romans, II, 244 Lycurgus, code of, II, 241 M Macarius, identification of "true cross" by, II, 63 Macaulay, Lord, speech of, on Jewish disabilities, II, 184 Mahomet, character of, I, 14 Malchus, ear of, cut off by Peter, I, 36, 226 Magath, Julius, extract from work of, II, 291 Maimonides, on Hebrew Capital Crimes, I, 91 on the prohibition of nocturnal trials, I, 255, 256 Manlius, Marcus, trial of, before the Comitia Centuriata, II, 40 Marius, Caius, assassin cowed by, I, 62 Mark, St., Jesus arrested at home of, I, 220 Marriage, among the Romans, II, 236 among the Greeks, II, 240-243 Marcius, Quintus, Roman consul, motion of, on the suppression of the Bacchanalian orgies, II, 282 Mars, Roman deity, II, 208 Messiah, the, prophecies regarding, and their fulfillment in Jesus, I, 322-328 varying expectations of Jews regarding, I, 319-322; II, 110 conception of Pharisees of, II, 324 conception of Sadducees of, II, 325 Matthew, St., occupation of, I, 19 Matthias, son of Annas, Jewish high priest, biographical note on, II, 296 Mendelssohn, on the Talmud, I, 75 Messalina, Roman empress, lewdness of, II, 244 Messalinus, Cotta, prosecuted for treason, II, 70 Metrodorus on the Greek gods, II, 226 Mezeray, de, on the bloody sweat of Charles IX, I, 60 Minerva, Roman deity, II, 208 Miracles, probability of, I, 40-51 Spinoza on, I, 40-43 Renan on, I, 44 of Christ, I, 351-354 Mishna, the, E. Deutsch on, I, 80 subdivisions of, I, 80 relation of Talmud to, I, 83 traditional view of, I, 84 on capital and pecuniary cases, I, 155, 156. See also Gemara and Talmud. Mommsen, Theodor, on the jurisdiction of native courts of Roman subject peoples, II, 15 on Roman marital looseness, II, 243 on Roman extravagance, II, 247 Montefiore, Sir Moses, anecdote of, II, 180 Mosaic Code, the, a basis of Hebrew Criminal Law, I, 73, 84, 85 Müller, Johannes, explodes legend of Pilate and Lake Lucerne, II, 95 N Nachum Halbalar, Jewish scribe, biographical note on, II, 314 Nævius, Marcus, accusation of Scipio Africanus by, II, 41 Napoleon I, fickleness of populace toward, I, 63, 64 tribute of, to Jesus, II, 189 religious faith of, II, 190, 191 Nasi, prince of the Sanhedrin, I, 112 Nathan, Jewish rabbi, note on, II, 315, note Neptune, Roman deity, II, 208 Nero, Roman emperor, deification of, II, 234 Golden House of, II, 246 Ney, Michel, French marshal, compared with St. Peter, I, 64 Nicodemus, Jewish elder, presence of, at trial of Christ, I, 282-286 defense of Christ before Sanhedrin, I, 305 presence and conduct of, at second trial of Jesus by Sanhedrin, I, 364 biographical note on, II, 319 apocryphal account of pleading of, for Jesus before Pilate, II, 360 Gospel of. See "Acts of Pilate" Nordau, Max, on Jewish pride in Jesus, II, 188 O Oaths, not administered to witnesses, under Jewish law, I, 134 Octavian. See Augustus Omens, belief of Romans in, II, 215 Onkelos, Jewish scribe, biographical note on, II, 305 Oracle, Delphic, consulted by Romans, II, 210 Osiris, Egyptian deity, the cross a symbol of, II, 66 Ovid, Roman poet, on unnatural practices in temples, II, 269 P Paganism, Græco-Roman, conflict of, with Christianity, I, 16; II, 76-79 Hellenization of Roman religion, II, 199 importation of foreign gods, II, 200 origin and multiplicity of Roman gods, II, 198-204 Roman priesthood, II, 204, 205 Roman forms of worship, II, 205-209 perplexity of worshipers regarding deities, II, 207 prayer, II, 207, 208-210 augury and divination, II, 210-215 omens, II, 215, 216 decay of Roman faith, II, 217-220 Roman skepticism, II, 220-229 sacrilege among Romans, II, 221 disbelief of Romans in immortality, II, 228, 229 Epicureanism among the Romans, II, 229-231 stoicism, II, 231-233 deification of Roman emperors, II, 233-235 base deities of Romans, II, 265 effect of religion in Greek and Roman social corruption, II, 269 Palace of Herod, description of, II, 96, 97 Paley, William, on the discrepancies of the Gospels, I, 32, 33 Pan, Græco-Roman divinity, feasts of, II, 265 Paul, St., on the depravity of Rome, II, 284 delivery of, to Felix, II, 299 Pericles, Greek tyrant, and the divination of Lampon, II, 226 Pentateuch, the, a basis of Hebrew jurisprudence, I, 73 Permanent Tribunals (quæstiones perpetuæ), mode of trials before, at Rome, II, 43-52 Peter, St., at the sepulcher, I, 37 compared with Marshal Ney, I, 64 and Malchus, I, 36, 226 Pharisees, and the Talmud, I, 87 attitude of, toward the law, I, 338 dominant in priestly order, II, 302 their conception of the Messiah, II, 324 characteristics of, II, 324 Philip, St., and the feeding of the five thousand, I, 35 Phillips, Wendell, on Hindu swordsmanship, I, 48 Philo, Jewish philosopher, on the character of Pilate, I, 21; II, 89-91 Phryne, mistress of Praxiteles anecdote of, II, 242 Pilate, Pontius, powers of, as procurator of Judea, II, 27-31 name and origin of, II, 81, 82 marriage of, II, 82 becomes procurator of Judea, II, 84 provokes the Jews, II, 85 appropriates funds from Corban, II, 86 hangs shields in Herod's palace, II, 88 slays Galileans, II, 88 character of, I, 21; II, 88 canonization of, II, 89 ordered to Rome by Vitellius, II, 92 legends regarding death of, II, 92-94 interrogation of Jesus, II, 112-115 talents of, II, 115 his opinion of Jesus, II, 115 acquits Jesus, II, 116 sends Jesus to Herod, II, 117 reconciled with Herod, II, 128 offers to release Barabbas, II, 130 warned by wife's dream of Jesus, II, 133, 355 washes his hands of Christ's death, II, 137, 364 releases Barabbas, II, 138, 363 summary of his conduct of Christ's trial, II, 168 conduct of, compared with Cæsar, II, 169; with Sir Edward Coke, II, 170-172 Pindar, Greek poet, denunciation of, of vulgar superstitions, II, 224 Plato, Greek philosopher, unnatural love of, II, 263 reprobation of Homeric myths, II, 264 Pliny, the Younger, correspondence of, with Trajan, II, 78 disbelief of, in immortality, II, 229 on slavery, II, 203 Plutarch, on crucifixion, I, 56 anecdotes of Lucullus, II, 244-246 Polybius, on Roman pederasty, II, 263 Pompeia divorced by Cæsar, II, 238 Pompey, Cneius, the Great, conquest of Palestine by, II, 11 defeated at Pharsalia, II, 25 divorce of his wife Mucia, II, 238 Pontiffs, Roman, II, 204 Poppæa, wife of Nero, deification of, II, 77 Postumius, Spurius, Roman consul, suppression of Bacchanalians by, II, 270-283 Prætor, Roman, judicial powers of, II, 36 Priesthood, Roman. See Roman religion Priests, Jewish Chamber of. See Sanhedrin Procurator, Roman, jurisdiction of, II, 27, 28 Provinces, Roman, classification of, by Augustus, II, 27 Q Quetzalcoatle, crucified Savior, worshiped by Mexicans, II, 66 R Rabbi, origin of Jewish title of, II, 315 Rabbis, Jewish, arrogance of, II, 316 Raphall, Morris, on the origin of the Sanhedrin, I, 104 Rawlinson, George, on the political state of Judea at the time of Christ, II, 11 Religions, policy of Romans toward foreign, and of conquered peoples, II, 72-74 Renan, Ernest, on miracles, I, 44-47 on the "judicial ambush" of blasphemers, I, 235 on the character of Pilate, II, 90 on the character of Christ, II, 187, 188 Richard III, King of England, contest of, with Saladin, I, 48 Richter on the pathology of crucifixion, II, 58, 59 Rosadi, on the confession of the accused under Hebrew law, I, 143 on the hatred of Pilate toward the Jews, II, 98 on the order of criminal trials in Roman provinces, II, 32 Rousseau, Jean Jacques, on the death of Christ, II, 187 Romans, laws of, the basis of modern jurisprudence, II, 5 policy of, toward subject peoples, II, 13-15 responsibility of, for Christ's death, II, 174-176 religion of. See Paganism Ruga, Carvilius, first Roman to procure a divorce, II, 236 S Sacrifice, human, among the Romans, II, 209 Sadducees, attitude of, toward the law, I, 338 attitude of, toward anthropomorphism of Pentateuch, I, 338 dominant in the Sanhedrin, I, 339 disbelief of, in immortality, II, 322 wealth and rank of, II, 322 Saladin, Saracen Sultan, contest of, with Richard III, I, 48 Salians, Roman priests, II, 204 Sallust, Roman historian, on the conspiracy of Cataline, II, 229 Salvador, Joseph, on the existence of the Great Sanhedrin at the time of Christ, I, 177 Samuel, Hakaton, Jewish scribe, biographical note on, II, 307 Sanctuary, right of, among ancient peoples, I, 96 Sanhedrin, the Great, origin of, I, 103 history of, I, 104 organization of, I, 105 chamber of scribes, I, 105; II, 303 chamber of elders, I, 105; II, 318 chamber of priests, I, 105; II, 292 qualifications of members of, I, 106 disqualifications of judges of, I, 109 officers of, I, 112 compensation of officers of, I, 115 sessions of, I, 116 recruitment of personnel of, I, 117 quorum of, I, 119 jurisdiction of, I, 119 appeals to, from minor Sanhedrins, I, 120 morning sacrifice of, I, 157 assembling of judges of, I, 158 scribes of, I, 158, 159 examination of witnesses by, I, 159-162 debates and balloting of judges of, I, 162 procedure of, in cases of condemnation of accused, I, 165-167 method of counting votes, I, 167, 168 death march of, I, 169, 170 question of existence of, at time of Christ, I, 175-181 jurisdiction of, in capital cases at the time of Christ, I, 181-183 discussion of trial of Christ before, I, 183-186 procedure of, in trial of Christ before, I, 186 illegality of proceedings of, against Christ, I, 255-259, 260-262, 263-266, 267-270, 287-294 illegality of sentence of, against Christ, I, 271-278, 279-286 disqualifications of members of, who condemned Christ, I, 296-308 morning session of, at trial of Christ, I, 356-364 three sessions of, to discuss Christ, I, 305, 306 authority of, after Roman conquest, II, 12, 16, 21 deprived by Romans of power of capital punishment, II, 19, 20 biographical sketches of members of, who tried Jesus, II, 291-326 Sanhedrins, minor, appeals from, to Great Sanhedrin, I, 120 establishment of, I, 121 jurisdiction of, I, 121 superior rank of those of Jerusalem, I, 123, 124 Saul, Abba, Jewish scribe, biographical note on, II, 313 Savonarola, Girolamo, Florentine reformer, burning of, I, 63 Scaurus, Manercus, prosecuted for treason, II, 70 Sceva, Jewish priest, biographical note on, II, 300 Schenck, account of, of the bloody sweat of a nun, I, 59 Schürer, on the existence of the Sanhedrin at the time of Christ, I, 176 on the jurisdiction of the Sanhedrin, II, 18 on the administration of civil law by Sanhedrin, II, 30 Scipio Africanus, trial of, before Comitia Centuriata, II, 41 Scott, Sir Walter, on the contest between Richard III and Saladin, I, 47, 48 Scourging, of Jesus, I, 56 mode of, among Romans, II, 55 Scribes, Jewish, Edersheim on, I, 302 Scribes, Jewish Chamber of. See Sanhedrin Segnensis, Henricus, anecdote of, illustrative of mediæval ignorance regarding Talmud, II, 74 Semiramis, Assyrian queen, origin of crucifixion imputed to, II, 54 Seneca, anecdote from, regarding political informers, II, 71 on the patriotic observance of the national religion, II, 226 on suicide, II, 232 on slavery, II, 252 on Roman myths, II, 265 Septuagint, version of the Bible, paraphrasing of anthropomorphic passages in, I, 237 Sepulture, of crucified criminals forbidden, II, 58 Serapis, Egyptian deity, images of thrown down, II, 73 Marcus Aurelius an adorer of, II, 217 Servilia, mistress of Julius Cæsar, II, 239 Shammai, School of, and the Mishna, I, 79 dissensions of, with School of Hillel, II, 309 Shevuah ben Kalba, Jewish elder, biographical note on, II, 319 Shoterim of the Sanhedrin, I, 113 Sibylline Books, II, 199, 204 Sibyl, Erythræan, Virgil inspired by, II, 287 Simon, Jewish rebel, revolt of, II, 110 Simon, Jewish elder, biographical note on, II, 320 Simon Boethus, made high priest by Herod I, II, 296 Simon ben Camithus, Jewish high priest, biographical note on, II, 298 Simon Cantharus, Jewish high priest, biographical note on, II, 297 Simon, son of Gamaliel, Jewish elder, biographical note on, II, 305 Simon Hamizpah, Jewish scribe, biographical note on, II, 314 Sinaitic MS. of the Bible, I, 67 Slavery, under Hebrew law, I, 95 account of, among Romans, II, 250, 251 Social life, Græco-Roman, marriage and divorce, II, 236-240 prostitution, II, 242-244 luxury and extravagance, II, 244-249 poverty of Roman masses, II, 249 slavery, II, 249-253 infanticide, II, 254 gladiatorial games, II, 255-262 depravity of, traceable to corrupt myths, II, 262-270 practice of Bacchanalian rites, II, 270-283 hopeless state of, at time of Christ, II, 284-287 Socrates, Greek philosopher, resemblance of charges against, to those against Jesus, II, 181 counsel of, to Hetairai, II, 243 Sodomy, prevalence of, among Greeks and Romans, II, 262-264 practiced in Roman temples, II, 269 Solomon ben Joseph, Jewish rabbi, on the Talmud, I, 90 Sonnenthal, Adolf von, Jewish actor, refused freedom of Vienna, II, 182 Sparta, licentiousness of, II, 241 Spartacus, Roman gladiator, revolt of, II, 259, 260 Spartans, marital looseness of, II, 241 Spinoza, Jewish philosopher, on miracles, I, 40-44 Standards, apocryphal miracle of, at trial of Christ, II, 354 _seq._ Starkie on the credibility of testimony, I, 12 Stephen, St., stoning of, I, 365 Stephen, Sir James F. J., on the Roman treatment of Christianity, II, 76 on Pilate's trial of Jesus, II, 159-164 Stoicism, among the Romans, II, 231 resemblance of, to Christian precepts, II, 331 Stoning of criminals under Hebrew law, I, 92, 99 Strangling of criminals under Hebrew law, I, 91, 99 Strauss, David, on the behavior of Jesus before Herod, II, 126 on the character of Christ, II, 187 Stroud on the physical cause of death of Christ, I, 61, 62 Suetonius, Roman historian, on the labeling of criminals before execution, I, 57 on divination, II, 213 narrative of, of dreams presaging reign of Augustus, II, 214 account of, of belief of Augustus in omens, II, 215 Suicide, attitude of Stoics toward, II, 232 Suspension, death by, II, 61, 62 Sweat, bloody, historical instances of, I, 59, 60 T Tacitus, Roman historian, on slavery, II, 253 Talmud, the, definition of, I, 74 recensions of, I, 81 contents of, I, 82 relation of Mishna to, I, 83, to Gemara, I, 83; to Pentateuch, I, 83; to Mosaic Code, I, 84, 85 efforts of Christians to extirpate, I, 87, 88 message and mission of, I, 89 See also Gemara and Mishna Telemachus, St., death of, in arena, II, 261 Temples, a resort of immorality in Rome, II, 269 Tertullian, Latin father, on the character of Pilate, II, 89 on the resort of vice to temple precincts, II, 269 reference of, to the "Acts of Pilate," II, 329, 333 _seq._, 347, 348 Tertullus, his prosecution of Paul, II, 299 Testimony, under Hebrew Criminal Law, of each witness required to cover entire case, I, 132 vain, I, 145 standing, I, 146 adequate, I, 147 of accomplices, I, 228-230, 235, 236 Theodota, the courtesan, counseled by Socrates, II, 243 Theophilus, son of Annas, Jewish high priest, biographical note on, II, 296 Theresa, Maria, Austrian empress, codex of, II, 54 Three, Jewish Courts of, jurisdiction of, I, 124 Tiberius Cæsar, Roman emperor, sway of, II, 27 character of, II, 70 prosecutions of, for treason, II, 70, 71 marriage of, to Julia, II, 83 legendary desire of, to deify Christ, II, 329, 330 _seq._ Tischendorf, Constantine, on the authenticity of the "Acts of Pilate," II, 345 _seq._ Tissot, account of, of the bloody sweat of a sailor, I, 59 Trajan, Roman emperor, correspondence of, with Pliny, II, 78 Trials, Roman criminal, right of appeal, II, 28 during the regal period, II, 35 Roman, mode of, in the Comitia Centuriata, II, 37-43 mode of, in the Permanent Tribunals, II, 43-52 prosecutor, rôle and selection of, II, 43, 44, 49 Trial of Jesus, Hebrew, nature of charge against Jesus before Sanhedrin, I, 187 procedure of, before Sanhedrin, I, 188 discussion of charge of blasphemy against Jesus, I, 193-209 illegality of arrest of Jesus, I, 219-237 illegality of private examination of Jesus before high priest, I, 238-247 illegality of indictment of Jesus, I, 248-254 illegality of nocturnal proceedings against Jesus, I, 255-259 illegality of the meeting of the Sanhedrin before morning sacrifice, I, 260-262 illegality of proceedings against Christ, because held on the eve of the Sabbath, and of a feast, I, 263-266 illegality of trial, because concluded in one day, I, 267-270 condemnation of Jesus founded on uncorroborated evidence, I, 271-278 Jesus illegally condemned by unanimous verdict, I, 279-286 condemnation of Jesus pronounced in place forbidden by law, I, 288-292 irregular balloting of judges of Jesus, I, 292-294 condemnation of Jesus illegal, because of unlawful conduct of high priest, I, 290, 291 disqualifications of judges of Jesus, I, 296-308 Jesus condemned without defense, I, 309 second trial of Jesus by Sanhedrin, I, 356-366 Trial of Jesus, Roman, discussion of Roman and Hebrew jurisdiction, II, 3-23 Roman law applicable to, II, 68-80 as conducted by Pilate, II, 96-118, 129-139 legal analysis of, II, 141-168 Tribune, Roman, judicial powers of, II, 36 Tryphon, son of Theudion, Jewish elder; biographical note on, II, 321 Twelve Tables, laws of the, II, 53, 208 U Ulpian, Roman jurist, his definition of treason, II, 69 V Vatican, MS. of the Bible, I, 67 Venus, Roman deity, sacrifices to, II, 208 impersonated by Phryne, II, 243 worshiped by harlots, II, 266 Veronica, St., legend of, II, 93 Vestals, Roman priestesses, guardians of sacred fire, II, 204 spectators at licentious dramas, II, 267 Vinicius, Lucius, Roman patrician, letter of Augustus to, II, 83 Virgil, poem of, on advent of heaven-born child, I, 321; II, 287 Virginia, legend of, II, 236 Vitellius, legate of Syria, spares Jewish prejudices, II, 85 orders Pilate to Rome, II, 92 Vitia, Roman matron, executed for treason, II, 71 Voltaire, François de, account of, of the bloody sweat of Charles IX, I, 59 on character of Christ, II, 187 Vulgate, version of the Bible, I, 68 W Witnesses, under Hebrew Criminal Law, competency and incompetency of, I, 127-129 number of, required to convict, I, 129 agreement of, I, 131 adjuration to, I, 134 examination of, I, 136, 138 false, I, 140 the accused as, I, 141 separation of, I, 137 Wise, Rabbi, on the non-existence of the Great Sanhedrin at time of Christ, I, 175, 179 on the "martyrdom of Jesus," I, 330 X Xenophanes, ridicule of, of Greek religion, II, 224 Z Zadok, Jewish scribe, biographical note on, II, 310 Zeno, Greek philosopher, originator of Stoicism, II, 229 Zeus, Greek divinity, character of, I, 14 myth of rape of Ganymede by, II, 262 Corrections The first line indicates the original, the second the correction: p. 24: in the life and minstry in the life and ministry p. 189: that he flattered that He flattered God could be worshiped in any other place as well as in his God could be worshiped in any other place as well as in His p. 206: that he was "the Christ, the Son of God" that He was "the Christ, the Son of God" Index: Dysmas, legendary name of one of thieves crucified with Jesus, II, 364 Dysmas, legendary name of one of the thieves crucified with Jesus, II, 364 Derembourg, Joseph, on the Jewish priestly families, II, 294 Dérembourg, Joseph, on the Jewish priestly families, II, 294 Lemann, extract from work of, on Sanhedrin, II, 291 Lémann, extract from work of, on Sanhedrin, II, 291 Scipio Africanus, trial of, before Comitia Centuriata Scipio Africanus, trial of, before Comitia Centuriata, II, 41 Footnote 135: sont fatales a la liberté. sont fatales à la liberté. 
40482	----	Transcriber's Note: Italics are indicated by _underscores_. Daily quotations from published prayers, which are italicised here and in the original, have been indented. Bolding is indicated by =equal signs=. Daily quotations from Scripture, which are bolded here and in the original, have also been indented. Small capitals have been rendered in upper case. Inconsistencies in spelling (e.g. "Savior" and "Saviour") and in hyphenation have been retained. In the two chemical formulae in Chapter 4 "^" is followed by a superscript and "_" by a subscript. Minor changes have been made to the format of biblical references; and corrections made to apparent punctuation errors elsewhere in the text. The Meaning of Faith HARRY EMERSON FOSDICK AUTHOR OF "THE MANHOOD OF THE MASTER," "THE MEANING OF PRAYER," "THE CHALLENGE OF THE PRESENT CRISIS," ETC. ASSOCIATION PRESS NEW YORK: 347 MADISON AVENUE 1922 COPYRIGHT, 1917, BY THE INTERNATIONAL COMMITTEE OF YOUNG MEN'S CHRISTIAN ASSOCIATIONS Printed in the United States of America The Bible Text used in this volume is taken from the American Standard Edition of the Revised Bible, copyright 1901, by Thomas Nelson & Sons, and is used by permission. TO MY MOTHER IN MEMORIAM "_'Tis human fortune's happiest height to be A spirit melodious, lucid, poised, and whole; Second in order of felicity To walk with such a soul._" PREFACE A book on faith has been for years my hope and intention. And now it comes to final form during the most terrific war men ever waged, when faith is sorely tried and deeply needed. Direct discussion of the war has been purposely avoided; the issues here presented are not confined to those which the war suggests; but many streams of thought within the book flow in channels that the war has worn. Since the conflict had to come, I am glad for this book's sake that it was not written until it had Europe's holocaust for a background. Against one misunderstanding the reader should be guarded. If anyone approaches these studies, expecting to find detailed and special views of Christian doctrine, he will be disappointed. The perplexities of mind and life and the affirmations of religious faith, with which these studies deal, lie far beneath sectarian doctrinal controversy. I have tried to make clear a foundation on which faith might build its thoughts of Christian truth. And while I have spoken freely of God and Christ and the Spirit, of the Cross and life eternal, I have not intended or endeavored a complete theology. I have had in mind that elemental matter of which Carlyle was thinking when he wrote: "The thing a man does practically lay to heart, and know for certain concerning his vital relations to the mysterious Universe, and his duty and destiny there, _that_ is in all cases the primary thing for him, and creatively determines all the rest. _That_ is his religion." As in "The Meaning of Prayer," the Scripture has been used for the basis and interpretation of the daily thought. The Bible is our supreme record of man's experience with faith; it recounts in terms of life faith's sources and results, its successes and failures, its servants and its foes. And because faith is not a _tour de force_ of intellect alone, but is an act of life, prayers have been used for the expression of aroused desire and resolution. My indebtedness to many helpers is very great. But to my friend and colleague, Professor George Albert Coe, my gratitude is so definitely due for his careful reading of the manuscript, that the book should not go out lacking an acknowledgment. H. E. F. December 15, 1917. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS Special acknowledgment is gladly made to the following: to E. P. Dutton & Company for permission to use prayers from "A Chain of Prayer Across the Ages" and from "The Temple," by W. E. Orchard, D.D.; to the Rev. Samuel McComb and the publishers for permission to quote from "A Book of Prayers," Copyright, 1912, Dodd, Mead & Company; to the American Unitarian Association for permission to draw upon "Prayers," by Theodore Parker; to the Pilgrim Press and the author for permission to use selections from "Prayers of the Social Awakening," by Dr. Rauschenbusch; to the Missionary Education Movement for permission to make quotations from "Thy Kingdom Come," by Ralph E. Diffendorfer; to Fleming H. Revell Co., for permission to make use of "A Book of Public Prayer," by Henry Ward Beecher; and to the publishers of James Martineau's "Prayers in the Congregation and in College," Longmans, Green & Co. None of the above material should be reprinted without securing permission. CONTENTS CHAPTER PAGE PREFACE vii I. FAITH AND LIFE'S ADVENTURE 1 II. FAITH A ROAD TO TRUTH 26 III. FAITH IN THE PERSONAL GOD 51 IV. BELIEF AND TRUST 77 V. FAITH'S INTELLECTUAL DIFFICULTIES 103 VI. FAITH'S GREATEST OBSTACLE 129 VII. FAITH AND SCIENCE 158 VIII. FAITH AND MOODS 184 IX. FAITH IN THE EARNEST GOD 210 X. FAITH IN CHRIST THE SAVIOR: FORGIVENESS 237 XI. FAITH IN CHRIST THE SAVIOR: POWER 263 XII. THE FELLOWSHIP OF FAITH 289 SCRIPTURE PASSAGES USED IN THE DAILY READINGS 316 SOURCES OF PRAYERS USED IN THE DAILY READINGS 317 PUBLISHERS' NOTE The complex subject of Faith has required an extended treatment, which has made the present volume much longer than the author's previous works. Every item of expense connected with publishing has greatly increased even within the past few months, and, to the regret, alike of publisher and author, it has been found necessary to charge more for this volume than for "The Meaning of Prayer" and "The Manhood of the Master." CHAPTER I Faith and Life's Adventure DAILY READINGS Discussion about faith generally starts with faith's _reasonableness_; let us begin with faith's _inevitableness_. If it were possible somehow to live without faith, the whole subject might be treated merely as an affair of curious interest. But if faith is an unescapable necessity in every human life, then we must come to terms with it, understand it, and use it as intelligently as we can. _There are certain basic elements in man which make it impossible to live without faith._ Let us consider these, as they are suggested in the Epistle to the Hebrews, which, better than any other book in the Bible, presents faith as an unavoidable human attitude. First Week, First Day =Now faith is assurance of things hoped for, a conviction of things not seen.--Heb. 11:1.= As Moffatt translates: "Now faith means we are confident of what we hope for, convinced of what we do not see." When faith is described in such general terms, its necessity in human life is evident. Man cannot live without faith, because he deals not only with a past which he may know and with a present which he can see, but with a _future in whose possibilities he must believe_. A man can no more avoid looking ahead when he lives his life than he can when he sails his boat, and in one case as in the other, his direction is determined by his thought about what lies before him, his "assurance of things hoped for." Now, this future into which continually we press our way can never be a matter of demonstrable knowledge. We know only when we arrive, but meanwhile we believe; and our knowledge of what is and has been is not more necessary to our quest than our faith concerning what is yet to come. As Tennyson sings of faith in "The Ancient Sage": "She sees the Best that glimmers thro' the Worst, She feels the sun is hid but for a night, She spies the summer thro' the winter bud, She tastes the fruit before the blossom falls, She hears the lark within the songless egg, She finds the fountain where they wail'd 'Mirage'!" However much a man may plan, therefore, to live without faith, he cannot do it. When one strips himself of all convictions about the future he stops living altogether, and active, eager, vigorous manhood is always proportionate to the scope and power of reasonable faith. The great spirits of the race have had the aspiring, progressive quality which the Scripture celebrates: =These all died in faith, not having received the promises, but having seen them and greeted them from afar, and having confessed that they were strangers and pilgrims on the earth. For they that say such things make it manifest that they are seeking after a country of their own. And if indeed they had been mindful of that country from which they went out, they would have had opportunity to return. But now they desire a better country, that is, a heavenly: wherefore God is not ashamed of them, to be called their God; for he hath prepared for them a city.--Heb. 11:13-16.= _Almighty God, let Thy Spirit breathe upon us to quicken in us all humility, all holy desire, all living faith in Thee. When we meditate on the Eternal, we dare not think any manner of similitude; yet Thou art most real to us in the worship of the heart. When in the strife against sin we receive grace to help us in our time of need, then art Thou the Eternal Rock of our salvation. When amid our perplexities and searchings, the way of duty is made clear, then art Thou our Everlasting Light. When amid the storms of life we find peace and rest through submission, then art Thou the assured Refuge of our souls. So do Thou manifest Thyself unto us, O God!_ _Our Heavenly Father, we give Thee humble and hearty thanks for all the sacred traditions which have come down to us from the past--for the glorious memories of ancient days, concerning that Divine light in which men have been conscious of Thy presence and assured of Thy grace. But we would not content ourselves with memories. O Thou who art not the God of the dead, but the God of the living, manifest Thyself unto us in a present communion. Reveal Thyself unto us in the tokens of this passing time. Give us for ourselves to feel the authority of Thy law: give us for ourselves to realize the exceeding sinfulness of sin: give us for ourselves to understand the way of salvation through sacrifice. Teach us, by the Spirit of Christ, the sacredness of common duties, the holiness of the ties that bind us to our kind, the divinity of the still small voice within that doth ever urge us in the way of righteousness. So shall our hearts be renewed by faith; so shall we ever live in God. Amen._--John Hunter. First Week, Second Day =By faith Abraham, when he was called, obeyed to go out unto a place which he was to receive for an inheritance; and he went out, not knowing whither he went. By faith he became a sojourner in the land of promise, as in a land not his own, dwelling in tents, with Isaac and Jacob, the heirs with him of the same promise: for he looked for the city which hath the foundations, whose builder and maker is God.--Heb. 11:8-10.= =By faith Moses, when he was grown up, refused to be called the son of Pharaoh's daughter; choosing rather to share ill treatment with the people of God, than to enjoy the pleasures of sin for a season; accounting the reproach of Christ greater riches than the treasures of Egypt: for he looked unto the recompense of reward. By faith he forsook Egypt, not fearing the wrath of the king: for he endured, as seeing him who is invisible.--Heb. 11:24-27.= Man cannot live without faith because his relationship with the future is an affair not alone of thought but also of action; _life is a continuous adventure into the unknown_. Abraham and Moses pushing out into experiences whose issue they could not foresee are typical of all great lives that have adventured for God. "By faith" is the first word necessary in every life like Luther's and Wesley's and Carey's. By faith John Bright, when his reforms were hard bestead, said: "If we can't win as fast as we wish, we know that our opponents can't in the long run win at all." By faith Gladstone, when the Liberal cause was defeated, rose undaunted in Parliament, and said, "I appeal to time!" and by faith every one of us must undertake each plain day's work, if we are to do it well. Robert Louis Stevenson said that life is "an affair of cavalry," "a thing to be dashingly used and cheerfully hazarded." But so to deal with life demands faith. The more one sees what venturesome risks he takes every day, what labor and sacrifice he invests in hope of a worthy outcome, with what great causes he falls in love until at his best he is willing for their sakes to hazard fortune and happiness and life itself, the more he sees that the soul of robust and serviceable character is faith. _O God, who hast encompassed us with so much that is dark and perplexing, and yet hast set within us light enough to walk by; enable us to trust what Thou hast given as sufficient for us, and steadfastly refuse to follow aught else; lest the light that is in us become as darkness and we wander from the way. May we be loyal to all the truth we know, and seek to discharge those duties which lay their commission on our conscience; so that we may come at length to perfect light in Thee, and find our wills in harmony with Thine._ _Since Thou hast planted our feet in a world so full of chance and change that we know not what a day may bring forth, and hast curtained every day with night and rounded our little lives with sleep; grant that we may use with diligence our appointed span of time, working while it is called today, since the night cometh when no man can work; having our loins girt and our lamps alight, lest the cry at midnight find us sleeping and the door fast shut._ _Since we are so feeble, faint, and foolish, leave us not to our own devices, not even when we pray Thee to; nor suffer us for any care to Thee or for any pain to us to walk our own unheeding way. Plant thorns about our feet, touch our hearts with fear, give us no rest apart from Thee, lest we lose our way and miss the happy gate. Amen._--W. E. Orchard. First Week, Third Day Man cannot live without faith because the prime requisite in life's adventure is _courage_, and the sustenance of courage is faith. =And what shall I more say? for the time will fail me if I tell of Gideon, Barak, Samson, Jephthah; of David and Samuel and the prophets: who through faith subdued kingdoms, wrought righteousness, obtained promises, stopped the mouths of lions, quenched the power of fire, escaped the edge of the sword, from weakness were made strong, waxed mighty in war, turned to flight armies of aliens. Women received their dead by a resurrection: and others were tortured, not accepting their deliverance; that they might obtain a better resurrection: and others had trial of mockings and scourgings, yea, moreover of bonds and imprisonment: they were stoned, they were sawn asunder, they were tempted, they were slain with the sword: they went about in sheep-skins, in goat-skins; being destitute, afflicted, ill-treated (of whom the world was not worthy), wandering in deserts and mountains and caves, and the holes of the earth. And these all, having had witness borne to them through their faith, received not the promise, God having provided some better thing concerning us, that apart from us they should not be made perfect.--Heb. 11:32-40.= When in comparison with men and women of such admirable spirit, one thinks of weak personalities, that ravel out at the first strain, he sees that the difference lies in courage. _When a man loses heart he loses everything._ Now to keep one's heart in the midst of life's stress and to maintain an undiscourageable front in the face of its difficulties is not an achievement which springs from anything that a laboratory can demonstrate or that logic can confirm. It is an achievement of faith, "The virtue to exist by faith As soldiers live by courage." Consider this account of Havelock, the great English general: "As he sat at dinner with his son on the evening of the 17th, his mind appeared for the first and last time to be affected with gloomy forebodings, as it dwelt on the probable annihilation of his brave men in a fruitless attempt to accomplish what was beyond their strength. After musing long in deep thought, his strong sense of duty and his confidence in the justice of his cause restored the buoyancy of his spirit; and he exclaimed, 'If the worst comes to the worst, we can but die with our swords in our hands!'" No man altogether escapes the need for such a spirit, and, as with Havelock and the Hebrew heroes, confidence in someone, faith in something, is that spirit's source. _O God, who hast sent us to school in this strange life of ours, and hast set us tasks which test all our courage, trust, and fidelity; may we not spend our days complaining at circumstance or fretting at discipline, but give ourselves to learn of life and to profit by every experience. Make us strong to endure._ _We pray that when trials come upon us we may not shirk the issue or lose our faith in Thy goodness, but committing our souls unto Thee who knowest the way that we take, come forth as gold tried in the fire._ _Grant by Thy grace that we may not be found wanting in the hour of crisis. When the battle is set, may we know on which side we ought to be, and when the day goes hard, cowards steal from the field, and heroes fall around the standard, may our place be found where the fight is fiercest. If we faint, may we not be faithless; if we fall, may it be while facing the foe. Amen._--W. E. Orchard. First Week, Fourth Day Man cannot live without faith, because the adventure of life demands not only courage to achieve but _patience to endure and wait_, and all untroubled patience is founded on faith. When the writer to the Hebrews speaks of those who "through faith and patience inherit the promises" (Heb. 6:12), he joins two things that in experience no man successfully can separate. By as much as we need patience, we need faith. =But call to remembrance the former days, in which, after ye were enlightened, ye endured a great conflict of sufferings; partly, being made a gazingstock both by reproaches and afflictions; and partly, becoming partakers with them that were so used. For ye both had compassion on them that were in bonds, and took joyfully the spoiling of your possessions, knowing that ye have for yourselves a better possession and an abiding one. Cast not away therefore your boldness, which hath great recompense of reward. For ye have need of patience, that, having done the will of God, ye may receive the promise.--Heb. 10:32-36.= The most difficult business in the world is _waiting_. There are times in every life when action, however laborious and sacrificial, would be an unspeakable relief; but to sit still because necessity constrains us, endeavoring to live out the admonition of the psalmist, "Rest in the Lord, and wait patiently for him," is prodigiously difficult. _No one can do it without some kind of faith._ "In your patience," said Jesus, "ye shall win your souls" (Luke 21:19), but such an achievement is no affair of logic or scientific demonstration; it is a venture of triumphant faith. The great believers have been the unwearied waiters; faith meant to them not controversial opinion, but sustaining power. As another has phrased it, "Our faculties of belief were not primarily given to us to make orthodoxies and heresies withal; they were given us to _live_ by." _We beseech of Thee, O Lord our God, that Thou wilt grant to every one of us in Thy presence, this morning, the special mercies which he needs--strength where weakness prevails, and patience where courage has failed. Grant, we pray Thee, that those who need long-suffering may find themselves strangely upborne and sustained. Grant that those who wander in doubt and darkness may feel distilling upon their soul the sweet influence of faith. Grant that those who are heart-weary, and sick from hope deferred, may find the God of all salvation. Confirm goodness in those that are seeking it. Restore, we pray Thee, those who have wandered from the path of rectitude. Give every one honesty. May all transgressors of Thy law return to the Shepherd and Bishop of their souls with confession of sin, and earnest and sincere repentance. Amen._--Henry Ward Beecher. First Week, Fifth Day Man cannot live without faith because he exists in a universe, the complete explanation of which is forever beyond his grasp, so that _whatever he thinks about the total meaning of creation is fundamentally faith_. =By faith we understand that the worlds have been framed by the word of God, so that what is seen hath not been made out of things which appear.--Heb. 11:3.= Not only is this true, but if we think that there is _no_ God, that also is faith; and if we hold that the basic reality is physical atoms, that is faith; and whatever anybody believes about the origin and destiny of life is faith. When Haeckel says that the creator is "Cosmic Ether," and when John says that "God is love," they both are making a leap of faith. This does not mean that faith can dispense with reason. In these studies we shall set ourselves to marshal the ample arguments that support man's faith in God. But when the utmost that argument can do has been achieved, the finite mind, dealing with the infinite reality, is forced to a sally of faith, a venture of confidence in Goodness at the heart of the world, not opposed to reason but surpassing reason. _Faith always sees more with her eye than logic can reach with her hand._ And especially when men come to the highest thought of life's meaning and believe in the Christian God, they face the fact which the writer to the Hebrews presents: =And without faith it is impossible to be well-pleasing unto him; for he that cometh to God must believe that he is, and that he is a rewarder of them that seek after him.--Heb. 11:6.= Indeed, in all stout conviction about the meaning of life there is a certain defiant note, refusing to surrender to small objections. Cried Stevenson, "I believe in an ultimate decency of things; ay, and if I woke in hell, should still believe it!" _O Thou Infinite Spirit, who needest no words for man to hold his converse with Thee, we would enter into Thy presence, we would reverence Thy power, we would worship Thy wisdom, we would adore Thy justice, we would be gladdened by Thy love, and blessed by our communion with Thee. We know that Thou needest no sacrifice at our hands, nor any offering at our lips; yet we live in Thy world, we taste Thy bounty, we breathe Thine air, and Thy power sustains us, Thy justice guides, Thy goodness preserves, and Thy love blesses us forever and ever. O Lord, we cannot fail to praise Thee, though we cannot praise Thee as we would. We bow our faces down before Thee with humble hearts, and in Thy presence would warm our spirits for a while, that the better we may be prepared for the duties of life, to endure its trials, to bear its crosses, and to triumph in its lasting joys...._ _In times of darkness, when men fail before Thee, in days when men of high degree are a lie, and those of low degree are a vanity, teach us, O Lord, to be true before Thee, not a vanity, but soberness and manliness; and may we keep still our faith shining in the midst of darkness, the beacon-light to guide us over stormy seas to a home and haven at last. Father, give us strength for our daily duty, patience for our constant or unaccustomed cross, and in every time of trial give us the hope that sustains, the faith that wins the victory and obtains satisfaction and fulness of joy. Amen._--Theodore Parker. First Week, Sixth Day Man cannot live, lacking faith, because _without it life's richest experiences go unappropriated_. Opportunities for friendship lie all about us, but only by trustful self-giving can they be enjoyed; chances to serve good causes continually beckon us, but one must have faith to try; superior minds offer us their treasures, but to avail oneself of instruction from another involves teachable humility. A man without capacity to let himself go out to other men in friendly trust or to welcome new illumination on his thought with grateful faith would be shut out from the priceless treasures of humanity. A certain trustful openheartedness, a willingness to venture in personal relationship and in attempts at service is essential to a rich and fruitful life. And what is true of man's relationship with man is true of man's relationship with God. So Prof. William James, of Harvard, states the case: "Just as a man who in a company of gentlemen made no advances, asked a warrant for every concession, and believed no one's word without proof, would cut himself off by such churlishness from all the social rewards that a more trusting spirit would earn--so here, one who should shut himself up in snarling logicality and try to make the gods extort his recognition willy-nilly, or not get it at all, might cut himself off forever from his only opportunity of making the gods' acquaintance." _Wherever in life great spiritual values await man's appropriation, only faith can appropriate them._ =Let us fear therefore, lest haply, a promise being left of entering into his rest, any one of you should seem to have come short of it. For indeed we have had good tidings preached unto us, even as also they: but the word of hearing did not profit them, because it was not united by faith with them that heard!--Heb. 4:1, 2.= _O Infinite Source of life and health and joy! the very thought of Thee is so wonderful that in this thought we would rest and be still. Thou art Beauty and Grace and Truth and Power. Thou art the light of every heart that sees Thee, the life of every soul that loves Thee, the strength of every mind that seeks Thee. From our narrow and bounded world we would pass into Thy greater world. From our petty and miserable selves we would escape to Thee, to find in Thee the power and the freedom of a larger life.... We recognize Thee in all the deeper experiences of the soul. When the conscience utters its warning voice, when the heart is tender and we forgive those who have wronged us in word or deed, when we feel ourselves upborne above time and place, and know ourselves citizens of Thy everlasting Kingdom, we realize, O Lord, that these things, while they are in us, are not of us. They are Thine, the work of Thy Spirit brooding upon our souls._ _Spirit of Holiness and Peace! Search all our motives; try the secret places of our souls; set in the light any evil that may lurk within, and lead us in the way everlasting. Amen._--Samuel McComb. First Week, Seventh Day Man cannot live without faith, because in life's adventure the central problem is _building character_. Now, character is not a product of logic, but of faith in ideals and of sacrificial devotion to them. What is becomes only the starting point of a campaign for what _ought to be_, and in the prosecution of that campaign what ought to be must be believed in with passionate intensity. Faith of some sort, therefore, is necessarily the dynamic of character; only limp and ragged living is possible without faith; and the greatest characters are girded by the most ample faith in God and goodness. The writer to the Hebrews saw this intimate relationship between quality of faith and quality of life, and challenged his readers to judge the Christian faith by its consequence in character. =Remember them that had the rule over you, men that spake unto you the word of God; and considering the issue of their life, imitate their faith.--Heb. 13:7.= Such are the basic elements in human experience that make faith necessary: we deal with a future, about which we must think, with reference to which we must act, and adventuring into which we need courage and patience; this venture of life takes place in a world the meaning of which can be grasped only by a leap of faith; and in this venture the best treasures of the spirit are obtainable only through openheartedness, and character is possible only to men of resolute conviction. Plainly the subject to whose study we are setting ourselves is no affair of theoretical interest alone; it affects the deepest issues of life. No words could better summarize this vital idea of faith which the Epistle to the Hebrews presents than Hartley Coleridge's: "Think not the faith by which the just shall live Is a dead creed, a map correct of heaven, Far less a feeling, fond and fugitive, A thoughtless gift, withdrawn as soon as given. It is an affirmation and an act That bids eternal truth be present fact." _How great are the mercies, O Lord our God, which Thou hast prepared for all that put their trust in Thee!... Thou hast comfort for those that are in affliction; Thou hast strength for those that are weak; ... Thou hast all blessings that are needed, and standest ready to be all things to all, and in all. And yet, with bread enough and to spare, with raiment abundant, and with all medicine, how many are there that go hungry, and naked, and sick, and destitute of all things! We desire, O Lord, that Thou wilt, to all Thine other mercies, add that gift by which we shall trust in Thee--faith that works by love; faith that abides with us; faith that transforms material things, and gives them to us in their spiritual meanings; faith that illumines the world by a light that never sets, that shines brighter than the day, and that clears the night quite out of our experience. This is the portion that Thou hast provided for thy people. We beseech of Thee, grant us this faith, that shall give us victory over the world and over ourselves; that shall make us valiant in all temptation and bring us off conquerors and more than conquerors through Him that loved us. Amen._--Henry Ward Beecher. COMMENT FOR THE WEEK I When Donald Hankey, who died in the trenches in the Great War, said that "True religion is betting one's life that there is a God," he not only gave expression to his own virile Christianity, but he gave a good description of all effective faith whatsoever. Faith is holding reasonable convictions, in realms beyond the reach of final demonstration, and, as well, it is thrusting out one's life upon those convictions as though they were surely true. _Faith is vision plus valor._ Our study may well begin by recognizing that, as it is exercised in the religious life, such faith is the supreme use of an attitude which we are employing in every other realm. No man can live without vision to see as true what as yet he cannot prove, or without valor to act on the basis of his insight. Our vocabulary in ordinary relationships, quite as much as in religion, is full of words involving faith. I believe, I feel sure, I am confident, I venture--such phrases express our common attitudes in work and thought. Each day we act on reasonable probabilities, hold convictions not yet verified, take risks whose outcome we cannot know, and trust people whom we have barely met. We may pride ourselves that our twentieth century's life is being built on scientifically demonstrable knowledge, but a swift review of any day's experience shows how indispensable is another attitude, without which our verifiable knowledge would be an unused instrument. In order to _live_ we must have insight and daring. It is not alone the just who live by faith; lacking it, there is no real life anywhere. To be sure, we may not leap from this general necessity of faith to the conclusion that therefore our religious beliefs are justified. Many men use faith in business and in social life who cannot find their way to convictions about God. But our desire to understand faith's meaning is quickened when we see how indispensable a place it holds, how tremendous an influence it wields, whether it be religiously applied or not. All sorts of human enterprise bear witness to its unescapable necessity. Haeckel, the biologist, describing science's method, says: "Scientific faith fills the gaps in our knowledge of natural laws with temporary hypotheses." Lincoln, the statesman, entreating the people, cries: "Let us have faith that right makes might and in that faith let us to the end dare to do our duty." Stevenson, the invalid, trying with fortitude to bear his trial, writes: "Whether on the first of January or the thirty-first of December, faith is a good word to end on." And the Master states the substance of religion in a single phrase: "Have faith in God" (Mark 11:22). Scientific procedure, social welfare, personal quality, religion--the applications of our subject are as wide as life. Vision and valor are the dynamic forces in all achievement, intellectual as well as moral, and as for man's spiritual values and satisfactions, "It is faith in something," as Oliver Wendell Holmes put it, "which makes life worth living." II One major reason for this necessary place of faith in our experience is clear. _Life is an adventure and adventure always demands insight and daring._ That "Chinese" Gordon, on his hazardous expedition into the Soudan, should be thrown back on undiscourageable faith in himself, in the justice of his cause, in the bravery of his men, and in God; that he should even speak of praying his boats up the Nile, seems to us natural; for some kind of faith is obviously necessary to any great adventure. But men often forget that all ordinary living is essentially adventurous and that by this fact the need of faith is woven into the texture of every human life. It is an amazing adventure to be born upon this wandering island in the sky and it is an adventure to leave it when death calls. To go to school, to make friends, to marry, to rear children, to face through life the swift changes of circumstance that no man can certainly predict an hour ahead, these are all adventures. Each new day is an hitherto unvisited country, which we enter, like Abraham leaving Ur for a strange land, "not knowing whither he went" (Heb. 11:8), and every New Year we begin a tour of exploration into a twelvemonth where no man's foot has ever walked before. If we all love tales of pioneers, it is because from the time we are weaned to the time we die, life is pioneering. Of course we cannot live by verifiable knowledge only. Imagine men, equipped with nothing but powers of logical demonstration, starting on such an enterprise as the title of Sebastian Cabot's joint stock company suggests: "Merchants Adventurers of England for the discovery of lands, territories, isles and seignories, unknown." Indeed no knowledge of the sort that our scientific inductions can achieve ever will take from life this adventurous element. Scientific knowledge in these latter decades has grown incalculably; yet for all that, every child's life is a hazardous experiment, every boy choosing a calling takes his chances, every friendship is a risky exploration in the province of personality, and all devotion to moral causes is just as much a venturesome staking of life on insight and hope as it was when Garrison attacked slavery or Livingstone landed in Africa. To one who had acquired not only all extant but all possible knowledge, as truly as to any man who ever lived, life would be full of hazard still. He could not certainly know in advance the outcome of a single important decision of his life. He could not at any moment tell in what new, strange, challenging, or terrific situation the next hour might find him. With all his science, he must face each day, as Paul faced his journey to Rome, "not knowing the things that shall befall me there" (Acts 20:22). The reason for this is obvious. Our systematized knowledge is the arrangement under laws of the experiences which we have already had. It furnishes invaluable aid in guiding the experiments and explorations which life continuously forces on us. In every enterprise, however, we must use not only legs to stand on, but tentacles as well with which to feel our way forward--intuitions, insights, hopes, unverified convictions, faith. We project our life forward as we build a cantilever bridge. Part of the structure is solidly bolted and thoroughly articulated in a system; but ever beyond this established portion we audaciously thrust out new beginnings in eager expectation that from the other side something will come to meet them. Without this no progress ever would be possible. Every province of life illustrates this necessity of adventure. In _science_, the established body of facts and laws is only the civilized community of knowledge from whose frontiers new guesses and intuitions start. Says Sir Oliver Lodge about the great Newton: "He had an extraordinary faculty for guessing correctly, sometimes with no apparent data--as for instance, his intuition that the mean density of the earth was probably between five and six times that of water, while we now know it is really about five and one half." In _personal character_, our habits are basic, but our ideals in which, despite ourselves, we must believe, are pioneers that push out into new territory and call our habits after them to conquer the promised land. In _social advance_, some Edmund Burke, statesman of the first magnitude, basing his judgment on the established experience of the race, can call slavery an incurable evil and say that there is not the slightest hope that trade in slaves can be stopped; and yet within eighty-two years the race can feel its way forward to Lincoln's Emancipation Proclamation. As for _daily business_, adventurous daring is there the very nerve of enterprise. Says a modern newspaper man: "There are plenty of people to do the possible; you can hire them at forty dollars a month. The prizes are for those who perform the impossible. If a thing can be done, experience and skill can do it; if a thing cannot be done, only faith can do it." Great in human life is this adventurous element, and, therefore, great in human life is the necessity of faith. To chasten and discipline, to make reasonable and stable the faiths by which we live is a problem unsurpassed in importance for every man. III One result of special interest follows from this truth. It is commonly suspected that as mankind advances, the function of faith proportionately shrinks. It is even supposed that the place of faith in human life has sensibly diminished with our growing knowledge, and that Matthew Arnold told the truth: "The sea of faith Was once, too, at the full, and round earth's shore Lay like the folds of a bright girdle furl'd. But now I only hear Its melancholy, long, withdrawing roar, Retreating, to the breath Of the night-wind, down the vast edges drear And naked shingles of the world." Accordingly by custom we call the mediæval centuries the "Age of Faith." But even a cursory comparison between the mediæval people and ourselves reveals that among the many differences that distinguish us from them, none is more marked than the diversity and range of our faiths. One considers in surprise the things which they did not believe. That the world would ever grow much better, that social abuses like political tyranny and slavery could be radically changed, that man could ever master nature by his inventions until her mighty forces were his servants, that the whole race could be reached for Christ, that war could be abolished and human brotherhood in some fair degree established, that common men could be trusted with responsibility for their own government or with freedom to worship God according to the dictates of their own consciences--none of these things did the mediæval folk believe. One of the most distinguishing characteristics of the so-called "Age of Faith" was its lack of faith. It lived in a static world; it was poor in possibilities except in heaven; it pitiably lacked those most certain signs of vital faith, the open mind eager for new truth and the ardent, vigorous life seeking new conquests. In comparison with such an age our generation's faiths are rich and manifold. To call our time an "Age of Doubt" because of its free spirit of critical inquiry, is seriously to misunderstand its major drift. Bunyan's Pilgrim found Doubting Castle kept by Giant Despair and his wife Diffidence and in any Doubting Castle these two always dwell. But who, considering our generation's life as a whole, would call it diffident or desperate? It is rather robust and confident; its social faiths, at least, are unprecedented in their sweep and certainty. Even the Great War is the occasion of such organized faith in a federated and fraternal world as mankind has never entertained before. The truth is that with the progress of the race the adventure of life is elevated and enlarged, and in consequence faith grows not less but more necessary. _The faiths of a savage are meager compared with a modern man's._ The Australian bushman never dreams of laboring for social ideals even a few years ahead. What can he know of those superb faiths in economic justice and international brotherhood, which even in the face of overwhelming difficulty, master the best of modern men? The primitive mind was not curious enough to wonder whether the sun that rises in the morning was the same that set the night before. What could such a mind understand of modern science's faith in the universal regularity of law? Put a Moro head hunter beside Mr. Edison, and see how incalculable the difference between them, not simply in their knowledge, but in their faith as to what it is possible for humanity to do with nature! Or put a fetish worshipper from Africa beside Phillips Brooks and compare the faith of the one in his idol with the faith of the other in God. Faith does not dwindle as wisdom grows; vision and valor are not less important. _The difference between the twentieth century man and the savage is quite as much in the scope and quality of their faith as in the range and certainty of their knowledge._ Faith, therefore is not a transient element in human life, to be evicted by growing science. For whatever life may _know_, life _is_ adventure; and as the adventure widens its horizons, the demand for faith is correspondingly increased. If one tries to imagine the world with all faith gone--knowledge supposedly having usurped its place--he must conceive a world where no conscious life and effort remain at all. Take trust in testimony away from courts of law, and unsure experiments from the physician's practice; refuse the teacher his confidence in growing minds and the business man his right to ventures that involve uncertainty; abstract from civic reforms all faith in a better future, from science all unproved postulates, from society all mutual trust and from religion all belief in the Unseen, and life would become an "inane sand heap." A man who tries to live without faith will die of inertia. A society that makes the attempt will be paralyzed within an hour. The question is not whether or no we shall live by faith. The question is rather--By what faiths shall we live? What range and depth and quality shall they have? How reasonable and how assured shall they be? IV Among all the faiths which mankind has cherished and by which it has been helped in life's adventure, none have been more universally and more passionately held than those associated with religion. In the daring experiment of living, men naturally have sought by faith interpretation not only of life's details but of life itself--its origin, its meaning, and its destiny. Australian bushmen, unable to count above four on their fingers, have been heard discussing in their huts at night whence they came, whither they go, and who the gods are anyway. And when one turns to modern manhood in its finest exhibitions of intelligence and character, he sees that Professor Ladd, of Yale, speaks truly: "The call of the world of men today, which is most insistent and most intense, if not most loud and clamorous, is the call for a rehabilitation of religious faith." For it does make a prodigious difference to the spirit of our adventure in this world, whether we think that God is good or on the other hand see the universe as Carlyle's terrific figure pictures it--"one huge, dead, immeasurable Steam-engine, rolling on, in its dead indifference, to grind me limb from limb." It does make a difference of quite incalculable magnitude whether we think that our minds and characters are an evanescent product of finely wrought matter which alone is real and permanent, or on the contrary with John believe that "Now are we children of God and it is not yet made manifest what we shall be" (I John 3:2). How great a difference in life's adventure religious faith does make is better set forth by concrete example than by abstract argument. On the one side, how radiant the spirit of the venture as the New Testament depicts it! The stern, appealing love of God behind life, his good purpose through it, his victory ahead of it, and man a fellow worker, called into an unfinished world to bear a hand with God in its completion--here is a game that indeed is worth the candle. On the other side is Bertrand Russell's candid disclosure of the consequences of his own scepticism: "Brief and powerless is man's life; on him and all his race the slow sure doom falls pitiless and dark. Blind to good and evil, reckless of destruction, omnipotent matter rolls on its relentless way; for Man condemned today to lose his dearest, tomorrow himself to pass through the gate of darkness, it remains only to cherish, ere yet the blow falls, the lofty thoughts that ennoble his little day--proudly defiant of the irresistible forces that tolerate for a moment his knowledge and his condemnation, to sustain alone, a weary but unyielding Atlas, the world that his own ideals have fashioned despite the trampling march of unconscious power." Man's life, interpreted and motived by religious faith, is glorious, but shorn of faith's interpretations life loses its highest meaning and its noblest hopes. Let us make this statement's truth convincing in detail. _When faith in God goes, man the thinker loses his greatest thought._ Man's mind has ranged the universe, has woven atoms and stars into a texture of law; his conquering thoughts ride out into every unknown province of which they hear. But among all the ideas on which the mind of man has taken hold, incomparably the greatest is the idea of God. In sheer weight and range no other thought of man compares with that. Amid the crash of stars, the reign of law, the vicissitudes of human history, and the griefs that drive their ploughshares into human hearts, to gather up all existence into spiritual unity and to believe in God, is the sublimest venture of the human mind. _When faith in God goes, man the worker loses his greatest motive._ Man masters nature until the forces that used to scare him now obey; in society he labors tirelessly that his children may have a better world. Wars come, destroying the achievements of ages; yet when war is over, man rebuilds his cities, recreates his commerce, dreams again his human brotherhoods, and toils on. Many motives, deep and shallow, fine and coarse, have sustained him in this tireless work, but when one seeks the fountain of profoundest hope in mankind's toil he finds it in religious faith. To believe that we do not stand alone, hopelessly pitted against the dead apathy of cosmic forces which in the end will crush us in some solar wreck and bring our work to naught; to believe that we are fellow-laborers with God, our human purposes comprehended in a Purpose, God behind us, within us, ahead of us--this incomparably has been the master-faith in man's greatest work. _When faith in God goes, man the sinner loses his strongest help._ For man is a sinner. He tears his spiritual heritage to shreds in licentiousness and drink. He wallows in vice, wins by cruelty, violates love, is treacherous to trust. His sins clothe the world in lamentation. Yet in him is a protest that he cannot stifle. He is the only creature whom we know whose nature is divided against itself. He hates his sin even while he commits it. He repents, tries again, falls, rises, stumbles on--and in all his best hours cries out for saviorhood. No message short of religion has ever met man's need in this estate. That God himself is pledged to the victory of righteousness in men and in the world, that he cares, forgives, enters into man's struggle with transforming power, and crowns the long endeavor with triumphant character--such faith alone has been great enough to meet the needs of man the sinner. _When faith in God goes, man the sufferer loses his securest refuge._ One who has walked with families through long illnesses where desperate prayers rise like a fountain day and night, who has seen strong men break down in health or lose the fortune of a lifetime, who has stood at children's graves and heard mothers cry, "How empty are my arms!" does not need long explication of life's tragic suffering. The staggering blows shatter the hopes of good and bad alike. Whether one's house be built on rock or sand, on both, as Jesus said, the rains descend and the floods come and the winds blow. In this experience of crushing trouble nothing but religious faith has been able to save men from despair or from stoical endurance of their fate. To face the loom of life and hopefully to lay oneself upon it, as though the dark threads were as necessary in the pattern as the light ones are, we must believe that there is a purpose running through the stern, forbidding process. What men have needed most of all in suffering, is not to know the explanation, but _to know that there is an explanation_. And religious faith alone gives confidence that human tragedy is not the meaningless sport of physical forces, making our life what Voltaire called it, "a bad joke," but is rather a school of discipline, the explanation of whose mysteries is in the heart of God. No one who has lived deeply can ever call such faith a "matter of words and names." To multitudes it is a matter of life and death. _When faith in God goes, man the lover loses his fairest vision._ When we say our worst about mankind, this redeeming truth remains, that each of us has some one for whose sake he willingly would die. The very love lyrics of the race are proof of this human quality, from homely folk songs like "John Anderson, My Jo, John" to great poetry like Mrs. Browning's sonnets. We call them secular, but they are ineffably sacred. And when one seeks the faith that has made these loves of men radiant with an illumination which man alone cannot create, he finds it in religion. Love is not a transient fragrance from matter finely organized--so men have dared believe; love is of kin with the Eternal, has there its source and ground and destiny; love is the very substance of reality. "God is love, and he that abideth in love, abideth in God, and God abideth in him" (I John 4:16). Man the lover is bereft of his finest insight and love's inner glory has departed, when that faith has gone. _When faith in God goes, man the mortal loses his only hope._ Man's nature, like a lighthouse, combines two elements. At the foundation of the beacon all is stone; as one lifts his eyes, all is stone still; but at the top is something new and wonderful. It is the thing for which the rock was piled. Its laws are not the laws of stone nor are its ways the same. For while the stolid rock stands fast, this miracle of light with speed incredible hurls itself out across the sea. Two worlds are here, the one cold and stationary, the other full of the marvel and mystery of fire. So man has in him a miracle which he cannot explain; he "feels that he is greater than he knows"; and he never has been able to believe that the mystery of spirit was given him in vain, had no reality from which it came, and no future beyond death. The finest thing ever said of Columbus is a remark of his own countryman, "The instinct of an unknown continent burned in him." That is the secret of Columbus' greatness. All the arguments by which he attempted to convince the doubters were but afterthoughts of this; all the labors by which he endeavored to make good his hopes were but its consequence. And if we ask of man why so universally he has believed in life to come, the answer leaps not superficially from the mind, but out of the basic intuitions of man's life. We know that something is now ours which ought not to die; the instinct of an unknown continent burns in us. But all the hopes, the motives, the horizons that immortality has given man must go, if faith in God departs. In a godless world man dies forever. One, therefore, who is facing loss of faith may not regard it as a light affair. To be sure, some denials of religion, even a Christian must respect. Huxley, for example, at the death of his little boy, wanting to believe in immortality as only a father can whose son lies dead, yet, for all that, disbelieving, wrote to Charles Kingsley, "I have searched over the grounds of my belief, and if wife and child and name and fame were all to be lost to me one after another as the penalty, still I will not lie." One respects _that_. When George John Romanes turned his back for a while on the Christian faith, he wrote out of his agnosticism, "When at times I think, as think at times I must, of the appalling contrast between the hallowed glory of that creed which once was mine, and the lonely mystery of existence as now I find it--at such times I shall ever feel it impossible to avoid the sharpest pang of which my nature is susceptible." One respects _that_. But some discard religion from their life's adventure with no such serious understanding of the import of their denial. They are pert disbelievers. They toss faith facilely aside in a light mood. Such frivolous sceptics indict their own intelligence. Whoever discards religious faith should appoint a day of mourning for his soul, and put on sackcloth and ashes. He must take from his life the greatest thought that man the thinker ever had, the finest faith that man the worker ever leaned upon, the surest help that man the sinner ever found, the strongest reliance that man the sufferer ever trusted in, the loftiest vision that man the lover ever saw, and the only hope that man the mortal ever had. So he must deny his faith in God. Before one thus leaves himself bereft of the faith that makes life's adventure most worth while he well may do what Carlyle, under the figure of Teufelsdröckh, says that he did in his time of doubt: "In the silent night-watches, still darker in his heart than over sky and earth, he has cast himself before the All-seeing, and with audible prayers cried vehemently for Light." V If minimizing the importance of religious faith is unintelligent, so is avoiding some sort of decision about religious faith impossible. Most of those into whose hands these studies fall will grant readily faith's incalculable importance. Some, however, will be not helped but plunged into deeper trouble by their consent. For they feel themselves unable to decide about a matter which they acknowledge to be the most important in the world. Asked whether they believe in God, they would reply with one of Victor Hugo's characters, "Yes--No--Sometimes." They grant that to be steadily assured of God would be an invaluable boon, but for themselves, how can they balance the opposing arguments and find their way to confidence? All our studies are intended for the help of such, but at the beginning one urgent truth may well be plainly put. However undecided they may appear, men cannot altogether avoid decision on the main matters of religion. Life will not let them. For while the mind may hold itself suspended between alternatives, the adventure of life goes on, and men inevitably tend to live either as though the Christian God were real or as though he were not. Some questions allow a complete postponement of decision. As to which of several theories about the Northern Lights may be true, a man can hold his judgment in entire suspense. Life does not require from him any action that depends on what he thinks of the Aurora Borealis; and whether a man think one thing or another, no conceivable change would be the consequence in anything he said or did. But there is another kind of question, where, however much the mind may waver between opinions and may resolve on indecision, life itself compels decision. A man cannot really be agnostic and neutral on a question like the moral law of sexual purity, for, by an irrevocable necessity, he has to act one way or another. He may stop thinking, but he cannot stop living. With tremendous urgency the adventure of life insistently goes on, and it never pauses for any man to make up his mind on any question. Therefore while a man may theoretically suspend his judgment as to the requirements of the moral law, his life will be a loud, convincing advertisement to all who know him that he has vitally decided. _A man can avoid making up his mind, but he cannot avoid making up his life._ Quite as truly, though, it may be, not quite as obviously, religious questions belong to this second class. Not all questions that are called religious belong there. With fatal pettiness religious men have reduced the great faiths to technicalities and some beliefs called religious a man may hold or not, with utter indifference to anything he is or does. But on the basic attitudes of religion such as we have just rehearsed, a man cannot be completely neutral, no matter how he tries. Bernard Shaw's remark, "What a man believes may be ascertained not from his creed, but from the assumptions on which he habitually acts," should be taken to heart by any one trying to remain religiously neutral. For one cannot by any possibility avoid "assumptions on which he habitually acts." He tends to undertake social service either as confident cooperation with God's purpose or as an endeavor to make one corner of an unpurposed world as decent as possible. He tends to follow his ideals, either as the voice of God calling him upward, or as the work of natural selection, adjusting him to a temporary environment. He tends to face suffering either hopefully as a school of moral discipline, in a world presided over by a Father, or grimly as a hardship in which there is no meaning. He tends to face death either as the supreme adventure, full of boundless hope, or as a final exit that leads nowhere. He may never consciously formulate his ideas on any of these matters, he may maintain an intellectual agnosticism, genuine and complete, but his living subtly involves the confession of some faith. "A man's action," said Emerson, "is only the picture-book of his creed." And the more thoughtful he is, the more he will be aware of that unescapable tendency to confess in his living an inward faith about life. One practical result of this urgent truth is too frequently seen to be doubtful. _Those who in religion do not decide, thereby decide against religion._ Religious faith is a positive achievement, and he who does not deliberately choose it, loses it. A man who, rowing down Niagara River, debates within himself whether or not he will stop at Buffalo, and who cannot decide, thereby has decided. His irresolution has not for a moment interfered with the steady flow of the river, and if he but debate long enough concerning his stop at Buffalo, he will awake to discover that he has finally decided not to stop there. As much beyond the control of man's volition is the steady flow of life. It pauses for no man's indecision, and if one is irresolute about any positive, aspiring faith in any realm, his indecisiveness is decision of a most final sort. This, then, is the summary of the matter. Life is a great adventure in which faith is indispensable; in this adventure faith in God presents the issues of transcendent import; and on these issues life itself continuously compels decision. Our obligation is obvious--since willy-nilly the decision must be made--to make it consciously, to reach it by reason, not by chance, by thinking, not by drifting. If a man is to be irreligious, let him at least know why, and not slip into this estate, as most irreligious men do, by careless living and frivolous thought. If a man is to be religious, let him have reason for his choice; let his faith be founded not on credulity and chance, but on real experience and reasonable thought. So his faith shall be good not only for domestic consumption, but for export too--clear in his own mind and convincing to his friends. The forms of thought shift with the centuries and old situations cannot be repeated in detail, but one crisis in its essential meaning is perennial: "Elijah came near unto all the people, and said, How long go ye limping between the two sides? if Jehovah be God follow him; but if Baal then follow him" (I Kings 18:21). CHAPTER II Faith a Road to Truth DAILY READINGS Many minds are prevented from even a fair consideration of religious faith by prejudices which spring, not from reasoned argument, but from practical experience. They are biased before argument has begun; they _feel_ that faith means credulity, and that religious faith in particular is a surrender of reason. Before we positively present faith as an indispensable means of dealing with reality in any realm, let us, in the daily readings, consider some of the practical experiences and attitudes that thus prejudice men against religion. Second Week, First Day Many men are biased in advance by the _unwise treatment to which in their childhood they were subjected_. Paul pictures the home life of Timothy as ideal: =I thank God, whom I serve from my forefathers in a pure conscience, how unceasing is my remembrance of thee in my supplications, night and day longing to see thee, remembering thy tears, that I may be filled with joy; having been reminded of the unfeigned faith that is in thee; which dwelt first in thy grandmother Lois, and thy mother Eunice; and, I am persuaded, in thee also.--II Tim. 1:3-5.= "Unfeigned faith" is often thus a family heritage, handed down by vital contagion. But in many homes religion is not thus beautifully presented to the children; it is a hard and rigorous affair of dogma and restraint. "Oh, why," said a young professional man, whom Professor Coe quotes, "why did my parents try to equip me with a doctrinal system in childhood? I supposed that the whole system must be believed on pain of losing my religion altogether. And so, when I began to doubt some points, I felt obliged to throw all overboard. I have found my way back to positive religion, but by what a long and bitter struggle!" If, however, one has been so unfortunate as to be hardened in youth by unwise training, is it reasonable on that account forever to shut himself out from the most glorious experience of man? This complaint about mistreatment in youth is often an excuse, not a reason for irreligion. Says Phillips Brooks: "I have grown familiar to weariness with the self-excuse of men who say, 'Oh, if I had not had the terrors of the law so preached to me when I was a boy, if I had not been so confronted with the woes of hell and the awfulness of the judgment day, I should have been religious long ago.' My friends, I think I never hear a meaner or a falser speech than that. Men may believe it when they say it--I suppose they do--but it is not true. It is unmanly, I think. It is throwing on their teaching and their teachers, or their fathers and their mothers, the fault which belongs to their own neglect, because they have never taken up the earnest fight with sin and sought through every obstacle for truth and God. It has the essential vice of dogmatism about it, for it claims that a different _view_ of God would have done for them that which no view of God can do, that which must be done, _under any system, any teaching_, by humility and penitence and struggle and self-sacrifice. Without these no teaching saves the soul. With these, under any teaching, the soul must find its Father." _O Thou, who didst lay the foundations of the earth amid the singing of the morning stars and the joyful shouts of the sons of God, lift up our little life into Thy gladness. Out of Thee, as out of an overflowing fountain of Love, wells forth eternally a stream of blessing upon every creature Thou hast made. If we have thought that Thou didst call into being this universe in order to win praise and honor for Thyself, rebuke the vain fancies of our foolish minds and show us that Thy glory is the joy of giving. We can give Thee nothing of our own. All that we have is Thine. Oh, then, help us to glorify Thee by striving to be like Thee. Make us just and pure and good as Thou art. May we be partakers of the Divine Nature, so that all that is truly human in us may be deepened, purified, and strengthened. And so may we be witnesses for Thee, lights of the world, reflecting Thy light._ _Help us to make religion a thing so beautiful that all men may be won to surrender to its power. Let us manifest in our lives its sweetness and excellency, its free and ennobling spirit. Forbid that we should go up and down the world with melancholy looks and dejected visage, lest we should repel men from entering Thy Kingdom. Rather, may we walk in the freedom and joy of faith, and with Thy new song in our mouths, so that men looking on us may learn to trust and to love Thee. Amen._--Samuel McComb. Second Week, Second Day Many men are prejudiced against religion during their youthful _period of revolt against authority_. Listen to an ancient father talking with his sons: =Hear, my sons, the instruction of a father, And attend to know understanding: For I give you good doctrine; Forsake ye not my law. For I was a son unto my father, Tender and only beloved in the sight of my mother. And he taught me, and said unto me: Let thy heart retain my words; Keep my commandments, and live; Get wisdom, get understanding; Forget not, neither decline from the words of my mouth; Forsake her not, and she will preserve thee; Love her, and she will keep thee. Wisdom is the principal thing; therefore get wisdom; Yea, with all thy getting get understanding. Exalt her, and she will promote thee; She will bring thee to honor, when thou dost embrace her. She will give to thy head a chaplet of grace; A crown of beauty will she deliver to thee.= =--Prov. 4:1-9.= No father can read this urgent, anxious plea without understanding the reason for its solicitude. Every boy comes to the time when he breaks away from parental authority and begins to take his life into his own hands. It is one of youth's great crises, and the spirit of it is sometimes harsh and rebellious. So Carlyle describes his own experience: "Such transitions are ever full of pain: thus the Eagle when he moults is sickly; and, to attain his new beak, must harshly dash-off the old one upon rocks." For religious faith this period of life is always critical. Stevenson in his revolt, when he called respectability "the deadliest gag and wet-blanket that can be laid on man," also became, as he said, "a youthful atheist." How many have traveled that road and stopped in the negation! Stevenson did not stop, and years afterward wrote of his progress: "Because I have reached Paris, I am not ashamed of having passed through Newhaven and Dieppe." Surely if anyone has been "a youthful atheist," it was an experience to be "passed through." _O God, we turn to Thee in the faith that Thou dost understand and art very merciful. Some of us are not sure concerning Thee; not sure what Thou art; not sure that Thou art at all. Yet there is something at work behind our minds, in times of stillness we hear it, like a distant song; there is something in the sky at evening-time; something in the face of man. We feel that round our incompleteness flows Thy greatness, round our restlessness Thy rest. Yet this is not enough._ _We want a heart to speak to, a heart that understands; a friend to whom we can turn, a breast on which we may lean. O that we could find Thee! Yet could we ever think these things unless Thou hadst inspired us, could we ever want these things unless Thou Thyself wert very near?_ _Some of us know full well; but we are sore afraid. We dare not yield ourselves to Thee, for we fear what that might mean. Our foolish freedom, our feeble pleasures, our fatal self-indulgence suffice to hold us back from Thee, though Thou art our very life, and we so sick and needing Thee. Our freedom has proved false, our pleasures have long since lost their zest, our sins, oh how we hate them!_ _Come and deliver us, for we have lost all hope in ourselves. Amen._--W. E. Orchard. Second Week, Third Day Some men--often the precocious, clever ones--are biased against religion because _in youth they accepted an immature philosophy of life and have never changed it_. The crust forms too soon on some minds, and if it forms during the period of youthful revolt, they are definitely prejudiced against religious truth. The difference between such folk and the great believers is not that the believers had no doubts, but that they did not fix their final thought of life until more mature experience had come. They fulfilled the admonition of a wise father to keep up a tireless search for truth: =My son, if thou wilt receive my words, And lay up my commandments with thee; So as to incline thine ear unto wisdom, And apply thy heart to understanding; Yea, if thou cry after discernment, And lift up thy voice for understanding; If thou seek her as silver, And search for her as for hid treasures: Then shalt thou understand the fear of Jehovah, And find the knowledge of God.= =--Prov. 2:1-5.= Mrs. Charles Kingsley, for example, says of her husband that at twenty "He was full of religious doubts; and his face, with its unsatisfied, hungering, and at times defiant look, bore witness to the state of his mind." At twenty-one Kingsley himself wrote: "You believe that you have a sustaining Hand to guide you along that path, an Invisible Protection and an unerring Guide. I, alas! have no stay for my weary steps, but that same abused and stupefied reason which has stumbled and wandered, and betrayed me a thousand times ere now, and is every moment ready to faint and to give up the unequal struggle." If Kingsley had framed his final philosophy then, what a loss to the world of an inspiring life transfigured by Christian faith! He cried after discernment, lifted up his voice for understanding, and he found the knowledge of God. Many a man ought to revise in the light of mature experience and thought a hasty irreligious guess at life's meaning which he made in youth. _O Father, we turn to Thee because we are sore vexed with our own thoughts. Our minds plague us with questionings we cannot answer; we are driven to voyage on strange seas of thought alone. Dost Thou disturb our minds with endless questioning, yet keep the answers hidden in Thy heart, so that away from Thee we should always be perplexed, and by thoughts derived from Thee be ever drawn to Thee? Surely, our God, it must be so._ _But still more bitter and humbling, O Father, is our experience of failure, so frequent, tragic, and unpardonable. We have struggled on in vain, resolves are broken ere they pass our lips; we can see no hope of better things, we can never forgive ourselves; and after all our prayers our need remains and our sense of coming short but deepens. Yet, at least we know that we have failed, and how, if something higher than ourselves were not at work within?_ _Our desperate desires have driven us at last to Thee, conscious now, after all vain effort, that it is Thyself alone can satisfy, and now at peace to know that Thou it is who art desired, because Thou it is who dost desire within us. Beyond our need reveal Thyself, its cause and cure; in all desire teach us to discern Thy drawing near. Amen._--W. E. Orchard. Second Week, Fourth Day Men are often prejudiced against religion because _the churches which they happened to attend in youth urged on them an irrational faith_. Some men never recover from the idea that all religion everywhere must always be the same kind of religion against which in youth their good sense rose in revolt; they are in perpetual rebellion against religion as it was when they broke with it a generation ago. But if one thing more than another grows, expands, becomes in the intelligent and pure increasingly pure and intelligent, it is religion. Consider an early Hebrew idea of God: =And it came to pass on the way at the lodging-place, that Jehovah met him, and sought to kill him. Then Zipporah took a flint, and cut off the foreskin of her son, and cast it at his feet; and she said, Surely a bridegroom of blood art thou to me. So he let him alone. Then she said, A bridegroom of blood art thou, because of the circumcision.--Exodus 4:24-26.= Over against so abhorrent a picture of a deity who would have committed murder, had not a mother swiftly circumcised her son, consider a later thought of God: =How think ye? if any man have a hundred sheep, and one of them be gone astray, doth he not leave the ninety and nine, and go unto the mountains, and seek that which goeth astray? And if so be that he find it, verily I say unto you, he rejoiceth over it more than over the ninety and nine which have not gone astray. Even so it is not the will of your Father who is in heaven, that one of these little ones should perish.--Matt. 18:12-14.= So religion grows with man's capacity to receive higher, finer revelations of the divine. And in no age of the world has so great a change passed over the intellectual framework of faith as in the generation just gone. To live in protest against forms of belief a generation old is fighting men of straw; the vanguard of religious thought and life has pushed ahead many a mile beyond the point of such attack. Men who threw away the living water of the Gospel because they disliked the water-buckets in which their boyhood churches presented it, are living spiritually thirsty lives when there is no reasonable need of their doing so. There is many an unbeliever with a "God-shaped blank" in his heart, who could be a confident and joyful believer if he only knew what religion means to men of faith today. _O God, who hast formed all hearts to love Thee, made all ways to lead to Thy face, created all desire to be unsatisfied save in Thee; with great compassion look upon us gathered here. Our presence is our prayer, our need the only plea we dare to claim, Thy purposes the one assurance we possess._ _Some of us are very confused; we do not know why we were ever born, for what end we should live, which way we should take. But we are willing to be guided. Take our trembling hands in Thine, and lead us on._ _Some of us are sore within. We long for love and friendship, but we care for no one and we feel that no one cares for us. We are misunderstood, we are lonely, we have been disappointed, we have lost our faith in man and our faith in life. Wilt Thou not let us love Thee who first loved us?_ _Some of us are vexed with passions that affright us; to yield to them would mean disaster, to restrain them is beyond our power, and nothing earth contains exhausts their vehemence or satisfies their fierce desire._ _And so because there is no answer, no end or satisfaction in ourselves; and because we are what we are, and yet long to be so different; we believe Thou art, and that Thou dost understand us. By faith we feel after Thee, through love we find the way, in hope we bring ourselves to Thee. Amen._--W. E. Orchard. Second Week, Fifth Day Many minds are prejudiced against religion because, having gone so far as to feel the credulity of religious belief, they have never gone further and _seen the credulity of religious unbelief_. Irreligion implies a creed just as surely as religion does; and many a man's return to faith has begun when his faculties of doubt, which hitherto had been used only against belief in God, became active against belief in no-God. Mr. Gilbert Chesterton, with his characteristic vividness and exaggeration, narrates such an experience: "I never read a line of Christian apologetics. I read as little as I can of them now. It was Huxley and Herbert Spencer and Bradlaugh who brought me back to orthodox theology. They sowed in my mind my first wild doubts of doubt. Our grandmothers were quite right when they said that Tom Paine and the free-thinkers unsettled the mind. They do. They unsettled mine horribly. The rationalist made me question whether reason was of any use whatever; and when I had finished Herbert Spencer I had got as far as doubting (for the first time) whether evolution had occurred at all. As I laid down the last of Colonel Ingersoll's atheistic lectures the dreadful thought broke across my mind, 'Almost thou persuadest me to be a Christian.' I was in a desperate way." Lest Mr. Chesterton's whimsicality may hide the seriousness of such an experience, we may add that Robert Louis Stevenson's first break with his "youthful atheism" came when, under the influence of Professor Fleeming Jenkin, he too began to have his "first wild doubts of doubt." He began thinking, as he says, that "certainly the church was not right, but certainly not the anti-church either." Many a man has played unfairly with his doubts; he has used them against religion, but not against irreligion. When he is thorough with his doubts he may join the many who understand what the apostle meant when he wrote to Timothy: =O Timothy, guard that which is committed unto thee, turning away from the profane babblings and oppositions of the knowledge which is falsely so called; which some professing have erred concerning the faith.= =Grace be with you.--1 Tim. 6:20, 21.= _O God, too near to be found, too simple to be conceived, too good to be believed; help us to trust, not in our knowledge of Thee, but in Thy knowledge of us; to be certain of Thee, not because we feel our thoughts of Thee are true, but because we know how far Thou dost transcend them. May we not be anxious to discern Thy will, but content only with desire to do it; may we not strain our minds to understand Thy nature, but yield ourselves and live our lives only to express Thee._ _Shew us how foolish it is to doubt Thee, since Thou Thyself dost set the questions which disturb us; reveal our unbelief to be faith fretting at its outworn form. Be gracious when we are tempted to cease from moral strife: reveal what it is that struggles in us. Before we tire of mental search enable us to see that it was not ourselves but Thy call which stirred our souls._ _Turn us back from our voyages of thought to that which sent us forth. Teach us to trust not to cleverness or learning, but to that inward faith which can never be denied. Lead us out of confusion to simplicity. Call us back from wandering without to find Thee at home within. Amen._--W. E. Orchard. Second Week, Sixth Day Many men are biased in favor of their habitual doubt because they do not see that _positive faith is the only normal estate of man_. We live not by the things of which we are uncertain, but by the things which we verily believe. Columbus doubted many of the old views in geography, but these negations did not make him great; his greatness sprang from the positive beliefs which he confidently held and on which he launched his splendid adventure. Goethe is right when he makes Mephistopheles, his devil, say, "I am the spirit of negation," for negation, save as it paves the way for positive conviction, always bedevils life. The psalmist reveals the ideal experience for every doubter. First, _uncertainty_: =But as for me, my feet were almost gone; My steps had well nigh slipped. For I was envious at the arrogant, When I saw the prosperity of the wicked.= =--Psalm 73:2, 3.= Then _vision_: =When I thought how I might know this, It was too painful for me; Until I went into the sanctuary of God, And considered their latter end.= =--Psalm 73:16, 17.= Then, _positive assurance_: =Thou wilt guide me with thy counsel, And afterward receive me to glory. Whom have I in heaven but thee? And there is none upon earth that I desire besides thee. My flesh and my heart faileth; But God is the strength of my heart and my portion for ever.= =--Psalm 73:24-26.= Doubt, therefore, does have real value in life; it clears away rubbish and stimulates search for truth; but it has no value unless it is finally swallowed up in positive assurance. So Tennyson pictures the experience of his friend, Arthur Hallam: "One indeed I knew In many a subtle question versed, Who touch'd a jarring lyre at first, But ever strove to make it true: Perplext in faith, but pure in deeds, At last he beat his music out. There lives more faith in honest doubt, Believe me, than in half the creeds. He fought his doubts and gather'd strength, He would not make his judgment blind, He faced the spectres of the mind And laid them: thus he came at length To find a stronger faith his own." _O Most Merciful, whose love to us is mighty, long-suffering, and infinitely tender; lead us beyond all idols and imaginations of our minds to contact with Thee the real and abiding; past all barriers of fear and beyond all paralysis of failure to that furnace of flaming purity where falsehood, sin, and cowardice are all consumed away. It may be that we know not what we ask; yet we dare not ask for less._ _Our aspirations are hindered because we do not know ourselves. We have tried to slake our burning thirst at broken cisterns, to comfort the crying of our spirits with baubles and trinkets, to assuage the pain of our deep unrest by drugging an accusing conscience, believing a lie, and veiling the naked flame that burns within. But now we know Thou makest us never to be content with aught save Thyself, in earth, or heaven, or hell._ _Sometimes we have sought Thee in agony and tears, scanned the clouds and watched the ways of men, considered the stars and studied the moral law; and returned from all our search no surer and no nearer. Yet now we know that the impulse to seek Thee came from Thyself alone, and what we sought for was the image Thou hadst first planted in our hearts._ _We may not yet hold Thee fast or feel Thee near, but we know Thou holdest us. All is well. Amen._--W. E. Orchard. Second Week, Seventh Day Men are often prejudiced against religion or any serious consideration of it, because they _never have felt any vital need of God_. To study wireless telegraphy in the safe seclusion of a college laboratory is one thing; to hear the wireless apparatus on a floundering ship send out its call for help across a stormy sea is quite a different matter. Many folk have never thought of faith in God save with a mild, intellectual curiosity; they do not know those deep experiences of serious souls with sin and sorrow and anxiety, with burden for great causes and desire for triumphant righteousness in men and nations--experiences that throw men back on God as their only sufficient refuge and hope. _Men never really find God until they need him_; and some men never feel the need of him until life plunges them into a shattering experience. Even in scientific research new discoveries are made because men _want_ them, and Mayer, lighting on a theory that proved to be of great value, says, "Engaged during a sea voyage almost exclusively with the study of physiology, I discovered the new theory, for the sufficient reason that I _vividly felt the need of it_." How much more must the vital discovery of God depend on life's conscious demand for him! And how certainly a shallow, frivolous nature, unstirred by the deep concerns of life, is biased against any serious interest in religious faith! Great believers have first of all _thirsted_ for God. =Ho, every one that thirsteth, come ye to the waters, and he that hath no money; come ye, buy, and eat; yea, come, buy wine and milk without money and without price. Wherefore do ye spend money for that which is not bread? and your labor for that which satisfieth not? hearken diligently unto me, and eat ye that which is good, and let your soul delight itself in fatness. Incline your ear, and come unto me; hear, and your soul shall live: and I will make an everlasting covenant with you, even the sure mercies of David.... Seek ye Jehovah while he may be found; call ye upon him while he is near: let the wicked forsake his way, and the unrighteous man his thoughts; and let him return unto Jehovah, and he will have mercy upon him; and to our God, for he will abundantly pardon.--Isa. 55:1-3, 6, 7.= _Grant unto us, we pray Thee, the lost hunger and thirst after righteousness--the longing for God. Grant unto us that drawing power by which everything that is in us shall call out for Thee. Become necessary unto us. With the morning and evening light, at noon and at midnight, may we feel the need of Thy companionship.... Though Thou dost not speak as man speaks, yet Thou canst call out to us; and the soul shall know Thy presence, and shall understand by its own self what Thou meanest. Grant unto us this witness of the Spirit, this communion of the soul with Thee--and not only once or twice: may we abide in the light._ _Thou hast come unto Thine own; and even as of old, Thine own know Thee not, and believe Thee not. How many are there that have learned Thy name upon their mother's knee, but have forgotten it! How many are there that grew up into the happiness of a childhood in which piety presided, but have gone away, and have not come back again to their first love and to their early faith! How many are there marching on now in the Sahara of indifference and in the wilderness of unbelief!... Lord, look upon them; have merciful thoughts toward them, and issue those gracious influences of power by which what is best in them shall lift itself up and bear witness against that which is worst. Amen._--Henry Ward Beecher. COMMENT FOR THE WEEK I We are to deal in this chapter with one of the most common experiences of doubt and are to attempt the statement of a truth useful in meeting it. Many minds are undone at the first symptoms of religious uncertainty, because they suppose that their doubt is philosophical, and they feel a paralyzing inability to deal with philosophy at all. As men have been known to take to their beds at hearing the scientific names of illnesses which hitherto they had patiently endured, so minds are sometimes overwhelmed by an unsettlement of faith that takes the name of philosophic doubt. It is well, then, early in our study, to note the homely, familiar experience, which in most cases underlies and helps to explain the problem of theological unrest. We all began, as children, with an unlimited ability to believe what we were told. We were credulous long before we became critical. God and Santa Claus, fairy stories and life after death--in what beautiful, unquestioning confusion we received them all! Our thinking was altogether imitative, as our talking was. From the existence of Kamchatka to the opinion that it was wrong to lie, we had no independent knowledge of our own. Reliance on authority was our only road to truth. One prescription was adequate for every need of information: ask our parents and be told. This situation was the occasion of our first unsettlement of faith: we discovered the fallibility of our parents. They failed to tell us what we asked, or we found to be untrue what they had said, or they themselves confessed how much they did not know. To some this was a shock, the memory of which has never been forgotten. Edmund Gosse, the literary critic, tells us that up to his sixth year he thought that his father knew everything. Then came the fateful crisis when his father wrongly reported an incident which Edmund himself had witnessed. "Nothing could possibly have been more trifling to my parents," he writes, "but to me it meant an epoch. Here was the appalling discovery never suspected before that my father was not as God and did not know everything. The shock was not caused by any suspicion that he was not telling the truth, as it appeared to him, but by the awful proof that he was not, as I had supposed, omniscient." By most of us, however, the transfer of our faith from our parents' authority to some other basis of belief was easily accomplished. We found ourselves resting back on the priest or the church or the creed or the Bible. Still our convictions were not independently our own; we had never fought for them or thought them through; they were founded on the say-so of authority. What we wished to know we asked another, and what was told us we implicitly believed. The time inevitably comes, however, to a normally developing mind, when such an attitude of unquestioning credulity becomes impossible. The curious "Why?" of the growing child, that began in early years to besiege all statements of fact, now ranges out to call in question the propositions of religious faith. For long-accepted truths, from the rotundity of the earth to the existence of God, the enlarging intellect wants reasons rather than dogmas. So normal is this period of interrogation that it is regularly slated on the timetables of psychological development. Starbuck fixes the average age of the doubt period at about eighteen years for boys and about fifteen for girls. At whatever time and in whatever special form this period of doubt arises, the characteristic quality of its outcome is easily described. In the end the fully awakened mind is ill content to accept any authoritative statements that he dare not question or deny. He resents having a quotation from any source waved like a revolver in his face with the demand that he throw up his intellectual hands. No more in religion than in politics does he incline to stand before infallibility, like the French peasants before Louis XI, saying, "Sire, what are our opinions?" He claims his right to question everything, to make every truth advance and give the countersign of reasonableness, to weigh all propositions in the scales of his own thinking, and if he is to love the Lord his God at all, to do it, not with all his credulity, but, as Jesus said, with all his mind. Biography reveals how many of the great believers have passed through this youthful period of rebellion against accepted tradition and have suffered serious religious unsettlement in the process. Robert Browning tells us that as a boy he was "passionately religious." When his period of questioning and revolt arrived, however, it carried him so far that he was publicly rebuked in church for intentional misbehavior, and in his sixteenth year, under the influence of Shelley's "Queen Mab," he declared himself an atheist. But in his "Pauline," written when he was twenty-one, the direction in which his quest was leading him was plain: "I have always had one lode-star; now As I look back, I see that I have halted Or hastened as I looked towards that star-- A need, a trust, a yearning after God." And when he grew to his maturity, had left his early credulousness with the revolt that followed it far behind and had used his independent thinking to productive purpose, from what a height of splendid faith did he look back upon that youthful period of storm and stress which he called "the passionate, impatient struggles of a boy toward truth and love"! Henry Ward Beecher's intellectual revolution was postponed until he had entered the theological seminary. "I was then twenty years old," he writes, "and there came a great revulsion in me from all this inchoate, unregulated, undirected experience. My mind took one tremendous spring over into scepticism, and I said: 'I have been a fool long enough--I will not stir one step further than I can see my way, and I will not stand a moment where I cannot see the truth. I will have something that is sure and steadfast.' Having taken that ground, I was in that state of mind for the larger part of two years." A wholesome restraint upon the wild perversions, the anarchic denials, the abysmal despairs of this period of life is the clear recognition that in some form it is one of the commonest experiences of man. II The treatment accorded to a youth who is passing through this difficult adjustment often determines, in a fine or lamentable way, his subsequent attitude towards religion. _Negative repression of real questions is of all methods the most fatal, whether it be practiced on the youth by others or by the youth upon himself._ "I have not been in church for twenty years," said a college graduate. "Why?" was the inquiry. "Because in college I learned from geology through how many ages this earth was slowly being built. Troubled by the conflict between this new knowledge and my early training, I went to my minister. He said that the Bible told us the earth was made in six days and that I must accept that on faith. That's why." Thousands of men are religious wrecks today because, when the issue was raised in their thinking between their desire for a reason and their traditional beliefs, they were told that to ask a reason is sin. George Eliot's experience unhappily is not unique. Just when in girlhood her mind was waking to independent thought, a book now long unread, Hennell's "Inquiry Concerning the Origin of Christianity," convinced her immature judgment that her early credulity had been blind. No one was at hand to state the faith in a reasonable way or to meet, not by denying but by using her right to think, the attacks of Hennell, which now are forgotten in their futility. She never came through her youthful unsettlement. Years after, F. W. H. Myers wrote: "I remember how at Cambridge I walked with her once in the Fellows' Garden of Trinity, on an evening of rainy May, and she, stirred somewhat beyond her wont, and taking as her text the three words which have been used so often as the inspiring trumpet calls of men--the words God, Immortality, Duty--pronounced with terrible earnestness, how inconceivable was the first, how unbelievable was the second, and how peremptory and absolute the third. Never, perhaps, had sterner accents affirmed the sovereignty of impersonal and unrecompensing law. I listened and night fell; her grave, majestic countenance turned toward me like a Sibyl's in the gloom; it was as though she withdrew from my grasp one by one the two scrolls of promise, and left me the third scroll only, awful with inevitable fate." In this period of readjustment, whether one is the youth in the midst of the struggle or the solicitous friend endeavoring to help, one most needs a clear perception of the ideal outcome of such intellectual unrest. Let us attempt a picture of that ideal. The youth who long has taken on his parents' say-so the most important convictions that the soul can hold, or who, with no care to think or question for himself, has looked to Book or Church for all that he believed about God, now feels within him that intellectual awakening that cannot be quieted by mere authority. He long has taken his truth preserved by others' hands; now he desires to pick it for himself, fresh from the living tree of knowledge. His declaration of independence from subjection to his parents or his Church is not at first irreverent desire to disbelieve; it is rather desire to enter into the Samaritans' experience when they said to the woman who first had told them about Jesus: "Now we believe, not because of _thy_ speaking; for we have _heard for ourselves_, and know that this is indeed the Saviour of the world" (John 4:41). The youth turns from second-hand rehearsal of the truth to seek a first-hand, original acquaintance with it. As he began in utter financial dependence on his father, then made a bit of spending money of his own, and at last moved out to make his living, ashamed to be a pensioner and parasite when he should be carrying himself, so from his old, intellectual dependence the youth passes to a fine responsibility for his own thinking and belief. He knows that such transitions, whether financial or intellectual, generally mean stress and perplexity, but if he is to be a man the youth must venture. In this transition beliefs will certainly be modified. Not only do forms of religious thinking shift and change with the passing generations, but individuals differ in their powers to see and understand. Religious faith, like water, takes shape from the receptacles into whose unique nooks and crannies it is poured. If the truth which the youth possesses is to be indeed his own, it will surely differ from the truth which once he learned, by as much as his mind and his experience differ from his father's. Even in the New Testament one can easily distinguish James' thought from Paul's and John's from Peter's. But change of form need not mean loss of value. To pass by fine gradations from unquestioning credulity to thoughtful faith is not impossible. Thus a boy learns to swim with his father's hands beneath him and passes so gradually from reliance upon another to independent power to swim alone that he cannot tell when first the old support was quietly withdrawn. Thus ideally pictured, this transition is nothing to be feared; it is one of life's steps to spiritual power. This period of questioning and venture we have called the passage from credulity to independence, but its significance is deeper than those words imply. _It is the passage from hearsay to reality._ Of all inward intimate experiences, religion reaches deepest and is least transferable. It is as incommunicable as friendship. A father may commend a comrade to his son and lay bare his own deep friendship with the man, but if the son himself does not see the value there nor for himself in loyalty and love make self surrender, the father can do nothing more. Friendship cannot be carried on by proxy. One can as easily breathe for another as in another's place be loyal to a friend or trust in God. When, therefore, the youth moves out from mere dependence on his father, his Bible, or his Church to see and know God in his own right, he is fulfilling the end of all religion. _For this his father taught him, for this the Book was written and the Church was founded._ As George Macdonald put it, "Each generation must do its own seeking and finding. The father's having found is only the warrant for the children's search." Said Goethe: "What you have inherited from your fathers you must earn for yourself before you can call it yours." This individual experience makes religion real, and the "awkward age" of the spirit when the old security of credulous belief has gone and the new assurance of personal conviction has not yet fully come, is a small price to pay for the sense of reality that enters into religion when a man for himself knows God. Such is the ideal transition from credulity to independence, from hearsay to reality. III One fallacy which disastrously affects many endeavors after this ideal transition is the prejudice that, since faith has hitherto in the youth's experience meant credulous acceptance of another's say-so, faith always must mean that. Faith and credulity appear to him identical. In "Alice through the Looking Glass" the Queen asserts that she is a hundred and one years, five months, and one day old. "I can't believe that," said Alice. "Can't you?" said the Queen. "Try again, draw a long breath and shut your eyes." So blind, irrational, and wilful does faith seem to many! So far from being an essential part of all real knowledge, therefore, faith seems to stand in direct contrast with knowledge, and this impression is deepened by our common phraseology. Tennyson, for example, sings: "We have but faith: we cannot know; For knowledge is of things we see." Before there can be any profitable discussion of religious belief, therefore, we need to see that faith is one of the chief ways in which continually we deal with reality; it is a road to truth, without which some truth never can be reached at all. The reason for its inevitableness in life is not our lack of knowledge, but rather that faith is as indispensable as logical demonstration in any real knowing of the world. Behind all other words to be said about our subject lies this fundamental matter: _faith is not a substitute for truth, but a pathway to truth; there are realities which without it never can be known_. For one thing, no one can know _persons_ without faith. The world of people, without whom if a man could live, he would be, as Aristotle said, either a brute or a god, is closed in its inner meaning to a faithless mind. Entrance into another life with insight and understanding is always a venture of trust. We cry vainly like Cassim before the magic cave, "Open, Barley," if we try to penetrate the secrets of a human personality without sympathy, loyalty, faith. These alone cry "Open, Sesame." Surely this knowledge of persons, impossible without faith, is as important as any which we possess. While the physical universe furnishes the general background of our existence, the immediate world in which we really live is personal, made up of people whom we fear or love, by whom we are cheered, admonished, hurt, and comforted. "The world is so waste and empty," cried Goethe, "when we figure but towns and hills and rivers in it, but to know that someone is living on it with us, even in silence--this makes our earthly ball a peopled garden." A solitary Robinson Crusoe would give up any other knowledge, if in return he could know even a benighted savage like Friday. But even a savage cannot be known by logical demonstration. Crusoe could so have learned some things, but when he wanted to know Friday, he came by way of adventures in confidence, personal trust and self-commitment, growing reliance and appreciative insight, assured loyalty and faith. He _knew_ whom he had _believed_. Moreover, such knowledge of persons is as solid as it is important. That two plus two make four cannot be gainsaid, and doubtless no other kinds of information can be quite so absolute as mathematical theorems. But when one thinks of a comrade, long loved and trusted until he is known through and through, for practical purposes one can think of nothing more stable than his knowledge of his friend. The plain fact is that we _do_ know people, know them well, and that this knowledge never has been or can be a matter of logical demonstration. By taking Arthur Hallam to pieces and analyzing him, the inductive mind might work out all the laws that are involved in Arthur Hallam's constitution; but that mind with all its knowledge would not know Arthur Hallam. Tennyson's "In Memoriam," however, makes clear that knowledge of a friend is not interdicted because scientific demonstration cannot supply it. Tennyson knew Hallam well, and this knowledge, far more solid and significant than most other information he possessed, was not achieved by grinding laws out of facts; it came, as all such knowledge comes, by faith. As one considers what this understanding of the personal world, seen with the open eyes of trust and loyalty, means to us, how assured it is, how it enriches and deepens life, he perceives that here at least faith is something far more than a stop-gap for ignorance, a dream, a fantasy. It is positively a pathway to truth. There is another realm where faith is our only way of dealing with reality; by it alone can we know _the possibilities of individuals and of society_. We are well assured now in the United States that the nation can be economically prosperous without slavery. But sixty years ago plenty of people were assured of the contrary, were convinced that if the abolitionists succeeded we could not economically endure. How did we come by this significant knowledge that the immoral system was dispensable? Not by logical demonstration. The economists of most of our universities logically demonstrated that slavery was essential. _Faith was the pathway to the truth._ Faith that a new order minus slavery was possible gained adherents, grew in certainty with access of new believers, fed its followers on hopes unrealized but passionately believed in, until _faith became experiment, and experiment became experience, and experience brought forth knowledge_. The nation trusted and tried. This is the only way to truth in the realm of moral possibilities. If the world were finished, its _i's_ all dotted and its _t's_ all crossed, we might exist on that sort of descriptive science that finds the facts and plots their laws. But the world is in the making; what is _actual_ is not quite so important to us as what is _possible_; we live, as Wordsworth sings, in "Hope that can never die, Effort and expectation and desire, And something evermore about to be." To endeavor to satisfy man, therefore, with descriptions of the actual is preposterous. The innermost meaning of personal and social life lies in the contrast between what we are and what we may become. Beyond the achieved present and the demonstrable future, stands the ideal, whose possibility we can never know as a truth without faith enough to try. When, therefore, one hears disparagement of faith as a poor makeshift for knowledge, he may be pardoned a sharp rejoinder. When has man ever found solid knowledge in this most important realm of human possibilities, without faith as the pioneer? We do not know first and then supply by belief what knowledge lacks. _We believe first, as Columbus did, and then find new continents because what faith first suggested a great venture has confirmed._ When Stephenson proposed to run a steam car forty miles an hour, a host of wise-acres proved the feat impossible on the ground that no one could move through the air so rapidly and still survive. If now we know that one easily survives a speed of over a hundred miles an hour in an aeroplane, it is because a faith that _saw_ and _dared_ introduced us to the information. We know now that democracy is not a futile dream, nor the conquest of the air by wireless and of the land by electricity a madman's frenzy; we know truths of highest import and certainty from the usefulness of radium to the wisdom of religious liberty, and all this knowledge existed as belief in possibility before it became truth in fact. Faith was "assurance of things hoped for, a conviction of things not seen" (Hebrews 11:1). Faith is no makeshift. Its power is nowhere felt more effectively than in the achievement of knowledge. IV So far is faith, then, from being blind credulity, that it alone deserves to be called the Great Discoverer. Everywhere faith goes before as a pioneer and the more prosaic faculties of the mind come after to civilize the newly opened territory. In the evolution of the senses touch developed first. All the knowledge that any creature had, concerned the tangible. But in time other senses came. Dimly and uncertainly creatures discerned by hearing and seeing the existence of distant objects. They became aware of presences which as yet they could not touch; they were furnished with clues, in following which they found as real what at first had been intangible. Such a relation faith bears to knowledge. Faith, said Clement of Alexandria, is the "ear of the soul." Said Ruskin, faith is "veracity of insight." By it we hear what as yet we cannot touch and see what the arms of our logic are not long enough to reach. All the elemental, primary facts of life are faith's discoveries; we have no other means of finding them. By faith we discover our _selves_. We do not hold back from living until we can prove that we exist. We never can strictly prove that we exist. The very self that we are trying to demonstrate would have to be used in the demonstration. We have no other way of getting at ourselves except to take ourselves for granted--accepting "This main miracle that you are you, With power on your own act and on the world." As Mr. Chesterton remarked, "You cannot call up any wilder vision than a city in which men ask themselves if they have any selves." By faith all men go out to live as though their selves were real. By faith we accept the existence of the _outer world_. We do not restrain ourselves from acting as though the physical world were really there, until we can prove it. We never can strictly prove it; perhaps it is not there at all. When through a microscope an Indian was shown germs in the Ganges' water, to convince him of the peril of its use, he broke the instrument with his cane, as though when the microscope was gone, the facts had vanished too. In his philosophy all that we see is illusion. Perhaps this is true--the world a phantasm and our minds fooling us. But none of us believes it. And we do not believe it because we live by faith--the elemental faith on which all common sense and science rest and without which man's thought and work would halt--that our senses and our minds tell us the truth. "It is idle to talk always of the alternative of reason and faith. _Reason itself is a matter of faith._ It is an act of faith to assert that one's thoughts have any relation to reality at all." By faith we even discover the _universe_. We cannot think of the world as a multiverse; we always think of it as having unity, and we do so whether as scientists we talk about the uniformity of nature, or as Christians we speak of one Creator. Not only, however, can no one demonstrate that this is a universe; _it positively does not look as though it were_. Opposing powers snarl at each other and clash in a disorder that gives to the casual observer not the slightest intimation that any unity is there. Thunder storms and little babies, volcanoes and Easter lilies, immeasurable nebulæ in the heavens and people getting married on the earth--what indescribable contrasts and confusions! Still we insist on thinking unity into this seeming anomaly, and out of it we wrest scientific doctrines about the uniformity of law. As Professor James, of Harvard, put it, "The principle of uniformity in nature has to be _sought_ under and in spite of the most rebellious appearances; and our conviction of its truth is far more like religious faith than like assent to a demonstration." One might suppose that beliefs so assumed and so incapable of adequate demonstration would make the knowledge based upon them insecure. _But the fact is that all our surest knowledge is thus based on assumptions that we cannot prove._ "As for the strong conviction," Huxley says, "that the cosmic order is rational, and the faith that throughout all duration, unbroken order has reigned in the universe, I not only accept it, but I am disposed to think it the most important of all truths." Faith then, in Huxley's thought, is not a makeshift when knowledge fails. Rather by faith we continually are getting at the most important realities with which we deal. As Prof. Ladd, of Yale, impatiently exclaims: "The rankest agnostic is shot through and through with all the same fundamental intellectual beliefs, all the same unescapable rational faiths, about the reality of the self and about the validity of its knowledge. You cannot save science and destroy all faith. You cannot sit on the limb of the tree while you tear it up by the roots." V If faith is thus the pioneer that leads us to knowledge of persons and of moral possibilities; if by faith we discover our selves, the outer world's existence and its unity, why should we be surprised that faith is our road to God? Superficial deniers of religion not infrequently seek the discredit of a Christian's trust by saying that God is only a matter of faith. To which the Christian confidently may answer: Of course God is a matter of faith. Faith is always the Great Discoverer. A man finds God as he finds an earthly friend. He does not go apart in academic solitude to consider the logical rationality of friendship, until, intellectually convinced, he coolly arms himself with a Q. E. D. and goes out to hunt a comrade. Friendship is never an adventure of logic; it is an adventure of life. It is arrived at by what Emerson called the "untaught sallies of the spirit." We fall in love, it may be with precipitant emotion; our instincts and our wills are first engaged; the whole personality rises up in hunger to claim the affection that it needs and without which life seems unsupportable; faith, hope, and love engage in a glorious venture, where logic plays a minor part. But to make friendship rational, to give it poise, to trace its origins and laws, to clarify, chasten, and direct--this is the necessary work of thought. Faith discovers and reveals; reason furnishes criticism, confirmation, and discipline. So men find God. They are hungry for him not in intellect alone, but with all their powers. They feel with Tolstoi: "I remembered that I only _lived_ at those times when I believed in God." They need him to put sense and worth and hope into life. As with the reality of persons, the validity of knowledge, the unity of the world, so in religion the whole man rises up to claim the truth without which life is barren, meaningless. His best convictions at the first are all of them insights of the spirit, affirmations of the _man_. But behind, around and through them all play clarifying thoughts, and reasons come to discipline and to confirm. But the reasons by themselves could not have found God. Faith is the Great Discoverer. "Oh! world, thou choosest not the better part, It is not wisdom to be only wise, And on the inward vision close the eyes; But it is wisdom to believe the heart. Columbus found a world and had no chart Save one that Faith deciphered in the skies; To trust the soul's invincible surmise Was all his science and his only art. Our knowledge is a torch of smoky pine That lights the pathway but one step ahead Across the void of mystery and dread. Bid then the tender light of Faith to shine By which alone the mortal heart is led Into the thinking of the thought Divine."[1] [1] Professor Santayana, of Harvard. CHAPTER III Faith in the Personal God DAILY READINGS We are to consider this week the Christian faith that God is personal. Before, however, we deal with the arguments which may confirm our confidence in such a faith, or even with the explanations that may clarify our conception of its meaning, let us, in the daily readings, consider _some of the familiar attitudes in every normal human life, that require God's personality for their fulfilment_. Men have believed in a personal God because their own nature demanded it. Third Week, First Day Men have believed in a personal God because of a _deep desire to think of creation as friendly_. F. W. Myers, when asked what question he would put to the Sphinx, if he were given only one chance, replied that he would ask, "Is the universe friendly?" Some have tried to think of creation as an enemy which we must fight, as though in Greenland we strove to make verdure grow, although the soil and climate were antagonistic. Some have tried to think creation neutral, an impersonal system of laws and forces, which we must impose our will upon as best we can, although in the end the system is sure to outlast all our efforts and to bring our gains to naught. But at the heart of man is an irresistible desire to think creation a friend, with whose good purposes our wills can be aligned, and whose power can carry our efforts to victorious ends. Says Gilbert Murray, of Oxford University, "As I see philosophy after philosophy falling into this unproven belief in the Friend behind phenomena, as I find that I myself cannot, except for a moment and by an effort, refrain from making the same assumption, it seems to me that perhaps here too we are under the spell of a very old ineradicable instinct." _But friends are always persons, and if creation is friendly then God is in some sense personal._ This faith is the radiant center of the Gospel. =But thou, when thou prayest, enter into thine inner chamber, and having shut thy door, pray to thy Father who is in secret, and thy Father who seeth in secret shall recompense thee. And in praying use not vain repetitions, as the Gentiles do: for they think that they shall be heard for their much speaking. Be not therefore like unto them: for your Father knoweth what things ye have need of, before ye ask him. After this manner therefore pray ye: Our Father who art in heaven, Hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come. Thy will be done, as in heaven, so on earth. Give us this day our daily bread. And forgive us our debts, as we also have forgiven our debtors. And bring us not into temptation, but deliver us from the evil one. For if ye forgive men their trespasses, your heavenly Father will also forgive you.--Matt. 6:6-14.= _O Lord, we would rest in Thee, for in Thee alone is true rest to be found. We would forget our disappointed hopes, our fruitless efforts, our trivial aims, and lean on Thee, our Comfort and our Strength. When the order of this world bears cruelly upon us; when Nature seems to us an awful machine, grinding out life and death, without a reason or a purpose; when our hopes perish in the grave where we lay to rest our loved dead: O what can we do but turn to Thee, whose law underlieth all, and whose love, we trust, is the end of all? Thou fillest all things with Thy presence, and dost press close to our souls. Still every passion, rebuke every doubt, strengthen every element of good within us, that nothing may hinder the outflow of Thy life and power. In Thee, let the weak be full of might, and let the strong renew their strength. In Thee, let the tempted find succor, the sorrowing consolation, and the lonely and the neglected their Supreme Friend, their faithful Companion._ _O Lord, we are weary of our old, barren selves. Separate us from our spiritual past, and quicken within us the seeds of a new future. Transform us by the breath of Thy regenerating power, that life may seem supremely beautiful and duty our highest privilege, and the only real evil a guilty conscience. Let us be no longer sad, or downcast, or miserable, or despairing, vexed by remorse, or depressed by our failures. Take from us the old self. Give us a new self, beautiful, vigorous, and joyous. Let old things pass away and let all things become new. Kindle within us a flame of heavenly devotion, so that to us work for Thee shall become a happiness, and rest in Thee shall become an energy, unchecked by fears within and foes without. Give us love, and then we shall have more than all we need, for Thou art Love, Thyself the Giver and the Gift. Amen._--Samuel McComb. Third Week, Second Day =Bless Jehovah, O my soul; And all that is within me, bless his holy name. Bless Jehovah, O my soul, And forget not all his benefits: Who forgiveth all thine iniquities; Who healeth all thy diseases; Who redeemeth thy life from destruction; Who crowneth thee with lovingkindness and tender mercies; Who satisfieth thy desire with good things, So that thy youth is renewed like the eagle.= =--Psalm 103:1-5.= Such an attitude of thankfulness as this psalm represents is native to man's heart. When he is glad he feels grateful: he has an irrepressible impulse to thank somebody. As between a boastful Nebuchadnezzar--"This great Babylon which I have built ... by the might of my power and for the glory of my majesty" (Dan. 4:30)--and the Master, grateful for the dawning success of his cause--"I thank Thee, O Father, Lord of heaven and earth" (Matt. 11:25)--we can have no doubt which is the nobler attitude. Man at his best always looks upon his blessings as gifts, his powers as entrustments, his service as a debt which he owes, and his success as an occasion of gratitude rather than pride. _But we cannot be really thankful to impersonal power._ Little children blame chairs for their falls and thank apple trees for their apples, but maturity outgrows the folly of accusing or blessing impersonal things. Thankfulness, in any worthy interpretation of the term, can never be felt except toward friendly persons who _intended the blessing_ for which we are glad. A thoughtful man, therefore, cannot be grateful to a godless world-machine, even though it has treated him well, for the world-machine never purposed to treat him well and his happiness is a lucky accident, with no good will to thank for it. Haeckel says that there is no God--only "mobile, cosmic ether." Imagine a congregation of people, under Haeckel's leadership, rising to pray, "O Mobile Cosmic Ether, blessed be thy name!" It is absurd. _Unless God is personal, the deepest meanings of gratitude in human hearts for life and its benedictions have no proper place in the universe._ _O God above all, yet in all; holy beyond all imagination, yet friend of sinners; who inhabitest the realms of unfading light, yet leadest us through the shadows of mortal life; how solemn and uplifting it is even to think upon Thee! Like sight of sea to wearied eyes, like a walled-in garden to the troubled mind, like home to wanderer, like a strong tower to a soul pursued; so to us is the sound of Thy name._ _But greater still to feel Thee in our heart; like a river glorious, cleansing, healing, bringing life; like a song victorious, comforting our sadness, banishing our care; like a voice calling us to battle, urging us beyond ourselves._ _But greater far to know Thee as our Father, as dear as Thou art near; and ourselves begotten of Thy love, made in Thy image, cared for through all our days, never beyond Thy sight, never out of Thy thought._ _To think of Thee is rest; to know Thee is eternal life; to see Thee is the end of all desire; to serve Thee is perfect freedom and everlasting joy. Amen._--W. E. Orchard. Third Week, Third Day =Have mercy upon me, O God, according to thy lovingkindness: According to the multitude of thy tender mercies blot out my transgressions. Wash me thoroughly from mine iniquity, And cleanse me from my sin. For I know my transgressions; And my sin is ever before me. Against thee, thee only, have I sinned, And done that which is evil in thy sight.= =--Psalm 51:1-4.= Penitence is one of the profoundest impulses in man's heart. And man at his deepest always feels about his sin as the Psalmist did: he has wronged not only this individual or that, but he has sinned against the whole structure of life, against whatever Power and Purpose may be behind life, and his penitence is not complete until he cries to the Highest, "Against Thee, Thee only, have I sinned." While men, therefore, have always asked each other for forgiveness, they have as well asked God for it. _But such an attitude is utterly irrational if God is not personal._ Persons alone care what we do, have purposes that our sins thwart, have love that our evil grieves, have compassion to forgive the penitent; and to confess sin to a world-machine--careless, purposeless, loveless, and without compassion--is folly. Yesterday we saw how impossible it was really to feel grateful to a materialist's god; today imagine congregations of people addressing to the Cosmic Ether any such penitent confessions as Christians by multitudes continually address to their Father: "We have erred and strayed from Thy ways like lost sheep." _Plainly in a world where creative power is impersonal the deepest meanings of penitence have no place._ Read over the prayer that follows, considering the futility of addressing such a penitent aspiration to anything impersonal; and then really pray it to the God whom Christ revealed: _We beseech Thee, Lord, to behold us with favor, folk of many families and nations gathered together in the peace of this roof, weak men and women subsisting under the covert of thy patience. Be patient still; suffer us yet awhile longer--with our broken purposes of good, with our idle endeavors against evil, suffer us awhile longer to endure and (if it may be) help us to do better. Bless to us our extraordinary mercies; if the day come when these must be taken, brace us to play the man under affliction. Be with our friends, be with ourselves. Go with each of us to rest; if any awake, temper to them the dark hours of watching; and when the day returns, return to us, our sun and comforter, and call us up with morning faces and with morning hearts--eager to labor--eager to be happy, if happiness shall be our portion--and if the day be marked for sorrow, strong to endure it._ _We thank Thee and praise Thee; and in the words of him to whom this day is sacred, close our oblation. Amen._--Robert Louis Stevenson.[2] Third Week, Fourth Day =Now the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, that ye may abound in hope, in the power of the Holy Spirit.--Rom. 15:13.= =For in hope were we saved: but hope that is seen is not hope: for who hopeth for that which he seeth? But if we hope for that which we see not, then do we with patience wait for it.--Rom. 8:24, 25.= Hope is no fringe on the garment of human life; it is part of the solid texture of our experience; without it men may exist, but they cannot live. Now some minds live by hope about tomorrow, or at the most, the day after tomorrow, and do not take long looks ahead. But as men grow mature in thoughtfulness, such small horizons no longer can content their minds; they seek a basis for hope about the far issue of man's struggle and aspiration. They cannot bear to think that creation lacks a "far-off divine event"; they cannot tolerate a universe that in the end turns out to be "An eddy of purposeless dust, Effort unmeaning and vain." _But it is obvious that if God is not in control of creation, with personal purpose of good will, directing its course, there is no solid basis for hope._ If the universe is in the hands of physical forces, then a long look ahead reveals a world collapsing about a cold sun, and humanity annihilated in the wreck. Some such finale is the inevitable end of a godless world. As another pictures it, mankind, like a polar bear on an ice floe that is drifting into warmer zones, will watch in growling impotence the steady dwindling of his home, until he sinks in the abyss. All optimistic philosophies of life have been founded on faith in a personal God, who purposes good to his children, and without such faith no hope, with large horizons, is reasonable. Paul is fair to the facts when he says, "Having no hope and without God in the world" (Eph. 2:12). When one asks why men have believed in a personal God, this clearly is part of the answer: only a personal God can be "the God of hope." _O God of heaven above and earth beneath! Thou art the constant hope of every age--the reliance of them that seek Thee with thoughtfulness and love. We own Thee as the guardian of our pilgrimage; and when our steps are weary we turn to Thee, the mystic companion of our way, whose mercy will uphold us lest we fall. Thou layest on us the burden of labor throughout our days; but in this sacred hour Thou dost lift off our load, and make us partakers of Thy rest. Thou ever faithful God, our guide by cloud and fire! without this blest repose our life were but a desert path; here we abide by the refreshing spring, and pitch our tents with joy around Thy holy hill. Yet when we seek to draw nigh to Thee, Thou art still above us, like the heavens. O Thou that remainest in the height, and coverest Thyself with the cloud thereof! behold, we stand around the mountain where Thou art; and if Thou wilt commune with us, the thunder from Thy voice of love shall not make us afraid. Call up a spirit from our midst to serve Thy will; and take away the veil from all our hearts, that with the eye of purity we may look on the bright and holy countenance of life. And when we go hence to resume our way, may it be with nobler spirits, with more faithful courage, and more generous will. For life and death we trust ourselves to Thee as disciples of Jesus Christ. Amen._--James Martineau. Third Week, Fifth Day =Jehovah is the portion of mine inheritance and of my cup: Thou maintainest my lot. The lines are fallen unto me in pleasant places; Yea, I have a goodly heritage. I will bless Jehovah, who hath given me counsel; Yea, my heart instructeth me in the night seasons. I have set Jehovah always before me: Because he is at my right hand, I shall not be moved. Therefore my heart is glad, and my glory rejoiceth: My flesh also shall dwell in safety. For thou wilt not leave my soul to Sheol; Neither wilt thou suffer thy holy one to see corruption. Thou wilt show me the path of life: In thy presence is fulness of joy; In thy right hand there are pleasures for evermore.= =--Psalm 16:5-11.= Many things in human life bring joy. From the sense of a healthy body and the exhilaration of a sunshiny day to the deep satisfactions of home and friends--there are numberless sources of happiness. But man has always been athirst to find joy in thinking about the total meaning of life. Lacking that, the details of life lose radiance, for, in spite of himself, man "Hath among least things An undersense of greatest; sees the parts As parts, but with a feeling of the whole." If when he thinks about God, he can, like this psalmist, rejoice in the love behind life, the good purpose through it, the glorious future ahead of it, then all his other blessings are illumined. Not only are there happy things _in life_, but _life itself_ is fundamentally blessed. But if when he raises his thought to the Eternal, he has no joyful thoughts about it, sees no love or purpose there, then a pall falls on even his ordinary happiness. Alas for that man who does not like to think about life's origin and destiny and meaning, because he has no joyful faith about God! Some men have what Epictetus called "paralysis of the soul" every time they think of creation, for to them it is a huge physical machine crashing on without reason or good will. But some men have such a joyful faith in the divine that their gladness about the whole of life redeems their sorrow about its details. So Samuel Rutherford in prison said, "Jesus Christ came into my room last night and every stone flashed like a ruby." For the thought of God in terms of friendly personality is the most joyful idea of him that man has ever had. Man's thirst for joy is one of the sources of his faith in a personal God. He has wanted what Paul called "joy and peace in believing" (Rom. 15:13). _We rejoice, O Lord our God, not in ourselves nor in the firm earth on which we tread, nor in the household, nor in the church, nor in all the procession of things where mankind moves with power and glory. We rejoice in the Lord. We rejoice in Thy strength. A strange joy it is. Day by day we find ourselves breaking out into gladness through the ministration of the senses, and by the play of inward thought; but Thou art never beheld by us.... Thou never speakest to us, nor do we feel Thy hand, nor do we discern Thy face of love and glory and power. We break away from all other experiences, and look up into the emptiness, as it seems to us, which yet is full of life; into that which seems cold and void, but wherein moves eternal power; into the voiceless and inscrutable realm where Thou dwellest, God over all, blessed forever.... O Lord our God, how near Thou art to us! and we do not know it. How near is the other life! and we do not feel it. It clothes us as with a garment. It feeds us. It shines down upon us. It rejoices over us.... Thither, out of narrow and anguishful ways, out of sorrows, out of regrets, out of bereavements, we look; and already we are rested before we reach it._ _Grant unto us, today, we beseech Thee, this beatific vision. Amen._--Henry Ward Beecher. Third Week, Sixth Day =For when one saith, I am of Paul; and another, I am of Apollos; are ye not men? What then is Apollos? and what is Paul? Ministers through whom ye believed; and each as the Lord gave to him. I planted, Apollos watered; but God gave the increase. So then neither is he that planteth anything, neither he that watereth; but God that giveth the increase. Now he that planteth and he that watereth are one: but each shall receive his own reward according to his own labor. For we are God's fellow-workers: ye are God's husbandry, God's building.--I Cor. 3:4-9.= One of the profoundest motives that can grip man's heart is the conviction that he is a fellow-worker with the Divine. To feel that there is a great Cause, on behalf of which God himself is concerned, and in the furtherance of which we can be God's instruments and confederates, is the most exhilarating outlook on life conceivable. Even people who deny God try to get this motive for themselves. One such man hopes for the success of his favorite causes in "the tendency of the universe"; another talks about "the nature of things taking sides." _But nothing save personality has moral tendencies, and only persons take sides in moral issues._ If the guidance of the world is personal, then, and then only, can we rejoice with confidence in a great Ally, who has moral purposes and who has committed to us part of his work. This was the Master's motive when he said, "My Father worketh even until now, and I work" (John 5:17). But one clearly sees that such an inspiring consciousness of cooperation with the Eternal depended on the certainty with which the Master called the Eternal by a personal name--Father. When men like Livingstone have gone out in sacrificial adventure for the saving of men they have not banked on the "tendency of the universe," nor trusted in any abstract "nature of things taking sides"; they have been servants of a personal God, under orders from him, and they have counted on personal guidance in the service of a cause whose issue was safe in God's hands. _O God, we pray Thee for those who come after us, for our children, and the children of our friends, and for all the young lives that are marching up from the gates of birth, pure and eager, with the morning sunshine on their faces. We remember with a pang that these will live in the world we are making for them. We are wasting the resources of the earth in our headlong greed, and they will suffer want. We are building sunless houses and joyless cities for our profit, and they must dwell therein. We are making the burden heavy and the pace of work pitiless, and they will fall wan and sobbing by the wayside. We are poisoning the air of our land by our lies and our uncleanness, and they will breathe it._ _O God, Thou knowest how we have cried out in agony when the sins of our fathers have been visited upon us, and how we have struggled vainly against the inexorable fate that coursed in our blood or bound us in a prison-house of life. Save us from maiming the innocent ones who come after us by the added cruelty of our sins. Help us to break the ancient force of evil by a holy and steadfast will and to endow our children with purer blood and nobler thoughts. Grant us grace to leave the earth fairer than we found it; to build upon it cities of God in which the cry of needless pain shall cease; and to put the yoke of Christ upon our business life that it may serve and not destroy. Lift the veil of the future and show us the generation to come as it will be if blighted by our guilt, that our lust may be cooled and we may walk in the fear of the Eternal. Grant us a vision of the far-off years as they may be if redeemed by the sons of God, that we may take heart and do battle for Thy children and ours. Amen._--Walter Rauschenbusch. Third Week, Seventh Day =I will extol thee, my God, O King; And I will bless thy name for ever and ever. Every day will I bless thee; And I will praise thy name for ever and ever. Great is Jehovah, and greatly to be praised; And his greatness is unsearchable. One generation shall laud thy works to another, And shall declare thy mighty acts. Of the glorious majesty of thine honor, And of thy wondrous works, will I meditate. And men shall speak of the might of thy terrible acts; And I will declare thy greatness. They shall utter the memory of thy great goodness, And shall sing of thy righteousness. Jehovah is gracious, and merciful; Slow to anger, and of great lovingkindness. Jehovah is good to all; And his tender mercies are over all his works. All thy works shall give thanks unto thee, O Jehovah; And thy saints shall bless thee.= =--Psalm 145:1-10.= Adoration springs from the deeps of man's spirit. We never can be content with looking down on things beneath us, nor with looking out on things that find our level. We always must look up to things above us. As a mediæval saint said, "_The soul can never rest in things that are beneath itself._" Worship, therefore, is an undeniable impulse in man's heart. Poets worship Beauty; scientists worship Truth; every man of honor worships Right. That is, the good, true, and beautiful stand above us calling out our adoration, and all the best in us springs from our worshipful response to their appeal. But this impulse to adore is never fulfilled until we gather up all life into spiritual unity and bow down in awe and joy before God. That is adoration glorified, worship crowned and consummated. And the only God whom man can adore with awe and joy is personal. No impersonal thing is worshipful; however great a _thing_ may be it still lies beneath our soul. No abstract Idea is worshipful; we still are greater than any _idea_ that we can hold. Only God, thought of in personal terms but known to be greater than any terms which human life can use, is adorable. _Men have believed in Him because worship is man's holiest impulse._ Such are the experiences of man, with which faith in a personal God is inseparably interwoven. Our demand for a friendly creation, our deepest impulses to thanksgiving, penitence, hope, joy, cooperation with the Eternal, and adoration of the highest--all require personality in God. As Professor William James said, "The universe is no longer a mere _It_ to us, but a _Thou_ if we are religious." _O Lord our God, Thy greatness is unsearchable, and the glory of Thy presence has overwhelmed us. Thou art hidden in excess of light; and if we were to behold Thee in the great sphere in which Thou art living, none of us would dare to draw near to Thee. Our imperfections, our transgressions, our secret thoughts, our wild impulses, that at times come surging in upon us, are such that we should be ashamed to stand before the All-searching Eye. Our lives are before Thee, open as a book, and Thou readest every word and every letter thereof. Blessed be Thy name, Thou hast taught us to come to Thee through the Lord Jesus Christ as through a friend, and thou hast taught us to draw near to Thee in person through the familiar way of Fatherhood; from our childhood we have said, Our Father, and in this way we are not afraid; in this way we come familiarly and boldly: not irreverently, but with the familiarity which love gives. Thou hast poured the light of Thy love upon the path which we tread, and Thou hast taught us to come rejoicing before Thee.... Open Thy hand and Thy heart, and say to every one of us, Peace be unto you! Amen._--Henry Ward Beecher. COMMENT FOR THE WEEK I We have been using freely the most momentous word in human speech as though we clearly understood its meaning. We have been speaking of God as though the import of the term were plain. But most of us, asked to state precisely what we mean by "God," would welcome such a refuge from our confusion as Joubert sought. "It is not hard to know God," said he, "provided one will not force oneself to define him." Many people who stoutly claim to believe in God live in perpetual vacillation as to what they mean by him. Writes one: "God to my mind is an impersonal being, but whether for convenience or through sheer impotence I pray to him as a personal being.... I know I talk on both sides of the fence, but that is just where I am." At times, indeed, some question whether there is any need to think or say what "God" may signify. They call him by vague names--the All, the Infinite. In moods of exalted feeling, impatient of definition, they wish to be left alone with their experience of the Eternal; they resent the intrusion of theology, as a poet, lost in wonder at a landscape, might resent the coming of surveyors with their clanking chains. So Walt Whitman wanted to see the stars rather than hear the astronomer, and after listening to the learned lecture, with its charts and diagrams, he says, "I became tired and sick, Till rising and gliding out I wandered off by myself, In the mystical moist night air, and from time to time Looked up in perfect silence at the stars." But, for all that, we well may be thankful for astronomers. At times the "mystical, moist night air" is absent; we do not wish to "look up in perfect silence at the stars"; and, even though we know in advance that they are bound to be inadequate, we do want as clear and worthy ideas as possible about the universe. Moreover, when such ideas are ours, looking up in perfect silence at the stars is more impressive than it ever was before. No more can men content themselves with a vague consciousness of God. Spirits like Wordsworth have raptures of which they sing, "In such access of mind, in such high hour Of visitation from the living God, Thought was not--in enjoyment it expired." In communion with nature, in love for family, in fellowship with God, such hours may come, but nature, family, and God must also be the objects of understanding thought. Days of vital need, if not of mental doubt, inevitably come when it is impossible any longer to use a term like "God" without knowing what we mean. The special urgency of this is felt by most of us because as children we were taught to picture the Divine in terms of personality. The God of the Bible is personal. Little that persons do, save sinning, is omitted from the catalogue of God's activities as he is pictured for us in the Scripture. He knows, loves, purposes, warns, rebukes, allures, rewards, and punishes, as only persons can. And all our relationships with him are clearly personal. When we pray we say "Our Father"; when we seek our duty we ask, "What wilt thou have me to do?" God is _He_ and _Thou_, not _It_, and friendship is the ideal relation of all souls with him. Moreover, in our maturity we are not likely to be interested in a God who is not personal. Whoever curiously asks why he believes in God, will find not simply _reasons_ but _causes_ for his faith, and will perceive that the causes of faith lie back of the reasons for it. Vital need always precedes the arguments by which we justify its satisfaction. A man eats one thing and shuns another on principles of dietetics that can be defended before his intelligence; but behind all such sophisticated reasons stands the vital cause of eating--hunger. So back of intellectual arguments for belief in God lies the initial cause of faith: _men are hungry_. Men believe in God because they hunger for a world that is not chance and chaos, but that is guided by a Purpose. They believe in God, because in their struggles after righteousness they hunger for a Divine Ally in whom righteousness has its origin, its ground and destiny. They believe in God because they hunger for confidence that Someone cares about our race in its conflicts and defeats and because in their individual experience they want a friend. Without such faith man feels himself to be, in Goethe's phrase, "a troubled wanderer upon a darkened earth." Plainly this elemental human hunger for purpose, righteousness, and friendship calls for something akin to personality in God. _Only persons have purpose, character, and friendliness._ The vital motives which lead men to seek God's comfort, forgiveness, guidance, and cooperation plainly imply his personality. Things do not forgive us, love us, nor purpose good concerning us, nor can any thing be imagined so subtle and so powerful as to satisfy the needs on account of which men come to God. If God is not personal, he can feel no concern for human life and a God of no concern is of no consequence. The philosophers of India, with a well-reasoned pantheistic system and centuries to make their philosophy effective, have failed to quell this deathless thirst for a God who counts. Every wayside shrine of Hinduism incarnates the old faith in gods conceived as friends, not things; and Buddha, who taught impersonal deity, is now himself adored as the Personal Lord of Love and Blessedness. Wherever one finds vital religion one finds that God is no dry impersonal abstraction, but man's friend. Boscamen, speaking of the Egyptian Book of the Dead and of the Chaldean Tablets, says: "Six thousand years ago in Egypt and Chaldea--it is not dread, but the grateful love of a child to his father, of friend to friend, that meets us in the oldest books of the world." And when one turns from the oldest to the newest books this inner demand of man's religious life has not ceased; it has been refined and confirmed. "The All would not be the All unless it contained a Personality," said Victor Hugo. "That Personality is God." Biography is lavish in illustrations of this need in man's religious life. The biographer of Theodore Parker, the freelance preacher of Boston, remarks: "In his _theology_ God was neither personal nor impersonal, but a reality transcending these distinctions. In his _devotions_ God was as personal as his own father or mother, and he prayed to him as such, daringly indifferent to the anthropomorphisms of his unfettered speech." When one passes from speculation to religion, he always comes into a realm where only a personal God will do. On this point even confessed unbelievers furnish confirmation. One who calls himself an agnostic writes: "At times in the silence of the night and in rare lonely moments, I experience a sort of communion of myself with Something Great that is not myself. Then the Universal Scheme of things has on me the effect of a sympathetic Person, and my communion therewith takes on a quality of fearless worship. These moments happen, and they are to me the supreme fact in my religious life." Always for the purposes of vital religion, God must have on us the "effect of a sympathetic Person." II When one, however, subjects this need of his religious life to searching thought, what difficulty he encounters! Multitudes, if they were candid, would confess what a college senior wrote: "When I am just thinking about God in a speculative or philosophical way, I generally think of him as impersonal, but for practical purposes I think of him as personal." Many folks feel thus distraught; at the heart of their religious life is the paralyzing doubt, that in a universe like this to think of God as personal is absurd. If a train moving a mile a minute should leave the earth, it must travel 40,000,000 years before it would reach the nearest star. The Creator of such a world is not readily reduced to the similitude of human life. Once men lived on a flat earth, small in compass and cosily tucked beneath the sky's coverlet, but now the world's vastness beggars imagination. As an astronomer remarked, coming from a session with his telescope, "This does away with a six-foot god; you cannot shake hands with the Creator of _this_." Men used to suppose that Arcturus was a single star, but now new telescopes reveal Arcturus as a galaxy of stars, thousands in number, with interstellar spaces so immense that thought breaks down in spanning them and imagination even cannot make the leap. Is the God of such a universe to be conceived in terms of a magnified man? So to picture deity seems at first sight a survival of mere childishness. Professor John Fiske, of Harvard, has told us that when he was a boy God always conjured up in his imagination the figure of a venerable bookkeeper, with white flowing beard, standing behind a high desk and writing down the bad deeds of John Fiske. How many of us can recall such early crude and childish thoughts of God! A mother asked her young daughter what she was drawing. "A picture of God," was the answer. "But no one knows what God looks like," the mother said. "They will," came the rejoinder, "when I get through." We all began with some such primitive idea of deity. Indeed, these early conceptions long persist in many minds, as the following statements, written by college students, indicate: "I think of God as real, actual skin and blood and bones, something we shall see with our eyes some day, no matter what lives we lead on earth." "It may be a remnant of youth, but anyhow, every time I think of God there appears a vague image of a man, with all members of the body, just enormously large." "I have always pictured him according to a description in _Paradise Lost_ as seated upon a throne, while around are angels playing on harps and singing hymns." "I think of God as having bodily form and being much larger than the average man. He has a radiant countenance beaming with love and compassion. He is erect and upright, fearless and brave."[3] No one of us may be contemptuous of such crude ideas; we all possessed them once. Indeed the loss of them, with their picture of deity, clear in feature and distinct in outline, has been to some a shock from which faith has not recovered. When increasing knowledge discredited our immature theology, and our world immeasurably widened, the very human God of our first imaginations was lost among the stars. We learned that this is a universe where the light that falls upon our eyes tonight left the far heavens when Abraham was shepherding on Syrian hills. The Christian Gospel of the personal Father which once was good news became a serious problem. We still may cling to the old meanings of our religious faith; still we may pray in hours of need as though our childhood's God were really there; but at times we suspect that we are clinging to the beauty of an early memory while reluctantly we lose conviction of its truth. Many modern men and women can understand the plight of the famous Dr. Jowett of Oxford, who, so runs the tradition, inserted "used to" in a muffled voice, when he recited the creed: "I _used to_ believe in God the Father Almighty." With such misgivings, whether as habitual disturbers of our faith or as occasional moods of unbelief that come and go, most of us must be familiar. What Charles Darwin is reported to have said about himself, many if they spoke frankly would say too: "Sometimes I feel a warm sense of a personal God, and then"--with a shake of his head--"it goes away." III Whatever may be our theology, the fact is plain that the denial of a personal God solves no problem. For if we may not think of God in terms of personality, the query still remains, which was there before--_in what terms shall we conceive of the Eternal_? In a discussion on the nature of the sky, one boy, denying the idea of a solid canopy, exclaimed, "There ain't any sky." Said the other, seeing how little this negation solved the problem, "Well, what _is_ it that ain't?" Some such inquiry one must put to his doubts about God's personality. Though we may deny a personal God, nevertheless in the place where he once stood, creator and sustainer of all existence, is Something that we do think of somehow. We may have but little of Carlyle's sublime imagination; may not easily transport ourselves to stand with him on the far northern cliff, "behind him all Europe and Africa fast asleep, except the watchmen, and before him the silent Immensity and Palace of the Eternal, whereof our sun is but the porch-lamp." Yet who of us, regarding the illimitable universe, on the far outskirts of which our little earth is whirling, so minute that through the strongest telescope from the nearest star its conflagration would be quite invisible, has escaped the sense of a Universal Power? And the human mind cannot so keep itself at home in little tasks and pleasures as to evade the question: How shall we think of the Power that made the universe? In what terms? By what analogies? Hours of revelation come in every serious life when no desire compares in urgency with the desire to know the character of the Eternal. It does make a prodigious difference what hands hold the leash of the universe. This second fact is also clear, that if we are to think of the Eternal at all, we must think in terms of something drawn from our experience. When we sing of Paradise we speak of golden streets and gates of pearl, and Thoreau remarks that, arriving in heaven, he expects to find pine trees there. Such words we do not take literally, but such words we cannot utterly avoid, for if we are to speak at all of the unknown glory, we must use pictures from the known. So we think of God in human symbols. We cannot catch him in an abstract definition as though a boy with a butterfly net should capture the sun at noon. Our minds are not fitted for such enterprise. Of necessity we take something homely, familiar, close at hand, and lifting it up as far as we can reach, say _God is most like that_. No one who thinks at all of the Eternal escapes this necessity. By this method the _materialist_ reaches his philosophy. Haeckel laughs to scorn the opening clause of the "Apostles' Creed." "I believe in God the Father Almighty, maker of heaven and earth"--for such faith no words are contemptuous enough. This denial does not mean however that Haeckel has no faith; he deliberately offers a creedal substitute which runs in part: I believe in a "chemical substance of a viscous character, having albuminous matter and water as its chief constituents." In such terms does Haeckel think of the Eternal. A professor of medicine has remarked that such a theory reduces all reality to "phosphorus and glue." When some Psalmist cries, "Bless the Lord, O my soul," nothing substantial is speaking or is being spoken to save phosphorus and glue! When an Italian patriot cries, "The time for dying comes to all, but the time for dishonoring oneself ought never to come," nothing is real and causal save phosphorus and glue! And every gracious and redeeming deed in history from the love of mothers to the cross of Christ has been a complicated working out of phosphorus and glue! In whatever labored phrases he may state his case, the materialist's method there is obvious; he has taken physical energy, of whose presence in his own body he is first assured, and whose reality he has then read out into the world, and this homely and familiar experience he has lifted up as far as he can reach to say, the Eternal is most like that. So far as method is concerned, the _theist_ of necessity travels the same road; only he insists on a nobler symbol than physical energy in terms of which to think of God. He takes _mind_. He says in effect: There may be wide stretches of the universe where our intellects meet no answer and find no meaning. But in much of the universe we do see meaning; and how can intelligence find sense where intelligence has not put sense? A few scratches on a cliff's face in Assyria, after centuries of neglect, rendered up their meaning to the mind of Rawlinson. They were themselves the work of intelligence, and intelligence could read them. So, the theist continues, the universe is in part at least intelligible. Our minds fit into it and are answered by it. We can trace its laws and predict its movements. Man first worked out the nature of the ellipse in theoretical geometry, and then telescopes later showed the gigantic ellipses of planetary orbits in the heavens. Can it be that this intelligible world, readable by mind, is itself essentially mindless? As easily believe that the notes of Wagner's operas were accidentally blown together by a whirlwind and yet are playable by man! Therefore the theist believes the universe to be rational; he takes mind as he has known it in himself, and lifting it as high as he can reach, cries, God is most like that. So far as the general method of approach is concerned, the Christian travels the same road to his idea of God. Only he cannot believe that the best he knows is too good or too great to be a symbol in terms of which to think of the Eternal. Therefore he will not take a byproduct of experience such as physical energy, nor a section of personality such as mind; he takes the full orb of personality, _self-conscious being that knows and purposes and loves_, and he affirms that God is most like this. Such in its simplest form is the Christian assertion of God's personality. In one of his noblest passages Martineau has put into classic form this necessity, which we have been discussing, of thinking about God in terms of human experience: "God, being infinite, can never be fully comprehended by our minds; whatever thought of him be there, his real nature must still transcend: there will yet be deep after deep beyond, within that light ineffable; and what we see, compared with what we do not see, will be as the raindrop to the firmament. Our conception of him can never _correspond with the reality_, so as to be without omission, disproportion, or aberration; but can only _represent the reality_, and _stand for God_ within our souls, till nobler thoughts arise and reveal themselves as his interpreters. And this is precisely what we mean by a symbolical idea. The devotee who prostrates himself before a black stone,--the Egyptian who in his prayers was haunted by the ideal form of the graceful ibis or the monstrous sphinx--the Theist who bends beneath the starry porch that midnight opens to the temple of the universe--the Christian who sees in heaven a spirit akin to that which divinely lived in Galilee, and with glorious pity died on Calvary--all alike assume a representation of him whose immeasurable nature they can neither compass nor escape. And the only question is, whether the conception they portray upon the wall of their ideal temple is an abominable idol, or a true and sanctifying mediatorial thought." IV In their endeavor thus to think of God in terms of personality, some are perplexed because in their imagination a person is inseparable from flesh. "I think of God as a personal being," writes a college student. "A personal being would have a form that you could see or touch." But this would be true only if the grossest materialism were accepted, and the spiritual life declared to be the product of brain as digestive fluids are of salivary glands. On any other basis, personality is not indissolubly bound to body nor by it necessarily delimited. A man cannot hear without his ear, but he is not his ear; he cannot hear without the auditory nerve, but he is not the auditory nerve; he cannot hear without the temporal lobe of the brain, but he is not the brain nor any portion of it. These may be the instruments which he uses; he is free when they are well, hampered when they are broken, and at last he is separable from them all. John Quincy Adams at the age of eighty met a friend upon a Boston street. "Good morning," said the friend, "and how is John Quincy Adams today?" "Thank you," was the ex-president's reply, "John Quincy Adams himself is well, quite well, I thank you. But the house in which he lives at present is becoming dilapidated. It is tottering upon its foundation. Time and the seasons have nearly destroyed it. Its roof is pretty well worn out. Its walls are much shattered and it trembles with every wind. The old tenement is becoming almost uninhabitable and I think John Quincy Adams will have to move out of it soon. But he himself is quite well, quite well." Such a conception of man as _being_ a permanent personality and _having_ a temporary body is essential to any worthy meaning when we use personal terms about God. With such an elevated thought, however, of what personality does mean, it soon is evident that no other reality with which we deal is so worthy to be the symbol of an Eternal Spirit. Is one perplexed that God, who is invisible, should be pictured in the similitude of human persons? But _we_ are invisible. The outward husks and fleshly garment of our friends we indeed have seen, but upon the friend himself--consciousness, love, purpose, ideal, and character--no eye has looked. No mirror ever has been strong enough to show us to ourselves. In every homely conversation this ineffable miracle is wrought: out of the unseen where I dwell, I signal by word and gesture to you back in the unseen where you dwell. We are inhabitants now of the intangible and unseen world; we are as invisible as God. Indeed, personality is essentially the most unlimited reality with which we deal; in comparison a solar system is a little thing. Consider _memory_, by which we can retrace our youthful days, build our shanties once again at brooksides, replay our games, and recapitulate the struggles and the joys of the first days at school. Nothing in all the universe can remember except persons. Were we not so familiar with this element in human greatness, we would more often pause to exclaim, as did Augustine, fifteen centuries ago, "Great is the power of memory. Amazement overcomes me when I think of it. And yet men go abroad to gaze upon the mountains, the broad rivers, the wide ocean, the courses of the stars, and pass themselves, the crowning wonder, by!" Consider _imagination_, by which, sitting still in body we can project ourselves around the world, can walk down Princes Street in Edinburgh, or stand in mingled awe and condemnation before the tomb of Napoleon in Paris, or rise uncovered before the majesty of the Matterhorn. Nothing in all the universe can do that except persons. Were full power to act wherever we can _think_ added to our gifts, we should come so near to incipient omnipresence as to be in dread of our responsibility. Consider _love_, by which we live not so much where our bodies are as where our friends and family may be. Love expands the individual until his real life is independent of geography. Says one lover to another: "The widest land Doom takes to part us, leaves thy heart in mine With pulses that beat double." Many a mother in America has _lived_ in the trenches of France; many a man has found that what might happen to him where his body was could not be compared with what might happen to him where his friendships were; and as we grow in love and loyalty we find ourselves scattered all over creation. How far such an expansion of life may go our Lord revealed when he said, "Inasmuch as ye did it unto one of these, my brethren, even these least, ye did it unto me." (Matt. 25:40.) Nothing in heaven above or on the earth beneath can so extend itself in love save persons. Finally, consider _creative power_ by which human beings project themselves into the future, and, with masterful ideals in mind, lay hold on circumstance and bend it to their will. As if he shared creative power with the Eternal, an engineer summons nature's forces to his bidding and lays his will upon them, until where nothing was a structure stands that mankind may use for centuries. Nothing in all the universe can so create except persons. In that essentially creative act where deathless ideas and harmonies are given being by poets and musicians, so that something out of nothing is brought to pass by personality, man faces a mystery as abysmal as God's making of the world. "Paradise Lost" is wonderful; but not half as wonderful as the creative personality itself who years before projected it. "An inward prompting," Milton says, "which now grew daily upon me, that by labor and intense study, joined with the strong propensity of nature, I might perhaps leave something so written to after times as they should not willingly let it die." Nothing can so create save personality. Personality is not so limited that we should be ashamed to think of God in terms of it. Rather, of all realities with which we deal, personality alone, invisible, reaching back in memory, reaching out in imagination, expanding itself in love, and laying hold upon the future with creative power, is a worthy symbol of the Eternal Spirit. Even when the meaning of personality has been so enlarged and elevated, we should not leave our statement of belief in God as though our experience of personality were a mould into which our thought of him is poured and so delimited. We are not presumptuous Lilliputians, running out with verbal stakes and threads, to pin down the tall, majestic Gulliver of the Eternal and dance in theological exultation round our capture. We know better than that. We understand how insufficient is every human name for God. We know that when we have said our best--"How unsearchable are his judgments and his ways past tracing out!" (Rom. 11:33). Nothing more has marred the Christian message and discredited the Christian faith than the unwise presumption that has forced its definitions into the secrets of the Infinite. "It is enough to say," exclaims Leslie Stephen, "that they defined the nature of God Almighty with an accuracy from which modest naturalists would shrink in describing the genesis of a black beetle." The antidote to such vain pride of theology is found in the wholesome modesty of the Bible. There man enquires, "Canst thou by searching find out God? Canst thou find out the Almighty unto perfection? It is high as heaven; what canst thou do? Deeper than Sheol; what canst thou know?" (Job 11:7). There God replies: "As the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts" (Isa. 55:9). Scripture bears abundant testimony to the symbolic nature of our human terms for God. "Like as a father pitieth his children, so Jehovah pitieth them that fear him" (Psalm 103:13). "As one whom his mother comforteth, so will I comfort you" (Isa. 66:13). "I will betroth thee unto me" (Hos. 2:20). "Return, ... saith Jehovah, for I am a husband unto you" (Jer. 3:14). "The Lord spake unto Moses ... as a man speaketh unto his friend" (Ex. 33:11). Father, Mother, Bridegroom, Husband, Friend--these are symbols of God. Men, endeavoring to frame some worthy thought of the Eternal, lift up their best in phrases such as these, and in them enshrine their noblest concepts of the divine. They have no better, truer thing to say of God, no wiser way in which to say it. But when they think of the Eternal as he must be, and of their human words, infinitesimal in comparison, they know that all their best names for God are like small measures of water dipped from an immeasurable sea. For all that, so much of God as they can grasp and understand is the most important truth that mankind knows. Let even a tea-cup of water be taken to a laboratory and it will tell the truth about the sea; _that one tea-cup will reveal the quality of the whole ocean_. Yet it will not reveal all the truth about the ocean. When one considers the reach of the sea over the rim of the world; thinks of the depths that no eye can pierce, the distances that no mind can imagine; remembers the currents that sweep through the sea, the tides that rise there, and the storms that beat it to its nether wells, he dare not try to put _these_ into a tea-cup. So God sweeps out beyond the reach of human symbols. At once so true and so inadequate are all our words for him. So we might speak to one who incredulously looks upon our faith, but for one who whole-heartedly approaches God as Christianity suggests, no negative and cautionary word is adequate. The Christian method of conceiving God brings the most exhilarating thought of him that man has ever had. It says in brief: Take your _best_ and think of God as most truly symbolized in that. As to what our best is, not even the agnostics doubt. The physical universe belittles us on one side only; it makes a pigmy of the body. In our spirits we still tower above the physical; we are greater than the world we know. Our supreme good, the divinest reality with which we deal, is personality. Then lift that up, says Christianity; it is your best, and you dare not think of God in terms of less; you have Christ's example in arguing from the human best to the divine: "If ye, being evil, know how to give good gifts unto your children, _how much more_ ... your Father." (Matt. 7:11.) The Christian faith asserts that when a man thus thinks of God in terms of the best he knows he is on the road toward truth. How many billion spiritual miles he may have to travel to the end, no man can tell. Only he will never need to stop, retrace his steps, and start upon a lower path than personality, a road that lies beneath righteousness and love. The road leads on and up beyond our imagination, but it is the same road and not another. _God is personality plus, or else he alone is completely personal and we are but in embryo._ If God so is personal, then all the deep meanings of religious life and faith that the saints, our spiritual sires, have known are open to us modern men and women. Forms of thought indeed have changed, but if God is thus our Father and our Friend, the essentials of Christian experience are waiting for us all. Life then is not purposeless; all creation is bound into spiritual unity by personal Will; and in sacrificial labor we are serving one who is able to guard that which we "have committed unto him against that day" (II Tim. 1:12). Old hymns of confidence in time of trial, we too can sing: "Still will we trust, though earth seem dark and dreary, And the heart faint beneath His chastening rod; Though steep and hard our pathway, worn and weary, Still will we trust in God." And we can pray, not indeed with clamorous beggary as though the grace of God were a wayside stall where every greedy hand can pluck what passing whim may wish, but we can commune with God as the real saints have always prayed with humility and gratitude and confident desire for good. Most of all, that priceless privilege is open to us which is the center and sun of Christian thought and life. For if among all realities in our experience, we have dared take the best, personality, as a symbol in terms of which to think of God, how should we not, among all personalities, take the best we know as the highroad of approach to him. Therefore our real symbol of God shall be no man among us, frail and sinful, but our Lord himself "fairest among ten thousand"--"the one altogether beautiful." We shall think of God in terms of him. We shall see "the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ" (II Cor. 4:6.) [2] Copyright, 1914, Charles Scribner's Sons. Used by permission. [3] From a questionnaire, "Belief in God and Immortality," by Prof. James H. Leuba. CHAPTER IV Belief and Trust DAILY READINGS We have tried to explain our faith in the personal God, and to see the transfiguring influence of that faith on life. But is belief in God always such a blessing as we have pictured? Rather faith, like every other experience of man, has its caricatures and burlesques. Many men are prevented from appreciation of faith in God, with its inestimable blessings, because they have so continually seen faith's perversions. The fact is that belief in God may be an utterly negligible matter in a man's experience or may even become a positively pernicious influence. Let us, in the daily readings, consider some of the _familiar travesties on faith_. Fourth Week, First Day =Praise ye Jehovah. Praise Jehovah, O my soul. While I live will I praise Jehovah: I will sing praises unto my God while I have any being, Put not your trust in princes, Nor in the son of man, in whom there is no help. His breath goeth forth, he returneth to his earth; In that very day his thoughts perish. Happy is he that hath the God of Jacob for his help, Whose hope is in Jehovah his God.= =--Psalm 146:1-5.= No one can mistake the note of reality in this psalmist's experience of God. But every one of us knows people who, if asked whether they believed in God, would readily assent, yet to whom faith makes no such difference in life as this psalm expresses. Their faith is nothing but an opinion about God, lightly held, a formal consent that what church or family tradition says must be correct. They have what Luther used to call "the charcoal burner's faith." A man of that occupation, when asked what he believed, said, "What Holy Church believes"; but, questioned further, he could not tell what it was that Holy Church did believe. So formal, vitally unpossessed, and practically unreal is much of our religious opinion that passes for faith. Dean Swift was a churchman of high rank, and yet his biographer is compelled to say of him: "He clung to the doctrines of his church, not because he could give abstract reasons for his belief, but simply because the church happened to be his." Vital religious faith is a very different thing from such dry conventionality. A man may assent to the contents of a college catalogue and yet never have experience of college life; he may agree that a menu is dietetically correct and yet never grow strong from the food; and he may believe in every creed in Christendom and not know what faith in God really means. Opinions about God are a roadway to God, but the end of the journey is a personal fellowship that transfigures life; and to seize opinions as though they were the object of faith is, to use Tagore's figure, "like a man who tries to reach his destination by firmly clutching the dust of the road." _O Thou great Father of us all, we rejoice that at last we know Thee. All our soul within us is glad because we need no longer cringe before Thee as slaves of holy fear, seeking to appease Thine anger by sacrifice and self-inflicted pain, but may come like little children, trustful and happy, to the God of love. Thou art the only true Father, and all the tender beauty of our human loves is the reflected radiance of Thy loving kindness, like the moonlight from the sunlight, and testifies to the eternal passion that kindled it._ _Grant us growth of spiritual vision, that with the passing years we may enter into the fulness of this our faith. Since Thou art our Father, may we not hide our sins from Thee, but overcome them by the stern comfort of Thy presence. By this knowledge uphold us in our sorrows and make us patient even amid the unsolved mysteries of the years. Reveal to us the larger goodness and love that speak through the unbending laws of Thy world. Through this faith make us the willing equals of all Thy other children._ _As Thou art ever pouring out Thy life in sacrificial father-love, may we accept the eternal law of the cross and give ourselves to Thee and to all men. We praise Thee for Jesus Christ, whose life has revealed to us this faith and law, and we rejoice that he has become the first-born among many brethren. Grant that in us, too, the faith in Thy fatherhood may shine through all our life with such persuasive beauty that some who still creep in the dusk of fear may stand erect as free sons of God, and that others who now through unbelief are living as orphans in an empty world may stretch out their hands to the great Father of their spirits and find Thee near. Amen._--Walter Rauschenbusch. Fourth Week, Second Day Faith is travestied in many lives not so much by the substitution of opinion for experience, as by making religion consist in certain devout practices, such as church-going. Ceremonialism, instead of being an aid in making God real, takes the place of fellowship with God. How scathing were the attacks of the prophets on this distortion of religion! =Hear the word of Jehovah, ye rulers of Sodom; give ear unto the law of our God, ye people of Gomorrah. What unto me is the multitude of your sacrifices? saith Jehovah: I have had enough of the burnt-offerings of rams, and the fat of fed beasts; and I delight not in the blood of bullocks, or of lambs, or of he-goats. When ye come to appear before me, who hath required this at your hand, to trample my courts? Bring no more vain oblations; incense is an abomination unto me; new moon and sabbath, the calling of assemblies--I cannot away with iniquity and the solemn meeting. Your new moons and your appointed feasts my soul hateth; they are a trouble unto me; I am weary of bearing them. And when ye spread forth your hands, I will hide mine eyes from you; yea, when ye make many prayers, I will not hear: your hands are full of blood. Wash you, make you clean; put away the evil of your doings from before mine eyes; cease to do evil; learn to do well; seek justice, relieve the oppressed, judge the fatherless, plead for the widow.--Isa. 1:10-17.= Many young people, watching conventional observances in religious worship and perceiving no real life active there, come to the conclusion that religious faith is a decent and negligible formality. So William Scott Palmer, tracing his progress from agnosticism to Christianity, describes the religion of his boyhood: "Religion as a personal matter, religion as a life, did not exist for me or for my family. The border-land of my native village went to church at eleven o'clock on fine Sundays, and I went in and with it. There were unlucky Sundays when the Litany was said, and the service prolonged by its unmeaning length; the lucky Sundays were wet ones that cleared up later.... I did not know that there was any vital meaning in religion." And even Sir Wilfred Grenfell, whose work in Labrador is one of this generation's outstanding triumphs of Christian faith, says of his young manhood: "The ordinary exponents of the Christian faith had never succeeded in interesting me in any way, or even in making me believe that they were more than professionally concerned themselves. Religion appeared to be a profession, exceedingly conventional, and most unattractive in my estimation--the very last I should have thought of selecting." No travesty on faith is more deadly in its effects than this substitution of conventional observance for life. _O Jesus, we thy ministers bow before Thee to confess the common sins of our calling. Thou knowest all things; Thou knowest that we love Thee and that our hearts' desire is to serve Thee in faithfulness; and yet, like Peter, we have so often failed Thee in the hour of Thy need. If ever we have loved our own leadership and power when we sought to lead our people to Thee, we pray Thee to forgive. If we have been engrossed in narrow duties and little questions, when the vast needs of humanity called aloud for prophetic vision and apostolic sympathy, we pray Thee to forgive. If in our loyalty to the Church of the past we have distrusted Thy living voice and have suffered Thee to pass from our door unheard, we pray Thee to forgive. If ever we have been more concerned for the strong and the rich than for the shepherdless throngs of the people for whom Thy soul grieved, we pray Thee to forgive._ _O Master, amidst our failures we cast ourselves upon Thee in humility and contrition. We need new light and a new message. We need the ancient spirit of prophecy and the leaping fire and joy of a new conviction, and Thou alone canst give it. Inspire the ministry of Thy Church with dauntless courage to face the vast needs of the future. Free us from all entanglements that have hushed our voice and bound our action. Grant us grace to look upon the veiled sins of the rich and the coarse vices of the poor through Thine eyes. Give us Thine inflexible sternness against sin, and Thine inexhaustible compassion for the frailty and tragedy of those who do the sin. Make us faithful shepherds of Thy flock, true seers of God, and true followers of Jesus. Amen._--Walter Rauschenbusch. Fourth Week, Third Day =And he spake also this parable unto certain who trusted in themselves that they were righteous, and set all others at nought: Two men went up into the temple to pray; the one a Pharisee, and the other a publican. The Pharisee stood and prayed thus with himself, God, I thank thee, that I am not as the rest of men, extortioners, unjust, adulterers, or even as this publican. I fast twice in the week; I give tithes of all that I get. But the publican, standing afar off, would not lift up so much as his eyes unto heaven, but smote his breast, saying, God, be thou merciful to me a sinner. I say unto you, This man went down to his house justified rather than the other: for every one that exalteth himself shall be humbled; but he that humbleth himself shall be exalted.--Luke 18:9-14.= The men against whom the Master directed this parable were bigots. Self-opinionated, self-conceited, dogmatic, and contemptuous--they wore all the attributes of bigotry. _And bigotry is a very familiar perversion of faith._ Vital fellowship with God ought to make men gracious, magnanimous, generous; it ought to make life with God seem so incomparably important that when anyone has that, his opinions about God will be tolerantly regarded, however mistaken they may appear to be. Dr. Pritchett, when President of the Massachusetts Institute of Technology, passed through a classroom where a young instructor was conducting a chemical experiment. "The reaction itself," says Dr. Pritchett, "was going on in a retort on the table, while on a blackboard was written the conventional formula, which in the science of chemistry is used to describe the reaction. It so happened that the instructor had made a mistake in writing the formula; instead of CO^2 he had written CO_3. But this made not the slightest difference in the reaction which was going on in the flask." So, a man may live his life with an admirably Christian spirit, although he describes it with a mistaken formula. His error is theoretical, not vital. But a bigot is so sure that he alone knows the true formula, that a man without that formula is altogether wrong, and that he must either set him right or condemn him utterly, that he grows bitter, hard, unlovely. His opinions may be right, but his spirit is wrong. The faith that should make his life radiant is perverted to make it narrow, harsh, contemptuous. He renders hateful the very faith he seeks to commend and ruins the reputation of the God whom he is zealous to exalt. So the Pharisee of the parable missed all the beauty of the Publican's life because he thought the Publican's formula was wrong. No one can estimate the irreparable damage which zealous bigots have done to true faith. _O Thou who art of purer eyes than to behold iniquity, canst Thou bear to look on us conscious of our great transgression? Yet hide not Thy face from us, for in Thy light alone shall we see light._ _Forgive us for the sins which crowd into the mind as we realise Thy presence; our ungovernable tempers, our shuffling insincerities, the craven fear of our hearts, the pettiness of our spirits, the foul lusts and fatal leanings of our souls. Not for pardon only, but for cleansing, Lord, we pray._ _Forgive us, we beseech Thee, our unconscious sins; things which must be awful to Thy sight, of which we yet know nothing. Forgive by giving us in fuller measure the awakening of Thy presence, that we may know ourselves, and lose all love of sin in the knowledge of what Thou art._ _Forgive us for the things for which we can never forgive ourselves; those sad turned pages of our life which some chance wind of memory blows back again with shame; for the moment of cruel passion, the hour beyond recall, the word that went forth to poison and defame, the carelessness that lost our opportunity, the unheeded fading of bright ideals._ _Forgive us for the things that others can never forgive; the idle tale, the cruel wrong, the uncharitable condemnation, the unfair judgment, the careless criticism, the irresponsible conduct._ _Forgive us for the sins of our holy things; that we have turned the sacred page without a sigh, read the confessions of holy men and women and never joined therein, lived in Thy light and never prayed to be forgiven or rendered Thee thanksgiving; professed to believe in Thee and love Thee, yet dared to injure and hate._ _Naught save being born again, nothing but a miracle of grace, can ever be to us forgiveness. Cleanse our hearts, renew our minds, and take not Thy Holy Spirit from us. Amen._--W. E. Orchard. Fourth Week, Fourth Day Of all perversions of faith none is more fatal than the substitution of opinions about God for integrity of character and usefulness of life. With what scathing vehemence does James, as Dr. Moffatt renders him, attack this travesty on faith. ="My brothers, what is the use of anyone declaring he has faith, if he has no deeds to show? Can his faith save him? Suppose some brother or sister is ill-clad and short of daily food; if any of you says to them, 'Depart in peace! Get warm, get food,' without supplying their bodily needs, what use is that? So faith, unless it has deeds, is dead in itself. Someone will object, 'And you claim to have faith!' Yes, and I claim to have deeds as well; you show me your faith without any deeds, and I will show you by my deeds what faith is! You believe in one God? Well and good. So do the devils, and they shudder. But will you understand, you senseless fellow, that faith without deeds is dead? When our father Abraham offered his son Isaac on the altar, was he not justified by what he did?"--James 2:14-21.= An American business man not long dead, who hated any word from the pulpit about social righteousness, used to complain: "Preachers are talking so everlastingly about this earth. I've done my best to get them to stick to the Gospel, and not allow 'worldliness' to get into the teachings of the Church; but the good old preachers have gone to glory." Yet this pious zealot helped wreck the finances of a great railroad system, and with part of the proceeds built a theological seminary. _There was no vital, intelligent connection between his faith in God and his ideals of character and service._ One verse should be made to flame in Christian pulpits: "If any provideth not for his own, and specially his own household, he hath denied the faith and is worse than an unbeliever" (I Tim. 5:8). Domestic fidelity is here only typical of all basic moral obligations. What this verse says in principle is clear: theoretical unbelief is not the worst sin in God's sight; any man who fails in the fundamental duties of rectitude and service has thereby denied the faith and is worse than an atheist. _O thou holy One and just! if alone the pure in heart can see thee, truly we must stand afar off, and not so much as lift up our eyes unto heaven. Were it not that thou hast help and pity for the contrite spirit, we could only cry, "Depart from us, we are sinful men, O Lord!" For idle words, for proud thoughts and unloving deeds; for wasted moments and reluctant duties, and too eager rest; for the wandering desire, the vain fancy, the scornful doubt, the untrustful care; for impatient murmurs, and unruly passions, and the hardness of a worldly heart; thou, Lord, canst call us unto judgment, and we have naught to answer thee. But, O thou Judge of men, thou art witness that we do not love our guilty ways; make our conscience true and tender that we may duly hate them, and refuse them any peace as enemies to thee. Stir up within us a great and effectual repentance that we may redeem the time which we have lost, and in the hours that remain may do the work of many days. Thou knowest all our secret snares; drive from us every root of bitterness: with thy severity pluck out, O Lord, the thorns of sin from our entangled souls, and bind them as a crown of contrition around our bleeding brows; and having made our peace with thee may we henceforth watch and pray that we enter not again into temptation, but bear our cross with patience to the close. Amen._--James Martineau. Fourth Week, Fifth Day Some of the most lamentable perversions of religious faith arise from inadequate ideas of God. Consider, for example, the way Manasseh thought that the Divine ought to be worshiped. =For he built again the high places which Hezekiah his father had destroyed; and he reared up altars for Baal, and made an Asherah, as did Ahab king of Israel, and worshipped all the host of heaven, and served them. And he built altars in the house of Jehovah, whereof Jehovah said, In Jerusalem will I put my name. And he built altars for all the host of heaven in the two courts of the house of Jehovah. And he made his son to pass through the fire, and practised augury, and used enchantments, and dealt with them that had familiar spirits, and with wizards: he wrought much evil in the sight of Jehovah, to provoke him to anger.--II Kings 21:3-6.= Then compare the thought of the Master on the same subject. =But the hour cometh, and now is, when the true worshippers shall worship the Father in spirit and truth: for such doth the Father seek to be his worshippers. God is a Spirit: and they that worship him must worship in spirit and truth.--John 4:23, 24.= There is no reason to suppose that Manasseh was insincere; he is one of an innumerable company in whom the religious motive has been harnessed to warped and ignorant ideas of God. Religious faith, like any other tremendous power, is terrific in evil consequences when it goes wrong. Men, under its subtle and prevailing influence, have waged bloody wars, worshiped with licentious rituals, carried on pitiless persecutions, and in bigotry, cruelty, and deceit have grown worse than they would have been with no religion whatsoever. And men, in its inspiring light, have launched missionary movements, founded great philanthropies, built schools, hospitals, orphanages, and in sacrifice, courageous service, and hope of human brotherhood have made man's history glorious. Religion needs intelligence to save it from becoming a ruinous curse; like all power of the first magnitude it is a disaster if ignorantly used. Since religious faith will always be a major human motive, under what obligations are we to save it from perversion and to keep it clean and right! _Almighty God, our heavenly Father, we are most unworthy to be called Thy children; for when light and darkness have been set before us, we have often chosen darkness rather than light. Conscious that within us are the elements of a nobler and a meaner life, we have yet given way to the meaner appetites, and have not obeyed the inspiration Thou hast kindled within us. We entreat Thee now of Thy grace to call us back from the ways of temptation and sin into that higher life which Thou dost breathe upon us, and which is manifested in Jesus Christ our Lord. Give us the self-knowledge, the humility, the repentance, the aspiration which draw us to the Cross of Christ, that worshiping there in lowliness, we may see the weakness of falsehood and the strength of truth, the exceeding sinfulness of selfishness, and the beauty of love and sacrifice._ _O Thou whose secret is with them that fear Thee, inspire us with that loyalty of soul, that willingness to do Thy will to which all things are clear. Darkness, we know, cometh upon the proud and disobedient; confusion is ever attendant upon self-will; while to the humble, the earnest, and the pure-minded, the way of duty and spiritual health is made clear. O Spirit of the Eternal, subdue within us all pride, all vainglory, all self-seeking, and bring every thought and every desire into obedience to the law of Christ our Lord._ _Almighty Father, to Thee would we consecrate these earthly days from infancy to age. Thee would we remember in childhood and youth. Thee would we serve in all the relations and activities of middle age. Thee would we teach our children to love and serve. Be Thou our stay and hope when health and strength shall fail. And when we are summoned hence, do Thou, O Life of our life, illumine the mystery of the invisible world with Thy presence and love. We ask these blessings in the spirit of Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen._--John Hunter. Fourth Week, Sixth Day The perversions of religious faith, working pitiable instead of benevolent consequences, are often seen on mission fields. Consider Paul's address in Athens: =And Paul stood in the midst of the Areopagus, and said,= =Ye men of Athens, in all things I perceive that ye are very religious. For as I passed along, and observed the objects of your worship, I found also an altar with this inscription, TO AN UNKNOWN GOD. What therefore ye worship in ignorance, this I set forth unto you. The God that made the world and all things therein, he, being Lord of heaven and earth, dwelleth not in temples made with hands; neither is he served by men's hands, as though he needed anything, seeing he himself giveth to all life, and breath, and all things; and he made of one every nation of men to dwell on all the face of the earth, having determined their appointed seasons, and the bounds of their habitation; that they should seek God, if haply they might feel after him and find him, though he is not far from each one of us: for in him we live, and move, and have our being; as certain even of your own poets have said,= =For we are also his offspring.= =--Acts 17:22-28.= Paul did not need to plead for religion with the Athenians; they were already "very religious." Only religion was not doing for them what it ought; it was a power used "in ignorance"; and Paul, valuing all that was good there, quoting their own poets with appreciation, nevertheless longed to take their strong religious motives and so clarify and direct them that faith might mean unqualified benediction. Is not this always the right missionary method? The people of India are intensely religious; no tribe in Africa lacks its gods; and everywhere the faith-motive is immensely powerful. But often it makes mothers drown their babies in sacred rivers, it consecrates caste systems as holy things, it centers man's adoration around unworthy objects, its powers, gone wrong, are a curse and not a blessing. If in Jesus Christ religious faith has come to us, through no merit of our own, as an unspeakable benediction, ought we not, humbly, without dogmatism or intolerance, and yet with passionate earnestness, to share our best with all the world? Religious faith may either depress or lift a people's life; it is forever doing one or the other in every nation under heaven; and _there is no hope for the world until this master-motive is lifting everywhere_. _Almighty God, our Father in heaven, who hast so greatly loved the world that Thou hast given Thine only-begotten Son, the Redeemer, communicate Thy love to the hearts of all believers, and revive Thy Church to preach the Gospel to every creature._ _O Thou who rulest by Thy providence over land and sea, defend and guide and bless the messengers of Christ; in danger be their shield, in darkness be their hope; enrich their word and work with wisdom, joy, and power, and let them gather souls for Thee in far fields white unto the harvest._ _O Thou who by Thy Holy Spirit workest wonders in secret, open the eyes that dimly look for light to see the day-star in Christ; open the minds that seek the unknown God to know their Heavenly Father in Christ; open the hearts that hunger for righteousness to find eternal peace in Christ. Deliver the poor prisoners of ignorance and captives of idolatry, break down the bars of error, and dispel the shadows of the ancient night; lift up the gates, and let the King of glory and the Prince of Peace come in._ _Thy kingdom, O Christ, is an everlasting kingdom! Strengthen Thy servants to pray and labor and wait for its appearing; forgive our little faith and the weakness of our endeavor; hasten the day when all nations shall be at peace in Thee, and every land and every heart throughout the world shall bless the name of the Lord Jesus, to the glory of God the Father. Amen._--Henry van Dyke. Fourth Week, Seventh Day The sad perversions of religious faith are not a matter for foreign missions only. At home, too, we find people who seem to be rather worse than better because they are religious. Just as power in any other form may be abused, so may religious faith. Some in the name of religion become censorious and intolerant, some superstitious, some slaves to morbid fears; and ignorance, self-conceit, pride, and worldly ambition when driven and enforced by a religious motive are infinitely worse than they would have been without it. Toward this fact two attitudes are possible. One is to throw over religion on account of its abuses; which is as reasonable as to deny all the blessings of electricity because in ignorant hands it is a dangerous power. The other is to take religious faith more seriously than ever, to see how great a force for weal or woe it always is in human life, and to strive in ourselves and in others for a high, intelligent, and worthy understanding and use of it. For religion can mean what Amiel said of it: "There is but one thing needful--to possess God. Religion is not a method: it is a life--a higher and supernatural life, mystical in its root and practical in its fruits; a communion with God, a calm and deep enthusiasm, a love which radiates, a force which acts, a happiness which overflows." From our study of the perversions and travesties of faith, we turn therefore in the weekly comment to consider faith's vital meanings. So Paul, writing to the Galatians, rejoices in religion as a gloriously transforming power in life. =But I say, Walk by the Spirit, and ye shall not fulfil the lust of the flesh. For the flesh lusteth against the Spirit, and the Spirit against the flesh; for these are contrary the one to the other; that ye may not do the things that ye would. But if ye are led by the Spirit, ye are not under the law. Now the works of the flesh are manifest, which are these: fornication, uncleanness, lasciviousness, idolatry, sorcery, enmities, strife, jealousies, wraths, factions, divisions, parties, envyings, drunkenness, revellings, and such like; of which I forewarn you even as I did forewarn you, that they who practise such things shall not inherit the kingdom of God. But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, long-suffering, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, meekness, self-control; against such there is no law. And they that are of Christ Jesus have crucified the flesh with the passions and the lusts thereof.--Gal. 5:16-23.= _Thou, O God, hast exalted us so that no longer we walk with prone head among the animals that perish. Thou hast ordained us as Thine own children, and hast planted within us that spiritual life which ever seeks, as the flame, to rise upward and mingle with Thee. Every exaltation, every pure sentiment, all urgency of true affection, and all yearning after things higher and nobler, are testimonies of the divinity that is in us. These are the threads by which Thou art drawing us away from sense, away from the earth, away from things coarse and unspiritual, and toward the ineffable. We rejoice that we have in us the witness of the Spirit, the indwelling of God. For, although we are temples defiled, though we are unworthy of such a Guest, and though we perpetually grieve Thee, and drive Thee from us, so that Thou canst not do the mighty work that Thou wouldst within us, yet we rejoice to believe that Thou dost linger near us. Even upon the outside, Thou standest knocking at the door until Thy locks are wet with the night dews, and dost persuade us with the everlasting importunity of love, and draw us upward, whether with or without our own knowledge. Thou art evermore striving to imbue us with Thyself, and to give us that divine nature which shall triumph over time and sense and matter; and we pray that we may have an enlightened understanding of this Thy work in us and upon us, and work together with Thee. Amen._--Henry Ward Beecher. COMMENT FOR THE WEEK One might be tempted by the last chapter to suppose that, if he could accept the proposition that God is personal, he would be well upon his way toward Christianity. But in theory at least Plato accepted this proposition four hundred years before Christ, when he said: "God is never in any way unrighteous--He is perfect righteousness; and he of us who is most righteous is most like Him." He, too, used personality as a symbol of God. When, however, one compares Plato with Jesus, how incalculably greater is the religious meaning of our Lord! There is something more in the Master's experience and thought than the belief that God is personal. Evidently our quest must be followed further than the last chapter carried us. In Scripture two kinds of faith in the personal God are clearly indicated. On the one side stand verses such as this: "Thou believest that God is one; thou doest well; the demons also believe and shudder" (James 2:19). On the other, one finds through both the Testaments witness and appeal for a kind of faith that plainly differs from the first: "O my God, in thee have I trusted" (Psalm 25:2). It is not difficult to guess the terms in which many would describe this difference. In the first, so the familiar explanation runs, we are dealing with the _mind's_ faith in God; the man's intellect assents to the belief that God is and that He is one. In the second we are dealing with the _heart's_ faith in God; the whole man is here involved in an adoring trust that finds in reliance upon God life's stimulus and joy. This distinction between the faith of the intellect and of the heart is valid, but it does not go to the pith of the truth. When a professor in the class-room, discussing conflicting theories of life's origin, concludes that theism is the reasonable interpretation of the universe, the listener understands that the lecturer believes in God's existence. But if the professor could be followed home and overheard in a private prayer, like Fénelon's: "Lord, I know not what I ought to ask of Thee; Thou only knowest what I need; Thou lovest me better than I know how to love myself. O Father! give to Thy child that which he himself knows not how to ask," something incalculably more than the classroom talk disclosed would be revealed about the meaning of the teacher's faith. And as the classroom lecture and the private prayer stand so contrasted, the gist of the difference is plain. In the one, faith was directed toward a _theory_; in the other faith laid hold upon a _Person_. That the intellect was more involved in the first and the emotions in the second is incidental to the main matter, that _two differing objects were in view_. Toward these two objects we continually are exercising faith--_ideas and people, propositions and persons_. Now faith in a proposition we conveniently may call belief; and faith in a person, trust. We believe that gravitation and the conservation of energy universally apply, that democracy will prove better than absolutism, and that prison systems can be radically reformed; these and innumerable other propositions that cannot be demonstrated we confidently believe. But in quite another way we daily are exercising faith; _we have faith in our friends_. How profound a change comes over the quality and value of faith when it thus finds its objective in a person! Our beliefs in propositions are of basic import and without them we could not well exist, but it is by trust in persons that we live indeed. Belief in monogamy, for all its importance, is a cold abstraction, and few could be found to die for it. Men do not lay down their lives for abstract theories, any more than they would suffer martyrdom, as Chesterton remarked, for the Meridian of Greenwich. But when monogamy is translated from theory into personal experience, when belief in the idea becomes trust in a life-long comrade of whom one may sing: "What I do And what I dream include thee, as the wine Must taste of its own grapes," faith has taken a form for which men do live and die in glad surrender. Although the same word, faith, be applied to both, trust in persons reaches deeper than belief in propositions and supplies a warmth and power that belief cannot attain. In religion these two aspects of faith continually are found and both are indispensable. Trust in a person, for example, presupposes belief in his existence and fidelity. "He that cometh to God must believe that he is, and that he is a rewarder of them that seek after him" (Heb. 11:6). Trust cannot exist without belief, but when one seeks the inner glory of the religious life that has overflowed in prayer and hymn, supplied motive for service and power for character, he finds it not in belief, but in the vital relationships involved in trusting a Person. Men often have discussed their particular beliefs with cool deliberation, have stated them in formal creeds, have changed them with access of new knowledge and experience. But _trust_, the inner reliance of the soul on God and glad self-surrender to his will, has persisted through many changes, clothing itself with beliefs like garments and casting them aside when old. Trust has made rituals and churches and unmade them when they were ineffectual, it has been the life behind the theory, the experience behind the explanation; and its proper voice has been not creed and controversy, but psalm and song and sacrifice. Men have felt in describing this inward friendship that their best words were but the "vocal gestures of the dumb," able to indicate but unable to express their thoughts. _For while belief is theology, trust is religion._ II This central position of trust in the Christian life is evident when one considers that in its presence or absence lies the chief point of difference between a religious and an irreligious man. The peculiarity of religion is not that it has beliefs; everybody has them. As we have seen, Huxley, who called himself an agnostic, said that he thoroughly believed the universe to be rational, than which only a few greater ventures of faith can be imagined. A man may not want to have beliefs. He may say that knowledge is wool, warm to clothe oneself withal, that belief is cotton, and that he will not mingle them. But for all that he still does have beliefs and he cannot help it. When, therefore, a Christian and an atheist converse they can match belief with belief. "I believe," says one, "in God the Father"; and "I believe," says the other, "in the eternal physical universe, without spiritual origin or moral purpose." Says the Christian, "I believe in the immortality of persons," and the atheist replies, "I believe that the spirit dies with the body as sound ceases when the bell's swinging iron grows still." Says the Christian, "I believe in the ultimate triumph of righteousness"; and the atheist replies, "I believe that all man's aspiration after good is but the endless sailing of a ship that never shall arrive." So the two may play battledore and shuttlecock, but if, so having paired beliefs, they part with no more said, they have missed the real point of their difference. The irreligious man can match the Christian's belief with his own, but one thing he cannot match--the Christian's trust. _He has nothing that remotely corresponds with that._ The Christian always has this case to plead with an unbelieving man: Do not suppose that the difference between us is exhausted in a conflict of contrasting propositions. Great indeed is the divergence there! But the issue of all such difference lies in another realm. When you face life's abysmal mysteries that your eyes can no more pierce than mine, you have no one to trust. When misfortunes fall that send men to their graves, as Sydney Smith said, with souls scarred like a soldier's body, you have no one to trust. When you face the last mystery of all and whether going say farewell to those who stay, or staying bid farewell to those who go, you have no one to trust. You can match my belief with your belief, but for one thing you have no counterpart. "Jehovah is my shepherd, I shall not want" (Psalm 23:1). You cannot match that! "My heart hath trusted in him, and I am helped" (Psalm 28:7). You cannot match that! "Shall not the Judge of all the earth do right?" (Gen. 18:25); "We have our hope set on the living God" (I Tim. 4:10); "Father, into thy hands I commend my spirit" (Luke 23:46). That trust you cannot match! III In the light of this distinction between belief and trust some mistaken types of faith can be easily described. There, for example, is the _faith of formal creedalism_. We cannot have trust without some belief, but we may unhappily have belief without any trust. Now a man who believes the doctrines that underly the Christian life but who does not vitally trust the Person whom those doctrines present, has missed the heart out of faith's meaning. He is like one who cherishes a letter of introduction to a great personality, but has never used it; he has the formal credentials, but not the transforming experience. It follows that we cannot estimate a man merely by knowing his beliefs. I believe in all the Christian truths, says one; and the curious question rises, how did these beliefs of his come into his possession? They may have been handed to him by his forbears like a set of family jewels, a static and external heritage, which now he keeps in some ecclesiastical safe-deposit vault and on state days, at Christmas or at Easter, goes to see. Still he may claim that they are his beliefs; he may even quarrel about their genuineness, not because he ever uses them but because they are his. He may repeat the creed with the same unquestioning assent that he gives to the conventional cut of his clothes. His beliefs are not the natural utterance and explanation of his inner life with God and man, but are put on as they were handed to him, like the fashions of his coats. So easy is it to be formally orthodox! Over against such conventional believers one thinks of other folk whom he has known. They have no such stereotyped, clear-cut beliefs. They are very puzzled about life. It seems to them abysmally mysterious. And when they speak they talk with a modesty the formal creedalist has never felt: My beliefs are most uncertain. Confused by many voices shouting conflicting opinions about truths which I once accepted without thinking, I cannot easily define my thoughts. But I do trust God. That assent of the mind which I cannot give to propositions, I can give to him. Life is full of mystery, but I do not really think that the mystery is darkness at its heart. My faith has yet its standing ground in this, that the world's activities are not like the convulsions of an epileptic, unconscious and purposeless. There is a Mind behind the universe, and a good purpose in it. "Yet in the maddening maze of things, And tossed by storm and flood, To one fixed trust my spirit clings; I know that God is good." Say as one may that such an attitude is far from adequate, yet as compared with the merely formal acceptance of inherited opinions how incomparably superior its religious value is! The people of placid, stiff beliefs are not the successors of the real saints. When one reads George Matheson's books of devotion, for example, or sings his hymn "O Love, that wilt not let me go," or learns of his great work in his church in Edinburgh, one might suppose that he never had a doubt. Yet listen to his own confession: "At one time with a great thrill of horror, I found myself an absolute atheist. After being ordained at Innellan, I believed nothing; neither God nor immortality. I tendered my resignation to the Presbytery, but to their honor they would not accept it, even though an Highland Presbytery. They said I was a young man and would change. I have changed." One need only read such books of his as "Can the Old Faith Live with the New?" to see through what a searching discipline of strenuous thought he passed in the regaining of his faith. But if one would know what held his religious life secure while he was working out his beliefs from confusion to clarity, one must turn to Matheson's poem: "Couldst thou love _Me_ When creeds are breaking-- Old landmarks shaking With wind and sea? Couldst thou refrain the earth from quaking And rest thy heart on _Me_?" Many a man has been held fast by his trust in God while in perplexity he thought out his beliefs about God. Indeed, within the Scripture, whatever word is used to describe the attitude of faith, this vital personal alliance with God is everywhere intended. For convenience we have called faith in propositions belief, but that does not mean that when the Scriptures use "believe" they are urging the acceptance of propositions. Not often in the Bible are we invited merely to agree with an opinion; we are everywhere called to trust a Person. "Trust in the Lord" in the Old Testament, "Believe in the Lord Jesus Christ" in the New, are neither of them the proclamation of a theory, but the exaltation of a personality. Wherever in Scripture doctrines are insisted on--the unity of God, the deathlessness of the spirit, the divinity of Christ--they are never doctrines for their own sakes; _they are either commendatory truths about a Friend, that we may not fail to trust him, or they are ideas about life that have come to men because they did trust him_. _Trust in a Person is either the source or the goal of every Christian doctrine._ The Gospel at its center is not a series of propositions, but a concrete, personal relationship opened between the soul and the Divine, out of which new powers, joys, possibilities flow gloriously into human life. When out of this experience of divine fellowship Paul, for example, speaks of faith he means by it the alliance that binds him to his friend. He fairly sings of the peace that comes from such believing (Rom. 15:13), of the love that is its motive power and chief expression (Gal. 5:6), and of "the sacrifice and service" which are its issue (Phil. 2:17). He enthusiastically commends to everyone this divine alliance through which moral defeat is changed to victory in the "righteousness which is of God by faith" (Phil. 3:9); and his prose slips over into poetry when he describes his new transfigured life as "access by faith into that grace wherein we stand" (Rom. 5:2). Plainly he is not talking here about a set of propositions; he is rejoicing in a transforming personal relationship. Some faith is nothing but an inherited set of opinions and it gives a cold light like an incandescent bulb; some faith, like sunshine, is brighter for seeing than any incandescence can ever be, but warm too, so that under its persuasive touch new worlds of life spring into being. The faith of the New Testament and of the real saints is not the cold brilliance of a creed in whose presence one can freeze even while he sees; it is the warm, life-giving sunshine of a trust in God that makes all gracious things grow, and puts peace and joy, hope and love into life. Belief in propositions is there, but the crown and glory of it are trust in a Person. IV In the light of this distinction between belief and trust, the inadequacy of another type of faith can easily be understood. Many would protest that they have not accepted their beliefs as an external heritage from the past, but rather have thought them through, and hold them now as _reasonable theories to explain the facts of the spiritual life_. They would say that as a geologist observes the rocks and constructs an hypothesis to account for their origin and nature, so the mind, observing man's contacts with invisible powers, constructs religious beliefs as explanations of experience. They would insist that their theology is not merely traditional, but in large degree is independently appropriated and original. They hold it as an hypothesis to make intelligible man's experiences of the spiritual world. There is significant truth in this view of faith. Man's ideals, his loves, hopes, aspirations, his unescapable sense of moral obligation, his consciousness of Someone other than himself, are facts, as solidly present in experience as stars and mountains. To explain these facts by theology is as rational as to explain the stars by astronomy. Every believer in religious truth should welcome this confirming word from Dr. Pritchett, written when he was President of the Massachusetts Institute of Technology: "Science is grounded in faith just as is religion, and scientific truth, like religious truth, consists of hypotheses, never wholly verified, that fit the facts more or less closely." But when one turns from such a statement to inquire what faith has actually meant to religious men, he does not find that their experience could easily be defined as belief in an hypothesis. The prophets, standing their ground through national disaster, undiscourageable in their conviction of God's good purpose for His people, would have been surprised to hear their faith so described. When the Sons of Thunder were swept out into a new life by the influence of Jesus, or the seer of Patmos was ravished with visions of eternal victory, or Paul was made conqueror in a fight for character that had been his despair, they would hardly have spoken of their experiences as belief in an hypothesis. Real religion has always meant something more vital than holding a theory about life. When Robert Louis Stevenson says of his transformation of character, "I came about like a well-handled ship. There stood at the wheel that unknown steersman whom we call God"; when Tolstoi cries: "To know God and to live are one and the same thing"; when Professor William James, of Harvard, writes of his consciousness of God, "It is most indefinite to be sure and rather faint, and yet I know that if it should cease, there would be a great hush, a great void in my life"; one sees what conversion of character, what increase of life's value, what spiritual reenforcement religion has meant even to such unconventional believers. When they speak of it, they are evidently thinking of a vital power and not a theory. The most obscure Christian to whom religion has become a necessity in living, knows how far short the plummet of hypothetical belief comes from reaching bottom. In sin, burdened by a sense of guilt that he could not shake off and unable to forgive himself, he has cried to be forgiven, and the Gospel that has been his hope was no injunction to hold hard by his hypothesis! In sorrow, when the blows have fallen that either hallow or embitter life, he has sought for necessary fortitude, and the Gospel which established him certainly was not, Cast thy care on thine hypothesis! And when, more than conqueror, he faces death, his confidence and hope will rest on no such prayer as this, O Hypothesis, guide me! The word of religion is of another sort, "Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for _Thou_ art with me." Not belief in propositions, but trust in a Person has been the heart of the Gospel, and to make any hypothesis, however true, do duty as religion is to give the soul a stone when it asks for bread. The futility of seeking contentment in faith as an hypothesis alone is especially manifest in our time. This is an age of swiftly changing ideas in every realm. As in science, so in religion, today one theory holds the field to be displaced tomorrow by another. A man in theology, as much as in politics or psychology, goes to bed supposing he has settled his opinions, and wakes up to find a new array of evidence that disturbs his confidence. When, therefore, religious faith has meant no more to its possessor than theory, there is no security or rest. Each day the winds of opinion shift and veer, and minds at the beginning obstinate in their beliefs, at last, dismayed by the reiterated uncertainties of thought, give up their faith. Where, then, have the men of faith found the immovable center of their confidence? Paul revealed the secret. On the side of his particular opinions he frankly confessed his limited and uncertain knowledge. "Now we know in fragments," he wrote, "now we see through a glass darkly." "How unsearchable are his judgments and his ways past tracing out!" But on the side of his trust he is adamant: "I know _him_ whom I have believed." The certainty of his life was his relationship with a person, and his beliefs were the best he yet had thought in the explication and establishment of that trust. The great believers of the Church continually have exhibited this dual aspect of their faith. Even St. Augustine, facing the profound mysteries involved in his trinitarian belief, complains that human speech is pitiably futile in trying to explain what "Three persons" means, and that if he uses the familiar phrase, he does so not because he likes it, but because he may not be silent and knows no better thing to say. But when Augustine prays to the God whose nature is so unfathomable that no man can see it fully or express it adequately, he reveals no such uncertain thought: "Grant me, even me, my dearest Lord, to know Thee and love Thee and rejoice in Thee.... Let the love of Thee grow every day more and more here, that it may be perfect hereafter; that my joy may be great in itself and full in Thee. I know, O God, that thou art a God of truth; O make good Thy gracious promises to me!" So children do not fully understand an earthly father and often hold conceptions grotesquely insufficient to do justice to his life and work. But they may have for him well-founded trust. Even in the years of infancy an ennobling personal relationship begins, despite the inadequacy of their beliefs, and that trust yearly deepens while mental concepts shift and change with access of new knowledge. _The abiding core of a child's life with his father is not belief but trust._ Such has always been the secret of faith's stability in men who have entered into personal fellowship with God. Even of the first disciples it has been said--"They would have had difficulty sometimes to tell you _what_ they believed, but they could always have told you in _whom_ they believed." V The truth of which we have been speaking has pertinent bearing on the main object of our studies. We shall be considering the difficulties which Christians have with their beliefs, and the arguments which may clarify and establish our minds' confidence in God. But many problems in the realm of intellectual belief cannot be solved by any arguments which the mind devises. The trouble often lies not in our theories about the religious life, but in our religious life itself. _The deeper difficulty is not that our thinking is unreasonable, but that our experience is unreal._ To a man who never had seen the stars or felt the wonder of their distances, astronomy would be a lifeless topic and his endeavors to think about it a blundering and futile operation. Our theories about anything depend for their interest and worth upon the vividness with which we experience the thing itself and care to understand its meaning. This is true about matters like the stars; how much more true about the intimate affairs of man's own life! Democracy vs. autocracy is a crucial problem. But plenty of men are so careless about human weal, think so little of their country and the world as objects of solicitude and devotion, that to discuss in their presence democratic and autocratic theories of state is a waste of time. The trouble is not with their minds; they may be very clever and acute. The trouble is with their lives. They need to experience patriotism as a vital motive; they need to care immensely what happens to mankind. Only then will the problems of government grow vivid, and the need of a solution become so critical that thinking will be urgent and productive. We never think well about anything for which we do not care. Plenty of people today discuss theology as an academic pastime. It is a speculative game at which they play, as they do at golf, for its fun and lure. They do not really care about God; they feel no crucial need of him. Of little use is all their ingenuity in argument, clever and astute though it may be. Blind men might so discuss the color scheme of an Italian landscape and deaf men debate the harmonies of Handel's oratorios. What is lacking is experience. For our theories are only the explanations of experience, and an emptier game cannot be played than debating explanations of experiences which we have not had. Everyone in difficulty with his faith should give due weight to this important truth. Our intellectual troubles are not all caused by the bankruptcy of our spiritual lives, but many of them are. Men live with drained and unreplenished spirits, from which communion with God and service of high causes have been crowded out. God grows unreal. The self-evidencing experiences that maintain vital confidence in the spiritual life grow dim and unimperative. Men pass years without habitually thinking as though God really were, without making any great decisions as though God's will were King, without engaging in any sacrificial work that makes the thought of God a need and a delight, without the companionship of great ideas or the sustenance of prayer. Then, when experience is denuded of any sense of God's reality, some intellectual doubt is suggested by books or friends, or fearful trouble shatters happiness. What recourse is there in such a case? The arguments of faith have no experience to get their grip upon; they can appeal to no solid and sustained fact of living. Religious confidence goes to pieces and men tell their friends that modern philosophy has been too much for faith. But the underlying difficulty was not philosophical; it was vital. The insolvency of "belief" was due to the bankruptcy of "trust." Personal fellowship with God failed first; the theory about him lapsed afterward. Throughout our endeavor to deal with intellectual perplexity, this fundamental truth should not be forgotten. _The peril of religion is that vital experience shall be resolved into a formula of explanation, and that men, grasping the formula, shall suppose themselves thereby to possess the experience._ If one inquires what air is, the answer will probably be a formula stating that oxygen and nitrogen mixed in proportions of twenty-one to seventy-nine make air. But air in experience is not a formula. Air is the elixir we breathe and live thereby. Air is the magician who takes the words that our lips frame and bears them from friend to friend in daily converse. Air is the messenger who carries music to our ears and fragrance to our nostrils; it is the whisperer among the trees in June, and in March the wild dancer who shakes the bare branches for his castanets. Air is the giant who piles the surf against the rocky shore, and the nurse who fans the faces of the sick. One cannot put that into a formula. No more can God be put into a theology, however true. They who define him best may understand him least. God is the Unseen Friend, the Spiritual Presence, who calls us in ideals, warns us in remorse, renews us with his pardon, and comforts us with power. God is the Spirit of Righteousness in human life, whose victories we see in every moral gain, and allied with whom we have solid hopes of moral victory. God is the One who holds indeed the far stars in his hand, and yet in fellowship with whom each humblest son of man may find strength to do and to endure with constancy and fortitude and deathless hope. And when one lives close to him, so that the inner doors swing easily on quiet hinges to let him in, he is the One who illumines life with a radiance that human wills alone cannot attain. That is God--"Blessed is the man that taketh refuge in him" (Psalm 34:8). CHAPTER V Faith's Intellectual Difficulties DAILY READINGS Most people will readily grant that such a sense of personal fellowship with God as the last week's study presented is obviously desirable. Every one who has experienced such filial life with God will bear witness to its incomparable blessing. Said Tennyson, "I should be sorely afraid to live my life without God's presence, but to feel he is by my side just now as much as you are, that is the very joy of my heart." But many who would admit the desirability of the experience are troubled about the reasonableness of the beliefs that underly it. They want intellectual assurance about their faith. Let us in the daily readings present certain considerations which a mind so perplexed should take into account. Fifth Week, First Day We should let no one deny our right to bring religious belief to the test of reasonableness. Glanvill was right when in the seventeenth century he said, "There is not anything I know which hath done more mischief to Religion than the disparaging of Reason." In the New Testament Paul says: =Prove all things; hold fast that which is good.--I Thess. 5:21.= Peter says: =Yea, and for this very cause adding on your part all diligence, in your faith supply virtue; and in your virtue knowledge.--II Pet. 1:5.= This might be paraphrased to read, Faith should be _worked out_ into character and _thought through_ into knowledge. As for Jesus: =One of the scribes came, and heard them questioning together, and knowing that he had answered them well, asked him, What commandment is the first of all? Jesus answered, The first is, Hear, O Israel; The Lord our God, the Lord is one: and thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy mind, and with all thy strength.--Mark 12:28-30.= In many a life which has neglected these admonitions Lowell's words have proved true: "Nothing that keeps thought out is safe from thought." In our resolute endeavor to think through the mystery of life, however, and to find a reasonable basis for faith, we need to remember that _the very desire to know is an indication of the reality which we seek_. The dim intuition that the world with all its diverse powers was in some sense a unity, preceded by ages the statement of nature's uniformity which modern science knows; and man's tireless desire to reach a reasonable statement of the unity was an intimation in advance that unity was there. So men do not believe in God because they have proved him; they rather strive endlessly to prove him because they cannot help being sure that he must be there. This in itself is an intimation about reality which no thoughtful man will lightly set aside. Tennyson rightly describes the reason for man's quest after proof about God: "If e'er when faith had fall'n asleep, I heard a voice 'believe no more' And heard an ever-breaking shore That tumbled in the Godless deep; A warmth within the breast would melt The freezing reason's colder part, And like a man in wrath the heart Stood up and answer'd 'I have felt.'" _Eternal Father, Quest of ages, long sought, oft doubted or forsook; can it be that Thou art known to us, the Law within our minds, the Life of every breath we draw, the Love that yearneth in our hearts? Art Thou the Spirit who oft hast striven with us, and whom we greatly feared, lest yielding to His strong embrace we should become more than we dared to be?_ _An impulse toward forgiveness has sometimes stirred within us, we have felt moved to show mercy, the sacrificial life has touched our aspiration; but we were unprepared to pay the price. Was this Thyself, and have we turned from Thee? Something like this we must have done, so barren, joyless and so dead has life become. Canst Thou not visit us again?_ _We hush our thoughts to silence, we school our spirits in sincerity, and here we wait. O may we not feel once more the light upon our straining eyes, the tides of life rise again within our waiting hearts?_ _We never looked to meet Thee in the stress of thought, the toil of life, or in the call of duty; we only knew that somehow life had lost for us all meaning, dignity, and beauty. How then shall we turn back again and see with eyes that fear has filmed? How can we be born again, now grown so old in fatal habit?_ _If we could see this life of ours lived out in Thee, its common days exalted, its circumstances made a throne, its bitterness, disappointment, and failure all redeemed, then our hearts might stir again, and these trembling hands lay hold on life for evermore. Amen._--W. E. Orchard. Fifth Week, Second Day Not only is man's tireless quest for assurance about God an intimation that God must be here to be sought after; but _the spiritual nature of man which insists on the quest is itself a revelation that God actually is here_. Some men say that our spiritual life is the result of evolution, and they suppose that by this magic word they have explained it. But what comes out of a process of growth was somehow latent in the Original Beginning from which the growth started. Palm-trees do not grow from acorns; only oaks evolve from acorns and for the sufficient reason that oaks are somehow _involved in acorns_ to start with. So a universe with spiritual life in it naturally presupposes an Original with spiritual life in It. Whatever evolves must first of all have been involved. The very fact that the seeker after God has a spiritual life, which is restless and unsatisfied without faith in the Eternal Spirit, is one of the clearest indications that, whatever else may be said about the source of life, it must be spiritual. The Nile for ages was a mystery; it flowed through Egypt--a blessed necessity to the land, enriching the soil, and sustaining the people--but nobody knew its source. Long before Victoria Nyanza was discovered, however, thinkers were sure that a great lake must be the explanation of the stream; and when at last they found the sources of the Nile, the lake was even greater than anyone had dreamed. So is man's spirit a revelation of a spiritual origin even before that origin is clearly known. As the Bible puts it: =Now he that wrought us for this very thing is God, who gave unto us the earnest of the Spirit.--II Cor. 5:5.= _O God! mysterious and Infinite, Thou art the first and Thou the last: as our weeks pass away and our age rises or declines, we still return to Thee who ever art the same. We seek Thee as the sole abiding light amid the shadows of perishable things. O Thou most ancient God! to whom the heavens are but of yesterday, and the life of worlds but as the shooting star, there is no number of Thy days and mercies; and what can we do, O Lord, but throw ourselves on Thee who failest not, and from whom our pathway is not hid? With solemn and open heart we would meet Thee here. Cover not Thyself with a cloud, most High, but may our prayer pass through._ _O Thou our constant Witness and our awful Judge! When we remember our thoughtless lives, our low desires, our impatient temper, our ungoverned wills, we know that Thou hast left us without excuse. For Thou hast not made us blind, O Lord, as the creatures that have no sin; nor hast Thou spared the light of holy guidance. Thy still small voice of warning whispers through our deepest conscience; and Thine open Word hath dwelt among us, full of grace and truth, and called us to the feet of Christ to choose the better part. We are not our own, and are ashamed to have lived unto ourselves. Thou hast formed us for Thy service, and we must hide our face that we have shrunk from the glorious hardships of our task, and slumbered on our holy watch. Our daily work has not been wrought as in Thy sight; and we have not made the outgoings of the morning and the evening to praise Thee. The trials of our patience we have received as earthly pains of nature, not as the heavenly discipline of faith; and the fulness of Thy bounties has come to us as dead comfort, not as the quickening touch of Thy everlasting love. O our true and only God! we have lived in a bondage of the world that bringeth no content; and the passions we serve are as strange idols that cannot deliver. Awake, awake, O Arm of the Lord! and burst our bonds in sunder; and help the spirit that struggles within us to turn unto Thee with a pure heart, and serve Thee in newness of spirit. Amen._--James Martineau. Fifth Week, Third Day Many stumble at the very beginning of their quest for God, because they are sure that finite mind can never know the Infinite. The Bible itself asserts that God is in one sense unknowable. =Touching the Almighty, we cannot find him out.--Job 37:23.= =Man cannot find out the work that God hath done from the beginning even to the end.--Eccl. 3:11.= =O the depth of the riches both of the wisdom and the knowledge of God! how unsearchable are his judgments, and his ways past tracing out! For who hath known the mind of the Lord? or who hath been his counsellor?--Rom. 11:33, 34.= But in the same sense in which God is unknowable, all the most important realities with which we deal are also beyond our comprehension. We do not know what electricity is, what matter is, what life is. Ether is utterly beyond the reach of our definitions, and an English scientist calls it "unknown, impalpable, the necessary condition of scientific thought." As for the constituent elements of the material world, we are told that atoms are so infinitesimally minute as to be indivisible, and yet that an "electron ranges about in the atom as a mouse might in a cathedral." The plain fact is that in any realm, human knowledge soon runs off into an unknown region where it deals with invisible realities, which it cannot define, but on which life is based. While therefore we do not know what electricity, ether, electrons, and life itself are, we do know them well _in their relationship with our needs_. So we may know God. Deep beyond deep in him will be past our fathoming, but what God means in his relationships with our lives we may know gloriously. _O Thou who transcendest all thought of Thee as the heavens are higher than the earth; we acknowledge that we cannot search Thee out to perfection, but we thank Thee that Thou, the Invisible, comest to us in the things that are seen; that Thy exceeding glory is shadowed in the flower that blooms for a day, in the light that fades; that Thine infinite love has been incarnate in lowly human life; and that Thy presence surrounds all our ignorance, Thy holiness our sin, Thy peace our unrest._ _Give us that lowly heart which is the only temple that can contain the infinite. Save us from the presumption that prides itself on a knowledge which is not ours, and from the hypocrisy and carelessness which professes an ignorance which Thy manifestation has made for ever impossible. Save us from calling ourselves by a name that Thou alone canst wear, and from despising the image of Thyself Thou hast formed us to bear, and grant that knowledge of Thee revealed in Jesus Christ which is our eternal life. Amen._--W. E. Orchard. Fifth Week, Fourth Day The assurance of God may come in part from looking outward at his creation. This universe seems superficially to be material, but really it is _saturated with the presence of mind_. So a city's streets, buildings, bridges, subways, and railroads might appear to careless thought grossly material; but the fact is that in their origin they all are _mental_. They are not simply iron and steel and stone; they are thought, plan, purpose materialized and made visible. The basic fact about them is that mind shaped them and permeates every use to which they are put. The most important and decisive force in their origination was not anything that can be seen, but the invisible thought that dreamed them and moulded them. So when one looks at creation he finds something more than matter; he finds order, law, uniformity; his mind is at home in tracing regularities, discovering laws, and perceiving purposes. Creation is not grossly material; it is saturated with the evidence of mind. Lord Kelvin, the chemist, walking in the country with Liebig, his fellow-scientist, asked his companion if he believed that the grass and flowers grew by mere chemical forces; and Liebig answered, "No, no more than I could believe that the books of botany describing them could grow by mere chemical forces." =Lift up your eyes on high, and see who hath created these, that bringeth out their host by number; he calleth them all by name; by the greatness of his might, and for that he is strong in power, not one is lacking.= =Why sayest thou, O Jacob, and speakest, O Israel, My way is hid from Jehovah, and the justice due to me is passed away from my God? Hast thou not known? hast thou not heard? The everlasting God, Jehovah, the Creator of the ends of the earth, fainteth not, neither is weary; there is no searching of his understanding. He giveth power to the faint; and to him that hath no might he increaseth strength. Even the youths shall faint and be weary, and the young men shall utterly fall: but they that wait for Jehovah shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run, and not be weary; they shall walk, and not faint.--Isa. 40:26-31.= _O Thou Infinite Perfection, who art the soul of all things that are ... we thank Thee for the world of matter whereon we live, wherewith our hands are occupied, and whereby our bodies are builded up and filled with food and furnished with all things needful to enjoy. We thank Thee for the calmness of Night, which folds Thy children in her arms, and rockest them into peaceful sleep, and when we wake we thank Thee that we are still with Thee. We bless Thee for the heavens over our head, arched with loveliness, and starred with beauty, speaking in the poetry of nature the psalm of life which the spheres chant before Thee to every listening soul._ _We thank Thee for this greater and nobler world of spirit wherein we live, whereof we are, whereby we are strengthened, upheld, and blessed. We thank Thee for the wondrous powers which Thou hast given to man, that Thou hast created him for so great an estate, that thou hast enriched him with such noble faculties of mind and conscience and heart and soul, capable of such continual increase of growth and income of inspiration from Thyself. We thank Thee for the wise mind, for the just conscience, for the loving heart, and the soul which knows Thee as Thou art, and enters into communion with Thy spirit, rejoicing in its blessing from day to day. Amen._--Theodore Parker. Fifth Week, Fifth Day The vital assurance of faith always comes, not so much from observing the outer world, as from appreciating the meaning of man's inner life. Man knows that he is something more than a physical machine. Theorists may say that our minds are only a series of molecular changes in the brain; but man turns to ask: _Who is it that is watching these molecular changes? The very fact that we can discuss them, is proof that we are something more than they are and of another order._ Leslie Stephen was an agnostic, but at the thought of man as merely a physical machine he grew impatient. "I knock down a man and an image," he said, "and both fall down because both are material. But when the man gets up and knocks me down, the result is not explicable by any merely mechanical action." Man denies his own inward consciousness of self when he refuses to acknowledge the mental and spiritual part of him as the thing he really is. Man may have a body, but he surely is a soul. And when man lets this highest part of him speak its own characteristic word, he always hears a message like this: I am spirit; to grow into great character is the one worthy end of my existence; but how came I to be spirit with spiritual purpose unless my Creator is of like quality? and how can I believe that my existence and my purpose are not a cruel joke unless I am begotten by a Spiritual Life that will sustain my strength and crown my effort? To believe that man's soul is a foundling, laid on the doorstep of a merely physical universe, crying in vain for any father who begot him or any mother who conceived him, is to make our highest life a liar. Therefore man at his best has always believed in God. =For as many as are led by the Spirit of God, these are the sons of God. For ye received not the spirit of bondage again unto fear; but ye received the spirit of adoption, whereby we cry, Abba, Father. The Spirit himself beareth witness with our spirit, that we are children of God.--Rom. 8:14-16.= _O Thou whom no name can tell, whom all our thoughts cannot fully comprehend, we rejoice in all Thy goodness.... We thank Thee for our body, this handful of dust so curiously and wonderfully framed together. We bless Thee for this sparkle of Thy fire that we call our soul, which enchants the dust into thoughtful human life, and blesses us with so rich a gift. We thank Thee for the varied powers Thou hast given us here on earth. We bless Thee for the far-reaching mind, which puts all things underneath our feet, rides on the winds and the waters, and tames the lightning into useful service.... We thank Thee for this conscience, whereby face to face we commune with Thine everlasting justice. We thank Thee for the strength of will which can overpower the weakness of mortal flesh, face danger and endure hardship, and in all things acquit us like men...._ _We thank Thee for this religious sense, whereby we know Thee, and, amid a world of things that perish, lay fast hold on Thyself, who alone art steadfast, without beginning of days or end of years, forever and forever still the same. We thank Thee that amid all the darkness of time, amid joys that deceive us and pleasures that cheat, amid the transgressions we commit, we can still lift up our hands to Thee, and draw near Thee with our heart, and Thou blessest us still with more than a father's or a mother's never-ending love. Amen._--Theodore Parker. Fifth Week, Sixth Day One ground of assurance concerning faith is the way a sincere fellowship with God affects life. In a delicious passage of his autobiography, Benjamin Franklin says, "I was scarce fifteen, when, after doubting by turns of several points, as I found them disputed in the different books I read, I began to doubt of Revelation itself. Some books against Deism fell into my hands; they were said to be the substance of sermons preached at Boyle's Lectures. It happened that they wrought an effect on me quite contrary to what was intended by them; for the arguments of the Deists which were quoted to be refuted, appeared to me much stronger than the refutations; in short I soon became a thorough Deist. My arguments perverted some others, particularly Collins and Ralph; but, each of them having afterwards wrong'd me greatly without the least compunction, and recollecting Keith's conduct towards me (who was another free thinker), and my own towards Vernon and Miss Read, which at times gave me great trouble, I began to suspect that this doctrine, tho' it might be true, was not very useful." Many men, not yet able to see clearly the issue of conflicting arguments, are practically convinced in favor of faith by the relative effects on life of faith and unbelief. When one carries this thought out until he imagines a world where no one any more believes in God, he feels even more emphatically the negative results of unbelief. As Sir James Stephen said, "We cannot judge of the effects of Atheism from the conduct of persons who have been educated as believers in God, and in the midst of a nation which believes in God. If we should ever see a generation of men to whom the word God has no meaning at all, we should get a light on the subject which might be lurid enough." A practical working conviction is often gained in religion, as in every other realm, not by argument, but by acting on a principle until it verifies itself by its results, or, as in Benjamin Franklin's case, by trying a negation until one is driven from it by its consequences. =Beware of false prophets, who come to you in sheep's clothing, but inwardly are ravening wolves. By their fruits ye shall know them. Do men gather grapes of thorns, or figs of thistles? Even so every good tree bringeth forth good fruit; but the corrupt tree bringeth forth evil fruit. A good tree cannot bring forth evil fruit, neither can a corrupt tree bring forth good fruit. Every tree that bringeth not forth good fruit is hewn down, and cast into the fire. Therefore by their fruits ye shall know them.--Matt. 7:15-20.= _O God, who remainest the same though all else fades, who changest not with our changing moods, who leavest us not when we leave Thee; we thank Thee that when we lose faith in Thee, soon or late we come to faith in something that leads us back again with firmer trust and more sincerity. Even if we wander into the far country we take ourselves with us; ourselves who are set towards Thee as rivers to the sea. If we turn to foolishness, our hearts grow faint and weary, our path is set with thorns, the night overtakes us, and we find we have strayed from light and life._ _Grant to us clearer vision of the light which knows no shade of turning, that we stray not in folly away; incline our hearts to love the truth alone, so that we miss Thee not at last; give us to realise of what spirit we are, so that we cleave ever to Thee, who alone can give us rest and joy. Amen._--W. E. Orchard. Fifth Week, Seventh Day When all is said and done in the matter of intellectual assurance, many are confused by the seeming lack of finality in the result. After all these ages of debate, they say, see all the innumerable opinions of jarring sects about religious truth! Evidently there is no satisfying conclusion obtainable at all! But look at the innumerable schools of medicine--shall one on their account decide that health is a fruitless study? Consider the infinite variety of taste in food--shall we say that therefore hunger and its satisfaction is a futile question to discuss? Rather, the very variety of the answers in man's quest reveals the importance of the quest itself. Of course proof of God lacks the finality of a scientific demonstration, and this is true _because it moves in a realm so much more important than anything that science touches_. Exactness and finality are possible only in the least important realms. One can measure and analyze and describe to a minute nicety a table which a carpenter has made, but when one turns to the carpenter himself and endeavors to analyze his motives, weigh his thoughts, estimate his quality, and prove his purposes, one drops minute nicety at once. The carpenter is not to be put into a column of figures and added with mathematical precision as his table is. The farther up one moves in the scale the less precise and undeniable do his conclusions become. So science is exact just because it deals with measurable things; but religion, by as much as its realm is more important, can less easily pack its conclusions into neat parcels finally tied up and sealed. A man who will not believe anything which is not precisely demonstrable must eliminate from his life everything except what yardsticks can measure and scales can weigh. Let no man ever give up the fight for faith because he does not seem at once to be reaching an answer which he can neatly formulate. Let him remember Tolstoi, writing on his birthday: "I am twenty-four, and I have not done a thing yet. But I feel that not in vain have I been struggling for nearly eight years against doubt and temptation. For what am I destined? This only the future will disclose." =Hear, O Jehovah, when I cry with my voice: Have mercy also upon me, and answer me. When thou saidst, Seek ye my face; my heart said unto thee, Thy face, Jehovah, will I seek. Hide not thy face from me; Put not thy servant away in anger: Thou hast been my help; Cast me not off, neither forsake me, O God of my salvation. When my father and my mother forsake me, Then Jehovah will take me up. Teach me thy way, O Jehovah; And lead me in a plain path, Because of mine enemies. Deliver me not over unto the will of mine adversaries: For false witnesses are risen up against me, And such as breathe out cruelty. I had fainted, unless I had believed to see the goodness of Jehovah In the land of the living. Wait for Jehovah: Be strong, and let thy heart take courage; Yea, wait thou for Jehovah.= =--Psalm 27:7-14.= _Deliver us, our Father, from all those mists which do arise from the low places where we dwell, which rise up and hide the sun, and the stars even, and Thee. Deliver us from the narrowness and the poverty of our conceptions. Deliver us from the despotism of our senses. And grant unto us this morning, the effusion of Thy Spirit, which shall bring us into the realm of spiritual things, so that we may, by the use of all that which is divine in us, rise into the sphere of Thy thought, into the realm where Thou dwellest, and whither have trooped from the ages the spirits of just men now made perfect. Grant, we pray Thee, that we may not look with time-eyes upon eternal things, measuring and dwarfing with our imperfectness the fitness and beauty of things heavenly. So teach us to come into Thy presence and to rise by sympathy into Thy way of thinking and feeling, that so much as we can discern of the invisible may come to us aright. Amen._--Henry Ward Beecher. COMMENT FOR THE WEEK I While it is true that in many cases the apparent unreasonableness of Christian faith springs from the underlying unreality of Christian life, this is not always a sufficient diagnosis of doubt. Horace G. Hutchinson, the English golfer, who spent much of his life in agnosticism and has now come over into Christian faith, thus interprets the spirit of his long unbelief: "All the while I had the keenest consciousness of the comfort that one would gain could he but believe in the truth of the Christian promises. Surely that must always be the agnostic's mood.... It is not that they wilfully reject the appeal to the heart; their will is eager to respond to it. But man has his gift of reason; it cannot be that he is not intended to use it. Least of all can it be part of the great design that he should suspend its use in regard to the most important subject to which his thought can be directed." Such sincere intellectual difficulties with faith must be met with intellectual arguments and not with moral accusations. Plenty of folk of elevated character and admirable lives grant, sometimes impatiently, that the Christian faith is beautiful--but is it _so_? Is not its solacing power a deceptive sleight of hand, by which our pleasing fancies and desires are made to look like truth? So a mirage is beautiful to weary travelers, but their temporary comfort rests on fallacy. McTaggart summed up one of the most wide-spread and masterful desires of this generation when he said, "What people want is a religion they can believe to be true." As one sets himself to meet faith's intellectual difficulties, the attitude in which he is to approach the problem is all-important. Samuel M. Crothers tells us that a young man once left with him a manuscript for criticism, and remarked in passing, "It is only a little bit of my work, and it will not take you long to look it over. In fact it is only the first chapter in which I explain the Universe." When one outgrows this cocksure presumption of youth and gains a graver and more seasoned mind, he leaves behind the attempt to pierce to creation's last secret. He sees that we can no more neatly and finally demonstrate God than we can demonstrate any of life's important faiths. Moreover proof of God, as a theorem in philosophy, is not a deep human need. Men often have supposed that they had such demonstration, but human experience was little affected by the fact. The exhaustless source of mankind's desire for assurance about God is not theoretical curiosity but vital need, and until a man feels the need, sees how urgently man's highest life reaches out toward God, he never will make much of any arguments. Browning's bishop asks his friend: "Like you this Christianity or not? It may be false, but will you wish it true? Has it your vote to be so if it can?" Until a man gives an affirmative answer to that inquiry, until he possesses a life that itself suggests God and wants him, he is not likely to arrive anywhere by argument alone. This is not the case with Christianity only. We cannot prove with theoretical finality that monogamy is the form of family life to which the universe is best adapted. But mankind, trying many experiments with family life, has found in the monogamous family values unique and indispensable. It is because men feel the value of such a love-bond, that they begin to argue for it. And their argument, when one sees deeply into it, is framed after this fashion: We know the _worth_ of this family-life of faithful lovers. We want monogamy and we propose to have it. We do not pretend that our faith in monogamy, as the form of marriage best fitted to this universe, is capable of exact demonstration; but we do see arguments of great weight in favor of it and we do not see any convincing arguments against it. We are persuaded that our faith has reasonable right of way; and we propose to go on believing in monogamy and practicing it and combating its enemies, until we prove our case in the only way such cases ever can be finally proved, by the issue of the matter in the end. So men come into the sort of personal and social life that Jesus represents. Apart from any theories, they value the life itself--its ideals of character, friendship, service, trust. If honesty allows, they propose to live that life. When a man has gone far enough in Christian experience, so that he comes up to his intellectual difficulties by such a road, he is likely to profit by a consideration of the reasons in favor of faith. He is in the attitude of saying: I have found great living in Christ. No argument for the Christian experience can be quite so convincing as the Christian experience itself. I am bound to have that life if I honestly can, and I will search to see whether there is any insuperable intellectual difficulty in the way of it. II One of the initial perplexities of faith concerns the sort of intellectual assurance which we have a right to expect. In a laboratory of physics, the investigator gathers facts, makes inductions as to their laws, and then verifies his findings. He uses a simplicity of procedure and gains a finality of result that makes all other knowledge seem relatively insecure. To be sure, the scientist may seek long for his truth and make many ineffectual guesses that prove false, but, in the end, he reaches a conclusion so demonstrable that every man of wit enough to investigate the subject must agree that it is so. How the Christian wishes for such certainty concerning God! Before, however, any one surrenders confidence in God, because confessedly the affirmations of religious faith cannot be established by such methods as a physicist employs, there is ample reason for delay. We are certain that heat expands and cold contracts, and we can prove the fact and state its laws. But are we not also sure that it is wrong to lie and right to tell the truth? This conviction about truthfulness at least equals in theoretical certainty and in practical right to determine conduct, our confidence in heat's expanding power. This conviction about truthfulness does actually sway life more than does any single scientific truth that one can name. Let us then set ourselves to prove our moral confidence by such methods as the physical laboratory can supply--with yard sticks, and Troy weight scales, and test tubes, and meters! At once it is evident that if we are to hold only such truth as is amenable to the demonstration of a laboratory, we must bid farewell to every _moral conviction_ that hitherto has influenced our lives. God, banished because the physicist cannot prove him, will have good company in exile! Moreover, all our _esthetic convictions_ will have to share that banishment. We know that some things are beautiful. The consensus of the race's judgment has not so much agreed to accept the new astronomy as it has agreed to think sunrise glorious and snow-capped mountains wonderful. Take from our lives our judgments on beauty, so that we may call no music marvelous, no poetry inspiring, no scenery sublime, and some of the most intimate and assured convictions we possess will have to go. A man who has seen the Matterhorn at dawn, when the first shaft of light reaches its rocky pinnacle and streams down in glory over the glaciers that cape its shoulders, will not disbelieve the splendor of the scene, though all the world beside unanimously should cry that it is not beautiful. But prove it by the methods of a laboratory? When the geologist has analyzed all the mountain's rocks, the chemist all its minerals; when the astronomer has traced the earth's orbit that brings on the dawn, and the physicist has counted and tabulated the rays of light that make the colors, our conviction of the scene's beauty will be as little explained or proved as is our confidence in God. It becomes clear that some convictions which we both do and must hold are not amenable to the sort of proof which a scientific laboratory furnishes. Moreover, if we will have no truth beyond the reach of a physicist's demonstration, all our _convictions in the realm of personal relationship_ will have to go. We _know_ that friendship-love is the crown of every human fellowship. Father and son, mother and daughter, brother and sister, wife and husband--these relationships are in themselves bare branches wanting the foliage and fruit of friendship. Of no truth is man at his best more sure than he is that "Life is just our chance o' the price of learning love." But no laboratory ever can deal with such a truth, much less establish it. For this is the neglected insight, for the want of which our religious confidence is needlessly unstable: _Every realm of reality has its own appropriate kind of proof, and a method of proof available in one realm is seldom, if ever, usable in another._ That truthfulness is right is in a way provable, but methods proper to the moral realm must be allowed; that the Matterhorn is sublime is in a sense provable, but by methods which the esthetic realm permits; that love is the crown of life can be soundly established, but one must employ a method appropriate to personal relationships. If, obsessed by the procedure of a laboratory as the solitary path to knowledge, one will have no convictions which cannot meet its tests, then in good logic there must be a great emigration from his soul. All his convictions about morals and beauty, all his convictions about personal friendships and about God must leave together. He will have a depopulated spirit. No man could live on such terms for a single hour. The most essential and valuable equipment of our souls is in convictions which the demonstrations of a physicist can as little reach as an inch worm, clambering up the Himalayas, can measure the distance to the sun. III A man to whom the Christian life has come to be preeminently valuable, and who is asking whether it is intellectually justifiable, is set free, by such considerations as we just have noted, to seek assurance where religious assurance may properly be found. For one thing, he may find help by _trying out the creed of no-God_. Many a man is a wavering believer, makes little excursions into doubt and returns hesitant and unhappy, because he never has dared to see his doubts through to their logical conclusion and to face the world with God eliminated. One may sense the general atmosphere of the world, under the no-God hypothesis, by saying, _In all this universe there is no mind essentially greater than mine._ The import of such a statement grows weightier the more one ponders it. All human minds are infinitesimal in knowledge; endless realities must lie beyond our reach; "our science is a drop, our ignorance a sea." Yet human knowledge is all that anywhere exists, if the no-God hypothesis is true. There is no knower who knows more, and the infinite reality beyond our grasp is not known by any mind at all. No one ever thought it or will think it through eternity. Then, let a man add, _In all this universe there is no goodness essentially greater than mine._ Human goodness is pitiably partial; it is but prophecy of what goodness ought to mean; "Man is a dwarf of himself," as Emerson said. But human goodness is all that anywhere exists, if the no-God hypothesis is true. There never will be any better goodness anywhere, and when the earth comes to its end in a solar catastrophe, there will be no goodness left at all. Certainly the hypothesis of no-God raises more questions than it easily can quell. Indeed the Christian, long accused by unbelieving friends of gross credulity because he holds his creed, may well leave his defense and "go over the top" in an offensive charge. If it is a question of holding creeds, unbelief is a creed as certainly as belief is; it says, I believe that there is no God or that God cannot be known. If it is a question of credulity, the Christian suspects that of all the different kinds of credulousness which the world has seen, nothing ever has surpassed the capacity of modern sceptics to accept impossible beliefs. He who says, I believe that there is no God, nor anything which that name might reasonably connote, is saying, I believe that the fundamental reality everywhere is physical. Long ages ago atoms, electrons, "mobile cosmic ethers" began their mysterious organization, whose present issue is planetary orbits, rocks, organic life, and, highest point of all, the brain of man. Man's mind is but the moving shadow cast by the activity of brain. Man's character is the subtle fragrance of his nerves. Everywhere, if the no-God hypothesis be true, spirit is a _result_, physical energy the _cause_. Some startling corollaries follow such a view. _No man can be blamed for anything._ Molecular action in the brain is responsible alike for saints and sinners, and we are as powerless to change our quality of character or action as a planet is to change its course. Judas and Jesus, Festus and Paul, the Belgian lads and the Prussian officers who mutilated them, the raper and the raped--why blame the one or praise the other when all characters alike are ground from a physical machine, whose action is predetermined by the push of universal energy behind? One man even says that to condemn an immoral deed is like Xerxes whipping the Hellespont--punishment visited on physical necessity which is not to blame. The second corollary is not less startling: _every man thinks as he does because of molecular action in the brain_. A Christian believes in God because his molecules maneuver so, and his opponent is an atheist because his molecules maneuver otherwise, and all convictions of truth, however well debated and reasoned out, are fundamentally the work of atoms, not of mind. What we call intellect as little causes anything as steam from a kettle causes the boiling out of which it comes. Some brains boil Socialism, some do not; some brains boil Episcopalianism and some Christian Science. A determinist and a believer in freewill differ as do oaks and elm trees, for physical reasons only, and folk are Catholic in southern Europe--so we are informed--because their skulls are narrow, and in northern Europe Protestants because their skulls are broad. Truth is a nickname for a neurosis. The standing marvel is that on some matters like the multiplication table our brains boil so unanimously. A third corollary still remains: _we have no creative power of mind and will_. All that is and is to be was wound up in primeval matter, and now in our thoughts and actions is ticking like a clock. "All of our philosophy," says Huxley, "all our poetry, all our science, and all our art--Plato, Shakespeare, Newton, and Raphael--are potential in the fires of the sun." That is to say, Plato had nothing to do with _creating_ his philosophy, nor Shakespeare with writing plays--they were empty megaphones and the real voice is the physical machine from which all things come. Professor Bowne of Boston University, after the publication of his "Metaphysics," received from a physicist a protest against his emphasis on the reality of mind. The professor of physics insisted that the only fundamental reality was physical and that mind is always a result of brain's activity and never a cause of anything. To this Professor Bowne replied that according to the writer's own theory, as he understood it, the letter of protest was the result of certain physical forces issuing in nervous excitations that made scratches on paper, and that the writer's mind had nothing effectual to do with its composition. This, said Professor Bowne, might be a plausible explanation of the letter, but he was unwilling to apply it to the universe. What wonder that the physicist acknowledged to a friend that the retort nettled him, for he did not see just how to answer it? IV One's discontent with this reduction of our lives to physical causation is increased when he studies the _mental process by which men reach it_. It is as if a man should perceive in the works of Shakespeare insight and beauty, pathos and laughter, despair and hope, and should set himself to explain all these as the function of the type. How plausibly he could do it! If one takes Shakespeare's sentences full of spiritual meaning he can readily resolve them into twenty-six constituent letters of the alphabet, and these into certain hooks and dashes, and these into arithmetical points diffused in space. Starting with such abstract points, let one suppose that some fortunate day they arranged themselves into hooks and dashes, and these into letters of the alphabet, and these by fortuitous concourse came together into sentences. Reading them we think we see deep spiritual meaning, but they are all the work of type; the fundamental reality is arithmetical points diffused in space. Such is the process by which a man reduces the mental and moral life of man back to its physical basis; then breaks up the physical basis into atoms; then, starting with these abstractions, builds up again the whole world which he just has analyzed, and thinks he has explained the infinitely significant spiritual life of man. Not for a long time will we accept such a method of explaining the works of Shakespeare! Nor can man contentedly be made to follow so inconsequential a process of thought as that by which the mind and character of Jesus are reduced to a maneuver of molecules. The attractiveness of this explanation of the universe as a huge physical machine is easily understood. It presents a simple picture, readily grasped. It packs the whole explanation of the world into a neat parcel, portable by any mind. In the days of monarchy the government of the universe was pictured in terms of an absolute sovereign; in feudal times the divine economy was pictured as a gigantic feudalism; we always use a dominant factor in the life of man to help us picture the eternal. So in the age whose builder and maker is machinery we easily portray the universe as a huge machine. The process is simple and natural, but to suppose that it is adequate is preposterous. Lord Kelvin, the chemist, knew thoroughly the mechanistic idea of the world. He felt the fascination of it, for he said at Johns Hopkins University, "I never satisfy myself until I make a mechanical model of a thing. If I can make a mechanical model I can understand it. As long as I cannot make a mechanical model all the way through, I cannot understand." But Lord Kelvin knew better than to suppose that this figure comprehended all of reality. "The atheistic idea," said he, "is so nonsensical, that I do not know how to put it into words." The rejection of the no-God hypothesis does not necessarily imply that a man becomes fully Christian in his thought of deity. There are way-stations between no-God and Jesus' Father. _But it does mean that to him reality must be fundamentally spiritual, not physical._ What other hypothesis possibly can fit the facts? For consider the view of a growing universe which we see from the outlook that modern science furnishes. Out of a primeval chaos where physical forces snarled at each other in unrelieved antagonism, where no man had yet arisen to love truth and serve righteousness, something has brought us to a time, when for all our evil, there are mothers and music and the laughter of children at play, men who love honor and for service' sake lay down their lives, and homes in every obscure street where fortitude and sacrifice are splendidly exhibited. Out of a chaos, where a contemporary observer, could there have been one, would have seen no slightest promise of spirit, something has brought us to the Ten Commandments, and the Sermon on the Mount, to great character and growing achievements in social righteousness, to lofty thoughts of the Divine and hopes of life eternal. _Something has been at work here besides matter. No explanation of all this will do, without God._ V Another source of confirmation for the man who, valuing Christian experience, seeks assurance that it is intellectually justifiable, is to be found in the effect of Christian faith on life itself. The nautical tables can be proved by an astronomer in his observatory; but if they are given to a sailor and he beats about the seas with them in safety, finding that they make adventurous voyages practicable, that also would be important witness to their truth. So the Christian ideas of life have not been kept by studious recluses to ponder over and weave philosophies about; they have been down in the market place, men have been practically trying them for generations, and _they make great living_. The ultimate ground of practical assurance about anything is that we have tried it and that it works. A man may have experience that other persons exist, may draw the inference that friendly relations with them are not impossible, but only when he launches out and verifies his thought in an adventure will he really be convinced of friendship's glory. In no other way has final assurance about God come home to man. They who have lived as though God _were_ have been convinced that he _is_; they who have willed to do his will have known. That religious faith does justify itself in life is a fact to which mankind's experience amply testifies. Men have come to God, not as chemists to bread curious to analyze it; they have come as hungry men, needing to eat if they would live. And they have found life glorified by faith in him. The difference between religion and irreligion here is plain. _How seldom one finds enthusiastic unbelievers!_ When all that is fine spirited and resolute in agnostic literature is duly weighed and credited, the pessimistic undertone is always heard. Leslie Stephen thus summarizes life--"There is a deep sadness in the world. Turn and twist the thought as you may there is no escape. Optimism would be soothing if it were possible; in fact, it is impossible, and therefore a constant mockery." No gospel burns in the unbeliever's mind, urgent for utterance; he has no inspiring outlooks to offer, no glad tidings to declare. The more intelligent he is the more plainly he sees this. With Clifford he laments that "the spring sun shines out of an empty heaven to light up a soulless earth" and feels "with utter loneliness that the Great Companion is dead"; with Romanes he frankly states, "So far as the ruination of individual happiness is concerned, no one can have a more lively conception than myself of the possibly disastrous tendency of my work." An unbeliever whose admirable life raised the question as to the philosophy by which he guided it, gave this summary of his creed, "I am making the best of a bad mess." Unbelievers do not spontaneously utter in song the glory of a creed like this, and when they do write poetry, it is of a sort that music will not fit-- "The world rolls round forever like a mill, It grinds out death and life and good and ill, It has no purpose, heart, or mind or will." When from poetry one turns to philosophy, he can see good reasons why hymnals and unbelief should be uncongenial. There is little to make life worth while in a creed which holds as Haeckel does that morality in man, like the tail of a monkey or the shell of a tortoise, is purely a physiological effect, and that man himself is "an affair of chance; the froth and fume at the wave-top of a sterile ocean of matter." Shall the practical unserviceableness of such an idea for the purpose of life, awaken no suspicion as to its truth? Upon the other hand, suppose that by some strange chance the principles of Jesus should over night take possession of mankind. Even as it is, when one starts his thought with the Stone Age, the progress of mankind has obviously been immense. From universal cannibalism after a battle, to massacre without cannibalism marked one great advance; from massacre of all prisoners taken in war to enslavement of them marked another; and when slavery ceased being a philanthropic improvement, as it was at first, and became a sin and shame, humanity took another long step forward. With all our present barbarity, a far look backwards shows a clear ascent. As for the influence of Jesus, Lecky, the historian, tells us that "The simple record of three short years of Christ's active life has done more to regenerate and soften mankind than all the disquisitions of philosophers and all the exhortations of moralists." What if this process were brought to its fulfilment between sunset and dawn, and the new day came with every one sure of God's fatherhood and life eternal, of the law of love and the supremacy of character and with everyone living as though these were true? Whatever intellectual perplexities of belief a man may have, he knows that such a world would be divinely great. No war, no evil lust, no covetous selfishness, no drunkenness! Mankind, relieved of ancient burdens which have ruined character and crushed endeavor, confident of faiths that give life infinite horizons and deathless hopes, in cooperative international fraternity would be making the earth a decent home for God to rear his children in. One finds it hard to believe that ideas which, incarnate in life, would so redeem the world are false. As to the effect of the Christian affirmations on individual character, we do not need to picture an imagined future. A Character has been here who has lived them out. A jury of philosophers might analyze the wood-work and the metals of an organ, and guess from form and material what it is, but we still should need for our assurance a musician. When he sweeps the keys in harmony we _know_ that it is an organ. So when the philosophers have debated the pros and cons of argument concerning faith, Jesus _plays_ the Gospel. His life is the Christian affirmations done into character. When religious faith, at its best, is incarnate in a Man, this is the consequence. And multitudes of folk, living out the implications of the faith, have found the likeness of the Master growing in them. Weighty confirmation of the Gospel's _truth_ arrives when its meaning is translated into life; the world will not soon reject the New Testament in this edition--bound in a Man. To one in perplexity about belief, this proper question therefore rises: What do we think about the Christlike character? Is it not life at its sublimest elevation? But to acknowledge that and yet to deny the central faiths by which such life is lived is to say that those ideas which, incarnate, make living great are false, and those ideas which leave life meager of motive and bereft of hope are true. No one lives on such a basis in any other realm. We always mistrust the validity of any idea which works poorly or not at all. And so far from being a practical makeshift, this "negative pragmatism" is a true principle of knowledge. Says Professor Hocking, of Harvard, "If a theory has no consequences, or bad ones; if it makes no difference to men, or else undesirable differences; if it lowers the capacity of men to meet the stress of existence, or diminishes the worth to them of what existence they have; such a theory is somehow false, and we have no peace until it is remedied." The last word against irreligion is that it makes life unlivable; the last word for faith is that it makes life glorious. VI One who is facing intellectual difficulties in the way of faith may well consider that the very Christian life for whose possession he is seeking justification is itself an argument of the first importance. This life grew up in the universe; it is one expression of the universe; and it is hard to think that it does not reveal a nature kindred to itself in the source from which it came. Mankind has always experienced a relationship with the Unseen which has seemed like communion of soul with Soul. When a psychologist like Professor James, of Harvard, reduces to its most general terms this religious Fact which has been practically universal in the race, he puts it thus: "Man becomes conscious that this higher part (his spiritual life) is coterminous and continuous with a MORE of the same quality, which is operative in the universe outside of him, and which he can keep in working touch with, and in a fashion get on board of and save himself when all his lower being has gone to pieces in the wreck." No experience of man is more common in occurrence, more tremendous in result than this. From the mystics whose vivid sense of God canceled their consciousness that anything else was real, to plain folk who in the strength of the divine alliance have lived ordinary lives with extraordinary spirit, mankind as a whole has known that the best in man is in contact with a MORE. One does not need to be of a mystical temperament, given to raptures, to know what this means. Let him consider his own experience of love and duty, how he is bound by them to his ideals and woven into a community of personal life not only with his friends but with all humanity, until this spiritual life of his becomes the most august and commanding power he knows. When in our bodies we so discern a physical nature, whose laws and necessities we did not create, and whose power binds us into a community of need and labor with our fellows, our conclusion is confident. This experience is the basis of our assurance that a _physical universe is really here_. When, likewise in our inner selves we find a spiritual life, which man did not create, in obedience to which alone is safety, and peace, and power, what shall we conclude? That there is a _spiritual universe_ as plainly evidenced in man's soul as the physical universe is in the body! And when we note the attributes of this Spiritual Order, how it demands righteousness, rebukes sin, welcomes obedience and holds out ideals of endless possibility, it is plain that we are talking about something close of kin to God. As in summer we beat out through some familiar bay, naming the headlands as we sail, until if we go far enough, we cannot prevent our eyes from looking out across the unbounded sea, so if a man moves out through his own familiar spiritual life far enough, he comes to the Spiritual Order which is God. Man has not drifted into his religion by accident or fallen on it merely as superstition; he has moved out from his inner life to affirm a Spiritual Order as inevitably as he has moved out from his bodily experiences to affirm a physical universe. When from this general experience we turn to the specific experiences of religion, which prayer and worship represent, the testimony of the race is confident. Men have not all these ages been lifting up their souls to an unreality from which no response has come. The artesian well of transforming influence in human souls has not flowed from Nowhere. Some, indeed, hearing confidence in God founded on the individual experiences of man, derisively cry "Nonsense!" But if one were to prove that the Sistine Madonna is beautiful, he would have to offer his experience in evidence. "I went to Dresden," he might say, "up into the room where the Madonna hangs ... and it _is_ beautiful. I saw it." Met with derision by a doubter, as though his experience were no proof at all, how shall he proceed? "I am not the only one," he might continue, "who has perceived its beauty. All these centuries the folk best qualified to judge have gone up into that room and have come down again, sure that Raphael's work is beautiful." Is anyone in a position to deride that? So through all ages men and women, from lowest savages to the race's spiritual kings and queens, have gone up to the Divine, and, at their best, from experiences of prayer, worship, forgiven sins, transfigured lives, have come down sure that Reality is there. _One may not call nonsense the most universal and influential experience of the human race!_ The force of this fact is more clearly seen when one considers that man has grown up in this universe, gradually developing his powers and functions as responses to his environment. If he has eyes, so the biologists assure us, it is because the light waves played upon the skin and eyes came out in answer; if he has ears it is because the air waves were there first and ears came out to hear. Man never yet, according to the evolutionist, has developed any power save as a reality called it into being. There would be no fins if there were no water, no wings if there were no air, no legs if there were no land. Always the developing organism has been trying to "catch up with its environment." Yet some would tell us that man's noblest power of all has developed in a vacuum. They would say that his capacity to deal with a Spiritual World, to believe in God, and in prayer to experience fellowship with him, has all grown up with no Reality to call it into being. If so, it stands alone in man's experience, the only function of his life that grew without an originating Fact to call it forth. It does not seem reasonable to think that. The evidence of man's experience is overwhelmingly in favor of a Reality to which his spirit has been trying to answer. Said Max Müller, "To the philosopher the existence of God may seem to rest on a syllogism; in the eyes of the historian it rests on the whole evolution of human thought." CHAPTER VI Faith's Greatest Obstacle DAILY READINGS The speculative doubts leave many minds untouched, but one universal human experience sooner or later faces every serious life with questions about God's goodness. We all meet trouble, in ourselves or others, and oftentimes the wonder why in God's world such calamities should fall, such wretchedness should continually exist, plunges faith into perplexity. Few folk of mature years can fail to understand Edwin Booth when he wrote to a friend, "Life is a great big spelling book, and on every page we turn the words grow harder to understand the meaning of." Now, the basis of any intelligent explanation of faith's problem must rest in a _right practical attitude toward trouble_. To the consideration of that we turn in the daily readings. Sixth Week, First Day =Beloved, think it not strange concerning the fiery trial among you, which cometh upon you to prove you, as though a strange thing happened unto you: but insomuch as ye are partakers of Christ's sufferings, rejoice; that at the revelation of his glory also ye may rejoice with exceeding joy. If ye are reproached for the name of Christ, blessed are ye; because the Spirit of glory and the Spirit of God resteth upon you. For let none of you suffer as a murderer, or a thief, or an evil-doer, or as a meddler in other men's matters: but if a man suffer as a Christian, let him not be ashamed; but let him glorify God in this name.... Wherefore let them also that suffer according to the will of God commit their souls in well-doing unto a faithful Creator.--I Pet. 4:12-16, 19.= Such an attitude toward trouble as Peter here recommends is the most wholesome and hopeful possible to man. And it is reasonable too, if only on the ground that trouble _develops in men the essential qualities of strong character_. Our highest admiration is always reserved for men who master difficult crises. If the story of Joseph, begun beside Bedouin camp fires centuries ago, can easily be naturalized beside modern radiators; if Robinson Crusoe, translated into every tongue is understood by all, the reason lies in the depth of man's heart, where to make the most out of untoward situations is a daily problem. Not every one can grasp the argument or perceive the beauty of "Paradise Lost" and "Paradise Regained," but one thing about them every man appreciates--the blind Milton, sitting down to write them: "I argue not Against Heaven's hand or will, nor bate a jot Of heart or hope; but still bear up and steer Right onward." The full understanding of Ole Bull's playing on the violin was necessarily restricted to the musical, but no restriction bounds the admiration of men, learned or simple, when in a Munich concert, his A string snaps and he finishes the composition on three strings. That is the human problem in epitome. Getting music out of life's remainders after the break has come; winning the battle with what is left from a defeat; going blind, like Milton, and writing sublimest poetry, or deaf, like Beethoven, and composing superb sonatas; being reared in an almshouse and buried from Westminster Abbey, like Henry M. Stanley; or, like Kernahan, born without arms or legs and yet sitting at last in the British Parliament--all such hardihood and undiscourageable pluck reach back in a man's bosom beyond the strings that ease and luxury can touch, and strike there an iron, reverberating chord. Nothing in human life is so impressive as pluck, "fighting with the scabbard after the sword is gone." And no one who deeply considers life can fail to see that our best character comes when, as Peter says, we "suffer as a Christian." _O Lord our God, let our devout approach to Thee be that of the heart, not of the lips. Let it be in obedience to Thy spiritual law, not to any outward ritual. Thou desirest not temples nor offerings, but the sacrifice of a lowly and grateful heart Thou will not despise. Merciful Father, to all Thy dispensations we would submit ourselves, not grudgingly, not merely of necessity, but because we believe in Thy wisdom, Thy universal rule, and Thy goodness. In bereavement and in sorrow, in death as in life, in joys and in happiness, we would see Thy Hand. Teach us to see it; increase our faith where we cannot see; teach us also to love justice, and to do mercy, and to walk humbly with Thee our God. Make us at peace with all mankind, gentle to those who offend us, faithful in all duties, and sincere in sorrow when we fail in duty. Make us loving to one another, patient in distress, and ever thankful to Thy Divine power, which keeps, and guides, and blesses us every day. Lord, accept our humble prayer, accomplish in us Thy holy will. Let Thy peace reign in our hearts, and enable us to walk with Thee in love; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen._--Francis W. Newman, 1805. Sixth Week, Second Day =Even unto this present hour we both hunger, and thirst, and are naked, and are buffeted, and have no certain dwelling-place; and we toil, working with our own hands: being reviled, we bless; being persecuted, we endure; being defamed, we entreat: we are made as the filth of the world, the offscouring of all things, even until now.--I Cor. 4:11-13.= If Paul could be questioned about the experience of trouble which these verses vividly express, would he not say that there had been qualities of character in him and resources in his relationship with God which he never would have known about had it not been for the test of adversity? Trouble not only develops but also _reveals_ character; we do not know ourselves until we have been tried out in calamity. The simplest demand of adversity on every man is that he be "game." Henry Newbolt is not indulging in rhetoric when he tells of a Soudan battle where a British square made up of Clifton graduates is hard beset by a charge of fierce enemies, and, in that crisis, makes the cry of a Clifton football captain, "Play up, boys, play the game!" rally the men and save the day. At school or in the Soudan the problem is the same; the sling with which David plays in his youth is his chief reliance when Goliath comes; a "game" spirit is essential to character from birth to death. We turn from the story of Nelson at Aboukir, nailing six flags to his mast so that if even five were shot away no one would dream that he had surrendered, to find that the spirit there exemplified is applicable to our most common day. The quality which made Nelson an Admiral of England, in spite of his lost arm, his lost eye, his small stature, and his feeble health is one of our elemental needs. And to a supreme degree this quality was in great Christians like Paul. Read his letter to the Philippians and see! Adversity brought his spirit to light, and made it an asset of the cause. In a real sense, trouble, however forbidding, was one of Paul's best friends, and there was a good reason why he should "rejoice in tribulations." _O Father of spirits! Thou lovest whom Thou chastenest! Correct us in our weakness as the children of men, that we may love Thee in our strength as the sons of God. May the same mind be in us which was also in Jesus Christ, that we may never shrink, when our hour comes, from drinking of the cup that he drank of. Wake in us a soul to obey Thee, not with the weariness of servile spirits, but with the alacrity of the holy angels. Fill us with a contempt of evil pleasures and unfaithful ease; sustain us in the strictness of a devout life. Daily may we crucify every selfish affection, and delight to bear one another's burdens, to uphold each other's faith and charity, being tender-hearted and forgiving as we hope to be forgiven. Hold us to the true humility of the soul that has not yet attained; and may we be modest in our desire, diligent in our trust, and content with the disposals of Thy Providence. O Lord of life and death! Thy counsels are secret; Thy wisdom is infinite: we know not what a day may bring forth. When our hour arrives, and the veil between the worlds begins to be lifted before us, may we freely trust ourselves to Thee, and say, "Father, into Thy hands I commend my spirit." Amen._--James Martineau. Sixth Week, Third Day If adversity, rightly used, so develops and reveals character, we may expect to find trouble as a background to the most admirable men of the race. We read the luminous histories of Francis Parkman and do not perceive, behind the printed page, the original manuscript, covered with a screen of parallel wires, along which the blind author ran his pencil that he might write legibly. We think of James Watt as a genius at invention, and perhaps recall that Wordsworth said of him, "I look upon him, considering both the magnitude and the universality of his genius, as perhaps the most extraordinary man that this country ever produced." But Watt himself we forget--sickly of body, starving on eight shillings a week, and saying, "Of all things in life there is nothing more foolish than inventing." Kant's philosophy was a turning point in human thought, but lauding Kant, how few recall his struggle with a broken body! Said he, speaking of his incurable illness, "I have become master of its influence in my thoughts and actions by turning my attention away from this feeling altogether, just as if it did not at all concern me." Wilberforce, the liberator of British slaves, we know, and beside his grave in Westminster Abbey we recall the superb title that he earned, "the attorney general of the unprotected and of the friendless," but the Wilberforce who for twenty years was compelled to use opium to keep himself alive, and had the resolution never to increase the dose--who knows of him? One of the chief rewards of reading biography is this introduction that it gives to handicapped men; the knowledge it imparts of the world's great saints and scripture makers, conquerors and reformers, who, in the words of Thucydides, "dared beyond their strength, hazarded against their judgment, and in extremities were of excellent hope." And when one turns to the supreme Character, could the dark background be eliminated and still leave Him? =But now we see not yet all things subjected to him. But we behold him who hath been made a little lower than the angels, even Jesus, because of the suffering of death crowned with glory and honor, that by the grace of God he should taste of death for every man. For it became him, for whom are all things, and through whom are all things, in bringing many sons unto glory to make the author of their salvation perfect through sufferings.--Heb. 2:8-10.= _O God, who art unsearchable in Thy judgments, and in Thy ways past finding out, we bow before the mystery of Thy Being, and confess that we know nothing, and can say nothing worthy of Thee. We cannot understand Thy dealings with us. We have faith, not sight; when we cannot see, we may only believe. Sometimes Thou seemest to have no mercy upon us. Thou dost pierce us through our most tender affections, quenching the light of our eyes in dreadful darkness. Death tears from us all that we love, and Thou art seemingly deaf to all our cries. Our earthly circumstances are reversed and bitter poverty is appointed us, yet Thou takest no heed, and bringest no comfort to the sorrow and the barrenness of our life. Still would we trust in Thee and cling to that deepest of our instincts which tells us that we come from Thee and return to Thee. Be with us, Father of Mercies, in love and pity and tenderness unspeakable. Lift our souls into Thy perfect calm, where all our wills are in harmony with Thine. Amen._--Samuel McComb. Sixth Week, Fourth Day To one perplexed and disheartened by adversity, a theoretical explanation is generally not half as valuable as concrete instances of courage and fortitude, founded on faith. Whether we be theologians or scientists or as ignorant of both as Caliban, there is an immediate, personal call to arms in the brave fight of George Matheson, one of Scotland's great preachers for all his blindness, or in Louis Pasteur's indomitable will, making his discoveries despite the paralytic stroke that in his forty-sixth year crippled his strength. The qualities which we admire in them are a sort of apotheosis of the qualities which we need in ourselves. For we all are handicapped, some by ill-starred heredity, by unhappy environment, or by the consequences of our own neglect and sin; some by poverty, some by broken bodies, or by dissevered family ties--and all of us by unfortunate dispositions. It does us good then to know that Phillips Brooks failed as a teacher. His biographer tells us that so did his first ambition to be an educator cling to him, that in the prime of life, when he was the prince of preachers, he came from President Eliot's office, pale and trembling, because he had refused a professorship at Harvard. So Robertson, of Brighton, whose sermons began a new epoch in British Christianity, was prevented from being a soldier only by the feebleness of his body, and Sir Walter Scott, who wanted to be a poet, turned to novel writing, anonymously and tentatively trying a new role, because, as he frankly put it, "Because Byron beat me." He is an excellent cook who knows how to make a good dinner out of the left-overs, and hardly a more invigorating truth is taught by history than that most of the finest banquets spread for the delectation of the race have been prepared by men who made them out of the leavings of disappointed hopes. =Therefore let us also, seeing we are compassed about with so great a cloud of witnesses, lay aside every weight, and the sin which doth so easily beset us, and let us run with patience the race that is set before us, looking unto Jesus the author and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising shame, and hath sat down at the right hand of the throne of God. For consider him that hath endured such gainsaying of sinners against himself, that ye wax not weary, fainting in your souls.--Heb. 12:1-3.= _Our Father, we thank Thee that while we are sure of Thy protecting care, Thy causal providence, which foresees all things, we can bear the sorrows of this world, and do its duties, and endure its manifold and heavy cross. We thank Thee that when distress comes upon us, and our mortal schemes vanish into thin air, we know there is something solid which we can lay hold of, and not be frustrate in our hopes. Yea, we thank Thee that when death breaks asunder the slender thread of life whereon our family jewels are strung, and the precious stones of our affection fall from our arms or neck, we know Thou takest them and elsewhere givest them a heavenly setting, wherein they shine before the light of Thy presence as morning stars, brightening and brightening to more perfect glory, as they are transfigured by Thine own almighty power._ _We thank Thee for all the truth which the stream of time has brought to us from many a land and every age. We thank Thee for the noble examples of human nature which Thou hast raised up, that in times of darkness there are wise men, in times of doubt there are firm men, and in every peril there stand up heroes of the soul to teach us feebler men our duty, and to lead all of Thy children to trust in Thee. Father, we thank Thee that the seed of righteousness is never lost, but through many a deluge is carried safe, to make the wilderness to bloom and blossom with beauty ever fragrant and ever new, and the desert bear corn for men and sustain the souls of the feeble when they faint. Amen._--Theodore Parker. Sixth Week, Fifth Day One distinguishing mark of the men who have won their victories with the remnants of their defeat is that they refuse to describe their unideal conditions in negative terms. If they cannot live in southern California where they would choose to live, but must abide in New England instead, they do not describe New England in terms of its deficiencies--no orange groves, no acres of calla lilies, no palm trees. There are compensations even in New England, if one will carefully take account of stock and see what positively is there! Or if a man would choose to live in Boston and must live in Labrador, the case of Grenfell suggests that a positive attitude toward his necessity will discover worth, and material for splendid triumphs even on that inhospitable coast. The mark of the handicapped men who have made the race's history glorious has always been their patriotism for the country where they had to live. They do not stop long to pity themselves, or to envy another's opportunity, or to blame circumstances for their defeat, or to dream of what might have been, or to bewail their disappointed hopes. If the soil of their condition will not grow one crop, they discover what it will grow. They have insight, as did Moses, to see holy ground where an ordinary man would have seen only sand and sagebrush and sheep. =Now Moses was keeping the flock of Jethro his father-in-law, the priest of Midian: and he led the flock to the back of the wilderness, and came to the mountain of God, unto Horeb. And the angel of Jehovah appeared unto him in a flame of fire out of the midst of a bush: and he looked, and, behold, the bush burned with fire, and the bush was not consumed. And Moses said, I will turn aside now, and see this great sight, why the bush is not burnt. And when Jehovah saw that he turned aside to see, God called unto him out of the midst of the bush, and said, Moses, Moses. And he said, Here am I. And he said, Draw not nigh hither: put off thy shoes from off thy feet, for the place whereon thou standest is holy ground.--Exodus 3:1-5.= _Father of life, and God of the living, Fountain of our being and Light of all our day; we thank Thee for that knowledge of Thyself which lights our life with eternal splendor, for that giving of Thyself which has made us partakers of Thy divine nature. We bless Thee for everything around us which ministers Thee to our minds; for the greatness and glory of nature, for the history of our race, and the lives of noble men; for the thoughts of Thee expressed in human words, in the art of painters and musicians, in the work of builders and craftsmen. We bless Thee for the constant memories of what we are that rise within ourselves; for the pressure of duty, the hush of solemn thoughts, for moments of insight when the veil on the face of all things falls away, for hours of high resolve when life is quickened within, for seasons of communion when, earth and sense forgotten, heaven holds our silent spirits raptured and aflame._ _We have learned to praise Thee for the darker days when we had to walk by faith, for weary hours that strengthened patience and endeavor, for moments of gloom and times of depression which taught us to trust, not to changing tides of feeling, but to Thee who changest not. And now since Christ has won His throne by His cross of shame, risen from His tomb to reign forever in the hearts of men, we know that nothing can ever separate us from Thee; that in all conflicts we may be more than conquerors; that all dark and hostile things shall be transformed and work for good to those who know the secret of Thy love._ _Glory be to Thee, O Lord. Amen._--W. E. Orchard. Sixth Week, Sixth Day When folk have seen into human life deeply enough so that they perceive how adversity can be used to high issues, faith in God becomes not so much a speculative problem as a practical need. They want to deal with trouble nobly. They see that faith in God gives the outlook on life which makes the hopeful facing of adverse situations reasonable and which supplies power to make it possible. The result is that the _great sufferers have been the great believers_. The idea that fortunate circumstances make vital faith in God probable is utterly unsupported by history. Hardly an outstanding champion of faith who has left an indelible impress on man's spiritual life can anywhere be found, who has not won his faith and confirmed it in the face of trouble. What is true of individuals is true of generations. The days of Israel's triumphant faith did not come in Solomon's reign, when wealth was plentiful and national ambitions ran high. The great prophets and the great psalms stand out against the dark background of the Exile and its consequences. =Awake, awake, put on strength, O arm of Jehovah; awake, as in the days of old, the generations of ancient times. Is it not thou that didst cut Rahab in pieces, that didst pierce the monster? Is it not thou that driedst up the sea, the waters of the great deep; that madest the depths of the sea a way for the redeemed to pass over? And the ransomed of Jehovah shall return, and come with singing unto Zion; and everlasting joy shall be upon their heads: they shall obtain gladness and joy; and sorrow and sighing shall flee away.= =I, even I, am he that comforteth you: who art thou, that thou art afraid of man that shall die, and of the son of man that shall be made as grass; and hast forgotten Jehovah thy Maker, that stretched forth the heavens, and laid the foundations of the earth; and fearest continually all the day because of the fury of the oppressor, when he maketh ready to destroy? and where is the fury of the oppressor? The captive exile shall speedily be loosed; and he shall not die and go down into the pit, neither shall his bread fail. For I am Jehovah thy God, who stirreth up the sea, so that the waves thereof roar: Jehovah of hosts is his name. And I have put my words in thy mouth, and have covered thee in the shadow of my hand, that I may plant the heavens, and lay the foundations of the earth, and say unto Zion, Thou art my people.--Isa. 51:9-16.= That is a voice out of the Exile. Such great believers, whose faith shone brightest when the night was darkest, have not pretended to know the explanation of suffering in God's world. But they have had insight to see a little and trust for the rest. Stevenson has expressed their faith: "If I from my spy-hole, looking with purblind eyes upon a least part of a fraction of the universe, yet perceive in my own destiny some broken evidences of a plan, and some signals of an overruling goodness; shall I then be so mad as to complain that all cannot be deciphered? Shall I not rather wonder, with infinite and grateful surprise, that in so vast a scheme I seem to have been able to read, however little, and that little was encouraging to faith?" _We thank Thee, O God, that Thou dost ride upon the cloud, and govern the storm. All that to us is dark is light to Thee. The night shineth as the day. All that which seems to us irregular and ungoverned, is held in Thine hand, even as the steed by the rein. From age to age Thou dost control the long procession of events, discerning the end from the beginning; and all the wild mixture, all the confusion, all the sorrow and the suffering, is discerned of Thee. As is the palette to the color, as is violence to development in strength, as is the crushing of the grape to the wine, so in Thy sight all things are beneficent that to us are most confusing and seemingly conflicting and threatening. Sorrow and pain and disaster are woven in the loom of God; and in the end we, too, shall be permitted to discern the fair pattern, and understand how that which brought tears here shall bring righteousness there._ _O, how good it is to trust Thee, and to believe that Thou art wise, and that Thou art full of compassion, as Thou carriest on Thy great work of love and benevolence, sympathizing with all that suffer on the way, and gathering them at last with an exceeding great salvation! We trust Thee, not because we understand Thee, but because in many things Thou hast taught us where we should have been afraid to trust. We have crossed many a gulf and many a roaring stream upon the bridge of faith, and have exulted to find ourselves safe landed, and have learned to trust Thee, as a child a parent, as a passenger the master of a ship, not because we know, but because Thou knowest. Amen._--Henry Ward Beecher. Sixth Week, Seventh Day =Every one therefore that heareth these words of mine, and doeth them, shall be likened unto a wise man, who built his house upon the rock: and the rain descended, and the floods came, and the winds blew, and beat upon that house; and it fell not: for it was founded upon the rock. And every one that heareth these words of mine, and doeth them not, shall be likened unto a foolish man, who built his house upon the sand: and the rain descended, and the floods came, and the winds blew, and smote upon that house; and it fell: and great was the fall thereof.--Matt. 7:24-27.= An important fact is here asserted by the Master, which is commonly obscured in the commentaries. He says that no matter whether a man's life be built on sand or on rock, he yet will experience the blasts of adversity; on both houses alike "the rain descended, and the floods came, and the winds blew." The Master repeatedly affirmed that trouble comes without necessary reference to character, that while we may always argue that sin causes suffering, we never can confidently argue that suffering comes from sin (Luke 13:4; John 9:1-3). Folks needlessly and unscripturally harass their souls when they suppose that some special trouble must have befallen them because of some special sin. The book of Job was written to disprove that, and as for the Master, he distinctly says that the man of faith with his house on a rock faces the same storm that wrecks the faithless man. _The difference is not in the adversity, but in the adversity's effect._ No more important question faces any soul than this: seeing that trouble is an unevadable portion of every life, good or bad, what am I to do with it? Says Oliver Wendell Holmes, "Did you ever happen to see that most soft-spoken and velvet-handed steam-engine at the Mint? The smooth piston slides backward and forward as a lady might slip her delicate finger in and out of a ring. The engine lays one of its fingers calmly, but firmly, upon a bit of metal; it is a coin now, and will remember that touch, and tell a new race about it, when the date upon it is crusted over with twenty centuries. So it is that a great silent-moving misery puts a new stamp on us in an hour or a moment--as sharp an impression as if it had taken half a lifetime to engrave it." The only flaw in that simile is that the coin cannot decide what impression shall be made. But we can. Rebellion, despair, bitterness, or triumphant faith--we can say which impression adversity shall leave upon us. _O God of our life, whom we dimly apprehend and never can comprehend, to whom nevertheless we justly ascribe all goodness as well as all greatness; as a father teaches his children, so teach us, Lord, truer thoughts of Thee. Teach us to aspire, so far as man may lawfully aspire, to a knowledge of Thee. Thou art not only a God to be honored in times of rest and ease, Thou art also the Refuge of the distressed, the Comforter of the afflicted, the Healer of the contrite, and the Support of the unstable. As we sympathize with those who are sore smitten by calamity, wounded by sudden accident, wrecked in the midst of security, so must we believe that Thy mighty all-embracing heart sympathizes. Pitier of the orphan, God of the widow, cause us to share Thy pity and become Thy messengers of tenderness in our small measure. Be Thou the Stay of all in life and death. Teach all to know and trust Thee, give us a portion here and everywhere with Thy saints; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen._--Francis W. Newman, 1805. COMMENT FOR THE WEEK I Few who have sincerely tried to believe in God's goodness and who have lived long enough to face the harrowing facts of human wretchedness will doubt what obstacle most hampers faith. The major difficulty which perplexes many Christians, when they try to reconcile God's love with their experience, is not belief's irrationality but life's injustice. According to the Psalmist, "The fool hath said in his heart, 'There is no God'" (Psalm 14:1). But the fool is not the only one who has said that. He said it, jeering; he announced it in derision; he did not want God, and contemptuous denial was a joy. It was the temper of his negation that made him a fool. But many hearts, in tones far different from his, have said, "There is no God." Parents cry it brokenheartedly beside the graves of children; the diseased cry it, suffering from keener agony than they can bear; fathers cry it when their battle against poverty has failed and their children plead in vain for bread; and men who care about their kind say it as they watch the anguish with which war, drunkenness, lust, disease, and poverty afflict the race. No man of moral insight will call such folk fools. The wretchedness and squalor, the misery and sin which rest upon so much of humankind are a notorious difficulty in the way of faith. In dealing with this problem two short cuts are often tried, and by them some minds endeavor to evade the issue which faith ought to meet. Some _minimize the suffering_ which creation cost and which man and animals are now enduring. We must grant that when we read the experience of animals in terms of man's own life, we always exaggerate their pain. Animals never suffer as we do; their misery is not compounded by our mental agonies of regret and fear; and even their physical wretchedness is as much lower in intensity as their nerves are less exquisitely tuned. Darwin, who surely did not underestimate the struggle for existence, said in a letter, "According to my judgment, happiness decidedly prevails. All sentient beings have been formed so as to enjoy, as a general rule, happiness." We must grant also that man's practical attitude toward life gives the lie to pessimism. Only the suicides are the logical pessimists, and all the rest of men, most with good heart and multitudes with jubilant enthusiasm, do actually cling to life. Indeed, all normal men discover, that, within limits, their very hardships are a condition of their happiness and do not so much abate their love of life is they add zest and tang. We must grant further that suffering should be measured not by quantity, but by intensity. One sensitive man enduring bereavement, poverty, or disease represents _all_ the suffering that ever has been or ever can be felt. To speak of limitless suffering, therefore, is false. There is no more wretchedness anywhere nor in all the world together, than each one can know in his own person. When all this, however, has been granted, the facts of the world's misery are staggering. Modern science has given terrific sweep and harrowing detail to Paul's assertion, "The whole creation groaneth and travaileth in pain together until now" (Rom. 8:22). Let one whose insight into misery's meanings is quickened by even a little imagination, try to sum up the agony of drunkards' homes, of bereaved families, of hospitals, insane asylums, jails, and prisons, of war with its unmentionable horrors--its blinded, deafened, maddened, raped--and no small palliatives can solve his problem. Rather he understands the picture which James Russell Lowell said he saw years ago in Belgium: an angel holding back the Creator and saying, "If about to make such a world, stay thine hand." Another short cut by which some endeavor to simplify the problem and content their thought is _to lift responsibility for life's wretchedness from God's shoulders and to put it upon man's_. Were man's sin no factor in the world, some say, life's miseries would cease; all the anguish of our earthly lot stands not to God's responsibility but to man's shame. But the sufferings of God's creatures did not begin with man's arrival, and the pain of creation before man sinned is a longer story than earth's misery since. Let Romanes picture the scene: "Some hundred of millions of years ago, some millions of millions of animals must be supposed to have become sentient. Since that time till the present, there must have been millions and millions of generations of millions and millions of individuals. And throughout all this period of incalculable duration, this inconceivable host of sentient organizations have been in a state of unceasing battle, dread, ravin, pain. Looking to the outcome, we find that more than one-half of the species which have survived the ceaseless struggle are parasitic in their habits, lower and insentient forms of life, feasting on higher and sentient forms, we find teeth and talons whetted for slaughter, hooks and suckers molded for torture--everywhere a reign of terror, hunger, sickness, with oozing blood and quivering limbs, with gasping breath and eyes of innocence that dimly close in deaths of cruel torture." Is man responsible for that? For cold that freezes God's living creatures, for lightning that kills them, for volcanoes that burn them, for typhoons that crush them--is man responsible? By no such easy evasion may we escape the problem which faith must meet. "In sober truth," as John Stuart Mill exclaimed, "nearly all the things which men are hanged or imprisoned for doing to one another, are Nature's everyday performances." Who can avoid seeing the patent contrast between the Father of Jesus and the Creator of such a world? "The power that launches earthquakes and arms cuttlefish," said one perplexed believer, "has but a meager relationship to the power that blesses infants and forgives enemies." II Could we hold this problem at arm's length, discussing it in speculative moods when we grow curious about the makeup of the universe, our case would be more simple. But of all life's problems, this most certainly--sometimes creeping, sometimes crashing--invades our private lives. Every man has a date with adversity which he must keep and which adversity does not forget. One notes the evidence of this in every normally maturing life. As children we wanted happiness and were impatient, lacking it. Our cups of pleasure easily brimmed and overflowed. A Christmas tree or a birthday party--and our hearts were like sun-parlors on cloudless days with all the windows open to the light! But the time comes to all when happiness like this is not our problem; we recognize that it is gone; our Edens are behind us with flaming angels at the gate. We have had friends and lost them and something has gone from our hearts that does not return; we have won successes which we do not estimate as highly in possession as we did in dreams, and it may be have lost what little we achieved; we have sinned, and though forgiven, the scars are still upon us; we have been weathered by the rains and floods and winds. Happiness in the old fashion we no longer seek. We want peace, the power to possess our souls in patience and to do our work. We want joy, which is a profound and spiritually begotten grace as happiness is not. This maturity which so has faced the tragic aspects of our human life is not less desirable than childhood; it may be richer, fuller, steadier. We may think of it as Wordsworth did about the English landscape--that not for all the sunny skies of Italy would he give up the mists that spiritualize the English hills. But when trouble comes, life faces a new set of problems that childhood little knew. We have joined the human procession that moves out into the inevitable need of comfort and fortitude. The decisive crisis in many lives concerns the attitude which this experience evokes. Some are led by it more deeply into the meanings of religion. The Bible grows in their apprehension with the enlarging of their life; new passages become radiant as, in a great landscape, hills and valleys lately unillumined catch the rays of the rising sun. At first the human friendliness of Jesus is most real, and the Bible's stories of adventure for God's cause; then knightly calls to character and service become luminous; but soon or late another kind of passage grows meaningful: "Now our Lord Jesus Christ himself, and God, our Father who loved us and gave us eternal comfort and good hope through grace, comfort your hearts and establish them" (II Thess. 2:16). Others, so far from being led by adversity into the deeper meanings of faith, renounce faith altogether, and fling themselves into open rebellion against life and any God who may be responsible for its tragedy. They may not dare to say what James Thomson did, but they think it-- "Who is most wretched in this dolorous place? I think myself; yet I would rather be My miserable self than He, than He Who formed such creatures to his own disgrace. The vilest thing must be less vile than Thou From whom it had its being, God and Lord! Creator of all woe and sin! abhorred, Malignant and implacable! I vow That not for all Thy power furled and unfurled, For all the temples to Thy glory built, Would I assume the ignominious guilt Of having made such men in such a world!" Many, however, are not by adversity made more sure of God, nor are they driven into rebellion against him. They are perplexed. It had been so much easier, in the sheltered and innocent idealism of their youth, to believe in God than it is now. As children they looked on life as they might have listened to Mozart's music, ravished with unqualified delight; but now they know that Mozart died in abject poverty, that the coffin which his wife could not buy was donated by charity, that as the hearse went to the grave the driver loudly damned the dead because no drink money had been given him, and that to this day no one knows where Mozart's body lies. Maturity has to deal with so much more tragic facts than youth can ever know. With all the philosophy that man's wit can supply, the wisest find themselves saying what Emerson did, two years after his son's death: "I have had no experience, no progress to put me into better intelligence with my calamity than when it was new." And in this inevitable wrestling with adversity, the cry of men is not simply for more courage. They might easily steady their hearts to endure and overcome, were only one question's answer clear--is there any _sense_ in life's suffering? The one unsupportable thought is that all life's pain and hardship is meaningless and futile, that it has no worthy origin, serves no high purpose, that in misery we are the sport of forces that have no consciousness of what they do, no meaning in it and no care. Such folk want to believe in God, but--can they? III Two preliminary facts about Christianity's relationship with our problem may help to clarify our thought. The doubt sometimes obtrudes itself on minds perplexed about life's tragedies that the Christian's faith in a God of love is an idealistic dream. Such faiths as the Fatherhood of God have come to men, they think, in happy hours when calamity was absent or forgotten; they are the fruition of man's fortunate days. And born thus of a view of life from which the miseries of men had been shut out, this happy, ideal faith comes back to painful realities with a shock which it cannot sustain. But is Christian faith thus the child of man's happy days? Rather the very symbol of Christianity is the Cross. Our faith took its rise in one of history's most appalling tragedies, and the Gospel of a loving God, so far from being an ideal dream, conceived apart from life's forbidding facts, has all these centuries been intertwined with the public brutality of a crucifixion. Every emphasis of the Christian's faith has the mark of the Cross upon it. Jesus had said in words that God was love, but it was at Calvary that the words took fire: "God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten son" (John 3:16). Jesus had preached the divine forgiveness, but on Golgotha the message grew imperative: "God commendeth his own love toward us, in that, while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us" (Rom. 5:8). Jesus had put into parables the individual care of the Father for every child, but it was the Cross that drove the great faith home: Christ tasted "death for every man" (Heb. 2:9). Nothing in Christian faith has escaped the formative influence of the Tragedy. The last thing to be said about the Gospel is that it is a beautiful child-like dream which has not faced the facts of suffering. In the New Testament are all the miseries on which those who deny God's love count for support. We are at home there with suffering men: "they were stoned, they were sawn asunder, they were tempted, they were slain with the sword: they went about in sheepskins, in goatskins; being destitute, afflicted, ill-treated (of whom the world was not worthy), wandering in deserts and mountains and caves and the holes of the earth" (Heb. 11:37, 38). The men with whom Christianity began were not strangers to such trouble, so that some modern need remind their innocent and dreaming faith that life is filled with mysterious adversity. _Christianity was suckled on adversity; it was cradled in pain. At the heart of its Book and its Gospel is a Good Man crowned with thorns, nailed to a cross, with a spear wound in his side._ Nor have the great affirmations of faith in God's fatherhood ever been associated with men of ease in fortunate circumstance. The voice that cried "Father, into thy hands I commend my spirit" spoke in agonizing pain. And through history one finds those words best spoken with a cross for a background. Thomas á Becket said them, martyred in his own cathedral; John Huss said them, going to the stake at Constance; George Wishart said them, roasted at the foot of the sea-tower of St. Andrews. Christian faith is not a dream that came in hours when human trouble had been forgotten; it has furnished from the beginning an interpretation of human trouble and an attitude in meeting it that has made men "more than conquerors." The second preliminary fact is this: _Christianity has never pretended to supply a theoretical explanation of why suffering had to be_. This seeming lack has excellent reason, for such an explanation, if it be complete, is essentially beyond the reach of any finite mind. The most comprehensive question ever asked, some philosopher has said, was put by a child. "Why was there ever anything at all?" No finite mind can answer that. And next in comprehensiveness, and in penetration to the very pith of creation's meaning, is this query, "Why, if something had to be, was it made as it is?" One must be God himself fully to answer that, or to comprehend the answer, could it be written down. To expect therefore, from Christianity or from any other source a theoretical explanation that will plumb the depths of the mystery of suffering is to cry for the essentially impossible. So Carlyle says with typical vividness: "To the minnow every cranny and pebble, and quality and accident of its little native creek may have become familiar; but does the minnow understand the Ocean Tides and periodic Currents, the Trade-winds, and Monsoons, and Moon's Eclipses; by all which the condition of its little Creek is regulated, and may, from time to time (_un_-miraculously enough), be quite overset and reversed? Such a minnow is Man; his Creek this Planet Earth; his Ocean the immeasurable All; his Monsoons and periodic Currents the mysterious Course of Providence through Aeons of Aeons." So little is this inability of ours to know all that we wish about the world a cause for regret, that it ought to be an occasion of positive rejoicing. If _we_ could understand the universe through and through, how small and meager the universe would have to be! The fact is that we cannot understand anything through and through. If one is disheartened because he cannot pierce to the heart of Providence and know all its secrets, let him try his hand upon a pebble and see how much better he will fare. What is a pebble? If one define it roughly as granite he must ask what granite is; if that be defined in terms of chemical properties, he must ask what they are; if they be defined as ultimate forms of matter, he must inquire what matter is; and then he will be told that matter is a "mode of motion," or will be assured by a more candid scientist, like Professor Tait, that "we do not know and are probably incapable of discovering what matter _is_." No one ever solves the innermost problems of a stone, but what can be done with stones our engineering feats are evidence. If, therefore, we recognize at the beginning that the question why suffering had to be is an ultimate problem, essentially insoluble by finite minds, we need not be dismayed. Two opposing mysteries are in the world--goodness and evil. If we _deny_ God, then _goodness_ is a mystery, for no one has ever yet suggested how spiritual life could rise out of an unspiritual source, how souls could come from dust. If we _affirm_ God, then _evil_ is a mystery, for why, we ask, should love create a world with so much pain and sin? Our task is not to solve insoluble problems; it is to balance these alternatives--no God and the mystery of man's spiritual life, against God and the mystery of evil. Such a comparison is not altogether beyond our powers, nor are weighty considerations lacking to affect our choice. IV For one thing, we may well inquire, when we complain of this world's misery, what sort of world we are seeking in its place. Are we asking for a perfectly happy world? But happiness, at its deepest and its best, is not the portion of a cushioned life which never struggled, overpassed obstacles, bore hardship, or adventured in sacrifice for costly aims. A heart of joy is never found in luxuriously coddled lives, but in men and women who achieve and dare, who have tried their powers against antagonisms, who have met even sickness and bereavement and have tempered their souls in fire. Joy is begotten not chiefly from the impression of happy circumstance, but from the expression of overcoming power. Were we set upon making a happy world, therefore, we could not leave struggle out nor make adversity impossible. The unhappiest world conceivable by man would be a world with nothing hard to do, no conflicts to wage for ends worth while; a world where courage was not needed and sacrifice was a superfluity. Beside such an inane lotos-land of tranquil ease this present world with all its suffering is a paradise. Men in fact find joy where in philosophy we might not look for it. Said MacMillan, after a terrific twelve-month with Peary on the Arctic continent: "This has been the greatest year of my life." The impossibility of imagining a worth-while world from which adversity had all been banished is even more evident when one grows ill-content to think of happiness as the goal of life. That we should be merely happy is not an adequate end of the creative purpose for us, or of our purpose for ourselves. In our best hours we acknowledge this in the way we handle trouble. _However much in doubt a man may be about the theory of suffering, he knows infallibly how suffering practically should be met._ To be rebellious, cursing fate and hating life; to pity oneself, nursing one's hurts in morbid self-commiseration--the ignobility of such dealing with calamity we indubitably know. Even where we fall feebly short of the ideal, we have no question what the ideal is. When in biography or among our friends we see folk face crushing trouble, not embittered by it, made cynical, or thrust into despair, but hallowed, sweetened, illumined, and empowered, we are aware that noble characters do not alone _bear_ trouble; they _use_ it. As men at first faced electricity in dread, conceiving toward it no attitude beyond building lightning-rods to ward away its stroke, but now with greater understanding harness it to do their will, so men, as they grow wise and strong, deal with their suffering. They make it the minister of character; they set it to build in them what nothing save adversity can ever build--patience, courage, sympathy, and power. They even choose it in vicarious sacrifice for the good of others, and by it save the world from evils that nothing save some one's suffering could cure. They act as though _character_, not happiness, were the end of life. And when they are at their best they do this not with stoic intrepidity, as though trouble's usefulness were but their fancy, but joyfully, as though a good purpose in the world included trouble, even though not intending it. So Robert Louis Stevenson, facing death, writes to a friend about an old woman whose ventriloquism had frightened the natives of Vailima, "All the old women in the world might talk with their mouths shut and not frighten you or me, but there are plenty of other things that frighten us badly. And if we only knew about them, perhaps we should find them no more worthy to be feared than an old woman talking with her mouth shut. And the names of some of these things are Death and Pain and Sorrow." Whatever, then, may be our theoretical difficulty about suffering, this truth is clear: when we are at our best we practically deal with suffering as though moral quality were the goal of life. We _use_ adversity, as though discipline were its purpose and good its end. It is worth noting that the only theory which fully fits this noblest attitude toward trouble is Christianity. Men may think God a devil, as James Thomson sang, and yet may be practically brave and cheerful, but their theory does not fit their life. Men may believe in no God and no purpose in the world, and yet may face adversity with courage and hope, but their spirit belies their philosophy. When men are at their best in hardship _they act as though the Christian faith in God were true, as though moral quality were the purpose of creation_. If now, we really want a world in which character is the end and aim--and no other world is worth God's making--we obviously may not demand the abolition of adversity. If one imagines a life from its beginning lapped in ease and utterly ignorant what words like hardship, sorrow, and calamity imply, he must imagine a life lacking every virtue that makes human nature admirable. Character grows on struggle; without the overcoming of obstacles great quality in character is unthinkable. Whoever has handled well any calamitous event possesses resources, insights, wise attitudes, qualities of sympathy and power that by no other road could have come to him. For all our complaints against life's misery, therefore, and for all our inability to understand it in detail, who would not hesitate, foreseeing the consequence, to take adversity away from men? He who banishes hardship banishes hardihood; and out of the same door with Calamity walk Courage, Fortitude, Triumphant Faith, and Sacrificial Love. If we abolish the cross in the world, we make impossible the Christ in man. It becomes more clear the more one ponders it, that while this is often a hard world in which to be happy, to men of insight and faith it may be a great world in which to build character. V Before too confidently, however, we accept this conclusion, there is one objection to be heard. So far is the world from being absolved from cruelty, on the plea of moral purpose, one may say, that _its injustice is the very crux of its offense_. See how negligent of justice the process of creation is! Its volcanoes and typhoons slay good and bad alike, its plagues are utterly indifferent to character; and in the human world which it embosoms some drunken Caesar sits upon the throne while Christ hangs on the cross. Who for a single day can watch the gross inequities of life, where good men so often suffer and bad men go free, and still think that the world has moral purpose in it? The Bible itself is burdened with complaint against the seeming senselessness and injustice of God. Moses cries: "Lord, wherefore hast thou dealt ill with this people? Neither hast thou delivered thy people at all" (Exodus 5:22, 23); Elijah laments, "O Jehovah, my God, hast Thou also brought evil upon the widow, with whom I sojourn, by slaying her son?" (I Kings 17:20); Habakkuk complains, "Wherefore lookest thou upon them that deal treacherously, and holdest thy peace, when the wicked swalloweth up the man that is more righteous than he?" (Hab. 1:13); and Job protests, "Although thou knowest that I am not wicked, ... yet thou dost destroy me" (Job 10:7, 8). Man's loss of faith springs often from this utter disparity between desert and fortune. The time comes to almost every man when he looks on, indignant, desperate, at some gross horror uninterrupted, some innocent victim entreated cruelly. He understands Carlyle's impatient cry, "God sits in heaven and does nothing!" Natural as is this attitude, and unjust as many of life's tragic troubles are, we should at least see this: _man must not demand that goodness straightway receive its pay and wrong its punishment_. He may not ask that every virtuous deed be at once rewarded by proportionate happiness and every sin be immediately punished by proportionate pain. That, some might suppose, would put justice into life. But whatever it might put into life, such an arrangement obviously would take out _character_. The men whose moral quality we most highly honor were not paid for their goodness on Saturday night and did not expect to be. They chose their course _for righteousness' sake alone_, although they knew what crowns of thorns, what scornful crowds about their cross might end the journey. They did not drive close bargains with their fate, demanding insurance against trouble as the price of goodness. They chose the honorable deed for honor's sake; they chose it the more scrupulously, the more pleasure was offered for dishonor; their tone in the face of threatened suffering was like Milne's, Scotland's last martyr: "I will not recant the truth, for I am corn and no chaff; and I will not be blown away with the wind nor burst with the flail, but I will abide both." Every man is instinctively aware and by his admiration makes it known, that the kind of character which chooses right, willing to suffer for it, is man's noblest quality. The words in which such character has found utterance are man's spiritual battle cries. Esther, going before the King, saying, "If I perish, I perish" (Esther 4:16); the three Hebrews, facing the fiery furnace saying, "Our God whom we serve is able to deliver us from the burning fiery furnace; and he will deliver us out of thy hand, O king. But if _not_, be it known unto thee, O king, that we will not serve thy gods" (Dan. 3:17, 18); Peter and the apostles, facing the angry Council, saying, "We must obey God rather than men" (Acts 5:29); Anaxarchus, the martyr, crying, "Beat on at the case of Anaxarchus; Anaxarchus himself you cannot touch"; Luther, defying the Emperor, "Here stand I; I can do no other"--most words of men are easily dispensable, but no words like these can man afford to spare. They are his best. _And this sort of goodness has been possible, because God had not made the world as our complaints sometimes would have it._ For such character, a system where goodness costs is absolutely necessary. A world where goodness was paid cash in pleasant circumstance would have no such character to show. Right and wrong for their own sakes would be impossible; only prudence and imprudence for happiness' sake could there exist. Out of the same door with the seeming injustice of life goes the possibility of man's noblest quality--his goodness "in scorn of consequence." Many special calamities no one on earth can hope to understand. But when one has granted that fitness to grow character is the only worthy test of creation, it evidently is not so simple as at first it seemed to improve the fundamental structure of the world. VI Indeed, when one in imagination assumes the task of omnipotence and endeavors to construct a universe that shall be fitted for the growth of character, he cannot long hesitate concerning certain elements which must be there. _A system of regular law_ would have to be the basis of that world, for only in a law-abiding universe could obedience be taught. If the stars and planets behaved "like swarms of flies" and nothing could be relied upon to act twice in the same way, character and intelligence alike would be impossible. In this new world, remolded, "nearer to our heart's desire," _progress_ also would be a necessity. A stagnant world cannot grow character. There must be real work to do, aims to achieve; there must be imperfections to overpass and wrongs to right. Only in a system where the present situation is a point of departure and a better situation is a possibility, where ideal and hope, courage and sacrifice are indispensable can character grow. In this improved world of our dreams, _free-will_ in some measure must be granted man. If character is to be real, man must not in his choice between right and wrong be as Spinoza pictured him, a stone hurled through the air, which thinks that it is flying; he must have some control of conduct, some genuine, though limited, power of choice. And in this universe which we are planning for character's sake, individuals could not stand separate and unrelated; _they must be woven into a community_. Love which is the crown of character, lacking this, would be impossible. What happens to one must happen to all; good and ill alike must be contagious in a society where we are "members one of another." No one of these four elements could be omitted from a world whose test was its adaptability for character. Men with genuine power of choice, fused into a fellowship of social life, living in a law-abiding and progressive world--on no other terms imaginable to man could character be possible. _Yet these four things contain all the sources of our misery._ Physical law--what tragic issues its stern, unbending course brings with terrific incidence on man! Progress--how obviously it implies conditions imperfect, wrong, through which we have to struggle toward the best! Free-will--what a nightmare of horror man's misuse of it has caused since sin began! Social fellowship--how surely the innocent must suffer with the guilty, how impossible for any man to bear the consequence of his own sin alone! We may not see why these general conditions should involve the particular calamities which we bewail, but even our finite minds can see thus far into the mystery of suffering: _all our trouble springs from four basic factors in the universe, without any one of which, great character would be impossible_. While, therefore, if one _deny_ God, the mystery of goodness lacks both sense and solution; one may _affirm_ God and find the mystery of evil, mysterious still but suffused with light. God is working out a spiritual purpose here by means without which no spiritual purpose is conceivable. Fundamentally creation is good. We misuse it, we fail to understand its meaning and to appropriate its discipline, and impatient because the eternal purpose is not timed by our small clocks, we have to confess with Theodore Parker, "The trouble seems to be that God is not in a hurry and I am." In hours of insight, however, we perceive how little our complaints will stand the test of dispassionate thought. Our miseries are not God's inflictions on us as individuals, so that we may judge his character and his thought of us by this special favor or by that particular calamity. The most careless thinker feels the poor philosophy of Lord Londonderry's petulant entry in his journal: "Here I learned that Almighty God, for reasons best known to himself, had been pleased to burn down my house in the county of Durham." One must escape such narrow egoism if he is to understand the purposes of God; one must rise to look on a creation, with character at all costs for its aim, and countless æons for its settling. In the making of this world God has _limited himself_; he cannot lightly do what he will. He has limited himself in creating a law-abiding system where his children must learn obedience without special exemptions; in ordaining a progressive system where what _is_ is the frontier from which men seek what _ought to be_; in giving men the power to choose right, with its inevitable corollary, the power to choose wrong; in weaving men into a communal fellowship where none can escape the contagious life of all. What Martineau said of the first of these is true in spirit of them all: "The universality of law is God's eternal act of self limitation or abstinence from the movements of free affection, for the sake of a constancy that shall never falter or deceive." When once a man has risen to the vision of so splendid a purpose in so great a world, he rejoices in the outlook. Granted that now he sees in a mirror darkly, that many a cruel event in human life perplexes still--he has seen enough to give solid standing to his faith. What if an insect, someone has suggested, were born just after a thunderstorm began and died just before it stopped--how dark would be its picture of creation! But we who span a longer period of time, are not so obsessed by thunderstorms, although we may not like them. They have their place and serve their purpose; we see them in a broader perspective than an insect knows and on sultry days we even crave their coming. A broken doll is to a child a cruel tragedy, but to the father watching the child's struggle to accept the accident, to make the best of it and to come off conqueror, the event is not utterly undesirable. He is not glad at the child's suffering, but with his horizons he sees in it factors which she does not see. So God's horizons infinitely overpass our narrow outlooks. There is something more than whimsy in the theologian's saying, which President King reports, that an insect crawling up a column of the Parthenon, with difficulty and pain negotiating passage about a pore in the stone, is as well qualified to judge of the architecture of the Parthenon, as we of the infinitude of God's plans. Seeing as much as we have seen of sense and purpose in the structure of creation, we have seen all that our finite minds with small horizons could have hoped. We have gained ample justification for the attitude toward suffering which Dolly Winthrop in Silas Marner has immortalized: "Eh, there's trouble i' this world, and there's things as we can niver make out the rights on. And all as we've got to do is to trusten, Master Marner--to do the right thing as far as we know and to trusten. For if us, as knows so little, can see a bit o' good and rights, we may be sure as there's a good and a rights bigger nor what we can know--I feel it i' my own inside as it must be so." VII We may not truthfully leave our subject in such a case that faith's concern with human misery will seem to lie merely in giving adversity an explanation. Faith is concerned not alone to _explain_ misery but to _heal_ it. For while it is impossible without hardship to develop character, there are woeful calamities on earth that do not help man's moral quality; they crush and mutilate it; they are barbarous intruders on the plan of God and they have no business in his world. Some ills are such that no theory can reconcile them with the love of God and no man ought to desire such reconciliation; in the love of God they ought to be abolished. Slavery must be a possibility in a world where man is free; but God's goodness was not chiefly vindicated by such a theory of explanation. It was chiefly vindicated by slavery's abolishment. The liquor traffic and war, needless poverty in a world so rich, avoidable diseases that science can overcome--how long a list of woes there is that faith should not so much explain as banish! When some ills like drunkenness and war and economic injustice are thrust against our faith, and men ask that the goodness of God be reconciled with these, faith's first answer should be not speculation but action. Such woes, so far from being capable of reconciliation with God's goodness, are irreconcilable with a decent world. God does not want to be reconciled with them; he hates them "with a perfect hatred." We may not make ourselves patient with them by any theory of their necessity. They are not necessary; they are perversions of man's life; and _the best defense of faith is their annihilation_. Indeed, a man who, rebellious in complaint, has clamorously asked an explanation of life's ills as the price of faith in God, may well in shame consider God's real saints. When things were at their worst, when wrong was conqueror and evils that seemed blatantly to deny the love of God were in the saddle, these spiritual soldiers went out to fight. The winds of ill that blow out our flickering faith made their religion blaze--a pillar of fire in the night. The more evil they faced, the more religion they produced to answer it. They were the real believers, who "through faith subdued kingdoms, wrought righteousness, obtained promises." In comparison with such, it is obviously paltry business to drive a bargain with God that if all goes well we will believe in him, but if things look dark, then faith must go. Many a man, therefore, who is no philosopher can be a great defender of the faith. He may not weave arguments to prove that such a world as this in its fundamental structure is fitted to a moral purpose. But he can join the battle to banish from the world those ills that have no business here and that God hates. He can help produce that final defense of the Christian faith--a world where it is easier to believe in God. CHAPTER VII Faith and Science DAILY READINGS The intellectual difficulties which trouble many folk involve the relations of faith with science, but often they do not so much concern the abstract theories of science as they do the particular attitudes of scientists. We are continually faced with quotations from scientific specialists, in which religion is denied or doubted or treated contemptuously, and even while the merits of the case may be beyond the ordinary man's power of argument, he nevertheless is shaken by the general opinion that what ministers say in the pulpit on Sunday is denied by what scientists say all the rest of the week. In the daily readings, therefore, we shall deal with the scientists themselves, as a problem which faith must meet. Seventh Week, First Day No one can hope to deal fairly with the scientists, in their relationship with faith, unless he begins with a warm appreciation of the splendid integrity and self-denial which the scientific search for truth has revealed. =Canst thou bind the cluster of the Pleiades, Or loose the bands of Orion? Canst thou lead forth the Mazzaroth in their season? Or canst thou guide the Bear with her train? Knowest thou the ordinances of the heavens? Canst thou establish the dominion thereof in the earth? Canst thou lift up thy voice to the clouds, That abundance of waters may cover thee? Canst thou send forth lightnings, that they may go, And say unto thee, Here we are? Who hath put wisdom in the inward parts? Or who hath given understanding to the mind? Who can number the clouds by wisdom? Or who can pour out the bottles of heaven, When the dust runneth into a mass, And the clods cleave fast together?= =--Job 38:31-38.= Such is man's ancient wonder before the physical universe; and in the endeavor to discover the truth about it science has developed saints and martyrs whose selfless and sacrificial spirit is unsurpassed even in the annals of the Church. Men have spent lives of obscure and unrewarded toil to get at a few new facts; they have suffered persecution, and, even after torture, have reaffirmed the truth of their discoveries, as did Galileo, when he insisted, "The earth does move." They have surrendered place and wealth, friends and life itself in their passion for the sheer truth, and when human service was at stake have inoculated themselves with deadly diseases that they might be the means of discovering the cure, or have sacrificed everything that men hold most dear to destroy an ancient, popular, and hurtful fallacy. The phrase "pride of science" is often used in depreciation of the scientists. There is some excuse for the phrase, but in general, when one finds pride, dogmatism, intolerance, they are the work of ignorance and not of science. The scientific spirit has been characteristically humble. Says Huxley: "Science seems to me to teach in the highest and strongest manner the great truth which is embodied in the Christian conception of entire surrender to the will of God. Sit down before the fact as a little child, be prepared to give up every preconceived notion, follow humbly wherever and to whatever end nature leads, or you shall learn nothing.... I have only begun to learn content and peace of mind since I have resolved at all risks to do this." The Christian, above all others, is bound to approach the study of the controversy between science and theology with a high estimate of the integrity and disinterested unselfishness of the scientists. _O God, we thank Thee for the world in which Thou hast placed us, for the universe whose vastness is revealed in the blue depths of the sky, whose immensities are lit by shining stars beyond the strength of mind to follow. We thank Thee for every sacrament of beauty; for the sweetness of flowers, the solemnity of the stars, the sound of streams and swelling seas; for far-stretching lands and mighty mountains which rest and satisfy the soul, the purity of dawn which calls to holy dedication, the peace of evening which speaks of everlasting rest. May we not fear to make this world for a little while our home, since it is Thy creation and we ourselves are part of it. Help us humbly to learn its laws and trust its mighty powers._ _We thank Thee for the world within, deeper than we dare to look, higher than we care to climb; for the great kingdom of the mind and the silent spaces of the soul. Help us not to be afraid of ourselves, since we were made in Thy image, loved by Thee before the worlds began, and fashioned for Thy eternal habitation. May we be brave enough to bear the truth, strong enough to live in the light, glad to yield ourselves to Thee._ _We thank Thee for that world brighter and better than all, opened for us in the broken heart of the Saviour; for the universe of love and purity in Him, for the golden sunshine of His smile, the tender grace of His forgiveness, the red renewing rain and crimson flood of His great sacrifice. May we not shrink from its searching and surpassing glory, nor, when this world fades away, fear to commit ourselves to that world which shall be our everlasting home. Amen._--W. E. Orchard. Seventh Week, Second Day The Christian's appreciation of scientists should not stop short of profound gratitude for their service to religion. If one reads Burns's "Tam o' Shanter," with its "ghaists," "warlocks and witches," and "auld Nick," and remembers that these demonic powers were veritable facts of terror once, he will see in what a world of superstitious fear mankind has lived. Bells were first put into church steeples, not to call folk to worship, but to scare the devils out of thunder-clouds, and the old cathedral bells of Europe are inscribed with declarations of that purpose. The ancients hardly believed in God so vividly as they believed in malicious demons everywhere. Now the Gospel removed the _fear_ of these from the first Christians; it made men aware of a conquering alliance with God, so that believers no longer shared the popular dread of unknown demons. But so long as thunderstorms, pestilences, droughts, and every sort of evil were supposed to be the work of devils, even the Gospel could not dispel the general dread. Only new knowledge could do that. While Christianity therefore at its best has removed the _fear_ of evil spirits, science has removed the _fact_ of them as an oppressive weight on life. Today we not only do not dread them, but we do not think of them at all, and we have science to thank for our freedom. By its clear facing of facts and tracing of laws, science has lifted from man's soul an intolerable burden of misbeliefs and has cleansed religion of an oppressive mass of credulity. _True religion never had a deadlier foe than superstition and superstition has no deadlier foe than science._ Little children, brought up in our homes to trust the love of the Father, with no dark background of malignant devils to harass and frighten them, owe their liberty to the Gospel of Jesus indeed, but as well to the illumination of science that has banished the ancient dreads. =These things have I spoken unto you, while yet abiding with you. But the Comforter, even the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in my name, he shall teach you all things, and bring to your remembrance all that I said unto you. Peace I leave with you; my peace I give unto you: not as the world giveth, give I unto you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be fearful.--John 14:25-27.= _To God the Father, God the Son, God the Spirit, we pour forth most humble and hearty supplications, that He, remembering the calamities of mankind, and the pilgrimage of this our life in which we spend our days, would please to open to us new consolations out of the fountain of His goodness for the alleviating of our miseries. We humbly and earnestly ask that human things may not prejudice such as are Divine, so that from the opening of the gates of sense, and the kindling of a greater natural light, nothing of incredulity ... may arise in our minds towards Divine mysteries; but rather, O Lord, that our minds being thoroughly cleansed and purged from fancy, and yet subject to the Divine will, there may be given unto faith the things that are faith's, that so we may continually attain to a deeper knowledge and love of Thee, Who art the Fountain of Light, and dwellest in the Light which no man can approach unto; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen._--Francis Bacon, 1561. Seventh Week, Third Day If one approach the scientists, as we have suggested, with appreciation of their devoted spirit and of their beneficent service, he is likely to be fair and Christian in his judgment. For one thing, he will readily understand why some of them are not religious men. The laws of psychology are not suspended when religion is concerned; there as elsewhere persistent attention is the price of a vivid sense of reality. When, therefore, a man habitually thinks intensely of nothing but biological tissue, or chemical reactions, or the diseases of a special organ, the results are not difficult to forecast. Darwin's famous confession that in his exacting concentration on biology he utterly lost his power to appreciate music or poetry is a case in point. Said Darwin, "My mind seems to have become a kind of machine for grinding general laws out of a large collection of facts." It is needless to say that such a mind is not likely to be more vividly aware of God than it is to feel music's beauty or poetry's truth. The plain fact is that if any man should persistently restrict himself to a physical science, should never hear a symphony or an oratorio, should shut out from his experience any dealing with music or enjoyment of it, he would in the end lose all musical capacity, and would become a man whose appreciation of music was nil and whose opinion on music was worthless. _Just such an atrophy of life is characteristic of intense specialists._ When one understands this he becomes capable of intelligent sympathy with scientists, even when he does not at all agree with their religious opinions. Jude gives us a remarkable injunction, plainly applicable here. "On some have mercy who are in doubt." =But ye, beloved, building up yourselves on your most holy faith, praying in the Holy Spirit, keep yourselves in the love of God, looking for the mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ unto eternal life. And on some have mercy, who are in doubt; and some save, snatching them out of the fire; and on some have mercy with fear; hating even the garment spotted by the flesh.= =Now unto him that is able to guard you from stumbling, and to set you before the presence of his glory without blemish in exceeding joy, to the only God our Saviour, through Jesus Christ our Lord, be glory, majesty, dominion and power, before all time, and now, and for evermore. Amen.--Jude 20-25.= _O God, who so fillest all things that they only thinly veil Thy presence; we adore Thee in the beauty of the world, in the goodness of human hearts and in Thy thought within the mind. We praise Thee for the channels through which Thy grace can come to us; sickness and health, joy and pain, freedom and necessity, sunshine and rain, life and death._ _We thank Thee for all the gentle and healing ministries of life; the gladness of the morning, the freedom of the wind, the music of the rain, the joy of the sunshine, and the deep calm of the night; for trees, and flowers, the clouds, and skies; for the tender ministries of human love, the unselfishness of parents, the love that binds man and woman, the confidence of little children; for the patience of teachers and the encouragement of friends._ _We bless Thee for the stirring ministry of the past, for the story of noble deeds, the memory of holy men, the printed book, the painter's art, the poet's craft; most of all for the ministry of the Son of Man, who taught us the eternal beauty of earthly things, who by His life set us free from fear, and by His death won us from our sins to Thee; for His cradle, His cross, and His crown._ _May His Spirit live within us, conquer all the selfishness of man, and take away the sin of the world. Amen._--W. E. Orchard. Seventh Week, Fourth Day The tendency of scientific specialization to shut out the appreciation of life's other values has one notable result: the opinions of scientific specialists in the physical realm on matters of religion are generally not of major importance. There is a popular fallacy that an expert in one realm must be listened to with reverence on all subjects. But the fact is that a great physicist is not by his scientific eminence thereby qualified to talk wisely on politics or literature or religion; rather, so far as _a priori_ considerations are concerned, he is thereby disqualified. Mr. Edison cannot say anything on electricity that is insignificant; but when he gave an interview on immortality he revealed to everyone who knew the history of thought on that subject and the issues involved in it, that on matters outside his specialty he could say things very insignificant. The more one personally knows great specialists, the more he sees how human they are, how interest in one thing shuts out interest in others, how the subject on which the mind centers grows real and all else unreal, how very valuable their judgment is on their specialties, and how much less valuable even than ordinary men's is their judgment on anything beside. This truth does not concern religion only; it concerns any subject which calls into play appreciative faculties that their science does not use. For a man, therefore, to surrender religious faith because a specialist in another realm disowns it is absurd. If one wishes, outside of those whose vital interest in religion makes them specialists there, to get confirmation from another class of men, let him look not to physicists but to judges. They are accustomed to weigh evidence covering the general field of human life; and among the great judicial minds of this generation, as of all others, one finds an overwhelming preponderance of religious men. =But unto us God revealed them through the Spirit: for the Spirit searcheth all things, yea, the deep things of God. For who among men knoweth the things of a man, save the spirit of the man, which is in him? even so the things of God none knoweth, save the Spirit of God. But we received, not the spirit of the world, but the spirit which is from God; that we might know the things that were freely given to us of God. Which things also we speak, not in words which man's wisdom teacheth, but which the Spirit teacheth; combining spiritual things with spiritual words. Now the natural man receiveth not the things of the Spirit of God: for they are foolishness unto him; and he cannot know them, because they are spiritually judged.--I Cor. 2:10-14.= _O Eternal and glorious Lord God, since Thy glory and honor is the great end of all Thy works, we desire that it may be the beginning and end of all our prayers and services. Let Thy great Name be glorious, and glorified, and sanctified throughout the world. Let the knowledge of Thee fill all the earth as the waters cover the sea. Let that be done in the world that may most advance Thy glory. Let all Thy works praise Thee. Let Thy wisdom, power, justice, goodness, mercy, and truth be evident unto all mankind, that they may observe, acknowledge, and admire it, and magnify the Name of Thee, the Eternal God. In all the dispensation of Thy Providence, enable us to see Thee, and to sanctify Thy Name in our hearts with thankfulness, in our lips with thanksgiving, in our lives with dutifulness and obedience. Enable us to live to the honor of that great Name of Thine by which we are called, and that, as we profess ourselves to be Thy children, so we may study and sincerely endeavor to be like Thee in all goodness and righteousness, that we may thereby bring glory to Thee our Father which art in heaven; that we and all mankind may have high and honorable thoughts concerning Thee, in some measure suitable to Thy glory, majesty, goodness, wisdom, bounty, and purity, and may in all our words and actions manifest these inward thoughts touching Thee with suitable and becoming words and actions; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen._--Lord Chief Justice Sir Matthew Hale, 1609. Seventh Week, Fifth Day So far in our thought we have tacitly consented to the popular supposition, that the scientists are at odds with religion. Many of them unquestionably are. But in view of the obsessing nature of scientific specialties, the wonder is not that some scientists are non-religious; the wonder is that so many are profoundly men of faith in God. The idea that scientists as a whole are irreligious is untrue. Lists of testimonials from eminent specialists in favor of religion are not particularly useful, for, as we have said, the judgment of specialists outside their chosen realm is, at the most, no more valuable than that of ordinary men. But if anyone tries to rest his case against religion on the adverse opinions of great scientists, he easily can be driven from his position. Sir William Crookes, one of the world's greatest chemists, writes: "I cannot imagine the possibility of anyone with ordinary intelligence entertaining the least doubt as to the existence of a God--a Law-Giver and a Life-Giver." Lord Kelvin, called the "Napoleon of Science," said that he could think of nothing so absurd as atheism; Sir Oliver Lodge, perhaps the greatest living physicist and certainly an earnest believer, writes, "The tendency of science, whatever it is, is not in an irreligious direction at the present time"; Sir George Stokes, the great physicist (died 1903), affirmed his belief that disbelievers among men of science "form a very small minority"; and Sir James Geikie, Dean of the Faculty of Science at Edinburgh University, impatiently writes, "It is simply an impertinence to say that 'the leading scientists are irreligious or anti-Christian.' Such a statement could only be made by some scatter-brained chatterbox or zealous fanatic." The fact is that, in spite of the tendency of high specialization to crowd out religious interest and insight, our great scientists have never thrown the mass of their influence against religion, and today, in the opinion of one of their chief leaders, are growing to be increasingly men of religious spirit. Whatever argument is to be based on the testimony of the scientists is rather for religion than against it. =For this cause I also, having heard of the faith in the Lord Jesus which is among you, and the love which ye show toward all the saints, cease not to give thanks for you, making mention of you in my prayers; that the God of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of glory, may give unto you a spirit of wisdom and revelation in the knowledge of him; having the eyes of your heart enlightened, that ye may know what is the hope of his calling, what the riches of the glory of his inheritance in the saints, and what the exceeding greatness of his power to us-ward who believe.--Eph. 1:15-19.= _O Lord, who by Thy holy Apostle hast taught us to do all things in the Name of the Lord Jesus and to Thy glory; give Thy blessing, we pray Thee, to this our work, that we may do it in faith, and heartily, as to the Lord, and not unto men. All our powers of body and mind are Thine, and we would fain devote them to Thy service. Sanctify them and the work in which we are engaged; let us not be slothful, but fervent in spirit, and do Thou, O Lord, so bless our efforts that they may bring forth in us the fruit of true wisdom. Strengthen the faculties of our minds, and dispose us to exert them for Thy glory and for the furtherance of Thy Kingdom. Save us from all pride and vanity and reliance upon our own power or wisdom. Teach us to seek after truth, and enable us to gain it; while we know earthly things, may we know Thee, and be known by Thee through and in Thy Son Jesus Christ, that we may be Thine in body and spirit, in all our work and undertakings; through Jesus Christ. Amen._--Thomas Arnold, 1795. Seventh Week, Sixth Day Far more important than the opinions of individual scientists for religion or against it, is the fact that scientists are coming increasingly to recognize the limitations of their field. The field of science _is_ limited; its domain is the system of facts and their laws, which make the immediate environment of man's life; but with the Origin of all life, with the character of the Power that sustains us and with the Destiny that lies ahead of us science does not, cannot deal. The most superficial observance shows how little any great soul lives within the confines of science's discoveries. Carlyle, after his great bereavement, writes to his friend Erskine: "'Our Father which art in heaven, hallowed be Thy name, Thy will be done'--what else can we say? The other night in my sleepless tossings about, which were growing more and more miserable, these words, that brief and grand Prayer, came strangely to my mind, with an altogether new emphasis; as if written and shining for me in mild pure splendor, on the black bosom of the Night there; when I, as it were, read them word by word--with a sudden check to my imperfect wanderings, with a sudden softness of composure which was much unexpected. Not for perhaps thirty or forty years had I once formally repeated that prayer--nay, I never felt before how intensely the voice of man's soul it is; the inmost aspiration of all that is high and pious in poor human nature." But supposing that the facts of science were all of reality and the laws of science all of truth, what sort of prayer could Carlyle have offered? Another has suggested the form which the Lord's Prayer would take in a world that lacked religious faith: "Our brethren who are upon the earth, hallowed be our name; our Kingdom come; our will be done on earth; for there is no heaven. We must get us this day our daily bread; we know we cannot be forgiven, for Law knows no forgiveness; we fear not temptation, for we deliver ourselves from evil; for ours is the Kingdom and ours is the power, and there is no glory and no forever. Amen." In such a barren prayer _the whole of man's life is not represented_. =Let no man deceive himself. If any man thinketh that he is wise among you in this world, let him become a fool, that he may become wise. For the wisdom of this world is foolishness with God. For it is written, He that taketh the wise in their craftiness: and again, The Lord knoweth the reasonings of the wise, that they are vain. Wherefore let no one glory in men. For all things are yours; whether Paul, or Apollos, or Cephas, or the world, or life, or death, or things present, or things to come; all are yours; and ye are Christ's; and Christ is God's.--I Cor. 3:18-23.= _O Thou Infinite Spirit, who occupiest all space, who guidest all motion, thyself unchanged, and art the life of all that lives, we flee unto thee, in whom we also live and move and have our being, and would reverence Thee with what is highest and holiest in our soul. We know that Thou art not to be worshiped as though Thou needest aught, or askedst the psalm of praise from our lips, or our heart's poor prayer. O Lord, the ground under our feet, and the seas which whelm it round, the air which holds them both, and the heavens sparkling with many a fire--these are a whisper of the psalm of praise which creation sends forth to Thee, and we know that Thou askest no homage of bended knee, nor heart bowed down, nor heart uplifted unto Thee. But in our feebleness and our darkness, dependent on Thee for all things, we lift up our eyes unto Thee; as a little child to the father and mother who guide him by their hands, so do our eyes look up to Thy countenance, O Thou who art our Father and our Mother too, and bless Thee for all Thy gifts. We look to the infinity of Thy perfection with awe-touched heart, and we adore the sublimity which we cannot comprehend. We bow down before Thee, and would renew our sense of gratitude and quicken still more our certainty of trust, till we feel Thee a presence close to our heart, and are so strong in the heavenly confidence that nothing earthly can disturb us or make us fear. Amen._--Theodore Parker. Seventh Week, Seventh Day The difficulty which many Christians feel concerning science centers around their loyalty to the Bible. They still are under the domination of the thought that the Christian idea of the Bible is the same as the Mohammedan idea of the Koran or the Mormon idea of Joseph Smith's sacred plates. The Koran was all written in heaven, word for word, say orthodox Mohammedans, before ever it came to earth. As for the Mormon Bible, God buried the plates on which he wrote, said Smith, and then disclosed their hiding place, and his prophet translated them verbatim, so that the Mormon book is literally inerrant. But this is not the Christian idea of the Bible. Inspiration is never represented in Scripture as verbal dictation where human powers and limitations are suspended, so that like a phonographic plate the result is a mechanical reproduction of the words of God. Rather God spoke to men through their experience as they were able to understand him, and as a result the great Christian Book, like a true Christian man, represents alike the inbreathing of the Divine and the limitation of the human. So the Epistle to the Hebrews clearly states that God did what he could in revealing partially to partial men what they could understand: =God, having of old time spoken unto the fathers in the prophets by divers portions and in divers manners, hath at the end of these days spoken unto us in his Son, whom he appointed heir of all things, through whom also he made the worlds.--Heb. 1:1, 2.= Of all limitations that are entirely obvious in the ancient Hebrew-Christian world, the current view of the physical universe is the most unescapable. To suppose that God never can reveal to men anything about the world, transcending what the ancient Hebrews could understand, is to deny the principle which Jesus applied even to the more important realm of spiritual truth: "I have yet many things to say unto you, but ye cannot bear them now" (John 16:12). _O Thou who hast visited us with the Dayspring from on high, who hast made light to shine in the darkness, we praise Thy holy name and proclaim Thy wonderful goodness._ _We bless Thee for the dawning of the light in far-off ages as soon as human eyes could bear its rays. We remember those who bore aloft the torch of truth when all was false and full of shame; those far-sighted souls who from the mountain tops of vision heralded the coming day; those who labored in the darkened valleys to lift men's eyes to the hills._ _We thank Thee that in the fulness of the times Thou didst gather Thy light into life, so that even simple folk could see; for Jesus the Star of the morning and the Light of the world._ _We commemorate His holy nativity, His lowly toil, His lonely way; the gracious words of His lips, the deep compassion of His heart, His friendship for the fallen, His love for the outcast; the crown of thorns, the cruel cross, the open shame. And we rejoice to know as He was here on earth, so Thou art eternally. Thou dost not abhor our flesh, nor shrink from our earthly toil. Thou rememberest our frailty, bearest with our sin, and tastest even our bitter cup of death._ _And now we rejoice for the light that shines about our daily path from the cradle to the grave, and for the light that illumines its circuit beyond these spheres from our conception in Thy mind to the day when we wake in Thy image; for the breathing of Thy spirit into ours till we see Thee face to face: in God, from God; to God at last. Hallelujah. Amen._--W. E. Orchard. COMMENT FOR THE WEEK I The innermost questions which some minds raise about religion cannot be answered without candid discussion of the obvious contrasts between faith and science. The conflict between science and theology is one of the saddest stories ever written. It is a record of mutual misunderstanding, of bitterness, bigotry, and persecution, and to this day one is likely to find the devotees of religion suspicious of science and scientists impatient with the Church. If we are to understand the reason for this controversy between science and theology, we must take a far look back into man's history. Stephen Leacock remarks that whenever a professor discusses anything, he has to retreat at least 2,000 years to get a running start. Our retreat must be farther than that; it carries us to the earliest stage in which we are able to describe the thoughts of men. _At the beginning men attributed to superhuman spirits all activities in the world which they themselves did not perform._ If the wind blew, a spirit did it; if the sun rose, a spirit moved it; if a storm came, a spirit drove it. Natural law was non-existent to the primitive man; every movement in nature was the direct result of somebody's active will. From the mysterious whispering of a wind-swept field to the crashing thunder, what man did not cause the gods did. If, therefore, a primitive man were asked the cause of rain, he had but one answer: a god made it rain. That was his _scientific_ answer, for no other explanation of rain could he conceive. That was his _religious_ answer, for he worshiped the spirit on whom he must depend for showers. This significant fact, therefore, stands clear: _To primitive man a religious answer and a scientific answer were identical._ Sunrise was explained, not by planetary movements which were unknown, but by the direct activity of a god, and the Dawn then was worshipped in the same terms in which it was explained. The historic reason for the confusion between science and religion at once grows evident. _At the beginning they were fused and braided into one; the story of their relationship is the record of their gradual and difficult disentangling._ Wherever peace has come between science and religion, one finds a realm where the boundaries between the two are acknowledged and respected. Ask _now_ the question, What makes it rain? There is a scientific answer in terms of natural laws concerning atmospheric pressure and condensation. There is also a religious answer, since behind all laws and through them runs the will of God. These two replies are distinct, they move in different realms, and are held together without inconsistency. As Sabatier put it, "Since God is the final cause of all things, he is not the scientific explanation of any one thing." In how many realms where once confusion reigned between the believers in the gods and the seekers after natural laws, is peace now established! Rain and sunrise, the tides and the eclipses, the coming of the seasons and the growing of the crops--for all such events we have our scientific explanations, and at the same time through them all the man of religion feels the creative power of God. Peace reigns in these realms because here _no longer do we force religious answers on scientific questions or scientific answers on religious questions_. Evidently the old Deuteronomic law is the solution of the conflict between science and religion: "Cursed be he that removeth his neighbor's landmark" (Deut. 27:17). II Left thus in the negative, however, this might seem to mean that we are to divide our minds into air-tight compartments, and allow no influences from one to penetrate another. But science and religion do tremendously affect each other, and no honest dealing ever can endeavor to prevent their mutual reaction. Our position is not thus negative; it affirms a positive and most important truth. Life has many aspects; science, art, religion, approach it from different angles, with different interests and purposes; and while they do _influence_ each other, they are not _identical_ and each has solid standing in its own right. When science has grown domineering, as though her approach to reality were the only one and her conclusions all of truth, the poets have had as much distaste for her as have the theologians. Shelley, who called himself an atheist, had no interest in religion's conflict with the extreme claims of science; yet listen to his aroused and flaming language as he pleads the case for poetry against her: "Poetry is something divine.... It is the perfect and consummate surface and bloom of all things; it is as the odor and color of the rose to the texture of the elements which compose it, and the form and splendor of unfaded beauty to the secrets of anatomy and corruption. What were virtue, love, patriotism, friendship--what were the scenery of this beautiful universe which we inhabit; what were our consolations on this side of the grave--and what were our aspirations beyond it, if poetry did not ascend to bring light and fire from those eternal regions where the owl-winged faculty of calculation dare not even soar?" This involves no denial of science's absolute right to her own field--the "texture of the elements which compose" the rose, and the "secrets of anatomy." But it is a justified assertion that this field of science is not all of reality, and that what the "owl-winged faculty of calculation" can reach is not all of truth. What is a sunset? Science sets forth the answer in tables where the light waves that compose the colors are counted and the planetary movements that bring on the dusk are all explained. Poetry answers in a way how different! "I've dreamed of sunsets when the sun, supine, Lay rocking on the ocean like a god, And threw his weary arms far up the sky, And with vermilion-tinted fingers, Toyed with the long tresses of the evening star."[4] Is one of these answers more true than the other? Rather it is absurd to compare their truth; they are not contradictory; they approach the same fact with diverse interests, and seek in it different aspects of reality. Each has its rights in its own field. And so far is it from being true that science has a clear case in favor of its own superior importance, that Höffding, the philosopher, remarks, "It well may be that poetry gives more perfect expression to the highest Reality than any scientific concept can ever do." Any great fact is too manifold in its meanings to be exhausted by a single method of approach. If one would know the Bible thoroughly, he must understand the rules of grammar. Were one to make grammar his exclusive specialty, the Bible to him, so far as he held strictly to his science, would be nouns and verbs, adverbs, adjectives, and prepositions, and the law-abiding relationships between them. This mere grammarian would know by such a method one aspect of the Bible, but how little of the Book would that aspect be! No rules of grammar can interpret the thirteenth chapter of First Corinthians or explain the story of the Cross. The facts and laws of the Book's language a grammarian could know, but the beauty and the soul of it, the innermost transforming truth of it, would be unperceived. So life is too rich and various to be exhausted by any one approach. Science seeks facts and arranges them in systems of cause and effect. Poetry sees these bare facts adorned with beauty, she suffuses them with her preferences and her appreciations. Religion sees the whole gathered up into spiritual unity, filled with moral purpose and good will, and in this faith finds peace and power. There need be no conflict between these various approaches; they are complementary, not antagonistic; and no man sees all the truth by any one of them alone. So a chemist might come to a spring to analyze it; a painter to rejoice in its beauties and reproduce them on his canvas; and a man athirst might come to drink and live. Shall they quarrel because they do not all come alike? Let them rather see how partial is the experience of each without the others! III In the mutual trespassing which has caused our problem, religion has had her guilty share, and the reason is not difficult to find. God did not have to give a modern scientific education to his ancient Hebrew saints before he could begin to reveal to them something of his will and character. And they, writing their experience and thought of him, could not avoid--as no generation's writers can avoid--indicating the view of the physical world which they and their contemporaries held. It is easy, therefore, from scores of Scripture passages to reconstruct the early Hebrew world. Their earth was flat and was founded on an underlying sea. (Psalm 136:6; Psalm 24:1, 2; Gen. 7:11); it was stationary (Psalm 93:1; Psalm 104:5); the heavens, like an upturned bowl, "strong as a molten mirror" (Job 37:18; Gen. 1:6-8; Isa. 40:22; Psalm 104:2), rested on the earth beneath (Amos 9:6; Job 26:11); the sun, moon, and stars moved within this firmament, of special purpose to illumine man (Gen. 1:14-19); there was a sea above the sky, "the waters which were above the firmament" (Gen. 1:7; Psalm 148:4), and through the "windows of heaven" the rain came down (Gen. 7:11; Psalm 78:23); beneath the earth was mysterious Sheol where dwelt the shadowy dead (Isa. 14:9-11); and all this had been made in six days, a short and measurable time before (Gen. 1). This was the world of the Hebrews. Because when the Hebrews wrote the Bible their thoughts of God, their deep experience of him, were interwoven with their early science, Christians, through the centuries, have thought that faith in God stood or fell with early Hebrew science and that the Hebrew view of the physical universe must last forever. In the seventeenth century, Dr. John Lightfoot, Vice-Chancellor of the University of Cambridge, said: "Heaven and earth, center and circumference, were created all together, in the same instant, and clouds full of water.... This work took place and man was created by the Trinity on October 23, 4004 B. C., at nine o'clock in the morning." Of what tragedy has this identification of science with religion been the cause! When _astronomy_ began to revolutionize man's idea of the solar universe, when for the first time in man's imagination the flat earth grew round and the stable earth began moving through space seventy-five times faster than a cannon-ball, Pope Paul V solemnly rendered a decree, that "the doctrine of the double motion of the earth about its axis and about the sun is false and entirely contrary to Holy Scripture." When _geology_ began to show from the rocks' unimpeachable testimony the long leisureliness of God, laying the foundations of the world, a Christian leader declared geology "not a subject of lawful inquiry," "a dark art," "dangerous and disreputable," "a forbidden province," "an awful evasion of the testimony of revelation." This tragic record of theology's vain conflict with science is the most pitiable part of the Church's story. How needless it was! For now when we face our universe of magnificent distances and regal laws has religion really suffered? Has a flat and stationary earth proved essential to Christianity, as Protestants and Catholics alike declared? Rather the Psalmist could not guess the sweep of our meaning when now we say, "The heavens declare the glory of God and the firmament showeth his handiwork" (Psalm 19:1). In the last generation the idea of _evolution_ was the occasion of a struggle like that which attended the introduction of the new astronomy. How was the world made? asked the ancient Hebrew, and he answered, By the word of God at a stroke. That was his scientific answer, and his religious answer too. When, therefore, the evolving universe was disclosed by modern science, when men read in fossil and in living biological structure the undeniable evidence of a long history of gradually changing forms of life, until the world was seen _not made like a box but growing like a tree_, many men of religion thought the faith destroyed. They identified the Christian Gospel with early Hebrew science! Today, however, when the general idea of evolution is taken for granted as gravitation is, how false this identification obviously appears! Says Professor Bowne, "An Eastern king was seated in a garden, and one of his counselors was speaking of the wonderful works of God. 'Show me a sign,' said the king, 'and I will believe.' 'Here are four acorns,' said the counselor; 'will your Majesty plant them in the ground, and then stoop down and look into this clear pool of water?' The king did so. 'Now,' said the other, 'Look up.' The king looked up and saw four oak trees where he had planted the acorns. 'Wonderful!' he exclaimed; 'this is indeed the work of God.' 'How long were you looking into the water?' asked the counselor. 'Only a second,' said the king. 'Eighty years have passed as a second,' said the other. The king looked at his garments; they were threadbare. He looked at his reflection in the water; he had become an old man. 'There is no miracle here, then,' he said angrily. 'Yes,' said the other; 'it is God's work whether he do it in one second or in eighty years.'" Such an attitude as this is now a commonplace with Christian folk. A vast and growing universe through which sweep the purposes of God is by far the most magnificent outlook for faith that man has ever had. The Gospel and Hebrew science are _not_ identical; the Gospel is not indissolubly bound to any science ancient or modern; for science and religion have separable domains. "A fire-mist and a planet, A crystal and a cell, A jelly-fish and a saurian, And caves where cave men dwell. Then a sense of Love and Duty And a face turned from the clod, Some call it Evolution And others--call it God." The same story of needless antagonism is now being written about religion and _natural law_. When science began plotting nature's laws, the control of the world seemed to be snatched from the hands of deity and given over to a system of impersonal rules. God, whose action had been defined in terms of miracle, was forced from one realm after another by the discovery of laws, until at last even comets were found to be not whimsical but as regular in their law-abiding courses as the planets, and God seemed to be escorted to the edge of the universe and bowed out. When Newton first formulated the law of gravitation, the artillery of many an earnest pulpit was let loose against him. One said that Newton took "from God that direct action on his works so constantly ascribed to him in Scripture and transferred it to material mechanism" and that he "substituted gravitation for Providence." But now, when science has so plainly won her case, in her own proper field; when we know to our glory and profit so many laws by which the world is governed, and use our knowledge as the most splendid engine of personal purpose and freedom which man ever had, we see how great our gain has been. _Nor is it more a practical than a religious gain._ God once was thought of chiefly in terms of miraculous action; he came into his world now and again, like the _deus-ex-machina_ of a Greek tragedy, to solve a critical dilemma in the plot. Now all the laws we know and many more are his regular ways of action, and through them all continuously his purpose is being wrought. As Henry Drummond exclaimed, "If God appears periodically, he disappears periodically. If he comes upon the scene at special crises, he is absent from the scene in the intervals. Whether is all-God or occasional God the nobler theory?" Nothing, therefore, can be more pathetic than the self-styled "defenders of the faith" who withstand the purpose of reverent students to give scientific answers to scientific questions. Such men are not really defending the faith. They are doing exactly what Father Inchofer did when he said, "The opinion that the earth moves is of all heresies the most abominable"; what Mr. Gosse did when he maintained, in explanation of geology's discoveries, that God by the use of stratified rock and fossils deliberately gave the earth the _appearance_ of development through long ages, while really he made it in six days; what Mr. Southall did when, in the face of established anthropology, he claimed that the "Egyptians had no Stone age and were born civilized"; what the Dean of Chichester did when he preached that "those who refuse to accept the history of the creation of our first parents according to its obvious literal intention, and are for substituting the modern dream of evolution in its place, cause the entire scheme of man's salvation to collapse." These were not defending the faith; they were making it ridiculous in the eyes of intelligent men and were embroiling religion in controversies where she did not belong and where, out of her proper realm, she was foredoomed to defeat. _For scientific problems are not a matter for faith; they are a matter for investigation._ No one can settle by faith the movements of the planets, the method of the earth's formation, the age of mankind, the explanation of comets. These lie in science's realm, not in religion's, and religious faith demeans herself when she tries to settle them. Let science be the grammarian of the world to observe its parts of speech and their relations! Religion deals with the soul of the world, its deepest source, its spiritual meaning, its divine purpose. IV Science, however, has not always been content with the grammarian's task. When we have frankly confessed religion's sins in trespassing on scientific territory, we must note that _science has her guilty share in the needless conflict_. Today one suspects that the Church's vain endeavor by ecclesiastical authority to force religious solutions on scientific problems is almost over. But the attempt of many scientists to claim the whole field of reality as theirs and to force their solutions on every sort of problem is not yet finished. This, too, is a vain endeavor. To suppose that the process of scientific observation and inference can exhaust the truth of life is like supposing that there is no more meaning in Westminster Abbey than is expressed in Baedeker. Scientists, for example, sometimes claim domains which are not theirs by _spelling abstract nouns with capitals, by positing Law or Evolution as the makers and builders of the world_. But law never did anything; law is only man's statement of the way, according to his observation, in which things are done. To explain the universe as the creation of Law is on a par with explaining homes as the creation of Matrimony. Abstract nouns do not create anything and the capitalizing of a process never can explain it. So, too, Evolution does nothing to the world; it is the way in which whoever makes the world is making it. As well explain the difference between an acorn and an oak by saying that Growth did it, as to explain the progress of creation from stardust to civilization by changing e to E. Science may describe the process as evolutionary, but its source, its moving power, and its destiny are utterly beyond her ken. For another thing, scientists often invade realms which are not theirs, _by stretching the working theories of some special science to the proportions of a complete philosophy of life_. A generation ago, when geology and biology were in their "green and salad days," the enthusiasm inspired by the splendid results of their hypotheses went to strange lengths. One professor of geology seriously explained the pyramids of Egypt to be the remains of volcanic eruption which had forced its way upwards by slow and stately motion. The hieroglyphs were crystalline formations and the shaft of the great pyramid was the airhole of a volcano. Scientists are human like all men; their specialties loom large; the ideas that work in their limited areas seem omnipotent. So a student of the influence of sunlight on life thinks reactions to the sun explain everything. "Heliotropism," he says, "doubtless wrote Hamlet." A specialist on the influence of geography on human nature interprets everything as the reaction of man to seas, mountains, plains, and deserts, and Lombroso even thinks the revolutionary temperament especially native to men who live on limestone formations! Specialists in economic history are sure that man is little more than an animated nucleus of hunger and that all life is explicable as a search for food. And psychologists, charmed by the neatness of description which causal connections introduce into our inner life, leap to the conclusion, which lies outside their realm, that personality is an illusion, freedom a myth and our mental life the rattling of a causal chain forged and set in motion when the universe began. _All this is not science; it is making hypotheses from a limited field of facts masquerade as a total philosophy of life._ The underlying reason why science, when she regards her province as covering everything, inevitably clashes with the interests of religion, is that _she starts her view of the world from the sub-human side_. The typical sciences are physics, chemistry, astronomy, geology, biology, and the view of the universe which they present is the basis on which all other sciences proceed. But this foundation is sub-human; the master ideas involved in it are all obtained with the life of man left out of account. Such an approach presents a world-machine, immense and regular, and when, later, psychology and sociology arise, how easy it is to call the human life which they study a by-product of the sub-human world, an exudation arising from the activities of matter. Religion, on the contrary, _starts with human life_. Fall down in awe, Science cries, before this vast sub-human world! And the religious man answers: What world is this I am to bow before? Is it not the universe which my mind knows and whose laws my intellect has grasped? This universe, so far as it exists at all for me, is apprehended by my vision, penetrated by my thought, encompassed by my interpretations. _What is really great and wonderful here, is not the world which I understand, but the mind that understands it--not the sub-human but the human._ Man himself is the supreme Fact, and all the world that man could bow before, man's mind must first of all contain. The master truth is not that my mind exists within a physical universe, but that the physical universe is encompassed by my mind. Therefore, when I interpret life, I will start with man, and not with what lies below him. Romanes, the English scientist, illustrates in his experience the difference which these two approaches make. When, returning from agnosticism to Christianity, he explained his lapse, he said, "I did not sufficiently appreciate the immense importance of _human_ nature, as distinguished from physical nature, in any inquiry touching theism.... Human nature is the most important part of nature as a whole whereby to investigate the theory of theism. This I ought to have anticipated on merely _a priori_ grounds, had I not been too much immersed in merely physical research." Of how many now does this same explanation hold! They segregate man from the rest of the universe, and endeavor an interpretation of the unhuman remainder. They forget that man is part and parcel of the universe, bone of its bone, as imperative an expression of its substantial nature as are rocks and stars, and that _any philosophy which interprets the world minus man has not interpreted the world_. Here is the difference between a Haeckel and a Phillips Brooks. All the dominant ideas of the one are drawn from existence minus man; all the controlling convictions of the other are drawn from the heights and depths of man's own life. The first approach inevitably leads to irreligion, for Spirit cannot reveal itself except in spirit and until one has found God in man he will not find him in nature. The second as certainly leads to religion, for, as Augustine said, "If you dig deep enough in every man you find divinity." Over against the testimony of the sub-human that there is a mechanistic aspect to the world, stands the unalterable testimony of the human that there is as well an ideal, purposive, and spiritual aspect to the world. Surely the latter brings us nearer to the heart of truth. _We never understand anything except in terms of its highest expression and man is the summit of nature._ Could religion find a voice, therefore, she would wish to speak not in terms of apology but of challenge, when science, assuming all of reality for its field, grows arrogant. Describe the aspect of the world that belongs to you, she would say. I have learned my lesson; your field is yours, and no interference at my hands shall trouble you again. But remember the limitations of your domain--to observe and describe phenomena and to plot their laws. That is an immense task and inexpressibly useful. But when you have completed it, the total result will be as unlike the real world as a medical manikin with his wire nerves and painted muscles is unlike a real man. The manikin is sufficiently correct; everything is truly pictured there--_except life_. So things are as science sees them, but things are more than science sees. Plot then the mechanistic aspect of the world, but do not suppose that you have caught all of truth in that wide-meshed net! When you have said your last word on facts observed and laws induced, man rises up to ask imperious questions with which you cannot deal, to present urgent problems for which no solution ever has been found save Augustine's, "I seek for God in order that my soul may _live_." V Our thought so ended, however, would leave science and religion jealously guarding their boundaries, not cooperating as allies. _Such suspicious recognition of each other's realms does not exhaust the possibilities._ When once the separate functions each by the other have been granted, we are free to turn our thought to the inestimable service which each is rendering. Consider the usefulness of science to the ideal causes of which religion is the chief! Science has given us the _new universe_, not more marvelous in its vastness than in its unity. For the spectroscope has shown that everywhere through immeasurable space the same chemical properties and laws obtain; the telescope has revealed with what mathematical precision the orbits in the heavens are traced and how unwaveringly here or among the stars gravitation maintains its hold. Man never had so immense and various and yet so single and unified a world before. Polytheism once was possible, but science has banished it forever. Whatever may be the source of the universe, it is _one_ Source, and whoever the creator, he is more glorious in man's imagination than he could ever have been before. Science also has put at the disposal of the ideal causes _such instruments as by themselves they would never have possessed_. We are hoping for a new world-brotherhood, and we pray for it in Christian churches as the Father's will. But the instruments by which the inter-racial fellowship must be maintained and without which it would be unthinkable are science's gift. Railroads, steamships, telegraphs, telephones, wireless--these are the shuttles by which the ideal faiths in man's fraternity may be woven into fact. When Christian physicians heal the sick or stamp out plagues that for ages have been man's curse and his despair, when social maladjustments are corrected by Christian philanthropy, and saner, happier ways of living are made possible; when comforts that once were luxuries are brought within the reach of all, and man's life is relieved of crushing handicaps; when old superstitions that had filled man's life with dread for ages are driven like fogs before science's illumination, and religious faith is freed of their incumbrance; when great causes of relief have at their disposal the unimaginable wealth which our modern economic system has created--can anyone do sufficient justice to man's debt to science? And once more science has done religion an inestimable service in establishing as a point of honor the ambition _to see straight and to report exactly_. The tireless patience, the inexorable honesty, the sacrificial heroism of scientists, pursuing truth, is a gift of incalculable magnitude. Huxley is typical of science at its best when he writes in his journal his ideal--"To smite all humbugs however big; to give a nobler tone to science; to set an example of abstinence from petty personal controversies and of toleration for everything but lying; to be indifferent as to whether the work is recognized as mine or not, so long as it is done." Countless obscurantisms and bigotries, shams and sophistries have been driven from the churches by this scientific spirit and more are yet to go. Science has shown intellectual dishonesty to be a sin of the first rank. Christianity never can be thankful enough for science; on our knees we should be grateful for her as one of God's most indispensable gifts. Nor should the fact that many a scientist whose contributions we rejoice in was not certain about God defer our gratitude. Cyrus, the Persian, is not the only one to whom the Eternal has said, "I will gird thee, though thou hast not known me" (Isa. 45:5). When, however, science has done her necessary work, she needs her great ally, religion. Without the insight and hope which faith alone can bring, we learn a little about the world, our minds enclosed in boundaries beyond which is dark, unfathomable mystery. We rejoice in nature's beauty and in friendship, suffer much with broken bodies and more with broken family ties, until we die as we were born--the spawn of mindless, soulless powers that never purposed us and never cared. And the whole universe is purposeless, engaged with blind hands, that have no mind behind them, on tasks that mean nothing and are never done. Science and religion should not be antagonists; they are mutually indispensable allies in the understanding and mastery of life. [4] J. G. Holland. CHAPTER VIII Faith and Moods DAILY READINGS The relationship of faith to feeling, rather than faith's relationship to mind, is with many people the more vital interest. The emotional results of faith are rightfully of intense concern to everyone, for our feelings put the sense of value into life. To see a sunset without being stirred by its beauty is to miss seeing the sunset; to have friends without feeling love for them is not to have friends; and to possess life without feeling it to be gloriously worth while is to miss living. Now, in this regard, the attitude of faith stands sharply opposed to its direct contrary--the attitude of fear. Faith and fear are the two emotional climates, in one or the other of which everyone tends habitually to live. To the comparison of these we set ourselves in the daily readings. Eighth Week, First Day =Give ear to my prayer, O God; And hide not thyself from my supplication. Attend unto me, and answer me: I am restless in my complaint, and moan, Because of the voice of the enemy, Because of the oppression of the wicked; For they cast iniquity upon me, And in anger they persecute me. My heart is sore pained within me: And the terrors of death are fallen upon me. Fearfulness and trembling are come upon me, And horror hath overwhelmed me. And I said, Oh that I had wings like a dove! Then would I fly away, and be at rest. Lo, then would I wander far off, I would lodge in the wilderness.= =--Psalm 55:1-7.= How many people are slaves to the mood from which this psalmist suffered! "Fearfulness and trembling" are their habitual attitude toward life. They fear to die and just as much they fear to live; before every vexatious problem, before every opposing obstacle, even before the common tasks and responsibilities of daily living, they stand in dread; and every piece of work is done by them at least three times--in previous worry, in anxious performance, and in regretful retrospect. Such fear _imprisons_ the soul. No two men really live in the same world; for while the outward geography may be identical, the real environment of each soul is created by our moods, tempers, and habits of thought. Fear builds a prison about the man, and bars him in with dreads, anxieties, and timid doubts. And the man will live forever in that prison unless faith sets him free. _Faith is the great liberator._ The psalmist who found himself a prisoner of "fearfulness and trembling" obtained his liberty and became a "soul in peace" (v. 18); and the secret of his freedom he revealed in the closing words of his psalm--"But I will trust in Thee." Faith of some sort is the only power that ever sets men free from the bondage of their timidities and dreads. If a man is the slave of fearfulness, there is no substance in his claim to be a man of faith; a man who has vital faith is not habitually fearful. And as Emerson said, "He has not learned the lesson of life who does not every day surmount a fear." _O God, we remember with sadness our want of faith in Thee. What might have been a garden we have turned into a desert by our sin and wilfulness. This beautiful life which Thou hast given us we have wasted in futile worries and vain regrets and empty fears. Instead of opening our eyes to the joy of life, the joy that shines in the leaf, the flower, the face of an innocent child, and rejoicing in it as in a sacrament, we have sunk back into the complainings of our narrow and blinded souls. O deliver us from the bondage of unchastened desires and unwholesome thoughts. Help us to conquer hopeless brooding and faithless reflection, and the impatience of irritable weakness. To this end, increase our faith, O Lord. Fill us with a completer trust in Thee, and the desire for a more whole-hearted surrender to Thy will. Then every sorrow will become a joy. Then shall we say to the mountains that lie heavy on our souls, "Remove and be cast hence" and they shall remove, and nothing shall be impossible unto us. Then shall we renew our strength, and mount up with wings as eagles; we shall run and not be weary; we shall walk and not faint. We offer this prayer in the name of Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen._--Samuel McComb. Eighth Week, Second Day Not only is it true that fear imprisons while faith liberates; fear _paralyzes_ and faith _empowers_. The only attitude in which a man has command of his faculties and is at his best, is the attitude of faith; while fear bewilders the mind and paralyzes the will. The physical effects of fear are deadly; it positively inhibits any useful thinking; and in the spiritual life its results are utterly demoralizing. Fear is the panic of a soul. Consider such an estate as the author of Deuteronomy presents: =And among these nations shalt thou find no ease, and there shall be no rest for the sole of thy foot: but Jehovah will give thee there a trembling heart, and failing of eyes, and pining of soul; and thy life shall hang in doubt before thee; and thou shalt fear night and day, and shalt have no assurance of thy life. In the morning thou shalt say, Would it were even! and at even thou shalt say, Would it were morning! for the fear of thy heart which thou shalt fear, and for the sight of thine eyes which thou shalt see.--Deut. 28:65-67.= Such a situation oppresses every vital power, and the conquest of such a situation must always be inward before it can be outward; _the man must pass from fear to faith_. Let even a little faith arise in him, and power begins to return. Men fear that they cannot overcome evil habits, that they cannot successfully meet difficult situations, that they cannot hold out in the Christian life, and that great causes cannot be fought through to victory--and the weakness which appalls them is the creation of their own misgiving. "Our doubts are traitors, And make us lose the good we oft might win, By fearing to attempt." But faith is tonic; the results which follow a change of heart from fear to faith are miraculous; spiritual dwarfs grow to giants and achieve successes that before would have been unbelievable. No verse in Scripture has behind it a greater mass of verifiable experience than: "This is the victory that hath overcome the world, even our faith" (I John 5:4). _Gracious Father, Thou hast invited us, unworthy as we are, to pray for all sorts and conditions of men.... We pray for all who are in bondage to fear, unable to face the tasks of life or bear the thought of death with peace and dignity. Free them from the tyranny of these dark dreads. Let the inspiration of a great faith or hope seize their souls, and lift them above their fruitless worry and idle torments, into a region of joy and peace and blessedness. We pray for the victims of evil habits, the slaves of alcohol or morphine, or any other pretended redeemer of the soul from weariness and pain. Great is the power of these degrading temptations; but greater still is the saving energy of Thy Spirit. So let Thy Spirit enter the hearts of these unhappy children of Thine, that their will may be made strong to resist, and that the burning heat of high thoughts may consume the grosser desires of the flesh. We pray for souls bound beneath self-imposed burdens, vexed by miseries of their own making; for the children of melancholy, who have lost their way and grope without a light; for those who do their work with no enthusiasm, and, when night falls, can find no sleep though they search for it as for hidden treasure. Let Thy light pierce through their gloom and shine upon their path...._ _Unite us to Jesus Christ, Thy perfect Son, in the bonds of a living trust, so that sustained by His example, and sanctified by His Spirit, we may grow more and more into the image of His likeness. These, and all other blessings, we ask in His name and for His sake. Amen._--Samuel McComb. Eighth Week, Third Day There are many situations in life which naturally throw the pall of dread over man's soul. Life is seldom easy, it is often overwhelmingly difficult, and if a man has worry in his temperament, circumstances supply plenty of occasions on which to exercise it. The difference between men lies here: those in whom the fear-attitude is master hold the oppressive trouble so close to the eye that it hides everything else; those whom the faith-attitude dominates hold trouble off and see it in wide perspectives. A copper cent can hide the sun if we hold it close enough to the eye, and a transient difficulty can shut out from a fearful soul all life's large blessings and all the horizons of divine good will. Fear _disheartens_ men by concentrating their attention on the unhappy aspects of life; _but faith is the great encourager_. Whittier lived in a generation full of turmoil and trouble, and his own life is a story of prolonged struggle against illness, disappointments, and poverty. But, listen: "Yet sometimes glimpses on my sight Through present wrong, the eternal right; And, step by step, since time began I see the steady gain of man." That is the attitude of faith; it does not deny the evil, but it sees around it, refuses to be obsessed or scared by it, and takes heart from a large view when a small view would be appalling. And history always confirms the large view. Fear may be right for the moment, but in the long run it is a liar; only faith tells the truth. =Be merciful unto me, O God; for man would swallow me up: All the day long he fighting oppresseth me. Mine enemies would swallow me up all the day long; For they are many that fight proudly against me. What time I am afraid, I will put my trust in thee.= =--Psalm 56:1-3.= _Almighty and ever-living God, we draw near unto Thee, believing that Thou art, and that Thou wilt reward all those who diligently seek Thee. We are weak, mortal men, immersed in this world's affairs, buffeted by its sorrows, flung to and fro by its conflicts of right and wrong. We cry for some abiding stay, for some sure and steadfast anchorage. Reveal Thyself to us as the eternal God, as the unfathomable Love that encompasses every spirit Thou hast made, and bears it on, through the light and the darkness alike, to the goal of Thine own perfection. And yet, when Thou speakest to us, we are covered with confusion, for now we remember all the sadness and evil disorder of our lives. Thou hast visited our hearts with ideals fair and beautiful, but alas! we have grown weary in aspiration, and have declined into the sordid aims of our baser selves. Thou hast given us the love of parent and of friend, that we might thereby learn something of Thine own love; yet too often have we despised Thy gift and shut our hearts to all the wonder and the glory. We make confession before Thee of our sin and folly and ignorance. Again and again we have vowed ourselves to Thy service; again and again our languid wills have failed to do Thy Will. We have been seduced by the sweet poison of sin, and even against light and knowledge we have done that which Thou dost abhor, and which in our secret hearts we loathe. And now we almost fear to repent, lest Thou shouldst call us into judgment for a repentance that must needs be repented of. O mighty Saviour of men! be patient with us a little longer. Take us back to Thyself. Without Thee, we are undone; with Thee, we will take fresh heart of hope, and bind ourselves with a more effectual vow, and laying aside every weight and the sin which doth so easily beset us, we will follow Thee whithersoever Thou leadest. Amen._--Samuel McComb. Eighth Week, Fourth Day Fear depresses vitality and is a fruitful cause of nervous disorders, with all their disastrous reactions on man's health. Modern investigation has shown beyond any reasonable doubt that while illness comes often by way of the body, it comes also by way of the mind; our moods and tempers have a physical echo, and of all fatal mental states none is so ruinous as fear. It is not strange, therefore, that some people never are well. As Dr. McComb puts it, "Many play at living--they do not really live. They fear the responsibilities, the struggles, the adventures, not without risk, which life offers them. They fear illness. They fear poverty. They fear unhappiness. They fear danger. They fear the passion of sacrifice. They fear even the exaltation of a pure and noble love, until the settlements in money and social prestige have been duly certified. They fear to take a plunge into life's depths. They fear this world, and they fear still more the world beyond the grave." In such a mood no man can possibly be well. Faith, therefore, which drives out fear, has always been a minister of health. The Master's healings, which to the rationalism of a previous generation seemed incredible, in the light of the present knowledge seem inevitable. He had faith and he demanded faith, and wherever the faith-attitude can be set in motion against the fear-attitude and all its morbid brood, the consequences will be physical as well as moral. An outgrown custom of the early Church does not now seem so strange as it did a generation ago: =Is any among you suffering? let him pray. Is any cheerful? let him sing praise. Is any among you sick? let him call for the elders of the church; and let them pray over him, anointing him with oil in the name of the Lord: and the prayer of faith shall save him that is sick, and the Lord shall raise him up; and if he have committed sins, it shall be forgiven him. Confess therefore your sins one to another, and pray one for another, that ye may be healed. The supplication of a righteous man availeth much in its working.--James 5:13-16.= _Eternal God, who art above all change and darkness, whose will begat us, and whose all present love doth enfold and continually redeem us, Holy Guest who indwellest, and dost comfort us; we have gathered to worship Thee, and in communion with Thee to find ourselves raised to the light of our life, and the Heaven of our desires._ _Pour upon our consciousness the sense of Thy wonderful nearness to us. Reveal to our weakness and distress the power and the grace that are more than sufficient for us. May we see what we are, Thy Spirit-born children linked by nature, love, and choice to Thy mighty being; and may the vision make all fears to fade, and a Divine strength to pulse within._ _Enable us to carry out from this place the peace and strength that here we gain, to take into our homes a kinder spirit, a new thoughtfulness; that we may brighten sadness, heal the sick, and make happiness to abound. May we take into our daily tasks and life of labor, a sense of righteousness that shall be as salt to every evil and corrupting influence._ _Because we have walked here awhile with Thee, may we be able to walk more patiently with man. Send us forth with love to the fallen, hope for the despairing, strength to impart to the weak and wayward; and carry on through us the work Thou didst commence in Thy Son our Brother Man and Saviour God. Amen._--W. E. Orchard. Eighth Week, Fifth Day Fear makes impossible any satisfying joy in life. A man of faith may be deeply joyful even in disastrous circumstances, but a man of fear would be unhappy in heaven. Stevenson sings in "the saddest and the bravest song he ever wrote": "God, if this were faith?... To go on for ever and fail and go on again, And be mauled to the earth and arise, And contend for the shade of a word and a thing not seen with the eyes: With half of a broken hope for a pillow at night That somehow the right is the right, And the smooth shall bloom from the rough: Lord, if that were enough?" Sad this song may be, but at the heart of it is yet a fierce joy because faith is there. But put a man of fear in luxury and remove from him every visible cause of disquiet and he will still be miserable. The more a man considers these two determinant moods in life, the more he sees that somehow the faith-attitude must be his, if life is to be worth living. Without it life dries up into a Sahara; with it, he comes into a company of the world's glad spirits, who one way or another have felt what the Psalmist sings: =Jehovah is my light and my salvation; Whom shall I fear? Jehovah is the strength of my life; Of whom shall I be afraid? When evil-doers came upon me to eat up my flesh, Even mine adversaries and my foes, they stumbled and fell. Though a host should encamp against me, My heart shall not fear: Though war should rise against me, Even then will I be confident. One thing have I asked of Jehovah, that will I seek after: That I may dwell in the house of Jehovah all the days of my life, To behold the beauty of Jehovah, And to inquire in his temple. For in the day of trouble he will keep me secretly in his pavilion: In the covert of his tabernacle will he hide me; He will lift me up upon a rock. And now shall my head be lifted up above mine enemies round about me; And I will offer in his tabernacle sacrifices of joy; I will sing, yea, I will sing praises unto Jehovah.= =--Psalm 27:1-6.= _Gracious Father! We confess the painful riddle of our being, that, while claiming kinship with Thee, we feel far from Thee. O, what means this strange bewilderment, this never-ending war between our worse and better thoughts? We are Thine by right, yet we have not given ourselves wholly to Thy care. Our hearts know no rest, save in Thee, yet they have sought it in this world's vainglory, which passeth away. We seek to quench our thirst at the cisterns of this earth, but they are broken cisterns, that can hold no water. Lead us to Thy well of life that springeth up eternally. Give us to drink of that spiritual water, of which, if any man drink, he shall never thirst again. We lament our want and poverty before Thee. Open Thou our eyes to behold the unsearchable riches of Thy grace, and increase our faith that we may make them ours. Unite us to Thee in the bonds of will and love and purpose. Out of Thy fulness, which is in Christ, give to each one of us according to his need. Make us wise with His Wisdom; pure with His purity; strong with His strength; that we may rise into the power and glory of the life that is life indeed. Hear our hearts' weak and wandering cries, and when Thou hearest, forgive and bless, for His sake. Amen._--Samuel McComb. Eighth Week, Sixth Day =No man can serve two masters: for either he will hate the one, and love the other; or else he will hold to one, and despise the other. Ye cannot serve God and mammon. Therefore I say unto you, Be not anxious for your life, what ye shall eat, or what ye shall drink; nor yet for your body, what ye shall put on. Is not the life more than the food, and the body than the raiment? Behold the birds of the heaven, that they sow not, neither do they reap, nor gather into barns; and your heavenly Father feedeth them. Are not ye of much more value than they? And which of you by being anxious can add one cubit unto the measure of his life? And why are ye anxious concerning raiment? Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow; they toil not, neither do they spin: yet I say unto you, that even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these.= =But if God doth so clothe the grass of the field, which to-day is, and to-morrow is cast into the oven, shall he not much more clothe you, O ye of little faith? Be not therefore anxious, saying, What shall we eat? or, What shall we drink? or, Wherewithal shall we be clothed? For after all these things do the Gentiles seek; for your heavenly Father knoweth that ye have need of all these things. But seek ye first his kingdom, and his righteousness; and all these things shall be added unto you.--Matt. 6:24-33.= The meaning of this passage hinges on the first "therefore." You cannot serve God and selfish gain at the same time, says Jesus; you should choose decisively to serve God; and _therefore_ you must not be anxious about yourself. For _anxious fear so concentrates a man's thought on himself that he can serve no one else_. That this is the meaning of this familiar passage is clear also from its conclusion. The real reason for conquering anxious fear is that a man may give himself wholeheartedly to the service of the Kingdom. That fear does spoil usefulness is obvious; a man cannot be fearful for himself and considerate of his fellows. As Stevenson puts it in "Aes Triplex," "The man who has least fear for his own carcass has most time to consider others. That eminent chemist who took his walks abroad in tin shoes and subsisted wholly upon tepid milk had all his work cut out for him in considerate dealings with his own digestion. So soon as prudence has begun to grow up in the brain, like a dismal fungus, it finds its first expression in a paralysis of generous acts." The shame of our fearful living is that it circles about self, is narrowed down to mean solicitudes about our own comfort, and is utterly incapable of serving God or seeking first his Kingdom. Only faith puts folk at leisure from their small anxieties so that they can be servants of a worthy cause. Jesus, therefore, in this passage is not giving us the impossible injunction not to think about tomorrow; he is stating a truth of experience, that anxious fear for oneself which so draws in the thought that God's great causes are forgotten is a deadly peril in man's life. By faith thrust out the mean and timid solicitudes, is his injunction, that life may be free to put first things first. _We come to Thee, our Father, that we may more deeply enter into Thy joy. Thou turnest darkness into day, and mourning into praise. Thou art our Fortress in temptation, our Shield in remorse, our Covert in calamity, our Star of Hope in every sorrow. O Lord, we would know Thy peace, deep, abiding, inexhaustible. When we seek Thy peace, our weariness is gone, the sense of our imperfection ceases to discourage us, and our tired souls forget their pain. When, strengthened and refreshed by Thy goodness, we return to the task of life, send us forth as servants of Jesus Christ in the service and redemption of the world. Send us to the hearts without love, to men and women burdened with heavy cares, to the miserable, the sad, the broken-hearted. Send us to the children whose heritage has been a curse, to the poor who doubt Thy Providence, to the sick who crave for healing and cannot find it, to the fallen for whom no man cares. May we be ministers of Thy mercy, messengers of Thy helpful pity, to all who need Thee. By our sympathy, our prayers, our kindness, our gifts, may we make a way for the inflow of Thy love into needy and loveless lives. And so may we have that love which alone is the fulfilling of Thy law. Hasten the time when all men shall love Thee and one another in Thee, when all the barriers that divide us shall be broken down, and every heart shall be filled with joy and every tongue with melody. These gracious gifts we ask, in Jesus' name. Amen._--Samuel McComb. Eighth Week, Seventh Day Fear does not reveal its disastrous consequences to the full until it colors one's thoughts about the source and destiny of life. Folk work joyfully at a picture-puzzle so long as they believe that the puzzle can be put together, that it was meant, completed, to compose a picture, and that their labor is an effort made in reasonable hope. But if they begin to fear that they are being fooled, that the puzzle is a hoax and never can be pieced together anywhere by anyone, how swiftly that suspicion will benumb their work! So joyful living depends on man's conviction that this life is not a hapless accident, that a good purpose binds it all together, and that our labor for righteousness is not expended on a futile task without a worthy outcome. But fear blights all such hope; it whispers what one pessimist said aloud: "Life is not a tragedy but a farcical melodrama, which is the worst kind of play." That fear benumbs worthy living, kills hope, makes cynical disgust with life a reasonable attitude, and with its frost withers all man's finest aspirations. _Only faith in God can save men from such fear._ Fear or faith--there is no dilemma so full of consequence. Fear imprisons, faith liberates; fear paralyzes, faith empowers; fear disheartens, faith encourages; fear sickens, faith heals; fear makes useless, faith makes serviceable--and, most of all, fear puts hopelessness at the heart of life, while faith rejoices in its God. =Oh give thanks unto Jehovah; for he is good; For his lovingkindness endureth for ever. Let Israel now say, That his lovingkindness endureth for ever. Let the house of Aaron now say, That his lovingkindness endureth for ever. Let them now that fear Jehovah say, That his lovingkindness endureth for ever. Out of my distress I called upon Jehovah: Jehovah answered me and set me in a large place. Jehovah is on my side; I will not fear: What can man do unto me?= =--Psalm 118:1-6.= _O God, we invoke Thy blessing upon all who need Thee, and who are groping after Thee, if haply they may find Thee. Be gracious to those who bear the sins of others, who are vexed by the wrongdoing and selfishness of those near and dear to them, and reveal to them the glory of their fellowship with the sufferings of Christ. Brood in tenderness over the hearts of the anxious, the miserable, the victims of phantasmal fear and morbid imaginings. Redeem from slavery the men and women who have yielded to degrading habits. Put Thy Spirit within them, that they may rise up in shame and sorrow and make confession to Thee, "So brutish was I, and ignorant: I was as a beast before Thee." And then let them have the glad assurance that Thou art with them, the secret of all good, the promise and potency of better things. Console with Thy large consolation those who mourn for their loved dead, who count the empty places and long for the sound of a voice that is still. Inspire them with the firm conviction that the dead are safe in Thy keeping, nay, that they are not dead, but live unto Thee. Give to all sorrowing ones a garland for ashes, the oil of joy for mourning, and the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness. Remember for good all who are perplexed with the mysteries of existence, and who grieve because the world is so sad and unintelligible. Teach them that Thy hand is on the helm of affairs, that Thou dost guide Thine own world, and canst change every dark cloud into bright sunshine. In this faith let them rest, and by this faith let them live. These blessings we ask in the name of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ. Amen._--Samuel McComb. COMMENT FOR THE WEEK I Many people do not find their most perplexing difficulty either in the realm of trust or of belief, but in a problem which includes both. They are confused because neither their experience of God nor their intellectual conviction of the reasonableness of faith is dependable and steady. Faith comes and goes in them with fluctuating moods that bring an appalling sense of insecurity. Their religious life is not stable and consistent; it runs through variant degrees of confidence and doubt, and its whimsical ups and downs continually baffle them. To classify some folk as men of faith and some as men of doubt does not, in the light of this experience, quite tally with the facts. There are moods of faith and moods of doubt in all of us and rarely does either kind secure unanimous consent. Were we to decide for irreligion, a minority protest would be vigorously urged in the interests of faith, and when most assuredly we choose religion, the prayer, "Lord, I believe, help thou mine unbelief" (Mark 9:24) is still appropriate. We often seem to be exchanging, as Browning's bishop says: "A life of doubt diversified by faith, For one of faith diversified by doubt." Some hope arises when we observe that this experience which so perplexes us is fully acknowledged in the Bible. The popular supposition is that when one opens the Scripture he finds himself in a world of constant and triumphant faith. No low moods and doubts can here obscure the trust of men; here God is always real, saints sing in prison or dying see their Lord enthroned in heaven. When one, however, really knows the Bible, it obviously is no serene record of untroubled faith. It is turbulent with moods and doubt. Here, to be sure, is the fifteenth chapter of First Corinthians, on Immortality, but here too is another cry, burdened with all the doubt man ever felt about eternal life, "That which befalleth the sons of men befalleth beasts; even one thing befalleth them: as the one dieth, so dieth the other; yea, they have all one breath; and man hath no preeminence above the beasts" (Eccl. 3:19). The Scripture has many exultant passages on divine faithfulness, but Jeremiah's bitter prayer is not excluded: "Why is my pain perpetual, and my wound incurable, which refuseth to be healed? Wilt thou indeed be unto me as a deceitful brook, as waters that fail?" (Jer. 15:18). The confident texts on prayer are often quoted, but there are cries of another sort: Job's complaint, "Behold, I go forward, but he is not there; and backward, but I cannot perceive him" (Job 23:8); Habakkuk's bitterness, "O Jehovah, how long shall I cry, and thou wilt not hear? I cry unto thee of violence and thou wilt not save" (Hab. 1:2). The Bible is no book of tranquil faith. From the time when Gideon, in a mood like that of multitudes today, cried, "Oh, my Lord, if Jehovah is with us, why then is all this befallen us?" (Judges 6:13) to the complaint of the slain saints in the Apocalypse, "How long, O Master, the holy and true, dost thou not judge and avenge our blood" (Rev. 6:10), the Bible is acquainted with doubt. It knows the searching, perplexing, terrifying questions that in all ages vex men's souls. If the Psalmist, in an exultant mood, sang, "Jehovah is my shepherd," he also cried, "Jehovah, why casteth thou off my soul? Why hidest thou thy face from me?" (Psalm 88:14). No aspect of the Scripture could bring it more warmly into touch with man's experience than this confession of fluctuating moods. At least in this the Bible is our book. Great heights are there, that we know something of. Psalmists sing in adoration, prophets are sure of God and of his coming victory; apostles pledge in sacrifice the certainty of their belief, and the Master on Transfiguration Mountain prays until his countenance is radiant. And depths are there, that modern men know well. Saints cry out against unanswered prayer and cannot understand how such an evil, wretched world is ruled by a good God; in their bitter griefs they complain that God has cast them off, and utterly forgotten and, dismayed, doubt even that a man's death differs from a dog's. This is our book. For the faith of many of us, however we insist that we are Christians, is not tranquil, steady, and serene. It is moody, occasional, spasmodic, with hours of great assurance, and other hours when confidence sags and trust is insecure. II Faith so generally is discussed as though it were a creed, accepted once for all and thereafter statically held, that the influence of our moods on faith is not often reckoned with. But the moods of faith are the very pith and marrow of our actual experience. When a Christian congregation recite together their creedal affirmation, "I believe in God," it _sounds_ as though they all maintained a solid, constant faith. But when in imagination, one breaks up the congregation and interprets from his knowledge of men's lives what the faith of the individuals actually means, he sees that they believe in God not evenly and constantly, but more or less, sometimes very much, sometimes not confidently at all. Our faith in God is not a static matter such as the recitation of a creed suggests. Some things we do believe in steadily. That two plus two make four, that the summed angles of a triangle make two right angles--of such things we are unwaveringly sure. No moods can shake our confidence; no griefs confuse us, no moral failures quench our certainty. Though the heavens fall, two and two make four! But our faith in God belongs in another realm. It is a vital experience. It involves the whole man, with his chameleon moods, his glowing insights, his exalted hours, and his dejected days when life flows sluggishly and no great thing seems real. This experience of variable moods in faith does not belong especially to feeble folk, whose ups and downs in their life with God would illustrate their whole irresolute and flimsy living. The great believers sometimes know best this tidal rise and fall of confidence. Elijah one day, with absolute belief in God, defied the hosts of Baal and the next, in desolate reaction, wanted to die. Luther put it with his rugged candor, "Sometimes I believe and sometimes I doubt." John Knox, at liberty to preach, "dings the pulpit into blads" in his confident utterance; but the same Knox recalled that, in the galleys, his soul knew "anger, wrath, and indignation which it conceived against God, calling all his promises in doubt." The Master himself was not a stranger to this experience. He believed in God with unwavering assurance, as one believes in the shining of the sun. But the fact that the sun perpetually shines did not imply that every day was a sunshiny day for him. The clouds came pouring up out of his dark horizons and hid the sun. "Now is my soul troubled; and what shall I say?" (John 12:27). And once the fog drove in, so dense and dark that one would think there never had been any sun at all. "My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?" (Matt. 27:46). This experience of fluctuating moods is too familiar to be denied, too influential to be neglected. There can be no use in hiding it from candid thought behind the recitation of a creedal formula. There may be great use in searching out its meaning. For there are ways in which this common experience, at first vexatious and disquieting, may supply solid ground for Christian confidence. III In dealing with these variant moods of faith we are not left without an instrument. We have _the sense of value_. We discern not only the _existence_ of things, but their _worth_ as well. When, therefore, a man has recognized his moods as facts, he has not said all that he can say about them. Upon no objects of experience can the sense of value be used with so much certainty as upon our moods. _We know our best hours when they come._ The lapidary, with unerring skill, learns to distinguish a real diamond from a false, but his knowledge is external and contingent, compared with the inward and authoritative certainty with which we know our best hours from our worst. Our great moods carry with them the authentic marks of their superiority. Experience readily confirms this truth. We all have, for example, _cynical and sordid moods_. At such times, only the appetites of physical life seem much to matter; only the things that minister to common comfort greatly count. When Sydney Smith, the English cleric, writes, "I feel an ungovernable interest in my horses, my pigs, and my plants. But I am forced and always was forced to task myself up to an interest in any higher objects," most of us can understand his mood. We grow obtuse at times to all that in our better moods had thrilled us most. Nature suffers in our eyes; great books seem dull; causes that once we served with zest lose interest, and personal relationships grow pale and tame, From such mere dullness we easily drift down to cynicism. Music once had stirred the depths, but now our spirits tally with the scoffer's jest, "What are you crying about with your Wagner and your Brahms? It is only horsehair scraping on catgut." Man's most holy things may lose their grandeur and become a butt of ridicule. When the mood of Aristophanes is on, we too may hoist serious Socrates among the clouds, and set him talking moonshine while the cynical look on and laugh. The spirit that "sits in the seat of the scornful" is an ancient malady. But every man is thoroughly aware that these are not his best moods. From such depleted attitudes we come to worthier hours; _real life_ arrives again. Nature and art become imperatively beautiful; moral causes seem worth sacrifice, and before man's highest life, revealed in character, ideal, and faith, we stand in reverence. These are our great hours, when spiritual values take the throne, when all else dons livery to serve them, and we find it easy to believe in God. Again, we have _crushed and rebellious moods_. We may have been Christians for many years; yet when disaster, long delayed, at last descends, and our dreams are wrecked, we _do_ rebel. Complaint rises hot within us. Joseph Parker, preacher at the City Temple, London, at the age of sixty-eight could write that he had never had a doubt. Neither the goodness of God nor the divinity of Christ, nor anything essential to his Christian faith had he ever questioned. But within a year an experience had fallen of which he wrote: "In that dark hour I became almost an atheist. For God had set his foot upon my prayers and treated my petitions with contempt. If I had seen a dog in such agony as mine, I would have pitied and helped the dumb beast; yet God spat upon me and cast me out as an offense--out into the waste wilderness and the night black and starless." No new philosophy had so shaken the faith of this long unquestioning believer. But his wife had died and he was in a heartbroken mood that all his arguments, so often used on others, could not penetrate. He believed in God as one believes in the sun when he has lived six months in the polar night and has not seen it. These heartbroken moods, however, are not our best. Out of rebellious grief we lift our eyes in time to see how other men have borne their sorrows off and built them into character. We see great lives shine out from suffering, like Rembrandt's radiant faces from dark backgrounds. We see that all the virtues which we most admire--constancy, patience, fortitude--are impossible without stern settings, and that in time of trouble they find their aptest opportunity, their noblest chance. We rise into a new mood, grow resolute not to be crushed, but, as though there were moral purpose in man's trials, to be hallowed, deepened, purified. The meaning of Samuel Rutherford's old saying dawns upon us, "When I am in the cellar of affliction, I reach out my hand for the king's wine." And folk, seeing us, it may be, take heart and are assured that God is real, since he can make a man bear off his trial like that and grow the finer for it. These are our great hours too, when the rains descend, and the winds blow, and the floods come, and beat upon our house, and it is founded on a rock! Once more, we have hours of _discouragement about the world_. The more we have cared for moral causes and invested life in their advancement, the more we are desolate when they seem to fail. Some rising tide in which we trusted turns to ebb again, injustice wins its victories, the people listen to demagogues and not to statesmen, social causes essential to human weal are balked, wars come and undo the hopes of centuries. Who does not sometimes fall into the Slough of Despond? Cavour, disheartened about Italy, went to his room to kill himself. John Knox, dismayed about Scotland, in a pathetic prayer entitled, "John Knox with deliberate mind to his God," wrote, "Now, Lord put an end to my misery." We generally think of Luther in that intrepid hour when he faced Charles V at Worms; but he had times as well when he was sick with disappointment. "Old, decrepit, lazy, worn out, cold, and now one-eyed," so runs a letter, "I write, my Jacob, I who hoped there might at length be granted to me, already dead, a well-earned rest." During the Great War, this mood of discouragement has grown familiar. Many can understand what Robert Louis Stevenson meant when he wrote, of the Franco-Prussian war, "In that year, cannon were roaring for days together on French battlefields, and I would sit in my isle (I call it mine after the use of lovers) and think upon the war, and the pain of men's wounds, and the weariness of their marching.... It was something so distressing, so instant, that I lay in the heather on the top of the island, with my face hid, kicking my heels for agony." But these dismayed hours are not our best. As Bunyan put it, even Giant Despair has fainting fits on sunshiny days. In moods of clearer insight we perceive out of how many Egypts, through how many round-about wilderness journeys, God has led his people to how many Promised Lands. The Exodus was not a failure, although the Hebrews, disheartened, thought it was and even Moses had his dubious hours; the mission of Israel did not come to an ignoble end in the Exile, although multitudes gave up their faith because of it and only prophets dared believe the hopeful truth. The crucifixion did not mean the Gospel's end, as the disciples thought, nor did Paul, imprisoned, lose his ministry. _Nothing in history is more assured than this, that only men of faith have known the truth._ And in hours of vision when this fact shines clear we rise to be our better selves again. What a clear ascent the race has made when wide horizons are taken into view! What endless possibilities must lie ahead! What ample reasons we possess to thrust despair aside, and to go out to play our part in the forward movement of the plan of God! "Dreamer of dreams? we take the taunt with gladness, Knowing that God beyond the years you see, Has wrought the dreams that count with you for madness Into the texture of the world to be." These are our better hours. IV Such sordid, cynical, crushed, rebellious, and discouraged moods we suffer, but we have hours of insight, too, when we are at our best. And as we face this ebb and flow of confidence, which at the first vexatiously perplexed our faith, an arresting truth is clear. The creed of irreligion, to which men are tempted to resign their minds, is simply the _intellectual formulation of what is implied in our less noble hours_. Take what man's cynical, sordid, crushed, rebellious, and discouraged moods imply, and set it in a formal statement of life's meaning, and the result is the creed of irreligion. But take man's best hours, when the highest seems the realest, when even sorrows cannot crush his soul, and when the world is still the battlefield of God for men, and formulate what these hours imply, and the result is the central affirmations of religious faith. Even Renan is sure that "man is most religious in his best moments." Of this high interpretation our variant moods are susceptible, that _we know our best hours when they come, and the faith implied in them is essential Christianity_. As Browning sings it: "Faith is my waking life: One sleeps, indeed, and dreams at intervals, We know, but waking's the main point with us." This fact which we so have come upon is a powerful consideration in favor of religion's truth. _Are we to trust for our guidance the testimony of our worse or better hours?_ We have low moods; so, too, we have cellars in our houses. But we do not _live_ there; we live upstairs! It is not unnatural to have irreligious moods. There may be hours when the eternal Energy from which this universe has come seems to be playing solitaire for fun. It shuffles the stars and planets to see what may chance from their combinations, and careless of the consequence, from everlasting to everlasting it shuffles and plays, and shuffles and plays again. But these are not our best hours. We may have moods when the universe seems to us, as Carlyle's figure pictures it, "as if the heavens and the earth were but boundless jaws of a devouring monster, wherein, I, palpitating, lay waiting to be devoured," but we are inwardly ashamed of times like that. Man comes to this brutal universe of irreligion by way of his ignoble moods. When he lifts up his soul in his great hours of love, of insight, and of devotion, life never looks to him as irreligion pictures it; it never has so looked to him and it never will! In his best hours man always suspects that the Eternal must be akin to what is best in us, that our ideals are born from above, have there their source and destiny, that the Eternal Purpose reigns and yet shall justify the struggle of the ages, and that in anyone who is the best we know, we see most clearly what the Eternal is and means. That goodness is deeper than evil, that spirit is more than flesh, that life is lord of death, that love is the source of all--such convictions come naturally to us when we are at our best. When one examines such affirmations, he perceives that Christianity in its essential faiths is the expression of our finest hours. This is the source whence Christianity has come; it is man's best become articulate. Some used to say that Christian faith had been foisted on mankind by priests. Christian faith has no more artificially been foisted upon human life than the full blown rose is foisted on the bud. Christianity springs up out of man's best life; it is the utterance of his transcendent moods; _it is man believing in the validity of his own noblest days_. Christianity, therefore, at its heart can never fail. Its theologies may come and go, its institutions rise and fall, its rituals have their dawn, their zenith, and their decline, but one persistent force goes on and will go on. _The Gospel is saying to man what man at his best is saying to himself._ Christ has a tremendous ally in human life--our noblest hours. They are all upon his side. What _he_ says, _they_ rise to cry "Amen" to. When we are most truly ourselves we are nearest to him. Antagonistic philosophies, therefore, may spring up to assail the Gospel's influence, and seem to triumph, and fall at last and be forgotten. Still Christ will go on speaking. Nothing can tear him from his spiritual influence over men. _In every generation he has man's noblest hours for his ally._ V In the fact to which our study of man's variant moods has brought us we have not only a confirming consideration in favor of religion's truth, but an _explanation of some people's unbelief_. They live habitually in their low moods; they inhabit spiritual cellars. We are accustomed to say that some friend would be saved from his ignoble attitudes by a vital religious faith; but it is also true that his persistent clinging to ignoble attitudes may be the factor that makes religious faith impossible. According to Dickens's "Tale of Two Cities" a prisoner in the Bastille, who had lived in a cell and cobbled shoes for many years, became so enamored of the narrow walls, the darkness, the task's monotony, that, when liberated, he built a cell at the center of his English home, and on days when the skies were clear and birds were singing, the tap of his cobbler's hammer in the dark could still be heard. So men, by an habitual residence in imprisoning moods, render themselves incapable of loving the wide horizons, the great faiths and hopes of religion. They do not merely make excursions of transient emotion into morose hours and, like men that find that the road is running into malarial swamps, turn swiftly to the hills. They dwell in their moroseness; they _choose_ it, and often obstinately resist deliverance. The common moods that thus incapacitate the soul for faith are easily seen in any man's experience. There are _sullen_ tempers when we are churlish and want so to be. There are _stupid_ tempers, when our soul is too negligent to care, too dull to ask for what only aspiring minds can crave or find. There are _bored_ moods when we feel about all life what Malachi's people felt about worship, "Behold, what a weariness is it!" (Mal. 1:13); _rebellious_ moods when, like Jonah, deprived of a comfort he desired, we cry, "I do well to be angry, even unto death" (Jonah 4:9); _suspicious_ moods, when we mistrust everyone, and even of some righteous Job hear Satan's insinuating sneer, "Does Job fear God for nought?" (Job 1:9). No man is altogether strange to _frivolous_ hours, when those thoughts are lost which must be handled seriously if at all, and _wilful_ hours, when some private desire assumes the center of the stage and angrily resents another voice than his. To say that one who habitually harbors such moods cannot know God is only a portion of the truth; such a man cannot know anything worth knowing. He can know neither fine friends nor great books; he cannot appreciate beautiful music or sublime scenery; he is lost to the deepest loves of family and to every noble enthusiasm for human help. Athwart the knowledge of these most gracious and necessary things stand our obtuse, ignoble moods. The sullen, stupid, bored, rebellious, suspicious, frivolous, or wilful tempers, made into a spiritual residence, are the most deadly prison of the soul. Of course one who dwells there has no confidence in God. Lord Shaftesbury, the English philanthropist, made too sweeping a statement about this, but one can see the basis for his judgment: "Nothing beside ill-humor, either natural or forced, can bring a man to think seriously that the world is governed by any devilish or malicious power. I very much question whether anything beside ill-humor can be the cause of atheism." At least one may be sure that where ill-humor habitually reigns, vital faith in God is made impossible. After full acknowledgment, therefore, of the momentous intellectual problems of belief, we must add that there is a _moral qualification for faith in God_. So great a matter is not achieved by any sort of person, with any kind of habitual moods and tempers. There are views which cellar windows do not afford; one must have balconies to see them. When Jesus said that the pure in heart are blessed because they see God, he was not thinking merely, perhaps not chiefly, of sexual impurity as hindering vision. He was pleading for a heart cleansed of all such perverse, morose, and wayward moods as shut the blinds on the soul's windows. He knew that men could not easily escape the sense of God's reality if they kept their vision clear. On elevated days we naturally think of Spirit as real, and see ourselves as expressions of spiritual purpose, our lives as servants of a spiritual cause. When one habitually dwells in these finer moods, he cannot tolerate a world where his Best is a transient accident. _He must have God, for faith in God is the supreme assertion of the reality and eternity of man's Best._ Any man who habitually lives in his finest moods will not easily escape the penetrating sense of God's reality. VI The certainty with which we tend to be most deeply religious in our best hours is clear when we consider that a man does practically believe in the things which he counts of highest worth. Lotze, the philosopher, even says that "Faith _is_ the feeling that is appreciative of value." It is conceivable that one might be so constituted that without any sense of value he could study facts, as a deaf man might observe a symphony. The sound-waves such a man could mechanically measure; he could analyze the motions of the players and note the reactions of the crowd, but he would hear no music. He would not suffuse the whole performance with his musical appreciations; he would neither like it nor condemn. Man might be so constituted as to face facts without feeling, but he is not. Facts never stand in our experience thus barren and unappreciated--mere neutral _things_ that mean nothing and have no value. The botanist in us may analyze the flowers, but the poet in us estimates them. The penologist in us may take the Bertillon measurements of a boy, but the father in us best can tell how much, in spite of all his sin, that boy is worth. This power to estimate life's _values_ is the fountain from which spring our music, painting, and literature, our ideals and loves and purposes, our morals and religion. Without it no man can live in the real world at all. If we would know, therefore, in what, at our highest altitudes, we tend to believe, we should ask _what it is that we value most, when we rise toward our best_. In our lowest hours what sordid, mercenary, beastly things men may prize each heart knows well. But ever as we approach our best the things that are worth most to us become elevated and refined. Our better moods open our eyes to a world where character is of more worth than all the rest beside, and through which moral purpose runs, to be served with sacrifice. We become aware of spiritual values in behalf of which at need physical existence must be willingly laid down; and words like honor, love, fidelity, and service in our hours of insight have halos over them that poorer moods cannot discern. Man at his best, that is to say, _believes in_ an invisible world of spiritual values, and he furnishes the final proof of his faith's reality by sacrificing to it all lesser things. The good, the true, the beautiful command him in his finer hours, and at their beck and call he lays down wealth and ease and earthly hopes to be their servant. Men really _do believe_ in the things for which they sacrifice and die. In no more searching way can a man's faith be described than _in terms of the objects which thus he values most_. Wherever men find some consuming aim that is for them so supreme in worth that they sacrifice all else to win it, we speak of their attitude as a religion. The "religion of science" describes the absolute devotion of investigators to scientific research as the highest good; the "religion of art" describes the consuming passion with which some value beauty. When we say of one that "money is his God" we mean that he estimates it as life's highest treasure, and when with Paul we speak of others, "whose god is the belly" (Phil. 3:19), we mean men whose sensual life is to them the thing worth most. _What men believe in, therefore, is most deeply seen not by any opinions which they profess, but by the things they prize._ Faith, as Ruskin said, is "that by which men act while they live; not that which they talk of when they die." Many a man uses pious affirmations of Christian faith, but it is easy to observe from his life that what he really believes in is money. Where a man's treasure is, as Jesus said, his heart is, and there his faith is, too. Is there any doubt, then, what we most believe in when we are at our best? While in our lower altitudes it may be easy to believe that the physical is the ultimately real, in our upper altitudes we so value the spiritual world, that we tend with undeniable conviction to feel sure that it must be causal and eternal. Materialism is man's "night-view" of his life; but the "day-view" is religion. Tyndall the scientist was regarded by the Christians of his generation as the enemy of almost everything that they held dear. Let him, then, be witness for the truth which we have stated. "I have noticed," he said, speaking of materialism, "during years of self-observation, that it is not in hours of clearness and vigor that this doctrine commends itself to my mind." The challenge, therefore, presented to every one of us by Christian faith is ultimately this: _Shall I believe the testimony of my better hours or of my worse?_ Many who deny the central affirmations of the Gospel put the object of their denial far away from them as though it were an external thing; they say that they deny the creed or the Bible or the doctrine about God. Such a description of a man's rejection of religious faith is utterly inadequate--the real object of his denial is inward. One may, indeed, discredit forms of doctrine and either be unsure about or altogether disbelieve many things that Christians hold, but when one makes a clean sweep of religion and banishes the central faiths of Christianity _he is denying the testimony of his own finest days_. From such rejection of faith one need not appeal to creed nor Bible, nor to anything that anybody ever said. Let the challenge strike inward to the man's own heart. From his denial of religious faith we may appeal to the hours that he has known and yet will know again, when the road rose under his feet and from a height he looked on wide horizons and knew that he was at his best. To those hours of clear insight, of keen thought, of love and great devotion, when he knew that the spiritual is the real and the eternal, we may appeal. They were his best. He _knows_ that they were his best. And as long as humanity lives upon the earth this conviction must underlie great living--that _we will not deny the validity of our own best hours_. CHAPTER IX Faith in the Earnest God DAILY READINGS Throughout our studies we have been thinking of the effect of faith on the one who exercises it. As an introduction to this week's thought on the earnestness of God, let us approach the effect of faith from another angle. Faith has enormous influence on the one in whom it is reposed; not only the believer but the one in whom he believes is affected by his faith. Ninth Week, First Day =I commend unto you Phoebe our sister, who is a servant of the church that is at Cenchreæ: that ye receive her in the Lord, worthily of the saints, and that ye assist her in whatsoever matter she may have need of you: for she herself also hath been a helper of many, and of mine own self.= =Salute Prisca and Aquila my fellow-workers in Christ Jesus, who for my life laid down their own necks; unto whom not only I give thanks, but also all the churches of the Gentiles: and salute the church that is in their house. Salute Epænetus my beloved, who is the first-fruits of Asia unto Christ. Salute Mary, who bestowed much labor on you. Salute Andronicus and Junias, my kinsmen, and my fellow-prisoners, who are of note among the apostles, who also have been in Christ before me. Salute Ampliatus my beloved in the Lord.--Rom. 16:1-8.= This series of personal commendations is only the beginning of the last chapter of Paul's letter to the Romans. All the way through one hears the individual names of Paul's friends and fellow-laborers, with his discriminating and hearty praise of each. It is clear that he has faith in these men and women; he believes in them and relies on them. Consider the effect on them that Paul's confidence in their Christian fidelity would naturally have. There is no motive much more stirring than the consciousness that somebody believes in us, is trusting and counting on us. Whatever is fine and noble in human life responds to that appeal. Soldiers who feel that their country is relying upon their fidelity, children who are conscious that their parents believe in them, friends who are heartened by the assurance that some folk completely trust them--how much of the best in all of us has come because we have been the objects of somebody's faith! A Connecticut volunteer in the American Revolution has written that George Washington once paused for a moment in front of his company and said simply, "I am counting on you men from Connecticut." And the recruit clasped his musket in his arms and wept with the devotion which Washington's confidence evoked. Would not the sixteenth chapter of Romans have a similar effect on those who read it? _O Thou loving and tender Father in heaven, we confess before Thee, in sorrow, how hard and unsympathetic are our hearts; how often we have sinned against our neighbors by want of compassion and tenderness; how often we have felt no true pity for their trials and sorrows, and have neglected to comfort, help, and visit them. O Father, forgive this our sin, and lay it not to our charge. Give us grace ever to alleviate the crosses and difficulties of those around us, and never to add to them; teach us to be consolers in sorrow, to take thought for the stranger, the widow, and the orphan; let our charity show itself not in words only, but in deed and truth. Teach us to judge as Thou dost, with forbearance, with much pity and indulgence; and help us to avoid all unloving judgment of others; for the sake of Jesus Christ Thy Son, who loved us and gave Himself for us. Amen._--Johann Arndt, 1555. Ninth Week, Second Day =And it came to pass in these days, that he went out into the mountain to pray; and he continued all night in prayer to God. And when it was day, he called his disciples; and he chose from them twelve, whom also he named apostles: Simon, whom he also named Peter, and Andrew his brother, and James and John, and Philip and Bartholomew, and Matthew and Thomas, and James the son of Alphæus, and Simon who was called the Zealot, and Judas the son of James, and Judas Iscariot, who became a traitor.--Luke 6:12-16.= The power that comes to men when someone believes in them must have come to these disciples whom Jesus trusted with his work. We often note the power that was theirs through their faith in Christ; consider today the inspiration that came from Christ's faith in them. He picked them out, commissioned them, relied on them, and believed in their ability with God's help to carry his work to a successful issue. All that is most distinctive and memorable in their character came from their response to that divine trust. How they must have encouraged themselves in times of failure and disheartenment by saying: He believes in us; even though we are ignorant and sinful, he believes in us; he has trusted his work to us, and for all our inability he has faith that we can carry it to triumph! Their faith in themselves and what they could do with God's help must have been almost altogether a reflex of his faith in them. Our contention, therefore, that faith is the dynamic of life has now a new confirmation: _the faith that lifts and motives life is not simply our faith in the Divine, but the faith of the Divine in us_. One of the most glorious results of believing in God is that a man can press on to the further confidence that God believes in us. If he did not, he would never have made us. The very fact that we are here means that he does believe in us, in our possibilities of growth, in our capacities of service, in what he can do in and for and through us before he is done. Man's faith in God and God's faith in man together make an unequalled motive for great living. Yet there is always a sad appendix to every list of trusted men, with somebody's blighted name: "Judas Iscariot, who became a traitor." _Loving Father, our hearts are moved to gratitude and trust when we look up to Thee. We rejoice that through our fleeting days there runs Thy gracious purpose. We praise Thee that we are not the creatures of chance, nor the victims of iron fate, but that out from Thee we have come and into Thy bosom we shall return. We would not, even if we could, escape Thee. Thou alone art good, and to escape from Thee is to fall into infinite evil. Thy hand is upon us moving us on to some far-off spiritual event, where the meaning and the mystery of life shall be made plain and Thy glory shall be revealed. Look in pity upon our ignorance and childishness. Forgive us our small understanding of Thy purpose of good concerning us. Be not angry with us, but draw us from the things of this world which cannot satisfy our foolish hearts. Fill us with Thyself, that we may no longer be a burden to ourselves. So glorify the face of goodness that evil shall have no more dominion over us. Amen._--Samuel McComb. Ninth Week, Third Day The fact that God has faith in us is not alone a source of comfort; it presents a stirring challenge. It means that he is in earnest about achieving his great purposes in human life and that he is counting upon us to help. He has set his heart on aims, about which he cares, and to whose achievement he is calling us; he is confident that with him we can work out, if we will, loftier character and a better world. Let us consider some of the purposes which God is counting on us, in fellowship with him, to achieve. The prophet Micah, in a brief but perfect drama, gives one clue. First the Lord summons his people to a trial, with the eternal mountains for judges: =Hear ye now what Jehovah saith: Arise, contend thou before the mountains, and let the hills hear thy voice. Hear, O ye mountains, Jehovah's controversy, and ye enduring foundations of the earth; for Jehovah hath a controversy with his people, and he will contend with Israel.--Micah 6:1, 2.= Then, the Lord presents his case: =O my people, what have I done unto thee? and wherein have I wearied thee? testify against me. For I brought thee up out of the land of Egypt, and redeemed thee out of the house of bondage; and I sent before thee Moses, Aaron, and Miriam. O my people, remember now what Balak king of Moab devised, and what Balaam the son of Beor answered him; remember from Shittim unto Gilgal, that ye may know the righteous acts of Jehovah.--Micah 6:3-5.= Then the people put in their hesitant, questioning plea. =Wherewith shall I come before Jehovah, and bow myself before the high God? shall I come before him with burnt-offerings, with calves a year old? will Jehovah be pleased with thousands of rams, or with ten thousands of rivers of oil? shall I give my first-born for my transgression, the fruit of my body for the sin of my soul?--Micah 6:6, 7.= Then the mountains pronounce judgment: =He hath showed thee, O man, what is good; and what doth Jehovah require of thee, but to do justly, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with thy God?--Micah 6:8.= God, then, is in earnest about _just_, _kind_, _and humble character_. He believes in it as a possibility; he sees the making of it now in human hearts; he is pledged to further and establish it with all his power; and he is counting on us for loyal cooperation with all our powers of choice. Vital faith means a transforming partnership with a God who is in earnest about character. _O Thou who art the Father of that Son which hast awakened us and yet urgeth us out of the sleep of our sins, and exhorteth us that we become Thine, to Thee, Lord, we pray, who art the supreme Truth, for all truth that is, is from Thee. Thee we implore, O Lord, who art the highest Wisdom, through Thee are wise, all those that are so. Thou art the supreme Joy, and from Thee all have become happy that are so. Thou art the highest Good and from Thee all beauty springs. Thou art the intellectual Light, and from Thee man derives his understanding. To Thee, O God, we call and speak. Hear us, O Lord, for Thou art our God and our Lord, our Father and our Creator, our Ruler and our Hope, our Wealth and our Honor, our Home, our Country, our Salvation, and our Life; hear, hear us, O Lord. Few of Thy servants comprehend Thee, but at least we love Thee--yea, love Thee above all other things. We seek Thee, we follow Thee, we are ready to serve Thee; under Thy power we desire to abide, for Thou art the Sovereign of all. We pray Thee to command us as Thou wilt; through Jesus Christ Thy Son our Lord. Amen._--King Alfred, 849. Ninth Week, Fourth Day God also is in earnest about _social righteousness_. =I hate, I despise your feasts, and I will take no delight in your solemn assemblies. Yea, though ye offer me your burnt-offerings and meal-offerings, I will not accept them; neither will I regard the peace-offerings of your fat beasts. Take thou away from me the noise of thy songs; for I will not hear the melody of thy viols. But let justice roll down as waters, and righteousness as a mighty stream.--Amos 5:21-24.= Anyone who cares about character must care about social conditions, for every unfair economic situation, every social evil left to run its course means ruin to character. And the God of the Bible, because he cares supremely for personal life at its best, is zealously in earnest about social justice; his prophets blazed with indignation at all inequity, and his Son made the coming Kingdom, when God's will would be done on earth, the center of his message. To fellowship with this earnest purpose of God we all are summoned; God believes in the glorious possibilities of life on earth; he is counting on us to put away the sins that hold the Kingdom back and to fight the abuses that crush character in men. To believe in God, therefore--the God who is fighting his way with his children up through ignorance, brutality, and selfishness to "new heavens and a new earth wherein dwelleth righteousness"--is no weakly comfortable blessing. It means joining a moral war; it means devotion, sacrifice; its spirit is the Cross and its motive an undiscourageable faith. And our underlying assurance that this war for a better world can be won is not simply our belief that it can be done, but _our faith that God is, and that he believes that it can be done_. When we pray we say, "Thy Kingdom come," and we are full of hope about the long, sacrificial struggle, for the purpose behind and through it all is first of all God's. Our earnestness is but an echo of his. _O Thou Eternal One, we adore Thee who in all ages hast been the great companion and teacher of mankind; for Thou hast lifted our race from the depths, and hast made us to share in Thy conscious intelligence and Thy will that makes for righteousness and love. Thou alone art our Redeemer, for Thy lifting arms were about us and Thy persistent voice was in our hearts as we slowly climbed up from savage darkness and cruelty. Thou knowest how often we have resisted Thee and loved the easy ways of sin rather than the toilsome gain of self-control and the divine irritation of Thy truth...._ _We pray Thee for those who amid all the knowledge of our day are still without knowledge; for those who hear not the sighs of the children that toil, nor the sobs of such as are wounded because others have made haste to be rich; for those who have never felt the hot tears of the mothers of the poor that struggle vainly against poverty and vice. Arouse them, we beseech Thee, from their selfish comfort and grant them the grace of social repentance. Smite us all with the conviction that for us ignorance is sin, and that we are indeed our brother's keeper if our own hand has helped to lay him low. Though increase of knowledge bring increase of sorrow, may we turn without flinching to the light and offer ourselves as instruments of Thy spirit in bringing order and beauty out of disorder and darkness. Amen._--Walter Rauschenbusch. Ninth Week, Fifth Day The thought which we have been pursuing leads us to a truth of major importance: if God is thus in earnest, believing in man's possibilities and laboring for them, then he cannot be known by anyone who does not share his purpose and his labor. _Action is a road to knowledge and some things never can be known without it._ If one would know the business world, he must be an active business man; no amount of abstract study and speculation can take the place of vital participation in business struggle. The way to understand any movement or enterprise is to go into it, share its enthusiasms and hopes, labor sacrificially for its success, bear its defeats as though they were our own, and rejoice in its achievements as though nothing so much mattered to our happiness. Such knowledge is thorough and vital; when one who so has learned what war is, or the missionary enterprise, or the fight against the liquor traffic, stands up to speak, a merely theoretical student of these movements sounds unreal and tame. If therefore God is earnest Purpose, with aims in which he calls us to share, no one can thoroughly know him merely by _thinking_; he must know him by _acting_. =But he that doeth the truth cometh to the light, that his works may be made manifest, that they have been wrought in God.--John 3:21.= =Jesus therefore answered them, and said, My teaching is not mine, but his that sent me. If any man willeth to do his will, he shall know of the teaching, whether it is of God, or whether I speak from myself.--John 7:16, 17.= Many people endeavor to reach a satisfactory knowledge of God by clarifying their thought and working out a rational philosophy. But, by such intellectual means alone, they could not gain satisfactory knowledge of so familiar a thing as home life. To know home life one elemental act is essential: get into a home and share its problems, its satisfactions, and its hopes. So the most adequate philosophy by itself can bring no satisfactory knowledge of God; only by working with God, sharing his purposes for the world, sacrificially laboring for the aims he has at heart can men know him. _Eternal God, who hast formed us, and designed us for companionship with Thee; who hast called us to walk with Thee and be not afraid; forgive us, we pray Thee, if craven fear, unworthy thought, or hidden sin has prompted us to hide from Thee. Remove the suspicion which regards Thy service as an intrusion on our time and an interference with our daily task. Shew to us the life that serves Thee in the quiet discharge of each day's duty, that ennobles all our toil by doing it as unto Thee. We ask for no far-off vision which shall set us dreaming while opportunities around slip by; for no enchantment which shall make our hands to slack and our spirits to sleep, but for the vision of Thyself in common things for every day; that we may find a Divine calling in the claims of life, and see a heavenly reward in work well done. We ask Thee not to lift us out of life, but to prove Thy power within it; not for tasks more suited to our strength, but for strength more suited to our tasks. Give to us the vision that moves, the strength that endures, the grace of Jesus Christ, who wore our flesh like a monarch's robe and walked our earthly life like a conqueror in triumph. Amen._--W. E. Orchard. Ninth Week, Sixth Day Because action with God is essential to any satisfying knowledge of him, action is one of the great resolvers of doubt. Many minds, endeavoring to think through the mystifying problems of God's providence, find themselves in a clueless labyrinth. The more they think the more entangled and confused their minds become. Their thoughts strike a fatal circle, like wanderers lost in the woods, and return upon their course, baffled and disheartened. To such perplexed minds the best advice often is: Cease your futile thinking and go to work. Let action take the place of speculation. Break the fatal round of circular thought that never will arrive, and go out to act on the basis of what little you do believe. Your mind like a dammed stream is growing stagnant; set it running to some useful purpose, if only to turn mill-wheels, and trust that activity will bring it cleansing in due time. Horace Bushnell, the great preacher, while a skeptical tutor at Yale, was disturbed because so many students were unsettled by his disbelief. In the midst of a revival he said that like a great snag he caught and stopped the newly launched boats as fast as they came down. Unable to think his way out of his intellectual perplexity, he faced one night this arresting question: "What is the use of my trying to get further knowledge, so long as I do not cheerfully yield to what I already know?" And kneeling he prayed after this fashion: "O God, I believe there is an eternal difference between right and wrong, and I hereby give myself up to do the right and to refrain from the wrong. I believe that Thou dost exist, and if Thou canst hear my cry and wilt reveal Thyself to me, I pledge myself to do Thy will, and I make this pledge fully, freely, and forever." What wonder that in time the light broke and that Bushnell became a great prophet of the faith! Even Paul, finishing his laborious discussion of God's providence toward Israel, acknowledges his baffled thought: =O the depth of the riches both of the wisdom and the knowledge of God! how unsearchable are his judgments, and his ways past tracing out! For who hath known the mind of the Lord? or who hath been his counsellor? or who hath first given to him, and it shall be recompensed unto him again? For of him, and through him, and unto him, are all things. To him be the glory for ever. Amen.--Rom. 11:33-36=. And then, as if he turned from philosophy to action with gratitude, he begins the twelfth chapter: =I beseech you therefore, brethren, by the mercies of God, to present your bodies a living sacrifice, holy, acceptable to God, which is your spiritual service. And be not fashioned according to this world: but be ye transformed by the renewing of your mind, that ye may prove what is the good and acceptable and perfect will of God.--Rom. 12:1, 2.= _O God, we thank Thee for the sweet refreshment of sleep and for the glory and vigor of the new day. As we set our faces once more toward our daily work, we pray Thee for the strength sufficient for our tasks. May Christ's spirit of duty and service ennoble all we do. Uphold us by the consciousness that our work is useful work and a blessing to all. If there has been anything in our work harmful to others and dishonorable to ourselves, reveal it to our inner eye with such clearness that we shall hate it and put it away, though it be at a loss to ourselves. When we work with others, help us to regard them, not as servants to our will, but as brothers equal to us in human dignity, and equally worthy of their full reward. May there be nothing in this day's work of which we shall be ashamed when the sun has set, nor in the eventide of our life when our task is done and we go to our long home to meet Thy face. Amen._--Walter Rauschenbusch. Ninth Week, Seventh Day =Then shall the King say unto them on his right hand, Come, ye blessed of my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world: for I was hungry, and ye gave me to eat; I was thirsty, and ye gave me drink; I was a stranger, and ye took me in; naked, and ye clothed me; I was sick, and ye visited me; I was in prison, and ye came unto me. Then shall the righteous answer him, saying, Lord, when saw we thee hungry, and fed thee? or athirst, and gave thee drink? And when saw we thee a stranger, and took thee in? or naked, and clothed thee? And when saw we thee sick, or in prison, and came unto thee? And the King shall answer and say unto them, Verily I say unto you, Inasmuch as ye did it unto one of these my brethren, even these least, ye did it unto me.--Matt. 25:34-40.= The earnestness of God is not about any diffuse generality; it is about persons. His purposes concern them, and he believes in them and in their capacities for fellowship with him, for growing character and for glorious destiny. If, therefore, one wishes the sense of God's reality which comes from active co-partnership, let him serve persons, believe in them, and be in earnest about them. A woman, troubled by invincible doubts, was given by a wise minister the Gospel of John and a calling-list of needy families, and was told to use them both. She came through into a luminous faith, and which helped her more, her reading or her service, she could never tell. When the Master said that the good we did to the least of his brethren, we did to him, he indicated a road to vital knowledge of him; he said in effect that we can always find him in the lives of people to whom we give love and help. Many will never find him at all unless they find him there. The great believers have been the great servants; and the reason for this is not simply that faith produced service, but also that _service produced faith_. The life of Sir Wilfred Grenfell, for example, makes convincingly plain that his faith sent him to Labrador for service, and that then he drew out of service a compound interest on his original investment of faith. _O God, the Father of the forsaken, the Help of the weak, the Supplier of the needy, who hast diffused and proportioned Thy gifts to body and soul, in such sort that all may acknowledge and perform the joyous duty of mutual service; Who teachest us that love towards the race of men is the bond of perfectness, and the imitation of Thy blessed Self; open our eyes and touch our hearts, that we may see and do, both for this world and for that which is to come, the things which belong to our peace. Strengthen us in the work we have undertaken; give us counsel and wisdom, perseverance, faith, and zeal, and in Thine own good time, and according to Thy pleasure, prosper the issue. Pour into us a spirit of humility; let nothing be done but in devout obedience to Thy will, thankfulness for Thine unspeakable mercies, and love to Thine adorable Son Christ Jesus.... Amen._--Earl of Shaftesbury, 1801. COMMENT FOR THE WEEK I Throughout our studies we have been asserting that faith in God involves confidence that creation has a purpose. But we shall not see the breadth and depth of the affirmation, or its significant meaning for our lives, unless more carefully we face a question, which, as keenly as any other, pierces to the marrow of religion: _Is God in earnest?_ That the God of the Bible is in earnest is plain. If we open the Book at the Exodus, we hear him saying, "I have surely seen the affliction of my people, ... and have heard their cry, ... and I am come down to deliver them" (Exodus 3:7, 8). If we turn to the prophets, we find Hosea, interpreting the beating of God's heart: "How am I to give thee up, O Ephraim? How am I to let thee go, O Israel? How am I to give thee up? My heart is turned upon me, my compassions begin to boil"[5] (Hos. 11:8). Everywhere in the Old Testament, God is in earnest: about personal character--"What doth Jehovah require of thee, but to do justly, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with thy God?" (Micah 6:8); about social righteousness--"Let justice roll down as waters, and righteousness as a mighty stream" (Amos 5:24); about the salvation of the world--"It is too light a thing that thou shouldest be my servant to raise up the tribes of Jacob and to restore the preserved of Israel: I will also give thee for a light to the Gentiles, that thou mayest be my salvation unto the end of the earth" (Isa. 49:6). When from the Old Testament one turns to the New, he faces an assertion of God's earnestness that cannot be surpassed: "God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten Son." God in the New Testament is as much in earnest as that, and all the major affirmations of the Book cluster about the magnetism of this central faith. God is even like a shepherd with a hundred sheep, who having lost one, leaves the ninety and nine and goes after that which is lost, until he finds it (Luke 15:4). From the earliest Hebrew seer dimly perceiving him, to the last apostle of the New Covenant, the God of the Bible is tremendously in earnest. How profoundly the acceptance of this faith deepens the meaning and value of life is evident. For a moment some might think that the major question is not whether _God_ is in earnest but whether _we_ are; but when a man considers the hidden fountains from which the streams of his human earnestness must flow, he sees how necessary is at least the hope that at the heart of it creation is in earnest too. Von Hartmann, the pessimist, makes one of his characters say, "The activities of the busy world are only the shudderings of a fever." How shall a man be seriously in earnest about great causes in a world like that? The men whose devoted lives have made history great have seen in creation's busyness more than aimless shuddering. Moses was in earnest, but behind his consecration was his vision of the Eternal, saying to Pharaoh, "Let my people go!" The Master was in earnest, but with a motive that took into its account the purposefulness of God, "My Father worketh hitherto, and I work" (John 5:17). Indeed, no satisfying meaning, no real unity are conceivable in a purposeless universe. The plain fact is that _within_ the universe nobody explains anything without the statement of its purpose. A chair is something to sit down on; a watch is something to tell time by; a lamp is something to give illumination in the dark--and lacking this purposive description, the story of the precedent history of none of these things, from their original materials to their present shape, would in the least tell what they really are. One who knows all else about a telephone, practically knows nothing, unless he is aware of what it is _for_. Nor is the necessity of such explanation lessened when scientists endeavor descriptions in their special realms. Huxley, narrating the growth of a salamander's egg, writes, "Let a moderate supply of warmth reach its watery cradle, and the plastic matter undergoes changes so rapid, and yet so steady and so purposelike in their succession, that one can only compare them to those operated by a skilled modeler upon a formless lump of clay. As with an invisible trowel, the mass is divided and subdivided into smaller and smaller portions, until it is reduced to an aggregation of granules not too large to build withal the finest fabrics of the nascent organism. And, then, it is as if a delicate finger traced out the line to be occupied by the spinal column and moulded the contour of the body; pinching up the head at one end, the tail at the other, and fashioning flank and limb into the due salamandrine proportions, in so artistic a way, that, after watching the process hour by hour, one is almost involuntarily possessed by the notion that some more subtle aid to vision than an achromatic, would show the hidden artist, with his plan before him, striving with skilful manipulation to perfect his work." The obvious fact is that salamanders' eggs act as though they were seriously intent on making salamanders; and lion's cells as though they were tremendously in earnest about making lions. As Herbert Spencer said of a begonia leaf, "We have therefore no alternative but to say, that the living particles composing one of these fragments, have an innate tendency to arrange themselves into the shape of the organism to which they belong." _But if this is so, purpose is essential in the description of every living thing._ All about us is a world of life with something strikingly like purposeful action rampant everywhere, so that in describing an elm tree it will not do to say only that forces from behind pushed it into being; one must say, too, that from our first observation of its cells they acted as though they were intent on making nothing else but elm. They went about their business as though they had a purpose. The tree's cause is not alone the forces from behind; it is as well the aim that in the cells' action lay ahead. Men can describe nothing in heaven above or on the earth beneath without the use of purposive terminology. How shall they try otherwise to describe the universe? _A world in which the minutest particles and cells all act as though they were eagerly intent on achieving aims, can only with difficulty be thought of as an aimless whole._ Man's conviction is insistent and imperious that creation, so surcharged with purposes, must have Purpose. The greatest scientists themselves are often our best witnesses here. Charles Darwin and Alfred Russel Wallace are the twin discoverers of evolution. Said the former: "If we consider the whole universe the mind refuses to look at it as the outcome of chance." Said the latter: the world is "a manifestation of creative power, directive mind, and ultimate purpose." What such men have coldly said, the men of devout religion have set on fire with passionate faith. They have been sure that this world is not "A tale Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, Signifying nothing." In every cause that makes for man's salvation they have seen the manifest unveiling of divine intent. _God is in earnest_--this conviction has possessed them utterly, and to live and die for those things on behalf of which the Eternal is tremendously concerned has been the aim, the motive, and the glory of their lives. II One need only watch with casual observance the multitudes who say that they believe in God, to see how few of them believe in this God who is in earnest. When they confess their faith in deity they have something else in mind beside the God of the Bible, compassionately purposeful about his world and calling men to be his fellow-workers. Let us therefore consider some of the fallacies that enable men to believe in a God who is _not_ in earnest. For one thing, some _put God far away_. Missionaries in Africa's interior find tribes worshiping stocks, stones, demons, ghosts, but this does not mean that no idea of a great original god is theirs. Often they are not strangers to that thought, but, as an old Africander woman said, "He never concerned himself with me; why should I concern myself with him?" To such folk a great god exists, but he does not care; he dwells apart, an indifferent deity, who has left this world in the hands of lesser gods that really count. The task of the missionary, therefore, is not to prove the existence of a creator--"No rain, no mushrooms," said an African chief; "no God, no world"--but it is to persuade men that the God who seems so far away is near at hand, that he really cares, and over each soul and all his world is sacrificially in earnest. Such missionary work is not yet needless among Christian people. Said a Copenhagen preacher in a funeral discourse, "God cannot help us in our great sorrow, because he is so infinitely far away; we must therefore look to Jesus." One feels this Siberian exile of God from all vital meaning for our humanity, when he is called the "Absolute," the "Great First Cause," the "Energy from which all things proceed." Like the man, examined by the Civil Service, who, asked the distance from sun to earth, answered, "I do not know how far the sun is from the earth; but it is far enough so that it will not interfere with the proper performance of my duties at the Customs Office," so men with phrases like "the Great First Cause" put God an immeasurable distance off. No man has dealings with a "Great First Cause," no "Great First Cause" ever had vital, personal, constraining meanings for a man. Rather across infinite distance and time unthinkable, we vaguely picture a dim Figure, who gave this toboggan of a universe its primal shove and has not thought seriously of it since. So a wanderer down the street might put a child upon her sled and giving her a start down-hill, go on his way. She may have a pleasant slide, but he will not know; she may fall off, but he will not care; there may be a tragic accident, but that will not be his concern--he has gone away off down the street. Multitudes of nominal believers have a god like that. In comparison with such, one thinks of men like Livingstone. His God was compassionately concerned for Africa, spoke about black folk as Hosea heard him speak concerning Israel, "How can I give thee up? How can I let thee go?" until the fire of the divine earnestness lit a corresponding ardor in Livingstone's heart and he went out to be God's man in the dark continent. Such men have smitten the listless world as winds fill flapping sails, crying "Move!" And the God of such has been tremendously in earnest. III Some gain a God lacking serious purpose, not by putting him afar off, but by endeavoring to bring him so near that they _diffuse him everywhere_. Writers tell us that God is in every rustling leaf and in every wave that breaks upon the beach; we are assured that God is in every gorgeous flower and in every flaming sunset. And the poetry of this is so alluring that we cannot bear to have God specially anywhere, because we are so anxious to keep him everywhere. Preachers delight to illustrate their thought of God with figures drawn from nature's invisible energies-- "Who has seen the wind? Neither I nor you: But when the leaves hang trembling The wind is passing through. Who has seen the wind? Neither you nor I: But when the trees bow down their heads The wind is passing by." By such comparisons are we taught to see that God invisibly is everywhere. For all the valuable truth that such speech contains, its practical issue, in many minds today, is to strip God of the last shred of personality, and with that loss to end the possibility of his being in earnest about anything. He has become refined Vapor thinly diffused through space. Folk say they love to meditate on him, and well they may! For such a god asks nothing of anybody except meditation; he has no purposes that call for earnestness in them. When little children are ruined in a city's tenements, when the liquor traffic brutalizes men, when economic inequity makes many poor that a few may be made rich, when war clothes the world with unutterable sorrow, such a god does not care. He is not in earnest about anything. For the only thing in the universe that can be consciously in earnest is personality, and when one depersonalizes God, the remainder is a deity who has no love, no care, no purpose. Thousands do obeisance to such a gaseous idol. From this fallacy spring such familiar confessions of faith as this, "God is not a person; he is spirit." If by this negation one intends to say that God is not a limited individual, that is obviously true; but _the contrast between personality and spirit is impossible_. One may as well speak of dry water as of impersonal spirit. Rays of radium are unimaginably minute and swift, but they are not spirit. Nothing in the impersonal realm can be conceived so subtle and refined that it is spirit. Spirit begins only where love and intelligence and purpose are, and these all are activities of personality. No one can _really_ believe what Jesus said, "God is a Spirit," without being ready to pray as Jesus prayed, "Our Father." Between an impersonal, diffused, and gaseous god, and the God of the Bible, how great the difference! God's pervading omnipresence is indeed affirmed in Scripture. There, as much as in any modern thought, the heavens declare his glory, the flowers of the field are illustrations of his care, and the influences of his spirit are like the breeze across the hills. To the ancient Hebrew, heaven and sheol were the highest and the lowest, but of each the Psalmist says to God, "Thou art there," and as for the uttermost parts of the sea, "even there shall thy hand lead me" (Psalm 139:7-10). Cries Jeremiah from the Old Testament, "Am I a God at hand, saith Jehovah, and not a God afar off? Can any hide himself in secret places so that I shall not see him? saith Jehovah. Do not I fill heaven and earth?" (Jer. 23:23, 24). And Paul answers from the New Testament, "Not far from every one of us: for in him we live, and move, and have our being" (Acts 17:27, 28). But the God of the Bible who so pervades and sustains all existence never degenerates into a Vapor. When Egyptian taskmasters crack their whips over Hebrew slaves, he cares. When exiles try in vain to sing the songs of Zion in a strange land, he cares. When evil men build Jerusalem with blood, and rapacious men pant after the dust on the head of the poor, he cares. He is prodigiously in earnest, and those who best represent him, from the great prophets to the sacrificial Son, are like him in this, that they are mastered by consuming purpose. The God of the Bible is sadly needed by his people. For lack of him religion grows often listless and churches become social clubs. IV By another road men travel to believe in a God who is not in earnest: _they think of him as an historic being_. It was said of Carlyle, shrewdly if unjustly, that his God lived until the death of Oliver Cromwell. Whatever may be the truth about Carlyle, it is easy to find folk whose God to all intents and purposes is dead. Long since he closed his work, spoke his last word, and settled down to inactivity and silence. He made the world, created man, thundered from Sinai, established David's kingdom, brought back the exiles, inspired the prophets and sent his Son. He _once_ was earnest; the record of his ancient acts is long and glorious, and men find comfort in reading what he used to do. They would not explicitly confess it, but in fact they habitually think of God in the past tense. They cannot conceive the universe as happening by chance, and they posit God as making it; they cannot believe that the transcendent characters of olden times were uninspired, so God becomes the explanation of their power. When such believers wish to assure themselves of God they go to the stern of humanity's ship and watch the wake far to the rear; but they never stand on the ship's bridge, and feel it sway and turn at the touch of a present Captain in control. They have not risen to the meaning of the Bible's reiterated phrase, "_the living God_." Höffding tells us that in a Danish Protestant church, well on into the nineteenth century, worshipers maintained the custom of bowing, when they passed a certain spot upon the wall. The reason, which no one knew, was discovered when removal of the whitewash revealed a Roman Catholic Madonna. Folk had bowed for three centuries before the place where the Madonna _used to be_. So some folk worship deity; he is not a present reality but a tradition; their faith is directed not toward the living God himself, but toward what some one else has written about a God who used to be alive. They do not feel now God's plans afoot, his purposes as certainly in progress now as ever in man's history. They stand rather like unconverted Gideon, facing backwards and lamenting, "Where are all his wondrous works which our fathers told us of?" (Judges 6:13). Not by what we say, but by our practical attitudes we most reveal how little we believe in an earnest, living God whose voice calls _us_, whose plans need _us_, as much as ever Moses or David or Paul was summoned and required. If we say that we do believe in this living God we are belied by our discouragements, deserving as we often do the rebuke which Luther's wife administered to the Reformer. "From what you have said," she remarked, standing before him clothed in deep, mourning black, "and from the way you feel and act I supposed that God was dead." If we say that we believe in a living, earnest God, we are belied by our reluctance to expect and welcome new revelations of God's truth and enlarging visions of his plan. Willing to believe what the astronomers say, that light from a new star reaches the earth each year, we act as though God's spiritual universe were smaller than his physical, and do not eagerly await the new light perpetually breaking from his heavens. But most of all the little influence which our faith in God has upon our practical service is a scathing indictment of its vitality and power. No one who really believes in an earnest, living God can have an undedicated life. He may not think of the Divine in the past tense chiefly; the present and the future even more belong to God; and through each generation runs the earnest purpose of the Eternal, who has never said his last word on any subject, nor put the final hammer blow on any task. A faith like this, deeply received and apprehended, is a masterful experience. It changes the inner quality of life; it makes the place whereon we stand holy ground; it urgently impresses us into the service of those causes that we plainly see have in them the purpose of God. No outlook upon life compares with this in grandeur; no motive for life is at once so weighty and so fine. V One of the subtlest fallacies by which we miss believing in an earnest God is not describable as an opinion. Men fall into it, who neither reduce God to a Great First Cause, nor diffuse him into a vapor, nor regard him as an historic being. _They rather allow their superstitious sentiments to take the place of worthy faith._ Plenty of people who warmly would insist on their religion, reveal in their practical attitudes how utterly bereft of serious moral purpose their God is. They think their fortune will be better if they do not sit thirteen at a table or occupy room thirteen at a hotel; on occasion they throw salt or look at the moon over their right shoulders and rap on wood to assure their safety or their luck; and to be quite certain of divine favor they hang fetishes, like rabbits' feet, about their necks. Their attitude toward such surviving pagan superstitions is like Fontenelli's toward ghosts. "I do not believe in them," he said, "but I am afraid of them." That this is a law-abiding universe with moral purpose in it, such folk obviously do not believe. Their God is not in earnest. He spends his time watching for dinner parties of thirteen or listening for folk who forget to rap on wood when they boast that they have not been ill all winter. The utter poverty to which great words may be reduced by meager minds is evident when such folk say that they believe in God. Even when these grosser forms of superstition are not present, others hardly more respectable may take their place. God is pictured as a King, surrounded with court ritual, in the complete and proper observance of which he takes delight, and any rupture in whose regularity awakes his anger. To go to church, to say our prayers, to read our Bibles, to be circumspect on Sunday, to help pay the preacher's salary and to contribute to the missionary cause--such things as these comprise the court ritual of God. These Christian acts are not presented as gracious privileges, opportunities, like fresh air and sunshine and friendship, to make life rich and serviceable; they are presented as works of merit, by which we gain standing in God's favor and assure ourselves of his benignity. For with those who so conform to his ordinances and respect his taboos, he is represented as well-pleased, and he blesses them with special favors. But any infraction of these rituals is sure to bring terrific punishment. God watches those who do not sing his praises or who fail in praying, and he marks them for his vengeance! Dr. Jowett tells us that in the Sunday school room of the English chapel where as a child he worshiped, a picture hung that to his fascinated and frightened imagination represented the character of God: a huge eye filled the center of the heavens, and from it rays of vision fell on every sort of minute happening and small misdeed on earth. As such a monstrous Detective, jealous of his rights and perquisites, God is how often pictured to the children! So H. G. Wells indignantly interprets his experience: "I, who write, was so set against God, thus rendered. He and his Hell were the nightmare of my childhood; I hated him while I still believed in him, and who could help but hate? I thought of him as a fantastic monster, perpetually spying, perpetually listening, perpetually waiting to condemn and to strike me dead; his flames as ready as a grill-room fire. He was over me and about my feebleness and silliness and forgetfulness as the sky and sea would be about a child drowning in mid-Atlantic. When I was still only a child of thirteen, by the grace of the true God in me, I flung this lie out of my mind, and for many years, until I came to see that God himself had done this thing for me, the name of God meant nothing to me but the hideous sear in my heart where a fearful demon had been." This "bogey God" is in earnest about nothing except the observance of his little rituals; he is unworthy of a good man's worship, he has no purpose that can capture the consent and inspire the loyalty of serious folk. How many so-called unbelievers are in revolt against this perversion of the idea of God, taught them in childhood! The deity whom they refuse to credit is not the Father, with "the eternal purpose which he purposed in Christ" (Eph. 3:11); often they have not heard of him. Their denial is directed against another sort of God. "I wish I could recall clearly," writes one, "the conception of God which I gained as a boy in Sunday school. He was as old as grandfather, I know, but not so kind. We were told to fear him." Surely the real God must sympathize with those who hate his caricature. A vindictive Bogey, querulous about the mint, anise, and cummin of his ritual, in earnest about nothing save to reward obsequious servants and to have his vengeance out on the careless and disobedient, is poles asunder from the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ with his majestic purpose for the world's salvation. VI Of all the sentiments, however, by which a worthy faith is made impossible, none is so common, in these recent years, _as the ascription to God of a weak and flaccid affectionateness_. God's love is interpreted by love's meaning in hours when we are gentle with our children or tender with our friends. The soft and cosy aspects of love, its comforts, its pities, its affections, are made central in our thought of God. We are taught, as children, that he loves us as our mothers do; and as from them we look for coddling when we cry for it, so are our expectations about God. Our religion becomes a selfish seeking for divine protection from life's ills, a recipe for ease, an expectant trust, that as we believe in God he in return will nurse us, unharmed and happy, through our lives. No one intimately acquainted with the religious life of men and women can be unaware of this widespread, ingrained belief in a soft, affectionate, grandmotherly God. What wonder that life brings fearful disillusionment! What wonder that in a world where all that is valuable has been "Battered with the shocks of doom To shape and use," the God of coddling love seems utterly impossible! The lack in this fallacious faith is central; there is no place in it for the movement of God's moral purpose. _To ascribe love to God without making it a quality of his unalterable purpose, which must sweep on through costs in suffering however great, is to misread the Gospel._ Many kinds of love are known in our experience, from a nursing mother with her babe to a military leader with his men. In Donald Hankey's picture of "the Beloved Captain" we see affection and tenderness, as beautiful as they are strong: "It was a wonderful thing, that smile of his. It was something worth living for, and worth working for.... It seemed to make one look at things from a different point of view, a finer point of view, his point of view. There was nothing feeble or weak about it.... It meant something. It meant that we were his men and that he was proud of us.... When we failed him, when he was disappointed in us, he did not smile. He did not rage or curse. He just looked disappointed, and that made us feel far more savage with ourselves than any amount of swearing would have done.... The fact was that he had won his way into our affections. We loved him. And there isn't anything stronger than love, when all's said and done." Yet, this Captain, loving and beloved, will lead his men in desperate charges, where death falls in showers, but where the purpose which their hearts have chosen forces them to go. The love of God must be like that; it surely is if Jesus' love is its embodiment. His affection for his followers, his solicitude and tenderness have been in Christian eyes, how beautiful! They shine in words like John's seventeenth chapter where love finds transcendent utterance. Yet this same Master said: "Behold, I send you forth as sheep in the midst of wolves" (Matt. 10:16); "Blessed are ye when men shall reproach you, and persecute you, and say all manner of evil against you falsely for my sake" (Matt. 5:11); "Then shall they deliver you up unto tribulation, and shall kill you; and ye shall be hated of all the nations for my name's sake" (Matt. 24:9); "They shall put you out of the synagogues; yea, the hour cometh, that whosoever killeth you shall think that he offereth service unto God" (John 16:2); "If any man cometh unto me, and hateth not his own father, and mother, and wife, and children, and brethren, and sisters, yea, and his own life also, he cannot be my disciple" (Luke 14:26). The love of Jesus was no coddling affection; it had for its center a moral purpose that balked at no sacrifice. He took crucifixion for himself, and to his beloved he cried, "If any man would come after me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross, and follow me" (Matt. 16:24). Such love is God's; and _preachers who advertise his Fatherhood as a gentle nurse that shelters us from suffering have sapped the Gospel of its moral power_. God's love is austere as well as bountiful; he is, as Emerson said, the "terrific benefactor." Indeed, faith in a God of coddling love may be one of the most pernicious influences in human life. Our trust, so misinterpreted, becomes a cushion on which to lie, a sedative by which to sleep. When ills afflict the world that men could cure, such misbelievers merely trust in God; when tasks await man's strength, they quietly retreat upon their faith that God is good and will solve all, until religion becomes a by-word and a hissing on the lips of earnest men. Such misbelievers have not dimly seen the Scripture's meaning, where faith is not a pillow but a shield, from behind which plays a sword (Eph. 6:16) and where men do not sleep by faith, but "fight the good fight of faith" instead (I Tim. 6:12). Or if such misbelievers do rouse themselves to lay hold on their Divinity, it is to demand God's love for them and not to offer their lives to God. As Sydney Smith exclaimed about some people's patriotism, "God save the King! in these times too often means, God save my pension and my place, God give my sisters an allowance out of the Privy Purse, let me live upon the fruits of other men's industry and fatten upon the plunder of the public." Faith in God never is elevated and ennobling until we overpass "_God for our lives!_" to cry "_Our lives for God!_" Then at the luminous center of our faith shines the divine purpose, costly but wonderful, that binds the ages together in spiritual unity. To that we dedicate our lives; in that we exceedingly rejoice. No longer do we test God's goodness by our happiness or our ill-fortune; we are _his_ through fair weather and through foul. No longer do we merely hold beliefs, we are held by them, captured now and not simply consoled by faith. Only so are we learning discipleship to Christ and are beginning really to believe in the Christian God. VII From all these common fallacies of thought and sentiment one turns to the New Testament to find the God of the Gospel. The very crux of the Good Tidings is that God is so much in earnest that he is the eternal Sufferer. The ancient Greeks had a god of perfect bliss; he floated on from age to age in undisturbed tranquillity; no cry of man ever reached his empyrean calm; his life was an endless stream of liquid happiness. How different this Greek deity is from ours may be perceived if one tries to say of him those things which the Scripture habitually says of God. "In all their affliction he was afflicted" (Isa. 63:9); "Can a woman forget her sucking child, that she should not have compassion on the son of her womb? yea, these may forget, yet will not I forget thee" (Isa. 49:15); "God, being rich in mercy, for his great love wherewith he loved us even when we were dead through our trespasses" (Eph 2:4, 5); "God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten Son" (John 3:16). None of these things that Christians say about their God can be said of a deity who dwells in tranquil bliss. Indeed let one stand over against a war-torn, unhappy world and try to think that God does not suffer in man's agony, and he will see how useless and incredible such a God would be. God looks on Belgium and he does not care; he looks on Armenia desolate and Poland devastated, and he does not care; he sits in heaven and sees his children wounded and alone in No-man's land, watches the deaths, the heart-breaks, the poverty of war, its ruined childhood and its shattered families, and he does not care--how impossible it is to believe in such a God! A God who does not care does not count. Christians, therefore, have the God who really meets the needs of men. He cares indeed, and, with all the modesty that words of human emotion must put on when they are applied to him, he suffers in the suffering of men and is crucified in his children's agonies. God limited himself in making such a world as this; in it he cannot lightly do what he will; he has a struggle on his heart; he makes his way upward against obstacles that man's imagination cannot measure. There is a cross forever at the heart of God. He climbs his everlasting Calvary toward the triumph that must come, and he is tremendously in earnest. One important consequence follows such faith as this. Confidence in such an earnest, sacrificial God makes inevitable the Christian faith in immortality. Our solar system is no permanent theater for God's eternal purposes; it is doomed to dissolution as certainly as any human body is doomed to die. In the Lick observatory one reads this notice under a picture of the sun: "The blue stars are considered to be in early life, the yellow stars in middle life, the red stars in old age.... From the quality of its spectrum the sun is classified as a star in middle age." Those, therefore, who, denying their own immortality, comfort themselves with prophesying endless progress for the race upon the earth, have no basis for their hopes. "We must therefore renounce those brilliant fancies," says Faye the scientist, "by which we try to deceive ourselves in order to endow man with unlimited posterity, and to regard the universe as the immense theater on which is to be developed a spontaneous progress without end. On the contrary, life must disappear, and the grandest material works of the human race will have to be effaced by degrees under the action of a few physical forces which will survive man for a time. Nothing will remain--'Even the ruins will perish.'" If one believes, therefore, in the God who is in earnest, he cannot content himself with such a universe--lacking any permanent element, any abiding reality in which the moral gains of man's long struggle are conserved. God's purpose cannot be so narrow in horizon that it is satisfied with a few million years of painful experiment, costly beyond imagination, yet with no issue to crown its sacrifice. In such a universe as Faye pictures, lacking immortality, generation after generation of men suffer, aspire, labor, and die, and this shall be the history of all creation, until at last Shakespeare's prophecy shall be fulfilled, "The cloud-capp'd towers, the gorgeous palaces, The solemn temples, the great globe itself, Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve And, like this insubstantial pageant faded, Leave not a rack behind." If such is to be the story of creation, there is no purpose in it and the Christian faith in an earnest God is vain. Only one truth is adequate to crown our confidence in a purposeful universe and to make it reasonable: _personality must persist_. We believe in immortality, not because we meanly want rewards ahead, but because in no other way can life, viewed as a whole, find sense and reason. If personality persists, this transient theater of action and discipline may serve its purpose in God's time, and disappear. He is in earnest, but not for rocks and suns and stars, he is in earnest about persons--the sheep of his pasture are men. They are not mortal; they carry over into the eternal world the spiritual gains of earth; and all life's struggle--its vicarious sacrifice, its fearful punishments, its labor for better circumstance and worthier life--is justified in its everlasting influence on personality. When we say that God cares, we mean no vague, diffusive attitude toward a system that lasts for limited millenniums and then comes to an uneventful end in a cold sun and a ruined earth. We mean that he cares for personality which is his child, that he suffers in the travail of his children's character, and that this divine solicitude has everlasting issues when the heavens "wax old like a garment." Still Paul's statement stands, one of the most worthy summaries of God's earnestness that ever has been written: "The creation waits with eager longing for the sons of God to be revealed" (Rom. 8:19).[6] [5] George Adam Smith's Translation. [6] Moffatt's Translation. CHAPTER X Faith in Christ the Savior: Forgiveness DAILY READINGS During the next two weeks we are to consider some of the distinctive meanings which faith in Christ has had for his disciples. They have found in that faith unspeakable blessing and have uttered their gratitude in radiant language. But, just because of this, many folk find themselves in difficulty. Their expectations concerning the Christian life have been lifted very high, and in their experience of it they have been disappointed. Their problem is not theoretical doubt, but practical disillusionment. Their difficulty lies in their experience that the Christian life, while it may be theoretically true, is not practically what it is advertised to be. At this common problem let us look in the daily readings. Tenth Week, First Day Many expect in the Christian experience an emotional life of joy and quietude which they have not found. They are led to expect this by many passages of Scripture about "peace in believing," by many hymns of exultation where a mood of unqualified spiritual triumph finds voice, and by testimonies of men who speak of living years without any depressed hours or flagging spirits. Such a wonderful life of elevated emotion many crave for themselves; they came into the Christian fellowship expecting it; and they neither have it, nor are likely to achieve it. Now the beauty of a clear, high emotional life no one can doubt, _but we must not demand it as a condition of our keeping faith_. We ought not to seek God simply for the sake of sensational experiences, no matter how desirable they may be. In all the ages before Christ, the outstanding example of deep personal religion, expressing itself in over forty years of splendidly courageous prophetic ministry, is Jeremiah, and his temperament was never marked by quietude and joy. His emotional life was profoundly affected by his faith: _courage was substituted for fear_. But if he had demanded the mood of the 103rd psalm as a price for continued faith, he would have lost his faith. He was not temperamentally constructed like the psalmist--and he was a far greater personality. We must not be too much concerned about our spiritual sensations. Consider the Master's parable about the two sons: one had amiable feelings, but his will was wrong, the other lacked satisfactory emotions, but he did the work. =But what think ye? A man had two sons; and he came to the first, and said, Son, go work to-day in the vineyard. And he answered and said, I will not: but afterward he repented himself, and went. And he came to the second, and said likewise. And he answered and said, I go, sir: and went not. Which of the two did the will of his father? They say, The first.--Matt. 21:28-31.= _Ah, Lord, unto whom all hearts are open; Thou canst govern the vessel of our souls far better than we can. Arise, O Lord, and command the stormy wind and the troubled sea of our hearts to be still, and at peace in Thee, that we may look up to Thee undisturbed, and abide in union with Thee, our Lord. Let us not be carried hither and thither by wandering thoughts, but, forgetting all else, let us see and hear Thee. Renew our spirits; kindle in us Thy light, that it may shine within us, and our hearts may burn in love and adoration towards Thee. Let Thy Holy Spirit dwell in us continually, and make us Thy temples and sanctuary, and fill us with Divine love and light and life, with devout and heavenly thoughts, with comfort and strength, with joy and peace. Amen._--Johann Arndt, 1555. Tenth Week, Second Day Many came into the Christian life because they needed conquering power in their struggle against sin. They were told that absolute victory could be theirs through Christ, and they set their hearts on that in ardent hope and expectation. But they are disappointed. That they have been helped they would not deny, but they find that the battle with besetting sin is a running fight; it has not been concluded by a final and resounding victory. This seems to them a denial of what Christian preachers and Christian hymns have promised, and perhaps it is. Hymns and preachers are not infallible. Christian experience, however, is plainly aligned against their disappointment. Some men under the power of Christ are immediately transformed so that an old sin becomes thenceforth utterly distasteful; even the desire for it is banished altogether. But a great preacher, only recently deceased, no less really under the power of Christ, had all his life to fight a taste for drink which once had mastered him. His battle never ceased. His victory consisted not in the elimination of his appetite, but in abiding power to keep up the struggle, to refuse subjugation to it, and at last gloriously to fall on sleep, admired and loved by his people who had seen in him steadfast, unconquerable will, sustained by faith. To have done with a sinful appetite in one conclusive victory is glorious; but we must not demand it as a price of keeping faith. Perhaps our victory must come through the kind of patient persistence which James the Apostle evidently knew. =Count it all joy, my brethren, when ye fall into manifold temptations; knowing that the proving of your faith worketh patience. And let patience have its perfect work, that ye may be perfect and entire, lacking in nothing.= =But if any of you lacketh wisdom, let him ask of God, who giveth to all liberally and upbraideth not; and it shall be given him. But let him ask in faith, nothing doubting: for he that doubteth is like the surge of the sea driven by the wind and tossed. For let not that man think that he shall receive anything of the Lord; a double-minded man, unstable in all his ways.--James 1:2-8.= _O Lord God Almighty, who givest power to the faint, and increasest strength to them that have no might; without Thee we can do nothing, but by Thy gracious assistance we are enabled for the performance of every duty laid upon us. Lord of power and love, we come, trusting in Thine almighty strength, and Thine infinite goodness, to ask from Thee what is wanting in ourselves; even that grace which shall help us such to be, and such to do, as Thou wouldst have us. O our God, let Thy grace be sufficient for us, and ever present with us, that we may do all things as we ought. We will trust in Thee, in whom is everlasting strength. Be Thou our Helper, to carry us on beyond our own strength, and to make all that we think, and speak, and do, acceptable in Thy sight; through Jesus Christ. Amen._--Benjamin Jenks, 1646. Tenth Week, Third Day =Jehovah is my shepherd; I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures; He leadeth me beside still waters. He restoreth my soul: He guideth me in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake. Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil; for thou art with me; Thy rod and thy staff, they comfort me.= =--Psalm 23:1-4.= What expectations are awakened by such a passage! Many have come into the Christian life because in experience they have found that "it is not in man that walketh to direct his steps." They wanted a Guide in the mysterious pilgrimage of life, and in the words of hymns like, "He leadeth me, O blessed thought!" they saw the promise of a God-conducted experience. But they are disappointed. They have the same old puzzles to face about what they ought to do; they have no divine illumination that clears up in advance their uncertainty as to the wisdom of their choices; they are not vividly aware of any guidance from above to save them from the perplexities which their companions face about conduct and career. Of course part of their difficulty is due to false expectation. Not even Paul or John was given mechanical guidance, infallible and unmistakable; they never had a syllabus of all possible emergencies with clear directions as to what should be done in every case; they were guided through their normal faculties made sensitive to divine suggestion, and doubtless they never could clearly distinguish between their thought and their inspirations. Divine guidance, did not save them from puzzling perplexities and unsure decisions. But it did give them certainty that they were in God's hands; that he had hold of the reins behind their human grasp; that when they did wisely and prayerfully the best they knew, he would use it somehow to his service. And so far as the vivid consciousness of being guided is concerned, that probably came _in retrospect_; when they saw how the road came out, they agreed that God's hand must have been in the journey. Such an experience it is reasonable to expect and possible to have. _O God our Lord, the stay of all them that put their trust in Thee, wherever Thou leadest we would go, for Thy ways are perfect wisdom and love. Even when we walk through the dark valley, Thy light can shine into our hearts and guide us safely through the night of sorrow. Be Thou our Friend, and we need ask no more in heaven or earth, for Thou art the Comfort of all who trust in Thee, the Help and Defence of all who hope in Thee. O Lord, we would be Thine; let us never fall away from Thee. We would accept all things without murmuring from Thy hand, for whatever Thou dost is right. Blend our wills with Thine, and then we need fear no evil nor death itself, for all things must work together for our good. Lord, keep us in Thy love and truth, comfort us with Thy light, and guide us by Thy Holy Spirit; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen._--S. Weiss, 1738. Tenth Week, Fourth Day Many folk grow up into the Christian life, and so interpret the love of God that they expect from him affectionate mothering; they look to him to keep them from trouble. In childhood, sheltered from life's tragic incidents, this expectation was more or less realized; but now in maturity they are disappointed. God has not saved them from trouble; he has not dealt with them in maternal tenderness. Rather Job's complaint to God is on their lips: =I cry unto thee, and thou dost not answer me: I stand up, and thou gazest at me. Thou art turned to be cruel to me; With the might of thy hand thou persecutest me....= =Did not I weep for him that was in trouble? Was not my soul grieved for the needy? When I looked for good, then evil came; And when I waited for light, there came darkness. My heart is troubled, and resteth not; Days of affliction are come upon me.= =--Job 30:20, 21; 25-27.= One such disappointed spirit says that in youth, even if she hurt her finger, she was told to pray to God and he would take away the bruise; but now life does not seem to be directed by that kind of a God at all. It isn't! A pregnant source of lost faith is to be found in this unscriptural presentation of God's love. In Scripture God's love for his people and their tragic suffering are put side by side, and the Cross where the well-beloved Son is crucified is typical of the whole Book's assertion that God does not keep his children from trouble. Sometimes he leads them into it; and always he lets the operation of his essential laws sweep on, so that disease and accident and death are no respecters of character. When Ananias was sent with God's message to the newly converted Paul, that greeting into the Christian life concerned "how many things he must suffer" (Acts 9:16). Whatever else our faith must take into account, this is an unescapable fact: we are seeking the impossible when we ask that our lives be arranged on the basis that we shall not face trouble. Faith means a conquering confidence that good will, a purpose of eternal love, runs through the whole process. It says, not apart from suffering, but in the face of it: "I'm apt to think the man That could surround the sum of things, and spy The heart of God and secrets of his empire, Would speak but love--with him the bright result Would change the hue of intermediate scenes, And make one thing of all Theology." _Almighty God to whom all things belong, whose is light and darkness, whose is good and evil, Master of all things, Lord of all; who hast so ordered it, that life from the beginning shall be a struggle throughout the course, and even to the end; so guide and order that struggle within us, that at last what is good in us may conquer, and all evil be overcome, that all things may be brought into harmony, and God may be all in all. So do Thou guide and govern us, that every day whatsoever betide us, some gain to better things, some more blessed joy in higher things may be ours, that so we, though but weaklings, may yet, God-guided, go from strength to strength, until at last, delivered from that burden of the flesh, through which comes so much struggling, we may enter into the land of harmony and of eternal peace. Hear us, of Thy mercy; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen._--George Dawson, 1877. Tenth Week, Fifth Day =Till we all attain unto the unity of the faith, and of the knowledge of the Son of God, unto a fullgrown man, unto the measure of the stature of the fulness of Christ: that we may be no longer children, tossed to and fro and carried about with every wind of doctrine, by the sleight of men, in craftiness, after the wiles of error; but speaking truth in love, may grow up in all things into him, who is the head, even Christ.--Eph. 4:13-15.= Many came into the Christian life familiar with such an idea of growth. They expected the new life to be an enlarging experience, with new vistas, deepening satisfactions, increasing certitude. If at the beginning the Christian way did not content them, they blamed their immaturity for the unsatisfactory experience; they appealed to the days ahead for fuller light. But they are disappointed. They have not grown. The most they can claim is that they are stationary; the haunting suspicion cannot altogether be avoided that their faith is dwindling and their fervor burning down. This difficulty is not strange--with many folk it is inevitable; for they have never grasped the fact that the Christian life, like all life whatsoever, is law-abiding, and that to expect effects without cause is vain. That a Christian experience has begun with promise does not mean that it will magically continue; that the spirit will naturally drift into an enlarging life. An emotional conversion, like a flaming meteor, may plunge into a man's heart, and soon cool off, leaving a dead, encysted stone. But to have a real life in God, that begins like a small but vital acorn and grows like an aspiring oak, one must obey the laws that make such increasing experience possible. To keep fellowship with God unimpeded by sin, uninterrupted by neglect; to think habitually as though God were, instead of casually believing that he is; to practice love continually until love grows real; and to arrange life's program conscientiously as though the doing of God's will were life's first business--such things alone make spiritual growth a possibility. _We desire to confess, O Lord, that we have not lived according to our promises, nor according to the thoughts and intents of our hearts. We have felt the gravitation of things that drew us downward from things high and holy. We have followed right things how feebly! Weak are we to resist the attraction of evils that lurk about the way of goodness; and we are conscious that we walk in a vain show. We behold and approve Thy law, but find it hard to obey; and our obedience is of the outside, and not of the soul and of the spirit, with heartiness and full of certainty. We rejoice that Thou art a Teacher patient with Thy scholars, and that Thou art a Father patient with Thy children. Thou art a God of long-suffering goodness, and of tender mercies, and therefore we are not consumed._ _And now we beseech of Thee, O Thou unwearied One, that Thou wilt inspire us with a heavenly virtue. Lift before us the picture of what we should be and what we should do, and maintain it in the light, that we may not rub it out in forgetfulness; that we may be able to keep before ourselves our high calling in Christ Jesus. And may we press forward, not as they that have attained or apprehended; may we press toward the mark, for the prize of our high calling in Christ Jesus, with new alacrity, with growing confidence, and with more and more blessedness of joy and peace in the soul. Amen._--Henry Ward Beecher. Tenth Week, Sixth Day The Christian experience which disappoints its possessor by lack of growth is common, because so many leave the idea of growth vague and undefined. They expect in general to grow, but in what direction, to what describable results, they never stop to think. If we ran our other business as thoughtlessly, with as little determinate planning and discipline, as we manage our Christian living, any progress would be impossible. What wonder that as Christians we often resemble the child who fell from bed at night, and explained the accident by saying, "I must have gone to sleep too near the place where I got in"! Growth is always in definite directions, and folk will do well at times, without morbid self-examination, to forecast their desired courses. Becoming Christians from motives of fear, as many do, we should press on to a fellowship with God in which fear vanishes in divine friendship and cooperation. Choosing the Christian life for self-centered reasons, because it can do great things for us, we should press on to glory in it as a Cause on which the welfare of the race depends and for which we willingly make sacrifice. Beginning with narrow ideas of service to our friends and neighborhood, we should press on to genuine interest in the world-field, in international fraternity, and in Christ's victory over all mankind. Such definite lines of progress we well may set before us. And a life that does grow, so that each new stage of maturing experience finds deeper levels and greater heights, is never disappointing; it is life become endlessly interesting and worth while. =Not that I have already obtained, or am already made perfect: but I press on, if so be that I may lay hold on that for which also I was laid hold on by Christ Jesus. Brethren, I count not myself yet to have laid hold: but one thing I do, forgetting the things which are behind, and stretching forward to the things which are before, I press on toward the goal unto the prize of the high calling of God in Christ Jesus. Let us therefore, as many as are perfect, be thus minded: and if in anything ye are otherwise minded, this also shall God reveal unto you: only, whereunto we have attained, by that same rule let us walk.--Phil. 3:12-16.= _Our Father, we pray Thee that we may use the blessings Thou hast given us, and never once abuse them. We would keep our bodies enchanted still with handsome life, wisely would we cultivate the intellect which Thou hast throned therein, and we would so live with conscience active and will so strong that we shall fix our eye on the right, and, amid all the distress and trouble, the good report and the evil, of our mortal life, steer straightway there, and bate no jot of human heart or hope. We pray Thee that we may cultivate still more these kindly hearts of ours, and faithfully perform our duty to friend and acquaintance, to lover and beloved, to wife and child, to neighbor and nation, and to all mankind. May we feel our brotherhood to the whole human race, remembering that nought human is strange to our flesh but is kindred to our soul. Our Father, we pray that we may grow continually in true piety, bringing down everything which would unduly exalt itself, and lifting up what is lowly within us, till, though our outward man perish, yet our inward man shall be renewed day by day, and within us all shall be fair and beautiful to Thee, and without us our daily lives useful, our whole consciousness blameless in Thy sight. Amen._--Theodore Parker. Tenth Week, Seventh Day While some, for reasons such as we have suggested, have made at least a partial failure of the Christian life, and are tempted to feel that their experience is an argument against it, we may turn with confidence to the multitude who have found life with Christ an ineffable blessing. =There is therefore now no condemnation to them that are in Christ Jesus. For the law of the Spirit of life in Christ Jesus made me free from the law of sin and of death. For what the law could not do, in that it was weak through the flesh, God, sending his own Son in the likeness of sinful flesh and for sin, condemned sin in the flesh: that the ordinance of the law might be fulfilled in us, who walk not after the flesh, but after the Spirit. For they that are after the flesh mind the things of the flesh; but they that are after the Spirit the things of the Spirit. For the mind of the flesh is death; but the mind of the Spirit is life and peace.--Rom. 8:1-6.= Innumerable disciples of Jesus can subscribe to this Pauline testimony, and the center of their gratitude, as of his, is the victory over sin which faith in Christ has given them. The farther they go with him the more wonderful becomes the meaning of his Gospel. What Thomas Fuller, in the seventeenth century, wrote about the Bible, they feel about their whole relationship with Christ: "Lord, this morning I read a chapter in the Bible, and therein observed a memorable passage, whereof I never took notice before. Why now, and no sooner, did I see it? Formerly my eyes were as open, and the letters as legible. Is there not a thin veil laid over Thy Word, which is more rarified by reading, and at last wholly worn away? I see the oil of Thy Word will never leave increasing whilst any bring an empty barrel." As for the consciousness of filial alliance with the God and Father of Jesus, that has been a deepening benediction. How many can take over the dual inscription on an ancient Egyptian temple, as an expression of their own experience! A priest had written, in the name of the Deity, "I am He who was and is and ever shall be, and my veil hath no man lifted." But near at hand, some man of growing life and deepening faith has added: "Veil after veil have we lifted, and ever the Face is more wonderful." _Eternal and Gracious Father, whose presence comforteth like sunshine after rain; we thank Thee for Thyself and for all Thy revelation to us. Our hearts are burdened with thanksgiving at the thought of all Thy mercies; for all the blessings of this mortal life, for health, for reason, for learning, and for love; but far beyond all thought and thankfulness, for Thy great redemption. It was no painless travail that brought us to the birth, it has been no common patience that has borne with us all this while; long-suffering love, and the breaking of the eternal heart alone could reconcile us to the life to which Thou hast ordained us. We have seen the Son of Man sharing our sickness and shrinking not from our shame, we have beheld the Lamb of God bearing the sins of the world, we have mourned at the mysterious passion and stood astonished at the cross of Jesus Christ; and behind all we have had the vision of an altar-throne and one thereon slain from the foundation of the world; heard a voice calling us that was full of tears; seen beyond the veil that was rent, the agony of God._ _O for a thousand tongues to sing the love that has redeemed us. O for a thousand lives that we might yield them all to Thee. Amen._--W. E. Orchard. COMMENT FOR THE WEEK I Hitherto in our studies we have thought of God as the object of our faith. From the beginning, to be sure, we have been using the Master as the Way. The God who is in earnest about immortal personalities is supremely revealed in Jesus Christ. But through Christ's mediation we have been trying to pierce to the Eternal character and purpose; we have been taking Jesus at his word, "He that believeth on me, believeth not on me but on him that sent me" (John 12:44). The meaning of faith for the Christian, however, cannot be left as though Christ were an instrument which God used for his revealing and then thrust aside, a symbol in terms of whom we may poetically picture God. Christ has been for his people more than a transparent pane, itself almost forgettable, through which the divine light shone. His personality has been central and dominant, and when his disciples have most vividly expressed the meaning of their faith they have said that they believed in him. The first Christians whose experience is enshrined in the New Testament did not deal with faith in God alone. They adored Jesus; they were illimitably thankful to him; they rejoiced to call themselves his bondservants and to suffer for him; they claimed him as a brother, but they acknowledged him their Lord as well; and they bowed before him with inexpressible devotion. "They all set him in the same incomparable place. They all acknowledged to him the same immeasurable debt." One need not read far in the New Testament to see why these first disciples so adored their Lord. He was their Savior. They called him by many other names--Messiah, _Logos_, Son of Man, and Son of God--in their endeavor to do justice to his work and character, but one name shines among all the rest and swings them about it like planets round a sun. He is the Savior. From the annunciation to Joseph, "Thou shalt call his name Jesus; for it is he that shall save his people from their sins" (Matt. 1:21), to the New Song of the Apocalypse (Rev. 5:5-13), the New Testament is written around the central theme of saviorhood. These first disciples were vividly aware of an abysmal need, which had been met in Christ, a great peril from which through him they had escaped; and throughout the New Testament one never loses the accent of astonished gratitude, from folk who were once slaves and now are free, who from victims have been turned to victors. When Wilberforce's long campaign for the freeing of British slaves was at its climax, the population of Jamaica lined the shore for days awaiting the ship that should bring news of Parliament's decision. And when from a boat's prow the messenger cried "Freedom," the island rang with the thanksgiving of the liberated. Such rejoicing one hears in the New Testament. The disciples speak of the freedom wherewith Christ has set them free (Gal. 5:1); they say that they were dead and now are made alive (Rom. 6:11-13); once overwhelmed by sin, they now cry, "More than conquerors" (Rom. 8:37). Nor have they any doubt who is the agent or what is the agency of their salvation: Christ is the Savior and faith the means. "This is the victory that hath overcome the world," they cry, "even our faith" (I John 5:4). If we are to understand this attitude of the first disciples toward Christ the Savior, _we must appreciate as they did the peril from which he rescued them_. One cannot understand the meaning of any character who, like Moses, delivered a people from their bondage, unless he deeply feels the importance of the problem to whose solution the man contributed. Moses shines out against the background of a nation's trouble like a star against the midnight sky. When the blackness of the night is gone, the star has vanished, too. The race's deliverers never can retain their brightness in our gratitude unless we keep alive in our remembrance the evil against which they fought. If we would know Moses, we must know Pharaoh; if we would know Wellington, we must know Napoleon. If we are to value truly the great educators, we must estimate aright the blight that ignorance lays on human life. John Howard will be nothing to us, if we do not know the ancient prison system in comparison with which even our modern jails are paradise; and Florence Nightingale will be an empty name, if we cannot imagine the terrors of war without a nurse. Always we must see the stars against the night. Nor is there any other way in which a Christian can keep alive a vital understanding of his Lord. Many modern Christians seem to have lost vision of the problem that Jesus came to solve, of the human peril to whose conquest he made the supreme contribution. They think that the Church has adored Jesus because of a metaphysical theory about him, but all theories concerning Christ have arisen from a previous devotion to him. Or they think that Jesus is adored because he was so uniquely beautiful in character. But while without this his people never would have called him Lord, not on this account chiefly have they looked on him with inexpressible devotion. No one can understand the Christian attitude toward Jesus except in terms of the bondage from which he came to rescue us. There is a human cry that makes his advent meaningful; it is like the night behind the star of Bethlehem. Long ago a Psalmist heard that cry and every age and land and soul has echoed it, "My sins are mightier than I" (Psalm 65:3).[7] II The peril of sin as the innermost problem of human life is in these days obscure to many minds. For one thing, sin has been so continuously preached about, that it seems to some an ecclesiastical question, fit for discussion, it may be, in a church on Sunday, but otherwise not often emerging in ordinary thought. But sin is no specialty of preaching. If a man, forgetting churches and sermons, seriously ponders human life as he knows it actually to be, if he gathers up in his imagination the deepest heartaches of the race, its worst diseases, its most hopeless miseries, its ruined childhood, its dissevered families, its fallen states, its devastated continents, he soon will see that the major cause of all this can be spelled with three letters--sin. To make vivid this peril as the very crux of humanity's problem on the earth, one needs at times to leave behind the customary thoughts and phrases of religion and to seek testimony from sources that the Church frequently forgets. When governments try to build social states where equity and happiness shall reign, their prison systems, their criminal codes, their courts of law loudly advertise that their problem lies in sin. When jurists plan leagues of nations and sign covenants to make the world a more fraternal place, only to find greed, hate, and cruelty demolishing their well-laid schemes, their failure uncovers the crucial problem of man's sin. When philanthropists try to lift from man's bent back the burdens that oppress him, it becomes plain how infinitely their task would be lightened, if it were not for sin. As for literature--where the seers, regardless of religious prejudice, have tried to see into the human heart and truly to report their insights--its witness is overwhelming as to what man's problem is. No great book of creative literature was ever written without sin at the center. Macbeth, Hamlet, Othello, Faust, Les Misérables, Romola, The Scarlet Letter--let the list be extended in any direction and to any length! Always the insight of the creative seers reports one inner peril of the race. Sin is no bogey erected by the theologians, no ghost imagined by minds grown morbid with the fear of God. Sin to every seeing eye is the one most real and practical problem of mankind. For another reason this crucial problem is dimly seen by many minds: we do not often use the word about ourselves. The hardest thing that any man can ever say is "I have sinned." We make mistakes, we have foibles of character and conduct, we even fall into error--but we do not often sin. By such devices we avoid the painful consciousness of our inward malady and even the name of our disease is banished from decorous speech. But sin does not go into exile with its name. Sin has many aliases and can swiftly shift its guise to gain a welcome into any company. Sin in the slums is gross and terrible. It staggers down the streets, blasphemes with oaths that can be heard, wallows in vice unmentionable by modest lips. Then some day prosperity may visit it. It moves to a finer residence, seeks the suburbs, or finds domicile on a college campus. It changes all its clothes. No longer is it indecent and obscene. Its speech is mild, its civility is irreproachable. It gathers a company of friends who minister to pleasure and respectability, and the cry of the world's need dies unheard at its peaceful door. It presses its face continually through the pickets of social allowance, like a bad boy who wishes to trespass on forbidden ground but fears the consequence. Its goodness is superficial seeming; at heart it is as bad as it dares to be. It has completely changed its garments, but it is the same sin--indulgent, selfish, and unclean. Sin, as anyone can easily observe, takes a very high polish. Neither by calling sin an ecclesiastical concern nor by covering its presence in ourselves with pleasant euphemisms can we hide its deadly bane in human life. The truth and import of this negative statement become clear and convincing when its positive counterpart is faced. The world needs _goodness_. The one thing in which mankind is poor and for the lack of which great causes lag and noble hopes go unfulfilled is character. With each access of that humanity leaps forward; with the sag of that all else is failure. And the one name for every loss and lack and ruin of character is sin. That is our enemy. Upon the defeat of that all our dearest hopes depend, and in its victory every dream of good that the race has cherished comes to an end. III The urgency of this truth is manifest when we note the consequence of sin in our own lives. No statement from antiquity has accumulated more confirming evidence in the course of the centuries than the Psalmist's cry, "My sins are mightier than I." Let us consider its truth in the light of our experience. Our sins are stronger than we are _in their power to fasten on us a sense of guilt that we cannot shake off_. Sinful pleasures lure us only in _anticipation_, dancing before us like Salome before her uncle, quite irresistible in fascination. Happiness seems altogether to depend upon an evil deed. But on the day that deed, long held in alluring expectation, is actually done--how swift and terrible the alteration in its aspect! It passes from anticipation, through committal, into memory, and it never will be beautiful again. We lock it in remembrance, as in the bloody room of Bluebeard's palace, where the dead things hung; at the thought of it we shrink and yet to it our reminiscence continually is drawn. Something happens in us as automatic as the dropping of a loosened apple from a tree; all the laws of the moral universe conspire to further it and we have no power to prevent: sin becomes guilt. When on a lonely ocean the floating bell-buoys toll, no human hands cause them to ring; the waste of an unpeopled ocean surrounds them everyway. The sea by its own restlessness is ringing its own bells. So tolls remorse in a man's heart and no man can stop it. Our sins are stronger than we are _in their power to become habitual_. If one who steps from an upper window had only the single act to consider, his problem would be simple. He could step or not as he chose. But when one steps from an upper window he finds himself dealing with a power over which his will has no control. Master of his single act, he is not master of the _gravitation_ that succeeds it. Many a youth blithely plays with sin, supposing that separate deeds--which he may do or refrain from as he will--make up the problem. Soon or late he finds that he is dealing with moral laws, built into the structure of the universe as gravitation is--laws which he did not create and whose operation he cannot control. By them with terrific certainty thoughts grow to deeds, deeds to habits, habits to character, character to destiny. At the beginning sin always comes disguised as liberty. Its lure is the seductive freedom which it promises from the trammels of conscience and the authority of law. But every man who ever yet accepted sin's offer of a free, unfettered life, discovered the cheat. Free to do the evil thing, to indulge the baser moods--so men begin, but they end _not free to stop_, bound as slaves to the thing that they were free to do. They have been at liberty to play with a cuttle-fish, and now that the first long arm with its suckers grasps them, and the second arm is waving near, they are not at liberty to get away. Our sins are mightier than we are _in their power to make us tempt our fellows_. When we picture our sinfulness, even to ourselves, we naturally represent our lives assailed by the allurements of evil and passively surrendering. We are the tempted; we pity ourselves because the outward pressure was too strong for the inward braces. We forget that in sin we are not simply the passive subjects of temptation; sin always makes us active tempters of our fellows. No drug fiend ever is content until he wins a comrade in his vice; a thief would have his friends steal, too; a gossip is not satisfied until other lips are tearing reputations into shreds; and vindictiveness is happiest when other hearts as well are lighted with lurid tempers. Sin always is contagious as disease is; the tempted becomes tempter on the instant that he falls. Peter weak, lures Jesus to his weakness, and the Master recognizes the active quality of his disciple's sin; "Get thee behind me, Satan!" (Matt. 16:23). Sin satanizes men and sends them out to seduce their fellows. When, therefore, a sensitive man repents of his evil, he abhors himself--not mildly as a victim, but profoundly as a victimizer. He repents of the way he has played Satan to others, sometimes deliberately, sometimes by the unconscious influence of an unworthy spirit. He remembers the times when his words have poisoned the atmosphere which others breathed, when his tempers have conjured up evil spirits in other hearts, when his attitude has made wrongdoing easy for his friends and family, and well-doing hard. And his desperate helplessness in the face of sin is made most evident when he recalls the irrecoverable injury which lives have suffered and are suffering, hurt, perhaps ruined, by his evil. _Our sins are mightier than we are in their power to bring their natural consequences upon other lives._ The landlord, of whom President Hyde has told, who without disinfection rented to a new family an apartment where a perilous disease had been, is typical of every evil-doer. When the only child of the incoming family fell sick of the disease and died, and the landlord was faced with his guilt, he pleaded his unwillingness to spend the money which the disinfection would have cost. He denied his Lord for ten dollars. Let the law punish him as it can, the crux of his moral problem lies in the fact that however much he may be sorry now, he never can bear all the consequences of his sin. Somewhere there is a childless home bearing part of the result of his iniquity. One who had done a deed like that might well crave death and oblivion. But everyone who ever sinned is in that estate. No man ever succeeded in building around his evil a wall high and thick enough to contain all evil's consequences. They always flow over and seep through; they fall in cruel disaster on those who love us best. One never estimates his sin aright until he sees that no man ever bears all the results of his own evil. Always our sins nail somebody else to a cross; they even "crucify ... the Son of God afresh" (Heb. 6:6). Such is the meaning of the peril against whose background the New Testament believers saw the luminous figure of the Savior. Sin brings men into the debt of a great guilt which they cannot pay and into the bondage of tyrannous habits which they cannot break; it makes men tempting satans to their fellows, and it hurls its results like vitriol across the faces of their family and friends. And when one looks on the lamentable evils of the world at large, its sad inequities, its furious wars, he sees no need to deal delicately with sin or to speak of it in apologetic tones. Sin is, as the New Testament saw it, the central problem of mankind. If anyone has ever come with the supreme contribution to its conquest, the face of the world may well be turned toward him today. In the Christian's faith, such a Savior has come. For if the visitor from Mars who so often has been imagined coming to earth, should come again, and amazed at the churches built, the anthems sung, the service wrought in Jesus' name, should curiously inquire what this character had done to awaken such response, we should have to answer: Jesus of Nazareth made no direct contribution to science or art or government or law--with none of these important realms did he concern himself. Only one thing he did: _he made the indispensable contribution to man's fight for great character against sin_. And because that is man's crucial problem, all science, art, government, and law are under an unpayable indebtedness to him. Because that is man's innermost need, his birthday has become the hinge of history, until one cannot write a letter to his friend without dating his familiar act from the advent of him who came to save us in our struggle for godliness against evil. IV Faith in Christ has a double relationship with the problem of man's sin; it concerns _the basis on which we are to be judged and the strength by which we are to conquer_. Christ has brought to men a gospel of forgiveness and power. With regard to the first--and with the first alone this chapter is concerned--the opinion of many modern men is swift and summary: folk are to be judged by what they do; the output of a man, as of a machine, is the test of him. Until this popular method of judgment is convicted of inadequacy, there is no hope of understanding what Christians have meant by being "saved through faith" (Eph. 2:8). We must see that men are worth more than they _do_. A man's deeds alone are an insufficient basis for judgment, because _motives for the same act may be low or high_. No one can be unaware of the Master's meaning when he speaks of those who do their alms before men to be seen of them (Matt. 6:1ff), or of Paul's when he says, "If I bestow all my goods to feed the poor ... but have not love" (I Cor. 13:3). Some men habitually shine to good advantage by such means; they have the facile gift of putting their best foot forward. Like a store at Christmas time, its finest goods in the window and inferior stock for sale upon the counters, they are infinitely skilful in gaining more credit than their worth deserves. One who has dealt with such folk becomes aware that to estimate an isolated deed is superficial; one must know the motive. A cup of cold water or a widow's penny may awake the Master's spirited approval, and millions rung into the temple treasury by showy Pharisees meet only scorn. Deeds alone are an insufficient basis for judgment because, while we are more than body, _our bodies are the instruments of all that visibly we do_. Many a man in spirit is like a swift mill race, eager for service, but the flesh, a battered mill wheel, ill sustains the spirit's vehemence; it breaks before the shock. One must shut the gates and patch up the wheel, before the spirit, impatient for utterance, may have its way again; and some mill-wheels never can be mended. Says one of Robert Louis Stevenson's biographers: "When a temporary illness lays him on his back, he writes in bed one of his most careful and thoughtful papers, the discourse on 'The Technical Elements in Style.' When ophthalmia confines him to a darkened room, he writes by the diminished light. When after hemorrhage, his right hand has to be held in a sling, he writes some of his 'Child's Garden' with his left hand. When the hemorrhage has been so bad that he dare not speak, he dictates a novel in the deaf and dumb alphabet." When one has lived with handicapped folk, discerning behind the small amount of work the infinite willingness for more, and in the work done a quality that makes quantity seem negligible, he perceives that deeds are no sufficient measure of spiritual value. Only an eye that pierces behind the unwrought work to the _man_, willing while the flesh was weak, can ever estimate how much some spirits are worth. Deeds alone are an insufficient basis for judgment because _men face unequal opportunities_. Some start with one talent, some with ten. The cherished son of a Christian family ought to live a decent life; how favorable his chance! But if a vagrant wharf-rat by some mysterious vision of decency and determination of character makes a man of himself, how much more his credit! The worth of goodness cannot be estimated without knowledge of the struggle which it cost. When one considers the smug, conventional respectability of some, possessing every favorable help to goodness, and the rough but genuine integrity of others who have fought a great fight against crippling handicaps to character, he sees why, in any righteous judgment, the last will be first, as Jesus said, and the first last. Only God, with power to understand what heredity and circumstance some men have faced, what enticements they have met, what a fight they have really waged even when they may have seemed to fail, can tell how much they are worth. "What's done we partly may compute, But know not what's resisted." Judgment based on deeds alone can never truly estimate a man, because in every important decision of our lives an _"unpublished self" finds no expression in our outward act_. Duty is not always clear; at times it seems a labyrinth without a clue. Perplexed, we balance in long deliberation the opposing reasons for this act or that, until, forced to choose, we obtain only a majority vote for the decision. Yet that uncertain majority alone is published in our deed; man's eyes never see the unexpressed protestant minority behind. And when the choice proves wrong, and friends are grieved and enemies condemn and what we did is hateful to ourselves, only one who knows how much we wanted to do right, and who accounts not only the published but the unpublished self can truly estimate our worth. Peter, who denied his Lord, it may be because he wanted the privilege of being near him at the trial, is not the only one who has appealed from the outward aspect of his deed to the inner intention of his heart: "Lord, thou knowest all things; thou knowest that I love thee" (John 21:17). Moreover, even when we choose aright, _no deed can ever gather into utterance all that is best and deepest in us_. A mother's love is as much greater than any word she speaks or act she does, as the sunshine is greater than the focused point where in a burning glass we gather a ray of it. We are infinitely more than words can utter or deeds express. No adequate judgment, therefore, can rest on deeds alone. A machine may be estimated by its output, but a man is too subtle and profound, his motives and purposes too inexpressible, his temptations and inward struggles too intimate and unrevealed, his possibilities too great to be roughly estimated by his acts alone. "Not on the vulgar mass Called 'work' must sentence pass, Things done, that took the eye and had the price; O'er which, from level stand, The low world laid its hand, Found straightway to its mind, could value in a trice: But all, the world's coarse thumb And finger failed to plumb, So passed in making up the main account; All instincts immature, All purposes unsure, That weighed not as his work, yet swelled the man's amount: Thoughts hardly to be packed Into a narrow act, Fancies that broke through language and escaped; All I could never be, All, men ignored in me, This, I was worth to God, whose wheel the pitcher shaped." V If, however, we are to understand the Christian's meaning when he speaks of being saved by faith (Rom. 3:28; 5:1; Gal. 3:24), we need to see not only that men are worth more than they _do_, but as well that they are worth more than they _are_. Some things always start large and grow small; some things always start small and grow large; but a man may do either, and his value is determined not so much by the position he is in, as it is by the direction in which he is moving. Even of stocks upon the market in their rise and fall this truth is clear. The figure at which a stock is quoted is important, but the meaning of that figure cannot be understood unless one knows whether it was reached on the way up or the way down. How much more is any static judgment of a man impossible! One starts at the summit, with endowments and opportunities that elevate him far above his fellows, and frittering away his chance, drifts down. Another, beginning at the bottom, by dint of resolute endeavor climbs upward, achieving character in the face of odds before which ordinary men succumb. Somewhere these two men will pass, and, statically judged, will be of equal worth. But one is drifting down; one climbing up. The innermost secret of their spiritual value lies in that hidden fact. _When, therefore, one would judge a man, he must pierce behind the deeds that he can see, behind the present quality that he can estimate, back to the thing the man has set his heart upon, to the direction of his life, to the ideal which masters him--that is, to his faith._ There lies the potential future of the man, his ultimate worth, the seed of his coming fruit. If one has eyes to see what that faith is, he knows the man and what the man is bound to be. When, therefore, men set their hearts on Christ, lay hold on him by faith as life's Master and its goal, that faith opens the door to God's forgiveness. In Augustine's luminous phrase, "The Christian already has in Christ what he hopes for in himself." He is Christ's brother in the filial life with God, young, immature, undeveloped--but the issue of that life is the measure of the stature of Christ's fulness. God does not demand the end when only the beginning is possible, does not scorn the dawn because it is not noon. He welcomes the first movement of man's spirit toward him, not for the fruit which yet is unmatured, but for the seed which still is in the germ; he takes the will for the deed, because the will is earnest; he sees the journey's end in Christlike character, when at the road's beginning the pilgrim takes the first step by faith. There is no fiction here; God ought to forgive and welcome such a man. All good parents act so toward their children. This divine grace corresponds with truth, for a man is _worth_ the central, dominant faith, that determines life's direction and decides its goal. And the Gospel that God so deals with man, announced in the words of Jesus, illustrated in his life, sealed in his death, has been a boon to the race that puts all men under an immeasurable debt to Christ. VI This method of judgment which all good men use with their friends and families has been often disbelieved, in its Christian formulations, because it has been misrepresented and misunderstood. But human life, far outside religious boundaries, continually illustrates the wisdom and righteousness of so judging men by faith. Roswell McIntyre deserted during the Civil War; he was caught, court-martialled, and condemned to death. He stood with no defense for his deed, no just complaint against the penalty, and with nothing to plead save shame for his act, and faith that, with another chance, he could play the man. On that, the last recourse of the condemned, President Lincoln pardoned him. "EXECUTIVE MANSION, Oct. 4, 1864. Upon condition that Roswell McIntyre of Co. E, 6th Reg't of New York Cavalry, returns to his Regiment and faithfully serves out his term, making up for lost time, or until otherwise discharged, he is fully pardoned for any supposed desertion heretofore committed, and this paper is his pass to go to his regiment. ABRAHAM LINCOLN." Was such clemency an occasion for lax character? The answer is written across the face of Mr. Lincoln's letter in the archives: "Taken from the body of R. McIntyre at the Battle of Five Forks, Va., 1865." Five Forks was the last cavalry action of the war; McIntyre went through to the finish. Any one who knows the experience of being forgiven understands the motives that so remake a pardoned deserter. The relief from the old crushing condemnation, the joy of being trusted again beyond desert, the gratitude that makes men rather die than be untrue a second time, the unpayable indebtedness from which ambition springs, "whether at home or absent, to be well-pleasing unto him" (II Cor. 5:9)--this is the moral consequence of being pardoned. Goodness so begotten reaches deep and high, has in it conscious joy and hope, feels vividly the value of its moral victories, possesses great motives for sacrificial service in the world. The Apocalypse is right. There is a song in heaven that angels cannot sing. Only men like McIntyre will know how to sing it. The vital and transforming faith that saves is always better presented in a story than in an argument, and in the Scripture the best description of it is Jesus' parable of the Prodigal. As the Master drew that portrait of life in the far country, all the watching Pharisees thought that such a boy was lost. The Prodigal himself must have guessed that his case was hopeless. His friends, his character, his reputation, his will were gone, and in the inner court-room of his soul with maddening iteration he heard sentence passed, Guilty. Only one hope remained. If he was unspoiled enough by the far country's pitiless brutality to think that at home they might bear no grudge, might find forgiveness possible, might offer him another chance as a hired servant, if he could think that perhaps his father even _wanted_ him to come home, then there was hope. With such slender faith the boy turned back from the far country. He had the same lack of character, the same weakened will, the same evil habits. Only one difference had as yet been wrought. Before, he had been facing toward swine, now he was facing toward home. The _direction_ of his life was changed by faith. And when the father saw him, homeward bound, "_while he was yet afar off,_" forgiveness welcomed him. No pardon could unload from the lad's life all the fearful consequences of his sin. As long as he lived, the scars on health, repute, and usefulness were there. But forgiveness could take the sin away _as a barrier to personal friendship with the father_; the old relationships of mutual confidence, helpfulness, and love could be restored; the glorious chance could be bestowed of fighting through the battle for character, not hopelessly in the far country, but victoriously at home. One of the chief glories of the Gospel is that it has so reclaimed the waste of humanity, made sons of Prodigals and patriots of McIntyres. Its Pauls were persecutors, its Augustines the slaves of lust, and its rank and file men and women to whom Christ's message has meant forgiveness, reinstatement, a new chance, and boundless hope. Scientific business conserves its waste and makes invaluable by-products from what once was slag; but Christ has been the conserver of mankind. The lost and sick have been returned to sanity and wholesomeness and service; humanity has been enriched beyond computation, with Bunyans and Goughs and Jerry McAuleys. Tolstoi's simple confession in "My Religion" is typical of multitudes: "Five years ago I came to believe in Christ's teaching, and my life suddenly became changed: I ceased desiring what I had wished before, and began to desire what I had not wished before. What formerly had seemed good to me appeared bad, and what had seemed bad appeared good.... The direction of my life, my desires became different: what was good and bad changed places." Tolstoi had indulged, as he acknowledges, in every form of unmentionable vice practiced in Russia; and yet forgiven, reinstated, transformed, he was carried to his burial by innumerable Russian peasants with banners flying. Where Christ's influence has vitally come, the loss and wreck and flotsam of the moral world have been so reclaimed to character and power. At the beginning of the Christian era, a few desolate sand lagoons lay off the Paduan coast of Italy. There the wild fowl made their nests; the lonely skiffs of fishermen threaded the reedy channels; the storms washed the shifting and uncertain sands. And possibly to this day the lagoons would have been thus barren and deserted, had not the Huns swept down on Italy. The Huns made the building of Venice necessary. They did not intend so fair a consequence of their terrific onslaughts. Their thoughts were on death and pillage. But because they came, the Italians fled to the lagoons, built there, behind the barricade of restless waters, their gleaming city, developed there the commerce that combed the world, built the Doge's palace as the abode of justice, and raised St. Mark's in praise of God. Venice was the city of Salvation; it rose resplendent because the Huns had come. So Christ turns the ruin of sin to victory, and builds in human life character, recovered and triumphant. If his Gospel can have its way, a spiritual Venice will arise to make the onslaught of the moral Huns an evil with a glorious issue. What wonder that inexpressible devotion has been felt for him by all his people? [7] "Iniquities prevail against me." CHAPTER XI Faith in Christ the Savior: Power DAILY READINGS As we saw in the last week's study, Christian faith has always centered around the person of Jesus himself. This week let us consider some testimonies from the New Testament as to the meaning and effect of this definitely Christian faith. Eleventh Week, First Day It must be clear to any observing mind that the world does not suffer from lack of faith. There is faith in plenty; everybody is exercising it on some object. In the Bible we read of folk who "trust in vanity" (Isa. 59:4), who "trust in lying words" (Jer. 7:4), or "in the abundance of riches" (Psalm 52:7); and the Master exclaims over the difficulty which those who "trust in riches" have when they try to enter the Kingdom of God (Mark 10:24). Faith, then, is a necessary faculty of the soul: the power by which we commit ourselves to any object that wins our devotion and commands our allegiance. No man avoids its use, and men differ only in the objects toward which their faith is directed. Of all the tragedies caused by the misuse of human powers, none is more frequent and disastrous than the ruin that follows the misuse of faith. With this necessary and powerful faculty in our possession, capable of use on things high or low, to what determination can a man more reasonably set himself than this?--_since I must and do use faith on something, I will choose the highest_. It is with such a rational and worthy choice that the Christian turns to Jesus. He is the best we know; we will direct our faith toward him. This does not mean that in the end our faith does not rest on God; it does, for Jesus is the Way, the Door, as he said, and faith in him moves up through him to the One who sent him. As Paul put it, "Such confidence have we through Christ to God-ward" (II Cor. 3:4). But faith in Jesus is the most vivid, true, and compelling way we have of committing ourselves to the highest and best we know. In the light of this truth, we can understand why John calls such faith the supreme "work" which God demands of us. =Work not for the food which perisheth, but for the food which abideth unto eternal life, which the Son of man shall give unto you: for him the Father, even God, hath sealed. They said therefore unto him, What must we do, that we may work the works of God? Jesus answered and said unto them, This is the work of God, that ye believe on him whom he hath sent.--John 6:27-29.= _Gracious Father! Thou hast revealed Thyself gloriously in Jesus Christ, the Son of Thy love. In Him we have found Thee, or rather, are found of Thee. By His life, by His words and deeds, by His trials and sufferings, we are cleansed from sin and rise into holiness. For in Him Thou hast made disclosure of Thine inmost being and art drawing us into fellowship with Thy life. As we stand beneath His Cross, or pass with Him into the Garden of His Agony, it is Thy heart that we see unveiled, it is the passion of Thy love yearning over the sinful, the wandering, seeking that it may save them. No man hath seen Thee at any time, but out from the unknown has come the Son of Man to declare Thee. And now we know Thy name. When we call Thee Father, the mysteries of existence are not so terrible, our burdens weigh less heavily upon us, our sorrows are touched with joy. Thy Son has brought the comfort that we need, the comfort of knowing that in all our afflictions Thou art afflicted, that in Thy grief our lesser griefs are all contained. Let the light which shines in His face, shine into our hearts, to give us the knowledge of Thy glory, to scatter the darkness of fear, of wrong, of remorse, of foreboding, and to constrain our lives to finer issues of peace and power and spiritual service. And this prayer we offer in Christ's name. Amen._--Samuel McComb. Eleventh Week, Second Day The New Testament clearly reveals the experience that _forgiveness_ comes in answer to such self-committing faith in Christ as we spoke of yesterday. =And he said unto her, Thy sins are forgiven. And they that sat at meat with him began to say within themselves, Who is this that even forgiveth sins? And he said unto the woman, Thy faith hath saved thee; go in peace.--Luke 7:48-50.= In popular thought forgiveness is often shallowly conceived. It is thought to be an easy agreement to forget offense, a good-natured waving aside of injuries committed as though the evil done were of no consequence. But forgiveness is really a most profound and searching experience; and it takes two persons, each sacrificially desirous of achieving it, before it can be perfected. In the pardoner, the passion for saviorhood must submerge all disgust at the sin in love for the sinner; and in the pardoned, desire for a new life must create sacrificial willingness to hate and forsake the evil and humbly accept a new chance. It follows, therefore, that no one can forgive another, no matter how willing he may be to do so, unless the recipient fulfils the conditions that make pardon possible. Forgiveness is a mutual operation; no forgetting or good will on the part of one person is forgiveness at all; and the attitude in the forgiven man that makes the reception of pardon possible is negatively penitence and positively faith. Any experience of human forgiveness reveals that the offender must detest his sin and turn from it in trust and self-commitment to claim the mercy and choose the ideals of the one whom he has wronged. That God in Christ is willing to forgive is the Christian Gospel; and if we go unforgiven it is for lack of faith. That is the hand which grasps the proffered pardon. _Almighty God, whose salvation is ever nigh to them that seek Thee, we think of our little lives, of their wayward ways, and we remember Thee and are troubled. Our days pass from us and we are heated with strifes, and troubled and restless, with mean temptations and fugitive desires. We spend our years in much carelessness, and too seldom do we think of the greatness of our trust and the wonder and mystery of our being. We are vexed with vain dreams and trivial desires. We live our days immersed in petty passions. We strain after poor uncertainties. We pursue the shadows of this passing life and continually are we visited by our own self-contempt and bitterness. We have known the better and have chosen the worse. We have felt the glory and power of a higher life and yet have surrendered to ignoble temptations and to satisfactions that end with the hour._ _Almighty Father, of Thy goodness do Thou save our lives, so smitten with passion, from the failure and misery that else must come to us. Be with us in our hours of self-communion, and inspire us with good purpose and service to Thee. Be with us when heart and flesh faint, and there seems no help or safety near us. Be with us when we are carried into the dry and lonely places, seeking a rest that is not in them. Sustain us, we beseech Thee, under the burden of our many errors and failures. From the confused aims and purposes of our lives may there be brought forth, by the aid of Thy Spirit, and the teaching and discipline of life, lives constant and assured in service and obedience to Thee. Amen._--John Hunter. Eleventh Week, Third Day It is clear in the New Testament that all the _free movements of divine help_ depend on the presence of man's faith. Words like these are continually on the lips of Jesus: "Be of good cheer; thy faith hath made thee whole" (Matt. 9:22); "According to your faith be it done unto you" (Matt. 9:29); "Great is thy faith: be it done unto thee even as thou wilt" (Matt. 15:28). Human life as a whole confirms the truth which such words suggest: _Man's faith is always the limit of his blessing; he never obtains more than he believes in._ Men live in a world of unappropriated truth and unused power; and the blessings of truth and power can be reached only by ventures of faith. Even electricity withholds its service from a man who, like Abdul Hamid, has not faith enough to try. In personal relationships this fact becomes even more clear. Whatever gifts of good will may be waiting in the heart of any man, we are shut out from them forever, unless we have the grace of faith in the man and open-hearted self-commitment to him. As the Christian Gospel sees man's case, the central tragedy lies here: that God in Christ is willing to do so much more in and for and through us than we have faith enough to let him do. Our unbelief is not a matter of theoretical concern alone; it practically disables God, it handicaps his operation in the world, it is an "evil heart of unbelief, in falling away from the living God" (Heb. 3:12). The divine will is forced to wait upon the lagging faith of man. How often the Master exclaimed, "O ye of little faith!" (Matt. 6:30; 8:26). And the reason for his lament was eminently practical. =And coming into his own country he taught them in their synagogue, insomuch that they were astonished, and said, Whence hath this man this wisdom, and these mighty works? Is not this the carpenter's son? is not his mother called Mary? and his brethren, James, and Joseph, and Simon, and Judas? And his sisters, are they not all with us? Whence then hath this man all these things? And they were offended in him. But Jesus said unto them, A prophet is not without honor, save in his own country, and in his own house. And he did not many mighty works there because of their unbelief.--Matt. 13:54-58.= _Almighty God, our Heavenly Father, we desire to come to Thee in all humility and sincerity. We are sinful; pardon Thou us. We are ignorant; enlighten Thou our darkness. We are weak; inspire us with strength. In these times of doubt, uncertainty, and trial, may we ever feel conscious of Thine everlasting light. Soul of our soul! Inmost Light of truth! Manifest Thyself unto us amid all shadows. Guide us in faith, hope, and love, until the perfect day shall dawn, and we shall know as we are known._ _Almighty God, teach us, we pray Thee, by blessed experience, to apprehend what was meant of old when Jesus Christ was called the power of God unto salvation, for we stand in need of salvation from sin, from doubt, from weakness, from craven fear; we cannot save ourselves; we are creatures of a day, short-sighted, and too often driven about by every wind of passion and opinion. We need to be stayed upon a higher strength. We need to lay hold of Thee. Manifest Thyself unto us, our Father, as the Saviour of our souls, and deliver us from the bondage of corruption into the glorious liberty of the children of God. Amen._--John Hunter. Eleventh Week, Fourth Day Not only is man's power to appropriate the divine blessing dependent on faith; in the experience of the New Testament man's power of achievement has the same source. =Then came the disciples to Jesus apart, and said, Why could not we cast it out? And he saith unto them, Because of your little faith: for verily I say unto you, If ye have faith as a grain of mustard seed, ye shall say unto this mountain, Remove hence to yonder place; and it shall remove; and nothing shall be impossible unto you.--Matt. 17:19, 20.= Mountains are symbols of difficulty, and the Master's affirmation here that faith alone can remove them is clearly confirmed in human experience. It may seem at times as though faith, compared with the obstacles, were like a minute mustard seed before the ranges of Lebanon, but faith can overcome even that disproportion in size. Great leaders always must have such confidence. Listen to Mazzini: "The people lack faith ... the faith that arouses the multitudes, faith in their own destiny, in their own mission, and in the mission of the epoch; the faith that combats and prays; the faith that enlightens and bids men advance fearlessly in the ways of God and humanity, with the sword of the people in their hand, the religion of the people in their heart, and the future of the people in their soul." In any great movement for human good, the ultimate and deciding question always is: How many people can be found who have faith enough to believe in the cause and its triumph? When enough folk have faith, any campaign for human welfare can be won. Without faith men "collapse into a yielding mass of plaintiveness and fear"; with faith they move mountains. And when men have faith in Christ as God's Revealor--faith, not formal and abstract, but real and vital--they begin to feel about the word "impossible" as Mirabeau did, "Never mention to me again that blockhead of a word!" _O God, our Father, our souls are made sick by the sight of hunger and want and nakedness; of little children bearing on their bent backs the burden of the world's work; of motherhood drawn under the grinding wheels of modern industry; and of overburdened manhood, with empty hands, stumbling and falling._ _Help us to understand that it is not Thy purpose to do away with life's struggle, but that Thou desirest us to make the conditions of that struggle just and its results fair._ _Enable us to know that we may bring this to pass only through love and sympathy and understanding; only as we realize that all are alike Thy children--the rich and the poor, the strong and the weak, the fortunate and the unfortunate. And so, our Father, give us an ever-truer sense of human sisterhood; that with patience and steadfastness we may do our part in ending the injustice that is in the land, so that all may rejoice in the fruits of their toil and be glad in Thy sunshine._ _Keep us in hope and courage even amid the vastness of the undertaking and the slowness of the progress, and sustain us with the knowledge that our times are in Thy hand. Amen._--Helen Ring Robinson. Eleventh Week, Fifth Day Faith in Christ has always been consummated, in the experience to which the New Testament introduces us, in an inward transformation of life. =I have been crucified with Christ; and it is no longer I that live, but Christ liveth in me: and that life which I now live in the flesh I live in faith, the faith which is in the Son of God, who loved me, and gave himself up for me.--Gal. 2:20.= Such conversion of life is the normal result of a vital fellowship whose bond is faith. For one thing, a man at once begins to care a great deal more about his own quality when he believes in Christ and in Christ's love. "What a King stoops to pick up from the mire cannot be a brass farthing, but must be a pearl of great price." To be loved by anyone is to enter into a new estimate of one's possible value; to be loved by God in Christ is to come into an experience where our possible value makes us alike ashamed of what we are and jubilant over what we may become. We begin saying with Irenæus, "Jesus Christ became what we are that he might make us what he is." And then, faith, ripening into fellowship, opening the life sensitively to the influence of the friend, issues in a character infused by the friend's character. He lives in us. Such transformation of life does not happen in a moment; it requires more than instantaneous exposure to take the Lord's picture on a human heart; but time-exposure will do it, and "Christ in us" be alike our hope of glory and our secret of influence. _O Father Eternal, we thank Thee for the new and living way into Thy presence made for us in Christ; the way of trust, sincerity, and sacrifice. Beneath His cross we would take our stand, in communion with His Spirit would we pray, in fellowship with the whole Church of Christ we would seek to know Thy mind and will._ _We desire to know all the fulness of Christ, to appropriate His unsearchable riches, to feed on His humanity whereby Thou hast become to us the bread of our inmost souls and the wine of life, to become partakers of Thy nature, share Thy glory, and become one with Thee through Him._ _Give unto us fellowship with His sufferings and insight into the mystery of His cross, so that we may be indeed crucified with Him, be raised to newness of life, and be hidden with Christ in Thee._ _We desire to make thankful offering of ourselves as members of the body of Christ; in union with all the members may we obey our unseen Head, so that the Body may be undivided, and Thy love, and healing power, and very Self may be incarnate on the earth in one Holy Universal Church. Amen._--W. E. Orchard. Eleventh Week, Sixth Day With faith in Christ so seen as the secret of divine forgiveness and assistance, of achieving power and inward transformation, there can be little surprise at the solicitude which the New Testament shows concerning the disciples' faith. We find this urgent interest in Paul: =Wherefore when we could no longer forbear, we thought it good to be left behind at Athens alone; and sent Timothy, our brother and God's minister in the gospel of Christ, to establish you, and to comfort you concerning your faith; ... night and day praying exceedingly that we may see your face, and may perfect that which is lacking in your faith.--I Thess. 3:1, 2, 10.= =We are bound to give thanks to God always for you, brethren, even as it is meet, for that your faith groweth exceedingly, and the love of each one of you all toward one another aboundeth.--II Thess. 1:3.= And one of the most appealing revelations of Jesus' habit in prayer concerns his supplication for Peter's faith. =Simon, Simon, behold, Satan asked to have you, that he might sift you as wheat: but I made supplication for thee, that thy faith fail not; and do thou, when once thou hast turned again, establish thy brethren.--Luke 22:31, 32.= In all such passages one feels at once that faith is used as Paul uses it in the thirteenth chapter of First Corinthians--a comrade and ally of hope and love. It is not a matter of dogma and does not move in the realm of opinion, although ideas of the first magnitude may be involved in it. It is primarily a bond of divine fellowship, which at once keeps the life receptive to all that God would do for the man and moves the man to do all that he should for God. If that fails, even Peter would fall in ruins, and the expression is none too strong, when in I Timothy the failure of such vital faith is described as a "shipwreck" (I Tim. 1:19). But when by faith the consciousness of God has grown clear, and alliance with him is so real that we stop arguing about it and begin counting on it in daily living, the increment of power and confidence and stability which a man may win is quite incalculable. _O Thou plenteous Source of every good and perfect gift, shed abroad the cheering light of Thy seven-fold grace over our hearts. Yea, Spirit of love and gentleness, we most humbly implore Thy assistance. Thou knowest our faults, our failings, our necessities, the dulness of our understanding, the waywardness of our affections, the perverseness of our will. When, therefore, we neglect to practice what we know, visit us, we beseech Thee, with Thy grace, enlighten our minds, rectify our desires, correct our wanderings, and pardon our omissions, so that by Thy guidance we may be preserved from making shipwreck of faith, and keep a good conscience, and may at length be landed safe in the haven of eternal rest; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen._--Anselm, 1033. Eleventh Week, Seventh Day Some who gladly acknowledge the surprising results which faith can work in life, do not see any great importance in the object to which faith attaches itself. They say that faith is merely a psychological attitude, and that faith in one thing does as well as faith in another. Folk are healed, they point out, by all kinds of faith, whether directed toward fetishes, or saints' relics, or metaphysical theories, or God himself. It is the faith, they say, and not the object, which does the work. There is a modicum of truth in this. Faith, by its very power to organize man's faculties and give them definite set and drive, is itself a master force, and if a man has no interest beyond the achievement of some immediate end, like conquering nervous qualms or getting strength for a special task, he may achieve that end by believing in almost anything, provided he believes hard enough. _But to believe in some things may debauch the intelligence and lower the moral standards, even while it achieves a practical end._ To win power for a business task by believing in a palm-reader's predictions is entirely possible, but it is a poor bargain; a man sells out his intelligence for cash. The object in which a man believes does make an immense difference in the effect of his faith on his _mind_ and _character_. An African savage may gain courage for an ordeal by believing in his fetish--but how immeasurable is the abyss between the meaning of that faith for the whole of life and the meaning of a Christian's faith in God! We have no business, for the sake of immediate gain, to allow our faith to rest in anything lower than the highest. =Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who according to his great mercy begat us again unto a living hope by the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, unto an inheritance incorruptible, and undefiled, and that fadeth not away, reserved in heaven for you, who by the power of God are guarded through faith unto a salvation ready to be revealed in the last time. Wherein ye greatly rejoice, though now for a little while, if need be, ye have been put to grief in manifold trials, that the proof of your faith, being more precious than gold that perisheth though it is proved by fire, may be found unto praise and glory and honor at the revelation of Jesus Christ: whom not having seen ye love; on whom, though now ye see him not, yet believing, ye rejoice greatly with joy unspeakable and full of glory: receiving the end of your faith, even the salvation of your souls.--I Peter 1:3-9.= _Gracious Father of our spirits, in the stillness of this worship may we grow more sure of Thee, who art often closest to us when we feel Thou hast forsaken us. The toil and thought of daily life leave us little time to think of Thee; but may the silence of this holy place make us aware that though we may forget Thee, Thou dost never forget us. Perhaps we have grown careless in contact with common things, duty has lost its high solemnities, the altar fires have gone untended, Thy light within our minds has been distrusted or ignored. As we withdraw awhile from all without, may we find Thee anew within, until thought grows reverent again, all work is hallowed, and faith reconsecrates all common things as sacraments of love._ _If pride of thought and careless speculation have made us doubtful of Thee, recover for us the simplicity that understands Thou art never surer than when we doubt Thee, that through all failures of faith Thou becomest clearer, and so makest the light that once we walked by seem but darkness. Help us then to rest our faith on the knowledge of our imperfection, our consciousness of ignorance, our sense of sin, and see in them shadows cast by the light of Thy drawing near._ _If Thy purposes have crossed our own and Thy will has broken ours, enable us to trust the wisdom of Thy perfect love and find Thy will to be our peace._ _So lead us back to meet Thee where we may have missed Thee. Amen._--W. E. Orchard. COMMENT FOR THE WEEK I The forgiveness which the Gospel offers--reinstating a man in the personal relationships against which he sinned, and giving him another chance--opens opportunity, but by itself it does not furnish power. The saviorhood of Christ, however, so far from failing at this crucial point, makes here its chief claim to preeminence. However one may explain it, the normal quality of a genuine Christian life is moral energy. The Gospel not alone to Paul, but to all generations of Christ's disciples, had been "God's saving power for everyone who has faith" (Rom. 1:16).[8] Faith always supplies moral dynamic. Emerson's challenge, "They can conquer who believe they can," is easily verified in daily life. In practical business, in social reform, in personal character, no more common or fatal barrier to success exists than disbelief in possibilities. While some who think they can when they cannot, prove the rule by its exception, we are sure in advance that one who believes he cannot, has lost his battle before it has begun. Granted a task worth doing, sufficient strength for its accomplishment, and motives in plenty to make success desirable, and one insinuating enemy can spoil the enterprise. Let the subtle fear that the task is impossible obsess the thought, paralyze the nerve, and no hope is left. Like chlorine gas, such fear defeats us before we have begun to fight and fills our trenches with asphyxiated powers. Anyone who is to be a savior to mankind, therefore, must be able to make men say, "I can." That Christ has had that influence on men is the commonplace of Christian biography from the beginning until now. "In him who strengthens me I am able for anything" (Phil. 4:13)[9] is a word of Paul's which the best Christian experience confirms. It does not mean that men can do what they will, overriding all obstacles to chosen goals; it means that they are aware of resources in reserve, of power around them and in them, so that they are not afraid of anything which they may face. If a duty ought to be done, they are confident that they can do it; if a trouble must be borne, they are assured that they can bear it. This buoyant faith is more than a grace of temperament. In Paul's case, for example, it was not due to rugged health, for that he lacked; it was not the easy optimism of some happiness cult, for he was a persecuted man, bearing in his body "the marks of the Lord Jesus"; and such a note of assured resource as we just have quoted did not come from the hopefulness of fortunate circumstance, but from a prison where he wore a chain. Paul himself is certain that his sense of power springs from discipleship to Jesus. And when one turns to the gospels, he sees that whenever the Master had opportunity to exert to the full his influence on men, some such result as here appears in Paul is evident. A contagious personality always enlarges the sense of possibilities and powers in other men. A man, leaving Trinity Church, where he had heard Phillips Brooks, exclaimed, "He always makes me feel so strong." It was said that one could not stand for a moment with Edmund Burke under an archway, to let a shower pass by, without emerging a greater man. Each one of us knows folk who so impress him. We go into their presence, weak, self-pitiful; when we come out, the horizons are broader, the possibilities have enlarged, there is more in us than we had suspected, we are convinced that we _can_. To a degree that escapes our estimation Jesus exerted that influence on men. Napoleon said that he made his generals out of mud. Out of what, then, did the Master make his apostles? At the beginning, Peter, for example, is protesting, "Depart from me, for I am a sinful man, O Lord," and Jesus is bending over him, saying: Come after me, and I will make you a fisher of men; if you will, you can. After months of influence, Peter, still shamed and weak, is pleading his love against his deed, and Jesus is saying: Feed my sheep; feed my lambs; if you will, you can. In Jesus' relationship with his disciple, a great personality stands over a lesser one, by life and word insistently saying, _You can_, until power is vitally transmitted, and in the vacillating, vehement Simon there emerges rock-like, stable Peter. Throughout the Christian centuries nothing has been more typical than this of the Master's influence on men. He has come to innumerable sodden lives, held slaves to tyrannous sin, saying in the hopelessness of bondage, "I cannot," and he has touched them with his contagious confidence, until they rose into freedom, saying, "By the help of God, I can!" He has come into social situations, where ancient evils, long entrenched and seemingly invincible, withstood the assault of reformation, and he has put inexhaustible resource into his people, until they said with an old reformer, "Impossible? If that is all that is the matter, let us go ahead!" He has come to his Church, reluctant to undertake a world-wide mission, staggered by the task's magnitude, and he has made men pray with _life_ and not alone with lip, "Thy Kingdom come, Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven." Wherever the influence of Christ vitally has come, the horizons of possibility have widened and the sense of power grown inexhaustible. _Such influence is of the very essence of saviorhood and the attitude that appropriates it is saving faith._ When John B. Gough, desperately enmeshed in habit, faces the Christian Gospel of release one easily may trace his changing response. Dubious at first, he wants to believe it but he does not dare. He wishes it were true, but the whole logic of his situation, his long habit, his spoiled reputation, his weakened will, argue against the possibility. As Augustine said about his lust, "The worse that I knew so well had more power over me than the better that I knew not." Still, a note of authority in the Gospel, as though spoken by one whose power to perform is equal to the thing he promises, arrests Gough's mind, captures his imagination, awakens his spirit's deep desire, until at last the Master's call, "You can," is answered by the human cry, "I will," and the man moves out into new possibilities, new powers, and increasing liberty. That _is_ salvation. It is no formal status decreed by legal enactment, as though a judge technically acquitted a prisoner. It is new life, inward liberation from old habits, apprehensions, anxieties, and fears. It lifts horizons, consumes impossibilities, and at the center of life sets the stirring conviction that what ought to be done can be done. Christians who are accustomed lightly to assert that they are saved need specially to take this truth to heart. Some speak as though salvation were a technicality and they sing about it, "'Tis done, the great transaction's done." To many such, were candor courteous, one would wish to say: Saved? Saved from what? You are habitually anxious. Your life is continually vexed with little fears and apprehensions. When trouble comes, you are sure that you cannot stand it; when tasks present themselves, you are certain that you cannot perform them. You have pet self-indulgences, from major sins to little meannesses; you know that they are wrong; but when suggestion comes that you surrender them, you are sure that you have not the strength. When causes, plainly Christian, on whose successful issue man's weal depends, appeal to you for help, you weaken every enterprise by your disheartenment. Saved from _what_? Not from fear, timidity, selfishness, and stagnation! And if you say, Saved from Hell--what is Hell but the final subjugation of the soul to such sins as you now are cherishing? The words of Jesus are promises of saviorhood from real and present evils: "Be not _anxious_" (Matt. 6:34); "Go, _sin_ no more" (John 8:11); "_Fear_ not, little flock" (Luke 12:32). When one, by faith, turns his face homeward from such destroyers of life, he begins to be saved; but only as he lives by faith in fellowship with the Divine and so achieves progressive victory, does he keep on being saved. _The heart of salvation is victorious power._ II Not all men feel the need of the power which comes from discipleship to Christ. They live content without such increment of strength as Christians find in faith. Their power is equal to their tasks because their tasks are levelled to their power. One cannot understand, therefore, what the Saviorhood of Christ has meant to men, unless he sees how Christ has created the need of the very power he furnishes. He has done this, in part, _by awakening the desire for an ascending life_. Men do not naturally want to believe in possibilities too great and taxing; it always is easier to leave undisturbed the _status quo_. Even changing one's residence is difficult. Though one may move to a better house, yet to decide to move, to break old relationships, to tear up and refit the furnishings, and to adjust oneself to new associations mean stress and strain. So men come to be at home with habits; they are comfortably accustomed to timidity and self-indulgence. Release into a new life does not lure as privilege; it repels as hardship. Some sins, indeed, are followed by remorse, but others, grown habitual, bring a sense of well-being and content. We like ourselves; we do not want a better life; we are unwilling to pay its cost. Our sins are no bed of nettles, but a lotus land of decent ease. Were we candidly to speak to them, we should say, O Sin, you are a comfortable friend! When most we want forbidden fruit you suggest excuses. You side happily with our inclinations and save us from the struggle that high duty costs and the sacrifice of striving for the best. Among the blessings of our lives, we count you not the least, O decent, comfortable, self-indulgent Sin! Idlers thus drift listlessly and refuse a voyage with a purpose and a goal; youths living by low standards, look on Christlike character as beyond their interest and possibility; undedicated men find excuse for holding back devotion to great causes in the world--we shelter ourselves from aspiration and enterprise behind our faithlessness. Into such a situation Christ repeatedly has come, bringing a vision of what life ought to be, too imperative to be neglected, too challenging to be denied. Men have been shaken out of their content; the true color of their lives has been revealed against his white background, the meanness of their plans against the wide ranges of his purpose. From seeing him they have gone back to be content in their old habits, but in vain. Can one who has seen a home be happy in a hovel? Ranke, the historian, says, "More guiltless and more powerful, more exalted and more holy, has naught ever been on earth than his conduct, his life, and his death. The human race knows nothing that could be brought even afar off into comparison with it." So he has been the disturber of man's ignoble self-content, and to say that we believe in him means that, no longer able to endure the thing we are, we go on pilgrimage toward the thing he is. Faith means that we decide to _move_. This first essential work of saviorhood Christ has wrought, and when men start to follow him, they feel the need of power. For another thing, Christ has created a thirst for the power he furnishes by _revealing the quality of character in the possession of which salvation ultimately consists_. At the beginning of the ethical development whether of the individual or of the race, goodness is defined in terms of prohibitions. There are many things which men ought _not_ to do; they walk embarrassed in the presence of their duty like courtiers before an exacting prince. How negative and repelling such goodness is! As another exclaims: "They do not break the Sabbath themselves, but no one who has to spend it with them likes to see the dreadful day come round. They do not swear themselves, but they make all who know them want to. They are just as good as trying not to be bad can make them." Discerning spirits, therefore, turn to goodness positively conceived. "Thou shalt not" becomes "Thou shalt"; duty consists of rules to be kept, precepts to be observed, principles to be applied, and we go out to do good deeds to men. But whoever seriously tries to do deeds really good, faces a need of moral elevation, as much beyond the outward act of good as that surpasses the observance of prohibitions. _Good deeds are not a matter of will alone, but of spiritual quality._ Let the wind blow to fan the faces of the sick, but if it discover that it is laden with disease, what shall it do? To blow this way or that may be within volition's power, but not to _cleanse_ oneself. The task of character reaches inward, beyond the things we do or refrain from doing to the man we are. Goodness is something more than girding up the loins, blowing upon the hands, and setting to the work of being dutiful. It springs from the spirit's depths; it is tinctured with the spirit's quality; and deeds are never really better than the soul whose utterances they are. From "Thou shalt not do" to "Thou shalt do" and from "Thou shalt do" to "Thou shalt be," man's flying goal of goodness moves. And this ideal in Christ has been incarnate, visible, imperative. He _was_ right in the inner quality and flavor of his life; and to be like him involves a pure and powerful personality. Whoever sets that task ahead knows that he cannot strut proudly into it. Like Alice entering Wonderland he must grow very small before he can grow large. The Christ who has power to give has revealed the need of it. Not only by the intensifying of the ideal, but by its extension, has Christ created thirst for divine help. In youth the problem of character concerns personal habits. Our untamed strength must be broken to the harness, and the snaffle bit be used upon our wayward powers. We justly fear our sins and in their triumph we see the wreck of individual prospects and the ruin of our families' hopes. Our concern centers about ourselves, and its crux is self-mastery. But when in maturity, somewhat "at leisure from ourselves" in settled habits, we no longer fear our own ruin nor think it probable, goodness extends its meaning. To play our part in man's advancement, to live, work, sacrifice, and if need be die for causes on which our children's hopes depend, becomes our ideal. As boys in spring-time when the ice is melting see from a hill-top the swirling flood that overflows the plain, and know that somewhere underneath the unfamiliar and tumultuous rapids the main channel runs, from which the floods have broken, to which in time they must return, so in a generation when man's life has broken its banks in fury we still believe that the main course of the divine purpose is not forever lost. To believe that, and in the strength of it to toil for the ends God seeks, becomes to awakened spirits the essential soul of goodness. When such meanings enter into his ideal, a man runs straight upon the need of God. For we may make our contribution to the cause of man's good upon the earth and our children may make theirs, but if this world is a spiritual Sahara, never meant for character and social weal, and against the dead set of the desert's power we are building oases here with our unaided fingers, then the issue of our work stands in no doubt. The Sahara will pile its burning sands about us and hurl its blistering winds across us, and we and our works together come to naught. By as much, then, as a man really cares about democracy and liberty and social equity, about human brotherhood and Christian civilization, by so much he needs God, who gathers up the scattered contributions of his children and builds them into victory. A man alone may keep the decalogue, but alone he cannot save the world. Who dreams of that wants power. And Christ has made men dream of that, believe in that with passionate certainty, until "Thy Kingdom come" is the daily prayer of multitudes. To no human strength can such prayer be offered; we are not adequate to an eternal, universal task. Again Christ has brought us to the need of power, and his people call him Savior, because the need which he creates he also satisfies. In one of the tidal rivers near New York, the building of a bridge was interrupted by a derelict sunk in the river's bottom. Divers put chains about the obstacle and all day long the engineer directed the maneuvering of tugs as they puffed and pulled in vain endeavor to dislodge the hulk. Then a young student, fresh from the technical school, asked for the privilege of trying, and from the vexed, impatient chief obtained his wish. "What will _you_ do it with?" the engineer enquired. "The flat-boats in which we brought the granite from Vermont," the young man answered. So when the tide was out, the flat boats were fastened to the derelict. The Atlantic began to come in; its mighty shoulders underneath the boats lifted--lifted until the derelict had to come. The youth had harnessed infinite energy to his task. To the consciousness of such resource in the spiritual world Christ has introduced his people. They have meant not formula but fact, not technicality but experience, when they have called him Savior. III This consciousness of power has come in part from Christ's revelation of God the Father. Whoever has sinned against his friend or unkindly wronged a child knows what sin does to personal relationships. How swift a change comes over a son's thought of his father when the son has sinned! The wrong may have been done secretly so that his sire does not know, and the boy alone on earth is conscious of it. But for all that the filial relationship has lost its glory. Before the sin, the son was happy with his father near; they were companions, confidants, and to the boy fatherhood was very beautiful. Now, he is most unhappy with his father near; the father's eyes like a detective's pierce him through, the face like a judge's waits sternly to condemn. He is looking at his father through the dark glasses of his sin, and they distort his vision. When one considers the gods whom men have worshiped, approaching them by bloody altar-stairs, offering their first-born to assuage wrath or win from apathy to favor, he sees, extended to a racial scale, our boyhood's tragedy. _Mankind has been looking at the Father through its ignorance and sin and it has seen him beclouded and awry._ Christ changed all that. By what he taught, by what he was, by what he suffered he has said to man, so that man increasingly has believed it--You are wrong about God. He does not stand aloof--careless or vindictive; he is not as he looks to you through the twisted lenses of your evil. He loves you. He _cares_ beyond your power to understand, and all my compassion but reveals in time what is eternally in him. He is pledged to the victory of goodness in you and in the world, and you have not used all your power until you have used his, for that, too, is yours. From that day the fight against sin has been a new thing, and men have gone into it with battle-cries they never used before--"_God_ was in Christ, reconciling the world unto himself" (II Cor. 5:19); "_God_ commendeth his own love toward us, in that, while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us" (Rom. 5:8); "If _God_ is for us, who is against us?" (Rom. 8:31). This access of power has come in part from Christ's revelation of _man_. When a jewel is taken from darkness into sunlight, there is a two-fold revealing. The sunlight is disclosed in new glory, for it never seemed so beautiful before as it appears breaking in splendor through the jewel's heart. And there is a revelation of the jewel. Dull and unillumined in the dark, it is lustrous when the sun enlightens it. So Christ brought us an unveiling of the Father; the Divine never had seemed so wonderful as when it poured in glory through his purity and love. And he brought as well a new revelation of man. Our human nature, bedimmed by sin and lusterless, he in his own person took up into the light, and lifting it where all mankind could see he cried--This _is_ human nature--man as God intended him to be--no slave of fate and dupe of sin, but a free man and a victor. And from that day the war on sin has had new spirit in it, and battle cries that presage triumph have grown familiar on the fighters' lips: "Now are we children of God, and it is not yet made manifest what we shall be" (I John 3:2); "Till we all attain unto the unity of the faith, and of the knowledge of the Son of God, unto a full-grown man, unto the measure of the stature of the fulness of Christ" (Eph. 4:13); "His precious and exceeding great promises; that through these ye may become partakers of the divine nature" (II Pet. 1:4). IV Christ's double revelation of God and man, however, has had its vital impact of power on life in what Christians have always called _the experience of the Spirit_. When the New Testament speaks its characteristic word about the Spirit, it means the conscious presence of the living God in the hearts of men, and that is the very essence of religion. The first Christians did not know God in one way only; they knew him in three ways. So one man might know Beethoven the composer and be an authority upon his works; another might know Beethoven the performer and delight in his playing; and another might know Beethoven the man and rejoice in his friendship--but no one could know the whole of Beethoven until he knew him all three ways. The New Testament Christians came thus to God. He was the Father, Creator of all; he was the Character, revealed in Jesus; but as well he was the Spiritual Presence in their lives, their sustenance and power. "The grace of the Lord Jesus Christ, and the love of God, and the communion of the Holy Spirit" (II Cor. 13:14)--such was their experience of the Divine. It was not dogma; it was _life_. God was Creator, Character, and Comforter. Christian experience is in continual danger of drifting from this vital center. In our age especially, we are prone to find God at the end of an argument and to leave him there. We have been compelled by militant agnosticism to put our apologetic armies on the defensive. Finding it impossible to hold the respect of men's intelligence without reasonable arguments in the faith's behalf, we have had to draw such inferences from the nature of the material universe, from the necessities of human thought, the demands of human conscience, and the progress of moral evolution in history, that materialism should be made, what indeed it is, a discredited affair. But God so arrived at, by way of reason, is an external matter. He is an hypothesis to explain the universe. "He sitteth upon the circle of the earth and the inhabitants thereof are as grasshoppers before him." Granted the incalculable value in such faith, putting unity into history and purpose into life--it is not religion and it never can be. _Religion begins when the God outwardly argued is inwardly experienced._ Religion begins when we cease using the tricky and unstable aeroplane of speculation to seek Him among the clouds, and retreat into the fertile places of our own spirits where the living water rises, as Jesus said. God outside of us is a theory; God inside of us becomes a fact. God outside of us is an hypothesis; God inside of us is an experience. God the Father is the possibility of salvation; God the Spirit is actuality of life, joy, peace, and saving power. God the transcendent may do for philosophy, but he is not enough for religion. Without this completion of the Gospel, Christ's saviorhood does not reach inward to our need. For lacking it, we stand before the Master with the same admiration that a man who is no painter feels when he sees a Raphael. He knows the work is sublime, but he is not proposing to reproduce it. He is conquered by its beauty, but he knows no possibility of its imitation. If, however, there were a spirit of Raphael that could lay hold upon a man's life and transform him to the master's skill and power, then his admiration would become inwardly effective. _It takes the spirit of Raphael to do Raphael's work._ If this gospel of an indwelling dynamic is not coupled with our admiration for Jesus, we are like a student practicing the fingering of the Hallelujah Chorus on an organ from which the power has been shut off. With what accuracy his fingers travel the keys, who can tell? Once Handel's soul, on fire with the passion of harmony, burned itself into that composition. He wrote it upon his knees. But with whatever agility the student's fingers follow the notes, no Hallelujah Chorus comes from his organ to praise God and move men. So the record of this matchless character handed to us in the gospels, like notes of music meant to be played again, is but our despair, if we must attempt its reproduction on a powerless organ. Our admiration for it is external and ineffectual. We fall thereby into a static religion of creed; we have no dynamic religion of progress and hope. This then is the glorious message, where the Christian Gospel reaches its climax, and which alone puts fullest meaning into Jesus' perfect life: _the Spirit of God in Jesus made his quality; that same Spirit is underground in our lives, striving to well up in characters like his, until we live, yet not we, but Christ lives in us_. Any spring day may serve to illustrate this faith. Where does the restlessness in nature have its source? Every tree, in discontent, hastens to make buds into leaves, and every blade of grass is tremulous with impatient life. No tree, however, is a sufficient explanation of its own haste and dissatisfaction; no flower has in itself the secrets of its eager growth. The spirit of life is abroad, and crowding itself everywhere on old, dead forms, is making them bloom again. Explain then, the moral restlessness of our hearts in other wise! We do ill, and are distraught with remorse until we repent and make reparation. We attain money or talents, and are chased day and night by the urgent call to their spiritual dedication. We conform ourselves to decency and still hear a call for goodness beyond all earthly need. We succeed as the world calls it, and we know that it is failure; we fail as the world sees it, and our hearts sing for joy because we know that we have succeeded. Everywhere we are confronted with a pulsing life that longs to get itself expressed in us. We cannot get away from God. He is not far, he is here. This Spirit, for whom there is no better name than the Spirit of Jesus, is our continual companion. We are locked in an enforced fellowship with him. There is no friend with whom we deal more directly and continually than with him. Every time we open an inspiring book and devoutly study it, this Spirit is pleading for entrance. Every time we pray he stands at the door and knocks. Every time some child in need, or some great cause demanding sacrifice, lays claim on us, this Spirit is crying to be let in. Men's hunger for food, their love for family and friends, are not more direct, concrete, immediate experiences than our dealings with this Spirit of the Lord. He is not only God the Father; he is God the Spirit, striving to dwell in us and work through us. Into a vital use of this relationship with the Divine, Christ opened the way and multitudes have followed. He has taught men to find that same resourcefulness in the spiritual world which science finds in the physical. Every successful invention of a man like Edison involves a twofold faith: that there is inexhaustible power in the universe and that, with persistent patience and cooperation, there is no telling what marvels yet may come from the employment of it. Faith is science's flying column. It runs out into engineering, agriculture, medicine, and refuses to limit the possibilities. Science is a tremendous believer; it lives by faith that almost anything may yet be done. Such a relationship Paul sustained with the Spirit. He was confident of resources there, "exceeding abundantly above all that we ask or think" (Eph. 3:20). He was a spiritual Edison, a believer in the divine reality and power and their availability by faith in human life. Only such a Gospel is adequate to man's deepest need. Sin, whether its forms be decent or obscene, cripples men's wills with the appalling certainty that they are slaves. As a hypnotist draws imaginary circles around his victims, across which they cannot step, so Sin, that Svengali of the soul, whether in personal or social life, paralyzes its dupes with disbelief in possibilities. To innumerable folk, emprisoned by their fears and sins, Christ has been the Savior. He has awakened that faith which, as he said, is the greatest mountain-mover known to men. They have been "strengthened with power through his Spirit in the inward man" (Eph. 3:16). V When one considers, as we have in these two chapters, what Christ has meant in the experience of his people, little wonder can remain that they have called him by such high names as have aroused man's incredulity. For this Gospel of power has never been separable from him, as though he were its historic fountain and could easily be forgotten by those who far down-stream enjoyed the water. His personality itself has been the inspiration of his people. At Marston Moor, when the Puritans and Cavaliers were aligned for battle and all was in readiness for conflict to begin, Oliver Cromwell came riding across the plain. And the chronicler says that at the sight of him the Puritans sent up a great victorious shout, as though their battle already had been won. Some such effect our Lord has had on his disciples. To explain that effect one would have to speak not so much of his teaching as of himself--his character and purpose; nor so much of them as of the Cross where all he taught and was came to a point of flame that has set the world on fire. Christ was the "nerve o'er which do creep The else unfelt oppressions of the earth." He suffered with man and for man, he uniquely embodied in his own experience the universal law that the consequences of sin fall in part on the one who loves the sinner and tries to save him; and in that sacrifice his work for man was consummated, and his influence over man confirmed. When his people have bowed before him in unutterable devotion they have been thinking not only of what he has done for them, but of what it cost him to do it. Why, therefore, should we wonder that his disciples at their best have called Jesus divine? His first followers began with no abstract ideas of deity; they began with "the man, Christ Jesus" (I Tim. 2:5). They had no idea at the first that he was more. His bodily and mental life had obeyed the laws of normal human development, advancing "in wisdom and stature, and in favor with God and men" (Luke 2:52). He hungered after his temptation, thirsted on the Cross, slept from weariness while the boat tossed in a storm, and exhausted, sat beside the well. Like other men he had elevated hours of great rejoicing; times when compassion moved him to tears, as when he saw a multitude unshepherded or, swinging round the brow of Olivet, beheld Jerusalem; and hours of hot indignation, too, as when he found his Father's house a den of thieves or spoke out his heart against the Pharisees. He asked questions, and was astonished, now at the people's lack of faith, again at the centurion's excess of it. His fellowship with God was nourished by secret prayer, his power replenished by retreat to quiet places for communion, and all his life was lived, his temptations faced, his troubles borne, and his work done in a spirit of humble, filial dependence on his Father. Thus real and human, a sharer in their limitations, their sorrows, and their moral trials, the first disciples saw the Master. But ever as they lived with him, whether in physical presence or in spiritual fellowship, he wrought in them a Savior's work. He became to them manhood indeed, but manhood plus. He grew in their apprehension, as though a boy had thought an ocean's inlet were a lake enclosed, and now discovers that it is the sea itself, and all its tides the pulse of the great deep. How should they name this greatness in their Lord? They were not utterly without a clue, for he himself had introduced them to the life divine. They had learned through him to say about themselves that they were temples in which God dwelt (II Cor. 6:16), that God abode in them (I John 4:12), that he stood ever waiting to come in (Rev. 3:20), and that the possession of the divine nature was the Gospel's promise (II Pet. 1:4). By what other element in their experience could they interpret the greatness of their Lord? It might be inadequate, but it was the best they had. They rose to understand the divine life in him from the experience of the divine life in themselves. "God was in Christ," they said. They never dreamed of claiming equality with him. Like pools beside the sea, they understood the ocean's quality from their own. There are not two kinds of sea-water; nor, with one God, can there be two kinds of divine life. But so understanding the sea, shall the pool claim equality with it? Rather, the sea has deeps, tides, currents, and relationships with the world's life that no pool can ever know. So Christ was at once their brother and their Lord. He was real, because they interpreted his life divine from the foregleams of God's presence in themselves. He was adorable, because he was an ocean to their landlocked pools, and they waited for his tides. Only by some such road as these first disciples trod can men come to a vital understanding of the Lord. Nothing but _experience_ can give us a living estimate of anything; without that theory is vain. Let a man live with the Master's manhood until it grows luminous and through it he sees the character of God; let a man avail himself of the Master's saviorhood until forgiven and empowered he finds the "life that is life indeed"; let a man grow in the experience of God's presence until he knows not only the God without but the God within; and then if he rises to estimate his Lord, he will not hesitate to see in Jesus the incarnate presence of the living God. After that, theology may help or hinder him, according as it is wise and vital or cold and formal; but with theology or not, he knows the heart of the New Testament's attitude toward Jesus. He understands why the first Christians summed up their faith as "believing in the Lord Jesus Christ." [8] Moffatt's translation. [9] Moffatt's translation. CHAPTER XII The Fellowship of Faith DAILY READINGS Our thought turns, in our closing week of study, from believers taken one by one, to believers gathered in fellowship. This community of faith has wider boundaries than the organized churches; in a real sense it includes all servants of man's ideal aims; yet in the Church we naturally seek the chief meanings of fellowship for faith. Why men do not go to church, is often asked. But why men do go, so that in spite of countless failures in the churches, attendance on public worship and loyalty to organized religion are among mankind's most usual habits, is an inquiry far more important. To that inquiry let us in the daily readings turn our thought. Twelfth Week, First Day =But woe unto you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! because ye shut the kingdom of heaven against men: for ye enter not in yourselves, neither suffer ye them that are entering in to enter.= =Woe unto you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! for ye compass sea and land to make one proselyte; and when he is become so, ye make him twofold more a son of hell than yourselves....= =Woe unto you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! for ye tithe mint and anise and cummin, and have left undone the weightier matters of the law, justice, and mercy, and faith: but these ye ought to have done, and not to have left the other undone. Ye blind guides, that strain out the gnat, and swallow the camel!--Matt. 23:13-15; 23, 24.= Jesus' indictment of the Jewish Church is terrific, and yet no one who knows the story of the Christian churches can doubt that they often have deserved the same condemnation. They have at times committed all the sins that can be laid at any institution's door; they have been selfish, formal, worldly, cruel. A wonder-story from the Arctic says that once the candle-flames froze and the explorers broke them off and wore them for watch charms; the flames of the great fire congealed and were wound like golden ornaments around men's necks. So repeatedly the burning words of Scripture, the blazing affirmations of old creeds, on fire at first with the passion of souls possessed by God, have been frozen in the churches' Arctic climate, and handed to men like talismans and amulets, with no saving warmth or light. Creeds, rituals, organizations--how often these frozen forms of life have taken the place of inward spiritual power! Dr. Washington Gladden would not be alone in saying: "While therefore I had as large an experience of church-going in my boyhood as most boys can recall, I cannot lay my hand on my heart and say that the church-going helped me to solve my religious problems. In fact, it made those problems more and more tangled and troublesome." And yet the Church goes on. Voltaire prophesied its collapse in fifty years, and in fifty years the house where he made the prophecy was a depot for the circulation of the Scriptures. The Church's persistence, continual adaptation to new conditions, and apparently endless power of revival must have some deep reason. It may be because prayer like this which follows has never utterly died out in the sanctuary. _O Thou that dwellest not in temples made with hands! We ever stand within the courts of Thy glorious presence, only we open now the gates of our poor praise. Thou hast enriched this day of rest, O Lord, with Thy choicest gifts of peace; and lo! Thou unforgetting God, its record is before Thee, for ages past, moistened with penitential tears, and illumined with glad hopes, and hallowed by the innumerable prayers of faithful and saintly men. In this our day may the churches of Thy Holy One seek Thee still in spirit and truth; may we also enter in and find our rest, being of one heart and mind, and serving Thee with a wakeful and humble joy. Teach us now how we may converse with Thee, for we cannot order our speech by reason of darkness. We are naked and without disguise before Thee; oh! hide not Thyself from us behind our ignorance and sin. May we at least in this Thine hour shake off the sluggish clouds of sense and self that cling around our souls; and strenuously open our whole nature to the breath of Thy free spirit, and the healthful sunshine of Thy grace. Let the divine image of the Son of God visit us with power; driving out, with the chastisement of penitence, all obtruding passions that profane the temple of our hearts, and turn into a place of traffic that native house of prayer. O God of glory, God of grace! let not the things which are spiritually discerned be foolishness unto us through the blindness of our conscience: Thou knowest the thoughts of our wisdom that they are vain; take them from us, and bid them vanish away, lost in that wisdom from above which is revealed only to the pure in heart. Not unto us, O Lord, not unto us, but unto Thee be every thought of praise! Amen._--James Martineau. Twelfth Week, Second Day Some men doubtless go to church from traditional habit only, but such a motive obviously is not adequate to explain why the recurrent tides of humanity, even after an ebb in interest, sweep back to the Church again. In the eighteenth century, for example, Butler reports the common opinion that all that remained for Christianity was decent obsequies. But in a few years the Wesleys began a movement that changed the spiritual complexion of the English-speaking world, and swept multitudes into Christian fellowship. One reason for this repeated fact is clear. Mankind cannot and will not consent to live without faith in God, and faith in God in its genesis and its sustenance is largely a matter of contagion. We are not so much taught it; we catch it. It is vitally imparted in the family circle, and wherever kindred and believing spirits gather. No man is so independent as to escape the vital fact that his noblest emotions, attitudes, ideals, and faiths are socially engendered and socially sustained; he never would have had them in a solitary life and a solitary life would soon spoil those which he has now. A man may believe in his country and love her; but let him join in a patriotic movement or even attend a high-spirited patriotic meeting, and he will believe in her and love her more ardently. Man's religious life is not lawless; it is regulated by the same necessities of fellowship. The Church has made many mistakes, but on her altar the fire has never utterly gone out, and in her fellowship the faith of multitudes has been kindled. =Let us hold fast the confession of our hope that it waver not; for he is faithful that promised: and let us consider one another to provoke unto love and good works; not forsaking our own assembling together, as the custom of some is, but exhorting one another; and so much the more, as ye see the day drawing nigh.--Heb. 10:23-25.= _Great is Thy name, O God, and greatly to be praised. In Thee all our discordant notes rise into perfect harmony. It is good for us to think of the wonder of Thy being. Thou art silent, yet most strong; unchangeable, yet ever changing; ever working, yet ever at rest, supporting, nourishing, maturing all things. O Thou Eternal Spirit, who hast set our noisy years in the heart of Thy eternity, lift us above the power and evils of the passing time, that under the shadow of Thy wings we may take courage and be glad. So great art Thou, beyond our utmost imagining, that we could not speak to Thee didst Thou not first draw near to us and say, "Seek ye my face." Unto Thee our hearts would make reply, "Thy face, Lord, will we seek."... We thank Thee for our birth into a Christian community, for the Church and the Sacraments of Thy grace, for the healing day of rest, when we enter with Thy people into Thy House and there make holy-day; for the refreshment of soul, the joys of communion, the spiritual discipline, the inspiration of prayer and hymn and sermon.... We praise Thee for the myriad influences of good, conscious and unconscious, that have been about us, deeply penetrating our inner life, shaping and fitting us for Thy Kingdom. Thou hast indeed forgiven all our iniquities, and healed all our diseases, and redeemed our life from destruction, and crowned us with loving-kindness. Therefore would we call upon our souls, and all that is within us, to bless Thy holy Name. Amen._--Samuel McComb. Twelfth Week, Third Day =For ye, brethren, were called for freedom; only use not your freedom for an occasion to the flesh, but through love be servants one to another. For the whole law is fulfilled in one word, even in this: Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself. But if ye bite and devour one another, take heed that ye be not consumed one of another.--Gal. 5:13-15.= One fundamental reason for the endless revival of the Church is that faith never is satisfied until it issues in work. It insists on our being "servants one to another." We have spoken of God's merciful acceptance of a man when out of sin he turns his life by faith toward Christ; but to interpret this as meaning the adequacy of faith without effective service is to misread Scripture and to demoralize life. Faith that does not lead to service is no real faith at all. But whenever men endeavor to express in work any faith which they may hold they must come together. Service involves cooperation. A hermit may have faith, but his faith does not concern any ideal hopes on earth; it has no outlooks save upon his own soul's condition in the world to come; it is a narrow, selfish, inoperative thing. As soon as men are grasped by some moving faith about what ought to be done for God's service and man's welfare here and now, a hermit's solitude or any sort of unaffiliated life becomes impossible. They must combine in a fellowship of faith and of labor to seek common ends. They begin to say with Edward Rowland Sill, "For my part I long to 'fall in' with somebody. This picket duty is monotonous. I hanker after a shoulder on this side and the other." And to fall in with others to serve Christian ends means some kind of church. Let us pray today for a church more fit to express this passion to serve. _God, we pray for Thy Church, which is set today amid the perplexities of a changing order, and face to face with a great new task. We remember with love the nurture she gave to our spiritual life in its infancy, the tasks she set for our growing strength, the influence of the devoted hearts she gathers, the steadfast power for good she has exerted. When we compare her with all other human institutions, we rejoice, for there is none like her. But when we judge her by the mind of her Master, we bow in pity and contrition. Oh, baptize her afresh in the life-giving spirit of Jesus! Grant her a new birth, though it be with the travail of repentance and humiliation. Bestow upon her a more imperious responsiveness to duty, a swifter compassion with suffering, and an utter loyalty to the will of God. Put upon her lips the ancient Gospel of her Lord. Help her to proclaim boldly the coming of the Kingdom of God and the doom of all that resist it. Fill her with the prophet's scorn of tyranny, and with a Christ-like tenderness for the heavy-laden and down-trodden. Give her faith to espouse the cause of the people, and in their hands that grope after freedom and light to recognize the bleeding hands of the Christ. Bid her cease from seeking her own life, lest she lose it. Make her valiant to give up her life to humanity, that like her crucified Lord she may mount by the path of the cross to a higher glory. Amen._--Walter Rauschenbusch. Twelfth Week, Fourth Day =For the scripture saith, Whosoever believeth on him shall not be put to shame. For there is no distinction between Jew and Greek: for the same Lord is Lord of all, and is rich unto all that call upon him: for, Whosoever shall call upon the name of the Lord shall be saved. How then shall they call on him in whom they have not believed? and how shall they believe in him whom they have not heard? and how shall they hear without a preacher? and how shall they preach, except they be sent? even as it is written, How beautiful are the feet of them that bring glad tidings of good things!--Rom. 10:11-15.= The necessity of affiliation for effective faith is clear when one considers the missionary enterprise. One of the noblest qualities in human life is our natural desire to share our blessings. Every normal child is happier when some other child is joining in the play; every lover of music is gladdened by sharing with a friend enjoyment of a favorite symphony; save in singularly churlish folk the love of having others partake our joys is spontaneous and hearty. To those whom Christian faith, has blessed with hope and power, the undeniable impulse comes to share these finest benedictions with all other men. The missionary enterprise does not rest upon a text; it wells up from one of the worthiest impulses in man's life. One may be fairly sure, that save as some perverted theology inhibits a spirit of love, a man's missionary interest will be proportionate to the reality and value of his own experience. If he himself has something well worth sharing, he will want to share it. But the missionary enterprise is more than any individual can compass; it demands organization, cooperation, and massed resources; it cannot be prosecuted without a church. The further our thought proceeds the more clear it becomes that the question is not, shall we have churches? but rather, since churches are inevitable, of what sort shall they be? _O Thou who hast made all nations of men to seek Thee and to find Thee; bless, we beseech Thee, Thy sons and daughters who have gone forth, into distant lands, bearing in their hands Thy Word of Life. We rejoice that, touched with the enthusiasm of Christ, so many have consecrated their lives to proclaiming the message of Thy love to those other sheep of Thine who are not of our fold, that they may be united with us and that there may be one flock and one Shepherd. Help Thy ministering servants to recognize the fragments of truth and goodness that are ever found where men are sincere and to claim these glimpses of Thyself as the prophecies of a fuller revelation. When discouraged by the hardness of their task, and the meager fruit of all their labor, give them faith to see the far-off whitening harvest. Inspire them with Thy gracious promise that though the sower may go forth weeping, bearing precious seed, he will come again with joy, bringing his sheaves with him. Comfort them in their exile and loneliness with a sense of Thy companionship and with the prayers and sympathy of their brethren at home. Through them let Thy Word have free course and be glorified. And so let Thy Kingdom come, and Thy Will be done on earth as in Heaven, for Jesus Christ's sake. Amen._--Samuel McComb. Twelfth Week, Fifth Day =After this manner therefore pray ye: Our Father who art in heaven, Hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come. Thy will be done, as in heaven, so on earth. Give us this day our daily bread. And forgive us our debts, as we also have forgiven our debtors. And bring us not into temptation, but deliver us from the evil one. For if ye forgive men their trespasses, your heavenly Father will also forgive you. But if ye forgive not men their trespasses, neither will your Father forgive your trespasses.--Matt. 6:9-15.= The central ideal of Christian effort is set for us in the first petition of the Master's prayer. But a Kingdom on earth, with God's will done here in heavenly fashion, is a social idea. It means not only right personal quality; it means right family life, and economic, political, and international relationships Christianized. No amount of fine individual character, necessary as it is, will of itself rectify the social maladjustments and inequities. Were everyone as good as possible, we still should need organized action. All parts of an engine may be correct, and yet they may be wrongly fitted together. As it is, social relations obviously demand concerted action; we must join together to combat immoral industrial conditions, to throttle the liquor traffic, to make human fraternity a fact and not a dream. The opposition to all such reforms is organized, and no haphazard attack will succeed. Now, many organizations may arise to serve special ends and may do excellent service to the cause, but what has proved true in the conflict with the liquor traffic, is true also of enterprises for industrial justice and international cooperation--_only when the churches see the moral issue and put their power in, is there any hope of victory_. A Christian whose faith involves the Kingdom sees plainly that he cannot go on without the Church. _O Lord, we praise Thy holy name, for Thou hast made bare Thine arm in the sight of all nations and done wonders. But still we cry to Thee in the weary struggle of our people against the power of drink. Remember, Lord, the strong men who were led astray and blighted in the flower of their youth. Remember the aged who have brought their gray hairs to a dishonored grave. Remember the homes that have been made desolate of joy, the wifely love that has been outraged in its sanctuary, the little children who have learned to despise where once they loved. Remember, O Thou great avenger of sin, and make this nation to remember._ _May those who now entrap the feet of the weak and make their living by the degradation of men, thrust away their shameful gains and stand clear. But if their conscience is silenced by profit, do Thou grant Thy people the indomitable strength of faith to make an end of it. May all the great churches of our land shake off those who seek the shelter of religion for that which damns, and stand with level front against their common foe. May all who still soothe their souls with half-truths, saying "Peace, peace," where there can be no peace, learn to see through Thy stem eyes and come to the help of Jehovah against the mighty. Help us to cast down the men in high places who use the people's powers to beat back the people's hands from the wrong they fain would crush._ _O God, bring nigh the day when all our men shall face their daily task with minds undrugged and with tempered passions; when the unseemly mirth of drink shall seem a shame to all who hear and see; when the trade that debauches men shall be loathed like the trade that debauches women; and when all this black remnant of savagery shall haunt the memory of a new generation but as an evil dream of the night. For this accept our vows, O Lord, and grant Thine aid. Amen._--Walter Rauschenbusch. Twelfth Week, Sixth Day =Neither for these only do I pray, but for them also that believe on me through their word; that they may all be one; even as thou, Father, art in me, and I in thee, that they also may be in us: that the world may believe that thou didst send me. And the glory which thou hast given me I have given unto them; that they may be one, even as we are one; I in them, and thou in me, that they may be perfected into one; that the world may know that thou didst send me, and lovedst them, even as thou lovedst me.--John 17:20-23.= To the Christian the Church is a problem, just because she is a necessity. He caught his faith from the contagion of her fellowship and he sees that if he is to serve effectively the ideals of Christ and the coming of the Kingdom he must work through some church. But because the Church is necessary, he is not thereby made content with her. She is at once helping and hindering the spread of the faith; she is the source of immeasurable good and yet she is not "one, that the world may believe." A traveler across the American plains in springtime sees fences, tiresomely prominent, staring at him from the landscape; but in summer when he returns the fences are invisible. The wheat and corn are growing, the earth is bearing fruit, and while the old divisions may be there, they all are hidden. One suspects that if Christians everywhere set themselves with hearty zeal to bear the fruit of service for the common weal, if they gave themselves to achieve the aims of Christ for men with ardor and thoroughness, the sectarian divisions would grow unimperative and disappear. We may not be able to think the disagreements through, but we may be able to work them out; even where we cannot recite a common creed, we can share a common purpose. The War, where Jewish rabbis have held crucifixes before the eyes of dying soldiers, and where Catholic priests have met death, as one did at Gallipoli, following a Wesleyan chaplain--"my Protestant comrade"--into danger, has revealed how deeply underneath our sharp divisions our spiritual loyalties seek unity when crisis comes. For all the unity that can come without compromise to conscience, surely the Christian people are bound to pray and work. _O God, the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, our only Saviour, the Prince of Peace; give us grace seriously to lay to heart the great dangers we are in by our unhappy divisions. Take away all hatred and prejudice, and whatsoever else may hinder us from godly union and concord; that as there is but one body and one Spirit, and one hope of our calling, one Lord, one faith, one baptism, one God and Father of us all, so we may be all of one heart and of one soul, united in one holy bond of truth and peace, of faith and charity, and may with one mind and one mouth glorify Thee, through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen._--"The Book of Common Prayer." Twelfth Week, Seventh Day =For I am already being offered, and the time of my departure is come. I have fought the good fight, I have finished the course, I have kept the faith: henceforth there is laid up for me the crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous judge, shall give to me at that day; and not to me only, but also to all them that have loved his appearing.--II Tim. 4:6-8.= The fellowship of faith is not bounded by the earth. Paul's expectation took into its account a communion that far overreached the confines of temporal experience. The New Testament believers not only held but vividly apprehended that the "whole family" to which they belonged in Christian communion was "in heaven and on earth." Their outlook Wordsworth has expressed in modern words: "There is One great society alone on earth: The noble Living and the noble Dead." To that society of the world's prophets and martyrs, seers and servants, it may well be a man's ambition to belong. And that ideal is not impossible to anyone, for the mark and seal of their fellowship is that they have "kept the faith." When others despaired, lost heart, and deserted causes on which man's welfare hung, they kept the faith. When mysteries perplexed their minds and discouragement, to human vision, was more rational than hope, they turned from sight to insight and they kept the faith. When new knowledge, half-understood, disturbed old forms of thought and multitudes were confused in uncertainty and disbelief, they kept the faith. And they often came to their end, like Paul, having "suffered the loss of all things"--yet not all, for they had kept the faith. "For all the saints, who from their labors rest, Who Thee by faith before the world confessed, Thy name, O Jesus, be forever blest, Alleluia! O may Thy soldiers, faithful, true, and bold, Fight as the saints who nobly fought of old, And win with them the victor's crown of gold, Alleluia! O blest communion, fellowship Divine! We feebly struggle; they in glory shine; Yet all are one in Thee, for all are Thine. Alleluia!" _O God, Thou only Refuge of Thy children! who remainest true though all else should fail, and livest though all things die; cover us now when we fly to Thee. Thy shelter was around our fathers. Thy voice called them away, and bids us seek Thee here till we depart to be with them. In Thy memory are the lives of all men from of old. Before Thy sight are the secret hearts of all the living. We stand in awe of Thy justice which, since the ages began, hath never changed: and we cling to Thy mercy that passeth not away._ _Almighty Father, Thou art a God afar off as well as nigh at hand. Thou who in times past didst pity the prayers of our forerunners, and especially of that suffering servant of Thine whom Thou hast made our Leader unto Thee! be pleased to strengthen us now, O Lord, to bear our lighter cross and surrender ourselves for duty and for trial unto Thee. Show us something of the blessed peace with which they now look back on their days of strong crying and tears, and teach us that it is far better to die in Thy service than to live for our own. Rebuke within us all immoderate desires, all unquiet temper, all presumptuous expectations, all ignoble self-indulgence, and feeling on us the embrace of Thy Fatherly hand, may we meekly and with courage go into the darkest ways of our pilgrimage, anxious not to change Thy perfect will, but only to do and bear it worthily. May we spend all our days in Thy presence, and meet our death in the strength of Thy grace, and pass thence into the nearer light of Thy knowledge and love. Amen._--John Hunter. COMMENT FOR THE WEEK I So far in our studies we have been dealing with the individual believer in his search for a reasonable faith. But we must face at last what from the beginning has been true, that there is no such thing as an individual believer. _All faiths are social._ However little we may be aware of each other's influence, however intangible the social forces which shape the convictions by which we live, no man builds or keeps his faiths alone. We may pride ourselves on our independent thought, but the fact remains as Prof. William James has stated it: "Our faith is faith in some one else's faith, and in the greatest matters this is most the case." The realm of religious conviction is not the only place where we hold with a strong sense of personal possession what has been given us by others, and often forget to acknowledge our indebtedness. We believe in democracy and popular education, not because by some gift of individual genius we are wiser than our unbelieving sires, but because, in the advance of the race, that faith has been wrought out by many minds, and, with minute addition of our own thought, we share the general conviction. As a man considers how rich and varied are the faiths he holds, how few of them he ever has thought through or ever can, and how helpless he would be, if he were set from the beginning to create any one of them, he gains new insight into Paul's words, "What hast thou that thou didst not receive? but if thou didst receive it, why dost thou glory as if thou hadst not received it?" (I Cor. 4:7). Indeed, this same truth holds in every relationship. Nothing is more impossible than a "self-made man." In no realm can that common phrase be intelligently applied to anyone. If in business one has risen from poverty to wealth, he has used railroads that he did not invent and telephones that he does not even understand; he has built his business on a credit system for which he did not labor and whose moral basis has been laid in the ethical struggles of unnumbered generations. For the clothes he wears, the food he eats, the education he receives, he is debtor to a social life that taps the ends of the earth and that has cost blood not his and money which he never can repay. If granting this, a man still say, "My power and the might of my hand hath gotten me this wealth" (Deut. 8:17), he may well consider whence his power has come. His distant ancestors stalked through primeval forests, their brows sloped back, their hairy hides barren of clothes, and in their hands stone hatchets, by the aid of which they sought their food. What has this Twentieth Century boaster done to change the habits of the Stone Age to the civilization on which his wealth is based or to elevate man's intellect to the grasp and foresight of the modern business world? All the power by which he wins his way is clearly a social gift, and any contribution which he may add is infinitesimal compared with his receipts. By this truth all declarations of individual independence need to be chastened and controlled and all boasting cancelled utterly. Normal minds have their times of self-assertion in religion, when they grow impatient of believing anything simply because they have been told. As a college Junior put it: "I must clear the universe of God, and then start in at the beginning to see what I can find." But to assert a reasonable independence ought not to mean that one cut himself off from the support of history, the accumulated experience of the race, the insight of the seers, and in unassisted isolation walk, like Kipling's cat, "by his wild lone." No man can do that anywhere and still succeed. Imagine a man, in politics, dubious of his old affiliations and disturbed by the conflicting opinions of his day. If, so perplexed, he should throw over all that ever had been thought or done in civic life, and in an unaided individual adventure attempt out of his own mind to constitute a state, in what utter confusion would he land! No mind can begin work as though it were the first mind that ever acted, or were the only mind in action now. All effective thinking is social; contributions from innumerable heads pour in to make a wise man's knowledge. And to suppose that any man can climb the steep ascent of heaven all alone and lay his hands comprehensively on the Eternal is preposterous. No one ever apprehended a science so, much less God! Even Jesus fed his soul on the prophets of his race. II Indeed, Jesus' attitude toward the fellowship of faith is most revealing, seen against the background of his nation's history. In the beginning, there was in Israel no such thing as individual religion. In the earliest strata of the Bible's revelation, we find no indication of a faith that brought God and each of his people into intimate relationships. Jehovah was the God of the nation as a whole and not of the people one by one. When he spoke, he spoke to the community through a leader; "Speak thou with us and we will hear," the people cried to Moses, "but let not God speak with us lest we die" (Exodus 20:19). It was at the time of the Exile, when the nation fell in ruins, and the hearts of faithful Jews were thrown back one by one on God that individual trust, peace, joy, and confidence found utterance. It was Jeremiah (Chap. 31) and Ezekiel (Chap. 18) who saw men individually responsible to God, and who opened the way for loyal Jews to be his people even when the nation was no more. And what they began Jesus completed. He lifted up the individual and made each man the object of the Father's care. "It is not the will of your Father ... that _one_ of these little ones should perish" (Matt 18:14). "What man of you, having a hundred sheep, and having lost _one_ of them ..." (Luke 15:4). "The very hairs of your head are all numbered" (Matt. 10:30). As for religion's inner meaning, it became in Jesus' Gospel not a national ritual but a private faith: "But thou, when thou prayest, enter into thine inner chamber, and having shut thy door, pray to thy Father who is in secret" (Matt. 6:6). While Jesus, however, so emphasized the inward, individual aspects of religion, he did not leave it there, as though persons could ever be like jugs in the rain, separate receptacles that share neither their emptiness nor their abundance. He bound his disciples into a fellowship. He joined their channels until, like interflowing streams, one contributed to all and the spirit of all was expressed in each. He braided them into friendship with himself and with each other, so close that the community did what no isolated believer ever could have done--it survived the shock of the crucifixion, the agony of sustained persecution, the frailties of its members, and the discouragements of its campaign. On that _group_ the Master counted for his work: "The gates of Hades shall not prevail against it" (Matt. 16:18). And when the New Testament Church emerged, the fellowship which Christ himself had breathed into it was clear and strong. Men who became Christians, in the New Testament, came into a new relationship with God indeed, but into a new human fraternity as well. They were "builded together for a habitation of God through the Spirit" (Eph. 2:22), and even when death came that fellowship was not destroyed. They were still "the whole family in heaven and on earth" (Eph. 3:15). John Wesley was right: "The Bible knows nothing of a solitary religion." In the Old Testament religion was predominantly national; in the New Testament, individuals rejoicing in the "Beloved Community" could not describe their life without the reiteration of "one another." They were to "pray one for another" and "confess sins one to another" (James 5:16); they were to "love one another" (I Pet 1:22), "exhort one another" (Heb. 3:13), "comfort one another" (I Thess. 4:18); they were to "bear one another's burdens" (Gal. 6:2) and in communal worship "admonish one another with psalms and hymns and spiritual songs" (Col. 3:16). So when they thought of their faith, they never held it in solitary confidence; they were "strong to apprehend _with all the saints_ what is the breadth and length and height and depth, and to know the love of Christ which passeth knowledge" (Eph. 3:18). III When a modern believer endeavors to interpret this spirit in the New Testament in terms of his own wants, he sees at once that he needs fellowship for the _enriching_ of his faith. Cooperation for achievement is a modern commonplace, but when Paul prayed, as we have quoted him, that the Ephesians might be "strong to _apprehend_ with all the saints," he was stating the more uncommon proposition that men must cooperate for knowledge. He saw the divine love in its length, breadth, depth, and height on one side, and on the other a solitary man endeavoring to understand it. Impossible! said Paul; the divine love in its fulness cannot be known in solitude, it must be apprehended in fellowship. At first nothing seems more strictly individual than knowledge. To know is an intimate, personal affair; it cannot be carried on by proxy. But even casual thought at once makes clear that in solitude we cannot know even the physical universe. No man can go apart and through the narrow aperture of his own mind see the full round of truth. For astronomers study the stars, geologists the rocks, chemists know their special field and physicists know theirs; each scientist understands in part, and if one is to know the breadth and length and height and depth of the physical world he must be strong to apprehend with all the scientists. In religion this necessity of cooperation in knowing God may not at first seem evident. In the secret session behind closed doors, as Jesus said, one finds his clearest thought of God, and in the individual heart the divine illumination comes. So some insist; and the answer does not deny, but surpasses the truth in the insistence. _Is yours the only heart where God is to be found? Does the sea of his grace exhaust itself in what it can reveal in your bay?_ Rather, in how many different ways men come to God, how various their experiences of him, and how much each needs the rest for breadth and catholicity of view! One man comes to God by way of intellectual perplexity and he knows chiefly faith's illumination of life's puzzling problems; another comes through the experience of sin and he responds to such a phrase as "God our Saviour" (I Tim. 1:1); another comes to God through trouble and has found in faith "eternal comfort and good hope through grace" (II Thess. 2:16); and another by way of a happy life has found in God the object of devoted gratitude. One, a mystic, finds God in solitary prayer; another, a worker, knows him chiefly as the Divine Ally. Some are very young and have a child's religion; some are at the summit of their years and have a strong man's achieving faith; and some are old and are familiar with the face of death and the thought of the eternal. How multiform is man's experience of God! Some compositions cannot be interpreted by a solo. Let the first violinist play with what skill he can, he alone is not adequate to the endeavor. There must be an orchestra; the oboes and viols, the drums and trumpets, the violins and cellos must all be there. So faith in God is too rich and manifold to be interpreted by individuals alone; a fellowship is necessary. Even Paul, in one of his most gloriously mixed-up and yet revealing sentences, prays for fellowship that his faith may be enriched: "I long to see you, that I may impart unto you some spiritual gift, to the end ye may be established; that is, that I with you may be comforted in you, each of us by the other's faith, both yours and mine" (Rom. 1:11, 12). Poverty of faith, therefore, is not due only to individual lapses of character and perplexities of mind; _it is due to neglect of Christian fellowship_. One who with difficulty has clung to his slender experience of God, goes up to the church on Sunday. Even though it be a humble place of prayer, if the worship is genuine, the hymns, the prayers, the Scriptures gather up the testimony of centuries to the reality of God. Here David speaks again and Isaiah answers; here Paul reaffirms his faith and John is confident that God is love. Here the saints before Christ cry, "Jehovah is my rock, and my fortress, and my deliverer" (Psalm 18:2), and the sixteenth century answers, "A mighty fortress is our God"; and the nineteenth century replies, "How firm a foundation, ye saints of the Lord!" We go up to the church finding it hard to sing, "_My_ Jesus, _I_ love thee, _I_ know thou art _mine_"; we go down with a _Te Deum_ in our hearts: "The glorious company of the apostles praise thee; The goodly fellowship of the prophets praise thee; The noble army of martyrs praise thee; The holy Church throughout all the world doth acknowledge thee." In the rich and varied faiths of the Church we find a far more fruitful relationship with God than by ourselves we ever could have gained. Without such an enriching experience men can only with difficulty keep faith alive. Twigs that snap out of the camp-fire lose their flame and fall, charred sticks; but put them back and they will burn again, for fire springs from fellowship. Amiel, after an evening of solitude with a favorite book on philosophy, wrote what is many a Christian's prayer: "Still I miss something--common worship, a positive religion, shared with other people. Ah! when will the church to which I belong in heart rise into being? I cannot, like Scherer, content myself with being in the right all alone. I must have a less solitary Christianity." IV Men need fellowship, not only for the enrichment of their faith, but for its _stability_. No man can successfully believe anything all alone. Let an opinion in any realm be denied, despised, neglected by common consent of men, and not easily do we hold an unshaken conviction of its truth. But let it be agreed with, supported and endorsed by many, especially by men of insight, and with each additional testimony to its truth our faith grows confident. A fundamental experience of man is that his faiths are socially confirmed. Authority of some sort, therefore, never is outgrown in any province of knowledge, and strugglers after faith have solid right to the sustenance which it can give. For one thing the authority of the _expert_ is acknowledged everywhere. When a great astronomer speaks about the stars, most of us put our hands upon our mouths and humble ourselves to listen. If in science, expert knowledge has this authority--not artificial, infallible, and externally enforced, but vital, serviceable, and real--how much more in realms where insight and spiritual quality are indispensable! Such authority comes in the spirit of Paul: "Not that we have lordship over your faith, but are helpers of your joy" (II Cor. 1:24). An amateur stands before a picture like Turner's "The Building of Carthage" and either does not notice the details, or noticing sees no special meaning there. But when Ruskin, Turner's seer, begins to speak--how wonderful the children in the foreground sailing toy boats in a pool, prophecy of Carthage's future greatness on the sea!--one by one the details take fire and glow with meaning as our eyes are opened. Such is the service of a real authority. It does not, as Weigel says, put out a person's eye and then try to persuade him to see with some one else's. It rather cures our blindness and enables us to see what by ourselves we were incapable of seeing. Christ supremely, when allowed to be himself, has helped men thus. He has not oppressed the mind with burdensome authority, denying us our right to think. He has come appealing to our little insight with his own clear vision, "Why even of yourselves judge ye not what is right?" (Luke 12:57). Things which we see dimly he has clarified; things which we did not see at all, he has made manifest. He has been what he called himself, the Light, and his people have said of him what the man in John's ninth chapter said, "He opened mine eyes" (John 9:30). A struggler after faith may well count among his assets the insight of the seers and of the Seer. As another states it: "Our weak faith may at times be permitted to look through the eyes of some strong soul, and may thereby gain a sense of the certainty of spiritual things which before we had not." Beside the authority of the seers, there is _the authority of racial experience_, to which indeed no mind ought slavishly to subject itself, but from which all minds ought to gain insight and confidence. Tradition has done us much disservice. Oppressions that might long before have been outgrown have been counted holy because they were hoary. There must be something to commend an opinion or a custom beside its age, and all progress depends upon recognizing that "Time makes ancient good uncouth." But if out of the past have come evils to be overthrown, out of the past also have come the best possessions of the race. "Traditional" has grown to be an adjective of ill repute; it signifies in common parlance the inheritance of oppressive ideals and institutions that hold the "dead hand" over hopes of progress. But our best music also, our poetry, and our art are traditional; the discoveries of our scientists on the long road from alchemy to chemistry, from magic to physics are traditional; all that each new generation begins with, fitted out like the well-favored child of a provident father, is traditional. No one can describe the utter barrenness of life, if we could not build on the accumulations of our sires, using the result of their toil as the basis of our work, their hardly won wisdom as our guide. To discount anything because it is traditional is to discount everything, except that comparatively minute addition which each new generation makes to the slowly accumulating wisdom and wealth of the race. As Mr. Chesterton has put it: "Tradition may be defined as the extension of the franchise. Tradition means giving votes to the most obscure of all classes, our ancestors. It is the democracy of the dead. Tradition refuses to submit to the small and arrogant oligarchy of those who merely happen to be walking about. All democrats object to men being disqualified by the accident of birth; tradition objects to their being disqualified by the accident of death. Democracy tells us not to neglect a good man's opinion, even if he is our groom; tradition asks us not to neglect a good man's opinion, even if he is our father." Now racial experience is dubious at many points and at very few does it approach finality. But on one matter it speaks with a unanimity that is nothing short of absolute. _Man cannot live without religion_--like the earth beneath the mountain peaks this universal experience of the race underlies the special insights of the seers. When during the mid-Victorian discomfiture of faith at the first disclosures of the new science, Tennyson's "In Memoriam" appeared, Prof. Sidgwick wrote of it, "What 'In Memoriam' did for us, for me at least in this struggle, was to impress on us the ineffable and irradicable conviction that _humanity_ will not and cannot acquiesce in a godless world." That conviction is confirmed by the whole experience of the race. To be sure religion, like love, exists in all degrees. From degraded lust to the relationship of Robert Browning and Elizabeth Barrett, love is infinite in variety; it takes its quality from the character of those whom it affects; yet through all its changes it is itself so built into the structure of mankind, that though there be loveless individuals, life as a whole is unimaginable without it. So religion runs the gamut of human quality. In a Hindu idolater it performs disgusting rites to placate an angry god, and in Rabindranath Tagore it cries: "If thou speakest not I will fill my heart with thy silence and endure it. I will keep still and wait like the night with starry vigil and its head bent low with patience. The morning will surely come, the darkness will vanish, and thy voice pour down in golden streams, breaking through the sky." In Torquemada it is cruel; in Father Damien it becomes a passion for saviorhood. Religion helped Sennacherib to his campaigns and Isaiah to his prophecies; it preached the Sermon on the Mount and it dragged Jesus before Pilate. Can the same spring send forth sweet water and bitter? But religion does it, for religion is life motived by visions of God; it is tremendous in strength, but with man's unequal power to understand the Divine, it is ambiguous in quality. Like electricity, it is magnificent in blessing or terrible in curse. Yet through all its degrees man's relationship with the Invisible is so essentially a part of his humanity that lacking it he has never yet been discovered, and without it he cannot be conceived. It was this impressive witness of racial experience that made John Fiske, of Harvard, say, "Of all the implications of the doctrine of evolution with regard to man, I believe the very deepest and strongest to be that which asserts the Everlasting Reality of Religion." This testimony of the spiritual seers and this cumulative experience of the race have a right to play a weighty part in any consideration of religious faith. Even a rebellious youth might pause before he scoffs at a mature and thoughtful mind, letting his Church, his Scripture, and his Christ speak impressively to him about the reality of God. What we all do in every other realm, when we are wise, this mind is doing in religion. His individual grasp on truth he sets in the perspective of history. He does not feel himself upon a lonely quest when he seeks God; rather he feels behind him and around him the race of which he is a part and which never yet has ceased to believe in the Divine, and he sees his own insights illumined by those supreme spirits who have talked with God "as a man talketh with his friend." He knows as well as any youth that authority has been stereotyped in theories of artificial infallibility, to which no mature mind for a moment can weakly surrender its right to think, but he refuses to give up a real authority because some have held a false one. The authority of the dictionary is one thing--literal and external. But the authority of a good mother moves on a different plane. It is not artificial and oppressive. It is vital and inspiring. She has lived longer, experienced more than her children; she is wiser, better, more discerning than they. A man who has had experience of great motherhood comes to feel that if his mother thinks something very strongly and very persistently, he would better consider that thing well, for the chances are overwhelming that there is truth in it. How much more shall he feel so about the age-long experience of the saints with God! In this respect at least there still is truth in Cyprian's words, "He that hath God for his Father, hath the Church for his Mother." V Faith needs fellowship not alone for enrichment and stability, but for _expression_. For faith, as from the beginning we have maintained, is not an effortless acceptance of ideas or personal relationships; it is an active appropriation of convictions that drive life, and Christian faith especially has always involved a campaign whose object is the saving of the world. Such an expression of religious life involves cooperation; men cannot effectively support the "work of faith" (I Thess. 1:3) apart from fellowship. The necessity for this cooperative expression of religion is clear when we consider the _one in whom we believe_. How anyone can expect in solitude to believe in Christ is a mystery. For Christ, with overflowing love to those who shared his filial fellowship with God, said, "No longer do I call you servants ... I have called you friends" (John 15:15); his care encompassed folk who never heard of him and whom he never saw, "Other sheep I have, which are not of this fold: them also I must bring ... and they shall become one flock, one shepherd" (John 10:16); and beyond his generation's life his love reached out to followers yet unborn, "Them also that believe on me through their word" (John 17:20). Whatever other quality a movement sprung from such a source may possess, it must be social. Moreover, Jesus' faith was active; the meaning of it he himself disclosed, "All things are possible to him that believeth" (Mark 9:23). In such a spirit, both by himself and through his followers, he sought the lost, healed the sick, preached the Gospel, and expectantly proclaimed an earth transformed to heaven. Such a character cannot be known in contemplation under the trees in June or through the pages of an interesting book. If Garibaldi, leading his men to the liberation of Italy, had found a devotee who said, I believe in you; I love to read your deeds, and often in my solitary, meditative hours I am cheered by the thought of you--one can easily imagine the swift and penetrating answer! That you believe in me is false; no one believes in me who does not share my purpose; the army is afoot, great business is ahead, the cause is calling, he who believes follows. Such a spirit was Christ's. The hermits, whether of old time in their cells, or of modern time with their unaffiliated lives, are wrong. _The final test of faith in Christ is fellowship in work._ The Church itself has been to blame for much undedicated faith. Correctness of opinion has been substituted, as a test, for fidelity of life. "Believe in the Lord Jesus Christ and thou shalt be saved," has been interpreted to mean: accept a theory about Christ's person and all is well. But one need only go back in imagination to the time when first that formula was used to see how vital was its import. To believe in Christ then meant to accept a despised religion, to break ties that men value more than life, to face the certainty of contempt and the risk of violence. To believe in Christ then meant coming out from old relationships and going to a sect where one was pilloried with derision, that one might work for the things which Christ represents. No one did that as a theory; it required a tremendous thrust of the will, a decision that reached to the roots of life. All this was involved in believing on Christ, and our decent holding of a theory about him, in a time when all lips praise him, is a poor substitute for such vital faith. John tells us that once a multitude of Jews professed belief in Jesus, but the Master, hearing their affirmations, saw the superficial meaning there. "Many believed on his name," says John--"but Jesus did not trust himself unto them" (John 2:23, 24). How many believe in Christ in such a way that he cannot believe in them! They forget that while the test of a man is his faith, the test of faith is faithfulness. An apostolic injunction needs modern enforcement, "that they who have believed God may be careful to maintain good works" (Titus 3:8). The necessity for a cooperative expression of religion is evident again in the _truth which we believe_. Take in its simplest form the Gospel which Christianity presents, that God is in earnest about personality, and what urgency is there for associated work! For personality is being ruined in this world. False ideas of life, idolatry whether to fetishes in Africa or to money here, irreligion in all its manifold and blighting forms, are destroying personality from within, and from without sweatshops, tenements, war, the liquor traffic, industrial inequity, are engaged in the same task of ruin. The common contrast between individual and social Christianity is superficial. The one thing for which the Christian cares is personal life, and in its culture and salvation he sees the aim of God and Godlike men. Whatever, therefore, affects _that_ is his concern, and what is there that does not affect it? What men believe about life's meaning and its destiny strikes to the core of personal life, and the houses in which men live, the conditions under which they work, the wages that they are paid, and the environments which surround their plastic childhood--these, too, mould for good or ill the fortunes of personality. The Christian, therefore, who intelligently holds the faith that he professes cannot be negligent either of evangelism, education, and missionary enterprise upon the one side, or of social reformation on the other. These are two ends of the tunnel by which the Gospel seeks to open out a way for personality to find its freedom. A man who says that he believes in Jesus Christ, and yet is complacent about child labor and commercialized vice, poor housing conditions and unjust wages, the trade in liquor and the butchery of men in war, stands in peril of hearing the twenty-third chapter of Matthew's gospel brought up to date for his especial benefit by the same lips that spoke it first. The indignation of the Master falls on priests and Levites who, speeding to the temple service, "pass by on the other side" the victims of social injury. Isolated Christians, however, cannot further this campaign for personality redeemed from inward ills and outward handicaps. _Evil is organized, and goodness must be, too._ As wisely would a single patriot shoulder a rifle and set out for France as would an unaffiliated Christian set his solitary strength against the massed evil of the world. Men increase effectiveness by a large per cent through fellowship, as ancient Hebrews saw: "Five of you shall chase a hundred, and a hundred of you shall chase ten thousand" (Lev. 26:8). VI Many secondary fellowships offer to a Christian opportunity for associated service; no cooperative endeavor to make this a better world for God to rear his children in should lack Christian sympathy and support. But the primary fellowship of Christians is the Church. Some indeed would have no church; they would have man's spiritual life a disembodied wraith, without "a local habitation and a name." But no other one of all man's finer interests has survived without organized expression. Justice is a great ideal; any endeavor to incarnate it in human institutions sullies its purity. One who dwelt only on the lofty nature of justice, who thought of it uncontaminated and ideal, might protest against its embodiment in the tawdry ritual and demeaning squabbles of a law court. Between the poetry of justice and the recriminations of lawyers, the perjury of witnesses, the fumbling uncertainty of evidence, the miscarriages of equity, how bitterly a scornful mind could point the contrast! But a reverent mind, sorry as it may be at the misrepresentation of the ideal in the human institution, is ill content with scorn. He who with insight reads the history of jurisprudence, perceives how the courts of law, with all their faults, have conserved the gains in social equity, have propagated the ideal for which they stand, have made progress sometimes slowly, sometimes with a rush like soldiers storming a redoubt, and in times of stress have been a bulwark against the invasion of the people's rights. The poetry of justice would have been an idle dream without equity's laborious embodiment in codes and courts. Some minds dwell with joy upon the spiritual Church. Its names are written on no earthly roster, but in the Book of Life; its worship is offered in no earthly temple, but in the trysting places where soul meets Over-soul in trustful fellowship; its baptism is not with water but with spirit, its eucharist not with bread but with the shared life of the Lord. Or, ranging out to think of the Church as an ideal human brotherhood men dream as Manson did in "The Servant in the House": "If you have eyes, you will presently see the church itself--a looming mystery of many shapes and shadows, leaping sheer from floor to dome. The work of no ordinary builder!... The pillars of it go up like the brawny trunks of heroes: the sweet human flesh of men and women is moulded about its bulwarks, strong, impregnable: the faces of little children laugh out from every corner-stone: the terrible spans and arches of it are the joined hands of comrades; and up in the heights and spaces there are inscribed the numberless musings of all the dreamers of the world. It is yet building--building and built upon. Sometimes the work goes forward in deep darkness: sometimes in blinding light: now beneath the burden of unutterable anguish: now to the tune of a great laughter and heroic shoutings like the cry of thunder. Sometimes, in the silence of the night-time, one may hear the tiny hammerings of the comrades at work up in the dome--the comrades that have climbed ahead." All such ideals, like pillars of fire and cloud, lead the march toward a promised land. They are to the actual Church what the poetry of justice is to the actual courts. But in one case as in the other, such ideals are dreams if, with labor and struggle, through many mistakes, against the disheartenment of man's frailty and sin, we do not work out an institution that shall embody and express man's spiritual life. Even now a discerning spirit whose own faith has been nourished at the altar regards the Church with boundless gratitude. She has indeed been to the Gospel what courts are to justice, indispensable and yet burdensome, an institution that the ideal cannot live without and yet often cannot easily live with. No one feels her faults so acutely as one who devotedly values the Gospel and longs for its adequate expression on the earth. Yet the Church conserves the race's spiritual gains, fits out our youth with the treasure of man's accumulated faith, is a power house of endless moral energy for good causes in the world, exalts the ideal aims of life amid the crushing pressure of material pursuits, holds out a gospel of hope to men whom all others have forsaken, and to the ends of the earth proclaims the good pews of God and the Kingdom. No other fellowship offers to men of faith so great an opportunity to make distinctive contribution to the race's spiritual life. In the presence of the Church's service and the Church's need an unaffiliated believer in Jesus Christ is an anomaly. For enrichment, stability, and expression, faith must have fellowship. _"Oh magnify Jehovah with me, and let us exalt His name together"_ (Psalm 34:3). SCRIPTURE PASSAGES USED IN THE DAILY READINGS EXODUS 3:1-5 (VI-5); 4:24-26 (II-4). DEUTERONOMY 28:65-67 (VIII-2). II KINGS 21:3-6 (IV-5). JOB 30:20, 21, 25-27 (X-4); 37:23 (V-3); 38:31-38 (VII-1). PSALMS 16:5-11 (III-5); 23:1-4 (X-3); 27:1-6 (VIII-5); 27:7-14 (V-7); 51:1-4 (III-3); 55:1-7 (VIII-1); 56:1-3 (VIII-3); 73:2, 3, 16, 17, 24-26 (II-6); 103:1-5 (III-2); 118:1-6 (VIII-7); 145:1-10 (III-7); 146:1-5 (IV-1). PROVERBS 2:1-5 (II-3); 4:1-9 (II-2). ECCLESIASTES 3:11 (V-3). ISAIAH 1:10-17 (IV-2); 40:26-31 (V-4); 51:9-16 (VI-6); 55:1-3 (II-7). AMOS 5:21-24 (IX-4). MICAH 6:1-8 (IX-3). MATTHEW 6:6-14 (III-1); 6:9-15 (XII-5); 6:24-33 (VI-6); 7:15-20 (V-6); 7:24-27 (VI-7); 13:54-58 (XI-3); 17:19-20 (XI-4); 18:12-14 (II-4); 21:28-31 (X-1); 23:13-15, 23, 24 (XII-1); 25:34-40 (IX-7). MARK 12:28-30 (V-1). LUKE 6:12-16 (IX-2); 7:48-50 (XI-2); 18:9-14 (IV-3); 22:31, 32 (XI-6). JOHN 3:21 (IX-5); 4:23, 24 (IV-5); 6:16, 17 (IX-5); 6:27-29 (XI-1); 7:16, 17 (IX-5); 14:25-27 (VII-2); 17:20-23 (XII-6). ACTS 17:22-28 (IV-6). ROMANS 8:1-6 (X-7); 8:14-16 (V-5); 8:24, 25 (III-4); 10:11-15 (XII-4); 11:33, 34 (V-3); 11:33-12:2 (IX-6); 15:13 (III-4); 16:1-8 (IX-1). I CORINTHIANS 2:10-14 (VII-4); 3:4-9 (III-6); 3:18-23 (VII-6); 4:11-13 (VI-2). II CORINTHIANS 5:5 (V-2). GALATIANS 2:20 (XI-5); 5:13-15 (XII-3); 5:16-23 (IV-7). EPHESIANS 1:15-19 (VII-5); 4:13-15 (X-5). PHILIPPIANS 3:12-16 (X-6). I THESSALONIANS 3:1, 2, 10 (XI-6); 5:21 (V-1). II THESSALONIANS 1:3 (XI-6). I TIMOTHY 6:20, 21 (II-5). II TIMOTHY 1:3-5 (II-1); 4:6-8 (XII-7). HEBREWS 1:1, 2 (VII-7); 2:8-10 (VI-3); 4:1, 2, (I-6); 10:23-25 (XII-2); 10:32-36 (I-4); 11:1 (I-1); 11:3, 6 (I-5); 11:8-10 (I-2); 11:13-16 (I-1); 11:24-27 (I-2); 11:32-40 (I-3); 12:1-3 (VI-4); 13:7 (I-7). JAMES 1:2-8 (X-2); 2:14-21 (IV-4); 5:13-16 (VIII-4). I PETER 1:3-9 (XI-7); 4:12-16, 19 (VI-1). II PETER 1:5 (V-1). JUDE 20-25 (VII-3). SOURCES OF PRAYERS USED IN THE DAILY READINGS ALFRED, KING--IX-3, "A Chain of Prayer Across the Ages," by S. F. Fox. ANSELM, ST.--XI-6. "A Chain of Prayer Across the Ages," by S. F. Fox. ARNDT, JOHANN--IX-1; X-1. "A Chain of Prayer Across the Ages," by S. F. Fox. ARNOLD, THOMAS--VII-5. "A Chain of Prayer Across the Ages," by S. F. Fox. BACON, FRANCIS--VII-2. "A Chain of Prayer Across the Ages," by S. F. Fox. BEECHER, HENRY WARD--I-4; I-7; II-7; III-5; III-7; IV-7; V-7; VI-6; X-5. "A Book of Public Prayer." BOOK OF COMMON PRAYER--XII-6. DAWSON, GEORGE--X-4. "A Chain of Prayer Across the Ages," by S. F. Fox. HALE, SIR MATTHEW--VII-4. "A Chain of Prayer Across the Ages," by S. F. Fox. HUNTER, JOHN--I-1; IV-5; XI-2; XI-3; XII-7. "Devotional Services for Public Worship." JENKS, BENJAMIN--X-2. "A Chain of Prayer Across the Ages," by S. F. Fox. MCCOMB, SAMUEL--I-6; II-1; III-1; VI-3; VIII-1; VIII-2; VIII-3; VIII-5; VIII-6; VIII-7; IX-2; XI-1; XII-2; XII-4. "A Book of Prayers for Public and Personal Use." MARTINEAU, JAMES--III-4; IV-4; V-2; VI-2; XII-1. "Prayers in the Congregation and in College." NEWMAN, FRANCIS W.--VI-1; VI-7. "A Chain of Prayer Across the Ages," by S. F. Fox. ORCHARD, W. E.--I-2; I-3; II-2; II-3; II-4; II-5; II-6; III-2; IV-3; IV-6; V-1; V-3; V-6; VI-5; VII-1; VII-3; VII-7; VIII-4; IX-5; X-7; XI-5; XI-7. "The Temple." PARKER, THEODORE--I-5; V-4; V-5; VI-4; VII-6; X-6. "Prayers." RAUSCHENBUSCH, WALTER--III-6; IV-1; IV-2; IX-4; IX-6; XII-3; XII-5. "Prayers of the Social Awakening." ROBINSON, HELEN RING--XI-4. "Thy Kingdom Come," by Ralph E. Diffendorfer. SHAFTESBURY, EARL OF--IX-7. "A Chain of Prayer Across the Ages," by S. F. Fox. STEVENSON, ROBERT LOUIS--III-3. "Prayers Written at Vailima." VAN DYKE, HENRY--IV-6. "Thy Kingdom Come," by Ralph E. Diffendorfer. WEISS, S.--X-3. "A Chain of Prayer Across the Ages," by S. F. Fox. 
41500	----	A LAYMAN'S LIFE OF JESUS [Illustration: logo] A LAYMAN'S LIFE OF JESUS BY MAJOR S. H. M. BYERS OF GENERAL SHERMAN'S STAFF Author of "With Fire and Sword," "Sherman's March to the Sea," "Iowa in War Times," "Twenty Years in Europe," and of other books [Illustration: Publisher's Mark] NEW YORK THE NEALE PUBLISHING COMPANY 1912 Copyright, 1912, by THE NEALE PUBLISHING COMPANY PREFACE Every book should have a purpose. The object of this little volume is to try and harmonize, in a sense, and bring nearer to us, the story of the Master. It is free from the fog of creed, and the simple picture of the Times and the Man may help to waken new interest, especially with the young in the greatest tale of the world. H. S. M. B. Des Moines, Sept. 3, 1912. CONTENTS PAGE CHAPTER I 7 Palestine two thousand years ago. The Little Land of Galilee. An Oriental Village. The Boy Carpenter. CHAPTER II 12 A Boy of Babylon. The Founder of Judaism. Philo, the Philosopher. An out-door Man. The Poet-Carpenter. Staying in the Desert. The Silence of History. Where was Jesus in these silent years? CHAPTER III 23 Christ still a Jew. Is the Child's escape at Bethlehem still a secret? Performing wonders. A strange age. Rome still in the thrall of Heathendom. Augustus dead. Tiberius the Awful. Palestine itself half Heathen. A Religious Enthusiast. Jesus is ceasing to be a Jew. A church tyranny. Subjects of Cæsar. Human suffering counted for nothing with the Romans. The Jews are longing for the New Time when God might come and rule the world in Pity. An age of Superstitions and Magic. Laws of Science unknown. Nobody even knew that the world was round. CHAPTER IV 41 The Fairy Prince. His Home is everywhere. John the Baptist is preaching down by Jericho. The young Jesus hears of him and goes a hundred miles on foot to see him. A stranger steps down to the River to be baptized. Look quick, it is the Lamb of God! John is put to death in a palace by the Dead Sea. A Woman's Revenge. CHAPTER V 55 An Oriental Wedding, and the first miracle. Jairus. "Little Maid, Arise." The Light of the World. The Poet of the Lord. Do we know what a Miracle is? CHAPTER VI 67 A wandering Teacher. Lives in a borrowed house at Capernaum. The Testament Books, fragments written from memory. The whole Law of Life boiled down to Seven Words. He visits Tyre by the Ocean. Walking on the Sea. A hard saying, and not understood. His friends begin to leave Him. They demand Wonders, Miracles. Raffael's great picture. CHAPTER VII 82 Jesus goes alone and on foot to Jerusalem, to try and prove Himself. In six months they will kill Him. The rich Capital no place for Socialism. "If thou be Christ, tell us, plainly." He is a fugitive from a city mob. The Raising of Lazarus. Again the people are following Him. The great Sanhedrin is alarmed. "This Man has everybody believing on Him. He will create a Revolution yet." Jerusalem is in political danger, anyway; so is the Roman Empire. Everything seems going to pieces. "This Man has too many Followers; we must kill Him." Judas is hired to betray Him. CHAPTER VIII 94 The last supper. Leonardo's great picture. Betrayal. With a rope around his neck the Savior of mankind is dragged before a Roman Judge. The scene at Pilate's palace. Pilate's wife warns him. The awful murder and the End. A Layman's Life of Jesus CHAPTER I Palestine two thousand years ago. The Little Land of Galilee. An Oriental Village. The Boy Carpenter. One of the beauty spots of the world, a couple of thousand years ago, was the little land of Galilee, in upper Palestine. That was a land for poets and painters. Lonesome, deserted, and little inhabited as it seems now, there was a time when this little paradise of earth had many people and many handsome cities. "In my time," says Josephus, "there were not less than four hundred walled towns in Galilee." Nature, too, was lavish in its gifts to this little land. There were green valleys there, picturesque mountains, clear blue lakes, running brooks, and grassy fields. An Eastern sun shone on the province almost all the time. There was no winter there. Like a diamond in the very heart of this beautiful land sat the town of Nazareth, "The Flower of Galilee." Close by the village were the hills that fenced in the upper end of the plain of beautiful Esdralon. Figs grew there at Nazareth, and oranges, and grapes luscious and bountiful as nowhere else. The flower-lined lanes stretched from the village clear down to the blue lake of Galilee, only a dozen miles or so away. It must have been a delight to live in a climate so delicious, in a land so lovely. It all belonged to Rome then, as did the whole country known as Palestine. The Romans had divided the land into three provinces,--Galilee, Samaria, and Judea, with its splendid city of Jerusalem, then one of the noted capitals of the world. Governors or kings were appointed for these three provinces by the emperors at Rome; they were usually Orientals. Just now two sons of Herod the Great, oftener known as "the splendid Arab," are ruling there. The one named Herod is at Jerusalem; his brother Antipater, or Herod Antipas, is governing little Galilee in the north end of Palestine. Like many another Oriental king he is an idle, luxurious, dissipated, and corrupt ruler. There is yet another brother of these two kings. His name is Philip, and he lives in Rome. He has a very beautiful wife, who some day is to bring great trouble on the world, for Antipater will yet desert his Galilean queen and marry this Roman beauty. It is all in the time of the great Augustus that we are talking of now. In Rome it is called the Golden Age. It is not quite that in Palestine. Yet the world's greatest era is just beginning there. In how small a territory the world's greatest deeds are about to be enacted! Palestine, taken all together, did not make much of a country in area; many of the states in the American union have more square miles, but all the nations in the world combined have no such history. Palestine is a strip of territory reaching along the Mediterranean for one hundred and fifty miles on one side, and along the Arabian desert on the other. It is hardly over sixty miles across. It is topographically of the most diversified character. It has some beautiful valleys and purling streams; it has mountains, too, lofty and desolate, and its principal lakes are almost a thousand feet below the level of the sea. The whole land is cut in two lengthwise by the Jordan river, the most peculiar, the most rapid, and the most historic river on the face of the earth. We are now in Galilee. In the midst of the wonderful beauty of the scene at Nazareth any one would be attracted by the appearance of a youth there who is just out of school. This Nazareth, though not His birthplace, is His home; here all His brothers and sisters and cousins live. In a village close by His mother Mary was born. The boy's own birth was at a country inn up near Jerusalem, at a time when His parents had gone there to pay taxes, and be counted as citizens of the Roman empire. The lovely little village where this youth is, happy among His kith and kin, is not unlike many an Oriental village of to-day. Strange little stone-paved streets run into the open square where the fountain of the village is. And this is the fountain where, on summer evenings, the village girls, among them the beautiful Mary herself, came for water. The little square, and the streets, and possibly some of the old houses, and the ruins of the fountain are there yet, in this 1912, and clustering vines and roses are still there--and so too are the clear skies, the starlit nights, the purple hills, and the dark-eyed women, just as in the long ago. CHAPTER II A Boy of Babylon. The Founder of Judaism. Philo, the Philosopher. An out-door Man. The Poet-Carpenter. Staying in the Desert. The Silence of History. Where was Jesus in these silent years? Let us go back to that long ago for a little while. At the foot of one of the little streets, close by the square and the fountain, stands a simple shop for carpenters. At the door, ax and saw in hand, we see again that Galilean youth. He is a carpenter's apprentice now, and is working with Joseph, His father. He is tall and beautiful, His eyes are blue, and very mild--His hair is yellow. He is wearing the working-man's costume common to Galileans of His age. He is perhaps twenty--handsome in countenance, and kindly beyond expression. He has long since finished with the little village school, where the tasks consisted only in chanting verses from the Scriptures with the other boys and girls of the village. But as He was apt, He has learned the Scriptures well. He knows them by heart almost; and later at the synagogue He heard the priests read from the Great Hillel, the Babylonian, who is writing and saying things about life, religion, and the Scriptures that are shaking the religious world. Philo, also, He almost knows by heart. He also knows the Psalms of David, the Proverbs of Solomon, as well as the aphorisms and maxims, the dreams and stories of great men who were writing in Palestine just before He was born. It was a day of maxims in literature. Men wrote short, strong, simple sentences, full of thought. Their sayings were easy to remember. Indeed, even to-day, there is no book so easy to commit to memory as the Bible. The young carpenter stored them all in a retentive mind. Some day He would have use for them. At times the youth stops His work and talks with His father Joseph about the magnificent temple that Herod is just completing up there at Jerusalem. He has seen it often as a boy, and He tells of the strange questions the priests there once asked Him, and how easily He answered every one. He is talking in the peculiar Arimean dialect, a speech ridiculed in great Jerusalem, as everywhere else, outside His Galilee. Occasionally, too, He is relating to His father the beautiful aphorisms from the gentle Hillel. And who is this wonderful Hillel of whom Testament writers and teachers say almost nothing at all? Few of the young ever heard of him. We must ask, for some have even called him another Jesus, he was so good and great. He was a very princely Jew, this Hillel, this lover of mankind, this gentle and humane reformer, whose life benefited the whole age in which he lived. As a poor Babylonian youth, he went over to Jerusalem to study under the great rabbis of the church. He soon became very distinguished, and through him Jewish life and religion were reformed. He is often called the founder of Judaism as taught in the Talmud. Herod made him president of the great Sanhedrin, with the title of prince, and the honor descended in his family. His aphorisms, his maxims, his wise sayings were known to every Jew in Palestine, and affected all Jewish life. One of his sayings was: "Do not unto others what thou wouldst not have done unto thyself. This is the whole law; the rest go and finish." Another: "Do not believe in thyself till the day of thy death." Again: "If I do not care for my soul, who will do it for me?" Still one: "Say not I will repent at leisure. Leisure may never come." And another: "Whosoever is ambitious of aggrandizing his name will destroy it." Beyond a doubt, many of the sayings of this great and gentle teacher were as familiar to the young carpenter working at His bench in little Nazareth as the Galilean's own sayings are to the youth of to-day. Hillel was thirty years older than Christ, and survived Him ten years. Many of the heart-sayings of the Master can be traced to Hillel, to Philo, the Egyptian, or to Moses. Let us not forget that He was human--divinely so--and that His mind, like that of any other human being, was susceptible to the teachings, the sayings, the surroundings that were nearest. He not only absorbed all, He refined all. Philo was another of the great philosophers whose works helped to influence the young Galilean. He, though a Jew, lived all his life in Egypt. There he wrote maxims worthy of the Master himself. He was twenty years older than the Galilean. He had studied Plato, and spent his life in trying to harmonize religious Greek thought with the thoughts of Moses, the lawgiver of the Jews. We will hear little in our Testament writers of these two wise men, who must have had a tremendous influence on the youth at Nazareth. Indeed, as already said, the Testament anyway tells us not much of the life at Galilee, or elsewhere. The larger part of the Testament story relates to the deeds of the passion week, or the last days of the Master's life. One-third of the book is taken up with that single week. It has been guessed that had the details of the Galilean's whole life been written out fully, it would have made a book eighty times as big as our Bible. The things that the Galileans heard in the village synagogue, the things that He read in the old Scriptures, all, all that found its way to the village from Hillel, from Philo, and other men renowned then, and forgotten now, were reflected in Him. More, He beautified all, simplified all, glorified all. Most of all, however, His divine instinct enlarged itself from scenes in nature. The young carpenter was a poet. No beauty of the fields, the hills, the brooks, the lovely lake escaped His eye, or failed to feed His soul. He was an outdoor man. Scarcely one of His miracles later, but would be performed out of doors. The wedding at Cana was probably on the green lawn of a peasant's home. The stilling of the tempest, the feeding of the five thousand, the transfiguration, the numberless wonders and cures in all the Galilean villages were nearly always performed out of doors. Half His parables have to do with things out of doors. To Him God was in everything--the rocks, the trees, the blue sky of Galilee, the very desolation of the Dead sea inspired Him. How often the Testament tells of His flying away from crowds to be alone with nature. Is it not altogether possible, almost certain, that these long absences were in the wilderness of the desert? His long stay in solitary places, later, communing with God at first hand, may they not account for so much of the silence of history as to much of His life? It need not seem strange to us at all. In the old Jewish days half a lifetime of contemplation in the solitude of the desert was regarded by every one a first step to leadership. Whoever sought a high religious calling, or sought to be a founder of a new belief, went through this solitary preparation in the desert. Even Moses did it, and spent forty years as a shepherd on the plains. John did it, Jerome did it, Mahomet did it. Why not Jesus? Even great teachers of modern times locked themselves up in the desert of cloister cells for years. Savonarola did it--Martin Luther did it--Assisi did it--so did a thousand other luminaries of the religious world. Certainly most of the Galilean's life is a blank to human history, otherwise not explained. Why should He not have been absent in some desert solitude, some wilderness, preparing for immortal deeds, immortal words? There is absolutely no other explanation for these silent years. How little the youth at this moment is dreaming of all that future as He works by His father's side, or goes about the village encouraging and helping by His gentle smile! He is healing by His strong faith and His pure soul. The poor love Him, not yet knowing who He is. He himself does not know. We even wonder if He knows how it is that He helps so many. He is no magician, no doer of wonders just to make a show. Perhaps He only knows as yet that goodness and kindness and love and extreme faith can do everything. Anyway He is the loved of every one. How easy it all is to be loved. One can be just a carpenter, and yet by love do everything. Of all things He is a helper of the poor, the unfortunate. Sometimes the very ignorant adopt the notion that salvation is for the poor only. They, too, misunderstand and exaggerate. A little later a sect of the overzealous poor build a church on the theory that the poor only, go to Heaven. They call themselves "Ebionites," or "The Poor." Of course, these sects in a few years ended in religious suicide. They had forgotten that the Galilean could be no respecter of class or persons. To-morrow this young carpenter, this village doctor, will again disappear in the wilderness of the desert; who knows how long? Old church writings say that He was seven years in the desert of Egypt as a child. He is used to solitude. Legends tell, too, that He studied law in these days--by law they meant the books of Moses and the prophets. Likely enough He took the parchment rolls with Him, and in the long days there in the desert learned them all by heart. Later He will tell all the people to go and read the same great Scriptures. What His life may have been at such times in the desert we can more than guess. It was a meditation, an inspiration. It is told of John the Baptist, whose coming birth like that of Christ was announced by an angel, that he also spent years as a hermit of the desert, and in its solitude learned a language and received a revelation not vouchsafed to ordinary man. What then must the great soul of the Galilean not have absorbed there alone with the voice of the great creation speaking to Him all the day--the night there with the "floor of Heaven inlaid with patines of bright gold, and the music of the spheres sounding in his ears forever." His was a soul to enjoy and to be inspired with such a scene. Little as the sacred writings tell of Him, silent as history is in the Galilean days, we have other glimpses of the times, and of what He was doing, by reading the old books, now called Apocryphal, that were discarded from our present Testament in the fourth century. Why all of them were discarded, is hard to imagine; for, though buried in an ocean of nonsense and legend, there was still at the bottom of them a grain of pure gold. Besides, for over three centuries these discarded books were regarded as part of the sacred writings. CHAPTER III Christ still a Jew. Is the Child's escape at Bethlehem still a secret? Performing wonders. A strange age. Rome still in the thrall of Heathendom. Augustus dead. Tiberius the Awful. Palestine itself half Heathen. A Religious Enthusiast. Jesus is ceasing to be a Jew. A church tyranny. Subjects of Caesar. Human suffering counted for nothing with the Romans. The Jews are longing for the New Time when God might come and rule the world in Pity. An age of Superstitions and Magic. Laws of Science unknown. Nobody even knew that the world was round. But let us go back there to Galilee and stay yet a while with the village carpenter. The youth is older now. Perhaps He is going back and forth between Galilee and the solitude of the wilderness. This so-called "wilderness" is nothing more than the secret hills beyond the Jordan, or the mysterious edge of the near-by desert coming up to them like a speechless sea. At this moment He is again in Nazareth, and the wondering villagers again see Him at His daily toil. He is still learning by rote the striking maxims and proverbs of the Jewish masters. He is yet a Jew. Like all Israel He is counting on the completion of prophecy; a new world is sure to come soon--and with it a king from Heaven. It will be a glorious thing, that new world, that great king. The villagers familiarly call Him Jesus--but they know nothing of the beautiful tradition of His birth--how an angel had announced it to Mary, and how His name was fixed in Heaven. No--Mary had meditated much on the angel's visit and on what the angel had said to her, but steadily she had kept the great secret in her own heart. She had not even whispered to the villagers about the shepherds and the star at Bethlehem, nor the sudden flight of herself and the child to far-off Egypt. Why, her secrecy is just now hard to guess. Is it possible that Herod or his successor, who would have slain the child, is still watching for Him--not knowing even of the return from Egypt years ago? Even now one indiscreet word from her might cause His death. We wonder if now, on this day, there in His father's workshop, the youth dreams that some day He is to be a king, and that of his kingdom there will be no end? I think not. He is not publicly preaching now. That, Luke says, will come much later. But what delightful whisperings go about Galilee concerning Him already. Possibly these beautiful heart-stories about Himself were as familiar to the young carpenter then as they now are to every reader of the sacred book. He may have known of them, thought of them, but He, too, kept them largely to Himself. It was an age of prophecies, of dreams, of visions, of fables, and of superstitious tales. Perhaps He was waiting to see if the angel's words to Mary were to be fulfilled. Two thousand years have not dimmed the beauty of the wondrous tale told of Mary and the child. If parts of it were only the longings of a few persons' imaginations, we may never clearly know, nor is it of the least importance that we should know. The happenings at the birth of the world's great ones have little to do with the grandeur of their lives. Yes, the young carpenter, with the tender eyes and the radiant face, may have known of some of these wonderful sayings about Himself. Mary must have told Him some of them; and Joseph working at His side must have told Him how, on His account, the little children had been murdered at Bethlehem, and how narrow His own escape had been when he and Mary and the child had hurried away to Egypt. We can imagine the wonderful incidents told by Joseph of that strange flight into a foreign country. Our Testament barely mentions it. His birth is almost the only bit of history the Testament gives us of almost twenty-five years of the Galilean's life. They went to Egypt to escape the wrath of the tyrant Herod. Old writings tell us of two, even seven, years in Egypt, and of child-miracles in that far-away land. Of all this our accepted Testament tells us nothing. Hearing that the tyrant was long dead, Joseph and Mary and the child secretly returned to the old home in Galilee. Are they living there in secret yet--and is the new king at Jerusalem wondering if they are alive--and does he too want the child's blood in case He was not killed that night at Bethlehem, and does he wonder what became of the wise men of the east who saw the child, but dared not go back to tell it? Does he wonder if they are somewhere in hiding yet? Does he dream that this youth in Galilee is possibly the child the shepherds told of that wonderful night? Just now we still see Him standing by the little carpenter shop, ax in hand, possibly thinking of what His father has told Him of His youth; or of what Mary hinted to Him of the bright Angel of the Annunciation? Who knows? We only guess at the secret, for history, sacred and profane, has left it all a blank. We only know that it was a feeling of the whole Jewish race that an aspirant to leadership must, first of all, retire to the desert and live for years in solitude, just as Elias had done. It has been said that a retreat to the desert was the condition of and the prelude to high destinies. The Galilean knew all about these men, from Moses and Elias down to John, who found their inspiration on the desert, or in secret places. If He was not much in the desert in these unknown years, where then was He, that no one tells of Him? Was there indeed nothing for Matthew, nor Mark, nor Luke, nor John, nor Josephus, nor anybody else to write about Him? Was it all a blank these long years? If secrecy from Herod, or from his successor Archelaus, was needed--that would account for everything, even for the whole world's silence. This retreat for meditation would not hinder that at far intervals He return a little to His home in Galilee, where we see Him now with that ineffable smile of kindness on His face and tenderness shining in His eyes. The peasants passing by are uplifted, moved by His tender compassionate look. They wonder why. They wonder too where He has been so long, and before they are done wondering He is gone. Sometimes He disappears so suddenly--it was just as if a spirit had come and gone. Is He again in His hermit cave now beyond the Jordan? Sometimes when there at home, as now, He has quietly taught the villagers of truth; He has blessed the poor; He has healed the sick; He has performed wonders, and they know not how it is done. Some day He will tell them all. It is a strange age He has been living in. Let us look at it for a little while. This Palestine boy had been just fourteen years old when the news came that the great Augustus at Rome was dead, and that the awful and licentious emperor Tiberius was governing the Roman empire. Just now the Galilean is twenty-six, and other news comes--that Tiberius has gone to the heavenly little island of Capri in the Mediterranean sea, and is there holding a court that shall shock the world. No wonder the youth begins to think, with all His people, that God must soon send somebody to put an end to the wickedness of kings. Antipater, the idle and licentious favorite at Rome, still rules over little Galilee as governor, or king. The Roman empire is still in the thrall of perfect heathendom. There are half as many Gentiles as Jews in Palestine itself. All over the land beautiful monuments are erected by Rome to the heathen gods. The young Nazarene can walk across the hills to Sidon by the sea any day and hear the people chanting hymns to Jupiter and Apollo. As for Himself, He is still a Jew, like most of His countrymen; only now, like Philo and like Hillel, and like John and others, He is more than a Jew; He is passing out of the old doctrines of the Jewish church into the broad daylight of truth. He will yet help to do away with the Mosaic law. In a private way, yet unheard of outside of little Galilee, He himself is teaching that God is a spirit, and must be worshiped in spirit and not in form, and not in heathen idols, nor in the way they are doing it at Jerusalem. God had already become tired of the burnt offering of rams and of the blood of beasts. Isaiah had told them that, long ago. This Galilean will go on repeating it so long as He shall live. Like the great Hillel, He would teach common justice to man--love for one another--charity to all. This was to be the great commandment. We are not sure, but in a vague way this young Galilean already feels the mantle of a prophet falling about Him. He is saying nothing exactly new to His Galilean neighbors--but He is saying it in a new and gracious way, and they listen to Him as He converses in the shop, or on the street. He sees and feels God in the beautiful nature all about Him there in Galilee, yet more He feels God in himself. Man holds in himself tremendous hidden powers. Science is rapidly unveiling them. They were being unveiled to a degree by the Greeks even in the time of this young carpenter; but the Jewish people neither believed in nor heeded a school that gave an explanation of things marvelous. They were set in their superstition. No book that described certain fixed laws of nature was, for one moment, to take the place of Moses and the prophets. Even the Galilean himself is clinging to these old Bible poems. It is the wrong interpretation of them, possibly, by Himself sometimes, that is driving Him to a religious rebellion. The great church doctors might not like it, were they to hear it--this young carpenter with the soft words, and the radiance in His face, slipping back and forth from Galilee to the desert and from the desert to Galilee, proselyting the peasants, and telling them that God is not to be worshiped in the semi-heathen manner in which they are doing it at Jerusalem. Yet, no matter. What care the great religious doctors at the Sacred City? Who ever heard of this Galilean carpenter anyway, or of His reforms? Some day, and soon, they will hear of Him. They have already heard of John, but they are about to settle the score with John. His extremeness and his violence of speech have attracted the attention of the king of Galilee, and soon news will come that John's head on a platter has paid for the lascivious dancing of a girl at court. Some old writers say it was the king's own daughter who did the dancing that night in Antipater's palace by the Dead sea. Anyway, the voice of him who called in the wilderness, is soon to be stilled forever. No, the carpenter's name has not yet reached outside His Galilee. Aside from an occasional journey to Jerusalem when He was younger and His foot tramps to the solitude by the desert, there is little to tell that He has been outside the little province where He was born. His life in His home village, aside from His carpenter work, is that of a religious enthusiast. Some will call Him even a visionary. He has heard so much of a coming king and an overturning of everything in the world that He himself almost begins to look for something extraordinary. Why not? He is yet a Jew, and the teaching of the rabbis and of the Old Scriptures has been the coming of some kind of a king--a great Messiah, who, from out little Palestine, shall rule the world in an age of gold. The age, perhaps, is taking something out of the Bible that is not in it. Our own age has done that many times. Is it doing it to-day? Never in this world did imagination reach so high a pitch as it did among the Jews in that wonderful time. Nothing was talked of or thought of, but the coming golden age and the new king, riding in a chariot of the clouds. It was not only a very expectant, superstitious age, it had been a troubled one. The world had been full of disorder, conflict. Everywhere had been war and tyranny. Especially, the whole Jewish race, the especial people of God, had known too often only of tyranny and sorrow. Even their own church, and church was the government with them, had drifted into a religious tyranny--the worst tyranny of all. It was, too, hemmed in by the awfullest form and ceremony. No one in this twentieth century who is not familiar with the Jewish Talmud and the earlier writings, can have the remotest conception of the thousand formalities, ceremonies, mummeries even, imposed upon the people of the church in the olden days. Later, ten volumes of the Talmud will be required to explain, to interpret, establish, and to write down the manner in which the commonest things of life might be done. The great Sanhedrin, or Supreme Court and Senate of the Jews at Jerusalem, together with the scribes and priests about the temple, seemed banded together to make religion an awful, unbearable burden, and life a farce. Though all Palestine was a Roman province the Romans interfered but little with this religious despotism. The Romans had enough wrongs of their own to inflict upon the people. The whole race of Jews in their home government had their own laws, their own Jewish customs, habits, and religion. The Romans simply made them subjects of Cæsar, and they rendered unto Cæsar only that which was Cæsar's, as this youth of Galilee, later, would suggest their doing. The empire collected taxes, very heavy ones, from the people, and occasionally forced them into its armies. The Roman eagles and the Roman soldiers were familiar sights in every town and village of Palestine. The Romans usually had enough to do at home to disincline them from bothering themselves too much with the religion of the Jews. Wars they had had everywhere. But just now, at the time of the Master's coming, there was a sort of peace in the world--a truce for breath, as it were. That is to say, the Roman empire that has its foot on almost the whole earth is resting a little. Rome's untold horrors, wars, corruptions, its licentiousness, its inhumanity to man, its blood and outrages have stopped their course at the eternal city for a little while. It is almost out of victims. Violence has ceased, only because violence has done its work. The social conditions at Rome just before Augustus came to the throne were too terrible to be believed. That some of this outrage and terror had spread into the provinces of Palestine through governors and petty kings, appointed by, and tools of Rome, is only too well known. Herod himself was bloody enough to have served as an example for the worst the Roman empire, even, could endure. In Palestine, however, the great Jewish church served somewhat as a little hindering-wall to the element that had been almost crushing decent humanity out of the world. All the states, like Palestine, bordering on the Mediterranean, says a distinguished historian, simply looked at one another--partakers of a common misfortune. They were tranquil, but it was the silence of despair. Man was not being considered as an individual by the Romans any more; he was only a "thing." Human suffering in the provinces counted for nothing, if only Rome had some political gain. If Palestine, or any other province, had some advantage by the presence of Roman legions, it was purely incidental, and scarcely intended. At this very moment Palestine is groaning under awful taxes paid to Rome, one-third of all produced, the writers say. No wonder the Jews were longing for the new time, the great time, the king, the Old Scriptures had told about. They are so afflicted, so depressed. The government of man had been a failure with them. Would not the day soon be at hand when God himself, through some vicegerent, would come to the world and rule in pity? Then the wicked would no longer thrive, the just would live in delight, the very face of the world would be changed, all would be transformed into love and beauty, and Palestine would be the heart of the new world, and Jerusalem the capital of a perfected humanity. The Scriptures had said it. The prophets had said it. Nursing these lovely and lofty expectations the Jews patiently waited, bearing with many wrongs. All classes shared alike in the great delusion, rich and poor, high and low, priest and peasant. That a mighty king on his chariot was coming in the clouds was the common belief. The too literal reading of the old-time prophets had led a whole race into a futile misconception. The world was _not_ coming to an end at all. The Jews were a people easily mis-led. Their confidence in the supernatural was overwhelming. It was a quality inherited from their pagan ancestors. Their very neighbors were heathen and worshiped mystical gods. Tens of thousands, mostly foreigners, had set up heathen temples and consulted heathen oracles right there in Galilee. Every time the young carpenter went to Jerusalem His eyes fell on some vast edifice dedicated to Jove or Juno, and strange gods were worshiped almost in the shadow of the great temple. This was not all. The very books read by the Jewish priests in the synagogue, or village churches, were filled with superstitious tales, with dreams and visions. In these books the people were told of times when angels walked upon the earth--they would walk again was the belief. The outcome of their wonderful superstitions, teachings, and their surroundings was an abject belief in marvels and impossibilities. If the most cultured and thinking persons lost their confidence in the marvelous, they kept it quiet. It was, besides, a day of jugglers, sleight of hand performers, and magicians. The peasants, mostly half-educated, could believe in anything. There was no knowledge of science available to show them the utter falsehood of things their eyes seemed to behold. The commonest laws of nature were not understood. The priests themselves did not know that the world was round. The common people were sufficiently credulous to accept the most astounding things. In short, the astounding things were to them the natural things, the expected. No wonder they misunderstood the old prophets of the Bible, and the signs of the times. No wonder they were believing and alarmed when John, hurrying from the wilderness, shouted to them to be ready, to hurry to the Jordan river, confess, and be baptized. CHAPTER IV The Fairy Prince. His Home is everywhere. John the Baptist is preaching down by Jericho. The young Jesus hears of him and goes a hundred miles on foot to see him. A stranger steps down to the River to be baptized. Look quick, it is the Lamb of God! John is put to death in a palace by the Dead Sea. A Woman's Revenge. The young carpenter in his pretty Galilean village was, in a way, a witness of these strange things. He heard in the synagogue the report that the world was coming to an end. He, too, had read the awful forebodings in the Old Scriptures. He may, too, have believed in the coming disaster, but it is not likely. Vaguely, He interpreted the Old Bible to mean something else. Between its lines He saw the shadow coming of a spiritual, not an earthly king. Who that king should be, He never dreamed. The voice of John He only heard in the distance--far down by Jericho, and amidst the desolation of the Dead Sea. The cry of the Baptist scarcely reached to remote little Galilee. He had no dreams, this Galilean youth, no visions to tell Him of a glory coming to Himself. It is to be remarked even that visions and dreams never came to Him at all as they seem to have come to Daniel, to Buddha, to Confucius and to Mahomet. Neither by vision nor voice was He bidden to go to some great work. He was not clothed with infinite power at the time we are speaking of; He was simply a sweet and beautiful Galilean youth, with the grace of God upon Him. In all Palestine now people were not agreed as to what the new kingdom that was coming to the world would be. Some looked for the earth suddenly to be crashed to pieces. Some looked simply for a renewal of the earth. Some said the righteous dead would come out of their graves and help govern. Some said all nature would be changed, and a wondrous king would come straight from Heaven. When the simple folks of Galilee talked to the Carpenter about it, He told them they were all mistaken. It was the "_Kingdom of Heaven_" that was coming, he said--a revolution in human hearts, when mankind would be made better, and every one would do as he would be done by. It is doubtful if they understood Him. That, they felt, was not what the Scriptures had said; and doubtless many began to think the wonderful teacher wandering in His mind. Yet many believed on Him. For a little while now He goes about His beautiful Galilee like a fairy prince, despite poverty and despite foes. He is so gentle, so kindly, so loving to the poor! He is the kind physician, the balm in Gilead. For a while He is met with hosannas; He has no riches, but every peasant's house is His welcome home. That transcendent smile, that low sweet voice, is His password to believing hearts. He must be the coming king, they think; still, they do not understand. He is so simple, so all-love. He tells them that they themselves are the kingdom; and again they do not understand. "Surely Thou art the Son of God," they cry, and the ground He walks on is sacred. Some call Him the "Son of God." Yet not _once_ did He call himself the "Son of God." It was the enthusiasts who called Him that. Often He referred to himself as the "Son of Man"; but, in his Syriac dialect, the word signified only man. After all it was only the village carpenter's son who was saying all these mysterious things! In the days we are describing at Galilee just now, John the Baptist is still crying to the people of Jerusalem, and along the Jordan, to hurry to the river, to repent, and to be baptized. He has a school down there, and disciples of his own. They are greater extremists in their teaching than the quiet and lovable Galilean, who, till now, is hardly a public teacher at all. John is not only prophesying a speedy coming of a new king to the world, a Messiah, he is threatening an early destruction of almost everything, save the lives of the baptized and the repentant. He has alarmed all Palestine. A great moral and social earthquake is taking place. Nor is he backward about still condemning the king himself for his unlawful marriage. The court is becoming disturbed, and the doors of Machero prison in a little while will open to the great prophet and preacher. The alarm among the people everywhere continues very great. Thousands confess their sins, enter the sacred river, are baptized, and now await the coming of the end of the world. The young carpenter is just now in Galilee, perhaps for a little while only, back again from a long absence of solitude in the desert. Louder and louder, nearer and nearer, comes to the youth at Galilee that cry of John. Full of interest to see and hear the great reformer, He, and a few of His friends, start for the Jordan river. It is nearly a hundred miles away, to where John is, and they go on foot. Let us also go to the Jordan for a little while. We turn our steps to Bethabara--a little village up the river from the Dead sea. We see a great crowd of excited people there. John himself is there. He is still telling them of the coming king, the Messiah of the world. But he does not dream from whence that king is to come--from earth, or from Heaven. Shortly something tells John that a great person, unknown to him, is there in the crowd, and will ask to be baptized. John wonders who it can be. In a little while a stranger steps down to the river bank--goes to the water's edge and asks to be baptized. John does not know Him at first; but shortly a spirit voice whispers to him, "It is the man from Galilee." It is the Lord. Watch--and as He comes out of the river you will see the sign. The Holy Spirit in the form of a dove will rest upon Him! Overawed by the tremendous announcement, John at first feared to baptize. "Yes," said the Galilean, "let it be so," and it was done. As the stranger came up out of the water, John saw the dove, and, to the amazement of all, the Heavens opened, and a voice called, "This is my beloved son." The astonishment of the multitude can never be imagined. After two thousand years, travelers cross the ocean simply to go and stand a moment in holy reverence at the spot where believers say God first spoke to Christ on earth. John at once told some of his disciples to look--quick--"It is the Lamb of God." Two of these men followed the mysterious stranger, saying, "Master, where dwellest Thou?" He answered, "Come and see," and he took them with him for a day to His temporary lodging place in the village. One of them was Andrew, who breathlessly hurried to his brother Simon, and told him the great news. "We have found the Christ, Him of whom Moses wrote." Other friends quickly gathered in, and as one of them named Nathaniel approached, the Galilean, without knowing who it was, called him by his right name. A wonder had been performed. It was enough. "Thou art the Son of God," cried Nathaniel, and they would have worshiped Him then and there. "Thou shalt see yet greater things than these," said the Christ, for it was indeed He, and in a little time He slipped away to the desert as He had so often done before. We will not follow Him there, though tradition tells strange and unexplainable things as to how Satan tried to tempt Him, and how the temptation was resisted by the Galilean, though the nations of the world were offered Him. After forty days He returned and went to His dear, sweet Galilee. We shall go along, for there are troublous times by Jerusalem and in Judea. In a little while, too, the king of Galilee has thrown John into a prison that belongs to his dominions down near the Dead Sea. John's religious, revolutionary, and semi-political preaching is at last too much for Herod Antipas. Possibly, it was while he was yet in the desert that the Master heard of the imprisonment of the prophet. Very shortly a strange message came from John to the Man of Galilee. John has heard anew of the Master's triumphs, and two friends are sent to Him to ask if He is indeed the Christ--"or, do we look for another?" More proof, it seems, was wanted. John had seen the dove that day at the river, but John had never seen a miracle; and in that day wonders and miracles were the only accepted proof. The answer comes back to the prison by the Dead Sea,--"Go and tell John the things which you do see and hear; tell him how the blind are made to see, the deaf to hear, the lame to walk, even the dead raised to life, and the gospel preached to the poor." If John got the answer we do not know. It would be sad to reflect that John died without knowing that this young carpenter, whom he baptized that day in the Jordan, was the Messiah he had prophesied. When the two messengers left, it was then the Galilean turned to the listening crowd and said, "Among them that are born of women, there has not risen a greater than John the Baptist." How believing hearts must have swelled when He added, "He who is least in the kingdom of Heaven is greater than John." The promise rings on these two thousand years, and will ring on forever. Not long has the Galilean been in His home when news comes of the awful tragedy back there by the Dead Sea where John is. On the high and desolate rocks close to the Dead Sea there is a prison and a palace. Possibly there is not another citadel in the world built amidst such colossal, such difficult scenery. Dark, desolate mountains are all about it. It is reached through almost inaccessible valleys. Near it the angry Jordan, with a roar, tumbles into the Dead Sea and dies forever. The Dead Sea itself sleeps a thousand feet below--and beyond the hills, lies the burning desert. Altogether it is one of the most God-forsaken places in the world. Yet in the midst of this desolation an old king built the mighty fortress of "Machero." It was destroyed upon a time, and now Herod Antipas, the Galilean king, has restored it in tenfold splendor. In the center of it, and on its highest crest, he has built a gorgeous palace of Oriental beauty. Far down under the marble floors of the palace is a prison. Let us for a moment look down that prison corridor. In the farthest cell there is a familiar face. It is the face of John--John, who, only the other day we saw baptizing the Lord in the river Jordan. He, to whom thousands flocked to be baptized and saved from the coming destruction, is himself in a felon's cell. One wonders at the daring of it. There are two reasons for it. One--he had railed too often against the people in power, and the hypocrisy of the times. In his zeal for truth, in his fearful warnings, in his tremendous language, it was honestly feared he might create a national disturbance. The poor, the uneducated, the superstitious, were massing themselves around him as if he were a god. King Antipas had gone to Rome upon a time, and, being enamored with his brother Philip's wife, ran away with her to Galilee. Her name was Herodias. John, bold in this as in all things, so old writers say, told the adulterous couple what he thought of them. He even told the king that he had poisoned his brother to get his widow. The king personally had liked John, and often listened to him gladly. He knew, too, that John was adored by the people, whose anger _he_ had reason to fear. But Queen Herodias had other thoughts. John's accusations had insulted her. She longed for some fierce revenge. The time has come. It is the birthday of the king, and, with Herodias, and an hundred courtiers, captains and generals, he has come to this grand palace and citadel of the mountains to celebrate it in an Oriental fashion. It is midnight in the palace, but the gorgeous chambers are ablaze with light. Music and laughter resound from the open windows, for it is a sultry night of June. Outside the castle, it is inky darkness. The mountains are tenfold desolate in their silence to-night--far below the Dead Sea sleeps in fearful midnight. East of the sea, and beyond the hills, is the scorched and sandy desert. It too sleeps--and is silent. Here and there a flash of far lightning crosses the horizon, betokening a desert storm. All is fearfully lonesome out there in the midnight of the mountains. How different all within! The gay scene grows gayer still--the bright lights grow brighter--the banqueters are glad with wine--a new flush is on every cheek, joy and revelry fill the whole palace. There seems nothing to add to the appetite of pleasure. But wait--there is a dance--a beautiful young girl half-clad flies into the room; the music changes--and in a moment she is executing a sensuous dance of the Orientals. She is the daughter of the queen, and she is very beautiful. That she is not a professional dancer--just a beautiful girl--adds to the sensuous delight. Quickly the dance is done--and amidst the applause of all the court, and with flushed face, she passes before the king and bows. Drunken with wine and the banquet, the king seizes her hand and offers to reward her with whatever she may wish--if need be, with half his kingdom. "What shall I ask of him?" she whispers to her mother. Herodias' chance had come. Revenge is sweet to evil people. In a moment she thinks of John. He is down there in the prison right below the banquet hall. He has heard all the night's revelry--he has seen from his cell window the dancing lights reflected against the gray, dark rocks outside. Yes, revenge is sweet. "Salome, daughter, tell him to kill John the Baptist for you--to bring his head up here on a platter." Heavens! was ever such a wish before! There is a little pause. Again the fair girl is before the king. She has said it. Unwillingly--but because of his word, and because of his nobles present--he grants the request. There is a low, sad whisper from the king to a soldier present, and in a few moments the cell door in the prison below opens. Murder is nothing to an Oriental king. The deed is done--and on a golden charger the bleeding head of one whom Jesus called the greatest human being in the world is carried into the room. Herodias has had her revenge. The curtain goes down on one of the awfullest scenes in human history. CHAPTER V An Oriental Wedding, and the first miracle. Jairus. "Little Maid, Arise." The Light of the World. The Poet of the Lord. Do we know what a Miracle is? The blood of John probably strengthened the Master's spirit, for His immortal deeds now all at once became open and public. The day of his "miracles" had come. Very soon now He was asked to a little wedding at the village of Cana. His mother also was there, and some of His brothers and sisters, and His disciples. It was to be a more joyful event than the awful thing He had heard of in the hills by the Dead Sea. The most famous marriage in all history was being celebrated. The Master's first miracle is to be witnessed. It is twilight of a delicious summer evening in Galilee. As was the custom among the Orientals, the bride has been carried in state to the groom's home. It is a bright and hilarious affair. All the youths in the village are on horseback riding in the gay procession. There is music of drums and flutes, and song, and all the little street is ablaze with torches. In front of all, the bridesmaids come, laughing, and singing, and carrying flaming lamps. The bride, garlanded with roses, and covered with flowing veil that envelops her from head to foot, blushes at her own loveliness. Who that happy girl might be whose marriage story was to live a thousand years we will never know. Could she, as in a dream, have read the future, how extreme her happiness would have been. After two thousand years how glad we would be only to know her happy name. It is after dark; the stars are out on blue Galilee now. The scene has changed. The invited guests are now in the home of the happy groom. The governor of the feast, or the master of toasts, sits at the head of the banquet table. At a modest place near the center of the table sits the Nazarene carpenter. He is loved in Cana, as everywhere in Galilee, for His gentle kindness to the poor. The story of what happened to this carpenter at the Jordan river has not reached Galilee--the greatness of the guest at their side is as yet unknown. But there is one present who knows mighty things. For thirty years Mary, the mother, has kept the secret told her by the Angel of the Annunciation. It is ten o'clock--the feast is almost over--the singing, the dancing, and the joyousness go on. Suddenly the girls waiting on the banqueters see the wine is done. What shall they do? One of them by accident, perhaps, mentions it to Mary. Suddenly her mind is filled with an ambitious, a glorious, thought. She glances toward the middle of the table where sits her son. The secret of thirty years is burning in her heart. As she, too, is waiting on the table, she walks to where her son is sitting and softly, confidently whispers, "They have no wine." His time has come. In a few words He tells her to have the girls fill all the six water jars close by with water--and Mary bids them do as He has said. "Then," said the Master, "bear it to the governor of the feast." And when the man at the head of the table tasted it, behold the water had been turned to wine. It was the first miracle of the Master's life. Now He was consecrated indeed. His disciples saw what He had done, and for the first time fully believed on Him, and the fame of that great deed spread to many people. He is no longer the simple village carpenter, He is now the Christ, and in a few days around and about the beautiful blue lake of Galilee, close by, He will be carrying the glad tidings to all the world. It was soon after one of these meetings by the waters of Galilee that He performed another of the most beautiful and striking miracles of His life. Jairus, a rich man and a high elder in the Jewish church, came to Him at a feast given by Matthew and begged Him to come and heal his little daughter who was sick. If only He will lay His hands on her, she will be well. There was a little delay, for people crowded all about the Master as He started on the roadside, to hear him talk, and praying to be healed. One poor sick woman secretly touched just the hem of His garment, her mighty faith telling her that even this little act could make her whole. Jesus turned to her, and simply said, "Daughter, go; thy faith hath saved thee." The delay is awful for the agonized father, who knows not one moment is to be lost. Suddenly comes a messenger flying to him to tell him it is already too late--don't worry the Master--the little girl is dead. Instantly Jesus turned to the broken-hearted one and in deep compassion told him to have no fear--only believe. In a few minutes they are at the rabbi's home. The hired mourners and the flute players, as is the custom, are already there. They laughed at Him when He told them the little girl was not dead, but sleeping. Turning the crowd away, He took the little cold hand in His, and sweetly said, "Little maid, arise," and she arose and went about the house rejoicing. The miracle made a tremendous sensation, and multitudes were touched by it. Now His home will be Capernaum, almost at the head of the dear lake. The little carpenter shop in the narrow street at Nazareth is closed forever; Joseph, the father, has passed away, and sleeps with the sons of David; Mary, the mother, lives in the town of Cana, where she first came from; the young carpenter with the soft speech, the tender eyes, the golden hair, and the radiance on His face goes up, and down through Galilee--and they call Him "The Light of the World." Capernaum, with its houses of white marble, reflected in the blue waters of Galilee, was, in the Master's day, like Nazareth, one of the delightful spots of Palestine. All was fresh, green, and restful; and round about the land was called "The Garden of Abundance." And there too is the little plain so filled with green fields and flowers and running brooks that men likened it to "A pure emerald." It was in this little land of loveliness, surrounded by all that was enchanting in nature, that Jesus was to begin His public teaching. No wonder that He found in beautiful nature a thousand indices to the majesty and goodness of the Creator. No wonder that His language was the language of poetry, and His similitudes the reflection of the fields and the flowers. He was in the land of idealism--of fancy--and He himself was the poet of the Lord. "Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow." "If they do these things in the green tree, what shall be done in the dry?" "'Tis your Father's good pleasure to give you the kingdom." "Come unto me, and I will give you rest." "We have piped to you, and ye have not danced." The whole race of men there are idealists. There was not a better place than this Galilee in all the world for Christ to be born in. This is the spot of all the world for a new religion. These Galilean peasants are not reasoners, they are simply believers. They are the children of faith. Sad enough it is that the centuries of time, and the hands of war, changed all the beautiful scene. Even the climate lost its loveliness--there is almost nothing left that is lovely in dear Galilee any more save its enchanting lake. All else is desolate now. The marble houses of Capernaum are now adobe huts, roofed in straw; the fields are bare and yellow; the trees are dead these thousand years. Nothing is green there any more. How changed from the perfect loveliness of that other time, when the Savior of mankind, amid the roses of Palestine, and the lilies by the sea, walked and talked and healed the poor. It was as a healer of the body, not less than as a healer of the soul, that the miraculous carpenter now walked from village to village all over Galilee, followed sometimes by a handful of disciples, sometimes by a multitude of men, women, and children, though occasionally by hooting enemies. But what wonderful things He did--and how many poor He helped! The occasional miracles described in the Testament are probably not even a fraction of what He did. Why, the evangelist John says, he does not suppose the world would hold the books telling of all of them. Of course, this is momentary hyperbole. The people of the East often exaggerate in telling of what they saw. They are the greatest tellers of beautiful stories in the world. But were these things miracles? The world goes on asking this question. Do we know what a miracle is? "A miracle is an impossibility," say the wise men of science. "No law of nature yet was ever set aside." Let us not forget, however, that the Galilean never claimed to set absolute law aside. By supreme faith in the Almighty, in Himself, He helped the law, instead of setting it aside. A people, superstitious and ignorant of every scientific law, wondered to see Him do what He did. At that hour of His consecration, in the Jordan river, Providence gave Him a new birth; and in that birth, a strength to overcome men's minds--a strength to awaken dormant action in their bodies. Even the poor sick man He met at the roadside should be getting well, not dying--Nature intended it so--but pain and misfortune have cost him every resolution. The Christ came by, the sunlight of His face, the blessing of His words fall upon him, and he smiles. "Help yourself," says the Master, "you can do it--only think so. Do you believe me?" "Yes," cries the weary one, "I believe, help thou my unbelief." The Master smiles and takes him by the hand. Instantly the encouraged mind acts on the half withered form. His blood starts, his nerves thrill,--the miracle is done. No, we do not understand--not quite--neither do we understand how a drop of rain revives a blade of grass, nor how a night's dew wakens the roses to an untold beauty. Genius is born. The astronomer opens his book and without an effort understands the stars. The gift of stirring thoughts, of lifting human souls, is born. No being in the world had such anointing from above, such Godsent powers, as He who is just back from the Jordan. He believed in Himself, and that was half the battle--the other half had to be fought by the soul asking aid. One must believe. No faith, no miracle, is a principle. Not once did an unbeliever receive help from the Master. It was impossible. Impossible then as now. The strong faith of two beings is needed to produce a wonder. Only two or three times in His history did Jesus perform a miracle without some human being's faith--and those two or three wonders lack a perfect confirmation. It is not in question here whether God, who made every law of nature, could not suspend them every one if He wanted to. He would not be God, all powerful, if He could not. It is unimportant to us whether the Galilean did wonders by His supreme faith, His control over men's minds (a control given Him there at the Jordan river), or whether His Father in Heaven reached forth a hand each time and helped Him. The peasants of Palestine knew little of any fixed law of nature. They did not ask as to that. Simply the doing of the unusual was enough for them. They demanded wonders--and healing of the sick by a word, or a touch of the hand, was a great wonder,--a miracle. He who could simply influence mind was the Master. The Galilean was born anointed with the power. He knew it--and only asked others to believe. The people of that day asked for wonders. Mere assertions of truth were not enough. "Give us a clap of thunder, or shake the earth, if You would have us believe in You. Suddenly cure these sick, and we will know Your power." He did it, not for a show, but out of pity. And the healing made adorers for the truths He taught them. One thing is sure, He never doubted His own beliefs, His God-given powers. In the solitude of the desert He had reached definite conclusions. All His assertions were positive. If He said things in parables, it was because His hearers had no understanding of plain truth. We talk to children that way when we tell them stories. His wonders, or miracles, were for the same purpose. CHAPTER VI A wandering Teacher. Lives in a borrowed house at Capernaum. The Testament Books, fragments written from memory. The whole Law of Life boiled down to Seven Words. He visits Tyre by the Ocean. Walking on the Sea. A hard saying, and not understood. His friends begin to leave Him. They demand Wonders, Miracles. Raffael's great picture. At this time the wonder-working carpenter had some dear friends in beautiful Capernaum by the lake. There were two fishermen there, brothers, Peter and Andrew. Peter was married and his wife and children joined the two brothers in the earnest welcome to the Master whenever He returned from His journeys among the lake villages. How often He went to Jerusalem never will be surely known. Sometimes He returned to Peter's home right after a long rest in the solitude of the desert, bordering on the east side of the lake. There was a Greek country there called Decapolis. Though also a province of Rome, it was an alliance of ten confederated cities, and all worshiped the heathen gods. Over into this strange confederacy the Master also went sometimes, and the welcome His kindly message met was as warm as in Galilee itself. He also went over to Tyre and Sidon, by the Mediterranean sea, at times, and learned at first hand the workings of heathendom as practiced by a cultured people. On every hilltop, as He went and came, He saw temples to the gods of Greece or Rome. Here, as elsewhere, He was going and coming to preach to the poor. He was the poor man's Christ. He himself often had nothing. It has been said that it was only as a poor wandering teacher, possessed of nothing, not even a place to lay His head, that He went all about Galilee. In Capernaum He lived in a borrowed house, or from the hospitality of His two dear friends. But right now, rich or poor, He is commencing the teachings and the wonders that are to make Him the loved and the hated of the world. To the believing He will show that He is not poor; in fact, that He has a friend ruling in the clouds of Heaven. The disappointed ones, who, mistaking the signs, had looked for a real earthly king, persecuted Him at every roadside. The very orthodox Jews hated Him--called Him a Sabbath-breaker, a glutton among sinners, and a blasphemer of God. They seemed incapable of understanding anything He said. He talked by figures and parables--He told them stories--He talked of His father God--and His sonship--they would not see the spiritual sense in which He said all things. They put false words into His mouth, and then demanded He should prove them true. They listened only to deny, and to defame. Then again they demanded wonders, miracles--more wonders, more miracles. It was their only way of proving things. Had there been no wonders, no miracles, no seeming impossibilities performed, Christ would have had no followers in Palestine. Asserting things was not enough. "Prove to us that you are God by doing wonders." As He never had said that He was God He could not prove it. "I and my father are one," He told them, but only in the sense that every Christian is one with the father. They could not, would not, see it, and at times would have stoned Him from their towns. In His meekness, His gentleness, He bore it all. Sometimes hundreds, thousands, would hear His words, see His miracles, and believe. Other thousands, though seeing, believed not. Some of His own nearest friends, not grasping His meaning, turned their backs and left Him. Do not even to-day many feel that He should have spoken plainer, or, is it that our few fragmentary stories of His life are misconceived, confused, misinterpreted, mistranslated--and in a sense falsified by two thousand years of time and change of methods of human thought? No one knows. The Master did not speak the language of the Bible, not even the language of the Jews. His was a Syrian dialect called Arimean. It was the tongue His mother spoke; the same dialect they talked, and laughed and sang in, that night of the marriage in Cana. Let us not ask too much of the Testament. Time and circumstances do strange things with human thought and speech. Despite mystery, and despite fragments, in the great story, enough is left clear to teach us the spirit of the Golden Rule. Christ said that was enough. The people who wrote the books of the Testament wrote wholly from memory, and some of them were now old men. John was ninety, and was then almost the last man on earth to have seen Jesus alive. Dates, deeds, times, places, words, are sometimes much confused in the Testament. Some things are omitted by one and told by another. Yet the spirit of each Testament book is the same--and all as authentic as writing from memory would permit. The Testament books are fragments only--yet piecing them together what a beautiful whole remains! Sometimes one wonders that just plain uncultured fishermen could write so beautifully. It would require a much larger book than this is intended to be to repeat all the tender stories, the touching words, of the Master that are portrayed by these inspired fishermen by the sea. Even they did not tell all. In every village in Galilee, on all the winding roads, along the dear lake, in every hamlet, synagogue, the feet of the Master went. Every hour saw miracles of healing, and every poor peasant heard words of kindness. What delightful little journeys they were in the beautiful land as the Prince of Peace passed, scattering blessings. To the happy little communities it must have sometimes seemed as if the new kingdom, the promised hour, was there already! Such crowds pressed to Him that time and again He would climb into a little boat on Galilee lake, ask His friends to push it a little from the shore, and there, from this improvised altar on the sea, talk to the crowds on the shore. And what did He say to the people standing on the shore? "They were only the needed things," said in a clear, simple, beautiful language. If He said them in parables often, it was because the people of His day understood things better said in that way. Things were made clearer, stronger, if illustrated in stories. The great Lincoln understood the effectiveness of such an art, and pointed many a political moral by a human story. If, occasionally, the Master spoke in terms too mysterious to be comprehended by even His disciples, it was occasionally only. The needed things the common wayfarer could understand then, understands them to-day. He boiled down the whole duty of life into seven words, "Do as you would be done by." This, He said, was all there is to religion. How simple, how just, how necessary, if we hope for happiness even in our every-day life. Once at the dawn of a beautiful summer morning in Galilee, the Master stood on the edge of a mountain and chose twelve disciples to help Him teach, and to the whole world delivered the wonderful message known as "The Sermon on the Mount." Lovelier words were never spoken--so simple, so true, so direct, so sustaining to human hearts, that they were to reach through all times and to all men. It ended with the great promise that "unto him who sought God's kingdom all things should be added." The promise of that morning in Galilee sustains mankind forever. Once He went over to the little city of Tyre by the Mediterranean, perhaps to teach some there. Possibly it was the only time the Master ever beheld the ocean. Tyre, with its minarets, its monuments, its temples, its white sails on the sea, was a heathen city. One can fancy how profoundly stirred a soul like His, steeped in a love of nature, must have been at the first sight of the ocean. There were the white ships going to every known land of the earth--there was a new and picturesque people; there was heathendom, in luxurious idolatry. The little journey served Him as material for many a reflection later in His Galilean home. His name was not wholly strange in the beautiful heathen city by the sea--for it is told how a woman, a Greek, met Him, threw herself at His feet, and beseeched Him to heal her daughter. The persistence, the faith of this heathen woman, that He could do it, even without seeing the afflicted daughter, led to a miracle. As in almost all His life the miracle came only after the absolute show of faith on the part of the one asking. No faith, no miracle, was a constant teaching. Only a little time there by the blue sea now, and He is soon off for a three days' stay in that heathen land--the desert cities beyond the Jordan. Heathen as they are there, they follow in multitudes and are astounded at His wonders, for He heals many of the sick. There, too, almost on the edge of His own country, He feeds another multitude. It is the five thousand people who have followed Him to a lonesome place in the country. They are filled, and they glorify His name. As darkness comes on the vast crowd that He has fed goes home rejoicing--while the disciples enter a boat, and, despite a coming storm on the lake of Galilee, start to the other side. Jesus Himself goes up on a lonesome mountain to pray. The night is utterly dark on the sea, and the wind howls around the foot of the mountain and over the tempest-tossed waters. Naturally, the disciples and the boatmen are alarmed. Their boat is about going down--the wind is more threatening--midnight is on the sea. Once there is a little rift in the clouds, and the half-light of a summer moon falls over them; the sailors glance out onto the waves and behold the form of a man walking toward them on the billows. It is a spirit. The phantom--as phantom it surely is--fills them with alarm, but a voice cries out, "Be not afraid, it is I." It is said, Peter seeing some one walking on the water tried it himself, and would have drowned had not the strange spirit taken him by the hand. Then the phantom itself got into the boat--the winds at once went down--and, as the little ship touched the shore, the amazed disciples discover the night phantom to be the Lord Himself. The weird story instantly is sent to all the neighboring villages, and again people come in multitudes, some to be healed, some to revile. They were willing enough to be healed, everybody, yet the unbelieving also were there in crowds, and, strangely enough, despite wonders, miracles, and healing, a storm of opposition grows. His Galileans themselves even are joining His opponents. It is all unexplainable. To us of the twentieth century it would seem that seeing the miracles He did, and hearing the Heavenly teaching that fell from His lips, the whole world would have fallen down and worshiped. Perhaps He said too many things that they could not understand. He went up to Capernaum that morning for a little bit, and talked to the people in the village synagogue. "I am the Bread of Life," he said, "except ye eat the flesh of the Son of Man, and drink His blood, ye have no life in you." This was too much for their small understandings--not a soul knew what He meant. "This is a very hard saying," His hearers answered. They puzzled their brains over it a little; loss of faith was seizing on them. Some of them commenced leaving Him. Then He said something harder still, "If this about the flesh and blood startles you, what would you say to see me ascending up where I was?" Now, still, the mystery had deepened; more people left Him. In a tone of overwhelming sadness He asked His twelve apostles "if they too would leave Him"? The storm of hatred was breaking everywhere. Enemies surrounded Him; only a few seemed absolutely faithful. The rabbis, the scribes, and the big doctrinaires at Jerusalem had their spies everywhere, watching for His smallest word to ensnare Him. They surely, earnestly, believed Him a foe to all their Jewish church. He was teaching people to despise their great prophet, Moses, and to follow the vagaries of a new, unheard of religion. He was to them worse than the heathens across the border. What a change it all was! Even here in His own beautiful Capernaum they began to deny Him. Pharisees, Sadducees, and every conceivable enemy of the new faith are concentrating in crowds to traduce Him. Once more they demand a sign from Heaven--again, a clap of thunder, a sudden earthquake, or something, if He wants to prove that He is really the Christ. To their insolent demands He naturally makes no reply. Then more than ever conspiracy to destroy Him is rapidly being set on foot everywhere. Shortly He will leave this people by Galilee and their hypocrisies and falseness forever. Of course, His immediate friends all around Lake Galilee and His disciples are mostly sticking to Him, but not all of them--many have gone back on Him. One day walking on a country road He asked His disciples who the people really said He was? They answered that some thought Him one of the old prophets, risen from the dead. Herod up at Jerusalem believed Him to be John the Baptist, whom he had murdered to please a dancing girl that night in the castle by the Dead Sea. Herod was much alarmed about it all, too. "But who do you say that I am?" the Master asked again--and Peter said, "Thou art the Christ." "Tell no one this," continued Jesus, and then He explained to them privately His coming sufferings and death. They were all astounded. But these sufferings simply "had to be"; likewise His death. It seemed impossible. He spoke to them then about life's duties, the futility of riches, of earthly success, and added, "What shall it profit a man to gain the whole world and lose his own soul?" There was much thinking now, but still little believing. In less than a week He took three of His disciples on to a high mountain to pray, and, while there before them, He was transfigured for a little while. "And the fashion of his countenance altered, and his raiment was white and glistening." Not only that--two angels, or spirits, appeared in glory with Him and talked about the death that was to come to Him at Jerusalem. Shortly, as the Master and His disciples went down the mountain side, they met a crowd gesticulating and shouting over an epileptic boy led by his agonized father. Some of the Apostles had tried to cure this boy and failed. The father prayed to Christ for compassion. "If thou only canst believe," answered Christ, "all things are possible." Weeping, the father said, "Lord, I believe, help thou my unbelief"--and the boy at once was healed. The scene on the mountain and the story gave rise to that greatest picture in the world, Raffael's painting of the "Transfiguration." It is in the Vatican at Rome. CHAPTER VII Jesus goes alone and on foot to Jerusalem, to try and prove Himself. In six months they will kill Him. The rich Capital no place for Socialism. "If thou be Christ, tell us, plainly." He is a fugitive from a city mob. The Raising of Lazarus. Again the people are following Him. The great Sanhedrin is alarmed. "This Man has everybody believing on Him! He will create a Revolution yet." Jerusalem is in political danger, anyway; so is the Roman Empire. Everything seems going to pieces. "This Man has too many Followers; we must kill Him." Judas is hired to betray Him. There is but a little stay in Capernaum now, the great Galilean will scarcely walk by His beautiful lake again. He is now thirty-two years old and more. In a few days His disciples will have gone up to Jerusalem to the great festival, the feast of the tabernacle. It is said that some of the nearest relatives of the Galilean did not believe in Him even now. It was they, however, who told Him to go up to Jerusalem to the headquarters of the opposition and "prove himself," if He could. "Show Thyself to the world," they said, "these things are not done in secret." And so He went alone and on foot. Six months--and it will be the end. They will kill Him. His meditation on that lonesome foot journey to Jerusalem, with death and the cross as its last goal, we will never know. The great Jerusalem is full of strangers. Tens of thousands are now beginning to hear of the great Galilean for the first time. There is great excitement in the city. Most of the newcomers take time to talk of Him. He is on every tongue. "When does He come, and from whence?" "Galilee?" "No good can come from there; that is sure." "Where is He now?" "Why do the people shout?" "What does He look like?" "Will He be welcomed or stoned?" Suddenly the sweet face of the Master himself is on the temple porch in Jerusalem. Look, He is teaching the people. How strange, how embarrassing the situation. Save for a little coming of believers and friends, men and women who have come to Him from Galilee, He is almost without a friend in all that splendid city. If many souls, hearing, believe in Him, it is dangerous to say so. All such will be turned out of the synagogue, their houses and their lands taken from them. Anyway this great, unbelieving city is not the place to preach humility in, nor love for the lowly, nor the giving away of property, nor for the reproaching of the rich. That is a kind of socialism usually wanted by people who have nothing. This splendid city, with its minarets and domes, its gorgeous temple, and the magnificent structures built by Roman emperors, is full of rich people, full of aristocrats; and is governed by proud priests, who look upon the Galilean reformer and His small following with utter contempt. One day when He was walking on Solomon's porch of the temple, numbers of Jews came around Him and tauntingly said, "How long dost Thou make us to doubt? If Thou be the Christ, tell us plainly." He answered, "I have already told you, and ye believed not." "The works I do in my Father's name bear witness of me." Then He happened to say something very mysterious. "I and my Father are one." That was too much for them. Not knowing what it meant, they tried to stone Him out of the city. "I have done many good works," He continued, "for which of those works do you stone me?" "We stone you for blasphemy," they cried, "and because being a man Thou makest Thyself God." He had to fly. Another bitter charge against Him had been His healing the sick on Sunday. Not even a good deed dare be done on the Sabbath, was a doctrine of these extreme interpreters of the Mosaic law. Once the Lord restored a blind man to sight on a Sunday, and the poor man was almost mobbed because of it. The wrangling of the scribes and doctors about Him still goes on. There is not a moment of peace for Him. He is even in constant danger. On a slope of the Mount of Olives, where He often sits summer evenings looking down to the city at His feet and lamenting over it, stands the little hamlet of Bethany. Three good friends of his live there. Mary and Martha and their brother Lazarus. Many a time after tiresome disputes and wranglings with insolent priests and rabbis in the city, who were only trying to entrap Him, He goes to this quiet little home among the olive groves for rest. After a while He leaves the neighborhood of the great city entirely, and goes over the Jordan near the desert, to the very spot in fact where John baptized Him two years ago. What strange feelings must have possessed His soul while there--there where the dove had come down on Him, and where the great voice had called Him "the beloved Son"! There His public life commenced. And now He is there again. Not with the voice of God speaking to Him.--No--He is a fugitive from a city mob. Yet a great many people from the villages come to Him down there by the Jordan and believe on Him. Many wonders are again performed. Many people are healed. A part of this restful time away from Jerusalem is spent close to Jericho. A lovely plain is there with delightful plantations and gardens of perfume. "It is a divine country there," said Josephus, the historian, but in those days it was all fresh and green--the climate different from now. Lover of beautiful nature as He was, this little spot of roses and verdure must have delighted His soul. In a few days His dear friends Mary and Martha, back there in Bethany, send to tell Him that their brother Lazarus, who is very dear to Him, is sick. "Let us go back there at once," exclaimed the Master. His disciples tried to warn Him. "Why,--they stoned you and you had to fly just now,--will you risk going back?" He reflected a moment in silence, and then told them, sadly, plainly, that Lazarus was dead. "Let us go." And some of the disciples said, "Let us also go that we may die with Him." It is only some twenty-five miles perhaps, and they have come near to the village. It seems the friend had been dead four days already. But the coming back is to be followed by one of the astonishing wonders of Bible history. Lazarus is to be brought to life. The names of Lazarus, with Mary and Martha, had been well known in Jerusalem, and numbers of its good citizens had come out to the village to condole with the bereaved sisters. Hearing of the Master's approach, Martha hurried out to the edge of the village and met Him at the door of her dead brother's tomb, a place cut in the solid rock. "If thou hadst been here, my brother had not died," cried the sister, weeping. "He will rise again," the Master answered, simply. "Yes, I know, at the resurrection," said Martha. Again he spoke. "I am the Resurrection, whosoever believeth in me shall never die. Believest thou this? Hast thou faith?" And she answered, "Yes." Instantly she ran and told her sister, and she, too, came, believing and worshiping. "Did I not tell thee," said the Master, "that if thou wouldst believe, thou shouldst see the glory of God?" Then He commanded the door of the tomb to be taken away--and, in a loud voice, bade the dead to rise. In a moment the living Lazarus walked out of the tomb. Some of the Jews, seeing it, believed. Some of the higher classes also believed. However it was done, it had been an astounding wonder, and the excitement ran like wildfire into the city. The great Sanhedrin and chief priests, hearing of it, instantly called a secret council. "What shall we do?" they said. "This man doeth many miracles. If let alone, all men will believe on him--and the Romans will come and take our place and nation away from us." There was an ex-high priest named Annas at this secret meeting. He was a religious tyrant, who had never lost his power in the Jewish councils. His son-in-law, Caiaphas, was officially high priest, but only as his tool. Annas was the power behind the throne. His wishes, his commands, prevailed everywhere. The murderous strings were pulled by his hands. Annas hated Jesus, hated the apostles, hated every new doctrine; and possibly, too, he truly feared that any new religion or excitement might disturb Jewish politics, might bring on rebellion, might even bring the hatred of Rome on the Jews. He did not know that the hatred of Rome was already turned against Palestine; nor that Palestine, Jerusalem, Rome itself, were all at that moment on the road to destruction, but it is from causes with which the teaching of the Galilean, whom he is about to murder, has nothing to do. "It is better to kill this religious fanatic and disturber and save ourselves," said Annas to the great council. "We will not do it with our own hands--we will arrest Him, bring Him before the judges, and incite the mob to do the rest." And so an order was sent out that the kind Jesus should be arrested wherever found. The miracle at the tomb, however performed, or however believed, had proved to be the most important act of the Galilean's life. Now it was, alas, to be a warrant for His death. "Now," said the Sanhedrin council, "it is going too far--all the world is running after Him." In perhaps a week after this there was a little supper at Martha's home, in Bethany, only two miles out of the city--and the Master was there, and the resurrected Lazarus sat at the table with them. Singularly enough Judas, the coming traitor, was also there, and complained of Mary's using some precious ointment to bathe the feet of the Master. Because he was treasurer for the apostles and a thief, he wanted the money value of the ointment put where he could steal it. He was now already preparing himself for the great betrayal. Out of curiosity to see Lazarus, the resurrected one, many went to the village that night from Jerusalem; some of them also were converted. The priests, hearing of this, decided it was best to put Lazarus also to death. The great wonder performed at the tomb had alarmed them. It had not converted them. In a few hours, believing people, hearing that the great Galilean was entering the city again, went out to meet him, swinging palm leaves and shouting hosannas. Many even threw their mantles down for Him to ride over and hailed Him king of Israel. Some of the bystanders, looking on with contempt, even asked Jesus to silence and rebuke His zealous followers. "No, no," He answered, "were these to hold their peace, the very stones would cry out." Again all kinds of snares are set for Him, every word is watched. Though He is again permitted to talk at the porch of the temple every day, spies are there listening. He is hated in the great city. Pretty soon they will call Him a criminal for doing cures on the Sabbath, for with their laws one scarcely dared eat his dinner on a Sunday; not this only, they will persecute Him for saying He is a king when there is no king, save Tiberius at Rome. Sometimes the Galilean's own talk seems wilder, less comprehensible than it even was to His native villagers. He has himself become so wholly spiritual, so filled with a quick coming of the new kingdom, that He hardly realizes the material life about Him. Occasionally He climbs up to the top of the Mount of Olives, overlooking the beautiful city, and sits there for hours, meditating on its spiritual destruction--a destruction He had come to prevent, and cannot. Even a material destruction is hanging over Jerusalem. In thirty-seven years it will be burned to the earth--and where the gorgeous temple stands, the mosque of Omar will one day lift its head, type and temple of Mahomet, whose creed would have broken the Master's heart. It seems the Master in His soul knew all that was about to happen. Could He not have prevented it? By a miracle could He not have destroyed all His enemies at a single blow? He did not do it. He only said, "It is the father's will, these awful things that are about to happen." He would not shirk them. He regarded Himself foreordained to suffer. To His mind the Old Scriptures foretold His awful sacrifice. CHAPTER VIII The last supper. Leonardo's great picture. Betrayal. With a rope around his neck, the Savior of mankind is dragged before a Roman Judge. The scene at Pilate's palace. Pilate's wife warns him. The awful murder and the End. One evening He and His disciples sat together at their evening meal--it was to be their last on earth. It is doubtful if the disciples really believed all was to be finished so soon. Yet He had most earnestly told them of His coming death. It was now in the Passover week--and the Master and His nearest ones proposed celebrating one of its festivals in private and alone. "But where?" asked his disciples. "Well," He had said, "go into Jerusalem, and the first man you meet carrying a pitcher of water, follow him to the house where he goes; there tell the owner I am coming, and he will show you an upper room, all prepared for us." Two of them went as told, followed the man with the pitcher, and found all in readiness for the little supper. That evening the Master and His disciples took a walk together from little Bethany, over the Mount of Olives, to Jerusalem. It was their last walk together on earth. At this supper where they now are, the Galilean once more tells His disciples the fate awaiting Him. He even points out the betrayer; but they do not seem to know His meaning. Quietly, and aside, He whispers to Judas to "Do that which you are going to do quickly." It seems that Judas at once slipped away from the eleven and went out to hunt up the enemies of one he called Master. For a trifling sum of silver he had sold his own soul. This scene, like that of the Transfiguration, has been celebrated by one of the great pictures of the world. Leonardo da Vinci's picture of the "Last Supper," in an old church at Milan, Italy, is in itself a miracle of art. Perhaps no painting on earth has attracted so many believing pilgrims to see and to sigh over the sorrow of the Master. That very night when the moon rose over the towers and walls of the city, Jesus and His disciples left the supper room and secretly went out across the little brook Cedron and entered an olive orchard, to-day known as the Garden of Gethsemane. It is close to the city walls. There in the moonlight the disciples, tired and afraid, and probably hiding from their enemies, lay down on the grass and slept. The Master Himself stepped a little into the shade of the olive trees to pray. He knew the hour had come. In a little while, it was the midnight hour now, he heard men coming, with stones and swords and lanterns. Fearlessly He stepped out into the light of the full moon and asked them whom they were looking for. They answered, "Jesus, of Nazareth." He said quietly, "I am He." At the same moment Judas, the betrayer, walked up and kissed Him. This had been a sign agreed upon between Judas and the priests, as to which one to capture. The little handful of friends with the Lord now tried to give battle, but He would not permit them. He was at once bound, and carried back into the city. It is past midnight. He is first conducted before Annas, the church tyrant, who sends Him to Caiaphas, the high priest. There He is questioned and tortured. By the time it is daylight He is sent to the judgment hall of Pilate and accused. Pilate is a Roman. Under the Roman law there still must be some pretense of a charge against a human being before he can be put to death--some charge of wrong. It is now seven in the morning. Priests, scribes, Pharisees, all come before Pilate in a howling mob, leading the Savior of mankind with a rope around His neck. They had tortured Him half the night--they have decided He shall die; they only want permission to kill Him, or have Him killed by Pilate. As it is the holy festival time, custom does not permit the mob to enter the heathen palace of Pilate. So they stand out in the street, on a place called the "pavement," and howl. "What is the charge against Him? What has this man done?" demands the Roman governor, with a show of justice as he steps out to the front of his palace and looks at the mob. "He says he is Christ, the King," some of the accusers answer. Pilate goes back into the great hall, with the marble floor and the gilded ceilings. He himself has no love for the Jews. They have no love for Pilate. He knows the Jerusalemites to be a seditious lot of zealots, quarreling forever among themselves, and fanatical in their adherence to the laws of Moses. The Jews know Pilate to be a hater of their creeds and customs. They regard him, too, a brutal governor; but now they would use this brutality against one of whom they were a little afraid, for in the villages this Galilean, whom they were persecuting, had many friends. Would not the people rise, moved by His wonderful miracles, and at last put an end to all their religious pretenses? It was the temple-people, the Sanhedrins, and the Pharisaic priests who stood in front of this mob, gathered at Pilate's palace on that early morning. They had already decided their victim must die, and they were inciting all the ignorant to violence. Because of the Roman occupation, Pilate's approval was a necessity before they could quite kill a man. They reckoned, however, that he would want to please them some, and so lessen his own unpopularity. In a little time the governor called Jesus into the judgment hall. Looking at the wronged, the suffering, the persecuted being who stood before him, the blood falling from His poor body to the floor Pilate asked Him plainly if He were the king of the Jews? "Do you ask that of yourself," said the persecuted but heroic prisoner, "or did others tell it of me?" Pilate was in fact greatly impressed by the face, serene, even in suffering, and the mild words of one falsely accused. The Savior explained that if He was a king it was not of this world. His kingdom was of the spirit. Pilate did not quite understand that. He himself was not very spiritual. Jesus added, "I am a witness to the Truth." "Then what is Truth?" said Pilate. We can only guess the answer given him. It may have greatly moved the Roman, for he at once went out to the mob assembled on the pavement and said, "I find no fault in this man." Some one in the crowd spoke up and accused Jesus of stirring up the peasants in Galilee. "If he is a Galilean," said Pilate to himself, "he must be tried by Antipas, the Galilean governor." Reliable tradition says that they also shouted at him that this was the very Child Jesus, whom Herod tried to kill when he massacred the children of Bethlehem. Pilate had never heard of the flight to Egypt nor of the return. He supposed the Child Christ dead. Now he is astounded, and alarmed, for where had Jesus been all these years? Had His origin, His identity been kept a secret? Does not this tradition and Pilate's alarm add strength to the supposition that years of His life had passed in the secret of the desert? Pilate gladly sent him to Antipas, who that very day happened to be in Jerusalem at the festival. The Galilean ruler had heard of Christ a thousand times, and often had longed to see him and talk with him, but most he was curious to see a miracle performed. Again the Master is accused, but to the many questions of Antipater He makes no answer whatever. Neither does He perform some miracle for the curiosity and sport of the Galilean court. Offended at His silence, and greatly disappointed, the king mocks Him, and arraying Him in ridiculous garments sends Him back to Pilate. But he has found no fault in Him--no act against the laws of Galilee for which he dare punish Him. Again He is before Pilate, the Roman, again full of pain, and bleeding, He answers mildly as before, or else is silent, submitting to outrageous injury. Three times Pilate goes out before the crowd and tells them that Christ has done nothing worthy of death. "Again I tell you I find no fault in Him. I sent Him over to Antipas, the king of Galilee. He also finds no fault worthy of death. Let me chastise Him and set Him free." But the crowd yelled the louder for His blood. Once the wife of Pilate comes and whispers to him to "have nothing to do with that good man, I have been forewarned in a dream." Again Pilate earnestly strives to save Him. Again he addresses the mob, "You know it is our custom to release a prisoner at this festival. I have Barabbas, the robber, here and Jesus. Let me set Jesus free and hang the robber." "No, no," cry a hundred voices; "free Barabbas and crucify the heretic." The Roman, accomplished in killing men, practiced in cruelty as he is, shudders at the fearful injustice. He knows the Galilean has done no wrong. The bruised and bleeding body of the Master waits in silence and prayer there in the hall of the palace. The cries for His murder reach His ears--they grow louder and louder. Pilate, confused as to the law, as to his duty, and perhaps alarmed, weakened, in a contemptible moment of cowardice, yields. But first he steps to the front, and in a loud voice exclaims, "Look you, I wash my hands of the blood of this good man." He could do nothing more. In a moment the robber is set free, and the Christ, followed by a multitude, some deriding and some weeping for pity, starts for the awful place of execution. Once as He goes along the thorny way, He hears pitying women bewailing and weeping. Turning His face to them, He cries, "Daughters of Jerusalem, weep not for me; but weep for yourselves and your children." That weeping, that sorrow, has continued two thousand years. Humanity will weep forever over the awfulness of what happened. It is hard to think that God ordained any of this suffering of Jesus. More likely the Master, in the extremity of His zeal for humanity, believed His very blood on the cross a needed sacrifice to awaken the world. He was human. His road from Pilate's palace to the cross has been followed in tears by millions of people. The awful picture of what happened there is too dreadful to describe. John, the Evangelist, himself was present--the only eye witness who has written of it, yet not even he has the courage to tell the story beyond a dozen verses in the Testament. The disciples had deserted the Lord, and were in hiding. They were in fear. They could not drink the cup the Master had to drink. A few women, including the mother of the Redeemer and her sister, were present to the very end. To make the anguish as disgraceful as possible, the Master was nailed to a cross between two thieves. It was the most agonizing kind of execution known to the cruel Roman law. Some Roman soldiers put Him to death, as ordered by their governor, but the blood of it all was on the hands of fanatics and priests. Pilate, in mockery of the Jews, whom he despised for this murder, forced on him, put an inscription over the cross saying, "The King of the Jews." The mob of murderers wanted him to amend the phrase, and have it read, "He said He was King of the Jews." Pilate declined, for Jesus had never said that. Besides, Pilate had had enough of the horror that, like an earthquake, was to shock the world. He had washed his hands of it. The deed done, the anguish over, Joseph, a secret Christian convert, though a rich member of the Sanhedrin, asked Pilate for the body of Jesus, and put it in a new tomb of his own, hewn in the solid rock, as was a custom of the land. On what is now known as Easter morning, just as the dawn was breaking over the hills of Jerusalem, Mary Magdalene went to the tomb of the dead Master. It had been opened by angels, as she believed, for, on looking within, she saw two figures sitting there dressed in white. Very quickly two of the disciples, whom Mary saw and told, came and looked into the cave also and saw nothing but the linen clothes of the Master, and went away. The body was not there. Mary waited a little yet by herself, when one of the angels asked her why she was weeping. She answered, "They have taken away my Lord." At that moment she turned her face a little and saw a spirit standing by her. Thinking at first it was the gardener, she asked it where the body had been taken to. To her amazement the spirit spoke and sadly said, "Mary." Instantly she knew it was the Lord. She would have thrown herself at His feet, but He bade her not to touch Him, but rather to hasten to the disciples and tell them He was about to ascend to Heaven. That day, on a country road, outside Jerusalem, He overtook two of His disciples, and walked and talked with them all the way to Emmaus, telling them the great story of the Scriptures, while they walked and wondered, not knowing it was the spirit of the dead Master. That same evening, too, that same Spirit of Jesus appeared to the disciples in a closed room where they were hiding for fear of the Jews. In a little while the word went round among the followers that the Lord was risen. For forty days that Spirit, risen from the tomb, was to be seen by the faithful in Jerusalem and in Galilee. To His apostles His appearance in the spirit could not have been surprising, for He had repeatedly told them that He would be crucified, and would rise again in three days. As to a possibility of life after death--there was little or no question among the Jews. The Sadducees only argued against it. The belief of that time and of ages before was in a resurrection. Even Daniel had told the people distinctly that the time would come "when many that sleep in the dust of the earth shall awake, some to everlasting life, and some to shame and contempt." Indeed, Jews at this very moment were expecting Elias and other prophets to rise from their graves and rule the world from Palestine. Whether Christ's physical body also appeared to Mary Magdalene that morning in the garden we may never know. Lyman Abbott has rightly said that it is "not even important that we should know." It is sufficient that the Spirit that never dies was there. His appearance was the perfect proof of an after life. Pilate and the murderers had killed only the body, not the soul. Quite possibly spirits have been momentarily seen in our later times, but His, seen by thousands, walked about the earth for forty days. That event was to establish a religion that would reform the world and live forever. The world now knew there was a second life to strive for--and the road to that life was in being good to one another. Millions have walked it, and died in peace. They died, not to an eternal sleep but to waken with the light of Heaven bursting around them. THE END * * * * * Transcriber's note: Text enclosed by underscores is in italics (_italics_). Small capital text has been replaced with all capitals. Variations in spelling, punctuation and hyphenation have been retained except in obvious cases of typographical error. The transcriber has changed the preface signature "H. S. M. B." to "S. H. M. B." 
41650	----	Transcriber's Note: Every effort has been made to replicate this text as faithfully as possible, including nonstandard spellings and inconsistent hyphenation. Italic text has been marked with _underscores_. Bold text has been marked with =equals signs=. We have done with the kisses that sting, The thief's mouth red from the feast, The blood on the hands of the king, And the lie at the lips of the priest. --_Swinburne_ Is the Morality of Jesus Sound? A Lecture Delivered Before the Independent Religious Society, Orchestra Hall, Chicago, Sunday, at 11 A. M. [Illustration] By M. M. MANGASARIAN _I make war against this theological instinct: I have found traces of it everywhere. Whoever has theological blood in his veins is, from the very beginning, ambiguous and disloyal with respect to everything.... I have digged out the theologist instinct everywhere; it is the most diffused, the most peculiarly SUBTERRANEAN form of falsity that exists on earth. What a theologian feels as true, MUST needs be false: one has therein almost a criterion of truth._ --_Nietzsche._ Is the Moral Teaching of Jesus Sound? A great deal depends upon the answer to the question, "Is the moral teaching of Jesus sound?" This question brings us to the inner and most closely guarded citadel of Christianity. If it can be captured, the rout of supernaturalism will be complete; but as long as it stands, Christianity can afford to lose every one of its outer fortifications, and still be the victor. Reason may drive supernaturalism out of the Catholic position into the Protestant, and out of that, into the Unitarian, and out of that again into Liberalism, but reason does not become master of the field until it has stormed and razed to the ground this last and greatest of all the strongholds--the morality of Christianity. If Jesus was the author of perfect or even the highest ideals the world has ever cherished, he will, and must, remain the saviour, _par excellence_, of the world. Whether he was man or God, which question Unitarianism discusses, is a trifling matter. If his ethical teaching is practically without a flaw, I would gladly call him God, and more, if such a thing were possible. His walking on the water, or his raising the dead, or his flying through the air, would not in the least embarrass me. I could accept them all--if he rose morally head and shoulders above every other mortal or immortal, our world has ever produced. It is claimed that he did. What is the evidence? To facilitate this discussion, and to concentrate all our attention on the subject of this discourse, we will waive the question of the historicity of Jesus. For the sake of argument, we will accept the gospels as history--accept the authenticity of the documents, the trustworthiness of the witnesses, and the inspiration of the texts which we are to quote. We will grant every point; concede every claim, allow every contention of the defendants. We will then say to them: Does the evidence which you have presented and we have accepted without raising any objections, prove that the moral teaching of Jesus is perfect, or even the highest the world has ever possessed? A system of thought, or a code of morals, is much like a building. A serious crack in one of the walls, or a post that is not secure in its socket, is enough to make the whole building unsafe. When a building is condemned, it is not condemned for the parts that are sound, but for the part or parts that are unsound. To change my illustration, the strength of a chain is in its weakest link. So is the strength of a religion in its most vulnerable parts. By overlooking the weakness and dwelling solely upon the strong points, we could make any religion appear as the best in the world; as a similar bias would prove the most rickety building even perfectly safe. A lawyer, an advocate, or special pleader, may conceal, or cover up the cracks in the walls of a building, or the defects of an institution. But why should I? My object is not to save the building, but the people who are in it. I am not interested in saving the creed or the religion, but the people who stake their lives on it. I am not trying to earn my fee, I am trying to serve the people. Why should I, then, be expected to spread the mantle of charity over a building that deserves to be condemned, or plead for a religion that blocks the path of advancement? And why,--why should any religion beg for charity? To a cashier of a bank, to a treasurer of a corporation, to an official of the municipality or the state, who should beg the examining committee not to look into all his dealings, but only to report what good they can of him, we say: "You are guilty." Not only that, but he is also trying to make us his accomplices. Lawyer-like, preachers often tell their hearers to see only the good in the bible, for instance. "When you are eating fish," they say, "you eat the meat and throw away the bones. Do the same with the bible." But why should anything in the bible be meant to be thrown away? Pardon me if I use a stronger expression--why should any part of the Word of God be destined for the garbage box? It is a pleasure, and it confirms us in our optimism, to admit that in all the religions of the world, even in the crudest, there is much that is good, as in every structure or dwelling there are rooms and walls and posts that are perfectly sound. Religions live, as buildings endure,--by the soundness there is in them. It is not the cracked wall or damaged pillar which supports the building--it is the sound parts that keep it together. The same is true of religions. It is the truths they contain that preserve them. Mohammedanism, for instance, has survived for nearly fifteen centuries, and its survival is due to the virtues and not to the vices of the Mohammedan faith. This is equally true of Judaism and Christianity. If human Society has survived for these many centuries, it is because, imperfect as it is, there is enough of justice and honor among men to keep it from disintegration. But is that any reason why we should be content with what little justice or truth there is in the world, and not strive for more? And shall we hold our tongues on the terrible injustice and oppression all around us simply because there is also goodness and virtue among men? Simply because the human race keeps going as it is, shall we not endeavor to improve it? And because there is some good in all religions, shall we shut our eyes to the dangerous fallacies they contain? Is it not our duty as well as our privilege to labor for a more rational and a more ennobling faith? In the teachings attributed to Jesus, whose nativity is celebrated to-day[1] in Europe and America, there is much that we are in cordial sympathy with. We can say the same of all the founders of religions. If any one were to point out to us passages of beauty in the four evangels, I for myself would gladly agree to all that may be said in their praise. But if I were asked to infer from these isolated passages that the ethical teaching of Jesus is not only the most perfect within human reach, but also sufficient to the needs of man for all time, I would deem it a stern duty to combat the proposition with all the earnestness at my command. It would then be the duty, indeed, of every one to denounce the attempt to arrest the progress of the world by holding it bound to the thought of one man. In the interest of morality itself, it must be shown that Jesus is not the highest product of the ages, nor is he the best that the future can promise. There is room beyond Jesus. But not only was Jesus not the perfect teacher his worshippers claim him to have been, but there are flaws in his system--cracks and rents in the walls of his temple--so serious and menacing, that not to call attention to them would be to shirk the most urgent service we owe to the cause of humanity. [1] Christmas Sunday, Dec. 26, 1909. My first general criticism of the morality of Jesus is, that it lacks universality. It is not meant for all peoples and all times. It is rather the morality of a sect, a coterie, or a secret society. I object to the provincialism of Jesus. Jesus was not a cosmopolite. He was a Hebrew before he was a man. If we find Jerusalem on the map of the world and draw a circle around it,--covering the rest of the map with our hands,--we will then have before us all the world that Jesus knew anything about,--or cared for. Little did he think of the rest of the world. The continents of Asia, Africa, Australia, Europe, and the, as yet, undiscovered America, had no place whatever either in his thought or affection. The yellow millions of China and Japan, the dusky millions of Hindustan, the blacks of Africa with their galling chains, the white races with the most pressing problems which ever taxed the brain of man--do not seem to have deserved even a passing notice from Jesus. It is quite evident that such a country as our America, for instance, with its nearly one hundred millions of people of all races and religions, dwelling under the same flag, and governing themselves without a King or a Caesar, never crossed the orbit even of his imagination. Is it reasonable to go to a provincial of this description for _universal_ ideals? What Jesus has in mind is not humanity, but a particular race. Israel is the nation that monopolizes his attention, and even in that nation his interest is limited to those that believe in him as the Messiah. The idea of a world-salvation was utterly foreign to his sympathies. His disciples were all of one race, and he emphatically warned them against going into the cities of the Gentiles to preach the gospel. He tells them that he was sent expressly and exclusively for the lost sheep of the house of Israel. Of course, we are familiar with the "Go ye into all the world and preach the gospel to every creature," but Jesus is supposed to have given that commandment after his _death_. In his life time, he said, "Go not into the cities and towns of the Gentiles." If he said, "Go _not_, to the Gentiles!" when he was living, the "Go to the Gentiles," after his death, has all the ear-marks of an interpolation. The two statements squarely contradict each other. Granting that Jesus knew what he was talking about, he could not have given both commandments. Moreover, from the conduct of the apostles who refused to go to the Gentiles until Paul came about,--who had never seen or heard Jesus,--it may be concluded that Jesus did not change his mind to the very last on the matter of his being sent "only for the lost children of the House of Israel." But the thought of Jesus is as Hebraic as are his sympathies. His God is invariably the "God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob." Suppose he had also called God, "The God of Abraham, Confucius and Socrates." Ah, if Jesus had only said that! The idea of the larger God was in the human mind, but not in his. The idea was in the air, but Jesus was not tall enough to reach it. He did not look beyond a tribal Deity. The God of Jesus was a Hebrew. To Jesus David was the only man who looked big in history. Of Alexander, for example, who conquered the world and made the Greek language universal--the language in which his own story, the story of Jesus, is written, and which story, in all probability would never have come down to us but for the Greek language and Alexander; of Socrates, whose daily life was the beauty of Athens; of Aristotle, of whom Goethe said that he was the greatest intellect the world had produced; of the Caesars, who converted a pirate station on the Tiber to an Eternal City--Jesus does not seem to have heard at all--and if he had, he does not seem to care for them, any more than would a Gypsy Smith. The heaven of Jesus is also quite Semitic. His twelve apostles are to sit upon twelve thrones--to judge the _twelve tribes of Israel_. There is no mention of anybody else sitting on a throne, or of anybody else in heaven except Jews. People will come from the east and the west, from the north and the south to meet their father, Abraham, in heaven. The cosmography or topography of the world to come is also Palestinian. It has as many gates as there are sons of Jacob; all its inhabitants have Hebrew names; and just as on earth, outside of Judea, the whole world was _heathen_, in the next world, heaven is where Abraham and his children dwell; the rest is _hell_. Indeed, to Jesus heaven meant Abraham's bosom. And we repeatedly come across the phrase, "heavenly Jerusalem" in the New Testament, as the name of the abode of the blessed? Is it likely that a man so racial, so sectarian, so circumscribed in his thought and sympathies,--so local and clannish,--could assume and fulfill the role of a universal teacher? But not only was the world of Jesus a mere speck on the map, but it was also a world without a future. Jesus expected the world to come to an end in a very short time. And what was the use of trying to get acquainted with, or interested in, a world about to be abandoned? The evidence is very conclusive that Jesus believed the end of the world to be imminent. He says: "Verily I say unto you, ye shall not have gone through the cities of Israel before the son of man come." As Palestine was a small country, and its few cities could easily be visited in a short time, it follows that Jesus expected the almost immediate end of the world. In another text he tells his disciples that this great event would happen in the lifetime of those who were listening to him: "This generation," he says, "shall not pass away," before the world ends. This belief in the approaching collapse of the world was shared by his apostles. Paul, for instance, is constantly exhorting Christians to get ready for the great catastrophe, and he describes how those still living will be transformed when Jesus appears in the clouds. The earliest Christian Society was communistic, because all that they needed was enough to subsist upon before Jesus reappeared. It would have been foolish from their point of view to "lay up treasures on earth" when the earth was soon to be burnt up. Moreover, they were not commanded to labor, but to "watch and pray." The fruits of labor require time to ripen in, and there was no time. The cry was, "Behold the bridegroom is at the door." Hence, to "watch and pray" was the only reasonable occupation. We can see for ourselves how this belief in the near end of the world would create a kind of morality altogether unsuitable to people living in a world that does not come to an end. Jesus never dreamt that the world was going to last, for at least another two thousand years. If anyone had whispered such a thing in his ears, he would have gasped for breath. Could the curtain of the future have been lifted high enough for Jesus to have seen in advance some of the changes that have come upon the world during the past twenty centuries,--the fall of the Roman Empire, the rise of Mohammedanism,--carrying two continents and throwing the third into a state of panic,--wresting the very Jerusalem of Jesus from the Christians and holding it for a thousand years; had Jesus been able to foresee the Dark Ages, the Italian Renaissance, the German Reformation, the French Revolution, the American Revolution with its Declaration of Independence, and later on, its Emancipation Proclamation,--and finally, had Jesus caught even the most distant gleam of that magnificent and majestic Empire, the Empire of Science, with its peaceful reign and bloodless conquests, slowly and serenely climbing above the horizon, bringing to man such a hope as had never before entered his breast, and giving him the stars for eyes, and the wind for wings--had but a glimpse of all this crossed the vision of this Jerusalem youth, his conception of a world soon to be smashed would have appeared to him as the infantile fancy of a--well, what shall I say?--I shall not say of a fanatic, I shall not say, of an illiterate,--let me say--of an enthusiast. The morality of Jesus not only lacked universality, but it was also framed to fit a world under sentence of immediate destruction. Jesus' doctrine of a passing world was born of his pessimism. The old, whether in years, or in spirit, as Shakespeare says, are always wishing "that the estate of the Sun were now undone." Weariness of life is a sign of exhaustion. The strong and the healthy love life. The young are not pessimists. Jesus had the disease of aged and effete Asia. He was not European in ardor or energy. He contemplated a passing panorama, a world crashing and tumbling into ruins all about him, with Oriental resignation. The groan of a dying world was music to him. He enjoyed the anticipation of calamity. The end of the world would put an end to effort and endeavor, both of which the Asiatic dislikes. To tell people that the world is coming to an end soon,--today, tomorrow, is not to kindle, but to extinguish hope; and without hope our world would be darker even than if the sun were to be blotted out of the sky. The objection against Christianity, as also against its parent, Judaism, is that it seeks to divert the attention of man from the work in hand to something visionary and distant. It was to direct men's thoughts to some other world that Jesus belittled this. What are you doing, asks the preacher. I am laboring for my daily bread. Indeed! Have you not heard that Jesus said: "Labor not for the meat that perisheth?" And what are _you_ doing? We are building a city. What! Do you not know that it is written in the Word of God that, "Here we have no abiding City?" And _you_-- I have married and have decided to share my life with the woman I love. And have you not read in St. Paul's Epistles, says the preacher again, that they who are married neglect the things of the Lord? And _you_? We are laboring to improve the world we live in--to make it a little cleaner and sweeter. But do you not know, asks the man of God, that the world will soon pass away,--that, as Jesus has foretold, the sun will turn black, the stars will fall, and the elements will be consumed in a general conflagration? The effect of the teaching of both Judaism and Christianity is to incapacitate man for earnest work now and here. And what do these religions offer in place of the home, the love, the world, which they take away from us? Let us ask the priest: Where then _is_ our home? Yonder!--and he points into space with his finger. Where? In the clouds? Higher. In the stars? Higher still. In the ether? No, higher yet, far, far away. You can not see it. You have to take my word for it. And, unfortunately, so many of us _take his word for it_. And upon what terms will the priest condescend to pilot us to our invisible and aerial mansions? We must turn over to him now, our all,--mind, body and lands. The doctrine of a world hastening to destruction, while it has demoralized the people, it has enriched the churches. During the middle ages, and earlier, and also in more recent times, more than once the credulous public has been scared out of its possessions by the preachers of calamity. Jesus can not very well clear himself of responsibility for this, because, it was he who tried to hurry the people out of a world soon to be set on fire. When a young man asked Jesus' permission to go and bury his father, he was told to "Let the dead bury their dead." This was extraordinary advice to a son who wished to do his father a last service. But Jesus was consistent. The world was catching fire and there was no time to lose. The morality of Jesus was the morality of panic. He would not give people the time to think of anything else but their own salvation from the impending doom. This was Bunyan's interpretation of the spirit of Christianity, for he made _Christian_, the hero of his story, to flee at once from the city of destruction, leaving his wife and children, his neighbors and his country behind. The morality of panic! That this superstition that the world was about to be destroyed influenced the whole teaching of Jesus, as well as depressed his spirits, will be seen by an examination of his famous Sermon on the Mount. Matthew and Luke give somewhat different reports of it. It is likely that Luke's is the less embellished, and therefore more representative of Jesus' real attitude toward life. In the third Gospel, Jesus says, "Blessed are the poor." Matthew gives it as, "Blessed are the poor in spirit." If the first document had the latter form, it is not likely that a later copyist would drop the "in spirit," but if the earlier simply read, "Blessed are the poor," a later writer might find it convenient and necessary even, to soften it by adding the words "in spirit." In Luke there is nothing said about hungering after righteousness, it is merely, "Blessed are ye, that hunger now: for ye shall be filled." The drift of the Sermon as given by Luke, which in all probability is nearer the original than that given by Matthew, and which is at any rate equally inspired, is to wean men from a world which is but a snare and a delusion, and to get them to cultivate other-worldliness. Let me quote a few of the beatitudes: "_Blessed be ye poor; for yours is the kingdom of God. Blessed are ye that hunger now; for ye shall be filled. Blessed are ye that weep now, for ye shall laugh_-- "_Woe unto you that are full; for ye shall hunger._ "_Woe unto you that laugh now; for ye shall mourn and weep._"[2] [2] Luke, VI Chap. And the next world according to Jesus was not really a better world, but the reverse of this. Some are hungry now, some are full. In the world of Jesus, those who are full now, will be hungry, and those who are hungry now will be full. Here Lazarus is suffering, and Dives is in comfort; there, they will change places. That is not a world worth looking forward to. It is not even a _new_ world, but the old world turned about and actually made much worse. The suffering, the misery, the pain, in the world, now, are at least temporary, but there, they will be _eternal_. Here, the rich man, at least, gives of the crumbs of his table to Lazarus, but in heaven Lazarus refuses even a drop of water to moisten the lips of Dives in hell. No healthy and optimistic soul could have dreamed so prosaic a dream. The future is a place of revenge according to Jesus. Such a future as he describes, with thrones for his friends, and hell everlasting for the stranger, would, if really accepted, smite humanity with the worst kind of pessimism. We could pardon Jesus for wishing the destruction of this world, if he only offered a better one in its place. It is in the light of this belief in a vanishing world that the teachings of Jesus should be interpreted. "If any one," says Jesus, "take away thy coat, let him take thy cloak also." Of course. Of what use is property in a world soon to be set on fire? Besides, according to the Sermon on the Mount, the way to have property in heaven is not to have any here. To Jesus, the world was like a tavern--good only for a night's lodging; or to change the simile, the world was like a sinking ship from which, to save ourselves, everything else must be thrown overboard. Who would care to accumulate wealth, who would care to marry, or rear children, on a sinking ship? Could such an alarmist be a sane moral teacher? Yet, Jesus must have been sane enough to realize that the command not to resist evil,--to give to everyone that would borrow; to turn also the other cheek to the aggressor; and to let the robber bully people out of their belongings,--would upset the very foundations of human society and create a chaos unspeakably injurious to the moral life; but what is the difference if we are on a sinking ship! In the same spirit, Jesus advises his disciples to let the tares grow up with the wheat. It is not worth while trying to separate them now, the time is so short. And when he says that we must "hate father, mother, and children for his sake," he means that to escape this great, this hastening calamity which he predicts, would be better for us than to cultivate the affections and the friendships that will soon be no more. It is really impossible for anyone believing in a heaven to be quite just to the world that now is. The other world looks so important to the believer that this one becomes, as John Wesley expressed it, "A fleeting show." The position of Jesus on the important question of marriage and the relation of the sexes is also to be studied in the light of the belief that the world is not going to last very long. It certainly would be absurd to have any weddings, as it would be cruel to have children, or to accumulate property, or to acquire knowledge, in such a world. Tolstoi, in his _Kreutzer Sonata_, which is a terrible story, interprets the real Christian attitude toward marriage. He shows conclusively that it is inconsistent for a follower of Jesus to marry. Even as the believer must give up all property, he must also give up the family. If he is single, he must not marry; if he is married, he must live as though he was not married. Tolstoi proves his contention by quoting among other texts, the following from Jesus: "And everyone that hath forsaken wife or children or lands for my name's sake"--which words are a direct recommendation to forsake kith and kin, wife and husband, in fact everything. To be a Christian, according to Count Tolstoi, is to follow the example of Jesus who abstained from marriage. What is the use of talking about divorce when marriage is forbidden? Jesus said that Moses allowed divorce because of the hardness of men's hearts; and marriage is permitted, according to Paul, as a concession to human weakness. The Christian ideal, however, is celibacy. Jesus is very positive on this point. You will not blame me if I quote his own words, just as I find them in the New Testament. In the gospel of Matthew, chapter nineteen, verse twelve, Jesus speaks of three kinds of eunuchs: first, those who were born deformed; second, those who have been mutilated by men; and third, those "who have made themselves eunuchs for the kingdom of heaven's sake." This is an invitation to all who can to emasculate themselves. Is not this pernicious teaching? A man could not teach such a doctrine in America to-day without laying himself open to the contempt of his fellows, but when preached by Jesus, hypocrisy and cowardice combine to extol it as divine wisdom. Fortunately, such teaching is _admired_--not obeyed. That is as far as hypocrisy cares to go. It is owing to the healthy manhood of the occidental nations that this Asiatic superstition has not altogether bankrupted civilization. In the early centuries many of the followers of Jesus mutilated their bodies "for the kingdom of heaven's sake." There is in Russia a sect called _Skopskis_, with a membership of six thousand, which follows the practice recommended by the founder of Christianity. The vows of _poverty_, _chastity_ and _obedience_, lead practically to self-destruction. Poverty is helplessness, or nothingness; chastity is self-mortification; obedience, by which is meant, absolute surrender of the will to another, is the stamping out of the mind. Goodness! It is not only the world that Christianity wishes to destroy, but also man. Annihilation--the Buddhist Nirvana, seems to be its goal. How to make a man a mere _zero_--poor, emasculated, and a mental slave, seems to be the ideal of this Asiatic cult. After two thousand years of modern education, such is the hold of Jesus upon the Christian world, that in our churches is still sung the hymn: "O, to be nothing, nothing!" With this doctrine of celibacy in view, the indifference of Jesus to the rights of women as human beings is not a surprise. It has been well said that "those who trample upon manhood can have no real respect for woman." Jesus never spoke of God except as a father. If the highest principle or being in the universe is a "he," of course woman can never hope to be on an equality with man. Motherhood will always occupy a secondary place as long as the father is a god. If God is a father, what mother can be on an equality with him? He must rule; she must obey. Women do not stop to think that religion--Christianity, Judaism, Mohammedanism--is the most stubborn obstacle in the path of their advancement. Jesus ignored women in all the essentials of life. He did not love any one of them sufficiently to share his life with her. He had no place for the love of woman in his heart. He kept twelve men as his constant companions. Suppose Jesus had invited some gentle and devoted woman to the honor of apostleship,--what an example that would have been! But he was not great enough to rise above the bigotry of his age. Surely, there were women in his circle of acquaintance better than Judas Iscariot, who sold him for a paltry sum of money. Women may wait upon Jesus at the table, they may give birth to him, and nurse him; they may fall at his feet to bathe them with their tears and wipe them with their tresses--but to be his apostles--not that. Had Jesus been really a great genius he would have understood that in the work of saving people, the co-operation of woman is indispensable. There are no better saviors than women. How many a husband has been saved from drink--from the gutter even, by his wife. How many sons have been shielded from a prodigal's fate by a mother's all-conquering devotion. Yet for this splendid force or agency of reform, Jesus had no appreciation whatever. If I were hanged on the highest hill Mother o' mine; I know whose love would follow me still Mother o' mine. Jesus failed to see in woman that which inspires the poet, the painter, the hero, to do their best. He took the Asiatic view of woman. "Can man be free," sang Shelley, "if woman be a slave?" Suppose Jesus had said that! The bible is on the whole very unfair to woman. This is a sign of its inferior morality. It is the bully who takes advantage of the physically weak. When, in the Garden of Eden, God is about to punish the first couple for their disobedience, he is much less considerate of the woman than he is of the man. "In the sweat of thy face shalt thou eat bread," is the curse for Adam. That was not a curse at all. Labor is not only honorable, it is also pleasureable. Many work who do not have to--they work, not from pressure, but from pleasure. Many who retire from business do so with regret. It is indolence that is a curse. The divine curse against the serpent is even milder. He is told to walk upon his belly for the rest of his life--a change of locomotion was his punishment. But when Jehovah curses the woman, he shows,--I was going to say,--the effect of his Asiatic training. "Unto the woman he said, I will greatly multiply thy sorrow and thy conception; in sorrow shalt thou bring forth children; and thy desire shall be to thy husband, and he shall rule over thee."[3] [3] Genesis III:16. "I will greatly multiply thy sorrow." And why? Is it because she is stronger and can therefore endure more suffering than the man? Why should she be struck a heavier and a more crushing blow? And observe that she is cursed in the act which constitutes the greatest and most heroic service a woman renders to the human race,--the giving birth to children. The pain of child-bearing is to be henceforth, says the deity, very much more painful. Well may we blush for Jehovah. If there is a divine moment in human life, it is when a woman becomes a mother. All the tenderness, the love, the gentleness, the devotion, the sweetness, and the compassion, of which we are capable, will not be enough to outweigh the suffering a woman endures to give life and light to a new being. And think of choosing this delicate and helpless moment to strike at her! And this is the being who has sent his son to save _us_! But who shall save Jehovah? "And thy desire shall be to thy husband, and he shall rule over thee." At the threshold of life she is sold into slavery. She is not given to Adam--to share with him the dignity of humanity, the duties and rights of life,--but to be his creature. Suppose Jehovah had said: "A woman is as much a human being as a man, and because of her physical weakness, I shall charge myself to be her special protector and friend until man shall have advanced sufficiently in culture and civilization to do full justice to her." Ah, if Jehovah had only said _that_! In the Episcopal and Catholic marriage services, to this day, the wife is asked to promise to obey her husband. And this is the religion that pretends to be just and impartial to women. From the silence of Jesus on this subject, in a country and at a time when woman's condition was deplorable, and where the curse with which she had been cursed had really taken effect,--as well as from the few words he said about marriage,--Jesus shows his utter incapacity to tear himself from his Asiatic environment, or to rise to the nobler ideals of an advancing civilization. Again, in the light of his belief in a world soon to disappear, it becomes clear why Jesus ignored such subjects, for instance, as education, art and politics. There is not a word in all the sayings and sermons of Jesus about schools, or the acquisition of knowledge of nature and its laws. He does not devote a single thought to the education of children. Not once does he denounce ignorance, which is the mother of all abominations. In the age in which he lived, ignorance was the most abundant as well as the worst crop his own country raised. And yet, Jesus had absolutely nothing to say against it. It would take time to conquer knowledge, and the time was too short. Moreover, in the world to come, such knowledge would be superfluous. What wisdom the believers needed would be given to them miraculously, even as God rained down manna in the desert to the children of Israel. This idea that everything, even our daily bread, is _given_ to us, not acquired by us, explains also why Jesus ignored the subject of labor--the great transformer that transforms the world's waste places into gardens and its swamps into flourishing cities. "Consider the lilies of the fields," argues Jesus, with a suggestion of poetry in his usually severe and solemn speech,--"they toil not, neither do they spin,"--from which it is to be inferred that, if the lilies can be so fair and flourishing without toil or labor, so can man, if he will only put his trust in God. The kingdom of heaven which is to take the place of this world when it has been burned down to ashes, is not an evolution, or a growth out of present conditions, but it is a totally different order, and is to be introduced suddenly and by miracle. This idea makes human labor unnecessary. Hence, the advice of Paul to the slave, not to seek his freedom, and that of Jesus, to let the tares grow up with the wheat. It is not by any effort on our part; it is not by human science or labor, but by magic, that is to say, by some unknown, mysterious and sudden manner--like the thief at night, that the kingdom of God is to come. Little things as well as great issues, Jesus would have us leave to providence. Therefore his warning: Take no thought for the morrow. In other words labor is necessary for those people only who have no Father in heaven who takes notice of even the falling sparrow. But the believer has only to cast his net into the sea and fishes with pearls in their mouths will help him pay for his wants. Faith will not only move mountains, but it can make a single loaf of bread to satisfy the hunger of thousands. In fact, a miracle-worker like Jesus could not consistently recommend labor, which means application of means to ends. Jesus was a magician. Morality is a Science. But let us now consider Jesus' answers to special problems presented to him by many of his hearers for solution. You know the story of the rich young man who came to Jesus to ask him the way to eternal life. "Keep the ten commandments," Jesus told him. But when the youth answered that he was already doing that, Jesus said, "If thou wilt be perfect, sell all that thou hast and give it to the poor and thou shalt have treasure in heaven." I am not surprised that the young man went away disappointed. What is there in poverty to entitle a man to eternal life? Is it not a perverse doctrine that associates beggary with moral perfection? Why should the mendicant be the pet of heaven. If you give all that you have to the poor, you will have to depend upon charity for your living,--or starve. And where will the charity come from, if all men were to follow the advice of Jesus and cultivate poverty? But wealth means life, it means enjoyment of the world and exuberance of spirits, which things Jesus dreads. Poverty means lassitude, asceticism, low vitality, prostration and weariness of life,--which things Jesus considered essential to the _destruction_ of the world, which he hoped for. It is only for this world, however, that Jesus believes in poverty. In the next, his followers will receive a hundred-fold for every sacrifice made. They will be given thrones, crowns, jeweled streets to walk in--and mansions of pure gold in which they will drink of the fruit of the vine. Heaven, in the opinion of Jesus, is like a bank which pays ten thousand per cent for every privation suffered in this world. The most pronounced commercialism even is not so extravagant as that. The heaven of Jesus is more materialistic than this world. It is often claimed that this doctrine of Jesus was a great comfort to the unfortunate, who were given something to look forward to. If they were poor, here, they could hope to be rich there. It is true to a great extent that Christianity won its way into the hearts of the masses by flattering them. "Unto the poor the Gospel is preached," said Jesus. And what was its message to them?--You have lost this world, but the next will be yours. In my opinion this promise, while it sounds big, is a very empty one. It taught the poor to submit to oppression, instead of inspiring them to rebellion against injustice. Jesus did not tell the truth when he said that poverty, hunger, ignorance, misery, were _blessed_. You are also familiar with the story of the men who came to Jesus to ask him whether they should pay tribute to Caesar? Instead of giving to this question a direct answer, Jesus resorts to quibbling--He asks for a coin, and when one is presented, "Whose is the superscription," he asks. "Caesar's," is the answer. "Render unto Caesar that which is Caesar's," commands Jesus. But one moment: Is a coin Caesar's because his superscription is upon it? Is it not rather the property of the man who has earned it by his labor? Shall Caesar claim everything that he can put his stamp upon? Was not Jesus recommending the blind worship of force when he told them to respect Caesar's name? Suppose, instead of evading the question, or attempting a _smart_ answer to it, Jesus had calmly and clearly explained to them that no government, be it human or divine, is just, which is not based upon the consent of the governed. Ah, if Jesus had only said _that_. But he also tells us to "Give unto God the things that belong to God." God and Caesar! Behold the two masters, from neither of which did Jesus deliver man. And how do we give unto God the things that belong to God? If we give it to the priests, will it reach God--and how much of it will reach him? Moreover, if we are to tell the things that belong to Caesar by the stamp upon them, how are we to tell the things that belong to God? And how did the deity come to let Caesar in as a partner? And what will there be left for us after God and Caesar have had each his share? It is difficult to understand how the robust occidental can find any moral uplift or guidance in so whimsical a piece of advice. Jesus was asked a great question, the question of political autonomy and international law, but he gave to it a trifling answer. Let us take another example. I have more than once called your attention to the story of the thief on the cross. There were really two of them. To one of them Jesus promised paradise. What became of the other? Both men were malefactors, but one of them believed in Jesus and became a saint at the last moment. Can anything be more immoral? Can anything be more arbitrary or fatalistic? If we wished to show that it made no difference how people lived, and that the only thing that saves is faith, which is as effective at the eleventh hour as at the first--we could not have invented a better argument than is furnished by this story in the gospels. Observe that the man magically saved, as this malefactor was, becomes meaner and more selfish after he is converted than he was before. He imagines that God is just waiting yonder to welcome him, and that heaven is being put in order for his reception,--while his crime sinks into a mere nothing in his eyes. Like the thief on the cross, he has not a single thought of his victims--not a single pang of remorse for the suffering he has caused. Conversion has made him callous. Whether his victims are saved or damned, he does not care. All his thoughts are centered upon his own future happiness and glory. But suppose the thief on the cross had said to Jesus when the latter invited him to paradise: "But, what about my victims, Lord? The men and women and children I have ruined and sent to their doom! How can I be happy in heaven, with my victims in hell--to whom I gave no chance in the last hour to believe and be saved? Hanging on the same cross with you, Lord, has made my heart a little more tender, and has awakened my conscience. I have become a better man since I met you. Let me then go where I can atone in some real way for my crimes. Let my heaven consist in serving the people I have wronged, until we can be saved together." If Jesus had only provoked _that_ for a reply from the converted thief! Compare with this puffed-up vanity and meanness of the malefactor converted by miracle, the glorious behavior of Othello in the presence of death. Jesus' company made the thief on the cross contemptible; Shakespeare's touch made Othello divine. As he is about to leap into the arms of death, Othello is not thinking of his soul, or of his future; his one and only thought is of his victim. He does not whine in the ears of heaven, nor does he beg to be saved from the punishment he deserves. He is no coward trying to sneak into heaven while his Desdemona lies in her blood at his feet. Listen to the words the great poet speaks by his mouth: Whip me, ye devils, From the possession of this heavenly sight! Blow me about in winds! Roast me in sulphur! Wash me in steep-down gulfs of liquid fire! No vision of heaven, no thought of glory for himself, can tempt Othello to forget his crime. He prefers hell for himself as the only thing with which his awakened conscience can be calmed. That is the way to be converted! The Christian doctrine of forgiveness is the doctrine of license. Jesus commands us to forgive "seventy times seven." He does not seem to realize that the more accommodating we are to the criminal, the more we sap the foundations of morality. "Judge not," says Jesus, "that ye be not judged." That is very queer advice. We are not to see wrong or crime in others lest they should find the same in us. It is the religion of a guilty conscience--which abstains from criticising lest his own faults should be exposed. "You say nothing about me and I'll agree to say nothing about you," is a conspiracy to defeat justice. "For with what judgment ye judge ye shall be judged," continues Jesus. Not at all. If a man has slandered you, must you slander him? If you have been robbed, must you rob in return? Do you have to judge another with the same prejudice, bigotry and malice with which he judges you? And must you refrain from passing any righteous judgments from fear of being misjudged or misunderstood by the world? Were we to follow this false teaching, we would be giving crime a free sway,--with every tongue tied against it. But did not Jesus say "Love one another," and is not that enough? If it were enough, the past twenty centuries would have been centuries of peace and brotherhood. Instead, they have been centuries of war and persecution. The world is in need of a Jesus who can _make_ people love. If Jesus has this power--why is Europe still armed to the teeth? I do not deny the good intentions of Jesus. I question his _power_. He has not even succeeded in making his own followers, Catholics and Protestants, to love one another. Christianity has had a good, long chance to show results. A religion which is split up into an ever-increasing number of sects is not going to bring about unity and brotherhood. "He that believeth not shall be damned," and "depart from me ye cursed," takes from the rose of love both petals and perfume, and leaves only the thorns. But Jesus also said "Love your enemies." The advice of Confucius to "love our benefactors and to be just to our enemies," is more sensible. It is neither practical nor desirable to love one's enemies. Can we love the slanderer, the oppressor, the murderer? If our "enemy" is not all this, he is not an enemy. But we can be just to the people who are mean, deceitful, spiteful or pitiless toward us. Did Jesus love his enemies? Why then was not Judas saved? And why did he say to his disciples that for the people who rejected them there awaited the awful fate of Sodom and Gomorrah? But did not Jesus pray for his murderers on the cross? Was his prayer answered? If there is any truth in history, the Jews have suffered for their supposed participation in the tragedy of Calvary more than words can describe. I have always thought that the prayer, "Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do," was put in Jesus' mouth, at the last moment, for a theatrical effect. If the atonement was one of the eternal decrees of God, the people who put Jesus to death were only carrying it out. If, however, knowing that Jesus was a God, they, nevertheless, wanted to kill him, they must have been imbeciles to suppose a God could be murdered safely; but if they did not know the truth and committed the crime ignorantly, they were not forgiven for it, and the bible describes the fearful punishment prepared for them. Another much commended saying of Jesus is the following: "Inasmuch as ye have done it unto the least of these, ye have done it unto me." This has been interpreted as a command to help and succor even the poorest of the poor. I admire the thought. I applaud the generosity. But would it not have been grander, if Jesus, instead of saying, "ye have done it unto me," had said, "ye have done it unto Humanity." "For my sake" is not so large and noble as "for Humanity's sake." One of my neighbor preachers said the other day that he loved the poor and the lost "because Jesus loved them." Then, it was _Jesus_ he loved, and not his fellows. Evidently he would not love them, if Jesus did not. What would become of this preacher's interest in his fellowmen, should he ever lose his faith in Christ? That explains why people often say that without religion there can be no morality. We desire a morality that can outlive all the gods. Christ or no Christ,--can we still be kind and just and compassionate toward the weak and the unfortunate? "If you take Jesus Christ out of the world, the world's a carcass, and man's a disaster," cries the preacher at the top of his voice. Of course. If everything is to be done for Jesus' sake, what will become of morality, civilization or humanity with Jesus dropped out? We need no better excuse for summoning all our energies to combat a religion that commits the destinies of our world to the keeping of one man,--and he, in all probability,--a myth.[4] [4] Read the author's _The Truth About Jesus--Is He a Myth?_ Let us recapitulate: Jesus taught a magical, not a scientific morality. It was by being born of "water and the Holy Ghost," whatever that might mean, and not by intellectual and moral effort, that people were to be saved. He placed the creed above the deed, and himself above humanity. "Believe in me, do good for my sake," gives to morality a sectarian stamp, or taint, which is bound to corrupt it. Morality is born of liberty. Christianity is the religion of absolutism, in which Jesus or God is everything, and man a mere puppet. Christianity denies to man the right to reason. He must only obey. There is no morality where there is no liberty. By his doctrine of an impending catastrophe, a future hell, and by his promises of fabulous wealth and glory beyond--Jesus helped to disturb and distort the judgment of the weak and the fearful, preventing thereby the cultivation of sane thoughts of life. The morality of Jesus was the morality of panic. And what do we offer in place of supernaturalism, whether it be Christianity, Judaism, Mohammedanism, Brahmanism, or any other "ism"? In place of magic or miracle, we offer science; in place of "belief," we offer knowledge--the open light of day and the unhampered interchange of human love and thought. In place of Christ or God--both absent, and neither dependent upon anything we can do for him--we offer Humanity, forever at our side, and in daily need of our bravest service and most unstinted love. THE STORY OF MY MIND OR HOW I BECAME A RATIONALIST _Price, Fifty Cents_ ¶ In this latest publication of the Independent Religious Society, M. M. Mangasarian describes his religious experience--how, starting as a Calvinist, a graduate of Princeton Theological Seminary, and a pastor of the Spring Garden Presbyterian Church in Philadelphia, he thought and fought his way up to =RATIONALISM= ¶ The book contains a dedication to "My Children," in which the author says: "I am going to put the story in writing, that you may have it with you when I am gone, to remind you of the aims and interests for which I lived, as well as to acquaint you with the most earnest and intimate period in my career as a teacher of men." _ORDER THROUGH_ THE INDEPENDENT RELIGIOUS SOCIETY ORCHESTRA HALL BUILDING CHICAGO 
40460	----	Hurlbut's Life of Christ For Young and Old [Illustration: Coming to Jerusalem these strangers asked of every one whom they met: "Can you tell us where to find the little child who is born to be the King of the Jews?"] HURLBUT'S LIFE OF CHRIST FOR YOUNG AND OLD A COMPLETE LIFE OF CHRIST WRITTEN IN SIMPLE LANGUAGE, BASED ON THE GOSPEL NARRATIVE BY REV. JESSE LYMAN HURLBUT, D.D. _Author of "Hurlbut's Story of the Bible" Former Editor International Sunday-School Lessons_ ILLUSTRATED With Colored Plates and Full Page Halftone Reproductions from the Paintings of WILLIAM HOLE, R.S.A., R.E., and other artists. Also including Maps and Photographs of the Holy Land. PHILADELPHIA THE JOHN C. WINSTON COMPANY PUBLISHERS Copyright, MCMXV, by L. T. MYERS PRINTED IN THE U.S.A. HUNDREDTH THOUSAND EDITION Preface IN the preparation of this volume the aim in view has been to tell the story of Jesus Christ in a manner that will be attractive to both young and old, to children and their teachers. While the purpose of the writer has been to adapt the narrative to the understanding of a child of ten years, so that he will not need to ask the meaning of a sentence or a word: yet it has also been his desire to make it not childish, but simple, so that older readers may find it interesting and profitable. In order that this book may not lead its younger readers or listeners away from the Bible, but directly toward it, no imaginary scenes or conversations have been introduced. The design has been to write the biography of Jesus, not a romance founded upon his life. The order of events has been carefully considered; and follows that of the best authorities, accepting as historical _all_ the four gospels and _all_ their contents; raising no questions concerning miracles or the relative values of different portions of the record. The first purpose of every student or reader of the Bible, whether young or old, should be to become thoroughly familiar with its contents. Without a full knowledge of the Scriptures as they are, he is absolutely unfit to cope with the questions of authorship or the credibility of the sacred writings. No attempt has been made to formulate from the record of Christ's life a doctrinal system. Theology is the loftiest study for the human intellect; but it belongs to the mature mind, not to the realm of childhood. Nor has it been the writer's aim to find in this story moral lessons for the young. The works and words of Jesus will make their own application to their reader, whether they be children or adults. The typography, the illustrations, and the mechanical execution of such a work as this are of almost equal importance with its literary material. All that diligent effort, artistic taste, and abundant resources can do to make this book attractive and helpful to its readers, has been done by the Publishers. That this volume may awaken a new interest in that Life of lives, which has brought the light of life to untold millions since it was lived upon the earth: that the children of this generation, who are to become the pillars of the coming years, may learn to love and follow Him who is the Elder Brother and Saviour of us all, is the prayer of the author of these pages. Jesse Lyman Hurlbut August 28, 1915. Contents PAGE PREFACE 3 WHY EVERYBODY SHOULD KNOW THE STORY OF JESUS 9 CHAPTER 1. THE LORD'S LAND 17 2. THE PEOPLE IN THE LORD'S LAND 24 3. THE STRANGER BY THE GOLDEN ALTAR 31 4. THE ANGEL VISITS NAZARETH 37 5. A YOUNG GIRL'S JOURNEY 45 6. THE BOY WHO NEVER TASTED WINE 50 7. THE CHILD-KING IN HIS CRADLE 55 8. THE BABY BROUGHT TO THE TEMPLE 63 9. THE FOLLOWERS OF THE STAR 66 10. SAFE IN EGYPT 73 11. A CHILD'S LIFE IN NAZARETH 77 12. THE BOY LOST AND FOUND 85 13. THE YOUNG WOODWORKER 93 14. THE VOICE BY THE RIVER 97 15. THE CARPENTER LEAVES HIS SHOP 103 16. ALONE IN THE DESERT 107 17. THE EARLIEST FOLLOWERS OF JESUS 115 18. THE WATER TURNED TO WINE 121 19. THE LORD IN HIS TEMPLE 127 20. AT THE OLD WELL 132 21. THE NOBLEMAN'S BOY 139 22. THE CARPENTER IN HIS HOME-TOWN 143 23. FOUR FISHERMEN CALLED 149 24. JESUS IN THE CHURCH, IN THE HOUSE, AND IN THE STREET 153 25. THE LEPER AND THE PALSIED MAN 157 26. HOW THE TAX-COLLECTOR BECAME A DISCIPLE 163 27. THE CRIPPLE AT THE BATH 167 28. THE LORD OF THE SABBATH 171 29. JESUS ON THE MOUNTAIN 175 30. THE GOOD ARMY CAPTAIN 181 31. HOW JESUS STOPPED A FUNERAL 183 32. THE SINFUL WOMAN FORGIVEN 189 33. JESUS AND HIS ENEMIES 192 34. THE STORY-TELLER BY THE SEA 195 35. MORE STORIES TOLD BY THE SEA 199 36. SAILING ACROSS THE SEA 205 37. THE SICK WOMAN MADE WELL, AND THE DEAD GIRL BROUGHT TO LIFE 211 38. SIGHT TO THE BLIND AND VOICE TO THE DUMB 216 39. TWELVE PREACHERS SENT OUT 218 40. A DANCE; AND HOW IT WAS PAID FOR 223 41. THE BOY WITH HIS FIVE LOAVES 227 42. HOW THE SEA BECAME A FLOOR 233 43. THE BREAD OF LIFE 235 44. JESUS IN A STRANGE COUNTRY 239 45. IN THE LAND OF THE TEN CITIES 242 46. AGAIN ON THE SEA OF GALILEE 246 47. THE GREAT CONFESSION 249 48. THE VISION ON THE MOUNTAIN 255 49. THE BOY WITH THE DUMB SPIRIT 259 50. THE LAST VISIT TO CAPERNAUM 262 51. GOOD-BYE TO GALILEE 267 52. PASSING THROUGH SAMARIA 271 53. THE SCRIBE'S QUESTION; AND MARY'S CHOICE 275 54. JESUS AT THE FEAST OF TENTS 281 55. JESUS AND THE SINFUL WOMAN 285 56. THE BLIND MAN AT THE POOL OF SILOAM 290 57. THE GOOD SHEPHERD 296 58. SENDING OUT THE SEVENTY 300 59. LAZARUS CALLED OUT OF HIS TOMB 303 60. JESUS PREACHING IN PEREA 311 61. IN THE CHURCH AND AT THE FEAST 317 62. ON COUNTING THE COST 321 63. SEEKING THE LOST 324 64. THE PARABLE OF THE LOST SON FOUND 328 65. THE PARABLE OF THE DISHONEST STEWARD 333 66. A PARABLE FOR THE LOVERS OF MONEY 336 67. TWO PARABLES UPON PRAYER 339 68. THE LITTLE CHILDREN; AND THE RICH YOUNG MAN 341 69. THE WORKERS IN THE VINEYARD 346 70. THE BLIND MAN AT THE GATE 351 71. IN THE RICH MAN'S HOME AT JERICHO 353 72. THE ALABASTER JAR 357 73. PALM SUNDAY 362 74. MONDAY ON THE MOUNT AND IN THE TEMPLE 367 75. TUESDAY MORNING IN THE TEMPLE 371 76. THREE PARABLES OF WARNING 375 77. THE HEAD ON THE COIN 379 78. THE WOMAN WITH SEVEN HUSBANDS 382 79. THE GREATEST OF ALL THE COMMANDMENTS 385 80. THE GREATEST GIFT; AND THE STRANGERS FROM AFAR 388 81. JESUS TELLING OF DARK DAYS TO COME 391 82. THE PARABLE OF THE TEN BRIDESMAIDS 395 83. THE PARABLE OF THE TALENTS 398 84. THE LAST GREAT DAY 402 85. WASHING THE DISCIPLES' FEET 405 86. THE LORD'S SUPPER 410 87. THE VINE AND THE BRANCHES 412 88. THE LAST WORDS OF JESUS TO HIS DISCIPLES 416 89. IN THE GARDEN OF GETHSEMANE 421 90. JESUS BEFORE ANNAS 427 91. JESUS BEFORE CAIAPHAS 431 92. JESUS BEFORE THE ROMAN GOVERNOR 439 93. JESUS BEFORE HEROD 442 94. JESUS SENTENCED TO DEATH 445 95. JESUS LED TO CALVARY 453 96. JESUS ON THE CROSS 459 97. THE TOMB IN THE GARDEN 465 98. THE RISEN CHRIST AND THE EMPTY TOMB 469 99. JESUS AND MARY MAGDALENE 475 100. A WALK WITH THE RISEN CHRIST 479 101. TWO SUNDAY EVENINGS WITH THE RISEN CHRIST 483 102. THE BREAKFAST BY THE SEA 487 103. JESUS RISING UP FROM EARTH TO HEAVEN 493 Why Everybody Should Know the Life of Christ THERE HAVE been many famous men in this world, and every one wishes to know who they were and why they are called great. In almost every city in America may be seen a statue of George Washington, or Abraham Lincoln, or Benjamin Franklin, or General Lee, or General Grant. Whenever you see one of these statues, you ask--if you do not know already--who this man was and why his statue has been set up. In Canada, every house has on the wall a portrait of the great and good Queen Victoria, and when a child sees it he wishes to know something of her life and her greatness. You see pictures of a man standing on the deck of a ship, or going ashore under palm trees on an island, and are told that he is Christopher Columbus--and every child in America knows something of his story. Men like Napoleon Bonaparte, and Julius Caesar, and Alexander the Great, are written about, and talked about; and every child should know who these men were and why they are famous. Did you ever think that there is one man who has been talked about, and written about, and sung about, more than any other man in all the world; and that man is Jesus? For one book telling of Washington, or Napoleon, or Columbus, there are hundreds of books telling of Jesus. Every year at least fifteen million copies of the Bible are printed and sent out into the world, in every language spoken on this earth. Why does everybody wish to have a Bible in his house? It is because that book tells of Jesus. If the pages that tell of Jesus should be torn out of the Bible, few people would care to have it or to read it. There are more portraits of Jesus Christ, painted and drawn and printed, than of any other man who has ever lived. Everybody knows the picture of Jesus as soon as he sees it, whether it be of the baby Jesus in his mother's arms, or the boy Jesus in the Temple, or the Saviour teaching, or dying upon the cross. You do not need to be told which one in any picture is Jesus--his face is so well known that you know it at once. No other face among all the men who have ever lived from Adam the first man down to today, is known to as many people as the face of Jesus. Then, too, look in the hymn books of the churches and the song books of the Sunday-schools, and see how many of the hymns and songs are in praise of Jesus Christ. You do not find songs in praise of Julius Caesar, nor of Christopher Columbus, nor even of George Washington. No one who gives it thought doubts that the most famous man in all the world is Jesus Christ; and because he is so famous and so great, every one should know something of his life. Then, too, everybody likes to hear stories of wonderful things. Even though we know that they are not true stories, every one listens to fairy tales and the stories of the "Arabian Nights." But how often, when the story is ended, the child looks up to the story-teller's face and says, "Is it all true?" Now, the story of Jesus is full of wonders. You read of his turning water into wine when the guests at the feast needed it, of his touching the eyes of a blind man and giving him sight, of his speaking to the storm and bringing peace, of his walking upon the waters in another storm to help his friends in danger, and, most wonderful of all, of his coming out of his own tomb living, after he had died. Wonderful indeed are the stories told of Jesus; and the greatest wonder is that they are all true. You would like to hear those stories, I am sure; and every child should know them and be able to tell them to others. Let me give you another reason why every one should know the story of Jesus. He came to show us who God is, what God is to us, and how God feels toward us. Every one, even every child, thinks of God and in his heart wishes to know about God. How terribly some people have mistaken God! They have thought of him as an enemy, not as a friend. You can see in some countries images of a person with forty arms, and on every hand something to kill a man with--a sword, a spear, an arrow, a club, a cup of poison, or some other fearful thing--and that is the thought of God in that land: a mighty being who hates men! In old times, many people thought that their gods were pleased when men killed their own children and burned their bodies on an altar as an offering to God. God saw all over the earth that men had wrong and cruel thoughts of him; and he sent his Son Jesus Christ to teach men by his words, and to show men in his life what God is, how God feels toward us, and how we should feel toward God. If Jesus had done no more for us than to teach us the Lord's Prayer, beginning with the words "Our Father who art in heaven," he would have done enough to make us love him. He showed people that God is their Father, the Father of every one in all the world, and that as a Father we may call upon him, just as any child can go to his father for whatever he needs. There was once an artist who was called upon to paint the portrait of a good man. But the man had died ten years before; the artist had never seen him, and there was no picture of him to be used as a copy. At first the artist did not know what to do. Then a thought occurred to him. "Is there no one," he said, "who looks like this man, so that I can see him and know something of the man's face?" "Why, yes," they answered. "He has left a son, a man grown, who looks exactly like his father." The artist studied the face of the son, and from it painted a likeness of the father, whom he had never seen. No one has ever seen God, but if we would know, not his face, which we cannot know, but his nature, how kind, and loving, and helpful, and willing God is, we have only to think of Christ; and if we know Christ, the Son of God, we know God, his Father and our Father. For this reason, because in Jesus we may know God, everybody should know about Jesus. But Jesus came to this world, not only to show us what God is, but to show us what we should be and how we should live. Whatever his work may be, every one needs a copy which he can look at and follow. The child who is learning to write must have a copy, so that he may know how to shape his letters. The boy or girl learning to draw has a copy or a model to guide him in his drawing. When a man is about to build a ship, he first makes a model and then shapes his great ship exactly like it. Perhaps you have heard the lines in Longfellow's poem, "The Building of the Ship." "In the shipyard stood the Master, With the model of the vessel That should laugh at all disaster, And with wave and whirlwind wrestle." Well, we are all builders. Each one of us, boy or girl, man or woman, is building for himself what no one else can build for him: his character, what he is to be, whether good or bad, whether wise or ignorant, whether noble or selfish. And in building up ourselves we need a model, one perfect man, on whom we can look and whose life we can copy. That model we can find in Jesus. He lived our life, and in living showed us how we should live. Even a little child may say, "Jesus was once a little child; and I will try my best to be just such a child as he was." A boy of twelve may think of Jesus as a boy and resolve to live as Jesus lived. The young man, working in a shop, or office, or in the field, may take Jesus the workingman for his pattern. When Jesus was on the earth, he said many times, and to different people, "Follow me!" He says it to every one of us. But if we are to follow Jesus and to be like him, the best man that ever lived, we must study him, must know about his life, must have every story of him in our mind and in our heart; and that is another reason why every one should know the story of Jesus. It is now almost two thousand years since Jesus lived on the earth and walked among men. Since he came, the world has become a different world, just as far as they have heard the story of Jesus and have learned to follow him. People have become less selfish and more thoughtful of others, more willing to help others, more generous in giving to others. Think of all the homes for the poor, of all the hospitals for the sick, of all the places where little children are cared for, of the playgrounds, of the love shown at Christmas time, of ten thousand ways in which the world is better. And then remember that all these good things come from Jesus Christ and his love in the hearts of men. But for Jesus, this would have been a dark world. The proof of this is that these good things are to be seen only in the lands where Jesus is known and loved and followed. Look at the lands where Christ is unknown and you find them dark and sad. There is still much to be done to make this a perfect world. We see terrible wars, and the poor still suffering wrong, and many people still selfish and cruel to their fellow-men. What can we do to make this a better and a brighter world? We can do as Jesus did. It was said of him, "He went about doing good"; and that may be said of us if we will follow Christ. But to make this world good, we must know him who is its power for goodness; and that is another reason why every one should know the story of Jesus. Let me name only one reason more why we should know the story of Jesus: through him we have what we need most of all--the forgiveness of our sins. Suppose that someone who watches us all the time should keep a list of every wrong-doing, of every fiery temper, of every angry word, of every blow struck, of every time that one of us failed to do what is right, of every time that one let pass a chance to do some good act to another--what a long list it would be! There is such a list kept. An eye that never sleeps sees every act, the eye of God; and he remembers all our deeds, and the things left undone which we ought to have done. Is there any way to have that list against us taken away, blotted out and forgotten? Yes, there is one who can take our sins away and make the black story of our life as white as snow. That one is Jesus Christ, the Son of God. He can forgive our sins, as he forgave the sins of men while he was on the earth; and he longs to have us ask him for forgiveness. Should we not love him for this? And should we not wish to hear about him and to know all the tender story of his love? These, then, are some of the reasons why we should all seek to know the story of Jesus: because he is the greatest and most famous man that ever lived; because his story is full of interest and full of wonders, and is true; because he came to show us how kind and loving God is, and how willing to have us call upon him; because his life shows us a pattern of what we may be and tells us how we may be like him; because Jesus has made and is still making the world better, and brighter, and happier, wherever he is known; and best of all, because through Jesus our Saviour our sins may be forgiven and taken away, and we may be pure and holy as Jesus was upon the earth. With these thoughts and aims, this Story of Jesus has been written. May it help many, young and old, to know Jesus better, to love him more, and to follow him more closely! [Illustration: PALESTINE IN THE TIME OF CHRIST Copyright 1911, by W. A. Wilde & Co.] The Lord's Land CHAPTER 1 FIRST OF ALL, let us take a journey to the land where Jesus lived. We will sail in one of the big ocean steamers across the Atlantic, heading our prow a little to the south, and in eight days will pause at the Rock of Gibraltar, which stands on guard at the gate of the Mediterranean Sea. Do you know what "Mediterranean" means? It means, "among the lands"; and when you look at this sea on the map, you see that it has lands around it on every side, with only a narrow opening at Gibraltar, where its blue waters pour into the Atlantic Ocean. We will enter the Mediterranean Sea, and sail its entire length, past Spain and France and Italy on the left. We just miss touching the toe of Italy, for you know Italy runs into the sea like a great leg with a high-heeled boot upon its foot. And just beyond Italy we sail by Greece, which looks somewhat like a hand with fingers wide apart. While we are passing by these lands on the left, we are also sailing past Morocco and Algiers, and Tunis and Tripoli on the right. We stop at Alexandria in Egypt, at one of the mouths of the river Nile, and soon after we leave the big steamer at Port Said, where the great Suez Canal begins. There in the afternoon about ten days after our leaving America, we go on board a smaller ship, and sail northward past the eastern shore of the Mediterranean Sea. The next morning we awake to find our ship at anchor in front of a city on a hillside, rising up in terraces from the water. That city is now called Jaffa, or Yafa; and it is the place where the steamers stop to send ashore those who are about to visit the Holy Land, for that is the name given to the land where Jesus lived. Do you remember in the Old Testament the story of Jonah, the prophet who tried to run away from God's call to preach in the city of Nineveh? Well, it was from this city of Jaffa, then called Joppa, that Jonah started on his voyage, which ended inside the big fish. Perhaps you remember also the story of Dorcas, in the New Testament, that good woman who helped the poor; and after dying was raised to life through the prayer of the Apostle Peter. Dorcas too lived at Joppa; and they show the house where, it is said, Peter stayed while he was visiting in that city. [Illustration: The Mediterranean Sea] Here at Jaffa or Joppa we end our long sea-voyage of about six thousand miles. We go ashore in a small boat, tossing up and down on the waves, for there is no wharf where a steamer can land its passengers. And now we are standing on the soil of the Holy Land, where Jesus lived. In Christ's time this land was called Judea. In our day its name is Palestine. It is a small country. If you will turn to the map of the United States, and look at New Hampshire, you will see a state in form quite like Palestine, and only a little smaller in size; for Palestine, or the Holy Land, contains about twelve thousand square miles, and New Hampshire a little more than nine thousand. [Illustration: There is no real harbor at Jaffa. Steamers must anchor some distance out, and passengers are landed by rowboats] From Joppa we must go across Palestine if we would look at the part of the land among the mountains where Jesus lived. We can now ride in a railroad train, something that Jesus never saw while he lived on the earth; or we can go in a carriage, or on a horse, or on the back of a camel, as you will see some people riding, or in what they call "a palankeen," which is something like a coach-body set not on wheels, but between two pair of shafts, one in front, the other behind, and a mule harnessed in each pair, so that the rider has one mule in front and the other back of him. As we ride over the land we notice that at first it is very level. This part of the country is called "the Sea Coast Plain," and a plain it surely is, almost as level as a floor. All around, you see gardens and farms, orange trees and fig trees. If you could pluck one of these golden oranges and taste it, you would find that it is one of the sweetest and richest and juiciest that you have ever eaten, for the Jaffa oranges are famous for their flavor. You ride between great fields of wheat and rye and barley, for this Sea Coast Plain is a rich farming land. [Illustration: House of Simon, the tanner, in Joppa, where Peter stayed while visiting in that city] But after a few miles, ten or fifteen, we notice that we have left the plain and are winding and climbing among hills. In place of the farm-lands, we see here and there flocks of sheep with shepherds guarding them just as the boy David watched over his flock three thousand years ago. Indeed, in our journey we might pass over the very brook where David found the round, smooth stones, one of which he hurled with a sling into the giant Goliath's forehead. This is the region of low hills, the foothills of the higher mountains beyond. It is called "the Shephelah," a name not easy to remember. In the Old Testament days, many battles were fought on these hills between the Israelites and the Philistines, their fierce enemies. [Illustration: A saddled camel] These foothills of the Shephelah are not many miles wide; and beyond them we come to the real Mountain Region of Palestine. Mountains rise on every hand, bare, stony, with scarcely any soil upon their steep sides, and with not a tree to be seen for miles. They are rocky crags, with here and there a village perched on their summits or clinging to their walls. This mountain land, more than the hills and plains below, was the home of the Israelites, the people from whom Jesus came. We wonder how they could ever have found a living in such a desolate land; but everywhere we see the ruins of old cities, showing that once the land was filled with people. In those times, two thousand and more years ago, all these mountain-sides, now bleak and rock-bound, were covered with terraces, where grew olive trees, fig trees and vineyards; where gardens blossomed and great crops were raised to feed the people. Even now in the spring and early summer, the valleys between these mountains are covered with flowers of every color. Scarcely another land on earth has as many wild flowers as this land of Palestine. This mountain-belt, running from the north to the south throughout the land was the part of Palestine where nearly all the great men of Israel lived and died. Here among the mountains in the south is Bethlehem, where Jesus was born. In a mountain village in the north, Nazareth, was the home of Jesus during nearly all his life; and over these mountains everywhere in the land, Jesus walked in the three years of his preaching and teaching. We pass over these mountains from east to west, and then from the heights we look down to a valley which runs north and south, the deepest in all the world, where we can see a little river with many windings, and rapids and falls, rolling onward to drop at last into a blue lake in the south. This river, as you know, is the Jordan, crossed by the Israelites when they first came to this land; the river where Naaman washed away his leprosy, where Elijah struck the waves with his mantle and parted them, and in whose water Jesus was baptized. We journey across this Jordan valley, from ten to twenty miles wide, and then we climb again high and steep mountains. This region is called the Eastern Table Land, because the mountains gradually sink down to a great desert plain on the east. Here we see the ruins of once great cities, where now only a few wandering Arabs pitch their tents. We have now crossed the land of Palestine, and we have found that it contains five parts lying in a line: first, the Sea Coast Plain; second, the Shephelah, or foothills; third, the Mountain Region; fourth, the Jordan valley; and fifth, the Eastern Table Land. But we must keep in mind that the land when Jesus lived there was very different from the land as we see it. Now it is a poor land; then it was rich. Now its villages are made of miserable mud-houses, where live people who look half starved; then it was a land of well-built towns and happy people. Now we find roads that are mere tracks over the stones; then there were good roads everywhere. Now the hills rise bare and rocky; then they were covered with gardens. Now scarcely a tree can be seen in miles of travel; then the olive and the vine and the palm grew everywhere. We see the land in its ruin; Jesus saw it in its riches. [Illustration: The valley of Gehenna, to the east of Jerusalem] The People in the Lord's Land CHAPTER 2 NEARLY ALL the people living in Palestine in the time of Jesus were of the Jewish race. Two thousand years before Jesus came, a great man was living in that land, named Abraham. To this man, God gave a promise that his children and their children after them for many ages should live in that land and own it. Abraham's son was named Isaac, and Isaac's son was named Jacob. All the people of Palestine had sprung from the family of Jacob, and by the time Jesus came, these descendants of Jacob, as they were called, were in number many millions, and were to be found in other lands besides Palestine; although more of them lived in Palestine than in any other land. Jacob, Abraham's grandson, was also named Israel; and on that account all the people sprung from him were called the Israelites. Jacob or Israel had twelve sons, from whom came the twelve tribes of Israel. But one son, named Judah, had more descendants or people springing from him than any other; and as most of the people in Palestine were of Judah's family, all of them were spoken of as Jews, a word which means sprung or descended from Judah. So the people to whom Jesus belonged were sometimes called Israelites, but more often Jews. They had another name, "Hebrews," but that was not used as often as the two names, Israelites and Jews. For many years, long before Jesus came, the Jews were rulers in the land of Palestine, with kings of their own race, as David and Solomon in the early times, and King Jeroboam and King Hezekiah later. But in the time of Jesus, the Jews were no longer rulers in their own land. Palestine was then a small part of the vast Roman Empire, which ruled all the lands around the Mediterranean Sea. Its chief was an emperor, who lived at Rome in Italy. At the time when Jesus was born the emperor was Augustus. He was then an old man, and died very soon after the birth of Jesus. The emperor who followed him was named Tiberius, and he ruled most of the years that Jesus was living in Palestine. [Illustration: Tiberias, on the Sea of Galilee, where Herod lived] But there was another king ruling the land of Palestine under the Roman emperor, at the time when Jesus came. His name was Herod, and because he was a very wise and strong man, although a very wicked man, he was called Herod the Great. He ruled the land of Palestine, but in his turn obeyed the orders of the emperor Augustus at Rome. Herod also was a very old man at the time of Jesus' birth, and died soon afterward. When Herod the Great died, his kingdom was divided into four parts. Each of these parts had a king of its own, and three of these kings were Herod's sons. Herod Antipas ruled over Galilee in the northwest, and Perea in the southeast; Herod Philip was over the country in the northeast; and Herod Archelaus ruled the largest portion, in the south. None of these little kings were good men. They had their father's wickedness, but did not have his ability to rule. One of them, Archelaus, was so bad that all the people asked the emperor at Rome to take his rule away. This the emperor did, and sent a man from Rome to govern the land in his place. You have heard of the Roman governor who was over this part of the land while Jesus was teaching. His name was Pontius Pilate; and he it was, you remember, who sent Jesus to die upon the cross. The land of Palestine at that time was divided into five parts, which were called "provinces." The largest of these provinces was Judea, the one on the south, between the Dead Sea and the river Jordan on the east, and the Mediterranean Sea on the west. North of Judea was a small province called Samaria, where lived a people who were not Jews but Samaritans. The Jews hated the Samaritans, and the Samaritans, in turn, hated the Jews. Samaria was governed as a part of Judea, not with a separate ruler. These were the two provinces at first under Archelaus and then under the Roman governor. In the north of Palestine, west of the river Jordan and the Sea of Galilee, was the province of Galilee, a country full of mountains, where Jesus dwelt for nearly all his life. The ruler of this province was Herod Antipas. He lived most of the time at a city which he had built beside the Sea of Galilee, and had named Tiberias, after the Roman emperor Tiberius. [Illustration: Samuel anointing Saul to be the first king of Israel] Across the Jordan, on the east, opposite to Galilee was another province. In the Old Testament times, this land had been called Bashan, which means "woodland," because it was a land of many forests. In the New Testament time it was generally spoken of as "Philip's province," because its ruler was Herod Philip, the best of Herod's sons, and none too good, either. South of Philip's province, and east of the river Jordan, was a province named Perea, a word meaning "beyond," because this region was beyond or across the river Jordan. At the time of Jesus' life, Perea was like Galilee, ruled by Herod Antipas. Once at least Jesus visited this province; and here he told the Parable of the Prodigal Son, which everybody has heard. Although the mighty Roman empire gave to the Jews in Palestine a government that was just and fair, it was not a Jewish rule; and the Jews were not contented under the power of foreigners. They felt that they more than other nations were the people of God, and that they had a right to rule themselves, under kings of their own race. Also they read in their Bible the promises of the prophets that from Israel should come forth a king, out of David's line, who should rule the world. [Illustration: A heathen idol] This great King, whom the Jews hoped for and looked for, they called "Messiah," a word in the Jews' language meaning the same as the word "Christ," which is a Greek word, meaning "the Anointed One," that is, "the King." You remember that in the Old Testament story the prophet Samuel anointed Saul to be the first king of Israel, that is, he poured oil on his head; and that afterward he chose the boy David to be the next king by the same sign. When we say "Jesus Christ," Jesus is his name and "Christ" is his title; and we mean "Jesus the King." We know that this promised King whom the Jews called Messiah was Jesus Christ who rules over the hearts of men everywhere; but the Jews thought that it meant a king like Herod or the emperor Tiberius, only better and wiser, who should live in a palace at Jerusalem, their chief city, and make all lands obey his will. This hope made the Jews very restless and unhappy under the Roman power. They were always looking for the coming of this mighty King of the Jews, who should lead them to conquer the earth. [Illustration: Interior of Jewish synagogue in Palestine] In their worship the Jews were different from all the rest of the world. Every other people had gods of wood and stone, images before which they bowed and to which they gave offerings. In all the cities of that world were temples and altars to these idols, made by the hands of men. But in the land of the Jews were no images, no idol-temples, and no offerings to man-made gods. The Jews, whether in Palestine or in other lands, worshipped the One God who was unseen, the God to whom we also pray. In their chief city, Jerusalem, was a splendid temple where God was worshipped; and in every Jewish city and town were churches, where the people met to read the Bible, to sing the psalms of David, to offer prayer to God, and to talk together about God's laws. These churches were called "synagogues," and wherever Jews lived, synagogues were to be found. The Jews looked with great contempt upon the idol-worship of other nations, and were proud of the fact that ever since the days of their father Abraham, they had worshipped only the Lord God. [Illustration: Ruins of ancient synagogue at Kefr Birim, in Galilee] The Stranger by the Golden Altar CHAPTER 3 IN THE land of Palestine one city was loved by the Jews above all other places. That was Jerusalem, the largest city in the land in the province of Judea. It was to the Jews everywhere, not only in Palestine but over all the earth, wherever Jews lived, "the holy city." From all parts of the land the people came at least once in every year, and many families, three times each year, to worship God in Jerusalem. At these great feasts, as they were called, all the roads leading to Jerusalem were thronged with travelers going up to Jerusalem for worship. And the Jews in other lands, many hundreds of miles away, even as far as Rome itself, tried at least once in their lives to visit the city. They sang about Jerusalem songs such as: "If I forget thee, O Jerusalem, Let my right hand forget her cunning; Let my tongue cleave to the roof of my mouth If I remember thee not, If I prefer not Jerusalem Above my chief joy." That which made Jerusalem a holy city was its Temple, a magnificent building on Mount Moriah, just across a valley from Mount Zion, where the larger part of the city stood. The Temple they called "The House of God," for in it the Jews believed their God made his home. In front of this Temple stood an altar, which was like a great box made of stone, hollow inside, and covered with a metal grating. Upon this altar a fire was kept burning night and day, and on the fire the priests who led in the worship of God, laid offerings of sheep and oxen, which were burned as gifts to God; while around the altar the people stood and prayed to God as the offering, which they called "a sacrifice," was burning. [Illustration: Looking up the Kedron Valley toward Mt. Moriah] Inside the Temple building were two rooms. The room in front was called "the holy place," and in it stood on one side a table covered with gold, on which lay twelve loaves of bread as an offering to God; one loaf for each of the twelve tribes of Israel. On the other side of the room stood a golden lamp-stand, with seven branches, called "the golden candlestick." At the farther end of the room stood another altar, made of gold, smaller than the great altar in front of the Temple. On this golden altar the priest offered twice each day a bowl of incense, which was made by mixing some sweet-smelling gums, frankincense and myrrh, and burning them, so that they formed a fragrant white cloud, filling the Holy Place. Beyond the Holy Place was another room called "The Holy of Holies." Into this room no one entered except the high priest, and he on only one day in the year; for this inner room was set apart for the dwelling-place of God; and the Jews believed that in this room the light of God was shining so brightly that no one could endure it. In the first Temple built by King Solomon, the Ark of the Covenant stood in the Holy of Holies. This was a chest covered with gold, within which lay the two stone tables on which the Ten Commandments were written. But the Ark of the Covenant had been lost, and in the time of which we are speaking, nothing was in the Holy of Holies except a block of marble. [Illustration: The Mosque of Omar, now on the place where the Temple once stood] One day an old priest named Zacharias was offering incense upon the golden altar in the Holy Place. He had filled the bowl, which they called a censer, with the frankincense and myrrh, and had placed in it some coals of fire from the great altar in front of the Temple. He had come into the Holy Place, bringing his censer of incense, which sent its white cloud into the air, and was just about to lay it upon the altar, when he was startled at suddenly seeing someone standing by the golden altar on the right side. Zacharias was surprised to see anyone in the room, for he knew that no one but himself had a right to be there. But he was still more surprised and filled with fear when he looked at this stranger standing by the altar. He seemed like a young man, and his face and body and clothes were bright and shining like the sun, so glorious that the old priest could not bear to look upon him. [Illustration: High Priest, altar of incense, table for shew bread, and Ark of the Covenant] At once Zacharias knew that this glorious person was an angel sent from God. He trembled with fear; his knees shook, and he could scarcely keep from falling on the floor. The angel spoke to him, gently and kindly: "Zacharias, do not be frightened. You have nothing to fear. I have come to you with good news. God has heard the prayers that you and your good wife Elizabeth have been sending up to heaven for these many years. You shall have a son, and shall call his name John. Your son when he becomes a man will bring joy and gladness to many people; for he shall be great in the sight of the Lord; and it shall be his work to make his people ready for the coming of the King for whom they have been looking so long. You must see that your son never drinks any wine or strong drink, for he is to be set apart for God, to serve God only, and to speak the word of God to the people, telling them that their King and Saviour is at hand." [Illustration: The golden candlestick] The priest was so filled with surprise and fear that he could scarcely believe what he heard. "How can these wonderful words be true?" he said. "I am an old man, and my wife is also old. We are too old now to have children. How can I believe all this?" The angel was not pleased when he saw that Zacharias doubted his word, and he said: "I am the angel Gabriel, that stands before God; and I have been sent from God to speak to you and to bring you this good news. Now, because you did not believe God's word, you shall be stricken dumb, and shall not be able to speak until my words come true and your child is born." And then the angel vanished out of sight as suddenly as he had come, and Zacharias was left alone. All this time a great crowd of people was standing outside the Temple, worshipping God while the offering was made. They wondered that Zacharias was waiting so long in the Temple; and they wondered more when he came out and they found that he could not speak. He made signs to them, trying to show them he had seen an angel, but he did not tell them what the angel had said, for that was meant for himself only and not for others. Each priest stayed for one week in the Temple and then went to his house; so after a few days Zacharias left Jerusalem and returned to his house in the southern part of the land, not far from the old city of Hebron, the place where Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, the early fathers of the Israelites, were buried. How happy Elizabeth was when her husband, by signs and by writing, told her of the angel and his promise that she should be the mother of one who was to bear the word of the Lord to the people. Such men, to whom God spoke and who spoke for God, were called "prophets." Many great prophets in past years had spoken the word of God to the Israelites, men like Samuel and Elijah and Isaiah. But more than four hundred years had passed away since the voice of a prophet had been heard in the land. Their promised son was to rise up and speak once more God's will to his people. Zacharias and Elizabeth might not live long enough to hear his voice as a prophet, but they had God's promise, and in that promise they were happy, waiting for their child to come and grow up to his great work. The Angel Visits Nazareth CHAPTER 4 FOR OUR next story we visit Nazareth, a village in Galilee, nearly seventy miles north of Jerusalem. Galilee, as we have seen, was the northern province or division of the land, lying between the river Jordan and the Great Sea. The lower part of Galilee is a great plain, called "the plain of Esdraelon," or "the plain of Jezreel," where many battles have been fought in past times. The upper part of Galilee is everywhere mountains and valleys, with villages perched on the mountain tops or clinging to their sides, and sometimes nestled in the valleys. Just where the plain ends and the mountains begin, we find a long range of steep hills. If we climb to the top of this range, on one side we see the plain stretched out, and far in the distance the Mediterranean Sea; and on the other, or northern slope of the hills, we come to the city of Nazareth. There the mother of Jesus lived as a young girl before her son was born, and there Jesus lived during most of his life. Nazareth is there still, although many of the old towns in that land have passed away; and now it is quite a city, but in the time of which we are telling it was only a village. All around it are hills. One can stand in the town and count fifteen hills and mountains, all in sight. [Illustration: Nazareth from the road to Cana] Its narrow streets climb the hills between rows of one-story white houses, many of them having a little dome on the roof. Around each roof in those times of which we are telling was a rail with posts on the corners, to prevent any one on the roof from falling off, for the flat roof was used as a place of visiting and of rest, since the house inside was dark, having no glass windows, but instead only one small hole in the wall. None of these houses had a door opening upon the street. Beside the road was a high wall, and in it a gate leading to an open court, at one end of which stood the house. In the village was one fountain, to which all the women went for water. There were no wells or pumps or pipes with water in the houses; and around the fountain might be seen in the morning a crowd of women bringing water-jars empty, and carrying them home full of water, balanced on their heads. No one often saw a man carrying a jar of water, for this was looked upon as a woman's work. In one of those small white houses of Nazareth lived a young Jewish girl named Mary. We do not know how she looked, for although many artists have made pictures of her, all have drawn or painted her as they imagined her to be, not as she was. All that we really know of Mary, we read in two of the four gospels, Matthew and Luke; and neither of these tell us anything about her early life or her family. It has been said that her father's name was Joachim and her mother's was Anna; but this is not found in either of the gospels, and we do not know whether it is true. We do know, however, that she was a pure-hearted, lovely girl, who served the God of Israel with all her heart and lived a holy life. She knew her Bible well, we are sure, for its words came readily to her lips; and she was a girl who thought much and talked but little. In those years she might have been seen often going with the other girls of the village to the fountain for water, or sitting in the women's gallery in the church, listening thoughtfully to the reading from the Bible, and with her rich young voice joining in the chanting of David's psalms. In that land girls are promised in marriage while very young, and Mary was at this time promised to be married to a man named Joseph, who was a carpenter, or, as he is called in the gospels, a worker in wood. The two families, Joseph's and Mary's, were not rich. They belonged to the working class of people, but they were not like many, wretchedly poor. They were just plain, honest, working people, able to earn a comfortable living. [Illustration: The well of the Virgin Mary, at Nazareth] [Illustration: Mary beheld the angel Gabriel suddenly beaming upon her.] Although Joseph and Mary were of the common people, they came from the noblest blood in all the land. Both were sprung from the royal line of David, the greatest of the kings of Israel, and the singer of many beautiful psalms. They lived in little one-room houses, and their hands were hard from work, but they could trace their line back to the palace where David the founder of their family dwelt. On one day Mary was alone. It may have been in her own little home, or upon its roof, where she often went for prayer, or perhaps under a tree on the hillside near the village. Just as Zacharias a few months before had seen a heavenly, gloriously-shining being in the Temple, so now Mary beheld the same angel Gabriel suddenly beaming upon her. In a sweet voice he said: "Peace be with you, Mary! You are in high favor and love, for the Lord is with you!" The voice was gentle, but the sight of this shining form filled the young girl with alarm. She knew not what to think, nor why this glorious being had come to her. But after a moment the angel went on speaking, and said: "Do not be afraid, Mary, for God has chosen you among all women for his special favor. You shall have a son; and you shall give him the name Jesus, because he shall save his people from their sins. He shall be great, and shall be called the Son of the Highest God. God shall give to him the throne and the kingdom of his father David. He shall reign forever over the people of Israel, and of his kingdom there shall be no end." The angel paused and Mary found words to speak, tremblingly and with fear: "How can all this come to me? I do not understand what it all means!" Then the angel spoke again to the troubled and frightened girl: "The Holy Spirit of God shall come to you, and the power of God shall be upon you; and therefore that holy child that is to be given you shall be called 'The Son of God.' Also, let me tell you that your cousin Elizabeth is soon to have a son in her old age. This may seem strange to you; but no word of God is without power. Every promise of God shall surely come to pass." Then Mary said: "I am the Lord's servant, and I can trust him. Let it be to me as you have spoken. I will rest without fear in the will of the Lord." Then, as suddenly as he had come, the angel vanished out of sight, and Mary was left alone. She was filled with wonder at what she had seen and heard. Any young Jewish girl to whom came the news that the words of the prophets in the Bible were now to come true, that the long-promised King of Israel was soon to be born, and that she should be his mother, would be amazed and perhaps alarmed at the message. Some girls would have talked about it, and might even be proud at such an expectation. But Mary's was a quiet nature, not apt to speak of her deepest thoughts. She felt in some way that there was no one in her home or in her village with whom she could speak of these things. She hid them silently in her heart, but thought about them day and night. [Illustration: Elizabeth greeting Mary: "Blessed, most blessed are you among women!"] A Young Girl's Journey CHAPTER 5 AFTER THE visit of the angel and the message which he had brought, Mary's mind was filled with many thoughts and her heart was full. She was only a young girl, not older than sixteen years, perhaps as young as fifteen; for if she were older she should have been already married. In that land nearly all young women are married as soon as they are sixteen years old; and very few stay unmarried. Mary felt that she must talk with somebody of all these wonderful things that had been spoken to her. We would think that her mother was the one with whom she could open her heart most freely, but we are not sure that her mother was living. And is it not true that a young girl can sometimes tell to a dear grandmother, or some other old lady who is her friend, the deep things of the heart that she may hesitate to mention even to her own mother? She thought of one who was not her grandmother, but who from her age and sweetness seemed like one. Her mind turned to Elizabeth, living far away in the south. The angel, you know, had told her that Elizabeth was also to have a child, and perhaps she would be able to understand Mary's feelings better than any other woman. Elizabeth was related to Mary. She is named in the gospel of St. Luke as Mary's cousin, though very likely they were not near, but distant relatives. Mary knew that she was wise and good, that she loved her, and being old, could give her advice. Mary made up her mind to visit Elizabeth and open her heart with her fully about what the angel had spoken to her. From Nazareth to Elizabeth's house was a long distance, in a straight line more than eighty miles, but much farther by the road which travelers from Galilee generally followed in going from the north to the south of the land. Very soon after the angel's visit, Mary left her home and began her journey southward. Of course, a young girl could not take a journey so long alone. But there were always caravans or parties going from Galilee to Jerusalem, and Mary would travel with one of those companies. A soldier would ride on a horse, a general in his chariot, and an Arab on his camel; but most men in those times walked, even on long journeys. A woman would ride on an ass, which was the animal preferred by the Jews for travel. We may think of Mary with a beating heart leaving her home in Nazareth in company with a caravan or party of people journeying to Jerusalem to attend one of the great feasts held every year in that city. Their most direct way would be over the mountains; but it would be rough and stony; up one mountain, down another, and around a third mountain, nearly all the way. Besides, this way would lead them through the country of the Samaritans, which lay between Galilee and Judea, and such was the hatred between Jews and Samaritans that it was scarcely safe for a company of Jews to go through their land. A large company would need to stop by night at some inn, and the Samaritans often shut their inns against those who were going to Jerusalem. The line of travel from Nazareth would be to go over the steep hill on the south of their village, then follow a well-trodden way eastward down to the river Jordan. There they would find a very good road built by the Romans, straight down the Jordan Valley, with mountains on either side. This they would follow about sixty miles until they came to Jericho. There they might rest for a few days; and then climb the steep path up the mountains to Jerusalem. This Jericho road was a hiding place for robbers, and it was never safe for anyone to travel it alone. But in a large company, with many men, and often a guard of soldiers, the travelers need not fear. They would easily reach Jerusalem in a week or ten days after leaving Nazareth, and might make the journey in five days if they were in haste. In Jerusalem Mary would visit with some friend. All the families in the land had friends in Jerusalem with whom they stayed while attending the great feasts, of which three were held each year; and the dwellers in Jerusalem opened their houses to the same families year after year. After the feast, Mary would find another caravan or party going home to Hebron and the villages near it, and she would travel the rest of her journey, about twenty miles, with this party. Altogether, Mary's journey, from Nazareth to Hebron, was nearly one hundred and twenty miles long. Although many people were with her all the way, she was alone in spirit, for she could speak to no one of the great thoughts which burdened her mind and her heart. At last her long journey was over. She stopped at the door of the house of Zacharias; and in a moment was clasped in the arms of Elizabeth. In some strange way God had given to Elizabeth to know all that had come to Mary. In a loud voice she said: "Blessed, most blessed are you among women! And blessed among men shall be the son born to you! High indeed is the honor mine today when the mother of my Lord comes to my home! Blessed is she that believed the angel's word, for that word shall surely come true!" In that moment Mary's feelings, long held in, broke out into song. For this young woman's soul was not only pure and tender and devout, it was the soul of a poet whose thoughts shape themselves into verse. Mary spoke and sung a song which has become famous. Someone wrote it down, and Saint Luke, who wrote the gospel, found a copy of it and gave it to the world. Everyone should read it. We give it here. MARY'S SONG My soul beholds the greatness of the Lord, And my spirit hath rejoiced in God my Saviour. For he hath looked upon his servant in my lowly state; And from this time people in all ages shall call me blessed. For he that is mighty hath done to me great things; And holy is his name. And his mercy is from age to age On those who fear him. He hath showed strength with his arm; He hath scattered the proud in the vain thoughts of their heart. He hath put down princes from their thrones, And hath lifted up those of humble state. The hungry he hath filled with good things; And the rich he hath sent empty away. He hath given help to Israel his servant That he might remember mercy As he spoke to our fathers, Toward Abraham and his children forever. For three months Mary stayed with Elizabeth in that quiet home, the old woman and the young woman, both soon to be mothers, talked together day after day. Perhaps by this time people were going to another feast in Jerusalem, and Mary found again a party of pilgrims--for that was the name that they gave to people going to Jerusalem to worship--who were returning to Galilee. She went home, comforted in spirit and made strong by her visit with Elizabeth. It was either while Mary was visiting with Elizabeth, or soon after her return to her home, that Joseph, her promised husband, began to question in his mind whether he ought to marry her. There was a strange look in her face, and he saw that she had thoughts in her mind of which she could not speak to him. He loved her deeply, and it was with sorrow that he asked himself whether they would be happy together. But one night, while he was sleeping, a dream came to Joseph. In his dream he saw an angel standing by his side. The angel said to him: "Joseph, son of David, do not be afraid to take Mary for your wife. She shall have a son; and his name shall be Jesus, for it is he that shall save his people from their sins." The word Jesus, in the language of that people, means "Saviour," and often Jesus is spoken of as "Our Saviour" because he came to take away our sins. After this message, Joseph hesitated no longer. He did as the angel had bidden him. He was married to Mary, and led her to his own home, in which was also the shop where he followed his trade as a carpenter. The Boy Who Never Tasted Wine CHAPTER 6 NOT LONG after Mary's visit, the child promised to Zacharias and Elizabeth was born. In Jewish families the coming of a child into the home was always the cause of great gladness; and the gladness was greater at the birth of this baby, because this was the first child, and the father and mother were old. All the friends of Zacharias and Elizabeth came to see them and to rejoice with them over the boy whom God had given them. "He must be named Zacharias after his father," said the visitors. "Not so," answered the mother; "he shall be named John." "Why should you give him that name?" they said. "None of your family has ever been called John." But Elizabeth insisted that her boy should bear the name John. You remember that Zacharias had been stricken dumb at the time when the angel spoke to him in the Temple. In all the months since he had not spoken a word. Nor could he hear what was said; for now they made signs, to ask him what should be the child's name. They brought him a writing table, and on it he wrote, "His name is John." So that was the name of this child of promise, just as the angel Gabriel had said. You may ask, what was a writing table? In those times paper was very scarce and high in its cost. It was used only for writing down matters that were important. For common uses, each family had a writing table, which was a board over which was spread a thin layer of wax. On this wax they marked what they wished to write, with a sharp-pointed pen of iron or steel. This kind of a pen was called a stylus. The other end of the pen was flat, like an ivory paper-cutter. After writing, they could smooth it all out again; and the wax was then ready to be used once more. Just as soon as Zacharias had written the words "His name is John," the power to hear and to speak came back to him. He began to praise God in a loud voice, and gave forth a song of rejoicing. This song was afterward written, and may be read in the gospel by St. Luke, near the end of the first chapter. [Illustration: Writing tablets] In this song, Zacharias gave thanks to God for having blessed his people and kept the promises that had been made in God's name by all the prophets of old time. The prophets, as you may know, were the good men who listened to God's words and then gave them to the people, speaking with God's power; and sometimes telling, long before the time, of great events that were to take place. They were men like Moses, who saw God face to face, and Samuel the wise ruler, and Elijah the prophet of fire, and Isaiah, who declared Christ's coming long before his day. In the Old Testament times there was always a prophet to tell the people the will of God. But since the Old Testament had been finished, almost five hundred years before this time, no prophet had stood up in Israel with the word of the Lord. Zacharias knew that this newly-born child should grow up to give God's message to the people. He said in his song: "And you, O child, shall be called the prophet of God; For you shall go before the Lord Christ, to make ready a way for him; You shall give to his people the good news of a Saviour, And the forgiveness of their sins Because of the tender mercy of God." [Illustration: John the Baptist in the desert] In the home of Zacharias and Elizabeth the baby John grew up a strong, noble boy. Very early they told him of the angel's visit, and of the command that throughout his life he was not to taste wine nor any strong drink. He was under a vow or pledge of special service for God; and one sign of his pledge was to be his not tasting wine nor even eating grapes. Another sign was in leaving his hair to grow long and never cutting it. Everyone who saw him would know by these signs that he was pledged to a life of peculiar service to God. When John became a young man he went away from his home and lived in the desert, alone with his own thoughts and with God. Very likely, his father and mother died before he went to live alone, for at the time of his birth they were old people and could not live many years. John lived upon the plainest of food, the locusts that could be gathered in the field, and were boiled, to be eaten by the poorest people. He ate also the honey made by the wild bees and stored by them in hollow trees and holes in the rocks. All those years of his young manhood, John was thinking upon the work to which God had called him, talking with God and learning God's will; so that when the time came, he could give God's message to the people. [Illustration: Plowing in Bible time] [Illustration: They sought out the inn at Bethlehem but Joseph found within its walls no place where his wife could rest after her long and wearisome ride.] The Child-King in His Cradle CHAPTER 7 FOR A FEW months after their marriage, Joseph and Mary lived in their little house at Nazareth. Joseph worked at his trade as a carpenter, while Mary cared for the home and carried the water for the needs of the house from the well in the middle of the village, walking with her jar full of water on her head. One day Joseph came home and told his wife that he had been called to go on a journey to Bethlehem, which was the town from which their family had come. Both Joseph and Mary, as we have seen, had sprung from the line of the great King David, who had been born in Bethlehem more than a thousand years before. Every one who belonged to the line of David, wherever he might be living, looked upon Bethlehem as the home-town of his family. The Emperor Augustus at Rome, who ruled over all the lands and was above Herod, the king of Judea, had given orders that a list should be made of all the families in his wide empire. He wished to lay a tax upon every family; that is, to call upon every family to pay money for the support of his officers, his army, his court; and in order to fix this tax, he must have written down the names of all the people. In our land such a list is made every ten years, and is called a census. With us, men are chosen in every city and town to go to the people where they live and make the list of their names. From all the states throughout the land, these lists are sent to one office, and there the names are arranged in order. [Illustration: Church of the Nativity, Bethlehem, said to enclose the birthplace of the Saviour] [Illustration: The shepherds came to the stable, opened the door and found just what the angel said they would see, a tiny babe lying in the manger.] But the Romans who were ruling the world at that time chose a plan for making this great list which would give themselves the least trouble, even though it gave to the people under them much more trouble, and compelled them to make long journeys. Instead of appointing in each place an officer to take the names of the people at the places where they were living, they made a law that every family must go to the city or town from which they or their fathers had come, and there give their names to the officers who were making the roll of the people. Those who were living in Jerusalem, and had come from Shechem or Joppa or Cæsarea, must journey to one of these places and there make their report; those who were living in Nazareth and had come, or their parents before them had come, from any other place, must go to their home-town, however far it might be, and in that place be enrolled or written upon the list of names. There is no reason to suppose that Mary, although herself sprung from the family of David, was compelled to make this journey to Bethlehem with her husband. The Roman laws took very little notice of women, unless they were rich women who could be taxed. Joseph could go alone to Bethlehem, and there have both their names written upon the list. But at once a thought came to Mary, and she said to her husband: "You shall not make the journey to Bethlehem alone. I will go with you." We are not told why the young wife was resolved to go with her husband on the long journey, but the reason may have been this: Mary knew that she was to have a son, and the time for his coming was now near at hand. She knew, too, that her child should be the Son of David and the King of Israel, that he was to sit on David's throne. She wished him to be born, not in the village of Nazareth in Galilee, but in David's own town of Bethlehem. He was to spring from the royal line, and she was willing to endure a hard, trying journey, and even to suffer, that her son might come from the royal city where David lived. Mary had read the books of the Old Testament, and she knew that in those books it had been written by the prophets, to whom God had spoken, that this king, whom they called Messiah and Christ, should be born in Bethlehem. These were the reasons that made Mary decide so quickly to go with her husband on his journey to Bethlehem, the city of their fathers. So Joseph locked up his carpenter's shop and set his wife upon an ass, and with a staff walked beside her, over the mountain and down the valley to the river Jordan, and thence following the river, over the Roman road, the same long road that Mary had taken in the caravan or company of pilgrims some months before. Joseph had been over that road many times, going up every year to the feasts at Jerusalem, so that he knew all the places which they passed, and could tell Mary stories of their people and the great events which had taken place on the mountains or in the cities as they came into view in their journey. They stopped at Jericho, near the head of the Dead Sea, and there turned westward, climbing the mountains over the robber-haunted road, and reaching Jerusalem. Perhaps they rested a day or two in this city and then went over to the mount of Olives, past the village of Bethany; and six miles south of Jerusalem they entered the gate of Bethlehem. They had no friends with whom they could stay in Bethlehem, and so they sought out the inn, or the khan, as it was called. This was a large building with rooms around an open court. In this court the animals and the baggage were placed, and the guests of the inn were in the rooms around it. But Joseph and Mary were not the only people who had come to Bethlehem to have their names enrolled or written upon the lists for the taxing. Others had reached the inn or khan before them. When they came the courtyard was filled with asses and camels and chariots and baggage, and all the rooms around the court were crowded with visitors. Joseph found within the walls of the khan no place where his wife could rest after her long and wearisome ride. But at last Joseph learned of a place where they might stay through the night and for a few days. It was only a cave, hollowed out in the hillside, used as a stable for cattle; but miserable as it was, Mary was glad to lie down upon the straw and rest. And in that cave-stable Mary's child was born. She wrapped her little baby in such clothes as she could find at hand, and laid him for his first sleep in the manger where the oxen had fed. This was the lowly cradle of the Son of David, the King who was to rule over all the earth! King Herod in his palace did not know, and the Emperor Augustus at Rome did not dream, that in the humble stable at Bethlehem was lying a Prince who should reign over a realm vastly greater than Judea or the Roman Empire; that all the world should date their years from the year when that baby was born; and that his name would be praised long after their names had been forgotten. [Illustration: Main street in Bethlehem] But although neither King Herod, nor the Emperor Augustus, nor the high-priest and rulers in Jerusalem were there to welcome their new-born King, there were some visitors at his manger-cradle. In the open fields around Bethlehem were shepherds, watching at night over their flocks of sheep, just as, a thousand years before in the same fields, the young shepherd David had cared for his sheep, guarding them from wild beasts of the wilderness and from robbers. Suddenly a great, dazzling light flashed upon these shepherds, and they saw, as Zacharias had seen by the altar, and as Mary had seen in Nazareth, a glorious angel standing before them. The shepherds were filled with fear and fell upon their faces on the ground, not daring to look up at the shining form. But the angel spoke to them kindly and graciously, saying: "Do not be afraid, for I come with good news, which will make you glad; news for all God's people. On this very night is born in yonder city of David, one who shall be the Saviour, even Christ your Lord and King. Would you wish to go and see this child? I will tell you how you can find him. Look for a newly-born baby wrapped in such clothes as babies wear, and lying, not in a cradle in a house, but in the manger of a stable, where the oxen and the asses are kept. There you will find the child who is to be the King of all the earth!" While shepherds were listening to the words of this angel, they saw that the entire midnight sky over them was filled with a multitude of heavenly beings. The shepherds heard them sing: "Glory to God in the highest, And on earth peace among men in whom God is well pleased." Then the vision faded away, the angelic host passed out of sight, and in the dark sky only the stars were shining above them. Then the shepherds said to each other: "Let us leave our sheep here for a little while, and go to the village and see this wonderful thing that has come to pass. How good it is that the Lord has given this word to us, that we may be the first to look upon our King!" It did not take the shepherds a long time to find the right stable and the manger, for Bethlehem was then only a small village. They came, opened the door, and found just what the angel had said they would see, a tiny baby lying in the manger, his mother hovering near, and Joseph watching over them both in tenderness. They saw the royal little one, and bowed low around his manger cradle, then went again to their flocks in the field, praising God for his goodness in sending the long-promised King. The people to whom the shepherds told this story, wondered at it, hardly knowing whether to believe it or not; for this was not the way in which they looked for the King of Israel to come. They were expecting a prince to be born in a palace, not a working-woman's child in a dark cave where cattle were kept. But Mary, happy with her little one, clasped him to her heart and said nothing to anyone of the angel that had come to her in Nazareth, and of the promises given her about this child. When the day came to name the child, she simply said, "His name shall be Jesus," but she told no one why the name was given. It was a common name among the Jews, so no one was surprised at the name. But no word could tell better than his name "Jesus" what this child should become, for the word Jesus means "Saviour." [Illustration: Simeon came forward and took the infant Jesus into his arms, and lifting up his eyes to heaven gave thanks that he had seen the Saviour.] The Baby Brought to the Temple CHAPTER 8 ALTHOUGH JESUS was born in a stable and slept in a manger, he did not stay in that place long. After a few days Joseph was able to find a more comfortable home, where the young mother and her baby were taken. The Jews were very kind to strangers of their own people, and welcomed them to their houses when passing through their towns. Joseph and his family were in Bethlehem for some weeks, perhaps for some months. It may have been their purpose to make Bethlehem their home, and to bring up this child, the Son of David, in David's own city, where he could have a better training for his coming life, whatever that life might be, than in the country village of Nazareth. On the day when Jesus was forty days old, he was brought with his mother to Jerusalem, which was only six miles from Bethlehem. There he was taken to the Temple for a service which showed that he was given to God and to be brought up as God's child. It was the rule of the Jews that after the first child had come to a family, an offering should be made on the altar in the Temple for him and prayers should be said. A family that was rich would offer for their first child a sheep, which was killed and burned on the altar as a gift to God in place of the child. If the family was poor, or of the working class of people, the parents offered a pair of doves or pigeons. Joseph and Mary brought a pair of doves, and stood by while these were burned on the altar, Mary holding her baby in her arms. At that moment there was in the Temple an old man named Simeon. He was a good man and very earnest in his prayers to God that he might live to see the Messiah-King of Israel, the Christ of God, who had been promised through the prophets of old. And God had said to Simeon that he should not die until he had seen Christ. On that morning a voice had seemed to say to him, "Go to the Temple." He obeyed it, not knowing why he had been sent to that place on that day. As Joseph and Mary brought the baby Jesus into the Temple, the voice of the Lord spoke again to Simeon, saying: "This child is David's Son, the King of Israel." [Illustration: Mary and the doves] The old man came forward, held out his arms, and took the child into them, folded him to his bosom, and lifting up his eyes to heaven, said in Hebrew verse: "Now, Lord, thou mayest let thy servant go According to thy word, in peace. For these eyes of mine have seen thy Saviour Whom thou hast sent to all the people. A light to shine upon the nations, And the glory of thine own people Israel." Joseph and Mary were filled with wonder at the act and words of the old man, whom they had never seen before and did not know. But as he placed the child in their arms again, he prayed for God's blessing upon both Joseph and Mary. "Listen," he said, "this child will become a cause for many to fall and to rise again in Israel. He shall be God's sign of mercy, but many shall speak against him. Also, sorrow like a sword shall pierce through your soul, O mother; and the thoughts out of many hearts shall be made known." Those words seemed very strange at the time; but long afterward, when Jesus had grown to be a man, Mary found how true they were, as she saw enemies gathered against her son, and at last looked at him dying upon the cross. Then, indeed, a sword went through Mary's soul. Just at that moment a woman came up to the little group. She was very old, more than ninety years of age; and being a widow and a devout worshipper of God she stayed nearly all her days in the Temple praying. God had spoken to her also with the promise of a coming Christ, the Saviour and King. She too saw in this little baby the promised Messiah, and in a loud voice gave thanks and praise to God. All who heard her wondered at her words, and wondered all the more as they looked on this plainly-clad father and mother with their baby, all evidently from the country, and the speech of Joseph and Mary showing they had come from Galilee in the far north. Thus even while Jesus was a very young baby, only forty days old, here in Jerusalem a few people had looked upon him and spoken of him as the coming King of Israel. Joseph and Mary carried the child back to their new home in Bethlehem; and Mary had more thoughts to hide within her silent heart long after that day in the Temple. The Followers of the Star CHAPTER 9 WHILE JOSEPH and Mary with the child Jesus were still staying in Bethlehem, the city of Jerusalem was stirred by the coming of some men from a land far away, with a strange question. These men were not Jews, but were Gentiles, which was the name that the Jews gave to all people except themselves. All Romans and Greeks and Egyptians and all others who were not of their own race, the Jews called by the name "Gentiles." These Gentile strangers who came to Jerusalem were asking of everybody whom they met this question: "Can you tell us where is to be found the little child who is born to be the King of the Jews? We have seen his star in the east, and we have come to do him honor?" Who were these men, and what was the star that they had seen? We are not certain as to their land, but it is generally thought to have been the country now called Persia, then known as Parthia, a land about a thousand miles to the east of Judea. Although some Jews lived in that land--for Jews were to be found then as now in all lands, especially in large cities--the people of Parthia were not Jews, but, as the Jews called them, Gentiles. Although not of the Jewish race, these people were like the Jews in one respect--they never bowed down to worship images which men had made. They worshipped the One God of all the earth; and they prayed with their faces toward the sun. They said that they did not worship the sun, but the One God who was like the sun, the light of the world. Among these Parthian people were many men who at night studied the stars in the sky. They did not have telescopes, as those who look at the stars now have, to bring the heavenly bodies, the moon, the planets, and the stars nearer to them; they could only use their own eyes, but by long study they had learned much about the stars, could tell of their movements and where in the sky to find each one of them. The men who gave their lives to this study of the stars were called Magi, a word meaning "Wise Men"; and these strangers who were seeking the child-king in Jerusalem are sometimes spoken of as "the Wise Men," sometimes as "the Magi." [Illustration: The Wise Men on their journey] The people of that time believed that when great kings were born, or before they died, strange stars suddenly appeared in the heavens, shone for a time and then as suddenly passed out of sight. A year or perhaps two years before Jesus was born in Bethlehem, such a star, very bright, that had never before been seen, began to shine. In some way it came to the minds of these men that this star pointed to the coming of a great king who was to rule over all the lands, and who was to be found in the land of Judea. These Wise Men at once made up their minds to go to the land of Judea and see this child-king. It was a long and hard journey of more than a thousand miles. They must pass from the high plains of Parthia down to the lowlands of Babylonia, must find some way to cross two great rivers, the Tigris and the Euphrates. Then they would come to a vast trackless desert, where nothing grew and there was no water. If they went around this desert they must follow up the Euphrates River far to the north, and then traveling southward under the shadow of lofty mountains, they would come at last to Judea, and to Jerusalem, its largest city. Through all that long and trying journey, which would last a year, traveling most of the way on camels, they saw the wonderful star in the sky seeming to lead the way. From the story as told in the Gospel by St. Matthew it appears that when these men came to Jerusalem the star was no longer shining. However, the loss of the star would not matter so much, now that they were in the King's own land, for they supposed that everybody in that country, and especially in the city of Jerusalem, would know that their Prince was born. But to their surprise, nobody seemed to have heard about the newly-born King. They did not meet the shepherds of Bethlehem, who had seen the angel on the night of Jesus' birth, nor did they hear of old Simeon and Anna who a month or more before had seen the Christ-child. Very, very few were those who knew that the King had come, and none of these few people did these strangers chance to meet. They thought that at one place they could surely learn where to look for this young Prince. That was the king's palace in Jerusalem. Herod was still living, although old and very feeble, yet as fierce and cruel as ever. Perhaps they thought that this Prince for whom they were looking might be a son or a grandson of the king. Herod did not live in Jerusalem, for he did not like its people and he knew how greatly its people hated him; but he had a palace in the city and he came to it often for short visits. He may have been in Jerusalem when the Wise Men came; or they may have sought Herod down at Jericho, twenty miles away, where most of the time he lived. As soon as the old king heard the question of these strangers, and learned that they had been led by a star to his land, he was filled with alarm. A child born to be king of the Jews--if there was such a child, what would become of Herod's own throne and crown? If he could find where this child was, he would send his soldiers to the place and soon kill him, as he had killed many others whom he suspected of seeking to take away his kingdom. But Herod hid his cruel purpose, and spoke kindly to these strangers about their errand. He asked them when the star appeared, how it looked, and how they knew that it showed that a king had been born. Then Herod sent for the wisest men in his land, the teachers of the law who lived in Jerusalem. He knew that all the people were looking for the coming of their Messiah-king, whom they also called the Christ. "Can you tell me," asked Herod, "in what place this great King, the Messiah or Christ, is to be born?" The scholars were ready with their answer. They said: "In Bethlehem of Judea, the city of David, this King who springs from David's line shall be born. This is what the old prophets have said." And they read to him one of the promises of the prophets that the King should come out of Bethlehem. Then Herod sent again for the Wise Men, and asked them to give him the exact time when they first saw the star. When he had learned the time, he thought at once that this long-looked-for King must have been born in Bethlehem less than two years before. "Go to Bethlehem," said Herod to the Wise Men, "and search through the town until you find this child; and when you have found him, come and tell me, for I wish to do honor to this King." That was what Herod said; but what he meant to do was a very different thing, as we shall see. The Wise Men at once started for Bethlehem, which was only six miles from Jerusalem. They went over one of the mountains, and then one said to another: "Look, there is the star once more! See it in the sky just before us!" The star stood over the road leading to Bethlehem, and again they followed it rejoicing. It led them straight to the city, and then to a house, over which it seemed to pause. They knocked at the door, and when it was opened they went into a room, where they found a baby lying in its young mother's arms. These Wise Men knew at once that here was the King for whom they had sought so long and traveled so far. They bowed before him to the ground to show the high honor in which they held him. Then they opened the treasures which they had brought from their own land, and gave to him rich gifts, such as were presented to kings. They gave him gold, and frankincense and myrrh, the fragrant gums that were used in offerings and were very costly. Thus, while in his own land only a few people showed their gladness at the coming of their king, the strangers from a distant country came to pay him honor. We would have thought that some of the learned Jews, who could tell King Herod where the King was born, might have come with the Wise Men to see him. But these great scholars really cared very little about Jesus. They stayed at home and soon forgot the men of the east, their journey, and their question. [Illustration: The well of the Wise Men, near Bethlehem] [Illustration: Joseph and Mary taking the child Jesus with them set out on their journey to the land of Judea] Safe in Egypt CHAPTER 10 ON THE night after their visit to Mary and her child, the Wise Men had a dream. In their dream they heard the voice of God saying to them: "Do not go to meet King Herod again. He is no friend to this princely child. Return to your own land by some other way, and do not let Herod know it." The Wise Men obeyed the voice of the Lord. They left Bethlehem very quietly, telling no one the road that they were taking; and without going through Herod's city, went back to their own land, far-distant Parthia. As soon as the Wise Men had left, on that night Joseph also had a dream. He saw an angel by his bed, who said to Joseph: "Rise up at once; take the little child and his mother, and go as quickly as you can down to the land of Egypt, stay in that country until I tell you to leave it, for very soon King Herod will try to kill this child." Without waiting a moment, Joseph awaked Mary from her sleep, and in the night they left the house, taking the sleeping baby with them. They passed silently through the dark streets of Bethlehem and found the road that would lead them to Egypt. At times Mary rode upon an ass, holding her precious child; at others she walked while Joseph guided the animal which carried their possessions. It was a journey of more than a hundred miles to Egypt, but they went in safety, unknown to King Herod. In Egypt they could dwell safely, for that land was not a part of Herod's kingdom. Many Jews were dwelling there, and among them Joseph could live by his trade, for he was a skilful worker in wood. How long they stayed in Egypt we do not know. It may have been either a few months or a few years. Herod waited for some time to see the Wise Men again, and to find where the child-king was living. But as the days passed and he heard nothing from them, and finally learned that they had left for their home-land without obeying his command to come and see him, he was very angry. But he was resolved to kill this child, who if he should live might take the kingdom from him or from his family. [Illustration: Joseph and Mary with Jesus in Egypt] Herod planned and carried out a fearfully wicked deed, but not more wicked than many deeds that he had already done. He sent a troop of his soldiers to Bethlehem, with orders to go into every house in the village, to find every child that was two years old or under that age, and to kill them all. This terrible thing the soldiers did, and a great cry went up to heaven from the mothers and fathers whose little ones had been slain by the wicked king's command. But Herod's slaughter of the little children was all in vain, as must be every attempt to fight against God. Herod thought that surely this royal child must be among those little dead bodies in Bethlehem, and that his throne was safe. But by that time the little Jesus was in Egypt, sleeping under one of its palm trees beside the river Nile, or looking with wide-open baby eyes upon the pyramids and the Sphinx, the wonderful works of ancient time, carved in stone. Herod did not live long after this. He died full of years, full of wickedness, and suffering great pain. Then Joseph in Egypt dreamed again. The angel whom he had seen so many times before came once more and said to him: "Joseph, you may now take the young child and his mother and go back to the land of the Jews, for those who sought to kill the child are dead and can do him no harm." Then Joseph as before fastened a saddle on the ass and placed their possessions upon its back. The little family then set out upon its journey back to the land of Judea. The purpose of Joseph and Mary was to go back to Bethlehem, David's city, and there bring up this child whom they expected one day to sit on David's throne as King of Israel. But on the way they met other travelers and asked them: "Who is now the King in Judea, since Herod is dead?" They said to Joseph: "The king over Jerusalem and Judea is now Archelaus, the son of the old King Herod, and he is as wicked and as cruel as his father was before him." This news made Joseph and Mary afraid to go to Bethlehem. They thought, "Perhaps King Archelaus may have heard of the child Jesus, and is watching for the chance to kill him." They made up their mind not to go near Bethlehem or Jerusalem, but keeping away from the land ruled by Archelaus, to return to Nazareth, where both had lived before their marriage. So it came to pass that Jesus who was born in Bethlehem of Judea was brought up in Nazareth of Galilee. [Illustration: Bronze coin of Herod Agrippa I] [Illustration: Large bronze coin of Agrippa II] A Child's Life in Nazareth CHAPTER 11 THE LITTLE Jesus must have been between two and five years old when he was brought to Nazareth, just coming out of babyhood and growing into a little boy; and Nazareth was his home for at least twenty-five years, all through his childhood, his boyhood and his young manhood. Jesus was not the only child living in that little white house of one story and one room on the side of the hill. Soon another baby boy came, who was named James, who grew up to become a great man, and many years after wrote one of the books in the Bible, the Epistle of James. Then, one after another, came three more boys, Joseph and Simon and Judas. When we read that name "Judas" we are apt to think of the wicked Judas, who sold the Lord Jesus for a few pieces of silver. But that was a different Judas. This Judas, like his brother James, long afterward wrote another book in the New Testament, the Epistle of Jude. Somewhere in the list of children were two girls--there may have been more than two, but the number and names of the girls have not been kept. After a few years that little house must often have been crowded, with children coming one after another, and always a baby to be cared for. And much of the time it was the shop where father Joseph did his work as a carpenter. The floor of brick or of clay was often littered with shavings and the workman's tools were on the table. [Illustration: The child Jesus loved outdoor life, he knew the flowers that grew in the fields and the birds flying in the air.] The house had very little furniture; no chairs, no bedstead with a mattress upon it, no stove and no pictures upon the walls. In one corner a little fire was lighted for cooking the meals, and the smoke went up through a hole in the roof, unless the wind blew it back into the room. They never made a fire to keep the house warm in winter, but when it was cold just waited for the sun to come out. Sometimes a snowstorm came, but the snow seldom stayed more than two or three days. The children of Joseph never took a sleigh-ride and never coasted on sleds down the steep hills. [Illustration: Jesus as a boy at the house of his father and mother] If there was a table for their meals, it was very low, less than two feet high; and they sat around it on little cushions, dipping their hands or pieces of bread into one common dish for food. Sometimes the table was just a round measure turned upside down; and sometimes the meal was served on the floor, as we serve meals on the grass at a picnic. When night came, they unrolled some mats, which through the day were rolled up and stood against the wall, spread them on the floor and lay down upon them to sleep, throwing over themselves the long mantle which had been their outside garment through the day. When the door was shut, the house was dark, for its only window was a little hole in the wall; and they lighted it by an oil lamp, which stood either on a tall stand or on a little shelf. [Illustration: Women grinding grain in Bible times] But the house was used little in the daytime, for everybody lived out of doors, in the open court in front, in the streets and on the hills around. On pleasant days Joseph took his tools in the court and worked in wood. We are apt to think of Joseph as building houses, as in our time that is the chief work of a carpenter. But the houses were made of clay or rough stone, and the carpenter did very little work upon them. His chief business was in making wooden plows, yokes for the oxen, the little tables, and the peck or bushel measure, which was to be found in every house, and was also used in place of a table. One very useful article was either in the house or in the court--the hand mill for grinding grain, made of two round flat stones. Our flour comes to us from great factories, but in that land each family had its own little mill. They poured the grain into a hole in the upper millstone, and then turned the stone round and round by a handle until the grain was ground into flour. This was hard work, but it was always done by the women. Often two women helped each other to turn the handle of the upper millstone. Mary's arms often ached in making the flour needed for her large family. When her daughters grew strong, they helped her in this work. When Jesus became a boy six years old, he was sent to school with the other boys. There were no schools for girls among the Jews, so far as we know. The school was held in the village church, which they called the synagogue. The teacher was always a man, and he was generally the janitor of the church, who kept the building in order. The Jews had a pretty name for the village school. They called it "The Vineyard," as though the children were bunches of little grapes, growing up to ripen in the sun. In this vineyard-school there was only one book for study. That was the Bible. The Jews had only the Old Testament, for the New Testament had not yet been written. Each of the larger books was in a separate volume in the form of a long roll of parchment; that is, a sheet made of sheepskin which had been made smooth, on which the words were written. Several of the smaller books were written on one roll. In the school there was only one copy of the Bible for all the scholars, but each boy had a board and a piece of chalk, with which he wrote sentences from the Bible and then learned them by heart. When his text had been learned, each pupil cleaned off his board like a slate and wrote on it a new lesson. All the teaching in a Jewish school was in the Old Testament. The copy of the Bible in the school was generally one that had been used in the church until it had grown old and worn out. When they obtained a new set of the books for the service in the church, they gave the old copies to the school. You can see in that same land now a school of children just like those in the time when Jesus was a boy. The children sit on the floor in a circle, the teacher being one of the ring. When they repeat their verses in learning them, all are talking aloud at the same time, so that the school is very noisy. We could not study in such a din, but they do not seem to mind it. [Illustration: Roll of book] School was not very hard in that country. Our children have one holiday in each week, free from school, but in the school where Jesus was taught, they had two holidays in every week, besides the sabbath. In addition to these holidays there was a long recess of three hours in the middle of each day, and no school at all if the day was very hot. When Jesus was a small boy he was taken by father Joseph to the church, which you remember they called the synagogue. The men and boys sat on the floor upon rugs or mats, while the women and girls were in a gallery, looking down upon them. All the men and boys wore their hats in the church. Their hats were turbans of cloth wrapped around their heads. But each one as he entered the door slipped off his shoes or slippers, and was barefooted in the church at the hour of worship. If at the hour of worship you go to a Mohammedan church in that country--which they call a mosque--you will see all the shoes standing outside the door. In the church they had no minister to lead the service and to preach a sermon. The men took turns in charge of the worship. One read from one part of the Old Testament, another from another part. If they found a boy who was a good reader he was often called upon to read the Bible in the church service. They had prayers, always read from a book; they sang together from the Psalms; and whoever wished to speak could do so. But we are not to think of the child Jesus as always at school or at church. He was a strong, hearty, healthy boy. He loved outdoor life, he knew the flowers that grew in the fields and the birds flying in the air. He played with other boys and knew all their games. Two of these games he once happened to mention long after, while he was teaching. One game was the wedding, when they sang and danced; the other was the funeral, when they cried with loud voices, making a mournful wail. We know, too, that in those times the boys played ball and marbles, and a game somewhat like ten-pins. Jesus was not a lonely boy, living apart. He was always fond of having others around him. When he was a man, traveling and teaching over all the land, he had his twelve chosen friends who were always with him, and we may be sure that as a boy he liked to be with other boys, and in turn was liked by the boys of his village. We may be sure, too, that he grew up a good boy; one who always tried to do right, at home, at school, or in play. At home he would help Joseph in his shop and his mother in her work or in caring for the smaller children; in school we know that he learned his verses in the Bible, because in after years he could always call them to his mind and speak them; and in play he was always fair and good-hearted and willing. We are told that he grew in knowledge and in the favor of God and of all people. In other words, he was a boy that everybody liked. [Illustration: The citadel of ancient Bethshean, in the Jordan valley, twelve miles south of sea of Galilee] The Boy Lost and Found CHAPTER 12 JESUS STAYED at the school in the village church until he was twelve years old. By that time he could read and write and could also repeat many verses. But as his reading book and spelling book and copy book and memory verses were all in the Bible, and as he heard long readings from its books at the church service, we may be sure that he knew quite well all the best things in that best of all books, the Bible. One proof of this is that in later years, when anyone tried to puzzle him with a hard question, he often answered promptly with a sentence from the Bible. A Jewish boy generally left school at the age of twelve, unless he wished to become a rabbi, which was the name among the Jews for a teacher of their law. If that was his wish or the purpose of his parents, he was sent up to Jerusalem to study in the college held by the scribes or teachers in the Temple. Saul of Tarsus, a boy about four years younger than Jesus, whom we know as Paul the Apostle, was a student in the Temple college, but Jesus was not. While the young Saul was studying in Jerusalem, Jesus as a young man was working in the carpenter shop at Nazareth. When Jesus was twelve years old he was taken on his first journey from Nazareth up to Jerusalem to attend the great feast of the Passover. Three great feasts were held during the year. The feast of the Passover was in the early spring, and kept in mind the great day when the Israelites went out of Egypt, no longer slaves but free men. The feast of the Pentecost was held in the late spring, just fifty days after the Passover--the word "pentecost" meaning "fifty days"--and reminded the people that fifty days after their fathers went out of Egypt, God gave them their law amid lightning and thunder on Mount Sinai. The feast of the Tabernacles, or "feast of tents" (for that is the meaning of the word tabernacles), was held in the fall; and at this time the people built for themselves huts of green branches, ate in them and slept in them for a week, to show the outdoor life of the early days in the wilderness, while they were marching to Canaan, the Promised Land. These three great feasts were held in Jerusalem, and from every part of the land the people came up to the city to attend them. It was a great event when the boy Jesus for the first time went on this journey to Jerusalem. The younger children were left at home, under the care of some friend, for a boy did not begin attending these feasts until he was twelve years old. Of course, Joseph and Mary knew all about this journey, for they had made it many times. They went in the caravan or company from Nazareth, following the road that Joseph and Mary had taken on their way to Bethlehem, twelve years before. As they journeyed, Mary seated on the ass, Joseph and the boy Jesus walking beside her, they would talk about the places which they passed, and the stories of old times told about them. Jesus knew all those stories, for every Jewish boy had heard them, over and over. As they paused on the top of the hill beside Nazareth, below them was spread out the great plain of Esdraelon, and they would say, "That mountain by the Great Sea on the west is Mount Carmel, where Elijah built his altar and made his great offering, when in answer to his prayer the fire came down from heaven and burned up the bullock laid on the altar. Do you see that road running across the plain? On that road Elijah ran in front of King Ahab's chariot, after the long drought, when the rain was coming. And then, this plain! Over it from Mount Tabor, there on the left, Deborah and Barak chased the flying Canaanites across the plain. Do you see that second mountain beyond Tabor? That is Mount Gilboa; and at its foot Gideon with his brave three hundred frightened at night the Midianite host and won a great victory." [Illustration: Mount Tabor and the plain of Esdraelon] They went down into the Jordan valley and walked southward by the Roman road, following the Jordan River. At one place the mountains on either side came down close to the river, and there was barely room for the road between the foaming stream on one side and the steep rocks on the other. "Look," said Joseph, "this is the place where the waters rose up and stood in a heap when our fathers under Joshua were about to cross the river, thirty miles below." They crossed a brook which fell into the river; and Joseph said, "Do you see this brook? Up there among the mountains was the place where the prophet Elijah was fed by the ravens; for this is the brook Cherith." They came to the place just above Jericho where under Joshua the Israelites walked across the dry bed of the river, the holy ark carried by the priests in front and the people following in a long procession. There the river is very wide and quite shallow, so that people walk across, except in the early spring, when it is swollen by the rains and the melting snow on the high mountains far to the north. [Illustration: The Temple of Herod restored by Fergusson. The covered portico on the left is the royal porch extending along the southern side of the Temple area. The colonnade running from left to right is Solomon's porch extending across the eastern side of the area. The courts were much larger than as here shown.] [Illustration: At last his parents found Jesus in the Temple, the center of a company of learned scholars; he was asking questions of them and they were asking questions of him, while all around were people listening and wondering at this boy's deep knowledge of the truth.] There they would point out across the river Mount Nebo, where Moses stood looking upon the land and then all alone lay down and died. They stopped for a rest at Jericho, where were stories to tell of the walls that fell down when the Israelites marched around them, and the priests blew their ram's-horn trumpets. Perhaps they stopped and drank at the great spring near Jericho where the water was made pure by Elisha the prophet. And after a climb up to the mountains, at the end of six days or a week, they came to Jerusalem, the end of their journey, and the place called by the people "the holy city." And then, there was the splendid Temple of God! How the boy's heart was stirred as he walked over the bridge leading from Mount Zion to Mount Moriah! They went into the great outside court, the court of the Gentiles, the only place in the Temple where foreigners were allowed to enter; and the boy Jesus was shocked to see that it had been turned into a market, where cattle and sheep and doves were sold, and where tables stood around for the men who changed foreign money into Jewish shekels. Over the eastern wall and the Golden Gate, they saw the Mount of Olives, then covered to the top with vineyards and olive trees and gardens. They climbed up a flight of steps and passed through a gate called "the Beautiful Gate," into a smaller court, like the outer court open to the sky. This was named "The Court of the Women" because from its lattice-covered gallery the women looked down on the altar and the services of worship. Jesus noticed that in this Court of the Women were many classes of young men studying, seated in a circle, listening to their teachers. How he longed to sit down among them and listen to these wise scholars; for though only a boy, he had thought deeply on many things which he had read, and many questions had come to his mind which he greatly desired to have answered. He saw the sacrifice offerings laid on the altar and burned, while trumpets sounded and censers of incense were waved and the priests chanted the psalms of David. While the family were in Jerusalem they found friends with whom they stayed, and in their house the Passover feast was eaten. It was a very simple meal, just a roasted lamb, some vegetables and bread made without yeast, in thin cakes, like soda biscuit, only larger. They ate the meal lying down on couches around the table, their heads toward the table, their feet away from it. It was the custom or rule of the Jews, at this feast, to have the story of the first Passover. Perhaps Joseph said to Jesus: "My son, you know what took place when this passover was eaten for the first time. Tell us the story." [Illustration: David street, Jerusalem, looking toward Olivet] Then the boy Jesus told of the terrible plagues that fell upon the land of Egypt; of the last and greatest sorrow, the death of the oldest son in every house; how the Israelites sprinkled their door-posts with the blood of the slain lamb and were passed over by this death-angel; how they ate the lamb on that night, dressed for their journey; and how they went out of Egypt and marched through the Red Sea. The family were in Jerusalem for a week, and every day Jesus went up to the Temple to worship in its services and to learn what he could from its teachers. The last day of their visit came, and at its close the families going to Galilee met together for their homeward journey. A horn was blown and the caravan or company started northward. Mary missed her son, but thought that he was somewhere in the crowd, talking with other boys of his own age. But when night came, the company stopped to rest and Jesus did not appear. Mary was alarmed. They looked through all the crowd, but no Jesus was to be found. Then in great trouble, Joseph and Mary hastened back to Jerusalem, looking for their boy. They asked for him among the friends at whose house they had stayed, but he had not been there. They wandered up and down the narrow streets, but while they saw many groups of boys, their boy was not among them. At last, on the third day, they looked for him in the Temple. In one of its courts a crowd of people were listening to the teachers who seemed to be talking with someone. They drew near, and Mary's heart began to beat as she suddenly heard a boy's voice sounding from the middle of the throng. She knew that voice, in its clear, rich, honest tone! She pressed her way in; and there stood her boy, the center of a company of the learned scholars. He was asking questions of these men, and they in their answers were asking him questions in turn, while all around were people listening and wondering at this boy's deep knowledge of the truth. Mary hastily rushed up to Jesus, and said: "My son, why have you treated us so unkindly? Your father and I have been looking for you, in great trouble, for three days!" Jesus looked up at his mother's face, with surprise, and said: "Why should you look for me? Did you not know that I would be in my Father's house?" Evidently on the last day of their stay, he had slipped away for one more visit to the Temple; and once there his mind and heart had been so full that no thought of the home-going had come to him. He had just stayed there in the courts of the Lord's house without a thought of the outside world. Where had he slept on those two nights? Who had given him food during those three days? He might have lain down, as thousands did during the feast, under the olive trees on the Mount of Olives. Some stranger may have seen him and invited him to a meal. But it would not be strange if in his deep, whole-souled interest, he had never thought of food and had eaten nothing during those three days. But without a word he took his mother's hand and walked out of the Temple. He made the journey home to Nazareth, saying little but thinking much of all that he had seen and heard. One great, precious truth at least had come home to his heart. He felt that the Lord God of Israel was his own Father and he could trust fully the Father God. The Young Woodworker CHAPTER 13 FOR EIGHTEEN years after the visit to the Temple, Jesus was living in Nazareth, growing up from a boy to a young man. A Jewish boy generally left his school at about thirteen years of age, and began working at some trade or business. Jesus went into Joseph's shop and helped in the work, making plows and ax-handles and rakes and the plain furniture for the houses. Whatever Jesus did was done well, and we cannot doubt that in his trade he soon became a skilful worker. His ax-handles and plows were as good as the best; and if he made a bushel measure, it was a true one, for Jesus was a boy that could be trusted. As a boy, he was like other boys, playing happily in play-time and working heartily in work-time. Some boys like to be alone, reading and thinking and dreaming; but Jesus was not one of that kind. All through his life he liked to have people around him, and as a boy we may be sure he had many friends among other boys. He was strong, in good health, could run and jump and climb trees. With his boy friends he wandered among the mountains and upon the great plain just over the hills from his town. The Sea of Galilee was only twenty miles away, and we do not doubt that Jesus with his friends went fishing in its blue waters and brought home to his mother the fish which he had caught. [Illustration: Jesus went into Joseph's shop and helped in the work, making plows and ax-handles and the plain furniture for the houses.] After a time, Joseph, the husband of Mary, died, and Jesus was left to care for his mother and her large family of children. It is no light load for one just coming out of boyhood and just beginning to be a man, to have laid upon him the earning of enough money to buy food for a mother and at least six younger brothers and sisters; and this was the load which the young Jesus took up. But although Joseph who had been a father to him was gone, Jesus knew that his heavenly Father was still with him, and he could call upon him for help in every need. Jesus worked hard all the long days, but when the Sabbath day came, which among the Jews was Saturday, his shop was shut up and he sat on the floor of the village church, listening to the reading of the Old Testament and joining in the songs of praise. He took his turn as the reader at the desk, and as he read the lesson in Isaiah or Micah or Hosea, he saw meanings in the verses that others could not see, for in the long hours of the workshop he was thinking and praying and listening to the voice of God. [Illustration: Tools of an oriental carpenter. 1, 3, 4. Drills. 2. Chisel. 5. Handle of a drill. 6. Nut held in the hand while the drill revolves. 7. Saw. 8. Punch. 9. Horn of oil. 10. Mallet. 11. Bag for nails. 11. Basket to hold tools.] While Jesus was living this quiet life in the home and the shop some changes were going on in the land. The ruler in Galilee was Herod Antipas, the son of that wicked Herod who killed all the babies in Bethlehem; and he was very little better than his father. In Judea, the part of the land around Jerusalem, Archelaus, another son of Herod, ruled so badly that all the people sent to the Emperor Tiberius at Rome asking to have him taken away. The Jews hoped that they might then have rulers of their own people; but the Emperor sent them a Roman governor, whom they did not like but dared not make angry. In many places through the land, especially in Galilee, where Jesus was living, some of the people refused to pay their taxes to the Roman empire, and began fighting against the rulers. They could not battle with the Roman armies, and hid in the woods and caves and mountains, but came out in bands and robbed the people on the roads. All through the land, north and south, were fear and trouble. The people were not contented with their rulers, and all hoped that the time was near when the Kingdom of God would come and their Roman officers and tax-gatherers would be driven away. They looked for a kingdom like the one over which David reigned a thousand years before, a kingdom with armies and victories over its enemies and a palace for the king. But they did not know that in that little one-room house on the hillside of Nazareth, the King was waiting for his call to go forth and bring in the true Kingdom of God. The Voice by the River CHAPTER 14 WHILE JESUS was still living in Nazareth and working in his carpenter shop, suddenly the news went through all the land that a strange man was preaching in the desert country of Judea, not far from Jerusalem; and that all the people were going out of the cities and villages to hear him. This man was John, the son of the old priest Zacharias and his wife Elizabeth. You remember that an angel came to Zacharias while he was standing by the altar in the Temple, and told him that he should have a son, and that his name should be John. John had now grown up and was a young man about thirty years old. He had lived out in the desert places away from the cities and their crowds, so that he could be alone and think and pray and listen to the voice of God. And God had spoken to him in the desert and he had told him to preach to the people and tell them how to get ready for the Kingdom of God, which was soon to come. [Illustration: John the Baptist preaching in the wilderness] John was preaching beside the river Jordan, at the foot of the mountains; and from the cities and villages everywhere the people went to listen to his words. John did not look like the men of his time. He had never cut his hair, and it hung upon his shoulders in a long black mass. His black beard, too, was very long, for it had never been trimmed. His clothing was a skin torn from a beast or a mantle woven from the rough, shaggy hair of the camel, fastened by a leather belt around the waist. He had lived out of doors in the sun and the winds and the rain, so that his face and arms and legs and his bare feet were all brown and hard. He ate for his food the locusts which he could pick up in the fields and the woods and the honey to be found in the hollow trees. When the people looked at him, they thought of the great prophet Elijah, who many hundred years before had gone up to heaven in a chariot of fire near that very place where John was preaching, and they said wonderingly to each other: "This must be Elijah, the fiery prophet, who has come back to earth." A prophet among the Israelites was a man who brought to the people the word which God had given him to speak. The books of the Old Testament, which all the people knew almost by heart, told of many prophets, such as Moses, who brought water for his people by striking the rock; Samuel, whose prayers saved the people from their enemies; Nathan, who spoke bold words to David the king; and Elisha, who had made the bitter waters of a spring sweet, had cured the leper Naaman and wrought many wonderful works. Of all the prophets, they thought Elijah the greatest, and they remembered that in the last book of the Old Testament, the book of the prophet Malachi, it was written: "Behold, I will send you Elijah the prophet before the great day of the Lord shall come." And when the people looked at this strange man who was preaching by the river, they thought that the day of the Lord was surely coming, and that here was the prophet Elijah as had been promised. John said to the people, in his preaching, that the Kingdom of God was near at hand and that every man must be ready for it. To make themselves ready, they were to confess their sins, to stop doing wrong and to begin to do right. As a sign of their willingness to cease from evil and to serve the Lord, they were baptized by John in the river Jordan. John said to them: "I baptize you with water, but there is one among you, of your own people, one whom you do not know, who is greater than I, so much above me that I am not worthy to stoop down and tie his shoestrings. He will come soon; and when he comes, he will not baptize with water as I do. He will baptize you with fire and with the Spirit of God." [Illustration: The river Jordan] He spoke further about this Greater One who was coming so soon, and said: "He shall deal with the people as the farmer deals with his grain on the threshing floor. He will sweep the floor most carefully; the wheat he will put in his barn and the chaff he will burn up with a fire that cannot be put out." The people came to John and said to him: "What shall we do to make ready for the coming of this Great King?" John answered them: "Let everyone do what he can to help those who are in need. If any of you have two coats, give one of them to some poor man that has no garments; and those of you who have wheat and barley, give to those who are hungry something to eat." Some of the men who gathered the taxes from the people for the Roman rulers came to John and said: "What would you have us do to make ready for the coming of the King? Shall we tell the people that they are to pay no more taxes?" "No," answered John. "Let the people pay their taxes as before; but see that you do not make them pay more than is right, and do not rob them." For many of these tax-collectors (who were called publicans) took from the people more than they had a right to take, and used the people's money for themselves. They made themselves rich by robbing the people. Everywhere the people hated these tax-collectors, and called them "sinners." The soldiers and policemen came to John and said, "And what shall we do?" John said to them: "Do not be harsh and rough with the people. Treat everyone kindly. Be contented with your pay, and do not make the people give you money that you have no right to ask." These were some of the many things that John said to the people. All his words came to this: "If you are doing wrong, stop it and begin to do right. Do not be selfish, but love your fellow men and do good to them. And be ready when the King comes to obey him." John was called "John the Baptist" because he baptized in the river Jordan all those who promised to follow his teachings. The leaders of the people in Jerusalem did not believe the words of John and were not baptized by him. They did not know exactly what to think of him, and they sent some priests and others to see him. These men came and asked him: "Who are you? Are you the Christ, the promised King?" "No," answered John, "I am not the Christ." "What then?" said they. "Are you Elijah the prophet come to earth again, as some people say you are?" "No," answered John again, "I am not Elijah." "Well, then," they said, "tell us who you are, so that we can give an answer to the rulers who have sent us." And John said: "In the book of the prophet Isaiah it is written, 'The Voice of him that cries in the desert: prepare ye the way of the Lord, make a straight path before him.' I am that voice to speak to the people and make them ready for the King, who is even now among you, although you do not know him, and who will soon make himself known." The Carpenter Leaves His Shop CHAPTER 15 AFTER SOME months the news was brought to Nazareth that John the Baptist had come up the river Jordan and was now preaching at a place about twelve miles south of the Sea of Galilee. The place where John was preaching had two names. It was called "Bethany beyond Jordan," there being another Bethany quite near Jerusalem; and it was also called "Bethabara," a word which means "the place where one can walk across the river"; for there the river Jordan was so shallow that people waded across it. John had chosen this place because the sloping shore beside the river was fitted for the crowds to listen to his preaching, and the shallow water was near at hand for baptizing the people. Bethabara or Bethany was about twenty-five miles from Nazareth; and over the plain just across the hill was a road leading down to the river at that place, where people used to cross the Jordan on their way to the land of Decapolis and Perea beyond. Nearly all the people had heard John preach, and most of them had been baptized by him as a sign that they promised to turn from evil and do good and look for the King who was soon to come. Jesus felt that the time had now come for him to begin the work to which God had called him. He had told no one of his purpose, not even his mother; but one day he left his carpenter shop to his younger brothers, who were now young men and able to care for their mother. He walked down the valleys, came to the river Jordan, waded the stream, and at Bethabara, in front of a crowd of people from every part of the land, for the first time he saw John the Baptist. No doubt Mary had told her son all the story of the angel by the altar, of John's birth and of his early life; but in all the years Jesus and John had never met. Jesus listened to the words of John, and then with the others he came forward to be baptized. John looked at this strange young man who was drawing near, and as he looked the voice within him said: "The long-promised King has come! This Man is He!" John felt that here was one who needed no baptism; for he knew that this man had no sins to give up, and was already doing God's will perfectly. He felt unwilling to baptize him, and said: [Illustration: The Jordan. At the supposed place of Christ's baptism.] "It is not fitting that I should baptize one so good and so great in the sight of God as you are. I need to be baptized by you, and do you come to me?" But Jesus answered him: "It is best that it should be so. Whatever is right for other men is right also for me. Let me do this as my duty to God." [Illustration: As Jesus rose out of the water, a light flashed from the sky, resting on his head, and the voice of God was heard saying: "This is my Son, my Beloved, in whom I am well pleased."] Then John yielded to the will of Jesus and baptized him. Just as Jesus rose out of the water a strange thing happened. While he was praying a light flashed from the sky and seemed to rest upon the head of Jesus like a white, shining dove coming down upon him; and a voice was heard somewhat like a peal of thunder. Those standing on the shore felt that some words were spoken, but they could not understand them. John alone heard and understood. It was the voice of God, and John afterward told the people that these were the words spoken: "This is my Son, my Beloved, in whom I am well pleased." At that instant a mighty Power came upon Jesus. The Spirit of God had always been with him and had caused him to feel that the Lord was fitting him to do some great work. But in that moment when the light from heaven fell upon him and the voice of God was heard, Jesus was filled with the Spirit of God as no man, not even the greatest of the prophets, had been filled before. He knew now that he was not only a prophet, one who hears God's voice and speaks God's words; but more than a prophet, he himself was the Son of God. He saw as in a flash what was God's plan for his kingdom on the earth; and that it was a kingdom far different from that expected by the Jewish people. He knew that he, who up to that moment had been the woodworker of Nazareth, was from that hour to be the Prince of the heavenly kingdom. He was to lead the people to God and to show in his own life how men should live. He was to bring God down to men and to bring men to God. All this and more that we cannot understand came to the soul of Jesus as he stood on the brink of Jordan with the light of God upon his face. Alone in the Desert CHAPTER 16 AFTER HIS baptism Jesus felt that for a time he must be alone to think over the great change that had come upon him. Only yesterday he had been the carpenter in Nazareth, and now he knew that he was the Son of God and the King of Israel! So sudden and mighty a change as this made him feel that he must go to some quiet, lonely place, where he could think and pray and find out his Father's will for himself and the work that he was to do. Without speaking even a word with John, Jesus slipped out of the crowd upon the bank of the river. He walked toward the south, not following the well-known road beside the Jordan, over which he had walked many times while attending the feasts in Jerusalem, but choosing the paths along the mountain-side where he would not meet people, for he wished not to talk with men but with God. [Illustration: Jesus chose the paths along the mountainside where he would not meet people, for he wished not to talk with men but with God.] He came at last to a very lonely place, between Jericho and Jerusalem; a place where no man lived and where even the Arabs of the desert scarcely ever wandered. The only living creatures in the desolate land were the wild beasts, the wolves and the foxes, whose howls could be heard at night. There upon the top of a hill, with rocks all around, he sat down to rest. His mind had been in such a whirl of excitement, and his heart was beating with such strong feeling, that he had never thought of taking with him any food to eat. For many days and nights he was alone, praying and talking with God and never once thinking of eating. More than a month passed away, even forty days, before the feeling of hunger came upon him. Then suddenly he felt a sharp gnawing in his body, and he knew that he was famishing for food. He felt that he must have something to eat or he would die there in the desert, with the great work to which God had called him all left undone. Around him were the rough stones of the wilderness, and as he looked on them, this thought came to his mind: "There is no need for me to starve in this desert. If I am the Son of God, as the voice from heaven said, then I need only to speak a word and these stones will be turned to bread!" Then Jesus thought again, and said to himself, "Yes, I am the Son of God, and I have the power to make these stones turn into bread for me to eat. But that power was given me by my heavenly Father; and it was given, not that I should use it for myself, but for the help of others who are in need. It is not God's will that I should make bread out of stones for myself." And then a sentence out of the Bible came to the mind of Jesus, and he said, "It is written, Man shall not live by bread alone, but by every word that comes out of the mouth of God." Jesus seemed to be alone in the desert, but there was one who was watching him, all unseen. That one was the evil spirit, Satan, who hated Jesus, knowing that he was the Son of God and the Saviour of the world. He had put into the mind of Jesus the thought of turning stones to bread and using the power which God had given him for himself alone. Jesus was quick to see the purpose of Satan and to turn away from it. [Illustration: When Satan, the wicked spirit, found that he could not persuade Jesus to do his will, he left him.] Then another thought came to the mind of Jesus. He said to himself, "I know that I am the King of Israel, the Messiah whom the people have been looking for so long. But how shall I cause the people to know that I am their King? What can I do to make them believe in me?" At that moment, while Jesus was trying to think out the best plan for beginning his work and making himself, as the Son of God, known to the people, Satan, the evil spirit, was ready with another word. He said, "Here is a good plan. Go to the Temple in Jerusalem at some feast-time when it is crowded with people, and in the sight of all the crowd, leap off one of the towers. You will not fall to the ground, but will come sailing down through the air, for all power is yours. And when the people see you, they will fall on their faces before you and will believe in you as the King so long promised. You know that you are the Son of God and that God will take care of you. Don't you remember that in one of the psalms it is written, 'He shall give his angels charge over thee, and in their hands they shall bear thee up so that thou shalt not dash thy foot against a stone?'" Jesus saw at once that this was not God's plan, but Satan's plan. It would not be trusting God, but would be putting God's power and God's care to a trial to show what Jesus himself could do. He would not perform this foolish act, nor anything like it, of his own accord. He would wait until God told him what to do, and would do nothing until he was sure that it was the will of God. Again a sentence out of the Bible came to his mind, and he said: "It is written again, 'Thou shall not put the Lord thy God to trial.'" That means that we should never make a show of our trust in God or let others see by some act that is not needed what God can do to help us. We must not venture into danger to show how God can bring us out of danger. Jesus had now settled two great questions. He would not use his wonder-working powers for himself, even to save his own life; and he would do nothing merely as a show, but would in all things work only the will of his Father. There was one more question to be met: he was to become the King of Israel, but what kind of a kingdom would he have? He knew well that all the Israelite people, not only in Judea and Galilee, but in all the lands, were looking for a king who should rule in Jerusalem, somewhat as the Emperor Tiberius was ruling in Rome. They hoped for a king who should gather an army, should drive out the Romans, should fight battles, win victories and make his kingdom the ruling power in the world. They looked for the time when the Romans should be under their feet, and when all other lands should pay taxes and serve their king in Jerusalem. All this Jesus knew, and Satan, the wicked spirit, was at his side, though unseen, to say to him: "Take my advice, and I will give you all the kingdoms of the world; for they are mine and I can give them to whom I please." Jesus knew that what the people wanted was just what Satan wanted, a worldly, wicked kingdom, built out of war and blood and the killing of all who would not submit to it. But that would not be the Kingdom of God. It would be the Kingdom of Satan, as so many kingdoms and nations have been in the past. To do as Satan wished him to do would be just the same as if he bowed down before Satan and worshipped him as his Lord and Master. This he would not do; and his last words to the tempter were: "Go away from me, Satan! It is written, 'Thou shalt worship the Lord thy God, and him only shalt thou serve!'" Jesus saw plainly that in making this great choice to please God, he would not please his own people, the Jews. He knew that the rulers and the priests and the scribes, those who were the leading men of the time, would be against him, would refuse to follow him, would try to stir up the people against him and would try to kill him. But Jesus was ready to die in serving God, rather than to live in doing the will of Satan. When Satan, the wicked spirit, found that he could not persuade Jesus to do his will, he left him. And afterward, angels from heaven, sent by his Father, came to him in the desert and gave him all the food that he needed. The gospels of Matthew and Luke, which tell the story of this meeting with Satan and of Jesus' victory, do not say just where it took place. All we know is that it was in the "desert" or the "wilderness." But near Jericho stands a mountain where it is thought by some that Jesus stayed during those forty days. This mountain on that account is called by a name which means "forty days"--Mount Quarantania. [Illustration: Mount Quarantania. Believed by some to be the mount where Jesus was tempted.] [Illustration: Andrew brought his brother Simon to Jesus, who gave him a new name, "The Rock," or Peter.] The Earliest Followers of Jesus CHAPTER 17 AFTER HIS forty days in the desert, Jesus began his work of winning men to the Kingdom of God. This plan was, at first, to talk to men one by one, until he could gather around him a little company of those who would believe in his words as a teacher, and follow him as their leader. The men who would be best fitted to become his first followers were some of those who had been already taught by John the Baptist. So from the wilderness Jesus turned his steps northward once more, and walked up the well-trodden road toward Bethabara, where nearly two months ago he had been baptized. At Bethabara with John the Baptist was a group or company of young men, who were known as John's "disciples," that is, men who stayed with him to learn his teachings after the crowds had gone home. Some of these were fishermen from the Sea of Galilee who had left their nets and their work that they might listen to John. John was standing with some of these men around him, when at some distance a stranger was seen walking up the road. These disciples of John did not know who this man was, but John remembered him, for the light flashing from the sky upon his face at the moment of his baptism and the voice from the heavens, had stamped Jesus upon his memory. He pointed to Jesus and said: "Look! Yonder is the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world! This is the one of whom I spoke when I said, 'After me shall come a man who is greater than I, and who shall baptize not in water but in the Holy Spirit.' Upon this man I saw the Spirit coming down like a dove and resting upon him. And I tell you all that this man is the Son of God." While John was speaking these words, Jesus passed out of sight, and John and his disciples saw no more of him that day. But on the next day, when John was standing with two of his followers, Jesus again walked by, and John again looked at him and said to the young men: "Look! The Lamb of God!" The two young men when they heard these words at once left John and walked toward Jesus. As they drew near, Jesus turned and said to them: "Why do you follow me? What is it that you wish?" They said to him: "Teacher, we wish to know where you are staying, so that we can see you and talk with you." "Come and see," said Jesus; and he led them to the house where he was staying as a guest. In those times the Jews welcomed to their homes those who were on a journey and for a few days needed a resting place. It was about ten o'clock in the morning when those two men sat down in the house with Jesus, and they stayed with him all the rest of the day until the sun went down, listening as he talked to them about the Kingdom of God. His words went straight to their hearts, and on that day those two young men believed in Jesus as their Messiah-Christ; that is, the King of Israel, long promised by the prophets of the Old Testament and long looked for by the Israelite people. The two words Messiah and Christ mean the same. One is in the Hebrew language; the other in the Greek, and both words mean "The Anointed One," or "the King of Israel." Thus, on the first day of his teaching Jesus found two followers. Both of these men were fishermen from the Sea of Galilee, not many miles away. One was a man named John, who was afterward called "the disciple whom Jesus loved," for of all his followers, John was the one nearest to Jesus. Long afterward, John wrote one of the most precious books in the Bible, "the Gospel according to John," which shows us, more than any other book, the inmost heart of Jesus. The other young man was named Andrew. He thought at once of his older brother, Simon, who was also a follower of John the Baptist. He went to find Simon, and said to him: "We have found the Messiah, of whom the prophets have spoken!" He spoke in the Hebrew tongue, which was the language of his people. If he had spoken in Greek, the tongue in which the New Testament was first written, he would have said, "We have found the Christ;" that is, the King. Andrew brought his brother Simon to Jesus; and as soon as Jesus looked at him, before Andrew had spoken his name, he said: "Your name is Simon, and you are the son of Jonas. But I will give you a new name. In the time to come you shall be called 'the Rock.'" In the Hebrew language the word meaning "rock" is "Cephas" or "Kephas." In Greek it is "Peter." After this Simon was sometimes called Cephas, but more often Peter. He became a leader among the followers of Jesus, and many years later wrote one, perhaps two, of the books in the New Testament. Jesus had now three followers who believed in him as their Lord and King; and the next day he found a fourth. This man was named Philip, and he came from a place called Bethsaida, on the northern shore of the Sea of Galilee. Jesus said to Philip: "Follow me." And he too joined the little company of the disciples or followers of Jesus. Philip at once thought of a friend of his own, a very good and pure man, who he thought would be glad to join him as a follower of Jesus. He went to look for him and found him standing under a fig tree. He said: "We have found him of whom Moses wrote in the law, and of whom the prophets spoke, the Christ. His name is Jesus, the son of Joseph; and he comes from the town of Nazareth." Now Nathanael's home-town was Cana, only a few miles from Nazareth. Nathanael thought of Nazareth as a mean place. He could not believe that the great King of Israel, the Christ, should spring from such a village. He looked for him to come from some great city, like Jerusalem, or from Bethlehem, David's town. He did not know that Jesus had been born in Bethlehem; in fact he had never heard of Jesus, and he said: "Do you tell me that anything good can come out of Nazareth?" Now, Philip was not wise enough to tell Nathanael the reasons why he believed in Jesus. It is hard to put into words some of our deepest thoughts. But he gave to Nathanael a very wise answer. "Well," said Philip, "come and see Jesus for yourself." Jesus had never seen Nathanael before, but as he drew near, Jesus said to those who were standing by: "Look! here comes a true Israelite, a man of God, one whose heart has in it nothing evil." Nathanael was greatly surprised at these words of Jesus. He said, "How is it that you know me?" "Before Philip spoke to you," answered Jesus, "while you were standing under the fig tree, I saw you." "Teacher," said Nathanael, "you are the Son of God; you are the King of Israel." Jesus said: "Do you believe because I said, 'I saw you underneath the fig tree?' You will yet see greater things than these. In truth, I say to you that you shall see the heaven opened and the angels of God going up and coming down upon the Son of Man." By "the Son of Man," Jesus meant himself. He used those words to show that while he was "the Son of God," he was also a man among men. Jesus had been preaching or talking to a few men about the Kingdom of God, and already he had gained five followers. There may have been others, for not long afterwards we find James, the brother of John, among his disciples. [Illustration: The village of Bethphage, on the Mount of Olives] [Illustration: Jesus, with his first followers, John, Andrew, Philip and Nathanael, left the river Jordan and walked to the village of Cana in Galilee.] The Water Turned to Wine CHAPTER 18 SOON AFTER Jesus met the men who became his first followers he left the river Jordan, and with these men walked to the land of Galilee, to the village of Cana, about six miles north of Nazareth. This was the town where Nathanael, one of the first five followers of Jesus, lived. At Cana a marriage was to be held, and Jesus with all his followers was invited. In that land, at a marriage, a feast was always given, and all the friends of the newly-married couple, with their friends also, and almost everybody in the village, were expected to come. The feasting and dancing and merry-making often lasted through a whole week. Before the feast was over they found that the wine, which in those times everybody drank freely, was used up, and those who were giving the feast had no wine to set before their guests. This filled them with alarm, for at such times the wine was expected to flow freely, and not to have wine for the company at a feast was considered almost a disgrace. The mother of Jesus was there as a friend of the family. She thought of a way to help those who were giving the feast, and called her son aside from the crowd, and said to him very quietly: "They have no wine." She knew what very few knew, that Jesus was the Son of God, and that all power was in his hands. He had not yet done any of those wonderful works of curing the sick, making the blind to see and making the deaf to hear, which he did so often afterward; but Mary believed that he could do them if he chose. She thought that perhaps he would use his power to give the wine that was needed. It was with this hope that she said to him, "They have no wine." The answer that Jesus gave was not such in its words as to encourage her. "Woman," said he, "what have you to do with me in this matter? My time is not yet come." His speaking to his mother as "Woman," instead of saying "Mother," as a young man would among us, was not lacking in respect. It was the usage of that time for a son to say "Woman," and not "Mother." She saw in his face a look showing her that she had not spoken in vain. So she turned to the servants who were standing near. "Whatever he tells you to do," she said, "do it." [Illustration: Cana, and its well] One of the usages of the Jews was to wash their hands before they sat down to a meal. This washing was not merely to make their hands clean; it was a sort of religious service, and the Jews were very strict in doing it. When so large a company met for a feast, a great deal of water was needed. In the hall were standing six large jars for water, each jar of a size to hold nearly twenty gallons. They were nearly empty, because all the guests had washed their hands before sitting down at the feast. Jesus pointed to these jars and said to the servants: "Fill all those jars with water." They obeyed him and filled all the jars up to the brim. Then Jesus said again: "Now draw out from the jars, and carry what you take out to the ruler of the feast." Wondering, the servants dipped their pitchers into the great jars which only a few moments before they had filled with water. How surprised they were to find each pitcher as it came out full of red wine! They carried it to the ruler of the feast. He tasted it and saw that it was wine of the very best kind. He did not know how it had been made, but supposed that it had been brought suddenly from some wine merchant. He called the young man who had been married, and in whose honor the feast was being held, and said to him: "Everybody serves his best wine at the beginning of his feast; and afterward, when people have been drinking some time, he brings wine that is poorer; but you have kept your best wine until now!" [Illustration: Stone water-jars] [Illustration: The mother of Jesus called her son aside and said to him quietly: "They have no wine."] The only ones who knew whence the new wine had come were the servants. But they soon told others, and the word was passed around the company that Jesus of Nazareth, Mary's son, had wrought this wonderful work. His followers, the five or more disciples who had come with Jesus to the wedding feast, now believed more fully than before that their teacher was more than a mere man, that the power of God was upon him and that whatever he should say was the word of God. Such a work as that of turning the water into wine, a work that no man could do without God's power, was called "a miracle." It showed that the one who wrought it was a man sent from God, doing God's will and speaking God's word. This was the first miracle or work of wonder that Jesus wrought; but after this we shall read of many miracles. From the wedding feast Jesus went down the mountains of Galilee to the city of Capernaum, which stood on the shore of the Sea of Galilee on the northwest. With Jesus on this visit to Capernaum were his mother, some of his younger brothers and his followers. [Illustration: Oriental basin, ewer, etc.] [Illustration: Nicodemus sought Jesus quietly one night to talk with him and learn more of his teachings.] The Lord in His Temple CHAPTER 19 THE SPRING-TIME of the year came, when the people from all parts of the land went up to Jerusalem to attend the great feast of the Passover. You remember that this feast was held to keep in mind how more than a thousand years before God had led the Israelite people out of Egypt, where they had been slaves. It was called the feast of the Passover because on the night of their going-out the angel of death had "passed over" the houses of the Israelites when he brought death to the Egyptian homes. On that night, too, they went out of Egypt in such haste that the women did not have time to wait for the bread to rise before baking it, and all the bread eaten at that time was "unleavened bread," or bread made without yeast. To keep in mind that great day, the day when Israel became a nation, ruling itself, in the spring of every year all the people gathered in Jerusalem, and for one week ate unleavened bread, that is, bread made without yeast. Great services were held in the Temple on every day of this feast; and on one evening a special dinner of a roasted lamb was eaten by everybody, to keep in mind the last meal which the Israelites ate in the land of Egypt, with their hats on their heads and their cloaks on their shoulders and their shoes on their feet, all ready to march away. Jesus and the little company of his disciples or followers went up to Jerusalem, walking, as many times before, down the Jordan valley to Jericho, and then climbing the hills to the holy city. For many years Jesus had been coming to the feast of the Passover; but never before had he come as he came now, in the power of the Spirit, as the Son of God. Around the House of God was a great open court, called the Court of the Gentiles, where foreign people who were not Jews came to pray; since none but Jews or Israelites could enter the inner courts. But the Jews held all Gentiles or foreign people in contempt. They did not look upon the part of the Temple buildings where foreigners prayed as holy; and they had turned this court, the Court of the Gentiles, into a market place. Here Jesus found everywhere sheep and oxen brought there for sale; cages full of doves, which were sold to the poorer people for offerings upon the altar; counters where sat men changing the money of people from other lands into the coins of Judea. There was nothing of the quiet and peace which should be in a place of prayer; all was noise and confusion; the lowing of oxen, the voices of men buying and selling, the jingling of silver on the tables. These sights and sounds stirred the heart of Jesus. He felt that such work as went on around him was unfit and was wicked in a place set apart for the worship of God. He picked up a piece of rope from the floor and untwisted its cords until it seemed like a whip. Then standing before the buyers and the sellers, he called upon them to stop their trading. They looked up amazed at this stranger whose face glowed with power as though he were a king. Alone, without help from anyone, he drove all these people out of the court. He bade them lead away the sheep and the oxen; he commanded those who sold the doves to carry out their cages; he overturned the tables of the money-changers and sent their silver rolling upon the floor. [Illustration: Standing before the buyers and the sellers, he called upon them to stop their trading; he overturned the tables of the money changers and sent their silver rolling upon the floor.] "Take all these things away," he cried out. "This is the house of my Father; you shall not make it a house for buying and selling." Even the little company of his disciples--Peter, John, Andrew and the others--stood still in wonder as they saw their Master alone, armed only with a piece of rope, driving out the gates this crowd of men, who were frightened at the kingliness of his looks and fled before him, not for one moment daring to resist his will. But soon came the priests and rulers of the Temple. They ought not to have allowed these men to trade in the Temple Court and to make it a market place. But some of them took a share of the money that was made in that place. One high priest, it is said, owned all the cages of doves and pigeons that were kept in the Temple for sale. These rulers were very angry to have the trading stopped and their gains taken away. "What right have you to come here," they said to Jesus, "and make trouble? Who are you that you should undertake to rule in this place? Show us some sign or proof that you are Master here!" "The time is coming," said Jesus, "when I will show you a sign of my power, but not now; and when that sign comes, you will not believe it." Then, making a motion of his hands as though pointing to himself, he added: "Destroy this Temple, and in three days I will raise it up." The Jews were horrified at these words; for they thought that he was speaking of the building on Mount Moriah, and in their mind to speak of pulling down the house where God dwelt was a terrible thing. But Jesus was speaking of himself as the Son of God, in whose body dwelt the Spirit of God. Far more than that building, where men cheated and did evil deeds, Jesus himself was the house of God. The rulers said: "This Temple has taken forty-six years to build, and it is not finished yet; and will you raise it up in three days?" Nearly fifty years before, King Herod had begun to rebuild the Temple, which in his time had become old and decayed. The repairs were made very slowly, and in the time of Jesus the building was still far from being finished. It was not finished until more than twenty years afterward. We know what Jesus meant by those words; that three years afterward, those very men would cause him, the Son of God, whose body was God's dwelling place, to be put to death; and within three days after his death he would rise from his tomb, to be the Temple of God again and forever. The disciples of Jesus heard these words, but at that time did not know what they meant. Jesus stayed for some time in Jerusalem and talked to the people about the Kingdom of God. He also did some wonderful works, such as curing the sick; and the people who saw these acts believed his words, as from one whom God had sent to men. But the priests and the rulers hated Jesus, because he spoke against their wicked lives, and they did all that they could to turn the people away from him. Among the rulers, however, were a few men who listened to Jesus and believed his words. One of these was a man named Nicodemus. He wished to have a talk with Jesus and learn more of his teachings. But he was afraid to be seen with Jesus in the day-time, knowing that the other rulers were so strongly against Jesus. So he went quietly one night, unknown to everybody, and had a meeting with Jesus. Nicodemus began by saying: "Teacher, we all know that you have been sent by God to speak to us, because no one could do these wonderful things that you are doing unless God were with him to give him power." Jesus said to him: "Let me tell you and all your people one thing. No man can have any part in the Kingdom of God unless he is born again from God." Nicodemus did not know what this meant, and he said, "How can a man be born again after he is grown up?" "Every man," said Jesus, "must become a new man and have the Spirit of God dwelling in him, if he is to come into the Kingdom of God. Do not be surprised that I say to you, 'You must be born anew.' There are many things that you cannot understand. Listen to the wind blowing! You can hear it, but you cannot tell from what place it comes nor to what place it goes. Just so is it with every one who is born of God's spirit." What Jesus meant in these words was that every one who would be a follower of Christ needs to have a new heart and to live a new life; and this new heart and new life God alone can give to him. One great sentence was spoken by Jesus at this time. Here it is. "God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, that whosoever believeth on him should not perish, but have eternal life." AT THE OLD WELL CHAPTER 20 AFTER THE Passover, Jesus went teaching through the villages in Judea, the province or part of the land around Jerusalem. As Judea was the largest of the five provinces, it gave its name also to the whole land, which was called both "Judea" and "the land of Israel." John the Baptist was still preaching and baptizing, although the crowds which now came to hear him were not so great as before. While John was near the Sea of Galilee, Jesus stayed in Judea, so that none might think that he was trying to draw the people away from John. But after a time Jesus heard that John the Baptist had been put in prison by Herod Antipas, the wicked ruler of Galilee and Perea. Herod had stolen from his brother Philip his wife, named Herodias, and was living with her. John said to him: "It is against the law of Moses and of God for you to take away your brother's wife." This made Herod angry with John, and Herodias even more angry. She wished to have John put to death for his bold words, but Herod, though he was not a good man, was unwilling to have John slain, and partly to keep him safe from the hate of his wife, he ordered that he should be put into prison. To a man like John, used to the free life of the wilderness, and not even willing to live in town or village, it must have been hard to be shut up in a prison cell, within four walls, and to be able only to see the outside world through grated windows. As soon as Jesus learned that John the Baptist was shut up in prison, he ended his work in Judea, and with his disciples started for Galilee, his old home in the north. On this journey he did not go the way of the river Jordan, but took the most direct road, which would lead him through the land of Samaria. He knew that the Samaritan people who lived in that land hated the Jews and often robbed them when they traveled through their country. Still, Jesus made up his mind to go through Samaria. [Illustration: John the Baptist rebuking Herod] Leading the little company of his followers, he walked northward from Jerusalem, past Bethel, where long before Jacob lying on his pillow of stone had his wonderful dream of the ladder reaching up to heaven; past Shiloh, where once the holy Ark of God had been kept in the Tabernacle in the days of Samuel; and over mountains where battles had been fought and victories won. Early one morning, after walking in the night, Jesus and his disciples came to an old well, about two miles from the city of Shechem. Nearby was a little village, named Sychar, which could be seen from the well, and although it was a Samaritan village the followers of Jesus went to it to buy some food. This well was very old. It had been dug by Jacob, the early father of all the Israelite people, more than eighteen hundred years before Jesus came to that place. And it is still there, a well dug out of the solid rock nearly one hundred feet deep, and even now having water in it ten months of the year, but apt to be dry in the summer. That well is now nearly four thousand years old, yet every traveler who visits it may look down into its depths, may see a bucket of water drawn and may have a drink from it. In that time a well did not have with it a pump for bringing up the water, nor was there even a rope to let down into it; but each one who came to draw water--and it was generally a woman--brought a rope and a water-jar. As Jesus sat beside the well, very tired and hungry and thirsty, he had nothing with which to draw water. As the Son of God upon the earth, he could have made the water come to him, but he would not, for you remember that in the desert Jesus would do no wonderful work, no miracle, merely for his own need. Suddenly Jesus heard the sound of someone coming. He looked up and saw a woman, with her water-jar and rope, standing by the well. From her dress he knew that she was not a Jewish but a Samaritan woman, and being the Son of God, he saw more. He knew at once all her life, which had not been a good life. But he looked into her heart and saw that she had a longing after God and after good. He said to her: "Will you give me a drink of water from this well?" The woman glanced at Jesus, and knowing from his dress and his manner of speaking that he was a Jew, said to him: "How is it that you, who are a Jew, ask drink from me, a Samaritan woman?" The Jews looked down upon the Samaritans, never asked any favors of them, and would not drink from a cup or pitcher that a Samaritan had handled. The woman knew this, and was greatly surprised that this strange young man of the Jewish race should speak to her. Jesus answered her: "If you knew what God's free gift is, and who he is that is asking you for a drink, you would have asked him instead, and he would have given you living water." As Jesus said these words, very thoughtfully, the woman looking and listening felt that this was no common man. She thought that he might be a prophet, a man whom God had sent to do mighty works and speak the words of God. She said, very respectfully: "Sir, you have nothing to draw water with, and the well is very deep. Where can you get your living water? Are you a greater man than our father Jacob, who dug this well and gave it to us, and drank of its water himself, with his sons and his sheep and oxen?" Jesus answered her: "Anyone who drinks this water will be thirsty again, but anyone who drinks the water that I will give him will never thirst any more. The water that I will give him will turn into a well of water springing up to everlasting life." "Oh, sir," said the woman, "give me some of your living water, so that I need not be thirsty nor come all this road to draw water." Jesus looked earnestly at the woman's face, and then said to her: "Go home; call your husband, and come here again." The woman's face clouded, her eyes dropped, and she looked as if she felt ashamed, while she answered in a low voice, "I have no husband." Jesus looked at her steadily, and said: "You have spoken the truth. You have no husband. But you have had five husbands, and the man with whom you are living now is not your husband. You spoke the truth in those words." The woman was filled with wonder as she heard the stranger speak. She saw at once that here was a man who knew everything. She was sure that God had spoken to this man and given him this knowledge of her. "Sir," said she, "I see that you are a prophet of God. Tell me, then, whether our people or the Jews are right. Our fathers have worshipped God on this mountain; but the Jews say that Jerusalem is the place where all should go to worship God." As she spoke, she pointed to the mountain that was standing near, Mount Gerizim, on the top of which was the temple of the Samaritans. "Woman, believe me," answered Jesus, "there is coming a time when men shall worship God in other places besides this mountain and Jerusalem. The time is near, it has even now come, when the true worshippers everywhere shall pray to the Father in spirit and in truth. God is a Spirit, dwelling everywhere, and those who worship him, must worship in spirit and in truth." [Illustration: Jesus sat beside the well, very tired and thirsty, but he had nothing with which to draw water. Suddenly he heard the sound of someone coming, and looking up saw a Samaritan woman with her water jar.] The woman said to Jesus: "I know that Messiah is coming, the Christ sent from God to be our King. When he comes he will explain everything to us." Then Jesus said to her, "I who am now speaking to you am he, the Christ!" Just at that moment the followers of Jesus, John and Peter, and the others, came back from the village with the food which they had bought. They were surprised to find their Master talking with a woman, but they said nothing. The woman had come to the well to draw water, but in her interest in this wonderful stranger she forgot all about her errand. Leaving her water-jar she ran back to the village and said to everybody whom she met: "Come with me and meet a man who told me everything I have done in all my life! Is not this man the Christ whom we are looking for?" After the woman went away toward her home, the disciples urged Jesus to eat some of the food which they had brought. A little while before Jesus had been hungry, but now in talking with the woman and leading her mind to the truth, he had forgotten his own needs. "I have food to eat," said he, "that you know nothing of." They looked at each other and said: "Can it be that someone has brought him something to eat?" But Jesus said to them, "My food is to do the will of my Father who sent me into the world, and to finish the work that he gave me to do. Do you say that there are four months before the harvest time will come? I tell you to look on the fields, and find them already white for the harvest. You shall reap and gain a rich harvest, gathering grain for everlasting life." Jesus meant that this woman, bad though she may have been before, was now eager to hear his words and to come to God. So his disciples would soon find the hearts of men everywhere, like a field of ripe grain, ready to be won and to be saved. Soon the woman came back to the well with many of her people. They all asked Jesus to come to their village and teach them. He went to the town of Sychar and stayed there two days, talking to the people about the Kingdom of God and showing them how they might enter into it. Many of the people in that place and near it believed in Jesus as the Christ, the King sent from God, and they said: "Now we have heard for ourselves and we know that this is really the Saviour of the world." [Illustration: Scene in Damascus, showing houses on the walls] THE NOBLEMAN'S BOY CHAPTER 21 [Illustration: Jacob's well as it is at the present time] AFTER STAYING two days in Sychar, the village near Jacob's well, Jesus and his disciples went on their way northward to the land of Galilee. They walked across the great plain where so many battles had been fought in the old times, and climbed the mountains beyond it. Nazareth, where Jesus had lived for so many years, was on his way, but Jesus did not at this time stop there, for he had in his mind to visit it a few weeks later. With his followers, Jesus came for the second time to Cana, the place where a few months before he had turned the water into wine. When Jesus was at Cana at his first visit, very few people had heard his name. But now everybody was talking about him, for all the people who had come home from the Feast of the Passover told their friends and neighbors of the wonderful young Prophet who had been preaching in Jerusalem, and had driven the men buying and selling out of the Temple, and had wrought wonders in curing the sick. About twenty miles from Cana was the city of Capernaum, on the shore of the Sea of Galilee. At Capernaum was living a man of high rank, an official of King Herod Antipas. This nobleman was in deep trouble, for his son was very ill with a great fever and lying at the point of death. The news that Jesus was again in Galilee, and only twenty miles away, brought to the nobleman a hope that perhaps this Prophet might be willing to come down from Cana to Capernaum and cure his son. [Illustration: In the court of a village home in Cana of Galilee] At once he made up his mind to go to Jesus and ask him to come and help him. It was a hard journey from Capernaum to Cana, twenty miles of mountain climbing; but this anxious father started very early in the morning, and came to Cana at about one o'clock in the afternoon. He found Jesus, told him how ill his son was, and begged him to come to Capernaum and cure him. Jesus did not seem very willing to go. He said to the nobleman: [Illustration: Site of Capernaum] "Unless you people are always seeing me do wonderful works you will not believe in me." "Oh, sir," pleaded the troubled father, "do come down quickly or my son will die!" "There is no need for me to come," said Jesus. "You may go home, for your son will live and will get well." These words would make a heavy trial to this man's faith in Jesus. For how could he know that his son would be well, without any sign given him by Jesus? And how could he understand that Jesus by a word could cure someone who he had not seen and who was twenty miles away? But the father at once believed the promise of Jesus. He did not even hurry home to see if his boy was cured, but waited until evening before starting upon his journey. The next day, as he was nearing home, his servants met him with the glad news: "Your son is living and is very much better." "At what time," said the nobleman, "did he begin to improve?" "It was yesterday," they told him, "at about one o'clock when the fever left him." The man was not surprised, for it was just as he had expected. That hour, one o'clock, was the very time that Jesus had said to him, "Your son will live." This miracle, or work of wonder, was much talked about and led not only this nobleman, but all his family with him, to believe that Jesus was the Saviour and the King of Israel who had been promised so long. The Carpenter in His Home-town CHAPTER 22 SOON AFTER the visit to Cana, and the cure of the nobleman's son, Jesus walked over to his old home at Nazareth, which was only six miles away. He thought of his sisters in that city, who were now grown women with children of their own, and he longed to see them. He thought, too, of the boys with whom in other days he had played and had sat in the school, now men with families; of his former neighbors, whom he had not seen for nearly a year. His heart was full of love for his own people, and he felt that out of the power God had given him he could speak to them words that would do them good. Of course, the people of Nazareth had heard wonderful stories about their former townsman; that he had suddenly come forth as a great teacher, speaking truths such as never had been heard before; and especially, that he had done wondrous works of curing the sick at Cana and at Capernaum. All these reports were surprising to the people of Nazareth, because among them Jesus had never shown any signs of greatness. He had sat in his seat in the church, but had never spoken from the pulpit; and they had known him as a good young man, kind and gentle toward all, and an honest, skilful workman at his trade. But they had never thought of him as a teacher, or a prophet bearing a message from God, or as a worker of wonders, such as they had heard of his doing in Cana and Capernaum. [Illustration: The people in the synagogue at Nazareth did not care for the words of Jesus. In their rage and fury they leaped from their seats and dragged him out of doors.] It was expected that Jesus on the Sabbath day would speak in the church at Nazareth (they called their church "the synagogue," a word that means "a meeting of the people"); and everybody was present to see him and to hear him. In a gallery on one side were his sisters, looking and listening, but unseen, because the women's gallery in all Jewish churches was covered with a lattice-work. There on the floor, seated on rugs or mats, were his neighbors and the people who had seen him grow up from a boy to a man. They were present, not to learn, but to listen and judge his words, and especially to see what great things he might do. Jesus walked up to the platform, and the officer in charge handed him the rolls on which were written the lessons for the day. This officer was at the same time the janitor or keeper of the building and the teacher of the school held there during the week. This man may have been the teacher who had taught Jesus as a boy to read. One of the lessons for that day was in the sixty-first chapter of the book of Isaiah the prophet. A part of it read thus: "The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, Because he hath set me apart to preach the gospel to the poor. He has sent me to say that the prisoners shall be set free, That the blind shall have their sight again, That the poor and suffering shall be given freedom, That the time of favor from God has come." While Jesus was reading from the Bible, he stood up, and all who were present also stood, for the Jews showed their respect for the Bible by standing whenever it was read. When he had finished the reading, he folded up the roll, handed it back to the officer, and sat down, and the people also sat down likewise. Often the man who preached in the synagogue or church was seated while speaking. Jesus began by saying: "Today this word of the prophet has come to pass in your hearing." And he went on to tell in simple, gentle words how he had been sent to preach to the poor, to set the prisoners free, to give sight to the blind and to bring the news of God's goodness to men. At first the people listened with the deepest interest, and their hearts were touched by his kind and tender words. But soon they began to whisper among themselves. One said, "Why should this carpenter try to teach us?" And another, "This man is no teacher! He is only the son of Joseph the carpenter! We know his brothers, and his sisters are living here." And some began to say, "Why does he not do here some of the wonderful things that they say he has done in other places? We want to see some of his marvelous cures with sick people!" Jesus knew their thoughts, but he would not do wonders merely to be seen by men. He said to them: "I know that you are saying, 'Let us see some wonderful work, like that on the nobleman's son in Capernaum.' I tell you in truth, that no prophet or teacher has honor among his own people. "You remember that in the days of Elijah the prophet, when the sky was shut up for three years and six months, and no rain fell, there was a great famine in the land and a need of bread. At that time there were many widows in the land of Israel, yet Elijah was not sent to any of these, but to a widow woman in Zarephath of Zidon, a foreigner and a Gentile. And in the time of Elisha the prophet after Elijah, there were many lepers in the land of Israel, yet none of these was made clean of his leprosy, but only Naaman the Syrian." These words, telling how God had chosen foreigners instead of Israelites for his works of wonder, made the people in the church very angry, for they did not care for the words of Jesus; they only wished to see him do some miracle or wonderful act. They would not listen to him; in their rage and fury, they leaped from their seats; they rushed upon the platform; they seized hold of Jesus and dragged him out of doors. They took him up to the top of the hill above the city, and would have thrown him down its steep side to his death. But the time for Jesus to die had not yet come. By the power of God, Jesus slipped quietly out of their hands and went away. He walked away very sadly from Nazareth, for he had longed to bring the good news of God's blessings first of all to his own people. [Illustration: Approach to Jerusalem, from the railroad station on the southwest] [Illustration: Jewish fishermen by the Sea of Galilee] Four Fishermen Called CHAPTER 23 THE PLACE which Jesus chose for his home, after being driven away from Nazareth, was Capernaum. This was a large city on the northwestern shore of the Sea of Galilee. Only one city beside the lake was larger--Tiberias. That was a new city, built by Herod, the ruler of Galilee, and named after the Emperor Tiberius at Rome. But Tiberias was not a Jewish city. It contained temples to idols, its people were foreigners, and very few Jews were willing to live within its walls. Then, too, Herod Antipas lived there in a palace which he had built, and Jesus did not wish to be near Herod. But Capernaum was a Jewish city, and Jesus felt that his work was to be among the Jews. At least four of the early followers of Jesus lived in Capernaum; two pair of brothers, Simon and Andrew, the sons of Jonas; and James and John, the sons of Zebedee. These four men were partners with Zebedee in the fishing trade. They owned a number of fishing boats and had men working for them. The lake was full of fish, and many people all around it lived by fishing. The fish in the Sea of Galilee were good food, and were sent to all the nearby cities. It is said that one emperor at Rome, not long after this time, had sent to him every week a barrel full of fish from the Sea of Galilee, for his table in the palace. The people of Capernaum had heard of Jesus, for all those who went up to the feasts in Jerusalem brought home reports of this wonderful teacher and healer of the sick. Wherever Jesus went, crowds gathered around him to listen to his words, and especially eager to see if he would do any of his wonderful works. [Illustration: LOWER GALILEE] One morning while Jesus was walking on the beach, he met some of his followers. Having now come to their own home, these men had gone back to their old work, as fishermen, and their boats were lying upon the shore. The men had been fishing in the night before, and they were now washing their nets upon the beach. Jesus spoke to one of his followers, Simon Peter, to push his boat a little way out into the water. He did so, and then Jesus sat down in the boat, while a great crowd stood on the shore, but within reach of his voice. Then from the boat as a pulpit he talked to the people on the shore. What he said at that time was not written down; but it was very much like his teachings as given in the Sermon on the Mount, which may be read in the fifth, sixth, and seventh chapters of the gospel by Matthew. There is no doubt that in his talks in many places to different crowds, Jesus often gave the same teachings over and over again. After Jesus had ended his speaking to the people, he said to Simon, who with the other fishermen was standing beside him: "Push out into the deep water, and let down your nets for a catch of fish." "Master," answered Simon, "we worked all last night and caught not a single fish. However, if you tell us to try again, I will let down the nets." They did so, and now their nets took in a great shoal of fish, so large a number that the nets began to break. Then they beckoned to their partners in the other boat to come and help them. They came, and helped to pull up the nets and to empty the fish into the boats. So many were the fish that they filled both the boats so full that they began to sink. When Simon Peter saw all this, he was struck with wonder and with fear, for he felt that this had been done by the power of God. He fell upon his knees in the boat to Jesus, saying: "O Lord, I am full of sin, and am not worthy of all this! Leave me, O Lord!" But Jesus said to him and to the other three men with him: "Do not be afraid; come after me; and from this time you shall be fishers of men." He meant that they were now to leave their nets and their boats, to stay with him; and after learning from him, they were to go out and show men the way out of sin into the Kingdom of God. As soon, therefore, as they had brought their nets and their fishes to the land, they left them with Zebedee, the father of James and John, and with the hired men. From that day these four men stayed with Jesus and went with him on all his journeys, listening to his words, until from hearing them often, they learned them and could repeat them to others. [Illustration: Pool of Hezekiah at Jerusalem] [Illustration: The disciples let down their nets and took in a great shoal of fish, so large a number that the nets began to break.] Jesus in the Church, in the House, and in the Street CHAPTER 24 THE STORY of the great catch of fish was told abroad, for many saw the boats loaded with the fish brought to the shore, and we may be sure that all who ate a breakfast of those fish spoke of the wonder. Partly as a result of this report, when the Sabbath day came, the church in Capernaum was crowded with people to see and hear this new Rabbi. "Rabbi" was the name that Jews gave to men who taught the law in their churches. Although Jesus had never taken the course of study at Jerusalem which would give him that title, he was generally called "Rabbi" by the people. The people listened with wonder to the words of Jesus, for his teaching was very different from that of the scribes who taught the law. He spoke on great things--the kingdom which God was soon to set up, and how the people were to be made ready for his coming. Then, too, he spoke with power, as Lord of all; and the listeners felt that these were the words of one who had been sent by God. [Illustration: From all parts of the city of Capernaum they brought those that were sick, or had evil spirits, and Jesus healed them all.] While Jesus was speaking in the church, the service was stopped by the loud screaming of a furious man who had come in. This man was suffering with a terrible evil, worse than any disease. Into his body had come in some way an evil spirit, a demon. This demon controlled the man and drove him to wild acts and words. The words which were spoken by this man's tongue were not his own, but the words of the wicked spirit within him. The spirit, using the man's voice, shrieked aloud: "Ha, you Jesus of Nazareth, let us alone! What business have you with us? Have you come to destroy us? I know who you are; you are God's Holy One!" But Jesus at once said to the wicked spirit in the man, "Be still, and come out of him!" At these words the demon threw the man down upon the floor, as if to kill him; and then went out of the man suddenly, leaving him almost dead. Soon they found that the man, whom everybody had feared before, so fierce had he been, was now perfectly well and quite free from the evil spirit. Then surprise and wonder came upon all. They talked about it to one another, saying: "What does all this mean? What new teaching is this? Why, this man speaks to the evil spirits with power, and they obey him and come out." As the people left the church they told everyone whom they met of this mighty act of Jesus. These men and women told others, and soon the news of Jesus' power went through all the towns and villages in that part of the land. After the service in the church was over, Jesus went home to dine in the house of Simon and Andrew, and with him went also the two brothers, James and John. In the house they told him that Simon's mother-in-law, the mother of his wife, was very ill, having a high fever. He came, stood by her bed, leaned over her and took her by the hand as if to raise her up. As he touched her, she felt a new power shoot through her body. Instantly the fever left her; she rose up from her bed, perfectly well, and helped to make ready the dinner and serve it. Jesus stayed in Simon's house that afternoon. When the sun went down and the Sabbath was ended, they found a crowd of people filling the street in front of the house. From all parts of the city they had brought people that were sick, or had evil spirits, like the man whom Jesus had cured in the church. As he came out of the house he laid his hands upon these sick people, one by one; and as soon as he touched them, they rose up well. The evil spirits in some of the men tried to speak to him. But he would not allow them, and gave them command at once to come out of the men in whom they were. They dared not to disobey Jesus, came out and went away. On that night, while everybody was sleeping, Jesus rose up long before day, while it was still dark, and went out of the city. He found a quiet place, with no houses or people near, and there for hours he prayed to his Father. In the morning he was missed, and Simon Peter, with the others, went out to look for him. They found him and said to him, "Master, come back to the city, for everybody is looking for you!" But Jesus said, "I was sent not only to your city but to other places also. Let us go out and visit the towns that are near. It was for this purpose that I have been sent by my Father, to preach everywhere the good news of the Kingdom of God." The Leper and the Palsied Man CHAPTER 25 FROM THE city of Capernaum Jesus went forth and visited all the villages on the western shore of the Sea of Galilee and on the mountains near by. He took with him his disciples or followers, that they might see his works and listen to his words. Great crowds of people came to hear him during this journey; and everywhere he cured all kinds of sickness and cast out of men evil spirits that were ruling them. At one place a man came to Jesus who was covered with a dreadful disease called leprosy and was called "a leper." No one ever touched a leper or even came near him, for they feared that a touch might cause the disease. A leper was driven out of the home, to live with other lepers in a camp outside the city. When he saw anyone coming near, he must stand at a distance, must cover his mouth with his garment, not to let his breath reach anybody, and must call out, "Unclean! Unclean!" so that no one might take his disease. Many lepers were in the land when Jesus was preaching; and lepers may still be seen in that country. This leper who saw Jesus came as near to him as he dared. He knelt down before Jesus, touching his head to the ground, and called out to him: "Oh, sir, if you choose to do it, you can take away my leprosy, and make my flesh pure and clean." Jesus was not afraid to touch the leper. He went to him and placed his hand upon him. Then he said: "I do choose; be clean!" And at once all this man's leprosy passed way. His skin lost its waxen, deadly whiteness, his eyes were bright, his deformed hands became perfect and his voice was no longer hollow and cracked. He was no more a leper, but was a man in perfect health. Jesus said to him, "Do not tell anyone of your cure; but go to the priest in the temple, let him see that you are clean, and make the offering of thanksgiving to God. Let the priest give you a writing to show that you are well, and then go to your own home." Jesus knew that if this man should tell very many of his cure, there would come such a crowd of people having diseases of all kinds, seeking to be made well, that he could have no time nor chance to preach the gospel, and his great purpose was, not to cure diseases, but to teach men the way to God. It is better to be saved from sin than to be cured of sickness. But this man was so happy at being made well that he could not be still. Everywhere he went he told people of his wonderful cure, and roused such a desire among the people to see Jesus that Jesus could not go to the cities, for so great were the crowds that he could no longer preach. Everybody was eager to be cured of some illness or to see Jesus cure others. Jesus was driven to seek the open country, where few people lived, and even there the crowds sought him, coming from many places. [Illustration: They broke open the roof and let the man down, wrapped in a blanket and lying upon a mattress, right in front of Jesus.] After some time, Jesus came again to Capernaum, which was now his home. As soon as the people heard of his return, they gathered in great crowds to see him, to hear him and to be cured of their diseases. He stood on the porch of a house, where every room was full of people, and a company was in front of him, crowding the court of the house to its utmost corner. In this throng were some who were ready to believe in Jesus; but there were also some men who had come from Judea to see who Jesus was, what he was teaching and what he was doing. These men did not believe in Jesus, but were there to find some fault with him. They belonged to a class called "the Pharisees," who claimed to be better than others, because they carefully kept all the rules of the Jewish law; but in their hearts they were far from good, and they were bitterly opposed to Jesus. While Jesus was speaking, four men came, carrying on a bed a man who was sick with the palsy, a disease which makes one helpless, unable to use his hands, to walk or to stand alone. They were very eager to bring this man to Jesus to be cured, but on account of the crowd they could not come into the house or even into the yard in front of it. They were bound, however, in some way to get this palsied man to Jesus. They climbed up to the roof of the house and pulled the sick man up. Then they broke open the roof, never minding the dust and litter that fell upon the heads of the people below. When they had made an opening large enough, they let the man down, wrapped in a blanket and lying upon a mattress, right in front of Jesus. All this showed their faith in Jesus. They believed that he could cure the palsied man, and were ready to take any trouble to bring him before the Saviour. Jesus looked at the man, and said to him: "My son, be of good cheer; your sins are forgiven!" Some of these Pharisees, the enemies of Jesus, were sitting near, and as they heard these words they thought in their own minds, though they did not speak it aloud: "What wicked words are these! This man speaks as though he were God! No man has the right to forgive sins; that belongs to God alone. What wickedness, for this man to pretend to have God's power!" [Illustration: The leper knelt down before Jesus and called out to him: "Oh, sir, if you choose you can make my flesh pure and clean."] Jesus knew their thoughts, for he could look into their hearts. He said to them: "Why do you think wicked things in your hearts? Which is the easier to say, 'Your sins are forgiven,' or to say, 'Rise up and walk'? But I will show you that while I am on earth as the Son of Man, God has given me the power to take away sin." Then he turned to the palsied man lying on the couch, and said with a voice of power: "I tell you, rise up, take up your bed, and go to your house!" In an instant a new life came to the palsied man. He stood upon his feet in full strength, rolled up his blanket, took up the mattress upon which he had been lying, placed it upon his shoulder and walked out through the crowd, which opened to make a way for him. Through the streets the man went to his home, praising God for his cure. By this act of healing Jesus had shown that he was the Son of God, with the right to forgive the sins of men. These Pharisees, the enemies of Jesus, could find nothing to say, but in their hearts they hated him more than before, for they saw that the people believed on Jesus. Wonder filled the minds of those who saw this cure; they praised the God of Israel and said to each other, "We have seen strange things today!" [Illustration: Jesus looked at Levi-Matthew and said to him: "Come, follow me!" At once Matthew rose and went after Jesus.] How the Tax-Collector Became a Disciple CHAPTER 26 SO GREAT were the crowds gathering from all parts of the land to see and hear Jesus, that no place could be found in the city of Capernaum large enough to hold the multitudes. The church was far too small; and there were no open places in the city where so great a company could meet. So every day Jesus went out of the city to the seaside, sometimes sitting in Peter's boat, sometimes upon the shore, while all the people stood upon the grass-covered hillside, with the blue sky above them and the blue lake before them, while Jesus spoke about the Kingdom of God and showed how every man could enter into the kingdom by turning from his sins and doing God's will. Among these crowds of people Jesus noticed one man standing, who listened closely to every word. This man was named Levi-Matthew. He was an officer of the government, called "a publican"; and it was his work to gather the taxes which the Roman rulers had laid upon the people. Everybody was called upon to pay money to the Romans, who were the rulers of the land. The people hated the Romans, who held the land under their power, and hated also these tax-gatherers, who were often selfish and unjust men, making the people pay more than they should, robbing the poor and taking much of the money for themselves instead of paying it to the Roman treasury. Because many of these tax-gatherers or publicans were cruel and selfish, all of them were looked upon as wicked. They were called "publicans and sinners," and the people despised them. One day Jesus was passing the office where Levi-Matthew sat at his table receiving the tax-money from the people. Jesus looked at the publican and said to him, "Come, follow me!" At once Levi-Matthew rose up, left his clerks and helpers to care for the money on the table, and went after Jesus. From that hour he was no longer a tax-collector; he became a disciple of Jesus, and followed him wherever he went, listening to his words and keeping them in his mind and memory. Many years afterward, when Jesus was no longer among men, Matthew wrote a book telling of what Jesus said and did. That book is the Gospel according to Matthew, the first book in the New Testament; and it tells what Matthew remembered of the teachings and acts of the Lord Jesus. So it was well for the people who lived after the time of Jesus, and for all the people who through the ages since have read that gospel, and for the millions all over the world who now read it, that Matthew the tax-gatherer became a disciple of Jesus. But for this man's prompt obedience to Christ's call on that day, that precious book would never have been written. Matthew wished his fellow-publicans to meet Jesus and hear his words. He gave a supper at his house to Jesus, and invited all the publicans or tax-gatherers in that part of the country to come. Many of them came, and with their friends sat down to the supper with Jesus. The Pharisees, who were enemies of Jesus, looked scornfully at Jesus sitting at the table with all the tax-gatherers around him. They said to the disciples of Jesus: "Why does your Teacher eat with those publicans and sinners?" They told Jesus of these words, and he answered: "Those who are well and strong have no need of a doctor, but only those who are sick. I did not come to call those who think themselves good, but those who know that they are sinful and want to be saved. But let those Pharisees learn the meaning of the text where God says, 'I prefer those who show kindness and mercy, to those who offer sacrifices upon the altar.'" This pointed to the Pharisees themselves, for while they were careful about fasting and saying their prayers and making their offerings in the Temple, they were often unjust and hard toward the poor. [Illustration: Mosque El Aksa, near the ancient Temple] [Illustration: Jesus saw lying there upon a mat a man who had been helpless and unable to walk for almost forty years. He said to him: "Would you like to be made well?"] The Cripple at the Bath CHAPTER 27 THE TIME came for another feast at Jerusalem, and as on the year before, Jesus went to attend it. We do not know whether his disciples were with him on this visit, for in the story as given by John in his gospel, they are not mentioned. On one Sabbath day, while Jesus was in the city, he walked past a public bath not far from the Temple. It was a large pool or cistern, where several could bathe at once; and beside it were five porches, forming an arched-over platform. These porches, when Jesus came to the pool, were crowded with people, all suffering with disease. Some were blind, some were lame and some had legs or arms all withered and palsied. At certain times the water in this bath used to bubble and rise up; then it would go down again and be quiet. The people believed that this bubbling up of the water was caused by an angel (whom no one could see) going down and stirring up the pool. They believed, too, that at such times when the water bubbled up, any person who was ill would be cured by taking a bath in the pool. We know that there are many springs whose water will cure diseases, and this pool may have been one of these health-giving springs. Jesus saw lying there upon a mat beside the bath one man who had been helpless, unable to walk for almost forty years. Jesus who knew all things, knew that this man had been ill for a long time. He said to him: "Would you like to be made well?" This man had never seen Jesus before and did not know who he was. "Sir," he answered, "there is nobody to put me in the bath when the water rises; but while I am trying to crawl down and get into the water, somebody who can walk steps in ahead of me." [Illustration: Pool of Bethesda from above] Jesus said: "Rise, take up your mat, and walk!" The crippled man had never heard words like these; but as soon as they were spoken, he felt a new power shooting through his body. He stood up for the first time in thirty-eight years, picked up his piece of matting, rolled it up and put it upon his shoulder. Then he started to walk toward his house, carrying his burden. You remember that it was on the Sabbath day that this took place. The Jews were exceedingly careful in keeping the Sabbath. God had said to their fathers many years before, "Remember the Sabbath day to keep it holy." But the Jews had added to this commandment many useless rules. They could not light a fire on that day, for that would be working; they could not hold a pen, for that would be carrying a load. These little rules had not been given by God, but had been made by the scribes or teachers of the law. Some people saw this man carrying his roll of matting through the street. They said to him: "Stop! don't you know this is the Sabbath day? You have no right to be carrying your bed." The man did not lay down his load. He said, "A man saw me helpless by the pool, for I was nearly forty years a cripple. This man made me well; and he it was who said to me, 'Take up your mat and walk.'" "Who was this man," said the Jews, "who told you to carry your bed on the Sabbath day?" The man who had been cured did not know who it was that had cured him, for many were standing near, and after healing the man Jesus had walked away without being noticed. Soon after, the man went up to the Temple to give thanks to God for his cure, and there he met his healer and learned for the first time his name. Jesus said to him at that time: "You are now free from the disease which for so many years has made you helpless. Do not sin any more against God, or something worse will come to you." The man went away and told the Jews that it was Jesus who had cured him. The leaders among the Jews, the priests, the scribes and the Pharisees, were very angry at Jesus, because he had made this man well on the Sabbath and because he had told the man to carry his mat on that day. The rulers tried to stir up the people against Jesus, saying that he was a Sabbath-breaker, and nobody should listen to his words. But Jesus said to them, "My Father works on all days doing good to men; and I do only what he does." He meant to show them that God sends his sunshine and his rain every day in the week, causing the grass and the grain and the flowers to grow as much on the Sabbath as on other days; and that it was right for him and for every man to do good works, helping men and curing their sickness, on the Sabbath day. But his words only made the Jews all the more angry, because he had spoken of God as his Father, making himself (they said) equal with God. They would have killed him if they could, so great was their hate against him. Jesus did not stay long in Jerusalem at this visit. Soon after the feast he went again to his home at Capernaum. The Lord of the Sabbath CHAPTER 28 THE QUESTION whether Jesus was a Sabbath-breaker or not, arose again soon after he came back to Galilee. On a Sabbath day Jesus was walking with his disciples through the fields of grain. Some of the disciples were hungry, and as they walked picked the heads of the wheat, rubbed them in their hands, blew away the chaff and ate the kernels of grain. The law of the Israelites allowed anyone walking by a field of grain to help himself to all that he wished to eat, but forbade him to take any to his home. But to the Pharisees, who were very exact in their rules of keeping the Sabbath, to pluck the grain was the same as reaping it with a sickle, to carry it in the hand was the same as bearing a load, and to rub it in the hands was the same as thrashing; and to do these on the seventh day of the week was breaking the Sabbath. These were rules, not given by God, but made by the scribes; and Jesus had already taught his disciples to pay no attention to them. The Pharisees were constantly watching Jesus and his followers, to catch them, if possible, in doing or saying something that might be thought wrong. They said to Jesus: "Do you see that your disciples are doing what is forbidden on the Sabbath day; picking the ears of grain, carrying handfuls of them and rubbing them in their hands?" "Have you never read," answered Jesus, "what David did when he was flying from King Saul; how he went into the house of God and took away the holy bread, laid on the table as an offering to God, which was to be eaten by the priests only; ate it himself and gave it to the men that were with him? And do you not know that the priests in the Temple do all kinds of work, killing animals for the offering, placing wood on the altar and many other things; yet they do right, for these things are necessary, and whatever is needful may be done on God's holy day. The Sabbath was made for the good of man and not man for the Sabbath. I tell you that One greater than the Temple is here, for the Son of Man is Lord of the Sabbath." [Illustration: Jesus and His Disciples in the field of grain] On another Sabbath day Jesus went into the church to worship God and to preach the word. A man was there whose hand was withered and helpless. The Pharisees watched Jesus to see if he would cure this man on the Sabbath. They hoped he would cure him, not because they cared for the poor, crippled man, but because they were eager to find something to say against Jesus. Jesus spoke to the man with the withered hand, "Stand up and come forward." The man stood up before them all; and then Jesus, looking straight at his enemies, said: "Is it against the law on the Sabbath day to do good or to do harm; to save a life, or to try to kill a man, as you are trying to do? If one of you men owns a single sheep, and he should happen on the Sabbath day to find it fallen into a pit, would he not take hold of it and lift it out? And how much more is a man worth than a sheep? Thus it is right to do a kind and helpful act on the Sabbath." [Illustration: The man with the withered hand healed by Jesus in the church] He looked around sternly at his enemies, being sad and grieved because their hearts were so hard. They did not have a word to say; and after waiting a moment he turned to the man with the withered hand and said: "Stretch out your hand!" He reached out his arm, and the withered hand was at once made well and strong, as sound as the other. Jesus went away, but the Pharisees were filled with anger against him. They talked together, seeking some way to kill Jesus; and they called upon the friends of King Herod, the ruler of Galilee, to see if they could not persuade the king to order that Jesus should be put to death. But Jesus went on teaching and curing those that were sick, paying no attention to the plans of his enemies. He told those whom he cured, not to go out and speak to others about him, but to stay quietly at home; for the crowds coming to hear him were already great, and he did not wish them to be any greater. So many people came together from all parts of the land, and even from places outside the land of Israel, from the country of Tyre and Sidon on the north and from Edom or Idumea on the south. They thronged around Jesus, and pressed upon him; so that he spoke to his disciples to have a little boat at hand, to wait upon him, and take him out into the lake for quiet and rest. Jesus on the Mountain CHAPTER 29 ABOUT TWELVE miles southwest from Capernaum and six miles west of the Sea of Galilee stands a mountain which can be seen many miles away. It is now called "Kurn Hattin," which means, "The double horns of Hattin." The name is given because the mountain has two tops, one at each end, and a wide hollow between them, its form making it look somewhat like a saddle or a camel with two humps. Near this mountain, roads ran to almost every part of the land of Israel, so that from every place it could be reached. The word went throughout the land that Jesus was coming to this mountain; and a great multitude of people gathered in the hollow place between its two crowns, all waiting to see Jesus. He came to the mountain and went up alone to one of its hill-tops. All night Jesus was there in prayer with his heavenly Father; for he had an important work to do, and before any great work Jesus prayed to God. In the morning he called forth out of the vast company of people before him twelve men, who were to be with him all the time, go with him wherever he should go, listen to his teachings, and learn them by heart, and be ready to preach his words when he should send them out. These twelve men Jesus afterward called "apostles," which means "men sent out"; but they were generally named "the twelve." They are also spoken of as "the disciples," although the word "disciples" is also used of all the followers of Jesus. Most of the twelve men had been called before, and had been for some time with Jesus. Others were new men whom Jesus called now for the first time. Their names are arranged in pairs, two of them together. They were Simon Peter and Andrew his brother; James and John, the sons of Zebedee; Philip and his friend Bartholomew, also called Nathanael; Thomas and Matthew, who had been the tax-gatherer; James the son of Alphaeus; another Simon, who was called "the Zealot," and Judas Iscariot, the one who afterward became the traitor and sold his Lord to his enemies. About most of these men we know very little, but some of them in later years did a great work for the church of Christ. Simon Peter was always a leader among the Twelve, being a man of quick mind and ready words; and John long after that time wrote "The Gospel according to John," one of the most wonderful books in the world. [Illustration: Kurn Hattin, where Jesus preached the Sermon on the Mount.] [Illustration: In the morning he called forth out of the vast company of people before him twelve men.] In the sight of all the people Jesus called these men to stand by his side. Then he came down from the mountain-top to the hollow place between the two summits. He sat down, with his twelve chosen men around him, and beyond this a great crowd of people. To the Twelve and to the listening multitude Jesus preached that great sermon which is called "The Sermon on the Mount." Matthew wrote it down, and you can read it in his gospel, the first book of the New Testament, in the fifth, sixth and seventh chapters. How fortunate it was that Jesus called the tax-gatherer to be one of his disciples, a man who could remember and write this great sermon for all the world to read! We give here only a few parts from this Sermon on the Mount. Jesus began with words of comfort to his followers: "Blessed are the poor in spirit; for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Blessed are they that mourn; for they shall be comforted. Blessed are the meek; for they shall inherit the earth. Blessed are they that hunger and thirst after righteousness; for they shall be filled. Blessed are the merciful; for they shall obtain mercy. Blessed are the pure in heart; for they shall see God. Blessed are the peacemakers; for they shall be called sons of God. Blessed are they that have been persecuted for righteousness' sake; for theirs is the kingdom of heaven." Then he spoke to his disciples of what they were to be among men: "You are the salt of the earth; but if the salt have lost its savor, wherewith shall it be salted? It is thenceforth good for nothing, but to be cast out and trodden under foot of men." He went on, perhaps pointing to a town not far away, built on the top of a hill and seen everywhere around: "You are the light of the world. A city set on a hill cannot be hid. Neither do men light a lamp, and put it under a bushel, but on the stand; and it giveth light to all the house. Even so let your light shine before men, that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father who is in heaven." He told his disciples how they should feel and act toward those who had done wrong to them: "Ye have heard that it was said, 'You shall love your neighbor, and hate your enemy.' But I say to you, love your enemies, and pray for those who do you wrong, that you may be sons of your Father in heaven: for he makes his sun to rise on the bad as well as the good, and sends rain alike on the just and on the unjust. For if you love only those who love you, what reward do you have? Why, the tax-gatherers whom you despise do as much. And if you speak only to your friends, wherein are you better than others? For even the Gentiles do the same. You should be perfect, as your heavenly Father is perfect." He spoke also of the aims which men should seek in their lives: "Lay not up for yourselves treasures upon the earth, where moth and rust destroy, and where thieves break through and steal; but lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust destroy, and where thieves do not break through nor steal; for where your treasure is, there will your heart be also. "No man can serve two masters: for either he will hate the one and love the other; or else he will hold to one and despise the other. You cannot serve God and Mammon, who is the god worshipped by this world. Therefore I say to you, do not be anxious for your life, what ye shall eat or what ye shall drink; nor for your body, what you shall put on. Surely, life means more than food, surely the body means more than clothes! Look at the birds flying above you; they do not sow, nor reap, nor gather into barns; and your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not worth more than the birds? "And why should you be anxious about your clothing? Look how the lilies of the field grow: they neither toil nor spin, and yet Solomon in all his glory was never robed like one of these! Now, if God so clothes the grass of the fields, which blooms today, and tomorrow is thrown into the fire, will he not much more clothe you, O you who trust God so little?" "Therefore do not be anxious, saying, 'What shall we have to eat?' or 'what shall we have to drink?' or 'how can we get clothes to wear?' Your heavenly Father knows that you need all these things. Seek the kingdom of God, and do right according to his will: then all these things will be yours. Do not be anxious about tomorrow, for tomorrow will be anxious for itself. Each day's own trouble is enough to be anxious over." Here is what Jesus said as the ending of his sermon: "Everyone who hears these words of mine, and acts upon them, is like a wise man, who built his house upon rock. The rain fell, the floods rose, the winds blew and beat upon that house, but it did not fall, for it was founded upon rock. "And every one that hears these words of mine, and does not act upon them, will be like a foolish man, who built his house on sand. The rain fell, the floods rose, the winds blew, and beat upon that house, and it fell, and great was its fall." When Jesus had finished these words, the crowds were filled with wonder at his way of teaching. He spoke with the authority of a Master, unlike their own scribes. Most of the scribes when they were teaching would speak in the name of earlier teachers, and say, "Rabbi Jonathan said this," or "Rabbi Hillel said that." But Jesus spoke in his own name, saying, "I say this to you." [Illustration: Jesus receives the message from the army captain: "Lord, do not trouble yourself to come to my house, for I am not worthy to have one so great under my roof; but only speak a word where you are, and my servant shall be healed."] The Good Army Captain CHAPTER 30 AT CAPERNAUM there was an officer of the Roman army, a captain, having under him a company of one hundred men. This man was not of the Jewish people, but a Gentile, which was the name that the Jews gave to all people outside of their own race. All the world, except themselves, the Jews called Gentiles. This army captain was a good man, and he was very friendly to the Jews, because through them he had heard of the true God, and had learned to worship him. Out of his love for the Jews he had built for them with his own money a church, and had given it to them. This may have been the very church in which Jesus taught on the Sabbath days. The army captain had a young servant, a boy whom he loved greatly; and this boy was very sick with the palsy and near to death. The army captain had heard that Jesus could cure those who were sick; and he asked the chief men of the church, who were called its "elders," to go to Jesus and ask him to come to the captain's house, that he might lay his hands on the boy and make him well. The elders spoke to Jesus soon after he came again to Capernaum, after preaching on the mountain. They asked him to go with them to the captain's house and cure his servant, and they added: "He is a worthy man, and it is fitting that you should help him, for though a Gentile, he loves our people, and he has built for us our church." Then Jesus said, "I will go and cure him." But while Jesus was on his way to the captain's house, and with him the elders and a company of people, who hoped to see another wonderful cure, he was met by some friends of the captain, who brought this message: "Lord, do not take the trouble to come to my house: for I am not worthy to have one so great as you are under my roof; and I sent to you, because I am not worthy to speak to you myself. But speak only a word where you are, and my servant shall be made well. For although I am myself a man under authority and rule, I have soldiers under me to carry out my will. I say to one man 'Go,' and he goes; I say to another man 'Come,' and he comes. I tell my servant, 'Do this,' and he does it. You, too, have power to command and be obeyed. Only speak the word and my servant shall be cured." When Jesus heard this he wondered at this man's faith. He turned to the crowd that followed and said: "In truth I say to you all, I have not found such faith as this in all Israel. And I tell you further, that many like this man, who are not Israelites, shall come from places in the east and the west, and shall sit down with Abraham, and Isaac, and Jacob in the kingdom of God. But many of those who are the children of Israel, because they have not believed, shall never enter into God's kingdom, but shall be thrust forth into the darkness outside." And Jesus said to those who came from the captain's house: "Go back and say to this man in my name, 'As you have believed, even so shall it be done to you.'" They went to the captain's house, and found his servant, who had been at the point of death, now free from his palsy and brought back to perfect health. How Jesus Stopped a Funeral CHAPTER 31 JESUS WENT on a journey for preaching through the southern parts of Galilee, as before he had visited the villages among the mountains near the sea. He walked out of Capernaum with the twelve disciples and a crowd of followers which grew larger as he went on. They passed by Mount Tabor, and just before sunset they came to a small city at the foot of another mountain, the Hill Moreh. This place was named Nain. Outside the gate Jesus and his followers paused to allow a funeral procession to pass by. In front were women wailing aloud, flinging their arms up and down and chanting a song about the young man who had died. The body was wrapped in long strips of linen, and was lying upon a couch, carried by bearers. After it walked an old woman, the young man's mother, who was a widow, burying her only son; and with her were many of the people in the city, showing their sorrow for the widow at the loss of her son. When Jesus saw this weeping mother, he felt a great pity for her and said to her, "Do not weep." He stepped forward and touched the couch on which the body was lying. The men who were carrying it stood still with wonder at the coming of this stranger, whose look showed power. Standing beside the dead young man, he said: "Young man, I say unto you, Rise up!" Instantly the young man sat up and began to speak. Jesus took him by the hand and gave him to his mother. She received him into her arms, and found his cold body now warm with life, the dull eyes now bright. Her son that had died that day was alive once more. The people who were looking on now felt that indeed a marvelous work had been done. Many of them had seen Jesus before, and knew him; and even those who had not seen him had heard of him, and said, "This must be that great teacher from Nazareth!" Many fell on their faces before him; and some said, "A great prophet has come among us," and others said, "Surely God has visited his people!" [Illustration: Ruins of Nain, near which Jesus restored to life the widow's son] The news that Jesus had raised a dead man to life spread through all the land and even to the countries around. More and more people after this sought to see Jesus and to hear his words. While Jesus was slowly journeying through southern Galilee, visiting the towns, teaching the people and curing the sick, two men came asking to see him. These men were followers of John the Baptist, who was still in the prison where Herod had sent him. In his prison John heard of the works that Jesus was doing and of the teaching that Jesus was giving. It may be that John was expecting Jesus to set up his kingdom at once, instead of merely going up and down the land as a teacher. Perhaps also, John, shut up in prison, had grown discouraged and doubtful. In other days he had said to all the people that Jesus was the Coming King, so high above him that he was not worthy to tie his shoestrings. But now these two men had brought from John this question to Jesus: "John the Baptist has sent us to you to ask--are you the Coming One, the promised King of Israel? Or are we to look for another?" Jesus did not at once answer this question. He acted for a time as though it had not been asked, and left these two men standing, while he turned to the people about him. [Illustration: Standing beside the dead young man, Jesus said: "Young man, I say unto you, rise up!" Instantly he sat up and began to speak.] At the Saviour's feet were many suffering people--the sick brought upon couches by their friends, the blind crying for sight, the deaf and dumb holding out their hands toward him, the lepers with all their horrible sores, the wild people in whom were evil spirits. Jesus attended to the needs of all these sufferers. He laid his hands upon the sick, and they rose up well; he touched the eyes of the blind and the ears of the deaf, and gave them their sight and hearing; he gave each leper a new, pure, perfect body; and he cast out the evil spirits by his words. Then he went on and made his usual talk to the crowds about the Kingdom of God, and how any man might come into it. When at last his morning's work of healing and teaching was over, he turned to these two message-bearers from John the Baptist, and said to them: "Go back and tell John in his prison what you have seen and heard. Here are men once blind who now can see; lame men who now can walk; leprous men who have been made clean; deaf men made to hear; men having in them evil spirits, who are now free from their power. You have heard too of dead men raised to life; and you have listened while the gospel has been preached to the poor. You go and tell John all these things that you have seen and heard. Then let John think about these things and judge whether I am not the One whom he promised should come." That was a far better way to bring John the Baptist back to believing fully in Jesus as the promised King of Israel and the Saviour of the world than to send the answer back, "Go and tell John that I am the Saviour." For John's faith would be the stronger, because he would now have the proofs that Jesus was the promised Lord. After these messengers from John the Baptist had left, Jesus began to talk to the people about John. Some may have thought that in sending this question to Jesus, John had showed weakness and a change of his mind. Jesus said to the people: "What was it that you went out to the desert to see? Was it a reed swayed to and fro by the wind? No, this man John was no weak, wind-shaken reed. Did you go out to look at a man clothed in the robes of a prince, and eating delicate food? No, that skin-clad man in the desert was no such princely person. To see such people you go to the palaces of kings. Come, what _did_ you go out to see? Was it a prophet, a man sent from God? Yes, I tell you, John the Baptist was indeed a prophet, and more than a prophet. He was the King's messenger, to prepare the way for the King himself. Of a truth, I tell you all that no greater man was ever born into this world than John the Baptist. And yet he that is least in the Kingdom of God is higher even than John." Jesus meant that those who could come into the Kingdom of God, as those who heard the gospel might come, were higher than even the greatest of those who prepare the way for the Kingdom. [Illustration: The Jaffa Gate of Jerusalem] The Sinful Woman Forgiven CHAPTER 32 WHILE JESUS was passing through southern Galilee, in one place a Pharisee named Simon invited him to his house for dinner. The Pharisees, you remember, were people who were supposed to be very religious, because they carefully followed all the rules about praying at regular hours every day, whether on the street or in their homes; fasting, or not taking food, on certain days; going to church three times every week, and doing many things to be seen by others, while they were often sharp and hard in their dealings with men. They seemed to be good, but often were not as good as they seemed. Everywhere the Pharisees were at heart enemies of Jesus. They watched him, but in no friendly spirit. This Pharisee, Simon, wished to know Jesus and to talk with him, although he did not believe in him. But he felt that Jesus, being only a common carpenter who had turned Rabbi, or teacher, was below himself in rank; and he did not treat him with respect. When a great man came to the house, the servants took off his sandals and washed his feet; they dressed his hair and poured fragrant oil upon his head. None of these things had Simon done to Jesus. He merely invited him to his house, and without even giving him water to wash his feet, all dusty with walking, he pointed him to his place at the table. In that land people did not sit down upon chairs at dinner. Around the table were placed couches or lounges, and on these the guests reclined, half lying and half sitting, their heads toward the table and their feet away from it. They could reach the table and help themselves to food or drink. Very little meat was eaten; and before being placed upon the table, it was always cut into small pieces, so that the guests needed no knives or forks. After each course of the meal, a servant passed around a bowl of water and a towel, and washed the hands of the guests. While Jesus, and perhaps his disciples with him, were at the table during the dinner, people were coming in and going out freely. Soon a woman came in, looked around, saw Jesus, and went toward the couch whereon he was lying. In her hand was a jar of fragrant oil. She broke the jar, not waiting to take out the stopple, and poured the oil upon his feet. She wiped his feet with her long flowing hair; she wept over them, dropping her many tears upon his feet; and she kissed them over and over again. All the people of that place knew who this woman was, and knew the life that she had lived. She had not been a good woman, but had been wicked, and was despised by all respectable people. Simon the Pharisee wondered that Jesus should allow such a woman to touch him. He thought within himself, though he did not say it aloud: "This man cannot be a prophet, as they say he is; for if he were a prophet he would know what a vile creature this woman is, and he would not permit her hands to touch even his feet." Jesus read the thoughts of the Pharisee, for he could look down into his mind. He said, "Simon, I have something to say to you." "Well, Teacher," answered Simon, "say it." [Illustration: She poured fragrant oil upon his feet and wiped them with her long flowing hair. And Jesus said to Simon: "As many as her sins have been, they are forgiven, for her love is great."] Then Jesus said, "There was a lender of money, to whom two persons owed a debt. One owed him five hundred pieces of silver and the other owed him fifty. Neither of these two men could pay his debt; and so the money lender let them both go free. Tell me now, Simon, which of those two men will love this man the most?" "I suppose," answered Simon, "the man who had the most forgiven." "You are right," said Jesus. Then he turned toward the woman, and went on, still speaking to Simon. "Do you see this woman? When I came into your house, you never even gave me water for my feet; but see, she has wet my feet with her tears, and wiped them dry with her hair. You never gave me a kiss of welcome; but this woman ever since she came in has been pressing kisses upon my feet. You never anointed my head with oil; but she has poured perfume over my feet. Therefore I tell you, Simon, that many as her sins have been, they are forgiven, for her love is great; while he to whom little is forgiven loves only a little." Then he spoke to the woman, "Your sins are forgiven." Those at the table began to whisper to one another, "Who is this that claims the right to forgive sins?" But he said to the woman, "Your faith has saved you; go in peace." After this he went on visiting the villages and telling the people the good news of the Kingdom of God. With him were his twelve chosen disciples. Besides these men were some women whom Jesus had cured of different diseases. One was Mary Magdalene, from whom Jesus had cast out no less than seven evil spirits. Another was Joanna, the wife of a nobleman named Chuza, who was a high officer in the court of King Herod Antipas, the ruler of Galilee. Another was named Susanna; and with these were a number of other women. Some of these were rich, and gave freely of their money to help Jesus. Jesus and His Enemies CHAPTER 33 AFTER HIS journey through southern Galilee, which was the second of his preaching journeys in the land, Jesus came again to Capernaum. With him came a great multitude of people who had listened to him and longed to hear more of his words. For every one who met Jesus was drawn to him in love and desired to be with him. Nearly all who heard him loved him, but not all. Both the scribes, who were the teachers of the people in the law of Moses, and the Pharisees, who pretended to a religion which was false and not real, hated Jesus more and more and spoke evil of him to the people. They declared that a wicked spirit was in him, and that his power to work wonders came from Satan, the evil one. One day there was brought to Jesus a man in whom was an evil spirit; and the spirit had taken away both his sight and his hearing, so that he could neither see, nor hear, nor speak. Jesus spoke to the evil spirit in the man, saying: "Come out of this man, O wicked spirit, and never enter into him again!" The evil spirit left the man's body, and for a moment he lay on the ground as though he were dead. But soon he rose up, entirely well and able to see, to hear and to speak. All those who saw this cure were filled with wonder, and many said, "Is not this the Son of David, whom the prophets promised should come and be our King?" But when the Pharisees and scribes heard of this wonder, they said, "This fellow casts out the evil spirits because the chief of all the evil spirits is in him and gives him this power." Jesus knew their thoughts, and he said: "Any kingdom that is divided into two sides that are fighting each other will soon fall in pieces; and any family where people are quarreling will soon come to naught. If Satan, the evil one, is casting out evil spirits, then Satan's kingdom will soon fall, for it is divided against itself. But if by the power of God I cast out the bad spirits from men, then you may be sure that God is among you." But this report that Jesus was possessed by evil spirits went abroad among the people, and some believed it. It came to the brothers of Jesus, who at that time did not fully believe in him; and it came to Mary his mother, filling her with alarm. She feared that her Son, working without any rest, and bearing such heavy loads of care, had lost his mind. Some said that the family of Jesus should take him home and not allow him to disturb the people, for they said, "He is beside himself!" Mary and her sons came to the house where Jesus was talking to the people and curing the sick. So great was the crowd around the door that they could not get into the house, and they sent word inside that the mother of Jesus and his brothers were out in the street and wished to speak with him. They told Jesus: "Your mother and your brothers are outside and they wish to speak with you." But he answered the man who told him, "Who is my mother, and who are my brothers?" He turned to his disciples, stretched out his hands, and said: "Here are my mother and my brothers! Whoever will do the will of my Father in heaven, that one is my brother, and my sister and my mother!" Jesus meant by this that dear as his mother was to him, those who were ready to follow his teachings were dearer still. Some of the scribes and Pharisees spoke to Jesus, saying: "Teacher, show us some sign that you have come from God." They wished him to work some miracle, some wonder in their sight. But Jesus never would do any of his great works merely to be seen. He cured the sick and cast out evil spirits out of pity for people in trouble, but not as a show of his power. He said to these people: "It is a wicked and unfaithful time when people seek for a sign. I will give you no sign now, but after a time you shall see a sign, though you will not believe it. It will be the sign of the prophet Jonah. For as Jonah was three days inside the great fish, so I the Son of Man will be three days under the ground, and like Jonah will come forth living. "The people of Nineveh, to whom Jonah preached, will rise up in the day when God shall judge the world, and they shall show that they were better than the people of this time, for when Jonah preached to them, they turned from their sins and sought God. And One greater than Jonah is here, yet they will not listen to him! "The Queen of Sheba will rise up in the day of judgment with the people of this time, and will prove them to be unfaithful. For she came from the ends of the earth to hear the wise words of Solomon; and one greater than Solomon is here, yet you will not listen to him." The Story-teller by the Sea CHAPTER 34 SOON AFTER his journey through southern Galilee, Jesus began to teach in a new form, that of telling stories to the people. Everybody likes to listen to a story, and sometimes a story will go to the heart when the plain truth will fail. Story-tellers have always been very abundant in the East, where Jesus lived. Even today may be found everywhere men who go from place to place telling stories, and the people flock around them and listen to their stories from morning until night. But the stories that Jesus told were very different from those of the Eastern story-tellers. His stories were told to teach some great truth, and on that account were called "parables." A parable is a story which is true to life--that is, a story which might be true, not a fairy story--and which also has in it some teaching of the truth. [Illustration: "Once a sower went out to sow his seed. Some seed fell on stony ground and some fell among briers and bushes."] One day Jesus went out of the city of Capernaum and stood on the beach by the Sea of Galilee. A great crowd of people gathered around him, for all the opposition of the scribes and Pharisees could not keep the common people away from Jesus. The throng was so great, crowding around Jesus, that as before he stepped into a boat and told his disciples to push it out a little from the shore. Then he sat down in the boat, fronting the great multitude that filled the sloping beach. He said to the people: "Listen! Once a sower went out to sow his seed. And as he was scattering the seed, some of it fell on the path, where the ground had been trodden hard. The seed lay there on the path until the birds lighted upon it and picked up all the kernels, so that none of them grew. "Some of the seed fell on places where there was a thin covering of earth over stones. There the kernels grew up quickly, just because the soil was thin. But when the hot weather came, the sun scorched the tender plants, and they all withered away, because they had no moisture and no root in deep earth. "Some other of the seeds fell among briers and bushes, and there was no room for the grain to grow up. It lived, but it did not bring forth heads of grain, because it was crowded and choked by thorn bushes all around it. "But there were some other of the seeds that fell into ground that was soft and rich and good. There they grew up and brought forth fruit abundantly. Some kernels gave thirty times as many as were sown, some sixty times and some a hundred times." Jesus did not tell the people what the teaching of the parable was. He only said, "Whoever has ears, let him hear what I have spoken." He meant that they should not only listen but think and find out for themselves the meaning. When Jesus was alone with his disciples, they said to him: "Why do you speak to the people in parables? What do you mean to teach in this story about the man sowing seed?" Jesus said to them: "To you who have followed me it is given to know the deep things of the Kingdom of God, because you seek to find them out. But to many these truths are spoken in parables, for they hear the story, but do not try to find out what it means. They have eyes, but they do not see, and ears, but they do not hear. For they do not wish to understand with the heart and turn to God to have their sins forgiven. But blessed are your eyes, for they see, and your ears, for they hear. Listen now to the meaning of the parable of the sower. "The sower is the one who speaks the word of God, and the seed is the word which he speaks. "The seed on the roadside, the trodden path, means those who hear, but do not take the truth into their hearts. Then the Evil Spirit comes and, like the birds, snatches away the truth, so that they forget it. "The seeds on the rocky soil are those who hear the word and seem to take it gladly into their hearts; but they have no root in themselves; just as soon as they meet with any discouragement or trouble, or find enemies to the truth, they are turned away and their goodness does not last. "That which is sown among the thorns and briers are those who listen to the word, but the worries of life, and the desire for money, and the pleasures of the world, crowd the word in their hearts, and the gospel does them but little good. "But the seed sown on the good ground are those who listen to the gospel and understand it; who take the word into honest and good hearts and keep it and bring forth fruit in their lives." More Stories Told by the Sea CHAPTER 35 HERE IS another parable story that Jesus told to the people as he sat in the boat and the people stood on the shore. This is the parable of "The Wheat and the Weeds." "There was a man who sowed good wheat in his field; but while people were asleep, an enemy came and scattered the seed of weeds over all the ground. Then the enemy went away, leaving his seed to grow up. When the sprouts of grain began to form into heads of wheat, the men saw that everywhere in the field the weeds were among them, for weeds always grow faster than good seed. "So the servants of the farmer came to him and said: "'Did you not, sir, sow good seed in your field? How comes it that it is full of weeds?' "He said to them, 'Some enemy of mine has done this.' "'Shall we go,' said the servants, 'and pull up the weeds that are growing with the wheat?' "'No,' answered the farmer, 'for while you are pulling the weeds, you will root up the wheat with them. Let them both grow together until the harvest; and in the time of the harvest, I will say to the reapers, "When you have cut down all the crop, then take out the weeds and put them into bundles to be burned; but gather the wheat into my barn."'" Jesus gave to the people another parable about "The Growing Grain." He said, "The kingdom of God is as if a man should throw seed upon the ground. The sower will sleep every night, while the seed will spring up, he cannot tell how. The ground bears fruit of itself, first the little shoot, then the ear of grain, and then the full head of grain. But when the heads of grain are ripe, he puts in his sickle and reaps, because the harvest is come." [Illustration: Jesus teaching by the Sea of Galilee] His next parable was "The Mustard Seed." "The kingdom of heaven," said Jesus, "is like a grain of mustard seed which a man took and sowed in his field. This is the smallest of all seeds; but it grows up to become a bush so large that it is like a tree, putting out great branches, and the birds light upon them and rest under their shadow." [Illustration: While people were asleep, an enemy came and scattered the seed of weeds over all the ground] Jesus gave one more parable, "The Leaven, or Yeast." He said, "The kingdom of God is like the leaven or yeast that a woman uses when she makes bread. She mixes up a very little yeast in a large mass of dough, and leaves it to rise. Presently all the dough is changed by the yeast, and made into good bread. So it is with the truth to those who take it into their hearts." After Jesus told these five parables, "The Sower," "The Wheat and the Weeds," "The Growing Grain," "The Mustard Seed," and "The Leaven," he sent the crowd away and went into a house with his disciples. When they were alone they said to him, "Tell us what is the meaning of the parable of 'The Wheat and the Weeds.'" Jesus answered them, "He who sows the good seed is the Son of Man, whom God has sent into the earth. The field is the world. The good wheat are those who hear his word and are the children of God. The weeds are the children of the wicked one. The enemy that sowed them is the devil, Satan. The harvest is the end of the world and the reapers are the angels of God. Just as the weeds are gathered from among the good grain and burned in the fire, so shall it be at the end of the world. The Son of Man will send his angels, and they will gather out of his kingdom all that do evil and cause harm, and shall throw them into the furnace of fire; there men will weep and wail and gnash their teeth. But in that day, the children of God, the true wheat, shall shine like the sun in the kingdom of their heavenly Father." Then to his disciples, not to the crowd, Jesus gave three more parables. The first was "The Hid Treasure." He said, "The kingdom of heaven is like a heap of money which a man found while he was working in a field. He hid it again, and told no one about it; but went home, sold all that he had and gladly bought that field, that the treasure might be his own." The next parable was that of "The Pearl." "There was a man who went into many places to find pearls, which he bought to sell to others. In one place he found a pearl of great price, far more precious than any that he had seen before. He went and sold everything that he had, and with the money bought that pearl." The last of these parables was "The Drag Net." "Once more," said Jesus, "the kingdom of heaven is like a large net that was cast into the sea and took in fishes of every kind, large and small, good and bad. When the net was full they drew it to the shore. There they sat down and took the fishes out, one by one. They looked them over and put the good fish, those that were fit to be eaten, into baskets, but those that were useless they threw away. So will it be at the end of the world. The angels will come and will take out the people that are wicked from among the good, and shall fling them into the furnace of fire; there men will weep and gnash their teeth." After Jesus had finished telling these parables to his disciples, he said to them, "Have you understood all these?" They said to him, "Yes, we have." And he said to them, "Every teacher who has been made a learner in the kingdom of God is like a man who brings out of his store some things that are new and some that are old." [Illustration: Jesus looked around, saw the dashing waves and said just these words: "Peace, be still!"] Sailing Across the Sea CHAPTER 36 AFTER THE day of teaching in parables, when the evening came on, as the crowds were still pressing upon Jesus and giving him no time to rest, he said to his disciples: "Let us sail across the lake to the other side." So they made ready the boat and took Jesus on board. Some of the people were so eager to be with Jesus that they also went into other boats and sailed with him. Jesus was very tired after his day of teaching and he lay down in the rear end of the boat, resting his head upon one of the cushions. In the steady motion of the oars and the gentle rippling of the waves, Jesus soon fell asleep, while the boat moved onward over the lake. Soon the night came and the disciples rowed on in the darkness. On the Sea of Galilee, storms often arise very suddenly. The water may be perfectly calm for a time and then in a few minutes lashed into fury by the wind. So it came to pass while Jesus was sleeping. A great wind arose, the waves rolled high and dashed into the boat; but Jesus slept on peacefully. At least four of the twelve disciples, and we know not how many more, were fishermen. They knew how dangerous these sudden storms might be; and as they saw the boat filling with water and beginning to sink, they were frightened. Coming to Jesus, they awoke him, crying out, "Master, Master, we are lost! Help us or we shall drown!" The storm, with all the noise of creaking sails and roaring winds and dashing waves, had not awaked Jesus, but the cries of his frightened disciples aroused him from his sleep. He looked around, saw the dashing waves and said just these words: "Peace, be still!" At once the wind ceased, the waves smoothed down and there was perfect calm upon the sea. Then Jesus spoke to his disciples, saying: "Why are you so fearful? Have you so little faith in me?" They might have known that whether their Master was awake or asleep, they were safe if he was with them. They wondered at this new proof of Jesus' power, and said to each other: "Who can this be that can speak to the winds and the waves and they obey his words!" They were sailing from Capernaum in a direction southeast, and after rowing about seven miles, they came to the eastern shore of the lake, where was a village called Gerasa. This region was called "the country of the Gadarenes," from a large city, Gadara, not far away. It was a part of Decapolis, a name given to all the country on the east of the Sea of Galilee. The word Decapolis means "The Ten Cities," and because in that land were ten large Roman cities, the whole country was called "The Country of Ten Cities." It must have been very early in the morning when Jesus and his disciples brought their boats to the shore at Gerasa. Just as they were landing, a man came running down the hill to meet them, and from his wild acts they saw that he was one of those wretched people who were under the power of evil spirits. This man wore no clothes; he would not live in any house, but stayed in the caves in the hillside, which were used as burial places. They had tried to bind him with ropes and chains, but when the evil power was on him, he would break all his bonds and even snap his chains apart. He stayed all the time among the tombs, crying, moaning and gashing himself with sharp stones. This wild man ran toward Jesus and fell at his feet. As soon as Jesus saw the state he was in, he spoke to the evil spirit within the man: "Come out of this man, you vile spirit!" The spirit answered Jesus, crying out, "Jesus, son of the Most High God, what business have you with us? In the name of God, I call upon you not to make us suffer!" Jesus saw that this man's state was far worse than even most of those who were ruled by evil spirits. He said to the spirit, "What is your name?" "My name is Legion," answered the evil spirit; meaning that in the man was not only one, but many of the evil spirits, a whole army of them, for the word "legion" means an army. The demons, or evil spirits, begged Jesus not to send them far away. On the top of the hill was a herd of many hogs feeding. The Jewish people were not allowed to keep hogs nor to eat their flesh, so this drove of hogs must have belonged to foreign people, whom the Jews called Gentiles. The evil spirits asked Jesus if when they left the man, they might go into these hogs; and Jesus allowed them. Then the demons or evil spirits went out of the man, leaving him lying upon the ground, naked but well. They went into the drove of hogs, and the hogs instantly became wild and could not be controlled. They rushed in a great mass down the steep side of the hill and into the water. There they were all drowned, about two thousand in number. The men who kept the hogs ran to the town near by, and told all the people what had happened; how the demons at the command of this stranger had left the man, had gone into the drove of hogs and had caused them to drown in the waters. The people of the city came out to see for themselves what had taken place. They saw the man in whom had been the fierce evil spirits, now sitting at the feet of Jesus, clothed and in his right mind, calm and peaceful. [Illustration: The evil spirits went out of the man into the hogs, causing them to rush down the hill into the water] These Gadarene people evidently knew nothing of Jesus and the many good works that he had done. They were filled with dread of his power, and scarcely looking at the man whom Jesus had helped so wonderfully, thought only of the hogs which they had lost. They begged Jesus to go away from their land and not to come to their town. Think what blessings Jesus might have brought to them, in curing their sick, giving sight to the blind, and hearing to the deaf, besides the good news of his teaching! But with no knowledge of these good gifts, they asked Jesus to leave them. And Jesus took them at their word. Sadly he turned away, went down to the beach and stepped into the boat. The man who had been set free from the evil spirits begged most earnestly to be allowed to go with Jesus. He may have feared that the people of the city would be angry with him because the demons in him had killed their hogs; or he may have thought that the evil spirits might come back to him if he was left alone, without his mighty helper near. He knew that he would be safe if he were with his Lord, and he asked again and again that he might go away with Jesus, wherever he might go. But Jesus would not grant his prayer. He said to the man: "Go home to your own people, and tell them what great things the Lord has done for you, and how he has taken pity on you." The man went through all the country of Decapolis and told everybody whom he met what great things Jesus had done for him. When they heard this, they all wondered, and no doubt many wished that they had welcomed Jesus instead of sending him away. [Illustration: Joppa] [Illustration: The woman came forward trembling with fear and told Jesus how she had touched his clothing and been made well. Jesus said to her: "Daughter, your faith has made you well."] The Sick Woman Made Well and the Dead Girl Brought to Life CHAPTER 37 A GREAT CROWD of people were on the shore at Capernaum, looking earnestly over the sea. On the evening before they had seen Jesus with his disciples in their boats pushing off from the beach and sailing out into the lake; and now they were watching for their return. Close by the water was standing one man, whose face showed that he was in great trouble, as he gazed anxiously in every direction over the sea. This man was named Jairus. He was the chief elder over the church in the town, which they called the synagogue. At home his little daughter twelve years old was lying very ill and likely to die at any moment. Jairus knew that if Jesus should come ashore in time, before his daughter would die, he could save her life; so with hope and fear mingled, he stood on the shore watching for Jesus to come, but fearing that he might come too late. At last he could see the large boat rising in sight and drawing nearer, with other smaller boats around it. Before Jesus could step ashore, Jairus fell down upon his face before him and cried out: "O Master, come to my house just as soon as you can! My little daughter is lying at the point of death; I pray you, come and lay your hands upon her so that she may live and be made well." Jesus went with him, and all the crowd followed, pressing closely upon him; some showing pity and hope for Jairus in his trouble, but more of them wishing to see Jesus do one of his wonderful works. In the edge of the crowd was standing a poor woman, wasted by sickness and as pale as death. She had a running sore, which for twelve years had drained away her blood. She was very eager to go to Jesus, for she believed that he could cure her sore, although many doctors had tried in vain to help her. She had spent all her money upon the doctors, one after another, but no one of them had done her any good, and she was all the time growing worse. Jesus was in the middle of this great crowd, and this woman was very weak, but by making a strong effort she was able to get near enough to Jesus, not to speak to him, but to reach her hand between those who were walking nearest to him and to touch his clothes. Suddenly a great hope arose in her heart. She said to herself, "I really believe that if I can just touch the Master's clothes I will be made well!" She reached out with trembling hand and touched the outer robe of Jesus. In an instant she felt a strange power come into her body and she knew that the sore was cured. She was well and strong! At that moment Jesus stopped in his walk, while Jairus was trying to hurry him onward. He stood still, looked all around, and said, "Who touched my clothes?" His disciples were beside him, and Peter answered: "Why, Master, the crowd is all around, pressing close upon you, and yet you say, 'Who touched me?' while people are touching you all the time." But Jesus said, "I am sure that somebody touched me, because I felt that power had gone out from me." As he stood still and looked all around to see who had done this, the woman came forward out of the crowd and fell down at his feet, trembling with fear, afraid that she had offended him. She told of what she had suffered, how she had touched his clothing and had been made well. Jesus said to her: "Daughter, your faith has made you well; go in peace and be free from your sickness." But while Jesus was delaying for these few moments, Jairus was standing by his side in growing alarm, for to him and his dying child every minute was precious. Just then some one from his own house came up to him through the crowd and said: "Your daughter is dead; what is the use of asking the Teacher to come any further? Not even he can help her now." These people had not heard how Jesus some weeks before had raised to life the widow's son at Nain, for that village was at least twenty-five miles from Capernaum. But Jesus spoke encouragingly to the sorrowing father. "Have no fear; only believe, and she shall yet be well." They went to the house of Jairus, and the crowd would have followed him inside, but Jesus forbade them. He allowed none to go with him into the house, except the father and three of his disciples, Peter, James and John. The house was full of people, weeping and wailing, playing on flutes and making a great noise, as the manner was then and is even now in that land. Men and women are paid to come to the house where one is lying dead, and to scream and cry aloud, so that all in the town may know of the death and of the sorrow of the family. Jesus said to the people in the house, "Why do you make such a noise? The little girl is not dead, but only sleeping." [Illustration: Jesus went into the room where the daughter of Jairus was lying dead on the bed, and taking her hand into his own said: "Little girl, I say to you, rise up!"] Jesus meant by these words that we need not be filled with sorrow when our friends die; for death is only a sleep until the time when God shall awaken them. But this they did not understand; and they would not be comforted, for they knew that the child was dead. Jesus ordered all these hired mourners to leave the house. He went into the room where the dead child was lying on the bed, taking with him only her father and mother, with his three chosen disciples. Standing beside the dead body, he took its little hand into his own and said: "Little girl, I say to you, rise up!" And instantly the girl stood up, looked around and began to walk. How happy were that father and mother as they clasped in their arms their little girl, no longer dead, but living and well. All were filled with wonder. They would have told everybody about this mighty work, but Jesus said to them: "Give the child something to eat, but do not talk about her being brought back to life. Tell no one of it." [Illustration: Jesus healing the sick] Sight to the Blind and Voice to the Dumb CHAPTER 38 AS JESUS was coming out of the house where he had raised to life the young girl, two blind men met him; for the news of his return to Capernaum had gone abroad, and these two men, eager to obtain their sight, at once set out to find Jesus. They followed Jesus on the street, crying out aloud: "Have mercy on us, O Son of David!" You know that Jesus came from the family of which David had been the head long before. All the people looked for him, as sprung from David, to take David's throne, and like David, become king over all the land. The people who believed that Jesus was to be king often called him "Son of David." These two blind men followed Jesus, crying to him, until he went into the house where he was staying, which may have been the house where Simon Peter lived. The blind men came into the house after Jesus. He said to them: "Do you believe that I can do this which you desire?" They answered him, "Yes, Lord, we believe that you can." Then Jesus placed his hands upon their eyes, first on one man and then on the other. As he touched their eyes, he said to them, "As you believe, let it be done to you." At once their eyes were opened and they could see. Jesus spoke to them very strongly, and gave them special orders, saying, "See that nobody knows of this." He did not wish always to have crowds around seeking for miracles of healing, for he felt that he had a greater work to do in preaching to the souls of men than in curing their bodies. But these men went away and told all whom they met what a wonderful thing Jesus had done for them. It was not strange that they should speak of it, even though he had forbidden them, for all who had known them before as blind men saw the great change in their looks, now that they could see, and asked them how it had come to pass; so that it was not easy to avoid telling people about it. But wherever it was told, people who had any disease, or were blind, or deaf and dumb, or lame, were filled with desire to find Jesus and be made well. Soon after these two men left Jesus, cured of their blindness, another man was brought to Jesus. This was a dumb man, in whom lived an evil spirit. Jesus always cast out the evil spirits, without waiting to be asked, whenever he found them ruling over men. He spoke to this evil spirit, and it left the man. Then all at once the man began to speak, for it was the evil spirit in him that had made him dumb. All the people wondered, and said to one another: "Such power as this has never before been seen in the land of Israel!" But the scribes and Pharisees, who were enemies of Jesus, said again, as they had said before: "This man casts out the evil spirits, because Satan, the prince of the evil spirits, helps him." Twelve Preachers Sent Out CHAPTER 39 JESUS HAD now preached in nearly all parts of Galilee, except in the middle portion, the region around Nazareth, the home of his younger days. You remember that when he had tried to speak in Nazareth, soon after coming from Judea, the people refused to listen to him, thinking that one who had been only a workingman and not a Rabbi or scribe could not teach them anything. But Jesus loved those people in Nazareth, for many of the men had been with him boys at school; and his own sisters lived there with their children, boys and girls, who were his nephews and nieces. He longed to see them all, and made up his mind to go again to Nazareth, and see if its people would this time listen to him. On his earlier visit he had been alone, and the men of Nazareth in their anger had tried to kill him by throwing him down a very steep hill; but now Jesus had with him his twelve disciples and many more who followed him from place to place. On this visit the men of Nazareth did not venture to do him harm, because of his many friends around him. As before, Jesus went to the village church on the Sabbath day and preached. Again the people listened to him with wonder at his words; but again they said: "Is not this the carpenter who used to make plows and hoes and tables for us? How can he teach us?" He could only do a few of his great works, because the people would not believe in him. He did, indeed, lay his hands upon a few that were sick, and made them well; but he could only wonder at the hardness of heart in those among whom he had lived so many years. Leaving Nazareth with a sad heart, he went around the villages in middle Galilee, teaching in the churches and curing sickness of all kinds. As he saw how poor the people were, how little they knew of the truth, and how greatly they longed for it, he felt a great pity for them. They seemed to Jesus like sheep that were lost and wandering, not having any shepherd. He said to his disciples: "The harvest truly is rich, but the workers in it are very few. Pray very earnestly to the Lord of the harvest that he may send out workers to gather in his harvest." [Illustration: "Peace be to this house"] Jesus knew that the time of his work in Galilee was nearly ended. There were other parts of the land of Israel where he had not yet preached, and he wished to visit them. He knew, too, what none but himself knew, that in a year he would be taken away from the earth, and his disciples would be left alone to carry on his work and preach to all the people the news of God's kingdom. He made up his mind to send out his twelve disciples, whom he named "the apostles," and to let them begin their work by preaching in the villages of Galilee which he had not found time to visit. So he called together his twelve disciples, and divided them into pairs, sending two men together, that they might help each other. He poured upon them some of his own power to cure diseases and to cast out evil spirits from men. He gave them commands about their work, to whom they should go and how they should act. He said: "Do not go to any city of the Gentiles, the foreigners; and keep away from the villages of the Samaritan people. Your work just now is to be among the lost sheep of the house of Israel. Go to the Jews throughout the land, and tell them that the kingdom of God has come, and that they may enter it. Cure the sick, raise the dead to life, cleanse the lepers, cast out the evil spirits from men. Give freely, without being paid; for you have received the gift of God freely. "Do not take with you any money of gold or silver or copper in your girdle; nor a bag to carry food for the road; nor two shirts, nor a pair of shoes; but go wearing only sandals on your feet. For God's workman deserves his food, and it will be given to him. "When you come to a village, ask for some good man, go to his house, and stay there while you are in that village. Do not go visiting from one house to another. When you come to a house say, 'Peace be to this house.' If the people dwelling in that house are worthy of your peace, then peace shall be given to them; if they are not worthy, your peace shall come back to you. And if in any place the people will not hear you nor give you welcome, then as you go out of that house or that city, take off your sandals and shake the dust of that place from them as a sign. I say to you in truth that in the day of judgment it shall be worse for the cities that have refused you than for Sodom and Gomorrah, the cities upon which God rained down fire. "You are sent forth like sheep among wolves; so be wise like serpents, yet harmless like doves. But you must watch against evil men, for they will seize you and hand you over to courts to be judged; you will be beaten in their court-rooms; you will be brought before governors and kings, because you are my followers. Now, when they bring you up for trial, do not be anxious about what you shall speak or how you shall say it; for what to speak shall be given you when you need it. For it is not you that speak, but the spirit of your Father in heaven that speaks in you." [Illustration: "Whoever gives to one of these little ones even a cup of cold water because he is my disciple, he will not lose his reward"] Many more words Jesus spoke to his twelve disciples; and at the end of his charge he said this: "Whoever receives you and listens to you, it is the same as though he received me, your teacher; and whoever receives me, receives my Father who sent me. He that receives a prophet because he is a prophet shall receive a prophet's reward. He who receives a good man because he is a good man shall receive a good man's reward. And whoever gives to one of these little ones even a cup of cold water because he is a disciple of mine, I tell you truly, he will not lose his reward." After giving his commands to the twelve disciples, Jesus sent them out to preach, while he himself went to other places telling the people the good news of the Kingdom of God. [Illustration: The great mosque at Damascus] A Dance; and How It Was Paid For CHAPTER 40 DURING NEARLY all the year of Jesus' teaching and preaching in Galilee, John the Baptist was in Herod's prison at a lonely place called Machærus, on the east of the river Jordan, near the Dead Sea. You remember that John was put into prison because King Herod's queen, Herodias, became angry against him, when John said to Herod that it was not right for him to take away his brother's wife and have her as his own. Herodias hated John and tried many times to have him killed, but Herod held John in high respect and would not suffer him to be slain. But at last the chance came for Herodias to carry out her purpose. On King Herod's birthday, he held at Machærus, which was not only a prison but a palace, a great feast to his lords, the captains of his army, and the chief men of his kingdom. At this feast the daughter of Herodias, a young girl, came in and danced before the company. Herod and the guests with him were so delighted with the girl's dancing that the king made her a very foolish promise. He said to her: "You may ask for anything that you please, and I will give it to you." He went further and even swore with an oath to her, "I will give you whatever you choose, even to half of my kingdom." The girl went to her mother and said to her, "What shall I ask?" And Herodias hissed out the words, "You ask for the head of John the Baptist." The girl went in haste to the king, and said, "I want you to give me here on a platter the head of John the Baptist." The king was greatly displeased and very angry. He knew that his wife Herodias had led the girl to make this choice, and he would have liked to break his promise. But because he had given his word and was ashamed to call it back before all the nobles at his feast, he gave orders, very unwillingly, to his guards to have her will carried out. They went into the prison, and with a sharp sword cut off the head of John the Baptist, the best and noblest man in all his kingdom. The head was laid on a platter and given to the young girl, who carried it to her mother. So the man whom Jesus called "a prophet and more than a prophet" was slain to satisfy the whim of a dancing girl and her wicked mother! [Illustration: The daughter of Herodias dancing before Herod] The few followers who had still clung to John the Baptist, and visited him in his prison, took up his headless body and buried it. Then they went to Jesus and told him all the sad story of John's death. But Herod was not yet done with John the Baptist. Soon he began to hear wonderful stories of the new prophet, Jesus the Nazarene, who had risen up in John's place. He heard that amazing powers were shown by Jesus, that the sick were cured, the lepers were made clean, the blind were made to see, and, most wonderful of all, the dead were raised to life. People were saying to each other, "Who is this great Prophet that is working all these wonders?" Some said, "This is the old prophet Elijah, who has come to earth again." Others said, "If he is not Elijah, it may be Jeremiah or some other prophet of the old times." But Herod was filled with a terrible fear, for his conscience troubled him on account of his wicked deeds. He said: "I know who this is. It is John the Baptist, whose head I had cut off. He has come to life again. It is on his account that all these wonderful things are taking place!" Thus the bloody head of John the Baptist, like a terrible ghost, rose before the sight of Herod the king! [Illustration: After he had blessed the food and broken it, Jesus gave a portion to each of his disciples, who went among the people and fed them. As the loaves and fishes were broken they grew in their hands until every one had enough to eat.] The Boy with His Five Loaves CHAPTER 41 THE NEWS that King Herod had slain the holy prophet John the Baptist sent a thrill of horror to all who heard it. It came to the twelve disciples, who were just completing their work of preaching in the villages of Galilee. They feared that Herod might seize them and put them in prison; but they were more alarmed for their Master. Having slain John who had made Jesus known to the people, they feared that Herod might now try to kill Jesus himself. They all hastened to Capernaum, where they found Jesus, and gave him the report of the places which they had visited, the work which they had done in healing and helping people and the message which they had given everywhere about the Kingdom of God. The disciples found the crowds around Jesus greater than ever before; for not only had the preaching of these disciples aroused an interest in Jesus and led many to leave their homes and seek him, but the Passover, the greatest of all Jewish feasts, was to be held soon, and the city of Capernaum was thronged with people who were on their way to Jerusalem; for as you know, this feast was held only in that city, and from every part of the land people went up to Jerusalem to attend it. So many were the people coming and going and those who were looking for Jesus and seeking his power to cure their diseases, that Jesus and his disciples could scarcely find a chance to eat. The crowds were constantly pressing upon them. He said to his disciples: "Come, let us take the boat and go across the lake to some quiet place, away from the crowds, and there rest for a time." They went into the boat and started to row over the lake. But the people saw them going and many tried to follow them. Those who had boats sailed in them after the course in which they saw the boat with Jesus and his disciples. And the others, a great multitude, walked and ran around the head of the lake, waded across the river Jordan where it enters the Sea of Galilee, still keeping Jesus' boat in sight, and were at the beach to meet Jesus when he landed near the town of Bethsaida, which was on the northeastern shore. Here Jesus was safe, for Bethsaida was outside the rule of King Herod and in the land governed by Herod's brother Philip. When Jesus stepped out of his boat on the shore near Bethsaida, there he found a great throng of people, more than five thousand men, besides some women and children. When Jesus saw how eager they were and how glad to meet him, his heart of love and pity went out toward them. He cured some sick people that they had brought and he spoke to them about the kingdom of God. The day began to draw to its close and the sun was almost sinking below the hills of Galilee, when the disciples said to Jesus: "It is getting late and will soon be night. These crowds of people came so suddenly that they have brought with them nothing to eat. Send them away, so that they may go to the city of Bethsaida and the villages around and buy food and find places to stay through the night. We are here, you see, in a desert place, where there is neither food nor lodging for them." But Jesus said to his disciples, "There is no need for them to go away; you give them something to eat." They said to him, "Shall we go into the town and buy thirty dollars' worth of bread, so that each one of them may have a little?" Jesus turned to Philip, one of his disciples, and asked him, "Philip, where shall we find bread that all these people may eat?" Jesus said this to try Philip's faith, for he himself knew already what he would do. Philip looked over the crowd gathered upon the level ground, and he answered, "Thirty dollars' worth of bread would not be enough to give to each one even a little piece." Jesus said to his disciples, "How many loaves have you? Go and see." Just then another of the disciples, Andrew, the brother of Simon Peter, came up to Jesus and said, "There is a boy here who has five loaves of barley bread and two little fishes; but what use would they be among so many people?" Jesus said, "Bring them to me." So they led to Jesus this boy with his lunch basket, in which his mother had placed five large flat biscuits of barley and two small salted fishes. Jesus said to his disciples, "Go out among the people and tell them to arrange themselves into companies, with fifty or a hundred in each company, and to sit down upon the grass." The disciples did as Jesus ordered, and soon all the crowd was divided up into groups of fifty or a hundred people, all seated on the ground. On the green grass, arranged in rows and squares with their clothes of different colors, they looked like beds of flowers. Then, in the sight of all the people, Jesus took the five loaves and the two fishes. He waved his hand for silence, and while all were still, looked up to heaven, gave thanks to God for his gift of food, and blessed it. He broke the loaves which were like large flat crackers or biscuit, and gave to each of his disciples a piece and also a piece of dried fish. The disciples went among the people breaking off pieces of the loaves and fishes and handing them out. As they were broken, the loaves and fishes grew in their hands, until every one in the company had enough to eat. Then Jesus said, "Go and gather up the pieces of food that are left, so that nothing may be wasted." Each of the twelve disciples carried a basket among the people, and took from them all that was left. When they came back to Jesus, all the twelve baskets were filled with the pieces left over of the loaves and fishes. There had been in the beginning only five loaves and two fishes. Of these, five thousand men, besides women and children, had eaten as much as they wanted. And now came back twelve baskets full of bits left over--much more at the end after all had eaten than at the beginning. When the people saw that here was one who could give them food, all that they wanted, they said to each other, "This is the man that we want for our king! He can give us bread to eat without our working for it. Let us break away from the rule of the Romans and make Jesus our king!" Jesus knew their thoughts and what they were saying to each other, for he knew all things. He knew, too, that he was a king, but not such a king as they wished. His kingdom was to be in the hearts of those who loved him, not a kingdom won by armies and by swords. Jesus found that his disciples were pleased to find the people so eager at once to crown Jesus as their King, for that would mean high rank and offices for themselves. Jesus, therefore, began by sending away his disciples. He compelled them, much against their will, to get into the boat, and to row over the lake toward Capernaum. After sending away his disciples, he sent away the multitudes, who were also unwilling to go, for they could not understand why Jesus should refuse to be made king. When all were gone away and quiet was around him and the night had come on, Jesus went to the top of a mountain near by, and spent some hours in prayer to his heavenly Father. He needed prayer, for he saw in this attempt to make him king another effort of Satan to bring Jesus under his power, by giving him a worldly kingdom, instead of a heavenly. [Illustration: A distant view of "The Horns of Hattin," in the hollow of which Christ sat while he preached "The Sermon on the Mount" to the multitude gathered about him] [Illustration: As Jesus drew near, Peter cried out, "Lord, if it is really you, command me to come to you on the water."] How the Sea Became a Floor CHAPTER 42 ON THE night after the multitude was fed with the five loaves, while Jesus was praying alone on the mountain, his disciples were rowing over the lake toward Capernaum. It was very dark; and soon after midnight a terrible storm arose, as storms often come very suddenly upon the Sea of Galilee. From his mountain top, through all the darkness and miles away, Jesus could see them struggling with the waves, and in great danger of losing their lives, for he could see all things. While the disciples were pulling hard with their oars, suddenly they saw someone walking upon the waves and drawing near their boat. They were more alarmed, when they saw this form walking over the waves as though the waters were a solid floor, than they had been at the storm threatening to swallow them up, for they thought that surely this was a spirit from the world of the dead, coming to give warning that death was awaiting them. They cried out in their terror; but soon heard a voice speaking to them above the roaring of the wind and the dashing of the waves; a voice which they knew well. It was the voice of Jesus, saying: "Be of good cheer! it is I; do not be afraid!" Then they knew that it was no spirit or ghost from the grave, but their own Lord and Saviour coming to help them. What a load of fear was lifted from them when they heard that voice! But one of the disciples, one who was always putting himself in the front, thought that if Jesus could walk on the water, he would like to do the same. You would know that this one was Simon Peter, a good man, but very quick in his impulses. He cried out, as Jesus drew near, "Lord, if it is really you, command me to come to you on the water." And the Lord said, "Come." Then Peter leaped overboard from the boat and began to walk on the water toward Jesus. But after a few steps on the sea, he saw how heavy the storm was, and was afraid; and at that moment he began to sink. He shouted out, "Lord, save me!" Jesus reached out his hand and caught him and kept him from sinking, saying to him: "How little you trust me! Why did you doubt my word?" When Jesus, holding Peter's hand, came with him into the boat, the wind stopped, and the sea became calm. They found that they were close to the land. Then all the men in the boat fell down at the feet of Jesus and said, "Truly you are the Son of God!" Soon the daylight came, and they saw that their boat was beside a plain, reaching into the lake, a few miles south of Capernaum, called the land of Gennesaret. They went ashore and drew up their boat on the beach. The people of that place knew Jesus, for many of them had heard him in Capernaum. They were glad to have him come to their land; and sent word through all the plain that Jesus, the great teacher and healer, had landed on their shore. From all the country around they brought on their beds those that were sick, and laid them before Jesus, begging him to cure them. Many came near his side, and asked him if they might only touch the border of the mantle which he wore; and all who touched it were made perfectly well, so strong was their faith in Jesus. The Bread of Life CHAPTER 43 ON THE morning after the day when Jesus had fed the five thousand people with the five loaves, the crowd came together once more, hoping again to see Jesus; and some of them expecting to have the miracle or wonder-work repeated. On the evening before, they had seen the twelve disciples go out upon the lake in their boat, and had noticed that Jesus did not sail with them. They thought that Jesus must still be there, and looked all around for him, not knowing that in the night he had walked upon the sea to help his disciples in the storm. Failing to find Jesus, they thought that he must have gone back to his home in Capernaum. They found some other boats upon the shore, and in these they crossed the lake to Capernaum. They found Jesus at the church in Capernaum, and said to him, "Rabbi, when did you come here?" "I tell you the truth," answered Jesus, "it is not on account of the signs of power which you saw that you are looking for me, but because you ate of the bread which I gave you, and had your fill. You should work, not for the food which does not last, but for that which endures to everlasting life; that bread the Son of Man will give you, for upon him the Father has set his seal of power." Jesus wished them to understand that the truth which he could give them was more to the soul than food was to the body, for it would give the life of God, which never passes away. "In what way," they asked him, "can we do the work that God would have us do?" "The work that God would have you do," answered Jesus, "is to believe in him whom God has sent to you as his message-bearer." "Well, then," they said to Jesus, "show us the sign that will prove that you have come from God, then we will believe in you. What is the work that you are doing? Our fathers under Moses in the desert ate the manna that Moses gave them. You remember that it is written, 'He gave them bread from heaven to eat.'" You see, the people wanted Jesus to show his power again by repeating the miracle with the loaves, and giving them more bread in the same way. "In truth I tell you," replied Jesus, "it was not Moses who gave your fathers the bread from heaven; it was my Father, the Lord God. And my Father does give you now the real bread from heaven. For God's bread is that which comes down from heaven and gives life to the world." "Master," they said, "give us that bread always!" "I am the life-giving bread," answered Jesus. "He who comes to me shall never be hungry, and he who believes in me shall never be thirsty. But, as I told you, you have seen me, and yet you do not believe in me. All those whom the Father gives me will come to me; and no one who comes to me will I ever turn away. For I have come down from heaven not to carry out my own will, but the will of Him who sent me; and his will is this--that I should not lose even one of all those whom He has given me, but shall raise them up to life at the last great day. For it is the will of my Father that every one who sees the Son, and believes in him, should have everlasting life; and I myself will raise him up at the last day." The Jews who heard Jesus began to find fault with him for saying, "I am the bread which came down from heaven." "Is not this Jesus, the son of Joseph? We know his father and mother. How can he say, 'I came down from heaven?'" They could not understand his words, and they were angry with him because he would not again work the miracle of giving them bread. Also they now found that Jesus was not willing to be a king such as they wanted, one that would sit on a throne and live in a palace; would raise an army to drive away the Romans and make the Jews a ruling people upon the earth. It was, as we have seen, the time of the Passover, and one reason for the great crowds around Jesus was that all were expecting him to lead the people to Jerusalem and take his place as the king of Israel. But this year Jesus did not go, as he usually did, to the feast in Jerusalem, for he had other plans for himself and his disciples. When the crowd following Jesus found that he would not be a king according to their desires, that he would not do wonders for them to look upon, and that his words were such as they could not understand, nearly all of them turned against Jesus. They went away, leaving the twelve disciples alone with him. Jesus said to the Twelve, "Do you, too, wish to leave me?" Simon Peter answered for them all, "Lord, to whom shall we go if we leave you? You have the words that will give us everlasting life. And we believe and are certain that you are the Holy One of God." These men did not understand all the words of Jesus, but they had learned to love him and to believe that he was the promised King. They were ready to stay with him until death. "Did I not choose you to be the Twelve?" said Jesus, "and yet, even among you there is one who is doing the devil's work." They did not know of whom he was speaking; but he meant Judas, the son of Simon Iscariot; the one of the twelve disciples who a year afterward was to give up his Master to death. At that time Judas himself did not know this. Jesus, who could read the hearts of men, saw in Judas the signs all unknown to himself that he would do this dreadful deed. [Illustration: A view of the village of Nain, and rising in the background is Mount Tabor] Jesus in a Strange Country CHAPTER 44 WITH HIS sermon on "The Bread of Life," given in the church at Capernaum, Jesus finished his work among the people of Galilee. He had lived in that land for more than a year; he had traveled through every part of it; he had spoken in most of its villages and cities, and had sent out his disciples to preach in many other places. Everybody in Galilee had either heard Jesus or had heard about him. If they did not believe in him and his gospel, it was because they would not. There was another and important work which now lay before Jesus. That was the training of his twelve disciples. These men, the apostles, as they were called later, had been with him for nearly a year. They had listened to his preaching and had heard his sermons many times, over and over again; for in different places Jesus gave the same talks to the people; but those talks and parables the Twelve heard in each place, as Jesus wished those men to hear his words until they knew them by heart and could give them as his message to others who had not heard Jesus himself. One reason why we have in the four gospels, by Matthew, Mark, Luke and John, so many of the teachings and parables of Jesus, is that the disciples heard them so many times, learned them, could tell them to others; and thus at least thirty years after Jesus passed away from earth, his words were remembered and could be written down. But besides the public teachings of Jesus, such as the Sermon on the Mount and the parables, there were other great truths of the gospel that could not be given to the people, for they were not ready for them and could not understand them. We can see how the common people were puzzled by his words about "the bread of life." Jesus saw that it was needful for him to take the twelve disciples apart by themselves, that he might teach them some of the deeper truths of his gospel. In Galilee he could not be alone with these men; for wherever he might go there would always be many sick people coming to be cured and others leading men held in the power of evil spirits begging Jesus to cast them out. Then, too, in every place were the Pharisees and scribes, bringing their questions, asking for miracles, and trying to stir up the people against Jesus. Wherever Jesus was, a crowd was always around him, and he could find no time to teach his disciples some truths needful for them to know. He made up his mind to go away from Galilee to some quiet place where no one would know of his coming. On the northwest of Galilee was a narrow land, on the other side of the Lebanon mountains, beside the great Mediterranean Sea. It was called Phoenicia, from the people who lived there, the Phoenicians; and also called "the land of Tyre and Sidon," from its two leading cities. The people who lived in that country were not Jews, and few of them even spoke the Jewish language. Jesus thought that this would be a quiet place where he could talk alone with his disciples. [Illustration: The woman threw herself at Jesus' feet and cried aloud: "Have mercy on me, O Lord, son of David!"] Jesus and the Twelve quietly left Capernaum, and walked over the mountains to this land of Tyre and Sidon. There they found a house and went into it, intending for a time to live there. Jesus wished nobody to know of his coming; but he could not be hidden. A woman of that country heard of him, and at once went to Jesus, threw herself at his feet, and begged him to come and cast an evil spirit out of her daughter. This woman was not of the Jewish people. She was a foreigner, of a mingled Syrian and Phoenician race, a people called "Canaanites." She cried aloud and kept on crying: "Have mercy on me, O Lord, son of David! My little daughter is terribly troubled with an unclean spirit. Will you not please come and help her?" At first Jesus did not answer her one word. But his disciples said to him, "O Master! send this woman away, for she is making a great noise and disturbing us!" To them she was only a Gentile, a heathen woman, and the Jews, even those who followed Jesus, looked with great contempt on all such people. They did not know that Jesus was sent to save not only the Jews but also the Gentiles. Jesus wished to teach his disciples a lesson, that a Gentile could have the same faith as a Jew. He said to the woman: "I was not sent to your people, but only to the lost sheep of the house of Israel." But the woman kept on following him. She knelt down before Jesus, and said, "Master, help me!" He said to her, "Let the children be satisfied first of all; it is not fair to take the children's bread and throw it to the dogs." "That is true, Lord," said the woman; "yet the little dogs under the table do pick up some of the children's crumbs." Then Jesus said to her, "O woman, your faith is great. Your prayer is granted as you wish. The evil spirit is gone away from your daughter." The woman believed the word of Jesus. She hastened to her home and found her daughter well and resting upon her bed. In the Land of the Ten Cities Chapter 45 JESUS SOON found that if he wished to be alone with his disciples, he must leave the land of Tyre and Sidon; for after he had cured the woman's child of her evil spirit, the people were coming to him for other mighty works. He made up his mind to go farther away, and taking his disciples, he went to Sidon, north of Tyre, and then not through Galilee, but around it, to the river Jordan, north of the Sea of Galilee. He crossed the Jordan, and on the eastern side of the Sea of Galilee came to a country called Decapolis, or "the land of the Ten Cities," from ten large places in that region. While they were on this journey, few people saw them, and as they walked together he talked to his disciples and taught them many things. The place to which Jesus came was not far from the town where some months before he had cast out from a poor man a whole army of evil spirits and had sent them into the drove of hogs. At that time, you remember, the people had come to Jesus and had begged him to go away from them, for they had seen his power, but knew nothing of his goodness. But after that miracle, the man who had been cured went all through this land of the Ten Cities, telling the people everywhere of the good work Jesus had done to him and how much they had lost in sending him away. On this second visit of Jesus to this land, the people were ready and eager for his coming. They gathered around Jesus with great joy, and came from near and from far to see him. He went up into a mountain and sat down with his disciples, hoping to be alone. But the people came to him in great crowds, bringing with them those that were lame, and ill with different diseases. They laid these suffering people at his feet, and asked him to cure them. He made them all well. They all wondered, as they saw the dumb talking, the cripples made sound, the lame walking about and the blind seeing; and they all praised the God of Israel. [Illustration: View of Tyre] At this time they led to Jesus a man who was very deaf, and who stammered so that people could scarcely understand his words. They asked Jesus to place his hand on this man and cure him. But Jesus would not do this in public, with a crowd of people looking on. He led him away out of the throng to a place where they could be by themselves. He put his fingers into the man's ears, and then, moistening one finger upon his own tongue, with it touched the man's tongue. Looking up to heaven with a sigh, he said, "Be opened." The man's ears and his tongue were at once set free; he could hear and could speak plainly. Jesus forbade the man and his friends to tell anyone about the cure; but contrary to his command they made it known everywhere. All who saw this man were astonished; and they said of Jesus, "He has done everything well! He makes even the deaf to hear and the dumb to speak!" The crowd clung to Jesus and followed him for three days. By that time whatever food the people had brought with them had been eaten and yet they stayed with Jesus, never thinking of their needs. Jesus called his disciples together and said to them: "My heart is touched on account of all these people; for they have now been with me three days and they have nothing to eat. Some of them have come from distant places, and I cannot bear to send them away hungry for fear that they may break down by the way." "Where can we," the disciples asked him, "in a lonely place like this, with no towns near, find bread for such a crowd as this?" "How many loaves have you?" asked Jesus. "We have in all seven loaves," they answered, "and with them a few small fishes." Jesus told all the crowds to sit down upon the ground; and when they had done so, he held up the loaves and the fishes, and gave thanks to his heavenly Father for them. Then he broke the loaves into pieces, also the dried fish, and gave them to the disciples. The disciples distributed them among the people; and everyone had all that he wanted to eat. After the meal, the disciples went around with large baskets, and picked up of the food left over seven baskets full. At this time the people who were fed by Jesus were four thousand men, besides women and children. When all were satisfied, Jesus told them to go back to their homes; then with his disciples, he went into the boat and sailed across the Sea of Galilee. [Illustration: Sidon] Again on the Sea of Galilee CHAPTER 46 FROM THE land of the Ten Cities, Jesus and his disciples sailed straight across the Sea of Galilee, and on its southwestern shore they came to a city called Magadan or Magdala. One of the women who went with Jesus on his journeys in Galilee, Mary Magdalene, that is, Mary of Magdala, was from this city. Jesus came to this place for rest and for quiet talking with his disciples; but as soon as he landed he was met by some Pharisees and others who did not believe in him. They said to him: "Teacher, show us some sign from heaven that you are a prophet or one whom God has sent." They wished Jesus to do some miracle or wonderful work, not that they might believe in him, but only that they might see what he could do. Everywhere the Pharisees, who looked upon themselves as leaders, were opposed to Jesus and stirred up the ignorant people against him. We have already seen that Jesus never gave any cures or wonderful works merely to be looked upon. He would help those who were in need or in trouble; but he would not merely satisfy an idle desire to see a miracle. He answered these Pharisees as he had answered others: "I will give you a sign from heaven. In the evening, at sunset you say, 'It will be fine weather, for the sky is as red as fire.' But in the morning, if the sky is red, you say, 'It will be a stormy day, for the sky is red as fire, and threatening.' You learn to read the signs in the sky, yet you do not know how to read the signs of the times. If you would look, you might see whether I come from God or not. It is a wicked and a disobedient people who continually ask for signs. No sign shall be given to this people, except the sign of the prophet Jonah." He did not even tell them how Jonah was to be a sign or token to them. Perhaps a few months later, when these people heard that Jesus had been slain and buried; then after three days had risen again to life, just as Jonah had come forth alive after being buried for three days in the great fish, they would then understand how Jonah had been as a sign of Jesus. Jesus saw at once that this was no place to find quiet and a chance to teach his disciples, so he went into the boat again, with his disciples, and sailed away up the lake. They left in such haste that the disciples did not think, while they were ashore, to buy some bread, and they had with them in the boat only one loaf for Jesus and twelve men. While they were rowing over the sea, Jesus said to them: "Take care and be on your guard against the leaven of the Pharisees and the leaven of Herod." They thought that he was speaking to them about their having failed to bring more bread, and they began talking among themselves. Jesus noticed this, and he said: "Why are you talking to one another about your being short of bread? How little trust you have in me! Do you not remember the five loaves with which I fed the five thousand, and the twelve baskets full of pieces that you picked up afterward? Have you forgotten about the seven loaves among the four thousand, and the seven baskets full that you picked up? How is it that you do not see that I was not speaking to you about bread? No, be on your guard against the leaven of the Pharisees and the leaven of Herod." In warning his disciples against the leaven of the Pharisees, Jesus meant their pride and pretense of religion and exactness in obeying rules, while failing to serve God with the heart. By the leaven of Herod, he meant the spirit of living for the world, of guilty pleasure, without a thought of doing God's will. They came to Bethsaida; and as soon as the people saw Jesus they brought to him a blind man and begged him to touch him, hoping to see Jesus give him his sight. But Jesus would not let them look on the curing of the man. He took him away from the crowd, and outside the town, to a lonely place. There, after spitting upon the man's eyes, he laid his hands upon him, and asked him: "Can you see anything?" The man looked up, and said, "Yes, I can see a little, but not very clearly. I see men moving about, but they look like trees." Then Jesus placed his hands on the man's eyes. He looked around, and now could see everything distinctly. Jesus said to him, "Now go directly to your home; and do not go into the town, where men will see you and ask how you received your sight." Jesus and his disciples did not stop in Bethsaida; for he felt that he must find some quiet, lonely place, where he could teach his disciples the great truths of which they knew nothing; truths, too, which it would be hard for them to believe and to understand. So from Bethsaida he went on, following a road beside the river Jordan to the foot of Mount Hermon, far in the north. The Great Confession CHAPTER 47 FROM BETHSAIDA by the Sea of Galilee Jesus led his twelve disciples northward, to the very end of the land of Israel, at the foot of Mount Hermon. Here, at one of the great springs from which the river Jordan flows, was the city of Cæsarea-Philippi, or "Philip's Cæsarea," so called because it was in the land ruled by Herod Philip, the brother of Herod Antipas, who was ruling in Galilee. Jesus did not go into the city of Cæsarea-Philippi, but into one of the villages near the city, for he wished not to have a crowd around him, but to be alone with his disciples. The time had now come for the disciples to know more about Jesus, who he was, the work that he was to do and what he was soon to suffer. His plan of teaching them was not to tell them, but to lead them on by questions so that they might learn the truth by finding it out themselves. One day, after he had been alone praying to his Father, he asked his disciples: "Tell me, who do the people say that I am?" "Some say that you are John the Baptist, raised up from the dead," answered the disciples; "others say that you are Elijah the prophet come to earth again; and still others say that you are the prophet Jeremiah or some other one of the old prophets." "But you, who do you say that I am?" asked Jesus. At once Simon Peter answered, for he was the one among the Twelve always ready to speak: [Illustration: "But you, who do you say that I am?" asked Jesus of Simon Peter.] "You are the Messiah, the Christ, the Son of the living God!" You know that the Jews everywhere were looking for a king to rule over them, set them free from the Roman power and make of them a great conquering nation. This king, in their own language, they called "the Messiah," which means, "the Anointed One," for in Israel a new king was chosen by having oil poured upon his head. The word "Messiah," in the Greek language, which was spoken everywhere, was "Christ," also meaning "The Anointed One." Peter, in speaking those words, "Thou art the Messiah, the Christ," meant to say that Jesus was the King of Israel, for whom all the people were looking. "You are a blessed man, Simon, son of Jonah," answered Jesus, "for no human being has made this known to you, but my Father who is in heaven. Yes, and I say to you, 'Your name is Peter--a Rock--and on this rock I will build my church; and all the powers of the underworld shall not succeed against it.' Also, Simon Peter, I will give to you the keys of the kingdom of heaven. Whatever you forbid on earth shall be forbidden in heaven, and whatever you allow on earth shall be allowed in heaven." Because Simon Peter was the first to make this confession of Jesus as the Messiah-Christ, the King, he was given special honor among the followers of the Lord. You remember that more than a year before, when Jesus met Simon for the first time, beside the river Jordan, he gave him the new name Peter, which means "a rock." Then Jesus told the disciples that they were not to speak to any of the people of what Peter had said, that Jesus was the Christ, the King, for the time had not yet come to make it public. But now, since they knew that he was to be a king and rule over Israel, he began for the first time to speak of certain other things, which they found very hard to understand. "Very soon," said Jesus, "we are going up to Jerusalem; and there I must endure great suffering from the rulers of the people, the chief priests and teachers of the law. I must be slain and buried; and on the third day I shall rise again." The disciples could not understand how if he was to reign as King of Israel, it could be possible for him to suffer these things and to die. Peter took Jesus aside, where he could speak with him alone. "Master," said Peter, "you must not speak of such things. God will not allow these things to come to you. You are not going to be put to death in Jerusalem; you are going to Jerusalem to sit on the throne of David, and reign over the land!" But Jesus turned his back upon Peter, and looking upon his disciples, said: "Get away from me, Satan! You would turn me away from doing God's will! For you look at things, not as God looks at them, but as man does!" Jesus saw that in Peter's mind was the view of the kingdom that Satan had shown him in his great temptation on the mountain, not as a kingdom of God, but as a kingdom such as men were expecting, a kingdom like those of the world. Then Jesus called to his disciples, and to the people that were around them, and said: "If any man has the will to come after me and be my disciple, let him give up his own will, and take up his cross and follow me. For whoever wants to save his life will lose it, and whoever for my sake loses his life shall find it. What good will it do to a man to gain the whole world if in gaining he loses his own life? What will a man give that is worth as much as his life? For the Son of Man is coming in the glory of his Father with his angels; and then he will give to every man what his acts deserve. And I tell you truly, there are some standing here who will not die until they have seen the Son of Man coming to reign in his kingdom." [Illustration: Nazareth] [Illustration: The three disciples beheld with wonder the change which had come over their Lord. His face shone with a glory so great they could not bear to look upon him, and beside him they saw standing the prophets, Moses and Elijah.] The Vision on the Mountain CHAPTER 48 AT ONE time while Jesus was staying in one of the villages at the foot of Mount Hermon, in the far north of the land, he took with him three of his disciples, Peter, James and John, and went up the mountain to pray. It was in the afternoon, when they walked up the mountain, and when night came on he was still in prayer. The three disciples were tired from climbing the mountain and fell asleep for a little time. When they awoke they were filled with wonder at the change which had come over their Lord. Although it was night, they saw the face of Jesus shining as brightly as the sun at noon, with a dazzling glory so great that they could not bear to look upon him. His clothes too were shining white and glittering. Not only his face, but his hands, his feet and even his body beamed through his garments with brightness. They saw standing beside Jesus in his splendor two men who had lived long before on the earth and were now living no more. How the disciples knew them we are not told. Perhaps the knowledge flashed upon their minds, given them by God; or it may have been that as they listened to these two men, they learned from their words who they were. One was the great prophet Moses, who led the Israelites out of Egypt and died on Mount Nebo; the other was the prophet Elijah, who spoke bold words to the wicked King Ahab and was taken up to heaven in a chariot of fire. Both these men had passed from earth many hundred years before. As the three disciples looked and listened, they could hear what these two prophets of the old times were saying. They were talking to Jesus about his death which was to take place at Jerusalem. So these two great men of the past knew already what Jesus had tried to tell his disciples, and what they were so slow to believe, that he was soon to die! Peter was always eager to speak, and he spoke now, though he scarcely understood what his own words meant. [Illustration: Mount Hermon--the Mount of the Transfiguration] "Master," he said, "this is a good place for us to stay in. If you are willing, I will make here three tents; one for you, one for Moses and one for Elijah." He thought that the two prophets, Moses and Elijah, had come back to stay upon the earth; and that if tents were made for them, they would live upon that mountain. While Peter was speaking a bright and glorious cloud came over them all, over Jesus, over the two prophets and over the three disciples, who were filled with fear as they found the cloud around them. And a greater fear came upon them as they heard the voice of God out of the cloud saying: "This is my Son, the Beloved, in whom I delight. Listen to him!" And as they heard these words, knowing that God had spoken them, they fell down upon their faces in great terror. Jesus came to them and touched them gently, saying: "Rise up, and do not be afraid." Then they looked up. The bright cloud had passed away, the two prophets were no longer to be seen, and Jesus was standing alone over them, some of the glory still remaining upon his face. As they were walking down the mountain, Jesus said to his three disciples, Peter, James and John: "Tell no one what you have seen this night, until the Son of Man has risen from the dead." So, much as they wished to tell their fellow-disciples of this wonderful sight, they obeyed their Master, and said not a word about it while Jesus was still with them. They said to Jesus, "How is it that the teachers of the law say that the prophet Elijah must come before the Messiah-King appears?" "Elijah does come," answered Jesus, "and he prepares the way for the coming of the King. And I tell you that Elijah has already come, but the people have not known him. They would not listen to him, and have done to him as they pleased. And just as it was with him, so will it be with the Son of Man. He shall also suffer at the hands of men." Then the disciples understood that Jesus was speaking to them of John the Baptist, who like Elijah had lived in the wilderness, wore a mantle of skin, and fed on desert-food, and who, like Elijah, gave God's message to the people, preparing the way for the coming of Jesus Christ. [Illustration: As Jesus and his three disciples came down to the village at the foot of Mt. Hermon, a man eagerly besought him to cast an evil spirit out of his son.] The Boy with the Dumb Spirit CHAPTER 49 WHEN JESUS and his three disciples came to the village at the foot of the mountain, they found a great crowd gathered around the other nine disciples, and some of the Jewish teachers of the law, the scribes, talking with them very earnestly. Some of the glory of the last night still lingered upon the face of Jesus, and as the people looked upon him, they were filled with wonder and bowed down before him. Out of the crowd came a man running, whose face showed that he was in great trouble. He knelt before Jesus and cried out: "Teacher, I brought to you my son, in whom is an evil spirit, which has made him dumb. I pray you have mercy on him, and cure him, for he is my only child. Often the spirit seizes him and dashes him down. It makes him foam at the mouth and grind his teeth. He is wasting away, and I fear will die unless help comes to him. I brought him here, hoping to find you. But you were away, and I spoke to these men, your disciples. They tried to cast out the evil spirit, but they could not. Now that you have come, will you not help me?" "O you people who will not believe, and who turn away from God!" said Jesus, "how long must I be with you? How long must I have patience with you? Bring your boy to me." They brought the boy to Jesus; but no sooner did the boy see him, than the wicked spirit threw him into a spasm. He fell on the ground, his body twitching and tearing; and rolled about, foaming at the mouth. "How long has he been like this?" asked Jesus of the boy's father. "Ever since he was a little child," the man answered, "and it has many times thrown him into fire and into water, almost killing him. If you can do anything, do take pity on us both and help us." "'If I can!'" said Jesus, taking up the man's word. "Do you not know that all things can be done for the one who believes?" "I do believe," cried out the father of the boy. "O Master, help my lack of faith!" Jesus saw that a crowd was rapidly gathering around, and he spoke to the evil spirit. "Deaf and dumb spirit," he said, "I command you at once come out of this boy, and never again trouble him!" With a loud cry, the evil spirit threw the boy into a violent spasm of pain and then left him. The boy lay on the ground, looking like a corpse. In fact, many who were standing near, as they saw him, said, "The boy is surely dead!" But Jesus took his hand, lifting him from the ground. The boy stood up and walked away well, free from the evil spirit and able to speak. When Jesus was alone with his disciples in the house, they asked him, "Why was it that we could not drive out the evil spirit from the boy?" "It was because you have so little faith. I tell you that if your faith were only the size of a grain of mustard-seed, you could say to this mountain, 'Move from this place to that,' and move it would; for nothing would be impossible to you." But he added, "An evil spirit of this kind is harder to drive away than most. Only by special prayer can it be cast out." Soon after this Jesus left that place at the foot of the mountain, and led his disciples toward the south. They saw that he was now going in the direction of Jerusalem, and were quite sure that there he would set up his throne and kingdom. But Jesus knew what they were thinking of, and he said to them, "Listen carefully to my words. The Son of Man is to be given into the hands of his enemies. They shall kill him, and three days after he has been killed, he shall rise again to life." But the disciples could not understand these words, for they would not believe that he was to die, and they were afraid to ask him what these sayings meant. [Illustration: The Jordan near Dan] The Last Visit to Capernaum CHAPTER 50 WHILE JESUS was passing through Galilee for the last time, he wished not to do in that land any more wonderful works or to give any further teachings in public. He desired not to have crowds around him, but to be alone with his disciples, for there were many things to be told them before he should be taken away from them. As they were on their way to Capernaum, which had been his home during the year before, he saw that his disciples as they walked were having some dispute or quarrel. He well knew what they were saying to each other, for he knew all things; but at the time he said nothing. He came to Capernaum, for the first time followed by no crowd, but with his twelve disciples only. In the evening, as they sat together in the house, he said to them: "What was it that you were talking about today as we were walking on the road?" The disciples looked at each other, a little ashamed, and at first did not speak. Finally, one of them said: "We were asking each other who of us should hold the first place in your kingdom." Although Jesus had more than once told these men that he must suffer and die, they did not believe it. They saw that he was on his way toward Jerusalem, and like all the people who believed in him, they thought that when he came to that city, he would take his kingdom and rule; and each of his disciples wanted a place for himself next the throne. "The first place!" answered Jesus. "If any of you has the will to be first in the kingdom of heaven, that one shall be the last of all and shall serve all the others!" [Illustration: Whoever will become like this little child, shall be the greatest in the Kingdom of Heaven] A little child was playing near him, for the children were never afraid of Jesus and loved to be with him. Jesus reached out his hand, took the child in his arms and held it close to him. Then he said to his disciples: "I tell you, unless you change your spirit and become like little children, you will not enter into the kingdom of heaven at all! Whoever of you will become humble and gentle, like this little child, not seeking great things for himself, that is the one who shall be the greatest in the kingdom of heaven. And any one who helps even a little child to be one of my followers is helping me. But if anyone puts a snare or stumbling-block in the way of one of these little ones, to keep him from following me, it would be better for that man to have a great millstone hung on his neck, and to be thrown into the deep sea! Woe to the world on account of snares and hindrances, keeping men away from God and from salvation! There must be these snares and hindrances, that cannot be helped; but woe to the man who puts them in the way! "If your hand or your foot becomes a snare to you, keeping you from God, you must cut it off and throw it away. It is better for you to enter into life a cripple, and with only one hand, than with two hands or two feet, to go away to everlasting death. And if your eye would lead you to forsake God, pluck it out and throw it away. It is better for you to be saved having only one eye, than to be lost having two eyes. "I tell you, never despise or think lightly of one of these little ones; for I say to you, their angels always see the face of my Father who is in heaven." Then John, one of the disciples, said: "Teacher, we saw a man who is not one of your followers using your name to cast out evil spirits; and we told him not to use your name, since he is not with us." "Do not forbid him," said Jesus, "there is no man who will do a mighty work in my name, and be able also to speak against me. Whoever is not against us is for us. Why, if any one will give you even a cup of water to drink, because you belong to Christ, I tell you truly, that man shall not fail of having a reward." At that time Jesus told his disciples how to treat those who had done them any wrong. He said: "If your brother does wrong, go to him and speak to him about it when you are alone with him. If he listens to you, then you have won your brother. But if he will not listen, take with you one or two others, and talk with him again, that there may be at least two witnesses in every case. If he will not listen to these men, speak to the church; and if he refuses to listen to the church, then have nothing more to do with him, but treat him as a stranger, as the people treat those who collect the taxes for the Romans. "I tell you, my disciples, that whatever you forbid on earth shall be forbidden by those in heaven; and whatever you allow on earth shall be allowed by those in heaven. I tell you another thing: if two of you shall agree on earth upon anything that they ask in prayer, it shall be done for them by my Father who is in heaven. For where two or three have come together in my name, I am there among them." Then Peter came up to Jesus and asked him a question. It was this: "Master, how often should I forgive my brother when he has done me wrong? Shall it be as many as seven times?" "Seven times?" said Jesus. "No, I say, seventy times seven! For the kingdom of heaven may be compared to a king who wished to have his servants pay him the debts which they owed him. When he had begun to make up their accounts, one servant was brought before him who owed him more than a million dollars. He could not pay his debt, and his master ordered that he should be sold, and his wife and children with him, and everything that he had, toward the payment of his debt. The servant fell down upon his face before him, and said, 'Only have patience with me, my lord, and I will pay it all.' His master knew that he could never pay so great a debt; he felt a pity for him, and let him go free, forgiving him all that he owed. "But as he was going away, that servant met one of his fellow-servants who owed him a small debt, only about fifteen dollars. He took him by the throat, and said, 'Pay me what you owe me!' The man threw himself on the ground and begged for mercy, crying out, 'Have patience with me, wait a little while, and I will pay all that I owe you.' But he refused to have mercy; he took him into the court and had him put into prison until he should pay the debt. "When the other servants saw him sending this man to prison, they felt troubled and told the king what he had done. At this the king became very angry. He sent for that cruel servant and said to him, 'You wicked servant! When you asked me for mercy, I gave to you all your great debt and let you go free! Should not you, also, have shown the same kindness to your fellow-servant that I showed to you?' Then his master, being very angry, handed him over to the jailor, to be kept in a dungeon until he should pay the whole of his debt. So also will my Father in heaven do to you, unless you forgive your brother with all your heart." While Jesus was at this time in Capernaum, the officer who collected from the Jews the tax for the Temple came to Peter and said: "Does not your Master pay the Temple tax?" "Yes," answered Peter. But when he went into the house, before he could speak, Jesus said to him, "Tell me, Simon, from whom do the kings of this world take taxes? From their sons, or from foreigners?" "From foreigners," answered Peter. "Then their own people are free from being taxed, are they not? We are the sons of God, and we should be free from the tax for the house of God. However, in order not to displease them, do you go to the sea, throw in a hook and take the first fish that comes up; open its mouth, and you will find in it a piece of silver money. Take that and give it to the tax collectors for you and me." Good-bye to Galilee CHAPTER 51 WHILE JESUS was still in Capernaum, the fall of the year came on, and with it the time drew near for the Jewish Feast of Tents, or Feast of Tabernacles. In the Bible, the word "tabernacles" always means "tents." This feast was called "the Feast of the Tents" because every year the people who went up to Jerusalem to attend it lived for a week in little tents or huts made of green branches; to keep in mind the forty years, long before, when, after coming out of Egypt, the Israelites lived in the desert in tents, moving from place to place. The younger brothers of Jesus, the sons of Joseph and Mary, heard that Jesus was in Capernaum; and they came to see him. At this time these brothers of Jesus did not believe in him as their King and Saviour; although afterward they were among his followers. These men said to Jesus: "Why do you not go to Judea and Jerusalem and let your disciples see there what you can do? No one who wishes to be known stays in a place apart from the people. Since you can do these great works, you should show yourself to the world." "My time," said Jesus, "has not come yet; but your time is always here. The world is not against you, but it is against me, because I speak against its evil deeds. Go yourselves up to the feast; I am not going as yet up to this feast, because my time has not yet come." Jesus did not wish to have as his companions at the feast men who did not believe in him, even though they were his brothers. So, while his brothers went on to Jerusalem, he stayed a little longer in Galilee. Before he left the city of Capernaum he gave one last call and warning to its people and those in the cities near by. He spoke to those who lived in Chorazin, a town only a few miles from Capernaum; and those in Bethsaida, five miles away, at the head of the lake. He said to these cities: [Illustration: Christ's call to the sick and weary: "Come unto me, all ye who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest."] "Woe unto you, Chorazin! and woe to you, Bethsaida! If the mighty works that were done in you had been done in the cities of Tyre and Sidon, long before this time they would have turned from sin to God, weeping in rough garments, with ashes on their heads! I tell you that when God comes to judge the lands, it will be harder for Chorazin and Bethsaida than for Tyre and Sidon. And you, O Capernaum, shall you be lifted up to heaven? No, you will sink down to death. For if the great works that were done in you had been done in Sodom, that city would have lasted until today. But I say to you, it will be easier for Sodom in God's day of judgment than for you, O Capernaum!" At the same time Jesus spoke these words also: "I thank thee, O Father, Lord of heaven and earth, for hiding these things from the wise and the learned, and for making them known to those who are child-like in spirit. Yes, Father, I praise thee that this has been the way that thou hast chosen. "All power has been given to me by the Father; and no one can fully know the Son except the Father; and no one fully knows the Father except the Son, and he to whom the Son will make him known. "Come unto me, all ye who labor and are heavy-laden with your troubles; and I will give you rest. Take upon you the yoke that I bear, and learn from me how to live; for I am gentle and lowly-minded, and you shall find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my load is light." With these words Jesus left Capernaum and Galilee for the last time. [Illustration: But one of the ten men when he found that he was a leper no longer, stopped and praised God with a loud voice, and ran to Jesus' feet, giving him thanks for his cure.] Passing Through Samaria CHAPTER 52 AFTER MOST of those who were going up to Jerusalem for the Feast of Tents had left Capernaum, Jesus began his journey with his disciples. All who saw him going toward Jerusalem, and even his disciples, thought that now he was surely on his way to take his throne and rule the people as king of Israel. Just as they were starting, a man who was one of the teachers of the law came to Jesus and said: "Master, I will follow you wherever you may go." He thought that by following Jesus he might have some high place in his kingdom. But Jesus saw that this man was following him only for gain. He said to him: "You will gain nothing by following me. The foxes have holes, and the wild birds have their nests; but the Son of Man has not a place where he can lay his head." To another man, Jesus said, "Follow me!" The man answered, "First let me go and bury my father." Jesus said to this man, "Let those who are dead bury their dead; but do you go and spread everywhere the news of the kingdom of God." Jesus meant by this that such matters as the burial of the dead could be cared for by others, even though they did not have a knowledge of the truth which gives life; but Jesus wanted this man to go at once and preach his gospel. There was another man who said to Jesus, "I will follow you; but let me first go and say 'good-bye' to my friends at my home." "Whoever looks back," answered Jesus, "after he has put his hand to the plough is of no use for the kingdom of God." For his work Jesus wanted men who were single-hearted, giving up all, that they might follow and serve him. On this journey to Jerusalem Jesus did not take the road down the Jordan valley, the way usually followed. He made up his mind this time to go through Samaria, perhaps because he did not wish to have a crowd of people with him, and few of the Jews went to Jerusalem by way of Samaria. As he drew near a Samaritan village, he sent some of his disciples to find in it a lodging place. But the Samaritan people would not allow Jesus and his disciples to come into their village, because they saw that they were Jews on their way to Jerusalem. The Samaritans and the Jews hated each other and would not show kindness to one another. James and John, two of the disciples, were exceedingly angry at these people, who would shut out their Master. They said to him: "Lord, shall we call down fire from heaven, as the prophet Elijah did, and burn up that wicked village?" But Jesus said to them, "Your spirit is not right. I did not come to destroy the lives of men, but to save them. Let us go to some other village." While he was still on the border of Galilee and Samaria, as he was going into a village, he met ten men who had the terrible disease of leprosy. They stood at a distance, for lepers were not allowed to come near people; and they cried aloud, saying: "Jesus, Master, have mercy on us!" "Go," answered Jesus, "and show yourselves to the priests." In the Temple was a room where a man went who had any disease like leprosy, with a breaking out upon his skin. At this room he was kept for a time; and if it was found that his disease was not leprosy, after certain offerings and washings, he was allowed to go home and be among men. These men started for their Temple; those who were Jews for the Temple in Jerusalem, any that were Samaritans for their Temple on Mount Gerizim, near the city of Shechem. As they went, and by going showed their faith in Jesus, they found all at once that their leprosy was gone and they were entirely well. Nine of these ten men, after they were cured, went on their way toward the Temple. But one of them, when he found that he was a leper no longer, stopped with a loud voice praised God; and ran to Jesus' feet and fell on his face before him, giving him thanks for his cure. This man was a Samaritan. "Were there not ten men cured?" said Jesus. "But where are the nine? Was there only one to turn back and give thanks to God, and that one a stranger?" And Jesus said to this grateful Samaritan, "Rise up, and go your way; your faith has made you well." [Illustration: The priest and the Levite walked past on the other side, but the Samaritan felt a pity for the poor man lying in the road and came down and poured oil on his wounds and bandaged them.] The Scribe's Question; and Mary's Choice CHAPTER 53 WHILE JESUS was on his way to Jerusalem one of the teachers of the law--whom the Jews called "scribes"--came to him with a question. These Jewish scribes were everywhere enemies of Jesus, and were continually asking him questions, not that they might learn, but that in some way they might give him trouble. This scribe said to Jesus, "Teacher, what shall I do that I may have the life everlasting?" "What is said in God's law?" answered Jesus. "What do you read there?" He answered, "You must love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, with all your strength, and with all your mind; and you must love your neighbor as yourself." "That is a right answer," said Jesus; "do that and you shall live." But the scribe, wishing to make an excuse for himself, and thinking to puzzle Jesus, said, "But who is my neighbor?" Then Jesus told to this man the parable or story of "The Good Samaritan." "There was once a man," said Jesus, "who was going down by a lonely road from Jerusalem to Jericho. The robbers who hide among the mountains in that region rushed at this man, stripped him of everything, and beat him near to death; then ran away and left him almost dead on the roadside. It happened that a priest was going down the same road. He saw the man lying there, but instead of coming to help him, walked past him on the other side of the road. Then a Levite, one of those who help the priests in the services of the Temple, came to that place; and he too went by on the other side, carefully keeping away from the suffering man. "But soon after, a Samaritan, one of those people whom all the Jews hate and despise, came down the same road. This man, when he found the poor man lying in the road, got off from the ass on which he was riding and stood over the man. He felt a pity for the sufferer and put bandages on his wounds, after pouring into them a little oil and wine. Then he lifted up the man and carefully placed him on his own ass, and walking by his side, brought him to an inn and cared for him all that night. On the next morning he took out from his purse two pieces of silver, handed them to the inn-keeper and said to him, 'Look after this man until he is well; and if you spend more than this, I will repay it to you when I come this way again.' "Now," asked Jesus, "which one of these three men, the priest, the Levite and the Samaritan, do you think showed himself a true neighbor to the poor fellow who fell among the robbers?" The scribe answered, "The one who showed kindness to him." Jesus said to him, "Then go and do as this man did." He meant to show the scribe that "our neighbor" is the one who most needs our help, whoever he may be. [Illustration: "Martha, Martha," replied the Lord, "you are anxious and troubled about a great many things."] When Jesus drew near to Jerusalem, he did not at once enter the city and find a lodging place within its walls, for he knew well that it was filled with his enemies; and that the priests and rulers would try to seize him and put him to death. He expected after some months to die at Jerusalem, as he had so many times told his disciples--although they could not believe it--but the time for his death had not yet come. For a home while attending the Feast of Tents, he went to a village about two miles from Jerusalem, on the east of the Mount of Olives. This village was called Bethany, and in it was living a family all of whom were strong friends of Jesus: Martha, her sister Mary and their younger brother Lazarus. With this family he stayed while he was visiting Jerusalem. Martha was the older sister and the head of the house. She gave Jesus a hearty welcome and made herself busy in attending to his needs. But Mary, her younger sister, left everything and seated herself at the feet of the Lord, eager to listen to his words. Martha, somewhat worried by her many cares, especially in making ready a dinner for Jesus, was not pleased at her sister's conduct. She came to Jesus and said: "Lord, do you think it right for my sister to leave all the work to me? Tell her to help me." "Martha, Martha," replied the Lord, "you are anxious and trouble yourself about a great many things. Only one thing is really needful. Mary has chosen the best dish, and she will not be dragged away from it." Jesus meant to say that Martha need not prepare a dinner with many dishes, for he needed only a simple meal; and that Mary had chosen well instead of food the words that he was speaking, which were really a feast to her soul. At one time Jesus was praying in a certain place. It may have been on the Mount of Olives, between Bethany and Jerusalem, for Jesus went there often to pray. When his prayer was over, the disciples came to him and said: "Master, John the Baptist taught his disciples how to pray. Will you not also give us a prayer that we may use?" Jesus said to them, "I will give you this prayer. When you pray, say, 'Our Father, who art in heaven; Hallowed be thy name. Thy Kingdom come. Thy will be done in earth, as it is in heaven. Give us day by day our daily bread. And forgive us our debts, as we forgive our debtors. And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil. For thine is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory, for ever and forever. Amen.'" Jesus also gave to his disciples a parable or story about earnestness in prayer. He said: "Suppose that one of you who has a friend should go to his house in the middle of the night, and should knock at his door loud enough to wake him from his sleep, and should say to him, 'Friend, please do get up and let me have three loaves of bread! A friend of mine has suddenly come to my house and I have nothing for him to eat;' and suppose the other should answer him from inside the door, 'Don't bother me; the door is locked and I am in bed with my children. I can't get up and give you anything!' I tell you, though he will not get up and give you anything merely because you are a friend of his, if you keep on knocking long enough, he will at last rise and give you whatever you want, because you persevere in seeking after it. "So, I say to you: ask, and the gift shall be yours; seek, and you shall find; knock, and the door will be opened to you. For every one who asks, receives; he that seeks, finds; and to him that knocks, the door shall be opened. "Is there a father among you, who if his son asks for bread, will give him a stone? If he is asked for a fish, will he give his son a snake? Or, if asked for an egg, will he give him a scorpion? If you then, even not as good as you should be, are willing to give good things to your children, how much more will your Father in heaven give this Holy Spirit to his children that ask him?" [Illustration: This massive ancient wall is known as the Wailing Place. Here the Jews of Jerusalem come to mourn over the splendor of Israel that is no more] Jesus at the Feast of Tents CHAPTER 54 AT THE TIME when Jesus came to Jerusalem, the Feast of Tents was half over. Many had been looking for him, for all through the land he was talked about. At the Feast the people were saying, "Where is he? Has he come up to the Feast?" Some said, "He is a good man." Others said, "No, he cannot be a good man, for he is leading the people away from the law of Moses." But no one spoke freely about him, for fear of the rulers and the people of Jerusalem whose minds had been set against Jesus by the priests and the scribes or teachers of the law. From his home in Bethany at Martha's house, Jesus came quietly into the Temple and began teaching the people who gathered there during the Feast, going out at evening to Bethany. All who heard him wondered at his words, and every day the crowds around him grew. People said to each other, "How did this man get all his knowledge? He has never studied in the college of the scribes." "My teaching," said Jesus in answer, "is not my own; but it comes from Him who sent me. Any one who chooses to do God's will, will know whether I speak in God's name, or whether I am talking in my own name. Did not Moses give you the law? Yet none of you honestly tries to keep the law. If you did try to keep the law, you would not try to kill me!" The crowd replied to Jesus, "You are crazy! Who is trying to kill you?" But Jesus knew that he was speaking the truth, for he knew what was in the minds of the rulers and of many in Jerusalem. He said to the crowd: "I will be with you only a little longer, and then I am going to him who sent me. You will look for me, but you will not find me, and where I am going, you cannot come." "Where is this man going," said the Jews, "that we cannot find him? Is he going among our people in foreign lands, to teach the foreigners? What does he mean by words like these?" Jesus meant that after they should kill him and he should rise from the tomb and live again, he was going back to his home in heaven, a place to which they could never come. [Illustration: "If any man thirst, let him come unto me and drink"] The last and greatest day of the Feast of Tents came. On that day they brought water into the Temple and poured it out, amid great rejoicing; calling to mind how God had given water from the rock to the Israelites in the desert. In the midst of the pouring out of the water, Jesus cried with a very loud voice, so that all heard him: "If any one is thirsty," he said, "let him come to me and drink! He who believes in me, out of him shall flow rivers of living water!" Some of the people, when they heard this, said, "This must be really the Prophet who is to come!" Others said, "This is the Christ, the King of Israel!" But there were those who said, "No, this cannot be Christ the King, for this man comes from Galilee, and the Bible says that Christ is to come from the line of King David and from David's town of Bethlehem." These people knew that Jesus came to them from Galilee, but they did not know that he had been born in Bethlehem and belonged to the royal line of David. They were divided over Jesus: some thought that he was their promised king, while others wanted to seize him as a teacher of falsehood. The rulers sent out officers to make him their prisoner, but somehow no man dared to lay hands upon him. When the officers came back to the chief priests and leading men, they were asked, "Why did you not bring this man with you?" The officers answered, "No man ever spoke as this man speaks!" "What! has this man led you astray, too?" said the rulers. "Have any of the leading men, or the Pharisees, believed in him? As for this crowd who know nothing of the law, they are of no account!" Nicodemus, that one of the rulers who a year before had come by night to talk with Jesus, said to them: "Surely our law does not allow any man to be treated as guilty before hearing what he has to say and finding out what he has done!" "Are you too from Galilee, like all the followers of this man?" they answered him. "Search, and you will find that no prophet ever comes from Galilee." In the evening all the people went to their homes, and Jesus went over the Mount of Olives to his friends at Bethany. [Illustration: View of Bethany] Jesus and the Sinful Woman CHAPTER 55 AFTER THE Feast of Tents Jesus stayed near Jerusalem, making his home in Bethany, for nearly two months, until another feast came, the Feast of the Dedication of the Temple. About two hundred years before that time, the Temple had been held by enemies, who had stopped the services, had set up images in the building and had done many things to make it vile. At last the enemies were driven away; and then the Jews made the Temple clean again, destroyed the images and began once more the regular service. After this, every year they kept the day of the reopening of the Temple as "The Feast of the Dedication." At this feast the Temple was lighted up every night very brightly, and on that account the feast was also called "The Feast of Lights." During the days of his stay, Jesus went often to the Temple and sat down in a room called "The Court of the Women," because on one side of it was a gallery where the women worshipped, looking down on the services at the altar. It was also called "The Treasury" on account of the gift-boxes on its walls, where people dropped in their money for the poor and for the support of the Temple. In this court, which was very large, and open to the sky, without a roof, the Jewish teachers held their classes for the study of the law; and many came to Jesus to listen to his words. [Illustration: Jesus replied to the accusers of the sinful woman: "Let the one among you who has never done wrong throw the first stone at her."] One morning the teaching of Jesus was interrupted by a noise in the court. Some of the scribes and Pharisees, who were enemies of Jesus, planned to get him into trouble with the Roman rulers. They came, dragging in a poor woman who had done a wicked deed; and bringing her forward directly in front of Jesus. "Teacher," they said, "this woman was caught in a wicked act. Now, Moses in the law commands that any person committing that crime shall be stoned to death; but what do you say should be done with her?" Jesus very well knew that they had brought this question to him hoping, whatever he said, to make trouble for him. If he should say, "Let her go free," they would declare that Jesus was a breaker of the law and cared nothing for crimes. If, on the other hand, he said, "Let her be punished," they could say to the Roman rulers, "This man is acting as a judge and claims to be the King of Israel;" and this might cause the Romans to put him to death. So, whatever Jesus might say, they could find some reason to accuse him. But Jesus seemed to pay no attention to their words. He stooped down, and began to write with his finger on the floor. But as they kept on asking him the same question, finally he rose up, looked his enemies full in the face, and said: "Let the one among you who has never done wrong throw the first stone at her." Then he stooped down again and continued writing with his finger. They stood silent for some time and then began quietly to go away, the oldest men first and the younger men later. After a while, Jesus looked up and saw the woman standing alone before him. He rose up and said: "Woman, where are those men? Does no man say that you are guilty?" She answered him, "No man, Lord." Jesus said to her, "Neither do I call you guilty. Go away, and never sin again." Then Jesus went on with his teaching, which had been stopped by the bringing in of the woman by his enemies. He said: "I am the light of the whole world. He who follows me and obeys my words will not walk in darkness, but shall have the light of life." Many other things Jesus said to the people at that time; and some of those who heard him began to believe that he was a teacher come from God. To those who believed, he said: "If you stand faithful to my words, you are truly my followers; and you shall understand the truth, and the truth shall make you free." [Illustration: "I am the light of the whole world. He who follows me and obeys my words will not walk in darkness, but shall have the light of life"] "What do you mean by those words, 'You shall be made free'?" said the people. "We are sprung from Abraham, and have never been slaves. How can we be made free?" "In very truth, I tell you," answered Jesus, "every one who sins is a slave. Now the slave does not stay in the home always, but the son stays, for it is his home, and he has a right to be there. So, if the Son of the heavenly Father sets you free from sin, you will be free indeed." As Jesus went on speaking, the people who listened became very angry. At last he said: "Your great father Abraham longed to see the day when I should come to the earth; and he saw it coming, and it made him glad." "Why," the Jews said, "you are not fifty years old, and do you say that Abraham saw you?" "I tell you truly," answered Jesus, "before Abraham was born, I was living!" At this, they picked up stones to throw at him; but Jesus hid himself from them and left the Temple. [Illustration: The so-called tower of David in Jerusalem] The Blind Man at the Pool of Siloam CHAPTER 56 ON A SABBATH morning, which was not Sunday, but Saturday, the Jewish day of rest and church-going--Jesus and his disciples were on their way to the service in the Temple, when they passed a blind man. They had seen this man before and knew that he had been blind all his life. He had come into the world without eyesight, to the great sorrow of his father and mother; and he lived upon the little coins that people gave him as they were on their way to the Temple. The Jews believed that every disease was caused by some act of sin; that if a man became ill, it was because he had done some wicked deed and was being punished for it; and if a child was born blind, or dumb, or crippled, it must have been because either its father or mother had sinned against God's law. Some of the scribes, who were the teachers of the law, said that each soul lived many times on the earth; that when a man died, his soul went into a body that was born at that moment; and if the new-born baby was blind, or diseased, it was because it had done wrong in some life before that one. None of these things are believed now since Christ has taught men, but they were held by nearly all people while Jesus was on the earth. As the disciples were passing by this blind man, one of them said to Jesus: "Teacher, whose sin was it that caused this man to be born blind? Was it the fault of his parents? Or was it his own fault?" "It was through no fault of his, nor of his father or mother that this man was born blind," answered Jesus. "It was that God might show a wonderful work in him. While daylight lasts, we must be doing God's work; the night will soon come when we can work no longer. As long as I am in the world I am the light of the world, and give light to men." As he said this, he spat on the ground and mixed the spittle with dust, making it into mud, and smeared it on the man's eyes. He said to the blind man: "Now, go down to the pool of Siloam and wash." [Illustration: The Pool of Siloam at the present time] The pool of Siloam was a large tank or reservoir on the southeast of the city, where the valley of the brook Kedron and the valley of Hinnom meet. To go to that place the blind man with two great blotches of mud on his face must walk across the city of Jerusalem, passing all the crowds on their way to worship. He went down to the pool of Siloam, climbed down its steps to the water and washed the mud from his face. In a moment his white, sightless eyes flashed with a new light. He looked up, and for the first time in all his life he could see! As he went to his father's house, everybody who saw him noticed how differently he looked. All had known him as a blind man, groping his way to the place where he used to sit as a beggar. The people asked each other: "Is this the same blind man that begged in the street?" Some said, "Yes, this is the same man." But others said, "No, this cannot be the man; but he is one who looks somewhat like him." He said, "I am the same man." "Then how did you get your sight?" they asked. "The man whom they call Jesus," he answered, "made some mud and put it on my eyes, and said, 'Go to Siloam and wash your eyes.' So I went and washed them; and my sight came to me." "Where is this man who cured you?" they asked. "I do not know," he answered. They took the man who had been blind to the Pharisees, who were the leaders of the people. We have seen that the Pharisees were always enemies to Jesus. So the Pharisees asked him to tell again how he had gained his sight; and he told them: "The man named Jesus smeared some mud on my eyes, and I washed them, and now I can see." Some of the Pharisees said, "This man Jesus cannot be from God, because he does not keep the Sabbath." The scribes had made a rule that mixing up mud on the Sabbath day was working; that carrying it from one place to another was bearing a load; and that to give any treatment to a sick man on the Sabbath, unless it was necessary to save his life, was Sabbath breaking. So to their eyes, Jesus in curing the blind man had broken the Sabbath rules in more than one way. But some others said, "How can a bad man do such wonderful works? Is not this work of cure a sign that God is with him?" So there were two parties among them in their opinion about Jesus. They asked the blind man again: "What do you say of this man who has opened your eyes?" "I say that he is a prophet from God," answered the man. Many of the Jews, however, would not believe that this man had been born blind and had gained his sight, until they sent for his father and mother. "Is this your son," they asked, "the son you say was born blind? How is it that now he can see?" "This is our son," his parents answered, "and he was born blind; of that we are sure. But how it is that he can see now, we do not know, nor do we know who opened his eyes. Ask him--he is old enough--he can speak for himself." His parents spoke in this way because they were afraid of the Jews, for the rulers had agreed that any one who said that Jesus was the Christ should be turned out of the church. That was why they had said, "He is old enough; ask him." So the Pharisees again sent for the man who had been blind, and said to him: "Give God all the praise for your sight; we know that this Jesus is a bad man." "I know nothing about his being a bad man; one thing I do know, that once I was blind, and now I can see." "What did he do to you?" they asked. "How did he open your eyes?" "I have told you all about it already," he replied, "and it seems you do not listen. Why do you want to hear it again? Do you intend to be his disciples?" Then they were in a rage at him, and said, "You may be his disciple, but we are disciples of Moses, and we obey his laws. We know that God spoke to Moses, but we do not know where this fellow comes from!" "Well, this is very strange!" answered the man. "You do not know where he comes from; and yet he has opened my eyes. We know that God does not listen to bad men; but if any man is God-fearing, and does God's will, that man God will hear. Since the world began, no one ever heard before of a man that could open the eyes of one born blind. If this Jesus were not of God, he could do nothing." "Are you trying to teach us?" they answered. "You, who were born a sinner?" Then they turned him out of the church; they forbade him to sit in the meetings or to go into the Temple; and after that none of them would so much as speak to him. Jesus heard that he had been put out of the church; he sought him out, and when he had found him, he asked: "Do you believe in the Son of Man?" "Tell me who he is," said the man, "and I will believe in him." "You have seen him," answered Jesus, "and it is he who is now speaking to you." The man said, "I do believe, Lord," and he fell on his face before him. And Jesus said, "I came into the world to put men to this test, in order that those who cannot see, and know they are blind as this man was, might be made to see; and that those who think they can see should remain blind." Some of the Pharisees who heard this knew that it was a rebuke to them, because they failed to see in Jesus one sent from God. They said: "Then are we blind, too!" "If you were really blind," said Jesus, "you would have no sin to answer for; but as it is, you say, 'We can see,' and so your sin remains against you." Again the Jews were divided over the words of Jesus. Some said, "He is crazy! Why listen to him?" But others said, "These are not the words of a crazy man. Can a man who is crazy open the eyes of a blind man?" [Illustration: The modern village of Siloam] The Good Shepherd CHAPTER 57 AT THE SIDE of the Temple buildings toward the east stood a long balcony or archway, roofed over, with a row of pillars on each side. It was called "Solomon's Porch." On the eastern side it looked over the valley of the brook Kedron, and beyond the valley to the Mount of Olives. In the west it fronted on the great court of the Gentiles. This porch was about a thousand feet long. At the time of the Feast of the Dedication, it was winter, and Jesus was walking with his disciples in this porch. The Jews gathered around him and asked: "How long are you going to keep our minds in uncertainty? If you are really the Christ, the King of Israel foretold by the prophets of old, tell us plainly." "I have already told you," answered Jesus, "and you do not believe me. The works that I do in the name of my Father, they speak for me; but you do not listen because you do not belong to my flock. My sheep listen to my voice; I know them, and they follow me; and I give to them the life everlasting; and they shall not be lost, and no one will ever snatch them out of my hands. My Father who has given them to me is stronger than all; and no one can snatch anything out of my Father's hand." Then Jesus gave the parable or story of "The Good Shepherd." He said: "I tell you in truth, whoever does not go into the sheepfold through the door, but climbs up somewhere else, that man is a thief and a robber. But the man who goes through the door is a shepherd of the sheep. The watchman opens the door for him; and the sheep listen to his voice. He calls his own sheep by their names, for he knows each one of them, and leads them out. When he has brought all his sheep outside, he walks in front of them; and his sheep follow him, for they know his voice. When a stranger speaks to them, they will not follow him, but will run away from him, for they do not know a stranger's voice." Jesus spoke to them this parable, but they did not understand its meaning. So he explained it to them. "In truth I tell you," he said, "I am the Door for the sheep. All who ever came before me and not in my name, were thieves and robbers, but the sheep would not listen to them. I am the Door, whoever enters by me will be safe; and he shall go in and out and find pasture. The thief comes only to kill and to destroy. I have come that they may have life and have it to the full. [Illustration: Eastern sheepfold] "I am not only the Door, but also the Good Shepherd. The Good Shepherd lays down his own life for his sheep. The hired man, who is not a shepherd and does not own the sheep, when he sees a wolf coming, runs away and leaves the sheep. Then the wolf tears them and scatters the flock. The hired man does this, just because he is only a hired man, and does not care about the sheep. "I am the Good Shepherd; I know my sheep, and my sheep know me--just as the Father knows me, and I know the Father--and I lay down my life for the sheep. "I have other sheep, too, which do not belong to this fold; these also I must lead, and they will listen to my voice; and so it will be one flock and one Shepherd. "On this account my Father loves me because I lay down my life, to take it up again. No one took it from me, but I lay it down of myself. I have power to lay it down, and I have power to take it up again. This is the command which my Father has given me. I and my Father are one." [Illustration: The Good Shepherd] Suddenly, as he spoke these words, the Jews began again to pick up stones to throw at him. Jesus said to them: "I have done many good works of God. For which of these works would you now stone me?" The Jews answered, "It is not for any good work that we would stone you, but for those dreadful words, words that would make you, a mere man, to be God!" Jesus answered, "Is it not written in your law, 'I said, you are gods'? If the law calls those 'gods' to whom God spoke his word--and God's book must speak the truth--then why is it such a terrible thing for one whom God has set apart and sent into the world as his messenger, to say of himself 'I am God's Son'? If I am not doing the work of my Father, do not believe me; but if I am doing it, even though you will not believe me, believe what my work shows. Then you will learn and understand that the Father is in me and I am in the Father." Once again they tried to seize him, but he escaped from their hands and went away from Jerusalem. [Illustration: Jerusalem from the north] Sending Out the Seventy CHAPTER 58 AFTER LEAVING Jerusalem, at the time of the Feast of the Dedication, Jesus went across the Jordan, and followed the river upward to the place twelve or thirteen miles below the Sea of Galilee; the place where he had been baptized by John, and where soon after his baptism he found his earliest followers. This place was called by two names, "Bethabara," which means, "the town of the ford," that is where one could wade across the river; and "Bethany beyond Jordan," to keep it distinct from the other Bethany near Jerusalem, where Martha and Mary lived. The twelve disciples were with Jesus at Bethabara, and some who came with him from Jerusalem and Judea. Also when the news went abroad in Galilee that Jesus was at this place, many more hastened to meet him; so that soon a large number of his followers gathered around him. Jesus was now near the border of the land on the east of the Jordan, known as Perea. This word means "beyond," and the land was so named because it was "beyond the Jordan" from Judea. Jesus had never visited this land, although he had preached in every other part of the country; in Judea on the south; in Galilee on the north; in Decapolis on the northeast; and even in Samaria, where the people were not Jews but Samaritans. He made up his mind now to go through Perea preaching, as he had preached in all the other parts of the land. But in Perea, his time must be short, because now only three months remained before the Feast of the Passover, and at that time he must be in Jerusalem. In order to make the people of Perea ready for his coming, and to bring together as many as possible to hear him, he chose the places in that land to be visited. Then he called seventy men from among his followers, and sent them by two and two to these cities and the villages around them, to preach to the people and tell them that Jesus was soon to come among them. To these seventy preachers, Jesus gave the same commands that he had given to the Twelve some months before, when he sent them out to preach in Galilee. He said: "Do not take with you a purse of money, or a bag for food, or an extra pair of sandals. Do not stop to give greetings to any who meet you on the road. Wherever you go into a house, first say, 'May peace be to this house!' Then if one is there who is in the spirit of peace, your peace will rest upon him; otherwise it will come back to you. Stay at that same house while you are in that city, and eat and drink whatever they offer you, for the workman has a right to his wages. Do not move around from one house to another. Whatever town you visit, if the people give you welcome, eat what is given you; cure those that are sick; and be sure to say to the people everywhere, 'The kingdom of God is coming very soon.' "But whatever town you visit, if the people will not receive you nor listen to your message, go out into the streets of that place and cry aloud, 'The very dust of your city that clings to our feet we wipe off as a sign against you; but be sure of this, that the kingdom of God is coming to you soon.' I tell you that in God's day when he will judge men, the punishment of Sodom will be easier to bear than the punishment of that town!" The seventy men went out from Bethabara, going in pairs, two men together, making thirty-five pairs. They visited all the cities and villages in the country of Perea to which Jesus had sent them, the places which he was expecting to visit later; gave to the people the message of Jesus, that the kingdom of God was soon to appear, and thus aroused the people everywhere to an interest in the coming of Jesus. Their errand was finished in a few weeks, for thirty-five pairs of men could soon visit many places; and when they came again to Bethabara, they found Jesus still there. They told Jesus what places they had visited and how they had wrought many cures in his name and through the power which he had given them. With great joy they said to Jesus: "Master, even the evil spirits obey us when we use your name!" And Jesus answered them, "Yes, I have seen Satan, the chief of the evil spirits, fall from heaven like a flash of lightning from the sky. Remember, I have given you the power to tread on serpents and scorpions, and to trample under your feet all the power of the enemy; nothing shall in any way do you any harm. Only, do not rejoice merely because the evil spirits submit to you; but rejoice more because your names are written in heaven as the children of God." [Illustration: A scorpion] While Jesus was at Bethabara, many people came to see him and to hear his words. As this was one of the places where John the Baptist had preached three years before, they compared Jesus with John, and many of them said: "John the Baptist never gave any wonderful works as signs that God had sent him; but he spoke about this man; and all that he ever said of this man was the truth." And while Jesus was at Bethabara many people believed in him and became his followers. Lazarus Called Out of His Tomb CHAPTER 59 WHILE JESUS was still at Bethabara, and expecting soon to begin his journey through Perea, news came to him which led him for a time to change his plans. At Bethany, near Jerusalem, as you remember, were living his dear friends, Martha and Mary and Lazarus. The two sisters sent to Jesus at Bethabara the word: "Lord, your friend Lazarus is very ill." They did not ask Jesus to come and cure Lazarus, but they hoped that he might come, although it would call for a journey sixty miles from Bethabara to Bethany. But Jesus did not at once go to the sick man. He said: "This sickness is not to end in his death; the end of it will be to give glory to God and to the Son of God." Jesus loved Martha and Mary and Lazarus. Yet, when he heard that Lazarus was very ill, he stayed two days longer at Bethabara. Then, after that, he said to his disciples, "Let us go again to Judea." At this the disciples were greatly surprised. They said to him, "Why, Master, only a little while ago the men of Judea were trying to stone you. Is it safe for you to go there again?" "Are there not twelve hours in the day?" answered Jesus. "If a man walks about through the day, he does not stumble, because he can have the light of the sun; but if he walks at night, he does stumble, because he has no light." [Illustration: With a loud voice, Jesus called: "Lazarus! Come out!" And out from the tomb came the man who had been dead.] Then he added, "Our friend Lazarus has fallen asleep; I am going to wake him." "If he has fallen asleep, Master," said the disciples, "he will get well." They thought that Jesus was speaking of taking rest in sleep, which would show that a fever was passing away; but Jesus meant that Lazarus was in the sleep of death. Then he told them in plain words: "Lazarus is dead; and on your account I am glad that I was not there; for now you will learn to believe in me more fully. Come, now, let us go to him." [Illustration: Bethany, where Martha, Mary and Lazarus lived.] At this, Thomas, one of his twelve disciples, who was also called "Didymus," a word meaning "The Twin," said to his fellow disciples: "Let us go too; and if he dies, we will die with him." So from Bethabara they went again to Bethany, two miles from Jerusalem; a journey of about sixty miles. When Jesus came to Bethany, he found that Lazarus had been already four days in the tomb. In the house with Martha and Mary were a number of their friends who had come to show their sympathy with the sisters by weeping with them over their brother's death. Someone went into the room and told Martha that Jesus was coming, and was near the village. She rose up quietly and hastened to meet Jesus, while Mary sat still in the room. When Martha saw Jesus, she said to him mournfully: "Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died. And even now, I know that whatever you ask of God, he will give it to you." "Your brother shall rise to life again," said Jesus. "I know that he will rise again," said Martha, "when all the dead shall be raised up, at the last day." "I, myself," said Jesus, "am the one who raises the dead to life. He who believes in me shall live again, even if he dies; and he who lives believing in me shall never die. Do you believe that?" "Yes, Lord," she said, "I do believe that you are the Christ, the Son of God, who was promised to come into the world." After saying this, Martha went again to the house, leaving Jesus still outside the village. She whispered to her sister Mary: "The Master is here, and he has asked for you." On hearing this, Mary rose in haste and went to the place where Jesus was. The friends who were with her, seeing her go out of the house, thought that she was going to the tomb, to weep there, and they followed her, to weep with her. It was the custom in that land, and still is the custom, for those who had lost a friend, to meet at his grave, day after day, and there to mourn for him. But Mary did not go to her brother's tomb. She went to Jesus, who was still at the place where Martha had met him; and threw herself at his feet, saying, as her sister had said before: "O Master! if only you had been here, my brother would not have died!" When Jesus saw her wailing, and saw the friends with her wailing, he too was troubled and greatly distressed. "Where have you laid him," he asked. "Come and see, Master," they answered. Jesus now began to weep, in feeling for the two sisters. "How he must have loved him!" said the Jews to each other. But some of them said: "Could not this man, who gave sight to a blind man, have kept this man from dying?" Again groaning, but quietly, Jesus came to the tomb. Like many of the graves in that land, it was a cave in the rocky hillside, and a large stone covered its mouth. "Move away the stone," commanded Jesus. "Master," said Martha, "remember that he has been dead four days, and by this time there may be a strong smell from the body." "Did I not tell you," said Jesus, "that if you will only believe in me you will see the glory of God?" They moved the stone away from the door of the cave, and Jesus, lifting his eyes upward, said: "Father, I thank thee for listening to my prayer. I knew that thou always hearest me; but I spoke on account of those around me, that they might believe that thou hast sent me." Then with a loud voice, Jesus called: "Lazarus! Come out!" Out from the tomb came the man who had been dead. He could scarcely walk, for his hands and feet were wrapped with bandages; his face, too, had been covered with a cloth tied over it. "Set him free," said Jesus, "and let him go!" They took away the cloth from his face, and unwrapped the bandages from his body; and Lazarus stood up living and well, in the presence of all the people! How happy were Martha and Mary, as they placed their arms around him, and felt his flesh, warm with the life-blood once more flowing through his veins! As the Jews who had come to visit Martha and Mary saw this wonderful work, calling back to life a man who had been in his tomb four days, many of them believed in Jesus. These told the story to others, and the number of believers grew larger and larger. Some of those who had seen or had heard of the raising of Lazarus to life went to Jerusalem and told the Pharisees, the enemies of Jesus, what had taken place. These men told the chief priests, and the priests and Pharisees called together the high council to talk of these things and to decide what should be done with Jesus. This high council was a board or company of leading men, which, next to the Roman governor, ruled over the Jews. It was made up of seventy-two men, some of them priests and some of them scribes or teachers of the law. They met in a room set apart for their use in the Temple; and they formed the highest court in the land to deal with any who were accused of having broken the laws. When this council came together and heard of what Jesus had done and of the people who, in greater number than ever, were beginning to believe in Jesus, they said to each other, "What shall we do, now that this Jesus has done another work, more wonderful even than any of his works in the past? If we leave him alone, all the people will believe in him, and will seek to make him their King. Then the Romans will come, and will destroy our Temple, and will no longer let us live as a nation." But one of these men in the council was the high priest, whose name was Caiaphas. He said to them: "You are entirely mistaken. You do not understand that whether Jesus is or is not a prophet coming from God, it is better that one man should die, instead of having all the people destroyed. Let us all agree that Jesus shall be killed, and that the people of Israel shall be saved from death." These words of Caiaphas the high priest meant more than he knew when he spoke them. He was himself, being the high priest, speaking a prophecy, that Jesus was to die for the people; for that was what Jesus was soon to do. He was to die for the sins of the people; not only for the Jewish people but for all the people of the world. By his death, Jesus was to bring together into one body all the children of God scattered throughout all the lands. At that meeting of the council, the rulers decided that Jesus must be killed. Not all of them agreed in this, for Nicodemus, who long before had come at night to talk with Jesus, and a rich member of the council, named Joseph--of whom we shall hear later--and a few others, were friendly to Jesus. But his enemies were so many and so fierce that these few friends of Jesus did not venture to speak for him. So the vote was taken that Jesus was to be put to death. Jesus, knowing all things, knew their plans; and he knew that when the time came he should die. But that time had not yet come, for he had promised to preach his gospel in Perea, across the Jordan. He went, therefore, to a town on the edge of the wilderness, called Ephraim, and there for a few weeks he stayed with his disciples. The great Feast of the Passover was drawing near, and many people were coming up to Jerusalem to prepare themselves for the Feast. They were looking out for Jesus, and said to each other as they walked in the courts of the Temple: "What do you think? Do you think that Jesus will come to the Feast?" The chief priests and the leading Pharisees had given orders that if any one found out where Jesus was, they were to be told, so that they might send men to arrest him. [Illustration: The Via Dolorosa, or Sorrowful Way, over which, it is said, Christ walked carrying his cross] Jesus Preaching in Perea CHAPTER 60 JESUS DID not stay long in the village of Ephraim. He went down the mountains to the river Jordan, crossed it, and began preaching in the land of Perea, going to the places where his seventy messengers had given the news of his coming. Everywhere the people thronged in great crowds to see him and to hear him. The rich and the poor met in the crowd, the rulers and the common people, the Pharisees who were his enemies, and the publicans or tax-collectors who had been leading lives full of sin. There was a great desire among the people to listen to the Teacher and Prophet from Galilee, of whom they had heard so much, and whom they had not seen before. Many went to see him because they believed that he was the long-looked-for Christ, who was at last on his way to Jerusalem to sit on his throne and rule all the lands. So great were the crowds to see and hear Jesus that it is said that the thousands trod on each other around him. While he was speaking in one place to a great multitude of people, a voice was heard from the throng. "Teacher," cried out a man, "tell my brother to divide with me the property which belongs to our family." This man supposed that Jesus, being the King of Israel, would rule in all matters of difference between the people. But Jesus answered him: "Man, who made me a judge or a settler of disputes over your affairs?" Then he added, "Take care to avoid the love of money; for no matter how rich one may be, his true life does not depend on what he owns." [Illustration: Home of a rich man in Palestine] And he gave to them the parable or story of "The Poor Rich Man." He said: "There was once a rich man whose farm gave him very large crops. He began to ask himself, 'What am I to do? I have no room to store the grain and fruits that have grown on my land. This is what I will do. I will pull down my old barns and build larger ones in place of them. There I shall store all the fruits from my orchards and the grain from my fields. And then I will say to myself, "Now you have plenty of good things stored up to last for many years; take your ease, eat, drink and have a good time."' But God said to him 'Fool! this very night your life is taken away; and who will have all that you have stored up?' So is it with everyone who lays up money for himself, instead of gaining the riches of God." [Illustration: "Look at the lilies, and see how they grow"] And Jesus said again to his disciples some of the things that he had already taught them in his great "Sermon on the Mount"; for he often repeated the same teachings, over and over, until the disciples knew them by heart, so that after he should be taken from them, they in turn could tell them to others. At this time he said: "Therefore I tell you, do not be anxious about your life here on the earth, what you can get to eat, nor what you can get to wear. Life is something more than food and the body is more than its clothes. Look at the crows flying through the air! They neither sow nor reap; they have no storehouse nor barns; and yet God gives them food. How much more are you worth to God than are the birds? And however anxious you may be, can you add one minute to your life? And if you cannot do even this, why be anxious about other matters? "Look at the lilies, and see how they grow. They neither spin nor weave; and yet, I tell you, even King Solomon in all his splendor was not dressed like one of these. Now, if God so beautifully clothes the grass in the field, which blooms today, and tomorrow will be thrown into the fire, how much more will he clothe you, O men, who trust God so little? "So do not worry about food and drink and clothes; these are the things for which the nations of the world who know not God are seeking after, and you should not wish to be like them. Besides, your Father in heaven knows that you have need of these common things. Only seek the kingdom of God, and your heavenly Father will see to it that you have these things. Do not be afraid, my little flock, for your Father has been pleased to give you a place in his kingdom." At this time some people brought to Jesus the news that Pilate, the Roman governor, had killed in the Temple some men from Galilee, while they were worshipping at the altar, so that their blood was poured out with the blood of their offerings. This act of the governor had terribly shocked the people. "Do you suppose," said Jesus, "that because those Galileans suffered these things, that they were worse sinners than the rest of those living in Galilee? I tell you, no; unless you turn from your sins and seek God, you will all perish as they did. "Then, too, think of those eighteen men in Siloam, just outside of Jerusalem; those men on whom the tower fell and killed them all; do you suppose that they had been worse than all the other people living in Jerusalem? No, I tell you; unless you turn to God, you will all perish as they did." Then Jesus gave to the people the parable of "The Fruitless Fig Tree." He said: "A man who had a fig tree growing in his garden came at the time when figs were ripe, looking for fruit, but found on it not a single fig. So he said to the gardener, 'Here I have come for three years looking for fruit on this tree, without finding any. Cut it down! Why should it take up room and rob the soil?' But the gardener answered him, 'O please, sir, leave it one year more. I will dig around it and enrich the soil; then it may bear fruit next year. If it does not, then let it be cut down.'" [Illustration: Beneath an olive tree is a delightful place to rest, for all about it usually grow flowers of many kinds] [Illustration: "O Jerusalem, Jerusalem! How often would I have gathered your children around me, as a fowl gathers her brood under her wings!"] In the Church and at the Feast CHAPTER 61 WHILE JESUS was in Perea, on the Sabbath days he went into the churches and spoke there; and in every place the church was crowded with those who were eager to hear him. On one Sabbath day he saw in the church a woman who for eighteen years had been bent double and could not possibly stand up straight. When Jesus saw her, he called her to him. "Woman," he said, "you are set free from your weakness." He placed his hands upon her, and instantly power came to her. She stood up erect, and with a loud voice praised God for her cure. But the president of the board in the church was greatly displeased that Jesus had done this on the Sabbath. He said to the people: "There are six days in the week for work; come on one of these to be cured, and not on the holy Sabbath." "O you false-hearted men, making a pretense of serving God!" said the Lord Jesus. "Does not each one of you on the Sabbath day unloose his ox or his ass from its manger, and lead it out to drink? And this woman, a daughter of Abraham our father, whom the evil one has held bound for all these eighteen years, should she not be set free on the Sabbath?" As he said this all those who were opposed to him felt ashamed of themselves; while the people rejoiced to see all his wonderful doings. As Jesus went through the towns and villages, all the time on his way toward Jerusalem, he repeated many of the parables and teachings that he had given in other parts of the land, such as "The Narrow Door," "The Mustard Seed," "The Yeast in the Dough," and others. The land of Perea, where he was now teaching, belonged to the Kingdom of Herod. Some Pharisees, who were enemies of Jesus, came to him and said: "You had better get away from this land, for King Herod means to kill you." This they said, not to save the life of Jesus, but to make him leave their land. But Jesus answered them: "You may go and tell that fox that I am casting out the evil spirits and curing diseases today and tomorrow, and on the third day I shall finish my work. But I must go on my way today, tomorrow and the day after tomorrow, for it would never do for a prophet to meet his end except in Jerusalem. O Jerusalem, Jerusalem! killing the prophets and stoning those whom God has sent to you! How often would I have gathered your children around me, as a fowl gathers her brood under her wings! But you would not come! Truly, your house is left to you to be destroyed. Never, I tell you, shall you see me again until the day comes when you will say, 'Blessed be He who comes in the name of the Lord.'" In one place he was invited by one of the rulers who was a Pharisee to come to his house for dinner. There were at the table other Pharisees and people not friendly to Jesus, and they watched him closely. He saw in the room a man who was swollen with the dropsy; and Jesus asked the teachers of the law and the Pharisees: "Is it according to the law to cure a sick man on the Sabbath, or is it not?" They said nothing. Then Jesus laid his hands on the man and cured him, and sent him away. Afterward he said: "Is there any one of you who, finding on the Sabbath day that his ass or his ox has fallen into a pit, will not at once pull him out without waiting for a working day?" They could not answer him this question. He noticed that those who had been invited to the dinner picked out for themselves the best places, near the head of the table; and he gave them this advice. "When you are invited to a marriage feast, do not take one of the best places. It may be that some person of higher rank than you has been invited; and then the one who gives the feast comes to you and says, 'Here, make room for this man!' Then you must get up ashamed and take a place down at the foot of the table. No, when you come to the feast, go to the lowest place, then when the giver of the feast sees you, he will say, 'My friend, come up higher,' and you will be honored in the presence of all your fellow-guests. For every one who lifts up himself shall be humbled; and the one who humbles himself shall be lifted up." Jesus said also to the ruler who had invited him, "When you give a dinner or a supper, do not ask your friends, or your brothers, or those who are your relatives, or your rich neighbors, for they may invite you in turn, and thus you will be repaid. No, when you give a dinner, invite the poor, the cripples, those who have lost an arm, and the blind. Then God will give you his blessing; for these people cannot repay you; and you will receive your reward when God raises up the good from their graves to everlasting life." One of those at the table heard these words of Jesus; and he spoke out, "Happy will he be who shall sit down at that feast in the kingdom of God!" Jesus answered him by giving the parable of "The Supper and the Excuses." He said: "There was once a man who was giving a great supper, to which he had invited many of his friends. At the hour for the supper, he sent out his servant to say to the guests who had been invited, 'Come at once, for everything is now ready!' But all of them with one mind began to decline his invitation. The first man said to the servant: "'I have bought some land, and I must go and look at it. Please to excuse me.' "The second said, 'I have bought five pair of oxen, and I am going to give them a trial. Please to have me excused.' "Another said, 'I cannot come, because I have just married a wife.' "The servant went home and told his master all these answers. Then the master of the house was very angry. He said to his servant: "'Go out quickly into the streets and alleys of the town, and bring in here the poor, the cripples, the blind and the lame.' "Soon the servant came back, saying, 'Your orders have been carried out, sir; but there is still room for more.' "'Go out into the country,' said the master of the house, 'to the roads and the hedges, and make the people come in, to fill up my house; for I tell you that not one of those that were invited shall taste of my supper.'" On Counting the Cost CHAPTER 62 AT THIS TIME while Jesus was in Perea, preaching in the towns, greater crowds than ever before were following him, claiming to believe in him as the son of David and the King of Israel. Most of these people saw that he was going toward Jerusalem, and the report went abroad among them that when he reached that city he would take the throne that had been King David's; and not only would be king of that land but lead the Jewish people to conquer all the lands. Very many of the crowd following Jesus had no thought of what it meant to be his disciples. They were expecting great things--riches and honor and power--but knew nothing of the sufferings that Jesus must endure and that his followers must face in the days soon to come. Jesus was not willing to have such careless and thoughtless followers as these. He spoke to them words that seemed harsh and forbidding, but were meant to make them think of what they must meet if they would be among those who believed in him. Turning to the multitudes that were flocking around him, he called out to them: "If anyone comes to me, and does not hate his father, and mother, and wife, and children, and brothers and sisters, yes, and his own life besides, he cannot be a disciple of mine. Whoever does not carry his own cross and walk in my steps cannot be a disciple of mine!" [Illustration: AROUND JERUSALEM ] Jesus did not mean quite all these words he seemed to speak. He did not wish sons and daughters really to hate their fathers and mothers, nor parents to hate their own children; but he did mean that no one should say, 'My father and mother do not consent to my following Jesus, and therefore I cannot be his disciple.' Nor did he wish that parents should say, 'I have children to care for, and I must not believe in Jesus, and become his disciple.' He wished those who were following him without thought, to ask themselves whether they were willing to lose all for Christ's sake, and to serve him, no matter who were opposed to him or what they might suffer in his service. "Who of you," said Jesus, "when he wants to build a tower, does not first sit down and count the cost, and see whether he has enough money to finish it? If he can only lay the foundation, and then must leave the work unfinished, everybody who sees the half-completed wall will laugh at him and say, 'This fellow began to build, but he could not finish!' "Or what king sets out to go to war with another king, and does not first sit down to consider whether with ten thousand soldiers he can fight the king who comes against him with twenty thousand? If he does not dare to meet his enemy, then while his army is still a great way off, he sends an officer to ask for terms of peace. So will it be with every one of you who will not give up all that he has; he cannot be a disciple of mine." What Jesus meant was this, "Think whether you will hold out to the end, if you would be among my followers. And think, too, whether you will dare to meet the hate and opposition that you must overcome in becoming my disciples." He went on with such words as these: "Every true disciple of mine is like salt; and salt is good as long as it has its own salty taste. But if it loses its saltiness and becomes tasteless, is there any way to make it good salt again? It is of no use either for the land, nor even for the manure heap, but people throw it away as useless. So will it be with everyone who loses the salt of my life in himself. Now, do not let these words of mine go into one ear and out from the other. Listen, and think of what I have said!" Seeking the Lost CHAPTER 63 [Illustration: "But one was out on the hills away ... Away on the mountains wild and bare"] THE PHARISEES were very careful to keep all the rules of the Jewish law, and were supposed to be very religious, because they prayed often in public places and went regularly to church. But Jesus saw that their religion was only pretended and not real, and would have nothing to do with them, except rebuke them for their sins. The scribes, who were the teachers of the law in the churches, expected Jesus to give them special honor. But both Pharisees and scribes were very angry when they found that Jesus paid them no attention, and was friendly with the tax-collectors whom all the Jews despised and hated. Jesus even allowed some to come near him who were outcasts, people who did not go to church and did not try to keep the rules of the Jews. The Pharisees and the scribes said in great scorn of Jesus, "This man welcomes sinners, and even sits down at the table to eat with them!" [Illustration: Searching for the lost silver-piece] Jesus heard of their words, and answered them in the parable of "The Lost Sheep." He said: "If one of you has a hundred sheep, and loses one of them, does he not leave the ninety and nine sheep in the sheepfold out in the fields, and go after the lost one until he finds it. When he has found it, he puts it on his shoulders with great joy and carries it home. And when he comes to his house, he calls together his neighbors and his friends, saying to them, 'Come and be glad with me; for I have found my sheep which was lost.' "So I tell you, there is more joy in heaven over one outcast sinner who turns away from his sin to God, than over ninety-nine religious men who are good already and do not need to turn from sin." A lady has written this parable in verses that have been set to music and sung many times. These are her verses: THE NINETY AND NINE There were ninety and nine that safely lay In the shelter of the fold, But one was out on the hills away, Far off from the gates of gold-- Away on the mountains wild and bare, Away from the tender Shepherd's care. "Lord, thou hast here thy ninety and nine; Are they not enough for thee?" But the Shepherd made answer, "'Tis of mine Has wandered away from me; And although the road be rough and steep I go to the desert to find my sheep." But none of the ransomed ever knew How deep were the waters crossed; Nor how dark was the night that the Lord passed through Ere he found his sheep that was lost. Out in the desert he heard its cry, Sick and helpless, and ready to die. "Lord, whence are those blood drops all the way That mark out the mountain's track?" "They were shed for one who had gone astray Ere the Shepherd could bring him back." "Lord, whence are thy hands so rent and torn?" "They are pierced tonight by many a thorn." But all through the mountains, thunder-riven, And up from the rocky steep, There arose a cry to the gate of heaven: "Rejoice! I have found my sheep!" And the angels echoed around the throne, "Rejoice! for the Lord brings back his own!" MRS. ELIZABETH C. CLEPHANE. Jesus also gave to the people another parable, "The Lost Silver-piece." He said: "Or, if there is a woman who has ten silver coins, and loses one of them, what will she do? She will light her lamp, and sweep her house, and search carefully for her money, until she finds it. And when she finds it, she goes out and calls together her women-friends and neighbors, and says, 'Come and rejoice with me, for I have found the silver-piece which I had lost.' "Even so, I tell you there is rejoicing among the angels of God over one sinner that turns to God." It might be asked--why did the woman need to light a lamp when searching for her lost coin? In that land, the houses of the plain people have either no windows, or one window for the whole house, which is merely a hole in the wall. The rooms are dark, even at mid-day, and to look on the floor thoroughly, and especially in the corners, a lamp must be lighted and carried close to the floor. [Illustration: Silver Denarius of Tiberius. (Penny, Matt. 18: 28, etc., 16 cents.)] The Parable of the Lost Son Found CHAPTER 64 YOU REMEMBER that the enemies of Jesus, the Pharisees and scribes, said of him, "He gives welcome to bad men, and eats at the table with them!" Jesus in answer gave a parable or story to show how God welcomes a sinner who turns from his sin and seeks his heavenly Father. This is one of the most beautiful among all the parables of Jesus. It is called "The Prodigal Son." The word "prodigal" means one who spends his money, throwing it away in a careless manner; and this story is of a young man who spent all the money that his father gave him. Here is the parable: "There was once a man," said Jesus, "who had two sons. The older son stayed at home and helped his father in the care of his farm, but the younger son was restless and wanted to go away. The young man said to his father: "'Father, give me now the share of what you own which will come to me after you die.' "So the father divided all that he had, his land, his vineyards, his olive orchards, his fig trees, his houses, his flocks of sheep and goats, and his money, into three equal parts. Two of these parts he kept for the older son; and the third part he gave to the younger son; for in that land it was the rule for the older son, as the head of the family, to receive twice as much as a younger son. "After a few days, the young man sold out his share of the property for ready money, and then went away to a land far off, where he could live as he pleased. There he began to lead a foolish and wild life, feasting and drinking wine with worthless men and women. It did not take him many months to spend all his money and to be in great want. None of these people who had helped him in his pleasures were now ready to help him in his need. And what added to his trouble was that just then food became very scarce in that country and there was not bread enough for all the people. [Illustration: "There in the open field among the grunting hogs sat this young man"] "This young man was in want of everything. His clothes became rags, his shoes were worn out, and what was worse, he could get nothing to eat and was starving for the want of food. Never before had he done any work, but now, driven by hunger he went everywhere looking for something to do which would give him a mouthful of bread. At last he found a man who was willing to hire him. This man sent him out into his field to take care of his pigs and feed them. This was a work felt to be disgraceful, for no Jew would eat pig's meat or in any way touch the vile animals. But even this work the poor young man was compelled to do rather than starve to death. In the field he was so hungry that he was ready to snatch up some of the bean-pods on which the pigs were feeding; and no one in that country cared for him or would even give him something to eat. [Illustration: The father fell on his son's neck] "So there in the open field among the grunting hogs sat this young man, ragged, famished and almost ready to die. Suddenly the thought came to him of his father's house, where once he had enjoyed plenty and lived at ease, waited upon by servants. He now saw how foolish, how ungrateful to a kind father, and how wicked he had been. It seemed to him as if he had been living in a dream, had now for the first time awaked and had come to his senses. He said to himself: "'Why, even the hired men on my father's farm have more food than they can eat; and here I am almost dead with hunger! I will get up and will go to my father; and I will say to him, "Father, I have sinned against God in heaven and against you. I don't deserve any more to be called your son; only make me one of your servants working for wages."' "So the poor young man left the field and the pigs, and went back to his father's house. There in the door sat his father waiting and watching for his wandering son. While the son was still a long distance away, the father saw him and knew him, barefoot and ragged as he was. He felt pity for his son, whose looks showed his utter misery, and ran to him, fell upon his neck, placed his arms around him and kissed him. "'Father,' said the young man, 'I have sinned against God in heaven and against you. I don't deserve any more to be called your son--' But the father did not wait to hear him any further. He called out to the servants: "'Be quick, bring some new clothes, the very best in the house, and put them on him; bring a ring to place around his wrist and sandals for his feet; go pick out the fattest calf in the stall, and kill it for a feast! Let us all eat and have a happy time together. For this son of mine was dead and has come to life again; he was lost and is found!' "So they began to make merry. Now the older son was out in the field; and as he came near the house, he heard the sounds of music and dancing. Wondering what was the cause of such gladness, he called to him one of the servants and asked what all this meant. "'Your brother has come home,' answered the servant, 'and your father has killed the fattest of the calves, and is having a feast, because he has him back safe and sound.' "This made the older son very angry. He would not go in to the supper, but stayed outside. His father came out and begged him to come in and give a welcome to his brother. "But he refused, saying, 'Think of all the years that I have been serving you! Never have I once disobeyed you; and yet you have never given me even a little kid out of the flock of goats, for me to have a merrymaking with my friends. But as soon as this son of yours comes home, who has wasted your money with vile people, you kill the fatted calf and for him make a great feast.' "'My son,' said the father, 'you and I are always together, and everything that I have is yours. We could not help being glad and rejoicing; for your brother here was dead, and is alive again; he was lost and is found.'" You can see that in this elder brother of the story was the spirit of the Pharisees and the scribes, who were displeased because Jesus was willing to welcome those who had been sinful, when they came to him, sorry for their sins. The Parable of the Dishonest Steward CHAPTER 65 AT THIS TIME Jesus gave to his disciples the parable of "The Dishonest Steward." A steward is a man who takes care of any business or lands or houses belonging to another man who employs him. Jesus said: "There was a rich man who had a steward who took charge of all his business. Some one told the rich man that his steward was cheating him and making a wrong use of his money. So the master sent for the steward and said: "'What is this that I hear about you? Hand in your accounts, for you shall not be my steward any longer.' "The steward was at first greatly troubled at this; and he did not know how he could live if his office as steward was taken away. "'What shall I do,' he said to himself, 'now that my master is taking away from me my place as steward? I am not strong enough to dig in the ground as a farmer, and I am ashamed to beg in the streets. Oh, I know what I can do, so that when my office as steward is taken away the people will invite me to their homes to live with them.' "One by one the steward called to him the men that were owing his master. "'How much do you owe my master?' he asked of the first. "'A hundred barrels of oil,' answered the man. "'Here, take your bill,' said the steward, 'and instead of a hundred barrels, make it fifty barrels.'" This, you see, was making a present to the man of fifty barrels of oil, but not from the steward himself; instead, stealing it from his master, to give to the man who owed him. "Then to the next man he said, 'And how much do you owe?' "'A hundred bushels of wheat,' answered the man. "'Here is your bill,' said the steward; 'make it eighty.' "And so he treated all those who were owing to his master, giving to each one a part of his debt; so that they would be friendly to him and give him help when he should need it. [Illustration: The dishonest steward] "When his master heard of all this, he praised the steward, not for doing rightly, but for looking ahead and taking care for the time to come." And Jesus said, "The people of this world often are wiser in looking ahead, and planning for the days to come, than are those who have the light of God. And I say to you: use the money of this world to make friends with it, not on earth, but in heaven; so that when you leave the earth, they may welcome you to homes in heaven that never pass away. He who is faithful with a small trust is also faithful with a large trust; and he who is not honest but tries to cheat in little things, will be dishonest and try to cheat in great things. So if you cannot be trusted with the money of this world, who will trust you with the riches of God? And if you are not faithful with what belongs to another, how can you expect to have anything forever as your own? "No servant can serve two masters at the same time; for either he will hate one master and love the other; or else he will stand by one master and despise the other. You cannot serve God and at the same time live for money." All these things were spoken in the hearing of the Pharisees, who were fond of money and grasping. They listened, with contempt and scorn in their hearts. Jesus knew what was in their minds, and he said to these Pharisees: "You are the men who make people believe that you are good, but God sees and knows what is in your hearts. What is lofty in the sight of men is vile in the sight of God." A Parable for the Lovers of Money CHAPTER 66 JESUS KNEW that the Pharisees, for all their church-going and their carefulness in keeping the rules of their law, were in their hearts lovers of money, and were living for the things of this world and not for God. He gave to them a parable about a rich man who suddenly became poor, and a poor man who became rich. It is called "The Parable of the Rich Man and Lazarus." "There was a rich man," said Jesus, "who dressed in purple robes, like a king, and lived in a splendid great house, with many servants to wait upon him, and feasted every day upon the finest food. Outside the door of the rich man's house was laid every morning a poor beggar named Lazarus, who was covered with sores and was glad to eat the crumbs and broken pieces from the rich man's table. The dogs of the street used to come and lick his sores. "After a time, the poor man died, and his soul was taken by the angels to be in heaven with Abraham, the father of God's people; because in all his poverty he had lived for God, trying always to do God's will. The rich man died, too, and was buried. But no angels came to carry him to the land where Abraham was living in happiness. His soul went to the place of woe and sorrow and suffering; not because he had been rich, but because in his riches he had never thought of God. "The rich man, being in torment, looked up, and far away saw Abraham, with Lazarus in his arms. "'O Father Abraham,' he called out, 'take pity on me, and send Lazarus to dip the tip of his finger in water and cool my tongue, for I am burning in this flame!' "'My son,' answered Abraham, 'remember that when you were alive on the earth you had all your enjoyment, while Lazarus in his life had poverty and pain. Now Lazarus has comfort for all his trouble and you are in misery. Besides all that, between us in heaven and you in the dwelling place of the wicked, there is a great valley, a gulf which no one can cross, either to go from us to you or to come from you to us.' [Illustration: Lazarus before the rich man's door] "'If that be so,' said the once-rich man, now so poor, 'and Lazarus cannot come to me, I beg of you, Father Abraham, to send Lazarus to my father's house; for I have five brothers; let him speak to them in time, so that they may not come to this place of terrible suffering.' "'They have the writings of Moses and the words of all the prophets,' said Abraham; 'let them listen to these.' "'But, Father Abraham,' he said, 'if some one from the dead should go to them, they would turn from sin to God.' "'If they will not listen to Moses and the prophets,' said Abraham, 'they will not believe, even if some one should rise from the dead.'" As the twelve disciples of Jesus heard this parable, they said, "Lord, make our faith stronger!" "If you had faith like a grain of mustard seed," said Jesus, "you could say to this mulberry tree, 'Be uprooted and planted in the sea,' and it would obey you. "Which one of you, if he had a servant plowing in the field or tending sheep, when he comes in from the field will say to him, 'Come at once and take your place at the table for your supper'? No, he will say to his servant, 'Get my supper ready; then make yourself ready to wait on me while I am eating and drinking; and after that you may have your supper.' "Does a master thank his servant for doing what he has been told? Well, it is the same with you; when you have done all that you have been told, say, 'We are only servants; we have done no more than we ought to have done.'" Two Parables Upon Prayer CHAPTER 67 JESUS TOLD his disciples a parable to show that they should always keep on praying and never be discouraged. This parable is named "The Parable of the Unjust Judge." "In a certain city," he said, "there was a judge who in his rule did not try to do right, but was often unjust and wicked; for he had no fear of God and no care for what men said about him. And in that city there was a widow who came many times to this judge, crying over and over again, 'Do for me what is right against the man who has done me wrong!' "For some time the judge paid no attention to her, for right and wrong were both the same to him. But after a while the judge said to himself: "'Although I have no fear of God and no care for man, yet as this widow is so troublesome to me, and gives me no rest, I will do what she asks, for I am tired of her coming and of her calling out for her right every day.' "Listen," said the Lord Jesus, "to what this unjust judge says. And if a man who does not care for right or wrong will at last answer a prayer, how much more will your heavenly Father listen to his own children when they call upon him day and night, even though he seems to make them wait long for the answer to their prayers? I tell you that God will do right by them and answer their prayers, and that very soon! Yet when the Son of Man comes, will he find on earth those who are looking for him and who believe in him?" Jesus also told a parable to some people who were sure of their own goodness and looked down upon others. This parable is that of "The Pharisee and the Tax-Gatherer." "Two men," said Jesus, "went up to the Temple to pray. One of these men was a Pharisee; and the other was a tax-gatherer. The Pharisee stood up and began praying to himself, not to God, in words like these: "'O God, I thank thee that I am not like other men--thieves, wrongdoers, and wicked--or even like this tax-gatherer. Twice in every week I eat no food, to show that I am worshipping God; I give to God's house one-tenth of all that I get.' [Illustration: "Two men went up to the Temple to pray; one was a Pharisee and the other a tax-gatherer"] "But the tax-gatherer stood far away, and would not raise his eyes toward heaven. He beat his breast, saying: "'O God, have mercy on me and forgive my sins!' "I tell you," said Jesus, "this tax-gatherer went to his house with his sins forgiven, instead of the Pharisee. For every one who uplifts himself will be brought low; and every one who humbles himself will be lifted up." The Little Children; and the Rich Young Man Chapter 68 WHILE JESUS was still passing through the land of Perea, on his way to Jerusalem, at one place the fathers and mothers brought their babies to him, asking him to place his hands on their heads and speak upon them a blessing. When the disciples saw them doing this, they were not pleased. "Take these babies away!" they said. "The Lord is too busy with greater things to attend to them!" But Jesus heard them, and he was displeased, not with the parents and their children, but with his disciples. "Let the little ones come to me," he said, "and do not stop them; for the kingdom of God comes only to those who are child-like. I tell you, whoever will not give himself up to the kingdom of God as a little child shall never come into the kingdom." Then he took the little ones up into his arms, laid his hands upon them and gave them his blessing. After that he went away from that place. Soon afterward a young man who was one of the leaders in the church of his town came running, and bowed low before Jesus. "Good Teacher," said the young man, "tell me what to do if I am to be saved and have life everlasting." "Why do you call me 'good'?" answered Jesus. "There is only one who is really good; that is God. To be saved, you have only to do God's will. You know what his commandments are; keep them." [Illustration: Jesus and the rich young man. "Sell everything that you have, and give all the money to the poor."] "Why, what commands do you mean?" asked the young man. He supposed that Jesus, like many of the scribes, who were the teachers of God's law, had given some special rules of his own. Jesus said to him, "I mean the ten commandments of God, such as, 'Thou shalt not steal; thou shalt not kill; thou shalt not say what is false; honor thy father and thy mother,' and so on." [Illustration: Jesus laid his hands upon the little ones and gave them his blessing] The young man said, "Teacher, all these I have kept ever since I was a child. What more do I need?" As Jesus looked at this young man, so eager in his wish to please God, he loved him, and felt a special longing to have him among his disciples. "If you really wish to be perfect," he said to the young man, "you do need one thing more. Sell everything that you have, and give all the money to the poor, and you will have your treasure in heaven; and come, follow me, and be one of my disciples." When the young man heard those words, he felt greatly disappointed, and turned away, unwilling to do what Jesus asked, for he was very rich, and he loved his money. After he had left them, Jesus turned to his disciples: "How hard it is," said Jesus, "for a rich man to come into the kingdom of God!" As the disciples heard this, they were greatly surprised, for all the Jews thought that to have riches was a sign of God's special favor. As they stood silent, not knowing how to answer these words, Jesus said again: "Children, how hard it is for those who trust in their riches to enter into the kingdom of God! It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle, than for a rich man to get into the kingdom of God!" They were amazed at this, and said, "Then who can be saved?" "What is impossible with men," answered Jesus, "is possible with God." "But we," said Simon Peter, "have left everything, and have followed you. What shall we have in the kingdom for all this?" Peter thought, as did all the crowds who were going up to Jerusalem with Jesus, that there he would set up his kingdom and give rich rewards to his disciples. [Illustration: "Let the little ones come to me," said Jesus, "for the kingdom of God comes only to those who are childlike."] "In truth I say to you," answered Jesus, "that you who have followed me, in the new kingdom when the Son of Man shall sit upon his throne, you twelve men, my disciples, shall sit upon twelve thrones, ruling over the twelve tribes of Israel. And every one who has left home, or wife, or children, or parents, or brothers, or sisters on my account, and for the sake of God's kingdom, shall receive in this life a hundred times as much as he has lost, and in the world to come, life everlasting. But many that are first in this world shall be last in the kingdom; and some that are the lowest here will be the highest there." [Illustration: The Bay of Acre and the modern town Haifa] The Workers in the Vineyard CHAPTER 69 JESUS EXPLAINED by a parable what he meant in saying, "Many that are first shall be last, and some that are lowest here will be the highest in God's kingdom." This parable was "The Workers in the Vineyard." "There was a man," said Jesus, "who owned a vineyard. He needed men to work in his vineyard; and one day, early in the morning, went out to hire them. Some men met him and agreed to work for him at fifteen cents for each day's work; so he sent them out to his vineyard. At about nine o'clock he was walking through the market place, and seeing some other men standing around, waiting for work, he said to them: "'You go to work in my vineyard, and whatever is fair, I will pay you.' "He went out again at noon; he found men wanting work and sent them also into his vineyard, saying to them, 'Whatever are fair wages, I will pay you.' Again at three o'clock, he found other men and sent them, too, making them the same promise. He went into the market place at five o'clock, almost at the end of the day, and found some men standing there. 'Why do you stand here doing nothing?' he said to these men. They answered him: "'We would be glad to work; but nobody is ready to hire us.' "'You go into my vineyard, too,' he said, 'and I will pay you whatever is right.' "When the evening came, the master of the vineyard said to his foreman, 'Now call the workers together and pay them their wages. Begin with those who came to work last, then pay those who went into the vineyard at three o'clock, and so on, ending with those who went to work earliest.' "So those came up first who had been hired last, and had worked only one hour; and to each of them was paid fifteen cents, the wages of a full day's work. When the first came, they supposed that they would be paid more, because they had worked longer; but each was paid his fifteen cents, as had been agreed upon. These men complained to the master of the vineyard. "'Those men who came in last, when the day was almost ended,' they said, 'have been made equal to us, who have borne the hard work and the heat of the day. That is not fair!' "'My friend,' said the master to one of these men, 'I am not cheating you. Did you not agree with me to work for fifteen cents a day? Take up your wages and go. I choose to give to this last man the same as to you. Haven't I the right do so as I please with what belongs to me? Are you jealous because I am generous?' "So," said Jesus, "there are last who will be first; and there are first who will be last." This parable shows how God gives his rewards differently from men. Men pay only for work that is done; but God gives his pay to those who are _willing_ to work for him, whether they are able to work or not; for while men look at the deed, God looks at the heart. Every day Jesus was drawing nearer to Jerusalem, and his twelve disciples with all the multitude of those who were following him, fully expected that in Jerusalem Jesus would reign as the King of Israel. He had told them before, and more than once, that he was going up to Jerusalem to die there; but their minds were so fixed upon thrones and kingdoms and worldly power that they could not understand his words. Now Jesus called together his twelve disciples, apart from the crowd. "Listen!" he said, "We are going up to Jerusalem, and there everything that is written in the books of the prophets about the Son of Man shall come to pass. He will be given up to his enemies, the chief priests and the scribes, the teachers of the law; and they shall sentence him to be put to death, and shall hand him over to the Romans to be mocked and beaten and nailed to a cross to die; and on the third day after, he will rise from the dead." But the disciples did not understand what these words meant. They were just as certain as they had been before, that he was going up to Jerusalem to take the throne and rule, and they even talked among themselves about the chief offices in his kingdom and who should have them. When they were drawing near to Jerusalem, but still in the land of Perea, a woman came to Jesus with her two sons. This woman was named Salome; and she was the wife of Zebedee, and the mother of James and John, two of the leading disciples of Jesus. She bowed low even to the ground before Jesus, and begged him to grant her a favor. "What is it that you want?" said Jesus to her. "I want you to promise me," said Salome, "that in your kingdom these two sons of mine shall sit, one on your right hand and the other on your left." "You do not know what you are asking," answered Jesus. "Can you drink of the cup that I am to drink? Can you receive the same baptism that is coming to me?" "Yes," the two men said, "we can!" "You shall indeed drink my cup, and be baptized with my baptism," said Jesus. "But it is not mine to say who shall sit on my right hand and on my left. Those places shall be given to those whom my Father has chosen for them." By his cup and his baptism, Jesus meant his sufferings and his death; but this James and John did not know. When the other ten disciples heard of this they were very angry with the two brothers for trying to get ahead of them. But Jesus called them to him and said: "You know that in the nations of this world their rulers lord it over them, and their great men make the people serve them. But it must not be so with you. Whoever among you has the will to be great, let him be a servant to the others; and whoever would be first, let him be even as a slave. For the Son of Man came not to be served, but to serve, and to give up his life that he may save many." [Illustration: The river Jordan] [Illustration: Bartimeus, hearing that Jesus had sent for him, sprang up and flung his coat to the ground, and was led to Jesus.] The Blind Man at the Gate CHAPTER 70 JESUS HAD now ended his work of preaching in the land of Perea, on the east of the Jordan. With his disciples and a great throng of people who were going up to the feast of the Passover at Jerusalem, he came to the river at another Bethabara, or "the place of the crossing," because like the Bethabara near the Sea of Galilee, the river though very wide was very shallow, so that people could wade across it. This Bethabara was opposite the city of Jericho, which had been built up and made beautiful by King Herod the Great, about forty years before. More than a thousand years before Jesus stood beside the river, the Israelites had walked across it to enter the land; when God held back the water. Jesus could have walked on the water if he had chosen to do it; but he never caused a miracle for himself, though often he did for others. At that time some of the people going up to Jerusalem waded across the river, holding their clothes on their heads, while others crossed in a ferry-boat. We are not told in which way Jesus went across the river. Six miles from the river Jordan, on the west, stood Jericho, toward which Jesus came with a great crowd of people around him. As he drew near Jericho, a blind man was seated beside the gate, begging for the small coins of those who passed by. This blind man's name was Bartimeus, a word which means "the son of Timeus." Hearing the tramping and the voices of a crowd, he asked why so many people were coming. They said to him: "Jesus the Nazarene is passing by." Bartimeus had heard of Jesus and his good works, curing many that were blind and lame and lepers. He had often wished that Jesus might pass his way and cure him. Now, when he heard that Jesus was really coming, he shouted out at the top of his voice: "Jesus, son of David, have pity on me! Jesus, son of David, have pity on me!" The people who were in front told him to be quiet; but he felt that this was the chance of his life, and he kept on calling, "Jesus, son of David, have pity on me!" Jesus stopped, and said to those near, "Go, and bring this man to me." Then they said to Bartimeus, "Be of good cheer; get up and go to Jesus, for he is calling you!" Bartimeus was in such a hurry to get to Jesus that he sprang up, flung aside his cloak, and left it on the ground, while they led him to the Lord. When he came near, Jesus said to him: "What would you have me do for you?" "Lord," he answered, "let me have my sight again!" "Have your sight," said Jesus, "your faith has made you well." And at once his sight came back to him; and he joined the crowd following Jesus, giving praise to God with a loud voice. And all those who saw this wonderful work added their praises to God. In the Rich Man's Home at Jericho CHAPTER 71 BUT BLIND Bartimeus was not the only man in Jericho who was eager to meet Jesus. In that city was living a very rich man named Zaccheus, who was the head of all the tax collectors in that part of the country. He had heard that Jesus was unlike other Jews, in being friendly toward the tax gatherers, and he greatly desired to see him. But Zaccheus was a small man, and in the crowd he could have no chance to look at Jesus, so he ran on ahead and climbed up into a mulberry tree that stood beside the road, and from a place among its branches he could look down upon the passing multitude. When Jesus came opposite to the tree, he stopped, looked up and saw Zaccheus, and said to him: "Zaccheus, make haste and come down; for I must stop at your house today!" He was surprised and glad that the great Teacher should choose his house, out of all the homes in Jericho, to stay in. He came down and walked with Jesus to his house. But all the people began to find fault, saying: "He has gone to visit at the house of a man who is a sinner!" For they took for granted because many of the tax gatherers were wicked men and robbed the people, that all of them were bad. [Illustration: Jesus called out to Zaccheus in the tree: "Make haste and come down, for I must stop at your house today!"] Zaccheus knew how they were feeling and what they were saying; so he came forward, and stood before Jesus and said: "Hear me, Master! I will give half of all that I own to help the poor; and if I have robbed or cheated anyone, I will pay him back four times as much as he has lost!" "Today," said Jesus, "in this house a man has been saved from his sins; since even Zaccheus here is a true son of Abraham our father. For the Son of Man has come to look after the lost ones and to save them." As the people were listening, he went on and spoke a parable to them; for he knew that as he was going up to Jerusalem, they were looking for the kingdom of God to be set up at once. This was "The Parable of the Pounds." "A certain prince," said Jesus, "was going to a city far away, to be made a king, and then to come back and rule over his own land. Before leaving, he called ten of his servants, and gave to each one five hundred dollars, and said to him, 'Trade with this until I come back.' Then he went away. "But the people of his land hated him, and sent messengers to follow him to the distant city and to say, 'We will not have this man as our king.' "However, the prince was made king and came home to reign over his land. Then he sent for his servants to whom he had given the money, so that he might learn how much each one had made by buying and selling. The first servant came and said: "'My lord, the five hundred dollars which you gave me has gained five thousand dollars.' "'Well done, you good servant,' said the king, 'because you have been so wise and faithful with a small amount, I will make you the governor over ten cities in my kingdom.' "Then came another servant, who said, 'My lord, your five hundred dollars has made five times as much as you gave me. Here are twenty-five hundred dollars.' "'Very well,' answered the king, 'you may be the ruler over five cities.' "Soon one of the servants came, saying, 'My lord, here is your five hundred dollars, just as you gave it to me. I have kept it safe for you, wrapped up in a napkin. For I was afraid of you; you are such a hard, selfish man. You pick up what you never put down; and you reap what you do not sow.' "'You worthless servant!' answered the king, 'out of your own words will I pass judgment upon you. You knew, did you, that I was a hard man, picking up what I never put down, and reaping what I did not sow! If you knew this, why then did you not put my money into the bank? Then when I came home I could have gotten interest upon it, the money gained by lending it.' "Then he said to those standing by, 'Take away from him the five hundred dollars, and give it to the one who has five thousand dollars!' "'My lord,' they said, 'why, he has five thousand dollars already! Why give it to him?' "'That is the very reason why he should have it,' said the king. 'I tell you, that to him who has, more shall be given; and as for him who has not, even the little that he has shall be taken away from him.'" "'And now, for these enemies of mine,' the king went on, 'those men who sent word that they would not have me for their king, seize them, and bind them in chains and bring them here. Let them be slain in my sight!'" With these words Jesus went onward up the mountain road leading to Jerusalem. The Alabaster Jar CHAPTER 72 FROM JERICHO to Jerusalem was a journey of fifteen miles up the mountains by a very steep road; a road often dangerous on account of the robbers who were hidden among the rocks by the wayside. But at the time of the Passover when thousands of people were going up to the feast, it was safe, through the crowds traveling together. Up this road Jesus walked with his disciples and a great throng of people, all on their way to the Passover. He did not, however, go directly to Jerusalem, but turned aside when near the city, and stopped at the village of Bethany for a visit with his friends, Martha and Mary and Lazarus. They were very, very glad to see Jesus now, for you remember that on his last visit, some months before, he had called Lazarus out of his tomb to live again. It was on Friday, just six days before the Passover was to be held, that Jesus came to Bethany. There, at the house of a man named Simon, a supper was given in honor of Jesus. This Simon had been a leper, but had been cured by Jesus, so that he had his own reason for showing love and honor to Jesus. At the supper, the guests sat leaning on couches, with their heads toward the table and their feet away from it; and those who waited at the tables passed the food and drink around to the guests. Among those who were serving at the table was Martha, the sister of Lazarus. [Illustration: Mary anointing Jesus' feet with fragrant oil from the alabaster jar] On the couch standing at the head of the table was leaning in the middle Simon, who gave the feast. On his right hand, in the place of honor, was Jesus; and on his left was Lazarus. On the side tables were lying the disciples of Jesus and other guests. Suddenly, into the room came Mary, the sister of Lazarus. She carried in her arms a jar made of marble, of the kind called alabaster. Its cover was sealed; but Mary broke the seal, and at once a rich perfume arose in the air and floated not only through the dining hall, but the whole house, for the jar was filled with a very fragrant and costly oil. Mary walked up the aisle between the tables and the couches whereon the guests were lying. She came opposite to Jesus, and poured some of the oil upon his head; then walked around the couch, poured the rest of it upon his feet and wiped them with her long hair, hanging loose upon her shoulders. [Illustration: Judas secretly bargaining with the chief priests for the betrayal of Jesus into their hands] Everybody in the room was surprised at Mary's act; and one of the disciples of Jesus said aloud: "What a waste this is? Why, that jar of perfume was worth at least fifty dollars! It might have been sold and the money given to the poor!" The one who said this was Judas Iscariot, the wicked disciple who was already planning to give up his Lord to his enemies, the chief priests and rulers. Judas was the treasurer for Jesus and his twelve disciples. They all lived as one family, kept their money in one purse, and in addition whatever money was given to Jesus by his friends. Judas kept this purse; but he was a thief, and stole some of the money, that he might use it for himself. When Judas saw all the precious oil poured upon the head and feet of Jesus, he was angry, for he looked upon it as so much money that he might have kept. "Why do you find fault with this woman?" said Jesus. "It is a beautiful thing that she has done to me. You will always have the poor with you, but you will not always have me. As she poured this perfume on my body, she did it for my burial, which is soon to take place. I tell you, wherever in the whole world my gospel shall be preached, the act of this woman will be told, and she will be remembered on account of it." All the friends of Jesus were expecting him soon to go to Jerusalem and set up his kingdom and rule. They did not understand his words about dying and rising from the dead. But Mary, among them all, knew that Jesus was soon to die, and it was not only to show her love toward him for bringing her brother to life, but in a very tender way to put into an act what she would not say in words, that her Lord would soon die and be buried. After this supper, Judas Iscariot, the disciple who had spoken against Mary and her gift, quietly made up his mind to give Jesus over to his enemies. He saw that Jesus would not be such a king as he wished him to be, and he had begun to fear that his stealings were known, or at least suspected. He went secretly to the chief priests and the rulers and said to them: "What will you pay me if I will give Jesus into your hands?" They were glad to hear this, and said to him, "We will give you thirty pieces of silver." This was a little less than twenty dollars in our money, and it was the price paid for a slave. Think of it, for the value of a slave, the Lord of all the earth was sold by one of his own chosen followers! Judas was sharp in his dealing with the priests. He was afraid that, after he had given Jesus up to them, he might be cheated out of his money. So he said: "Pay me the money now; and when the right time comes, I will show you how to make Jesus of Nazareth your prisoner." They gave Judas the thirty pieces of silver; and from that moment Judas was looking for the chance to put Jesus into the hands of his enemies. [Illustration: Jewish shekel] Palm Sunday CHAPTER 73 THE NEWS that Jesus was at Bethany went abroad, and very soon the village was thronged with people eager to see him. Many of these were men who had come from the country up to Jerusalem for the feast of the Passover; and most of them were ready to believe in Jesus as the Christ, the promised King of Israel. Some came to Bethany, not only to see Jesus, but to see Lazarus also, the man whom Jesus had raised from death to life. The rulers, who had already made up their minds to put Jesus to death and had paid Judas to give him up to them, said to each other: "If we are to prevent these people from making Jesus of Nazareth their king, it will not be enough to kill Jesus; we must first kill Lazarus, for on his account many are following Jesus." On the morning after the supper at Simon's house, Jesus decided to go into Jerusalem. He called two of his disciples and said to them: "Go into the next village on the road to Jerusalem, and just on the edge of it you will find an ass tied, and with it a colt on which no one has ever ridden; untie them and bring them to me. If anyone asks you, 'Why are you doing that?' tell him, 'The Master needs them; and will send them back soon;' and he will let you take the ass and the colt." The two disciples went to the village, and found in the street in front of a house an ass and a colt tied just as Jesus had said. They were untying them when the owner, who was standing by, said: "What are you doing, untying the ass?" "The Master needs it," answered the disciples; and when the man heard this, he allowed them to take the ass and the colt. They brought them to Jesus at Bethany; and on the ass-colt they laid their cloaks, to form a cushion for Jesus; and he sat upon the colt, which never before had been ridden upon. Then the crowd, seeing that Jesus was riding toward Jerusalem, walked with him, some going before and some following after. Those in front spread their clothes upon the road before Jesus; others threw on the ground leaves from the field; while many waved branches of palm taken from the trees beside the road. [Illustration: The brook Kedron] And before they came to the top of the Mount of Olives, which was between Bethany and Jerusalem, another crowd of people met them, coming from the city to see Jesus. And all the multitude shouted together: "God save the King, the Son of David! Blessed is he who comes in the Lord's name! Blessed is the kingdom of our father David! Praises be to the Lord!" For all this crowd of people believed that now, at last, the kingdom of God was to be set up, with Jesus as Christ and King. But in the multitude were some Pharisees, enemies of Jesus, who became very angry as they saw the crowd waving the palm branches and cheering for Jesus as King. These men came up to Jesus as he was riding and said to him: "Teacher, tell your followers to stop this noise!" "I tell you," answered Jesus, "that if these men should keep still, the very stones would cry out!" Soon they came to the top of the Mount of Olives, and then the Temple and the city of Jerusalem were in sight before them. As Jesus looked upon the city, the tears came into his eyes and he said: "O Jerusalem, Jerusalem! If only you might know, even now, while yet there is time, what would give you peace! But no, it is hidden from your sight! The time is coming when your enemies will build walls and forts around you, and shut you in on every side; and trample you down into the dust, and your children with you. They will not leave in you one stone standing upon another--and all because you would not understand when the Lord was visiting you." Jesus rode down the Mount of Olives, and across the valley of the brook Kedron. At the gate of the Temple he got off from the back of the colt, and sent it with the ass back to its owner. As he came into the city and the Temple there was a great stir, the people everywhere flocking to meet him. "Who is this?" they said; and the crowds answered, "This is the Prophet Jesus, from Nazareth in Galilee!" [Illustration: Many waved branches of palm, and all the multitude shouted together: "God save the King, the son of David! Blessed is he who comes in the Lord's name!"] The Pharisees said to each other, "We can do nothing! The whole world has gone after Jesus!" Everybody, both the friends and enemies of Jesus, looked to have him take control of the city and act as a king. But Jesus only went into the Temple and walked around it. By this time it was evening, and Jesus returned with his disciples to Bethany. Forty years after that time, the terrible things that Jesus declared were to fall upon Jerusalem, did come to pass. The Jews rose against the Romans and made war upon them. A mighty Roman army came, and swept over all the land, bringing ruin and death everywhere. The Romans laid siege to Jerusalem, and built a strong wall around it, so that no one could come out or go in. The people fought desperately, until they were starved and could fight no more. At last the Romans broke into the Temple, and set the city on fire. Both the Temple and all the city were utterly destroyed; untold thousands of the people were slain, and many thousands more were sold as slaves. And from that time, seventy years after Jesus was born, and forty years after he died on the cross, the Jews have not had of their own a land or a city. [Illustration: After teaching in the Temple all day, Jesus went out in the evening over the Mount of Olives to the home of his friends in Bethany.] Monday on the Mount and in the Temple CHAPTER 74 AFTER THE royal coming of Jesus to the city and the Temple, on the next morning--which was Monday--Jesus left Bethany very early, without waiting for his breakfast, and with his twelve disciples walked over the Mount of Olives toward Jerusalem. The walk and the early morning air made him hungry, and seeing a fig tree covered with green leaves in a field near the road, he went to it, hoping to find some figs upon it. The laws of the Jews allowed any person passing by a field which was not his own, to take as much fruit or grain as he wished to eat, but not to carry any away; so that Jesus had a right to go to this tree and help himself to its fruit. Jesus knew that it was not quite the time for ripe figs, for they do not become ripe in that country before May or June, and that day may have been in March. But on the sunny slope of the Mount of Olives figs often ripen early in the season and as the figs always come before the leaves, wherever the leaves were abundant, there might be among them some ripe figs. But when Jesus came to the fig tree, and looked at it closely, he found that upon it was no fruit, either ripe or green, but only leaves. Then a thought came to Jesus, and in the presence of his disciples he spoke to the fig tree. "From this time let no fruit ever be picked from this tree forever!" he said. This was not because Jesus was angry with the poor tree, which could not help not having fruit. It was because he saw in that tree a parable or picture of the Jewish people. They made a show of serving God, and were like trees covered with leaves; but they did not bring forth the fruit of good lives, of love to God and their fellow-men. They were fruitless trees, and trees which have been planted and kept for fruit are of no use without fruit. The twelve disciples who were with Jesus around the fig tree heard those words, and soon had cause to remember them. [Illustration: As the traders looked upon Jesus and heard his stern rebuke, they became afraid and rushed out of the court before him] From the Mount of Olives they walked, as on the day before, across the valley of the brook Kedron, and again came into the Temple. You remember that two years before when Jesus visited the Temple, he then drove out from its court all the people that he found buying and selling and changing money. But in the two years that had passed, they had all come back, and the Court of the Gentiles was again a place of business and of confusion. All around were oxen lowing and sheep bleating; their owners calling upon the people passing by to come and buy them; cages full of pigeons and doves were standing on every side; and from a row of tables might be heard the chink of silver, as the money of foreign lands was changed for that of Judea. When these traders saw Jesus standing before them, some of them could remember how two years before he had driven them out of the Temple, and all saw in him the man whom only yesterday the people had welcomed as the coming King of Israel. There was a look upon the face of Jesus which made all these wrongdoers afraid of him; and when he spoke in the hearing of them all, "God's book says, 'My house shall be called a house of prayer; but you are making it a den of robbers,'" with one accord they rushed out of the court before him, driving out the sheep and oxen, carrying away the cages of doves, and even upsetting the tables of the money-changers. Jesus saw that people who were coming from outside the wall were carrying goods and jars of water and of oil through the Court of the Gentiles as the nearest way to the city, so that the court was becoming merely a street between the city and the country. He put a stop to this carrying of loads through the Temple courts; and would not allow even a jar of water to be taken by way of the Temple into the city. This building in all its parts was the house of God, and Jesus as the Son of God gave commands that everywhere it was to be used only for the worship of his heavenly Father. After casting out all these evil things from the outer court, Jesus walked up the steps to the inner court, called the Treasury. There he sat down, and for the rest of the day taught the people who crowded around him. While he was in the Treasury, they led to him the blind, and he gave them sight by a word; and the lame came in on crutches, or were carried in by their friends to his feet, and he gave them power to walk. Boys too were marching around the Temple and shouting everywhere, "May God save the Son of David!" All these things made the priests and the rulers very angry; for they were only waiting for a chance to find Jesus alone and make him their prisoner, and they could do nothing while such crowds were around him, all believing that he was the promised Son of David and King of Israel. But these enemies of Jesus could not keep quiet amid all these praises. "Do you hear," they said to Jesus, "what these boys are shouting? Why do you not tell them to be still?" "Yes, I hear them," answered Jesus, "and have you never read what is said in the book of Psalms, 'Out of the lips of little children, even of babies in their mothers' arms, thy praises have been made perfect?'" Jesus stayed in the Temple teaching until the evening drew near. Then he went with his disciples back to Bethany for the night. There among his friends he was safe. Tuesday Morning in the Temple CHAPTER 75 AGAIN ON Tuesday morning of that great week, the last week of our Saviour's life on earth, he went with his disciples out of Bethany to go to Jerusalem. As they were walking up the Mount of Olives, they came to the fig tree to which Jesus had spoken on the morning before. It was standing upon the hillside, but withered and dead, its dry leaves turned yellow, rustling in the wind. "Master, look!" said Peter, "the fig tree to which you spoke those words yesterday is all withered!" "Have faith in God," answered Jesus. "I tell you in truth, that if any one of you should say to this mountain before us, 'Be lifted up and thrown into the sea,' and should not have in his mind a doubt, but believes that what he says will come to pass, it shall be done. So I say to you, whatever you pray God for, believe that God gives it to you, and it shall be yours. But keep this also in mind, whenever you stand up for prayer, if there is anything that you have against anybody, forgive him. Then, and then only, will your Father in heaven forgive you your sins against him." Again they came to Jerusalem, and walked across the Court of the Gentiles now quiet and free from the confusion of the morning before, no buying, no selling, and no carrying of loads through it to the city. They went into the Treasury, where Jesus had taught and cured on the day before; and they found it already full of people who had come together, hoping to listen again to the words of the great Teacher. [Illustration: The chief priests angrily demanded of Jesus: "What right have you to come here and act as a ruler?"] But not only were there in the Temple people friendly to Jesus, and eager to hear him; the chief priests, the teachers of the law, and the members of the great council, were also there, ready to do all in their power against him. These men were very angry at Jesus for what he had done on the day before. They pushed their way through the crowds up to Jesus, and said to him, with an air of lordship: "What right have you to come here and act as a ruler? Who gave you the right to do what you did yesterday?" "I will ask you a question," answered Jesus promptly, "and if you will answer that, then I will tell you who has given me the right to do what I have done here in the Temple. What do you say about John the Baptist--did he speak the words of God as his messenger? Or did he speak his own words only, without authority or power from God? Answer me that question!" They were taken aback at this answer of Jesus; and began talking together, while the crowd around looked on. "What shall we say?" they whispered to each other. "If we say, 'John the Baptist spoke from God,' he will ask, 'Then why did you not believe his words and obey him?' No, let us say, 'He spoke only as a man, without authority or power from God.' But then, if we say that, the people will stone us, for they all believe that John was a true prophet of God." So after a time these men said to Jesus, "We cannot answer your question. We don't know whether John spoke the words of God or his own words." Then said Jesus, "No more will I tell you who has given me the power to do these things." For Jesus well knew that if these men had not believed when John the Baptist said, "Thus saith the Lord," they would not believe him saying, "I do only what my Father tells me to do." [Illustration: The pool of Mamilla, at Jerusalem] Three Parables of Warning CHAPTER 76 IMMEDIATELY after answering the question of the priests and the rulers, Jesus gave three parables, one directly after another; and all aimed at his enemies. The first was "The Parable of the Two Sons." "What do you think of this?" said Jesus. "There was a man who had two sons. He went to the older son, and said to him, 'My son, go and work in the vineyard today.' 'Yes, sir,' said the young man. 'I will go.' But although he had given his promise to go, he broke it, for he did not go. "Then the father spoke to his second son, as he had spoken to the first. 'My son, go and work today in the vineyard.' This one said to his father, 'I will not go.' But afterward he was sorry, and went into the vineyard to work. Now tell me, which of these two sons did as his father told him to do?" They answered him, "The second." "I tell you truly," said Jesus, "that the tax-gatherers and the bad women are going into the kingdom of God instead of you, who believe yourselves to be better than others. For John the Baptist came and showed you how to live, and you would not believe him nor do as he said. But the tax-gatherers and the bad women believed him and turned from their evil ways to God. And even when you saw them turning from evil to good, you would not seek God after them and follow the words of John." Then Jesus spoke to these rulers another parable, called "The Parable of the Wicked Vine-dressers." "Listen to another parable," he said. "A man who owned some land planted upon it a vineyard of grape-vines. He put a fence around it, dug a wine-vat inside it, and built a tower in the middle of the vineyard, so that a watchman might be on the lookout against thieves. Then he let it out to vine-dressers, to take care of it, and at the time of ripe grapes to send him his share of the fruit or its worth in money. After leasing the vineyard, he went away to another country. [Illustration: Vineyard and watch-tower in Bethlehem] "When the time for the vintage drew near, the time for gathering the grapes, he sent his servants for his share of the fruit. But instead of giving him what belonged to him, the vine-dressers seized his servants. One servant they flogged and drove away, another they killed, and a third they stoned. A second time the owner sent some other servants, more than before; and the vine-dressers treated them in the same way. And so it was with many others; some they beat and some they killed. "The owner of the vineyard had one son, a young man, whom he loved very dearly. Last of all he sent this son to them, saying to himself, 'They will surely respect my son, and will not treat him as they have treated the servants.' "But those men said, as soon as they saw him, 'This is the one who is to own the vineyard when his father dies. Let us kill him, and then the vineyard will be ours.' So when he came, they seized him and killed him, and flung his body outside the vineyard. "Now, I will ask you," said Jesus, "when the owner of that vineyard comes, what will he do to those vine-dressers?" They answered, "He will utterly destroy those vile, cruel men, and will lease his vineyard to other vine-dressers, who will give him every year his share of the fruit." "Have you never read this verse," said Jesus. "The stone which the builders refused Has now become the chief and corner-stone; This is the work of the Lord, And it is wonderful in our sight?" "I tell you," added Jesus, "that the kingdom of God shall be taken from you and given to a people that brings to God its fruits. Yes, and he who falls on this stone shall be dashed to pieces; and whoever this stone falls on shall be ground to powder!" As the chief priests and Pharisees and rulers heard these parables, they knew at once that they were spoken against them. They were eager to seize Jesus, but were afraid of the crowds around, for all the common people looked upon him as a prophet speaking God's word. Jesus gave a third parable: that of "The Marriage of the King's Son." This, given in the Temple, was in some parts like another, "The Parable of the Great Feast," which he had already given in Perea; but other parts of it, as we shall see, were different from that parable. "There was a certain king," said Jesus, "who gave a great supper at the marriage of his son. He sent out his servants to those who had been invited to the feast, but they would not come. Once again he sent some other servants, and told them to say to the guests: "'Here is my supper all ready, the oxen and fat cattle have been killed; everything is ready; come to the feast.' "But they paid no attention to his words, and went off, one to his farm and another to his shop. And some seized his servants, ill-treated them and even killed them. This made the king very angry. He sent his army, put those murderers to death and burned up their city. "Then the king said to his servants, 'The marriage feast is ready; but those who were the invited guests were not fit for it. Go out into the streets of the city and the roads in the country, and ask everybody whom you meet to come to the wedding.' The servants went forth into the roads, and brought to the feast all whom they met, both the bad and the good. So the marriage supper had plenty of guests. "When the king came in to meet the guests, he saw a man among them who was not wearing a wedding robe. For as each guest came to the house, a beautiful robe was given him, to be worn at the supper. "'My friend,' said the king to this man, 'how was it that you came in here without a wedding robe?' "The man stood silent, for he had nothing to say. Then said the king to his servants: "'Tie this man hand and foot, and throw him out of doors into the darkness. There men will wail and gnash their teeth. For I tell you that many are invited, but few are chosen.'" The Head on the Coin CHAPTER 77 THE ENEMIES of Jesus thought that, perhaps, they might lead him to say some words against the Roman rulers over the land. If he would do this, then they could complain to the Roman governor and cause Jesus to be seized and put in prison, or even slain, as an enemy of the Roman state. These priests and Pharisees and rulers themselves hated the Romans, and would gladly throw off the Roman yoke if they dared to do it; but they were willing to pretend friendliness to their Roman masters, if only through them they could destroy Jesus. [Illustration: The head on the coin] With this purpose in mind, while Jesus was in the Temple on that Tuesday morning, they sent to him some men whom Jesus had never met, men who seemed honest and true; for they knew that if they came themselves Jesus would at once see through their plans and be on his guard against them. They did not know that Jesus as the Son of God knew all things, could look into every heart of man and read all their thoughts. So these men came to Jesus in the Temple and tried at first to speak flattering words to him to win his favor. "Teacher," they said, "we know that you are honest and speak the truth; that you are not afraid of anybody and do not try to please men, but say only what is right. There is a question that troubles us, for we do not know how to meet it. For that reason we bring it to you, for we know that you will give us a right answer. Tell us now what you think about it. Is it right for our people to pay taxes to the Roman rulers over the land? Shall we pay, or shall we refuse to pay?" [Illustration: Silver coin of Tiberius Cæsar] This was indeed a hard question to answer, especially to answer at once, without time for thinking about it. For if Jesus should say, "Do not pay the tax," the Romans would arrest him as an enemy to their rule, and might even put him to death, as they had seized and slain many for this very act of refusing to pay the taxes. At that very time hundreds of men were hiding from the Romans in caves and forests, trying to escape from paying this tax. On the other hand, if Jesus should say, "Pay the tax," all the common people would turn against him; for all the Jews hated this tax, which was a sign of the Roman power over them; and every man among them only paid it because he was afraid of the Roman governor and the Roman soldiers. But Jesus saw through all their plots and plans, and he had his answer ready. "You men of false heart, pretending to be honest!" he said, "why do you try to catch me in a snare? Let me see some of the tax money!" They brought to him a piece of silver, a Roman coin. He looked at it closely and then asked: "Whose head is this that I find upon the coin? What are the words around the edge?" "Why, that is the head of the Roman emperor, Tiberius Cæsar, and those words are his title." "Well, then," said Jesus, "give to Cæsar what belongs to Cæsar; and be sure to give to God what belongs to God." There was nothing in that answer which they could make to appear either unfriendly or friendly to the Roman rule; nor yet was there anything that could be used against Jesus with the people. Wondering at the answer of Jesus, these men left him. [Illustration: Jewish half-shekel, the coin in which the Temple tax was paid--"tribute money" (Matt. 17:27)--value, 32 cents] The Woman with Seven Husbands CHAPTER 78 WE HAVE heard much in the story, of the Pharisees, who were looked upon as leaders of the people in religion, because they regularly went to church, paid the church dues and obeyed all the rules, foolish as some of those rules seemed. These Pharisees, as you know, were bitter enemies of Jesus, and everywhere stirred up the people against him. But there was another party among the Jews, the Sadducees, whom we have not mentioned up to this time. These people were equally opposed to the Pharisees and to Jesus. They were easy-living men, not paying much attention to the church rules; and in fact not going often to the church, which you know was called "the synagogue." But although they cared little for the churches in the different towns, they cared greatly for the Temple in Jerusalem, for most of the priests in the Temple were Sadducees, as also were many of the rulers in the great council of the Jews. The Sadducees did not believe that there was any soul in man, nor any life after this life, nor any angels, nor any rising from the dead hereafter, nor any heaven or hell. They believed that when a man died and was buried, that was his end forever. Some of these Sadducees tried to puzzle Jesus with a question. They came to him in the Temple that Tuesday while he was speaking to the people. "Teacher," they said to him, "you remember that in the law of Moses it is ordered that if a man should die without any children, but leaving a wife, then the man's brother shall take the widow for his wife, and raise a family for his brother. Well, there were living seven brothers. The oldest of these married a wife, and after a time died, leaving no children. Then the second married her, and he too died without a child. The third took her and died, the fourth also, and all the rest of the seven died, leaving no children. Finally the woman herself died. Now, you have been teaching that there will come a day when the dead shall rise to life. When that day comes, and these seven men rise, all of whom were married to this woman, whose wife out of them all will she be, for every one of them in turn was married to her?" "You make a mistake," answered Jesus, "because you do not understand the teachings of the Bible; nor do you know how great is the power of God, who can at a word call the dead up to life. In this world men and women marry because they live on earth only for a time, and must have families to live after them. But when the dead are raised up, they do not rise as husbands and wives, nor do they marry in that world to come, for they will have no need to raise up families to take their places. In that land all live forever, like the angels of God. And as to the resurrection, the rising from the dead, have you not read the words that God spoke to Moses at the burning bush? "'I am the God of Abraham, and the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob.' "Now God is not the God of dead men, but of living men. For in the sight of God all men are alive, even after they have died on earth." While Jesus was answering these questions--that of the rulers of the Temple about his right to drive out those that were buying and selling; that of the Pharisees about the paying of taxes; and that of the Sadducees about the resurrection, the rising from the dead--the people were standing around, listening. Although the rulers were enemies of Jesus, the common people were friendly, and heard him gladly. They saw how ready and how apt his answers were, and they were greatly pleased to find the enemies of Jesus put to confusion before him. [Illustration: The tomb of David as shown to-day in Jerusalem] The Greatest of All the Commandments CHAPTER 79 WHILE JESUS was talking in the Temple and answering all these questions, a teacher of the law was standing near and listening. He saw how well Jesus answered all the questions put to him, and coming up to him, said: "Teacher, what commandment stands first of all?" We might suppose that he was speaking of the Ten Commandments and asking which of these is the most important. But that was not his purpose. He was thinking, not of the commandments given by God, but of the rules made by the scribes. One teacher would say that the rules about keeping the Sabbath were the greatest, another that the rules about washing were first; and so on, each scribe or teacher laying stress on one set of rules above another. Jesus looked upon all these little laws made by men as of no importance; and this was his answer to the scribe who had asked the question: "The first and greatest of all the commandments is this, 'Hear, O ye people of Israel; the Lord our God is one Lord; and thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy mind, and with all thy strength.' And the second commandment is this, 'Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself.' There is no other commandment greater than these two." To love God with all the heart is to do God's will, not because we must do it, but because we love to do it and find joy in doing it. And to love our neighbor means to feel an interest in our fellow-men and to do for them whatever we would wish to have them do for us. "You are right, Teacher!" said the scribe in answer to Jesus. "It is true, as you say, that there is one God; and there is no other God besides him. And to love God with the whole heart, and with the whole mind, and with the whole strength; and to love one's fellow-man as one's self--this is far beyond all offerings upon the altar!" [Illustration: Ruins at the place where Jesus foretold the destruction of Jerusalem] Jesus saw that this man's words were true and good and that he had the right thought of our duty to God and to our fellow-man. He said to him: "You are not far from the kingdom of God." This was the last question put to Jesus. No one ventured to ask him any more, for they were afraid of his wonderful answers. The chief priests and the rulers were more and more angry at him, but the common people listened to him willingly. While Jesus was teaching he in his turn asked a question of the Pharisees and teachers of the law. "Tell me," he said, "what you think of the Messiah-Christ, the King of Israel, promised to come. Whose son is he?" They answered at once, "David's son." "How is it then," asked Jesus again, "that David in one of the psalms calls him 'Lord'? "The Lord said to my Lord, 'Sit at my right hand, Until I put your enemies under your feet.' "If David calls this coming Christ 'my Lord,' how can he be David's son?" This they could not answer, and they dared not ask Jesus any more questions. But we know, from the words of the New Testament, that while Christ as a man was sprung from David's line, as the Son of God he was David's Lord. After this Jesus spoke strong words to the priests, the scribes, and the rulers, for their wickedness of life for their leading the people away from God's will, and for their unjust, cruel purpose to put him to death. He told them that for their sins and the sins of their people, the Temple should be thrown down, the city of Jerusalem should be destroyed, and the land should be made desolate. These were his last words, and when he had spoken them, he rose up to go out of the Temple. The Greatest Gift; and the Strangers from Afar CHAPTER 80 THE ROOM in the Temple where Jesus spoke on that Tuesday, the last day of his teaching in public, was called "The Treasury," because beside its walls were chests or boxes in which people who came to worship placed their money for gifts to pay for the offerings of poor people. As Jesus rose up to leave the room, he noticed the people dropping their money into these boxes. Some rich men made a show of giving large sums of money, letting it make a noise as they dropped it slowly, piece after piece, into the box. There came in a poor woman, whose dress showed that she was a widow; and she dropped into the box two little copper coins, worth together only a quarter of a cent. Jesus saw her, and calling his disciples, he said: "I tell you in truth, that in the sight of God this poor widow has put into the box more money than any of the others. All the rest have been putting in money that they could spare and did not need. But she in her need gave all that she had, her whole living!" Then Jesus walked out of the Treasury through the door on the east, which was so richly decorated that it was called "The Beautiful Gate," his disciples with him. They stepped down into the Court of the Gentiles; and at the foot of the stairs met a number of men whose looks and dress showed that they were not Jews, but foreigners. These men were Greeks, from a land far away. They were waiting for Jesus at the foot of the stairs, for not being Jews they were forbidden to enter the inner courts of the Temple. These Greeks stepped up to one of the twelve disciples, Philip, who had come from Bethsaida in the north of Galilee, and could speak their language. "Sir," they said to Philip, "we would like to meet Jesus." Philip was not sure whether his Master would be willing to talk to these men; for Jews kept Gentiles or foreigners at a distance, would never eat with them, and would scarcely speak with them. Philip thought that Andrew, the brother of Peter, might know whether to bring these men to Jesus or not, so he spoke to Andrew, and Andrew took the lead in coming to Jesus with the Greeks. [Illustration: The poor widow drops in two little coins] "The time has now come," said Jesus, "for the Son of Man to be lifted up, and to die. For it is only by dying that I can bring forth fruit. When a kernel of wheat is dropped into the ground, unless its outside shell dies, it lives alone; but if it dies, then it becomes a seed and brings a harvest of many kernels of wheat. He who loves his life and keeps it, loses it; but he who takes no care of his life here shall have it forever. If any man is ready to serve me, let him follow me; and where I am going there shall my servant be with me. If any one is my servant, he shall have honor from my Father." At that moment it came to the mind of Jesus that in less than three days he would be hanging dead upon the cross. For an instant the thought gave him pain. "I am deeply troubled, and have sorrow in my heart," said Jesus, "and what can I say? Shall I say, 'Father, save me from the hour that is coming so soon?' No, I will not say that, because it was for that hour of death on the cross that I have lived even until now. I will say, 'Father, give honor to thine own name!'" Then a voice from heaven was heard, saying, "I have honored my name already, and I will honor it once more." The people standing around said, "That was a peal of thunder just now." "No," said others, "it was an angel speaking to this man!" "It was not on my account that the voice came," said Jesus, "but on your account. Soon will come the hour when God will judge this world, and the prince of evil, who rules this world, shall be driven away." Then Jesus thought of his coming death on the cross; what it was to bring to the world; how that everywhere after his death men should believe on him as their Lord and Saviour; not only Jews, but Greeks, and people of every land; and he said: "And when I am lifted up from the earth, I will draw all men to me." Soon after this Jesus walked out of the Temple, never again to set his foot within it. Jesus Telling of Dark Days to Come CHAPTER 81 JESUS WALKED across the Court of the Gentiles or Strangers, the large outer court of the Temple, toward the Mount of Olives. On that side of the court stood Solomon's Porch, a double row of pillars, having a roof above to shield it from the sun. Under this porch they stepped down a marble staircase to pass out of the Temple grounds through a gate called "The Golden Gate." As they drew near this gate the disciples called his attention to the great stones in the wall, the pillars and the splendid buildings around. "Are you looking at these stones and buildings?" said Jesus. "I tell you now, that the time is coming, and not far away, when all of these stones shall be torn apart, and of these fine buildings not one stone shall be left standing in its place; all shall be thrown down!" The disciples heard these words with alarm and sadness. They knew that their Lord spoke as a prophet; and whatever he said would be sure to come to pass. But they looked upon Jerusalem as the holy city, and upon the Temple as the house of God. To them, the fall of the city and the Temple seemed like the end of the whole world. They walked after Jesus in silence across the valley of the brook Kedron and up the steep sides of the Mount of Olives. On its top they sat down to rest, and looked over the valley at the city, its towers and roofs rising in their view. While they were sitting on the mountain, Peter and Andrew, with the brothers James and John, came to Jesus, and said to him: "Tell us, Master, what your words mean, and when these terrible things will come to pass? Are you going away, and then coming back again? How may we know when to look for you?" Then, sitting on the mountain, with the twelve disciples around him, Jesus gave a long talk about the things that were to come. He began by warning them against following after men claiming to be Christ, the King of Israel. "Take care," he said, "that no one lead you astray. For many will come saying, 'I am Christ, the King of Israel,' and they will lead away many people. But do not follow any of these false Christs. "You will hear of wars that have come, and reports of wars that are coming; but do not be frightened. These must come, but they are not the end. Nation shall make war with nation, and kingdom against kingdom; and you shall hear of earthquakes in many places; and times shall come when there will be no bread for the hungry to eat. But all these are only the beginnings of the trouble; and the worst is yet to come. [Illustration: The Golden Gate, on east of the Temple Area, Jerusalem (now closed)] "But before these take place there are some other sufferings that you must meet because you are my disciples. Enemies will rise up against you. You shall be brought before councils and courts to be tried; you shall be seized and beaten in the churches of the Jews; you shall stand before governors and kings to give account for yourselves as my followers. But when they seize you and bring you to be tried, do not be anxious as to what you shall speak; for the right words shall be given you in that hour of trial. It will not be you that speak, but the Spirit of God that speaks through you. "In those times of trial fathers and mothers shall turn against their children, and brothers shall give up brothers who believe in me. Some of you shall be put to death in those days. And all men shall hate you because you are my disciples. But if you are faithful to the end, even to death, you shall be saved to everlasting life." [Illustration: The Mount of Olives from Gethsemane] Then Jesus told of the terrible times that were coming to Jerusalem and the land of the Jews. He said: "When you see great armies encamped on these hills all around Jerusalem, then know that the time has come for the city and the Temple to be destroyed. Let this be a sign for everyone in Judea to hide among the mountains. If a man at that time is on the roof of his house, let him not go down to take anything out of his house; nor a man in the field go home after his cloak; but hasten away just as he is, with the clothes that are upon his back, and find a safe hiding-place. "If anyone tells you in such times as those, 'Here is Christ!' or 'There he is!' do not believe it, for false Christs will come and false prophets will appear; and they will show signs and wonders, so as to lead astray even some of God's own people. I tell you truly that many who are now living shall see all these things come to pass." Jesus had already told his disciples that he was soon going away to leave them, but in his own time he would come again. He now spoke about his "coming again." "As to the coming of the Son of Man, no one knows about that day or hour; no man knows when it will be, nor the angels, nor even the Son himself, but only the Father. It will be then as it was in the days of Noah; they went on eating and drinking, marrying and being married, until the day Noah went into the ark; and they took no notice until the flood came and swept them all away. "So will it be when the Son of Man comes. Then there will be two men working together in the field; one shall be taken and the other left. Two women will be grinding grain with the hand mill; one shall be taken and the other left. Keep on the watch then, for you never know what day the Lord will come. Be sure of this, if the owner of the house had known at what time in the night the thief would come, he would have been on the watch for him, and would never have allowed his house to be broken into. So be ready all the time, for when you least expect him, the Son of Man will come." The Parable of the Ten Bridesmaids CHAPTER 82 AT THE CLOSE of a long talk with the disciples, on the Mount of Olives, Jesus gave three parables. The first parable was to show that his followers must watch and be ready for his sudden coming. It is "The Parable of the Ten Bridesmaids." "The coming of the Lord in his kingdom," said Jesus, "will be as when ten girls, the bridesmaids at a wedding, took their lamps and went out to meet the bridegroom with his friends, and go with them to the house of the bride. Five of these girls were foolish and thoughtless, and five of them were wise. The foolish young women brought their lamps, but never thought that they would need more oil to fill their lamps again. But each of the five wise girls carried a small flask of oil to refill her lamp when needed. [Illustration: Oriental lamp] "As the bridegroom, the young man who was to be married, was late in coming, the ten bridesmaids grew sleepy, and finally all fell asleep. They slept until midnight, when suddenly they were awakened by the shout, 'Here comes the bridegroom! Come out to meet him!' "Then all the girls got up and began trimming their lamps. The careless, foolish ones said to the wise and thoughtful ones: "'Come, let us have some of your oil. Our lamps are going out.' "But the wise bridesmaids answered them, 'No, each one of us has brought just enough oil for her own lamp. If we should divide our oil with you, then none of us would have enough to keep her lamp burning and we should all be in the dark together. You must go to the store and buy for yourselves!' [Illustration: The coming of the bridegroom] "So, in the middle of the night, while the bridegroom was coming, those foolish women had to go to the town, and wake up the oil-sellers and buy more oil. While they were on their way buying oil, the bridegroom and his party came; and the bridesmaids who were ready went with them to the marriage-supper. When they were all inside the room, the door was shut to keep out strangers who had no right to enter. "After a time, the rest of the bridesmaids came and found the door shut. They called out to the bridegroom: "'Oh, sir, oh, sir! Please open the door for us!' "But he answered them, 'I tell you, I do not know who you are!' "So," said Jesus, "I say to you, keep on the watch, and be ready at all times, for you do not know either the day or the hour when your Lord will come." [Illustration: Watch-tower] The Parable of the Talents CHAPTER 83 THE SECOND of the three parables with which Jesus closed his long talk to his disciples on the Mount of Olives was "The Parable of the Talents." In some parts it was like "The Parable of the Pounds," given to the crowd at Jericho only a week before, but in other parts it was different. In that parable, there was a king, going to a distant city to have a kingdom given to him. In this parable, it was a rich man going on a long journey. In the parable of the Pounds, all the servants began with the same amount of money; in this parable, they received different amounts, one of them five times as much as another received. In the parable of the Pounds, one gained ten times, the other five times what had been given to him; and they obtained different rewards, one the ruler over ten cities, another over five. But in the parable of the Talents, each faithful servant doubled what he had received, and both had the same reward. But we will give the parable of the Talents, and you can see how it differs from the parable of the Pounds. Jesus said: "When the Son of Man comes, it will be as when a man returned from his journey into a far country. Before starting out upon his journey, this man called together his servants and gave his money into their charge. To one he gave five talents, to another two, and to another one. Each talent was worth about two thousand dollars, so that the first servant had ten thousand dollars, the second four thousand dollars, and the third two thousand dollars. To each man was given as much as his master thought that he was able to take care of. They were to use the money and gain with it until their master should come home again; and then bring it with their gains to him. After dividing his money, the man went away. "At once the servant who had the five talents or ten thousand dollars, went to trade with his money, and made with it ten thousand dollars more, or twenty thousand dollars in all. The second servant, who had two talents or four thousand dollars, also used his money carefully, and doubled it, making eight thousand dollars. But the third servant, to whom had been given one talent, or two thousand dollars, instead of making use of his master's money, went away and dug a hole in the ground, and put the talent into the hole and left it there. "After a long time the master of the servants came home again, and called for his servants, to see what each had gained. The one who had received the five talents came with bags of gold in his arms. He said: "'My lord, you gave me ten thousand dollars. Here they are, and ten thousand dollars more, which I have gained with your money.' "'Well done, you good servant!' said his master. 'You have done well in small things; now I will give you great things; come and share your master's feast!' "Then came the second servant, to whom had been given two talents. "'My lord,' said he, 'you trusted me with four thousand dollars. See, here it is with four thousand dollars more that I have gained for you!' "'Well done, you good servant,' said his master. 'You too have done well in small things; now I will give you great things; come and share the feast with me!' "Then came the servant to whom had been given one talent, two thousand dollars. In his hand was the same bag of gold that he had received, and no more. "'Sir,' he said, 'I knew that you were a hard man, reaping where you never sowed, and taking grain that you did not harvest. So I was afraid, and hid your money in the ground. Look, here is what belongs to you.' "'You lazy, worthless servant!' said his master. 'You knew, did you, that I reap where I did not sow, and that I take grain that I did not harvest? If you knew that I am such a man as that, you should have put my money into the savings bank; and then at least I might have had my own money with some gain added to it. [Illustration: "You lazy, worthless servant!" said his master] "'Therefore,' the master went on, 'take away the talent from this man, and give it to the one who has brought me the ten talents, the twenty thousand dollars; for that shows that he is fitted to take care of it. For to every one that has, more shall be given and still more. But from him that does not have, even that which he has shall be taken away. "'And as for that good-for-nothing servant, turn him out of doors from the feast, into the darkness outside; there those who cannot come into the feast shall wail and gnash their teeth.'" From this parable, as well as the parable of the Pounds, it is plain that by "every one who has," the Lord meant "every one who cares for and makes use of what he has"; and by "him who has not" he meant "the one who makes no use of what he has." Whoever uses rightly what he has, whether money, or knowledge, or powers of mind, or the chance to do good, will find more and more of it; and whoever neglects what he has will surely lose it. [Illustration: Flagellum or scourge] The Last Great Day CHAPTER 84 AFTER THE two parables of "The Bridesmaids" and "The Talents," Jesus still with his disciples on the Mount of Olives, gave one more parable; a picture of "The Last Great Day." He said: "When the Son of Man shall come again to earth, in all his glory as King, and with him all the angels of God, then he will take his seat upon his royal throne; and before him shall be gathered all the people of the world to be judged. At that time he will send out his angels and they shall divide the great multitude into two parts, as a shepherd divides his flock, putting the sheep on his right hand and the goats on his left. Then the King shall say to those on his right hand: "'Come, you who are blessed by my Father. Come, and take the kingdom made ready for you ever since the beginning of the world. For, when I was hungry, you gave me food; when I was thirsty, you gave me drink; when I was a stranger, you opened your doors and took me into your homes; when I had no clothes, you gave me clothing; when I was sick, you cared for me; when I was in prison, you came to visit me.' "Then the good will answer, 'When was it that we found you hungry and gave you food? Or thirsty and gave you drink? When did we see you a stranger, and took you into our homes? Or without clothes, and gave you clothing? When did we see you sick, or in prison, and went to visit you?' "And the King will answer them, 'I tell you, as often as you did any of these things to one of these my brothers who believe in me, even the least of them, you did it to me.' "Then the King will turn to those on his left hand, and will say to them: "'Go away from me, you whom God has cursed, to the everlasting fires which have been kindled for the Devil and his angels, the wicked spirits. There shall be your home forever! For I was hungry, but you never gave me food; I was thirsty, but you never gave me drink; I was a stranger, but you never opened your doors to me; I was in need of clothes, but you never gave me any; I was sick and in prison, but you never cared for me.' "Then these will answer him: "'Lord, when did we ever see you hungry, or thirsty, or a stranger, or without clothing, or sick, or in prison, and did not help you?' "And he shall answer them, 'In very truth I say to you, that as often as you did not help in their need these my brothers who believe in me, even the very least of them, you did not help me.' So these will go away to suffer punishment forever; but those who have done the right will go to life everlasting." It was now late on Tuesday afternoon, and Jesus with his disciples went down the Mount of Olives to Bethany. On the way he said to them: "You know that two days from now is the Feast of the Passover. On that day the Son of Man will be given up to his enemies; and they shall put him to death upon the cross." But, although he had spoken of this many times, even now they could not believe it. They went together to Bethany, to the home of Martha and Mary and Lazarus. [Illustration: "You, my Lord, shall never wash my feet!" said Peter. "Unless I wash you," answered Jesus, "you are not one of mine."] Washing the Disciples' Feet CHAPTER 85 TUESDAY HAD been a busy day for Jesus, as we have already seen; but Wednesday must have been a quiet day, for none of the four gospels tells us of any events taking place on that day. Jesus knew that in two days more his sufferings were to begin, and he needed Wednesday, his last full day, for rest and for talking with his Father in heaven. On Wednesday, therefore, Jesus was alone with God, not talking much with his disciples. On Thursday evening was to be held by all the Jews the great Feast of the Passover. This kept in mind the day, more than a thousand years before, when the Israelites went out of Egypt and became a free people. At that time each Israelite family in Egypt killed a lamb, roasted it, and ate it, their last meal in Egypt; and with it they ate "unleavened bread," that is, bread made without yeast; somewhat like soda biscuit. In memory of that day, the families of Israel went up to Jerusalem every year in the spring and ate a dinner of roasted lamb with unleavened bread, which they called "The Feast of the Passover," because on that night in Egypt the angel of death "passed over" the homes of the Israelites, while he brought death to the families of Egypt. On Thursday morning, Peter and John came to Jesus in Bethany and said: "Master, where shall we make ready the passover feast for you?" "Go into the city," answered Jesus, "and you will meet a man carrying a jar of water; follow him, and into whatever house he goes, say to the man living there, 'The Teacher says, I must eat the passover at your house tonight with my disciples--where is my room?' And this man will show you a large room upstairs; there make ready all things for the supper." Peter and John went from Bethany into the city as they were told; they met the man with the water jar and followed him to the house. There they found the owner of the house, and spoke to him as Jesus had said. This man may have been a follower of Jesus, glad to have his Master take a meal at his house. He led Peter and John upstairs into a large room, with tables standing, and around them couches for the guests. Then the two disciples went into the market and bought a lamb. This they carried upon their shoulders to the Temple. There it was killed and its blood was poured out at the foot of the great altar. The lamb was then roasted in an oven; and after sunset it was brought to the supper room and placed upon the table. Beside it were the flat biscuits of unleavened bread, and also some vegetables of a slightly bitter taste, to be eaten with the lamb. Late on Thursday afternoon Jesus and the rest of his disciples left Bethany. Jesus alone knew that this was his last farewell to that home and its loving people; but he said nothing, not wishing to alarm them. Among his followers on that afternoon was Judas Iscariot, knowing that he had sold his Master to his enemies, and that the thirty silver pieces were even then in his money bag. Jesus knew it, too, but he said not a word of it, either to Judas or the disciples. They went around the Mount of Olives, crossed the valley, and came through one of the gates into the city; then found their way among the streets on Mount Zion to the house where in the upper room the supper was all ready for them. Here, as many times before, arose a little quarrel over the question as to which of the twelve disciples should sit at the guest table with Jesus, for that table was the place of honor. Jesus stopped the dispute by saying to them what he had said before: "He that would be greatest among you, let him take the lowest place; and he who would be chief, let him become your servant. But there is no need for you to be anxious about places. You have stood by me through all my trials, and I will give you all high places in my kingdom, for you shall sit on twelve thrones, each of you over one of the tribes of Israel." But Jesus in teaching his disciples lowliness of mind and unselfishness of spirit, did not stop with words. He taught them by an act which made them wonder. Just before the supper, he rose from the couch where he was lying, took off his robe and outer garments, then tied a towel around his waist, poured water into a basin, and began to wash the feet of the disciples as they were reclining around the tables, their heads toward the tables, their feet away from them. Jesus came first to Simon Peter, and stood at his feet, holding the basin of water. Peter looked up at him, and saw that the Saviour was preparing to wash his feet. "What, Master!" said Peter. "Are you going to wash my feet?" "You do not understand now what this means," said Jesus, "but you will learn after a time." "You, my Lord, shall never wash my feet!" said Peter. "Unless I wash you," answered Jesus, "you are not one of mine." "Then, Master," said Peter, "if that be so, wash not only my feet, but my hands and my head!" "He who has already bathed," said Jesus, "is clean, and needs only to wash his feet. And you are clean--but not every one of you." In those words "not every one of you," he was thinking of Judas, the traitor, who was there with the others. So Jesus washed Peter's feet and wiped them dry with the towel around his waist; and he went around the couches, washing the feet of every disciple, even the feet of wicked Judas. When he had finished, he took off the towel, and put on his outer clothes, and took again his place at the table. "Do you understand the meaning of what I have done to you?" said Jesus. "You call me your Teacher and your Lord, and you are right, for I am both Teacher and Lord. Well, if I, who am your Teacher and your Lord, have washed your feet, you ought to wash each other's feet. I have set you an example, that you should do what I have done to you. I tell you truly, a servant is not greater than his master, nor is a messenger greater than the one who sends him. If you know all this, you are happy if you do them." [Illustration: After taking the piece of bread, Judas at once went out into the night] Then Jesus went on, saying, "When I say 'you' I do not mean all of you; for there is one of you eating with me now who will give me up to my enemies. Truly, truly, I tell you one of you shall betray me!" [Illustration: Then Jesus took up the cup and blessed it, and gave it also to his disciples.] As Jesus said this his face showed that he was in deep trouble. The disciples looked at each other, not knowing of whom Jesus was speaking. They too were filled with sorrow, and began to say to him, all around the table, "Is it I, Lord?" "One of you that puts his hand into the same dish with me," answered Jesus, "is the traitor. The Son of Man goes from earth, as has been written of him in the Scripture, but woe, woe to that man who betrays his Lord! It would have been well for that man if he had never been born!" Next to Jesus at the table was reclining one of the disciples, John, whom Jesus loved greatly. Simon Peter made signs to John, which meant, "Find out who it is that he is speaking of." So John leaned back on Jesus' shoulder and whispered: "Who is it, Master?" "It is the one," answered Jesus, "to whom I shall hand this piece of bread, after dipping it in the dish." Jesus dipped the bread into the dish holding the roasted lamb, and handed it to Judas Iscariot. At that moment the spirit of evil went fully into the heart of Judas. Jesus said to him: "What you are going to do, do at once." But no one at the table understood what these words meant. As Judas kept the purse for the company, they thought that Jesus was telling him to buy some things for the feast, or perhaps to give some money to the poor. After taking the piece of bread, Judas at once went out into the night. The Lord's Supper CHAPTER 86 WHILE THEY were eating the passover meal, Jesus took a loaf of bread, and holding it in his hand, with his eyes lifted to heaven, spoke a blessing upon it. Then he broke it and gave a piece of it to each of the disciples. As he gave it to them, he said: "Take this, and eat it; this means my body which is given for you." Then he took a cup of the wine, and blessed it, and gave this also to his disciples, saying: "Drink from this, all of you; this means my blood, the blood of the new covenant, which is poured out for many, to take away their sins. I tell you, from this time I will never again drink the juice of the grape, until that day when I drink it new with you, in the kingdom of my Father." In the old times, an agreement or promise was called "a covenant," and when it was made a lamb or a goat was killed for an offering, and laid upon the altar to be burned. The blood of the offering was poured out on the altar; and this was called "the blood of the covenant." Jesus meant to tell his disciples that soon his blood would be poured forth as the sign of God's promise to take away sin from those who believed in him. You have seen at some services in the church a table covered with a white cloth. When the cloth has been taken away, you have seen plates of bread and cups of wine. The minister gives the bread to the people, and repeats the words of Jesus, "Take, eat; this is my body which is given for you." And afterward as the wine is taken, he says, "Drink ye all of this; for this is my blood shed for you." This service is called "The Lord's Supper," and it is held to keep in our minds the thought of the last meal that Jesus ate with his disciples. "My dear children," said Jesus after the supper, "I am to be with you only a little longer; then you will look for me, and as I told the Jews I tell you now, where I am going you cannot come. I give you a new commandment, to love one another. As I have loved you, you are to love each other. By this every one will know that you are my disciples, by your loving each other." "Lord," said Simon Peter, "where are you going?" "I am going," answered Jesus, "where you cannot follow me now; but you shall follow me after a time." "Why cannot I follow you now, Master?" asked Peter. "I am ready to lay down my life and die for you!" "Will you lay down your life for me?" said Jesus. "I tell you truly, Peter, before the cock crows twice tomorrow morning you will three times declare that you have never known me." But Peter again said most earnestly, "If I must die with you, I will never deny you." And all the disciples who were present said with Peter that they would never forsake their Lord, even unto death. The Vine and the Branches CHAPTER 87 JESUS SAW that his disciples were greatly disturbed at his words, as he spoke of going away to some place where they could not go with him, and leaving them alone among people who were his enemies; especially as he told Peter that he would soon disown his Master, and that all the rest of the disciples should leave him to suffer alone. Jesus tried to comfort them in their fears and their sorrows. "Do not be troubled in your hearts," he said to them; "trust in God, and trust in me, and in my words. In my Father's dwelling-place there are many homes. I am going to prepare a place for you; and when I have prepared it, I will come back and take you to be with me there, so that you may be where I am. And you know the way to the place where I am going." "Master," said Thomas, "we do not know where you are going; and how then are we to know the way?" "I am the way, and the truth, and the life," answered Jesus. "No one ever comes to the Father in any way except through me. If you knew me, you would know my Father also. You know him now, and have seen him; for you have seen me." "Master," said Philip, "let us see the Father; that is all that we want." "Have I been with you all this time, Philip," answered Jesus, "and yet you do not know me? Whoever has seen me has seen the Father. What do you mean by saying, 'Let us see the Father'? Do you not believe that the Father and I are one, that I am in the Father and the Father in me? The words that I speak are my Father's words; and the works that I do are my Father's works. I tell you truly, that whoever believes in me shall do the very works that I do; and he shall do even greater works than these. I am going to the Father, and whatever you ask the Father in my name that I will do, that the Father may be honored in the Son. If you ask anything in my name, I will do it. "If you love me," Jesus went on, "you will do whatever I have told you to do; and I will ask the Father to give you another Helper to be with you always. That Helper is the Spirit of Truth. The people of this world cannot have the Spirit, because they do not see him nor know him. But you know him, because he is always with you, and is within you. I will not leave you alone in your sorrow; I am coming to you. A little while longer, and the world will see me no more; but you will see me, for I am living, and you will be living, too. He who has my commands and keeps them in his heart is the one who loves me; and he who loves me will be loved by my Father; and I will love him and I will make myself known to him." Then said one of the disciples named Judas--not Judas Iscariot the traitor (he had gone out), but another Judas, the brother of James--"How is it, Lord, that you are to make yourself known to us and not to the world?" "If any one loves me," answered Jesus, "he will obey my word; and my Father will love him; and we will come to him and make our home with him. He who does not love me will not obey my words; and the word to which you are listening is not my own word, but the word of the Father who sent me. I have told you all this while I am still with you, but the Helper, the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send to you to take my place, he will teach you all that you need to know and he will bring to your mind all that I have said to you. Peace be with you! My own peace I give you. I do not give my peace to you as the world gives its 'peace.' Do not let your hearts be troubled; do not be afraid. "You heard me say that I was going away and soon afterward coming back to you. If you loved me fully, you would be glad that I am going to the Father, for the Father is greater than I am. I have told you all this--that I am going away--before it happens, so that when it does happen, as it will very soon, you may still believe in me, and believe that I am coming again." [Illustration: "I am the vine, and you are the branches"] Then Jesus gave to his disciples another parable, "The Vine and the Branches." He said: "I am the true vine, and my Father is the vine-grower, the Master of the vineyard. You, my disciples, and all who believe in me, are the branches of the vine. If the vine-grower finds on his vine any branches that bear no fruit, he cuts them off, for they are of no use. If he finds branches that bear fruit, he trims them and cleans them, so that they may bear better fruit. You are already clean through the word that I have spoken to you. Keep united to me, the vine, and I will keep united to you. Just as a branch cannot bear fruit by itself when separate from the vine, no more can you bear fruit unless you stay united to me. "Remember, I am the vine, and you are the branches. He who keeps himself in union with me, and keeps me in union with himself bears rich fruit. But apart from me you can do nothing. If any one does not stay united to me, he is thrown away, just as a branch would be, and he withers up; then the worthless, withered branches are gathered and thrown into the fire and are burned. "If you stay united to me, and my teaching stays in your hearts, you may ask whatever you wish, and it shall be yours. As you bear rich fruit and prove yourselves my disciples, my Father is honored. As my Father has loved me, so I have loved you; stay in my love. If you keep my commands in your hearts, you will stay in my love, just as I have kept my Father's commands in my heart and dwell in his love." The Last Words of Jesus to His Disciples CHAPTER 88 JESUS WENT on giving his last talk with his disciples, in the room after the supper. Among other things, he said: "This is my last command to you. Love one another as I have loved you. No one can give greater proof of love than by laying down his life for his friends. You are my friends if you do what I command you. I do not any more call you 'servants'; for a servant does not know what his master is doing; but I have called you 'friends,' for all things that I have learned from my Father I have told you. It was not you who chose me, but I have chosen you, and appointed you to go and bear fruit that shall last, so that the Father may give you whatever you ask in my name. "This is what I command you, to love one another. If the world hates you, remember that it hated me first. If you belonged to the world, the world would love its own; but because you do not belong to the world, since I have chosen you out of the world, the world hates you. Remember what I said to you, 'A servant is not greater than his master.' If they have tried to do me harm, they will try to do you harm too. If they hold to my word, they will hold to yours also. It is written in the Holy Book, 'They hated me without any cause,' and that word has come true in me; for they have indeed hated me when there was no cause for it. But when that Helper comes, he whom I will send to you--the Spirit of Truth who comes from the Father--he will speak for me; yes, and you shall speak for me, for you have been with me from the very first. "I have said these things to you now, so that in the times to come, knowing these things you will not be discouraged nor fail. They will put you out of their churches; yes, there is coming a time when if anyone kills you he will think that he is pleasing God. They will do these things because they have not really known my Father, nor known me. But I am telling you of these things now, that when the time comes, and you find the rulers and the people your enemies, you will remember I told you, and will be ready for these things. [Illustration: In a little while your sorrow shall be turned into joy, and your joy shall never be taken away from you] "I am telling you the truth; it is best for you that I go away; for if I do not leave you, that Helper, the Spirit of God, will not come to you; but if I go away, I will send him to you. When he the Spirit of Truth comes, he will lead you into all truth; and he will make known to you what is to come. In a little while you will not see me any longer; then after another little while you will see me again." These words seemed to the disciples hard to understand. They said to each other: "What does he mean by telling us, 'In a little while you will not see me; then after another little while you will see me'; and 'I am going to the Father'? What does he mean by 'a little while'?" Jesus knew that they wanted to ask him; and he said to them, "Are you trying to find out what I meant in saying 'a little while and ye shall not see me, and then a little while and ye shall see me'? I tell you truly, that in a very little while you will be weeping and sorrowing, while the world around you will be glad. Then in a little while again, your sorrow shall be turned into joy, for you shall see me again, and your joy shall never be taken away from you." Jesus meant them to understand that in a few hours he would be taken from them and placed upon the cross to die; that he would be buried, and all these things should give them pain and sorrow. But in a few days he would rise again from the grave, and then they would be glad and happy, with a happiness that should never pass away, even though he should again, after that, leave them and go to the Father. After saying these things, Jesus lifted up his hands to God and prayed. In his prayer he gave thanks to God that he had been able to finish the work that had been given him to do. He prayed also for his disciples, that they might all be one in heart, and love each other, and that they might be kept faithful to the end. He prayed, too, not only for those his disciples, but for all who through their words should come to believe in him as the Saviour of the world; that they all might be of one heart, loving each other; one with Jesus, and one with his Father. When Jesus had finished his prayer, they all sang a hymn together, and went out of the supper room into the silent streets of the city. They walked toward the Mount of Olives, as if expecting to return to Bethany, the place from which they had come in the afternoon. With the disciples, as they went out of the house, was a young man whose name was John Mark. He may have been the son of the man at whose house Jesus and his disciples had eaten the supper. If that be so, then his mother's name was Mary, just like the name of Jesus' mother, though she was not the same woman. Long afterward, this John Mark wrote one of the four gospels, telling of the life of Jesus, "The Gospel of Mark." [Illustration: Olive tree and oil press] [Illustration: Jesus, leaving his three disciples to watch at the entrance to the Garden of Gethsemane, went farther inside to pray.] In the Garden of Gethsemane CHAPTER 89 DURING THE week of the Passover, while the city of Jerusalem held three or four times as many people as usual, the gates in its walls were kept open day and night, although during most of the year they were closed at sunset. It was near midnight on Thursday when Jesus and his disciples, coming from the supper room, passed through a gate in the eastern wall just north of the Temple. They went down into the valley of the brook Kedron, and crossed the brook upon a bridge. On the further side of the valley, they came to an orchard of olive trees, called the Garden of Gethsemane. Jesus had often visited this garden, for it was a quiet place; and he loved to pray under the shadow of its olive trees. The orchard had a wall around it; and at its gate Jesus said to his disciples: "Sit here, while I go and pray inside the garden." He took with him three of his disciples, Simon Peter, James, and John his brother, and with these three went into the garden. The disciples began to notice that their Master was now showing the signs of deep sorrow, as if full of grief. He said to the three disciples: "My heart is sad; sad even to death; stay here and watch." Then he went forward a little way, and fell with his face upon the earth, and prayed to the Father: "Oh, my Father! My Father!" he cried. "Thou canst do anything! Take this cup away from me, I pray! Yet, I do not ask to have my own will, but only what is thy will." "The cup" of which Jesus spoke was the terrible suffering that was very soon to come upon him. In those last moments, as he saw his trial and death drawing near like a black cloud, his spirit shrank. So earnest was his prayer, that the sweat stood upon his face in drops of blood. Just then came an angel from heaven, standing by his side to cheer and help him. [Illustration: Ancient olive tree, in the garden of Gethsemane] He rose up, and walked to the place where he had left the three disciples. They had fallen asleep, being overcome with the trouble which they felt in knowing that soon they were to lose their Master. Jesus spoke to Peter, "Simon, are you sleeping? Could you not watch with me for a single hour? Watch and pray, all of you, that you may be kept from being tempted. I know that your spirit is willing, but your bodies are weak." Again he went away, and prayed in the same words: "My Father! My Father! Thou canst do anything! Take this cup away from me! Yet, I would not have my own will, but thy will." Coming back, he found them again asleep, for their eyes were heavy and they could not keep them open. When awaked, they did not know what to say to him, for they were ashamed of being found asleep a second time. Jesus left them, and prayed for the third time. In this prayer he said: "Oh, my Father, if this cup cannot be taken away; if I must drink it, then thy will be done!" He went once more to the three disciples, and found them asleep, just as before. He now said to them: "You may as well sleep on now, and take your rest; for it is too late for you to help me. My time has come! The Son of Man has been given into the hands of wicked men. Come, get up, here is the traitor close at hand!" And at that very instant, while he was speaking these words, the traitor, Judas Iscariot, burst into the garden, with a crowd of men, armed with swords and clubs. These men had been sent by the chief priests and the rulers to seize Jesus. Spies had been watching near the house while Jesus was talking after the supper, and others watching at the gate when Jesus passed out of it. Word had been sent to the chief priests that Jesus was in the garden, and while he was praying to his Father, these men, led by Judas Iscariot, were hurrying to that place to make Jesus their prisoner. The men who had come to seize Jesus were not sure that in the night time, even though the full moon was shining, they would know him among his disciples. They said to Judas: "How can we tell in the dark, under the trees, who is the one for us to take hold of as prisoner?" "You watch me," said Judas, "and when I go up and kiss a man, seize him, for that one whom I shall kiss will be the man you are looking for." [Illustration: Judas Iscariot, burst into the garden with a crowd of men, armed with swords and clubs.] So Judas went into the garden, where by this time all the other disciples were gathered around Jesus. He came rushing up, saying "Master! Master!" and kissed him, just though he were glad to see him. "Judas," said Jesus, "do you betray the Son of Man with a kiss?" Then he went forward to the band of men who were standing with their lanterns and torches, their swords and spears. "For whom are you looking?" he said to these men. "For Jesus of Nazareth," they answered him. "I am he," said Jesus. At the instant when he said this, they went backward, as if frightened, and fell upon their faces on the ground. Again, after a moment, he asked them: "For whom are you looking?" And again they answered, "Jesus of Nazareth." "I have already told you," said Jesus, "that I am he. If you are looking for me, then let these men go away." For even in that hour Jesus was thinking not of his own safety, but of his disciples. The delay of a few moments gave to the disciples some courage. They began asking: "Master, shall we strike with the sword?" Simon Peter, not waiting for an answer from Jesus, drew a sword which he had brought with him, and with it struck one of the high priest's servants; a man named Malchus, and cut off his right ear; for by this time the band had risen to their feet and were drawing near. Jesus said: "Let me at least do this;" and he touched his ear; and at once his ear was made well again. "Put up your sword," said Jesus to Peter. "Those who take the sword shall die by the sword. Do you not know, that with a word I could call upon my Father, and even now he would send me twelve armies of angels to keep me safely? The cup which my Father has given me, must I not drink it?" Then he turned to the band of men who had come to take him. "Do you come out to arrest me as if I were a robber, with swords and clubs? Day after day I was with you in the Temple, and you did not lay your hands upon me. But now your time has come, and the dark Power has its way." Then the disciples, finding that they could do nothing to protect Jesus, ran away and left him alone. The men of the band put chains upon Jesus, and led him away. But John followed the company, and Peter also, anxious to see what would be done with their Lord. The young man John Mark was also following him, when one of the band tried to seize hold of him by his clothes. He left the linen cloth wrapped around him in the hands of the man, and slipped away with only his undergarments upon his body. Jesus Before Annas CHAPTER 90 THE MEN who took Jesus as their prisoner were the policemen of the Temple, led by their chief. With them were some of the priests and officers, and a crowd of the lowest people, who had been gathered from the streets by the rulers. All these formed together a noisy and disorderly mob, dragging Jesus out of the Garden of Gethsemane and into the city on Mount Zion. Two of the disciples, Peter and John, followed, keeping close to the crowd, but outside of it, their hearts filled with alarm for their Master. The Temple policemen brought Jesus, all tied with ropes and chains, to the house on Mount Zion, inside the wall of the city, where lived one of the chief priests named Annas. Annas had once been the high priest, that is, the great priest at the head of all the priests; but the Roman rulers of the land had taken his office away from him, and made Caiaphas, whose wife was the daughter of Annas, high priest in his place. Many of the people believed that the Romans had no right to take his office away from Annas, and still looked upon him as the true and rightful high priest. Annas was a man of great power, feared by many; and therefore the men who had seized Jesus brought him first to the house of Annas. In the house were met a number of the chief rulers and members of the great council of the Jews. Jesus was brought in before them all. Annas asked Jesus to tell him what he had taught, and who were his disciples. Jesus answered him: "My teachings have never been in secret; I have always been open and public in my words. I spoke everywhere in the churches and in the Temple, where the people go to worship. Why do you ask me what I have said? Ask the people who heard me; they know what I said." [Illustration: Priests and officers taking Jesus from the Garden of Gethsemane] As Jesus spoke these words, one of the police officers standing by struck Jesus a hard blow with his hand, saying: "Is that the way that you answer the high priest?" Jesus answered him calmly, "If I have said anything that is not true, prove it; but if I have spoken the truth, why do you strike me?" When Jesus was taken into the house of Annas, John followed the crowd inside, for John knew the high priest, and he was not afraid to go into his house. But Peter stood outside in the street. Then John spoke to the woman who had charge of the door, and asked her to let in the man standing outside, and she opened the door for Peter. The rooms of the house stood around an open court, and Peter stood in the court among the servants and policemen. It was cold, and they had made a charcoal fire in a brazier--that is an iron pan standing upon either three or four legs. Around this fire the people gathered; and Peter stood in the court among them, holding his hands over the fire to warm them. The woman who kept the door looked sharply at Peter, and said: "Are you not one of this man's disciples?" Peter was alone among the enemies of Jesus, for John had gone into the room where Jesus was standing before Annas and the other rulers. Peter felt a sudden fear come over him, and to this woman's question, he answered: "No, I am not!" Poor Peter! Already he had begun to deny his Lord! Annas knew that he had no right to act as judge upon Jesus. All that he could do was to examine Jesus, listen to what he might say, and try to find in his words some ground for his enemies to bring charges against him. So after a little, Annas sent Jesus, all bound as he was, to Caiaphas, who was the high priest by law. [Illustration: Jesus brought for trial before Caiaphas, who in anger tore his clothes and flung up his arms, denouncing Jesus because he declared himself to be the son of God.] Jesus Before Caiaphas CHAPTER 91 THE HIGH PRIEST Caiaphas, before whom Jesus was now brought for a regular trial, had been in office many years. He was a shrewd, sharp man, caring very little about right or wrong, but always ready to do whatever would please the Jewish leaders, without giving offence to the Roman rulers. You remember that after Jesus raised Lazarus to life, and many people were believing in Jesus, it was this Caiaphas who said, "No matter whether Jesus is innocent or guilty, whether he is good or bad, the easiest way for us to avoid trouble is to kill him; and that we must do." That showed the spirit of Caiaphas the high priest. The houses of Annas and Caiaphas were not far apart, and may have been in the same group of buildings on Mount Zion. The officers and policemen took Jesus into the large hall in the high priest's house where all the members of the Jewish council that could be brought together so suddenly were gathered. It was a little after midnight when Jesus was made prisoner in the garden, and it must have been between four and five o'clock on Friday morning when Jesus stood before Caiaphas and the council. Peter had come with the crowd, and was in the court of the high priest's house. John was not there, but had gone to the house in Jerusalem, where Mary the mother of Jesus was staying, to bring to her the terrible news that her Son was in the hands of his enemies, and to try to give her comfort. So again Peter was left alone in the midst of a throng opposed to Jesus. By the law of the Jews, no one could be put to death unless two persons could be found to tell of a wicked act that they had seen him do, or wicked words that they had heard him speak; and also, the accounts of these two witnesses must agree. The rulers looked for witnesses to come and speak against Jesus of what they had seen and heard. They did not care whether these witnesses speaking against Jesus spoke the truth or spoke lies; all they wanted was to have them agree in their words. There were many who spoke falsely against Jesus, but what they said did not agree. After a time two men stood up, and said: "We ourselves heard this man say in the Temple, 'I will destroy this Temple made by the hands of men, and in three days I will build another made without hands.'" But even those witnesses did not agree in their account of what Jesus had said. You remember, that three years before, in the Temple, Jesus had said, "Destroy this temple and in three days I will raise it up." But he was speaking not of the Temple of the Jews, but of himself as the temple of the Lord, and of his own death and rising from the tomb. You see how these men changed the words of Jesus in the telling of them. Now, the Jews had agreed that for any man to speak of destroying the house of God was very wicked; and that whoever should speak of such a thing must be put to death. So in the words of these two men, even though they did not agree, and were false, Caiaphas and the council saw a chance to carry out their purpose of putting Jesus to death. The high priest Caiaphas stood up, and said to Jesus in a very loud and fierce manner: "What have you to say of the things spoken by these witnesses? Have you no answer to give?" But Jesus stood silent and would not speak a word. He knew that speaking would not help him, for their minds were made up to kill him, whatever he might say. After a moment of waiting Caiaphas spoke again. [Illustration: Judas filled with remorse returns the thirty pieces of silver] "Are you the Christ," he asked, "the Son of that Blessed One?" Then Jesus spoke out, once for all: "I am," he answered, "and what is more, you will all see the Son of Man sitting on the right hand of Almighty God, and coming in the clouds of heaven!" At this the high priest became furious. In his anger he tore his clothes, and flung up his arms and cried: "What awful, awful words!" shouted the high priest. "Why this man makes himself equal to Almighty God! We need no more witnesses; he has spoken his own doom. What shall be done to a man who calls himself God?" Then with one voice all the council said, "He deserves to die," and the sentence of death upon Jesus was given. Then they began to spit in his face and to strike him. They threw a covering over his face, and after striking him, would say, "Are you a prophet? then tell who it was that struck you!" [Illustration: The potter's field] All this time Peter was in the court of the building, and through the open door he could see Jesus standing in the inner room. One of the young women servants looked closely at Peter, and finally said: "You were one of those with Jesus, the Nazarene!" "I don't know what you are talking about," said Peter in answer; and he went away from the group into the hall outside. Just then the cock crew, and Peter heard it. [Illustration: As Peter was speaking, which was his third denial of his Master, the cock crew for the second time. At that moment Jesus turned and looked on Peter, who instantly repented and went out and wept bitter tears.] Again the woman who had noticed him began to tell those standing near, "That fellow is one of them!" But he denied it again. After a little another man said to Peter: "You surely are one of this fellow's men! Why, your very accent shows that you come from Galilee! You speak your words like a Galilean!" Then Peter began to curse and to swear; and he said, "I don't know the man you are talking about, and have never seen him!" As Peter was speaking, the cock crew for the second time. And at that moment the Lord Jesus in the inner room turned and looked on Peter, standing outside the open door. Then all at once flashed upon Peter's mind what his Lord had said on the evening before, "Before the cock crows twice tomorrow morning you will three times deny that you have ever known me." And Peter went away, and as he thought upon it all, he was full of sorrow and wept bitter tears. But Simon Peter was not the only man in trouble that morning. There was one whose trouble was far deeper. That man was Judas Iscariot, who had sold his Lord for money. When he found that the chief priests and the council had given sentence of death upon Jesus, Judas saw how wicked he had been, and that through his guilty act, Jesus was to be slain. He brought back to the Temple the thirty pieces of silver that had been given him, and threw them down upon the floor, saying: "I have done wrong in betraying an innocent man! Take back your money!" "What difference is that to us?" answered the priests. "That is your affair, not ours." Judas went away, and in his sorrow became wild and hung himself. The next day he was found hanging dead. The chief priests did not know what to do with the money that he had brought back. They said: "It would never do to put that money among the gifts of the people to the Temple, for it is the price of blood." They finally decided to take the money; and with it bought a piece of ground as a burial-place for strangers in the city. They bought it of a man who made pots and jars of earthenware; and it was named "The Potter's Field." But by all the people it was called ever after "The Field of Blood." [Illustration: "The Field of Blood." Purchased with money Judas received.] [Illustration: Pilate came down and sat upon his throne as a judge, and said: "What is the charge which you bring against this man?"] Jesus Before the Roman Governor CHAPTER 92 ALTHOUGH the high council of the Jews had given sentence upon Jesus that he should be put to death, they could not kill him without the consent of the Roman governor, Pontius Pilate; for long before this the Romans had taken away from the Jews the right to put any man to death. So, very early in the morning, before sunrise, the chief priests and rulers brought Jesus to the castle where the governor was staying. His home was in the city of Cæsarea, nearly sixty miles away, on the sea-coast; but at the time of the Passover, when the city was crowded with people from every part of the land, he usually came to Jerusalem to see that it was kept quiet and in order; and at this time he stayed in a castle north of the Temple, called "The Castle of Antonia." The Jews had condemned Jesus to die, because, as they claimed, he had said that he was the Son of God; and that claim according to their laws was a high crime, deserving of death. Jesus _was_ the Son of God, and as God's Son they should have honored him and obeyed his teachings. But they knew very well that Pilate would not care for their law, and would not order Jesus put to death merely because Jesus had said that he was the Son of God. So they undertook to find something against Jesus which was contrary to the laws of the Romans; and the charge which they resolved to make was that Jesus had spoken against the Roman rule, and had declared that he himself was the King of the Jews. He was, indeed, a king, but not such a king as would be against the Romans or their government. The Jews came to the castle, and standing outside, called for Pilate to come from the room where he was sleeping, and give judgment upon a law-breaker whom they had brought to him. They hoped that Pilate would do as they wished, without looking closely into the matter. He came down, and sat upon his throne as a judge, and said: "What is the charge which you bring against this man?" "If he were not a wicked man, one who has broken the laws, we would not have brought him to you," they answered. "Well," said Pilate, "if he has broken the laws of the land, take him to your own court and punish him." "We found this man," said the Jewish rulers, "everywhere leading the people away from their rulers. He forbids them to pay the tax to the Roman emperor, Cæsar, telling the people that he is Christ, the King of the Jews. He ought to be put to death for stirring the people up against the government, and we ask you to give sentence against him." Pilate began at once to be very suspicious of these Jewish rulers. He knew that they themselves hated the Roman power, and that they would never wish to have anybody punished for opposing it. He looked at Jesus, standing bound and helpless among them, and he thought that this man could not be a dangerous enemy. Pilate said to them: "Bring this man to me. I wish to speak with him." Jesus was led up to the foot of the steps to Pilate's judgment throne; and Pilate asked him, "Are you the King of the Jews?" Jesus answered the governor, "Do you ask this of your own accord, or did others tell you that I am a king?" [Illustration: Jesus was led to Pilate, who questioned him privately: "Are you the King of the Jews?"] "Do you take me for a Jew?" asked Pilate. "Your own people and the priests have brought you before me, saying that you have claimed to be a king. Now tell me, what have you done?" "My rule as a king does not belong to this world," said Jesus. "If my kingdom were of this world, my men would fight to keep me from being given up to the Jews; but my kingdom is not here on the earth." "Then you are a king!" said Pilate. "You speak the truth, I am a king," said Jesus. "I was born for this: I came into the world for this, that I should speak in behalf of the truth. Every one who is on the side of truth listens to my words." "Truth! What is truth?" said Pilate. Then he went out of the hall and spoke to the Jewish rulers: "I do not find anything wrong in this man." This decision of Pilate made the Jews very angry, for they had hoped that he would approve their sentence without asking many questions; and now they found that he was willing to set Jesus free. Pilate thought that Jesus was a harmless man, perhaps not quite right in his mind in believing that he was a king. But the rulers would not cease their charges against Jesus. They said to Pilate, "This man stirs up the people everywhere, and makes trouble. He began in Galilee; and now he has come here." "What," said Pilate, "does this man come from Galilee? Then he belongs to the rule of King Herod; and Herod is now here in Jerusalem. Take him to Herod, and let Herod decide his case." This Pilate said merely because he wished to avoid deciding it himself. He knew that Jesus had broken no law, and should be set free; but he did not wish to displease the Jewish rulers, and he thought to rid himself of the matter by sending Jesus to be tried before Herod, the ruler of Galilee. Jesus Before Herod CHAPTER 93 HEROD, to whom Jesus had been sent by Pilate, was the ruler of Galilee, the northern part of the land, and of Perea, on the east of the river Jordan. Jesus had lived in Galilee nearly all his life; and lately had been through Perea, preaching, so that Herod had been the ruler over Jesus for years. Herod was not really a king. His title was "Tetrarch," which means, "the ruler of a fourth part of a kingdom"; and he was so called because when his father, Herod the Great, died, he received as his share one-fourth of his father's kingdom. But he was generally called "King Herod," because the people knew that it pleased him to be looked upon as a king, rather than "the quarter of a king." This was the Herod who had caused John the Baptist to be killed, on account of his promise to the young girl who danced at his feast. That shows what sort of a man Herod was--weak of will, fond of pleasure, and caring very little whether his acts were right or wrong. Like thousands of other people, high and low, King Herod had come to Jerusalem to take part in the Feast of the Passover; for Herod was a Jew, and kept the Jewish feasts; while Pontius Pilate, the governor of Judea, was a Roman, and worshipped the idols of Rome. Herod was highly pleased to have Jesus sent to him for trial, partly because Pilate and Herod, rulers of lands next to each other, had not been friendly, and this act, the sending of Jesus for trial, showed that Pilate wished to have Herod as his friend. Also, while Jesus was living in Capernaum and teaching all through Galilee, Herod had heard much about him. You remember that some time before this, when they told King Herod of the many wonderful works of Jesus, how he made the sick well, gave sight to the blind, and even raised the dead, Herod said, "This must be John the Baptist whom I killed, come to life again." Although Herod did not live in Jerusalem, but in Galilee, he owned a fine house in that city, called a palace; and in this palace he stayed while in Jerusalem. Into the great hall of this palace Jesus was brought by the soldiers of Pilate; and the high priest Caiaphas came with them, also many of the Jewish priests and rulers, to speak against Jesus. Herod was very glad to see Jesus, the prophet and wonder-worker of whom he had heard so much. He wished to see Jesus work a miracle, and commanded him to do it, for he supposed that Jesus, being in his power, for life or death, would be very desirous of pleasing him. But as you know, Jesus never worked his miracles merely for people to look at them. He would make the sick people well or give hearing to the deaf, because he pitied them in their trouble; but when Herod spoke to him, calling upon him to do some wonderful work, Jesus stood still, and would do nothing. Herod asked Jesus many questions, but Jesus would not answer them, and remained silent. The king did not know what to do with such a prisoner, who would not speak a word, even to save his life. All this time, while Jesus was silent, the priests and the rulers stood around him, charging Jesus with wickedness of all sorts, disobedience to the laws of the land, and trying to make himself a king in Herod's own country. But Jesus answered nothing to all their charges against him. Herod thought to make sport of Jesus. As they said falsely that Jesus claimed to be "King of the Jews," Herod sent for a splendid mantle, such as kings wore, and had it placed on Jesus. Then they bowed low before him, and called him "king," mocking him as one who pretended to royal power. But in the midst of the crowd of mockers stood Jesus, calm and still, paying no attention and looking as though his thoughts were elsewhere. Herod knew very well that Jesus had done nothing worthy of death; that he was a good man, and harmless. He would not do what the priests and rulers urged him, over and over again, to do, to command that Jesus should be put to death. So, after holding Jesus up to contempt for some time, he sent him back to Pilate, all dressed as Jesus was in the royal robe. [Illustration] Jesus Sentenced to Death CHAPTER 94 WHEN PILATE sent Jesus to King Herod, he felt relieved, for he was unwilling on one hand to order Jesus, an innocent man, to be put to death; and on the other hand, he did not wish to offend the Jewish rulers by setting Jesus free. He thought that he had gotten rid of his difficulties, when suddenly he found Jesus brought back to him, and the priests clamoring as before, that he should be put to death. Pilate very unwillingly sat down again upon his throne, compelled to hold the trial of Jesus once more, and unable to avoid making a decision upon his case. Just as he was about to begin the new trial of Jesus, a message from his wife came to him, which added to his anxiety and his alarm. Pilate's wife sent this word to him: "My husband, I ask you not to allow any harm to come to that good man; for this day I have been very unhappy on account of a dream about him." This message made Pilate all the more desirous not to yield to the Jews and put Jesus to death. He thought of a new plan to save the life of Jesus; and with this in mind he said to the chief priests and the leaders: [Illustration: The soldiers took Jesus into the guard room, tied him to a pillar, and beat him with heavy whips.] "You brought before me this man charged with the crime of trying to lead the people to rise up against the government, and I have looked into his case, and have found the charges false. He has not done the things that you accuse him of; and there is nothing wicked in his acts, so far as I can see. Nor has Herod found any fault with him, for he has sent him back. He has done nothing that demands death. But he deserves some punishment for causing all this excitement and stir. I will order him to be well beaten, and then set free." But with one voice, they all cried out, "Away with this fellow! To the cross with him! Don't release him: release to us Barabbas!" It was a custom that at the Feast of the Passover, as a sign of the gladness of the time, to set free some prisoner, whatever man in prison the people should call for. There was at that time in the prison a man named Barabbas, who had led a party of Jews against the Roman rulers, and in the fight had killed a man. He had been condemned to die, but the people did not think any the less of him because he had fought against the Romans, whom they also hated, and whom they would gladly drive out of the land if they were not afraid of their power. The crowd began calling out to Pilate to do as had been done every year, and set free some prisoner. "Are you willing," asked Pilate "that I should free this man Jesus, the King of the Jews?" But the chief priests and the Jewish rulers went around among the crowd, and persuaded them to ask, not for Jesus, but for Barabbas. And the people shouted out, as if they were all one man: "We will not have this man; we will have Barabbas!" This was not what Pilate had looked for. He had thought that according to the custom of the feast he might set Jesus free and still please the people. He said to the crowd: "What then shall I do with Jesus, the man whom they call Christ?" "Send him to the cross! Let him die on the cross!" they roared with all their might. [Illustration: They put on Jesus a cloak of scarlet and wove together a wreath of thorns and pressed it on his head until the blood streamed out; they beat him with the reed, and in mockery bowed before him saying: "Long live the King of the Jews."] "Why, what wicked thing has he done?" asked Pilate of the crowd. "I find nothing on his part that deserves death. I will have him beaten, and let him go!" Then, at Pilate's command, the soldiers took Jesus into the guard room. They stripped off all his clothes, tied him to one of the pillars, and beat him with heavy whips, which tore into his flesh. To mock him, as one who called himself "King," they put on him a cloak of scarlet color; they wove together a wreath of thorns, and pressed it on his head until the blood streamed out; they placed in his hand a reed, as if it were a scepter held by a king; they fell down on their knees before him, and said to him: "Long live the King of the Jews!" They struck him with their hands, over and over again; they beat him with the reed; and they spat in his face. Pilate thought that if the people could see Jesus as he was, crowned with thorns, and covered with blood, they would feel pity for him, and not call for him to be put to death. He said to the Jews: "I will bring him out for you to see; but understand, I cannot find anything wrong in him." Then they brought Jesus out on the steps of the palace. His face was stained with blood; on his head was the wreath of thorns; and on his shoulders was the scarlet cloak. And Pilate said to the crowd: "See, here is the man!" But if Pilate hoped that the sight of Jesus, so woeful and sad, would arouse the pity of the people, he soon found himself mistaken. Led by the chief priests and their officers, they cried out with loud voices: "To the cross with him! Let him be crucified!" To be crucified was to be fastened with nails on a cross, which was then stood up, and left standing until the suffering man was dead. This was what the crowd of Jews before Pilate's palace called upon him to do with Jesus who had done no harm, but only good! Pilate answered them: "You can take him and crucify him, if you choose. I will have nothing to do with it; for I can not find that he has done anything wicked." The rulers of the Jews answered Pilate: "But we have a law; and by our law he must die, because he has made himself out to be the Son of God!" When Pilate heard that, he was still more afraid, for there seemed to him something strange in this man Jesus. He did not know what to do. He went inside the palace and took Jesus with him. "Where do you come from?" said Pilate to Jesus. Jesus gave him no answer. Pilate said to him: "You will not speak to me? Don't you know that it is in my power either to set you free, or to send you to the cross, just as I please?" "You would have no power over me," answered Jesus, "if it had not been given you from one who is above. God gave you that power to use for the right and not for the wrong. There is one man whose sin is greater than yours; and that is the high priest who brought me to you!" Jesus meant to have Pilate understand that he was only a weak man, yielding to the will of the high priest, and that he as the governor should have a mind of his own and do only what was right in God's sight. All this made Pilate the more anxious not to put Jesus to death, but to set him free. But the rulers of the Jews shouted aloud to him: "If you set this man free, who has called himself a king, you are no friend to Cæsar, the emperor at Rome! Anyone who calls himself a king sets himself above the emperor who is over us all!" [Illustration: Pilate washed his hands, and holding them out, called to the people: "My hands are clean from this good man's blood! This is your doing, not mine!"] Pilate knew that Cæsar the emperor was very jealous and would be very angry if he knew that any man was trying to make himself a king. Very unwillingly, Pilate made up his mind that it would be safer for himself to let Jesus be put to death, rather than to make the emperor at Rome his enemy. So Pilate again took his seat upon the throne, and had Jesus brought before him. It was now the time of sunrise, six o'clock in the morning. Pilate said to the Jews: "Here is your king!" "Kill him! kill him!" yelled the Jews. "Crucify him! Crucify him!" "This fellow is not our king," shouted the priests and rulers. "We have no king but Cæsar the emperor!" Pilate tried to show the Jews that the act of putting Jesus to death was their deed, not his. He sent for a basin of water, and in presence of them all washed his hands. Then holding out his hands, he called out to the people: "My hands are clean from this good man's blood! I tell you that he has done nothing to deserve death! This is your doing, not mine!" "This blood be on us, and on our children who come after us," answered the Jews. Then Pilate, sitting on his throne, gave sentence that it should be as they wished, that Barabbas, a robber and a murderer, should be set free, and that Jesus, who had done no harm, but only good, should be sent to the cross. [Illustration: Denarius of Cæsar] Jesus Led to Calvary CHAPTER 95 IN OUR TIME, and in all well-governed lands, when a man has been sentenced to death, he is taken to prison and kept there safely for a few days, that he may prepare to die. No one is allowed to do him harm; good food is given him to eat, and he is allowed to live his last days in peace. But in the old times, when Jesus was among men, prisoners appointed to die were treated with the greatest cruelty. They were mocked and beaten and spit upon for an hour or more, and then they were led away to death. So it was with Jesus on that day. After the soldiers had treated him shamefully, they took off the scarlet robe and put on him his own clothes. Then they laid upon his wounded shoulders the heavy beam of his cross, and led him from Pilate's palace through the streets of Jerusalem toward a hill outside the city wall. This hill was called in the Hebrew tongue, the language of the Jewish people, "Golgotha," a word meaning "Skull-place." In the language of the Romans, the word meaning "Skull-place" was "Calvaria," and from this word the place where Jesus was crucified has been called "Mount Calvary." It is not certain where was the true Mount Calvary, the place of Christ's cross. For a long time it was believed to be a little hill on the west of the city; and over that hill was built in the after years a great church, called "The Church of the Holy Sepulchre," because inside that church they show not only the place where people thought that the cross stood, but also the tomb or sepulchre in which Jesus was buried. To this church thousands of people go every year, thinking that they can see the very places where the Saviour died and was buried. But most of those who have studied carefully all that can be known about the city of Jerusalem and the hills around it, have believed that the true Calvary was not where the great Church of the Holy Sepulchre now stands, but at some other place. Many think that it was a rounded, grass-covered little hill just outside the city on the north. The side of this hill looking toward the city is very steep, and in it are two great caves. As one stands on the city wall and looks at this rounded hill, with the two holes in it, he thinks of a skull--which is a man's head without the skin and the flesh, and with two eye-holes. This hill may have been called "the skull-place," because it looks so much like a skull. On this skull-like hill it may be that Jesus was crucified. [Illustration: Church of the Holy Sepulchre, sometimes claimed to be built upon the site of Calvary] [Illustration: Turning to the women weeping over him, Jesus said: "Women of Jerusalem, weep not for me but weep for yourselves and your children!"] Jesus walked through the streets of the city loaded down with the heavy beam of his cross on his shoulders. The soldiers were dragging him on, and some were driving him forward with blows, when suddenly, worn out with suffering, and fainting from loss of blood and want of food, he sank down upon the ground, unable to carry his load any further. Just then a man coming from the country into Jerusalem, met the soldiers and the crowd with Jesus. This man was named Simon. He was not Simon Peter, the disciple of Jesus, but another Simon, who had come from a city far away in Africa, called Cyrene. The soldiers seized this man, and made him help Jesus in carrying the cross, until they came to Calvary. Following the soldiers who had been commanded to crucify Jesus, was a crowd of Jewish priests and scribes, the teachers of the law, and a multitude of the lowest of the people, all shouting aloud their rejoicing that Jesus was to be put to death, just as if he had been the wickedest man in all the land. But among these were a few friends of Jesus, and some of the women who had known him and loved him, and were now weeping over the wrongs done to him. Jesus turned and spoke to these women: "Women of Jerusalem, do not weep for me, but weep for yourselves and your children! For the time is coming when they shall say, 'Happy are those who have no children to suffer and to die.' In those days they shall call out to the mountains, 'Fall on us,' and to the hills, 'Hide us.' If this is what they do now in the beginning, what will they do then in the end?" Even in those terrible moments Jesus was not thinking of himself and his own sufferings, but the sorrows that would soon come upon others. [Illustration: ANCIENT JERUSALEM] There is a story told of Jesus on the way to Calvary, which is not found in any of the gospels, and may not be true. It is said that a good woman, named Veronica, was standing by the street when Jesus went by. Seeing his face covered with sweat, and dust, and blood, she went to him and wiped his face with a napkin. When she looked at her napkin, she found that on it had been printed the portrait of Jesus; and she kept it ever afterward as her greatest treasure. They led Jesus out of the gate in the city wall, and up the side of the hill Calvary, wherever that hill was. There they laid the cross upon the ground and stretched Jesus out upon it. They drove nails through his hands and feet to fasten his body to the cross. Then they lifted it up with Jesus upon it, and dropped the lower end of it into a hole so that it would stand upright. With Jesus they had brought two other men, who had been robbers, and sentenced to die by the cross. These two men they crucified with Jesus, one on his right hand and the other on his left, and Jesus between them, as if he had been the most wicked man of the three. Jesus knew that the Roman soldiers who fastened him to the cross were not his enemies, as the Jews were, but were only obeying the orders that had been given them by their officers. He prayed to God for them. "Father," said Jesus, "forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing!" It was nine o'clock on Friday morning when Jesus was placed upon the cross; and he hung there living for six awful hours, until three o'clock in the afternoon. [Illustration: When Jesus saw his mother, and beside her the disciple whom he loved, he spoke from the cross to her: "Woman, there is your son." Then he said to John: "Son, there is your mother."] Jesus on the Cross CHAPTER 96 IT WAS the custom of the Romans when they put to death any man upon the cross, to place on the cross above his head a writing, telling what the man's crime was. Pilate commanded that the writing above the head of Jesus should be THIS IS JESUS OF NAZARETH THE KING OF THE JEWS. It was written in the language of three different peoples; in Hebrew, the tongue spoken by the Jews; in Latin, the language of the Romans; and in Greek, the language spoken by all in that part of the world who were not Jews. These words told a great truth, that Jesus was a king, and they told it to all the earth, although very few people believed it then. Now, all over the world are millions upon millions of people who serve Jesus as Lord and King. When the priests and rulers of the Jews read this writing upon the cross they were greatly displeased, for they did not like to have Jesus called a king. The priests went to Pilate in his palace and said to him: "Will you not change the writing upon the cross of that man? Let it not be, 'The King of the Jews.' Please change it to, 'He said, "I am King of the Jews."'" But Pilate answered them, "What I have written, I have written." He meant that whatever he had placed upon the cross must stand there unchanged. It was also the custom of the Romans when a man was crucified to give his clothes to the soldiers who fixed him on the cross. Four soldiers were in charge of the cross. These men divided the clothes of Jesus among them, each taking one garment. But one garment was left over, the shirt of Jesus. This was all woven in one piece, not sewed together; so the soldiers said: "Let us not tear it, but cast lots to settle whose it shall be." They threw upon the ground little square pieces of ivory having spots upon them. These squares were called dice. Each soldier threw one ivory piece; and they counted the spots on the side that was uppermost. The soldier whose piece showed the highest number took the shirt of Jesus as his own. One of the disciples of Jesus was standing near, and saw the soldiers dividing the clothes of Jesus, and he thought of the words in the twenty-second psalm, as a prophecy or foretelling of what should happen to Christ. These were the words of the psalm, written many hundred years before: "They shared my garments among them, And over my clothing they cast lots." The soldiers having done their work, sat down around the cross to watch it. A great crowd of the priests and scribes and people stood around the cross, looking at Jesus hanging there. Some of them spoke spitefully to Jesus, shaking their heads at him, saying such words as these: "Ah! you would destroy the Temple and build it again in three days, would you? Then come down from the cross and save yourself if you can!" And some of the priests and scribes called out, "He saved others; but he can not save himself! If he is, as he said, 'Christ, the King of Israel,' let him now come down from the cross in our sight. Then we will believe on him." "He trusts in God," said others; "now let God help him, if he chooses; for he said, 'I am the Son of God.'" One of the two robbers who were hanging on the crosses beside Jesus called out to him, joining in the abuse: "Are you not the Christ, the King of Israel? If you are, why don't you save yourself and save us with you?" But the crucified man on the other side of Jesus rebuked him: "Have you no fear of a just God?" he said. "You are suffering the same sentence as this man. And you and I are suffering only what we deserve for our deeds; but this man has done nothing wrong." Then this man from his cross said to Jesus, "Jesus, do not forget me when you come into your kingdom." And Jesus answered him, "I tell you truly, this very day you shall be with me in the heavenly land." At this time, near the cross of Jesus, was standing John, his disciple, the one disciple that Jesus loved, and with him was Mary, the mother of Jesus, also her sister and two other women named Mary--Mary the wife of Clopas, and Mary Magdalene, or Mary of Magdala. When Jesus saw his mother, and beside her the disciple whom he loved, he spoke from the cross to her: "Woman, there is your son." Then he said to John: "Son, there is your mother." And from that time Mary, the mother of Jesus, lived with the disciple John, as though he was her own son. It was now noon, and Jesus had been upon the cross three long, terrible hours; the sun beating with its rays upon his head. Just at noon a sudden darkness came over the sky and the earth, and the darkness did not pass away until three o'clock. This darkness alarmed the people, and those who had been speaking to Jesus words of contempt, now stood still, full of fear. At about three o'clock, Jesus called out with a loud voice these words: "My God! My God! Why hast thou forsaken me?" These are the opening words of the twenty-second psalm, written many hundred years before as a prophecy of what Christ should suffer. It may be that Jesus spoke those words to show that all his suffering had been foretold long before. Jesus in speaking those words used the old Hebrew tongue, the language in which the psalm was written. In the old Hebrew the words, "My God! My God!" were "Eloi! Eloi!" But the language had changed so greatly since the psalms were written that the people who heard him did not understand the words. Some said, "He is calling upon Elijah the prophet to help him!" Then Jesus spoke again and said: "I am thirsty." There was standing by a jar full of vinegar. One of the men took a sponge, soaked it in the vinegar, fastened it on the end of a stick, and placed it on the lips of Jesus. This also had been foretold in the sixty-ninth psalm, in the words, "In my thirst they gave me vinegar to drink." As soon as Jesus tasted the vinegar, he said: "All is finished." Then, after a moment's pause, he spoke with a loud voice to God: "Father, into thy hands I give up my spirit!" And with those words his head dropped forward, and Jesus was hanging dead upon his cross. [Illustration: The people on Mt. Calvary looking at the dying Jesus were filled with fear, and went back to the city in terror at the darkness and earthquake.] Just at the moment when Jesus died, suddenly there was an earthquake; the ground was shaken, the rocks were torn apart, and many of the tombs around Jerusalem were opened. In the Temple on Mount Moriah, a wonderful event was seen. The great veil that hung between the Holy Place and the Most Holy Place was suddenly torn from the top to the bottom, as if by a mighty unseen hand, so that the priests in the Temple could see what none of them, except the high priest, had ever seen before, the inside of the Holy of Holies. The people who were standing on Mount Calvary, looking at the dying Jesus, were filled with fear. They beat upon their breasts with their hands, and went back to the city in terror at the darkness and the earthquake. The Roman captain, who was in charge of the soldiers around the cross, said: "Surely this was a good man, a son of God!" You know that the Sabbath among the Jews was kept on the seventh day of the week and that it always began at sunset on the evening before. It was on Friday that Jesus was crucified, and three o'clock on that afternoon. The Jews did not wish to have the men upon the three crosses hanging there upon the Sabbath, for that day, the Passover Sabbath, was kept especially holy. The Jewish rulers came to Pilate and asked him that the men should not be left upon the cross over the Sabbath, but that they should be killed and their bodies taken away. They did not know at that time that Jesus was already dead. Pilate gave orders to the soldiers to have the men killed. This they did by breaking their legs, as they hung upon the crosses. As they saw that Jesus was no longer alive, they did not break his legs. But one of the soldiers, to be sure of his death, drove his spear into the side of Jesus, to strike his heart. John the disciple was still standing there watching beside the cross to the very last, and he wrote in his gospel many years afterward that he saw both water and blood pour forth from the side of Jesus, out of the wound made by the spear. The Tomb in the Garden CHAPTER 97 YOU REMEMBER that from the garden of Gethsemane, very early on Friday morning, Jesus was brought before the high council of the Jews for trial, and that by the council it was ordered that Jesus should be put to death as one who falsely claimed that he was Christ, the King of Israel. But not all the members of this council were enemies of Jesus. A very few of them were his friends, but in secret, not daring to speak for him or to vote for him, for fear of the rulers and the people. One of these secret friends of Jesus was Nicodemus, the ruler who had come to see Jesus at night three years before, on his first visit to Jerusalem. Another was a good man named Joseph, a rich man, who lived at a place called Arimathea, some miles out of Jerusalem, in the country. This man, Joseph of Arimathea, did a very bold thing. He went to Pilate in his palace, and asked Pilate to allow him to take down from the cross the dead body of Jesus, and to bury it. To us this may not seem a brave act, but it was, for the Roman rulers were very suspicious of anybody who appeared to be the friend of one who had been condemned to death. Some time before this, when a man asked the governor for the body of a man who had been put to death, the governor ordered that his friend should also be slain as an enemy of the Romans and the governor's enemy. It might be said that Joseph of Arimathea "took his life in his hands" when he asked Pilate for the body of Jesus. [Illustration: In the side of a rocky hill was a cave which Joseph of Arimathea had hollowed out for his own tomb, and there they laid the body of Jesus.] But Pilate was not angry with Joseph; and at heart he was not an enemy of Jesus. Pilate was surprised to learn that Jesus was already dead, for sometimes upon the cross men lived several days of terrible pain. He sent for the Roman captain who had been in charge at the cross, and asked him if Jesus the Nazarene was dead. When the captain told him that Jesus was dead, he allowed Joseph to take away the body and do with it as he pleased. Then Joseph, with some of the disciples of Jesus, carefully and tenderly took down from the cross the body of Jesus; and after the manner of Jewish burials at that time, wrapped it round and round with long strips of linen cloth. They also tied a napkin over the face of Jesus. Nicodemus came to help in the burial, bringing with him the weight of a hundred pounds in fragrant and costly spices, aloes and myrrh, which they laid in the linen cloth around the body. Near the place where Jesus was crucified was a garden belonging to Joseph of Arimathea, and in the side of the rocky hill was a cave which Joseph had hollowed out for his own tomb. No dead body had ever been buried in this tomb; and there they laid the body of Jesus. Then they rolled a great stone to the door of the tomb, and left it. Near by, at this time, were some of the women who had come with Jesus from Galilee; looking on while the body of Jesus, whom they had loved so fondly, was laid in the tomb. One of these women was Mary Magdalene, or "Mary of Magdala" by the Sea of Galilee, a woman from whom Jesus had driven out evil spirits more than a year before. Another woman was Mary, the wife of Clopas; and another was named Salome, who may have been the mother of the disciples James and John, and the wife of Zebedee the fisherman. These women noticed carefully the place where the body of Jesus was buried. On the next morning, which was the Jewish Sabbath day, the chief priests and leading men among the Jews came to Pilate and said to him: "We remember, sir, that while this man who deceived the people was alive, he said, 'After three days in the tomb I will arise again.' Now, then, give orders that the tomb where he is buried be kept under guard for three days. For if it be not watched, his disciples may come and steal his body out of the tomb and hide it; then they will tell the people, 'He is risen from the dead,' and the last false report will do more harm than the first, that he was the King of Israel." "Take a guard of soldiers," said Pilate, "and make it just as sure as you can." So they went and made the tomb secure by putting a seal on the great stone at the door. Also they placed a guard of soldiers in front of the tomb, with orders to stay there for three days. On one side of the rounded skull-like hill which may have been Calvary, where Jesus was crucified, there has been found a very ancient tomb, which may have been the place of the Saviour's burial. No one can be sure of this; but we may be certain that either in this tomb, or in one like it, not far away, Jesus was buried. The Risen Christ and the Empty Tomb CHAPTER 98 IT WAS FRIDAY evening at sunset, only three hours after Jesus had died upon his cross, when the stone at the door of the tomb was rolled against the door, and the body of Jesus was left alone in its resting place. All day on Saturday, the Jewish Sabbath, and through that night, the body lay in the tomb, watched by Roman soldiers. But early on Sunday morning, before the sun rose, something wonderful took place such as had never been seen from the beginning of the world and never has been seen since that day. There was a great earthquake, shaking the ground around the tomb, as an angel from heaven came down. His face and his form shone with dazzling brightness like lightning, and his clothing was white as snow glittering in the sun. The soldiers on guard trembled as they saw the angel, and fell down on the ground as if they were dead; and after a little while rising up, crept away in their fear, and left the garden. The bright angel laid his hand on the stone at the door of the tomb, paying no attention to the seal upon it, and rolled the stone away. As he stood at the open door of the tomb, the Lord Jesus Christ walked out from it, no longer dead but living, and living never to die again. The grave clothes were not now wrapped around his body, and the napkin had been taken from his face. [Illustration: The women at the empty tomb listened in fear and wonder to the words of the angel: "He is not here; he has risen!"] If the Roman soldiers were still there, they could not see Jesus, for a change had come over him, and he was now seen only by those whom he wished to see him and by no others. And he could suddenly appear and disappear as he chose. He could be seen suddenly in one place, and then a moment after could be seen just as suddenly in another place miles and miles away. He could pass through closed doors just as if they were wide open; and after being seen by his friends could vanish out of their sight. A few moments after the earthquake, and after the risen Christ had come from his tomb, a few women came from the city to the tomb, bringing some more spices and perfumes to place around his body. Those women were Mary Magdalene, and Mary the wife of Clopas, and Salome, and a woman named Joanna, and perhaps others. They may have felt the earthquake shock, but they did not know the wonderful things that had taken place, and supposed that the body of Jesus was in the tomb. As they came near, they said to each other: "Who will roll away for us the great stone at the door of the tomb?" But when they came to the tomb, they found the stone already rolled away, and the tomb open. Mary Magdalene came a little before the others, and was the first to see that the tomb was open, and looking inside she saw that it was empty. She took but one glance, and then, without waiting for the others, ran away to tell some of the disciples of Jesus that the tomb had been opened and the body of Jesus taken away, for she did not know that Jesus had risen and was living. A moment after Mary Magdalene had gone away, the other women came to the tomb. They, too, saw that the stone had been rolled away, the tomb was open and the body of Jesus was not there. But these women saw what Mary Magdalene had not seen, a young man with shining face and long white robe, seated on the right side of the place where the body of Jesus had been laid. They were frightened as they looked upon him, for this young man was the angel who had rolled away the stone. But he calmed their fears, saying to them: "Do not be afraid, you are looking for Jesus the Nazarene, who has been crucified. He has risen; he is not here! Look! this is the place where his body was laid; and you can see it is empty! But go, find his disciples, and Peter, and tell them that he will go before you into Galilee, to the mountains. There they will see him, as he said to them before he died." So these women, like Mary Magdalene only a few minutes before, went away from the tomb to find some of the disciples. They found Peter and John, and told them the news that the angel had given to them. Peter and John at once hurried to the tomb. John was younger than Peter, and came to the tomb first. He saw the stone rolled away and the tomb open, and stood at the door, hesitating, uncertain whether to go into the tomb or not. But Peter, who came a moment afterward, did not hesitate. He rushed past John into the tomb, and saw that it was empty. It was like John, the thoughtful one, to wait at the door of the tomb; and it was like Peter, the quick and hasty one, to rush straight into the tomb. After Peter walked into the tomb, John followed him inside. They saw that the grave-place was empty; but they saw no angel. John noticed that the grave-clothes were lying in a heap on the floor, just as if Jesus had slipped out of them, without unrolling the long bands; and that the napkin which he had seen bound about his face had been carefully folded and was lying by itself. All these things showed that the body had not been taken away suddenly or in haste. [Illustration: Peter and John hurried to the tomb; seeing that it was empty they were convinced that Jesus had risen.] Peter, the excitable, was not a thinker, and just looked at these things and wondered. But John, the thoughtful disciple, looked at these things--the stone rolled away with its seal broken, the empty tomb, the grave clothes in an orderly pile, and the napkin folded carefully. Then it flashed upon his mind for the first time that his Lord had risen alive from the tomb! And at that moment came to him the words of Jesus spoken more than once, that he must die, and on the third day would rise again from death to life. Of all the eleven disciples of Jesus--for now that Judas was dead, they were no longer twelve, but eleven--John, the disciple whom Jesus loved the most, was the first one to believe that Jesus had risen, and he believed it before he had seen his living Lord. As yet no one had seen Jesus living. Two disciples had looked into the empty tomb, and the women, except Mary Magdalene, had seen the angel, but none of them had seen Jesus; and all of them, save Mary Magdalene, went away, wondering and scarcely knowing what to think. Jesus and Mary Magdalene CHAPTER 99 All THE FOUR gospels agree in saying that the first person who saw Jesus Christ living after his death on the cross was Mary Magdalene; that is, Mary of Magdala, a town on the Sea of Galilee; a woman from whom a year before Jesus had driven out evil spirits; and who in love for what Jesus had done to her, followed him, and helped him with her gifts, for she was a rich woman. When the other women, with Peter and John, went away from the tomb, Mary stayed there, weeping and sobbing; for she had not seen the angel who said that Jesus had risen, and did not know that he was alive. As she stood weeping at the door of the tomb, she looked inside. There she saw two angels sitting at the empty grave-place, one at the head, the other at the feet, where the body of Jesus had been lying. "Woman," said one of the angels, "why are you weeping?" "Because they have taken away my Lord," answered Mary, "and I do not know where they have laid him." Just then something caused her to turn around, and she saw a man standing near her. It was Jesus, but she did not know him; for after rising from his grave Jesus showed himself in differing forms, and people could not know him until he allowed them. "Woman," said Jesus to her, "why are you weeping? Who is it that you are looking for?" Mary thought that this strange man was the gardener. She said to him: "Oh, sir, if you have carried him anywhere, tell me where you have laid him, and I will take him away myself." "Mary!" said Jesus. And as he spoke her name, she knew him; and fell at his feet, clasping them in her hands. "My own Master!" was all that she could say, in her joy at seeing him alive once more, whom she had last looked upon dead, hanging on the cross. "Do not hold me," said Jesus, "for I have yet to arise and go to my Father in heaven; but go to my brothers, my disciples, and tell them that I shall soon rise up from the earth and go to my Father and your Father, to my God, and your God." Mary Magdalene went and found the disciples, and said to them, "I have seen the Lord!" telling them also what he had said to her. After Mary Magdalene had gone away from the tomb, the other women--Mary the wife of Clopas, Joanna, and Salome--came back from having seen the disciples, and having told them what the angel had said, that Jesus had risen. As they drew near the tomb, Jesus went to meet them. "Welcome!" he said to the women. They ran up to him, fell on their faces, and clasped his feet, just as Mary had done, for they felt joy and fear mingled as they saw him. "Do not be afraid," said Jesus, "go tell my brothers to go to Galilee and they shall see me there." So these women went again to find the disciples and give them the news that Jesus was really living, and that they had seen him. All this was on Sunday morning--the first Easter-day. [Illustration: Mary Magdalene turned and answered the strange man whom she thought was the gardener: "Oh, sir, if you have carried him anywhere, tell me where you have laid him." "Mary!" said Jesus. And as he spoke her name she knew him.] On that morning, when the soldiers who had fled from the tomb recovered from their terror, they went to the chief priests and told them about the earthquake and the angel who had rolled away the stone. The priests had a talk with the rulers of the city; then they gave a large sum of money to the soldiers, and told them to say to everybody: "The disciples came at night, while we were asleep, and broke open the tomb, and stole the body of Jesus." They knew that a soldier had no right to sleep while on guard; and the rule of the army was, that any soldier who slept on his post should be put to death. But the rulers said to them: "If the governor hears about this, we will satisfy him, and see that no harm comes to you." So the soldiers took their money and did as they were told. And the story that the body of Jesus was stolen from the tomb, was told among the Jewish people and believed by them. [Illustration: Coins struck by Pontius Pilate] [Illustration: Then Jesus began to show them in all the Old Testament books, how all the prophets had foretold the things that should take place with Christ when he should come.] A Walk with the Risen Christ CHAPTER 100 WHEN JESUS was seen after he rose from the tomb, it was called an "appearance" because Jesus appeared to someone. His first appearance, as you have read, was to Mary Magdalene; his second appearance was to the other women; and his third appearance was to two men walking out into the country on that first Easter morning. Those two men were not among the twelve disciples of Jesus; but they had believed in him as the Christ, the King of Israel. One of them was named Cleopas; the name of the other has not been given in the gospel by Saint Luke, where this story is told. The two men on that morning were walking out from Jerusalem to a village called Emmaus, which was six or seven miles from the city. As they walked, they talked together of Jesus, of his death, his burial, and of a report which had just come to them, that he was living again. While they were walking and talking, they suddenly saw another man walking with them. This stranger was Jesus, but they did not know him; just as Mary Magdalene did not know Jesus when first she saw him. He said to them: "What is it that you are talking about, as you walk along?" They stood still, with sorrowful faces; and Cleopas answered this stranger. "What!" said Cleopas, "do you live all alone in Jerusalem, since you seem not to have heard of the things that have taken place there in the last few days?" "What things do you mean?" asked the stranger. "Why, about Jesus of Nazareth," they answered. "Have you never heard of him? He was a wonderful prophet, to whom God gave power in his words and his deeds before all the people. But the chief priests and our rulers seized him, and gave him up to be sentenced to death, and crucified him. But it was our hope that he was to be the one to set Israel free from its enemies, and reign as our King. And now, this is the third day since he died, and this morning some women of our company have brought to us news that greatly surprised us. They went to the tomb at daybreak, and found it open, but did not find his body within it. They told us that they had seen some angels, who said that Jesus was alive! At once some of our men went to the tomb, and found it just as the women had said, the tomb thrown open and the body gone; but they did not see Jesus." "O, foolish men, with hearts so slow to believe, after all that the prophets have said in the Holy Book!" said the stranger, who was the risen Jesus. "Do you not know that Christ was bound to suffer all these things before he could enter his glory as the Son of God?" Then he began to show them in all the Old Testament books, how Moses in the law, and David in the psalms, and all the prophets in their writings, had foretold the things that should take place with Christ when he should come; and that all these things had come to pass with Jesus, showing that Jesus of Nazareth was in truth the Son of God and the King of Israel. While they went on talking together, they drew near the village of Emmaus, to which the two men were going. The unknown Jesus seemed as if he was going further; but they urged him to stop. "Stay with us," they said to him, "for it is getting toward evening; the sun is already about to set." [Illustration: After his resurrection Jesus appears to Simon Peter.] And Jesus went with them to the village and into the house. They sat down to supper; and the stranger took the loaf of bread, blessed it, broke it, and gave it to them. In that instant, their eyes were opened, and they knew who he was, Jesus their Master! But in that moment he vanished out of their sight. "How our hearts burned within us," they said to each other, "while he was talking to us on the road and explaining to us what is said in the Holy Book!" Then they immediately rose up from the table, and went back in haste to Jerusalem. They found some of the disciples and others in the upper room at Jerusalem, where Jesus had taken his last supper with his disciples. Before Cleopas and his friend found a chance to tell their story, those in the room said to them: "The Lord has really risen, and has appeared to Simon Peter!" Then the two men from Emmaus told how the stranger had walked with them on the road, and had told them many things out of the Old Testament; and how they had suddenly known that he was Jesus, while he was blessing and breaking the bread. These were the third and fourth appearances of Jesus, the third to Simon Peter; but what Jesus said to him has not been written; and the fourth, to Cleopas and his friend on the road to Emmaus. Two Sunday Evenings with the Risen Christ CHAPTER 101 THE MEETING place of all who believed in Jesus, after his death on the cross, seems to have been the upstairs room, where Jesus had his last supper. There they met from day to day; and it was to this place that the two men came from Emmaus with the report of their meeting with Jesus. On the evening of Sunday, the first Easter day, the followers of Jesus were gathered together in this room. Ten of the eleven disciples of Christ were there, Thomas being absent; and with them were the women and a number of others who were believers in Jesus. The doors leading to this room were shut and locked, for they feared the Jewish rulers and people. They were talking together of these reports that had come to them of Jesus having risen and having been seen, when all of a sudden they saw Jesus himself standing in the middle of the room. He said to them: "Peace be to you!" At the first sight of him, they were frightened, for they thought it was not Jesus alive whom they saw, but the ghost or spirit of Jesus dead. "Why are you so startled?" said Jesus to them, "and why do doubts come to you? Look at my hands and my feet. It is I, myself. Feel me, and look at me; a spirit has not flesh and bones, as you see that I have!" [Illustration: Jesus looked at Thomas and said to him: "Look at my hands and put your finger there, and look at my side and thrust your hand into it."] With these words he showed them his hands and his feet, with the holes left by the nails on the cross still in them. Even yet, they felt the sight of Jesus was too good to be true, and could scarcely believe that it was their Lord living. He said to them: "Have you here anything to eat?" They brought to him a piece of broiled fish; and he ate it while they looked on. This was not because he was hungry and needed food, for he no longer needed anything; but simply to show them that he was really living. Then at last they were afraid no longer, and believed fully that their Lord was with them living; and their hearts were full of joy. Jesus said to them again: "Peace be with you; as the Father sent me forth, even so I send you forth." Then he breathed on them, and said, "Receive the Holy Spirit of God! I give you power that if you take away the sins of men, they are taken away from them, just as if I myself forgave them; and if you do not take away their sins, then the guilt of their sins shall stay upon them." After talking with his followers for a time on that evening, Jesus disappeared as suddenly as he had come. This was his fifth appearance on that day, the day of his rising from the tomb. But, as we have seen, Thomas, one of the twelve disciples of Jesus, was not with the others on that evening, and being absent did not meet the risen Jesus. The other disciples said to him: "We have seen the Lord!" But Thomas would not believe them. He thought that they were all mistaken, and said: "Unless I see in his hands the mark of the nails on the cross, and put my finger on those marks of the nails; and unless I can put my hand into the wound made by the spear in his side, I will not believe that he is alive!" A week later, on the next Sunday evening, they all met again in the upper room; and at this time, Thomas was present. Though the doors were shut, Jesus came again and stood among them, with the words as before: "Peace be with you!" He looked at Thomas and said to him: "Look at my hands, and put your finger there; and look at my side, and thrust your hand into it. Do not longer refuse to believe that I am alive, but believe in me." Thomas answered him: "My Lord, and my God!" "Is it because you have seen me that you have believed in me?" said Jesus. "Blessed are those who have not seen, and yet have believed!" You remember that John, the beloved disciple, believed that Jesus had risen when he looked into the empty tomb, and before he had seen him alive. This meeting with the disciples on the second Sunday evening was the sixth appearance of Jesus after rising from the dead. The Breakfast by the Sea CHAPTER 102 ON THE NIGHT before the death of Jesus, at the supper he had said to the twelve disciples, "After I have risen from the dead, I will go before you to Galilee." And after rising from his tomb, he had said to the women, "Go and tell my disciples that I will meet them on the mountain in Galilee." This mountain was Kurn Hattin, near the Sea of Galilee, where in the year before, he had preached his great "Sermon on the Mount." The word that Jesus would show himself to all who believed on him, on this mountain in Galilee, led the followers of Jesus from all parts of the land to go to Galilee and to this mountain. They waited near that place for some days without seeing Jesus. One morning seven of the eleven disciples of Jesus were on the shore of the Sea of Galilee. These seven men were Simon Peter, James and John, Thomas, Nathanael (who was also called Bartholomew, which means "son of Tolmai"), and two other disciples, whose names have not been given. While they were standing by the lake, Peter felt a longing for his old work as a fisherman, and he said to the others: "I am going fishing." He thought that while they were waiting for Jesus to come, they might also do some work. The other six men said: "We will go fishing with you." [Illustration: At daybreak they saw a man standing on the shore, who called to them: "Throw out your net on the right side of the boat and you will catch some fish."] They went out in the boat, and fished all night, but caught nothing. The next morning, just as the day was breaking, they saw a man standing on the shore. "Boys," called out this man, "have you caught anything?" "No," they answered him. "Throw out your net on the right side of the boat," said the stranger, "and you will find some fish." They threw out the net as the man told them, and at once it was filled with large fish, so full that they could not at first haul it in. Then John, the disciple whom Jesus loved, said to Peter: "That is our Lord!" When Simon Peter heard that this man on the shore was the Lord Jesus, he slipped on his coat--for he had taken it off while working--and leaped into the water to swim ashore. The other disciples came ashore in a smaller boat, dragging the net, full of fish; for they were not more than a hundred yards from the beach. When they landed on the shore, they saw a charcoal fire burning, with some fish cooking upon it and some bread beside it. Jesus said: "Bring some of the fish that you have caught." Peter went to the boat and pulled the net ashore, full of large fish. They counted them afterward, and found that they numbered one hundred and fifty-three; but although there were so many, the net was not torn anywhere. Jesus said to them: "Come and have breakfast." They sat down on the beach beside the fire; and Jesus passed the bread around to them, and also the broiled fish. This was now the third time that Jesus was seen by his disciples after rising from the dead; for he had already appeared to them on two Sunday evenings in Jerusalem; and in all, this was the seventh appearance of Jesus after his rising from the dead. After they had eaten their breakfast, and were still sitting together, Jesus said to Simon Peter: "Simon, son of Jonas, do you love me more than the others?" "Why, Master," answered Peter, "you know that I am your friend." "Then," said Jesus, "feed my lambs." There was a moment's pause, and then Jesus a second time asked Peter: "Simon, son of Jonas, do you love me?" "Yes, Master," he replied; "you know that I am your friend." "Then," said Jesus, "be a shepherd to my sheep." Then, a third time, Jesus asked him: "Simon, son of Jonas, are you my friend?" Peter felt hurt that his third question was "Are you my friend?" and not "Do you love me?" and he answered: "Master, you know everything! You know that I am your friend!" "Then feed my sheep," said Jesus; and he went on, "I tell you in truth, when you were young you put your own girdle around your waist, and went wherever you chose. But when you grow old, you will stretch out your hands for someone else to put a girdle around you, and you will be taken where you do not wish to go." Then Jesus added, "Follow me." As Peter on the night of his Master's trial had three times denied that he knew Jesus or was his disciple, so now Jesus wished him to say three times before them all that he was his friend. And when he had spoken this three times, the Lord said to him, as he had said long before by the Sea of Galilee, "Follow me." Thus Simon Peter was again given his old place among the disciples of Jesus. What Jesus said to Peter about stretching out his hands and being carried where he did not wish to go, was spoken as a prophecy or foretelling of the manner by which Peter should die for the sake of Christ. Nearly forty years after that time, when Peter was an old man, he was put to death at Rome by being crucified as Jesus had been. It is said that when he was about to be fastened upon the cross, he said to the soldiers, that one who had denied his Master as he had, was not worthy of dying in the same manner as Jesus had died; and he begged them to set up his cross with his head downward toward the ground; and thus Peter died. But to go back to that breakfast by the Sea of Galilee, after those words had been spoken by Jesus to Peter, he looked at John, who was standing near. Peter and John, though very different in their natures, loved each other greatly. In the story of Jesus and his disciples, and in the days that came after, we find that almost always Peter and John were together. Seeing John, Peter said to Jesus: "Master, you have told me about myself; now tell what this man shall do." But Jesus said to Peter: "If I choose that he shall wait until I come back to earth, what has that to do with you? Do you follow me, as I said." John, the disciple whom Jesus loved, lived a long time after that day. When all the rest of the twelve disciples of Jesus had died--nearly all of them were slain by enemies of Christ--John was still living. And from these words of Jesus many thought that John would not die. But Jesus did not say that John would not die. He only said that if he chose to let John live until he, Jesus, came again, it was not Peter's matter, but the Lord's. [Illustration: He rose into the air, higher and higher, until a cloud covered him from their sight, and Jesus the Lord of glory was seen no more.] Jesus Rising up from Earth to Heaven CHAPTER 103 SOON AFTER the appearance of Jesus to the seven disciples by the Sea of Galilee, a great meeting was held of many who believed in Jesus, on the mountain, in Galilee, where Jesus had told them to come together. It is said that at this meeting more than five hundred people who were followers of Jesus gathered in one place. There Jesus showed himself to the whole company. When they saw him they bowed down to the ground before him; but even then some of them were in doubt whether they had really seen the Lord. At that time Jesus drew near to this company and said to them: "All power as the Son of God, and the King of God's Kingdom in heaven and on earth has been given to me by my Father. I command you, therefore, to go and preach the gospel to all the world, and make disciples of all nations and in all lands. Those who believe on me, baptize in the name of the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit; and teach them to obey all the commands that I have given you. Whoever believes on me as his Saviour shall be saved from his sins; but whoever will not believe, shall suffer the guilt of his sins. And these powers shall be given to those who believe; in my name they shall drive out evil spirits; they shall speak with new tongues; they shall take up poisonous snakes in their hands and shall suffer no harm; if they drink any poison it shall not hurt them; they will place their hands on sick people, and they shall become well. And I will be with you all the time, even to the very end of the world." After this there was a ninth appearance of Jesus to James; not James the brother of John, but another James who was the son of Joseph and Mary, and a younger brother of Jesus. What was said at that appearance has not been told, but from that time James was one of the foremost followers of Jesus, and for many years a leader in the church at Jerusalem. Long after this, James wrote one of the books in the New Testament, the Epistle of James. Jesus was seen from time to time during forty days by his disciples and followers. We know of ten times in all when Jesus appeared; but there may have been other times of which no mention is made in the gospels or in the other writings of the New Testament. His tenth appearance, as far as we know, and his last, may have been at the upper room in Jerusalem, forty days after he had risen from his tomb. At that time he said: "When I was with you, I told you this, that everything written of me in the books of Moses, and the psalms and the prophets must come to pass." Then he opened their minds to understand what was written in the Old Testament. "Thus," he said, "it is written that Christ the King of Israel must suffer, and die, and rise again the third day, just as has come to pass. And now you are to go forth and preach that men must everywhere turn from their sins to God, and be forgiven of their sins through the power given to me. And you are to begin your preaching here in Jerusalem, the very place where I have been crucified. I will soon send down on you the Holy Spirit whom my Father has promised. But wait in this city until the power comes upon you from on high." [Illustration: "Where two or three are gathered together in my name, there am I in the midst of them."] Then the risen Christ led them out of the city to the Mount of Olives. No one except those who believed in him could see him, for he was unseen to all other people. As he drew near Bethany he lifted up his hands and blessed his followers. While they were looking at him, and his hands were held out, he rose into the air, higher and higher, until after a time a cloud covered him from their sight, and Jesus the Lord of glory was seen no more. While they were looking upward, two men dressed in shining white, angels of God, were seen standing beside them. These angels said to the followers of Jesus: "Men of Galilee, why are you standing here looking up towards the heavens? This Jesus, who has been taken from you, will come again to earth in the very same way that you have seen him go up to heaven." So Jesus Christ was taken up to heaven, and there sat down on his throne at the right hand of God. He sits there still, watching over his people until the day shall come for him to return to earth. * * * * * Transcriber's Notes: Obvious punctuation errors repaired. Text uses Caesar in the introduction and Cæsar in the stories. There were hyphenation differences between the text usage and caption usage. For example, the text uses no hyphen on "today" while one of the captions does hyphenate it. Page 31, "his" changed to "this" (Upon this altar a) Page 56, "Caesarea" changed to "Cæsarea" (from Shechem or Joppa or Cæsarea) Page 228, word "do" removed from text. Original read (do you give them) Page 353, "Zacc eus" changed to "Zaccheus" (rich man named Zaccheus) Page 455, "portr t" changed to "portrait" (portrait of Jesus) Page 472, "is" added to text (this is the place where) 
43205	----	generously made available by The Internet Archive.) Is the Devil a Myth? By C. F. WIMBERLY _Author of "The Vulture's Claw," "New Clothes for the Old Man," "The Cry in the Night," "The Winepress," "The Lost Legacy," Etc., Etc._ NEW YORK CHICAGO TORONTO Fleming H. Revell Company LONDON AND EDINBURGH Copyright, 1913, by FLEMING H. REVELL COMPANY New York: 158 Fifth Avenue Chicago: 17 North Wabash Ave. London: 21 Paternoster Square Edinburgh: 75 Princes Street _With the fondest recollections and appreciation of one, "in age and feebleness extreme," who taught me the first lessons about the Being of these studies; one who contributed her all to the rearing of noble ideals, MARTHA M. WIMBERLY, My Mother, this book is lovingly dedicated by the Author_ Preface It is the writer's firm conviction, in these days when the most enthusiastic "bookworm" cannot even keep up with the titles of the book output, that an earnest, sensible reason should be given for adding another to the already endless list of books. We have enough books to-day, "good, bad, indifferent," with which, if they were collected, to build another Cyclops pyramid. The sage of the Old Testament declared in his day, concerning the endless making of books; such a statement, compared with modern writing and publishing of books, sounds amusing. Every possible subject, vagary, or ism, for which a book could be written, is overworked. Bible themes of all grades, from orthodoxy to ultra higher criticism, have flooded the land. Especially is the iconoclast in much evidence; he is free lance, and shows no quarters. Cardinal tenets of Bible faith, so long unquestioned, are being smitten with a merciless hand. Disintegration is the most obvious fact among us; nothing is too sacred for the crucible of what is termed "scholarship." But why this book? Let us take a little survey. Over against the modern idea, that the race is endowed with all the inherent elements of goodness necessary to its regeneration, there is a correspondent belief that _evil_ is only an error. When the race by social and mental evolution succeeds in eliminating all the superstitions and false dogmas, the body politic will be self-curative, like the physical body, restoring itself by means of inspiration, respiration, exercise, sleep, food, etc., once the causes of disease are eliminated from the system. For several decades we have been approaching the doctrine which denies all Personalism--either good or bad. When we repudiate the Bible teaching, that the source of all evil emanates from a great Personality, the Bible teaching of the Incarnation suffers in the same proportion. The title of this book is a question, and one by no means strained, if considered from the view-point of modern thought. We have undertaken an answer. If by reason and revelation we can arrive at a satisfactory conclusion, the gain thereby cannot be overestimated. If the personality of Satan can be successfully consigned to the religious junk pile, our Bible is at once thrown into a jumble of contradictions and inconsistencies. The result will be even worse than our enemies claim for it now. One of the late recognized writers on the Old Testament says: "The Old Testament is no longer considered valuable among scholars as a sacred oracle, but it is valuable in that it is the history of a people." _If the Devil is a Myth, our Bible can be nothing better than historical chaos._ In the preparation of these pages, we wish to acknowledge with deep gratitude the assistance of Mr. S. D. Gordon, author of "Quiet Talks"; Dr. I. M. Haldeman, author and preacher; Dr. Gross Alexander, editor, author, and preacher; Dr. W. B. Godbey, an author of great learning and extensive travel; Dr. B. Carradine, evangelist and author; Dr. H. C. Morrison, college president, editor, author, and evangelist; Prof. L. T. Townsend, and Hon. Philip Mauro. If the reading of this book shall bring to any struggling soul helpful information concerning our common Enemy, we shall be doubly repaid for the labour of its preparation. We send it forth saturated with prayer. C. F. W. _Madisonville, Ky._ Contents I. THE PROBLEM OF EVIL 11 II. THE ORIGIN OF EVIL 16 III. LUCIFER 20 IV. DEVIL--SATAN--SERPENT--DRAGON 24 V. DIABOLUS--DEMONIA--ABADDON-APOLLYON 28 VI. THE DEVIL A "BLOCKADE" 31 VII. THE GREAT MAGICIAN 34 VIII. THE ROARING LION 37 IX. AN ANGEL OF LIGHT 41 X. THE SOWER OF TARES 46 XI. THE ARCH SLANDERER 50 XII. THE DOUBLE ACCUSER 54 XIII. SATAN A SPY 58 XIV. THE QUACK DOCTOR 62 XV. THE DEVIL A THEOLOGIAN 66 XVI. THE DEVIL A THEOLOGIAN (_Continued_) 71 XVII. THE DEVIL'S RIGHTEOUSNESS 75 XVIII. THE WORLD'S TEMPTER 80 XIX. THE CONFIDENCE MAN 84 XX. THE TRAPPER 89 XXI. THE INCOMPARABLE ARCHER 93 XXII. THE FATHER OF LIARS 96 XXIII. THE KINGSHIP OF SATAN 100 XXIV. THE DEVIL'S HANDMAIDEN 105 XXV. THE ASTUTE AUTHOR 110 XXVI. THE HYPNOTIST 114 XXVII. DEVIL POSSESSION 119 XXVIII. DEVIL OPPRESSION 124 XXIX. DEVIL ABDUCTION 129 XXX. THE RATIONALE OF SUICIDE 134 XXXI. DEVIL WORSHIP 138 XXXII. VICTORY THROUGH THE VICTOR 143 XXXIII. THE ARREST AND IMPRISONMENT 148 XXXIV. THE FINAL CONSUMMATION 152 XXXV. SATANIC SYMBOL IN NATURE 156 I THE PROBLEM OF EVIL "And God saw that the wickedness of man was great in the earth, and that every imagination of the thoughts of his heart was only evil continually."--_Genesis vi. 5._ That we may appreciate this discussion, removed as far as possible from theological terminology and theories, and get a concrete view-point, the following head-lines from a single issue of a metropolitan daily will suffice: "War Clouds Hanging Low;" "Men Higher Up Involved;" "Eighty-seven Divorces On Docket;" "Blood Flows In the Streets;" "Gaunt Hunger Among Strikers;" "Arrested For Forgery;" "A White Slave Victim;" "Attempted Train Robbery;" "Kills Wife and Ends Own Life;" "Two Men Bite Dust;" "Investigate Bribery." This fearful list may be duplicated almost every day in the year. Our land is deluged with crime, without respect to person or place; its blight touches all circles from the slum to the four hundred. Wealth and poverty, culture and ignorance, fame and obscurity, suffer alike from this Pandora Box scourge. The march of history--the pilgrimage of the race, has enjoyed but little respite from tears and blood. Those who strive to maintain a standard of purity, righteousness, and honour, are beset by strange, powerful, intangible influences, from the cradle to the grave. The child in swaddling clothes has a predisposition to willfullness, deception, and disobedience; paroxysms of passion and anger are manifested with the slightest provocation. Notwithstanding the barriers thrown up by the home and society; the incentives and assurances for noble, industrious living, the dykes are continually giving way, so that police power and the frowning walls of penal institutions are insufficient to check the overflow. The Church of God, with its open Book, ringing out messages of life and hope at every corner; the object lessons on the "wages of sin," sweeping in full view before us, like the reel-film of a motion picture--do not seem to lessen the harvest of moral shipwreck. According to some recent police records and statistics, only about one-half of the country's criminals are apprehended; if this is true of those who violate the law, a much smaller per cent. of those who break the perfect moral law, as related to domestic and religious life, are ever exposed. When these facts are considered, the perspective for the reign of righteousness is lurid and hopeless. The country has been amazed, recently, at the revelations of how municipal and national treasuries are being looted by extortion, extravagance, and misrule, on the part of men holding positions as a sacred trust. Civilization fosters and maintains a traffic which has not one redeeming feature; besides killing directly and indirectly more men daily than were blown up in the battle-ship _Maine_. Let us view the problem of evil from another angle: a writer on the subject of food supplies says the earth each year furnishes an abundant quantity of fruits, meats, cereals, and vegetables to feed all her peoples; yet gaunt famine is never entirely removed. Even in America a surprising per cent. of our people are underfed and underclothed. "Fifty thousand go to bed hungry every night in New York City," declares a professor of economics. The same ratio obtains in other large cities of our land. Scenes of pinching poverty occur within a few blocks of the most wanton luxury and extravagance. One lady spends fifty thousand dollars--enough to satisfy all the hungry--on one evening's entertainment. Oranges rot on the Pacific coast by car-loads, when the children of the Ghetto scarcely taste them. Nature fills her storehouses, and tries to scatter with a prodigal hand, but her resources are cornered and controlled by a criminal system which revolves around the "almighty dollar"--the root of all evil. Are we to conclude that man's free agency is responsible for this moral monstrosity? Or, to be theologically particular, shall we say, free agency dominated by an innate disposition to evil: human depravity, original sin, the carnal mind? Allowing the fullest latitude to the free moral agency of the race; allowing the evil nature, like the foul soil producing a continuous crop of vile weeds, to produce an inexorable bent, or predisposition to sin, operating on man's free agency--have we a full and sufficient explanation of the presence and power of Evil? The carnal mind is enmity with God, not subject to His laws; but the carnal mind is in competition with a _human_ nature, wherein are found emotions and sentiments that are far from being all sinful: sympathy, tenderness, benevolence, paternal and filial love, sex-love, and honesty. Again, we rarely find environment as an unmixed evil. Notwithstanding these hindrances the press almost daily has details and delineations of crimes so fearful and shocking that no trace of the human appears. Frequently we hear of a man, who has committed some dreadful outrage, personified as "beast," "fiend," "inhuman," etc. A young man in his teens, wishing to marry, but being under age and without sufficient means, decided that if he could dispose of his father, mother, brother, and sister--the farm and property would all be his, then, unmolested, could consummate his matrimonial plans. Whereupon, armed with an axe, at the midnight hour, he executes his "fiendish" plot. Another man, with a young and beautiful wife, and the father of two bright children, becomes infatuated with a young woman in a distant state; he woos and wins her affections; he returns home to arrange "some business matters" on the day preceding the wedding. This business matter was to dispose of his wife and children, which he did; on the following night, led to the marriage altar an innocent, unsuspecting girl. A young minister commits double murder, and on the following day enters his pulpit and preaches from the text: "Let the words of my mouth, and the meditations of my heart, be acceptable in Thy sight, O Lord." These cases are actual occurrences, mentioned for emphasis only, that the problem of evil may be studied from life. These examples prove conclusively that the problem goes deeper than human depravity or free agency; both are accessories--conditions, binding cords, as it were, but the jarring stroke comes from a mightier hand. The unregenerated heart has been called a "playground," and a "coaling station" for the headmaster of all villainies. It was more than wounded pride and vanity that propagated the scheme of Haman, whereby a whole nation was to be destroyed at a single stroke. Vengeance and hate are terrible passions, but only as they are fanned by the breath of an inhabitant of the Inferno can they go to such extremes. It was more than a desire to crush out heresy that could instigate a "St. Bartholomew's Day," then sing the Te Deum after the bloody deed was accomplished. We shall endeavour in the subsequent pages to throw a few rays of light, in obscure corners, on the problem of evil through its multiform phases and ramifications. II THE ORIGIN OF EVIL "And the great dragon was cast out, that old serpent, called the Devil, and Satan, which deceiveth the whole world: he was cast out into the earth, and his angels were cast out with him."--_Revelation xii. 9._ It requires but a casual survey of this problem to reach a conclusion that its hideousness cannot be explained by any other hypothesis than the power of an invisible Personality. When we scrutinize the footprints of the race, it will be found that progress has been along a dark, slimy trail; the infidels and philosophers who are loud in their boastings of inherent goodness will have difficulty in reconciling this fact. All who think are confronted with an ever-recurring question--yea, exclamations: why do such things happen? What meaneth these barbarities, ravages, cruelties? Why so much domestic discord, ending in ruin--so many suicides? Why do men and women hurl themselves over the precipice of vice and deadly indulgences--when even a novice might easily see the inevitable? For a parallel we are reminded of an incident in war: log-chains were used when the cannon-ball supply was exhausted; lanes the width of the chain length were mowed through the ranks of the opposing army. These chasms of death were closed up each time, only to be cut down again by the next discharge. The pathway of ruin is thronged--the "broad road" is easy; however, there is something stranger than this utter blindness: the victims laugh and shout on this highway, paved as it is by the macadam of crushed humanity. Now, can there be found a rationale for this dreadful twist in human affairs--this seeming unfathomable conundrum? We cannot believe that God would create a "footstool" in which sin, suffering, and misery were to abound; no such provision could have been in the divine plan. In the Word of God alone we find the explanation of it all. The Word gives an unmistakable account of an insurrection in heaven: "Michael and his angels fought against the dragon, and the dragon fought and his angels, and prevailed not." This strange warfare was inaugurated by the great archangelic leader. This "war in heaven" could have but one ending: the complete overthrow of the disturber and his followers. They were cast out, and are, beyond a doubt, swarming around this sin-blinded planet--invisible, yet personal and all but omnipresent. When we remember that one-third of the angelic population of heaven cast their lot with this chieftain, his strength and personality can be somewhat understood. It is written: "The tail (influence) of the dragon drew the third part of the stars (angels) of heaven, and cast them down to the earth." In their relation to heaven, the dragon and his angels met with irremediable ruin; now, defeated, humiliated, maddened, doomed, this fallen archangel and his innumerable myrmidons are filling the whole earth with every curse that can be conjured up by their superior, supernatural intelligence. There can be no room to doubt the truth of this hellish propaganda, as he is called the "god of this world." It must be kept clearly in mind that the powers of darkness can, in no sense, mean an ethereal, impersonal spirit of evil--or perverseness of weak human nature; but rather a Being who rules and commands legions upon legions of subjects--_demons_, each of them endowed with all the powers and gifts possessed when they were ministering emissaries of God. They are now "the angels which kept not their first estate." We have no way to estimate the size of this satanic army, marshalled for the destruction of the race and the overthrow of Christ's kingdom. However, we read in the tenth chapter of Revelation that two hundred million were turned loose in the earth at one time. Ten thousand were in the country of the Gadarenes when the Master entered there; no wonder the entire land was kept in terror, even though their incarnation seemed to have been limited to one man living in a graveyard. Seven demons were cast out of one woman. We should keep in mind the distinction between "the devil" and demons; there is but one _Devil_, but the demons are swarming the length and breadth of the whole earth. Just as God directs His angels in ministeries of righteousness, so this god of darkness directs his angels to do his nefarious will. There are feats so daring and important that the Devil, it seems, will not trust to his underlings. He engineered in person the temptations of the Master; he entered the heart of Judas, and caused him to sell his Lord, then commit suicide. The Bible undoubtedly teaches that Satan and his cohorts, having access to our fallen natures (which became so through his contribution of "forbidden fruit"--his great triumph in the Garden), are inciting this world to all the crimes known to our criminal dockets. Think of the train wreckers, rapists, incendiaries, white slavers, riots, strikes, grafters, gamblers, etc.; and as Paul has catalogued them: "unrighteousness, fornication, wickedness, maliciousness, envy, deceit, malignity, whisperers, backbiters, haters of God, despiteful, proud, boasters, inventors of evil things, disobedient to parents, covenant breakers, without natural affection, implacable, unmerciful." No one can consider this long, gruesome list of iniquities without a feeling that they originated, somehow, in the realm of supernatural darkness. The worst things that can be said of fallen humanity is its availability and susceptibility to the machinations of this past master of the Pit, whose only ambition is to rob the blood of its purchase possessions by wrecking the souls for whom Christ died. Our sinful nature responds to his touch; the wonderful gamut of the soul is capable of being swept its entire length by his skill. A master player on God's greatest instrument--His masterpiece. All the fearful deeds committed seem to be acts of volition, and they are; but in the dark background lurks another superior will responsible for the initiative. III LUCIFER "How art thou fallen from heaven, O Lucifer, son of the morning! How art thou cut down to the ground, which did weaken the nations!"--_Isaiah xiv. 12._ "And the third angel sounded, and there fell a great star from heaven, burning as it were a lamp."--_Revelation viii. 10._ "And the fifth angel sounded, and I saw a star fall from heaven unto the earth; and to him was given the key of the bottomless pit."--_Revelation ix. 1._ It is reasonable to believe that all intelligent beings are morally free; and if free, are on probation. Intelligence, will-power, free agency, and probation are logically inseparable, regardless of place or environment. Without question, in the natural world this is true, and therefore must be true in the spiritual world. That men, angels, archangels, and redeemed spirits never attain a state of character beyond the possibility of free choice is a most fearful responsibility. But for the imperialism of intelligent will, the _fall of angels_ is unreasonable, improbable, impossible. Just how temptation can assail the inhabitants of heaven--the land, we are told, "where the wicked cease from troubling and the weary are at rest"--is beyond all human comprehension. Startling as this truth appears to be, the Bible teaches it in unmistakable language. "Lucifer, son of the morning," an archangel, a great being, created in holiness, standing near the Throne of God. His name means "light bearer," indicative of his glorious office. We can scarcely imagine such honour, such power, such distinction. Just what the high-calling of "light bearer" was, as it was performed under the highest commission in the universe, the Book fails to tell us; but the office of Lucifer was surely the peer of Michael or Gabriel, if not above them in rank. Brilliancy and splendour radiated from his person. May we dare, not altogether by the imagination, to venture into that remote, prehistoric time when the Second Person of the Trinity--the Anointed One--the Logos, a being of perfection, made in the image of the invisible God, became a Manifestation. That One of whom "the whole family in heaven and earth is named"; sharing the glory and honour equally with the Father, on a throne in the heavenlies. Milton and others believe that the presence of this Manifestation aroused in Lucifer a consuming spirit of ambition and envy; he at once aspired to the place and power which God reserved for His only begotten Son. We get still another side-light on the personality of Lucifer, when we consider his gigantic scheme. Aaron Burr planned the overthrow of his country, and dreamed of rulership; such a vision were impossible in the mind of any but a master of assemblies--an empire builder. Lucifer saw himself a ruler above that of a Creator, as "all things were made by Him." No wonder the inspired exclamation concerning him: "How art thou fallen, O Lucifer." When the climax of his overthrow came, he "fell like lightning out of heaven." The honourable cognomen is now lost forever; the glory of holiness has given place to the dishonour of despair. In the language of the poet, he "preferred to rule in hell rather than serve in heaven." This light bearer of Paradise is still a prince, but in the dark regions of endless woe; "ruler of the darkness of this world." This archangel who felt himself capable of heavenly authority finds an easier task here below. Speaking to the Master, hear his presumption and audacity, "all these things (the kingdoms of the world, and the glory of them) will I give thee, if thou wilt fall down and worship me." What was the condition named? The restoration of what he had lost: that the Son of God pay him homage and obeisance. Baffled in this crowning stroke, he slunk away only to study the vantage more discreetly, reinforce, and reassert. Let us keep in mind that intelligence and personality are not affected by the status of character; magnetic power and influence over others are not lost when the life is wholly given over to evil. Piety and holiness may be displaced by treachery and hate, but the force of personality remains. If any change takes place, the individual becomes more subtle and more insidious in schemes to further selfish interests. If a righteous man, endowed with unusual powers, fall into a life of sin, he carries over into his wickedness all his former gifts and faculties--nothing is lost. This proposition enables us to further appreciate the marvellous capabilities of the fallen Lucifer. Besides the Trinity, there are none superior in the universe. God allows His enemies, both men and devils, to continue a proprietary control of their talents, whether they be one or ten. There will be no devestments until the last shifting of the scene. When we remember all the attributes, previous advantages, and present opportunities of the greatest of all apostates, the conundrum of human actions, individually and nationally, begins slowly to unravel. The fight is not alone with men in sin, but with the "prince of the powers of the air." When Lucifer rebelled and met the just rebuke of God's wrath, all his glory, power, and brilliancy became demonized. Then, through all the millenniums there has been not one hour of relaxation; no armistice for the invisible warfare. Just as saints grow in faith, vision, and divine illumination, devils sink lower and lower; but at the same time develop in skill and efficiency by a continual application of their debased energies. It is therefore reasonable to believe that our "common Enemy" is far more formidable than the day he was cast into the earth. Our ability to encounter him successfully becomes a more hopeless struggle with the passing days. If, in the days of Paul, it were expedient to have on the "whole armour of God" to meet him, nothing short of "all the fullness of God" is the paramount need to-day. IV DEVIL--SATAN--SERPENT--DRAGON "And there was war in heaven: Michael and his angels fought against the dragon; and the dragon fought and his angels, and prevailed not; neither was their place found any more in heaven. And the great dragon was cast out, that old serpent, called the Devil, and Satan, which deceiveth the whole world: he was cast out into the earth, and his angels were cast out with him."--_Revelation xii. 7-9._ Names were significant in Bible times; they are given to-day at random, but then names were indicative of character. When character changed, the name changed: Jacob to Israel; Saul to Paul, etc. While the subject of these pages remained the holy, shining light bearer of heaven, he was Lucifer, but that name was lost to him forever. So varied were his passions, characteristics, and powers that must be known by appropriate names, and each, as given, designates some phase of his multiform personality. _Devil._ Not only did Lucifer lose name and character; he exchanged a brilliant, glorious external appearance (to eyes that penetrate the invisible) for one ugly, loathsome, beastly. If language can be interpreted literally, the eye of inspiration and revelation sees him a _Devil--sair_ in the Hebrew, "hairy one," "he goat," etc. The he goat, in the Bible, stands for all that is low and base. Those who partake of the _sair_ nature, in the Last Day, are called _goats_. He divided the sheep from the goats. God teaches us spiritual lessons in all nature, especially by the animal kingdom, and as the goat is a synonym for the lowest instincts of the animal; we find a being created in the highest realm of spiritual life sinking to the lowest level of brute life. If no further delineation were given--no other name than Devil--the fall was from one extreme to the other. This cognomen carried further has a second meaning: _spoiler_, one whose touch soils and besmirches, rearranges; bright spots are smeared with black soot; flowers with sweet odour, after his blight passes over them, send out a stench; hearts of purity are defiled and debauched; faces of beauty become marred and ugly. Whenever and wherever it serves his purpose, cosmos becomes chaos. He is a spoiler. _Satan._ In this familiar title we see him in the character rôle which dominates all his actions. As Satan he is the _hater_. Of all the evil passions of the soul, hate is the most terrible. As manifested in human relationships, the hater is a murderer. Somehow hate seems to be a resultant of wrath, malice, envy, jealousy, and revenge. Hatred in the bosom of the weak or cowardly affects only its possessor; but hatred burning in the soul of one who is strong and courageous, nothing belonging to the object of his hatred is secure: life, personal property, or reputation. We want carefully to note the full significance of hatred; then place beside it the one who hates--yes, as no other being in all the universe can hate. He is the father of haters; the tragedies of all kinds, filling the world with terror, because of murders, bomb explosions, incendiaries, poisonings, are but the scattered rays reflected and deflected from this full orb of hate as he revolves in his sphere of darkness. Satan hates God, hates the Holy Ghost, but the full force of his hate, of necessity, is directed towards the _Son_ of God, his rival for place and power. The supreme work of the Son was the Atonement; now, the interest and anxiety of heaven has been transferred to this planet. The supreme triumph of the Second Person of the Trinity was accomplished on the Cross where He paid the price of human redemption. His energies are now directed to the breaking down of all that was accomplished on the Cross. Every movement, every motive, every virtue, coming directly or indirectly from the merits of the Atonement, become at once the object of satanic hatred. Therefore every inch of territory conquered by the gospel propaganda was and is a victory over his hateful protest. _Serpent._ At the very suggestion of this title our nature recoils. The "nachash," and "zachal," mean "_fearful_"--"_creeper_," therefore a fearful creeper. The snake is the most repulsive and dangerous of all reptiles. There is a strange antipathy about a snake; his nature is so still, so sneaking, so oily; the appearance of one produces an involuntary shudder. Who has not felt the disgust at seeing men and women--"charmers"--take a number of the sleek, slimy monsters from a cage, and wind them around arms, neck, and body? The horror felt towards the snake is not an accident; it was in the guise of a serpent the downfall of the race was accomplished. Men and women who are subtle, smooth, deceitful, treacherous, secretive are called "snakes in the grass." Their plans and movements are under cover; they strike or sting from an hidden covert. The serpent is synonymous with the hiss, the blazing eye, the forked tongue, the poison; once it catches the eye of a bird the poor thing may wail and flutter, but it is powerless to escape. The bird is drawn into the jaws of death by a strange magnetism. This enemy of God and race is a serpent, slipping cautiously, noiselessly through all the dark, tangled mysteries about us. No one can fathom or interpret his cunning movements; we are stung, poisoned, charmed, fastened in the slimy coils, and yet do not know it. We have most to fear from the enemy who operates in the dark. This fallen archangel is never so dangerous as when acting in the personification of a serpent. _Dragon._ In the Hebrew it is "tannoth," _howler_--_jackal_; making a noise like the howling jackal in the wilderness. Again we are appalled at this title. The dragon is represented as a monstrous animal having the form of a serpent, with crested head, wings, and tremendous claws; ferocious and dangerous. The Scriptures have appropriated this fabulous monster--believed to have existed in days of mythology as the most dreaded creature on land or sea--to enforce and emphasize the danger of him who seeks our destruction. He is called the "great red dragon"--or fiery dragon, howling like a vicious jackal. It was in this peculiar manifestation that he stood before the woman and sought to destroy the Man Child as soon as He was born; then cast a flood after her as she fled from his presence. The dragon incarnates himself, and King Herod at once seeks to destroy the infant Jesus (Matt. ii.; Rev. xii. 1-5). V DIABOLUS--DEMONIA--ABADDON-APOLLYON "Then shall he say also unto them on the left hand, Depart from me, ye cursed, into everlasting fire, prepared for the devil and his angels."--_Matthew xxv. 41._ "And they had a king over them, which is the angel of the bottomless pit, whose name in the Hebrew tongue is Abaddon, but in the Greek tongue hath his name Apollyon."--_Revelation ix. 11._ We now desire to analyze more minutely the Greek names Diabolus and Demonia; reference was made to this distinction in a former chapter. In the Authorized Version the two names are often translated or rather _used_ interchangeably; devil for demon, and vice versa. We read of a "legion of devils," "seven devils," "cast out devils," "possessed with devils," etc. Technically--literally translated, these statements are incorrect. Demonia should never read devil--but _demon_; diabolus always means, not a devil, but _the Devil_. _Diabolus._ This name designates him more as to his ruling and authority than to the elements of his character. We have noticed already the meaning of Devil, but from the original word we get more explicit meaning as to his rank of authority. As Lucifer we do not know his ruling rank, but in his lost estate he ranks as Commander-in-chief. Whatever we may say of him, the prefix, "arch," designating his angel rank, can be logically attached: archspoiler--arch-deceiver--archaccuser--archslanderer, etc. However, if accurately defined, diabolus means _Calumniator_--archcalumniator; a propagator of calumny. Acting in the capacity of calumniator, he seeks out and defames the innocent. He sends out a million rumours daily which would be, if tangible, cases for libel in any court. _Demonia._ A demon--a fallen angel--evil spirit, an imp. Literally, a _shade_--a dark spot, moving as noiselessly and rapidly as a shadow. The many references in the New Testament to "devil," and "devils," should always be _demons_; the great multitude, so often found in one place, come from the innumerable concourse which constitute the "powers of darkness." Shadow spirits, men and women who are controlled by these dark, shadowy imps, "love darkness rather than light because their deeds are evil." The transformation, as we learned, which took place with Lucifer was just as great and radical with his angel followers; the difference was only that of degree of rank. _Abaddon-Apollyon._ We have coupled the Hebrew and Greek names together, as each means exactly the same. We call the attention of the reader to the variety of names, all of which are so nearly alike, but convey a significant difference. Abaddon-Apollyon means _destroyer_. He has been discussed as a "spoiler," but one who destroys carries the work farther than the spoiler. As Abaddon or Apollyon he is the king of the abyss, or "Bottomless Pit," and when he appears it is with purpose and equipment for destruction. Just as God sent the "Destroying Angel" throughout Egypt, bringing a curse upon Pharaoh for his hardness of heart, this mighty messenger of the Abyss visits his destruction wherever and whenever he finds, not the absence of the typical blood upon the door, but when he finds it, or any evidence of allegiance to the One whose sacrificial blood he seeks to destroy. As Abaddon-Apollyon he assumes the part of Finisher of his task; when we see him a _destroyer_, we have a full-sized photograph--leaving out not a single line of countenance, or a single character or attribute of his composite nature. He may soil, spoil, deceive, traduce, accuse, slander, wound, etc., but the ultimate aim is destruction. "When sin is finished it bringeth forth death." We see how the two great Rivals stand over against each other in their respective spheres: "For this cause the Son of God was manifested, that He might destroy the works of the devil." With the same degree of purpose, the Devil seeks to destroy the work of the Son of God. The Devil seeks to destroy truth, righteousness, virtue, religion, hope, faith, visions of God, power of the Blood, thoughts of eternity and heaven. Every beautiful, holy thing on earth he would destroy, leaving behind only black, charred cinders where once were the flowers of Eden. Just as he destroyed the earthly Paradise in the long ago, so he would blot from our hopes and aspirations the Paradise of the soul. His ambition and supreme joy would be to turn this world over to God blighted and wrecked by his finishing touches, while hell echoed with triumphant shouts--an infernal jubilee. Abaddon-Apollyon: archdestroyer. VI THE DEVIL A "BLOCKADE" "Wherefore we would have come unto you, even I Paul, once and again; but Satan hindered us."--_1 Thessalonians ii. 18._ "But the prince of the kingdom of Persia withstood me one and twenty days; but, lo, Michael, one of the chief princes, came to help me."--_Daniel x. 13._ We find another striking interpretation couched in the title of devil. The Church in its organization is called _militant_, because it is engaged in a moral and religious warfare. The writings of Paul bristle with military terms, as two mighty armies are contending and contesting for dominion. Each army is fighting under a leader; the surging campaign has changed its base of operation--the battle-field has been transferred from heaven to this planet. The rivalry between Christ and Satan has, many times, changed _modus operandi_, but the spirit of the contest and the end--all for which they contend--change not. The title-word of this chapter is not a Bible term; we appropriate and accommodate it because of its military meaning. Strictly in keeping with the use of terms, the "blockade" belongs to naval operations; but any movement, reconnoitre, or countermarch, which interferes, hinders, or hedges up the way of progress, is a blockade. A campaign ends in failure because of obstructions thrown up, access to base of supplies cut off, reinforcements thwarted in reaching the scene of activities, etc., convey the idea set forth in the key Scriptures used giving emphasis to the chapter heading. The Apostle Paul had all the advantages of equipment; his intellectual attainments the very best; he was a recognized leader of men, a chosen vessel of the Lord, and full of the Holy Ghost. No man besides the Master was more able to withstand the opposition of the "prince of darkness." Yet Satan actually prevents him from going to Thessalonica to comfort and strengthen the struggling church at that place--literally hedges up the way. A careful examination of the tenth chapter of Daniel gives us a conversation between the prophet and a "voice,"--a "vision"--having an appearance "like the similitude of the sons of men"; evidently an angel of high rank, whose mission was to encourage Daniel, but he also acknowledges that the "prince of Persia" hindered him from coming twenty days. This mighty angel, it seems, was helpless trying to reach Daniel, until Michael came upon the scene. It was Michael who led the triumphant battle against him when he was overthrown in heaven. He alone was able to meet the "prince of Persia," the _Devil_. We can, therefore, understand how successfully Satan can hinder--blockade the progress of righteousness wherever he chooses to concentrate his depraved energies. Volumes would be required to record the worthy enterprises in the Church of God which went down in failure, yet with no tangible explanation. Sudden reverses, turning the whole current of affairs, are daily happenings; revival efforts to reach certain communities, certain individuals, find insurmountable hindrances. It is the work of the "blockade." Such occurrences are generally regarded as "unfortunate coincidents" rather than a resultant of some deep-laid plans--invisible and impersonal. A baby cries at a critical moment, a dog creates an uproar, the fire-bell rings, the engine becomes disabled; landslides, swollen streams, sudden illness, and many others similar, which are never credited to the proper source or cause. The Bible concedes to Satan the dignity of being the god of this world; therefore he must of necessity control, to some extent, the physical phenomena, directing them to an advantage. We do not venture a dogmatic position as to what extent the hindrances in the physical world are due to his power; but the Bible most clearly teaches that he is an obstructionist. There are hundreds of ways and places where moral and religious blockades obtain. It would seem that in the blaze of the last century of civilization war would be impossible. Why could not our Civil War have been averted? In the retrospect, we can see how easily it might have been settled without such horror and bloodshed. The Hague with its millions of endowment is grinding away on international troubles, yet arbitration fails more often than it succeeds. But war continues, and all efforts in that direction generally meet a "stone wall of opposition." Must we conclude that all these lapses, coming in direct conflict with human weal and happiness, are just "happen-sos"? Unthinkable! "Satan hindered," declares the great apostle. "The prince of Persia withstood me twenty and one days," says the angel. VII THE GREAT MAGICIAN "Put on the whole armour of God, that ye may be able to stand against the wiles of the devil."--_Ephesians vi. 11._ "For they are the spirits of devils working miracles, which go forth unto the kings of the earth and of the whole world."--_Revelation xvi. 14._ From the earliest records of history men have lived who seemed to possess strange, occult powers. Magicians--performing miracles, setting aside, apparently, well-known physical laws. Moses met the sorcerers and magicians of Egypt in close competition. There are men to-day, on lecture platforms, performing feats which are miracles; there seems to be no visible explanation. "The hand is quicker than the eye," it is said; watches are pounded to pieces before your eyes, the fragments crammed into a gun; the gun is discharged, and the watch will be hanging on a hook, running as if nothing had happened. We once saw a man sewed up in a tarpaulin, placed in a huge trunk, and the trunk strapped securely. In less than five minutes the man came out from an enclosure where the trunk was placed; not one buckle loosened, and not one stitch in the tarpaulin broken. Cannonballs are taken from hats; live ducks, rabbits, and a dozen tin vessels are drawn from one hat in rapid succession. Cards are made to jump out of the deck when called by name. One magician laid his assistant on a table, cut off his head with a large knife, lifted the gory head by the hair and placed it on another table; then carried on a conversation with the severed head in the presence of the astonished audience. Every one knows these wonderful feats are done by some kind of magic, but for all we can see they are done; the most astute observer cannot detect the secret. The Apostle exhorts the believers to put on the whole armour of God, to be able to stand (not to be swept away or captured) against the wiles of the Devil. Then the Devil is a trickster--a sleight-of-hand performer--a magician. One of his many methods to accomplish his purpose, we find, is delusion: practicing sleights, tricks, and works of magic on the gullibility of his victims. How many unsophisticated men and boys have been robbed in daylight on a street corner by some little "game," or trick, by a sharper. Farms have been deeded away for nothing in return. Now, if we were to catalogue all the tricks of all the conjurers of all ages, we have in this evil chieftain a consummation, an embodiment of them all; he is not only a magician, but the chief of them. He incessantly seeks victims more astutely than the crook seeks the ignorant with a purpose of robbery. Observe the text says, "wiles of the devil"; not one, but many; while we are penetrating and avoiding one of his "wiles," behold, we are in the meshes of another. Human intellect cannot fathom the feats of magic performed in friendly entertainment, where every opportunity is given to examine--then how much more are we at the mercy of séances concocted, not to entertain, but to delude and capture. The astrologers, soothsayers, and magicians; the clairvoyants, ancient and modern, are insignificant compared with this great magician. Is he not superior and supernatural, possessed with unearthly powers? Are there any combinations and hidden laws of which he is unacquainted? Besides, no one is more familiar with the weaknesses and susceptibility of human nature than he. So astute and cunning are his "wiles"--tricks of magic--Paul seems to feel that only the girdings and enduements of God, giving spiritual illumination to the things invisible, can withstand them. The antithesis of the Apostle's exhortation leaves no doubt in our mind as to his meaning: if we strive and contend in our own wisdom, deception and defeat are inevitable. To be explicit, does it not look as if multitudes are under a delusion--seeing things through distorted and false lenses--when words and actions, by the best and truest people on earth, are seen as blatant hypocrisy? Does it not look as if a sleight-of-hand expert were manipulating the ideals of this pleasure-mad generation; hiding the true character and dangers which lurk in every indulgence and excess? "Presto, veto--change;" there you are, safe, satisfied, happy. "Spirits of devils," declares the seer of Patmos, "working miracles, going to the kings, and to the whole world." The arena wherein he practices his deadly delusions is the whole world. No places exempt; no peoples immune. The whole armour of God is the only sure protection. VIII THE ROARING LION "Be sober, be vigilant; because your adversary the devil, as a roaring lion, walketh about, seeking whom he may devour."--_1 Peter v. 8._ Thus far we have studied Diabolus under various titles and cognomens which deal almost exclusively with the secret side of his nature: the propaganda of hidden arts. The caption of this chapter will indicate quite a different proposition. This title swings him into full view, stripped of all deception and legerdemain. The lion walks up and down the earth, showing no quarters, making no apologies for his presence. When he roams in the forests, he is king; he allows no beast to interfere or question his rights, and none dare to do it. He kills, tears to pieces, and devours whatever he can catch; his roar strikes terror to all the forest dwellers. The lion, therefore, is noisy; his approach is with loud demonstration. There is something in noise that weakens and frightens; the keen clap of thunder, the shout of an approaching army, the blast of ram's horns, the loud proclaiming of the sword of the Lord and Gideon are historical examples of victories by noise. The lion is also powerful; no other beast has a chance in a match with him. One stroke with his mighty paw is death. He walks about conscious of his strength; an ox or a buffalo are no more his equal than a mouse contending with a cat. The lion is vicious; his going forth has one definite object--"seeking to devour." The lion presupposes that all the earth belongs to him; deer, antelopes, panthers, buffaloes, horses, cattle, etc., have no rights or possessions of which he feels under the slightest obligation to respect. The Devil does not come out _in person_: hoofs, horns, claws, bushy mane--the make-up of a lion, building up his kingdom by tearing down and destroying men and institutions opposed to him. He does these things, as a lion, by incarnating himself in men, evil combines, corrupt politics, vicious society, the liquor traffic, the White Slave system, etc. As he appropriates and embodies these institutions by entering in and possessing the men who are leaders, he no longer acts as a conjurer or snake, but a _Lion_. The fullness of the earth, and they that dwell therein, belong to him, to use, desecrate, prostitute, kill, devour, or destroy, just so he may best serve and satisfy his insatiable appetite. Cities are to be officered and governed, not for the peaceful protection of their citizens, but for plunder, boodle, and graft. Men who desire to be public servants in deed and in truth must fight "a roaring lion." The man who steps to the front with a desire to question and curtail the exploitations of the "officials," the "traffic," the "gang," places his life at once in imminent peril. Threats, black hand letters, pistols, poison, bombs, and torches are the instruments boldly used to destroy the man or men who do not believe that these human lions should be allowed to filch and devour the privileges and possessions of others. We find our "adversary, the devil, as a roaring lion, walking about, seeking whom he may devour," has three methods which he uses according to the exigencies of the case. It is first a "roar," a bluff, or bulldoze: the threat of the "boss," whether he be a political boss, an ecclesiastical boss, or a liquor boss, accomplishes wonders in coercion; it frightens and cowers the weak-kneed and backboneless. The crack of the slave-driver's whip brought the obstreperous negro into humble submission. Men in office, in pulpits, in editorial rooms, have been awed into silence by the roar of men "higher up." Then truth, righteousness, justice, and conscience are crucified; and behind the scene leering devils hold a jubilee of triumph. However, the bluff and bulldoze will not always succeed; and when these loud, but mild methods fail, the boycott is ordered. Those who can stand undaunted in the presence of roaring threats will quail before the prospects of financial ruin. Employees are discharged, patronage cut off, positions given to others, preachers asked to resign. Somehow evil is so compactly organized, wires of connection are so completely in touch with every nook and corner, that the "boss" sits quietly at the switchboard and issues orders. The "big stick" and boycott have carried many elections; municipal, state, and national; they have made merchandise of sovereignty, and bargain counters of conscience. "Your clerk must take his name off that petition, or we will withdraw our patronage;" "His wife is an active worker in the W. C. T. U.--you must discharge him," were the identical words overheard in a private office. Business and public men dread the boycott. Behind the boycott is our "adversary, the Devil." But the bluff and boycott by no means mark the limit when the self-assumed rights and privileges of the lion are questioned. Few can rise above the threat and intimidation; but the roaring activities of the boss will not always suffice. The lion in corrupt politics, in evil traffics, in priestly bigotry and intolerance, will not hesitate to stab, shoot, or burn to get rid of an offensive opposer. It is not necessary to discuss facts so well known as these; but we are investigating the sources; we want to locate the bacilli rather than examine the pustule. We wish to reiterate a previous statement; the "roaring lion" is never heard if the still fight, the oily snake methods serve to a better advantage. The Apostle's exhortation is timely: "Be vigilant, be sober"--be on the alert constantly, and be at your best, as an "adversary" who knows no boundary lines in his work of subjugation and destruction has declared war to the end. IX AN ANGEL OF LIGHT "For such are false apostles, deceitful workers, transforming themselves into the apostles of Christ. And no marvel; for Satan himself is transformed into an angel of light."--_2 Corinthians xi. 13-14._ The Devil is a person, with a great personality; but like human beings, he is not equally endowed in all the attributes of his nature. However, the Book gives us no information as to his weaknesses. He is all superlative strength; but if at any point there is a special endowed faculty that would seem to overshadow the others, it is surely manifested when Satan is transformed into an _angel of light_. The reason for this is obvious; it is a return to his old office of "light bearer." When he can effectively serve his purpose by this startling transformation--darkness to light--he is at once in a realm where he is familiar with every inch of the territory. A close observation of the signs of the times--the happenings in social and religious circles--will reveal the fact that _light_ is not only his most familiar rôle, but his favourite rôle. The world is attracted by things that are bright, beautiful, cheerful; anything that hides the sombre side of life, throws a mystic veil over its realities, and helps us to forget--whether it be books, music, lectures, or the nonentities of society--outweigh all else in the casting of accounts and in forming comparative estimates. If Satan were allowed to pose for a full sized picture of himself, just as he wishes to be seen by the children of this generation, no portrait painter could produce a specimen of rarer beauty; it would grace the walls of the most exclusive parlour, and attract special attention in any great art gallery of the world. There would be no sharp angles, no coarse, sensuous lines, no out-of-date adornment--the traditional fiery-red would not appear, but rather the most delicate tints and shades of colour. The features would be the most graceful and artistic combination of curves and circles. The "hairy one," the jackal, the snake, the lion, the shadow, the spoiler at once become as "beautiful as a dream." Amazing transformation! "The devil of to-day" is not only an apostle of sunshine, but of beauty. This world is full of beauty; and why should we not forever keep the ugly and distorted in the background? The development of the beautiful should be one of the fine arts. Think only of beauty; speak only of beauty; see only the _beautiful_; then the sinful and unlovely will disappear. An angel of light--how suggestive! As an apostle of sunshine his mission is to flood the world with light, and he does it; but observe--it is _his_ light; it neither warms nor illuminates, but for spectacular purposes it answers every demand. It reveals new standards of duty; proves the wrathful things in the Word of God to be spurious, and the old plan of salvation obsolete and unsuited to the present day needs. Such words as self-denial, crucifixion, dead to sin, judgment day, cross bearing, etc., so prominent in the New Testament, must not be given a literal interpretation. Such truths cast an unnecessary gloom over the souls of otherwise happy people. "The devil of to-day" believes that ethical culture should be the slogan, the watchword, the shibboleth of every pulpit and rostrum. Religion without refinement is absurd; the esthetic taste should be looked after more than belief in some abstract Bible doctrine; then the race would be free from the bondage of creed and fear. True religion is nothing more than a just appreciation of art, literature, science, philosophy, and nature. God is in all these things rather than some musty, stereotyped statement of faith. He further believes it is a waste of energy for women to be organizing into societies to study and help conditions among the slums or heathen lands, and urging upon the hard worked people to pay a tenth of their income to support missionaries who are better fed and housed than themselves. Far better devote the time to social clubs, book circles, euchre and bridge parties, and dressing properly. We want to call attention again to a truth often overlooked: the Devil and demons are never satisfied in a disembodied state; when they cannot enter the souls of men, they seek something else. They will enter a swine when there is nothing better available. We believe "the prince of the air" can wield a powerful influence, unincarnated, _in the air_, but he schemes and works best when he can possess and direct intelligent flesh and blood. Just now the machinery of the Church and all the auxiliaries are devoting their energies to various branches of social service; this is good, Christlike, and necessary; the point we raise, germane to this subject, is not the work, but the abuse of the idea: social service and humanitarianism are not religion. They are the fruits of the Good Samaritan spirit in the world, but they cannot take the place of personal relationship to God. "Though I give my body to be burned, and all my goods to feed the poor," says Paul, "it profiteth me nothing" without love--divine love. The angel-of-light gospel places the emphasis on works without faith. Love the world, enjoy its lusts and allurements, disregard all Puritanic ideals of life, be a part of all worldliness--but be kind, cheerful, optimistic, generous, benevolent: help humanity. "Pay the fiddler," then dance as you please. Do penance when your conscience lashes you; but buy indulgences by works of supererogation. "On with the dance, let joy be unconfined." A concrete example will illustrate the proposition before us, and also reveal the power of polished, cultured emissary of "sunshine and smiles." The little city had a population of about fifteen hundred people; there were four churches of nearly equal strength. Each congregation had a large flourishing organization of young people. Scarcely any worldliness obtained--dancing and card playing rarely ever. The pious, consecrated young people attracted no little attention. Finally there came to the place a young woman fresh from college and conservatory as teacher of music and delsarte. She was an adept at all the niceties of modern society; things took on new colour at once. The work began with a literary club, then cards, then the dance. She was beautiful and magnetic; in six months the "stupid meetin's" of the League and Christian Endeavour were abandoned for things more exhilarating. The religious foundation which had been crystallizing for years among the simple hearted boys and girls gave place to the gayeties imported from the classic circles of city and college life. She moved among them "an angel of light." X THE SOWER OF TARES "The kingdom of heaven is like a man that sowed good seed in his field: but while men slept, his enemy came and sowed tares among the wheat and went away."--_Matthew xiii. 24-25._ "The field is the world; the good seed are the children of the kingdom; but the tares are the children of the wicked one; the enemy that sowed them is the devil."--_Matthew xiii. 38-39._ The parable of the Sower is one of common-sense appeal; the sensible farmer sows only good seed. The growing of tares among the wheat is not in the original plan. Good seed were sown, but behold the tares! Whence came they? While the servants slept an Enemy came and sowed them. The Master gives us His own interpretation: He is the sower--the good seed are the children of the kingdom, men and women into whose hearts the Truth has entered--the converted part of the Church. The sleeping of the servants is the unwatchfulness of the Church: coldness, indifference, backslidden. The Enemy seizes the opportunity--the carelessness of Christ's servants--and sows _bad seed_. The enemy is the Devil--the Wicked One; the bad seed are the children of the Devil. Growing side by side in this world-field are the children of God and the children of the Devil. The tare, or cheat, in appearance resembles the wheat; it grows exactly the same height, and viewed casually, or at a distance, cannot be detected from the genuine. Only the threshing and sifting bring out the difference. These tares are the propaganda of the Devil, but a perfect imitation of the children of the kingdom. They make a profession, adhere to the same rules and regulations, profess and maintain, outwardly, a standard of morality, wear all the regalia--even particular about details. We observe another striking resemblance: strange as it may seem, these tares--children of the Devil--seek as their guide no books of heathen philosophy, or twentieth century atheism; they make great capital of the Bible; the ceremonies and ordinances are carried out to the letter. On a day of dress parade and review they meekly grade A 1. Such an inconsistency is so glaring as to be almost unthinkable; but the parable teaches it beyond a doubt. The Devil sows into the Church his children: _a corrupt profession of Jesus Christ_. In a former chapter we studied the Devil as a _destroyer_; and it will be remembered that in a preceding parable he came as a vulture devouring the seed; now he seeks to further weaken and hinder by adulteration. While continuing the battering-ram process from without, a reversed method is used; he scales the ramparts and places his cohorts on the inside, and, wherever possible, assumes leadership in a campaign of self-destruction. We are amazed at such audacity, but the Master, who is a rival in the field, has illuminated the parable for us. There is a note of optimism ringing out in the land to the effect that the day of triumph is at hand; doors are opening, walls are crumbling, conservative nations are studying our religion, municipalities are being renovated, higher standards in public life are demanded, the Church is lifting the race out of superstition and prejudice--we are about to see a "nation born in a day." What does it mean? It means that Satan is being chained--defeated, etc. This sounds good and plausible; but a closer inspection will reveal, not a retreat, not an armistice, not a victory, but a _change of base_. Twenty years ago a leading teacher said: "Unless the signs of the times fail, the true Church of Christ is about to enter upon the most serious struggle of her history. She is no longer called merely to fight an open foe without, but as Dr. Green, of Princeton, says, 'the battle rages around the citadel,' and she is forced to fight the traitors within. The real enemy is to be found on the inside." If such a condition were true then, what is it to-day, since the last two decades have been the most revolutionary in the history of the Church on the line of skepticism and advanced thought? The _Free Thinkers' Magazine_ recently had this to say: "Tom Paine's work is now carried on by the descendants of his persecutors; all he said about the Bible is being said in substance by orthodox divines, and from chairs of theology." Another writer observes: "No need of Bridlaughs and Ingersols wasting time preaching against the early chapters of Genesis, sneering at the story of temptation, cavilling at the record of long lives, denying the confusion of tongues, doubting if not denying the deluge, when Christian ministers, on account of their official position, are doing the same work more effectually." "Freedom of thought in religion," said an orthodox preacher at Tom Paine's one hundredth anniversary, "just what he stood for, is what most of us have come to. In his own day vilified as an atheist--to-day he is looked upon as a defender of just principles of faith." There is a wide range of opinions found in the growing crop of tares: some are literalists, touching Biblical interpretation, getting the minutia of husks, but rejecting the kernel--the envelope, but missing the message; others remain in the Church, preach a gospel shelter under her roof--eat her bread, but deny the supernatural _in toto_. Few, if any, are honest enough to step out. The Devil prefers his _cheat_ to grow in the same soil prepared for the wheat. No place is so wholesome and convenient for the children of the Devil as inside the Church of God. Why is not the wrath of God poured out on the children of the Devil who have assumed place and power in His Church? The same processes used for the removal of the tares would injure and uproot some of the wheat. There is now no remedy; at an unguarded moment the harm was done. The Enemy continues to enter every available door, sowing, sowing, sowing--beside all waters. Not until the angelic reapers thrust in their sickles for the harvest will the children of the Devil cease to occupy, influence, and control. XI THE ARCH SLANDERER "For God doth know that in the day ye eat thereof, then your eyes shall be opened, and ye shall be as gods, knowing good and evil."--_Genesis iii. 5._ "But put forth thine hand now and touch all that he hath, and he will curse thee to thy face."--_Job i. 11._ It is the first scene of the human drama; the staging is in an earthly Paradise; perfection is written on everything animate and inanimate. With but one restriction man roams through Edenic beauties, a being "good and very good," happy and holy. His communion with God is unbroken; fountains of love are opened in his heart as he beholds the beautiful mate at his side. Our wildest imaginations cannot estimate the glories of that life-morning; but behold the Serpent. He utters his first words in the scheme of ruin, and it is a slander against God. "Aha, He knows if you eat you will be like He is--knowing all things, be as gods; He is not treating you fairly; the case is misrepresented. You will not die, but you will be wise. Why does He keep back such privileges from you?" As a result of this slander, the Paradise is lost. Flowers, fruits, peace and plenty are exchanged for weeds, briers, toil, sweat, suffering, death. Again we find his impudent presence on the day Job is offering sacrifices. Reading between the lines, we can imagine a conversation like this: "You here? You are looking for some pretense to discount My people; you say none are good--all hypocrites. What do you think of My servant Job? What have you to say about him?" "Oh, of course," says the slanderer, "you have him hedged around--blessing him continually. It pays Job to be good; just take away your special care of his material welfare and see--he will curse Thee to Thy face." An artist once painted a picture of the human tongue in a way to represent his conception of how the "tongue of slander" should appear. It was long, coiled like a serpent, tapering at the end into a barbed spear point; from each of the papilla, scarcely visible, was a needle point, from which oozed a green, slimy poison. The slandering tongue is "a fire, a world of iniquity--it defileth the whole body--it is set on fire of hell." The slanderer is no respecter of persons; he rakes and scrapes the uttermost parts of the earth for victims: king and peasant, rich and poor, priest and prophet; living or dead suffer alike when once this vile, inhuman spirit touches them. Bacon said: "Calumny crosses oceans, scales mountains, and traverses deserts with greater ease than the Scythian Abaris, and, like him, rides on a poisoned arrow." The winds of the Arabian desert not only produce death, but rapid decomposition of the body; so doth slander destroy every virtue of human character. The cloven-hoof slanderer, like the filthy worm, leaves behind a trail of offal and stench though his pathway wind through a bower of earth's sweetest flowers. A writer has said: "So deep does the slanderer sink in the murky waters of degradation and infamy that, could an angel apply an Archimedian moral lever to him, with heaven as a fulcrum, he could not in a thousand years raise him to the grade of a convict felon." "Whose edge is sharper than a sword; whose tongue Out-venoms all the worms of Nile; whose breath Rides on the posting winds, and doth belie All corners of the world; kings, queens, and states, Maids, matrons, nay, the secrets of the grave This viperous slander enter." Iago is said to be the greatest villain in fiction or history; the revolting crimes of Herod--slaughtering the innocent--does not compare with Iago. Herod saw in the Man Child a possible rival, and blinded by jealousy and ambition, he becomes the most heartless murderer--of all times. But what was the crime of Iago? Slander! With no object in view, no advantage to gain, and too much of a coward to make an open charge, he slanders by insinuation the beautiful Desdemona until the enraged Othello strangles her to death. How can we reconcile this base passion in human character, as slander has no other avenue of expression? It is unnatural, inhuman, and hellish. The wolf and tiger devour to satisfy hunger; the vulture eats and fattens on rotting carcases, but the slanderer does neither. With the blood cruelty of a savage beast, the degraded appetite of the scavenger, the destroyed victims of fiendish passion only intensify and burn, but never satisfy the slanderer. This spirit was never born among men; its origin is the region of the damned, where hunger gnaws, thirst fires, lust arouses, revenge consumes--but satisfaction is unknown. The hot breath of slander comes from a bourne where dead hopes spring up eternal. The caption of the chapter denominates the Devil as the arch slanderer; we use it because there is no word of sufficient strength to convey the idea; "arch" fails to convey the whole truth in this case. Archangel is an intelligible term, as there are many of high order; there is, however, but One slanderer. Just as he is the "father of liars"--propagating all lies--his relation to liars does not admit of comparison. He slandered from the day of his fall; he is the father of slanderers. Whether it be circulated in the "submerged world," the quiet circles of church life, or among the "Four Hundred" of fashion--it is a deflected arrow from the one great quiver. No being--holy men, angels, or the Son of God--can escape the tongues dripping the venom of slander through the subtle incarnation of that fountainhead of every evil suggestion or insinuation. Whatever destroys happiness, creates doubt and suspicion among the people, ending in litigation, divorces, and murders, fulfills the mission of slander. The caldron from which exudes this vile stench--filling all the earth--is seething and boiling in the Bottomless Pit, or wherever the throne of his majesty--the Devil--is located. The society of earth will never be free from the poison of evil-speaking until the Archslanderer is arrested, chained, and located in the penitentiary prepared for him from the foundation of the world. XII THE DOUBLE ACCUSER "Hast not thou made an hedge about him, and about his house, and about all that he hath on every side? thou hast blessed the work of his hands, and his substance is increased in the land."--_Job i. 10._ "Now is come salvation, and strength, and the kingdom of our God, and the power of his Christ: for the accuser of our brethren is cast down, which accused them before our God day and night."--_Revelation xii. 10._ When we consider the Diabolus character--his strength and opportunity, whereby he visits his vengeance upon a weak, susceptible race, we can readily understand that his make-up would be far from complete without a continuous outflow of slander. But his courage and audacity stand out in glaring relief when we find him an Accuser. It does not require large intelligence or bravery to be a slanderer--only baseness of character--but to be an accuser, face to face with false charges, especially in the presence of One who has power over all things, reveals an impudent bravery that dazes the judgment. When questioned of God about his presence among devout spirits--as they were assembled for worship--he answered in the manner of a guilty boy: "Just going to and fro in the earth." Peter tells us that his mission of going to and fro is of seeking and devouring. He is then reminded of Job's character--how that this saint is perfect and just; Satan's blighting influence has not been able to touch and overthrow the aged Job. In his shrewd rejoinder Satan accuses God of two sins: _partiality and falsehood_. Translated into its literal meaning, the language would be about as follows: "I deny that Job is perfect; but for the protection you have thrown around him he would be as other men. His pretended piety is hypocrisy; he serves you because you have blest him with abundance; he has not fallen into sin because you have hedged him about. If you treated Job as you treat others, his holiness would soon be about as genuine as mine." Satan accuses God of protecting His servant and blessing him in material things in a special and partial manner, viz: "a respecter of persons." But the fiercest accusation is hidden in his reply to God's question, also put in the form of a question, and finished by an emphatic declaration: Job is not the man God said he was; "but put forth Thine hand and touch all that he hath, and he will curse Thee to Thy face." A being who can stand before the Lord God, of whom the hosts of heaven sing and shout--he, himself, once among the number--saying: "Holy, Holy, Holy," and accuse Him of being guilty of partiality and falsehood--what may _we_ expect from him? The Word says he accuses the saints day and night. Observe that he accuses the _saints_, those who are striving in righteousness. The man who lies, cheats in business, accumulates a fortune, and lives all the vices without apology is not an object of malicious accusation. The scandals in select circles cause only a ripple, even though the offenses occupy much space of the associated press. The principles of such affairs are often staged as heroes and heroines for the entertainment of a morbid public taste. Satan accuses the saints; the presumption is shouted from the housetops: "There is none that doeth good, no not one." The saints--every good man and woman--must at some time face charges against their moral or religious character. This hellish machination goes on day and night. It is reasonable to conclude that much of the unrest, depression, and backslidings among the people of God may be traced to this cause; innocent men and women have not only cast away their hope through rumoured accusations, but have been driven to desperation and suicide. The reader must keep in mind the suggestion made in a former chapter: that while Satan has the power by his presence of himself, or his minions, to create an atmosphere, unfathomable, impenetrable, yet surcharged with horror and dread; but his activities are seldom apart from human instrumentalities. Just as he is the arch slanderer, through the word of mouth, so is he the accuser, both of God and saints, through human personalities under his control. A flood sweeps away, or lightning destroys a man's possessions; he looks up, curses and accuses God of cruelty and injustice. Death enters the home; the mourners charge God falsely. His accusations are confined to no particular method; the one most suited to the case is used, whether self-condemnation or from another. Self-reproach, through memory and meditation, is a most powerful agency in carrying on this work. Once we begin to think on our ways--seeking to turn our steps unto the testimony of God--we face a life of sins and blunders mountain high and unsurmountable. But when faith takes wings and lifts the agonizing soul "out of the mire and clay," an everlasting reminder of the _past_ clings to us, often robbing us of peace and joy. How many Christians have grown weary and given up because of memories blackened by consequences of past sins--sins which God said, if we confess and forsake, He would "remember them against us no more forever." If the truth, which can never be revealed until the Judgment Day, could be known! Our asylums are swarming with unfortunates who have lost mental balance because of remorse and condemnation, resulting from an accusing memory. Wherever Satan is unable to lure the saints into actual transgression their life and usefulness are often destroyed by tormenting spirits accusing them day and night The Book holds out no deliverance from this scourge until the Accuser is forever cast down by the wrath of God at the final shifting of the scene. XIII SATAN A SPY "And the Lord said unto Satan, Whence comest thou? Then Satan answered the Lord, and said, From going to and fro in the earth, and from walking up and down in it."--_Job i. 7._ The spy is the most dangerous man in the army; more is he to be feared than the genius of a Napoleon or a Lee. The sphere in which he operates has no duplicate in military activities; his bravery, boldness, and daring are unexcelled. Whether he be called from the ranks, or from among the commissioned officers, his counsel and suggestions get a hearing in the highest commandery of the army. The movements of a spy are unknown even to his own corps, much less to the enemy. After receiving authority for such a perilous undertaking he is a free lance, going and coming at will. Not only does he go beyond the enemy's line, but mingles freely with them in the camp. There is nothing in his appearance to indicate who or what he is. To-day he is a civilian peddling fruits among the soldiers, or innocently driving a yoke of steers along the street or country road; to-morrow he is within the camp, dressed in their gay uniform, familiar with passwords and countersigns. Then he appears as a decrepit old woman, seeking a son who "run away to jine the solgers." In a few hours he is quietly resting or joking with the boys of his own regiment. When a spy is captured all military courtesies are set aside; he is not even allowed the honour of a court-martial; but without trial he is executed at once. It is of special interest, in view of the application to our subject, to notice the particular business of a spy. Just as his movements are unknown, so is his mission unknown. He hurries to and fro, gathering up such bits of information here and there as he deems important for the cause he represents. If he belongs to the Federal forces he appears clothed in the "butternut gray"; then by tactics of bravery and nerve he enters the Confederate gray lines. The slightest blunder is certain death. He takes a mental inventory of the whole situation, but in such a way as to attract the attention of no one. The strength of the fortifications, the size and number of the batteries, the commissary department, and the chances and probabilities of reinforcements. In a moment, under the cover of night, he fades out into the darkness and is gone. The budget of information is placed at the earliest possible moment into the war councils of his own army. Satan plays the rôle of a crafty spy; he has access, by some mysterious power, to the heart life of men. At no point of the game for immortal trophies is he so dangerous as when he can take advantage because of his secret knowledge of men's weaknesses and sins. Only a vicious degenerate can be tempted into all the crimes known to the docket of the Bible; few beings on this planet but are fortified at some point of character. They may be weak in many ways--but early training or environment have helped them to become strong in some particulars. The spy seeks to know when and where a blow may be struck in the enemy's lines, at a place of least resistance. The soul battles are exactly the same; we have no special battles where we are strong; things that might overcome another will mean nothing to us. Our battles are ever fought around the points of weak fortification; the enemy rarely, if ever, has the pleasure of shouting over our downfall from the best that is in us. The victories of athletic games--the pugilistic bouts in the sporting arena, the mortal duel with rapiers, the battle-fields where thousands fell--have been lost and won by the application of this principle. The general with his field-glass sees a weakening in the enemy's line and orders a charge; the duelist observes a shortening of breath or an awkward movement and seizes the opportunity. It is the weak link in the chain of life that breaks; sins of the lower nature--sensuality--might not appeal to some who fall an easy victim to pride, ambition, or covetousness; others who are liberal, honest to the cent, unassuming, are helpless when tempted in the realm of lower passions. We are at an incalculable disadvantage when our enemy is familiar with our vulnerable points. So long as the heart is unregenerated and unpurified by the cleansing power of the Holy Ghost, Satan has access to every nook and corner of our heart life. He enters and discovers every vulnerable and invulnerable section of the soul's fortification. The tempted and fallen are often unable to tell how it was done. "Why did you go there?" or, "Why did you do it?" Oh, so many, many times do we hear the answer: "I do not know." A friend once showed me a little iron safe in which he kept his valuable papers. This safe had a very ingenious lock; the combinations were such, and the mechanism so wonderful, that it was capable of _three hundred thousand combinations_. Why and how are sane men and women overcome? They were met at a certain place, under peculiar circumstances; met by several--a word, a smile, an argument, a pressure of the hand. How was it done? They do not know. Somehow the attack came in a way which rendered them helpless to resist. One effort failed--a dozen failed; but as often as it failed the Expert changed the _combination_, until the door yielded, and an entrance into the citadel of Mansoul was effected. _Three hundred thousand combinations._ The spy has information from within; and, therefore, the most dangerous man in the army. Satan, by his supernatural powers directing his practice and experience for several millenniums, is a crafty, sagacious spy, acquainted with all the weaknesses and emotions of the human heart. Who is equal to such an enemy? Contending alone, _no one_ on this sin-burdened footstool. XIV THE QUACK DOCTOR "Having the form of godliness, but denying the power thereof: from such turn away."--_2 Timothy iii. 5._ We do not agree with some late views of the nature of sin--that it is a physical and mental disorder: the resultant of heredity, food, soil, climate and social environment. If the root of the difficulty springs from these primary causes, the whole problem of evil could be wiped out in one generation by the application of sanitary laws and social betterment. In the Bible sin is known by several disease terms, but always such diseases as were incurable by any treatment known in those days: leprosy, born blind, deadly poison, paralytic, etc. Sin is a disease, and the whole man, body, mind, and spirit, is more or less affected therefrom; but it is, in particular, a soul malady, going deeper than human remedies can reach, whether social or medicinal. To cure this soul disease the race has sought eagerly from the day Cain and Abel built their altars. All the ramifications of civilization have had one all-absorbing desire: a readjustment of something fundamentally wrong within. This fight for an atonement with the Creator has been a long, heart-sore pilgrimage; it has painted the blackest pages of history and committed the bloodiest crimes. This human drama has been enacted in tragedy and tears. Why is it so? Because deeper than any other heart-throb is the consciousness of personal uncleanness, and the bitter anguish it has caused. The dead civilizations, on their monuments and mausoleums, have left behind, carved indelibly, one story--whether on the banks of the Nile, the Areopagus of Greece, or the land of the Montezumas--it is the story of feeling in the dark after God. They had the disease and sought for a remedy. From the days of the astrologers and soothsayers, anxious souls have been victimized by every fad, fake and fanaticism in their search for relief. The venders of pulverized snake skins and lizard tongues, in their day, found as willing a patronage as the cultured proprietors of sanitariums to-day. The long-haired man on a goods box can do a flourishing business, if he has the gift of gab to convince the crowd his stuff will _cure_. The quack doctor does not handle a variety of medicine; he knows just enough of anatomy and materia medica to make his speech sound scholarly--but his remedy, costing less than the price of one visit from a physician, will cure all the ills of the human body. Like De Soto, we are seeking the fountain of perennial youth--the elixir of life. Just as the disease of the body and a passion to live open wide the door to charlatans, fakirs, and "healers" claiming powers direct from Gabriel to Beelzebub, so the disease of the soul, and a hunger for eternal life--"deep calling unto deep"--has opened the door of the heart to the religious doctor with his cure-all prescriptions. Out from unknown depths comes the yearning for readjustment and reconciliation with God. No being, beside the Godhead, is more familiar with the secret hopes and impulses of the soul--than Satan. The long-haired quack on the street, bawling his "junk," is not half so anxious to defraud the crowd as Satan is to prescribe remedies that will not cure. His chief aspiration is to flood the land with bogus treatments which not only fail to cure, but they preempt the disease-infected spots so as to prevent the introduction of the genuine remedy. The quack doctor is, no doubt, pleased when an imaginary cure has been wrought by his wares; but Satan is filled with wrath if some of his formulas strike deeper than he anticipated, and a soul emerges from darkness unto light. This, however, does not often occur; he is too cunning to advertise to a hungry, sin-sick world that which will bring permanent relief. The beating of tom-toms by an upper Congo medicine man to drive away evil spirits has about the same efficacy as much that may be found in the esthetic circles of the world's religiosity. "A form of godliness," be it ever so beautiful and orderly, which does not seek and obtain the inner power is just another way of beating tom-toms. We look with compassion upon the poor benighted heathen woman who trots around the temple of her god one hundred times on a moonlight night; but how much improvement over her plan of salvation do we find in the blaze of twentieth century Christian enlightenment, if our religion consists of just "doing something," rather than having _faith_ in a power that saves through the impartation of the Holy Ghost? At no time in the history of the Church have we done so many things as we are doing now--all good; but observe: the Church and the world go hand in hand. It is a rare exception when an essential difference can be seen in the life and business methods of the professor and non-professor. "They will have a form of godliness," says Paul, "but deny the power." It was not a dream or hallucination which took the rich and poor, in the long ago, out from the world and caused them to give up even their lives cheerfully; it was an application of the power. They had tested the "fountain opened in the house of David for sin and uncleanness." "Oh, that fountain deep and wide, Flowing from the wounded side, That was pierced for our redemption, long ago; In thy ever cleansing wave, there is found all power to save; It's the power that healed the nations long ago." In the multitude of pretenses, makeshifts: forms, ceremonies, chantings, genuflections, ordinances, will worship, self-righteousness, "wondrous works,"--"form of godliness"--who is responsible? It is the great Quack Doctor that is deceiving the world; those who will not be dragged into sin and ruin he surfeits their lives with a "form of godliness, but deny the power" plan of salvation. XV THE DEVIL A THEOLOGIAN "Now the Spirit speaketh expressly, that in the latter times some shall depart from the faith, giving heed to seducing spirits, and doctrines of devils."--_1 Timothy iv. 1._ Theology is defined as "the science which treats of God, His existence, character, government, and doctrines," or the science of religion--a system of truth derived from the Scriptures. The caption of this article--The Devil a Theologian--jars our spiritual nerve centres. There are three things necessary to produce a theologian: experience, information, ability. From every possible view-point the Devil is preëminently qualified to formulate a system of doctrinal statements having all the earmarks of genuineness and credentials of authenticity. In our discussion of the Devil's theology we shall not, at the present, touch upon the theories and vile imaginations of demon-possessed men, but the finer phases of truth, beautifully presented by his apostles with a show of orthodox reasonableness. By the term Devil's theology--doctrines--we do not mean his beliefs--get the distinction--but what he wants us to believe. He is every whit orthodox; he believes the Old Book; he does not indorse the _new theology_, or the so-called higher learning, only as it may be turned to his advantage. The Word of God is a mighty reality to him; he has met its blazing truths, and has been burned by its power. He has millions of skeptics and doubters blindly following his delusions, but he is a believer in the "old school"; he "believes and trembles." We call attention to the term "doctrines"--therefore religious beliefs: reasonable, plausible, satisfying beliefs. What are they? First: Ritualism is Religion; when we have gone through a certain proscribed programme--whether it be a chant, reading prayers, or burning a dim light--there you are. How do we know we are religious? We have gone the rounds, said the required number of Ave Maries, counted the rosary, etc., etc., therefore the work is done. It sounds harsh to place these beautiful ceremonies, which have doubtless comforted so many hearts, in the enemy's catalogue; but the Pharisees were rigid ritualists, yet Christ denounced them as miserable hypocrites--"whited sepulchres." Anything he can get us to adopt, having a semblance of reality, yet does not save--does not deal directly with the sin question, he shouts over our delusion. He appropriates Ritualism for Religion and it becomes his doctrine. A second doctrine: Good Resolution for Regeneration. There has never been as much strenuous evangelism, of a certain quality, as we are having to-day. Great cities unite in stupendous revival effort; no expense is spared; the leading masters of assemblies are called as workers. The zeal and motives of it all are commendable; but the bane of such evangelism is this: the work stops at the resolution period. Men are brought under conviction, and the Devil at once proposes his compromise. Not until the "big meeting" closes do the convicted multitudes discover the deception. Herein is the explanation of the lethargy, depression, and utter indifference which so often obtain after a "sweeping revival." Faith is then shaken, and sometimes permanently, in the truth of a conscious, know-so salvation. If the Prodigal Son had stopped after passing a good resolution with himself he would have died at the swine pen without the knowledge of the father's love, the kiss, the robe, the ring, and the fatted calf. A sinner must not only "quit his meanness" but straighten out his meanness. Regeneration is not by the will of the flesh, the will of man, not of blood; but it is to be born of God--born from above--a new creature. Doctrines floating under the banner of evangelism which do not get believers into the kingdom must be listed with the enemy. A third doctrine: Sentiment is Salvation. We are a sentimental people; esthetic and humanitarian developments of recent years have done much to soften our barbarian instincts. If sentiment were salvation, this land would be redeemed. Many think we are rapidly becoming a saved nation; those who enjoy such reflections should stand at the entrance of any theatre on Sunday, or a pleasure garden, or a ball park; then hurry around to the entrance of the finest, best equipped church in the city for comparison. Sentiment is educated emotion. Rome used to shout over the bloody scenes in the amphitheatre; now we can weep over the unfortunate girl who goes down in spectacular glory behind the footlights. Sentiment makes us rejoice with those who do rejoice, and weep with those who weep; it moves us to deeds of charity. Satan then has no difficulty in persuading us that we are religious--spiritually redeemed; if we weep over our loved ones, our emotions are very religious. The most grief we ever witnessed at a funeral was in the home of a saloon-keeper; the dead wife and mother, a depraved opium and morphine eater; the home was utterly irreligious, but the grief was hysterical, explosive. The sacrifices of God are a broken and a contrite heart--over sins committed, producing a godly sorrow, and not a sentiment. Again, the Devil takes great delight in telling the unsaved and unchurched masses that religion is all selfishness; the poor are made to feel that the Church is the rich man's institution. Notwithstanding the efforts of God's people to reach and help the lost they are represented as mean and selfish, pretending a pious fraud, with no bread for the hungry and no helping hand for the needy. We build stately temples of worship to gratify our pride and vanity with money earned by the sweat and toil of the poor man; money that ought to be given to the poor. Judas protested against breaking the alabaster box. The church is a place for dress parade; the humble and meanly clad are not wanted. All such is malicious slander against God, His Church and His people; but as stereotyped as this may sound, it is being used effectually everywhere. If a church preaches salvation from sin, it is the poor man's best friend; but reference to the church and the preacher is often hissed in gatherings of toiling men. Unless there shall come to this land the establishment of the righteousness of Christ, as taught in His Gospel, we shall see another reign of terror; the fires of restlessness, hate, and discontent are smouldering in every shop, factory, and mine. "The Golden Age will never come until it is brought in by the Golden Rule of Christ." The Devil is busy keeping these facts from becoming known. The doctrine stated: we are in it to serve a selfish end; take away our hope of advantages, and our faith becomes religious junk. XVI THE DEVIL A THEOLOGIAN (_Continued_) One of the Devil's tactics is to make much ado about nothing. It is astonishing how sane people can be deluded over childish non-essentials. Think of the doctrine of Abstinence; at certain seasons be holy with a vengeance. It is a mortal sin to let down during certain days and moons; no meats, no riotous gormandizing, no wine, no dancing, no theatre going, when the season is holy. But are we not so commanded concerning the Sabbath day? The Sabbath day must be kept holy, but if our moral standard and relationship fall below during the week what we are supposed to make them on Sabbath, our piety is a farce. An incident will illustrate. It was a steamboat excursion; drinking and dancing were freely indulged in by the hilarious passengers. A _parson_ was among them; he danced not, neither did he look upon the wine that was red. He looked sad--_it was Lent_. One week later we beheld this same _parson_ in full evening dress gracefully waltzing with one of the lambs of his flock. Amazing spectacle! Robes of holiness to-day, with fastings and prayers; to-morrow, broadcloth, perfume, patent leathers, and arms encircling a maiden in the dizzy whirl of the dance. Paul saw such times coming and warned against them. There are many more, but we shall mention only one more: the gigantic system of saints' worship. What does this mean? Anything that diverts and absorbs the attention away from things fundamental is surely of evil origin. His fall began when he conceived hatred and jealousy of Jesus; now if he can get people to pay a part or all of their homage to Mary, or any one of the many "saints," just so the Son of God is robbed of His glory and neglected, his devilish malice is somewhat gratified. There is a long list of dead worthies who are reverenced and supplicated unto daily; but high over all is the "Virgin Mother of God." After the birth of the Saviour Mary was the wife of Joseph, and bore children as a natural mother--she was not a virgin. "Thou shalt have no other gods before me;" "Thou shalt not make unto thee any graven images--thou shalt not bow down to them." "Doctrines of Devils." Spiritual minded students of the Bible and human conduct are forced to the conclusion that the Devil is not only a wise theologian, but he is a great _preacher_; and, as we have learned, he has a mighty gospel which he preaches with effectiveness and power. He has clearly defined doctrines which he promulgates at such times and places as will best meet the desired end. But with cunning craftiness he preaches his dogmas and tenets everywhere: housetops, society parlours, centres of business, legislatures, court rooms, barrooms, and bawdy houses, as well as in pulpits. This sounds like a strange mixture: "the sacred desk" associated with such an array of evil--_ad absurdum_. If the pulpit is immune, why Paul's exhortation? Doctrines presuppose a preacher, and also an effort to gain an audience whenever and wherever possible. Yes, the Devil preaches, and if doors are barred he forces an entrance: home and foreign missions, slums, emigrants, aristocrats and sports. He has access to scores of avenues where the Gospel of Christ never enters; but under the cover of human interests he takes the field with our Lord Jesus and His ministers, offering a more beautiful, excellent, easier and successful way. As God's method of saving the world is by the foolishness of preaching, what better agency of opposition could be launched than _preaching_? Nothing. Far stronger is the expulsive than the opposing power. The most dangerous poison in the world is the kind that hides its death in a cup of sweetness; a child eats a sugar-coated pill and never recovers. Hell is peopled by the multitudes who have drunk at the Devil's fountain of soothing, satisfying poison. He keeps his deluded patrons from the fountain of cleansing by an easier way to delectable fountains, the waters of which paralyze with the chill of death. We note another very remarkable fact concerning the Devil's doctrines and his style of preaching. Christ's ministers often fail because of a lack of adaptability; "he overshot his crowd" is the comment often heard. The genius of this subject does not make this mistake; he is a past-master at adaptability; to those who have a feeble, fluttering conscience for spiritual things he has the sincere milk of the word that soothes and sustains; but for his robust followers, whom he has bound in chains stronger than those which bound Prometheus, he gives the meat of diabolism, prepared and seasoned by a skill of six thousand years' practice. Place your ear at the keyhole where his children are conducting a "revival meeting"--high carnival of sin--and hear the ideas of God, salvation, preachers, the Church, and the hereafter. This is the strong gospel referred to; the gospel that fires the masses with hate and prejudice against the only means of human redemption. Yes, he preaches, preaches, preaches, and from every nook and corner; ten messengers to one preaching the Christ; his preachers support themselves, and touch the highways and byways; his lines are gone out into all the earth, circumscribing sea and land. The Devil gets an intelligent hearing. He has a long catalogue of doctrines, but he does not believe a single one of them. We should be wise enough to eliminate them from our creed also. XVII THE DEVIL'S RIGHTEOUSNESS "Woe unto them! for they have gone in the way of Cain."--_Jude 11._ "For they being ignorant of God's righteousness, and going about to establish their own righteousness, have not submitted themselves unto the righteousness of God."--_Romans x. 3._ We are becoming, according to the canons of this world, a righteous nation; the standard of civic and commercial righteousness is elevated as never before. Sleuth-hounds are scenting every indication of misrule and running to earth evil-doers, high and low. Our cities are keeping tab rigidly on sewerage, cesspools, and outhouses; a persistent war is being waged on flies, mosquitoes, and germs of all kinds. Private citizens are everywhere organizing to coöperate with officials for public welfare. Corporation and municipal rings must answer at the bar of an outraged public conscience. Righteousness is in the air; it resounds from the pulpit, platform and press. Chautauqua specialists who have discovered some deflection in the political and social woof and warp declare, amid salutes of fluttering handkerchiefs, the righteousness of twentieth century standards. Preaching on the cardinal doctrines of the Bible has been displaced by rhetorical messages on altruism: light, ethics, mercy, cleanness, goodness. "The fatherhood of God and the brotherhood of man," with a flavour of intellectualism, is the gospel that is now being emphasized with much gusto, and never fails to solicit the indorsement of all denominations. "Be good and do good" is the _multum in parvo_ of present day righteousness. Who but a chronic faultfinder could object to this upward move, so obvious now in all directions? The world is getting kinder, more sympathetic, more charitable; creed lines are dissolving like snow under an April sun; sectarian prejudice is dying under the withering frown of new ideals. Does this not indicate a gradual leavening of the "whole lump"? The spirit of Christ, they tell us, is being adopted everywhere. He is mounting the throne of universal empire, and the time surely is not far distant when the social, political, commercial and domestic life will be regenerated by His influence. Yes--it would appear so to be; much that is done bears a Christian label; it comes in the name of Christ; but, says a writer, "it is the Christ of Bethlehem and not the Christ of the Cross." It is the human Christ and not the sacrificial--the exponent of a blood Atonement. The righteousness that has the full swing of modern religionists makes much of Christ's "example," His beautiful character and self-abandonment--"He went about doing good." Much attention is given to studying His leadership, His pedagogy, His art of public address, His humanity. His example and not His sacrifice saves the world; step by step the human Christ has displaced the Christ of Calvary; His atonement was misguided zeal. This propaganda, on the surface, is reasonable and popular; but close scrutiny will reveal a poison as dangerous as it is subtle. It leaves out the Blood; it is a glorification of Man. "Count the number of the beast, for it is the number of man." This issue is an old one; it became an entering wedge in the religious life when the first services were held after the Fall. Cain and Abel made altars; Cain piled his high with beautiful, luscious fruits of the field. No festal board ever looked more tempting, loaded with sweet smelling fruit, having variegated colours, than the altar which Cain presented to God. They were the results of his own sweat and toil; he offered them as the "first fruits." But God rejected the offering; somehow the very beauty and attractiveness of it all insulted Him. Abel's altar was smeared with blood; on top lay a limp, bleeding lamb. Nothing attractive about this picture; our esthetic nature recoils at the gore and cruelty of such an offering. Yet God graciously accepted this bloody, unsightly offering; and no doubt rained fire upon it--anyhow, Abel was justified. Why did God reject the one and accept the other? Cain and Abel alike had been taught from their infancy that "without the shedding of blood there shall be no remission of sin." By transgression man stood as an alien before God; he had forfeited divine favour. Notwithstanding, Cain boldly brought before God a bloodless sacrifice, and presumes to force Him to accept it. Through all the millenniums before Christ every approach to God must contain in the sacrifices and offerings an element which reminded God of the coming Atonement. He declared: "For the life of the flesh is the blood, and I have given it to you upon the altar to make an atonement for your soul. For it is the blood that maketh an atonement for the soul" (Lev. xvii. 11). Coming directly to the point: all this new notion of things, touching Man's religion, fast becoming prevalent is the "way of Cain," with a twentieth century touch and terminology. What is the essence of this new righteousness? what does it do? Observe, it sets aside God's estimate of man, and ignores the plan of redemption He established at the beginning in types and shadows, then consummated in the atoning death of His Son on the Cross. The righteousness of to-day has much in it to commend; but it utterly disregards the only feature upon which God places emphasis. The Blood and the Cross, as of old, is an offense; they have found a more excellent way, but it is the "way of Cain." It is offering self-righteousness rather than seeking the righteousness of God. The bloody offering of Abel suggested suffering, punishment, death, judgment--but it honoured God. Modern righteousness scoffs at the Abel offerings by hanging a wreath of flowers on the Cross, bearing a perfumed tag, "With sympathy." It is Cain setting up business in town once more. A sacrificial propitiation for sin is unnecessary when we have "inherent goodness." The modern righteousness contends that each man has self-redemptive qualities; all he needs is a chance. Salvation is not internal, but external. The Cainites are filling the earth; they are preaching the popular sermons, writing the magazine articles, the poetry, the fiction; they occupy the chief synagogue seats of seminaries; they are conspicuous at all chatauquas and baccalaureate occasions. It is a well-known psychological fact that evil cannot exist apart from Personality--whether it be bad laws, bad books, bad town, or a bad house. Whence comes all this audacious, undermining insult to the whole sweep of God's plan for saving the world? Whence comes all this preaching about righteousness which places the crown on man, and robs the Cross of its glory? The righteousness being sounded in double diapason and angelus keys is _the righteousness of the Devil_. Bear in mind it is _Righteousness_, and a high type of it, he demands; he wants the offering of Cain to cover up all the needs of the soul--cheat the blood of its merit--insult God, and lead the race through a bowery of flowers, fruits, and music on to its ruin. Anything to cheat the depositum of the Gospel--that which gives a title to heaven--the precious Blood. The righteousness that leaves out the Blood is the "way of Cain"--"the righteousness of the Devil." XVIII THE WORLD'S TEMPTER "Again, the devil taketh him up into an exceeding high mountain, and showeth him all the kingdoms of the world, and the glory of them; and sayeth unto him, All these things will I give thee, if thou wilt fall down and worship me."--_Matthew iv. 8-9._ Temptation is a seduction: meaning to allure or entice one to evil. It is submitting a proposition which carries with it inducements of pleasure or gain. The mind that accedes readily and willingly to an act is not tempted. A temptation is a clash of wills, one being superior to the other if the contest results in a yielding. The word embodies the idea of an elastic--"stretched to the snapping point." If there is no response, no struggle against desire--it is not a temptation. The Master was very man as well as very God; yet strange as it may seem--_He was really tempted_, and just as we are. Our purpose in this discussion is not to analyze the different phases of our Lord's temptation--the tests to which He was subjected,--but we wish to emphasize one thing: He was _tempted_. The appeals came from His old time enemy; His rival for supremacy. He was not taken unawares; the facts were clearly before Him, just who and what it all meant--yet He was tempted. The diabolical assault did not cease until His threefold nature was "stretched to the snapping point." It came from an inferior being, and for sake of illustration, had the scheme succeeded, the Sun of righteousness would have gone down forever. Not only would the great plan of human redemption have proved abortive, but Satan would have snatched the sceptre from the hand of the Anointed One and shouted his victory in the face of God. We are amazed to think of the only Begotten being near the yielding point in the presence of the fallen Lucifer, but the Book says He was tempted. Some may contend that He could not have yielded; all the while He was conscious of divine security. This conclusion forces another untenable proposition: If He could not have yielded, His humanity was not real, but veiled in His divinity; the temptation was only a shadow. We insist that as a man Jesus was tempted; He could have called to His aid supernatural intervention, but He did not. The issue was met as every man must meet it; it was manhood that conquered. Had He yielded, both manhood and divinity would have become subservient to the enemy. "Fall down and worship me" was the proposition. Now we wish to make a few deductions from our Lord's temptation. Whatever includes the greater includes the lesser--_a fortiori_. Natural man reached his highest expression in Jesus of Nazareth; He was God's exponent of human perfection. There were no weaknesses, no lack of pose or symmetry; His penetration and judgment of others were absolutely accurate. From the beginning He had known the Evil One who faced Him. Now, with all those perfect endowments, the record says _He was tempted_. The ingenuity of Satan was sufficient to bring out all the resources of the Son of God. Here was the greatest, wisest, purest and strongest man that ever walked upon the earth--susceptible, influenced, strained to the "snapping point," when attacked by the Tempter. What will be the inevitable fate of you and me, dear reader, whenever he selects us as his victims? The unmistakable teachings of the Word are that every temptation to which man is or ever has been subjected came fresh from the seething caldron of the pit. The student of human conduct has observed universal adaptability of all temptation. A great sagacious intelligence seems to be managing personally, through his cohorts, this campaign of promising propositions. There are some who can be incited to commit horrible crimes, such as murder, incendiary, born perhaps with vicious tendencies, but this class is comparatively small; others are susceptible to deeds of milder character. It would matter little to an army approaching a fortification where or how the attack should be made if the walls at every point were weak and crumbling. No time is spent in reconnoitre and playing for position; but if the battlements be strong, a faulty place must be located if there be one. Satan rarely ever blunders in laying his temptations; he is a most skillful strategist. As the world's tempter he reveals an ingenuity that is truly astounding; it should cause the bravest heart to shudder once the eyes are opened to the source. Knowledge of his approaches, marches, countermarches, advancings, and retreats--all with a specific object--ought to be a great breakwater. A writer gives us a striking word picture of Satan's methods: "As the enemy who lays siege to a city finds out the weakest portion of the wall, or the best spot to batter it, or the lowest and safest place to scale it, or where the intervening obstacle may be easiest overcome, or where an advantage may be taken, or where an entrance may be effected, or when is the best time, or what is the best means to secure the desired end, so the arch-deceiver and destroyer of souls goes about, watchful, intent upon ruin, scanning all the powers of the mind, inspecting all the avenues to the heart and assailing every unguarded spot. Sometimes he attacks our understanding by injecting erroneous doctrine; sometimes our affections by excessive devotion to things we love; sometimes our wills by strengthening them in wrong directions; sometimes our imaginations by vain, foolish, trifling thoughts; and sometimes our feelings by too high or too low excitation." Some one has called Satan and his subordinates not omnipresent, but "shifting imps." They swarm the air, invisible, because they are spirit, watching for opportunities to edge their way into the hearts of mankind. They are shifting position, always to a point of least resistance. Like a current of electricity, always flowing from a point of higher potential pressure to one of lower, if points are connected by a conductor. The metallic substances from which the current starts and towards which it flows are called "electrodes," and are always of different potentiality. The current passes from the one of higher to the lower. Man in his own strength is the lower, and unprotected by the Spirit of God cannot resist the evil currents flowing from Satan continually. XIX THE CONFIDENCE MAN "In whom the god of this world hath blinded the minds of them which believe not, lest the light of the glorious gospel of Christ, who is the image of God, should shine unto them."--_2 Corinthians iv. 4._ History is one long, tragic recital of human sorrow and suffering; but there is far more unwritten history than has ever been recorded on the printed page. Along the march of civilization all that has come down to us are the lives and doings of great men; we know little of the heart agonies of the race--such as cannot be recorded--language is inadequate. Most of history is a record of man's inhumanity to man, but historians deal with these dark pages only on the higher levels. The greatest suffering, the bitterest cries of anguish, the deepest wails of despair are in the lowlands of human life: down where its pathos can never be known. The darkest tragedies of war are lost by the gallant heroism of some officer; the blood and carnage are overshadowed and forgotten by the heralds of victory. The real pathos of war remains unnoticed by the chroniclers and correspondents; it is found in the heart suffering of the dying in the trenches; the black pall that settles over the homes made desolate by the news from the front. The saddest stories of life will never be told; they are the voiceless agonies and smothered sobs from victims of human treachery and deceit. Millions are shambling on their weary way, waiting for the end, whose hearts are dead and buried in graves of misplaced confidence. More domestic lights have been extinguished, more love dreams turned from a sweet phantasy to an horrid nightmare, more bodies fished from the river, more shocking tragedies have resulted directly from this cause--misplaced and wrecked confidence--than from all other causes of human wretchedness. An illustration from actual life will serve to bring the caption of this chapter--the Confidence Man--out in bold relief. An honest old farmer, whose horizon had not extended beyond the obscure Indiana neighbourhood, sold his little home and started for Kansas, hoping to enlarge his possessions and give his sons and daughters a larger sphere of opportunity. That they might see the wonders of a great city, arrangements were secured for a three days' stop-over at St. Louis. The Confidence Man saw them pass through the iron gate into the lobby. He first noted the train on which they had come to the city. With great enthusiasm he greeted the old gentleman, introduced himself, extending a business card of his "firm." With cunning palaver, and the guilelessness of the farmer--item after item of information as to name and where they came from were obtained. The man who said he thought he recognized the old gentleman soon became satisfied of it--having an uncle living in the same county--and "I have often heard him speak of you, etc., etc." It required only a short time to not only gain the confidence of the whole family, but also to get all the facts concerning their business affairs: how much the little farm brought, and how much they had left to begin life in the west, and actual cash on hand. There was not a hitch in the scheme; the new friend (?) loaded them with kindnesses and courtesies, paid all the bills at lunch and theatre--took the young people into the mysteries of the great wonderland--all so new and strange. It was the last afternoon; father and Mr. Confidence Man were returning from a tour of sightseeing. They met a man walking in great haste; looking up he saw the two men, and suddenly laid violent hands on the "farmer's friend," demanding the payment of a note three days overdue. They quarrelled; all manner of apologies were made, that he was "entertaining an old friend, etc.," all of which caused the Shylock to grow more enraged and unreasonable; they almost came to blows. Finally the old man's benefactor asked to see him for a moment alone. Then meekly humble, and with many regrets, asked for a loan of enough to pay the note. "We will go right down to my office, and I will reimburse you with big interest for the kindness." The honest old man was only too glad for an opportunity of returning, by such a little act, the kindness that had been shown him. The note was almost one thousand dollars; when the bills were counted out, less than ten dollars remained in his purse--the savings of a lifetime. Proceeding on their way until they reached the first saloon, "It is my treat, uncle," said the man. After the drinks were served, he asked to be excused for a moment, and stepped into a back room from the bar--he was seen no more. After a long time, the barkeeper informed the old man that his _friend_ was one of the worst crooks in St. Louis. With less than ten dollars he staggered out of the saloon, wandered over the city dazed and half insane. On the following day he was found down on the wharf crying like a child. What had happened? He had been in the hands of a Confidence Man. There are being formed in all walks of life--high and low--associations and alliances, spurred on and incited by extravagant promises--the hook baited according to the fish--which culminates in certain disaster. The pathway of life is strewn with victims of Confidence friends--instead of friends. As in all these subtle and dangerous diversions we believe every trap and scheme are under the direct control and supervision of Satan--playing the rôle of Confidence Man. Many with a natural impulse for pleasure knock, and at once arms are wide open to receive them; lust beckons, and the Broad Way becomes choked with her votaries; covetousness shouts her promises, and the love of money soon burns out every high and holy aspiration. Fame holds the chaplet in full view, and men are ready to exchange heaven in order to have it pressed upon their brow. But alas, in the end--in the end--"it biteth like a serpent and stingeth like an adder." When the curtain falls, too late to recover, we shall be found on eternity's shore, shipwrecked, robbed, ruined--victims of the great seducer. No one but an incarnate devil could stoop to the low plane of Confidence Man in business and social life; but think of what it means: by flattering promises, smiles, and kindness force an entrance into the heart life, and when once in possession, desecrate, prostitute, and destroy. We insist that it takes a devil-possessed man to operate in this particular field, and the world is full of such. We therefore conclude he is the god of this planet, blinding the eyes of his unnumbered victims. XX THE TRAPPER "And that they may recover themselves out of the snare of the devil, who are taken captive by him at his will."--_2 Timothy ii. 26._ "Surely he will deliver thee from the snare of the fowler."--_Psalm xci. 3._ To be a trapper requires something more than setting traps and baiting them. The old trapper returns from a season spent among mountains, rivers, and forests--ladened with valuable furs of every kind: beaver, bear, otter, fox, mink, wildcat, coon, opossum, etc. Remember the animal kingdom is infinite in variety; no two alike. A trap that will catch a beaver will not answer as a bear trap; a coon and a mink are as far removed from each other as a polished American and a native of Madagascar. A coon will not go within a rod of a chain, but have little if any keenness of scent for protection. A rat will not go near an object if the smell of human hands is on it. Volumes of natural history would be inadequate to give the details of differentiation of the animal kingdom. The old trapper in his log cabin has never read a page of zoölogy, but is far more familiar with the ways of the furry folk than the scientists who write our books on natural history. The trapper is a graduate from the school of Association; he has studied the traits and pranks of the forest inhabitants by observation at close range. He knows just where the mink can be caught, and just how the trap must be baited and concealed; he has the same information about all the rest, and can apply it. Once when a child, we were enraptured until late bedtime by the stories of an old trapper: telling about "the different varmints." Without drawing on his imagination, he could have added many chapters to the tales of "Uncle Remus." The facts about our furry friends are far more interesting than fiction; the trapper knows about these facts. The Psalmist calls Satan a fowler; one who sets traps for old and young as the fowler sets traps for fowls. How is it done? Leaves and weeds are carefully cleared away, and the trap is skillfully set by a trigger, so that the slightest touch will spring it. The ground is also cleared for several rods leading off in front of the trap; suitable food is scattered under the trap and all along the clean strip of ground. The birds excitedly follow the line of "food"--walking under the trap where it is scattered in abundance. In the scuffle, the trigger is soon touched; behold the trap falls, and they are caught; oh, how they beat their heads against the prison bars until they are covered with blood, but all is over. They are caught in the snare of the fowler. Every animal and fowl will flee from the approach of danger; the trap must be hid, or in some way made to appear as something harmless; nature has endowed them to seek always self-preservation. With nothing but instinct to guide, they are easily caught by the skill and cunning of man, but never caught in the open; some, however, are more easily caught than others, but they must be trapped. The Bible teaches that the Devil is a trapper; his snares are set everywhere--they are man traps; no spider ever spun a web more accurately for the moth than Satan's traps to catch men. It requires certain bait and certain traps for each particular animal and bird, but the snares for men are legion. Man has a threefold nature: body, mind, and spirit; each of these have many avenues of approach. As the trapper gains his knowledge of the furry tribe by association, so the Trapper of men, by the application of supernatural powers, in close contact and intimate association through the past millenniums, has become intimately acquainted with man. There are no facts touching his habitat, food, passions, ambitions, weaknesses, yearnings, etc.--whether in the realm of body, mind or spirit--but the cunning trapper of the pit is more minutely acquainted than man is acquainted with himself. If guileless and unsuspecting men and women were the only victims, the situation would not be so serious; not that one soul is of more value than another, but the facts are: _no one_ seems to be capable of discovering his hidden snares. The greatest and wisest--Alexanders, Anthonys, Napoleons, kings, sages and philosophers--have been captured by him at his will. What a shudder would go over the race if it could penetrate the veil of mystery and see the traps towards which we are moving; moving on to certain capture, but for Providential oversight and guidance. Domestic traps, political traps, social traps, business traps, religious traps; the location and bait are suited to individual likes and dislikes. "My soul be on thy guard; ten thousand foes arise." Our country is just beginning to awake to a system of trapping now being carried on in every city and town, so gigantic and heinous that we are dazed and frightened at its boldness. The great White Slave Traffic is carried on by traps, pure and simple; as carefully planned and skillfully executed as the methods of an old trapper who remains in the primeval forest to supply the fur market. The feelers and tentacles of this human devil-fish are running out in the highways and hedges: the factories, mills, department stores. But the traffic is not confined to the poor, uneducated girls at the ribbon counter or waist factory; girls of culture and experience are caught, but the bait used is very different. When once caught, not one in ten thousand ever escapes. A being less than a fallen archangel could never have instituted the White Slave Traffic. A man or woman not incarnated by the Devil or some of his minions could never promulgate a system so vile, so inhuman, so hellish, as the traffic of innocent flesh and blood, to be offered and burned on the altars of lust for gain. Compared with the White Slave Traffic, as it is prosecuted by the panderers and procurers, negro slavery, at its worst, the extermination of which the bloodiest war ever fought on this planet was waged, is like the vilest ribaldry ever sung in a den of vice to a Te Deum. Lest we forget--Satan is an expert trapper--the king of trappers. XXI THE INCOMPARABLE ARCHER "Wherefore take unto you the whole armour of God.... Stand therefore, having your loins girt about with truth, and having on the breastplate of righteousness.... Above all, taking the shield of faith, wherewith ye shall be able to quench all the fiery darts of the wicked."--_Ephesians vi. 13, 14, 16._ When traps, tricks, seductions, and quackery, temptations, etc., fail, Satan adds victims to his long list by destroying them at long range. While in a mountain peak vision of inspiration Paul sees the enemy as a wrestler, a trickster, a schemer, and even a more dangerous rôle than either: a skilled marksman. By keeping close to God, and keeping ourselves unspotted from the world, we may stay his blighting touch from personal contact; but there seems to be no absolute safety until we are shielded by the "whole armour of God." There are "evil days," days of visitation and distress, over which no one has control; at such times we may not be conscious of any satanic presence; yet confusion, doubt, fear and anxiety have complete control over mind and heart. These days, and their depressing effect, can only be warded off by the protection of the "whole armour"; for emphasis, Paul mentions it twice in the same paragraph. An armour is a coat of mail covering the body, made so as to be impenetrable to the missile of death. The Apostle does not stop with a partial equipment; the head and feet also must be properly covered. Especially does he emphasize the _shield_--that great polished, concave steel disk, strapped to the left arm, so that a thrust from sword, arrow, or spear can be easily deflected. As it is carried on the arm it can be raised or lowered so as to protect the whole body. This arrow-protecting shield must be wrought in faith, that mysterious relation which unites the soul with God. The antithesis of Paul's language implies that when Satan makes certain efforts to wound the soul, the shield of faith alone can save. The fight is not ended when we come out victor in a hand to hand conflict, but must next prepare to meet a shower of "fiery darts." A dart is an arrow shot from a bow; a fiery dart is a flaming torch attached to the arrow. In all ages, until the days of powder and firearms, soldiers were equipped with bow and arrows. Arrowheads were made of steel, and as keen as needles. The battle-axe and broadsword were used when the lines met, but showers of arrows would fall upon the enemy with as much fatality as a round of grape and canister. Often the arrows would be freshly dipped in a deadly poison, and in that case the slightest wound would result in certain death. When a fort or city was being besieged, the arrows would carry a ball of tow, having been saturated in oil; hundreds of these flaming darts would fall on the inside of the fortification and start a general conflagration. This method was practiced by the American Indians when they could not reach a fort, blockhouse, or stockade because of the white man's gun; these flaming torches, falling in great number, were more to be dreaded than the tomahawk and scalping knife of the savages. Satan shoots "fiery darts"--arrows--at us; he may come, as he did to the Master, and find nothing in us; our hearts may be clean. But from a source entirely unexpected--here comes a flaming arrow--burning its way into the heart, igniting with hatred and misunderstanding friends and enemies in a manner never dreamed of before. How often the blow comes from the one place least expected, and for that reason all the more deadly. We are guarded in some directions, but over the walls of our stockade the Devil sends his fiery darts, and we are swept away in a satanic conflagration. It requires the "whole armour"--and the shield of faith to quench the flaming arrows from his quiver. He is the world's incomparable archer; when all other methods fail, he shoots us with poisoned, fiery darts. The mother of Achilles baptized him in the river Styx, making him invulnerable to the weapons of the enemy; she held him by the heel during the baptismal ceremony; the heel only remained untouched by the protecting waters of the fabulous Styx. One of the gods became acquainted with this fact, and shot him to death in the heel, the one vulnerable spot. Again, we repeat, we are not safe without the "whole armour of God," and the "shield of faith." Bear in mind, also, the Incomparable Archer takes a more deliberate aim if it is a shining mark, and exults most when he can lay low in the dust, wounded and disabled, one dowered with unusual capacity for noble service. XXII THE FATHER OF LIARS "Ye are of your father the devil, and the lusts of your father ye will do. He was a murderer from the beginning, and abode not in the truth, because there is no truth in him. When he speaketh a lie, he speaketh of his own: for he is a liar, and the father of it."--_John viii. 44._ "Sin has many tools, but a lie is a handle which fits them all."--_O. W. Holmes._ Satan opened his propaganda with a slanderous lie; this lie was believed by the innocent parents of the race. Simple and modest as this lie seemed to be, it opened a crevice in the moral government of God. Confidence, fellowship, and filial relations were destroyed by the breach. The nature and character of a lie may best be understood, and we can get the estimate God places on it, by carefully studying the damages it wrought. Eden was lost, God's favour lost, peace and plenty lost, innocence lost; humiliation, fear, banishment, toil, sweat, suffering and death took the place of Eden's pristine glories. Nothing so reveals the depths to which Lucifer had fallen--and his great intelligence, losing none of its acumen, exercised in a way fitting to his depravity of character, as the launching of a lie. He has done nothing since--which more clearly exemplifies the Being our Bible teaches that he is. An egg was laid and a lie was hatched; this lie has gone out spreading at a geometrical progression until the infinitude of God's footstool has felt the discordant jar. A lie, and the Father of it; think of this tremendous statement. The thought will overwhelm our intelligence. Suppose all the peoples that have lived on the earth were lined up: to simplify matters--consider the billion and a half supposed to be living on the earth to-day; just a small part of the number belongs to civilized, christianized nations. What is the situation? Under all the light of education and moral standards, justice, full and untrammelled, can scarcely be had, because of false swearing. An eminent authority says nine-tenths of the race has a price; this means that only one-tenth will rigidly adhere to the whole truth. How few will swear to their own hurt and change not. Let us study this gigantic proposition from another view-point: every unregenerated heart is full of deceit. In every unregenerated heart there is a germ of all the sins of the Decalogue; lying is one of the "shall nots." A close student of men will agree with the Apostle Paul, when he said: "I have no confidence in the flesh." Carnality will not swear against its own interests; the status of civilization, whether in religion or morals, does not seem to control this matter. When we consider the falsehood and false swearing which obtain among the _best_ people, socially, financially, and so often religiously, then think of the millions living without moral standards, we can begin to appreciate the amount of lying carried on in this world. As lying is one of the outputs of carnality, and human selfishness is the tap root of carnality, and selfishness dominates the entire race, with rare exceptions here and there, we can understand how easily and naturally prevarication and lying become efficient tools to further personal interests. We once attended a celebrated criminal case in court; scores of witnesses were summoned on both sides; a bar of attorneys fought desperately every inch of ground. The prosecution covered the case beyond any question to the perfect satisfaction of the jury. And the witnesses were, in the main, both respectable and intelligent. But behold, when the defense produced their side of the case, the witnesses equally honest looking and intelligent, every point of evidence made by the prosecution was absolutely refuted. A new story was told; a new case from the one just stated. Think of it--on both sides there were eye-witnesses; then every witness on one side or the other perjured themselves--and perhaps all of them on both sides. So completely has the father of liars woven the spirit of falsehood into the moral fibre of men that a sense of its fearful character is almost obliterated. Men make fortunes, secure positions, are elected to office, destroy rivals, win unsuspecting love, seduce innocence, and subdue kingdoms, by being an obedient offspring of their father, inheriting his disposition and ability to breathe out falsehood. Liars are children of the Devil. Think of the almost infinite resources for evil: "father of liars" does not fully justify the situation. While it is true he originated the first lie, and the lying spirit has ever widened through the stream of racial propagation; but the clearer interpretation signifies that he is the father of _lies_. "See," he whispers, "the advantages to be gained--don't be white livered--tell it; get the hush money--make the promise--swear you did not see it--tell her how devotedly you love her, etc." Who has not met these insidious pulls on the conscience? Yes, but he is only acting now as a tempter. Quite true; but when the will gives away, the oath, the promise, the false statement is made under a furious lashing of the conscience. The lie belongs to him; he originated--suggested--formulated it; then literally drew it out with quite as much pain as is felt during the extraction of a tooth by a dentist. It has been said: "The Devil will leave his own brat on your door-step, then accuse you of being its father." This is an inelegant, though a striking statement of a great truth. When he is unable to bring forth--deliver, etc.--his own conception, he at once charges us of being guilty of the thing conceived: the lie, vile imagination, or whatever it may be, quoting Scripture to prove it: "As a man thinketh in his heart, so is he." "Now," he declares, "you are guilty anyhow; why not enjoy the benefits?" Father of lies; millions of them spawned every day and hour: big lies, little lies, business lies, social lies, political lies, and not a few--religious lies, black lies, white lies, church lies. XXIII KINGSHIP OF SATAN "Wherein in time past ye walked according to the prince of the power of the air, the spirit that now worketh in the children of disobedience."--_Ephesians ii. 2._ "For we wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness in high places."--_Ephesians vi. 12._ In a former chapter we discussed the origin of Satan, he being an archangel--Lucifer--a great shining leader of the heavenly hosts; now in his fallen estate he is no less a leader. A writer has said: "He seems to have been the rightful prince of this earth, but he has become the traitor-prince through being untrue to the trust; and the usurper-prince through seeking to retain control of the earth as his own dominion, through deceiving man, to whom the earth's dominion was given, into obeying him, and in utter defiance of God." The angels which kept not their first estate, but went down with his insurrection, are his subjects. He is superior in all villainies, but the Scriptures call him a King ruling his cohorts, and is the "angel of the bottomless pit." As angel he retains his old title, but as _king_, his relations stand out significantly. As chief Devil--archdemon--the title would imply rather _Primus inter pares_; as commander-in-chief, a general of the highest rank. He is all these things: he gives special oversight to field operations, conducts personally great campaigns, retreats here, advances there, charges yonder--but his real aim is to get this world back under his own control; he would put himself in God's place--drive Him out, dethrone Him, kill Him off, that he might take it all to himself, and rule supremely. However, he is _king_, and as such he is raised above the rank of leadership and commander. We are already familiar with his rank, but the purpose of this chapter is to show, specifically, that as a king his kingship has a much wider range than the bottomless pit. It is threefold. First, as angel of the bottomless pit, he is king of the _underworld_, the land of shadows, gloom, utter darkness; the land of eternal despair. We must depend upon the _Infernos_, evolved from a burning imagination, in order to get any conception of that region. Fearful as the scenes are, a close reading of the Scriptures will reveal a condition of things so terrible that the things seen by Dante and Virgil are not overdrawn. Over this land of woe and suffering Satan is the unlimited monarch. Second, he is king of the _upper world_. This statement sounds very strange; it would appear that God is entirely ruled out of His creation. But observe the language: "prince of the power of the air." Just what this means in its fullness no one should dare to be dogmatic, but certainly the language cannot be meaningless words. We can but conclude that Satan, in some measure, controls the forces of the physical world: storms, cyclones, cloud bursts, tidal waves, lightning bolts, earthquakes, etc. Certainly, as a _destroyer_, he uses the agencies of destruction; his business is to fill the world with doubt, fear, distress and suffering. A man has a little child killed by lightning, and he curses God. Does this not look as if a diabolical schemer was manipulating the affair some way? We must admit his power is permitted, and that proposition forces another to the front. Why does God allow or permit his ravages? We have no answer; the ravages go on. We might ask with just as much reason: "Why doesn't God kill the Devil?" He certainly is able to do it, or at least stop his progress. But He does not; Satan is evidently running at large, filling the world with broken hearts and all the accompanying evils which, otherwise, would not occur. That we may be able to strengthen our opinion as to the prerogatives of this "prince of the power of the air," let us remember the circumstances of Job's calamities. This case is undoubtedly authentic, and the record says that Satan actually controlled the powers of the air. The servant of Job thought God rained fire on the sheep and burned them, but the whole affair had been turned over to the tormentor. The visitations sent on the faithful man of Uz were not from the hand of God; they were manipulated by his satanic lordship--the Devil. Then a great wind came--possibly a tornado or cyclone--and blew the house down wherein Job's children were enjoying themselves. Concerning Satan's relation--controlling and directing the forces of nature--we shall not conture a dogmatic position. The definite statements and incidents from the inspired record are significant indeed. Strange things occur: a great vessel loaded with Sunday revellers goes down with scarcely a moment's warning; a tidal wave destroys thousands; an earthquake leaves a city in ruins with fearful loss of life. Does the loving, compassionate Father send these calamities? Would it not be a terrible indictment? But the Bible gives incidents where He did send death-dealing visitations upon the people. Certainly. Many believe that God uses Satan, in his vicious administration, to visit His wrath upon places and people. However, God has given him the title of "prince of the power of the air"--the "wickedness in high places." The third realm of his kingship is terrestrial; in this he is given a stronger title than prince or king; "The god of this world." Besides, he is the "prince of darkness," and the "prince of this world." So real are his presence and power manifested here that Paul declares the contest is like a wrestling boute. This figure, examined closely, will open up a great continent of truth concerning our enemy, of whom we must meet in hand to hand conflict. See the wrestlers writhe and strain; agony is depicted on their faces; the muscles contract into hard knots, perspiration bursting from every pore. All the strength of every nerve and muscle, wrought up to their full capacity, is exerted. "We wrestle," he declares, and not with flesh and blood; but "against principalities and against powers," "rulers of the darkness of this world." The great religious reformers since Paul's day have left a similar testimony concerning this terrestrial enemy; his personality has never been questioned by men who were positive powers in the realm of spiritual warfare. After Martin Luther had produced a nation-wide reformation, having been delivered from the bondage of a Benedictine monk by a revelation to his own soul that the "just shall live by faith," he declared: "Satan semper mehi dixit falsum dogma." Shall we deny the oft told story that Luther threw his inkstand at them (demons) when they actually appeared unto him in person? Is it unreasonable? They were alarmed at his triumphs, and wanted to terrify him. The kingship of Satan in the under world and upper world are Bible statements; his kingship in the world about us is a Bible fact confirmed by human testimony. XXIV THE DEVIL'S HANDMAIDEN "Be not drunk on wine wherein is excess, but be ye filled with the Spirit."--_Ephesians v. 18._ "No drunkard shall inherit the kingdom of God."--_1 Corinthians vi. 10._ The fallen Lucifer knew from the beginning that his work must necessarily be in competition with the Son of God; therefore he has invested his genius to originate a duplicate for all that Christ has done for us. Knowing that the letter killeth, but the spirit maketh alive, he seeks to furnish all the appearances, and as far as possible duplicate experiences: Reformation without repentance; conviction without conversion; conversion without regeneration; membership without adoption; baptism with water without the baptism of the Holy Ghost; physical and emotional pleasure without the "joy of salvation." The prophet Isaiah exhorts the people to say: "Praise the Lord," and, "with joy draw water out of the wells of salvation," and, "Cry out and shout, thou inhabitant of Zion, etc." The Psalmist, also, gives out a continuous stream of joyous praise. In all ages people have at sundry times and places shouted out the joy of the Lord. This emotional expression is by no means the only test of experimental salvation, as nothing honours God so much as simple, unemotional faith; but there are times of refreshing from the presence of the Lord. This contrast of emotional experience we wish to examine. We must keep in mind the bitter rivalry between the Prince of light, and the Prince of darkness. The heart of a contest of this character is the expulsive power of the one over against the other. Satan studies assiduously every experience, every angle of advancement of Christ's kingdom, and proceeds to furnish a duplicate. He knows that the followers of Jesus often rejoice with a fullness of joy--unspeakable, as it were; to meet this, he soon discovered that the exhilaration of drunkenness produced a splendid expulsive power. He proposes and promises his followers all the joys furnished by his rival; however pleasant they are always shams, and "at last it biteth like a serpent and stingeth like an adder." A beverage that would produce drunkenness has been a curse from the earliest history. We call attention to two events, each one of which was so great that it left a blight sufficient to turn the course of human history into darker and bloodier channels. The first followed closely upon the remarkable deliverance from the Flood. The Ark had settled; life began its routine, fresh from the awful calamity. Noah built an altar and worshipped God; but before the perfume of the holy incense evaporated, that faithful servant of the Most High became _beastly drunk_, and his son Ham looked upon his nakedness and shame. The children of Ham must carry the curse until the end. The other followed closely upon a deliverance from fire. Lot was a citizen of Sodom, but he had not defiled himself; the iniquity of the place came up before God, and He destroyed it; not, however, until His angel led this righteous man to a place of safety. Through the entreaties of his designing daughters, as they were resting in the mountains, Lot became intoxicated unto idiocy. We must draw a veil over the shameful scene that occurred during his debauch; but the tribes of Moab and Ammon, war-like savages of the desert unto this day, was the terrible resultant. They are the incorrigible followers of the Crescent rather than the Cross. Wherever drunkenness has touched humanity it has blighted and withered like a Sirocco from Sahara. No one but a fallen archangel could have invented such a beverage. Yet the character of liquors used by the race in its infancy for carnival pleasures, compared with the output of the modern distillery and brewery, are as moonshine to the blistering heat of the summer sun. Satan profits by experience; he has not been idle during the centuries. Solomon warned against "looking upon the wine when it was red, and turneth itself in the cup"--fermentation. If fermented grape juice should, at that time, bring forth such an inspired warning, what language would be necessary to depict the character of the low grade, adulterated fire-water sold in the saloons and dives of America and Europe? The true spirit and character of liquor cannot be understood if viewed as a stimulating beverage, satisfying and inflaming human passions. Its Author soon discovered that such an unmixed evil must answer at the bar of an outraged individual and public conscience. He saw that if liquor succeeded in all he had planned, it must send its roots deeper down than taste and appetite. Hence this handmaiden of the Devil has now become one of the most gigantic trusts on earth, blooming out into commercial, political, and industrial proportions. The whole business lives and moves and has its being on misery and bloodshed on one side of the counter; loot and plunder, coupled with an insane lust for gold, on the other side of the counter. It has not one redeeming feature; but so carefully has it sheltered itself by a devil-fish organization that it stands like a Gibraltar. It has become so great that the actual investments in the business aggregate billions; an army larger than the combined forces, North and South, at any one time during the Civil War are being supported; over one hundred millions go annually into the national exchequer. China has been called a sleeping giant; woe to the nations once she is awakened. In the liquor traffic we have a giant that never sleeps. Twenty-four hours each day--like Giant Despair--he enslaves and imprisons the multitudes. So tremendous has this organization grown that its work does not stop with social demoralization, but with little difficulty can dictate governmental policies, throttle legislation, and bribe juries. Again, we cannot judge or estimate the liquor traffic until we follow it down through its labyrinth of social, financial, and moral declension. Not until we see it face to face, glaring and defiant, in the haunts where finished products are on exhibition. The "Scarlet Annex," temples of lust, and the White Slaver's headquarters are united in the place where labour troubles are hatched, mob violence gathers fuel, and feud hatred is crystallized into bloodshed. Where gamblers, thugs, yeggmen, murderers, anarchists, jail-birds, and burglars hold high carnival. We must see the bloated faces, the bleeding Magdalenas, human beasts, and wife beaters, as they wallow in filth and obscenity, before the perspective is correct. The inauguration of liquor as a duplicate for God's greatest manifestation of Himself--the infilling of the Holy Spirit--was a master stroke. In a wild, reckless debauch it supplements man's every need and hunger. In the crazed brain there is a vision of wealth, power, revenge, joy. The drunkard is clay in the liquor-demon's hand; if a coward, liquor makes him bold; if sympathetic, liquor deadens his heart; if honest, liquor makes him a thief; if a loving father or son, liquor makes him a brute. Behold the Handmaiden of the Devil--King Alcohol: the most efficient ally of the "angel of the bottomless pit." XXV THE ASTUTE AUTHOR "Till I come give heed to reading."--_1 Timothy iv. 13._ "Of the making of books there is no end."--_Ecclesiastes xii. 12._ When we remember the crude methods of book making in the days of Solomon, compared with the facilities of modern publishing houses, his statement has in it a touch of humour. To-day manuscripts are turned over to printers and binders, and in two weeks an edition of from five to fifty thousand copies are ready for the market. There are three million volumes in our libraries; and, a writer has said, enough new books come from the press annually to build a pyramid as large as St. Paul's Cathedral, London. Mr. Carnegie is planting his libraries in every town and city in America. Evening and morning papers are laid at our doors with flaming head-lines of all that has happened the world over in the last twenty-four hours. Detailed descriptions of murders, scandals, elopements, court scenes, betrayals, etc. Magazines, representing every phase of life and industry, are multiplying continually. The literature of a nation is potentially its food for character building, morally and spiritually. Now what are we reading? Editors are calling for "stuff" with "human interest." The manuscript with "preaching" gets a return slip instead of a check; writers are governing themselves by this canon. The most popular writers of fiction a decade ago, who wrote books with high moral and spiritual tone, have step by step eliminated _religion_, and now deal with Socialistic questions and New Thought problems. The most popular novels are teaching false standards of life, and some of the "best sellers" are base libels on religion and the Church. This is the situation, and a close observation of the output of the high-class, reputable publishers will confirm it. Why is this the status of our book makers? Book writing and publishing, like all other branches of human endeavour, have become commercialized; writers and publishers are pandering to a vitiated taste for revenue only. It is not literature editors are seeking, but stories that will sell. A librarian of one of our large cities told the writer that seventy-five per cent. of the books called for and read were positively harmful to the highest ideals. If such is true on this plane of literature, what can be said of the publishing houses which produce nothing but books utterly vile and immoral? It is said there are two thousand publishing concerns in New York City issuing just such literature, circulated secretly in many instances. An army of writers are employed to furnish so many "thrillers" monthly. These "stories" deal with the lowest, vilest passions of humanity. What is true of New York is also true of Chicago and other cities. Enough stories have been written of the James Boys, Wild Bill, Buffalo Bill, and other border heroes (?), could they have lived to take the least part in so many situations, to have required a century to pass through them all. As much blood as was shed actually at Shiloh has been shed by the writers of border outlawry during the past twenty-five years. The indirect influence of the books of the James Boys have caused more bloodshed than those Missouri bandits spilt by their unerring marksmanship. A penniless orphan boy was adopted by his well-to-do uncle, who gave him all the comforts and opportunities of an actual son. Early in his teens he became a novel fiend--the lowest and vilest type; reading several each week. When scarcely fifteen years old, he armed himself with his uncle's pistol, took from the barn the finest horse, and left in the early morning. The gentleman, suspecting the truth concerning the missing horse and boy, called a neighbour, and the two gave chase to the young ingrate. They came upon him late in the day, and as the uncle seized the bridle rein, the nephew shot him through the heart, and wounded the neighbour before he could be pulled from the horse and overpowered. A beautiful girl was found dead in Central Park, New York. Her face, form, and the fabric of her clothing showed plainly that she belonged to a home of wealth and culture. In one hand was an empty vial labelled deadly poison; in the other hand, gripped in the paroxysms of her last struggle, was a paperback novel. The explanation was simple: the heroine had a downfall, and rather than face her shame, committed suicide. If you will observe the throng of factory girls, overworked, underpaid, heart-hungry from which the White Slaver reaps a rich harvest, they will be reading the class of book mentioned. They enter into the sacred relation of married life with false, distorted ideals, the end of which is often ruin: infidelity to marriage vows, abandonment, and divorce court. There is another department of literature, written with but one purpose in view: the overthrow of orthodox faith. A thousand questions are raised which the common people cannot answer. Why is it the unchurched masses are continually drifting farther and farther from the Church and what it stands for? Labour unions have almost repudiated religion; class hatred was never more pronounced than to-day, notwithstanding the loud proclamation of human brotherhood. Say what you will as to causes, this condition is not an accident; we must go far up the turbid stream to find the source of these defiling waters. When we find the source, it will be found that behind all these insidious influences stands the inspiring Author. Why is there such an incessant effort to divert the minds of the best people from personal relationship of Jesus through faith in His blood? Where is the author, the editor--even religious editors--who stand four-square for the Bible of our fathers and mothers? We are glad to say there are a few exceptions; but the drift of writers and editors is away from fundamentals. Satan boldly and thievishly appropriates every available avenue to the soul; wherever his cold, clammy hand touches, it leaves a chill of death. Beyond a question more writers than we ever dreamed are only amanuenses of the Astute Author. XXVI THE HYPNOTIST "Even him, whose coming is after the working of Satan with all power and signs and lying wonders."--_2 Thessalonians ii. 9._ "And deceiveth them that dwell on the earth by the means of those miracles which he had power to do in the sight of the beast."--_Revelation xiii. 14._ "Awake thou that sleepest, and arise from the dead."--_Ephesians v. 14._ Just where the natural and the supernatural exists is a most difficult psychological problem. Many marvellous doings and strange apparitions, from the beginning, were attributed to the supernatural. These same wonders are now known to be the application of physical and psychological laws. The "enchanters," "soothsayers," "diviners," "magicians," and "fortune tellers" have awed the simple-minded and superstitious in all ages. A clear understanding of Hypnotism, Mesmerism, Telepathy, Odylic Force, Psychological Phenomena, Clairvoyance, Black Art, and Spiritism, will throw light on many of these supposed supernatural mysteries. Under whatever name demonstrations may be known, they are all various phases of certain well-established laws touching our physical, mental, and psychical being. One of the most common, and best understood, of these mystery workings is Hypnotism which, defined, is "an artificial trance, or an artificially induced state, in which the mind becomes passive." The subject, however, acts readily upon suggestion or direction; and upon regaining normal consciousness, retains little or no recollection of the actions or ideas dominant during this condition. Hypnotism is purely mental and physical; but this strange power which one can exercise over another strikingly illustrates the influence which Satan exercises over millions of blinded subjects. We shall avoid any attempt to discuss the science and philosophy of Hypnotism; this phase of the subject is not germane to our discussion. All these subtle laws of mind, acting in relation to the body, only now being understood by scholars, are undoubtedly familiar to our common Enemy. We believe that centuries before man knew anything about psychic laws, as understood to-day, strange, unaccountable influences were operating on the wills and consciences of men. Hypnotism is a form of sleep; but during the time the subject can receive and obey instructions. They are absolutely under the control of the hypnotist. Paul caught an extraordinary vision of sin when he exclaimed to the Ephesians: "Awake thou that sleepest, and arise from the dead." Here is a fearful figure of sin: that it is sleep--semi-consciousness-- unconsciousness; yet they think, act, move about, enjoy, love, hate, etc., etc., and they are as one asleep. Observe this state is, if allowed to remain _in articulo mortis_, Hypnotism, conducted by the Master of Black Art; and they obey his will, over against observation, warning, wisdom, experience of others, even of themselves. Voices may call loud and long, but do not awaken the soul under the satanic spell. There are many freaks of hypnotic influence which illustrate vividly the power of sin--and back of the sin, the sin Personality. We have seen subjects placed under hypnotic sleep, and they would remain in this condition for twenty-four hours. The demonstration was made in a large department store, facing a stone-paved street, which roared day and night with cars and heavy traffic. Hundreds of people swarmed about the sleeping man, laughing and talking loudly. Not until the hypnotist came and touched the subject did he arouse from the heavy slumber. A still more remarkable demonstration is reported to have been accomplished in an Eastern city. We give as authority the _Associated Press_. After the subject was placed under the hypnotic trance, he was dressed like one being prepared for burial, then put in a coffin, hauled to the cemetery in a hearse. The "corpse" was then lowered in a grave of the proper depth, the grave filled to the ground level. The air tube from the coffin to the top was large enough to enable a light to be reflected on the face of the sleeper. "Buried alive," said the report. He was left in the grave several hours. If superior mind force can accomplish such marvellous feats on human will, what may we expect from supernatural mind force with a burning ambition to subdue? The columns of our _dailies_ are filled with reports of the doings of men and women that cannot be explained on any other hypothesis. Think of the insane, unreasonable, illogical risk in all manner of sin--for what? A momentary taste of some "forbidden fruit." We hear that self-preservation is the first law of our being; but how often this law is utterly ignored for sensuous gratification. Those who do these things are unable to understand their insane conduct until it is all over. "Oh, I can see it all now," is the despairing cry so often heard. Of course, the hypnotic spell is removed. How easy it is to sit and philosophize on the actions of people. "Why would any sane person do such a thing?" A sane person would not; the why of all these human twists is very simple when we are willing to admit the literal teaching of God's book concerning our indefatigable Enemy. "The apostate angel and his followers by pride and blasphemy against God and malice against men became liars and murderers by tempting men to do sins" (Jude 6, R. V.). Why did the Prodigal Son do such an insane, sinful act? Why? Well, he came to himself, but not until the harm was wrought. Why have ten thousand prodigals since that day been guilty of the same insane conduct? The answer is obvious. Why did Judas sell his Lord?--He who had been so highly honoured: chosen, ordained, sent out? "Satan entered into Judas;" there you have the whole truth. By and by, Judas came to himself; then remorse and despair not only caused him to return the money, but destroy himself. In a subsequent chapter we shall discuss more particularly the suicide problem; but we are satisfied Judas was a victim of two satanic schemes: the hypnotic spell deadened his reason and judgment to do the deed; then, after the Crucifixion, despair gripped him like a vice. Who would say that Judas was excluded from the Saviour's dying prayer: "Father forgive them"? Peter denied Christ, then lied and blasphemed about it. He was restored; but Satan's power over Judas was not broken. His end was Satan's finished work. What he did to Judas he purposes to do with every "subject"--utter destruction. We once saw a snake charm a bird; the serpent's head was lifted several inches--eyes blazing, and red tongue flashing. The bird fluttered, gave a piteous wail, but was helplessly walking into the jaws of death. Now the question arises: what about the freedom of the will? Do we ever cease to be free agents? Certainly we do not; the hypnotic subject exercises free choice; that is never destroyed, but he acts under a compelling _vis uturga_--power behind. XXVII DEVIL POSSESSION "As they went out, behold, they brought to him a dumb man possessed with a devil. And when the devil was cast out, the dumb spake."--_Matthew ix. 32-33._ "O generation of vipers, how can ye, being evil, speak good things?"--_Matthew xii. 34._ One characteristic, which has been prominent in the varied manifestations of Satan studied so far, is adaptability. Methods that were available in the days of our Lord cannot be used successfully now. By some secret unknown to us the Devil enters into the souls of men. This is a mystery; so is, also, the filling of the Holy Spirit a mystery. The Devil possessed King Saul, Judas, Ananias and Sapphira, and many are the instances recorded in the ministry of the Saviour. Devil possession, it seemed, was very common; Christ was continually casting them out, and He also gave His Apostles power likewise to cast them out. We do not believe the Enemy has abandoned his old profession: an evil spirit despises a disembodied state; if people are fortified and shielded against his entrance--then the swine. As cold air whistles and roars about every crack and cranny, entering in from all directions, so evil spirits--Devil and demons--press their entrance into the soul. If it is true they cannot enter except by permission,--they pry and pound until resistance is impossible, unless divine reinforcement comes to the rescue. There are maniacs, violent, desperate, incurable, to-day as truly demon possessed as was the man who lived among the tombs. This, however, is not his modern _modus operandi_; desperate maniacs could then terrorize a whole community. Our great asylums have solved this problem; even the immediate family is relieved of the burden and fear. Those who do not accept the theory of demon possession should explain a case at present in one of our institutions. It is a boy, at the time it attracted attention, only twelve years of age, thin, emaciated, and by no means abnormal in any particular. This child would remain quiet for days; during this time he possessed no strength beyond one of his age. At unexpected moments he would be seized with violent contortions, frothing at the mouth, and snapping like a mad dog; and a continuous flow of the most obscene language and blasphemy while the spell lasted. This is not the strangest part: he had the strength of a giant; it required four or five men to overpower him. One man was helpless in his hands; he would literally hurl them to the floor. Compare this story with the one in the fifth chapter of Mark: "And when He was come out of the ship, immediately there met Him out of the tombs a man with an unclean spirit, who had his dwelling among the tombs; and no man could bind him, no not with chains, because that he had been often bound with fetters and chains, and the chains had been plucked asunder by him, and the fetters broken in pieces: neither could any man tame him." In countries where the gospel light has not yet shown full-orbed, demon possession with manifestations similar to those of Bible times are known to be common. F. B. Meyer relates numerous cases in Russia; many by prayer were cast out in the name of Jesus Christ. "I confess," he says, "these incidents have greatly impressed me. I wonder how far it would be right to deal with certain forms of drunkenness and impurity as cases of demon-possession. It may be there is more of this demon work among us than we know, and especially in cases of mania." Dr. Howard Taylor, of the China Island Mission, it is said, was accustomed to diagnose the symptoms of demon-possession in the same way as of any other disease. Dr. Nevins, of the Presbyterian Mission Board, tells of hundreds of cases, witnessed by himself, where by faith in the Son of God the demons were cast out, and the victims were clothed and in their right mind. Cotton Mather says of Salem witchcraft: "Those persons said to be bewitched would swoon, froth at the mouth, their bodies would cramp into irregular shapes; meanwhile they would utter accusations against good people who, they said, had bewitched them. This excited sympathy of the court. As soon as the court rendered judgment, those bewitched victims would be relieved of their physical cramps and mental torture." Salem witchcraft was real cases of demon-possession, but the court blundered in that the demons were located in the wrong persons. Sir Walter Scott says that similar manifestations of Satan as were witnessed at the time of the Salem witchcraft occurred simultaneously in every country on earth. He writes again: "Anna Cole, living at Hartford, was taken with strange fits which caused her to express strange things unknown to herself, her tongue being guided by a demon. She confessed to the minister that she had been familiar with a devil." Pages could be filled with modern examples which coincide so exactly with New Testament records that we have no doubt the causes are the same. Professor Webster, late of Wheaton College, said in a lecture before the students: "I once knew a man possessed of a demon. He became so vicious that he had to be confined in a cell in jail. When he heard any one swear or blaspheme, he would go into convulsions of laughter. When any one used the name of God or Christ, he would curse everything good, and foam at the mouth. He possessed superhuman strength, like the man living among the tombs." The soul is God's masterpiece, created to be the habitat of the Paraclete, but may, as truly, become the habitat of a demon. We believe that Diabolus has so organized his forces that his minions represent various sins; they are specialists--skilled labourers: drink demons, lust demons, lying demons, anger demons, theft demons, pride, blasphemy, etc. Demon possession to-day expresses itself in sins we try to control by means of courts, education, etc. Homes become a miniature hell because of drink, pride, lust, or lying demons. Our penitentiaries are crowded with men who were controlled by a demon, forced them into drink, anger, or theft, until the deed was committed. We may feel thankful that there are so few Scriptural cases of demon possession about us--the old time possession. The wise Enemy has shifted, but at the same time has greatly enlarged his field of operation. There are no witch victims to-day: the courts would not punish the witches, but the bewitched would be safely cared for in an asylum. But observe, there are ten thousand other insidious ways in which he possesses men and women, enlarging his kingdom daily; his victims multiply, but not among the tombs. The name of Jesus continues to be the only remedy. XXVIII DEVIL OPPRESSION "So went Satan forth from the presence of the Lord, and smote Job with sore boils from the sole of his foot to his crown."--_Job ii. 7._ "Who went about doing good, and healing all that were oppressed of the devil."--_Acts x. 38._ A necessary concomitant of demon possession is its influence upon the individual's moral faculties; an entirely new type of moral tastes are developed: tempers, sympathies, and, especially, doctrines which are diametrically opposed to genuine spiritual religion and revelation. Demon possession bitterly and persistently rejects, whether by a nominal professor or unbeliever, the doctrines of repentance, new birth, etc., through a blood atonement. In demon possession the fight is on the inside; in demon oppression the fight is on the outside. In the one, Satan controls the man: body, mind and soul; in the other, he depresses, afflicts the man: body, mind, and soul. In the one, the victim is the incarnation of evil; in the other the victim is generally the purest and holiest of men and women. The Devil or demons may be ejected by the power of the Holy Ghost, but the hellish enterprise is never given up; all the engineering of the pit is utilized to keep ransomed souls out of the kingdom. Once a choice is made, all hell is aroused unto wrath and riot to torment, nag, and finally drag the discouraged pilgrim back into sin and apostasy. This is often accomplished successfully through an afflicted body. Who knows but that the drama enacted in the land of Uz has been repeated many, many times since Job sat on his ash pile? "But," says the objector, "sickness and disease come as a result of exposure, natural laws violated, inoculation by infection and contagion." True, but remember he is the "prince of the power of the air." What he did once he can do again, and more efficiently. Think of the strenuous war being waged on germs, microbes, and bacilli; we have diseases more violent than ever before. Yet when the race of life was less complicated and simple, none of the modern precautions were thought of; flies swarmed about everything placed on the table, and their mission thought to be one of beneficence. There are many actual and implied statements in the Bible which teach that disease and sickness are often the result of demon oppression; a large part of our Lord's ministry was relieving those who were oppressed of the Devil and demons. Then his work is just as effective in the realm of the mind; the mental faculties, filled with confusion and doubt, are incapable of exercising their normal functions. Multitudes are able, because of their intelligence, to guard the approaches through the physical organism, or to the extent of subjection at least; but are as completely oppressed in mind as others are in body. We do not claim that any are entirely immune from his attacks; but he is wise and sagacious enough to select such victims for specific oppression as will best satisfy and gratify his diabolical pleasure in seeing the followers of his rival suffer. He oppresses only such as he is unable to possess. Many have been so troubled mentally that Christian living becomes a life and death struggle. Here we find another example of "wrestling not with flesh and blood." But some of Satan's greatest victories and rejoicings come from soul oppression. We believe this to be the real secret of our Lord's agony in the garden; it was the Devil's last opportunity to thwart the great plan of salvation. Oh, to cheat Calvary; put our "Lamb slain from the foundation of the world" in such physical, mental, and soul burdened agony He would refuse at the last moment to do all the will of His Father. How near he came to accomplishing the diabolical scheme we learn from the story as given by inspiration. We remember His piteous remark as they left the Paschal room: "My soul is exceedingly sorrowful, even unto death"; then He cries out in anguish: "If it is possible, let this cup pass from Me." Never was He nearer the great Father heart, and never was He more a man than at this time; and as a man, perhaps during the terrible crisis, He did not analyze His sufferings and emotions. All the powers of hell were combined to crush Him at the hour for which He came into the world. Every student of soul tragedy can appreciate, in a limited degree, the experiences of Gethsemane. Paul had this exact experience in mind when he wrote of the "evil days" in which we had to "wrestle." What are evil days? Days when the heavens are brass, and the fountains of prayer are dried up; a cold, sinking sensation clutches the heart. The mind is in a jumble, plans are thwarted, the mail brings a message of some deception or betrayal, the hand slips, fires go out, trains missed, pressing duties remain undone; nervous anxiety and evil forebodings chill the soul. The mind and heart are filled with dread; cold perspiration swells into beads upon the brow. Evil days! Oh, how we stumble and blunder; we cannot even think of advancement. Paul says we can only stand still, and having done all, stand. Many who are not familiar with the nature of such "days" will cast away their faith, believing that their "feelings" are the index to the state of grace in the heart. But, thank God, a crushing defeat came to this traitor-prince in that the full programme leading up to the world's great Atonement was carried out to the letter. It was not the physical fear of death which caused the blood-sweating agony of our Lord; if so, thousands have met the martyr's end far more triumphantly than did He. Some believe it was the weight of the world's sin breaking His heart. Both the physical dread of death and sin burden may have entered into the garden tragedy; but it was, we repeat with emphasis, the myrmidons of hell taking the advantage of His humanity at the crisis of His life: _It was Devil Oppression_. Devil oppression does not always come in a diseased body, a confused mind, or in days of soul depression. But sometimes they are new, instantaneous, fierce, overwhelming, and always from different angles and approaches. A vile suggestion, a remembered sin, long ago under the blood, a strong inclination to commit revolting deeds. An eminent, and deeply-pious divine of the South tells in his autobiography that while alone in his study, in meditation and prayer, he was strangely assaulted by the Devil. For more than an hour the inclination to blaspheme was almost beyond his control; it seemed that vile oaths would well up in his mouth and almost leap from his tongue. So terrible was the attack that deliverance came only after a long struggle on his face crying out audibly to God. Then the dark cloud of bat-winged vampires, almost visible, left as mysteriously as they came. It was Devil Oppression. XXIX DEVIL ABDUCTION "Now the Spirit speaketh expressly, that in the latter times some shall depart from the faith, giving heed to seducing spirits."--_1 Timothy iv. 1._ "And no marvel; for Satan himself is transformed into an angel of light."--_2 Corinthians xi. 14._ We used the above Scriptures in a former chapter, but with special reference to "doctrines"; the part we wish to emphasize now, "giving heed to seducing spirits": that is to say, be led away or abducted by the Devil or demon. There are four classes of people who may be subjected to the seductive influence of evil spirits. We should keep in mind that the "prince of this world" and his emissaries were once angels, and of course, when necessary, can bring their angelic attributes into seductive usefulness. One of the problems facing the Church and all religious workers is to keep the converts or communicants in line; steady them in the presence of deflecting influences. The Church is suffering from the inroads of every conceivable brand: isms, cults, fads, worldliness, etc., which always mean, not only usefulness paralyzed, but the loss of Church and Bible ideals. How many among us who once ran well, but are now tilted, side-tracked, derailed, and ditched. We are encompassed about with ten thousand plausible, seductive tenets, arguments and theories, which if yielded to will result in utter religious ruin. There are four classes of possible victims, all sincere and conscientious, none of which are basely wicked. First: the unregenerate who are blindly seeking the light, but following the inner voice and promptings, rather than the Word of God. These become easy victims to the charms (?) of Christian Science, Theosophy, Spiritualism, Mormonism, etc. Once inducted, there follows a mental refreshing, and a carnal peace, which bring the "soul rest" and "assurance" they eagerly sought. These cults are lauded and believed as modern "revelations," but they are only _new clothes_ stretched over the dried mental mummies which lived and moved in the early centuries and dead civilizations. Various shades and deductions from old Hindoo philosophy, Egyptian magic, Gnosticism, Stoicism, �stheticism, Asceticism are paraded so as to catch the cultured, twentieth century devotee. In whatever form it may come, the beauty worshippers of �stheticism, the mental anesthetics of Christian Science, or the debasing sensuality of Mormonism, it is "led away by the Devil or a demon." A writer on modern Spirits says: "Extraordinary spiritism of to-day is but the continuation of the worship of the old idol Tammuz, as worshipped by the corrupt Israelites and Canaanites, and the Adonis, as worshipped by the Greeks. The indecent practices of these mediums made it necessary to seek darkness to cover their vileness." Ezekiel, in the eighth chapter, speaks of it; the Delphic Oracle practiced the same iniquity: the personification of lust. The second class of possible victims is the regenerated believer or nominal professor of religion. It is the belief of the writer that no greater havoc is being wrought anywhere in the realm of religious aspiration than is being done to-day among professing church-members, sane, perchance--who once knew the secrets of saving faith. To this class there seems to be two horns in the dilemma of abduction. As an eminent author says: "If we give the preponderant attention to the providences which appertain to the body, there is danger of becoming deistical and materialistic in our views. If we study the word alone, without due appreciation of the Spirit and providence, there is danger of drifting away into dead formality, drying up, becoming creedistic, theoretical, and unspiritual." What can check the materialistic trend of the times? What can save the Church from reflex influences of modern materialism? Somehow, we have reached the place where things must appeal to the senses: we must taste, handle, smell, see, etc.; things in the Church, as well as out, have jostled down to a metallic basis: something for so much. In the same degree, deny it as we will, our religion ceases to be a religion of faith. Then, on the other hand, the history of Christendom from the beginning, without an exception, proves the second horn to the dilemma: as we lose the spiritual afflatus, we become ceremonial. Upon this reef of rocks our Church is crashing to-day. We see only the material; we have a mania for statistics, figures. Our Sunday-schools seek organization, grades, banners, honour rolls, numbers. Great schools are pushed with enthusiasm by unconverted officers and teachers. About ninety per cent. swarm out and away from the Church and rarely if ever remain for the preaching of the Word. In fearful, glaring reality we can see in all this ceremonialism and dress parade Demoniacal Abduction. The third class is much smaller; they are the select few who live in the inner circle of things. Having been brought from darkness unto light they seek to walk in all the light, and to live continually in the good, acceptable, and perfect will of God. This class are the sworn, uncompromising enemies of Satan's kingdom; but often their zeal is without knowledge. Perchance, many are weak and unlearned. Satan will leave the multitude of mystery workers and formalists to make havoc among these saintly ones. All that he accomplishes here cuts like a two-edged sword: the individual ruin, and the deadening, paralyzing influence to the cause of truth. By what method does he gain access? Abduction is only possible here where preponderant emphasis is placed on the leadership of the Spirit without careful, diligent adhesion to the Word. The Word is the Spirit's weapon; without it he is handicapped. What is the result? Fanaticism, dreams, visions, wild-fire, extreme positions on dress, food, domestic relations, etc., until they are "led away by a demon beyond recall." Shipwrecked, "affinities," free love, infidelity, are inevitable. Wherever societies, communities, or churches become inoculated with the virus of any of these phases of fanaticism--untold harm surely follows. The Devil is responsible for the religious "craze," and will then exaggerate by lies and misrepresentation before the unbelievers. The fourth class are, of all, the most to be pitied, and no work of the "angel of the pit" is so hellish as his operation and strategy upon an awakened soul. Those who are in religious work are grieved continually at seeing the process chilled and defeated at a point which would soon result in deliverance from the bondage of evil. Satan actually assumes the person of the Holy Ghost. Strange and amazing as this sounds, it is nevertheless true. As soon as the soul is awakened he assumes a general godfather sort of relation to the penitent one. Advice and suggestions flood his mind: his pride, clothes, reputation, business, and all are used as arguments. "You should be a Christian--join the church--it is your duty; but when you make a start, _be sure_ you have a genuine experience. You are conscientious--anything but a hypocrite with you. Now this is not an opportune time, etc., etc.," on and on, until the penitent refuses to arise and go to his Father's house. Procrastination; Satan literally drags him away from the mercy seat. How can he do this? Where is the Holy Ghost all this time? Why does He not protect His identity? So long as a man is in sin he has a nature that is not subject to the law of God, and cannot be: carnal mind, old man. On this territory Satan has right of way; under the guise of one seeking to help them in their confusion and sorrow, he manipulates until prevenient grace is grieved away. The poor deluded soul has been "led away by a demon." It is Devil Abduction. XXX THE RATIONALE OF SUICIDE "And he cast down the pieces of silver in the temple, and went and hanged himself."--_Matthew xxvii. 5._ "He drew out his sword, and would have killed himself, supposing that the prisoners had been fled."--_Acts xvi. 27._ The Devil was a murderer from the beginning of human history; his first bloodshed was fratricide--growing out of religious jealousy. He is the father of murder and murderers. This crime, provoked or unprovoked, is monstrous; the passions that incite it were born in the pit. Then what may be said of self-murder: suicide? It is the most fearful, unnatural, abnormal of all forms of demise. Every impulse of reason and judgment revolts at the thought. The Master Himself drew back from death; the Book says death is an enemy. Various and satisfactory explanations always follow the news of suicide, "financial reverses," "ill health," "public exposure," "domestic troubles," "melancholia," etc., etc. These explanations will not stand under the light of close scrutiny; reverses and misfortunes are generally contributing causes, but not sufficient to answer fully the horrors of suicide. We hesitate to discuss this gruesome subject, but the character study of these pages would not be complete without it. We speak not with any degree of dogmatism or claim of superior insight to hidden truth, but in the fear of God we are persuaded that not a single case of suicide, since the race took up its painful march, came about from natural causes. Satan, the embodiment of monstrosities, is responsible. Suicide is numbered among our vexing problems; reckoned on the basis of population, suicide has increased one hundred and fifty per cent. in two decades. Scientists are tremendously interested; thoughtful people are alarmed. Psychological and sociological authorities tell us that _poverty_, _disappointed affection_, and _dissipation_ are the chief causes. The problem can never be solved by social and scientific speculation. We must cross over the borderland into the supernatural before all the angles of the problem are met and satisfied. There is some strange history connected with suicide. Greek philosophers wrote about it; whether among heathen or civilized peoples, it was considered a disgrace. The Greeks buried them at night--on the public highways, and without religious ceremonies; and their goods were confiscated for the Crown. We wish to emphasize a former statement: suicide is _unnatural_; it sets aside her first law. The law of self-preservation holds good in every walk of life; when we cease to love life, the deepest principle of our being is out of balance. The body is holy, and when it is destroyed, the highest _felo de se_ is committed; not only so, it is assuming the prerogative which belongs alone to God. "It is appointed unto man once to die." Life is a sacred gift. There are two kinds of suicide: the responsible and irresponsible. The first often appears to have been deliberately planned, the act of a sane, rational mind. However, the best alienists say some phase of insanity always accompanies this rash act. The second are mentally deranged, for which there are many causes. Two classes, also, as to character are found among the unfortunates: the religious and irreligious. What then may we conclude from the most mysterious tragedy on earth? Satan always scores a victory when a neighbourhood is shocked by the news of a suicide; the victory is direct and indirect. If the victim is prepared or unprepared, sane or insane, the crime can somehow never be forgiven. A strange demoralizing influence is always felt; a feeling of horror and depression. If the victim is pious, and many, many are the most devout in the church, do they forfeit their salvation by the _felo de se_? Not necessarily. Now we wish to say here, with every word underscored: _no sane, devout person will destroy themselves_. Where, then, is the motive and victory of Satan? Much, every way. The whole church or community will be religiously paralyzed. It is generally believed that no self-murderer can be saved. But behold a sainted mother in Israel found hanging in the barn: we have in mind just such an incident, and remember also the gloom, the depression, the silent whispers, the downcast look on the faces of all who knew her. Satan may know that he has nothing directly to gain, but, indirectly, doubt and discouragement prevail. Anything to get the world to doubt God. A very devout man, writing of a personal experience, says: "There seemed to be some designing spirit near me for days that constantly whispered in my ear, and sometimes it seemed almost audible, "Go kill thyself; you have disgraced your Redeemer and you are not fit to live." Scores of such testimonies are on record. Think of the logical traps used by the Designer to incite the deed: if poverty, "My family will be cared for better than I can." If a suffering body, "This will cure me of my pain." If fear of exposure, "That will end it--charity will forgive me then." If hopeless over some sin, "Better die than face the disgrace. It will solve all the problems," says the Tempter. It is often remarked concerning some one: "How cowardly;" but it is not cowardice; it is inability to answer the Devil's logic to commit suicide. Again, gruesome as it is, and here is more strange evidence in favour of the satanic explanation: It is fearfully contagious. Professor Bailey, of Yale, said that the report of a suicide by any special method will be followed by others in the same manner. Morbid, despondent people hear of it and follow the example. That which should be revolting in the extreme possesses a strange charm. Ingersol toured the country at one time advocating suicide as the best way out of life's difficulties. Many took his advice and a fearful epidemic followed. One young man in a rural community of Illinois committed suicide; three others, all associates, followed in a few weeks. No special motive could be given for either. We are forced to place the blame where it belongs, and sympathize with the victims. XXXI DEVIL WORSHIP "Then he forsook God which made him, and lightly esteemed the Rock of his salvation. They provoked him to jealousy with strange gods, with abominations provoked they him to anger. They sacrificed unto devils, not to God; to gods whom they knew not."--_Deuteronomy xxxii. 15-17._ "But I say the things which the Gentiles sacrificed, they sacrificed to devils, and not to God: and I would not that ye should have fellowship with devils. Ye cannot drink the cup of the Lord, and the cup of devils: ye cannot be partakers of the Lord's table, and the table of devils."--_1 Corinthians x. 20-21._ Satan's consuming passion is thirst for power. He is the "prince of darkness," but also the "god of this world," and this long period of satanic rule is called _night_. God's glorious Sabbath of rest was superseded by the black intervention of toil and suffering. Satan's scheming fight has been for the rulership of this world. He succeeded in winning the entire antediluvian world, which to save the coming generations necessitated the Flood. He began adroitly with the only remaining family; swept the postdiluvian peoples into midnight heathenism. To-day, nearly one billion descendants of Noah worship not God--but _demonian_--demons, just what the Greeks and Romans worshipped in Apostolic times. No less than two hundred and fifty million are devil worshippers by name. Satan began his fight of opposition by assuming the form or incarnating himself in the body of a snake. Therefore it is not an accident, growing out of mythological tradition, that serpent worship has been the chief religion of many peoples. The Egyptians worshipped Set, which personified all evil--enemy of all good--they called Typhon, a monstrous serpent-like animal. To this god human sacrifices were offered on great religious holidays. It is no accident that the millions who know not the true God nevertheless, some way, learned to worship the Devil, and generally in the form of a serpent. The Egyptians had a serpent-god in Typhon; the Canaanites worshipped a snake in the days of Abraham; the Babylonians worshipped Python, which is a specie of the most deadly reptile on earth, and another name for Typhon. On the monuments and tablets of many dead civilizations the engravings of serpents show their particular customs of devil worship. The American Indians were snake worshippers; in Ohio an altar more than a half mile in length remains in good preservation. This altar is one of the wonders, being a perfect outline of a gigantic snake. We readily see that tribal association and tradition have had nothing to do with the customs of our own aborigines; the same being who inspired the peoples of the Old Orient, millenniums ago, to worship the snake-devil inspired our red men in his primeval forest. David speaks of demon worship: "Yea they sacrificed their sons and daughters unto _Shadim_." Jereboam built places to worship evil spirits; the ordained priests to serve the altars of "Satyrs," and children were offered. The Molech of the Canaanites was also devil worship; when the Israelites forgot God, they "caused their children to pass through the fire unto Molech," an evil god. The damsel whom Paul delivered possessed the spirit of Python--the snake. The priestesses of the Delphic oracles prophesied by the spirit of Python; this was the dominant religion throughout Greece. The Aztec war god of the Montezumas, where two hundred and fifty thousand human skulls were found in the temple, was a bloody system of devil worship. The Yezidis of Persia, descendants of the early Python worshippers, worship the Devil to-day, and are known as such. We are not confined to heathenism, ancient or modern, to find the same religion of "divinations." The best authorities of Spiritualism believe that the supernatural, occult demonstrations, as produced in their séances, are from demon agencies. The whole system of mythology grew out of what is to-day the work of mediums. The Old Testament is filled with statements concerning "familiar spirits"; they heard voices, received messages, saw physical disturbances--just as may be witnessed at any spiritual séance. The most reliable of mediums do not deny that evil spirits (damned demons) come to them at times. One fact is noteworthy: when men and women become spiritists, they discard all the essentials of the Christian faith. They are modern types of demon possession. It is no unusual thing during a séance to hear a regular clash of voices: blasphemy, oaths, vulgar, obscene language, terrible threats, etc. What connection do we find between Devil worship and modern Spiritualism? First, the moral condition among the spiritists is exactly as it was among the ancient priests and priestesses in the temples of Devil worship; they literally worshipped the Devil in their corrupt, degrading practices. Now, among the votaries of Spiritualism, every iniquity, crime, and indecency known among men and women are daily carried on. Such is the testimony of one of their travelling lecturers. One of their noted mediums when under control delivered this message: "Curse the marriage institution; cursed be the relation of husband and wife; cursed be all who sustain the legal marriage." From what source could we expect such a vile deliverance? Second, their mediums actually pray to Satan. One of their advocates at the opening of a debate with a Christian minister at San Jose, Cal., prayed in the following language: "O Devil, Prince of Demons in the Christian's Hell; oh, thou Monarch of the bottomless pit; thou King of Scorpions, I beseech thee to hear my prayer. Thou seest the terrible straits in which I am placed, matched in debate with a big gun of Christianity. Remember, O Prince of Brimstone, that when thou stretchest forth thine arm the Christian God cannot stand before thee for a moment. Bless thy servant in his labours for thee; fill his mouth with wisdom; enable him to defend thee from the false charges of thy sulphurous Majesty, so that this audience may know and realize that thou art a prayer hearing and a prayer answering devil" (abbreviated). Similar prayers are frequently published in the _Banner of Light_, the organ of this cult; prayers formulated in the same language as prayers offered to the God of heaven. It cannot be doubted that Pagan religion and modern Spiritualism are Devil worship, shifting under various forms and ceremonies in different ages and places. Rev. B. Clough, missionary in Ceylon, says: "I now state, and I wish it to be heard in every corner of the Christian world, that the devil is regularly, systematically, and ceremoniously worshipped by a large majority of the inhabitants of the Island of Ceylon." We repeat: his consuming passion is to be worshipped. XXXII VICTORY THROUGH THE VICTOR "This is the victory that overcometh the world, even our faith. Who is he that overcometh the world, but he that believeth that Jesus Christ is the Son of God?"--_1 John v. 4-5._ "Ye are of God, little children, and have overcome them: because greater is he that is in you than he that is in the world."--_1 John iv. 4._ One of the grave dangers of to-day is that Satan is no longer regarded as a Personality. Even among those whose faith is founded on the word of God, the idea of an orthodox devil smacks of superstition and an exploded hoax from the Dark Ages. "Let us hear the love side of the gospel; away with this devil and hell business--it's too dreadful," they declare. His real existence and personality are ridiculed in many pulpits and lecture platforms. When these ideas become common among the people who think, a wide open field remains for him to work unmolested. We can also go to the other extreme: that is, to think him a greater being than the Son of God. Those who have followed us through these chapter studies will, we fear, come to some such conclusion. Who can be equal for such a mighty Prince? Now this biography was undertaken that we might have a full, life-sized photo of our Enemy. In this we cannot exaggerate the true status of the case; any less conception of Satan than we have portrayed will put us at a serious disadvantage in the life struggle. He is a real foe, and we must meet him in the open, under cover, and invisibly. Let it be written in black-faced caps, and heavily underscored: Satan is all we can find out about him--plus, with emphasis on the plus. We want to keep in mind clearly the Enemy, the battle-ground, and the battle; we can never match swords with him; to ignore him--big, cunning, supernatural, eternally at it--will be the most dangerous folly. But--there is victory, complete, overwhelming victory for every one who fights; but bear in mind it must be a fighter. There is one Name which never fails to reverberate from the Throne of God to the cavernous pits of darkness; this Name shakes loose the grip, untangles the web of all the allied powers of the Prince of Night. Satan is mighty, Jesus is almighty; he met his Waterloo. Jesus was never defeated. His first defeat was when he was an archangel; he was overthrown and cast out of heaven. Jesus said: "I was present when Satan fell like lightning from heaven." He was also defeated in the wilderness; again in the Garden, and at Calvary. In fact, on every battle-field where he met the Lord Christ the defeat was stunning, humiliating. Now we are in mortal combat with him, and we must not forget--he has been many times defeated. A writer says: "We have the advantage of fighting a defeated foe." Standing alone, we are doomed to utter defeat, capture, ruin; but if our fight is coupled with the Name of Jesus, our triumph is as certain as our defeat will be without Him. So long as we muster in as munitions of war our intellect, self-sufficiency, egotism, etc., the cohorts will laugh at our delusion. There is but One who can out-general his maneuvres, silence his thunderings, checkmate his diabolical acumen, know his oily, snaky approaches, penetrate his angelic beneficence, understand his insidious schemes: that One knew him from the beginning, and--outranked him in heaven and conquered him on earth. This question arises: If Satan has been conquered, and Jesus is yet contending with him for world-wide supremacy--why the almost universal triumph of evil? Why is true righteousness at such a discount? Why are the fighters failing and falling all around us? If these questions cannot be answered with a degree of sound reasoning, the whole problem of life, Bible, God, Atonement, Gospel are in a hopeless tangle. A Chinese puzzle does not compare with a riddle of everything worth while, visible and invisible. Satan undoubtedly controls the machinery of this world. Then wherein is the "victory that overcometh the world"? Let us keep in mind the power, resources, opportunities, organization, and management of Satan; also the blindness and bondage of sin, and--the Free Agency of Man. So long as man remains carnally-minded and free, the Enemy has undisputed right of way; while the heart is carnal, impure, unsanctified, the controlling motive power of man's life "is not subject to the law of God, neither indeed can be." He has in his own bosom a traitor, an alien to the government of God. "To be carnally minded is death," says Paul. The "old leaven must be purged out"; we must "put off the old man (carnal mind) and his deeds, and put on the new man, etc." This putting off is absolutely necessary. Jesus cannot only defeat Satan, but He can destroy the "works of the devil"--one of which is the alien principle of our nature. "For this purpose the Son of God was manifested, that He might destroy the works of the Devil." The life, death, and resurrection of Jesus--the God-Man--is an everlasting Atonement and a propitiation for sin. Sin is the Rubicon of our battle; once we solve, in all its fullness, the problem of sin, we rob Satan of his fulcrum power. He came to Jesus and found nothing: no availability, no sin, no yielding, no fellowship. He was tempted, but _without sin_. Our victory must be twofold: first, through the merits of the Everlasting Blood Covenant we may be saved from sin unto salvation--reconciliation, forgiveness. Then by the fuller benefits of the Atonement we may "enter into the holiest by the Blood." Only the pure in heart can stand the approaches of Satan by way of our natural appetites. The triumphs of modern surgery are only possible by means of sterilized instruments. Please observe--with all the meaning that can be couched in language: the sinful, unregenerated heart is not only in danger of being overcome, but is already in blind bondage to Satan. The power of sin, both actual and original, must be broken by the pardoning grace of God through faith in the Atoning Blood; and the heart cleansed and empowered by the Baptism of the Holy Ghost. The second inevitable concomitant of victory is copartnership with Jesus, the Captain of our salvation--"looking unto Jesus the author and finisher of our faith." Diabolus and his minions cannot stand before this Name. His final overthrow was when Jesus cried out on the Cross: "It is finished." Now at the sight of Jesus, the Cross, or the Blood, the phalanx of darkness slinks away. Let us lay hold of eternal life by an unfaltering faith in the Blood that cleanseth, and "The Name high over all: in earth, in heaven, in hell." "And they overcame him through the blood of the Lamb, and the word of their testimony." Amen and Amen. XXXIII THE ARREST AND IMPRISONMENT "For the devil is come down unto you, having great wrath, because he knoweth that he hath but a short time."--_Revelation xii. 12._ "And I saw an angel come down from heaven, having the key of the bottomless pit and a great chain in his hand. And he laid hold on the dragon, that old serpent, which is the Devil, and Satan, and bound him a thousand years, and cast him into the bottomless pit, and shut him up, and set a seal upon him."--_Revelation xx. 1-3._ The fact of a possible victory through the Name of our great Conqueror does not alone satisfy all the items of the indictment. If such were the only background to the picture, great as it is, the human drama is not only a fierce tragedy, but a miserable farce. Thank God, personal victory is not all; there is a rift in the dark satanic cloud which has hung over the world for so many millenniums. Satan is in great wrath, and his power and influence grow steadily stronger; more and more his iron grip fastens about the throat of the world. The Apostasy of which Christ and His Apostles wrote is becoming a reality. Satan will score one more gigantic victory; then is our "blessed hope of His glorious appearing," when He shall come and catch away His Bride--the Church, both dead and alive; that part of His following who are united to Him and are earnestly yearning for His coming. This event is called by devout scholars "The Rapture." Just where, how, when, or how long, we have only a vague prophetic conjecture. "Where, Lord?" they ask. "And He said unto them, Wheresoever the body is, thither will the eagles be gathered together." When the Rapture shall have taken place, Satan will have undisputed dominion; then shall the "Man of Sin" appear, setting himself up as God--to be worshipped. His reign will be the Great Tribulation; all the influences of righteousness will, for the time, be removed--the earth will reek in corruption and bloodshed. It is implied that, so terrible will be this time, divine intervention must necessarily shorten the Tribulation, else no flesh will be left on the earth. The Great Tribulation will be the climax of the Devil's rule on earth. It seems that he will incarnate himself in a Man, giving him supernatural knowledge and power. However, something spectacular and sensational will soon occur. When the leader of a gang of thugs or desperadoes is arrested, his followers are filled with fear and consternation; then think of the excitement. An Angel officer will break in on the scene--yes, that is exactly what the Book tells us: the High Sheriff of Heaven will suddenly step down from headquarters, and will lay hold--arrest the Old Dragon--Satan--Devil--Serpent (observe all his names are mentioned). Whatever his titles and distinctions of the past have been, they will not save him in that hour. The Apocalyptic Vision is unmistakable. Some can see in this wonderful language only an allegory: the good influences are to gradually bind the influences of evil, and to expect such an event as the literal arrest of the Devil is a wild, irrational, unscientific, unreasonable dream. Our Lord said, speaking of the time of the end, that the same social conditions as prevailed in the days of Noah were to be repeated: wicked ones waxing worse and worse; scarcely any living in the fear of God. To expect to see a gradual regeneration of society, politics, commerce, and the Church--until evil will be overruled, chained as it were--seems to be a gigantic travesty on language and the teaching of the Bible. We prefer to stand by the Book rather than human interpretation--fixed up to justify the methods and results of modern religious propaganda. An angel appears--evidently an archangel: one belonging to the rank of which the fallen Prince formerly belonged. This Sheriff of the skies is equipped for his undertaking; Officers carry handcuffs with which to bind prisoners--the angel has a great chain in his hand; he lays hold--arrests the old skulking, hateful, murderous Devil. This angel-officer has also a key, and it is the key which locks the door of the bottomless pit. This door has been wide open; Satan and his emissaries could go and come at pleasure. Just as an officer arrests a desperado and leads him off to prison--so will the archangel arrest the Devil and lock him up in the pit of darkness and despair. What will be done with his millions of cohorts? We can judge only by inference. We want to stay close to the inspired record; of one thing, however, we are confident: the footstool of God will be absolutely cleared of Devil and demons; "that they shall deceive the nations no more." The prophetic picture of the divine court proceedings is very specific: we have the exact length of the prison sentence--_one thousand years_. When we remember the crimes, unnumbered crimes, the sentence seems to be an example of court leniency. But this is only a "binding over," as it were, to the real trial and judgment yet to come. This will be temporary imprisonment; but oh, it will be such a glad, happy day. The vision of Isaiah, thirty-fifth chapter, will be literally fulfilled. The sceptre so long in the hand of a traitor--usurper--will pass into the hand of the Prince of Peace. Yes, we will strengthen our weak hands and confirm our feeble knees--Satan at last locked up. We shall witness with joy unspeakable and full of glory--"the Restoration of All Things." "And the earth shall be filled with the knowledge of the glory of the Lord, as the waters cover the sea." Thank God forever. XXXIV THE FINAL CONSUMMATION "And the devil that deceived them was cast into the lake of fire and brimstone, where the beast and the false prophet are, and shall be tormented day and night forever and ever."--_Revelation xx. 10._ After the long term of imprisonment shall have ended, we are told that Satan shall be loosed out of his prison for a season. This is difficult to explain; but we do not presume to question the administration of God's government: "Will not the Judge of all the earth do right?" Satan, like many other confirmed, apostate criminals, immediately on being released, plunges more deeply into crime than before. The long term of imprisonment and punishment hardens and, if possible, more nearly consumes him with wrath. At once he launches another world-wide campaign of deception, gathering, rallying, mustering, and drilling his forces: those who by an exercise of free choice, notwithstanding the glorious millennium reign, actually fall away and enlist under the black pirate flag once more. He encompasses the whole face of the earth; like a deposed crown prince, he leads an aggressive warfare to regain the honours and influence which he so long enjoyed on the earth. Now if the binding of Satan is only a figure of the leavening power of righteousness overpowering the evil--what is the _thing_ which shall be unchained and loosened? Such a contention is as unanswerable as it is untenable. We will repeat once more, with each word underscored: _Good or Evil cannot exist except in a Personality_. The same school of theologians who deny the personality of Satan, many of them, see nothing in the Person of Christ except a _Christ spirit_, inherent good, etc.; all of which is unadulterated infidelity. Just another method of "blasting at the Rock of Ages." Satan shall be locked in a prison for one thousand years--then he shall be loosed, and every moment of his freedom will be occupied in preparation for the last Armageddon. He does not foresee future events, and it is possible he does not understand this to be his final struggle; otherwise he would be unable to inspire such a following. As we read this brief but vivid picture of the Gog and Magog engagement, the marshalling and shifting for position of Napoleon and Wellington, preparatory to their decisive battle, in comparison to this gathering, will be like a cadet sham engagement. It seems that the lines of fortification will reach out over the entire earth, mobilizing around the Holy City. The saints, also, are gathered into encampment; whether for preparation to meet the forces of Satan, or for protection, the prophecy does not state; but all the powers of light and darkness are brought face to face. The battle never reaches a real encounter; the impudence and rebellion of the deposed prince and ex-convict arouses the wrath of God as never before. The cup of His indignation is full to the overflowing, and He brings the fearful conflict to a spectacular ending. The destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah was a microscopic event compared with the rain of fire that shall fall in consuming vengeance upon the Devil and his followers, both men and demons. The saints shall be delivered in that awful hour, and this is the last shifting of the scene; the bell will ring, as it were, and the curtain will fall, closing out the long tragic history of the old world. We are not dogmatic as to the chronological order of these mighty events, but as closely as we can gather them from the Word, the next move of these wonders in heaven and in earth will be the ushering in of the Last Judgment. The _Deis Ira_ breaks in upon the universe; the Great White Throne will swing into view. During the vision of millennial vision, its reign--John saw "thrones"; Christ and His Church ruling jointly the kingdoms of earth; He then is the Chief Shepherd, the King of kings and Lord of lords--holding the sceptre of universal empire. But now when the _Deis Ira_ dawns, there will be just One Throne, and God Himself will sit upon it. If the reader wishes a detailed description of this Last Day, it can be found in the sixth chapter of Revelation, where the whole programme is thrown into a composite picture: "The Opening of the Seven Seals." Each seal is a separate prophecy or act of events from Alpha to Omega of things. Language breaks all bounds of rhetoric, poetry, and definition: "And I beheld when he had opened the sixth seal, and lo, there was a great earthquake, and the sun became as black as the sackcloth of hair, and the moon became as blood, and the stars of the heaven fell unto the earth, even as a fig tree casteth her untimely figs, when she is shaken of a mighty wind. And the heaven departed as a scroll when it is rolled together; and every mountain and island were moved out of their places." Note the effect this marvellous demonstration will have upon the followers of the traitor-prince: "And the kings of the earth, and the great men, and the rich men, and the chief captains, and the mighty men, and every bondman, and every free man, hid themselves in the dens and in the rocks of the mountains; and said to the rocks and the mountains, fall on us, and hide us from the face of Him that sitteth on the throne, and from the wrath of the Lamb: for the great day of His wrath has come; and who shall be able to stand." All the souls that have lived on the earth, good and bad, saints and sinners, Devil and demons, will stand before the Throne and be judged. The words, thoughts, and deeds of men and devils shall be made known. The final doom of the Devil and his angels will be shown up in detail before an assembled universe: the Godhead, angels, archangels, cherubim and seraphim, and all that have lived upon this planet. Hence, the last and final scene of the Epilogue: "And the devil that deceived them was cast into the lake of fire and brimstone ... and shall be tormented day and night forever and ever." Amen and Amen. XXXV SATANIC SYMBOL IN NATURE "For the invisible things of him from the creation of the world are clearly seen, being understood by the things that are made."--_Romans i. 20._ The evolution of Christian scholarship, during the recent decades, has wrought wonders in bringing about absolute harmony of science and religion. Under the microscope, and through the telescope, men whose hearts are trained as well as their brains, the great book of Nature is found to be a commentator and expositor of the Book of Revelation. They have not only studied and theorized about the science of religion; but by laws of induction and deduction have discovered a "Religion of Science," and when properly understood and applied is not out of harmony with the most orthodox faith. Just as chemistry, geology, zoölogy, botany, astronomy, etc., whether seen in the protozoa or the highest type of man; the animalculi (creatures which propagate their specie by millions in a day) or the elephant; the electrons or Polarius (our North Star which is one hundred times brighter, larger, and hotter than the sun)--all demonstrate laws, systems, design, purpose, and beneficence from the hand of a wise Father-Creator: so also are there other things in the physical world discovered by the student of nature which suggest an opposite being. We remember that even the ground was cursed when sin entered with its defiling touch; where flowers and fruits did once abound has come forth a crop of vile weeds, thorns, and poisonous vines. These occupy and will conquer in any soil on the earth--the Poe or Mississippi valleys, without the diligent, unceasing, systematic toil of man. There must be a continuous fight against these omnipresent enemies--in garden, in vineyard, on farm. Clean out every weed, allow none to produce seed of its kind; then leave the land for one year untouched, and it will be a ragged wilderness. Fruits, grains, and vegetables left to fight with these enemies of the soil, and, without a single exception anywhere, they are soon choked out and will die. Unaided by the skill of the gardener, the end is inevitable. But, observe again, fighting the soil demons and conquering them is only half the battle. There is not a tree, plant, shrub, vegetable, fruit, nor flower, in any latitude or zone, but that must contend with pests, parasites, and insects of all kinds. The herbivorous enemies are not limited to insects and creeping things, but actual diseases. Several of the choicest fruits have cancer; various blights have destroyed whole crops of cereals. Trees and vegetables have diseases that must be diagnosed and doctored as carefully as the family physician treats pneumonia or typhoid fevers. But this is not all: whole orchards are killed by the caterpillar; the boll-weevil has been known to devastate great sections in the wheat belt. The grub kills the corn as soon as it sprouts; the potato bug, the tobacco worm, the army worm, the Gypsy moth, celery worm, California scale, etc., on and on, until we find that every fruit, grain or vegetable is beset by some vermin destroyer which, if not removed or poisoned, will sting to death, or gnaw at the vitals until they wither and die. The horticultural kingdom must contend with imps of death until garnered safely in the harvest. When we examine the animal kingdom we find the same conditions obtain; every animal from the bug to the buzzard, from the ant to the elephant, from mice to monkeys, have a bitter struggle for existence. A distinguished German professor has this to say, addressing the Fishery Association of Berlin: "War is the watchword of the whole of organic nature; there is a constant war of all organisms against outward unfavourable circumstances, and there is a constant war among the different individuals. The seed grain which falls into the ground, the worm crawling on the earth, the butterfly hovering over the flower, the eagle soaring high among the clouds--all have their enemies; outward enemies threatening their existence, and enemies eating their life and strength." Following these remarks he gave a long list of fish parasites sufficient to destroy the whole finny kingdom. Another eminent naturalist, speaking of the perils of insect life, said: "With such savage murderers prowling among the shadows, life among our singing meadows is anything but a round of pleasure. The warfare is broadcast. Not even the fluttering butterfly is safe, but is pounced upon in mid-air, its wings torn off in mockery, and is then lugged off to some dark hole in the ground. And the bee returning to its hive is waylaid on the wing, and its body is torn open for the sake of the morsel of a honey-bag within." Still another scientist tells us: "The microscope shows that these murderous imps appear to have been made to inflict the most excruciating torture upon their victims." He makes special mention of the sand hornet: "He is the greatest villain that flies, and is built for a professional murderer. He carries two keen scimitars, besides a deadly poisoned poniard, and is armed throughout with a coat of mail. He lives a life of tyranny and feeds on blood." Every drop of water is swarming with hideous creatures which, if sufficiently magnified, would be frightful beyond description; the air we breathe is surcharged with death: infecting organisms which, if the system in the slightest degree becomes unable to eliminate them, bring on dreadful diseases. We must fight for our physical life daily. But for the immunity provisions of Providence, our bodies may be a charnal house, at any moment, of billions of bacilli hastening our end. These are stern facts which face every student of biology or natural history. As a professor has well said, "He, therefore, who objects to the teaching of the sacred Scriptures concerning Satan and demons, and appeals to the Cæsar of the natural world, can get no help, for that Cæsar echoes back with thunder tones that there are myriads of living, malignant and destructive organisms in every realm of nature, so far as is known, or so far as one can reason from analogy, that, like Satan and demons, trouble and torment the innocent as well as the guilty; that in some instances these malignant organisms appear to inflict suffering for the sheer delight of doing it." What is the conclusion of the whole matter: The existence of Diabolus and demonia is a fact of Revelation verified by both science and philosophy. _Printed in the United States of America_ 
40967	----	Transcriber's notes Variable spelling has been retained. Minor punctuation inconsistencies have been silently corrected. A list of other corrections can be found at the end of the book. Footnotes were sequentially numbered and placed at the end of the text. Mark up: _italics_ THE TRIAL OF JESUS [Illustration: CHRIST BEFORE PILATE (MUNKACSY)] THE TRIAL OF JESUS FROM A LAWYER'S STANDPOINT BY WALTER M. CHANDLER OF THE NEW YORK BAR VOLUME II THE ROMAN TRIAL THE EMPIRE PUBLISHING CO. 60 WALL STREET, NEW YORK CITY 1908 Copyright, 1908, by WALTER M. CHANDLER _All rights reserved_ LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS FACING PAGE CHRIST BEFORE PILATE (Munkacsy) _Frontispiece_ TIBERIUS CÆSAR (Antique Sculpture) 68 PONTIUS PILATE (Munkacsy) 81 CHRIST LEAVING THE PRÆTORIUM (Doré) 141 THE CRUCIFIXION (Munkacsy) 175 JUPITER (Antique Sculpture) 195 AVE CÆSAR! IO SATURNALIA (Alma-Tadema) 240 THE DYING GLADIATOR (Antique Sculpture) 260 READING FROM HOMER (Alma-Tadema) 270 CONTENTS OF VOLUME TWO PAGE PREFACE TO VOLUME TWO ix PART 1 _THE ROMAN TRIAL_ CHAPTER PAGE I. A TWOFOLD JURISDICTION 3 II. NUMBER OF REGULAR TRIALS 9 III. POWERS AND DUTIES OF PILATE 24 IV. MODE OF TRIAL IN ROMAN CAPITAL CASES 34 V. ROMAN FORMS OF PUNISHMENT 53 VI. ROMAN LAW APPLICABLE TO THE TRIAL OF JESUS 68 VII. PONTIUS PILATE 81 VIII. JESUS BEFORE PILATE 96 IX. JESUS BEFORE HEROD 119 X. JESUS AGAIN BEFORE PILATE 129 XI. LEGAL ANALYSIS AND SUMMARY OF THE ROMAN TRIAL OF JESUS 141 PART II _GRÆCO-ROMAN PAGANISM_ I. THE GRÆCO-ROMAN RELIGION 198 II. GRÆCO-ROMAN SOCIAL LIFE 236 _APPENDICES_ I. CHARACTERS OF THE SANHEDRISTS WHO TRIED JESUS 291 II. ACTS OF PILATE 327 BIBLIOGRAPHY 383 INDEX 389 PREFACE TO VOLUME TWO Sufficient was said concerning the entire work in the preface to volume one to warrant a very brief preface to volume two. The reader will notice that the plan of treatment of the Roman trial of Jesus is radically different from that employed in the Hebrew trial. There is no Record of Fact in the second volume, for the reason that the Record of Fact dealt with in the first volume is common to the two trials. Again, there is no Brief of the Roman trial and no systematic and exhaustive treatment of Roman criminal law in the second volume, corresponding with such a treatment of the Hebrew trial, under Hebrew criminal law, in the first volume. This is explained by the fact that the Sanhedrin found Jesus guilty, while both Pilate and Herod found Him not guilty. A proper consideration then of the Hebrew trial became a matter of review on appeal, requiring a Brief, containing a complete statement of facts, an ample exposition of law, and sufficient argument to show the existence of error in the judgment. The nature of the verdicts pronounced by Pilate and by Herod rendered these things unnecessary in dealing with the Roman trial. In Part II of this volume, Græco-Roman Paganism at the time of Christ has been treated. It is evident that this part of the treatise has no legal connection with the trial of Jesus. It was added simply to give coloring and atmosphere to the painting of the great tragedy. It will serve the further purpose, it is believed, of furnishing a key to the motives of the leading actors in the drama, by describing their social, religious, and political environments. The strictly legal features of a great criminal trial are rarely ever altogether sufficient for a proper understanding of even the judicial aspects of the case. The religious faith of Pilate, the judge, is quite as important a factor in determining the merits of the Roman trial, as is the religious belief of Jesus, the prisoner. This contention will be fully appreciated after a careful perusal of Chapter VI of this volume. Short biographical sketches of about forty members of the Great Sanhedrin who tried Jesus have been given under Appendix I at the end of this work. They were originally written by MM. Lémann, two of the greatest Hebrew scholars of France, and are doubtless authoritative and correct. These sketches will familiarize the reader with the names and characters of a majority of the Hebrew judges of Jesus. And it may be added that they are a very valuable addition to the general work, since the character of the tribunal is an important consideration in the trial of any case, civil or criminal. The apocryphal Acts of Pilate have been given under Appendix II. But the author does not thereby vouch for their authenticity. They have been added because of their very intimate connection with the trial of Jesus; and for the further reason that, whether authentic or not, quotations from them are to be found everywhere in literature, sacred and secular, dealing with this subject. The mystery of their origin, the question of their genuineness, and the final disposition that will be made of them, render the Acts of Pilate a subject of surpassing interest to the student of ancient documents. WALTER M. CHANDLER. NEW YORK CITY, July 1, 1908. PART I _THE ROMAN TRIAL_ Christus, Tiberio imperitante, per procuratorem Pontium Pilatum supplicio affectus est.--TACITUS. CHAPTER I A TWOFOLD JURISDICTION The Hebrew trial of Jesus having ended, the Roman trial began. The twofold character of the proceedings against the Christ invested them with a solemn majesty, an awful grandeur. The two mightiest jurisdictions of the earth assumed cognizance of charges against the Man of Galilee, the central figure of all history. "His tomb," says Lamartine, "was the grave of the Old World and the cradle of the New," and now upon His life before He descended into the tomb, Rome, the mother of laws, and Jerusalem, the destroyer of prophets, sat in judgment. The Sanhedrin, or Grand Council, which conducted the Hebrew trial of Jesus was the high court of justice and the supreme tribunal of the Jews. It numbered seventy-one members. Its powers were legislative, executive, and judicial. It exercised all the functions of education, of government, and of religion. It was the national parliament of the Hebrew Theocracy, the human administrator of the divine will. It was the most august tribunal that ever interpreted or administered religion to man. Its judges applied the laws of the most peculiar and venerable system of jurisprudence known to civilized mankind, and condemned upon the charge of blasphemy against Jehovah, the most precious and illustrious of the human race. Standing alone, the Hebrew trial of Christ would have been the most thrilling and impressive judicial proceeding in all history. The Mosaic Code, whose provisions form the basis of this trial, is the foundation of the Bible, the most potent juridical as well as spiritual agency in the universe. In all the courts of Christendom it binds the consciences, if it does not mold the convictions, of judge and jury in passing judgment upon the rights of life, liberty, and property. The Bible is everywhere to be found. It is read in the jungles of Africa, while crossing burning deserts, and amidst Arctic snows. No ship ever puts to sea without this sacred treasure. It is found in the cave of the hermit, in the hut of the peasant, in the palace of the king, and in the Vatican of the pope. It adorns the altar where bride and bridegroom meet to pledge eternal love. It sheds its hallowing influence upon the baptismal font where infancy is christened into religious life. Its divine precepts furnish elements of morals and manliness in formative life to jubilant youth; cast a radiant charm about the strength of lusty manhood; and when life's pilgrimage is ended, offer to the dying patriarch, who clasps it to his bosom, a sublime solace as he crosses the great divide and passes into the twilight's purple gloom. This noble book has furnished not only the most enduring laws and the sublimest religious truths, but inspiration as well to the grandest intellectual triumphs. It is literally woven into the literature of the world, and few books of modern times are worth reading that do not reflect the sentiments of its sacred pages. And it was the Mosaic Code, the basis of this book, that furnished the legal guide to the Sanhedrin in the trial of the Christ. Truly it may be said that no other trial mentioned in history would have been comparable to this, if the proceedings had ended here. But to the Hebrew was added Roman cognizance, and the result was a judicial transaction at once unique and sublime. If the sacred spirit of the Hebrew law has illuminated the conscience of the world in every age, it must not be forgotten that "the written reason of the Roman law has been silently and studiously transfused" into all our modern legal and political life. The Roman judicial system is incomparable in the history of jurisprudence. Judea gave religion, Greece gave letters, and Rome gave laws to mankind. Thus runs the judgment of the world. A fine sense of justice was native to the Roman mind. A spirit of domination was the mental accompaniment of this trait. The mighty abstraction called Rome may be easily resolved into two cardinal concrete elements: the Legion and the Law. The legion was the unit of the military system through which Rome conquered the world. The law was the cementing bond between the conquered states and the sovereign city on the hills. The legion was the guardian and protector of the physical boundaries of the Empire, and Roman citizens felt contented and secure, as long as the legionaries were loyal to the standards and the eagles. The presence of barbarians at the gate created not so much consternation and despair among the citizens of Rome, as did the news of the mutiny of the soldiers of Germanicus on the Rhine. What the legion was to the body, the law was to the soul of Rome--the highest expression of its sanctity and majesty. And when her physical body that once extended from Scotland to Judea, and from Dacia to Abyssinia was dead, in the year 476 A.D., her soul rose triumphant in her laws and established a second Roman Empire over the minds and consciences of men. The Corpus Juris Civilis of Justinian is a text-book in the greatest universities of the world, and Roman law is to-day the basis of the jurisprudence of nearly every state of continental Europe. The Germans never submitted to Cæsar and his legions. They were the first to resist successfully, then to attack vigorously, and to overthrow finally the Roman Empire. And yet, until a few years ago, Germans obeyed implicitly the edicts and decrees of Roman prætors and tribunes. Is it any wonder, then, that the lawyers of all modern centuries have looked back with filial love and veneration to the mighty jurisconsults of the imperial republic? Is it any wonder that the tragedy of the Prætorium and Golgotha, aside from its sacred aspects, is the most notable event in history? Jesus was arraigned in one day, in one city, before the sovereign courts of the universe; before the Sanhedrin, the supreme tribunal of a divinely commissioned race; before the court of the Roman Empire that determined the legal and political rights of men throughout the known world. The Nazarene stood charged with blasphemy and with treason against the enthroned monarchs represented by these courts; blasphemy against Jehovah who, from the lightning-lit summit of Sinai, proclaimed His laws to mankind; treason against Cæsar, enthroned and uttering his will to the world amidst the pomp and splendor of Rome. History records no other instance of a trial conducted before the courts of both Heaven and earth; the court of God and the court of man; under the law of Israel and the law of Rome; before Caiaphas and Pilate, as the representatives of these courts and administrators of these laws. Approaching more closely the consideration of the nature and character of the Roman trial, we are confronted at once by several pertinent and interesting questions. In the first place, were there two distinct trials of Jesus? If so, why were there two trials instead of one? Were the two trials separate and independent? If not, was the second trial a mere review of the first, or was the first a mere preliminary to the second? Again, what charges were brought against Jesus at the hearing before Pilate? Were these charges the same as those preferred against Him at the trial before the Sanhedrin? Upon what charge was He finally condemned and crucified? Again, what Roman law was applicable to the charges made against Jesus to Pilate? Did Pilate apply these laws either in letter or in spirit? Was there an attempt by Pilate to attain substantial justice, either with or without the due observance of forms of law? Did Pilate apply Hebrew or Roman law to the charges presented to him against the Christ? What forms of criminal procedure, if any, were employed by Pilate in conducting the Roman trial of Jesus? If not legally, was Pilate politically justified in delivering Jesus to be crucified? A satisfactory answer to several of these questions, in the introductory chapters of this volume, is deemed absolutely essential to a thorough understanding of the discussion of the trial proper which will follow. The plan proposed is to describe first the powers and duties of Pilate as presiding judge at the trial of Christ. And for this purpose, general principles of Roman provincial administration will be outlined and discussed; the legal and political status of the subject Jew in his relationship to the conquering Roman will be considered; and the exact requirements of criminal procedure in Roman capital trials, at the time of Christ, will, if possible, be determined. It is believed that in the present case it will be more logical and effective to state first what should have been done by Pilate in the trial of Jesus, and then follow with an account of what was actually done, than to reverse this order of procedure. CHAPTER II NUMBER OF REGULAR TRIALS _Were there two regular trials of Jesus?_ In the first volume of this work this question was reviewed at length in the introduction to the Brief. The authorities were there cited and discussed. It was there seen that one class of writers deny the existence of the Great Sanhedrin at the time of Christ. These same writers declare that there could have been no Hebrew trial of Jesus, since there was no competent Hebrew court in existence to try Him. This class of critics assert that the so-called Sanhedrin that met in the palace of Caiaphas was an ecclesiastical body, acting without judicial authority; and that their proceedings were merely preparatory to charges to be presented to Pilate, who was alone competent to try capital cases. Those who make this contention seek to uphold it by saying that the errors were so numerous and the proceedings so flagrant, according to the Gospel account, that there could have been no trial at all before the Sanhedrin; that the party of priests who arrested and examined Jesus did not constitute a court, but rather a vigilance committee. On the other hand, other writers contend that the only regular trial was that before the Sanhedrin; and that the appearance before Pilate was merely for the purpose of securing his confirmation of a regular judicial sentence which had already been pronounced. Renan, the ablest exponent of this class, says: "The course which the priests had resolved to pursue in regard to Jesus was quite in conformity with the established law. The plan of the enemies of Jesus was to convict Him, by the testimony of witnesses and by His own avowals, of blasphemy and of outrage against the Mosaic religion, to condemn Him to death according to law, and then to get the condemnation sanctioned by Pilate." Still another class of writers contend that there were two distinct trials. Innes thus tersely and forcibly states the proposition: "Whether it was legitimate or not for the Jews to condemn for a capital crime, on this occasion they did so. Whether it was legitimate or not for Pilate to try over again an accused whom they had condemned, on this occasion he did so. There were certainly two trials. And the dialogue already narrated expresses with a most admirable terseness the struggle which we should have expected between the effort of the Jews to get a mere countersign of their sentence, and the determination of Pilate to assume the full judicial responsibility, whether of first instance or of révision." This contention, it is believed, is right, and has been acted upon in dividing the general treatise into two volumes, and in devoting each to a separate trial of the case. Why were there two trials of Jesus? When the Sanhedrists had condemned Christ to death upon the charge of blasphemy, why did they not lead Him away to execution, and stone Him to death, as their law required? Why did they seek the aid of Pilate and invoke the sanction of Roman authority? The answer to these questions is to be found in the historic relationship that existed, at the time of the crucifixion, between the sovereign Roman Empire and the dependent province of Judea. The student of history will remember that the legions of Pompey overran Palestine in the year 63 B.C., and that the land of the Jews then became a subject state. After the deposition of Archelaus, A.D. 6, Judea became a Roman province, and was governed by procurators who were sent out from Rome. The historian Rawlinson has described the political situation of Judea, at the time of Christ, as "complicated and anomalous, undergoing frequent changes, but retaining through them all certain peculiarities which made that country unique among the dependencies of Rome. Having passed under Roman rule with the consent and by the assistance of a large party of its inhabitants, it was allowed to maintain for a while a sort of semi-independence. A mixture of Roman with native power resulted from this cause and a complication in a political status difficult to be thoroughly understood by one not native and contemporary." The difficulty in determining the exact political status of the Jews at the time of Christ has given birth to the radically different views concerning the number and nature of the trials of Jesus. The most learned critics are in direct antagonism on the point. More than forty years ago Salvador and Dupin debated the question in France. The former contended that the Sanhedrin retained complete authority after the Roman conquest to try even capital crimes, and that sentence of death pronounced by the supreme tribunal of the Jews required only the countersign or approval of the Roman procurator. On the other hand, it was argued by Dupin that the Sanhedrin had no right whatever to try cases of a capital nature; that their whole procedure was a usurpation; and that the only competent and legitimate trial of Christ was the one conducted by Pilate. How difficult the problem is of solution will be apparent when we reflect that both these disputants were able, learned, conscientious men who, with the facts of history in front of them, arrived at entirely different conclusions. Amidst the general confusion and uncertainty, the reader must rely upon himself, and appeal to the facts and philosophy of history for light and guidance. In seeking to ascertain the political relationship between Rome and Judea at the time of Christ, two important considerations should be kept in mind: (1) That there was no treaty or concordat, defining mutual rights and obligations, existing between the two powers; Romans were the conquerors and Jews were the conquered; the subject Jews enjoyed just so much religious and political freedom as the conquering Romans saw fit to grant them; (2) that it was the policy of the Roman government to grant to subject states the greatest amount of freedom in local self-government that was consistent with the interests and sovereignty of the Roman people. These two considerations are fundamental and indispensable in forming a correct notion of the general relations between the two powers. The peculiar character of Judea as a fragment of the mighty Roman Empire should also be kept clearly in mind. Roman conquest, from first to last, resulted in three distinct types of political communities more or less strongly bound by ties of interest to Rome. These classes were: (1) Free states; (2) allied states; and (3) subject states. The communities of Italy were in the main, free and allied, and were members of a great military confederacy. The provinces beyond Italy were, in the main, subject states and dependent upon the good will and mercy of Rome. The free states received from Rome a charter of privileges (_lex data_) which, however, the Roman senate might at any time revoke. The allied cities were bound by a sworn treaty (_fædus_), a breach of which was a cause of war. In either case, whether of charter or treaty, the grant of privileges raised the state or people on whom it was conferred to the level of the Italian communes and secured to its inhabitants absolute control of their own finances, free and full possession of their land, which exempted them from the payment of tribute, and, above all, allowed them entire freedom in the administration of their local laws. The subject states were ruled by Roman governors who administered the so-called law of the province (_lex provinciæ_). This law was peculiar to each province and was framed to meet all the exigencies of provincial life. It was sometimes the work of a conquering general, assisted by a commission of ten men appointed by the senate. At other times, its character was determined by the decrees of the emperor and the senate, as well as by the edicts of the prætor and procurator. In any case, the law of the province (_lex provinciæ_) was the sum total of the local provincial law which Rome saw fit to allow the people of the conquered state to retain, with Roman decrees and regulations superadded. These added decrees and regulations were always determined by local provincial conditions. The Romans were no sticklers for consistency and uniformity in provincial administration. Adaptability and expediency were the main traits of the lawgiving and government-imposing genius of Rome. The payment of taxes and the furnishing of auxiliary troops were the chief exactions imposed upon conquered states. An enlightened public policy prompted the Romans to grant to subject communities the greatest amount of freedom consistent with Roman sovereignty. Two main reasons formed the basis of this policy. One was the economy of time and labor, for the Roman official staff was not large enough to successfully perform those official duties which were usually incumbent upon the local courts. Racial and religious differences alone would have impeded and prevented a successful administration of local government by Roman diplomats and officers. Another reason for Roman noninterference in local provincial affairs was that loyalty was created and peace promoted among the provincials by the enjoyment of their own laws and religions. To such an extent was this policy carried by the Romans that it is asserted by the best historians that there was little real difference in practice between the rights exercised by free and those enjoyed by subject states. On this point, Mommsen says: "In regard to the extent of application, the jurisdiction of the native courts and judicatories among subject communities can scarcely have been much more restricted than among the federated communities; while in administration and in civil jurisdiction we find the same principles operative as in legal procedure and criminal laws."[1] The difference between the rights enjoyed by subject and those exercised by free states was that the former were subject to the whims and caprices of Rome, while the latter were protected by a written charter. A second difference was that Roman citizens residing within the boundaries of subject states had their own law and their own judicatories. The general result was that the citizens of subject states were left free to govern themselves subject to the two great obligations of taxation and military service. The Roman authorities, however, could and did interfere in legislation and in administration whenever Roman interests required. Now, in the light of the facts and principles just stated, what was the exact political status of the Jews at the time of Christ? Judea was a subject state. Did the general laws of Roman provincial administration apply to this province? Or were peculiar rights and privileges granted to the strange people who inhabited it? A great German writer answers in the affirmative. Geib says: "Only one province ... namely Judea, at least in the earlier days of the empire, formed an exception to all the arrangements hitherto described. Whereas in the other provinces the whole criminal jurisdiction was in the hands of the governor, and only in the most important cases had the supreme imperial courts to decide--just as in the least important matters the municipal courts did--the principle that applied in Judea was that at least in regard to questions of religious offenses the high priest with the Sanhedrin could pronounce even death sentences, for the carrying out of which, however, the confirmation of the procurator was required." That Roman conquest did not blot out Jewish local self-government; and that the Great Sanhedrin still retained judicial and administrative power, subject to Roman authority in all matters pertaining to the local affairs of the Jews, is thus clearly and pointedly stated by Schürer: "As regards the area over which the jurisdiction of the supreme Sanhedrin extended, it has been already remarked above that its _civil_ authority was restricted, in the time of Christ, to the eleven toparchies of Judea proper. And accordingly, for this reason, it had no judicial authority over Jesus Christ so long as He remained in Galilee. It was only as soon as He entered Judea that He came directly under its jurisdiction. In a certain sense, no doubt, the Sanhedrin exercised such jurisdiction over _every_ Jewish community in the world, and in that sense over Galilee as well. Its orders were regarded as binding throughout the entire domain of orthodox Judaism. It had power, for example, to issue warrants to the congregations (synagogues) in Damascus for the apprehension of the Christians in that quarter (Acts ix. 2; xxii. 5; xxvi. 12). At the same time, however, the extent to which the Jewish communities were willing to yield obedience to the orders of the Sanhedrin always depended on how far they were favorably disposed toward it. It was only within the limits of Judea proper that it exercised any direct authority. There could not possibly be a more erroneous way of defining the extent of its jurisdiction as regards the kind of causes with which it was competent to deal than to say that it was the _spiritual or theological_ tribunal in contradistinction to the civil judicatories of the Romans. On the contrary, it would be more correct to say that it formed, in contrast to the foreign authority of Rome, that _supreme native_ court which here, as almost everywhere else, the Romans had allowed to continue as before, only imposing certain restrictions with regard to competency. To this tribunal then belonged all those judicial matters and all those measures of an administrative character which either could not be competently dealt with by the inferior or local courts or which the Roman procurator had not specially reserved for himself."[2] The closing words of the last quotation suggest an important fact which furnishes the answer to the question asked at the beginning of this chapter, Why were there two trials of Jesus? Schürer declares that the Sanhedrin retained judicial and administrative power in all local matters which the "procurator had not specially reserved for himself." Now, it should be borne in mind that there is not now in existence and that there probably never existed any law, treaty or decree declaring what judicial acts the Sanhedrin was competent to perform and what acts were reserved to the authority of the Roman governor. It is probable that in all ordinary crimes the Jews were allowed a free hand and final decision by the Romans. No interference took place unless Roman interests were involved or Roman sovereignty threatened. But one fact is well established by the great weight of authority: that the question of sovereignty was raised whenever the question of life and death arose; and that Rome reserved to herself, in such a case, the prerogative of final judicial determination. Even this contention, however, has been opposed by both ancient and modern writers of repute; and, for this reason, it has been thought necessary to cite authorities and offer arguments in favor of the proposition that the right of life or death, _jus vitæ aut necis_, had passed from Jewish into Roman hands at the time of Christ. Both sacred and profane history support the affirmative of this proposition. Regarding this matter, Schürer says: "There is a special interest attaching to the question as to how far the jurisdiction of the Sanhedrin was limited by the authority of the Roman procurator. We accordingly proceed to observe that, inasmuch as the Roman system of provincial government was not strictly carried out in the case of Judea, as the simple fact of its being administered by means of a procurator plainly shows, the Sanhedrin was still left in the enjoyment of a comparatively high degree of independence. Not only did it exercise civil jurisdiction, and that according to Jewish law (which was only a matter of course, as otherwise a Jewish court of justice would have been simply inconceivable), but it also enjoyed a considerable amount of criminal jurisdiction as well. It had an independent authority in regard to political affairs, and consequently possessed the right of ordering arrests to be made by its own officers (Matt. xxvi. 47; Mark xiv. 43; Acts iv. 3; v. 17, 18). It had also the power of finally disposing, on its own authority, of such cases as did not involve sentence of death (Acts iv. 5-23; v. 21-40). It was only in cases in which such sentence of death was pronounced that the judgment required to be ratified by the authority of the procurator."[3] The Jews contend, and, indeed, the Talmud states that "forty years before the destruction of the temple the judgment of capital cases was taken away from Israel." Again, we learn from Josephus that the Jews had lost the power to inflict capital punishment from the day of the deposition of Archelaus, A.D. 6, when Judea became a Roman province and was placed under the control of Roman procurators. The great Jewish historian says: "And now Archelaus's part of Judea was reduced into a province, and Coponius, one of the equestrian order among the Romans, was sent as procurator, having the power of life and death put into his hands by Cæsar."[4] Again, we are informed that Annas was deposed from the high priesthood by the procurator Valerius Gratus, A.D. 14, for imposing and executing capital sentences. One of his sons, we learn from Josephus, was also deposed by King Agrippa for condemning James, the brother of Jesus, and several others, to death by stoning. At the same time, Agrippa reminded the high priest that the Sanhedrin could not lawfully assemble without the consent of the procurator.[5] That the Jews had lost and that the Roman procurators possessed the power over life and death is also clearly indicated by the New Testament account of the trial of Jesus. One passage explicitly states that Pilate claimed the right to impose and carry out capital sentences. Addressing Jesus, Pilate said: "Knowest thou not that I have power to crucify thee and have power to release thee?"[6] In another passage, the Jews admitted that the power of life and death had passed away from them. Answering a question of Pilate, at the time of the trial, they answered: "It is not lawful for us to put any man to death."[7] If we keep in mind the fact stated by Geib that "the principle that applied in Judea was that at least in regard to questions of religious offense the high priest with the Sanhedrin could pronounce even death sentences, for the carrying out of which, however, the confirmation of the procurator was required," we are then in a position to answer finally and definitely the question, Why were there two trials of Jesus? In the light of all the authorities cited and discussed in this chapter, we feel justified in asserting that the Sanhedrin was competent to take the initiative in the arrest and trial of Jesus on the charge of blasphemy, this being a religious offense of the most awful gravity; that this court was competent not only to try but to pass sentence of death upon the Christ; but that its proceedings had to be retried or at least reviewed before the sentence could be executed. Thus two trials were necessary. The Hebrew trial was necessary, because a religious offense was involved with which Rome refused to meddle, and of which she refused to take cognizance in the first instance. The Roman trial was necessary, because, instead of an acquittal which would have rendered Roman interference unnecessary, a conviction involving the death sentence had to be reviewed in the name of Roman sovereignty. Having decided that there were two trials, we are now ready to consider the questions: Were the two trials separate and independent? If not, was the second trial a mere review of the first, or was the first a mere preliminary to the second? No more difficult questions are suggested by the trial of Jesus. It is, in fact, impossible to answer them with certainty and satisfaction. A possible solution is to be found in the nature of the charge preferred against Jesus. It is reasonable to suppose that in the conflict of jurisdiction between Jewish and Roman authority the character of the crime would be a determining factor. In the case of ordinary offenses it is probable that neither Jews nor Romans were particular about the question of jurisdiction. It is more than probable that the Roman governor would assert his right to try the case _de novo_, where the offense charged either directly or remotely involved the safety and sovereignty of the Roman state. It is entirely reasonable to suppose that the Jews would insist on a final determination by themselves of the merits of all offenses of a religious nature; and that they would insist that the Roman governor should limit his action to a mere countersign of their decree. It is believed that ordinarily these principles would apply. But the trial of Jesus presents a peculiar feature which makes the case entirely exceptional. And this peculiarity, it is felt, contains a correct answer to the questions asked above. Jesus was tried before the Sanhedrin on the charge of blasphemy. This was a religious offense of the most serious nature. But when the Christ was led before Pilate, this charge was abandoned and that of high treason against Rome was substituted. Now, it is certain that a Roman governor would not have allowed a Jewish tribunal to try an offense involving high treason against Cæsar. This was a matter exclusively under his control. It is thus certain that Pilate did not merely review a sentence which had been passed by the Sanhedrin after a regular trial, but that he tried _ab initio_ a charge that had not been presented before the Jewish tribunal at the night session in the palace of Caiaphas. It will thus be seen that there were two trials of Jesus; that these trials were separate and independent as far as the charges, judges, and jurisdictions were concerned; and that the only common elements were the persons of the accusers and the accused. CHAPTER III POWERS AND DUTIES OF PILATE What were the powers and duties of Pilate as procurator of Judea? What forms of criminal procedure, if any, were employed by him in conducting the Roman trial of Jesus? This chapter will be devoted to answering these questions. The New Testament Gospels denominate Pilate the "governor" of Judea. A more exact designation is contained in the Latin phrase, _procurator Cæsaris_; the procurator of Cæsar. By this is meant that Pilate was the deputy, attorney, or personal representative of Tiberius Cæsar in the province of Judea. The powers and duties of his office were by no means limited to the financial functions of a Roman quæstor, a _procurator fiscalis_. "He was a procurator _cum potestate_; a governor with civil, criminal, and military jurisdiction; subordinated no doubt in rank to the adjacent governor of Syria, but directly responsible to his great master at Rome." A clear conception of the official character of Pilate is impossible unless we first thoroughly understand the official character of the man whose political substitute he was. A thorough understanding of the official character of Tiberius Cæsar is impossible unless we first fully comprehend the political changes wrought by the civil wars of Rome in which Julius Cæsar defeated Cneius Pompey at the battle of Pharsalia and made himself dictator and undisputed master of the Roman world. With the ascendency of Cæsar the ancient republic became extinct. But liberty was still cherished in the hearts of Romans, and the title of king was detestable. The hardy virtues and democratic simplicity of the early republic were still remembered; and patriots like Cicero had dreamed of the restoration of the ancient order of things. But Roman conquest was complete, Roman manners were corrupt, and Roman patriotism was paralyzed. The hand of a dictator guided by a single intelligence was the natural result of the progressive degradation of the Roman state. The logical and inevitable outcome of the death of Cæsar and the dissolution of the Triumvirate was the régime of Augustus, a monarchy veiled under republican forms. Recognizing Roman horror of absolutism, Roman love of liberty, and Roman detestation of kingly power, Augustus, while in fact an emperor, claimed to be only a plain Roman citizen intrusted with general powers of government. He affected to despise public honors, disclaimed every idea of personal superiority, and exhibited extreme simplicity of manners in public and private life. This was the strategy of a successful politician who sought to conceal offensive reality under the cloak of a pleasant deception. Great Cæsar fallen at the foot of Pompey's statue was a solemn reminder to Augustus that the dagger of the assassin was still ready to defend the memory of freedom, after liberty was, in reality, dead. And the refusal by the greatest of the Romans, at the feast of the Lupercal, to accept a kingly crown when it was thrice offered him by Antony, was a model of discreet behavior and political caution for the first and most illustrious of the emperors. In short, Augustus dared not destroy the laws or assault the constitution of the state. But he accomplished his object, nevertheless. "He gathered into his own hands the whole honors and privileges, which the state had for centuries distributed among its great magistrates and representatives. He became perpetual Princeps Senatus, or leader of the legislative house. He became perpetual Pontifex Maximus, or chief of the national religion. He became perpetual Tribune, or guardian of the people, with his person thereby made sacred and inviolable. He became perpetual Consul, or supreme magistrate over the whole Roman world, with the control of its revenues, the disposal of its armies, and the execution of its laws. And lastly he became perpetual Imperator, or military chief, to whom every legionary throughout the world took the _sacramentum_, and whose sword swept the globe from Gibraltar to the Indus and the Baltic. And yet in all he was a simple citizen--a mere magistrate of the Republic. Only in this one man was now visibly accumulated and concentrated all that for centuries had broadened and expanded under the magnificent abstraction of Rome." The boundless authority of Rome was thus centered in the hands of a single person. Consuls, tribunes, prætors, proconsuls, and procurators were merely the agents and representatives of this person. Tiberius Cæsar, the political master of Pontius Pilate, was the successor of Augustus and the first inheritor of his constitution. Under this constitution, Augustus had divided the provinces into two classes. The centrally located and peacefully disposed were governed by proconsuls appointed by the senate. The more distant and turbulent were subjected by Augustus to his personal control, and were governed by procurators who acted as his deputies or personal representatives. Judea came in his second class, and the real governor of his province was the emperor himself. Tiberius Cæsar was thus the real procurator of Judea at the time of the crucifixion and Pilate was his political substitute who did his bidding and obeyed his will. Whatever Tiberius might have done, Pilate might have done. We are thus enabled to judge the extent of Pilate's powers; powers clothed with _imperium_ and revocable only by the great procurator at Rome. In the government of the purely subject states of a province, the procurator exercised the unlimited jurisdiction of the military _imperium_. No law abridged the single and sovereign exercise of his will. Custom, however, having in fact the force of law, prescribed that he should summon to his aid a council of advisers. This advisory body was composed of two elements: (1) Roman citizens resident in this particular locality where the governor was holding court; and (2) members of his personal staff known as the Prætorian Cohort. The governor, in his conduct of judicial proceedings, might solicit the opinions of the members of his council. He might require them to vote upon the question at issue; and might, if he pleased, abide by the decision of the majority. But no rule of law required him to do it; it was merely a concession and a courtesy; it was not a legal duty. Again, when it is said that the procurator exercised the "unlimited jurisdiction of the military _imperium_," we must interpret this, paradoxical though it may seem, in a restricted sense; that is, we must recognize the existence of exceptions to the rule. It is unreasonable to suppose that Rome, the mother of laws, ever contemplated the rule of despotism and caprice in the administration of justice in any part of the empire. It is true that the effect of the _imperium_, "as applied to provincial governorship, was to make each _imperator_ a king in his own domain"; but kings themselves have nearly always been subject to restrictions; and the authorities are agreed that the _imperium_ of the Roman procurator of the time of Christ was hemmed in by many limitations. A few of these may be named. In the first place, the rights guaranteed to subject states within the provincial area by the law of the province (_lex provinciæ_) were the first limitations upon his power. Again, it is a well-known fact that Roman citizens could appeal from the decision of the governor, in certain cases, to the emperor at Rome. Paul exercised this right, because he was a Roman citizen.[8] Jesus could not appeal from the judgment of Pilate, because He was not a Roman citizen. Again, fear of an aroused and indignant public sentiment which might result in his removal by the emperor, exercised a salutary restraint upon the conduct, if it did not abridge the powers of the governor. These various considerations bring us now to the second question asked in the beginning of this chapter: What forms of criminal procedure, if any, were employed by Pilate in conducting the Roman trial of Jesus? It is historically true that Pilate exercised, as procurator of Judea, the unlimited jurisdiction of the military _imperium_; and that this _imperium_ made him virtually an "_imperator_, a king in his own domain." It is also historically true that the inhabitants of the purely subject states of a province, who were not themselves Roman citizens, when accused of crime, stood before a Roman governor with no protection except the plea of justice against the summary exercise of absolute power. In other words, in the employment of the unlimited jurisdiction of the military _imperium_, a Roman governor, in the exercise of his discretion, might, in the case of non-Roman citizens of a subject state, throw all rules and forms of law to the wind, and decide the matter arbitrarily and despotically. It may be that Pilate did this in this case. But the best writers are agreed that this was not the policy of the Roman governors in the administration of justice in the provinces at the time of Christ. The lawgiving genius of Rome had then reached maturity and approximate perfection in the organization of its criminal tribunals. It is not probable, as before suggested, that despotism and caprice would be systematically tolerated anywhere in the Roman world. If the emperors at Rome were forced, out of regard for public sentiment, to respect the constitution and the laws, it is reasonable to infer that their personal representatives in the provinces were under the same restraint. We feel justified then in asserting that Pilate, in the trial of Jesus, should have applied certain laws and been governed by certain definite rules of criminal procedure. What were these rules? A few preliminary considerations will greatly aid the reader in arriving at an answer to this question. It should be understood: (1) That Pilate was empowered to apply either Roman law or the local law in the trial of any case where the crime was an offense against both the province and the empire, as in the crime of murder; but that in the case of treason with which Jesus was charged he would apply the law of Rome under forms of Roman procedure. It has been denied that Pilate had a right to apply Jewish law in the government of his province; but this denial is contrary to authority. Innes says: "The Roman governor sanctioned, or even himself administered, the old law of the region."[9] Schürer says: "It may be assumed that the administration of the civil law was wholly in the hands of the Sanhedrin and native or local magistrates: Jewish courts decided according to Jewish law. But even in the criminal law this was almost invariably the case, only with this exception, that death sentences required to be confirmed by the Roman procurator. In such cases, the procurator decided, if he pleased, according to Jewish law."[10] Greenidge says: "Even the first clause of the Sicilian _lex_, if it contained no reference to jurisdiction by the local magistrate, left the interpretation of the _native law_ wholly to Roman _proprætors_."[11] It is thus clearly evident that Roman procurators might apply either Roman or local laws in ordinary cases. (2) That Roman governors were empowered to apply the adjective law of Rome to the substantive law of the province. In support of this contention, Greenidge says: "The edict of the _proprætor_ or pro-consul, ... clearly could not express the native law of each particular state under its jurisdiction; but its generality and its expansiveness admitted, as we shall see, of an application of Roman forms to the substantive law of any particular city."[12] (3) That the criminal procedure employed by Pilate in the trial of Jesus should have been the criminal procedure of a capital case tried at Rome, during the reign of Tiberius Cæsar. This fact is very evident from the authorities. The trial of capital cases at Rome furnished models for similar trials in the provinces. In the exercise of the unlimited jurisdiction of the military _imperium_, Roman governors might disregard these models. But, ordinarily, custom compelled them to follow the criminal precedents of the Capital of the empire. The following authorities support this contention. Rosadi says: "It is also certain that in the provinces the same order was observed in criminal cases as was observed in cases tried at Rome."[13] This eminent Italian writer cites, in proof of this statement, Pothier, Pandect. XLVIII. 2, n. 28. Greenidge says: "Yet, in spite of this absence of legal checks, the criminal procedure of the provinces was, in the protection of the citizen as in other respects, closely modelled on that of Rome."[14] To the same effect, but more clearly and pointedly expressed, is Geib, who says: "It is nevertheless true that the knowledge which we have, imperfect though it may be, leaves no doubt that the courts of the Italian municipalities and provinces had, in all essential elements, the permanent tribunals (_quæstiones perpetuæ_) as models; so that, in fact, a description of the proceedings in the permanent tribunals is, at the same time, to be regarded as a description of the proceedings in the provincial courts."[15] These permanent tribunals (_quæstiones perpetuæ_) were courts of criminal jurisdiction established at Rome, and were in existence at the time of the crucifixion. Proceedings in these courts in capital cases, were models of criminal procedure in the provinces at the time of Christ. It logically follows then that if we can ascertain the successive steps in the trial of a capital case at Rome before one of the permanent tribunals, we have accurate information of the exact form of criminal procedure, not that Pilate did employ, but which he should have employed in the trial of Jesus. Fortunately for the purposes of this treatise, every step which Roman law required in the trial of capital cases at Rome is as well known as the provisions of any modern criminal code. From the celebrated Roman trials in which Cicero appeared as an advocate, may be gleaned with unerring accuracy the fullest information touching all the details of capital trials at Rome at the time of Cicero. It should be observed, at this point, that the period of Roman jurisprudence just referred to was in the closing years of the republic; and that certain changes in the organization of the tribunals as well as in the forms of procedure were effected by the legislation of Augustus. But we have it upon the authority of Rosadi that these changes were not radical in the case of the criminal courts and that the rules and regulations that governed procedure in them during the republic remained substantially unchanged under the empire. The same writer tells us that the permanent tribunals for the trial of capital cases did not go out of existence until the third century of the Christian era.[16] The following chapter will be devoted, in the main, to a description of the mode of trial of capital cases at Rome before the permanent tribunals at the time of Christ. CHAPTER IV MODE OF TRIAL IN ROMAN CAPITAL CASES The reader should keep clearly and constantly in mind the purpose of this chapter: to describe the mode of trial in capital cases at Rome during the reign of Tiberius Cæsar; and thus to furnish a model of criminal procedure which Pilate should have imitated in the trial of Jesus at Jerusalem. In the last chapter, we saw that the proceedings of the permanent tribunals (_quæstiones perpetuæ_) at Rome furnished models for the trial of criminal cases in the provinces. It is now only necessary to determine what the procedure of the permanent tribunals at the time of Christ was, in order to understand what Pilate should have done in the trial of Jesus. But the character of the _quæstiones perpetuæ_, as well as the rules and regulations that governed their proceedings, cannot well be understood without reference to the criminal tribunals and modes of trial in criminal cases that preceded them. Roman history discloses two distinct periods of criminal procedure before the organization of the permanent tribunals about the beginning of the last century of the Republic: (1) The period of the kings and (2) the period of the early republic. Each of these will be here briefly considered. _The Regal Period._--The earliest glimpses of Roman political life reveal the existence of a sacred and military monarchy in which the king is generalissimo of the army, chief pontiff of the national religion, and supreme judge in civil and criminal matters over the lives and property of the citizens. These various powers and attributes are wrapped up in the _imperium_. By virtue of the _imperium_, the king issued commands to the army and also exercised the highest judicial functions over the lives and fortunes of his fellow-citizens. The kings were thus military commanders and judges in one person, as the consuls were after them. The monarch might sit alone and judge cases and impose sentences; but the trial was usually a personal investigation undertaken by him with the advice and aid of a chosen body of judges from the senate or the pontifical college. According to Dionysius, Romulus ordered that all crimes of a serious nature should be tried by the king, but that all lighter offenses should be judged by the senate.[17] Little confidence can be reposed in this statement, since the age and deeds of Romulus are exceedingly legendary and mythical. But it is historically true that in the regal period of Rome the kings were the supreme judges in all civil and criminal matters. _The Early Republican Period._--The abolition of the monarchy and the establishment of the republic witnessed the distribution of the powers of government formerly exercised by the king among a number of magistrates and public officers. Consuls, tribunes, prætors, ædiles, both curule and plebeian, exercised, under the republic, judicial functions in criminal matters. The consuls were supreme criminal judges at the beginning of the republic, and were clothed with unlimited power in matters of life and death. This is shown by the condemnation and execution of the sons of Brutus and their fellow-conspirators.[18] Associated with the consuls were, at first, two annually appointed quæstors whom they nominated. The functions of the quæstors were as unlimited as those of their superiors, the consuls; but their jurisdiction was confined chiefly to criminal matters and finance. The tribunes, sacred and inviolable in their persons as representatives of the _plebs_ and as their protectors against patrician oppression, exercised at first merely a negative control over the regular magistracies of the community. But, finally, they became the chief public prosecutors of political criminals. The prætors, whose chief jurisdiction was in civil matters, were potentially as fully criminal judges as the consuls, and there may have been a time when a portion of criminal jurisdiction was actually in their hands. In the later republic, they presided over the _quæstiones perpetuæ_, permanent criminal tribunals. The ædiles are found in Roman history exercising functions of criminal jurisdiction, although their general powers were confined to the special duties of caring for the games, the market, and the archives. But the criminal jurisdiction of the magistrates who replaced the king at the downfall of the monarchy was abridged and almost destroyed by the famous _lex Valeria_ (_de provocatione_). This law was proposed 509 B.C. by Publius Valerius, one of the first consuls of Rome, and provided that no magistrate should have power to execute a sentence of death against a Roman citizen who had appealed to the judgment of the people in their public assembly. This _lex_ was the _magna charta_ of the Romans and was justly regarded by them as the great palladium of their civil liberty. And it was this law that inaugurated the popular jurisdiction of the _comitia_. The result was that for more than three hundred years the final determination of the question of life or death was in the hands of the people themselves. From the passage of the Valerian law the function of the magistrates was limited to the duty of convincing the people of the guilt of an alleged criminal against whom they themselves had already pronounced a preliminary sentence. The magistrates were, therefore, not so much judges as prosecutors; the people were the final judges in the case. _Mode of Trial in the Comitia, or Public Assembly._--On a certain day, the prosecuting magistrate, who had himself pronounced the preliminary sentence against an accused person who had appealed to the people in their public assembly, mounted the _rostra_, and called the people together by the voice of a herald. He then made a proclamation that on a certain day he would bring an accusation against a certain person upon a given charge. At the same time, he called upon this person to come forward and hear the charges against him. The defendant then presented himself, listened to the accusation, and immediately furnished bond for his appearance, or in default of bail, was thrown into prison. Upon the day announced at the opening of the trial, the prosecuting magistrate again mounted the _rostra_, and summoned the accused by a herald, if he was at large, or had him brought forth if he was in prison. The prosecutor then produced evidence, oral and documentary, against the prisoner. The indictment had to be in writing, and was published on three market days in the Forum. The prosecution came to an end on the third day, and the accused then began his defense by mounting the _rostra_ with his patron and presenting evidence in his own behalf. The prosecutor then announced that on a certain day he would ask the people to render judgment by their votes. In the early years of the republic, the people voted by shouting their approval or disapproval of the charges made; but later a tablet bearing one of the two letters V. (_uti rogas_) or A. (_absolvo_) was used as a ballot. The effect of popular jurisdiction in criminal processes at Rome was in the nature of a two-edged sword that cut both ways. It was beneficial in the limitations it imposed upon the conduct of single magistrates who were too often capricious and despotic. But this benefit was purchased at the price of a kind of popular despotism not less dangerous in its way. It has always been characteristic of popular assemblies that their decisions have been more the outcome of passion and prejudice than the result of calm wisdom and absolute justice. The trouble at Rome was that the people were both legislators and judges in their public assemblies; and it nearly always happened that the lawmakers rose above and trampled upon the very laws which they themselves had made. The natural offspring of this state of things is either anarchy or despotism; and it was only the marvelous vitality of the Roman Commonwealth that enabled it to survive. The reports of the great criminal trials before the _comitia_ reveal the inherent weakness of a system of popular jurisdiction in criminal matters. Personal and political considerations foreign to the merits of the case were allowed to take the place of competent evidence; and issues of right and expediency were too frequently mixed up. The accused, at times, trusted not so much in the righteousness of his cause as in the feelings of compassion and prejudice that moved the people as popular judges. And to excite these feelings the most ludicrous and undignified steps were sometimes taken. The defendant nearly always appeared at the trial in mourning garb, frequently let his hair and beard grow long, and often exhibited the scars and wounds received in battle whilst fighting for his country. He sometimes offered prayers to the immortal gods and wept bitterly; at other times he caused his children and other relatives to appear at the trial, wailing, and tearing their clothes. Not content with presenting all the pathetic features of his own life, he left nothing undone to expose his opponents to hatred and contempt. It thus happened that many of the great criminal causes of Rome were mere farcical proceedings. A few instances may be cited. Horatius, though tried in the time of the third Roman king, was pardoned by the people for the murder of his sister because of his heroic deed in single combat with the three Curiatii, and because his father had lost three children in the service of the state. In the year 98, Manlius Aquillius, the pacificator of Sicily, was tried for embezzlement. Marcus Antonius, his advocate, ended his argument for the defense by tearing the tunic of Aquillius to show the breast of the veteran warrior covered with scars. The people were moved to tears and Aquillius was acquitted, although the evidence was very clear against him. In the trial of M. Manlius, 384 B.C., new tactics were employed. The accused refused to appear in mourning. There was no weeping in his behalf. On the other hand, Manlius relied upon his services to the state for acquittal. He brought forward four hundred citizens who by his generosity he had saved from bondage for debt; he exhibited the spoils taken from thirty slain enemies, also military decorations received for bravery in battle--among them two mural and eight civic crowns; he then produced many citizens rescued by him from the hands of the enemy; he then bared his breast and exhibited the scars received by him in war; and, lastly, turning toward the Capitol, he implored Jupiter to protect him, and to infuse, at this moment, into the Roman people, his judges, the same spirit of courage and patriotism that had given him strength to save the city of Rome and his whole country from the hands of the Gauls. He begged the people to keep their eyes fixed on the Capitol while they were pronouncing sentence against him to whom they owed life and liberty. It is said that his prosecutors despaired of convicting him amidst such surroundings, and adjourned the trial to another place, where the Capitol could not be seen; and that thereupon the conviction of Manlius was secured and his condemnation pronounced. In the year 185 B.C., the tribune M. Nævius, at the instigation of Cato, accused Scipio Africanus before the tribes of having been bribed to secure a dishonorable peace. It was clearly evident that a charge of this kind could not well be sustained by evidence; but it was believed that a conviction could be secured by an appeal to the passion and prejudice of the multitude. But this advantage operated as greatly in favor of Scipio as it did in favor of his accusers. And he did not fail to use the advantage to the fullest extent. In seeming imitation of M. Manlius, two hundred years before, he appealed for acquittal to the people on account of his public services. He refused to appear in mourning, offered no evidence in his own behalf, nor did he exhibit the usual humility of an accused Roman before his countrymen. With proud disdain, he spurned the unworthy imputation of bribery, and pointed the people to the magnificent achievements of his brilliant public career. He reminded them that the day of the trial was itself the anniversary of his victory over the greatest enemy that Rome ever had, at Zama. It was degrading, he exclaimed, both to him and to the Roman nation, to bring such a charge on this day against the man to whom it was due that the Commonwealth of Rome still existed. He refused to lower himself, he said, by listening to the insolent charges of a vulgar brawler who had never done anything for the state. He declared that instead he would repair at once to the temple of Jupiter and render thanks for his victory over Hannibal to the protecting gods of his country. With these words, he left the Forum and went to the Capitol and from there to his house, accompanied by the great majority of the people, while the accusing tribune and his official staff were left alone in the market place. The inevitable result of these cases of miscarriage of justice, in which patriotic bravado and rhetorical claptrap took the place of legal rules, was a desire and demand for the reform of criminal procedure. Besides, it had ever been found troublesome and inconvenient to summon the whole body of the Roman people to try ordinary offenses. It was only in cases of great gravity that the ponderous machinery of the _comitia centuriata_ could be set in motion. This difficulty was increased with the growth of the republic, in which crimes also grew in number and magnitude. The necessity for the reform of the criminal law resulted in the institution of permanent tribunals (_quæstiones perpetuæ_). A series of legal enactments accomplished this result. The earliest law that created a permanent _quæstio_ was the _lex Calpurnia_ of 149 B.C. And it was the proceedings in these courts, which we shall now describe, that should have guided Pilate in the trial of Jesus. _Mode of Trial in the Permanent Tribunals._--We shall attempt to trace in the remaining pages of this chapter the successive steps in the trial of criminal cases before the permanent tribunals at Rome. _First Stage_ (_postulatio_).--A Roman criminal trial before a _quæstio perpetua_ commenced with an application to the presiding magistrate, the prætor or the _iudex quæstionis_, for permission to bring a criminal charge against a certain person. The technical Latin expression for this request to prosecute is _postulatio_. It should be here noted that State's attorneys or public prosecutors, in a modern sense, were not known to the Romans at this time. Private citizens took upon themselves public prosecutions in behalf of the state. They were encouraged to do this from motives of personal profit as well as patriotic interest in the welfare of the community. As young men in modern times, just admitted to the bar, often accept criminal cases by assignment from the court in order to make a beginning in their professional careers, so young Roman nobles in ancient times sought to make reputations for themselves by accusing and prosecuting public delinquents. And not only professional reputation, but financial compensation as well could be gained in this way. The Roman laws of the time of Cicero provided that a successful prosecutor should receive one-fourth part of the property confiscated or the fine imposed. A Macedonian inscription offered a reward of 200 denarii to the prosecutor who should bring to justice the desecrators of a tomb.[19] _Second Stage_ (_divinatio_).--It often happened that more than one accuser desired to prosecute a single offense; but more than one prosecutor was not permitted by Roman law unless there was more than one crime charged. Then, in case of a concurrence of would-be accusers, a preliminary trial was had to determine which one of these was best fitted to bring the accusation. This initial hearing was known in Roman law as the _divinatio_. It was indeed more than a mere hearing; it was a regular trial in which the question of the fitness of the different candidates for the position of _delator_ was argued before the president and the jury. This jury was in many cases distinct from the one that finally tried the case on the merits. The purpose of the whole proceeding known as the _divinatio_ was to secure a prosecutor who was at once both able and sincere; and both these qualities were generally very strenuously urged by all those who desired to assume the rôle of accuser. Indeed all personal qualifications involving the mental and moral attributes of the would-be prosecutors were pointedly urged. At the hearing, the different candidates frequently became animated and even bitter opponents of each other. Crimination and recrimination then followed as a natural consequence. An applicant might show that he was thoroughly familiar with the affairs of a province, as a special fitness in the prosecution of a public official for extortion in that province. An opponent, on the other hand, might show that said applicant had been associated with said official in the government of the province and had been, and was now, on the friendliest terms with him. After the meritorious qualifications of all the claimants had been presented, the president and jury rendered their decision. The details of the evidence affecting the merits of the charge were not considered at this preliminary trial. Only such facts were considered as affected the personal qualifications of the different candidates for the place of accuser. When these qualifications were about equally balanced in point of merit between two applicants, the abler speaker was generally chosen. _Third Stage_ (_nominis delatio_).--It frequently happened that the _postulatio_, the request to prosecute, was not followed by the _divinatio_, the preliminary hearing on the merits of different applicants, because there was only one would-be accuser; and his qualifications were beyond dispute. In such a case, when a request to bring a criminal charge against a certain person had been presented by a citizen to the prætor, there followed, after a certain interval of time, a private hearing before the president of the court for the purpose of gaining fuller and more definite information concerning the charge. This private proceeding was styled the _nominis_ or _criminis delatio_, and took place before the president alone. Its main object was to secure a specification of the personality of the accused as well as of the charges brought against him. At this stage of the trial the presence of the accused person was necessary, unless he was absent under valid excuse. The _lex Memmia_, passed in the year 114 B.C., permitted a delinquent to plead that he was absent from Rome on public business, as an excuse for not appearing at the _nominis delatio_. In the year 58 B.C., the tribune L. Antistius impeached Julius Cæsar. But the colleagues of Antistius excused Cæsar from personal attendance because he was absent in the service of the state in Gaul. But, if the accused appeared at the _nominis delatio_, the prosecutor interrogated him at length concerning the facts of the crime. The purpose of this interrogation (_interrogatio_) was to satisfy the president that there was a prima facie case to carry before the regular tribunal in open trial. The proceedings of the _nominis delatio_ were thus in the nature of a modern Grand Jury investigation, instituted to determine if a serious prosecution should be had. _Fourth Stage_ (_inscriptio_).--If the interrogation convinced the president that the prosecutor had a prima facie case to take before the permanent tribunal, he framed a form of indictment called the _inscriptio_. This indictment was signed by the chief prosecutor and also by a number of witnesses against the accused called _subscriptores_. The charge was now definitely fixed; and, from this moment, it was the only offense that could be prosecuted at the trial. The drawing up of this charge by the president was similar to the framing of an indictment by a modern Grand Jury. _Fifth Stage_ (_nominis receptio_).--After the indictment or inscription had been framed, it was formally received by the president. This act was styled the _nominis receptio_ and corresponds, in a general way, with the presentment of an indictment by a modern Grand Jury. When the _nominis receptio_ was complete, the case was said to be _in judicio_, and the accused was said to be _in reatu_. The president then fixed a day certain for the appearance of the accused and the beginning of the trial. The time fixed was usually ten days from the _nominis receptio_. However, a longer time was allowed if evidence had to be secured from beyond the sea. Thirty days were allowed the accusers in the prosecution of Scaurus. Cicero was given one hundred and ten days to secure evidence against Verres; but he actually employed only sixty. The time granted the prosecutor was also required by the law to be utilized by the defendant in preparing his case. The preliminary steps in the prosecution were now complete, and the accused awaited the day of trial. In the meantime, he was allowed to go at large, even when charged with a grave offense like murder. Imprisonment to prevent escape had almost ceased at the time of which we write. If the evidence against the accused was weak, it was felt that he would certainly appear at the trial. If the evidence against him was very strong, it was thought that he would seek to escape a sentence of death in voluntary exile, a step which Romans always encouraged, as they were averse, at all times, to putting a Roman citizen to death. _Sixth Stage_ (_citatio_).--At the expiration of the time designated by the president for the beginning of the trial, the proceedings before the judges began. All the necessary parties, including the judges or jurors, were summoned by a herald to appear. This procedure was termed the _citatio_. Strange to say, if the accused failed to appear the case could proceed without him. The reason for the requirement of his presence at the _nominis delatio_, but not at the trial is not clear; especially when viewed in the light of a modern trial in which the defendant must be present at every important step in the proceedings. Under Roman procedure, the presence of the defendant was not necessary, whether he was in voluntary exile, or was obstinately absent. In 52 B.C., Milo was condemned in his absence; and we read in Plutarch that the assassins of Cæsar were tried in their absence, 43 B.C. Excusable absence necessitated an adjournment of the case. The chief grounds for an adjournment were: (1) Absence from the city in the public service; (2) that the accused was compelled to appear in another court on the same day; (3) illness. The absence of the accused did not prevent the prosecution of the case, but the nonappearance of the prosecutor on the day fixed for the beginning of the trial usually terminated the proceedings at once. The fact that the case had to be dismissed if the accuser failed to appear only serves to illustrate how dependent the state was on the sincerity of the citizen who undertook the prosecution. The obligations of the prosecutor honestly and vigorously to follow up a suit which he had set in motion were felt to be so serious a matter by the Romans that special laws were passed to hold him in the line of duty. The _lex Remmia_ provided that if any citizen knowingly accused another citizen falsely of a crime, the accuser should be prosecuted for calumny (_calumnia_). It further provided that, in case of conviction, the letter K should be branded on the forehead of the condemned. Such laws were found necessary to protect the good name of Roman citizens against bad men who desired to use the legal machinery of the state to gratify private malevolence against their enemies. It may thus be seen that the system which permitted public prosecutions on the motion of private citizens was attended by both good and bad results. Cicero regarded such a system as a positive benefit to the state.[20] Its undoubted effect was to place a check upon corruption in public office by subjecting the acts of public officials to the scrutiny and, if need be, to the censure of every man in the nation. On the other hand, accusers in public prosecutions came finally to be identified, in the public mind, with coarse and vulgar informers whose only motive in making public accusations was to create private gain. So thoroughly were they despised that one of the parasites of Plautus scornfully exclaims that he would not exchange his vocation, though low and groveling, with that of the man who makes a legal proceeding "his net wherein to catch another man's goods."[21] _Seventh Stage_ (_impaneling the judges_).--But if the prosecutor appeared in due time, the trial formally began by the impaneling of the judges. This was usually done by the prætor or _iudex quæstionis_ who, at the beginning of the trial, placed the names of the complete panel of jurors, inscribed on white tablets, into an urn, and then drew out a certain number. Both prosecutor and accused had the right to challenge a limited number, as the names were being drawn. The number of challenges allowed varied from time to time. _Eighth Stage_ (_beginning of the trial_).--When the judges had been impaneled, the regular proceedings began. The place of trial was the Forum. The curule chair of the prætor and the benches of the judges, constituting the tribunal, were here placed. On the ground in front of the raised platform upon which the prætor and judges sat, were arranged the benches of the parties, their advocates and witnesses. Like the ancient Hebrew law, Roman law required that criminal cases should be tried only by daylight, that is, between daybreak and one hour before sunset. At the opening of the trial, the prosecutor, backed by the _subscriptores_, and the accused, supported by his patrons and advocates, appeared before the tribunal. In a modern criminal trial the case is opened by the introduction of testimony which is followed by regular speeches of counsel for the people and the defendant. In those jurisdictions where opening addresses are required before the examination of the witnesses, the purpose is to inform the jury of the facts which it is proposed to prove. Argument and characterization are not permitted in these opening speeches. The real speeches in which argument and illustration are permitted come after the evidence has been introduced. The purpose of these closing speeches is to assist the jury in determining matters of fact from conflicting testimony. Under the Roman system of trial in criminal cases, the order was reversed. The regular speeches containing argument, characterization, and illustration, as well as a statement of the facts proposed to be proved, were made in the very beginning. Evidence was then introduced to show that the orators had told the truth in their speeches. It is not practicable in this place to discuss the kinds and relevancy of evidence under Roman criminal procedure. Suffice it to say that slaves were always examined under torture. The close of the evidence was followed by the judgment of the tribunal. _Ninth Stage_ (_voting of the judges_).--The judges voted by ballot, and a majority of votes decided the verdict. The balloting was done with tablets containing the letters A. (_absolvo_), C. (_condemno_) and N. L. (_non liquet_). When the votes had been cast, the tablets were then counted by the president of the tribunal. If the result indicated a condemnation, he pronounced the word _fecisse_; if an acquittal, the phrase, _non fecisse videtur_; if a doubtful verdict (_non liquet_), the words _amplius esse cognoscendum_. The result of a doubtful (_non liquet_) verdict was a retrial of the case at some future time. Such were the main features of the trial of a capital case at Rome at the date of the crucifixion. Such was the model which, according to the best authorities, Pilate was bound to follow in the trial of Jesus. Did he imitate this model? Did he observe these rules and regulations? We shall see. CHAPTER V ROMAN FORMS OF PUNISHMENT According to Gibbon, the laws of the Twelve Tables, like the statutes of Draco, were written in blood. These famous decrees sanctioned the frightful principle of the _lex talionis_; and prescribed for numerous crimes many horrible forms of punishment. The hurling from the Tarpeian Rock was mild in comparison with other modes of execution. The traitor to his country had his hands tied behind his back, his head shrouded in a veil, was then scourged by a lictor, and was afterwards crucified, in the midst of the Forum by being nailed to the _arbor infelix_. A malicious incendiary, on a principle of retaliation, was delivered to the flames. He was burned to death by being wrapped in a garment covered with pitch which was then set on fire.[22] A parricide was cast into the Tiber or the sea, inclosed in a sack, to which a cock, a viper, a dog, and a monkey had been successively added as fit companions in death.[23] But the development of Roman jurisprudence and the growth of Roman civilization witnessed a gradual diminution in the severity of penal sanctions, in the case of free citizens, until voluntary exile was the worst punishment to which a wearer of the toga was compelled to submit. The Porcian and Valerian laws prohibited the magistrates from putting any Roman citizen to death. The principle underlying these laws was the offspring of a proud and patriotic sentiment which exempted the masters of the world from the extreme penalties reserved for barbarians and slaves. Greenidge, interpreting Cicero, very elegantly expresses this sentiment: "It is a _facinus_ to put a Roman citizen in bonds, a _scelus_ to scourge him, _prope parricidium_ to put him to death." The subject of this volume limits the discussion in this chapter to a single Roman punishment: Crucifixion. Around this word gather the most frightful memories and, at the same time, the sweetest and sublimest hopes of the human race. A thorough appreciation of the trial of Jesus, it is felt, renders necessary a comparatively exhaustive treatment of the punishment in which all the horrors and illegalities of the proceedings against Him culminated. _History._--Tradition attributes the origin of crucifixion, the most frightful and inhuman form of punishment ever known, to a woman, Semiramis, Queen of Assyria. We are reminded by this that quartering, drawing at a horse's tail, breaking on the wheel, burning and torture with pincers, were provisions in a codex bearing the name of a woman: Maria Theresa.[24] Crucifixion was practiced by the ancient Egyptians, Carthaginians, Persians, Germans, Assyrians, Greeks, and Romans. The Romans employed this form of punishment on a colossal scale. The Roman general Varus crucified 2,000 Jews in one day at the gates of Jerusalem. The close of the war with Spartacus, the gladiator, witnessed the crucifixion of 10,000 slaves between Capua and Rome. Crucifixion, as a form of punishment, was unknown to the ancient Hebrews. The penalty of death was enforced among them by burning, strangling, decapitation, and stoning. The "hanging" of criminals "on a tree," mentioned in Deut. xxi. 22, was a posthumous indignity offered the body of the criminal after death by stoning, and struck horror to the soul of every pious Israelite who beheld it. Among the Romans also degradation was a part of the infliction, since crucifixion was peculiarly a _supplicium servile_. Only the vilest criminals, among free men, such as were guilty of robbery, piracy, assassination, perjury, sedition, treason, and desertion from the army, met death in this way. The _jus civitatis_ protected Roman citizens against this punishment. _Mode of Crucifixion._--A sentence of death having been pronounced by a Roman magistrate or tribunal, scourging became a preliminary to execution. This was done with the terrible _flagellum_ into which the soldiers frequently stuck nails, pieces of bone, and other hard substances to heighten the pain which was often so intense as to produce death. The victim was generally bound to a column to be scourged. It was claimed by Jerome, Prudentius, Gregory of Tours, and others that they had seen the one to which Jesus was bound before His scourging began. After the flagellation, the prisoner was conducted to the place of execution. This was outside the city, often in some public road, or other conspicuous place like the Campus Martius at Rome. The criminal was compelled to carry his own cross; and when he had arrived at the place of crucifixion, he was compelled to watch the preparations for his torture. Before his eyes and in his presence, the cross was driven into the ground; and, after having been stripped naked, he was lifted upon and nailed to it. It sometimes happened that he was stretched upon it first and then lifted with it from the ground. The former method was the more common, however, as it was desired to strike terror into the victim by the sight of the erection of the cross. The body was fastened to the cross by nails driven into the hands and sometimes into the feet; more frequently, however, the feet were merely bound by cords. The pictures of crosses in works of art are misrepresentations, in that they are too large and too high. The real cross of antiquity was very little longer than the victim, whose head was near the top, and whose feet often hung only twelve or fifteen inches from the ground. Pictorial art is also false because it fails to show the projecting beam from near the center of the cross upon which the criminal sat. That there was such a beam is attested by the almost unanimous voice of antiquity. Crucifixion was conducted, under Roman auspices, by a _carnifex_, or hangman, assisted by a band of soldiers. At Rome, execution was done under the supervision of the _Triumviri Capitales_. The duty of the soldiers was not only to erect the cross and nail the victim to it, but also to watch him until he was dead. This was a necessary precaution to prevent friends and relatives from taking the criminal down and from carrying him away, since he sometimes continued to live upon the cross during several days. If taken down in time, the suffering man might easily be resuscitated and restored to health. Josephus tells us that three victims were ordered to be taken down by Titus at his request, and that one of them recovered. "In the later persecutions of the Christians, the guards remained four or six days by the dead, in order to secure them to the wild beasts and to cut off all possibility of burial and resurrection; and in Lyons the Christians were not once able by offers of much gold to obtain the privilege of showing compassion upon the victims of the pagan popular fury. Sometimes, however, particularly on festival days, e.g., the birthdays of the emperors, the corpse was given up to the friends of the deceased, either for money or without money, although even Augustus could be cruel enough to turn a deaf ear to the entreaties of the condemned for sepulture."[25] Roman records tell us that the soldiers frequently hastened death by breaking the legs of the criminal; at other times, fires were built about the cross beneath him; and, again, wild beasts were turned loose upon him. It was the general custom to allow the body to remain and rot upon the cross, or to be devoured by wild beasts and birds of prey. "Distracted relatives and friends saw the birds of prey attack the very faces of those whom they loved; and piety often took pains to scare away the birds by day and the beasts by night, or to outwit the guards that watched the dead."[26] Sepulture was generally forbidden by law, though there were exceptions to the rule. At the request of Joseph of Arimathea, Pilate consented that Jesus should be taken down and buried.[27] A national exception seems also to have been made in the case of the Jews on account of the requirements of Deut. xxi. 22, 23. _Pathology._--The following pathological phases of death by crucifixion are from a treatise by the celebrated physician, Richter (in John's "Bibl. Arch."), which have been reproduced in Strong and McClintock's "Cyclopedia": "(1) The unnatural position and violent tension of the body, which cause a painful sensation from the least motion. "(2) The nails, being driven through parts of the hands and feet which are full of nerves and tendons (and yet at a distance from the heart) create the most exquisite anguish. "(3) The exposure of so many wounds and lacerations brings on inflammation, which tends to become gangrene, and every movement increases the poignancy of suffering. "(4) In the distended parts of the body, more blood flows through the arteries than can be carried back into the veins: hence too much blood finds its way from the aorta into the head and stomach, and the blood vessels of the head become pressed and swollen. The general obstruction of circulation which ensues causes an intense excitement, exertion, and anxiety more intolerable than death itself. "(5) The inexpressible misery of _gradually increasing_ and lingering anguish. "(6) Burning and raging thirst. "Death by crucifixion (physically considered) is, therefore, to be attributed to the sympathetic fever which is excited by the wounds, and aggravated by exposure to the weather, privation of water, and the painfully constrained position of the body. Traumatic fever corresponds, in intensity and in character, to the local inflammation of the wound, is characterized by heat, swelling, and great pain, the fever is highly inflammatory, and the sufferer complains of heat, throbbing headache, intense thirst, restlessness, and anxiety. As soon as suppuration sets in, the fever somewhat abates, and partially ceases as suppuration diminishes and the stage of cicatrization approaches. But if the wound be prevented from healing and suppuration continues, the fever assumes a hectic character, and will sooner or later exhaust the powers of life. When, however, the inflammation of the wound is so intense as to produce mortification, nervous depression is the immediate consequence; and, if the cause of this excessive inflammation of the wound still continues, as is the case in crucifixion, the sufferer rapidly sinks. He is no longer sensible of pain, but his anxiety and sense of prostration are excessive; hiccough supervenes, his skin is moistened with a cold clammy sweat, and death ensues. It is in this manner that death on the cross must have taken place in an ordinarily healthy constitution." The intense sufferings and prolonged agony of crucifixion can be best illustrated by an account of several cases of this form of punishment taken from history. From the "Chrestomathia Arabica" of Kosegarten, published in 1828, is taken the following story of the execution of a Mameluke. The author of this work gleaned the story from an Arabic manuscript entitled "The Meadow of Flowers and the Fragrant Odour": "It is said that he had killed his master for some cause or other, and he was crucified on the banks of the river Barada under the castle of Damascus, with his face turned toward the East. His hands, arms, and feet were nailed, and he remained so from midday on Friday to the same hour on Sunday, when he died. He was remarkable for his strength and prowess; he had been engaged with his master in sacred war at Askelon, where he slew great numbers of the Franks; and when very young he had killed a lion. Several extraordinary things occurred at his being nailed, as that he gave himself up without resistance to the cross, and without complaint stretched out his hands, which were nailed and after them his feet: he in the meantime looked on, and did not utter a groan, or change his countenance or move his limbs. I have heard this from one who witnessed it, and he thus remained till he died, patient and silent, without wailing, but looking around him to the right and the left upon the people. But he begged for water, and none was given him, and he gazed upon it and longed for one drop of it, and he complained of thirst all the first day, after which he was silent, for God gave him strength." Describing the punishments used in Madagascar, Rev. Mr. Ellis says: "In a few cases of great enormity, a sort of crucifixion has been resorted to; and, in addition to this, burning or roasting at a slow fire, kept at some distance from the sufferer, has completed the horrors of this miserable death.... In the year 1825, a man was condemned to crucifixion, who had murdered a female for the sake of stealing her child. He carried the child for sale to the public market, where the infant was recognized, and the murderer detected. He bore his punishment in the most hardened manner, avenging himself by all the violence he was capable of exercising upon those who dragged him to the place of execution. Not a single groan escaped him during the period he was nailed to the wood, nor while the cross was fixed upright in the earth."[28] More horrible still than punishment by crucifixion was that of impalement and suspension on a hook. The following description of the execution, in 1830, at Salonica, of Chaban, a captain of banditti, is given by Slade: "He was described by those who saw him as a very fine-looking man, about thirty-five. As a preparatory exercise, he was suspended by his arms for twelve hours. The following day a hook was thrust into his side, by which he was suspended to a tree, and there hung enduring the agony of thirst till the third evening, when death closed the scene; but before that about an hour the birds, already considering him their own, had alighted upon his brow to pick his eyes. During this frightful period he uttered no unmanly complaints, only repeated several times, 'Had I known that I was to suffer this infernal death, I would never have done what I have. From the moment I led the klephte's life I had death before my eyes, and was prepared to meet it, but I expected to die as my predecessors, by decapitation.'"[29] _The Cross._--The instrument of crucifixion, called the Cross, was variously formed. Lipsius and Gretser have employed a twofold classification: the _crux simplex_, and the _crux composita_ or _compacta_. A single upright stake was distinguished as a _crux simplex_. The _crux composita_, the compound or actual cross, was subject to the following modifications of form: _Crux immissa_, formed as in the Figure [symbol: Cross]; _crux commissa_ thus formed [symbol: T-cross]; and the _crux decussata_, the cruciform figure, set diagonally after the manner of the Roman letter X. It is generally thought that Jesus was crucified upon the _crux immissa_, the "Latin cross." According to the well-known legend of the "Invention of the Cross," the actual cross on which Jesus was crucified was discovered in the year 326 A.D. by the Empress Helena, the mother of Constantine the Great. As the story goes, while visiting Jerusalem and the scenes of the passion, she was guided to the summit of Calvary by an aged Jew. Here an excavation was made, and, at a considerable depth, three crosses were found; and, with them, but lying aside by itself, was the inscription, in Hebrew, Latin, and Greek, placed above the head of Christ at the time of the crucifixion. To determine which of the three crosses was the one upon which Jesus suffered, it was decided, at the suggestion of Macarius, bishop of Jerusalem, to employ a miracle. The sick were brought and required to touch the three. According to the legend, the one upon which the Savior died immediately imparted miraculous healing. A church was at once built above the excavation and in it was deposited the greater part of the supposed real cross, and the remainder was sent to Byzantium, and from there to Rome, where it was placed in the church of Santa Croce in Gerusalemme, built especially to receive the precious relic. The genuineness of this relic was afterwards attested by a Bull of Pope Alexander III. In connection with the legend of the discovery of the actual cross upon which Christ was crucified, goes a secondary story that the nails used at the crucifixion were also found at the same time and place. Later tradition declared that one of these was thrown by Helena into the Adriatic when swept by a terrific storm, and that this was followed by an instantaneous calm. The popular impression among Christians that the cross is exclusively a Christian religious symbol, seems to be without historical foundation. It is quite certain, indeed, that it was a religious emblem among several ancient races before the beginning of the Christian era. The ancient Egyptians adored the cross with the most holy veneration; and this sacred emblem was carved upon many of their monuments. Several of these monuments may be seen to-day in the British Museum.[30] A cross upon a Calvary may also be seen upon the breast of one of the Egyptian mummies in the Museum of the London University.[31] The ancient Egyptians were accustomed to putting a cross on their sacred cakes, just as the Christians of to-day do, on Good Friday.[32] The cross was also adored by the ancient Greeks and Romans, long before the crucifixion of Christ. Greek crosses of equal arms adorn the tomb of Midas, the ancient Phrygian king.[33] One of the early Christian Fathers, Minucius Felix, in a heated controversy with the pagan Romans, charged them with adoration of the cross. "As for adoration of the cross," said he to the Romans, "which you object against us, I must tell you that we neither adore crosses nor desire them. You it is, ye Pagans, who worship wooden gods, who are the most likely people to adore wooden crosses, as being part of the same substance with your deities. For what else are your ensigns, flags, and standards, but crosses, gilt and beautiful? Your victorious trophies _not only represent a cross, but a cross with a man upon it_."[34] It also seems that, at a time antedating the early Romans, Etruscans and Sabines, a primitive race inhabited the plains of Northern Italy, "to whom the cross was a religious symbol, the sign beneath which they laid their dead to rest; a people of whom history tells nothing, knowing not their name; but of whom antiquarian research has learned this, that they lived in ignorance of the arts of civilization, that they dwelt in villages built on platforms over lakes, and that they trusted to the cross to guard, and maybe to revive, their loved ones whom they committed to the dust." The cross was also a sacred symbol among the ancient Scandinavians. "It occurs," says Mr. R. P. Knight, "on many Runic monuments found in Sweden and Denmark, which are of an age long anterior to the approach of Christianity to those countries, and, probably, to its appearance in the world."[35] When the Spanish missionaries first set foot on the soil of Mexico, they were amazed to find that the Aztecs worshiped the cross as an object of supreme veneration. They found it suspended as a sacred symbol and an august emblem from the walls of all the Aztec temples.[36] When they penetrated farther south and entered Peru, they found that the Incas adored a cross made out of a single piece of jasper.[37] "It appears," says "Chambers's Encyclopedia," "that the sign of the cross was in use as an emblem having certain religious and mystic meanings attached to it, long before the Christian era; and the Spanish conquerors were astonished to find it an object of religious veneration among the nations of Central and South America."[38] That the ancient Mexicans should have worshiped the cross and also a crucified Savior, called Quetzalcoatle,[39] is one of the strangest phenomena of sacred history. It is a puzzle which the most eminent theologians have found it impossible to solve. They have generally contented themselves with declaring the whole thing a myth built upon primitive superstition and ignorance. This worship of the cross and Quetzalcoatle was going on before Columbus discovered America, and it seems impossible to establish any historical or geographical connection between it and the Christian worship of the cross and the crucified Jesus. Several writers of eminence have contended that the widespread adoration of the cross, as a sacred symbol, among so many races of mankind, ancient and modern, proves a universal spiritual impulse, culminating in the crucifixion of Jesus as the common Savior of the world. "It is more than a coincidence," says the Rev. S. Baring-Gould, "that Osiris by the cross should give life eternal to the spirits of the just; that with the cross Thor should smite the head of the great Serpent, and bring to life those who were slain; that beneath the cross the Muysca mothers should lay their babes, trusting to that sign to secure them from the power of evil spirits; that with that symbol to protect them, the ancient people of Northern Italy should lay them down in the dust."[40] But it is not with the mythical crucifixions of mythical gods that we have to deal. The real, historical death of Jesus upon the cross with its accompanying incidents of outrageous illegality is the purpose of this treatise; and to the accomplishment of that design we now return. CHAPTER VI ROMAN LAW APPLICABLE TO THE TRIAL OF JESUS _What was the law of Rome in relation to the trial of Jesus?_ The answer to this question is referable to the main charge brought against the Master before Pilate. A single verse in St. Luke contains the indictment: "And they began to accuse him, saying, We found this fellow perverting the nation, and forbidding to give tribute to Cæsar, saying that he himself is Christ a King." Three distinct elements are wrapped up in this general accusation; but they are all interwoven with and culminate in the great charge that Jesus claimed to be "Christ a King." Of this accusation alone, Pilate took cognizance. And there is no mistake as to its nature and meaning. It was High Treason against Cæsar--the most awful crime known to Roman law. This was the charge brought by the priests of the Sanhedrin against the Nazarene. What then was the law of Rome in relation to the crime of high treason? The older Roman law, _crimen perduellionis_, applied chiefly to offenses committed in the military service. Deserters from the army were regarded as traitors and punished as public enemies either by death or interdiction of fire and water. Later Roman law broadened the definition of treason until it comprehended any offense against the Roman Commonwealth that affected the dignity and security of the Roman people. Ulpian, defining treason, says: "_Majestatis crimen illud est quod adversus populum Romanum vel adversus securitatem ejus committitur._"[41] Cicero very admirably describes the same crime as: "_Majestatem minuere est de dignitate aut amplitudine aut potestate populi aut eorum quibus populus potestatem dedit aliquid derogare._"[42] The substance of both these definitions is this: Treason is an insult to the dignity or an attack upon the sovereignty and security of the Roman State. From time to time, various laws were passed to define this crime and to provide penalties for its commission. Chief among these were the _lex Julia Majestatis_, 48 B.C. Other laws of an earlier date were the _lex Cornelia_, 81 B.C.; _lex Varia_, 92 B.C.; and the _lex Appuleia_, 100 B.C. The _lex Julia_ was in existence at the time of Christ, and was the basis of the Roman law of treason until the closing years of the empire. One of its provisions was that every accusation of treason against a Roman citizen should be made by a written libel. But it is not probable that provincials were entitled to the benefit of this provision; and it was not therefore an infraction of the law that the priests and Pilate failed to present a written charge against Jesus. [Illustration: TIBERIUS CÆSAR (ANTIQUE SCULPTURE)] In studying the trial of Jesus and the charge brought against Him, the reader should constantly remind himself that the crucifixion took place during the reign of Tiberius Cæsar, a morbid and capricious tyrant, whose fretful and suspicious temper would kindle into fire at the slightest suggestion of treason in any quarter. Tacitus records fifty-two cases of prosecution for treason during his reign. The enormous development of the law of _majestas_ at this time gave rise to a class of professional informers, _delatores_, whose infamous activity against private citizens helped to blacken the name of Tiberius. The most harmless acts were at times construed into an affront to the majesty or into an assault upon the safety of this miserable despot. Cotta Messalinus was prosecuted for treason because it was alleged "that he had given Caligula the nickname of Caia, as contaminated by incest"; and again on another charge that he had styled a banquet among the priests on the birthday of Augusta, a "funeral supper"; and again on another charge that, while complaining of the influence of Manius Lepidus and Lucius Arruntius, with whom he had had trouble in court, he had said that "they indeed will be supported by the senate, but I by my little Tiberius."[43] Manercus Scaurus was prosecuted for treason because he wrote a tragedy in which were certain lines that might be made to apply in an uncomplimentary manner to Tiberius. We are told by Dio that this tragedy was founded on the story of Atreus; and that Tiberius, believing himself referred to, said, "Since he makes me another Atreus, I will make him an Ajax," meaning that he would compel him to destroy himself.[44] "Nor," says Tacitus, "were even women exempt from danger. With designs to usurp the government they could not be charged; their tears are therefore made treason; and Vitia, mother to Fusius Geminus, once consul, was executed in her old age for bewailing the death of her son."[45] An anecdote taken from Seneca but related in Tacitus, illustrates the pernicious activity of the political informers of this age. At a banquet in Rome, one of the guests wore the image of Tiberius on his ring. His slave, seeing his master intoxicated, took the ring off his finger. An informer noticed the act, and, later in the evening, insisted that the owner, to show his contempt of Tiberius, was sitting upon the figure of the emperor. Whereupon he began to draw up an accusation for high treason and was getting ready to have it attested by subscribing witnesses, when the slave took the ring from his own pocket, and thus demonstrated to the whole company that he had had it in his possession all the time. These instances fully serve to illustrate the political tone and temper of the age that witnessed the trial and crucifixion of Jesus. They also suggest the exceedingly delicate and painful position of Pilate when sitting in judgment upon the life of a subject of Tiberius who claimed to be a king. It is deemed entirely appropriate, in this place, to discuss a peculiar phase of the law of treason in its relationship to the trial of Jesus. It is easily demonstrable that the teachings of Christ were treasonable under Roman public law. An essential and dominating principle of that law was that the imperial State had the right to regulate and control the private consciences of men in religious matters. It was held to be an attribute of the sovereignty of Rome that she had the right to create or destroy religions. And the theory of the Roman constitution was that the exercise of this right was not a religious but a governmental function. The modern doctrine of the separation of Church and State had no place in Roman politics at the time of Christ. Tiberius Cæsar, at the beginning of his reign, definitely adopted the principle of a state religion, and as Pontifex Maximus, was bound to protect the ancient Roman worship as a matter of official duty. Roman treatment of foreign religions, from first to last, is a most interesting and fascinating study. Polytheistic above all other nations, the general policy of the Roman empire was one of toleration. Indeed she not only tolerated but adopted and absorbed foreign worships into her own. The Roman religion was a composite of nearly all the religions of the earth. It was thus natural that the imperial State should be indulgent in religious matters, since warfare upon foreign faiths would have been an assault upon integral parts of her own sacred system. It is historically true that attempts were made from time to time by patriotic Romans to preserve the old Latin faith in its original purity from foreign invasion. The introduction of Greek gods was at first vigorously opposed, but the exquisite beauty of Greek sculpture, the irresistible influence of Greek literature, and the overwhelming fascination of Greek myths, finally destroyed this opposition, and placed Apollo and Æsculapius in the Roman pantheon beside Jupiter and Minerva. At another time the senate declared war on the Egyptian worship which was gradually making its way into Rome. It had the images of Isis and Serapis thrown down; but the people set them up again. It decreed that the temples to these deities should be destroyed, but not a single workman would lay hands upon them. Æmilius Paulus, the consul, was himself forced to seize an ax and break in the doors of the temple. In spite of this, the worship of Isis and Serapis was soon again practiced unrestrained at Rome.[46] It is further true that Rome showed not only intolerance but mortal antagonism to Druidism, which was completely annihilated during the reign of the Emperor Claudius. A decree of the Roman senate, during the reign of Tiberius, ordered four thousand freemen charged with Egyptian and Jewish superstitions out to Sardinia to fight against and be destroyed by the banditti there, unless they saw fit to renounce these superstitions within a given time.[47] But it must be remembered that these are exceptional cases of intolerance revealed by Roman history. The general policy of the empire, on the other hand, was of extreme tolerance and liberality. The keynote of this policy was that all religions would be tolerated that consented to live side by side and in peace with all other religions. There was but one restriction upon and limitation of this principle, that foreign religions would be tolerated only in their local seats, or, at most, among the races in which such religions were native. The fact that the worship of Serapis was left undisturbed on the banks of the Nile, did not mean that the same worship would be tolerated on the banks of the Tiber. An express authorization by Rome was necessary for this purpose. Said authorization made said worship a _religio licita_. And the peregrini, or foreigners in Rome, were thus permitted to erect their own altars, and to assemble for the purpose of worshiping their own gods which they had brought with them. The reverse side of this general principle of religious tolerance shows that Roman citizens were not only permitted but required to carry the Roman faith with them throughout the world. Upon them, the Roman state religion was absolutely binding; and for all the balance of the world it was the dominant cult. "The provinces," says Renan, "were entirely free to adhere to their own rights, on the sole condition of not interfering with those of others." "Such toleration or indifference, however," says Döllinger, "found its own limits at once whenever the doctrine taught had a practical bearing on society, interfered with the worship of the state gods, or confronted their worship with one of its own; as well as when a strange god and _cultus_ assumed a hostile attitude toward Roman gods, could be brought into no affinity or corporate relation with them, and would not bend to the supremacy of Jupiter Capitolinus." Now, the principles declared by Renan and Döllinger are fundamental and pointed in the matter of the relationship between the teachings of Jesus and the theory of treason under Roman law. These principles were essential elements of Roman public law, and an attempt to destroy them was an act of treason under the definitions of both Ulpian and Cicero. The Roman constitution required that a foreign religion, as a condition of its very existence, should live in peace with its neighbors; that it should not make war upon or seek to destroy other religions; and that it should acknowledge the dominance and superior character of the imperial religion. All these things Jesus refused to do, as did his followers after Him. The Jews, it is true, had done the same thing, but their nationality and lack of aggressiveness saved them until the destruction of Jerusalem. But Christianity was essentially aggressive and proselytizing. It sought to supplant and destroy all other religions. No compromises were proposed, no treaties concluded. The followers of the Nazarene raised a black flag against paganism and every heathen god. Their strange faith not only defied all other religions, but mocked all earthly government not built upon it. Their propaganda was nothing less than a challenge to the Roman empire in the affairs of both law and religion. Here was a faith which claimed to be the only true religion; that proclaimed a monotheistic message which was death to polytheism; and that refused to be confined within local limits. Here was a religion that scorned an authorization from Rome to worship its god and prophet; a religion that demanded acceptance and obedience from all the world--from Roman and Greek, as well as Jew and Egyptian. This scorn and this demand were an affront to the dignity and a challenge to the laws of the Roman Commonwealth. Such conduct was treason against the constitution of the empire. "The substance of what the Romans did," says Sir James Fitz-James Stephen, "was to treat Christianity by fits and starts as a crime."[48] But why a crime? Because the Roman religion, built upon polytheism, was an integral and inseparable part of the Roman State, and whatever menaced the life of the one, threatened the existence of the other. The Romans regarded their religion as "an engine of state which could not be shaken without the utmost danger to their civil government." Cicero further says: "The institutions of the fathers must be defended; it is the part of wisdom to hold fast the sacred rites and ceremonies."[49] Roman statesmen were fully aware of the truthfulness of the statement of a modern writer that, "wherever the religion of any state falls into disregard and contempt it is impossible for that state to subsist long." Now, Christianity was monotheistic, and threatened destruction to polytheism everywhere. And the Romans treated it as a crime because it was regarded as a form of seditious atheism whose teachings and principles were destructive of the established order of things. The Roman conception of the nature of the crime committed by an attack upon the national religion is well illustrated by the following sentence from Döllinger: "If an opinion unfavorable to the apotheosis of any member of the imperial dynasty happened to be dropped, it was dangerous in itself as falling within the purview of the law of high treason; and so it fell out in the case of Thrasea Pætus, who refused to believe in the deification of Poppæa." If it was high treason to refuse to believe in the deification of an emperor or an empress, what other crime could be imputed to him whose design was to destroy an entire religious system, and to pile all the gods and goddesses--Juno and Poppæa, Jupiter and Augustus--in common ruin? From the foregoing, it may be readily seen that it is impossible to appreciate the legal aspects of the trial of Jesus before Pilate, unless it is constantly kept in mind that the Roman constitution, which was binding upon the whole empire, reserved to the state the right to permit or forbid the existence of new religious faiths and the exercise of rights of conscience in religious matters. Rome was perfectly willing to tolerate all religions as long as they were peaceful and passive in their relations with other religions. But when a new and aggressive faith appeared upon the scene, proclaiming the strange dogma that there was but one name under heaven whereby men might be saved, and demanding that every knee bow at the mention of that name, and threatening damnation upon all who refused, the majesty of Roman law felt itself insulted and outraged; and persecution, torture, and death were the inevitable result. The best and wisest of the Roman emperors, Trajan and the Antonines, devoted to the ax or condemned to crucifixion the early Christians, not because Christianity was spiritually false, but because it was aggressive and intolerant, and they believed its destruction necessary to the maintenance of the supremacy and sovereignty of the Roman State. An interesting correspondence between Pliny and Trajan, while the former was governor of Bithynia, reveals the Roman conception of and attitude toward Christianity. Pliny wrote to Trajan: "In the meanwhile, the method I have observed toward those who have been brought before me as Christians is this: I asked them whether they were Christians; if they admitted it, I repeated the question twice, and threatened them with punishment; if they persisted, I ordered them to be at once punished, for I was persuaded, whatever the nature of their opinions might be, a contumacious and inflexible obstinacy certainly deserved correction. There were others also brought before me possessed with the same infatuation, but being Roman citizens, I directed them to be sent to Rome." To this, Trajan replied: "You have adopted the right course, my dearest Secundus, in investigating the charges against the Christians who were brought before you. It is not possible to lay down any general rule for all such cases. Do not go out of your way to look for them. If, indeed, they should be brought before you, and the crime is proved, they must be punished; with the restriction, however, that where the party denies he is a Christian, and shall make it evident he is not, by invoking our gods, let him (notwithstanding any former suspicion) be pardoned upon his repentance."[50] Here the magnanimous Trajan called Christianity a crime, and this was the popular Roman conception of it during the first two centuries of its existence. Now, it is true that Christianity was not on trial before Pilate; but the Author of Christianity was. And the same legal principles were extant and applicable that afterwards brought the Roman State and the followers of the Nazarene into mortal conflict. For the prisoner who now stood before the procurator to answer the charge of high treason asserted substantially the same claims and proclaimed the same doctrines that afterwards caused Rome to devote His adherents to flames and to wild beasts in the amphitheater. The record does not disclose that Pilate became fully acquainted at the trial of Jesus with His claims and doctrines. On the other hand, it is clear that he became convinced that the claim of Jesus to be "Christ a King" was not a pretension to earthly sovereignty. But, nevertheless, whatever might have been the information or the notions of the deputy of Tiberius, the teachings of Jesus were inconsistent and incompatible with the public law of the Roman State. Pilate was not necessarily called upon to enforce this law, since it was frequently the duty of Roman governors, as intimated by Trajan in his letter to Pliny, to exercise leniency in dealing with religious delinquents. To summarize, then: it may be said that the Roman law applicable to the trial of Jesus was the _lex Julia Majestatis_, interpreted either in the light of claims to actual kingship made by Jesus, or to kingship of a religious realm whose character and existence were a menace to the religion and laws of Rome. In the light of the evidence adduced at the hearing before Pilate, these legal principles become mere abstract propositions, since there seems to have been neither necessity nor attempt to enforce them; but they were in existence, nevertheless, and were directly applicable to the trial of Jesus. [Illustration: PONTIUS PILATE (MUNKACSY)] CHAPTER VII PONTIUS PILATE _His Name._--The prænomen or first name of Pilate is not known. Rosadi calls him Lucius, but upon what authority is not stated. His nomen or family name indicates that he was connected either by descent or by adoption with the gens of the Pontii, a tribe first made famous in Roman history in the person and achievements of C. Pontius Telesinus, the great Samnite general. A German legend, however, offers another explanation. According to this story, Pilate was the natural son of Tyrus, King of Mayence. His father sent him to Rome as a hostage, and there he was guilty of murder. Afterwards he was sent to Pontus, where he distinguished himself by subduing certain barbarian tribes. In recognition of his services, it is said, he received the name Pontius. But this account is a pure fabrication. It is possible that it was invented by the 22d legion, which was assigned to Palestine at the time of the destruction of Jerusalem, and was afterwards stationed at Mayence. The soldiers of this legion might have been "either the bearers of this tradition or the inventors of the fable." It is historically almost certain that Pilate was a native of Seville, one of the cities of Bætic Spain that enjoyed rights of Roman citizenship. In the war of annihilation waged by Agrippa against the Cantabrians, the father of Pilate, Marcus Pontius, acquired fame as a general on the side of Rome. He seems to have been a renegade to the cause of the Spaniards, his countrymen. And when Spain had been conquered by Rome, as a reward for service, and as a mark of distinction, he received the pilum (javelin), and from this fact his family took the name of Pilati. This is the common explanation of the origin of the cognomen Pilatus. Others have sought to derive the word Pilate from _pileatus_, which, among the Romans, was the cap worn as a badge of servitude by manumitted slaves. This derivation would make Pontius Pilate a _libertus_, or the descendant of one. Of his youth, very little is known. But it is believed that, after leaving Spain, he entered the suite of Germanicus on the Rhine and served through the German campaigns; and that, when peace was concluded, he went to Rome in search of fortune and in pursuit of pleasure. _His Marriage._--Soon after his arrival in Rome, Pilate was married to Claudia, the youngest daughter of Julia, the daughter of Augustus. Julia was a woman of the most dissolute and reckless habits. According to Suetonius, nothing so embittered the life of the Roman emperor as the shameful conduct of the mother of the wife of the procurator of Judea. He had reared her with the utmost care, had accustomed her to domestic employments such as knitting and spinning, and had sought to inculcate principles of purity and nobility of soul by requiring her to speak and act openly before the family, that everything which was said and done might be put down in a diary. His guardianship of the attentions paid her by young men was so strict that he once wrote a letter to Lucius Vinicius, a handsome young man of good family, in which he said: "You have not behaved very modestly, in making a visit to my daughter at Baiæ." Notwithstanding this good training, Julia became one of the lewdest and coarsest women in Rome. Augustus married her first to Marcellus; then, after the death of Marcellus, to Marcus Agrippa; and, finally, to Tiberius. But in spite of the noble matches that had been made for her, her lewdness and debaucheries became so notorious that Augustus was compelled to banish her from Rome. It is said that he was so much ashamed of her infamous conduct that for a long time he avoided all company, and even had thoughts of putting her to death. His sorrow and humiliation are shown from the circumstance that when one Phoebe, a freedwoman and confidante of hers, hanged herself about the time the decree of banishment was passed by the senate, he said: "I had rather be the father of Phoebe than of Julia." And whenever the name of Julia was mentioned to him, during her exile, Augustus was wont to exclaim: "Would I were wifeless, or had childless died."[51] Such was the character of Julia, mother-in-law of Pilate. In exile, she bore Claudia to a Roman knight. In her fifteenth year, the young girl met the Spaniard in Rome and was courted by him. Nothing better illustrates the character of Pilate than his union with this woman with whose origin and bringing up he was well acquainted. It was a servile and lustful rather than a noble and affectionate eye which he cast upon her. Having won the favor of Tiberius and the consent of Claudia, the marriage was consummated. After the nuptial rites, tradition has it that Pilate desired to follow the bride in the imperial litter; but Tiberius, who had acted as one of the twelve witnesses required by the law, forced him back, and drawing a paper from his bosom, handed it to him and passed on. This paper contained his commission as procurator of Judea; and the real object of the suit paid to Claudia was attained. Pilate proceeded at once to Cæsarea, the headquarters of the government of his province. His wife, who had been left behind, joined him afterwards. Cæsar's permission to do this was a most gracious concession, as it was not generally allowed that governors of provinces should take their wives with them. At first it was positively forbidden. But afterwards a _senatus consult_, which is embodied in the Justinian text, declared it better that the wives of proconsuls and procurators should not go with them, but ordaining that said officials might take their wives with them provided they made themselves personally responsible for any transgressions on their part. Notwithstanding the numerous restrictions of Roman law and custom, it is very evident that the wives of Roman officers frequently accompanied them to the provinces. From Tacitus we learn that at the time of the death of Augustus, Germanicus had his wife Agrippina with him in Germany; and afterwards, in the beginning of the reign of Tiberius, she was also with him in the East. Piso, the præfect of Syria, took his wife with him at the same time. These facts are historical corroborations of the Gospel accounts of the presence of Claudia in Jerusalem at the time of the crucifixion and of her warning dream to Pilate concerning the fate of the Master. _His Procuratorship._--Pontius Pilate was the sixth procurator of Judea. Sabinus, Coponius, Ambivus, Rufus, and Gratus had preceded him in the government of the province. Pilate's connection with the trial and crucifixion of Jesus will be dealt with in succeeding chapters of this volume. Only the chief acts of his public administration, in a purely political capacity, will be noticed here. One of the first of these acts serves well to illustrate the reckless and tactless character of the man. His predecessors in office had exercised great care in the matter of the religious prejudices of the Jews. They had studiously avoided exhibiting flags and other emblems bearing images of the emperor that might offend the sacred sentiments of the native population. Even Vitellius, the legate of Syria, when he was marching against the Arabian king Aretas, ordered his troops not to carry their standards into Jewish territory, but to march around it. Pilate, on the other hand, in defiance of precedent and policy, caused the garrison soldiers of Jerusalem to enter the city by night carrying aloft their standards, blazoned with the images of Tiberius. The news of this outrage threw the Jews into wild excitement. The people in great numbers flocked down to Cæsarea, where Pilate was still stopping, and begged him to remove the standards. Pilate refused; and for five days the discussion went on. At last he became enraged, summoned the people into the race course, had them surrounded by a detachment of soldiers, and served notice upon them that he would have them put to death if they did not become quiet and disperse. But, not in the least dismayed, they threw themselves upon the ground, laid bare their necks, and, in their turn, served notice upon Pilate that they, the children of Abraham, would rather die, and that they would die, before they would willingly see the Holy City defiled. The result was that Pilate finally yielded, and had the standards and images withdrawn from Jerusalem. Such was the Roman procurator and such the people with whom he had to deal. Thus the very first act of his procuratorship was a blunder which embarrassed his whole subsequent career. A new storm burst forth when, on another occasion, Pilate appropriated funds from the Corban or sacred treasury to complete an aqueduct for bringing water to Jerusalem from the "Pools of Solomon." This was certainly a most useful enterprise; and, ordinarily, would speak well for the statesmanship and administrative ability of the procurator. But, in this instance, it was only another exhibition of tactless behavior in dealing with a stubborn and peculiar people. The Jews had a very great reverence for whatever was set apart for the Corban, and they considered it a form of awful impiety to devote its funds to secular purposes. Pilate, we must assume, was well acquainted with their religious scruples in this regard, and his open defiance of their prejudices was an illustration not of courage, but of weakness in administrative matters. Moreover, his final conduct in the matter of the aqueduct revealed a malignant quality in the temper of the man. On one occasion when he was getting ready to go to Jerusalem to supervise the building of this work, he learned that the people would again importune him, as in the case of the standards and the images. He then deliberately caused some of his soldiers to be disguised as Jewish citizens, had them armed with clubs and daggers, which they carried concealed beneath their upper garments; and when the multitude approached him to make complaints and to present their petitions, he gave a preconcerted signal, at which the assassins beat down and cut to pieces great numbers of the helpless crowds. Pilate was victorious in this matter; for the opposition to the building of the aqueduct was thus crushed in a most bloody manner. But hatred against Pilate was stirred up afresh and intensified in the hearts of the Jews. A third act of defiance of the religious prejudices of the inhabitants of Jerusalem illustrates not only the obstinacy but the stupidity as well of the deputy of Cæsar in Judea. In the face of his previous experiences, he insisted on hanging up in Herod's palace certain gilt shields dedicated to Tiberius. The Jews remonstrated with him in vain for this new outrage upon their national feelings. They were all the more indignant because they believed that he had done it, "less for the honor of Tiberius than for the annoyance of the Jewish people." Upon the refusal of Pilate to remove the shields, a petition signed by the leading men of the nation, among whom were the four sons of Herod, was addressed to the emperor, asking for the removal of the offensive decorations. Tiberius granted the request and the shields were taken from Jerusalem and deposited in the temple of Augustus at Cæsarea--"And thus were preserved both the honor of the emperor and the ancient customs of the city."[52] The instances above cited are recounted in the works of Josephus[53] and Philo. But the New Testament also contains intimations that Pilate was a cruel and reckless governor in his dealings with the Jews. According to St. Luke xiii. 1: "There were present at that season some that told him of the Galileans, whose blood Pilate had mingled with their sacrifices." Nothing definite is known of this incident mentioned by the Evangelist. But it probably refers to the fact that Pilate had put to the sword a number of Galileans while they were offering their sacrifices at Jerusalem. _His Character._--The estimates of the character of Pilate are as varied as the races and creeds of men. Both Josephus and Philo have handed down to posterity a very ugly picture of the sixth Roman procurator of Judea. Philo charges him with "corruptibility, violence, robberies, ill-treatment of the people, grievances, continuous executions without even the form of a trial, endless and intolerable cruelties." If we were to stop with this, we should have a very poor impression of the deputy of Tiberius; and, indeed at best, we can never either admire or love him. But there is a tender and even pathetic side to the character of Pilate, which is revealed to us by the Evangelists of the New Testament. The pure-hearted, gentle-minded authors of the Gospels, in whose writings there is not even a tinge of bitterness or resentment, have restored "for us the man within the governor, with a delicacy, and even tenderness, which make the accusing portrait of Philo and Josephus look like a hard, revengeful daub." Instead of painting him as a monster, they have linked conscience to his character and placed mercy in his heart, by their accounts of his repeated attempts to release Jesus. The extreme of pity and of pathos, derived from these exquisitely merciful side touches of the gentle biographers of the Christ, is manifested in the opinion of Tertullian that Pilate was virtually a Christian at heart.[54] A further manifestation is the fact that the Abyssinian Church of Christians has canonized him and placed his name in the calendar on June 25th. A still further revelation of this spirit of regarding Pilate merely as a sacred instrument in the hands of God is shown by the Apocryphal Gospel of Nicodemus which speaks of him as "uncircumcised in flesh but circumcised in heart." Renan has called him a good administrator, and has sought to condone his brutal treatment of the Jews by pointing to the necessity of vigorous action in dealing with a turbulent and fanatical race. But the combined efforts of both sacred and secular apologists are still not sufficient to save the name of Pilate from the scorn and reprobation of mankind. That he was not a bad man in the worst sense of the term is manifest from the teachings of the Gospel narratives. To believe that he was wholly without conscience is to repudiate the revelations of these sacred writings. Of wanton cruelty and gratuitous wickedness, he was perhaps incapable. But the circumstances of his birth and breeding; his descent from a renegade father; his adventurous life in the army of Germanicus; his contact with and absorption of the skepticism and debauchery of Rome; his marriage to a woman of questionable virtue whose mother was notoriously coarse and lewd--all these things had given coloring to the character of Pilate and had stricken with inward paralysis the moral fiber of his manhood. And now, in the supreme moment of his life and of history, from his nerveless grasp fell the reins of fate and fortune that destiny had placed within his hands. Called upon to play a leading rôle in the mighty drama of the universe, his craven cowardice made him a pitiable and contemptible figure. A splendid example this, the conduct of Pilate, for the youth of the world, not to imitate but to shun! Let the young men of America and of all the earth remember that a crisis is allotted to every life. It may be a great one or a small one, but it will come either invited or unbidden. The sublime courage of the soul does not avoid, but seeks this crisis. The bravest and most holy aspirations leap at times like angels from the temple of the brain to the highest heaven. Never a physician who does not long for the skill that discovers a remedy for disease and that will make him a Pasteur or a Koch; never a poet that does not beseech the muse to inspire him to write a Hamlet or a Faust; never a general of armies who would not fight an Austerlitz battle. Every ambitious soul fervently prays for strength, when the great crisis comes, to swing the hammer of the Cyclop with the arm of the Titan. Let the young aspirant for the glories of the earth and the rewards of heaven remember that youth is the time for the formation of that courage and the gathering of that strength of which victory is born. Let him remember that if he degrades his physical and spiritual manhood in early life, the coming of the great day of his existence will make him another Pilate--cringing, crouching, and contemptible. The true character of the Roman judge of Jesus is thus very tersely given by Dr. Ellicott: "A thorough and complete type of the later Roman man of the world: stern, but not relentless; shrewd and worldworn, prompt and practical, haughtily just, and yet, as the early writers correctly perceived, self-seeking and cowardly; able to perceive what was right, but without moral strength to follow it out."[55] _His End._--Pilate's utter recklessness was the final cause of his undoing. It was an old belief among the Samaritans that Moses buried the sacred vessels of the temple on Mt. Gerizim. An impostor, a sort of pseudo-prophet, promised the people that if they would assemble on the top of the mountain, he would unearth the holy utensils in their presence. The simple-minded Samaritans assembled in great numbers at the foot of the Mount, and there preparing to ascend, when Pilate on the pretense that they were revolutionists, intercepted them with a strong force of horse and foot. Those who did not immediately submit were either slain or put to flight. The most notable among the captives were put to death. The Samaritans at once complained to Vitellius, the legate in Syria at that time. Vitellius at once turned over the administration of Judea to Marcellus and ordered Pilate to leave for Rome in order to give an account to the emperor of the charges brought against him by the Jews.[56] Before he arrived in Italy, Tiberius had died; but Pilate never returned to the province over which he had ruled during ten bloody and eventful years. "_Paradosis Pilati._"--The death of Pilate is clouded in mystery and legend. Where and when he died is not known. Two apocryphal accounts are interesting, though false and ridiculous. According to one legend, the "Paradosis Pilati," the emperor Tiberius, startled and terrified at the universal darkness that had fallen on the Roman world at the hour of the crucifixion, summoned Pilate to Rome to answer for having caused it. He was found guilty and condemned to death; but before he was executed, he prayed to Jesus that he might not be destroyed in eternity with the wicked Jews, and pleaded ignorance as an excuse for having delivered the Christ to be crucified. A voice from heaven answered his prayer, and assured him that all generations would call him blessed, and that he should be a witness for Christ at his second coming to judge the Twelve Tribes of Israel. He was then executed; an angel, according to the legend, received his head; and his wife died from joy and was buried with him. "_Mors Pilati._"--According to another legend, the "Mors Pilati," Tiberius had heard of the miracles of healing wrought by Jesus in Judea. He ordered Pilate to conduct to Rome the man possessed of such divine power. But Pilate was forced to confess that he had crucified the miracle worker. The messenger sent by Tiberius met Veronica who gave him the cloth that had received the impress of the divine features. This was taken to Rome and given to the emperor, who was restored to health by it. Pilate was summoned immediately to stand trial for the execution of the Christ. He presented himself wearing the holy tunic. This acted as a charm upon the emperor, who temporarily relented. After a time, however, Pilate was thrown into prison, where he committed suicide. His body was thrown into the Tiber. Storms and tempests immediately followed, and the Romans were compelled to take out the corpse and send it to Vienne, where it was cast into the Rhone. But as the storms and tempests came again, the body was again removed and sent to Lucerne, where it was sunk in a deep pool, surrounded by mountains on all sides. Even then, it is said, the water of the pool began to boil and bubble strangely. This tradition must have had its origin in an early attempt to connect the name of Pilate with Mt. Pilatus that overlooks Lake Lucerne. Another legend connected with this mountain is that Pilate sought to find an asylum from his sorrows in its shadows and recesses; that, after spending years in remorse and despair, wandering up and down its sides, he plunged into the dismal lake which occupies its summit. In times past, popular superstition was wont to relate how "a form is often seen to emerge from the gloomy waters, and go through the action of washing his hands; and when he does so, dark clouds of mist gather first round the bosom of the Infernal Lake (such as it has been styled of old) and then wrapping the whole upper part of the mountain in darkness, presage a tempest or hurricane which is sure to follow in a short space."[57] The superstitious Swiss believed for many centuries that if a stone were thrown into the lake a violent storm would follow. For many years no one was permitted to visit it without special authority from the officers of Lucerne. The neighboring shepherds bound themselves by a solemn oath, which they renewed annually, never to guide a stranger to it.[58] The strange spell was broken, however, and the legend exploded in 1584, when Johannes Müller, curé of Lucerne, was bold enough to throw stones into the lake, and to stand by complacently to await the consequences.[59] CHAPTER VIII JESUS BEFORE PILATE At the close of their trial, according to Matthew[60] and Mark,[61] the high priest and the entire Sanhedrin led Jesus away to the tribunal of the Roman governor. It was early morning, probably between six and seven o'clock, when the accusing multitude moved from the judgment seat of Caiaphas to the Prætorium of Pilate. Oriental labor anticipates the day because of the excessive heat of noon; and, at daybreak, Eastern life is all astir. To accommodate the people and to enjoy the repose of midday, Roman governors, Suetonius tells us, mounted the _bema_ at sunrise. The location of the judgment hall of Pilate in Jerusalem is not certainly known. It may have been in the Castle of Antonia, a frowning fortress that overlooked the Temple and its courts. Much more probably, however, it was the magnificent palace of Herod, situated in the northwest quarter of the city. This probability is heightened by the fact that it was a custom born of both pride and pleasure, for Roman procurators and proconsuls to occupy the splendid edifices of the local kings. The Roman proprætor of Sicily dwelt in the Castle of King Hiero; and it is reasonable to suppose that Pilate would have passed his time while at Jerusalem in the palace of Herod. This building was frequently called the "King's Castle," sometimes was styled the "Prætorium," and was often given the mixed name of "Herod's Prætorium." But, by whatever name known, it was of gorgeous architecture and magnificent proportions. Keim describes it as "a tyrant's stronghold and in part a fairy pleasure-house." A wall thirty cubits high completely encircled the buildings of the palace. Beautiful white towers crowned this wall at regular intervals. Three of these were named in honor of Mariamne, the wife; Hippicus, the friend; and Phasælus, the brother of the king. Within the inclosure of the wall, a small army could have been garrisoned. The floors and ceilings of the palace were decorated and adorned with the finest woods and precious stones. Projecting from the main building were two colossal marble wings, named for two Roman imperial friends, the Cæsareum and the Ægrippeum. To a person standing in one of the towers, a magnificent prospect opened to the view. Surrounding the castle walls were beautiful green parks, intercepted with broad walks and deep canals. Here and there splashing fountains gushed from brazen mouths. A hundred dovecots, scattered about the basins and filled with cooing and fluttering inmates, lent charm and animation to the scene. And to crown the whole, was the splendid panorama of Jerusalem stretching away among the hills and valleys. Such was the residence of the Roman knight who at this time ruled Judea. And yet, with all its regal splendor and magnificence, he inhabited it only a few weeks in each year. The Jewish metropolis had no fascination whatever for the tastes and accomplishments of Pilate. "The saddest region in the world," says Renan, who had been imbued, from long residence there, with its melancholy character, "is perhaps that which surrounds Jerusalem." "To the Spaniard," says Rosadi, "who had come to Jerusalem, by way of Rome, and who was also of courtly origin, there could have been nothing pleasing in the parched, arid and colorless nature of Palestine, much less in the humble, mystic, out-at-elbows existence of its people. Their superstition, which would have nothing of Roman idolatry, which was their sole belief, their all, appeared to him a reasonable explanation, and a legitimate one, of their disdain and opposition. He therefore detested the Jews, and his detestation was fully reciprocated." It is not surprising, then, that he preferred to reside at Cæsarea by the sea where were present Roman modes of thought and forms of life. He visited Jerusalem as a matter of official duty, "during the festivals, and particularly at Easter with its dreaded inspirations of the Jewish longing for freedom, which the festival, the air of spring and the great rendezvous of the nation, charmed into activity." In keeping with this custom, Pilate was now in the Jewish Capital on the occasion of the feast of the Passover. Having condemned Him to death themselves, the Sanhedrin judges were compelled to lead Jesus away to the Prætorium of the Roman governor to see what he had to say about the case; whether he would reverse or affirm the condemnation which they had pronounced. Between dawn and sunrise, they were at the palace gates. Here they were compelled to halt. The Passover had commenced, and to enter the procurator's palace at such a time was to incur Levitic contamination. A dozen judicial blunders had marked the proceedings of their own trial in the palace of Caiaphas. And yet they hesitated to violate a purely ritual regulation in the matter of ceremonial defilement. This regulation was a prohibition to eat fermented food during the Passover Feast, and was sacred to the memory of the great deliverance from Egyptian bondage when the children of Israel, in their flight, had no time to ferment their dough and were compelled to consume it before it had been leavened. Their purposes and scruples were announced to Pilate; and, in a spirit of gracious and politic condescension, he removed the difficulty by coming out to meet them. But this action was really neither an inconvenience nor a condescension; for it was usual to conduct Roman trials in the open air. Publicity was characteristic of all Roman criminal proceedings. And, in obedience to this principle, we find that the proconsul of Achaia at Corinth, the city magistrates in Macedonia, and the procurators at Cæsarea and Jerusalem, erected their tribunals in the most conspicuous public places, such as the market, the race course, and even upon the open highway.[62] An example directly in point is, moreover, that of the procurator Florus who caused his judgment seat to be raised in front of the palace of Herod, A.D. 66, and, enthroned thereon, received the great men of Jerusalem who came to see him and gathered around his tribunal. To the same place, according to Josephus, the Jewish queen Bernice came barefoot and suppliant to ask favors of Florus.[63] The act of Pilate in emerging from the palace to meet the Jews was, therefore, in exact compliance with Roman custom. His judgment seat was doubtless raised immediately in front of the entrance and between the great marble wings of the palace. Pilate's tribune or _bema_ was located in this space on the elevated spot called Gabaatha, an Aramaic word signifying an eminence, a "hump." The same place in Greek was called Lithostroton, and signified "The Pavement," because it was laid with Roman marble mosaic. The location on an eminence was in accordance with a maxim of Roman law that all criminal trials should be directed from a raised tribunal where everybody could see and understand what was being said and done. The ivory curule chair of the procurator, or perhaps the ancient golden royal chair of Archelaus was placed upon the tessellated pavement and was designed for the use of the governor. As a general thing, there was sitting room on the tribunal for the assessors, the accusers and the accused. But such courtesies and conveniences were not extended to the despised subjects of Judea; and Jesus, as well as the members of the Sanhedrin, was compelled to stand. The Latin language was the official tongue of the Roman empire, and was generally used in the administration of justice. But at the trial of Jesus it is believed that the Greek language was the medium of communication. Jesus had doubtless become acquainted with Greek in Galilee and probably replied to Pilate in that tongue. This is the opinion, at least, of both Keim[64] and Geikie.[65] The former asserts that there was no interpreter called at the trial of Christ. It is also reasonably certain that no special orator like Tertullus, who informed the governor against Paul, was present to accuse Jesus.[66] Doubtless Caiaphas the high priest played this important rôle. When Pilate had mounted the _bema_, and order had been restored, he asked: "What accusation bring ye against this man?" This question is keenly suggestive of the presence of a judge and of the beginning of a solemn judicial proceeding. Every word rings with Roman authority and administrative capacity. The suggestion is also prominent that accusation was a more important element in Roman criminal trials than inquisition. This suggestion is reënforced by actual _dictum_ from the lips of Pilate's successor in the same place: "It is not the manner of the Romans to deliver any man to die, before that he which is accused have the accusers face to face, and have license to answer for himself concerning the crime laid against him."[67] The chief priests and scribes sought to evade this question by answering: "If he were not a malefactor, we would not have delivered him up unto thee."[68] They meant by this that they desired the procurator to waive his right to retry the case; accept their trial as conclusive; and content himself with the mere execution of the sentence. In this reply of the priests to the initial question of the Roman judge, is also revealed the further question of that conflict of jurisdiction between Jews and Romans that we have already so fully discussed. "If he were not a malefactor, we would not have delivered him up unto thee." These words from the mouths of the priests were intended to convey to the mind of Pilate the Jewish notion that a judgment by the Sanhedrin was all-sufficient; and that they merely needed his countersign to justify execution. But Pilate did not take the hint or view the question in that light. In a tone of contemptuous scorn he simply replied: "Take ye him, and judge him according to your law." This answer indicates that Pilate did not, at first, understand the exact nature of the proceedings against Jesus. He evidently did not know that the prisoner had been charged with a capital offense; else he would not have suggested that the Jews take jurisdiction of the matter. This is clearly shown from the further reply of the priestly accusers: "It is not lawful for us to put any man to death."[69] The advice of Pilate and the retort of the Jews have been construed in two ways. A certain class of critics have contended that the procurator granted to the Jews in this instance the right to carry out capital punishment, as others have maintained was the case in the execution of Stephen. This construction argues that Pilate knew at once the nature of the accusation. Another class of writers contend that the governor, by this language, merely proposed to them one of the minor penalties which they were already empowered to execute. The objection to the first interpretation is that the Jews would have been delighted to have such power conferred upon them, and would have exercised it; unless it is true, as has been held, that they were desirous of throwing the odium of Christ's death upon the Romans. The second construction is entirely admissible, because it is consonant with the theory that jurisdiction in capital cases had been withdrawn from the Sanhedrin, but that the trial and punishment of petty offenses still remained with it. A third and more reasonable interpretation still is that when Pilate said, "Take ye him and judge him according to your law," he intended to give expression to the hatred and bitterness of his cynical and sarcastic soul. He despised the Jews most heartily, and he knew that they hated him. He had repeatedly outraged their religious feelings by introducing images and shields into the Holy City. He had devoted the Corban funds to unhallowed purposes, and had mingled the blood of the Galileans with their sacrifices. In short, he had left nothing undone to humiliate and degrade them. Now here was another opportunity. By telling them to judge Jesus according to their own laws, he knew that they must make a reply which would be wounding and galling to their race and national pride. He knew that they would have to confess that sovereignty and nationality were gone from them. Such a confession from them would be music to his ear. The substance of his advice to the Jews was to exercise their rights to a certain point, to the moment of condemnation; but to stop at the place where their sweetest desires would be gratified with the exercise of the rights of sovereignty and nationality. Modern poetry supports this interpretation of ancient history. "The Merchant of Venice" reveals the same method of heaping ridicule upon a Jew by making him impotent to execute the law. Shylock, the Jew, in contracting a usurious loan, inserted a stipulation that if the debt should not be paid when due, the debtor must allow a pound of flesh to be cut from his body. The debt was not discharged at the maturity of the bond, and Shylock made application to the Doge to have the pound of human flesh delivered to him in accordance with the compact. But Portia, a friend of the debtor, though a woman, assumed the garb and affected the speech of a lawyer in his defense; and, in pleading the case, called tauntingly and exultingly to the Jew: This bond doth give thee here no jot of blood; The words expressly are, a pound of flesh: Take then thy bond, take thou thy pound of flesh; But, in the cutting it, if thou dost shed One drop of Christian blood, thy lands and goods Are by the laws of Venice confiscate Unto the State of Venice.[70] But whatever special interpretation may be placed upon the opening words passed between the priestly accusers and the Roman judge, it is clearly evident that the latter did not intend to surrender to the former the right to impose and execute a sentence of death. The substance of Pilate's address to the Jews, when they sought to evade his question concerning the accusation which they had to bring against Jesus, was this: I have asked for a specific charge against the man whom you have brought bound to me. You have given not a direct, but an equivocal answer. I infer that the crime with which you charge him is one against your own laws. With such offenses I do not wish to meddle. Therefore, I say unto you: "Take ye him and judge him according to your law." If I am not to know the specific charge against him, I will not assume cognizance of the case. If the accusation and the facts relied upon to support it are not placed before me, I will not sentence the man to death; and, under the law, you cannot. The Jews were thus thwarted in their designs. They had hoped to secure a countersign of their own judgment without a retrial by the governor. They now found him in no yielding and accommodating mood. They were thus forced against their will and expectation to formulate specific charges against the prisoner in their midst. The indictment as they presented it, is given in a single verse of St. Luke: "And they began to accuse him, saying, We found this fellow perverting the nation, and forbidding to give tribute to Cæsar, saying that he himself is Christ, a King."[71] It is noteworthy that in this general accusation is a radical departure from the charges of the night before. In the passage from the Sanhedrin to the Prætorium, the indictment had completely changed. Jesus had not been condemned on any of the charges recorded in this sentence of St. Luke. He had been convicted on the charge of blasphemy. But before Pilate he is now charged with high treason. To meet the emergency of a change of jurisdiction, the priestly accusers converted the accusation from a religious into a political offense. It may be asked why the Sanhedrists did not maintain the same charges before Pilate that they themselves had considered before their own tribunal. Why did they not lead Jesus into the presence of the Roman magistrate and say: O Governor, we have here a Galilean blasphemer of Jehovah. We want him tried on the charge of blasphemy, convicted and sentenced to death. Why did they not do this? They were evidently too shrewd. Why? Because, in legal parlance, they would have had no standing in court. Why? Because blasphemy was not an offense against Roman law, and Roman judges would generally assume cognizance of no such charges. The Jews understood perfectly well at the trial before Pilate the principle of Roman procedure so admirably expressed a few years later by Gallio, proconsul of Achaia, and brother of Seneca: "If it were a matter of wrong or wicked lewdness, O ye Jews, reason would that I should bear with you: but if it be a question of words and names, and of your law, look ye to it; for I will be no judge of such matters."[72] This attitude of Roman governors toward offenses of a religious nature perfectly explains the Jewish change of front in the matter of the accusation against Jesus. They merely wanted to get themselves into a Roman court on charges that a Roman judge would consent to try. In the threefold accusation recorded by the third Evangelist, they fully accomplished this result. The first count in the indictment, that He was perverting the nation, was vague and indefinite, but was undoubtedly against Roman law, because it was in the nature of sedition, which was one of the forms of treason under Roman jurisprudence. This charge of perverting the nation was in the nature of the revival of the accusation of sedition which they had first brought forward by means of the false witnesses before their own tribunal, and that had been abandoned because of the contradictory testimony of these witnesses. The second count in the indictment, that He had forbidden to give tribute to Cæsar, was of a more serious nature than the first. A refusal, in modern times, to pay taxes or an attempt to obstruct their collection, is a mild offense compared with a similar act under ancient Roman law. To forbid to pay tribute to Cæsar in Judea was a form of treason, not only because it was an open defiance of the laws of the Roman state, but also because it was a direct denial of Roman sovereignty in Palestine. Such conduct was treason under the definitions of both Ulpian and Cicero. The Jews knew the gravity of the offense when they sought to entrap Jesus in the matter of paying tribute to Cæsar. They believed that any answer to the question that they had asked, would be fatal to Him. If He advised to pay the imperial tribute, He could be charged with being an enemy to His countrymen, the Jews. If He advised not to pay the tribute, He would be charged with being a rebellious subject of Cæsar. His reply disconcerted and bewildered them when He said: "Render therefore unto Cæsar the things which are Cæsar's; and unto God the things that are God's."[73] In this sublime declaration, the Nazarene announced the immortal principle of the separation of church and state, and of religious freedom in all the ages. And when, in the face of His answer, they still charged Him with forbidding to pay tribute to Cæsar, they seem to have been guilty of deliberate falsehood. Keim calls the charge "a very flagrant lie." Both at Capernaum,[74] where Roman taxes were gathered, and at Jerusalem,[75] where religious dues were offered, Jesus seems to have been both a good citizen and a pious Jew. "Jésus bon citoyen" (Jesus a good citizen) is the title of a chapter in the famous work of Bossuet entitled "Politique tirée de l'Ecriture sainte." In it the great French ecclesiastic describes very beautifully the law-abiding qualities of the citizen-prophet of Galilee. In pressing the false charge that he had advised not to pay taxes to Rome, the enemies of Jesus revealed a peculiar and wanton malignity. The third count in the indictment, that the prisoner had claimed to be "Christ a King," was the last and greatest of the charges. By this He was deliberately accused of high treason against Cæsar, the gravest offense known to Roman law. Such an accusation could not be ignored by Pilate as a loyal deputy of Tiberius. The Roman monarch saw high treason in every word and act that was uncomplimentary to his person or dangerous to his power. Fifty-two prosecutions for treason, says Tacitus, took place during his reign. The charges of high treason and sedition against Jesus were all the more serious because the Romans believed Palestine to be the hotbed of insurrection and sedition, and the birthplace of pretenders to kingly powers. They had recently had trouble with claimants to thrones, some of them from the lowest and most ignoble ranks. Judas, the son of Hezekiah, whom Herod had caused to be put to death, proclaimed royal intentions, gathered quite a multitude of adherents about him in the neighborhood of Sepphoris in Galilee, raised an insurrection, assaulted and captured the palace of the king at Sepphoris, seized all the weapons that were stored away in it, and armed his followers with them. Josephus does not tell us what became of this royal pretender; but he does say that "he became terrible to all men, by tearing and rending those that came near him."[76] In the province of Perea, a certain Simon, who was formerly a slave of Herod, collected a band of followers, and had himself proclaimed king by them. He burned down the royal palace at Jericho, after having plundered it. A detachment under the command of the Roman general Gratus made short work of the pretensions of Simon by capturing his adherents and putting him to death.[77] Again, a certain peasant named Athronges, formerly a shepherd, claimed to be a king, and for a long time, in concert with his four brothers, annoyed the authorities of the country, until the insurrection was finally broken up by Gratus and Ptolemy.[78] In short, during the life of Jesus, Judea was passing through a period of great religious and political excitement. The Messiah was expected and a king was hoped for; and numerous pretenders appeared from time to time. The Roman governors were constantly on the outlook for acts of sedition and treason. And when the Jews led Jesus into the presence of Pilate and charged Him with claiming to be a king, the recent cases of Judas, Simon, and Athronges must have arisen in his mind, quickened his interest in the pretensions of the prisoner of the Jews, and must have awakened his sense of loyalty as Cæsar's representative. The lowliness of Jesus, being a carpenter, did not greatly allay his fears; for he must have remembered that Simon was once a slave and that Athronges was nothing more than a simple shepherd. When Pilate had heard the accusations of the Jews, he deliberately arose from his judgment seat, gathered his toga about him, motioned the mob to stand back, and beckoned Jesus to follow him into the palace. St. John alone tells us of this occurrence.[79] At another time, in the Galilean simplicity and freedom of His nature, the Prophet of Nazareth had spoken with a tinge of censure and sarcasm of the rulers of the Gentiles that lorded it over their subjects,[80] and had declared that "they that wear soft clothing are in kings' houses."[81] Now the lowly Jewish peasant was entering for the first time a palace of one of the rulers of the Gentiles in which were soft raiment and royal purple. The imagination is helpless to picture the historical reflections born of the memories of that hour. A meek and lowly carpenter enters a king's palace on his way to an ignominious death upon the cross; and yet the greatest kings of all the centuries that followed were humble worshipers in their palaces before the cross that had been the instrument of his torture and degradation. Such is the irony of history; such is the mystery of God's providence; such is the mystic ebb and flow of the tides and currents of destiny and fate. Of the examination of Jesus inside the palace, little is known. Pilate, it seems, brushed the first two charges aside as unworthy of serious consideration; and proceeded at once to examine the prisoner on the charge that he pretended to be a king. "If," Pilate must have said, "the fellow pretends to be a king, as Simon and Athronges did before him; if he says that Judea has a right to have a king other than Cæsar, he is guilty of treason, and it is my solemn duty as deputy of Tiberius to ascertain the fact and have him put to death." The beginning of the interrogation of Jesus within the palace is reported by all the Evangelists in the same words. Addressing the prisoner, Pilate asked: "Art thou the King of the Jews?" "Jesus answered him, Sayest thou this thing of thyself, or did others tell it thee of me?"[82] This was a most natural and fitting response of the Nazarene to the Roman. It was necessary first to understand the exact nature of the question before an appropriate answer could be made. Jesus simply wished to know whether the question was asked from a Roman or a Jewish, from a temporal or a spiritual standpoint. If the interrogation was directed from a Roman, a temporal point of view, His answer would be an emphatic negative. If the inquiry had been prompted by the Jews, it was then pregnant with religious meaning, and called for a different reply; one that would at once repudiate pretensions to earthly royalty, and, at the same time, assert His claims to the Messiahship and heavenly sovereignty. "Pilate answered, Am I a Jew? Thine own nation and the chief priests have delivered thee unto me: What hast thou done?" To this Jesus replied: "My kingdom is not of this world: if my kingdom were of this world, then would my servants fight, that I should not be delivered to the Jews: but now is my kingdom not from hence."[83] This reply of the Master is couched in that involved, aphoristic, strangely beautiful style that characterized His speech at critical moments in His career. Its import is clear, though expressed in a double sense: first from the Roman political, and then from the Jewish religious side. First He answered negatively: "My kingdom is not of this world." By this He meant that there was no possible rivalry between Him and Cæsar. But, in making this denial, He had used two words of grave import: My Kingdom. He had used one word that struck the ear of Pilate with electric force: the word Kingdom. In the use of that word, according to Pilate's reasoning, Jesus stood self-convicted. For how, thought Pilate, can He pretend to have a Kingdom, unless He pretends to be a king? And then, as if to cow and intimidate the prisoner, as if to avoid an unpleasant issue of the affair, he probably advanced threateningly upon the Christ, and asked the question which the Bible puts in his mouth: "Art thou a king then?" Rising from the simple dignity of a man to the beauty and glory and grandeur of a God, Jesus used the most wonderful, beautiful, meaningful words in the literature of the earth: "Thou sayest that I am a king. To this end was I born, and for this cause came I into the world, that I should bear witness unto the truth. Everyone that is of the truth heareth my voice."[84] This language contains a perfectly clear description of the kingdom of Christ and of His title to spiritual sovereignty. His was not an empire of matter, but a realm of truth. His kingdom differed widely from that of Cæsar. Cæsar's empire was over the bodies of men; Christ's over their souls. The strength of Cæsar's kingdom was in citadels, armies, navies, the towering Alps, the all-engirdling seas. The strength of the kingdom of the Christ was and is and will ever be in sentiments, principles, ideas, and the saving power of a divine word. But, as clever and brilliant as he must have been, Pilate could not grasp the true meaning of the words of the Prophet. The spiritual and intellectual grandeur of the Galilean peasant was beyond the reach of the Roman lord and governor. In a cynical and sarcastic mood, Pilate turned to Jesus and asked: "What is truth?"[85] This pointed question was the legitimate offspring of the soul of Pilate and a natural product of the Roman civilization of his age. It was not asked with any real desire to know the truth; for he turned to leave the palace before an answer could be given. It was simply a blank response born of mental wretchedness and doubt. If prompted by any silent yearning for a knowledge of the truth, his conduct indicated clearly that he did not hope to have that longing satisfied by the words of the humble prisoner in his charge. "What is truth?" An instinctive utterance this, prompted by previous sad reflections upon the wrecks of philosophy in search of truth. We have reason to believe that Pilate was a man of brilliant parts and studious habits. His marriage into the Roman royal family argued not only splendid physical endowments, but rare intellectual gifts as well. Only on this hypothesis can we explain his rise from obscurity in Spain to a place in the royal family as husband of the granddaughter of Augustus and foster daughter of Tiberius. Then he was familiar, if he was thus endowed and accomplished, with the despairing efforts of his age and country to solve the mysteries of life and to ascertain the end of man. He had doubtless, as a student, "mused and mourned over Greece, and its search of truth intellectual--its keen and fruitless search, never-ending, ever beginning, across wastes of doubt and seas of speculation lighted by uncertain stars." He knew full well that Roman philosophy had been wrecked and stranded amidst the floating débris of Grecian thought and speculation. He had thought that the _ultima ratio_ of Academicians and Peripatetics, of Stoics and Epicureans had been reached. But here was a new proposition--a kingdom of truth whose sovereign had as subjects mere vagaries, simple mental conceptions called truths--a kingdom whose boundaries were not mountains, seas, and rivers, but clouds, hopes, and dreams. What did Pilate think of Jesus? He evidently regarded Him as an amiable enthusiast, a harmless religious fanatic from whom Cæsar had nothing to fear. While alone with Jesus in the palace, he must have reasoned thus with himself, silently and contemptuously: The mob outside tells me that this man is Rome's enemy. Foolish thought! We know who Cæsar's enemies are. We have seen and heard and felt the enemies of Rome--barbarians from beyond the Danube and the Rhine--great strong men, who can drive a javelin not only through a man, but a horse, as well. These are Cæsar's enemies. This strange and melancholy man, whose subjects are mere abstract truths, and whose kingdom is beyond the skies, can be no enemy of Cæsar. Believing this, he went out to the rabble and pronounced a verdict of acquittal: "I find in him no fault at all." Pilate had tried and acquitted Jesus. Why did he not release Him, and, if need be, protect Him with his cohort from the assaults of the Jews? Mankind has asked for nearly two thousand years why a Roman, with the blood of a Roman in him, with the glorious prestige and stern authority of the Roman empire at his back, with a Roman legion at his command, did not have the courage to do the high Roman act. Pilate was a moral and intellectual coward of arrant type. This is his proper characterization and a fitting answer to the world's eternal question. The Jews heard his sentence of acquittal in sullen silence. Desperately resolved to prevent His release, they began at once to frame new accusations. "And they were the more fierce, saying, He stirreth up the people, teaching throughout all Jewry, beginning from Galilee to this place."[86] This charge was intended by the Jews to serve a double purpose: to strengthen the general accusation of high treason recorded by St. Luke; and to embitter and poison the mind of the judge against the prisoner by telling Pilate that Jesus was from Galilee. In ancient times Galilee was noted as the hotbed of riot and sedition. The Galileans were brave and hardy mountaineers who feared neither Rome nor Judea. As champions of Jewish nationality, they were the fiercest opponents of Roman rule; and in the final catastrophe of Jewish history they were the last to be driven from the battlements of Jerusalem. As advocates and preservers of the purity of the primitive Jewish faith, they were relentless foes of Pharisaic and Sadducean hypocrisy as it was manifested by the Judean keepers of the Temple. The Galileans were hated, therefore, by both Romans and Judeans; and the Sanhedrists believed that Pilate would make short work of Jesus if he learned that the prisoner was from Galilee. But a different train of thought was excited in the mind of the Roman governor. He was thinking about one thing, and they about another. Pilate showed himself throughout the trial a craven coward and contemptible timeserver. From beginning to end, his conduct was a record of cowardice and subterfuge. He was constantly looking for loopholes of escape. His heart's desire was to satisfy at once both his conscience and the mob. The mention of Galilee was a ray of light that fell across the troubled path of the cowardly and vacillating judge. He believed that he saw an avenue of escape. He asked the Jews if Jesus was a Galilean. An affirmative reply was given. Pilate then determined to rid himself of responsibility by sending Jesus to be tried by the governor of the province to which He belonged. He felt that fortune favored his design; for Herod, Tetrarch of Galilee, was at that very moment in Jerusalem in attendance upon the Passover feast. He acted at once upon the happy idea; and, under the escort of a detachment of the Prætorian Cohort, Jesus was led away to the palace of the Maccabees where Herod was accustomed to stop when he came to the Holy City. CHAPTER IX JESUS BEFORE HEROD It was still early morning when Jesus, guarded by Roman soldiers and surrounded by a jeering, scoffing, raging multitude of Jews, was conducted to the palace of the Maccabees on the slope of Zion, the official residence of Herod when he came to Jerusalem to attend the sacred festivals. This place was to the northeast of the palace of Herod and only a few streets distant from it. The journey must have lasted therefore only a few minutes. But who was this Herod before whom Jesus now appeared in chains? History mentions many Herods, the greatest and meanest of whom was Herod I, surnamed the Great, who ordered the massacre of the Innocents at Bethlehem. At his death, he bequeathed his kingdom to his sons. But being a client-prince, a _rex socius_, he could not finally dispose of his realm without the consent of Rome. Herod had made several wills, and, at his death, contests arose between his sons for the vacant throne of the father. Several embassies were sent to Rome to argue the rights of the different claimants. Augustus granted the petitioners many audiences; and, after long delay, finally confirmed practically the last will of Herod. This decision gave Judea, Samaria, and Idumea, with a tribute of six hundred talents, to Archelaus. Philip received the regions of Gaulanitis, Auranitis, Trachonitis, Batanea, and Iturea, with an income of one hundred talents. Herod Antipas was given the provinces of Galilee and Perea, with an annual tribute of two hundred talents and the title of Tetrarch. The title of Ethnarch was conferred upon Archelaus. Herod Antipas, Tetrarch of Galilee, was the man before whom Jesus, his subject, was now led to be judged. The pages of sacred history mention the name of no more shallow and contemptible character than this petty princeling, this dissolute Idumæan Sadducee. Compared with him, Judas is eminently respectable. Judas had a conscience which, when smitten with remorse, drove him to suicide. It is doubtful whether Herod had a spark of that celestial fire which we call conscience. He was a typical Oriental prince whose chief aim in life was the gratification of his passions. The worthlessness of his character was so pronounced that it excited a nauseating disgust in the mind of Jesus, and disturbed for a moment that serene and lofty magnanimity which characterized His whole life and conduct. To Herod is addressed the only purely contemptuous epithet that the Master is ever recorded to have used. "And he said unto them, Go ye, and tell _that fox_, Behold, I cast out devils, and I do cures to-day and to-morrow, and the third day I shall be perfected."[87] The son of a father who was ten times married and had murdered many of his wives; the murderer himself of John the Baptist; the slave of a lewd and wicked woman--what better could be expected than a cruel, crafty, worthless character, whose attributes were those of the fox? But why was Jesus sent to Herod? Doubtless because Pilate wished to shift the responsibility from his own shoulders, as a Roman judge, to those of the Galilean Tetrarch. A subsidiary purpose may have been to conciliate Herod, with whom, history says, he had had a quarrel. The cause of the trouble between them is not known. Many believe that the murder of the Galileans while sacrificing in the Temple was the origin of the unpleasantness. Others contend that this occurrence was the result and not the cause of the quarrel between Pilate and Herod. Still others believe that the question of the occupancy of the magnificent palace of Herod engendered ill feeling between the rival potentates. Herod had all the love of gorgeous architecture and luxurious living that characterized the whole Herodian family. And, besides, he doubtless felt that he should be permitted to occupy the palace of his ancestors on the occasion of his visits to Jerusalem. But Pilate would naturally object to this, as he was the representative of almighty Rome in a conquered province and could not afford to give way, in a matter of palatial residence, to a petty local prince. But, whatever the cause, the unfriendliness between them undoubtedly had much to do with the transfer of Jesus from the Prætorium to the palace of the Maccabees. "And when Herod saw Jesus, he was exceeding glad: for he was desirous to see him for a long season, because he had heard many things of him; and he hoped to have seen some miracle done by him."[88] This passage of Scripture throws much light upon Herod's opinion and estimate of Jesus. Fearing that he was the successor and imitator of Judas the Gaulonite, Herod at first sought to drive Him from his province by sending spies to warn Him to flee. The courageous and contemptuous reply of Jesus, in which he styled Herod "that fox," put an end to further attempts at intimidation. The notions of the Galilean Tetrarch concerning the Galilean Prophet seem to have changed from time to time. Herod had once regarded Jesus with feelings of superstitious dread and awe, as the risen Baptist. But these apprehensions had now partially passed away, and he had come to look upon the Christ as a clever impostor whose claims to kingship and Messiahship were mere vulgar dreams. For three years, Galilee had been ringing with the fame of the Miracle-worker; but Herod had never seen his famous subject. Now was his chance. And he anticipated a rare occasion of magic and merriment. He doubtless regarded Jesus as a clever magician whose performance would make a rich and racy programme for an hour's amusement of his court. This was no doubt his dominant feeling regarding the Nazarene. But it is nevertheless very probable that his Idumæan cowardice and superstition still conjured images of a drunken debauch, the dance of death, and the bloody head; and connected them with the strange man now before him. No doubt he felt highly pleased and gratified to have Jesus sent to him. The petty and obsequious vassal king was caught in Pilate's snare of flattery. The sending of a noted prisoner to his judgment seat by a Roman procurator was no ordinary compliment. But Herod was at once too serious and too frivolous to assume jurisdiction of any charges against this prisoner, who had offended both the religious and secular powers of Palestine. To condemn Jesus would be to incur the ill will and resentment of his many followers in his own province of Galilee. Besides, he had already suffered keenly from dread and apprehension, caused by the association of the names of John and Jesus, and he had learned that from the blood of one murdered prophet would spring the message and mission of another still more powerful and majestic. He was, therefore, unwilling to embroil himself and his dominions with the heavenly powers by condemning their earthly representatives. Again, though weak, crafty and vacillating, he still had enough of the cunning of the fox not to wish to excite the enmity of Cæsar by a false judgment upon a noted character whose devoted followers might, at any moment, send an embassy to Rome to make serious and successful charges to the Emperor. He afterwards lost his place as Tetrarch through the suspicions of Caligula, who received news from Galilee that Herod was conspiring against him.[89] The premonitions of that unhappy day probably now filled the mind of the Idumæan. On the other hand, Herod was too frivolous to conduct from beginning to end a solemn judicial proceeding. He evidently intended to ignore the pretensions of Jesus, and to convert the occasion of His coming into a festive hour in which languor and drowsiness would be banished from his court. He had heard much of the miracles of the prisoner in his presence. Rumor had wafted to his ears strange accounts of marvelous feats. One messenger had brought news that the Prophet of Nazareth had raised from the dead a man named Lazarus from Bethany, and also the son of the widow of Nain. Another had declared that the laws of nature suspended themselves on occasion at His behest; that when He walked out on the sea, He did not sink; and that He stilled the tempests with a mere motion of His hand. Still another reported that the mighty magician could take mud from the pool and restore sight; that a woman, ill for many months, need only touch the hem of His garment to be made whole again; and that if He but touched the flesh of a leper, it would become as tender and beautiful as that of a new-born babe. These reports had doubtless been received by Herod with sneers and mocking. But he gathered from them that Jesus was a clever juggler whose powers of entertainment were very fine; and this was sufficient for him and his court. "Then he questioned with him in many words; but he answered him nothing."[90] Herod thus opened the examination of Jesus by interrogating Him at length. The Master treated his insolent questions with contemptuous scorn and withering silence. No doubt this conduct of the lowly Nazarene greatly surprised and nettled the supercilious Idumæan. He had imagined that Jesus would be delighted to give an exhibition of His skill amidst royal surroundings. He could not conceive that a peasant would observe the contempt of silence in the presence of a prince. He found it difficult, therefore, to explain this silence. He probably mistook it for stupidity, and construed it to mean that the pretensions of Jesus were fraudulent. He doubtless believed that his captive would not work a miracle because He could not; and that in His failure to do so were exploded His claims to kingship and Messiahship. At all events, he was evidently deeply perplexed; and this perplexity of the Tetrarch, in its turn, only served to anger the accusing priests who stood by. "And the chief priests and scribes stood and vehemently accused him."[91] This verse from St. Luke clearly reveals the difference in the temper and purposes of the Sanhedrists on the one hand, and of Herod on the other. The latter merely intended to make of the case of Jesus a farcical proceeding in which the jugglery of the prisoner would break the monotony of a day and banish all care during an idle hour. The priests, on the other hand, were desperately bent upon a serious outcome of the affair, as the words "vehemently accused" suggest. In the face of their repeated accusations, Jesus continued to maintain a noble and majestic silence. Modern criticism has sought to analyze and to explain the behavior of Christ at the court of Herod. "How comes it," asks Strauss, "that Jesus, not only the Jesus without sin of the orthodox school, but also the Jesus who bowed to the constituted authorities, who says 'Give unto Cæsar that which is Cæsar's'--how comes it that he refuses the answer due to Herod?" The trouble with this question is that it falsely assumes that there was an "answer due to Herod." In the first place, it must be considered that Herod was not Cæsar. In the next place, we must remember that St. Luke, the sole Evangelist who records the event, does not explain the character of the questions asked by Herod. Strauss himself says that they "displayed simple curiosity." Admitting that Jesus acknowledged the jurisdiction of Herod, was He compelled to answer irrelevant and impertinent questions? We do not know what these questions were. But we have reason to believe that, coming from Herod, they were not such as Jesus was called upon to answer. It is very probable that the prisoner knew His legal rights; and that He did not believe that Herod, sitting at Jerusalem, a place without his province, was judicially empowered to examine Him. If He was not legally compelled to answer, we are not surprised that Jesus refused to do so as a matter of graciousness and accommodation; for we must not forget that the Man-God felt that He was being questioned by a vulgar animal of the most cunning type. But what is certain from the Scriptural context is that Herod felt chagrined and mortified at his failure to evoke from Jesus any response. He was enraged that his plans had been foiled by one of his own subjects, a simple Galilean peasant. To show his resentment, he then resorted to mockery and abuse. "And Herod with his men of war set him at nought, and mocked him, and arrayed him in a gorgeous robe, and sent him again to Pilate."[92] We are not informed by St. Luke what special charge the priests brought against Jesus at the judgment seat of Herod. He simply says that they "stood and vehemently accused him." But we are justified in inferring that they repeated substantially the same accusations which had been made before Pilate, that He had claimed to be Christ a King. This conclusion best explains the mockery which they sought to heap upon Him; for in ancient times, when men became candidates for office, they put on white gowns to notify the people of their candidacy. Again, Tacitus assures us that white garments were the peculiar dress of illustrious persons; and that the tribunes and consuls wore them when marching before the eagles of the legions into battle.[93] The meaning of the mockery of Herod was simply this: Behold O Pilate, the illustrious candidate for the kingship of the Jews! Behold the imperial gown of the royal peasant pretender! The appearance before Herod resulted only in the humiliation of Jesus and the reconciliation of Pilate and Herod. "And the same day Pilate and Herod were made friends together: for before they were at enmity between themselves."[94] CHAPTER X JESUS AGAIN BEFORE PILATE The sending of Jesus to Herod had not ended the case; and Pilate was undoubtedly very bitterly disappointed. He had hoped that the Galilean Tetrarch would assume complete jurisdiction and dispose finally of the matter. On the contrary, Herod simply mocked and brutalized the prisoner and had him sent back to Pilate. The Roman construed the action of the Idumæan to mean an acquittal, and he so stated to the Jews. "And Pilate, when he had called together the chief priests and the rulers and the people, Said unto them, Ye have brought this man unto me, as one that perverteth the people: and, behold, I, having examined him before you, have found no fault in this man touching those things whereof ye accuse him: No, nor yet Herod: for I sent you to him; and, lo, nothing worthy of death is done unto him. I will therefore chastise him, and release him."[95] The proposal to scourge the prisoner was the second of those criminal and cowardly subterfuges through which Pilate sought at once to satisfy his conscience and the demands of the mob. The chastisement was to be a sop to the rage of the rabble, a sort of salve to the wounded pride of the priests who were disappointed that no sentence of death had been imposed. The release was intended as a tribute to justice, as a soothing balm and an atoning sacrifice to his own outraged sense of justice. The injustice of this monstrous proposal was not merely contemptible, it was execrable. If Jesus was guilty, He should have been punished; if innocent, he should have been set free and protected from the assaults of the Jews. The offer of scourging first and then the release of the prisoner was indignantly rejected by the rabble. In his desperation, Pilate thought of another loophole of escape. The Evangelists tell us that it was a custom upon Passover day to release to the people any single prisoner that they desired. St. Luke asserts that the governor was under an obligation to do so.[96] Whether this custom was of Roman or Hebrew origin is not certainly known. Many New Testament interpreters have seen in the custom a symbol of the liberty and deliverance realized by Israel in its passage from Egypt at the time of the first great Passover. Others have traced this custom to the Roman practice of releasing a slave at the Lectisternia, or banquets to the gods.[97] Aside from its origin, it is interesting as an illustration of a universal principle in enlightened jurisprudence of lodging somewhere, usually with the chief executive of a race or nation, a power of pardon which serves as an extinction of the penal sanction. This merciful principle is a pathetic acknowledgment of the weakness and imperfection of all human schemes of justice. Pilate resolved to escape from his confusion and embarrassment by delivering Jesus to the people, who happened to appear in great numbers at the very moment when Christ returned from Herod. The multitude had come to demand the usual Passover deliverance of a prisoner. The arrival of the crowd of disinterested strangers was inopportune for the priests and elders who were clamoring for the life of the prisoner in their midst. They marked with keen discernment the resolution of the governor to release Jesus. They were equal to the emergency, and began to whisper among the crowd that Barabbas should be asked. "And they had then a notable prisoner, called Barabbas. Therefore when they were gathered together, Pilate said unto them, Whom will ye that I release unto you? Barabbas, or Jesus which is called Christ? For he knew that for envy they had delivered him."[98] Pilate believed that the newly arrived multitude would be free from the envy of the priests, and that they would be satisfied with Jesus whom they had, a few days before, welcomed into Jerusalem with shouts of joy. When they demanded Barabbas, he still believed that if he offered them the alternative choice of a robber and a prophet, they would choose the latter. "But the chief priests and elders persuaded the multitude that they should ask Barabbas, and destroy Jesus. The governor answered and said unto them, Whether of the twain will ye that I release unto you? They said, Barabbas. Pilate saith unto them, What shall I do then with Jesus which is called the Christ? They all say unto him, Let him be crucified."[99] "Barabbas, or Jesus which is called the Christ?" Such was the alternative offered by a Roman governor to a Jewish mob. Barabbas was a murderer and a robber. Jesus was the sinless Son of God. An erring race wandering in the darkness of sin and perpetually tasting the bitterness of life beneath the sun, preferred a criminal to a prophet. And to the ghastliness of the choice was added a touch of the irony of fate. The names of both the prisoners were in signification the same. Barabbas was also called Jesus. And Jesus Barabbas meant Jesus the Son of the Father. This frightful coincidence was so repugnant to the Gospel writers that they are generally silent upon it. In this connection, Strauss remarks: "According to one reading, the man's complete name was [Greek: hiêsous barabbas], which fact is noted only because Olshausen considers it noteworthy. Barabbas signifies 'son of the father,' and consequently Olshausen exclaims: 'All that was essential to the Redeemer appears ridiculous in the assassin!' and he deems applicable the verse: '_Ludit in humanis divina potentia rebus._' We can see nothing in Olshausen's remark but a _ludus humanæ impotentiæ_."[100] Amidst the tumult provoked by the angry passions of the mob, a messenger arrived from his wife bearing news that filled the soul of Pilate with superstitious dread. Claudia had had a dream of strange and ill-boding character. "When he was set down on the judgment seat, his wife sent unto him, saying, Have thou nothing to do with that just man: For I have suffered many things this day in a dream because of him."[101] This dream of Pilate's wife is nothing strange. Profane history mentions many similar ones. Calpurnia, Cæsar's wife, forewarned him in a dream not to go to the senate house; and the greatest of the Romans fell beneath the daggers of Casca and Brutus, because he failed to heed the admonition of his wife. In the apocryphal report of Pilate to the emperor Tiberius of the facts of the crucifixion, the words of warning sent by Claudia are given: "Beware said she to me, beware and touch not that man, for he is holy. Last night I saw him in a vision. He was walking on the waters. He was flying on the wings of the winds. He spoke to the tempest and to the fishes of the lake; all were obedient to him. Behold! the torrent in Mount Kedron flows with blood, the statues of Cæsar are filled with the filth of Gemoniæ, the columns of the Interium have given away and the sun is veiled in mourning like a vestal in the tomb. O, Pilate, evil awaits thee if thou wilt not listen to the prayer of thy wife. Dread the curse of the Roman Senate, dread the powers of Cæsar." This noble and lofty language, this tender and pathetic speech, may appear strange to those who remember the hereditary stigma of the woman. If this dream was sent from heaven, the recollection is forced upon us that the medium of its communication was the illegitimate child of a lewd woman. But then her character was probably not worse than that of Mary Magdalene, who was very dear to the Master and has been canonized not only by the church, but by the reverence of the world. It is certain, however, that the dream of Claudia had no determining effect upon the conduct of Pilate. Resolution and irresolution alternately controlled him. Fear and superstition were uppermost in both mind and heart. The Jews beheld with anxious and discerning glance the manifestation of the deep anguish of his soul. They feared that the governor was about to pronounce a final judgment of acquittal. Exhibiting fierce faces and frenzied feelings, they moved closer to him and exclaimed: "We have a law, and by our law he ought to die, because he made himself the Son of God."[102] Despairing of convicting Jesus on a political charge, they deliberately revived a religious one, and presented to Pilate substantially the same accusation upon which they had tried the prisoner before their own tribunal. "He made himself the Son of God!" These words filled Pilate's mind with a strange and awful meaning. In the mythology and ancient annals of his race, there were many legends of the sons of the gods who walked the earth in human form and guise. They were thus indistinguishable from mortal men. It was dangerous to meet them; for to offend them was to provoke the wrath of the gods, their sires. These reflections, born of superstition, now swept through Pilate's mind with terrific force; and the cries of the mob, "He made himself the Son of God," called from out the deep recesses of his memory the half-forgotten, half-remembered stories of his childhood. Could not Jesus, reasoned Pilate, be the son of the Hebrew Jehovah as Hercules was the son of Jupiter? Filled with superstitious dread and trembling with emotion, Pilate called Jesus inside the Temple a second time; and, looking with renewed awe and wonder, asked: "Whence art thou?"[103] But Jesus answered him nothing. Pilate came forth from the judgment hall a second time determined to release the prisoner; but the Jews, marking his decision, began to cry out: "Away with him, away with him, crucify him!"[104] Maddened by the relentless importunity of the mob, Pilate replied scornfully and mockingly: "Shall I crucify your king?" The cringing, hypocritical priests shouted back their answer: "We have no king but Cæsar."[105] And on the kingly idea of loyalty to Roman sovereignty they framed their last menace and accusation. From the quiver of their wrath they drew the last arrow of spite and hate, and fired it straight at the heart of Jesus through the hands of Pilate: "If thou let this man go, thou art not Cæsar's friend: whosoever maketh himself a king speaketh against Cæsar."[106] This last maneuver of the mob sealed the doom of the Christ. It teaches also most clearly that Pilate was no match for the Jews when their religious prejudices were aroused and they were bent on accomplishing their desires. They knew Pilate and he knew them. They had been together full six years. He had been compelled to yield to them in the matter of the standards and the eagles. The sacred Corban funds had been appropriated only after blood had been shed in the streets of Jerusalem. The gilt shields of Tiberius that he had placed in Herod's palace were taken down at the demands of the Jews and carried to the temple of Augustus at Cæsarea. And now the same fanatical rabble was before him demanding the blood of the Nazarene, and threatening to accuse him to Cæsar if he released the prisoner. The position of Pilate was painfully critical. He afterwards lost his procuratorship at the instance of accusing Jews. The shadow of that distant day now fell like a curse across his pathway. Nothing was so terrifying to a Roman governor as to have the people send a complaining embassy to Rome. It was especially dangerous at this time. The imperial throne was filled by a morbid and suspicious tyrant who needed but a pretext to depose the governor of any province who silently acquiesced in traitorous pretensions to kingship. Pilate trembled at these reflections. His feelings of self-preservation suggested immediate surrender to the Jews. But his innate sense of justice, which was woven in the very fiber of his Roman nature, recoiled at the thought of Roman sanction of judicial murder. He resolved, therefore, to propitiate and temporize. The frenzied rabble continued to cry: "Crucify him! Crucify him!" Three times, in reply, Conscience sent to Pilate's trembling lips the searching question: "Why, what evil hath he done?" "Crucify him! Crucify him!" came back from the infuriated mob. Pilate finally resolved to do their bidding and obey their will. But he seems to have secretly cherished the hope that scourging, which was the usual preliminary to crucifixion, might be made to satisfy the mob. But this hope was soon dispelled; and he found himself compelled to yield completely to their wishes by delivering the prisoner to be crucified. Before this final step, however, which was an insult to the true courage of the soul and an outrage upon all the charities of the heart, he resolved to apply a soothing salve to wounded conscience. He resolved to perform a ceremonial cleansing act. Calling for a basin of water, he washed his hands before the multitude, saying: "I am innocent of the blood of this just person: see ye to it."[107] This was a simple, impressive, theatrical act; but little, mean, contemptible, cowardly. He washed his hands when he should have used them. He should have used them as Brutus or Gracchus or Pompeius Magnus would have done, in pointing his legion to the field of duty and of glory. He should have used them as Bonaparte did when he put down the mob in the streets of Paris. But he was too craven and cowardly; and herein is to be found the true meaning of the character and conduct of Pilate. He believed that Jesus was innocent; and that the accusations against Him were inspired by the envy of His countrymen. He had declared to the Jews in an emphatic verdict of acquittal that he found in Him no fault at all. And yet this very sentence, "I find in him no fault at all," was the beginning of that course of cowardly and criminal vacillation which finally sent Jesus to the cross. "Yet was this utterance," says Innes, "as it turned out, only the first step in that downward course of weakness the world knows so well: a course which, beginning with indecision and complaisance, passed through all the phases of alternate bluster and subserviency; persuasion, evasion, protest, and compromise; superstitious dread, conscientious reluctance, cautious duplicity, and sheer moral cowardice at last; until this Roman remains photographed forever as the perfect feature of the unjust judge, deciding 'against his better knowledge, not deceived.'" "Then released he Barabbas unto them: and when he had scourged Jesus, he delivered him to be crucified. Then the soldiers of the governor took Jesus into the common hall, and gathered unto him the whole band of soldiers. And they stripped him, and put on him a scarlet robe. And when they had platted a crown of thorns, they put it upon his head, and a reed in his right hand: And they bowed the knee before him, and mocked him, saying, Hail, King of the Jews! And they spit upon him, and took the reed, and smote him on the head. And after that they had mocked him, they took the robe off from him, and put his own raiment on him, and led him away to crucify him."[108] Thus ended the most memorable act of injustice recorded in history. At every stage of the trial, whether before Caiaphas or Pilate, the prisoner conducted Himself with that commanding dignity and majesty so well worthy of His origin, mission, and destiny. His sublime deportment at times caused His judges to marvel greatly. And through it all, He stood alone. His friends and followers had deserted Him in His hour of greatest need. Single-handed and unaided, the Galilean peasant had bared His breast and brow to the combined authority, to the insults and outrages, of both Jerusalem and Rome. "Not a single discordant voice was raised amidst the tumultuous clamour: not a word of protest disturbed the mighty concord of anger and reviling; not the faintest echo of the late hosannas, which had wrung with wonder, fervour, and devotion, and which had surrounded and exalted to the highest pitch of triumph the bearer of good tidings on his entry into the Holy City. Where were the throngs of the hopeful and believing, who had followed His beckoning as a finger pointing toward the breaking dawn of truth and regeneration? Where were they, what thinking and why silent? The bands at the humble and poor, of the afflicted and outcast who had entrusted to His controlling grace the salvation of soul and body--where were they, what thinking and why silent? The troops of women and youths, who had drawn fresh strength from the spell of a glance or a word from the Father of all that liveth--where were they, what thinking and why silent? And the multitudes of disciples and enthusiasts who had scattered sweet-scented boughs and joyous utterances along the road to Sion, blessing Him that came in the name of the Lord--where were they, what thinking and why silent? Not a remembrance, not a sign, not a word of the great glory so lately His. Jesus was alone." [Illustration: CHRIST LEAVING THE PRÆTORIUM (DORÉ)] CHAPTER XI LEGAL ANALYSIS AND SUMMARY OF THE ROMAN TRIAL OF JESUS In the preceding pages of this volume we have considered the elements of both Law and Fact as related to the Roman trial of Jesus. Involved in this consideration were the powers and duties of Pilate as procurator of Judea and as presiding judge at the trial; general principles of Roman provincial administration at the time of Christ; the legal and political status of the subject Jew in his relationship to the conquering Roman; the exact requirements of criminal procedure in Roman capital trials at Rome and in the provinces at the date of the crucifixion; the Roman law applicable to the trial of Jesus; and the facts of said trial before Pilate and Herod. We are now in a position to analyze the case from the view point of the juristic agreement or nonagreement of Law and Fact; and to determine by a process of judicial dissection and re-formation, the presence or absence of essential legal elements in the proceedings. We have learned what should have been done by Pilate acting as a Roman judge in a criminal matter involving the life of a prisoner. We have also ascertained what he actually did. We are thus enabled to compare the requirements with the actualities of the case; and to ascertain the resemblances in the proceedings against Jesus to a legally conducted trial under Roman law. But, in making this summary and analysis, a most important consideration must be constantly held in mind: that, in matters of review on appeal, errors will not be presumed; that is, errors will not be considered that do not appear affirmatively upon the record. The law will rather presume and the court will assume that what should have been done, was done. In conformity with this principle, the presumption must be indulged that Pilate acted in strict obedience to the requirements of Roman law in trying Jesus, unless the Gospels of the New Testament, which constitute the record in the case, either affirmatively or by reasonable inference, disclose the absence of such obedience. A failure to note this presumption and to keep this principle in mind, has caused many writers upon this subject to make erroneous statements concerning the merits and legal aspects of the trial of Christ. Laymen frequently assert the essential principle of this presumption without seeming to be aware of it. Both Keim and Geikie declare that assessors or assistants were associated with Pilate in the trial of Jesus. The Gospel records nowhere even intimate such a thing; and no other original records are in existence to furnish such information. And yet one of the most celebrated of the biblical critics, Dr. Theodor Keim, writing on the trial of Christ by Pilate, says: "Beside him, upon benches, were the council or the assessors of the court, sub-officials, friends, Roman citizens, whose presence could not be dispensed with, and who were not wanting to the procurators of Judea, although our reports do not mention them."[109] To the same effect, Dr. Cunningham Geikie thus writes: "The assessors of the court--Roman citizens--who acted as nominal members of the judicial bench, sit beside Pilate--for Roman law required their presence."[110] These statements of the renowned writers just quoted are justified not only on the ground of logical historical inference, but also on the principle of actual legal presumption. The closest scrutiny of the New Testament narratives nowhere discovers even an intimation that a bench of judges helped Pilate to conduct the trial of Jesus. And yet, as Geikie says, "Roman law required their presence," and the legal presumption is that they were in and about the Prætorium ready to lend assistance, and that they actually took part in the proceedings. This inference is strengthened by the fact that Pilate, after he had learned the nature of the accusation against Jesus, called Him into the palace to examine Him. Why did Pilate do this? Why did he not examine the prisoner in the presence of His accusers in the open air? Geikie tells us that there was a judgment hall in the palace in which trials were usually conducted.[111] Is it not possible, nay probable, that the assessors and Pilate were assembled at an early hour in this hall to hear the usual criminal charges of the day, or, perhaps, to try the accusation against Jesus, of whose appearance before them they had been previously notified; and that, when the governor heard that the religious scruples of the Jews would not permit them to enter the judgment hall during the Passover feast, he went out alone to hear the accusation against the prisoner; and that he then returned with the accused into the hall where the bench of judges were awaiting him, to lay before them the charges and to further examine the case? It is admitted that this theory and the statement of Geikie that there was a hall in the palace where trials were generally held, are seemingly refuted by the fact that Roman trials were almost always conducted in the open air. But this was not invariably true; and the case of Pilate and his court might have been an exception. It has been sought to lay particular stress upon the doctrine of legal presumption that what should have been done, was done, unless the record affirmatively negatives the fact, because it is impossible to appreciate fully the legal aspects of the trial of Jesus, unless this doctrine is understood and kept constantly in view. A casual perusal of the New Testament narratives leaves the impression upon the mind of the reader that the proceedings against Jesus before Pilate were exceedingly irregular and lacking in all the essential elements of a regular trial. As a matter of fact, this impression may be grounded in absolute truth. It may be that the action of Pilate was arbitrary and devoid of all legal forms. This possibility is strengthened by the consideration that Jesus was not a Roman citizen and could not, therefore, demand the strict observance of forms of law in His trial. A Jewish provincial, when accused of crime, stood before a Roman governor with no other rights than the plea of justice as a defense against the summary exercise of absolute power. In other words, in the case of Jesus, Pilate was not bound to observe strictly rules of criminal procedure prescribed by Roman law. He could, if he saw fit, dispense with forms of law and dispose of the case either equitably or as his whims suggested. Nor was there a right of appeal in such a case, from the judgment of the procurator to the emperor at Rome. The decision of the governor against a provincial was final. The case of Paul before Felix and before Festus was entirely different. Paul was a Roman citizen and, as such, was entitled to all the rights involved in Roman citizenship, which included the privilege of an appeal to Cæsar against the judgment of a provincial officer; and he actually exercised this right.[112] It was incumbent, therefore, upon Roman officials to observe due forms of law in proceeding against him. And St. Luke, in Acts xxiv., indicates the almost exact precision and formality of a Roman trial, in the case of Paul. But the fact that Jesus was not a Roman citizen does not prove that due forms of law were not observed in His trial. It is hardly probable, as before observed, that despotism and caprice were tolerated at any time, in any part of the Roman world. And, besides, Roman history and jurisprudence are replete with illustrations of complete legal protection extended by Roman officials to the non-Roman citizens of subject states. It is, moreover, a legitimate and almost inevitable inference, drawn from the very nature of the Roman constitution and from the peculiar character of Roman judicial administration, that no human life belonging to a citizen or subject of Rome would be permitted to be taken without due process of law, either imperial or local. In forming an opinion as to the existence or non-existence of a regular trial of Jesus before Pilate, the meager details of the New Testament histories must not alone be relied upon. Nor must it be forgotten that the Gospel writers were not lawyers or court officers reporting a case to be reviewed on appeal. They were laymen writing a general account of a judicial transaction. And the omissions in their narratives are not to be considered as either discrepancies or falsehoods. They simply did not intend to tell everything about the trial of Jesus; and the fact that they do not record the successive steps of a regular trial does not mean that these steps were not observed. It is respectfully submitted that if a modern layman should write a newspaper or book account of one of the great criminal trials of this century, with no intention of making it a strictly judicial report, this account would not reveal the presence of more essential legal elements than are disclosed by the reports of the Evangelists of the proceedings against Jesus. The majority of writers on the subject express the opinion that the appearance of the Christ before the Roman governor was nothing more than a short hearing in which a few questions were asked and answers made; that the proceedings were exceedingly brief and informal; and that the emergencies of the case rather than forms of law guided the judgment and controlled the conduct of Pilate. As a layman, the author of these volumes would take the same view. But as a lawyer, treating the subject in a judicial manner, and bound by legal rules, regulations, and presumptions, in reviewing the merits of the case, he feels constrained to dissent from the prevalent opinion and to declare that the New Testament records, though meager in details, exhibit all the essential elements of an ordinary criminal trial, whether conducted in ancient or modern times. He further asserts that if the affirmative statements of the Evangelists that certain things were done be supplemented by the legal presumption that still other things were done because they should have been done, and because the record does not affirmatively declare that they were not done, an almost perfect judicial proceeding can be developed from the Gospel reports of the trial of Jesus before Pilate. These reports disclose the following essential elements of all ancient and modern criminal trials: 1. The Indictment, or _Nominis Delatio_. "What accusation bring ye against this man?" "And they began to accuse him, saying, We found this fellow perverting the nation, and forbidding to give tribute to Cæsar, saying that he himself is Christ a King." 2. The Examination, or _Interrogatio_. "Art thou the King of the Jews?" "Art thou a King then?" 3. The Defense, or _Excusatio_. "My kingdom is not of this world: if my kingdom were of this world then would my servants fight, that I should not be delivered to the Jews: but now is my kingdom not from hence.... To this end was I born and for this cause came I into the world, that I should bear witness unto the truth. Everyone that is of the truth heareth my voice." 4. The Acquittal, or _Absolutio_. "I find in him no fault at all." Here we have clearly presented the essential features of a criminal trial: the Indictment, the Examination of the charge, the Defense, and the Judgment of the tribunal, which, in this case, was an Acquittal. To demonstrate that Pilate intended to conduct the proceedings against Jesus seriously and judicially, at the beginning of the trial, let us briefly review the circumstances attendant upon the successive steps just enumerated. And to this end, let us proceed in order: 1. The Indictment, or _Nominis Delatio_. When Pilate had seated himself in the ivory curule chair of the procurator of Judea, at an early hour on Friday morning, the day of the crucifixion of Jesus, a Jerusalem mob, led by the Sanhedrin, confronted him with the prisoner. His first recorded words are: "What accusation bring ye against this man?" As before suggested, this question is very keenly indicative of the presence of the judge and of the beginning of a solemn judicial proceeding. Every word rings with Roman authority and strongly suggests administrative action. The accusing priests sought to evade this question by answering: "If he were not a malefactor, we would not have delivered him up unto thee." If Pilate had adopted the Jewish view of the merits of the matter, that his countersign was the only thing necessary to justify the final condemnation and punishment of the prisoner; or, if he had been indifferent to the legal aspects of the case, he would simply have granted their request at once, and would have ordered the prisoner to execution. But this was not the case; for we are assured that he insisted on knowing the nature of the accusation before he would assume jurisdiction of the affair. The mere information that He was a "malefactor" did not suffice. The conduct of the Roman judge clearly indicated that accusation was a more important element of Roman criminal procedure than was inquisition. To meet the emergency, the Jews were compelled, then, to make the formal charge, that: "We found this fellow perverting the nation, and forbidding to give tribute to Cæsar, saying that he himself is Christ a King." Here we have presented the indictment, the first step in a criminal proceeding; and it was presented not voluntarily, but because a Roman judge, acting judicially, demanded and forced its presentment. 2. The Examination, or _Interrogatio_. Not content with knowing the nature of the charges against the prisoner, Pilate insisted on finding out whether they were true or not. He accordingly took Jesus inside the palace and interrogated Him. With true judicial tact, he brushed aside the first two accusations as unimportant, and came with pointed directness to the material question: "Art thou the King of the Jews?" This interrogation bears the impress of a judicial inquiry, touching a matter involving the question of high treason, the charge against the prisoner. It clearly indicates a legal proceeding in progress. And when Jesus made reply that seemed to indicate guilt, the practiced ear of the Roman judge caught the suggestion of a criminal confession, and he asked impatiently: "Art thou a King then?" This question indicates seriousness and a resolution to get at the bottom of the matter with a view to a serious judicial determination of the affair. 3. The Defense, or _Excusatio_. In reply to the question of the judge, the prisoner answered: "My kingdom is not of this world." This language indicates that Jesus was conscious of the solemnity of the proceedings; and that He recognized the right of Pilate to interrogate Him judicially. His answer seemed to say: "I recognize your authority in matters of this life and this world. If my claims to kingship were temporal, I fully appreciate that they would be treasonable; and that, as the representative of Cæsar, you would be justified in delivering me to death. But my pretensions to royalty are spiritual, and this places the matter beyond your reach." The defense of Jesus was in the nature of what we call in modern pleading a Confession and Avoidance: "A plea which admits, in words or in effect, the truth of the matter contained in the Declaration; and alleges some new matter to avoid the effect of it, and shows that the plaintiff is, notwithstanding, not entitled to his action." It may be analyzed thus: Confession: Inside the palace, Pilate asked Jesus the question: "Art thou the King of the Jews?" According to St. Matthew, Jesus answered: "Thou sayest";[113] according to St. Mark: "Thou sayest it";[114] according to St. Luke: "Thou sayest it";[115] according to St. John: "Thou sayest that I am a king."[116] All these replies are identical in signification, and mean: Thou sayest it, because I am really a king. In other words, He simply confessed that He was a king. Then came His real defense. Avoidance: "My kingdom is not of this world: if my kingdom were of this world, then would my servants fight, that I should not be delivered to the Jews: but now is my kingdom not from hence.... To this end was I born and for this cause came I into the world, that I should bear witness of the truth. Everyone that is of the truth heareth my voice." After having confessed claims to kingship, and having thereby made Himself momentarily liable on the charge of high treason, He at once avoids the effect of the declaration by alleging new matter which exempted Him from the operation of the _crimen Læsæ Majestatis_. He boldly declares His kingship, but places His kingdom beyond the skies in the realm of truth and spirit. He asserts a bold antithesis between the Empire of Cæsar and the Kingdom of God. He cheerfully acknowledges the procuratorship of Pilate in the first, but fearlessly proclaims His own Messiahship in the second. 4. The Acquittal, or _Absolutio_. It is more than probable that Pilate's heathen soul mocked the heavenly claims of the lowly prisoner in his presence, but his keenly discerning Roman intellect marked at once the distinction between an earthly and a heavenly kingdom. He saw clearly that their boundaries nowhere conflicted, and that treasonable contact was impossible. He judged that Jesus was simply a gentle enthusiast whose pretensions were harmless. Accordingly, he went out to the mob and pronounced a verdict of "not guilty." Solemnly raising his hand, he proclaimed the sentence of acquittal: "I find in him no fault at all." This language is not the classical legal phraseology of a Roman verdict of acquittal. The Latin word for a single ballot was _absolvo_; the words of a collective judgment of a bench of judges was _non fecisse videtur_. The language of St. John, though that of a layman, is equally as effectual, if not so formal and judicial. More than any other feature of the case, the verdict of acquittal, "I find in him no fault at all," indicates the regularity and solemnity of a judicial proceeding. Standing alone, it would indicate the close of a regular trial in which a court having jurisdiction had sat in judgment upon the life or liberty of an alleged criminal. If to these essential elements of a trial which the Gospel records affirmatively disclose be added other necessary elements of a regular Roman trial which legal presumption supplies, because these records do not deny their existence, we have then in the proceedings against Jesus all the important features of Roman criminal procedure involving the question of life or death. That several essential elements are absent is evident from a reasonable construction of the statements of the Evangelists. That which most forcibly negatives the existence of a regular trial was the precipitancy with which the proceedings were conducted before Pilate. We have seen that ten days were allowed at Rome after the _nominis receptio_ to secure testimony and prepare the case before the beginning of the trial. This rule was certainly not observed at the trial of Jesus. But several irregularities which are apparent from a perusal of the Gospel histories may be explained from the fact that Jesus was not a Roman citizen and was not, therefore, entitled to a strict observance of Roman law in the proceedings against him. The foregoing analysis and summary apply only to the proceedings of the first appearance of Jesus before Pilate. It was at this time that the real Roman trial took place. All subsequent proceedings were irregular, tumultuous and absolutely illegal. The examination of Jesus by Herod cannot, strictly speaking, be called a trial. The usual explanation of the sending of the prisoner to Herod is that Pilate learned that He was a native and citizen of Galilee; and that, desiring to rid himself of an embarrassing subject, he determined to transfer the accused from the _forum apprehensionis_ to the _forum originis vel domicilii_. It has frequently been asserted that it was usual in Roman procedure to transfer a prisoner from the place of arrest to the place of his origin or residence. There seems to be no authority for this contention. It may or may not have been true as a general proposition. But it was certainly not true in the case of the transfer of Jesus to Herod. In the first place, when Pilate declared, "I find no fault in him at all," a verdict of acquittal was pronounced, and the case was ended. The proceedings had taken form of _res adjudicata_, and former jeopardy could have been pleaded in bar of further prosecution. It might be differently contended if Pilate had discovered that Jesus was from Galilee before the proceedings before him were closed. But it is clear from St. Luke, who alone records the occurrence of the sending of the prisoner to Herod, that the case was closed and the verdict of acquittal had been rendered before Pilate discovered the identity of the accused.[117] It was then too late to subject a prisoner to a second trial for the same offense. Rosadi denies emphatically that Herod had jurisdiction of the offense charged against Jesus. In this connection, he says: "His prosecutors insisted tenaciously upon His answering to a charge of _continuous_ sedition, as lawyers call it. This offence had been begun in Galilee and ended in Jerusalem--that is to say, in Judæa. Now it was a rule of Roman law, which the procurator of Rome could neither fail to recognize nor afford to neglect, that the competence of a court territorially constituted was determined either by the place in which the arrest was made, or by the place in which the offence was committed. Jesus had been arrested at the gates of Jerusalem; His alleged offence had been committed for the most part, and as far as all the final acts were concerned, in the city itself and in other localities of Judæa. In continuous offences competence was determined by the place in which the last acts going to constitute the offence had been committed. Thus no justification whatever existed for determining the court with regard to the prisoner's origin. But this investigation upon a point of Roman law is to all intents superfluous, because either Pilate, when he thought of Herod, intended to strip himself of his inalienable judicial power, and in this case he ought to have respected the jurisdiction and competence of the Grand Sanhedrin and not to have busied himself with a conflict as to cognizance which should only have been discussed and resolved by the Jewish judicial authorities; or else he had no intention of abdicating his power, and in this case he ought never to have raised the question of competence between himself, Governor of Judæa, and Herod, Regent of Galilee, but between himself and the Roman Vice-Governor of Galilee, his colleague, if there had been such an one. It is only between judges of the same judicial hierarchy that a dispute as to territorial competence can arise. Between magistrates of different States there can only exist a contrast of power and jurisdiction. The act of Pilate cannot then be interpreted as a scruple of a constitutional character. It is but a miserable escape for his irresolution, a mere endeavour to temporize." The second and final appearance of Jesus before Pilate bears little resemblance to a regular trial. The characteristic elements of an ordinary Roman criminal proceeding are almost wholly wanting. The pusillanimous cowardice of the procurator and the blind fury of the mob are the chief component parts. A sort of wild phantasmagoria sweeps through the multitude and circles round the tribunal of the governor. Pilate struggles with his conscience, and seeks safety in subterfuge. He begins by declaring to the assembled priests and elders that neither he nor Herod has found any fault in the man; and then, as a means of compromise and conciliation, makes the monstrous proposal that he will first scourge and then release the prisoner. This infamous proposal is rejected by the mob. The cowardly procurator then adopts another mean expedient as a way of escape. He offers to deliver Jesus to them as a Passover gift. Him they refuse and Barabbas, the robber, is demanded. Pilate's terror is intensified by superstitious dread, when the mob begins to cry: "He made himself the Son of God!" From out the anguish of his soul, the voice of Justice sends to his quivering lips the thrice-repeated question: "Why, what evil hath he done?" The mob continues to cry: "Crucify him! Crucify him!" And as a final assault upon his conscience and his courage, the hypocritical priests warn him that he must not release a pretender to kingship, for such a man is an enemy to Cæsar. The doom of the Nazarene is sealed by this last maneuver of the rabble. Then, as a propitiation to the great God of truth and justice, and as balm to his hurt and wounded conscience, he washes his hands in front of them and exclaims: "I am innocent of the blood of this just person: see ye to it." The crucifixion followed Pilate's final determination; and thus ended the most famous trial in the history of the world. It began with the arrest of Jesus in Gethsemane at midnight, and ended with His crucifixion on Golgotha on the afternoon of the same day. As we have seen, it was a double trial, conducted within the jurisdictions of the two most famous systems of jurisprudence known to mankind. In both trials, substantially the right issue was raised. Before the Sanhedrin, the prisoner was charged with blasphemy and convicted. Regarding Jesus as a mere man, a plain Jewish citizen, this judgment was "substantially right in point of law", but was unjust and outrageous because forms of criminal procedure which every Jewish prisoner was entitled to have observed, were completely ignored. The proceedings before Pilate, we have reason to believe, were conducted, in a general way, with due regard to forms of law. But the result was judicial murder, because the judge, after having acquitted Jesus, delivered Him to be crucified. "I find in him no fault at all" was the verdict of Pilate. But this just and righteous sentence was destroyed and obliterated by the following: "And they were instant with loud voices, requiring that he might be crucified. And the voices of them and of the chief priests prevailed. And Pilate gave sentence that it should be as they required."[118] A horrible travesty on justice, this! "_Absolvo_" and "_Ibis ad crucem_," in the same breath, were the final utterances of a Roman judge administering Roman law in the most memorable judicial transaction known to men. The treatment of this great theme would be incomplete and unsatisfactory unless reference were made to the peculiar views of some who believe that political rather than legal considerations should govern in determining the justice or the injustice of the proceedings against Jesus before Pilate. A certain class of critics insist on regarding the Roman governor in the light of an administrator rather than a judge, and contend that the justice of his conduct and the righteousness of his motives should be tested by principles of public policy rather than by strict legal rules. It is insisted by such persons that various considerations support this contention. It is pointed out that Pilate exercised the unlimited jurisdiction of the military _imperium_, and was not, therefore, strictly bound by legal rules; that Jesus was not a Roman citizen, and, for this reason, was not entitled to the strict observance of forms of law; and that the stubborn, rebellious and turbulent temper of the Jewish people required the strong hand of a military governor, enforcing political obedience by drastic measures, rather than the action of a judge punctiliously applying rules of law. These peculiar views subject the conduct of Pilate to the pressure of public necessity rather than to the test of private right, and insist that sympathy rather than censure should hold the scales in which his deeds are weighed. This view of the case was presented in the last generation by Sir James Fitz-James Stephen in a book of extraordinary strength and brilliancy entitled "Liberty, Equality, Fraternity." It was written in answer to John Stuart Mill, and is, without doubt, the most powerful assault in the English language on what men have been pleased to call in modern times "liberty of conscience." In his letters and essays, Mr. Mill, according to the interpretation of Mr. Stephen, "condemns absolutely all interference with the expression of opinion." When tried by this standard, the Athenian dicasts, who condemned Socrates; Marcus Aurelius, who persecuted the Christians; Pontius Pilate, who crucified Jesus; and Philip II, who sanctioned the tortures of the Spanish Inquisition, were simply violators of rights of personal opinion and of freedom of conscience. If you deny the right of liberty of conscience, Mr. Mill contends, you must not censure Marcus Aurelius and other persecutors of Christianity. On the contrary, you must approve such persecution; and you must go further, and find "a principle which would justify Pontius Pilate." This challenge was boldly accepted by Mr. Stephen, who says: "Was Pilate right in crucifying Christ? I reply, Pilate's paramount duty was to preserve the peace in Palestine, to form the best judgment he could as to the means required for that purpose, and to act upon it when it was formed. Therefore, if and in so far as he believed in good faith and on reasonable grounds that what he did was necessary for the preservation of the peace of Palestine, he was right. It was his duty to run the risk of being mistaken, notwithstanding Mr. Mill's principle as to liberty. He was in the position of a judge whose duty it is to try persons duly brought before him for trial at the risk of error."[119] This contention is founded upon the inexorable doctrine that what is, is right; that revolution, though righteous, must be nipped in the bud and destroyed; and that rights of private conscience must not be tolerated if they tend to disturb the peace of the community at large. The inevitable logic of the theory of Mr. Stephen is that the established order of things in Palestine under Roman rule was right, and that it was the duty of the Roman governor to regard all attempts at innovation or revolution in religion or government as a breach of the peace which was to be promptly suppressed by vigorous measures. There is undoubtedly a certain amount of truth in this contention, in so far as it implies that under a just and orderly plan of government, the rights of the commonwealth to peace and security are greater than the claims of the individual to liberty of conscience which conflict with and tend to destroy those rights. It is a truth, at once sovereign and fundamental, in both law and government, that the rights of the collective body are greater than those of any individual member; and that when the rights of the whole and those of a part of the body politic conflict, the rights of the part must yield and, if necessity requires it, be destroyed. Upon no other basis can the doctrine of majorities in politics and the right of Eminent Domain in law, rest. But the application of the principles involved in this theory must always be made with proper limitations, and with a due regard to the rights of minorities and individuals; else government becomes an engine of despotism instead of an expression of political freedom. A claim of privilege which every member of the community has a right to make, must be respected by the collective body; otherwise, a common right has been violated and destroyed. The complete recognition of this principle is imperative and fundamental, and is the corner stone of political freedom in free institutions among men. But the trouble with the contention of Mr. Stephen is that it proceeds upon a wrong hypothesis. He intimates that Pilate might have "believed in good faith that what he did was necessary for the preservation of the peace of Palestine." This is a purely gratuitous and unhistorical suggestion. The Gospel records nowhere justify such an assumption. The very opposite is taught by these sacred writings. It is true that Caiaphas contended that it was expedient that one man should die rather than that the whole nation should perish. But this was a Jewish, not a Roman opinion. The Evangelical narratives are unanimous in declaring that Pilate believed Jesus to be innocent and that "for envy" He had been accused by His countrymen. It is cheerfully conceded that occasions may present themselves, in the tumult and frenzy of revolution, when the responsible authorities of government may put to death a person whose intentions are innocent, but whose acts are incentives to riot and bloodshed. This may be done upon the principle of self-preservation, which is the first law of government as well as of nature. But no such necessity arose in the case of Jesus; and no such motives are ascribed by the Evangelists to Pilate. They very clearly inform us that the action of the Roman governor in delivering the prisoner to be crucified was prompted by private and not public considerations. He had no fears that Jesus would precipitate a revolution dangerous to the Roman state. He simply wished to quiet the mob and retain his position as procurator of Judea. The facts of history, then, do not support the contention of Mr. Stephen. Continuing, in another place, the same eminent writer says: "The point to which I wish to direct attention is that Pilate's duty was to maintain peace and order in Judea and to maintain the Roman power. It is surely impossible to contend seriously that it was his duty, or that it could be the duty of any one in his position, to recognize in the person brought to his judgment seat, I do not say God Incarnate, but the teacher and preacher of a higher form of morals and a more enduring form of social order than that of which he himself was the representative. To a man in Pilate's position the morals and the social order which he represents are for all practical purposes final and absolute standards. If, in order to evade the obvious inference from this, it is said that Pilate ought to have respected the principle of religious liberty as propounded by Mr. Mill, the answer is that if he had done so he would have run the risk of setting the whole province in a blaze. It is only in very modern times, and under the influence of modern sophisms, that belief and action have come to be so much separated in these parts of the world that the distinction between the temporal and spiritual department of affairs even appears to be tenable; but this is a point for future discussion. "If this should appear harsh, I would appeal again to Indian experience. Suppose that some great religious reformer--say, for instance, some one claiming to be the Guru of the Sikhs, or the Imam in whose advent many Mahommedans devoutly believe--were to make his appearance in the Punjab or the North-West Provinces. Suppose that there was good reason to believe--and nothing is more probable--that whatever might be the preacher's own personal intentions, his preaching was calculated to disturb the public peace and produce mutiny and rebellion: and suppose further (though the supposition is one which it is hardly possible to make even in imagination), that a British officer, instead of doing whatever might be necessary, or executing whatever orders he might receive, for the maintenance of British authority, were to consider whether he ought not to become a disciple of the Guru or Imam. What course would be taken towards him? He would be instantly dismissed with ignominy from the service which he would disgrace, and if he acted up to his convictions, and preferred his religion to his Queen and country, he would be hanged as a rebel and a traitor."[120] These theories and illustrations are not only plausible but entirely reasonable when viewed in the light of the facts which they assume to be true. But here again, we must insist that they do not harmonize with the actual facts of the case to which they are intended to apply. In the extract above quoted, three suppositions are suggested. The first one is immaterial. Let us analyze the other two in the light of the Gospel histories. The second supposition is this: "Suppose that there was good reason to believe--and nothing is more probable--that whatever might be the preacher's own personal intentions, his preaching was calculated to disturb the public peace and produce mutiny and rebellion." What passage of Scripture, it may be asked, justifies this parallel with the case of Jesus before Pilate? There is, in fact, absolutely none. The nearest approach to one is Matthew xxvii. 24: "When Pilate saw that he could prevail nothing, but that rather a tumult was made, he took water, and washed his hands before the multitude, saying, I am innocent of the blood of this just person: see ye to it." The "tumult" here referred to means nothing more than the manifestation of agitated feelings on the part of the mob, who were enraged at the prospect of an acquittal by the governor. It does not remotely refer to the danger of a popular rebellion which might endanger the security and safety of Rome. To admit this supposition would be to elevate the motives of Pilate in consenting to the crucifixion of Jesus to the level of solicitude for the welfare of his country. This would not be justified by the record, which clearly reveals that Pilate was moved by personal selfishness rather than by a sense of official duty. The third and last supposition above mentioned is this: "And suppose, further (though the supposition is one which it is hardly possible to make even in imagination), that a British officer, instead of doing whatever might be necessary, or executing whatever orders he might receive, for the maintenance of British authority, were to consider whether he ought not to become a disciple of the Guru or Imam." Here again, we may ask, what passage of Scripture supports this parallel of a Mohammedan Guru before a British officer with Jesus Christ before Pontius Pilate? Where is it anywhere stated, or by reasonable inference implied, that Pilate considered whether he ought not to become a disciple of Jesus? The celebrated English author has simply argued his case from a radically defective record of fact. On the other hand, let us draw what we conceive to be a true parallel. Let us take an illustration nearer home. Suppose that the Governor General of the Philippine Islands was clothed with authority of life and death as a judge in criminal matters pertaining to the affairs of those islands. Suppose that a Mohammedan preacher should appear somewhere in the archipelago where Mohammedans are numerous, and begin to proclaim a new religious faith which was opposed not only to the ordinary tenets of Islamism, but also to the Christian religion which is the dominant faith of the rulers of the Philippines. Suppose that the coreligionists of this Mohammedan prophet should seize him, bring him before the Governor General, and lodge against him a threefold charge: That he was stirring up sedition in the islands; that he had advised the Filipinos not to pay taxes due to the United States government; and that he had said and done things that were treasonable against the United States. Suppose that the Governor General, after personal examination, became satisfied that the Mohamammedan preacher was an innocent enthusiast, that the charges against him were false, and were due to the envy and hatred of his fellow-Mohammedans; that to quiet the passions, and satisfy the demands of the mob, he proposed to scourge him first and then release him; that, in the face of the vehement accusations of the rabble, he hesitated and vacillated for several hours; and that finally, when the Mohammedans threatened to send a complaint to President Roosevelt which might endanger his position, he ordered his innocent prisoner to death. Suppose this should happen beneath the American flag, what would be the judgment of the American people as to the merits of the proceedings? Would the Governor General retain his office by such a course of conduct? But let us view it in another light. Let us assume that the Governor General believed that the Mohammedan preacher was innocent and that his "personal intentions" were not remotely hostile or treasonable, but felt that his preaching might stir up rebellion dangerous to the power of the American government in the Philippines; and that it was his duty as the guardian of American honor and security, to put the native preacher to death; and this not to punish past criminal conduct, but to prevent future trouble by a timely execution. Suppose that the Governor General should do this while sitting as a judge, would it not be judicial murder? Suppose that he should do it while acting as an administrator, would it be less an assassination? Would it not stamp with indelible shame the administration that should sanction or tolerate it? Would the press of America not denounce the act as murder, declare that despotism reigned in our Eastern possessions, and demand the removal and punishment of the man who had disgraced his office and brought odium upon the administrative justice of his country? In closing the Roman trial of Jesus, let us repeat what we have already said: that the conduct of Pilate, when the prisoner was first brought before him, seems to have been marked by judicial regularity and solemnity; that the Roman procurator seems to have deported himself in a manner worthy of his office; that, in the beginning, he appears to have resolved to observe due forms of law in the proceedings, to the end that justice might be attained; and that, after a comparatively regular trial, he pronounced an absolute verdict of acquittal. Thus far the course of Pilate is manly and courageous. But with the return of the prisoner from Herod, unmanliness and cowardice begin. This last act of the great drama presents a pitiable spectacle of Roman degeneracy. A Roman governor of courtly origin, clothed with _imperium_, with a Prætorian Cohort at his command, and the military authority and resources of an empire at his back, cringes and crouches before a Jerusalem mob. The early Christian writers characterized Pilate with a single term ([Greek: anandria]), "unmanliness." They were right. This word is a summary, accurate and complete, of the character of the man. There is inherent in the highest and noblest of the human species a quality of courage which knows no fear; that prefers death and annihilation to dishonor and disgrace; that believes, with Cæsar, that it is better to die at once than to live always in fear of death; and, with Mahomet, that Paradise will be found in the shadow of the crossing of swords. This quality of courage is peculiar to no race of men and to no form of civilization. It has existed everywhere and at all times. It causes the spirit of man to tread the earth like a lion and to mount the air like an eagle. The ancient barbarians of Gaul believed that lightning was a menace from the skies; and amidst the very fury of the storm, from their great bows they sent arrows heavenward as a defiance to the gods. This quality of courage, which is natural to man, Pilate lacked. And when we think of his cowardly, cringing, crouching, vacillating conduct before a few fanatical priests in Jerusalem, another scene at another time comes up before us. The Tenth Legion rises in mutiny and defies Julius Cæsar. The mighty Roman summons his rebellious soldiers to the Field of Mars, reads to them the Roman riot act, and threatens to dismiss them not only from his favor but from Roman military service. The veterans of a hundred Gallic battlefields are subdued and conquered by the tone and glance of a single man; and with tearful eyes, beg forgiveness, and ask to be permitted to follow once again him and his eagles to the feast of victory and of death. Imagine, if you can, Cæsar in the place of Pilate. it is not difficult to conceive the fare of a vulgar rabble who persisted in annoying such a Roman by demanding the blood of an innocent man. But the cowardice and pusillanimity of the Roman governor are not properly illustrated by comparison with the courage and magnanimity of a Roman general. At the trial of Jesus, Pilate was acting in a judicial capacity, and was essentially a judge. His character, then, may be best understood by contrasting it with another judge in another age and country. His craven qualities will then be manifest. The greatest of the English jurists and judges was Sir Edward Coke. His legal genius was superb and his judicial labors prodigious. During the greater part of his professional career he slept only six hours, "and from three in the morning till nine at night he read or took notes of the cases tried in Westminster Hall with as little interruption as possible." He was great not only as a judge, but as an advocate as well. The consummate skill with which he argued the intricate cases of Lord Cromwell and Edward Shelley, brought him a practice never before equaled in England, and made him renowned as the greatest lawyer of the times. His erudition was profound, his powers of advocacy brilliant, his personal and judicial courage was magnificent. He not only repeatedly defied and ridiculed his colleagues on the bench, but more than once excited the wrath and braved the anger of the king. He fearlessly planted himself upon the ancient and inalienable rights of Englishmen; and, time and time again, interposed his robe at office between the privileges of the Commons and the aggressions of the Crown. He boldly declared that a royal proclamation could not make that an offense which was not an offense before. His unswerving independence was well illustrated in a case brought before him in 1616. The question at issue was the validity of a grant made by the king to the Bishop of Lichfield of a benefice to be held _in commendam_. King James, through his attorney-general, Bacon, commanded the chief justice to delay judgment till he himself had discussed the question with the judges. Bacon, at Coke's request, sent a letter containing the same command to each of the judges. Coke then obtained their signatures to a paper declaring that the instructions of the attorney-general were illegal, and that they were bound to proceed with the case. The king became very angry, summoned the judges before him in the council chamber, declared to them his kingly prerogative, and forbade them to discuss his royal privileges in ordinary arguments before their tribunal. Coke's colleagues fell upon their knees, cowed and terrified, before the royal bigot and despot, and begged his pardon for having expressed an opinion that had excited his displeasure. But Coke refused to yield, and, when asked if, in the future, he would delay a case at the king's order, he bravely replied that on all occasions and under any emergency, he would do nothing unworthy of himself or his office as an English citizen and judge. And rather than prostitute the high prerogatives of his court, he indignantly and contemptuously hurled his judicial mantle into the face of the Stuart king. How much grander and nobler was the conduct of Coke, the Englishman, than that of Pilate, the cowardly, pusillanimous Roman! Both were judges, both stood in the shadow of the majesty and menace of a throne, both were threatened with royal wrath, both held high judicial places under the governments of the most vast and glorious empires that this world has known. Coke preferred the dictates of his conscience to the decrees of his king; and his name remains forever enshrined in the minds and memories of men as the noblest type of a brave and righteous judge. For a miserable mess of Roman political pottage, Pilate forfeited his birthright to the most splendid and illustrious example of judicial integrity and courage in the history of the earth; and his name remains forever a hissing and reproach, as the worst specimen of the corrupt and cowardly judge that mankind has known. If it be objected that the position of Pilate was more painful and precarious than that of Coke, because the Roman was confronted by a wild and furious mob, reply must then be made that both the spirit and letter of Roman laws forbade surrender by Roman governors and administrators of the principles of justice to the blind passions of the multitude. This spirit was, in a later age, set forth in the laws of Justinian, when reproduction was made of the proclamations of the emperors Diocletian and Maximian, on the occasion of a public riot, that "the vain clamors of the people are not to be heeded, seeing that it is in no wise necessary to pay any attention to the cries of those desiring the acquittal of the guilty, or the condemnation of the innocent."[121] Pilate yielded to the demands of the mob when his country's laws forbade it. His intellect willed the execution of an innocent man when his conscience condemned it. "Such was the man whose cowardice, made manifest in the most supreme and memorable act of injustice the world has ever known, was destined to earn him eternal infamy. To him and to no others pointed the poet as 'colui Che fece per viltate il gran rifiuto;' to him, the prototype of that long train of those who were never quite alive, who vainly sought glory in this world, vainly dreaded infamy; who, ever wavering betwixt good and evil, washed their hands; who, like the neutral angels of the threshold, were neither faithful nor rebellious; who are equally despised by pity and justice; who render themselves 'A Dio spiacenti ed ai nemici sui.' And what man other than Pilate was ever placed so typically, in such accordance with the eyes of the poet, between the Son of God and His enemies, between justice and mercy, between right and wrong, between the Emperor and the Jews, and has refused either issue of the dilemma? "Was it Celestine, Diocletian, or Esau? But they of two things chose the one; and who knows but that they chose the better? A hermitage and a mess of pottage may under many aspects be better worth than the papacy renounced by Celestine, than the empire abdicated by Diocletian, or than the birthright bartered by Esau. But Pilate refused to choose, and his refusal was great--great enough to justify the antonomasia of Dante--and it was cowardly. He refused not only the great gift of free will in a case when a free choice was his absolute duty. When admitted, like the fallen angels, to the great choice between good and evil, he did not cleave for ever to the good, as did St. Michael, or to the evil, as did Lucifer, but he refused a power which for him was the fount of duty and which cost the life of a man and the right of an innocent." But was Pilate alone guilty of the crime of the crucifixion? Were the Jews wholly blameless? This raises the question: Who were the real crucifiers of the Christ, the Jews or the Romans? That the Jews were the instigators and the Romans the consummators of the crucifixion is evident from the Gospel narratives. The Jews made the complaint, and the Romans ordered and effected the arrest of the prisoner in Gethsemane. Having tried Him before their own tribunal, the Jews then led Jesus away to the Roman governor, and in the Prætorium accused Him and furnished evidence against Him. But the final act of crucifying was a Roman act. It is true that Jewish elements were present in the crucifixion of Jesus. The death draught offered Him on the cross suggests a humane provision of Hebrew law. This drink was usury administered among the Hebrews "so that the delinquent might lose clear consciousness through the ensuing intoxication." Again, the body of Jesus was removed from the cross and buried before it was night. This was in deference to an ancient custom of the Jews to bury criminals before sunset who had first been executed by stoning for the crime of blasphemy and had then been subjected to the indignity of being hung upon a tree, in conformity with a Mosaic ordinance contained in Deut. xxi. 22. But these two incidents exhaust the Jewish features of the crucifixion; and, besides, these elements were merely physical. The spiritual or moral features, involving turpitude and crime, are entirely different considerations from those that are simply historical. The question still arises: Who were the morally guilty parties? Who were the directly responsible agents of the crucifixion, the Jews or the Romans? Upon whom should the greater blame rest, if both were guilty? A passage from St. John seems to indicate that the Jews were the bearers of the greater sin. Replying to a question of Pilate concerning the procurator's power to crucify Him, "Jesus answered, Thou couldest have no power at all against me, except it were given thee from above; therefore he that delivered me unto thee hath the greater sin."[122] According to many commentators, Jesus referred to Caiaphas; according to others, He spoke of Judas as the person who had the greater sin. But in any case it is certain that He did not intend to involve the whole Jewish nation in the crime of His arrest and execution. The language of the scriptural context indicates a single person. Pilate, on the one hand, is made the silent instrument in the hands of God for the accomplishment of the designs of Heaven. Caiaphas, on the other hand, is probably referred to as the one having the greater sin, because, being the high priest of the Sanhedrin, he better understood the questions involved in the religious charge of blasphemy, and was, therefore, the greater sinner against the laws of God, in the matter of the injustice then being perpetrated. [Illustration: THE CRUCIFIXION (MUNKACSY)] Aside from the religious questions involved, and speaking in the light of history and law, our own judgment is that the real crucifiers of the Christ were the Romans, and that Pilate and his countrymen should bear the greater blame. It is true that the Jews were the instigators, the accusers. But Pilate was the judge whose authority was absolute. The Jews were powerless to inflict the death penalty. Pilate had the final disposition of all matters of life and death. In short, he could have prevented the crucifixion of Jesus. He did not do so; and upon him and his countrymen should rest the censure of Heaven and the execration of mankind. But, admitting that the priests of the Sanhedrin were equally guilty with Pilate and the Romans, does it follow that all Jews of the days of Jesus who were not participants in the crime against him, should suffer for the folly and criminal conduct of a mere fragment of a Sadducean sect? Is it not true that the Jewish people, as a race, were not parties to the condemnation and execution of the Christ? Is it not reasonable to suppose that the masses in Palestine were friendly to the democratic Reformer who was the friend of the poor, the lame, and the blind? Did not the reception of his miracles and his triumphal entry into Jerusalem indicate His popularity with the plain people? Is it not historically true that the great body of the Jewish population in Judea, in Galilee, in Samaria, and in Perea, was unfriendly to the members of the Sanhedrin, and regarded them as political renegades and religious delinquents? Is it not reasonably certain that a large majority of the countrymen of Jesus were his ardent well-wishers and sincerely regretted his untimely end? Is it possible to conceive that these friends and well-wishers were the inheritors of the curse of Heaven because of the crime of Golgotha? If not, is it rational to suppose that their innocent descendants have been the victims of this curse? The cruel and senseless notion of the implacable wrath of Deity has prevailed in all the ages as an explanation of the destruction of Jerusalem and the dispersion and persecution of the Jews. It is worse than nonsense to see in this event anything but the operation of vulgar physical forces of the most ordinary kind. The fall of Jerusalem was a most natural and consequential thing. It was not even an extraordinary historical occurrence, even in Jewish history. Titus did not so completely destroy Jerusalem as did Nebuchadnezzar before him. Razing cities to the ground was a customary Roman act, a form of pastime, a characteristic Roman proceeding in the case of stubborn and rebellious towns. Scipio razed Carthage and drove Carthaginians into the most remote corners of the earth. Was any Roman or Punic god interested in this event? Cæsar destroyed many Gallic cities and scattered Gauls throughout the world. Was any deity concerned about these things? Roman admiration was at times enkindled, but Roman clemency was never gained by deeds of valor directed against the arms of Rome. Neither Hannibal nor Mithradates, Vercingetorix nor Jugurtha, the grandest of her enemies, received any mercy at her hands. To oppose her will, was to invite destruction; and the sequel was a mere question of "the survival of the fittest." The most turbulent, rebellious and determined of all the imperial dependencies was the province of Judea. The Jews regarded the Romans as idolaters; and, instead of obeying them as masters, despised and defied them as barbarians. When this spirit became manifest and promised to be perpetual, the dignity of the Roman name as well as the safety of the Roman State, demanded the destruction of Jerusalem and the dispersion of the Jews. And destruction and dispersion followed as naturally as any profane effect follows any vulgar cause. The Irish, another splendid race, are being dispersed throughout the earth by the English domination of Ireland. Is anybody so keenly discerning as to see in Irish dispersion a divine or superhuman agency? Is it not, after all, the simple operation of the same brutal, physical forces that destroyed Carthage and Jerusalem, and, in a latter century, dismembered Poland? But the advocates of the divine wrath theory quote Scriptures and point to prophecy in support of their contention. Then Scriptures must be pitted against Scriptures. The last prayer of the Master on the cross must be made to repeal every earlier Scriptural prophecy or decree. "Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do," is the sublimest utterance in the literature of the world. It is the epitome of every Christian virtue and of all religious truth. This proclamation from the cross repealed the Mosaic law of hereditary sin; placed upon a personal basis responsibility for offenses against God and man; and served notice upon future generations that those who "know not what they do" are entitled to be spared and forgiven. To believe that God ignored the prayer of Christ on the cross; and that the centuries of persecution of the Jews which followed, were but the fulfillment of prophecy and fate, is to assail the Messiahship of Jesus and to question the goodness and mercy of Jehovah. Jesus knew the full meaning of His prayer and was serious unto death. To believe that the Father rejected the petition of the Son is to destroy the equality of the persons of the Trinity by investing one with the authority and power to review, revise, and reject the judgments and petitions of the others. If the Christian doctrine be true that Christ was God "manifest in the flesh"; if the doctrine of the Trinity be true that God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Ghost, are one and the same, eternal and inseparable, then the prayer of Jesus on the cross was not a petition, but a declaration that the malefactors of the crucifixion, who, in the blindness of ignorance, had helped to kill the Son of Man, would receive at the Last Day the benefits of the amnesty of the Father of mercy and forgiveness. If the perpetrators of the great injustice of the Sanhedrin and of the Prætorium are to be forgiven because they knew not what they did, is there any justice, human or divine, in persecuting their innocent descendants of all lands and ages? "When Sir Moses Montefiore was taunted by a political opponent with the memory of Calvary and described by him as one who sprang from the murderers who crucified the world's Redeemer, the next morning the Jewish philanthropist, whom Christendom has learned to honor, called upon his assailant and showed him the record of his ancestors which had been kept for two thousand years, and which showed that their home had been in Spain for two hundred years before Jesus of Nazareth was born." This half-humorous anecdote illustrates the utter absurdity and supreme injustice of connecting the modern Jew with ancient tragic history. The elemental forces of reason, logic, courage and sympathy, wrapped up and interwoven in every impulse and fiber of the human mind and heart, will be forever in rebellion against the monstrous doctrine of centuries of shame, exile and persecution visited upon an entire race, because of the sins and crimes of a handful of their progenitors who lived more than a thousand years before. But, if the visitation of the sins of the fathers upon the sons is to be maintained, and perpetuated as a form of divine, if not of human justice, then, why not, at least, be consistent in the application of the principle? Many philosophers and critics have detected a striking kinship between the teachings of Socrates and those of Jesus. A celebrated historian closes a chapter of the history of Greece with this sentence: "Thus perished the greatest and most original of the Grecian philosophers (Socrates), whose uninspired wisdom made the nearest approach to the divine morality of the Gospel."[123] The indictments against the philosopher of Athens and the Prophet of Nazareth were strikingly similar. Socrates was charged with corrupting Athenian youth; Jesus, with perverting the nation. Socrates was charged with treason against Athens; Jesus, with treason against Rome. Both were charged with blasphemy; the Athenian, with blasphemy of the Olympic gods; the Nazarene, with blaspheming Jehovah. Both sealed with their blood the faith that was in them. If the descendants of the crucifiers of the Christ are to be persecuted, brutalized, and exiled for the sins of the fathers, why not apply the same pitiless law of hereditary punishment to the descendants of the Athenian dicasts who administered hemlock to the greatest sage of antiquity? Why not persecute all the Greeks of the earth, wherever found, because of the injustice of the Areopagus? Coming back from antiquity and the Greeks to modern times in America, let us express the hope that all forms of race prejudice and persecution will soon cease forever. It is a truth well known of all intelligent men that racial prejudice against the Jew has not completely vanished from the minds and hearts of Gentiles; that political freedom in an enlightened age has not brought with it full religious tolerance and social recognition; that the Jew enjoys the freedom of the letter, but is still under the ban of the spirit. It is not necessary to go to Russia to prove this contention. In 1896, Adolf von Sonnenthal, the greatest of modern actors, who has covered the Austrian stage with glory, celebrated the fortieth anniversary of his entrance into theatrical life. The City Council of Vienna refused to extend him the freedom of the city, because he was a Jew. In 1906, Madame Bernhardt, the most marvelous living woman, while acting in Canada, was insulted by having spoiled eggs thrown upon the stage amidst shouts of "Down with the Jewess!" This outrage called forth a letter of apology, which appeared in public print, from Sir Wilfred Laurier, Prime Minister of the Dominion. In the summer of 1907, the sister of Senator Isidor Rayner, of Maryland, was refused admission to an Atlantic City hotel because she was a Jewess. Be it remembered that these several acts of prejudice and persecution did not happen in the Middle Ages, or under the government of the Romanoffs. Two of them occurred at the beginning of the twentieth century, beneath the flags of two of the freest and most civilized nations of the globe. What have Americans to say of the exclusion of a virtuous, refined, intelligent sister of a great American senator from an American hotel for no other reason than that she was a Jewess; that is, that she was of the same race with the Savior of mankind? There is certainly no place for religious intolerance and race prejudice beneath our flag. Fake and hypocritical our religion, if while professing faith in Jesus we continue to persecute those for whom He prayed! In vain did Washington, marching in Liberty's vanguard, "lead Freedom's eaglets to their feast"; in vain the proclamation of the Declaration of Independence and the adoption of the Constitution at Philadelphia, a hundred years ago; in vain the bonfires and orations of the nation's natal day, if our boasted liberties are to exist in theory, but not in practice, in fancy, but not in fact! Let no persecutor of the Jew lay the unction to his soul that he is justified by the tragedy of Golgotha; for he who persecutes in the name of religion is a spiritual barbarian, an intellectual savage. Let this same persecutor not make the mistake of supposing that the Jews are wholly responsible for the persecution that has been heaped upon them. Before he falls into the foolish blunder of such a supposition, let him ponder the testimony of several Gentile experts upon the subject. Let him read "The Scattered Nation," a brilliant lecture on the Jew by the late Zebulon Vance, of North Carolina, in which occurs this sentence: "If the Jew is a bad job, in all honesty we should contemplate him as the handiwork of our own civilization." Let him find Shakespearean confirmation of this statement in "The Merchant of Venice," Act III, Scene i. If the Jew-baiter objects that this is the imagination of a poet, let us then point him to the testimony of a great historian and statesman to prove to him that the Gentile is in great measure responsible for the causes that have produced Jewish persecution. In the British House of Commons, on April 17, 1873, a bill for the removal of the disabilities of the Jews was the subject of parliamentary discussion. Lord Macaulay took part in the debate and spoke as follows: The honorable member for Oldham tells us that the Jews are naturally a mean race, a money-getting race; that they are averse to all honorable callings; that they neither sow nor reap; that they have neither flocks nor herds; that usury is the only pursuit for which they are fit; that they are destitute of all elevated and amiable sentiments. Such, sir, has in every age been the reasoning of bigots. They never fail to plead in justification of persecution the vices which persecution has engendered. England has been legally a home to the Jews less than half a century, and we revile them because they do not feel for England more than a half patriotism. We treat them as slaves, and wonder that they do not regard us as brethren. We drive them to mean occupations, and then reproach them for not embracing honorable professions. We long forbade them to possess land, and we complain that they chiefly occupy themselves in trade. We shut them out from all the paths of ambition, and then we despise them for taking refuge in avarice. During many ages we have, in our dealings with them, abused our immense superiority of force, and then we are disgusted because they have recourse to that cunning which to the natural and universal defence of the weak against the violence of the strong. But were they always a mere money-changing, money-getting, money-hoarding race? Nobody knows better than my honorable friend, the member for the University of Oxford, that there is nothing in their national character which unfits them for the highest duties of citizens. He knows that, in the infancy of civilization, when our island was as savage as New Guinea, when letters and art were still unknown to Athens, when scarcely a thatched hut stood on what was afterwards the site of Rome, this contemned people had their fenced cities and cedar palaces, their splendid Temple, their fleets of merchant ships, their schools of sacred learning, their great statesmen and soldiers, their natural philosophers, their historians and their poets. What nation ever contended more manfully against overwhelming odds for its independence and religion? What nation ever, in its last agonies, gave such signal proofs of what may be accomplished by a brave despair? And if, in the course of many centuries, the depressed descendants of warriors and sages have degenerated from the qualities of their fathers; if, while excluded from the blessings of law and bowed down under the yoke of slavery, they have contracted some of the vices of outlaws and slaves, shall we consider this is a matter of reproach to them? Shall we not rather consider it as a matter of shame and remorse to ourselves? Let us do justice to them. Let us open to them the door of the House of Commons. Let us open to them every career in which ability and energy can be displayed. Till we have done this, let us not presume to say that there is no genius among the countrymen of Isaiah, no heroism among the descendants of the Maccabees. If the persecutor of the Jew is not moved by the eloquence of Macaulay or by the satire and sarcasm of Shakespeare, then let him call the roll of Hebrew great names and watch the mighty procession as it moves. Abraham among patriarchs; Moses among lawgivers; Isaiah and Jeremiah among prophets; Philo, Maimonides, Spinoza, and Mendelsohn among philosophers; Herschel, Sylvester, Jacobi, and Kronecker among mathematicians and astronomers; Josephus, Neander, Graetz, Palgrave, and Geiger among historians; Mendelssohn, Meyerbeer, Offenbach, Goldmark, Joachim, Rubinstein, and Strauss among musicians; Sonnenthal, Possart, Rachel, and Bernhardt among actors and actresses; Disraeli, Gambetta, Castelar, Lasker, Crémieux, and Benjamin among statesmen; Halevi and Heine among poets; Karl Marx and Samuel Gompers among labor leaders and political economists; the Rothschilds, Bleichrörders, Schiffs, and Seligmans among financiers; Auerbach and Nordau among novelists; Sir Moses Montefiore and Baron Hirsch among philanthropists! But there are no Cæsars, no Napoleons, no Shakespeares, no Aristotles among them, you say? Maybe so; but what of that? Admitting that this is true, is anything proved by the fact? These characters represented mountain peaks of intellect, and were the isolated products of different races and different centuries. It may be justly observed that, of their kind, no others were comparable to them. But if the "mountain-peak" theory is to govern as to the intellectuality of races, will it be seriously contended that any one of the last-mentioned characters was equal in either spiritual or intellectual grandeur to the Galilean peasant, Jesus of Nazareth? If colossal forms of intellect and soul be invoked, does not the Jew still lead the universe? Jesus was the most perfect product of Jewish spiritual creation, the most precious gem of human life. The most brilliant and civilized nations of the earth worship Him as God, "manifest in the flesh, justified by the Spirit, seen of angels, preached unto the Gentiles, believed on in the world, received up into glory."[124] Both skeptics and believers of all ages have alike pronounced His name with reverence and respect. Even the flippant, sarcastic soul of Voltaire was awed, softened and subdued by the sweetness of His life and the majesty of His character.[125] "If the life and death of Socrates are those of a sage," said Rousseau, "the life and death of Jesus are those of a God."[126] "Jesus of Nazareth," says Carlyle, "our divinest symbol! Higher has the human thought not yet reached. A symbol of quite perennial, infinite character, whose significance will ever demand to be anew inquired into, and anew made manifest."[127] "Jesus Christ," says Herder, "is in the noblest and most perfect sense, the realized ideal of humanity."[128] "He is," says Strauss, "the highest object we can possibly imagine with respect to religion, the Being without whose presence in the mind perfect piety is impossible."[129] "The Christ of the Gospels," says Renan, "is the most beautiful incarnation of God in the most beautiful of forms. His beauty is eternal; His reign will never end."[130] Max Nordau betrays secret Jewish pride in Jesus when he says: "Jesus is soul of our soul, even as he is flesh of our flesh. Who, then, could think of excluding him from the people of Israel? St. Peter will remain the only Jew who has said of the Son of David, 'I know not the man.' Putting aside the Messianic mission, this man is ours. He honors our race, and we claim him as we claim the Gospels--flowers of Jewish literature and only Jewish." "Is it a truth," asks Keim, "or is it nothing but words, when this virtuous God-allied human life is called the noblest blossom of a noble tree, the crown of the cedar of Israel? A full vigorous life in a barren time, a new building among ruins, an erect strong nature among broken ones, a Son of God among the godless and the God-forsaken, one who was joyous, hopeful, generous among those who were mourning and in despair, a freeman among slaves, a saint among sinners--by this contradiction to the facts of the time, by this gigantic exaltation above the depressed uniformity of the century, by this compensation for stagnation, retrogression, and the sickness of death in progress, health, force and color of eternal youth--finally, by the lofty uniqueness of what he achieved, of his purity, of his God-nearness--he produces, even with regard to endless new centuries that have _through him_ been saved from stagnation and retrogression, the impression of mysterious solitariness, superhuman miracle, divine creation."[131] "Between Him and whoever else in the world," said Napoleon at St. Helena, "there is no possible term of comparison."[132] Throughout Napoleonic literature two names constantly recur as exhibiting the Corsican's ideals of spiritual and intellectual perfection. These names are those of Jesus Christ and Julius Cæsar. Napoleon's stupendous genius and incomprehensible destiny formed the basis of a secret conviction within his soul that with Jesus and Cæsar displaced, he himself would be the grandest ornament of history. But in the mind of the emperor there was no element of equality or comparison between Jesus and Cæsar. The latter he regarded as the crown and consummation of Roman manhood, the most superb character of the ancient world. The former he believed to be divine. It was the custom of Napoleon while in exile at St. Helena to converse almost daily about the illustrious men of antiquity and to compare them with himself. On one occasion while talking upon his favorite theme with an officer, one of the companions of his exile, he suddenly stopped and asked: "But can you tell me who Jesus Christ was?" In reply, the officer candidly confessed that he had never thought much about the Nazarene. "Well, then," said Napoleon, "I will tell you." The illustrious captive then compared Jesus with the heroes of antiquity and finally with himself. The comparison demonstrated how paltry and contemptible was everything human when viewed in the light of the divine character and sublime achievements of the Man of Nazareth. "I think I understand somewhat of human nature," said Napoleon, "and I tell you all these were men, and I am a man, but not one is like Him; Jesus Christ was more than man. Alexander, Cæsar, Charlemagne, and myself founded great empires; but upon what did the creations of our genius depend? Upon force. Jesus alone founded His empire upon love, and to this very day millions would die for Him."[133] We have every reason to believe that the homage paid the character of Jesus by Napoleon was not merely the product of his brain, but was also the humble tribute of his heart. When the disasters of the Russian campaign broke upon his fortunes, when "the infantry of the snow and the cavalry of the wild blast scattered his legions like winter's withered leaves," the iron-hearted, granite-featured man who had "conquered the Alps and had mingled the eagles of France with the eagles of the crags," only laughed and joked. But, while contemplating the life and death of Jesus, he became serious, meditative and humble. And when he came to write his last will and testament, he made this sentence the opening paragraph: "I die in the Roman Catholic Apostolical religion, in the bosom of which I was born more than fifty years ago."[134] The Christianity of Napoleon has been questioned. It is respectfully submitted that only an ungenerous criticism will attribute hypocrisy to this final testimony of his religious faith. The imperial courage, the grandeur of character, and the loftiness of life of the greatest of the emperors negative completely the thought of insincerity in a declaration made at a time when every earthly inducement to misrepresentation had passed forever. But Jesus was not the Christ, the Savior of warrior-kings alone, in the hour of death. On the battlefield of Inkerman an humble soldier fell mortally wounded. He managed to crawl to his tent before he died. When found he was lying face downward with the open Bible beside him. His right hand was glued with his lifeblood to Chapter XI., Verse 25 of St. John. When the hand was lifted, these words, containing the ever-living promise of the Master, could be clearly traced: "I am the resurrection and the life: he that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live." PART II _GRÆCO-ROMAN PAGANISM_ [Illustration: JUPITER (ANTIQUE SCULPTURE)] CHAPTER I GRÆCO-ROMAN PAGANISM _Extent of the Roman Empire at the Time of Christ._--The policy of ancient Rome was to extend and hold her possessions by force of arms. She made demands; and if they were not complied with, she spurned the medium of diplomacy and appealed for arbitrament to the god of battles. Her achievements were the achievements of war. Her glories were the glories of combat. Her trophies were the treasures of conquered provinces and chained captives bowed in grief and shame. Her theory was that "might makes right"; and in vindication and support of this theory she imbued her youth with a martial spirit, trained them in the use of arms from childhood to manhood, and stationed her legions wherever she extended her empire. Thus, military discipline and the fortune of successful warfare formed the basis of the prosperity of Rome. At the period of which we write, her invincible legions had accomplished the conquest of the civilized earth. Britain, Gaul, Spain, Italy, Illyria, Greece, Asia Minor, Africa, Egypt, and the islands of the Mediterranean--six hundred thousand square leagues of the most fertile territory in the world--had been subdued to the Roman will and had become obedient to Roman decrees. "The empire of the Romans," says Gibbon, "filled the world, and when that empire fell into the hands of a single person, the world became a safe and dreary prison for his enemies. The slave of imperial despotism, whether he was compelled to drag his gilded chain in Rome and the Senate, or to wear out a life of exile on the barren rock of Seriphus, or on the frozen banks of the Danube, expected his fate in silent despair. To resist was fatal, and it was impossible to fly. On every side he was encompassed by a vast extent of sea and land, which he could never hope to traverse without being discovered, seized, and restored to his irritated master. Beyond the frontiers, his anxious view could discover nothing, except the ocean, inhospitable deserts, hostile tribes of barbarians, of fierce manners and unknown language, or dependent kings who would gladly purchase the emperor's protection by the sacrifice of an obnoxious fugitive. 'Wherever you are,' said Cicero to the exiled Marcellus, 'remember that you are equally within the power of the conqueror.'" In obedience to a universal law of development and growth, when the Roman empire had reached the limits of physical expansion, when Roman conquest was complete, when Roman laws and letters had reached approximate perfection, and when Roman civilization had attained its crown and consummation, Roman decline began. The birth of the empire marked the beginning of the end. It was then that the shades of night commenced to gather slowly upon the Roman world; and that the Roman ship of state began to move slowly but inevitably, upon a current of indescribable depravity and degeneracy, toward the abyss. The Roman giant bore upon his shoulders the treasures of a conquered world; and Bacchus-like, reeled, crowned and drunken, to his doom. No period of human history is so marked by lust and licentiousness as the history of Rome at the beginning of the Christian era. The Roman religion had fallen into contempt. The family instinct was dead, and the marital relation was a mockery and a shame. The humane spirit had vanished from Roman hearts, and slavery was the curse of every province of the empire. The destruction of infants and the gladiatorial games were mere epitomes of Roman brutality and degeneracy. Barbarity, corruption and dissoluteness pervaded every form of Roman life. A perfect picture of the depravity of the times about which we write may be had from a perusal of the Roman satirists, Tacitus and Juvenal. The ordinary Roman debauchee was not the sole victim of their wrath. They chiseled the hideous features of the Cæsars with a finer stroke than that employed by Phidias and Praxiteles in carving statues of the Olympic gods. The purpose of Part II of this volume is to give coloring and atmosphere to the picture of the trial and crucifixion of Jesus by describing: (1) The Græco-Roman religion; and (2) the Græco-Roman social life, during the century preceding and the century following the birth of the Savior. 1.--THE GRÆCO-ROMAN RELIGION _Origin and Multiplicity of the Roman Gods._--The Romans acquired their gods by inheritance, by importation, and by manufacture. The Roman race sprang from a union of Etruscans, Latins, and Sabines; and the gods of these different tribes, naturalized and adopted, were the first deities of Rome. Chief among them were Janus, Jupiter, Juno, and Minerva. Other early Roman deities were Sol, the Sun, and Luna the Moon, both of Sabine origin; Mater Matuta, Mother of Day; Divus Pater Tiberinus, or Father Tiber; Fontus, the god of fountains; Vesta, the goddess of the hearth; and the Lares and Penates, household gods. These primitive Italian divinities were at first mere abstractions, simple nature-powers; but later they were Hellenized and received plastic form. The Greeks and Romans had a common ancestry and the amalgamation of their religions was an easy matter. The successive steps in the process of blending the two forms of worship are historical. From Cumæ, one of the oldest Greek settlements in Italy, the famous Sibylline books found their way to Rome; and through these books the Greek gods and their worship established themselves in Italy. The date of the arrival of several of the Hellenic deities is well ascertained. The first temple to Apollo was vowed in the year 351 A.U.C. To check a lingering epidemic of pestilence and disease, the worship of Æsculapius was introduced from Epidaurus into Rome in the year 463. In 549, Cybele, the Idæan mother, was imported from Phrygia, in the shape of a black stone, and was worshiped at Rome by order of the Sibylline books. In various ways, the Hellenization of the Roman religion was accomplished. The Decemviri, to whom the consulting of the Sibylline books was intrusted, frequently interpreted them to mean that certain foreign gods should be invited at once to take up their residence in Rome. The introduction of Greek literature also resulted in the importation of Greek gods. The tragedies of Livius Andronicus and the comedies of Nævius, founded upon Greek legends of gods and heroes, were presented in Rome in the later years of the third century B.C. Fragments of Greek literature also began to make their way into the Capital about this time. Philosophers, rhetoricians, and grammarians flocked from Greece to Italy and brought with them the works of Homer, Hesiod and the Greek philosophers, whose writings were permeated with Greek mythology. Grecian sculpture was as potent as Grecian literature in transforming and Hellenizing the religion of Rome. The subjugation of the Greek colonies in the south of Italy and the conquests of Greek cities like Syracuse and Corinth in the East, brought together in Rome the masterpieces of the Greek sculptors. A determined effort was made from time to time by the patriotic Romans to destroy Hellenic influence and to preserve in their original purity early Roman forms of worship. But all attempts were futile. The average Roman citizen, though practical and unimaginative, was still enamored of the beautiful myths and exquisite statues of the Greek gods. And it was only by Hellenizing their own deities that they could bring themselves into touch and communion with the Hellenic spirit. The æsthetical and fascinating influence of the Greek language, literature and sculpture, was overwhelming. "At bottom, the Roman religion was based only on two ideas--the might of the gods who were friendly to Rome, and the power of the ceremonies over the gods. How could a religion, so poverty-stricken of thought, with its troops of phantom gods, beingless shadows and deified abstractions, remain unscathed and unaltered when it came in contact with the profusion of the Greek religion, with its circle of gods, so full of life, so thoroughly anthropomorphised, so deeply interwoven into everything human?"[135] Not only from Greece but from every conquered country, strange gods were brought into Italy and placed in the Roman pantheon. When a foreign city was besieged and captured, the Romans, after a preliminary ceremony, invited the native gods to leave their temples and go to Rome where, they were assured, they would have much grander altars and would receive a more enthusiastic worship. It was a religious belief of the ancient masters of the world that gods could be enticed from their allegiance and induced to emigrate. In their foreign wars, the Romans frequently kept the names of their own gods secret to prevent the enemy from bribing them. The gods at Rome increased in number just in proportion that the empire expanded. The admission of foreign territory brought with it the introduction of strange gods into the Roman worship. When the Romans needed a new god and could not find a foreign one that pleased them, they deliberately manufactured a special deity for the occasion. In the breaking up and multiplication of the god-idea, they excelled all the nations of antiquity. It was the duty of the pontiffs to manufacture a divinity whenever an emergency arose and one was needed. The god-casting business was a regular employment of the Decemviri and the Quindecemviri; and a perusal of the pages of Roman history reveals these god-makers actively engaged in their workshops making some new deity to meet some new development in Roman life. The extent of the polytheistic notions of the ancient Romans is almost inconceivable to the modern mind. Not only were the great forces of nature deified, but the simplest elements of time, of thought, and action. Ordinary mental abstractions were clothed with the attributes of gods. Mens (Mind), Pudicitia (Chastity), Pietas (Piety), Fides (Fidelity), Concordia (Concord), Virtus (Courage), Spes (Hope), and Voluptas (Pleasure), were all deities of the human soul, and were enthusiastically worshiped by the Romans. A single human action was frequently broken into parts each of which had a little god of its own. The beginning of a marriage had one deity and its conclusion, another. Cunina was the cradle-goddess of a child. Statilinus, Edusa, Potnia, Paventia, Fabelinus and Catius were other goddesses who presided over other phases of its infancy. Juventas was the goddess of its youth; and, in case of loss of parents, Orbona was the goddess that protected its orphanage. Any political development in the Roman state necessitated a new divinity to mark the change. In the early periods of their history, the Romans used cattle as a medium of exchange in buying and bartering. Pecunia was then the goddess of such exchange. But when, in later times, copper money came into use, a god called Æsculanus was created to preside over the finances; and when, still later, silver money began to be used, the god Argentarius was called into being to protect the coinage. This Argentarius was naturally the son of Æsculanus. Not only the beneficent but the malign forces of nature were deified. Pests, plagues, and tempests had their special divinities who were to be placated. "There were particular gods for every portion of a dwelling--the door, the threshold of the door, and even the hinges of the door. There was a special god for each different class--even the most menial and the most immoral; and a special divinity for those who were afflicted in a peculiar manner, such as the childless, the maimed or the blind. There was the god of the stable, and the goddess of the horses; there were gods for merchants, artists, poets and tillers of the soil. The gods must be invoked before the harvest could be reaped; and not even a tree could be felled in the forest without supplicating the unknown god who might inhabit it."[136] The extreme of the Roman divinity-making process was the deification of mere negative ideas. Tranquillitas Vacuna was the goddess of "doing nothing." Not only were special actions and peculiar ideas broken up and subdivided with an appropriate divinity for each part or subdivision, but the individual gods themselves were subdivided and multiplied. It is said that there were three hundred Jupiters in Rome. This means that Jupiter was worshiped under three hundred different forms. Jupiter Pluvius, Jupiter Fulgurator, Jupiter Tonans, Jupiter Fulminator, Jupiter Imbricitor, Jupiter Serenator, were only a few designations of the supreme deity of the Romans. It will thus be seen that polytheism was insatiable in its thirst for new and strange gods. When the god-casting business was once begun, there was no end to it. And when the Roman empire had reached its greatest expansion, and Roman public and private life had attained to complete development, the deities of the Roman religion were innumerable. No pantheon could hold them, and no Roman could remember the names of all. Temples of the gods were everywhere to be found throughout the empire; and where there were no altars or temples, certain trees, stones and rocks were decorated with garlands and worshiped as sacred places which the gods were supposed to frequent. Thus the Roman world became crowded with holy places, and the gods and goddesses became an innumerable host. Petronius makes a countrywoman from a district adjoining Rome declare that it was much easier to find a god in her neighborhood than a man. We shall see that the multiplicity of the gods was finally the cause of the decay and ruin of the Roman religion. _The Roman Priesthood._--The Roman priesthood was composed of several orders of pontiffs, augurs, keepers of the Sibylline books, Vestal virgins, epulos, salians, lupercals, etc. Fifteen pontiffs exercised supreme control in matters of religion. They were consecrated to the service of the gods; and all questions of doubtful religious interpretation were submitted to the judgment of their tribunal. Fifteen learned and experienced augurs observed the phenomena of nature and studied the flight of birds as a means of directing the actions of the state. Fifteen keepers of the Sibylline books read the pages of their treasures and from them divined coming events. Six Vestals, immaculate in their virginity, guarded the Roman sacred fire, and presided at the national hearthstone of the Roman race. Seven epulos conducted the solemn processions and regulated the religious ceremonies at the annual festivals of the gods. Fifteen flamens were consecrated to the service of separate deities. Those of Jupiter, Mars, and Quirinus were held in the highest esteem. The Flamen Dialis, or priest of Jupiter, was loaded down with religious obligations and restrictions. He was not permitted to take an oath, to ride, to have anything tied with knots on his person, to look at a prisoner, see armed men, or to touch a dog, a goat, or raw flesh, or yeast. He was not allowed to bathe in the open air; nor could he spend the night outside the city. He could resign his office only on the death of his wife. The Salians were priests of Mars, who, at festivals celebrated in honor of the war-god, danced in heavy armor, and sang martial hymns. _Roman Forms of Worship._--Roman worship was very elaborate and ceremonial. It consisted of sacrifices, vows, prayers, and festivals. With the exception of the ancient Hebrews, the Romans were the greatest formalists and ritualists of antiquity. Every act of Roman public and private life was supposed to be framed in accordance with the will of the gods. There was a formula of prayer adapted to every vicissitude of life. Cæsar never mounted his chariot, it is said, that he did not repeat a formula three times to avert dangers. A painful exactness in the use of words was required in the offering of a Roman prayer. A syllable left out or a word mispronounced, or the intervention of any disturbing cause of evil import, would destroy the merit of the formula. The Romans believed that the voice of prayer should not be interrupted by noises or bad omens. And that the sound of evil augury might not be heard at the moment of supplication, they were in the habit of covering their ears. Musical notes of favorable import were not objectionable, and frequently flutes were played while the prayer was being offered to chase away disturbing sounds. At other times, the priests had special assistants whose duty it was to maintain silence during the recital of the formula. But, if the ceremony was successful, if the language had been correctly pronounced, without the omission or addition of a word; if all disturbing causes and things of evil omen had been alienated from the services, then the granting of the prayer was assured, regardless of the motive or intention of the person praying. It should be remembered that piety and faith were not necessary to the efficacy of Roman prayer. Ceremonial precision, rather than purity of heart, was pleasing to the Roman gods. A peculiar element entered into the religions of both the ancient Romans and the ancient Hebrews. It was the principle of contract in an almost purely juristic sense. Both the Romans and the Hebrews believed that if the divine law was obeyed to the letter, their deities were under the strictest obligation to grant their petitions. Under the Roman form of worship, a peculiar act of supplication was performed by the suppliant who kissed his right hand, turned round in a circle by the right, and then seated himself upon the ground. This was done in obedience to one of the laws of Numa. The circular movement of the earth, it was thought, was symbolized by the turning round in a circle; and the sitting down indicated that the suppliant was confidant that his prayer would be granted. The Romans believed that prayers were more efficacious if said in the immediate presence and, if possible, in actual contact with the image of the god. The doorkeepers of the temple were frequently besieged by suppliants who begged to be admitted into the inclosures of the sacred places where they might pray to the deity on the spot. On account of the vast numbers of the gods, the Romans were sometimes at a loss to know which one to address in prayer. Unlike the Greeks, they had no preferences among their deities. Each was supplicated in his turn according to the business in hand. But they were frequently in doubt as to the name of the god who had control of the subject-matter of their petitions. In such cases, the practical genius of the Roman people served them well. They had recourse to several expedients which they believed would insure success. When in doubt as to the particular divinity which they should address in supplication, they would, at times, invoke, in the first place, Janus, the god of all good beginnings, the doorkeeper, so to speak, of the pantheon, who, it was believed, would deliver the prayer to the proper deity. At other times, in such perplexity, they would address their petitions to a group of gods in which they knew the right one was bound to be. It sometimes happened that they did not know whether the deity to be supplicated was a god or goddess. In such an emergency, they expressed themselves very cautiously, using the alternative proviso: "Be thou god or goddess." At other times, in cases of extreme doubt, they prayed to all the deities at once; and often, in fits of desperation, they dismissed the entire pantheon and addressed their prayers to the Unknown God. Another mode of propitiating the gods was by sacrifice. Animals, the fruits of the fields, and even human beings were devoted to this purpose. In the matter of sacrifice, the practical genius of the Roman people was again forcibly manifested. They were tactful enough to adapt the sacrifice to the whims and tastes of the gods. A provision of the Twelve Tables was that "such beasts should be used for victims as were becoming and agreeable to each deity." The framers of these laws evidently believed that the gods had keenly whetted appetites and discriminating tastes in the matter of animal sacrifice. Jupiter Capitolinus was pleased with an offering of white cattle with gilded horns, but would not accept rams or bulls. Mars, Neptune and Apollo were, on the other hand, highly delighted with the sacrifice of bulls. It was also agreeable to Mars to have horses, cocks, and asses sacrificed in his honor. An intact heifer was always pleasing to the goddess Minerva. A white cow with moon-shaped horns delighted Juno Calendaris. A sow in young was sacrificed to the great Mother; and doves and sparrows to Venus. Unweaned puppies were offered as victims of expiation to the Lares and Penates. Black bulls were usually slaughtered to appease the infernal gods. The most careful attention was given to the selection of the victims of sacrifice from the flocks and herds. Any serious physical defect in the animal disqualified. A calf was not fit for slaughter if its tail did not reach to the joint of the leg. Sheep with cloven tongues and black ears were rejected. Black spots on a white ox had to be rubbed white with chalk before the beast was available for sacrifice. Not only animals were sacrificed, but human beings as well, to appease the wrath of the gods in time of awful calamity. In early Roman history, gray-headed men of sixty years were hurled from the Pons Sublicius into the Tiber as an offering to Saturn. In the year 227 B.C., the pontiffs discovered from the Sibylline books that the Gauls and Greeks were to attack and capture the city. To fulfill the prophecy and, at the same time to avert the danger, the senate decreed that a man and woman of each of these two nations should be buried alive in the forum as a form of constructive possession. This was nothing but a human sacrifice to the gods. Again, two of Cæsar's soldiers, who had participated in a riot in Rome, were taken to the Campus Martius and sacrificed to Mars by the pontiffs and the Flamen Martialis. Their heads were fixed upon the Regia, as was the case in the sacrifice of the October-horse. As an oblation to Neptune, Sextus Pompeius had live men and horses thrown into the sea at the time when a great storm was destroying the fleet of the enemy. A near approach to human sacrifice was the custom of sprinkling the statue of Jupiter Latiaris with the blood of gladiators. A priest caught the blood as it gushed from the wound of the dying gladiator, and dashed it while still warm at the face of the image of the god. Suetonius tells us that after the capture of Perugia, Augustus Cæsar slaughtered three hundred prisoners as an expiatory sacrifice to Julius Cæsar. Thus at the beginning of the Christian era, human beings were still being sacrificed on the altars of superstition. _Ascertaining the Will of the Gods._--Various methods were employed by the Romans in ascertaining the will of the gods. Chief among these were the art of divination from the flight of birds and from the inspection of the entrails of animals; also from the observation of lightning and the interpretation of dreams. The Romans had no oracles like those of the Greeks, but they frequently sent messengers to consult the Delphic oracle. Nothing is stranger or more disgusting in all the range of religious history than the practice of the Roman haruspices. That the ancient masters of the world should have felt themselves obliged to search in the belly of a beast for the will of Jupiter is one of the abominable enigmas of Pagan superstition. The inspection of the entrails of victims was a Tuscan science, early imported from Etruria, and naturalized at Rome. Tuscan haruspices accompanied the Roman armies everywhere, and determined by their skill whether a battle should be fought or a retreat ordered. When it was doubtful what to do, an animal was slaughtered, and the heart, lungs, liver, tongue, spleen, kidneys and caul were closely inspected with the aid of a small needle or knife. Various conditions and appearances of these parts were considered as signs of the pleasure or disfavor of the gods. Largely developed veins on the adverse side were considered tokens of extreme displeasure and an indication of pending misfortune. It was also considered gravely ominous when the head or protuberance in the right lobe of the liver was wanting. The Romans were too practical and indomitable, however, to allow a single bad omen to frustrate a great enterprise. If the inspection of the entrails of the first animal was not favorable, they slaughtered still others until a propitious sign was observed. At times, a score of beasts were slain before the gods gave assent to the enterprise in hand. Divination from the flight and notes of birds was another method employed by the Romans in finding out the will of the gods. And it may be remarked that this was certainly a more rational and elevated form of divination than that which we have just discussed. An eagle swooping down from the skies would certainly be a more natural and pleasing suggestion of the thoughts and attributes of Jove than the filthy interior of the entrails of a bull. The elements of divination from the flight of birds were derived either from the significant notes and sounds of their voices, or from the manner in which their wings were flapped or their flight conducted. If the bird flew from the left to the right of the augur, it was considered a happy omen; if the flight was in the opposite direction, the enterprise in hand had to be abandoned or at least delayed. Augury by flight was usually applied to eagles and vultures, while woodpeckers, ravens, crows, and screech owls announced the will of the gods by note. The direction from which the note came, usually determined the nature of the augury. But, in the case of the screech owl, the sounds were always of evil omen, from whatever side they came. And those who have been so unfortunate as to hear its mournful, desolate and God-forsaken tones will not be disposed to censure either the Romans or their gods for the low esteem in which they held this bird. Again, it was a principle of Roman augury that auspices could be neutralized or overcome. If a crow furnished an omen, and an eagle gave another which was opposed to it, the first sign was wiped out, because the eagle was a larger and nobler bird than the crow. And, as in the case of prayer, so also in the matter of the auspices, a disturbing sound would destroy the effect of the augury. The squeak or cry of a mouse would destroy a message from Jupiter conveyed in the scream of an eagle. But the most potent manifestation of the divine mind, among the ancient Romans, was that derived from thunder and lightning. Lightning to them was the sovereign expression of the will of the gods; and a single flash blotted out every other sign and token. It was an irrevocable presage and could not be remotely modified or evaded. It came directly from the hand of the deity and was an emphatic revelation of the divine mind. All places struck by lightning were considered sacred and were consecrated to the god who had sent the bolt. Upon the spot where it fell, an altar was raised and an inclosure formed. The service of consecration consisted in burying the lightning, that is, in restoring the earth thrown up by it, and in the sacrifice of a two-year-old sheep. All such places were considered hallowed spots and it was impious and sacrilegious to touch them or even look at them. The gods deprived of reason those who destroyed the altars and sacred inclosures of these places. These various methods of ascertaining the will of the deities were employed in every important transaction of Roman public and private life. At times, all of them coöperated on occasions of vast import and when the lives and destinies of great men were involved. The following single paragraph from Suetonius contains allusions to all the modes of divination which we have just discussed: After the death of Cæsar, upon his return from Apollonia as he was entering the city, on a sudden, in a clear and bright sky a circle resembling the rainbow surrounded the body of the sun; and immediately afterwards, the tomb of Julia, Cæsar's daughter, was struck by lightning. In his first consulship whilst he was observing the auguries, twelve vultures presented themselves as they had done to Romulus. And when he offered sacrifice, the livers of all the victims were folded inward in the lower part; a circumstance which was regarded by those present, who had skill in things of that nature, as an indubitable prognostic of great and wonderful fortune.[137] The interpretation of dreams also formed an important part in the determination of the will of the gods, not only among the Romans, but among all ancient nations. The literature of antiquity, both sacred and profane, is filled with dreams. Whether the biographer is Matthew or Plutarch, dreams appear on the pages of both. Chrysippus made a collection of prophetical dreams in order to explain their meaning. Both Galen and Hippocrates believed that dreams were sent by the gods to men. Artemidorus wrote a treatise on the subject, and in it he assures us that it was compiled at the express bidding and under the direction of Apollo himself. It was in a dream that Joseph was warned not to put away Mary his wife.[138] It was also in a dream that an angel voice warned him to flee into Egypt with the infant Savior to escape the murderous designs of Herod.[139] Nearly every great event, both in Greek and Roman history, seems to have been heralded or attended by dreams. The following account is given by Suetonius of the dreams of Quintus Catulus and Marcus Cicero presaging the reign of Augustus: Quintus Catulus had a dream, for two nights successively after his dedication of the Capitol. The first night he dreamt that Jupiter out of several boys of the order of the nobility who were playing about his altar, selected one, into whose bosom he put the public seal of the commonwealth, which he held in his hand; but in his vision the next night, he saw in the bosom of Jupiter Capitolinus, the same boy; whom he ordered to be removed, but it was forbidden by the God, who declared that it must be brought up to become the guardian of the state. The next day, meeting Augustus, with whom till that hour he had not the least acquaintance, and looking at him with admiration, he said he was extremely like the boy he had seen in his dream. Some gave a different account of Catulus's first dream, namely that Jupiter, upon several noble lads requesting of him that they might have a guardian, had pointed to one amongst them, to whom they were to prefer their requests; and putting his fingers to the boy's mouth to kiss, he afterwards applied them to his own. Marcus Cicero, as he was attending Caius Cæsar to the Capitol, happened to be telling some of his friends a dream which he had the preceding night, in which he saw a comely youth let down from heaven by a golden chain, who stood at the door of the Capitol, and had a whip put into his hands by Jupiter. And immediately upon sight of Augustus, who had been sent for by his uncle Cæsar to the sacrifice, and was as yet perfectly unknown to most of the company, he affirmed that it was the very boy he had seen in his dream. When he assumed the manly toga, his senatorian tunic becoming loose in the seam on each side, fell at his feet. Some would have this to forebode, that the order of which that was the badge of distinction, would some time or other be subject to him.[140] Omens also played an important rôle in molding the destiny of the Roman state. In his "Life of Cæsar Augustus," Suetonius says: Some signs and omens he regarded as infallible. If in the morning, his shoe was put on wrong, the left instead of the right, that boded some disaster. If when he commenced a long journey, by land or sea, there happened to fall a mizzling rain, he held it to be a good sign of a speedy and happy return. He was much affected likewise with anything out of the common course of nature. A palm-tree which chanced to grow up between some stones in the court of his house, he transplanted into a court where the images of the Household Gods were placed, and took all possible care to make it thrive. In the island of Capri, some decayed branches of an old ilex, which hung drooping to the ground, recovered themselves upon his arrival; at which he was so delighted, that he made an exchange with the Republic of Naples, of the Island of Ischia, for that of Capri. He likewise observed certain days; as never to go from home the day after the Numdinæ, nor to begin any serious business upon the nones; avoiding nothing else in it, as he writes to Tiberius, than its unlucky name.[141] Any unusual happening and all the striking phenomena of nature were regarded by the Romans as prodigies or omens indicative of the will of the gods. The nature of the occurrence indicated the pleasure or the wrath of the deity. An eclipse of the sun and the moon, a shooting star, a rainbow of peculiar color, showers of stones and ashes, were regarded as awful prodigies, and generally threw the Roman Senate into a panic. On such occasions, the pontifical college called a hurried meeting. The augurs and haruspices were summoned to immediate duty; and everything was done to ascertain the will of the gods and to do their bidding. A two-headed snake or a three-legged chicken, such as we frequently see to-day, would have shaken the whole Roman religious system to the center. Such was the credulity of the Roman people, that the most improbable and impossible stories, mere rumors born of lying imposture, were heard and believed. "Idols shed tears or sweated blood, oxen spoke, men were changed into women, cocks into hens, lakes or brooks ran with blood or milk, mice nibbled at the golden vessels of the temples, a swarm of bees lighted on a temple or in a public place." All such alleged occurrences required sacrifices and expiatory rites to conquer the fury and regain the favor of the gods. _Fall of the Early Roman Religion._--At the beginning of the Christian era, the old Roman religion, founded upon the institutions of Numa, had almost come to an end. The invasion of Italy by the Greek gods was the first serious assault upon the early Roman faith. The elegant refinement and fascinating influence of Greek literature, philosophy and sculpture, had incrusted with a gorgeous coating the rude forms of the primitive Roman worship. But, as time advanced, the old gods grew stale and new deities were sought. The human soul could not forever feed upon myths, however brilliant and bewitching. The mysterious and melancholy rites of Isis came to establish themselves by the side of those of Janus and Æsculapius. The somber qualities of the Egyptian worship seemed to commend it. Even so good and grand a man as Marcus Aurelius avowed himself an adorer of Serapis; and, during a sojourn in Egypt, he is reported to have conducted himself like an Egyptian citizen and philosopher while strolling through the temples and sacred groves on the banks of the Nile.[142] The effect of the repeated changes from one form of religious faith to another was to gradually destroy the moral fiber of Roman worship and to shatter Roman faith in the existence and stability of the gods. The first manifestation of that disintegration which finally completely undermined and destroyed the temple of Roman worship was the familiarity with which the Romans treated their gods. Familiarity with gods, as with men, breeds contempt. A striking peculiarity of both the Roman and Greek mythologies was the intimate relationship that existed between gods and human beings. Sometimes it took the form of personal intercourse from which heroes sprang, as was the case with Jupiter and Alcmene, of whom Hercules was born. At other times, deities and human beings traveled together on long voyages, as was the case with Minerva and Telemachus on their trip to the island of Calypso. These were instances of what the Greeks regarded as that natural and sympathetic relationship that not only could but should exist between them and their divinities. But in time the Romans entered upon a career of frivolous fellowship and familiarity with their gods which destroyed their mutual respect, and hastened the dissolution of the bonds that had hitherto held them together. They began to treat their divinities as men, deserving of honor indeed, but nevertheless human beings with all the frailties and attributes of mortals. "Arnobius speaks of morning serenades sung with an accompaniment of fifes, as a kind of reveille to the sleeping gods, and of an evening salutation, in which leave was taken of the deity with the wishing him a good night's rest." The Lectisternia or banquets of the gods were ordinary religious functions to which the deities themselves were invited. These feasts were characterized at times by extreme exclusiveness. It was not right, thought the Romans, to degrade and humiliate the greater gods by seating them at the banquet board with smaller ones. So, a right royal fête was annually arranged in the Capitol in honor of Jupiter, Juno, and Minerva. The statue of the great god was placed reclining on a pillow; and the images of the two goddesses were seated upon chairs near him. At other times, the functions were more democratic, and great numbers of the gods were admitted, as well as a few select and distinguished mortals. On such occasions, the images of the gods were placed in pairs on cushions near the table. The Romans believed that the spirit of the god actually inhabited or occupied the statue. This we learn from Lucian. The happy mortals who were fortunate enough to be present at the banquet, actually believed that they were seated among the gods. Livy tells us that once the gods turned on their cushions and reversed themselves at the table, and that mice then came and devoured the meats.[143] The Roman historians very seriously inform us that special invitations were extended the gods to attend these banquets. They fail to tell us, however, whether R.S.V.P. or any other directions were inserted in the cards of invitation. We are left completely in the dark as to the formality employed by the deities to indicate their acceptance or rejection of the proffered honor. The purpose of the Lectisternia was at first undoubtedly to promote hospitality and fellowship, and to conciliate the good will of the gods. But finally such intimacy ripened into contempt and all kinds of indecencies began to be practiced against the deities. Speaking of the actions of certain Romans, Seneca says: "One sets a rival deity by the side of another god; another shows Jupiter the time of day; this one acts the beadle, the other the anointer, pretending by gesture to rub in the ointment. A number of coiffeurs attend upon Juno and Minerva, and make pretence of curling with their fingers, not only at a distance from their images, but in the actual temple. Some hold the looking-glass to them; some solicit the gods to stand security for them; while others display briefs before them, and instruct them in their law cases." This rude conduct was practiced by men. But Seneca, continuing, says: "Women, too, take their seats at the Capitol pretending that Jupiter is enamored of them, and not allowing themselves to be intimidated by Juno's presence."[144] _Roman Skepticism._--Of contempt of the gods, which was due to many causes, skepticism was born. The deities of every race had been brought to Rome and placed in the pantheon; and there, gazing into each other's faces, had destroyed each other. The multiplicity of the gods was the chief agency in the destruction of the Roman faith and ritual. The yoke and burden of endless ceremonials had been borne for centuries and were now producing intolerable irritation and nauseating disgust. The natural freedom of the soul was in open rebellion and revolt against the hollow forms and rigid exactions of the Roman ritual. The eagle of the human intellect was already preparing to soar above the clouds of superstition. Cicero gave expression to the prevalent sentiments of educated Romans of his day when he wrote: I thought I should be doing an immense benefit both to myself and to my countrymen if I could entirely eradicate all superstitious errors. Nor is there any fear that true religion can be endangered by the demolition of this superstition; for as this religion which is united with the knowledge of nature is to be propagated, so, also, are all the roots of superstition to be destroyed; for that presses upon and pursues and persecutes you wherever you turn yourself, whether you consult a diviner or have heard an omen or have immolated a victim, or beheld a flight of birds; whether you have seen a Chaldæan or a soothsayer; if it lightens or thunders, or if anything is struck by lightning; if any kind of prodigy occurs; some of which things must be frequently coming to pass, so that you can never rise with a tranquil mind. The completion of Roman conquest in the reign of Augustus was another potent influence in the destruction of the old Roman religion. The chief employment of the Roman gods had ever been as servants of the Roman state in the extension of the Roman empire. Their services were now no longer needed in this regard, and their ancient worshipers were ready to repudiate and dismiss them. The Hebrew characteristic of humility and resignation in the presence of divine displeasure was not a Roman trait. The ancient masters of the world reserved the right to object and even to rebel when the gods failed to do their duty after appropriate prayers had been said and proper ceremonies had been performed. Sacrilege, as the result of disappointment, was a frequent occurrence in Roman religious life. Bitter defiance of the heavenly powers sometimes followed a defeat in battle or a failure in diplomacy. Augustus, as supreme pontiff, chastised Neptune, the god of the sea, because he lost his fleet in a storm, by forbidding the image of the god to be carried in the procession of the next Circensian games. The emperor Julian was regarded as a most pious potentate, but he did not hesitate to defy the gods when he became displeased. At the time of the Parthian war, he was preparing to sacrifice ten select and beautiful bulls to Mars the Avenger, when nine of them suddenly lay down while being led to the altar, and the tenth broke his band. The fury of the monarch was aroused, and he swore by Jupiter that he would not again offer a sacrifice to Mars.[145] Claudius, the commander of the Roman fleet at Drepanum, ordered the sacred pullets to be thrown into the sea because they would not eat. When Germanicus was sick in Asia, his devoted admirers offered frequent prayers to the gods for his recovery. When the report of his death reached Rome, the temples of the unaccommodating deities were stoned, and their altars were overturned.[146] The same feeling of angry resentment and defiance may be discerned in inscriptions on the graves of relatives prematurely snatched away by death. An epitaph on the monument of a child of five years was this: "To the unrighteous gods who robbed me of my life." Another on the tombstone of a maiden of twenty, named Procope, read as follows: "I lift my hand against the god who has deprived me of my innocent existence."[147] The soil of familiarity, contempt and sacrilege which we have just described, was most fertile ground for the growth of that rank and killing skepticism which was destroying the vitals of the Roman faith at the time of Christ. This unbelief, it is true, was not universal. At the time of the birth of the Savior, the Roman masses still believed in the gods and goddesses of the Greek and Roman mythologies. Superstition was especially prevalent in the country districts of both Greece and Italy. Pausanias, who lived about the middle of the second century of the Christian era, tells as that in his time the olden legends of god and hero were still firmly believed by the common people. As he traveled through Greece, the cypresses of Alcmæon, the stance of Amphion, and the ashes of the funeral piles of Niobe's children were pointed out to him. In Phocis, he found the belief still existing that larks laid no eggs there because of the sin of Tereus.[148] Plutarch, who lived about the middle of the first century of our era, tells us that the people were still modeling the gods in wax and clay, as well as carving them in marble and were worshiping them in contempt and defiance of philosophers and statesmen.[149] But this credulity was limited to the ignorant and unthinking masses. The intellectual leaders of both the Greek and Roman races had long been in revolt against the absurdity and vulgarity of the myths which formed the foundation of their popular faiths. The purity and majesty of the soul felt keenly the insult and outrage of enforced obedience to the obscene divinities that Homer and Hesiod had handed down to them. Five hundred years before Christ, Pindar, the greatest lyric poet of Greece, had denounced the vulgar tales told of the deities, and had branded as blasphemous the story of the cannibal feast spread for the gods by the father of Pelops. Xenophanes, also, in the sixth century before Christ, had ridiculed the mythical tales of the Homeric poems, and had called attention to the purely human character of popular religions. He had pointed out that the Ethiopians painted the images of their deities black, and gave them flat noses, in the likeness of themselves; that the Thracians, on the other hand, created their gods blue-eyed and red; and that, in general, every race had reflected its own physical peculiarities in the creation of its gods. He declared it to be his opinion that if the beasts of the field should attempt to produce a likeness of the gods, the horses would produce a resemblance of themselves, and that oxen and lions would ascribe to their own divinities their own images and peculiarities. The whole structure of the Roman religion, built upon myths and adorned with fables, was ill fitted to stand the tests of analysis and criticism. It was destined to weaken and crumble the moment it was subjected to serious rational inquiry. Such inquiry was inevitable in the progress of that soul-growth which the centuries were sure to bring. Natural philosophy and historical study began to dissolve the sacred legends and to demand demonstration and proof where faith had before sufficed. Skeptical criticism began to dissect the formulæ of prayer and to analyze the elements of augury and sacrifice. Reason began to revolt against the proposition that Jupiter was justified in rejecting a petition because a syllable had been omitted or a word mispronounced. Men began to ask: "What explanation could be given of the strange changes of mind in the gods, often threatening evil on the first inspection of the victim, and at the second promising good? How did it happen that a sacrifice to Apollo gave favorable, and one to Diana unfavorable signs? Why did the Etruscan, the Elan, the Egyptian, and the Punic inspectors of sacrifice interpret the entrails in an entirely different manner? Again, what connection in nature was there between a fissure in the liver of a lamb, and a trifling advantage to a man, an inheritance to be expected, or the like? And on a man's intending to sacrifice, did a change, corresponding to his circumstances, take place in the entrails of the beast; so that, supposing another person had selected the same victim, he would have found the liver in a quite different condition?" The gods themselves became subjects of inspection and analysis. Their origin and nature were studied historically, and were also reviewed in the light of natural and ethical products. Three hundred years before Christ, Evhemere of Messina boldly declared that the gods were simply ancient kings deified by fear and superstition after death. Anaxagoras sought to identify the several deities with the forces and phenomena of nature, thus converting the pantheon into an observatory, or into a physical and chemical laboratory. Metrodorus contended that the gods were deifications of mere abstract ethical precepts. Instances are recorded in history, from time to time, where the philosophers attempted to explain to the people the natural meaning of those things which they believed were pregnant with supernatural import. On a certain occasion, a ram with one horn was found on the farm of Pericles, and, from this circumstance, an Athenian diviner, named Lampon, predicted that the party of the orator would triumph over the opposite faction and gain control of the government. Whereupon Anaxagoras dissected the skull, and demonstrated to the people the natural cause of the phenomenon in the peculiar shape of the animal's brain. But this reformer finally suffered the fate of other innovators, was prosecuted for impiety, and was only saved by the influence of Pericles. At the beginning of the Christian era, the religion of Rome was privately ridiculed and repudiated by nearly all statesmen and philosophers of the empire, although they publicly professed it on grounds of public policy. Seneca, a contemporary of Jesus, advised observance of rites appointed by law, on patriotic grounds. "All which things," he says, "a wise man will observe as being commanded by the laws, but not as being pleasing to the gods." Again he says: "All that ignoble rabble of gods which the superstition of ages has heaped up, we shall adore in such a way as to remember that their worship belongs rather to custom than to reality." Ridiculing the popular notions of the matrimonial relations of the deities, the same eminent philosopher says: "And what of this, that we unite the gods in marriage, and that not even naturally, for we join brothers and sisters? We marry Bellona to Mars, Venus to Vulcan, Salacia to Neptune. Some of them we leave unmarried, as though there were no match for them, which is surely needless, especially when there are certain unmarried goddesses, as Populonia, or Fulgora, or the goddess Rumina, for whom I am not astonished that suitors have been wanting." The prevailing skepticism of the times is well illustrated in a dialogue which Cicero introduces into his first Tusculan Disputation between M, which may be interpreted Marcus, and A, which may be translated Auditor: MARCUS: Tell me, are you not afraid of the three-headed Cerberus in the infernal regions, and the roaring of Cocytus, and the passage over Acheron, and Tantalus, dying with thirst, while water laves his chin, and Sisyphus, "Who sweats with arduous toil in vain The steepy summit of the mount to gain?" Perhaps you are also afraid of the inexorable judges, Minos and Rhadamanthus, because before them neither L. Crassus nor M. Antonius can defend you, and because appearing before Grecian judges, you will not be permitted to employ Demosthenes, but must plead for yourself before a very great crowd. All these things, perhaps, you fear, and therefore regard death as an eternal evil. AUDITOR: Do you think I'm such a fool as to give credence to such things? MARCUS: What! You don't believe in them? AUDITOR: Truly, not in the least. MARCUS: I am deeply pained to hear that. AUDITOR: Why? MARCUS: Because, if occasion had offered, I could very eloquently have denounced them, myself.[150] The contemptuous scorn of the cultivated Romans of his time is frequently revealed in the writings of Cicero. He refers more than once to the famous remark of Cato, who said that he could not explain why the haruspices did not laugh in each other's faces when they began to sacrifice. At this point, it is worthy of observation that the prevalent unbelief was not limited to a simple denial of the existence of mythical divinities and of the efficacy of the worship rendered them. Roman skepticism sought to destroy the very foundation of all religious belief by denying not only the existence of the gods, but also the immortality of the soul. Cicero is said to have been the only great Roman of his time who believed that death was not the end. Students of Sallust are familiar with his account of the conspiracy of Cataline in which it is related that Julius Cæsar, in a speech before the Roman senate, opposed putting the traitor to death because that form of punishment was too mild, since beyond the grave there was neither joy nor sorrow.[151] Antagonism to the doctrine of the immortality of the soul reached a melancholy refinement in the strange contention that life after death was a cruel thought. Pliny expresses this sentiment admirably when he says: What folly it is to renew life after death. Where shall created beings find rest if you suppose that shades in hell and souls in heaven continue to have any feeling? You rob us of man's greatest good--death. Let us rather find in the tranquillity which preceded our existence the pledge of the repose which is to follow it. When skepticism had destroyed their faith in the gods, and had robbed them of the consolations of religion, educated Romans sought refuge and solace in Greek philosophy. Stoicism and Epicureanism were the dominant spiritual and intellectual forces of the Roman empire at the time of Christ. Epicureanism was founded by Epicurus, who was born of an Athenian family in the Island of Samos about 342 B.C. Stoicism originated with Zeno, a native of Cittium in Cyprus, born about the year 340 B.C. The original design of the system of Epicurus was to found a commonwealth of happiness and goodness in opposition to the purely intellectual aristocracy of Plato and Aristotle. Men were beginning to tire of speculation and dialectics, and to long for a philosophy built upon human feeling and sensibility. As a touchstone of truth, it was proposed to substitute sensation for intellect. Whatever was pleasing to the natural and healthful senses was to be taken to be true. The pursuit of happiness was to be the chief aim of the devotees of this system. The avoidance of mental pain and physical suffering, as well as the cultivation of all pleasurable emotions, were to be the leading features of every Epicurean programme. In the beginning, Epicureanism inculcated principles of virtue as a means of happiness. The mode of life of the first followers of Epicurus was simple and abstemious. Barley-bread and water are said to have been their ordinary food and drink. But in time this form of philosophy became identified with the coarsest sensuality and the most wicked lust. This was especially true after it was transplanted from Greece to Italy. The doctrines of this school met with a ready response from the pleasure-seeking, luxury-loving Roman people who were now enriched by the spoils and treasures of a conquered world. "This philosophy therefore became at Rome a mere school of self-indulgence, and lost the refinement which, in Greece, had led it to recognize in virtue that which gave zest to pleasure and in temperance that which prolonged it. It called simply for a continuous round of physical delights; it taught the grossest sensuality; it proclaimed the inanity of goodness and the lawfulness of lust. It was the road--sure, steep and swift, to awful demoralization." Stoicism, on the other hand, furnished spiritual and intellectual food to that nobler class of Romans who were at once the support and ornament of a magnificent but decadent civilization. This form of philosophy was peculiarly consonant with early Roman instincts and habits. In its teachings were perfectly reflected that vigor, austerity, and manly self-reliance which had made the Roman race undisputed masters of the world. Many of its precepts were not only moral and ennobling, but deeply religious and sustaining. A striking kinship between them and certain Christian precepts has been frequently pointed out. Justice, fortitude, prudence, and temperance were the four cardinal virtues of Stoicism. Freedom from all passions and complete simplicity of life, resulting in perfect purity of manners, was its chief aim. But the fundamental principles of both Epicureanism and Stoicism were destructive of those spiritual elements which furnish complete and permanent nourishment to the soul. Stoicism was pantheism, and Epicureanism was materialism. The Stoic believed that the human soul was corporeal, but that it was animated and illuminated by the universal soul. The Epicurean taught that the soul was composed of material atoms, which would perish when its component parts separated or dissolved. Epicureanism was materialistic in its tendency, and its inevitable result, in perverted form, was sensualism. Stoicism was pervaded throughout by a melancholy and desolating fatalism. It was peculiarly the philosophy of suicide; or, as a great French writer once described it, "an apprenticeship for death."[152] To take one's life was not only allowable but commendable in certain cases. Zeno, the founder of the sect, taught that incurable disease was a sufficient excuse for suicide. Marcus Aurelius considered it an obligation of nature and of reason to make an end of life when it became an intolerable burden. "Kill thyself and die erect in the consciousness of thy own strength," would have been a suitable inscription over the doorway of every Stoic temple. Seneca furnished to his countrymen this Stoic panacea for all the ills of life: Seest thou yon steep height, that is the descent to freedom. Seest thou yon sea, yon river, yon well; freedom sits there in the depths. Seest thou yon low withered tree; there freedom hangs. Seest thou thy neck, thy throat, thy heart; they are the ways of escape from bondage. And the Roman philosopher was not only conscientious but consistent in his teachings. He was heroic enough to take the medicine himself which he had prescribed for others. Indeed, he took a double dose; for he not only swallowed poison, but also opened his veins, and thus committed suicide, as other Stoics--such as Zeno, Cleanthes and Cato--had done before him. It was not a problem of the Stoic philosophy, Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, Or to take arms against a sea of troubles, And by opposing end them?[153] A familiar illustration of the advocates of suicide among the Roman writers was that a human body afflicted with incurable disease, or a human mind weighed down with intolerable grief, was like a house filled with smoke. As it was the duty of the occupant of the house to escape from the smoke by flight, so it was the duty of the soul to leave the body by suicide. But neither Epicureanism nor Stoicism could satisfy the natural longing of the soul for that which is above the earth and beyond the grave. It was impossible that philosophy should completely displace religion. The spiritual nature of the Roman people was still intact and vigorous after belief in myths was dead. As a substitute for their ancient faith and as a supplement to philosophy, they began to deify their illustrious men and women. The apotheosis of the emperors was the natural result of the progressive degradation of the Roman religion. The deification of Julius Cæsar was the beginning of this servile form of worship; and the apotheosis of Diocletian was the fifty-third of these solemn canonizations. Of this number, fifteen were those of princesses belonging to the imperial family. Divine honors began to be paid to Cæsar before he was dead. The anniversary of his birth became a national holiday; his bust was placed in the temple, and a month of the year was named for him. After his assassination, he was worshiped as a god under the name of Divus Julius; and sacrifices were offered upon his altar. After Julius Cæsar, followed the deification of Augustus Cæsar. Even before his death, Octavian had consented to be worshiped in the provinces, especially in Nicomedia and Pergamus. After his death, his worship was introduced into Rome and Italy. The act of canonizing a dead emperor was accomplished by a vote of the senate, followed by a solemn ceremony, in which an eagle was released at the funeral pile, and soaring upward, became a symbol of the ascent of the deceased to the skies. A Roman senator, Numerius Atticus, swore that he had seen Augustus ascending to heaven at the time of his consecration; and received from Livia a valuable gift of money as a token of her appreciation of his kindness. Not only were grand and gifted men like Julius and Augustus Cæsar, but despicable and contemptible tyrants like Nero and Commodus, raised to the rank of immortals. And, not content with making gods of emperors, the Romans made goddesses of their royal women. Caligula had lived in incestuous intercourse with his sister Drusilla; nevertheless, he had her immortalized and worshiped as a divine being. This same Caligula who was a monster of depravity, insisted on being worshiped as a god in the flesh throughout the Roman empire, although the custom had been not to deify emperors until after they were dead. The cowardly and obsequious Roman senate decreed him a temple in Rome. The royal rascal erected another to himself, and appointed his own private priests and priestesses, among whom were his uncle Claudius, and the Cæsonia who afterwards became his wife. This temple and its ministry were maintained at an enormous expense. Only the rarest and most costly birds like peacocks and pheasants, were allowed to be sacrificed to him. Such was the impious conceit of Caligula that he requested the Asiatics of Miletus to convert a temple of Apollo into a shrine sacred to himself. Some of the noblest statuary of antiquity was mutilated in displacing the heads of gods to make places for the head of this wicked monster. A mighty descent this, indeed, from the Olympian Zeus of Phidias to a bust of Caligula! Domitian, after his deification, had himself styled "Lord and God," in all documents, and required all his subjects to so address him. Pliny tells us that the roads leading into Rome were constantly filled with flocks and herds being driven to the Capital to be sacrificed upon his altar.[154] The natural and inevitable result of the decay of the Roman religion was the corruption and demoralization of Roman social life. All experience teaches that an assault upon a people's religious system is an assault upon the entire social and moral organization. Every student of history knows that a nation will be prosperous and happy to the extent that it is religiously intelligent, and in proportion to its loyalty to the laws of social virtue, to the laws of good government, and the laws of God; and that an abandonment of its gods means the wreck and dissolution of its entire social structure. The annals of Rome furnish a striking confirmation of this fact. The closing pages of this chapter will be devoted to a short topical review of Roman society at the time of Christ. Only a few phases of the subject can be presented in a work of this character. II.--GRÆCO-ROMAN SOCIAL LIFE _Marriage and Divorce._--The family is the unit of the social system; and at the hearthstone all civilization begins. The loosening of the domestic ties is the beginning of the dissolution of the state; and whatever weakens the nuptial bonds, tends to destroy the moral fiber of society. The degradation of women and the destruction of domestic purity were the first signs of decay in Roman life. In the early ages of the republic, marriage was regarded not only as a contract, but as a sacrament as well. Connubial fidelity was sacredly maintained. Matrons of the type of Cornelia, the mother of the Gracchi, were objects of national pride and affection. The spirit of desperation which caused the father of Virginia to plunge a butcher's knife into the chaste and innocent heart of his child to save her from the lust of Appius Claudius, was a tragic illustration of the almost universal Roman respect for virtue in the age of the Tarquins. To such an extent were the marital relations venerated by the early Romans that we are assured by Dionysius that five hundred and twenty years had passed before a single divorce was granted. Carvilius Ruga, the name of the first Roman to procure a divorce, has been handed down to us.[155] If we are to believe Döllinger, the abandonment of the policy of lifelong devotion to the marriage relation and the inauguration of the system of divorce were due not to the faults of the men but to the dangerous and licentious qualities of the Roman women. In connection with the divorce of Carvilius Ruga, he discusses a widespread conspiracy of Roman wives to poison their husbands. Several of these husbands fell victims to this plot; and, as punishment for the crime, twenty married women were forced to take the poison which they had themselves prepared, and were thus put to death. And, about a half century after this divorce, several wives of distinguished Romans were discovered to be participants in the bacchanalian orgies. From all these things, Döllinger infers that the Roman men began to tire of their wives and to seek legal separation from them.[156] But, whatever the cause, the marriage tie was so easily severed during the latter years of the republic, that divorce was granted on the slightest pretext. Q. Antistius Vetus divorced his wife because she was talking familiarly and confidentially to one of his freedmen. The wife of C. Sulpicius imprudently entered the street without a veil, and her husband secured a divorce on that ground. P. Sempronius Sophus put away his wife for going to the theater without his knowledge. Cicero divorced his first wife that he might marry a younger and wealthier woman; and because this second one did not exhibit sufficient sorrow at the death of his daughter, Tullia, he repudiated her. Cato, the stern Stoic moralist, was several times divorced. To accommodate his friend Hortensius he gave him his second wife Marcia, with her father's consent; and, after the death of the orator, he remarried her. After being several times previously divorced, Pompey put away Mucia in order that he might wed Julia, Cæsar's daughter, who was young enough to be the child of Pompey. Cæsar himself was five times married. He divorced his wife, Pompeia, because of her relationship to Clodius, a dashing and dissolute young Roman, who entered Cæsar's house on the occasion of the celebration of the feast of the Bona Dea in a woman's dress, in order that he might pay clandestine suit to the object of his lust. Cæsar professed to believe that the charges against Pompeia were not true, but he divorced her nevertheless, with the remark that "Cæsar's wife must be above suspicion." We are reminded by this that, in ancient as in modern times, society placed greater restrictions upon women than upon men; for Cæsar, who uttered this virtuous and heroic sentiment, was a most notorious rake and profligate. Suetonius tells us that he debauched many Roman ladies of the first rank; among them "Lollia, the wife of Aulus Gabinius; Tertulla, the wife of Marcus Crassus; and Mucia, the wife of Cneius Pompey." It was frequently made a reproach to Pompey, "that to gratify his ambition, he married the daughter of a man upon whose account he had divorced his wife, after having had three children by her; and whom he used, with a deep sigh, to call Ægisthus." But the favorite mistress of Cæsar was Servilia, the mother of Marcus Brutus. To consummate an intrigue with her, he gave Servilia a pearl which cost him six millions of sesterces. And at the time of the civil war he had deeded to her for a trifling consideration, several valuable farms. When people expressed surprise at the lowness of the price, Cicero humorously remarked: "To let you know the real value of the purchase, between ourselves, Tertia was deducted." It was generally suspected at Rome that Servilia had prostituted her daughter Tertia to Cæsar; and the witticism of the orator was a _double entendre_, Tertia signifying the third (of the value of the farm), as well as being the name of the girl, whose virtue had paid the price of the deduction. Cæsar's lewdness was so flagrant and notorious that his soldiers marching behind his chariot, on the occasion of his Gallic triumph, shouted in ribald jest, to the multitude along the way: Watch well your wives, ye cits, we bring a blade, A bald-pate master of the wenching trade.[157] If this was the private life of the greatest Roman of the world, who, at the time of his death, was Pontifex Maximus, the supreme head of the Roman religion, what must have been the social life of the average citizen who delighted to style Cæsar the demigod while living and to worship him as divine, when dead? A thorough knowledge of the details of the most corrupt and abandoned state of society recorded in history may be had by a perusal of the Annals of Tacitus and the Satires of Juvenal. The Sixth Satire is a withering arraignment of Roman profligacy and wickedness. "To see the world in its worst estate," says Professor Jowett, "we turn to the age of the satirists and of Tacitus, when all the different streams of evil, coming from east, west, north, south, the vices of barbarism and the vices of civilization, remnants of ancient cults, and the latest refinements of luxury and impurity, met and mingled on the banks of the Tiber." Rome was the heart of the empire that pumped its filthy blood from the center to the extremities, and received from the provinces a return current of immorality and corruption. Juvenal complains that Long since the stream that wanton Syria laves, Has disembogued its filth in Tiber's waves. Grecian literature and manners were the main cause of Roman dissoluteness. The grandfather of Cicero is said to have made this declaration: "A Roman's wickedness increases in proportion to his acquaintance with Greek authors." It is undeniably true that the domestic immorality of the Greeks exercised a most baneful influence upon the social life of the Romans. Both at Athens and in Sparta marriage was regarded as the means to an end, the procreation of children as worshipers of the gods and citizens of the state. In this fundamental purpose were involved, the Greeks believed, the mission and the destiny of woman. Marriage was not so much a sacred institution, as it was a convenient arrangement whereby property rights were regulated and soldiers were provided for the army and the navy. This view was entertained by both the Athenians and the Spartans. The code of Lycurgus regulated the family relations to the end that healthy, vigorous children might be born to a military commonwealth. The Spartan maidens were required to exercise in the palestra, almost naked, in the presence of men and strangers. And so loose and extravagant were the ideas of conjugal fidelity among the Spartans that it was not regarded as an improper thing to borrow another man's wife for the purpose of procreating children, if there had already been born to the legitimate husband all the children that he desired. This we learn from Xenophon[158] and from Polybius,[159] who assure us that it often happened that as many as four Spartans had one woman, in common, for a wife. "Already in the time of Socrates, the wives of Sparta had reached the height of disrepute for their wantonness throughout the whole of Greece; Aristotle says that they lived in unbridled licentiousness; and, indeed, it is a distinctive feature in the female character there, that publicly and shamelessly they would speed a well-known seducer of a woman of rank by wishing him success, and charging him to think only of endowing Sparta with brave boys."[160] [Illustration: AVE CÆSAR! IO SATURNALIA (ALMA-TADEMA)] At Athens the principle was the same, even if the gratification of lust was surrounded with a halo of poetry and sentiment which the Spartan imagination was incapable of creating. The Athenians were guilty of a strange perversion of the social instincts by placing a higher appreciation upon the charms of a certain class of lewd women that they did upon the virtuous merits of their own wives and mothers. These latter were kept in retirement and denied the highest educational advantages; while the former, the Hetairai, beautiful and brilliant courtesans, destined for the pleasure and entertainment of illustrious men, were accorded the utmost freedom, as well as all the advantages of culture in the arts and sciences. Demosthenes has classified the women of ancient Athens in this sentence: "We have Hetairai for our pleasure, concubines for the ordinary requirements of the body, and wives for the procreation of lawful issue and as confidential domestic guardians." The most renowned of the Hetairai was Aspasia, the mistress of Pericles. She was exceedingly beautiful and brilliantly accomplished. At her house in Athens, poets, philosophers, statesmen, and sculptors frequently gathered to do her honor. Pericles is said to have wept only three times in life; and one of these was when he defended Aspasia before the dicastery of Athens against the charge of impiety. Another of the Hetairai scarcely less famous than Aspasia was the celebrated Athenian courtesan, Phryne. Praxiteles, the sculptor, was one of her adorers. She, too, was tried for impiety before the dicastery. Hiperides, the Attic orator, defended her. To create a favorable impression upon the court, he bade her reveal her bosom to the judges. She did so, and was acquitted. So great was the veneration in which Phryne was held that it was considered no profanation to place her image in the sacred temple at Delphi. And so overwhelming was her beauty, that her statues were identified with the Aphrodite of Apelles and the Cnidian goddess of Praxiteles. At Eleusis, on the occasion of a national festival, she impersonated Venus by entering naked into the waves, in the presence of spectators from all the cities of Greece. She is said to have amassed such a fortune that she felt justified in offering to build the walls of Thebes. Such was the esteem in which these elegant harlots were held, that we find recorded among their patrons on the pages of Greek history the names of Pericles, Demades, Lysias, Demosthenes, Isocrates, Aristotle, Aristippus, and Epicurus. So little odium attached to the occupation of this class of women that we read that Socrates frequently paid visits to one of them named Theodota and advised her as to the best method of gaining "friends" and keeping them.[161] As the sculptors did not hesitate to carve the images of the Hetairai in marble and give them the names of the goddesses of Olympus, so the poets, orators, and historians did not fail to immortalize them in their poems, orations, and annals. Greek statuary and literature were then transported to Italy to corrupt Roman manners. It was not long before adultery and seduction had completely poisoned and polluted every fountain of Roman private life. "Liaisons in the first houses," says Mommsen, "had become so frequent, that only a scandal altogether exceptional could make them the subject of special talk; a judicial interference seems now almost ridiculous." Roman women of patrician rank, not content with noblemen as lovers, sought out "lewd fellows of the baser sort" among slaves and gladiators, as companions of corrupt intrigues. Juvenal, in his Sixth Satire, paints a horrible picture of social depravity when he describes the lewdness of Messalina, the wife of Claudius I. This woman, the wife of an emperor, and the mother of the princely Britannicus, descends from the imperial bed, in the company of a single female slave, at the dead of night, to a common Roman brothel, assumes the name Lycisca, and submits to the embraces of the coarsest Roman debauchees. The degradation of women was not peculiar to the Capital of the empire, but extended to every province. Social impurity was rankest in the East, but it was present everywhere. Virtue seemed to have left the earth, and Vice had taken her place as the supreme mistress of the world. _Luxury and Extravagance._--At the birth of Christ, the frontiers of the Roman empire comprised all the territory of the then civilized world. In extending her conquests, Rome laid heavy tribute upon conquered nations. All the wealth of the earth flowed into her coffers. The result was unexampled luxury and extravagance. A single illustration will serve to show the mode of life of the wealthy Roman citizen of the time of which we write. Lucullus, the lieutenant of Sulla, and the friend of Cicero and Pompey, had amassed enormous wealth in the Mithradatic wars. This fortune he employed to inaugurate and maintain a style of social life whose splendor and extravagance were the astonishment and scandal of his age and race. The meals served upon his table, even when no guests were present, were marked by all the taste, elegance, and completeness of a banquet. On one occasion, when he happened to dine alone, the table was not arranged with the ordinary fullness and splendor; whereupon he made complaint to the servants, who replied that they did not think it necessary to prepare so completely when he was alone. "What! did you not know that Lucullus would dine with Lucullus?" was his answer. At another time, Cicero and Pompey met him in the Forum and requested that he take them with him to dine, as they desired to learn how his table was spread when no visitors were expected. Lucullus was embarrassed for a moment; but soon regained his composure, and replied that he would be delighted to have such distinguished Romans dine with him, but that he would like to have a day for preparation. They refused this request, however; nor would they consent that he send directions to his servants, as they desired to see how meals were served in his home when no guests were there. Lucullus then requested Cicero and Pompey to permit him to tell his servants, in their presence, in what room the repast should be served. They consented to this; and Lucullus then directed that the Hall of Apollo should be arranged for the dinner. Now the dining rooms in the home of Lucullus were graded in price; and it was only necessary to designate the room in order to notify the servants of the style and costliness of the entertainment desired. The Hall of Apollo called for an expenditure, at each meal, of fifty thousand drachmas, the equivalent of $10,000 in our money. And when Cicero and Pompey sat down at the table of Lucullus a few hours later, the decorations of the room and the feast spread before them, offered a spectacle of indescribable beauty and luxury. The epicure had outwitted the orator and the general. Other anecdotes related by Plutarch also illustrate the luxurious life of Lucullus. Once when Pompey was sick, his physician prescribed a thrush for his meal; whereupon Pompey's servants notified him that a thrush could not be secured in Italy during the summer time, except in the fattening coops of Lucullus. Cato despised the luxurious habits of Lucullus; and, on one occasion, when a young man was extolling the beauties of frugality and temperance in a speech before the senate, the Stoic interrupted him by asking: "How long do you mean to go on making money like Crassus, living like Lucullus and talking like Cato?"[162] Lucullus was not the only Roman of his day who spent fabulous sums of money in luxurious living and in building palatial residences. M. Lepidus, who was elected Consul in 87 B.C., erected the most magnificent private edifice ever seen in Rome. But the culmination of magnificence in Roman architecture was the Golden House of Nero. Its walls were covered with gold and studded with precious stones. The banquet rooms were decorated with gorgeous ceilings, and were so constructed that from them flowers and perfumes could be showered from above on the guests below. Concerning the luxurious life of the later days of the republic, Mommsen says: "Extravagant prices, as much as one hundred thousand sesterces (£1,000) were paid for an exquisite cook. Houses were constructed with special reference to this subject.... A dinner was already described as poor at which the fowls were served up to the guests entire, and not merely the choice portions.... At banquets, above all, the Romans displayed their hosts of slaves ministering to luxury, their bands of musicians, their dancing-girls, their elegant furniture, their carpets glittering with gold, or pictorially embroidered, their rich silver plate."[163] But the luxury and extravagance of the Romans were nowhere so manifest as in their public bathing establishments. "The magnificence of many of the thermæ and their luxurious arrangements were such that some writers, as Seneca, are quite lost in their descriptions of them. The piscinæ were often of immense size--that of Diocletian being 200 feet long--and were adorned with beautiful marbles. The halls were crowded with magnificent columns, and were ornamented with the finest pieces of statuary. The walls, it has been said, were covered with exquisite mosaics that imitated the art of the painter in their elegance of design and variety of color. The Egyptian syenite was encrusted with the precious green marbles of Numidia. The rooms contained the works of Phidias and Praxiteles. A perpetual stream of water was poured into capacious basins through the wide mouths of lions of bright and polished silver. 'To such a pitch of luxury have we reached,' says Seneca, 'that we are dissatisfied if we do not tread on gems in our baths.'"[164] The circuses were scarcely inferior to the baths in magnificence. Caligula is said to have strewn them with gold dust. The result of Roman luxury in the matter of food and drink was a coarse and loathsome gluttony which finds no parallel in modern life. Epicureanism had degenerated from barley-bread and water to the costliest diet ever known. Wealthy Romans of the age of Augustus did not hesitate to pay two hundred and fifty dollars for a single fish--the mullet. And that they might indulge their appetite to the fullest extent, and prolong the pleasures of eating beyond the requirements and even the capacity of nature, they were in the habit of taking an emetic at meal times. We learn from the letters of Cicero that Julius Cæsar did this on one occasion when he went to visit the orator at his country villa. And the degeneracy of Roman life is nowhere more clearly indicated than in the Fourth Satire of Juvenal where he describes the gathering of the great men of the state, at the call of Domitian, to determine how a turbot should be cooked. But the reader must not infer that all Romans were rich and that luxury was indulged in every home. In the Roman capital the extremes of wealth and poverty met. The city was filled with idlers, vagabonds and paupers from all quarters of the globe. In the early days of the Republic, sturdy farmers had tilled the soil of Italy and had filled the legions with brave and hardy warriors. The beginning of the empire witnessed a radical change. Hundreds of thousands of these farmers had been driven from their lands to furnish homes to the disbanded soldiers of conquerors like Sulla, Marius, and Cæsar. Homeless and poverty-stricken, they wandered away to Rome to swell the ranks of mendicants and adventurers that crowded the streets of the imperial city. The soldiers themselves, finding agriculture distasteful and unprofitable, sold their lands to Roman speculators, and returned to the scene of the triumphs of their military masters. The inevitable consequence of this influx of strangers and foreigners, without wealth and without employment, was the degradation and demoralization of Roman social and industrial life. Augustus was compelled to make annual donations of money and provisions to 200,000 persons who wandered helpless about the streets. This state of things--fabulous wealth in the hands of a few, and abject poverty as the lot of millions--was the harbinger sure and swift of the destruction of the state. _Slavery._--At the beginning of the Christian era, slavery existed in every province of the Roman empire. Nearly everywhere the number of slaves was much greater than that of the free citizens. In Attica, according to the census of Demetrius Phalereus, about the beginning of the fourth century B.C., there were 400,000 slaves, 10,000 foreign settlers, and 20,000 free citizens. Zumpt estimates that there were two slaves to every freeman in Rome in the year 5 B.C. It frequently happened that a wealthy Roman possessed as many as 20,000 slaves. Slaves who gained their freedom might themselves become masters and own slaves. During the reign of Augustus, a freedman died, leaving 4,116 slaves. Crassus possessed so many that his company of architects and carpenters alone exceeded 500 in number. The principal slave markets of Greece were those at Athens, Ephesus, Cyprus, and Samos. In the market place of each of these cities, slaves were exposed for sale upon wooden scaffolds. From the neck of each was hung a tablet or placard containing a description of his or her meritorious qualities, such as parentage, educational advantages, health and freedom from physical defects. They were required to strip themselves at the request of purchasers. In this way, the qualifications of slaves for certain purposes could be accurately judged. The vigorous, large-limbed Cappadocians, for instance, like our modern draft horses, were selected for their strength and their ability to lift heavy loads and endure long-continued work. The property of the master in the slave was absolute. The owner might kill or torture his slave at will. Neither the government nor any individual could bring him to account for it. Roman law compelled female slaves to surrender themselves, against their will, to their master's lust. All the coarseness and brutality of the haughty, arrogant, and merciless Roman disposition were manifested in the treatment of their slaves. Nowhere do we find any mercy or humanity shown them. On the farms they worked with chains about their limbs during the day; and at night they were lodged in the _ergastula_--subterranean apartments, badly lighted and poorly ventilated. The most cruel punishment awaited the slave who attempted to escape. The _fugitavarii_--professional slave chasers--ran him down, branded him on the forehead, and brought him back to his master. If the master was very rich, or cared little for the life of the slave, he usually commanded him to be thrown, as a punishment for his attempt to flee, to the wild beasts in the amphitheater. This cruel treatment was not exceptional, but was ordinary. Cato, the paragon among the Stoics, was so merciless in his dealings with his slaves that one of them committed suicide rather than await the hour of punishment for some transgression of which he was guilty.[165] It frequently happened that the slaves had knowledge of crimes committed by their masters. In such cases they were fortunate if they escaped death, as the probability of their becoming witnesses against their masters offered every inducement to put them out of the way. In his defense of Cluentius, Cicero speaks of a slave who had his tongue cut out to prevent his betraying his mistress.[166] If a slave murdered his master, all his fellow-slaves under the same roof were held responsible for the deed. Thus four hundred slaves were put to death for the act of one who assassinated Pedanius Secundus, during the reign of Nero.[167] Augustus had his steward, Eros, crucified on the mast of his ship because the slave had roasted and eaten a quail that had been trained for the royal quail-pit. Once a slave was flung to the fishes because he had broken a crystal goblet.[168] On another occasion, a slave was compelled to march around a banquet table, in the presence of the guests, with his hands, which had been cut off, hanging from his neck, because he had stolen some trifling article of silverware. Cicero, in his prosecution of Verres, recites an instance of mean and cowardly cruelty toward a slave. "At the time," he says, "in which L. Domitius was prætor in Sicily, a slave killed a wild boar of extraordinary size. The prætor, struck by the dexterity and courage of the man, desired to see him. The poor wretch, highly gratified with the distinction, came to present himself before the prætor, in hopes, no doubt, of praise and reward; but Domitius, on learning that he had only a javelin to attack and kill the boar, ordered him to be instantly crucified, under the barbarous pretext that the law prohibited the use of this weapon, as of all others, to slaves." The natural consequence of this cruel treatment was unbounded hatred of the master by the slave. "We have as many enemies," says Seneca, "as we have slaves." And what rendered the situation perilous was the numerical superiority of the slave over the free population. "They multiply at an immense rate," says Tacitus, "whilst freemen diminish in equal proportion." Pliny the Younger gave expression to the universal apprehension when he wrote: "By what dangers we are beset! No one is safe; not even the most indulgent, gentlest master." Precautionary measures were adopted from time to time both by individuals and by the government to prevent concerted action among the slaves and to conceal from them all evidences of their own strength. To keep down mutiny among his slaves, Cato is said to have constantly excited dissension and enmity among them. "It was once proposed," says Gibbon, "to discriminate the slaves by a peculiar habit; but it was justly apprehended that there might be some danger in acquainting them with their own numbers."[169] If the Roman masters maltreated and destroyed the bodies of their slaves, the slaves retaliated by corrupting and destroying the morals of their masters. The institution of slavery was one of the most potent agencies in the demoralization of ancient Roman manners. The education of children was generally confided to the slaves, who did not fail to poison their minds and hearts in many ways. In debauching their female slaves, the Roman masters polluted their own morals and corrupted their own manhood. The result teaches us that the law of physics is the law of morals: that action and reaction are equal, but in opposite directions. _Destruction of New-Born Infants._--The destruction of new-born children was the deepest stain upon the civilization of the ancient Greeks and Romans. In obedience to a provision of the code of Lycurgus, every Spartan child was exhibited immediately after birth to public view; and, if it was found to be deformed and weakly, so that it was unfit to grow into a strong and healthy citizen of the Spartan military commonwealth, it was exposed to perish on Mount Taygetus. The practice of exposing infants was even more arbitrary and cruel in Rome than in Greece. The Roman father was bound by no limitations; but could cast his offspring away to die, through pure caprice. Paulus, the celebrated jurist of the imperial period, admitted that this was a paternal privilege. Suetonius tells us that the day of the death of Germanicus, which took place A.D. 19, was signalized by the exposition of children who were born on that day.[170] This was done as a manifestation of general sorrow. The emperor Augustus banished his granddaughter Julia on account of her lewdness and licentiousness, as he had done in the case of his daughter, Julia. In exile, she gave birth to a child which Augustus caused to be exposed. It often happened that new-born babes that had been cast away to die of cold and hunger or to be devoured by dogs or wild beasts were rescued by miscreants who brought them up to devote them to evil purposes. The male children were destined to become gladiators, and the females were sold to houses of prostitution. Often such children were picked up by those who disfigured and deformed them for the purpose of associating them with themselves as beggars. The custom of exposing infants was born of the spirit of fierceness and barbarity that characterized many ancient races. Its direct tendency was to make savages of men by destroying those tender and humane feelings for the weak and helpless which have been the most marked attributes of modern civilizations. Occasionally in our day one hears or reads of a proposition by some pseudo-philanthropist that the good of the race demands the destruction of certain persons--deformed infants, imbecile adults and the like. But the humanity of the age invariably frowns upon such proposals. The benign and merciful features of our Christian creed would be outraged by such a practice. _Gladiatorial Games._--The combats of gladiators were the culmination of Roman barbarity and brutality. All the devotees of vice and crime met and mingled at the arena, and derived strength and inspiration from its bloody scenes. The gatherings in the amphitheater were miniatures of Roman life. There, political matters were discussed and questions of state determined, as was once the case in the public assemblies of the people. Now that the gates of Janus were closed for the third time in Roman history, the combats of the arena took the place, on a diminutive scale, of those battles by which Romans had conquered the world. The processions of the gladiators reminded the enthusiastic populace of the triumphal entries of their conquerors into the Roman capital. Nothing so glutted the appetite and quenched the thirst of a cruel and licentious race as the gorgeous ceremonials and bloody butchery of the gladiatorial shows. These contests, strange to say, first took place at funerals, and were intended to honor the dead. In 264 B.C., at the burial of D. Junius Brutus, we are told, three pairs of gladiators fought in the cattle market. Again, in 216 B.C., at the obsequies of M. Æmilius Lepidus, twenty-two pairs engaged in combat in the Forum. And, in 174 B.C., on the death of his father, Titus Flaminius caused seventy-four pairs to fight for three days.[171] It will thus be seen that the death of one Roman generally called for that of several others. In time, the fondness of these contests had grown so great that generals and statesmen arranged them on a gigantic scale as a means of winning the favor and support of the multitude. The Roman proletariat demanded not only bread to satisfy their hunger, but games to amuse them in their hours of idleness. Augustus not only gave money and rations to 200,000 idlers, but inaugurated gladiatorial shows in which 10,000 combatants fought. Not only men but wild beasts were brought into the arena. Pompey arranged a fight of 500 lions, 18 elephants and 410 other ferocious animals, brought from Africa. In a chase arranged by Augustus, A.D. 5, 36 crocodiles were killed in the Flaminian circus, which was flooded for the purpose. Caligula brought 400 bears into the arena to fight with an equal number of African wild animals. But all previous shows were surpassed in the magnificent games instituted by Trajan, A.D. 106, to celebrate his victories on the Danube. These games lasted four months; and, in them, 10,000 gladiators fought, and 11,000 beasts were slain. Such was the thirst for blood, and to such a pitch had the fury of the passions reached at the beginning of the empire that Romans were no longer satisfied with small fights by single pairs. They began to demand regular battles and a larger flow of blood. And to please the populace, Julius Cæsar celebrated his triumph by a real battle in the circus. On each side were arrayed 500 foot soldiers, 300 cavalrymen, and 20 elephants bearing soldiers in towers upon their backs. This was no mimic fray, but an actual battle in which blood was shed and men were killed. To vary the entertainment, Cæsar also arranged a sea fight. He caused a lake to be dug out on Mars Field, and placed battleships upon it which represented Tyrian and Egyptian fleets. These he caused to be manned by a thousand soldiers and 2,000 oarsmen. A bloody fight then ensued between men who had no other motive in killing each other than to furnish a Roman holiday. Augustus also arranged a sea fight upon an artificial lake where 3,000 men were engaged. But both these battles were eclipsed by the great sea fight which the emperor Claudius caused to be fought on Lake Fucinus, in the presence of a great multitude that lined the shore. Nineteen thousand men engaged in the bloody struggle. On an eminence overlooking the lake, the Empress Agrippina, in gorgeous costume, sat by the side of the emperor and watched the battle. Announcement of gladiatorial fights in the amphitheater was made by posters on the walls of the city. In these advertisements, the number and names of the fighters were announced. On the day of the performance a solemn procession of gladiators, walking in couples, passed through the streets to the arena. The arrangements of the building and the manner of the fights were so ordered as to arouse to the highest pitch of excitement the passions and expectations of the spectators. The citizens were required to wear the white toga. The lower rows of seats were occupied by senators, in whose midst were the boxes occupied by the imperial family. The equestrian order occupied places immediately above the senators. The citizens were seated next after the equestrians, and in the top-most rows, on benches, were gathered the Roman rabble. An immense party-colored awning, stretched above the multitude, reflected into the arena its variegated hues. Strains of music filled the air while preparations for the combat were being made. The atmosphere of the amphitheater was kept cool and fragrant by frequent sprays of perfume. The regular combat was preceded by a mock fight with blunt weapons. Then followed arrangements for the life-and-death struggle. The manager of the games finally gave the command, and the fight was on. When one of the gladiators was wounded, the words "hoc habet" were shouted. The wounded man fell to the earth, dropped his weapon, and, holding up his forefinger, begged his life from the people. If mercy was refused him, he was compelled to renew the combat or to submit to the death stroke of his antagonist. Attendants were at hand with hot irons to apply to the victim to see that death was not simulated. If life was not extinct, the fallen gladiator was dragged out to the dead room, and there dispatched. Servants then ran into the arena and scattered sand over the blood-drenched ground. Other fighters standing in readiness, immediately rushed in to renew the contest. Thus the fight went on until the Roman populace was glutted with butchery and blood. Gladiators were chosen from the strongest and most athletic among slaves and condemned criminals. Thracians, Gauls, and Germans were captured and enslaved for the purpose of being sacrificed in the arena. They were trained with the greatest care in gladiatorial schools. The most famous of these institutions was at Capua in Italy. It was here that Spartacus, a young Thracian, of noble ancestry, excited an insurrection that soon spread throughout all Italy and threatened the destruction of Rome. Addressing himself to seventy of his fellow-gladiators, Spartacus is said to have made a bitter and impassioned speech in which he proposed that, if they must die, they should die fighting their enemies and not themselves; that, if they were to engage in bloody battles, these battles should be fought under the open sky in behalf of life and liberty, and not in the amphitheater to furnish pastime and entertainment to their masters and oppressors. The speech had its effect. The band of fighters broke out of Capua, and took refuge in the crater of Mount Vesuvius (73 B.C.). Spartacus became the leader, with Crixus and Oenomaus, two Celtic gladiators, as lieutenants. Their ranks soon swelled to the proportions of an army, through accessions of slaves and desperadoes from the neighborhood of the volcano. During two years, they terrorized all Italy, defeated two consuls, and burned many cities. Crixus was defeated and killed at Mount Gargarus in Apulia by the prætor Arrius. Spartacus compelled three hundred Roman prisoners, whom he had captured, to fight as gladiators, following Roman custom, at the grave of his fallen comrade and lieutenant. Finally, he himself was slain, sword in hand, having killed two centurions before he fell. With the death of their leaders, the insurgents either surrendered or fled. Those who were captured were crucified. It is said that the entire way from Capua to Rome was marked by crosses on which their bodies were suspended, to the number of ten thousand.[172] Throughout Italy were amphitheaters for gladiatorial games. But the largest and most celebrated of all was the Coliseum at Rome. Its ruins are still standing. It was originally called the Flavian Amphitheater. This vast building was begun A.D. 72, upon the site of the reservoir of Nero, by the emperor Vespasian, who built as far as the third row of arches, the last two rows being finished by Titus after his return from the conquest of Jerusalem. It is said that twelve thousand captive Jews were employed in this work, as the Hebrews were employed in building the Pyramids of Egypt, and that the external walls alone cost nearly four millions of dollars. It consists of four stories: the first, Doric; the second, Ionic; the third and fourth, Corinthian. Its circumference is nearly two thousand feet; its length, six hundred and twenty feet; and its width, five hundred and thirteen. The entrance for the emperor was between two arches facing the Esquiline, where there was no cornice. The arena was surrounded by a wall sufficiently high to protect the spectators from the wild beasts, which were introduced by subterranean passages, closed by huge gates from the side. The Amphitheater is said to have been capable of seating eighty-seven thousand people, and was inaugurated by gladiatorial games that lasted one hundred days, and in which five thousand beasts were slain. The emperor Commodus himself fought in the Coliseum, and killed both gladiators and wild beasts. He insisted on calling himself Hercules, was dressed in a lion's skin, and had his hair sprinkled with gold dust. [Illustration: THE DYING GLADIATOR (ANTIQUE SCULPTURE)] An oriental monk, Talemachus, was so horrified at the sight of the gladiatorial games, that he rushed into the midst of the arena, and besought the spectators to have them stopped. Instead of listening to him, they put him to death. The first martyrdom in the Coliseum was that of St. Ignatius, said to have been the child especially blessed by our Savior, the disciple of John, and the companion of Polycarp, who was sent to Rome from Antioch when he was bishop. When brought into the arena, St. Ignatius knelt down and exclaimed: "Romans who are here present, know that I have not been brought into this place for any crime, but in order that by this means I may merit the fruition of the glory of God, for love of whom I have been made a prisoner. I am as the grain of the field and must be ground by the teeth of the lions that I may become bread fit for His table." The lions were then let loose, and devoured him, except the larger bones which the Christians collected during the night. The spot where the Christian martyrs suffered was for a long time marked by a tall cross devoutly kissed by the faithful. The Pulpit of the Coliseum was used for the stormy sermons of Gavazzi, who called the people to arms from thence in the Revolution of March, 1848. _Græco-Roman Social Depravity, Born of Religion and Traceable to the Gods._--The modern mind identifies true religion with perfect purity of heart and with boundless love. "Do unto others as you would have others do unto you" is the leading aphorism of both the Hebrew and Christian faiths. The Sermon on the Mount is the chart of the soul on the sea of life; and its beatitudes are the glorifications of the virtues of meekness, mercy, and peace. To the mind imbued with the divine precepts of the Savior, it seems incredible that religion should have ever been the direct source of crime and sin. It is, nevertheless, a well-established fact that the Roman and Greek mythologies were the potent causes of political corruption and social impurity in both Italy and Greece. Nothing better illustrates this truth than the abominable practice that found its inspiration and excuse in the myth of the rape of Ganymede. The guilty passion of Zeus for the beautiful boy whom he, himself, in the form of an eagle, had snatched up from earth and carried away to Olympus to devote to shameful and unnatural uses, was the foundation, in Greece, of the most loathsome habit that ever disgraced the conduct of men. Passionate fondness for beautiful boys, called paiderastia in Greek, termed sodomy in modern criminal law, was the curse and infamy of both Roman and Grecian life. This unnatural vice was not confined to the vulgar and degenerate. Men of letters, poets, statesmen and philosophers, debased themselves with this form of pollution. It was even legalized by the laws of Crete and Sparta. Polybius tells us that many Romans paid as much as a talent ($1,000) for a beautifully formed youth. This strange perversion of the sexual instincts was marked by all the tenderness and sweetness of a modern courtship or a honeymoon. The victim of this degrading and disgusting passion treated the beautiful boy with all the delicacy and feeling generally paid a newly wedded wife. Kisses and caresses were at times showered upon him. At other times, he became an object of insane jealousy. An obscene couplet in Suetonius attributes this filthy habit to Julius Cæsar in the matter of an abominable relationship with the King of Bithynia.[173] "So strong was the influence of the prevalent epidemic on Plato, that he had lost all sense of the love of women, and in his descriptions of Eros, divine as well as human, his thoughts were centered only in his boy passion. The result in Greece confessedly was that the inclination for a woman was looked upon as low and dishonorable, while that for a youth was the only one worthy of a man of education."[174] A moment's reflection will convince the most skeptical of the progress of morality and the advance of civilization. That which philosophers and emperors not only approved but practiced in the palmiest days of the commonwealths of Greece and Rome, is to-day penalized; and the person guilty of the offense is socially ostracized and branded with infamy and contempt. The above is only one of many illustrations of the demoralizing influence of the myths. The Greeks looked to the gods as models of behavior, and could see nothing wrong in paiderastia, since both Zeus and Apollo had practiced it. Nearly every crime committed by the Greeks and Romans was sought to be excused on the ground that the gods had done the same thing. Euthyphro justified mistreatment of his own father on the ground that Zeus had chased Cronos, his father, from the skies. Homer was not only the Bible, but the schoolbook of Grecian boys and girls throughout the world; and their minds were saturated at an early age with the escapades of the gods and goddesses as told by the immortal bard. Plato, in the "Republic," deprecates the influence of the Homeric myths upon the youth of Greece, when he says: "They are likely to have a bad effect on those who hear them; for everybody will begin to excuse his own vices when he is convinced that similar wickednesses are always being perpetrated by the kindred of the gods." And Seneca thus condemns the moral effect of the myth of Zeus and Alcmene: "What else is this appeal to the precedent of the gods for, but to inflame our lusts, and to furnish a free license and excuse for the corrupt act under shelter of its divine prototype?" "This," says the same author in another treatise, "has led to no other result than to deprive sin of its shame in man's eyes, when he saw that the gods were no better than himself." We have seen that, in the matter of the multiplicity of the gods, there were deities of the baser as well as of the better passions, and of criminal as well as virtuous propensities. Pausanias tells us that in his day, on the road to Pellene, there were statues of Hermes Dolios (the cheat), and that the worshipers of this god believed that he was always ready to help them in their intrigues and adventures. The same writer also tells us that young maidens of Troezene dedicated their girdles to Athene Apaturia, the deceiver, for having cunningly betrayed Æthra into the hands of Neptune. The festivals of Bacchus were far-famed in ancient times for the drunken debauches and degrading ceremonies that accompanied them. The Attic feasts of Pan were celebrated with every circumstance of low buffoonery. The solemnities of the Aphrodisia were akin to the bacchanalian orgies in all the features of inebriety and lust. The name of the goddess of love and beauty was blazoned across the portal of more than one Greek and Roman brothel. The Aphrodite-Lamia at Athens and the Aphrodite-Stratonikis at Smyrna were the favorite resorts of the most famous courtesans of antiquity. Venus was the recognized goddess of the harlots. A thousand of them guarded her temple at Corinth; and, when an altar was erected to her at the Colline gate in Rome, in the year 183 A.U.C., they celebrated a great feast in her honor, and dedicated chaplets of myrtle and roses, as a means of obtaining her favor as the guardian divinity of their calling. What more could be expected, then, of the morality of the Greeks and Romans, when we consider the nature of their religion and the character of their gods? Jupiter and Apollo were notorious rakes and libertines; Venus and Flora were brazen-faced courtesans; Harmonia was a Phrygian dancer, who had been seduced by Cadmus; Hercules was a gladiator; Pan was a buffoon; Bacchus was a drunkard, and Mercury was a highway robber. And not only in the poems of Homer and Hesiod did the Greek and Roman youth learn these things, but from the plays of the theaters and from plastic art as well. If we except the gladiatorial fights in the amphitheaters, nothing was more cruel and unchaste than Greek and Roman tragedy and comedy. At the time of Christ, the tastes and appetites of the multitude had grown so fierce and depraved that ordinary spectacles were regarded as commonplace and insipid. Lifelike realities were demanded from the actors on the stage; and accordingly, the hero who played the rôle of the robber chief, Laureolus, was actually crucified before the spectators, and was then torn to pieces by a hungry bear. The burning of Hercules on Mount Oeta and the emasculation of Atys were sought to be realized on the stage by the actual burning and emasculation of condemned criminals. Lustful as well as cruel appetites were inflamed and fed by theatrical representations of the intrigues and adventures of the gods and goddesses. Pantomimes and mimic dances, with flute accompaniment, were employed to reproduce the amours and passionate devotions of the inhabitants of Olympus. The guilty loves of Aphrodite with Mars and Adonis, the adventures of Jupiter and Apollo with the wives and daughters of mortals, were the plays most frequently presented and most wildly applauded. And the ignorant rabble were not the only witnesses of these spectacles. "The sacerdotal colleges and authorities," says Arnobius, "flamens, and augurs, and chaste vestals, all have seats at these public amusements. There are seated the collective people and senate, consuls and consulars, while Venus, the mother of the Roman race, is danced to the life, and in shameless mimicry is represented as reveling through all the phases of meretricious lust. The great mother, too, is danced; the Dindymene of Pessinus, in spite of her age, surrendering herself to disgusting passion in the embraces of a cowherd. The supreme ruler of the world is himself brought in, without respect to his name or majesty, to play the part of an adulterer, masking himself in order to deceive chaste wives, and take the place of their husbands in the nuptial bed."[175] Not only gladiatorial games and theatrical shows, but painting and sculpture as well, served to corrupt and demoralize Roman and Greek manners. Nor is there any prudery in this statement. The masterpieces of the Greek artists have been the astonishment and despair of all succeeding ages; and the triumphs of modern art have been but poor imitations of the models of the first masters. But it is, nevertheless, true that the embodiment in marble of certain obscene myths was destructive of ancient morals. The paintings in the temples and houses of the cities of Greece and Italy were a constant menace to the mental purity of those who gazed upon them. The statue of Ganymede at the side of Zeus was a perpetual reminder to the youth of Athens of the originator of the loathsome custom of paiderastia. The paintings of Leda and the swan, of the courtship of Dionysus and Ariadne, of the naked Aphrodite ensnared and caught in the net with Ares that adorned the walls and ceilings of Greek and Roman homes, were not too well calculated to inspire pure and virtuous thoughts in the minds and hearts of tender youths and modest maidens who looked upon and contemplated them. At Athens, especially, was the corrupting influence of painting and plastic art most deeply felt. "At every step," says Döllinger, "which a Greek or Roman took, he was surrounded by images of his gods and memorials of their mythic history. Not the temples only, but streets and public squares, house walls, domestic implements and drinking vessels, were all covered and incrusted with ornaments of the kind. His eye could rest nowhere, not a piece of money could he take into his hand without confronting a god. And in this way, through the magical omnipresence of plastic art, the memory of his gods had sunk into his soul indelibly, grown up with every operation of his intellect, and inseparably blended with every picture of his imagination."[176] It can thus be easily imagined how close the connection between the social depravity and the religion of the Greeks and Romans. What was right in the conduct of the gods, men could not deem sinful in their own behavior. Indeed, lewd and lascivious acts were frequently proclaimed not only right, but sacred, because they had been both sanctioned and committed by the gods themselves. "As impurity," says Döllinger, "formed a part of religion, people had no scruples in using the temple and its adjoining buildings for the satisfaction of their lust. The construction of many of the temples and the prevalent gloom favored this. 'It is a matter of general notoriety,' Tertullian says, 'that the temples are the very places where adulteries were arranged, and procuresses pursue their victims between the altars.' In the chambers of the priests and ministers of the temple, impurity was committed amid clouds of incense; and this, Minucius adds, more frequently than in the privileged haunts of this sin. The sanctuaries and priests of Isis at Rome were specially notorious in this respect. 'As this Isis was the concubine of Jove herself, she also makes prostitutes of others,' Ovid said. Still more shameful sin was practiced in the temples of the Pessinuntine mother of the gods, where men prostituted themselves and made a boast of their shame afterwards."[177] _The Bacchanalian Orgies._--The most interesting passage of ancient literature dealing with social life in its relation to religious observances, is an extract from Livy, the most elegant of Roman historians. This passage describes the bacchanalian orgies, and gives exquisite touches to certain phases of ancient Roman social life. Its insertion here entire is excused on the ground of its direct bearing upon the subject matter of this chapter: A Greek of mean condition came, first, into Etruria; not with one of the many trades which his nation, of all others the most skilful in the cultivation of the mind and body, has introduced among us, but a low operator in sacrifices, and a soothsayer; nor was he one who, by open religious rites, and by publicly professing his calling and teaching, imbued the minds of his followers with terror, but a priest of secret and nocturnal rites. These mysterious rites were, at first, imparted to a few, but afterwards communicated to great numbers, both men and women. To their religious performances were added the pleasures of wine and feasting, to allure a greater number of proselytes. When wine, lascivious discourse, night, and the intercourse of the sexes had extinguished every sentiment of modesty, then debaucheries of every kind began to be practiced, as every person found at hand that sort of enjoyment to which he was disposed by the passion predominant in his nature. Nor were they confined to one species of vice--the promiscuous intercourse of free-born men and women, but from this store-house of villany proceeded false witnesses, counterfeit seals, false evidences, and pretended discoveries. From the same place, too, proceeded poison and secret murders, so that in some cases, even the bodies could not be found for burial. Many of their audacious deeds were brought about by treachery, but most of them by force; it served to conceal the violence, that on account of the loud shouting, and the noise of drums and cymbals, none of the cries uttered by the persons suffering violation or murder could be heard abroad. [Illustration: READING FROM HOMER (ALMA-TADEMA)] The infection of this mischief, like that from the contagion of disease, spread from Etruria to Rome; where, the size of the city affording greater room for such evils, and more means of concealment, cloaked it at first; but information of it was at length brought to the consul, Postumius, principally in the following manner. Publius Æbutius, whose father had held equestrian rank in the army, was left an orphan, and his guardians dying, he was educated under the eye of his mother Duronia, and his stepfather Titus Sempronius Rutilus. Duronia was entirely devoted to her husband; and Sempronius, having managed the guardianship in such a manner that he could not give an account of the property, wished that his ward should be either made away with, or bound to compliance with his will by some strong tie. The Bacchanalian rites were the only way to effect the ruin of the youth. His mother told him, that, "During his sickness, she had made a vow for him, that if he should recover, she would initiate him among the Bacchanalians; that being, through the kindness of the gods, bound by this vow, she wished now to fulfil it; that it was necessary he should preserve chastity for ten days, and on the tenth, after he should have supped and washed himself, she would conduct him into the place of worship." There was a freedwoman called Hispala Fecenia, a noted courtesan, but deserving of a better lot than the mode of life to which she had been accustomed when very young, and a slave, and by which she had maintained herself since her manumission. As they lived in the same neighborhood, an intimacy subsisted between her and Æbutius, which was far from being injurious either to the young man's character or property; for he had been loved and wooed by her unsolicited; and as his friends supplied his wants illiberally, he was supported by the generosity of this woman; nay, to such a length did she go under the influence of her affection, that, on the death of her patron, because she was under the protection of no one, having petitioned the tribunes and prætors for a guardian, when she was making her will, she constituted Æbutius her sole heir. As such pledges of mutual love subsisted, and as neither kept anything secret from the other, the young man jokingly bid her not be surprised if he separated himself from her for a few nights, as, "on account of a religious duty, to discharge a vow made for his health, he intended to be initiated among the Bacchanalians." On hearing this, the woman, greatly alarmed, cried out, "May the gods will more favorably!" affirming that "It would be better, both for him and her, to lose their lives than that he should do such a thing:" she then imprecated curses, vengeance, and destruction on the head of those who advised him to such a step. The young man, surprised both at her expressions and at the violence of her alarm, bid her refrain from curses, for "it was his mother who ordered him to do so, with the approbation of his stepfather." "Then," said she, "your stepfather (for perhaps it is not allowable to censure your mother), is in haste to destroy, by that act, your chastity, your character, your hopes and your life." To him, now surprised by such language, and inquiring what was the matter, she said, (after imploring the favor and pardon of the gods and goddesses, if, compelled by her regard for him, she disclosed what ought not to be revealed), that "when in service, she had gone into that place of worship, as an attendant on her mistress, but that, since she had obtained her liberty, she had never once gone near it: that she knew it to be the receptacle of all kinds of debaucheries; that it was well known that, for two years past, no one older than twenty had been initiated there. When any person was introduced he was delivered as a victim to the priests, who led him away to a place resounding with shouts, the sound of music, and the beating of cymbals and drums, lest his cries while suffering violation, should be heard abroad." She then entreated and besought him to put an end to that matter in some way or other, and not to plunge himself into a situation, where he must first suffer, and afterwards commit, everything that was abominable. Nor did she quit him until the young man gave her his promise to keep himself clear of those rites. When he came home, and his mother made mention of such things pertaining to the ceremony as were to be performed on that day, and on the several following days, he told her that he would not perform any of them, nor did he intend to be initiated. His stepfather was present at this discourse. Immediately the woman observed that "he could not deprive himself of the company of Hispala for ten nights; that he was so fascinated by the caresses and baneful influence of that serpent, that he retained no respect for his mother or stepfather, or even the gods themselves." His mother on one side and his stepfather on the other loading him with reproaches, drove him out of the house, assisted by four slaves. The youth on this repaired to his aunt Æbutia, told her the reason of his being turned out by his mother, and the next day, by her advice, gave information of the affair to the consul Postumius, without any witnesses of the interview. The consul dismissed him, with an order to come again on the third day following. In the meantime, he inquired of his mother-in-law, Sulpicia, a woman of respectable character, "whether she knew an old matron called Æbutia, who lived on the Aventine hill?" When she had answered that "she knew her well, and that Æbutia was a woman of virtue, and of the ancient purity of morals;" he said that he required a conference with her, and that a messenger should be sent for her to come. Æbutia, on receiving the message, came to Sulpicia's house, and the consul, soon after, coming in, as if by accident, introduced a conversation about Æbutius, her brother's son. The tears of the woman burst forth, and she began to lament the unhappy lot of the youth: who after being robbed of his property by persons whom it least of all became, was then residing with her, being driven out of doors by his mother, because, being a good youth (may the gods be propitious to him), he refused to be initiated in ceremonies devoted to lewdness, as report goes. The consul thinking that he had made sufficient inquiries concerning Æbutius, and that his testimony was unquestionable, having dismissed Æbutia, requested his mother-in-law to send again to the Aventine, and bring from that quarter Hispala, a freedwoman, not unknown in that neighborhood; for there were some queries which he wished to make of her. Hispala being alarmed because she was being sent for by a woman of such high rank and respectable character, and being ignorant of the cause, after she saw the lictors in the porch, the multitude attending to the consul and the consul himself, was very near fainting. The consul led her into the retired part of the house, and, in the presence of his mother-in-law, told her, that she need not be uneasy, if she could resolve to speak the truth. She might receive a promise of protection either from Sulpicia, a matron of such dignified character, or from himself. That she ought to tell him, what was accustomed to be done at the Bacchanalia, in the nocturnal orgies in the grove of Stimula. When the woman heard this, such terror and trembling of all her limbs seized her, that for a long time she was unable to speak; but recovering at length she said, that "when she was very young, and a slave, she had been initiated, together with her mistress; but for several years past, since she had obtained her liberty, she knew nothing of what was done there." The consul commended her so far, as not having denied that she was initiated, but charged her to explain all the rest with the same sincerity; and told her, affirming that she knew nothing further, that "there would not be the same tenderness or pardon extended to her, if she should be convicted by another person, and one who had made a voluntary confession; that there was such a person, who had heard the whole from her, and had given him a full account of it." The woman, now thinking without a doubt that it must certainly be Æbutius who had discovered the secret, threw herself at Sulpicia's feet, and at first began to beseech her, "not to let the private conversation of a freedwoman with her lover be turned not only into a serious business, but even capital charge;" declaring that "she had spoken of such things merely to frighten him, and not because she knew anything of the kind." On this Postumius, growing angry, said "she seemed to imagine that then too she was wrangling with her gallant Æbutius, and not that she was speaking in the house of a most respectable matron, and to a consul." Sulpicia raised her, terrified, from the ground, and while she encouraged her to speak out, at the same time pacified her son-in-law's anger. At length she took courage, and, having censured severely the perfidy of Æbutius, because he had made such a return for the extraordinary kindness shown to him in that very instance, she declared that "she stood in great dread of the gods, whose secret mysteries she was to divulge; and in much greater dread of the men implicated, who would tear her asunder with their hands if she became an informer. Therefore she entreated this favor of Sulpicia, and likewise of the consul, that they would send her away some place out of Italy, where she might pass the remainder of her life in safety." The consul desired her to be of good spirits, and said that it should be his care that she might live securely in Rome. Hispala then gave a full account of the origin of the mysteries. "At first," she said, "those rites were performed by women. No man used to be admitted. They had three stated days in the year on which such persons were initiated among the Bacchanalians, in the daytime. The matrons used to be appointed priestesses, in rotation. Paculla Minia, a Campanian, when priestess, made an alteration in every particular as if by the direction of the gods. For she first introduced men, who were her own sons, Minucius and Herrenius, both surnamed Cerrinius; changed the time of celebration, from day to night; and, instead of three days in the year, appointed five days of initiation in each month. From the time that the rites were thus made common, and men were intermixed with women, and the licentious freedom of the night was added, there was nothing wicked, nothing flagitious, that had not been practiced among them. There were more frequent pollution of men, with each other, than with women. If any were less patient in submitting to dishonor, or more averse to the commission of vice, they were sacrificed as victims. To think nothing unlawful, was the grand maxim of their religion. The men, as if bereft of reason, uttered predictions, with frantic contortions of their bodies; the women, in the habit of Bacchantes, with their hair dishevelled, and carrying blazing torches, ran down to the Tiber; where, dipping their torches in the water, they drew them up again with the flame unextinguished, being composed of native sulphur and charcoal. They said that those men were carried off by the gods, whom the machines laid hold of and dragged from their view into secret caves. These were such as refused to take the oath of the society or to associate in their crimes, or to submit to defilement. Their number was exceedingly great now, almost a second state in themselves and among them were many men and women of noble families. During the last two years it had been a rule, that no person above the age of twenty should be initiated, for they sought for people of such age as made them more liable to suffer deception and personal abuse." When she had completed her information, she again fell at the consul's knees, and repeated the same entreaties, that he might send her out of the country. The consul requested his mother-in-law to clear some part of the house, into which Hispala might remove; accordingly an apartment was assigned her in the upper part of it, of which the stairs, opening into the street, were stopped up, and the entrance made from the inner court. Thither all Fecenia's effects were immediately removed, and her domestics sent for. Æbutius, also, was ordered to remove to the house of one of the consul's clients. When both the informers were by these means in his power, Postumius represented the affair to the senate, laying before them the whole circumstance, in due order; the information given to him at first, and the discoveries gained by his inquiries afterwards. Great consternation seized on the senators; not only on the public account, lest such conspiracies and nightly meetings might be productive of secret treachery and mischief, but, likewise, on account of their own particular families, lest some of their relations might be involved in this infamous affair. The senate voted, however, that thanks should be given to the consul because he had investigated the matter with singular diligence, and without exciting any alarm. They then commit to the consuls the holding an inquiry, out of the common course, concerning the Bacchanals and their nocturnal orgies. They ordered them to take care that the informers, Æbutius and Fecenia, might suffer no injury on that account; and to invite other informers in the matter, by offering rewards. They ordered that the officials in those rites, whether men or women, should be sought for, not only at Rome, but also throughout all the market towns and places of assembly, and be delivered over to the power of the consuls; and also that proclamation should be made in the city of Rome, and published through all Italy, that "no persons initiated in the Bacchanalian rites should presume to come together or assemble on account of those rites, or to perform any such kind of worship;" and above all, that search should be made for those who had assembled or conspired for personal abuse, or for any other flagitious practices. The senate passed these decrees. The consuls directed the curule ædiles to make strict inquiry after all the priests of those mysteries, and to keep such as they could apprehend in custody until their trial; they at the same time charged the plebeian ædiles to take care that no religious ceremonies should be performed in private. To the capital triumvirs the task was assigned to post watches in proper places in the city, and to use vigilance in preventing any meetings by night. In order likewise to guard against fires, five assistants were joined to the triumvirs, so that each might have the charge of the buildings in his own separate district, on this side the Tiber. After despatching these officers to their several employments, the consuls mounted the rostrum; and, having summoned an assembly of the people, one of the consuls, when he had finished the solemn form of prayer which the magistrates are accustomed to pronounce before they address the people, proceeded thus: "Romans, to no former assembly was this solemn supplication to the gods more suitable or even more necessary: as it serves to remind you, that these are the deities whom your forefathers pointed out as the objects of your worship, veneration and prayers: and not those which infatuated men's minds with corrupt and foreign modes of religion, and drove them, as if goaded by the furies, to every lust and every vice. I am at a loss to know what I should conceal, or how far I ought to speak out; for I dread lest, if I leave you ignorant of any particular, I should give room for carelessness, or if I disclose the whole, that I should too much awaken your fears. Whatever I shall say, be assured that it is less than the magnitude and atrociousness of the affair would justify: exertions will be used by us that it may be sufficient to set us properly on our guard. That the Bacchanalian rites have subsisted for some time past in every country in Italy, and are at present performed in many parts of this city also, I am sure you must have been informed, not only by report, but by the nightly noises and the horrid yells that resound through the whole city; but still you are ignorant of the nature of that business. Part of you think it is some kind of worship of the gods; others, some excusable sport and amusement, and that whatever it may be, it concerns but a few. As regards the number if I tell you that there are many thousands, that you would be immediately terrified to excess is a necessary consequence; unless I further acquaint you who and what sort of persons they are. First, then, a great part of them are women, and this was the source of the evil; the rest are males, but nearly resembling women; actors and pathics in the vilest lewdness; night revellers, driven frantic by wine, noise of instruments, and clamors. The conspiracy, as yet, has no strength; but it has abundant means of acquiring strength, for they are becoming more numerous every day. Your ancestors would not allow that you should ever assemble casually without some good reason; that is, either when the standard was erected on the Janiculum, and the army led out on occasion of elections; or when the tribunes proclaimed a meeting of the commons, or some of the magistrates summoned you to it. And they judged it necessary, that wherever a multitude was, there should be a lawful governor of that multitude present. Of what kind do you suppose are the meetings of these people? In the first place, held in the night, and in the next, composed promiscuously of men and women. If you knew at what ages the males are initiated, you would feel not only pity, but also shame for them. Romans, can you think youths initiated, under such oaths as theirs, are fit to be made soldiers? That arms should be intrusted with wretches brought out of that temple of obscenity? Shall these, contaminated with their own foul debaucheries and those of others, be champions for the chastity of your wives and children? "But the mischief were less, if they were only effeminated by their practices; or that the disgrace would chiefly affect themselves; if they refrained their hands from outrage, and their thoughts from fraud. But never was there in the state an evil of so great magnitude, or one that extended to so many persons or so many acts of wickedness. Whatever deeds of villany have, during late years been committed through lust; whatever through fraud; whatever through violence; they have all, be assured, proceeded from that association alone. They have not yet perpetrated all the crimes for which they combine. The impious assembly at present confines itself to outrages on private citizens; because it has not yet acquired force sufficient to crush the commonwealth: but the evil increases and spreads daily; it is already too great for the private ranks of life to contain it, and aims its views at the body of the state. Unless you take timely precautions, Romans, their nightly assembly may become as large as this, held in open day and legally summoned by a consul. Now they one by one dread you collected together in the assembly; presently, when you shall have separated and retired to your several dwellings, in town and country, they will again come together, and will hold a consultation on the means of their own safety, and, at the same time, of your destruction. Thus united, they will cause terror to every one of you. Each of you therefore, ought to pray that his kindred may have behaved with wisdom and prudence; and if lust, if madness, has dragged any of them into that abyss, to consider such a person as the relation of those with whom he has conspired for every disgraceful and reckless act, and not as one of your own. I am not secure, lest some even of yourselves may have erred through mistake; for nothing is more deceptive in appearance than false religion. When the authority of the gods is held out as a pretext to cover vice, fear enters our minds, lest in punishing the crimes of men, we may violate some divine right connected therewith. Numberless decisions of the pontiffs, decrees of the senate, and even answers of the aruspices, free you from religious scruples of this character. How often in the ages of our fathers was it given in charge to the magistrates, to prohibit the performances of any foreign religious rites; to banish strolling sacrificers and soothsayers from the Forum, the circus and the city; to search for and burn books of divination; and to abolish every mode of sacrificing that was not conformable to the Roman practice! For they, completely versed in every divine and human law, maintained that nothing tended so strongly to the subversion of religion as sacrifice, when we offered it not after the institutions of our forefathers, but after foreign customs. Thus much I thought necessary to mention to you beforehand, that no vain scruple might disturb your minds when you should see us demolishing the places resorted to by the Bacchanalians, and dispersing their impious assemblies. We shall do all these things with the favor and approbation of the gods; who, because they were indignant that their divinity was dishonored by those people's lust and crimes, have drawn forth their proceedings from hidden darkness into the open light; and who have directed them to be exposed, not that they may escape with impunity, but in order that they may be punished and suppressed. The senate have committed to me and my colleague, an inquisition extraordinary concerning that affair. What is requisite to be done by ourselves, in person, we will do with energy. The charge of posting watches through the city, during the night, we have committed to the inferior magistrates; and, for your parts, it is incumbent on you to execute vigorously whatever duties are assigned you, and in the several places where each will be placed, to perform whatever orders you shall receive, and to use your best endeavors that no danger or tumult may arise from the treachery of the party involved in the guilt." They then ordered the decrees of the senate to be read, and published a reward for any discoverer who should bring any of the guilty before them, or give information against any of the absent, adding, that "if any person accused should fly, they would limit a certain day upon which, if he did not answer when summoned, he would be condemned in his absence; and if anyone should be charged who was out of Italy, they would not allow him any longer time, if he should wish to come and make his defence." They then issued an edict, that "no person whatever should presume to buy or sell anything for the purpose of leaving the country; or to receive or conceal, or by any means aid the fugitives." On the assembly being dismissed, great terror spread throughout the city; nor was it confined merely within the walls, or to the Roman territory, for everywhere throughout the whole of Italy alarm began to be felt--when the letters from the guest-friends were received--concerning the decree of the senate, and what passed in the assembly and the edict of the consuls. During the night, which succeeded the day in which the affair was made public, great numbers attempting to fly, were seized and bought back by the triumvirs, who had posted guards at all the gates; and informations were lodged against many, some of whom, both men and women, put themselves to death. Above seven thousand men and women are said to have taken the oath of the association. But it appeared that the heads of the conspiracy were the two Catinii, Marcus and Caius, Roman plebeians; Lucius Opiturnius, a Faliscian; and Minius Cerrinius, a Campanian: that from these proceeded all their criminal practices, and that these were the chief priests and founders of the sect. Care was taken that they should be apprehended as soon as possible. They were brought before the consuls, and confessing their guilt, caused no delay to the ends of justice. But so great were the numbers that fled from the city, that because the lawsuits and property of many persons were going to ruin, the prætors, Titius Mænius and Marcus Licinius were obliged, under the direction of the senate, to adjourn their courts for thirty days until the inquiries should be finished by the consuls. The same deserted state of the law courts, since the persons against whom charges were brought did not appear to answer, nor could be found in Rome, necessitated the consuls to make a circuit of the country towns, and there to make their inquisitions and hold the trials. Those who, as it appeared, had been only initiated, and had made after the priest, and in the most solemn form, the prescribed imprecations, in which the accursed conspiracy for the perpetration of every crime and lust was contained, but who had not themselves committed, or compelled others to commit, any of those acts to which they were bound by the oath--all such they left in prison. But those who had forcibly committed personal defilements or murders, or were stained with the guilt of false evidence, counterfeit seals, forged wills, or other frauds, all these they punished with death. A greater number were executed than thrown into prison; indeed the multitude of men and women who suffered in both ways, was very considerable. The consuls delivered the women who were condemned to their relations, or to those under whose guardianship they were, that they might inflict the punishment in private; but if there did not appear any proper person of the kind to execute the sentence, the punishment was inflicted in public. A charge was then given to demolish all the places where the Bacchanalians had held their meetings; first, in Rome, and then throughout all Italy; excepting those wherein should be found some ancient altar, or consecrated statue. With regard to the future, the senate passed a decree, "that no Bacchanalian rites should be celebrated in Rome or in Italy:" and ordering that, "in case any person should believe some such kind of worship incumbent upon him, and necessary; and that he could not, without offence to religion, and incurring guilt, omit it, he should represent this to the city prætor, and the prætor should lay the business before the senate. If permission were granted by the senate, when not less than one hundred members were present, then he might perform those rites, provided that no more than five persons should be present at the sacrifice, and that they should have no common stock of money, nor any president of the ceremonies, nor priest." Another decree connected with this was then made, on a motion of the consul, Quintus Marcius, that "the business respecting the persons who had served the consuls as informers should be proposed to the senate in its original form, when Spurius Postumius should have finished his inquiries, and returned to Rome." They voted that Minus Cerrinius, the Campanian, should be sent to Ardea, to be kept in custody there; and that a caution should be given to the magistrates of that city, to guard him with more than ordinary care, so as to prevent not only his escaping, but his having an opportunity of committing suicide. Spurius Postumius some time after came to Rome and on his proposing the question, concerning the reward to be given to Publius Æbutius and Hispala Fecenia, because the Bacchanalian ceremonies were discovered by their exertions, the senate passed a vote, that "the city quæstors should give to each of them, out of the public treasury, one hundred thousand asses; and that the consuls should desire the plebeian tribunes to propose to the commons as soon as convenient, that the campaigns of Publius Æbutius should be considered as served, that he should not become a soldier against his wishes, nor should any censor assign him a horse at the public charge." They voted also, that "Hispala Fecenia should enjoy the privileges of alienating her property by gift or deed; of marrying out of her rank, and of choosing a guardian, as if a husband had conferred them by will; that she should be at liberty to wed a man of honorable birth, and that there should be no disgrace or ignominy to him who should marry her; and that the consuls and prætors then in office, and their successors, should take care that no injury should be offered to that woman, and that she might live in safety. That the senate wishes, and thought proper, that all these things should be so ordered."--All these particulars were proposed to the commons, and executed, according to the vote of the senate; and full permission was given to the consuls to determine respecting the impunity and rewards of the other informers.[178] The bacchanalian orgies were first suppressed nearly two hundred years before Christ. The above extract from Livy reminds us that at that time the Romans were still strong and virtuous, and that a proposal of their Consul to eradicate a vicious evil that threatened the existence of both domestic life and the State, met with warm approval and hearty support from both the Senate and the people. But the insidious infection was never completely eradicated; and the work of the "Greek from Etruria" bore bitter fruit in the centuries that followed. And when we consider that not only bacchanalian orgies, but Greek literature, painting, sculpture, tragedy and comedy, were the chief causes of the pollution of Roman morals and the destruction of the Roman State, should we be surprised that Juvenal, in an outburst of patriotic wrath, should have declaimed against "a Grecian capital in Italy";[179] and that he should have hurled withering scorn at The flattering, cringing, treacherous, artful race, Of fluent tongue and never-blushing face, A Protean tribe, one knows not what to call, That shifts to every form, and shines in all. And, when we consider the state of the Roman world at the time of Christ, should we be surprised that St. Paul should have described Romans as "Being filled with all unrighteousness, fornication, wickedness, covetousness, maliciousness; full of envy, murder, debate, deceit, malignity; whisperers, backbiters, haters of God, despiteful, proud, boasters, inventors of evil things, disobedient to parents, without understanding, covenant-breakers, without natural affection, implacable, unmerciful"?[180] Suffice it to say, in closing the chapter on Græco-Roman paganism, that, at the beginning of the Christian era, the Roman empire had reached the limit of physical expansion. Roman military glory had culminated in the sublime achievements of Pompey and of Cæsar. Mountains, seas, and deserts, beyond which all was barbarous and desolate, were the natural barriers of Roman dominion. Roman arms could go no farther; and Roman ambition could be no longer gratified by conquest. The Roman religion had fallen into decay and contempt; and the Roman conscience was paralyzed and benumbed. Disgusted with this world, the average Roman did not believe in any other, and was utterly without hope of future happiness. A gloomy despondency filled the hearts of men and drove them into black despair. When approaching death, they wore no look of triumph, expressed no belief in immortality, but simply requested of those whom they were leaving behind, to scatter flowers on their graves, or to bewail their early end. An epigram of the Anthology is this: "Let us drink and be merry; for we shall have no more of kissing and dancing in the kingdom of Proserpine: soon shall we fall asleep to wake no more." The same sentiments are expressed in epitaphs on Roman sepulchral monuments of the period. One of them reads thus: "What I have eaten and drunk, that I take with me; what I have left behind me, that have I forfeited." This is the language of another: "Reader, enjoy thy life; for after death there is neither laughter nor play, nor any kind of enjoyment." Still another: "Friend, I advise, mix thee a goblet of wine, and drink, crowning thy head with flowers. Earth and fire consume all that remains after death." And, finally, one of them assures us that Greek mythology is false: "Pilgrim, stay thee, listen and learn. In Hades there is no ferryboat, nor ferryman Charon; no Æacus or Cerberus;--once dead, and we are all alike."[181] Matthew Arnold has very graphically described the disgusting, sickening, overwhelming despair of the Roman people at the birth of Christ. Ah! carry back thy ken, What, some two thousand years! Survey The world as it was then. Like ours it looked, in outward air, Its head was clear and true; Sumptuous its clothing, rich its fare; No pause its action knew. Stout was its arm, each thew and bone Seem'd puissant and alive-- But ah! its heart, its heart was stone And so it could not thrive. On that hard pagan world disgust And secret loathing fell; Deep weariness and sated lust Made human life a hell. In his goodly hall with haggard eyes, The Roman noble lay; He drove abroad in furious guise Along the Appian Way. He made a feast, drank fierce and fast, And crowned his hair with flowers; No easier, nor no quicker passed The impracticable hours.[182] But the "darkest hour is just before the dawn," and "the fulness of the time was come." Already the first faint glimmers of the breaking of a grander and better day were perceptible to the senses of the noblest and finest of Roman intellects. Already Cicero had pictured a glorious millennium that would follow if perfect virtue should ever enter into the flesh and come to dwell among men.[183] Already Virgil, deriving inspiration from the Erythræan Sibylline prophecies, had sung of the advent of a heaven-born child, whose coming would restore the Golden Age, and establish enduring peace and happiness on the earth.[184] Already a debauched, degraded and degenerate world was crying in the anguish of its soul: "I know that my Redeemer liveth!" And, even before the Baptist began to preach in the wilderness, the ways had been made straight for the coming of the Nazarene. _APPENDICES_ APPENDIX I CHARACTERS OF THE SANHEDRISTS WHO TRIED JESUS The following short biographical sketches of about forty of the members of the Sanhedrin who tried Jesus are from a work entitled "Valeur de l'assemblée qui prononça la peine de mort contre Jésus Christ"--Lémann. The English translation, under the title "Jesus Before the Sanhedrin," is by Julius Magath, Oxford, Georgia. Professor Magath's translation is used in this work by special permission.--THE AUTHOR. THE MORAL CHARACTERS OF THE PERSONAGES WHO SAT AT THE TRIAL OF CHRIST The members of the Sanhedrin that judged Christ were seventy-one in number, and were divided into three chambers; but we must know the names, acts, and moral characters of these judges. That such a knowledge would throw a great light on this celebrated trial can be easily understood. The characters of Caiaphas, Ananos, and Pilate are already well known to us. These stand out as the three leading figures in the drama of the Passion. But others have appeared in it; would it not be possible to produce them also before history? This task, we believe, has never yet been undertaken. It was thought that documents were wanting. But this is an error; such documents exist. We have consulted them; and in this century of historical study and research we shall draw forth from the places where they have been hidden for centuries, the majority of the judges of Christ. Three kinds of documents have, in a particular manner, enabled us to discover the characters of these men: the books of the Evangelists, the valuable writings of Josephus the historian, and the hitherto unexplored pages of the Talmud. We shall bring to light forty of the judges, so that more than half of the Sanhedrin will appear before us; and this large majority will be sufficient to enable us to form an opinion of the moral tone of the whole assembly. To proceed with due order, we will begin with the most important chamber--viz., the chamber of the priests. I. THE CHAMBER OF THE PRIESTS We use the expression "chamber of the _priests_." In the Gospel narrative, however, this division of the Sanhedrin bears a more imposing title. Matthew, Mark, and the other Evangelists, designate it by the following names: the council _of the high priests_, and the council _of the princes of the priests_.[185] But we may ask, Why is this pompous name given to this chamber by the Evangelists? Is this not an error on their part? An assembly of priests seems natural, but how can there be an assembly of high priests, since according to the Mosaic institution there could be only one high priest, whose office was tenable for life. There is, however, neither an error nor an undue amplification on the part of the Gospel narrators; and we may also add here that both Talmuds positively speak of an assembly of high priests.[186] But how, then, can we account for the presence of several high priests at the same time in the Sanhedrin? Here is the explanation, to the shame of the Jewish assembly: For nearly a century a detestable abuse prevailed, which consisted in the arbitrary nomination and deposition of the high priest. The high priesthood, which for fifteen centuries had been preserved in the same family, being hereditary according to the divine command,[187] had at the time of Christ's advent become an object of commercial speculation. Herod commenced these arbitrary changes,[188] and after Judea became one of the Roman conquests the election of the high priest took place almost every year at Jerusalem, the procurators appointing and deposing them in the same manner as the prætorians later on made and unmade emperors.[189] The Talmud speaks sorrowfully of this venality and the yearly changes of the high priest. This sacred office was given to the one that offered the most money for it, and mothers were particularly anxious that their sons should be nominated to this dignity.[190] The expression, "_the council of the high priests_," used by the Evangelists to designate this section of the Sanhedrin, is therefore rigorously correct; for at the time of the trial of Christ there were about twelve ex-high priests, who still retained the honorable title of their charge, and were, by the right of that title, members of the high tribunal. Several ordinary priests were also included in this chamber, but they were in most cases related to the high priests; for in the midst of the intrigues by which the sovereign pontificate was surrounded in those days, it was customary for the more influential of the chief priests to bring in their sons and allies as members of their chamber. The spirit of caste was very powerful, and as M. Dérembourg, a modern Jewish savant, has remarked: "_A few priestly, aristocratic, powerful, and vain families, who cared for neither the dignity nor the interests of the altar, quarreled with each other respecting appointments, influence, and wealth_."[191] To sum up, we have, then, in this first chamber a double element--high priests and ordinary priests. We shall now make them known by their names and characters, and indicate the sources whence the information has been obtained. CAIAPHAS, high priest then in office. He was the son-in-law of Ananos, and exercised his office for eleven years--during the whole term of Pilate's administration (25-36 A.D.). It is he who presided over the Sanhedrin during this trial, and the history of the Passion as given by the Evangelists is sufficient to make him known to us. (See Matt. xxvi. 3; Luke iii. 2, etc.; Jos., "Ant.," B. XVIII. C. II. 2.) ANANOS held the office of high priest for seven years under Coponius, Ambivus, and Rufus (7-11 A.D.). This personage was the father-in-law of Caiaphas, and although out of office was nevertheless consulted on matters of importance. It may be said, indeed, that in the midst of the instability of the sacerdotal office he alone preserved in reality its authority. For fifty years this high office remained without interruption in his family. Five of his sons successively assumed its dignity. This family was even known as the "sacerdotal family," as if this office had become hereditary in it. Ananos had charge also of the more important duties of the Temple, and Josephus says that he was considered the most fortunate man of his time. He adds, however, that the spirit of this family was haughty, audacious, and cruel. (Luke iii. 2; John xviii. 13, 24; Acts iv. 6; Jos., "Ant.," B. XV. C. III 1; XX. IX. 1, 3; "Jewish Wars," B. IV. V. 2, 6, 7.) ELEAZAR was high priest during one year, under Valerius Grattus (23-24 A.D.). He was the eldest son of Ananos. (Jos., "Ant.," B. XVIII. II. 2.) JONATHAN, son of Ananos, simple priest at that time, but afterwards made high priest for one year in the place of Caiaphas when the latter was deposed, after the disgrace of Pilate, by Vitellius, Governor-general of Syria (37 A.D.). (Jos., "Ant.," B. XVIII. IV. 3.) THEOPHILUS, son of Ananos, simple priest at that time, but afterwards made high priest in the place of his brother Jonathan, who was deposed by Vitellius. Theophilus was in office five years (38-42 A.D.). (Jos., "Ant.," B. XIX. VI. 2; Munk, "Hist. de la Palestine," p. 568.) MATTHIAS, son of Ananos. Simple priest; afterwards high priest for two years (42-44 A.D.). He succeeded Simon Cantharus, who was deposed by King Herod Agrippa. (Jos., "Ant.," XIX. VI. 4.) ANANUS, son of Ananos. Simple priest at the time; afterwards made high priest by Herod Agrippa after the death of the Roman governor, Portius Festus (63 A.D.). Being a Sadducee of extravagant zeal, he was deposed at the end of three months by Albanus, successor of Portius Festus, for having illegally condemned the apostle James to be stoned. (Acts xxiii. 2, xxiv. 1; Jos., "Ant.," B. XX. IX. 1.) JOAZAR, high priest for six years during the latter days of Herod the Great and the first years of Archelaus (4 B.C.-2 A.D.). He was the son of Simon Boethus, who owed his dignity and fortune to the following dishonorable circumstance, as related by Josephus the historian: "There was one Simon, a citizen of Jerusalem, the son of Boethus, a citizen of Alexandria and a priest of great note there. This man had a daughter, who was esteemed the most beautiful woman of that time. And when the people of Jerusalem began to speak much in her commendation, it happened that Herod was much affected by what was said of her; and when he saw the damsel he was smitten with her beauty. Yet did he entirely reject the thought of using his authority to abuse her ... so he thought it best to take the damsel to wife. And while Simon was of a dignity too inferior to be allied to him, but still too considerable to be despised, he governed his inclinations after the most prudent manner by augmenting the dignity of the family and making them more honorable. Accordingly he forthwith deprived Jesus, the son of Phabet, of the high priesthood, and conferred that dignity on Simon." Such, according to Josephus, is the origin--not at all of a supernatural nature--of the call to the high priesthood of Simon Boethus and his whole family. Simon, at the time of this trial, was already dead; but Joazar figured in it with two of his brothers, one of whom was, like himself, an ex-high priest. (Jos., "Ant.," B. XV. IX. 3; XVII. VI. 4; XVIII. I. 1; XIX. VI. 2.) ELEAZAR, second son of Simon Boethus. He succeeded his brother Joazar when the latter was deprived of that function by King Archelaus (2 A.D.). Eleazar was high priest for a short time only, the same king deposing him three months after his installation. (Jos., "Ant.," B. XVII. XIII. 1; XIX. VI. 2.) SIMON CANTHARUS, third son of Simon Boethus. Simple priest at the time; was afterwards made high priest by King Herod Agrippa (42 A.D.), who, however, deposed him after a few months. (Jos., "Ant.," B. XIX. VI. 2, 4.) JESUS _ben_ SIE succeeded Eleazar to the high priesthood, and held the office for five or six years (1-6 A.D.) under the reign of Archelaus. (Jos., "Ant.," XVII. XIII. 1.) ISMAEL _ben_ PHABI. High priest for nine years under procurator Valerius Grattus, predecessor of Pontius Pilate. He was considered, according to the rabbins, the handsomest man of his time. The effeminate love of luxury of this chief priest was carried to such an extent that his mother, having made him a tunic of great price, he deigned to wear it once, and then consigned it to the public wardrobe, as a grand lady might dispose of a robe which no longer pleased her caprices. ("Talmud," "Pesachim," or "of the Passover," fol. 57, verso; "Yoma," or "the Day of Atonement," fol. 9, verso; 35, recto; Jos., "Ant.," XVIII. II. 2; XX. VIII. 11; Bartolocci, "Grand Bibliothèque Rabbinique," T. III. p. 297; Munk, "Palestine," pp. 563, 575.) SIMON _ben_ CAMITHUS, high priest during one year under procurator Valerius Grattus (24-25 A.D.). This personage was celebrated for the enormous size of his hand, and the Talmud relates of him the following incident: On the eve of the day of atonement it happened, in the course of a conversation which he had with Arathus, King of Arabia--whose daughter Herod Antipas had just married--that some saliva, coming out of the mouth of the king, fell on the robe of Simon. As soon as the king left him, he hastened to divest himself of it, considering it desecrated by the circumstance, and hence unworthy to be worn during the services of the following day. What a remarkable instance of Pharisaical purity and charity! ("Talmud," "Yoma," or "the Day of Atonement," fol. 47, verso; Jos., "Ant.," XVIII. II. 2; Dérembourg, "Essai sur l'histoire," p. 197, n. 2.) JOHN, simple priest. He is made known to us through the Acts of the Apostles. "And Annas the high priest, and Caiaphas, and John, and Alexander, and as many as were of the kindred of the high priest, were gathered together in Jerusalem." (Acts iv. 6.) ALEXANDER, simple priest; also mentioned in the Acts of the Apostles in the passage above quoted. Josephus also makes mention of him, and says that he afterwards became an _Alabarch_--that is to say, first magistrate of the Jews in Alexandria. That he was very rich is to be learned from the fact that King Herod Agrippa asked and obtained from him the loan of two hundred thousand pieces of silver. (Acts iv. 6; Jos., "Ant.," XVIII. VI. 3; XX. V. 2; Petri Wesselingii, "Diatribe de Judæorum Archontibus," Trajecti ad Rhenum, pp. 69-71.) ANANIAS _ben_ NEBEDEUS, simple priest at that time; was elected to the high priesthood under procurators Ventideus, Cumanus, and Felix (48-54 A.D.). He is mentioned in the Acts of the Apostles and by Josephus. It was this high priest who delivered the apostle Paul to procurator Felix. "Ananias the high priest descended with the elders, and with a certain orator named Tertullus, who informed the governor against Paul." (Acts xxiv. 1.) According to Jewish tradition, this high priest is chiefly known for his excessive gluttony. What the Talmud says of his voracity is quite phenomenal. It mentions three hundred calves, as many casks of wine, and forty pairs of young pigeons as having been brought together for his repast. ("Talmud," Bab., "Pesachim," or "of the Passover," fol. 57, verso; "Kerihoth," or "Sins which Close the Entrance to Eternal Life," fol. 28, verso; Jos., "Ant.," XX. V. 2; Dérembourg, work quoted above, pp. 230, 234; Munk, "Palestine," p. 573, n. 1.) HELCIAS, simple priest, and keeper of the treasury of the Temple. It is probably from him that Judas Iscariot received the thirty pieces of silver, the price of his treason. (Jos., "Ant.," XX. VIII. 11.) SCEVA, one of the principal priests. He is spoken of in the Acts apropos of his seven sons, who gave themselves up to witchcraft. (Acts xix. 13, 14.) Such are the chief priests that constituted the first chamber of the Sanhedrin at the time of the trial of Christ. From the documents which we have consulted and the résumé which we have just given, we gather: 1. That several of the high priests were personally dishonorable. 2. That all these high priests, who succeeded each other annually in the Aaronic office in utter disregard of the order established by God, were but miserable intruders. We trust that these expressions will not offend our dear Israelitish readers, for they are based on the statements of eminent and zealous Jewish writers. To begin with Josephus the historian. Although endeavoring to conceal as much as possible the shameful acts committed by the priests composing this council, yet he was unable, in a moment of disgust, to refrain from stigmatizing them. "About this time," he says, "there arose a sedition between the high priests and the principal men of the multitude of Jerusalem, each of which assembled a company of the boldest sort of men, and of those that loved innovations, and became leaders to them. And when they struggled together they did it by casting reproachful words against one another, and by throwing stones also. And there was nobody to reprove them; but these disorders were done after a licentious manner in the city, as if it had no government over it. And such was the impudence and boldness that had seized on the high priests that they had the hardness to send their servants into the threshing-floors, to take away those tithes that were due the [simple] priests. Insomuch that the poorest priests died of want."[192] Such are the acts, the spirit of equity and kindness, that characterized the chief judges of Christ! But the Talmud goes farther still. This book, which ordinarily is not sparing of eulogies on the people of our nation, yet, considering separately and by name, as we have done, the high priests of that time, it exclaims: "What a plague is the family of Simon Boethus; cursed be their lances! What a plague is the family of Ananos; cursed be their hissing of vipers! What a plague is the family of Cantharus; cursed be their pens! What a plague is the family of Ismael ben Phabi; cursed be their fists! They are high priests themselves, their sons are treasurers, their sons-in-law are commanders, and their servants strike the people with staves."[193] The Talmud continues: "The porch of the sanctuary cried out four times. The first time, Depart from here, descendants of Eli;[194] ye pollute the Temple of the Eternal! The second time, Let Issachar ben Keifar Barchi depart from here, who polluteth himself and profaneth the victims consecrated to God![195] The third time, Widen yourselves, ye gates of the sanctuary, and let Israel ben Phabi the willful enter, that he may discharge the functions of the priesthood! Yet another cry was heard, Widen yourselves, ye gates, and let Ananias ben Nebedeus the gourmand enter, that he may glut himself on the victims!" In the face of such low morality, avowed by the least to be suspected of our own nation, is it possible to restrain one's indignation against those who sat at the trial of Christ as members of the chamber of priests? This indignation becomes yet more intense when one remembers that an ambitious hypocrisy, having for its aim the domineering over the people, had perverted the law of Moses in these men. The majority of the priests belonged, in fact, to the Pharisaic order, the members of which sect made religion subservient to their personal ambition; and in order to rule over the people with more ease, they used religion as a tool to effect this purpose, encumbering the law of Moses with exaggerated precepts and insupportable burdens which they strenuously imposed upon others, but failed to observe themselves. Can we, then, be astonished at the murderous hatred which these false and ambitious men conceived for Christ? When his words, sharper than a sword, exposed their hypocrisy and displayed the corrupt interior of these whitened sepulchers wearing the semblance of justice, the hatred they already cherished for him grew to a frenzied intensity. They never forgave him for having publicly unmasked them. Hypocrisy never forgives that. Such were the men composing the council of priests, when the Sanhedrin assembled to judge Christ. Were we not justified in forming of them an unfavorable opinion?... But let us pass on to the second chamber, viz., the chamber of the scribes. II. CHAMBER OF THE SCRIBES Let us recall in a few words who the scribes were. Chosen indiscriminately among the Levites and laity, they formed the _corps savant_ of the nation; they were doctors in Israel, and were held in high esteem and veneration. It is well known what respect the Jews, and the Eastern nations generally, have always had for their _wise men_. Next to the chamber of the priests, that of the scribes was the most important. But from information gathered from the documents to which we have already referred, we are constrained to affirm that, with a few individual exceptions, this chamber was no better than that of the priests. The following is a list of the names and histories of the _wise men_ who composed the chamber of the scribes at the trial of Christ: GAMALIEL, surnamed the ancient. He was a very worthy Israelite, and his name is spoken of with honor in the Talmud as well as in the Acts of the Apostles. He belonged to a noble family, being a grandson of the famous Hillel, who, coming from Babylon forty years before Christ, taught with such brilliant success in Jerusalem. Gamaliel acquired so great a reputation among his people for his scientific acquirements that the Talmud could say of him: "_With the death of Rabbi Gamaliel the glory of the law has departed._" It was at the feet of this doctor that Saul, afterwards Paul the apostle, studied the law and Jewish traditions, and we know how he gloried in this fact. Gamaliel had also among his disciples Barnabas and Stephen, the first martyr for the cause of Christ. When the members of the Sanhedrin discussed the expediency of putting the apostles to death, this worthy Israelite prevented the passing of the sentence by pronouncing these celebrated words: "Ye men of Israel, take heed to yourselves what ye intend to do as touching these men.... And now I say unto you, refrain from these men, and let them alone; for if this counsel be of men it will come to naught; but if it be of God ye cannot overthrow it; lest haply ye be found even to fight against God." Gamaliel died nineteen years after Christ (52 A.D.). (Acts v. 34-39; xxii. 3; Mishna, "Sotah," or "the Woman Suspected of Adultery," C. IX.; "Sepher Juchasin," or "the Book of the Ancestors," p. 53; David Ganz, "Germe de David ou Chronologie" to 4768; Bartolocci, "Bibliotheca magna Rabbinica," T. i. pp. 727-732.) SIMON, son of Gamaliel, like his father, had a seat in the assembly. The rabbinical books speak of him in the highest terms of eulogy. The Mishna, for instance, attributes to him this sentence: "Brought up from my infancy among learned men, I have found nothing that is of greater value to man than silence. Doctrines are not the chief things, but work. He who is in the habit of much talking falls easily into error." This Simon became afterwards the intimate friend of the too celebrated bandit, John of Giscala, whose excesses and cruelty toward the Romans, and even the Jews, caused Titus to order the pillaging of Jerusalem. Simon was killed in the last assault in 70 A.D. (David Ganz, "Chronologie" to 4810; Mishna, "Aboth," or "of the Fathers," C. I.; "Talmud," Jerusalem, "Berachoth," or "of Blessings," fol. 6, verso; "Historia Docorium Misnicorum," J. H. Otthonis, pp. 110-113; De Champagny, "Rome et la Judée," T. ii. 86-171.) ONKELOS was born of heathen parents, but embraced Judaism, and became one of the most eminent disciples of Gamaliel. He is the author of the famous Chaldaic paraphrase of the Pentateuch. Although the rabbinical books do not mention him as a member of the Sanhedrin, yet it is highly probable that he belonged to that body, his writings and memory having always been held in great esteem by the Jews; even at the present day every Jew is enjoined to read weekly a portion of his version of the books of Moses. Onkelos carried the Pharisaical intolerance to the last degree. Converted from idolatry to Judaism, he hated the Gentiles to such an extent that he cast into the Dead Sea, as an object of impurity, the sum of money that he had inherited from his parents. We can easily understand how that, with such a disposition, he would not be favorably inclined toward Jesus, who received Gentiles and Jews alike. ("Talmud," "Megilla," or "Festival of Esther," fol. 3, verso; "Baba-bathra," or "the Last Gate," fol. 134, verso; "Succa," or "the Festival of Tabernacles," fol. 28, verso; "Thosephthoth," or "Supplements to the Mishna," C. v.; Rabbi Gedalia, "Tzaltzeleth Hakkabalah," or "the Chain of the Kabalah," p. 28; "Histor. Doct. Misnic.," p. 110; De Rossi, "Dizionario degli Autori Ebrei," p. 81.) JONATHAN _ben_ UZIEL, author of a very remarkable paraphrase of the Pentateuch and the Prophets. There is a difference of opinion regarding the precise time at which he lived. Some place it several years before Christ; others at the time of Christ. We believe, however, that not only was he contemporary with Christ, but that he was also one of his judges. In support of our assertion we give the two following proofs, which we think indisputable: 1. Jonathan, the translator of the Prophets, has purposely omitted Daniel, which omission the Talmud explains as due to the special intervention of an angel who informed him that the manner in which the prophet speaks of the death of the Messiah coincided too exactly with that of Jesus of Nazareth. Now, since Jonathan has intentionally left out the prophecies of Daniel on account of their coincidence with the death of Christ, it proves that he could not have lived before Christ, but must have been contemporary with him. 2. In comparing the paraphrase of Onkelos with that of Jonathan, we find that the latter had made use of the work of the former, who lived in the time of Christ. Examples may be found in Deut. xxii. 5, Judges v. 26, Num. xxi. 28, 29. If, then, Jonathan utilized the work of Onkelos, who lived in the time of Christ, the fact proves beyond question that he could not have lived before Christ. The Talmudists, in order to reward this person for having, through his hatred of Christ, erased the name of Daniel from the roll of prophets, eulogize him in the most absurd manner. They relate that while engaged in the study of the law of God, the atmosphere which surrounded him, and came in contact with the light of his understanding, so caught fire from his fervor that the birds, silly enough to be attracted toward it, were consumed immediately. ("Talmud," "Succa," or "the Festival of Tabernacles," fol. 28, verso; David Ganz, "Chronol." 4728; Gesenius, "Comm. on Isaiah," Part I. p. 65; Zunz, "Culte divin des Juifs," Berlin, 1832, p. 61; Dérembourg, work quoted above, p. 276; Hanneburg, "Révelat Bibliq.," ii. 163, 432.) SAMUEL HAKATON, or _the Less_. Surnamed to distinguish him from Samuel the prophet. It was he who, some time after the resurrection of Christ, composed the famous imprecation against the Christians, called "Birchath Hamminim" (Benedictions of Infidels). The "Birchath Hamminim," says the Talmud, and the commentary of R. Jarchi, "was composed by R. Samuel Hakaton at Jabneh, where the Sanhedrin had removed after the misconduct of the Nazarene, who taught a doctrine contrary to the words of the living God." The following is the singular benediction: "_Let there be no hope for the apostates of religion, and let all heretics, whosoever they may be, perish suddenly. May the kingdom of pride be rooted out; let it be annihilated quickly, even in our days! Be blessed, O Lord, who destroyest the impious, and humblest the proud!_" As soon as Samuel Hakaton had composed this malediction, it was inserted as an additional blessing in the celebrated prayer of the synagogue, the "Shemonah-Essara" (the eighteen blessings). These blessings belonged to the time of Ezra--that is to say, five centuries before the Christian era; and every Jew has to recite it daily. St. Jerome was not ignorant of this strange prayer. He says: "_The Jews anathematize three times daily in their synagogue the name of the Christian, disguising it under the name of Nazarene._" According to R. Gedalia, Samuel died before the destruction of Jerusalem, about fifteen or twenty years after Christ. ("Talmud," "Berachoth," or "of Prayers," fol. 28, verso; "Megilla," or "the Festival of Esther," fol. 28, verso; St. Jerome, "Comment. on Isaiam," B. II. C. V. 18, 19; Tom. iv. p. 81 of the "Valarsius," quarto edition; Vitringa, "de Synagoga vetr.," T. ii. p. 1036, 1047, 1051; Castellus, "Lexicon heptaglotton," art. Min.) CHANANIA _ben_ CHISKIA. He was a great conciliator in the midst of the doctrinal quarrels so common at that time; and it happened that the rival schools of Shammai and Hillel, which were not abolished with the death of their founders, often employed him as their arbitrator. This skillful umpire did not always succeed, however, in calming the disputants; for we read in the ancient books that in the transition from force of argument to argument of force, the members of the schools of Shammai and Hillel frequently came to blows. Hence the French expression _se chammailler_. It happened, however, according to the Talmud, that Chanania once departed from his usual system of equilibrium in favor of the prophet Ezekiel. It appears that on one occasion the most influential members of the Sanhedrin proposed to censure, and even reject, the book of this prophet, because, according to their opinion, it contained several passages in contradiction of the law of Moses; but Chanania defended it with so much eloquence that they were obliged to desist from their project. This fact alone, reported fully as it is in the Talmud, would be sufficient to show the laxity of the study of the prophecies at that time. Although the exact date of his death is uncertain, it is, nevertheless, sure that it took place before the destruction of the Temple. ("Talmud," "Chagiga," or "the obligations of the males to present themselves three times a year at Jerusalem," 2, 13; "Shabbath," or "of the Sabbath," C. I.; "Sepher Juchasin," or "the Book of Ancestors," p. 57.) ISMAEL _ben_ ELIZA, renowned for the depth of his mind and the beauty of his face. The rabbins record that he was learned in the most mysterious things; for example, he could command the angels to descend from heaven and ascend thither. We have it also from the same authority that his mother held him in such high admiration that one day on his return from school she washed his feet, and, through respect for him, drank the water she had used for that purpose. His death was of a no less romantic nature. It appears that after the capture of Jerusalem, the daughter of Titus was so struck with his beauty that she obtained permission of her father to have the skin of his face taken off after his death, which skin she had embalmed, and, having perfumed it, she sent it to Rome to figure among the spoils as a trophy. ("Talmud," "Aboda Zarah," or "of Idolatry," C. I.; Rabbi Gedalia, "Tzaltzeleth Hakkabalah," or "the Chain of the Kabalah," p. 29; "Sepher Juchasin," or "the Book of Ancestors," p. 25; "Tosephoth Kiddushin," C. IV.) Rabbi ZADOK. He was about forty years old at the trial of Christ, and died after the burning of the Temple, aged over seventy. The Talmud relates that for forty years he ceased not from fasting, that God might so order it that the Temple should not be destroyed by fire. Upon this the question is propounded in the same book, but no answer given, as to how this rabbin could have known that the Temple was threatened with so great a calamity. We believe that Rabbi Zadok could have obtained information of this terrible event in one of the two ways--either from the prophetic voice of Daniel which proclaimed more than forty years previous to the occurrence that abomination and desolation should crush the Temple of Jerusalem when the Messiah should have been put to death; or by the voice of Jesus himself, who said forty years before the destruction of the Temple: "See ye not all these things?" (i.e., the buildings of the Temple) "verily, verily I say unto you, There shall not be left here one stone upon another that shall not be thrown down." (Mishna, "Shabbath," or "of the Sabbath," C. XXIV. 5 to end; "Eduth," or "of Testimony," C. VII. 1; "Aboth," or "of the Fathers of Tradition," IV. 5; David Ganz, "Chronol." 4785; Seph. Juchasin," fol. 21, 26; Schikardi, "Jus Regium Hebræorum," p. 468; Dan. ix. 25-27; Luke xxi. 6; Matt. xxvi. 2.) JOCHANAN _ben_ ZAKAI. The rabbinical books accord to this rabbi an extraordinary longevity. From their writings it would appear that, like Moses, he lived a hundred and twenty years, forty years of which he consecrated to manual labor; another forty to the study of the law; and the last forty years of his life he devoted to imparting his knowledge to others. His reputation as a savant was so well established that he was surnamed the _Splendor of Wisdom_. After the destruction of the Temple, he rallied together the remaining members of the Sanhedrin to Jabneh, where he presided over this remnant for the last four or five years of his life. He died in the year 73 A.D. When he breathed his last, says the Mishna, a cry of anguish was heard, saying: "With the death of Jochanan ben Zakai the splendor of wisdom has been quenched!" We have, however, other information regarding this rabbi which is, so to speak, like the reverse side of a medal. The Bereshith Rabba says that Rabbi Jochanan was in the habit of eulogizing himself in the most extravagant manner, and gives the following as a specimen of the praises he bestowed upon himself: "If the skies were parchment, all the inhabitants of the world writers, and all the trees of the forest pens, all these would not suffice to transcribe the doctrines which he had learned from the masters." What humility of language! One day his disciples asked him to what he attributed his long life. "To my wisdom and piety," was his reply in his tone of habitual modesty. Besides, if we were to judge of his moral character by an ordinance of which he is the author, his morality might be equal to the standard of his humility. He abolished the Mosaical command of the ordeal of bitter waters, immorally isolating a passage in Isaiah from its context. Finally, to fill up the measure of his honesty, he became one of the lewdest courtiers of Titus, and the destroyer of his country. But while obsequious to human grandeur, he was obdurate to the warnings of God, and died proud and impenitent. ("Talmud," "Rosh Hashanah," or "of the New Year," fol. 20, recto; 31, recto; "Sotah," or "of the Woman Suspected," etc., IX. 9; "Yoma," or "the Day of Atonement," fol. 39, recto, and 43; "Gittin," or "of Divorce," fol. 56, verso and recto; "Succa," or "of the Festival of Tabernacles," fol. 28, verso; Mishna, Chapter, "Egla arupha"; "Sepher Juchasin," or "the Book of Ancestors," fol. 20, recto; "Seph. Hakkabalah"; Otthonis, "Hist. Doct. Misn.," pp. 93-103; Hosea iv. 14; Jos., "Wars," VI. V. 3; De Champagny, "Rome et la Judée," T. i. p. 158.) ABBA SAUL. He was of prodigious height, and had the charge of superintending the burials of the dead, that everything might be done according to the law. The rabbins, who delight in the marvelous, affirm that in the exercise of his duties he found the thigh bone of Og, the King of Bashan, and the right eye of Absalom. By virtue of the marrow extracted from the thigh of Og, he was enabled to chase a young buck for three leagues; as for the eye of Absalom, it was so deep that he could have hidden himself in it as if in a cavern. These stories, no doubt, appear very puerile; and yet, according to a Talmudical book (Menorath-Hammoer, "the lighted candlestick"), which is considered of great authority even in the modern [orthodox] synagogue, we must judge of these matters in the following manner: "Everything which our doctors have taught in the Medrashim (allegoric or historical commentaries) we are bound to consider and believe in as the law of Moses our master; and if we find anything in it which appears exaggerated and incredible, we must attribute it to the weakness of our understandings, rather than to their teachings; and whoever turns into ridicule whatever they have said will be punished." According to Maimonides, Abba Saul died before the destruction of the Temple. (Mishna, "Middoth," or "of the Dimensions of the Temple," Chapter, "Har habbaith"; "Talmud," "Nidda," or "the Purification of Women," C. III. fol. 24, recto; Maimonides, "Proef ad zeraim"; Drach, "Harmonies entre l'Eglise et la Synagogue," T. ii. p. 375.) R. CHANANIA, surnamed the Vicar of the Priests. The Mishna attributes to him a saying which brings clearly before us the social position of the Jewish people in the last days of Jerusalem. "Pray," said he, "for the Roman Empire; for should the terror of its power disappear in Palestine, neighbor will devour neighbor alive." This avowal shows the deplorable state of Judea, and the divisions to which she had become a prey. The Romans seem, however, to have cared very little for the sympathy of R. Chanania, for, having possessed themselves of the city, they put him to death. (Mishna, "Aboth," or "of the Fathers of Tradition," C. III. 2; "Zevachim," or "of Sacrifices," C. IX. 3; "Eduth," or "of Testimony," C. II. 1; David Ganz, "Chronologie," 4826; "Sepher Juchasin," or "the Book of Ancestors," p. 57.) Rabbi ELEAZAR _ben_ PARTAH, one of the most esteemed scribes of the Sanhedrin, on account of his scientific knowledge. Already very aged at the destruction of the Temple, he yet lived several years after that national calamity. ("Talmud," "Gittin," or "of Divorces," C. III. 4; "Sepher Juchasin," p. 31.) Rabbi NACHUM HALBALAR. He is mentioned in the rabbinical books as belonging to the Sanhedrin in the year 28 A.D., but nothing particular is mentioned of his history. ("Talmud," "Peah," or "of the Angle," C. II. 6, "Sanhedrin.") Rabbi SIMON HAMIZPAH. He also is said to have belonged to the Sanhedrin in the year 28 A.D. Beyond this but little is known. ("Talmud," "Peah," C. II. 6.) These are, according to Jewish tradition, the principal scribes, or doctors, that composed the second chamber of the Sanhedrin at the time of the trial of Christ. The ancient books which speak of them are, of course, filled with their praises. Nevertheless, blended with these praises are some remarks which point to the predominant vice of these men--namely, pride. We read in Rabbi Nathan's book, "Aruch" (a Talmudical dictionary of great authority[196]): "_In the past and more honorable times the titles of rabbin, rabbi, or rav,[197] to designate the learned men of Babylon and Palestine, were unknown; thus when Hillel came from Babylon the title of rabbi was not added to his name. It was the same with the prophets, who were styled simply Isaiah, Haggai, etc., and not Rabbi Isaiah, Rabbi Haggai, etc. Neither did Ezra bring the title of rabbi with him from Babylon. It was not until the time of Gamaliel, Simon, and Jochanan ben Zackai that this imposing title was first introduced among the worthies of the Sanhedrin._" This pompous appellation appears, indeed, for the first time among the Jews contemporary with Christ. "They love the uppermost rooms at feasts, and the chief seats in the synagogues, and greetings in the market-places, and to be called of men, Rabbi, Rabbi." Proud of their titles and learning, they laid claim to the foremost rank in society. _A wise man_, say they, _should be preferred to a king; the king takes the precedence of the high priest; the priest of the Levite; the Levite of the ordinary Israelite. The wise man should be preferred to the king, for if the wise man should die he could not easily be replaced; while the king could be succeeded by an Israelite of any order_.[198] Basing the social status on this maxim we are not astonished to find in the Talmud[199] that at a certain time twenty-four persons were excommunicated for having failed to render to the rabbi the reverence due his position. Indeed, a very small offense was often sufficient to call forth maledictions from this haughty and intolerant dignitary. Punishment was mercilessly inflicted wherever there was open violation of any one of the following rules established by the rabbis themselves: If any one opposes his rabbi, he is guilty in the same degree as if he opposed God himself.[200] If any one quarrels with his rabbi, it is as if he contended with the living God.[201] If any one thinks evil of his rabbi, it is as if he thought evil of the Eternal.[202] This self-sufficiency was carried to such an enormous extent that when Jerusalem fell into the hands of Titus, who came against it armed with the sword of vengeance of Jehovah, Rabbi Jehudah wrote with an unflinching pen: "_If Jerusalem was destroyed, we need look for no other cause than the people's want of respect for the rabbis._"[203] We ask now of every sincere Israelite, What opinion can be formed of the members of the second chamber who are about to assist in pronouncing judgment upon Christ? Could impartiality be expected of those proud and selfish men, whose lips delighted in nothing so much as sounding their own praises? What apprehensions must one not have of an unjust and cruel verdict when he remembers it was of these very men that Christ had said: "Beware of the scribes, which desire to walk in long robes; they make broad their phylacteries and enlarge the borders of their garments; they love greetings in the market, and to be called Rabbi, Rabbi; which devour widows' houses; and for show make long prayers."[204] The remembrance of this rebuke, so galling to their pride, continually rankled in their minds; and when the opportunity came, with what remorseless hate did they wreak upon him their vengeance! We may, then, conclude from the foregoing facts that the members of the chamber of the scribes were no better than those composing the chamber of the priests. To this assertion, however, there is one exception to be made; for, as we have already seen, there was among those arrogant and unscrupulous men[205] one whose sense of justice was not surpassed by his great learning. That man was Gamaliel. III. CHAMBER OF THE ELDERS This chamber was the least influential of the three; hence, but few names of the persons composing it at the period to which we refer have been preserved. JOSEPH OF ARIMATHEA. The Gospel makes of him the following eulogy: Rich man; honorable counselor; good and just man; the same had not consented to the counsel and deed of the others. Joseph of Arimathea is called in the Vulgate, or the Latin version of the Bible, "noble centurion," because he was one of the ten magistrates or senators who had the principal authority in Jerusalem under the Romans. His noble position is more clearly marked in the Greek version. That he was one of the seventy may be concluded, first, because it was common to admit senators who were considered the ancients of the people in this assembly; they were indeed the chiefs and the princes of the nation--_seniores populi, principes nostri_; second, because these words, "he had not consented to the counsel and deed of the others," proves that he had a right to be in the grand assembly and take part in the discussions. (Matt. xxvii. 57-59; Mark xv. 43-46; Luke xxiii. 50; John xix. 38; Jacobi Alting, "Schilo seu de Vaticinio patriarchæ Jacobi," p. 310; Goschler, _Diction. Encyclopediq._; word, "Arimathea"; Cornelius Lapidus, "Comment. in Script. sac.," edition Vivés, T. xv. p. 638, second col.) NICODEMUS. St. John the Evangelist says that he was by profession a Pharisee, a prince of the Jews, a master in Israel, and a member of the Sanhedrin, where he one day attempted to oppose his colleagues by speaking in defense of Jesus. This act brought down upon him the disdainful retort from the others, "Art thou also a Galilean?" He was one, it is true, but in secret. We know from the Gospel account of him that he possessed great riches, and that he used nearly a hundred pounds of myrrh and spices for the burial of Christ. The name of Nicodemus is mentioned in the Talmud also; and, although it was known that his attachment to Christ was great, he is, nevertheless, spoken of with honor. But this fact may be due to his great wealth. There were, says the Hebrew book, three eminent men in Jerusalem--Nicodemus ben Gurien, ben Tzitzith Hacksab, ben Kalba Shevuah--each of whom could have supported the whole city for ten years. (John iii. 1-10; vii. 50-52; xix. 39; "Talmud" "Gittin," or "of Divorces," C. V. fol. 56, verso; "Abodah Zarah," or "of Idolatry," C. II. fol. 25, verso; "Taanith," or "of the Fast Days," III. fol. 19, recto; fol. 20, verso; Midrash Rabbah on "Koheleth," VII. II; David Ganz, "Chron." 4757; Knappius, "Comment. in Colloquium Christi cum Nicodemo"; Cornelius Lapidus, "Comment. in Joann." Cap. III. _et seq._) BEN KALBA SHEVUAH. After stating that he was one of the three rich men of Jerusalem, the Talmud adds: "His name was given to him because whosoever entered his house as hungry as a dog came out filled." There is no doubt that his high financial position secured for him one of the first places in the chamber of the ancients. His memory, according to Ritter, is still preserved among the Jews in Jerusalem. ("Talmud," "Gittin," or "of Divorces," C. V. fol. 56, verso; David Ganz, "Chronol." 4757; Ritter, "Erdkunde," XVI. 478.) BEN TZITZITH HACKSAB. The effeminacy of this third rich man is made known to us by the Talmud, where it is stated that the border of his pallium trained itself always on the softest carpets. Like Nicodemus and Kalba Shevuah, he no doubt belonged to the Sanhedrin. ("Talmud," "Gittin," C. V. fol. 56, verso; David Ganz, "Chron." 4757.) SIMON. From Josephus the historian we learn that he was of Jewish parentage, and was highly esteemed in Jerusalem on account of the accurate knowledge of the law which he possessed. He had the boldness, one day, to convoke an assembly of the people and to bring an accusation against King Herod Agrippa, who, he said, deserved, on account of his bad conduct, that the entrance into the sacred portals should be forbidden him. This took place eight or nine years after Christ--that is to say, in the year 42 or 43 A.D. We may safely conclude that a man who had power enough to convoke an assembly and sufficient reputation and knowledge to dare accuse a king, must undoubtedly have belonged to the council of the Sanhedrin. Besides, his birth alone at a time when nobility of origin constituted, as we have already said, a right to honors, would have thrown wide open to him the doors of the assembly. (Jos., "Ant.," XIX. VII. 4; Dérembourg, "Essai sur l'histoire et la géographie de la Palestine," p. 207, n. 1; Frankel, _Monatsschrift._, III. 440.) DORAS was a very influential citizen of Jerusalem, and is thus spoken of by Josephus. He was, however, a man of cruel and immoral character, not hesitating, for the sake of ingratiating himself with Governor Felix, to cause the assassination of Jonathan, the high priest who had made himself obnoxious to that ruler by some just remonstrances respecting his administration. Doras effected the assassination in cold blood by means of murderers hired at the expense of Felix (52 or 53 A.D.). The prominence which this man for a long time maintained in Jerusalem warrants the presumption that he was a member of the Sanhedrin. (Jos., "Ant.," XX. VIII. 5.) JOHN, son of JOHN. DOROTHEAS, son of NATHANAEL. TRYPHON, son of THEUDION. CORNELIUS, son of CERON. These four personages were sent as ambassadors by the Jews of Jerusalem to Emperor Claudius in the year 44, when Cuspius Fadus was governor of Judea. Claudius mentions this fact in a letter sent by him to Cuspius Fadus, and which Josephus has preserved. It is very probable that either they themselves or their fathers were members of the chamber of the ancients; for the Jews appointed as their ambassadors only such members of the Sanhedrin as were distinguished for superior learning. (Jos., "Ant.," XX. I. 1, 2.) The rabbinical books limit their information concerning the members of this chamber to the names we have just mentioned. To be guided, then, by the documents quoted, one would suppose that although this chamber was the least important of the three, yet its members were perhaps more just than those composing the other two, and consequently manifested less vehemence against Christ during His trial. But a statement made by Josephus the historian proves beyond doubt that this third chamber was made up of men no better than were to be found in the others. It was from among the wealthy element of Jewish society, says Josephus, that Sadduceeism received most of its disciples.[206] Since, then, the chamber of ancients was composed principally of the rich men of Jerusalem, we may safely conclude that the majority of its members were infected with the errors of Sadduceeism--that is to say, with a creed that taught that the soul dies before the body.[207] We are, then, in the presence of real materialists, who consider the destiny of man to consist in the enjoyment of material and worldly things,[208] and who are so carnally minded that it would seem as if the prophetic indignation of David had stigmatized them beforehand when he says: "They have so debased themselves as to become like the beasts that have no understanding."[209] Let not our readers imagine that in thus speaking we at all mean to do injustice to the memory of these men. A fact of great importance proves indisputably that Sadducees or Epicureans were numerous among the Sanhedrin. When, several years after the trial of Christ, the apostle Paul had in his turn to appear before that body, he succeeded by the skill of his oratory in turning the doctrinal differences of that assembly to his benefit. "Men and brethren," he exclaimed, "I am a Pharisee, the son of a Pharisee; of the hope and the resurrection of the dead I am called in question."[210] Hardly had the apostle pronounced these words when a hot discussion arose between the Sadducees and the Pharisees, all of them rising and speaking in great confusion--some for the resurrection, others against it--and it was in the tumult of recrimination and general uproar that the apostle was able peacefully to withdraw. Such was the state of things in the supreme council of the Hebrews; and men of notorious heresy, and even impiety, were appointed as judges to decide on questions of doctrine. Among these materialists there were, however, two just men; and, like Lot among the wicked inhabitants of Sodom, there were in this assembly Nicodemus and Joseph of Arimathea. We shall now briefly sum up the contents of the preceding chapter. We possess certain information respecting more than one half of the seventy-one members of the Sanhedrin. We know almost all the high priests, who, as we have already said, formed the principal element of this council. This majority, as we have intimated, is sufficient for the forming of an estimate of the moral tone of all the judges; and before the debates begin, it is easy to foresee the issue of the trial of Christ. What, indeed, could have been the issue of a trial before the first chamber, composed as it was of demoralized, ambitious, and scheming priests? of priests who were mostly Pharisees--that is to say, men of narrow minds, careful only of the external, haughty, overbearing, and self-satisfied, believing themselves to be both infallible and impeccable?[211] It is true they expected a Messiah; but their Messiah was to subdue unto them all their enemies, impose for their benefit a tax on all the nations of the earth, and uphold them in all the absurdities with which they have loaded the law of Moses. But this man who is about to be brought before them has exposed their hypocritical semblance of piety, and justly stripped them of the undeserved esteem in which they were held by the people. He has absolutely denounced the precepts which they invented and placed above the law. He even desired to abolish the illegal taxes which they had imposed upon the people. Are not all these more than sufficient to condemn Him in their eyes and prove Him worthy of death? Can a more favorable verdict be expected of the members of the second chamber, composed as it was of men so conceited and arrogant? These doctors expected a Messiah who would be another Solomon, under whose reign and with whose aid they would establish at Jerusalem an academy of learning that would attract all the kings, even as the Queen of Sheba was attracted to the court of the wisest king of Israel. But this Jesus, who claims to be the Messiah, has the boldness to declare blessed those who are humble in spirit. His disciples are but ignorant fishermen, chosen from the least of the tribes; his speech of a provoking simplicity, condemning before the multitude the haughty and pretentious language of the doctors. Are not these things sufficient to bring down upon him their condemnation? And what justice can we expect, in fine, from the third chamber, when we remember that most of its members were depraved Sadducees, caring only for the enjoyment of the things of this world, heedless of the welfare of the soul, almost denying the existence of God, and disbelieving in the resurrection of the dead? According to their views, the mission of the Messiah was not to consist in the regenerating of Israel as well as of the whole human race, but in the making of Jerusalem the center of riches and worldly goods, which would be brought hither by the conquered and humbled Gentiles, who were to become the slaves of the Israelites. But the man upon whom they are called to pass judgment, far from attaching great importance to wealth and dignity, as did they, prescribes to his disciples the renunciation of riches and honors. He even despises those things which the Sadducees esteem most--viz., pedigree, silk attire, cups of gold, and sumptuous repast. What could have rendered his condemnation surer than such manifestations of contempt for the pride and voluptuousness of these men? To limit our inquiry to the moral characters of the judges alone, the issue of the trial can be but fatal to the accused; and so, when the three chambers constituting the Sanhedrin council had entered into session, we can well imagine that there was no hope for the acquittal of Jesus; for are not all the high priests, as well as the majority of the scribes and ancients, against him?[212] APPENDIX II ACTS OF PILATE The apocryphal Acts of Pilate are herewith given under Appendix II. The authenticity of these writings has never been finally settled by the scholarship of the world. It is safe to say, however, that the current of modern criticism is decidedly against their genuineness. Nevertheless, the following facts seem to be very generally conceded by the critics: That there are now in existence certain ancient documents called the "Acts of Pilate"; that they were probably discovered at Turin, in northern Italy, and were first used by the noted New Testament palæographer, Dr. Constantine Tischendorf, who studied them in company with the celebrated orientalist, Victor Amadee Peyron, professor of oriental languages in the University of Turin; and, furthermore, that these documents that we now have are approximately accurate copies of the document mentioned by Justin Martyr about the year 138 A.D., and by Tertullian about the year 200 A.D. But, admitting all these things, the question of _genuineness_ and _authenticity_ still remains to be settled. Was the document referred to by Justin as the "Acts of Pilate," and again as the "Acts recorded under Pontius Pilate," a genuine manuscript, written by or composed under the direction of Pilate, or was it a "pious fraud of some Christian," who gathered his prophecies from the Old, and his facts from the New Testament, and then embellished both with his imagination? The subject is too vast and the space at our disposal is too limited to permit a discussion of the authenticity of the Acts of Pilate. We have deemed it sufficient to insert under Appendix II lengthy extracts from the writings of Tischendorf and Lardner, two of the most celebrated biblical critics, relating to the genuineness of these Acts. The reader would do well to peruse these extracts carefully before reading the Acts of Pilate. LARDNER'S REMARKS ON THE ACTS OF PILATE _The Acts of Pontius Pilate, and his letter to Tiberius_ "Justin Martyr, in his first Apology, which was presented to the emperor Antoninus Pius, and the Senate of Rome, about the year 140, having mentioned our Savior's crucifixion and some of the circumstances of it, adds: 'And that these things were so done you may know from the Acts made in the time of Pontius Pilate.' "Afterwards in the same Apology, having mentioned some of our Lord's miracles, such as healing diseases and raising the dead, he adds: 'And that these things were done by him you may know from the Acts made in the time of Pontius Pilate.' "Tertullian, in his Apology, about the year 200, having spoken of our Savior's crucifixion and resurrection, and his appearance to his disciples, who were ordained by him to preach the gospel over the world, goes on: 'Of all these things, relating to Christ, Pilate, in his conscience a Christian, sent an account to Tiberius, then emperor.' "In another chapter or section of his Apology, nearer the beginning, he speaks to this purpose: 'There was an ancient decree that no one should be received for a deity unless he was first approved by the senate. Tiberius, in whose time the Christian religion had its rise, having received from Palestine in Syria an account of such things as manifested our Savior's divinity, proposed to the senate, and giving his own vote as first in his favor, that he should be placed among the gods. The senate refused, because he himself had declined that honor.' "'Nevertheless the emperor persisted in his own opinion, and ordered that if any accused the Christians they should be punished.' And then adds: 'Search,' says he, 'your own writings, and you will there find that Nero was the first emperor who exercised any acts of severity toward the Christians, because they were then very numerous at Rome.' "It is fit that we should now observe what notice Eusebius takes of these things in his Ecclesiastical History. It is to this effect: 'When the wonderful resurrection of our Savior, and his ascension to heaven, were in the mouths of all men, it being an ancient custom for the governors of provinces to write the emperor, and give him an account of new and remarkable occurrences, that he might not be ignorant of anything; our Savior's resurrection being much talked of throughout all of Palestine, Pilate informed the emperor of it, as likewise of his miracles, which he had heard of, and that being raised up after he had been put to death, he was already believed by many to be a god. And it is said that Tiberius referred the matter to the senate, but that they refused their consent, under a pretence that it had not been first approved of by them; there being an ancient law that no one should be deified among the Romans without an order of the senate; but, indeed, because the saving and divine doctrine of the gospel needed not to be confirmed by human judgment and authority. However, Tiberius persisted in his former sentiment, and allowed not anything to be done that was prejudicial to the doctrine of Christ. These things are related by Tertullian, a man famous on other accounts, and particularly for his skill in the Roman laws. I say he speaks thus in his Apology for the Christians, written by him in the Roman tongue, but since (in the days of Eusebius) translated into the Greek.' His words are these: 'There was an ancient decree that no one should be consecrated as a deity by the emperor, unless he was first approved of by the senate. Marcus Aemilius knows this by his god Alburnus. This is to our purpose, forasmuch as among you divinity is bestowed by human judgment.' "And if God does not please man, he shall not be God. And, according to this way of thinking, man must be propitious to God. Tiberius, therefore, in whose time the Christian name was first known in the world, having received an account of this doctrine out of Palestine, where it began, communicated that account to the senate; giving his own suffrage at the same time in favor of it. But the senate rejected it, because it had not been approved by themselves. 'Nevertheless the emperor persisted in his judgment, and threatened death to such as should accuse the Christians.' 'Which,' adds Eusebius, 'could not be other than the disposal of Divine Providence, that the doctrine of the gospel, which was then in its beginning, might be preached all over the world without molestation.' So Eusebius. "Divers exceptions have been made by learned moderns to the original testimonies of Justin Martyr and Tertullian. 'Is there any likelihood,' say they, 'that Pilate should write such things to Tiberius concerning a man whom he had condemned to death? And if he had written them, is it probable that Tiberius should propose to the senate to have a man put among the gods upon the bare relation of a governor of a province? And if he had proposed it, who can make a doubt that the senate would not have immediately complied? So that though we dare not say that this narration is absolutely false, yet it must be reckoned as doubtful.' So says Du Pin. "These and other difficulties shall now be considered. "Now, therefore, I shall mention some observations: "In the first place, I shall observe that Justin Martyr and Tertullian are early writers of good repute. That is an observation of Bishop Pearson. These testimonies are taken from the most public writings, Apologies for the Christian religion, presented, or at least proposed and recommended to the emperor and senate of Rome, or to magistrates of high authority and great distinction in the Roman empire. Secondly: It certainly was the custom of governors of provinces to compose Acts or memoirs or commentaries of the remarkable occurrences in the places where they presided. In the time of the first Roman emperors there were Acts of the Senate, Acts of the City, or People of Rome, Acts of other cities, and Acts of governors of provinces. Of all these we can discern clear proofs and frequent mention in ancient writers of the best credit. Julius Cæsar ordered that Acts of the Senate, as well as daily Acts of the People, should be published. See Sueton. Jul. Cæs. c. xx. "Augustus forbade publishing Acts of the Senate. "There was an officer, himself a senator, whose province it was to compose those Acts. "The Acts of the Senate must have been large and voluminous, containing not only the question proposed, or referred to the senate by the consul, or the emperor, but also the debates and speeches of the senators. "The Acts of the People, or City, were journals or registers of remarkable births, marriages, divorces, deaths, proceedings in courts of judicature, and other interesting affairs, and some other things below the dignity of history. "To these Acts of each kind Roman authors frequently had recourse for information. "There were such Acts or registers at other places besides Rome, particularly at Antium. From them Suetonius learned the day and place of the birth of Caligula, about which were other uncertain reports. And he speaks of those Acts as public authorities, and therefore more decisive and satisfactory than some other accounts. "There were also Acts of the governors of provinces, registering all remarkable transactions and occurrences. "Justin Martyr and Tertullian could not be mistaken about this; and the learned bishop of Cæsarea admits the truth of what they say. And in the time of the persecuting emperor Maximin, about the year of Christ 307, the heathen people forged Acts of Pilate, derogatory to the honor of our Savior, which were diligently spread abroad, to unsettle Christians, or discourage them in the profession of their faith. Of this we are informed by Eusebius in his Ecclesiastical History. Thirdly: It was customary for the governors of provinces to send to the emperor an account of remarkable transactions in places where they presided. "So thought the learned Eusebius, as we have seen. "And Pliny's letters to Trajan, still extant, are a proof of it. Philo speaks of the Acts or Memoirs of Alexandria sent to Caligula, which that emperor read with more eagerness and satisfaction than anything else. "Fourthly: It has been said to be very unlikely that Pilate should write such things to Tiberius, concerning a man whom he [Pilate] had condemned to death. "To which it is easy to reply, that if he wrote to Tiberius at all, it is very likely that he should speak favorably and honorably of the Savior. "That Pilate passed sentence of condemnation upon our Lord very unwillingly, and not without a sort of compulsion, appears from the history of the Evangelist: Matt. xxvii.; Mark xv.; Luke xxiii.; John xviii. Pilate was hard pressed. The rulers of the Jews vehemently accused our Lord to him. They said they had found him perverting the nation, and forbidding to give tribute to Cæsar, saying that himself is Christ, a king, and the like; and all without effect for a while. "Pilate still sought for expedients to set Jesus at liberty. "As his reluctance had been very manifest and public in a court of judicature, in the chief city of the nation at the time of one of their great festivals, it is highly probable that when he sent to Rome he should make some apology for his conduct. Nor could anything be more proper than to allege some of our Savior's miracles which he had heard of, and to give an account to the zeal of those who professed faith in him after his ignominious crucifixion, and openly asserted that he had risen from the dead and ascended to heaven. "Pilate would not dare in such a report to write falsehood, nor to conceal the most material circumstances of the case about which he was writing. At the trial he publicly declared his innocence: and told the Jews several times 'that he found no fault in him at all.' "And when he was going to pronounce the sentence of condemnation, he took water and washed his hands before the multitude, saying: I am innocent of the blood of this just person: 'See ye to it.' Matt. xxvii. 24. "When he wrote to Tiberius he would very naturally say something of our Lord's wonderful resurrection and ascension, which were much talked of and believed by many, with which he could not be possibly unacquainted. The mention of these things would be the best vindication of his inward persuasion, and his repeated declarations of our Lord's innocence upon trial notwithstanding the loud clamors and united accusations of the Jewish people and their rulers. "Pilate, as has been said several times, passed condemnation upon Jesus very unwillingly, and not until after long trial. "When he passed sentence upon him he gave orders that this title or inscription should be put upon the cross: 'Jesus of Nazareth, the king of the Jews.' "When he had expired, application was made to Pilate, by Joseph of Arimathea, an honorable counsellor, that the body might be taken down and buried. To which he consented; but not till assurance from the centurion that he had been sometime dead. The next day some of the priests and pharisees came to him, saying: 'Sir, we remember that that deceiver said while he was yet alive, After three days I will rise again. Command, therefore, that the sepulchre be made sure, until the third day, lest his disciples come by night and steal him away, and say unto the people, He is risen from the dead.' 'So the last error shall be worse than the first.' "Pilate said unto them: 'Ye have a watch; go your way, make it sure as you can.' So they went and made the sepulchre sure, sealing the stone and setting a watch. "Whilst they were at the sepulchre there was a 'great earthquake,' the stone was rolled away by an Angel, 'whose countenance was like lightning, and for fear of whom the guards did shake and become as dead men.' Some of the guards went down into the City, and showed unto the chief priests all the things that were done. "Nor can there be any doubt that these things came also to the governor's ears. Pilate, therefore, was furnished with materials of great importance relating to this case, very proper to be sent to the emperor. And very probably he did send them, for he could do no otherwise. "Fifthly: it is said, 'That if Pilate had sent such things to Tiberius, it is nevertheless very unlikely that Tiberius should propose to the senate that our Savior might be put among the gods, because that emperor had little or no regard for things of religion.' "But it is easy to answer that such observations are of little or no importance. Few princes are able to preserve uniformity in the whole of their conduct, and it is certain that Tiberius varied from himself upon many occasions and in different parts of his life. "Sixthly: it is further urged, that if Tiberius had proposed the thing to the senate, there can be no doubt that the senate would have immediately complied. "But neither is this difficulty insuperable; for we are assured by Suetonius that Tiberius let several things be decided by the senate contrary to his own opinion, without showing much uneasiness. (It must be observed here that Dr. Lardner is very copious in quotations from the best authorities in proof of all his statements. The reader is referred to Vol. VI of his great works, pages 605-620, where will be found these quotations in foot-notes too lengthy to be transcribed here.) "Seventhly: The right interpretation of the words of Tertullian will be of use to remove difficulties and to confirm the truth of the account. "I have translated them in this manner: 'When Tiberius referred the matter to the senate, that our Lord should be placed in the number of gods, the senate refused, because he had himself declined that honor.' "The words are understood to the like purpose by Pearson. "There is another sense, which is that of the Greek translation of Tertullian's Apology, made use of by Eusebius: 'The senate refused because it had not itself approved of it.' But that sense, if it be any sense at all, is absurd, and therefore unlikely. If none beside the senate had a right to consecrate any for the deity, yet certainly the consul or the emperor might _refer_ such a thing to that venerable body. According to Tertullian's account, the whole is in a fair way of legal proceeding." [And it may be remarked here that Tertullian, being well versed in Roman law, would hardly have passed by a blunder here or committed one in anything wherein he may have had to do with the statement.] "By virtue of an ancient law, no one might be reckoned a god (at least by the Romans) without the approbation of the senate. Tiberius having been informed of some extraordinary things concerning Jesus, referred it to the senate, that he also might be placed in the number of deities. Was it possible after this that the senate should refuse it, under a pretense that Tiberius had bestowed divinity upon Jesus without their consent, when he had done no such thing, and at the very time was referring it to their judgment in the old legal way? "Le Clerc objects that the true reading in Tertullian is not--_Non quia in se non probaverat_, but _quia non ipse probaverat_. "Be it so. The meaning is the same. _Ipse_ must intend the emperor, not the senate. The other sense is absurd, and next to a contradiction, and therefore not likely to be right, and at the same time it is a rude and needless affront. The other interpretation represents a handsome compliment, not without foundation. For it is very true that Tiberius had himself declined receiving divine honors. "Eighthly: It has been objected that Tiberius was unfriendly to the Jewish people, and therefore it must be reckoned very improbable that he should be willing to put a man who was a Jew among the gods. "But there is little or no ground for this objection. It was obviated long ago in the first part of this work, where beside other things it is said: In the reign of Tiberius the Jewish people were well used. They were indeed banished out of Italy by an edict; but it was for a misdemeanor committed by some villains of that nation. The great hardship was that many innocent persons suffered beside the guilty. "Upon other occasions Tiberius showed the Jews all the favor that could be desired, especially after the death of Sejanus; and is much applauded for it by Philo. "Ninthly: Still it is urged, 'Nothing can be more absurd than to suppose that Tiberius would receive for a deity a man who taught the worship of one God only, and whose religion decried all other deities as mere fiction.' "Upon which I must say, nothing can be more absurd than this objection. Tertullian does not suppose Tiberius to be well acquainted with the Christian religion, our Savior's doctrine. "All he says is, that, having heard of some extraordinary things concerning him, he had a desire to put him among the Roman deities. "Tenthly: Tertullian proceeds: 'Nevertheless the emperor persisted in his opinion, and ordered that if any accused the Christians they should be punished.' This was very natural. Though the senate would not put Jesus in the number of deities, the emperor was still of opinion that it might have been done. "And he determined to provide by an edict for the safety of those who professed a high regard for Jesus Christ. Which edict, as Eusebius reasonably supposes, was of use for securing the free preaching of the gospel in many places. "But the authority of that edict would cease at the emperor's demise, if not sooner. Unfortunately, it could not be in force, or have any great effect, for a long season. "Nor need we consider the ordering such an edict as in favor of the Christians as an incredible thing, if we observe what Philo says, who assures us that 'Tiberius gave orders to all the governors of provinces, to protect the Jews in the cities where they lived in the observation of their own rights and customs; and that they should bear hard on none of them, but such as were unpeaceable and transgressed the laws of the State.' "Nor is it impossible that the Christians should partake of the like civilities, they being considered as a sect of the Jews. And it is allowed that the Roman empire did not openly persecute the Christians, till they became so numerous that the heathen people were apprehensive of the total overthrow of their religion. "In the eleventh place, says a learned and judicious writer, 'It is probable that Pilate, who had no enmity toward Christ, and accounted him a man unjustly accused and an extraordinary person, might be moved by the wonderful circumstances attending and following his death, to hold him in veneration, and perhaps to think him a hero and the son of some deity. It is possible that he might send a narrative, such as he thought most convenient, of these transactions to Tiberius: but it is not at all likely that Tiberius proposed to the senate that Christ should be deified, and that the senate rejected it, and that Tiberius continued favorably disposed toward Christ, and that he threatened to punish those who should molest and accuse the Christians.' 'Observe also,' says the same learned writer, 'that the Jews persecuted the apostles, and slew Stephen, and that Saul made havoc of the church, entering into every house, and hailing men and women, committing them to prison, and that Pilate connived at all this violence, and was not afraid of the resentment of Tiberius on that account.' "Admitting the truth of all these particulars just mentioned, it does not follow that no orders were given by Tiberius for the protection of the followers of Jesus. "For no commands of princes are obeyed by all men everywhere. They are oftentimes transgressed. "Nor was any place more likely than Judea, where the enmity of many against the disciples of Jesus was so great. Nor need it be supposed that Tiberius was very intent to have this order strictly regarded. For he was upon many occasions very indolent and dilatory; and he was well known to be so. Moreover, the death of Stephen was tumultuous, and not an act of the Jewish council. And further, the influence of Pilate in that country was not now at its full height. We perceive from the history of our Lord's trial before him, as recorded in the gospels, that he stood in fear of the Jews. "He was apprehensive that, if he did not gratify them in that point, they might draw up a long list of maladministrations for the emperor's view. His condemnation of Jesus at the importunity of the Jews, contrary to his own judgment and inclination, declared to them more than once, was a point gained; and his government must have been ever after much weakened by so mean a condescension. And that Pilate's influence in the province continued to decline is manifest, in that the people of it prevailed at last to have him removed in a very ignominious manner by Vitellius, president of Syria. "Pilate was removed from his government before the Passover in the year of Christ 36. After which there was no procurator or other person with the power of life and death, in Judea, before the ascension of Herod Agrippa, in the year 41. "In that space of time the Jews would take an unusual license, and gratify their own malicious dispositions, beyond what they could otherwise have done, without control. "Twelfth: Some have objected that Tertullian is so absurd as to speak of Christians in the time of Tiberius; though it be certain that the followers of Jesus were not known by that denomination till some time afterwards. "But this is a trifling objection. Tertullian intends no more by Christians than followers of Jesus, by whatever name they were known or distinguished; whether that of Nazarenes, or Galileans, or disciples. "And it is undoubted, that the Christian religion had its rise in the reign of Tiberius; though they who professed to believe in Jesus, as risen from the dead and ascended to heaven, were not called Christians till some time afterwards. "So at the beginning of the paragraph he says, 'There was an ancient law that no god should be consecrated by the emperor, unless it was first approved by the senate.' Nevertheless, Tertullian was not so ignorant as not to know that there were not any emperors when the ancient decree was passed. "His meaning is, that no one should be deified by any man, no, not by a consul or emperor, without the approbation of the senate. "Finally: We do not suppose that Tiberius understood the doctrine of the Savior, or that he was at all inclined to be a Christian. "Nor did Tertullian intend to say any such thing, for immediately after the passage first cited from him, he adds: 'But the Cæsars themselves would have believed in Jesus Christ, if they had not been necessary for the world, or if Christians could have been Cæsars.' "Grotius appears to have rightly understood the importance of these passages of Tertullian; whose note upon Matthew xxiv. 2, I have transcribed below." The reader is referred to Vol. VI. of Lardner's Works, where he will find the notes of this learned writer, as quoted from various ancients and moderns, in proof of all he has brought forward in these lengthy arguments, and which cannot be transcribed here. "Admit, then, the right interpretation of Tertullian, and it may be allowed that what he says is not incredible or improbable. The Romans had almost innumerable deities, and yet they frequently added to that number and adopted new. As deifications were very frequent, Tiberius might have indulged a thought of placing Jesus among the established deities without intending to derogate from the worship or honor of those who were already received. "But the senate was not in a humor to gratify him. "And the reason assigned is, because the emperor himself had declined that honor, which is so plausible a pretense, and so fine a compliment, that we cannot easily suppose it to be Tertullian's own invention; which, therefore, gives credibility to his account. "Eusebius, though he acknowledged the overruling providence of God in the favorable disposition of Tiberius toward the first followers of Jesus, by which means the Christian religion in its infancy was propagated over the world with less molestation, does also say, at the beginning of the chapter quoted, 'The senate refused their consent to the emperor's proposal, under a pretence that they had not been first asked, there being an ancient law, that no one should be deified without the approbation of the senate, but, indeed,' adds he, 'because the saving and divine doctrine of the gospel needed not to be ratified by human judgment and authority.' Chrysostom's observation is to like purpose, but with some inaccuracies. It is likely that he was not at all acquainted with Tertullian; and he was no admirer of Eusebius. Perhaps he builds upon general tradition only. 'The Roman senate,' says he, 'had the power of nominating and decreeing who should be gods. When, therefore, all things concerning Christ had been published, he who was the governor of the Jewish nation sent to them to know if they would be pleased to appoint him also to be a god. But they refused, being offended and provoked, that before their decree and judgment had been obtained, the power of the crucified one had shined out and had attracted all the world to the worship of him. But, by the overruling providence of God, this was brought to pass against their will, that the divinity of Christ might not be established by human appointment and that he might not be reckoned one of the many who were deified by them.' "Some of which, as he proceeds to show, had been of infamous characters. "I shall now transcribe below in his own words what Orosius, in the fifth century, says of this matter, that all my readers may have it at once before them without looking farther for it." This quotation from Orosius will be found in the "Testimony of the Fathers," under the title, "Testimony of Orosius." "And I refer to Zonoras and Nicephoras. The former only quotes Eusebius, and transcribes into his Annals the chapter of his Ecclesiastical History quoted by me. Nor has Nicephoras done much more."[213] TISCHENDORF'S COMMENTS ON THE ACTS OF PILATE "It is the same with the second apocryphal work brought under review above, the so-called Acts of Pilate, only with the difference that they refer as much to John as to the synoptical Gospels. Justin, in like manner as before, is the most ancient voucher for this work, which is said to have been written under Pilate's jurisdiction, and by reason of its specification of wonderful occurrences before, during, and after the crucifixion, to have borne strong evidence to the divinity of Christ. Justin saw as little reason as Tertullian and others for believing that it was a work of pious deception from a Christian hand." [As has been alleged by opponents.] "On the contrary, Justin appeals to it twice in his first Apology in order to confirm the accounts of the occurrences which took place at the crucifixion in accordance with prophecy, and of the miraculous healings effected by Christ, also the subject of prophetic announcement. He cites specifically (chap. 35) from Isaiah lxv. 2, and lviii. 2: 'I have spread out my hands all the day unto a rebellious people which walketh in a way that was not good. They ask of me the ordinances of justice, they take delight in approaching to God.' Further, from the 22nd Psalm: 'They pierced my hands and my feet; they parted my garments upon them and cast lots upon my vesture.' With reference to this he remarks that Christ fulfilled this; that he did stretch forth his hands when the Jews crucified him--the men who contended against him and denied that he was Christ. 'Then,' he says further, 'as the prophet foretold, they dragged him to the judgment seat, set him upon it and said, Judge us.' The expression, however, 'they pierced,' etc., refers to the nails with which they fastened his feet and hands to the cross. And after they had crucified him they threw lots for his clothing, and they who had taken part in the act of crucifixion divided it among themselves. To this he adds: And you can learn from the Acts, composed during the governorship of Pontius Pilate, that these things really happened. "Still more explicit is the testimony of Tertullian. It may be found in Apologeticus (chap. 2) where he says that out of envy Jesus was surrendered to Pilate by the Jewish ceremonial lawyers, and by him, after he had yielded to the cries of the people, given over for crucifixion; that while hanging on the cross he gave up the ghost with a loud cry, and so anticipated the executioner's duty; that at that same hour the day was interrupted by a sudden darkness; that a guard of soldiers was set at the grave for the purpose of preventing his disciples stealing his body, since he had predicted his resurrection, but that on the third day the ground was suddenly shaken and the stone rolled away from before the sepulchre; that in the grave nothing was found but the articles used in his burial; that the report was spread abroad by those who stood outside that the disciples had taken the body away; that Jesus spent forty days with them in Galilee, teaching them what their mission should be, and that after giving them their instructions as to what they should preach, he was raised in a cloud to heaven. Tertullian closes this account with the words, 'All this was reported to the Emperor at that time, Tiberius, by Pilate, his conscience having compelled even him to become a Christian.' "The document now in our possession corresponds with this evidence of Justin and Tertullian. Even in the title it agrees with the account of Justin, although instead of the word _acta_, which he used, and which is manifestly much more Latin than Greek, a Greek expression is employed which can be shown to have been used to indicate genuine Acts. The details recounted by Justin and Tertullian are all found in our text of the Acts of Pilate, with this variation, that nothing corresponds to what is joined to the declaration of the prophet, 'They dragged him to the seat of judgment and set him upon it and said,' etc. Besides this, the casting lots for the vesture is expressed simply by the allusion to the division of the clothes. We must give even closer scrutiny to one point. Justin alludes to the miracles which were performed in fulfillment of Old Testament prophecy, on the lame, the dumb, the blind, the dead, and on lepers. In fact, in our Acts of Pilate there are made to appear before the Roman governor a palsied man who had suffered for thirty-eight years, and was brought in a bed by young men, and healed on the Sabbath day; a blind man cured by the laying on of hands; a cripple who had been restored; a leper who had been cleansed; the woman whose issue of blood had been stanched, and a witness of the raising of Lazarus from the dead. Of that which Tertullian cites we will adduce merely the passage found in no one of our gospels, that Jesus passed forty days after his resurrection in company with his disciples in Galilee. "This is indicated in our Acts of Pilate at the end of the fifteenth chapter, where the risen man is represented as saying to Joseph: 'For forty days go not out of thy house, for behold I go to my brethren in Galilee.' "Every one will perceive how strongly the argument that our Acts of Pilate are the same which Justin and Tertullian read is buttressed by these unexpected coincidences. The assertion recently made requires, consequently, no labored contradiction that the allusions to both men have grown out of their mere suspicion that there was such a record as the Acts of Pilate, or out of the circulation of a mere story about such a record, while the real work was written as the consequence of these allusions at the close of the third century. What an uncommon fancy it requires in the two men to coincide so perfectly in a single production, as is the case in the Acts to which I am now referring. And are we to imagine that they referred with such emphasis as they employed to the mere creations of their fancy? "The question has been raised with more justice, whether the production in our possession may not have been a copy or a free revision of the old and primitive one. The modern change in the title has given support to this conjecture, for it has occasioned the work to be commonly spoken of as the Gospel of Nicodemus. But this title is borne neither by any Greek manuscript, the Coptic-Sahidian papyrus, nor the Latin manuscripts with the exception of a few of the most recent. It may be traced only subsequently to the twelfth century, although at a very early period, in one of the two prefaces attached to the work, Nicodemus is mentioned in one place as a Hebrew author and in another as a Greek translator. But aside from the title, the handwriting displays great variation, and the two prefaces alluded to above show clearly the work of two hands. Notwithstanding this, however, there are decisive grounds for holding that our Acts of Pilate contains in its main substance the document drawn from Justin and Tertullian. The first of these to be noticed is, that the Greek text, as given in the version most widely circulated in the manuscripts, is surprisingly corroborated by two documents of the rarest character, and first used by myself--a Coptic-Sahidian papyrus manuscript and a Latin palimpsest--both probably dating from the fifth century. Such a documentary confirmation of their text is possessed by scarcely ten works of the collective Greek classic literature. Both of these ancient writings make it in the highest degree probable that the Egyptian and Latin translations which they contain were executed still earlier. "But could a work which was held in great consideration in Justin's and Tertullian's time and down to the commencement of the fourth century, and which strenuously insists that the Emperor Maximin caused other blasphemous Acts of Pilate to be published and zealously circulated, manifestly for the purpose of displacing and discrediting the older Christian Acts--could such a work suddenly change its whole form, and from the fifth century, to which in so extraordinary a manner translators, wholly different in character, point back with such wonderful concurrence, continue in the new form? Contrary as this is to all historical criticism, there is in the contents of the work, in the singular manner in which isolated and independent details are shown to be related to the canonical books, no less than in the accordance with the earliest quotations found in Justin and Tertullian, a guaranty of the greatest antiquity. "There are in the contents, also, matters of such a nature that we must confess that they are to be traced back to the primitive edition, as, for example the narrative in the first chapter of the bringing forward of the accused. "It is incorrect, moreover, to draw a conclusion from Justin's designation of the Acta which is not warranted by the whole character of the work. The Acta, the _[Greek: hypomnêmata]_, are specified in Justin's account not less than in the manuscripts which we possess, as being written _under_ Pontius Pilate, and that can signify nothing else than that they were an official production composed under the direct sanction of the Roman governor. Their transmission to the emperor must be imagined as accompanied by a letter of the same character with that which has been brought down to us in the Greek and Latin edition, and yet not at all similar in purport to the notable Acts of Pilate."[214] THE ACTS OF PILATE (_First Greek Form_) I, Ananias, of the proprætor's bodyguard, being learned in the law, knowing our Lord Jesus Christ from the Holy Scriptures, coming to Him by faith, and counted worthy of the holy baptism, searching also the memorials written at that time of what was done in the case of our Lord Jesus Christ, which the Jews had laid up in the time of Pontius Pilate, found these memorials written in Hebrew, and, by the favor of God, have translated them into Greek for the information of all who call upon the name of our Master Jesus Christ, in the seventeenth year of the reign of our lord Flavius Theodosius, and the sixth of Flavius Valentianus, in the ninth indiction. All ye, therefore, who read and transfer into other books, remember me and pray for me, and pardon my sins which I have sinned against Him. Peace be to those who read and those who hear, and to their households. Amen. * * * * * CHAPTER 1.--Having called a council, the high priests and the scribes Annas and Caiaphas and Semes and Dathaes, and Gamaliel, Judas, Levi and Nepthalim, Alexander and Jaïrus, and the rest of the Jews, came to Pilate accusing Jesus about many things, saying: We know this man to be the son of Joseph the carpenter, born of Mary; and he says that he is the Son of God, and a king; moreover, profanes the Sabbath, and wishes to do away with the law of our fathers. Pilate says: And what are the things which he does, to show that he wishes to do away with it? The Jews say: We have a law not to cure anyone on the Sabbath; but this man has, on the Sabbath, cured the lame and the crooked, the withered and the blind and the paralytic, the dumb and the demoniac, by evil practices. Pilate says to them: What evil practices? They say to him: He is a magician, and by Beelzebub, prince of the demons, he casts out the demons, and all are subject to him. Pilate says to them: This is not casting out the demons by an unclean spirit, but by the god Esculapius. The Jews say to Pilate: We entreat your highness that he stand at the tribunal and be heard. And Pilate, having called them, says: Tell me how I, being a procurator, can try a king? They say to him: We do not say that he is a king, but he himself says that he is. And Pilate, having called the runner, says to him: Let Jesus be brought in with respect. And the runner, going out and recognizing him, adored him, and took his cloak into his hand and spread it on the ground, and says to him: My Lord, walk on this and come in, for the procurator calls thee. And the Jews, seeing what the runner had done, cried out against Pilate, saying: Why hast thou ordered him to come in by a runner, and not by a crier? for assuredly the runner, when he saw him, adored him, and spread his doublet on the ground and made him walk like a king. And Pilate, having called the runner, says to him: Why hast thou done this, and spread out thy cloak upon the earth and made Jesus walk upon it? The runner says to him: My Lord procurator, when thou didst send me to Jerusalem to Alexander, I saw him sitting upon an ass, and the sons of the Hebrews held branches in their hands and shouted; and others spread their clothes under him saying: Save now, thou who art in the highest; blessed is he that cometh in the name of the Lord. The Jews cry out and say to the runner: The sons of the Hebrews shouted in Hebrew; whence, then, hast thou the Greek? The runner says to them: I asked one of the Jews, and said: What is it they are shouting in Hebrew? And he interpreted it for me. Pilate says to them: And what did they shout in Hebrew? The Jews say to him: _Hosanna membrome baruchamma adonai._ Pilate says to them: And this hosanna, etc., how is it interpreted? The Jews say to him: Save now in the highest; blessed is he that cometh in the name of the Lord. Pilate says to them: If you bear witness to the words spoken by the children, in what has the runner done wrong? And they were silent. And the procurator says to the runner: Go out and bring him in what way thou wilt. And the runner, going out, did in the same manner as before, and says to Jesus: My Lord, come in; the procurator calleth thee. And Jesus, going in, and the standard bearers holding their standards, the tops of the standards bent down, and adored Jesus. And the Jews, seeing the bearing of the standards how they were bent down and adored Jesus, cried out vehemently against the standard bearers. And Pilate says to the Jews: Do you not wonder how the tops of the standards were bent down and adored Jesus? The Jews say to Pilate: We saw how the standard bearers bent them down and adored him. And the procurator, having called the standard bearers, says to them: Why have you done this? They say to Pilate: We are Greeks and temple slaves, and how could we adore him? and assuredly, as we were holding them up, the tops bent down of their own accord and adored him. Pilate says to the rulers of the synagogue and the elders of the people: Do you choose for yourselves men strong and powerful, and let them hold up the standards, and let us see whether they will bend down with them. And the elders of the Jews picked out twelve men powerful and strong, and made them hold up the standards six by six; and they were placed in front of the procurator's tribunal. And Pilate says to the runner: Take him outside of the Pretorium, and bring him in again in whatever way may please thee. And Jesus and the runner went out of the Pretorium. And Pilate, summoning those who had formerly held up the standards, says to them: I have sworn by the health of Cæsar, that if the standards do not bend down when Jesus comes in, I will cut off your heads. And the procurator ordered Jesus to come in the second time. And the runner did in the same manner as before, and made many entreaties to Jesus to walk on his cloak. And he walked on it and went in. And as he went in the standards were again bent down and adored Jesus. * * * * * CHAP. 2.--And Pilate, seeing this, was afraid, and sought to go away from the tribunal, but when he was still thinking of going away, his wife sent to him saying: Have nothing to do with this just man, for many things have I suffered on his account this night. And Pilate, summoning the Jews, says to them: You know that my wife is a worshiper of God, and prefers to adhere to the Jewish religion along with you. They say to him: Yes, we know. Pilate says to them: Behold, my wife has sent to me, saying, Have nothing to do with this just man, for many things have I suffered on account of him this night. And the Jews answering, say unto Pilate: Did we not tell thee that he was a sorcerer? Behold, he has sent a dream to thy wife. And Pilate, having summoned Jesus, says to him: What do these witness against thee? Sayest thou nothing? And Jesus said: Unless they had the power, they would say nothing; for every one has the power of his own mouth to speak both good and evil. They shall see to it. And the elders of the Jews answered, and said to Jesus: What shall we see? First, that thou wast born of fornication; secondly, that thy birth in Bethlehem was the cause of the murder of the infants; thirdly, that thy father Joseph and thy mother Mary fled into Egypt because they had no confidence in the people. Some of the bystanders, pious men of the Jews, say: We deny that he was born of fornication; for we know that Joseph espoused Mary, and he was not born of fornication. Pilate says to the Jews who said he was of fornication: This story of yours is not true, because they were betrothed, as also these fellow-countrymen of yours say. Annas and Caiaphas say to Pilate: All the multitude of us cry out that he was born of fornication, and are not believed; these are proselytes and his disciples. And Pilate, calling Annas and Caiaphas, says to them: What are proselytes? They say to him: They are by birth children of the Greeks, and have now become Jews. And those that said that he was not born of fornication, viz.: Lazarus, Asterius, Antonius, James, Amnes, Zeras, Samuel, Isaac, Phinees, Crispus, Agrippas and Judas, say: We are not proselytes, but are children of the Jews, and speak the truth; for we were present at the betrothal of Joseph and Mary. And Pilate, calling these twelve men who said that he was not born of fornication, says to them: I adjure you, by the health of Cæsar, to tell me whether it be true that you say, that he was not born of fornication. They say to Pilate: We have a law against taking oaths, because it is a sin; but they will swear by the health of Cæsar that it is not as we have said, and we are liable to death. Pilate says to Annas and Caiaphas: Have you nothing to answer to this? Annas and Caiaphas say to Pilate: These twelve are believed when they say that he was not born of fornication; all the multitude of us cry out that he was born of fornication, and that he is a sorcerer; and he says that he is the Son of God and a king, and we are not believed. And Pilate orders all the multitude to go out, except the twelve men who said that he was not born of fornication, and he ordered Jesus to be separated from them. And Pilate says to them: For what reason do they wish to put him to death? They say to him: They are angry because he cures on the Sabbath. Pilate says: For a good work do they wish to put him to death? They say to him: Yes. * * * * * CHAP. 3.--And Pilate, filled with rage, went outside of the Pretorium and said to them: I take the sun to witness that I find no fault in this man. The Jews answered and said to the procurator: Unless this man were an evil-doer, we should not have delivered him to thee. And Pilate said: Do you take him and judge him according to your law. The Jews said to Pilate: It is not lawful for us to put anyone to death. Pilate said: Has God said that you are not to put to death, but that I am? And Pilate went again into the Pretorium and spoke to Jesus privately, and said to him: Art thou the king of the Jews? Jesus answered Pilate: Dost thou say this of thyself, or have others said it to thee of me? Pilate answered Jesus: Am I also a Jew? Thy nation and the chief priests have given thee up to me. What hast thou done? Jesus answered: My kingdom is not of this world; for if my kingdom were of this world, my servants would fight in order that I should not be given up to the Jews: but now my kingdom is not from thence. Pilate said to him: Art thou, then, a king? Jesus answered him: Thou sayest that I am king. Because for this have I been born, and I have come, in order that everyone who is of the truth might hear my voice. Pilate says to him: What is truth? Jesus says to him: Truth is from heaven. Pilate says: Is truth not upon earth? Jesus says to Pilate: Thou seest how those who speak the truth are judged by those that have the power upon earth. * * * * * CHAP. 4.--And leaving Jesus within the Pretorium, Pilate went out to the Jews and said to them: I find no fault in him. The Jews say to him: He said, I can destroy this temple, and in three days build it. Pilate says: What temple? The Jews say: The one that Solomon built in forty-six years, and this man speaks of pulling it down and building it up in three days. Pilate says to them: I am innocent of the blood of this just man. See you to it. The Jews say: His blood be upon us and upon our children. And Pilate, having summoned the elders and priests and Levites, said to them privately: Do not act thus, because no charge that you bring against him is worthy of death; for your charge is about curing and Sabbath profanation. The elders and the priests and the Levites say: If anyone speak evil against Cæsar, is he worthy of death or not? Pilate says: He is worthy of death. The Jews say to Pilate: If anyone speak evil against Cæsar, he is worthy of death; but this man has spoken evil against God. And the procurator ordered the Jews to go outside of the Pretorium; and, summoning Jesus, he says to him: What shall I do to thee? Jesus says to Pilate: As it has been given to thee. Pilate says: How given? Jesus says: Moses and the prophets have proclaimed beforehand of my death and resurrection. And the Jews, noticing this and hearing it, say to Pilate: What more wilt thou hear of this blasphemy? Pilate says to the Jews: If these words be blasphemous, do you take him for the blasphemy, and lead him away to your synagogue and judge him according to your law. The Jews say to Pilate: Our law bears that a man who wrongs his fellow-men is worthy to receive forty save one: but he that blasphemeth God is to be stoned with stones. Pilate says to them: Do you take him and punish him in whatever way you please. The Jews say to Pilate: We wish that he be crucified. Pilate says: He is not deserving of crucifixion. And the procurator, looking round upon the crowds of the Jews standing by, sees many of the Jews weeping, and says: All the multitude do not wish him to die. The elders of the Jews say: For this reason all the multitude of us have come, that he should die. Pilate says to the Jews: Why should he die? The Jews say: Because he called himself the Son of God and King. * * * * * CHAP. 5.--And one Nicodemus, a Jew, stood before the procurator and said: I beseech your honor let me say a few words. Pilate says: Say on. Nicodemus says: I said to the elders and the priests and Levites, and to all the multitude of the Jews in the synagogue, What do you seek to do with this man? This man does many miracles and strange things, which no one has done or will do. Let him go and do not wish any evil against him. If the miracles which he does are of God, they will stand; but if of man, they will come to nothing. For assuredly Moses, being sent by God into Egypt, did many miracles, which the Lord commanded him to do before Pharaoh, king of Egypt. And there were Jannes and Jambres, servants of Pharaoh, and they also did not a few of the miracles which Moses did; and the Egyptians took them to be gods--this Jannes and Jambres. But, since the miracles which they did were not of God, both they and those who believed in them were destroyed. And now release this man, for he is not deserving of death. The Jews say to Nicodemus: Thou hast become his disciple, and therefore thou defendest him. Nicodemus says to them: Perhaps, too, the procurator has become his disciple, because he defends him. Has the emperor not appointed him to this place of dignity? And the Jews were vehemently enraged, and gnashed their teeth against Nicodemus. Pilate says to them: Why do you gnash your teeth against him when you hear the truth? The Jews say to Nicodemus: Mayst thou receive his truth and his portion. Nicodemus says: Amen, amen; may I receive it, as you have said. * * * * * CHAP. 6.--One of the Jews, stepping up, asked leave of the procurator to say a word. The procurator says: If thou wishest to say anything, say on. And the Jew said: Thirty-eight years I lay in my bed in great agony. And when Jesus came, many demoniacs and many lying ill of various diseases were cured by him. And when Jesus saw me he had compassion on me, and said to me: Take up thy couch and walk. And I took up my couch and walked. The Jews say to Pilate: Ask him on what day it was when he was cured. He that had been cured says: On a Sabbath. The Jews say: Is not this the very thing we said, that on a Sabbath he cures and casts out demons? And another Jew stepped up and said: I was born blind; I heard sounds, but saw not a face. And as Jesus passed by I cried out with a loud voice, Pity me, O son of David. And he pitied me and put his hands upon my eyes, and I instantly received my sight. And another Jew stepped up and said: I was crooked and he straightened me with a word. And another said: I was a leper, and be cured me with a word. * * * * * CHAP. 7.--And a woman cried out from a distance and said: I had an issue of blood, and I touched the hem of his garment, and the issue of blood, which I had had for twelve years, was stopped. The Jews say: We have a law that a woman's evidence is not received. * * * * * CHAP. 8.--And others, a multitude both of men and women, cried out, saying: This man is a prophet, and the demons are subject to him. Pilate says to them who said that the demons were subject to him: Why, then, were not your teachers also subject to him? They say to Pilate: We do not know. And others said: He raised Lazarus from the tomb after he had been dead four days. And the procurator trembled, and said to all the multitude of the Jews: Why do you wish to pour out innocent blood? * * * * * CHAP. 9.--And, having summoned Nicodemus and the twelve men that said he was not born of fornication, he says to them: What shall I do, because there is an insurrection among the people? They say to him: We know not; let them see to it. Again Pilate, having summoned all the multitude of the Jews, says: You know that it is customary, at the feast of unleavened bread, to release one prisoner to you. I have one condemned prisoner in the prison, a murderer named Bar Abbas, and this man standing in your presence, Jesus in whom I find no fault. Which of them do you wish me to release to you? And they cry out: Bar Abbas. Pilate says: What, then, shall we do to Jesus, who is called Christ? The Jews say: Let him be crucified. And others said: Thou art no friend of Cæsar's if thou release this man, because he called himself the Son of God and King. You wish this man, then, to be a king, and not Cæsar? And Pilate, in a rage, says to the Jews: Always has your nation been rebellious, and you always speak against your benefactors. The Jews say: What benefactors? He says to them: Your God led you out of the land of Egypt from bitter slavery, and brought you safe through the sea as through dry land, and in the desert fed you with manna and gave you quails, and quenched your thirst with water from a rock, and gave you a law; and in all these things have you provoked your God to anger, and sought a molten calf. And you exasperated your God, and he sought to slay you. And Moses prayed for you, and you were not put to death. And now you charge me with hating the emperor. And, rising up from the tribunal, he sought to go out. And the Jews cry out and say: We know that Cæsar is king, and not Jesus. For assuredly the magi brought gifts to him as to a king. And when Herod heard from the magi that a king had been born, he sought to slay him, and his father, Joseph, knowing this, took him and his mother, and they fled into Egypt. And Herod, hearing of it, destroyed the children of the Hebrews that had been born in Bethlehem. And when Pilate heard these words he was afraid; and, ordering the crowd to keep silence, because they were crying out, he says to them: So this is he whom Herod sought? The Jews say: Yes, it is he. And, taking water, Pilate washed his hands in the face of the sun, saying: I am innocent of the blood of this just man: see you to it. Again the Jews cry out: His blood be upon us and upon our children. Then Pilate ordered the curtain of the tribunal where he was sitting to be drawn, and says to Jesus: Thy nation has charged thee with being a king. On this account, I sentence thee first to be scourged, according to the enactment of venerable kings, and then to be fastened on the cross in the garden where thou was seized. And let Dysmas and Gestas, the two malefactors, be crucified with thee. * * * * * CHAP. 10.--And Jesus went forth out of the Pretorium, and the malefactors with him. And when they came to the place they stripped him of his clothes and girded him with a towel, and put a crown of thorns on him round his head. And they crucified him; and at the same time, also, they hung up the two malefactors along with him. And Jesus said: Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do. And the soldiers parted his clothes among them; and the people stood looking at him. And the chief priests and the rulers with them mocked him, saying: He saved others, let him save himself. If he be the Son of God, let him come down from the cross. And the soldiers made sport of him, coming near and offering him vinegar mixed with gall, and said: Thou art the king of the Jews; save thyself. And Pilate, after the sentence, ordered the charge against him to be inscribed as a superscription in Greek and Latin and Hebrew, according to what the Jews had said: He is king of the Jews. And one of the malefactors hanging up spoke to him, saying: If thou be the Christ, save thyself and us. And Dysmas answering reproved him, saying: Dost thou not fear God, because thou art in the same condemnation? And we, indeed, justly, for we receive the fit punishment of our deeds; but this man has done no evil. And he said to Jesus: Remember me, Lord, in thy kingdom. And Jesus said to him: Amen, amen; I say to thee, To-day shalt thou be with me in Paradise. * * * * * CHAP. 11.--And it was about the sixth hour, and there was darkness over the earth until the ninth hour, the sun being darkened; and the curtain of the temple was split in the middle. And, crying out with a loud voice, Jesus said: Father, _baddach ephkid ruel_, which is, interpreted, Into thy hands I commit my spirit. And, having said this, he gave up the ghost. And the centurion, seeing what had happened, glorified God and said: This was a just man. And all the crowds that were present at this spectacle, when they saw what had happened, beat their breasts and went away. And the centurion reported what had happened to the procurator. And when the procurator and his wife heard it they were exceedingly grieved, and neither ate nor drank that day. And Pilate sent for the Jews and said to them: Have you seen what has happened? And they say: There has been an eclipse of the sun in the usual way. And his acquaintances were standing at a distance, and the women who came with him from Galilee, seeing these things. And a man named Joseph, a councillor from the city of Arimathea, who also waited for the kingdom of God, went to Pilate and begged the body of Jesus. And he took it down and wrapped it in a clean linen, and placed it in a tomb hewn out of the rock, in which no one had ever lain. * * * * * CHAP. 12.--And the Jews, hearing that Joseph had begged the body of Jesus, sought him, and the twelve who said that Jesus was not born of fornication, and Nicodemus and many others who had stepped up before Pilate and declared his good works. And of all these that were hid Nicodemus alone was seen by them, because he was a ruler of the Jews. And Nicodemus says to them: How have you come into the synagogue? The Jews say to him: How hast thou come into the synagogue? for thou art a confederate of his, and his portion is with thee in the world to come. Nicodemus says: Amen, amen. And likewise Joseph also stepped out and said to them: Why are you angry against me because I begged the body of Jesus? Behold, I have put him in my new tomb, wrapping him in clean linen; and I have rolled a stone to the door of the tomb. And you have acted not well against the just man, because you have not repented of crucifying him, but also have pierced him with a spear. And the Jews seized Joseph and ordered him to be secured until the first day of the week, and said to him: Know that the time does not allow us to do anything against thee, because the Sabbath is dawning: and know that thou shalt not be deemed worthy of burial, but we shall give thy flesh to the birds of the air. Joseph says to them: These are the words of the arrogant Goliath, who reproached the living God and holy David. For God has said by the prophet, Vengeance is mine, and I will repay, saith the Lord. And now that he is uncircumcised in flesh, but circumcised in heart, has taken water and washed his hands in the face of the sun, saying, I am innocent of the blood of this just man; see ye to it. And you answered and said to Pilate: His blood be upon us and upon our children. And now I am afraid, lest the wrath of God come upon you and upon your children, as you have said. And the Jews, hearing these words, were embittered in their souls, and seized Joseph and locked him into a room where there was no window; and guards were stationed at the door, and they sealed the door where Joseph was locked in. And on the Sabbath the rulers of the synagogue and the priests and the Levites made a decree that all should be found in the synagogue on the first day of the week. And, rising up early, all the multitude in the synagogue consulted by what death they should slay him. And when the Sanhedrin was sitting, they ordered him to be brought with much indignity. And, having opened the door, they found him not. And all the people were surprised and struck with dismay, because they found the seals unbroken, and because Caiaphas had the key. And they no longer dared to lay hands upon those who had spoken before Pilate in Jesus' behalf. * * * * * CHAP. 13.--And while they were still sitting in the synagogue and wondering about Joseph, there came some of the guard whom the Jews had begged of Pilate to guard the tomb of Jesus, that his disciples might not come and steal him. And they reported to the rulers of the synagogue, and the priests and Levites, what had happened: how there had been an earthquake; and we saw an angel coming down from heaven, and he rolled away the stone from the mouth of the tomb and sat upon it; and he shone like snow and like lightning. And we were very much afraid, and lay like dead men; and we heard the voice of the angel, saying to the women who remained beside the tomb, Be not afraid, for I know that you seek Jesus, who was crucified. He is not here. He has risen, as he said. Come, see the place where the Lord lay; and go quickly and tell his disciples that he is risen from the dead, and is in Galilee. The Jews say: To what women did he speak? The men of the guard say: We know not who they were. The Jews say: At what time was this? The men of the guard say: At midnight. The Jews say: And wherefore did you not lay hold of them? The men of the guard say: We were like dead men from fear, not expecting to see the light of day, and how could we lay hold of them? The Jews say: As the Lord liveth, we do not believe you. The men of the guard say to the Jews: You have seen so great miracles in the case of this man, and have not believed; and how can you believe us? And assuredly you have done well to swear that the Lord liveth, for indeed he does live. Again the men of the guard say: We have heard that you have locked up the man that begged the body of Jesus, and put a seal on the door; and that you have opened it and not found him. Do you, then, give us the man whom you were guarding, and we shall give you Jesus. The Jews say: Joseph has gone away to his own city. The men of the guard say to the Jews: And Jesus has risen, as we heard from the angel, and is in Galilee. And when the Jews heard these words they were very much afraid, and said: We must take care lest this story be heard, and all incline to Jesus. And the Jews called a council, and paid down a considerable money and gave it to the soldiers, saying: Say, while he slept, his disciples came by night and stole him; and if this come to the ears of the procurator we shall persuade him and keep you out of trouble. And they took it, and said as they had been instructed. * * * * * CHAP. 14.--And Phinees, a priest, and Adas, a teacher, and Haggai, a Levite, came down from Galilee to Jerusalem, and said to the rulers of the synagogue, and the priests and the Levites: We saw Jesus and his disciples sitting on the mountain called Mamilch; and he said to his disciples, Go into all the world, and preach to every creature: he that believeth and is baptized shall be saved, and he that believeth not shall be condemned. And these signs shall attend those who have believed: in my name they shall cast out demons, speak new tongues, take up serpents; and if they drink any deadly thing it shall by no means hurt them, they shall lay hands on the sick, and they shall be well. And while Jesus was speaking to his disciples we saw him taken up into heaven. The elders and priests and Levites say: Give glory to the God of Israel, and confess to him whether you have heard and seen those things, of which you have given us an account. And those who had given the account said: As the Lord liveth, the God of our fathers, Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, we heard these things, and saw him taken up into heaven. The elders and the priests and the Levites say to them: Have you come to give us this announcement, or to offer prayer to God? And they say: To offer prayer to God. The elders and the chief priests and the Levites say to them: If you have come to offer prayer to God, why, then, have you told these idle tales in the presence of all the people? Says Phinees, the priest, and Adas, the teacher, and Haggai, the Levite, to the rulers of the synagogues, and the priests and the Levites: If what we have said and seen be sinful, behold, we are before you; do to us as seems good in your eyes. And they took the law and made them swear upon it not to give any more an account of these matters to anyone. And they gave them to eat and drink and sent them out of the city, having given them also money, and three men with them; and they sent them away to Galilee. And these men, having gone into Galilee, the chief priests and the rulers of the synagogue, and the elders came together in the synagogue and locked the door, and lamented with great lamentation, saying: Is this a miracle that has happened in Israel? And Annas and Caiaphas said: Why are you so much moved? Why do you weep? Do you not know that his disciples have given a sum of gold to the guards of the tomb, and have instructed them to say that an angel came down and rolled away the stone from the door of the tomb? And the priests and elders said: Be it that his disciples have stolen his body; how is it that the life has come into his body, and that he is going about in Galilee? And they, being unable to give an answer to these things, said, after great hesitation: It is not lawful for us to believe the uncircumcised. * * * * * CHAP. 15.--And Nicodemus stood up, and stood before the Sanhedrin, saying: You say well; you are not ignorant, you people of the Lord, of these men that come down from Galilee, that they fear God, and are men of substance, haters of covetousness, men of peace; and they have declared with an oath, we saw Jesus upon the mountain Mamilch with his disciples, and he taught what we heard from him, and we saw him taken up into heaven. And no one asked them in what form he went up. For assuredly, as the book of the Holy Scriptures taught us, Helias also was taken up into heaven, and Elissæus cried out with a loud voice, and Helias threw his sheepskin upon Elissæus, and Elissæus threw his sheepskin upon the Jordan, and crossed and came into Jericho. And the children of the prophets met him and said, O Elissæus, where is thy master Helias? And he said, He has been taken up into heaven. And they said to Elissæus, Has not a spirit seized him, and thrown him upon one of the mountains? But let us take our servants with us and seek him. And they persuaded Elissæus, and he went away with them. And they sought him three days, and did not find him; and they knew that he had been taken up. And now listen to me, and let us send into every district of Israel and see, lest, perchance, Christ has been taken up by a spirit and thrown upon one of the mountains. And this proposal pleased all. And they sent into every district of Israel and sought Jesus, and did not find him; but they found Joseph in Arimathea, and no one dared to lay hands on him. And they reported to the elders and the priests and the Levites: We have gone round to every district of Israel, and have not found Jesus; but Joseph we have found in Arimathea. And hearing about Joseph they were glad and gave glory to the God of Israel. And the rulers of the synagogue, and the priests and the Levites, having held a council as to the manner in which they should meet with Joseph, took a piece of paper and wrote to Joseph as follows: Peace to thee! We know that we have sinned against God, and against thee; and we have prayed to the God of Israel that thou shouldst deign to come to thy fathers and to thy children, because we all have been grieved. For, having opened the door, we did not find thee. And we know that we have counseled evil counsel against thee; but the Lord has defended thee, and the Lord himself has scattered to the winds our counsel against thee, O honorable father Joseph. And they chose from all Israel seven men, friends of Joseph, whom, also, Joseph himself was acquainted with; and the rulers of the synagogue, and the priests and the Levites say to them: Take notice; if, after receiving our letter he read it, know that he will come with you to us. But if he do not read it, know that he is ill-disposed towards us. And, having saluted him in peace, return to us. And having blest the men, they dismissed them. And the men came to Joseph and did reverence to him, and said to him: Peace to thee! And he said: Peace to you and to all the people of Israel! And they gave him the roll of the letter. And Joseph, having received it, read the letter and rolled it up, and blessed God and said: Blessed be the Lord God, who has delivered Israel, that they should not shed innocent blood, and blessed be the Lord, who sent out his angel and covered me under his wings. And he set a table for them: and they ate and drank and slept there. And they rose up early and prayed. And Joseph saddled his ass and set out with the men: and they came to the holy city Jerusalem. And all the people met Joseph and cried out: Peace to thee in thy coming in! And be said to all the people: Peace to you! and he kissed them. And the people prayed with Joseph, and they were astonished at the sight of him. And Nicodemus received him into his house and made a great feast, and called Annas and Caiaphas and the elders and the priests and the Levites to his house. And they rejoiced, eating and drinking with Joseph; and, after singing hymns, each proceeded to his own house. But Joseph remained in the house of Nicodemus. And on the following day, which was the preparation, the rulers of the synagogue and the priests and the Levites went early to the house of Nicodemus; and Nicodemus met them and said: Peace to you! And they said: Peace to thee and to Joseph, and to all thy house and to all the house of Joseph! And he brought them into his house. And all the Sanhedrin sat down, and Joseph sat down between Annas and Caiaphas; and no one dared to say a word to him. And Joseph said: Why have you called me? And they signaled to Nicodemus to speak to Joseph. And Nicodemus, opening his mouth, said to Joseph: Father, thou knowest that the honorable teachers and the priests and the Levites seek to learn a word from thee. And Joseph said: Ask. And Annas and Caiaphas, having taken the law, made Joseph swear, saying: Give glory to the God of Israel, and give him confession; for Achar, being made to swear by the prophet Jesus, did not forswear himself, but declared unto him all, and did not hide a word from him. Do thou also, accordingly, not hide from us to the extent of a word. And Joseph said: I shall not hide from you one word. And they said to him: With grief were we grieved because thou didst beg the body of Jesus and wrap it in clean linen and lay it in a tomb. And on account of this we secured thee in a room where there was no window; and we put locks and seals upon the doors, and guards kept watching where thou wast locked in. And on the first day of the week we opened and found thee not, and were grieved exceedingly; and astonishment fell upon all the people of the Lord until yesterday. And now relate to us what happened to thee. And Joseph said: On the preparation, about the tenth hour, you locked me up, and I remained all the Sabbath. And at midnight, as I was standing and praying, the room where you locked me in was hung up by the four corners, and I saw a light like lightning into my eyes. And I was afraid and fell to the ground. And some one took me by the hand and removed me from the place where I had fallen; and moisture of water was poured from my head even to my feet, and a smell of perfumes came about my nostrils. And he wiped my face and kissed me, and said to me, Fear not, Joseph: open thine eyes and see who it is that speaks to thee. And, looking up, I saw Jesus. And I trembled and thought it was a phantom; and I said the commandments, and he said them with me. Even so you are not ignorant that a phantom, if it meet anybody and hear the commandments, takes to flight. And seeing that he said them with me, I said to him, Rabbi Helias. And he said to me, I am not Helias. And I said to him, Who art thou, my lord? And he said to me, I am Jesus, whose body thou didst beg from Pilate; and thou didst clothe me with clean linen, and didst put a napkin on my face, and didst lay me in thy new tomb, and didst roll a great stone to the door of the tomb. And I said to him that was speaking to me, Show me the place where I laid thee. And he carried me away and showed me the place where I laid him; and the linen cloth was lying in it, and the napkin for his face. And I knew that it was Jesus. And he took me by the hand and placed me, though the doors were locked, in the middle of my house, and led me away to my bed and said to me, Peace to thee! And he kissed me and said to me, For forty days go not forth out of thy house; for, behold, I go to my brethren in Galilee. * * * * * CHAP. 16.--And the rulers of the synagogue, and the priests and the Levites when they heard these words from Joseph, became as dead, and fell to the ground, and fasted until the ninth hour. And Nicodemus, along with Joseph, exhorted Annas and Caiaphas, the priests and the Levites, saying: Rise up and stand upon your feet, and taste bread and strengthen your souls, because to-morrow is the Sabbath of the Lord. And they rose up and prayed to God, and ate and drank, and departed every man to his own house. And on the Sabbath our teachers and the priests and Levites sat questioning each other and saying: What is this wrath that has come upon us? for we know his father and mother. Levi, a teacher, says: I know that his parents fear God, and do not withdraw themselves from the prayers, and give the tithes thrice a year. And when Jesus was born his parents brought him to this place and gave sacrifices and burnt offerings to God. And when the great teacher, Symeon, took him into his arms, he said, Now thou sendest away thy servant, Lord, according to thy word, in peace; for mine eyes have seen thy salvation, which thou hast prepared before the face of all the peoples; a light for the revelation of the Gentiles, and the glory of thy people Israel. And Symeon blessed them, and said to Mary his mother, I give thee good news about this child. And Mary said, It is well, my lord. And Symeon said to her, It is well; behold, he lies for the fall and the rising again of many in Israel, and for a sign spoken against; and of thee thyself a sword shall go through the soul, in order that the reasoning of many hearts may be revealed. They say to the teacher Levi: How knowest thou these things? Levi says to them: Do you not know that from him I learned the law? The Sanhedrin say to him: We wish to see thy father. And they sent for his father. And they asked him, and he said to them: Why have you not believed my son? The blessed and just Symeon himself taught him the law. The Sanhedrin says to Rabbi Levi: Is the word that you have said true? And he said: It is true. And the rulers of the synagogue, and the priests and the Levites said to themselves: Come, let us send into Galilee to the three men that came and told about his teaching and his taking up, and let them tell us how they saw him taken up. And this saying pleased all. And they sent away the three men who had already gone away into Galilee with them; and they say to them: Say to Rabbi Adas and Rabbi Phinees and Rabbi Haggai, Peace to you and all who are with you! A great inquiry having taken place in the Sanhedrin, we have been sent to you to call you to this holy place, Jerusalem. And the men set out into Galilee and found them sitting and considering the law: and they saluted them in peace. And the men who were in Galilee said to those who had come to them: Peace unto all Israel! And they said: Peace to you! And they again said to them: Why have you come? And those who had been sent said: The Sanhedrin call you to the holy city Jerusalem. And when the men heard that they were sought by the Sanhedrin they prayed to God, and reclined with the men and ate and drank, and rose up and set out in peace to Jerusalem. And on the following day the Sanhedrin sat in the synagogue, and asked them, saying: Did you really see Jesus sitting on the mountain Mamilch teaching his eleven disciples, and did you see him taken up? And the men answered them and said: As we saw him taken up, so also we said. Annas says: Take them away from one another and let us see whether their account agrees. And they took them away from one another. And first they call Adas and say to him: How didst thou see Jesus taken up? Adas says: While he was yet sitting on the mountain Mamilch and teaching his disciples, we saw a cloud overshadowing both him and his disciples. And the cloud took him up into heaven, and his disciples lay upon their faces upon the earth. And they call Phinees, the priest, and ask him also, saying: How didst thou see Jesus taken up? And he spoke in like manner. And they again asked Haggai, and he spoke in like manner. And the Sanhedrin said: The law of Moses holds: At the mouth of two or three every word shall be established. Buthem, a teacher, says: It is written in the law, And Enoch walked with God, and is not, because God took him. Jaïrus, a teacher, said: And the death of holy Moses we have heard of, and have not seen it; for it is written in the law of the Lord, and Moses died from the mouth of the Lord, and no man knoweth of his sepulchre unto this day. And Rabbi Levi said: Why did Rabbi Symeon say, when he saw Jesus, "Behold, he lies for the fall and rising again of many in Israel, and for a sign spoken against"? And Rabbi Isaac said: It is written in the law, Behold, I send my messenger before thy face, who shall go before thee to keep thee in every good way, because my name has been called upon him. Then Annas and Caiaphas said: Rightly have you said what is written in the law of Moses, that no one saw the death of Enoch, and no one has named the death of Moses; but Jesus was tried before Pilate, and we saw him receiving blows and spittings on his face, and the soldiers put about him a crown of thorns, and he was scourged and received sentence from Pilate, and was crucified upon the Cranium, and two robbers with him; and they gave him to drink vinegar with gall, and Longinus, the soldier, pierced his side with a spear; and Joseph, our honorable father, begged his body, and he says he is risen; and as the three teachers say, We saw him taken up into heaven; and Rabbi Levi has given evidence of what was said by Rabbi Symeon, and that he said, Behold, he lies for the fall and rising again of many in Israel, and for a sign spoken against. And all the teachers said to all the people of the Lord: If this was from the Lord, and is wonderful in your eyes, knowing you shall know, O house of Jacob, that it is written, Cursed is every one that hangeth upon a tree. And another scripture teaches: The gods which have not made the heaven and the earth shall be destroyed. And the priests and the Levites said to each other: If this memorial be until the year that is called Jobel, know that it shall endure forever, and he hath raised for himself a new people. Then the rulers of the synagogue, and the priests and the Levites, announced to all Israel, saying: Cursed is that man who shall worship the work of man's hand, and cursed is the man who shall worship the creatures more than the Creator. And all the people said, Amen, amen. And all the people praised the Lord, and said: Blessed is the Lord, who hath given rest to his people Israel, according to all that he hath spoken; there hath not fallen one word of every good word of his that he spoke to Moses, his servant. May the Lord our God be with us, as he was with our fathers; let him not destroy us. And let him not destroy us, that we may incline our hearts to him, that we may walk in all his ways, that we may keep his commandments and his judgments which he commanded to our fathers. And the Lord shall be for a king over all the earth in that day; and there shall be one Lord, and his name one. The Lord is our king; he shall save us. There is none like thee, O Lord. Great art thou, O Lord, and great is thy name. By thy power heal us, O Lord, and we shall be healed; save us, O Lord, and we shall be saved, because we are thy lot and heritage. And the Lord will not leave his people, for his great name's sake; for the Lord has begun to make us into his people. And all, having sung praises, went away each man to his own house glorifying God; for his is the glory forever and ever. Amen. FOOTNOTES: [1] Mommsen, "Römisches Staatsrecht," III. I. p. 748. [2] "The Jewish People in the Time of Jesus Christ," 2d Div., I. p. 185. [3] "The Jewish People in the Time of Jesus Christ," 2d Div., I. p. 187. [4] Josephus, "Wars of the Jews," II. 8, 1. [5] Josephus, "Ant.," XX. 9, 1. [6] John xix. 10. [7] John xviii. 31. [8] Acts xxv., xxvi. [9] "The Trial of Jesus," p. 77. [10] "The Jewish People in the Time of Jesus Christ," 1st Div., II. p. 74. [11] "The Legal Procedure of Cicero's Time," p. 118. [12] "The Legal Procedure of Cicero's Time," p. 118. [13] "The Trial of Jesus," p. 293. [14] "The Legal Procedure of Cicero's Time," p. 413. [15] "Geschichte des römischen Criminalprocesses." [16] "The Trial of Jesus," pp. 291-93. [17] Dionysius II. 14. [18] Liv. II. iv. 5. [19] Heuzey, "Miss. archeol. de Maced.," p. 38. [20] Accusatores multos esse in civitate utile est, ut metu contineatur audacia (pro Roscio Amer. 20). [21] Persa V. 63 _seq._ [22] Fiske, "Manual of Classical Literature," III. Sec. 264. [23] Gibbon, "The Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire," Chap. XLIV. [24] Const. crim. Theres., Art. 5, par. 2. [25] Keim, "Jesus of Nazara," vol. vi. p. 250. [26] Keim, "Jesus of Nazara," vol. vi. p. 250. [27] John xix. 38-41. [28] "History of Madagascar," vol. i. p. 371, 372. [29] "Records of Travel in Turkey and Greece," vol. i. p. 447. [30] "The Celtic Druids," p. 126; "Anacalypsis," vol. i. p. 317. [31] "Anacalypsis," vol. i. p. 217. [32] Colenso's "Pentateuch Examined," vol. vi. p. 115. [33] Baring-Gould, "Curious Myths," p. 291. [34] "Octavius," Chap. XXIX. [35] "Ancient Art and Mythology," p. 30. [36] Brinton, "The Myths of the New World," p. 95. [37] Baring-Gould, "Curious Myths," p. 299. [38] Vol. iii. Art., "Cross." [39] Kingsborough, "Mexican Antiquities," vol. vi. 166. p. [40] "Curious Myths," p. 311. [41] "Digest," XLVIII. 4. [42] "De Inventione," II. 17. [43] Tacitus, "Annals," p. 215. [44] Dio, Lib. LVIII. [45] "Annals," B. VI. Chap. II. [46] Döllinger, "The Gentile and the Jew," vol. ii. p. 33. [47] Döllinger, "The Gentile and the Jew," vol. ii. p. 172. [48] "Liberty, Equality, Fraternity," pp. 89, 90. [49] De Legibus. [50] Correspondence between Pliny and Trajan, Letters XCVII, XCVIII. [51] Suet., "Cæsar Augustus," Chap. LXIV. [52] Philo, "De Legatione ad Cajum," Sec. 38, ed. Mangey, II. 589 _sq._ [53] Josephus, "Ant.," XVIII. 3, 1. [54] Apol. c. 21 ("jam pro sua conscientia Cristianum"). [55] "Historical Lectures," 6th ed. p. 350. [56] Josephus, "Ant.," XVIII. 3, 2. [57] Scott, "Anne of Geierstein," Chap. I. [58] Gessner, "Descript. Mont. Pilat," Zürich, 1555. [59] Golbery, "Univers Pittoresque de la Suisse," p. 327. [60] Matt. xxvii. 1, 2. [61] Mark xv. 1. [62] Keim, "Jesus of Nazara," vol. vi. p. 84. [63] Josephus, "Wars of the Jews," II. 14, 8; II. 15, 1. [64] Keim, "Jesus of Nazara," vol. vi. p. 87. [65] Geikie, "The Life and Words of Christ," vol. ii. p. 533. [66] Acts xxiv. 1. [67] Acts xxv. 16. [68] John xviii. 30. [69] John xviii. 31. [70] Act IV. Scene i. [71] Luke xxiii. 2. [72] Acts xviii. 14, 15. [73] Matt. xxii. 21. [74] Matt. xvii. 24, 25. [75] Matt. xxvi. 18, 19. [76] Josephus, "Ant.," XVII. 10, 5. [77] Josephus, "Ant.," XVII. 10, 6. [78] Josephus, "Ant.," XVII. 10, 7. [79] John xviii. 33. [80] Matt. xx. 25. [81] Matt. xi. 8. [82] John xviii. 34. [83] John xviii. 36. [84] John xviii. 37. [85] John xviii. 38. [86] Luke xxiii. 5. [87] Luke xiii. 32. [88] Luke xxiii. 8. [89] Josephus, "Ant.," XVIII. 7, 1, 2. [90] Luke xxiii. 9. [91] Luke xxxii. 10. [92] Luke xxiii. 11. [93] Tacitus, "Hist.," II. 89. [94] Luke xxiii. 12. [95] Luke xxiii. 13-16. [96] Luke xxiii. 17. [97] Livy v. 13: "Vinctis quoque demptu vincula." [98] Matt. xxvii. 16-18. [99] Matt. xxvii. 20-22. [100] Vie, par. 131. [101] Luke xxvii. 19. [102] John xix. 7. [103] John xix. 9. [104] John xix. 15. [105] John xix. 15. [106] John xix. 12. [107] Matt. xxvii. 24. [108] Matt. xxvii. 26-31. [109] Keim, "Jesus of Nazara," vol. vi. p. 87. [110] Geikie, "The Life and Words of Christ," vol. ii. p. 533. [111] Geikie, "The Life and Words of Christ," vol. ii. p. 532. [112] Acts xxiv.; xxv. II; xxvi. 32. [113] Matt. xxvii. 11. [114] Mark xv. 2. [115] Luke xxiii. 3. [116] John xviii. 37. [117] Luke xxiii. 4-16. [118] Luke xxiii. 23, 24. [119] "Liberty, Equality, Fraternity," p. 87. [120] "Liberty, Equality, Fraternity," pp. 93-95. [121] L. 12, Cod. De poenis, ix. 47: "Vanæ voces populi non sunt audiendæ, nec enim vocibus eorum credi oportet quando aut noxium crimine absolvi aut innocentem condemnari desiderant." [122] John xix. 10. [123] Dr. Smith's "History of Greece," Chap. XXXV. p. 418. [124] 1 Tim. iii. 16. [125] See Dict. Philos. Art. "Religion." [126] "Emile." [127] "Sartor Resartus," 137, 140. [128] "Herzog's Encyc." vol. v. 751. Art. "Herder." [129] "Vergängl. u. Bleibendes im Christenthum," 132. [130] "Études d'Hist. Rel.," pp. 213, 214. [131] "Jesus of Nazara," vol. vi. pp. 430, 431. [132] Montholon, "Récit de la Captivité de l'Emp. Napoleon." [133] Bertrand's "Memoirs," Paris, 1844. [134] "Je meurs dans la religion catholique, apostolique et romaine, dans le sein de laquelle je suis né, il y a plus de cinquante ans." [135] Döllinger, "The Gentile and the Jew," vol ii. p. 29. [136] "Preparation of the World for Christ," pp. 380, 381. [137] Suetonius, "Cæsar Augustus," Chap. XCV. [138] Matt. i. 20. [139] Matt. ii. 13. [140] Suetonius, "Cæsar Augustus," Chap. XCIV. [141] Suetonius, "Cæsar Augustus," Chap. XCII. [142] Döllinger, "The Gentile and the Jew," vol. ii. p. 185. [143] Liv. xl. 59. [144] Ap. Aug. C.D. VI. 2. [145] Döllinger, vol. ii. p. 183. [146] Suetonius, "Caligula," Chap. V. [147] Mabillon, "Iter. Ital." p. 77. [148] Pausanias, ix. 17. 1. [149] De Superst. 6. [150] M. Dic, quæso, num te illa terrent? Triceps apud inferos Cerberus? Cocyti fremitus? travectio Acherontis? "Mento summam aquam attingens enectus siti, Tantalus, tum illud quod, Sisiphus versat Saxum sudans nitendo neque proficit hilum," fortasse etiam inexorabiles judices Minor et Rhadamanthus? apud quos nec te L. Crassus defendet, nec M. Antonius; nec, quoniam apud Græcos judices res agetur, poteris adhibere Demosthenen; tibi ipsi pro te erit maxima corona causa dicenda. Hæc fortasse metuis, et idcirco mortem censes esse sempiternum malum. A. Adeone me delirare censes, ut ista esse credam? M. An tu hæc non credis? A. Minime vero. M. Male hercule narras. A. Cur, quæso. M. Quia disertus esse possem, si contra ista dicerem. [151] Sallust, "Bellum Catilinarium, 50." [152] Renan, "Les Apôtres." [153] "Hamlet," Act III, Scene i. [154] Döllinger, vol. ii. pp. 175-79. [155] Dion. ii. 25. [156] Döllinger, vol. ii. pp. 267-69. [157] Suetonius, "Julius Cæsar," l-li. [158] Xen. de Rep. Lac. i. 8. [159] "Polyb. Fragm." in Scr. Vet. Nov. Coll. ed. Mav. ii. 384. [160] Döllinger, vol. ii. p. 249. [161] "Xen. Mem. Socr." iii. 13. [162] Plutarch, "Life of Lucullus." [163] Fisher, "The Beginnings of Christianity," p. 205. [164] "Encyc. Brit." vol. iii. p. 436. [165] Plutarch, "Life of Cato." [166] Cicero, "Pro Cluent." 66. [167] Tacitus, "Annals," 42-44. [168] De Pressensé, "The Religions Before Christ," p. 158. [169] Milman's "Gibbon's Rome," vol. i. p. 51. [170] Suetonius, "Caligula," Chap. V. [171] Fisher, "The Beginnings of Christianity," p. 213. [172] Pliny, Ep. X. 38. [173] Suetonius, "Julius Cæsar," Chap. XLIX. [174] Döllinger, vol. ii. pp. 253, 254. [175] Döllinger, vol. ii. pp. 205, 206. [176] Döllinger, vol. ii. p. 207. [177] Döllinger, vol. ii. p. 208. [178] Livy, b. xxxix. Chaps. VII.-XX. [179] "----non possum ferre, Quirites, Græcam urbem." (Sat. III.) [180] Romans i. 29-31. [181] Döllinger, vol ii. pp. 155, 156. [182] Matthew Arnold's Poems--"Obermann Once More." [183] Cicero, "De Fin." v. pp. 24, 69. [184] Eclogue IV. [185] Matt. ii. 4; xxi. 15; xxvi. 3, 47, 59; Mark xi. 18; xv. 11; Luke xix. 47; xx. 1; John xi. 47; xii. 20. [186] Dérembourg, "Essai sur l'histoire et la géographie de la Palestine," p. 231, note 1. [187] Josephus, "Ant.," Book XX. Chap. X. 1; XV. III. 1. [188] Josephus, "Ant." Book XV. Chap. III. 1. [189] Josephus, "Ant.," Book XVIII. Chap. II. 3; Book XX. Chap. IX, 1, 4. [190] See "Talmud," "Yoma," or "the Day of Atonement," fol. 35, recto; also Dérembourg, work above quoted, p. 230, note 2. [191] "Essai sur l'histoire et la géographie de la Palestine," p. 232. [192] Jos., "Ant.," XX. VIII. 8. [193] "Talmud," "Pesachim," or "of the Passover," fol. 57, verso. [194] The high priests designated under the name of the descendants of Eli are those who, as sons of the high priest Eli, polluted the Temple by their immorality. (See 1 Kings iii. 22-25.) [195] This Issachar was a priest of such a dainty nature that in order to touch the sacrifices he covered his hands with silk. ("Talmud," "Pesachim," or "of the Passover," fol. 57, verso.) [196] Rabbi Nathan, son of Rabbi Yechiel, was the disciple of the celebrated Moses, the preacher and first rabbi of the synagogue at Rome in the ninth century. His work forms a large folio volume, and contains some minute explanations of the most difficult passages in the "Talmud." [197] I. e., lord. [198] "Talmud," Jerus., "Horayoth," or "Regulations of Justice," fol. 84. recto. [199] "Talmud," Jerus., "Shevuoth," or "of Oaths," fol. 19, verso. [200] "Tanchumah," or "Book of Consolation," fol. 68, recto. [201] "Tanchumah," or "Book of Consolation," fol. 68, recto. [202] "Tanchumah," or "Book of Consolation," fol. 68, recto, and "Sanhedrin," fol. 110, verso. [203] "Talmud," "Shabbath," or "of the Sabbath," fol. 119, recto. [204] Luke xx. 46; Matt. xxiii. 5-7; Mark xii. 38, 39. [205] Some remarkable pages respecting the pride of the Jewish scribes and doctors may be found in Bossuet's "Meditations on the Gospel." [206] Jos., "Ant.," XVIII. I. 4. [207] Jos., "Ant.," XVIII. I. 4. [208] Munk, "Palestine," p. 515. [209] Psalms. [210] Acts xxiii. 6. [211] Matt. vi. 2, 5, 16; ix. 11, 14; xii. 2; xxiii. 5, 15, 23; Luke v. 30; vi. 2, 7; xi. 39, etc.; xviii. 12; John ix. 16; "Perkeh Avoth," or "Sentences of the Fathers," I. 16; Jos., "Ant.," XVII. II. 4; XVIII. I. 3; "Vita," 38; "Talmud," Bab., "Sotah," fol. 22, recto. [212] "From that time forth began Jesus to show unto his disciples, how that he must go unto Jerusalem, and suffer many things of the elders and chief priests and scribes." (Matt. xvi. 21.) [213] "The Credibility of the Gospel History," in the chapter on "Testimonies of Ancient Heathens," vol. vi. p. 605 _et seq._ [214] "Origin of the Four Gospels," pp. 141-50. BIBLIOGRAPHY MAIN AUTHORITIES THE BIBLE. English Authorized Version of 1611. THE TALMUD. Babylonian Recension, translated into English by Michael L. Rodkinson. New Talmud Publishing Company, New York, 1896. THE MISHNA. Edition of Surenhusius. Amsterdam, 1698-1703. Consulted by the author in the Astor Library, New York City. MINOR AUTHORITIES ABBOTT. Jesus of Nazareth, by Lyman Abbott. Harper Brothers, New York, 1882. ANDREWS. The Life of Our Lord, by Samuel J. Andrews. Charles Scribner's Sons, New York, 1906. BARING-GOULD. Curious Myths of the Middle Ages, by S. Baring-Gould. Roberts Brothers, Boston, 1880. BAUR. The Church History of the First Three Centuries, by F. C. Baur. Translated from German by A. Mendies. London, 1878. BENNY. The Criminal Code of the Jews, by Philip Berger Benny. Smith, Elder & Company, London, 1880. BLACKSTONE. Commentaries on the Laws of England, by Sir William Blackstone. Edited and annotated by Thomas M. Cooley. Callaghan & Company, Chicago, 1884. CICERO. M. Tullii Ciceronis orationes. Whittaker & Company, London, 1855. DEUTSCH. The Talmud, by Emanuel Deutsch. The Jewish Publication Society of America, Philadelphia, 1896. DÖLLINGER. The Gentile and the Jew, by John J. I. Döllinger. Two volumes. Gibbings & Company, London, 1906. EDERSHEIM. The Life and Times of Jesus the Messiah, by Alfred Edersheim. Two volumes. Longmans, Green & Company, New York, 1905. FARRAR. The Life of Christ, by Frederic W. Farrar. E. P. Dutton & Company, New York, 1883. FISHER. The Beginnings of Christianity, by George P. Fisher. Charles Scribner's Sons, New York, 1906. GEIB. Geschichte des römischen Criminalprocesses, von Dr. Gustav Geib. Weidmann'sche Buchhandlung. Leipzig, 1842. GEIKIE. The Life and Words of Christ, by Cunningham Geikie. Two volumes. Henry S. King & Company. London, 1877. GIBBON. The History of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire, by Edward Gibbon. With notes by Rev. H. H. Milman. Phillips, Sampson & Company, Boston, 1853. GRAETZ. History of the Jews, by Heinrich Graetz. Six volumes. The Jewish Publication Society of America, Philadelphia, 1891. GREENLEAF. The Testimony of the Evangelists, by Simon Greenleaf. Soney & Sage, Newark, N. J., 1903. GREENIDGE. The Legal Procedure of Cicero's Time, by A. H. J. Greenidge. Stevens & Sons, London, 1901. HARNACK. Reden und Aufsätze, von Adolf Harnack. J. Ricker'sche Verlagsbuchhandlung, Giessen, 1904. HIGGINS. Anacalypsis: An Enquiry into the Origin of Languages, Nations and Religions, by Godfrey Higgins. Longman, Brown & Longman, London, 1827. HODGE. Systematic Theology, by Charles Hodge. Charles Scribner's Sons, New York, 1892. INNES. The Trial of Jesus Christ, by A. Taylor Innes. T. & T. Clark, Edinburgh, 1905. JOSEPHUS. The Works of Flavius Josephus, Whiston's Translation. JOST. Geschichte des Judenthums, von I. M. Jost. Dörffling und Francke, Leipzig, 1857. JUVENAL. The Satires of Juvenal. George Bell & Sons, London, 1904. KEIM. Jesus of Nazara, by Theodor Keim. Six volumes. Williams & Norgate, London, 1883. LARDNER. Works of Nathaniel Lardner. Ten volumes. William Ball, London, 1838. LÉMANN. Valeur de l'assemblée qui prononça la peine de mort contre Jésus-Christ, par MM. Lémann. Translated from the French into English under the title "Jesus Before the Sanhedrin," by Prof. Julius Magath, of Oxford, Ga., in 1899. LIVY. The History of Rome, by Titus Livius. George Bell & Sons, London, 1906. LOISY. Les Évangiles Synoptiques, par Alfred Loisy. Librairie Fishbacher, Paris, 1907. MENDELSOHN. The Criminal Jurisprudence of the Ancient Hebrews, by S. Mendelsohn. M. Curlander, Baltimore, 1891. MOMMSEN. The Provinces of the Roman Empire, by Theodor Mommsen. Two volumes. Charles Scribner's Sons, New York, 1899. MONTESQUIEU. De l'Esprit Des Lois, par Montesquieu. Garnier Frères, Paris, 1905. PALEY. Evidences of Christianity, by William Paley. The Religious Tract Society, London, 1794. RABBINOWICZ. Législation Criminelle du Talmud, par I. J. M. Rabbinowicz. Chez l'auteur, Paris, 1876. RENAN. Histoire des origines du christianisme, par Joseph Ernest Renan. Paris, 1863. Livres 1-6: 1. Vie de Jésus. 2. Les apôtres. 3. Saint Paul. 4. L'Antichrist. 5. Les évangiles et la seconde génération chrétienne. 6. L'église chrétienne. ROSADI. The Trial of Jesus by Giovanni Rosadi. Dodd, Mead & Company, New York, 1905. SALVADOR. Histoire des Institutions de Moïse, par J. Salvador. Michel Lévy-Frères, Paris, 1862. SCHÜRER. The Jewish People in the Time of Jesus Christ, by Emil Schürer. Charles Scribner's Sons, New York, 1906. STEPHEN. Liberty, Equality, Fraternity, by James Fitzjames Stephen. Henry Holt & Company, New York, 1873. SUETONIUS. The Lives of the Twelve Cæsars, by C. Suetonius Tranquillus. George Bell & Sons, London, 1906. TACITUS. The Works of Tacitus. American Book Company, New York, 1904. WISE. The Martyrdom of Jesus, by Isaac M. Wise. The Bloch Publishing and Printing Company, Cincinnati & Chicago, 1888. In addition to the above, many other authorities have been consulted in the preparation of the two volumes of this work. Quotations from them are frequently found in the text, and citations are given in the notes. The author, in closing the article, entitled "Bibliography," wishes to express his sense of great indebtedness and appreciation to the numerous very valuable encyclopedias that adorn the shelves of the various libraries of New York City; and especially to The Jewish Encyclopedia, published by Funk & Wagnalls, New York and London, 1901. INDEX A Abarbanel, Isaac, on the Sanhedrin, I, 106 Ab-beth-din, vice-president of the Sanhedrin, I, 112 Abbott, Lyman, on the scribes of the Sanhedrin, I, 158 Acts of Pilate, the Apocryphal, modern criticism of, II, 327 discovery of, II, 327 Lardner on the authenticity of, II, 328 _seq._ Tischendorf on the authenticity of, II, 345 _seq._ antiquity of, II, 351 text of, II, 351 _seq._ Æbutius, Publius, part of, in the exposure of Bacchanalian orgies, II, 271 _seq._ Ædile, Roman, judicial powers of, II, 36 Æsculapius, Græco-Roman divinity, II, 198 Akiba, Jewish rabbi, Mishna systematized by, I, 79 Albanus, Roman governor, his deposition of Albanus, II, 296 Alcmene, myth of Zeus and, II, 265 Alexander, Jewish Alabarch, biographical note on, II, 299 Alexander III, pope, genuineness of "true cross" attested by bull of, II, 63 Alexandrian MS. of the Bible, I, 67 Ananias ben Nebedeus, Jewish priest, biographical note on, II, 299 family of, cursed in Talmud, II, 302 Ananos. See Annas Ananus, son of Annas, Jewish high priest, biographical note on, II, 296 Anathemas, Jewish, against the Christians, II, 307, 308 Anaxagoras, Greek philosopher, on the deification of natural forces, II, 225 his exposure of the divination of Lampon, II, 226 Annanias, author of "Acts of Pilate," II, 351 Annas (Ananos), Jewish high priest, examination of Christ before, I, 238-247 deposition of, by Gratus, I, 244; II, 20 Christ examined in house of, I, 256 biographical note on, II, 295 legendary examination of Joseph of Arimathea, II, 374, 376 Antecedent Warning, peculiar provision of Hebrew Criminal Law regarding, I, 147-152 Antistius, L., Roman tribune, impeachment of Julius Cæsar by, II, 46 Antoninus Pius, Roman emperor, persecution of Christians by, II, 78 Aphrodisia, rites of, II, 265 Aphrodite, Greek divinity, patroness of prostitutes, II, 265 Aquillius, Manlius, Roman governor, trial of, before the Comitia, II, 40 Antonius, Marcus, Roman advocate, defense of, of Manlius Aquillius, II, 40 Aristotle, Greek philosopher, on the licentiousness of Sparta, II, 241 Arnold, Matthew, on despair of Roman people, II, 286 Arnobius, Numidian writer, on the familiar treatment of Roman gods, II, 218 on the lewdness of the Roman drama, II, 267 Art, effect of, in corruption of Roman and Greek morals, II, 268 Aspasia, mistress of Pericles, II, 242 Athens, domestic licentiousness of, II, 240, 241 Athronges, Jewish peasant, revolt of, II, 110 Atticus, Numerius, Roman senator, attests ascent of Augustus to heaven, II, 234 Atys, myth of, represented on Greek and Roman stage, II, 267 Augurs, Roman priests, II, 204 spectators at licentious dramas, II, 267 Augury, modes of, II, 211 Augustus Cæsar, Roman emperor, reign and policy of, II, 25, 26 care of profligate daughter Julia, II, 83 belief of, in omens, II, 215 his chastisement of Neptune, II, 222 deification of, II, 233 Aurelius Antoninus, Marcus, Roman emperor and philosopher, persecution of Christianity by, II, 78 adoration of Serapis by, II, 217 on suicide, II, 232 B Bacchanalian orgies, Livy's account of, II, 270-283 Bacchus, Roman deity, licentious festivals of, II, 265 Barabbas (Bar Abbas) released by Pilate, II, 131, 138, 363 Baring-Gould, S., on the symbolism of the Cross, II, 66 Baths, Roman, splendor of, II, 247 Beheading of criminals under Hebrew Law, I, 91, 99 Benny, on the Talmud, I, 75 on internment in Jewish Cities of Refuge, I, 98, 99 Bernhardt, Sarah, insulted in Quebec, II, 182 Bernice (Berenice), Jewish queen, a suppliant before Florus, II, 100 Bible, the manuscripts of, I, 67 purity of text of, I, 69 anthropomorphism of, I, 336-338 influence of, II, 4, 5 "Birchath Hamminim" Jewish imprecation against Christians, II, 308 Blasphemy, discussion of charge against Christ of, I, 193-209 Hebrew definition of, I, 199-201 classification of, I, 203 Boethus, family of, cursed in Talmud, II, 301. See also Simon Bossuet, Jacques B., French divine, on the citizenship of Christ, II, 108 Brothels, Roman, dedication of, to Venus, II, 265 Burning of criminals under Hebrew Law, I, 92, 99 C Cæsar, Caius Julius, 10th legion cowed by, II, 169 superstition of, II, 205 disbelief of, in immortality, II, 229 deification of, II, 233 divorces of, II, 238 profligacy of, II, 238, 239 unnatural practices attributed to, II, 263 Caiaphas, Jewish high priest, accusation of, against Christ, before Sanhedrin, I, 190 erratic conduct of, at trial of Christ, I, 290 rôle of, in trial of Jesus before Pilate, II, 101 biographical note on, II, 295 legendary examination of Joseph of Arimathea by, II, 374, 376 Caligula, Roman emperor, deifies his sister Drusilla, II, 234 depravity of, II, 234 Cantharus, family of, cursed in Talmud, II, 301 Capital Crimes under Hebrew Criminal Law, classification and punishments of, I, 91-101 Carlyle, Thomas, on the life of Christ, II, 187 Cassius, Dion, on the labeling of Roman criminals, I, 57 Cato, Marcus Porcius, contempt of, for the haruspices, II, 228 suicide of, II, 232 divorces of, II, 237 contempt of, for Lucullus, II, 246 merciless treatment of slaves, II, 251 Catulus, Quintus, dream of, presaging accession of Augustus, II, 214 Chanania, Jewish scribe, biographical note on, II, 314 Chanania ben Chiskia, Jewish scribe, biographical note on, II, 309 Charles IX, king of France, bloody sweat of, I, 59, 60 Christianity, conflict of, with Roman paganism, I, 16; II, 76-79 Chrysostom, St. John, on the legendary desire of Tiberius to deify Christ, II, 344 Cicero, Marcus Tullius, dream of, presaging accession of Augustus, II, 215 on Roman superstition, II, 221 on Roman skepticism, II, 227 his divorce of his wife, II, 237 witticism of, upon Cæsar's gallantries, II, 239 Cities of Refuge, Jewish, internment in, I, 96-99 Claudia, granddaughter of Augustus, marriage of, to Pilate, II, 82 dream of, regarding Jesus, II, 133, 355 Claudius, Roman commander, throws sacred pullets into the sea, II, 222 Clement V, pope, and the Talmud, I, 88, 89 Coliseum, the, description of, II, 260 Comitia Centuriata, public criminal trials in, II, 37-43 miscarriage of justice in, II, 38-42 Commodus, Roman emperor, deification of, II, 234 Consul, Roman, judicial powers of, II, 36 Coke, Sir Edward, contrast between Pilate and, II, 170-172 Cornelius, son of Ceron, the elder, biographical note on, II, 321 Cross, Roman instrument of death, erroneous representations of, II, 56 forms of, II, 62 use of, by various races as religious symbol, II, 64-67 "Cross, the True," legends of, II, 62, 63 Crucifixion, Plutarch on, I, 56 history of, II, 54, 55 mode of, II, 55 pathology of, II, 58, 59 Roman citizens exempt from, II, 54 of Jesus, II, 365 Cybele, Roman deity, importation of, from Phrygia, II, 199 D Deification of Roman emperors, ceremony of, II, 234 Dembowski, Bishop, and the Talmud, I, 88 Demosthenes, on the women of Athens, II, 242 Dérembourg, Joseph, on the Jewish priestly families, II, 294 Deutsch, Emanuel, on the Talmud, I, 74, 80 on the existence of the Great Sanhedrin at the time of Christ, I, 179, 181 Diocletian, Roman emperor, deification of, II, 233 Divination, Roman modes of, II, 211 Divorce, among the Romans, II, 236-239 trivial pretexts for, II, 237, 238 Döllinger, on the Roman view of Christianity and high treason, II, 77 on divorce, and the profligacy of Roman matrons, II, 236 on the effect of art in corrupting Greek and Roman manners, II, 268 Domitian, Roman emperor, self-deification of, II, 235 Doras, Jewish elder, biographical note on, II, 321 Dorotheas, son of Nathanael, Jewish elder, biographical note on, II, 321 Drama, the, licentiousness of, among Greeks and Romans, II, 266 Dreams, interpretation of, among Romans and Greeks, II, 213, 214 Druidism, annihilation of, II, 73 Drusilla, deified by Caligula, II, 234 Dysmas, legendary name of one of the thieves crucified with Jesus, II, 364 E Edersheim, Alfred, on the existence of the Great Sanhedrin at the time of Christ, I, 177 Elders, Jewish chamber of. See Sanhedrin Eleazar ben Partah, Jewish scribe, biographical note on, II, 314 Eleazar, son of Annas, Jewish high priest, biographical note on, II, 295 Eleazar, son of Simon Boethus, Jewish high priest, biographical note on, II, 297 Eliezer, Jewish rabbi, Mishna amplified by, I, 79 Ellicott, Dr., on the character of Pilate, II, 91 Epicurus, Greek philosopher, II, 229 Epicureanism, degradation of, among Romans, II, 230 Epitaphs, irreligious Roman, II, 222, 285 Epulos, Roman priests, II, 204 Etruria, importation of haruspices from, II, 210 Eusebius, reference of, to the "Acts of Pilate," II, 329, 333, 344 Evhemere, on the Greek gods, II, 225 Evangelists, honesty of, I, 12 character of, I, 13, 14 motives of, I, 15 ability of, I, 18 candor of, I, 20-24 discrepancies of, I, 29-33 corroborative elements of narrative of, I, 34-39 impossibility of collusion among, I, 38 conformity of narrative of, with human experience, I, 39 coincidence of testimony of, with collateral circumstances, I, 52-67 narrative of, confirmed by profane historians, I, 56, 57 Evidence, rules of, under Hebrew Law, I, 144, 145 F False swearing under Hebrew Criminal Law, I, 93 Fathers, Church, writings of the, I, 68 Fecenia, Hispala, part of, in exposure of Bacchanalian orgies, II, 271 _seq._ Felix, Minucius, Christian father, controversy of, with pagans on adoration of the cross, II, 64 Flagellation, under Hebrew Criminal, I, 94 Flamens, Roman priests, II, 204 spectators at licentious dramas, II, 267 G Gallio, pro-consul of Achaia, attitude of, toward Jewish clamors, II, 107 Gamaliel, Jewish rabbi, biographical note on, II, 304 Ganymede, depraving influence of myth of rape of, II, 262 Gavazzi, Alessandro, sermons of, in Coliseum, II, 262 Geib, on the status of Judea, II, 16 on the courts of the Roman Provinces, II, 32 Geikie, Cunningham, on the non-existence of the Sanhedrin at the time of Christ, I, 181 on the character of the trial of Jesus before Sanhedrin, I, 184 Gemara, the Jerusalem and Babylonian recensions of, I, 81 relation of, to Mishna, I, 83. See also Talmud and Mishna Germanicus, Cæsar temples profaned on death of, II, 222 exposure of children born on day of death of, II, 254 Gestas, legendary name of one of thieves crucified with Jesus, II, 364 Golden House of Nero, II, 246 Gibbon, Edward, on the jurisdiction of the great Sanhedrin, I, 120 on the laws of the Twelve Tables, II, 53 on the extent of the Roman Empire, II, 196 Gladiatorial games, origin of, II, 256 gigantic scale of, in Rome, II, 256, 257 conduct of, II, 258 Gospels, the, admissibility of, as legal evidence, I, 5-12 Governors, Roman, powers of, II, 24, 27, 28, 29 forbidden to take wives to their provinces, II, 84, 85 Graetz, Heinrich, on the existence of the Sanhedrin at the time of Christ, I, 181 Greeks, superstition of, II, 223 philosophy of, II, 229 depraving effect on Romans of art, literature, and manners of, II, 240-244, 268, 284 Bacchanalian orgies introduced by, II, 270 invective of Juvenal against, II, 284 Greenidge, on the interpretation of native law by Roman proprætors, II, 31 Greenleaf, Simon, American jurist, on the admissibility of the Scriptures as legal evidence, I, 6-9 on the testimony of the Evangelists, I, 10, 11 on the legal justice of the conviction of Christ for blasphemy, I, 209 H Hacksab ben Tzitzith, Jewish elder, biographical note on, II, 320 "Hall of Hewn Stones," sessions of Sanhedrin in, I, 117 Haruspices, Roman, account of, II, 210 Helcias, Jewish treasurer, biographical note on, II, 300 Helena, Empress, legendary discovery of "true cross" by, II, 62 Hercules, Greek divinity, burning of, represented on Greek and Roman stage, II, 267 Herder, Johann, on the character of Christ, II, 187 Herod Antipas, character of, II, 120 his treatment of Jesus, II, 122-127 Herod I, the Great, last will of, II, 119, 120 arbitrary changes of, in high priesthood, II, 293 Hetairai, status of, in Athens, II, 242, 243 High priest, Jewish, vestments of, I, 158 abuses in appointment of, II, 293 Hillel, Jewish doctor, inspiration of, I, 84 Hillel, School of, and the Mishna, I, 79 dissensions of, with School of Shammai, II, 309 Homer, the bible of the Greeks, II, 264 Honorius IV, pope, and the Talmud, I, 87 Horatius, trial of, before the Comitia Centuriata, II, 40 I Ignatius, St., martyrdom of, in Coliseum, II, 261 Impalement, death by, II, 61 Infanticide, among Romans, II, 254 Inkerman, story of soldier killed at battle of, II, 191 Innes, on the trials of Jesus before the Sanhedrin, I, 185; II, 10 on the cowardice of Pilate, II, 138 Interpreters, not allowed in Jewish courts, I, 107 Imprisonment. See Law, Hebrew Criminal, I, 93 Ishmael, Jewish rabbi, and the Mishna, I, 79 Ismael ben Eliza, Jewish scribe, biographical note on, II, 309 Ismael ben Phabi, Jewish high priest, biographical note on, II, 298 family of, cursed in Talmud, II, 301 Isis, Egyptian deity, rites of, established in Rome, II, 217 Roman temples of, a resort of vice, II, 269 Issachar ben Keifar Barchi, Jewish priest, cursed in Talmud, II, 302 J James, brother of Jesus, condemnation of, by Ananus, II, 296 Janus, Roman god, invocations of, II, 207 Jehovah, appearances of, in human form, I, 343-349 Jerome, St., on the Jewish anathema against Christians, II, 308 Jesus, the Christ, human perfection of, I, 14; II, 186 scourging of, I, 56, 57 breaking of legs of, by soldiers, I, 57 bloody sweat of, I, 59, 60 physical cause of death of, I, 61, 62 watery issue of, I, 60-62 devotion of women to, I, 66 resurrection of, I, 211; II, 368 divinity of, I, 211, 212 celebrates the Paschal feast, I, 220-224 at Gethsemane, I, 224-226 arrest of, I, 225 private examination of, before high priest, I, 238-247 charged with sedition and blasphemy I, 250 annnounces his Messiahship before Sanhedrin, I, 273, 274 Messianic prophecies fulfilled in Him, I, 323-328, 341, 342 miracles of, I, 350-355 at morning session of Sanhedrin, I, 356-362 condemned to death by Sanhedrin, I, 365 His teachings treasonable under Roman law, II, 72 before Pilate, II, 96 _seq._ charged with high treason before Pilate, II, 106, 352 indictment of, before Pilate, II, 107-109 acquitted by Pilate, II, 116 sent by Pilate to Herod, II, 118 before Herod, II, 119 _seq._ mocked, and sent back to Pilate by Herod, II, 127 second appearance of, before Pilate, II, 129 _seq._ delivered to Jews by Pilate, II, 138 mocked by mob, II, 139 tributes of skeptics to, II, 187 Napoleon's tribute to, II, 189, 190 charged by Jews with illegitimacy, II, 356 crucifixion of, II, 365 See also trial of Jesus, Hebrew, and trial of Jesus, Roman Jesus ben Sie, Jewish high priest, biographical note on, II, 298 Jews, the political state of, at time of Jesus, II, 11-23 discussion of their responsibility for Christ's death, II, 174-180 prejudices against, II, 180-187 distinguished, II, 185, 186 Joazar, Jewish high priest, biographical note on, II, 296 Jochanan ben Zakai, Jewish scribe, biographical note on, II, 311 John, St., at the sepulcher, I, 37 at the crucifixion of Christ, I, 65 John, St., Gospel of, style of, I, 19 John, Jewish priest, biographical note on, II, 299 Jonathan, son of Annas, Jewish high priest, biographical note on, II, 295 Jonathan ben Uziel, Jewish scribe, biographical note on, II, 306 John, son of John, Jewish elder, biographical note on, II, 321 Joseph of Arimathea, presence of, at trials of Christ, I, 282-286, 364 biographical note on, II, 318 receives body of Jesus from Pilate, II, 366 apocryphal account of escape of, from Jews, II, 367, 373-376 Josephus, Flavius, on the character of Pilate, I, 21 on scourging I, 56 on the Pharisees, I, 87 on the existence of the great Sanhedrin at time of Christ, I, 176 on the loss, by Jews, of power of life and death, II, 19 on the rapacity of the high priests, II, 301 Jowett, Benjamin, upon the corruption of Rome, II, 240 Judah, the Holy, Jewish rabbi, and the composition of the Mishna, I, 79, 80 Judas, son of Hezekiah, Jewish rebel, put to death by Herod, II, 109 Judas Iscariot, his betrayal of Christ, I, 227-235 Julia, daughter of Augustus, profligacy of, II, 82 marriages of, II, 83 Julian, Roman emperor, his defiance of Mars, II, 222 Juno, Roman divinity, sacrifices to, II, 208 Jupiter, Roman deity, multitudinous forms of, II, 203 sacrifices to, II, 208 Justin Martyr, reference of, to "Acts of Pilate," II, 331, 346, 348 Juvenal, Satires of, on Roman social depravity, II, 240, 244, 248 K Keim, Theodor, on the existence of the Great Sanhedrin at the time of Christ, I, 178 on the character of Christ, II, 188, 189 Knight, R. P., on the symbolism of the Cross, II, 65 Koran, the, I, 77 L Lamartine, Alphonse, on the death of Christ, II, 3 Lampon, Greek diviner, exposed by Anaxagoras, II, 226 Lardner, on the authenticity of the "Acts of Pilate," II, 328 _seq._ Law, Hebrew Criminal, administration of, I, 153, 154 basis of, I, 73, 84, 85 burial of bodies after execution under, I, 101, 171 capital punishments under, I, 91-93, 99-101 circumstantial evidence under, I, 144 Cities of Refuge under, I, 96 courts and judges, I, 102-126 execution under, I, 170, 171 false swearing under, I, 93 flagellation under, I, 94 imprisonment under, I, 93 peculiarities of, I, 125, 132, 147, 167, 168 slavery under, I, 95 tenderness of, for human life, I, 154, 155, 310 testimony under, I, 144-147 witnesses under, I, 127-144 written and documentary evidence irrelevant, I, 133, 145 Laws, Roman, lex Appuleia, II, 69 Cornelia, II, 69 Julia Majestatis, II, 69, 80 Memmia, II, 46 Porcia, II, 54 Remmia, II, 49 Talionis, II, 53 Valeria, II, 37, 54 Varia, II, 69 Lazarus, raising of, from the dead, I, 352 Lectisternia, Roman banquets to the gods, slaves released at, II, 130 indecencies of, II, 218 Lémann, extract from work of, on Sanhedrin, II, 291 Lepidus, Marcus, Roman patrician, magnificence of, II, 246 Livy, on scourging, I, 57 account of Bacchanalian orgies, II, 270-283 Longinus, legendary name of soldier who pierced Christ, II, 379 Lucullus, Roman patrician, luxury of, II, 244 Luke, St., occupation of, I, 19 Luke, St., Gospel of, style of, I, 19 Lupercals, Roman priests, II, 204 Luxury of the Romans, II, 244 Lycurgus, code of, II, 241 M Macarius, identification of "true cross" by, II, 63 Macaulay, Lord, speech of, on Jewish disabilities, II, 184 Mahomet, character of, I, 14 Malchus, ear of, cut off by Peter, I, 36, 226 Magath, Julius, extract from work of, II, 291 Maimonides, on Hebrew Capital Crimes, I, 91 on the prohibition of nocturnal trials, I, 255, 256 Manlius, Marcus, trial of, before the Comitia Centuriata, II, 40 Marius, Caius, assassin cowed by, I, 62 Mark, St., Jesus arrested at home of, I, 220 Marriage, among the Romans, II, 236 among the Greeks, II, 240-243 Marcius, Quintus, Roman consul, motion of, on the suppression of the Bacchanalian orgies, II, 282 Mars, Roman deity, II, 208 Messiah, the, prophecies regarding, and their fulfillment in Jesus, I, 322-328 varying expectations of Jews regarding, I, 319-322; II, 110 conception of Pharisees of, II, 324 conception of Sadducees of, II, 325 Matthew, St., occupation of, I, 19 Matthias, son of Annas, Jewish high priest, biographical note on, II, 296 Mendelssohn, on the Talmud, I, 75 Messalina, Roman empress, lewdness of, II, 244 Messalinus, Cotta, prosecuted for treason, II, 70 Metrodorus on the Greek gods, II, 226 Mezeray, de, on the bloody sweat of Charles IX, I, 60 Minerva, Roman deity, II, 208 Miracles, probability of, I, 40-51 Spinoza on, I, 40-43 Renan on, I, 44 of Christ, I, 351-354 Mishna, the, E. Deutsch on, I, 80 subdivisions of, I, 80 relation of Talmud to, I, 83 traditional view of, I, 84 on capital and pecuniary cases, I, 155, 156. See also Gemara and Talmud. Mommsen, Theodor, on the jurisdiction of native courts of Roman subject peoples, II, 15 on Roman marital looseness, II, 243 on Roman extravagance, II, 247 Montefiore, Sir Moses, anecdote of, II, 180 Mosaic Code, the, a basis of Hebrew Criminal Law, I, 73, 84, 85 Müller, Johannes, explodes legend of Pilate and Lake Lucerne, II, 95 N Nachum Halbalar, Jewish scribe, biographical note on, II, 314 Nævius, Marcus, accusation of Scipio Africanus by, II, 41 Napoleon I, fickleness of populace toward, I, 63, 64 tribute of, to Jesus, II, 189 religious faith of, II, 190, 191 Nasi, prince of the Sanhedrin, I, 112 Nathan, Jewish rabbi, note on, II, 315, note Neptune, Roman deity, II, 208 Nero, Roman emperor, deification of, II, 234 Golden House of, II, 246 Ney, Michel, French marshal, compared with St. Peter, I, 64 Nicodemus, Jewish elder, presence of, at trial of Christ, I, 282-286 defense of Christ before Sanhedrin, I, 305 presence and conduct of, at second trial of Jesus by Sanhedrin, I, 364 biographical note on, II, 319 apocryphal account of pleading of, for Jesus before Pilate, II, 360 Gospel of. See "Acts of Pilate" Nordau, Max, on Jewish pride in Jesus, II, 188 O Oaths, not administered to witnesses, under Jewish law, I, 134 Octavian. See Augustus Omens, belief of Romans in, II, 215 Onkelos, Jewish scribe, biographical note on, II, 305 Oracle, Delphic, consulted by Romans, II, 210 Osiris, Egyptian deity, the cross a symbol of, II, 66 Ovid, Roman poet, on unnatural practices in temples, II, 269 P Paganism, Græco-Roman, conflict of, with Christianity, I, 16; II, 76-79 Hellenization of Roman religion, II, 199 importation of foreign gods, II, 200 origin and multiplicity of Roman gods, II, 198-204 Roman priesthood, II, 204, 205 Roman forms of worship, II, 205-209 perplexity of worshipers regarding deities, II, 207 prayer, II, 207, 208-210 augury and divination, II, 210-215 omens, II, 215, 216 decay of Roman faith, II, 217-220 Roman skepticism, II, 220-229 sacrilege among Romans, II, 221 disbelief of Romans in immortality, II, 228, 229 Epicureanism among the Romans, II, 229-231 stoicism, II, 231-233 deification of Roman emperors, II, 233-235 base deities of Romans, II, 265 effect of religion in Greek and Roman social corruption, II, 269 Palace of Herod, description of, II, 96, 97 Paley, William, on the discrepancies of the Gospels, I, 32, 33 Pan, Græco-Roman divinity, feasts of, II, 265 Paul, St., on the depravity of Rome, II, 284 delivery of, to Felix, II, 299 Pericles, Greek tyrant, and the divination of Lampon, II, 226 Pentateuch, the, a basis of Hebrew jurisprudence, I, 73 Permanent Tribunals (quæstiones perpetuæ), mode of trials before, at Rome, II, 43-52 Peter, St., at the sepulcher, I, 37 compared with Marshal Ney, I, 64 and Malchus, I, 36, 226 Pharisees, and the Talmud, I, 87 attitude of, toward the law, I, 338 dominant in priestly order, II, 302 their conception of the Messiah, II, 324 characteristics of, II, 324 Philip, St., and the feeding of the five thousand, I, 35 Phillips, Wendell, on Hindu swordsmanship, I, 48 Philo, Jewish philosopher, on the character of Pilate, I, 21; II, 89-91 Phryne, mistress of Praxiteles anecdote of, II, 242 Pilate, Pontius, powers of, as procurator of Judea, II, 27-31 name and origin of, II, 81, 82 marriage of, II, 82 becomes procurator of Judea, II, 84 provokes the Jews, II, 85 appropriates funds from Corban, II, 86 hangs shields in Herod's palace, II, 88 slays Galileans, II, 88 character of, I, 21; II, 88 canonization of, II, 89 ordered to Rome by Vitellius, II, 92 legends regarding death of, II, 92-94 interrogation of Jesus, II, 112-115 talents of, II, 115 his opinion of Jesus, II, 115 acquits Jesus, II, 116 sends Jesus to Herod, II, 117 reconciled with Herod, II, 128 offers to release Barabbas, II, 130 warned by wife's dream of Jesus, II, 133, 355 washes his hands of Christ's death, II, 137, 364 releases Barabbas, II, 138, 363 summary of his conduct of Christ's trial, II, 168 conduct of, compared with Cæsar, II, 169; with Sir Edward Coke, II, 170-172 Pindar, Greek poet, denunciation of, of vulgar superstitions, II, 224 Plato, Greek philosopher, unnatural love of, II, 263 reprobation of Homeric myths, II, 264 Pliny, the Younger, correspondence of, with Trajan, II, 78 disbelief of, in immortality, II, 229 on slavery, II, 203 Plutarch, on crucifixion, I, 56 anecdotes of Lucullus, II, 244-246 Polybius, on Roman pederasty, II, 263 Pompeia divorced by Cæsar, II, 238 Pompey, Cneius, the Great, conquest of Palestine by, II, 11 defeated at Pharsalia, II, 25 divorce of his wife Mucia, II, 238 Pontiffs, Roman, II, 204 Poppæa, wife of Nero, deification of, II, 77 Postumius, Spurius, Roman consul, suppression of Bacchanalians by, II, 270-283 Prætor, Roman, judicial powers of, II, 36 Priesthood, Roman. See Roman religion Priests, Jewish Chamber of. See Sanhedrin Procurator, Roman, jurisdiction of, II, 27, 28 Provinces, Roman, classification of, by Augustus, II, 27 Q Quetzalcoatle, crucified Savior, worshiped by Mexicans, II, 66 R Rabbi, origin of Jewish title of, II, 315 Rabbis, Jewish, arrogance of, II, 316 Raphall, Morris, on the origin of the Sanhedrin, I, 104 Rawlinson, George, on the political state of Judea at the time of Christ, II, 11 Religions, policy of Romans toward foreign, and of conquered peoples, II, 72-74 Renan, Ernest, on miracles, I, 44-47 on the "judicial ambush" of blasphemers, I, 235 on the character of Pilate, II, 90 on the character of Christ, II, 187, 188 Richard III, King of England, contest of, with Saladin, I, 48 Richter on the pathology of crucifixion, II, 58, 59 Rosadi, on the confession of the accused under Hebrew law, I, 143 on the hatred of Pilate toward the Jews, II, 98 on the order of criminal trials in Roman provinces, II, 32 Rousseau, Jean Jacques, on the death of Christ, II, 187 Romans, laws of, the basis of modern jurisprudence, II, 5 policy of, toward subject peoples, II, 13-15 responsibility of, for Christ's death, II, 174-176 religion of. See Paganism Ruga, Carvilius, first Roman to procure a divorce, II, 236 S Sacrifice, human, among the Romans, II, 209 Sadducees, attitude of, toward the law, I, 338 attitude of, toward anthropomorphism of Pentateuch, I, 338 dominant in the Sanhedrin, I, 339 disbelief of, in immortality, II, 322 wealth and rank of, II, 322 Saladin, Saracen Sultan, contest of, with Richard III, I, 48 Salians, Roman priests, II, 204 Sallust, Roman historian, on the conspiracy of Cataline, II, 229 Salvador, Joseph, on the existence of the Great Sanhedrin at the time of Christ, I, 177 Samuel, Hakaton, Jewish scribe, biographical note on, II, 307 Sanctuary, right of, among ancient peoples, I, 96 Sanhedrin, the Great, origin of, I, 103 history of, I, 104 organization of, I, 105 chamber of scribes, I, 105; II, 303 chamber of elders, I, 105; II, 318 chamber of priests, I, 105; II, 292 qualifications of members of, I, 106 disqualifications of judges of, I, 109 officers of, I, 112 compensation of officers of, I, 115 sessions of, I, 116 recruitment of personnel of, I, 117 quorum of, I, 119 jurisdiction of, I, 119 appeals to, from minor Sanhedrins, I, 120 morning sacrifice of, I, 157 assembling of judges of, I, 158 scribes of, I, 158, 159 examination of witnesses by, I, 159-162 debates and balloting of judges of, I, 162 procedure of, in cases of condemnation of accused, I, 165-167 method of counting votes, I, 167, 168 death march of, I, 169, 170 question of existence of, at time of Christ, I, 175-181 jurisdiction of, in capital cases at the time of Christ, I, 181-183 discussion of trial of Christ before, I, 183-186 procedure of, in trial of Christ before, I, 186 illegality of proceedings of, against Christ, I, 255-259, 260-262, 263-266, 267-270, 287-294 illegality of sentence of, against Christ, I, 271-278, 279-286 disqualifications of members of, who condemned Christ, I, 296-308 morning session of, at trial of Christ, I, 356-364 three sessions of, to discuss Christ, I, 305, 306 authority of, after Roman conquest, II, 12, 16, 21 deprived by Romans of power of capital punishment, II, 19, 20 biographical sketches of members of, who tried Jesus, II, 291-326 Sanhedrins, minor, appeals from, to Great Sanhedrin, I, 120 establishment of, I, 121 jurisdiction of, I, 121 superior rank of those of Jerusalem, I, 123, 124 Saul, Abba, Jewish scribe, biographical note on, II, 313 Savonarola, Girolamo, Florentine reformer, burning of, I, 63 Scaurus, Manercus, prosecuted for treason, II, 70 Sceva, Jewish priest, biographical note on, II, 300 Schenck, account of, of the bloody sweat of a nun, I, 59 Schürer, on the existence of the Sanhedrin at the time of Christ, I, 176 on the jurisdiction of the Sanhedrin, II, 18 on the administration of civil law by Sanhedrin, II, 30 Scipio Africanus, trial of, before Comitia Centuriata, II, 41 Scott, Sir Walter, on the contest between Richard III and Saladin, I, 47, 48 Scourging, of Jesus, I, 56 mode of, among Romans, II, 55 Scribes, Jewish, Edersheim on, I, 302 Scribes, Jewish Chamber of. See Sanhedrin Segnensis, Henricus, anecdote of, illustrative of mediæval ignorance regarding Talmud, II, 74 Semiramis, Assyrian queen, origin of crucifixion imputed to, II, 54 Seneca, anecdote from, regarding political informers, II, 71 on the patriotic observance of the national religion, II, 226 on suicide, II, 232 on slavery, II, 252 on Roman myths, II, 265 Septuagint, version of the Bible, paraphrasing of anthropomorphic passages in, I, 237 Sepulture, of crucified criminals forbidden, II, 58 Serapis, Egyptian deity, images of thrown down, II, 73 Marcus Aurelius an adorer of, II, 217 Servilia, mistress of Julius Cæsar, II, 239 Shammai, School of, and the Mishna, I, 79 dissensions of, with School of Hillel, II, 309 Shevuah ben Kalba, Jewish elder, biographical note on, II, 319 Shoterim of the Sanhedrin, I, 113 Sibylline Books, II, 199, 204 Sibyl, Erythræan, Virgil inspired by, II, 287 Simon, Jewish rebel, revolt of, II, 110 Simon, Jewish elder, biographical note on, II, 320 Simon Boethus, made high priest by Herod I, II, 296 Simon ben Camithus, Jewish high priest, biographical note on, II, 298 Simon Cantharus, Jewish high priest, biographical note on, II, 297 Simon, son of Gamaliel, Jewish elder, biographical note on, II, 305 Simon Hamizpah, Jewish scribe, biographical note on, II, 314 Sinaitic MS. of the Bible, I, 67 Slavery, under Hebrew law, I, 95 account of, among Romans, II, 250, 251 Social life, Græco-Roman, marriage and divorce, II, 236-240 prostitution, II, 242-244 luxury and extravagance, II, 244-249 poverty of Roman masses, II, 249 slavery, II, 249-253 infanticide, II, 254 gladiatorial games, II, 255-262 depravity of, traceable to corrupt myths, II, 262-270 practice of Bacchanalian rites, II, 270-283 hopeless state of, at time of Christ, II, 284-287 Socrates, Greek philosopher, resemblance of charges against, to those against Jesus, II, 181 counsel of, to Hetairai, II, 243 Sodomy, prevalence of, among Greeks and Romans, II, 262-264 practiced in Roman temples, II, 269 Solomon ben Joseph, Jewish rabbi, on the Talmud, I, 90 Sonnenthal, Adolf von, Jewish actor, refused freedom of Vienna, II, 182 Sparta, licentiousness of, II, 241 Spartacus, Roman gladiator, revolt of, II, 259, 260 Spartans, marital looseness of, II, 241 Spinoza, Jewish philosopher, on miracles, I, 40-44 Standards, apocryphal miracle of, at trial of Christ, II, 354 _seq._ Starkie on the credibility of testimony, I, 12 Stephen, St., stoning of, I, 365 Stephen, Sir James F. J., on the Roman treatment of Christianity, II, 76 on Pilate's trial of Jesus, II, 159-164 Stoicism, among the Romans, II, 231 resemblance of, to Christian precepts, II, 331 Stoning of criminals under Hebrew law, I, 92, 99 Strangling of criminals under Hebrew law, I, 91, 99 Strauss, David, on the behavior of Jesus before Herod, II, 126 on the character of Christ, II, 187 Stroud on the physical cause of death of Christ, I, 61, 62 Suetonius, Roman historian, on the labeling of criminals before execution, I, 57 on divination, II, 213 narrative of, of dreams presaging reign of Augustus, II, 214 account of, of belief of Augustus in omens, II, 215 Suicide, attitude of Stoics toward, II, 232 Suspension, death by, II, 61, 62 Sweat, bloody, historical instances of, I, 59, 60 T Tacitus, Roman historian, on slavery, II, 253 Talmud, the, definition of, I, 74 recensions of, I, 81 contents of, I, 82 relation of Mishna to, I, 83, to Gemara, I, 83; to Pentateuch, I, 83; to Mosaic Code, I, 84, 85 efforts of Christians to extirpate, I, 87, 88 message and mission of, I, 89 See also Gemara and Mishna Telemachus, St., death of, in arena, II, 261 Temples, a resort of immorality in Rome, II, 269 Tertullian, Latin father, on the character of Pilate, II, 89 on the resort of vice to temple precincts, II, 269 reference of, to the "Acts of Pilate," II, 329, 333 _seq._, 347, 348 Tertullus, his prosecution of Paul, II, 299 Testimony, under Hebrew Criminal Law, of each witness required to cover entire case, I, 132 vain, I, 145 standing, I, 146 adequate, I, 147 of accomplices, I, 228-230, 235, 236 Theodota, the courtesan, counseled by Socrates, II, 243 Theophilus, son of Annas, Jewish high priest, biographical note on, II, 296 Theresa, Maria, Austrian empress, codex of, II, 54 Three, Jewish Courts of, jurisdiction of, I, 124 Tiberius Cæsar, Roman emperor, sway of, II, 27 character of, II, 70 prosecutions of, for treason, II, 70, 71 marriage of, to Julia, II, 83 legendary desire of, to deify Christ, II, 329, 330 _seq._ Tischendorf, Constantine, on the authenticity of the "Acts of Pilate," II, 345 _seq._ Tissot, account of, of the bloody sweat of a sailor, I, 59 Trajan, Roman emperor, correspondence of, with Pliny, II, 78 Trials, Roman criminal, right of appeal, II, 28 during the regal period, II, 35 Roman, mode of, in the Comitia Centuriata, II, 37-43 mode of, in the Permanent Tribunals, II, 43-52 prosecutor, rôle and selection of, II, 43, 44, 49 Trial of Jesus, Hebrew, nature of charge against Jesus before Sanhedrin, I, 187 procedure of, before Sanhedrin, I, 188 discussion of charge of blasphemy against Jesus, I, 193-209 illegality of arrest of Jesus, I, 219-237 illegality of private examination of Jesus before high priest, I, 238-247 illegality of indictment of Jesus, I, 248-254 illegality of nocturnal proceedings against Jesus, I, 255-259 illegality of the meeting of the Sanhedrin before morning sacrifice, I, 260-262 illegality of proceedings against Christ, because held on the eve of the Sabbath, and of a feast, I, 263-266 illegality of trial, because concluded in one day, I, 267-270 condemnation of Jesus founded on uncorroborated evidence, I, 271-278 Jesus illegally condemned by unanimous verdict, I, 279-286 condemnation of Jesus pronounced in place forbidden by law, I, 288-292 irregular balloting of judges of Jesus, I, 292-294 condemnation of Jesus illegal, because of unlawful conduct of high priest, I, 290, 291 disqualifications of judges of Jesus, I, 296-308 Jesus condemned without defense, I, 309 second trial of Jesus by Sanhedrin, I, 356-366 Trial of Jesus, Roman, discussion of Roman and Hebrew jurisdiction, II, 3-23 Roman law applicable to, II, 68-80 as conducted by Pilate, II, 96-118, 129-139 legal analysis of, II, 141-168 Tribune, Roman, judicial powers of, II, 36 Tryphon, son of Theudion, Jewish elder; biographical note on, II, 321 Twelve Tables, laws of the, II, 53, 208 U Ulpian, Roman jurist, his definition of treason, II, 69 V Vatican, MS. of the Bible, I, 67 Venus, Roman deity, sacrifices to, II, 208 impersonated by Phryne, II, 243 worshiped by harlots, II, 266 Veronica, St., legend of, II, 93 Vestals, Roman priestesses, guardians of sacred fire, II, 204 spectators at licentious dramas, II, 267 Vinicius, Lucius, Roman patrician, letter of Augustus to, II, 83 Virgil, poem of, on advent of heaven-born child, I, 321; II, 287 Virginia, legend of, II, 236 Vitellius, legate of Syria, spares Jewish prejudices, II, 85 orders Pilate to Rome, II, 92 Vitia, Roman matron, executed for treason, II, 71 Voltaire, François de, account of, of the bloody sweat of Charles IX, I, 59 on character of Christ, II, 187 Vulgate, version of the Bible, I, 68 W Witnesses, under Hebrew Criminal Law, competency and incompetency of, I, 127-129 number of, required to convict, I, 129 agreement of, I, 131 adjuration to, I, 134 examination of, I, 136, 138 false, I, 140 the accused as, I, 141 separation of, I, 137 Wise, Rabbi, on the non-existence of the Great Sanhedrin at time of Christ, I, 175, 179 on the "martyrdom of Jesus," I, 330 X Xenophanes, ridicule of, of Greek religion, II, 224 Z Zadok, Jewish scribe, biographical note on, II, 310 Zeno, Greek philosopher, originator of Stoicism, II, 229 Zeus, Greek divinity, character of, I, 14 myth of rape of Ganymede by, II, 262 Corrections The first line indicates the original, the second the correction: p. 61: Describing the punishments used in Madasgascar Describing the punishments used in Madagascar. p. 151: and that he recognized and that He recognized. p. 174: as did S. Michael as did St. Michael. p. 392: Dysmas, legendary name of one of thieves crucified with Jesus, II, 364 Dysmas, legendary name of one of the thieves crucified with Jesus, II, 364 Derembourg, Joseph, on the Jewish priestly families, II, 294 Dérembourg, Joseph, on the Jewish priestly families, II, 294 p. 397: Lemann, extract from work of, on Sanhedrin, II, 291 Lémann, extract from work of, on Sanhedrin, II, 291 p. 402: Scipio Africanus, trial of, before Comitia Centuriata Scipio Africanus, trial of, before Comitia Centuriata, II, 41 Footnote 15: Geschichte des römischen criminalprocesses Geschichte des römischen Criminalprocesses Footnote 152: Renan, "Les Apotres." Renan, "Les Apôtres." 
4323	----	The Heart-Cry of Jesus BY BYRON J. REES, Author of "Christlikeness," "Hulda, the Pentecostal Prophetess," and "Hallelujahs from Portsmouth, Nos. 2 and 3." DEDICATION. TO MY MASTER, EVEN CHRIST. INTRODUCTION. THE NEED OF THE DAY. The saying, "Necessity is the mother of Invention," finds nowhere a more vivid illustration of its truth than in the publishing enterprises of the modern Holiness movement. The onward movement of the Holy Ghost along Pentecostal lines, convicting of depravity, creating a clean-reading public, and endueing with power both pulpit and pew, has resulted in a constant and growing demand for full-salvation literature. Tens of thousands of pulpits do an active business on both the wholesale and retail plan, with science and philosophy as stock in trade. Famishing congregations are proffered the bugs of biology, the rocks of geology, and the stars of astronomy until their souls revolt, and they demand bread and meat. THE NEED BEING SUPPLIED. The great soul-cry is being met and answered by the publication and distribution of soul-feeding, spirit-inspiring, health-giving Holiness books and papers. God is raising up writers and editors from whose pens pour melted truths, to the edification and blessing of thousands. THE PURPOSE OF THIS BOOK. In this little book we have a production in which the author has made little attempt at the elucidation of doctrine or the waging of controversy, but in great simplicity and directness he has presented the truth with a view to helpfulness, desiring to introduce really hungry souls into the Canaan life, and provide a well-loaded table of rich provisions for those who are already "in the Land." READERS WILL BE REFRESHED. We believe that there is a warmth, fervor and glow about the pages of this volume which will be most refreshing to many, many readers. May the Holy Spirit put His seal upon it and give it an extensive circulation. SETH C. REES. PROVIDENCE, R. I., NOVEMBER 15, 1898. PREFACE. WHAT IS SANCTIFICATION? No one who accustoms himself to the observation of spiritual tides, winds and currents can be ignorant of the fact that the devout men and women of the present are earnestly inquiring, "What is sanctification? What does holiness mean?" They are demanding of the pulpit and of the church editor something more than the time-worn and moth-eaten excuses for not teaching a deeper work of grace. The "seven thousand" who have not "bowed the knee" to the modern Baals are insisting that, if God's Word teaches entire sanctification for the disciple of Christ obtainable by faith now, they must possess themselves of this heavenly grace. THE AUTHOR'S DESIRE. It is with the purpose and hope that some seeking heart may be helped that these pages are penned. The author has purposely avoided all controversial matter. We would not assume the role of the doctrinaire even were we capable of it. "Not controversy, not theology, but to save souls," as Lyman Beecher said when dying. THE NEED OF SPEED. This book has been written in the midst of laborious and unceasing revival work. For this reason there has been no time to polish sentences nor improve style. The object has been to get the truth to the people in plain language, and to do it with despatch, for the time is short, and men are being saved or damned with electric speed. THE BUZZARD AND VULTURE. The buzzard and the vulture will find food if they look for it, but with them we are not concerned. We are, however, terribly in earnest to help hungry souls to a place of blessing and power. May God take these leaves and make them "leaves of healing," if not for "nations," at least for individuals. BYRON J. REES. NOVEMBER 14, 1898. CONTENTS. DEDICATION INTRODUCTION PREFACE CHRIST'S PRAYER CHAPTER I. A Word in the Prayer CHAPTER II. Some Errors CHAPTER III. Those for Whom Christ Prayed CHAPTER IV. Christ's Prayer Answered CHAPTER V. Christian Unity CHAPTER VI. Fearlessness CHAPTER VII. Responsiveness to Christ CHAPTER VIII. Soul-Rest CHAPTER IX. Prayerfulness CHAPTER X. Success CHAPTER XI. Growth in Christliness of Life EXPERIENCE CHRIST'S PRAYER: "SANCTIFY THEM THROUGH THE TRUTH; THY WORD IS TRUTH." CHAPTER I. A WORD IN THE PRAYER. CHRIST'S WORDS. All who really love Christ love His words. They may not always fully understand their meaning, but they never reject any of them. The very fact that any word has been on the lips of Christ and received His sanction, gives it a sound of music to all who are truly disciples of the Nazarene. MOTHER'S WORDS. The words that your mother used frequently--are there any words quite the same to you? She may be resting under the solemn pines of a silent cemetery, but, to this hour, if anyone uses one of her favorite words, instantly the heart leaps in answer, and the mind flies back to her, and the fancy paints her as you knew her in the garden or at the fireside or by the window. It lies in the power of a single word to make the eyes fill and the throat ache because of its association with the voice of a queenly mother. A MAN'S TESTIMONY. Thus it is with Christ and HIS words. It matters not where we meet the word, if it is Christ's we are touched and made tender. An aged man stands in a prayer-meeting in a bare and cheerless hall, and says in broken and faltering voice, "The dear Lord has blessedly SANCTIFIED my heart," and like a flash the room lightens, and the whole place seems changed and made cheery. The heart cries, "That is my Master's word," and the entire being is attentive and interested. JESUS' LIFE DEAR. Yes, to the really regenerated soul everything connected with Jesus is dear. The place of His birth, the land of His ministry, the garden of His agony, the mount of His crucifixion, the Olivet of His ascension, all these are illumined with a peculiar and special light. The mind dwells lovingly on His parables, ponders deeply His sayings, lingers tenderly over His words. WE WELCOME THE WORD. We will NOT therefore shrink from the Word of our Lord: "Sanctify." It may have been stained by the slime of some unworthy life, or soiled by the lips of men who prated about sanctification, but knew nothing of its nature; yet, for all that, since the word is Christ's we hail its enunciation with gladness. CHRIST'S BURDEN. The high-priestly prayer of Christ was distinctively for the disciples. Indeed, He SAYS: "I pray not for the world." That is to say, the disciples need a peculiar and special work of grace, one which must follow, not precede, conversion, and therefore not to be received by the world. In this prayer the loving Master revealed to His immediate disciples, and to those of all ages and climes, the burning desire of His heart concerning His followers. The petition ascends from His immaculate heart like incense from a golden censer, and it has for its tone and soul, "Sanctify them through thy truth." His soul longed for this work to be completed quickly. During the last days of His ministry He talked frequently of the coming Comforter. He admonished them to "tarry" until an enduement came to them. He knew that unless they were energized with a power, to which they were as yet strangers, their work would be worse than futile. HE PRAYED FOR SANCTIFICATION. It is for the SANCTIFICATION of the disciples that Christ prayed. He did not ask that they might fill positions of honor and trust; He knew that there is no nobility but that of goodness. It was more important that the early preachers should be holy men than that they should be respected and honored. He did not pray for riches for them; He knew too well the worthlessness of money in itself. He did not desire for them thrones, nor culture, nor refinement, nor name. "'Tis only noble to be good. True hearts are more than coronets, And simple faith than Norman blood." So Jesus prayed that these men who had for three years been His daily and constant companions should receive an experience which should make them INTENSELY GOOD; not "goody-goody," which is very different, but heartily and wholly spiritual and godly. THE MEN WE LOVE. The men whose names are brightening as the ages fly, were not men who were always free from prejudices and blunders. They were not men, as a rule, from university quadrangles nor college cloisters. They were not the wise, nor the erudite, nor the cultivated, nor the rich. They were the good men. Brilliant men tire us; wits soon bore us with their gilt-edged nothings, but men with clean, holy hearts, fixed convictions, bold antipathies to sin, sympathetic natures and tender consciences never weary us, and they bear the intimate and familiar acquaintance which so often causes the downfall of the so-called "great" in one's estimation. THE PERSONAL TOUCH. We may forget an eloquent sermon pilfered from Massillon, but we will never forget a warm handclasp and a sympathetic word from an humble servant in God's house. Jesus never went for the crowds--he hunted the individual. He sat up a whole night with a questioning Rabbi; talked an afternoon with a harlot who wanted salvation; sought out and found the man whom they cast out of the synagogue, and saved a dying robber on an adjacent cross. We do not reach men in great audiences generally. We reach them by interesting ourselves in them individually; by lending our interest to their needs; by giving them a lift when they need it. SANCTIFIED FISHERMEN. Jesus with divine sagacity knew that if these untutored fishermen were to light up Europe and Asia with the torch of the gospel they must have an experience themselves which would transform them from self-seeking, cowardly men to giants and heroes. THE CARNAL MIND. While the true Christian loves Christ and His words, while his higher and more spiritual nature says "Amen" to the Lord's teaching, yet it must not be forgotten that the "carnal mind" which remains, "even in the heart of the regenerate," is "enmity against God." There is a dark SOMEWHAT in the soul that fairly hates the word "sanctification." Theologians call it "inbred sin" or "original depravity"; the Bible terms it the "old man," "the old leaven," "the root of bitterness," etc. Whatever its name it abhors holiness and purity, and though the regenerate man loves Christ and His words, he does so over the vehement protest of a baser principle chained and manacled in the basement dungeon of his heart. GEORGE FOX. The devout of all churches recognize the existence of an inner enemy who bars the gate to rapid spiritual progress. George Fox, the pious founder of the Friends' Society, said in relation to an experience which came to him: "I knew Jesus, and He was very precious to my soul, but I found something within me which would not always keep patient and kind. I did what I could to keep it down, but it was there. I besought Jesus that He would do something for me, and when I gave Him my will He came into me and cast out all that would not be patient, and all that would not be sweet, and that would not be kind, and then He shut the door." "SIN IN BELIEVERS." John Wesley preached a sermon on "Sin in Believers" which is extant and widely read. All churches recognize it in their creeds, and all have provision in their dogmas for its expulsion before entrance into heaven. The Catholics provide a convenient Purgatory; other denominations glorify Death and ascribe to it a power which they deny to Christ; while still others rely on growth to cleanse from all sin and get us ready for the glory-world. The Bible, however, with that sublime indifference to all human opinions and theories becoming in divine authority, reveals a SALVATION FROM ALL SIN HERE AND NOW. The word sanctify means simply "to make holy" (L., sanctificare = sanctus, holy, + ficare, to make). The work of sanctification removes all the roots of bitterness and destroys the remains of sin in the heart. UNREASONABLE ANTAGONISM. What sound sense can there be in antagonizing a blessing which is nothing more or less than cleanness--mental, moral and physical cleanness. The kind of character that would wittingly fight holiness would object to a change of linen. A CHURCH IN JERSEY. The eagerness with which truly devout people welcome the preaching of full salvation is refreshing. It was the writer's privilege to hold an eight-day meeting with a church in Central New Jersey. The church was in excellent condition, for the pastor, a godly and earnest man, had faithfully proclaimed justification and its appropriate fruits. Nearly all the members were praying, conscientious and zealous Christians. When, at the first meeting, which was the regular Sunday morning service, the experience of sanctification was presented, over one hundred persons arose, thus signifying their desire for the precious grace! OPEN THE ALTAR! The language of the child of God is, "Does God want me sanctified? Then open the altar for I am coming." He does not tarry; he does not higgle and hesitate; he makes for the "straw pile" if in a New England camp; the "saw-dust" if down South; the "altar rail" if in a spiritual church; to his knees at any rate, for God's will he desires and must have. Thank God he can have it! CHAPTER II. SOME ERRORS. THE BEAR-SKIN. Satan is very busily engaged in destroying and misrepresenting God's best experiences. He slanders the work of God in order that His children may not come into their inheritance. The "bear-skin" frightens the would-be seeker and keeps him out of the Canaan land. ROSENTHAL. Darkness hates light. The Prince of Darkness dreads truth and light, for he knows that if God's children ever see sanctification as it is, there will be a general stampede for consecration. If the public really believed that Rosenthal would play the piano in Infantry Hall on a certain evening, and that there would be no charge for admittance, South Main street would be black with people hours before the doors were opened. If the church really believed that God would let them into an experience where sonatas and minuets and bridal marches and "Mondnacht" and the "Etude in C sharp minor" would be heard all the time, and free of charge, all the bishops and the big preachers and little evangelists and exhorters and ministers would be besieged by a grand eager throng of people, crying with one accord, "What must I do to be sanctified?" Lord, hasten the day! THE DEVIL STIRRED. When a man is awakened and says, "What is sanctification anyway?" then the devil bestirs himself to silence the soul's questionings. Blessed is the man who will not be satisfied with anything short of "Thus saith the Lord." Hound the lies of hell to their covert; run down the false reports, and determine the truth. A CHIMERA. One of the lies which Satan is fond of circulating is that sanctification is a life free from temptation. When this is announced among those who are awakened on the subject, immediately there is a great cry, "I don't want to hear any more about sanctification." One would think by the excitement aroused that people are actually afraid lest they should by some manner of means be deprived of the privilege of being tempted. Let all such allay their fears. Jesus was tempted even on the pinnacle of the temple, and we will never be above our Lord, and may well expect temptation until we pass from this world-stage to the other land. No responsible Christian student teaches any such chimera as a life without temptation obtainable now. A DIFFERENCE. Personally, we have never heard anyone make such a claim. What we do teach, and, better still, far better, WHAT GOD PROMISES, is an experience where we need not YIELD to temptation. There is a difference, vast and important, between being tempted and yielding to temptation. A TEMPTED PREACHER. A man is en route from New York to the West via the Pennsylvania Railroad. The express stops at a junction in the mountains. He leaves the car and walks up and down on the platform enjoying the view. Near the station is a park. Beautiful flowering shrubbery, shell walks, ivy-clad piles of rocks, splashing fountains, majestic shade trees and well-kept turf make the place attractive. Beyond the pretty village a wooded mountain rises toward the bluest of skies, enticing to a stroll amid the beauties of a forest. The preacher is strongly tempted to stop over a day and enjoy a brief rest. Then he thinks of his word, given in good faith, to be in a certain place at an appointed hour; he remembers the souls which God might save through the sermon which he is expected to preach the next evening. He is tired and jaded and worn. Would he not be justified in telegraphing that he would not come until a day or so later than expected? It is a stout temptation; but when the black-faced porter shouts, "All aboard," and the bell rings he walks into the hot and dirty car and continues his tiresome journey. Does not the reader see that a temptation to rest is very different from stopping and breaking an engagement and disappointing an audience? A CHARMING COMPANION. On life's express we are all liable to temptation. We are solicited to tarry, but we are so intent on our destination, and especially are we so charmed with our travelling Companion, that we bid farewell to fountain, and gravelled walks, and towering mountains and push on to that city. WHO TEACHES FANATICISM? Another misrepresentation, the circulation of which Satan delights to further, is that sanctification is an experience in which we can not sin, and when through this idea men lift their hands in horror and desist from seeking this precious grace, all hell chuckles with real satisfaction. But who teaches such fanaticism? Life is always a probation. The will is free. The Bible teaches this truth, and we believe it. The holiest saint on earth may, IF HE CHOOSE, sin and go to hell. Everything hangs upon the choice. Thank God we NEED not fall. Falling is possible, but not necessary. NOT A DAY-DREAM. A third evil report is that sanctification is an impracticable day-dream, unfit for everyday life and the common round of duties. "It is," so it is said, "all very well for ministers, and class leaders, and superintendents of Sunday-schools, and people who are not very busy in life to get sanctification, but it will not stand the strain and tension to which it would be subjected in some lives." But "God is no respecter of persons," and what He will do for one of His children He will do for all. And then, if we only knew it, sanctification is just suited to the life of trial and perplexity. "BILLY" BRAY AND CARVOSSO. If there is a man to be found who has to labor hard all day and has a life full of care, sanctification is just the experience he needs. Read the life of Mrs. Fletcher, and see how sanctification can help a woman with multitudinous domestic cares. Study the lives of "Billy" Bray and William Carvosso, and remember that it was sanctification which helped these men in their difficulties. If there is a soul anywhere filled with unspeakable sorrow, shivering alone in the dark, the brightest light that can come to that stricken soul is full salvation. No matter how sharp the thorn, nor how galling the fetter, sanctification turns the thorn into oil, and the fetter into a chain of plaited flowers. CLANS. It is said by some that sanctification makes people "clannish." Clannish is a word with a rather offensive taste on the tongue, and is altogether too harsh a word to apply to that congregative instinct that makes pure-minded persons crave the fellowship of kindred spirits. There is nothing intentionally exclusive about the holiness movement. If a man is shut out it is because he shuts himself out; if he does not feel at home in a full salvation service it is because he has not yet obtained full salvation. BROWNING CLUBS. Men who share great truths and principles in common find in each other's presence and fellowship great help. Admirers of Browning form "Browning Clubs"; foot-ball men gather themselves into "associations"; ministers meet in "Monday meetings"; Christians organize "churches"; is it to be thought strange if people who are sanctified wholly delight to meet for conference and mutual help? THE SPLITTING OF THE CHURCH A few uninformed persons say that "holiness splits the church." But this is false. When men love God with all their heart and their neighbors as themselves, nothing can separate them. If, however, people of different sorts and kinds, some saved and some unsaved, are in one organization, it will not require anything much to make them differ in opinion. The real ecclesia, the genuine church, is not so easily split. One of our most brilliant and spiritual holiness writers has remarked in pleasantry that the anxiety of some in regard to the splitting of the church would lead one to think that there was something inside which they were afraid would be seen in case of a cleavage. KEEP TO THE BIBLE. Keep to the Bible idea of sanctification. Let not the adversary dupe you and frighten you from its quest and obtainment. Begin now; seek, search, pray, consecrate, believe, and soon the blessing will fall upon your waiting soul. CHAPTER III. THOSE FOR WHOM CHRIST PRAYED--"SANCTIFY THEM." CONVERTED MEN. The men for whom Christ prayed were converted men, and were living in justified relation to God. In proof of this statement, let the reader study the context carefully. A CLOUDLESS SKY. In the sixteenth chapter of St. John, the one immediately preceding the sacerdotal prayer, the conversation which is recorded would be impossible were the disciples conscious of guilt. One can not read those sublime verses without the irresistible conviction that the disciples' sky of soul-consciousness was blue and cloudless. There is no hint in Christ's discourse that these men are "of the world," but rather it is taken for granted that they are children of God and heirs of the kingdom. A SPECIFIC STATEMENT. It is the sheerest folly for one to maintain that the conversion of the disciples did not occur prior to Pentecost. If words mean anything, Jesus made a specific statement to the contrary. "Rejoice," says He, "that your names are written in heaven." In His prayer He says to His Father: "They have kept Thy word"; "they are Thine"; "I pray for them, I pray not for the world." Notice the distinction which He makes between "them" and "the world." These men are picked men. They are very different from the great unpardoned, sinful throng outside the kingdom--they are CHRISTIANS. THE CHAMBER OF BLESSING. A very good evidence of the genuineness of the conversion of the disciples was their painstaking care to follow out minutely the directions of their ascended Lord. He had prayed for their sanctification; they desired it. He had spoken of a coming Comforter, and they eagerly awaited His advent. He had said, "Tarry in Jerusalem until" His arrival, and they conscientiously met in an "upper room" for a ten-day prayer-meeting. "Farewell! friends; farewell! memory-haunted synagogues; farewell! sacred temple; farewell! long-bearded priests; farewell all! we must go to prayer: our Lord said that we should be sanctified." And thus in long line the one hundred and twenty file up the stairs to the Chamber of Blessing. There is no lightness, no jesting, no quibbling, no bickering; all are serious, terribly in earnest, intent on "the promise of the Father." There is Peter, impulsive and eager, whole-hearted and enthusiastic; there is the meek and quiet Mary, who sat at Jesus' feet at the old home in Bethany; there is the child-like saint, the devout and spiritual John; there is the repentant woman of Magdala; and there are many others who betake themselves to that sacred place--"the upper room." One all-engrossing thought fills their minds. "The promise of the Father which ye have heard of me. The promise of the Father! The promise of the Father! O, when will He come? We would know more about our departed Lord. He is gone from us. Our hearts are torn and bleeding and lonely. Jesus said, 'He shall testify of me.' Would that He would come now!" WHY ONLY THE FEW? But why are there only one hundred and twenty? Was it not into Jerusalem that Christ entered riding over a cloak-carpeted way amid the deafening shouts of "Hosanna"? Did He not teach and instruct and heal hundreds, if not thousands, in and about Jerusalem? Was He not lionized at times by an admiring public? Yea, truly; but one may admire Christ and yet not love Him. There are many who at some "hard saying" refuse to walk with Him. Thousands who have a keen appreciation of "loaves and fishes" shrink from "leaving all" and following Jesus. A great concourse is drawn and held spell-bound by a naive, graceful, eloquent, artless preacher who uses "lilies," and the "grass of the field," and the "sower" of seed, and the "sparrow" in the air to enforce his truth. But one may be interested, and yet not be saved. THE AESTHETIC ELEMENT. In some people religion appeals to the aesthetic nature, and to that only. They festoon the cross with flowers, but never think of dying on it. They are charmed by Gothic churches filled with "dim, religious light." The waves of music from the great; sounding organ awe their souls and fill them with a pensiveness which they mistake for repentance. Pointed arches, sculptured capitals, fretted altars, swinging censers, burning candles, white-robed choir-boys, errorless order in church service--these auxiliaries influence them so strongly in their sense of the beautiful that they think, "Surely I love God. Why, of course I love God." But to love God involves something practical. It means something more than mere profession. It means rugged self-denial, Spartan heroism, perhaps the loss of an "arm" or the "plucking out of an eye." Base must have been the soul which was not attracted by One who "spake as never man spake"; low-minded the man who did not see in Him imperishable beauty and refinement of soul; but ah! discipleship means far more than that. Christ had flown up to heaven. Who now will prove his love for Him by obeying His commands? Who will tarry in Jerusalem awaiting the coming Spirit, and then, the Comforter having come, be ready to "Go into all the world, discipling all nations"? Answer: All who are truly children of God. The preaching of sanctification is the touchstone by which the genuineness of conversions can be tested. The truly living "hunger and thirst after righteousness"; the dead do not "bother their heads about a second blessing." THE STEAMER "PURITAN." Let us illustrate: It was fifteen minutes until the schedule time for the "Puritan" of the "Fall River Line" to leave her New York pier. The evening was warm, and the usual crowd filled the decks. Many had come on board to see their friends off for Newport, Bar Harbor and "the Pier." Passengers and their friends sat in groups and chatted, talked about the trip, the weather, the situation at Santiago, the flowers they held, the concert by the orchestra. It was impossible for an observer to determine just who were passengers and held tickets, and who were merely bidding farewell to their friends. Suddenly an officer in gold-braided cap and blue uniform appeared, and cried out with an authoritative voice and a look of command, "All ashore who are going ashore! All ashore who are going ashore!" Immediately there were hasty hand-clasps and hasty good-byes, and a large part of the company marched quickly down the stairs and across the gang-plank. Those who were left held tickets and were "going through." THE STAMPEDE FOR SHORE. In a revival of religion it is often a matter of considerable difficulty to determine the genuinely converted. In the confusion of large altar services, and the crush of great congregations, who are the saved? No man can tell. Many are moved by sympathy for their friends. Others are charmed by the congregational singing and the music of the organ. Many see that the revival is bound to go, and, like Pliable, they are swept along for a time with it. But there appears in this mixed company a man with the stamp of divine authority upon his brow, the gold braid of full salvation on his helmet, the dialect of Canaan on his tongue and the air of official appointment about his person: "Without holiness no man shall see the Lord! All ashore who are going ashore! All ashore who are going ashore!" Immediately "there is no small stir." Some leave the boat by way of the gang-plank carping at the words of the officer and arguing as they go; some in great haste vault the balustrades and railings and leap for the pier; still others climb out the windows of staterooms and run screaming toward the nearest ladder which will enable them to leave the "good ship Zion." Gradually quiet is restored. The company is smaller, and of whom is it composed? The genuinely converted. What are they doing? They are asking the nearest officer how soon the boat leaves for New England. "When can I be sanctified wholly? O, pray for me! I want the blessing now!" They are "going through." CHAPTER IV. CHRIST'S PRAYER ANSWERED. GOD LISTENS. When Christ opens His mouth, God bows down His ear. "I know that thou hearest me always." The disciples did not wait long until they were baptized with the Holy Ghost. Christ's prayer found audience and the answer was not long delayed. HEART CLEANSING. The baptism with the Spirit which was administered to the one hundred and twenty effected their sanctification. The cleansing of their hearts was one of the effects of the out-pouring of the Spirit. Sanctification and the baptism with the Spirit are therefore coetaneous--they take place at the same time. PETER'S PROOF. This is proven by an inspired statement made by Peter. Referring to the Gentiles he says that God "put no difference between them" and us Jews who were sanctified at Pentecost, "purifying their hearts by faith." THE MANNER OF CLEANSING. There need be no confusion as to the manner of cleansing. Jesus prayed, "Sanctify them THROUGH THY TRUTH." It is by means of the truth preached of and read, that we first hear of a full deliverance from all sin. It is "through the truth" that we learn of God's willingness as well as His power to sanctify. If it had not been for THE BLOOD, Jesus could never have guaranteed the coming of the Comforter; the blood is "the procuring cause" of all the blessings which we receive. Everything comes through the atonement. FAITH is the human condition necessary for the cleansing of the soul; so that, in a very important sense, we are sanctified by faith. THE DIVINE OMNIPOTENT HOLY GHOST is the immediate agency of heart-cleansing. He is the baptizing element administered by Christ the Divine Baptizer: "He shall baptize you with the Holy Ghost." FIRE! It would be well for us to notice some of the characteristics of the Pentecostal anointing. John the Baptist, minister of the gospel and preacher of genuine regeneration, said of Jesus that "he should baptize with the Holy Ghost and fire," thus using a most powerful symbol to characterize the nature of the work of the Holy Ghost. Everyone is familiar with the action of fire; it burns everything combustible with which it comes in contact. CONSEALED SERPENTS. We submit that no one can tell just how much there is in the heart that needs to be consumed. There are things dormant in the unsanctified heart of which the man never dreams. There are serpents coiled in balls, and vipers spitting poison, and centipedes, and fat blinking toads, and vampires, and lizards, and tarantulas, that we never suspect of being in the soul. But they are there. THE EMBRYOS OF CRIME. It is God's mercy that says, "Be ye holy," for He knows that unless we get cleaned out and purified the inner reptiles will poison us to death. Every unsanctified man carries in his bosom the seeds of all possible crimes, the embryos of all black actions. There are times when we half believe that something of the kind is true. Did you ever stand by the cage of a lion and watch his restless pace and feel that you had something in you kindred to him? Many a man has gazed into the green eyes of a wild beast and trembled, feeling a similarity of nature. Every son of Adam feels the beast stir in him at times, until Pentecost eradicates the bestial principle. SMOULDERING EMBERS. The embers from which hell-fire is kindled smoulder in the unsanctified heart. It is dangerous to attempt to build a Christian character over a latent volcano. A once active volcano becomes inactive. The lava cools, the ashes settle, and the smoke drifts away. An enterprising farmer covers a considerable space of the once fiery volcanic field with fresh earth carted from a fertile valley. All goes well for a year or two. The garden prospers, the vegetables are most encouraging, and the produce is abundant. But one morning the farmer notices that smoke is issuing from the crater at the summit of the mountain. The sky blackens and red flames flash amid the clouds of smoke. The land is shaken with earthquakes. Suddenly, right in the middle of his verdant field, a great red-lipped chasm opens and blue flames leap upwards and surge toward the sky. His crops are blasted with the "fierce heat of the flame," and the work of years is wrecked in a moment. BLUE FLAMES OF GEHENNA No permanent Christian life can be built upon the foundation of an unsanctified heart. For a time the graces of the Spirit may seem to grow, but in some sad hour the surface will split open and the man will leap back aghast at the blue flames of Gehenna, which singe his brows and blacken his cheeks. THE PROPHET AND PRINCE. An old white-haired prophet and a gay young prince are in conversation. The aged man bows his head upon his staff and weeps. "For what are you weeping, old man?" "Ah, I am thinking of the black and dastardly crimes you will commit when you have once become king." "Is thy servant a dog, a ruthless town whelp, that he should do such things?" PROPHECY FULFILLED But years roll on and the young man is king, and his hands are stained with crime, and the old man's predictions come true. God had given the aged saint a view of the boy's breast, and he saw the embryonic seeds of sin which, if allowed to remain, would sprout and produce a fruitage of evil deeds. THE BROKEN FLOWER The secret of the downfall of many a brilliant character is a bosom sinfulness little expected to be in existence. No man saw the black and ugly thing but it was there. A lady had a tall and graceful plant. The flowers were white and beautiful and all the town said, "What a fine flower!" One day a storm swept across the garden. One plant was injured; it was the one which people had admired and praised. Filled with grief, the lady stooped to examine the stem, and found that it had been pierced by a worm-hole. The insect had worked silently and secretly. No one saw him cutting into the heart of the tall and magnificent flower, but in a storm, under a test severe and protracted, the stem snapped and the choice beauty of the garden was a thing of the past. THE WORM IN THE HEART. It is the worm in the heart with his relentless and resistless tooth, which weakens the character. Under severe and protracted temptation the will snaps and yields, and the beautiful life is a wreck and fit only for the dump of the Universe. STUMPS AND ROOTS. There are many roots, hidden roots, which bury themselves deep in the soil of the heart. They extend far below clear cerebration, twisting and twining themselves in "the fringe of consciousness." It takes the fire of the Holy Ghost to follow them deep into the ground and destroy them. It used to be a pastime of the boys in eastern Ohio to pile great heaps of brush upon huge stumps in newly-cleared land. All the long October day they would toil, raising a stack of dry limbs upon the stump which needed to be removed. In the evening when twilight came and the stars shone out, they would light the brush and watch the flames greedily devour the pile. In the morning when the lads returned to the scene of the fire, no sign of the stump was to be seen. Looking closely they saw great holes as large at the top of the ground as a man's body, and tapering to a small point as they went deep into the earth. The fire had found the huge roots, and had tracked them into their retreats and consumed them. FIRE OF PENTECOST. We pile the brush of time and talents and money and name and self upon the altar, and the fire of Pentecost, which God sends as He sent to Mount Carmel of old, will destroy not only the brush, but the roots of sin, one and all. CHAPTER V. CHRISTIAN UNITY. A COMMON PLATFORM. One of the results spoken of by Christ in His prayer, and brought about by sanctification, is Christian unity--"that they all may be one." There is but one remedy for sectism and bigotry, and it is found in the answer to Christ's petition. When Pentecost comes to us we are all lifted upon one grand common platform and shake hands and shout and weep and laugh and get so mixed up that a Presbyterian can not be distinguished from a Methodist, nor a Friend from an Episcopalian vestryman. FALSE UNITY. We have heard much about the organic union of churches. Many great and good men have looked forward with sanguine hopes to the day when we should do away with denominations. In a few cases two churches of different sects have united and worshipped in one congregation. But the causes of such unity are frequently far from gratifying. In D----the Methodists and Primitive Methodists clasp hands and join forces because they can thus make one preacher do the work which two formerly performed. In K----the Baptists and Presbyterians unite because the thirteen members of one church and the seven of the other feel lonely in their great refrigerators and are inclined to make friends and preserve life. The cold is most intense. In the far North the weather is sometimes so severe that wild beasts, ordinarily hostile both toward each other and man, crowd close together near the campfire of the explorer. With many churches it is "unite or die!" The mallet of the auctioneer threatens the steeple-house, the young folks are off "golfing" or "hiking," and the gray-beards, lonely and terror-stricken as they see church extinction approaching, favor "a union of forces with some other church." In the church magazines of the next month appear sundry articles on "the broad and liberal spirit of the nineteenth century church." "A large catholicity is taking the place of the old fogyism of former days," scribbles the hack-writer. THE "MILKSOP'S" THEORY. In a few cases large congregations have united. When we behold it our hopes rise, but they are doomed to early blight by a careful study of the situation. The cause of denominationalism is the tenacious clinging to faith and doctrines. Whether or no we ought to all believe precisely alike about non-essentials, one thing is sure, the man who does not cleave to some faith, heart and head and brain and blood, is worthless in Christ's army. Milksops may be ornamental, they are certainly not militant, and God wants soldiers. The man who does not know what he believes, and the man who says "it does not matter what one believes if one is only sincere," are more despicable than the Yankees who burned witches in Salem. Better that a man be "narrow" than that he be so "broad" as to take in "the devil and all his angels." Out upon our folly when we barter away the truth of God for a flimsy, tissue-paper bond of so-called "fellowship"! CHRISTIAN ONENESS. There is a unity, however, and to it Christ referred, which does not consist in uniformity of creed but in oneness of heart. When we are truly sanctified the non-baptizing Quaker, and the trine immersionist, and the High Church Episcopalian, and the foot-washing Tunker, and the Methodist, and the Baptist, and the Congregationalist all unite in one far-reaching melodious chorus, "HOLINESS UNTO THE LORD!" DISTINCTIONS OBLITERATED. Sanctification destroys sticklerism for non-essentials and the lust for fine distinctions in dogmatics. It slays the doctrinaire and makes a red-hot revivalist out of him. The purified soul takes the Bible for his "credo" and loves God's children of whatever name with a generosity that overtops every inadequate consideration. The sanctified are united by a common cause and a common experience. Opinions may differ as to ecclesiastical polity or the mode of baptism, but the white cord of sanctification is "the bond of perfectness" which makes them one bundle. Yale and Cornell are rivals with their "eights" and "shells" on American Hudson, but men from both colleges join forces to beat the Britishers at Henley. Holiness people of every church unite to "push holiness." THE SPOKES AND THE HUB. When the glorious grace of full salvation is experienced, love for Christ is increased and intensified. Everyone wants to magnify Him and live close to Him: and as we get close to Him, the Hub, the distance between us, the spokes, is lessened. THE D.D. AND THE NEGRO. A D.D. and a negro meet on a Mississippi River boat. They fall into conversation. The doctor speaks of the Lord. The negro's eyes fill and he says, "You know my Savior?" and they shake hands and weep and shout. Why this community of feeling between men of such diverse stations in life? Both possess the blessing of entire sanctification. VARIOUS SECTS The writer has had the privilege of preaching in churches of different denominations in the work of special evangelism, but never has he known the falling of Pentecostal fire to fail to burn up sectarianism. It is no easy matter to find out from the preaching of our holiness preachers under what denominational flag they sail. Full salvation obliterates the fences which separate the people of God and makes them really "one in Christ Jesus." CHAPTER VI. FEARLESSNESS. PETER THE FEARLESS. There was a man among the one hundred and twenty "upper room believers" in whom Pentecost effected a most apparent and almost spectacular change. It was Peter. We remember him as the man at whom the young girl pointed her finger and laughed. We recall that he was so cowardly that he denied his Lord on the spot, swearing that he did not know Him. Behold this same Peter on the day of Pentecost. He is charging home the murder of Christ. Fear is gone, and gone forever. He faces men and does not flinch an iota. Carnality, the source of cowardice, has been removed, and the weakling is turned into a Lord Nelson for bravery, and a Savonarola for faithfulness to men's souls. SHALL WE TREMBLE? Fear of man is one of the most illogical things in the world. Men sell the blood of Jesus and hope of heaven and eternal happiness because of "what people say." Think of it, afraid of a man who will die and be hurried under ground before he rots! Frightened at a thing dressed in a long black coat and a white cravat with a golden-headed cane and a tall hat and a frown; a thing which will stop breathing some fine day and the worms will eat! Shall I tremble when an ecclesiastical Leo utters a roar? Shall I halt and stammer because a top-heavy lad from a theological seminary, hopelessly in love with himself, scowls at the word "sanctification"? QUEER COURAGE. There are some who bolster their courage by saying ostentatiously, "I don't care what folks say," but their very vehemence shows that they DO care a very great deal. We boys all remember how we used to whistle when we passed a graveyard after dark to show we "weren't afraid"; and how hard it was to keep our mouths puckered and how shaky our legs felt! AFRAID TO BREAK STEP The folks we are afraid of are afraid of us. What a situation! A great regiment of people marching straight down to hell, everyone afraid to break step for fear the others will laugh! That is precisely the condition of nearly every sinner. COURAGE OF THERMOPYLAE Sanctification takes away the shrinking timidity and puts in a courage like that at Thermopylae. There was once a young man who, previous to his sanctification, was so timid that he frequently stayed away from church for no other reason than that he feared God might ask him to testify. He enjoyed meetings and loved to hear preaching, but the very idea of testimony would frighten him almost ill. Now he frequently addresses many hundreds and never feels the slightest embarrassment. UNMASK PRURIENCY. The ministry is sadly in need of a blessing which will give it courage to attack sin of all kinds and degrees. We need men who will rip the mask off the putrid face of corruption and pronounce God's sentence upon it; who will lift up the trap-door of the cess-pools of men's hearts and bid them look within at their own slime and filth; who will "cry aloud and spare not," though the infuriated cohorts of bat-winged demons snarl and shriek. SPEAK PLAINLY. There will be a day when men will curse us because we have not preached more plainly. You can call a spade "a spade" or you can designate it as "an iron utensil employed for excavating purposes," but if you want folks to understand what you are driving at use the shorter term. SHOOTING OVER MEN'S HEADS. There is too little plain Anglo-Saxon preaching. We shoot far over the heads of our congregations and do not even scar the varnish on the gallery banister. We dwell on the points of distinction between Calvinism and Arminianism when the greater part of our people do not know the difference between an Arminian and an Armenian, and some good old sister thinks we are preaching on the cruelty of the Turks. Here I am discussing "The Dangers of Imperialism" and "The Anglo-American Friendship," while men are starving for the Bread of Life! Brethren in the ministry, let us be less anxious about the syllogistic accuracy of our sermons and be more eager to help men live right and quit sin and go to heaven. THE PULPIT CANNON. There are many sins which few men have the courage to antagonize in public. Theoretically the pulpit is supposed to cannonade all sin of every variety and species, but, alas, it is usually too cowardly. The Spirit-filled man fears no one from Sandow down to Tom Thumb, from a plug-hat Bishop to a little pusilanimous dude preacher. GHASTLY CRIMES. It is not that ministers are unawares of the prevalence of black and ghastly crimes, but that they dare not speak openly against them. Too many are contaminated with evil and involved in guilt for the preacher to voice with impunity the truths which burn in his soul. He knows only too well that if he dares assert his manhood and exercises the prerogative of Christ's minister, the retribution will be swift and terrible, viz: ejectment from his pastorate! MURDER How ominous is the silence concerning murder. And yet the land is swarming with crimson-handed murderers and murderesses. Many of them are members of our "best churches" and move in the most select society. Some of them read with animation the responses in church service and repeat the Lord's Prayer with the greatest gusto. A few--not many, we devoutly trust--talk about "sanctification." Poor, deluded, hoodwinked souls! they are blinded by Satan. Their hands are red with blood, and their hearts are black as hell. Were they to ever approach the heaven of which they sanctimoniously prate, they would be met at the gate with the curse of murdered infants who never saw the light. INFANTICIDE If there is a pitiable sight in all God's great universe, if there is a scene over which angels shed tears and demons shriek laughter, it is an old cruel-eyed mother, who has seared her conscience and sinned away all noble womanliness and blasted her own soul, whispering into the unsoiled ears of her daughter the way in which to murder her own offspring; and if there is a hot hell, such a mother will make her bed in it. POODLE-DOGS. The duties and cares of maternity are too irksome, and so the women who might be the mothers of John Wesleys and Fenelons and Metchers and Inskips and Cookmans are petting poodle-dogs and rat-terriers. THE VITRIOL OF WRATH. How many preachers dare speak in clarion tones what religion and science concur in asserting concerning vice? But know ye by these presents, all of Adam's race, that what depraved humanity pronounces all right and harmless, the Almighty God who whirls the worlds will corrode and scald with the burning vitriol of His wrath, and woe! woe! woe! to the man or woman with whom is found sin. GILT-EDGED FRAUDS. Any tyro knows who drowned Morgan, but the clergyman who "opens up" on Masonry is a curiosity. Why, how can the ministers say anything when they are the chaplains of these gilt-edged frauds called "lodges"? It does not take much calculation to show that an institution which spends three dollars in giving away one has no right to exist. Some of the more weak-minded and puerile of the clergy are doubtless in fear lest their "tongues should be torn out by the roots and their hearts buried in the rough sands of the seashore." Brave men are not so easily scared. BOLOGNA SAUSAGE. Secretism in itself is suspicious. Solon said that he wanted his house so constructed that the people could see him at all hours and thus know him to be a good man. A system which is so built that the public is kept in the dark is entitled to the attention of a Pinkerton. Bologna sausage made in a factory at the door of which is a huge sign, "No Admittance," may be all right, but you can not make people think so. THE ENTERTAINMENT. There are few preachers so foolish and illogical as to believe that the entertainment plan is the best way to raise money for church work, yet scarcely one of them declares his honest straight-forward conviction about it. Now and then a Hale, more daring than the rest, writes a remonstrative article for the Forum, but the great mass keep quiet. A Pentecostal ministry will wheel its guns into position and load and fire into the supper and festival crowd notwithstanding the voices of objectors. HEROISM. Whatever may be the matter under consideration the sanctified man dares anything right. God is with him, and he feels His presence. Right is right, and by the grace of God he will stand by it though all the world howl and roar. CHAPTER VII. RESPONSIVENESS TO CHRIST. A COAL AND A FLAME. Among the results of the coming of the Comforter is an increase in warm personal love for Jesus. Conversion plants divine love (agape) in the heart, but sanctification quickens and intensifies it. Conversion drops a coal into the breast; the fuller grace fans it into a flame. SOUNDING STRINGS. There is a place in experience where Christ's voice sets the whole being vibrating. The soul is so in tune with Him that the cadences of His tones fill the soul with a tremor of glee and gladness. If you sing the scale in a room where there is a piano the corresponding strings of the instrument will sound. Thus it is with Jesus and the sanctified soul. When Christ speaks the heart answers spontaneously. REGENERATION Regeneration does much for us. But there is that even in the heart of the regenerate which is antagonistic to Christ. The whole man does not say instinctively, "Thy will be done"; yet there is something within to which the Lord can appeal. Consult Peter. He tells us of "exceeding great and precious promises by which we become partakers of the Divine nature." We "take a part" (partakers) of the divine Shekinah into our hearts. We are not only "adopted" but born of God, and by a divine heredity we possess His character. SAMUEL. We see this beautifully illustrated in the case of Samuel. Given in covenant to God from his birth, and early taught the word of the Lord, he possessed the changed heart and the attuned ear. When God's voice fell out of the skies that night something in Samuel heard what aged and mitred Eli could not hear. Eli had the theory and reasoned out who the speaker must be, but the heart of Samuel awoke intuitively at the sound of that voice. THE VOICE FROM THE SKY. As Jesus taught in the temple God spoke, and many whose ears were dull because their hearts were hard and unchanged said, "It thundered." Others saw that something extraordinary had occurred and admitted that "an angel spoke to Him." But the disciples whose "names were written in heaven," and who had regenerated hearts, knew it was the voice of God. THE FLINTY WORLD. But while the child of God is in sympathy with God he must be sanctified wholly to be fully, constantly and completely responsive to Christ. Jesus wants a bride who will live His life with Him and enter into all His plans and sorrows, ambitions and trials, aims and purposes. There are many people who are glad Jesus died for them who know nothing about "suffering with Christ." Yet the Bible is filled with allusions to it. The Heavenly Bridegroom wants a companion who will understand Him. This cold, hard, flinty, wicked world does not. "He came unto His own and His own received Him not." He knocked at the door of His own vineyard and the husband-men said, "Come, let us kill the Son." The divine Lord hungers for some one who will not misjudge His purposes nor impute to Him base motives. THE UNAPPRECIATED. We have all seen people who were never appreciated. Those who were near to them by blood and kindred always thought them strange and visionary. What a sad thing if Christ's bride does not appreciate His aims for the world, His sorrow over perishing souls, His heart-ache over dying men! "The fellowship of His sufferings"--what can it mean? It means that we mourn over the sin in the world which makes Christ weep; sob over the evil that makes Him hang His fair head and groan. It means that ever and always we shall look at things from the Christ standpoint. THE SHEEP AND THE SHEPHERD. "My sheep know [recognize] my voice," says the Shepherd. He states the principle that "sheep" always hear when He speaks. "Lambs" may be at times mistaken as to the voices that cry in the soul, but Christians whose experience entitles them to the designation, "sheep," do not err as to the speaker. Watch a good shepherd collect his flock at evening. Every sheep knows him. It is getting dark, and the quiet animals are busily feeding in the fragrant clover, but the tender cadences of the voice of their guide and protector pierce their delicate ears and enter their gentle hearts, and the white flock comes bounding toward the shepherd. A sportsman in golf suit and plaid cap and with a fine baritone voice may call earnestly, but "a stranger will they not follow." The shepherd holds the key to their confidence, and no one else can unlock the door to their love. CHRIST HAS THE KEY. Christ has the key to our hearts. He stands in the dusk of evening in the falling dew and sends His sweet voice out across the billowing fields of clover, and all His sheep leap toward "the Good Shepherd." THE COW AND THE SUNSET. Sanctification brings out the power of appreciation in the soul. What God does for you fills your soul with gratitude, and you can get blessed any time of day or night by simply reflecting on the mercies and lovingkindnesses of the Lord. The natural human heart does not appreciate God, and sees nothing especially lovely in Him. A cow and the man who owns the cow may stand side by side and look at the same sunset. The cow sees a big splotch of crimson and gold; the other sees one of God's sky-paintings, and is inspired to holy living and self-denial and fidelity to the Master. You must have a "sunset nature" to appreciate a sunset, and you must be sanctified wholly to see in Christ a beauty and loveliness which no Murillo and no Raphael and no Del Sarto have yet put on canvas. THE LOVELY CHRIST. O the lovely Christ! How the heart aches to go to Him! We get so homesick for Jesus. People are so dull and uninteresting and vapid and stupid--so precisely like ourselves--we get weary of the world and its emptiness, and yearn to fly away to be with the spotless Christ and live in that "Undiscovered country, from whose bourne No traveller returns" Some day, thank God! the Bridegroom will step out upon the balcony of heaven and look at us and speak to us in a tone inaudible to all but ourselves, and our souls will bound with rapture and the earthen vessel will crumble and we will spread snowy pinions and wing our flight up to the presence of our soul's King! CHAPTER VIII. SOUL-REST. AN EFFECT. One of the beatific effects of the cleansing of the heart from all sin is soul-rest. It always accompanies the glorious experience of entire purity. FACIAL INSCRIPTIONS. This poor tired world of ours needs rest. Study the faces of the people you meet in the streets, in the markets, in the cars, in the churches, and there is one word NOT written on them, and that word is "Rest." You will find many other words written on them. On some faces you see "Selfishness" in crabbed, crooked letters; on others "Lust" in bold-faced type; on others "Gluttony"; on others, "Self-Conceit"; on others, "Craftiness"; and on through a thousand unworthy legends; but the one thing which makes life worth living is not found except among the sanctified. VAMPIRES AND BATS. It is wonderful how elusive rest is. You may search for it all your days and grow gray and haggard, and sit down in the evening of life with the vampires circling about you and be forced to confess, "I have not found rest!" You may retire from business and say, "I will spend my declining years in peace," but as the sun goes down the bats come out and flap the black skinny wings of the sins of other days in your affrighted face. If you are a student you may drop your books like Dr. Faust and hurry to the country, but the imp of restlessness will dog your steps and snare your pathway and you will carry home with you a Mephisto who will never leave you. THE SEEDS OF ANARCHY. Some Christian people seek rest in changing preachers, but there is nothing in that to bring it. You may leave the minister who thumps the desk and listen to a man with a nasal twang, but you are still restive and unsatisfied. You think the reason your peace of soul is disturbed is that Mrs. Garrulous talked about you, or that the weather is rainy and disagreeable, or that the meetings are dull, or that people are selfish. The real reason is that you have a restlessness in your heart characteristic of inbred sin. You possess the seeds of dissatisfaction, and lawlessness, and anarchy, and nothing but holiness of heart will expel them. THE OCEAN DEPTHS. Down in the unfathomed depths of old Ocean there is no movement, no disturbance. Gigantic "Majesties" and "Kaiser Wilhelms" and "Oregons" and "Vizcayas" plow and whiten the surface; tempests rage and Euroclydons roar and currents change and tides ebb and flow, but the great depth knows no ripple. It is said that down there the most fragile of frail and delicate organisms grow in safety. In the depths of the sanctified heart there is no storm and no breaker. Trials may come and leave white scars; billows may beat and surges may roll, and water-spouts and tornadoes may make the upper sea boil with anguish and sorrow and grief, but deep in the heart there is calm. There the delicate graces of the Spirit thrive and luxuriate. Great, soulless, iron-keeled, worldly institutions and sharp-prowed cutters may ride over your sensibilities, but the inner placidity is unbroken. THE ETERNAL SABBATH. God's plan is to rest us so we can work for Him with ease and success. He institutes an everlasting Sabbath in the spirit that we may be ceaseless in sanctified activities. If a man is always jaded and tired he can not take hold of his work with much enthusiasm. SPIRITUAL POISE. There is no mistaking the man or woman who has found the second rest. There is a poise of spirit and a sweet serious balance of soul which can not be counterfeited. The preacher who appreciates spirituality sees no sight more beautiful than the serene, calm faces of auditors from whose souls the tempests have been cast. Life's toils and distractions and disappointments have all been negatived by the power of the all-conquering Christ. A SCENE AT ALLENTOWN. These words are being written in the city of Allentown, Pa., where the writer is spending ten days in a series of Pentecostal services. Last evening we saw a symbol of the rest Christ gives. We strolled along the east bank of the Lehigh River about half an hour after sunset. All the western sky was beautiful with an afterglow. The water of the river, silver near the shore and golden toward the west, was as still as the face of a mirror. The trees on the shore leaned over perfect pictures of themselves. The hills, which fell back gracefully from the valley, were covered with cloaks of gold and vermillion and emerald, and not a leaf stirred in the evening air. Far up the river the tiny bell of a canal-mule tinkled drowsily. On the veranda of a little cottage a young mother crooned a lullaby to a slumbering child, and a little bird in a thick grove called, "Peace! Peace!" CALM. If God can make so beautiful a scene in the physical world, what can He not make in the spiritual? Thank God! He can excel anything the natural eye ever beheld. He can hang the soul with paintings and turn the "River of Life clear as crystal" through it, and fill the chambers of the heart with lullabies and the song of birds crying, "Peace!" If there are times when we are awed and charmed by "All the beauty of the world" let us remember that what we see is only a type of the grandeur and glory and splendor He will put in our spirit-nature if we but permit Him to sanctify us and cast out the storms and tempests. THE PAIN OF SYMPATHY. While we may possess and enjoy "the second rest" here and now, we need not forget that another is promised to us. We get weary physically sometimes here. The days frequently seem long and trying. There are hours and hours of labor, and nights and nights of toil, but, thank God! we can say at each sunset, "I am one day nearer rest." For while a sanctified man is always at rest spiritually, he can not rest physically to much satisfaction. In his dreams he can see the white, drawn faces of the doomed, and hear the wild uncouth shriek of the tormented. He remembers with horror that one hundred thousand souls are rolled off into Eternity while the earth makes one revolution! He thinks of cheerless homes, and torn and bleeding hearts, and wives waiting for the sound of unsteady steps, and children friendless and hungry, and figures leaping from bridges, and shaking hands holding poison, and maniacs behind the bars glaring with wild eye-balls through dishevelled hair! And he leaps from the couch with the cry, "O the pity of it all!" And he can not be still, he can not be idle, but is constrained to do his utmost by word and pen to save a sinking, gurgling, drowning humanity. WHEN IT IS ALL OVER. But one day it will all be over. Soon we shall all have preached our last sermon and prayed our last prayer and spoken our last word. Our lives will soon have passed into history. That blessed hour will soon be here in which we shall "lay down the silver trumpet of ministry and take up the golden harp of praise." Hallelujah, it is coming! it is coming! Praise the Lord! CHAPTER IX. PRAYERFULNESS. DELIGHT IN PRAYER. The precious grace of entire sanctification brings to the heart a prayerful spirit. Prayer becomes the normal occupation of the soul. One is surprised to discover that while it was formerly difficult, if not irksome, to pray at times, now one prays because it is delightful and easy. DE RENTY. Many of us have been surprised to read in the biographies of pious men and women that they frequently spent hours in prayer. But the sanctified man understands all that now. He can readily believe that De Renty heard not the voice of his servant, so intent was he gazing into the Father's face. He does not doubt that Whitefield in his college room was "prostrate upon the floor many days, praying for the baptism with the Holy Ghost." J.W. REDFIELD. The writer remembers of reading when just a child the thrilling life of John Wesley Redfield. There was nothing which struck the boy-reader with greater force than the prayerfulness of the man. It awed him, and made him long to enjoy such an experience as would make prayer so delightful. In the golden experience of sanctification he found that prayer was delightsome and blessed. Such is the uniform testimony of all who have been cleansed from depravity and anointed with the Holy Ghost. PRAYER HAS ITS ANSWER. God means true prayer to have audience. We can not understand how God can vouchsafe to us such tremendous effects as He asserts shall follow prayer. We can not defend prayer philosophically; but either "he that asketh receiveth," or the Bible is misleading and untrustworthy. TRUE PRAYER. But what is "true prayer"? In the first place, it is prayer which says, "Thy will be done." If we pray selfishly, "asking amiss," we can hope for no answer. We will get no hearing. We must ask with the thought, "What is the Father's will? What does He consider best?" DESPERATION. True prayer must be earnest. It was the IMPORTUNATE widow that was heard, and it is the importunate seeker that never fails of an answer. If when sinners, backsliders, or believers come to the altar they would pray with earnestness and desperation, there would be a far larger PER CENT. of them who would go away fully satisfied. God never gives great blessings to indifferent people. When He sees a man in an agony of desire and longing, then He hastens to gladden his heart with an answer. FAITH. Prayer must be full of faith. James makes this clear to us. "Let him ask in faith nothing wavering." God cannot bestow a blessing upon us if we doubt Him. If a neighbor doubts your character, how much of your heart do you let him see? If a fellow-preacher imputes selfish motives to your acts, how often do you go to him and pour your heart out to him? But those who believe in us--how frequently we run to them, unlock our hearts and tell them all! It is thus with God. If we believe His word, if we are sure of the veracity of His promise, and are confidently expecting an answer, He will not, can not disappoint us. THE FORGIVING SPIRIT. There must be in us a forgiving spirit if our prayers are to be heard. Forgiveness of our enemies precedes blessing for ourselves. "If ye forgive men their trespasses, your heavenly Father will also forgive your trespasses." If I am bitter in my heart toward any creature, God can not but be deaf to all my cries. If I nourish hatred, or meditate revenge, or plot the downfall of any man, my prayers are vain; yea, all my hope in Christ is futile! GOSSIPING PREACHERS. O that God may send us all the prayerful blessing! It is better that we pray than that we discuss politics or talk "shop," or gossip or jest. If we preachers and evangelists at camps and conventions would pray more instead of getting in groups and talking about a world of nothings, our sermons would mean full as much to those whom we address. UNBROKEN CONNECTION. Sanctification makes it possible for us to "pray without ceasing." The indwelling Paraclete keeps the heart in a constant spirit of prayer, so that at all hours and in all places prayers ascend. Communication is kept up between the heart and the throne of Grod. No snows break the wires. No floods wash away the poles. From the pulpit, from the sidewalk, from the counter, from the railway coach, from the sick bed, an ever-steady stream of prayer is kept up. They may befoul our names, but they can not stop our praying. They may "cast us out as evil," and may deny us pulpit privileges, and take away our salaries, but prayer and praise they can not stifle nor hinder. INCENSE AND THUNDER. The prayers of God's people are sweet to Him. "With much incense" burning in a golden censer (Rev. viii. 3) they float to His throne. But notice the effect of the prayers of saints. Not only is there a silence of an half-hour but "voices and thunderings and lightnings and an earthquake" are observed in the earth. The children of God, if they but pray and believe, can pull spiritual fire and earthquakes down upon earth and effect great things for God and His Church. CHAPTER X. SUCCESS. SUCCESS INTENDED. Nothing is clearer in the Acts of the Apostles than that the disciples after Pentecost had success in gospel service. Everywhere they went God rained fire upon their Word and sanctioned the truth which they preached by tremendous moral and spiritual upheavals. B. T. ROBERTS. Bishop Roberts has put the matter of success very succinctly: "If the lawyer must win his case and the doctor cure his patient in order to be successful, the minister and worker must save souls if they in their calling are to be said to be successful." But alas, saving souls is precisely what we are not doing. Thank God! there is here and there a man who stands out as a soul-saver. But the average minister is not distinguished for revivalism so much as proficiency in making a church social a "blooming success." FALLEN SAMSONS. We all want to seem to succeed. We shun and dread the appearance of failure. When a church begins to rot instead of grow it is natural for us to do our utmost to find out some way of excusing the retrogression without admitting our failure to reach men with the gospel. There are evangelists, who in the palmy days of their power had wonderful, heaven-gladdening revivals, who have ceased to wield "the sword of the Lord and of Gideon," and, in order to cover their spiritual nakedness, are forced to resort to finger-raising, card-signing methods for stuffing and expanding "the big revival." There is no more sobbing, no more desperate praying, no more shouting; all is "decent and in order," as well it may be, for all is dead. QUESTION OF EVANGELISM. Honor to soul-saving! Show us the man who wins men to our Master, that we may clasp his hand and look into his face. Right here hangs all the discussion about evangelism. If the evangelist gets men soundly and scripturally converted and sanctified, let us bid him Godspeed! If he only amuses them and deals in paltry three-cent sensationalism, away with more of the same sort of stuff which we already have in so many pastors! THE DIVINE RECIPE. One thing is certain: God intends success and only success for His people. If, as His children, we fail, it must be because we have not followed the divine recipe for power and accomplishment. It was because the one hundred and twenty obeyed Christ and tarried at Jerusalem that God used the early Church to whip the Roman Empire. "HOW TO SUCCEED" "How to Succeed," used as the title for a book, will make any book sell, though it be as dry as a patent-office report. People want to know how to succeed in the world. How strange then that ministers and churches who are brilliant and conspicuous failures should shun the preaching of Pentecost--the one cure for failure and the sole guarantee of success. EMPTY COMFORT. How many times some of us have sighed over our inefficiency! How frequently, in default of apparent results, we have been forced to console ourselves with the thought that we are "sowing seed" and that there will be an abundant harvest at no distant date! Thank God! there is success for us all. Pentecost will give it to us. JOHN THE BAPTIST. We do not mean by success financial opulence. A man may be a success and yet as poor as John the Baptist lunching on dried locusts and honey-comb. One may be as wealthy as Croesus and yet be an awful failure. A church may be rich and increased with goods and incur the Laodicean curse. PADDED STATISTICS. Neither does success mean a great and highly-trumpeted statistical report to lug to conference. Some of our most inspiring "successes" are all right on paper, but in reality they are stuffed and padded scandalously. No, success in Christian work is to "turn many to righteousness," save souls, and secure the sanctification of believers. If we do not see such results following our labor, we have either missed God's plan as to our selection of a field or we are not living in the present enjoyment of the Pentecostal Baptism. THE EPOCHAL EXPERIENCE. The preachers and evangelists who have won great successes in the calling of sinners to repentance have almost without exception testified to having received an "enduement" or "anointing" subsequent to their conversion. The Caugheys, the Moodys, the Whitefields, the Wesleys, the Foxes, the Earles, though in some instances they have not believed in holiness according to the Wesleyan view, have all had an epochal event after which their work and works were effective and startling. THE EFFECT OF PENTECOST. Pentecost coming to a mission-worker will fill his heart with enthusiasm and energy, and give him a host of jewels washed from the mire and shining like meteors. The same experience coming to a mechanic will fire him with a love for Jesus and a solicitude for souls that will make him pray and fast and weep and work for his fellow-laborers, for his neighbors, and for his friends. The Spirit coming to a gifted singer will cause her to consecrate her voice, like Rachel Winslow in Sheldon's "In His Steps," so that with holy melody she will reach hearts hitherto hard and untouched. THE PASSION FOR SOULS. One of the conditions of success in soul-saving is a passion for the salvation of immortal men and women. Full salvation always brings this, and as long as a worker lives in its plentitude and enjoyment he is consumed with a burning, longing, panting thirst for souls. THE GIGANTIC LANDSLIDE. The ministers of early Methodism and early Quakerism were not of the sort who congregate in groups and discuss the relative desirability of various appointments. They did not spend their leisure in jesting, punning and guffawing, but in praying, studying, and working, for even their vacations were turned into days of toil. They spent their all in one endeavor--to save men from a yawning Pit and a lurid Hell. Nowadays we live in perpetual relaxation and recreation. Smooth, insipid preachers talk to shallow, giddy audiences, and the whole thing is on a gigantic landslide. Lord, save! or death and damnation are sure. THE UNCERTAIN FAITH. There can be no successful denial of the assertion that real soul-absorbing earnestness in religion is dying out. We sometimes mock at the Herculean labors of men like Owen, and Baxter, and Calvin, and Edwards. But though these men were perhaps more or less legalistic and at times a little narrow, yet one thing is sure, they made religion the business of life, and went at it with zest, enthusiasm, and determination. Your modern "Christian" has "certain intellectual difficulties"; is "not fixed in belief concerning Socinianism"; does "not like the old idea of the Atonement"; in fact, is in a state of fusion so far as his belief and faith are concerned. Men do not give their life's blood for matters in which they have only a half-faith. But when one is convinced that men are dying in the dark and that their salvation depends in a measure on one's activity and fidelity, then one is hot with zeal and fire from hat to heel and set to working for God and eternal souls. WEEPING OVER CHORAZIN. This is the explanation of the zeal of men who are "burning for Jesus." This is the reason men so frequently wear out in short order after they are sanctified. They are dipped in fellowship with Christ's sorrow, and beholding Him weeping over modern Capernaums and Chorazins their hearts are melted at the sight, and they speed away to preach the gospel of the lovely Son of God. SANCTIFIED SUCCESS. No wonder success comes to the sanctified man. Indwelt by the Shekinah, filled with the Holy Ghost, his whole being energized with power and force, "whatsoever he doeth prospers." CHAPTER XI. VISITS OF ANGELS. DESCRIPTIVE PSALM. The ninety-first Psalm is a painstaking description of the blessings and benefits bestowed upon the man that "dwelleth in the secret place of the Most High." Without doubt the entire chapter should be taken as a photograph of the sanctified man. Among other things, this fortunate and favored person is told that he is to have angelic guards and ministers who will protect him and keep him "in all his ways." GOD'S OWN. The sanctified are in a peculiar sense God's own, and all the resources of heaven are pledged to their protection. All the fire companies of the firmament will turn out to extinguish a fire if it kindle on God's saints. If need be, Jehovah will empty His balm jars but the wounds of warriors shall be healed. Angels are detailed for our protection: heavenly visitants hover near us lest the fires of affliction destroy us. UNDERSTANDING CHRIST. The moment the soul is sanctified, it begins to understand Christ in a new and delightful sense. It is given unto it to not only sit at His feet in the temple, but to groan with Him in Grethsemane. It understands Him, and, in suffering, is "as He is in this world." A DARK HOUR. It was a dark, dark hour for the Master. He had been praying a long while, perhaps for several hours. The place was one familiar to Him. Many a night after a long, wearisome day of teaching in the temple, He had labored painfully up the slope of the Mount of Olives in search of the quiet of "the Garden." Here the Savior had His oratory. Sometimes the disciples were with Him; at other times He was alone. A NIGHT OF CRISIS. But this night was a night of crisis. The old olive trees, in all their centuries of life, had never witnessed so intense a struggle as that which took place on the night of His passion. Alive to all the pathos of the hour, awake to all the gravity of the situation, sensitive to the slightest breath, He prays to "the Father" with that desperation in which the flight of time and the doings of the world are all forgotten. UNCERTAINTY. There was much about the hour which made it a painful one. There was, first of all, an uncertainty concerning the will of "the Father." With a great cry the lonely Christ fell to the ground: "If it be thy will let this cup pass, nevertheless" let thy will, whatsoever it is, "be done." Evidently He was not at that time really sure what the plan of "the Father" was in regard to Him. A BITTER CUP. Uncertainty is a fearful test, when it comes to the soul of a man of great and energetic purpose. So long as there is no doubt about the course to be taken, so long as the plan is plainly revealed, it is easy for a courageous man to advance. But to such a one uncertainty is like a shock to the body, palsying the form and changing a strong arm into a nerveless, useless stick of bone and tissue. A cup may be very bitter, salt with the brine of tears and hot with the fire of vitriol, and yet, if all the ingredients in that cup are known to him who drinks it, grief has not reached its superlative. Socrates' duty was plain to him. Hemlock was in the cup, and he knew it. But the liquor with which God fills the tumblers of His people is brewed from a thousand elements. A TEST. To trust in the dark, to believe in a rayless midnight, to cling to a thread well-nigh invisible, to say "Amen" to God when one has no idea of the greatness of the meaning of "His will," that is the supremest test of loyalty. THE NIGHT PICKET. The night picket stationed far out from the camp has need of much greater courage than the soldier in battle ranks rushing on toward the enemy. The man at the lonely picket post, cloaked in darkness, is guarding against uncertainty. He can not tell at once whether a dark object is a dangerous spy or a browsing Brindle. Sounds must be noted and sorted lest the enemy steal up to the slumbering army and destroy it. The snapping of twigs, the low whistle of a bird, the groan of the wind, the murmur of a waterfall must all be listened to with care. EVIL TIDINGS. It is suspense and a nameless dread and fear that sap many a mind and heart. Moments of breathless expectancy of evil tidings are like years in the life, bringing ashes to the hair, lines to the cheek and listlessness to the eye. THE PALLED FACE. "Be sure you are right, then go ahead," said Tennesseean Crockett; but supposing that one can not "be sure" of anything except the love of God, supposing that one looks out through the tangled limbs of the olive trees of a Gethsemane to a sky studded with pitiless stars, supposing that the future is obscure and the present black as Styx, supposing that even the face of the Father Himself is palled and curtained--then must one be content to trust and only trust. THREE DISCIPLES There was another cause for pain in "the Garden." The three disciples, whom He had chosen to accompany Him in His dark and lonely vigil, slept as He prayed. We can bring ourselves to overlook the negligence and apathy of Nicodemus and Lazarus and Simon the leper and Zaccheus and the crowds who had merely heard Him preach. We are willing perhaps to excuse eight of the twelve for their drowsiness--perchance they did not apprehend the full meaning of the hour to the Master. But there were three disciples to whom Christ had ever laid bare His heart. With Him they stood in the death chamber in the house of Jairus. To them it was given to behold "the vision splendid" on the mount of transfiguration, and these alone Jesus chose to enter into the fellowship of his Garden sufferings. NO EXCUSE. These men did not nod and sleep ignorant of Christ's need of them. With that tender confidence with which a truly great and colossal man sometimes honors his friends, He had said, "My soul is exceeding sorrowful, even unto death." He had warned them with the words, "Watch and pray lest ye enter into temptation," and yet they slept! "OUR OWN AFFAIRS." It must have been a keen disappointment to Jesus to find His most trusted friends so indifferent to His needs. Is there anything in life sadder than the discovery that our own affairs are really only our own affairs? We had thought that they were our friends', as well as our own. We had supposed that our griefs were theirs also, but when Grethsemane comes into our lives, and we writhe and twist among the gnarled and knotted roots, when we turn with blanched, tear-sprinkled faces to our chosen James and trusted Peter and beloved John to gasp in their ears the story of our agony, we hear only the heavy breathing of sound sleepers. COLD, HARSH FACT. If there is a sharper pang than this, man's heart has not found it. We are by nature social beings. We crave fellowship and love and sympathy, and it is so hard for us to realize that our choicest friends are really "asleep" to our heart cries and heart interests. The cold, harsh fact can be believed but slowly. Even the Lord seemed to find it hard to convince His own heart that the John who had leaned at supper upon His breast, was resting while his Master was sweating blood. He prayed awhile and then, as if to see whether it was indeed true that no one watched to help Him, "He came and found them sleeping." Sad, cruel disappointment, and yet is it so rare that any one of us has not felt its sadness and cruelty? AN ANGEL. But while men forgot the Nazarene and His troubles, Grod did not forget. The Father was not negligent nor careless. "There appeared an angel unto him from heaven strengthening him." The night was not too dark for the angel to find Jesus, and the night of our troubles is never too thick and black for the angels to find us. The paths of "the Garden" may be grown up in weeds, the rough, scabeous limbs of the trees may hang close to the ground, the driving clouds may hide the moon and stars, but some celestial messenger will search us out and find us. IN MANY FORMS. God has many angels, and they come in many forms. Sometimes the solitary sufferer sees only a tiny flower, but love is in the flower, and he knows he is not utterly forgotten. It may be only an hand clasp, but warmth and sympathy are in it, and behold it is straightway "an angel strengthening him." Perchance it is a letter with a foreign postmark, but in it is nectar and ambrosia for a drooping spirit. Or the angel may come enveloped in a text of Scripture or flying on the wings of the music of some old hymn, such as: "Fear not! I am with thee. Oh, be not dismayed, For I am thy God! I will still give thee aid." In whatever role the angel may come, God sent him, and his mission is one of blessing and encouragement. HEAVENLY VISITANTS. We can well afford to suffer in the darkness, alone and uncomforted, if angels will but visit us. John Bunyan can well be content in Bedford gaol, if God but puts a dream in his head and heart that will last in the memories and characters of men, when the sun is a burned-out cinder and the stars are dying ash heaps. We can well be satisfied to have sorrows unutterable and griefs inexpressible, if heavenly visitants will but come to us. CHAPTER XII. GROWTH IN CHRISTLINESS OF LIFE. MAKING A BOTCH. One may have a clean, pure heart and yet be far from possessing a matured Christian character. A man may love God with all his heart, and yet not be wise in his selection of the things that will always please God. Frequently the preacher may come down from the pulpit having made a horrible botch of his attempt to serve God in the ministry. He may feel the fact keenly, and be even more conscious of it than any of his hearers. And yet that preacher may have a heart as white as Gabriel's wing and a soul full of love to God and man. But as time goes on, and he lingers repeatedly at the feet of Christ in prayer, God will show him how he can serve Him more effectively and without the objectionable features. UNJUST CRITICISM. The fact that purity is not maturity has given rise to misapprehension on the part of many people. Indeed, many of God's dear children have been misjudged and condemned because they did not have in addition to pure hearts sound and solid judgment. As soon as a man professes the blessing of perfect love, the sharp-eyed critics of the neighborhood look out for "perfect sense," and "perfect manners," and "perfect life," and when the subject of observation fails to meet the expectation of the aforesaid critics, there is a great hue and cry that "Sister A. or Brother B. has not got what is professed," when God knows they HAVE got JUST what they profess--namely, perfect love, full salvation. The Lord has never guaranteed a perfect head to any man that breathes. We will make mistakes as long as we hang around this old world, and it is injustice to exalted spirits who have this precious grace, and an insult to the God who gave the grace, to condemn sanctification because those who profess it are not angels, but simply men and women cleansed and filled with the Spirit. REPEATING MISTAKES. But while God makes allowance for our weakness and our frailty, we ought not to expect Him to indulge us in avoidable and needless errors. We made a mistake. Very well. We knew no better than to make it. But now that we do know better, we have no business repeating it. And right along here comes a great expanse of territory which holiness people need to cover. Here there is infinite room for advancement and progress. "THE IMITATION OF CHRIST" Thomas A'Kempis wrote a wonderful book on "The Imitation of Christ." The failure in so many quarters in becoming Christlike is due to the false method pursued. First, get a Christlike heart, and then let that heart govern your life and actions. "Work OUT your own salvation," said Paul, "for it is God that worketh IN you." Precisely! God puts a holy heart into a man's breast, and his business from thence on is to bring his life into line with the heart. The old life-habits may cling to him for a time, but it is the business of the sanctified soul to free itself from all that Jesus would not do were He on earth. Imitation of Christ comes after sanctification, and not before. You simply can not imitate Jesus if you have a reptile heart in you. If you have a filthy mind you will talk "smut" and think "smut" in spite of yourself. You may hide your bad self from the world, but your wife, or your husband, or your family, those who are acquainted with you intimately, know that you are base and coarse. DANTE. A glutton may stand and look at the thin, austere, ascetic face of Dante and say within himself, "I will be a Dante," but all the world knows that in a few hours he will be gourmandizing as swinishly as before. And men look at the beautiful Jesus held up in Unitarian pulpits and resolve to act like Him, and go right on being selfish, and proud, and deceitful, and devilish. There must be a moral miracle, there must be a spiritual upsetting and overturning, before a carnal heart can begin to imitate the pure and spotless Son of God. KINDNESS. After we are sanctified, we ought to imitate Christ in kindness. How kind He was! Where did He abuse anyone? He preached the truth, but He never maligned any of His auditors. THE "LITTLE THINGS" It is the "little things" that make up the mosaic of life. Our friends know us, not by the speeches we deliver, nor the sermons we preach, nor the books we write, but by the tones of our voices, and the letters we pen, and the words we use in daily life. Introduce kindness into a discordant family and how Eden-like the home becomes! Why are we not as considerate and polite to those who are all the world to us as we are to strangers and neighbors? Christlike kindness would fill our hearts with thoughtfulness for those about us. It would bid us carry a torch to many a darkened life, and incite us to share the burden pressing upon many an aching shoulder. TRUE HUMILITY. Christ had great charity for the faults of those with whom He was associated. How He bore with the dull and almost stupid disciples! How He bears with us in our worse and more inexcusable blockheadedness! And, if He is so charitable and patient with our faults, how ought we to be with others? There comes a time in our lives when we are simply astonished that people pay any attention to us at all. We are so conscious of our short-comings, and so keenly aware of our mistakes, that it seems to us that surely no one is quite so blundering and fallible as we are. How easy it is then to bear with one another! LOOKING-GLASS HUMILITY. We ought to work humility out into our lives. Jesus lived an humble life--a life of the truest and deepest humility. Not a humility conscious of itself and ever gazing at itself through the fancied eyes of others, but a humility that was real and unaffected. A CHRISTLIKE MAN. The writer has in mind a man of deep and earnest piety, a scholar, a successful preacher and author. With all his learning and scholarship he is as humble as a child, and one can not look at him without feeling, "There is a Christ-man." Often as the pen flies quickly across the page, or as the lips are moving in the delivery of a sermon, or as an altar service is in progress, the slight, thin figure of that man flashes to the brain, and the eye grows dim and the heart-prayer rises, "Lord, make me an humble man." There are so many great men, eloquent men, learned men, dignified men, but so few humble men. God, increase their number in the land! ACTIVITY. Another thing in Jesus' life which sanctified people ought to learn to imitate was His activity. His days, and even His nights, frequently, were filled with service. After long days of teaching and preaching, He would seek out some quiet nook and spend the still and lonely hours of night in prayer to the Father. THE INDIVIDUAL VISION. Men who come into close touch and communion with Christ are impelled irresistibly to earnest and ceaseless service. They see needs which no one else seems to see. They hear the plaintive voices of dying men, and the tearful cries of despondent women, and the helpless moans of unloved children. They have visions which others never understand, and dream of things with which their dearest friends can not sympathize. They have given their all that they may know Christ, and He has rewarded them by disclosing His heart to them. They know why His face is tearful, and His voice is filled with sadness. They know why He is "a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief." They are baptized into a baptism of love for souls, and compassion for the sorrowing, similar to that in which He is plunged. It is for this reason that men hear the voice of God calling them away from the hearth-stone out into the desolate earth. ST. TELEMACHUS. St. Telemachus heard the voice of God, and straightway "followed the sphere of westward wheeling stars," and journeyed on to Rome muttering, "The call of God! The call of God!" Not on a foolish errand did he go, for, after his visit to the Eternal City, gladiatorial combats ceased. "HE THAT WARRETH" Brethren, be true to Christ. Let not even those who love you best draw you from a steadfast purpose to spend your life and all for the Galilean. Flee ease and luxury and comfort, and impose hard tasks upon yourselves. Your friends may seek to hinder you with cries of, "Rest! Tarry!" but like Christian in Bunyan's dream stop your ears and go quickly on your journey. THE HOME COMING. Some day your little service will be complete. Your sun will set. The west will be filled with beauty, and the birds will twitter softly in the trees as you trudge the last mile into the City; and as the shades deepen, and the air grows chill, the Master Himself will meet you, take you to His heart, wipe the tear from your cheek, the dust of the road from your brow, and the sorrow from your heart, and lead you to the court, where with those whom you love, and those who love you, Eternity will be spent in the light of His pure and shining face. EXPERIENCE THE VALUE OF TESTIMONY. It has pleased God to place in our hands two weapons by which we are to overcome Satan--"the blood of the Lamb, and the word of our testimony." It was the narrated experiences of the people of God, and the modest declarations of the saving power of Christ, which convicted me of my need and led me to seek the grace of God. Very briefly, therefore, I will sketch God's dealings with my own soul. EARLY PRAYER. I was born September 30th, 1877, at Westfield, Indiana. My parents were both ministers in the Society of Friends, and I can not remember When I first began to pray, for my mother taught me to go to God with everything, even when a very small child. When I was five and a half years of age we moved to Walnut Ridge, Indiana, where there was a Friends' meeting of more than ordinary size and activity. It was here that my conversion took place. I remember the event as distinctly as if it were yesterday. CONVICTION. I always prayed at the family altar, and that was an institution which was never neglected for anything in our home, and I had never omitted my evening devotions; but one summer day while playing by myself under the trees in the front yard, a great fear came upon me lest I had never had a change of heart. Though less than six years old, I had sat in the "gallery" behind my father as he preached too often to be ignorant of the necessity of the new birth. It was a perfect day, but conviction settled upon me more and more deeply, and a dark shadow seemed to take the brightness from everything. Unable to endure the heartache any longer, I ran into the house and sat down with my father and mother, waiting in silence for some time. Finally I asked them if I had "ever been converted," told them I "wanted to be," and immediately we knelt in prayer. How I did weep, and how badly I felt! I can see the back of that little sewing-rocker now swimming in my tears. (I wonder where that rocking-chair is now! The last I knew it was in California, having left us at an auction--an occasion not unfamiliar to most of preacher-families.) They told me to pray, and I prayed with all my heart. If ever there was a little boy who felt that he was a great sinner, I was the boy. I remembered all the things I ever did that I knew were wrong. My boyish wickednesses, things that seem a rather absurd lot now in the light of the sins of the average lad of six that I know to-day, caused me great pain. Soon peace came, and what happiness! When I went out doors again the very birds twittered with increased gladness, and the sky seemed a far deeper blue, and the grass and flowers rejoiced with me in my new-found experience. RETROGRESSION. Would God I had retained my simple faith in Jesus! But it was not long before I wandered away from Christ, and the life of prayerfulness and obedience. For years my religious experience was most unsatisfactory. I was under frequent convictions, and knew that the Spirit was striving with me persistently, but I hardened my heart and would not yield completely to God. As I look back at those years of restlessness and rebellion, I recall with gratitude the forbearance and long-suffering of a now sainted mother. How she carried her proud, stubborn boy on her heart, and how she held onto God's skirt and tugged away until He answered. THE STRIVING OF THE SPIRIT. During the winter of 1891-1892 I became almost wretched on account of conviction. The Holy Ghost fairly dogged my steps and whispered in my ear at every turn. There were many things which He used to convict me of--my unfaithfulness and aridity of soul and life. My junior year at Oak Grove Seminary is distinctly remembered as a time of continuous conviction and unrest. Now and then I would find peace and comfort for a time, but they remained only for a time. I kept up secret devotions very carefully. I never missed my daily prayers, but my life was inconsistent and God-dishonoring. The lives of real Christians rebuked me, and the mockery of my empty profession haunted me like a spectre. RECLAMATION. In the summer of 1892 I began to seek God earnestly, and was not long in finding pardon and reclamation. No sooner was I at peace with God than I began to hunger for holiness. O, how my heart longed for full salvation! I saw much about me that was an indication that there was an experience enjoyed by some of which I was not possessed. My mother's calm, victorious life, and her constant unwavering Christian faith, convicted me. I was proud and selfish, and hypersensitive and ambitious. She was restful, contented, loving, meek. How frequently I gave way to some temptation, and how mortified I was to be so humiliated by the Adversary. HUNGER FOR HOLINESS. Many of the members of my father's church at Portsmouth had an experience of freedom and liberty which I craved. In July my father, my mother, and I spent a couple of days at Douglas camp-meeting. I remember so well every incident of the trip--my deep unrest as we entered the grounds, my aversion to certain "boisterous persons" who said "Bless the Lord" so frequently, my disrelish for food, my dislike of taking a front seat in the audience. Two old sisters sat facing the preacher one evening. Their faces were full of joy, and they seemed to overflow with joy and spiritual exhilaration. I inwardly said, "I wish I had an experience like they seem to have." I made up my mind I would seek. I can not recall a word of the sermon. I do not think I heard it at the time--my mind was so full of an inward struggle. CANDIDATE FOR SANCTIFICATION. When the call was made, I went forward and consecrated myself and all my hopes and desires and longings and all to God. How in the world I had ever acquired so low a desire I do not know, but my chief ambition had been to be a professor of science in some college. But the Lord put me through a series of questions: "Will you be my property henceforth?" "Yes, Lord." "Are you willing that people should call you a 'holiness crank'?" "Yes, Lord." "Supposing I should ask you to shout, would you?" "I would do my best at it." "Will you give up all your plans and be a one-horse preacher of holiness if I want you to?" Ah, here was a rub, indeed. Preaching was precisely what I did not relish. Anything rather than that. I had visions of small salaries, and country churches, and long, cold rides. I had seen the life of the preacher ever since I could remember. I debated the question. Then I answered, "Yes." The audience was singing: "Here I give my all to Thee-- Friends and time and earthly store. Soul and body then to be Wholly Thine forever more." They told us seekers to raise our hands if we meant it. I meant it, so up went a hand. Instantly faith got an answer, and the witness came, and I knew that I was sanctified wholly. A DULL SCHOLAR But I was a dull scholar, and had to learn many lessons after my Jordan-crossing. Owing to my failure in definite testimony, my experience suffered partial eclipse, and my last year at Oak Grove was more or less dark and unhappy. I was much helped, however, by the reading of holiness books sent me by a sanctified music-teacher, who had interest enough in me to write me real Fenelon letters and keep me supplied with holiness reading. During the summer of 1893 I was more fully established in the grace, and in the autumn began to preach. THE ABIDING CHRIST. I have frequently erred in judgment, and made most stupid blunders, but the perpetual spring experience of full salvation has been my greatest comfort and blessing. The abiding Christ gives zest and spice to life, and makes the ministry of holiness delightful and joyous. GOD ALWAYS ANSWERS. God has blessed my ministry, and given me success. It is all of Him. What a wonderful God we have! He never leaves us. I have called upon Him when preaching, and He has always answered. I have cried to Him in hours of loneliness and discouragement, and He has replied like a flash. I stood by a cot and watched a saintly mother slip away to the "undiscovered bourn," and He did not fail me. Hallelujah! He can not only sanctify, but He can preserve, sustain and keep. Whatever may come to us, Christ will not forsake us. As we look down the vista of years to come, and remember that life is swift and serious, we can only lean hard on the Son of God and push on, confident that His promise, "Lo, I am with you alway," can not fail. Praise the Lord! THE END. 
42460	----	scanned by Fox in the Stars from the collection of Brays Advent Christian Church in Iberia, Missouri) OPINIONS OF THE PRESS. =Secular.= 'The book is a distinctly readable one.'--_Glasgow Herald_, September 18, 1902. 'Really excellent little work.'--_Daily News_, September 26, 1902. 'We cannot commend it too highly.'--_Western Morning News_, January 2, 1903. 'Carefully thought-out little work ... written with frank and tolerant impartiality.'--_Standard_, May 26, 1905. 'The arguments are admirably marshalled; difficulties are not evaded, but met fairly.'--_Westminster Review_, August, 1905. 'We welcome a new edition.... The appeal of the book is evidently one to common sense, and the success it has met is fully deserved. There is a healthy lay atmosphere about Colonel Turton's arguments which renders them, we fancy, peculiarly effective.'--_Pall Mall Gazette_, March 11, 1907. 'It is difficult to know whether to admire most the logical precision with which he marshals his facts, and enforces his conclusions, or the charming candour, and freshness of style, which make his book so readable.'--_Liverpool Daily Post_, March 14, 1907. 'This is a new edition, thoroughly revised, of LIEUTENANT-COLONEL TURTON'S famous book.... We are specially struck with the detached manner in which he examines the case; he holds the scales evenly, and is not rhetorical. Anyone who has any power of reasoning at all can follow him clearly from start to finish.'--_Bristol Times and Mirror_, February 18, 1907. 'It is a book for the hour, and needs to be circulated by thousands ... straightforward, manly, and convincing.'--_Schoolmaster_, March 27, 1909. =Church of England.= 'The book is of considerable value to everyone who is concerned with the controversy on Christian Evidences; it presents a perfect storehouse of facts and the conclusions which may be legitimately drawn from them.'--_Church Times_, November 2, 1900. 'We have already expressed our high opinion of this work--the author of which, it may be mentioned, is serving in South Africa.'--_Guardian_, October 17, 1900. 'This thoughtful and convincing treatise.... We are glad to be able to give our good word for the book, which should be found in the catalogue of every public library in the kingdom. It is a volume admirably suited for a gift-book to young men. It furnishes an armoury of invincible weapons against the scepticism and semi-scepticism which are rampant among us.'--_English Churchman_, November 1, 1900. 'This very excellent volume.... We strongly recommend this book to the clergy for their own use and for lending to thoughtful and painstaking readers.'--_Church Union Gazette_, January, 1901. 'It is one of the best books of its class, readable, candid, convincing, and thorough. It would be cheering news to hear that it had been widely read. The book will continue to make its way; and all Christians will rejoice that it should do so.'--_Church Intelligencer_, October, 1905. 'We give a hearty welcome to this revised edition. It is admirably suited for general use.'--_Churchman_, February, 1909. 'This is a textbook on Christian Evidence we would readily place in the hands of the lay worker as an essential part of his equipment.'--_Lay Reader_, December, 1912. 'There is no padding, and no unnecessary rhetoric. All the available space is filled with good solid reasoning, put in simple language which an intelligent artisan can follow as easily as an educated person.'--_Church Family Newspaper_, October 3, 1902. 'Throughout the book the reader will be delighted with the sanity and level-headedness of the writer, whose frequent appeals to common sense are remarkably telling and effective.'--_Birmingham Diocesan Magazine_, October, 1907. 'The brilliancy of the author does not consist in his rhetoric or appeal, but in the really brilliant fairness which he displays towards the other side, in the accuracy with which he analyses each situation, and in the clear and simple arguments which he adduces.'--_Church Standard_, January, 1906. 'Personally, we have never met with any book which can be more confidently recommended.'--_Church Army Review_, December, 1912. 'This is the kind of book which strengthens believers and makes converts. It is one which should be placed within the reach of every lad at that period of his life when he begins to think for himself.'--_The_ (Church Lads') _Brigade_, October, 1905. =Roman Catholic.= 'We most heartily wish that a copy of it could be found in the library of every Catholic family, school, and institution.'--_Catholic Times_, January, 1909 (sixth notice). 'This excellent book, ... well written, attractive in its style, clearly thought out, and convincing.'--_Tablet_, August 29, 1903. 'This is a work of uncommon merit.... The style is clear and makes for pleasant reading. We wish many of our Catholic young men would try and analyse a chapter in COLONEL TURTON'S helpful defence of Christianity.'--_Universe_, July 21, 1905. 'Having read and thoroughly approved every page of the book, we can well believe that many clergy and teachers are finding it a useful compendium of replies to all the chief arguments advanced against Christianity. Though written by a non-Catholic, we can most strongly recommend it as a book of the highest merit.'--_Catholic Herald_, February 19, 1909. 'A capital book already much used by priests in this country, and to be found upon the shelves of very many of our clerical libraries. But we wish that the Catholic paterfamilias would procure it too, and recommend it to his boys ... There is a masculine ring about it, and no shuffling over difficulties.'--_Catholic Fireside_, March 23, 1907. =Presbyterian.= 'One does not know what to admire most in the book--the accurate knowledge gathered from so many fields, the clear reasoning, the sound judgment, or the fine spirit which animates the whole.'--_Christian Leader_, June 15, 1905. 'Admirably arranged and clearly expressed.'--_Weekly Leader_, October 6, 1902. 'One of the best books of its kind.'--_St. Andrew_, June 1, 1905. 'This is an admirable summary. It is clear, simple, and well arranged ... The style also makes it extremely readable.'--_Presbyterian_, March, 1906. =Nonconformist.= 'He is eminently fair to opponents, clear in statement, and convincing in argument for his own case, and his standpoint, is unmistakably evangelical. His style suits his work, being calm, lucid, and simple.'--_Methodist Times_, August 22, 1901. 'Is a tried favourite, and has served the Kingdom in many lands. There is no book of the class known to us so complete and conclusive.'--_Methodist Recorder_, February 28, 1907. 'It deserves all the good that has been said of it.'--_United Methodist_, November 19, 1908. 'One characteristic may be singled out for notice--the writer's extraordinary alertness in the use of the most recent material. He seems to be continually on the watch for discoveries and suggestions, and to be able to utilise them promptly and skilfully.'--_Baptist_, January 21, 1909. 'On the whole, it is the best popular summary that we have met. It excels in definiteness of purpose, in clearness of statement, in moderation, and in conciseness.'--_Baptist Times_, October 24, 1902. 'The book is one that every young man would do well to read. Its absolute fairness, convincing logic, and withal extreme simplicity are such as cannot fail to establish the faith of multitudes.' _Y.M.C.A. Review_, December, 1912. 'The author's line of argument is irresistible in its rugged force. ... A fascinating book.'--_Social Gazette_ (Salvation Army), April 27, 1907. =Agnostic.= 'Again, as in 1902, we commend LIEUTENANT-COLONEL TURTON'S book as a handy epitome of nearly all conceivable arguments in support of Christianity. The twenty-four chapters champion twenty-four propositions, and the whole thing is worked out as systematically as a problem in a successful student's honours paper. ...However, it is of no avail to argue such points with our well-meaning and unimaginative Lieutenant-Colonel; and we will merely remark that he is quite a gentleman, and uses no disdainful language towards the poor Agnostic.'--_Literary Guide and Rationalistic Review_, March, 1907. 'This remarkable volume contains over 500 pages, with scarcely a dull one among them. The author's easy flow of unlaboured thought, his facility of expression, and his fine gift of exposition, carry the reader on in spite of himself.... Differ as we may from much that is in the gallant Colonel's volume, we gladly pay him the respect due to frankness, cleverness, and transparency of mind and motive, and thank him for putting his own side of a great subject so simply and interestingly, and without prejudice or bitterness.'--_New Age_, August 3, 1905. THE TRUTH OF CHRISTIANITY THE TRUTH OF CHRISTIANITY BEING AN Examination of the More Important Arguments For and Against Believing in that Religion COMPILED FROM VARIOUS SOURCES BY LT.-COL. W. H. TURTON, D.S.O. LATE ROYAL ENGINEERS NINTH EDITION FORTIETH THOUSAND (_Carefully revised throughout_) LONDON WELLS GARDNER, DARTON & CO., LTD. 3 AND 4, PATERNOSTER BUILDINGS, E.C. AND 44, VICTORIA STREET, S.W. 1919 _First Edition published Oct., 1895. }1,000 copies._ _Cheap " " Oct., 1897._ } _Third " carefully revised " Sept., 1900._ 1,000 " _Fourth " " " " Mar., 1902._ 2,000 " _Fifth " " " " Mar., 1905._ 3,000 " _Sixth " " " " Jan., 1907._ 5,000 " _Seventh " " " " Nov., 1908._ 8,000 " _Eighth " " " " Nov., 1912._ 10,000 " _Ninth " " " " Oct., 1919._ 10,000 " TRANSLATIONS: _Japanese Edition published Dec., 1910. 500 copies._ _Italian " " Oct., 1915._ 1,000 " _Chinese " shortened " June, 1919._ 1,000 " _Arabic " " Oct., 1919._ 1,000 " PREFACE TO NINTH EDITION. I have again carefully revised the whole book. Some additions have been made here and there, especially in Chapter XIX.; but as a rule the alterations have been merely to shorten and condense the arguments where this could be done without spoiling them, and to simplify the language as much as possible. The book is thus shorter, and I hope simpler than any previous edition. Another slight improvement, which will commend itself to most purchasers, is reducing the price to 2s. net. The work, as before stated, lays no claim to originality, and I have not hesitated to borrow arguments and illustrations from any source. The references to the Bible are all to the Revised Version. W. H. T. 29, CALEDONIA PLACE, CLIFTON, BRISTOL, _October 1, 1919_. CONTENTS PART I. _NATURAL RELIGION._ CHAPTER PAGE I. THAT THE UNIVERSE HAD A CREATOR 3 II. THAT THE CREATOR DESIGNED THE UNIVERSE 10 III. THAT THE EXISTENCE OF GOD IS EXTREMELY PROBABLE 30 IV. THAT MAN IS A FREE AND RESPONSIBLE BEING 38 V. THAT GOD TAKES AN INTEREST IN MAN'S WELFARE 57 VI. THAT GOD MIGHT MAKE SOME REVELATION TO MAN 82 VII. THAT A MIRACULOUS REVELATION IS CREDIBLE 98 PART II. _THE JEWISH RELIGION._ VIII. THAT THE ACCOUNT OF THE CREATION WAS DIVINELY REVEALED 117 IX. THAT ITS ORIGIN WAS CONFIRMED BY MIRACLES 137 X. THAT ITS HISTORY WAS CONFIRMED BY MIRACLES 167 XI. THAT ITS HISTORY WAS CONFIRMED BY PROPHECIES 186 XII. THAT THE JEWISH RELIGION IS PROBABLY TRUE 201 PART III. _THE CHRISTIAN RELIGION._ XIII. THAT THE CHRISTIAN RELIGION IS CREDIBLE 221 XIV. THAT THE FOUR GOSPELS ARE GENUINE FROM EXTERNAL TESTIMONY 252 XV. THAT THE GOSPELS ARE GENUINE FROM INTERNAL EVIDENCE 265 XVI. THAT THE GOSPELS ARE GENUINE FROM THE EVIDENCE OF THE ACTS 287 XVII. THAT THE RESURRECTION OF CHRIST IS PROBABLY TRUE 301 XVIII. THAT THE FAILURE OF OTHER EXPLANATIONS INCREASES THIS PROBABILITY 324 XIX. THAT THE OTHER NEW TESTAMENT MIRACLES ARE PROBABLY TRUE 349 XX. THAT THE JEWISH PROPHECIES CONFIRM THE TRUTH OF CHRISTIANITY 374 XXI. THAT THE CHARACTER OF CHRIST CONFIRMS THE TRUTH OF CHRISTIANITY 396 XXII. THAT THE HISTORY OF CHRISTIANITY CONFIRMS ITS TRUTH 415 XXIII. THAT ON THE WHOLE THE OTHER EVIDENCE SUPPORTS THIS CONCLUSION 436 XXIV. THAT THE THREE CREEDS ARE DEDUCIBLE FROM THE NEW TESTAMENT 458 XXV. THAT THE TRUTH OF THE CHRISTIAN RELIGION IS EXTREMELY PROBABLE 483 INDEX OF TEXTS 495 INDEX OF SUBJECTS 502 PART I. _NATURAL RELIGION._ CHAP. I. THAT THE UNIVERSE HAD A CREATOR. " II. THAT THE CREATOR DESIGNED THE UNIVERSE. " III. THAT THE EXISTENCE OF GOD IS EXTREMELY PROBABLE. " IV. THAT MAN IS A FREE AND RESPONSIBLE BEING. " V. THAT GOD TAKES AN INTEREST IN MAN'S WELFARE. " VI. THAT GOD MIGHT MAKE SOME REVELATION TO MAN. " VII. THAT A MIRACULOUS REVELATION IS CREDIBLE. CHAPTER I. THAT THE UNIVERSE HAD A CREATOR (_A._) THE ORIGIN OF THE UNIVERSE. Explanation of the universe, its origin, a Free Force. (1.) The Philosophical Argument. If the universe had not an origin, all events must have occurred before, and this seems incredible. (2.) The Scientific Argument. From the process of evolution and the degradation of energy. (_B._) THE CREATOR OF THE UNIVERSE. The Single Supernatural Cause, which originated it. It is proposed in this Essay to consider the reasons for and against believing in the truth of Christianity, meaning by that term, as will be explained later on (Chapter XIII.), the doctrines contained in the Three Creeds. For convenience the subject has been divided into three Parts, Natural Religion, the Jewish Religion, and the Christian Religion; but the second of these may be omitted by anyone not specially interested in that subject. At present we are considering _Natural Religion_ only, which deals with the great questions of the Existence of God, and the probability, or otherwise, of His making some Revelation to man. And we will commence at the very beginning, though the first chapter will unfortunately have to be rather technical. (_A._) THE ORIGIN OF THE UNIVERSE. Now by the universe is meant the _material_ universe, which includes everything that exists (earth, sun, stars, and all they contain), with the exception of immaterial or spiritual beings, if there are any such. And by this universe having had an _origin_ is meant that it was at some time acted on by a _Free_ Force, that is to say, by a force which does not always act the same under the same circumstances, but which can act or not as it pleases. No doubt such a force would be totally different from all the known forces of nature; but there is no difficulty in understanding what is meant by the term, since man himself _seems_ to possess such a force in his own free will. He _seems_ for instance to be able to raise his hand, or not, as he likes. We are not, of course, assuming that man's will is really free, but merely that the idea of a free force, able to act or not as it pleases, is well known and generally understood. Hence the statement that the universe had an origin means that at some time or other it was acted on by such a Free Force; in other words, it has not existed for ever under the fixed and invariable forces of nature, and without any external interference. We have now to consider the two arguments in favour of this, which may be called the Philosophical and the Scientific argument. (1.) _The Philosophical Argument._ By this is meant that, when we reflect on the subject, it seems inevitable that if the universe had not an origin, all present events must have occurred before. The reason for thinking this is, that if all free force is excluded, it is plain that matter must be eternal, since its coming into existence at any time could not have been a necessity, and must therefore have been due to some free force. It is equally plain that what we call the forces of nature and the properties of matter must also be eternal, since any alteration in them at any time would also have required a free force. And from this it follows that no _new_ event can happen _now_. For every event which the forces of nature could possibly bring about of themselves would, since they have been acting from eternity, have been brought about long ago. Therefore present events are not new, but must have occurred before. This is no doubt a possible theory. For example, if we assume that the universe will in process of time work itself back into precisely the same condition in which it was long ago as a _nebula_ or anything else, when it will begin again precisely the same changes as before; then, and only then, is it possible that it has been going on doing so from all eternity. But this theory, though possible, is certainly not credible. For it requires that all events, past, present, and future, down to the minutest detail, have occurred, and will occur, over and over again. They must, in fact, form a _recurring series_. And when applied to a single example, say the history of the human race, this is seen to be quite incredible. We must hence conclude that the universe has not existed for ever under the fixed forces of nature, and without any external interference; in other words, that it had an origin. No doubt there are difficulties in regard to this theory also, but they are mostly due to our ignorance. We may not know, for instance, whether matter itself is eternal. Nor may we know why, if a free force once acted on the universe, it never apparently does so at present, and still less can we picture to ourselves what such a force would be like; though the difficulty here is no greater than that of picturing a force which is not free, say gravity. But our ignorance about all this is no reason for doubting what we do know. And it appears to the writer that we do know that, unless present events have occurred before, which seems incredible, the universe cannot have existed for ever without some _Free Force_ having acted on it at some time. In short, it seems less difficult to believe that the universe had an origin than to believe that it had not. (2.) _The Scientific Argument._ And this conclusion is greatly strengthened by two scientific theories now generally accepted--that of the process of evolution and the degradation of energy; both of which seem to show that the universe had a beginning. The first subject, that of _Evolution_, will be discussed more fully in the next chapter. All that need be said here is, that the atoms of the universe, with their evolving properties, cannot have existed eternally; for then the course of evolution would have commenced in the eternal past, and would therefore have been finished now. But this is certainly not the case, and evolution is still in progress, or at all events was so a few thousand years ago; and a state of progress cannot be _eternal_. It thus differs from a mere state of _change_ which as we have seen, might be eternal, if the changes were recurring. But a state of _progress_, in which the changes are not recurring, but all tend in one direction, can never be eternal. It must have had a commencement. And this commencement cannot have been a necessity, so it must have been due to some Free Force. In short, evolution requires a previous _Evolver_; since it cannot have been going on for ever, and it cannot have started itself. The other theory, that of the _Degradation of Energy_, is that all energy (motion, etc.) tends to _heat_; the simplest instance being that of two bodies hitting each other when a certain amount of motion is lost, and a corresponding amount of heat is produced. And heat tends to be equally distributed. The heat, for instance, which is now stored up in the sun will in process of time be distributed throughout space, and the same applies to the whole universe; so that everything will eventually have the same temperature. And though this may take millions of years, they are yet nothing to eternity. Therefore, if the universe with all its present forces has existed from eternity, and without any external interference, it must have been reduced to this state long ago. So if this theory is correct (and the only reason for doubting it, is the curious behaviour of _radium_), it seems not only probable, but certain, that the universe had an origin. But an objection has now to be considered. It may be said that the above reasoning is merely another form of the old argument, 'Everything must have a cause, and therefore there must have been a First Cause;' the obvious answer to which is, that then this First Cause must also have had a cause, and so on indefinitely. But this is not the case; for the alleged First Cause is of a different _kind_ from all the others. It is a _Free_ Cause, whereas natural causes are not free, but are themselves effects of other natural causes; and these, again, of previous ones. What we want is a cause which is _not_ also an effect, in other words, a cause which is not moved by anything else, but is moved by itself, or _Free_. When once we get to such a cause as this, there is no need for a previous one. This objection, then, cannot be maintained, and we therefore decide that the universe had an origin. And all we know at present about the Force which originated it, is that it was a Free Force. And the conclusion at which we have arrived may be concisely expressed by saying, that before all natural causes which acted necessarily, there was a _First Cause_ which acted voluntarily. (_B._) THE CREATOR OF THE UNIVERSE. We have next to consider what else we can ascertain in regard to this First Cause. To begin with it can scarcely be disputed at the present day that it was a _Single_ Cause, as modern science has completely established the unity which pervades the universe. We know for instance that the same materials are used everywhere, many of the elements which exist on this earth being also found in the sun and stars. Then there is the force of gravity, which is all-embracing, and applies equally to the most distant stars, and to the most minute objects on this earth; and many other examples might be given. But it is scarcely necessary, as everyone now admits that the universe (as the word implies) is one whole, and this plainly points to a _Single_ First Cause. Nor can it be disputed that this First Cause was _Supernatural_, which merely means that it differs from natural forces in being _free_; for this is exactly what we have shown. It was thus no kind of gravitation, or electricity, or anything of that sort. All these and all similar forces would always act the same under the same conditions; while the Force we are considering was of a different kind. It was a _Free_ Force, a Force which voluntarily chose to originate the universe at a certain time. And such a Force must clearly have been Supernatural. In conclusion we will call this _Single Supernatural Cause_, which originated the universe, its _Creator_. And if it be objected that the universe may have had no _origin_, owing to some Free Force having been always acting on it, such a Force must also be Single and Supernatural, and may equally well be called its Creator. CHAPTER II. THAT THE CREATOR DESIGNED THE UNIVERSE. Design means voluntary action, combined with foreknowledge. (_A._) EVIDENCE OF DESIGN. Seems overwhelming throughout organic nature; and we are not appealing to it to show the Creator's existence, but merely His foreknowledge. (1.) The example of a watch: its marks of design show that it had a maker who foresaw its use. (2.) The example of an eye: this also has marks of design, and must also have had a Designer. (3.) The evidence cumulative. (_B._) THE EVOLUTION OBJECTION. (1.) The meaning of Evolution: it is a process, not a cause. (2.) The effect of Evolution on the present argument: it increases the evidence for design. (_C._) THE FREE WILL OBJECTION. (1.) Its great improbability: for several reasons. (2.) Free Will and Foreknowledge not inconsistent; so the chief argument in its favour cannot be maintained. Conclusion. Having decided that the universe had a Creator, we have next to examine whether the Creator designed the universe. Now by _Design_ is meant any voluntary action, combined with foreknowledge of the results that will follow from such action. So when the Creator originated the universe, if He foreknew the results of His action, it would be to _design_ those results, as the word is here used. And these include, either directly or indirectly, the whole course of the universe, everything that exists, or that ever has existed in the world. By the word _foreknew_ it is not meant that the Creator necessarily _thought_ of all future events, however insignificant, such as the position of the leaves on each tree; but merely that He was able to foresee any of them He wished, and in this sense foreknew them. Compare the case of memory; a man may be able to remember a thousand events in his life; but they are not all before his mind's eye at the same time, and the insignificant ones may never be. In the same way the Creator may have been able to foresee all future events in the world's history without actually thinking about them. At all events, this is the kind of foresight, or rather foreknowledge, which is meant to be included in the term _design_. (_A._) EVIDENCE OF DESIGN. Passing on now to the evidence of design, this is of the most varied kind, especially throughout organic nature, where we find countless objects, which seem to point to the foresight of the Cause which produced them. The evidence is indeed so vast that it is difficult to deal with it satisfactorily. Perhaps the best way will be to follow the well-known _watch_ argument of Paley, first showing by the example of a watch what it is that constitutes marks of design; next, how a single organ, say the human eye, possesses these marks; and then, the cumulative nature of the evidence. (1.) _The example of a watch._ Now, when we examine a watch, we see that it has marks of design, because the several parts are put together for a _purpose_. They are so shaped and arranged as to produce motion, and this motion is so regulated as to point out the hour of the day. While, if they had been differently shaped or differently arranged, either no motion at all would have been produced, or none which would have answered the same purpose. And from this, we may infer two things. The first is that the watch had a _maker_ somewhere and at some time; and the second is that this maker understood its construction, and _designed_ it for the purpose which it actually serves. These conclusions, it will be noticed, would not be altered by the fact that we had never seen a watch made; never knew a man capable of making one; and had no idea how the work could be done. All this would only exalt our opinion of the unknown watchmaker's skill, but would raise no doubt in our minds either as to his existence, or as to his having made the watch for the purpose of telling the time. Nor should we feel that the watch was explained by being told that every part of it worked in strict accordance with natural laws, and could not possibly move otherwise than it did; in fact, that there was no design to account for. We should feel that, though the action of every part might be in strict accordance with law, yet the fact that all these parts agreed in this one particular, that they all helped to enable the watch to tell the time, did show design somewhere. In other words, we should feel that the properties of matter could only partly account for the watch, and that it required a skilful watchmaker as well, who made use of these properties so as to enable the watch to tell the time. Now suppose on further investigation we found that the watch also possessed the unexpected property of producing in the course of its movements another watch very like itself. It might, for instance, contain a mould in which the new works were cast, and some machinery which fitted them together. What effect would this have on our former conclusions? It would plainly increase our admiration for the watch, and for the skill of its unknown maker. If without this extra property, the watch required a skilful maker, still more would it do so with it. And this conclusion would not be altered by the fact that very possibly the watch we were examining was itself produced in this way from some previous one, and perhaps that from another. We should feel that, though each watch might be thus produced from a previous one, it was in no sense _designed_ by it. And hence this would not in any way weaken our conviction as to the existence of a watchmaker somewhere and at some time who designed the whole series. This, then, is the watch argument. Wherever we find marks of design, there must be a designer somewhere; and this conclusion cannot be altered by any other considerations whatever. If, then, we find in nature any objects showing marks of design, the obvious inference is that they also had a designer. And this inference, it should be noticed, does not depend on any supposed _analogy_ between the works of man and the works of nature. The example of the watch is merely given _as an example_, to show clearly what the design argument is; but the argument itself would be just as sound if man never had made, and never could make, any object showing marks of design. Moreover, to complete the example, we must assume that the _existence_ of the watchmaker, and the fact of his having made the watch, are already admitted for other reasons. And we are only appealing to these marks of design to show that _when_ he made the watch, he must have known that it would be able to tell the time, and presumably made it for that purpose. And in this case the inference seems, if possible, to be still stronger. (2.) _The example of an eye._ We will next consider the _human eye_ as an example of natural organs showing marks of design. It is a well-known instance, but none the worse on that account. Now, in order to see anything clearly, it is necessary that an image or picture of it should be formed at the back of the eye, that is, on the _retina_ from whence the impression is communicated to the brain. And the eye is an instrument used for producing this picture, and in some respects very similar to a telescope. And its marks of design are abundant and overwhelming. To begin with, in both the eye and the telescope the rays of light have to be _refracted_, so as to produce a distinct image; and the lens, and humours in the eye, which effect this, somewhat resemble the lenses of a telescope. While the _different_ humours through which the rays pass, prevent them from being partly split up into different colours. The same difficulty had of course to be overcome in telescopes, and this does not seem to have been effected till it occurred to some one to imitate in glasses made from different materials the effect of the different humours in the eye.[1] [Footnote 1: Encyc. Brit., 9th edit., vol. xxiii., p. 137.] In the next place, the eye has to be suited to perceive objects at different _distances_, varying from inches to miles. In telescopes this would be done either by putting in another lens, or by some focussing arrangement. In the eye it is effected by slightly altering the _shape_ of the lens, making it more or less convex. A landscape of several miles is thus brought within a space of half an inch in diameter, though the objects it contains, at least the larger ones, are all preserved, and can each be distinguished in its size, shape, colour, and position. Yet the same eye that can do this can read a book at the distance of a few inches. Again, the eye has to be adapted to different _degrees of light_. This is effected by the _iris_, which is a kind of screen in the shape of a ring, capable of expanding or contracting so as to alter the size of the central hole or pupil, yet always retaining its circular form. Moreover, it is somehow or other self-adjusting; for if the light is too strong, the pupil at once contracts. It is needless to point out how useful such a contrivance would be in photography, and how much we should admire the skill of its inventor. Again, the eye can perceive objects in different _directions_; for it is so constructed that it can turn with the greatest rapidity right or left, up or down, without moving the head. It is also provided _in duplicate_, the two eyes being so arranged that though each can see separately should the other get injured, they can, as a rule, see together with perfect harmony. Lastly, our admiration for the eye is still further increased when we remember that it was formed _before birth_. It was what is called a _prospective_ organ, of no use at the time when it was made; and this, when carefully considered, shows design more plainly than anything else. On the whole, then, the eye appears to be an optical instrument of great ingenuity; and the conclusion that it must have been made by someone, and that whoever made it must have known and designed its use, seems inevitable. These conclusions, it will be noticed, like the similar ones in regard to the watch, are not affected by our ignorance on many points. We may have no idea as to how an eye can be made, and yet feel certain that, as it exists, it must have been made by someone, and that its maker designed it for the purpose it serves. Nor should we feel that the eye is explained by being told that every part of it has been produced in strict accordance with natural laws, and could not have been otherwise; in fact, that there is no design to account for. No doubt every single part has been thus produced, and if it stood alone there might be little to account for. But it does not stand alone. All the various and complicated parts of the eye agree in this one remarkable point, and in this one only, that they all help to enable man to see; and it is this that requires explanation. We feel that there must be some connection between the cause which brought all these parts together and the fact of man's seeing. In other words, the result must have been designed. Nor does the fact that every organism in nature is produced from a previous one of the same kind alter this conclusion. Indeed, as was shown with reference to the watch, it can only increase our admiration for the skill which must have been spent on the first organism of each kind. Moreover, no part of the design can be attributed to the _parents_. If, for instance, the eyes of a child show design, it is not due to the intelligence or designing power of its father and mother. _They_ have not calculated the proper shape for the lens, or the mechanism of the iris, and as a rule know nothing whatever about it. And the same applies to _their_ parents, so that our going back ever so far in this way brings us no nearer to what we are in search of. The design is still unaccounted for, we still want a designer. We hence conclude that the marks of design in the eye afford, at all events, what seems to be a very strong argument in favour of a _Designer_. And if only one eye existed in the universe, and there were no other mark of design in nature, this conclusion would be none the less clear. (3.) _The evidence cumulative._ But the argument is far stronger than this. It is cumulative in a _triple_ sense. To begin with, an eye is found not in one man only, but in millions of men, each separately showing marks of design, and each separately requiring a designer. Secondly, the human eye is only one example out of hundreds in the human body. The ear or the mouth would lead to the same conclusion, and so would the lungs or the heart. While, thirdly, human beings are but one out of many thousands of organisms in nature, all bearing marks of design, and showing in some cases an even greater ingenuity than in the human eye. Of course, as a rule, the lower organisms, being less complicated than the higher ones, have less striking marks of design, but their existence is equally clear; the flowers of plants affording some well-known examples. Nor is this all, for even the world itself bears traces of having been designed. Had it been a mere chaos, we might have thought that the Creator was unaware of what would be the result of His action. But a planet like our earth, so admirably adapted for the support of life, can scarcely have been brought about by accident. We conclude then, on reviewing the whole subject, that there are countless objects in nature, more especially organs like the eye, which bear strong marks of having been _designed_. And then the Unity of Nature, and the fact that all its parts act on one another in so many ways (the eye for instance being useless without light), shows that if anything has been designed, everything has been designed. Now there are two, and only two, important objections to this argument, which may be called the _Evolution_ and the _Free Will_ objection. (_B._) THE EVOLUTION OBJECTION. The first objection is that the whole of nature has been brought about in accordance with fixed laws by the process of _Evolution_. Therefore, though it is possible the Creator may have foreseen everything that exists; yet the apparent marks of design in nature, being all the necessary results of these laws, do not afford any evidence that He actually did so. And before discussing this objection we must first consider what we mean by laws of nature and natural forces. Now by a _law of nature_ is meant any regular, or uniform action which we observe in nature. For example, it is called a law, or rule of nature that (with certain exceptions) heat should expand bodies, which merely means that we see that it does so. In other words, we observe that heat is followed by expansion, and we therefore assume that the one is the cause of the other. But calling it a law of nature for heat to expand bodies, does not in any way account for its doing so. And the same is true in other cases, so that a law of nature _explains_ nothing, it is merely a summary of the facts to be explained. It should also be noticed that a law of nature _effects_ nothing. It has no coercive, or compelling power whatever. The law of gravitation, for instance, has never moved a planet, any more than the rules of navigation have steered a ship. In each case it is some power or force acting according to law which does it. And _natural forces_ are those which, as far as we know, _always_ act according to some fixed law. They have no freedom of choice, they cannot act or not as they like; they must always and everywhere act the same under the same circumstances. We pass on now to the subject of Evolution, first considering its meaning, and then its effect on the present argument. (1.) _The meaning of Evolution._ Now by the term Evolution is meant to be included the processes of Organic Evolution, Natural Selection, and the Survival of the Fittest. The former may be described as meaning that all the different forms of life now existing, or that ever have existed on this earth, are the descendants of earlier and less developed forms, and those again of simpler ones; and so on, till we get back to the earliest form of life, whatever that may have been. And the theories of _Natural Selection_ and _the Survival of the Fittest_ explain how this may have taken place. For among the slight modifications that would most likely occur in every organism, those, and only those, would be perpetuated which were of advantage to it in the struggle for existence. And they would in time, it is assumed, become hereditary in its descendants, and thus higher forms of life would be gradually produced. And the value of these theories is that they show how Organic Evolution may have taken place without involving any sudden change, such as a monkey giving birth to a man. We must remember, however, that the subject is far from settled; and even now naturalists are beginning to doubt whether all the modifications were in reality very slight. But still, speaking broadly, this is the theory we have to discuss. It will, of course, be noticed that Evolution is thus a _process_, and not a _cause_. It is the method in which certain changes have been brought about, and not the cause which brings them about. Every slight modification must have been caused somehow. When such modifications were caused, then Natural Selection can explain how the useful ones alone were perpetuated, but it cannot explain how the modifications themselves arose. On the contrary, it supposes them as already existing, otherwise there would be nothing to select from. Natural Selection, then, rather weeds than plants, and would be better described as Natural _Rejection_. It merely shows how, as a rule, among the various modifications in an organism, some good and some bad, the useless ones would disappear, and the useful ones would remain; in other words, how the fittest would survive. But this survival of the fittest does not explain in the slightest degree how the fitness arose. If, as an extreme example, out of a hundred animals, fifty had eyes and fifty had not, it is easy to understand how those that had eyes would be more likely to have descendants; but this does not explain how they first got eyes. And the same applies in other cases. How, then, did the variations in each organism first arise? In common language they may be ascribed to chance; but, strictly speaking, such a thing is impossible. The word _chance_ is merely a convenient term for the results of certain forces of nature when we are unable to calculate them. Chance, then, must be excluded; and there seem to be only two alternatives. Either the organisms in nature possessed free will, and acted as they did _voluntarily_; or else they did not possess free will, and acted as they did _necessarily_. The former theory will be examined later on; the latter is the one we are now considering. (2.) _The effect of Evolution._ How then would this theory affect our previous conclusion that the Creator designed all the organs of nature, such as the eye, and hence presumably the whole of the universe? As we shall see, it only confirms it. For to put it plainly, if all free will on the part of the organisms is excluded, so that they were all bound to act exactly as they did, it is clear that the earth and all it contains is like a vast mass of machinery. And however complicated its parts, and however much they may act on one another, and however long they may take in doing so, yet if in the end they produce an organ showing design, this must have been foreseen and intended by the Maker of the machinery. In the same way if a mass of machinery after working for a long time eventually turned out a watch, we should have no hesitation in saying that whoever made the machinery, and set it going, intended it to do so. And is the inference less clear, if it not only turned out a watch, but a watchmaker as well, and everything else that exists on this planet? All then that evolution does is this. It shows that the whole of nature forms such a long and continuous process; that if the end has been foreseen at all, it must have been foreseen from the beginning. In other words, just as the Unity of Nature shows that if anything has been designed, everything has been designed; so Evolution shows that if it has been designed at all, it has been designed _from the beginning_. We must hence conclude that the organs in nature, such as the eye, which undoubtedly show design, were not designed separately or as _after-thoughts_, but were all included in one grand design from the beginning. And this can only increase our admiration for the Designer. Thus evolution, even in its most extreme and automatic form, cannot get rid of a Designer. Still less can it do so, if (as is probable) it is not automatic at all; but is due to the _continuous_ action of the Creator, who is what is called _immanent_ in nature, and directs every step. It should be noticed, moreover, that in one respect evolution rather _increases_ the evidence of design. For if, to take a single example, a human hand has been evolved from a monkey's foot merely by the monkey using it as a hand, and taking hold of things; it increases the amount of design which must have been spent on the foot to enable it to do so. And if _all_ the organs in nature have been evolved in this way from simpler ones, it increases the amount of design which must have been spent on those simpler ones to an extent which is practically infinite. Thus Evolution implies a previous _Involution_; since all forms of life must have been involved in the first form before they could be evolved from it; so that creation by evolution is more wonderful than creation by direct manufacture. And it seems to many to be a far nobler conception of the Creator that He should obtain all the results He desired, by one grand system of evolution, rather than by a large number of separate creations. For then the _method_ in which the results were obtained would be as marvellous, and show as much wisdom and foresight as the results themselves; and each would be worthy of the other. Evolution, then, seems to be the highest form of creation; and so far from destroying the present argument, it only destroys its difficulties, by showing that every single part of every single organism may have been _designed_, and yet in a manner worthy of the great Creator. Nor is the conclusion altered if we carry back the process of evolution, and assume that the earliest form of life was itself evolved from some previous form of inanimate matter; and this again from a simpler one, and so on till we get back to the original form of matter, whatever that may have been. For if the results as we now see them show design, then the argument for a Designer is not weakened, but our ideas of His skill are still further increased, if we believe that they were already secured when our earth was merely a nebula. (_C._) _The Free Will Objection._ We have, lastly, to consider the other, and more important objection, that arising from _Free Will_. Why, it is urged, may not all organisms in nature have possessed free will within certain limits, and have selected those forms which suited them best? For example, referring to the case of a watch, if telling the time were of any advantage to the watch itself, and if the spring, wheels, and hands possessed free will; then it might be thought that they had formed themselves into that arrangement which suited them best. And if so, the idea that the watchmaker foresaw and intended them to adopt this arrangement seems unnecessary. Now, in the case before us, as the organs showing design in nature, such as the eye, always conduce to the welfare of their possessor, the objection is certainly worth considering. But as we shall see, it is most improbable, while the chief argument in its favour cannot be maintained. It need scarcely be pointed out that we are not assuming that the organisms have free will, but merely admitting that they may have it; and if anyone denies this, the objection, as far as he is concerned, falls to the ground at once. (1.) _Its great improbability._ This is apparent because low down in the scale of nature (plants, trees, etc.), the free will of the organisms, if they have any, must be extremely limited; yet they bear unmistakable marks of design. While, in higher beings which have (or may have) an undoubted free will, it is hard to believe that it can effect anything like what is required. Would, for instance, wishing to see or trying to see, even if blind animals were capable of either, have ever given them eyes? And the same applies in other cases. It is hence most improbable that the marks of design in nature are due to the organisms themselves, rather than to their Creator. But there is one important argument on the other side, which, if it could be maintained, would be sufficient to outweigh all this improbability. It is, that some beings, such as man, do, as a matter of fact, possess a free will, and that man can and does alter his condition, to a slight extent, by using that free will. Therefore, it is said, it is impossible for the Creator to have foreknown what man's condition would be, because free will and foreknowledge are _necessarily_ inconsistent. But this latter point is disputed. (2.) _Free Will and Foreknowledge not inconsistent._ Now, although at first sight freedom of action seems inconsistent with any foreknowledge of what that action will be, yet on closer examination this will be found to be at least doubtful. For our own experience seems to show that in some cases, at all events, it is not in the nature of things impossible to know how a free being will act. For example, I myself may know how, under given external conditions, I will act to-morrow. Never being sure of these, I cannot be said to actually foreknow the event; so that foreknowing with man is never more than foreguessing. But I may be quite sure how, _under given conditions_, I will act. For instance, I may know that, provided I keep in good health, provided I receive no news from anyone, provided, etc, I will go to my office some time to-morrow morning. Yet I feel equally sure that this foreknowledge of mine does not prevent the act when it comes from being quite free on my part. My knowing this evening what I will do to-morrow does not oblige me to do it. My foreknowledge of the event does not bring the event about. It is in no sense its _cause_. The act when it comes is due to my own free will, I merely foreknow _what use I will make of my freedom_. And these are probably the common feelings of mankind on the subject. It seems, then, that my foreknowledge need not be inconsistent with my free will. And hence, if I tell someone else how I will act, _his_ foreknowledge would not be inconsistent with my free will. So that in some cases, and under given conditions, it does not seem impossible for a man to foreknow how another man will act, yet without interfering with his freedom. In short, free will does not seem to be _necessarily_ inconsistent with the foreknowledge even of man, though it is always practically so, owing to man's imperfect knowledge of the surrounding circumstances. But the Creator knows, or may know, these circumstances fully, therefore it must be still less inconsistent with _His_ foreknowledge. Of course it may be said that if the Creator foreknows how I will act to-morrow, I am _certain_ to act in that way; and this is doubtless true. But it does not follow that I _need_ act in that way; for _certainty_ is not the same as _necessity_. This is obvious enough in regard to a past event. I certainly did it, but I need not have done it; and it may be equally true in regard to a future event. I will certainly do it, but I need not do it. Therefore the Creator may know that I will do it, though it will still be _free_ on my part. And this is strongly confirmed when we reflect that the difficulty of knowing how a free being will act, however great in itself, seems as nothing compared with the difficulty of _creating_ a free being. Apart from experience, we should probably have thought this to be impossible. Yet man has been created somehow. Is it then unlikely that the Being who was able to overcome the greater difficulty, and create a free man, should also be able to overcome the lesser difficulty, and foreknow how he would act? Moreover, if free will and foreknowledge are _always_ and _necessarily_ inconsistent, then the Creator cannot have any foreknowledge of _His Own_ acts, or else they are not free on His part; neither of which seems at all probable. We are not, of course, arguing from this that He actually does foreknow how He will act Himself, or how a free man will act, but only that it is not in the nature of things impossible that He should do so; in other words, that free will and foreknowledge are not _necessarily_ inconsistent. And this is precisely what we had to show. The marks of design in nature afford what seems to be overwhelming evidence in favour of the foreknowledge of the Creator. The objection we are considering is that, in spite of all this evidence, we must still deny it, because some of the organisms in nature, such as man, possess a free will; and therefore any foreknowledge is in the nature of things impossible. And the instant it is shown that such foreknowledge is not impossible, the objection falls to the ground. We may now sum up the argument in this chapter. We first explained that by _Design_ was meant any voluntary action combined with foreknowledge of the results of that action. We next considered the evidence for design in nature, taking, as a single example, the human eye. And this evidence appeared complete and overwhelming; more especially as we were not appealing to it to show the existence of a Creator, which is already admitted, but merely His foreknowledge. And we have since considered the two apparent objections to this argument arising from Evolution and Free Will. But when carefully examined, the former only strengthens the argument, while the latter does not weaken it. We therefore conclude, on reviewing the whole subject, that the Creator _designed the universe_. CHAPTER III. THAT THE EXISTENCE OF GOD IS EXTREMELY PROBABLE. (_A._) MEANING OF THE TERM GOD. The Personal Being who designed and created the universe. (_B._) TWO OF GOD'S ATTRIBUTES. Wisdom and Power. He is also Omnipresent. (_C._) THE OBJECTION THAT GOD IS UNKNOWABLE. This is partly true; but everything is unknowable in its real nature, though in each case the partial knowledge we can obtain is all we require. (_D._) SUMMARY OF ARGUMENT. The position in the argument at which we have now arrived is this. We showed in the last chapter that the Creator designed the universe; in other words, that when he created it, He foreknew its future history. And from this the next step, as to the existence of God, is quite plain; in fact, it is merely a question of words. (_A._) MEANING OF THE TERM GOD. Now any being who is able to design we will call a _personal being_. And GOD is the name given to the Personal Being who designed and created the universe. But it ought to be noticed, before we pass on, that the term _personal being_ is also applied to _man_, and is said by many writers to involve the three ideas of _thought_, _desire_, and _will_. But these seem to be all included in design; for if I design anything, I must first of all _think_ of it, then _wish_ it, and then _accomplish_ it. We will examine in the next chapter whether man is a personal being as we have used the term; but if we admit that he is, we have another and independent argument in favour of the Creator being so too. For the Creator has somehow or other produced man, with all his attributes; so He cannot be a mere impersonal Being or Force, since a cause must be able to account for its effect. And a free and intelligent man cannot be due to a Force, which is neither free nor intelligent. Therefore, if man is a personal being, it follows that man's _Maker_ must be so too. It should also be noticed that man's mind and spirit, which make him a personal being, cannot be discovered by any physical means. And this meets the objection that we cannot discover God by any physical means. It would be much more surprising if we could. But though the telescope can find no God in the heavens, just as the microscope can find no mind in man, the existence of each may be quite certain for other reasons. In popular language, all we can see is the _house_, not the _tenant_, in either case. (_B_). TWO OF GOD'S ATTRIBUTES. We must next notice somewhat carefully two of God's attributes, _Wisdom_ and _Power_. Both of these are involved in the idea of a Personal Being able to design. For _design_, as used in this Essay, means originating or freely doing anything, as well as previously planning it. Therefore, if we use the word, as is often done, for planning alone, we must remember that a personal being is one who can both design and accomplish. The former implies a mind able to form some plan, and the latter a free force, or will, able to carry it out. So a personal being must of necessity have _wisdom_ to design and _power_ to accomplish. And considering the vastness of the universe and the variety of its organisms, it seems only reasonable to conclude that the Creator possesses these attributes to the greatest possible extent, so that He is both Omniscient and Omnipotent. It is important, however, to notice the meaning given to these words. By _Omniscient_, then, we mean possessing all possible knowledge. Now the only knowledge which might be thought impossible is how a free being would act in the future, and we have already shown that such knowledge is not in the nature of things impossible; so there does not seem to be any necessary restriction here. But with _Omnipotent_ the case is different. This means, as just said, possessing all possible power; that is to say, being able to do anything which is not impossible. Of course some Christians may be inclined to answer, that _with God all things are possible_; but as He who said so began one of His own prayers with the words _if it be possible_, this cannot be taken in its widest sense.[2] And provided the word _impossible_ is used in its strict meaning, we have no reason for thinking that God could do impossible things; such as make a triangle with the properties of a circle, or allow a man a free choice between two alternatives, and yet force him to choose one of them. These, then, are two of the great attributes of God, Wisdom and Power. There is a third, which will be considered in Chapter V. [Footnote 2: Matt. 19. 26; 26. 39.] It should also be noticed that besides being the Designer and Creator of the universe in the past, God seems to be also its _Preserver_ at the present, being, in fact, the _Omnipresent_ Power which is still working throughout nature. That there is such a Power can scarcely be denied (however hard it may be to realise), and that it is the same as the Creating Power is plainly the most probable view. God is thus the Cause of all natural forces now, just as He was their Creator in times past; and what are called secondary or natural causes, have probably no existence. They may, indeed, be called secondary _forces_, but they are not _causes_ at all in the strict sense; for a cause must be _free_, it must have the power of initiative. Thus man's free will, if it is free, would be a real secondary cause, but the forces of nature are mere links in a chain of events, each of which is bound to follow the previous one. This is often spoken of as the Divine _Immanence_ in nature, and means little else than the Omnipresence of a Personal God--the all-pervading influence of One 'who is never so far off as even to be called near.' (_C._) THE OBJECTION THAT GOD IS UNKNOWABLE. We must lastly consider an important objection which may be made to the whole of these chapters. It may be said that the human mind is unable to argue about the _First Cause_, because we have no faculties for comprehending the Infinite; or, as it is commonly expressed, because God is _Unknowable_. Now this objection is partly true. There is a sense in which all will admit that God is Unknowable. His existence and attributes are too great for any human mind to comprehend entirely, or for any human language to express completely and accurately. Therefore our statements on the subject are at best only approximations to the truth. We can apprehend His existence, but we cannot comprehend it, and God in His true nature is certainly _Unknowable_. But, strictly speaking, it is the same with everything. Man in his true nature is also unknowable, yet we know something about man. So, again, the forces of nature are all unseen and unknowable in themselves, yet from their effects we know something about them. And even matter when reduced to atoms, or electrons, or anything else, is still a mystery, yet we know a good deal about matter. And in each case this knowledge is not incorrect because it is incomplete. Why, then, should the fact of God being in His true nature unknowable prevent our having some real, though partial, knowledge of Him? In short, we may know something about God, though we cannot know everything about Him. And it should be noticed that Natural Religion and Natural Science are alike in this respect--they are both founded on inferences drawn from the observed facts of nature. For example, we observe the motion of falling bodies, and infer the existence of some force, gravity, to account for this. Similarly, we observe the marks of design in nature, and infer the existence, or at least foresight, of some Being who designed them. In neither case have we any direct knowledge as to the cause of what we see. And in some respects Religion is not so unknowable as Science. For our own, real or apparent, mind and free will do give us some kind of idea as to the existence of a personal being, apart from what he does; while of a natural force, such as gravity, apart from its effects, we can form no idea whatever. Thus our knowledge of every subject is but partial, and it finally leads us into the Unknowable. But now comes the important point. This partial knowledge, which is all we can obtain in either Science or Religion, is all we require. It is not a perfect knowledge, but it is sufficient for all practical purposes. Whatever the force of gravity may be in itself, we know what it is _to us_. We know that if we jump off a cliff we shall fall to the ground. And so in regard to Religion. Whatever God may be in Himself, we know what He is _to us_. We know that He is our Maker, and therefore, as will be shown in the next chapter, He is the Being to whom we are responsible. This is the practical knowledge which we require, and this is the knowledge which we can obtain. Moreover, though our reason may be to some extent unfit to judge of such matters, the vast importance of the subject seems to demand our coming to some conclusion one way or the other. This is especially the case because important results affecting a man's daily life follow from his deciding that there is a God, and to leave the question undecided is practically the same as deciding that there is not a God. In the same way, if a ship were in danger of sinking, and a steamer also in distress offered to take off the passengers, for one of them to say that he did not know whether it was safer to go in the steamer or not, and would therefore do nothing and stay where he was, would be practically the same as deciding not to go in the steamer. So in the case before us. To refuse to decide the question because of the supposed inadequacy of human reason is practically the same as to deny the existence of God. Still, it may be urged, granting that our reason must decide the question one way or the other, and granting that our reason seems to force us to conclude in the existence of God, are there not great difficulties in honestly believing this conclusion? No doubt there are, and no thoughtful man would think of ignoring them. But after all it is only a choice of difficulties; and, as we have shown, there is _less_ difficulty in believing what we have here maintained than the contrary. It is less difficult, for instance, to believe that the universe had an origin, than to believe that it had not. Similarly as to the existence of God; the theory is not free from difficulties, but, with all its difficulties, it is still by far the most probable theory to explain the origin and present state of the universe. We therefore decide, judging by reason alone (which is the line adopted in this Essay), that the existence of God is _extremely probable_. (_D._) SUMMARY OF ARGUMENT. In conclusion, we will repeat very briefly, the main line of argument thus far. To begin with, in the present universe we observe a succession of changes. If these changes are not recurring, which seems incredible, they must have had a commencement; and this is supported by the theories of Evolution and the Degradation of Energy. Therefore, as this commencement cannot have been a necessity, it must have been due to some _Free Force_. And a Free Force must be a _Supernatural_ Force, since natural forces are not free, but always act according to some fixed law, while the unity of nature points to its being a _Single_ Supernatural Force, which we called the Creator. Next, it follows that the Creator must have foreknown the consequences of His acts, judging by the marks of design which they present. And this conclusion was shown to be not inconsistent with either the process of evolution, or the existence of free will in man or other beings. Hence He must have been a _Personal Being_, possessing both Wisdom to design, and Power to accomplish. Or the whole argument may be repeated in an even shorter form. The universe (in its present condition) has not existed always, it is therefore an _effect_,--something that has been effected, or brought about somehow; and therefore like every effect, it must have had a _Cause_. Then since the effect shows a certain unity throughout, the Cause must have been One. Since the effect shows in some parts evidence of having been planned and arranged, the capacity for planning and arranging must have existed in the Cause. In other words, a universe showing marks of design is the effect, and nothing less than a Personal Being who designed it can be the Cause. And GOD is the name given to this Personal Being. CHAPTER IV. THAT MAN IS A FREE AND RESPONSIBLE BEING. (_A._) MAN'S MENTAL ATTRIBUTES. Man possesses a mind as well as a body; the opposite theory, materialism, has great difficulties. (_B._) MAN'S MORAL ATTRIBUTES. (1.) Man possesses a will. (2.) Man's acts are partly determined by his will. (3.) Man's will is _free_. (4.) Man knows that his will is free; and this enables him to design, and makes him a personal being. (5.) Man's _responsibility_ for his acts. (6.) Man's moral sense of right and wrong; which enables him to distinguish the quality of acts, and makes him a moral being. (7.) Man's conscience, by which he can judge of this quality in some cases. (_C._) DIFFERENCE BETWEEN ANIMALS AND MEN. There is a great mental difference, though probably only of degree; and entire moral difference, since animals, even if free, do not possess a _known_ freedom, and are hence not personal beings. (_D._) CONCLUSION. Man consists of three parts, body, mind, and spirit: his unique position. Having decided on the Existence of God, which is the great truth of _Natural_ Religion, the question now arises whether, if nature can lead us so far, there is no means of getting further. No one will deny that further knowledge is desirable, both as to God, ourselves, and our future destiny, and is there no means of obtaining it? And this brings us to the subject of _Revealed_ Religion, that is to say, of God's making some Revelation to man. And the probability of this will depend partly on the _character of man_--is he a being at all worthy of a revelation; and partly on the _Character of God_--is He a Being at all likely to make one? The former question alone will be discussed in this chapter, and we will consider man's _mental_ and _moral_ attributes separately. Nothing need be said about his bodily or _physical_ characteristics, as they have no bearing on the present argument. (_A._) MAN'S MENTAL ATTRIBUTES. By these are meant man's thoughts and feelings, and that they are different from the matter composing his body seems self-evident. Matter possesses size, weight, colour, shape, and hardness. Mind does not possess any of these. They have no conceivable meaning when applied to thoughts and feelings. Yet both mind and matter exist in man. We each feel conscious that we have something which _thinks_, and which we call mind; as well as something which _moves_, and which we call matter (_i.e._, our bodies); and that these are absolutely distinct from one another. And from the nature of the case this _inherent conviction_ is all we can appeal to. For mind, if it exists at all, being different from matter, is beyond the reach of ordinary scientific discovery. We cannot however be more certain of anything than of these inherent convictions, which form the basis of all our knowledge. Even the propositions of Euclid are only deductions from some other of our convictions, such as that the whole is greater than its part. Still the difficulty of understanding this compound nature in man, part mind and part body, has led some persons to adopt the theory of _materialism_. According to this there is no such thing as _mind_; what we call thoughts and feelings being merely complicated motions of the molecules of the brain. Now, that the mind and brain are closely associated together none will deny, but it does not follow that they are identical. The brain may be merely the instrument of the mind through which it acts. And though, as far as we know, the mind can never act without the brain, it may certainly have a separate existence, and possibly, under different conditions, may be able to act separately. It is in fact no more difficult to conceive of thought without a brain, than to conceive of thought with a brain. All we can say is, that within the range of our experience the two seem to be somehow connected together. Recent investigations, however, in what is called _telepathy_ (or thought-transference) seem to show that in some cases one mind can influence another _at a distance_, and without any material connection. And this (if admitted) proves that the mind is something more than a mere collection of particles of matter. Moreover materialism, to be consistent, must deny not only that man has a mind, but that he has anything immaterial at all; he must be matter in motion, and nothing else. But this is disproved by our _memory_, which convinces us that we are the _same_ persons now as we were ten years ago; yet we know that every particle of our bodies, including our brains, has changed in the interval. We must then have something immaterial which survives, in spite of everything material changing. The case, it should be noticed, is not like that of a tree, which may be popularly said to be the same now as it was ten years ago, though every particle of it has changed in the interval. For as far as we know, the tree has nothing which connects its present state with its former state, it has no memory of what happened to it then. We _have_, that is just the difference. We can remember now what happened to us ten years ago, though our bodies now do not contain a single atom or molecule which they did then. We must, therefore, have something else besides atoms and molecules, in other words, something _immaterial_; and if so, there is an end of materialism in its only logical form. This theory then cannot possibly be accepted, and we must abide by our inherent conviction that we have a mind as well as a body. This is an ultimate fact in human nature; and we are as certain of it as we are of anything, though like some other ultimate facts it has to be assumed, because it can be neither proved nor doubted. (_B._) MAN'S MORAL ATTRIBUTES. We pass on now to man's moral attributes, which we will consider in detail. (1.) _Man possesses a will._ In the first place man possesses what, in common language, is called a _will_. Strictly speaking, of course, the will is not anything independent of the man, which he _possesses_, as he might possess a dog; it is the man himself _who wills_, or who possesses the power of willing. But the common language is so generally understood, that it will be used here. Now the chief reason for believing that man has a will is his own inherent conviction. He feels certain that he does possess a will which is distinct from his body and his mind, though closely associated with both, and apparently to some extent controlling both. For example, I may resolve to raise my hand, and then do it; or I may resolve to think out a problem, and then do it. In each case the will is felt to be something distinct from the subsequent bodily or mental action. (2.) _Man's acts are partly determined by his will._ In the next place, a man's acts (and also his thoughts) are partly determined by his will. By this is meant that a man's will is able to move his limbs, so that, for instance, he can raise his hand when he wishes, and this gives him the power of determining his acts. It is not meant that a man's will can move his limbs directly; his limbs are moved by his muscles, which are directed by his nerves, and these by certain motions in the brain. All that the will can do is to give a particular direction to these motions, which, combined with various other forces, brings about the observed result. Now we have in favour of this action of the human will on the human body the universal experience of mankind, which is that a man can somehow or other move his limbs at pleasure. Indeed, the question whether a man can walk across the room when he wishes, seems to most people to admit of a convincing answer: _solvitur ambulando_. But still, the action of will on matter seems so improbable, and so difficult to understand, that attempts have naturally been made to find some other explanation. But no satisfactory one can be suggested. For my wishing to move my body, is followed by my moving it so frequently and so universally, that there must be some connection between them. And though we cannot imagine how a mere wish can move particles of matter (in the brain or anywhere else), it is just as hard to imagine how the movement of particles of matter can produce a wish. The latter theory is no easier to understand than the other; and, as just said, it is opposed to _the daily experience of mankind_, which is that a man's will can, somehow or other, move his limbs, and hence determine his acts. (3.) _Man's will is free._ It must next be noticed that man's will is a _free_ will, and this is a most important point. It is quite distinct from the previous question. Then we decided that a man's raising his hand, for instance, was the result of his wishing to do so. We have now to consider whether this wish was free on the man's part, or whether he could not help it; the latter view being called that of _Necessity_, or _Determinism_, and meaning that a man's acts are necessarily determined, and not free. Of course everyone admits that there are _limits_ to human freedom. A man cannot always raise his hand when he likes, it may be paralyzed. The important point is whether he is _ever_ free; and there are two main arguments on each side. Now the great argument in favour of free will is, again, our own inherent conviction. It is one of the most universal, and one of the most certain, beliefs of mankind that he has free will. This belief is forced upon him by his own daily experience. He feels, for instance, that he is free to raise his hand or not. And what is more, he can verify the fact by actually raising it, whenever he likes; so it is literally true to say that the conviction rests on the daily experience of the human race. And to many, this argument alone seems conclusive. But, as a matter of fact, it is fully confirmed by _human conduct_. For a man's conduct is _variable_ and quite unlike the uniformity which we find in chemistry and physics, where there is no free force, and everything is brought about in accordance with fixed laws. So we seem to require some free force in man to account for his variable conduct. These, then, are the two arguments in favour of free will--man's _inherent conviction_, confirmed by his _variable conduct_; and no more powerful arguments can be imagined. On the other hand, the chief argument against human freedom is that it would be an _anomaly_ in nature; since natural forces always act in the same way, and any free force, able to act or not as it likes, is quite unknown. If, then, man possesses such a force, no matter how limited it may be, he is partly, at least, a _supernatural_ being, not bound by fixed laws. Now all this may be admitted, but what then? Why should not man be a partly supernatural being? God, Who has made man, is Supernatural; He possesses free will, and He might, if He thought fit, bestow some of this attribute on man, allowing him, that is to say, within certain limits, to act in one way or another. No doubt, to persons who study physical science alone, the existence of any free force in man seems most improbable. But, on the other hand, to those who study the actions of men, such as barristers, soldiers, or politicians, the idea that man is a mere machine seems equally improbable. And does not the same principle apply in other cases? Suppose, for instance, that a man were to study inorganic chemistry alone, living on an island where vegetation was unknown, would not a tree be a complete anomaly to him? Yet trees exist and have to be allowed for. In the same way man's free will may be an anomaly, but the evidence for it is overwhelming. Moreover, the anomaly is greatly lessened by the fact that man already occupies a very anomalous position. For as we have seen, his acts are often determined by his _will_, and this is utterly unlike anything that we find elsewhere in nature. Indeed the _action_ of a will is as great an anomaly as its _freedom_; and with the possible exception of animals (see further on) we have no experience whatever of a will that can act and is _not_ free. Therefore claiming freedom for a man, is not like claiming freedom for a mineral, or a plant. He is anyhow a unique being, by far the highest and most important on this planet; and that he should be partly supernatural as well does not seem so very unlikely after all. We must also remember that we know more about ourselves where we are conscious of freedom, than we do about the surrounding universe, where we infer a rigid uniformity. Indeed, our own free will is the only force of which we have any _direct_ knowledge, and the so-called forces of nature, such as gravity, are, strictly speaking, only assumptions which we make to account for observed facts. And, as we have shown, even these forces seem to have originated in the Free Will of the Creator; so as far as we can judge, _free will_, of some kind is the ultimate cause of all force. The other important argument against free will is that it would be inconsistent with what is called the _Conservation of Energy_, since it is said any voluntary act would involve the creation of energy. But this is at least doubtful; for the will might be free as to its acts, were it only able to control energy without producing it. And it could do this if it possessed the power of altering either the time, or the direction of force; deciding, for instance, whether to raise my hand now, or a minute hence, or whether to raise my right hand or my left. And if it possessed either of these powers, it could turn the latent force, which a man possesses, into actual motion when and how it pleased. And it would thus be free as to its acts, without creating any energy at all. We therefore decide on reviewing the whole subject, that man's will is free; since this alone agrees with his own inherent _conviction_, and fully accounts for his variable _conduct_. While, on the other hand, though an _anomaly_ in nature, it is not on that account incredible; nor is it inconsistent with the _conservation of energy_. (4.) _Man knows that his will is free._ Having now decided that man's will is free, little need be said about the next point, which is that man _knows_ that his will is free, since, as we have shown, this is the chief argument for admitting its freedom. There are, however, many other arguments for proving that man believes that he has a free will, for it is shown by his acts. It is this known freedom which enables a man to set before him an end, and deliberately work towards it; in other words, it enables him to _design_, and makes him a _personal being_, as we have used the term. And it is needless to point out that the evidence of human design is universal. Again, human language affords a conclusive proof that man has always and everywhere believed himself to be free; for such terms as _I will_, _I choose_, _I decide_, exist in all languages. However, we need not pursue this subject, since it is undisputed that man _believes_ that he has a free will; and it is taken for granted in all human affairs. (5.) _Man's responsibility for his acts._ By this is meant that a man is responsible for the way in which he uses his freedom; and this seems to follow at once from his knowing that he is free. Moreover, a sense of responsibility is among the inherent convictions of mankind. Of course, there may be exceptions to this as to most other rules; but taking mankind as a whole, he certainly believes in his own responsibility. He also believes that this responsibility is in the first place to God, or some other supernatural Being. No doubt he is also responsible to his fellow-men, more especially to those among whom he is living; but a moment's reflection will show that this is not the leading idea. For a man must in the first place be responsible to his Maker rather than to his fellow-men. In the same way a child is first of all responsible to his parents, and then, secondly and consequently, to his brothers and sisters. Therefore, because God has made us, we are responsible to Him; and because He has placed us among other men, and presumably wishes us to take some part in human society, we are in a lesser degree responsible to them also. So the _brotherhood of man_, as it is called, naturally follows from the Fatherhood of God. (6.) _Man's moral sense of right and wrong._ In the next place, man has the remarkable faculty of distinguishing the _quality_ of acts which are free, regarding some as right and others as wrong, the latter being called _sins_. And it may be noticed in passing, that the existence of moral evil or sin seems to many to be an additional argument in favour of man's freedom; otherwise God would be the sole author of man's misdeeds. Of course, in this case, they would not be really _sins_, for if man has no free will, he is a mere machine, and can no more sin against God (or man either) than a watch can sin against its maker. Such a man might be imperfect, and so might a watch, but he could not be _wicked_; yet few will say that there are no wicked men in the world. Now we will call a being who is thus able to distinguish the quality of acts a _moral being_. Man is therefore a moral being, having this _moral sense_, as it is called, of distinguishing right from wrong. It will perhaps make the meaning of this moral sense plainer if we compare it with one of man's other senses, say that of sight. The one, then, distinguishes right from wrong, just as the other distinguishes red from yellow, or blue from green. And as man's sense of colours is not disproved by one man thinking a colour blue which another thinks green--or his sense of taste, by one man thinking a taste nice, which another thinks nasty--so his moral sense is not disproved by one man thinking an act right which another thinks wrong. Moreover this sense of right and wrong is quite distinct from the pleasant or unpleasant consequences which are associated with certain acts. For instance, I may avoid putting my hand into hot water, because I remember having done so before, and it was painful; but this is quite different from avoiding an act because it is _wrong_. It is also quite distinct from expediency, or the idea of benefiting by an act. For an act may not benefit us at all, or may even injure us, and yet it may be right. In short, 'fifty experiences of what is pleasant or what is profitable do not, and cannot, make one conviction of what is right'; the ideas differ in kind; and not merely in degree. (7.) _Man's conscience._ Lastly, as to man's conscience. This is often confused with his moral sense, but a little reflection will show that the two are distinct. For a man might possess a moral sense, and be able to classify acts as right or wrong, yet have no direct means of knowing to which class any particular act belonged. He might have to work this out by reasoning; and in difficult cases we sometimes do so. But as a rule this is unnecessary. For mankind possesses a very remarkable _something_, called a conscience, which tells him at once, and without either argument or reasoning, that certain acts are right and others wrong. Conscience is thus like an organ of the moral sense, and may be compared to the eye or organ of sight; for just as the eye perceives that certain colours are red and others blue, so conscience perceives that certain acts are right and others wrong. In each case the perception is almost instantaneous, and quite distinct from any kind of reasoning. Conscience, it will be noticed, does not _make_ the act right or wrong, any more than the eye makes the colour red or blue; it merely tells us what acts are right and what wrong. It is thus an _intermediary_ between Someone else and ourselves; and this Someone else can only be God, Who gave us our conscience, so that in popular language it may be called _the Voice of God_. And it tells us we ought to act right, because this is the way in which God wishes us to act. Now that mankind possesses a conscience is indisputable. It is shared alike by young and old, rich and poor, educated and uneducated. It has existed in all ages, countries and races. We all have it, and what is very remarkable it seems to be independent of our will, and not at our disposal. We do not correct it, but it corrects us; for it not only tells us what acts are right and what wrong, but it approves definitely of our doing the former, and disapproves just as definitely of our doing the latter. Indeed, one of the most striking effects of conscience is this feeling of _remorse_ or self-condemnation after wrong-doing; and such a feeling is practically universal. And if it be objected that one man's conscience may say that an act is right, which another man's conscience says is wrong, we must remember that the decision of a man's conscience, only refers to the man himself. It tells a man what is right _for him_, with his knowledge and surroundings, and it is quite possible that this may be wrong for another man. These, then, are the moral attributes of the human race, and it follows at once that man is a _free and responsible being_. But as this conclusion is often disputed, because of the similarity between animals and men, and the difficulty of admitting that they also are free and responsible beings, or else of showing where the distinction lies, we must examine this subject. (_C._) DIFFERENCE BETWEEN ANIMALS AND MEN. Now the _bodily_ difference between certain animals and men is admittedly small; and though the accompanying _mental_ difference is enormous, it is probably only one of degree; for all animals seem, to some slight extent, to possess a mind, which enables them at least to feel conscious of pleasure and pain. We must therefore pass on to the _moral_ attributes of animals; and as we know nothing as to their feelings on the subject, it is difficult to say (referring to the first three points) whether they have a _free will_ or not. Of course, if they have _not_, that would be a clear distinction between animals and men. But we have no right to assume this, and there is a good deal to be said on the other side, at least in regard to the higher animals, so the question had better be left open. But with regard to the next point, that of _known_ freedom, we are on surer ground; for the proof of man's _believing_ himself to be free does not depend solely on his own feelings. It is shown by his acts, as it enables him to _design_, and it is doubtful if there is anything corresponding to this in animals. For though many of their works show design somewhere, it does not seem to be due to _them_. This kind of unconscious designing (which strange to say is most apparent in the _lower_ forms of animal life) is called _instinct_, and there are at least three reasons for thinking that it differs from real design implying forethought. The first is, that, if these works were due to the design of the animals themselves, they must possess intellectual powers of a very high order. Take, for instance, the well known example of the _cells of bees_. These are built on the most perfect mathematical principles, the three rhombs which close the hexagonal columns having the exact angles so as to contain the greatest amount of honey, with the least expenditure of wax. And as we require advanced mathematics and a book of logarithms to work out such problems, it is hard to see how the bees can do it. Nor is heredity of any use, for the bees which build cells are all _workers_ (as they are called) and have no descendants; while those which have descendants are either _drones_ or _queens_, and these do no building. Thus the cells are built by bees, none of whose ancestors have ever built cells; so the design cannot be ascribed to anything they have inherited from their parents.[3] Secondly, animals are only able to design in a few special cases, and in other respects they often act with the greatest stupidity. A bee, for example, with all its mathematics, cannot very often, if it has flown in through an open window, retrace its way, but will buzz helplessly against another which is shut. [Footnote 3: Encyc. Brit., 9th edit., vol. iii., pp. 490, 484. The angles are 109° 28' and 70° 32'.] Thirdly, the instincts of animals are practically the same, always and everywhere. They are not more advanced in some countries, than in others; or in some individuals, than in others. They are not even more advanced as time goes on. The last cell built by a bee is no better than the first, and no better, as far as we know, than cells built by bees thousands of years ago; while the young of animals, without any experience to guide them, have the same instincts as the old. Clearly, then, an animal's instinct is born with it, and not acquired; and therefore, any apparent design there may be in what is done by instinct cannot be attributed to the animal itself, any more than the design shown in its eyes, but to its Maker. So far all is plain. It may, however, be urged that in some of the higher animals, especially those in contact with man, we do find certain acts which seem to imply forethought and design. A dog, for example, will bury a bone one day, and go and look for it the next. But when once it is admitted that what are apparently far more striking instances of design are to be explained by instinct, it seems better to explain them all in the same way. And this is confirmed by the fact that even the higher animals do not appear to have any idea of _responsibility_, or any sense of _right_ and _wrong_, which in man are the result of his known freedom. Of course, this also may be disputed, since as we punish a dog for doing what we dislike, it looks as if we held it responsible for the act. But this does not follow. We punish the dog to prevent its repeating the act. And it may avoid doing so, because its memory associates the act with _pain_, and not because it feels responsible for it, or considers it to be _wrong_. While in the vast majority of cases we never think of holding an animal responsible for its acts, or look upon its injuring anyone as a sin. We conclude, then, that _moral_ attributes form the great distinction between animals and men; because though animals have, or may have, a free will, it is not a _known_ freedom, so they are not able, like men, to _design_, and are hence not _personal beings_. Two further remarks may be made before leaving this subject. The first is, that though there are difficulties in placing this known freedom as the difference between animals and men, there are as great, if not greater, difficulties in placing it anywhere else. If we say that an ape or a dog can design, the difficulty is not lessened; it is merely transferred lower down the scale. Can a jellyfish design? The momentous attribute of known freedom must begin _somewhere_; and it seems less difficult to place it between animals and men than anywhere else. The second and more important point is, that our ignorance about animals is no reason for doubting what we do know about man. To do this would be most illogical. Indeed, we might as well deny that a man could see, or hear, because there are difficulties in deciding where sight and hearing commence in the scale of animal life. (_D._) CONCLUSION. We may now conclude this chapter. With regard to man, it is clear that his bodily, mental, and moral attributes are quite distinct. A man may be strong in body, yet of weak intellectual power; or he may have a great intellect, yet be of weak moral character. This makes it probable that human nature consists of three parts--_body_, _mind_, and _spirit_; the mind corresponding to the mental reasoning part of man, and the spirit to the free moral part, the word _soul_ being often used for either of these latter. And the difference between animals and men is probably that the former have no _spirits_, but only bodies and (undeveloped) minds. All life on this planet would then form three great groups--_vegetation_, consisting of matter alone; _animals_, of matter and mind; _man_, of matter, mind, and spirit. And from this it seems to follow that while a man's _body_ may (conceivably) have been evolved from any other form of matter, and his _mind_ from any other form of mind, yet his _spirit_ is essentially distinct, and cannot have been evolved from anything else. Moreover, as a man's body and mind are both (to some extent) under the known control of his free will, or spirit, this latter must be looked upon as his real _self_. Thus he is not, strictly speaking, an organism at all, but a free being served by organs both of body and mind. They are _his_; they do not constitute _him_. He is the personal being, who controls both. In other words man _is_ a spirit, and _has_ a body and mind. And our present conclusion is quite plain. We have shown that man is a _free_ being, his freedom distinguishing him from natural forces, and making him in part supernatural. And he is a _responsible_ being, his responsibility being due to his known freedom, and distinguishing him from animals. He has thus a unique position. Nothing else on this planet resembles him, and in his attribute of known freedom which enables him to design, and makes him a _personal being_, he resembles God alone. CHAPTER V. THAT GOD TAKES AN INTEREST IN MAN'S WELFARE. (_A._) THE EVIDENCE IN ITS FAVOUR. Since God is a _Moral_ as well as a Personal Being, He must be capable of caring for all His creatures; and we have abundant evidence that He does so, especially for man. But there are two great difficulties. (_B._) THE INSIGNIFICANCE OF MAN. (1.) Some counter-arguments, showing that even if insignificant, God might still care for him. (2.) Man's real importance, due to his mind and spirit. (3.) The supposed inhabitants of other planets. (_C._) THE EXISTENCE OF EVIL. (1.) Physical evil in animals. The objection that it is vast in amount, wholly unmerited, and perfectly useless, cannot be maintained. (2.) Physical evil in man. Several ways of lessening the difficulty. Its explanation seems to be that God's designing evil does not mean His desiring it, as it is essential for forming a man's character. (3.) Moral evil in man. The possibility of this is essential to free will; and wicked men are as necessary as any other form of evil. (_D._) CONCLUSION. God's _Goodness_ includes Beneficence and Righteousness. Having discussed in the last chapter the character of man, we have next to consider, as far as we have any means of doing so, _the Character of God_; more especially whether He seems to take any interest in man's welfare. And we will first examine the evidence in favour of this; then the two arguments on the other side from the insignificance of man, and the existence of evil; and will conclude by considering in what sense the term _Goodness_ can be ascribed to God. (_A._) THE EVIDENCE IN ITS FAVOUR. To begin with, God is certainly capable of taking an interest in man's welfare, for He is not only a Personal Being, but also a Moral Being. This follows at once from what may be called the _moral argument_ for the Existence of God, or that depending on man's free will. It is briefly this, that no combination of natural forces, which are uniform and always act the same under the same circumstances, can ever produce a _free_ force, able to act or not as it likes. The idea seems inconceivable. If, then, man possesses such a force, which we have already admitted, it cannot have come from any natural forces, nor can it have made itself, so it must have been derived from some _previous_ free force, and this, again, from a previous one, and so on till we finally arrive at a _Free Force_, which was _not_ derived from any other, but which existed eternally. And this, it will be remembered, was precisely the conclusion we reached in Chapter I., though from quite a different argument. And then it follows that this Free Force, or Free Being, must know that He is free; and must therefore be a _moral_ Being, able to distinguish the quality of acts as right or wrong. Indeed, the mere fact that man possesses this remarkable faculty makes it certain that man's Maker must possess it too. Now a personal and moral God must clearly be able to take an interest in the welfare of His creatures; and there is abundant evidence that He actually does so. For everywhere in nature, and especially in man, we meet with marks, not only of design, but of _beneficent_ design--that is to say of design tending to the welfare and happiness of the beings in question. Take, for instance, the human eye, which we considered in Chapter II. Everyone will admit that this conduces very greatly to man's happiness; and therefore the conclusion that God, when He designed the eye, did so with the object of benefiting man seems irresistible. Nor is this altered by the fact that the eye has a few defects, in being liable to various kinds of disease. For no one can think that it was made for the sake of these defects. It was evidently made to see, and not to ache. That it does ache now and then is in all probability due to its being such a complicated instrument; and perhaps also to its being often used too much. But it may be said, beneficial organs like the eye, though they abound throughout nature, are not the only ones we meet with. There are others, like the claws and teeth of wild animals, which are just the opposite, and seem designed to give pain to other creatures. But this is quite untenable. They were plainly designed to enable the animal to secure its food, and are perhaps necessary for that purpose, and they all tend to the welfare of their possessor, and sometimes also to that of their victim, as it hastens death. There is not, in fact, a single organ in nature the _object_ of which is to produce pain. Where pain is produced it is merely a sort of _by-product_. Thus far then, we are quite justified in concluding that God takes an interest in man's welfare. But there are two great difficulties. (_B._) THE INSIGNIFICANCE OF MAN. The first is from the apparent _insignificance_ of man. For though he is doubtless by far the most important being on this planet, and endowed with some of the Divine attributes, yet, after all how utterly insignificant he is in comparison with his Maker. This is no new difficulty,[4] but modern science has increased its force by showing that our earth is only one among the planets which go round the sun, while the sun itself is only one among many millions of stars. And, we may ask, is it likely that the God Who rules these millions of stars should take any interest in the beings on a small planet like our earth? [Footnote 4: Ps. 8. 3, 4.] This is the difficulty we have to face; but a good deal depends on the way in which it is stated. Would it not be better to argue from the known to the unknown, and ask--Is it likely that the God Who has made this earth, and Who we know (from the marks of design) takes an interest in its inhabitants, should be _also_ the Ruler of the distant stars? And when so stated, the unity of nature compels us to say that it is not only likely, but practically certain. However, we will discuss the subject more in detail, first considering some counter-arguments, which show that even if man were insignificant God might still care for him; then man's real importance; and lastly, the question of other planets being inhabited. (1.) _Some Counter-arguments._ To begin with, though it seems unlikely that God should take any interest in such insignificant beings as us men, it also seems unlikely that He should ever have designed and created such beings. Yet He has done so. And having created them, there is at most only a slight _additional_ improbability, if any at all, that He should take an interest in their welfare. And this is especially the case when we remember that man is not only the highest and noblest being on this planet, but as far as we know on any planet. Therefore though we may be quite unworthy of God's care, we do not know of any other being who is more worthy of it. And it is most unlikely that a Creator would not take an interest in _any_ of His works. Next, as to the analogy of nature. Here we find nothing resembling a neglect of small things. On the contrary, everything, down to the minutest insect, seems finished with as much perfection as if it alone existed in the universe. And this is surely what we should expect. For true greatness does not exist in despising that which is small; and it may be a very part of God's infinite greatness that nothing should be too small for Him to care about, just as nothing is too large. And while a Being, Who can govern the universe, and attend to its millions of stars, is no doubt great--inconceivably great; yet He is surely greater still--_inconceivably greater_--if He can _also_ attend to our little planet, and its inhabitants; and can do this so thoroughly, as not only to take an interest in the human race, but in the welfare of each one of its members. And the whole analogy of nature is in favour of His doing so; for the forces of nature never deal with matter in bulk, but with each particle separately. A stone, for instance, is attracted to the ground, because, and only because, each particle of it is so attracted. In the same way if God takes an interest in the human race (and, as just said, it is hard to imagine His not doing so, since it is His noblest work) it may be because, and only because, He takes an interest in each individual member of it. Thirdly, the difficulty of thus believing that God takes an interest in the daily life of an individual man, though undoubtedly great, is really no more than that of believing that He knows about it. For if He knows about it, why should He not care about it? Yet, as said in Chapter II., a world like ours cannot have been made without both knowledge, and foreknowledge, on the part of its Maker. And though we might at first be inclined to limit this to important matters, a little consideration will show that such a distinction is untenable; and that if God knows anything, He knows everything. And if He knows everything, why should He not care about everything? Fourthly, and this is very important, whether we are insignificant or not, we are each of us _unique_. We are not like particles of matter. Millions of these are (or may be) exactly alike, but no two _men_ are exactly alike; not even to the same extent as plants and animals. For each man is a separate spirit, a _personal being_ distinct from all else in the world. And since he possesses a free will, his character is also distinct; for this depends to a large extent on how he uses his free will, what he says, and what he does, day by day. So it is out of the question to think that any two men are exactly alike. And this is the common belief of mankind, for however much we may think other people alike, we each feel sure that there is no one else in the world exactly like _ourselves_. Nor can there be. For though God might, if He chose, make two trees exactly alike, or two men exactly alike in their external features, He could not make them alike _in their character_. For this, as just said, depends on their own free use of their own free will; and if God were to force them to decide in the same way, they would cease to be free. And from this it follows that each man is not only unique, but _irreplaceable_. No other can be made like him. Therefore, as we each have something special about us, God may take a _special_ interest in each of us. Doubtless such an idea seems very wonderful; but no one who has any knowledge of the marvels of nature will think it, on that account, incredible. Indeed, from one point of view, it is only what we should expect. For we all know how a naturalist will value a unique specimen, which cannot be replaced, in spite of its having some defects. And if each man is really _unique_, and _irreplaceable_, why may not the God of Nature value him too (in spite of his faults), and take an interest in his welfare? Then, fifthly, as to the discoveries of science, there is here also a good deal to be said on the other side. For though the telescope has shown us that our world is like a mere drop in the ocean, the microscope has shown us a new world in each drop; and the _infinitely little_, as it is called, is as wonderful as the infinitely great, and man still occupies a sort of central position. When, for instance, we examine a single organ, say the human eye, we find that it consists of an immense number of parts, each of which is seen to be more and more complicated the more we are able to magnify it, and so on without apparently any limit. And this makes it more than ever likely that the God, Who has shown such marvellous skill in the various organs of a man's body, should care for the man himself, the personal and moral being, who possesses these organs. Nor is the argument weakened by the fact that the organs of animals also show a wonderful amount of design, for as far as we know, in their case, there is no personal and moral being to care about. Again, science has not only shown us the _magnitude_ of the universe, and that there are millions of stars, millions of miles apart, but it has also shown us its _unity_, and that all its parts are closely connected together. And certainly the idea that the God, Who rules these stars, should take an interest in us men, is no harder to believe than that the gases, which are burning in these stars, should influence our spectroscopes. Yet they do; so if this were all, it would still lessen the difficulty a good deal. (2.) _Man's real importance._ But this is not all, for science has also taught us a great deal about man himself, and his long development; which has a most important bearing on the argument. For we now know that our earth has existed for thousands of centuries, gradually evolving higher and higher forms of life, all leading up to _man_, who is the heir of all the ages, the inheritor of all that is useful and best in his long line of ancestors. And (what is very important) organic evolution seems obliged to stop here. Man is not merely a link in a series leading on to still more perfect beings, but he is the _end_ of the series. In all probability there will never be a higher being on the earth, for the causes which have produced his evolution thus far, can carry it no further. When, for instance, man acquired an erect position, there was an end to any further improvement in that respect. When he took to wearing clothes, there was an end to the body becoming hardier and stronger through exposure. When he took to using weapons and inventing machinery, mere physical strength was no longer essential, and could no longer be increased. In short, when Evolution began to take a _mental_ turn, there was an end to bodily development. Henceforth there was to be no evolution of any higher being, but rather the gradual perfecting of this one being, by mental and moral, and not physical improvements. Man is thus not only the highest being that ever has been evolved, but, as far as we can judge, the highest being that ever will be evolved on this earth. So the vast scheme of evolution, inconceivable alike in magnitude, in duration, and in complexity, is all seen to be one plan, with _man_ apparently at the end of it. And consequently, as everything was designed by God, he must have been the foreknown and intended end, from the very beginning; the first thought in creation, as well as the last. And when we thus regard man as the goal towards which nature has all along tended, and therefore as the _chief_ object which God--the Author of Nature--had in view all the time, it seems to increase his importance tenfold; and shows conclusively that in God's sight he must be anything but insignificant. Nor is it difficult to suggest a reason for this. For man, as we know, has a _mind_, as well as a body; and though the discoveries of science have in some respects lessened the importance of his _body_, by showing its evolution from other animals; they have at the same time increased that of his _mind_, for it is his mind that has discovered them. And every fresh discovery man makes can only exalt him still higher for making it; so that the mind of man now shows him to be a far nobler being than could possibly have been imagined some centuries ago. And certainly, a mind that can discover the motions of distant stars, and the elements of which they are composed, cannot be thought insignificant. In fact, in one respect man is greater than any of the stars; for he can think about them, but they cannot think about him. Moreover, man has not only a mind, but also a _spirit_, or free will, able to act right or wrong. And even his acting _wrong_, however sad it may be in other respects, is a powerful witness to his greatness; for who but a great being could act in opposition to the will of the Almighty? But then; if his acting _wrong_ proves his greatness, still more does his acting _right_. Indeed (if we were not so far from it ourselves) we should probably see that moral perfection, or _always_ acting right, though one might act wrong, is the noblest thing in the whole universe; and as far above mental greatness, as this latter is above mere physical strength. But though _we_ cannot properly appreciate it, God can. He is Himself a Spirit, and therefore, in His sight, a man possessing a mind and spirit, and thus made to some extent in His own image, and capable of developing moral perfection, may be of more value (because more like Himself) than a universe of dead matter. In the same way (to quote a well-known analogy) a king will value his child more than his palace: for the simple reason that the child is more like himself. Thus _persons_ are always more valuable than _things_. And they are _incomparably_ more valuable, for they have nothing in common by which they can be compared. We cannot class an astronomer with his telescopes, or say that one geologist is worth so many fossils, or one bricklayer so many bricks. And this being so, what shall we say of the millions of men who have lived, and are now living, on this earth? Surely _their_ welfare cannot be thought insignificant by anyone, least of all by their Creator. (3.) _The supposed inhabitants of other planets._ But it may be said, what about other planets? Are not some of these inhabited, and does not this weaken the argument a good deal, and show that God cannot take any special interest in man, or other beings on this earth? Now there is, of course, no reason why God should take any _special_ interest in the beings on this planet, more than in similar beings on other planets, if such exist; but this is very doubtful. For modern science has shown that not only are the same _materials_ found in the other planets (and also in the fixed stars) as are found here; but that _natural laws_, such as those of gravity, light, and heat, are the same throughout the entire universe. And this makes it probable that the laws of life are also the same; so that if living beings exist on other planets, we should expect them to be somewhat similar to the living beings here; and to have been evolved in a somewhat similar manner. And this requires that a large number of favourable circumstances, such as a moderate temperature, a suitable atmosphere, sufficient water, etc., should all be found on some other planet, not only now, but during the long ages which (judging by this earth) appear necessary for the development of the higher forms of life; and this certainly seems unlikely. On the other hand, it is difficult to believe that God would create an immense number of suns or stars, many of which have probably planets round them, if only one out of the whole series was to be inhabited by personal beings. But however strange this may seem to us, it entirely agrees with God's methods in nature, where what seems to be needless waste is the universal rule. So this is not an insuperable difficulty. The question, however, may well be left open, for even if other planets are inhabited, there is no reason why God should not take an interest--and perhaps a great interest--in their inhabitants, as well as in ourselves; since all His capacities are boundless, and even the smallest part of _infinity_ may be very large. (_C._) THE EXISTENCE OF EVIL. We now come to the other, and perhaps more important, difficulty--that arising from the _existence of evil_. This term in its widest sense includes both _pain_, which affects a man's body; _sorrow_, which affects his mind; and _sin_, which affects his spirit. The two former may be called _physical evil_, and apply also to animals; while the latter is _moral evil_, and applies only to man. And as the world is full of pain, sorrow, and sin, one may naturally ask how could it have been designed and created by a God Who cares for the welfare of His creatures? Or, to put the objection in other words, does not the existence of this evil show that God either could not or would not prevent it? If He _could_ not, he is not All-Powerful; if He _would_ not, He is not All-Good. This is an undoubted difficulty; and we will examine it in detail, both as it affects animals and men. (1.) _Physical evil in animals._ The objection here is that animals of all kinds suffer a vast _amount_ of pain and misery, which is wholly _unmerited_ and perfectly _useless_; since, having no moral nature, they can neither deserve pain nor profit by it. We will consider these points in turn. And first, as to the _amount_ which animals suffer. One animal does not suffer more because a million suffer likewise, so we must consider the suffering as it affects the individual, and not the _total_ amount. And as to its extent we know but little. That animals appear to suffer greatly, _e.g._, a mouse being caught by a cat, is obvious; but how far they really suffer is doubtful, as their feelings are probably far less sensitive than those of man; so it is quite misleading to think what we should feel like in similar circumstances. This is indeed evident when we reflect that suffering is connected with the brain, as is shown by the fact that savages suffer much less than civilised nations. And therefore we should expect animals, whose mental development is far less advanced, to suffer still less; while the lower forms of life we should not expect to suffer at all. And this is confirmed by observation, as several facts have been noticed which almost force us to this conclusion. A crab, for instance, will continue to eat, and apparently relish, a smaller crab, while being itself slowly devoured by a larger one; and this shows that the crab can feel scarcely any pain, since the almost universal effect of pain is to destroy the pleasure of eating. And many other instances are known.[5] [Footnote 5: Transactions of Victoria Institute, vol. xxv., 1891, p. 257.] Moreover, animals, except domestic ones which are partly trained and civilised, appear to have no anticipation of suffering, and no power of concentrating their thoughts upon it, which increases it so greatly in man. And assuming, with reference to the above example, that the mouse is not to live for ever, its being destroyed by a cat is at most a very short misery, and perhaps involving altogether less pain than if it died from disease or old age. Indeed few things could be worse than for old and weak animals to be left to themselves, and gradually die of starvation. And we must remember, in a state of nature, with uncertain meals the cat would never _play_ at capturing the mouse, thus giving it needless and repeated sufferings, but it would kill it at once. Then as to the so-called _struggle for existence_. It is nothing like what is commonly supposed, as has been recognised by leading naturalists. Thus _Darwin_ says:--'When we reflect on this struggle we may console ourselves with the full belief that the war of nature is not incessant, that no fear is felt, that death is generally prompt, and that the vigorous, the healthy, and the happy survive and multiply.' And _Wallace_ says:--'The popular idea of the struggle for existence entailing misery and pain on the animal world is the very reverse of the truth. What it really brings about is the maximum of life, and of the enjoyment of life, with the minimum of suffering and pain.'[6] On the whole, then, it seems probable that pain among animals is far less than is commonly assumed, and in the lower forms of life almost entirely absent. [Footnote 6: C. Darwin. Origin of Species. 6th edit., 1888, p. 96. A. R. Wallace. Darwinism, 1889, p. 40.] Still it may be said, this only lessens the difficulty; for why should animals suffer pain at all? As far as we can judge, it is wholly _unmerited_, since, having no moral nature, and therefore no responsibility, they cannot have done anything wrong to deserve it. But then, the pleasure which they enjoy is also unmerited. The two must in all fairness be taken together, and as a matter of fact, animals seem to have a much greater amount of pleasure than of pain. Their life (except when ill-treated by man) is, as a rule, one of continual enjoyment, and probably, at any given moment, the number of animals of any particular kind that are happy is incomparably greater than those that are miserable. In short, health and happiness is the rule, sickness and pain the exception. Nor can it be said that pain is _useless_ to animals; for though they have no moral nature to be improved, they have a physical nature to be preserved and transmitted, and the sense of pain may be essential for this. It is indeed a kind of sentry, warning them of dangers, which might otherwise lead to their destruction. If for example, animals felt no pain from excessive heat, they might not escape when a forest was burning; or, if they felt no pain from hunger, they might die of starvation. Thus pain is, in reality, a _preservative of life_; and it is often not an evil at all; so no part of this objection can be maintained. (2.) _Physical evil in man._ We now pass on to the case of man. There is unfortunately no doubt about the suffering which he endures. The struggling lives, the painful diseases, the lingering deaths, not to mention accidents of all kinds, are but too evident. And we may ask, would an Omnipotent God, Who cared for man's welfare, have ever designed all this? Now it is important to remember that a great deal of physical evil originates in _moral_ evil, which will be considered later on. By far the greater part of the pain and misery which men endure is brought about by their own wickedness and folly, or by that of their fellow-men. The recent war--worse in _extent_, though not worse in kind, than all previous wars--has been a terrible example of this. But it was man's doing, not God's; and man alone must be blamed for it. In the next place, many of the so-called evils of life do not involve any actual suffering. If for instance a man loses the sight of one eye, he need not have any pain; and were he originally blind the possession of even one eye would have been thought a priceless blessing. Again, however great may be the sufferings of life, they cannot be as great as its _joys_, since nearly everyone wishes to go on living. While it is undeniable that human pain, like that of animals, is most useful, serving to warn men of dangers and diseases, which would otherwise lead to their destruction. Moreover, in a material world like ours, if the forces of nature act according to fixed laws, a certain amount of suffering seems _inevitable_. If, for example, the force of gravity always acts as it does, it will occasionally cause a tower to fall and injure someone. Such an event could only be avoided by God's continually interfering with these forces. But this would render all human life a hopeless confusion. While, at present, owing to these forces being invariable, a great deal of the evil which might otherwise result from them can be foreseen and avoided. If, however, men will not avoid it,--if, for instance, in spite of the numerous eruptions of Vesuvius, they still choose to go and live on its slopes,--it is hard to see how they can blame anyone but themselves. In the same way, if a man chooses to sit on the safety valve of an engine, it is his own fault if he gets blown up. And even in other cases, when the evil cannot be foreseen, as in an unexpected earthquake, it is at least open to doubt whether it is any worse for a number of men to die like this, suddenly and together, than that they should all die in the usual way, slowly, one by one, and often after a long illness. It of course appeals more to the imagination, but it probably involves less suffering. Thus we may say that human suffering, excluding that due to man himself, is by no means so great as it seems; that it is, as a rule, more than counter-balanced by human happiness; and that a certain amount seems not only useful, but in a world like ours inevitable. But though all these considerations are undoubtedly true, and undoubtedly lessen the difficulty, they do not remove it altogether. The following appears to be the true explanation: that though God foreknew all this suffering when He created the world, and in this sense _designed_ it, He need not have _desired_ it, but may have desired something else, for the attainment of which, this suffering was a necessary condition. And this _something else_ must obviously have been the training and perfecting of man's character; for which, some kind of suffering seems essential. For if there were no suffering in the world, there could be no fortitude, no bravery, no patience, no compassion, no sympathy with others, no self-sacrifice for their good--nothing, in fact, that constitutes the highest type of man. In other words, a being such as man, can only be made perfect through suffering. Therefore this suffering implies no defect in God's design. It is a means, and, as far as we can judge, the only possible means for developing the highest and noblest character in man, such a character indeed as alone makes him worthy of admiration. Moreover, a man's character can only be formed by himself, it cannot be given him ready-made, for then it would not be _his_ character at all; and it can only be formed gradually, it cannot be done all at once. Therefore, if God wishes a man to have the special character acquired by constantly bearing suffering, it can only be obtained by constantly giving him suffering to bear. Here, then, we have the most probable explanation of the physical evils which man endures. Their object is to develop and perfect his character; and as this is a good object, and as it cannot be obtained in any other way, they may well have been designed by a good God. (3.) _Moral evil in man._ But we now come to the most difficult part of the subject, the existence of _moral evil_ in man. This, as before said, is the chief cause of human misery, and might it not have been avoided? In other words, could not all _sin_ have been excluded from the world? But assuming man to be a _free being_, it could not have been avoided, for freedom is always liable to abuse. Therefore, if God decided that man was to be free in some cases to act right or wrong, it necessarily follows that he may act wrong. No Omnipotence could possibly alter this without destroying man's freedom. Hence, though God designed all the moral evil in the world, He need not have desired it, but (as before) may have desired some totally different object, for the attainment of which, this evil was a necessary condition. Nor, again, is it difficult to suggest what this object may have been. For unless man is a free being, he can be little better than a machine--a correctly-behaved machine, no doubt, and one able to talk and think, but still only a machine. And God may not have wished that man, who is, as far as we know, His highest and noblest work, should be only a machine. Indeed, the superiority of free men who act right, though they might act wrong, to mere machines is obvious to everyone; and it may far outweigh the disadvantage that some of them should act wrong. Therefore, though we have to pay dearly for freedom, it is well worth the price; and the _infinite value of goodness_, as it is called, may justify, though nothing else could, the risks involved in giving man a free will. Nor is there anything unlikely in the Creator thus caring about the conduct of His creatures. We certainly should not admire an earthly ruler who regarded traitors to his cause, and his most faithful adherents with the same indifference; or an earthly parent who did not care whether his children obeyed him or not. Why, then, should we think that God, Who has not only given us free will, but also a conscience by which to know what is right (_i.e._, what is _His_ will), should yet be indifferent as to whether we do it or not? Everything points the other way, that God, Who is a Moral Being, and Who has made us moral beings also, wishes us to freely act right. Therefore He allows us to act wrong, with all the misery it involves, in order to render possible our thus freely choosing to act right. Or to put the argument in other words, a free being is far higher than a being who is not free, and yet a free being cannot exist without the possibility of his acting wrong. So, however strange the conclusion appears, moral evil, or at least its possibility, is essential to the universe, if it is to be worthy of its Creator, if, that is, it is to contain beings of the highest order--_persons_ and not _things_. Or, to put it still shorter, if God is good, it is only natural that He should create beings capable of goodness, and therefore of necessity capable of badness, for the two must go together. And if it be still urged that, as God foreknew how men would use their freedom, He need not have created those who would habitually use it wrongly; in other words, there might be no _wicked men_ in the world, the answer is obvious. Wicked men are as necessary as any other form of evil to test a man's character, and to develop moral perfection. For just as physical evil, pain, suffering, etc., can alone render possible certain physical virtues, such as fortitude and patience; so moral evil, or sin, can alone render possible certain moral virtues. If, for instance, there were no sin in the world there could be no forbearance with the faults of others, no moral courage in standing alone for an unpopular cause, no forgiveness of injuries, nor (what is perhaps the highest of all virtues) any rendering good for evil. These require not merely the possibility, but the actual existence of sin, and they would all be unattainable if we had nothing but physical evils to contend with, and there were only good men in the world. The case then stands thus. Evil men are essential to an evil world. An evil world is essential to proving a man's character. Proving a man's character is essential to his freely choosing to serve God; and his freely choosing to serve God seems essential to his being such a servant as God would care to have. One other point should be noticed before we conclude. It is that with regard to the conduct of free beings, _foreknowing_ is not the same as _foreordaining_. God may have foreknown how a man would use or misuse his freedom, but without foreordaining or compelling him to do either. In the same way, in human affairs it is possible in some cases, and to some extent, to foreknow what a man will do, but without in any way compelling him to do it. This is a most important distinction, and we have no reason for thinking that God foreordained any man to misuse his freedom, though He may have foreknown that he would do so.[7] [Footnote 7: Of course if God creates a man, _foreknowing_ how he will act, He may, in a certain sense, be said to _foreordain_ it as well; compare Rom. 8. 29. "Whom He foreknew, He also foreordained."] (_D._) CONCLUSION. We may now sum up the argument in this chapter. We first showed that God is not only able to take an interest in man's welfare; but that the marks of beneficent design afford abundant evidence that He actually does so. On the other hand, the so-called _insignificance of man_ is more apparent than real, since his position at the end of evolution shows his great importance; while his mind and spirit fully account for this, and prove him to be an altogether unique being, certainly in regard to this earth, and perhaps in regard to the universe. And as to the _existence of evil_, it is undeniable that God must have foreknown all the evil in the world when He created it; and in this sense He designed it. But He may also have foreknown that it is only temporary, and that it will lead to a more than compensating permanent good, which could not be obtained in any other way. For the evils in this world need not be _ends_, but may be only _means_ to ends; and, for all we know, they may be the very best means for obtaining the very best ends. Indeed, as before said, they seem to be not only the best, but the only possible means for developing all that is highest and noblest in man. We conclude, then, that though God designed both the evil and the good in the world, He need not have desired both: and there are indications in nature sufficient to show that the good is what He desired, and the evil is only its inevitable companion. This conclusion is often expressed by saying that _Goodness_ is an attribute of God; and the word may certainly be admitted. Indeed if God is not _good_, He has made a being, in this respect, nobler than Himself; since some men, in spite of their faults, are undoubtedly good. But it is important to notice the sense in which the word is used, and in which alone it is true. By God's _goodness_, then, or by His taking an interest in man's welfare, is not meant a mere universal beneficence, or wishing to make everyone as happy as possible, without regard to his conduct. The existence of evil seems fatal to such a theory as this. But rather God wishes to promote man's welfare in the truest and best way, not by giving him everything he likes, but by training and developing his character. God is thus not only _beneficent_, but _righteous_ also. And He therefore wishes man to be not only happy, but righteous also. And He therefore of necessity (as a man cannot be made righteous against his will) gives him _free_ will, with the option of being unrighteous, and consequently unhappy. So this view of God's character, combining beneficence with righteousness, not only accounts for the marks of beneficent design all through nature, but also for the existence of evil, especially moral evil, in man, and seems the only way of reconciling them. In short, beneficence and righteousness are both good, and the Goodness of God includes both. Now if we admit that goodness is an attribute of God, the analogy from His other attributes would show that He possesses it in its highest perfection. He is thus a Being not only of infinite _Power_ and _Wisdom_, but also of perfect _Goodness_--the word 'perfect' being obviously more suitable for a moral quality like goodness, than 'infinite' would be. And it will be noticed that these three great attributes of God correspond to the three chief arguments for His existence. The first, or that from the universe requiring an adequate Cause, proves an All-Powerful Creator; the second, or that from its having been designed, proves that He is All-Wise; and the third, or that from human nature, proves that He is All-Good. They also correspond to some extent to the three aspects under which we considered man's character in the last chapter; so we arrive at the grand conclusion that God is physically _All-Powerful_, mentally _All-Wise_, and morally _All-Good_. CHAPTER VI. THAT GOD MIGHT MAKE SOME REVELATION TO MAN. This depends chiefly on man's future destiny. (_A._) THE IMMORTALITY OF MAN. By this is meant the personal immortality of man's spirit, and there are four chief arguments in its favour: (1.) From his unique position. (2.) From his unjust treatment. (3.) From his vast capabilities. (4.) From his inherent belief. (5.) Counter-arguments. (_B._) THE PROBABILITY OF A REVELATION. (1.) From God's character; since He would be likely to benefit man. (2.) From man's character; since he desires it, and his unique position makes him not altogether unworthy of it. (3.) Two difficulties: a revelation is said to be unjust, if only given to certain men; and anyhow incredible unless quite convincing. But neither of these can be maintained. We decided in the last two chapters that man is a free and responsible being, and that God takes an interest in his welfare. We now come to the subject of a _Revelation_, by which is meant any superhuman knowledge directly imparted by God to man. And by _superhuman_ knowledge is meant any knowledge which man could not obtain for himself; such as God's object in creating him, His wishes in regard to his conduct, or any past or future events of which he would otherwise be ignorant. And that God could, if He chose, impart such knowledge, either by visions, or dreams, or in some other way, can scarcely be disputed. Nor will anyone affirm (least of all an Agnostic) that we know enough about God to be quite sure that He never would choose to do so. Therefore a revelation is certainly _possible_; but is it at all _probable_? This is what we have to examine. And as the answer to it will depend to a great extent on man's future destiny, we will first consider the question of his _Immortality_, and then the probability, or otherwise, of God's making a _Revelation_ to him. (_A._) THE IMMORTALITY OF MAN. By this is meant the immortality of man's _spirit_. And if we admit (as was admitted in Chapter IV.) that man is a compound being, consisting of a free and partly supernatural spirit, his real _self_, which controls his body and mind; what becomes of this spirit at death? We know what becomes of the body: the various molecules are arranged in other groups, and the natural forces are changed into other natural forces. Nothing is lost or annihilated. But what becomes of the spirit? If this is a free supernatural force, the idea that it should perish altogether, when the accompanying natural forces are re-arranged at death, is most unlikely. Indeed the apparent indestructibility of matter points to a corresponding immortality of spirit. No doubt God could, _if He chose_, destroy either, just as He could create either; but without some supernatural interference, the creation or destruction of either seems incredible. Yet if a man's spirit is not destroyed, it must survive; for it does not seem to have any separate parts into which it can be split up like a man's body. Therefore, as it cannot undergo the only kind of death of which we have any knowledge (which is this re-arrangement of separate parts), it may survive for ever. And there are four chief arguments in favour of this personal immortality of man;--those derived from his _unique position_; his _unjust treatment_; his _vast capabilities_; and his _inherent belief_. We will consider each in turn, and then see what can be said on the other side. (1.) _From his unique position._ The first argument is from man's _unique position_, more especially when we regard him as the last and noblest result of the vast scheme of evolution, which has been in progress here for so many thousands of years. For such a vast scheme, like everything else, requires not only a _cause_, but a _purpose_; and however much evolution can explain, it cannot explain itself. Why should there have been any evolution at all? Why should a universe of dead matter have ever produced life? There must have been some motive in all this, and what adequate motive can be suggested? We can only look for an answer in _man_, who is not only the highest creature on this planet, but as far as we know on any planet; so here if anywhere we must find the explanation. Evolution would then have _God_ for its Cause, and _man_ for its purpose--an undoubtedly adequate _Cause_, but is it an adequate _purpose_? For the human race cannot exist for ever as it is. Everything points to this earth sooner or later falling into the sun, when all forms of life must cease. Therefore, if man is not immortal, the whole of evolution which has led up to him as its final end will still have had no _permanent_ result. And no result which is not permanent seems altogether worthy of the Eternal God, the Author of this evolution. But if, on the other hand, man is immortal; and if this earth, with its strange mixture of good and evil, is a suitable place in which to test and form his character; and if perhaps God wishes hereafter to be surrounded by men who have stood the test, and have formed their character in accordance with His Will; then it may lead to a _permanent_ result. And then its creation would not be such a hopeless mystery as on the opposite theory; for the perfecting of immortal beings seems an object worthy even of God. Thus if we deny the immortality of man, the whole of evolution becomes meaningless, and nature is a riddle without a solution. But if we admit it, there is at least the possibility of a satisfactory answer. For then, as just said, nature is seen to be only _a means to an end_--a temporary (though perhaps necessary) means to a permanent end--the end being to produce _man_ (a free being), and then to provide a suitable place for his moral training. And this will enable him, if he wishes, from being a _free_ man, to become also a _righteous_ man, that is, a man who acts right, though he might act wrong, and thus to some extent worthy to share in his Maker's immortality. And we must remember, man could not have been created righteous, using the word in its strict sense. He might have been created _perfect_ (like a machine), or _innocent_ (like a child), but to be _righteous_ requires, as just said, his own co-operation--his continually choosing to act right, though he might act wrong. And this of necessity is a slow process, with some failures. But the end aimed at is a permanent, and therefore perhaps an adequate, end; and the present world seems exactly suited to attain this end, as it affords a man boundless opportunities (every day, if he likes to use them) of acting right, though he might act wrong. We thus seem forced to the conclusion--however strange it may appear--that the gradual training and perfecting of _man_ is the only adequate explanation of the world, the real object of its long evolution. Yet, if he is not _immortal_, this object can never be attained, for no one reaches moral perfection here; while even if they did, it would only last for a short time. And we may ask, is it likely that such a vast scheme should end in failure, or at most in only a temporary success? Is it not rather probable that if man is the end of evolution, then God, the Author of evolution, must value him; and if God values him, He is not likely to let him perish for ever. In short (as it has been well put), such vast progress from such small beginnings points to an end proportionately great, and this involves the immortality of man. On the whole, then, we may say in the words of Romanes, one of the great champions of evolution, that 'only by means of this theory of probation is it possible to give any meaning to the world, _i.e._, any _raison d'être_ of human existence.'[8] [Footnote 8: Thoughts on Religion, 1895, p. 142.] (2.) _From his unjust treatment._ The second argument is from man's _unjust treatment_ in this world. For as we saw in the last chapter, God is a Moral Being, able to distinguish right from wrong; and, as far as we can judge, He is One Who will always act right Himself. Yet His treatment of men in this world seems most unjust. Wicked men are allowed to prosper by their wickedness, good men suffer unjustly, while some men's lives seem to be nothing but suffering; and how is this to be accounted for? There is here again one, and only one, satisfactory explanation, which is that this life is not the whole of man's existence, but only a preparation for a _future life_--a short trial for a long hereafter. And, looked at from this point of view, the most apparently miserable lives may afford as valuable training, perhaps more so, than the outwardly happy ones. The temptation to dishonesty, for example, can be as well resisted by a poor man who is only tempted to steal sixpence, as by a rich man who is tempted to embezzle a thousand pounds. And if resisting such a temptation helps to form a man's character, as it certainly does, and hence, perhaps, to fit him for a better life hereafter, this can be as well done in the one case as in the other. And the same principle applies universally; even a child has his temptations, which are very real _to the child_, though they may seem ridiculous to us. So if this life is intended as a time of probation in which to form a man's character, we cannot imagine a better system or one more admirably adapted to the end in view. And we must remember a man's _character_ is the thing most worth forming, since (as far as we can judge) it is his only _permanent_ possession. All else will be surrendered at death, but his character will last as long as the man himself, and hence perhaps for ever. Nor is this all, for these trials and sufferings themselves may be the very means of adding to man's future happiness. The joy of having resisted temptation, for instance, would be impossible if men were never tempted; and the joy of rescuing others from suffering and sin, and thus perhaps making everlasting friendships, would be impossible if there were no suffering, and no sin. And the same applies in other cases. So man's probation in this life, with its incessant battle against evil, may (for all we know) increase his future happiness in a way which nothing else could possibly do, and to an extent of which we can form no conception. No pain or suffering, then, can be looked upon as useless, and no position in this world as one to be despised; in short, to anyone who believes in a future state, life is always worth living. And we may be sure that in a future state every injustice will be made good, and all wrongs will be righted. (3.) _From his vast capabilities._ The third argument is from man's _vast capabilities_. For he does not seem adapted to this life only, but has aspirations and longings far beyond it. His powers seem capable of continual and almost endless development. Nearly all men wish for immortality. This life does not seem to satisfy them entirely. For instance, men, especially scientific men, have a longing after knowledge which can never be fully realised in this world. A man's capacities are thus out of all proportion to his destiny, if this life is all; and to many it seems improbable that the Creator should have endowed men with such needless and useless capacities. And this is strongly confirmed by the analogy of nature. For example, a bird in an egg shows rudimentary organs which cannot be used as long as it remains in the egg; and this of itself is a proof that it is intended some day to leave the egg. On the other hand, a full-grown bird seems to be entirely adapted to its present state, and not to have any longing after, or capacity for, any higher state; therefore we may infer that no higher state is intended for it. And by the same reasoning we may infer that some higher state is intended for man, as his mental and spiritual nature is not entirely satisfied by his present life. In short, all animals seem made for this world alone, and man is the only unsatisfied being in the universe. Moreover, the period of preparation in a man's life seems out of all proportion to the time prepared for, if death ends all. The development in a man's moral character often continues till nearly the close of his life. His character has then reached maturity. But for what is it matured? Surely not for immediate destruction. Must not the wise Creator, Who designed everything else with such marvellous skill, have intended something better for His noblest creatures than mere boundless capabilities, unsatisfied longings, and a lifelong preparation all for nothing? (4.) _From his inherent belief._ The fourth argument is from man's _belief_ in immortality. For such a belief has existed among men in nearly every age and country, learned and ignorant, civilised and uncivilised. It was implied by the pre-historic men who buried food and weapons with their dead, and it was maintained by such philosophers as Socrates and Plato, and how are we to account for it? It cannot have arisen from experience; and the attempts to explain it as due to the desire which men have for immortality, or to someone occasionally dreaming that he sees a departed friend, are quite inadequate. Desire is not conviction, and dreams are notoriously untrustworthy. They might account for an individual here and there entertaining this belief, but not for mankind always and everywhere doing so; especially in face of the apparent contradiction afforded by every grave. The belief, then, seems intuitive, and an inherent part of human nature; and we may ask, is it likely that God should have implanted such a strange belief in man if it were erroneous? These, then, are the four great arguments in favour of man's immortality--those derived from his unique position; his unjust treatment; his vast capabilities; and his inherent belief. And with the doubtful exception of the second, not one of them applies to animals; so the common objection, that if man is immortal, animals must be so too, is quite untenable. (5.) _Counter-arguments._ On the other hand, the great and only important argument _against_ man's immortality is that his spirit seems to be inseparably connected with his body. As far as we can judge, it is born with the body; it often inherits the moral character of its parents, just as the body inherits bodily diseases; it certainly develops and matures with the body; and in most cases it seems to gradually decay with the body; therefore it is inferred the two perish together. But this does not follow; since, as said in Chapter IV., it is not the _same_ body (in the sense of the same material particles) with which the spirit is united, even in this life. It is united to a continually changing body, yet it always survives. So it is not unlikely that it may survive the still greater change at death. Moreover, it is united to the body as its _master_, not its servant. It is, as already shown, a _free_ spirit; and it decides to a great extent what the body shall say, and what it shall do. It thus uses the body as a means, or instrument, by which to act in the outer world; and therefore, of course, when the instrument gets out of order, its actions will become confused, but without implying that the spirit itself is so. In the same way, if we shut up a clerk in a telegraph office, as soon as his instruments get out of order, the messages he sends, which are his only means of communicating with the outer world, will become confused, and finally cease, but without implying that there is anything wrong with the clerk himself. And this is confirmed by the fact that instances are known in which a man's intellect and will have remained quite vigorous all through a mortal sickness, and up to the very moment of death; so the gradual decay of the body does not necessarily involve that of the mind and spirit. While in states which somewhat resemble death, when, for instance, the body is fast asleep, or rendered unconscious by an accident, the mind and spirit are often peculiarly active, as in dreams. Therefore, when the body is really dead, the spirit may (for all we know) not only survive, but be endowed with still greater powers. On the whole, then, this is not an insuperable difficulty; while the previous arguments render the idea of a future life _distinctly probable_. And this has, of course, a most important bearing on our next question; indeed, it is scarcely too much to say that the probability of a revelation depends on that of a future life. For if death ends all, man's existence is so short that a revelation can scarcely be thought probable; but if he is to live for ever, the case is very different. (_B._) THE PROBABILITY OF A REVELATION. Now (assuming man to be immortal) a revelation, from whichever side we regard it, appears to be somewhat _probable_. For God is a Being, Who seems likely to make a revelation; and man is a being exactly fitted to receive one; so we will consider these points first, and then the chief difficulties. (1.) _From God's character._ Now we have already shown that God takes an interest in man's welfare, being not only beneficent, but _righteous_; and that He apparently wishes to train and develop man's character, so that he may be righteous also. And from this we may infer that if a revelation would benefit man, and thus _help_ him to be righteous also, it would not be improbable for God to make one. And that the knowledge given by a revelation might influence him in this way cannot be denied; for, as a matter of fact, such knowledge, either real or pretended, has had precisely this effect on millions of men. We may also infer from God's methods in nature, which are those of slow development, that if He made a revelation at all it would be done _gradually_. At first it would be very simple, and such as could be transmitted orally. Then when man acquired the art of writing, and could thus hand it on accurately, a more definite revelation might be given. And this again might become more and more perfect, as man himself became more perfect. We obviously do not know enough to speak with confidence, but still God's character, so far as we can judge of it, seems to be in favour of His making some revelation--and that a _progressive_ revelation--to man. (2.) _From man's character._ Passing on now to man's character, we find that he has been given a nature exactly fitted to receive a revelation. For religion of some kind is, and always has been, practically universal; and nearly all important religions have rested on real or pretended revelations from God, and have been accepted in consequence. In other words the nature of man has everywhere led him to seek for, demand, and, if need be, imagine a revelation from God. Nor is this in any way surprising, for a thoughtful man cannot help _wishing_ to know why he is placed in this world; why he is given free will; how he is meant to use his freedom; and what future, if any, is in store for him hereafter: in short, what was God's object in creating him. It seems of all knowledge to be the highest, the noblest, the most worth knowing. And therefore as this result of man's nature was not only brought about by God, but must have been foreknown, and intended by Him, it is not improbable that He should satisfy it; especially as it cannot be satisfied in any other way, for the knowledge being superhuman, is out of man's own reach. And it may be added, the more we realise this, and feel that God is _Unknowable_, in the sense that we can gain no satisfactory knowledge about Him by human science and reasoning, so much the more likely does it seem that He should give us such knowledge by revelation. And all this is strengthened when we consider man's _unique position_ to which we have already alluded. For if we admit that the creation and perfecting of man is the chief object the Creator had in view for so many thousands of years, it does not seem unlikely that He might wish to hold some communication with him. In fact, as the whole of nature shows design or purpose; and as man occupies a special place in nature; we may fairly conclude that God has some special purpose in regard to man, and, for all we know, He may have something special to tell him about it. We conclude then that man's character, and the unique position he occupies on this earth, is a strong argument in favour of his receiving some revelation from God. (3.) _Two difficulties._ But now for the other side. There are two chief difficulties. The first is on the ground of _injustice_; since any revelation, it is said, would imply a partiality to the men or nation to whom it was given, and would therefore be unjust to the rest of mankind. But this is quite untenable, for God's other benefits are not bestowed impartially. On the contrary, pleasure and pain, good and evil, are never equally distributed in this world. What seems to be partiality and favouritism is the rule everywhere, and this without any apparent merit on the part of the men concerned. Moreover, the advantages of a revelation may not concern this world only. And all who believe in a future life are convinced of God's justice, and that men will only be judged according to the knowledge of His Will which they possessed, or might have possessed had they chosen, and not according to any higher standard which was out of their reach. The other and more important difficulty is, that if God gave a revelation at all, it would be absolutely _convincing_. Everything that God does He does well; and we cannot, it is urged, imagine His making a revelation to man, and yet doing it so imperfectly as to leave men in doubt as to whether He had done it or not. For this would imply that He either could not, or would not, make the evidence sufficient to ensure conviction, neither of which is credible. Now, though all this seems very probable, a moment's reflection will show that it is not conclusive; for exactly the same may be said in regard to the whole of Natural Religion. Is it likely, for instance, that God should create free and responsible men, and yet give them such insufficient evidence about it, that while many are fully convinced, others deny not only their own freedom and responsibility, but even the existence of the God Who made them? Yet He has done so. Therefore there is nothing improbable in the evidence for a revelation, if one were given, being of a similar character. Indeed, there is much to be said in favour of its being so, since in most other matters man is left a free choice. He is often able to find out how he ought to think and how he ought to act, but he is not forced to do either. And God may have wished that the same rule should be followed in regard to a revelation, and that man should be left free to believe it or not, just as he is left free to act on it or not, if he does believe it, and just as he is left free to choose right or wrong in other cases. Therefore we cannot say that no revelation can come from God unless the evidence for it is overwhelming. It would doubtless be sufficient to convince a man if he took the trouble to examine it carefully; only it need not be such as to compel conviction. What kind of evidence we may expect will be considered in the next chapter. Neither of these difficulties, then, is at all serious; and we are forced back to the conclusion that, provided man is immortal, a revelation seems for several reasons to be somewhat probable. To put it shortly, if God is good and really cares for man's welfare, it seems unlikely that He should withhold from him that knowledge which is the highest, the noblest, and the most longed for;--the knowledge of Himself. While, if man is a free and immortal being, occupying a unique position in the world, and intended to live for ever, it seems unlikely that he should be told nothing, and therefore know nothing, as to why he was created, or what is his future destiny. Thus when we consider both God's character and man's character, it seems on the whole to be somewhat _probable_, that God would make a revelation to man; telling him how he ought to use his freedom in this world, and possibly what future is in store for him hereafter. CHAPTER VII. THAT A MIRACULOUS REVELATION IS CREDIBLE. A Divine messenger would probably have credentials. (_A._) SUPERHUMAN SIGNS. These include superhuman _knowledge_, afterwards verified (such as prophecy), and superhuman _coincidences_; and there is nothing incredible in either. (_B._) SUPERNATURAL SIGNS, or Miracles. These are 'marvels specially worked by God as signs to confirm a revelation.' This definition is threefold, referring to their outward appearance, cause, and purpose. (1.) _Miracles as marvels_: though they seem to be contrary to experience, they are not really so, for we have no experience of the proper kind to refer to. (2.) _Miracles as special works of God_: they only interfere with the uniformity of nature in the same way that human works interfere with it. (3.) _Miracles as signs_: there is nothing to show that they are inconsistent with God's Character. We decided in the last chapter that it was somewhat probable for God to make a revelation to man, that is to say, to certain men, for them to make known to others. And if so, it is also probable that these men would have some means of showing that the knowledge had come from God and not from themselves. In other words, if God sends a message to man, it is probable that the messenger would have _credentials_. And this is especially so when we remember that men have often appeared in the world's history who professed to have a revelation from God, and have misled mankind in consequence. Is it not probable, then, that if God really did give a revelation, He would take care that His true messengers should have credentials which would distinguish them from all the others? These credentials, then, or _signs_, must plainly be such as could not be imitated by man; and must therefore of necessity be _superhuman_, if not _supernatural_. So we may divide them into these two classes; and we have now to consider whether they are _credible_. By this is meant something more than merely possible; for the possibility of such signs follows at once from the existence of God. But are they credible? is there, that is, at least a slight chance that they would occur? (_A._) SUPERHUMAN SIGNS. These include, to begin with, superhuman _knowledge_, which can be afterwards verified, such as _prophecy_. And there is no difficulty here, provided we admit a revelation at all. The only possible objection refers to prophecies regarding human conduct; which it may be said would interfere with man's freedom. But this is only part of the more general objection that any foreknowledge on God's part would interfere with man's freedom, which we have already considered in Chapter II.; and there is no special difficulty in regard to prophecies. In every case, as said before, God merely foreknows the use man will make of his freedom. Therefore the event will not occur _because_ it was foretold, but rather it was foretold because God knew that it would occur. Superhuman _coincidences_ form another, and very important class of superhuman signs. In these a man's acts or sayings are confirmed by natural events _coinciding_ with them in a remarkable manner. For example, suppose a prophet claimed to have a revelation from God; and, as a proof of this, invited the people to witness a sacrifice on a cloudless day. He then killed an animal, and placed it on an altar of stones, but put no fire under it, and even threw water over it. Suddenly, however, a thunderstorm arose, and the sacrifice was struck by lightning. Now the thunderstorm might have arisen and the lightning might have struck on that particular spot, in strict accordance with natural laws. Yet the _coincidence_ of this occurring just when and where the prophet wanted it, would tend strongly to show that God, Who must have foreknown and designed the coincidence, meant to confirm what the prophet said. Or, to put the argument in other words, the lightning would seem to have struck the sacrifice _on purpose_; and therefore such events have been popularly described as _natural forces acting rationally_. Of course, as a rule, the forces of nature do not act rationally. A falling meteorite, for instance, does not go a yard out of its way to kill anyone, or to spare him. Man, on the other hand, does act rationally. His acts are directed for a purpose, and thus show design. And, in the events we are considering, the forces of nature seem also to act with a purpose; and this makes it probable that the Author of these forces was really acting with this purpose. In short, the events seem to have been not only _superhuman_, but _designed_ coincidences. And they present no difficulty whatever from a scientific point of view, as they are part of the ordinary course of nature. Of course, the value of such coincidences varies greatly according to whether the event is of a usual or unusual character. In the latter case, more especially if the event is very unusual or the coincidence very striking, they are popularly called miracles. And they may have considerable value, though there is always a slight chance of the agreement being, as we might say, accidental. (_B._) SUPERNATURAL SIGNS. We pass on now to supernatural signs or _Miracles_ in the strict sense; which we will define as _marvels specially worked by God as signs to confirm a revelation_. This definition has, of course, been chosen so as to suit the miracles recorded in the Bible, and it is really threefold. In the first place, a miracle is described as to its outward _appearance_. It is a marvel--that is to say, a strange and unusual event, which we cannot account for, and which thus attracts attention. Secondly, it is described as to its _cause_. This marvel is said to have been specially worked by God--that is to say, by some action on His part different from His usual action in nature. While, lastly, it is described as to its _purpose_; it is a marvel worked by God as a sign to confirm a revelation. The first of these aspects is expressed in the Old Testament by the word _wonder_, the second by such phrases as God's _mighty hand_ or _outstretched arm_, and the third by the word _sign_; all these terms being often used together. While in the New Testament the words used are _wonders_, _mighty works_, and _signs_, which again exactly correspond to these three aspects of the miracles. And it should be noticed these aspects are not chosen merely to suit the present argument, since other events can and ought to be looked at in the same way, not as mere facts, but also with reference to their alleged cause and purpose. And to show the great importance of this, we will consider an event from modern history; and select the well-known example of the Mont Cenis Tunnel. Suppose, then, that anyone heard of this as a _marvel_ only, the cause and purpose being left out of account. Suppose, that is, he heard that a small straight cavity of uniform size, and several miles long, had been formed under a range of mountains; and that it had begun as two cavities, one from each end, which after years of growth, had exactly met in the middle. He would at once pronounce the event incredible, for the cavity is quite unlike all natural cavities. But now suppose the next point, as to its _cause_, to be introduced. It is said to be something more than a natural cavity, and to be the work of man. All previous difficulties would now vanish, but fresh ones would arise. For numbers of men must have worked together for years to excavate such a cavity, and from what we know of human nature, men will only do this for commercial or profitable ends, and not for boring useless holes through mountains; so the event is still practically incredible. But now suppose the last point of _purpose_ to be introduced. It is said that this is not a mere useless hole bored through a mountain; but a hole bored for a particular purpose; it is, in fact, a railway tunnel. Then all difficulties would disappear. Of course, whether we believe the tunnel was actually made depends upon what evidence we have; but it is clear that when we consider the _cause_ by which, and the _purpose_ for which, it is said to have been made, there is nothing incredible about it. Now a similar method must be adopted in regard to miracles. They must not be regarded simply as _marvels_, but as marvels said to have been brought about by an adequate _cause_, and for a sufficient _purpose_. And it is just these elements of cause and purpose which may make the marvels credible. We will consider these points in turn. (1.) _Miracles as marvels._ The first aspect of miracles is that of marvels. As such, they are events which seem to be _contrary to our experience_--contrary, that is, to what our experience of apparently similar events would lead us to expect. Suppose, for instance, it were stated that on one occasion three men were thrown into a furnace, but instead of being burnt to death they walked about, and in a few minutes came out alive and unhurt. Such a marvel would be contrary to our experience, and that it would be therefore _very improbable_ is obvious. But is this improbability sufficient in all cases to make the event incredible, no matter what testimony there may be in its favour? Hume's argument that it is sufficient is well known. He says we can only judge of the probability of anything, whether it be the occurrence of an event, or the truthfulness of the narrator, by _experience_. And as it is contrary to experience for miracles to be true, but not contrary to experience for testimony to be false, the balance of probability must always be against the miracle. But of course this reasoning, if true, must apply to all alleged events which are contrary to experience; and yet such events have occurred by the thousand. Let us take a single example. Everyone has had some experience as to how far it is possible to hear the human voice distinctly, and till the last half century, the limit has always been fixed at a few hundred yards. Now, suppose anyone were told for the first time that it was possible to speak right across England, he would justly say that it was utterly contrary to experience. No one, he would think, could possibly speak loud enough to be heard even twenty miles away. But ought he to add that it was therefore incredible? From this it is clear that there must be some flaw in Hume's argument; and it is easily discovered. For the argument regards the event only as a marvel, and _without reference to its cause_. But we have no right to leave this out of account, nor do we in ordinary affairs. When anyone first hears of a marvel, he does not merely compare it with his previous experience, and then come to a decision; in which case, as Hume supposes, it might be always against the marvel. But he first inquires how this strange event is said to have been brought about. For if any cause is stated to have been at work as to the influence of which he knows nothing, then he has no experience of the proper kind to appeal to. There is the testimony in favour of the event as before; and if he disbelieves it, he does so, not because it is contrary to his experience, but because he thinks the supposed cause either did not exist, or would not have had the effect asserted. A reference to the previous example will make this quite plain. When the man first heard of persons talking across England, instead of at once declaring it incredible, he would, if a reasonable man, inquire as to the _cause_ of this. He would then be told that a wire was stretched across England with an instrument called a telephone at each end. Now, as to the possibility or adequacy of such a contrivance he might doubt a good deal; but one thing would be quite clear, that this was a case to which his experience, however large, did not apply. Here, then, is the explanation of Hume's argument. So long as a marvel, contrary to experience, is regarded _only_ as a marvel, the probability must be always against its truth. But if we inquire as to how it was brought about, and find that some _cause_ is said to have been at work, as to the influence of which we are ignorant, then the argument is no longer applicable. We have simply no experience of the proper kind to appeal to. Now this is precisely the case with regard to miracles. As marvels they seem contrary to experience; but they claim to have a special _cause_, to be specially worked by God--that is to say, by some action on His part different from His usual action in nature; and of the influence of this cause we have no experience whatever. We may, of course, deny its existence or doubt its adequacy; but the argument, that the event is contrary to experience, vanishes. It is clear then that the fact of miracles appearing to be contrary to experience is no reason for disbelieving _them_, though it might be a reason for disbelieving other alleged marvels, because they claim to have a special cause, by which to account for this special character. We have now to examine whether this special cause really existed--that is to say, we pass on to the second aspect of the miracles; our conclusion thus far being that they are credible as _marvels_, if it be credible that they were _specially worked by God_. (2.) _Miracles as special works of God._ Now, any special action on God's part is often thought to present great difficulties, as interfering with the uniformity of nature. But, as we shall see, it would only interfere with it in the same way that human action interferes with it. Neither of them violates the laws of nature, though both are able to bring about results which nature of itself could not have brought about. In the case of human action this is quite obvious. Suppose, for example, a clock with an iron pendulum is placed on a table and keeps perfect time. Suddenly, without anyone touching it, it begins to gain rapidly, and then, after a short time, goes on as before. To anyone unacquainted with the cause, this would appear a _marvel_: and might even be thought incredible, as (assuming the clock to be properly constructed) it would seem to imply some alteration in the laws of motion, or the force of gravity. Yet we know a man can easily produce such a marvel by holding a magnet under the table. The disturbing cause, it will be noticed, was not really the magnet, which always acts according to law; nor the hand which held it; but the action of the _human will_ on matter. This took place in the man's brain, and enabled him to move first his hand, and then the magnet. Thus we may say the marvel was produced by _natural means supernaturally applied_; for the magnet was undoubtedly a natural means, yet nature of itself would never have used it in the way described. It required something _above_ nature (something _super_-natural) and this was the free will of man. Now, miracles claim to have been produced in a somewhat similar, though to us unknown, manner by the action of God's Will on matter, that is to say, by natural means supernaturally applied; and, if so, they are certainly credible, under this head. For we know that God has the power of acting on matter, and that He used it once in creating the universe, so He might use it again if He thought fit. Moreover, God's knowledge of the laws of nature is complete, while man's is only partial. As, then, man, with his limited power over nature and partial knowledge of its laws, can produce marvels so unlike nature's ordinary course (a steam engine, for instance), yet without violating any of its laws; still more can God, Who has complete power over nature, and complete knowledge of its laws. For to deny this would be to deny to God the power which we concede to man; and which we must remember, God Himself has given to man. And this would lead to the strange conclusion that God has enabled man to do what He cannot do Himself. No doubt we cannot imagine _how_ God can exert His Will over matter, but neither can we imagine how we can do it ourselves. The difficulty is as great in the one case as in the other. From this it is clear that miracles need not violate natural laws. And though at first one might be inclined to dispute this with regard to particular miracles; the statement is quite correct, provided we make due allowance for our own ignorance. Take, for example, the supposed case of the men in the furnace. We certainly do not know how their bodies were kept cool, but we cannot say it was impossible. For extreme heat, and even _extreme_ cold, may be very close together, as is shown by the well-known experiment of freezing mercury inside a red-hot crucible. As a mere marvel this is quite as wonderful as the men in the furnace; and an ignorant man would probably pronounce both to be equally incredible. Or, to take another example, suppose it were said that on one occasion a few loaves of bread were miraculously increased so as to feed some thousands of persons: could we say that this must have violated natural laws? Certainly not, for bread is composed of carbon, and other elements, which were in abundance all round. And though we only know one way of forming them into bread, which is by means of a living plant, we cannot say that this is the only method. Indeed, there is nothing incredible in substances like bread being made artificially some day. Of course in all marvels produced by _man_, we know the special cause at work, but this does not justify us in saying that in a miracle, merely because we do not know it, the laws of nature must be violated. Moreover there is much to be said in favour of what is usually called God's _immanence_ in nature, but which would perhaps be better described as _nature's immanence in God_.[9] This means that all natural forces are due to the present and immediate action of God's Will; and if it is correct, it greatly lessens the difficulty as to miracles. For then there would be no interference with nature at all, leave alone violating its laws, God would be working there all the time, only in a miracle He would not be working in exactly the same way as in ordinary events. [Footnote 9: Acts 17. 28; Col. 1. 17.] But in any case there is, as we have shown, nothing incredible in the way in which miracles are said to be _caused_, provided it is credible that God should wish to use His power over nature in the assumed manner; for natural forces are anyhow His servants, not His masters. And this brings us to the third aspect of the miracles; for whether God would wish to act in a certain way depends of course on what _purpose_ He had in doing so. (3.) _Miracles as signs._ Now the purpose for which miracles are said to be worked is as _signs to confirm a revelation_. Therefore, since we have already shown that it is somewhat probable that God would make a revelation, we have now only to inquire whether miracles are suitable means for confirming it. And they appear to be the most suitable means possible; for they would both attract men's attention to the revelation, and also convince them of its superhuman character; which are precisely the two points required. It may still be objected, however, that God's character, as shown by nature, is _Unchangeable_; and therefore it is most improbable that He would at times act in a special manner with regard to natural events. And the more nature is studied the stronger does this objection appear; since there are thousands of cases, such as storms and earthquakes, when it seems to us that a slight interference with nature would be most beneficial to man, yet it never occurs. Or the objection may be otherwise expressed by saying that a miracle would reflect on either the Wisdom or the Power of God; since, if All-Wise, He would have foreseen the occasion, and if All-Powerful, He would have provided for it; so any subsequent interference with nature is something like having to remedy a fault. This is no doubt the most serious objection to miracles, but it is by no means insuperable. For, to begin with, God is a _Free Being_, Who does not always act the same (Chapter I.). And when we turn to the only other free being we know of, which is man himself, what do we find? A man may, as a rule, act uniformly, yet on some special occasion, and for some special reason, he may, and often does, act differently; and why should not God do the same? Indeed the only changelessness in a man which we could admire, would be that of _moral character_, always and invariably acting right. And for all we know the changelessness of God may be only of such a kind, and this certainly would not prevent Him from acting in some special manner, in order to obtain some special purpose. Secondly, in the case before us, it is even probable that He would do so, since the chief object of the miracles could not have been obtained by the ordinary course of nature, though their immediate effects might have been. For example, instead of healing men miraculously, they might be healed naturally; but then there would be no evidence that the healer was sent by God, and was speaking in His name. In short, the messenger would be without _credentials_; and, as we have already shown, this seems unlikely. Thirdly, though miracles do not show God's changelessness in the same manner as the unchanging course of nature, they are not inconsistent with it. For no one supposes them to be _after-thoughts_ with God, but to have been planned from the very beginning. And if God always intended to make a revelation to man, and always intended that when He did so, He would confirm it by miracles, they would involve no inconsistency or change on His part. Fourthly, there may be some _other_ attributes of God which miracles show, and which the ordinary course of nature does not; such as His superiority over nature itself on the one hand, and the interest He takes in man on the other. One object of a revelation might be to convince man that though God was the Ruler of the Universe, He yet cared for man's happiness and valued his affections. And how could such a revelation _as this_, be better confirmed than by an (apparent) interference with nature for the benefit of man. For this would show, as nothing else could show, both that there was a Being _above_ nature, and that He cared for man _more_ than He cared for nature. And it entirely agrees with what we decided in the last chapter, that the whole of nature seems to be only a means to an end, the end being the moral training of man, enabling, that is, a free man to become a _righteous_ man. And if so, it is out of the question to think that _in order to further this end_--the very end for which nature itself exists--God might not, if He thought fit, interfere with the course of nature. We may therefore answer the objection in one sentence, God is _All-Good_, as well as All-Wise, and All-Powerful; and His Goodness might induce Him to use miracles, though by His Wisdom and Power He might have dispensed with them. We may now sum up the present argument. We showed that miracles are credible both as _marvels_ and as _special works of God_, if it be credible that they were brought about as _signs to confirm a revelation_. And we have now shown that, supposing God to make a revelation, which we have already admitted, there is nothing inconsistent with His character as far as we know it, and therefore nothing in the slightest degree incredible, in His using such signs, as one of the means of confirming its truth. On the whole, then, we conclude that a Miraculous Revelation is certainly _credible_. Whether one has ever been made will be discussed in the following chapters. PART II. _THE JEWISH RELIGION._ CHAP. VIII. THAT THE ACCOUNT OF THE CREATION WAS DIVINELY REVEALED. " IX. THAT ITS ORIGIN WAS CONFIRMED BY MIRACLES. " X. THAT ITS HISTORY WAS CONFIRMED BY MIRACLES. " XI. THAT ITS HISTORY WAS ALSO CONFIRMED BY PROPHECIES. " XII. THAT THE JEWISH RELIGION IS PROBABLY TRUE. CHAPTER VIII. THAT THE ACCOUNT OF THE CREATION WAS DIVINELY REVEALED. (_A._) ITS GENERAL PRINCIPLES. (1.) Its pure Monotheism; admittedly true. (2.) Its seven days need not be taken literally. (3.) Its gradual development; admittedly true. (_B._) ITS DETAILED ORDER. (1.) The earliest state of the earth. (2.) Light. (3.) The Firmament. (4.) Dry Land. (5.) Vegetation. (6.) The Sun and Moon. (7.) Fishes and Birds. (8.) Land Animals. (9.) Man. (_C._) CONCLUSION. The accuracy of the narrative points to its having been Divinely revealed. Having decided in the previous chapters on the Existence of God, and that it was credible that He might make a miraculous Revelation to man; we pass on now to the _Jewish Religion_, which (as well as the Christian) actually claims to be such a Revelation. And the first argument we have to consider in its favour is that afforded by the opening chapter of Genesis. It is urged that this account of the Creation must have been _Divinely revealed_, since it contains a substantially correct account of events which could not have been otherwise known at the time. What then we have to examine is, whether this narrative is nearer the truth, as we now know it from geology and other sciences, than could have been the case, if written by a man ignorant of these sciences. And the ancient narratives of Babylonia, India, Persia, and elsewhere, show how far from the truth mere human conjecture on such a subject is likely to be. While if we admit a revelation at all, there is nothing improbable in some account of the creation of the world having been revealed to man very early in his history, and being accurately preserved by the Jews, while only distorted versions of it occur among other nations. Indeed considering the common custom among ancient nations of worshipping the heavenly bodies, animals, etc., no subject could have been more suited for a first revelation than the statement in simple language that all these were created by one supreme God. We will now consider the _general principles_ of the narrative, and then its _detailed order_. (_A._) ITS GENERAL PRINCIPLES. The most important of these are its pure Monotheism, its seven days, and its gradual development, each of which we will notice in turn. (1.) _Its pure Monotheism._ This alone renders it almost, if not quite, unique among similar narratives. According to the writer, the whole universe, including sun, moon, and stars, was all due to _one_ God. And this is obvious enough now, but it was not so when the narrative was written. For other ancient accounts are either _Pantheistic_, and confuse God with the universe; or _Dualistic_, and assume two eternal principles of good and evil; or _Polytheistic_, and make the universe the work of several gods. The Jewish writer, on the other hand, has kept clear of all these theories; and he is admittedly right and all the others wrong. (2.) _Its seven days._ Next as to the seven days. Now it is generally assumed, doubtless from their being referred to in the Fourth Commandment, that the writer intended these _days_ to be ordinary days of twenty-four hours each, but this is at least doubtful. For ordinary days depend on the _sun_, and would therefore have been impossible before the formation of the sun on the _fourth_ day; as the writer himself implies, when he says that the division of time into days and years was due to the sun. Then there is the difficulty as to the _seventh_ day, when God rested from all His work. This, it will be remembered had no close, or _evening_, and it is implied that it has continued ever since. For if God only rested for twenty-four hours, and then set to work again it would not have been a rest from _all_ His work. But in this case, the seventh day would represent a long period of time, and if so the other days would probably do the same. Moreover the writer, or compiler, of this very narrative, after describing the creation in six days, says it all occurred in _one_ day,[10] so he could scarcely have thought the days to be literal. [Footnote 10: Gen. 2. 4.] There are thus great difficulties from the narrative itself in taking the word _day_ in its ordinary sense; and it seems better to consider it (like so many terms in the Bible) as a human analogy applied to God. Then God's _days_ must be understood in the same way as God's _eyes_ or God's _hands_; and this removes all difficulties. None of these terms are of course literally true, but they represent the truth _to man_ in such a way that he can to some extent understand it. For example, the phrase that God gained the victory _by His own right hand_ clearly means that He gained it not with the assistance of others, or with the help of weapons, but simply by His own unaided inherent strength. It was such a victory as might _in a man_ be described as gained by his own right hand. And the same may be said of the passage, _The eyes of the Lord are over the righteous, and His ears are open unto their prayers_, and many others which occur in the Bible. The terms hands, eyes, and ears, when applied to God, are thus human analogies, which must not be taken literally. And in one passage at least the word _day_ is used in a similar sense; for we read "Hast thou eyes of flesh or seest thou as man seeth? Are thy days as the days of man, or thy years as man's days?"[11] Here it will be noticed _days_ and _years_ are applied to God in precisely the same manner as _eyes_ and _seeing_. [Footnote 11: Job 10. 4, 5.] Moreover similar terms occur all through the present narrative. Even the simple words _God said_ cannot be taken literally, for there was no one to speak to. They must be meant in the sense that God _thought_, or that God _willed_. And we have no more right to suppose the days to be literal days than to suppose that God literally spoke. What we are to suppose in the one case is that God--the Almighty One, for whom nothing is too hard--created all things in such a way as might _to man_ be best represented by a simple word of command. And what we are to suppose in the other case, is that God--the Eternal One, to whom a thousand years are but as yesterday--created all things in such periods of time as might _to man_ be best represented by six days. Vast as the universe was, man was to regard it as being to God no more than a week's work to himself. In short, the time of creation, however long in itself, was utterly insignificant in its relation to God; to _Him_ each stage was a mere day. And this it may be added, is not a purely modern theory, made to reconcile the narrative with science; for the Greek Jew, Philo, born about B.C. 20, who knew nothing of geology, ridicules the idea of the days of Genesis being literal, or representing any definite periods of time.[12] [Footnote 12: Works of Philo Judæus, First book of Allegories of the Sacred Laws, Yonge's translation, 1854, vol. i., p. 52.] (3.) _Its gradual development._ Next, it must be noticed that, according to Genesis, God did not create a perfect world all at once, but slowly built it up step by step. At first the earth was waste and void, and only after it had passed through several stages did it become fully inhabited. Moreover, at every step (with two exceptions, the firmament and man, noticed later on), God examined the work and pronounced it _good_. He seems thus to have discerned a beauty and excellence in each stage; though it was not till the close of the whole work that He was completely satisfied, and pronounced it all _very_ good. And the narrative appears to be quite correct. For geology shows that the formation of the earth, with its various inhabitants, was a _gradual_ process, not accomplished all at once, but slowly step by step, through successive ages. And it also shows that these ages were of such magnitude and importance that we cannot regard them as mere preparations for man's coming, but as having a beauty and excellence of their own, so that they well deserved to be called _good_. But we may ask, how did the writer of Genesis know all this? And then as to the way in which this development was brought about. According to Genesis, each stage was due to what we may call a _Special Divine force_, represented by a word of command from God. And this also seems correct, for we cannot otherwise account for the first appearance of the various groups, such as plants, animals, and men. It is not disputed that these various stages may have been evolved from the previous ones, _e.g._, the living from the not-living, which the narrative itself suggests in the words, _Let the earth put forth grass_; and also at its close, when it speaks of _the generations_ of the heaven and of the earth; which implies some kind of organic descent, or evolution. Indeed the common expression that God _made_, is probably used in the sense of _evolved_; since the same word is employed in ver. II of fruit-trees _making_ fruit (translated _bearing_ or _yielding_ fruit); yet we know they do not _make_ fruit suddenly out of nothing, but slowly produce it. What is disputed is, that this evolution took place merely under the influence of natural development, and without the additional influence of a new Divine force. And considering that all attempts to effect a similar transition _now_ have failed completely, it is not unreasonable to suppose that there was some other and special Cause at work _then_. Nor is it easy to see how some of the changes could have been otherwise produced. Take, for instance, this very subject of the origin of life. As far as we know, the only natural mode in which life can begin is from a living parent, yet there was a time when there were no living parents on this earth. How, then, could it have originated, except by some process other than natural, _i.e._, supernatural? Or, again, to take another instance, when the first _free being_, whether animal or man, appeared on this planet, a force totally different from all natural forces was introduced, and one which could not have been derived from them alone. And then there is another, and very interesting point, to notice. It is that according to Genesis, these steps were not all of equal importance. For while it describes most of them by the word _made_, which, as just said, seems to mean here _evolved_; on three occasions, and only three, it uses the word _create_. These refer to the origin of the _universe_, of _animal life_ (fishes and birds), and of _man_. And this is very significant, when we remember that these correspond to the beginning of _matter_, _mind_, and _spirit_; and are therefore (as said in Chapter IV.) just the three places where something altogether _new_ was introduced; which could not, as far as we can see, have been evolved from anything else. And this double method of producing, partly by _creating_, and partly by _making_ or evolving, is again referred to at the close of the narrative, where we read that God rested from all His work, which He had _created and made_. So much for the general _principles_ of the narrative, we pass on now to its detailed _order_. (_B._) ITS DETAILED ORDER. It will be remembered that in Genesis, after describing the earliest state of the earth, there are eight stages in its development; two of which occurred on the third, and two on the sixth, day. We have thus altogether nine subjects to examine. (1.) _The earliest state of the earth._ Now according to Genesis, the earth was at first _waste and void_ and in _darkness_, and apparently surrounded by _the waters_. And if we adopt the usual nebula theory, and refer this to the first period after it became a separate planet, and had cooled so as not to give out any light itself, these statements seem quite correct. For we know from geology that the earth was then waste and void as far as any form of life was concerned, while it was probably surrounded by a dense mass of clouds and vapours sufficient to produce darkness. Genesis then starts from the right starting-point, but again we must ask, how did the writer know this? (2.) _Light._ The first step in the development of the earth was, we are told, the introduction of _light_. That this is what Genesis means seems plain, for the _light_ must refer to the _darkness_ of the previous verse, and that referred to the _earth_. As to whether light previously existed in other parts of the universe, Genesis says nothing, it is only concerned with this earth. And in the development of this earth, _light_ (which in nature always includes _heat_) must obviously have come first. For on it depend the changes in temperature, which lead to the formation of winds, clouds, and rain; while it also supplies the physical power that is necessary for the life of plants and animals; so in placing _light_ as the first step, Genesis is certainly correct. Of course, the _source_ of light at this early period was the remainder of the nebula from which our planet was thrown off. It was thus spread over an immense space, instead of being concentrated like that of our present sun; and probably only reached the earth through a partial clearing of the clouds just alluded to. (3.) _The firmament._ The next step was separating the waters _above_ (_i.e._, these dense clouds) from the waters _below_ which are stated to be the seas (v. 9-10) and forming between them a firmament or _expanse_ (see margin), that is to say, the _air_. The idea that the writer thought this expanse meant a solid plane holding up the waters above (because it is perhaps derived from a word meaning firm or solid) is scarcely tenable. For the firmament was called _heaven_, and the upper waters, above this _heaven_, must mean the sources from which the _rain_ usually comes, since it is called _rain from heaven_.[13] And these sources are easily seen to be _clouds_; and no one could have thought that a _solid_ firmament was between the clouds, and the seas. [Footnote 13: Deut. 11. 11.] Moreover this same word _heaven_ (though used in various senses) is translated _air_ later on in this very narrative when it speaks of fowls of the _air_ (verses 26-28, 30). And it also occurs in other passages, in some of which it cannot possibly mean anything but the air, _e.g._, 'any winged fowl that flieth in the _heaven_,' and 'the way of an eagle in the _air_,'[14] which is an additional reason for thinking that it means the air here. [Footnote 14: Deut. 4. 17; Prov. 30. 19.] And the omission, before noticed, to say that God saw that the firmament was _good_, is quite natural, if this means only the air, _i.e._, the space between the clouds and the seas; just as an artist, though he might examine his pictures to see that they were _good_, would not examine the spaces between them. But it is difficult to account for, if it means a _solid_ firmament, which would seem to require God's approval like everything else. On the other side, we have the expression about opening the _windows_ of heaven when it rained at the time of the Flood,[15] which is sometimes thought to imply openings in a solid firmament. But it need not be taken literally, any more than that about the _doors_ of the sea;[16] especially as in another place the _heavens dropping water_ is explained as meaning that the clouds dropped it.[17] And since God promised that in future when a _cloud_ was seen it should not cause another _flood_,[18] it is clear that the flood was thought to have come from the clouds, and not from any openings in a solid reservoir in the sky. [Footnote 15: Gen. 7. 11; 2 Kings 7. 2; Mal. 3. 10.] [Footnote 16: Job 38. 8-11.] [Footnote 17: Judges 5. 4 (R.V.).] [Footnote 18: Gen. 9. 14.] There is also the passage about the sun and moon being _set in the firmament_. But the writer cannot have meant they were _fastened_ to the firmament, since the moon keeps changing its position relatively to the sun, just as a rainbow often does in regard to the cloud in which it is also said to be _set_.[19] Of course their being in the firmament at all, is not correct if this means only the air. But the word may be used here in a wider sense, like the English word _heaven_, to include both the air, and the space beyond. For we speak of the clouds of heaven, and the stars of heaven, and in neither case with any idea of their being _heaved up_, which is said to be the literal meaning of the word. And in its primary sense, as we have shown, the firmament or _expanse_ between the upper and lower waters (the clouds and the seas) must mean the _air_. And the order in which this is placed after light, and before plants and animals is obviously correct. [Footnote 19: Gen. 9. 13.] (4.) _Dry land._ We now come to an important point, the appearance of _dry land_. According to Genesis, there was not always dry land on the earth; the whole of it was originally covered by the waters. And science shows that this was probably the case; the earth being at first surrounded by watery vapours, which gradually condensed and formed a kind of universal ocean. And then, when the surface became irregular, through its contracting and crumpling up, the water would collect in the hollows, forming seas, and dry land would appear elsewhere. But how was it possible for the writer of Genesis to know all this? There is nothing in the present aspect of nature to suggest that there was once a time when there was no _dry land_; and if it was a guess on his part, it was, to say the least, a very remarkable one. (5.) _Vegetation._ We next come to vegetation; and it is placed in exactly its right position. For it requires four things: _soil_, _air_, _water_, and _light_ including heat; and these were the four things which then existed. The narrative, it will be noticed, speaks of three groups, _grass_, _herbs_, and _fruit-trees_; and it seems to imply that they appeared at the same time. But since its general plan is that of a series of events, the other view, that they appeared successively, is at least tenable. There is, however, this difficulty. None of these groups were complete before the following periods. Some plants, for instance (including both herbs and fruit-trees), appeared long after the commencement of fishes and birds, and similarly some fishes and birds after the commencement of land-animals. But the difficulty is due to the fact that the classes _overlap_ to a large extent. And the order given in Genesis is nearer the truth than any other would be. Had the writer, for example, placed them plants, animals, birds, fishes; he would have been quite wrong. As it is, by placing them plants, fishes, birds, animals, he is as near the truth as he can be, if classes which really overlap have to be arranged in a consecutive narrative. (6.) _The sun and moon._ We next come to the formation (that is the _making_, or evolving) of the sun and moon. The stars are also mentioned, but it is not said that they were made on the fourth day, and they are not alluded to in the opening command. Now, this alleged formation of the sun _after_ that of light is certainly the most striking point in the narrative, and was long thought to be a difficulty. But science has now shown that it is correct. However strange we may think it, light did undoubtedly exist long before the sun. In other words, the original nebula of our solar system was luminous, and lighted the earth, long before it contracted into a body with a definite outline, and producing such an intense and concentrated light, as could be called a sun. And since the earth would cool much quicker than the large nebula from which it was thrown off, vegetation might commence here before the nebula had become a sun, though this latter point is doubtful. Two objections have now to be noticed. The first refers to the _moon_, which must have been thrown off from the earth long before the dry land and vegetation appeared; and being so small, would have consolidated sooner. But when considered only as _lights_, as they are in the narrative, it is quite correct to place the moon with the sun; since moonlight is merely reflected sunlight, and must obviously have commenced at the same time. The other objection is, that according to Genesis, the earth seems to be the centre of everything, and even the sun exists solely for the sake of lighting the earth. But (as before pointed out) the narrative is only concerned with this earth; and while we know that sunlight is of use to the inhabitants of our planet, we do not know that it serves any other useful purpose. These, however, are but minor matters; the important point, as before said, is that Genesis places the formation of the sun _after_ that of light. This must have appeared when it was written, and for thousands of years afterwards, an obvious absurdity, since everyone could see that the sun was the source of light. We now know that it is correct. But how could the writer have known it, unless it had been divinely revealed? (7.) _Fishes and birds._ We next come to fishes and birds, which formed the commencement of animal life, and thus involved the beginning of _mind_ in some form; so Genesis (as before said) appropriately uses the word _create_ in regard to them. It is not clear whether the narrative means that they appeared at the same time, or successively, though here, as in other cases, the latter is the more probable. And science entirely agrees in thus placing fishes before birds and both of these after plants. This latter point indeed must be obvious to every naturalist, since the food of all animals is derived, either directly or indirectly, from the vegetable world. And Genesis is equally correct in emphasising the great abundance of _marine_ life at this period--the waters were to _swarm with swarms of living creatures_ (R.V. Margin), and also in specially alluding to the great _sea-monsters_ (wrongly translated _whales_ in A.V.), since these huge saurians were a striking feature of the time. The Hebrew word is said to mean _elongated_ or stretched-out creatures, and as several of them were over 50 feet long, no more suitable term can be imagined. But again we must ask how did the writer know that such creatures were ever plentiful enough, or important enough, to deserve this special mention? What are called _invertebrate_ animals, such as insects, and shell-fish, do not seem to be included in the narrative. But it never claims to describe everything that was created; and its extreme brevity, combined with the insignificance of these creatures, may well account for their being omitted. (8.) _Land animals._ We next come to land animals, which we are told the earth was to _bring forth_. As however it is said in the next verse that God _made_ (or evolved) these creatures, this need not mean that they were produced directly from the earth, as in the case of plants. And the position in which they are placed, after fishes and birds and before man, is again correct. It is true that a few animals such as kangaroos, seem to have appeared as early as birds, but land animals as a whole undoubtedly succeeded them. Three classes are mentioned, _beasts of the earth_, _cattle_, and _creeping things_, probably small animals, since another Hebrew word is used for them, later on, which is said elsewhere to include weasels and mice.[20] [Footnote 20: Gen. 7. 21; Lev. 11. 29.] (9.) _Man._ Last of all we come to the creation of man. Four points have to be noticed here. The first refers to the _time_ of man's appearance, which everyone now admits was not till towards the close of the Tertiary or most recent group of strata; so Genesis is quite correct in placing him last of all. As to the actual date, it says nothing; for its chronology only leads back to the creation of _Adam_ in chapter 2, and not to that of the _human race_ (male and female) in chapter 1. And it is implied in several places, that there were men before Adam[21] and this was in consequence maintained by some writers long before geology was thought of.[22] We need not therefore discuss the difficulties connected with the story of Adam and Eve, as to which the present writer has never seen a satisfactory explanation. [Footnote 21: Gen. 4. 13-17, 26; 6. 2-4.] [Footnote 22: _E.g._, Peyreyrius, A.D. 1655, quoted in the Speaker's Commentary.] Secondly, the creation of man is represented as of an altogether _higher order_, than any of the previous ones, since God did not say, "Let the earth bring forth a thinking animal" or anything of that kind, but '_Let us make man_.' And this also is quite correct, for man, as we know (Chapter IV.) has a _free will_, which makes him a personal being, and therefore far above everything else on this planet. And when we consider the vast possibilities, involved in the creation of such a being,--able to act right or wrong, and therefore able, if he wishes, to act in opposition to the will of his Maker, thus bringing sin into the world with all its consequent miseries,--it seems only suitable that such a momentous step should have been taken with apparent deliberation and in a manner different from all the others. And it explains why no such expression as _after its kind_, which is so frequently used of plants and animals, is ever applied to man; for he is not one of a kind in the same sense. Each man is _unique_, a separate personal being, distinct from all else in the world, and not (like a tree for instance) merely one example of a certain way in which molecules may be grouped. It also explains why man (unlike plants, animals, etc.) is not said to have been created _good_. For goodness in a free being must include moral goodness, or _righteousness_; and, as explained in Chapter VI., man could not have been _created_ righteous. He might have been created _perfect_, like a machine, or _innocent_, like a child, but to be _righteous_ requires his own co-operation, his freely choosing to act right, though he might act wrong. No doubt he was made in a condition perfectly suited for the _exercise_ of his free choice; but this seems included in God's final approval of the whole creation that it was all _very good_. Thirdly we are told that man (and man alone) was created _in the image of God_. And once more the narrative is quite correct; for that which distinguishes man from the rest of creation is his _free will_, to which we have just alluded. And that which distinguishes God's action from all natural forces is also His _freedom_, (Chapter I.). So it is perfectly true to say that man was created _in the image of God_, since the special attribute which separates him from all else on this planet is precisely the attribute of God Himself. And here we may notice in passing, that though God intended man to be both in His image and _likeness_; He only created him in His _image_ (vv. 26, 27). And the reason is probably that while image means resemblance in _nature_ (possessing free will, etc.), likeness means resemblance in _character_[23] (always acting right). Therefore, of course, though God wished man to be both in His image and likeness, He could only create him in His _image_; the other point, that of _likeness_ in character, depending (as just said) on the free will of the man himself. [Footnote 23: The Hebrew word appears to be sometimes used in this sense. _E.g._, Ps. 58. 4; Isa. 13. 4. In one brief reference in Gen. 5. 1-2, when speaking of Adam, _likeness_ is used where we should have expected _image_; though even here it is not said that man was _created_ in God's likeness, but merely that he was so _made_.] The fourth, and last point is that though the writer assigns to man this unique position, he does not give him, as we might have expected, a _day_ to himself, but _connects him with land animals_, as both appearing on the sixth day. And this also seems correct, for in spite of his immense superiority, man, in his physical nature, is closely connected with animals. Therefore the writer appropriately uses both words, _made_ and _created_, in regard to him. The former shows that in one respect (as to his body) he was evolved like the rest of nature; the latter, that in another respect (as to his spirit) he was essentially distinct. (_C._) CONCLUSION. We have now discussed the narrative at some length, and (omitting details) it shows three great periods of life. Each of these has a leading characteristic; that of the third day being vegetation; that of the fifth day fishes and birds, special mention being made of great sea-monsters; and that of the sixth day land animals, and at its close man. And though these groups _overlap_ to a large extent, yet speaking broadly, the three periods in Geology have much the same characteristics. The Primary is distinguished by its vegetation (_e.g._, the coal beds); the Secondary by its saurians, or great sea-monsters; and the Tertiary by its land animals, and at its close (now often called the Quaternary) by man. The harmony between the two is, to say the least, remarkable. And the theory of Evolution which like geology, was unknown when the narrative was written, also supports it, as has been admitted by some of its leading exponents. Thus Romanes once said, and as if the fact was undisputed, 'The order in which the flora and fauna are said, by the Mosaic account, to have appeared upon the earth corresponds with that which the theory of Evolution requires, and the evidence of geology proves.'[24] We decide, then, that the order of creation, as given in Genesis, is in most cases certainly, and in all cases probably, correct. [Footnote 24: _Nature_, 11th August, 1881.] And this is plainly of the utmost importance, for the points of agreement between Genesis and science are far too many, and far too unlikely to be due to accident. They are far too many; for the chance against eight events being put down in their correct order by guesswork is 40,319 to 1. And they are far too unlikely; for what could have induced an ignorant man to say that light came before the sun, or that the earth once existed without any dry land? Moreover, the general principles of the narrative, especially its pure Monotheism and its gradual development, are very strongly in its favour. And so are some individual points, such as the idea of creation, in its strict sense, being limited to matter, mind, and spirit. While our admiration for it is still further increased by its extreme conciseness and simplicity. Seldom, indeed, has such a mass of information been condensed into as few lines; and seldom has such a difficult subject been treated so accurately yet in such simple and popular language. Now what conclusion can be drawn from all this? There seem to be only two alternatives: either the writer, whoever he was, knew as much about science as we do, or else the knowledge was revealed to him by God. And if we admit a revelation at all, the latter certainly seems the less improbable. And this, it may be added, was the opinion of the great geologist Dana, who said (after carefully considering the subject) that the coincidences between the narrative, and the history of the earth as derived from nature, were such as to imply its Divine origin.[25] We therefore conclude that this account of the creation was _Divinely revealed_. [Footnote 25: Bibliotheca Sacra, April, 1885, p. 224.] CHAPTER IX. THAT ITS ORIGIN WAS CONFIRMED BY MIRACLES. Importance of the Pentateuch, as the only record of the origin of the Jewish Religion. (_A._) ITS EGYPTIAN REFERENCES. These are very strongly in favour of its early date; (1.) In the history of Joseph. (2.) In the history of Moses. (3.) In the laws and addresses. (_B._) ITS LAWS. These are also in favour of its early date: (1.) The subjects dealt with. (2.) Their connection with the history. (3.) Their wording. (_C._) THE THEORY OF A LATE-DATE. There are four chief arguments in favour of this, but they are not at all convincing: (1.) The language of the Pentateuch. (2.) Its composite character. (3.) Its laws being unknown in later times. (4.) The finding of Deuteronomy. (_D._) CONCLUSION. The Pentateuch was probably written, as it claims to be, by Moses; and we must therefore admit the miracles of the Exodus. We pass on now to the _origin_ of the Jewish Religion--that is to say, the events connected with the Exodus from Egypt. And as the only account we have of these is contained in the _Pentateuch_, we must examine this book carefully. Is it a trustworthy, and, on the whole, accurate account of the events which it records? And this depends chiefly on its _date_. Is it a _contemporary_ document, written by, or in the time of, Moses? And modern discoveries have at least shown that it may be so. For Egypt was then in such a civilised state, that it is practically certain that Moses, and the other leaders of Israel, could have written had they chosen. And as they somehow or other brought the people out of Egypt, it is extremely probable that they would have recorded it. But did they, and do we possess this record in the Pentateuch? This is the question we have to decide; and we will first consider the _Egyptian references_ in the Pentateuch, and then its _Laws_, both of which are very strongly in favour of an early date. Then we will see what can be said for the opposite theory, or that of a _late-date_; and lastly, the _conclusion_ to be drawn from admitting its genuineness. (_A._) ITS EGYPTIAN REFERENCES. Now a considerable part of the Pentateuch deals with Egyptian matters, and it appears to be written with correct details throughout. This would of course be only natural in a contemporary writer living in Egypt, but would be most unlikely for a late writer in Canaan. The question is therefore of great importance in deciding on the date of the book; so we will first consider these _Egyptian references_ (as they are called) in the history of Joseph, then in that of Moses, and then in the laws and addresses. They cannot of course be properly appreciated without some knowledge of ancient Egypt, but they are far too important to be omitted. It is disappointing to have to add that the evidence is almost entirely indirect, but up to the present no reference to either Joseph, or Moses, has been found on the Egyptian monuments, and none to the Israelites themselves that are at all conclusive. (1.) _In the history of Joseph._ To begin with, there are three cases where it is sometimes said that the writer seems _not_ to have been a contemporary, since Egyptian customs are there explained, as if unknown to the reader. These are their eating at different tables from the Hebrews, their dislike of shepherds, and their habit of embalming.[26] But the inference from the first two is extremely doubtful; though that from the third is rather in favour of a late date. There is not, however, a single word here (or anywhere else) which is _incorrect_ for Egypt, or which shows that the writer himself was unaware of its customs. [Footnote 26: Gen. 43. 32; 46. 34; 50. 3.] On the other hand, there is abundant evidence in favour of a contemporary date. The Pharaoh is generally thought to be Apepi II., who belonged to a _foreign_ dynasty of Shepherd Kings, probably Asiatic tribes like the Israelites themselves. And this will explain the evident surprise felt by the writer that one of his chief officers should be an _Egyptian_, which seems so puzzling to the ordinary reader.[27] It will also account for Joseph and his brethren being so well received, and for their telling him so candidly That they were _shepherds_, though they knew that shepherds were hated by the Egyptians. Had the Pharaoh himself been an Egyptian, this was hardly the way to secure his favour. [Footnote 27: Gen. 39. 1.] We will now consider a single chapter in detail, and select Gen. 41; nearly every incident in which shows a knowledge of ancient Egypt: Ver. 1. To begin with, the words _Pharaoh_ and _the river_ (_i.e._, the Nile), though they are the proper Egyptian names, seem to have been adopted in Hebrew, and occur all through the Old Testament; so they afford no indication of date. 2-4. The _dreams_, however, are peculiarly Egyptian. Cattle along the river bank, and feeding on the _reed-grass_ (an Egyptian word for an Egyptian plant), was a common sight in that country, but must have been almost unknown in Canaan. And their coming up _out of the river_ was specially suitable, as they represented the years of plenty and famine, which in Egypt depend entirely on the rise of the Nile. 5-7. In the same way wheat with _several ears_ is known to have been produced in Egypt; but is nowhere mentioned as grown in Canaan. 8. Moreover, we know that the Pharaohs attached great importance to dreams, and used to consult their _magicians_ and _wise men_ when in doubt; both these classes being often mentioned--and mentioned together--on the monuments. 9-12. We also know that there were officials corresponding to the _chief butler_ and the _chief baker_. And a reference has even been found to the curious custom of the former giving the King _fresh grape-juice_, squeezed into a cup (Gen. 40. 11), which is not likely to have been known to anyone out of Egypt. 13. And hanging the chief baker evidently means, from Gen. 40. 19, hanging up the dead body, after he had been _beheaded_; which latter was an Egyptian, and not a Jewish, punishment. 14. Next we are told, that when Joseph was hurriedly sent for by Pharaoh, he yet stopped to _shave_. And this was only natural, as the upper class of Egyptians always shaved; but it would scarcely have occurred to anyone in Canaan, as the Israelites always wore beards.[28] [Footnote 28: 2 Sam. 10. 5.] 35. So again the custom of laying up corn in storehouses, to provide against the frequent famines, and for taxation, was thoroughly Egyptian, the Superintendent of the Granaries being a well-known official. But as far as we know nothing of the kind existed in Canaan. 39. We then come to the promotion of Joseph; and several instances are known of foreigners, and even slaves, being promoted to high offices in Egypt. 40. And the monuments show that it was the regular Egyptian custom to have a Superintendent, who should _be over the house_. 42. Joseph is then given Pharaoh's _signet ring_, the use of which, at this early period, has been fully confirmed by the inscriptions. And he also receives _fine linen_ (an Egyptian word being used for this) and a _gold chain about his neck_. This latter was a peculiarly Egyptian decoration, being called _receiving gold_, and is continually alluded to on the monuments. And a specimen may be seen in the Cairo Museum, which happens to date from about the time of Joseph. 43-44. And the apparently insignificant detail that Joseph rode _in a chariot_ (implying horses) is also interesting, since, as far as we know, horses had only recently been introduced into Egypt by the Shepherd Kings. And had they been mentioned earlier--as, for instance, among the presents given to Abraham[29]--it would have been incorrect. And the expression _Abrech_, translated _Bow the knee_, is probably an Egyptian word (Margin R.V.). [Footnote 29: Gen. 12. 16.] 45. We also know that when foreigners rose to great importance in Egypt they were often given a new _name_. And Joseph's new name, Zaphenathpaneah, (probably meaning Head of the College of Magicians, a title he had just earned[30]) as well as Asenath, and Potiphera, are all genuine Egyptian names; though (with the exception of Asenath) they have not at present been found as early as the time of Joseph. [Footnote 30: H. E. Naville, Professor of Egyptology, at the University of Geneva, 'Archæology of the Old Testament,' 1913, p. 80.] 49. Lastly, the usual Egyptian custom (as shown by the monuments) of having a scribe to _count_ the quantity of corn as it is stored, is incidentally implied in the statement that on this occasion, owing to its great abundance, Joseph had _to leave off numbering it_. Thus everything in this chapter, _and the same may be said of many others_, is perfectly correct for Egypt; though much of it would be incorrect for Canaan, and is not likely to have been known to anyone living there. Yet the writer not only knows it, but _takes for granted that his readers know it too_, as he never explains anything. So the narrative is not likely to have been written after the time of Moses, when the Israelites left Egypt. And this, it may be added, is the opinion of many who have made a special study of ancient Egypt. Thus Prof. Naville declares 'I do not hesitate to say that he (Moses) was the only author who could have written the history of Joseph, such as we have it.'[31] [Footnote 31: Transactions of Victoria Institute, vol. xlvii., 1915, p. 355.] There is also evidence of quite another kind that this latter part of Genesis was written in Egypt. This is afforded by six passages, where, after the name of a place, is added some such phrase as _which is in Canaan_.[32] Yet there do not appear to be any other places of the same name liable to be confused with these. When then would it be necessary to explain to the Israelites that these places, Shechem, etc., were in Canaan? Certainly not after the conquest, when they were living there, and it was obvious to everyone; so we must refer them to the time when they were in Egypt. [Footnote 32: Gen. 23. 2, 19; 33. 18; 35. 6; 48. 3; 49. 30.] And this is strongly confirmed by a little remark as to the _desert of Shur_, which lies between Egypt and Canaan, and which is described as being _before Egypt as thou goest towards Assyria_.[33] Clearly then this also must have been written in Egypt, since only to a person living there would Shur be on the way to Assyria. [Footnote 33: Gen. 25. 18.] And the same may be said of the curious custom of first asking after a person's health, and then, if he is still alive.[34] This was thoroughly Egyptian, as some exactly similar cases have been found in a papyrus dated in the eighth year of Menephthah, generally thought to be the Pharaoh of the Exodus.[35] But it is scarcely likely to have been adopted by a writer in Canaan, as it makes the narrative seem so ridiculous. [Footnote 34: Gen. 43. 27-28.] [Footnote 35: Chabas, Mélanges �gyptologiques, Third Series, vol. ii., Paris, 1873, p. 152.] (2.) _In the history of Moses._ Secondly, as to the history of _Moses_. The name itself is Egyptian;[36] and his being placed in an ark of _papyrus_ smeared with bitumen was quite suited to Egypt, where both materials were commonly used, but would have been most unsuitable anywhere else. And several of the words used here, as well as in other parts of the Pentateuch, show that the writer was well acquainted with the Egyptian _language_. In this single verse for instance, there are as many as six Egyptian words, _ark_, _papyrus_, _pitch_, _flags_, _brick_, and _river_; though some of these were also used in Hebrew.[37] Then as to the Israelites making bricks with _straw_. This is interesting, because we know from the monuments that straw was often used for the purpose, the Nile mud not holding together without it, and that its absence was looked upon as a hardship. So here again the narrative suits Egypt, and not Canaan; where as far as we know, bricks were never made with straw. And it so happens that we have a little direct evidence here. For some excavations were made at Tel-el-Muskhuta in 1883; which turns out to be _Pithom_, one of the _store cities_ said to have been built by the Israelites.[38] And nearly its whole extent is occupied by large brick stores; some of the bricks being made with straw, some with fragments of reed or stubble used instead, and some without any straw at all. While, unlike the usual Egyptian custom, the walls are built with mortar; all of which exactly agrees with the narrative.[39] [Footnote 36: Driver's Exodus, 1911, p. 11.] [Footnote 37: Exod. 2. 3.] [Footnote 38: Exod. 1. 11. Transactions of Victoria Institute, vol. xviii., p. 85.] [Footnote 39: Exod. 1. 14; 5. 12.] Next, as to the _Ten Plagues_. There is much local colouring here, and hardly one of them would have been suitable in Canaan. Moreover, the order in which they come is very significant, as it makes them agree with the natural calamities of Egypt. (i.) The water being turned into blood cannot, of course, be taken literally, any more than when Joel speaks of the moon being turned into blood.[40] It refers to the reddish colour, which is often seen in the Nile about the end of June; though it is not as a rule sufficient to kill the fish, or render the water unfit to drink. And the mention of _vessels of wood and stone_[41] is interesting, as it was the custom in Egypt to _purify_ the Nile water by letting it stand in such vessels; and the writer evidently knew this, and took for granted that his readers knew it too, though it seems to have been peculiar to that country. [Footnote 40: Joel 2. 31.] [Footnote 41: Exod. 7. 19.] (ii.) Frogs are most troublesome in September. (iii.) Lice, perhaps mosquitoes or gnats, and (iv.) Flies, are usually worst in October. (v.) Murrain among the cattle, and (vi.) Boils cannot be identified for certain, but their coming on just after the preceding plagues is most natural, considering what we now know, as to the important part taken by mosquitoes and flies in spreading disease. (vii.) The hail must have occurred about the end of January, as the barley was then in the ear, but the wheat not grown up; and severe hailstorms have been known in Egypt at that time. (viii.) Locusts are known to have visited Egypt terribly in March, which seems the time intended, as the leaves were then young. (ix.) The darkness _which might be felt_ was probably due to the desert wind, which blows at intervals after the end of March, and sometimes brings with it such clouds of sand as to darken the atmosphere.[42] And curiously enough it often moves in a narrow belt, so that the land may be dark in one place, and light in another close by, as recorded in the narrative. [Footnote 42: I have noticed the same in the Transvaal, in particular a sandstorm at Christiana, on 20th October, 1900, which so darkened the sky that for about a quarter of an hour I had to light a candle.] (x.) The death of the _firstborn_, which occurred in April (Abib), was evidently not a natural calamity. But what is specially interesting is the statement _against all the gods of Egypt I will execute judgments_, without any explanation being given of what is meant by this.[43] It refers to the Egyptian custom of worshipping _living_ animals, the firstborn of which were also to die; but this would only be familiar to a writer in Egypt, since, as far as we know, such worship was never practised in Canaan. The agreement all through is most remarkable, and strongly in favour of a contemporary date. [Footnote 43: Exod. 12. 12; Num. 33. 4.] (3.) _In the laws and addresses._ And the same familiarity with Egypt is shown in the subsequent laws and addresses of the Pentateuch. Thus we read of laws being written on the doorposts and gates of houses, and on great stones covered with plaster, both of which were undoubtedly Egyptian customs; and the latter was not, as far as we know, common elsewhere.[44] Similarly the Egyptian habit of writing persons' names on sticks, was evidently familiar to the writer.[45] And so was the curious custom of placing food _for the dead_,[46] which was common in Egypt, though it never prevailed among the Israelites. [Footnote 44: Deut. 6. 9; 11. 20; 27. 2.] [Footnote 45: Num. 17. 2.] [Footnote 46: Deut. 26. 14.] Again the ordinary _food_ of the people in Egypt is given as fish, cucumbers, melons, leeks, onions, and garlic, all of which were commonly eaten there.[47] But as the Hebrew names of four out of the five vegetables do not occur elsewhere in the Bible, they could scarcely have been very common in Canaan; while none of the characteristic productions of that land, such as honey, milk, butter, figs, raisins, almonds, and olives, are mentioned. The list is, as it ought to be, thoroughly Egyptian. [Footnote 47: Num. 11. 5.] It must next be noticed that a large part of the _religious worship_ prescribed in the Pentateuch was obviously borrowed from Egypt; the most striking instance being that of the _ark_. A sacred ark is seen on Egyptian monuments long before the Exodus, and is sometimes surmounted by winged figures resembling the cherubim.[48] And the _materials_ said to have been used for this worship are precisely such as the Israelites might have then employed. The ark, for instance, and also the tabernacle were not made of cedar, or of fir, or of olive, as would probably have been the case in Canaan (for these were the materials used in the Temple)[49] but of shittim, _i.e._, acacia which is very common near Sinai, though scarcely ever used in Canaan. And the other materials were goats' hair, rams' skins, sealskins (or porpoise skins) from the Red Sea, and gold, silver, brass, precious stones, and _fine linen_ from the Egyptian spoils; the latter, as before said, being an Egyptian word.[50] There is no mistake anywhere, such as a late writer might have made. [Footnote 48: Comp. Exod. 25. 13-18.] [Footnote 49: 1 Kings 6. 14-36.] [Footnote 50: Exod. 25. 3-10.] Moreover, in other places, the writer of the Pentateuch frequently assumes that his readers know Egypt as well as himself. Thus the people are twice reminded of the _diseases_ they had in Egypt--'_the evil diseases of Egypt which thou knowest_' or '_which thou wast afraid of_'--and they are warned that if they deserve it, God will punish them with the same diseases again.[51] But such a warning would have been quite useless many centuries later in Canaan; just as it would be useless to warn an Englishman now of the diseases of Normandy, _which thou wast afraid of_, if this referred to some diseases our ancestors had before they left Normandy in the eleventh century. Such words must clearly have been written soon afterwards. Similarly the people are urged to be kind to strangers, and to love them as themselves, because _they knew the heart of a stranger_, having been strangers in the land of Egypt. And this again could scarcely have been written centuries after they left Egypt.[52] [Footnote 51: Deut. 7. 15; 28. 60.] [Footnote 52: Exod. 23. 9; Lev. 19. 34.] Elsewhere the writer describes the climate and productions of Canaan; and with a view to their being better understood, he contrasts them with those of _Egypt_.[53] Obviously, then, the people are once more supposed to know Egypt, and not to know Canaan. For instance, Canaan is described as a country of hills and valleys, and consequently of running brooks; and not like Egypt where they had to water the land with their _feet_. But no explanation is given of this. It probably refers to the _water-wheels_, which were necessary for raising water in a flat country like Egypt, and which were worked by men's _feet_. But can we imagine a late writer in Canaan using such a phrase without explaining it? On the other hand, if the words were spoken by Moses, all is clear; no explanation was given, because (for persons who had just left Egypt) none was needed. [Footnote 53: Deut. 8. 7-10; 11. 10-12.] On the whole, then, it is plain that when Egyptian matters are referred to in the Pentateuch, we find the most thorough familiarity with native customs, seasons, etc., though these are often quite different from those of Canaan. And we therefore seem forced to conclude that the writer was a contemporary who lived in Egypt, and knew the country intimately, and as we have shown, he evidently wrote for persons who had only recently come from there. (_B._) ITS LAWS. We pass on now to the Laws of the Pentateuch, which are found in the middle of Exodus, and occupy the greater part of the remaining books. And as we shall see, they also (quite apart from their references to Egypt) bear strong marks of a contemporary origin. (1.) _The subjects dealt with._ In the first place several of the laws refer exclusively to the time when the Israelites lived _in the desert_, and would have been of no use whatever after they settled in Canaan. Among these are the laws regarding the _camp_ and _order of march_.[54] Full particulars are given as to the exact position of every tribe, and how the Levites were to carry the Tabernacle. And what could have been the object of inventing such laws in later times, when, as far as we know, the people never encamped or marched in this manner? [Footnote 54: Num. 1. 47--4. 49.] Then there is the extraordinary law as to the _slaughter of animals_. It is stated in Leviticus that every ox, lamb, or goat, intended for food, was to be first brought to the Tabernacle, as a kind of offering, and there killed. But plainly this could only have been done, when the people were in the desert, living round the Tabernacle. So when the law is again referred to in Deuteronomy, just before they entered Canaan, it is modified by saying that those living at a distance might kill their animals at home.[55] [Footnote 55: Lev. 17. 3; Deut. 12. 21.] Moreover, some of the other laws, though applicable to Canaan, are of such a character as to be strongly in favour of an early date. Take, for instance, the remarkable law about _land_, that every person who bought an estate was to restore it to its original owner in the year of Jubilee, the price decreasing according to the nearness of this year.[56] How could anyone in later times have made such a law, and yet assert that it had been issued by Moses centuries before, though no one had ever heard of it? [Footnote 56: Lev. 25. 13.] Or take the law about the Levites.[57] They, it will be remembered, had no separate territory like the other tribes, but were given some special cities. And it is scarcely likely that such a curious arrangement could have been made at any time except that of the conquest of Canaan; still less that it could have been made centuries afterwards, and yet ascribed to Moses, without everyone at once declaring it to be spurious. [Footnote 57: Num. 35. 1-8.] (2.) _Their connection with the history._ It must next be noticed that the laws are not arranged in any regular order, but are closely connected with the history; many of them being _dated_, both as to time and place. For instance, 'The Lord spake unto Moses in the Wilderness of Sinai, in the first month of the second year after they were come out of the land of Egypt, saying,' etc.[58] And several others are associated with the events which led to their being made; and these are often of such a trivial nature, that it is hard to imagine their being invented.[59] Thus the Pentateuch shows, not a complete code of laws, but one that was formed _gradually_, and in close connection with the history. [Footnote 58: Num. 9. 1; 1. 1; Deut. 1. 3; see also Lev. 7. 38; 16. 1; 25. 1; 26. 46; 27. 34; Num. 1. 1; 3. 14; 33. 50; 35. 1; Deut. 4. 46; 29. 1.] [Footnote 59: Lev. 24. 15; Num. 9. 10; 15. 35; 27. 8; 36. 8.] And this is confirmed by the fact that in some cases the same laws are referred to both in Leviticus, (near the beginning) and in Deuteronomy (at the end) of the forty years in the Desert, but with slight differences between them. And these _exactly correspond_ to such a difference in date. One instance, that referring to the _slaughter of animals_, has been already alluded to. Another has to do with the animals, which might, and might not, be _eaten_. Leviticus includes among the former, several kinds of locusts, and among the latter the mouse, weasel, and lizard; all of which Deuteronomy omits. Clearly then, when Leviticus was written, the people were in the desert, and there was a lack of animal food, which might tempt them to eat locusts or mice; but when Deuteronomy was written, animal food was plentiful, and laws as to these were quite unnecessary. In each of these cases, then, and there are others like them, the differences must be due either to the various laws dating from the times they profess to, when all is plain and consistent; or else to the carefully planned work of some late writer, who was trying in this way to pretend that they did. Still more important is the fact that in several places stress is laid on the people's _personal knowledge_ of the events referred to; _e.g._, 'The Lord made not this covenant with our fathers, but with us, even us, who are all of us here alive this day.'[60] And what is more, this personal knowledge is often appealed to as a special reason for obeying the laws.[61] For instance, 'I speak not with your children which have not known, and which have not seen the chastisement of the Lord, ... but your eyes have seen all the great work of the Lord which He did. _Therefore_ shall ye keep all the commandments,' etc. Plainly this would have had no force in later times; indeed it would have provided an excuse for _not_ obeying the laws, since the people of those days had no personal knowledge of the events referred to. And we may ask, is it likely that a late author, who falsely ascribed his laws to Moses, in order to get them obeyed, should yet put into the mouth of Moses himself an excuse for not obeying them? [Footnote 60: Deut. 5. 3; 24. 9, 18, 22; 25. 17.] [Footnote 61: Deut. 11. 2-8; 4. 3-15; 29. 2-9.] Moreover, combined with this assumed personal knowledge on the part of the people there is a clear indication of _personal authority_ on the part of the writer. The later prophets always speak in God's name, and such expressions as _Thus saith the Lord, Hear ye the word of the Lord_, are extremely common, occurring altogether over 800 times. But in the laws of the Pentateuch nothing of the kind is found. They are delivered by Moses in his own name, often with the simple words, _I command thee_, which occur thirty times in Deuteronomy. And, of course, if the laws are genuine, there is nothing surprising in this, as Moses had been the great leader of the people, for forty years; but a late author would scarcely have adopted a style so different from that of all the other prophets. (3.) _Their wording._ Lastly we must consider the _wording_ of the laws; and this also is strongly in favour of a contemporary origin. Thus, as many as sixteen of them, which have special reference to Canaan, begin with some such phrase as _when ye be come into the land of Canaan_,[62] which plainly supposes that the people were not there already. And the same may be said of numerous other laws, which the people are told to obey when they enter into Canaan; or are even urged to obey in order that they may enter in, both of which again, imply that they were not there already.[63] While several of the laws refer to the _camp_, and sometimes to _tents_, in such a way as to show that when they were written, the people were still living in a camp.[64] [Footnote 62: Exod. 12. 25; 13. 11; Lev. 14. 34; 19. 23; 23. 10; 25. 2; Num. 15. 2, 18; 35. 10; Deut. 7. 1; 12. 1, 10, 29; 17. 14; 18. 9; 26. 1.] [Footnote 63: _E.g._, Deut. 4. 1, 5, 14; 5. 31; 6. 1, 18; 8. 1.] [Footnote 64: _E.g._, Exod. 29. 14; Lev. 4. 12; 6. 11; 13. 46; 14. 3; 16. 26; 17. 3; Num. 5. 2; 19. 3, 14.] The wording, then, of all these laws bears unmistakable signs of contemporary origin. Of course, these signs may have been inserted in later laws to give them an air of genuineness, but they cannot be explained in any other way. Therefore the laws must be either of _contemporary date_, or else _deliberate frauds_. No innocent mistake in ascribing old laws to Moses, can possibly explain such language as this; either it was the natural result of the laws being genuine, or else it was adopted on purpose to mislead. Nor can the difficulty be got over by introducing a number of compilers and editors. For each individual law, if it falsely _claims_ to date from before the conquest of Canaan (and, as we have seen, numbers and numbers of laws do so claim, _When ye be come into the land of Canaan_, etc.), must have been made by _someone_. And this someone, though he really wrote it after the conquest of Canaan, must have inserted these words to make it appear that it was written before. Practically, then, as just said, there are but two alternatives--that of genuine laws written in the time of Moses, and that of deliberate frauds. And bearing this in mind, we must ask, is it likely that men with such a passion for truth and righteousness as the Jewish prophets--men who themselves so denounced lying and deception in every form[65]--should have spent their time in composing such forgeries? Could they, moreover, have done it so _skillfully_, as the laws contain the strongest marks of genuineness; and could they have done it so _successfully_ as never to have been detected at the time? This is the great _moral_ difficulty in assigning these laws to a later age, and to many it seems insuperable. [Footnote 65: Jer. 8. 8; 14. 14; Ezek. 13. 7.] We have thus two _very strong_ arguments in favour of an early date for the Pentateuch: one derived from its _Egyptian references_, the other from its _Laws_. The former shows that no Israelite in later times could have written the book; and the latter that he would not have done so, if he could. (_C._) THE THEORY OF A LATE DATE. We pass on now to the opposite theory, or that of a _late date_. According to this the Pentateuch, though no doubt containing older traditions, and fragments of older documents, was not written till many centuries after the death of Moses. And the four chief arguments in its favour are based on the _language_ of the Pentateuch, its _composite character_, its laws being _unknown_ in later times, and the _finding of Deuteronomy_ in the reign of Josiah. We will examine each in turn. (1.) _The language of the Pentateuch._ Now in general character the language of the Pentateuch undoubtedly resembles that of some of the prophets, such as Jeremiah; so it is assumed that it must date from about the same time. But unfortunately critics who maintain this view do not admit that we have _any_ Hebrew documents of a much earlier date, with which to compare it. Therefore we have no means of knowing how much the language altered, so this of itself proves little. But it is further said that we have three actual _signs of late date_. The first is that the word for _west_ in the Pentateuch really means _the sea_, (_i.e._, the Mediterranean) and hence, it is urged, the writer's standpoint must have been that of Canaan, and the books must have been written after the settlement in that country. But, very possibly the word was in use before the time of Abraham, when the sea actually was to the west. And in later years a Hebrew, writing in Egypt or anywhere else, would naturally use the word, without thinking that it was inappropriate to that particular place. The second expression is _beyond Jordan_, which is often used to denote the _eastern_ bank; so here again, it is urged, the writer's standpoint must have been that of Canaan. But this is also untenable. For the same term is also used for the _western_ bank in several places,[66] and sometimes for both banks in the same chapter.[67] The third is Joseph's speaking of Canaan as the _land of the Hebrews_, long before they settled there, which is difficult to explain on any theory, but rather in favour of a late date.[68] [Footnote 66: _E.g._, Deut. 11. 30; Josh. 12. 7.] [Footnote 67: _E.g._, eastern in Deut. 3. 8; Josh. 9. 10; and western in Deut. 3. 20, 25; Josh. 9. 1.] [Footnote 68: Gen. 40. 15.] On the other hand, the language contains several _signs of early date_, though most of these can only be understood by a Hebrew scholar, which the present writer does not profess to be. But a couple of examples may be given which are plain to the ordinary reader. Thus the pronoun for _he_ is used in the Pentateuch both for male and female; while in the later writings it is confined to males, the females being expressed by a derived form which is very seldom used in the Pentateuch. Similarly, the word for _youth_ is used in the Pentateuch for both sexes, though afterwards restricted to males, the female being again expressed by a derived form. These differences, though small, are very significant, and they clearly show that the language was at a less developed, and therefore earlier, stage in the Pentateuch than in the rest of the Old Testament. (2.) _Its composite character._ The next argument is that the Pentateuch seems to have had _several authors_; since the same words, or groups of words, occur in different passages all through the book. And this, combined with slight variations of style, and other peculiarities, have led some critics to split up the book into a number of different writings, which they assign to a number of unknown writers from the ninth century B.C. onwards. For instance, to take a passage where only three writers are supposed to be involved, Exod. 7. 14-25. These twelve verses seem to the ordinary reader a straightforward narrative, but they have been thus split up.[69] Verses 19, 22, and parts of 20, 21, are assigned to P, the supposed writer of the Priestly Code of Laws; v. 24 and parts of 17, 20, 21, to E; and the remainder to J; the two latter writers being thus named from their generally speaking of the Deity as _Elohim_ and _Jehovah_ (translated _God_, and _Lord_) respectively. [Footnote 69: Driver's Introduction to Literature of Old Testament, sixth edition, 1897, p. 24. A slightly different division is given in his Exodus, 1911, p. 59.] Fortunately, we need not discuss the minute and complicated arguments on which all this rests, for the idea of any writings being so hopelessly mixed together is most improbable. While it has been shown in recent years to be very doubtful whether these names, _Elohim_ and _Jehovah_, occurred in the original Hebrew, in the same places as they do now.[70] And if they did _not_, the theory loses one of its chief supports. [Footnote 70: The Name of God in The Pentateuch by Troelstra; translated by McClure, 1912] And in any case there are at least four plain and simple arguments against it. The first is that the _Egyptian references_, to which we have already alluded extend to all the parts J, E, and P; as well as to Deuteronomy, which these critics assign to yet another author D. They are thus like an Egyptian _water-mark_ running all through the Pentateuch. And while it is difficult enough to believe that even one writer in Canaan should have possessed this intimate knowledge of Egypt, it is far more difficult to believe that _four_ should have done so. The second is that all the writers must have been equally _dishonest_, for they all contain passages, which they assert were written by Moses (see further on). And here again it is hard to believe, that even one writer (leave alone four) should have been so utterly unscrupulous. The third is that the curious custom of God speaking of Himself in the _plural_ number, which would be strange in any case, and is especially so considering the strong Monotheism of the Jews, is also common to both J and P.[71] And so is the puzzling statement that it was God Himself Who hardened Pharaoh's heart, which is also found in E.[72] [Footnote 71: Gen. 1. 26 (P): 3. 22 (J).] [Footnote 72: Exod. 4. 21 (E): 7. 3 (P.): 10. 1 (J).] The fourth is that parallel passages to the supposed two narratives of the Flood, ascribed to J and P (and which are thought to occur alternately _nineteen_ times in Gen. 7. 8.) have been found _together_ in an old Babylonian story of the Flood, centuries before the time of Moses; and also in layers corresponding to J and P.[73] And this alone seems fatal to the idea that J and P were originally separate narratives that were afterward combined in our Genesis. [Footnote 73: Sayce's Monument Facts, 1904, p. 20; Driver's Book of Genesis, 1905, pp. 89-95, 107.] Of course those who maintain that Moses wrote the Pentateuch, quite admit that he made use of previous documents, one of which, the book of the _Wars of the Lord_, he actually quotes.[74] Nor is it denied that some _additions_ have been made since his time, the most important being the list of kings, who are said to have reigned in Edom _before there reigned any king over the children of Israel_.[75] And this brings the passage down to the time of Saul at least who was Israel's first king. But it is probably a later insertion, since these kings are referred to in a different way from the dukes, who precede and follow them. And the same may be said of a few other passages[76] such as that _the Canaanite was then in the land_, which must clearly have been written after the Israelites conquered the country. But they can all be omitted without breaking the continuity of the narrative. [Footnote 74: Num. 21. 14.] [Footnote 75: Gen. 36. 31-39.] [Footnote 76: Gen. 12. 6; 13. 7; Exod. 16. 36; Deut. 2. 10-12, 20-23; 3. 14.] (3.) _Its laws being unknown in later times._ Passing on now to the third argument for a late date, it is urged that the laws of the Pentateuch cannot really have been written by Moses, since, judging from the other Old Testament Books, they seem to have been _unknown_ for many centuries after his time. But this is scarcely correct, for even the earliest books, Joshua and Judges contain some references to a _written_ law of Moses;[77] while both in Judges and 1 Samuel there are numerous agreements between what is described there, and what is commanded in the Pentateuch.[78] And similar evidence is afforded by the later books, David, for instance, alluding to the _written_ law of Moses, as if it was well known.[79] So in regard to the prophets. Two of the earliest of these are Hosea and Amos; and they both contain frequent points of agreement;[80] as well as one reference to a large number of _written_ laws.[81] [Footnote 77: Joshua 1. 7, 8; 8. 31, 32; 23. 6; 24, 26. Judges 3. 4.] [Footnote 78: Judges 20. 27, 28; 21. 19; 1 Sam. 2. 12-30; 3. 3; 4. 4; 6. 15; 14. 3.] [Footnote 79: 1 Kings 2. 3. 2 Kings 14. 6.] [Footnote 80: Hos. 4. 4-6; 8. 1, 13; 9. 4; 12. 9; Amos 2. 4, 11; 4. 4, 5; 5. 21-25; 8. 5.] [Footnote 81: Hos. 8. 12 (R.V.).] On the other side, we have the statement in Jeremiah, that God did not command the Israelites concerning burnt-offerings, and sacrifices, when He brought them out of Egypt.[82] But the next verse certainly implies that it was placing these before obedience that God condemned. And Hosea in a similar passage declares this to be the case, and that God's not desiring sacrifice means His not caring so much about it, as about other things.[83] It is also urged that there were practices which are _inconsistent_ with these laws; the most important being that the sacrifices were not limited to one place, or the offerers to priests. As to the former, the principle of the law was that the place of sacrifice should be of Divine appointment, _where God had chosen to record His name_, (_i.e._, where the _ark_ was), and not selected by the worshippers themselves.[84] In Exodus it is naturally implied that there should be many such places, as the Israelites were then only beginning their wanderings; and in Deuteronomy that there should be only one, as they were then about to enter Canaan. [Footnote 82: Jer. 7. 22.] [Footnote 83: Hosea 6. 6; 1 Sam. 15. 22.] [Footnote 84: Exod. 20. 24; Deut. 12. 5.] But for many years, owing to the unsettled state of the country, and the ark having been captured by the Philistines, the law could not be obeyed. When however, the people had rest from their enemies (which was the condition laid down in Deuteronomy) and the temple was built at Jerusalem, the law was fully recognised. After this the worship at _high places_ is spoken of as a _sin_, while Hezekiah is commended for destroying these places, and for keeping the commandments _which the Lord commanded Moses_.[85] [Footnote 85: 1 Kings 3. 2; 22. 43; 2 Kings 18. 4-6.] The discovery, however in 1907, that there was a Jewish Temple of Jehovah at Elephantine, near Assouan in Egypt, with sacrifices, as early as the sixth century B.C., and that it had apparently the approval of the authorities at Jerusalem, makes it doubtful if the law as to the one sanctuary was ever thought to be absolutely binding. As to the other point--the sacrifices not being offered only by _priests_--there is an apparent discrepancy in the Pentateuch itself; since Deuteronomy (unlike the other books) seems in one passage to recognise that _Levites_ might perform priestly duties.[86] Various explanations have been given of this, though I do not know of one that is quite satisfactory. There are also a few cases, where men who were neither priests, nor Levites, such as Gideon, David, and Elijah, are said to have offered sacrifices.[87] But these were all under special circumstances, and in some of them the sacrifice was directly ordered by God. There is thus nothing like sufficient evidence to show that the laws of the Pentateuch were not known in later days, but merely that they were often not obeyed. [Footnote 86: Deut. 18. 6-8.] [Footnote 87: _E.g._, Judges 6. 26; 2 Sam. 24. 18; 1 Kings 18. 32.] (4.) _The finding of Deuteronomy._ Lastly we have the finding of the _Book of the Law_ (probably Deuteronomy) when the temple was being repaired in the reign of Josiah, about 621 B.C., which is regarded by some critics as its first publication.[88] But this is a needless assumption, for there is no hint that either the king or the people were surprised at such a book being found, but merely at what it contained. And as they proceeded at once to carry out its directions, it rather shows that they knew there was such a book all the time, only they had never before read it. And this is easily accounted for, as most copies would have been destroyed by the previous wicked kings.[89] On the other hand, an altogether new book is not likely to have gained such immediate and ready obedience; not to mention the great improbability of such an audacious fraud never being detected at the time. [Footnote 88: 2 Kings 22.] [Footnote 89: 2 Kings 21. 2, 21.] Nor is it easy to see why, if Deuteronomy was written at a late date, it should have contained so many obsolete and useless instructions; such as the order to destroy the Canaanites, when there were scarcely any Canaanites left to destroy.[90] Yet the people are not only told to destroy them, but to do it _gradually_, so that the wild beasts may not become too numerous;[91] which shows that the passage was written centuries before the time of Josiah, when there was no more danger from wild beasts than from Canaanites. Nor is it likely, if Deuteronomy was written at that time, when Jerusalem claimed to be the central sanctuary, that the city itself should never once be named in the book, or even alluded to. [Footnote 90: Deut. 7. 2; 20. 17.] [Footnote 91: Deut. 7. 22.] Moreover, discoveries in Egypt have shown that in early times religious writings were sometimes buried in the foundations, or lower walls of important temples; where they were found centuries afterwards when the temples were being repaired; so the account, as we have it in the Bible, is both natural and probable.[92] [Footnote 92: E. Naville, Discovery of the Book of the Law, 1911, pp. 4-10.] On the whole, then, none of these arguments for a _late date_ are at all conclusive, and we therefore decide that this theory is not only very improbable in any case, but quite untenable in face of the strong evidence on the other side. (_D._) CONCLUSION. Having thus shown that the Pentateuch appears to date from the time of Moses, it only remains to consider its authorship, and the witness it bears to the miracles of the Exodus. Now that the greater part should have been written by Moses himself is plainly the most probable view. And this is strongly confirmed by the book itself; for a large part of it distinctly _claims_ to have been written by Moses. It is not merely that this title is given in a heading, or opening verse, which might easily have been added in later times. But it is asserted, positively and repeatedly, all through the book itself, both in Exodus, Numbers, and Deuteronomy, that many of the events, and laws referred to (often including several chapters) were actually _written down_ by Moses.[93] This is an important point, and it must be allowed great weight. [Footnote 93: Exod. 17. 14; 24. 4; 34. 27; Num. 33. 2; 36. 13; Deut. 31. 9, 22, 24. The first two passages in Exod. are assigned to the supposed E, the third to J, those in Num. to P, and those in Deut. to D.] And the first passage, that Moses was to write the threat against Amalek _in a book_, is specially interesting; because we cannot think that the book contained nothing but this single sentence. It evidently means in _the_ book (see American R. V.), implying that a regular journal was kept, in which important events were recorded. And this is confirmed by another of the passages, which says that Moses wrote down something that occurred _the same day_;[94] and by another which gives a long and uninteresting list of journeys in the Desert,[95] which certainly looks like an official record kept at the time. While the concluding passage relates how Moses, when he had finished writing the book, gave it to the Levites to keep beside the ark, in order to preserve it, and anything more precise than this can scarcely be imagined.[96] [Footnote 94: Deut. 31. 22; comp. Exod. 24. 4.] [Footnote 95: Num. 33.] [Footnote 96: Deut. 31. 24-26.] Moreover, the frequent references of Moses to his own exclusion from Canaan, and his pathetic prayer on the subject, have a very genuine tone about them.[97] And his bitter complaint that God had broken His promise, and not delivered the people,[98] could scarcely have been written by anyone but himself; especially after the conquest of Canaan, when it was so obviously untrue. [Footnote 97: _E.g._, Deut. 3. 23-26; 1. 37; 4. 21; 31. 2.] [Footnote 98: Exod. 5. 23.] And his authorship is further confirmed by the fact that so little is said in his praise. His faults are indeed narrated quite candidly, but nothing is said in admiration of the great leader's courage, and ability, till the closing chapter of Deuteronomy. This was evidently written by someone else, and shows what we might have expected had the earlier part been the work of anyone but Moses himself. Nor is there anything surprising in his writing in the third person, as numbers of other men--Cæsar, for instance--have done the same. But now comes the important point. Fortunately it can be stated in a few words. If the Pentateuch is a contemporary document, probably written by Moses, can we reject the miracles which it records? Can we imagine, for instance, a _contemporary_ writer describing the Ten Plagues, or the Passage of the Red Sea, if nothing of the kind had occurred? The events, if true, must have been well known at the time; and if untrue, no contemporary would have thought of inventing them. We therefore conclude, on reviewing the whole chapter, that the _origin_ of the Jewish religion _was confirmed by miracles_. CHAPTER X. THAT ITS HISTORY WAS CONFIRMED BY MIRACLES. (_A._) THE LATER OLD TESTAMENT BOOKS. (1.) Undesigned agreements; the rebellion of Korah. (2.) Alleged mistakes; unimportant. (3.) Modern discoveries; these support their accuracy. (_B._) THE OLD TESTAMENT MIRACLES. (1.) Their credibility; this can scarcely be disputed, if miracles at all are credible; the silence of the sun and moon, two other difficulties. (2.) Their truthfulness; list of eight public miracles, two examples, Elijah's sacrifice on Mount Carmel, and the destruction of the Assyrian army, considered in detail; conclusion. Having now examined the origin of the Jewish Religion, we have next to consider its _history_; which also claims to have been confirmed by miracles. So we will first notice (very briefly) the Old Testament _Books_, from Joshua onwards; and then consider some of the _Miracles_ which they record. (_A._) THE LATER OLD TESTAMENT BOOKS. Now, the arguments for, and against the genuineness of these Books need not be discussed at length, since we have already decided in favour of that of the Pentateuch, and most critics who admit the one, admit the other. But a few remarks may be made on three subjects, those of _undesigned agreements_, the importance of which is not obvious at first sight; the _alleged mistakes_ in the Old Testament; and the effect of _modern discoveries_. (1.) _Undesigned agreements._ Now, if we find two statements regarding an event, or series of events, which, though not identical, are yet perfectly consistent, this agreement must be either _accidental_ or _not accidental_. And supposing it to be too minute in detail to be accidental it shows that the statements are somehow connected together. Of course, if the events are true, each writer may know them independently, and their statements would thus be in perfect, though unintentional agreement. But if the events are not true, then either one writer must have made his account agree with the other, or else both must have derived their information from a common source. In the former case, there would be intentional agreement between the writers; in the latter, between the various parts of the original account. In any case, there would be designed agreement somewhere; for, to put it shortly, the events, being imaginary, would not fit together of necessity, nor by accident, which is excluded, and hence must do so by design. This has been otherwise expressed by saying that truth is necessarily consistent, but falsehood is not so; therefore, while consistency in truth may be undesigned, consistency in falsehood can only result from design. And from this it follows that an _undesigned agreement_ between two statements--provided of course it is too minute to be accidental--is a sure sign of truthfulness. It shows, moreover, that both writers had independent knowledge of the event, and were both telling the truth. And of course the same argument applies if the two statements are made by the same writer, though in this case there is a greater probability that the agreement is not undesigned. We will now consider a single example in detail, and select that referring to the rebellion of Korah, Dathan, and Abiram, as it is connected with an important miracle. Korah, we are told,[99] belonged to the family of Kohath and the other two to that of Reuben; and from incidental notices _in another part of the book_, we learn the position of the _tents_ of these men. The former was to the south of the central Tabernacle, or Tent of Meeting, on an inner line of tents, while the latter were also to the south, though on an outer line of tents. [Footnote 99: Num. 16; 2. 10, 17; 3. 29.] This explains how, when Moses was talking to Korah, he had to _send for_ Dathan and Abiram, and how next morning he left the central Tabernacle, where the men had assembled to offer incense, (and where they were afterwards destroyed, probably by lightning) and _went unto_ Dathan and Abiram (vv. 8-25). It explains how, later on, the _tents_ of Dathan and Abiram are twice mentioned, while that of the leading conspirator, Korah, is strangely omitted. It explains how the _families_ of these two were destroyed, though no mention is made of that of Korah; since the destruction was probably limited to the tents of Dathan and Abiram, who were brothers, and the small tabernacle they had erected alongside, and from which alone the people were told to _depart_ (vv. 26, 27). We may therefore conclude that Korah's _family_ was not destroyed, since their tent was at some distance. And this accounts for what some have thought to be a discrepancy in another passage, where we read that the _sons_ of Korah did not die; as well as for Dathan and Abiram, being mentioned alone later on.[100] In fact, the position of these tents is the key to the whole narrative, though we are left to discover it for ourselves. [Footnote 100: Num. 26. 11; Deut. 11. 6.] Now if the account is true and written by a contemporary, all is plain; for truth, as said before, is necessarily consistent. But if the story is a late fiction, all this agreement in various places is, to say the least, very remarkable. Can we imagine a writer of fiction _accidentally_ arranging these details in different parts of his book, which fit together so perfectly? Or can we imagine his doing so _intentionally_, and yet never hinting at the agreement himself, but leaving it so unapparent that not one reader in a thousand ever discovers it? This single instance may be taken as a sample of numerous others which have been noticed all through the Old Testament; and they certainly tend to show its accuracy. (2.) _Alleged mistakes._ We pass on now to the alleged mistakes in the Old Testament, and considering the long period covered, and the variety of subjects dealt with, and often the same subject by various writers, the number of even apparent discrepancies is not very great. And it is beyond dispute that many of these can be explained satisfactorily, and doubtless many others could be so, if our knowledge were more complete. Moreover, they are, as a rule, _numerical_ mistakes, such as the incredibly large numbers in some places,[101] and the rather discordant chronology in Kings and Chronicles. But the former may be due to some error in copying, and the latter to the different ways of counting a king's reign. [Footnote 101: Num. 26. 11; Deut. 11. 6.] The only mistake of any real importance refers to the large numbers of the Israelites, who are said to have left Egypt,--some 600,000 men, besides children, or probably over two million altogether. For on two subsequent occasions, when the census of the tribes is given, it totals up to about the same number.[102] This is no doubt a serious difficulty; as anyone can see, who will take the trouble to calculate the space they would require on the march, or in camp. If we assume, for instance, that they crossed the arm of the Red Sea in, say, _forty_ parallel columns, these would still have to be of enormous length to contain 50,000 persons each, with their flocks and herds. [Footnote 102: Exod. 12. 37. Num. 1. 26.] Perhaps the best explanation is that suggested by Professor Flinders Petrie, that the word translated _thousands_ should be _families_,[103] so that the tribe of Reuben, for instance,[104] instead of having forty-six _thousand_ five hundred men, would have forty-six _families_, (making about) five hundred men. The chief arguments in favour of this are, first, that the same word is used in Judges 6. 15, where it so obviously means family and not thousand, that it is so translated in both the Authorised and Revised Versions. [Footnote 103: Egypt and Israel, 1911, p. 43.] [Footnote 104: Num. 1. 21.] And secondly, it would account for the remarkable fact that though there were twelve tribes, and they were each counted twice, yet the number of the hundreds is never 0, 1, 8 or 9; but always one of the other six digits. It is extremely unlikely (practically incredible)[105] that this would occur in an ordinary census, but the proposed theory explains it at once. For the hundreds could scarcely be 0, or 1, as this would mean too few men in a family; or 8 or 9, which would mean too many; while the other digits always work out to what (allowing for servants) is a reasonable proportion, from 5 to 17. On this theory the number of men would be reduced to 5,600, which is much more intelligible. But some other passages scarcely seem capable of this interpretation, so it must be admitted that the number forms a difficulty, whatever view we adopt. [Footnote 105: The chance of its occurring would be only (6/10)^24 or less than 1 in 200,000.] (3.) _Modern discoveries._ Lastly, as to the effect of modern discoveries on the accuracy of the Old Testament. In the case of the Pentateuch, as we have seen, there is very little _direct_ evidence either way; but it is different in regard to some of the later books. In the first place, and this is very important, modern discoveries have shown that the period of Jewish history from the time of Moses onwards was distinctly _a literary age_. In Egypt, Babylonia, Syria, and elsewhere, it was the custom, and had been for centuries, to record all important events, at least all those that were creditable to the people concerned; so it is almost certain that the Jews, like the surrounding nations, had their historians. In every age conquerors have loved to record their conquests, and why should the Jews alone have been an exception? Yet the historical books of the Old Testament have no competitors. If, then, we deny that these are in the main a contemporary record, we must either assume that the Jews, unlike the surrounding nations, had no contemporary historians, which is most unlikely; as well as being contrary to the Books themselves, where the _recorders_ are frequently mentioned, even by name.[106] Or else we must assume that their works were replaced in later days by other and less reliable accounts, which were universally mistaken for the originals, and this seems equally improbable. [Footnote 106: _E.g._, 2 Sam. 8. 16; 2 Kings 18. 18; 2 Chron. 34. 8.] Passing on now to the evidence in detail, it may be divided into two classes, geographical and historical. In the first place the _geography_ of Palestine has been shown to be minutely accurate. But this does not prove the Old Testament Books to be genuine, but merely that they were written by Jews who knew the country intimately. It helps, however, in some cases to remove apparent difficulties. Thus the discoveries at Jericho, in 1908, have shown that the place was merely a small fortified hill, the length of the surrounding wall being about half a mile, so there was no difficulty in the Israelites walking round it seven times in the day.[107] And much the same may be said of the _historical_ notices. The monumental records of the Kings of Judah and Israel have not at present been discovered, but we can often check the history by the records of other countries. And these are as a rule in perfect agreement, not only as to the actual facts, but as to the society, customs, and state of civilisation, of the period. Indeed, in some cases where this was formerly disputed, as in the importance assigned to the _Hittites_, it has been fully justified by modern discoveries.[108] But this again does not prove the genuineness of the Books, though it certainly raises a probability in their favour. [Footnote 107: Josh. 6. 15.] [Footnote 108: 1 Kings 10. 29; 2 Kings 7. 6.] Sometimes, however, the evidence is stronger than this, one of the best known instances being Daniel's mention of _Belshazzar_.[109] He states that the last king of Babylon was Nebuchadnezzar's son, or grandson (margin, A.V.) called Belshazzar, who was slain at night when the city was captured (about B.C. 538). But according to Berosus, who wrote about the third century B.C., all this appears to be wrong. The last king of Babylon was a usurper called Nabonidus, and any such person as Belshazzar is quite unknown. And so matters remained till some cuneiform inscriptions were discovered at Mugheir in 1854. [Footnote 109: Dan. 5. 1.] From these it appears that Belshazzar was the eldest son of Nabonidus, and was apparently associated with him in the government. And an inscription recently found at Erech shows that this was the case for several years.[110] There is no proof that he ever had the title of _King_, unless he is the same as one _Mardukshazzar_, about this time (not otherwise identified), which is not unlikely, as we know Marduk was sometimes called _Bel_--_i.e._, Baal, or Lord. And another inscription, somewhat mutilated, seems to show that he was slain at Babylon in a night assault on the city (or some portion of it) as described by Daniel, some months after Nabonidus had been taken prisoner.[111] As to his relationship with Nebuchadnezzar perhaps his mother (or grandmother) was a royal princess. And there certainly seems to have been some connection between the families, as we know from the inscriptions that he had a brother called Nebuchadnezzar. [Footnote 110: Expository Times, April, 1915. Comp. Dan. 8. 1.] [Footnote 111: Transactions of Victoria Institute, vol. xxxviii., 1906, p. 28; vol. xlvi., 1914, p. 14.] Now, of course, if Daniel himself wrote the book, he would have known all about Belshazzar, however soon afterwards it was forgotten. But, if the book is a late fiction, written by a Jew in Palestine about B.C. 160, which is the rationalistic theory, as the wars between Egypt and Syria up to that date are clearly foretold, how did he know the name of Belshazzar at all, or anything about him, when such a person was unknown to previous historians? Plainly then, this is a distinct argument in favour of the contemporary date of the book.[112] [Footnote 112: It is worth noting that this rationalistic theory, which was generally accepted by the so-called Higher Critics, has now become so difficult to maintain in the face of archæology that Dr. Pinches, Lecturer in Assyriology at University College, London, said recently 'I am glad to think with regard to the Book of Daniel that the Higher Criticism is in fact buried.' Transactions of Victoria Institute, vol. xlix., 1917, p. 135.] And much the same may be said of Isaiah's mention of _Sargon_ of Assyria, who is stated to have taken Ashdod. Yet the very existence of such a king was unknown to secular history, till the last century; when his palace was discovered at Khorsabad, with inscriptions recording, among other things, his capture of Ashdod.[113] [Footnote 113: Isa. 20. 1. Orr's Problem of Old Test., 1906, p. 399.] Two other cases are of special interest, because the monuments seemed at first to show that the Bible was wrong. One of these refers to a so-called _Pul_, King of Assyria;[114] but when the list of Assyrian monarchs was discovered, no such king could be found. It looked like a serious discrepancy, and was even spoken of as 'almost the only important historical difficulty' between the Bible and the monuments.[115] But it has now been discovered that _Pulu_ was the original name of a usurper, who changed it to Tiglath Pileser III. on ascending the throne; though he was still sometimes called Pulu.[116] This not only removes the difficulty, but tends to show the early date of the narrative; for a late writer would probably have called him by his better-known name. [Footnote 114: 2 Kings 15. 19.] [Footnote 115: Rawlinson, Historical Illustrations of the Old Testament, 1871, p. 121.] [Footnote 116: Hastings, Dict. of the Bible, vol. iv., p. 761.] The other instance refers to _Jehu_, who is stated in the Assyrian inscriptions to be the son of Omri; though according to the Bible he was no relation whatever. But it has now been shown that the words translated _son of Omri_ may only mean _of the land or house of Omri_, which is a common Assyrian name for the kingdom of Israel.[117] [Footnote 117: Driver, Schweich Lecture, 1908, p. 17.] As a last example we will take the _dates_ given for the Fall of the two capital cities, Samaria and Jerusalem. These were calculated long ago (margin, A.V.) from a number of statements in the Bible, giving the lengths of different reigns, etc., at B.C. 721 and 588 respectively.[118] And now the inscriptions from Assyria and Babylonia fix the former at _B.C._ 722 and the latter at 586.[119] Everyone must admit that these are remarkable agreements, considering the way in which they have had to be calculated. [Footnote 118: 2 Kings 17. 6; 25. 3.] [Footnote 119: Hastings, Dict. of the Bible, vol. i., p. 401.] We have now briefly considered the Books of the Old Testament, both as to their _undesigned agreements_, which are very interesting; their _alleged mistakes_, which are unimportant; and the effect of _modern discoveries_, which has undoubtedly been to support their accuracy. What, then, is the value of the evidence they afford as to the history of the Jewish Religion having been confirmed by miracles? (_B._) THE OLD TESTAMENT MIRACLES. We will include under this term superhuman coincidences as well as miracles in the strict sense; and they occur all through the historical books of the Old Testament. A few of them have been already noticed in the last chapter, but we must now discuss them more fully, first considering whether they are credible, and then whether they are true. (1.) _Their credibility._ Now this can scarcely be disputed, _provided miracles at all are credible_, which we have already admitted, since scientific difficulties affect all miracles equally; and of course the Superhuman Coincidences have no difficulties of this kind whatever. Among these may be mentioned most of the Ten Plagues, the destruction of Korah, the falling of the walls of Jericho, probably due to an earthquake; the lightning which struck Elijah's sacrifice; and many others. The _Passage of the Red Sea_, for instance, almost certainly belongs to this class. The water, we are told, was driven back by a strong east wind, lasting all night; and this was doubtless due to natural forces, though, in common with other natural events (such as the growth of grass[120]), it is in the Bible ascribed to God. And the statement, _the waters were a wall unto them_, need not be pressed literally, so as to mean that they stood upright. It may only mean here, as it obviously does in some other cases, that the waters were a defence on each side, and secured them from flank attacks.[121] And as they must have advanced in several parallel columns, probably half a mile wide, this certainly seems the more likely view. [Footnote 120: Ps. 147. 8-9.] [Footnote 121: Exod. 14. 21, 22; Nahum 3. 8; 1 Sam. 25. 16.] And what makes it still more probable is that much the same thing occurred in this very neighbourhood in recent times. For in January, 1882, a large expanse of water, about 5 feet deep, near the Suez Canal, was exposed to such a strong gale (also from the east) that next morning it had been entirely driven away, and men were walking about on the mud, where the day before the fishing-boats had been floating.[122] Moreover, on this theory, the miracle would not lose any of its evidential value. For the fact of such a strip of dry land being formed just when and where the Israelites so much wanted it, and then being suddenly covered again, through the wind changing round to the west (which it must have done for the dead Egyptians to have been cast up on the _east_ side)[123], would be a coincidence far too improbable to be accidental. [Footnote 122: Transactions of Victoria Institute, vol. xxviii., 1894, p. 268. It is vouched for by Major-General Tulloch, who was there on duty at the time.] [Footnote 123: Exod. 14. 30.] Another well known miracle, which probably belongs to this class, is the _'silence' (or standing still) of the sun and moon_.[124] This is often thought to mean that the earth's rotation was stopped, so that the sun and moon apparently stood still. But a miracle on so vast a scale, was quite needless for the destruction of a few Canaanites, and there is another, and far better explanation. [Footnote 124: Josh. 10. 12-14.] It is that the miracle, instead of being one of prolonged light, the sun remaining visible after it should have set, was really one of prolonged _darkness_. The sun, which had been hidden by thick clouds, was just about to shine forth, when Joshua prayed to the Lord that it might be _silent_, _i.e._, remain obscured behind the clouds, which it did during the rest of the day. The Hebrew seems capable of either meaning. For the important word translated _stand still_ is literally _be silent_ (see margin), both in verses 12 and 13; and while this would be most suitable to the sun's remaining obscured by clouds during the day, it could scarcely be used of its continuing to shine at night. On the other hand, the rest of the passage seems to favour the ordinary view. But if we admit that this is what Joshua _prayed for_, that the sun and moon should remain _silent_ or obscured, the rest of the passage can only mean that this is what took place. And it may be mentioned that, as early as the fourteenth century, a Jewish writer Levi ben Gershon maintained that the words did not mean that the sun and moon literally _stood still_, or in any way altered their motion; though it is only fair to add that this was not the general view.[125] [Footnote 125: Numerous quotations are given in 'A Misunderstood Miracle,' by Rev. A. S. Palmer, 1887, pp. 103-107.] Moreover, even if the word did mean _stand still_, Joshua would only be likely to have asked for the sun and moon to stand still, if they were apparently _moving_. And they only move fast enough to be apparent when they are just coming out from behind a dense bank of clouds, due, of course, to the clouds really moving. And to _stand still_ in such a case, would mean to stay behind the clouds, and remain _obscured_, the same sense as before. And the words could then have had an _immediate_ effect; visible at once to all the people, which certainly seems implied in the narrative, and which would not have been the case on the ordinary view. Assuming, then, that either meaning is possible, a prolonged darkness is much the more probable for three reasons. To begin with, the miracle must have occurred in the early _morning_, Gibeon, where the sun was, being to the south _east_ of Beth-horon, the scene of the incident. And it is most unlikely that Joshua, with the enemy already defeated, and nearly all the day before him, should have wished to have it prolonged. Secondly, just _before_ the miracle there had been a very heavy thunderstorm, involving (as here required) thick clouds and a dark sky; and this is stated to have been the chief cause of the enemy's defeat. So Joshua is more likely to have asked for a continuance of this storm, _i.e._, for prolonged darkness, than for light. Thirdly, the moon is mentioned as well as the sun, and, if Joshua wanted darkness, both would have to be _silent_; but if he wanted light, the mention of the moon was quite unnecessary. On the whole, then, the miracle seems to have been a superhuman coincidence between a prayer of Joshua and an extraordinary and unique thunderstorm, which caused the sun to remain _silent_ or invisible all day. And if the Canaanites were sun-worshippers (as many think probable), it was most suitable that at the time of their great battle with the Israelites, the sun should have been obscured the whole day, and it naturally led to their utter confusion. Before passing on, we may notice two objections of a more general character, that are often made to the Jewish miracles. The first is that some of them were very _trivial_, such as Elisha's purifying the waters of Jericho, increasing the widow's oil, and making the iron axe-head to float;[126] and hence it is urged they are most improbable. And no doubt they would be so, if we regard them as mere acts of kindness to individual persons. But if we regard them as so many signs to the Israelites (and through them to the rest of the world), that Elisha was God's prophet; and that God was not a far-off God, but One Who knew about and cared about the every-day troubles of His people, they were certainly not inappropriate. Indeed, if this was the end in view, they were just the kind of miracles most likely to attain it. [Footnote 126: 2 Kings 2. 22; 4. 6; 6. 6.] The second and more important objection would destroy, or at least lessen, the value of all the miracles. They could not, it is urged, have really confirmed a revelation from God, since the same writers who describe them, also describe _other_ miracles, which, they say, were worked in opposition to God's agents. But if we exclude some doubtful cases, we have only one instance to judge by. It is that of the _magicians of Egypt_, who imitated some of the earlier miracles of Moses and Aaron; and here the inference is uncertain. For we are told that this was due to their _enchantments_ (or _secret arts_, margin R.V.), a term which might very possibly cover some feat of jugglery; as they knew beforehand what was wanted, and had time to prepare. While the fact that they tried and failed to imitate the next plague, which they frankly confessed was a Divine miracle, makes this a very probable solution.[127] [Footnote 127: Exod. 7. 11, 22; 8. 7, 18, 19.] We decide, then, that none of the Jewish miracles can be pronounced _incredible_; though some of them no doubt seem, at first sight, very improbable. (2.) _Their truthfulness._ Now, of course, the miracles vary greatly in evidential value, the following being eight of the most important: The destruction of Korah, Num. 16. The passage of the Jordan, Josh. 3. 14-17. The capture of Jericho, Josh. 6. 6-20. Elijah's sacrifice on Mount Carmel, 1 Kings 18. 17-40. The cure of Naaman's leprosy, 2 Kings 5. 10-27. The destruction of the Assyrian army, 2 Kings 19. 35. The shadow on the dial, 2 Kings 20. 8-11. The three men in the furnace, Dan. 3. 20-27. We will examine a couple of instances in detail and select first _Elijah's sacrifice on Mount Carmel_. This is said to have occurred on the most public occasion possible, before the King of Israel and thousands of spectators. And as a miracle, or rather _superhuman coincidence_, it presents no difficulty whatever. The lightning which struck the sacrifice was doubtless due to natural causes; yet, as before explained (Chapter VII.), this would not interfere with its evidential value. Moreover, it was avowedly a test case to definitely settle whether Jehovah was the true God or not. The nation, we learn, had long been in an undecided state. Some were worshippers of Jehovah, others of Baal; and these rival sacrifices were suggested for the express purpose of settling the point. So, if miracles at all are credible, there could not have been a more suitable occasion for one; while it was, for the time at least, thoroughly successful. All present were convinced that Jehovah was the true God, and, in accordance with the national law, the false prophets of Baal were immediately put to death. Now could any writer have described all this, even a century afterwards, if nothing of the kind had occurred? The event, if true, must have been well known, and remembered; and if untrue, no one living near the time and place would have thought of inventing it. And (what renders the argument still stronger) all this is stated to have occurred, not among savages, but among a fairly civilised nation and in a literary age. Next as to _the destruction of the Assyrian army_. Here it will be remembered that when Sennacherib came to attack Jerusalem, he publicly, and in the most insulting manner, defied the God of Israel to deliver the city out of his hand (probably about B.C. 701).[128] We then read how Isaiah declared that God accepted the challenge, and would defend Jerusalem, and would not allow it to be destroyed. '_I will defend this city to save it, for mine own sake, and for my servant David's sake._' And the sacredness of the city is very strongly insisted on. [Footnote 128: 2 Kings 18. 28-35; 19. 10, 34.] Now it is inconceivable that this could have been written after Jerusalem had been captured by Nebuchadnezzar in _B.C._ 598; though there is no real inconsistency in God's preserving the city in the one case, and not in the other. For Nebuchadnezzar is always represented as being, though unconsciously, God's servant in punishing the Jews; while Sennacherib openly defied Jehovah. Then comes the sudden destruction of the Assyrian army, probably by pestilence;[129] and the extreme fitness of this, after Sennacherib's challenge, must be obvious to everyone. Moreover, such a very public event, if untrue, could not have been recorded till long afterwards; yet, as we have seen, the narrative could not have been written long afterwards. Sennacherib does not of course allude to it himself in his inscriptions, for kings never like to record their own defeats; but this is no reason for doubting that it occurred, especially as it is confirmed by the Babylonian historian Berosus.[130] And even Sennacherib himself, though he mentions the campaign, and says that he shut up Hezekiah in Jerusalem, never claims to have taken the city. [Footnote 129: Comp. 2 Kings 19. 35; 1 Chron. 21. 12.] [Footnote 130: Quoted by Josephus, Antiq. x. 1.] We need not examine the other miracles in detail, since the argument is much the same in every case. They are all said to have occurred on important and critical occasions when, if we admit miracles at all, they would be most suitable. They are all said to have been _public_ miracles, either actually worked before crowds of persons, or else so affecting public men that their truth or otherwise must have been well-known at the time. And they were all of such a kind that any mistake or fraud as to their occurrence was out of the question. It is, then, on the face of it, most unlikely that miracles, _such as these_, should have been recorded unless they were true. Indeed, if the Old Testament books were written by contemporaries, or even within a century of the events they relate, it is very difficult to deny their occurrence. We decide, therefore, that the _history_ of the Jewish Religion was _confirmed by miracles_. CHAPTER XI. THAT ITS HISTORY WAS CONFIRMED BY PROPHECIES. (_A._) GENERAL PROPHECIES. Three examples considered: (1.) The desolation of Assyria and Babylonia. (2.) The degradation of Egypt. (3.) The dispersion of the Jews, including the Roman siege of Jerusalem. (_B._) SPECIAL PROPHECIES. List of eight important ones: a single example, the destruction of Jerusalem by the Babylonians considered in detail; some general remarks. (_C._) CONCLUSION. The cumulative nature of the evidence. We pass on now to the Jewish Prophecies. It should be explained at starting that the word _prophecy_ is used here in the sense of _prediction_; and not as it often is, in the Bible, to include various kinds of teaching. And the prophecies may be divided into two classes, general and special. (_A._) GENERAL PROPHECIES. We will consider the General Prophecies first, the most important of which concern the Jews themselves, and their great neighbours Assyria and Babylonia, on the one hand, and Egypt on the other. All these nations had existed for centuries, and there was nothing to indicate what was to be their future; yet the prophets foretold it, and with remarkable accuracy. (1.) _The desolation of Assyria and Babylonia._ And first as to Assyria and Babylonia. The future of these countries was to be utter _desolation_. The kingdoms were to be destroyed, the land was to become a wilderness, and the cities to be entirely forsaken. We read repeatedly that they were to be desolate _for ever_; and though this cannot be pressed as meaning literally for all eternity, it certainly implies a long duration.[131] A single passage referring to each may be quoted at length. [Footnote 131: Isa. 13. 19-22; 14. 22, 23; Jer. 50. 13, 39, 40; 51. 26, 37, 43; Nahum 3. 7; Zeph. 2. 13-14.] Thus Zephaniah says of Assyria, 'And he will stretch out his hand against the north, and destroy Assyria; and will make Nineveh a desolation, and dry like the wilderness. And herds shall lie down in the midst of her, all the beasts of the nations; both the pelican and the porcupine shall lodge in the chapiters thereof [the capitals of the fallen columns]: their voice shall sing in the windows; desolation shall be in the thresholds: for he hath laid bare the cedar work.' And Isaiah says of Babylon, 'And Babylon, the glory of kingdoms, the beauty of the Chaldean's pride, shall be as when God overthrew Sodom and Gomorrah. It shall never be inhabited, neither shall it be dwelt in from generation to generation; neither shall the Arabian pitch tent there; neither shall shepherds make their flocks to lie down there. But wild beasts of the desert shall lie there; and their houses shall be full of doleful creatures; and ostriches shall dwell there, and satyrs [or goats] shall dance there. And wolves shall cry in their castles, and jackals in the pleasant palaces: and her time is near to come, and her days shall not be prolonged.' It seems needless to comment on prophecies so plain and straightforward. Nor need we insist at any length on their exact fulfilment; it is obvious to everyone. For two thousand years history has verified them. The utter desolation of these countries is without a parallel: the empires have vanished, the once populous land is deserted, and the cities are heaps of ruins, often the dens of wild beasts,--lions, hyænas, and jackals having all been seen among the ruins of Babylon. In short, the prophecies have been fulfilled in a manner which is, to say the least, very remarkable. (2.) _The degradation of Egypt._ Next as to Egypt. The future foretold of this country was not desolation but _degradation_. Ezekiel tells us it was to become a _base kingdom_, and he adds, 'It shall be the basest of the kingdoms; neither shall it any more lift itself up above the nations: and I will diminish them, that they shall no more rule over the nations.'[132] And here also prophecy has been turned into history. The permanent degradation of Egypt is a striking fact which cannot be disputed. When the prophets wrote, Egypt had on the whole been a powerful and independent kingdom for some thousands of years: but it has never been so since. Persians, Greeks, Romans, Byzantine Greeks, Saracens, Memlooks, Turks, and we may now add British, have in turn been its masters; but it has been the master of no one. It has never more _ruled over the nations_ as it used to do for so many centuries. Its history in this respect has been unique--an unparalleled period of prosperity followed by an unparalleled period of degradation. [Footnote 132: Ezek. 29. 15.] With such an obvious fulfilment of the main prophecy, it seems needless to insist on any of its details, though some of these are sufficiently striking. Thus, we are told, _Her cities shall be in the midst of the cities that are wasted_.[133] And though it is doubtful to what period this refers, no more accurate description can be given of the present cities of Egypt, such as Cairo, than that they are in the midst of the cities that are wasted, such as Memphis, Bubastis, and Tanis. While a few verses farther on we read, _There shall be no more a prince out of the land of Egypt_; yet, when this passage was written, there had been independent Egyptian sovereigns, off and on, from the very dawn of history. But there have been none since. Stress, however, is not laid on details like these, some of which are admittedly obscure, such as the forty years' desolation of the land with the scattering of its inhabitants;[134] but rather on the broad fact that Egypt was not to be destroyed like Assyria and Babylonia, but to be _degraded_, and that this has actually been its history. [Footnote 133: Ezek. 30. 7, 13.] [Footnote 134: Ezek. 29. 11-13.] (3.) _The dispersion of the Jews._ Lastly, as to the Jews. Their future was to be neither desolation, nor degradation, but _dispersion_. This is asserted over and over again. They were to be scattered among the nations, and dispersed through the countries; to be wanderers among the nations; sifted among all nations; tossed to and fro among all the kingdoms of the earth; and scattered among all peoples from one end of the earth even unto the other end of the earth.[135] [Footnote 135: Ezek. 22. 15; Hos. 9. 17; Amos 9. 9; Deut. 28. 25, 64; see also Deut. 4. 27; Neh. 1. 8; Jer. 9. 16.] Moreover, in their dispersion they were to be subjected to continual _suffering_ and _persecution_. They were to become a proverb, and a byword among all people. Their curses were to be upon them, for a sign and for a wonder, and upon their seed for ever. They were to have a yoke of iron upon their necks; and to have the sword drawn out after them in all lands, etc. Yet, in spite of all this, they were not to be absorbed into other nations, but to remain _distinct_. They and their seed _for ever_ were to be a separate people, a sign and a wonder at all times; and God would never make a full end of _them_, as He would of the nations among whom they were scattered. Indeed heaven and earth were to pass away, rather than the Jews cease to be a distinct people.[136] [Footnote 136: Deut. 28. 37, 46, 48; Lev. 26. 33; Jer. 24. 9; 29. 18; 30. 11; 31. 35-37.] And here again history has exactly agreed with prophecy. The fate of the Jews, since the destruction of Jerusalem in A.D. 70, has actually been _dispersion_, and this to an extent which is quite unique. It has been combined, moreover, with incessant suffering and persecution, yet they have always remained a separate people. The Jews are still everywhere, though the Jewish nation is nowhere. They are present in all countries, but with a home in none, having been literally _scattered among the nations_. We will now examine a single passage in detail, and select the latter part of Deut. 28. The whole chapter is indeed full of prophecies as to the future condition of the Jews, some of which seem to point to the Babylonian captivity, (_e.g._, v. 36); but after this we come to another and final catastrophe in v. 49. This evidently begins a fresh subject, which is continued without a break till the end of the chapter. And it is specially interesting because, not only is the world-wide dispersion of the Jews, and their continual sufferings, clearly foretold; but also the _previous war_ which led up to it. We have, as is well known, a full account of this in the history of Josephus, and as he never alludes to the prophecy himself (except in the most general terms), his evidence is above suspicion. Ver. 49. First of all the conquerors themselves are described as a nation _from far, from the end of the earth, as the eagle flieth, a nation whose tongue thou shalt not understand_, etc. And this is very applicable to the Romans, whose general, Vespasian, had come from Britain, and their troops from various countries, who had the eagle as their standard, and whose language, Latin, was unknown to most of the Jews. 50. And the merciless way in which these fierce warriors were to spare neither old nor young was painfully true in their treatment of the Jews. 51. And they also of course destroyed or confiscated their property. 52. Then the war is foretold as one of _sieges_ (he shall _besiege_ thee in all thy gates), rather than of open battles. And this was certainly the case, since a large number of towns, including Jotapata, Gamala, Masada, and Jerusalem itself, suffered terrible sieges. And these were to be continued _till the high walls came down_, which is very appropriate to the Roman battering rams that were actually used at all these places. 53. Then we have the dreadful famine, due to the severity (or _straitness_) of the siege, evidently the great siege, that of Jerusalem. This is strongly insisted on, being repeated three times, and it was to drive the wretched inhabitants to cannibalism of the most revolting kind, which it actually did. 54. It was also to lead to considerable strife _within the city_; even between members of the same family. And this, though by no means common in all sieges, was abundantly fulfilled in the case of Jerusalem. 55. And they were to grudge their nearest relatives a morsel of food; which again exactly agrees with Josephus, who says that parents would fight with their own children for pieces of food. 56. And all this was to be the fate, not only of the poor; but, what is very remarkable, and perhaps unique in the world's history, of the _wealthy_ also. It was even to include one instance at least (perhaps several) of a lady of high position. She is described as not _setting her foot upon the ground_; which means that she was accustomed to be carried about in a chair, or ride on an ass; and was therefore rich enough to buy anything that could be bought. 57. And she was to _eat her own children secretly_. Here was the climax of their sufferings. Yet this very detail, so unlikely to have occurred, and so unlikely to have been discovered if it did occur (as it was to be done secretly), is fully confirmed by Josephus. For he mentions one instance that actually was discovered, in which a lady _eminent for her family and wealth_ (Mary, the daughter of Eleazar) had secretly eaten half her own child.[137] [Footnote 137: Wars, vi. 3.] 58. And these miseries were to come upon the Jews for their disobedience of God's laws; and again Josephus says that their wickedness at this time was so great that if the Romans had not destroyed their city, he thinks it would have been swallowed up by the earth.[138] [Footnote: 138: Wars, v. 13.] 59. Moreover, the plagues of themselves, and of their seed, were to be _wonderful, even great plagues, and of long continuance_. And no one who has read the account of the siege, and the subsequent treatment of the Jews, will think the description at all exaggerated. 60. And the people are specially threatened with _the diseases of Egypt, which thou wast afraid of_, and this, as said in Chapter IX., implies that the passage was written soon after the people left Egypt, and therefore centuries before any siege or dispersion. 61. And it was to end, as it actually did end, in the destruction of the nation, _until thou be destroyed_. 62. While the Jews that survived were to be left comparatively _few in number_; which was certainly the case, even allowing that the statement of Josephus that 600,000 perished in the siege may be an exaggeration. 63. And these were to be forcibly expelled from the land of Canaan, which they were just about to conquer. And they actually were so expelled by the Romans, partly after this war, and still more so after their rebellion in A.D. 134, when for many centuries scarcely any Jews were allowed to live in their own country, an event probably unique in history. 64. But instead of being taken away to a single nation, as at the Babylonian captivity, they were now to be scattered over the whole world, _among all peoples, from one end of the earth, even unto the other end of the earth_. And how marvellously this has been fulfilled is obvious to everyone. No mention is made of a _king_ here, as in ver. 36; so while that suits the Babylonian captivity, this suits the later dispersion, though in each case there is a reference to their serving other gods, for which it must be admitted there is very little evidence. 65. Then we have the further _sufferings_ that the Jews were to undergo in their dispersion. Among these nations they were to find _no ease, nor rest for the sole of their foot_, but were to have _a trembling heart, and failing of eyes, and pining of soul_. And here, again, the event is as strange as the prophecy. Nowhere else shall we find a parallel to it. For centuries the Jews were not only persecuted, but were often expelled from one country to another, so that they found _no rest_ anywhere, but were driven from city to city, and from kingdom to kingdom. 66. And their life was to hang in doubt night and day; 67. And they were to be in a continual state of fear and alarm; all of which was completely fulfilled. 68. Lastly, we read, that some of the Jews, instead of being dispersed, were to be _brought to Egypt again with ships_, and to be in bondage there. And this also came true, after the siege, when many of the Jews were sold for slaves, and sent to the mines in Egypt, probably in slave ships. Everyone must admit that the agreement all through is very remarkable; in fact, the prophecies about the dispersion of the Jews--and we have only examined a single instance in detail--are even more striking than those about the desolation of Assyria and Babylonia, or the degradation of Egypt. And to fully realise their importance, let us suppose that anyone _now_ were to foretell the future of three great nations, saying that one was to be utterly destroyed, and the land desolated; another to sink to be a base kingdom; and the third to be conquered and its inhabitants forcibly expelled, and scattered over the whole world. What chance would there be of any one of the prophecies (leave alone all three) coming true, and _remaining true for two thousand years_? Yet this would be but a similar case. What conclusion, then, must be drawn from all these prophecies, so clear in their general meaning, so distinctive in their character, so minute in many of their details, so unlikely at the time they were written, and yet one and all so exactly fulfilled? There appear to be only three alternatives. Either they must have been random _guesses_, which certainly seems incredible. Or else they must have been due to deep _foresight_ on the part of the writers, which seems equally so; for the writers had had no experience of the permanent desolation of great empires like Assyria and Babylonia, while as to the fate of Egypt and the Jews themselves, history afforded no parallel. Or else, lastly, the writers must have had _revealed_ to them what the future of these nations would be; in which case, and in which case alone, all is plain. (_B._) SPECIAL PROPHECIES. We pass on now to the Special Prophecies. These are found all through the Old Testament, the following being eight of the most important. The fact that David's throne should always be held by his descendants, _i.e._, till the captivity, about 450 years;[139] and its fulfilment is specially remarkable when contrasted with the rival kingdom of Samaria, where the dynasty changed eight or nine times in 250 years. [Footnote 139: 2 Sam. 7. 12-16; 1 Kings 9. 4, 5.] The division of the kingdom into ten and two tribes, evidently announced at the time, since Jeroboam had to go away in consequence, and apparently the reason why the rebels were not attacked.[140] [Footnote 140: 1 Kings 11. 31, 40; 12. 24.] The destruction, rebuilding, and final destruction of the Temple; the first of these prophecies being made so publicly that it caused quite a commotion, and nearly cost the prophet his life.[141] [Footnote 141: Jer. 26. 8-16; Isa. 44. 28; Dan. 9. 26.] The destruction of the altar at Bethel, which was set up as a rival to that at Jerusalem; publicly announced some centuries before, including the name of the destroyer.[142] [Footnote 142: 1 Kings 13. 2; 2 Kings 23. 15, 16.] The destruction of Israel by the Assyrians.[143] [Footnote 143: 1 Kings 14. 15; Isa. 8. 4.] The destruction of Jerusalem by the Babylonians.[144] [Footnote 144: 2 Kings 20. 17.] The captivity of the Jews, including its duration of seventy years, their most unlikely restoration, and the name of the restorer.[145] [Footnote 145: Jer. 29. 10; Isa. 44. 28.] The wars between Syria and Egypt.[146] [Footnote 146: Dan. 11.] We will examine a single instance in detail, and select that referring to the _destruction of Jerusalem_ by the Babylonians, as this is connected with one of the miracles mentioned in the last chapter, _the shadow on the dial_. Now, it will be remembered that, on one occasion, the Jewish King Hezekiah was seriously ill, and on being told of his unexpected recovery, he naturally asked for a _sign_. And then in accordance with his demand the shadow on his dial went back ten _steps_.[147] [Footnote 147: 2 Kings 20. 8-11 (margin, R.V.); Isa. 38. 8.] This _dial_ was evidently a flight of steps, with some object on the top, perhaps an obelisk, which threw a shadow on a gradually increasing number of these as the sun set. And a sudden vibration of the ground, due perhaps to an earthquake, and causing the obelisk to slope to one side, would quite account for the shadow _going backward_, and leaving some of the steps which it had covered. And the narrative certainly implies that the effect was sudden, and apparently limited to this one dial. It seems, however, to have attracted considerable attention; since messengers came from Babylon to _enquire about it_, and to congratulate the King on his recovery.[148] And if the sloping obelisk, and perhaps broken steps, were still visible, this would be much more natural than if there was nothing left for them to see. Though in any case, as they called it the wonder that was done _in the land_, it evidently was not noticed elsewhere, and must have been due to some local cause. And we may ask, how could any writer have asserted all this, even a century afterwards, if no such sign had occurred? [Footnote 148: 2 Chron. 32. 24, 31.] We are then told that Hezekiah showed these messengers all his treasures, which leads up to the _prophecy_ that the treasures should be carried away and Jerusalem destroyed by these very Babylonians. This is introduced in the most natural way possible, as a rebuke to the king for his proud display; and it is difficult to consider it a later insertion. Yet the event could not have been humanly foreseen. For Babylon was then but a comparatively small and friendly nation, shortly to be absorbed into Assyria (in B.C. 689), and only when it regained its independence nearly a century later did it become strong enough to cause any fear to the Jews. We need not discuss the other prophecies at length, since that they all refer to the events in question is generally admitted. Indeed, in some cases, owing to the mention of names and details, it can scarcely be denied. Therefore those who disbelieve in prophecy have no alternative but to say that they were all written _after the event_. At this lapse of time it is difficult to prove or disprove such a statement. But it must be remembered that to say that any apparent prophecies were written after the event is not merely to destroy their superhuman character, and bring them down to the level of ordinary writings, but far below it. For ordinary writings do not contain wilful falsehoods, yet every pretended prophecy written after the event cannot possibly be regarded in any other light. The choice then lies between _real prophecies_ and _wilful forgeries_. There is no other alternative. And bearing this in mind, we must ask, is it likely that men of such high moral character as the Jewish prophets would have been guilty of such gross imposture? Is it likely that, if guilty of it, they would have been able to pass it off successfully on the whole nation? And is it likely that they would have had any sufficient motive to induce them to make the attempt? Moreover, many of these prophecies are stated to have been made _in public_, and to have been talked about, and well known long before their fulfilment. And it is hard to see how this could have been asserted unless it was the case, or how it could have been the case unless they were superhuman. It should also be noticed that in Deuteronomy the occurrence of some definite and specified event is given as the _test_ of a prophet, and one of the later prophets (Isaiah) appeals to this very test. For he challenges the false prophets to foretell future events, and repeatedly declares that this was the mark of a true prophet.[149] And it is inconceivable that men should thus court defeat by themselves proposing a test which would have shown that they were nothing more than impostors. Yet this would have been the case if all their so-called prophecies had been written after the events. [Footnote 149: Deut. 18. 22; Isa. 41. 22; 44. 8; 48. 3-5; see also Deut. 13. 1-3.] (_C._) CONCLUSION. In concluding this chapter, we must notice the _cumulative nature_ of the evidence. The prophecies we have referred to, like the miracles in the last chapter, are but specimens, a few out of many which might be given. This is very important, and its bearing on our present argument is naturally twofold. In the first place, it does not increase, and in some respects rather decreases, the difficulty of believing them to be true, for thirty miracles or prophecies, provided they occur on suitable occasions, are scarcely more difficult to believe than three. And the number recorded in the Old Testament shows that, instead of being mere isolated marvels, they form a complete series. Their object was to instruct the Jews, and through them the rest of the world, in the great truths of Natural Religion, such as the existence of One Supreme God, Who was shown to be _All-Powerful_ by the miracles, _All-Wise_ by the prophecies, and _All-Good_ by His rewarding and punishing men and nations alike for their deeds. And when we thus regard them as confirming a Revelation, which was for the benefit of the whole human race, they lose a good deal of their improbability. Indeed many who now believe Natural Religion alone, and reject all revelation, would probably never have believed even this, but for the Bible. On the other hand, the number and variety of these alleged events greatly increases the difficulty of any _other_ explanation; for thirty miracles or prophecies are far more difficult to _disbelieve_ than three. A successful fraud might take place once, but not often. An imitation miracle might be practised once, but not often. Spurious prophecies might be mistaken for genuine once, but not often. Yet, if none of these events are true, such frauds and such deceptions must have been practised, and practised successfully, over and over again. In fact, the Old Testament must be a collection of the most dishonest books ever written, for it is full of miracles and prophecies from beginning to end; and it is hard to exaggerate the immense _moral_ difficulty which this involves. Many of the Jewish prophets, as before said, teach the highest moral virtues; and the Jewish religion, especially in its later days, is admittedly of high moral character. It seems, then, to be almost incredible that its sacred writings should be merely a collection of spurious prophecies uttered after the event, and false miracles which never occurred. We therefore decide in this chapter that the _history_ of the Jewish religion _was confirmed by prophecies_. CHAPTER XII. THAT THE JEWISH RELIGION IS PROBABLY TRUE. Only two subjects remain to be discussed. (_A._) THE EXISTENCE OF ANGELS. No difficulty here, nor as to their influence. (_B._) THE CHARACTER OF GOD. The Jewish idea of God often thought to be defective. (1.) Its partiality; but any revelation must be more or less partial. (2.) Its human element; we must, however, use analogies of some kind when speaking of God, and human analogies are the least inappropriate. (3.) Its moral defects; since God is shown as approving of wicked men, ordering wicked deeds, and sanctioning wicked customs; but these difficulties are not so great as they seem. (4.) Its general excellence. On the other hand, the Jews firmly believed in Monotheism, and had the highest mental and moral conception of God; so that their God was the true God, the God of Natural Religion. (_C._) CONCLUSION. Four further arguments; the Jewish Religion is probably true. We have been considering in the previous chapters several strong arguments in favour of the Jewish Religion; and before concluding we must of course notice _any_ adverse arguments which we have not already dealt with. The only two of any importance refer to the Existence of Angels, and the Character ascribed to God; so we will consider these first, and then conclude with some general remarks. (_A._) THE EXISTENCE OF ANGELS. Now the Old Testament always takes for granted the existence and influence of angels, yet at the present day this is often thought to be a difficulty. But as to the mere _existence_ of angels, there is no difficulty whatever. For the whole analogy of nature would teach us that since there are numerous beings in the scale of life below man, so there would be some beings above man--that is to say, between him and the Supreme Being. And this is rendered still more probable when we reflect on the small intervals there are in the descending scale, and the immense interval there would be in the ascending scale if man were the next highest being in the universe to God. And that these higher beings should be entirely _spiritual_, _i.e._, without material bodies, and therefore beyond scientific discovery, is not improbable. Indeed, considering that man's superiority to lower beings lies in this very fact of his having a partly spiritual nature, the idea that higher beings may be entirely spiritual is even probable. And though it is difficult for us to imagine how angels can see, or hear without a material body, it is really no more difficult than imagining how we can do it with a body. Take for instance the case of seeing. Neither the eye nor the brain sees, they are mere collections of molecules of matter, and how can a molecule see anything? It is the _man himself_, the _personal being_, who in some mysterious way sees by means of both eyes and brain; and for all we know he might see just as well without them. And the same applies in other cases. Then that angels should have as great, if not greater, intellectual and moral faculties than man seems certain; otherwise they would not be higher beings at all. And this necessitates their having _free will_, with the option of choosing good or evil. And that, like men, some should choose one, and some the other, seems equally probable. Hence the _existence_ of both good and evil angels presents no difficulty. And that the good angels should have a leader, or captain (called in the Old Testament, Michael), and that the evil angels should have one too (called Satan) is only what we should expect. Next, as to their _influence_. Now that good angels should wish to influence men for good, and might occasionally be employed by God for that purpose, scarcely seems improbable. While, on the other hand, that evil angels should wish to act, as evil men act, in tempting others to do wrong, is again only what we should expect. And that God should allow them to do so is no harder to believe than that He should allow evil men to do the same. It may still be objected however that we have no actual _evidence_ as to the influence of angels at the present day. But this is at least doubtful. For what evidence could we expect to have? We could not expect to have any physical sensation, or anything capable of scientific investigation, for angels, if they exist at all, are spiritual beings. If, then, they were to influence man, say, by tempting him to do evil, all we could know would be the sudden presence of some evil thought in our minds, without, as far as we could judge, any previous cause for it. And who will assert that this is an unknown experience? Yet if it is known, does it not constitute all the proof we could expect of the action of an evil spirit? And of course the same applies to good spirits. There is thus no difficulty as to the existence, and influence of angels. (_B._) THE CHARACTER OF GOD. We pass on now to the Character ascribed to God in the Old Testament, first considering its difficulties, under the three heads of its _partiality_, its _human element_, and its _moral defects_; and then what can be said on the other side as to its _general excellence_. (1.) _Its partiality._ The objection here is that God is the just God of all mankind, and it is therefore incredible that He should have selected a single nation like the Jews to be His special favourites, more particularly as His alleged attempt to make them a holy people proved such a hopeless failure. While it is further urged that the very fact of the Jews believing Jehovah to be their special God shows that they regarded Him as a mere national God, bearing the same relation to themselves as the gods of other nations did to them. But, as said in Chapter VI., any revelation implies a certain _partiality_ to the men or nation to whom it is given; though it is not on that account incredible. And there is certainly no reason why the Jews should not have been the nation chosen, and some slight reason why they should; for their ancestor Abraham was not selected without a cause. He did, partly at least, deserve it, since, judging by the only accounts we have, he showed the most perfect obedience to God in his willingness to sacrifice Isaac. It must also be remembered that God's so-called partiality to the Jews did not imply any indulgence to them in the sense of overlooking their faults. On the contrary, He is represented all along as blaming and punishing them, just as much as other nations, for their sins. Next, as to God's purpose in regard to the Jews having been a _failure_. This is only partly true. No doubt they were, on the whole, a sinful nation; but they were not worse than, or even so bad as, the nations around them; it was only the fact of their being the chosen race that made their sins so serious. They had free will, just as men have now; and if they chose to misuse their freedom and act wrong, that was not God's fault. Moreover, the Jewish nation was not selected merely for its own sake, but for the sake of all mankind; as is expressly stated at the very commencement, '_In thee shall all the families of the earth be blessed_.'[150] Thus God did not select the Jews, and reject other nations; but He selected the Jews in order that through them He might bless other nations. The religious welfare of the whole world was God's purpose from the beginning; and the Jews were merely the means chosen for bringing it about. And to a great extent the purpose has been fulfilled; for however sinful the nation may have been, they preserved and handed on God's revelation, and the Old Testament remains, and will always remain, as a permanent and priceless treasure of religion. [Footnote 150: Gen. 12. 3.] The last part of the objection may be dismissed at once. For if the Jews regarded Jehovah as their special God, it was merely because He had specially _selected_ them to be His people. He must therefore have had a power of choice, and might, if He pleased, have selected some other nation, so He could not have been a mere national God, but the God of all nations with power to select among them. And this is distinctly asserted by many of the writers.[151] [Footnote 151: _E.g._, Exod. 19. 5; Deut. 32. 8; 2 Chron. 20. 6; Isa. 37. 16.] We conclude, then, that God's so-called partiality to the Jews does not, when carefully considered, form a great difficulty. To put it shortly, if a revelation is given at all, some individuals must be selected to receive it; if it is given gradually (and God's methods in nature are always those of gradual development) these men would probably belong to a single nation; and if one nation had to be selected, there is no reason why the Jews should not have been the one chosen. While, if they were selected for the purpose of handing on God's revelation to the world at large, the purpose has been completely successful. (2.) _Its human element._ The next difficulty, is that the Jewish idea of God was thoroughly _human_, the Deity being represented as a great _Man_, with human form, feelings, attributes, and imperfections. Thus He has hands and arms, eyes and ears; He is at times glad or sorry, angry or jealous; He moves about from place to place; and sometimes repents of what He has done, thus showing, it is urged, a want of foresight, on His part. And all this is plainly inconsistent with the character of the immaterial, omnipresent, omniscient God of Nature. The answer to this objection is twofold. In the first place, we must of necessity use analogies of some kind when speaking of God, and _human_ analogies are not only the easiest to understand, but are also the least inappropriate, since, as we have shown, man resembles God in that he is a personal and moral being. Therefore likening God to man is not so degrading as likening Him to mere natural forces. Such expressions, then, must always be considered as descriptions drawn from human analogies, which must not be pressed literally. While, secondly, it is plain that the Jewish writers themselves so understood them, for they elsewhere describe the Deity in the most exalted language, as will be shown later on. And this is strongly confirmed by the remarkable fact that the Jews, unlike other ancient nations, had no material idol or representation of their God. Inside both the tabernacle and the temple there was the holy of holies with the mercy seat, but no one sat on it. An empty throne was all that the shrine contained. Their Jehovah was essentially an invisible God, who could not be represented by any human or other form; and this alone seems a sufficient answer to the present objection. (3.) _Its moral defects._ Lastly as to the supposed moral defects in God's Character. The three most important are that God is frequently represented as approving of wicked men, as ordering wicked deeds, and even in His own laws as sanctioning wicked customs. We will consider these points in turn. And first as to God's _approving of wicked men_; that is, of men who committed the greatest crimes, such as Jacob and David. This is easily answered, since approving of a man does not mean approving of _everything_ he does. The case of David affords a convincing example of this; for though he is represented as a man after God's own heart, yet we are told that God was so extremely displeased with one of his acts that He punished him for it severely, in causing his child to die. In the same way no one supposes that God approved of Jacob because of his treachery, but in spite of it; and even in his treachery, he was only carrying out (and with apparent reluctance) the orders of his mother.[152] Moreover, in estimating a man's character, his education and surroundings have always to be taken into account. And if the conduct of one man living in an immoral age is far better than that of his contemporaries, he may be worthy of praise, though similar conduct at the present day might not deserve it. [Footnote 152: Gen. 27. 8-13.] And if it be asked what there was in the character of these men, and many others, to counterbalance their obvious crimes, the answer is plain; it was their intense belief in the spiritual world. The existence of One Supreme God, and their personal responsibility to Him, were realities to them all through life; so, in spite of many faults, they still deserved to be praised. Next as to God's _ordering wicked deeds_. In all cases of this kind it is important to distinguish between a man's personal acts, and his official ones. At the present day the judge who condemns a criminal, and the executioner who hangs him are not looked upon as murderers. And the same principle applies universally. Now in the Old Testament the Jews are represented as living under the immediate rule of God. Therefore when a man, or body of men, had to be punished for their crimes, He commanded some prophet or king, or perhaps the whole people, to carry out the sentence. And of course, if they failed to do so they were blamed, just as we should blame a hangman at the present day who failed to do his duty. Thus, in the case of _destroying the Canaanites_, which is the instance most often objected to, the people were told, in the plainest terms, that they were only acting as God's ministers, and that if they became as bad as the Canaanites, who were a horribly polluted race, God would have them destroyed as well.[153] [Footnote 153: _E.g._, Lev. 18. 21-28; Deut. 9. 5.] A more serious objection is that God is occasionally represented as if He Himself _caused_ men to do wrong, such as His _hardening Pharaoh's heart_.[154] But, as we shall see later on, the Bible often speaks of everything that occurs, whether good or evil, as being, in a certain sense, God's doing. And since the writer asserts more than once that Pharaoh hardened his own heart, there can be little doubt that he intended the two expressions to mean the same. Indeed the whole narrative represents Pharaoh as extremely obstinate in the matter, refusing to listen even to his own people.[155] [Footnote 154: _E.g._, Exod. 14. 4.] [Footnote 155: Exod. 8. 15, 32; 9. 34; 10. 3, 7.] Thirdly, as to God's _sanctioning wicked customs_. The most important is that of _human sacrifice_; but it is very doubtful whether the passages relied on do sanction this custom;[156] since it is clearly laid down elsewhere that the firstborn of _men_ are never to be sacrificed, but are always to be redeemed.[157] Moreover human sacrifices among other nations are strongly condemned, in one passage Jehovah expressly saying that they were not to be offered to Him.[158] It is, however, further urged that we have two actual instances of such sacrifices in regard to _Isaac_ and _Jephthah_.[159] But Jephthah had evidently no idea when he made his vow that it would involve the sacrifice of his daughter; and there is nothing to show that it was in any way acceptable to God. [Footnote 156: Exod. 22. 29, 30; Lev. 27. 28, 29.] [Footnote 157: Exod. 13. 13; 34. 20; Num. 18. 15.] [Footnote 158: Deut. 12. 31.] [Footnote 159: Gen. 22; Judg. 11. 39.] In the case of _Isaac_ we have the one instance in which God did order a human sacrifice; but then He specially intervened to prevent the order from being carried out. And the whole affair, the command and the counter-command, must of course be taken together. It was required to test Abraham's faith to the utmost, therefore as he most valued his son, he was told to offer him. And since children were then universally regarded as property, and at the absolute disposal of their parents, human sacrifices being by no means uncommon, the command, however distressing to his heart, would have formed no difficulty to his conscience. But when his faith was found equal to the trial, God intervened, as He had of course intended doing all along, to prevent Isaac from being actually slain. With regard to the other practices, such as _slavery_, and _polygamy_, it is undisputed that they were recognised by the Jewish laws; but none of them were _instituted_ by these laws. The Pentateuch neither commands them, nor commends them; it merely mentions them, and, as a rule, to guard against their abuse. Take, for instance, the case of slavery. The custom was, and had been for ages, universal. All that the laws did was to recognise its existence and to provide certain safeguards; making kidnapping, for instance, a capital offence, and in some cases ordering the release of slaves every seventh year.[160] [Footnote 160: Exod. 21. 2, 16; Lev. 25. 41.] On the other hand, many _worse customs_ existed at the time which the Jewish laws did absolutely forbid;[161] and they also introduced a code of morals, summed up in the Decalogue, of such permanent value that it has been practically accepted by the civilised world. While the highest of all virtues, that of doing good to one's _enemies_, which was scarcely known among other nations, is positively enjoined in the Pentateuch.[162] [Footnote 161: _E.g._, Lev. 18-20.] [Footnote 162: Exod. 23. 4-5.] (4.) _Its general excellence._ Having now discussed at some length the alleged difficulties in God's character, it is only fair to see what can be said on the other side. And much indeed may be said; for the Jewish conception of the Deity, when considered as a whole, and apart from these special difficulties, was one of the noblest ever formed by man. To begin with, the Jews firmly believed in _Monotheism_, or the existence of One Supreme God. This was the essence of their religion. It is stamped on the first page of Genesis; it is implied in the Decalogue; it occurs all through the historical books; and it is emphasised in the Psalms and Prophets; in fact they were never without it. And in this respect the Jews stood alone among the surrounding nations. Some others, it is true, believed in a god who was more or less Supreme; but they always associated with him a number of lesser deities which really turned their religion into Polytheism. With the Jews it was not so. Their Jehovah had neither rivals nor assistants. There were no inferior gods, still less goddesses. He was the one and only God; and as for the so-called gods of other nations, they either did not believe in their existence, or thought them utterly contemptible, and even ridiculed the idea of their having the slightest power.[163] And it may be added, this is a subject on which the Jews have become the teachers of the world, for both the great monotheistic Religions of the present day, Christianity and Mohammedanism, have been derived from them. [Footnote 163: Deut. 4. 39; 1 Kings 18. 27; 2 Kings 19. 15-18; Ps. 115. 4-8.] Moreover, the great problem of the _Existence of Evil_ never led the Jews, as it did some other nations, into Dualism, or the belief in an independent Evil Power. Difficult as the problem was, the Jews never hesitated in their belief that there was but One Supreme God, and that everything that existed, whether good or evil, existed by His permission, and was in a certain sense His doing.[164] And they gave to Him the very highest attributes. [Footnote 164: Isa. 45. 7; Prov. 16. 4; Amos 3. 6.] They described Him as _Omnipotent_; the Creator, Preserver, and Possessor of all things, the Cause of all nature, the Sustainer of all life, Almighty in power, and for Whom nothing is too hard.[165] [Footnote 165: Gen. 1. 1; Neh. 9. 6; Gen. 14. 22; Amos 5. 8; Job 12. 10; 1 Chron. 29. 11; Jer. 32. 17.] They described Him as _Omniscient_; infinite in understanding, wonderful in counsel, perfect in knowledge, declaring the end from the beginning, knowing and foreknowing even the thoughts of men.[166] [Footnote 166: Ps. 147. 5; Isa. 28. 29; Job 37. 16; Isa. 46. 10; Ezek. 11. 5. Ps. 139. 2.] They described Him as _Omnipresent_; filling Heaven and earth, though contained by neither, existing everywhere, and from Whom escape is impossible.[167] [Footnote 167: Jer. 23. 24; 1 Kings 8. 27; Prov. 15. 3; Ps. 139. 7.] They described Him as _Eternal_; the Eternal God, the Everlasting God, God from everlasting to everlasting, Whose years are unsearchable, the First and the Last.[168] [Footnote 168: Deut. 33. 27; Gen. 21. 33; Ps. 90. 2; Job 36. 26; Isa. 48. 12.] They described Him as _Unchangeable_; the same at all times, ruling nature by fixed laws, and with Whom a change of purpose is impossible.[169] [Footnote 169: Mal. 3. 6; Ps. 148. 6; Num. 23. 19.] And lastly, they described Him as in His true nature _Unknowable_; a hidden God, far above human understanding.[170] This will be enough to show the lofty _mental_ conception which the Jews formed of the Deity. [Footnote 170: Isa. 45. 15; Job 11. 7.] Now for their _moral_ conception. They believed their God to be not only infinite in power and wisdom, but, what is more remarkable, they ascribed to Him the highest moral character. He was not only a _beneficent_ God, Whose blessings were unnumbered, but He was also a _righteous_ God. His very Name was Holy, and His hatred of evil is emphasised all through to such an extent that at times it forms a difficulty, as in the case of the Canaanites. Thus the _goodness_ they ascribed to God was a combination of beneficence and righteousness very similar to what we discussed in Chapter V. Moreover, in this respect the God of the Jews was a striking contrast to the gods of other nations. We have only to compare Jehovah with Moloch and Baal, or with the Egyptian gods, Ptah and Ra, or with the classical gods, Jupiter and Saturn, and the superiority of the Jewish conception of the Deity is beyond dispute. In particular it may be mentioned that among other nations, even the god they worshipped as Supreme always had a _female companion_. Thus we have Baal and Astaroth, Osiris and Isis, Jupiter and Juno, and many others. It is needless to point out how easily such an idea led to immorality being mixed up with religion, a vice from which the Jews were absolutely free. Indeed, few things are more remarkable, even with this remarkable people, than that in the innermost shrine of their temple, in the ark just below the mercy-seat, there was a code of _moral laws_, the _Ten Commandments_. This was the very centre of their religion, theirgreatest treasure; and they believed them to have been written by God Himself. Nor can it be said that this high conception of the Deity was confined to the later period of Jewish history. For the above texts have been purposely selected from all through the Old Testament, and even Abraham, the remote ancestor of the Jews, seems to have looked upon it as self-evident that Jehovah, the _Judge of all the earth_, should _do right_.[171] No wonder, then, believing in such a perfect Being as this, the Jews, in contrast with most other nations, thought that their first and great commandment was to _love_ God rather than to _fear_ Him, that they were each individually responsible to Him for their conduct, and that every sin was a sin against God, Who was a Searcher of hearts, and the impartial Judge of all men.[172] So much, then, for the Jewish conception of the Deity when considered as a whole and apart from special difficulties. [Footnote 171: Gen. 18. 25.] [Footnote 172: Deut. 6. 5; Eccles. 12. 14; Gen. 39. 9; 1 Chron. 28. 9; Job 34. 19.] And from this it follows that the Jewish God, Jehovah, was the true God, the God of Natural Religion, the Being Who is All-Powerful, All-Wise, and All-Good. Yet strange to say the Jews were not a more advanced nation than those around them. On the contrary, in the arts both of peace and war they were vastly inferior to the great nations of antiquity, but in their conception of the Deity they were vastly superior; or, as it has been otherwise expressed, they were men in religion, though children in everything else. And this appears to many to be a strong argument in favour of their religion. For unless it had been revealed to them, it is not likely that the Jews alone among ancient nations would have had such a true conception of the Deity. And unless they were in some special sense God's people, it is not likely that they alone would have worshipped Him. (_C._) CONCLUSION. Before concluding this chapter, we must notice four arguments of a more general character; all of which are undisputed, and all of which are distinctly in favour of the Jewish Religion. The first is that the Jews are all descended from _one man_, Abraham. They have always maintained this themselves, and there seems no reason to doubt it. Yet it is very remarkable. There are now about _sixteen hundred_ million persons in the world, and if there were at the time of Abraham (say) _one_ million men (_i.e._, males), each of these would, on an average, have 1,600 descendants now.[173] But the Jews now number, not 1,600, but over 12,000,000. This extraordinary posterity would be strange in any case, but is doubly so, considering that it was foretold. It was part of the great promise made to Abraham, for his great faith, that his seed should be as _the stars of heaven_, and as _the sand which is upon the sea-shore_ for multitude.[174] [Footnote 173: _I.e._, descendants in the male line; descendants through daughters are of course not counted.] [Footnote 174: Gen. 22. 17.] The second is that the Jews are anyhow _a unique nation_. For centuries, though scattered throughout the world, they have been held together by their religion. And according to the Bible, their religion was given them for this very purpose, it was to make them a _peculiar people_, unlike everyone else.[175] If then it was, as far as it went, the true religion, revealed by God, the fact is explicable; but if it was nothing better than other ancient and false religions, it is hopelessly inexplicable. [Footnote 175: Deut. 14. 2; 26. 18.] The third is that the early history of the Jews, either real or supposed, has exerted a greater and more beneficial influence on the world for the last thousand years, than that of all the great nations of antiquity put together. Millions of men have been helped to resist sin by the Psalms of David, and the stories of Elijah, Daniel, etc., over whom the histories of Egypt and Assyria, Greece, and Rome, have had no influence whatever. And the _effect_ of the Religion being thus unique, makes it probable that its _cause_ was unique also; in other words, that it was Divinely revealed. The fourth is that the Jews themselves always prophesied that their God, Jehovah, would one day be universally acknowledged.[176] And (however strange we may think it) this has actually been the case; and the God of this small and insignificant tribe--_the God of Israel_--is now worshipped by millions and millions of men (Christians) of every race, language, and country, throughout the civilised world. These are facts that need explanation, and the Truth of the Jewish Religion seems alone able to explain them. [Footnote 176: _E.g._, Ps. 22. 27; 86. 9; Isa. 11. 9; Zeph. 2. 11.] In conclusion, we will just sum up the arguments in these chapters. We have shown that there are strong reasons for thinking that the account of the _Creation_ was Divinely revealed; that the _origin_ of the Jewish religion was confirmed by miracles; and that its _history_ was confirmed both by miracles and prophecies. And it should be noticed, each of these arguments is independent of the others. So the evidence is all cumulative and far more than sufficient to outweigh the improbability of the religion, due to its apparent _partiality_, which is the most important argument on the opposite side. Moreover, we know so little as to why man was created, or what future, God intended for him, that it is not easy to say whether the religion is really so improbable after all. On the other hand, the evidence in its favour is plain, direct, and unmistakable. And we therefore decide that the _Jewish Religion is probably true_. PART III. _THE CHRISTIAN RELIGION_. CHAP. XIII. THAT THE CHRISTIAN RELIGION IS CREDIBLE. " XIV. THAT THE FOUR GOSPELS ARE GENUINE FROM EXTERNAL TESTIMONY. " XV. THAT THE GOSPELS ARE GENUINE FROM INTERNAL EVIDENCE. " XVI. THAT THE GOSPELS ARE GENUINE FROM THE EVIDENCE OF THE ACTS. " XVII. THAT THE RESURRECTION OF CHRIST IS PROBABLY TRUE. " XVIII. THAT THE FAILURE OF OTHER EXPLANATIONS INCREASES THIS PROBABILITY. " XIX. THAT THE OTHER NEW TESTAMENT MIRACLES ARE PROBABLY TRUE. " XX. THAT THE JEWISH PROPHECIES CONFIRM THE TRUTH OF CHRISTIANITY. " XXI. THAT THE CHARACTER OF CHRIST CONFIRMS THE TRUTH OF CHRISTIANITY. " XXII. THAT THE HISTORY OF CHRISTIANITY CONFIRMS ITS TRUTH. " XXIII. THAT ON THE WHOLE THE OTHER EVIDENCE SUPPORTS THIS CONCLUSION. " XXIV. THAT THE THREE CREEDS ARE DEDUCIBLE FROM THE NEW TESTAMENT. " XXV. THAT THE TRUTH OF THE CHRISTIAN RELIGION IS EXTREMELY PROBABLE. CHAPTER XIII. THAT THE CHRISTIAN RELIGION IS CREDIBLE. By the Christian Religion is meant the Three Creeds, its four great doctrines. (_A._) THE TRINITY. (1.) Its meaning; Three Persons in One Nature. (2.) Its credibility; this must be admitted. (3.) Its probability more likely than simple Theism. (_B._) THE INCARNATION. (1.) Its difficulties; not insuperable. (2.) Its motive; God, it is said, loves man, and wishes man to love Him, not improbable for several reasons. (3.) Its historical position. (_C._) THE ATONEMENT. The common objections do not apply because of the _willingness_ of the Victim. (1.) As to the Victim; it does away with the injustice. (2.) As to the Judge; it appeals to His mercy not justice. (3.) As to the sinner; it has no bad influence. (_D._) THE RESURRECTION. (1.) Christ's Resurrection; not incredible, for we have no experience to judge by. (2.) Man's resurrection; not incredible, for the same body need not involve the same molecules. (_E._) CONCLUSION. Three considerations which show that the Christian Religion, though improbable, is certainly not incredible. We pass on now to the Christian Religion, by which we mean the facts and doctrines contained in the _Three Creeds_, commonly, though perhaps incorrectly, called the Apostles', the Nicene, and the Athanasian. And, as these doctrines are of such vast importance, and of so wonderful a character, we must first consider whether they are _credible_. Is it conceivable that such doctrines should be true, no matter what evidence they may have in their favour? In this chapter, therefore, we shall deal chiefly with the difficulties of Christianity. Now its four great and characteristic doctrines are those of the Trinity, the Incarnation, the Atonement, and the Resurrection. We will examine each in turn, and then conclude with a few general remarks. (_A._) THE TRINITY. To begin with, the Christian religion differs from all others in its idea of the nature of God. According to Christianity, the Deity exists in some mysterious manner as a _Trinity of Persons_ in a _Unity of Nature_; so we will first consider the meaning of this doctrine, then its credibility, and lastly its probability. It is not, as some people suppose, a kind of intellectual puzzle, but a statement which, whether true or false, is fairly intelligible, provided, of course, due attention is given to the meaning of the words employed. (1.) _Its meaning._ In the first place, we must carefully distinguish between _Person_ and _Substance_; this is the key to the whole question. The former has been already considered in Chapters III. and IV., though it must be remembered that this term, like all others, when applied to God, cannot mean exactly the same as it does when applied to man. All we can say is that, on the whole, it seems the least inappropriate word. The latter is a little misleading, since it is not the modern English word _substance_, but a Latin translation of a Greek word, which would be better rendered by _nature_ or _essence_. But though difficult to explain, its meaning is tolerably clear. Take, for instance, though the analogy must not be pressed too far, the case of three men; each is a distinct human _person_, but they all have a common human _nature_. This human nature, which may also be called human substance (in its old sense), humanity, or manhood, has of course no existence apart from the men whose nature it is; it is merely _that_ which they each possess in common, and the possession of which makes each of them a man. And hence, any attribute belonging to human nature would belong to each of the three men, so that each would be mortal, each subject to growth, etc. Each would in fact possess the complete human nature, yet together there would not be three human natures, but only one. Bearing this in mind, let us now turn to the doctrine of the Trinity. This is expressed in vv. 3-6 of the Athanasian Creed as follows:-- 3. 'The Catholic Faith is this, that we worship one God in Trinity, and Trinity in Unity. 4. 'Neither confounding the Persons, nor dividing the Substance. 5. 'For there is one Person of the Father, another of the Son, and another of the Holy Ghost. 6. 'But the Godhead of the Father, of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost, is all one, the Glory equal, the Majesty co-eternal.' Here, it will be noticed, vv. 5 and 6 give the _reasons_ for v. 4, so that the Godhead in v. 6 is, as we should have expected, the same as the Divine _Substance_ or Nature in v. 4. Thus the meaning is as follows:-- We must worship one God (as to Nature) in Trinity (of Persons) and Trinity (of Persons) in Unity (of Nature); neither confusing the Persons, for each is distinct; nor dividing the Nature, for it is all one. Thus far there is no intellectual difficulty in the statements of the Creed. We do not mean that there is no difficulty in believing them to be true, or in accurately defining the terms used; but that, as statements, their meaning is quite intelligible. We now pass on to the following verses which are deductions from this, and show that as each of the three Persons possesses the Divine Nature, all attributes of the Godhead (_i.e._, of this one Divine Nature) are possessed by each of the three. Each is therefore _eternal_, and yet there is only _one_ eternal Nature. But this is expressed in a peculiarly short and abrupt manner. No one, of course, supposes that God is Three _in the same sense_ in which He is One, but the Creed does not sufficiently guard against this, perhaps because it never occurred to its author that anyone would think it meant such an obvious absurdity. Moreover, even grammatically the verses are not very clear. For the various terms _uncreate_, _incomprehensible_ (_i.e._, boundless, or omnipresent), _eternal_, _almighty_, _God_, and _Lord_ are used as if they were adjectives in the first part of each sentence, and nouns in the latter part. But we must remember these verses do not stand alone. If they did, they might perhaps be thought unintelligible. But they do not. As just said, they are deductions from the previous statement of the doctrine of the Trinity; and, therefore, they must in all fairness be interpreted so as to agree with that doctrine, not to contradict it. And the previous verses (3-6) show clearly that where _three_ are spoken of, it refers to Persons; and where _one_ is spoken of, it refers to Substance or Nature. It must however be admitted that the _names_ of these Divine Persons imply some closer union between them than that of merely possessing in common one Divine Nature. For they are not independent names like those of different men or of heathen gods, each of whom might exist separately; but they are all _relative_ names, each implying the others. Thus the Father implies the Son, for how can there be a Father, unless there is a Son (or at least a child)? And of course an Eternal Father implies an Eternal Son, so any idea that the Father must have lived first, as in the case of a human father and son, is out of the question. Similarly the Son implies the Father, and the Spirit implies Him whose Spirit He is. And though these names are no doubt very inadequate; they yet show that the three Persons are of the same Nature, which is the important point. We conclude then that the Doctrine of the Trinity means the existence of three Divine Persons, each possessing in its completeness the one Divine Nature; and closely united together; though in a manner, which is to us unknown. (2.) _Its credibility._ Having now discussed the meaning of the Christian doctrine, we have next to consider whether it is credible. It must of course be admitted that the doctrine is very mysterious, and though fairly intelligible as a doctrine, is extremely hard to realise (indeed some might say inconceivable) when we try to picture to ourselves what the doctrine actually means. But we must remember that the nature of God is anyhow almost inconceivable, even as simple Theism. We cannot picture to ourselves a Being Who is omnipresent,--in this room, for instance, as well as on distant stars. Nor can we imagine a Being Who is grieved every time we commit sin, for if so, considering the number of people in the world, He must be grieved many thousands of times _every second_; as well as being glad whenever anyone resists sin, also, let us hope, several thousand times a second. All this may be true, just as the marvels of science--the _ether_, for instance, which is also omnipresent, and has millions of vibrations every second--may be true, but our minds are quite unable to realise any of them. Thus, as said in Chapter III., though we have ample means of knowing what God is _in His relation to us_ as our Creator and Judge, yet as to His real nature we know next to nothing. Nor is this surprising when we remember that the only being who in any way resembles God is _man_; and man's nature, notwithstanding all our opportunities of studying it, still remains a mystery. Now Christianity does attempt (in its doctrine of the Trinity) to state what God is _in Himself_, and without any reference to ourselves, or to nature; and that this should be to a great extent inconceivable to our minds seems inevitable. For the nature of God must be beyond human understanding, just as the nature of a man is beyond the understanding of animals; though they may realise what he is _to them_, in his power or his kindness. And for all we know, Trinity in Unity, like omnipresence, may be one of the unique attributes of God, which cannot be understood (because it cannot be shared) by anyone else. Therefore the mysteriousness of the Christian doctrine is no reason for thinking it incredible. Nor is it inconsistent with Natural Religion, for though this shows the _Unity_ of God, it is only a unity of _outward action_. It does not, and cannot tell us what this one God is _in Himself_, whether, for instance, He exists as one or more Persons. In the same way (if we may without irreverence take a homely illustration) a number of letters might be so extremely alike as to show that they were all written by one man. But this would not tell us what the man was _in himself_, whether, for instance, he had a free will, as well as a body and mind; or how these were related to one another. Hence Natural Religion can in no way conflict with Christianity. (3.) _Its probability._ But we may go further than this, and say that the Christian doctrine of _Three_ Divine Persons is (when carefully considered) _less_ difficult to believe than the Unitarian doctrine of only _One_. For this latter leads to the conclusion, either that God must have been a solitary God dwelling alone from all eternity, before the creation of the world; or else that the world itself (or some part of it) must have been eternal, and have formed a kind of companion. And each of these theories has great difficulties. Take for instance the attributes of _Power_ and _Wisdom_, both of which, as we have seen, must of necessity belong to God. How could a solitary God dwelling alone before the Creation of the world have been able to exercise either His Power or His Wisdom? As far as we can judge, His Power could have produced nothing, His Wisdom could have thought of nothing. He would have been a _potential_ God only, with all His capacities unrealised. And such a view seems quite incredible. Yet the only alternative--that the world itself is eternal--though it gets over this difficulty, is still inadequate. For as we have seen God possesses _moral_ attributes as well, such as Goodness. And all moral attributes--everything connected with right and wrong--can only be thought of as existing between two _persons_. We cannot be good to an atom of hydrogen, or unjust to a molecule of water. We can it is true be kind to _animals_, but this is simply because they resemble personal beings in having a capacity for pleasure and pain. But moral attributes in their highest perfection can only exist between two persons. Therefore as the eternal God possesses, and must always have possessed, such attributes, it seems to require some other eternal _Person_. The argument is perhaps a difficult one to follow, but a single example will make it plain. Take the attribute of _love_. This requires at least two persons--one to love, the other to be loved. Therefore if love has always been one of God's attributes, there must always have been some _other_ person to be loved. And the idea that God might have been eternally _creating_ persons, like men or angels, as objects of His love, though perhaps attractive, is still inadequate. For love in its perfection can only exist between two beings _of the same nature_. A man cannot love his dog, in the same way that he can love his son. In short, _personality_, involving as it does moral attributes like love, implies _fellowship_, or the existence of other and _similar_ persons. Yet, when we think of the meaning of the term God, His omnipresence and omnipotence, it seems impossible that there can be more than one. We must then believe in at least two Eternal and Divine Persons, yet in but one God; and the Christian doctrine of the Trinity in Unity, with all its difficulties, still seems the _least_ difficult explanation. But this is not all, for Natural Religion itself leads us to look upon God in _three_ distinct ways, which correspond to the three chief arguments for His existence. (Chaps. I., II., and V.) Thus we may think of Him as the Eternal, Self-Existent One, altogether independent of the world--the All-Powerful _First Cause_ required to account for it. Or we may think of Him in His relation to the world, as its Maker and Evolver, working everywhere, in everything and through everything,--the All-Wise _Designer_ required by nature. Or we may think of Him in His relation to ourselves as a Spirit holding intercourse with our spirits, and telling us what is right--the All-Good _Moral_ God required by conscience. And how well this agrees with the Christian doctrine scarcely needs pointing out; the Father the Source of all, the Son by Whom all things were made, and the Spirit bearing witness with our spirits; and yet not three Gods, but one God. On the whole, then, we decide that the Doctrine of the Trinity is certainly credible and perhaps even probable. For to put it shortly, Nature forces us to believe in a personal God; yet, when we reflect on the subject, the idea of a personal God, Who is only one Person, seems scarcely tenable; since (as said above) personality implies fellowship. (_B._) THE INCARNATION. We next come to the doctrine of the Incarnation; which however is so clearly stated in the Athanasian Creed, that its meaning is quite plain. God the Son, we are told, the second Person of the Trinity, was pleased to become Man and to be born of the Virgin Mary, so that He is now both _God_ and _Man_. He is God (from all eternity) of the Substance or Nature of His Divine Father, and Man (since the Incarnation) of the Substance or Nature of His human Mother. He is thus complete God and complete Man; equal to the Father in regard to His Godhead, for He is of the same Nature; and inferior to the Father, in regard to His Manhood, for human nature must be inferior to the Divine. Moreover, though He possesses these two Natures, they are not changed one into the other, or confused together; but each remains distinct, though both are united in His One Person. This is in brief the doctrine of the Incarnation; and we will first consider its difficulties, then its motive, and lastly its historical position. (1.) _Its difficulties._ The first of these is that the Incarnation would be a _change_ in the existence of God, Who is the changeless One. He, it is urged, is always the same, while an Incarnation would imply that at some particular time and place a momentous change occurred, and for ever afterwards God became different from what He had been for ever before. This is no doubt a serious difficulty, but it must not be exaggerated. For an Incarnation would not, strictly speaking, involve any change in the Divine Nature itself. God the Son remained completely and entirely God all the time, He was not (as just said) in any way changed into a man, only He united to Himself a human nature as well. And perhaps if we knew more about the nature of God, and also about that of man (who we must remember was made to some extent in God's image, and this perhaps with a view to the Incarnation), we should see that it was just as natural for God to become Man, as it was for God to create man. We have really nothing to argue from. An Incarnation seems improbable, and that is all we can say. But if it took place at all, there is nothing surprising in this planet being the one chosen for it. Indeed, as far as we know, it is the only one that could be chosen, since it is the only one which contains personal beings in whom God could become incarnate. Of course other planets _may_ contain such beings; but as said before (Chapter V.) this is only a conjecture, and in the light of recent investigations not a very probable one. While if they do contain such beings, these may not have sinned, in which case our little world, with its erring inhabitants, would be like the lost sheep in the parable, the only one which the Ruler of the Universe had come to save. The second difficulty is, that the Incarnation would lead to a _compound Being_, who is both Divine and human at the same time, and this is often thought to be incredible. But here the answer is obvious, and is suggested by the Creed itself. Man himself is a compound being; he is the union of a material body and an immaterial spirit, in a single person. His spirit is in fact _incarnate_ in his body. We cannot explain it, but so it is. And the Incarnation in which Christians believe is the union of the Divine Nature and the human nature in a single Person. Both appear equally improbable, and equally inconceivable to our minds, if we try and think out all that they involve; but as the one is actually true, the other is certainly not incredible. The third and last of these difficulties refers to the miraculous _Virgin-birth_. But if we admit the possibility of an Incarnation, no method of bringing it about can be pronounced incredible. The event, if true, is necessarily unique, and cannot be supposed to come under the ordinary laws of nature. For it was not the birth of a _new_ being (as in the case of ordinary men), but an already existing Being entering into new conditions. And we have no experience of this whatever. Indeed, that a child born in the usual way should be the Eternal God, is just as miraculous, and just as far removed from our experience, as if He were born in any other way. While considering that one object of the Incarnation was to promote moral virtues in man, such as purity, the virgin-birth was most suitable, and formed an appropriate beginning for a sinless life. (2.) _Its motive._ But we now come to a more important point, for the Incarnation, if true, must have been the most momentous event in the world's history; and can we even imagine a sufficient reason for it? God we may be sure does not act without motives, and what adequate motive can be suggested for the Incarnation? Now the alleged motive, indeed the very foundation of Christianity, is that God _loves_ man; and as a natural consequence wishes man to love Him. Is this then incredible, or even improbable? Certainly not, for several reasons. To begin with, as we have already shown, God is a Personal and Moral Being, Who cares for the welfare of His creatures, more especially for man. And this, allowing for the imperfection of human language, may be described as God's _loving_ man, since disinterested love for another cannot be thought an unworthy attribute to ascribe to God. On the other hand, man is also a personal and moral being, able to some extent to love God in return. And to this must be added the fact that man, at least some men, do not seem altogether unworthy of God's love, while we certainly do not know of any other being who is more worthy of it. Moreover, considering the admitted resemblance between God and man, the analogy of human parents loving their children is not inappropriate. Indeed it is specially suitable, since here also we have a relationship between two personal and moral beings, one of whom is the producer (though not in this case the creator) of the other. And human parents often love their children intensely, and will sometimes even die for them; while, as a rule, the better the parents are the more they love their children, and this in spite of the children having many faults. Is it, then, unlikely that the Creator may love His children also, and that human love may be only a reflection of this--another instance of how man was made in the image of God? The evidence we have may be slight, but it all points the same way. Now, if it be admitted that God loves man, we have plainly no means of estimating the _extent_ of this love. But by comparing the other attributes of God, such as His wisdom and His power, with the similar attributes of man, we should expect God's love to be infinitely greater than any human love; so great indeed that He would be willing to make any sacrifice in order to gain what is the object in all love, that it should be returned. Might not then God's love induce Him to become man, so that He might the more easily win man's love? And we must remember that man's love, like his will, is _free_. Compulsory love is in the nature of things impossible. A man can only love, what he can if he chooses hate. Therefore God cannot force man to love Him, He can only induce him; and how can He do this better than by an Incarnation? For it would show, as nothing else could show, that God's love is a self-sacrificing love; and this is the highest form of love. Indeed, if it were not so, in other words, if God's love cost Him nothing, it would be _inferior_ in this respect to that of many men. But if, on the other hand, God's love involved self-sacrifice;--if it led to Calvary--then it is the highest possible form of love. And then we see that God's attributes are all, so to speak, on the same scale; and His Goodness is as far above any human goodness, as the Power which rules the universe is above any human power; or the Wisdom which designed all nature is above any human wisdom. Hence, if the Incarnation still seems inconceivable, may it not be simply because the love of God, like His other attributes, is so inconceivably greater than anything we can imagine? Moreover a self-sacrificing love is the form, which is most likely to lead to its being returned. And experience proves that this has actually been the case. The condescending love of Christ in His life, and still more in His death, forms an overpowering motive which, when once realised, has always been irresistible. But more than this. Not only does the Incarnation afford the strongest possible motive for man to love God, but it _enables_ him to do so in a way which nothing else could. Man, it is true, often longs for some means of intercourse, or communion with his Maker, yet this seems impossible. The gulf which separates the Creator from the creature is infinite, and can never be bridged over by man, or even by an angel, or other intermediate being. For a bridge must of necessity touch _both sides_; so if the gulf is to be bridged at all, it can only be by One Who is at the same time both God and Man. Thus the Incarnation brings God, if we may use the expression, within man's reach, so that the latter has no mere abstract and invisible Being to love, but a definite Person, Whose Character he can appreciate, and Whose conduct he can to some extent follow. In short, the Incarnation provides man with a worthy Being for his love and devotion, yet with a Being Whom he can partly at least understand and partly imitate. And he is thus able to become in a still truer sense a _child of God_; or, as it is commonly expressed, God became Man in order that man might become as far as possible, like God. And this brings us to another aspect of the Incarnation. Christ's life was meant to be an _example_ to man, and it is clear that a _perfect_ example could only be given by a Being Who is both God and Man. For God alone is above human imitation, and even the best of men have many faults; so that from the nature of the case, Christ, and Christ alone, can provide us with a perfect example, for being Man He is capable of imitation, and being God He is worthy of it. Now what follows from this? If Christ's life was meant to be an example to man, it was essential that it should be one of _suffering_, or the example would have lost more than half its value. Man does not want to be shown how to live in prosperity, but how to live in adversity, and how to suffer patiently. The desertion of friends, the malice of enemies, and a cruel death are the occasional lot of mankind. They are perhaps the hardest things a man has to bear in this world, and they have often had to be borne by the followers of Christ. Is it incredible, then, that He should have given them an example of the perfect way of doing so; gently rebuking His friends, praying for His murderers, and acting throughout as only a perfect man could act? No doubt such a life and death seem at first sight degrading to the Deity. But strictly speaking, suffering, if borne voluntarily and for the benefit of others, is not degrading; especially if the benefit could not be obtained in any other way. When we consider all this, it is plain that many reasons can be given for the Incarnation. Of course it may be replied that they are not adequate; but we have no means of knowing whether God would consider them adequate or not. His ideas are not like ours; for what adequate motive can we suggest for His creating man at all? Yet He has done so. And having created him and given him free will, and man having misused his freedom, all of which is admitted, then that God should endeavour to restore man cannot be thought incredible. Indeed it seems almost due to Himself that He should try and prevent His noblest work from being a failure. And if in addition to this God loves man still, in spite of his sins, then some intervention on his account seems almost probable. (3.) _Its historical position._ It may still be objected that if the above reasons are really sufficient to account for the Incarnation, it ought to have taken place near the commencement of man's history. And no doubt when we contemplate the great antiquity of man, this often seems a difficulty. But we have very little to judge by, and that little does not support the objection. For in nature God seems always to work by the slow and tedious process of evolution, not attaining what He wanted all at once, but by gradual development. Therefore, if He revealed Himself to man, we should expect it to be by the same method. At first it would be indistinctly, as in _Natural Religion_; which dates back to pre-historic times, since the burial customs show a belief in a future life. Then it would be more clearly, as in the _Jewish Religion_; and finally it might be by becoming Man Himself, as in the _Christian Religion_. According to Christianity, the whole previous history of the world was a preparation for the Incarnation. But only when the preparation was complete, _when the fullness of the time came_, as St. Paul expresses it,[177] did it take place. And it has certainly proved, as we should have expected, an epoch-making event. In all probability the history of the world will always be considered relatively to it in years B.C. and A.D. And very possibly it has a significance far beyond man or even this planet. For we must remember, man is not merely a link in a series of created beings indefinitely improving, but, as shown in Chapter V., he is the _end_ of the series, the last stage in evolution, the highest organised being that will ever appear on this planet, or, as far as we know, on any planet. [Footnote 177: Gal. 4. 4.] Therefore, man's rank in the universe is not affected by the insignificance of this earth. Where else shall we find a personal being with attributes superior to those of man? Where else indeed shall we find a personal being at all? The only answer Science can give is _nowhere_. But if so, man's position in the universe is one of unique pre-eminence. And it is this inherent greatness of man, as it has been called, which justifies the Incarnation. _He is worthy that Thou should'st do this for him._ Moreover when we consider God the Son as the Divine Person who is specially _immanent_ in nature, and who has been evolving the universe through countless ages from its original matter into higher and higher forms of life, there seems a special fitness in its leading up to such a climax as the Incarnation. For then by becoming Man, He united Himself with matter in its highest and most perfect form. Thus the Incarnation, like the Nebula theory in astronomy, or the process of Evolution, if once accepted, throws a new light on the entire universe; and it has thus a grandeur and impressiveness about it, which to some minds is very attractive. On the whole, then, we decide that the doctrine is certainly not incredible, though it no doubt seems improbable. (_C._) THE ATONEMENT. We pass on now to the doctrine of the Atonement, which is that Christ's death was in some sense a sacrifice for sin, and thus reconciled (or made 'at-one') God the Father and sinful man. And though not actually stated in the Creeds, it is implied in the words, _Was crucified also for us_, and _Who suffered for our salvation_. The chief difficulty is of course on moral grounds. The idea of atonement, it is said, or of one man being made to suffer as a substitute for another, and thus appeasing the Deity, was well-nigh universal in early times, and is so still among savage nations. Such a sacrifice, however, is a great injustice to the _victim_; it ascribes an unworthy character to God, as a _Judge_, Who can be satisfied with the punishment of an innocent man in place of the guilty one; and it has a bad influence on the _sinner_, allowing him to sin on with impunity, provided he can find another substitute when needed. The answer to this difficulty is, that it takes no account of the most important part of the Christian doctrine, which is the _willingness_ of the Victim. According to Christianity, Christ was a willing Sacrifice, Who freely laid down His life;[178] while the human sacrifices just alluded to were not willing sacrifices, since the victims had no option in the matter. And, as we shall see, this alters the case completely both in regard to the victim himself, the judge, and the sinner. [Footnote 178: _E.g._, John 10. 18.] (1.) _As to the Victim._ It is plain that his willingness does away with the injustice altogether. There is no injustice in accepting a volunteer for any painful office, provided he thoroughly knows what he is doing, for he need not undertake it unless he likes. If, on the other hand, we deny the voluntary and sacrificial character of Christ's death, and regard Him as merely a good man, then there certainly was injustice--and very great injustice too, that such a noble life should have ended in such a shameful death. (2.) _As to the Judge._ Next as to the Judge. It will be seen that a willing sacrifice, though it does not satisfy his _justice_, makes a strong appeal to his _mercy_; at least it would do so in human cases. Suppose for instance a judge had before him a criminal who well deserved to be punished, but a good man, perhaps the judge's own son, came forward, and not only interceded for the prisoner, but was so devotedly attached to him as to offer to bear his punishment (pay his fine, for instance), this would certainly influence the judge in his favour. It would show that he was not so hopelessly bad after all. Mercy and justice are thus both facts of human nature; and it is also a fact of human nature, that the voluntary suffering, or willingness to suffer, of a good man for a criminal whom he deeply loves, does incline man to mercy rather than justice. Now, have we any reason for thinking that God also combines, in their highest forms, these two attributes of mercy and justice? Certainly we have; for, as shown in Chapter V., the goodness of God includes both _beneficence_ and _righteousness_; and these general terms, when applied to the case of judging sinners, closely correspond to mercy and justice. God, as we have seen, combines both, and both are required by the Christian doctrine. Mercy alone would have forgiven men without any atonement; justice alone would not have forgiven them at all. But God is both merciful and just, and therefore the idea that voluntary atonement might incline Him to mercy rather than justice does not seem incredible. And this is precisely the Christian doctrine. The mercy of God the Father is obtained for sinful man by Christ's generous sacrifice of Himself on man's behalf; so that, to put it shortly, _God forgives sins for Christ's sake_. And it should be noticed, the idea of sins being _forgiven_ which occurs all through the New Testament, and is alluded to in the Apostles' Creed, shows that Christ's Atonement was not that of a mere substitute, for then no forgiveness would have been necessary. If, for example, I owe a man a sum of money, and a friend pays it for me, I do not ask the man to forgive me the debt; I have no need of any forgiveness. But if, instead of paying it, he merely intercedes for me, then the man may forgive me the debt for my friend's sake. And in this way, though Christ did not, strictly speaking, bear man's _punishment_ (which would have been eternal separation from God), His sufferings and death may yet have procured man's _pardon_; He suffered on our behalf, though not in our stead. And some Atonement was certainly necessary to show God's _hatred for sin_, and to prevent His Character from being misunderstood in this respect. And it probably would have been so, if men had been forgiven without any Atonement, when they might have thought that sin was not such a very serious affair after all. (3.) _As to the sinner._ Lastly, the willingness of the victim affects the sinner also. For if the changed attitude of the judge is due, not to his justice being satisfied, but to his mercy being appealed to, this is plainly conditional on a _moral change_ in the sinner himself. A good man suffering for a criminal would not alter our feelings towards him, if he still chose to remain a criminal. And this exactly agrees with the Christian doctrine, which is that sinners cannot expect to avail themselves of Christ's Atonement if they wilfully continue in sin; so that _repentance_ is a necessary condition of forgiveness. Therefore instead of having a bad influence on the sinners themselves; it has precisely the opposite effect. And what we should thus expect theoretically has been amply confirmed by experience. No one will deny that Christians in all ages have been devotedly attached to the doctrine of the Atonement. They have asserted that it is the cause of all their joy in this world, and all their hope for the next. Yet, so far from having had a bad influence, it has led them to the most noble and self-sacrificing lives. It has saved them from _sin_, and not only the penalties of sin, and this is exactly what was required. The greatness of man's sin, and the misery it causes in the world, are but too evident, apart from Christianity. Man is indeed both the glory and the scandal of the universe--the _glory_ in what he was evidently intended to be, and the _scandal_ in what, through sin, he actually became. And the Atonement was a 'vast remedy for this vast evil.' And if we admit the _end_, that man had to be redeemed from sin, impressed with the guilt of sin, and helped to resist sin; we cannot deny the appropriateness of the _means_, which, as a matter of fact, has so often brought it about. This completes a brief examination of the moral difficulties connected with the Atonement; and it is clear that the _willingness_ of the Victim makes the whole difference, whether we regard them as referring to the Victim himself, the Judge, or the sinner. (_D._) THE RESURRECTION. The last great Christian doctrine is that of the Resurrection. According to Christianity, all men are to rise again, with their bodies partly changed and rendered incorruptible; and the Resurrection of Christ's Body was both a pledge of this, and also to some extent an example of what a risen body would be like. He was thus, as the Bible says, the _firstborn_ from the dead.[179] Now this word _firstborn_ implies, to begin with, that none had been so born before, the cases of Lazarus, etc., being those of _resuscitation_ and not _resurrection_; they lived again to die again, and their bodies were unchanged. And it implies, secondly, that others would be so born afterwards, so that our risen bodies will resemble His. The Resurrection of Christ is thus represented not as something altogether exceptional and unique, but rather as the first instance of what will one day be the universal rule. It shows us the last stage in man's long development, what he is intended to become when he is at length perfected. We will therefore consider first Christ's Resurrection, and then man's resurrection. [Footnote 179: Col. 1. 18; Rev. 1. 5; 1 Cor. 15. 20; Acts. 26. 23.] (1.) _Christ's Resurrection._ Now according to the Gospels, Christ's Risen Body combined material and immaterial properties in a remarkable manner. Thus He could be touched and eat food, and yet apparently pass through closed doors and vanish at pleasure; and this is often thought to be incredible. But strictly speaking it is not _incredible_; since no material substance (a door or anything else) is _solid_. There are always spaces between the molecules; so that for one such body to pass through another is no more difficult to imagine, than for one regiment to march through another on parade. And if a regiment contained anything like as many men, as there are molecules in a door, it would probably look just as solid. Moreover Christ's risen Body, though possessing some material properties, is represented to have been _spiritual_ as well. And the nearest approach to a spiritual substance of which we have any scientific knowledge is the _ether_, and this also seems to combine material and immaterial properties, being in some respects more like a solid than a gas. Yet it can pass through all material substances; and this certainly prevents us from saying that it is incredible that Christ's spiritual Body should pass through closed doors. Indeed for all we know, it may be one of the properties of spiritual beings, that they can pass through material substances (just as the X-rays can) and be generally invisible; yet be able, if they wish, to assume some of the properties of matter, such as becoming visible or audible. In fact, unless they were able to do this, it is hard to see how they could manifest themselves at all. And a slight alteration in the waves of light coming from a body would make it visible or not to the human eye. And it is out of the question to say that God--the Omnipotent One--could not produce such a change in a spiritual body. While for such a body to become tangible, or to take food, is not really more wonderful (though it seems so) than for it to become visible or audible; since when once we pass the boundary between the natural and the supernatural everything is mysterious. It may of course be replied that though all this is not perhaps incredible, it is still most improbable; and no doubt it is. But what then? We have no adequate means of judging, for the fact, if true, is, up to the present, unique. It implies a _new_ mode of existence which is neither spiritual nor material, though possessing some of the properties of each, and of which we have no experience whatever. So we are naturally unable to understand it. But assuming the Resurrection of Christ to be otherwise credible, as it certainly is if we admit His Incarnation and Death, we cannot call it incredible, merely because the properties of His risen Body are said to be different from those of ordinary human bodies, and in some respects to resemble those of spirits. It is in fact only what we should expect. (2.) _Man's Resurrection._ Next as to man's resurrection. The Christian doctrine of the resurrection of the _body_ must not be confused with that of the immortality of the _spirit_, discussed in Chapter VI., which is common to many religions, and is certainly not improbable. But two objections may be made to the resurrection of the body. The first is that it is _impossible_, since the human body decomposes after death, and its molecules may afterwards form a part of other bodies; so, if all men were to rise again at the same time, those molecules would have to be in two places at once. But the fallacy here is obvious, for the molecules composing a man's body are continually changing during life, and it is probable that every one of them is changed in a few years; yet the identity of the body is not destroyed. This identity depends not on the identity of the molecules, but on their relative position and numbers so that a man's body in this respect is like a whirlpool in a stream, the water composing which is continually changing, though the whirlpool itself remains. Therefore the resurrection need not be a resurrection of _relics_, as it is sometimes called. No doubt in the case of Christ it was so, and perhaps it will be so in the case of some Christians, only it _need_ not be so; and this removes at once the apparent impossibility of the doctrine. Secondly, it may still be objected that the doctrine is extremely _improbable_. And no doubt it seems so. But once more we have no adequate means of judging. Apart from experience, how very unlikely it would be that a seed when buried in the ground should develop into a plant; or that plants and trees, after being apparently dead all through the winter, should blossom again in the spring. Thus everything connected with life is so mysterious that we can decide nothing except by experience. And therefore we cannot say what may, or may not happen in some future state, of which we have no experience whatever. Indeed, if man's spirit is immortal, the fact that it is associated with a body during its life on this earth makes it not unlikely that it will be associated with a body of some kind during its future life. And that this body should be partly spiritual, and so resemble Christ's risen body, is again only what we should expect. Thus, on the whole, the doctrine of the Resurrection is certainly credible. (_E._) CONCLUSION. We have now examined the four great doctrines of Christianity, the others either following directly from these, or not presenting any difficulty. And though, as we have shown, not one of these doctrines can be pronounced _incredible_, yet some of them, especially those of the Incarnation and the Atonement, certainly seem _improbable_. This must be fully and freely admitted. At the same time, it is only fair to remember that this improbability is distinctly lessened by the three following considerations. First, in regard to all these doctrines we have no _adequate_ means of deciding what is or is not probable. Reason cannot judge where it has nothing to judge by; and apart from Christianity itself, we know next to nothing as to what was God's object in creating man. If, then, these doctrines are true, their truth depends not on reason, but on revelation. All reason can do is to examine most carefully the evidence in favour of the alleged revelation. Of this we should expect it to be able to judge, but not of the doctrines themselves. We are hence in a region where we cannot trust to our own sense of the fitness of things; and therefore the Christian doctrines must not be condemned merely because we think them contrary to our reason. Moreover many thoughtful men (including Agnostics) do not consider them so. Thus the late Professor Huxley once wrote, 'I have not the slightest objection to offer _a priori_ to all the propositions of the Three Creeds. The mysteries of the Church are child's play compared with the mysteries of Nature.'[180] [Footnote 180: Quoted with his permission in Bishop Gore's Bampton Lectures, 1891, p. 247, 1898 edition.] And this brings us to the next point, which is that many _other_ facts which are actually true appear equally improbable at first sight; such, for instance, as the existence of the ether, or the growth of plants. Apart from experience, what an overwhelming argument could be made out against such facts as these. Yet they concern subjects which are to a great extent within our comprehension, while Christianity has to do with the nature and character of a God Who is admittedly beyond our comprehension. May not the difficulties in both cases, but especially in regard to the latter, be due to our _ignorance_ only? The Christian doctrines, we must remember, do not claim to have been revealed in all their bearings, but only in so far as they concern ourselves. Thirdly, it should be noticed that, though individually these doctrines may seem improbable, yet, when considered as a whole, as in all fairness they ought to be, there is a complete harmony between them. Their improbability is not _cumulative_. On the contrary, one often helps to explain the difficulties of another. This has been recognised by most writers, including many who can scarcely be called theologians. Thus the great Napoleon is reported to have said, 'If once the Divine character of Christ is admitted, Christian doctrine exhibits the precision and clearness of algebra; so that we are struck with admiration at its scientific connection and unity.'[181] [Footnote 181: Beauterne, Sentiment de Napoleon 1^er sur le Christianisme, new edition, Paris, 1864, p. 110.] In conclusion, it must be again pointed out that we are only now considering the _credibility_ of Christianity, and not trying to make out that it appears a probable religion, at first sight, which it plainly does not. Only its improbability is not so extremely great as to make it useless to consider the evidence in its favour. This is especially so when we remember that this improbability must have seemed far greater when Christianity was first preached than it does now, when we are so accustomed to the religion. Yet, as a matter of fact, the evidence in its favour did outweigh every difficulty, and finally convince the civilised world. What this evidence is we proceed to inquire. CHAPTER XIV. THAT THE FOUR GOSPELS ARE GENUINE FROM EXTERNAL TESTIMONY. (_A._) THE UNDISPUTED TESTIMONY. End of second century; Irenæus, his evidence of great value. (_B._) THE ALMOST UNDISPUTED TESTIMONY. (1.) Justin Martyr, A.D. 150, refers to some Apostolic _Memoirs_, which were publicly read among Christians; and his quotations show that these were our Four Gospels. (2.) Tatian, Justin's disciple, A.D. 175, wrote the Diatessaron, or harmony of Four Gospels. (3.) Marcion, A.D. 140, wrote a Gospel based on St. Luke's. (_C._) THE DISPUTED TESTIMONY. (1.) Papias, mentions the first two Gospels by name. (2.) Aristides, A.D. 125, alludes to some Gospel as well known. (3.) The Apostolic Fathers, Polycarp, Ignatius, Clement, Barnabas, and the Teaching of the Twelve, seem to contain references to our Gospels. Having shown in the last chapter that the Christian Religion is _credible_, we have next to consider what evidence there is in its favour. Now that it was founded on the alleged miracles and teaching of Christ, and chiefly on His Resurrection, is admitted by everyone. So we must first examine whether we have any trustworthy testimony as to these events; more especially whether the Four Gospels, which appear to contain such testimony, are genuine. By the _Four Gospels_, we of course mean those commonly ascribed to SS. Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John; and by their being _genuine_, we mean that they were written, or compiled by those persons. And we will first consider the _external testimony_ borne by early Christian writers to these Gospels, leaving _the internal evidence_ from the Books themselves for the next chapter. It may be mentioned at starting that we have no complete manuscripts of the Gospels earlier than the beginning of the fourth century; but there is nothing surprising in this, as for the first two centuries books were generally written on _papyrus_, an extremely fragile material. Therefore, with the exception of some fragments preserved in Egypt, all documents of this period have entirely perished. A much better material, _vellum_, began to take the place of papyrus in the third century; but did not come into common use till the fourth. Moreover, during the persecutions, which occurred at intervals up to the fourth century, all Christian _writings_ were specially sought for, and destroyed. So the absence of earlier manuscripts though very unfortunate, is not perhaps unnatural; and it is anyhow no worse than in the case of classical works. I have seen it stated, for instance, that there are no manuscripts of either Cicero, Cæsar, Tacitus, or Josephus, within 800 years of their time. (_A._) THE UNDISPUTED TESTIMONY. Passing on now to the testimony of early writers; we need not begin later than the end of the second century; since it is admitted by everyone that our Four Gospels were then well known. They were continually quoted by Christian writers; they were universally ascribed to the authors we now ascribe them to; and they were always considered to be in some sense divinely inspired. As this is undisputed, we need not discuss the evidence; but one writer deserves to be mentioned, which is _Irenæus_, Bishop of Lyons. His works date from about A.D. 185; and he not only quotes the Gospels frequently (about 500 times altogether), but shows there were only _four_ of acknowledged authority. Since the fanciful analogies he gives for this, likening the four Gospels to the four rivers in Paradise, and the four quarters of the globe, render it certain that the fact of there being four, neither more nor less, must have been undisputed in his day. Moreover he had excellent means of knowing the truth; for he was born in Asia Minor, about A.D. 130, and brought up under Polycarp, Bishop of Smyrna. And in later years he tells us how well he remembered his teacher. 'I can even describe the place where the blessed Polycarp used to sit and discourse--his going out, too, and his coming in--his general mode of life and personal appearance, together with the discourses which he delivered to the people; also how he would speak of his familiar intercourse with John, and with the rest of those who had seen the Lord; and how he would call their words to remembrance.'[182] [Footnote 182: Irenæus, Fragment of Epistle to Florinus. The translations here and elsewhere are from the Ante-Nicene Christian Library.] The importance of this passage, especially in regard to the Fourth Gospel, can scarcely be exaggerated. For is it conceivable that Irenæus would have ascribed it to St. John, unless his teacher Polycarp had done the same? Or is it conceivable that Polycarp, who personally knew St. John, could have been mistaken in the matter? The difficulties of either alternative are very great; yet there is no other, unless we admit that St. John was the author. It should also be noticed that Irenæus, when discussing two readings of Rev. 13. 18, supports one of them by saying that it is found _in all the most approved and ancient copies_; and was also maintained by men _who saw John face to face_.[183] He had thus some idea as to the value of evidence; and he is not likely to have written as he did about the Four Gospels, unless he had seen of them equally _approved and ancient_ copies. [Footnote 183: Irenæus, Bk. 5. 30.] (_B._) THE ALMOST UNDISPUTED TESTIMONY. We next come to the testimony of some earlier writers, which was formerly much disputed, but is now admitted by nearly all critics. (1.) _Justin Martyr._ By far the most important of these is _Justin Martyr_; whose works--two _Apologies_ (or books written in defence of Christianity) and a _Dialogue_--date from about A.D. 145-50. He was no ordinary convert, but a philosopher, and says that before he became a Christian, he studied various philosophical systems and found them unsatisfactory; so we may be sure that he did not accept Christianity without making some inquiries as to the facts on which it rested.[184] And as his father and grandfather were natives of Palestine, where he was born, he had ample means of finding out the truth. [Footnote 184: Dial., 2.] Now Justin does not allude to any of the Evangelists by name, but he frequently quotes from the '_Memoirs of the Apostles_,' which he says were sometimes called _Gospels_,[185] and were publicly read and explained in the churches, together with the Old Testament Prophets. And he gives no hint that this was a local or recent practice, but implies that it was the universal and well-established custom. These Memoirs, he tells us,[186] were written _by the Apostles and their followers_, which exactly suits our present Gospels, two of which are ascribed to Apostles (St. Matthew and St. John), and the other two to their immediate followers (St. Mark and St. Luke). And as Justin was writing for unbelievers, not Christians, there is nothing strange in his not mentioning the names of the individual writers. [Footnote 185: Apol. 1. 66; Dial., 100.] [Footnote 186: Dial., 103.] He has altogether about sixty quotations from these Memoirs, and they describe precisely those events in the life of Christ; which are recorded in our Gospels, with scarcely any addition. Very few of the quotations however are verbally accurate, and this used to be thought a difficulty. But as Justin sometimes quotes the same passage differently, it is clear that he was relying on his memory; and had not looked up the reference, which in those days of manuscripts, without concordances, must have been a tedious process. Also when quoting the Old Testament, he is almost equally inaccurate. Moreover later writers, such as Irenæus, who avowedly quoted from our Gospels, are also inaccurate in small details. It is hence practically certain that Justin was quoting from these Gospels. (2.) _Tatian._ And this is strongly confirmed by Justin's disciple, _Tatian_. He wrote a book about A.D. 175, discovered last century, called the _Diatessaron_, which, as its name implies, was a kind of harmony of _Four_ Gospels. It was based chiefly on St. Matthew's, the events peculiar to the others being introduced in various places. And its containing nearly the whole of _St. John's_ Gospel is satisfactory; because it so happens that Justin has fewer quotations from that Gospel, than from the other three. We may say then with confidence, that our four Gospels were well known to Christians, and highly valued by them, in the middle of the second century. (3.) _Marcion._ Another important witness is Marcion. He wrote (not later than A.D. 140), a kind of Gospel, so similar to St. Luke's that one was evidently based on the other. And though his actual work is lost, Tertullian (about A.D. 200) quotes it so fully that it is fairly well-known; and that St. Luke's is the earlier is now admitted by critics of all schools. Therefore as Matthew and Mark are generally allowed to be earlier than Luke, this shows that all these Gospels were in circulation before A.D. 140. (_C._) THE DISPUTED TESTIMONY. We pass on now to the testimony of still earlier writers, all of which is more or less disputed by some critics. (1.) _Papias._ And first as to Papias. He was bishop of Hierapolis in Asia Minor (about a hundred miles from Ephesus) early in the second century; and only a few fragments of his writings have been preserved by Irenæus and Eusebius. We learn from the former that he was a disciple of St. John and a companion of Polycarp; and considering that Irenæus was himself Polycarp's pupil, there is no reason to doubt this.[187] Now Papias tells us himself what were his sources of information: 'If, then, anyone who had attended on the elders came, I asked minutely after their sayings,--what Andrew or Peter said, or what was said by Philip, or by Thomas, or by James, or by John, or by Matthew, or by any other of the Lord's disciples: which things Aristion and the presbyter John, the disciples of the Lord, say. For I imagined that what was to be got from books was not so profitable to me as what came from the living and abiding voice.' [Footnote 187: Irenæus, Bk. 5. 33.] He had thus very good means of knowing the truth, for though the Apostles themselves were dead, two of Christ's disciples (Aristion and the presbyter John) were still alive when he made his inquiries. And he refers to the first two Gospels by name. He says, 'Matthew put together the oracles in the Hebrew language, and each one interpreted them as best he could.' And 'Mark, having become the interpreter of Peter, wrote down accurately whatsoever he remembered. It was not, however, in exact order that he related the sayings or deeds of Christ. For he neither heard the Lord nor accompanied Him. But afterwards, as I said, he accompanied Peter.'[188] [Footnote 188: Eusebius, Hist., iii. 39.] And his testimony in regard to _St. Matthew_ is specially important, because in the passage just quoted he says that he had spoken to those who had known St. Matthew personally; and had carefully questioned them about what he had said. And this makes it difficult to believe that he should have been mistaken as to his having written the Gospel. Nor is it likely that the work of St. Matthew known to Papias was different from the Gospel which we now have, and which was so frequently quoted by Justin a few years later. Whether Papias was acquainted with the Third and Fourth Gospels cannot be decided for certain, unless his works should be recovered; but there are slight indications that he knew them. (2.) _Aristides._ Next as to Aristides. He was a philosopher at Athens, and addressed an Apology to the Emperor, Hadrian, in A.D. 125, which was recovered in 1889. He has no _quotation_ from the Gospels, but what is equally important, he gives a summary of Christian doctrine, including the Divinity, Incarnation, Virgin-Birth, Resurrection and Ascension of Christ; and says that it is _taught in the Gospel_, where men can _read_ it for themselves. And this shows that some Gospel, containing this teaching, was then in existence, and easily accessible. (3.) _The Apostolic Fathers._ The last group of writers to be examined are those who lived soon after the Apostles. The chief of these are _Polycarp_ of Smyrna, the disciple of St. John, martyred in A.D. 155, when he had been a Christian 86 years; _Ignatius_ of Antioch, also martyred in his old age, about A.D. 110; _Clement_ of Rome, perhaps the companion of St. Paul;[189] and the writers of the so-called _Epistle of Barnabas_, and _Teaching of the Twelve Apostles_. Their dates are not known for certain, but it is now generally admitted by rationalists as well as Christians that they all wrote before A.D. 120, and probably before 110. Thus the _Encyclopædia Biblica_ (article _Gospels_) dates their works, Polycarp 110; Ignatius (7 Epistles) before 110; Barnabas, probably before 100; Clement 95; Teaching 80-100. [Footnote 189: Phil. 4. 3.] Now none of these writers mention the Gospels by _name_; but this is no argument to show that they were not quoting them, because the same writers, when admittedly quoting St. Paul's Epistles, also do it at times, without in any way referring to him. And later Christian writers do precisely the same; the Gospels are often not quoted by name, but their language is continually employed, much as it is by preachers at the present day. If, then, we find in these writers passages similar to those in our Gospels, the inference is that they are quoting from them; and, as a matter of fact, we do find such passages, though they are not numerous. A single example may be given from each. _Polycarp._ 'But being mindful of what the Lord said in His teaching; Judge not, that ye be not judged; forgive, and it shall be forgiven unto you; be merciful, that ye may obtain mercy; with what measure ye mete, it shall be measured to you again; and once more, Blessed are the poor, and those that are persecuted for righteousness' sake, for theirs is the kingdom of God.'[190] [Footnote 190: Polycarp, ch. ii.; Luke 6. 36-38; Matt. 5. 3, 10.] _Ignatius._ 'For I know that after His Resurrection also, He was still possessed of flesh, and I believe that He is so now. When, for instance, He came to those who were with Peter, He said to them, "Lay hold, handle Me, and see that I am not an incorporeal spirit."'[191] [Footnote 191: Ignatius to Smyrnæans, ch. iii.; Luke 24. 39.] _Barnabas._ 'Let us beware lest we be found, as it is written, Many are called, but few are chosen.'[192] [Footnote 192: Barnabas, ch. iv.; Matt. 22. 14.] _Clement._ 'Remember the words of our Lord Jesus Christ, how He said, Woe to that man! It were better for him that he had never been born, than that he should cast a stumbling-block before one of my elect. Yea, it were better for him that a millstone should be hung about (his neck), and he should be sunk in the depths of the sea, than that he should cast a stumbling-block before one of my little ones.'[193] [Footnote 193: Clement, ch. xlvi.; Luke 17. 1. 2.] _Teaching._ 'Having said beforehand all these things, baptize ye in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost in living water.'[194] [Footnote 194: Teaching, ch. vii.; Matt. 28. 19.] The passage from Barnabas deserves special mention, since here we have words which only occur in our Gospels, introduced with the phrase _as it is written_, which is only used of Scripture quotations. And this shows conclusively that at the time of the writer, some Gospel containing these words must have been well known, and considered of high authority. And the attempts to explain it away as being from the Book of Esdras,[195] where the words are, 'There be many created, but few shall be saved;' or else as an error on the part of the writer, who thought they came somewhere in the Old Testament, are quite inadmissible. [Footnote 195: 2 Esdr. 8. 3.] But it may be said, may not all these quotations be from some _Lost Gospel_? Of course they may. It is always possible to refer quotations not to the only book in which we know they do occur, but to some imaginary book in which they might occur. There is, however, no need to do so in this case, as all the evidence points the other way. Though, even if we do, it does not materially affect the argument; for while it weakens the evidence for our Gospels, it increases that for the _facts_ which they record; and this is the important point. Suppose, for instance, the passage in Ignatius was not taken from St. Luke's, but from some _Lost_ Gospel. It could not then be quoted to show that St. Luke's Gospel was known to Ignatius. But it would afford additional evidence that Christ really did rise from the dead, that when He appeared to His Apostles, they at first thought He was a spirit; and that He took the obvious means of convincing them, by asking them to handle His Body. All this would then be vouched for, not only by St. Luke's Gospel; but also by some _other_ early Christian writing, which as Ignatius quotes it in A.D. 110 must certainly have been written in the first century, and must have been considered by him as conclusive evidence. For he is careful to distinguish between what he thus _knows_ (that Christ had a Body after His Resurrection) and what he merely _believes_ (that He has one now). And the same applies in other cases. And if it be further urged that these writers would have referred more frequently to the Gospels, had they really known them, we must remember that their writings are generally short; and while a single quotation proves the previous existence of the document quoted, ten pages without a quotation do not disprove it. Moreover when they refer to the sayings of Christ, or the events of His life, they always do so without the slightest hesitation; as if everyone acknowledged them to be true. And as we have seen, their allusions often begin with the words _remember_ or _be mindful of_, clearly showing that they expected their readers to know them already. Hence some books must then have existed which were well known, containing a life of Christ; and the improbability of these having perished, and a fresh set of Gospels having been published in a few years, is very great. And the evidence in regard to the _Third_ Gospel is particularly strong, since it was addressed to Theophilus, who was clearly a prominent convert; and he must have known from whom the book came, even if for some reason this was not stated in the heading. And as he is not likely to have kept it secret, the authorship of the book must have been well known to Christians from the very beginning. Therefore the testimony of early writers, like Irenæus, who always ascribed it to St. Luke, becomes of exceptional value; and makes it almost certain that he was the author. We may now sum up the _external testimony_ to the Four Gospels. It shows that at the _beginning_ of the second century they were well known to Christian writers, and this alone would necessitate their having been written in the first century, or at all events before A.D. 110. And thanks to modern discoveries, especially that of the _Diatessaron_, this is now generally admitted. It may indeed be considered as one of the definite results of recent controversies. But if so, it is, to say the least, distinctly probable that they were written by the men to whom they have been universally ascribed. We have thus strong external testimony in favour of the genuineness of the Four Gospels. CHAPTER XV. THAT THE GOSPELS ARE GENUINE FROM INTERNAL EVIDENCE. (_A._) THE FIRST THREE GOSPELS. (1.) Their general accuracy; this is shown by secular history, where they can be tested. (2.) Their sources; the triple tradition; other early documents. (3.) Their probable date; before the destruction of Jerusalem, A.D. 70. (_B._) THE FOURTH GOSPEL. (1.) Its authorship. The writer appears to have lived in the first century, and to have been an eye-witness of what he describes; so probably St. John. (2.) Its connection with the other Gospels. It was meant to supplement them; and it does not show a different Christ, either in language or character. (3.) Its connection with the Book of Revelation. This admitted to be by St. John, and the Gospel was probably by the same author. Having decided in the last chapter that the Four Gospels are probably genuine from _external testimony_, we pass on now to the _internal evidence_, which, it will be seen, strongly supports this conclusion. For convenience we will examine the first Three, commonly called the _Synoptic_ Gospels, separately from the Fourth, which is of a different character. (_A._) THE FIRST THREE GOSPELS. In dealing with these Gospels, we will first consider their general accuracy, then their sources, and then their probable date. (1.) _Their general accuracy._ It is now admitted by everyone that the writers show a thorough acquaintance with Palestine both as to its geography, history, and people, especially the political and social state of the country in the half-century preceding the fall of Jerusalem (A.D. 70). The Jewish historian Josephus, who wrote about A.D. 95, gives us a vivid description of this; and everything we read in the Gospels is in entire agreement with it. In regard to the actual events recorded, we have, as a rule, no other account, but where we have, with the doubtful exception of the enrolment under _Quirinius_, their accuracy is fully confirmed. According to St. Luke[196] this enrolment occurred while Herod was king, and therefore not later than what we now call B.C. 4, when Herod died; but, according to Josephus and other authorities, Quirinius was Governor of Syria, and carried out his taxing in A.D. 6. [Footnote 196: Luke 2. 2 (R.V.).] This used to be thought one of the most serious mistakes in the Bible, but modern discoveries have shown that it is probably correct. To begin with, an inscription was found at Tivoli in 1764, which shows that Quirinius was _twice_ Governor of Syria, or at least held some important office there. And this has been confirmed quite recently by an inscription found at Antioch, which shows that the former time was about B.C. 7.[197] There is thus very likely an end of that difficulty, though it must be admitted that it would place the birth of Christ a little earlier than the usually accepted B.C. 4, which however some critics think probable for other reasons. [Footnote 197: Ramsay, 'Bearing of Recent Discovery on New Testament.' 1915, p. 285-292.] Next it will be noticed that St. Luke says that this was the _first_ enrolment, implying that he knew of others; and discoveries in Egypt have confirmed this in a remarkable manner. For they have shown that it was the custom of the Romans to have a _periodical_ enrolment of that country (and therefore presumably of the adjacent country of Syria) every fourteen years. Some of the actual census papers have been found for A.D. 20, 48, 62, 76, etc., and it is extremely probable that the system started in B.C. 9-8, though the first enrolment may have been delayed a few years in Palestine, which was partly independent. And St. Luke's statement that everyone had to go to _his own city_, which was long thought to be a difficulty, has been partly confirmed as well. For a decree has been discovered in Egypt, dated in the seventh year of Trajan (A.D. 104), ordering all persons to return to their own districts before the approaching census,[198] which is worded as if it were the usual custom. The next census in A.D. 6, which is the one referred to by Josephus, is also mentioned by St. Luke;[199] but he knew, what his critics did not, that it was only one of a series, and that the _first_ of the series took place at an earlier date. [Footnote 198: Ramsay, p. 259.] [Footnote 199: Acts. 5. 37.] Curiously enough, there used to be a very similar error, charged against St. Luke, in regard to Lysanias; whom he says was tetrarch of Abilene, a district near Damascus, in the fifteenth year of Tiberius, about A.D. 27.[200] Yet the only ruler of this name known to history in those parts was a king, who was killed in B.C. 34. But inscriptions found at Baalbec, and Abila (the latter dating somewhere between A.D. 14-29) show that there was a second Lysanias, hitherto unknown, who is expressly called the _tetrarch_ and who is now admitted to be the one referred to by St. Luke.[201] On the whole then, these Gospels, wherever we have any means of testing them by secular history, appear to be substantially accurate. [Footnote 200: Luke 3. 1.] [Footnote 201: Boeckh's Corp. Ins. Gr., No. 4523; Ramsay, 'Bearing of Recent Discovery on New Testament.' 1915, p. 298.] But it may be said, do not the Gospels themselves contradict one another in some places, and if so they cannot all be correct? Now that there are some apparent contradictions, especially in the narratives of the Resurrection (see Chapter XVII.), must of course be admitted; but many of these can be explained satisfactorily, and those which cannot are as a rule quite trivial. For example,[202] St. Matthew relates that at Christ's Baptism the Voice from Heaven said, '_This_ is my beloved Son in _whom_ I am well pleased;' and the other Evangelists, '_Thou_ art my beloved Son, in _thee_ I am well pleased.' There is a clear verbal discrepancy, whatever words were used, or in whatever language they were spoken. Again, St. Matthew records the passage about the Queen of the South as being spoken just after, and St. Luke as just before, the similar passage about the men of Nineveh, though both can hardly be correct. Such mistakes as these, however, do not interfere with the substantial accuracy of the narratives. [Footnote 202: Matt. 3. 17; 12. 42; Mark 1. 11; Luke 3. 22; 11. 31.] (2.) _Their sources._ Now the first three Gospels have, as is well known, a number of identical passages, which must plainly be due to _copying_ in some form, either two Evangelists copying the third, or all three some earlier document. The portion they have in common (often called the _Triple Tradition_) includes some of the parables of Christ, and several of His miracles, such as calming the storm, feeding the five thousand, curing the man at Gadara, and raising the daughter of Jairus. If, as is probable, it represents the testimony of a single witness, there is little difficulty in identifying him with St. Peter. But it is _most unlikely_ for the _whole_ of this earlier document to have been included in three separate Gospels; it is sure to have contained something that was only copied by one or two. Therefore most scholars are now of opinion that the so-called Triple Tradition was merely our St. Mark's Gospel, practically all of which was copied, either by St. Matthew or St. Luke, if not by both. And this is certainly probable, for the many graphic details in this Gospel show that it must date from an extremely early time; so it was most likely known to the other Evangelists. It would also agree with the statement of Papias (quoted in the last chapter) that St. Mark got his information from St. Peter. And as some of it has to do with events, such as the Transfiguration, when St. Peter was present, and St. Matthew was not, there is nothing improbable in St. Matthew (as well as St. Luke) including part of it in his Gospel. This however is not all; for our first and third Gospels also contain a good deal in common, which is not in Mark, and this looks like another older document, often called 'Q' from the German _Quelle_, meaning '_source_.' It consists chiefly of discourses and parables, though including at least one miracle, that of healing the centurion's servant, and is admitted by most critics to date from before A.D. 50. But here again, it is unlikely for the _whole_ of this earlier document to have been included in two separate Gospels, it is sure to have contained something else besides. Moreover, _as thus restored_ (from Matthew and Luke) it is obviously incomplete. It contains scarcely any narrative to explain how the discourses arose, and of necessity it omits everything in Christ's life which is recorded by St. Mark as well, for this has been already assigned to the so-called Triple Tradition. Therefore when it was complete, it must have contained a good deal more, which may well have been the remainder of our St. Matthew's Gospel. St. Luke would then have only included _a part_ of what St. Matthew wrote, just as they both only included a part of what St. Mark wrote. And the supposed second document would be our St. Matthew's Gospel, just as the supposed Triple Tradition is now thought to be our St. Mark's Gospel. There are difficulties on every theory, but on the whole this seems as satisfactory as any other, and it accounts fairly well for the first two Gospels. But the third Gospel requires further explanation, for besides what is copied from the other two, it contains a good deal of additional matter, such as the parable of the Prodigal Son, which St. Luke must have got from some other source. While he expressly says that _many_ had written before himself; so there were several such sources in existence. And this was only natural, for the Christian religion spread rapidly, and St. Luke himself shows us what its converts were taught. For he says that he only wrote his Gospel to convince Theophilus of the things about which he had already been instructed.[203] Clearly then the course of instruction must have included what the Gospel included; and this was the whole of Christ's life, from His Virgin-Birth to His Ascension. It is hence probable that from the very first Christian teachers had some account of that life. [Footnote 203: Luke 1. 1-4.] And this probability becomes almost a certainty in the light of modern discoveries. For quantities of old _papyri_ have been found in Egypt, which show that at the time of Christ, writing was in common use among all classes; soldiers, farmers, servants, schoolboys, were all accustomed to write. Therefore, as it has been well said, 'so far as antecedent probability goes, founded on the general character of preceding and contemporary society, the first Christian account of the circumstances connected with the death of Jesus must be presumed to have been written in the year when Jesus died.'[204] And since St. Luke, when he was at Jerusalem met several of the _elders_ there, including Christ's brother, St. James,[205] he probably had access to all existing documents. [Footnote 204: Ramsay, Transactions of Victoria Institute, vol. xxxix., 1907, p. 203.] [Footnote 205: Acts 21. 18.] There is thus no reason to doubt his own statement, that he had ample means of knowing the truth, _from the beginning_. And this, he says, was the very reason why he determined to write; so a more trustworthy historian can scarcely be imagined.[206] Fortunately, however, though dividing the Gospels into their original parts is an interesting study, it is in no way essential to our present argument. [Footnote 206: Luke 1. 2-3.] (3.) _Their probable date._ We now come to the _probable date_ of the first three Gospels; and there are strong reasons for fixing this before the fall of Jerusalem, in A.D. 70. In the first place several _subjects_ are discussed, such as the lawfulness of the Jews paying tribute to Cæsar,[207] which would have had no interest after that event. And that conversations on such subjects should have been composed in later days, or even thought worth recording, is most unlikely. Nor are Christ's instructions as to what persons should do when they bring their gifts to the altar, likely to have been recorded after the altar, and everything connected with it, had been totally destroyed.[208] [Footnote 207: Matt. 22. 17.] [Footnote 208: Matt. 5. 24.] Secondly, nearly all the _parables_ of Christ have very strong marks of truthfulness, as they are thoroughly natural in character, and suit the customs and scenery of Palestine. Moreover, they are unique in Christian literature. However strange we may think it, the early Christians never seem to have adopted Christ's method of teaching by parables. Yet, if they had composed these parables, instead of merely recording them, they would doubtless have composed others like them. It is hence probable that these discourses are genuine; and, if so, they must obviously have been written down very soon afterwards. Thirdly, there are a few passages which deserve special mention. Two of these are Christ's saying that (apparently) there would not be time to go through the cities of Israel before His Second Coming; and that some of His hearers would not die till the end of the world.[209] That such statements should have been composed in later years is out of the question; so we can only conclude that they were actually spoken by Christ. And they show that the Gospels must not only have been written when some of Christ's hearers were still alive, but that they could not have been revised afterwards; or the passages would not have been allowed to remain as they are. [Footnote 209: Matt. 10. 23; 16. 28; Mark 9. 1; Luke 9. 27; but some other texts imply the contrary--_e.g._, Matt. 21. 43; Mark 13. 7, 10; 14. 9; Luke 21. 24.] Another is the statement that the potter's field was called the field of blood _unto this day_;[210] which could scarcely have been written when the whole city was little more than a heap of ruins. Of course, on the other hand, it could not have been written immediately after the time of Christ, but twenty years would probably be a sufficient interval. [Footnote 210: Matt. 27. 8; see also 28. 15.] Fourthly, there is the prophetic description of the _fall of Jerusalem_ itself, which seems confused by the Evangelists with that of the Day of Judgment, St. Matthew saying, and both the others implying, that the one would immediately follow the other.[211] Had the Gospels been written after the former event, it is almost certain that the writers would have distinguished between the two; indeed, their not doing so is scarcely intelligible, unless we assume that when they wrote, both events were still future. [Footnote 211: Matt. 24. 3, 29; Mark 13. 24; Luke 21. 27.] And this is confirmed by the curious hint given to the readers both in Matthew and Mark to _understand_, and act on Christ's advice, and leave the city and go to the mountains, before the siege became too severe.[212] Plainly such a warning could not have been written _after_ the siege, when it would have been useless. It must have been written _before_; so if it is a later insertion, as it seems to be, it proves a still earlier date for the rest of the chapter. Moreover, none of the Evangelists have altered the passage, as later writers might have done, to make it agree with the event; since as far as we know, the Christians did not go to _the mountains_, but to Pella, a city in the Jordan valley.[213] [Footnote 212: Matt. 24. 16; Mark 13. 14; Luke 21. 21.] [Footnote 213: Eusebius, Hist., iii. 5.] St. Luke, it will be noticed, omits the hint just referred to, and as his account of Christ's prophecy of the siege is rather more detailed than the others, it is sometimes thought to have been written _after_ the event. But this is a needless assumption, for the hint would have been quite useless to Theophilus, to whom the Gospel was addressed; and the prophecy is anyhow no closer than that in Deut. 28., which everyone admits was written centuries before (Chapter XI.). On the whole, then, everything points to our first three Gospels having been written some years before the destruction of Jerusalem, A.D. 70; and most likely by the Evangelists, to whom they have been universally ascribed. It may also be added, in regard to the Evangelists themselves, _St. Matthew_ the Apostle was a publican or tax-collector, so just the sort of person to keep records, in either Greek or Hebrew.[214] _St. Mark_ came of a wealthy family, as his relative, Barnabas, had some property; and his mother, Mary, had a large house at Jerusalem, where Christians used to assemble, and where it has been thought the Last Supper was held.[215] And the _young man_ who followed from here to Gethsemane was probably St. Mark himself, or he would not have recorded such a trivial incident.[216] [Footnote 214: Matt. 9. 9.] [Footnote 215: Acts 4. 37; 12. 12; 1. 13; Col. 4. 10.] [Footnote 216: Mark 14. 51.] And _St. Luke_, as we shall see in the next chapter, was a doctor, who says he got his information from _eye-witnesses_. And if he was the companion of Cleopas, as is perhaps probable (for such a graphic narrative must have come from one who was present, yet the language is thoroughly that of St. Luke), he would also have had some slight knowledge of Christ himself.[217] And in similar cases where St. John speaks of two disciples, but gives the name of only one, it is practically certain that he himself was the other.[218] Moreover St. Luke says that his Gospel, which only goes as far as the Ascension, was about _those matters which have been fulfilled among us_[219] (_i.e._, which have _occurred_ among us), and this implies that it was written in Palestine at a very early date, and that St. Luke himself was there during at least part of the time referred to. [Footnote 217: Luke 24. 18; _Expositor_, Feb., 1904.] [Footnote 218: John 1. 40; 18. 15.] [Footnote 219: Luke 1. 1. (R.V.). A short paper on _Fulfilled among us_, by the present writer, appeared in the _Churchman_, Aug. 1914.] All three must thus have been well-educated men, and quite in a position to write Gospels if they wanted to. While as none of them seem to have taken a prominent part in the founding of Christianity, there was no reason for ascribing the Gospels to them, rather than to such great men as St. Peter and St. Paul, unless they actually wrote them. (_B._) THE FOURTH GOSPEL. We pass on now to the Fourth Gospel, and will first examine the internal arguments as to its authorship, which are strongly in favour of its being the work of St. John; and then the two arguments on the opposite side, said to be derived from its connection with the other Gospels, and the Book of Revelation. (1.) _Its authorship._ To begin with, the writer appears to have lived in the _first century_. This is probable from his intimate acquaintance with Jerusalem, and as before said that city was only a heap of ruins after A.D. 70. Thus he speaks of Bethesda, the pool near the sheep-gate, having five porches; of Solomon's porch; of the pool of Siloam; and of the Temple, with its treasury; its oxen, sheep, and doves for sacrifice; and its money-changers for changing foreign money into Jewish, in which alone the Temple tax could be paid. And his mention of Bethesda is specially interesting as he uses the present tense, _There is in Jerusalem_, etc., implying that the gate and porches were still standing (and therefore the city not yet destroyed) when he wrote.[220] [Footnote 220: John 5. 2.] Secondly, the writer appears to have been an _eye-witness_ of what he describes. He twice asserts this himself, as well as in an Epistle which is generally admitted to be by the same writer, where he declares that he had both seen, heard, and touched his Master.[221] So, if this is not true, the work must be a deliberate forgery; which is certainly improbable. Moreover, he frequently identifies himself with the Twelve Apostles, recording their feelings and reflections in a way which would be very unlikely for any late writer to have thought of. Would a late writer, for instance, have thought of inventing questions which the Apostles wanted to ask their Master, but were afraid to do so? Or would he have thought it worth repeating so often that they did not understand at the time the real significance of the events they took part in?[222] [Footnote 221: John 1. 14; 19. 35; 1 John 1. 1.] [Footnote 222: _E.g._, John 2. 17, 22; 4. 27; 13. 28; 16. 17.] The author is also very particular as to times and places. Take, for instance, the passage 1. 29-2. 12, with its expressions _On the morrow_, _Again on the morrow_, _About the tenth hour_, _On the morrow_, _And the third day_, _And there they abode not many days_. It reads like extracts from an old diary, and why should all these insignificant details be recorded? What did it matter half a century later whether it was the same day, or on the morrow, or the third day; or whether they stayed many days in Capernaum, or only a few; as no hint is given as to why they went there, or what they did? The only reasonable explanation is that the writer was present himself (being of course the unnamed companion of St. Andrew); that this was the turning-point in his life when he first saw his Lord; and that therefore he loved to recall every detail. And it may be noticed in passing that this passage explains an apparent difficulty in the other Gospels, where it is stated that these Apostles were called to follow Christ, after the death of St. John the Baptist; though with a suddenness and ready obedience on their part, which is hard to believe.[223] But we here learn that they had already been with Christ some months before, in company with the Baptist, so they were doubtless prepared for the call when it came. And the passage, like many others, bears internal marks of truthfulness. In particular may be mentioned the words of Nathanael, _Thou art the Son of God, thou art the King of Israel_, implying that the latter title was at least as honourable as the former. No Christian in later times, when Christ was obviously not the King of Israel (except in a purely spiritual sense), and when the title _Son of God_ had come to mean so much more than it ever did to the Jews, would have arranged it thus. [Footnote 223: _E.g._, Mark 1. 14-20.] Lastly, if we admit that the writer was an eye-witness, it can hardly be disputed that he was the Apostle _St. John_. Indeed, were he anyone else, it is strange that an Apostle of such importance should not be once mentioned throughout the Gospel. It is also significant that the other John, who is described in the first three Gospels as John the _Baptist_, to distinguish him from the Apostle, is here called merely _John_. No confusion could arise if, and only if, the writer himself were the Apostle John. While still more important is the fact that at the close of the Gospel, we have a solemn declaration made by the author's own friends that he was the _disciple whom Jesus loved_ (admitted by nearly everyone to be St. John), that he had witnessed the things he wrote about, and that what he said was true. And testimony more ancient or more conclusive can scarcely be imagined. With regard to the _date_ of the book, we can say little for certain. But the extreme care which is taken in these closing verses to explain exactly what Christ did, and did not say, as to St. John's dying, before His coming again, seems to imply that the matter was still undecided, in other words that St. John was still alive, though very old, when they were written. And if so the Gospel must have been _published_ (probably in some Gentile city, like Ephesus, from the way the Jews are spoken of)[224] towards the close of the first century; though a large part of it may have been _written_ in the shape of notes, etc., long before. [Footnote 224: _E.g._, John 2. 13; 5. 1; 6. 4.] (2.) _Its connection with the other Gospels._ But, as before said, there are two arguments against the genuineness of this Gospel. The first is that the Christ of the Fourth Gospel is almost a different person from the Christ of the other three. The _events_ of His life are different, His _language_ is different, and His _character_ is different; while, when the Gospels cover the same ground, there are _discrepancies_ between them. But every part of this objection admits of a satisfactory answer. To begin with, the fact that the Fourth Gospel narrates different _events_ in the life of Christ from what we find in the other three must of course be admitted. But what then? Why should not one biography of Christ narrate certain events in His life, which the writer thought important, but which had been omitted in previous accounts? This is what occurs frequently at the present day, and why should it not have occurred then? The Fourth Gospel may have been written on purpose to _supplement_ some other accounts. And there is strong evidence from the book itself that this was actually the case. For the writer refers to many events without describing them, and in such a way as to show that he thought his readers knew about them. He assumes, for instance, that they know about St. John the Baptist being imprisoned, about Joseph being the supposed father of Christ, and about the appointment of the Twelve.[225] It is probable then that the Gospel was written for well-instructed Christians, who possessed some other accounts of Christ's life. And everything points to these being our first three Gospels. [Footnote 225: John 3. 24; 6. 42, 70.] Then as to the _language_ ascribed to Christ in the Fourth Gospel being different from that in the others. This is no doubt partly true, especially in regard to His speaking of Himself as _the Son_, in the same way in which God is _the Father_. But it so happens that we have in these other Gospels at least three similar passages[226] which show that Christ did occasionally speak in this way. And there is no reason why St. John should not have preserved such discourses because the other Evangelists had omitted to do so. On the other hand, the title _Son of Man_ (applied to Christ) occurs repeatedly in all the Gospels, though strange to say only in the mouth of Christ Himself. This is a striking detail, in which St. John entirely agrees with the other Evangelists. [Footnote 226: Matt. 11. 25-27; 24. 36; 28. 19; Mark 13. 32; Luke 10. 21, 22.] The next part of the objection is that the _Character_ assigned to Christ in the Fourth Gospel is different from that in the other three; since instead of teaching moral virtues as in the Sermon on the Mount, He keeps asserting His own Divine nature. And this also is partly true, for the Fourth Gospel shows the Divinity of Christ more directly than the others, which only imply it (Chapter XXI.). And very probably the writer did so on purpose, thinking that this aspect of Christ's character had not been sufficiently emphasised in the previous accounts. Indeed, he implies it himself, for he says that he omitted much that he might have inserted, and merely recorded what he did in order to convince his readers that Jesus was the Christ, the Son of God.[227] [Footnote 227: John 20. 31.] But no argument for a late date can be drawn from this. Because four of St. Paul's Epistles (_i.e._ Rom.; 1 Cor.; 2 Cor.; and Gal.) which have been admitted to be genuine by critics of all schools, describe exactly the same Christ as we find in the Fourth Gospel, speaking of His Divinity, Pre-existence, and Incarnation (Chapter XXI.). And from the way in which St. Paul alludes to these doctrines he evidently considered them the common belief of all Christians when he wrote, about A.D. 55. So the fact of the Fourth Gospel laying stress on these doctrines is no reason whatever against either its genuineness or its early date. Indeed, it seems to supply just those discourses of Christ which are necessary to account for St. Paul's language. Lastly, as to the _discrepancies_. The one most often alleged is that according to the first three Gospels (in opposition to the Fourth) Christ's ministry never reached Jerusalem till just before His death. But this is a mistake, for though they do not relate His attendance at the Jewish feasts, like St. John does, they imply by the word _often_ ('How _often_ would I have gathered thy children,'[228] etc.) that He had frequently visited the city, and preached there. And one of them also refers to an earlier visit of Christ, to Martha and Mary, which shows that He had been to Bethany (close to Jerusalem) some time before.[229] [Footnote 228: Matt. 23. 37; Luke 13. 34.] [Footnote 229: Luke 10. 38.] Another difficulty (it is scarcely a discrepancy) is the fact that such a striking miracle as the raising of Lazarus, which is described in the Fourth Gospel, should have been _omitted_ in the other three. It is certainly strange, but these Evangelists themselves tell us there were _other_ instances of raising the dead, which they do not record,[230] and they probably knew of it, as it alone explains the great enthusiasm with which Christ was received at Jerusalem. This they all relate, and St. Luke's saying that it was due to the _mighty works_, which the people had _seen_, implies that there had been some striking miracles in the neighbourhood.[231] [Footnote 230: Matt. 10. 8; 11. 5; Luke 7. 22.] [Footnote 231: Luke 19. 37.] On the other hand, there are several _undesigned agreements_ between the Gospels, which are a strong argument in favour of their accuracy. Take, for instance, the accusation brought against Christ of destroying the Temple, and rebuilding it in three days. This is alluded to both by St. Matthew and St. Mark; but St. John alone records the words on which it was founded, though he does not mention the charge, and quotes the words in quite a different connection.[232] [Footnote 232: Matt. 26. 61; Mark 14. 58; John 2. 19.] Or take the Feeding of the five thousand.[233] St. Mark says that this occurred in a desert place, where Christ had gone for a short rest, and to avoid the crowd of persons who were _coming and going_ at Capernaum. But he gives no hint as to why there was this crowd just at that time. St. John says nothing about Christ's going to the desert, nor of the crowd which occasioned it; but he happens to mention, what fully explains both, that it was shortly before the Passover. Now we know that at the time of the Passover numbers of people came to Jerusalem from all parts; so Capernaum, which lay on a main road from the north, would naturally be crowded with persons _coming and going_. And this explains everything; even St. Mark's little detail, as to the people sitting on the _green_ grass, for grass is only green in Palestine in the spring, _i.e._, at the time of the Passover. But can anyone think that the writer of the Fourth Gospel purposely made his account to agree with the others, yet did this in such a way that not one reader in a hundred ever discovers it? The only reasonable explanation is that the event was true, and that both writers had independent knowledge of it. [Footnote 233: Matt. 14. 13; Mark 6. 31; Luke 9. 10; John 6. 4.] The objection, then, as to the connection of the Fourth Gospel with the other three must be put aside. It was plainly meant to _supplement_ them; and it shows not a different Christ, either in _language_ or _character_, but merely a different aspect of the same Christ, while the slight _discrepancies_, especially when combined with the undesigned coincidences, rather support its genuineness. (3.) _Its connection with the Book of Revelation._ We pass on now to the other argument. The Book of Revelation is generally admitted to be the work of St. John, and it is ascribed to him by Justin Martyr.[234] Its date is usually fixed at A.D. 68; though many critics prefer A.D. 95, which is the date given by Irenæus. [Footnote 234: Dial., 81.] Yet it is said it cannot be by the same writer as the Fourth Gospel because the _Greek_ is so different, that of the Revelation being very abrupt, with numerous faults of grammar, while the Gospel is in good Greek. Therefore it is urged that a Galilean fisherman like St. John, though he might have been sufficiently educated to have written the former, as his father was well off and kept servants, and he himself was a friend of the High Priest,[235] could scarcely have written the latter. Various explanations have been given of this. Perhaps the best is that the Revelation was written by St. John himself, since he is not likely to have had friends in Patmos; and that when writing the Gospel he had the assistance of a Greek disciple. [Footnote 235: Mark 1. 20; John 18. 15.] On the other side, it must be remembered that though the two books are different in language, they are the same in their _teaching_; for the great doctrine of the Fourth Gospel, that of the Divinity of Christ, is asserted almost as plainly in the Revelation. And even the striking expression that Christ is the _Logos_, or _Word_, occurs in both books, though it is not found elsewhere in the New Testament, except in one of St. John's Epistles.[236] And the same may be said of another striking expression, that Christ is the _Lamb_, which also occurs in the Gospel and Revelation, though not elsewhere in the New Testament.[237] This similarity in doctrine is indeed so marked that it strongly suggests the same authorship; and if so, it makes it practically certain that the Fourth Gospel was written by St. John. [Footnote 236: John 1. 1; 1 John 1. 1; Rev. 19. 13.] [Footnote 237: John 1. 29, 36; Rev. 6. 1; 14. 1.] On the whole, then, these objections are not serious; while, as already shown, the Fourth Gospel has very strong internal marks of genuineness. And when we combine these with the equally strong external testimony, it forces us to conclude that St. John was the author. This Gospel, then, like the other three, must be considered _genuine_; indeed, the evidence in favour of them all is overwhelming. CHAPTER XVI. THAT THE GOSPELS ARE GENUINE FROM THE EVIDENCE OF THE ACTS. Importance of the Acts, as it is by the writer of the Third Gospel. (_A._) ITS ACCURACY. Three examples of this: (1.) The titles of different rulers. (2.) The riot at Ephesus. (3.) The agreement with St. Paul's Epistles. (_B._) ITS AUTHORSHIP. The writer was a companion of St. Paul, and a medical man; so probably St. Luke. (_C._) ITS DATE. There are strong reasons for fixing this at the close of St. Paul's imprisonment at Rome, about A.D. 60; and this points to an earlier date for the first three Gospels. We have next to consider an argument of great importance derived from the Acts of the Apostles. This book is universally admitted to be by the same writer as the Third Gospel, as is indeed obvious from the manner in which both are addressed to Theophilus, from the _former treatise_ being mentioned in the opening verse of the Acts, and from the perfect agreement in style and language. Hence arguments for or against the antiquity of the Acts affect the Third Gospel also, and therefore, to some extent, the First and Second as well. So we will consider first its _accuracy_, then its _authorship_, and lastly its _date_. (_A._) ITS ACCURACY. Now, this book, unlike the Gospels, deals with a large number of public men and places, many of which are well known from secular history, while inscriptions referring to others have been recently discovered. It is thus liable to be detected at every step if inaccurate; yet, with the doubtful exception of the date of the rebellion of Theudas, and some details as to the death of Herod Agrippa, no error can be discovered. As this is practically undisputed, we need not discuss the evidence in detail, but will give three examples. (1.) _The titles of different rulers._ We will commence with the _titles_ given to different rulers. As is well known, the Roman provinces were of two kinds, some belonging to the Emperor, and some to the Senate. The former were governed by _proprætors_, or when less important by _procurators_, and the latter by _proconsuls_, though they frequently changed hands. Moreover, individual places had often special names for their rulers; yet in every case the writer of the Acts uses the proper title. For example, the ruler at Cyprus is rightly called _proconsul_.[238] This used to be thought a mistake, but we now know that it is correct; for though Cyprus had previously belonged to the Emperor, it had been exchanged with the Senate for another province before the time in question. And an inscription[239] found there at Soli has the words in Greek, _Paulus proconsul_, probably the Sergius Paulus of the Acts. Cyprus, it may be added, subsequently changed hands again. [Footnote 238: Acts. 13. 7.] [Footnote 239: Cyprus, by Cesnola (London, 1877), p. 425.] In the same way Gallio is correctly described as _proconsul_ of Achaia.[240] For though this province belonged to the Emperor for some years before A.D. 44, and was independent after A.D. 66, it belonged to the Senate in the interval, when the writer referred to it. And an inscription, recently found at Delphi, shows that Gallio was proconsul in A.D. 52, which agrees well with the chronology of the Acts.[241] Equally correct is the title of _governor_ or _procurator_, applied to both Felix and Festus.[242] While it is satisfactory to add that the title _lord_, addressed to the Emperor Nero, which used to be thought rather a difficulty, as it was not known to have been adopted till the time of Domitian (A.D. 81-96), has now been found in papyri of the age of Nero.[243] [Footnote 240: Acts 18. 12.] [Footnote 241: Palestine Exploration Quarterly, July, 1913.] [Footnote 242: Acts 19. 38; 23. 26; 26. 30.] [Footnote 243: Acts 25. 26; Deissman, New Light on the New Testament, 1907, p. 80.] Again, Herod (_i.e._, Agrippa I.) shortly before his death, is styled _king_.[244] Now we learn from other sources that he had this title for the last three years of his government (A.D. 41-44), though there had been no king in Judæa for the previous thirty years, nor for many centuries afterwards. [Footnote 244: Acts 12. 1; Josephus, Antiq., xviii. 6, xix. 5.] Moreover, his son is also called _King_ Agrippa, though it is implied that he was not king of Judæa, which was governed by Festus, but of some other province. Yet, strange to say, he seems to have held some official position in regard to the Jews, since Festus _laid Paul's case before him_, as if he were in some way entitled to hear it.[245] And all this is quite correct; for Agrippa, though King of Chalcis, and not Judæa, was yet (being a Jew) entrusted by the Emperor with the management of the Jewish Temple and Treasury, and the choice of the High Priests, so he was a good deal mixed up in Jewish affairs.[246] And this, though only a trifle, is interesting; because a late writer, who had taken the trouble to study the subject, and find out the position Agrippa occupied, is not likely to have shown his knowledge in such a casual way. Scarcely anyone notices it. And equally correct is the remarkable fact that his sister _Bernice_ used to act with him on public occasions.[247] [Footnote 245: Acts 25. 13, 14.] [Footnote 246: Josephus, Antiq., xx., 1, 8, 9.] [Footnote 247: Acts 25. 23; Josephus, Wars, ii. 16; Life, xi.] Again at Malta we read of the _chief-man_ Publius; the accuracy of which title (for it is a _title_, and does not mean merely the most important man) is also proved by inscriptions, though as far as we know it was peculiar to that island.[248] At Thessalonica, on the other hand, the magistrates have the curious title of _politarchs_, translated 'rulers of the city.'[249] This name does not occur in any classical author in this form, so the writer of the Acts used to be accused of a blunder here. His critics were unaware that an old arch was standing all the time at this very place, the modern Salonica, with an inscription containing this very word, saying it was built when certain men were the politarchs. The arch was destroyed in 1876, but the stone containing the inscription was preserved, and is now in the British Museum.[250] And since then other inscriptions have been found, showing that the term was in use all through the first century. [Footnote 248: Acts 28. 7; Boeckh's Corp. Ins. Lat. X., No. 7495; Corp. Ins. Gr., No. 5754.] [Footnote 249: Acts 17. 6.] [Footnote 250: In the Central Hall, near the Library.] Nor is this accuracy confined to well-known places on the coast; it extends wherever the narrative extends, even to the interior of Asia Minor. For though the rulers there are not mentioned, the writer was evidently well acquainted with the places he refers to. Take _Lystra_, for instance.[251] According to the writer, it was a city of Lycaonia, though the adjacent town of Iconium was not, and this has been recently proved to be correct. And it is interesting, because many classical authors wrongly assign Iconium to Lycaonia; while Lystra, though belonging to that province in the first century, was separated from it early in the second; so a late writer, or one ignorant of the locality, might easily have made a mistake in either case. And an inscription found near Lystra, in 1909, shows that the two gods, Jupiter and Mercury (_i.e._, Zeus and Hermes) were commonly associated together by the inhabitants, as they are represented to be in the Acts. [Footnote 251: Acts 14. 1-12; Ramsay, Bearing of Recent Discovery on New Testament, 1915, pp. 48-63.] (2.) _The riot at Ephesus._ As a second example we will take the account of the _riot at Ephesus_. All the allusions here to the worship of Diana, including her image believed to have fallen from heaven (perhaps a meteorite roughly cut into shape), her magnificent shrine, the small silver models of this, her widespread worship, and the fanatical devotion of her worshippers, are all in strict agreement with what we know from other sources. Moreover, inscriptions discovered there have confirmed the narrative to a remarkable extent. They have shown that the _theatre_ was the recognised place of public meeting; that there were certain officers (who presided at the games, etc.) called _asiarchs_; that another well-known Ephesian officer was called the _town-clerk_; that Ephesus had the curious designation of _temple-keeper_ of Diana (long thought to be a difficulty); that _temple-robbing_ and _blasphemy_ were both crimes which were specially recognised by the Ephesian laws; and that the term _regular assembly_ was a technical one in use at Ephesus.[252] The reference to the _town-clerk_ is particularly interesting, because what is recorded of him is said to agree with the duties of the town-clerk at Ephesus, though not with those of the same official elsewhere.[253] All this minute accuracy is hard to explain unless the narrative came from one who was present during the riot, and recorded what he actually saw and heard. [Footnote 252: _Comp._ Acts 19. 29-39; with inscriptions found in the Great Theatre. Wood's Discoveries at Ephesus, 1877, pp. 43, 47, 53, 51, 15, 39.] [Footnote 253: Harnack, The Acts of the Apostles, translated by Wilkinson, 1909, p. 63.] (3.) _The agreement with St. Paul's Epistles._ Our third example shall be of a different kind. It is that if we compare the biography of St. Paul given in the Acts with the letters of that Apostle, many of them written to the very Churches and persons described there, we shall find numerous _undesigned agreements_ between them. And these, as before explained (Chapter X.) form a strong argument in favour of the accuracy of both. Take, for instance, the Epistle to the Romans. Though not dated, it was evidently written at the close of St. Paul's second visit to Greece; and therefore, if mentioned in the Acts, it would come in at Chapter 20. 3. And the following are two, out of the numerous points of agreement. The first is St. Paul's saying that he was going to Jerusalem, with alms from Macedonia and Achaia for the poor in that city. Now in the Acts it is stated that St. Paul had just passed through these provinces, and was on his way to Jerusalem, though there is no mention about the alms there. But it happens to be alluded to some chapters later, without, however, mentioning then where the alms came from.[254] The agreement is complete though it is certainly not designed. [Footnote 254: Rom. 15. 25, 26; Acts 19. 21; 24. 17.] The other refers to St. Paul's travels, which he says extended from Jerusalem as far as _Illyricum_. Now Illyricum is not once mentioned in the Acts; so there can be no intentional agreement here. And yet there is agreement. For we learn from various places that St. Paul had gone from Jerusalem all through what we now call Asia Minor, and just before the date of this Epistle had passed through Macedonia, which was his limit in this direction. And as this was the next province to Illyricum, it exactly agrees with the Epistle.[255] [Footnote 255: Rom. 15. 19; Acts 20. 2.] We may now sum up the evidence as to the accuracy of the Acts. The above instances are only specimens of many which might be given. The writer knew about Jerusalem and Athens just as well as about Ephesus. While his account of St. Paul's voyage from Cæsarea to Italy, including as it does, references to a number of places; to the climate, and prevailing winds of the Mediterranean; and to the phrases and customs of seamen, is so accurate, that critics of all schools have admitted that he is describing a voyage he had actually made. In short, the Book of the Acts is full of correct details throughout, and it is hard to believe that anyone but a contemporary could have written it. (_B._) ITS AUTHORSHIP. Now if we admit the general accuracy of the book, there is little difficulty in deciding on its _authorship_. As is well known, certain portions of it (describing some of St. Paul's travels, including his voyage to Italy) are written in the first person plural, and are commonly called the "_We_" sections.[256] This shows that the writer was a _companion_ of St. Paul at that time; and then the great similarity in _language_, between these sections and the rest of the book, shows that they had the same author. For they are both written in the same style, and they both contain over forty important words and expressions, which do not occur elsewhere in the New Testament, except in the Third Gospel. This is indeed so striking that it practically settles the point.[257] [Footnote 256: Acts 16. 9-40; 20. 5-21. 18; 27. 1-28. 16.] [Footnote 257: Harnack, Luke the Physician, translated by Wilkinson, 1907, p. 53.] But there are also slight _historical_ connections between the two portions. For example, in the earlier chapters some incidents are recorded, in which a certain Philip (one of the _Seven_) was concerned; and why should these have been selected? The writer was not present himself, and many far more important events must have occurred, of which he gives no account. But a casual verse in the _We_ sections explains everything: the writer, we are told, stayed _many days_ with Philip, and of course learnt these particulars then. And as it seems to have been his rule only to record what he knew for certain, he might well have left out other and more important events, of which he had not such accurate knowledge.[258] And the earlier reference, which ends with the apparently pointless remark that _Philip came to Cæsarea_, without saying why or wherefore, is also explained, since this was the place where the writer afterwards met him. It is then practically certain that the whole book was written by one man, and that he was a companion of St. Paul in many of his travels. [Footnote 258: Acts 6. 5; 8. 5, 26, 40; 21. 10.; Luke 1. 3.] It is also practically certain that he was a _medical man_. The evidence for this is overwhelming, but as the fact is generally admitted, we need not discuss it at length. All we need say is that 201 places have been counted in the Acts, and 252 in the Third Gospel, where words and expressions occur which are specially, and many of them exclusively, used by Greek medical writers, and which, with few exceptions, do not occur elsewhere, in the New Testament.[259] For instance, we read of the many proofs of the Resurrection; the word translated _proofs_ being frequently used by medical writers to express the infallible symptoms of a disease, as distinct from its mere signs, which may be doubtful, and they expressly give it this meaning. And we read of the restoration of all things; the word translated _restoration_ being the regular medical term for a complete recovery of a man's body or limb.[260] [Footnote 259: Hobart's Medical Language of St. Luke (1882); some of his examples are rather doubtful.] [Footnote 260: Acts 1. 3; 3. 21.] We conclude then, from the book itself, that the writer was an intimate friend of St. Paul and a medical man; and from one of St. Paul's Epistles we learn his name, _Luke the beloved physician_.[261] And this is confirmed by the fact that both this Epistle and that to Philemon, where St. Paul also names Luke as his companion, appear to have been written from Rome, when, as we know, the writer of the Acts was with him. And he seems to have remained with him to the last, _only Luke is with me_.[262] Yet this beloved and ever-faithful friend of St. Paul is not once named in the Acts, which would be most unlikely unless he were the author. [Footnote 261: Col. 4. 14; Philemon 24.] [Footnote 262: 2 Tim. 4. 11.] (_C._) ITS DATE. The _date_ of the book can also be fixed with tolerable certainty. It is implied in its abrupt ending. The last thing it narrates is St. Paul's living at Rome, two years before his expected trial (A.D. 58-60).[263] It says nothing about this trial, nor of St. Paul's release, nor of his subsequent travels, nor of his second trial and martyrdom (probably under Nero, A.D. 64); though had it been written after these events, it could hardly have failed to record them. This is especially the case as the martyrdom of St. Peter and St. Paul, which, according to early authorities, occurred together at Rome, would have formed such a suitable conclusion for a work chiefly concerned with their labours. [Footnote 263: Rackham's Commentary on the Acts, 1901, p. lxvii; many place it a year or two later, some a little earlier.] On the other hand, the abrupt ending of the book is at once accounted for if it was written at that time, about A.D. 60, by St. Luke, who did not relate anything further, because nothing further had then occurred. And it is obvious that these two years would not only have formed a most suitable period for its compilation, but that he is very likely to have sent it to his friend Theophilus just before the trial, perhaps somewhat hurriedly, not knowing whether it might not involve his own death, as well as that of St. Paul. This would also account for the great prominence given to the events of the immediately preceding years in Chapters 20. to 28., which is quite unintelligible, unless the book was written soon afterwards. They were nothing like as important as the events of the next few years, about which the writer says nothing. And why should he go through the earlier stages of St. Paul's arrest and trial, so carefully, step by step, from Lysias to Felix, from Felix to Festus, and then to Agrippa, and on to Rome; and then when he comes to the crisis, and the Apostle is about to appear before Cæsar, suddenly break off, without giving a hint as to which way it was decided? Everyone must feel how tantalising it is; and how unlikely he is to have stopped here, if he could have gone on. This abrupt ending, then, is the great argument for dating the book about A.D. 60; but it is supported by several others. In the first place, the journey to Rome itself, especially the shipwreck, is described with such minute and graphic details, that it seems likely to have been written down very soon afterwards, probably in that city. Secondly, the Roman judges and officials are always represented as treating the Christians with fairness, and even kindness; and the writer leaves St. Paul appealing to Cæsar, with every hope of a favourable verdict. There is no sign of bitterness or ill-feeling anywhere. And all this would have been most unlikely after the great persecution in A.D. 64; when Christians regarded Rome with the utmost horror.[264] Compare the somewhat similar case of the Indian Mutiny. Can we imagine an Englishman in India writing soon after the Mutiny a history, say of Cawnpore, up to 1854, and then closing it, without ever letting a hint fall that he was aware of the terrible tragedy which happened in 1857, or showing the slightest ill-feeling towards its perpetrators? The only reasonable conclusion would be that such a history must have been written _before_ the Mutiny. In the same way the Acts must have been written _before_ Nero's great persecution. [Footnote 264: _E.g._, Rev. 17. 6.] Thirdly, the same sort of argument is afforded by the destruction of Jerusalem in A.D. 70. Had the book been written after this, it is strange that the writer should seem to be entirely unaware of it; more especially as it had so close a bearing on the events described in the Acts, such as the Jewish law not being binding on Gentile Christians. And it is the more significant, because he records the prophecy of the event in his Gospel,[265] but nowhere hints that the prophecy had been fulfilled. [Footnote 265: Luke 19. 43.] Lastly, an early date is implied by the passage, where St. Paul tells his friends near Ephesus, that they would not see him again. It was quite natural for him to have said so at the time, as his feelings were very despondent; but no one, writing many years later, would have recorded it _without comment_; since it is almost certain that St. Paul, after his release from Rome, did revisit Ephesus.[266] [Footnote 266: Acts 20. 25, 38; 2 Tim. 4. 20.] On the whole, then, there is very strong evidence in favour of the Acts of the Apostles having been written by St. Luke about A.D. 60; and this of course proves an earlier date for _St. Luke's Gospel_. And this again proves a still earlier one for _St. Mark's Gospel_, which is now generally admitted to have been written before St. Luke's; and probably for _St. Matthew's_ as well. The evidence of the Acts, then, while confirming our previous conclusion that the first three Gospels were certainly written before A.D. 70, enables us to add with some confidence that they were also written before A.D. 60. And, it may be added, Prof. Harnack, who long maintained the opposite view, has at last accepted this early date for all these Gospels.[267] The book has of course no direct bearing on the date of St. John's Gospel. [Footnote 267: Date of Acts, and Synoptic Gospels, translated by Wilkinson, 1911, pp. 99, 133, 134. Some writers would place them still earlier. Thus Canon Birks, dates them all between A.D. 42-51, and he gives strong reasons for thinking that St. Luke, and his Gospel, are referred to in 2 Cor. 8. 18. (Horæ Evangelicæ, 1892, edit., pp. 259, 281, 293); and Archdeacon Allen places the second Gospel, about A.D. 44, and the first about A.D. 50. (Introduction to the Books of the New Testament, 1913, p. 13.)] CHAPTER XVII. THAT THE RESURRECTION OF CHRIST IS PROBABLY TRUE. (_A._) ITS IMPORTANCE. The third day, the empty tomb. (_B._) THE NARRATIVES. The various accounts, table of Christ's appearances, the three groups, the double farewell. (_C._) THEIR DIFFICULTIES. (1.) Discrepancies; often due to the appearances being placed together; the disciples going to Galilee. (2.) Omissions; the Gospels only record selected instances, and St. Paul refers to them in groups. (_D._) THEIR TRUTHFULNESS. (1.) Agreements; very important. (2.) Mutual explanations; very numerous. (3.) Signs of early date; very interesting. Conclusion, the narratives appear to be thoroughly trustworthy. We decided in the previous chapters that the Four Gospels, and also the Acts of the Apostles, were _genuine_; that is to say, they were written by the persons to whom they are commonly ascribed. And to these may be added the four great Epistles of St. Paul, and the Revelation of St. John, which, as before said, are admitted to be genuine by critics of all schools. We have thus direct testimony as to the life of Christ, that is to say, the testimony of contemporaries, some of whom must have known Him well. St. Matthew and St. John were two of His Apostles; St. Mark and St. Luke had exceptionally good means of knowing the truth, and may perhaps have had some slight knowledge of Christ themselves, as had also St. Paul.[268] We have now to examine the value of this testimony, more especially as to the _Resurrection of Christ_. So in the present chapter we will consider the _importance_ of the Resurrection, and the _narratives_ we have of it; both as to their _difficulties_, and their _truthfulness_; and in the next the various alternative theories. [Footnote 268: 2 Cor. 5. 16.] (_A._) ITS IMPORTANCE. In the first place, we cannot overestimate the importance of the Resurrection, for this fact, either real or supposed, was the foundation of Christianity. This is plain not only from the Gospels, but still more from the Acts, where we have numerous short speeches by the Apostles, given under various circumstances, and to various audiences, including Jewish Councillors, Greek philosophers, and Roman governors. And in nearly all of them the Resurrection of Christ is not only positively asserted, but is emphasised as a fact established by indisputable evidence and as being the foundation of Christianity.[269] It is even said that it was the special duty of an apostle to bear witness to it; and St. Paul seems to have been aware of this, since, when claiming to be an apostle, he is careful to show that he was thus qualified. And for himself he makes it the basis of all his teaching, _if Christ hath not been raised, then is our preaching vain_.[270] It is certain, then, that the first preachers of Christianity preached the Resurrection of Christ. [Footnote 269: Acts 2. 24; 4. 10; 5. 30; 10. 40; 13. 30; 17. 31; 26. 23.] [Footnote 270: Acts 1. 22; 1 Cor. 9. 1; 15. 14-17.] It is equally certain that they preached that it occurred on the _third day_, counting from the Crucifixion.[271] This also is stated not only in the Gospels, but by St. Paul; who in one place bases his whole argument on the fact that the Body of Christ (unlike that of David) _saw no corruption_, a point also alluded to by St. Peter, and implying a Resurrection in a few days.[272] While if further evidence is required, the fact that this third day (the first day of the week) became _the Lord's Day_--the Christian Sunday--seems to put the matter beyond dispute. [Footnote 271: Sometimes described as _after three days_, but that the two expressions are intended to mean the same is clear from Matt. 27. 63-64, where Christ's saying that He would rise again _after three days_ is given as the reason for guarding the sepulchre _until the third day_. In the same way _after eight days_ evidently means _on the eighth day_ (John 20. 26).] [Footnote 272: 1 Cor. 15. 4; Acts 13. 35-37; 2. 31.] Once more it is certain that the Christians believed that this Resurrection was one of Christ's _Body_, not His _Spirit_. This again is clear not only from the Gospels, which all speak of the _empty tomb_; but also from St. Paul's Epistles. For when he says that Christ _died_, and was _buried_, and was _raised on the third day_, and _appeared_ to Cephas, etc., he must mean Christ's _Body_ (for a Spirit cannot be _buried_); and he must mean that it was the _same_ Body that died and was buried, that was afterwards raised, and appeared to them, including himself.[273] Christ's being _raised_, it will be noticed, was distinct from, and previous to, His _appearing_ to anyone, just as in the Gospels the empty tomb is always mentioned _before_ any of the appearances. [Footnote 273: 1 Cor. 15. 3-5.] And even in the one case, where St. Paul alludes to what he saw as a _heavenly vision_, he refers to it in order to prove that it is not incredible that God should _raise the dead_;[274] which again shows that he thought it was a _Body_, for a _Spirit_ cannot be raised from the _dead_. And his specifying _the third day_ makes this (if possible) still plainer, for the life of the spirit after death does not commence on the third day; nor would it have prevented Christ's Body from seeing corruption. [Footnote 274: Acts 26. 19, 8.] From all this it is abundantly clear that St. Paul, like the Four Evangelists, and the other Apostles, believed in what is called the _physical_ Resurrection, in the sense that Christ's Body was restored to life, and left the tomb. Though like them, he also believed that it was no longer a _natural_ body, bound by the ordinary laws of nature, but that it had been partly changed as well, so that it shared to some extent the properties of spirits. Nor is his statement that _flesh and blood_ cannot inherit the Kingdom of God, opposed to this.[275] For when he uses the same expression elsewhere (_e.g._, _I conferred not with flesh and blood_)[276] it is evidently not used in a literal sense. It does _not_ mean flesh and blood, in the same way in which we might speak of bones and muscles. It means _men_. So his meaning here is probably that mere men--human beings as such--cannot inherit the future life of glory. Their bodies will first have to be changed, and made incorruptible; but they will still be _bodies_. And as just said, St. Paul is quite definite as to its being the Body of Christ that was _buried_, that was afterwards raised on the third day. [Footnote 275: Cor. 15. 50.] [Footnote 276: Gal. 1. 16; Eph. 6. 12; comp. Matt. 16. 17.] We may say, then, with confidence, that wherever the Resurrection was believed, the fact that it occurred on the third day, and the fact that it was a physical Resurrection, involving the empty tomb, was believed also. The three invariably went together. But was this belief justified? This is the question we have to discuss. (_B._) THE NARRATIVES. Now we have five different accounts of the Resurrection; and these are so thoroughly independent that not one of them can be regarded as the source of any of the others. Little stress, however, can be laid on the latter part of St. Mark's account, as the genuineness of the last twelve verses is doubtful; but it anyhow represents a very early Christian belief, Aristion being sometimes named as the author. And even the earlier part is conclusive as to the empty tomb, and the promised appearance in Galilee. On the other hand, St. Paul's account, which is perhaps the strongest, is universally allowed to have been written within thirty years of the event; the most probable date for which is A.D. 29 or 30, and for the Epistle A.D. 55. And it should be noticed that St. Paul reminds the Corinthians that what he here says about the Resurrection is what he preached to them on his first visit (about A.D. 50), and that as they had _received_ it from him, so he had himself _received_ it from others at a still earlier date.[277] [Footnote 277: 1 Cor. 15. 1-3.] And we can even fix this date approximately, for two of the appearances he records were to St. Peter and St. James; and he happens to mention elsewhere[278] that these were the two Apostles he met at Jerusalem, three years after his conversion (A.D. 35, or earlier); so he doubtless heard the whole account then, even if he had not heard it before. And this was certainly within _ten years_--probably within _seven_ years--of the Crucifixion. More ancient testimony than this can scarcely be desired. And if anything could add to its importance it would be St. Paul's own statement that in this respect his teaching was the same as that of the original Apostles: _Whether then it be I or they, so we preach and so ye believed_.[279] [Footnote 278: Gal. 1. 19.] [Footnote 279: 1 Cor. 15. 11.] We need not quote the various accounts here, but the accompanying table gives them in a convenient form for reference. Altogether Christ seems to have been seen on thirteen different occasions; and there may have been others, which are not recorded, though they are perhaps hinted at.[280] [Footnote 280: Acts 1. 3; 13. 31; John 20. 30.] It is doubtful however if the eighth appearance was separate from the ninth, for St. Matthew says that when the Eleven saw Him, on the mountain in Galilee, as He had appointed, _they_ worshipped Him, but _some_ doubted. This _some_ can scarcely mean some of the Eleven, who had just worshipped. It probably refers to some others who were present (_i.e._, some of the five hundred) who doubted at first if it was really He, as He was some way off, and it was before He _came_ to them. And since the command to preach the Gospel to all the world, which St. Matthew records, was probably addressed to the Eleven only, it will account for his not mentioning that others were present. In the same way St. Luke relates the Ascension, as if only the Eleven were there, though it is clear _from his own narrative_ that he knew there were others with them; since he afterwards records St. Peter as saying so.[281] [Footnote 281: Acts 1. 1-13; 22-23.] On the other hand, the appearance to the five hundred must have been on a _mountain_, or some other open space, as a room would not have been large enough. It must have been in _Galilee_, as there were not so many disciples in Jerusalem.[282] It must have been _by appointment_, as they could hardly have come together by accident; and they are not likely to have come together at all unless the _Eleven_ had collected them. And all this is an additional reason for identifying it with that recorded by St. Matthew. [Footnote 282: Acts 1. 15.] It must next be noticed that the appearances form _three groups_. First a group in or near Jerusalem, which was chiefly to the Twelve Apostles, and extended over eight days. Secondly a group in Galilee, the most important being that to the five hundred, which was a sort of _farewell_ to His Galilean disciples. And thirdly to a group back again at Jerusalem, chiefly to the Twelve, but including others, and ending with the Ascension, or _farewell_ to His Judæan disciples. TABLE OF CHRIST'S APPEARANCES. +-----------------------+--------+-------+--------+---------+---------+ | |_1 Cor._|_Matt._| _Mark._| _Luke._ | _John._ | +-----------------------+--------+-------+--------+---------+---------+ | | | | | | | |Empty tomb visited }| | | {|24. 1-11,|} | | by women }| .. |28. 1-8|16. 1-8{| 22-23 |}20. 1-2 | | | | | | | | | And by Apostles | .. | .. | .. | 12, 24 | 3-10| | | | | | | | |An appearance in }| | | | | | | Galilee foretold }| .. | 7| 16. 7 | .. | .. | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | |Then Christ was seen | | | | | | | _In or near | | | | | | | Jerusalem, by_ | | | | | | | | | | | | | | (i.) Mary Magdalene | .. | .. | 9-11 | .. | 11-18| | | | | | | | | (ii.) The two Marys | .. | 9-10| .. | .. | .. | | | | | | | | | (iii.) St. Peter | 15. 5 | .. | .. | 34 | .. | | | | | | | | | ( iv.) Cleopas and }| | | | | | | another, }| | | | | | | perhaps St. }| | | | | | | Luke, at }| | | | | | | Emmaus }| .. | .. | 12-13 | 13-35 | .. | | | | | | | | | (v.) The Apostles }| | | | | | | and others }| | | | | | | (without }| | | | | | | St. Thomas) }| 5 | .. | 14 | 36-43 | 19-25| | | | | | | | | (vi.) The Apostles }| | | | | | | (with St. }| | | | | | | Thomas) }| .. | .. | .. | .. | 26-29| | | | | | | | | | | | | | | |_In Galilee, by_ | | | | | | | | | | | | | | (vii.) Seven Apostles}| | | | | | | on the Lake }| .. | .. | .. | .. | 21. 1-23| | | | | | | | |(viii.) The Apostles }| | | | | | | on the }| | | | | | | mountain }| .. | 16-20| 15-18 | .. | .. | | | | | | | | | (ix.) Over 500 }| | | | | | | persons }| 6 | .. | .. | .. | .. | | | | | | | | | (x.) St. James | 7 | .. | .. | .. | .. | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | |_Back at Jerusalem, by_| | | | | | | | | | | | _Acts._ | | (xi.) The Apostles }| | | | | | | at Jerusalem}| .. | .. | .. | 44-49 | 1. 4-5| | | | | | | | | (xii.) The Apostles }| | | | | | | and others }| | | | | | | at Bethany }| 7 | .. | 19-20 | 50-53 | 6-11, 22| | | | | | | | |(xiii.) St. Paul | 8 | .. | .. | .. | 9. 3-9| | | | | | | | +-----------------------+--------+-------+--------+---------+---------+ And though this _double_ farewell is sometimes thought to be a difficulty, yet as Christ's Resurrection was meant to be the proof of His mission, it seems only natural that He should have appeared again to _all_ His disciples, and have taken leave of them; both those in Galilee, and those at Jerusalem, the Apostles themselves being of course present on each occasion. And as the words _when they were come together_ imply that the meeting in Jerusalem, like that in Galilee, had been previously announced, all the Judæan disciples may well have been there; and this we know was the case with Matthias, Justus, and others.[283] [Footnote 283: Acts 1. 6, 22.] (_C._) THEIR DIFFICULTIES. Passing on now to the difficulties in the narratives; they may be conveniently placed under the two heads of _discrepancies_ and _omissions_. (1.) _Discrepancies._ These seem to be chiefly due to two of the Evangelists, St. Mark and St. Luke, recording separate appearances as if they were continuous. But it so happens that they do much the same in the rest of their Gospels, often recording separate sayings of Christ as if they were one discourse; and even in closely-connected passages a break has sometimes to be assumed.[284] While in these very narratives, St. Luke describes an appearance at Jerusalem in Acts 1. 4, and continues without any change of place till v. 12, when he says _they returned to Jerusalem_. Plainly he is here grouping together words spoken on different occasions. [Footnote 284: _E.g._, in Luke 14. 21-22.] Therefore he may have done the same at the end of his Gospel. Indeed, it is almost certain that he did, otherwise we should have to place the Ascension in the middle of the night, which is scarcely probable. Moreover, in the Acts he expressly says that the appearances lasted _forty days_; and he quotes St. Paul, as saying that they lasted _many days_.[285] He seems to have thought it unnecessary in his Gospel to explain that they were at different times; and if St. Mark did the same, it would account for most, though not all, of the discrepancies between them. [Footnote 285: Acts 1. 3; 13. 31.] These discrepancies, however, are often much exaggerated. Take for instance the fifth appearance in the previous list. St. Luke and St. John evidently refer to the same occasion, as it was on the evening of Easter Day; yet one says the Apostles were _terrified_, and thought they saw a spirit; while the other says they were _glad_. Can both be true? Certainly they can, if we assume (as is most natural) that the Apostles were _at first_ terrified, and thought they saw a spirit; but were afterwards glad, when on Christ's showing them His hands and side, they were convinced that it was really Himself. And He may then have reproached them for their unbelief as recorded by St. Mark. Or take the case of the Angels at the Tomb. These are referred to by every Evangelist, though some call them men (in white or dazzling apparel) and others angels. But as St. Luke uses both words,[286] and as angels are not likely to have appeared in any but a human form, there is no real difficulty here. While if the second angel was not always visible, it would account for some of the Evangelists speaking of only one. And it may be mentioned in passing, that one of the angels is said to have been seen by the Roman soldiers as well, who went and told the Jews about it.[287] And this is not likely to have been asserted within twenty years unless it had been the case, as the Jews would have contradicted it. Yet if it was the case, it affords an additional argument for the Resurrection, and one derived from Christ's enemies, not His friends. [Footnote 286: Luke 24. 4, 23. Similarly Gabriel is called a _man_ in Dan. 9. 21, and an _angel_ in Luke 1. 25.] [Footnote 287: Matt. 28. 4, 11.] A more important difficulty is caused by Christ's command to the women, that they and the Apostles were to proceed to Galilee to meet Him, when, as He knew, He was going to appear to them in Jerusalem the same day. The most probable explanation is that the meeting in Galilee was the one _intended_ all along, in fact we are definitely told so.[288] But when the women, in consequence of the Angel's message, and after they had recovered from their fright (which at first made them run away and say nothing to anyone),[289] went and told the Apostles to go there, they were _disbelieved_.[290] This naturally made the women doubt too, so they returned to the grave to make further inquiries, none of them having the slightest intention of going to Galilee. [Footnote 288: Mark 14. 28.] [Footnote 289: Mark 16. 8.] [Footnote 290: Luke 24. 11.] Under these circumstances, something more was necessary, so Christ appeared first to Mary Magdalene, and then to her with the other Mary, when He told them Himself to warn the Apostles to proceed to Galilee, which they again did, and were again _disbelieved_.[291] Then He appeared to the two disciples on the way to Emmaus, and when they came back, and told the rest, they were also at first _disbelieved_; the Apostles, though now admitting that Christ had been seen by St. Peter, still denying such a bodily resurrection (able to eat food, etc.) as they described.[292] [Footnote 291: Mark 16. 11.] [Footnote 292: Mark 16. 13; Luke 24. 34.] After this there was nothing for it, but for Christ to appear to the Apostles Himself, and convince them personally by eating food in their presence, which He did, when most of them were assembled together the same evening. And He may then have told them to remain in Jerusalem till they were _all_ convinced, as they could scarcely have been expected to collect the five hundred for the meeting in Galilee, so long as they kept disputing among themselves as to whether He had really risen. And it was thus another week before the last sceptic (St. Thomas) was convinced, and they finally started for Galilee. These discrepancies then are not nearly so serious as is commonly supposed. (2.) _Omissions._ With regard to the _omissions_, none of our lists are at all complete, and this is often thought to be a difficulty. But as far as the _Gospels_ are concerned, the writers nowhere profess to give a complete list of Christ's appearances, any more than of His parables, or His miracles; they only record (as one of them tells us)[293] _selected instances_. And in the present case their choice is quite intelligible. Thus St. Matthew closes his Gospel, which is concerned chiefly with the Galilean ministry, with the farewell meeting in Galilee; St. John, whose Gospel is concerned chiefly with the Judæan ministry, ended his (before the last chapter was added, which seems a sort of appendix) with some of the appearances in Jerusalem. While St. Luke, who was more of an historian, and wrote everything _in order_,[294] though he describes most in detail the appearance to the two disciples at Emmaus (which is only natural if he was one of them), is yet careful to carry his narrative right on to the Ascension. Therefore, though they only record certain appearances, they may well have known of the others; and there can be little doubt that they did. [Footnote 293: John 20. 30.] [Footnote 294: Luke 1. 3.] Thus, St. Matthew speaks of the Eleven meeting Christ by _appointment_, so he must have known of some interview when this appointment was made, (perhaps the one on the Lake), as the messages to the women did not fix either the time or place.[295] In the same way St. Mark must have known of a meeting in Galilee, as he refers to it himself, and St. Luke of an appearance to St. Peter.[296] While St. John, though he does not record the Ascension, must certainly have known of it, as he refers to it twice in the words, _if ye should behold the Son of Man ascending_, and _I ascend unto My Father_, the former passage clearly showing that it was to be a visible ascent, and that the Apostles were to see it.[297] Plainly, then, the Evangelists did not relate every appearance they knew of, and the objection as far as they are concerned, may be dismissed at once. [Footnote 295: Matt. 28. 16, 7, 10.] [Footnote 296: Mark 16. 7; Luke 24. 34.] [Footnote 297: John 6. 62; 20. 17.] On the other hand, _St. Paul's list_ certainly looks as if it were meant to be complete; and this is no doubt a real difficulty. Surely, it is said, if the other appearances had occurred, or were even supposed to have occurred, when St. Paul wrote, he would have heard of them; and if he had heard of them, he would have mentioned them, as he was evidently trying to make out as strong a case as he could. He might perhaps have omitted the appearances to _women_, as their testimony was not considered of much value at the time; and they were not witnesses of the Resurrection, in the sense he alludes to--_i.e._, persons who went about preaching it;[298] but why should he have omitted the rest? [Footnote 298: 1 Cor. 15. 11.] There is however a fairly good explanation. The appearances it will be remembered form _three groups_. Now St. Paul mentions two appearances to individual Apostles--St. Peter and St. James; and this was doubtless because he had had such vivid accounts of them from the men themselves, when he met them at Jerusalem. For we may be sure that if they had not told him, he would not have accepted it from anyone else. But he seems to refer to the others _in these groups_, first to the Twelve (at Jerusalem), then to the five hundred (in Galilee), and then to all the Apostles, evidently meaning more than the Twelve (back again at Jerusalem). But by so doing, he does not limit it to only one appearance in each group. In the same way a man might say that on returning to England he saw first his parents, then his brothers, then his cousins; though he had seen his parents on two days a week apart, his brothers for only a few hours, and his cousins for several successive days. And the fact that St. Paul, in one of his speeches in the Acts,[299] expressly says that Christ was seen for _many days_ at Jerusalem, strongly confirms this view. We conclude, then, that in his Epistle he is mentioning the appearances by groups, rather than every single one; wishing to emphasise the number of men who had seen Christ, rather than the number of times they had seen Him; and if so it does away with the difficulty. None of these objections, then, are of much importance. [Footnote 299: Acts 13. 31.] (_D._) THEIR TRUTHFULNESS. Turning now to the other side, the narratives bear abundant marks of truthfulness. These we will consider under the three heads of _agreements_, _mutual explanations_, and _signs of early date_. (1.) _Agreements._ In the first place it is important to notice that in spite of the discrepancies and omissions just alluded to, there is an extraordinary amount of _agreement_ in the narratives. For all the more important points--the third day, the empty tomb, the visit of the women, the angelic message, the first appearance being in Jerusalem, the incredulity of some of the disciples, and Christ's not only appearing, but speaking as well, and this in the presence of all the Apostles--are _all_ vouched for by _every_ Evangelist. They also agree in saying that the Apostles _remained in Jerusalem_ after Christ's arrest, and did not as we might have expected return at once to Galilee? For the last two Gospels expressly state that they were in Jerusalem on Easter Day; and the first two imply it, or how could the women have been told to take them a message to _go_ to Galilee? Further they all agree in _not_ giving (what imaginary accounts might well have contained) any description of the Resurrection itself, any appearance of Christ to His enemies; or any information as to the other world, though this last would have been so eagerly welcomed, and could have been so easily invented. Moreover the _order_ in which the appearances are placed is also the same in every account, that to Mary Magdalene for instance (wherever it occurs) being, always placed first, that to St. Peter next, that to Cleopas next, then that to the Twelve, etc. And this is the more remarkable because the narratives are so obviously independent, and the order is not at all a likely one. Writers of fiction, for instance, would never have made Christ first appear to so little known a person as Mary Magdalene, rather than to His Mother or His Apostles. Once more the narratives all agree in the extreme _calmness_ with which they are written. One would have thought it almost impossible for anyone after relating the story of the Cross, to have avoided some word of triumph, or exultation, in regard to the Resurrection and Ascension. But nothing of the kind is found. The writers record them, like the rest of the history, as simple matters of fact, apparently regarding them as the natural close for such a Life, and calling for no comment. How unlikely this would be in legendary accounts scarcely needs pointing out. It may also be added (though it does not concern these actual narratives) that the Evangelists all agree in saying that Christ had _prophesied_ His own Resurrection.[300] And while this does not of course prove it to have been true, it yet forms a difficulty on any other theory. [Footnote 300: _E.g._, Matt. 16. 21; Mark 9. 31; Luke 18. 33; John 2. 19-21.] (2.) _Mutual explanations._ In the next place it is surprising to find how often a slight remark in one of the narratives will help to explain some apparent improbability, or difficulty in another. And since, as just said, the narratives are quite independent, and were certainly not written to explain one another; such indications of truthfulness are of great value. We will therefore consider several examples.[301] [Footnote 301: These and some others are discussed in a paper in the _Expositor_, May, 1909, by the present writer.] To begin with, St. John records Mary Magdalene as visiting the empty Tomb, and then telling the disciples _we know not where they have laid Him_. But to whom does the _we_ refer, as she was apparently alone all the time? St. John does not explain matters; but the other Evangelists do. For they say that though Mary Magdalene was the leader of the party, and is always named first, yet as a matter of fact there were other women with her; and this accounts for the _we_. Later on no doubt she was alone; but then she uses the words _I know not_.[302] [Footnote 302: John 20. 2, 13.] Secondly, St. Luke says that _Peter_ was the disciple who ran to the tomb on hearing of the Angel's message, without however giving any reason why he should have been the one to go. But St. Mark, though he does not mention the visit of Peter, records that the message had been specially addressed to him; and St. John says that Mary Magdalene had specially informed him; and this of course explains his going. St. Luke, it may be added, in the subsequent words, _certain of them that were with us_,[303] implies that at least one other disciple went with him, which agrees with St. John. [Footnote 303: Luke 24. 24.] St. Luke then says that when Peter arrived at the tomb, he saw the linen cloths _by themselves_, and went home _wondering_. This seems only a trifle, but what does it mean? St. Luke does not explain matters, but St. John does; for he describes how the cloths were arranged. This was in a way which showed that the Body could not have been hurriedly stolen, but had apparently vanished without disturbing them. It convinced St. John that the disappearance was supernatural, and would quite account for St. Peter's wondering.[304] [Footnote 304: Luke 24. 12; John 20. 6-8.] Again, St. Matthew narrates that when Christ appeared to Mary Magdalene, and the other Mary, He was at once recognised, held by the feet, and worshipped. And they do not seem to have been at all surprised at meeting Him near the tomb, in spite of the Angel's message that they should go to Galilee to see Him. Evidently something must have occurred between, making a break in the narrative after v. 8, which is quite possible, for the words, _And behold_ (Rev. Vers.) do not always imply a close connection.[305] And from the other Evangelists we learn what this was. For St. John describes an appearance to Mary Magdalene _alone_, when she was rebuked for wishing to touch Him, apparently in the old familiar way, and without any act of reverence; and St. Mark says this was the _first_ appearance. If then a few minutes later, she, in company with the other Mary, saw Christ again, it would quite account for their not being surprised at meeting Him, and also for their altered behaviour in prostrating themselves to the ground, and being in consequence permitted to hold Him by the _feet_, and worship Him. [Footnote 305: _E.g._, Matt. 2. 1.] Once more St. Luke says that when Christ appeared to the Apostles in the evening, He was mistaken for a _spirit_; but he gives no reason for this, and it was apparently the only occasion on which it occurred. St. John however, though he does not mention the incident, fully explains it; for he says that _the doors were shut_ for fear of the Jews; and obviously if Christ suddenly appeared within closed doors, it would account for their thinking that He must be a spirit. On the other hand, St. John speaks of Christ's showing them His hands (and also His side) though without giving any reason for this. But St. Luke's statement that they at first took Him for a spirit, and that He did this to convince them of His identity, quite accounts for it; so each of the narratives helps to explain the other. But this is not all, for St. Luke then adds that as they still disbelieved, Christ asked if they had anything to eat (_i.e._, if they would give _Him_ something to eat) and they at once offered Him a piece of broiled fish. But he gives no hint as to why they happened to have any fish ready. St. Mark however, though he does not mention either the request, nor its response, fully explains both; for he says they were _sitting at meat_ at the time, probably just concluding their evening meal. And all this still further explains St. John's narrative, that Christ said to them _again_, the second time, _Peace be unto you_; which would be much more natural if something had occurred between, than if (as St. John implies) it was just after the first time. Again, St. Mark records Christ as saying, after His command to preach the Gospel to all the world, 'He that believeth _and is baptised_ shall be saved,' though without any previous reference to baptism. But St. Matthew says the command was not only to make disciples of all nations, but to _baptise_ them as well, and this of course explains the other passage, though curiously enough St. Matthew himself does not refer to it. And then as to the appearance to the five hundred recorded by St. Paul. None of the Evangelists mention this, but it explains a good deal that they do mention. Thus St. John alludes to the Apostles being in _Galilee_, (instead of staying in Jerusalem) after the Resurrection, but he gives no hint as to why they went there. Nor do St. Matthew and St. Mark, who say Christ told them to go there, give any hint as to why He told them; but this appearance to the five hundred, who had to be collected in Galilee, explains everything. It also accounts for St. Matthew's curious remark (before noticed) that when the Eleven saw Christ in Galilee, _they worshipped Him, but some doubted_. And it probably explains St. Luke's omission of Galilee among the places where the Apostles themselves had to preach the Resurrection; as there were so many witnesses there already.[306] [Footnote 306: Acts 1. 8.] Now of course too much stress must not be laid on small details like these, but still the fact that such short and independent accounts should explain one another in so many ways is a distinct evidence of truthfulness. Legendary accounts of fictitious events would not be likely to do so. (3.) _Signs of early date._ In conclusion, it is interesting to note that these accounts, especially those in the first three Gospels, show signs of an extremely early, if not a _contemporary_ date. Thus St. Peter is still called by his old name of _Simon_,[307] and it is the last occasion when that name is used, without explaining to whom it refers; St. Paul, some years later, though alluding to this same appearance, calling him by what was then his usual name of Cephas or Peter. Whilst St. John, writing many years afterwards, though he is equally accurate as to Simon being the name in use at the time, thinks it necessary to explain who was meant by it ('Jesus saith to Simon _Peter_, Simon son of John, lovest thou Me?').[308] [Footnote 307: Luke 24. 34.] [Footnote 308: John 21. 15; comp. Acts. 15. 7, 14.] Similarly the Apostles are still spoken of as _the Eleven_, though they could only have had this title for _just these few weeks_.[309] And the fact of their having had it seems to have been soon forgotten. For St. Paul even when alluding to this very time prefers to call them by the familiar title of _the Twelve_, which was equally correct, as we are specially told that St. Matthias, who was afterwards chosen as the twelfth, had been with them all along.[310] [Footnote 309: Mark 16. 14; Luke 24. 9, 33.] [Footnote 310: Acts 1. 22; 1 Cor. 15. 5.] There are also some incidental remarks in the narratives, which seem so natural, and yet so unlikely to have been invented. Thus we read that on one occasion after Christ appeared to the Apostles, they still disbelieved _for joy_; and on another, that though they knew it was the Lord, they yet wanted to ask Him _Who art Thou?_[311] Such bewildered feelings are quite intelligible at the time, but are not likely to have been thought of afterwards. [Footnote 311: Luke 24. 41; John 21. 12.] Moreover the _kind_ of Resurrection asserted (though no doubt presenting great difficulties) is strongly in favour of a contemporary date. For it was not (as said in Chapter XIII.) a mere resuscitation of Christ's natural body, but His rising again in a body which combined material and spiritual properties in a remarkable manner. And there was nothing in the Old Testament, or anywhere else, to suggest such a Resurrection as this; it was quite unique. Indeed the _combination_ of these properties--and they occur in the same Gospel--is so extremely puzzling, that it is hard to see how anything but actual experience (or what they believed to be such) could ever have induced men to record it. And much the same may be said of their ascribing an _altered appearance_ to Christ's Body, so that He was often not recognised at first. Late writers are not likely to have imagined this. Lastly, the utter absence of any attempt at harmonising the narratives, or avoiding the apparent discrepancies between them, also points to their extreme antiquity. The writers in fact seem to narrate just what they believed to have happened, often mentioning the most trivial circumstances, and without ever attempting to meet difficulties or objections. And while such disconnected accounts might well have been written by the actual witnesses of a wonderful miracle, they are not such as would have been deliberately invented; nor are they like subsequent legends and myths. These narratives then appear throughout to be thoroughly trustworthy; and we therefore decide that the _Resurrection of Christ is probably true_. In the next chapter we will consider the various alternative theories. CHAPTER XVIII THAT THE FAILURE OF OTHER EXPLANATIONS INCREASES THIS PROBABILITY. The first witnesses of the Resurrection. The value of all testimony depends on four questions about the witnesses, and here the denial of each corresponds to the four chief alternative theories. (_A._) THE FALSEHOOD THEORY. This would be to deny their _veracity_, and say that they did not speak the truth, as far as they knew it. But it is disproved by their motives, their conduct, and their sufferings. (_B._) THE LEGEND THEORY. This would be to deny their _knowledge_, and say that they had not the means of knowing the truth. But amply sufficient means were within their reach, and they were quite competent to use them. (_C._) THE VISION THEORY. This would be to deny their _investigation_, and say that they were too excited to avail themselves of these means. But this theory has immense difficulties. (1.) Arguments in its favour. (2.) Arguments against it. (3.) Its failure to account for the facts. (4.) The theory of real visions. (_D._) THE SWOON THEORY. This would be to deny their _reasoning_, and say that they did not draw the right conclusion, since Christ's appearances were due to His not having died. But this theory also has immense difficulties. (_E._) CONCLUSION. The alleged difficulties of the Christian Theory, extremely strong argument in favour of the Resurrection. We decided in the last chapter that the Resurrection of Christ was _probably true_; that is to say, we carefully examined the various narratives, and came to the conclusion that they had every appearance of being candidly and truthfully written. We have now to consider, more in detail, _the testimony of its first witnesses_. And, as we shall see, this affords strong additional evidence in its favour; since all attempts to account for this testimony, without admitting its truth, fail hopelessly. By the _first witnesses_, we mean those persons who saw, or said they saw, Christ alive after His Crucifixion. This will include the twelve Apostles, and over 500 other Christians, most of whom St. Paul says were still alive when he wrote. It will also include two persons, who at the time were _not_ Christians,--St. Paul himself, an avowed enemy, and St. James who, though he was Christ's brother, does not seem to have believed in Him.[312] [Footnote 312: John 7. 5.] And before discussing the value of their testimony, it may be well to glance at some general rules in regard to all testimony. If, then, a person plainly asserts that a certain event took place, before we believe that it did take place, we must inquire first as to his _Veracity_: did he speak the truth as far as he knew it? Next as to his _Knowledge_: had he the means of knowing the truth? Next as to his _Investigation_: did he avail himself of those means? And lastly, as to his _Reasoning_: did he draw the right conclusion? And all possible ways of denying the truth of a man's statement can be brought under one or other of these heads. For if it is not true, it must be either:-- Intentionally false = want of Veracity. { had not the } { means of } or { knowing the } = want of Knowledge. { truth } { Unintentionally { false, in which { or { did not } = want of Investigation. case he either { { use them } { had the means,{ or { and either { used them } { { wrongly } = want of Reasoning. From this it is clear that for anyone to deny a man's statement, without disputing either his veracity, knowledge, investigation, or reasoning, is very like denying that one angle is greater than another, without disputing that it is neither equal to it, nor less than it. We have now to apply these general rules to the testimony in favour of the Resurrection of Christ. And, as we shall see, the denial of these four points corresponds to the four chief alternative theories, which, may be called the _Falsehood_, the _Legend_, the _Vision_, and the _Swoon_ Theory. (_A._) THE FALSEHOOD THEORY. We will begin with the Falsehood Theory. This would be to deny the _veracity_ of the witnesses, and say that though they asserted that Christ rose from the dead, and appeared to them, they did not really believe it. In other words they were deliberate impostors, who, knowing that their Master did not rise from the dead, yet spent their whole lives in trying to persuade people that He did. And, as we shall see, their _motives_, their _conduct_, and their _sufferings_, are all strongly opposed to such a theory. And first as to their _motives_, had they any interest in asserting that Christ rose from the dead unless they really believed it? Clearly they had _not_, for they were so few or so faint-hearted that they could not prevent their Master being crucified. What chance was there then of persuading the world that He had risen from the dead, and why should they have embarked on such a hopeless scheme? Nothing indeed but the most firm conviction of their Lord's Resurrection, and therefore of supernatural assistance, would ever have induced men to have ventured on it. If they believed the Resurrection to be true, then, and only then, would they have had any motive whatever for preaching it. Next as to their _conduct_, did this show that they really believed what they preached? And here also the evidence is overwhelming. When their Master was crucified His followers were naturally filled with gloom and despair; but in a few days this was changed to intense joy and confidence. They preached the Resurrection in the very place where He was crucified, and boldly went forth to convert the world in His name. It is clear that before such a marvellous change could take place they must at least have thought they had, what St. Luke asserts they actually did have, _many proofs_ of the Resurrection.[313] To them, at all events, the evidence must haveseemed conclusive, or Christianity would have perished on Calvary. [Footnote 313: Acts 1. 3.] Lastly as to their _sufferings_. This is the most important point, since voluntary suffering in any form, but especially in its extreme form of martyrdom, seems conclusive as to a man's veracity. Persons do not suffer for what they believe to be false; they must have believed it to be true, though this does not of course prove that it actually was true. And here is the answer to the common objection, that since all religions have had their martyrs, this kind of evidence proves nothing. On the contrary, it does prove something, though it does not prove everything. It does not prove that what the man died for was true, but it does prove that he believed it to be true. It is therefore a conclusive test as to his _veracity_. What evidence have we, then, that the first witnesses suffered for the truth of what they preached? And once more the evidence is complete and overwhelming, both from the Acts and St. Paul's Epistles. We need only refer to these latter, as their genuineness is undisputed. St. Paul then, in one place, gives a list of the actual sufferings he had undergone; he alludes to them in numerous other places, and often as if they were the common experience of all Christians at the time; and in one passage he expressly includes the other Apostles with himself in the long list of sufferings he describes. While he elsewhere declares that at a still earlier time, before his conversion, he himself persecuted the Christians _beyond measure_.[314] [Footnote 314: 2 Cor. 11. 24-27; Rom. 8. 35; 1 Cor. 4. 9-13; Gal. 1. 13.] There can thus be no doubt as to the continual sufferings of the first witnesses, and, as just said, it is a decisive proof of their veracity. We conclude therefore that when they asserted that Christ rose from the dead, they were asserting what they honestly believed whether rightly or wrongly, to be true. And as this belief was due, simply to the witnesses believing that they saw Christ alive after His death; we must further conclude that they honestly believed in the appearances of Christ as recorded by themselves, and their friends, in the New Testament. In other words, these accounts are not _intentionally_ false. So much for the _veracity_ of the witnesses. It is not, as a rule, denied by modern opponents of the Resurrection; but in early times, when men ought to have known best, it was evidently thought to be the only alternative. St. Paul declares emphatically that unless Christ had risen, he and the other Apostles were _false witnesses_, in plain words _liars_.[315] That was the only choice. They were either saying what they knew to be true, or what they knew to be false. And the idea of there being some _mistake_ about it, due to visions, or swoons, or anything else, never seems to have occurred to anyone. [Footnote 315: 1 Cor. 15. 15.] (_B._) THE LEGEND THEORY. We pass on now to the Legend Theory. This would be to deny the _knowledge_ of the witnesses: and say that our Gospels are not genuine, but merely record subsequent legends; so we cannot tell whether the first witnesses had, or had not, the means of knowing the truth. But if we admit the genuineness of our Gospels, and the veracity of their writers (both of which have been admitted), the Legend Theory is out of the question. They asserted, it will be remembered, that Christ's _Body_, not His Spirit, appeared to them, after the crucifixion; and from their own accounts it is clear that they had ample means of finding out if this was true. Whether they used these means, and actually did find out, is, of course, another question; but as to sufficient means being available, and their being quite competent to use them if they liked, there can be no doubt whatever. As has been well said, it was not one person who saw Him, but many; they saw Him not only separately, but together; not only for a moment, but for a long time; not only by night, but by day; not only at a distance, but near; not only once, but several times. And they not only saw Him, but they touched Him, walked with Him, conversed with Him, ate with Him, and examined His Body to satisfy their doubts. In fact, according to their own accounts, Christ seems to have convinced them in every way in which conviction was possible that He had really risen from the dead. And even apart from our Gospels, the Legend Theory is still untenable. For St. Paul mentions several of the appearances, and as this was within a few years of the events, there was no time for the growth of legends. Moreover he heard of them direct from those who saw them, St. Peter, St. James, etc., so he must have known the circumstances under which they occurred, and, being an educated man, is not likely to have been taken in by any imposture. While his saying that some of the five hundred had died, though most of them were still alive when he wrote, implies that he had also made some enquiries about that appearance. His testimony is thus very valuable from every point of view, and absolutely fatal to the Legend Theory. (_C._) THE VISION THEORY. We now come to the Vision Theory. This would be to deny the _investigation_ of the witnesses; and say that they were so excited, or so enthusiastic, or perhaps so stupid, that they did not avail themselves of the ample means they had of finding out the truth. In other words they so expected their Lord to appear to them after His death, and kept so dwelling on the thought of Him, as though unseen, yet perhaps very near to them, that after a time they fancied they actually saw Him, and that He had risen from the dead. The wish was, in fact, father to the thought; so that when a supposed appearance took place, they were so filled with joy at their Master's presence, that they neglected to ascertain whether the appearance they saw was real, or only due to their own fancy. Such is the theory; though it is often modified in regard to particular appearances, by ascribing them to dreams, or to someone being mistaken for Christ. And as it is at present the favourite one with those who reject the Resurrection, we must examine it carefully; first considering the arguments in its favour, then those against it, then its failure to account for the facts recorded, and lastly what is known as the theory of real visions. (1.) _Arguments in its favour._ Now we must at once admit that it is possible for an honest man to mistake a phantom of his own brain, arising from some diseased state of the mind or body, for a reality in the outer world. Such _subjective_ visions, as they are called, are by no means unheard of, though they are not common. And of course the great, if not the only argument in its favour is that it professes to account for the alleged Resurrection, without on the one hand admitting its truth, or on the other that the witnesses were deliberate impostors. Here, it is urged, is a way of avoiding both difficulties, by allowing that the witnesses honestly believed all they said, only they were _mistaken_ in supposing the appearances to be real, when they were merely due to their own imagination. And undoubtedly the fact that men have often thought they saw ghosts, visions, etc., when there was really nothing to see, gives it some support. (2.) _Arguments against it._ Let us now consider how this Vision Theory would suit the accounts of the Resurrection written by the witnesses themselves, and their friends. As will be seen, we might almost imagine that they had been written on purpose to contradict it. To begin with, the writers were not unacquainted with visions, and occasionally record them as happening to themselves or others. But then they always use suitable expressions, such as falling into a trance.[316] No such language is used in the Gospels to describe the appearances of Christ, which are always recorded as if they were actual matters of fact. While as to St. Paul, he never confuses the revelations and visions, which he sometimes had, with the one great appearance of Christ to him near Damascus, which qualified him to be an Apostle.[317] [Footnote 316: _E.g._, Acts 10. 10; 9. 10; 16. 9.] [Footnote 317: 1 Cor. 9. 1; 15. 8; Gal. 1. 16-17.] Secondly, the appearances did not take place (as visions might have been expected to do, and generally did)[318] when the disciples were engaged in prayer, or in worship. But it was during their ordinary everyday occupations; when for instance they were going for a walk, or sitting at supper, or out fishing. And they were often simple, plain, and almost trivial in their character, very different from what enthusiasts would have imagined. [Footnote 318: _E.g._, Acts 10. 30; 11. 5; 22. 17.] Thirdly, subjective visions due to enthusiasm, would not have started so soon after the Crucifixion as the _third_ day. It would have required a much longer time for the disciples to have got over their utter confusion, and to have realised (perhaps by studying the old prophecies) that this humiliation was, after all, part of God's scheme, and was to be followed by a Resurrection. Nor again would such visions have only lasted for a short time; yet with the single exception of that to St. Paul, they were all over in a few weeks, though the enthusiasm of the witnesses lasted through life. Fourthly, it is plain from all the accounts that the Apostles did not _expect_ the Resurrection, and were much surprised at it, though they afterwards remembered that Christ had foretold it. This is shown, not only by the Christians bringing spices, to embalm the Body, and persons do not embalm a body unless they expect it to remain in the grave; but also by the account of the appearances themselves. For with the exception of the two farewell meetings (and possibly that to the two Marys), Christ's appearance was wholly unexpected. No one was looking for it, no one was anticipating it. When for instance Mary Magdalene found the tomb empty, it never even occurred to her that He had come to life again, she merely thought the Body had been removed. Fifthly, and this is very remarkable, when Christ did appear, He was often _not recognised_. This was the case with Mary Magdalene, with Cleopas and his companion, and with the disciples at Tiberias. But it is plain that, if they so hoped to see their risen Master, that they eventually fancied they did see Him, they would at once have recognised Him; and their not doing so is quite inconsistent with the Vision Theory. Sixthly, we are repeatedly told that at first some of the disciples _disbelieved_ or _doubted_ the Resurrection.[319] This is an important point, since it shows that opinions were divided on the subject, and therefore makes it almost certain that they would have used what means they had of finding out the truth. And a visit to the grave would have shown them at once whether the Body was there, or not: and they are not likely to have preached the Resurrection, without first ascertaining the point. Moreover, some of them remained doubtful even after the others were persuaded, St. Thomas in particular requiring the most convincing proof. His state of mind was certainly not that of an enthusiast, since, instead of being so convinced of the Resurrection as to have imagined it, he could with great difficulty be got to believe it. Indeed, according to these accounts, scarcely one of the witnesses believed the Resurrection till the belief was almost forced on him. [Footnote 319: Matt. 28. 17; Mark 16. 11-14; Luke 24. 11, 37; John 20. 25.] Seventhly, subjective visions do not occur to different persons _simultaneously_. A man's private illusions (like his dreams) are his own. A number of men do not simultaneously dream the same dream, still less do they simultaneously see the same subjective vision--at least a vision like that here referred to, of a person moving about among them, and speaking to them. This is quite different from Constantine's army thinking that they saw a luminous cross in the sky, or a body of Spanish troops that they saw their patron (St. James) riding at their head, or anything of that kind; several instances of which are known. But a subjective vision, at all resembling what is described in the Gospels, is extremely rare. It may perhaps happen to one person in ten thousand once in his life. It is difficult to believe that even two persons should have such an experience at the same time, while the idea that a dozen or more men should simultaneously see such a subjective vision is out of the question. And the Gospels, it may be added, always imply that Christ was visible _to all present_ (though some of them doubted as to His identity), which was not, as a rule, the case in other alleged visions. Eighthly, how are we to account for visionary _conversations_? Yet these occurred on _every_ occasion. Christ never merely appeared, and then vanished. He always spoke, and often for a considerable time, giving detailed instructions; and can we imagine anyone believing a mere vision to have done all this? Is it possible, for instance, for St. Thomas to have believed that Christ conversed with him, and for the other Apostles, _who were all present_, to have believed it too, if the whole affair was only a vision? Indeed, conversations _in the presence of others_ seem peculiarly hard to explain as visions, yet they are mentioned more than once. For all these reasons then--because the appearances are not described in suitable language, did not occur on suitable occasions, began and ended too soon, were not expected, were not recognised, were not believed, occurred simultaneously, and always included conversations as well--the Vision Theory is to say the least extremely improbable. (3.) _Its failure to account for the facts._ But this is not all; the Theory is not only improbable, it does not account for the actual _facts_ recorded--facts concerning which, unless the writings are intentionally false, there could be no doubt whatever. A vision, for instance, could not have rolled away the stone from the door of the tomb, yet this is vouched for by _every_ Evangelist. Again, persons could not have honestly believed that they went to the tomb, and found it empty, if the Body was there all the time. And this also is vouched for by _every_ Evangelist. Nor could they have thought that they _touched_ their Master, _i.e._, took hold of His feet, if He existed only in their imagination; for the attempt to touch Him would at once have shown them their mistake.[320] Nor could they have seen Him _eat food_, for a vision, like a dream, would not explain the disappearance of the food. Nor again could a mere vision take bread, and on another occasion bread and fish, and give it them to eat.[321] In regard to all these particulars, then, the Vision Theory is hopelessly untenable. [Footnote 320: Matt. 28. 9.] [Footnote 321: Luke 24. 30, 43; John 21. 13; Acts 10. 41.] There is also the great difficulty as to what became of the _dead Body_ of Christ. For if it was still in the grave, the Jews would have produced it, rather than invent the story about its being stolen; and if it was not in the grave, its removal could not have been due to visions. With regard to this story it may be noticed that St. Matthew says it was _spread abroad_ among the Jews; and Justin Martyr, himself a native of Palestine, also alludes to it. For he says that the Jews sent men all over the world to proclaim that the disciples _stole_ the Body at _night_;[322] so there can be no doubt that some such story existed. [Footnote 322: Matt. 28. 15; Justin, Dial., 108.] But its weakness is self-evident. For if the soldiers (who were probably posted on the Saturday evening, and thus not known to the women) were, as they said, _asleep_ at the time, how could they tell whether the disciples had stolen the Body, or whether Christ had come forth of His own accord? Moreover that Roman soldiers, with their strict discipline, who were put there on purpose to keep the Body, should really have gone to sleep, and allowed it to be stolen, is _most improbable_. And though it seems unlikely that they could have been bribed to say they were asleep, if they were not, as it was a capital offence; we must remember that they were _already_ liable to death; since they had left the tomb, and the Body was gone. So whether they were asleep, or awake, at the time mattered little. And in any case, the fact of their having left it (which is plain from all the accounts) shows that something very extraordinary must have happened. All, then, that the story proves is this (but this it does prove unquestionably), that though the Body was guarded, yet when it was wanted it was gone, and could not be found. And this is a strong argument not only against the Vision Theory, but against every theory except the Christian one. For when the Resurrection was first announced, the most obvious and decisive answer would have been for the Jews to have produced the dead Body; and their not doing this strongly supports the Christian account. Indeed, the _empty tomb_, together with the failure of all attempts to account for it, was doubtless one of the reasons why the Apostles gained so many converts the first day they preached the Resurrection.[323] [Footnote 323: Acts 2. 41.] Lastly, we must remember that this gaining of converts, _i.e._, the _founding of Christianity_, is, after all, the great fact that has to be explained. And even if the Vision Theory could account for the Apostles themselves believing that they had seen Christ, it would not account for their being able to convince others of this belief, especially if the Body was still in the tomb. For a mere vision, like a ghost story, would begin and end in nothing; and if the Resurrection also began in nothing, how are we to account for its ending in so much? Summing up these arguments, then, we conclude that the Vision Theory is most improbable in any case; and can only be accepted at all by admitting that nearly the whole of our accounts are not only untrue, but intentionally so. But then it is quite needless. Its object was to explain the alleged Resurrection without disputing the _veracity_ of the writers, and this it is quite unable to do. In short, if the writers honestly believed the accounts as we have them, or indeed any other accounts at all resembling them, the Vision Theory is out of the question. It does not even account satisfactorily for the one appearance, that to St. Paul, which it might be thought capable of explaining. For his _companions_ as well as himself saw the Light and (apparently) heard the Voice, though not the actual words.[324] And how could a subjective vision of St. Paul have thus affected all his companions? Moreover physical blindness does not result from such a vision, and to say that in his case the wish was father to the thought, and that his expectation and hope of seeing Christ eventually made him think that he did see Him, is absurd. For even when he did see Him, he did not recognise Him; but had to ask _Who art Thou, Lord?_ Here then was the case of an avowed enemy, and a man of great intellectual power, who was converted, and that against his will, solely by the appearance of Christ. And as he had access to all existing evidence on both sides, and had everything to lose and nothing to gain from the change, his conversion alone is a strong argument in favour of the Resurrection, more especially as the fact itself is beyond dispute. [Footnote 324: Acts 9. 7; 22. 9; 26. 13, 14.] (4.) _The Theory of real visions._ Before passing on, we must just glance at a modification of the Vision Theory, that has been suggested in recent years; which is that the Apostles saw _real_ visions, miraculously sent by God, to persuade them to go on preaching the Gospel. And no doubt this theory avoids many of the difficulties of the ordinary Vision Theory, especially in regard to the appearances beginning so soon as the third day, their not being expected, and their occurring simultaneously. But it has even greater difficulties of its own. For it admits the supernatural, and yet these divinely sent visions were such as to _mislead_ the Apostles, and to make them think that Christ's Body had risen from the grave, and saw no corruption, when in reality it was still decaying in the tomb. And this alone is fatal to the theory. For if God gave a supernatural vision, it would certainly be to convince men of what was true, not of what was false. And even a real miracle is easier to believe, than that God should found His Church on a false one. Moreover supernatural visions are just as unable as natural ones to account for the facts recorded, such as the rolling away of the stone, the empty tomb, the holding of Christ by His feet, or the disappearance of the food. While the great difficulty as to what became of the dead Body, applies to this as much as to the ordinary Vision Theory. (_D._) THE SWOON THEORY. Lastly we come to the Swoon Theory. This would be to deny the _reasoning_ of the witnesses; and say that though they saw Christ alive after His Crucifixion, they did not draw the right conclusion in thinking that He had risen from the dead, since as a matter of fact He had never died, but had only fainted on the Cross. And in support of this, it is urged that death after crucifixion did not generally occur so quickly, since Pilate _marvelled if He were already dead_; and that He might easily have been mistaken for dead, as no accurate tests were known in those days. While the blood coming out of His side is also appealed to, because blood does not flow from a dead body. Moreover, as He was then placed in a cool rock cave, with aromatic spices, He would probably recover consciousness; when He would come forth and visit His friends, and ask for something to _eat_: which is what He did according to St. Luke. And they, superstitious men, looking upon their Master as in some sense Divine, and perhaps half expecting the Resurrection, would at once conclude that He had risen from the dead; especially if they had already heard that the tomb was empty. And the chief argument in favour of the theory is, of course, the same as that in favour of the Vision Theory. It professes to account for the recorded appearances, without admitting either the truth of the Resurrection, or deliberate falsehood on the part of the witnesses; who, according to this theory, were themselves mistaken in thinking that Christ had risen from the dead, when in reality He had never died. They could not therefore have helped in restoring Him; He must have recovered by Himself. This is essential to the theory; so it is quite unlike a case recorded by Josephus, where a man who had been crucified, and taken down alive, was gradually restored by a doctor.[325] [Footnote 325: Josephus, Life, 75.] How then would this theory suit the facts of the case? While admitting its possibility, it is hard to find words to express its great _improbability_. It has immense difficulties, many of them peculiarly its own. And first as to Christ Himself. He must have been extremely exhausted after all the ill-treatment He had received, yet He is supposed not only to have recovered consciousness, but to have come out of the tomb by Himself, rolling away the large stone. And then, instead of creeping about weak and ill, and requiring nursing and medical treatment, He must have walked over twelve miles--and this with pierced feet[326]--to Emmaus and back. And the same evening He must have appeared to His disciples so completely recovered that they, instead of looking upon Him as still half-dead, thought that He had conquered death, and was indeed the Prince of Life. All this implies such a rapid recovery as is quite incredible. [Footnote 326: The feet being pierced is often disputed, but St. Luke (who probably knew more about crucifixion than we do) evidently thought they were; for he records Christ as saying, _See my hands and my feet that it is I myself_, which implies that His hands and feet would identify Him.] Next as to the piercing of His side with a spear.[327] This is recorded by an eye-witness, and would doubtless of itself have caused death, though St. John's statement that He was dead already seems the more probable. Nor did the blood coming out, in any way, disprove this. For blood (as long as it remains liquid) will of course flow out _downwards_ from any body, just as other liquids would do. Only when a person is alive, the action of the heart will make it flow out upwards as well. [Footnote 327: John 19. 34.] Again, it is most unlikely that so many persons, both friends and foes, should have mistaken Christ for dead. Yet according to this theory the _soldiers_ entrusted with the execution, who must have had a good deal of experience in such matters; the _centurion_, who was sent for by Pilate on purpose to ascertain this very point; the _Christians_, who took down the Body and wrapped it in linen cloths; and the _Jews_, who are not likely to have left their Victim without making sure of the fact, must all have honestly believed that Christ was dead when He was not. Moreover, the tomb was carefully guarded by His enemies for the express purpose of securing the Body. How then did they let it escape? If they were not asleep at the time, they must either have done this _willingly_, because they were bribed; or _unwillingly_, because they could not help it, being overcome by some supernatural Power; and either alternative is fatal to the Swoon Theory. This theory also requires not only that the Apostles should have been mistaken in thinking that Christ had risen from the dead, but that Christ Himself should have countenanced the mistake; or He would have explained the truth to His disciples. He is thus made to be a deceiver instead of His Apostles, which all will admit to be most improbable. And then, what became of Him afterwards? If He died again within a few weeks, His disciples could scarcely have thought Him the Prince of Life, who had the keys of Death and of Hades;[328] and if He continued to live, where did He go to? Moreover He must have died again at some time, and His real tomb is sure to have been much venerated by His followers; and it would have prevented any belief in the Ascension. Yet as said before (Chapter XV.), this seems to have formed a part of Christian instruction from the very first. [Footnote 328: Acts 3. 15; Rev. 1. 18.] But perhaps the chief argument against this theory is that it does not account for many of the actual _facts_ recorded; such as Christ passing through closed doors, His vanishing at pleasure, and His Ascension. These details present no difficulty on the Vision Theory, nor on that of deliberate falsehood; but they are inconsistent with the present one. And though it accounts to some extent for the empty tomb; it does not account for the _angels_ being there, announcing the Resurrection. Nor does it account for the _grave-clothes_ being so carefully left behind. For if Christ had come out of the tomb by Himself, He could scarcely have left His clothes behind; not to mention the difficulty of taking them off, caused by the adhesive myrrh, which would have stuck them together, and to the Body. These grave-clothes are thus fatal to this, as to every other theory, except the Christian one; yet it was a simple matter of fact, as to which there could be no possible _mistake_. Either the clothes were there, or else the persons who said they saw them were telling a falsehood. Moreover, in any case Christ could not have walked to Emmaus and back, or appeared to the Apostles, or to anyone else, in His _grave-clothes_, so He must have obtained some others, and how did He get them? His enemies are not likely to have supplied them, and if His friends did, they must have been aware of the fraud. On the whole then, we decide that the _Swoon Theory_, like the Vision Theory, is very improbable in any case, and only tenable at all by supposing a large part of our narratives to be intentionally false. But then it is quite needless. (_E._) CONCLUSION. Before concluding this chapter a few remarks may be made on the alleged difficulties of the _Christian_ theory. There are only two of any importance. The first is that the Resurrection would be a _miracle_, and probably nine out of ten men who disbelieve it, do so for this reason. It is not that the evidence for it is insufficient (they have perhaps never examined it) but that no conceivable evidence would be sufficient to establish such an event. Miracles, they say, are incredible, _they cannot happen_, and that settles the point; for it is of course easier to believe _any_ explanation, visions, swoons, or anything else, than the occurrence of that which cannot happen. But we have already admitted, in Chapter VII., that miracles are _not_ incredible. And though no doubt, _under ordinary circumstances_, a dead man coming to life again would be so _extremely_ improbable as to be practically incredible; yet these were not ordinary circumstances, and Christ was not an ordinary man. On the contrary, as we shall see, He was an absolutely unique Man, claiming moreover to be Divine, and having a mass of powerful evidence both from His own Character, from previous Prophecies, and from subsequent History, to support His claims. Therefore that He should rise from the dead, as a proof that these claims were well-founded, does not seem so very improbable after all. The other difficulty refers to Christ's not appearing _publicly_ to the Jews. Why, it is asked, did He only appear to His own disciples? Surely this is very suspicious. If He really did rise from the dead, and wished the world to believe it, why did He not settle the point by going publicly into Jerusalem? But we cannot feel sure that this would have _settled the point_. No doubt the Jews who saw Him would have been convinced, but the nation as a whole might, or might not, have accepted Christianity. If they did _not_, saying for instance it was due to a pretender, it would have been worse than useless. While if they did, the Romans would very likely have looked upon it as a national insurrection, and its progress would have been more than ever difficult. It would also have greatly weakened the force of _Prophecy_; since, in the absence of ancient manuscripts, people might think that the old Jewish prophecies had been tampered with, to make them suit their Christian interpretation. But now these prophecies, having been preserved by men who are opposed to Christianity, are above suspicion. Moreover, to get the world to believe in the Resurrection required not only evidence, but _missionaries_, that is to say, men who were so absolutely convinced of its truth, as to be willing to spend their whole lives in witnessing for it, in all lands and at all costs. And the chief object of the appearances may have been to produce such men; and it is obvious that (apart from a miraculous conversion like St. Paul's) there could not have been more than a few of them. For only a _few_ could have conversed with Christ, and eaten with Him after His death, so as to be quite certain that He was then alive; only a _few_ could have known Him so intimately before, as to be quite certain that it was really He, and only a _few_ had loved Him so dearly as to be willing to give up everything for His sake. In short, there were only a few _suitable_ witnesses available. And Christ's frequently appearing to these few--the _chosen witnesses_ as they are called[329]--in the private and intimate manner recorded in the Gospels, was evidently more likely to turn them into ardent missionaries (which it actually did) than any public appearance. Indeed it so often happens that what everybody should do, nobody does; that it may be doubted whether Christ's publicly appearing to a number of persons in Jerusalem would have induced even one of them to have faced a life of suffering, and a death of martyrdom, in spreading the news. This objection, then, cannot be maintained. [Footnote 329: Acts 10. 41.] In conclusion, it seems scarcely necessary to sum up the arguments in this chapter. We have discussed at some length the veracity, knowledge, investigation, and reasoning of the _first witnesses_ of the Resurrection; and as we have seen, not one of these points can be fairly doubted. In fact the evidence in favour of each is overwhelming. Therefore the alternative theories--the Falsehood, the Legend, the Vision, and the Swoon Theory--which are founded on denying these points, are all untenable. And this greatly supports the conclusion we arrived at in the last chapter; so that combining the two; we have an _extremely strong_ argument in favour of the Resurrection of Christ. CHAPTER XIX. THAT THE OTHER NEW TESTAMENT MIRACLES ARE PROBABLY TRUE. (_A._) THEIR CREDIBILITY. They present few difficulties; the casting out of evil spirits. (_B._) THEIR TRUTHFULNESS. (1.) General marks of truthfulness. (2.) Special marks of truthfulness. (_C._) THEIR PUBLICITY. (1.) They occurred in public. (2.) They were publicly appealed to. (3.) They were never disputed. (4.) The silence of classical writers. (_D._) CONCLUSION. Futile attempts to explain them away, the subject of modern miracles. Having discussed in the last two chapters the Resurrection of Christ, we pass on now to the other New Testament miracles, and will consider in turn their _credibility_, their _truthfulness_, and their _publicity_. (_A._) THEIR CREDIBILITY. Now with one exception, the casting out of evil spirits, the miracles present scarcely any difficulty provided miracles at all are credible, which we have already admitted. Most of them, especially those of healing, were very suitable from a moral point of view, while that they were meant to confirm Christ's teaching and claims is beyond dispute. Not only do all the Evangelists declare this, but Christ Himself though He refused to work a miracle when challenged to do so--He would not work one _to order_, as we might say--yet appealed to His _public_ miracles in the most emphatic manner. Thus, when St. John the Baptist sent messengers to inquire whether He was the Messiah, His only answer was, 'Go your way, and tell John the things which ye do hear and see; the blind receive their sight, and the lame walk, the lepers are cleansed, and the deaf hear, and the dead are raised up,'[330] etc. And this is specially important because Christians would not have _invented_ an incident which shows that Christ's own messenger had (apparently) lost faith in Him. Yet it is not easy to separate his question from the reply which it received; while if we admit that Christ gave this reply, it seems to settle the question as to His working miracles. [Footnote 330: Matt. 11. 4; Luke 7. 22; see also Mark 2. 10; John 5. 36.] And He afterwards condemned Chorazin, and other cities, in the strongest terms, because, although He had done so many miracles there, they had not repented; which again shows both the publicity of the miracles, and their intended evidential value.[331] And this passage also is very important, since its genuineness is confirmed by the fact that not a single miracle is recorded as having been worked at Chorazin. Yet, if the Evangelists (or anyone else) had invented the saying, they would surely have invented some miracles there to justify it. If on the other hand, they did not invent it, and the words were actually spoken by Christ, is it conceivable that He should have blamed these cities for not believing on Him in spite of His miracles, if He had done no miracles? [Footnote 331: Matt. 11. 21-24; Luke 10. 13-15. Both this passage, and the last, belong to Q, the supposed earliest source of our Gospels.] We pass on now to the _casting out of evil spirits_, which implies that persons may sometimes be _possessed_ by such spirits, and this is often thought to be a difficulty. But though our ignorance on the subject is undoubtedly great, there is nothing incredible here. For we have already admitted the _influence_ of such spirits (Chapter XII.), and what is called _possession_ is merely an extreme form of influence. Indeed, the accounts of mesmerism at the present day, though they cannot always be trusted, seem to show that even one man may so entirely _possess_ the mind and will of another as to make him do whatever he wishes. And it is certainly no more difficult to believe that this power may in some cases be exercised by an evil spirit. With regard to the outward symptoms mentioned in the Gospels, they seem to have resembled certain forms of madness; though, as the patients are now kept under restraint in civilised countries, they have not the same notoriety. But it may be said, why ascribe this madness to an evil spirit? But why not? Madness often follows the frequent yielding to certain temptations, such as drunkenness or impurity; and that it may really be due to the action of an evil spirit (an _unclean_ spirit is the significant term used in the Gospels) and be the appropriate punishment for yielding to _his_ temptation, is certainty not incredible. And if so, considering the immoral state of the world at the time of Christ, we cannot be surprised at such cases being far more common then than now. And the writers, it may be added, do not (like some early nations) attribute _all_ maladies to evil spirits, for we read of men having fever and palsy, as well as being blind, lame, deaf, and dumb, without any hint of its being due to an evil spirit; so they were quite able to distinguish between the two. There is, however, one instance--the swine at Gadara--of _animals_ being thus afflicted,[332] which undoubtedly forms a difficulty, and I have never seen a satisfactory explanation of it. But still our ignorance about animals, combined with the fact that they resemble man in so many respects, prevents us from saying that it is absolutely incredible. And as to the alleged _injustice_ of the miracle (which is often objected to) we must remember that if Christ were the Divine Being He claimed to be, the world and all it contained belonged to Him; so His allowing the swine to be destroyed by evil spirits was no more unjust to their owners, than if He had allowed them to die by disease. [Footnote 332: Matt. 8. 30-32; Mark 5. 11-13; Luke 8. 32-33.] Lastly, all the Christian miracles lose a great deal of their improbability when we consider the _unique position of Christ_. And what would be incredible, if told of another man who had done nothing to alter the history of the world, may easily be credible of _Him_. We decide, then, that all the New Testament miracles are _credible_: we have next to consider whether they are _true_. (_B._) THEIR TRUTHFULNESS. Now the testimony in favour of these miracles is very similar to that in favour of the Resurrection of Christ. They are recorded by the same writers and in the same books, and everything points to these accounts being trustworthy. To put it shortly, the writers had no motive for recording the miracles unless they believed them to be true, and they had ample means of finding out whether they were true or not; while many of them are such as cannot possibly be explained by want of investigation, or an error in reasoning. Moreover, as we shall see, they contain numerous marks of truthfulness. These may be divided into two classes, _general_, or those which concern the miracles as a whole; and _special_, or those which concern individual miracles, or sayings about them; and we will consider each in turn. (1.) _General marks of truthfulness._ Among these we may notice first the extremely _simple and graphic_ way in which many of the miracles are described, such as the curing of the man who was born blind, with the repeated questioning of the man himself.[333] Then there is the raising of the daughter of Jairus, and the curing of the man who was deaf and had a difficulty in speaking, both of which are described with the most minute details, including the actual Aramaic words spoken by Christ.[334] It is difficult to think that they do not come from eye-witnesses. And the same may be said of a large number of the miracles. [Footnote 333: John 9. 8-34.] [Footnote 334: Mark 5. 41; 7. 34.] Secondly, the _kind_ of miracles ascribed to Christ seem (as far as we can judge) to be worthy of Him. They were not for His own benefit, but for that of other people, and they are a great contrast to the imaginary miracles ascribed to Him in the Apocryphal Gospels, most of which are extremely childish. When for instance Christ was a boy, we read of His making clay birds fly; of His turning children into kids for refusing to play with Him; and of His cursing another boy who had run against Him, and who in consequence fell down dead.[335] How different such miracles are from those in our Gospels scarcely needs pointing out. Nor is the case of the _barren fig-tree_, so often objected to, an exception. For the tree itself could have felt no injury, and as far as we know, its destruction injured no one else. [Footnote 335: Gospel of the Infancy, chapters xv., xvii., xix.] Thirdly, the miracles are closely connected with the _moral teaching_ of Christ, and it is difficult either to separate the two, or to believe the whole account to be fictitious. His wonderful works, and His wonderful words involve each other, and form together an harmonious whole, which is too life-like to be imaginary. Indeed, a life of Christ without His miracles would be as unintelligible as a life of Napoleon without his campaigns. And it is interesting to note in this connection that our earliest Gospel, St. Mark's, contains (in proportion to its length) the most miracles. As we should expect, it was Christ's miracles, rather than His moral teaching, which first attracted attention. Fourthly, the miracles were as a rule miracles of _healing_: that is to say, of restoring something to its natural state, such as making blind eyes see; and not doing something unnatural, such as giving a man a third eye. Miracles of either kind would of course show superhuman power; but the former are obviously the more suited to the God of Nature. And this _naturalness_ of the miracles, as we may call it, seems to many a strong argument in their favour. Fifthly, there were an immense _number_ of miracles, the ones recorded being mere _examples_ of those that were actually worked. Thus in St. Mark's Gospel we are told that on one occasion, Christ healed _many_ who were sick with _divers_ diseases; on another that He had healed so _many_, that those with plagues pressed upon Him to touch Him; and on another that everywhere He went, into the villages, cities, or country, the sick were laid out, so that they might touch His garment, and _as many as touched Him were made whole_.[336] [Footnote 336: Mark 1. 34; 3. 10; 6. 56] Sixthly, there was a great _variety_ in the miracles. They were of various kinds, worked in various places, before various witnesses, and with various details and characteristics. They occurred in public as well as in private; in the towns as well as in the country; at sea as well as on land; in groups as well as singly; at a distance as well as near; after due notice as well as suddenly; when watched by enemies as well as among friends; unsolicited as well as when asked for; in times of joy, and in times of sorrow. They were worked on the blind as well as the deaf; the lame as well as the dumb; the leprous as well as the palsied; the dead as well as the living. They concerned men as well as women; the rich as well as the poor; the educated as well as the ignorant; the young as well as the old; multitudes as well as individuals; Gentiles as well as Jews; nature as well as man--in fact, according to our accounts, it is difficult to imagine any miracles that could have been more absolutely convincing. Seventhly, the miracles of Christ were (with trifling exceptions) worked _suddenly_. They were not like gradual cures, or slow recoveries, but they were done in a moment. The blind man _immediately_ received his sight; the palsied _immediately_ took up his couch: the leper was _straightway_ cleansed; the infirm was _straightway_ made whole; the dead _immediately_ rose up, etc.[337] This was evidently a striking feature in the miracles, and the Evangelists seem to have been much impressed by it. [Footnote 337: Luke 18. 43; 5. 25; Mark 1. 42; Matt. 8. 3; John 5. 9; Luke 8. 55.] Eighthly, many of the miracles were of a _permanent_ character, and such as could be examined again and again. When, for instance, a man who had long been lame, or deaf, or blind, was restored to health, the villagers, as well as the man himself, could certify to the cure for years to come. And miracles such as these are obviously of much greater value than what we may call _momentary_ miracles (such as Christ's calming the storm) where the only possible evidence is that of the actual spectators. Lastly, and this is very remarkable, the Evangelists nearly always relate that Christ worked His miracles _by His own authority_: while the Old Testament prophets, with scarcely an exception, worked theirs by calling upon God. Take for instance the similar cases of raising a widow's son.[338] Elijah prays earnestly that God would restore the child to life; Christ merely gives the command, _I say unto thee, Arise_. The difference between the two is very striking, and is of itself a strong argument in favour of Christ's miracles; for had the Evangelists invented them, they would certainly have made them resemble those of the Old Testament. But instead of this, they describe them as worked in a new and unprecedented manner, and one which must at the time have seemed most presumptuous. [Footnote 338: 1 Kings 17. 21; Luke 7. 14.] The Gospel miracles then, from the simple and graphic way in which they are described; their not containing anything childish or unworthy; their close connection with the moral teaching of Christ; their naturalness; their number; their variety; their suddenness; their permanence; and above all from the authoritative way in which they are said to have been worked; have every appearance of being truth fully recorded. (2.) _Special marks of truthfulness._ Moreover several individual miracles, and sayings about them, are of such a kind as could scarcely have been invented. Take, for instance, the raising of the daughter of Jairus.[339] Now of course anyone, wishing to magnify the power of Christ, might have invented this or any other miracle. But if so, he is not likely to have put into the mouth of Christ Himself the words, _The child is not dead but sleepeth_. These words seem to imply that Christ did not consider it a miracle; and though we may be able to explain them, by the similar words used in regard to Lazarus,[340] they certainly bear the marks of genuineness. [Footnote 339: Mark 5. 39.] [Footnote 340: John 11. 11.] We are also told, more than once, that Christ's power of working miracles was _conditional_ on the faith of the person to be healed, so that in one place He could do scarcely any miracles _because of their unbelief_.[341] This is not the sort of legend that would have grown up round a glorified Hero; it bears unmistakably the mark of truthfulness. But then if the writer had good means of knowing that Christ could do no miracles in one place, because of their unbelief; had he not equally good means of knowing that Christ could, and did, do miracles in other places? [Footnote 341: Matt. 13. 58; Mark 6. 5-6; Luke 18. 42.] And what shall we say of Christ's frequent commands to keep His miracles _secret_?[342] There were doubtless reasons for this in every case; but Christ's followers, who presumably recorded the miracles in order to get them known, are not likely to have invented, and put into His mouth the command to keep them secret. Nor is Christ likely to have given it, had there been no miracles to keep secret. Nor again is anyone likely to have added, unless it was the case, that the command was generally _disobeyed_. This seems surprising, yet it is very true to human nature that a man who had been suddenly cured of a long complaint, should insist on talking about it. [Footnote 342: _E.g._, Mark 3. 12; 5. 43; 7. 36.] In the same way the discussions about working miracles _on the Sabbath Day_ have a very genuine tone about them and it is difficult to imagine them to be inventions.[343] Yet such discussions could not have arisen, if there had been no miracles on the Sabbath, or any other day. [Footnote 343: Mark 3. 1-5; Luke 13. 10-17; John 5. 9-16; 9. 14-16.] Then there is the striking passage where Christ warned His hearers that even working miracles in His name, without a good life, would not ensure their salvation.[344] This occurs in one of His most characteristic discourses, the Sermon on the Mount, and it is hard to doubt its genuineness. But even if we do, it is not likely that Christ's followers would have invented such a warning, if as a matter of fact no one ever did work miracles in His name. [Footnote 344: Matt. 7. 22.] And much the same may be said of another passage where Christ is recorded as saying that _all_ believers would be able to work miracles.[345] If He said so, He must surely have been able to work them Himself; and if He did not say so, His followers must have been able to work them, or their inventing such a promise would merely have shown that they were not believers. On the whole, then, as said before, the accounts of the New Testament miracles have every appearance of being thoroughly truthful. [Footnote 345: Mark 16. 17.] (_C._) THEIR PUBLICITY. But the most important point has still to be noticed, which is the alleged _publicity_ of these miracles; and as this renders the testimony in their favour peculiarly strong, we must examine it at some length. (1.) _They occurred in public._ To begin with, according to our Gospels, all the miracles of Christ occurred during His _public ministry_, when He was well known, that at Cana being definitely called the first.[346] And as they were meant to confirm His teaching and claims, it was only natural for them to begin when His teaching began. But if they had been invented, or had grown up as legends, some at least would have been ascribed to His earlier years (as they are in the Apocryphal Gospels) when there was less chance of their being disputed. [Footnote 346: John 2. 11.] Moreover, many of them are stated to have been worked openly, and before crowds of people, including Scribes, Pharisees, and lawyers.[347] And the _names_ of the places where they occurred, and even of the persons concerned, are given in some cases. Among these were _Jairus_, a ruler of the synagogue; _Lazarus_, a well known man at Bethany; _Malchus_, a servant of the High Priest; and the _centurion_ at Capernaum, who, though his name is not given, must have been well known to the Jews, as he had built them a synagogue. While the miracles recorded in the Acts concern such prominent persons as the _proconsul_, Sergius Paulus, at Cyprus, and the _chief man_, Publius, at Malta. And it is hard to overestimate the immense difficulty of thus asserting _public_ miracles, with the names of persons, and places, if none occurred; yet the early Christians asserted such miracles from the very first. [Footnote 347: _E.g._, Luke 5. 17-21.] Take for instance the feeding of the five thousand, near the Lake of Galilee. This is recorded in the earliest Gospel, St. Mark's, and must therefore have been written down very soon after the event, when a large number of the five thousand were still alive. Now is it conceivable that anyone would have ventured to make up such an account, even twenty years afterwards, if nothing of the kind had occurred? And if he had done so, would not his story have been instantly refuted? Or take the case of healing the centurion's servant at Capernaum. This, as before said, belongs to Q, the supposed source common to Matthew and Luke, and admitted by most critics to date from before A.D. 50. And how could such a story have been current within twenty years of the event, if nothing of the kind had occurred? It is also declared that the miracles were much talked about at the time, and caused widespread astonishment. The people _marvelled_ at them, they _wondered_, they were _amazed_, they were _beyond measure astonished_, there had been nothing like them _since the world began_.[348] The miracles were in fact the talk of the whole neighbourhood. And we are told that in consequence several of those which occurred at Jerusalem were at once officially investigated by the Jewish rulers, who made the most searching inquiries about them;[349] and in two instances, at least, publicly admitted them to be true.[350] And this also is not likely to have been asserted, unless it was the case; and not likely to have been the case, if there had been no miracles. [Footnote 348: Matt. 9. 33; 15. 31; Mark 5. 42; 7. 37; John 9. 32.] [Footnote 349: _E.g._, John 9. 13-34; Acts 4. 5-22.] [Footnote 350: John 11. 47; Acts 4. 16.] (2.) _They were publicly appealed to._ Moreover, these public miracles were _publicly appealed to_ by the early Christians. According to the _Acts_, this was done in the very first public address, that at Pentecost, by St. Peter, who reminds his hearers that they had themselves seen the miracles (_even as ye yourselves know_), as well as in one other speech at least.[351] And this is important, because even those critics, who deny the genuineness of the Acts, yet admit that these speeches date from a very early time. And if so, it shows conclusively that some of Christ's immediate followers not only believed themselves that He had worked miracles, but spoke as if their opponents believed it too. [Footnote 351: Acts 2. 22; 10. 38.] That they are not more frequently alluded to in the Acts is not surprising, when we remember that, according to the writer,--and he was an _eye-witness_ in some cases, as they occur in the _We_ sections,[352]--the Apostles themselves worked miracles. There was thus no occasion for them to appeal to those of Christ as proving the truth of what they preached; their own miracles being quite sufficient to convince anyone who was open to this kind of proof. But still the important fact remains that in the first recorded Christian address the public miracles of Christ were publicly appealed to. And this was within a few months of their occurrence; and at Jerusalem, where the statement, if untrue, could have been more easily refuted than anywhere else. [Footnote 352: Acts 16. 18, 26; 28. 6, 8-9.] Passing on to _St. Paul's Epistles_; it is true that they do not contain any reference to Christ's miracles, except of course the Resurrection. But as they were not written to convert heathens, but to instruct those who were already Christians, there is nothing surprising in this; and they do not mention any of His parables either. On the other hand, they do contain direct reference to _Apostolic_ miracles. St. Paul in two of his undisputed Epistles positively asserts that he had worked miracles himself; and he uses the same three words, _signs_, _wonders_, and _mighty works_, which are used in the Gospels to describe the miracles of Christ.[353] [Footnote 353: Rom. 15. 18, 19; 2 Cor. 12. 12.] The second passage is extremely important, since he speaks of them as the _signs of an apostle_; and calls upon his opponents at Corinth to admit that he was an apostle _because_ he had worked these miracles. And this implies not only that the miracles were done in public, but that his readers as well as himself believed that the power of working miracles belonged to all the Apostles. And it will be noticed that he is addressing the very persons among whom he declares he had worked the miracles; which makes it almost inconceivable that his claim was unfounded, quite apart from the difficulty of believing that such a man as St. Paul would wilfully make a false statement. From all this it follows that the first preachers of Christianity not only appealed to Christ's miracles; but also to their own, in support of their claims. And, as just said, how they could have done so, if they worked no miracles, is not easy to understand. We next come to a class of writings where we should expect to find Christ's miracles alluded to, and these are the first Christian _Apologies_. Nor are we disappointed. The three earliest, of which we have any knowledge, were by Quadratus, Aristides, and Justin; the first two being presented to the Emperor Hadrian, when he visited Athens, A.D. 125. _Quadratus_, in a passage preserved by Eusebius, lays stress on what we have called the _permanent_ character of Christ's miracles. He says: 'The works of our Saviour were always conspicuous, for they were real; both they that were healed and they that were raised from the dead were seen, not only when they were healed or raised, but for a long time afterwards; not only whilst He dwelt on this earth, but also after His departure, and for a good while after it, insomuch that some of them have reached to our times.'[354] [Footnote 354: Eusebius, Hist., iv. 3.] _Aristides_ bases his defence of Christianity on its moral character, and does not appeal to any public miracles, though as before said (Chapter XIV.) he asserts the Divinity, Incarnation, Virgin-birth, Resurrection, and Ascension of Christ. Lastly, _Justin_, about A.D. 150, not only specifies many of Christ's miracles; but also says in general terms that He 'healed those who were maimed, and deaf, and lame in body from their birth, causing them to leap, to hear, and to see by His word. And having raised the dead, and causing them to live, by His deeds He compelled the men who lived at that time to recognise Him. But though they saw such works, they asserted it was magical art.'[355] Justin, however, does not base his argument on miracles, but on prophecy, because, as he tells us again, the former might be ascribed to magic. [Footnote 355: Dial., 69; Apol. 1. 30.] But still, the actual occurrence of the miracles, he evidently thought to be indisputable. He even says that the Emperor and Senate can learn for themselves that Christ worked miracles (healing the lame, dumb, and blind, cleansing the lepers, and raising the dead) by consulting the _Acts of Pilate_.[356] And this certainly implies that such a document, whether genuine or not, then existed in Rome; and that it contained an account of the miracles. Thus two out of the three earliest writers in defence of Christianity appealed to Christ's miracles, in the most public manner possible, when addressing the Emperor. [Footnote 356: Apol. 1. 48, 35.] (3.) _They were never disputed._ But now comes another important point. Though these public miracles were publicly appealed to by the early Christians, and though written accounts of them were in circulation very soon after they are stated to have occurred; yet, as far as we know, they were _never disputed_. And this is the more remarkable, since they are said to have been worked among enemies as well as friends. They were thus peculiarly open to hostile criticism; and we may be sure that the bitter opponents of Christ, who had brought about His death, would have exposed them if they could. Yet, as just said, they were never disputed, either by Jews or Gentiles; though, of course, they both denied their evidential value. The _Jews_--that is to say the Scribes and Pharisees--did this, by ascribing them to the Evil One. And though this was a very strange expedient, as their effect was obviously good, and not evil, they had really no alternative. The common people were much impressed by the miracles, and were anxious to welcome Christ as their Messiah;[357] yet the Pharisees decided that such a man as this--so unlike what they expected--could not possibly be their Messiah. They had then to explain away the miracles somehow. And since they denied that they were worked by God, they were bound to ascribe them to the Devil, for these were the only supernatural powers they believed in; though of course both of these had subordinate angels under them. But we may ask, would the Jews have adopted such an expedient had there been any possibility of denying that the miracles occurred? Yet that they did adopt it can scarcely be disputed. It is positively asserted in each of the first three Gospels;[358] and Christians are not likely to have reported such a horrible suggestion as that their Master was an agent of the Evil One, unless it had been made. [Footnote 357: John 6. 15; Mark 11. 10.] [Footnote 358: Matt. 9. 34; 12. 24; Mark 3. 22; Luke 11. 15.] The _Gentiles_ on the other hand, believed in a variety of gods, many of whom were favourable to mankind, and could be invoked by _magic_; so they could consistently ascribe the miracles to some of these lesser deities; or, in popular language, to magic. And we have abundant evidence that they did so. As we have seen, it is expressly asserted by Justin, who in consequence preferred the argument from prophecy; and Irenæus did the same, and for avowedly the same reason.[359] [Footnote 359: Bk. ii. 32.] Moreover, _Celsus_, the most important opponent of Christianity in the second century, also adopted this view. His works are now lost, but Origen in answering him frequently and positively asserts it; saying that he often spoke of the miracles as _works of sorcery_.[360] And though Celsus lived some years after the time in question, it is most unlikely, if the early opponents of Christianity had denied that the miracles occurred, that its later opponents should have given up this strong line of defence, and have adopted the far weaker one that they did occur, but were due to magic. We are quite justified, then, in saying that Christ's miracles were not disputed at the time, and considering their alleged publicity, this is a strong additional argument in their favour. [Footnote 360: Origen cont. Cels., i. 38; ii. 48.] (4.) _The silence of classical writers._ All that can be said on the other side is from the _silence_ of classical writers. Had the miracles really occurred, it is said, especially in such a well-known place as Palestine, the writers of the day would have been full of them. Yet, with the single exception of Tacitus, they do not even allude to Christianity; and he dismisses it with contempt as a _pernicious superstition_.[361] [Footnote 361: Tacitus Annals. Bk. xv., ch. 44.] Now these words of Tacitus show that he had never studied the subject, for whatever may be said against the religion, it certainly was not pernicious; so he must have rejected Christianity _without examination_. And if the other classical writers did the same, there is nothing remarkable in their not alluding to it. Alleged marvels were common enough in those days, and they probably did not think the Christian miracles worth inquiring about. But we do not know of any writer who did inquire about them, and was not convinced of their truth. It may, of course, be replied that some of the events ought anyhow to be alluded to, such as the _darkness over all the land_ at the time of the Crucifixion. And if this extended over the whole of Palestine, it is certainly strange that it should not be noticed. But it may only refer to the neighbourhood of Jerusalem. Compare the expression _all the country of Judæa_[362] (when referring to the people being baptized) which is evidently not meant to be taken literally. And if the darkness was limited to the neighbourhood of Jerusalem, there is nothing surprising in its not being recorded by any except Christians, for whom of course it had a special significance. [Footnote 362: Mark 1. 5.] It should also be noticed that in some respects the testimony of Christian writers is _more_ valuable than that of either Jews or Gentiles: since none of the writers of that country were brought up as Christians. They were all unbelievers before they were believers; and if such testimony from unbelievers would be valuable, it is still more so from those who showed how thoroughly convinced they were of its truth by becoming believers. Indeed, the best Jewish or Gentile evidence conceivable is that of well-educated men, like St. Paul and St. Luke, who, on the strength of it, became Christians. Lastly, it must be remembered that the argument from silence is proverbially unsound. We have, for instance, over two hundred letters of the younger Pliny, and in only one of these does he mention Christianity. Suppose this one had been lost, what a strong argument could have been formed against the spread of Christianity from the silence of Pliny, yet this one shows its marvellous progress (see Chapter XXII.). This objection, then, is quite insufficient to outweigh the positive testimony in favour of the miracles, to which we have already alluded. (_D._) CONCLUSION. In conclusion we must notice certain rationalistic explanations which have been given of the miracles. It was hardly to be expected that, with such strong evidence in their favour, the modern opponents of Christianity would merely assert that the accounts were pure fiction from beginning to end. Attempts have of course been made to explain the miracles in such a way that, while depriving them of any supernatural character, it may yet be admitted that some such events occurred, which gave rise to the Christian accounts. The miracles of _healing_ are perhaps the easiest to explain in this way, as some wonderful instances of sudden, though natural, cures have been known. But it is doubtful whether any of Christ's miracles were of such a kind, for St. Paul is careful to distinguish between _gifts of healing_ and _working of miracles_.[363] Both were evidently known to the early Church, and known to be different. [Footnote 363: 1 Cor. 12. 9-10, 28.] And of course no such explanations will apply to most of the miracles, which have to be got rid of in various other ways. Thus Christ's walking on the sea is explained as His walking on a ridge of sand or rock running out just under the water; the raising of Lazarus as his having had himself buried alive, so that when Christ came, there might be a pretended miracle;[364] and feeding the five thousand as nothing more than the example of Christ and His friends, who so freely shared their small supply with those around them, that others did the same, and thus everyone had a little. It seems scarcely necessary to discuss these theories in detail, as they are all most improbable. [Footnote 364: This extraordinary theory was maintained by Rénan in the earlier editions of his _Life of Jesus_, though he afterwards abandoned it.] Moreover, their difficulties are all _cumulative_. The Christian explanation has but _one_ difficulty for all the miracles, which is that they _are_ miracles, and involve the supernatural. Once admit this, and twenty miracles (provided they occur on suitable occasions) are no more difficult to believe than two. But the difficulties of these explanations are all cumulative. If for instance, the raising of Lazarus is explained by his having been buried alive, it does not account for Christ's walking on the sea. If this is explained by the supposed ridge of sand, it does not account for feeding the five thousand, etc. Thus each difficulty has to be added to all the others, so taken together they are quite insuperable. One other point has still to be considered, which is the subject of modern miracles. Why, it is said, are there no miracles _now_, when they could be properly tested? If they were really employed by God as helps to the spread of His religion, why should they not have accompanied it at intervals all along, as it is said they did the Jewish religion? They are surely wanted for the support of Christianity at the present day; and if God were, _after due warning_, to work a public and indisputable miracle every half-century, all the other evidences of Christianity might be dispensed with. The answer to this objection is that the Christian revelation does not claim to be a gradual one, like the Jewish; but a final and complete revelation, made once for all through Christ and His Apostles. Therefore, as there is to be no fresh revelation, there can be no fresh miracles to confirm it. The question of _other_ miracles, such as those which are said to have been worked by Christians at various periods, need not be considered here. If _true_, they would of course tend to prove the New Testament ones; while, if _untrue_, they would not disprove them, any more than imitation diamonds would disprove the existence of real diamonds. Of course, it may be replied that God might still work a miracle now by a man, who stated that it was not to confirm anything that he said himself, but merely what the Founder of Christianity had said; and this is no doubt possible. But it would be a different method from that recorded in the Bible, where a messenger from God always brings his own credentials, even though, as in the case of a prophecy, they may not be verified till afterwards. And what reason have we for thinking that God would change His method now? It is also very doubtful whether a public miracle at the present day, would convince everybody. This objection, then, must be put aside, and we therefore conclude, on reviewing the whole subject, that the New Testament miracles are not only _credible_, but that there is extremely strong evidence in their favour. Indeed their marks of _truthfulness_, combined with their alleged _publicity_, form together a very powerful argument. And it is rendered all the stronger by their having been so thoroughly successful. Their object was to establish the truth of Christianity, and this is precisely what they did. The evidence they afforded was so decisive, that a hostile world found it irresistible. Moreover it is doubtful whether any other religion, except, of course, the Jewish, has ever claimed to have been confirmed by public miracles. Christianity thus rests upon a unique foundation. Unlike other religions, it appealed at first not to abstract reasoning, or moral consciousness, or physical force, but to miraculous events, of the truth or falsehood of which others could judge. They did judge, and they were convinced. We decide, then, that the New Testament miracles are probably true. CHAPTER XX. THAT THE JEWISH PROPHECIES CONFIRM THE TRUTH OF CHRISTIANITY. (_A._) ISAIAH'S PROPHECY OF THE LORD'S SERVANT. (1.) The historical agreement, very striking. (2.) The doctrinal agreement, equally so. (3.) The modern Jewish interpretation, quite untenable. (_B._) THE PSALM OF THE CRUCIFIXION. (1.) Its close agreement, all through. (2.) Two objections, unimportant. (_C._) THE DIVINITY OF THE MESSIAH. At least three prophecies of this; it is also involved in some hints as to the Doctrine of the Trinity. (_D._) CONCLUSION. Why are not the prophecies plainer? Cumulative nature of the evidence. We propose to consider in this chapter what is called the argument from _Prophecy_, using the word, as we did in Chapter XI., in the sense of _prediction_. Now it is a remarkable and undisputed fact that for many centuries before the time of Christ, it was foretold that a member of the Jewish nation--small and insignificant though it was--should be a blessing _to all mankind_. This promise is recorded as having been made both to Abraham, to Isaac, and to Jacob;[365] and as a matter of fact, Christianity was founded by a Jew, and has undoubtedly been a blessing to the human race. This is at least a remarkable coincidence. And as we proceed in the Old Testament, the statements about this future Messiah become clearer and fuller, till at last, in the Prophets, we find whole chapters referring to Him, which Christians assert were fulfilled in Christ. [Footnote 365: Gen. 22. 18; 26. 4; 28.14.] This argument is plainly of the utmost importance. Fortunately it is much simplified by the question of _dates_ being altogether excluded. As a rule, the most important point in an alleged prophecy is to show that it was written before its fulfilment. But here this is undisputed, since everyone admits that the whole of the Old Testament, except some of the apocryphal books, was written before the time of Christ. And as the writings have been preserved by the Jews themselves, who are opposed to the claims of Christianity, we may be sure that not a single alteration in its favour has been made anywhere. We will now examine a few of the strongest prophecies, avoiding all those that were only fulfilled in a figurative, or spiritual sense; and selecting whole passages rather than single texts. For though many of these latter are very applicable to Christ, they might also be applicable to someone else. So we will first discuss somewhat fully Isaiah's prophecy of the Lord's Servant, and the Psalm of the Crucifixion; and then examine more briefly a group of prophecies referring to the Divinity of the Messiah. (_A._) ISAIAH'S PROPHECY OF THE LORD'S SERVANT (52. 13-53. 12). It may be pointed out at starting that no one denies the antiquity of the passage, even if it was not written by Isaiah. And it forms a complete whole, closely connected together and not mixed up with any other subject. So in regard to its fulfilment, most of the details mentioned occurred within a few hours. We will consider first the historical, and then the doctrinal agreement. (1.) _The Historical Agreement._ With regard to this, the following is the translation from the Revised Version, together with the corresponding events. It will be observed that the sufferings of the Servant are usually expressed in the past tense, and his triumph in the future, the prophet placing himself, as it were, between the two. But the Hebrew tenses are rather uncertain, and what is translated as _past_ in the Revised Version is translated as _future_ in the Authorised (_e.g._, 53. 2). 52. 13. 'Behold, my servant shall deal wisely, he shall be exalted and lifted up, and shall be very high. The excellence of Christ's teaching and conduct is now generally admitted; while as to His exalted position, He is worshipped by millions of men. 14. 'Like as many were astonied at thee (his visage was so marred more than any man, and his form more than the sons of men) so shall he sprinkle many nations; Yet at the time of His death, which was public so that _many_ saw Him, the cruel treatment He had received must have terribly disfigured His face and body. 15. 'Kings shall shut their mouths at him: for that which had not been told them shall they see; and that which they had not heard shall they understand. But now even Kings are silent with reverence,[366] when contemplating such a wonderful life. [Footnote 366: _Comp._ Job 29. 9.] 53. 1. 'Who hath believed our report? 'and to whom hath the arm of the Lord been revealed? Indeed what the prophet is about to declare, is so marvellous that it can scarcely be believed. The Arm of the Lord evidently means some instrument, or Person, which God uses for His work, as a man might use his arm.[367] And here it must be a _Person_, from the following words, 'For _he_ grew up,' etc. It is thus a most suitable term for the Messiah, who was to be recognised by hardly anyone. 2. 'For he grew up before him as a tender plant, and as a root out of a dry ground: he hath no form nor comeliness; and when we see him, there is no beauty that we should desire him. This was because He lived at a place (Nazareth) which was always regarded as _dry ground_ so far as anything good was concerned.[368] Moreover, His appearance was humble, and when at His trial, Pilate presented Him to the people, they did not desire Him. 3. 'He was despised, and rejected of men; a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief: and as one from whom men hide their face he was despised, and we esteemed him not. But they at once rejected Him as they had done often before. 4. 'Surely he hath borne our griefs, and carried our sorrows: yet we did esteem him stricken, smitten of God, and afflicted. While His life was not only one of grief and sorrow, but such a death seemed to show that He was accursed of God, for the Jews so regarded anyone who was crucified.[369] 5. 'But he was wounded for our transgressions, he was bruised for our iniquities: the chastisement of our peace was upon him; and with his stripes we are healed. The scourging and other ill-treatment is here referred to; including probably the nails, and spear, for the word translated _wounded_ is literally _pierced_. [Footnote 367: _Comp._ Isa. 40. 10; 51. 9.] [Footnote 368: John 1. 46.] [Footnote 369: Deut. 21. 23; Gal. 3. 13.] 6. 'All we like sheep have gone astray; we have turned every one to his own way; and the Lord hath laid on him the iniquity of us all. 7. 'He was oppressed, yet he humbled himself and opened not his mouth; as a lamb that is led to the slaughter, and as a sheep that before her shearers is dumb; yea, he opened not his mouth. Christ, who is sometimes called the Lamb of God, not only bore His ill-treatment patiently, but refused to plead at either of His trials (the verse repeats twice _He opened not His mouth_) to the utter astonishment of His judges.[370] 8. 'By oppression and judgment he was taken away; and as for his generation, who among them considered that he was cut off out of the land of the living? for the transgression of my people was he stricken. He was not killed accidentally, or by the mob, but had a judicial trial; and was most unjustly condemned. While few, if any, of His contemporaries understood the real meaning of His death. 9. 'And they made his grave with the wicked, and with the rich in his death (i.e., _when he was dead_. Comp. Ps. 6. 8); although he had done no violence, neither was any deceit in his mouth. He was appointed to die between two robbers, and would doubtless have been buried with them, had not Joseph of Arimathea intervened; when, in strange contrast with His ignominious death, He was honourably buried, with costly spices, and in a rich man's tomb. Although His judge repeatedly declared that He was innocent. 10. 'Yet it pleased the Lord to bruise him; he hath put him to grief: when thou shalt make his soul an offering for sin, he shall see his seed, he shall prolong his days, and the pleasure of the Lord shall prosper in his hand. Yet after His death He was to see His seed, and _prolong His days_, _i.e._, rise again from the dead. The word _seed_ cannot mean here, actual children,[371] since He was to obtain them by His death. But it may well refer to the disciples, whom Christ saw after His Resurrection, and called His _children_.[372] [Footnote 370: Matt. 26. 62; 27. 14.] [Footnote 371: _Comp._ Isa. 1. 4.] [Footnote 372: Mark 10. 24; John 21. 5.] 11. 'He shall see of the travail of his soul, and shall be satisfied: by his knowledge shall my righteous servant justify many: and he shall bear their iniquities. And this is confirmed by their being spoken of as _the travail of His soul_, not body. While the latter expression also implies that He had had some intense mental struggle comparable to the bodily pains of childbirth; which is very suitable to His mental agony in the Garden and on the Cross. 12. 'Therefore will I divide him a portion with the great, and he shall divide the spoil with the strong; because he poured out his soul unto death, and was numbered with the transgressors: yet he bare the sin of many, and made intercession for the transgressors.' His subsequent triumph in the Christian Church is here alluded to. This implies that His sufferings were of some duration; and is thus very appropriate to a lingering death like crucifixion. While the closing words exactly agree with His dying a shameful death between two robbers; yet praying for His murderers, 'Father, forgive them.' It seems hardly necessary to insist on the agreement shown above; it is indisputable. The sufferings and the triumph of the Lord's Servant are foretold with equal confidence and with equal clearness, though they might well have seemed incompatible. (2.) _The Doctrinal Agreement._ But the significance of the passage does not depend on these prophecies alone, though they are sufficiently remarkable, but on the _meaning_ which the writer assigns to the great tragedy. It is the Christian doctrine concerning Christ's death, and not merely the events attending it, which is here insisted on. This will be best shown by adopting the previous method of parallel columns, showing in the first the six chief points in the Christian doctrine, and in the other the prophet's words corresponding to them. All mankind are sinners. 'All we like sheep have gone astray.' Christ alone was sinless. 'My righteous servant.' 'He had done no violence, neither was any deceit in his mouth.' He suffered not for His own sins, but for those of others. Nor was this the mere accidental suffering of an innocent man for a guilty one; it was a great work of _atonement_, an offering for sin. This is the central feature of the Christian doctrine, and it is asserted over and over again in the prophecy, which is above all that of a _Saviour_. 'Surely he hath borne our griefs, and carried our sorrows.' 'He was wounded for our transgressions, he was bruised for our iniquities; the chastisement of (_i.e._, which procured) our peace was upon him; and with his stripes we are healed.' 'The Lord hath laid on him the iniquity of us all.' 'For the transgression of my people was he stricken.' 'Thou shalt make his soul an offering for sin.' 'He shall bear their iniquities.' 'He bare the sin of many.' And this Atonement was the fulfilment of the old Jewish sacrifices; especially that of the Paschal Lamb; so there was a special fitness in Christ's being put to death at the time of the Passover. This is shown by the language employed, the _offering for sin_ being the same word as that used for the old _guilt-offering_.[373] And the curious expression _So shall he sprinkle many nations_ evidently refers to the sprinkling of the blood in the Jewish sacrifices, as the same word is used, and means cleansing them from sin.[374] Yet it availed not only for the Jews, but for all mankind. The _many nations_ must include Gentiles as well as Jews. Lastly, Christ's sacrifice was _voluntary_; He freely laid down 'He poured out his soul unto death,' implies that the act was [Footnote 373: _E.g._, Lev. 7. 1.] [Footnote 374: _E.g._, Lev. 16. 19.] His life, no one took it from Him (John 10. 18). _voluntary_, and this is rendered still clearer from the context; for it was _because_ He did this that He was to divide the spoil, etc. And the words _He humbled Himself_, also imply that the humiliation was voluntary. All this, it is plain, exactly suits the Christ in whom Christians believe; and it does not and cannot suit anyone else, since several of the Christian doctrines are quite unique, and do not occur in the Jewish or any other religion. This is indeed so striking, that if anyone acquainted with Christianity, but unacquainted with Isaiah, came across the passage for the first time, he would probably refer it to one of St. Paul's Epistles. And every word of it might be found there with perfect fitness. (3.) _The modern Jewish interpretation._ Now, what can be said on the other side? Many of the ancient Jews interpreted the passage as referring to their future Messiah;[375] but the modern Jews (and most critics who disbelieve in prophecy) refer it to the Jewish nation, or to the religious part of it, which they say is here personified as a single man, the Servant of the Lord. And it must of course be admitted that Isaiah does frequently speak of the Jews as God's _servant_ (_e.g._, 'But thou Israel, my servant, and Jacob whom I have chosen,')[376] though he nowhere else uses the term 'my _righteous_ servant,' which he does here, and which would have been inapplicable to the nation. [Footnote 375: References are given in Edersheim's 'Life and Times of Jesus the Messiah,' 1901, vol. ii., p. 727.] [Footnote 376: Isa. 41. 8.] But it is important to remember that this prophecy does not stand alone, and a little before, we read in a similar passage, 'It is too light a thing that thou shouldest be my servant to raise up the tribes of Jacob, and to restore the preserved of Israel: I will also give thee for a light to the Gentiles, that thou mayest be my salvation unto the end of the earth. Thus saith the Lord, the Redeemer of Israel, and his Holy One, to him whom man despiseth, to him whom the nation abhorreth, to a servant of rulers: Kings shall see and arise; princes, and they shall worship.'[377] [Footnote 377: Isa. 49. 6-7; comp. 42. 1-6.] Here it will be noticed the Lord's _servant_ is clearly distinguished from both Jacob and Israel, and evidently means the Messiah. While His bringing salvation to the Gentiles, as well as to the Jews; His humiliation in being despised by men and hated by the Jewish nation; and His subsequent triumph, even Kings submitting themselves to Him; are all alluded to, much as they are in the present passage. No doubt there is a difficulty in the prophet thus passing from one meaning of the word _servant_ to another (especially, in a closely connected passage),[378] and various attempts have been made to explain it; but it does not alter the fact that he does so. Perhaps the best explanation is that Israel was _intended_ to be God's Servant, but owing to their sins became unfitted; when God promised in the future to raise up a _righteous_ servant, who should do all His pleasure and atone for Israel's failure. And, it may be added, the term _Servant_ is applied to the Messiah both by Ezekiel and Zechariah, as well as in the New Testament.[379] [Footnote 378: Isa. 49. 3, 5.] [Footnote 379: Ezek. 34. 23; Zech. 3. 8; Acts 3. 13 (R.V.).] Moreover, the Jewish interpretation not only leaves all the details of the prophecy unexplained and inexplicable, but ignores its very essence, which, as before said, is the atoning character of the sufferings. No one can say that the sufferings of the Jews were voluntary, or that they were not for their own sins, but for those of other people, which were in consequence atoned for. Or, to put the argument in other words, if the _He_ refers to the Jewish nation, to whom does the _our_ refer in such sentences as _He was wounded for our transgressions_? While v. 8 expressly says that the Jews (God's people) were not the sufferers, but those for whom He suffered. (For the transgression of _my people_ was _he_ stricken.) This interpretation then is hopelessly untenable, and the passage either means what Christians assert, or it means nothing. In conclusion, it must be again pointed out that all these minute historical details attending Christ's death, and all these remarkable Christian doctrines concerning it, are all found within fifteen verses of a writing many centuries older than the time of Christ. It would be hard to over-estimate the great improbability of all this being due to chance; indeed, such a conclusion seems incredible. (_B._) THE PSALM OF THE CRUCIFIXION (Ps. 22).[380] [Footnote 380: This is discussed more fully in an article in the _Churchman_, April, 1912, by the present writer.] We pass on now to another most remarkable prophecy; for this well-known Psalm describes what can only be regarded as a _crucifixion_. The decisive verse is of course, _They pierced my hands and my feet_; but even apart from this, the various sufferings described cannot all be endured in any other form of death, such as stoning or beheading. And the Psalm agrees with the Death of Christ, both in its numerous details, and in its whole scope and meaning. We will therefore consider this close agreement first, and then some of the objections. (1.) _Its close agreement._ We need not quote the Psalm, as it is so well known; but will point out the agreement verse by verse. Ver. 1. His feeling forsaken by God, and using these actual words: 'My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?' 2. as well as praying for deliverance during the previous night; 3. though in spite of His sufferings, He casts no reproach upon God. 4. His belonging to God's chosen people, the Jews, so that He could speak of _our_ fathers; 5. who had so often been helped by God before. 6. His pitiable condition in being exposed to the scorn and reproach of men, and despised by the people. 7. His being lifted up to die in public, so that those who passed by could see Him; and the way in which they mocked Him, shaking their heads, etc. 8. The exact words they used: _He trusted on the Lord that He would deliver him, let Him deliver him seeing He delighteth in him_ (margin). These words show that the speakers themselves were Jews, and that He was thus put to death among His own nation. And the last clause can only be meant ironically in the sense that the Sufferer _claimed_ that God delighted in him, claimed, that is, in some special sense to be beloved by God. 9. And, as a matter of fact, God had always watched over Him, and had saved Him in His infancy from being slain by Herod. 10. And in return His whole life had been dedicated to God; so that He could say that God had been _His_ God, even from His birth. 11. His being abandoned by His disciples, and left without a helper; 12. though surrounded by His enemies, described as _bulls of Bashan_. This curious term is used elsewhere for the unjust rulers of the people,[381] and was therefore very applicable to the chief priests and rulers, who had so unjustly condemned Him, and now stood round the Cross reviling Him. [Footnote 381: Amos. 4. 1.] 13. And they continually insulted Him, _gaping with the mouth_ being a common expression of contempt;[382] _ravening_ appropriate to the way in which they had thirsted for His blood before Pilate; and _roaring_ to the great noise and tumult made at the time. [Footnote 382: _E.g._, Job 16. 10.] 14. His side being pierced, so that there poured out a quantity of watery fluid (mixed with clots of blood), the probable cause of this--the rupture of the heart[383]--being also hinted at; while His bones were nearly out of joint, through the weight of the suspended Body. [Footnote 383: See 'The Physical Cause of the Death of Christ,' by Dr. Symes Thompson, 1904.] 15. His suffering extreme weakness, and extreme thirst, immediately before His death.[384] [Footnote 384: Lam. 4. 4; John 19. 28-30.] 16. His being crucified (_i.e._, His hands and feet being pierced), the men who did this being here called _dogs_. They seem to have been a special set of men, different from the Jews who had before been mocking Him. And as this was the very term used by Christ Himself for the Gentiles, in distinction to the Jews,[385] it was peculiarly appropriate to the Gentile (Roman) soldiers who crucified Him. [Footnote 385: Matt. 15. 26.] 17. And they also exposed and stretched out His Body, so that the bones stood out in relief. And they then stood watching Him; 18. and divided His garments among them, casting lots for one of them. 19. Then follows a short prayer. 20. The term _sword_, like the _dog_, the _lion's mouth_, and the _wild oxen_, need not be pressed literally; but may be used here (as in other places)[386] for any violent death. And in the New Testament it seems employed for all punishments, including probably a death by crucifixion (St. Peter's).[387] [Footnote 386: _Comp._ 2 Sam. 11. 24; 12. 9.] [Footnote 387: Rom. 13. 4; Matt. 26. 52.] 21. Yet in spite of His troubles, and even death, He feels sure of deliverance. 22. And now the strain suddenly changes, the Sufferer is restored to life and freedom and at once declares God's name unto His brethren. And this exactly agrees with Christ's now declaring for the first time God's complete _Name_ of, Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, unto His _brethren_, as He calls them, the Apostles.[388] While if we identify this appearance with that to the five hundred, it was literally _in the midst of the congregation_--in the presence, that is, of the first large Christian assembly. [Footnote 388: Matt. 28. 10, 19.] 23. Moreover, His deliverance is of world-wide significance, and great blessings are to follow from it. These commence with the Jews, who were to _praise_ and glorify God; though with a strange feeling of _awe_ and fear; all of which was exactly fulfilled.[389] [Footnote 389: Acts 2. 43-47.] 24. And the blessings are somehow connected with God's not having despised, but having accepted, His sufferings. 25. And they include a reference to some _vows_ (meaning uncertain); 26. and to a wonderful feast generally thought to refer to the Holy Communion. 27. And the blessings then extend to the Gentile nations also, even to the most distant parts of the world, who are now to become worshippers of the true God, Jehovah. And, as a matter of fact, Christians exist in all known countries, and wherever there are Christians, Jehovah is worshipped. 28. To Whom the whole earth, both the Jewish kingdom and the Gentile nations, really belongs. 29. And to Whom everyone will eventually bow down. 30. After this we read of a _seed_ serving Him, probably used here, as in Isaiah, for disciples, each generation of whom is to tell of this wonderful deliverance to the next. And this they have been doing for eighteen centuries. 31. And so they will continue doing to generations that are yet unborn. While the closing words, _He hath done it_ (R.V.) are often taken as referring to the whole Psalm, meaning that the work of suffering and atonement was now complete, _It is done_;[390] and they would thus correspond to Christ's closing words on the Cross, _It it finished_. [Footnote 390: Hengstenberg, Commentary on Psalms, 1867, vol. i., 396.] Everyone must admit that the agreement all through is very remarkable; though there are two slight objections. (2.) _Two objections._ The first is that there is nothing to show that the writer meant the Psalm to refer to the Messiah at all, though, strange to say, some of the Jews so interpreted it;[391] therefore if there is an agreement, it is at most only a chance coincidence. But the idea of _all_ these coincidences being due to chance is most improbable. And there certainly is some indication that it refers to the Messiah, since, as we have seen, it leads up to the conversion of the Gentiles, which the other Jewish prophets always associate with the times of the Messiah. [Footnote 391: Edersheim, 1901, vol. ii., 713.] Moreover, if the Psalm does not refer to Christ, it is difficult to see to whom it does refer, since it is quite inapplicable to David, or Hezekiah, or anyone else at that time; as crucifixion was not a Jewish punishment, though dead bodies were sometimes hung on trees. Yet, as just said, verses 7-8 show that the Sufferer was put to death among his own nation. This strange anomaly of a Jew being put to death among Jews, though not in the Jewish manner by stoning, but by crucifixion, exactly suits the time of Christ, when Judæa was a Roman province, and crucifixion a Roman punishment. Many of the _details_ also are quite inapplicable. David, for instance, never had his garments divided among his enemies; yet (even apart from our Gospels) there can be little doubt that the garments of Christ were so divided, as the clothes of a prisoner were usually taken by the guard who executed him. And any such reference (to David, etc.) is rendered still more improbable, because the sufferer appears to have no sense of _sin_, and never laments his own wickedness, as the writers so frequently do when speaking about themselves. And here also the Psalm is entirely applicable to Christ, since (as we shall see in the next chapter) His sinlessness was a striking feature in His character. Nor again did the deliverance of David in any way lead to the _conversion of the Gentiles_, which, as just said, is the grand climax of the Psalm, and excludes all other interpretations. But in any case this objection (which is also made to other Old Testament prophecies) cannot be maintained; for _who_, we must ask, was their real author? Was it the human prophet, or was it God Who inspired the prophet to write as he did? And the prophets themselves emphatically declared that it was the latter. The word of the Lord came unto them, or a vision was granted unto them, and they had to proclaim it, whether they liked it or not. In fact, as St. Matthew says, it was not really the prophet who spoke, but God, who spoke _through the prophet_.[392] There is thus no reason for thinking that they either knew, or thought they knew, the whole meaning of their prophecies; and the objection may be dismissed at once. [Footnote 392: _E.g._, Matt. 1. 22.] The second objection is, that some of the events fulfilling this, and other Old Testament prophecies, never occurred, but were purposely invented. This, however, destroys altogether the moral character of the Evangelists, who are supposed to tell deliberate falsehoods, in order to get a pretended fulfilment of an old prophecy. And the difficulty of admitting this is very great. Moreover, such explanations can only apply to a very few cases; since, as a rule, the events occurred in _public_, and must therefore have been well known at the time. And even in those cases where the event was so trivial, that it might possibly have been invented, such an explanation is often untenable. Take, for example, the manner in which Christ on the cross was mocked by His enemies, who said, 'He trusted in God, let him deliver him now if he desireth him.'[393] A more probable incident under the circumstances can scarcely be imagined, the chief priests quoting the familiar language (just as men sometimes quote the Bible now) without thinking of its real significance. But, supposing the words were never uttered, is it conceivable that the Evangelist (or anyone else) would have invented them in order to get a pretended fulfilment of this Psalm, where the Crucified One is mocked with almost identical words; yet have never pointed out the fulfilment himself, but have trusted to the chance of his readers discovering it? [Footnote 393: Matt. 27. 43.] Neither of these objections, then, is of much importance; while the agreement of the Psalm with the events attending the death and Resurrection of Christ, seems, as in the previous case, to be far too exact to be accidental. (_C._) THE DIVINITY OF THE MESSIAH. Our last example shall be of a different kind from the others. It is that the Old Testament contains several passages which show that the future Messiah was to be not only Superhuman, but Divine. And considering the strong Monotheism of the Jews this is very remarkable. The following are three of the most important:-- 'For unto us a child is born, unto us a son is given; and the government shall be upon his shoulder: and his name shall be called Wonderful, Counsellor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.'[394] Here we have a plain statement of the Divinity of One Who should be born a child. The two words translated _Mighty God_ are incapable of any other translation, and no other is suggested for them in the margin of either the Authorised or Revised Version; while the same two words occur in the next chapter, where they plainly mean _Mighty God_ and nothing else. Moreover, the term _Everlasting Father_ is literally _Father of Eternity_ (see margin) and means the Eternal One. This is another divine title, and does not conflict with the Christian doctrine that it was the Son, and not the Father, Who became Incarnate. While the following words, that of the increase of His government _there shall be no end_, and that it should be established _for ever_, also point to a Divine Ruler, in spite of the reference to David's throne. And it is significant that a few verses before it is implied that the Ministry of this future Messiah should commence in the land of Zebulon, and Naphtali, by the Sea of Galilee; where, as a matter of fact, Christ's Ministry did commence. [Footnote 394: Isa. 9. 6; 10. 21; 9. 1-2.] 'But thou, Bethlehem Ephrathah, which art little to be among the thousands of Judah, out of thee shall one come forth unto me that is to be ruler in Israel; whose goings forth are from of old, from everlasting.'[395] Here we have a prophecy of the birth of One who had existed _from everlasting_; thus showing the Pre-existence and apparent Divinity of the Messiah, who was to be born at Bethlehem, where, again, as a matter of fact, Christ actually was born. [Footnote 395: Mic. 5. 2.] 'Awake, O sword, against my shepherd, and against the man that is my fellow, saith the Lord of hosts.'[396] The word translated _fellow_ is only found elsewhere in Leviticus, where it is usually translated _neighbour_, and always implies an equality between the two persons.[397] Thus God speaks of the Shepherd who was to be slain with the sword (a term, as before said, used for any violent death), as equal with Himself, and yet at the same time Man; so no one but a Messiah who is both God and Man--_Fellow-God_ as well as _fellow-man_--can satisfy the language. [Footnote 396: Zech. 13. 7.] [Footnote 397: Lev. 6. 2; 18. 20; 19. 11, 15, 17; 24. 19; 25. 14, 15, 17.] And here again the reference to Christ is confirmed by the fact that several incidents in His Passion are alluded to, in some of which His Divinity is likewise asserted. The most important are the way in which He (the Just Saviour) rode into Jerusalem on an ass; and the rejoicing with which He was received, when the people welcomed Him as their _King_. And the fact that He (the Lord Jehovah) should be sold for thirty pieces of silver, the money being cast down in the House of the Lord, and afterwards given to the potter; and also that He (again the Lord Jehovah) should be pierced.[398] These are, it is true, expressed in figurative language, and often mixed up with other subjects; so no instance by itself, affords a strong argument. But still their all occurring so close together, and all leading up to the violent death of a _man_, who was yet the _fellow_, or _equal_, with God, can scarcely be accidental. While the prophecy, like so many others, ends with the conversion of the Gentiles, the Lord Jehovah being recognised as King over all the earth; which seems to place the Messianic character beyond dispute. [Footnote 398: Zech. 9. 9; 11. 12-13; 12. 10; 14. 9; Luke 19. 37-38.] The Divinity of the Messiah is also involved in some hints which occur in the Old Testament as to the doctrine of the _Trinity_. For instance, the Hebrew word for God, _Elohim_, is a plural word, though, strange to say, it generally takes a singular adjective, and verb. Thus if we tried to represent it in English, the first verse of the Bible would read, 'In the beginning the Gods, He created the heaven and the earth.' Attempts have of course been made to reduce the significance of this by pointing out that a few other Hebrew words, such as _lord_ and _master_, sometimes do the same; or by regarding it as a survival from some previous polytheistic religion; or else as being what is called the plural of Majesty, a sort of royal _We_. This, however, does not seem to have been in use in early times, and never occurs in the Bible, where kings always speak of themselves in the singular.[399] Anyhow it is very remarkable that the Jews should have used a plural word for God with a singular verb; especially as the same word, when used of false gods, takes a plural verb. [Footnote 399: _E.g._, Gen. 41. 41; Ezra 6. 12; 7. 21; Dan. 4. 6.] Moreover, God is at times represented as speaking in the plural,[400] saying, for instance, _Let us make man in our image_, as if consulting with other Divine Persons; since it is obvious that the expression cannot refer to angels, who are themselves created, and not fellow Creators. Yet just afterwards we read, 'God created man in _his_ own image,' thus implying that there is still but one God. Another and even more remarkable expression is, _Behold, the man is become as one of us_. This cannot possibly be the plural of Majesty; for though a king might speak of himself as _We_ or _Us_, no king ever spoke of himself as _one of Us_. Such an expression can only be used when there are other persons of similar rank with the speaker; therefore when used by God, it shows conclusively that there are other Divine Persons. So again when God says, 'Whom shall _I_ send, and who will go for _us_?' it implies that He is both one, and more than one; which the previous _thrice_ Holy, points to as being a Trinity.[401] The existence of such passages seems to require some explanation, and Christianity alone can explain them. [Footnote 400: Gen. 1. 26; 3. 22; 11. 7.] [Footnote 401: Isa. 6. 8.] (_D._) CONCLUSION. Before concluding this chapter there is still one objection to be considered. Why, it is said, if these prophecies really refer to Christ, are they not plainer? Surely if God wished to foretell the future, He would have done it better than this: and a few words added here and there would have made the reference to Christ indisputable. No doubt they would; but possibly God did not wish to make the reference indisputable. Moreover, if the prophecies had been plainer, they might have prevented their own fulfilment. Had the Jews known for certain that Christ was their Messiah, they could scarcely have crucified Him; and it seems to many that the prophecies are already about as plain as they could be without doing this. The important point, however, is not whether the prophecies might not have been plainer, but whether they are not already too plain to be accidental. Lastly, we must notice the cumulative nature of the evidence. We have only examined a few instances, but, as said before, Messianic prophecies of some kind more or less distinct, occur at intervals all through the Old Testament. And though some of those commonly brought forward seem weak and fanciful, there are numbers of others which are not. And here, as elsewhere, this has a double bearing on the argument. In the first place, it does not at all increase the difficulty of the _Christian_ interpretation; for twenty prophecies are practically no more difficult to admit than two. Indeed, the fact that instead of being a few isolated examples, they form a complete series, rather lessens the difficulty than otherwise. On the other hand, it greatly increases the difficulty of _any other_ interpretation; for twenty prophecies are far more difficult to deny than two. If one is explained as a lucky coincidence, it will not account for the next; if that is got rid of by some unnatural interpretation of the words, it will not account for the third, and so on indefinitely. The difficulties are thus not only great in themselves, but are all cumulative; and hence together they seem insuperable. Anyhow, it is clear that these Prophecies form another strong argument in favour of Christianity. CHAPTER XXI. THAT THE CHARACTER OF CHRIST CONFIRMS THE TRUTH OF CHRISTIANITY. The character of Christ can only be deduced from the New Testament, any other Christ being purely imaginary. (_A._) THE TEACHING OF CHRIST. (1.) Its admitted excellence. (2.) Two objections. (3.) His sinlessness. (_B._) THE CLAIMS OF CHRIST. (1.) His claim to be Superhuman--declaring that He was the Ruler, Redeemer, and final Judge of the world. (2.) His claim to be Divine--declaring His Equality, Unity, and Pre-existence with God. (3.) How these claims were understood at the time, both by friends and foes. (_C._) THE GREAT ALTERNATIVE. Christ cannot, therefore, have been merely a good man; He was either _God_, as He claimed to be, or else a _bad_ man, for making such claims. But the latter view is disproved by His Moral Character. In this chapter we propose to consider the Character of Christ, and its bearing on the truth of Christianity. Now our knowledge of Christ's character can only be derived from the four Gospels; indeed, a Christ with any other character assigned to Him is a purely imaginary being, and might as well be called by some other name. Taking, then, the Gospels as our guide, what is the character of Christ? Clearly this can be best deduced from His own _teaching_ and _claims_, both of which are fortunately given at some length; so we will consider these first, and then the _great alternative_ which they force upon us. (_A._) THE TEACHING OF CHRIST. Under this head, we will first notice the admitted excellence of Christ's teaching, then some objections which are often made, and lastly His sinlessness. (1.) _Its admitted excellence._ To begin with, the excellence of Christ's moral teaching hardly needs to be insisted on at the present day, and rationalists as well as Christians have proclaimed its merits. For instance, to quote a few examples:-- 'Religion cannot be said to have made a bad choice in pitching on this man as the ideal representative and guide of humanity; nor even now would it be easy, even for an unbeliever, to find a better translation of the rule of virtue from the abstract into the concrete, than to endeavour so to live that Christ should approve our life.'--_J. S. Mill_.[402] [Footnote 402: Nature, the Utility of Religion and Theism, 2nd edit., 1874, p. 255.] 'Jesus remains to humanity an inexhaustible source of moral regenerations.' And again, 'In Him is condensed all that is good and lofty in our nature.'--_E. Renan_.[403] [Footnote 403: Life of Jesus, translated by Wilbour, New York, 1864, pp. 370, 375.] 'It was reserved for Christianity to present to the world an ideal character, which, through all the changes of eighteen centuries, has inspired the hearts of men with an impassioned love; has shown itself capable of acting on all ages, nations, temperaments, and conditions; has been not only the highest pattern of virtue, but the strongest incentive to its practice; and has exercised so deep an influence that it may be truly said that the simple record of three short years of active life has done more to regenerate and to soften mankind than all the disquisitions of philosophers, and all the exhortations of moralists.'--_W. E. H. Lecky_.[404] [Footnote 404: History of European Morals, 3rd edit., 1877, vol. ii., p. 8.] These quotations are only examples of many which might be given; but it is practically undisputed that the morality taught by Christ is the best the world has ever seen. It is also undisputed that His life was in entire harmony with His teaching. He lived, as far as we can judge, a holy and blameless life, and His character has never been surpassed either in history or fiction. (2.) _Two objections._ There are, however, two slight objections. The first is that Christ's teaching was not _original_; and, strictly speaking, this is perhaps true. Something similar to all He taught has been discovered in more ancient times, either in Egypt, India, China, or elsewhere. But this hardly affects the argument. An unlearned Jew living at Nazareth cannot be supposed to have derived his teaching from these sources; and it is a great improvement on all of them put together. The important point is, that there was nothing among the Jews of His own time which could have produced, or even have invented, such a character. He was immeasurably better than His contemporaries, and all of them put together have not exerted an influence on the world a thousandth part that of Christ. The second objection refers to _certain portions_ of Christ's teaching. For example, He urges men not to resist evil, and seems to place virginity above marriage to an exaggerated extent.[405] I have never seen a satisfactory explanation of the latter passage; but it is obvious on the face of it that it cannot be meant for universal application, or it would lead to the extinction of the human race. [Footnote 405: Matt. 5. 39; 19. 12.] Again, several of the _parables_ are said to be unjust such as that of the workmen in the vineyard, the unrighteous steward, and the wedding garment. But parables must not be pressed literally, and very different interpretations have been put on these. However, we will consider the two last, which are those most often objected to. With regard to the _Unrighteous Steward_, though apparently he had been guilty of dishonesty, we are told that his lord _commended_ him, because he had done wisely.[406] But no one can think that his lord commended him, because he had just cheated him. So if his conduct was really dishonest (about which scholars are by no means agreed) we can only suppose that _in spite of this_, his lord commended him, because of his wisdom. In the same way, if an ingenious robbery were committed at the present day, even the man robbed, might say that he could not help admiring the scoundrel for his cleverness. The meaning then appears to be that _wisdom_ is so desirable that it is to be commended even in worldly matters, and even in a bad cause; and therefore of course still more to be aimed at in religious matters, and in a good cause. [Footnote 406: Luke 16. 8.] Next as to the _Wedding Garment_. It is distinctly implied that there was only _one_ man without it,[407] so obviously the first point to determine is how the other men got their garments. They could not have had them out in the roads, and there was no time to go home and get them, even if they possessed any. It follows then that they must each have been provided with a suitable garment (probably a cloak, worn over their other clothes) when they reached the palace. This appears to have been an eastern custom,[408] and if one of them refused to put it on, he would certainly deserve to be excluded from the feast. Thus the object of the parable seems to be to show that God's blessings can only be obtained on God's terms (_e.g._ _forgiveness_ on _repentance_), though there is no hardship in this, as He has Himself given us grace to comply with these terms, if we like. Neither of these objections, then, is of much importance. [Footnote 407: Matt. 22. 11.] [Footnote 408: Archb. Trench, Notes on the Parables, 1870, p. 234.] (3.) _His sinlessness._ A most remarkable point has now to be noticed. It is that, notwithstanding His perfect moral teaching, there is not in the character of Christ the slightest consciousness of _sin_. In all His numerous discourses, and even in His prayers, there is not a single word which implies that He thought He ever had done, or ever could do, anything wrong Himself. He is indeed most careful to avoid implying this, even incidentally. Thus He does not tell His disciples, 'If _we_ forgive men their trespasses,' etc., but 'If _ye_,' as the former might imply that He, as well as they, had need of the Father's forgiveness.[409] Nor did He ever regret anything that He had done, or ever wish that He had acted otherwise. And though He blamed self-righteousness in others, and urged them to repentance, He never hinted that He had any need of it Himself; in fact, He expressly denied it, for He said that He _always_ did those things that were pleasing to God.[410] [Footnote 409: Matt. 6. 14.] [Footnote 410: John 8. 29.] And this is the more striking when we reflect that good men are, as a rule, most conscious of their faults. Yet here was One who carried moral goodness to its utmost limit, whose precepts are admittedly perfect, but who never for a moment thought that He was not fulfilling them Himself. Such a character is absolutely unique in the world's history. It can only be explained by saying that Christ was not merely a good man, but a _perfect_ man, since goodness without perfection would only have made Him more conscious of the faults He had. Yet if we admit this, we must admit more; for perfection is not a human attribute, and a _sinless life_ needs a good deal to account for it. (_B._) THE CLAIMS OF CHRIST. We pass on now to the _claims_ of Christ; and His high moral character would plainly lead us to place the utmost confidence in what He said about Himself. And as we shall see He claimed to be both _Superhuman_ and _Divine_; and this is how all His contemporaries, both friends and foes, understood Him. And though it is impossible to add to the marvel of such claims, yet the fact that nothing in any way resembling them is to be found among the Jewish Prophets helps us, at least, to realise their uniqueness. Many of them are spoken concerning the _Son of Man_; but there can be no doubt whatever that by this title Christ means Himself.[411] [Footnote 411: _E.g._, Matt. 16. 13, 16.] (1.) _His Claim to be Superhuman._ This is shown by three main arguments, for Christ declared that He was the Ruler, Redeemer, and final Judge of the world. In the first place, He claimed to be the _Ruler_ of the world, saying in so many words that all things had been delivered unto Him, and that He possessed all authority, both in heaven and on earth.[412] Moreover, His dominion was to be not only universal, but it was to last for ever; since after this world had come to an end, the future Kingdom of Heaven was still to be _His_ Kingdom, its angels were to be _His_ angels, and its citizens _His_ elect.[413] [Footnote 412: Matt. 11. 27; 28. 18; Luke 10. 22.] [Footnote 413: Matt. 13. 41; 24. 31.] Secondly, Christ claimed to be the _Redeemer_ of the world. He distinctly asserted that He came to give His life a ransom for many, and that His blood was shed for the remission of sins. And the importance He attached to this is shown by the fact that He instituted a special rite (the Holy Communion) on purpose to commemorate it.[414] [Footnote 414: Matt. 20. 28; 26. 28; Mark 10. 45; 14. 24; Luke 22. 19.] Thirdly, Christ claimed to be the final _Judge_ of the world. This tremendous claim alone shows that He considered Himself quite above and distinct from the rest of mankind. While they were all to be judged according to their works, He was to be the Judge Himself, coming in the clouds of heaven with thousands of angels. And His decision was to be final and without appeal. Moreover, this astonishing claim does not depend on single texts or passages, but occurs all through the first three Gospels.[415] During the whole of His Ministry--from His Sermon on the Mount to His trial before Caiaphas--He persistently asserted that He was to be the final Judge of the world. It is hardly credible that a mere man, however presumptuous, should ever have made such a claim as this. Can we imagine anyone doing so at the present day? and what should we think of him if he did? [Footnote 415: Matt. 7. 22; 10. 32; 13. 41; 16. 27; 19. 28; 24. 30; 25. 31-46; 26. 64; and similar passages in the other Gospels.] (2.) _His Claim to be Divine._ Like the preceding, this is shown by three main arguments; for Christ declared His Equality, Unity, and Pre-existence with God. In the first place, Christ claimed _Equality_ with God. He said that the same honour should be given to Himself as to God the Father; that men should believe in Him as well as in God; that He and the Father would together dwell in the souls of men; and that He, like the Father, had the power of sending the Holy Spirit of God.[416] He also commanded men to be baptized into His Name as well as into that of the Father; and promised that whenever and wherever His disciples were gathered together, He would be in the midst of them, even unto the end of the world, which, cannot be true of anyone but God.[417] [Footnote 416: John 5. 23; 14. 1, 23; 16. 7.] [Footnote 417: Matt. 18. 20; 28. 19, 20.] Secondly, Christ claimed _Unity_ with God. He did not say that He was another God, but that He and the Father were _One_; that He was in the Father, and the Father in Him; that whoever beheld Him beheld the Father; that whoever had seen Him had seen the Father.[418] These latter texts cannot, of course, be pressed literally, as few would maintain that Christ was really God _the Father_. But just as if a human father and son were _extremely_ alike, we might say that if you had seen the son, you had seen the father; so if Christ was truly God--God the Son--the _very image_ of His Father,[419] the same language might be used. It would at least be intelligible. But it would be quite unintelligible, if Christ had been merely a _good man_. Can we imagine the best man that ever lived saying, If you have seen me, you have seen God? [Footnote 418: John 10. 30; 17. 21; 12. 45; 14. 9.] [Footnote 419: Heb. 1. 3.] Thirdly, Christ claimed _Pre-existence_ with God. He said that He had descended out of heaven; that He had come down from heaven; that He came out from the Father and was come into the world; and that even before its creation He had shared God's glory.[420] While in another passage, '_Before Abraham was, I am_,'[421] He not only said that He existed before Abraham, but by using the words _I am_ instead of _I was_, He seemed to identify Himself with Jehovah, the great _I am_, of the Old Testament.[422] [Footnote 420: John 3. 13; 6. 38; 16. 28; 17. 5.] [Footnote 421: John 8. 58.] [Footnote 422: Exod. 3. 14.] Turning now to the other side, there are four passages in which Christ seems to _disclaim_ being Divine. The most important is where He says that the Son (_i.e._ Himself) does not know the time of the future Judgment;[423] and the present writer has never seen a really satisfactory explanation of this. But it may be pointed out that if we admit that Christ was both Divine and human, it is only fair to refer any particular statement to that nature, to which it is applicable; even though the wording seems to suggest the opposite. In the same way, the passage, that the _Lord of Glory_ was crucified[424] can only refer to Christ in His _human_ nature, and not in His Divine nature, as the Lord of Glory. And in His human nature Christ may have been ignorant of the time of the future Judgment, just as in His human nature He increased in wisdom and stature.[425] [Footnote 423: Mark 13. 32.] [Footnote 424: 1 Cor. 2. 8.] [Footnote 425: Luke 2. 52.] Then we have the passage where a ruler addresses Christ as '_Good_ Master,' and Christ demurs to this, saying that the word was only applicable to God.[426] And how, it is asked, could He have done so, if He had been both good and God? The best explanation seems to be that among the Jews, it was the custom never to address a Teacher (or Rabbi) as _Good_. They said God was 'the _Good One_ of the world'; it was one of _His_ titles.[427] Therefore as the ruler had no means of knowing that Christ was God, he was not justified in thus addressing Him as _Good_. [Footnote 426: Mark 10. 18.] [Footnote 427: Edersheim's Life and Times of the Messiah, vol. ii., p. 339.] The remaining two passages, 'I go unto the Father; for the Father is greater than I'; and 'I ascend unto my Father and your Father, and my God and your God,'[428] are easier to explain, since here it is obvious that they refer to Christ's _human_ nature alone, as it was in His human nature alone that He was ever absent from the Father. And even here He carefully distinguishes His own relationship to God from that of His disciples. For though He teaches them to say _our Father_, yet when including Himself with them, He does not here or anywhere else say _our_ Father, or _our_ God; but always emphasises His own peculiar position. While we may ask in regard to the first passage, would anyone but God have thought it necessary to explain that God the Father was greater than Himself? Anyhow, these passages do not alter the fact that Christ did repeatedly claim to be both superhuman and Divine. [Footnote 428: John 14. 28; 20. 17.] (3.) _How these Claims were understood at the time._ We have now to consider how these claims were understood at the time. And first, as to _Christ's friends_. We have overwhelming evidence that after His Resurrection all the disciples and early Christians believed their Master to be both superhuman and Divine. And to realise the full significance of this, we must remember that they were not polytheists, who did not mind how many gods they believed in, and were willing to worship Roman Emperors or anyone else; but they were strict monotheists. They firmly believed that there was only one God, yet they firmly believed that Christ was Divine. This is shown throughout the New Testament. Thus the writers of the _first three Gospels_, though they usually record the events of Christ's life without comment, yet in one passage identify Him with the God of the Old Testament, referring the prophecy about the messenger of the _Lord our God_ to the messenger of _Christ_.[429] And as to the _Fourth Gospel_, it begins with asserting Christ's Divinity in the plainest terms, saying that _the Word_, who afterwards became flesh, _was God_. And it appropriately ended, before the last chapter was added, with St. Thomas declaring this same belief, when he addressed Christ as _my Lord and my God_, which titles He fully accepted.[430] Yet immediately afterwards, the author says he wrote his Gospel to convince men that Jesus was the Christ, the Son of God. Evidently then this expression, _the Son of God_, meant to him, and therefore presumably to other New Testament writers, who use it frequently, that Christ was truly God--God the Son--_my Lord and my God_--in the fullest and most complete sense. [Footnote 429: Isa. 40. 3; Matt. 3. 3; Mark 1. 3; Luke 3. 4.] [Footnote 430: John 1. 1; 20. 28.] With regard to the _Acts_ an argument on the other side is sometimes drawn from St. Peter's speaking of Christ as 'a _man_ approved of God unto you by mighty works,' thus implying, it is urged, that St. Peter did not know Him to be more than man.[431] But since he says he was only appealing to what his _hearers_ knew to be true (_even as ye yourselves know_), how else could he have put it? His hearers did not know that Christ was God; they did know that He was _a man approved of God_ by many wonderful miracles, because they had seen them. Moreover, in other places the Acts bear strong witness to the Divinity of Christ, as for instance when St. Paul speaks _of the Church of God which He purchased with His own blood_, or St. Stephen says _Lord Jesus receive my spirit_; or when the Apostles are represented as working their miracles, not in the name of God the Father, but in that of Christ.[432] [Footnote 431: Acts 2. 22.] [Footnote 432: Acts 20. 28; 7. 59; 3. 6; 4. 10.] Next, as to the Book of _Revelation_. The evidence this affords is important, because nearly all critics admit that it was written by St. John. And if so, it shows conclusively that one at least of Christ's intimate followers firmly believed in His Divinity. For he not only speaks of Him as being universally worshipped both in heaven and on earth, but describes Him as _the First and the Last_, which is a title used by God in the Old Testament, and is plainly inapplicable to anyone else.[433] And we may ask, is it conceivable that an intimate friend of Christ should have believed Him to be the Everlasting God, unless He had claimed to be so Himself, and had supported His claim by working miracles, and rising from the dead? Is it not, rather, certain that nothing but the most _overwhelming_ proof would ever have convinced a Jew (of all persons) that a fellow Man, with whom he had lived for years, and whom he had then seen put to death as a malefactor, was Himself the Lord Jehovah, _the First and the Last_? [Footnote 433: Rev. 5. 11-14; 1. 17, 18; 2. 8; 22. 13; Isa. 44. 6.] But it is urged on the other side, that the writer also calls Him _the beginning of the Creation of God_, as if He had been merely the first Being created.[434] But the previous passages clearly show that this was not his meaning. It was rather that Christ was the _beginning_ of creation, because He was its Source and Agent; He by whom, as the same writer declares, _all things were made_. And elsewhere a similar title is given Him for this identical reason, as He is called _the first-born of all creation_, because _all things have been created through Him_.[435] [Footnote 434: Rev. 3. 14;] [Footnote 435: John 1. 3; Col. 1. 15, 16.] Equally important evidence is afforded by _St. Paul's Epistles_. For though he is not likely to have known Christ intimately, he must have been acquainted with numbers who did, including, as he says, _James the Lord's brother_.[436] And his early conversion, before A.D. 35, together with the fact that he had previously persecuted the Church at Jerusalem, and afterwards visited some of the Apostles there, must have made him well acquainted with the Christian doctrines from the very first. Moreover he tells us himself that the faith which he taught was the same as that which he had previously persecuted; and that when he visited the Apostles he _laid before them_ the Gospel he preached, evidently to make sure that it agreed with what they preached.[437] [Footnote 436: Gal. 1. 19.] [Footnote 437: Gal. 1. 23; 2. 2.] There can thus be no doubt that the Christianity of St. Paul was the same as that of the Twelve. And all through his Epistles he bears witness to the _superhuman_ character of Christ; declaring, among other things, His sinlessness, and that He is the Ruler, Redeemer, and final Judge of the world.[438] [Footnote 438: 2 Cor. 5. 21; Rom. 14. 9; 1 Cor. 15. 3; 2 Cor. 5. 10.] He also bears witness to His _Divine_ character, saying in so many words that He is over all, God blessed for ever; that we shall all stand before the Judgment-seat of God, which elsewhere he calls the Judgment-seat of Christ; that He was originally in the form of God (_i.e._, in a state of Deity), and on an equality with God, before He became incarnate, and took the form of Man; that in Him dwells all the fullness of the Godhead bodily; that He is our great God and Saviour Jesus Christ, Who gave Himself for us; and that the Psalmist prophesied of Him when he said, 'Thy throne, O God, is for ever and ever.'[439] This last passage, from the _Hebrews_, was perhaps not written by St. Paul, but this makes it all the more valuable, as the Epistle is generally dated, from internal evidence, before the destruction of Jerusalem, A.D. 70; and we have thus _another_ early witness to the Divinity of Christ. [Footnote 439: Rom. 9. 5; 14. 10; 2 Cor. 5. 10; Phil. 2. 6; Col. 2. 9; Titus 2. 13; Heb. 1. 8.] The most important text on the other side is where St. Paul says there is _one God the Father_, and _one Lord Jesus Christ_,[440] which is quoted in the Nicene Creed. But though the statement is a difficult one, it cannot be pressed as implying that Christ is not _God_; for if so it would equally imply that the Father was not _Lord_, which few would contend was St. Paul's meaning. [Footnote 440: 1 Cor. 8. 6; _Comp._ Eph. 4. 4-6.] With regard to the above passages, it is important to notice that the allusions are all incidental. St. Paul does not attempt to prove the superhuman and Divine character of Christ, but refers to it as if it were undisputed. He evidently believed it himself, and took for granted that his readers did so too. And his readers included not only his own converts at Corinth and elsewhere, but the converts of other Apostles at Rome, which was a place he had not then visited, and a strong party of opponents in Galatia, with whom he was arguing. It is clear, then, that these doctrines were not peculiar to St. Paul, but were the common property of all Christians from the earliest times. And when combined with the previous evidence, this leaves no doubt as to how Christ's _friends_ understood His claims. Whatever they may have thought of them before the Resurrection, that event convinced them that they were true, and they never hesitated in this belief. Next as to _Christ's foes_. The evidence here is equally convincing. In St. John's Gospel we read that on several occasions during His life, when Christ asserted His superhuman and Divine character, the Jews wanted to kill Him in consequence; often avowing their reason for doing so with the utmost frankness. 'For a good work we stone thee not, but for blasphemy and because that thou, being a man, makest thyself God.'[441] And in thus doing they were only acting in accordance with their law, which commanded a blasphemer to be stoned.[442] [Footnote 441: John 10. 33; 5. 18; 8. 59; 11. 8.] [Footnote 442: Lev. 24. 16.] In none of these instances did Christ repudiate the claims attributed to Him, or say He had been misunderstood. In fact, only once did He offer any explanation at all. He then appealed to the passage in the Old Testament, 'I said, Ye are gods,'[443] and asserted that He was much better entitled to the term, since He was sent into the world by the Father, and did the works of the Father. After which He again asserted His unity with the Father, which was the very point objected to by the Jews. [Footnote 443: Ps. 82. 6.] Moreover, not only during His life did Christ make these claims to be Divine, but He persevered with them even when it brought about His death. It is undisputed that the Jews condemned Him for _blasphemy_, and for nothing else. This is the teaching not of one Gospel alone, but of each of the four.[444] Every biography of Christ that we possess represents this as the real charge against Him; though, of course, when tried before the Roman governor that of disloyalty to Cæsar was brought forward as well. [Footnote 444: Matt. 26. 65; Mark 14. 64; Luke 22. 71; John 19. 7.] There is only one conclusion to be drawn from all this. It is that Christ did really claim to be both superhuman and Divine; that He deliberately and repeatedly asserted these claims during His life; that this provoked the hostility of the Jews, who frequently wanted to kill Him; that He never repudiated these claims, but persevered with them to the end; and was finally put to death in consequence. (_C._) THE GREAT ALTERNATIVE. We pass on now to the _great alternative_, which is forced upon us by combining the teaching and the claims of Christ. Before pointing out its importance we must notice a favourite method of trying to get out of the difficulty, which is by saying that the teaching of Christ occurs in the _first three Gospels_, and the claims in the _Fourth_; so if we deny the accuracy of this single Gospel the difficulty is removed. But unfortunately for this objection, though the Divine claims occur chiefly in the Fourth Gospel, the superhuman ones are most prominent in the other three; and we have purposely chosen all the passages illustrating them from these Gospels _alone_. And what is more, they occur in all the supposed _sources_ of these Gospels--the so-called Triple Tradition, the source common to Matthew and Luke, etc. Everywhere from the earliest record to the latest, Christ is represented as claiming to be superhuman. And such claims are equally fatal to His moral character if He were only a man. For no good man, and indeed very few bad ones, could be so fearfully presumptuous as to claim to be the absolute Ruler of the world, still less to be its Redeemer, and, least of all, to be its one and only Judge hereafter. This objection, then, cannot be maintained, and we are forced to conclude that the perfect moral teaching of Christ was accompanied by continual assertions of His own superhuman and Divine character. And as this was a point about which He must have known, it is clear that the statements must have been either true or intentionally false. He must, therefore, have been Divine, or else a deliberate impostor. In other words, the Christ of the Gospels--and history knows of no other--could not have been merely a good man. He was either _God_ as He claimed to be, or else a _bad man_ for making such claims. This is the _Great Alternative_. Moreover, it is absolutely unique in the world's history. Nowhere else shall we find a parallel to it. In Christ--and in Christ alone--we have a Man Whose moral character and teaching have fascinated the world for centuries; and yet Who, unless His own claims were true, must have been guilty of the greatest falsehood, and blasphemy. This is the only logical conclusion to be drawn from the facts we have been considering, and all attempts to avoid it fail hopelessly. Now what effect has this on our present inquiry as to the truth of Christianity? Plainly it forms another strong argument in its favour. For the moral teaching of its Founder is shown to be not only the most perfect the world has ever seen, but it is combined with a sense of entire sinlessness which is absolutely unique among men. Both of these, however, are also combined with claims to a superhuman and Divine character, which, if they are not correct, can only be described as impious, and profane. Therefore, unless Christianity is true, its Founder must have been not only the very _best_ of men; but also one of the very _worst_; and this is a dilemma from which there is no escape. CHAPTER XXII. THAT THE HISTORY OF CHRISTIANITY CONFIRMS ITS TRUTH. (_A._) ITS EARLY TRIUMPHS. (1.) Its immense difficulties. (2.) Its marvellous success. (3.) The so-called _natural_ causes of success: they all imply the truth of the Religion. (4.) Contrast with Mohammedanism. (_B._) ITS LATER HISTORY. (1.) Its vitality in the past; very remarkable. (2.) Its effect at the present; very beneficial. (3.) Its prospects in the future; very hopeful. (4.) The spread of _Rationalism_; but this is no new difficulty, while it shows the strength of Christianity, and being only destructive, can never take its place. (_C._) CONCLUSION. The history of Christianity, which seems to have been foreknown to its Founder, forms another strong argument in its favour. The argument we have next to consider is that derived from the _History of Christianity_. This religion, it must be remembered, originated, spread over, and finally conquered the civilised world in an historical age. And since the fact of this conquest can neither be disputed nor ignored, it must be accounted for. How is it that an obscure Jewish Peasant, who was crucified as a malefactor, some nineteen centuries ago, should now be worshipped, by over five hundred million persons, including all the most civilised nations of the world? As a mere historical problem, this requires some solution, for an effect in history, as elsewhere, must have an adequate cause. And it is scarcely too much to say that this is the most remarkable effect in the history of mankind. Here, then, is the subject we have to discuss; and we will first consider the _early triumphs_ of Christianity, and then its _later history_. (_A._) ITS EARLY TRIUMPHS. Now it seems hard to exaggerate either the immense difficulties the religion had to overcome, or its marvellous success in overcoming them. (1.) _Its immense difficulties._ In the first place, we must consider the immense difficulties of founding such a religion as Christianity. Our familiarity with the subject prevents us from fully realising this, so perhaps an analogy will help to make it clear. Suppose, then, that missionaries _now_ appeared in the cities of Europe, in London and Edinburgh, for example, and preached that an obscure peasant, who had been put to death somewhere in Persia as a malefactor, had risen from the dead, and was the God of heaven and earth. What chance would they have of making a single convert? Yet the first preaching of Christianity at Rome or Athens must have been very similar to this, only far more dangerous. Indeed, it is hard to over-estimate the difficulties of founding a religion, the principal doctrine of which,--and one that the Christians so boldly proclaimed,--was that of a crucified Saviour.[445] [Footnote 445: 1 Cor. 1. 23.] And all this took place among civilised nations, and in a literary, one might almost say a rationalistic, age; when the old pagan religions were being abandoned, because men could no longer believe in them. What, then, must have been the difficulty of introducing a new religion, which was (apparently) more absurd than any of them, and which worshipped One Who had been crucified? Christianity had, of course, many other difficulties to contend with especially in regard to its absolute claims; for it was a religion which could stand no rival, and its success meant the destruction of every heathen altar. But these sink into insignificance, compared with the great difficulty of the Cross. (2.) _Its marvellous success._ Yet, in spite of every difficulty, Christianity prevailed. The new religion spread with great rapidity. This we learn not only from Christian writers, who might be thought to exaggerate; but from impartial men such as _Suetonius_ and _Tacitus_. The former says that in the reign of Claudius (A.D. 41-54) the Jews in Rome, _stirred up by one Chrestus_ (_i.e._, Christian Jews), were so numerous that the Emperor thought it expedient to banish them; and the latter that at the time of the great fire (A.D. 64) _large numbers_ of Christians were discovered at Rome. While some years later _Pliny_, one of the Roman governors in Asia Minor, complained to the Emperor Trajan that the Christians were so numerous that the temples had long been deserted, though at the time he wrote (A.D. 112) they were being frequented again. He also bears witness to the exemplary lives of the Christians, their steadfastness in their religion, and the divine worship they paid to Christ. And as the religion did not originate in either Rome or Asia Minor, Christians were presumably as numerous elsewhere. Nor can it be said that they were only to be found among the poor and ignorant. For Pliny himself admits that they included men of _every rank_ in life; and the undisputed Epistles of St. Paul, such as that to the Romans (about A.D. 55), show that he thought his readers well educated, and quite able to follow a difficult argument. Moreover, according to the Acts, the people were by no means willing to accept Christianity without inquiry; and St. Paul was obliged in consequence to have long discussions on the subject. This was especially the case at Ephesus, where he _reasoned daily_ in one of the schools, for about _two years_,[446] which does not look as if his followers were only among the poor and ignorant. While elsewhere we have the names of some eminent converts. [Footnote 446: Acts 19. 9-10; 17. 17.] Among these may be mentioned _Erastus_ the treasurer of the city at Corinth; and _Crispus_, the ruler of the Synagogue there; _Dionysius_, the Areopagite at Athens; _Manaen_, the foster-brother of Herod the tetrarch; _Apollos_, a learned Jew of Alexandria, who had made a special study of the Scriptures; and _Theophilus_, a man of high rank (as is shown by the title _Most excellent_), none of whom are likely to have accepted the religion of the Crucified, without very strong evidence.[447] And recent discoveries in the catacombs have made it probable that a distinguished Roman lady, Pomponia Græcina (wife of the General Aulus Plautius) who Tacitus says was accused in A.D. 57 of having adopted a _foreign superstition_, was also a Christian.[448] [Footnote 447: Rom. 16. 23; Acts 18. 8; 17. 34; 13. 1; 18. 24; 1. 1; _comp._ 23. 26; 24. 3.] [Footnote 448: J. Orr, Hist. and Lit. of early Church, 1913, p. 43. Tacitus, Annals, Bk. xiii., ch. 32.] Now what was the cause of this wonderful progress? It is easy to say what was _not_ its cause. Physical force and the authority of the Government had nothing to do with it. Its missionaries did not preach with sword in hand, nor were they backed up by the civil power. All they did, all they could do, was to appeal to man's reason and conscience, and this appeal was successful. And we learn from the Christians' themselves, _e.g._, in the Acts, that there were two main reasons for this. The first was the confident appeal to the facts of Christianity, such as the Resurrection of Christ, as undisputed and indisputable; and the second was the occasional aid of miracles. And the more we reflect on the subject, the more difficult it is to account for it, without at least one of these causes. For the spread of Christianity was not like that of a mere philosophy, or system of morals. It depended entirely on certain alleged _matters of fact_, which facts were quite recent at the time of its origin, occurred at the very place where it was first preached, and were open to the hostile criticism of an entire nation. This, it is needless to say, is without a parallel in history. But it may be said, notwithstanding this rapid progress at first, Christianity took nearly three centuries to conquer the civilised world. Undoubtedly it did, but the significance of the conquest is not diminished by this. It is rather increased when we remember that at intervals all through this period the Religion suffered the fiercest persecution. That it should have survived such a fearfully prolonged struggle, and have finally conquered, does but show its inherent strength. We may look in vain for anything like this in the rest of history. No other religion has ever withstood such persistent attacks; no other religion has ever obtained such a complete and almost incredible triumph, the Emperor of the civilised world being brought to worship One Who had been put to death as a malefactor. In short, the progress of Christianity was as unique as its origin, and can only be satisfactorily accounted for by its truth. (3.) _The so-called natural causes of success._ We must next glance at some natural causes which have been alleged as accounting for the wonderful spread of Christianity. Those brought forward by Gibbon in his _Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire_ (Chapter XV.) are five in number. The first is the _intense zeal_ of the early Christians. And doubtless this was a most important element in spreading their religion. But what gave them this intense zeal? What was it that made them so fearfully in earnest about their new religion, that they faced a life of suffering, and a death of martyrdom in preaching it? There can be but one answer. It was because they were so absolutely convinced of its truth. It was vouched for by what they considered overwhelming evidence, so they willingly risked everything for it. Their zeal, then, is but evidence for their conviction, and their conviction is but evidence for the truth of what they were convinced of; and valuable evidence too, for they plainly had much better means of knowing about it, than any that we can have. Secondly, there is the doctrine of a _future life_; and doubtless this also had much to do with the success of Christianity. A longing for immortality seems inherent in man, and the vague guesses of philosophers were quite unable to satisfy this. It _might_ be true that men should live again, but that was all they could say. Christianity alone, resting on the actual fact of Christ's Resurrection, said it _was_ true; so here men found the assurance they wanted. But is it likely that Christianity should have so thoroughly satisfied them in this respect, had there been any real doubt as to Christ's Resurrection? Thirdly, we have the _miracles_ ascribed to the early Christians. Gibbon's argument here is more difficult to follow. Of course if these miracles were true, they would have greatly assisted the new religion; but then they would have been, not a natural but a supernatural cause of success. If on the other hand, the miracles were false, it is hard to see how the early Christians could have helped their religion by claiming miraculous powers which they did not possess, and which their contemporaries must have known that they did not possess. Fourthly, we have the _pure morality_ taught and practised by the early Christians. And no doubt this had something to do with helping their religion. But again we must ask, what was it that enabled the Christians alone in that age of vice and wickedness to lead pure lives? They ascribed it themselves to the example and power of their Founder, and nothing else can account for it. Christian morality cannot be a stream without a source, and no other source can be assigned to it. But could a mere human Teacher have had this more than human influence over thousands of converts, most of whom had never seen him? Lastly, comes the _union_ and _discipline_ of the early Church. This may have helped Christianity in the later stages of the struggle, but could obviously have been of little use at the commencement. Moreover, why should Christians of various nations and classes have been so thoroughly united on this one subject, unless they were convinced of its overwhelming importance? On the whole, then, these so-called natural causes of success are at most only _secondary_ causes; the truth of the religion is what they all imply, and this is the real cause which alone can account for its success. A better way of explaining the spread of Christianity, which is now often adopted, is by saying that it arose _at a favourable crisis_. The dispersion of the Jews throughout the known world would, it is urged, have facilitated the spread of a religion founded by Jews. The speculations of the Greeks as to a Divine Word, or _Logos_, would have prevented the doctrines of the Trinity, and the Incarnation, from forming any great difficulty to the learned classes. While the mass of the people were disgusted with the old mythologies of Greece and Rome. These were dying out, because they failed to satisfy human nature, and men were longing for something better. They wanted, as men always will want, a religion; but they wanted it free from the absurdities and immoralities of Pagan worship. Christianity then appeared, and as it was found by many to meet the demand, it naturally succeeded. In answer to this it must be remembered that Christianity was not a religion founded at Rome or Athens, in which case it might perhaps be said that the demand caused the supply; but it arose as a small Jewish sect in Palestine. While the fierce persecutions it had to endure show that it did not obviously meet the requirements of the day, even apart from the tremendous difficulties involved in the worship of the Crucified. But now suppose, for the sake of argument, that this had been otherwise, and that the world was so suited to receive Christianity as to account for its rapid spread; would the inference be against its Divine origin? Certainly not; for the agreement in this case would be far too close to be accidental. It must have been _designed_. And it would thus show that the God Who rules in history, is also the God Who introduced Christianity. So here again the proposed explanation, even if admitted, does but imply the truth of the religion. (4.) _Contrast with Mohammedanism._ And this conclusion is rendered still stronger when we contrast the progress of Christianity with that of Mohammedanism. For here we have the one example that history affords of the spread of a religion which can be compared with that of Christianity. Yet the contrast between the two is very marked, whether we consider the means by which they were spread, or their alleged evidence of truthfulness. For Mohammed did not appeal to reason, but to _force_, and all we have to account for is that he should be able to collect an army, that this army should conquer, and that the conquered should adopt the religion of their conquerors, about which they were often given no option. In the spread of Christianity, on the other hand, no force whatever was employed, and it had immense difficulties to contend with. In fact it carried a cross instead of a sword. Thus the contrast between the two is just what we should expect between the natural and the supernatural spread of a religion, the one advancing by worldly power, the other in spite of it. But an even greater contrast has still to be noticed, which is that Mohammed did not appeal to any _miracles_ in support of his claims--that is, to outward matters of fact which could be judged of by other people. And this is the more remarkable since he refers to the miracles of previous prophets, including those of Christ, as authentic,[449] but never claims to have worked any himself. The obvious conclusion is that he felt, as all men must feel, the overwhelming difficulty of asserting public miracles if none occurred, and he therefore appealed to force, because he had nothing better to appeal to. Yet, as we have seen, the early Christians asserted such miracles from the first. They were not advocates of a creed, but witnesses for certain facts, such as the Resurrection and other miracles which they believed they actually saw; and there is nothing corresponding to this in regard to Mohammedanism, or any other religion. It may of course be said that Mohammedanism shows that a religion can make rapid progress without miracles. No doubt it does; and so does Buddhism, which also spread rapidly. But it does not show that a religion which, like Christianity, claims to rest on miracles, can make its way if those miracles are false. [Footnote 449: Koran, Sura v.] (_B._) ITS LATER HISTORY. We pass on now from the early triumphs of Christianity to its later history, and will consider in turn its past vitality, its present effect, and its future prospects. (1.) _Its vitality in the past._ To begin with, a strong argument in favour of Christianity is its vitality. It has survived in spite of external assaults and internal divisions; and its spread and continuity can only be satisfactorily accounted for by its truth. This is an argument the force of which increases as times goes on, and fresh difficulties are encountered and overcome. Moreover, the social state of the world has changed immensely, yet Christianity has always kept in touch with it. It has shown itself suitable for different ages, countries, and social conditions; and, unlike other religions, is still in sympathy with the highest forms of civilisation. In short, Christianity has kept possession of the civilised world for sixteen centuries, and is as vigorous in its age as in its youth. Its long reign is indeed so familiar to us that there is a danger of not noticing its importance. Can we imagine a man _now_ who should found a religion, which nearly two thousand years hence should be still flourishing, still spreading, and still recognising him not only as its founder but its God? Yet this would be but a similar case to that of Christianity. Amid all the changes in history it alone has remained unchanged. Its doctrines, at least the essential ones, contained in the Creeds, have been the same, century after century, and its Founder is still worshipped by millions. (2.) _Its effect at the present._ In close connection with the history of Christianity comes its effect on the world. A religion which has reigned so long, and over the most civilised nations, must of necessity have had some influence for good or evil. And with regard to Christianity there can be little doubt as to the answer. The present state of the civilised world is a standing witness to its benefits, since nearly all our moral superiority to the nations of old is due to this religion. For example, it has entirely altered the position of _women_, who are no longer looked down upon as they used to be. It has also altered the position of _children_, who were formerly considered as property, and at the disposal of their parents, infanticide being of course common. Again, it has changed our ideas as to the _sick_, a hospital being almost entirely a Christian institution. It has also changed our ideas about _work_. In all the nations of antiquity, and in heathen countries at the present day, a workman is looked down upon. But to Christians, who believe that God Himself worked in a carpenter's shop, all work is ennobled. Once more, it has created a respect for _human life_ as such, and apart from the position of the individual person, which was unknown in ancient times. In short, our acknowledgement of what are called the _rights of man_ is almost entirely due to Christianity. Nor is there anything surprising in this; for the common Fatherhood of God and the common love of Christ naturally afford the strongest argument for the common rights of man. In Christ, as St. Paul expresses it, there can be _neither bond, nor free_; _male nor female_; for all are equal.[450] The good which Christianity has done is thus indisputable. [Footnote 450: Gal. 3. 28.] But it may be said, has it not also done some _harm_? What about the religious wars and persecutions in the Middle Ages? With regard to the wars, however, religion was, as a rule, the excuse rather than the cause; for had Christianity never been heard of, there would doubtless have been wars in the Middle Ages, as in all other ages. With regard to the persecutions, they must be both admitted and deplored; but we may ask, what religion except Christianity could have been mixed up with such persecutions, and yet have escaped the odium of mankind? Christianity has done so, because men have seen that it was not the religion itself, but its false friends who were responsible for the persecutions. The important point is that the New Testament, unlike the Koran,[451] does not authorise, still less command, the employment of force in gaining converts. [Footnote 451: Koran, Sura viii. 12; ix. 5; xlvii. 4.] We now turn to another aspect of the subject. Not only has Christianity done much good in the past, but it is doing much good at the present. This also is beyond dispute; anyone can verify the fact for himself. Thousands of men and women spend their lives in self-sacrifice among the poor and sick solely for the sake of Christ. Of course, it may be said that all this is folly and that we ought to try and benefit our fellow-men for their own sake or for the sake of the State. But, whether folly or not, the fact remains. The vast majority of those who visit the poor and sick (Sisters of Mercy for instance) do not do so for the sake of the State, or even mainly for the sake of the poor themselves, but from avowedly Christian motives. They believe that Christ loves these poor, and therefore they love them too, and willingly spend their lives in trying to help them. It is also a fact that this strange _attraction_ which Christ exercises, over the hearts of men is unique in history. Can we imagine anyone spending his life in visiting the sick in some large town, and saying that he is doing it for the love of David, or of Plato, or of Mohammed? Yet all through the civilised world thousands are doing it for the love of Christ. And this influence, be it observed, is not like that of other great men, local and temporary, but world-wide and permanent. Christ is thus not only, as we saw in the last chapter, the _holiest_ of men, but the _mightiest_ of men also; the Man in short who has most influenced mankind. And, with trifling exceptions, few will dispute that this influence has been wholly for good. So judged by its fruits, Christianity is a religion which might very reasonably have had a Divine origin. On the other hand, it must be admitted that though Christianity has done so much good, it has not entirely reformed the world,--it has not even stopped wars among Christian nations--and its failure to do this, after trying for so many centuries, is thought by some to be adverse to its claims. But others think that its partial success and partial failure are just what we should expect if it were true. And what is more to the point, this seems to have been expected by its Founder, for He always implied that the good and the evil--the wheat and the tares--were to be mixed together until the end of the world. Moreover, its failure has been due almost entirely to the _inconsistency_ of its adherents. If all men were Christians, and all Christians lived up to the religion they professed, there would be little to complain of, even in this imperfect world. On the whole, then, the _effect_ of Christianity is distinctly in its favour. It has done much good, and will probably do more as time goes on; though it has not entirely reformed the world, and probably never will. But the good it has done is an actual fact which cannot be disputed, while the argument that it ought to have done more good is at least open to doubt. (3.) _Its prospects in the future._ Lastly, the spread of Christianity seems likely to continue, and some day we may expect to see it universally professed in the world, as it is in Western Europe at the present time, though, of course, there will always be individuals who dissent from it. The reasons for this confident hope are, that, speaking broadly, Christian nations alone are extending their influence. Japan may, of course, be quoted as an exception, but strange to say Japan seems to be becoming Christian. And to this must be added the fact that Christian _missions_ are now being revived to a large extent; and, though they are not always successful, yet, taken together, they secure a good many converts. Moreover, there is no other side to this argument. It is not that Christianity is being adopted in some countries but renounced in others. The gains, whether great or small, are all _net profits_. With one exception, there is not a single instance for many centuries of a nation or tribe which once adopted Christianity changing its religion to anything else. And the exception, that of France at the time of the Revolution, strikingly proves the rule; for the change could not be maintained, and in a few years Christianity again asserted itself throughout the country. (4.) _The spread of Rationalism._ But an important objection has now to be examined. It is said that even in Christian countries an increasingly large number of men either openly reject Christianity, or give it at most a mere nominal approval. This may be called the objection from the spread of _Rationalism_, and it is an important one, because it is an attempt to meet Christianity with its own weapons, by appealing to reason. Of course it must be remembered that a great deal of the infidelity of the present day is not due to reasoning at all, but to the want of it; and it is hopeless to argue against this. For how can men be convinced of Christianity, or anything else, if they will not take the trouble to examine its claims? But putting aside this class, there are still many men who may fairly be called Rationalists--men, that is, who have studied _both_ sides of the subject, and whose reasoning leads them to reject Christianity. They admit that there is evidence in its favour, but they say that it is far from convincing. And it is believed by many that Rationalism is spreading at the present day, and will eventually become common among thoughtful men. Now, of course, the whole of this _Essay_ is really an attempt to meet this objection, and to show that, when carefully considered, the arguments in favour of Christianity far outweigh those against it. But three additional remarks may be made here. The first is, that this is no _new_ difficulty. Rationalism has existed ever since the Middle Ages, and was most aggressive and most confident in the eighteenth century, as a single quotation will show. Bishop Butler in the preface to his _Analogy of Religion_, 1736, says, 'It has come, I know not how, to be taken for granted, by many persons, that Christianity is not so much as a subject of inquiry, but that it is now at length discovered to be fictitious. And accordingly they treat it as if, in the present age, this were an agreed point among all people of discernment; and nothing remained but to set it up as a principal subject of mirth and ridicule, as it were by way of reprisals for its having so long interrupted the pleasures of the world.' It is now nearly two centuries since these words were written, and Christianity is still flourishing! Therefore, as all previous attacks have proved futile, there is no reason to believe that the present one will be more successful. Secondly, these continued assaults on Christianity afford in one respect additional evidence in its favour; since they show, as nothing but repeated attacks could show, its _indestructibility_. Had Christianity never been assailed, its strength would never have been apparent; but now we know that, try as men will for centuries, they cannot get rid of this religion. Thirdly, it must be remembered that Rationalism is all destructive and not constructive. It can show many reasons for _not_ believing in Christianity, but it can give the world nothing which can in any way take its place. It has no satisfactory solution for the great problems of life. Why does man exist at all? Why has he got free will? What is the meaning of sin? Is there any forgiveness for sin? What is the meaning of death? Is there any life beyond death? Is there a judgment? Can we dare to face it? Shall we recognise those whom we have loved on earth? In short, what is man's destiny here and hereafter? These are the questions which always have interested, and always will interest, mankind. Rationalists may say that the Christian answer to them is incorrect; but they can offer no other which is worth a moment's consideration. (_C._) CONCLUSION. Before concluding this chapter one other point of some importance has to be noticed. It is that the early history of Christianity with its continual triumph amidst continual persecution, seems to have been foreknown to its Founder; as well as His own marvellous influence in the world. These _prophecies_ of Christ concerning His own religion are certainly very striking. We find, on the one hand, a most absolute conviction as to the triumph of His Church. It was to spread far and wide; its missionaries were to go into _all the world_ and make disciples _of all the nations_, and its enemies would never _prevail against it_.[452] And on the other, there is an equally certain conviction as to the constant sufferings of its members, who were to expect life-long persecution and the universal hatred of mankind.[453] [Footnote 452: Mark 16. 15; Matt. 28. 19; 16. 18.] [Footnote 453: _E.g._, Matt. 10. 17, 22.] Yet these strange prophecies of continual success amidst continual suffering were for three centuries as strangely fulfilled, including even the little detail that Christ's followers were to be hated for His _name's_ sake.[454] Since as a matter of fact they were often persecuted for the mere _name_, and it was this that made them so indignant. Thus Justin says, 'You receive the _name_ as proof against us.... If any deny the _name_ you acquit him as having no evidence against him.'[455] As Christ foretold, it was literally for His _name's_ sake. [Footnote 454: Mark 13. 13.] [Footnote 455: Justin, Apol. 1. 4; 1 Peter 4. 14.] Moreover, Christ's assertions regarding His own influence in the world are equally remarkable. We will give but two examples.[456] He said, _And I, if I be lifted up from the earth, will draw all men unto Myself_. He was lifted up on the cross, and, however strange we may think it, millions of men have in consequence been drawn to Him with passionate devotion. Again, He said, _I am the light of the world_. And now, after nearly nineteen centuries, both friends and foes admit that His is the teaching which has enlightened and purified mankind. Had He been a mere Jewish peasant, His making such prophecies as these seems almost as incredible as their fulfilment. But what shall we say when they were both made _and_ fulfilled? Have we not here a powerful argument in favour of Christianity? Nor can we get out of the difficulty by denying the genuineness of the passages; for they would be quite as remarkable if invented by an evangelist, as if spoken by Christ Himself. [Footnote 456: John 12. 32; 8. 12.] We may now sum up this chapter on the _History of Christianity_. We have considered in turn, both its early triumphs, and its later history; and each of these is, strictly speaking, unique, and each is inexplicable on purely natural grounds. But undoubtedly the more important is the marvellous success of Christianity at first, in spite of the immense difficulties it had to encounter; and, as we have seen, all natural explanations of _this_ fail hopelessly. The historical argument, then, leads us back to _miracles_; for every other explanation of the first triumph of Christianity is found to be inadequate. While, on the other hand, the establishment of the Christian religion is just what we should expect if the miracles were true. And of course true miracles, not false ones, are required to account for it. The most holy and the most powerful religion the world has ever seen cannot have been founded on falsehood or fable. In other words, if we deny that the Christian miracles occurred, and take from Christ all that is superhuman, we cannot imagine Him as the Founder of Christianity. There would be an obvious want of proportion between cause and effect. And, as a matter of fact, it was not a natural Christ, but a supernatural Christ--_the Christ of the Gospels_--who won the heart of mankind, and conquered the world. We seem thus forced to the conclusion that the only thing which can account for the history of Christianity is its _truth_. Anyhow, it is plain that its _History_ forms another strong argument in its favour. CHAPTER XXIII. THAT ON THE WHOLE THE OTHER EVIDENCE SUPPORTS THIS CONCLUSION. Additional arguments for and against Christianity. (_A._) CHRISTIANITY AND PRAYER. Its universality. There are, however, three difficulties: (1.) Scientific difficulty; said to be incredible, as interfering with the course of nature. (2.) Moral difficulty; said to be wrong, as inconsistent with the power, wisdom, and goodness of God. (3.) Practical difficulty; said to be useless, as shown by observation; but none of these can be maintained. (_B._) CHRISTIANITY AND HUMAN NATURE. It is adapted to human nature; for it meets to a great extent the inherent cravings of mankind, especially in regard to sorrow and sin, death and eternity. The objection as to selfishness. (_C._) CHRISTIANITY AND OTHER RELIGIONS. Their comparative study; the Krishna myth; the Horus myth. Conclusion. We propose in this chapter to consider some of the remaining arguments for and against Christianity. Fortunately, there are only three of anything like sufficient importance to affect the general conclusion. These arise from the relation of Christianity to prayer, to human nature, and to other religions; and we will examine each in turn. We need not discuss mere _Bible difficulties_, as they are called; for though some of these are fatal to the theory of Verbal Inspiration, or that every word of the Bible is true; this is now held by scarcely anyone. And if the Book is as trustworthy a record of the facts it relates, as an ordinary History of England, that is amply sufficient to prove Christianity. Nor, on the other hand, need we discuss further evidence in favour of the Bible. But as we considered what it says about the creation of the world, we may just notice in passing what it says about its end. There will be a _great noise_, the elements will be _dissolved with fervent heat_, and the earth, and all it contains will be _burned up_.[457] Everyone now admits that this is true, for our planet will, sooner or later, fall into the sun, when all these results will follow. But (apart from Revelation) how could the writer have known it? There is nothing in the present aspect of the earth to suggest that it will one day be _burned up_, and considering the amount of water it contains, the idea might well seem incredible. We pass on now to the subject of Prayer. [Footnote 457: 2 Peter 3. 10.] (_A._) CHRISTIANITY AND PRAYER. Now the Christian, in common with most other religions, asserts the value of prayer not only for obtaining what are called spiritual blessings, but also as a means of influencing natural events. Yet prayer with such an object is said by many to be scientifically _incredible_, morally _wrong_, and practically _useless_. So we will first glance at the universality of the custom, and then consider these difficulties. Now, prayer of some kind is, and always has been, the universal rule in almost every religion. It is found wherever mankind is found. No one can point to its inventor, no one can point to a time when men did not pray. Missionaries have not to teach their converts to pray, but merely to _Whom_ to pray. In short, prayer of some kind seems universal, just as man's sense of right and wrong is universal, though each is capable of being trained and perfected. Nor is it in any way like an animal's cry of pain when hurt, which, though universal, means nothing; for this of course resembles a man's cry of pain, and has no connection with prayer whatever. If, then, prayer is a delusion, it is to say the least a very remarkable one, especially as in most ancient religions prayer was made to false gods who could not answer it; yet in spite of every failure, the belief in prayer has always remained. Men have always preferred to think that the failure was due to their own unworthiness, rather than give up the belief in a God Who answers prayer. And this _universality_ of the custom is a strong argument in its favour; for it seems most unlikely that God should have implanted in mankind a universal habit of asking if He never intended to answer. We pass on now to the difficulties. (1.) _Scientific difficulty._ In the first place, it is said that answers to prayer are scientifically _incredible_, since they would involve God's interfering with the course of nature, or, in popular language, working miracles. The most probable explanation is, that they are only a particular class of _superhuman coincidences_ (Chapter VII.). According to this theory, God, knowing beforehand that the prayer would be offered, arranged beforehand to answer it. Thus the prayer was not a direct cause of the event which fulfilled it, but it may still have been an indirect cause. For had the man not prayed, God, foreknowing this, might not have arranged for the event to have happened. And the same is true even when the prayer is made _after_ the event. Suppose, for instance, a man heard of the loss of a ship in which his son was travelling, and prayed for his safety. That safety, as far as the shipwreck was concerned, must have been decided before the father prayed. Yet, as everything was foreknown to God, his subsequent prayer might not have been useless; since, if God had not known that the father would have prayed, He might not have brought about the son's safety. Of course, it may be said that this is making the cause come after the effect, and is therefore absurd. No doubt it would be so if merely physical forces were involved; but when we are dealing with personal beings, able to foresee and act accordingly, there is nothing impossible in a cause happening after what was in a certain sense its effect. For instance, my going for a holiday next week may be the cause of my working hard this; though, strictly speaking, it is my _foreknowledge_ of the intended holiday, that leads to my working hard. So in the case before us. It is God's _foreknowledge_ that the prayer will be offered, that leads Him to answer it; but for all practical purposes this is the same as if the prayer itself did so. Therefore this theory does not detract from the value and importance of prayer any more than God's foreknowledge in other respects makes human conduct of no importance. In every case God foreknows the result, not in spite of, but because He also foreknows, the man's conduct on which it depends. While if we admit what is called God's _Immanence_ in nature, and that everything that occurs is due to the present and immediate action of His Will (Chapter VII.), it greatly lessens any remaining difficulty there may be in regard to prayer. From this it is plain that answers to prayer may, without losing their value, be regarded as superhuman coincidences; and, if so, they do not involve any interference with the ordinary course of nature, and all scientific difficulties are at an end. (2.) _Moral difficulty_. In the next place, prayer is said to be morally _wrong_, since it is inconsistent with each of the three great attributes of God. It is inconsistent with His _Power_, by implying that He is partly under the control of men; with His _Wisdom_, by implying that He has to be informed of what we want; and with His _Goodness_, by implying that He cannot be trusted to act for the best, without our interference. But with regard to God's _Power_, no one who prays supposes that God is under the control of his prayers, but merely that He may freely choose to be influenced by them. Insignificant as man is in comparison with his Maker, we have already shown that God takes an interest in his welfare. And admitting this, there is nothing improbable in His being influenced by a man's prayer. Nor is this in any way trying to persuade Him to change His Will, since as everything was foreknown to God, the prayer with all it involved, may have been part of His Will from all eternity. Nor does it reflect on His _Wisdom_, for no one who prays supposes that prayer is for the information of God, but merely that it is the way in which He wishes us to show our trust in Him. And then, as to God's _Goodness_. As a matter of fact, God does not wait for us to pray before sending most of His blessings; but a few of them are said to be conditional on our praying. And this is quite consistent with perfect goodness. Human analogy seems decisive on the point. A father may know what his child wants, may be quite willing to supply that want, and may yet choose to wait till the child asks him. And why? Simply because supplying his wants is not the whole object the father has in view. He also wishes to train the child's character; to teach him to rely upon and trust his father, and to develop his confidence and gratitude. And all this would be unattainable if the father supplied his wants as a machine would do; in which case the child might perhaps forget that his father was not a machine. Now, for all we know, precisely the same may be the case with regard to prayer. God may wish not only to supply man's wants, but also to train and develop his character. Indeed, as shown in Chapter V., the existence of evil seems to force us to this very conclusion. And if so, it is out of the question to say that His not giving some blessings till they are asked for is inconsistent with perfect goodness. It may be a very proof of that goodness. For, as already said, God's goodness does not consist of simple beneficence, but also of righteousness. And, as a general rule, it certainly seems right that those who believe in God, and take the trouble to ask for His blessings, should be the ones to receive them. And here we may notice another moral difficulty, which is sometimes felt in regard to prayers _for others_. They are said to be _unjust_, since one man's success would often mean another's failure. Suppose, for instance, a man is going in for a competitive examination, say a scholarship or a clerkship; and a friend of his prays that he may get it. Of course in most cases this will not affect the issue; but all who believe in the power of prayer must admit that in _some_ cases it will. Yet is not this hard on the next competitor, who loses the scholarship in consequence? It certainly seems so. But it is only part of a more general difficulty. For suppose the man's friend instead of praying for him, sent him some money to enable him to have a tutor. Is not this equally hard on the other man? Yet no one will say that his having the tutor could not affect the result; or that his friend acted unfairly in sending him the money. So in regard to prayer. Indeed of all ways of helping a friend, praying for him seems the fairest; since it is appealing to a Being, Who we know will always act fairly; and will not grant the petition, unless it is just and right to do so. The objection, then, that prayer is morally wrong cannot be maintained from any point of view. It is, however, only fair to add that a certain class of prayers would be wrong. We have no right to pray for _miracles_, _e.g._, for water to run uphill, or for a dead man to come to life again; though we have a right to pray for any ordinary event, such as rain or recovery from sickness. The reason for this distinction is obvious. A miracle is, in popular language, something contrary to the order of nature; and as the order of nature is merely the Will of Him who ordered nature, it would be contrary to God's Will. And we must not ask God to act contrary to what we believe to be His Will. Of course it may be said that to pray for rain, when otherwise it would not have rained, really involves a miracle. But here everything depends on the words _when otherwise it would not have rained_. If we knew this for certain, it would be wrong to pray for rain (just as it would be wrong for the father to pray for his son's safety after hearing that he had been drowned) not knowing it for certain, it is not wrong. Therefore as we do know for certain that water will not run uphill without a miracle, it is always wrong to pray for that. In the same way we may pray for fruitful crops, because it is plainly God's Will that mankind should be nourished; but we may not pray to be able to live without food, since this is plainly not God's Will. No doubt, in the Bible, miracles were sometimes prayed for, but only by persons who acted under special Divine Guidance; and this affords no argument for our doing so. (3.) _Practical difficulty._ Lastly, it is said, even admitting that prayers might be answered, yet we have abundant evidence that they never are; so that prayer at the present day is _useless_. But several points have to be noticed here; for no one asserts that _all_ prayers are answered. Various conditions have to be fulfilled. A person, for instance, must not only believe in God, and in His power and willingness to answer prayers; but the answer must be of such a kind that it would be right to pray for it. Moreover, he must be trying to lead such a life as God wishes him to lead; and also be honestly exerting himself to gain the required end, for prayer cannot be looked upon as a substitute for work. And this prevents our deciding the question by _experiment_, as is sometimes urged. Why not, it is said, settle the question once for all by a test case? But this is impossible, since in the vast majority of cases we cannot say whether the above conditions are fulfilled or not; and even if we could, it would still be impracticable. For prayer is the earnest entreaty that God would grant something we earnestly desire; and if used as an experiment, it ceases to be genuine prayer altogether. But it is further urged that though we cannot decide by experiment we can by _observation_. The facts, however, can be explained on either theory. Suppose, for instance, an epidemic breaks out, and prayer is at once made that it may cease; but instead of ceasing, it continues for a week, and kills a hundred persons. How do we know that but for the prayers it might not have continued for a month and killed a thousand? And the same argument applies in other cases. Against these various objections we must remember that an immense number of men of many ages and countries, and of undoubted honesty and intelligence have asserted that their prayers have been answered; and the cumulative value of this evidence is very great. While, to those who possess it, the conviction that certain events happened, not accidentally, as we might say, but in answer to some prayer, is absolutely convincing. None of these difficulties, then, can be maintained. There is nothing _incredible_ in prayers being answered, they are not _wrong_, and many of those who ought to know best (_i.e._, those who pray) assert that they are not _useless_. (_B._) CHRISTIANITY AND HUMAN NATURE. The next subject we have to consider is a very important one, the _adaptation_ of Christianity to human nature. To begin with, it is undeniable that Christianity appeals very strongly to some, at least, among every class of men. The poor value it as much as the rich, the ignorant as much as the learned; children can partly understand it, and philosophers can do no more. And this is not only the case at the present time, but it has been so among all the changing conditions of society for eighteen centuries. Now, when we inquire into the reason of this powerful hold which Christianity has on so many men, we find it is because it meets certain inherent cravings of human nature. Some of these, such as man's belief in prayer, and his sense of responsibility, are of course satisfied by any form of Theism. So also is his idea of justice, which requires virtue and vice to be suitably rewarded hereafter, since they are not here. But man's nature has many other cravings besides these; yet Christianity seems to satisfy it everywhere. We will consider four points in detail and select _Sorrow_ and _Sin_, _Death_ and _Eternity_. The first three, and possibly the fourth, all have to be faced; they are the common heritage of all mankind. And while Rationalism does not help us to face any of them, and Natural Religion leaves much in uncertainty, Christianity meets the needs of mankind throughout, or at all events far better than any other religion. And first, as to _Sorrow_. It is indisputable that in this life man has to bear a great deal of sorrow and suffering; and it is also indisputable that when in sorrow he longs for someone who can both sympathise with him, and help him. An impersonal God can, of course, do neither; indeed, we might as well go for comfort to the force of gravity. And though a personal God can help us, we do not feel sure that He can sympathise with us. On the other hand, fellow-men can sympathise, but they cannot always help. In Christ alone we have a Being Who entirely satisfies human nature; for being Man, He can sympathise with human sorrow, and being God, He can alleviate it. So here Christianity supplies a universal want Of course, the doctrine of the _Incarnation_ also satisfies mankind in other respects, especially in presenting him with a worthy Being for his affections, and with a perfect Example; but these points have been already noticed in Chapter XIII. Next, as to _Sin_. Here again the facts are practically undisputed. Man's sense of sin is universal, so also is his belief in the justice of God; and therefore in all ages man has longed for some means of appeasing the Deity. The widespread custom of sacrifice is a conclusive proof of this. Yet, wherever Christianity has been accepted, such sacrifices have been abandoned. It is scarcely necessary to point out the reason for this. The Christian doctrine of the _Atonement_ entirely satisfies these cravings of mankind. It admits the fact of sin; it provides a sufficient Sacrifice for sin, which man could never provide for himself, and it thus assures him of complete forgiveness. Yet, as shown in Chapter XIII., it does all this without in any way lessening the guilt of sin, or allowing man to sin on with impunity; for it makes _repentance_ an essential condition of forgiveness. Moreover, Christianity proves that sin is not a necessity in human nature; for it alone of all religions can point to One Who, though tempted as we are, was yet without sin. And Christ's temptations were probably greater than any that we can have. For it is only when a man _resists_ a temptation that he feels its full force, just as only those trees that were _not_ blown down, felt the full force of the gale. Therefore Christ alone, because He was sinless, can have felt the full force of every temptation. And Christians assert, and they surely ought to know best, that this example of Christ is a strong help in enabling them to resist temptation. Next, as to _Death_. Here again the facts are undisputed. Few persons like to contemplate their own death, yet it is the one event to which we may look forward with certainty. But is there a life after death? Most men long for it, and most religions have tried to satisfy this longing in one way or another, but only with partial success. The higher nature of man revolts against any mere material or sensual heaven, while a purely spiritual heaven does not satisfy him either; for a man longs to know that he will be able to recognise again those whom he has loved on earth. This is indeed one of our deepest, strongest, and most universal longings (who is there that has not felt it?), yet there must always be some doubt as to recognising a spirit. And here again the Christian doctrine of the _Resurrection of the Body_ alone satisfies the cravings of mankind; for all doubt is now at an end. The risen body will define and localise man's spirit then, just as the natural body does now; and though there will be a great change, it will not prevent recognition. Even the Apostles, though unprepared for it, and though themselves unaware of what a risen body was like, were soon able to recognise Christ after His Resurrection. There is, of course, the well-known difficulty as to the _period of life_ of the risen body. A man, it is said, would only be recognised by his grandfather, if he remained a child; and by his grandson, if he were an old man. But the difficulty is not so great as it seems; for in this life a man who has not seen his son, since he was a child, may not be able to recognise him in later years, in the sense of knowing him by sight. But he may be immensely pleased to meet him again, and live near him, especially if in the meanwhile the son had done well, and been a credit to his father. Moreover, the risen body will show us, for the first time, what a man really is, when his accidental surroundings, such as wealth or poverty, have been removed; and his character is at length perfected. And perhaps we shall then see that all that is best in the various states in which he has lived here--the affection of childhood, the activity of boyhood, and the mature judgment of manhood--will be combined in the risen body. And though it is somewhat tantalising not to know more about this future life, very possibly we are not told more, because we should not be able to understand it if we were. Even in this world it is doubtful if a savage or a young child could understand the intellectual life of a civilised man, however carefully it might be explained to him; and practically certain that an ape could not. And for all we know our own future life may be as far beyond our present understanding. It is the _Great Surprise_ in store for us all. But however much we may be changed, our personal identity will still remain, _I shall be I, and you will be you_, with much the same characters as we have at present. This is the important point, and of this we may be quite sure. Lastly, as to _Eternity_. Christianity, it is true, can say little here, but that little is full of hope. It opens up boundless possibilities, far more than any other religion. For by the Incarnation human nature has been united to the Divine, and thus raised to a position second only to that of God Himself. No destiny, then, that can be imagined is too great for man. Created in the image of the Triune God, with a supernatural freedom of choice; his nature united to God's by the Incarnation; his sins forgiven through the Atonement; his body purified and spiritualised at its Resurrection--surely the end of all this cannot be any mere monotonous existence, but rather one of ceaseless joy and activity. Heaven has been called the _last act_ in God's drama of the universe. And considering the magnitude of the previous acts--the formation of the solar system, the development of organic life, etc.--we should expect this last act to be on a scale equally vast and magnificent, and as far above anything we can imagine as the life of a butterfly is above the imagination of a chrysalis. Now the conclusion to be drawn from all this is quite plain. Christianity is so adapted to man's nature that it probably came from the Author of man's nature; just as if a complicated key fits a complicated lock, it was probably made by the same locksmith. And since Christianity is meant for all mankind, and the vast majority of men have neither time nor ability to examine its proofs, the fact of its thus appealing direct to human nature is certainly a strong argument in its favour. But we must now consider an objection. It is, that Christianity is really a _selfish_ religion, looking only for future rewards, and teaching men to follow virtue, not for virtue's sake, but solely with a view to their own advantage. But this is an entire mistake, though a very common one. The Christian's motive, in trying to lead such a life as God wishes him to lead, is simply _love_. He has, as already said, an overwhelming sense of God's love to him. And though, doubtless, leading a good life will bring with it some future reward, yet this is not the true motive for leading it. Compare the case of a young child trying to please his parents simply because he loves them. It would be unjust to call this selfishness, though it may be quite true that the parents will do much for the child later on in life, which they would not have done had the child never shown them any affection. Nor, to take another example, is it selfishness for a young man to put aside a certain amount of his earnings for his old age, when he will be unable to work, though it will certainly be to his own advantage. Selfishness is having regard to one's self, _at the expense of other people_. But this does not apply to a Christian striving after his own salvation. The _Great Ambition_, as it is called, is one which all may entertain, all may work for, and all may realise. Still, it may be asked, is not the hope of future reward meant to influence men at all? No doubt it is to some extent. But what then? Hope is undoubtedly a powerful motive in human nature, and therefore Christianity, by partly appealing to this motive, does but show how fully adapted it is to human nature. It provides the highest motive of _love_ for those able to appreciate it; the lower motive of _hope_ of future reward for the many who would not be reached by the former; and we may add, the still lower motive of _fear_ of future punishment for those who could not be otherwise influenced. This objection, then, as to selfishness is quite untenable. (_C._) CHRISTIANITY AND OTHER RELIGIONS. We have lastly to consider the relation in which Christianity stands to other religions; since an argument against Christianity is often drawn from their _comparative study_. In far more ancient religions, it is alleged, we find similar doctrines to those of the Trinity, the Incarnation, the Atonement, and the Resurrection; and this is fatal to the claim of Christianity to be the one and only true Religion. But as to the doctrine of the _Trinity_, it is really unique. Some other religions, it is true, had a group of three gods; but this was merely a form of Polytheism. And though these gods were often addressed by the same titles, there does not appear to have been anything resembling the Christian idea of the Triune God. Next, as to the _Incarnation_. This is said to resemble similar doctrines of other ancient religions, more especially the incarnation of _Krishna_. For though he was not (as is sometimes asserted) born of a virgin, being the eighth son of his parents;[458] he is yet believed to have been in some sense an incarnation of the supreme god Vishnu. And he is recorded to have worked various miracles similar to those of Christ, and to have claimed an equally absolute devotion from his followers. Most scholars, however, now place these legends some centuries later than the Christian era; and considering the early spread of Christianity in India, and the similarity in name between Krishna and Christ, they may be only distorted versions of the Gospel story. [Footnote 458: Tisdall, Christianity and Other Faiths, 1912, p. 89.] But even were they earlier than Christianity, it seems impossible for them to have influenced it. For not only is India many hundreds of miles from Palestine, but there is also a great moral difficulty. Since the miracles and occasional lofty teaching of Krishna are associated all along with a most immoral character. In the Gospels, on the other hand, they occur among suitable surroundings, and form perfect parts of a perfect whole. A single example will illustrate this difference. On one occasion, Krishna is related to have healed a deformed woman, very similar to the story in Luke 13. But it is added he made her beautiful as well as whole, and subsequently spent the night with her in immorality. Few will contend that this was the origin of the Gospel story; and it is but one instance out of many.[459] [Footnote 459: Transactions of Victoria Institute, vol. xxi., p. 169.] Any resemblance, then, there may be between the Incarnation of Krishna and that of Christ cannot be due to Christianity having borrowed from the other religion. A far better explanation is to be found in the fact that man has almost always believed that God takes an interest in his welfare. And this inherent belief has naturally led him to imagine an incarnation, since this was the most fitting method by which God could make Himself known to man. And then this supposed incarnation was of course attended by various miracles of healing, somewhat similar to those of Christ, though often mixed up with immoral ideas, from which the Christian doctrine is entirely free. Next, as to the _Atonement_, especially the position of Christ, as the _Mediator_ between God and man. This also is said to resemble far older legends, such as the _Horus_ myth of ancient Egypt. The leading idea here seems to have been that Horus was the only son of the supreme God Osiris, and came on earth long ago, before the time of man. He was always looked upon as the champion of right against wrong, and nothing but lofty and noble actions are ascribed to him. With regard to mankind, he became their deliverer and justifier. The soul after death was supposed to pass through a sort of Purgatory; where various dangers were overcome by the help of Horus; and finally, when judged before Osiris, he interceded for the faithful soul and ensured its salvation. And what makes the resemblance to Christianity all the more striking are the titles ascribed to Horus; such as _the Only Begotten Son of the Father_, _the Word of the Father_, _the Justifier of the Righteous_, and _the Eternal_ _King_. But the titles of Horus are very numerous, and very contradictory; therefore, while some of them bear such a striking resemblance to those of Christ, others do not; and many of them are also applied to the other gods.[460] [Footnote 460: Transactions of Victoria Institute, vol. xii., p. 52.] But still the position of Horus, as a mediator between God and man, undoubtedly resembles that of Christ. But what is the cause of this similarity? Not surely that the Christian doctrine was founded on that of Horus. As in the previous case, there is another and far better solution. For what was the origin of the Egyptian doctrine itself? It was simply this. The ancient Egyptians firmly believed in the _justice_ of God; the _immortality_ of man; his _responsibility_, involving a future judgment; and his _sinfulness,_ which naturally made him long for some mediator with the just Judge he would have to face hereafter. Given these four ideas--and they all belong to Natural Religion--and Horus was merely an imaginary being, who was thought to satisfy them. Hence, if these ideas are true, and if Christianity is the true religion, which really does satisfy them, that Horus should to some extent resemble Christ seems inevitable. Thus the Horus myth only proves how deeply rooted in the human mind is the idea of a _mediator_ between God and man. Lastly, as to the doctrine of the _Resurrection_, more especially that of Christ. Numerous analogies have been suggested for this, but none of them are at all satisfactory. Thus the Egyptian god Osiris is recorded as doing a great deal after his death; but he is only supposed to have done this by living on in the _spirit_, and there is no hint that his _body_ was restored to life, in the sense in which Christ's was; and the same may be said in other cases.[461] While the way in which the educated Athenians (who must have known a good deal about heathen religions) treated St. Paul, when he proclaimed the Resurrection of Christ, shows how absolutely novel they considered the doctrine.[462] [Footnote 461: Tisdall, Christianity and Other Faiths, 1912, p. 153.] [Footnote 462: Acts 17. 19, 32; 26.8.] We must also remember that the Christian doctrines of the Incarnation, the Atonement, and the Resurrection, were not slowly evolved, but were essential features in Christianity from the very first. They are all strongly insisted on by St. Paul. And this alone seems fatal to the idea of their having been derived from the myths of India, Egypt, and elsewhere. On the whole, then, it is evident that the _comparative study_ of religions, instead of being against Christianity, is distinctly in its favour; for it shows, as nothing but a comparative study could show, its striking superiority. Human nature is always the same, and in so far as other religions have satisfied human nature, they have resembled Christianity. On the other hand, Christianity differs from them in being free from their various absurdities and contradictions, as well as from their tendency to degenerate; and having instead a moral character of admitted excellence, and powerful evidence by which to establish its actual truth. In short, other religions are _human_; and therefore, as man is a mixture of good and evil, they contain some good (what we now call Natural Religion) and some evil. But Christianity is _superhuman_; and therefore contains all the good they do, with much more besides, and with none of their evil. This completes a brief examination of the more important additional arguments for and against Christianity. CHAPTER XXIV. THAT THE THREE CREEDS ARE DEDUCIBLE FROM THE NEW TESTAMENT. Only three Doctrines can be disputed. (_A._) THE DOCTRINE OF THE TRINITY. In addition to belief in God the Father, the New Testament teaches-- (1.) The Divinity of Christ. (2.) The Divinity of the Holy Spirit; so there are (3.) Three Divine Persons and yet but One God. (_B._) THE FINAL STATE OF THE WICKED. The only alternatives are: (1.) Their endless misery: very strong texts in favour of this; its difficulties considered. (2.) Their endless happiness: most improbable. (3.) Their destruction: more likely than the last, but still improbable. On the whole the statement of the Creed seems fully justified. (_C._) THE IMPORTANCE OF A TRUE BELIEF. This is strongly insisted on in the warning clauses of the Athanasian Creed. (1.) Their meaning. (2.) Their truthfulness: they merely repeat similar warnings in the New Testament. (3.) The objection as to dogmatism. We have now reached the last stage in our inquiry. We have shown in the previous chapters that there is very strong evidence in favour of what may be called in a general sense, Christianity or the Christian Religion--_i.e.,_ the Religion founded by Christ and taught in the New Testament. We have, lastly, to inquire, is this Religion correctly summarised in the doctrines and statements of the _Three Creeds_? And the only doctrines that can be disputed, are found in the Athanasian Creed, and refer to the _Trinity_; the _Final State of the Wicked;_ and the importance of a _True Belief_: each of which we will examine in turn. (_A._) THE DOCTRINE OF THE TRINITY. Now, although there are no statements in the New Testament identical with those in the Creed, yet the latter are merely logical deductions from the former. For the New Testament asserts that, besides God the Father, there are two other Divine Persons, Christ and the Holy Spirit, and yet but one God. (1.) _The Divinity of Christ_. This has already been discussed in Chapter XXI., where we showed that Christ claimed to be not only Superhuman, but Divine; and that this is how His contemporaries, both friends and foes, understood Him. The doctrine is also asserted by St. Paul, as well as by St. John, who in the opening verse of his Gospel, states it very concisely, saying that the Word (_i.e._, Christ) _was with God_, implying a distinction of Persons, and _was_ God, implying a unity of Nature; which is the exact doctrine of the Creed. (2.) _The Divinity of the Holy Spirit._ This also follows at once from the New Testament. For the Holy Spirit is called by Divine names, such as God and Lord; He is given Divine attributes, such as Eternity and Omniscience; and He is identified with Jehovah, the Lord of Hosts, of the Old Testament.[463] [Footnote 463: Acts 5. 3, 4; 2 Cor. 3.17; Heb. 9. 14; 1 Cor. 2. 10; Acts 28. 25; Isa. 6. 5-10.] And yet, He is a distinct _Person_: for, to quote a decisive text,[464] Christ prays the Father to send His disciples _another_ Comforter when He goes away; thus showing that the Holy Spirit is a different Person, both from the Father and the Son. And elsewhere we are told that the Spirit _makes intercession for us_, which again shows that He must be a different Person from the Father, with Whom He intercedes.[465] While in another passage blasphemy against the Holy Ghost is said to be the worst of all sins;[466] which shows both that He is a _Person_, or He could not be blasphemed; and that He is _God_, or blasphemy against God would be a greater sin. [Footnote 464: John 14. 16, 26; 15. 26.] [Footnote 465: Rom. 8. 26.] [Footnote 466: Matt. 12. 31, 32; Mark 3. 28, 29.] No doubt the actual word _Person_ is not applied to the Holy Spirit in the New Testament, just as it is not applied to either the Father or the Son, but it cannot be thought inappropriate, provided it is not taken in a literal, or human sense. For the relations between Them closely _resemble_ those between human persons, as They love one another, speak to one another, and use the personal pronouns I, Thou, He, and We. (3.) _Three Divine Persons and yet but One God._ It is clear, then, from the New Testament, that the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit are all Persons, and all Divine; and yet the fact of there being but one God is at times plainly asserted.[467] Now the only means of reconciling all this is by the doctrine of the Trinity in Unity. And this is plainly hinted at in the New Testament itself, for the Three Persons are often closely associated together, as for instance in the text just alluded to, where _Christ_ prays _the Father_ to give His disciples _another Comforter_. [Footnote 467: Mark 12. 29; 1 Cor. 8. 4.] Quite naturally, then, just before His Ascension, Christ completed this earlier teaching by finally, and for ever, joining the Three Persons together, when He commanded Christians to be baptized _into the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost_.[468] And this alone is sufficient to prove the doctrine, for it shows that there are _Three_ distinct Persons, and that each is _Divine_, for who but God could be thus associated with God? While the expression into the _name_ and not _names_, implies a unity in this Trinity. [Footnote 468: Matt. 28. 19.] And we happen to have indirect evidence from the _Acts_, that baptism was administered in this way. For when St. Paul found some disciples, who said they knew nothing about the Holy Ghost; he at once asked, 'Into what then were ye _baptized_?'[469] Obviously, then, the baptism to which St. Paul was accustomed must have been into the name of the Holy Ghost, as well as into that of Christ; and the Father's name could scarcely have been omitted. Yet immediately afterwards we are told that they were baptized _into the Name of the Lord Jesus_. In the same way the 'Teaching of the Twelve' once speaks of baptism as _into the Name of the Lord_; and twice as _into the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost_.[470] The former seems to have been only a short way of describing Christian baptism, (in distinction from that of the Jews, or of St. John the Baptist), while the latter represented the actual words used.[471] [Footnote 469: Acts 19. 3.] [Footnote 470: Teaching, chaps. vii. and ix.] [Footnote 471: _Comp._ Acts 2. 38; 8. 16; 18. 25; I Cor. 10. 2.] Similarly St. Paul sometimes closes his Epistles with the shorter form of blessing. _The grace of the Lord Jesus Christ be with you_; once with an intermediate form, naming the Father and Christ; and once with the longer form, _The Grace of the Lord Jesus Christ, and the love of God, and the communion of the Holy Ghost be with you all_.[472] This latter passage, the genuineness of which is undisputed, is of course extremely important, in fact like the preceding one it is practically conclusive; for again we must ask, who but God could be thus associated with God? If Christ were a mere human prophet, like Isaiah for instance; and the Holy Spirit a mere influence for good; what strange language it would be. Can we imagine anyone blessing his converts with, The grace of Isaiah, the love of God, and the fellowship of a holy influence--God, it will be noticed, being placed _between_ the other two, so there can be no ascending or descending scale, they must all be equal? [Footnote 472: 1 Cor. 16. 23; Gal. 6. 18; Eph. 6. 23; 2 Cor. 13. 14.] And as St. Paul takes for granted that his readers would understand his meaning, it implies that they had had some previous teaching on the subject, which must clearly have been given them by St. Paul himself on his first visit. And at that early date (about A.D. 50) such teaching could scarcely have originated except from what Christ Himself had taught. This passage, then, implies more than it says, and needs explanation; and as far as we know the former one alone can explain it. And of course the same is true, though to a lesser degree, of numerous other Trinitarian passages which occur all through the Epistles, including the earliest (1 Thess., about A.D. 50).[473] Nowhere do the writers seem to be explaining anything new to their converts; but merely to be touching on a truth, with which all Christians were of course familiar. Indeed, the very fact of their never attempting to explain or defend the doctrine, shows conclusively that it did not originate with _them_. Persons do not preach a new doctrine without a word of explanation or comment, as if every one already believed it. [Footnote 473: _E.g._, Rom. 15. 30; Eph. 4. 4-6; 1 Thess. 1. 3-5; 1 Peter 1. 2; Jude 20-21.] Thus, to put it shortly, according to the New Testament, there are _Three_ distinct Persons; each is God, each is Lord, each is Eternal, each is Omniscient, into the Name of each converts are baptized, each is referred to in Blessing; and yet there is but _One_ God. This is what the Bible says, and the Creed says the same, though it says it in more logical language. (_B._) THE FINAL STATE OF THE WICKED. We pass on now to what is perhaps the most difficult of all subjects, the final state of the wicked. The Creed asserts that all men are to rise again with their bodies, and be judged according to their _works_; and that then, _they that have done good shall go into life everlasting; and they that have done evil into everlasting fire_. This latter expression can scarcely be taken literally, since it is associated in the Bible with another--_the worm that dieth not_--which cannot be literal, as worms do not live for ever, and cannot live at all in fire. While it is said to have been prepared for evil spirits who have no material bodies. Moreover, the joys of heaven are also represented by terms which are clearly not literal; such as attending a wedding, feasting with Abraham, and wearing crowns. Probably we are not at present able to understand the realities in either case, so figures of some kind have to be used; and those associated with gladness and happiness are of course chosen for the one, and those with pain and woe for the other. But the language certainly implies some form of _endless misery_; and as there are obvious difficulties in accepting such a view, we must discuss the subject carefully. It may be pointed out at starting that we have only three theories to choose from; for unless the wicked are to be in a continual state of change, which seems almost incredible (for a state of change cannot go on for ever, unless it is recurring) they must finally either exist for ever in _misery_, or exist for ever in _happiness_, or be _destroyed_, and not exist for ever. (1.) _Their endless misery._ It would be difficult to exaggerate the strength of the texts in favour of this. We are told that the wicked, or at all events some of them, are to awake to shame and everlasting contempt; that they are to be cast into the eternal fire; that they are to depart into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels; that they are to go away into _eternal punishment_; that they are guilty of an eternal sin; that their worm dieth not and the fire is not quenched; and that they are to be cast into the lake of fire, there to be tormented day and night for ever and ever.[474] The fourth of these texts is perhaps the most important, since Christ uses the same word for _eternal_ punishment as for _eternal_ life; therefore, though the Greek word does not necessarily mean _endless_, it certainly seems to do so here. Similarly in Daniel the same Hebrew word is used for the _everlasting_ life of the righteous, as for the _everlasting_ contempt of the wicked. Moreover the doctrine is _implied_ in numerous other passages;[475] so altogether the New Testament teaching on the subject seems about as plain as it can be. [Footnote 474: Dan. 12. 2; Matt. 18. 8; 25. 41, 46; Mark 3. 29; 9. 48; Rev. 14. 11; 20. 15.] [Footnote 475: _E.g._, Matt. 7. 13, 23; 8. 12; 10. 33; 12. 32; 13. 42, 50, etc.] Yet everyone must admit that there are great difficulties in accepting it. For the _endless misery_ of the wicked appears to be inconsistent with the great attributes of God, especially His power, His justice, and His mercy; as well as with the endless happiness of the righteous. We will consider these points in turn. And first as to God's _power_. The eternal existence of sinners against God means, it is said, a never-ending conflict between good and evil; and this is most improbable. No doubt it seems so, but then the existence of evil at all is a difficulty; yet as shown in Chapter V. it is essential for free will. And the final state of the wicked is but one out of many difficulties connected with human freedom. That God could create a free man at all; that He could foresee how he would use his freedom; that He should allow him to use it wrongly, thus involving himself and others in misery; and that this misery should last for ever; are all to a great extent beyond our comprehension. But as the first three must be admitted, the last is certainly not incredible. The second and commonest objection refers to God's _justice_. The suffering, it is said, would be out of all proportion to the offence. Man's life is brief at the most, and every sin in this world cannot deserve countless years of misery in the next. In short, a man's sin here must anyhow be finite, while endless misery, however slight, would be infinite. But very possibly, being sinners ourselves, we do not realise the magnitude of sin, more especially its far-reaching and _permanent_ effect on the character of others, who in their turn may influence others also, and so on indefinitely. In this way the consequences of even a single sin may be _endless_, and therefore infinite, and if so its guilt may be infinite too. And this also agrees with the analogy of nature. For in nature nothing is forgotten, and even a small act, like planting a flower has (almost) endless consequences, since the ground will _never_ be exactly the same as if it had not been planted. Moreover, we need not assume that endless misery is for a man's sins here only. Why may not the wicked go on sinning for ever? They must certainly have the power of doing so, for the option of acting, or at all events of thinking right or wrong, is essential to free will; and if we deny them their free will, they are no longer men but mere machines. And it even seems probable that they would do so; for all our experience of human character is that it tends to a final permanence, of good or bad, which nothing can alter. By doing good, men become good--evil gradually loses its influence over them. And then, when their character is fixed, they will cease to be _attracted_ by evil; and they will in consequence remain (and this without any effort or struggle on their part) for ever good, and therefore for ever happy. Similarly with regard to the wicked. By committing sin men become sinful, and then, when their character is fixed, they may remain for ever sinful, and therefore for ever miserable. In each case the man's conduct will be always _free_; but his character, and therefore the use which he makes of his freedom, will have become fixed. And perhaps one of the strongest motives for leading a good life here, and thus forming a good character, is the knowledge that, whether good or bad, it will be _our_ character for all eternity. No doubt it is an overwhelming thought that a man's endless happiness, or misery should depend on his short probation in this world; yet as he is given free will with the option of choosing one or the other, there is nothing _unjust_ in the results being so permanent. And it entirely agrees with God's methods in nature, where, for instance, the shape of a tree for centuries is fixed during the short time it is growing. Nor does the fact of God's _foreknowledge_ as to how each man will act alter the case or cause any injustice, since, as said in Chapter II., it does not interfere with man's freedom. God merely foreknows the use man will make of his freedom. Therefore His knowing beforehand that a man will commit a murder does not make it unjust to punish him for doing so. And the same rule applies universally; so that although God foreknows that the wicked will be lost, they will not be lost _because_ God foreknows it. They will be lost because of their own wilful abuse of their own free will; and God foreknows both this, and its consequences. The third objection refers to God's _mercy_. Surely, it is said, God would never punish men unless there were a chance of improving them; so it is incredible that He should go on punishing them for ever. But perhaps the future misery of the wicked may not be a punishment at all, in the sense of being inflicted by God; it may be the necessary result of their own acts,--the _consequence_ rather than the punishment of sin. Or if we still use the word punishment, we may say that they will be punished, not so much for doing what they have done, as by being what they have become. It will be _according to_ their works rather than _because_ of them.[476] [Footnote 476: Matt. 16. 27; Rom. 2. 6.] And there is much to be said in favour of this view, since it is the way in which God punishes men in this world. Suppose, for instance, a man repeatedly gives way to drink, he will have the natural punishment (which is really God's punishment, Who is the Author of Nature) of being what he has become, an habitual drunkard, and very possibly miserable for the rest of his life. It is the necessary consequence of his sin; and the extent of his misery will, as a rule, be in exact proportion to the extent of his sin. Therefore, if a man is to suffer hereafter for other sins, we should expect this suffering to come in the same way; and to be the natural, and perhaps unavoidable, consequence of the sin itself. Nor is it difficult to suggest how this may be. For the endless misery of the wicked may be to a great extent mental, rather than bodily--_shame and everlasting contempt_, as Daniel calls it. They may be tormented by remorse and regret at having made themselves unfit to share in the joys of heaven. And until we know the greatness of those joys, we cannot know the greatness of this suffering. But if the joys of heaven are endless, and if the existence of the wicked outside heaven is also endless, it must plainly be an _endless_ source of misery. While, in conclusion, the fact that it is the same Christ who has taught us (more than anyone else) the mercy and love of God, who has also taught us the endless misery of the wicked, is an additional reason for thinking that the two cannot really be inconsistent. The fourth and last objection refers to _man_ rather than God. It is that the endless misery of the wicked would destroy the happiness of the righteous; for how could a man enjoy heaven if he knew that his own father and mother were in endless and hopeless misery elsewhere? Of course, if we deny him his memory, and say he does not remember them, it destroys his identity, and for all practical purposes, he is a different man. I have not met with any satisfactory answer to this difficulty. But it may be pointed out that if he knows his parents' fate, he will certainly know their character too, and that their fate was deserved. And this may alter his feelings in regard to them, as it often does now, if we find that one of our friends has behaved in a mean, and disgraceful manner. Reviewing all these objections, it must be admitted that the endless misery of the wicked seems improbable, but it is certainly not _incredible_. For, to put it shortly, our knowledge of human nature convinces us that, out of a large number of wicked men, some at all events will continue to be wicked, _i.e._ to commit sin as long as they live. Hence, if they live for ever, they will sin for ever. And if they sin for ever, it is not only just, but perhaps inevitable, that they should be miserable for ever. And if so, the endless misery of the wicked does not reflect on either the power, justice, or mercy of God, and, as said above, is certainly not incredible. (2.) _Their endless happiness._ We pass on now to the next theory, that of their _endless happiness_. According to this, all the wicked (after some suitable punishment) will at last be reconciled to God, and in popular language, go to heaven. And there are several texts which are more or less in favour of this view.[477] But how are we to reconcile these with the far stronger ones before alluded to? The most probable explanation is that they are merely general statements, indicating the final destiny of the vast majority of mankind, but that there are exceptions to this as to most other rules. And the Creed nowhere implies that most men will be lost; it may be only a few obstinate sinners. [Footnote 477: _E.g._, Col. 1. 20; 1 Tim. 4. 10; 1 John 2. 2; Rev. 5. 13.] Moreover, we cannot think that the wicked will be allowed to go on sinning in heaven, so if they go there, they must finally cease to commit sin. Many may do this voluntarily, but what about the remainder? If they _must_ finally forsake sin, whether they like it or not, it destroys their free will, and leads to _compulsory goodness_, which is very like a contradiction in terms. For goodness cannot be ascribed to mere machines without free will, which only act under compulsion; yet on this theory the men would be nothing more. In fact, the wicked _men_ would in reality have been destroyed, and a good piece of mechanism created instead; which scarcely seems a probable theory. Then there is this further difficulty: what is to become of the evil angels? If we have to admit endless misery for these, why not for man? Yet the Bible gives no hint that the Devil will in the end be reconciled to God, and go to heaven. (3.) _Their destruction._ Lastly, as to the other and only possible alternative, the _destruction_ of the wicked. This may be better described as their failure to obtain everlasting life; which is here regarded not as the attribute of all men, but as being _conditional_ on a man's fulfilling certain duties and developing a certain character in this life. And the wicked, not having done this, will eventually be destroyed and cease to exist. Numerous texts can be quoted in favour of this theory.[478] And it is also supported by the analogy of nature: for if an organism or a species is a failure, it eventually _ceases to exist_; it is not kept alive for ever as a disfigurement to the world. [Footnote 478: _E.g._, John 6. 51; Rom. 6. 23; Matt. 10. 28.] This theory, no doubt, presents less moral difficulties than either of the others, but it is not free from them. For are the wicked to be _punished_ after death previous to their destruction? If they are not, justice is not satisfied; and while excessive punishment seems a reflection on God's character, no punishment at all for sinners who have been successful in this world, seems equally so. Yet, on the other hand, any punishment which precedes destruction seems merely vindictive, and of no possible use. Each of these theories, then, appears improbable, but the _endless misery_ of the wicked is scarcely more so than the others, and therefore, as it is the one most strongly supported by the Bible, we seem bound to accept it. One remark may however be made in conclusion, and it brings a little comfort into this saddest of all truths. It is that whatever doubt may exist as to the future state of the wicked, of one thing we may be quite sure--that their punishment will not be in excess of what they deserve. They will be treated fairly; and every merciful allowance will be made for circumstances, including the inherent weakness of human nature. Christianity indeed seems to emphasise this more than any other religion, since men are to be judged not by the Father, but by the Son; apparently for this very reason that, being Man, He can sympathise with human weakness.[479] And after the judgment, persons will enjoy heaven just in proportion as their lives on earth have rendered them capable of doing so, while the misery of the lost will also be in exact proportion to what they deserve. [Footnote 479: John 5. 27.] (_C._) THE IMPORTANCE OF A TRUE BELIEF. The last doctrine to be considered is the importance of a True Belief, that is of believing the _truth_ in regard to matters of religion. This is strongly insisted on in the _warning clauses_ of the Athanasian Creed; so we will first consider their meaning, then their truthfulness, and lastly, the objection as to dogmatism. (1.) _Their meaning._ Before discussing this, it may be pointed out that they are often called the _damnatory_ or _uncharitable_ clauses; but both these terms are somewhat misleading. For the Creed does not condemn anyone by these clauses, it merely declares that certain persons will be condemned by God, which is a very different thing. No one desires their condemnation, but the contrary; therefore, believing the danger to be a fact, it is stated in the hope that persons will in consequence avoid it. An analogy may help to illustrate this distinction. Suppose a despotic ruler in some island were to put up a notice that anyone walking along a certain part of the coast would be arrested and shot; this might well be called uncharitable. But now, suppose the notice was that, owing to their being quicksands along that part of the coast, anyone walking there would be drowned; this might be untrue, but it could scarcely be called uncharitable. So in regard to the Creed. Its warnings (whether true or false) are in no sense uncharitable; and it no more _consigns men to perdition_ (as it is sometimes called) for denying the faith, than a doctor consigns men to die of fever for drinking bad water. In each case they merely state what they believe will (unfortunately) be the result. Its warnings are also quite different from the _Let him be anathema_ of St. Paul, as well as from some of the Psalms, where the writer does not merely state that the wicked will be miserable, but prays that they may be so.[480] This no doubt seems uncharitable, but there is nothing like it in the Creed. [Footnote 480: _E.g._, Gal. 1. 8-9; Ps. 69.] What the Creed says is that holding, or _holding fast_,[481] the Catholic Faith, especially the doctrines of the Trinity and the Incarnation, is necessary to salvation (vv. 1, 28, 29, 42); and that those who do _not_ keep (or hold fast) this Faith will _perish_ everlastingly (v. 2). The word _keep_, it should be noticed, implies previous possession, since a man cannot keep what he never had; so these verses are inapplicable to heathens, infidels, or even nominal Christians who have never really held the Faith. They refer only to apostates--to those who, having once held the Faith, do not _keep_ it. [Footnote 481: It is so translated in the revised version, issued in November, 1909, by a Committee, under the Archbishop of Canterbury.] Moreover, there can be little doubt that the apostasy here referred to was not that due to intellectual doubt, but to giving way, _under persecution_. For the Gothic conquerors of Southern Europe, where the Creed was composed about the fifth century, were _Arians_, and they much persecuted the Catholics. So a statement of what the Catholic Faith really was (in opposition to Arianism) might well contain warnings as to the great danger of abandoning it under trial and persecution. In the same way Christ warned His followers that if they denied Him before men, He would also deny them before His Father. And a time of persecution is distinctly implied in the Creed itself. For in ver. 30 we are told that it is not enough to believe the faith, it must be publicly _confessed_; and even in ver. 1, the _holding_ or _holding fast_, suggests a temptation to surrender. Compare the passage: _Thou holdest fast my name, and didst not deny my faith_:[482] where in the Latin translation (the Vulgate) the same word is used for _hold fast_, as occurs in the Creed. [Footnote 482: Rev. 2. 13, 25; 3. 11; 2 Tim. 1. 13.] Next as to the meaning of to _perish_. This is no doubt much disputed, both here, and in the similar passage in the Gospel, where Christ says that all who believe on Him shall _not perish, but have eternal (or everlasting) life_; which certainly implies that those who disbelieve, or cease to believe, _shall_ perish, and shall _not_ have everlasting life, _i.e._, shall perish everlastingly.[483] But whatever Christ meant by these words, the Creed means too, neither more nor less. Taken by themselves, they seem to point to the destruction of the wicked; or perhaps only to their failure to obtain the joys of heaven, without actually ceasing to exist. [Footnote 483: John 3. 16.] But however this may be, one thing is plain; that, according to the Creed, those who have been taught the truth about God, (_i.e._, the Catholic Faith), must both _lead a good life_, (fighting against sin, etc.), and also _hold fast_, or _keep this faith_, if they wish to be saved. And St. Paul evidently regarded these as the two essentials; for at the close of his life, he rejoiced because he had _fought the good fight_, and _kept the faith_.[484] [Footnote 484: 2 Tim. 4. 7.] (2.) _Their truthfulness._ Having thus shown what the warning clauses actually mean, we have next to consider whether they are true. Now, it is plain from the nature of the case that we can know nothing on such a subject, except what is revealed by God. Is then, this doctrine stated or implied in the New Testament? Certainly it is, since belief in Christ is everywhere laid down as _necessary_ to salvation. He is not one Saviour among many, nor is Christianity one means among many of getting to heaven. But Christianity is always represented as the _only_ means, and Christ as the _only_ Saviour. We have already alluded to one text on this subject, that about the _perishing_; and we will now quote five others, each from a different writer, thus showing that the doctrine was not peculiar to any one Apostle or Evangelist. We are told then, that while he that believeth and is baptized shall be saved, he that disbelieveth shall be condemned; that unless men believe in Christ they shall die in their sins; that His is the only Name under heaven wherein men can be saved; that public confession of Him as Lord, together with belief in His Resurrection, leads to salvation; and that His Blood alone can redeem us from our sins.[485] [Footnote 485: Mark 16. 16; John 8. 24; Acts 4. 12; Rom. 10. 9; 1 Pet. 1. 19.] And the early Christians acted in entire accordance with this. When, for instance, the gaoler at Philippi asked St. Paul, _What must I do to be saved?_ the answer was, _Believe on the Lord Jesus, and thou shalt be saved_.[486] Repentance, baptism, and amendment of life, would of course follow in due time; but first of all, before all other things, it was necessary that he should _believe in Christ_. This was the great essential. [Footnote 486: Acts 16. 31.] Now it is obvious that the belief in Christ, which is thus everywhere insisted on, must mean believing the truth about Christ, and not a false belief. If, then, the statements in the Creed represent the truth about Christ, as we have shown they do, then belief in these is necessary to salvation. And the Bible, like the Creed, expressly says that the great and fundamental truth about Christ, which we must both believe and _confess_, is His Incarnation, that He _is come in the flesh_.[487] And this involves His relationship to God the Father, and the doctrine of the Trinity. Thus the warning clauses as to the importance of a true belief, especially in regard to these two great doctrines, seem fully justified. [Footnote 487: 1 John 4. 2-3.] Three further remarks may be made before leaving this subject. The first is that the Creed is addressed to _Christians_ only. This is clear from its opening sentence, _Quicunque vult salvus esse_, which means literally, 'Whoever _wishes_ to be saved'; and this takes for granted that the persons addressed have heard of salvation. And, as we have shown, the following words, that they must _hold fast_ or _keep_ the Faith, also imply that they have been already taught it. The Creed cannot therefore be held to refer to any but Christians, no matter how general the language may be. Secondly, among Christians the Creed is meant chiefly for _theologians_. This is plain from its technical language, which is so worded as to prevent a recurrence of several old errors. And it seems only fair to assume that children and unlearned persons belonging to a Church holding these doctrines would be considered as believing them. But though a child's belief,[488] which is merely trust and love, may be sufficient _for a child_, something more may reasonably be expected from well-instructed Christians. And this is that they should believe these doctrines _rightly_ (v. 29), though this is a most unfortunate translation of the Latin word _fideliter_, as it seems to connect it with the _right_ faith (_fides recta_) of the following verse. It would be better rendered by _faithfully_, as it is in v. 24, or _heartily_. Thus a _heartfelt belief_ in the doctrines of the Trinity and the Incarnation--a belief which leads at once to _worship_, for 'the Catholic Faith is that we _worship_ one God':--is what the Creed says is so essential. [Footnote 488: Matt. 18. 6.] Lastly, all these statements, like so many passages in the Bible,[489] are only _general rules_; to which there are often some exceptions. And in the present case, we may feel sure (from other passages)[490] that God will make exceptions, wherever unbelief or misbelief has not been due to a person's own fault. Our conclusion, then, as to the _warning clauses_ is this; that if the other statements of the Creed are _true_ (as we have shown they are), these clauses do not present any great difficulty. [Footnote 489: _E.g._, 1 Cor. 6. 12.] [Footnote 490: _E.g._, 1 Tim. 1. 13.] (3.) _The objection as to dogmatism._ An important objection has still to be considered. It is that the Athanasian Creed _dogmatises_ too much. Granting, it is said, that all its doctrines are contained in the New Testament, yet why not be content with the _simpler_ statements in the Apostles' and Nicene Creeds? These were _sufficient_ for the Church for several centuries, so why not leave other matters open for discussion, instead of treating them as _closed questions_? We will consider these points in turn. And first as to _dogmatism_; by which is meant the exact statement of any truth. Now on all other subjects which influence our conduct, such as diseases or science, it is admitted to be of great importance that we should know the truth, and act accordingly. Why, then, should it be thought that in Religion alone this is immaterial, and that a false Creed is as good as the true one, if a man honestly believes it? Moreover, a certain amount of dogmatism in matters of Religion seems essential. No one can intelligently serve or pray to a God of Whose Nature he has formed no idea, and the moment he begins to form such an idea he is involved in difficulties. Take for example what some will consider a very simple prayer, _May God forgive my sins for Christ's sake_. Who, we may ask, is God; who is Christ; what is the relation between them; why should One be asked to forgive for the sake of the Other; and what would happen if the sins were not forgiven? Such difficulties cannot be avoided; and if the statements in the Athanasian Creed are their true explanation, the more clearly this is stated the better. In the next place, it is very doubtful whether the earlier Creeds are _simpler_ and more easy to believe than the Athanasian. To a thoughtful reader it may well seem otherwise. For example, referring to the Trinity, the Apostles' Creed teaches us to believe in God the Father, in His Son Jesus Christ, and in the Holy Ghost, but it does not attempt to answer the simplest questions concerning Them. Are They, for instance, all three Persons? if so, are They all three Divine? and if so, are They three Gods? And the Nicene Creed is even more puzzling, for it first says that there is one God the Father, and soon afterwards that the Son is also God. So in regard to the Holy Spirit, He is called the Lord, yet it has been already stated that there is only one Lord Jesus Christ. How can all this be reconciled? And much the same applies to the future state of the wicked. The two earlier Creeds speak of the life everlasting (for the good), but what is to become of the bad? These and many other questions are suggested by the earlier Creeds, and answered by the Athanasian. And to many it seems easier to believe the Creed which answers difficulties, than those which merely suggest them. And it was for this very purpose of answering difficulties, not making them, that the Athanasian Creed was composed. Its object was not to assert any new doctrines, or to suggest that those previously received were not _sufficient_, but merely to explain them, and to prevent them from being misunderstood. All the doctrines, as we have seen, are contained in the New Testament, and they were in consequence always believed by Christians. But it was not till after much controversy that men learnt to express this belief with clearness and precision. Lastly, as to these doctrines being _closed questions_. They are closed questions in much the same way as the fact that the earth goes round the sun, and not the sun round the earth, is a closed question in astronomy. That is to say, they have been thoroughly discussed, and (to those who believe the New Testament) the evidence in their favour is overwhelming. Of course anyone may go over the proofs again for himself, and if he wants to have an intelligent belief he should do so; but as a rule of conduct the subject cannot be re-opened. And it should be noticed that the Church, in thus treating certain questions as closed for its members, is only acting as other societies would do. Would a society of engineers, for instance, allow one of its members to construct an iron bridge on the supposition that the expansion of iron by heat was an open question; which he might, or might not, think worth allowing for? Or would a society of doctors allow one of its members to attend patients if he asserted that whether scarlet fever was infectious or not was an open question; which each patient might decide for himself? In short, well-ascertained truth, or what is believed to be such, in every department of knowledge is looked upon as a closed question; and it must remain so, unless some important fresh evidence is produced. But with regard to the Creeds, no fresh evidence can be produced, unless God were to give a fresh Revelation; so, from the nature of the case, they are closed questions in an even stricter sense than ascertained truths on other subjects. This concludes a brief examination of the doctrines of the Three Creeds, and, as we have seen, they are all either contained in, or logically deducible from, the New Testament. CHAPTER XXV. THAT THE TRUTH OF THE CHRISTIAN RELIGION IS EXTREMELY PROBABLE. (_A._) THE EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. One remaining objection, why are there so many difficulties, and no more obvious proof? considered in detail. (_B._) SUMMARY AND CONCLUSION. We have now examined all the more important arguments for and against the Truth of Christianity. Many of them, as we have seen, involve a good deal of study, and we have often been obliged to consider a few examples only of various classes of facts; but it is hoped that no important argument on either side has been entirely overlooked. One remaining objection has still to be considered. (_A._) THE EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. Does not, it is urged, this very fact of itself form a difficulty? Can an ordinary man be expected to ponder over arguments, objections, and counter-arguments by the dozen, even supposing the balance of probability to be in favour of the Religion? Surely, if Christianity were true, and God wished men to believe it, there would not be so many difficulties. He would have provided an easier way of proving it than this; or, at all events, if this elaborate argument were examined, the inference in its favour would be simply overwhelming. This is a difficulty felt perhaps by some who have read the present _Essay_; fortunately it can be answered satisfactorily. And first, as to there being so many difficulties. Several of these are simply due to the evidence in favour of Christianity being so strong. If, for instance, we had only one Gospel instead of four, the difficulties caused by the discrepancies between them would disappear, but the argument in favour of Christianity would not be strengthened in consequence. Still putting aside these, it must be admitted that there are many difficulties connected with the Religion. But what is the cause of this? It is the very magnitude of the Christian Religion which opens the way for so many attacks. A religion which claims to be the only true one in the world; to have been founded by God Himself; to have been prepared for by prophecies and introduced by miracles; to be the centre of the world's history, all previous history leading up to it, and all subsequent history being influenced by it; to be suitable for all ages and countries; to hold the key to all mental and moral problems; to be man's guide and comfort in this life, and his only hope for the next;--such a religion _must_ be assailable at a great many points. But provided all these assaults can be repelled, provided this long _frontier-line_, so to speak, can be properly defended, it does not show the weakness of the religion; on the contrary, it shows its enormous strength. A religion which made less claims would, no doubt, have less difficulties; but it would be less likely to be the true one. If God became Incarnate, no claims can be too vast for the Religion He founded. And to many, this unspeakable grandeur of Christianity, so far from being a difficulty, constitutes one of its greatest charms. Next, as to there being no _easier_ means of proof. It is a simple matter of fact that the vast majority of men, both educated and uneducated, who believe in Christianity, have not arrived at this belief by a long line of reasoning, such as we have examined. They assert that there is an easier way. They say that God has given them a faculty of _Faith_, which, though it may be hard to explain, just as man's free will is hard to explain, yet gives them the most certain conviction of the truth of Christianity. And starting with this inward conviction, they say it is confirmed by their daily experience, just as a man's belief in his free will is confirmed by his daily experience. Of course, this appeal to faith is no argument to those who do not possess it. On the other hand, to those who do possess it, no arguments can really weaken or strengthen it. It is a thing by itself, and absolutely convincing. It may be pointed out, however, that if man is a partly spiritual as well as a partly material being, which we have already admitted; then the existence of some spiritual sense, or faculty, by which to perceive spiritual truths, just as the body has material senses by which to perceive material objects, cannot be thought incredible. And this is what faith claims to be; it is a means to spiritual discernment, and may be compared to eyesight. It does not enable us to believe what we might otherwise think to be untrue; but it enables us to know for certain, what we might otherwise think to be only probable (_e.g._, the existence of God). In the same way a blind man might, by feeling, think it probable that there were a certain number of pictures in a room, but if he could _see_, he would know for certain. And, just as a man, who had always been blind, ought not to reject the testimony of those who see, so a man who has no faith ought not to reject the testimony of those who have. And the existence of such a faculty will account for the very different views taken of Christianity by men of apparently equal intelligence and candour. Still, it may be asked, why should some persons be given this faculty of faith, while others are not? The subject is no doubt a difficult one. But very possibly the faculty is _latent_ in every one, only it needs (like other faculties) to be exercised and developed. And the man himself may be responsible for whether he takes suitable means (prayer, etc.) for doing this. However, we need not pursue this subject, since, as said above, no arguments can prove, or disprove Christianity to those who believe by faith. But now comes the most important part of the objection. Granting, it is said, that the subject is a difficult one, and demands a long investigation, yet when we do go through the arguments on both sides the conclusion is not irresistible. In short, why are not the evidences in favour of Christianity _stronger_? Of course they might be so, but we have no reason for thinking that they would be. In our ordinary daily life we have never absolute certainty to guide us, but only various degrees of probability. And even, in Natural Religion, the reasons for believing in a Personal God and the freedom and responsibility of man, though to most people quite convincing, are certainly not irresistible; since, as a matter of fact, some men resist them. And if God intends us to act on such evidence in common life, and also with regard to the great truths of Natural Religion, why should He not do the same with regard to Christianity? He seems, if we may use the word, to _respect_ man's momentous attribute of free will even in matters of Religion; therefore in His sight a right belief, like right conduct, may be of no value unless it is more or less voluntary. It is to be a virtue, rather than a necessity. And this fully accounts for the evidences of Christianity not being overwhelming. They are amply sufficient to justify anyone in believing it; but they are not, and were probably never meant to be, sufficient to compel him to do so. If, however,--and this is a matter of practical importance--they are strong enough to show that the Religion is _probably_ true, a man who admits this is obviously bound to accept it. He cannot adopt a neutral attitude, because the evidence is not conclusive; since, as just said, in every other subject we have only probability, not certainty, to guide us; and why should religion alone be different? Then, if he accepts it, he is obviously bound to try and live accordingly, no matter what the sacrifice may be; for Christianity, if it is worth anything, is worth everything. Such tremendous truths cannot be half acted on if believed, any more than they can be half believed; it must be a case of all for all. And then, if he tries to live accordingly, he may find (as Christians in all ages have found) that for himself the probability becomes a certainty. Lastly, it may be pointed out that though perhaps the evidences of Christianity are not so strong as we should expect, they are precisely of such a _kind_ as we should expect; for they exhibit each of the three great attributes of God. His Omnipotence is shown in the miracles, His Omniscience in the prophecies, and His perfect Goodness in the Character of Christ; so that, judged by its evidences, Christianity is a Religion which might very reasonably have come from the God Who is All-Powerful, All-Wise, and All-Good. (_B._) SUMMARY AND CONCLUSION. It now only remains to give a summary of the previous chapters, and then point out the final choice of difficulties. In Chapter XIII. we considered the _credibility_ of the Christian Religion, and decided that some of its leading doctrines, especially those of the Incarnation and the Atonement, seemed very improbable. All that can be said on the other side is practically this, that we have no adequate means of judging; and that when we apply similar reasoning to subjects about which we do know, such as the freedom of man or the existence of evil, it generally leads us wrong. But still the fact remains that the Religion appears, at first sight, very improbable. In Chapter XIV. we considered the _external testimony_ to the _Four Gospels_, and decided that this was very strongly in their favour. At the close of the second century they held the same position among Christians as they do at present; during the middle of that century Justin shows that they were publicly read, together with the Old Testament Prophets; while the few earlier writers whose works have come down to us also seem to have known them. In Chapter XV. we considered their _internal evidence_, and found that it strongly supported the above conclusion; so combining the two, we have an almost overwhelming argument in favour of their genuineness. In Chapter XVI. we considered an additional argument of great importance, derived from the _Acts of the Apostles_. There are strong reasons for dating this book about A.D. 60; and if so it proves a still earlier date for the first three Gospels. In Chapter XVII. we considered the _Resurrection of Christ_, and the accounts we have of it in the Four Gospels. And we decided that these Narratives, in spite of some obvious discrepancies and omissions had every appearance of being thoroughly trustworthy. Indeed their complete agreement in important points, their mutual explanations, and their signs of early date are all strongly in their favour. In Chapter XVIII. we considered the testimony of the First Witnesses, and examined in detail their veracity, knowledge, investigation, and reasoning; and each seemed to be supported by irresistible evidence. Therefore the opposite theories, which are based on denying these points, and are called respectively the _Falsehood_, the _Legend_, the _Vision_, and the _Swoon_ Theory, are quite untenable. So we must either accept the Resurrection of Christ; or deny it, in spite of all the evidence, and solely because of the miraculous nature of the event. In Chapter XIX. we considered the other New Testament _Miracles_, and came to the conclusion that they also occurred. Indeed their marks of truthfulness, and their publicity together with the fact that they were never disputed at the time, make the evidence in their favour extremely strong. In Chapter XX. we considered the argument from _Prophecy_; and discussed in detail Isaiah's Prophecy of the Lord's Servant, and the Psalm of the Crucifixion, and then glanced at several others. And we pointed out how completely these prophecies were fulfilled in Christ, and how utterly hopeless it was to find any other fulfilment of them. So here again the choice lies between either accepting these prophecies, or disputing them simply because they are prophecies, and imply superhuman knowledge. In other words, we must either admit the marvel of a Divine Revelation, or else we must face the _mental_ difficulty of believing that all these coincidences were due to chance, the improbability of which can scarcely be calculated. In Chapter XXI. we considered the _Character of Christ_; and the admitted excellence of His moral teaching seems quite inconsistent with deliberate falsehood on His part. Yet He kept asserting His superhuman and Divine Nature, and was finally put to death in consequence. So here once more we have a similar choice before us. We must either accept the Divinity of Christ, with all the wonders it involves; or else we must face the _moral_ difficulty of believing that the best moral teaching the world has ever had, was given by One, whose own life was full of falsehood and presumption. In Chapter XXII. we considered the _History of Christianity_, and found that its marvellous progress at first, in spite of its immense difficulties, and without the use of any force, could only be accounted for by its truth. So here for the last time we have the same alternatives to choose from. We must either admit the supernatural origin and spread of Christianity; or else we must face the _historical_ difficulty of believing that its first preachers were able to convince men without evidence, conquer them without force, and found the greatest religion the world has ever seen on claims which at the time everyone must have known to be untrue. In Chapter XXIII. we considered the _other evidence_ on the subject, and briefly examined various arguments for and against Christianity, such as its connection with prayer; its adaptation to human nature, and its relation to other religions; but all of comparative unimportance. Lastly, in Chapter XXIV. we decided that the _Three Creeds_ were deducible from the New Testament; so the religion which has all this evidence in its favour is the _Christian Religion_, as we have used the term. From the above summary it will be seen that the arguments against Christianity are all what may be called _antecedent_ (or _a priori_) ones. The Religion itself, its doctrines, its claims, its miraculous origin, all seem most improbable. Thus the objections to Christianity all lie on the surface. They are obvious and palpable to everyone. On the other hand, the arguments in its favour have often to be sought for; but when found they are seen to be stronger and stronger the more they are examined. There are four main arguments. These are of a widely different character, and each appeals most strongly to a certain class of minds, so each is often said to be the chief argument for Christianity, but they are probably of equal value. They may be conveniently called the argument from _Miracles_, including of course the Resurrection of Christ; from _Prophecy_; from _Christ's Character_; and from _History_. And it should be noticed in passing, that they mutually support one another. Miracles, for instance, are less difficult to believe when it is seen that they were to establish a religion which has for centuries exercised a greater influence on mankind than anything else; and prophecies become stronger when it is seen that the Life foretold was one that had such supreme and far-reaching effects. Now, it is important to remember that the actual facts on which these arguments rest are in each case absolutely _unique_. Once, and only once in the history of the world, have men appeared who asserted that they were actual witnesses of miracles, and who faced all forms of suffering and death solely in consequence of this. Again, once, and only once in the history of the world, has a long series of prophecies, uttered many centuries apart, united in a single Person, in whom they one and all find a complete fulfilment. Yet again, once, and only once in the history of the world, has a Man appeared of faultless moral character, who asserted that He was also God, and who boldly claimed all that this tremendous assertion involved, and submitted to the consequences. While, lastly, once, and only once in the history of the world, has a Religion, most improbable in itself, and without using any force, succeeded in conquering nation after nation. These, then, are the four chief arguments on the subject, and in every case we have the same choice before us. We must either face the antecedent (or _a priori_) difficulties in accepting Christianity, or the mental, moral and historical difficulties in rejecting it. There is no neutral ground, no possibility of avoiding both sets of difficulties. But the difficulties on the one side concern what we do _not_ know--God's purpose in creating man--and may be due to our ignorance only. The difficulties on the other side concern what we _do_ know. They are practical, they are derived from experience. We do know that men will not lay down their lives for what they believe to be false, and that the first preachers of Christianity must have known whether it was false or not. We do know that prophecies uttered at random through centuries would not all unite in a single Person. We do know that even moderately good men do not make extravagant claims. And we do know that no natural causes can account for such a religion as Christianity obtaining such a triumph as it did. The choice, then, seems to lie between what we may call _unknown_ difficulties and _known_ ones. The unknown difficulty of believing that the Eternal God could so love man as to humble Himself even to death to win man's love; and the known difficulty of believing that evidence so vast and so various, so cumulative and so apparently irresistible, could all unite in making a monstrous falsehood appear to be a momentous truth. Between these two sets of difficulties we have to make our choice. But to those who agree with the previous chapters, the choice cannot be doubtful; for however hard it is to believe Christianity, it is, as we have shown, harder still to disbelieve it. This, then, is our final conclusion, that the truth of the Christian religion is _extremely probable_, because, to put it shortly, though the difficulties of accepting Christianity are great, the difficulties of rejecting it are far greater. INDEX OF TEXTS. PAGE GENESIS. 1. 117 " 1 213 " 26 159, 393 2. 132 " 4 119 3. 22 159, 393 4. 13-17, 26 132 5. 1-2 134 6. 2-4 132 7. 11 126 " 21 132 7-8. 159 9. 13-14 127 11. 7 393 12. 3 205 " 6 160 " 16 141 13. 7 160 14. 22 213 18. 25 215 21. 33 213 22. 210 " 17 217 " 18 374 23. 2, 19 142 25. 18 143 26. 4 374 27. 8-13 208 33. 18 142 35. 6 142 36. 31-39 159 39. 1 139 " 9 215 40. 11, 19 140 " 15 156 41. 140 " 41 393 43. 27-28 143 " 32 139 46. 34 139 48. 3 142 49. 30 142 50. 3 139 EXODUS. 1. 11 144 " 14 144 2. 3 144 3. 14 405 4. 21 159 5. 12 144 " 23 165 7. 3 159 " 11, 22 182 " 14-25 157 " 19 145 8. 7, 18, 19 182 " 15, 32 210 9. 34 210 10. 1 159 " 3, 7 210 12. 12 146 " 25 153 " 37 171 13. 11 153 " 13 210 14. 4 209 " 21, 22 178 " 30 179 16. 36 160 17. 14 164 19. 5 206 20. 24 161 21. 2, 16 211 22. 29, 30 210 23. 4-5 211 23. 9 148 24. 4 164, 165 25. 3-10 148 " 13-18 147 29. 14 154 34. 20 210 " 27 164 LEVITICUS. 4. 12 154 6. 2 392 " 11 154 7. 1 380 " 38 151 11. 29 132 13. 46 154 14. 3 154 " 34 153 16. 1 151 " 19 380 " 26 154 17. 3 150, 154 18-20. 211 18. 20 392 " 21-28 209 19. 11, 15, 17 392 " 23 151 " 34 412 23. 10 153 24. 15 151 " 16 412 24. 19 392 25. 1 151 " 2 153 " 13 150 " 14, 15, 17 392 " 41 211 26. 33 190 26. 46 151 27. 28, 29 210 " 34 151 NUMBERS. 1. 171 " 1 151 " 21 171 " 47-4, 49 150 2. 10, 17 169 3. 14 151 " 29 169 5. 2 154 9. 1 151 " 10 151 11. 5 147 15. 2, 18 153 " 35 151 16. 169, 183 17. 2 147 18. 15 210 19. 3, 14 154 21. 14 159 23. 19 214 26. 171 " 11 170 27. 8 151 33. 165 " 2 164 " 4 146 " 50 151 35. 1 151 " 1-8 150 " 10 153 36. 8 151 " 13 164 DEUTERONOMY. 1. 3 151 " 37 165 2. 10-12 160 " 20-23 160 3. 8, 20, 25 156 " 14 160 " 23-26 165 4. 1, 5, 14 154 " 3-15 152 " 17 126 " 21 165 " 27 190 " 39 212 4. 46 151 5. 3 152 " 31 154 6. 1, 18 154 " 5 215 " 9 146 7. 1 153 " 2 163 " 15 148 " 22 163 8. 1 154 " 7-10 148 9. 5 209 11. 2-8 152 " 6 170 " 10-12 148 " 11 126 " 20 146 " 30 156 12. 1, 10, 29 153 " 5 161 " 21 150 " 31 210 13. 1-3 199 14. 2 216 17. 14 153 18. 6-8 162 " 9 153 " 22 199 20. 17 163 21. 23 377 24. 9, 18, 22 152 25. 17 152 26. 1 153 " 14 147 " 18 216 27. 2 146 28. 191 " 25, 64 190 " 37, 46, 48 190 " 60 148 29. 1 151 " 2-9 152 31. 2, 22, 24-26 165 " 9, 22, 24 164 32. 8 206 33. 27 123 JOSHUA. 1. 7, 8 160 3. 14-17 183 6. 6-20 183 6. 15 173 8. 31, 32 160 9. 1, 10 156 10. 12-14 179 12. 7 156 23. 26 160 24. 26 160 JUDGES. 3. 4 160 5. 4 127 6. 15 171 " 26 162 11. 39 210 20. 27, 28 160 21. 19 160 I. SAMUEL. 2. 12-30 160 3. 3 160 4. 4 160 6. 15 160 " 19 171 14. 3 160 15. 22 161 25. 16 178 II. SAMUEL. 7. 12-16 195 8. 16 173 10. 5 141 11. 24 386 12. 9 386 24. 18 162 I. KINGS. 2. 3 160 3. 2 161 6. 14-36 147 8. 27 213 9. 4, 5 195 10. 29 174 11. 31, 40 195 12. 24 195 13. 2 196 14. 15 196 17. 21 357 18. 27-40 183 " 27 212 " 32 162 20. 30 171 22. 43 161 II. KINGS. 2. 22 181 4. 6 181 5. 10-27 183 6. 6 181 7. 2 126 " 6 174 14. 6 160 15. 19 176 17. 6 177 18. 4-6 161 " 28-35 184 " 18 173 19. 10, 34 184 " 15-18 212 " 35 183, 184 20. 8-11 183, 196 " 17 196 21. 2, 21 163 22. 162 23. 15, 16 196 25. 3 177 I. CHRONICLES. 21. 12 184 28. 9 215 29. 11 213 II. CHRONICLES. 14. 8, 9 171 20. 6 206 32. 24, 31 197 34. 8 173 EZRA. 6. 12 393 7. 21 393 NEHEMIAH. 1. 8 190 9. 6 213 JOB. 10. 4, 5 120 11. 7 214 12. 10 213 16. 10 385 29. 9 376 34. 19 215 36. 26 213 37. 16 213 33. 8-11 127 PSALMS. 8. 3, 4 60 22. 384 22. 27 218 58. 4 134 69. 474 82. 6 412 86. 9 218 90. 2 213 115. 4-8 212 139. 2 213 " 7 213 147. 5 213 " 8-9 178 148. 6 214 PROVERBS. 15. 3 213 16. 4 213 30. 19 126 ECCLESIASTES. 12. 14 215 ISAIAH. 1. 4 378 6. 5-10 460 " 8 394 8. 4 196 9. 1-2 390 " 6 390 10. 21 390 11. 9 218 13. 4 134 " 19-22 187 14. 22, 23 187 28. 29 213 37. 16 206 38. 8 196 40. 3 407 " 10 377 41. 8 381 " 22 199 42. 1-6 382 44. 6 408 " 8 199 " 28 196 45. 7 213 " 15 214 46. 10 213 48. 3-5 199 " 12 213 49. 3-5 382 " 6-7 382 51. 9 377 52. 13-53, 12 376 JEREMIAH. 7. 22 161 8. 8 155 9. 16 190 14. 14 155 23. 24 213 24. 9 190 26. 8-16 196 29. 10 196 " 18 190 30. 11 190 31. 35-37 190 32. 17 213 50. 13, 39, 40 187 LAMENTATIONS. 4. 4 385 EZEKIEL. 11. 5 213 13. 7 155 22. 15 190 29. 11-13 189 " 15 188 30. 7, 13 189 34. 23 383 DANIEL. 3. 20-27 183 4. 6 393 5. 1 174 8. 1 174 9. 21 311 9. 26 196 11. 196 12. 2 465 HOSEA. 4. 4-6 160 6. 6 161 8. 1, 12, 13 160 9. 4 160 " 17 190 12. 9 160 JOEL. 2. 31 145 AMOS. 2. 4, 11 160 3. 6 213 4. 1 385 " 4, 5 160 5. 8 213 " 21-25 160 8. 5 160 9. 9 190 MICAH. 5. 2 391 NAHUM. 3. 7 187 " 8 178 ZEPHANIAH. 2. 11 218 2. 13-14 187 ZECHARIAH. 3. 8 383 9. 9 392 11. 12-13 392 12. 10 392 13. 7 392 14. 9 392 MALACHI. 3. 6 214 " 10 126 II. ESDRAS. 8. 3 262 MATTHEW. 1. 22 389 2. 1 318 3. 3 407 " 17 268 5. 3, 10 261 " 24 273 " 39 398 6. 14 401 7. 13, 23 465 7. 22 359, 403 8. 3 356 " 12 465 " 30-32 352 9. 9 275 " 33 361 " 34 367 10. 8 283 " 17, 22 433 " 28 472 " 32 403 " 33 465 11. 21-24 350 " 4 350 " 5 283 " 25-27 281 " 27 402 12. 24 367 " 31, 32 460 " 32 465 " 42 268 13. 41 402, 403 " 42, 50 465 " 58 358 14. 13 284 15. 26 386 16. 13-16 402 " 17 304 " 18 433 " 21 317 " 27 403, 468 " 28 273 18. 6 478 " 8 465 " 20 404 19. 12 399 " 26 32 " 28 403 20. 28 402 21. 43 273 22. 11 400 " 14 261 " 17 272 23. 37 283 24. 3, 29 274 " 16 274 " 30 403 " 31 402 " 36 281 25. 31-46 403 " 41, 46 465 26. 28 402 " 39 32 " 52 386 " 61 284 " 62 378 " 64 403 " 65 412 27. 8 274 " 14 378 27. 43 390 " 63-64 303 28. 4, 11 311 " 16, 7, 10 313 " 9 337 " 10, 19 386 " 15 274, 337 " 17 334 " 18 402 " 19, 20 404 " 19 262, 281, 433, 461 MARK. 1. 3 407 " 5 368 " 11 268 " 14-20 278 " 20 285 " 34 355 " 42 356 2. 10 350 3. 1-5 359 " 10 355 " 12 358 " 22 367 " 28, 29 460 " 29 465 5. 11-13 352 " 39 358 " 41 354 " 42 361 " 43 358 6. 5-6 358 " 31 284 " 56 355 7. 34 354 " 36 358 " 37 361 9. 1 273 " 31 317 " 48 465 10. 18 405 10. 24 378 " 45 402 11. 10 366 12. 29 460 13. 7, 10 273 " 13 433 " 14 274 " 24 274 " 32 281, 405 14. 9 273 " 24 402 " 28 311 " 51 275 " 58 284 " 64 412 16. 7 313 " 8 311 " 11 312 " 11-14 334 " 13 312 " 14 322 " 15 433 " 16 477 " 17 359 LUKE. 1. 1 276 " 1-4 271 " 2-3 272 " 3 295,313 " 25 311 2. 2 266 " 52 405 3. 1 268 " 4 407 " 22 268 5. 17-21 360 " 25 356 6. 36-38 261 7. 14 357 " 22 283, 350 8. 32-33 352 " 55 356 9. 10 284 " 27 273 10. 13-15 350 " 21, 22 281 " 22 402 " 38 283 11. 15 367 " 31 268 13. 453 " 10-17 359 " 34 283 14. 21-22 309 16. 8 399 17. 1-2 261 18. 33 317 " 42 358 " 43 356 19. 37 283 " 37-38 392 " 43 299 21. 21 274 " 24 273 " 27 274 22. 19 402 " 71 412 24. 4, 23 311 " 9, 33 322 " 11 311 " 11, 37 334 " 12 318 " 18 276 " 24 318 " 30, 43 337 " 34 312, 313, 321 " 41 322 " 39 261 JOHN. 1. 1 286, 407 " 3 409 " 14 277 " 29-2, 12 278 " 29, 36 286 " 40 276 " 46 377 2. 11 360 " 13 280 " 17, 22 278 " 19 284 " 19-21 317 3. 13 404 " 16 476 " 24 281 4. 27 278 5. 1 280 " 2 277 " 9 356 " 9-16 359 " 18 411 5. 23 403 " 27 473 " 36 350 6. 4 280, 284 " 15 366 " 38 404 " 42, 70 281 " 51 472 " 62 314 7. 5 325 8. 12 434 " 24 477 " 29 401 " 58 404 " 59 411 9. 8-34 353 " 13-34 362 " 14-16 359 " 32 361 10. 18 241, 381 " 30 404 " 33 411 11. 8 411 " 11 358 " 47 362 12. 32 434 " 45 404 13. 28 278 14. 1, 23 403 " 9 404 " 16, 26 460 " 28 406 15. 26 460 16. 7 403 " 17 278 " 28 404 17. 5 404 " 21 404 18. 15 276, 285 19. 7 412 " 28-30 385 " 34 343 " 35 277 20. 2, 13 318 " 6-8 318 " 17 314, 406 " 25 334 " 26 303 " 28 407 " 30 306, 313 " 31 282 21. 5 378 21. 12 322 " 13 337 " 15 322 ACTS. 1. 1 419 " 1-13 307 " 3 296, 306, 310, 327 " 6 309 " 8 321 " 13 275 " 15 307 " 22 303, 309, 322 " 22-23 307 2. 22 362, 407 " 24 302 " 31 303 " 38 462 " 41 338 " 43-47 386 3. 6 408 " 13 383 " 15 379, 344 " 21 296 4. 5-22 362 " 10 302, 408 " 12 477 " 16 362 " 37 275 5. 3, 4 460 " 30 302 " 37 267 6. 5 295 7. 59 408 8. 5, 26, 40 295 " 16 462 9. 7 339 " 10 332 10. 10 332 " 30 333 " 38 362 " 40 302 " 41 337, 348 11. 5 333 12. 1 289 " 12 275 13. 1 419 " 7 288 " 30 302 " 31 306, 310, 315 " 35-37 303 14. 1-12 291 15. 7, 14 322 16. 9 332 " 9-40 294 " 18, 26 362 " 31 477 17. 6 290 " 17 418 " 19, 32 456 " 28 109 " 31 302 " 34 419 18. 8, 24 419 " 12 289 " 25 462 19. 3 461 " 9-10 418 " 21 293 " 29-39 292 " 38 289 20. 2 294 " 5-21, 18 294 " 25, 38 299 " 28 408 21. 10 295 " 18 272 22. 9 339 " 17 333 23. 26 289, 419 24. 3 419 " 17 293 25. 13, 14, 23 290 " 26 289 26. 23 302 " 8 456 " 19, 8 304 " 13, 14 339 " 23 245 " 30 289 27. 1-28, 16 294 28. 6, 8, 9 362 " 7 290 " 25 460 ROMANS. 2. 6 468 6. 23 472 8. 26 460 " 8, 29 78 " 35 328 9. 5 410 10. 9 477 13. 4 386 14. 9 410 " 10 410 15. 18, 19 363 " 19 294 " 25, 26 293 " 30 463 16. 23 419 I. CORINTHIANS. 1. 23 417 2. 8 405 " 10 460 4. 9-13 328 6. 12 479 8. 4 460 8. 6 410 9. 1 303, 333 10. 2 462 12. 9-10, 28 370 15. 1-3 306 " 3 410 " 4 303 " 3-5 304 " 5 322 " 8 333 " 11 306, 314 " 14-17 303 " 15 329 " 20 245 " 50 304 16. 23 462 II. CORINTHIANS. 3. 17 460 5. 10 410 " 16 302 " 21 410 8. 18 300 11. 24-27 328 12. 12 363 13. 14 462 GALATIANS. 1. 8-9 474 " 13 328 " 16 304 " 16-17 333 " 19 306, 409 " 23 409 2. 2 409 3. 13 377 " 28 427 4. 4 239 6. 18 462 EPHESIANS. 4. 4-6 410, 463 6. 12 304 " 23 462 PHILIPPIANS. 2. 6 410 4. 3 260 COLOSSIANS. 1. 15-16 409 " 17 109 " 18 245 " 20 471 2. 9 410 4. 10 275 " 14 296 I THESSALONIANS. 1. 3-5 463 I TIMOTHY. 1. 13 479 4. 10 471 II TIMOTHY. 1. 13 475 4. 7 476 " 11 296 " 20 299 TITUS. 2. 13 410 PHILEMON. 24 296 HEBREWS. 1. 3 404 " 8 410 9. 14 460 I PETER. 1. 2 463 " 19 477 4. 14 434 II PETER. 3. 10 437 I JOHN. 1. 1 277, 286 2. 2 471 4. 2-3 478 JUDE. 20-21 463 REVELATION. 1. 5 245 " 17, 18 408 " 18 344 2. 8 408 " 13, 25 475 3. 11 475 " 14 409 5. 11-14 408 " 13 471 6. 1 286 13. 18 255 14. 1 286 " 11 465 17. 6 298 19. 13 286 20. 15 465 22. 13 408 INDEX OF SUBJECTS. PAGE Abila, inscription at, 268 Abraham, trust in God, 205, 210 ---- promises to, 374 Account of creation, 117 Acts of Apostles, 287 ---- accuracy, 288 ---- authorship, 294 ---- medical language, 296 ---- date, 297 ---- and Christ's Divinity, 407 ---- of Pilate, 365 Adam and Eve, 132 Additions to Pentateuch, 159 Agreements, undesigned, 168 ---- in Gospels, 315 Agrippa, called King, 289 Amalek, threat against, 164 Ambition, the great, 451 Amos, 160 Analogies and illustrations: ---- watch showing design, 12 ---- mass of machinery, 22 ---- house and tenant, 31 ---- ship in distress, 36 ---- king and child, 67 ---- bird in egg, 89 ---- telegraph clerk, 91 ---- Mont Cenis tunnel, 102 ---- telephone, 105 ---- clock and magnet, 107 ---- artist and pictures, 126 ---- diseases of Normandy, 148 ---- similar letters, 227 ---- man's nature, 232 ---- parents and children, 234 ---- paying a debt, 242 ---- regiments crossing, 245 ---- whirlpool, 248 ---- Indian Mutiny, 299 ---- ingenious robbery, 399 ---- founding a religion, 416 ---- going for a holiday, 439 ---- prayer to a father, 441 ---- trees and storm, 447 ---- key fitting lock, 450 ---- planting a flower, 466 ---- quicksands, 474 ---- doctor and fever, 474 ---- scarlet fever, 482 ---- long frontier line, 484 Angels, their existence, 202 ---- their influence, 203 ---- at tomb, 310, 345 ---- seen by the women, 310 ---- and by soldiers, 311 ---- not fellow-creators, 394 ---- seeing and hearing, 202 ---- are Christ's angels, 402 ---- casting out evil, 351 Animals, their creation, 131 ---- difference from man, 51 ---- cannot know man, 227 ---- not immortal, 91 ---- their sufferings, 69 Antioch, inscription at, 267 Antiquity of man, 132 Apocryphal Gospels, 354 Apollos of Alexandria, 418 Apostasy, under trial, 475 Apostolic Fathers, 260 Aramaic words of Christ, 354 Archæology and O. Test, 172 Arianism, 475 Aristides, 259, 364 Aristion, 258, 305 Ark, 147 Arm of the Lord, 377 Artist and pictures, 126 Ascension, the, 314 ---- and early converts, 344 Ashdod, taken by Sargon, 176 Assyria, prophecies as to, 187 ---- army destroyed, 184 Athanasian Creed, warnings, 473 Athanasian Creed, implies persecution, 475 ---- dogmatism, 479 Atonement, doctrine of, 240 ---- prophecies as to, 379 ---- and human nature, 447 ---- and other religions, 454 Baal and Jehovah, 183 Baalbec, inscription at, 268 Babylonia, prophecies, 187 ---- messengers from, 197 Baker, the chief, 140 Baptismal formula, 461 ---- witness of St. Paul, 461 ---- of Teaching, 262, 461 Baptist (see John), 279 Barnabas, epistle of, 261 Bashan, bulls of, 385 Battering-rams, 192 Beauterne as to Napoleon, 251 Bees, cells of, 52 ---- not due to heredity, 53 Belief, importance of true, 473 ---- virtue not necessity, 487 Belshazzar, 174 Beneficence in nature, 59 ---- and righteousness, 80 ---- in Jewish Religion, 214 ---- and in Christian, 242 Bernice, 290 Berosus, as to Nabonidus, 174 ---- as to Sennacherib, 185 Bethany, 283 Bethel, altar at, 196 Bethesda, pool at, 277 Bethlehem, Birth at, 391 'Beyond Jordan', 156 Bible, mistakes in O. Test., 170 ---- in N. Test., 268 ---- inspiration, 437 Bible and Nat. Religion, 200 Blasphemy against Spirit, 460 ---- Christ charged with, 412 Blood and water, 343, 385 Book of the Law, 162 Books buried in temples, 163 Bread, miracle as to, 108 Bricks with straw, 144 Brotherhood of man, 48 Butler, 431 By-product, pain is a, 60 Cæsar, no early MSS., 253 Cæsarea, Philip at, 295 Calmness of Evangelists, 317 Canaan, its peculiarities, 148 Canaanites destroyed, 209 ---- but done gradually, 163 Cannibalism at Jerusalem, 192 Capernaum, centurion at, 360 Cats and mice, 70 Cause, must be free, 33 Cells of bees, 52 ---- built by workers, 53 Celsus, Christ's miracles, 367 Cenis, tunnel in Mont, 102 Census of Israelites, 171 ---- at Christ's birth, 266 Centurion at Capernaum, 360 Certainty not necessity, 27 Chabas, 143 Chance, really impossible, 21 Change of place in Acts I, 310 Changelessness, moral, 111 Character of God, 58 ---- of man, 39 ---- its permanence, 88 Chiefman of Malta, 290, 361 Child of God, man is a, 236 Child's belief, 478 ---- temptations, 87 Chorazin, its significance, 350 Christ, His character, 396 ---- teaching, 397 ---- sinlessness, 400 ---- in Old Test, 380, 388 ---- always pleasing God, 401 ---- claims, 401 ---- sufferings unmerited, 241 ---- His temptations, 447 ---- foretold Resurrection, 317 ---- beginning of creation, 409 ---- seeing Him seeing God, 404 ---- influence in world, 434 ---- prophecies as to, 374 ---- the perfect Example, 236 ---- the Jewish Messiah, 375 ---- the Paschal Lamb, 380 ---- the One Mediator, 454 ---- the only Saviour, 476 ---- (see Divinity), 403, 459 Christiana, sand storm, 146 Christianity, meaning of, 3, 221 ---- its leading doctrines, 222 ---- its improbability, 249, 488 Christianity, preparation for, 422 ---- based on miracles, 435 ---- and the Resurrection, 302 ---- its early triumphs, 416 ---- its later history, 425 ---- effect on world, 426 ---- future prospects, 430 ---- its indestructibility, 432 ---- and prayer, 437 ---- and human nature, 445 ---- and other religions, 452 ---- its evidences, 483 ---- unspeakable grandeur, 485 ---- no half measures, 488 Classical writers, miracles, 368 ---- no early MSS., 253 Clement of Rome, Gospels, 261 Cleopas, 276 Clock and magnet, 107 Closed questions, 481 Coincidences, superhuman, 100 Communion, Holy, 386, 402 Conscience, man has a, 50 ---- the Voice of God, 50 Conservation of energy, 46 Constantine's vision, 335 Conversion, St. Paul's, 306 ---- effect on companions, 339 ---- Christ unrecognised, 340 Converts, early, 418 Crabs, and sense of pain, 70 Creation, 4 ---- account of, in Genesis, 117 ---- days of, 119 ---- on three occasions, 123, 136 ---- and evolution, 24 Creator, meaning of term, 8 Credentials, of messenger, 98 Credible, meaning of, 99 Creeping things, 131 Crispus of Corinth, 418 Crucifixion, Psalm of the, 384 ---- no Jewish punishment, 388 Cyprus, proconsul at, 288 Cyrenius (see Quirinius), 266 Damnatory clauses, 473 Dana on Genesis I, 136 Daniel, Book of, 174 Darkness over land, 368 Darwin, 71 David, his character, 208 ---- not subject of Ps. 22, 388 Days of creation, 119 Dead body of Christ, 337 ---- offerings for, 147 Death, 448 Decalogue, its excellence, 211 ---- preserved in temple, 215 Definitions, credible, 99 ---- design, 10 ---- dogmatism, 479 ---- evolution, 20 ---- free force, 4 ---- instinct, 52 ---- law of nature, 19 ---- material universe, 4 ---- miracles, 101 ---- natural force, 20 ---- omnipotence, 32 ---- omniscience, 32 ---- origin, 4 ---- personal being, 30 ---- revelation, 82 ---- supernatural force, 9 Degradation of energy, 7 Delphi, inscription at, 289 Demoniacal possession, 351 Desert, of Shur, 143 ---- laws suitable for, 149 ---- journeys in, 165 ---- wind, 145 Design, meaning of, 10 ---- evidence in a watch, 12 ---- in an eye, 14 ---- throughout nature, 18 ---- beneficent, 59 ---- need not be desire, 74 ---- man can, 47 ---- animals cannot, 52 ---- and instinct, 52 Destruction of Canaanites, 209 ---- done gradually, 163 ---- of wicked, 471 Determinism, 43 Deuteronomy, finding of, 162 Dial, shadow on, 196 Diana of Ephesus, 292 Diatessaron of Tatian, 257 Diet in Egypt, 147 Difficulties not explained ---- as to Adam and Eve, 132 ---- number of Israelites, 171 ---- swine at Gadara, 352 ---- vows in Ps. 22, 386 ---- virginity, 399 Difficulties, endless misery, 470 ---- known and unknown, 494 Dionysius the Areopagite, 418 Discoveries, modern, 172 Discrepancies in Gospels, 268 ---- in Fourth Gospel, 282 ---- as to Resurrection, 309 ---- essential agreement, 315 Diseases of Egypt, 148, 193 Dishonesty in E, J, P, and D, 158 Dispersion of Jews, 189, 217 Divinity of Christ, 403, 459 ---- witness of Synoptists, 407 ---- of St. John, 407 ---- of Acts, 407 ---- of Revelation, 408 ---- of St. Paul's Epistles, 409 ---- of Hebrews, 410 ---- of Aristides, 365 ---- of Christ's foes, 411 ---- of Pliny, 418 ---- of Jewish prophecies, 390 ---- of Holy Spirit, 459 Dogmatism, objection to, 479 Dogs, term for Gentiles, 385 Doors of the sea, 126 Doubts of Resurrection, 334 Dreams, 92 ---- of Pharaoh, 140 Driver, 157, 159 Dry land, appearance of, 127 Dualism in old religions, 119 ---- unknown to Jews, 213 ---- and endless misery, 466 Eagle, Roman ensign, 191 Earth likened to machine, 22 Earthquakes, 74 Edersheim and Isaiah, 53, 381 ---- and Psalm 22, 387 Edomite kings, list of, 159 Effect, the world is an, 37 Egypt, prophecies as to, 188 ---- magicians of, 182 ---- diseases of, 148, 193 ---- gods of, 146 ---- religion of, 454 ---- and the Pentateuch, 138 ---- return of Jews to, 194 ---- periodical census, 267 Elephantine, temple at, 162 Eleven, the, ancient term, 322 Elijah's sacrifice, 100, 183 Elisha, trivial miracles of, 181 Elohim, plural word, 393 Embalming Christ's body, 334 Emperor called lord, 289 Encyclopædia Britannica, 15, 53 End of the world, 437 Endless happiness, 470 ---- misery, 464 Enemies, doing good to, 211 Energy, degradation of, 7 ---- conservation of, 46 Ephesus, riot at, 292 ---- St. Paul's discussions, 418 ---- farewell to friends, 299 Epistles of St. Paul, four admittedly genuine, 282 ---- accuracy of Acts, 293 ---- the Resurrection, 303 ---- St. Paul's sufferings, 328 ---- Christian miracles, 363 ---- Divinity of Christ, 410 ---- doctrine of Trinity, 462 ---- spread of Christianity, 418 Erastus of Corinth, 418 Erech, inscription at, 174 Erect position, man's, 65 Eternal punishment, 464 Eternity, 450 Ether, 226, 246 Euclid, 40 Eusebius, as to Papias, 259 ---- Quadratus, 364 ---- Jews going to Pella, 275 Evangelists educated, 275 ---- had known Christ, 302 Everlasting Father and Son, 225 ---- in Isaiah, 391 Everyone's work no one's, 348 Evidences, Christian, 483 Evil, existence of, 69 ---- physical, 69, 72 ---- moral, 75 ---- Jewish idea of, 213 ---- men, 77 ---- spirits, 351 Evolution, meaning of, 20 ---- requires a Cause, 7 ---- requires a Designer, 23 ---- requires a motive, 84 ---- implies involution, 23 Evolution and mind, 65 ---- and immortality, 85 ---- a form of creation, 24 ---- leads up to man, 65 ---- and the Incarnation, 239 ---- in revelation, 93, 206 ---- in prophecies, 375 ---- in account of Creation, 122 Experience and miracles, 103 Eye, its marks of design, 14 ---- shows beneficence, 59 Ezekiel, prophecy of Egypt, 188 Faith, faculty of, 485 ---- and miracles, 358 Falsehood Theory, the, 326 ---- not now adopted, 329 Famines in Egypt, 141 ---- at Jerusalem, 192 Farewell, Christ's double, 309 Feeding the 5,000 credible, 108 ---- in triple tradition, 269 ---- undesigned coincidence, 284 ---- public miracle, 361 ---- rationalistic view, 370 Feet pierced, 343 Felix and Festus, 289 'Fellow,' meaning of, 392 Fellowship and personality, 229 Fig-tree, the barren, 354 Final state of wicked, 463 Firmament, or expanse, 125 Firstborn from dead, 245 ---- of Creation, 409 ---- death of the, 146 First Cause single, 8 ---- supernatural, 9 ---- needed no cause, 8 First Witnesses, the, 325 Fishes and birds, 130 Five hundred, appearance, 307 ---- explains Gospels, 321 Flesh and blood, 304 Flood, parallel passages, 159 Forces and causes, 33 Foreknowledge, free will, 26 ---- and omniscience, 32 ---- and prophecies, 99 ---- and prayer, 439 ---- and endless misery, 468 ---- differs from foresight, 11 ---- from foreordaining, 78 ---- in man, foreguessing, 26 Forgiveness of sins, 242 Fourth Gospel, authorship, 277 ---- and other three, 280 ---- and Revelation, 285 Free force, meaning of a, 4 Free will, foreknowledge, 26 ---- of man, 43 ---- of animals, 52 ---- of angels, 203 ---- source of all force, 46 ---- its introduction, 123 ---- makes evil possible, 76 ---- difficulties as to, 466 ---- in religious belief, 487 Fruit-trees making fruit, 122 Fulfilled among us, 276 Future life (_see_ Immortality and Resurrection). Gabriel, man and angel, 311 Gadara, miracle at, 269, 352 Galilee, appearance in, 307 Gallio, proconsul, 289 Generations, meaning, 122 Genesis, the Creation in, 117 ---- refers to Egypt, 138 ---- partly written there, 142 Gentiles, conversion, 380, 388, 393 ---- called dogs, 385 Geography of Palestine, 173 Gibbon and Christianity, 420 Gifts brought to the altar, 272 God, meaning of term, 30 ---- argument from causation, 4 ---- from design, 10 ---- moral argument, 58 ---- three combined, 81, 229 ---- no physical proof, 31 ---- a Personal Being, 30 ---- who loves man, 234 ---- Power, 32, 213, 228, 440, 465 ---- Wisdom 32, 213, 228, 441 ---- Goodness, 79, 214, 228, 242, 441 ---- bearing on miracles, 112 ---- and on the Trinity, 229 ---- emphasized by Christianity, 235 ---- three attributes combined, 80, 112, 199, 235, 488 ---- Justice, 204, 466 God, and Mercy, 468 ---- bearing on Atonement, 241 ---- Love, 229 ---- bearing on Trinity, 229 ---- Greatness, 61 ---- Omnipresence, 33, 213 ---- Unknowable, 33, 214, 226 ---- bearing on revelation, 94 ---- Unchangeable, 110, 214 ---- bearing on miracles, 110 ---- and the Incarnation, 231 ---- Omnipotent, 32 ---- Eternal, 213 ---- Creator of Universe, 8 ---- and its Preserver, 33 ---- Jewish idea of, 204 ---- faith in, 486 ---- (_see_ Immanence) ---- (_see_ Trinity) Goodness, God's, 80, 214, 228 ---- not below man's, 80, 235 ---- man's, 48 ---- depends on free will, 76 ---- its infinite value, 76 Gospels, the Four, 252 ---- external testimony, 252 ---- internal evidence, 265 ---- evidence of Acts, 287 ---- probable date, 300 ---- (_see_ Synoptics, Fourth) Governor, title of, 289 Grape-juice in Egypt, 140 Grave-clothes at tomb, 345 ---- by themselves, 318 Gravity, force, universal, 8 ---- known by effects, 35 ---- an assumption, 46 Great ambition, 451 ---- alternative, 413 ---- surprise, 449 Greek philosophy, 423 Green grass, mentioned, 284 Guard at the tomb, 337 Harnack, unity of Acts, 295 ---- date of Gospels, 300 ---- as to Town Clerk, 292 Healing, gifts of, 370 Hebrews, Christ's Divinity, 410 ---- land of the, 156 Hengstenberg, 387 Herod, Agrippa, death of, 288 Herod, called king, 289 Hezekiah, his sickness, 196 ---- not subject of Ps. 22, 388 Hittites, 174 Holy Communion, 386, 402 Holy Spirit, the, 230 ---- Divinity of, 459 Horses, time of Joseph, 141 Horus myth, and Christ, 454 Human sacrifices in O.T., 210 ---- and Atonement, 240 Hume on experience, 104 Hurtful organs in nature, 59 Huxley on the Creeds, 249 Iconium, 291 Ignatius, 261 ---- knowing, believing, 263 Illusions, not simultaneous, 335 Illyricum, 293 Image and likeness, 134 Immanence, God's, 109 ---- and Evolution, 23 ---- and secondary forces, 33 ---- and miracles, 109 ---- and the Incarnation, 239 ---- and prayer, 440 Immortality, man's, 83 ---- from unique position, 84 ---- unjust treatment, 87 ---- vast capabilities, 88 ---- inherent belief, 90 ---- counter-arguments, 91 ---- and human nature, 448 ---- in Egyptian religion, 455 Incarnation, doctrine of, 230 ---- its difficulties, 231 ---- its motive, 233 ---- historical position, 238 ---- and evolution, 239 ---- and human nature, 447 ---- and other religions, 452 Indian Mutiny, 299 Infinitely little, 64 Inhabitants, other planets, 67 Inherent convictions, man's, 39 ---- as to mind, 41 ---- free will, 44 ---- responsibility, 47 ---- sin, 48 ---- immortality, 90 ---- prayer, 438 Inscriptions at Erech, 174 Inscriptions, at Mugheir, 174 ----Khorsabad, 176 ---- Tivoli, 266 ---- Antioch, 267 ---- Baalbec, 268 ---- Abila, 268 ---- Soli, Cyprus, 289 ---- Delphi, 289 ---- Malta, 290 ---- Thessalonica, 290 ---- Lystra, 291 ---- Ephesus, 292 Insignificance of man, 60 ---- counter-arguments, 61 ---- real importance, 64 Instincts of animals, 52 Invertebrates, in Genesis, 131 Involution and evolution, 23 Irenæus and Gospels, 254 ---- Polycarp, 254 ---- Papias, 258 ---- date of Revelation, 285 ---- value of prophecy, 367 Isaac, sacrifice of, 210 Isaiah, mentions Sargon, 176 ---- test of a prophet, 199 ---- prophecy of Babylon, 187 ---- of Jerusalem, 196 ---- of the Messiah, 377 ---- of His Divinity, 391 ---- implies the Trinity, 394 Israel, God's selection of, 204 ---- going through cities of, 273 Israelites, great number, 171 Jacob's character, 208 Jairus' daughter, 353, 358, 360 James, St., Christ's brother, 272 ---- unbeliever, 325 Japan, becoming Christian, 430 Jehovah adored by millions, 218 ---- identified with Christ, 407 ---- and with Holy Spirit, 460 Jehu not son of Omri, 176 Jephthah's daughter, 210 Jericho, discoveries at, 173 Jeroboam's rebellion, 195 Jerusalem, first destruction foretold, 196 ---- accuracy of date, 177 ---- and second, 191, 274 ---- later than Gospels, 275 Jerusalem, later than Acts, 299 ---- hint to leave, 274 Jewish Prophecies, Egypt, 188 ---- Assyria, 187 ---- Babylonia, 187 ---- dispersion of Jews, 189 ---- the Messiah, 374 Jewish Religion, its origin, 137 ---- its partiality, 204 ---- its miracles, 177 ---- its prophecies, 186 ---- influence in world, 217 ---- and Natural Religion, 216 Jews, dispersion of, 189 ---- a peculiar people, 217 ---- all from one man, 216 ---- use of term, 280 John, St., his call, 278 ---- author of Gospel, 279 ---- the Baptist, 279 ---- and Christ's miracles, 350 Jordan, beyond, 156 Joseph in Egypt, 139 Josephus, witness to Acts, 289 ---- as to Sennacherib, 185 ---- as to crucifixion, 342 ---- siege of Jerusalem, 191 ---- date of the taxing, 266 Josiah and Deuteronomy, 162 Journeys in Desert, 165 Jubilee, year of, 150 Judges and Pentateuch, 160 Justice, God's, 204, 466 Justin, witness to Gospels, 255 ---- Book of Revelation, 285 ---- guard at tomb, 337 ---- Christ's miracles, 365 ---- prefers prophecy, 365 ---- the Name, persecuted, 434 ---- Acts of Pilate, 365 King of the Jews, 392 Kings did not use plural, 393 Korah, rebellion of, 169 Koran, Christ's miracles, 424 ---- authorises force, 428 Krishna myth, and Christ, 452 Lamb of God, 286 ---- Paschal, 380 Land animals, 131 Laws, of nature, 19 ---- in Pentateuch, 149 Laymen offering sacrifice, 162 Lazarus, raising of, 370 ---- only in one Gospel, 283 ---- well-known man, 360 ---- case of resuscitation, 245 Lecky, on Christ's teaching, 398 Legend Theory, the, 329 ---- disproved by Gospels, 329 ---- and St. Paul's Epistles, 330 Legislation, Jewish, 149 Levi ben Gershon, 180 Levites, 150, 162 Life, origin of, in Genesis, 128 ---- science and, 122 ---- forms three groups, 55 Light before the sun, 129 Logos in Revelation, 286 ---- among Greeks, 423 Lord, and God, 407 ---- title or emperor, 289 Lord's Day, 303 ---- Servant, the, 376 Lost Gospel, 262 Love, of God, 229 ---- must be free, 235 ---- motive of Religion, 451 Luke, St., a doctor, 296 ---- wrote Gospel, 275 ---- wrote Acts, 294 ---- perhaps at Emmaus, 276 ---- witnessed miracles, 362 Lycaonia, the cities of, 291 Lysanias, 268 Lystra, inscriptions at, 291 Magicians of Egypt, 182 Magnet and clock, 107 Mohammedanism, 213 ---- unlike Christianity, 424 ---- and Christ's miracles, 424 ---- authorises force, 428 Malchus, 360 Malta, title 'chiefman', 290 Man, mental attributes, 39 ---- moral attributes, 41 ---- memory, 41 ---- free will, 43 ---- responsibility, 47 ---- moral sense, 48 ---- conscience, 50 ---- personal being, 47 Man, moral being, 49 ---- bearing on Christianity, 239 ---- his Unique position, 45, 65 ---- due to mind, and spirit, 66 ---- greater than stars, 66 ---- bearing on revelation, 94 ---- each man unique, 62, 133 ---- and irreplaceable, 63 ---- character, permanent, 88 ---- tripartite nature, 55 ---- end of creation, 65, 84 ---- also its first thought, 66 ---- his probation, 85 ---- scandal of universe, 244 ---- seems insignificant, 60 ---- real importance, 64 ---- bearing on Incarnation, 239 ---- immortality of spirit, 83 ---- resurrection of body, 247 ---- creation in Genesis, 132 ---- not created good, 86, 133 ---- antiquity, 132 ---- differs from animals, 51 ---- his erect position, 65 ---- resembles God, 56, 133, 234 ---- child of God, 236 ---- bearing on Incarnation, 232 ---- his ignorance, 6, 17, 34 ---- bearing on miracles, 108 ---- and on Christianity, 249 Manaen, 418 Marcion, Luke's Gospel, 257 Mardukshazzar, 175 Mark, St., wrote Gospel, 275 ---- interpreter of Peter, 259 ---- earliest of Four, 269 ---- at Gethsemane, 275 ---- witness to miracles, 355 ---- their sitting at meat, 320 Martha, 283 Mary Magd. first witness, 316 ---- not expecting it, 334 Material universe, meaning, 4 Materialism, 40 Materials, same everywhere, 68 Matter, perhaps eternal, 6 ---- certainly a mystery, 34 ---- indestructible, 83 ---- not solid, 245 Matthew, St., wrote Gospel, 275 Mediator, Christ the, 454 Medical language in Acts, 296 Memory, and materialism, 41 ---- in heaven, 470 Menephthah, 143 Mercy, God's, 468 Mesmerism, 351 Messiah, Jewish, 374 Meteorite, 100, 292 Micah, prophecy of, 391 Michael, 203 Microscope, 64 Mill, on Christ's teaching, 397 Mind of man, 39 ---- shows his importance, 66 Miracles, 101 ---- as marvels, 103 ---- and experience, 103 ---- as special works, 106 ---- as signs, 110 ---- not mere wonders, 101, 103 ---- natural means supernaturally applied, 107 ---- in Jewish religion, 177 ---- to benefit mankind, 200 ---- their publicity, 185 ---- some seem trivial, 181 ---- in Christian religion, 349 ---- their credibility, 349 ---- not worked to order, 350 ---- their truthfulness, 353 ---- their naturalness, 355 ---- their number, 355 ---- their variety, 355 ---- their suddenness, 356 ---- their permanence, 356 ---- order to keep secret, 358 ---- on the Sabbath, 359 ---- their publicity, 360 ---- names often given, 360 ---- caused astonishment, 361 ---- peculiarity of Christ's, 357 ---- conditional on faith, 358 ---- publicly admitted, 362 ---- St. Peter's appeal to, 362 ---- and Acts of Pilate, 365 ---- how explained away, 369 ---- Apostolic, St. Paul's, 363 ---- witnessed by St. Luke, 362 ---- in Christ's name, 408 ---- helped Christianity, 421 ---- Mohammed did none, 424 Miracles, not to be prayed for, 443 ---- later Christian, 371 Missionaries and prayer, 438 ---- of the Resurrection, 347 Missions, 430 Mistakes in O. Test., 170 ---- in N. Test., 268 Monkey and evolution, 23 Monotheism, of Jews, 212 ---- in account of creation, 118 Moral sense, 48 ---- perfection, 67 ---- difficulties in O. Test., 208 ---- in N. Testament, 399 Morality, Christian, 422 Moses wrote Pentateuch, 164 ---- an Egyptian name, 143 Mugheir, inscription at, 174 Mutiny, Indian, 299 Mutual explanations, 317 Myrrh, 345 Nabonidus, 174 Name of Christ persecuted, 434 Names, Egyptian, 142 ---- of God in O. Test., 158 ---- in N. Test. miracles, 360 ---- of eminent converts, 418 ---- and titles in Acts, 288 Napoleon, on Christianity, 251 Nathaniel, 279 Natural means, supernaturally applied, 107 Natural forces, 20 ---- Selection, 20 ---- Rejection, 21 ---- Religion, depends on, probability, 36, 96, 487 ---- only partly known, 35 ---- in Jewish religion, 216 ---- in Egyptian religion, 455 ---- in other religions, 457 ---- in prehistoric times, 238 ---- moral difficulties, 69 ---- and the Bible, 200 ---- and unity of God, 227 ---- leads to Revelation, 39 Nature, its unity, 8, 18 ---- its laws, 19 ---- its forces, 20 ---- acting rationally, 100 ---- its uniformity, 106 Nature, its mysteries, 250 ---- its perfection, 61 ---- care of individuals, 62 ---- a means to an end, 85 ---- bearing on miracles, 112 ---- immanence in God, 109 ---- forgets nothing, 466 ---- analogy, as to angels, 202 ---- man's future life, 89 ---- man's resurrection, 247 ---- short probation, 468 ---- his destruction, 472 Naville, 164 ---- unity of Genesis, 142 Nazareth, dry ground, 377 Nebuchadnezzar, 174, 184 Nebula theory, 124 Necessity, doctrine of, 43 ---- and certainty, 27 Nero addressed as Lord, 289 ---- his persecution, 298 Nineveh, men of, 269 Numbers in O. Test., 171 Obedience and sacrifice, 161 Old Testament, genuine, 167 ---- alleged mistakes, 170 ---- miracles, 177 ---- prophecies, 186 ---- moral defects, 208 Omnipotence, 32, 213 Omnipresence, 33, 213 Omniscience, 32, 213 Origen and Celsus, 367 Origin of universe, 4 ---- in Genesis, 118 ---- of life, 123 ---- of Jewish religion, 137 ---- of Christian religion, 301 Osiris, 454 Pain, 69, 71 ---- not always an evil, 72 Paley, watch argument, 11 Pantheism, 119 Papias as to Gospels, 258 Papyri, Egyptian, 271, 289 Papyrus used for writing, 253 Parables, teaching by, 273 ---- some objected to, 399 ---- Unrighteous Steward, 399 ---- Wedding Garment, 400 Partiality in revelation, 95 Partiality to Jews, 204 Paul, St., conversion, 305, 339 ---- teaching not new, 409 ---- the two essentials, 476 ---- (_see_ Epistles) Peace be unto you, twice, 320 Peculiar people, Jews a, 217 Pella, Christians go to, 275 Pentateuch, importance, 138 ---- claims to be Mosaic, 164 ---- language, 155 ---- Egyptian references, 138 ---- laws, 149 ---- date and author, 164 ---- excellent morality, 211 ---- theory of late date, 155 Perish, its meaning, 475 Persecution for Name, 434 Persecutions, religious, 427 ---- of Jews, 190 ---- of Christians, 328 ---- implied in Creed, 475 Person, not in N. Test, 460 Personal Being, meaning, 30 ---- God is a, 30 ---- man is a, 47 ---- animals are not, 54 ---- implies fellowship, 229 Persons and things, 67 Peter, St., called Simon, 321 ---- connection with Mark, 259 ---- appeal to miracles, 362, 408 Petrie, as to Exodus, 171 Peyreyrius, 132 Pharaoh's dreams, 140 ---- heart hardened, 209 Philip, one of the Seven, 295 Philippi, gaoler at, 477 Philo, days of Genesis, 121 Pilate, Acts of, 365 Pinches, Book of Daniel, 175 Pithom, discoveries at, 144 Plagues, the ten, 144 ---- superhuman coincidences, 178 ---- and magicians, 182 Planets, inhabited (?), 67 ---- not by sinners (?), 232 Pliny, numerous letters, 369 ---- spread of Christianity, 418 ---- Christ's Divinity, 418 Plural of majesty, 393 ---- in P and J, 159 Politarchs, 290 Polycarp of Smyrna, 254 ---- witness to Gospels, 261 Polytheism, 119, 212 Pomponia Græcina, 419 Prayer, subject of, 437 ---- and experiment, 444 ---- and observation, 444 ---- a simple, 480 ---- after the event, 439 ---- for others, 442 Pre-existence of Christ, 404 ---- in O. Test., 391 Prehistoric men, future life, 90, 238 Priests and Levites, 162 Probability, guide of life, 487 Proconsul and other terms, 288 Prophecy, credible, 99 ---- in Old Testament, 186 ---- word of Jehovah, 389 ---- as to Christ, 374 ---- His Resurrection, 317 ---- why not plainer, 394 ---- His own influence, 434 Prospective organs, 16 Psalm of the Crucifixion, 384 Publius, chief man, 290, 361 Pul of Assyria, 176 'Q' (Quelle) and Gospels, 270, 350, 361 Quadratus, as to miracles, 364 Quirinius, his census, 266 Quotations, Barnabas, 261 ---- Butler, 431 ---- Clement, 261 ---- Dana, 136 ---- Darwin, 71 ---- Eusebius, 259, 364 ---- Huxley, 249 ---- Ignatius, 261 ---- Irenæus, 254 ---- Justin, 365 ---- Lecky, 398 ---- Mill, 397 ---- Napoleon, 250 ---- Naville, 142 ---- Papias, 258 ---- Pinches, 175 ---- Polycarp, 261 ---- Quadratus, 364 ---- Ramsay, 272 ---- Renan, 397 ---- Romanes, 87, 135 ---- Teaching of Twelve, 261 ---- Wallace, 71 Radium, 7 Ramsey, as to the census, 267 ---- Lysanias, 268 ---- early Gospels, 272 ---- Lycaonia, 291 Rationalism, spread of, 430 ---- and miracles, 369 Rawlinson, 176 Reason cannot judge of Christian doctrines, 249 Recognition, hereafter, 448 Recorders in O. Test., 173 Recurring series of events, 5 Red Sea, passage of, 178 Relics, resurrection of, 248 Remorse, 51 Renan, raising of Lazarus, 370 ---- Christ's character, 397 Repentance, 243 Responsibility of man, 47 Resurrection, doctrine of, 244 ---- applies to a body, 303 ---- not resuscitation, 245, 323 ---- Christ's, 301 ---- falsehood theory, 326 ---- legend theory, 329 ---- vision theory, 331 ---- swoon theory, 341 ---- wanted missionaries, 347 ---- a physical fact, 304 ---- not really unique, 245 ---- table of appearances, 308 ---- three groups, 307 ---- the narratives, 305 ---- their discrepancies, 309 ---- their agreements, 315 ---- omissions, 312 ---- signs of early date, 321 ---- the real difficulty, 346 ---- in other religions, 455 ---- man's, 247 ---- need not be of relics, 248 ---- the period of life, 449 ---- the great surprise, 449 ---- and human nature, 448 ---- terms not literal, 464 Resuscitation, 245, 323 Revelation, meaning of, 82 ---- possible, 83 ---- probable, 92 ---- progressive, 93 ---- after writing, 93 ---- must be partial, 95, 204 ---- evidence inconclusive, 95 ---- miraculous, 98 ---- Book of, and Gospel, 285 ---- Divinity of Christ, 408 Risen Body difficulties, 245 ---- record of eyewitnesses, 323 Roman provinces, 288 ---- siege of Jerusalem, 191 ---- State and Christians, 298 Romanes, man's probation, 87 ---- accuracy of Genesis, 135 Sabbath, miracles on, 359 Sacrifices, heathen, 447 ---- human, in O. Test., 210 Salvation, not selfishness, 451 Samaria, date of fall, 177 Samuel and Pentateuch, 160 Sanctuary, the one, 161 Sand-storms and darkness, 146 Sargon, named in Isaiah, 176 Satan, 203 Saurians, 131 Secondary forces, 33 Secrecy in Christ's miracles, 358 Seed, may be disciples, 378, 387 Selfishness, objection as to, 451 Sennacherib, 184 Sentry, pain a kind of, 72 Sergius Paulus, 289, 361 Servant, the Lord's, 376 Seventh day, the, 119 Shadow on dial, 196 Shaving in Egypt, 141 Shepherd, the Lord's, 391 ---- kings, foreign, 139 Shur, desert of, 143 Siege of Jerusalem foretold by Moses, 191 ---- and by Christ, 274 Signet ring, in Egypt, 141 Signs, superhuman, 99 ---- supernatural, 101 Silence, argument from, 368 ---- of sun and moon, 179 Simon, shows early date, 321 Simultaneous visions, 335 Sin, its meaning, 48 ---- reason for it, 76 ---- necessary for some virtues, 78 ---- its universality, 447 ---- its remedy, 244 ---- eternal, 467 Sinai, 147 Sinlessness of Christ, 400 ---- foretold by Isaiah, 380 ---- implied in Ps. 22, 388 Slaughter of animals, 150 Slavery in early times, 211 Soli, inscription at, 289 Son of God, means God the Son, 407 ---- of Man in Gospels, 281 Sorrow, human, 446 Sources of Gospels, 269, 413 South, Queen of the, 269 Spectroscopes, 64 Spirit, man's, 55, 66 ---- master of body, 91 Spiritual beings, 202, 351 Standing still of sun, 179 Steward, the Unrighteous, 399 Stone at Tomb, 336 Straw in brick making, 144 Struggle for life, 71 Substance, meaning of, 222 Suetonius, 417 Sufferings of animals, 69 ---- of men, 72 ---- and future happiness, 88 ---- of Jews, 190 ---- of Christians, 328 Sun and moon formation, 129 ---- silence of, 179 Sunday, 303 Superhuman signs, 99 ---- coincidences, 100 ---- passage of Red Sea, 178 ---- destruction of Korah, 169 ---- of Assyrian army, 184 ---- silence of sun, 179 ---- Elijah's sacrifice, 183 ---- shadow on dial, 196 ---- and prayer, 439 Supernatural, force, 9 ---- man partly, 45 ---- signs, 101 Surprise, the great, 449 Survival of fittest, 20 Swine at Gadara, 269, 352 Swoon Theory, the, 341 Sword, any violent death, 386 Synoptic Gospels, accuracy, 266 ---- discrepancies, 266 ---- sources, 269 ---- ministry in Judæa, 282 ---- probable date, 272, 300 ---- authors, 275 ---- and Fourth, 280 Table of Appearances, 308 Tacitus, and Christianity, 417 ---- his contempt for it, 368 Tatian, the Diatessaron, 257 Teaching of Twelve, 261 ---- and the Trinity, 461 Tel-el-Muskhuta, ruins, 144 Telepathy, 40 Telephone, 105 Telescope and eye, 14 ---- discoveries of, 64 Ten, Commandments, 211 ---- Plagues, 144 ---- superhuman coincidences, 178 ---- and the magicians, 182 Tertullian, 257 Testimony and experience, 104 ---- its value, 325 Theophilus and Gospel, 275 ---- and Acts, 297 ---- things taught to, 271 ---- prominent convert, 418 Thessalonica, politarchs, 290 Theudas, date of, 288 Third Day, importance, 303 Thomas, St., Resurrection, 336 ---- Christ's Divinity, 407 Thousands or families, 171 Three, Creeds, 458 ---- men in furnace, 103 Tisdall, 453, 456 Titles of various rulers, 288 Tomb, the empty, 338 ---- visit of disciples, 318 ---- guard at, 337 ---- angels at, 310, 345 Town Clerk of Ephesus, 292 Trajan, decree of, 267 Transfiguration, 270 Trials here, future reward, 88 Trinity, doctrine of the, 222 ---- its probability, 228 ---- peculiarly Christian, 452 ---- hinted at in Old Test., 393 ---- contained in N. Test., 459 ---- implied by Teaching, 461 Triple tradition in Gospels, 269 Troelstra, 158 True belief, importance, 473 ---- a virtue, 487 Undesigned agreements, 168 ---- examples, Korah, 169 ---- call of St. John, 278 ---- destroying temple, 283 ---- feeding the 5,000, 284 ---- Acts and Epistles, 293 ---- mocking the Crucified, 390 ---- baptismal formula, 461 Uniformity of nature, 106 ---- and prayer, 438 Uniqueness of man, 65 ---- of each man, 62 ---- of the Incarnation, 233 Unitarianism, 228 Unity of nature, 8 Universalism, 470 Universe, its origin, 4, 118 ---- its magnitude, 64 ---- bearing on man, 60 ---- an effect, 37 Unknowable, everything is, 34 Unrighteous Steward, 399 Vellum used for writing, 253 Veracity of the witnesses, 326 Verbal inspiration, 437 Vessels of wood, 145 Vesuvius, eruption of, 74 'Victoria Institute,' pain, 70 ---- Pithom, 144 ---- Belshazzar, 175 ---- Red Sea, 179 ---- earliest Gospel, 272 ---- Horus myth, 455 ---- Krishna myth, 453 Virgin Birth, unique, 233 ---- and Aristides, 365 ---- not said of Krishna, 452 Virtue, the highest, 78, 211 Vision Theory, the, 331 ---- arguments in favour, 332 ---- arguments against, 332 ---- does not explain facts, 336 ---- real visions, 340 Voice from heaven, 268 Voyage, St. Paul's, 294 Walking on sea, Christ's, 370 Wallace, 71 Warnings of the Creed, 473 Wars of the Lord, quoted, 159 Waste and void, in Gen., 124 Waste in nature, 68 Watch showing design, 12 Water-wheels, Egyptian, 149 'We' sections of Acts, 294 Wedding Garment, the, 400 West, use of term, 156 Wheat, several ears, 140 Whirlpool, 248 Wicked men, their use, 77 ---- not machines, 48 ---- final state, 463 Will, man's, its action, 42, 45 ---- its freedom, 43 Windows of heaven, 126 Wisdom, God's, 32, 213, 441 Word or Logos in Revelation, 286 ---- among Greeks, 423 World, creation of the, 4, 117 ---- end of the, 437 Wounded means pierced, 377 Writing, early use of, 138, 172 ---- wanted for revelation, 93 X-rays, 246 Zeal of early Christians, 420 Zebulon, prophecy as to, 391 Zechariah, prophecies of, 392 Zeus and Hermes, 291 PRINTED IN GREAT BRITAIN. WELLS GARDNER, DARTON AND CO., LTD., LONDON. Transcriber's Notes Some punctuation has been inserted to maintain consistency. The reference in the index to page 541 was corrected to 441. Spelling and hyphenation match the original text and may vary within the book. The caret symbol (^) has been used to represent superscripts. OE ligatures have been changed to simple OE in this text version. 
43328	----	THE LOST FAITH, AND DIFFICULTIES OF THE BIBLE AS TESTED BY THE LAWS OF EVIDENCE. BY T. S. CHILDS, D. D. PHILADELPHIA: PRESBYTERIAN BOARD OF PUBLICATION AND SABBATH-SCHOOL WORK, No. 1334 CHESTNUT STREET COPYRIGHT, 1888, BY THE TRUSTEES OF THE PRESBYTERIAN BOARD OF PUBLICATION AND SABBATH-SCHOOL WORK. _ALL RIGHTS RESERVED._ WESTCOTT & THOMSON, _Stereotypers and Electrotypers, Philada._ Some of the most pathetic cases of the spiritual unrest and skepticism of the day are found among the children of Christian parents. They have been brought up to believe the Bible, but under the influences that have met them as they have gone out from the old home into the world their early faith has been shaken, and not unfrequently destroyed. To such as these, and, beyond these, to all who have come to believe that our age has passed beyond the Bible, it is hoped that the incidents and arguments of this little book may be of service. WASHINGTON, D. C., June, 1888. THE LOST FAITH. LETTER I. MY DEAR C----: It is useless for you to write to me on the subject of your last letter. I appreciate your motives, but with me the question is settled. I have given up the beliefs of my childhood; they had long been a burden to me, and the writings and lectures of Mr. ---- did the rest. Have you heard him? Can he be fairly answered? I am not, indeed, as confident as he is that there is no personal God, though I do not believe it can be _proved_, and I entirely agree with him in abhorring and rejecting the doctrine of future suffering. This was the horrible nightmare of my childhood, and you cannot conceive the relief that the rejection of the doctrine has given me. I am frank to say, from my own experience and that of others, that this is the point that gives Mr. ---- his hold on so many. The doctrine of endless suffering for the sins of this life is abhorrent to them, and they welcome his views almost as a first truth of reason. This, at least, is my position. The existence of God cannot be proved, nor can any immortality for man except in the influence he may leave behind him. But a truce to this. Come to me soon if you are not afraid of my "infidelity," and let us live over the days of our boyhood. Most of the dear old friends are gone; we are nearly alone, and I am not inclined to drop the last links of brighter, and perhaps better, days than these now upon us. Yours, truly, A----. * * * * * MY DEAR A----: Your letter has moved me deeply. Yes, we are almost alone. Of all the dear group that used to gather in the old school-house, and play upon the common, and stroll along the river-banks in summer and skate upon its solid surface in winter, you and I are nearly all that remain. The Southern sea has poor H----; W----, the leader of our sports, fell (under another name, I think) with Custer's band in the wild tragedy of Montana; B---- and S---- won their honors, and were buried with them, on the battlefield; K---- lives a wreck in mind and body. The rest are scattered. The old homes are all changed; the inmates are gone from them for ever. And you are changed. No recollections of the past that your letter has called up have impressed me more sadly than the change you speak of in yourself. You have lost the faith of your childhood. It is true you do not speak of it as a loss: you think you have gained by it. Your early beliefs oppressed you, and you have escaped the burden by rejecting belief in God and in a future life. Let me claim the liberty of an old friend--it may be for the last time, for we shall soon both be away--and ask if you are _sure_ of your ground. The questions are too momentous, the interests involved are too great and too lasting, to be risked on an uncertainty. You are not, indeed, sure that there is no God, but you are sure that no man can prove that there is; and you are equally certain that there can be no future state of suffering for any. Your final conclusions you have reached through the influence of Mr. ----, and you admit that his hold on you and on others has come largely through his passionate denials of the doctrine of future retribution. I have no doubt this is so. But, after all, is this decisive? Are Mr. ----'s doubts and denials more to be relied on than the positive beliefs of as intelligent and good men as the world has ever seen? I do not press this as proof one way or the other, but it is something worth thinking of before you give up for ever your respect for Christianity and the Bible. Your letter has called up memories that will not down at the bidding. You remember your mother; you remember her life; you remember her death. The day after her burial we were sitting, you and I, under the old willow on the bank of the river--it is all before me now--and you told me how she died with her hand on your head, and how before she died you promised to meet her again. Was it all a delusion? Did she go out in final darkness? And was your promise the folly of childhood? Will you bear with me if I recall another and a later scene? The days of childhood were behind us. We had drifted apart. You remained among the old home-scenes; I was making my way among strangers. Then one went from you who had become dearer to you than a mother. I have before me a letter that came to me out of the shadows of that bitter trial; I know you will not misjudge me if I quote its words now. Thus you wrote: "I am sure such a life cannot have ended; the possibilities of it cannot yet be finished. That soul, with all its sweetness and beauty and brightness, cannot have been quenched like a spark on the ocean.... Her last words were, 'I go with Him who has brought life and immortality to light, and who has opened the kingdom of heaven to all believers.'" I would not recall these early views and faiths unkindly. If they were wrong, of course you are right in parting with them; but is it certain they were wrong? And in giving them up have you found something better and more sure to take their place? One important point I presume you have not overlooked: whatever doubts there may be as to the existence of God, _atheism can never be proved_. No man can ever be sure that there is _not_ a God; he may deny that the proof of divine existence satisfies _him_, but that is all he can do. Somewhere in the universe, after all, God may be. No man has explored all its recesses; none has pierced its limitless heights; none has threaded all its dark abysses and found that in it all there is no God. A man must himself have the attributes of God to know that there is no God. And suppose I cannot prove that there is a God? If I live as if there were one and it should happen that there is not, I am safe; I lose nothing. But if I live as if there were no God and it should come to pass at last that there is, where am I? Of two untraveled paths, it is wisest to take that which is _known_ to be safe. But suppose it to be a question of probabilities. Suppose you have to choose between an endless succession of finite causes, as a man, an oak, a flower, a dewdrop--not one of which is adequate to its own existence--and one infinite, eternal self-existent, almighty and allwise Cause of all things (and some such choice sooner or later you must make), which is the better? Which is the more reasonable? If you think through these questions at all, either you must at last admit a God or you must make something for yourself that will do the work of God; and the God you make _must do what actually is done now_; what he will do hereafter, who can say? Your friend, Mr. ----, tells you that "all there is is all the God there is"--that "the universe is all there is or was or will be." This is pantheistic atheism; it is a mere assertion without a particle of proof; and if true, it can give us no relief for the future, as I hope to satisfy you. By the side of this utterance of Mr. ---- let me put the words of that king in the realm of science, Professor Joseph Henry. They are found in the last letter that he ever wrote, and may be taken as the final summing up of all those vast researches that have made his name the heritage of the world. They are entitled to some weight as against the statements of men who, if they can follow in his footsteps at all, must follow afar off. These are his words: "After all our speculations and an attempt to grapple with the problem of the universe, the simplest conception which explains and connects the phenomena is that of the existence of one spiritual Being infinite in wisdom, in power and all divine perfections." That is, the simplest and the best explanation of the facts of the universe is found in the existence of God. This is testimony accepted by the highest scientific authority both in this country and in Europe. I do not say that it proves there is a God, but it does prove that belief in God is consistent with the highest intellectual power. To disbelieve is no proof of a great mind. Mr. ---- eulogizes Thomas Paine as one of the greatest and best men of his age--a man "whose writings carry conviction to the dullest." Now, Paine, though a bitter enough infidel, as we all know, never so parted from his reason or his reverence as to deny the existence of God. He says with a force that, according to Mr. ----, must "carry conviction to the dullest:" "I know I did not make myself, and yet I have existence; and by searching into the nature of other things I find no other thing could make itself, and yet millions of other things exist; therefore it is that I know by positive conclusions resulting from this search that there is a power superior to all these things, and that power is God." Paine believed in God; he believed in a future life; he believed in the person of Christ, of whom Mr. ---- so far takes leave of all historic judgment, and even of all respectable infidel judgments, as to say we do not know that he ever existed! This suggests a word in regard to your questions whether I have heard Mr. ---- and whether he can be fairly answered. I have never heard him on the subjects of which you speak, but I have read enough, I think, to judge him fairly. I recognize his brilliant gifts, his wit, his rhetorical power, but I am surprised that one of your natural clearness of mind should not see that he deals most unfairly with the questions of religion. His representation of Christianity is a caricature, and it takes great charity not to believe it is an _intentional_ caricature. His treatment of the Scriptures is inexcusably unfair. If a Christian were to deal with an infidel book as Mr. ---- deals with the Bible, there would be no bound to the charges of outrageous misrepresentation and perversion. His abuse of Christians and Christianity is often more like the raving of a madman than like the calm judgment of a fair-minded reasoner. What are we to think of a man who can sit down and deliberately write and send out to the world such words as these?--"Hundreds, and thousands, and millions, have lost their reason in contemplating the monstrous falsehoods of Christianity;" "Nine-tenths of the people in the penitentiaries are believers;" "The orthodox Christian says that if he can only save his little soul, if he can barely squeeze into heaven, ... it matters not to him what becomes of brother or sister, father or mother, wife or child. He is willing that they should burn if he can sing." This is enough. But what shall be said of such ravings? Suppose Mr. ---- finds imperfections in the Church; suppose he finds a multitude of professed Christians that are not what they should be, just as Christ has given us reason to expect,--does that settle the real nature of Christianity? Suppose "nine-tenths of the people in the penitentiaries" were American citizens,--does that prove that American citizenship is a bad thing or make it worth while for a man to spend his life in denouncing our Constitution? Mr. ---- knows there is a very different kind of citizen, and he knows that these men are in the penitentiary, not because they have kept the laws of their country, but because they have broken them. So, even if the monstrous assertion were true that nine-tenths of the occupants of the penitentiaries are Christian professors, they are there, not on account of Christianity, but in spite of it. True Christianity never sent them there, and every honest man knows that. Christianity is founded on Christ, and the required fruit of it is holiness, rectitude with man and purity before God. This is a fact that any man who _wants_ to know the truth can understand by an hour's study of the teachings of Christ and his apostles. To your question whether Mr. ---- can be answered, I say deliberately he has been answered a hundred times. I do not think that in all his assaults on the Bible he has advanced a respectable argument or objection that has not been urged and answered again and again long before he was born. The Christian Church has not the least fear for herself from his attacks; indeed, she understands them so well, and has repelled them so often, that she is perhaps too indifferent to anything he may say. The danger is not to the Church, but to those _who want to be convinced that the Bible is not true, and who want to be assured that, however they may live in this life, they have nothing to fear in a life to come_. Indulge me in another letter, and believe me Yours, truly, C----. LETTER II. MY DEAR A----: The two questions that press upon every mind, and that Mr. ---- has shown again and again, with wonderful pathos, by dying beds and at open graves, are pressing upon his, are these: Is there a God? Is there a future state of existence? To these questions the best answer Mr. ---- has to give is, "We do not know." He seems confident that there is no personal God, and "we cannot say whether death is a wall or a door, the beginning or the end of a day, the spreading of pinions to soar or the folding for ever of wings, the rise or the set of a sun." With all this uncertainty, he is absolutely sure that there is no future state of suffering for evil-doers. He does not know whether there is any future at all, but he does know that there is no future of sorrow. He is profoundly ignorant as to the _fact_ of a future, but has decisive knowledge as to the _nature_ of the future, if there is one. "Rather than that this doctrine of endless punishment should be true," he says, "I would gladly see the fabric of our civilization, crumbling, fall to unmeaning chaos and to formless dust, where oblivion broods and even memory forgets." Now, it may be quite true that Mr. ---- has this preference, yet this does not settle the case. We can fully understand how any man should shrink from the terrible possibility of future suffering. Orthodoxy has no more delight in it than has infidelity. But it is not a question of preference: it is a question of fact; and the point I submit for your reflection is this--whether Mr. ----, on his own ground, is authorized to affirm that there is no future state of suffering for any. He says we do not know whether there _is_ any future state. Very well. Then, certainly, we do not know what _kind_ of a future state there may be, if there is one. If Mr. ---- is not able to assure us that there is no future for us at all, he surely has not the ground to assure us of any kind of a future, good or bad. There may be a future of joy, there may be a future of suffering; there may be both. Mr. ---- is too good a lawyer to undertake to prove anything by mere negative evidence. He "leaves the dead with Nature, the mother of all," and "Nature," as to any sure utterance upon the future, is as silent as are the lips of the dead themselves. Mr. ---- does not believe in a personal God. _You_ are not sure whether there is one or not. There may be; there may be none. If there is, we cannot know it. Let us see what we gain on either supposition. Suppose there is a God, though I cannot know it or I cannot know him. Then, clearly, I cannot know what he is; I cannot know what he may do. It is quite possible that this unknown God may be a God who hates what we call sin, and who will punish it, and who will punish it just as long as it stands an offence in the moral universe, whether it be in this world or in the world to come. No agnosticism can deny this conclusion. The darkest as well as the most radiant scenes that Christian faith brings within our view _may_ be eternally true. I may be immortal, and it may be an immortality of joy or of sighing for me as I use this life and the truth that God has made known to me in this life. Let us take the other hypothesis. Suppose there is no God; suppose Mr. ---- has satisfied me that there is no supernatural revelation, and no personal God to make one. Has he made it well for me hereafter? Has he delivered me from all fear for the future? Has he saved me beyond question from "the serpent of eternal pain"? If there is no God, does that make it certain that there will be no future suffering for any man? Let us see. We are here in a world of suffering. How came we here? and how did suffering come here? If we came without a God, who will prove that without a God we may not go elsewhere, and that suffering may not go with us? Here we are--by natural law, by evolution, by chance--as part and particle of the one eternal unity; however it may be, we are here, and we suffer. We know what pain of body and pain of mind are. We have felt the sting of death, and no law of nature, no power of evolution, has ever lighted up for us the darkness of the grave. Now, the question we want answered is this: If "Nature" has brought us into this state where there is so much of what we call sin, and so much bound with it that we call suffering, how do we know that the same "Nature" may not continue the same facts hereafter? Nay, what assurance can Mr. ---- give us that "Nature" is not a power that may in some future frenzy cast us into a state _far worse_ than the present? Is he so far possessed of all the secrets of "Nature" that he _knows_ the time will never come when she may strike us with a force more terrible than any retributive judgment of God? If "Nature" works now in storm and fire, in earthquake and pestilence, in disease and torture and death, in the sorrows of memory, the horrors of remorse and dread forebodings of coming woe, _how do you know that she may not manifest herself thus hereafter and through the ages to come_? If Nature is, as Mr. ---- says, the mother of us all, there are times when she manifests her motherhood appallingly. And when are these manifestations to end and how are they to end? If under her regal sway we find that, as a fact, sin and suffering are connected here, can any man prove that it may not be a law of "Nature" herself that sin and suffering shall be connected eternally? If in the imperial reign of "the mother of us all" there are chains and scourges, prisons and scaffolds, thunderbolts and flames, cyclones and famines and ocean-graves, will any man prove that somewhere in the darkness and mystery of the future there may not be, in the long outworking of this reign, something worse than a hell, worse than an undying worm, worse than a quenchless fire? It is, I admit, a fearful thing to fall unprepared into the hands of the living God; but if I must choose, give me that, a thousand times, rather than the terrific possibilities that overhang us all if we are to be eternally at the disposal of a blind, inexorable, soulless, merciless "Nature." The Judge of all the earth will do right; at the worst we shall receive no more at his hands than we deserve; but no created being can tell us what we shall receive at the hands of an irresponsible, pitiless "Nature" though she be "the mother of us all." There is nothing so dark and terrible in all the woes of the Bible as the possibilities that Mr. ---- offers us in his gospel; and there is this difference: the Bible opens wide a door of hope for all who care to enter it; Mr. ---- leads us out into the outer darkness and leaves us there. Is it worth while for any man to spend his life in persuading us to make this exchange of despair? And is it worth our while--yours or mine--to make it? Truly yours, C----. LETTER III. MY DEAR A----: In the note in which you kindly acknowledge my former communications you say that, whatever Christianity may be to me, you cannot see it as I do; its excellences, as they appear to my mind, do not impress you at all, and as long as they do not you cannot be expected to accept it. I admit the conclusion: you cannot receive as good and true what does not seem to be so. But does it follow that a thing is not good and true because you do not see it? The question still comes, Is the cause in the thing or in you? You remember the Beethoven concert we once attended together in B----? To you it was an occasion of exquisite enjoyment; to me it was nothing. The difference was not in the music: it was in us. You have a musical taste; I have not. I tried--not very sincerely, perhaps--to persuade you that there was nothing beautiful in it; you smiled, but attempted no argument. You were wise. You knew the music was beautiful, for you had experienced it; you had felt its power. If I chose to deny it because I had not felt it, so it must be; you could only pity me. Now, is it not possible that there may be something like this in religion? May it not be a reality--a supreme reality--though you do not see it or feel it? May I not know it to be real because I have felt its power? And if there are thousands and tens of thousands as intelligent men and women as the world has ever seen who are as ready to testify that they have felt the power and experienced the reality of the Christian religion as you are to testify that you have felt the power and know the sweetness of music, are you wise to dismiss its claims because _you_ have not felt the force of them? You must see this. I leave it to your candor. Christianity may be true though you have not felt its truth. A cloud of witnesses stand ready to testify to you its truth from personal experience. They may not argue with you: multitudes of them could not argue with you; but, after all, they have a proof of the reality of their religion, of the power of Christ to satisfy and bless men, which no arguments in the world can shake. If all this were a new thing, or if the witnesses were only ignorant and superstitious men, you might well enough hesitate to receive the testimony; but when you reflect that it is the accumulated testimony of nearly nineteen centuries, that it comes from all countries and all classes, from the prince on the throne and the beggar at his gate, from the philosopher in his study and the sailor in the forecastle, from the statesman in the cabinet and the ploughman in the furrow, I submit it cannot with wisdom or reason be set aside. It is no answer to say that many great men and learned men and ploughmen can be brought who have had no such experience and give no such testimony. This is true, but it is one of the first laws of evidence that no amount of merely negative testimony can overthrow the explicit evidence of honest, intelligent, trustworthy witnesses. Fifty men who did not see a murder could not set aside the clear testimony of two who did see it. Few of the race have ever seen the moons of Mars, or even of Jupiter; this does not disturb the witness of the few who have: the satellites are there. I have just been reading--not for the first time--Peter Harvey's account of his visit, with Daniel Webster, to John Colby. You will find it in Harvey's _Reminiscences of Webster_; and if you have not read it, it is worth your reading. Colby had married Webster's oldest sister when Webster was a mere boy. It was in some respects a strange marriage. She was a godly, Christian woman, while Colby was a wild, reckless, ungodly man--"the wickedest man in the neighborhood," Webster believed, "as far as swearing and impiety went." He seems to have been the terror of Webster's boyhood. Singularly enough for New England, though a man of strong natural powers, he never learned to read till he was over eighty years of age. His wife died early, and the families drifted apart. Webster had not seen Colby for over forty years, but he heard that a great change had taken place with him, and he visited him to judge for himself. I should mar the story of the interview if I undertook to condense it. Let me give the essential parts of it in Mr. Harvey's own words. Long as it is, I think you would be sorry to have it shorter. Webster and Harvey had driven to Andover, and were directed to Mr. Colby's house. "The door was open.... Sitting in the middle of the room was a striking figure who proved to be John Colby. He sat facing the door, in a very comfortably furnished farmhouse room, with a little table--or what perhaps would be called a light-stand--before him. Upon it was a large, old-fashioned Scott's Family Bible in very large print, and, of course, a heavy volume. It lay open, and he had evidently been reading it attentively. As we entered he took off his spectacles and laid them upon the page of the book, and looked up at us as we approached, Mr. Webster in front. He was a man, I should think, over six feet in height, and he retained in a wonderful degree his erect and manly form, although he was eighty-five or six years old. His frame was that of a once powerful, athletic man. His head was covered with very heavy, thick, bushy hair, and it was as white as wool, which added very much to the picturesqueness of his appearance. As I looked in at the door I thought I never saw a more striking figure. He straightened himself up, but said nothing till just as we appeared at the door, when he greeted us with-- "'Walk in, gentlemen.' "Mr. Webster's first salutation was-- "'This is Mr. Colby--Mr. John Colby--is it not?' "'That is my name, sir,' was the reply. "'I suppose you don't know me?' said Mr. Webster. "'No, sir, I don't know you; and I should like to know how you know me.' "'I have seen you before, Mr. Colby,' replied Mr. Webster. "'Seen me before!' said he; 'pray, when and where?' "'Have you no recollection of me?' asked Mr. Webster. "'No, sir, not the slightest;' and he looked by Mr. Webster toward me, as if trying to remember if he had seen me. "Mr. Webster remarked, "'I think you never saw this gentleman before, but you have seen me.' "Colby put the question again, "'When and where?' "'You married my oldest sister,' replied Mr. Webster, calling her by name. "'I married your oldest sister!' exclaimed Colby. 'Who are you?' "'I am "little Dan,"' was the reply. "It certainly would be impossible to describe the expression of wonder, astonishment and half incredulity that came over Colby's face. "'_You_ Daniel Webster!' said he; and he started to rise from his chair. As he did so he stammered out some words of surprise. 'Is it possible that this is the little black lad that used to ride the horse to water? Well, I cannot realize it!' "Mr. Webster approached him. They embraced each other, and both wept. "'Is it possible,' said Mr. Colby, when the embarrassment of the first shock of recognition was past, 'that you have come up here to see me? Is this Daniel? Why! why!' said he, 'I cannot believe my senses. Now, sit down. I am glad--oh, I am so glad to see you, Daniel. I never expected to see you again. I don't know what to say. I am so glad that my life has been spared that I might see you. Why, Daniel, I read about you and hear about you in all ways. Sometimes some members of the family come and tell us about you, and the newspapers tell us a great deal about you, too. Your name seems to be constantly in the newspapers. They say that you are a great man--that you are a famous man--and you can't tell how delighted I am when I hear such things. But, Daniel, the time is short; you will not stay here long: I want to ask you one important question. You may be a _great_ man: are you a _good_ man? Are you a Christian man? Do you love the Lord Jesus Christ? That is the only question that is worth asking or answering? Are you a Christian? You know, Daniel, what I have been: I have been one of the wickedest of men. Your poor sister, who is now in heaven, knows that. But the Spirit of Christ and of almighty God has come down and plucked me as a brand from the everlasting burning. I am here now, a monument to his grace. Oh, Daniel, I would not give what is contained within the covers of this book for all the honors that have been conferred upon men from the creation of the world until now. For what good would it do? It is all nothing, and less than nothing, if you are not a Christian, if you are not repentant. If you do not love the Lord Jesus Christ in sincerity and truth, all your worldly honors will sink to utter nothingness. Are you a Christian? Do you love Christ? You have not answered me.' "All this was said in the most earnest and even vehement manner. "'John Colby,' replied Mr. Webster, 'you have asked me a very important question, and one which should not be answered lightly. I intend to give you an answer, and one that is truthful, or I will not give you any. I hope that I am a Christian. I profess to be a Christian. But, while I say that, I wish to add--and I say it with shame and confusion of face--that I am not such a Christian as I wish I were. I have lived in the world, surrounded by its honors and its temptations, and I am afraid, John Colby, that I am not so good a Christian as I ought to be. I am afraid I have not your faith and your hopes; but still I hope and trust that I am a Christian, and that the same grace which has converted you and made you an heir of salvation will do the same for me. I trust it, and I also trust, John Colby--and it will not be long before our summons will come--that we shall meet in a better world, and meet those who have gone before us whom we knew, and who trusted in that same divine free grace. It will not be long. You cannot tell, John Colby, how much delight it gave me to hear of your conversion. The hearing of that is what has led me here to-day. I came here to see with my own eyes and hear with my own ears the story from a man that I know and remember so well. What a wicked man you used to be!' "'Oh, Daniel,' exclaimed John Colby, 'you don't remember how wicked I was, how ungrateful I was, how unthankful I was. I never thought of God; I never cared for God; I was worse than a heathen. Living in a Christian land with the light shining all around me and the blessings of Sabbath teachings everywhere about me, I was worse than a heathen until I was arrested by the grace of Christ and made to see my sinfulness and to hear the voice of my Saviour. Now I am only waiting to go home to him, and to meet your sainted sister, my poor wife. And I wish, Daniel, that you might be a prayerful Christian; and I trust you are. Daniel,' he added, with deep earnestness of voice, 'Will you pray with me?' "We knelt down, and Mr. Webster offered a most touching prayer. As soon as he had pronounced the 'Amen,' Mr. Colby followed in a most pathetic, stirring appeal to God. He prayed for the family, for me and for everybody. Then we rose, and he seemed to feel a serene happiness in having thus joined his spirit with that of Mr. Webster in prayer.... "The brothers-in-law took an affectionate leave of each other, and we left. Mr. Webster could hardly restrain his tears. When we got into the wagon, he began to moralize: "'I should like,' said he, 'to know what the enemies of religion would say to John Colby's conversion. There was a man as unlikely, humanly speaking, to become a Christian as any man I ever saw. He was reckless, heedless, impious--never attended church, never experienced the good influence of associating with religious people--and here he has been living on in that reckless way until he has got to be an old man, until a period of life when you naturally would not expect his habits to change, and yet he has been brought into the condition in which we have seen him to-day, a penitent, trusting, humble believer. Whatever people may say,' added Mr. Webster, 'nothing can convince me that anything short of the grace of almighty God could make such a change as I with my own eyes have witnessed in the life of John Colby.'" Mr. Colby was eighty-four years old at the time of his conversion. At that age he learned to read for the single purpose of reading the Bible, and it was the only book he ever did read. He lived for three years after this, and to the end gave the clearest evidences of a change that to Mr. Webster's judicial mind could be explained only by the supposition of a divine interposition; it was a divine reality. The last intelligible words of the once terrible blasphemer were, "Jesus! glory!" Changing the details, the experience of John Colby has been the experience of thousands upon thousands. And--I put it to you in all candor--is it all a lie? Was Webster--one of the grandest intellects of this or of any age--was he a fanatic or a fool to believe in the reality of the religion that John Colby had experienced? Was he a weakling to put his faith where John Colby had put his, and to trust that when the summons of both should come--as it soon did come--they might meet each other and those who had gone before them trusting in the same divine, free grace? You may criticise the Bible, you may criticise Christians, but, after all, there is something in Christianity that cannot be explained away as a superstition or a delusion; there is something that cannot be dismissed by a scoff or with indifference. Somewhere and at some time it will have the final word, and it will be heard. I commend it to your honest and earnest judgment now. Try it; I ask no more. Settle the great questions that press on every heart as the Bible opens the way of settlement to you, and wait the issue. You can lose nothing; you may gain everything. The fact is as remarkable as it is familiar that no man in the last hour here--the hour, often, of supernal light--ever wanted to take back or to change his faith in the Man of Nazareth as the Son of God and the Saviour of men. When the shadows are melting in the great realities, and the mysteries of life are about to be finished and the verities of the future are to be proved, no man has yet been found to mourn that in the face of all difficulty and doubt and denial here he was a Christian. Can that, or anything approaching it, be said of any form of atheism or infidelity or unbelief? As ever, yours, C----. LETTER IV. MY DEAR A----: I had supposed my last letter would end our correspondence. Your kind reply has gratified me more than I can express. Without further words, let me take up at once the question that you put, I am sure, sincerely. You ask, "What _is_ 'the way of settlement that the Bible opens to the great questions that press us?'" The questions of supreme interest are few and simple. Is there a God? Is there a future existence for us? How can that existence be made a safe and satisfying one? If you are willing to allow any authority to the Bible at all, there can be no doubt as to the first two questions. There is a God by whom we were created and to whom we are responsible; there is a future existence. Those two questions are settled, if the Bible can settle anything. And they are settled, let me add, in harmony with the profoundest instincts and the most imperative demands of our nature. Whatever a few souls in their struggling dissatisfaction and sad unrest may persuade themselves, the great yearning heart of humanity will quiet itself on nothing less than God and immortality. Even your former guide, Mr. ---- (let me hope I may speak of him now as only your _former_ guide), cries out in the presence of the dead and before the awful silence of the grave, "_Immortality_ is a word that hope through all the ages has been whispering to love. All wish for happiness beyond this life; all hope to meet again the loved and lost." Yes, there are hours when the most hopeless are glad to turn to the hope that the Bible alone gives, when the bitterest rejecters of God and his word long for the consolation that only the rejected word affords. Let us turn to the other question. If, when we are through with this life--as we soon shall be through with it--we are not through with existence--if there is a life beyond the present not measured by years or ages,--how can it be made worth having? Is there any way in which our immortality can be assured to us as an immortal good? After all the doubts and darkness, the mystery and suffering, the bitterness and disappointment, of this life, may it in any way be found a great and a good thing, after all, that we have lived? To answer these questions we must come back to the old truth--the truth of your childhood. The "advanced thought" of our day has discovered nothing to change the fact that men are out of the way, they are not what they should be. Every man knows this. The Bible expresses it in a very plain way by saying _they are sinners_. As such it deals with them; to such alone it opens its door of hope. The Bible is of no use to you unless you are a sinner. If you call this cant, I am sorry for it, but I cannot help it; I cannot change it. The only men for whom God is dealing here for good, for whom he is making possible an immortality of honor and happiness, are the sinful. And is not this well for us? Does it not at once bring hope to you--a hope as great as it is mysterious? You know that life has not been to you an unstained thing any more than it has been to any of us. To know this is to know sin, the one appalling fact of the universe, the one unspeakable woe of our being. In the simplest way, then, my dear A----, let me say that the first step in your coming right with God, and so right with the future, is to know and to feel that you are wrong. The Bible closes the door of hope for ever on the man who comes claiming the brightness and the good of a life beyond the grave because he is worthy of it. These words were once familiar to you: "By the deeds of the law there shall no flesh be justified." Rom. iii. 20. Can he who is wrong make himself right? Can he be all he ought to be? Can he do all he ought to do? Can you set right all the wrong and all the failure of the past? Can you make the future without error? To ask these questions is to answer them to every honest conscience. For one who is wrong there must be the consequences of wrong, and these must be as fearful and as far-reaching as sin itself. "Whatsoever a man soweth, that shall he also reap," and evermore and everywhere the harvest is greater than the seed. The coming tribulation and anguish of the unsaved souls that do evil is a law of nature as well as of revelation. The wages of sin is death. You know this. You have felt it in its measure. You have seen it in the unhappiness, the misery, the woe, the despair and death with which sin reigns everywhere around us. Take the brightest view of life that you can, and the darkness in which it ends is terrible. To go out of it without God is to go out without hope. Am I wrong in believing that you need no argument here, that no conviction is more sorrowfully intense with you than this? Will you go now a step farther? Standing in your wrong and your weakness and your unrest, with the heavy shadows of the future falling upon you, are you willing to draw near to the open portal of a better life? Are you willing to look up and read over it--"God so loved the world that he gave his only-begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life"? John iii. 16. Are you willing to submit your faith to the mystery--beyond all depth except the love of God--that the Son of God in our nature has borne our sins in his own body on the tree--that he has died for us, the Just for the unjust? In other words, are you willing to receive the kingdom of heaven as a little child--to be saved, if saved you may be, in God's own way? In a former letter I spoke of the testimony of Webster to the reality of the Christian religion; and, though it is true that Christianity does not depend upon the patronage of any man, it is well to know that greater intellects than those that would persuade you to reject it have bowed before it and found their supreme hope in it. Let me give you, then, another testimony from this greatest of American statesmen and jurists. It was his last night on earth; that life of extraordinary influence and honor was closing. As his family and friends stood around his bed his physician repeated the immortal hymn of Cowper: "There is a fountain filled with blood Drawn from Immanuel's veins, And sinners, plunged beneath that flood, Lose all their guilty stains." As upon the night-air died away the final stanza-- "Then in a nobler, sweeter song I'll sing thy power to save When this poor, lisping, stammering tongue Lies silent in the grave," the majestic voice that had thrilled courts and senates, was heard in a clear thrice-repeated "Amen! Amen! Amen!" And so he passed, let us hope, to have part in that final song. Pity, infinite pity, that he had not made more of that magnificent intellect for the Giver of it! But at least he was too great a man to deny the Love and the Sacrifice by which alone the life of the greatest as well as the feeblest can be saved from being an eternal tragedy. I know, my dear A----, the derision with which all this may be received, but my hope is that you have passed beyond that point of intellectual self-conceit and moral self-murder. At all events, this is the only ground of a safe immortality that the Bible holds out, and beyond the Bible there is no ground. If you ever settle safely the solemn questions of the future, you will settle them here. If you ever find the rest for which I know you are weary, you will find it at the cross and in the presence of Him who hung upon it, and whose words are to-day, as of old, "Come unto me, and I will give you rest." In all this I know there is nothing new to you. I had nothing new to say; I wished simply to make a plea for the faith of your earlier years. It is easy to put it aside, but, after all, it is a faith that will stand. The evidence of nineteen centuries from millions of honest and intelligent witnesses, of all ranks and conditions, living and dying, to the power of this faith to sustain in the most solemn crises of life, when flesh and heart are failing, and when the darkness and anguish and mystery of death are rocking the soul to its foundations, cannot wisely be dismissed as a delusion: there must be a reality behind it. The lights that have gone out from your own home and heart you were right in believing have "not gone out in darkness," but you will not forget that as they went into purer light they went with Him who has brought life and immortality to light, who is the Resurrection and the Life, in whom believing, though we were dead, yet shall we live. Here I must rest. I can only commend you to God and to the word of his grace--to the written word and to the incarnate Word, to the Bible and to Christ. I am as certain as I am of my own existence that if you will give yourself up to the guidance of these you will be satisfied and you will be saved. If you will only take the Bible _and follow it_, you will find an assurance of its truth that cannot be shaken; you will find rest, for you will find Christ. And surely it is not too much to ask that in a matter of such infinite importance you make a fair, honest and thorough trial of that which no man ever yet made trial of to be disappointed. Yet let me not fail to impress as a final thought that this result of good and of peace will come _only by the power of the Holy Spirit_. It is his to take of the things of Christ and show them to us; unless he does this, we cannot see them. My last word of entreaty, then, is--and I would make it as earnestly as conviction and feeling and language can make it--yield to the Spirit of God. The end you want is too great for your own strength. You have proved this. You have struggled on long enough in your own plans and your own way, seeking rest, and you are as far from rest as ever. Try now another way. Take hold of a higher strength. "Ask, and ye shall receive; seek, and ye shall find." I plead with you by all the memories of the past and by all the hopes of the future. You have sinned, and I would not heal the hurt slightly. No one knows better than you that if the Bible is true you have a long and dark account against you--if not of open and flagrant sin, yet to the Mind that makes no mistakes of that which is perhaps far worse, of calm, deliberate, persistent rejection of Christ and of his Spirit. It would be faithlessness and cruelty to hide the fact that by all the verities of God you are in peril--in fearful peril. To stand in darkness where no light is is sad enough; but when Light is come into the world and men stand in darkness, there is sin that seals its own doom. As the case is now, the very unrest of your soul--its dark gropings, its unsatisfied yearnings, its sighs of despair--all this is the living witness of your danger, the prophecy of a deeper gloom and woe to come. But as yet it is also the voice of God's mercy; it is the plea of his Spirit calling you to the only rest that the universe has for the erring and the sinful. The Spirit of God is very pitiful. Every thought of good is from him; every desire for a better life is his inspiration; every penitent sigh is his breath. I believe he is not far from you; I believe, therefore, you are not far from the kingdom of heaven. Quench not the Spirit. Do not go down in darkness in sight of the City of Light. You remember the circumstances of our return from Europe in the fall of 18--. We were young then, but the events are still vivid in my memory, as they are no doubt in yours. For two days we were delayed in Liverpool by a fearful storm. In that storm the Royal Charter was coming in, having made successfully the voyage of the world. She had been signaled, and was already in the Channel; her arrival was looked for every hour. Dear friends of those we were leaving were on board. The fires were lighted on the hearth, and the table was spread for the long-absent ones, and glad hearts were waiting impatiently to give them joyful welcome. But they never came; in sight of the harbor and of the lights of home they went down--the four hundred of that doomed ship. The next day we passed the silent wreck as we came out, and I am sure you thought, as I did, how unutterably sad and pathetic is such an end, to perish in sight of home. Our voyage, dear A----, is almost over. The harbor is near; the lights of the eternal home are in sight; the table is spread, and dear ones--yours and mine--are waiting there to give us glad and everlasting welcome. Do not make wreck of life and hope and immortality in the very sight of home. Yours, in the bonds of early years, C----. Since these letters were written, he to whom they were addressed has gone where human arguments and pleadings cannot reach him. In a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, he passed from the scenes of a busy, honored and prosperous life into the solemn mysteries that lie beyond our horizon. On his desk was found the following unfinished letter, written the night before his death: MY DEAR C----: I have not misapprehended the spirit and motive of your letters. I have read them--more than once--with care and, I believe, with candor. When a man stands in the shadow of a great and awful change--and my physician warns me that my lifework may end suddenly--he is a fool who deals any other way than seriously and honestly with the questions you discuss. If I cannot say that your reasoning removes all my doubts, I can most sincerely say this, even though it may be, in your judgment, at the cost of my consistency: _I would give the world to have your faith and hope_. While I have been glad to have the arguments of Mr. ---- to support my own faith or want of faith, I will be candid and say that I have not been at rest. Life has been terribly empty and hopeless since I felt, with Professor Clifford, that "the Great Companion is dead." I have had success, as the world goes, but what of it? What does it amount to? What is to be the end of it all? No God! No immortality! Nothing beyond this little circle whose utmost limit I seem to be even now touching! Is it so? I am writing at midnight--an hour when these questions often come to me with the pressure of despair. Oh to be a child again with a child's faith, a child's peace! My mother-- * * * * * Here the letter ended. Did the thought of his mother open the door of his aching heart to his mother's God and his mother's Christ? So let us hope. There is a mercy that is from everlasting to everlasting upon them that fear God, and a righteousness that is unto children's children to such as keep his covenant. Lying upon the letter was the following slip, cut from a newspaper. It was stained apparently with tears, and was probably the last thing that my friend read. It could hardly be the expression of any heart to whom the "hand of mercy" was not already "opening the wicket-gate:" "'Mid the fast-falling shadows, Weary and worn and late, A timid, doubting pilgrim, I reach the wicket-gate. Where crowds have stood before me I stand alone to-night, And in the deepening darkness Pray for one gleam of light. "From the foul sloughs and marshes I've gathered many a stain; I've heard old voices calling From far across the plain. Now, in my wretched weakness, Fearful and sad I wait, And every refuge fails me, Here at the wicket-gate. "And will the portals open To me who roamed so long Filthy and vile and burdened With this great weight of wrong? Hark! a glad voice of welcome Bids my wild fears abate. Look! for a hand of mercy Opens the wicket-gate. "On, to the palace Beautiful And the bright room called Peace! Down, to the silent river, Where thou shalt find release! Up, to the radiant city, Where shining ones await! On! for the way of glory Lies through the wicket-gate." DIFFICULTIES OF THE BIBLE. DIFFICULTIES OF THE BIBLE AS TESTED BY THE LAWS OF EVIDENCE.[1] [1] The substance of this essay was given as an address before the Bible Conference in Philadelphia in November, 1887. It has, however, been revised and considerably changed with reference to its present use.--T. S. C. One has to breathe but little of the atmosphere of popular thought to-day to find how full it is of religious doubt. Parental faiths count for little. The beliefs of childhood, the teachings of the sainted dead, the hopes that once brightened the darkness and mysteries and griefs of life with the light of a cloudless future, are to multitudes no more. "The eclipse of faith" has come, and souls are drifting out upon the starless, shoreless sea of unbelief. They see "the spring sun shining out of an empty heaven to light up a soulless earth." They take up the wail of despair: "We are all to be swept away in the final ruin of the earth." This is the deep, pathetic undertone of the sighing of a thousand hearts to-day. Has life anything real? Is it worth living? When the little play is over, and the hour's music is ended, and the lights are out, and we go forth into the darkness of the final night--what then? Is it darkness for ever? or is there the light of an eternal day? Who knows? Is anything certain? Must nations and men and the evening-moth alike go down and perish for ever under the crush of an inexorable fate? Is there no rift in this cloud? Have we no anchor that will hold as the storm drives us on through the blinding mists and gloom to the eternal shore? Have we no sure word of promise to which we can cling when everything else around us and under our feet is giving way? _Is the Bible true?_ That is the simple but momentous question; it settles all other questions of most concern to men. To it, therefore, we find the most intense thought of thoughtful men converging. That from this there should emerge questions not easily solved is not to be wondered at: they emerge in every inquiry of human thought. The only thing to be asked is that these questions be dealt with candidly and fairly. To many minds the Bible is still on trial; it is only just that in its trial those rules and principles shall be observed which men everywhere expect and demand shall be observed for themselves when they or their interests are to be tried. This is the point of this essay. It is not, indeed, a discussion from the highest ground of inspiration; it does not claim to be. It simply deals with a certain class--a very large class, however--of alleged difficulties of the Bible, and it appeals to the candid reader to deal with them as fairly and by the same rules as he would have his fellow-men deal with him in a matter of life or death, or of any worldly interest. For this object only a few of the common rules of evidence have been taken. It is believed, however, that their application will cover a very large portion of the popular objections to the alleged inconsistencies and contradictions of the Bible. Undoubtedly, there are difficulties in the Bible; the question is whether these prove that it is not the work and word of God. On the other hand, it may be suggested whether they do not confirm it as the work of God, for they at once put it in harmony with all his other works. If the Bible were without difficulties, it would, for us, be out of the line with everything else that God has made or done. Nature and Providence are full of difficulties. There is nothing in the Bible harder of explanation and reconciliation than are the facts that meet us everywhere in God's creative and providential realms. If these difficulties do not prove that Nature and Providence are not, from beginning to end, the works of God, they do not on the face of them prove that the Bible is not such. In dealing with the difficulties of the Scriptures, therefore, we have not the least idea that they will all be removed: difficulties will remain. The Lord of hosts himself is a stone of stumbling and a rock of offence upon which many stumble and fall and are broken. Isa. viii. 14, 15. If a man is determined to commit suicide, he can do it by the very means that God has created to preserve life--by fire or by water. Spiritual self-destruction is quite possible through the word of life itself. At the same time, no man has a right to put needless difficulties in the Bible or to make difficulties where none exist. More than this, every man is bound to deal as fairly at least with the Bible as he deals with his fellow-men in the ordinary relations of life. That which would give him no trouble as a judge upon the bench or a juror in the box ought not to be urged as a fatal objection to the Scriptures. In testing at this time some of the difficulties of the Bible by the accepted rules of evidence, hardly more can be done than to present a few of these rules as applicable to these difficulties. But the rules are of the widest application; the solution of one difficulty by them is the solution of a hundred. Looking upon the Bible as a whole, we may refer for a moment to the familiar precept that every man is to be presumed innocent until he is proved guilty. This is emphatically true of a man of good general reputation. The rule would seem as applicable to a book as to a man. Now, the Bible is not a new book; it has been before the world for ages. It has a character. That it is on the whole a good book the bitterest opposers of its plenary inspiration not only admit, but assert. It is conceded that it is entitled to its name--the _Bible_, _the_ Book. It claims to be a truthful book; by every fair principle this claim must be allowed until it is shown to be false. Bancroft's _History of the United States_ claims to be a reliable work; the claim is generally admitted. If a man now comes forward and asserts that it is false in whole or in details, by universal judgment he must prove his assertion, and obviously his proofs must be stronger than the evidences of the truth of the history. If this is so in reference to a book that has not stood the test of half a century, emphatically is it true of a book whose character has been established through the searching scrutiny of friends and foes for fifteen centuries--ay, for twice fifteen centuries. If a man now affirms the Bible to be false, wholly or in part, it rests upon him in all fairness to prove his position, and his evidence must be stronger than that which supports the book. For three thousand years a growing mass of testimony to the truth of the Bible has been rolling up in the face of every objection that ingenuity, learning and the bitterest hostility could present. Account for it as we may, that is the fact. There is, therefore, a reasonable presumption in its favor, and in favor of any specific statement that it makes. If, then, we find in it a positive statement in regard to any fact, and that statement is now confronted by another and a contradictory one, the two do not stand on the same level. The new claimant must prove his position, and to prove it he must disprove the truth of the Scripture record. It is not enough to show that his proposition might be true if we had no other information on the subject: he must show that the Scripture, with its mass of supporting and cumulative evidence, is false; and he must support his new proposition by a body of evidence stronger than this manifold evidence of ages by which the Scriptures are sustained. The application of this principle is obvious, yet nothing is more common than its violation. An hypothesis with certain analogies perhaps in its favor, but admittedly without a solitary positive proof to sustain it, is put forward as an established truth without regard to the fact that the Bible, with its general character of veracity behind it, gives another and an entirely different account of the matter. We will not say this is irreverent: it is unfair and unreasonable. The character of the Bible may justly claim to sustain its record till it is proved false. Deal with it as fairly as you deal with the red-handed anarchist: let the book be innocent till proved guilty; and if innocent, the written word, like the incarnate Word, stands a true witness in all things for ever. Condemned, crucified, buried, it will rise again. It is a perilous thing to condemn the guiltless. Let us pass to another rule of law; it is this: "The testimony of a single witness, where there is no ground for suspecting either his ability or integrity, is a sufficient legal ground for belief" (_Starkie on Ev._, i. 550). The mere silence of one witness or of many witnesses cannot set aside the clear, positive testimony of a single trustworthy witness. That Josephus does not mention events which Moses records does not affect the truth of the Mosaic record, and his silence as to the Bethlehem massacre--even if no reason could be suggested for it, as there can be--cannot, under this rule of law, affect the positive testimony of Matthew that there was such a massacre. The courts go farther than this. They say, "If a witness swear positively that he saw or heard a fact, and another _who was present_ that he did not see or hear it, and the witnesses are equally faithworthy, the affirmative witness is to be believed" (_Decisions of the Supreme Court of Errors of the State of Connecticut_, vol. vi. p. 188). In the case referred to in that decision the court set aside a verdict that had been rendered by the lower court on the negative testimony of eleven witnesses against the positive testimony of three. The principle recognized by that decision, and which is universally accepted as law, is that the negative testimony of witnesses present at any given transaction cannot set aside the positive testimony of a far less number of witnesses, or even of a single reliable witness. The silence of any of the evangelists in reference to an incident or event at which they may have been present, but which possibly they may not have noticed or which they do not record, does not contradict in the least the testimony of _one_ who says such an incident occurred. The fact of the marriage in Cana is not at all disturbed because John is the only witness who testifies to it. So if one writer states a part of an incident or of a discourse which another writer omits, while the latter gives a part which the first omits, there is no contradiction. Matthew (xx. 20) says the mother of Zebedee's children made a certain request which Mark (x. 35) says the children themselves made. But this is not inconsistent: the children united with the mother in the request. Matthew calls attention to one party; Mark, to another. Nothing can be more unreasonable than the cavil that stumbles at such difficulties. The rule before us applies to that extraordinary doubt of modern criticism--whether the Israelites were ever in Egypt, because, as affirmed, the monuments do not record their presence nor their flight nor the destruction of the Egyptian host at the Red Sea. Now, leaving out of the argument the strong probability that the monuments do refer to their presence in Egypt, and the further probability that the Egyptians would not be likely to preserve on their monuments the record of their own ignominy and overthrow, the objection could not stand for a moment in any court of justice in the presence of the positive testimony of the record to the history in Egypt--all the more as this testimony is sustained by an extraordinary weight of incidental corroborative evidence, and is involved in the whole subsequent history of the nation. Grant, if you will, that there are improbabilities in parts of the history; still, the courts rule that "mere improbability can rarely supply a sufficient ground for disbelieving direct and unexceptionable witnesses of the fact where there was no room for mistake" (_Starkie_, i. 558; see also _Greenleaf on Ev._, i. 1, 14, 15). That canon, fairly applied, sweeps away no inconsiderable portion of the objections to the Scripture histories. Take the great decisive fact of the resurrection of Christ--a fact that carries with it the whole Christian system and the verity of the whole Christian revelation. It is a fact of testimony--of the testimony of many witnesses, under a great variety of circumstances, at many times and places, and extending through so long a period as to preclude all reasonable or admissible supposition of "mistake." No fact of ancient history can be proved by testimony if the resurrection of Christ cannot be. The proof stands by itself, positive, direct, unexceptionable as to the character and capacity of the witnesses. It is proof that the law declares cannot be set aside by "mere improbability;" and if this fact is established, everything essential to Christianity is established. The seal of the risen Christ is on the Old Testament; his blood is on the New Testament. It is, throughout, the living book of the slain and living Lord. Another very important rule of law is this: "In cases of conflicting evidence, the first step in the process of inquiry must naturally and obviously be to ascertain whether the apparent inconsistencies and incongruities which it presents may not without violence be reconciled" (_Starkie_, i. 578). "Where there is an apparent inconsistency or contradiction in the testimony of witnesses, such construction shall be put upon it as to make it agree if possible, for perjury is not to be presumed" (_6 Conn._ 189). Nothing is more remarkable than the constant violation of this rule by many of the critics of the Bible; their effort is to see, not if the testimony can be made to agree, but if by any possibility it can be forced to appear contradictory. It is hardly putting it too strongly to say that many of these efforts would not be considered respectable, and would not be tolerated by the critics themselves, if they concerned any other book than the Bible and any other subject than Christianity. The courts take even stronger ground on the obligation of harmonizing apparently conflicting evidence. If the elements of reconciliation are not found in the evidence itself, they insist on the admission of any reasonable supposition that will explain the difficulty. "Where doubt arises," says Starkie (_Ev._ i. 586), "from circumstances of an apparently opposite and conflicting tendency, the first step in the natural order of inquiry is to ascertain whether they be not in reality reconcilable, especially when circumstances cannot be rejected without imputing perjury to a witness; for perjury is not to be presumed, and in the absence of all suspicion that hypothesis is to be adopted which consists with and reconciles all the circumstances which the case supplies." (See also _Starkie_, i. 578, 582.) Take the familiar case of the taxing when Cyrenius was governor of Syria. Luke ii. 2. Everybody knows how confidently it was asserted that Luke was in error because Cyrenius' government of Syria was several years later than Luke makes it; equally, every one knows how that difficulty was met by the supposition, made almost a certainty, that Cyrenius was twice governor of Syria--once at the time in question, and once later. Even if the supposition were not as probable as it is, if there were no other way of solving the difficulty, we should be justified by the principle of law in assuming it rather than to assume that a witness as intelligent as Luke, and with his opportunities of knowledge and with no motive for misstatement, should either wilfully or carelessly have made so gross an error. Here the rule fits perfectly: "In the absence of all suspicion, _that hypothesis is to be adopted which consists with and reconciles all the circumstances which the case supplies_." In regard to certain objections to the Mosaic record--for example, the improbability of the desert sustaining the host of the Israelites: we select this as an example of a mass of like objections--Dean Stanley, while holding in general to the historic fact, says the recorded miracles do not meet the difficulty and we have no right to add to them; for "if we have no warrant to take away, we have no warrant to add." If by this he meant we have no right to add to the inspired word _as a part of it_ what is not in it, he is quite correct; but if he meant, as he evidently did, that we have no right to make a reasonable supposition to explain an apparent difficulty of the word, no utterance can be more groundless. He might as well object that Moses could not possibly have led the Israelites through the desert forty years because no man could do that without sleeping, and the record does not say that Moses slept during all that time, and "we have no warrant to add" to the record. The same difficulty is urged by others from the present barrenness of the desert, which it is contended is substantially as it was in the time of the Exodus. This is to be met not so much by hypothesis as by the facts--(1) that the condition of the desert was very different then from its condition now. Because the country around Philadelphia cannot now support a tribe of Indians by hunting and fishing, it does not follow that it could not do this two hundred years ago. (2) God had undertaken to bring the nation out. If every miracle necessary to accomplish this end is not recorded, it does not prove that it was not wrought. As in the life of our Lord, so in the deliverance of Israel, many miracles may have been wrought of which no account has come down to us. This suggests an obvious and a very important consideration: _facts may now be missing_ which were perfectly well known at the time of the event, but the record of which has not been preserved. Hence, if a difficulty can be removed by a reasonable supposition, or even by any admissible supposition, of a missing fact, we are entitled to make that supposition. Webster (_Works_, vol. vi. p. 64) in his address to the jury on the celebrated trial of the Knapps for the murder of Captain White of Salem, Massachusetts, says: "In explaining circumstances of evidence which are apparently irreconcilable or unaccountable, if a fact be suggested which at once accounts for all and reconciles all, by whomsoever it may be stated, it is still difficult not to believe that such fact is the true fact belonging to the case." The missing fact that was wanted in this case to show a motive for the murder was the stealing of a will, or the purpose to steal a will, and this proved the true hypothesis. To illustrate by a familiar incident of the Old Testament history. The prophets Jeremiah and Ezekiel foretell the fate of the last king of Judah, Zedekiah. Jer. xxxii.; Ezek. xii. They declare that he shall be taken captive by the king of Babylon, that he shall go to Babylon and that he shall die in Babylon; yet Ezekiel expressly says that he shall not see Babylon. Now, here is apparently as gross a contradiction as there can be; and if our information stopped here, it would be impossible to reconcile it. Fortunately, however, the explanation is given in the history. From 2 Kings xxv. we learn that the king of Babylon, when Zedekiah was brought into his presence at Riblah, ordered his eyes to be put out and sent him blind to Babylon; so that he saw the king of Babylon, he went to Babylon, he died in Babylon, and yet he never saw Babylon. But--and this is the point of this familiar case--if this unexpected and extraordinary fact had not been stated, how absolutely impossible it would have been to give any satisfactory solution of the difficulty! It may be doubted whether any supposition as violent as this needs to be made to reconcile every alleged contradiction of the Bible. A remarkable illustration of the power of a missing fact occurs in the history of the overthrow of Babylon itself. The Scripture account (Dan. v.) says that Belshazzar was king of Babylon, that he was in the city, engaged in a feast, at the time of its capture, and that he was slain. Reliable secular historians give the name of the king as Nabonnedus or Labynetus, and state that he was not in the city when it was captured, that he was not killed, but taken prisoner, kindly treated and allowed to retire to private life. These different accounts were not only eagerly seized upon by skeptics as proofs of the error of the Scriptures, but even biblical scholars admitted them to be incapable of reconciliation. No longer ago than when the writer was in the theological seminary that prince of biblical students, Addison Alexander, said that no solution of the difficulty was known; he was too wise a man to say that no solution was possible. Kitto, in his _Cyclopedia_, declared that no hypothesis _could_ harmonize the accounts. Yet the reconciliation was perfectly simple. A cylinder of historic records discovered by Sir Henry Rawlinson in the ruins of Lower Babylon showed that there were at this time two kings of Babylon, a father and a son. One was occupying a stronghold near the city, the other was defending the city itself; the latter was taken and slain, the former was spared. Thus, by the providential bringing to light of a fact buried for centuries, that which had seemed to be, and which had repeatedly and triumphantly been proclaimed to be, and which had been given up _as_ being, an irreconcilable contradiction, was shown to be perfectly harmonious. Yet if the hypothesis of two kings had been suggested as an explanation before the discovery of the fact, it would have been hissed out of court by the whole skeptical school. The two accounts of the death of Judas have not passed out of the field of popular objection. Matthew (xxvii. 5) says he committed suicide; Luke (Acts i. 18) says he fell headlong and burst asunder. He does not say where he fell from or what were the circumstances of the fall, and it is certainly not impossible, or even improbable, that both accounts are true. The traitor hung himself, possibly, on the verge of a precipice--the supposed spot furnishes all the conditions for this--and afterward (how long is not said) the rope or the limb of the tree gave way, and he fell, striking first on the rocks at the foot of the tree and then plunging over the precipice with the result described by Luke. The case is not without a parallel. A few weeks since the papers noticed the death of a gentleman in one of our Western States. According to one account, he perished in a railroad disaster; according to another, he committed suicide--a contradiction almost exactly like that in the case of Judas. Yet there was no real discrepancy. With his wife and child he was on the fatal train that met its doom at Chatsworth. His child was killed; he and his wife were taken from the ruins terribly injured. The wife soon died; in despair, and with no hope of his own life, he drew his pistol and sent the ball through his own head. He perished in the Chatsworth disaster, and he committed suicide. The application of these principles of law--the admission of any reasonable hypothesis, or of an hypothesis that may seem _improbable_, if it removes the difficulty, the supposition of missing facts known at the time, but now lost--principles of constant application in our courts of justice,--releases at once the pressure from a large part of the objections to the inspired record. The accounts of the healing of the blind men at Jericho and the resurrection of Christ--two of the most difficult of full explanation in the New Testament--require no more than this. It is not hard to present reasonable hypotheses to meet the cases as they stand; and if all the facts were known to us we believe the harmony would be as complete and as simple as that of the histories of the siege and capture of Babylon. We draw the discussion to a close with the words of the eminent American jurist and legal authority, Professor Greenleaf: "All that Christianity [or the Bible] asks of men on this subject is that they would be consistent with themselves, that they would treat its evidence as they treat the evidence of other things, and that they would try and judge its actors and witnesses as they deal with their fellow-men when testifying to human affairs and actions in human tribunals." This, as we have said, is not the highest claim that we can make for the Bible; but if men will go as far as this, and deal with the alleged contradictions of the book honestly by the common rules of evidence, the vast majority of all the difficulties to which these rules apply will disappear. In the mean time, if there are those that do not yield to present knowledge, we can afford to wait. Many objections once supposed to be unanswerable have been answered, and the process is going on. God is very patient, but we may be assured that He who just as the occasion has demanded has summoned up the silent witnesses to his word from the valley of the Nile, from the stormy cliffs of Sinai, from the plains of Mesopotamia and from the sullen shores of the Dead Sea, will not fail in the future to give all the confirmation of his truth that the faith of his Church may need. WASHINGTON, D. C., 1888. THE END. * * * * * Transcriber's note: Text enclosed by underscores is in italics (_italics_). Small capital text has been replaced with all capitals. Variations in spelling, punctuation and hyphenation have been retained except in obvious cases of typographical error. Missing page numbers are page numbers that were not shown in the original text. The cover for the eBook version of this book was created by the transcriber and is placed in the public domain. 
43373	----	HE'S COMING TO-MORROW IDEAL MESSAGES A series of booklets for friend to send to friend, having in mind the conveying of a special word for a specific occasion. The elegant manner of production and the genuine worth of the messages fully justify the title of the series, for the complete books are assuredly "ideal." Old English paper boards, embossed, each, net, 25 cents. 1. =Beyond the Marshes.= By Ralph Connor. A Word of Encouragement. 2. =Across the Continent of the Years.= By Newell Dwight Hillis. 3. =For Eyes that Weep.= By Samuel G. Smith. A Word of Comfort to Those Bereaved of Little Children. 4. =He's Coming To-morrow.= By Harriet Beecher Stowe. A Word on the Coming of Christ. 5. =For Hearts that Hope.= By James G. K. McClure, D. D. A Word about Heaven. 6. =Unto Him.= By Bishop John H. Vincent. A Simple Word about Coming to Jesus Christ. HE'S COMING TO-MORROW By HARRIET BEECHER STOWE [Illustration] FLEMING H. REVELL COMPANY CHICAGO NEW YORK TORONTO MCMI "HE'S COMING TO-MORROW" "_The night is far spent; the day is at hand._" MY soul vibrated for a moment like a harp. Was it true? The night, the long night of the world's groping agony and blind desire? _Is_ it almost over? _Is_ the day at hand? Again: "THEY SHALL SEE THE SON OF MAN COMING IN A CLOUD, WITH POWER AND GREAT GLORY. _And when these things come to pass, look up and rejoice, for your redemption is nigh._" Coming!--The Son of man really coming into _this_ world again with power and great glory? Will this really ever happen? Will this solid, commonplace earth see it? Will these skies brighten and flash? and will upturned faces in this city be watching to see Him coming? So our minister preached in a solemn sermon; and for moments, at times, I felt a thrill of reality in hearing. But as the well-dressed crowd passed down the aisle, my neighbor, Mr. Stockton, whispered to me not to forget the meeting of the bank directors on Monday evening, and Mrs. Goldthwaite poured into my wife's ear a charge not to forget her party on Thursday; and my wife, as she came out, asked me if I had observed the extravagant toilet of Mrs. Rennyman. "_So_ absurd," she said, "when her income, I know, cannot be half what ours is! and I _never_ think of sending to Paris for my things; I should look on it as morally wrong." I spoke of the sermon. "Yes," said my wife, "what a sermon!--so solemn. I wonder that all are not drawn to hear our rector. What could be more powerful than such discourses? My dear, by the by, _don't_ forget to change Mary's opal ring for a diamond one. Dear me! the Christmas presents were all so on my mind that I was thinking of them every now and then in church; and that was _so_ wrong of me!" "My dear," said I, "sometimes it seems to me as if all our life were unreal. We go to church, and the things that we hear are either true or false. If they are true, what things they are! For instance, these Advent sermons. If we are looking for _that_ coming, we ought to feel and live differently from what we do! Do we really believe what we hear in church? or is it a dream?" "I _do_ believe," said my wife earnestly--she is a good woman, my wife--"yes, I _do_ believe, but it is just as you say. Oh, dear! I feel as if I am very worldly--I have so many things to think of!" and she sighed. So do I; for I knew that I, too, was very worldly. After a pause I said: "Suppose Christ should really come this Christmas and it should be authoritatively announced that He would be here to-morrow?" "I think," said my wife, "there would be some embarrassment on the part of our great men, legislators, and chief councilors, in anticipation of a personal interview. Fancy a meeting of the city council to arrange a reception for the Lord Jesus Christ!" "Perhaps," said I, "He would refuse all offers of the rich and great. Perhaps our fashionable churches would plead for His presence in vain. He would not be in palaces." "Oh!" said my wife earnestly, "if I thought our money separated us from Him, I would give it _all_--yes, _all_--might I only see Him." She spoke from the bottom of her heart, and for a moment her face was glorified. "You _will_ see Him some day," said I, "and the money we are willing to give up at a word from Him will not keep Him from us." That evening the thoughts of the waking hours mirrored themselves in a dream. I seemed to be out walking in the streets, and to be conscious of a strange, vague sense of _something_ just declared, of which all were speaking with a suppressed air of mysterious voices. There was a whispering stillness around. Groups of men stood at the corners of the street, and discussed an impending something with suppressed voices. I heard one say to another: "_Really_ coming! What? to-morrow?" And the others said: "Yes, to-morrow; on Christmas Day He will be here." It was night. The stars were glittering with a keen and frosty light; the shops glistened in their Christmas array; but the same sense of hushed expectancy pervaded every thing. There seemed to be nothing doing; and each person looked wistfully upon his neighbor as if to say, Have you heard? Suddenly, as I walked, an angel-form was with me, gliding softly by my side. The face was solemn, serene, and calm. Above the forehead was a pale, tremulous, phosphorous, radiance of light, purer than any on earth--a light of a quality so different from that of the street-lamps, that my celestial attendant seemed to move in a sphere alone. Yet, though I felt awe, I felt a sort of confiding love as I said: "Tell me, is it really true? _Is_ Christ coming?" "HE IS," said the angel. "To-morrow He will be here!" "What joy!" I cried. "Is it joy?" said the angel. "Alas, to many in this city it is only terror! Come with me." In a moment I seemed to be standing with him in a parlor of one of the chief palaces of the city. A stout, florid, bald-headed man was seated at a table covered with papers, which he was sorting over with nervous anxiety, muttering to himself as he did so. On a sofa lay a sad-looking, delicate woman, her emaciated hands clasped over a little book. The room was, in all its appointments, a witness of boundless wealth. Gold and silver, and gems, and foreign furniture, and costly pictures, and articles of _virtu_--everything that money could buy--were heaped together; and yet the man himself seemed to me to have been neither elevated nor refined by the confluence of all these treasures. He seemed nervous and uneasy. He wiped the sweat from his brow, and spoke: "I don't know, wife, how _you_ feel; but _I_ don't like this news. I don't understand it. It puts a stop to everything _I_ know anything about." "Oh, John!" said the woman, turning towards him a face pale and fervent, and clasping her hands, "how can you say so?" And as she spoke, I could see breaking out above her head a tremulous light, like that above the brow of an angel. "Well, Mary, it's the truth. I don't care if I say it. I don't want to meet--well I wish He would put it off! What does He want of me? I'd be willing to make over--well, three millions to found an hospital, if He'd be satisfied and let me go on. Yes, I'd give three millions--to buy off from to-morrow." "Is He not our best friend?" "Best friend!" said the man, with a look half fright, half anger. "Mary, you don't know what you are talking about! You know I always hated those things. There's no use in it; I can't see into them. In fact, I _hate_ them." She cast on him a look full of pity. "_Cannot_ I make you see?" she said. "No, indeed, you can't. Why, look here," he added, pointing to the papers. "Here is what stands for millions! To-night it's mine; and to-morrow it will be all so much waste paper; and then what have I left? Do you think I can rejoice? I'd give half; I'd give--yes, _the whole_, not to have Him come these hundred years." She stretched out her thin hand towards him; but he pushed it back. "Do you see?" said the angel to me solemnly. "Between him and her there is a "GREAT GULF _fixed_." They have lived in one house with that gulf between them for years! She cannot go to him; he cannot go to her. To-morrow she will rise to Christ as a dewdrop to the sun; and he will call to the mountains and rocks to fall on him--not because Christ hates _him_, but because _he_ hates Christ." Again the scene was changed. We stood together in a little low attic, lighted by one small lamp--how poor it was!--a broken chair, a rickety table, a bed in the corner where the little ones were cuddling close to one another for warmth. Poor things! the air was so frosty that their breath congealed upon the bedclothes, as they talked in soft, baby voices. "When mother comes, she will bring us some supper," said they. "But I'm so cold!" said the little outsider. "Get in the middle, then," said the other two, "and we'll warm you. Mother promised she would make a fire when she came in, if that man would pay her." "What a bad man he is!" said the oldest boy; "he never pays mother if he can help it." Just then the door opened, and a pale, thin woman came in, laden with packages. She laid all down, and came to her children's bed, clasping her hands in rapture. "Joy, joy, children! Oh, joy, joy! Christ is coming! He will be here to-morrow." Every little bird in the nest was up, and the little arms around the mother's neck; the children believed at once. They had heard of the good Jesus. He had been their mother's only friend through many a cold and hungry day, and they doubted not He was coming. "Oh, mother! will He take us? He will, won't He?" "Yes, my little ones," she said softly, smiling to herself; "He shall gather the lambs with His arms, and carry them in His bosom." Suddenly again, as by the slide of a magic lantern, another scene was present. We stood in a lonely room, where a woman was sitting with her head bowed forward upon her hands. Alone, forsaken, slandered, she was in bitterness of spirit. Hard, cruel tongues had spoken her name with vile assertions, and a thoughtless world had believed. There had been a babble of accusations, a crowd to rejoice in iniquity, and few to pity. She thought herself alone, and she spoke: "Judge me, O Lord! for I have walked in my integrity. I am as a monster unto many; but thou art my strong refuge." In a moment the angel touched her. "My sister," he said, "be of good cheer. Christ will be here _to-morrow_." She started up, with her hands clasped, her eyes bright, her whole form dilated, as she seemed to look into the heavens, and said with rapture: "Come, Lord, and judge me; for Thou knowest me altogether. Come, Son of man; in Thee have I trusted; let me never be confounded. Oh, for the judgment-seat of Christ!" Again I stood in a brilliant room, full of luxuries. Three or four fair women were standing pensively talking with each other. Their apartment was bestrewn with jewelry, laces, silks, velvets, and every fanciful elegance of fashion; but they looked troubled. "This seems to me really awful," said one, with a suppressed sigh. "What troubles me is, I know so little about it." "Yes," said another, "and it puts a stop to everything! Of what use will all these be to-morrow?" There was a poor seamstress in the corner of the room, who now spoke. "We shall be ever with the Lord," she said. "I'm sure I don't know what that can mean," said the first speaker, with a kind of shudder; "it seems rather fearful." "Well," said the other, "it seems so sudden--when one never dreamed of any such thing--to change all at once from this to that other life." "It is enough to _be with Him_," said the poor woman. "Oh, I have so longed for it!" "_The great gulf_," again said the angel. Then again we stood on the steps of a church. A band of clergymen were together. Episcopalian, Methodist, Baptist, Presbyterian, Old School and New School, all stood hand in hand. "It's no matter now about these old issues," they said. "_He_ is coming; He will settle all. Ordinations and ordinances, sacraments, creeds, are but the scaffolding of the edifice. They are the shadow; the substance is CHRIST!" And hand in hand they turned their faces when the Christmas morning light began faintly glowing; and I heard them saying together, with one heart and voice: "Come, LORD JESUS! come quickly!" * * * * * Transcriber's Note: Page 8, "wordly" changed to "worldly" (am very worldly) 
44119	----	Transcriber's note: Text enclosed by underscores is in italics (_italics_). Small capital text has been replaced with all capitals. * * * * * JESUS, THE MESSIAH; OR, THE OLD TESTAMENT PROPHECIES FULFILLED IN THE NEW TESTAMENT SCRIPTURES. BY A LADY. _The Profits will be devoted to Charitable Purposes._ LONDON: PUBLISHED BY R. B. SEELEY AND W. BURNSIDE; AND SOLD BY L. B. SEELEY AND SONS, FLEET-STREET. MDCCCXXVIII. MILLS, JOWETT, AND MILLS, PRINTERS, BOLT-COURT, FLEET-STREET. DEDICATION. TO THE RIGHT REV. CHARLES RICHARD, LORD BISHOP OF WINCHESTER. MY LORD, I have been induced to solicit the honour of dedicating this little work to your Lordship from the conviction that its contents are not only consonant with the Doctrines and Articles of that Church of which your Lordship is so bright an ornament, but that they are in unison with the truths of Divine Revelation, that perfect standard by which all Theology and Morality must be judged. My object in presenting it to the Public is a wish to render the Scriptures more familiar to the young: and while I feel grateful for the honour of your Lordship's sanction, allow me to express my sincere thanks for the favour you have conferred on one who is, with the greatest respect, My Lord, Your Lordship's very obliged Servant, THE AUTHORESS. _August 18th, 1828._ PREFACE. Custom demands a preface; and though the public is generally uninterested in the reasons which influence an author to appear before its tribunal, yet an introductory notice is usually expected. This little work was the employment of many a retired moment. In turning over the pages of the sacred volume, the writer was struck with the exact fulfilment in the person of the Messiah, as narrated in the New Testament, of the numerous predictions recorded of him in the Old. These were collected for her personal gratification; and as they accumulated, it occurred, that what had been some little source of pleasure to her own mind, might, by the blessing of God, prove useful to some young persons, who from circumstances, are debarred access to, or are not inclined to read, works of a more extensive kind. While the writer has no disposition to despise that criticism which, if impartially administered, is the best safeguard of the press, neither would she timidly shrink from investigation; aware that no partiality of friends can long buoy up an unworthy production. This is not intended as the language of indifference, but arises from a consciousness of the purity of motive, and the desire to do good, which have actuated her; compared with which, all other considerations are momentary and unsatisfying. CONTENTS. CHAPTER I. Page I will put enmity between thee and the Woman, and between thy seed and her seed; it shall bruise thy head, and thou shalt bruise his heel. (Gen. iii. 15.) 1 CHAPTER II. And in thy seed shall all the nations of the earth be blessed; because thou hast obeyed my voice. (Gen. xxii. 18.) 4 CHAPTER III. The sceptre shall not depart from Judah, nor a lawgiver from between his feet, until Shiloh come; and unto him shall the gathering of the people be. (Gen. xlix. 10.) 6 CHAPTER IV. And there shall come forth a rod out of the stem of Jesse, and a branch shall grow out of his roots. And in that day, there shall be a root of Jesse, which shall stand for an ensign of the people; to it shall the Gentiles seek: and his rest shall be glorious. (Is. xi. 1. 10.) 8 CHAPTER V. Thus saith the Lord God,--remove the diadem, and take off the crown, until he come whose right it is; and I will give it him. (Ezekiel xxi. 26, 27.) For the children of Israel shall abide many days without a king, and without a prince, and without a sacrifice, and without an image, and without an ephod, and without teraphim. Afterwards shall the children of Israel return, and seek the Lord their God, and David their king; and shall fear the Lord and his goodness in the latter days. (Hosea iii. 4, 5.) 10 CHAPTER VI. The Lord thy God will raise up unto thee a Prophet from the midst of thee, of thy brethren, like unto me; unto him ye shall hearken. (Deut. xviii. 15-19.) 12 CHAPTER VII. The voice of him that crieth in the wilderness, Prepare ye the way of the Lord, make straight in the desert a highway for our God. (Isaiah xl. 3.) 18 CHAPTER VIII. Therefore, the Lord himself shall give you a sign; Behold a virgin shall conceive and bear a son, and shall call his name Immanuel. (Isaiah vii. 14.) 22 CHAPTER IX. But thou, Bethlehem Ephratah, though thou be little among the thousands of Judah, yet out of thee shall he come forth unto me that is to be ruler in Israel; whose goings forth have been from of old, from everlasting. (Micah v. 2.) 27 CHAPTER X. Thus saith the Lord; A voice was heard in Ramah, lamentation and bitter weeping; Rahel weeping for her children, refused to be comforted for her children, because they were not. (Jeremiah xxxi. 15.) 31 CHAPTER XI. For unto us a child is born, unto us a son is given: and the government shall be upon his shoulder: and his name shall be called Wonderful, Counsellor, the Mighty God, the Everlasting Father, the Prince of Peace. (Isaiah ix. 6, 7.) 33 CHAPTER XII. And in the days of these kings shall the God of heaven set up a kingdom, which shall never be destroyed: and the kingdom shall not be left to other people, but it shall break in pieces and consume all these kingdoms, and it shall stand for ever. (Daniel ii. 44.) 45 CHAPTER XIII. When Israel was a child, then I loved him, and called my son out of Egypt. (Hosea xi. 1.) 49 CHAPTER XIV. Her Nazarites were purer than snow, they were whiter than milk, they were more ruddy in body than rubies, their polishing was of sapphire: their visage is blacker than a coal: they are not known in the streets: their skin cleaveth to their bones; it is withered, it is become like a stick. (Lamentations iv. 7, 8.) 51 CHAPTER XV. The Spirit of the Lord God is upon me; because the Lord hath anointed me to preach good tidings unto the meek: he hath sent me to bind up the broken hearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives, and the opening of the prison to them that are bound; to proclaim the acceptable year of the Lord, and the day of vengeance of our God; to comfort all that mourn. (Isaiah lxi. 1, 2, 3.) 53 CHAPTER XVI. For he shall give his angels charge over thee, to keep thee in all thy ways. They shall bear thee up in their hands, lest thou dash thy foot against a stone. (Psalm xci. 11, 12.) 57 CHAPTER XVII. And I will shake all nations, and the desire of all nations shall come: and I will fill this house with glory, saith the Lord of hosts. The glory of this latter house shall be greater than of the former, saith the Lord of hosts: and in this place will I give peace, saith the Lord of hosts. (Haggai ii. 7. 9.) 58 CHAPTER XVIII. And the Lord, whom ye seek, shall suddenly come to his temple, even the messenger of the covenant, whom ye delight in: behold, he shall come, saith the Lord of hosts. (Mal. iii. 1.) 64 CHAPTER XIX. Nevertheless the dimness shall not be such as was in her vexation, when at first he lightly afflicted the land of Zebulun, and the land of Naphtali, and afterwards did more grievously afflict her by the way of the sea, beyond Jordan, in Galilee of the nations. The people that walked in darkness, have seen a great light: they that dwell in the land of the shadow of death, upon them hath the light shined. (Isaiah ix. 1, 2.) 66 CHAPTER XX. Rejoice greatly, O daughter of Zion; shout, O daughter of Jerusalem: behold, thy King cometh unto thee: he is just, and having salvation; lowly, and riding upon an ass, and upon a colt the foal of an ass. (Zech. ix. 9.) 67 CHAPTER XXI. Is this house, which is called by my name, become a den of robbers in your eyes? Behold, even I have seen it, saith the Lord. (Jeremiah vii. 11.) 69 CHAPTER XXII. Out of the mouth of babes and sucklings hast thou ordained strength because of thine enemies; that thou mightest still the enemy and avenger. (Psalm viii. 2.) 72 CHAPTER XXIII. I have preached righteousness in the great congregation: I have not refrained my lips, O Lord, thou knowest. (Psalm xl. 9.) 74 CHAPTER XXIV. I will open my mouth in a parable: I will utter dark sayings of old. (Psalm lxxviii. 2.) 76 CHAPTER XXV. He shall feed his flock like a shepherd: he shall gather the lambs with his arm, and carry them in his bosom, and shall gently lead those that are with young. (Isaiah xl. 11.) 78 CHAPTER XXVI. And shall make him of quick understanding in the fear of the Lord: and he shall not judge after the sight of his eyes, neither reprove after the hearing of his ears. (Isaiah xi. 3.) 80 CHAPTER XXVII. Then the eyes of the blind shall be opened, and the ears of the deaf shall be unstopped. (Isaiah xxxv. 5.) 82 CHAPTER XXVIII. Then shall the lame man leap as an hart, and the tongue of the dumb sing: for in the wilderness shall waters break out, and streams in the desert. (Is. xxxv. 6.) 88 CHAPTER XXIX. Then said I, Lo, I come: in the volume of the book it is written of me, I delight to do thy will, O my God: yea, thy law is within my heart. (Psalm xl. 7, 8.) 92 CHAPTER XXX. I am become a stranger unto my brethren, and an alien unto my mother's children. (Psalm lxix. 8.) 99 CHAPTER XXXI. They also that seek after my life lay snares for me; and they that seek my hurt speak mischievous things, and imagine deceits all the day long. (Psalm xxxviii.) 102 CHAPTER XXXII. For I have heard the slander of many: fear was on every side: while they took counsel together against me, they devised to take away my life. (Psalm xxxi. 13.) 104 CHAPTER XXXIII. Is it nothing to you, all ye that pass by? behold, and see if there be any sorrow like unto my sorrow, which is done unto me, wherewith the Lord hath afflicted me in the day of his fierce anger. (Lamentation i. 12.) 107 CHAPTER XXXIV. Yea, mine own familiar friend, in whom I trusted, which did eat of my bread, hath lifted up his heel against me. (Psalm xli. 9.) And I said unto them, If ye think good, give me my price; and if not, forbear. So they weighed for my price, thirty pieces of silver. And the Lord said unto me, Cast it unto the potter: a goodly price that I was prized at of them. And I took the thirty pieces of silver, and cast them to the potter in the house of the Lord. (Zechariah xi. 12, 13.) 111 CHAPTER XXXV. When the wicked, even mine enemies and my foes, came upon me to eat up my flesh, they stumbled and fell. (Psalm xxvii. 2.) 115 CHAPTER XXXVI. Why do the heathen rage, and the people imagine a vain thing? The kings of the earth set themselves, and the rulers take counsel together, against the Lord, and against his anointed. (Psalm ii. 1, 2.) 117 CHAPTER XXXVII. False witnesses did rise up; they laid to my charge things that I knew not. (Psalm xxxv. 11.) 121 CHAPTER XXXVIII. But I, as a deaf man, heard not; and I was as a dumb man that openeth not his mouth. Thus I was as a man that heareth not, and in whose mouth are no reproofs. (Psalm xxxviii. 13, 14.) 125 CHAPTER XXXIX. My lovers and my friends stand aloof from my sore; and my kinsmen stand afar off. (Psalm xxxviii. 11.) 127 CHAPTER XL. I gave my back to the smiters, and my cheeks to them that plucked off the hair: I hid not my face from shame and spitting. (Isaiah l. 6.) 129 CHAPTER XLI. He is despised and rejected of men; a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief: and we hid as it were our faces from him; he was despised, and we esteemed him not. (Isaiah liii. 3.) Thus saith the Lord, the Redeemer of Israel, and his Holy One, to him whom man despiseth, to him whom the nation abhorreth, to a servant of rulers, kings shall see and arise, princes also shall worship, because of the Lord that is faithful, and the Holy One of Israel, and he shall choose thee. (Isaiah xlix. 7.) 131 CHAPTER XLII. But I am a worm, and no man; a reproach of men, and despised of the people. (Psalm xxii. 6.) 134 CHAPTER XLIII. He was oppressed, and he was afflicted, yet he opened not his mouth: he is brought as a lamb to the slaughter, and as a sheep before her shearers is dumb, so he openeth not his mouth. (Isaiah liii. 7.) 137 CHAPTER XLIV. He was taken from prison and from judgment: and who shall declare his generation? for he was cut off out of the land of the living: for the transgression of my people was he stricken. (Isaiah liii. 8.) 139 CHAPTER XLV. For dogs have compassed me: the assembly of the wicked have enclosed me: they have pierced my hands and my feet. (Psalm xxii. 16.) 141 CHAPTER XLVI. My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me? Why are thou so far from helping me, and from the words of my roaring? (Psalm xxii. 1.) 145 CHAPTER XLVII. Awake, O sword, against my shepherd, and against the man that is my fellow, saith the Lord of hosts, smite the shepherd, and the sheep shall be scattered; and I will turn mine hand upon the little ones. (Zechariah xiii. 7.) 149 CHAPTER XLVIII. They part my garments among them, and cast lots upon my vesture. (Psalm xxii. 18.) 153 CHAPTER XLIX. They gave me also gall for my meat; and in my thirst they gave me vinegar to drink. (Psalm lxix. 21.) 155 CHAPTER L. With hypocritical mockers in feasts, they gnashed upon me with their teeth. (Psalm xxxv. 16.) All they that see me, laugh me to scorn; they shoot out the lip, they shake the head, saying, He trusted on the Lord that he would deliver Him: let him deliver him, seeing he delighted in him. (Psalm xxii. 7, 8.) 157 CHAPTER LI. Therefore will I divide him a portion with the great, and he shall divide the spoil with the strong; because he hath poured out his soul unto death; and he was numbered with the transgressors; and he bare the sin of many, and made intercession for the transgressors. (Isaiah liii. 12.) 159 CHAPTER LII. He keepeth all his bones, not one of them is broken. (Psalm xxxiv. 20.) 162 CHAPTER LIII. And they shall look upon me whom they have pierced. (Zechariah xii. 10.) 163 CHAPTER LIV. I clothe the heavens with blackness, and I make sackcloth their covering. (Isaiah 1. 3.) 165 CHAPTER LV. And he made his grave with the wicked, and with the rich in his death; because he hath done no violence, neither was any deceit in his mouth. (Isaiah liii. 9.) 168 CHAPTER LVI. The days of his youth hast thou shortened: thou hast covered him with shame. (Psalm lxxxix. 45.) 171 CHAPTER LVII. Surely he hath borne our griefs, and carried our sorrows, yet we did esteem him stricken, smitten of God, and afflicted. But he was wounded for our transgressions, he was bruised for our iniquities; the chastisement of our peace was upon him, and with his stripes we are healed. All we, like sheep, have gone astray; we have turned every one to his own way, and the Lord hath laid on him the iniquity of us all. (Isaiah liii. 4, 5, 6.) 174 CHAPTER LVIII. For thou wilt not leave my soul in Hell, neither wilt thou suffer thine Holy One to see corruption. (Psalm xvi. 9, 10.) 182 CHAPTER LIX. Thou hast ascended on high, thou hast led captivity captive: thou hast received gifts for men; yea, for the rebellious also, that the Lord God might dwell amongst them. (Psalm lxviii. 18.) 190 CHAPTER LX. And it shall come to pass afterward, that I will pour out my spirit upon all flesh; and your sons and your daughters shall prophesy, your old men shall dream dreams, your young men shall see visions: and also upon the servants and upon the handmaids in those days will I pour out my spirit. (Joel ii. 28, 29.) 195 CHAPTER LXI. And I will pour upon the House of David, and upon the inhabitants of Jerusalem, the spirit of grace and of supplications: and they shall look upon me whom they have pierced, and they shall mourn for him as one mourneth for his only son, and shall be in bitterness for him, as one that is in bitterness for his first born. (Zech. xii. 10.) 201 CHAPTER LXII. The Lord hath sworn and will not repent, Thou art a priest for ever, after the order of Melchizedek. (Psalm cx. 4.) 210 CHAPTER LXIII. Seventy weeks are determined upon thy people and upon thy holy city, to finish the transgression, and to make an end of sins, and to make reconciliation for iniquity, and to bring in everlasting righteousness, and to seal up the vision and prophecy, and to anoint the most Holy. Know, therefore, and understand, that from the going forth of the commandment to restore and to build Jerusalem, unto the Messiah, the Prince, shall be seven weeks, and three score and two weeks: the street shall be built again, and the wall, even in troublous times. (Daniel ix. 24, 25.) 214 CHAPTER LXIV. And after three score and two weeks shall Messiah be cut off, but not for himself: and the people of the prince that shall come shall destroy the city and the sanctuary; and the end thereof shall be with a flood, and unto the end of the war desolations are determined. (Daniel ix. 26.) 224 CHAPTER LXV. And he shall confirm the covenant with many for one week: and in the midst of the week he shall cause the sacrifice and the oblation to cease, and for the overspreading of abominations he shall make it desolate, even until the consummation, and that determined shall be poured upon the desolate. (Daniel ix. 27.) 229 CHAPTER LXVI. For I will gather all nations against Jerusalem to battle; and the city shall be taken, and the houses rifled, and the women ravished; and half of the city shall go forth into captivity, and the residue of the people shall not be cut off from the city. (Zechariah xiv. 2.) 235 CHAPTER LXVII. The Lord shall bring a nation against thee from far, from the end of the earth, as swift as the eagle flieth; a nation whose tongue thou shalt not understand; a nation of fierce countenance, which shall not regard the person of the old, nor show favour to the young. (Deut. xxviii. 49, 50.) And when he was come near, he beheld the city, and wept over it, saying, If thou hadst known, even thou, at least in this thy day, the things which belong unto thy peace! but now they are hid from thine eyes. For the days shall come upon thee, that thine enemies shall cast a trench about thee, and compass thee round, and keep thee in on every side, and shall lay thee even with the ground, and thy children within thee; and they shall not leave in thee one stone upon another; because thou knewest not the time of thy visitation. (Luke xix. 41-44.) 240 CHAPTER LXVIII. Therefore shall Zion for your sake be plowed as a field, and Jerusalem shall become heaps, and the mountain of the house as the high places of the forest. (Micah iii. 12.) 243 CHAPTER LXIX. And he shall be for a sanctuary; but for a stone of stumbling and for a rock of offence to both the houses of Israel, for a gin and for a snare to the inhabitants of Jerusalem. (Isaiah viii. 14.) 246 CHAPTER LXX. And he said, It is a light thing that thou shouldest be my servant to raise up the tribes of Jacob, and to restore the preserved of Israel: I will also give thee for a light to the Gentiles, that thou mayest be my salvation unto the end of the earth. (Isaiah xlix. 6.) 256 CHAPTER LXXI. The LORD said unto my Lord, sit thou at my right hand, until I make thine enemies thy footstool. (Psalm cx. 1.) 260 JESUS, THE MESSIAH. CHAPTER I. I will put enmity between thee and the Woman, and between thy seed and her seed; it shall bruise thy head, and thou shalt bruise his heel.--Gen. iii. 15. This is the first intimation we meet with of the promised Messiah, and within this one verse is contained, as in the bud, the embryo flower, that goodly plant of renown,[1] which the Lord hath planted, and not man; he who is the rose of Sharon and the valley's lily.[2] It is an epitome of the whole plan of Redemption, and contains truths of the first importance; we shall do well to consider them in reference to Jesus of Nazareth. The prophecy declares there shall be enmity between the seed of the woman and the serpent. The incarnation and birth of Jesus have, by the Evangelists Matthew and Luke, been so fully stated, that none but a strongly prejudiced mind can deny that he was the son of Mary, then a virgin, and that Joseph was only his supposed father, because he married his mother.[3] The old serpent, or as he is frequently called, Satan, discovered his enmity towards Jesus from his birth; he stirred up the mind of Herod to destroy the holy child, Jesus, and thus originated the massacre of the infants of Bethlehem. Though disappointed, he personally attempted his destruction, and for forty days and nights did he try the force of his arts to tempt Jesus to sin.[4] And, though foiled, he again resumed the attack, and suggested to the minds of the Scribes and Pharisees, priests and people, to persecute the man "who spake as never man spake." It is said he entered into, _i.e._ took full possession of, the mind of Judas,[5] who betrayed Jesus, and also acted as guide to those who took him. Was not Satan the ringleader of those who crucified him, in whom his Judges declared, they could find no fault worthy of death? Let us now behold the opposition displayed by Jesus towards the serpent and his seed. A great part of his life appears to have been spent in casting out and dispossessing devils from the minds and bodies of men;[6] and in rebuking and threatening them, he proved that he came to destroy the power and works of darkness. His was an avowed and constant war, and the devils knew him as their greatest foe, and the destroyer of their power.[7] Although the heel, _i.e._ the human nature of Jesus, was bruised in the contest, yet, by his death, (in which Satan for the moment appeared triumphant,) he gave a mortal blow to his power and authority, by delivering the captives of the mighty, and the prey of the terrible one.[8] The cross, designed to display their scorn and abhorrence, is become the praise and glory of all the children of God, to whom, as unto their Lord and Master, the old serpent and his seed continue to manifest the same spirit of enmity and persecution.[9] Did devils confess Jesus to be the Son of the most high God, and shall not we acknowledge him to be the seed promised at the fall of man, and that he is, at the same time, Mary's son, and the Son of God?[10] The prince of the fallen spirits, the old serpent, or Satan, discovered his enmity to the human race in the garden of Eden; the woman was the first whom he deceived by his arts; but it was Jesus, her seed, who, in the after ages of the world, in the garden of Gethsemane, bruised the serpent's head, and at his resurrection, led captivity captive, and will eventually consign to utter darkness and perdition, this foe to God and man.[11] [1] Isaiah liii. 2. Ezek. xxxiv. 29. [2] Cant. ii. 1. [3] Matthew i. 18-25. Luke i. 27. 30-35., ii. 5, 6, 7. [4] Matthew iv. 1-11. Mark i. 12, 13. Luke iv. 2-13. [5] Luke xxii. 3. John vi. 70., xiii. 2-27. [6] Matthew iv. 24., viii. 16, 18-23., ix. 32-34., x. 1., xii. 24-28., xv. 22-28., xvi. 23., xvii. 14-19. Mark i. 23-27. 33, 34, 39., iii. 22-27., v. 2-19., vii. 25-30., viii. 33. Luke iv. 36-41., vi. 18., vii. 21., viii. 27-36., ix. 1, 38-42, 49. John xii. 31., Acts x. 38., 1 John, iii. 8. [7] Mark iii. 11, 12., v. 6, 7. Luke iv. 33, 34, 41., viii. 28. [8] Luke xxii. 53. John xiv. 30. [9] 1 Peter v. 8. [10] Gal. iv. 4. Col. i. 15., ii. 9. [11] Matthew xxv. 41. Rom. xvi. 20. Col. ii. 15. Heb. ii. 14. 2 Peter ii. 4. Jude vi. 9. Rev. xii. 7-17., xx. 1, 2, 3. 10. CHAPTER II. And in thy seed shall all the nations of the earth be blessed; because thou hast obeyed my voice.--Gen. xxii. 18. We now meet with a prophecy of the family from which Christ, after the flesh, should spring. The lineal descent from Abraham to Joseph, the husband of Mary, is given us by Matthew,[12] through forty-two generations; and Luke[13] gives the genealogy of Jesus back to Adam, through Abraham, in the whole seventy-four generations, showing at once that the seed promised to Adam and Abraham, is the same, even Jesus in whom all the nations of the earth shall be blessed.[14] The reader will discover a difference between the names in the Old and New Testaments, which arises from the former being translated from the Hebrew, and the latter from the Greek language. It will also be observed, that the genealogies given by Matthew and Luke differ, but Matthew gives the pedigree of Joseph, and Luke that of Mary. Although the supposed father of Jesus is said by Luke to be the son of Heli, yet Matthew informs us Jacob begat Joseph,[15] who is called the son of Heli, only on account of the contract for marriage subsisting between Joseph and his daughter. This was a custom prevalent with the Jews, and these agreements were often made by the parents, before the parties most interested had ever seen each other, as was the case with Isaac and Rebecca. Although Abraham's posterity have been, as the sand on the sea shore, innumerable, and as a nation have enjoyed exceeding great and precious privileges, yet all the nations of the earth can never be said to be blessed in them, unless we take the prophecy in its true light, as pointing to Jesus "the promised blessing," whose day of "tabernacling" on earth, Abraham by faith saw afar off, "rejoiced, and was glad." [12] Mat. i. 1-17. [13] Luke iii. 23-38. [14] Genesis xii. 3., xviii. 18. Psalm lxxii. 17. [15] Matthew i. 16. Luke iii. 23. CHAPTER III. The sceptre shall not depart from Judah, nor a lawgiver from between his feet, until Shiloh come; and unto him shall the gathering of the people be.--Gen. xlix. 10. The Holy Ghost, by the mouth of the dying patriarch, Jacob, has pointed to the epoch when he, of whom Moses and the prophets did write, should appear. It is worthy our particular attention, that, at the period of time when Jesus came, Judea was still governed by a Jewish king. It is true the power of the royal Asmonean or Maccabean race was destroyed, and Herod the Great had ascended the throne of Israel, yet the sceptre was not departed from Judah. Herod was an Idumean, which nation had, for nearly two centuries, been proselytes to Judaism, and so incorporated and mingled with the Jews, as to be regarded as one people. Judea bowed to the Roman power, yet Herod exercised the regal authority, and was universally acknowledged as the sovereign of Jewry, when Jesus, the prince of peace, the king of Israel, appeared a babe at Bethlehem but no sooner was the Shiloh come, than the sceptre departed from Judah. On the death of Herod, which happened soon after the birth of Christ, Augustus Cæsar divided the kingdom of Judea between Archelaus, Herod, and Philip, the three sons of Herod. Archelaus succeeded to the half of his father's dominions by the title of tetrarch, but not of king; his tyranny and oppression were so great, that, in less than ten years, he was deposed and banished to France by the emperor, who then reduced Judea to a Roman province, and ruled it afterwards by procurators or governors, who were sent thither and recalled at pleasure; the taxes were now paid more directly to the Roman empire, and gathered by the publicans; the power of life and death was taken out of the hands of the Jews, and placed in those of the Roman governors. The Lord, when he is pleased, can make the wrath of man to praise him, and his enemies to minister to his glory. This sentiment we have most strikingly illustrated in the conduct of Caiaphas, who, in the moment he was plotting the destruction of Jesus, and thirsting for his blood, delivered a very remarkable prophecy,[16] the exact counterpart of the one we are now considering, in which he declared Jesus to be the promised Shiloh, who should gather together in one, all the children of God which are scattered abroad, not the nations of the Jews only, but the Gentiles also. Yes, Jesus will seek out and bring his people from the mountains whence they are scattered; in the cloudy and dark day he will bring his sons from afar, and his daughters from the ends of the earth, and there shall be one fold under one shepherd, even the glorious Shiloh. [16] John xi. 49-52. CHAPTER IV. And there shall come forth a rod out of the stem of Jesse, and a branch shall grow out of his roots. And in that day, there shall be a root of Jesse, which shall stand for an ensign of the people; to it shall the Gentiles seek: and his rest shall be glorious.--Isaiah xi. 1. 10. The Jews, from these prophecies, expected the Messiah would spring from the family of David, the son of Jesse; and this led them to preserve, with unusual attention, the genealogy of his descendants. We have abundant testimony that Jesus is of "the house and lineage of David."[17] By comparing scripture with scripture,[18] we may venture to affirm, Jesus is the "glorious branch" Jehovah hath made strong for himself. With regard to his human and divine nature, he is both "David's son and David's Lord." He is the "root and offspring of David," and the "bright and morning star." The Gentiles shall come to "his light," and kings to the "brightness of his rising." He is not only a "rod out of the stem of Jesse," but he is the "tree of life" whose "leaves are for the healing of the nations," whose top shall "reach unto heaven," and his branches "cover the earth." He is Jehovah's ensign of mercy displayed to a rebel world, and both the Jewish and Gentile nations are invited to enlist under the banners of the cross. Those who seek an inheritance in the kingdom of the true David, if it be agreeable to the charter of Immanuel's land, shall find his rest to be glorious. [17] Since the destruction of Jerusalem, the genealogy of the Jews is lost; the tribe or family of David cannot be distinguished from that of Benjamin. [18] Psalm cxxxii. 11. Isaiah ix. 6, 7., lv. 3, 4, 5. Jerem. xxiii. 5, 6., xxxiii. 15. Zech. iii. 8., vi. 12, 13. CHAPTER V. Thus saith the Lord, remove the diadem and take off the crown, until he come whose right it is; and I will give it him.--Ezekiel xxi. 26, 27. For the children of Israel shall abide many days without a king, and without a prince, and without a sacrifice, and without an image, and without an ephod, and without teraphim. Afterwards shall the children of Israel return, and seek the Lord their God, and David their king; and shall fear the Lord and his goodness in the latter days.--Hosea iii. 4, 5. The Jews themselves must confess this prophecy to be in part fulfilled. They are wanderers from their beloved Canaan, strangers in a strange land, scattered over all parts of the globe, and destitute of all the local privileges which constitute a nation, although they still retain a distinction of character; but it only tends to make them a reproach, and their name a by-word amongst all classes. They dwell alone, and are not now reckoned amongst the nations of the earth. The insignia of royal dignity are useless to them, having no king or prince on whom to bestow the crown or diadem. They are deprived of their temple and its services, and of all the glorious distinctions which marked it from those dedicated to false or unknown Gods. The latter clause of this prophecy shall as assuredly be fulfilled, for heaven and earth shall pass away, sooner than one of the promises of God fail to be accomplished. Yes, the children of Israel shall return, and seek the Lord their God, and him of whom David was only a type, even King Jesus,[19] who is of David's royal line, "and the government shall be upon his shoulders," for he is the "wonderful counsellor, the mighty God, the everlasting father, the prince of peace." Hasten, Lord! we would say, the time "when the deliverer shall arise out of Zion, and turn away ungodliness from Jacob." Assume the sceptre of thy power, Jesus, thou king of Zion, thou "Son of the Highest! for the Lord God has given unto thee the throne of thy father, David; thou shalt reign over the house of Jacob for ever." "Of the increase of thy government and peace there shall be no end; upon the throne of David, and upon his kingdom, to order it, and to establish it with judgment and with justice, from henceforth even for ever. The zeal of the Lord of hosts will perform this." [19] Ezek. xxi. 26, 27. CHAPTER VI. The Lord thy God will raise up unto thee a Prophet from the midst of thee, of thy brethren, like unto me; unto him ye shall hearken.--Deut. xviii. 15-19. This is one of the many precious promises given by God to Israel. Moses is a character justly deserving our regard and veneration. The Jewish nation held him in high estimation, and almost idolized his memory. Perhaps our time may not be misemployed in searching for proofs of the fulfilment of this prophecy, and in examining the character of one (even Jesus) who declares himself to be not only a prophet like unto Moses, but in every respect his superior; which, if proved, will clearly warrant their giving unto Jesus far greater honour than was even due to Moses. In drawing a comparison between these illustrious personages, we observe; they both sprang from the family of Jacob or Israel; Moses, when a child, was, for a time, concealed by his parents from the persecuting Pharoah; the child Jesus also, was, by command of God the Father, taken into Egypt, to avoid the tyranny of Herod: thus both escaped the destruction executed on all the other male children. Moses was raised up from the midst of the people, from amongst his brethren the children of Israel; Jesus having taken on him our nature, is not ashamed to call us brethren. Moses was a prophet, called and taught of God; Jesus is the sent, the sealed, the anointed of God, at whose call he came forth. Moses saw God face to face; Jesus lay in the bosom of the Father. Moses wrought miracles by the command and aid of God; Jesus wrought many miracles in the days of his flesh, but all in his own name and by his own power. Moses was an honoured instrument in bringing Israel from the bondage of Egypt; but Jesus delivers his people Israel from worse than Egyptian taskmasters, even the bondage of sin and Satan. Moses fasted forty days before he gave the law to Israel. Jesus fasted forty days before he entered on his public ministry. When Moses wrought miracles in Egypt, the magicians were obliged to confess the divine power by which he acted. Jesus expelled the evil spirits, and they acknowledged his almighty power. Moses commanded the sea to retire, and it obeyed his voice. Jesus said to the tempestuous winds and sea, "Peace, be still!" and instantly there was a great calm. Moses cured one leper.[20] Jesus cured many. Moses chose and appointed seventy elders over the people, on whom God bestowed the spirit of prophecy. Jesus chose seventy apostles, whom he endowed with miraculous powers, and sent forth to teach in the villages. Moses chose twelve men, whom he sent to spy out the land the Israelites were about to conquer. Jesus chose twelve apostles, and commanded them to go forth and preach the gospel to all the world, and subject it to his allegiance, by a more glorious power than that of arms. Moses was in danger of being stoned by the rebellious and ungrateful people, whom he had constantly laboured to benefit. The Jews also took up stones to stone Jesus in return for his numerous favours. The relations of Moses were greatly offended with him for marrying an Ethiopian woman.[21] Jesus has espoused the Gentile church, to the no small displeasure of the Jews. When Moses was the prophet of Israel, they were fed with manna from heaven. Jesus miraculously fed five thousand and seven thousand persons; he could say "I am the living bread which came down from heaven; if any man eat of this bread, he shall live for ever; and the bread that I will give is my flesh, which I will give for the life of the world." When Moses, by God's command, stretched forth his hand, darkness covered the land of Egypt, which was shortly followed by the awful destruction of its first-born; when Jesus was crucified, darkness covered the land, which, not many years after, was the scene of the most dire calamities. Was Moses a prophet? and did he not speak of the calamities that would befall the Jews? as such, see Jesus teaching the people, and foretelling the time and circumstances of his own decease, and also the siege and destruction of Jerusalem. Was Moses as king in Jeshurun? Jesus is not only king in Zion, but King of kings, and Lord of lords; by him kings rule, and princes decree justice. Moses is described as an almost perfect character; Jesus as wholly free from the least spot or stain of sin. Moses was remarkable for meekness; Jesus, when led as a lamb to the slaughter, opened not his mouth; when reviled, he reviled not again; when persecuted, he blessed. Moses, by command of God, gave laws and statutes, and instituted ordinances in Israel; Jesus instituted the ordinance of the Lord's Supper, and gave laws and commandments to his people. The law given by Moses tends only to condemnation, but Jesus "has brought light and immortality to light by his gospel." The law of Moses was designed "as a schoolmaster to bring us to Christ;" the doctrine of Jesus is, "I am the way, the truth, and the life." Moses acted as a mediator between God and Israel, at the giving of the covenant on Sinai; Jesus is the great day's-man, and the almighty mediator of the new covenant. Did Moses plead for the rebellious Israelites? we also hear Jesus interceding for transgressors, saying, "Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do." Moses read the law in the ears of all Israel; Jesus writes his laws upon the hearts of his people, and his truths in their inward parts. When Moses descended from Mount Sinai, after holding converse with God, his face shone exceeding bright; we are told when Jesus was transfigured on Mount Tabor, his face shone as the sun, and his raiment was white as the light. Did Moses choose rather "to suffer affliction with the people of God, than enjoy the pleasures of sin for a season?" Jesus preferred suffering misery and woe for a time, rather than his people should endure the everlasting punishment which their sins deserved. Did Moses esteem the reproach of Christ greater riches than the treasures of Egypt? Jesus considers the odium affixed to his cross, as a more honourable distinction than the possession of thousands of gold and silver. Moses, as a servant, was faithful in all his house; Jesus could say "Father, I have finished the work thou hast given me to do," "I have glorified thee on the earth," and "those thou gavest me, I have kept, and none of them is lost." (See John xvii. 12) Moses was permitted, from the heights of Pisgah, to view the goodly land of promise; which was but a type of the heavenly rest Jesus has prepared for those who love him. Moses, as a prophet, was great in Israel; Jesus is the Lord God of the prophets, and unto him shall the people hearken; he will give them the hearing ear and the understanding heart, and make them willing in the day of his power. "Every soul that will not hearken unto this prophet, shall be cut off," for be it known to all people, "that there is none other name under heaven given amongst men, whereby we can be saved," but that of Jesus, who is of a truth "the prophet that was for to come." It was said, by way of reproach, thou art this man's disciple, but we are Moses' disciples. Let us not consider it a disgrace to own our attachment to him, who is in every point of view far superior to Moses, who was but his servant, and the creature of his power. Where shall we find a person who so closely resembles Moses, as Christ? Surely he was the prophet foretold! Yet the Jews rejected him, and by that rejection prove that Jesus was he of whom Moses wrote--for the Lord has executed the punishment he threatened should befall them, if they refused to hearken unto this prophet; thus the Jews are living monuments of the truth as it is in Jesus. Oh, may we take warning from their calamities, and receive the sent, the sealed, the anointed of the Father, as our prophet, priest, and king; even Jesus the Messiah, the Christ of God! [20] Numbers xii. 15. [21] Numbers xii. 1. CHAPTER VII. The voice of him that crieth in the wilderness, Prepare ye the way of the Lord, make straight in the desert a highway for our God.--Isaiah xl. 3. The Prophets Isaiah and Malachi[22] were commissioned to inform the church, that when the period should arrive for the coming of the Messiah, a messenger would be sent to announce his near approach. This promise was most strictly fulfilled: Jesus, the Son of the Most High God, did not visit this our world, without first directing an herald to proclaim his coming; even John, who was sent to prepare the way before him.[23] This harbinger deserves our attention; he was no ordinary character. An angel, even Gabriel, posted from heaven to speak of his birth, and declare he should be filled with the Holy Ghost from the first dawn of life. If such distinguishing honour was paid to the messenger, how great that due to the master! John demands our respect, on account of the sanctity of his life, the simplicity of his manners, and the active zeal and ardent love he manifested in the cause, and towards the person, of his Lord, and for the integrity and faithfulness exhibited in every part of his conduct towards man. He feared not to reprove sin in whatever class of persons he beheld it, from the common soldier even to the monarch on the throne. To a character so exemplary as John's, the highest respect and veneration are due; and the testimony of such a man deserves not to be lightly regarded. John's birth was six months prior to his Lord's,[24] and being the first who used water-baptism as a divine ordinance, he was surnamed the Baptist. He abode "in the deserts" of Judea "until the day of his showing unto Israel," and had never seen his Lord (who resided at Nazareth, in Galilee), until he came to Jordan for baptism. The testimony he then gave to the person of Jesus merits observation. He publicly acknowledged him to be the person whose way he was sent to prepare, and spoke of him as one whose shoe's latchet he was not worthy to unloose. We see John, when surrounded by his own disciples, point to Jesus, and say "Behold the Lamb of God which taketh away the sin of the world," and "this is he of whom I said, after me cometh a man which is preferred before me; for he was before me." John gave the most decided testimony to the Godhead of Jesus, for he said he would "baptise with the Holy Ghost," which is the prerogative only of God. What man can, by any means, redeem his brother, or give to God a ransom for his soul? but John spake of his Lord as "the Lamb of God, which taketh away the sin of the world." Yes, he is the "Lamb slain from the foundation of the world." Under the Mosaic dispensation, the lamb slain, as a morning and evening sacrifice, and on the great day of atonement, was only a type of this Lamb of God's own providing, who offered himself up as a sacrifice for the sins of many. When the disciples of John appeared displeased at the growing popularity of Jesus, their master instantly checked them by saying "he must increase, but I must decrease; he that cometh from heaven is above all." After John was cast into prison, we find him sending two of his disciples to Jesus, to inquire if he were the Christ or not.[25] Having heard the testimony John had before given to the person of Jesus, we cannot suppose he had any doubts in his own mind as to his being the Messiah, but rather that he was fully convinced of the fact himself; and wishing his disciples to be firmly established in the same faith, he, as the most effectual method, sent them to Jesus for satisfactory proofs of a truth which he (John) had been continually teaching through the whole course of his ministry. John was a faithful witness in his master's cause, and to him we are much indebted. But let us not bestow on him the honours due to Jesus, who is deservedly preferred before him; for, as John justly observed, he was before him. This is strictly true, for although Jesus did not take on him our nature until six months after the birth of John, yet, being God as well as man, his existence is from everlasting to everlasting. [22] Mal. iii. 1., iv. 5. [23] Matt. iii. 3., xi. 2-15. Mark i. 2-8. Luke i. 5-26. [24] Luke i. 39-44. [25] Luke vii. 18-28. Josephus, in his history of the Jews, speaks of John the Baptist in the highest terms of respect and veneration: he says he had acquired such credit and authority amongst the people by the holiness of his life, and his disciples were so numerous, that Herod, dreading a revolt, confined John in the castle of Macharas, and afterwards beheaded him, for no other crime than his honest faithfulness.[26] Herod's army was soon after totally routed by the troops of Aretas, and the Jews considered it as a mark of Divine vengeance for his cruel treatment of the Holy Baptist. [26] Matt. xiv. 3-10. CHAPTER VIII. Therefore, the Lord himself shall give you a sign, behold a virgin shall conceive and bear a son, and shall call his name Immanuel.--Isaiah vii. 14. The portion of scripture now before us is highly interesting, and demands serious attention. About seven hundred and eight years before the birth of Jesus, the prophet Isaiah was commissioned to tell the church, a virgin should conceive and bear a son, and should call his name Immanuel. For proofs of the fulfilment of this prophecy, we would refer to Matthew and Luke,[27] and request their testimony may be read with the serious attention the subject demands. The unblushing infidel may treat it with scorn and ridicule; but let not one bearing the name of Christ, venture to speak with lightness, on this so highly momentous an article of the christian faith. We cannot suppose the Lord, after giving this promise, would be unmindful of its accomplishment: if the birth of Christ had been the result of natural causes, there would have been nothing to excite surprise, nor would it have been a sign, as the Lord himself declared it should be. If he had been born after the manner of the children of men, no doubt he must have partaken of their evil nature. Or if his body had been formed of the dust, as was Adam's, how could the promise given at the fall of man, have been fulfilled? And what relationship would there then have existed between Christ and his church? But now he is "bone of our bone, and flesh of our flesh." For in the fulness of time, "God sent forth his son, made of a woman, made under the law, that he might redeem them which are under the law." "Lo! in the volume of the book, it is written of him," "sacrifice and offerings for sin, thou wouldest not; but a body hast thou prepared for him." A body subject to all the infirmities of our nature, yet wholly free from the sinful principles, and evil propensities of the human race. His name shall be called "Immanuel, which, being interpreted, is, God with us," God in our nature.[28] Yes, the uncreated word was "made flesh and dwelt amongst us and we beheld his glory, the glory as of the only begotten of the Father, full of grace and truth." "In him dwelt all the fullness of the Godhead bodily." The Socinian may smile with contempt when the Deity of Jesus is attested, but is it not written? "Behold ye despisers, and wonder and perish!" Shall not "he that sitteth upon the circle of the heavens, laugh?--the Lord shall have them in utter derision." We would candidly confess, there are mysteries in this doctrine above the powers of a finite mind fully to comprehend. But are we, for that cause, to refuse our belief of its truth? We should indeed be reduced to a most distressing dilemma, if we were to disbelieve every thing we cannot fully comprehend. Who can discover or fully explain the nature, order, and beauteous economy, displayed in the animate and inanimate creation? They are so many problems unsolvable by man, although by the dint of study, many of the causes and effects by which we are encircled, have been traced up to their mighty Author, and eagle-eyed genius has let in a world of wonders to our view; yet much, very much, both in the heavens, the earth, and mighty deep, remains enwrapt in clouds, or thick darkness. Even in the formation of a blade of grass, there are operations which man cannot define. We enjoy the genial rays of heaven's bright luminary, but who can prove to demonstration, the sources from whence he has derived such a constant supply of matter, as to furnish our system of worlds, with light and heat for nearly six thousand years? In short who can discover or fully explain the mysterious link which unites mind to matter? But surely we do not allow ourselves to disbelieve the reality of their existence, because we cannot enter into the minutiæ of their nature. If there was nothing revealed, in the New Testament, of the nature and person of Christ, but what we could fully comprehend, we should then have some cause to refuse our assent to its truth, and might confess it to be a cunningly devised fable. But while great is the mystery of godliness, remember it is God manifest in the flesh; not God putting off his Deity to take the human nature, but it is the second person in the revealed order of the triune Jehovah, who takes our nature into union with his divine person, and veils his Godhead beneath the human flesh. Thus is God and man united in the person of our glorious Immanuel; and as if no proof should be wanting of his Deity, the angel Gabriel when directing Mary to call his name Jesus, added: "for he shall save his people from their sins." Thus did he give the most decided testimony to his Godhead, for who but God, strictly speaking, can claim a people as his own? and none but God can save them from their sins. In regard to the Virgin Mary, we would cheerfully join in Gabriel's salutation, "Hail! thou highly favoured of the Lord;" but, at the same time, we would beg to observe a nice distinction with reference to Mary, who was only one of Eve's daughters, and, though highly honoured of the Lord in this particular instance, an honour which never was or can be conferred on another; yet Mary's salvation depended on the same foundation as the rest of God's children, and it is plain Mary viewed it in the same light, for we hear her saying, "My soul doth magnify the Lord and my spirit doth rejoice in God my Saviour." Mary was only a creature, and consequently it is sinful to offer her adoration, for it is written "thou shalt worship the Lord thy God, and none other." As to her having any particular interest at the court of heaven, Jesus has determined that point, by saying, "Woman what have I to do with thee, mine hour is not yet come." It is worthy observation, that whenever Jesus spoke of Mary, he invariably called her "woman," as if at once to silence all who he knew would in after ages bestow improper honours on the virgin. When one said "Behold thy mother and thy brethren stand without desiring to speak with thee," Jesus pointed to his disciples, and said, "behold my mother and my brethren;" and added, "whosoever shall do the will of my father who is in heaven, the same is my mother, and sister, and brother." Whether Mary had, or had not children, after the birth of Jesus, is to us a matter of no importance; all it concerns us is to know she had none before. [27] Matt. i. 18-25. Luke i. 26-38. [28] Col. ii. 9. 1 Cor. xv. 47. Rom. ix. 5. 1 Tim. iii. 16. John i. 1., i. 14. CHAPTER IX. But thou, Bethlehem Ephratah, though thou be little among the thousands of Judah, yet out of thee shall He come forth unto me, that is to be ruler in Israel; whose goings forth have been from of old, from everlasting.--Micah v. 2. We find Boaz (the husband of Ruth) was of Bethlehem, a small city belonging to the tribe of Judah, situate about five or six miles from Jerusalem, and his posterity continued to possess it for some time, for it was the birth-place of David, the son of Jesse the Bethlehemite, great grandson to Boaz. This was the city from which, according to prophecy, the Messiah should come. If we examine the records left by the Evangelists, we shall find a decree was issued by Augustus Cæsar, to tax all the people of the Jews, and every family was ordered to repair to the cities belonging to their respective tribes. This it was, which brought the Virgin Mary from Nazareth to Bethlehem, she being of the house and lineage of David. It is probable the whole family of David were cited to assemble for the purpose of being taxed; it might be with a design to humble and mortify them, for they had a rightful claim to the throne of Judah. If this had not been the case, it is more than probable Mary, from her situation, would have been permitted to remain at Nazareth. Whatever were the motives of the civil authorities, we have cause to bless our God for thus overruling events, which distinctively considered were oppressive, but now tend to establish the truth as it is in Jesus. What else, humanly speaking, could have brought Mary, a female in the humblest walk of life, to Bethlehem?--If it were not for this circumstance, we should have wanted this proof of Jesus being the Messiah; for we are told, he should be born at Bethlehem, a city little among the thousands of Judah.[29] Although a manger was the best accommodation offered for the royal babe, yet his birth was not altogether unnoticed, or passed by, as an event of little importance; for lo! amidst the stillness of the night, an angelic messenger is sent to announce to Jewish shepherds, the arrival of the chief Shepherd. No sooner are the glad tidings of great joy communicated, but a multitude of the heavenly hosts, who had followed with joyful haste, make the air re-echo with sounds, sweet as the music of heaven. While charmed with the delightful melody, and breathless to catch the strain, we distinctly hear, "Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good-will towards men." The next object which arrests our attention, is a company of Eastern philosophers, who are come to pay their adorations to the sovereign stranger, and to welcome his arrival. But who could have directed them to this obscure retreat, to find the infant King? They were led thither, by a star of peculiar motion, appointed to direct these eastern sages (probably Chaldeans), to Israel's King. But how ill did his appearance accord with the dignity of his character; yet notwithstanding the poverty with which he was surrounded, they worshipped him. For he who was a babe at Bethlehem, by the mysterious union of the human nature with the divine person, is the same "whose goings forth have been from of old, from everlasting." We are told that when he went forth in the acts of creation, "the morning stars sang together, and all the sons of God shouted for joy." What wonder then if they tuned their golden harps afresh, when he went forth to accomplish redemption's work, which mystery the angels are represented as desiring to look into. He is also described as a Ruler not only in the armies of heaven, and amongst the inhabitants of earth; but, in a more near and interesting sense, does he reign and rule in the hearts of his redeemed. The symbol of his authority is not an iron rod; no, he rules them with the sceptre of his love. We would say "Gird on thy sword upon thy thigh, O thou most mighty; and go forth, conquering and to conquer; until every land shall own thy power, and all the nations of the earth shall call the Redeemer blessed." May we imitate these eastern sages, and not feel ashamed to confess our attachment to him, who once appeared as an infant at Bethlehem; for it became him, in taking our nature, to assume it from its earliest state, and in all things to be made like unto his brethren, sin only excepted. [29] It will be observed the chief priests and scribes, in quoting this passage (see Matt. ii. 6.) have not given it correctly, but have made it bend as much as possible to their ideas of a temporal prince. CHAPTER X. Thus saith the Lord, a voice was heard in Ramah, lamentation and bitter weeping; Rahel weeping for her children refused to be comforted for her children, because they were not.--Jeremiah xxxi. 15. It will not be difficult to discover the mourning prophet referred to the murder of the infants of Bethlehem, when it is remembered that Rachel the beloved wife of Jacob, was the mother of Benjamin, which tribe, with that of Judah and the family of Levi, after the revolt of the ten tribes, formed the kingdom of Judah. We are told the wise men came to Jerusalem, to inquire from the Jews themselves, at what place their long promised King should be born; and when told Bethlehem was the honoured spot, they departed with a charge from Herod, then king of Judah, to return and bring him tidings, that he also might go and worship the infant King. But his hypocrisy was soon discovered. Under pretence, that the wise men had offered him an insult in not returning to Jerusalem, he issued an order, to destroy all the children in Bethlehem, from two years old and under. An order in every point of view, most cruel, unjust, and cowardly, and which the most hardened wretch must have shuddered to execute. The mind cannot conceive an act of greater barbarity, than the murder of so many innocent babes, in order to be sure of one, even the holy child Jesus. It does not appear that any of their parents had offended the cowardly tyrant, whose heart was harder than the nether mill-stone. What wonder if the voice of lamentation and wo was heard, when the murderer's sword was (to use the prophet's language) made drunk with blood, with the blood of helpless infants, who were torn from the arms of those who would gladly have shed their own blood in the rescue of their babes; but the armed ruffian band, like their master, were insensible to pity, and deaf to the cry of mercy. Well might Rachel, a mother in Israel, have wept, had she witnessed this cruel order executed on the infants of her race! How enviable the lot of those youthful martyrs for the cause of Christ, compared to his, who, though seated on a throne, trembled at the name of Jesus, even when an infant at Bethlehem. CHAPTER XI. For unto us a child is born, unto us a son is given: and the government shall be upon his shoulder: and his name shall be called Wonderful, Counsellor, The Mighty God, The Everlasting Father, The Prince of Peace.--Isaiah ix. 6, 7. These words, like numerous other passages in the word of God, are far too sublime to be attached to a mere creature; at the same time, they certainly express ideas which cannot be attributed to Deity. "Unto us a child is born, unto us a son is given," is language improper to be applied to Godhead, while the Mighty God, the Everlasting Father, are titles too Godlike to belong to humanity. In what light are we to view them, if not as descriptive of the person of the God-man, Christ Jesus? To whom but the Messiah, are we to apply this, and the many expressions of a similar kind, which we find so profusely scattered through the sacred volume? It is to the wonderful person of the Messiah, God united to the man Christ Jesus, that we direct our thoughts, as the glorious object presented to the faith of the patriarchs and ancient Israel of God. To him give all the prophets witness. All the types prefigure him. All the shadows are designed to represent him, the substance. He is exhibited to our view in a variety of characters, relations, and offices; and is not God and man, united in one complex person, clearly revealed in this prophecy? Let us apply it to Jesus:--Unto us a child is born, unto us a son is given. Behold him! a babe at Bethlehem, subject to all the wants, weakness and helplessness connected with a state of infancy and childhood; such was the holy child Jesus. Unto us a son is given, who is acknowledged to be of David's royal line; yet this son of humanity, is also declared to be the only begotten Son of God, a Son who is the brightness of his Father's glory, and the express image of his person. But this Son is not given as a Saviour to fallen angels, they are passed by, although possessed of faculties and powers, far superior to the sons of earth; "God so loved the world as to give his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him, should not perish, but have everlasting life." Yes, Christ is the gift of God, and the richest, God could bestow; he parted with the choicest jewel in the treasury of heaven; and God has not such another son to give, even if the redemption of ten thousand worlds required it. How amazing the love that could prompt even God, to deliver up such a son; a son, in whom he declared himself always well pleased; a son whom all the angels of God are commanded to worship; yet he was given up to shame, reproach, and sufferings; yea, his Father became the chief executioner. "It pleased the Father to bruise him, and put him to shame." Well might the prophet exclaim, "Wonder O heaven and be astonished O earth!" Jesus declared that, as the son of man, all power in heaven and earth was given to him; and surely the government ought to be on his shoulders, for who so fit to manage all, as he who is the Wonderful Counsellor; he who, from all eternity, knew the plans and counsels of Jehovah, and with whom he concerted and contrived the creation and redemption of man; and was it not between the Father and this Son, that the council of peace was settled and established, and is it not "a covenant well ordered in all things[30] and sure," and does not that part of it published to us in the written word, proclaim it the work of a Wonderful Counsellor? He indeed is wonderful, both in his person and work: the wonders of his love are here past finding out; the wonders of his grace are now unsearchable, and it is reserved for an eternity to discover all the mysteries in the Wonderful Person of the God-man, Christ Jesus, which are here incomprehensible. [30] Zech. vi. 13 Are we not told that the child born, the son given, is the mighty God? which must surely mean, that the same divine essence dwells in the Father and the Son; that it is one true and essential Godhead, dwelling in the person of the Father, Son, and Spirit; not that they are three Gods, but three distinct persons, constituting one Godhead?--(Does not the body and spirit form one man?) Is not the Son declared equal to the Father as touching his Godhead? Are not their names more descriptive of the relations they sustain in the scheme of Redemption, than indicative of any superiority or inferiority in their essence, or Godhead? Is it not the second person in the glorious Trinity, who has taken the human nature into union with his divine person? And are not God and man united in the complex person of Jesus of Nazareth, Israel's long promised and expected Messiah? His humanity is fully proved by his birth, life, and death; and his Deity is fully attested in the strongest language, for to whom the names, titles, attributes, works and prerogatives of God are ascribed, and declared to belong, surely, He must be the true God; and we have only to search the record of truth, and we shall find ascribed to him, all the distinguishing names and titles of God, as:-- Jehovah, or the Lord,--Isaiah vi. 1. 9, 10. John xii. 37-41. Isaiah xlv. 24, 25. Rom. v. 18. 2 Cor. v. 21. Psalm lxxxiii. 18. Isaiah xlii. 8., xlv. 5, 6. Jeremiah xxiii. 6. 1 Cor. i. 30. Zech. xi. 12, 13. Math. xxvii. 9, 10. The true God,--John i. 2., xvii. 3. 1 John v. 20, 21. The Great and Mighty God,--Deut. x. 17. Jer. xxxii. 18, 19. Isaiah ix. 6. Titus ii. 13. The only God,--Rom. xiv. 9, 10, 11, 12. Deut. iv. 35. 39. Isaiah xlv. 5. 15. 18. 21-25. The only wise God,--Eph. iii. 25, 26, 27. Jude 24, 25. Rom. xvi. 27. 1 Tim i. 17. God blessed for ever,--Rom. i. 25. 2 Cor. xi. 31. Rom. ix. 5. King of Kings, and Lord of Lords,--1 Tim. vi. 14, 15, 16. Rev. xvii. 14., xix. 13. 16. Deut. x. 17. The Lord of Hosts,--2 Sam. vi. 2., vii. 26. Psalm xxiv. 10. Isaiah i. 24., vi. 3., viii. 13, 14., xliv. 6. Hosea xii. 4, 5. Isaiah viii. 13, 14., xxviii. 16. Psalm cxviii. 22. Matt. xxi. 42. 44. Luke xx. 17, 18. 1 Peter ii. 6, 7, 8. Hosea xii. 4, 5. Isaiah liv. 5. Rom. ix. 33., x. 11. The First and the Last,--Isaiah xli. 4., xliv. 6., xlviii. 11, 12. Rev. i. 8. 11. 17, 18., ii. 8. _All the attributes of God ascribed to Christ._ Omniscience,--1 Kings viii. 39. Isaiah xli. 21, 22, 23. Jer. xvii. 9, 10. Matt. xii. 25. John ii. 24, 25., xxi. 17. Rev. ii. 23. Omnipresence,--Psalm xxiii. 4., cxxxix. 7-10. Isaiah xli. 10., xliii. 5. Jer. xxiii. 24. Matt. xviii. 20., xxviii. 20. Eph. i. 23. Omnipotence,--Gen. xvii. 1., xxxv. 11., xlviii. 3. Phil. iii. 21. Rev. i. 8. Eternity,--Psalm xlv. 6., xc. 2. Isaiah xliv. 6. Heb. i. 8., vii. 3. Rev. i. 18., ii. 8. Immutability,--Mal. iii. 6. Heb. i. 12., xiii. 8., i. 8. _Divine works ascribed to Christ._ Creation of the world,--Gen. i. 1. Psalm cii. 25, 26, 27. Isaiah xliv. 24. John i. 1, 2, 3. 10. Col. i. 16, 17. Heb. i. 3. 10., iii. 4. Final Judgment of the world,--Psalm 1. 6. Matt. xxv. 31-46. John v. 21, 22. 25. 27. Rom. iii. 6., xiv. 10. 2 Tim. iv. 1. 2 Cor. v. 10. _The Prerogatives of God ascribed to Christ._ To forgive sin,--Isaiah xliii. 25. Matt. ii. 5. 10. Acts vii. 59, 60. Col. iii. 13. To Baptise with the Holy Ghost,--Joel ii. 28, 29. Neh. ix. 20. Zech. xii. 10. Matt. iii. 11. Acts i. 5., ii. 33. John vii. 39., xvi. 7. Eph. iv. 8. _The Kingdom and Honours of God ascribed to Christ_. An everlasting Kingdom--Psalm xxix. 10., xlv. 6, 7. Heb. i. 8. An universal Kingdom,--Psalm ciii. 19. John xvii. 10. Acts x. 36. Rom. x. 12. Divine Worship,--Deut. vi. 13, 14, 15., x. 20. Exod. xxxiv. 14. Psalm xlv. 11. Matt. iv. 10. John v. 23., xiv. 1., xx. 28. Acts vii. 59. Rom x. 13., xiv. 11., xv. 12. Rev. v. 13. Is not God represented in his word, as highly jealous of his honour, and has he not solemnly declared, that he will not give his glory to another? Then, if Christ is not equal to the Lord of Hosts, whence is it, that the great God does allow, and sanction, his distinguishing names, titles, attributes and works, to be ascribed to Jesus? Can we imagine God to be unmindful of his own honour, or so unkind to his creatures, as to permit those names so descriptive of Deity, to be applied to any mere creature, however superior, or exalted? Has he not pronounced an awful curse on those who worship any but the true God? Can we suppose the blessed God so inattentive to the happiness of his creatures, as to suffer in his revealed word, language so strikingly calculated to lead men into a belief of the Deity of Jesus, if in fact he was not God? No, the God of Truth does not trifle thus with the children of men. He has set all the great and fundamental doctrines of the gospel in the fore-ground; all truths that are essential to be known in order to salvation, are written as with a sunbeam; the Deity of Jesus, foremost of the whole, is so plain, "that he who runs may read," and the "wayfaring man, though a fool, cannot err therein." It does not require superior intellectual powers or attainments, to learn that Jesus is the Christ of God; but it does require art and skill in criticism, to give any other sense to the word of God. There are persons, who deny the Godhead of Jesus, and yet acknowledge him a being of exalted virtue, and a model of perfection, worthy of imitation. But do they not, in robbing him of Deity, destroy all his claim to our attention? in fact do they not make him an impostor and deceiver? Do they not, with the Jews, raise the cry of blasphemy against him? and bring him under the curse and punishment pronounced by the eternal and unchangeable Jehovah, against every blasphemer? Do we not hear Jesus saying--I and my Father are one, the Father dwelleth in me, and I in him, he that hath seen me, hath seen the Father also? And did he not demand all men, to honour the Son, even as they honour the Father? Did he not declare himself equal to the Father, and did not the Jews so understand him, when they took up stones to stone him, because he being man, made himself equal with God? Yes, Jesus proclaimed his Godhead; he allowed and encouraged religious worship to be paid him; in truth, he claimed all the belief and honours due to Deity. Surely then, if he is not God, he has forfeited all claim to our regard and veneration, and appears as a false prophet and teacher; but the mind shudders at imputing deception there. Blessed Jesus! may I, with Thomas, acknowledge thee, from a full conviction of thy Divinity, to be my Lord and my God. Thou hast declared thyself to be the Son of God with power, by thy resurrection from the dead. Hail! thou Wonderful Counsellor, thou Mighty God, thou Everlasting Father; thou who didst from eternity engage to be the Father and head of thy Church; thou who art the second Adam, the Lord from heaven; thou who watchest over thy Church with more than fatherly care; who suppliest all their wants, healest all their diseases, and who, in love, dost "chasten every son whom thou receivest," and wilt at the last great day, present thyself with them to the Father, saying, "Behold I and the children whom thou hast given me." Yes, thou art the everlasting Father, the Prince of Peace; and who so calculated to make peace between God and man, as he in whose person they are both united? He has peace to make between heaven and earth. He can know and satisfy the honour of God, for he is God; he can feel the wants and sorrows of man, for he is "bone of our bone, and flesh of our flesh." When he entered our world, was there not a proclamation of peace on earth, and good will to man? Yes, for the Prince of Peace was come, to make peace and reconciliation, by the blood of his cross. He is a successful Peace-maker; he is, in fact, the only Mediator between God and man; nor is he yet weary of his office, but ever liveth to make intercession for us. Hail! thou Prince of Peace. Did not this glorious Mediator love to manifest himself in that character to the Church, from the earliest ages of the world? Did he not honour many of the patriarchs and prophets with a display of his person? Was it not the Messiah, who appeared to the Old Testament saints? Has he not ever been the only visible image of the invisible God? Are we not told that no man hath seen the Father, save the only begotten of the Father, who came down from heaven? Do we not find an opinion generally prevalent amongst the ancient Jews, that no man could see the face of God, and live? Moses, and the assembled multitude at mount Sinai, were of this opinion. Isaiah exclaimed, "Wo is me, I am undone, for I have seen the King, the Lord of hosts." Manoah, Ezekiel, Daniel, Amos, and the other ancient worthies to whom God appeared, were filled with the same awful apprehensions. Is it not more than probable, that God, in the person of the Father, has ever been invisible to the inhabitants of earth? Would not the true majesty, and splendour of Godhead be more than man in his present state could bear? Might not the sight of unclouded Deity destroy a body of flesh? Are not all those passages where the great God is said to appear and converse with his creatures, more applicable to the God-man, Christ Jesus, than to the first person of the sacred Trinity? Is it not more becoming him, who, in after ages, was to take on him a body of flesh and blood, to appear as man, than that God the Father, should do so? Were not the three men who appeared to Abraham in the plains of Mamre, as he sat at his tent door, in the heat of the day, this Messiah God-man, attended by two angels; and were not the two angels sent forward to destroy Sodom, while the Lord tarried behind to hear the intercession of Abraham, for that devoted city? Was not the same glorious personage the man with whom Jacob wrestled, when he is said to have had power with God and to have prevailed? Was he not _that_ Angel of God's presence, who led the children of Israel into Canaan, of whom God said, "beware of him, and obey his voice, provoke him not, for he will not pardon your transgressions; for my name is in him?" Did he not also appear to Joshua, as Captain of the Lord's hosts? Did he not in vision appear in the same form to Ezekiel and Daniel, as he afterwards did to John, in the Isle of Patmos? And are not all the other passages, of a similar kind, equally applicable to the Christ of God? Can we not enter into the prophet's meaning, and set our seal to the glorious truth, that "unto us a Child is born, unto us a Son is given, and the government shall be upon his shoulder, and his name shall be called Wonderful, Counsellor, the Mighty God, the Everlasting Father, the Prince of Peace?" CHAPTER XII. And in the days of these kings shall the God of heaven set up a kingdom, which shall never be destroyed: and the kingdom shall not be left to other people, but it shall break in pieces and consume all these kingdoms, and it shall stand for ever.--Daniel ii. 44. The book of Daniel contains some very striking prophecies. The chapter from which this is selected, is not amongst the least interesting. The interpretation given by him to the king of Babylon's dream, demands our particular attention. He speaks of four kingdoms, as represented by the image.[31] The first, or head of gold, is the Chaldean monarchy; which gives way to that figured by the arms of silver, the kingdoms of Media and Persia. This is succeeded by the Grecian, represented by the brass. Then follows the fourth or iron, which is the Roman power, "in the days of whose kings, shall the God of heaven set up a kingdom, which shall never be destroyed," &c. &c. We will search for proofs of its accomplishment. Daniel was an Israelitish captive at Babylon, and when he wrote the first part of his prophetical book, the kingdom of Chaldea was first in the scale of nations. In earthly pomp and grandeur it surpassed all other states. The land of Judea was then in its possession, and her people, its captives. Its capital, the mighty Babylon, was, from the solidity of its walls, the strength of its fortifications, and its gates of brass, considered impregnable; but, agreeably to scripture prophecy,[32] the city was taken by Cyrus: he entered it by the channel of the river Euphrates, whose waters he had directed into another course; and during a night of riotous festivity, in which the Babylonians had forgotten to shut their brasen gates, the city was taken by Cyrus, whom the Lord, at least one hundred and seventy years before, named as his servant to destroy the kingdom of Chaldea for their cruel treatment of his captive Israel. Cyrus, the conqueror of Babylon (who issued a proclamation for the Jews to return to their beloved Jerusalem after seventy years captivity) was heir to the throne of Persia; and succeeded to that of Media, by virtue of his marriage with the daughter of Cyaxares (otherwise Darius) his uncle. The kingdoms of Media and Persia thus united under Cyrus (after the overthrow of Babylon) obtained the supremacy of the world, and preserved that pre-eminence two hundred and six years, when it was subdued by Alexander, styled the great, whose dissatisfaction amidst the shouts of victory, and the dazzling accompaniments of power, strikingly show the fallacy of seeking true happiness from sublunary objects. Alexander founded the Grecian empire, which continued one hundred and seventy seven years, when it was compelled to submit to Rome's conquering legions, to whom all nations bowed, and, by tribute, acknowledged as their superior. In the days of these kings, did the God of heaven set up a kingdom, which shall never be destroyed: yes, in the reign of Augustus, did the mighty King Jesus first openly declare and set up his great spiritual kingdom. Its beginning, to human appearance, was small and unpromising. Yet, this stone which was cut out without hands, (i. e.) without human power or worldly policy, shall become a great mountain, and fill the whole earth. It is true, the Jewish nation expected the Messiah to come, surrounded by all the splendours of eastern magnificence; that he would deliver them from the Roman power, and, after a reign more glorious than Solomon's, establish a kingdom which should remain unshaken till time shall be no more. But, shall the unchangeable Jehovah alter his purposes or mould his plans, to meet the idle fancies or short-sighted schemes of the children of men? No, the Messiah has appeared, not in the style they had anticipated, but in the manner most agreeable to the mind of infinite Wisdom. Yet, because he did not assume the gaudy trappings of earthly state, the Jews reject him, and vainly look for another, although he appeared at the time predicted. The Roman power is now laid low, and according to all their prophecies, the period is passed when he, of whom Moses and the prophets did write, should appear. Jesus far exceeds in real excellence, even their own highly coloured portrait, for the blessings of his reign extend to ages yet unborn. They expected a temporal king, but no; the land of Canaan, although the glory of all lands, was far too insignificant for him to accept as the sphere of his government. He shall sway his kingly sceptre, not only over Judea's fruitful land; but his dominions extend from sea to sea, and from the river even to the ends of the earth. The mightiest monarchies are often swept away, as by the besom of destruction, and all are compelled to submit to the iron hand of time; yet his, is an everlasting kingdom, which cannot be moved by the revolutions of nations, but shall continue firm and unshaken even amidst the crash of worlds. It was expected the Messiah would deliver them from the Roman power; but mark, it was said, his name _shall_ be called Jesus, for he shall _save_ his people (not from their temporal oppressor but) from their sins.[33] Surely it must be confessed, that earth's greatest conqueror, is far below him who delivers from the bondage of sin and satan, which is the worst of slavery. Yes, Jesus saves his people, the true Israel of God, from the consequences and power of sin; from the former, by bearing the punishment himself, and from the latter, by his Spirit implanted in their hearts. The kingdom shall not be left to other people, but he will constantly direct and order all its affairs, and he shall reign and rule for ever. [31] Dan. ii. 31-45., vii. 1-27. [32] Isaiah xlv. 1-4. [33] Matt. i. 21. CHAPTER XIII. When Israel was a child, then I loved him, and called my son out of Egypt.--Hosea xi. 1. We cannot entertain a doubt that this verse alludes to the call of the children of Israel from Egypt, yet we are not to suppose it refers exclusively to that event, but we are to behold it pointing to Israel's Lord. Christ is said to be the husband of his Church, and they are both called by the name of Israel;[34] and this verse is only one amongst the many instances which occur in the Old Testament. The patriarch Jacob, or (as he was surnamed by God) Israel, went with his descendants into Egypt, for shelter and sustenance in the days of famine, but they were afterwards cruelly entreated four hundred years; from which state of oppression and bondage, the Lord called and delivered them. In after ages Jesus, God's beloved son, our Israel, was taken into Egypt, to avoid the persecution of Herod; and when that tyrant was dead, God called the holy child Jesus from that land of heathens, by the ministration of an angel. In Egypt, Israel was first formed into a church; and thither did the great head of the Church also go; and the Holy Ghost, by the evangelist Matthew, has stated, that it was on purpose to fulfil this prediction. That Jesus was as much the beloved of the Father, when tabernacling here below, as when he lay in the Father's bosom, cannot be doubted;[35] indeed, all the honours of his mediatorial kingdom, are the fruits of his humiliation and suffering. We hear him saying, "for this cause doth my Father love me, because I lay down my life, that I might take it again." [34] Isaiah xliv. 21., xlix. 3. [35] Matt. iii. 17. xvii. 5. Mark i. 11., ix. 7. CHAPTER XIV. Her Nazarites were purer than snow, they were whiter than milk, they were more ruddy in body than rubies, their polishing was of sapphire: Their visage is blacker than a coal; they are not known in the streets: their skin cleaveth to their bones; it is withered, it is become like a stick.--Lamentations iv. 7, 8. In the Old Testament we find a description of the order of the Nazarites and their laws; we discover a Nazarite to be one set apart or separated for the Lord, either for a given time, as in the case of a vow, or for life, as Sampson, who was a Nazarite from his birth.[36] The order was one of Israel's glories; for the Lord when enumerating some of the many honours conferred by him on the nation, adds; "and I raised up of your young men to be Nazarites." They were all so many types, pointing to the one great Nazarite, even Jesus; whom it will not be difficult to recognise, under this description. Jesus is the true Nazarite unto God, in the eternal council of peace; he was set apart to accomplish the Lord's great work of redemption.[37] Of him it can truly be said, he is purer than snow, and whiter than milk: he, and he alone, is free from the least spot or stain of sin: being "holy, harmless, undefiled, and _separate_ from sinners. The Church describes her Lord, "as white and ruddy;" as the "altogether lovely and the chiefest among ten thousand." Yet when tabernacling here below "his visage was so marred more than any man's," and his "form more than the sons of men:" when seen in our streets he had "no form, comeliness, nor beauty, that those who saw him should desire him." This lamentation of the prophet was called forth, by the state of misery and wretchedness, to which the Chaldeans had reduced the nation; yet it had a peculiar reference to him, who in after ages was known by the name of Jesus of Nazareth. No doubt his having resided in a town of that name, was _one_ cause of his having so universally obtained the appellation. We find it used by the band of armed men when they came to apprehend him, and by the maid-servant in the hall; Pilate affixed it to the cross; the devils used it. It was also used by blind Bartimeus; by the apostles, both before, and after their Lord's resurrection; by the angels at the tomb, and by Jesus himself. And by the power of the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, was one lame from his birth made to leap, arise, and walk.[38] We are told the word is derived from Natzar, which signifies a branch; and is not Jesus described as the man whose name is "the Branch?" yes, he is the branch out of Jesse's root, whom the Lord has made strong for himself. [36] Numbers vi. 2, 3. 13. 18-21. Judges xiii. 5 7., xvi. 17. [37] Hebrews ix. 14. 2 Tim. i. 9. [38] The first who appears to have called our Lord, Jesus of Nazareth, was the Devil in the person of the poor maniac, and is it not probable that Satan influenced the minds of men to give him that distinction with a view to deceive them as to the place of his birth; which was not at Nazareth, but at Bethlehem? CHAPTER XV. The spirit of the Lord God is upon me; because the Lord hath anointed me to preach good tidings unto the meek: he hath sent me to bind up the broken-hearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives, and the opening of the prison to them that are bound; to proclaim the acceptable year of the Lord, and the day of vengeance of our God; to comfort all that mourn.--Isaiah lxi. 1, 2, 3. This is one of the many descriptions we meet with of the Messiah, who is represented as being especially anointed to his office.[39] We cannot be at a loss for a satisfactory proof of the fulfilment of this prophecy, in the person of Jesus of Nazareth. He did not come forth unsent or unanointed. When he publicly entered on the great work of his mission, he was anointed to the office by the visible outpouring of the Spirit. We are told, that immediately after his baptism in the waters of Jordan, the heavens were opened, and the Spirit of God, as a dove, descended and lighted upon him; and a voice was heard from heaven, saying, "this is my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased." Thus we hear the Father bearing testimony to the person of the Son, and we see the Holy Spirit descending and resting on Jesus. Thus, did the three persons of the glorious Trinity, at one time, distinctly manifest themselves, and that at the entrance of Jesus on his great work. It may be proper to observe that, as God, he needed not the anointing of the Spirit, for in him dwelt all the fullness of the Godhead bodily. It was the human nature of the God-man, Christ Jesus, that was anointed to the great office of mediator, which work he had before, by covenant, engaged to perform. To him, the Spirit was not given in a limited measure; he is the "Wonderful Counsellor;" in "him are hid all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge." It would be a recapitulation of a great part of the New Testament, to shew the exact method in which this prophecy was fulfilled. When the disciples of John came to Jesus, to inquire if he really was the Messiah, he, as one confirmation of the fact, told them that to the poor he preached the gospel. Yes, we find Jesus, when on earth, spending a great part of the three years and a half of his public ministry in journeying to the towns and villages, publishing the "glad tidings of great joy," of which angels were once the honoured messengers, namely, "Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will towards men." The common people, we are told, heard him gladly. Jesus can, with much propriety and justice, proclaim "liberty to the captive, and the opening of the prison to them that are bound;" he can say, with authority, "deliver him from going down to the pit, I have found a ransom." Jesus is also King in Zion, whose mourners he will never fail to comfort; they can celebrate their Lord's mercies in the language of the Church of old, "Sing, O heavens, and be joyful, O earth; and break forth into singing, O mountains; for the Lord hath comforted his people, and will have mercy upon his afflicted." We cannot find an instance on record of any persons who in their trouble fled to Jesus when on earth, but whatever was the nature of their distress, he always removed it. We also hear him proclaiming the "acceptable year of the Lord," saying, Come now; even to-day, if ye will hear my voice; "now is the accepted time, now is the day of salvation." While he proclaims "the year of his redeemed," he does not neglect to publish "the day of vengeance of our God." Though he delight in words of mercy and of comfort, he does not shun to declare the whole counsel of God. As a faithful monitor, we repeatedly hear him urging sinners to flee from the wrath to come, and solemnly warning them of the fearful punishment awaiting those, who reject the counsel of God against their own souls.[40] Nor did he fail to speak in the strongest language of the miseries which will be the portion of those, in another world, who, in this, reject and disobey him. When Jesus read aloud this prophecy in the Jewish synagogue, and declared it was that day fulfilled; we are told "all the people bear him witness, and wondered at the gracious words that proceeded out of his mouth." Every one who reads the history of Jesus with a candid mind, must be constrained to acknowledge that through every part of his active and eventful life, his conduct manifested, that the "Spirit of the Lord rested upon him;" that his was "the spirit of wisdom and understanding, the spirit of counsel and of might, the spirit of knowledge and of the fear of the Lord." [39] Psalm xlv. 7. [40] Hebrews x. 28. CHAPTER XVI. For he shall give his angels charge over thee, to keep thee in all thy ways. They shall bear thee up in their hands, lest thou dash thy foot against a stone.--Psalm xci. 11, 12. The psalm from which this is taken, describes, in glowing language, the blessed state of those who have God for their refuge; but we are not to limit the entire application of these verses to the sons of men. We find they have a reference to the God-Man, Christ Jesus. At his first entrance on the great work of his mission, he was for forty days and nights tempted by Satan, during which time the devil made use of every artifice to tempt and destroy him. Amongst other schemes, he set Jesus on a pinnacle of the temple, and desired him to prove his Godhead, by casting himself down from the height; for he said, it was written that the angels of God had charge concerning him, and in their hands they were to bear him up, lest at any time he dash his foot against a stone. Jesus gave other proof of his Deity than Satan desired: he told him he should not tempt the Lord his God, and he also added "Get thee hence Satan, for it is written, thou shalt worship the Lord thy God, and him only shalt thou serve." It is an undeniable fact that when Jesus was on earth, the devils knew his person and publicly acknowledged his Godhead. Yes, angels and devils own his power; and shall the sons of earth whom he formed from the dust, be the last to confess a truth which is acknowledged by all in heaven and hell--by the wisest and best created intelligences, and by the fallen angels, who were expelled the heavenly mansions, and consigned to the lake of fire and brimstone, for rebelling against the authority of the great Mediator between God and man,[41] who was, in after ages, known by the name of Jesus of Nazareth. [41] Daniel xii. 1. Revelations xii. 7. CHAPTER XVII. And I will shake all nations, and the desire of all nations shall come: and I will fill this house with glory, saith the Lord of hosts. The glory of this latter house shall be greater than of the former, saith the Lord of hosts; and in this place will I give peace, saith the Lord of Hosts.--Haggai ii. 7, 9. Haggai prophesied at that period of the Church's history, when, after the return from the Babylonish captivity, the Jews built the second temple: on which occasion, we are told the young men shouted for joy; but the old men wept,[42] for they had seen the glory of the former house, in comparison with which, the second was nothing. But the Lord commissioned Haggai to inform them, for their comfort, that the glory of the latter house should be greater than of the former. It appears by the descriptions given us of the temple built by Solomon, that it surpassed in grandeur and magnificence all other buildings, which in any age have appeared to astonish and delight the world. It has never been equalled, either as it respects the grandeur of the design, or the richness of its internal decorations; a great part was overlaid with pure gold. But these were not the most glorious distinctions of the former house. It contained the Ark, with the mercy seat and cherubim;[43] the Urim and Thummim,[44] the spirit of prophecy,[45] the holy fire,[46] and the Shechinah, or Divine Presence.[47] The Jews themselves must confess that the second temple was destitute of these five signs, which so eminently distinguished the first house. We hear nothing of them after the Babylonish captivity. Well might the old men weep, for Ichabod (the glory is departed) might with much propriety, have been written on the walls of their newly erected temple. It was afterwards considerably injured during the wars, but was repaired and beautified by Herod; yet none, when speaking of the splendour of the temple, can allow it to bear any comparison with the one built by Solomon: yet the Lord hath said, "the glory of the latter house should be greater than of the former;" and God is not unmindful of his promises, nor has he ever neglected to fulfil them. We will therefore endeavour to discover if this has not been accomplished. We observe, that the Lord would first "shake all nations; and the desire of all nations should come;" and then "would he fill the house with glory." This promise was made shortly after the return of the Jews from Babylon; which kingdom had been shaken to its centre, as were also in succession the kingdoms of Persia and Greece. The thrones and power of their kings had been subverted, the nations almost annihilated; and Rome was the mistress of the world, when Jesus, the "desire of all nations," appeared. Perhaps it may be said, that few nations had even heard of the promised Messiah, and still fewer desired his coming. But do not the guilty sigh for pardon, the captives for liberty, the oppressed for a deliverer? does not the debtor need a surety; the weary and heavy laden rest; the diseased a physician; the young a guide; the aged a support; the distressed a comforter; the hungry food; the thirsty water; the ignorant an instructor; and the wanderer shelter? That these things are desired by all people and nations, none can deny; but it is in Christ alone we can find a supply for all our spiritual wants, and a remedy for these, and a long list of unmentioned ills. In Jesus there is a fulness to supply all our need. He has pardon for the guilty, "liberty for the captive;" he is the "surety" of the debtor, and the "physician" of the sin-sick soul; he will be a guide to youth, and "even to hoar hairs he will be with them;" he is the "water of life," and the "bread that cometh down from heaven;" his "flesh is meat indeed," and his "blood drink indeed:" he will teach the ignorant wisdom, and "deliver the oppressed;" he calls to him the "weary and heavy laden," promising to "give them rest;" he bids the mourner be of good comfort, for he will give "the oil of joy for mourning, and the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness;" and truly he is the refuge of the destitute. In short, it is only in him, and from him, we can find supplies for all our spiritual wants; with him is "life," "light," "liberty," and "joy." Surely if all nations did but know him, all nations would love him too; for he is justly described by the Church as "the altogether lovely, and the chiefest amongst ten thousand." The fulfilment of the latter clause of the prophecy, was literally accomplished when Jesus (the second person in the revealed order of the Trinity), in our nature, entered the temple. Surely that must be acknowledged a far more glorious distinction, than the ten thousands of gold and silver which ornamented the former house. Yea, it was a greater honour to have the Lord of Hosts, the God of Israel, personally teaching in the temple, than the five signs which constituted the greatest glory of the former house. They were only intended to exhibit to our view a God in Christ. The temple and its contents were but figures of the things signified, even the Messiah. The second temple was honoured not with types, but the person; not with the shadows of the good things to come, but the substance, even Jesus, the Son of the most High. At twelve years of age, Jesus was found in the temple, in the midst of the Doctors of the Law, both hearing and asking them questions. Often, in the days of his flesh, did he visit the temple, and from within its walls, did he instruct the people, and declare his divine mission. To those who deny that Jesus was the Messiah, this promise must for ever remain unfulfilled; for the second temple never did, either in its buildings, or decorations, surpass, or even equal the glory of the former. It is now seventeen hundred years since the second temple was destroyed, and all its stones laid level with the dust. Thus are they reduced to the alternative of representing God as failing to fulfil his promises; a sentiment, it might be supposed, any man would shudder to advance, and much less maintain. To those who receive "the truth as it is in Jesus," there appears a beautiful harmony between the promise, and the accomplishment; they can exclaim, truly did "the glory of the latter house exceed that of the former," for it was honoured with the personal presence of Jesus, the "Christ of God," "the Lord of life and glory," "the prince of peace." Of whom, it may be justly observed, that he is the only source from which true and lasting peace can be expected without the fear of a disappointment; and this "peace is made through the blood of his cross." [42] Ezra iii. 12. [43] Exod. xxv. 19. 20. 21. [44] Exod. xxviii. 30. Deut. xxxiii. 8. [45] 2 Kings xix. 14-37. [46] 2 Chron. vii. 1. 3. [47] 2 Chron. vii. 2. CHAPTER XVIII. And the Lord, whom ye seek, shall suddenly come to his temple, even the messenger of the covenant, whom ye delight in: behold, he shall come saith the Lord of Hosts.--Mal. iii. 1. The coming of the Messiah was anticipated with much impatience and pleasure by the Jewish nation, and particularly about the time Augustus Cæsar was Emperor of Rome, in whose reign, it will be remembered, Jesus was born. The period according to Daniel's Prophecy being arrived, the attention of all classes of the people was so excited by his expected advent, that when John came, "all men mused in their hearts, if he were the Christ or not." But he disclaimed all pretensions to being the Messiah, and pointed to Jesus as the illustrious person, whose coming had been so long foretold. We find many instances recorded, which prove the Jews to have been on the look out for their long promised deliverer. Aged "Simeon waited for the consolation of Israel:" it had been revealed to him, by the Holy Ghost, that he should not see death, before he had "seen the Lord's Christ:" when the child Jesus was brought into the temple, the aged prophet took him up in his arms, and exclaimed, with holy joy, "Lord, now let thy servant depart in peace, for mine eyes have seen thy salvation &c., &c." Anna the prophetess, also, "spake of him to all that looked for redemption in Israel." Frequently during the life of Jesus do we hear the people exclaim,--surely this is "the prophet that was for to come." We find the Priests and Levites, persons, it must be supposed, best acquainted with the writings of the Old Testament, requesting Jesus to tell them plainly, if "he were the Christ or not." The Lord whom they "sought, suddenly came to his temple;" yet when "he came to his own" nation, "they received him not," for their minds were darkened by their false notions of a temporal king. This prophecy loudly proclaims the Godhead of Jesus, for to ascribe a temple to any but God is idolatry; a sin most strictly forbidden throughout every part of the word of God. Jesus is also the Messenger of the covenant. He publicly proclaimed the nature of the covenant ratified in the Court of Heaven, between the persons of the glorious Trinity, even the covenant of redemption, which is "well ordered in all things and sure," and was concluded ere the hills were made, or the mountains brought forth; when this "earth was without form, and void, and darkness was upon the face of the deep."[48] [48] Prov. viii. 22-31. CHAPTER XIX. Nevertheless, the dimness shall not be such as was in her vexation, when at first he lightly afflicted the land of Zebulun, and the land of Naphtali, and afterward did more grievously afflict her by the way of the sea, beyond Jordan, in Galilee of the nations. The people that walked in darkness, have seen a great light: they that dwell in the land of the shadow of death, upon them hath the light shined.--Isaiah ix. 1. 2. From the days of Malachi, the last of the prophets, until the coming of John the Baptist, a period of four hundred and thirty-six years, the Church was in a state of great darkness and apparent desertion. This prophecy was fulfilled when Jesus resided, or personally preached in the towns of Galilee; then, "the land of Zabulon, and the land of Nephthalim, by the way of the sea, beyond Jordan, Galilee of the Gentiles; the people which sat in darkness saw a great light; and of them which sat in the region and shadow of death light sprung up." Jesus is "the true light, that lighteneth every man that cometh into the world." He is given to be "a light to lighten the Gentiles and the glory of his people Israel." To whom we would say, "Arise, shine, for thy light is come, and the glory of the Lord is risen upon thee." For through the tender mercy of our God, Jesus, the day-spring from on high, hath visited us, to give light to them that sit in darkness, and in the shadow of death, and to guide our feet in the way of peace. "Light and immortality are brought to light by the gospel" of Jesus, who is himself the divine fountain, or source from whence must emanate all spiritual light. He is the light and the life of man; he came a light into this world, that whosoever believeth in him should not abide in "darkness." CHAPTER XX. Rejoice greatly, O daughter of Zion; shout, O daughter of Jerusalem; behold, thy King cometh unto thee: he is just, and having salvation; lowly, and riding upon an ass, and upon a colt the foal of an ass.--Zechariah ix. 9. We have so striking an accomplishment of this prophecy, that it is scarcely possible to imagine one can be found, who is unwilling to point to Jesus and exclaim, Zion behold your King. Was it ever known that any other king, except Jesus, made such an humble entry into the city of Jerusalem, or indeed any city. No, his was altogether the reverse of such processions. Here was no herald to proclaim his approach, no charger highly caparisoned to convey the Monarch, no royal purple or glittering attire to distinguish him from the throng, or dazzle the unthinking crowds. In himself and attendants, all was, to outward appearance, mean and contemptible. Yet the minds of this vast multitude, were for the moment so struck with the truth of his Messiah-ship, that with one simultaneous shout, they make the air resound with Hosannas to the Son of David; "blessed is he that cometh in the name of the Lord; Hosanna in the highest." This is not the only instance of their wishing to make him their king.[49] His disciples were impressed with the common error, that he would establish a temporal kingdom. After his resurrection we hear them saying, "Lord wilt thou at this time restore the kingdom to Israel?" But no, his kingdom is not of this world, else would his servants have been called on to fight for it. The weapons of their warfare, are "not carnal but spiritual, and mighty, through God, to pulling down the strong holds of sin and satan." We do not hear that Jesus made one visit to the court of monarchy, but many to the temple. The Roman authorities viewed him with a jealous eye, and passed sentence on him for avouching his kingly authority. It is worthy of remark, that the superscription affixed to his cross, instead of declaring him an usurper, did, in four languages, proclaim his innocence, and acknowledge his authority--"Jesus of Nazareth the King of the Jews." Yes, the meek and lowly Jesus--Jehovah has set as king upon his holy hill of Zion; he is "King of Kings, and Lord of Lords." He is just, for "behold a King shall reign in righteousness." He not only has salvation, but he is Jehovah's salvation, to the ends of the earth. To him "every knee shall bow, and every tongue confess," that "he is Lord, to the glory of God the Father." It was a striking display of his Godhead, in directing his disciples where to find the colt, and in overruling the mind of the owner, to let the animal go only on their saying, "the Lord hath need of him." Yes, he is the Lord of the whole earth; "the beasts of the forests are his, and so are the cattle on a thousand hills." [49] John vi. 15. CHAPTER XXI. Is this house, which is called by my name, become a den of robbers in your eyes? Behold, even I have seen it, saith the Lord.--Jeremiah vii. 11. An attentive reader of the New Testament, will easily discover the correspondence between these words, and the circumstance of Jesus driving the buyers and sellers from the temple; which action deserves to be carefully considered. It may appear extraordinary, that persons should have dared to make the temple of God the seat of commerce, for it was still used as the high place for offering the daily sacrifice. But it is probable that, at the first, persons were allowed to bring for sale, into some of the outer courts or inclosures of the temple, doves, and those animals the Jews used for sacrifices; that persons who resided at a distance, and could not, without considerable inconvenience, bring their sacrifices with them to Jerusalem, might always be able to purchase such animals as they wished to offer.[50] In after years, this privilege was abused, and instead of a sale of animals exclusively for sacrifice, it became the busy scene of commerce; and buyers and sellers, merchants and money-changers, used it as the great mart for business. Thus a place set apart for the worship of the Most High God, was made the general rendezvous of men, whose only aim, was to get money, even though it were at the expense of their religion. Such was the disgraceful scene exhibited at the temple in the days of Jesus, who, indignant at the sight, would not suffer it to pass unreproved. Having made a scourge of small cords, he went into the temple, and drove before him, not only, the herds of cattle, but the buyers and sellers themselves; and even overthrew the tables of the money-changers, and poured out their money. One would imagine the Man who was able to drive so numerous an assemblage of persons from their long accustomed (and to many of them lucrative) seat of trade, must have been supported by the weight of the civil and military authorities of the state; but it was quite the contrary: yea, even the Priests who ought to have been most anxious to preserve the sanctity of the place, were the first to oppose this cleansing of the temple. Surely it must be matter of wonder, how this Man of Nazareth could, unaided by human power, so easily accomplish a change fraught with danger and difficulty: but such was the fact, and there appears but one way to account for the prompt submission of those buyers and sellers; which is, that, Jesus being both God and Man in one person, his Deity was not on this occasion so much concealed beneath the manhood, but shone forth with such majestic dignity, that none dared to resist or dispute his authority. All were awed into quiet submission to the command of the God-man Christ Jesus; when he said, "take these things hence, and make not my Father's house, an house of merchandise;" it is written, "my house, shall be called the house of prayer, but ye have made it a den of thieves." Not only his acts, but his words, proclaim his Deity. Jesus can with propriety call God, Father, for he is his first begotten, well beloved Son, and, as such, he has rule over his Father's house.[51] The disciples who were observers of the event, struck at the display of his Godhead, applied to him the words of the psalmist; "The zeal of thine house hath eaten me up, and the reproaches of them that reproached thee, are fallen upon me." If we except the miracle recorded by John, of the armed men falling to the ground on the reply of Jesus, this certainly is one of the greatest miracles he performed in the days of his flesh. [50] Deut. xiv. 23-26. [51] John v. 22, 23. CHAPTER XXII. Out of the mouth of babes and sucklings hast thou ordained strength, because of thine enemies; that thou mightest still the enemy and avenger.--Psalm viii. 2. The manner in which this prophecy was fulfilled is very interesting. When Jesus drave out the buyers and sellers from the temple, we are told the children shouted hosannas to the Son of David. The Chief Priests and Scribes were filled with indignation to hear even children confess a truth they wished buried in eternal silence; and, coming to Jesus, they said, dost thou not hear what these say? But he mildly answered, "Yea, have ye never read, Out of the mouth of babes and sucklings thou hast perfected praise?" It is more than probable that amongst the persons he had just expelled from the temple, were the parents of some of these children; it would not therefore have excited our astonishment so much, to have found them mocking and reviling the man of Nazareth, as it does to hear them shouting hosannas to the Son of David. There were none of those gay distinctions in the person of Jesus, which so usually please and delight children; all was as to outward appearance mean and unattractive; yet their youthful hearts were filled with love and admiration for the person of the Man, so generally treated with contempt; and they as with one voice shout the praises of this Son of David. Ought it not for ever to have put to silence the Priests and Scribes, and all those bitter enemies of Jesus, when he gave such clear proofs of his being the Messiah, that even these Jewish children, could discover him to be the very person their parents, from the first dawn of reason, had taught them to expect, as the long promised deliverer of Israel, who should spring from David's royal line. CHAPTER XXIII. I have preached righteousness in the great congregation; I have not refrained my lips, O Lord, thou knowest.--Psalm xl. 9. It is said, to the immortal honour of Noah, that he was a preacher of righteousness to the Old World:[52] but as the glory of the latter dispensation far exceeds that of the former,[53] so is its founder greatly distinguished from all the prophets and teachers under the Jewish economy. We find Jesus actively engaged in preaching his own gospel, whenever opportunity offered, free from the trammels of form, and the circumscribed rules of human order. We see him in the temple, and the field; in the synagogue, and on a mountain; in the crowded street, and the wilderness; in the house, and by the sea shore: at one time to the crowded throng, and then to the little troop of disciples; now to learned rabbies and rulers, and then to a few fishermen of Galilee; but in every place and company he was a preacher of righteousness. He did not refrain his lips from fear of man. He did not hesitate to publish doctrines necessary to be known, because they were of a kind likely to be ungraciously received. He shunned not to proclaim the whole truth; whether men would hear, or whether they would forbear. Again, look at him as a preacher of righteousness. All he taught was pure and undefiled as the light of heaven. He did not flatter one vice, or countenance one folly. He described sin as hateful to God, whether in the priest or people, the ruler or the ruled. He taught the Jews, who rested in the mere letter of the law, that it is of a spiritual nature, "extending not only to the outward actions," but to the "thoughts and intents of the heart." He inculcated obedience, not on the narrow principle of self love, or to gain the praise of man; but he insisted, that it can only be acceptable to God when springing from a principle of love to God and man. He did not instruct his hearers to keep a fair exterior only, but he went at once to the seat of iniquity, the human heart; and declared that the fountain must be first cleansed before the streams can be made pure. Again, we behold him as a preacher of righteousness, declaring that "except our righteousness exceed that of the Scribes and Pharisees, we cannot enter the kingdom of heaven." He taught that we must be clothed with a better righteousness than our tattered rags, ere we can be allowed to sit down at the "marriage supper of the Lamb," where all the guests are arrayed in "fine linen, clean and white," which fine linen is the "righteousness of the saints." This wedding garment is provided by the Lord of the feast, and is the spotless robe of Jesus's perfect and complete righteousness. [52] 2 Peter ii. 5. [53] Heb. xii. 18-24. CHAPTER XXIV. I will open my mouth in a parable; I will utter dark sayings of old.--Psalm lxxviii. 2. We hear Balaam, the son of Beor, from the heights of Moab, attended by an idolatrous king and prince, taking up his parable on the multitudes of Israel. We also find many of the prophets of the Lord in the different ages of the Church, presenting their Master's message in the dress of parable. The sweet singer of Israel is here said to open his mouth in a parable, and utter dark sayings, which have been kept secret since the foundation of the world. But we are compelled to pass by this son of Jesse, to direct our attention to one who may not unaptly be styled 'the man of parables.' Jesus so frequently used them in his discourse to the multitude, that it is said "that without a parable spake he not unto them;" and who can read his parables without exclaiming, "surely never man spake like this man." His discourses are adorned with the striking force and luxuriant imagery of the East. He made use of the most beautiful language and elegant ideas, to impress on the mind a knowledge of things which are not seen and spiritual, by similies drawn from things which are seen and temporal. Who can read the affecting representation of the pity and forgiveness God manifests towards the ungrateful, rebellious, but afterwards penitent sinner, so forcibly displayed in the parable of the Prodigal Son, without being charmed at the happy simplicity that pervades the whole. Unlike the productions of men, the words of Jesus, like the works of creation, display new beauties on every attentive examination. They lose nothing by a minute inspection--they are not mere empty words: at every perusal they are increasingly attractive, and we discover that the most sublime truths are taught, where, perhaps, at the first reading, we beheld nothing particularly instructive or engaging. CHAPTER XXV. He shall feed his flock like a shepherd: he shall gather the lambs with his arm, and carry them in his bosom, and shall gently lead those that are with young.--Isaiah xl. 11. The Messiah is here, and in several other parts of the old Testament, held forth to our view under the character of a shepherd. He is called, "Jehovah's shepherd," and to his care is committed the safeguard of God's flock. He is described as "seeking out and delivering his sheep from all places where they have been scattered, in the cloudy and dark day." He is said to "seek that which was lost," and to "bring again that which was driven away;" "to bind up that which was broken; to strengthen that which was sick; to gather the lambs with his arms, and carry them in his bosom;" "to make them lie down in green pastures, and lead them forth beside the still waters;" in short, to him are attributed all the kind offices of a "good shepherd." It will not be difficult to recognise Jesus under this description. On examining the New Testament, we find in it an exact counterpart of this character. We hear Jesus describe himself as "the true shepherd," who "calleth his sheep by name, and leadeth them out, and the sheep follow him, for they know his voice; but a stranger will they not follow, for they know not the voice of strangers;" "he knoweth his sheep, and is known of them, and they go in and out, and find pasture." His watchfulness and power are such, that he will not suffer any, either by surprise or force, to pluck them out of his hands;[54] nor will he forsake them in the hour of danger; "he fleeth not, because he is not an hireling;" and he will eventually collect both the Gentile and Jewish flocks together, that there may "be one fold,[55] under one shepherd." Nor shall one of the least of the flock be missing; all "his sheep must pass again under the hands of him that telleth them;" even the "good shepherd who has laid down his life for the sheep;" and now liveth to watch over, defend, guide, and supply the wants of his flock, from whom he will withhold no "manner of thing that is good." [54] John x. 28, 29. [55] John x. 16. Certain it is, this "Chief Shepherd" will punish[56] the unfaithful hirelings "who feed themselves, but not their flocks;" "who have not strengthened the diseased, healed the sick, neither have bound up that which was broken, neither brought again that which was driven away, nor sought that which was lost; but with force and cruelty have ruled them." Therefore, O ye shepherds! hear the word of the Lord; thus saith the Lord God, "Behold I am against the shepherds, and will require my flock at their hands, and cause them to cease from feeding the flock; neither shall they feed themselves any more." [56] Ezek. xxxiv. 10. CHAPTER XXVI. And shall make him of quick understanding in the fear of the Lord: and he shall not judge after the sight of his eyes, neither reprove after the hearing of his ears.--Isaiah xi. 3. The deceptions practised by the human race are many and various. With no other clue to discover the real character of individuals than their professions and conduct, men are often led to form the most unjust opinions; and frequent and lamentable are the mistakes that arise. Falsehood often lurks beneath the warmest professions; the guise of friendship is made to conceal the perfidious spirit, the mask of sincerity is worn by the consummate deceiver, and man becomes the dread and fear of man. Who can look at Jesus, without being struck at the nice discrimination of character he discovered in his opinions of the men by whom he was surrounded. He could espy in Nathaniel "an Israelite in whom there was no guile." He discovered that the ardent zeal and warmth of Peter's attachment would induce him boldly to suffer death in his Master's cause, although the denial of that Master loudly proclaimed him a faithless coward. He could point out the perfidious Judas, fostered by the eleven disciples as a bosom friend. He could detect the hypocrisy and deceit that lay hid beneath the fair profession of the Scribes and Pharisees; he knew their public conduct was not in unison with the hidden man of the heart. He was not blinded by the semblance of virtue; nothing false passed with him for genuine; he instantly discovered the counterfeit, however well executed. Nor did the sterling pass by unknown to him, though its exterior was defaced and unattractive. He could look into the inmost recesses of the human heart, and discover there the seat of iniquity, he could behold the monster in his den, however ingeniously its exterior was adorned by art, and bring to light the hidden things of darkness. In his opinions there was no error; in his censures, no unjust severity--he always judged righteous judgment; "for he judged not after the sight of his eyes, neither reproved after the hearing of his ears." With righteousness did he "judge the poor, and reprove with equity for the meek of the earth; righteousness was the girdle of his loins, and faithfulness the girdle of his reins;" and why? "Because my thoughts are not as your thoughts, neither are my ways as your ways, saith the Lord of Hosts." CHAPTER XXVII. Then the eyes of the blind shall be opened, and the ears of the deaf shall be unstopped.--Isaiah xxxv. 5. Is it not highly proper, that those who profess to be intrusted with offices of authority, should be able to exhibit the credentials of their appointment, in order to be accredited? The prophet Isaiah was commissioned to proclaim many of the marks by which the Messiah should be distinguished. Amongst other signs "the eyes of the blind were to be opened, and the ears of the deaf unstopped." Jesus of Nazareth not only declared himself to be that long-promised Messiah, but constantly exhibited, in the most public and open manner, the credentials of his high official character, and confirmed his claim to our belief by his numerous miracles. Could we inquire of Bartimeus, who, of old, sat by Israel's way-side begging, who was the skilful oculist that restored to his long sightless eyeballs the power of vision; joyfully would he point to Jesus the Son of David, as the gracious benefactor whose almighty word had again caused him to behold the gladsome light of day. Might we hold converse with him who had never beheld the cheerful face of man, whose eyes had rolled in gloom and darkness, deprived of the sight of nature's beauteous works; no doubt he would, with the same undaunted courage he displayed before the Jewish Pharisees, declare that Jesus of Nazareth had opened the eyes of one born blind. Nor were these the only recipients of his Divine bounty. By his almighty voice the deaf were made to hear: the 'ephphatha' of Jesus could "clear the obstructed paths of sound, and bid new music charm the unfolded ear," for it was the voice of one whose biddings were enablings. When the disciples of John came to inquire of Jesus if he were the illustrious personage so long promised, or if they were to look for another, we are told, "in the same hour Jesus cured many of their infirmities and plagues, and of evil spirits, and unto many that were blind he gave sight," and requested the disciples of John "to return, and tell the things which they had seen and heard;" how that "the blind saw, the lame walked, the lepers were cleansed, the deaf heard, the dead were raised, and to the poor the gospel was preached." To one so well instructed, as we may presume John to have been in the writings of the Old Testament, he could not wish for more satisfactory evidence to prove that Jesus was the Messiah. John bore witness unto the truth, but Jesus "had greater witness than that of John, the works which the Father had given him to finish, the same works which he did, bore witness of him that the Father had sent him." That Jesus wrought miracles his enemies could not deny; but how absurd they should attribute them to satanic influence. The Devil is not wont to be a benefactor to our race; we should not expect to find him lending his power to destroy his own kingdom, or to benefit the children of men. The miracles of Jesus were not an useless display of power, wrought to gratify idle curiosity, or for sordid or ambitious motives; they were all designed to promote some honourable or useful purpose, and were of the most benevolent character, not unworthy the incarnate Deity whose pity for his creatures is commensurate with his power. His miracles were numerous and diversified; they were wrought openly, and proclaimed publicly; not confined to one place: Jesus went about healing all manner of sickness and disease among the people. The disciples were not the only witnesses to these extraordinary events. Jesus was surrounded by great multitudes when he healed the leper. Jairus's daughter was raised to life in the presence of her friends and the mourners. The Pharisees beheld the devil cast out of the dumb man--the whole congregation in the synagogue witnessed the instantaneous cure of the withered hand--four thousand, and five thousand men not only beheld the miraculous increase of twelve loaves and a few small fishes, but their bodies were refreshed by the plentiful repast. All the people of Gennesaret sent to collect the diseased, so convinced were they of the wondrous cures effected by a touch of the hem of his garment. When in Galilee, great multitudes came unto Jesus, bringing the lame, blind, dumb, and maimed, and he healed them all. When the poor father's lunatic son was cured, multitudes witnessed the fact. Jesus was surrounded by crowds when he gave sight to the two blind men. The Chief Priest and Scribes saw the wonderful things he did in the temple--driving out the merchants, and healing the lame and blind. In the synagogue he cast out an unclean spirit. When the widow of Nain's son was raised from the dead, much people of the city were with her. The lawyers and Pharisees watched Jesus when he cured the man of the dropsy. Many Jews were present when he called Lazarus from the grave. Jesus was surrounded by his persecutors when he healed the ear of Malchus. The enemies of Jesus witnessed his miracles; they possessed every opportunity that incredulity itself could desire, of examining the several objects on whom he had displayed his omnipotent power: this circumstance, together with the diversity of time and place, precluded all possibility of deception. Peter boldly declared to the "men of Judah, and the inhabitants of Jerusalem," that "Jesus of Nazareth was a man approved of God among them, by miracles and wonders and signs which God did by him, in the midst of them, as they themselves also knew." The intrepid disciple feared no contradiction, it was a fact too clearly established for any of that age to deny; and what madness is it for any in a later period to cavil against a truth they possess not a single fact to disprove. The more minutely the New Testament of our Lord Jesus Christ is examined, the clearer do its marks of divine authenticity appear. The exalted character of the Man of Nazareth requires only to be known to ensure admiration. Who, that attentively considers the sketch given of that model of all perfection, can imagine the history of the Evangelist to be only a cunningly devised fable? The schools of philosophy, with all their boasted learning and virtue, could not conceive any thing half so refined, or so far exalted above the most elevated of the human race. From whence, then, did the beloved physician, the tax-gatherer, and the two fishermen, obtain that beautiful model of holiness, presented to us in their writings? They must have copied from life--they must have witnessed the living character--those unlearned Jews could not have invented so correct a likeness of incarnate Deity. Even if they had taken the united virtues of the most eminent saints in the Old Testament for their pattern, it would not bear a comparison with the artless grandeur and majestic simplicity discoverable in this history of the life of Jesus of Nazareth; which, it should be remembered, was written at a time when the religion of the Jews was little more than superstition; for the law of God was made void by the absurd tradition of the fathers.[57] Yet no trait of false Judaism is discoverable in the character of Christ. In short, the history of the four evangelists is the very reverse of what might reasonably be expected from ignorant men, who had strongly imbibed their nation's bigotry and superstition. The gospels carry their own evidence, and prove the men who wrote them not only had the example of Jesus for their guide, but that they were divinely inspired.[58] They have mixed up none of their own corrupt notions or false ideas, but presented us with a book which is not unfitting the God of Truth to acknowledge as his own. [57] Mark vii. 9. 13. [58] 2 Tim. iii. 16. CHAPTER XXVIII. Then shall the lame man leap as an hart, and the tongue of the dumb sing: for in the wilderness shall waters break out, and streams in the desert.--Isaiah xxxv. 6. Blessed Jesus, we behold thee surrounded by the diseased and wretched. We see thee attend that seat of misery, the pool of Bethesda, whose cloisters oft resounded the plaintive voice of sorrow; for within its porches were assembled many of the sons and daughters of affliction. Amidst the group was one, who, for thirty-eight long years, had sighed over his poor enfeebled limbs, and who oft had heard the joyful sound of Bethesda's agitated waters. But, alas! this Angel of Mercy brought no healing balm for his diseased limbs. Oft had he seen a companion in misery hastily rush into the troubled pool; and beheld their diseased bodies healed by one plunge into those sacred waters. Yet his slow, though anxious steps, never reached its brink, until some happier object had possessed its healing properties. His case attracted the kind attention of Jesus, to whom, when questioned, he tells his tale of wo. But hark! a voice is heard, "Arise, take up thy bed, and walk." The astonished cripple no longer needs the friendly crutch, but treads with ease and joy his gladsome path. Yes, beneath the porches of Bethesda's pool, the Godhead of Jesus darts forth its clear and splendid rays. Well might the fame of this wondrous Physician spread, and multitudes of the afflicted press to share his favours. Behold, amidst the numbers who throng his door, a poor paralytic cripple, borne by four. Every effort to force a passage through the dense crowd is fruitless. Faith does not easily relinquish its subject, and the roof is even bared to admit this subject of misery into the immediate presence of the Healer of diseases. Nor were their efforts unsuccessful. One word from him does more than the united skill of all earth's physicians; and he, who, a few moments before, required a couch to support his palsied frame, is now seen forcing his passage through the astonished multitude, triumphantly carrying his own bed. Surely "it was never so seen before," even "in Israel," that land so famed for miracles. Jesus not only wrought miracles himself, but when he sent forth his disciples to preach the everlasting Gospel, he gave them authority to work miracles, in order to prove their commission to be from Heaven. We behold these fishermen of Galilee, in the name[59] of their divine Lord and Master, Jesus of Nazareth, healing all manner of sicknesses, diseases, and infirmities; testifying both to the friends and enemies of the crucified Jesus, that God was with them, indeed and of a truth, so mightily did the word of the Lord prosper. The blessings of the Messiah's reign are frequently exhibited to our view under the simile of water. Jehovah promises, "when the poor and needy seek water, and there is none, and their tongue faileth for thirst, I the Lord will hear them, I the God of Israel will not forsake them; but will open rivers in high places, and fountains in the midst of the valleys." He will make the wilderness a pool of water, and the dry land springs of water. Rivers of water in a thirsty wild, are not more acceptable to the fainting traveller, than the salvation of Jesus is welcome to the convinced sinner; to such who believe he is precious. The conditions of obtaining it are inscribed by the finger of God; we behold them written in legible characters: "Ho, every one that thirsteth, come ye to the waters, and he that hath no money, come ye, buy, and eat; yea, come, buy wine and milk without money and without price." Ezekiel, in vision, beheld this holy water issuing from the temple of God. Its sovereign efficacy was such, that whithersoever it flowed, healing and life attended its course. John in the Apocalypse, describes it as the "pure river of water of life, clear as crystal, proceeding out of the throne of God and of the Lamb;" its banks adorned with continual fruitfulness, and never-fading verdure. The salvation of Jesus is also described as a "fountain which is opened to the house of David, and the inhabitants of Jerusalem, for sin and uncleanness." May _we_ know its purifying and refreshing qualities: may _we_ drink deep of the living waters, which are "a well of water springing up unto everlasting life." Jesus himself personally invites "all that are athirst, to come unto him and drink." [59] Acts iii. 6. This fountain of life, is not of recent discovery; the antedeluvian world beheld it as a small rivulet, which continued to increase as it flowed down the patriarchal age, widened under the Mosaic dispensation, and became broader and clearer, as it warbled along the prophetic course, and now displays itself as the grand and majestic fountain of living waters, whose streams make glad the city of our God. CHAPTER XXIX. Then said I, Lo, I come: in the volume of the book it is written of me, I delight to do thy will, O my God: yea, thy law is within my heart.--Psalm xl. 7, 8. The psalm from which these words are selected, was written by David, king of Israel, but never can they with justice be applied to him. We dare not venture to imagine he acted agreeably to the will of his God, in the matter of Uriah the Hittite; nor was the law of his God ruling in his heart, when his pride led him to number the children of Israel. But let us no longer dwell on the crimes and failings of this (in one sense of the word) great man; let us endeavour to discover some other, to whom it can, with more justice, be applied. But, alas! if we search to earth's remotest bounds, we cannot find, on this our globe, one to whom it may be applied without deserving the charge of flattery. If permitted to extend our search to the upper and brighter world, and allowed to inquire of the inhabitants of those realms of bliss, if they had ever known one of Adam's race, when sojourning here below, of whom it could with truth be said, his delight was to do the will of his God, yea that the law of his God was the constant ruling principle of his heart;[60] struck at our want of discernment, they would exclaim with holy indignation, was He so long an inhabitant of your world, and do ye not know him? Have ye not read of his life, of his acts, of his words, and ways; but above all, have ye not heard the oft told tale of his death? Do ye now need to be reminded that the words are a true description of the man ye call Jesus of Nazareth? Yes, angels know him, and glory in their knowledge; with joy would they tell us, that, with all their opportunities of observing his conduct, they could never discover in him the least imperfection or tendency to sin.[61] Yes, it is Jesus the son of David, and not David the son of Jesse; who is here speaking, as other parts of the psalm clearly prove. He alone could say, without presumption, "I delight to do thy will, O my God: yea thy law is within my heart." Jesus came from heaven to earth, to do the will of his Father who sent him; even to accomplish the work of redemption, which is as much the will and pleasure of the Father, as it is the delight of the Son. His zeal was discoverable at twelve years of age, when he was found in the temple, and, to the gentle reproof of Mary, answered, "Wist ye not that I must be about my Father's business;" which he preferred before the refreshments of the body; yea, his meat was to do the will of him that sent him, and to finish the work. What devotedness marked his life! days of toil in travelling and preaching were often succeeded by whole nights spent in prayer: the returning sun found him again employed with the same unwearied diligence in the work he had undertaken. We should do well to bear in mind, that all Jesus did was voluntary. There was nothing, but his love to God and man, which led him to engage in the work. There was no compulsion, no obligation, it was entirely an act of his own free will; nor did he enter on the covenant, ignorant of the difficulties and sufferings connected with the work. He was well acquainted with their nature, and extent; he had counted the cost and weighed the price; and with a clear view of the immense load of sufferings before him, did he, with cheerful promptitude, go forth to the work. We cannot have a more striking exhibition of his zeal, than in the reply he made to Peter; Jesus had been warning his disciples of the circumstances of the death which awaited him; but Peter could not bear the idea of his beloved Master's exposing himself to so much suffering, and in the warmth of his attachment, he exclaimed, "Be it far from thee, Lord: this shall not be unto thee:" But Jesus said unto Peter, "Get thee behind me, Satan: thou art an offence unto me; for thou savourest not the things that be of God, but those that be of men." Is this the language of the man, who, when he was reviled, reviled not again, and when persecuted, he blessed? Can this be the answer of the meek and lowly Jesus to a beloved follower, who only spoke with an intention to prevent his Lord from suffering? Yes, it is; but Peter was little aware of the momentous consequences connected with that death. The advice he gave would, if followed, have been a more dire calamity than the world had ever known, yea, even worse than the ruin brought upon our race, when our first parents followed the counsel of that false reasoner Satan. Jesus, well aware of the immense benefits resulting from his expiatory death,[62] would not allow even a beloved disciple to use one argument against his voluntary sufferings. How different the conduct of Jesus, when Peter denied him! there was no reproof, no upbraidings; but all was love and pity for the weeping servant, to whom, after his resurrection, he gave many kind tokens of his forgiveness. We are told, when the time approached that Jesus should be offered up, he steadfastly set his face to go up to Jerusalem, well known as the destined place of his sorrows. We hear him saying, "I have a baptism to be baptized with, and how am I straitened until it be accomplished." When Judas was about to betray him, Jesus said, "what thou doest do quickly." His delight to do the will of his God, was most conspicuous when the band of armed men came to apprehend him, in the garden. He did not attempt to flee, or endeavour to conceal himself from their pursuit. He did not shrink from the danger even when so near; for it is said, Jesus knowing all things that should come upon him, went forth to meet them; and said, "whom seek ye," and when told Jesus of Nazareth, he said, "I am _he_." There was no evasion, no reluctance, but he cheerfully and freely delivered himself into their hands, and met with promptitude the adversaries he had to encounter. When Peter, indignant at the insults offered his Master, and anxious for his rescue, drew his sword in the garden, and wounded the High Priest's servant, Jesus mildly reproved him, adding, "the cup which my Father hath given me, shall I not drink it?" Jesus could have commanded twelve legions of angels to his rescue, yet he allowed himself to be bound, scourged, and crucified as a malefactor. Not all the powers of earth and hell combined, could have destroyed the body of Jesus, had he not given himself up a voluntary sacrifice.[63] He had power to lay down his life, but no man had power to take it from him. The human nature of Jesus, when united to his divine person, became in a manner omnipotent: unless he had freely consented, he could not have been made the subject of their cruelty, but for that "cause came he into this world." The active and passive obedience of Jesus has reflected more honour upon God, than the unsinning obedience of men and angels could have done to all eternity. The free and voluntary nature of that obedience adds a beauty and lustre to the whole. "Then said I, lo, I come: in the volume of the book it is written of me." Moses wrote of Christ: the whole of the Old Testament (if we except some of the prophetical parts which relate to the then kingdoms of the earth,) have a reference to the person, work, or church of Christ. The ceremonies, institutions, and many of the characters, of the Old Testament, are shadows, types, and figures of Jesus the Messiah. Even the preceptive parts are not exempt. The great apostle of the Gentiles speaking of the law, says it is a "schoolmaster, to bring us to Christ." When from comparing our heart and conduct by the perfect standard of God's law, we discover our short comings, the law thus becomes a teacher, and shows us the necessity of an interest in the salvation of Jesus. He could truly say, "I delight to do thy will, O my God: yea, thy law is within my heart: How I love thy law, it is my meditation all the day;" in fact, the law, which is holy, just, and true, is merely a transcript of his divine mind. [60] Psalm xiv. 1. Eccles. vii. 20. Rom. iii. 12. [61] John xiv. 30. [62] John xiv. 5. [63] John x. 18. CHAPTER XXX. I am become a stranger unto my brethren, and an alien unto my mother's children.--Psalm lxix. 8. Ah, my Lord, I know this to be thy voice of lamentation, at the unfeeling conduct of those, from whom thou oughtest to have received the kindest attentions. Thou wast as "a stranger unto thy brethren, and as an alien unto thy mother's children;" "for even thy brethren, and the house of thy father, even they dealt treacherously with thee." They cried "depart hence, and go into Judea, that thy disciples also may see the works that thou doest, for there is no man that doest any thing in secret, and he himself seeketh to be known openly. If thou do these things, show thyself to the world." "For neither did his brethren believe in him." No sooner did he show himself unto the world, and multitudes thronged to behold his miracles, but they cry, thou art beside thyself. From his chosen friends, the disciples, he also experienced much unkindness and ingratitude. During his unparalleled agony in the Garden, instead of endeavouring to mitigate, and sooth his sorrows, they slept, as if careless of his woes. He marked their conduct, and exclaimed, "What! could ye not watch with me one hour?" In the time of danger, "all the disciples forsook him and fled." When in Pilate's hall, and surrounded by men who thirsted for his blood, Peter, with oaths and curses, thrice denied his Lord and Master, who heard, and cast a look of reproof, mingled with love, towards his faithless disciple. Blessed Jesus, how few of the tender charities of life were exercised towards thee, though thy heart, cast in nature's purest mould, was not insensible to the kindlier feelings of that nature. Jesus particularly testified his affection towards John, that beloved disciple, who laid in his bosom. He also discovered the tenderness of his regard towards the three highly favoured subjects of his friendship at Bethany. The sight of the sorrowing sisters at the tomb of their only and dearly beloved brother, his friend Lazarus, excited the tenderest sympathies of his soul, and drew tears from the eyes, and groans from the heart of Jesus. "Behold how he loved him," exclaimed the by-standers. Let us not think it beneath the dignity of the eternal Son of God, to have shared in the sorrows of such a scene; rather let us rejoice, that we have an High Priest, "who can be touched with the feeling of our infirmities, and that in all our afflictions he was afflicted." Was not this event recorded to encourage us to present all our cares and trials before him. The cry, "Lord, he whom thou lovest is sick;" will not, cannot, be unnoticed by him who wept at the grave of Lazarus; for, though he has changed his place, he has not changed his nature. As Man, he can still sympathise with his people in all their sorrows and afflictions. As God, he is ever able to extend his all-powerful arm, and give the wished-for aid. CHAPTER XXXI. They also that seek after my life lay snares for me; and they that seek my hurt speak mischievous things, and imagine deceits all the day long.--Psalm xxxviii. 12. Where shall we find the person to whom these words are so applicable, as to Jesus. From the manger to the cross, he was constantly encircled by men who were plotting his destruction. If we trace the line from Herod, the Tetrarch of Galilee, to Pilate, the Governor of Judea, we find that the enemies of Jesus were neither few nor weak. We see marshalled against him, kings, priests, and governors; Pharisees, Scribes, and Sadducees; the learned and the wealthy; the noble and the peasant; the Jewish nation and the Roman soldiery. No scheme that malice, iniquity, or falsehood could devise or suggest, was suffered to escape; all were pressed into their service, and made to bear against him. Every stratagem was resorted to, that they might entangle him in his discourse, to form an excuse for seizing his person. At one time, the Herodians are sent with the question, "Is it lawful to give tribute to Cæsar, or not?" and though they preface their inquiry with "Master, we know that thou art true, and carest for no man, for thou regardest not the person of men, but teachest the way of God in truth," yet he discovered their hypocrisy; and who but must admire the Godlike wisdom that sparkles in his bold reply? We next behold the Pharisees approach with cautious step and flattering tongue, to ask his opinion of the laws enacted by Moses for divorcement. On the other side, the Sadducees appear to present their queries touching the resurrection of the dead. However artfully their plans were laid, they could not surprise or deceive Infinite Wisdom. Their next scheme is to present before him a woman guilty of adultery, hoping, from the known kindness of his character, that he would pronounce her pardon, and then they could accuse him as a violator of the commands of their great lawgiver, Moses, who ordered all persons guilty of such offences to be stoned to death; but he, who knew what was in man, could foil his adversaries, whilst he pardoned the trembling penitent. "Let him that is without sin, first cast a stone at her," sent home to their conscience, proved the wisdom and Almighty power of him with whom they were contending. Yet still his enemies spake against him, and they that laid wait for his soul, took counsel together. CHAPTER XXXII. For I have heard the slander of many; fear was on every side; while they took counsel together against me, they devised to take away my life.--Psalm xxxi. 13. It is not infrequent that the envious and the profligate are found speaking in terms of reproach of characters whose public and domestic conduct are a beautiful portrait of all that is honourable, amiable, and truly worthy of commendation. Yet persons will never be wanting who can truly appreciate and highly esteem the fair edifice of moral excellence, and bestow the just tribute of respect it deserves. It is possible for men to be so far deceived by personal prejudice, or swayed by the false opinions of others, that they not only view with indifference, but even treat with contempt and scorn, persons, to whom the Searcher of hearts will one day say, "Well done, good and faithful servant, enter thou into the joy of thy Lord." Examples of these facts are not wanting, but we no where behold so striking an illustration of this truth as in the reception the Holy Jesus met with from the men amongst whom he tabernacled. It must be confessed, that in the most perfect of the human race there are defects and blemishes, to which even the eye of friendship cannot be blind, yet in Jesus there was a freedom from all evil either in principle or practice. He could be weighed "in the balance of the sanctuary," and not found wanting either to God or man. His actions, when measured by the just standard of God's law, are pronounced perfect. Yet he, who was purity itself, was not exempt from slander, but was called a gluttonous man, and a wine bibber; a friend of publicans and sinners, an hypocrite, a man of sedition and strife, a Sabbath breaker, and a violator of all the laws of Moses. In scorn, they say, this fellow, and that deceiver, thou art a Samaritan; a race of men held by the Jews in the most sovereign contempt and hatred. By some, he is accused of disloyal and traitorous conduct toward the rulers of Jewry; others pronounced him guilty of blasphemy; and, to crown the whole, they declare him to be a devil; yea, Belzebub, the chief of devils. Blessed Jesus, thou didst, indeed, hear the slander of many. Every action was viewed through a false medium. Thy acts of mercy became an occasion of offence, and called forth the hatred of these self-deceived men, and thy whole conduct was vilified and spoken of in the harshest terms of disapprobation and scorn. Yet those ancient slanderers and persecutors of Jesus, were not without their fears. At one time, lest, from his growing popularity, the Romans should take away their place and nation; at another time, the purity of his doctrine becomes the source of disquietude. They all secretly dreaded his power. Fear was on every side, while they took counsel and devised to take away the life of Jesus. Pilate's wife could not forbear expressing her fears; and Pilate himself illy concealed the perturbation of his troubled conscience. How insufficient was water to cleanse the polluted hands of that wretched governor, so deeply stained with the blood of an innocent victim, sacrificed to his tame compliance; and, to seal his awful doom, he soon after impiously dared imbrue his hands in his own blood, and rush uncalled into the presence of his offended Judge. How tremendous the situation of Pilate when standing before the Judge of all the earth, even _that_ Jesus, he had unjustly condemned and crucified. How different the scene from that when Jesus appeared as the despised Nazarene in Pilate's hall. The mind shudders at contemplating the awful fate of those who dare to lift their puny arms in rebellion against Zion's King, and the language of whose hearts till death is, "we will not have this man to reign over us." CHAPTER XXXIII. Is it nothing to you, all ye that pass by? behold, and see if there be any sorrow like unto my sorrow, which is done unto me, wherewith the Lord hath afflicted me in the days of his fierce anger.--Lamentation i. 12. These words are in some degree applicable to the mournful prophet Jeremiah, but it will do no violence to consider them as referring to Jesus, and to him they apply with tenfold force. Let us not pass him by unnoticed, but let us "behold, and see if there be any sorrow like unto his sorrow," who, by way of distinction, is called "the Man of Sorrows." We see Jesus, attended by three of his disciples, enter the garden of Gethsemane; we behold him withdraw from them about a stone's-throw, and, kneeling down, pour out his soul in prayer to God. Let us draw nigh to witness the scene, but let us approach with awe and reverence, for methinks we are about to tread on hallowed ground. Let the frame of our minds be solemn and attentive, whilst we view a scene so mysterious and sublime. We observe Jesus on his knees, begin to be sore amazed and very heavy: yea, his soul is exceeding sorrowful, even unto death; and in the bitterness of his spirit, we hear him cry out, "Father, if thou be willing, remove this cup from me; nevertheless, not my will, but thine, be done." Being in an agony, he prays the more earnestly. Thrice we hear him present the same petition. His agony becomes so extreme, that he sweats great drops of blood, and so profusely, that it even falls upon the ground. Struck at a sight so mysterious and solemn, we turn towards the disciples for an explanation; but lo, they are fallen into a deep sleep, although requested by their Master to watch and pray. Desirous to ascertain the cause, we survey the wondrous scene, but find no external marks of punishment. True, the sufferings of the cross he viewed as near, but they were not yet commenced; nor can we discover any one afflicting him. The only visible object we perceive is an angel from heaven; but his was an errand of love, for he strengthened him. It is therefore quite clear, that it was from sorrow of soul, and not pains of body, Jesus then suffered. We eagerly inquire what powers could have had such influence over him, as to occasion so great anguish of spirit? We are told, the powers of heaven and hell;[64] and we immediately request to be informed, why the holy, harmless, and undefiled Jesus, is thus the object of God's displeasure, and the sport of Satan. We are directed to consult the records of truth for an explanation of the scene. We examine, and find that Jesus had voluntarily come forth, and offered himself as the surety of his people, having placed himself in their room, and the curses of the law taken hold upon him, his soul endured all the horrors of the tremendous load of our guilt imputed to him. Would you behold the awful consequences of sin; then go, visit Gethsemane, and see Jesus prostrate in the garden. Mark the extreme anguish of his spirit. What language is sufficiently strong to express the agonies of his soul in that awful hour, when the conflict of his mind forced through all the pores of his sacred body a bloody sweat; not merely a drop or two, but so copiously as to fall upon the ground, and that in the open air, in a night of such extreme cold, that, in the crowded hall of the High Priest's palace, the servants found it necessary to make a fire to warm themselves. We may well tremble and stand amazed at a sight so awful and mysterious as the soul-agonies of the God-Man Christ Jesus. "Is it nothing to you, all ye that pass by? Behold, and see if there be any sorrow like unto his sorrow, which was done unto him, wherewith the Lord afflicted him in the day of his fierce anger." Yes, the hand of Jehovah was in it, he then stood up to punish the sins of his people, in the person of their surety. It was also the hour and power of darkness, and Satan then poured forth all his malice, and exerted all his fury, to worry and destroy this Lamb of God; although Jesus declared, the prince of this world had nothing in him, (_i. e._) no corrupt principles or evil passions as materials on which to work; yet was the soul of Jesus assaulted by all the malicious artifices of hell. It is more than probable, that the great adversary overpowered the three disciples with drowsiness, and caused them to fall into a deep sleep, in order to keep every source of creature-comfort from Jesus during this season of conflict and sorrow. In the garden of Eden, did Satan gain his first triumph over apostate man; but in Gethsemane's garden, did Jesus, as the representative and surety of man, give that decisive overthrow to the power of sin and Satan, which shook to its centre the throne of that arch-fiend. [64] Luke xxii. 53. CHAPTER XXXIV. Yea, mine own familiar friend, in whom I trusted, which did eat of my bread, hath lifted up his heel against me.--Psalm xli. 9. And I said unto them, if ye think good, give me my price; and if not, forbear. So they weighed for my price, thirty pieces of silver. And the Lord said unto me, cast it unto the potter: a goodly price that I was prized at of them. And I took the thirty pieces of silver, and cast them to the potter in the House of the Lord.--Zechariah xi. 12, 13. Surely every one acquainted with the history of Jesus, as connected with that of Judas, must acknowledge these remarkable verses to be prophetical of the traitorous conduct of that betrayer of Christ. They describe the base deeds of one of his followers. It was his own familiar friend, which did eat of his bread, that lifted up his heel against him. It was not an open enemy that did him this dishonour; it was one with whom, for near three years and a half, he had daily intercourse; during which period he had constant opportunities of witnessing the miracles of Jesus. He heard his divine discourses, he saw him display his power, and, in common with the other disciples, did he receive the kindest treatment from his Master, to whose person Judas publicly professed himself faithfully attached: yea, "he was numbered with the apostles, and obtained a part in their ministry;" but such was his hypocrisy, that the disciples were not conscious of his real character. To his care they intrusted the slender stock of money--Judas kept the bag. Though under the mask of friendship he artfully concealed his perfidious spirit from the eye of man, yet he could not deceive his Lord and Master. Jesus well knew, amongst the twelve whom he had chosen to be his apostles, one was a devil.[65] He knew this serpent, fostered in his bosom, would betray him. Yet we behold the meek and lowly Jesus condescending to wash those feet which were so shortly to run on an errand of the basest ingratitude. Judas was unmoved by this act of unparalleled humility; no kindness could soften his heart, by sin made hard as adamant; for it appears he instantly arose and, though night (a time best suited for such deeds of darkness), went to the Chief Priests, and said unto them, if ye think good, give me my price; so they weighed him thirty pieces of silver. For that paltry sum did this perfidious monster sell his Lord and Master, and engage to deliver him into the hands of his bitterest enemies; and then, to conceal his base and treacherous conduct, he mingled with his Master's family, and even dared to partake with them, not only of the paschal feast, but of the Lord's Supper, which was instituted immediately after the celebration of the feast of the passover. So callous was the wretch to every feeling of remorse and pity, that he could, unmoved and unrelentingly, even receive from the hands of the innocent victim of his treachery, the symbols of the Lord's bruised body, and blood-shedding. When Jesus mildly declared that one of them would betray him, the faithful disciples, filled with astonishment and grief at the bare intimation of such an act of perfidy, each eagerly exclaimed, "Lord, is it I? is it I?" The hardened Judas could join in the cry, and with all the effrontery of a child of satan, appeal for a confirmation of his innocence; but Jesus knew his treachery, though hid beneath the garb of friendship. Alas, wretched Judas! how little didst thou enjoy thy ill-gotten wealth! Thou hadst scarcely grasped the price of blood, ere thou didst cast it from thee; before even the victim of thy treachery was crucified, thou didst cut short thy race on earth, and madly rush on the thick bosses of Jehovah's buckler; thou didst terminate thy wretched course of sin here, to enter on thine awful state of everlasting wo. Matthew the Evangelist informs us that Judas hung himself, but in the Acts of the Apostles we read, that he fell head-long, and all his bowels gushed out. These seeming contradictions are easily reconciled, if we suppose, which is not improbable, that he fell from the place whence he hung himself; and thus a double mark of infamy was affixed to his body. What a remarkable fulfilment of prophecy, in the purchase of Aceldama, that potter's field of blood. Indeed, these verses of Zechariah look more like the descriptions of a contemporary, than the predictions of one who lived at least five hundred and eighty years before the events narrated actually took place. [65] John vi. 70. By the Mosaic law, if a servant was goaded by an ox, the owner of the ox was to pay the master of that servant thirty pieces of silver:[66] and for that trifling sum it was the blessed Jesus was basely sold; he, whose price is far above rubies, and to whom all the good things thou canst desire are not to be compared. But, while we detest the treachery of Judas, let us be careful that we do not commit the like act. Let us not salute Jesus with the kiss of profession, while we are secretly in league with his worst enemy, sin: which, of old, nailed Jesus to the cross. No wounds are considered by him so severe, as those wherewith he is wounded in the house of his friends.[67] [66] Exodus xxi. 34. [67] Psalm lv. 12. CHAPTER XXXV. When the wicked, even mine enemies and my foes, came upon me to eat up my flesh, they stumbled and fell.--Psalm xxvii. 2. The Psalm from which this verse is selected, was written by David king of Israel, when under the teachings of the Holy Spirit. David unquestionably proved himself a mighty man of valour; and by the help of his God did he overcome troops of foes; indeed, as a warrior, he is surpassed by none. But still these words are not strictly applicable to David; though he slew many by the sword; yet we never hear that any of his unwounded enemies fell before him: and we find but one solitary instance on record, of a body of armed men falling to the ground, only on a single word spoken by their adversary. The instance to which we allude, was an event which occurred in the garden of Gethsemane, when a company of men went to apprehend Jesus. We find a band of Roman soldiers, armed as for war, (sent by the Chief Priest,) attended by their officers, and a large concourse of persons, who were also provided with weapons, lanterns, and torches, that they might secure Jesus, whom we see coming forth to meet them, unarmed, and accompanied only by the disciples. With all the dignity of conscious innocence, we hear him inquiring whom they seek; when told, Jesus of Nazareth, he mildly answered, _I am_;[68] but instead of instantly seizing their prey, they go backwards, and fall prostrate on the ground. Is this the conduct of Roman warriors? What was it which so soon relaxed the nerves, and damped the bravery of a soldiery, famed for their discipline and valour? It was not threats nor menaces; it was not promises nor bribes; nor was it the sight of a company more numerous than themselves. It was none of those causes which usually paralyze the exertions of soldiers. Surely then there was an almighty power accompanying the word spoken, for we find all this dismay and consternation was occasioned only at the simple word of Jesus. Then was that prophecy of Isaiah accomplished, who, when speaking of the Branch out of Jesse's Root, said, "He should smite the earth with the Rod of his mouth, and with the breath of his lips should he slay the wicked." Truly they had cause for dismay; for they were contending with none other than the glorious personage, the Great I AM, who appeared to Moses at the bush; and the same power which smote them to the earth, could, if he had pleased, deprive them of life. Surely this must be acknowledged to be one of the greatest miracles performed by Jesus in the days of his flesh, as it was produced by apparently the slightest exertion of his power. [68] _I am._ The reader will observe the word _He_ is written in italics, to denote that it was not in the original, but added by the translators. CHAPTER XXXVI. Why do the heathen rage, and the people imagine a vain thing? The kings of the earth set themselves, and the rulers take counsel together, against the Lord, and against his anointed.--Psalm ii. 1, 2. The whole of this Psalm is descriptive of the Messiah, and we are not destitute of strong proofs to warrant our applying it to Jesus. We find persons of different denominations and rank in society, even kings, priests, scribes and pharisees, Jews and Gentiles, in league to persecute and destroy an innocent individual. Of the Jews we see Caiaphas the High Priest, at the head of the Sanhedrim, from day to day in consultation on the best and most effectual methods to secure and destroy the victim of their displeasure. Of the Gentile party are Herod and Pilate, deputy kings or governors under Cæsar, assisted by the Roman soldiers, seconding and consenting to the plans of the Jewish rulers and people. We see these men forget their national and personal animosities, to join in the scheme. Yea Herod and Pilate, although at enmity before, on this occasion lay aside their resentments, become friends, and act in unison. But why "do these heathens rage, and against whom do these kings of the earth set themselves," and wherefore all this consultation and contrivance? Is it to secure a powerful tyrant, the scourge of an oppressed nation? Is it to subdue an usurper who has arisen to trample on and overthrow the existing authorities of the state; or is it to bring to justice a wretch who has violated her laws, and by his crimes and enormities become the dread and fear of his race? No--but it is against the meek and lowly Jesus, who had never refused to pay tribute to whom tribute was due, who had never attempted to establish a kingdom amongst the princes of the earth; but when solicited to do so, had ever checked the proposition, as his kingdom was not of this world; he could challenge his bitterest enemies to prove against him any violation of the laws, either of Moses or Cæsar; nor did Jesus attempt to escape from them, but was daily to be found either in the temple, or about the city or its suburbs, attended by a handful of unarmed followers. There is one circumstance which deserves particular attention, as it tends to show the extreme warmth and rage of his persecutors. The night Jesus was apprehended, was the very night the Jews celebrated the passover: after which ordinance, the whole of the people were forbidden to go abroad, or leave their houses until the morning.[69] But so eager were these infuriated people to accomplish their plans, that in opposition to this Jewish command, they go out to seize Jesus, whom they take to the palace of the High Priest, where the scribes and the elders of the people also assemble, to contrive measures to get Jesus crucified. It appears more than probable that they sat in council the whole night, as we leave them late in the evening thus employed, and very early in the morning we find them still engaged on the same subject. So soon as it is day, they lead Jesus to the hall of Pilate. "But why do the heathen rage, and the people imagine a vain thing? Against whom do the kings of the earth set themselves, and the rulers take counsel together?" How sad their mistake, if they imagined they were only planning the destruction of a poor Jewish carpenter's son, when, in fact, their schemes were against the Lord, and against his anointed. It was not from any lack of evidence, that they denied Jesus to be the Christ of God. The language he used on another occasion, is strictly applicable to them, and to all those who do not acknowledge Jesus as the God Messiah. "Many good works have I showed you from the Father; for which of those works do you stone me? if I do not the works of my Father, believe me not; but if I do, though ye believe not me, believe the works, that ye may know and believe that the Father is in me, and I in him." The plea of ignorance when the means of better information are in our power, will only increase our condemnation. We may all peruse the Holy Scriptures, which are able to make us wise unto salvation through faith which is in Christ Jesus, for "all scripture is given by inspiration of God, and is profitable for doctrine, for reproof, for correction, for instruction in righteousness that the man of God may be perfect, thoroughly furnished unto all good works." [69] Exodus xii. 22. CHAPTER XXXVII. False witnesses did rise up: they laid to my charge things that I knew not.--Psalm xxxv. 11. Where shall we find one more unjustly accused, than Jesus. They falsely declare him to be a blasphemer and seducer of the people. His enemies, in order to give an appearance of justice to their proceedings, (for they were determined to destroy him) proceeded to call witnesses against him; a mock trial ensues before Caiaphas the High Priest; but, though the witnesses are perjured, their testimony agrees not together. They indeed _accuse_ him of having threatened to destroy their temple and build it again in three days; but they can _prove_ nothing. It is true, that Jesus, when speaking of his death and resurrection, said, destroy _this_ temple, and after three days I will raise it up again. But this he spake of his body, of which their temple was a type.[70] It was the honoured spot, in which the Lord met with and blessed his people, and the body of Jesus was honoured as the dwelling place or temple of the Lord of Glory. God did indeed dwell in an house of clay which, agreeably to his own prediction, was laid low, even to the ground, and, after three days, he raised it up again, without human aid or art. These words are made the subject of their accusation; but, the charge is so childish and ridiculous, that it deserves to be treated with contempt. It is a little extraordinary, that they did not bring against him the prophecy he had delivered of the utter ruin which, before that generation should have passed away, he had declared the Romans would bring upon their devoted city and temple. But they cautiously refrain from speaking on that subject, and proceed to accuse him of blasphemy, but here again they can prove nothing. Caiaphas artfully enough, adjures the condemned, by the living God, to tell him plainly, if he were the Christ, the Son of God. To which question Jesus replies, by boldly declaring his Godhead,[71] and saying, that hereafter they should see him coming in the clouds of Heaven, as their Judge. The High Priest then rent his mantle, and they pronounced him worthy of death. By the law of Moses, persons guilty of blasphemy, were to be stoned to death. The Jews being a conquered people, had not the power to inflict so severe a punishment, they, therefore, take Jesus before the Roman Governor, and vehemently accuse him of perverting the nation, forbidding to give tribute to Cæsar, saying, that, he himself was Christ a King, and that he stirred up the people, beginning from Galilee to Jerusalem. But how false and unjust the accusation. Cæsar, throughout his vast dominions, had not a more honourable or obedient subject, nor one who by example or precept, better taught the true interest of the king and nation. He, indeed, preached from Galilee to Jerusalem, but not with words of sedition and strife, for he stirred up the people to practise such a refined and exalted system of ethics, that those of the far-famed heathen moralists sink into insignificance and contempt, when their sentiments are compared with the doctrines of morality as taught by Jesus and his Apostles.--"Love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you, and pray for them which despitefully use you and persecute you, and whatsoever ye would that men should do unto you, do ye even so to them." He taught the people throughout all Jewry, to "render unto Cæsar the things that are Cæsar's, and unto God the things that are God's." He even wrought a miracle to furnish the means of paying his own and disciples' tribute money. But we cannot find an instance of his working a miracle to supply his own necessities, although so poor that he had not where to lay his head. He ever taught the Jewish nation and his Apostles, and through them the world, to render unto all men their due, whether of tribute, custom, or honour. He enjoined them to submit themselves to the Powers that be, and, to obey the laws of their Sovereigns and civil Magistrates so far as they might be in unison with the commands of God. Although he spoke so freely of the duties of the subject, he treated the great ones of the earth as men accountable to God, for the talents entrusted to their charge. His Apostles, taught by their divine Lord and Master, neither flattered the vices, nor courted the favours of kings or nobles, for they were no sycophants. Although the doctrine of Jesus was so pure and Godlike, and his life displayed every virtue, (for in his spirit there was no guile) and, is the only one amongst Adam's race, who was free from sin, yet against him was the tongue of the slanderer busy, and calumny dared to raise her voice. Yea "false witnesses did rise up and lay to his charge things that he knew not." [70] John ii. 19-21. [71] Col. ii. 9. CHAPTER XXXVIII. But I, as a deaf man, heard not; and I was as a dumb man that openeth not his mouth. Thus, I was as a man that heareth not, and in whose mouth are no reproofs. Psalm xxxviii. 13, 14. Does not the perusal of these words lead the mind back to the palace of Caiaphas, and the hall of Pilate, when Jesus appeared there, surrounded by his blood-thirsty persecutors, who, in the bitterness of their malice, vehemently and unjustly accuse him of crimes his soul abhorred. But, the meek and lowly Jesus heard their falsehoods with silent composure. Their calumnies aroused no angry passions in his spotless soul. Though conscious of the injustice of their proceedings, he made no remonstrance. Even Pilate marvelled at his silence, and exclaimed, hearest thou not how many things these witness against thee? But Jesus answered not a word. He was "as a deaf man who heard not, or as one that is dumb so he opened not his mouth." Yet his silence was not the effect of sullenness, and, though innocent of crimes alleged against him, he deigned not to vindicate his character, nor did his noble spirit stoop to load with reproach even his bitterest enemies. "Though reviled, he reviled not again; in his mouth there were no reproofs." Jesus, aware of the situation in which he stood as the sinner's surety, looked beyond the bar of Pilate, to the Tribunal of God's Justice: for though no sin was _in_ him, yet, by imputation, he was loaded _with_ sin.[72] Though he was unjustly condemned to death by the Roman Governor, he viewed the sentence gone forth against him in the Court of Heaven, and, seeing the hand of the Lord in this matter, he was dumb, and opened not his mouth, "because thou, O God, didst it." This is discovered in the reply he made to Pilate's imperious question, "Knowest thou not, that I have power to crucify thee, and have power to release thee?" Jesus answered, "thou couldest have no power at all against me, except it were given thee from above." Although innocent of the crimes preferred against him, at Pilate's bar, yet, Jesus knew that he stood charged before God, with the imputed mass of his people's sins for which he had made himself responsible. Is it not to this, we must attribute the otherwise extraordinary silence Jesus manifested at the injustice of Pilate's sentence? [72] Isaiah liii. 6. CHAPTER XXXIX. My lovers and my friends stand aloof from my sore, and my kinsmen stand afar off.--Psalm xxxviii. 11. How forcible and just the remark of the wisest of men, "that every man is a friend to him that giveth gifts." But, in the day of adversity, how few are treated with kindness and attention by their former acquaintance and professed friends. At one time we see five thousand, and at another four thousand persons, partaking of the bounty of Jesus. Afterwards we behold a multitude following him; but, he who knew their motives declared it was "for the sake of the loaves and fishes." When he was so actively engaged in healing the sick and diseased, from all parts they crowd around, and call him Lord and Master; but, no sooner does the black cloud of adversity lower over the head of this Benefactor of our race, than the cringing throng depart; even his immediate disciples, who had shared his friendship, forsook him, and fled at the very first appearance of danger. So precipitate were they that they stayed not to inquire or consider if mischief was likely to befal them, by their adherence to their Master. Only anxious for their own safety, they leave him alone and unprotected, to struggle with dangers and difficulties. But one disciple is found in the hall of Judgment, and even he, with oaths and curses, denies any knowledge of the despised Nazarene. But, were none found to espouse his cause? Did not the recipients of his bounty appear for his rescue? Were not those tongues whose powers of articulation Jesus had restored, heard to plead for mercy? Did not those eyes he had blessed with vision, with tears supplicate compassion for their benefactor? Were not those withered arms he had healed, upraised to shield from insult the giver of their strength? Did not those he had delivered from the power of the grave, boldly shed their hearts' blood to rescue, from the arm of cruelty and oppression, the restorer of their life? No! Silent as the grave was every tongue in his defence; no advocate was heard to plead his cause; no friendly arm was outstretched to succour or support the oppressed Saviour; "Lover and friends stood aloof from his sore, and his kinsmen stood afar off." CHAPTER XL. I gave my back to the smiters, and my cheeks to them that plucked off the hair; I hid not my face from shame and spitting.--Isaiah l. 6. For the fulfilment of this prophecy, we have only to go back to the hall Prætorium, where we behold the blessed Jesus surrounded by a band of Roman soldiers, who treat him with every species of indignity. Not content with having scourged him, (a punishment considered too ignoble to be inflicted on a free born Roman)[73] they proceed to insult his Kingly Office. The purple robe, the reedy sceptre, the crown of thorns, the bended knee, and the salutation, "Hail, King of the Jews," are all used in mockery. What cruelty, mixed with insult, was here; had sport only been intended, a crown of reeds had sufficed. But no, it must be a crown of thorns, and that not gently placed on his head, but its sharp points were forcibly struck in. His Prophetical Office is next profaned, by blindfolding and smiting him on the face, crying, prophesy who it was that smote thee. They even dare to spit in his face, which by every people is considered the greatest indignity that can be offered, but especially so by the Jewish nation, amongst whom, if a father did but spit in his daughter's face, she was treated as unclean seven days.[74] The Romans were accustomed to present a civic crown, composed of oak leaves, to him who had saved the life of a fellow citizen, but when Jesus literally laid down his life to save from everlasting death a countless multitude, whom no man can number, of the citizens of earth, no such civic honours were awarded him. When our first parents apostatized from God, the earth was cursed for their sake, and made to bring forth briars and thorns, but Jesus only, of Adam's race, was ever crowned with thorns. What a spectacle for the angels of light to witness! The God of glory insulted and mocked by worms of the earth! To behold that sacred face, before which they were wont to bow with adoration and love, covered with shame and spitting. But the season of sorrow and of suffering is now past, and Jesus, the Son of the Most High, is receiving the just reward of his sufferings and humiliation.[75] That head, torn and lacerated by the rugged thorn, is now adorned with many crowns, and that face, once obscured by shame and spitting, now shines with refulgent brightness. [73] Romans xvi. 37. [74] Numbers xii. 14. [75] Isaiah xl. 10. CHAPTER XLI. He is despised and rejected of men; a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief; and we hid, as it were, our faces from him; he was despised, and we esteemed him not.--Isaiah liii. 3. Thus saith the Lord, the Redeemer of Israel, and his Holy One, to him whom man despiseth, to him whom the nation abhorreth, to a servant of rulers, Kings shall see and arise, princes also shall worship, because of the Lord that is faithful, and the Holy One of Israel, and he shall choose thee.--Isaiah xlix. 7. Here again, we are called upon, to behold Jesus, exposed to shame, reproach, and sorrow. "He was in the world, and the world was made by him, yet the world knew him not." "He came unto his own, and his own received him not." Though his visit was an errand of mercy, yet he was treated as the offscouring of all things. "He was despised and rejected of men, himself a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief; and we hid, as it were, our faces from him; he was despised, and we esteemed him not." "Away with him; crucify him," was the public cry. And to Pilate's question, whether of the twain will ye that I release unto you, Barabbas or Jesus? they all, as with one voice, instantly exclaim, "not this man, but Barabbas." Thus, he who had been cast into prison for sedition and murder, was released, and Jesus rejected. Yet it was "Jehovah's Holy One, the Redeemer of Israel, the Mighty God of Jacob, whom man despised, whom the nation abhorred, who was as a servant to Rulers." We may shudder at the indignities offered to the Son of God when he tabernacled on earth, and the thought may cross the mind, had I been present, I would not have joined in opposing and insulting the meek and lowly Jesus. Good, my friend, but allow me affectionately to remind you, that if you are still at enmity to God by wicked works; if you have not submitted your heart unreservedly to the Lord, nor accepted his free offers of pardon and reconciliation, through the blood and righteousness of Jesus; if you are not simply resting by faith on the vicarious sacrifice of Christ, as the only propitiation for sin, and trusting solely to his perfect, yet imputed, righteousness, as the ground of your acceptance with God, you are, to all intents and purposes, acting the like part, or even worse, than did the ancient rejecters of Jesus, for you despise and reject the Redeemer of Israel, amidst the full blaze of gospel light. "If he that despised Moses' law, died without mercy, of how much sorer punishment, suppose ye, shall he be thought worthy, who hath trodden under foot the Son of God, and hath counted the blood of the covenant, wherewith he was sanctified, an unholy thing, and hath done despite unto the Spirit of grace?" We know him that hath said, "Vengeance belongeth unto me; I will recompense, saith the Lord."[76] [76] Heb. x. 28-30. But let us not forsake our own mercies, nor longer despise and reject the Christ of God, nor lightly esteem that salvation, to purchase which, he was content to suffer ignominy and sorrow. Let us bow with humility and reverence "before the Redeemer of Israel." Let us bend the willing knee in adoration and gratitude before Jehovah's Holy One, of whom thus saith the Lord, "Kings shall see and arise; Princes also shall worship before him; the Gentiles shall come to his light, and Kings to the brightness of his rising." "Nations, the learned and the rude," shall bow before the Mighty One of Jacob, fall prostrate to his all conquering grace, and call the Redeemer blessed. CHAPTER XLII. But I am a worm, and no man; a reproach of men, and despised of the people.--Psalm xxii. 6. Do we not here instantly recognise the language of the despised Nazarene? And is not the whole Psalm a striking description of his unparalleled sufferings, of his unprecedented degradation and humility? He whose will formed the universal law of nature; he who marshalled the stars, and called them all by name; who bid the planets roll, and the sun to shine; who gave the orb of day his splendid rays, and lent the moon her silvery light; he whose word the congregated waters of the ocean felt and owned, when he said, "hitherto shalt thou come, but no further, and here shall thy proud waves be stayed"--he who shared the throne of Deity,[77] and received the adorations of glorified saints, of Cherubim and Seraphim, and before whose footstool even Gabriel bowed and worshipped.[78] He whose right it was to reign in Heaven, condescended to visit this, his distant kingdom, and tabernacle here for a season in the garb of humanity. Surely, if the Lord of Heaven and Earth deigned, for great and wise purposes, to enter this lower world, it was undoubtedly his just right to have appeared in all the majesty and splendour becoming his rank, and thus to have displayed himself as the glorious God. Was it not a condescension in the second person of the glorious Trinity to assume the character and office of Mediator? But, how unspeakably great his condescension in taking our nature into union with his Divine Person, even if it had always retained the splendours exhibited to the three disciples on the mount of transfiguration. Is there not just reason to believe the human nature to which Deity was united, as far exceeded in its native powers and faculties the rest of mankind[79]; as that the intellectual powers of the justly celebrated Newton exceeded the mental capacities of an idiot? We behold the God-man, Christ Jesus, voluntarily waiving his just claim to glory, and appearing, as the Prophet described, "without form or comeliness;" for in the eyes of those who saw him "there was no beauty that they should desire him." He was exposed to every species of scorn and contempt, his name a reproach, himself an outcast, the sport and ridicule of the Jewish nation. We discover Jesus, as the surety of man, cheerfully lay aside for a season all his visible and personal glory[80], to recompense the injury God's manifested glory had sustained by the creature's sin. And as Adam the creature, sinned in aspiring to be as God[81], so Christ, the Son of God, in making restitution, condescended to assume the creature. The satisfaction of Jesus did not consist merely in his obedience and sufferings, but also in his abasement and humiliation. He emptied himself, as it were, of all personal glory[82] to honour God, who, in the person of God the Father, covenanted to maintain and demand the honour and dignity due to Godhead.[83] The apostasy and disobedience of man had reflected dishonour on God, therefore Jesus submitted to shame and reproach, and to have his personal glory debased to make reparation. The lower he humbled himself, the greater honour did he reflect upon God, and the greater was the display of his love to man. When we consider the character of him with whom it is no "robbery to be equal with God," and contrast the true dignity of his person, with his appearance and reception on earth, we are overwhelmed at the extent of his zeal for his Father's honour, and his love for the fallen race of Adam, which prompted him to descend from the heights of glory and blessedness to take the lowest rank, and most humbled situation[84], in society, to raise and exalt his enemies to a participation and share in the glories of his Heavenly Kingdom. Surely "this was compassion like a God." [77] Psalm cx. 1. Zech. xiii. 7. [78] Heb. i. 6. [79] John vii. 46. [80] John xvii. 5. [81] Gen. iii. 5. [82] Phil. ii. 7. [83] Matt. v. 18. [84] Luke xxii. 27. CHAPTER XLIII. He was oppressed, and he was afflicted, yet he opened not his mouth: he is brought as a lamb to the slaughter, and as a sheep before her shearers is dumb, so he opened not his mouth.--Isaiah liii. 7. It is scarcely possible not to see that it is Jesus who is here held forth to our view. Who so oppressed and afflicted as he? Who so patient under insult and tyrannical cruelty? Who so silent under the voice of calumny? What lamb so patient under the hand of the destroyer? He did not resist, he did not oppose; yea, he did not even attempt to vindicate his conduct; but, with meekness, gentleness, and cheerfulness did he hear, bear, and suffer, all that malice could devise, or cruelty inflict. Although he bore their unjust treatment without murmuring, yet his was not the tame submission of one insensible of wrong, or incapable of resistance.[85] [85] Matthew xxvi. 53. Under the law, the lamb intended as a sacrifice was first taken to the door of the tabernacle, that the priest might have any opportunity to discover if it was free from blemish;[86] and Jesus the Lamb of God was not offered as a sacrifice without being first brought bound before the High Priest. But he, blinded by prejudice and passion, neglected to perform this part of his office. Yet this spotless lamb was not led forth for slaughter, before his purity had been attested; and, though the Priest refused to do it, Herod and Pilate gave their testimony to the fact, that in him they could find no fault. He was perfectly free from spot or blemish. He alone is the Lamb whose sacrifice can benefit either Jew or Gentile. It would be easy to shew, that all other sacrifices were but typical of this Lamb, viewed as slain from the foundation of the world; but, as it is more connected with type than prophecy, it would be improper here. [86] Leviticus ix. 3. 5. CHAPTER XLIV. He was taken from prison and from judgment: and who shall declare his generation? for he was cut off out of the land of the living, for the transgression of my people was he stricken.--Isaiah liii. 8. Here the Prophet presents us with another sketch, which so exactly corresponds with many features in the sufferings of Jesus, that we cannot well mistake, if we consider him as the person intended. What supinness do we behold in the cause of truth, how faint are the exertions to promote the Glory of God, to whom are we indebted for all spiritual and temporal blessings. Surely, the disciples of Christ, in every age, must blush to compare their want of zeal for their Master's Glory, with the ardour and unwearied perseverance displayed by the adversaries of the Lord. What exertion and determination of purpose, is discoverable in the persecutors of Jesus. If they cannot accomplish their object in one way, they attempt it in another. If Annas or Caiaphas have not the power (Judea being under the Roman yoke) to execute Jesus, his enemies, nothing daunted, try Pilate and Herod, from whose tribunal, the innocent sufferer is again conveyed back to the Judgment Hall of Pilate, and eventually to Calvary. Thus was the blessed Jesus led bound by his insulting persecutors, from place to place, and compelled to walk many a wearisome mile, surrounded by an incensed rabble, who thirsted for his blood. He was, indeed, taken from prison and from judgment, but, who shall declare his generation. We may trace his journeys and count the number of his years on earth; but, we cannot name the period of time, when he first began his existence; for he existed as God, from everlasting to everlasting.[87] We hear the Jews saying "As for this fellow, we know not whence he is." As man, we see him cut off out of the land of the living. And the Prophets and Apostles, all join in stating, that it was "for the transgressions of his people, he was stricken." They again and again repeat the same sentiment. We are not left with a solitary proof or two, on a subject of so much importance; but it is written as with a sunbeam, throughout the whole canon of scripture. We should never view the sufferings of Jesus, but in connexion with the precious truth, that it was "for the transgression of his people he was stricken." [87] Romans xix. 5. Hebrews xiii. 8. CHAPTER XLV. For dogs have compassed me; the assembly of the wicked have enclosed me; they have pierced my hands and my feet.--Psalm xxii. 16. We cannot with any degree of consistency, apply these words to David. It is true he was often surrounded by foes, and encompassed by adversaries; but, never were his sorrows and sufferings of the kind here described. By the spirit of Prophecy, he spoke of the sufferings of Jesus, and to him alone can we with truth apply these words, or indeed, the whole Psalm. We see Jesus surrounded by men, who, for their ungovernable rage, are not unaptly compared to dogs; and the assemblies before whom he was brought, proved by their conduct towards him, that they were unjust Rulers. What they called the Hall of Judgment, was, in this case, the seat of injustice and oppression. On every side, did the assemblies of the wicked enclose him; yea, they crucified him, by which act they pierced his hands and his feet. Crucifixion was not a Jewish punishment, but one used by the Romans, and they considered it so disgraceful that it was not allowed to be executed on a Roman, however heinous his crimes. It was only slaves, and persons belonging to the conquered territories of the Roman Government, who were sentenced to a death alike ignominious,[88] painful, and lingering. It was shameful, as the condemned always suffered naked; it was extremely painful, for they placed the sufferer on the cross when on the ground, the feet and outstretched arms, were then nailed to the wood, which being upraised, and one end fixed in a hole in the ground, the sudden jirk occasioned the most excruciating pains to the whole body. And when we consider that the nails were driven through the palms of the hands, and the soles of the feet, the most nervous parts of the body, the mind sickens at the thought, and is unwilling to dwell longer on so distressing an object; humanity sends forth a wish that death may speedily relieve the sufferer. But, as no wound is inflicted on any part of the body absolutely necessary to existence, the unfortunate sufferer often lingers many an hour in this extreme agony, before the powers of nature are exhausted and death closes the scene. [88] Hebrews xii. 2. This is but a faint outline of the sufferings of crucifixion, to which the Priests and Rulers sentenced the blessed Jesus, whom we see going forth to the place of execution, carrying his own cross, and fainting beneath the load. His unfeeling persecutors, fearing, lest he should expire by the road, and thus disappoint them in their cruel design, lay hold of a Cyrenian, named Simon, whom they compel to bear the cross to Calvary, a spot, rendered sacred to memory by the sufferings of Jesus, who humbled himself unto death, even the death of the cross. Yes, he who could command a legion of angels to his rescue, here submitted to a painful and ignominious death. Do we hear the Prophet inquire "Wherefore art thou red in thine apparel, and thy garments like him that treadeth the wine-vat?" Jesus replies, I have trodden the wine-press alone; and of the people there was none with me; and "I looked and there was none to help; and I wondered that there was none to uphold: therefore, mine own arm brought salvation." Whenever we look to the cross of Jesus, we should eye him as "the surety of his people," as the "just suffering for the unjust, to bring sinners unto God." It was for them he wept, bled, groaned, agonized, and died. But while Christ crucified is to the "Jews a stumbling block, and unto the Greeks foolishness, it is unto them that are called, both Jews and Gentiles, Christ the power of God, and the wisdom of God." Jesus, that he might sanctify the people with his own blood, "suffered without the gate." "Let us therefore go forth unto him without the camp, bearing his reproach." Jesus suffered a painful, shameful, and ignominious death, to deliver his people from the bitter pains of eternal death. His crucifixion is the procuring cause of their salvation; for he died that they might live. Ought we not to admire and adore the wisdom of our God, who could cause such invaluable good to spring out of what, distinctly considered, was an act of such injustice and cruelty. We see the persecutors of Jesus full of fury and indignation, executing their cruelties on the innocent object of their abhorrence. But, at the same time, we discover, that by their instrumentality, the designs of God are accomplished. Not that their crime is in the least degree lessened. No, the hatred, malice, envy, injustice, rage, and cruelty, was all their own act and deed, and the sin and guilt, consequent on the foul transgression, is with justice laid to their charge. The moral evil of the act, is in nowise diminished by the Lord's overruling it to accomplish his purposes and making it minister to his glory. He can make "the wrath of man praise him, but the remainder of that wrath he will restrain." CHAPTER XLVI. My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me? Why art thou so far from helping me, and from the words of my roaring?--Psalm xxii. 1. If we would know whose language this is, we must by faith ascend the hill of Calvary; there, taking our stand at the foot of the cross of Jesus, we hear him utter the dolorous cry, "My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me." We do not find a word of complaint of the pains and sufferings of his mangled body escape his lips. They are borne in patient silence, the cruelties inflicted by the puny arm of flesh, cannot extort a groan or a murmur from the holy sufferer. This mournful exclamation, was not occasioned by the agonies of his body. He was not incapable of feeling them in their highest extent, (for his human nature was left to its infirmities, that he might fully suffer) but he was so entirely swallowed up with the weight of his Father's wrath; that it overwhelmed the sense of bodily pain. Here again we are constrained to eye Jesus in the character of a surety. He had become a surety for rebel man, and he truly smarted for it. He felt the awful extent of the tremendous debt he had engaged to cancel, he found the wrath of God "as an overwhelming flood," as "deep waters in which there was no standing." At that soul-appalling season, the phials of divine vengeance were poured out, and he drank of the cup of trembling from the hand of the Lord; not a sip merely, but he drank of it to the very dregs. He felt by bitter experience that God's wrath is a consuming fire; for by it, his "heart was melted like wax, in the midst of his body." The sorrows of his soul, were occasioned by the sins of the world imputed to, and charged upon, him, and for which he then endured the wrath of God. Yes, in the six hours Jesus hung upon the cross, he had to struggle with the sorrows of death and with the fierce anger of God; he was forsaken by his Father, and suffered his divine wrath, which indeed constitutes the tremendous curse. If the thought should arise in the mind, how that Infinite Being who is emphatically described as a God of Love, could find in his heart to use such severity toward him, whom he styles "his only-begotten, well-beloved Son, he in whom the Father is always well pleased," it should be remembered, that God sustains two relations towards Christ; the love of a Father to him as a Son, and the claim of a Judge toward him as a surety. Although God never expressed so much anger toward Christ,[89] as when he hung upon the cross, yet in fact, he was never so well pleased with him as then.[90] Yea, he was more pleased with him, than he had been displeased by all the sins that creatures have committed or can commit. It is true, mercy is God's delight, but justice is his sceptre, whereby he rules, governs, and judges the world. His attribute of wisdom, gives to both their fullest demonstration and accomplishment. The plan of reconciliation, the scheme of redemption, by Jesus; is God's masterpiece: in which all his attributes meet, and harmonise.[91] If we would know the abhorrence God bears toward sin, then we must look at the cross of Jesus. There it is God has exhibited the greatest manifestation of his hatred toward it, by his treatment of him who became the sinner's surety. The drowning of the old world, the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah, together with the eternal punishment of the miserable inhabitants of the bottomless pit; never can display God's detestation of sin so forcibly, as the astonishing events which once transpired at Gethsemane and Calvary. If Jesus could not endure to be deprived of the light of God's countenance for a few short hours; then how wretched the state of those who are banished his presence for ever! Jesus well knew the blessedness of God's favour; he could bear with composure, the utmost torments that wanton cruelty could inflict; but he could not behold in silence, the angry countenance of his Father, or endure to be deprived of the refreshing presence of the Lord. Does not this display the love and compassion of our Jesus, in a most endearing point of view, when we behold him voluntarily submitting, not only to corporeal punishment, but also to the curse and wrath of God for us, and for our salvation? [89] Zechariah xiii. 7. [90] John x. 17. [91] Psalm lxxxv. 10. CHAPTER XLVII. Awake, O sword, against my shepherd, and against the man that is my fellow, saith the Lord of hosts: smite the shepherd, and the sheep shall be scattered; and I will turn mine hand upon the little ones.--Zechariah xiii. 7. This verse, at the first reading, may appear involved in difficulty, but a little attention will enable us to discover to whom it refers. We hear a solemn call for a sword to awake. What sword? Surely it can be none other than the sword of divine justice, which had so long delayed to execute the punishment due to the violators of God's righteous law. But against whom is it directed? Against fallen and rebellious man? No, but against "my shepherd, and against the man that is my fellow, saith the Lord of Hosts." The next interesting question which arises, is, Who is this Shepherd? We answer, Jesus. In the Old Testament, the Messiah is often discovered to us, in the character of a shepherd, and in the New, we find every description fully realised in the person of Jesus of Nazareth, who is the true Shepherd of Israel. But why is the sword called upon to awake against him? This may require a little history, but is easily answered from the records of divine truth. Mankind in the person of Adam their federal head, and since, each individual, distinctively, has broken God's righteous law, not only the decalogue delivered to Moses, but the law of nature; man owing all to his bountiful Creator and Preserver, was, in point of common justice, bound to render to his Lord the tribute of his love and gratitude. But who, amongst the human race, can venture to stand forth, and appealing to Omniscience itself, affirm, that he has "loved the Lord his God, with all his mind, with all his soul, and with all his strength; and his neighbour as himself?" No, it is in vain to endeavour to conceal a truth God has declared so publicly; that by "the deeds of the law, no flesh living shall be justified." Man having rendered himself amenable to God's holy law, stands exposed to all its awful consequences. But "be astonished, O heavens, and wonder, O earth," to behold this great, this good shepherd, stand forth as the voluntary surety of his flock, engaging to take all their guilt, and its punishment, upon himself. Thus becoming responsible, for all their mighty debt, having placed himself in their law room, the sword of divine justice was called upon to execute its tremendous punishment, (the punishment due to the whole flock) on the person of their surety shepherd. We would next direct our attention to the words, "The man that is my fellow, saith the Lord of Hosts:" and trace their application to Jesus. For proofs of his humanity, see him a babe at Bethlehem; view him labouring in the occupation of a carpenter; trace the innumerable instances given in the records of the Evangelists, of his humanity; behold him exposed to all the infirmities of our nature; see him enduring hunger, thirst, weariness, reproach, privations, pain, sorrow, and suffering; yes, as man he wept, groaned, bled, agonised, and died. As God, behold him giving sight to the blind, making the deaf to hear, the dumb to speak, and the lame to walk; cleansing the lepers, healing the sick, and all by a word or touch; yea, at his command, the dead again sprang into life, and devils themselves fled, or cried out for mercy at his approach. When he issued his mandate, be it observed, there was no exertion of physical power; and if he ever used outward means, they were such as carried conviction to the mind of every beholder, that the cure was not the effect of their application, but an exercise of his power, who is truly "fellow to the Lord of Hosts." All the essential attributes of God belong to Jesus: mark his omniscience in the instance of Nathaniel,[92] "when thou wast under the fig-tree, I saw thee." See him exercise his omnipotence at the lakes of Tiberias and Gennesaret, in the two miraculous draughts of fish; the one before, the other after his resurrection. In directing the fish to bring the piece of money; in walking on the sea: and the instances also, of his feeding five thousand persons from five loaves, and seven thousand from four loaves and a few small fishes, and it would appear that the fragments left, exceeded the slender stock at the commencement of the repast. Behold his omnipresence in the case of Lazarus, whom he declared to be dead although none brought the tidings. Indeed the instances are numberless, in which the unprejudiced mind may discover the deity of Jesus. It was often manifested in his declaring the thoughts and motives, not only of his immediate disciples, but of many who, under the guise of friendship, were secretly endeavouring to draw from his lips something which might give them a plea for seizing his person. Yes, Jesus discovered himself to be the omniscient, omnipotent, omnipresent, heart-searching God. Although his humanity and deity are so closely united, yet they are easily to be discovered. See the humanity sleeping, but behold the God arising and rebuking the tempestuous winds and sea, which knew his voice and instantly obeyed. Above all, behold his body carried from the cross to the sepulchre, after having paid a debt, which the whole human race, through the countless ages of eternity, were unable to discharge: but it was fully cancelled by the man who is "fellow to the Lord of Hosts," and as such see him bursting the bars of death asunder, and arising, the triumphant Conqueror of death, hell, and the grave. [92] John i. 47-50. The latter clause of this prophecy was fulfilled, when Jesus was seized and hurried before his unjust judges; then the shepherd was smitten, and the sheep scattered, as those who have no keeper; for all his disciples forsook him, and fled. The mighty conflict is now past; for the sword of divine justice, which had long slumbered, awoke; and, guided by the arm of Omnipotence, was dipped in the heart's blood of Israel's chief Shepherd: the man who is "fellow to the Lord of Hosts." CHAPTER XLVIII. They part my garments among them, and cast lots upon my vesture.--Psalm xxii. 18. The circumstances attending the disposal of the garments of the crucified Jesus, are in themselves trifling and insignificant, but when viewed in connexion with this prophecy, it is no longer a matter of little importance. It is equally necessary that the small, as well as the great and conspicuous parts of prophecy should be fulfilled; and it is highly satisfactory to trace, amid the more minute events connected with the life and death of Jesus, so striking a correspondence with the Old Testament prophecies of the Messiah. In fact, if these were wanting, the whole, as an evidence, would be incomplete. How satisfactory is it to find, in this instance, the very raiment of Jesus become a witness for the truth that he is the Messiah. It was not the disciples, or friends of Jesus, who parted his garments among them, and cast lots upon his vesture: but it was the Roman soldiers, who, ignorant of the Jewish prophecies, could not be supposed to have divided the garments among them in that particular way, for the express purpose of fulfilling this prophecy; which might have been imagined, had it been the disciples instead of the soldiers. These men, alike ignorant and unconcerned about the fulfilment of prophecy, could not even be anxious to possess the garments of Jesus from their intrinsic worth; no, it was only the humble dress of a poor jew: nor were they led to attach any particular value to the clothes, from love to its late wearer, for whom they felt neither affection or respect. It is probable they were severally desirous to possess some part of the apparel, that they might exhibit it as a trophy that they shared in the destruction of the King of the Jews. CHAPTER XLIX. They gave me also gall for my meat; and in my thirst they gave me vinegar to drink.--Psalm lxix. 21. It was not unfrequent that cordials or opiates were given the unhappy objects sentenced to crucifixion, to blunt the severity of their agonies, and shorten the period of their sufferings. But, at the crucifixion of Jesus, no friendly hand presented the soothing draught. When faint from loss of blood, and parched by burning fever occasioned by excessive pain, the dying sufferer exclaimed "I thirst;" a sponge is conveyed on a reed to his parched lips; but, alas! it is absorbed in a liquid too nauseous, even for one in his famished state, to drink. Unfeeling wretches! thus to sport with the sufferings of such a distressed object; thus to mock the wishes of one in the last agonies of death! When the son of Jesse, in the cave of Adullam, longed, and said, "O that one would give me to drink of the water of the well of Bethlehem, that is by the gate," three of the mightiest heroes in his valiant little band broke through the opposing ranks of the Philistine's army, to fetch the wished-for draught; but when the Son of God required the refreshment of a little water; when his tongue, from very thirst, clave to the roof of his mouth, and his strength was dried up as a potsherd, he was insulted with a mixture of vinegar and gall. But little did the thoughtless multitudes who surrounded the cross of Jesus imagine, that he was then drinking to the very dregs, the wormwood, and the gall, of Jehovah's wrath, which was far more bitter to his soul, than their offensive present to his taste. He was then redeeming his church from hell, that black abode of wo, whose wretched inhabitants are deprived of a drop of water, to assuage their tormenting thirst: and the horrors of the crucifixion were greatly augmented by the darkness that shrouded the scene, when the meridian sun was enveloped in the gloom of night. Blessed Jesus, though Lord of all, thou wast treated worse than earth's meanest slave. CHAPTER L. With hypocritical mockers in feasts, they gnashed upon me with their teeth.--Psalm xxxv. 16. All they that see me, laugh me to scorn; they shoot out the lip, they shake the head, saying, He trusted on the Lord that he would deliver him: let him deliver him, seeing he delighted in him.--Psalm xxii. 7, 8. This prophecy is so exactly in accordance with the event, that one could readily believe the royal psalmist had stood on Calvary's mount, and literally recorded the insulting taunts and ironical reproaches used by the despisers of the suffering Jesus. The men, their actions, and the time, are exactly described, and even their insulting language noticed, with a minuteness that precludes a possibility of mistake. This disgraceful scene occurred at the passover; at that feast, when Israel was commanded to remember her Lord's mercies, in delivering her from Egyptian bondage; when he slew the strength of Egypt's land, even from the first-born of Pharoah that sat on the throne, to the first-born of the captive in the dungeon. At that solemn festival, did those merciless hypocrites discover (beneath the cloak of pharisaical sanctity) the rancorous enmity they cherished in their hearts towards virtue in its purest, loveliest form. But how void of every spark of magnanimity must be the wretch who can sport with the feelings of one writhing in all the agonies of death. How lost to all the kindlier feelings of our nature, thus to exult over suffering humanity. Surely the Chief Priests and scribes strangely forgot their station and their pride, when they could stoop to join the railing throng, and mingle their voice of mockery and insult with the Jewish rabble. How little did they intend to honour Jesus when they insultingly exclaimed, "he saved others, himself he cannot save." But we admit the fact, and glory in the truth. He indeed had then cured many a dire disease, and released some from the very jaws of death: and in those very hours of sorrow, he was saving "a countless multitude, out of every kindred, and tongue, and people, and nation," who must inevitably have perished for ever, had he not been content to suffer for them. But though he saved others, himself he would not, yea, he could not, save. His honour was pledged in the council of peace; he must fulfil the covenants he had engaged to perform. God is not "a man, that he should lie; neither the son of man, that he should repent:" "hath he said, and shall he not do it?" or "hath he spoken, and shall he not make it good?" "Sing, O ye Heavens, for the Lord hath done it; and shout, ye lower parts of the earth, for the Lord hath redeemed Jacob and glorified himself in Israel." CHAPTER LI. Therefore, will I divide him a portion with the great, and he shall divide the spoil with the strong; because he hath poured out his soul unto death; and he was numbered with the transgressors; and he bare the sin of many, and made intercession for the transgressors.--Isaiah liii. 12. To whom but Jesus can we apply this. Do we not find him reckoned with Barabbas, a traitor and murderer, and were not two thieves crucified with him, on either side one, and Jesus in the midst? Thus we behold him numbered with the transgressors, and bearing the sin of many. All the Prophets, Evangelists, Apostles, Martyrs, with the Church Militant, and the Church Triumphant, proclaim, as with one voice, his death as the expiatory sacrifice, his blood as the propitiation for the sins of his Church, and that he suffered, the just for the unjust, to bring sinners unto God. He died to redeem a countless multitude of the children of earth, who, freed from sin and sorrow, will for ever shout victory, through the blood of the Lamb. This is the great leading doctrine of the everlasting Gospel. This is the sum and substance of the Old and New Testaments. Thanks be unto God, for having given us line upon line, and precept upon precept, on this momentous article of the Christian Faith. We hear the blessed Jesus interceding for transgressors. Even when on the cross he was not unmindful of his priestly office, but amid all his personal sorrows and agonies, he did, as with his dying breath, send in a petition to the Heavenly Court, for the pardon of his murderers: "Father, forgive them; for they know not what they do." This Great High Priest is now sitting at the right hand of the throne of the Majesty in the Heavens, where "He is able to save them to the uttermost who come unto God by him; seeing he ever liveth to make intercession for them." The God-man Christ Jesus, is now exalted to high and distinguished honours, on account of his humiliation and sufferings, and his voluntarily pouring out his soul unto death.[93] He had power to lay down his life, and power to take it again, but no man had power to take it from him. He laid it down of himself. Therefore, God will "Divide him a portion with the great, and he shall divide the spoil with the strong." The Man Jesus, now sits on the throne of Deity, and humanity participates in all the honours paid to the second Person in the Glorious Trinity. As he was openly put to shame on earth, is it not right that he should here also be publicly rewarded? Satan, who so long had reigned prince of this world, is now a conquered tyrant, his empire is weakened, for Jesus has spoiled the principalities and powers of darkness; and he will for one thousand years confine this destroyer of our race, a captive in the bottomless pit.[94] In that bright day of millennial glory, all shall know the Lord, and every tongue shall call our Emmanuel blessed; and he shall reign a triumphant King over earth's remotest bounds. [93] Ephesians i. 20-22. [94] Revelations xx. 2, 3. CHAPTER LII. He keepeth all his bones, not one of them is broken.--Psalm xxxiv. 20. The soldiers (at the request of the Jews, and the command of Pilate) go forth to execute their last act of cruelty on Jesus and his companions, having broken the legs of the two malefactors, they approach the body of Jesus, but here they pause, hesitate, retire, and leave his bones unbroken. Whence this mark of respect, toward the object of their scorn and abhorrence? Why did not those voices, which a few hours before rent the air with cries of "Crucify him, crucify him," now urge the soldiers to commit the same act of violence on the body of the dead, though despised Nazarene. To what cause must we attribute this act of forbearance, on the part of the by-standers as well as soldiers? Surely, to none other than the over-ruling Providence of God. He who has the hearts of all men at his disposal, watched over the body of Jesus, and preserved it from that act of violence, "He kept all his bones, not one of them was broken." How exactly was the prophecy fulfilled! How striking a resemblance does the original bear to the portrait! The Lamb slain at the Passover, was intended to exhibit to ancient Israel a crucified Saviour. Of that typical Lamb, Jehovah expressly commanded, "A bone should not be broken." Though the whole of the flesh was to be consumed, yet not a bone was to be injured.[95] Does not that solemn Jewish sacrifice, point us to Jesus, the "Lamb of God, whose blood is able to cleanse from all sin;"[96] and applied by the Spirit, will "purge the conscience from dead works, to serve the living and true God." [95] Exodus xii. 46. [96] John i. 29. CHAPTER LIII. And they shall look upon me whom they have pierced.--Zechariah xii. 10. One of the soldiers, with a spear, pierced the side of Jesus, and forthwith came thereout blood and water. "He that saw it bare record, and his record is true".[97] And we know that he saith true, that ye might believe, that it is Jesus of whom the scripture saith, they "Shall look on him whom they have pierced." There is another and higher use to be made of this circumstance. Simple as the fact at first sight may appear, yet it is the strongest proof of the death of Jesus. If only blood had issued from the wound, it would prove comparatively little. But, water was also seen to flow from the side; which was either the small quantity of water inclosed in the pericardium, in which the heart swims, or else the cruor was almost coagulated and separated from the serum. If it is to be attributed to the latter cause, it confirms what the evangelist relates; that Jesus had been some time dead. But, if we place it to the former, it is utterly impossible Jesus could have survived the wound, even if given in perfect health. In either case, it effectually proves his death. Not a reasonable doubt can remain to suppose he was taken alive from the cross. May the act of the soldier, (wanton and cruel as it certainly was,) convince the infidel, that Jesus was not taken from the cross before life was quite extinct; and may he be led to look on him "whom he has pierced, and mourn." Blessed Jesus, may we often meditate on those awful scenes, when the rugged thorn pierced thy sacred temples, the nails thy hands and feet, the spear thy side, and the wrath of God thy soul. And, while we eye thee as the just suffering for the unjust, may we learn to abhor sin, which is so hateful in the sight of a pure and Holy God, that the blood of his own well-beloved Son was shed ere it could be pardoned. Is not the view of a suffering Redeemer calculated to raise the Christian's confidence, even in seasons of the deepest affliction?[98] May he not fearlessly resign his spiritual and temporal concerns, his fondest hopes and most anxious cares, to the guidance and wisdom of him, who so loved him as to die for him? For if, when we were enemies, we were reconciled to God by the death of his Son, much more, being reconciled, we shall be saved by his life." [97] John xix. 34, 35. 1 John v. 8. [98] Romans viii. 32. CHAPTER LIV. I clothe the heavens with blackness, and I make sackcloth their covering.--Isaiah l. 3. Isaiah, or, as he is generally called, the Evangelical Prophet, (from his writings referring more frequently to the person and offices of Christ, than those of the other prophets,) when speaking of his sufferings declares, that "The heavens shall become black as sackcloth of hair." This figurative description was realised at the crucifixion of Jesus. The sun at mid-day was eclipsed, darkness covered the land, from the sixth to the ninth hour, which, by our mode of computing time, was from twelve to three o'clock in the afternoon. The Jews begin their day at six o'clock in the morning. Perhaps it may be thought superstitious weakness, to imagine an eclipse portended some great event? We reply, _this_ was not the result of natural causes. It took place on the day the Jews killed the Passover, which festival they were commanded, and always did observe at the full of the moon;[99] therefore, it is evident, the moon's shadow could not _then_ fall on the sun, for then they were in opposition, or one hundred and eighty degrees apart; besides, a total eclipse of the sun never lasts ten minutes, yet, this was a total eclipse from the sixth to the ninth hour, so that darkness covered, at least the whole land of Judea, for three hours, which is contrary to the laws given by heaven's great architect, to these his works. This extraordinary eclipse is noticed in profane history; Dionysius, at Heliopolis, in Egypt, said of this darkness, "Aut Deus naturæ patitur, aut mundi machina dissolvitur."--Either the God of nature is suffering, or the machine of the world tumbling into ruin. It was a supernatural event, and designed to show, that when Jesus stood forth as the surety of his people, he felt all the dread punishment due to them. Man, by his rebellion, has not only forfeited all spiritual blessings; but to temporal mercies also he has no claim. When Jesus, as our Head and Representative, bore the curse due to our sins, he was deprived of the cheering rays of heaven's great luminary, which was but a faint resemblance of the withdrawing of the light of God's countenance.[100] Behold the awful effects of sin, although it was only _sin imputed_ to the Son of God. Yet, the lamp of day withdraws his shining, as if sickening at the sight. Unable to behold the astonishing event, he hides his head, and shrinks back, as if unwilling to shed his beams over a scene so tremendously awful. The event might also be designed to show the darkness of the Mosaic dispensation, which was then for ever to be done away. It was but a shadow of good things to come; but light and immortality are brought to light by the gospel. Jesus, the Son of Righteousness is arisen, with healing in his wings; and darkness, and its attendant superstition, shall flee away as the shadows upon the mountain's brow, on the appearance of the majesty of day in the rosy east. As the sun in the natural world is the source of light and heat, such is Jesus to the spiritual world; he is the Light of Life, and there is not a ray of hope or light to cheer the rugged path of sorrow, but what must emanate from this Fountain of Light; even amidst seasons of health and prosperity, all is darkness and gloom within, unless the soul is enlightened by his all-gladdening beams. [99] Exodus xii. 2. 6. 18. [100] Mark xv. 34. CHAPTER LV. And he made his grave with the wicked, and with the rich in his death; because he hath done no violence, neither was any deceit in his mouth.--Isaiah liii. 9. It is usual, amongst many nations, for the bodies of those who fall by the hand of the public executioner, not only to be denied the rites of burial, but to be exposed to marked contempt. Though Jesus made his grave with the wicked, yet it was also with the rich in his death. Crucified at Golgotha amidst two thieves, he shall receive an honourable burial. All the Evangelists have recorded the circumstances of his interment, and nobly distinguished the name of Joseph of Arimathea, for the marked respect with which he treated the body of the despised Nazarene. Timidity kept him from before publicly acknowledging his attachment to Jesus; yet it is remarked, though a member of the Sanhedrim he consented[101] not to the deed and counsel of those who condemned the Lord of life and glory. Fully aware of the contempt and scorn affixed to the followers of the crucified Jesus, his noble, disinterested spirit now led him resolutely to face it all; to rescue, if possible, the body from further abuse and dishonour. He went boldly unto Pilate, and begged the body. His request is granted, Pilate having ascertained from the centurion, that Jesus had been some time dead. Joseph is now joined by Nicodemus, (who at first came to Jesus by night,) and these two, high in rank and office, the one an honourable counsellor, the other a ruler of the Jews, are busily engaged in paying the last sad tribute of respect to the remains of their dear departed Lord. One having provided an hundred pounds weight of spices to embalm the body after the custom of the Jews, and the other supplying the fine linen, they proceed to deposit the body in the sacred chamber of the tomb. The receptacle of this mighty dead was not the royal mausoleum of Judah's kings, but a new sepulchre, hewn out of a rock, in Joseph of Arimathea's garden. There laid they Jesus, where never man before was laid. No funeral pomp or pageantry of state, that solemn mockery of wo, adorned his funeral procession. Though its attendants were few, yet the tears of affection and love bedewed his mangled body, and the voice of lamentation and sorrow reverberate through this solemn vault of death. How was the mighty fallen! That arm, then motionless in death, ne'er did a deed of violence; that tongue, whose universal law was kindness, was then silent as the grave; and that mouth, in which deceit ne'er found a place, was closed by the iron hand of death. Behold here "an Israelite indeed, in whose spirit was no guile." Surely the grave never before contained such a prisoner. Its triumphs were complete, when Jesus was brought into the dust of death. [101] Luke xxiii. 50, 51. CHAPTER LVI. The days of his youth hast thou shortened: thou hast covered him with shame. Selah.--Psalm lxxxix. 45. Blessed Jesus! we behold thee cut off in the prime of thy days, in the meridian of thy strength, and in the vigour of manhood. Thy body was not worn by disease, nor decrepit by age; but thy bones were full of marrow, and thy bow abode in strength, when, little more than thirty-three years old, thou didst cheerfully resign thy body to the cold arms of death! The periods of the incarnation and crucifixion of Jesus, are very particularly marked by the sacred historians. His birth was in the year that Augustus Cæsar, Emperor of Rome, issued his decree for taxing the Jewish people; after which event, he reigned nearly fifteen years, and was succeeded by Tiberius, his adopted son. It was in the fifteenth year of his reign, that Jesus, who was then about thirty years of age, entered on his public ministry. By the Mosaic law, none were allowed to minister in the priest's office, until thirty, nor after fifty years old.[102] Jesus was not of the tribe of Levi, but Judah; yet, as the priesthood centred in him, it became him, when fulfilling all righteousness, to submit to this Jewish command. From the writings of the Apostle John, we can pretty clearly determine the public ministry of Jesus to have been three years and a half, that Evangelist having marked in the period four Passovers (annual Jewish festivals); one was celebrated not long after the baptism of Jesus, and two others are also recorded before the one at which Jesus was crucified; that memorable one when "the days of his youth were shortened, and he was covered with shame." A noble mind is far more sensible of shame, and feels it more acutely, than the body can any corporeal punishment, however severe. Yet Jesus, who possessed true nobility of spirit, was exposed to shame in all its varied forms. His companions were unlearned fishermen, publicans, and sinners; his character was vilified--he was accused of vices and crimes of the most odious nature, and his very name was a stigma of reproach. At his trial, he endured shameful indignities. The Jewish nation even preferred having a traitor and murderer restored to liberty, rather than Jesus. He was publicly scourged, spit upon, buffeted, and crucified as a malefactor. The only type of his crucifixion was the brazen serpent, and amidst all the irrational creation of God, the serpent only is pronounced accursed.[103] The circumstances attending the crucifixion, were of the most degrading and humiliating nature. Jesus suffered naked--his companions were two thieves. The spot was Golgotha, a place strewed with the unburied sculls of criminals. Nor were these things done in a corner, but at Jerusalem, the chief city of Jewry. The time chosen was the feast of the Passover, when all the Israelitish males[104] were wont to repair to the royal city, and thus became spectators of the shame and dishonour cast upon this despised man of Nazareth, "who for the joy that was set before him, endured the cross, despised the shame, and is for ever set down at the right hand of the Majesty on High." [102] Numbers iv. 3. [103] Gen. iii. 14. John iii. 14. [104] Exod. xxiii. 17. Deut. xvi. 16. CHAPTER LVII. Surely he hath borne our griefs, and carried our sorrows; yet we did esteem him stricken, smitten of God, and afflicted. But he was wounded for our transgressions, he was bruised for our iniquities; the chastisement of our peace was upon him, and with his stripes we are healed. All we like sheep have gone astray; we have turned every one to his own way; and the Lord hath laid on him the iniquity of us all.--Isaiah liii. 4, 5, 6. "I pray thee, of whom did the Prophet speak these words?" was the inquiry of an Eunuch of great authority under Candace, Queen of the Ethiopians, when reading this chapter. Philip replied by beginning at the same scripture, and preaching unto him Jesus. To him alone can we apply the whole chapter. In every part it bears so striking a resemblance, that it appears more like a history written by a contemporary, than the prediction of a Prophet who lived at least seven hundred years before the character described. These verses are more valuable than fine gold--they are the key of knowledge--they open to our view a work of immense wisdom and benefit--they make us acquainted with the counsel and plans of Jehovah.--By them, a circumstance in the moral government of God, which was before dark and mysterious, is now bright and attractive.--They shed a glorious light on the person of Jesus.--By them we understand why he who was "holy, harmless, undefiled, and separate from sinners," was treated with such contempt and cruelty. We no longer see this part of God's moral government, as "through a glass darkly." The veil which is cast around his designs is withdrawn, and the glorious scheme of redemption bursts forth to our astonished senses, sparkling with wisdom, justice, mercy, and love. By them, we are taught that Jesus suffered, not for any sin of his own, but for the sins of his people. The prophet is particular on this point. The life and conduct of Jesus proved him exempt from all the corrupt principles and evil passions of the children of men. He alone is free from imperfection, and his character forms the most perfect model of all that is lovely, amiable, and exalted. In him was no sin, and even the unjust judge who delivered him for crucifixion, was compelled to declare he could find nothing worthy of death against him; no, nor yet Herod, for he had sent Jesus to him. No doubt both Herod and Pilate examined his conduct with eagle-eyes, and gladly would have discovered, if possible, something which might give them a plea for condemning a man who so publicly declared himself the Messiah. The Jews had looked forward to his coming with much pleasure, for they considered he would deliver them from the Roman yoke, under which they then groaned. The slightest shadow of guilt would have been sufficient for the purpose of these partial Governors, and it deserves observation, that Jesus was brought before them on a charge of perverting the nation, and forbidding to give tribute to Cæsar, saying that he was Christ, a King. But they can prove nothing against him, for the more his character is examined, the brighter it shines; and they are compelled to confess, "they can find nothing worthy of death against him." Pilate, from a clear conviction that Jesus was innocent, proposes to release him; but finding that he would draw on himself the malice and hatred of the priests, like a time-serving judge, he gave sentence as they desired, and in the same moment in which he declared he could find no fault in Jesus, did he deliver him over for crucifixion. Yet Pilate could not conceal the horrors of an accusing conscience; sensible of the black injustice of his conduct he took water and washed his hands before the multitude, saying, "I am innocent of the blood of this just person, see ye to it." The people said, "his blood be on us, and on our children." In what court of judicature shall we find such another instance? We believe, in none. Never did any one suffer more unjustly than Jesus, if viewed as a private person; but these verses teach us to look upon him as the sinner's surety. Man, from his original corruption and actual transgression, is justly exposed to the condemnation of the law he has so much dishonoured. "All we like sheep have gone astray, we have forsaken the Lord's ways, and turned every one to his own ways." "We have all done that which we ought not to have done, and have left undone that which we ought to have done, and there is no health in us." We have no just plea why the sentence, "let the wicked be turned into hell, and all the nations who forget God," be not executed on us. We must lay our hand upon our mouth before the tribunal of God, who is an impartial and righteous Judge, for we justly deserve the curses of the broken law to fall on us. The Divine Being (be it spoken with reverence) cannot, without injustice to himself, and dishonour to his law, (which is holy, just, and good,) allow the guilty to go free. Man must suffer the punishment consequent on his offences, or God must lay aside his justice, which is impossible, for it is an attribute essential to his existence. The debtor must suffer, unless some one be found to discharge the debt for him. Die he, or justice must; unless for him Some other able, and as willing, pay The rigid satisfaction, death for death. PARADISE LOST, b. iii. But where shall we find the man who can, by any means, "redeem his brother, or give to God a ransom for his soul?" Nowhere; it is quite impossible for any mere man to deliver his own soul, and much more the soul of another. An angel, or all the mighty hosts of angels, cannot do it; they are the creatures of God's power, and consequently finite; and therefore cannot satisfy the justice of God, which is infinite. The mind of man could never have discovered a proper person. Human intellect is utterly unable to the task; it is incapable of soaring to such a height. But though man cannot find a surety, God has pointed one out, even Jesus, his own well-beloved son, who is the second person in the revealed order of the trinity; with him it is "no robbery to be equal with God;" for he is one with the Father, as touching his Godhead. Yet this great and glorious Personage voluntarily engaged to become the surety of his people; to expiate their guilt by suffering all the punishment due to them for sin.[105] In the fulness of time, this great head of his church left the joys of Heaven, and the praises of adoring saints and angels, to tabernacle on earth. Having veiled his glory beneath the human nature, which he took into union with his divine person, he came forth to accomplish the work he had, from the foundation of the world, covenanted to perform. As the surety, representative, and head of his people, he submitted to endure all the curses of the moral law they had broken. The Lord having accepted him in their place, and laid (by imputation) their iniquities on him, he also on him laid their punishment. Nor was it a mitigated punishment; he bore the whole weight of wo due to them. It is true, he did not go into hell, which was a part of the sentence denounced on guilty man; but he was not exempt from the buffeting of Satan. He was exposed to his malice in the garden; and when on the cross, he might be said to be in Satan's territories; for he is declared to be "the Prince of the power of the air," and having shot forth his most fiery darts, he appears to leave the scene of conflict like a triumphant conqueror, for his adversary is beheld breathless on the field of battle. Jesus needed not to descend into those abodes of wo to feel their sorrows, for he is heard to exclaim, that the pains of hell had got hold upon him. It is not the place, but the extent, and the kind of suffering, which constitutes misery; and Jesus felt it in a much greater degree, than even the miserable inhabitants of that wretched place, where hope never enters. They suffer for themselves as individuals, but he endured the weight of wo for a multitude so great, that no man can number them. Theirs are the sufferings of creatures, his was the sufferings of the infinite Creator; and this it is which gives such value, efficacy, and dignity, to all he did and suffered. His were the actions of one of Adam's race, for it was the children of earth who had rebelled, and whom he came to redeem; but what renders it beneficial to man, is that he is both God and man in one person. This union stamps a value upon his work: Jesus, by the dignity of his person, has made full satisfaction; yea, his sufferings have more than compensated for the indignity offered to God by sin. It has given a greater honour to God's holy law, than could have been done by the unsinning obedience of men and angels through time and eternity, for Jesus perfectly fulfilled all the commands of the moral law, and by that obedience he exalted, and made it honourable, and then suffered the penalty it denounced on the violators of its precepts. All his active and passive obedience was performed as the head of his people, and for their benefit. "Surely he hath borne our griefs, and carried our sorrows: yet we did esteem him stricken, smitten of God, and afflicted. But he was wounded for our transgressions; he was bruised for our iniquities: the chastisement of our peace was upon him, and with his stripes we are healed. All we like sheep have gone astray; we have turned every one to his own way; and the Lord hath laid on him the iniquity of us all." We must look beyond the Roman governors, soldiers, and the Jewish priests and people, to behold sin, as the great cause of all the buffetings, wounds, bruises, pains, and sorrows, of Jesus. This was the fruitful source of all his wo. Would you behold the justice of God? then look at the suffering Jesus, and remember that it was not _his own_, but _imputed_, guilt. Would you know the mercy of God, and see a display of his love to man? then look at Jesus. Let it sink deep into your heart, and may your soul be influenced by the truth, that "God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life." "For God can be just, and yet the justifier of him that believeth in Jesus." "He that believeth in him is not condemned; but he that believeth not, is condemned already; because he hath not believed in the name of the only-begotten Son of God." "For there is none other name under heaven given amongst men, whereby we must be saved." "He that believeth on the Son, hath everlasting life: and he that believeth not the Son, shall not see life; but the wrath of God abideth on him." In the work of redemption by Jesus, we behold "mercy and truth meet together; righteousness and peace kiss each other." [105] John x. 18. CHAPTER LVIII. For thou wilt not leave my soul in Hell, neither wilt thou suffer thine Holy One to see corruption.--Psalm xvi. 9, 10. These words are not applicable to David, for after he had served his generation, he fell asleep, and his body, interred in the royal sepulchre of the kings of Judah, which was in the city of David, saw corruption. The sentence "dust thou art, and unto dust shalt thou return," has, for many a generation, been accomplished on Jesse's Royal Son. The remains of this mighty monarch cannot now be distinguished from those of earth's meanest slave. They are alike mingled in the dust of death, and must remain hid from the eye of man until the archangel's trump shall sound, and the command be given, Arise, ye dead, and come to judgment. The hell (in Hebrew, scheol) here alluded to, cannot be that place of torment, prepared for the devil and his angels, from which a soul never did or will escape. When once consigned to that abode of wo, there is a great gulf fixed, even the unchangeable decree of Omnipotence; a barrier stronger than walls of brass, and cannot be surmounted, or destroyed.[106] The word here rendered hell, (in the Greek, hades,) is the same as the Jews, before the Babylonish captivity, used for the grave, and is the sense in which it must be here understood. This verse is prophetic of the resurrection of the Messiah; which doctrine is taught in many parts of the Old Testament, by type, figure, and prophecy; in the New, we behold it clearly confirmed by the resurrection of Jesus. The circumstances attending this great event are repeatedly described, and the evidence clear and conclusive. The witnesses to this important fact are not few; both enemies and friends unite in giving their testimony to his death and resurrection. The soldiers having taken the dead body of Jesus from the cross, his friends deposit it in the tomb. We cannot but stop here, and admire the overruling hand of Providence in the more minute circumstances connected with the interment of the body of the Redeemer. The sepulchre was hewn out of the solid rock. No access could be gained to it but by one opening, on which a ponderous stone was placed, a seal set thereon, and the entrance strictly guarded by Roman soldiers. But wherefore all this care and attention over the dead body of one crucified at Golgotha? It is by order of the High Priest and Pharisees, who had requested Pilate to allow them to make the grave sure, as Jesus had declared he would rise again after three days. They, fully convinced of his death, and disbelieving his divinity, fear that the disciples should steal the dead body of their Master, and declare that he had risen; and thus the last error would be worse than the first. But we have cause to rejoice that they used so much caution, for it tends to establish the truth, and confirm the testimony, of the disciples. It fully proves the death and burial of Jesus, and that the body did not remain in the grave. On the first day of the week, certain women of the company hasted early to the sepulchre, to embalm, after the custom of the east, the body of their beloved Master; but lo, to their astonishment and grief, it is gone! They indeed see the place where the Lord had lain; for an angel, by an earthquake, had rolled away the stone; at whose appearance the keepers became as dead men; but to the women, filled with sorrow and surprise on not finding the body of their Lord, this heavenly messenger proclaimed the resurrection of that Jesus whom they sought. And as they run to tell the disciples, Jesus himself met them, saying, All hail! and they held him by the feet, and worshipped him. Some of the watch, also, went into the city, and told the Chief Priests all that was done; who, having assembled a council, give large sums of money to the soldiers to say, that the disciples came by night, and stole him away, whilst they slept. This report, though commonly believed amongst the Jews until this day, will not bear examination. The more we consider this tale, the clearer will the fact of the resurrection of Jesus appear. If the body was _indeed_ stolen, why are the soldiers allowed to go unpunished for their neglect, as they say it was stolen whilst they slept. We should not expect to find a Roman sentinel asleep at his post of duty, for their military discipline was the most severe in the world. Even if the soldiers had fallen asleep whilst watching the entrance of the sepulchre, it appears impossible for a number of persons to remove so ponderous a stone without considerable noise and bustle, or to pass among the guards without awaking some of them. But even allowing the body to have been gone whilst they slept, how could they possibly know, that it was the disciples who had taken it? But is it at all probable, that a few timid disciples, who had fled from their Master on his first apprehension, should now dare to go, in the face of a guard of Roman soldiers, justly famed for their courage, and attempt to steal, and much more to carry off, the body! Let it be observed, that though the disciples had hoped Jesus "had been he who would have redeemed Israel;" yet, when they saw him laid in the grave, all their hopes that he was the Messiah fled, for the minds of the disciples were strongly tainted by the Jewish prejudice, that the Messiah's would be a temporal kingdom. Their dreams of earthly splendour now vanished, and they were about to return to their occupations in common life; in fact, some had done so. Is it reasonable to imagine that the others would engage in a plan fraught with danger, for the sake of obtaining the body of one, in whom they began to imagine themselves deceived? Besides, what advantage could they hope to gain by such a scheme? What end was it designed to answer? They could not expect to keep the act concealed; and if discovered, they were fully convinced it would bring upon them the severest punishment. But if, as the soldiers proclaimed, the disciples did steal him away, why are these handful of fishermen allowed to retain possession? Why did not the Chief Priest, at the head of the Jewish Sanhedrim, supported by the Roman authority, instantly compel them to surrender the body? Why are not these men of Galilee brought to a judicial tribunal, examined, and openly punished, that the truth of the soldiers' tale may bear even the _appearance of_ fact? Surely this neglect is most extraordinary in men who had shown such vigilant care over the body when in the tomb. The more we examine the conduct of the parties, the more inconsistent does the Jewish tale appear. It is evident, the disciples were as ignorant as the rest of the nation, as to what the resurrection from the dead should mean. Jesus had again and again preached the doctrine, yet they were at the first as backward as his enemies to believe the fact, and discovered much unbelief on the first tidings of the great event. The incredulity of all of them is a strong presumption, that as they did not expect Jesus to rise from the grave, so neither did they steal the body, and falsely proclaim their Master risen. We have a still further confirmation of the fact from the events that followed. In the interval of forty days, between his resurrection and ascension, Jesus appeared to many of his disciples, and showed himself alive by many infallible proofs; the women who went early to their Lord's sepulchre, were first honoured with the sight of the risen Redeemer. He afterwards appeared to the two sorrowing disciples as they walked to Emmaus, then to the eleven as they sat at meat with the doors closed, and, eight days after, he again appeared to them, when the incredulous Thomas exclaimed, "My Lord and my God!" He also showed himself to the seven disciples who were fishing at the sea of Tiberius; after that, he was seen of above five hundred brethren at once; and, though some had fallen asleep, yet, when the Apostle wrote, the greater part were then alive, and could testify to the truth of these things. How "vain the watch, the stone, the seal!" the grave could not contain the prisoner. Jesus burst the bands of death, and arose the triumphant victor. It was necessary that he, as the Head and Representative of his church, should conquer death and the grave for them. He died "that through death he might destroy him that had the power of death, that is, the devil." He laid in the grave that he might subdue the power of the grave. He, as a surety, became subject unto death as a part of the curse; but, having paid the full ransom, justice demanded his release. Having satisfied the demands of the law, it was right that he should be honourably acquitted. Though "delivered for our offences, he must be raised again for our justification." The resurrection proves his atonement was accepted by God as fully adequate to all the requirements of justice, and declares him to be the Son of God with power. It is by reason of the incapacity of the damned in hell, to take in the full measure of God's wrath due to them for their sins, that their punishment, though it be eternal, yet never satisfies; because they can never endure all as Christ could, and did; theirs is truly less than what Christ underwent; and, therefore, his punishment ought not in justice to be eternal, as theirs, because he could more fully satisfy God's wrath in a few hours than they could to all eternity. By his complete satisfaction, the costly, inestimable price of redemption is paid, and the sinner's surety released from all the claims of the Law and justice. "Christ is risen from the dead, and become the first fruits of them that slept." Do we not hear him exclaim, "Thy dead men shall live together; with my dead body shall they arise. Awake and sing, ye that dwell in the dust." "I will ransom them from the power of the grave; I will redeem them from death. O death, I will be thy plagues; O grave, I will be thy destruction." May we not join in happy chorus, "O death, where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory? The sting of death is sin; and the strength of sin is the law. But, thanks be to God, which giveth us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ." [106] Luke xvi. 26. CHAPTER LIX. Thou hast ascended on high, thou hast led captivity captive; thou hast received gifts for men; yea, for the rebellious also, that the Lord God might dwell amongst them.--Psalm lxviii. 18. We find amid the records of the Old Testament, very distinguished honour was conferred by God on two illustrious personages, whom he was pleased to exempt from the common lot of humanity, and admit into the Celestial City, by a new, and, till then, untrodden path. Their way led not across the dark valley of the shadow of death; they entered Canaan without passing the banks of Jordan's stormy waters. God was pleased to translate the bodies of Enoch and Elijah to heaven, without an execution of the sentence "dust thou art, and unto dust shalt thou return." This was assuredly a high mark of favour; but we are in this verse presented with an event, in comparison with which, the cases of Enoch and Elijah sink into insignificance. It is a description of the return of a great and mighty conqueror, who, surrounded by the trophies of his victories, appears at court to receive the thanks and rewards his services so well deserve. And who is this mighty conqueror? It is Jesus! See him surrounded by the little band of faithful followers, on whom he bestows his parting blessing; having bidden them an affectionate farewell, he, with conscious majesty, mounts the air, and soars beyond the eagle's path, through the vast extent of space. Though he goes forth unattended, it is not long a secret that the victorious Saviour is on his way to the heavenly kingdom; for the myriads of spirits, who are anxiously watching his motions, no sooner observe that he bends his course toward the Celestial City, but they instantly proclaim the joyful news to its inhabitants; who, with holy impatience, are all anxious to fly on the wings of love and adoration to meet and welcome this illustrious Conqueror back to the realms of bliss. Wide are thrown the golden gates, and as they open, ten thousand voices are heard chaunting in chorus; "Lift up your heads, O ye gates; and be ye lift up, ye everlasting doors; and the King of glory shall come in. Who is this King of glory? The Lord, strong and mighty; the Lord, mighty in battle. Lift up your heads, O ye gates; even lift them up, ye everlasting doors; and the King of glory shall come in. Who is this King of glory? The Lord of Hosts, he is the King of glory." Forth from heaven's portals there issued a goodly band, singing as they advance to meet and welcome their victorious King, whom they convey in celestial triumph to the presence of the eternal Father; seated on his throne of glory, he receives, with ineffable delight and joy, this, his only-begotten, always well-beloved, but now still more endeared Son, the Glorious Deliverer of the children of men. Great was the joy of that illustrious day, when the eternal Son of God, entered the city of the new Jerusalem, as the victorious Conqueror of sin, death, and hell, whom he led as captives to adorn his triumph, for, "having spoiled principalities and powers, he made a show of them openly, triumphing over them, and ascended on high, leading captivity captive." Then the eternal hills resounded to the melodious sound of ten thousand times ten thousand voices, who sing aloud, "Worthy is the Lamb that was slain, to receive power, and riches, and wisdom, and strength, and honour, and glory, and blessing." Then all in heaven said, "Blessing, and honour, and glory, and power, be unto him that sitteth upon the throne, and unto the Lamb, for ever, and ever." The spirits of the redeemed vie with elect angels, in testifying their love, reverence, and gratitude to the God of their salvation. They knew, if the eternal Son of God had not become their surety, not one of Adam's race could ever have entered the realms of bliss.[107] But in the eternal council of peace, he did covenant and promise, in the fulness of time, to become a sacrifice, and God who knew him to be faithful, did, on the credit of that promise, save all the Old Testament saints.[108] Jesus had now fulfilled that engagement; paid the full price of their redemption; "blotted out the hand-writing of ordinances that was against them, taking it away by nailing it to his cross." What wonder, if his return was hailed with rapturous delight; his presence could not fail of adding fresh joy to the happy spirits of the redeemed in glory. Yes! Jesus has "ascended on high, he has led captivity captive, and received gifts for men." It is as the God-Man, it is in his human nature, that he is said to receive gifts; for, as God, all is his in common with the Father. It is in the office of Mediator, that he has "all power given him in heaven and on earth." It is as God-Man, that the Father set him "at his right hand, in the heavenly places; far above all principality, and power, and might, and dominion, and every name that is named, not only in this world, but also in that which is to come; and hath put all things under his feet, and gave him to be the head over all things to the church." He is made the great Almoner of heaven, and he disposes of his gifts to the children of earth. He has received freely, and he gives freely,--witness the showers of ascension gifts, on the day of Pentecost. He then, as the apostle quotes the words, "gave gifts to men, yea, to the rebellious also, that the Lord God might dwell among them." But while we view Christ as glorified, let us not fail to connect the scenes of Gethsemane and Calvary. The new song in heaven, to which their golden harps are ever tuned, is to the praise of him "who was slain, and has redeemed us to God by his blood, out of every kindred, and tongue, and people, and nation; and has made us unto our God kings and priests for ever." [107] John xiv. 6. [108] Psalm xl. 7, 8. CHAPTER LX. And it shall come to pass afterward, that I will pour out my spirit upon all flesh; and your sons and your daughters shall prophesy, your old men shall dream dreams, and your young men shall see visions: and also upon the servants and upon the handmaids in those days will I pour out my spirit.--Joel ii. 28, 29. That part of the prophet Joel from which this verse is selected, is highly interesting; and although not strictly prophetical of the person of the Messiah, yet it is so closely connected that it cannot be severed without injury to the whole. In fact, it serves as a test, whereby we may prove if Jesus be in truth that Messiah, of whom "Moses and the prophets did write." The "afterward" here noticed, alludes to the coming of the Messiah, after which great day of the Lord, the promise here made, of a glorious outpouring of the spirit, was to be fulfilled. It will be alike easy and delightful, to trace its accomplishment. The Holy Spirit, from the earliest ages of the world, has shed his sacred influences over the church; but no visible or open display of that divine person, God the Holy Ghost, had ever been made. That great event was reserved until after the Messiah's appearance; and, when that illustrious person had publicly manifested himself to the world, then was this promise to be fulfilled. Jesus declared himself to be the second person, in the revealed order of the Holy Trinity--the eternal Son of God--Christ the Messiah; and in such character he promised, when returned to glory, to send down the Holy Spirit. Again and again did Jesus direct his disciples to expect that event. On the last great day of the feast, he publicly proclaimed in the temple its near approach, and promised its fulfilment; "for the Holy Ghost was not yet given, because that Jesus was not yet glorified." When the faithful disciples were overwhelmed with grief, on learning from their beloved Master that he was shortly to leave them, Jesus cheered their drooping spirits with the promise of another Comforter, even the Spirit of truth; whom he would send from the Father. To reconcile them still more to his departure, he told them "it was expedient for them that he should go away," for, "if he went not away the Comforter would not come; but if he departed, he would send him unto them." After his resurrection, Jesus again taught the disciples to expect this great event, and on the morning of his ascension he repeated his promise, adding, as it would not be many days hence, they should tarry at Jerusalem until its accomplishment. After the ascension of Jesus, the disciples were so fully persuaded that he was the Christ of God, that they continued daily assembled together, waiting for the fulfilment of the great promise made to them by their risen Lord. It will be remembered, that all the Israelitish males were commanded to appear, three times in the year, before the Lord at Jerusalem, at the feasts of Passover, Pentecost, and Tabernacles. The feast of Pentecost or weeks, was celebrated fifty days after the Passover. It was at the first great Jewish festival, the Passover, that Jesus was crucified. He arose from the dead on the third day, and as forty days intervened between his resurrection and return to glory, there could be only seven days from his ascension until the feast of Pentecost. It was on the morning of the ever-memorable day of Pentecost, the disciples being all of one accord, in one place; that "suddenly there came a sound from heaven, as of a rushing mighty wind, and filled all the house, where they were assembled; and there appeared cloven tongues, like as of fire, and sat upon each of them, and they were all filled with the Holy Ghost, and began to speak with other tongues, as the Spirit gave them utterance." Such a miraculous event was soon noised abroad, and multitudes crowd to learn the fact. As the Holy Spirit was graciously pleased to make this open display of his person and godhead, at one of the great Jewish festivals, the number of strangers who usually resorted to Jerusalem at that season, either for the purposes of worship or trade, became witnesses of the miraculous gifts bestowed on those hitherto unlearned, and many of them unlettered, Galilean fishermen. The inhabitants of Galilee were proverbial for their dulness and stupidity;[109] yet these men were taught, in an instant of time, to speak, with ease and fluency, languages whose very names, it is more than probable, they were an hour before unable to pronounce correctly. An opportunity was instantly offered for the apostles openly to display their extraordinary gifts. Amidst the assembled throng were men of sixteen different nations, to whom these poor fishermen publicly proclaimed, in their several languages, or dialects, the wonderful works of God. They needed no interpreter, in addressing this motley crowd. How preposterous to accuse the apostles of drunkenness! Truly, we should not imagine a state of inebriety the best calculated for acquiring a knowledge of any of the learned languages. We seldom know men, (however well their heads are furnished,) in a state of intoxication, speak any thing except it be the language of foolishness. Beside, it was only the third hour of the day, (nine o'clock) the time of offering the daily morning sacrifice in the temple, before which hour the Jews were forbidden to take any refreshment; and, as this was a solemn festival, no doubt the command was then more strictly observed. How mild, yet energetic, the reply of Peter, who declared the event to be a fulfilment of the prophecy of Joel, accomplished on the return of Jesus to glory; "when being by the right hand of God exalted, and having received of the Father the promise of the Holy Ghost, he had shed forth that which they then saw and heard." The appearance of the Holy Spirit was sufficient to prove his personality. Might not the sound from heaven, as of a rushing mighty wind, be designed to show that the operations of God the Holy Spirit, are like the unknown and unexplored sources of the air. "The wind bloweth where it listeth, and thou hearest the sound thereof; but canst not tell whence it cometh, or whither it goeth: so is every one that is born of the Spirit." This was a lesson taught Nicodemus by Jesus, the wisdom and word of God. [109] John vii. 52. Acts ii. 7. On Shinar's plains, the Lord, to testify his divine displeasure, confounded the language of mankind. It was a curse pronounced on Babel's tower; but at Pentecost, the Holy Spirit was pleased to use the diversity of language as a witness of his almighty power and Godhead; when he publicly and solemnly ordained the apostles ministers of the everlasting Gospel, and endowed them with extraordinary gifts, as the first ambassadors of Christ, sent forth to publish unto all nations the glad tidings of great joy. Might we not be tempted, when viewing the immoral and profane amusements of Whitsuntide, to imagine it an annual feast holden to Venus or Bacchus; instead of (as at first designed) a solemn festival, intended to commemorate the visible descent of the Spirit of Purity? Certainly the general character of the public assemblies, at that season, bears a much nearer resemblance to the sports holden in honour of the deified heroes in heathen mythology, than to the pure and spiritual nature of the Divine Person, whose first public appearance in our world it was wished annually to celebrate. What would the early disciples of Christ feel, could they behold the sad perversion of this sacred festival! CHAPTER LXI. And I will pour upon the House of David, and upon the inhabitants of Jerusalem, the Spirit of grace and of supplications; and they shall look upon me whom they have pierced, and they shall mourn for him as one mourneth for his only son, and shall be in bitterness for him as one that is in bitterness for his first born.--Zech. xii. 10. The Prophet Zechariah here presents to our view one of the richest jewels in the treasury of God's promises. It sparkles clear and bright amid the records of divine truth. All earth's richest treasures cannot offer an adequate remuneration for the withdrawment of this precious promise. The words deserve our most careful examination. We will therefore consider the person here promising; the persons to whom the promise is made; the thing promised; and search for proofs of its fulfilment. The person here promising is the God-Man, Christ Jesus, for the words are, "I will pour, &c. &c., and they shall look upon me, whom they have pierced, and mourn." We never find God the Father using such language as this when speaking of his disobedient creatures. God is justly displeased at man's apostasy. His law is dishonoured, his works defaced and injured by sin. Yet God, as God, cannot be the subject of pain and sorrow, he is beyond their reach. But if we look at the God-Man, Christ Jesus, we behold his sacred head pierced with a thorny crown, his hands and feet with nails of iron, his side with the soldier's spear, and his soul with the wrath of God. He who suffered thus on earth, did, as God, make this gracious promise. The persons to whom this promise literally applies, are the Jews, whose restoration as a nation to the divine favour, will form a prominent feature in the latter-day glories of the Church. The Lord has promised to gather together the dispersed in Judah, and the outcasts of Israel. "The deliverer shall arise out of Zion, and turn away ungodliness from Jacob." This nation, who once refused and crucified the Messiah, shall, when partakers of this promised blessing, "look upon him whom they have pierced, and mourn." This promise is not confined to the Jews, but extends to the fallen race of Adam, whom our spiritual David will make inhabitants of the new Jerusalem, which is above, without regard to their being of Jewish or Gentile extraction.[110] He will not consider the trifling distinctions of colour, language, or nation, a barrier of such importance as to preclude their participating in his blessings. [110] Matt. xxviii. 19. Acts xi. 18., xiii. 46, 47., xv. 3. The thing promised is an abundant outpouring of the Holy Spirit. Adam, by his apostasy, lost the image of God stamped upon his soul at his creation. The sentence, "in the day thou eatest thereof thou shalt surely die," was not suffered to go unexecuted. From that hapless hour, his soul, the most noble part, was dead to all spiritual life, and became the abode of corroding passions and depraved principles. He immediately shrank from holding intercourse with God, and tried to hide himself from the presence of his benefactor. As Adam begat a son in his own fallen likeness, all his race partake of the same corrupt nature. We are ignorant of God and his ways. We need divine teaching; we cannot naturally understand the things of God, which are spiritual, the eye of our understanding being darkened; God is not in all our thoughts; we are averse to communion with the Father of Spirits. We despise his offers of free grace--we prefer to be saved by our own rather than God's method--we see no beauty in Jesus that we should desire him--we dislike to renounce our own, and trust in his complete righteousness--we consider his commands grievous, and the language of our soul is, "we will not have this man to reign over us." But we are here told of a sovereign antidote for these deep-seated moral disorders of the soul. Here is a gracious promise of an abundant outpouring of the Holy Spirit, whose office it is to "convince of sin, of righteousness, and of judgment." He convinces the soul, into which he enters, of the exceeding sinfulness of sin--that it is the evil thing which God hates; and shows the divine law is spiritual, extending to the thoughts and intents of the heart.[111] He puts a cry for mercy into the soul, destroys the natural enmity of the mind against God's plan of salvation, and makes the object of his divine teaching willing and anxious to partake of the Lord's bounty, and be a debtor to mercy alone. The Holy Spirit teaches of righteousness by convincing that a better righteousness than our own tattered rags is absolutely necessary, ere we can see the face of God with peace. He makes the soul willing to be clothed with the wedding garment of Jesus' righteousness, which is the fine linen of the saints. It is indispensable that we be clothed with this livery of the court of Heaven, or we shall be denied admission into the mansions of the King of Glory. Would we behold the fulfilment of this prophetic promise, then let us direct our minds back to a survey of the glorious scenes exhibited on the ever memorable day of Pentecost, when the Spirit was, in so free and copious a manner, poured out from on high. Attend to the sermon Peter preached on the day of his ordination; mark its effects on the three thousand of the House of David, inhabitants of Jerusalem's much-famed city. Listen to their cry, "Men and brethren, what must we do?" Surely these were none of the stout hearts who dared even to crucify the Lord of life and glory? The same! yet how different their tone--how altered their conduct! To what cause can we attribute this astonishing change in the minds of three thousand persons in the same instant of time? Surely it was none other than the almighty work of God the Holy Ghost. It was his influence on the minds of these men which produced the Spirit of grace and supplication, and taught them to direct the anxious cry and supplicating look unto him whom they had pierced. Was not the anguish of their souls, under a sense of their sins, equal to the exquisite sorrow of those who bitterly bewail the death of their first-born? However skilfully Peter might wield the sword of the Spirit, (the word of God,) it was none other than the God of all grace, who directed and sent it home with saving power to the hearts and consciences of these Jerusalem sinners. Are not the other triumphs of the Spirit worthy of regard, when five thousand are made willing cordially to embrace Christ crucified? May we not, by the way, observe, that the reception of the Gospel by such numbers so immediately after the ascension of Jesus, proved the truth of the facts recorded by the apostles, of the life, death, resurrection, and ascension of Christ? Many, no doubt, of these early converts of Christianity, had been eye-witnesses of several of the events, and _all_ had an opportunity of discovering the deception, if there had existed any, in the apostles' narrative. But no sooner are they persuaded to compare the Old Testament prophecies concerning the Messiah, with all the circumstances in the history of Jesus of Nazareth, than they anxiously desire to be enlisted under the banners of the cross. Unable to resist the force of truth, they join the persecuted adherents of the crucified Jesus, and cast in their lot with his despised followers, although "a sect every where spoken against." When were converts to Christianity most numerous? Was it not when there existed the best possible opportunity of detecting the least imposition or falsehood, on the part of the writers of the New Testament? Let it not be forgotten that those early converts were neither won by the arm of worldly power, nor bribed by proffered gold. On the contrary, no sooner did they embrace the Gospel, but they were met at the very threshold by ignominy and persecution in every varied and frightful form, sufficiently terrific to deter all but men really convinced of the truth, and swayed by its sacred influence. [111] John xvi. 7-14. But we must not confine the accomplishment of this promise entirely to the days of Pentecost, although it then assumed a more splendid and attractive appearance, than it has done in these latter times. Yet through each succeeding age, the Lord the Spirit has not been unmindful of his covenant engagements. Could we draw aside the veil that separates between us and the holy of holies--could we obtain a glimpse of the inhabitants of the New Jerusalem which is above, and inquire of the goodly number that surround the throne of God and the Lamb, Who was the faithful instructor and guide, that taught them to walk in the way that led to everlasting life? they would direct us to the Lord the Spirit, as the almighty guide who pointed out the road, and taught their wandering feet to tread the strait, the narrow way, the only path, that leads to Zion's hill. In the Bible, that chart of life, the road is shown with clearness, and described with accuracy. It is called faith in the finished salvation of Christ, and obedience to his commands. The hand which drew this path to glory, is the very same that painted the splendid canopy of heaven. By this good old way, all the patriarchs, prophets, apostles, martyrs, and reformers, entered the city of the Lord of Hosts. Their guide and comforter, through this waste howling wilderness, was the third person of the Triune-Jehovah. What countless myriads has this almighty guide led to the mount of God, from the antediluvian worthies, down to the happy spirit just entered into the joy of its Lord! Like them, led by the same unerring teacher, we shall not fail of arriving safely at the mansion of everlasting joy, for he is the only faithful conductor[112]to the heavenly Jerusalem; untaught by him, none can find the path of life, but will assuredly stumble on the dark mountains of sin and error, and run the downward road that leads to hell. [112] Psalm cxliii. 10. Eternal life is the gift of God. Christ is "the way, the truth, and the life: none can come unto God, but by him." The office of the Holy Spirit is to instruct the ignorant, comfort the mourners in Zion, and make us meet to be "partakers of the inheritance of the saints in light." "If ye, being evil, know how to give good gifts unto your children, how much more will your heavenly Father give the Holy Spirit to them that ask him." May we be partakers of that inestimable blessing, for without _his_ influence on our hearts, vain will be even the electing love of God the Father--vain the vicarious sacrifice and imputed righteousness of Christ the Son--vain to us the plan of salvation; and vain, all the promises of the Gospel. As well for us, if those glad tidings of great joy, "Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good-will toward men," had not reached our ears. Unapplied, the most sovereign remedy is useless, for then not even Gilead's balm, can heal the dire disease.[113] Christ will prove no Saviour to us, unless applied to our individual case. It is the office of the Holy Spirit, to take of the things of Christ and show them unto us. Faith is the hand by which we grasp Christ crucified. That saving faith, by which we apprehend the finished salvation of Jesus, and make it our own, is a grace wrought in the heart by the operation of the Spirit of God. Far better would it be for the children of men, if the sun were turned into darkness, the moon into blood, and all the stars of heaven withdraw their shining; than that this glorious promise of the outpouring of the Spirit, should be blotted from the book of God's remembrance! [113] Jeremiah viii. 22. May that blessed morning shortly dawn, "when all shall know the Lord!" Hasten, glorious Immanuel, that bright day, when "the whole earth shall be full of the knowledge of the Lord, as the waters cover the sea." CHAPTER LXII. The Lord hath sworn and will not repent, thou art a priest for ever, after the order of Melchizedek.--Psalm cx. 4. In the Old Testament, we find but little recorded of Melchizedek, that venerable priest of the most High God, who met and blessed the patriarch Abraham as he returned victorious from the slaughter of Chedorlaomer and the confederate kings. But from that little, we are led to regard him as a person of distinction. To him, the great father of the faithful and friend of God presented the tithes or tenths of the spoil. It is from the prophetical word of the royal Psalmist, "the Lord hath sworn and will not repent, thou art a Priest for ever, after the order of Melchizedek," that we are taught to view this ancient priest of God as a type: and of whom, if not of Christ? Paul, in his epistle to the Hebrews,[114] speaks largely on the subject; he proves the fulfilment of the prophecy, and declares, that Christ's priestly office was prefigured in the person of Melchizedek, to Abraham the father of the Israelitish race. In the same epistle, we find blended the priesthood of Aaron, in order to show the vast superiority of that of Christ over the other two, though both instituted by God himself. But as we find no prophecy respecting the Aaronic priesthood, we make no further reference to that subject, in order to attend more immediately to the words, "The Lord hath sworn, and will not repent, thou art a priest for ever, after the order of Melchizedek." Was this priest of the most High God honoured with the title of King of Salem--by interpretation, King of Righteousness, and King of Peace? Is not Jesus proclaimed King of Zion; the Lord our Righteousness, and the Prince of Peace? Nor are these mere empty titles, but real characters, and offices, sustained by Him, who "abideth a priest upon his throne for ever." We have no historical account of the parentage or descendants of Melchizedek; he is presented to us as "without father, without mother, without descent, having neither beginning of days, nor end of life;" but being made like unto the Son of God, abideth a priest continually.[115] And Christ's priesthood was not derived by genealogy, or succession, he had neither father or mother of the family of Aaron, from whom his priesthood could descend. It is evident our Lord sprang "out of Judah, of which tribe no man gave attendance at the altar;"[116] neither did Christ die and leave it to others, by way of descent, but was constituted a single priest, without predecessor or successor. "He abideth a priest for ever, after the order of Melchizedek." It is impossible for a finite mind to comprehend the eternal sonship of the Son of God, whom the Father, before the foundation of the world, constituted a priest for ever; and therefore, the priesthood of Melchizedek was instituted to prefigure to us the nature of Christ's eternal priesthood. "The Lord hath sworn and will not repent, thou art a priest for ever, after the order of Melchizedek." These words deserve particular attention. It is God the Father who swears to Christ; no oath of allegiance is required from him who is constituted our Priest. Jehovah, whose eye pierces through futurity, knew he would be faithful in his office, and he freely and unreservedly trusted him to maintain his divine honour and justice, and accomplish the salvation of sinners. The high-priestly office, though honourable, could not add to Christ's dignity; but his glorious person did confer honour and dignity upon the sacred office, for he who is constituted our High Priest, "is fellow to the Lord of Hosts." "Every high priest is ordained, to offer both gifts and sacrifices," and great was the sacrifice offered by Christ: he offered up himself; he would borrow nothing, but was both priest, sacrifice, altar, and temple: and "by that offering, he hath perfected for ever them that are sanctified." "And because he continueth ever, he hath an unchangeable priesthood;" "wherefore he _is_ able to save them to the uttermost, that come unto God by him, seeing he ever liveth to make intercession for them." Blessed Jesus! thou priest of Melchizedek's order, while we would not withhold from thee a portion of all that thou givest us, let us not rest satisfied, till we are enabled to present "our bodies and souls a reasonable sacrifice, holy and acceptable unto God." [114] Hebrews v. 5-11., vii. 1-28. [115] Hebrews vii. 3. [116] Hebrews vi. 20. CHAPTER LXIII. Seventy weeks are determined upon thy people and upon thy holy city, to finish the transgression, and to make an end of sins, and to make reconciliation for iniquity, and to bring in everlasting righteousness, and to seal up the vision and prophecy, and to anoint the most Holy. Know, therefore, and understand, that from the going forth of the commandment to restore and to build Jerusalem, unto the Messiah, the Prince, shall be seven weeks, and three score and two weeks: the street shall be built again, and the wall, even in troublous times.--Daniel ix. 24, 25. The harps of Judah were silent--the disconsolate Israelites hung them on the willows of Babylon--no songs of Zion were heard in that land of captivity, where, for seventy long years, they wore the galling yoke of bondage, bereft of home and all its blessings--the land of their forefathers in the possession of strangers--Jerusalem in ruins--her palaces consumed--the Temple destroyed--the spot trodden down by the Heathen--themselves exposed to the taunts of their conquerors, and compelled to bow before the idolatrous image of Chaldean superstition.[117] Well might Judah's sons weep by the waters of Babylon, whose murmurings recalled to their recollection the stream which gushed from Horeb's mount.[118] The remembrance of past blessings increases the weight of present misery. How changed their state, and changed to punish their awful rebellions against the Lord of Sabaoth! Yet the God of Israel was not unmindful of his promise--he cheered their drooping spirits with the assurance of speedy deliverance from their captive state. The prayer of Daniel entered into the ears of the Lord of Hosts--the command was given--swiftly the angel, even Gabriel, flew to reveal his Lord's decrees unto the mourning prophet--that "man greatly beloved" of his God. Daniel was commissioned to foretel the deliverance of the Jews from Babylon--the building of Jerusalem and its walls in troublous times; and to him, Jehovah was graciously pleased to renew the promise of the Prince, Messiah, whose appearance all the patriarchs and prophets had foretold. The nearer that glorious epoch approached, the more minutely was it described. The Lord gave Daniel to "know and understand, that from the going forth of the commandment to restore and build Jerusalem unto the Messiah, the Prince, should be seven weeks, and three score and two weeks." The period here styled weeks, is generally allowed to be sabbaths of years. This appears to be the sense of the passage, for the Jews were accustomed to reckon their time and feasts by weeks or sabbaths. The week of days was from one seventh or sabbath day to another. The week of years was from one seventh or sabbatical year to another; in the seventh, or sabbatical year, they neither sowed their fields nor pruned their vineyards; it was a sabbath of rest unto the land.[119] In the regulation of the year of Jubilee, they were commanded to number "seven sabbaths of years, seven times seven years, and the space of the seven sabbaths of years shall be to thee forty and nine years."[120] We therefore only follow the Mosaic rule, (to which Moses' disciples cannot object,) if we consider these seven weeks, and three score and two weeks, as seven times sixty-nine, or four hundred and eighty-three years, which should be between "the going forth of the commandment to restore and build Jerusalem unto the Messiah, the Prince." There were four distinct decrees or commandments granted by the kings of Persia, in favour of the Jews, who came under the dominion of that empire by its conquest of Babylon. This was the epoch of Daniel's vision. No sooner had Cyrus obtained possession of Chaldea, than he issued a decree allowing the Jews to quit the land of their captivity, and repair to Judea to build the temple of the Lord. He also restored to them the vessels and treasures which Nebuchadnezzar had taken from the temple built by Solomon. On the grant of this decree,[121] five hundred and thirty-six years before Christ, many of the Jews returned to their own land, and laid the foundation of the temple; but they were hindered in the building of it by their several enemies, who were supported in their opposition by Artaxerxes, the successor of Cyrus. But when Darius Hystaspes ascended the throne of Persia, he issued a decree[122] five hundred and nineteen years before Christ, forbidding the enemies of the Jews to interrupt the building of the temple, and further commanded that materials requisite for the work, and the animals, oil, and wine for the sacrifices, should be supplied at his (the king's) cost. The third decree was granted to Ezra, the scribe, four hundred and sixty-seven years before Christ, by Artaxerxes Longimanus, in the seventh year of his reign, by which he bestowed great favours upon the Jews,[123] appointing Ezra Governor of Judea. He permitted all the Jews to return to Jerusalem, and commanded his treasurers beyond the river, to supply Ezra with such things as he needed for the house of his God, even to an hundred talents of silver, an hundred measures of wheat, an hundred baths of wine, and an hundred baths of oil. The king and his princes presented much silver and gold, and many vessels, and ordered that what else might be required for the house of God, should be supplied from the king's treasury. This is not the same Artaxerxes who listened to the slanderous reports of the enemies of the Jews, and stopped the building of their temple; but Artaxerxes, surnamed Longimanus, supposed to be the person styled Ahasuerus, in the book of Esther, whose attachment to his Israelitish consort may account for the distinguished favours he conferred on the people of her nation. We find the queen was present when Nehemiah presented his petition, which was the second decree granted by this monarch, and was the fourth and last decree, being granted in the twentieth year of his reign, and four hundred and fifty-four years before Christ.[124] This was the most efficient decree, for by it Jerusalem and its walls were built. The high resolves of the court of Heaven were revealed; Daniel was made "to know and understand that from the going forth of the commandment to restore and build Jerusalem, _unto_ the Messiah, the prince, shall be seven weeks, and three score and two weeks, being sixty nine weeks, or four hundred and eighty-three years. From the last, or fourth, decree to the birth of Christ, (vide Rollin, volume 8, page 265,) is four hundred and fifty-four years, to which we add twenty-nine years (the age at about which Christ entered on his public ministry);[125] these united, make the exact period of sixty-nine weeks, or four hundred and eighty-three years. Daniel also declares that "seventy weeks (or four hundred and ninety years) are determined upon thy people and upon thy holy city, to finish the transgression, and to make an end of sins, and to make reconciliation for iniquity, and to bring in everlasting righteousness, and to seal up the vision and prophecy, and to anoint the most Holy." We find between the seventy weeks, or four hundred and ninety years, and the sixty-nine weeks, or four hundred and eighty-three years, a difference of one week, or seven years, which is the week evidently alluded to in the twenty-seventh verse of this chapter, in which "he shall confirm the covenant with many for one week, &c." From the period of Christ's first entry into the ministry, and the calling of his apostles, until his crucifixion, were three and a half years, and, for three and a half years after that event, his apostles continued to minister amongst the Jews. This makes a period of seven years, (or one prophetic week,) in the midst of which the Messiah was cut off, and "the sacrifice and oblation" virtually ceased. The correspondence is exact: Jesus, the Messiah, not only entered on his public ministry at the very period pointed out ages before, but was actually cut off in the midst of the week, as was expressly foretold. These predictions of the Prince Messiah are peculiarly striking. The time for his appearance is marked, and the particular objects he should effect on his coming, are described with such minuteness, as scarcely to admit of the possibility of mistaking his person. The grand features of his mission were so strongly exhibited, that it was morally impossible the Messiah should appear and not be recognised. Prejudice must have blinded the eye of that mind which does not, on comparing the whole of the New Testament with this prophecy, acknowledge Jesus of Nazareth to be the Messiah. It bears the stamp of divine prescience: none but the omniscient God could have given his features with such clearness so many ages before. This portrait of the Messiah, which bears so exact a resemblance to Jesus, was in the possession of the Jews, at least five hundred years before that glorious person was exhibited to the world, a God incarnate. [117] Dan. iii. 4-15. [118] Numbers xx. 11. [119] Lev. xxiii. 3., xxv. 3, 4. [120] Lev. xxv. 8. 10. [121] 2 Chron. xxxvi. 22, 23. [122] Ezra vi. 7-12. [123] Ezra vii. 11-23. [124] Neh. ii. 1-8. [125] Luke iii. 23. Jesus declares himself to be the long promised Messiah--his claim rests on no slight or doubtful evidence--he came at the very precise time it was foretold the Messiah should appear to the people and the holy city. Christ's ministry was among the people of the Jews--Judea was the land of his nativity--the scene of his labours--the witness of his miracles--he was born at Bethlehem, near Jerusalem, and crucified just "without the gate" of the holy city. On Calvary "he finished the transgressions, and made an end of sin, and make reconciliation for iniquity." There the God-man, Christ Jesus, offered up his life a ransom for the guilty--there the surety of the Church paid the full price for her redemption, and made peace by the blood of his cross--there "he suffered the just for the unjust to bring sinners unto God." He took away "the hand-writing of ordinances that was against us, taking them out of the way by nailing them to the cross"--there he removed the iniquity of the land in one day, and so completely "finished the transgression," by suffering the punishment due for his people's sins, that when they are "sought for they shall not be found"--there he paid the full price of their redemption, he cancelled the bond, and made peace and reconciliation with offended justice. He "brought in an everlasting righteousness, and not only suffered the penalty due for their transgressions of God's law, 'which is holy, just, and good,' but, as the head of the Church, he obeyed all the precepts of the moral law; which he exalted and made honourable. Perfect was the obedience wrought out--complete was the righteousness brought in by the incarnate Deity, the Lord our righteousness, which is from everlasting to everlasting "unto all and upon all that believe, for there is no difference." Amidst the awful gloom on Calvary's mount, was heard the cry "it is finished!" It was the conqueror's shout--victory was achieved--Satan was vanquished--the sting of death was taken away--the power of the grave destroyed--the conflict was over--the ransom paid--the captives of the mighty delivered--the law was honoured--justice satisfied--God glorified--Heaven opened--man redeemed--and hell vanquished. That was the glorious event which types were intended to exhibit, and prophets were commissioned to proclaim. The appointed time of the vision was arrived--it had long tarried, but it was accomplished. The chain of prophecy was complete--the vision was sealed[126]--and the most holy anointed. The God-man, Christ Jesus, anointed by his Father king and priest of Zion, then exchanged his thorny crown for the royal diadem--then left the sorrows of earth for the glories of his mediatorial throne, which no enemy can touch--their opposition is vain--he that sitteth upon the circle of the heavens, will laugh them to scorn. Happy are they who have for their king and priest, _him_ whose kingdom is eternal, and priesthood unchangeable--who look to the Redeemer of Israel as the rock of their salvation, and crown the most holy, Lord of all. "Happy are the people that are in such a case, yea, blessed are the people whose God is the Lord." [126] Rev. xxii. 18, 19. CHAPTER LXIV. And after three score and two weeks shall Messiah be cut off, but not for himself: and the people of the prince that shall come shall destroy the city and the sanctuary; and the end thereof shall be with a flood, and unto the end of the war desolations are determined.--Daniel ix. 26. This vision of Daniel appears involved in considerable obscurity, by the diversity of time alluded to in the several parts of the prophecy, and renders it difficult to prove its exact accomplishment. But we hope we have shown in the preceding part, that it does not militate against "the truth as it is in Jesus," it rather tends to strengthen the testimony, by affording an additional opportunity of proving, from sacred and profane history, the fulfilment of the great event. The proof of its accomplishment does not rest on the insulated fact, but is established by a chain of evidence, derived from the annals of nations. For, whichever of the decrees we take, it is clear from ancient chronology, that the period alluded to is passed, and the Messiah did appear not far from the time named by any decree. As we have attempted to prove the fulfilment of the first part of the prophetic vision, it may not be improper if we now endeavour to show that the remaining part of this interesting prophecy has also been accomplished. "After threescore and two weeks shall Messiah be cut off, but not for himself: and the people of the prince that shall come shall destroy the city and the sanctuary." "Secret things belong unto God; but things that are revealed, to you and your children." We cannot ascertain to a certainty when the seventy-two weeks commence, but it is evident they terminate at the cutting off of the Messiah. From the words "And the end thereof shall be with a flood, and unto the end of the war desolations are determined," it appears, also, to allude to the destruction of the city, previous to which event the Messiah should be cut off. We hope we shall not offer any violence to the words, if we give them this interpretation. The destruction of Jerusalem is not the only event alluded to in this interesting prophecy; there is one of paramount importance to the ruin of Salem's palaces, though that involved the fate of Judah's sons. On the other momentous fact hang the highest interests of Jew and Gentile, bond and free, past, present, and future generations; not only the happiness of earth, but much of the glory of heaven, depends on its accomplishment. Without it no sweet song of "Salvation to God and the Lamb," would have echoed amidst the heavenly hills, none of the race of Adam would be seen worshipping before the presence of Jehovah with the angels of light; those melodious hymns of redemption, now chaunted by ten thousand times ten thousand glorified Saints, had not been heard but for the vicarious sacrifice of the Son of God,[127] who not only covenanted, but did actually lay down his life a ransom for sinners. When Jesus, the Christ of God, the Prince Messiah, appeared on earth, it was not simply to set the children of men an example of piety and virtue; we ardently admire his glorious example, and consider his followers bound to imitate the bright pattern he has left them; yet we dare not believe that _that_ was the only object he designed to accomplish when he visited our world.[128] No, he came as the federal Head, the Representative and Surety of his people.[129] He was "cut off from the land of the living," by a violent and cruel death; yet not for himself, not for any sin of his own,[130] nor purposely to set us a pattern of patience and resignation; but to discharge the debt of sin, he had covenanted to cancel on man's account. Jehovah executed towards him the severest justice, and permitted his crucifiers to exercise the blackest ingratitude, and most inhuman cruelty. "O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, thou who killest the prophets, and stonest them that are sent unto thee, how often would the Lord have gathered thee under his protecting care as a hen gathereth her chickens under her wings, but ye would not." Thy awful doom was sealed when thou didst reject the authority, and persecute unto death Jesus the Messiah, thy prophet and benefactor, thy God and King. The thought of thy approaching misery drew tears from the eyes, and groans from the heart, of Incarnate Deity; yet thy children beheld, with feelings of triumphant scorn, the sorrows and sufferings their wanton cruelty inflicted on the Holy Jesus. But heaven marked the impious deed.[131] The blood of Jesus, of prophets, of apostles, and of martyrs, called for vengeance on thy guilty land; the cry was heard, justice remembered thy black catalogue of crimes, the King of heaven beheld the insult offered to his beloved Son, and Jehovah arose to punish thy rejection of Jesus the Messiah, whom "ye would not have to reign over you." The crimes of Jerusalem were of the blackest and most awful character, and her punishment was tremendously dreadful.[132] The Israelites, once the peculiar favourites of Heaven[133]--nursed in the lap of plenty, instructed in the oracles of God--blessed with the temple of Jehovah--taught to adore the God of truth whom their forefathers worshipped; this people, who once had the Lord for their Law-giver and King,[134] were compelled to bow beneath the oppressive power of arbitrary despots--the law of truth was exchanged for the tyrant's mandate--equity and justice were banished the walls of Salem, and despotism, oppression, blasphemy, and pride, reigned within that devoted, miserable, city. Anarchy and confusion ruled that senate and sanctuary, once as gloriously "distinguished from the rest of the world by the purity of its government, as by the richness and elegance of its buildings. Jerusalem was devoted to destruction, and she sunk beneath the accumulated horrors of war, famine, fire, and pestilence. Internal faction and a foreign foe reduced that beauteous city and magnificent sanctuary, to a heap of ruins. The temple fell--not all the commands, promises, or threats of Titus, could save that splendid edifice from destruction; the people of the prince, regardless of their general's orders, helped to complete the work of desolation;--but prophecy was fulfilled, Jerusalem was overwhelmed with the flood of divine vengeance, and desolation prevailed even unto the end of the war. [127] John xiv. 6. [128] John xii, 27. [129] 1 Corinthians xv. 22. Romans v. 17-19. [130] Luke xxiii. 4. Isaiah liii. 5, 10. [131] Matthew xxiii. 35-37. [132] Matthew xxiv. 21. [133] Deuteronomy iv. 7. [134] Deuteronomy iv. 5, 8. CHAPTER LXV. And he shall confirm the covenant with many for one week; and in the midst of the week he shall cause the sacrifice and the oblation to cease, and for the overspreading of abominations he shall make it desolate, even until the consummation, and that determined shall be poured upon the desolate.--Daniel ix. 27. Some writers consider this verse prophetical of the desolate state of Jerusalem under Antiochus Epiphanes, that sacrilegious monarch who impiously profaned the sanctuary of the God of Israel. By him the temple was ransacked and despoiled of its holy vessels; its golden ornaments pulled off; its hidden treasures seized; and an unclean animal offered on the altar of burnt-offerings. Thus did this impious Syrian king dare profane the altar and temple dedicated to Jehovah. Neither was this all; Jerusalem again felt the force of his horrid cruelty and profaneness; men, women, and children, were either slain or taken captive; and the houses and city walls were destroyed. The Jews were not allowed to offer burnt offerings or sacrifices to the God of Israel--circumcision was forbidden--they were required to profane the Sabbath, and eat the flesh of swine, and other beasts forbidden by their law[135]--the sanctuary dedicated to Jehovah was called the temple of Jupiter Olympius, and his image set up on the altar--idol temples and altars were erected throughout all their cities--and the Holy Scriptures destroyed whenever they were met with--and death was the fate of those who read the word of the Lord. The most horrid and brutal cruelties were inflicted on such as chose to obey God, rather than this Syrian monster. Jerusalem was overspread by his abominations; desolation was indeed poured out "upon the desolate" when Antiochus Epiphanes held the blood stained sceptre, emblem of satanic power. Yet, closely as these circumstances resemble the description given by the prophet's vision, we cannot think it is the event alluded to in this prophecy. Daniel, in the three preceding verses, speaks of the Messiah, and the final destruction of the city and sanctuary: by Antiochus the temple certainly was _not_ destroyed. In the eleventh chapter there appears a striking prophecy of the events which happened in Jerusalem during the dominion of the Syrian tyrant, but we cannot think he is alluded to in any part of the ninth chapter. The first clause of this verse, "He shall confirm the covenant with many," cannot refer to Antiochus, but alludes to the same glorious person mentioned in the preceding verses. The latter part of this verse may with propriety be considered as a continuance of the prophecy of Jerusalem's final destruction, as it occurred under Titus. To Jesus the Messiah we direct our eyes. The one week, or the midst of the week, (seven years half expired,) alludes to the time of his Public Ministry, which was three years and a half; during which period he declared, the design of his mission was to confirm the well-ordered covenant of redemption and peace, which was drawn up in the counsels of eternity--sealed on earth with the blood of the Incarnate God--signed in the presence of Jehovah, angels, men, and devils--registered in the court of Heaven--and proclaimed good and valid by the resurrection of Jesus from the dead, and the outpouring of the Holy Spirit.[136] It is true, the sacrifices and oblations of the temple service did not cease immediately on the death of Christ, they were continued some little time after that event; but they became unnecessary, they had lost their value, and were but idle ceremonies and useless rights, when the thing signified was accomplished. At best, they were only types of the Lamb of God, the blood of that one great sacrifice, which alone "cleanseth from all sin." "It is not possible for the blood of bulls or goats to take away sin." No, the sacrifices and ceremonies of the Mosaic economy were only efficacious so far as Christ, the substance, was viewed through the shadow.[137] In less than forty years after the death of Christ, the sacrifices and oblations ceased, for the temple was demolished. A spot so deeply stained with crime, needed the fire of divine vengeance to consume it from the face of the earth: it was erected for the worship of the God of Israel, but was turned into the seat of iniquity and profaneness. The horrid enormities observed in the temple of Juggernaut scarcely surpassed the impious practices exercised within the Jewish sanctuary. When Titus, the Roman general, approached the walls of the city, it more resembled the court of Mars and Bacchus, than the temple of Jehovah; the drunkard's voice--the clash of arms--the shouts of the victor--the cries of the vanquished--and the groans of the dying, echoed through that magnificent pile; human blood flowed in its courts, and sprinkled its altars and its walls. Jerusalem was a scene of slaughter; but it was not a war to support the glorious cause of freedom; nor were they fighting to repel the foreign foe, or shedding their blood to defend their beloved homes, and the still dearer objects of affection, around which the warm heart clings with fondest thought amidst the scene of danger and of death, and for whose preservation the weakest arm grows desperate, and the feeblest mind resolves to conquer or to die. But theirs was no such glorious contest; no--civil war had reared her hydra head; the horrid yell of intestine discord rang through Salem's courts, and echoed round her walls; that infernal power bursts the bands of brotherhood, severs the closest ties, dissolves the strongest link of union, and makes the man a monster. The sword of her own sons deluged Jerusalem with Jewish blood; the fire which destroyed her houses was kindled by her own children; death and destruction reigned through all her palaces; the city groaned beneath a three-fold faction, when the Roman legions approached her walls to complete the horrid scene of slaughter. The temple was the head-quarters of Eleazar and the Zealots; they had in their possession the stores of first fruits and offerings, and were frequently in a state of intoxication; but when not drunken with wine, they thirsted for the blood of their countrymen, and issued from their strong hold, to assault John and his party, who lay intrenched in the out-works of the temple. The ruin of Jerusalem is attributed to the horrid enormities of the Zealot faction: surely that was the summit of wickedness, when the priests sold themselves to work iniquity, and the temple of the Lord was the seat of their crimes. That was "the overspreading of abomination," and it continued until the sanctuary was consumed, and "ruin was poured upon the desolators." It was the iniquitous practices of the Jews, rather than the Roman eagle, which profaned the courts of the Lord's House: the conquerors did not plant their standard to insult, but with a wish to preserve, the temple from total ruin and destruction. [135] Leviticus xi. 2, 7, 8. [136] 1 Timothy iii. 16. Acts ii. 24, 33. [137] Hebrews iv. 2. x. 1-10, 20. CHAPTER LXVI. For I will gather all nations against Jerusalem to battle; and the city shall be taken, and the houses rifled, and the women ravished; and half of the city shall go forth into captivity, and the residue of the people shall not be cut off from the city.--Zechariah xiv. 2. Imperial Rome, to whom the world once bowed, and whose power could command armies from "all nations," had conquered Judea, and received from her the yearly tribute of her subjection:[138] but, through the oppression of the Roman governors, and the madness of the people, the standard of revolt was planted, and the Jews attempted to break their yoke of bondage. The Roman legions, inured to war, and accustomed to the shout of victory, hastened to subdue the rebellious Israelites: they passed from city to city, and from province to province; slaughter and death marked their course; the strife was desperate; the conflict bloody; the Jews fought like men determined to conquer or to die: two hundred and forty-seven thousand seven hundred were slain before their provinces were subjugated, and an immense number made prisoners: amongst whom was Josephus, the historian of the war, who was governor of the two Galilees, and who defended them with skill and bravery. The Romans, having conquered the provinces, approached to assault Jerusalem, which was then a dreadful scene. The sound of war was heard through all her gates; regardless of the approaching foe, the Jews had turned their arms against each other; three several factions were busily engaged in the work of slaughter and destruction. Eleazar and the Zealots seized the temple; John of Gischala and his followers occupied its out-works; and Simon, the son of Gorias, possessed the whole of the lower, and a great part of the upper, town. Jerusalem was built on two hills; the highest, on which stood the temple, was called the upper town, and the other the lower: between these lay a valley covered with houses; the suburbs of the city were extensive, and encircled by a wall; two other walls also surrounded Jerusalem, the interior one of remarkable strength. Neither of the three factious parties had any just claim to supremacy or power, though all contended for dominion, and fought for plunder. The Zealots were the smallest party, but, from their situation, possessed the advantage: they sallied from their strong holds to attack John, who seized every opportunity of assaulting Simon; thus John maintained a double war, and was often obliged to divide his forces, being attacked by Eleazar and Simon at the same time. In these furious contests, no age or sex was spared; the slaughter was dreadful. When either party was repelled, the other set fire to the building, without any distinction. Regardless of their contents, they consumed granaries and store-houses, which contained a stock of corn and other necessaries of life, sufficient to maintain the inhabitants during a siege of many years; but nearly the whole was burnt, and this circumstance made way for a calamity more horrid than even war itself. Famine soon showed her meagre form, and all classes felt the dreadful effects of a scarcity of food. Such was the miserable state of Jerusalem when the Roman general Titus (son of the reigning emperor, Vespasian,) prepared to attack the city. The sight of a powerful foreign foe at their gates, with all the artillery of war, could not quell the factions within; it is true, when closely pressed by the Romans, the three parties joined to repel the common enemy, but no sooner had they breathing time, than the spirit of contention arose, and they resumed the slaughter of each other: thus they maintained a fierce contest with the besiegers, and, at the same time, seized every opportunity of destroying each other. The misery of the city was soon beyond precedent, from the dreadful effects of famine, the price of provisions became exorbitant, and, when no longer offered for sale, the houses were entered and searched, and the wretched owners tortured till they confessed where the slender pittance was concealed; at length the distress became so great, that persons parted with the whole of their property to obtain a bushel of wheat, which they eat before it could be baked, or even ground; and happy was he who could catch a morsel of meat, half roasted, half raw, from the fire. No kind of cruelty was omitted in search of food: at length their sufferings were so severe, that the wretched inhabitants were necessitated to search the vaults and sinks for sustenance, and even fed on articles too offensive to be named. The ties of nature and humanity were forgotten, the wife seized the food from her husband, the child from the parent, and even the mother from her infant.[139] The excruciating pain of famine so far overpowered the tenderest and finest affections in nature, that a woman, descended from a rich and respectable family, even killed, boiled, and ate, her own child, a son in all the artless and endearing simplicity of infancy! Well may the British mother tremble at the horrid sound, and pity the wretched Israelitish female, thus sunk below the brute. Pestilence now stalked abroad, for the air was tainted by the dead: though no less than six hundred thousand dead bodies were carried out of the city during the time Titus encamped before the walls, yet there was an incredible number who had no friends to bury them, and their bodies were enclosed in large buildings, or laid in heaps in the open air. "O Jerusalem, thou didst drink at the hand of the Lord the cup of his fury, thou hast drunken the dregs of the cup of trembling, and wrung them out" even desolation, destruction, famine and sword, "thy houses rifled, thy women ravished" by Jewish ruffians, and the city at length taken by the Roman general. Titus had again and again offered the Jews honourable terms of capitulation; but they rejected all his overtures with proud disdain, and when his soldiers took the city, exasperated at the hardships they had endured, they spared neither sex, age, or rank. Sword and fire destroyed Jerusalem and her children, and closed this horrid war, in which one million one hundred thousand Jews were slain, and ninety-seven thousand made prisoners. [138] Luke ii. 1. Matthew xxii. 17. [139] Deut. xxviii. 48-59. CHAPTER LXVII. The Lord shall bring a nation against thee from far, from the end of the earth, as swift as the eagle flieth; a nation whose tongue thou shalt not understand; a nation of fierce countenance, which shall not regard the person of the old, nor show favour to the young.--Deut. xxviii. 49, 50. And when he was come near, he beheld the city, and wept over it, saying, if thou hadst known, even thou, at least in this thy day, the things which belong unto thy peace! but now they are hid from thine eyes. For the days shall come upon thee, that thine enemies shall cast a trench about thee, and compass thee round, and keep thee in on every side, and shall lay thee even with the ground, and thy children within thee; and they shall not leave in thee one stone upon another; because thou knewest not the time of thy visitation.--Luke xix. 41-44. Judea was not conquered by the neighbouring Asiatic states, but by the Roman, Europeans of a "fierce and warlike countenance," who knew not the Jewish language, and regarded not "the persons of the old, nor showed favour to the young." It will not be difficult to trace the Roman soldiers in this eloquently descriptive character. No nation excelled them in their military prowess, or in the rapidity of their conquests. In comparatively a very short period of time, they extended their empire over all the then civilised part of the globe. The insignia of their legions was not more descriptive of their valour, than of the unexampled rapidity of their movements. The celebrated motto of Cæsar, "I came, I saw, I conquered," was neither of a doubtful, or boasting, character. Their career was indeed "as swift as the eagle flieth." No nation or people did long withstand the fierceness of their attacks, or the persevering energy of their generals. In their triumphs over their enemies, they frequently displayed a ferocity happily unknown in modern warfare. The most distinguished of their captives, without regard to age or sex, were dragged in triumph, amidst the shouts of the conquerors, and the insults of the rabble. Often, when exasperated by the protracted defence of a brave people struggling for their existence, instead of respecting such patriotic efforts, they inflicted the most horrid barbarities upon the unresisting and unhappy objects of their vengeance; and a slaughter, indiscriminating in its fury, and dreadful in its results, marked the blood-stained progress of the licentious soldiery, who "regarded not the person of the old, nor showed favour to the young." History informs us, that the Romans, under Titus and Vespasian, after a protracted siege, unparalleled in horror, and sanguinary beyond example, at length became masters of this once-favoured spot; and if we compare the predictions of Christ with the events which occurred, and followed at the taking of this devoted city, we shall be struck with the coincidence of the declaration, and its awful fulfilment. His foreknowledge of the dreadful calamities which should precede and accompany the destruction of Jerusalem, caused our blessed Saviour, when he beheld the city, to weep over it: and, surely, if this once-favoured race had then known the day of its visitation, the Lord would have turned from his fierce anger: but these things "were hid from their eyes." Having rejected the Lord of Glory, they were given over to judicial blindness, and the Lord brought upon them "a nation from afar" to execute his vengeance. Jerusalem was "trodden down by the Gentiles," and there was "great distress upon the land, and wrath upon the people." The sword and the spear from without, and famine and pestilence and civil discord within, were indeed unto them "the beginning of sorrows." The predicted day was now come, when their "enemies should cast a trench about them, and compass them round, and keep them in on every side." Their walls of strength, their beautiful palaces, and their magnificent temple, were laid "even with the ground." Not "one stone was left upon another" that was not thrown down; and all the princes and the nobles, the ruler and the ruled, the priest and the people, and "the children within thee," either "fell by the edge of the sword," or were "led away captive into all nations," for there was "great distress in the land, and wrath upon the people." CHAPTER LXVIII. Therefore shall Zion for your sake be plowed as a field, and Jerusalem shall become heaps, and the mountain of the house as the high places of the forest.--Micah iii. 12. "Walk about Zion, and go round about her, tell the towers thereof, mark ye well her bulwarks, consider her palaces," are they still "beautiful for situation?" Is Jerusalem yet the "joy of the whole earth?" Within "her walls peace once reigned, and prosperity within her palaces." But how changed the spot! desolation and dismay reign in undisturbed possession, where elegance and art displayed their richest and most curious productions. Jerusalem is fallen--war destroyed her palaces, and levelled her temple--the fire which consumed that magnificent city was kindled by the hand of civil discord--the desolating element that blazed with awful glare, amidst the splendid sanctuary, was first lit by Jewish hands--and the enfuriated Roman soldiers applied the torch, which ultimately destroyed the temple of Jehovah. The Jews having burnt the greater part of the galleries around the temple, and the Roman soldiers set fire to the remainder, Titus commanded his troops to extinguish the flames; but no sooner were his orders executed than a Roman soldier threw a fire-brand into the temple, and the interior was instantly in a blaze; the flames spread with rapidity, and not all the commands, threatenings, or entreaties, of the Roman general, and his officers, were effectual to preserve the building. Whilst some were endeavouring to check the furious element, others set fire to several of the door-posts; the scene was dreadful; the Jews were filled with astonishment and horror, and their conquerors with fury. Amidst the crackling of the fire were heard the shouts of the victors, and the cries of the vanquished; the shrieks of the wounded, and the groans of the dying. The ground on every side was strewed with dead; while the courts flowed with Jewish blood, the fire raged above; the conflagration was awful, and the massacre dreadful.[140] Jerusalem and its walls were destroyed, the temple levelled, and the Jews conquered, in the second year of the reign of Vespasian, on the same month and day as Nebuchadnezzar destroyed the former city and temple. The last temple, once celebrated for its magnificence, is now no more. That building which, by the solidity of its construction, seemed to defy the mouldering hand of time, soon became a heap of ruins, and "the mountain of the house as the high places of the forest."[141] Titus, before he withdrew his troops, commanded them to reduce the city and temple to a level with the ground, and they left not "one stone upon another," to mark the spot where the temple stood. So strictly was this order executed, that the demolished city scarcely appeared to have been the residence of human creatures. Only three strong towers remained of the once magnificent Jerusalem, and they were left to exhibit to future times the skill and power of the Roman troops, in becoming possessed of a place so strongly fortified by nature and art. Josephus and other Jews attribute the unparalleled calamities of their country-men, and the destruction of the temple, to the signal vengeance of heaven, inflicted to punish that deluded people for their cruelty and injustice to James the just, the brother of Jesus, who is called Christ: but a believer of the New Testament _must_ consider that _they_ were punished for their rejection and crucifixion of Jesus Christ himself, the Messiah of Israel, and Son of God; it was for _that_ cause "Zion was plowed as a field; Jerusalem became a heap of ruins, and the mountain of the house as the high places of the forest." [140] Matt. xxiv. 21, 22. [141] The walls were composed of the most durable kind of white stone, of massive size, each stone being twelve feet high, eighteen broad, and thirty-seven and a half in length. CHAPTER LXIX. And he shall be for a sanctuary; but for a stone of stumbling and for a rock of offence to both the houses of Israel, for a gin and for a snare to the inhabitants of Jerusalem.--Isaiah viii. 14. These words are not prophetical of the person of the Messiah, yet they describe, in striking language, the effects that would follow his appearance and ministry upon earth. They foretel the opposition and enmity that would arise, in the minds of the Jewish nation, to the Christ of God. If the whole Israelitish race had gladly hailed Jesus as their Messiah, and if all, to whom the Gospel has been proclaimed, from its first promulgation down to the present hour; if all these countless multitudes, had cordially embraced the faith of Christ, it could not have proved a more decisive evidence of "the truth as it is in Jesus," than is afforded by the Jews in their rejection of Christ as the Messiah. Thereby the prophecies of God are fulfilled concerning _him_, who, though set for a sanctuary, became "a stumbling block, and rock of offence," to the house of Israel, "and a gin and a snare to the inhabitants of Jerusalem." The Jews were not a little vain of the glorious pre-eminence their nation once sustained amidst the kingdoms of the world, on account of the wondrous works, which the Lord of Hosts had wrought for them, by "his mighty hand, and outstretched arm." Their religious distinctions and ceremonies had also tended to feed their pride, and nourish their haughty contempt, for the other nations of the earth. Their long promised Messiah was not forgotten by them. In his reign, their lively imaginations had blended all the splendid conquests and dazzling magnificence of regal power. Theirs was a tone of mind but ill-suited to bow before the despised Man of Nazareth; to embrace the commands, and follow as a master, one so poor, that "he had not where to lay his head." When we consider the natural pride of the human heart, as joined with the national pride of the Jewish people, we may cease to wonder at their rejection of Jesus. They could not stoop to acknowledge even the Son of God as their ruler, when offered to them void of the purple robe and golden sceptre. They could not swear allegiance to Zion's King, when they saw neither his royal pavilion, nor marshalled troops. They could not bow before one born in a stable, though Angels had descended to proclaim his glorious advent. What wonder, if the eye by gazing so long and frequently on the dazzling splendour they were wont to attach to the Messiah's reign, could not perceive the fainter rays of glory that glimmered around the retired path of the Man of Nazareth; they were offended at the absence of all temporal splendour in his person; the Cross of Christ proved a stumbling block and rock of offence. The Jews rejected, as unfit for their-building, "the precious corner stone, which the Lord God had lain in Zion, as a sure foundation." They could not admit the Carpenter's Son to be the head of God's Church, nor acknowledge the Man, untaught in the schools of worldly science, to be the prophet of God's people. Neither "has the offence of the cross yet ceased;" multitudes still despise and reject the Christ of God; they are ashamed to own allegiance to Jesus of Nazareth; they blush to acknowledge, as their Lord and Master, him who died upon the accursed tree; they dislike to be thought one of his real followers, and hate the humiliating and self-denying commands he enjoins on his disciples. They prefer building their hopes for eternity on the sandy foundation of human merit, rather than on the blood and righteousness of Jesus. But if we refuse to rest on Christ, that "sure foundation God has laid in Zion," all other grounds of hope will prove a treacherous rest, from which the floods of divine justice will sweep us to the dark abyss of wo. God has declared that "other foundation can no man lay, than is laid, which is Christ Jesus." Yet how little anxiety is evinced on a subject of such immense importance! How few are concerned to build their hopes for eternity, on Christ, the Rock of Ages, that precious corner stone; that tried stone; tried by countless myriads of happy saints, now in glory, who found him faithful to save from the overwhelming surge. Must not he, who paid the full price of a soul, know its worth? and has he not declared, that it will profit us little "to gain the whole world and lose our own soul?" One soul is of more real value than this world, with all its boasted riches and glories. The day is coming when "the heavens shall depart as a scroll, the elements melt with fervent heat," and this world, so loved and caressed by its votaries will be utterly consumed by the fire of divine vengeance. But the soul of every individual must exist for ever, either in eternal happiness or misery. Yet how is the method of man's reconciliation with God slighted? How is that glorious scheme of redemption, by the death of Christ, despised by the great majority of those to whom it is published. Do angels turn from the lofty pursuits and glories of the heavenly world, to pry into the mysteries of the cross; and shall man, for whose benefit it was contrived and accomplished, remain stupidly insensible to its excellence and glory, carelessly indifferent whether or not he partake of the blessing? Are we not taught in the case of our first parents, the absolute necessity there is for our knowing and receiving Christ? Was it not on the evening of the same day, in which they brake through the fence of God's command, that he was graciously pleased to discover to them his plan of reconciliation in the promised seed? And why so soon after their transgression? but that the knowledge of it was necessary to their salvation. Shall that scheme of Redemption, which required the depths of divine wisdom to contrive, and the extent of divine love to execute, be despised and rejected by man, as unworthy his acceptance? By man, that worm of the earth, that creature of a day, so insignificant amidst the stupendous works of God, that if he were annihilated, he would scarcely be missed amid the boundless immensity of space. Awful is the state of the Gentile or the Jew who "hath trodden under foot the Son of God, and counted the blood of the covenant an unholy thing." The Jews, where are they? or rather, where are they not? To what part of the world can we turn, without beholding some of the tribe of Israel. They dwell in every land, but have none they can call their own? They have lost their power, but preserved their national features and manners. Wanderers on the face of the globe for nearly eighteen hundred years, they are not assimilated with any people. What other nation has so long preserved a distinction? Where are the Britons, Romans, Saxons, Normans, ancient inhabitants of our Isle? They are all blended in the English. The Jews, though dwelling in every country, are still an unmixed people, yet that very distinction exposes them to persecution and scorn. The dispersion of the Jews is but a small part of their calamities. The Hebrews are a despised and persecuted race, compelled to endure, without the hope of redress, indignities the most revolting--barbarities the most cruel--insults the most degrading--losses the most severe. And this not merely from one nation, but nearly the whole world has wreaked its vengeance on this unhappy people. Even the most civilised and polished nations have stooped to load the Jews with obloquy and scorn; many and grievous are the disabilities to which they are subject. Yes, Jehovah has executed his threatened punishment upon this unhappy people, for their rejection of the Messiah. "He has scattered them among all people from one end of the earth even unto the other." "Their plagues have been wonderful, even great plagues, and of long continuance." They are become "an astonishment, a proverb, and by-word among all nations." All the prophecies of the Messiah which we possess, were handed down to us from the Jews. The Hebrew and Greek versions of the Old Testament were in their possession long before the gospel era. Its latest prophecy was at least four hundred and thirty years before the angel's shout was heard, "Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men." Nor do the Jews attempt to deny that Jesus of Nazareth appeared at the time related by the Evangelists. Josephus, the Jewish historian, in his antiquities of that nation, (book the 18th,) relates:--"About this period, (referring to the reign of Tiberius Cæsar,) there arose to notice one Jesus, a man of consummate wisdom, _if, indeed, he may be deemed a man_. He was eminently celebrated for his power of working miracles; and they who were curious and desirous to learn the truth, flocked to him in abundance. He was followed by immense numbers of people, as well Jews as Gentiles. This was that Christ, whom the princes and great men of our nation accused. He was delivered up to the cross by Pontius Pilate; notwithstanding which, those who originally adhered to him, never forsook him. On the third day after his crucifixion he was seen alive, agreeably to the predictions of several prophets: he wrought a great number of marvellous acts; and there remain, even to this day, a sect of people who bear the name of Christians, who acknowledge this Christ for their head." This honourable testimony is from an enemy--a Jew, whose writings were held in high estimation by his nation. Christ "came into his own nation, but they received him not." No evidence, however bright or clear, was sufficient to convince men so blinded by prejudice. Warned, invited, and threatened, still they persisted in rejecting the Messiah, because he did not assume the warrior's sword, or mount the throne of Judah. Should we not feel more disposed to pity and reclaim, that insult and oppress, this deluded people? Have they no claim to our gratitude? To "them were committed the Oracles of God," which we now enjoy. The prophets and apostles were all Jews; and from them, "according to the flesh, Christ came, who is over all, God blessed for evermore." It is recorded, by ecclesiastical writers, that several of Christ's own disciples and apostles--Simon Peter, Simon Zelotes, James the son of Zebedee, Joseph of Arimathea, Aristobulus, and St. Paul himself, preached the gospel to this nation. If this, indeed, be correct, their nation has peculiar claims to our regard, for the services of their ancestors. Certainly, the Romans were instructed in Christianity by Paul and other Jews; and, in the first century, the Roman legions, and the standard of the gospel of Christ, were planted on Albion's coast. The Jews, though scattered and persecuted, are not destroyed; they are preserved monuments of the divine veracity. O, may we take warning from their awful fate! "Because of unbelief _they_ were broken off, and _we_ stand by faith." "Let us not be highminded, but fear; for if God spared not the natural branches, take heed, lest he spare not us. Behold, therefore, the goodness and severity of God; on them which fell, severity; but, towards us, goodness, if we continue in his goodness: otherwise, we also shall be cut off." It will avail us little to confess Jesus as the Messiah, if we are unconcerned to know and practise the doctrines he has taught. But may we "serve the Lord with fear, and rejoice with trembling." "Kiss the Son, lest he be angry, and ye perish from the way, when his wrath is kindled but a little." "Blessed are all they that put their trust in him," for his word is fate; immutability seals, and eternity executes, whatever he decrees. CHAPTER LXX. And he said, It is a light thing that thou shouldest be my servant to raise up the tribes of Jacob, and to restore the preserved of Israel: I will also give thee for a light to the Gentiles, that thou mayest be my salvation unto the end of the earth.--Isaiah xlix. 6. The descendants of Abraham, the friend of God, were treated as the Lord's peculiar people; singled out from other nations as the favourites of heaven, the Lord was their lawgiver and king. No other nation had God "so nigh unto them in all things that they called upon him for," as the people of Israel. To benefit them, the laws of nature were reversed, and nations destroyed. They were employed by Jehovah to punish the idolatrous people for their crimes.[142] They were selected to maintain the knowledge and worship of the true God,[143] and to convey his pure and holy law to remote generations. Thus favoured and blessed, the Jews were accustomed contemptuously to regard all other nations, as common and unclean; they could not endure to have one stone thrown down of the partition wall, which had so long separated them from the Gentiles.[144] They proudly enough appropriated to themselves all the blessings connected with the appearance of the Messiah. But it would be a light thing that Christ should become Jehovah's servant, endure pain and scorn, merely to "raise up the tribes of Jacob, and to restore the preserved of Israel;" that nation which he knew would so long despise and reject him. But Messiah was given for "a light to the Gentiles," and Jehovah's "salvation unto the ends of the earth." He has asked, and received "the heathen for his inheritance, and the uttermost parts of the earth for his possession." "Yea, all nations shall be blessed in him;" for the root of Jesse shall stand for "an ensign of the people, and to him shall the Gentiles seek:" to his glorious rest shall all nations flow. He shall have "dominion from sea to sea, and from the river unto the ends of the earth." "They that dwell in the wilderness, shall bow before him; and his enemies lick the dust. The kings of Tarshish and of the Isles shall bring presents; the kings of Sheba and Seba, shall offer gifts: yea, all kings shall fall down before him, all nations shall serve him. For he shall deliver the needy when he crieth; the poor also, and him that hath no helper. He shall redeem their soul from violence: and precious shall their blood be in his sight. He shall live, and to him shall be given of the gold of Seba: prayer also shall be made for him continually; and daily shall he be praised. His name shall endure for ever, his name shall be continued as long as the sun: and men shall be blessed in him: all nations shall call him blessed. Blessed be the Lord God, the God of Israel, who only doeth wondrous things." Yes, Christ is Jehovah's servant, in whom his soul delights; he has "put his spirit upon him, he shall bring forth judgment to the Gentiles;" "he has given him for a covenant of the people, for a light of the Gentiles." Numerous are the prophecies which refer to the call of the heathen world, and Jesus who declares himself the Messiah, is described in the New Testament as "a light to lighten the Gentiles," as well as "the glory of his people Israel." He preached himself in the borders of Zabulon and Nephthalim,[145] and Samaria:[146] the parting command he gave his disciples was, that they should "go forth into all the world, and preach the gospel to every creature." He endowed them with the gift of tongues, to enable them to preach the unsearchable riches of Christ to the Gentiles. And they went forth and preached every where, "the Lord working with them, and confirming the word with signs following." "The word of the Lord went forth from Jerusalem;" it rapidly spread through Jewry, Samaria, and Galilee. Distant cities soon heard the glad tidings. Within thirty years after their Lord's ascension, the faithful disciples had preached the doctrines of the gospel at Cæsarea, Damascus, Joppa, Antioch, Phrygia, Galatia, Derbe, Corinth, Iconium, Ephesus, Macedonia, Cyprus, Syria, Cilicia, Athens, Alexandria, at Rome, and numerous other places. [142] Deuteronomy xviii. 9, 12. [143] Isaiah xliii. 20, 21. [144] John iv. 9. [145] Matthew iv. 12, 13, 15, 16. [146] John iv. 4. The Christian faith was contrary to all existing opinions, religions, and habits; and decidedly opposed to the natural propensities of the human heart. Its teachers were Jewish fishermen, tent-makers, and tax-gatherers, poor and illiterate men,[147] unskilled in artifice. They preached not merely amongst men as simple as themselves, they taught at Athens and Rome, the very seats of learning and philosophy; they had to contend with men skilled in science, and were opposed by long-established customs and habits. The disciples had no eloquence to convince, no power to awe, no wealth to bribe; they were opposed by Jewish pride, Grecian philosophy, and worldly power; yet the gospel flourished rapidly over all opposition and persecution: ancient prejudice fell before the religion of Jesus; though it offered no worldly recompense to its followers, yet it spread, notwithstanding the kings and nobles of the earth set themselves in array against it. "The stone cut out without hands is become a great mountain, and shall fill the whole earth." The standard of the cross has been planted on every land. Nations, barbarous and learned, have bowed before it; may it go on "conquering and to conquer," till all nations and people call our Immanuel blessed. [147] Acts iv, 13. CHAPTER LXXI. The LORD said unto my Lord, Sit thou at my right hand, until I make thine enemies thy footstool.--Psalm cx. 1. We here find Jehovah, _the_ LORD, in the person of God the Father, addressing the Adonai, my Lord, in the person of God the Son, Christ Jesus _our_ Lord.[148] It is he, and he only, who shares the throne of Deity.[149] He who tabernacled on earth, "a man of sorrows and acquainted with griefs," is now seated "on the right hand of the Majesty on high. Far above all principality, and power, and might, and dominion, and every name that is named, not only in this world, but in that which is to come." "To which of the angels said he at any time, Sit on my right hand, until I make thine enemies thy footstool?" "But unto the Son he saith, Thy throne, O God, is for ever and ever; a sceptre of righteousness, is the sceptre of thy kingdom." "This is he that liveth, and was dead, and behold he is alive for evermore; and hath the keys of hell and of death. He is Alpha and Omega, the beginning and the ending, saith the Lord, which is, and which was, and which is to come, the Almighty;" "whom the heaven must receive, until the times of restitution of all things, which God hath spoken by the mouth of all his holy prophets since the world began." "The LORD said unto my Lord, Sit thou at my right hand, until I make thine enemies thy footstool." "For he hath appointed a day, in the which he will judge the world in righteousness, by that man whom he hath ordained; whereof he hath given assurance unto all men, in that he hath raised him from the dead." "For the Father judgeth no man, but hath committed all judgment unto the Son; that all men should honour the Son, even as they honour the Father. He that honoureth not the Son, honoureth not the Father which hath sent him." "But who may abide the day of his coming? and who shall stand when he appeareth?" Wo unto them who now dare to raise their puny arm in rebellion against the Majesty of heaven; who madly rush on the "thick bosses of Jehovah's buckler;" "trample under foot the blood of the Son of God;" and "heap unto themselves wrath, against the day of wrath." Christ will not always extend the golden sceptre of mercy, that sinners "may touch and live." The day is coming, when he will grasp the sword of justice, and arise to "judge the world in righteousness." "Behold, he cometh with clouds; and every eye shall see him, and they also which pierced him; and all kindreds of the earth shall wail because of him." O that men "did but know in this their day, the things that belong unto their peace, before they are for ever hid from their eyes;" for "some shall awake to everlasting life, and some to shame and everlasting contempt, but they that be wise shall shine as the brightness of the firmament; and they that turn many to righteousness, as the stars for ever and ever." Ye watchmen on Zion's walls, ye ministers of the everlasting gospel, O "heal not the wound of the daughter of God's people slightly;" say not, "Peace, peace, when there is no peace." "Cry aloud, spare not; lift up thy voice like a trumpet, and show the people their transgressions, and the house of Jacob their sins." Shrink not back, like Jonah of old, from delivering your Master's awful message. Be ye faithful to your God, to your conscience, and to souls. Let the sweet accents of mercy be heard, while ye boldly unfurl the blood-stained banners of the cross. Tell of the love and pity of him, who died that we might live: "Who suffered, the just for the unjust; to bring sinners unto God." "Pray them, in Christ's stead, to be reconciled unto God;" and accept of mercy while it may be found. Invite, exhort, entreat them to flee from the wrath to come, to lay down the weapons of their rebellion, and join your royal Master's cause; to quit the enemy's camp, those strong holds of sin and Satan, and rally round our Immanuel's standard. "Proclaim the unsearchable riches of Christ," tell them "his yoke is easy, and his burden light," that "his ways are ways of pleasantness, and that all his paths are peace?" Tell them "he now waits to be gracious, but that, ere long, the Lord Jesus shall be revealed from heaven, with his mighty angels in flaming fire, taking vengeance on them that know not God, and that obey not the gospel of our Lord Jesus Christ, who shall be punished with everlasting destruction from the presence of the Lord, and from the glory of his power; when he shall come to be glorified in his saints, and to be admired in all them that believe." "He will swallow up death in victory; the Lord God will wipe away tears from of all faces; and the rebuke of his people shall be taken away from off all the earth," for the Lord hath spoken it. "It shall be said in that day, Lo, this is our God; we have waited for him, and he will save us: this is the Lord; we have waited for him; we will be glad, and rejoice in his salvation." [148] In whatever part of the Bible the name of the LORD is written in capital letters, it means Jehovah; and the name of the Lord in small letters, signifies Adonai. The translators intended to show, by this method, that in the original there is a very material difference in the word. By the glorious incommunicable name of Jehovah (translated LORD in capital letters,) is meant the Self-existent, Independent, and Eternal Being, the promising and performing God. The word Adonai (translated Lord in small letters) conveys the idea of Lord or Ruler, an Almighty Helper or Supporter, and is particularly descriptive of the Mediatorial character of the Lord Jesus. [149] Zechariah xiii. 7. FINIS. Mills, Jowett, and Mills, Bolt-court, Fleet-street. * * * * * Transcriber's note: Page 125: The transcriber has inserted a missing anchor for footnote 71: Col. ii. 9. Minor typographical errors have been corrected without note. Irregularities and inconsistencies in the text have been retained as printed. Mismatched quotes are not fixed if it's not sufficiently clear where the missing quote should be placed. The cover for the eBook version of this book was created by the transcriber and is placed in the public domain. 
44531	----	THE BOYHOOD OF JESUS [Illustration] PUBLISHED BY DAVID C. COOK PUBLISHING COMPANY Factory and Shipping Rooms, Elgin, Illinois Try to be like Jesus. The Bible tells of Jesus, So gentle and so meek; I'll try to be like Jesus In ev'ry word I speak. For Jesus, too, was loving, His words were always kind; I'll try to be like Jesus In thought and word and mind. I long to be like Jesus, Who said "I am the Truth;" Then I will give my heart to him, Now, in my early youth. --_Lillian Payson._ [Illustration: THE BABY JESUS.] COPYRIGHT, 1905, BY DAVID C. COOK PUBLISHING COMPANY. The Little Lord Jesus. Away in a manger, No crib for a bed, The little Lord Jesus Laid down his sweet head. The stars in the sky Looked down where he lay-- The little Lord Jesus Asleep on the hay. The cattle are lowing, The poor baby wakes, But little Lord Jesus No crying he makes. I love thee, Lord Jesus; Look down from the sky, And stay by my cradle To watch Lullaby. --_Luther's Cradle Hymn_ The Child Promised. [Illustration] THERE was once a time when there was no Christmas at all. There were no beautiful Christmas trees and happy songs and stockings filled with presents. No one shouted "Merry Christmas!" or "Christmas Gift!" No one told the sweet story of Jesus, because Jesus had not come into the world and so there was no Christmas. You see Christmas is Jesus' birthday, and before he came, of course people could not keep his birthday. You have heard of how wicked and unhappy the people were long ago. Although God loved them and tried to make them do right, they forgot about him and did so many naughty, disobedient things that they were very miserable. Then God sent a wonderful message to them. He told them that some day he would send them his own Son, who should be their King and teach them how to do right. He said that his Son would come as a little child to grow up among them to love and help them. God even told them what they should call this baby who was to be their King. God said that Christ would be like a beautiful light showing them where to go. It would be as though some people stumbling sorrowfully along a dark street should suddenly see a bright light shining ahead of them, making everything cheerful and pleasant. They would be joyful like people who gather in the harvest. Jesus makes his children happy, and he wants them to shine out and make others happy. These people who were so unhappy before Jesus came, were very glad to know that some day he would come. They talked about him and waited a long, long time before he came and brought Christmas light into the world. [Illustration] [Illustration: THE BABE IN BETHLEHEM.] The Coming of Jesus. LONG ago there lived a good man named Joseph, a carpenter of Nazareth, who built houses and made many useful things for people. He also loved to read God's Gift Book, and tried to obey its rules. One day the king of the land where Joseph lived ordered everyone to write his name in a book, and pay a tax, in his own city. So Joseph and Mary his wife got ready to take a long journey to their old home, Bethlehem. There were no cars for them to ride in, so they must either walk or ride a donkey. As the fashion was there, Mary wore a long, white veil which covered her beautiful face. The streets were full of people, walking, or traveling on mules, donkeys, or camels--all going to be taxed. It was winter, but in a warm country, and they went through valleys of figs, olives, dates, oranges and other good things. [Illustration] They must have been very tired when they reached Bethlehem's gates, for they had come a long distance, and the dust of the road, the bustle of traveling, and the strangeness of it all, seemed to add to their trials. The people of Bethlehem had opened their homes and welcomed the strangers, until every house was full, and still the people kept coming. They could scarcely go up the steep hill, they were so weary, and Joseph tried to get a place to rest, but there was no kind invitation, no welcome in any house for them, and the inns were crowded. The inns were not like our hotels for travelers; they were flat-roofed stone buildings, without windows. There were no warm rooms with carpets, and soft beds for tired travelers to lie on. There were only bare floors, and everyone had to bring his own bed and food. The courtyard was full of animals--donkeys, mules, camels, sheep and cows. After Joseph had tried and failed to get a resting place, as there was no room anywhere, some kind friend told him of a cave on the hillside which was used as a stable, and to this they gladly went. Sweet-smelling hay was all around, and the floor was covered with straw; possibly mild-eyed cows and gentle sheep were sleeping in their stalls. Along the walls were mangers, or boxes to hold the grain and hay when the animals were fed. Here Mary and Joseph found a shelter and a sleeping place; indeed, they were thankful to be led there to rest upon the hay. In the night a wonderful thing took place: God sent the baby Gift Child into the world. This gift had been promised long before to Adam and Eve, and now it had come--the most beautiful and dearest Baby ever held in a mother's arms. The night grew dark, the house-lights went out one by one, and the people in Bethlehem slept. [Illustration] [Illustration: THE ANGELS' SONG.] The Angels' Joy. THE happiest song that was ever sung was sung on the first and best Christmas of all. There was a time when there was no Christmas. Can you think how glad you would be if you had no Christmas, and then one day all at once you had the first and best one of all? This song was sung and the first Christmas came one night long years ago, far over the sea, near a little town called Bethlehem. It did not come first to kings and great people, but to some shepherds who were sitting up all night watching their sheep. Outside of the city were beautiful sloping green fields where the shepherds let their sheep run about and eat the grass. The weather there is very pleasant at Christmas time; not at all like our weather. The shepherds can sit out on the grass all night, watching their sheep. Did you ever see a sheep or a lamb? Do you know that your mittens and jackets and nice warm dresses are made of the wool which the sheep have to spare for us? The shepherds have to stay out with the sheep all night because they are very gentle and timid animals. They cannot fight for themselves, and if they were left alone the wolves would catch them. [Illustration] One night about 1900 years ago some shepherds were watching their sheep in those fields. Very likely the shepherds were some of the people who were hoping that Jesus would soon come; perhaps they were talking about him, and wondering how they would know if he did come. All at once a bright light shone about them, and they saw an angel and heard him speak to them. Very kind and beautiful the angel looked, but the shepherds were frightened. The angel said to them, "Fear not; for behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people; for unto you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, which is Christ the Lord. And this shall be a sign unto you; Ye shall find the babe, wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger." [Illustration] As the angel was speaking, the shepherds saw with him a great number of beautiful, shining angels. Then was sung for the first time this grand song, for Christmas had come. I do not know the tune, but the very words are in the Bible: "Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good-will toward men." Glory to God, for the greatest gift that ever came; peace on earth, for all who love this Savior. As soon as the angels finished the song they went back to heaven, and left the shepherds alone. [Illustration] [Illustration: THE SHEPHERDS VISIT JESUS.] The Shepherds Visit Jesus. WHAT would you do if you had been one of those shepherds to whom the angels brought the good news of Jesus' birth? I will tell you what they did. They left their sheep to take care of themselves, and hurried off to Bethlehem, for that was the city the angels meant. [Illustration] They went in the gate and at last found the right place. It was called a stable. They soon found the dear little baby Jesus, just as the angels had said, lying in a manger, and Mary his mother and Joseph taking care of him. The little manger was in the stable, and there the shepherds stood beside it and looked into the face of the babe. Do you think the dear little baby had a nice bed to lie in? It looked like a block hollowed out. It was the box out of which the cows ate. It was warm and soft, because his mother had put nice soft hay in it, and wrapped him all up with a long strip of cloth. They were in a stable because so many people were in the city that there was not a bit of room left. I think it must have been a clean place, with lots of nice, sweet new hay. When the shepherds saw the baby they knew that he was really Jesus their Savior. They knelt at his feet and worshiped him. They were so happy that they could hardly say what they felt. They soon went away and told the good news to every one they met. They were very glad because Jesus had come. He came as a little baby so he would know how to love and help all other babies and little children, and be an example for them to follow as they grew older. We are glad Jesus came, and we love to keep his birthday, because he gives us joy and peace, fills our hearts with love, and helps us to be good and happy here and to get ready to be happy in heaven. God, our Father in heaven, sent to us this wonderful Christmas Gift. Think of the great love he must have for us, to give us his Son. Think of the great love Jesus had for us, that he could leave his beautiful home in heaven to come and help us and show us how to live. Let us thank him every day for his great love. "For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son" to be our Savior. [Illustration: THE BABY JESUS IN THE TEMPLE.] The Child in the Temple. JOSEPH, and Mary the mother of Jesus, stayed in Bethlehem for a while. When Jesus was only eight days old he received his name; he was called "Jesus," as the angel had told Mary. It was the custom of the Jews to take their first son to the temple and present him to God, so Joseph and Mary went to Jerusalem to present Jesus to God in the temple. [Illustration] At the time when Jesus was born, there was an old man, named Simeon, living in Jerusalem. He was a good man and was looking and wishing for Jesus, the promised Messiah, to come. God's Holy Spirit had told him that he should not die until he had seen Jesus. Simeon went up to the temple to worship God every day. One day while he was in the temple Mary and Joseph brought the child to present him to God. When Simeon saw them he knew that the infant in Mary's arms was his Savior. He at once took Jesus in his arms, and with a heart full of joy he blessed God and said, "Lord, now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace." He had seen the Savior for whom he looked, and had nothing more to wish; he was perfectly satisfied to die, now that he had seen Jesus, the Savior of the world. When Jesus comes into our hearts we are satisfied, and not only ready to die, but we are ready to live and do with glad hearts all that God wishes us to do. The best way to praise God for his wonderful gift is to _live for him_ and lead others to praise him. [Illustration] God's Spirit was upon Simeon, and he rejoiced to see Jesus his Savior, whom God had sent to his people. Do you wonder that Simeon's heart was full of joy at seeing God's greatest gift to man? Should not we praise him for it? At the time of Jesus' birth, the world was very dark and sinful. People did not know much about God or what he wanted them to do. In Jesus, Simeon saw a great Light which would lighten the world. Did you ever try to walk in a dark night where there were no lights to shine on the pathway? If so, you were sure to go the wrong road, or to stumble and fall. While you were walking in the darkness, did a great electric light suddenly shine out, making all light about you? So into the dark lives of the people Jesus came to be a Light. We are sure that Jesus is a Light to us and to all the world. He lived a holy life, so he made a right path for us to follow. He showed us how to live and how to die, so that we may live forever in heaven. If we take his love into our hearts and do as he tells us, we shall walk in the light. Just as a railway locomotive runs in the great light from the lamp that sends its bright rays along the track, so Jesus dwelling in our hearts shines his light just where we are to travel--that is, he tells us by his Spirit and by his Word how we are to act and what we are to do. [Illustration] While Mary and Joseph and Jesus were yet in the temple, Anna, a prophetess, came in and saw Jesus. Then she, too, praised the Lord because Jesus had come to be a Light to the world. She told the people that Jesus was the Son of God who had come into this world to live in our hearts and be our Light. Jesus in our hearts is like a torchlight which we carry with us always, and which never goes out, but gives us light wherever we go. We follow this light when we do the things that Jesus taught us to do, and when we follow the example that he left us. [Illustration] [Illustration: THE WISE MEN VISIT JESUS.] The Journey of the Wise Men. THERE were some very rich, wise men living away off in another country. God wanted them to know about his Son. He did not send angels to tell them; he took another way. He put a strange new star in the sky. These wise men spent a great deal of time studying about stars, so when they saw this they were very much interested in it. When they saw strange stars they thought strange things would happen. They had heard that the Jews were looking for Jesus to come and be their king, so they thought this star must mean that he had come. They thought very likely that he had come to Jerusalem, for that was the great city of the Jews. So they started on their long journey. [Illustration] They traveled on until they reached Jerusalem. Then they went at once to Herod the king and asked him where Jesus was who was born King of the Jews. Herod had not heard that Jesus was born, and when he heard this question he was troubled, for he was not born king--he had been made king. So he was very much afraid that Jesus, who was born King, would take his place. He called in the Jews, who he thought ought to know, and asked them to find out where Jesus was to be born. They looked in the Bible and found that he was to be born in Bethlehem. When Herod heard this he told the wise men to go to Bethlehem and look for Jesus, and when they found him to bring him word so that he might go and worship him. He wanted to kill Jesus, but he did not tell the wise men so. They again started out, and they were very much pleased to see the same star still shining in the sky. [Illustration] This star went before them to guide them to Bethlehem. They believed the star would guide them right, so they followed it until it stood over a house in the city. [Illustration] [Illustration: THE WISE MEN'S GIFTS.] The Wise Men's Gifts to Jesus. WHEN the wise men went into the house they found Jesus there with Mary, his mother, and Joseph, her husband. [Illustration] As soon as they saw him they knew it was Jesus, whom they had come so far to see. They fell down before him and worshiped him. They brought him rich gifts of gold, frankincense and myrrh. These gifts of gold, frankincense and myrrh were costly and useful; they must have been of great help to Mary and Joseph, who were very poor. These gifts from the wise men to Jesus showed their love for him. Those who truly love Jesus now will be glad to give of their money to help the poor and needy, and to teach those who do not know about him; and what we do for his sake he counts as done for him. But the greatest gift that we can give Jesus is the gift of our hearts. While they were there worshiping Jesus, God was looking into the heart of Herod, reading his wicked thoughts. He knew that if the wise men went back and told Herod where Jesus was, he would come and kill him. So when the wise men were ready to go away, God warned them in a dream to go back another way and not to go near Jerusalem, where they would meet Herod. They believed God in this too, and did as he told them to. [Illustration: ON THE WAY TO EGYPT.] The Flight into Egypt. [Illustration] WHEN the wise men were gone, God sent an angel to warn Joseph to take Jesus and Mary, his mother, and leave Bethlehem. He told him to take them to Egypt and stay there until he told them they might return. Why do you suppose God told Joseph to leave their home? He knew that Herod wanted to kill Jesus, and that it would be dangerous to stay there. If they went to Egypt they would be safe, for Herod had no power over Egypt. They would find friends there too, for a great many Jews were living in Egypt then. Joseph loved God and believed him, so he proved that he loved and believed him by obeying at once. He did not wait until morning, but at once arose, got ready, and took Mary and Jesus and they started in the night for Egypt. They did not go to some other place instead. They went just when God told them to go, and went just where he told them to; and they were safe while they followed God's directions. Jesus was soon safe in Egypt. Herod did not know this, and was still making his plans to kill him. He was a very wicked, cruel man. He was wicked enough to kill two of his own sons, so you see he did not care much about killing a baby. He did not know just how old Jesus was, but thought he could not be over two years old. He did not know where he lived, for the wise men did not go back to tell him. But he was bound to kill Jesus, so he told his cruel soldiers to go into every house in Bethlehem, even into the houses near Bethlehem, and kill every boy baby they could find two years old or less. [Illustration] So they went around killing all the baby boys. They would go into a house, snatch the baby out of its crib, or out of its mother's arms, and kill it right before her eyes. That was a sad time in Bethlehem; for many poor mothers were weeping for their children. It was very sad for the mothers, but the little boys were safe in heaven with God. God was still watching over and taking care of his Son; so when at last Herod was dead, God again sent an angel to Joseph, telling him to take Jesus and Mary and go back to the land of Israel, or the land of the Jews. So Joseph again set out on a journey. But he heard that Herod's son was king, and he was afraid to go back to Bethlehem, so he went to Nazareth. [Illustration] [Illustration: THE BOY JESUS IN THE TEMPLE.] Jesus in the Temple. WHEN Jesus was a very little baby, his mother took him to the temple, their church, and gave him to the Lord. I suppose they wrote down his name, as we do our Cradle Roll babies. If they did, I think we may call Jesus a Cradle Roll baby. I am sure that Mary and Joseph did all they could to help the baby to grow up a good, wise, loving boy. The dear little babies do not stay babies long; then their toys go and they want books, for they must learn a great deal before they are grown-up men and women. So Jesus' toys were soon put away, and he began to study just as you do. He grew bigger and stronger every day. At last he was as big as you; then bigger, until he was as big as your brother or sister. [Illustration] Do you know someone who is twelve years old? At last Jesus got to be so old. At that age a boy was no longer a Cradle Roll baby, nor even a child. Jesus' mother said that now he could go with her and Joseph and their friends when they went up to Jerusalem to church. Did you ever go on a journey? How did you go? On the cars. Were you glad to go? You got tired, I know. A picture of Joseph and Mary and Jesus on their way to Jerusalem would show you that they all walked. It was a long, hard journey, for they not only had to walk all the way, but they had to carry all their bundles. They went in a company, so they had a nice time talking with their friends as they walked. Then when tired or hungry, they would stop by the way in the shade of some great rocks--for in that land rocks are found oftener than shade trees. You can make a picture of this journey in your mind. Think of the wall of the city of Jerusalem and the open gate; inside the wall is the church, or temple; there is a road of sand, and on both sides of the road are a few trees and a good many rocks. At last they all reached the city, and slept and rested and ate their food, then bathed and dressed in their best clothes, and went to the temple to worship God and hear about his law out of the Bible. All this was very wonderful and beautiful to Jesus. He began to understand that God was his Father, and that he had some very great work to do in the world. He was so interested that when it was time to start for home he stayed after all the rest left, and went back to the temple. Perhaps he had been allowed to go by himself and did not know they had started home. Mary did not miss Jesus for some time. She thought he was with his young friends having a good time. At last she became frightened, for she found that he was not with any of these friends. Oh, how frightened she was! Her beautiful boy that she loved more than her own life, was lost! I once knew of a very lovely boy who was lost all night. How his mother cried, and how we looked for him all night! In the morning his mother was the one to find him, then her sorrow was changed to joy. [Illustration] Mary and Joseph left their friends and went back to the city. In her heart Jesus' mother knew where to look for him. Can you think where he was? They found him in the temple talking with the teachers. They were talking about God's law. They had their books, reading and studying together. These books were made of strips of parchment or paper fastened at both ends to round sticks and rolled up. [Illustration] When Jesus saw his mother and knew how she had grieved about him, he left the teachers at once and went back home with her and Joseph. He told them that he knew God was his Father, and that he must be about his work. But quickly and lovingly he obeyed his mother and went with her, even though he longed to stay. Do you think Jesus was about his heavenly Father's business when he obeyed Mary and Joseph and went home so lovingly with them? He surely was, for some of his work that he came to earth to do was to show children how to treat their parents. One of the great laws of God is, "Children, obey your parents." Jesus loved to be in the temple, but he quickly and cheerfully went home with his mother and Joseph. I think that as he and his parents were with many of their dear friends, he was allowed to go around among them and with them when they went to the temple, so when his parents left he perhaps did not really know when his mother started. Do you think she was careless to go off and leave him? No, I am sure she was not; she no doubt thought he was coming along with his aunts or cousins or his little friends in the company. [Illustration: THE BOY JESUS IN HIS HOME.] Jesus in His Home. DO you like cold, dark, stormy days? How do you feel when you get up and find the sun shining in your window? You cannot help feeling good--some of it gets into your heart and makes you feel happy. You make us think of sunny days. Sometimes children are cross, and they make us think of stormy days. The gloomy, naughty, selfish child makes everything in the house seem sad. But how about the bright, happy, laughing, helpful child? When he comes into the room, it seems as if he brought some sunshine in. He is a sunshiny boy. Do you know I am thinking of a boy who I believe was the sunshiniest one among all the sunshiny children in the world. Who was he? He was Jesus, the dear boy who was so ready to obey his parents. He started home with Mary and Joseph, perhaps telling Joseph all about how it happened that he was left behind them. [Illustration] After their long, hard journey, how glad they were to get home! I am sure Jesus did all he could to get everything ready. First he helped Joseph bring in all the things they had with them, and Mary stood, at the door of the little house, looking at the boy she loved so much, and feeling so glad and thankful that he had not really been lost. [Illustration] Then when they were all settled and rested and Joseph had to go to his carpenter work, Jesus would do such little things as he could to help him, while Mary was doing her work. Joseph was a carpenter. What do you think he made? What tools did he use? Then I think Jesus must have learned to use them, too. Perhaps sometimes Mary was sick, and then I am sure he did all he could to help and comfort her and make her forget her pain. He would bring the jar of fresh water, bathe her head and give her a cool drink. If your mamma was sick, what could you do to be a blessing to her? I knew a little boy who was a real sunshine boy. When mamma was sick he would set the table for papa, and hand mamma a cup of tea, and give her a smile and a loving kiss. We can all do so much, and many other things. Think of some of them. You can pick up your toys and books and keep them tidy, without waiting for mamma to talk about it; you can always run to her with a loving kiss when you wake up and when you go to bed; you can be very gentle and kind to your little brothers and sisters; you can try every day in every way to make sunshine in your home--to make your home the most beautiful place in the world. Boys and girls who do that can make their homes next to heaven. [Illustration] Jesus did that even when he was very small. As he grew older he grew wiser and better. He helped Joseph more and more in his shop, and what he did not know, Joseph taught him. He did not spend all his time in the shop, He perhaps went to school, for he loved to study. I think Mary loved to teach a boy who was so ready to learn. He would stand beside her while she read to him. [Illustration] He liked to play like other boys, but he always did the things that other children should do, so they would know just what was right. That is why I tell you so much about him. Perhaps children would not know just the right way, if Jesus had not been a boy and lived with his mother and loved and obeyed and helped her. Around the Throne. Around the throne of God in heaven, Thousands of children stand, Children whose sins are all forgiven, A holy, happy band. What brought them to that world above, That heaven so bright and fair, Where all is peace and joy and love? How came those children there? On earth they sought the Savior's grace, On earth they loved his name; So now they see his blessed face, And stand before the Lamb. --_Annie H. Shepherd._ * * * * * Transcriber's Notes: Page 27, repeated word "him" removed from text. Original read: (praise him him for it) 
45540	----	THE CHRIST MYTH BY ARTHUR DREWS, Ph.D. PROFESSOR OF PHILOSOPHY IN THE TECHN. HOCHSCHULE, KARLSRUHE TRANSLATED FROM THE THIRD EDITION (REVISED AND ENLARGED) BY C. DELISLE BURNS, M.A. T. FISHER UNWIN LONDON: 1 ADELPHI TERRACE LEIPZIC: INSELSTRASSE 20 TO MY FRIEND WILHELM VON SCHNEHEN PREFACE TO THE FIRST AND SECOND EDITIONS Since David Frederick Strauss, in his "Life of Jesus," attempted for the first time to trace the Gospel stories and accounts of miracles back to myths and pious fictions, doubts regarding the existence of an historical Jesus have never been lulled to rest. Bruno Bauer also in his "Kritik der evangelischen Geschichte und der Synoptiker" (1841-42, 2nd ed. 1846), [1] disputed the historical existence of Jesus; later, in his "Christ und die Cäsaren, der Ursprung des Christentums aus dem römischen Griechentum" (1877), he attempted to show that the life of Jesus was a pure invention of the first evangelist, Mark, and to account for the whole Christian religion from the Stoic and Alexandrine culture of the second century, ascribing to Seneca especially a material influence upon the development of the Christian point of view. But it was reserved for the present day, encouraged by the essentially negative results of the so-called critical theology, to take up the subject energetically, and thereby to attain to results even bolder and more startling. In England John M. Robertson, in "Christianity and Mythology" (1900), in "A Short History of Christianity" (1902), as well as in his work "Pagan Christs: Studies in Comparative Hierology" (1903), has traced the picture of Christ in the Gospels to a mixture of mythological elements in heathenism and Judaism. In France, as early as the end of the eighteenth century, Dupuis ("L'origine de tous les cultes," 1795) and Voltaire ("Les Ruines," 1791) traced back the essential points of the history of the Christian redemption to astral myths, while Émile Burnouf ("La science des religions," 4th ed., 1885) and Hochart ("Études d'histoire religieuse," 1890) collected important material for the clearing up of the origin of Christianity, and by their results cast considerable doubt upon the existence of an historical Christ. In Italy Milesbo (Emilio Bossi) has attempted to prove the non-historicity of Jesus in his book "Gesù Christo non è mai esistito" (1904). In Holland the Leyden Professor of Philosophy, Bolland, handled the same matter in a series of works ("Het Lijden en Sterven van Jezus Christus," 1907; "De Achtergrond der Evangeliën. Eene Bijdrage tot de kennis van de Wording des Christendoms," 1907; "De evangelische Jozua. Eene poging tot aanwijzing van den oorsprong des Christendoms," 1907). In Poland the mythical character of the story of Jesus has been shown by Andrzej Niemojewski in his book "Bóg Jezus" (1909), which rests on the astral-mythological theories of Dupuis and the school of Winckler. In Germany the Bremen Pastor Kalthoff, in his work, "Das Christusproblem, Grundlinien zu einer Sozialtheologie" (1903), thought that the appearance of the Christian religion could be accounted for without the help of an historical Jesus, simply from a social movement of the lower classes under the Empire, subsequently attempting to remove the one-sidedness of this view by his work "Die Entstehung des Christentums. Neue Beiträge zum Christusproblem" (1904). (Cf. also his work "Was wissen wir von Jesus? Eine Abrechnung mit Professor D. Bousset," 1904.) A supplement to the works of Kalthoff in question is furnished by Fr. Steudel in "Das Christusproblem und die Zukunft des Protestantismus" (Deutsche Wiedergeburt, 1909). Finally, the American, William Benjamin Smith, in his work, "The Pre-Christian Jesus" (1906), has thrown so clear a light upon a number of important points in the rise of Christianity, and elucidated so many topics which give us a deeper insight into the actual correlation of events, that we gradually commence to see clearly in this connection. "The time is passed," says Jülicher, "when among the learned the question could be put whether an 'historical' Jesus existed at all." [2] The literature cited does not appear to justify this assertion. On the contrary, that time seems only commencing. Indeed, an unprejudiced judge might find that even Jülicher's own essay, in which he treated of the so-called founder of the Christian religion in the "Kultur der Gegenwart," and in which he declared it "tasteless" to look upon the contents of the Gospels as a myth, speaks rather against than for the historical reality of Jesus. For the rest, official learning in Germany, and especially theology, has, up to the present, remained, we may almost say, wholly unmoved by all the above-mentioned publications. To my mind it has not yet taken up a serious position regarding Robertson. Its sparing citations of his "Pagan Christs" do not give the impression that there can be any talk of its having a real knowledge of his expositions. [3] It has, moreover, passed Kalthoff over with the mien of a better informed superiority or preferably with silent scorn, and up to the present it has avoided with care any thoroughgoing examination of Smith. [4] And yet such a distinguished theologian as Professor Paul Schmiedel, of Zürich, who furnished a foreword to Smith's work, laid such an examination upon his colleagues as a "duty of all theologians making any claim to a scientific temper," and strongly warned them against any under-estimation of Smith's highly scientific work! "How can one then confidently stand by his former views," Schmiedel cries to his theological colleagues, "unless he investigates whether they have not in whole or in part been undermined by these new opinions? Or is it a question of some secondary matter merely, and not rather of exactly what for the majority forms the fundamental part of their Christian conviction? But if these new opinions are so completely futile, then it must be an easy matter, indeed a mere nothing, to show this." In the meantime there are many voices which speak out against the existence of an historical Jesus. In wide circles the doubt grows as to the historical character of the picture of Christ given in the Gospels. Popular works written with a purpose, such as the investigations of the Frenchman Jacolliot, worked up by Plange into "Jesus ein Inder" (1898), have to serve to alleviate this thirst for knowledge and confuse views more than they clear them. In a short work, "Die Entstehung des Christentums" (1905), Promus has afforded a brief résumé of the most important matter bearing on the point, without any working up of it on its own account, and attacked the existence of an historical Jesus. Lately Karl Voller, the prematurely deceased Jena Orientalist, in his valuable work, "Die Weltreligionen in ihrem geschichtlichen Zusammenhange" (1907), voiced the opinion "that weighty reasons favour this radical myth interpretation, and that no absolutely decisive arguments for the historicity of the person of Jesus can be brought forward" (op. cit. i. 163). Another Orientalist, P. Jensen, in his work "Das Gilgamesch-Epos in der Weltliteratur" (1906), even thinks that he can show that both the main lines of the Old Testament story and the whole narrative of the life of Jesus given in the Gospels are simply variations of the Babylonian Gilgamesh Epic (about 2000 B.C.), and consequently a pure myth. [5] While criticism of the Gospel documents is advancing more boldly and always leaving in existence less of an historical Jesus, the number of works in popular religious literature intended to glorify Jesus the man grows enormously. These endeavour to make up for the deficiency in certain historical material by sentimental phrases and the deep tone of conviction; indeed, the rhetoric which is disseminated with this design [6] seems to find more sympathy in proportion as it works with less historical restraint. And yet learning as such has long come to the point when the historical Jesus threatens to disappear from under its hands. The latest results in the province of Oriental mythology and religion, the advances in the comparative history of religion, that are associated in England with the names of Frazer and Robertson especially, and in Germany with those of Winckler, Jeremias, Gunkel, Jensen, &c., have so much increased our knowledge of the religious position of Nearer Asia in the last century before Christ, that we are no longer obliged to rely exclusively upon the Gospels and the other books of the New Testament for the rise of Christianity. [7] The critical and historical theology of Protestantism has itself thrown so deep a light upon the origins of the Christian religion that the question as to the historical existence of Jesus loses all paradox which hitherto may have attached to it in the eyes of many. So, too, Protestant theology no longer has any grounds for becoming excited if the question is answered in a sense opposed to its own answer. The author of the present work had hoped until lately that one of the historians of Christianity would himself arise and extract the present results of the criticisms of the Gospel, which to-day are clear. These hopes have not been fulfilled. On the contrary, in theological circles religious views continue to be quietly drawn from the "fact" of an historical Jesus, and he is considered as the impassable height in the religious development of the individual, as though nothing has occurred and the existence of such a Jesus was only the more clearly established by the investigations of critical theology in this connection. The author has accordingly thought that he should no longer keep back his own views, which he long since arrived at out of the works of specialists, and has taken upon himself the thankless task of bringing together the grounds which tell against the theory of an historical Jesus. Whoever, though not a specialist, invades the province of any science, and ventures to express an opinion opposed to its official representatives, must be prepared to be rejected by them with anger, to be accused of a lack of scholarship, "dilettantism," or "want of method," and to be treated as a complete ignoramus. This has been the experience of all up to now who, while not theologians, have expressed themselves on the subject of an historical Jesus. The like experience was not spared the author of the present work after the appearance of its first edition. He has been accused of "lack of historical training," "bias," "incapacity for any real historical way of thinking," &c., and it has been held up against him that in his investigations their result was settled beforehand--as if this was not precisely the case with theologians, who write on the subject of a historical Jesus, since it is just the task of theology to defend and establish the truth of the New Testament writings. Whoever has looked about him in the turmoil of science knows that generally each fellow-worker is accustomed to regard as "method" that only which he himself uses as such, and that the famous conception of "scientific method" is very often ruled by points of view purely casual and personal. [8] Thus, for example, we see the theologian Clemen, in his investigation into the method of explaining the New Testament on religious-historical lines, seriously put the question to himself whether one "could not dispense himself from refuting such books as finally arrive at the unauthenticity of all the Pauline epistles and the non-historicity of the whole, or at least of almost the whole, tradition concerning Jesus; for example, not only that of Bauer, but also those of Jensen and Smith." This same Clemen advances the famous methodological axiom: "An explanation on religious-historical lines is impossible if it of necessity leads to untenable consequences or sets out from such hypotheses," [9] obviously thinking here of the denial of an historical Christ. For the rest, the "method" of "critical theology" consists, as is well known, in applying an already settled picture of Jesus to the Gospels and undertaking the critical sifting of their contents according to this measure. This picture makes the founder of the Christian religion merely a pious preacher of morality in the sense of present-day liberalism, the "representative of the noblest individuality," the incarnation of the modern ideal of personality, or of some other fashionable theological view. Theologians commence with the conviction that the historical Jesus was a kind of "anticipation of modern religious consciousness." They think that they discern the real historical import of the Gospels in their "moral-religious kernel" so far as this is good for all time, and they arrive in this manner at its "strictly scientific conception" of Jesus by casting out all such features as do not fit this picture, thus recognising only the "everlasting human" and the "modern" as historical. [10] If one keeps this before his eyes he will not be particularly moved by the talk about "method" and "lack of scientific system." One could then at most wonder that it should be forbidden to philosophers particularly to have a say in theological matters. As though the peace at present reigning between philosophy and theology and their mutual efforts at a rapprochement did not clearly indicate that upon one of the two sides, or upon both, something cannot be in order, and that consequently it was high time, if no one else undertakes it, for a philosopher to notice theology in order to terminate the make-believe peace which is for both so fateful. For what does Lessing say? "With orthodoxy God be thanked one had arrived at a tolerable understanding. Between it and philosophy a partition had been raised behind which each could continue its way without hindering the other. But what is now being done? The partition is again being demolished, and under the pretext of making us reasonable Christians we are being made unreasonable philosophers." The author of this book has been reproached with following in it tendencies merely destructive. Indeed, one guardian of Zion, particularly inflamed with rage, has even expressed himself to this effect, that the author's researches do not originate in a serious desire for knowledge, but only in a wish to deny. One who, as I have done, has in all his previous work emphasised the positive nature of the ethical and religious life against the denying and destroying spirit of the age, who has in his work "Die Religion als Selbst-Bewusstsein Gottes" (1906) sought to build up anew from within the shattered religious outlook upon the world, who in the last chapter of the present work has left no doubt remaining that he regards the present falling away of religious consciousness as one of the most important phenomena of our spiritual life and as a misfortune for our whole civilisation, should be protected against such reproaches. In reality, "The Christ Myth" has been written pre-eminently in the interests of religion, from the conviction that its previous forms no longer suffice for men of to-day, that above all the "Jesuanism" of historical theology is in its deepest nature irreligious, and that this itself forms the greatest hindrance to all real religious progress. I agree with E. v. Hartmann and W. v. Schnehen in the opinion that this so-called Christianity of the liberal pastors is in every direction full of internal contradiction, that it is false through and through (in so saying naturally no individual representative of this movement is accused of subjective untruthfulness). I agree that by its moving rhetoric and its bold appearance of being scientific it is systematically undermining the simple intellectual truthfulness of our people; and that on this account this romantic cult of Jesus must be combated at all costs, but that this cannot be done more effectually than by taking its basis in the theory of the historical Jesus [11] from beneath its feet. This work seeks to prove that more or less all the features of the picture of the historical Jesus, at any rate all those of any important religious significance, bear a purely mythical character, and no opening exists for seeking an historical figure behind the Christ myth. It is not the imagined historical Jesus but, if any one, Paul who is that "great personality" that called Christianity into life as a new religion, and by the speculative range of his intellect and the depth of his moral experience gave it the strength for its journey, the strength which bestowed upon it victory over the other competing religions. Without Jesus the rise of Christianity can be quite well understood, without Paul not so. If in spite of this any one thinks that besides the latter a Jesus also cannot be dispensed with, this can naturally not be opposed; but we know nothing of this Jesus. Even in the representations of historical theology he is scarcely more than the shadow of a shadow. Consequently it is self-deceit to make the figure of this "unique" and "mighty" personality, to which a man may believe he must on historical grounds hold fast, the central point of religious consciousness. Jesus Christ may be great and worthy of reverence as a religious idea, as the symbolical personification of the unity of nature in God and man, on the belief in which the possibility of the "redemption" depends. As a purely historical individual, as liberal theology views him, he sinks back to the level of other great historical personalities, and from the religious point of view is exactly as unessential as they, indeed, more capable of being dispensed with than they, for in spite of all rhetoric he is in the light of historical theology of to-day, even at best only "a figure swimming obscurely in the mists of tradition." [12] PROFESSOR DR. ARTHUR DREWS. Karlsruhe, January, 1910. PREFACE TO THE THIRD EDITION The time since the appearance of the second edition was too short for any material alterations to be undertaken in the third edition now appearing. However, the phraseology here and there has been improved and many things put more strongly. Above all, the famous passage in Tacitus and the passage 1 Cor. ii. 23 et seq. has been so handled that its lack of significance as regards the existence of an historical Jesus should now appear more clearly than hitherto. That Paul in reality is not a witness for an historical Jesus and is wrongly considered as the "foundation" of the faith in such a figure, should be already established for every unprejudiced person as the result of the discussion so far on the "Christ Myth." The Protestantenblatt finds itself now compelled to the admission that the historical image of the person of Jesus as a matter of fact "can no longer be clearly recognised" (No. 6, 1910). How then does it fare with the new "bases" of Schmiedel? To no refutation of the assertions which I represent has greater significance been hitherto ascribed on the theological side than to those supposed supports of a "really scientific life of Jesus" (in the discussions of "the Christ Myth" this has again received the strongest expression). And yet these bases were advanced by their originator obviously with a view to a conception quite different from mine, and, as I have now shown, do not affect, generally speaking, the view represented by me regarding the rise of the supposed historical picture of Jesus. When, above all, the "historical references to Jesus" are supposed to be contained in them, and these, according to the Protestantenblatt, lie "like blocks of granite" in my path--then this is a pure illusion of the theologians. As can be conceived, my assertion that a pre-Christian cult of Jesus existed has found the most decisive rejection. This, however, is for the most part only due to the fact that the researches in this connection of the American, Smith, and the Englishman, Robertson, were not known, and, moreover, the opinion was held that one need not trouble about these "foreigners," who further were not "specialists." And yet Gunkel, in his work "Zum religionsgeschichtlichen Verständnis des Neuen Testaments," had already sufficiently prepared that view, as one might have thought, when, among other things, he declares "that even before Jesus there existed in Jewish syncretistic circles a belief in the death and resurrection of Christ." [13] Again, it can only be rejected without more ado by such as seek the traces of the pre-Christian cult of Jesus in well-worn places and will only allow that to be "proved" which they have established by direct original documentary evidence before their eyes. In this connection it is forgotten that we are dealing with a secret cult, the existence of which we can decide upon only by indirect means. It is forgotten also that the hypothesis of a pre-Christian cult of Jesus, if urged upon us from another quarter, cannot be forthwith rejected because it does not suit the current views, and because it may be that it is impossible for the time being to place it beyond all doubt. Where everything is so hypothetical, uncertain, and covered with darkness, as is the case with the origins of Christianity, every hypothesis should be welcomed and tested which appears to be in some way or the other suitable for opening up a new point of view and clearing away the darkness. For as Dunkmann says in his sympathetic and genuine discussion of "The Christ Myth": "Irregularities and even violences of combination must be borne in science for the simple reason that our sources are too scanty and full of contradictions. Our hypotheses will in all such cases have something rash, bold, and surprising in them; if even they are in the main correct, i.e., if they are irrefutable according to the method of investigation" ("Der historische Jesus, der mythologische Jesus, und Jesus der Christ," 1910, 55). But if that very hypothesis is not established, yet this makes no difference in the fact that there existed a pre-Christian Jesus Christ, at least as a complex myth, and this quite suffices for the explanation of the Pauline Christology and the so-called "original community" of Jerusalem. I can, accordingly, only regard it as a misleading of the public when the other side, after rejecting the hypothesis of a pre-Christian cult of Jesus, bear themselves as though they had thereby taken away the foundations for the whole body of my views regarding an historical Jesus. Meanwhile the storm which has been raised against my book in theological circles and in the Press, and has even led to mass meetings of protest in the Busch Circus and in the Dom at Berlin, shows me that I have "hit the bull's-eye" with my performance and have in truth touched the sore point of Christianity. The way in which the battle is being waged, the means by which my opponents attempt to disparage the author of "The Christ Myth," or to make me ridiculous in the eyes of the public by personal slanders, their habit of trying to injure me by throwing doubt on my intellectual capabilities, and to undermine my scientific honour and official position (Bornemann, Beth)--all this can only make me more determined to continue the work of illumination that I have begun, and only proves to me that my "Christ Myth" cannot be so absolutely "unscientific" and so completely a quantité négligeable as its opponents are disposed to represent it. The means by which the "Christ Myth" is opposed to-day are exactly the same as those which were employed against Strauss's "Leben Jesu," without, however, the least result being attained. I accordingly await the further attacks of the enemy with complete coolness of mind, confident in the fact that what is true in my book will make its way of itself, and that a work which, like mine, has arisen from serious motives, and has been carried through with a disregard of personal advantages, cannot be lost but will be serviceable to the spiritual progress of mankind. The attacks which have so far come to my notice in pamphlets (Bornemann, v. Soden, Delbrück, Beth) and in the Press have not had the effect of making any weaker my fundamental convictions. On the contrary, they have only served to reveal to me still further the weakness of the opposing position, which is much greater than I myself had hitherto imagined. I am, however, at all times ready and pleased--and I have shown this too by the corrections undertaken since the first edition of this work--to give attention to real objections and to put right possible errors. All that matters to me is simply the fact as such. The question before us in "The Christ Myth," as it is not unnecessary to point out here once again, is a purely scientific one. For possible suggestions and advice in this direction I will accordingly at all times be grateful. On the contrary, I am left perfectly cold by personal slanders, anonymous threats, and pious corrections, meetings of protest in which the Minister of Public Worship takes part with obbligato trombone choirs and professions of faith, as well as by the uproar of the multitude roused to fanaticism in this manner by the "guardian of their souls." They are everything except refutations. PROFESSOR DR. ARTHUR DREWS. Karlsruhe, March, 1910. CONTENTS PAGE Preface to the First and Second Editions 7 Preface to the Third Edition 21 THE PRE-CHRISTIAN JESUS 29 I. The Influence of Parseeism on the Belief in a Messiah 37 II. The Hellenistic Idea of a Mediator (Philo) 46 III. Jesus as Cult-God in the Creed of Jewish Sects 51 IV. The Sufferings of the Messiah 64 V. The Birth of the Messiah. The Baptism 88 VI. The Self-Offering of the Messiah. The Supper 128 VII. Symbols of the Messiah. The Lamb and the Cross 140 THE CHRISTIAN JESUS 163 I. The Pauline Jesus 165 II. The Jesus of the Gospels 214 a. The Synoptic Jesus 214 Jesus in Secular Literature 230 b. The Objections against a Denial of the Historicity of the Synoptic Jesus 235 c. The True Character of the Synoptic Jesus 265 d. Gnosticism and the Johannine Jesus 273 THE RELIGIOUS PROBLEM OF THE PRESENT 283 THE CHRIST MYTH THE PRE-CHRISTIAN JESUS "If you see a man undaunted by dangers, undisturbed by passions, happy when fortune frowns, calm in the midst of storms, will you not be filled with reverence for him? Will you not say that here is something too great and grand to be regarded as of the same nature as the trivial body in which it dwells? A divine force has descended here--a heavenly power moves a soul so wonderful, so calm, one which passes through all life as though it were of small account, and smiles at all our hopes and fears. Nothing so great can exist without the help of God, and therefore in the main it belongs to that from which it came down. Just as the rays of the sun touch the earth, but belong to that from which they are sent, so a great and holy spirit, sent here that we may have a more intimate knowledge of deity, lives indeed in our midst, but remains in contact with its source. On that it depends, thither its eyes are turned, thither its life tends: among men it dwells as a noble guest. What then is this soul? One which relies upon no goodness but its own. What is proper to man is his soul and the perfect reason in the soul: for man is a rational animal: therefore his highest good is reached when he is filled with that of which he is born." With these words the Roman philosopher Seneca (4 B.C.-65 A.D.) portrays the ideally great and good man that we may be moved to imitate him. [14] "We must choose some good man," he says, "and always have him before our eyes; and we must live and act as if he were watching us. A great number of sins would remain uncommitted were there a witness present to those about to sin. Our heart must have someone whom it honours, and by whose example its inner life can be inspired. Happy is he whose reverence for another enables him to fashion his life after the picture living in his memory. We need some one upon whose life we may model our own: without the rule you cannot correct what is amiss" (Ep. 11). "Rely on the mind of a great man and detach yourself from the opinions of the mob. Hold fast to the image of the most beautiful and exalted virtue, which must be worshipped not with crowns but with sweat and blood" (Ep. 67). "Could we but gaze upon the soul of a good man, what a beautiful picture should we see, how worthy of our reverence in its loftiness and peace. There would justice shine forth and courage and prudence and wisdom: and humanity, that rare virtue, would pour its light over all. Every one would declare him worthy of honour and of love. If any one saw that face, more lofty and splendid than any usually found among men, would he not stand in dumb wonder as before a God, and silently pray that it might be for his good to have seen it? Then, overcome by the inviting grace of the vision, he would kneel in prayer, and after long meditation, filled with wondering awe, he would break forth into Virgil's words: 'Hail to thee, whoe'er thou art! O lighten thou our cares!' There is no one, I repeat, who would not be inflamed with love were it given him to gaze upon such an ideal. Now indeed much obscures our vision: but if we would only make our eyes pure and remove the veil that covers them, we should be able to behold virtue even though covered by the body, and clouded by poverty, lowliness and shame. We should see its loveliness even through the most sordid veils" (Ep. 115). The attitude expressed in these words was widespread in the whole of the civilised world at the beginning of the Christian era. A feeling of the uncertainty of all things human weighed like a ghastly dream upon most minds. The general distress of the time, the collapse of the nation states under the rough hand of the Roman conquerors, the loss of independence, the uncertainty of political and social conditions, the incessant warfare and the heavy death-roll it involved--all this forced men back upon their own inner life, and compelled them to seek there for some support against the loss of outer happiness in a philosophy which raised and invigorated the soul. But the ancient philosophy had spent itself. The naïve interplay of nature and spirit, that ingenuous trust in external reality which had been the expression of a youthful vigour in the Mediterranean peoples, from which indeed the ancient civilisation was derived, now was shattered. To the eyes of men at that time Nature and Spirit stood opposed as hostile and irreconcilable facts. All efforts to restore the shattered unity were frustrated by the impossibility of regaining the primitive attitude. A fruitless scepticism which satisfied no one, but out of which no way was known, paralysed all joy in outward or inner activities, and prevented men from having any pleasure in life. Therefore all eyes were turned towards a supernatural support, a direct divine enlightenment, a revelation; and the desire arose of finding once again the lost certainty in the ordering of life by dependence upon an ideal and superhuman being. Many saw in the exalted person of the Emperor the incarnation of such a divine being. It was not then always pure flattery, but often enough the expression of real gratitude towards individual Imperial benefactors, combined with a longing for direct proximity with and visible presence of a god, which gave to the worship of the Emperor its great significance throughout the whole Roman Empire. An Augustus who had put an end to the horrors of the civil war must, in spite of everything, have appeared as a prince of peace and a saviour in the uttermost extremity, who had come to renew the world and to bring back the fair days of the Golden Age. He had again given to mankind an aim in life and to existence some meaning. As the head of the Roman State religion, a person through whose hands the threads of the policy of the whole world passed, as the ruler of an empire such as the world had never before seen, he might well appear to men as a God, as Jupiter himself come down to earth, to dwell among men. "Now at length the time is passed," runs an inscription, apparently of the ninth year before Christ, found at Priene not long ago, "when man had to lament that he had been born. That providence, which directs all life, has sent this man as a saviour to us and the generations to come. He will put an end to all feuds, and dispose all things nobly. In his appearance are the hopes of the past fulfilled. All earlier benefactors of mankind he has surpassed. It is impossible that a greater should come. The birthday of the God has brought for the world the messages of salvation (Gospels) which attend him. From his birth a new epoch must begin." [15] It was not only the longing of mankind for a new structure of society, for peace, justice, and happiness upon earth, which lay at the root of the cult of the Emperors. Deeper minds sought not only an improvement in political and social circumstances, but felt disturbed by thoughts of death and the fate of the soul after its parting from its bodily shell. They trembled at the expectation of the early occurrence of a world-wide catastrophe, which would put a terrible end to all existence. The apocalyptic frame of mind was so widespread at the commencement of the Christian era that even a Seneca could not keep his thoughts from the early arrival of the end of the world. Finally, there also grew up a superstitious fear of evil spirits and Dæmons, which we can scarcely exaggerate. And here no philosophic musings could offer a support to anxious minds, but religion alone. Seldom in the history of mankind has the need for religion been so strongly felt as in the last century before and the first century after Christ. But it was not from the old hereditary national religions that deliverance was expected. It was from the unrestrained commingling and unification of all existing religions, a religious syncretism, which was specially furthered by acquaintance with the strange, but on that account all the more attractive, religions of the East. Already Rome had become a Pantheon of almost all religions which one could believe, while in the Far East, in Nearer Asia, that breeding-place of ancient Gods and cults, there were continually appearing new, more daring and secret forms of religious activity. These, too, in a short while obtained their place in the consciousness of Western humanity. Where the public worship of the recognised Gods did not suffice, men sought a deeper satisfaction in the numberless mystic associations of that time, or formed themselves with others of like mind into private religious bodies or pious brotherhoods, in order to nourish in the quiet of private ritualistic observance an individual religious life apart from the official State religion. I THE INFLUENCE OF PARSEEISM ON THE BELIEF IN A MESSIAH Among no people was the longing for redemption so lively and the expectation of a speedy end of the world so strong as among the Jews. Since the Babylonian captivity (586-536 B.C.) the former Jewish outlook upon the world had undergone a great change. Fifty years had been spent by the Israelites in the land of the stranger. For two hundred years after their return to their own land they were under Persian overlordship. As a consequence of this they were in close connection politically and economically with the Achæmenidean Empire, and this did not cease when Alexander overthrew the Persian power and brought the whole Eastern world under Greek influence. During this lengthy period Persian modes of thinking and Persian religious views had influenced in many ways the old Jewish opinions, and had introduced a large number of new ideas. First of all the extreme dualism of the Persians had impressed a distinctly dual character upon Jewish Monotheism. God and the world, which in the old ideas had often mingled with one another, were separated and made to stand in opposition to each other. Following the same train of thought, the old national God Jahwe, in imitation of the Persian Ahuramazda (Ormuzd), had developed from a God of fire, light, and sky into a God of supernatural purity and holiness. Surrounded by light and enthroned in the Beyond, like Ahuramazda, the source of all life, the living God held intercourse with his creatures upon the earth only through the instrumentality of a court of angels. These messengers of God or intermediate beings in countless numbers moved between heaven and earth upon his service. And just as Angromainyu (Ahriman), the evil, was opposed to Ahuramazda, the good, and the struggle between darkness and light, truth and falsehood, life and death, was, according to Persian ideas, reproduced in the course of earthly events, so the Jews too ascribed to Satan the rôle of an adversary of God, a corrupter of the divine creation, and made him, as Prince of this world and leader of the forces of hell, measure his strength with the King of Heaven. [16] In the struggle of the two opposing worlds, according to Persian ideas, Mithras stood in the foreground, the spirit of light, truth, and justice, the divine "friend" of men, the "mediator," "deliverer," and "saviour" of the world. He shared his office with Honover, Ahuramazda's Word of creation and revelation; and indeed in most things their attributes were mingled. An incarnation of fire or the sun, above all of the struggling, suffering, triumphant light, which presses victoriously through night and darkness, Mithras was also connected with death and immortality, and passed as guide of souls and judge in the under-world. He was the "divine son," of whom it was said that Ahuramazda had fashioned him as great and worthy of reverence as his own self. Indeed, he was in essence Ahuramazda himself, proceeding from his supernatural light, and given a concrete individuality. As companion in creation and "protector" of the world he kept the universe standing in its struggle against its enemies. At the head of the heavenly host he fought for God, and with his sword of flame he drove the Dæmons of Darkness in terror back into the shadows. To take part in this combat on the side of God, to build up the future kingdom of God by the work of a life-giving civilisation, by the rendering fruitful of sterile wastes, the extinction of noxious animals, and by moral self-education, seemed the proper end of human existence. But when the time should have been fulfilled and the present epoch come to an end, according to Persian belief, Ahuramazda was then to raise up from the seed of Zarathustra, the founder of this religion, the "virgin's son," Saoshyant (Sraosha, Sosiosch, which signifies the Saviour), or, as it ran according to another rendering, Mithras himself should descend upon the earth and in a last fierce struggle overwhelm Angromainyu and his hosts, and cast them down into the Nether World. He would then raise the dead in bodily shape, and after a General Judgment of the whole world, in which the wicked should be condemned to the punishments of hell and the good raised to heavenly glory, establish the "millennial Kingdom of Peace." Hell itself was not to last for ever, for a great reconciliation was to be finally held out even to the damned. Then Angromainyu also would make peace with Ahuramazda, and upon a new earth beneath a new heaven all were to be united to one another in everlasting blessedness. These ideas entered the circle of Jewish thought and there brought about a complete transformation of the former belief in a Messiah. Messiah--that is, the Anointed (in Greek, Christos)--originally signified the king as representative of Jahwe before the people and of the people before Jahwe. According to 2 Sam. vii. 13 sq., he was placed in the same relation of an obedient "son" to his "father," in which the whole people was conscious of standing. [17] Then the opposition between the holy dignity of the "Anointed" of God and the humanly imperfect personality of the Jewish kings led to the ideal of the Messiah being transferred to the future and the complete realisation of the rule of Jahwe over his people being expected only then. In this sense the ancient prophets had already celebrated the Messiah as an ideal King of the future, who would experience in the fullest sense the high assurances of Jahwe's favour, of which David had been deemed worthy, since he would be completely worthy of them. They had described him as the Hero, who would be more than Moses and Joshua, who would establish the promised glory of Israel, dispose the people anew, and bring Jahwe's religion even to the heathen. [18] They had glorified him in that he would span the heavens afresh, establish a new earth, and make Israel Lord over all nations. [19] In this they had at first understood the Messiah only as a human being, as a new David or of his seed--theocratic king, divinely favoured prince of peace and just ruler over his people, just as the Persian Saoshyant was to be a man of the seed of Zarathustra. In this sense a Cyrus, the deliverer of the people from the Babylonian captivity, the rescuer and overlord of Israel, had been acclaimed Messiah. [20] But just as Saoshyant had been undesignedly transfigured in the imagination of the people into a divine being and made one with the figure of Mithras, [21] so also among the prophets the Messiah was more and more assigned the part of a divine king. He was called "divine hero," "Father of Eternity," and the prophet Isaiah indulged in a description of his kingdom of peace, in which the wolf would lie down by the lamb, men would no longer die before their time, and would enjoy the fruit of their fields without tithe, while right and justice would reign upon earth under this king of a golden age as it had never done before. [22] Secret and supernatural, as was his nature, so should the birth of the Messiah be. Though a divine child, he was to be born in lowly state. [23] The personality of the Messiah mingled with that of Jahwe himself, as though it were God himself of whose ascending the throne and journey heavenwards the Psalmists sing. [24] These alternations of the Messiah between a human and a divine nature appear still more clearly in the Jewish apocalyptics of the last century before and the first century after Christ. Thus the Apocalypse of Daniel (about 165 B.C.) speaks of one who as Son of Man will descend upon the clouds of heaven and will be brought before the "Ancient of Days." The whole tone of the passage leaves no doubt that the Son of Man (barnasa) is a superhuman being representing the Deity. To him the majesty and kingdom of God have been entrusted in order that, at the end of the existing epoch, he should descend upon the clouds of heaven, surrounded by a troop of angels, and establish an everlasting power, a Kingdom of Heaven. In the picture-language of Enoch (in the last decade before Christ) the Messiah, the "Chosen One," the "Son of Man," appears as a supernatural pre-existing being, who was hidden in God before the world was created, whose glory continues from eternity to eternity and his might from generation to generation, in whom the spirit of wisdom and power dwells, who judges hidden things, punishes the wicked, but will save the holy and just. [25] Indeed, the Apocalypse of Esdras (the so-called fourth Book of Esdras) expressly combats the opinion that the judgment of the world will come through another than God, and likewise describes the Messiah as a kind of "second God," as the "Son of God," as the human incarnation of the Godhead. [26] In all of this the influence of Persian beliefs is unmistakable, whether these arose in Iran itself directly, or whether the idea of a God-appointed king and deliverer of the world was borrowed by the Persians from the circle of Babylonian ideas. Here this conception had taken deep root and was applied at different times now to this king, now to that. [27] Just as in the Persian religion the image of Saoshyant, so also in the Jewish view the picture of the Messiah wavered between a human king of the race of David and a supernatural being of divine nature descended from heaven. And just as in the Persian representation of the coming of Saoshyant and the final victory of the Kingdom of Light there would be a preceding period during which threatening signs would appear in the heavens, the whole of nature would find itself in upheaval and mankind would be scourged with fearful plagues, so also the Jewish Apocalypse speaks of the "woes" of the Messiah and describes a period of terror which would precede the coming of the Messiah. The coming of the power of God was looked upon as a miraculous catastrophe suddenly breaking in from on high, as a conflagration of the world followed by a new creation. The Jewish agreed with the Persian view in this also, that it made a heavenly kingdom of undisturbed bliss "in the light of the everlasting life and in likeness of the angels" follow the earthly world-wide empire of the Messiah. This they imagined on exactly the same lines as the Persian Paradise. There would the holy drink of the "Water of Life" and nourish themselves on the fruit which hang upon the "Tree of Life." The wicked, on the other hand, would be cast into hell and suffer in fearful torments the just punishment of their sins. [28] The conception of a resurrection of the dead and a last judgment had hitherto been strange to the Jews. In pre-exilic days they allowed the body to die and the soul after death to go down as a shadow without feeling into Hades (Sheol), without disturbing themselves further about its fate. Now, however, with the doctrine of the destruction of the world by fire and the general judgment, the idea of personal immortality entered the world of Jewish thought. Thus it is said by Daniel that on the day of judgment the dead will rise again, some waking to everlasting life, others to everlasting perdition. "But the teachers will shine as the brightness of heaven, and those who led the multitude to justice as the stars for ever and ever." [29] With the acceptance of personal immortality the whole tone of religious thought was deepened and enriched in the direction of thought for the individual. Former Jewish morality had been essentially of a collective kind. It was not so much the individual as the people viewed collectively that was looked upon as the object of divine solicitude. At this point the position, the road to which had been already prepared by the prophets, was definitely established, that the individual hoped for a personal religious salvation and as a consequence felt in direct personal relationship with Jahwe. God indeed remained, as the Persians had taught them to understand him, the superhuman lord of heaven enthroned in pure light, the source of all life, the living God. His metaphysical qualities, however, his dazzling glory and unconquerable might were ever more and more overshadowed by his moral attributes: goodness, grace, and mercy appeared as the most prominent features in the character of Jahwe. God seemed a loving father who leads his children through life with kindly care, and without whose consent not a hair of one of his creatures could be touched. The strong tendency within Judaism, represented by the upper currents of pharisaic rabbinism, continually drew the national boundaries closer, and was ever more anxiously occupied with a painfully strict observance of the letter of the law and a conscientious observance of ritualistic ordinances. Ethics threatened to be extinguished under a system of conventional rules of an essentially juristic nature. Yet all the while a more human and natural morality was arising, an inward piety, warm-hearted, popular, and sound, which broke through the narrow limits of Jewish nationalism, and sent a fresh current into the heavy atmosphere of official legality. It was then that the groundwork of later Christian ethics was laid in the purified morality of the psalms, aphorisms, and other edificatory writings of a Job, Baruch, Jesus son of Sirach, &c. It was then that the Jewish Monotheism set itself to extend its sway beyond the boundaries of its own land and to enter into competition with the other religions of antiquity, from which it was to draw back vanquished only before a matured Christianity. II THE HELLENISTIC IDEA OF A MEDIATOR (PHILO) With Alexander's conquest of the Persian Empire Palestine also was drawn within the circle of Hellenistic culture. It was at first a vassal state of the Egyptian Ptolemies, and consequently at the commencement of the second century before Christ came under the overlordship of the Syrian Seleucids. The customs and intellectual life of Greece forced their way into the quiet isolation of the priest-ruled Jewish state and could not be expelled again, despite the national reaction under the Maccabees against foreign influences. Above all, however, the dispersal of the Jews contributed to bring about a settlement of opposing views. Since the Exile the Jews had spread over all the countries of the East Mediterranean. Some had remained in Babylon, others were permanently settled especially in the ports as tradesmen, bankers, and merchants. They controlled the entire money market and trade of the East through their assiduous industry, mercantile sharpness, their lack of scruples, and the tenacity with which they held together, supported therein by their worship in common in the Synagogue. In the atmosphere of Greek philosophy and morality a still further transformation and purification of Jahwe took place. All common human and material lineaments were dropped, and he developed into a spiritual being of perfect goodness, such as Plato had described the Godhead. Here the Jews found themselves face to face with the same problem that had long occupied the Greek philosophers. This was the reconciliation of the supernatural loftiness and aloofness from the world of their God with the demands of the religious consciousness that required the immediate presence of Godhead. Among the ideas which were borrowed by Judaism from the Persian religion belonged those connected with the mediatory "Word." As the creative power of the Godhead, the bearer of revelation and representative of God upon earth, the expression "the word" had already appeared in aphoristic literature. Under Græco-Egyptian influence the term "wisdom" (sophia) had become the naturalised expression for it. "Wisdom" served to describe the activities in regard to man of the God who held aloof from the world. In this connection it may be noted that according to Persian ideas "Wisdom" under the name of Spenta Armaiti was considered as one of the six or seven Amesha Spentas (Amshaspands), those spirits that stood as a bodyguard closest to the throne of God and corresponded to the Jewish archangels. She was considered by the Persians as the daughter or spouse of Ahuramazda. Already, in the so-called "Wisdom of Solomon," written by an Alexandrian Jew in the last century before Christ, she was declared to be a separately existing spirit in close relation to God. Under the guise of a half-personal, half-material being--a power controlling the whole of nature--she was described as the principle of the revelation of God in the creation, maintenance, and ruling of the world, as the common principle of life from on high and as the intermediary organ of religious salvation. Just as Plato had sought to overcome the dualism of the ideal and the material world by the conception of a "world-soul," so "Wisdom" was intended to serve as an intermediary between the opposites, the God of the Jews and his creation. These efforts were continued by the Alexandrian Jew Philo (30 B.C. to 50 A.D.), who tried to bring the Perso-Jewish conception of the "Word" or "Wisdom" into closer accord with the ideas of Greek philosophy than the author of the "Book of Wisdom" had already done. Philo, too, commenced with the opposition between an unknowable, unnameable God, absolutely raised above the world, and material created existence. He imagined this opposition bridged over by means of "powers" which, as relatively self-existing individuals, messengers, servants, and representatives of God, at one time more closely resembled Persian angels or Greek Dæmons, at another time the Platonic "Ideas," the originals and patterns of God in creating. Essentially, however, they bore the character of the so-called "Fructifying powers," those creative forces which infused a soul and design into formless matter and by means of which the Stoic philosophers sought to explain existence. As the first of these intermediate forces, or, indeed, as the essence of them all, Philo considered the "Logos," efficacious reason or the creative word of God. He called him the "first-born son of God" or the "second God," the representative, interpreter, ambassador, Archangel of God, or Prince of Angels. He considered him as the High Priest, who made intercession with God for the world, the affairs of which he represented before him as the paraclete, the advocate and consoler of the world, who was the channel to it of the divine promises; as the tool with which God had fashioned the world, the original and ideal of it to which God had given effect in its creation--that which operated in all things; in a word, as the soul or spirit of the world, which the Stoics had identified with their God, but which Philo distinguished from the other-world Divinity and looked upon as his revelation and manifestation. In essence only an expression for the sum total of all divine forces and activities, the Logos of Philo also was sometimes an impersonal metaphysical principle, simply the efficacy of the Godhead, and sometimes an independent personality distinct from God. Just as the Stoics had personified their world-reason in Hermes, the messenger of the Gods, so the Egyptians had raised Amun Ra's magic word of creation to a self-existing personal mediatory being in Thoth the guide of souls; the Babylonians, the word of fate of the great God Marduk in the shape of Nabu; the Persians, the word of Ahuramazda in Vohu mano as well as in the Spenta Armaiti, the good thought of the creative God. And just as according to Persian ideas it was at one time the divine "son" and mediator "Mithras," the collectivity of all divine forces, at another the ideal man Saoshyant who appeared as Saviour and Deliverer of the world, and just as both mingled in one form, so Philo also at one time described the Word as the collectivity of all creative ideas, at another only as the unembodied idea of man, the ideal man, the direct divine image and immaterial pattern of the material exemplars of humanity, that is effective therein as the subject of all religious redemption. Indeed, he occasionally identified him with the tree of life in Paradise, since both were everlasting and "stood in the middle." According to Philo, man is unable of his own strength to free himself from the bonds of earthly existence. All deliverance depends upon the emancipation of the soul from the body and its sensuous desires. In conformity with his true spiritual and godlike nature, to become as perfect as God, is the highest virtue and at the same time true happiness. This is attained by an insight into the divine reality of things, by whole-hearted trust in God, by grateful recognition of the goodness and love bestowed by him, showing itself in piety towards God as well as in charity and justice towards other men. But in addition the Logos itself must be in us and cause for us the insight into our divine nature. The Logos must guide us, come to the aid of our human weakness with his supernatural strength in the struggles against the world and sin and raise us up to God. Thus the apotheosis of man is the goal aimed at in all religious activity. The Logos, however, is the only means to this end, in so far as we are raised through union with him in faith and love to our true origin and life's source, "the vision of God," and thereby have participation in his life. III JESUS AS CULT-GOD IN THE CREED OF JEWISH SECTS All religious spirits of the time longed to secure this happy vision and communion with God, and to obtain even here on earth a foretaste of the heavenly life. The Jews sought to attain this end by a painfully exact observance of the ordinances of their law, but in so doing they became entangled in a mesh of such minute and tiresome regulations that the more they applied themselves to the service of the law the more difficult it appeared. It seemed to be no longer possible to reconcile the demands of everyday life with one's religious duties. Some therefore withdrew from the life of the world and in retirement and quiet endeavoured to devote themselves exclusively to the "inner life." In Egypt the Therapeutes or Physicians, a religious association composed of Jews and their proselytes, with their headquarters in the neighbourhood of Alexandria, sought in this manner, as Philo informs us in his work "On the Contemplative Life," to give effect to the claims of religion as expressed by Philo himself. [30] Their religious observances resembled those of the Orphic-Pythagorean sects, as in abstinence from flesh and wine, admiration for virginity, voluntary poverty, religious feasts and community singing, and the use of white garments. They made a deep study of the mystical writings of revelation that had been handed down, and these they used as a guide in the allegorical explanation of the Mosaic law. They united a contemplative piety with a common religious observance, and thus sought to strengthen themselves mutually in the certainty of religious salvation. Beyond the Jordan the Jewish sect of the Essenes (from the Syrian word chase, plural chasen or chasaja) had their chief settlement. These called themselves, as is expressed by their name, the "Pious" or "Godfearing." In their esteem of temperance, celibacy, and poverty, their reprobation of slavery, private property, the taking of oaths, and blood-sacrifice, in the honour they paid the sun as a visible manifestation of the divine light, they agreed with the Therapeutes. They differed from them, however, in their monastic organisation and the regular manner in which the life of the community was divided among different classes, their strict subordination to superiors, their maintenance of a novitiate of several years, the secrecy of the traditions of the sect, and their cultivation of the healing art and magic. The Therapeutes passed their lives in leisurely contemplation and spiritual exercises; the Essenes, on the other hand, engaged in the rearing of stock, farming, and bee-culture, or they pursued a handicraft, and in the country places or towns of Judæa, where they often dwelt together in houses of the order, they lived as dwellers in a desert the life of purity and sanctity. Both sects, again, were alike in expecting an early end of the world and in seeking to prepare themselves for the reception of the promises of God by the cultivation of brotherly dispositions amongst themselves, by justice, good works, and benevolence towards their fellow-men, finding therein the special occupation of their lives. [31] Of what nature were the secret traditions upon which these sects rested? We know from the Jewish historian Josephus that the Essenes clung to an extreme dualism of soul and body, in which, indeed, they agreed with the other religious associations of antiquity. Like all mystical sects, they regarded the body as the grave and prison-house of the immortal soul, to which it had been banished from an earlier life in light and blessedness. They also grounded their longing for deliverance from the world of sense and their strivings towards the glory of a better life of the soul beyond the grave upon pessimism in regard to human existence. They even regarded the performance of secret rites as a necessary condition of redemption. But in the opinion of the Essenes it was essential above all to know the names of the angels and dæmons who opened the passage to the different heavens, disposed one above another. This knowledge was to be revealed to men by one of the higher gods, a god-redeemer. A conception allied to that lay at the root of the Book of Wisdom, as well as of Philo's work--the belief in the magic power of the redemptive word of God, mingled by the Essenes with many strange Egyptian, Persian, and Babylonian ingredients and removed from the sphere of philosophic thought to the region of a rankly luxuriant superstition. Thus the closely related Jewish Apocalypse had expressly supported the revelation of a secret divine wisdom. [32] Indeed, we now know that this whole world of thought belonged to an exceedingly manifold syncretic religious system, composed of Babylonian, Persian, Jewish, and Greek ingredients, which ruled the whole of Western Asia in the last centuries before Christ. Its followers called themselves Adonæi, after the name of its supposed founder, Ado (? Adonis). It is, however, generally described as the Mandaic religion, according to another name for its followers, the so-called Mandæi (Gnostics). [33] Of the numberless sects into which this religion split only a few names have come down to us, of which some played a part in the history of the heresies of early Christianity; for example, the Ophites or Nassenes, the Ebionites, Perates, Sethianes, Heliognostics, Sampsæes, &c. [34] We are thus much better acquainted with their fundamental ideas, which were very fantastic and complicated. They all subscribed to the belief in the redemption of the soul of man from its grave of darkness by a mediatory being, originally hidden in God and then expressly awakened or appointed by him for this purpose. In original Mandaism he bore the name of Mandâ de hajjê--that is, Gnosis, or "word" of life. In the form of Hibil-ziwâ, the Babylonian Marduk or Nabu, he was to descend from heaven with the keys thereof, and by means of his magic obtain the dominion of the world. He was to conquer those dæmons that had fallen away from God, introduce the end of the world, and lead back the souls of light to the highest Godhead. As the Apocalyptics show, this view had numerous adherents among the Jews of Palestine also. All those who found no satisfaction in the literalness of the Pharasaic beliefs and the business-like superficiality of the official Jewish religion, found edification in ideas of this sort, which excited the imagination. They dealt with them as "mysteries," and sought, as may well be from fear of conflicts with traditional religion, to keep them secret from the public. [35] Hence it is that we have such an incomplete knowledge of this side of the religious life of the Jews. At any rate they clothed their expected Messiah with the attributes of the Mandaic God of Mediation, and they appear, as is clear from the Apocalypse of Daniel and that of John, to have taken particular pleasure in the description of the scene where God calls ("awakes") the Redeemer to his mediatory office and installs him as Deliverer, Ruler of the World, and Judge of the living and the dead. We are accustomed to look upon the Jewish religion as strictly monotheistic. In truth, it never was, even in the Mosaic times, until after the return from Exile. And this is clear, in spite of the trouble which the composers of the so-called historic books of the Old Testament have taken to work up the traditions in a monotheistic sense and to obliterate the traces of the early Jewish polytheism, by transforming the ancient gods into patriarchs, heroes, angels, and servants of Jahwe. It was not entirely Babylonian, Persian, and Greek opinions which influenced Judaism in a polytheistic direction; from the beginning, besides the theory of one God, emphasised by the priesthood and official world, there existed a belief in other Gods. This constantly received fresh nourishment from foreign influences, and it appears to have been chiefly cultivated in the secret societies. On the descent of the Israelites into Canaan each tribe brought with it its special God, under whose specific guidance it believed its deeds were accomplished. By the reforms of the Prophets these Gods were suppressed; but the higher grew the regard for Jahwe (apparently the God of the tribe of Judah), and the further he was in consequence withdrawn from the world to an unapproachable distance, the more strongly the remembrance of the ancient Gods again arose and assumed the form of the recognition of divine intermediate beings, the so-called "Sons of God." In these the longing for the direct presence and visible representation of God sought expression. Such appears to have been the "Presence," or "Angel of God," with whom Jacob wrestled in the desert, [36] who led the Israelites out of Egypt and went before them as a pillar of flame, [37] who fought against their enemies, drove the Canaanites from their homes, [38] held intercourse with the prophets Elijah and Ezekiel, [39] and stood by the people of Jahwe in every difficulty. [40] He is also called the "King" (Melech), or "Son" of Jahwe, [41] and thus exactly resembles the Babylonian Marduk, the Persian Mithras, the Phoenician Hercules or Moloch, "the first-born son" of God (Protogonos), who also appeared among the Orphics under the name of Phanes (i.e., Countenance), who wrestles with Zeus at Olympia as Jacob with Jahwe, and, like him, dislocates his hip in the struggle with Hippokoon. In the rabbinic theology he is compared with the mystic Metatron, a being related to the Logos, "The Prince of the Presence," "Leader of Angels," "Lord of Lords," "King of Kings," "Commencement of the Way of God." He was also called the "Protector," "Sentinel," and "Advocate" of Israel, who lays petitions before God, and "in whom is the name of the Lord." [42] Thus he is identical with that Angel promised in the second Book of Moses, in whom also is the name of Jahwe, who was to lead Israel to victory over the Amorites, Hittites, Perizzites, Canaanites, Hivites, and Jebusites. [43] But he, again, is no other than Joshua, who was said to have overthrown these nations with Jahwe's aid. [44] But Joshua himself is apparently an ancient Ephraimitic God of the Sun and Fruitfulness, who stood in close relation to the Feast of the Pasch and to the custom of circumcision. [45] Now, many signs speak in favour of the fact that Joshua or Jesus was the name under which the expected Messiah was honoured in certain Jewish sects. In Zech. iii. Joshua, who, according to Ezra iii. 2, led back the Jews into their old homes after the Babylonian captivity, just as the older Joshua brought back the Israelites into Canaan, the promised land of their fathers, was invested as High Priest by the "Angel of the Lord," and promised the continuance of his priesthood so long as he walked in the ways of the Lord. In Zech. vi. 9-15 the High Priest Joshua is crowned as Messiah and brought into connection with the "branch" under which the glory of God's kingdom will come to pass. It is true that in this passage under the title of Messiah Zerubbabel, the leader of the Jews of the race of David, was originally understood. In him the prophet thought he could discern that "branch" by which, in accordance with Isaiah xi. 1, the House of David was again to obtain the rule. Since, however, the great hopes set upon Zerubbabel as Messiah were not fulfilled, a correction was made (and this before the Bible was translated into Greek) in the text of the prophet, as follows: The name of Zerubbabel was struck out, the plural changed into the singular, so that Joshua alone was represented as having been crowned, the promises regarding the Messiah accordingly also passing over to him (Stade, "Gesch. des Volkes Israel," 1888, ii. 126, note. Hühn, "Die messianischen Weissagungen des israel. Volkes," 1889, 62 et sq.). Jesus was a name given, as will be still more clearly shown, not only to the High Priest of Zechariah and to the successor of Moses, both of whom were said to have led Israel back into its ancient home, both having a decidedly Messianic character. The name in ancient times also belonged to the Healthbringer and Patron of the Physician--namely, Jasios or Jason, the pupil of Chiron skilled in healing [46]--who in general shows a remarkable resemblance to the Christian Redeemer. Consider also the significant fact that three times at decisive turning-points in the history of the Israelites a Joshua appears who leads his people into their promised home, into Canaan and Jerusalem, into the Kingdom of God--the "New Jerusalem." Now, as Epiphanius remarks in his "History of the Heretics," Jesus bears in the Hebrew language the same meaning as curator, therapeutes--that is, physician and curer. But the Therapeutes and Essenes regarded themselves as physicians, and, above all, physicians of the soul. It is accordingly by no means improbable that they too honoured the God of their sect under this name. [47] We, moreover, read in a Parisian magic-papyrus recently found and published by Wessely (line 3119 et sq.): "I exort thee by Jesus the God of the Hebrews." The words are found in an ostensibly "Hebrew Logos" of that papyrus, the tone of which is quite ancient, moreover shows no trace of Christian influence, and is ascribed by the transcriber to "the Pure," under which name, according to Dieterich, the Essenes or Therapeutes are to be understood. [48] The Jessaes or Jessenes (Jessaioi) named themselves after Jesus, or after "the branch from the root of Jesse." [49] They were closely connected on one side with the Essenes and on the other side with the Jewish sect of the Nazarenes or Nazoraes (Nazoraiori), if they were not absolutely identical. These were, as Epiphanius shows, in existence long before Christ, and had no knowledge of him. [50] They were, however, called Nazoraes (Nazarenes (Nazarenos) is only a linguistic variation of it, cf. Essaes and Essenes) because they honoured the Mediator God, the divine "son," as a protector and guardian (Syrian, Nasaryá; Hebrew, Ha-nôsrî) (cf. "the Protector of Israel," also the fact that Mithras was honoured as "Protector of the World"). According to Acts xxiv. 5 the first followers of Jesus were also called Nazoraes or Nazarenes. The expressions "Jesus" and "Nazorean" were therefore originally of almost like meaning, and by the addition of "the Nazorean" or "Nazarene" Jesus is not characterised as the man of Nazareth, as the Evangelists represent it, but as the Healer and Deliverer. Whether there was a place called Nazareth in pre-Christian days must be considered as at least very doubtful. Such a place is not mentioned either in the Old Testament or in the Talmud, which, however, mentions more than sixty Galilean towns; nor, again, by the Jewish historian Josephus, nor in the Apocrypha. Cheyne believes himself justified by this in the conclusion that Nazareth in the New Testament is a pure geographical fiction. [51] It is only in the later phases of the tradition that the name appears in the New Testament as a place-name. In the earlier ones the Nazorean (Nazarene) only signifies the follower of a particular sect, or is a surname of Jesus which characterises the significance attached to him in the thoughts of his followers. "The Nazorean" appears here only as an integral part of the whole name of Jesus, as Zeus Xenios, Hermes Psychopompos, Apollo Pythios, &c., &c. It is applied to Jesus only as Guardian of the world, Protector and Deliverer of Men from the power of sin and Dæmons, but without any reference to a quite obscure and entirely unknown village named Nazareth, which is mentioned in documents beyond any dispute, only from the fourth century on (see Eusebius, Jerome, and Epiphanius). Or where else is a sect named after the birthplace of its founder? [52] Moreover, even in the Gospels it is not Nazareth but Capernaum which is described as his city; while Nazareth does not play any part at all in the life of Jesus. For the passages Matt. xiii. 53-58 and Mark vi. 1-6, according to which he had no success with his miracles in his "patris" on account of the unbelief of the people, leave the question open whether under the name of "patris" one is to understand his father-city Nazareth or somewhere else. The corresponding passage, Luke iv. 16-31, mentions Nazareth, it is true, in connection with this incident; but it is in discrepancy with the older versions of Matthew and Mark, and it appears otherwise recognisable as a later redaction of the passages in the other Gospels. [53] Now the expression nazar or netzer in the sense of twig (sprout) is found not only in the well-known passage Isaiah xi. 1, where the Messiah is described as the "rod from the tree of Jesse" or "the twig from its root." In fine, was not the twig looked upon as a symbol of the Redeemer in his character of a God of vegetation and life, as was the case in the worship of Mithras, of Men, a god of Asia Minor, of Attis, Apollo, [54] &c., and did not this idea also make itself felt in the name of the Nazareans? "He shall be called a Nazarene," [55] accordingly, does not signify that he was to be born in the small village of Nazareth, which probably did not exist in the time of Jesus, but that he is the promised netzer or Zemah, who makes all new, and restores the time when "one loads the other beneath vine and fig-tree," [56] and wonderful increase will appear. [57] Again, the possibility is not excluded of the name of the Nazareans having been confused with that of the Nasiraes (Nazirites), those "holy" or "dedicated" ones, who were a survival in Judea from the times when the Israelite tribes were nomads. These sought to express their opposition to the higher civilisation of the conquered land by patriarchal simplicity and purity of life, abstinence from the use of oil, wine, and the shears, &c. [58] According to this, Jesus (Joshua) was originally a divinity, a mediator, and God of healing of those pre-Christian Jewish sectaries, with reference to whom we are obliged to describe the Judaism of the time--as regards certain of its tendencies, that is--as a syncretic religion. [59] "The Revelation of John" also appears to be a Christian redaction of an original Jewish work which in all likelihood belonged to a pre-Christian cult of Jesus. The God Jesus which appears in it has nothing to do with the Christian Jesus. Moreover, its whole range of ideas is so foreign even to ancient Judaism that it can be explained only by the influence of heathen religions upon the Jewish. [60] It is exactly the same with the so-called "Doctrine of the Twelve Apostles." This too displays a Jewish foundation, and speaks of a Jesus in the context of the words of the supper, who is in no wise the same as the Christian Redeemer. [61] It is comprehensible that the later Christians did all they could in order to draw the veil of forgetfulness over these things. Nevertheless Smith has succeeded in his book, "The Pre-Christian Jesus," in showing clear evidences even in the New Testament of a cult of an old God Jesus. Among other things the phrase "ta peri tou Iesou" ("the things concerning Jesus") [62] which according to all appearance has no reference to the history of Jesus, but only means the doctrines concerning him, and in any case could originally only have had this meaning, involves a pre-Christian form of belief in a Jesus. But this point is above all supported by the circumstance that even at the earliest commencement of the Christian propaganda we meet with the name of Jesus used in such a manner as to point to a long history of that name. For it is employed from the beginning in the driving out of evil spirits, a fact that would be quite incomprehensible if its bearer had been merely a man. Now we know from the Gospels and Acts of the Apostles that it was not only the disciples of the Jesus of the Gospels, but also others even in his lifetime (i.e., even in the first commencement of the Christian propaganda), healed diseases, and drove out evil spirits in the name of Jesus. From this it is to be concluded that the magic of names was associated from of old with the conception of a divine healer and protector, and that Jesus, like Marduk, was a name for this God of Healing. [63] Judging by this the Persian, but above all the Babylonian, religion must have influenced the views of the above-named sects. For the superstition regarding names, the belief in the magic power attributed to the name of a divine being, as well as the belief in Star Gods and Astral mythology, which is a characteristic of Mandaism, all have Babylon as their home. The Essenes also appear to have exercised the magical and healing art of which they boasted in the form of wonder-working and the driving out of evil spirits by a solemn invocation of the name of their God of Healing. [64] IV THE SUFFERINGS OF THE MESSIAH In the most different religions the belief in a divine Saviour and Redeemer is found bound up with the conception of a suffering and dying God, and this idea of a suffering and dying Messiah was by no means unknown to the Jews. It may be of no importance that in the Apocalypse of Esdras [65] the death of Christ is spoken of, since in the opinion of many this work only appeared in the first century after Christ; but Deutero-Isaiah too, during the Exile, describes the chosen one and messenger of God as the "suffering servant of God," as one who had already appeared, although he had remained unknown and despised, had died shamefully and been buried, but as one also who would rise up again in order to fulfil the splendour of the divine promise. [66] This brings to mind the suffering, death, and resurrection of the Gods of Babylon and of the whole of Nearer Asia; for example, Tammuz, Mithras, Attis, Melkart, and Adonis, Dionysus, the Cretan Zeus, and the Egyptian Osiris. The prophet Zechariah, moreover, speaks of the secret murder of a God over which the inhabitants of Jerusalem would raise their lament, "as in the case of Hadad-rimmon (Rammân) in the valley of Megiddon," that is, as at the death of Adonis, one of the chief figures among the Gods believed in by the Syrians. [67] Ezekiel also describes the women of Jerusalem, sitting before the north gate of the city and weeping over Tammuz. [68] The ancient Israelites, too, were already well acquainted with the suffering and dying Gods of the neighbouring peoples. Now, indeed, it is customary for Isaiah's "servant of God" to be held to refer to the present sufferings and future glory of the Jewish people, and there is no doubt that the prophet understood the image in that sense. At the same time Gunkel rightly maintains that in the passage of Isaiah referred to, the figure of a God who dies and rises again stands in the background, and the reference to Israel signifies nothing more than a new symbolical explanation of the actual fate of a God. [69] Every year the forces of nature die away to reawaken to a new life only after a long period. The minds of all peoples used to be deeply moved by this occurrence--the death whether of nature as a whole beneath the influence of the cold of winter, or of vegetable growth under the parching rays of the summer sun. Men looked upon it as the fate of a fair young God whose death they deeply lamented and whose rebirth or resurrection they greeted with unrestrained rejoicing. On this account from earliest antiquity there was bound up with the celebration of this God an imitative mystery under the form of a ritualistic representation of his death and resurrection. In the primitive stages of worship, when the boundaries between spirit and nature remained almost entirely indistinct, and man still felt himself inwardly in a sympathetic correspondence with surrounding nature, it was believed that one could even exercise an influence upon nature or help it in its interchange between life and death, and turn the course of events to one's own interest. For this purpose man was obliged to imitate it. "Nowhere," says Frazer, to whom we are indebted for a searching inquiry into all ideas and ritualistic customs in this connection, "were these efforts more strictly and systematically carried out than in Western Asia. As far as names go they differed in different places, in essence they were everywhere alike. A man, whom the unrestrained phantasy of his adorers clothed with the garments and attributes of a God, used to give his life for the life of the world. After he had poured from his own body into the stagnating veins of nature a fresh stream of vital energy, he was himself delivered over to death before his own sinking strength should have brought about a general ruin of the forces of nature, and his place was then taken by another, who, like all his forerunners, played the ever-recurring drama of the divine resurrection and death." [70] Even in historic times this was frequently carried out with living persons. These had formerly been the kings of the country or the priests of the God in question, but their place was now taken by criminals. In other cases the sacrifice of the deified man took place only symbolically, as with the Egyptian Osiris, the Persian Mithras, the Phrygian Attis, the Syrian Adonis, and the Tarsic (Cilician) Sandan (Sandes). In these cases a picture of the God, an effigy, or a sacred tree-trunk took the place of the "God man." Sufficient signs, however, still show that in such cases it was only a question of a substitute under milder forms of ritual for the former human victim. Thus, for example, the name of the High Priest of Attis, being also Attis, that is, "father," the sacrificial self-inflicted wound on the occasion of the great feast of the God (March 22nd to 27th), and the sprinkling with his blood of the picture of the God that then took place, makes us recognise still more plainly a later softening of an earlier custom of self-immolation. [71] With the idea of revivifying dying nature by the sacrifice of a man was associated that of the "scapegoat." The victim did not only represent to the people their God, but at the same time stood for the people before God and had to expiate by his death the misdeeds committed by them during the year. [72] As regards the manner of death, however, this varied in different places between death by his own sword or that of the priest, by the pyre or the gibbet (gallows). In this way we understand the 53rd chapter of Isaiah: "Surely he hath borne our griefs, and carried our sorrows: yet we did esteem him stricken, smitten of God, and afflicted. But he was wounded for our transgressions, he was bruised for our iniquities: the chastisement of our peace was upon him; and with his stripes we are healed. All we like sheep have gone astray; we have turned every one to his own way; and the Lord hath laid on him the iniquity of us all. He was oppressed, yet he humbled himself, and opened not his mouth; as a lamb that is led to the slaughter, and as a sheep that before her shearers is dumb; yea, he opened not his mouth. He was cut off out of the land of the living; for the transgression of my people was he stricken. And they made his grave with the wicked and with the rich in his death; although he had done no violence, neither was any deceit in his mouth. When thou shalt make his soul an offering for sin, he shall see his seed, he shall prolong his days, and the pleasure of the Lord shall prosper in his hand. He shall see of the travail of his soul [? sufferings], and shall be satisfied: by his knowledge shall my righteous servant justify many, and he shall bear their iniquities. Therefore will I divide him a portion with the great, and he shall divide the spoil with the strong; because he poured out his soul unto death, and was numbered with the transgressors; yet he bare the sin of many, and made intercession for the transgressors." Here we obviously have to do with a man who dies as an expiatory sacrifice for the sins of his people, and by his death benefiting the lives of the others is on that account raised to be a God. Indeed, the picture of the just man suffering, all innocent as he is, itself varies between a human and a divine being. And now let us enter into the condition of the soul of such an unhappy one, who as "God man" suffers death upon the gibbet, and we understand the words of the 22nd Psalm: "My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me? Why art thou so far from helping me, and from the words of my roaring? O my God, I cry in the day time, but thou answereth not; and in the night season, and am not silent. But thou art holy, O thou that inhabitest the praises of Israel. Our fathers trusted in thee; they trusted, and thou didst deliver them. They cried unto thee, and were delivered; they trusted in Thee, and were not ashamed. But I am a worm, and no man; a reproach of men, and despised of the people. All they that see me laugh me to scorn: they shoot out the lip, they shake the lip, saying, Commit thyself unto the Lord, let him deliver him: let him deliver him, seeing he delighteth in him.... Many bulls have compassed me: strong bulls of Bashan have beset me round. They gape upon me with their mouth, as a ravening and a roaring lion. I am poured out like water. And all my bones are out of joint: my heart is like wax: it is melted in the midst of my bowels.... They pierced my hands and my feet. I may tell all my bones. They look and stare upon me: they part my garments among them, and upon my vesture do they cast lots. But be not thou far off, O Lord: O Thou, my succour, haste Thee to help me.... Save me from the lion's mouth, yea, from the horns of the wild oxen...." When the poet of the psalms wished to describe helplessness in its direst extremity, before his eyes there came the picture of a man, who, hanging upon the gibbet, calls upon God's aid, while round about him the people gloat over his sufferings, which are to save them; and the attendants who had taken part in the sacrifice divide among themselves the costly garments with which the God-king had been adorned. The employment of such a picture presupposes that the occurrence depicted was not unknown to the poet and his public, whether it came before their eyes from acquaintance with the religious ideas of their neighbours or because they were accustomed to see it in their own native usages. As a matter of fact in ancient Israel human sacrifices were by no means unusual. This appears from numberless passages of the Old Testament, and has been already exhaustively set forth by Ghillany in his book "Die Menschenopfer der alten Hebräer" (1842), and by Daumer in his "Der Feuer- und Molochdienst der alten Hebräer." Thus we read in 2 Sam. xxi. 6-9 of the seven sons of the House of Saul, who were delivered over by David to the Gibeonites, who hung them on the mountain before the Lord. Thus was God appeased towards the land. [73] In Numb. xxv. 4 Jahwe bade Moses hang the chiefs of the people "to the Lord before the sun, in order that the bitter wrath of the Lord might be turned from Israel." And according to the Book of Joshua this latter dedicated the inhabitants of the city of Ain to the Lord, and after the capture of the city hung their king upon a tree, [74] while in the tenth chapter (15-26) he even hangs five kings at one time. Indeed, it appears that human sacrifice formed a regular part of the Jewish religion in the period before the Exile; which indeed was but to be expected, considering the relationship between Jahwe and the Phoenician Baal. Jahwe himself was, moreover, originally only another form of the old Semitic Fire- and Sun-God; the God-king (Moloch or Melech), who was honoured under the image of a Bull, was represented at this time as a "smoking furnace" [75] and was gratified and propitiated by human sacrifices. [76] Even during the Babylonian captivity, despite the voices raised against it by some prophets in the last years of the Jewish state, sacrifices of this kind were offered by the Jews; until they were suppressed under the rule of the Persians, and in the new Jewish state were expressly forbidden. But even then they continued in secret and could easily be revived at any time, so soon as the excitement of the popular mind in some time of great need seemed to demand an extraordinary victim. [77] Now the putting to death of a man in the rôle of a divine ruler was in ancient times very often connected with the celebration of the new year. This is brought to our mind even at the present day by the German and Slav custom of the "bearing out" of death at the beginning of spring, when a man or an image of straw symbolising the old year or winter, is taken round amidst lively jesting and is finally thrown into the water or ceremonially burnt, while the "Lord of May," crowned with flowers, makes his entrance. Again, the Roman Saturnalia, celebrated in December, during which a mock king wielded his sceptre over a world of joy and licence and unbounded folly, and all relationships were topsy-turvy, the masters playing the part of slaves and vice-versâ, in the most ancient times used to be held in March as a festival of spring. And in this case, too, the king of the festival had to pay for his short reign with his life. In fact, the Acts of St. Dasius, published by Cumont, show that the bloody custom was still observed by the Roman soldiers on the frontiers of the Empire in the year 303 A.D. [78] In Babylon the Feast of the Sakæes corresponded to the Roman Saturnalia. It was ostensibly a memorial of the inroad of the Scythian Sakes into Nearer Asia, and according to Frazer was identical with the very ancient new year's festival of the Babylonians, the Zakmuk. This too was associated with a reversal of all usual relationships. A mock king, a criminal condemned to death, was here also the central figure--an unhappy being, to whom for a few days was accorded absolute freedom and every kind of pleasure, even to the using of the royal harem, until on the last day he was divested of his borrowed dignity, stripped naked, scourged, and then burnt. [79] The Jews gained a knowledge of this feast during the Babylonian captivity, borrowed it from their oppressors, and celebrated it shortly before their Pasch under the name of the Feast of Purim, ostensibly, as the Book of Esther is at pains to point out, as a memorial of a great danger from which in Persia during the reign of Ahasuerus (Xerxes) they were saved by the craft of Esther and her uncle Mordecai. Jensen, however, has pointed out in the Vienna Zeitschrift für die Kunde des Morgenlandes [80] that the basis of the narrative of Esther is an opposition between the chief Gods of Babylon and those of hostile Elam. According to his view under the names of Esther and Mordecai are hidden the names of Istar, the Babylonian Goddess of fertility, and Marduk, her "son" and "beloved." At Babylon during the Feast of the Sakæes, under the names of the Elamite Gods Vashti and Haman (Humman), they were put out of the way as representatives of the old or wintry part of the year in order that they might rise up again under their real names and bring into the new year or the summer half of the year. [81] Thus the Babylonian king of the Sakæes also played the part of a God and suffered death as such upon the pyre. Now we have grounds for assuming that the later Jewish custom at the Feast of Purim of hanging upon a gibbet and burning a picture or effigy representing the evil Haman, originally consisted, as at Babylon, in the putting to death of a real man, some criminal condemned to death. Here, too, then was seen not only a representative of Haman, but one also of Mordecai, a representative of the old as well as of the new year, who in essence was one and the same being. While the former was put to death at the Purim feast, the latter, a criminal chosen by lot, was given his freedom on this occasion, clothed with the royal insignia of the dead man and honoured as the representative of Mordecai rewarded by Ahasuerus for his services. "Mordecai," it is said in the Book of Esther, "went out from the king in royal attire, gold and white, with a great crown of gold, and covered with a robe of linen and purple. And the town of Susa rejoiced and was merry." [82] Frazer has discovered that in this description we have before us the picture of an old Babylonian king of the Sakæes, who represented Marduk, as he entered the chief town of the country side, and thus introduced the new year. At the same time it appears that in reality the procession of the mock king was less serious and impressive than the author of the Book of Esther would out of national vanity make us believe. Thus Lagarde has drawn attention to an old Persian custom which used to be observed every year at the beginning of spring in the early days of March, which is known as "the Ride of the Beardless One." [83] On this occasion a beardless and, when possible, one-eyed yokel, naked, and accompanied by a royal body-guard and a troop of outriders, was conducted in solemn pomp through the city seated upon an ass, amidst the acclamations of the crowd, who bore branches of palm and cheered the mock king. He had the right to collect contributions from the rich people and shopkeepers along the route which he followed. Part of these went into the coffers of the king, part were assigned to the collector, and he could without more ado appropriate the property of another in case the latter refused his demands. He had, however, to finish his progress and disappear within a strictly limited time, for in default of this he exposed himself to the danger of being seized by the crowd and mercilessly cudgelled to death. People hoped that from this procession of "the Beardless One" an early end of winter and a good year would result. From this it appears that here too we have to do with one of those innumerable and multiform spring customs, which at all times and among the most diverse nations served to hasten the approach of the better season. The Persian "Beardless One" corresponded with the Babylonian king of the Sakæes, and appears to have represented the departing winter. Frazer concludes from this that the criminal also who played the part of the Jewish "Mordecai" with similar pomp rode through the city like "the Beardless One," and had to purchase his freedom with the amusement which he afforded the people. In this connection he recalls a statement of Philo according to which, on the occasion of the entry of the Jewish King Agrippa into Alexandria, a half-crazy street sweeper was solemnly chosen by the rabble to be king. After the manner of "the Beardless One," covered with a robe and bearing a crown of paper upon his head and a stick in his hand for a sceptre, he was treated by a troop of merry-makers as a real king. [84] Philo calls the poor wretch Karabas. This is probably only a corruption of the Hebrew name Barabbas, which means "Son of the Father." It was accordingly not the name of an individual, but the regular appellation of whoever had at the Purim feast to play the part of Mordecai, the Babylonian Marduk, that is, the new year. This is in accordance with the original divine character of the Jewish mock king. For as "sons" of the divine father all the Gods of vegetation and fertility of Nearer Asia suffered death, and the human representatives of these gods had to give their lives for the welfare of their people and the renewed growth of nature. [85] It thus appears that a kind of commingling of the Babylonian Feast of the Sakæes and the Persian feast of "the Beardless One" took place among the Jews, owing to their sojourn in Babylon under Persian overlordship. The released criminal made his procession as Marduk (Mordecai) the representative of the new life rising from the dead, but it was made in the ridiculous rôle of the Persian "Beardless One"--that is, the representative of the old year--while this latter was likewise represented by another criminal, who, as Haman, had to suffer death upon the gallows. In their account of the last events of the life of the Messiah, Jesus, the custom at the Jewish Purim feast, already referred to, passed through the minds of the Evangelists. They described Jesus as the Haman, Barabbas as the Mordecai of the year, and in so doing, on account of the symbol of the lamb of sacrifice, they merged the Purim feast in the feast of Easter, celebrated a little later. They, however, transferred the festive entry into Jerusalem of "the Beardless One," his hostile measures against the shopkeepers and money-changers, and his being crowned in mockery as "King of the Jews," from Mordecai-Barabbas to Haman-Jesus, thus anticipating symbolically the occurrences which should only have been completed on the resurrection of the Marduk of the new year. [86] According to an old reading of Math. xxvii. 18 et seq., which, however, has disappeared from our texts since Origen, Barabbas, the criminal set against the Saviour, is called "Jesus Barabbas"--that is, "Jesus, the son of the Father." [87] May an indication of the true state of the facts not lie herein, and may the figure of Jesus Barabbas, the God of the Year, corresponding to both halves of the year, that of the sun's course upwards and downwards, not have separated into two distinct personalities on the occasion of the new year's feast? The Jewish Pasch was a feast of spring and the new year, on the occasion of which the firstfruits of the harvest and the first-born of men and beasts were offered to the God of sun and sky. Originally this was also associated with human sacrifices. Here too such a sacrifice passed, as was universal in antiquity, for a means of expiation, atoning for the sins of the past year and ensuring the favour of Jahwe for the new year. [88] "As representing all the souls of the first-born are given to God; they are the means of union between Jahwe and his people; the latter can only remain for ever Jahwe's own provided a new generation always offers its first-born in sacrifice to God. This was the chief dogma of ancient Judaism; all the hopes of the people were fixed thereon; the most far-reaching promises were grounded upon the readiness to sacrifice the first-born." [89] The more valuable such a victim was, the higher the rank which he bore in life, so much the more pleasing was his death to God. On this account they were "kings" who, according to the Books of Joshua and Samuel, were "consecrated" to the Lord. Indeed, in the case of the seven sons of the house of Saul whom David caused to be hung, the connection between their death and the Pasch is perfectly clear, when it is said that they died "before the Lord" at the time of the barley harvest (i.e., of the Feast of the Pasch). [90] Thus there could be no more efficacious sacrifice than when a king or ruler offered his first-born. It was on this account that, as Justin informs us, [91] the banished Carthaginian general Maleus caused his son Cartalo, decked out as a king and priest, to be hung in sight of Carthage while it was being besieged by him, thereby casting down the besiegers so much that he captured the city after a few days. It was on this account that the Carthaginian Hamilcar at the siege of Agrigentum (407 B.C.) sacrificed his own son, and that the Israelites relinquished the conquest of Moab, when the king of this country offered his first-born to the Gods. [92] Here, too, the human victim seems to have been only the representative of a divine one, as when, for example, the Phoenicians in Tyre until the time of the siege of that city by Alexander sacrificed each year, according to Pliny, a boy to Kronos, i.e., Melkart or Moloch (king). [93] This Tyrian Melkart, however, is the same as he to whom, as Porphyry states, a criminal was annually sacrificed at Rhodes. According to Philo of Byblos the God was called "Israel" among the Phoenicians, and on the occasion of a great pestilence, in order to check the mortality, he is said to have sacrificed his first-born son Jehud (Judah), i.e., "the Only one," having first decked him out in regal attire. [94] Thus Abraham also sacrificed his first-born to Jahwe. Abraham (the "great father") is, however, only another name for Israel, "the mighty God." This was the earliest designation of the God of the Hebrews, until it was displaced by the name Jahwe, being only employed henceforth as the name of the people belonging to him. The name of his son Isaac (Jishâk) marks the latter out as "the smiling one." This however, does not refer, as Goldzither [95] thinks, to the smiling day or the morning light, but to the facial contortions of the victim called forth by the pains he endured from the flames in the embrace of the glowing oven. These contortions were anciently called "sardonic laughter," on account of the sacrifices to Moloch in Crete and Sardinia. [96] When, as civilisation increased, human sacrifices were done away with in Israel, and with the development of monotheism the ancient Gods were transformed into men, the story of Genesis xxii. came into existence with the object of justifying "historically" the change from human to animal victims. The ancient custom according to which amongst many peoples of antiquity, kings, the sons of kings, and priests were not allowed to die a natural death, but, after the expiration of a certain time usually fixed by an oracle, had to suffer death as a sacrificial victim for the good of their people, must accordingly have been in force originally in Israel also. Thus did Moses and Aaron also offer themselves for their people in their capacity of leader and high priest. [97] But since both, and especially Moses, passed as types of the Messiah, the opinion grew up quite naturally that the expected great and mighty leader and high priest of Israel, in whom Moses should live again, [98] had to suffer the holy death of Moses and Aaron as sacrificial victims. [99] The view that the idea of a suffering and dying Messiah was unknown to the Jews cannot accordingly be maintained. Indeed, in Daniel ix. 26 mention is made of a dying Christ. We saw above that among the Jews of the post-exilic period the thought of the Messiah was associated with the personality of Cyrus. Now of Cyrus the story goes that this mighty Persian king suffered death upon the gibbet by the order of the Scythian queen Tomyris. [100] But in Justin the Jew Trypho asserts that the Messiah will suffer and die a death of violence. [101] Indeed, what is more, the Talmud looks upon the death of the Messiah (with reference to Isaiah liii.) as an expiatory death for the sins of his people. From this it appears "that in the second century after Christ, people were, at any rate in certain circles of Judaism, familiar with the idea of a suffering Messiah, suffering too as an expiation for human sins." [102] The Rabbinists separate more accurately two conceptions of the Messiah. According to one, in the character of a descendant of David and a great and divine hero he was to release the Jews from servitude, found the promised world-wide empire, and sit in judgment over men. This is the Jewish conception of the Messiah, of which King David was the ideal. [103] According to the other he was to assemble the ten tribes in Galilee and lead them against Jerusalem, only to be overthrown, however, in the battle against Gog and Magog under the leadership of Armillus on account of Jeroboam's sin--that is, on account of the secession of the Israelites from the Jews. The Talmud describes the last-mentioned Messiah, in distinction from the first, as the son of Joseph or Ephraim. This is done with reference to the fact that the kingdom of Israel included above all the tribes of Ephraim and Manasseh, and that these traced back their origin to the mythical Joseph. He is thus the Messiah of the Israelites who had separated from the Jews, and especially, as it appears, of the Samaritans. This Messiah, "the son of Joseph," it is said, "will offer himself in sacrifice and pour forth his soul in death, and his blood will atone for the people of God." He himself will go to heaven. Then, however, the other Messiah, "the son of David," the Messiah of the Jews in a narrower sense, will come and fulfil the promises made to them, in which connection Zech. xii. 10 sq. and xiv. 3 sq. seem to have influenced this whole doctrine. [104] According to Dalman, [105] the figure of the Messiah ben Joseph first appeared in the second or third century after Christ. Bousset too appears to consider it a "later" tradition, although he cannot deny that the Jewish Apocalypses of the end of the first thousand years after Christ, which are the first to make extensive mention of the matter, may have contained "very ancient" traditions. According to Persian beliefs, too, Mithras was the suffering Redeemer and mediator between God and the world, while Saoshyant, on the other hand, was the judge of the world who would appear at the end of all time and obtain the victory over Ariman (Armillus). In the same way the Greek myth distinguished from the older Dionysus, Zagreus, the son of Persephone, who died a cruel death at the hands of the Titans, a younger God of the same name, son of Zeus and Semele, who was to deliver the world from the shackles of darkness. Precisely the same relationship exists between Prometheus, the suffering, and Heracles, the triumphant deliverer of the world. We thus obviously have to do here with a very old and wide-spread myth, and it is scarcely necessary to point out how closely the two figures of the Samaritan and Jewish Messiahs correspond to the Haman and Mardachai of the Jewish Purim feast, in order to prove the extreme antiquity of this whole conception. The Gospel united into one the two figures of the Messiah, which had been originally separate. From the Messiah ben Joseph it made the human Messiah, born in Galilee, and setting out from there with his followers for Jerusalem, there to succumb to his adversaries. On the other hand, from the Messiah ben David it made the Messiah of return and resurrection. At the same time it elevated and deepened the whole idea of the Messiah in the highest degree by commingling the conception of the self-sacrificing Messiah with that of the Paschal victim, and this again with that of the God who offers his own son in sacrifice. Along with the Jews it looked upon Jesus as the "son" of King David, at the same time, however, preserving a remembrance of the Israelite Messiah in that it also gave him Joseph as father; and while it said with respect to the first idea that he was born at Bethlehem, the city of David, it assigned him in connection with the latter Nazareth of Galilee as his birthplace, and invented the abstruse story of the journey of his parents to Bethlehem in order to be perfectly impartial towards both views. And now, who is this Joseph, as son of whom the Messiah was to be a suffering and dying creature like any ordinary man? Winckler has pointed out in his "Geschichte Israels" that under the figure of the Joseph of the Old Testament, just as under that of Joshua, an ancient Ephraimitic tribal God is concealed. Joseph is, as Winckler expresses it, "the heroic offspring of Baal of Garizim, an offshoot of the Sun-God, to whom at the same time characteristics of Tammuz, the God of the Spring Sun, are transferred." [106] Just as Tammuz had to descend into the under-world, so was Joseph cast into the well, in which, according to the "Testament of the twelve Patriarchs," [107] he spent three months and five days. This betokens the winter months and five additional days during which the sun remains in the under-world. And again he is cast into prison; and just as Tammuz, after his return from the under-world, brings a new spring to the earth, so does Joseph, after his release from confinement, introduce a season of peace and happiness for Egypt. [108] On this account he was called in Egypt Psontomphanech, that is, Deliverer of the World, in view of his divine nature, and later passed among the Jews also as a prototype of the Messiah. Indeed, it appears that the Evangelists themselves regarded him in such a light, for the story of the two fellow-prisoners of Joseph, the baker and cupbearer of Pharaoh, one of whom, as Joseph foretold, was hanged, [109] while the other was again received into favour by the king, was transformed by them into the story of the two robbers who were executed at the same time as Jesus, one of whom mocked the Saviour while the other besought him to remember him when he entered into his heavenly kingdom. [110] But the Ephraimitic Joshua too must have been a kind of Tammuz or Adonis. His name (Joshua, Syrian, Jeshu) characterises him as saviour and deliverer. As such he also appears in the Old Testament, finally leading the people of Israel into the promised land after long privations and sufferings. According to the Jewish Calendar the commencement of his activity was upon the tenth of Nisan, on which the Paschal lamb was chosen, and it ended with the Feast of the Pasch. Moses introduced the custom of circumcision and the redemption of the first-born male, and Joshua was supposed to have revived it. [111] At the same time he is said to have replaced the child victims, which it had been customary to offer to Jahwe in early days, by the offering of the foreskin of the male and thereby to have established a more humane form of sacrificial worship. This brings to our mind the substitution of an animal victim for a human one in the story of Isaac (Jishâks). It also brings to mind Jesus who offered his own body in sacrifice at the Pasch as a substitute for the numberless bloody sacrifices of expiation of prior generations. Again, according to an ancient Arabian tradition, the mother of Joshua was called Mirzam (Mariám, Maria), as the mother of Jesus was, while the mother of Adonis bore the similar sounding name of Myrrha, which also expressed the mourning of the women at the lament for Adonis [112] and characterised the mother of the Redeemer God as "the mother of sorrow." [113] But what is above all decisive is that the son of the "Ploughman" Jephunneh, Caleb (i.e., the Dog), stands by Joshua's side as a hero of equal rank. His name points in the same way to the time of the summer solstice, when in the mouth of the "lion" the dog-star (Sirius) rises, while his descent from Nun, the Fish or Aquarius, indicates Joshua as representing the winter solstice. [114] Just as Joshua belonged to the tribe of Ephraim, to which according to the Blessing of Jacob the Fishes of the the Zodiac refer, [115] so Caleb belonged to the tribe of Judah, which Jacob's Blessing likened to a lion; [116] and while the latter as Calub (Chelub) has Shuhah for brother, that is, the Sun descending into the kingdom of shadows (the Southern Hemisphere), [117] in like manner Joshua represents the Spring Sun rising out of the night of winter. They are thus both related to one another in the same way as the annual rise and decline of the sun, and as, according to Babylonian ideas, are Tammuz and Nergal, who similarly typify the two halves of the year. When Joshua dies at Timnath-heres, the place of the eclipse of the Sun (i.e., at the time of the summer solstice, at which the death of the Sun-God was celebrated [118]), he appears again as a kind of Tammuz, while the "lamentation" of the people at his death [119] alludes possibly to the lamentation at the death of the Sun-God. [120] It cannot be denied after all this that the conception of a suffering and dying Messiah was of extreme antiquity amongst the Israelites and was connected with the earliest nature-worship, although later it may indeed have become restricted and peculiar to certain exclusive circles. [121] The Jewish representative of Haman suffered death at the Feast of Purim on account of a crime, as a deserved punishment which had been awarded him. The Messiah Jesus, on the other hand, according to the words of Isaiah, took the punishment upon himself, being "just." He was capable of being an expiatory victim for the sins of the whole people, precisely because he least of all deserved such a fate. Plato had already in his "Republic" sketched the picture of a "just man" passing his life unknown and unhonoured amidst suffering and persecution. His righteousness is put to the proof and he reaches the highest degree of virtue, not allowing himself to be shaken in his conduct. "The just man is scourged, racked, thrown into prison, blinded in both eyes, and finally, when he has endured all ills, he is executed, and he recognises that one should be determined not to be just but to appear so." In Pharisaic circles he passed as a just man who by his own undeserved sufferings made recompense for the sins of the others and made matters right for them before God, as, for example, in the Fourth Book of the Maccabees the blood of the martyrs is represented as the expiatory offering on account of which God delivered Israel. The hatred of the unjust and godless towards the just, the reward of the just and the punishment of the unjust, were favourite themes for aphoristic literature, and they were fully dealt with in the Book of Wisdom, the Alexandrian author of which was presumably not unacquainted with the Platonic picture of the just man. He makes the godless appear conversing and weaving plots against the just. "Let us then," he makes them say, "lie in wait for the righteous; because he is not to our liking and he is clean contrary to our doings; he upbraideth us with our offending the law and reproacheth us with our sins against our training. He professeth to have the knowledge of God; and he calleth himself the child of the Lord. He proved to be to us for the reproof of our designs. He is grievous unto us even to behold: for his life is not like other men's, his ways are of another fashion. We are esteemed of him as counterfeits; he abstaineth from our ways as from filth; he pronounceth the end of the just to be blessed and maketh his boast that God is his father. Let us see if his words be true: and let us prove what will happen in the end of him. For if the just man be the son of God, he will help him, and deliver him from the hand of his enemies. Let us examine him with despitefulness and torture that we may know his meekness and prove his patience. Let us condemn him with a shameful death: thus will he be known by his words." [122] "But the souls of the just," continues the author of the Book of Wisdom, "are in the hands of God, and there shall no torment touch them. In the sight of the unwise they seemed to die: and their departure is taken for misery, and their going from us for utter destruction: but they are in peace. For though they be punished in the sight of men yet is their hopes full of immortality. And having been a little chastised, they shall be greatly rewarded: for God proved them and found them worthy for himself. As gold in the furnace hath he tried them, and received them as a burnt offering. And in the time of their visitation they shall shine and run to and fro like sparks among the stubble. They shall judge the nations and have dominion over the people and their Lord will rule for ever." [123] It could easily be imagined that these words, which were understood by the author of the Book of Wisdom of the just man in general, referred to the just man par excellence, the Messiah, the "son" of God in the highest sense of the word, who gave his life for the sins of his people. A reason was found at the same time for the shameful death of the Messiah. He died the object of the hatred of the unjust; he accepted contempt and scorn as did the Haman and Barabbas of the Feast of Purim, but only in order that by this deep debasement he might be raised up by God, as is said of the just man in the Book of Wisdom: "That is he whom we had sometimes in derision and a proverb of reproach: We fools accounted his life madness and his end to be without honour: Now is he numbered among the children of God, and his lot is among the saints." [124] Now we understand how the picture of the Messiah varied among the Jews between that of a divine and that of a human being; how he was "accounted just among the evil-doers"; how the idea became associated with a human being that he was a "Son of God" and at the same time "King of the Jews"; and how the idea could arise that in his shameful and undeserved death God had offered himself for mankind. Now too we can understand that he who died had after a short while to rise again from the dead, and this in order to ascend into heaven in splendour and glory and to unite himself with God the Father above. These were ideas which long before the Jesus of the Gospels were spread among the Jewish people, and indeed throughout the whole of Western Asia. In certain sects they were cherished as secret doctrines, and were the principal cause that precisely in this portion of the ancient world Christianity spread so early and with such unusual rapidity. V THE BIRTH OF THE MESSIAH. THE BAPTISM It is not only the idea of the just man suffering, of the Messiah dying upon the gibbet, as "King of the Jews" and a criminal, and his rising again, which belongs to the centuries before Christ. The stories which relate to the miraculous birth of Jesus and to his early fortunes also date back to this time. Thus in the Revelation of John [125] we meet with the obviously very ancient mythical idea of the birth of a divine child, who is scarcely brought into the world before he is threatened by the Dragon of Darkness, but is withdrawn in time into heaven from his pursuer; whereupon the Archangel Michael renders the monster harmless. Gunkel thinks that this conception must be traced back to a very ancient Babylonian myth. [126] Others, as Dupuis [127] and Dieterich, have drawn attention to its resemblance to the Greek myth of Leto, [128] who, before the birth of the Light god Apollo, being pursued by the Earth dragon Pytho, was carried by the Wind god Boreas to Poseidon, and was brought safely by the latter to the Island of Ortygia, where she was able to bring forth her son unmolested by the hostile monster. Others again, like Bousset, have compared the Egyptian myth of Hathor, according to which Hathor or Isis sent her young son, the Light god Horus, fleeing out of Egypt upon an ass before the pursuit of his uncle Seth or Typhon. Pompeian frescoes represent this incident in such a manner as to recall feature for feature the Christian representations of the flight of Mary with the Child Jesus into Egypt; and coins with the picture of the fleeing Leto prove how diffused over the whole of Nearer Asia this myth must have been. The Assyrian prince Sargon also, being pursued by his uncle, is said to have been abandoned on the Euphrates in a basket made of reeds, to have been found by a water-carrier, and to have been brought up by him--a story which the Jews have interwoven into the account of the life of their fabulous Moses. [129] And very similar stories are related both in East and West, in ancient and in later times, of other Gods, distinguished heroes and kings, sons of the Gods, of Zeus, Attis, Dionysus, OEdipus, Perseus, Romulus and Remus, Augustus, and others. As is well known, the Indian God-man Krishna, an incarnation of Vishnu, is supposed to have been sought for immediately after his birth by his uncle, King Kansa, who had all the male children of the same age in his country put to death, the child being only saved from a like fate by taking refuge with a poor herdsman. [130] This recalls Herodotus's story of Cyrus, [131] according to which Astyages, the grandfather of Cyrus, being warned by a dream, ordered his grandson to be exposed, the latter being saved from death, however, through being found by a poor herdsmen and being brought up in his house. Now in Persian the word for son is Cyrus (Khoro, [132] Greek Kyros), and Kyris or Kiris is the name of Adonis in Cyprus. [133] Thus it appears that the story of the birth of Cyrus came into existence through the transfer to King Cyrus of one of the myths concerning the Sun-God, the God in this way being confused with a human individual. Now since Cyrus, as has been said, was in the eyes of the Jews a kind of Messiah and was glorified by them as such, we can understand how the danger through which the Messianic child is supposed to have passed found a place in the Gospels. Again, a similar story of a king, who, having been warned by a dream or oracle, orders the death of the children born within a specified time, is found in the "Antiquities" of Josephus [134] in connection with the story of the childhood of Moses. Moses, however, passed like Cyrus for a kind of forerunner and anticipator of Christ; and Christ was regarded as a Moses reappearing. [135] Again Joab, David's general, is said to have slaughtered every male in Edom; the young prince Hadad, however, escaped the massacre by fleeing into Egypt. Here he grew up and married the sister of the king, and after the death of his enemy King David he returned to his home. [136] But Hadad is, like Cyrus, (Kyrus) a name of the Syrian Adonis. Another name of Adonis or Tammuz is Dôd, Dodo, Daud, or David. This signifies "the Beloved" and indicates "the beloved son" of the heavenly father, who offers himself for mankind, or "the Beloved" of the Queen of heaven (Atargatis, Mylitta, Istar). [137] As is well known, King David was also called "the man after the heart of God," and there is no doubt that characteristics of the divine Redeemer and Saviour of the same name have been intermingled in the story of David in the same way as in that of Cyrus. [138] According to Jeremiah xxx. 8 and Ezekiel xxxiv. 22 sqq. and xxxvii. 21, it was David himself who would appear as the Messiah and re-establish Israel in its ancient glory. Indeed, this even appears to have been the original conception of the Messiah. The Messiah David seems to have been changed into a descendant of David only with the progress of the monotheistic conception of God, under the influence of the Persian doctrine concerning Saoshyant, the man "of the seed of Zarathustra." Now David was supposed to have been born at Bethlehem. But in Bethlehem there was, as Jerome informs us, [139] an ancient grove and sanctuary of the Syrian Adonis, and as Jerome himself complains the very place where the Saviour first saw the light resounded with the lamentations over Tammuz. [140] At Bethlehem, the former Ephrata (i.e., Place of Ashes), Rachel is said to have brought forth the youngest of the twelve month-sons of Jacob. She herself had christened him Benoni, son of the woeful lament. He was, however, usually called Benjamin, the Lord or Possessor of light. In the Blessing of Moses he is also called "a Darling of the Lord," and his father Jacob loved him especially. [141] He is the God of the new year born of the ashes of the past, at whose appearance lament and rejoicings are commingled one with another; and thus he is only a form of Tammuz (Hadad) bringing to mind the Christian Redeemer in that he presided over the month of the Ram. [142] Now we understand the prophecy of the prophet Micah: "Thou Bethlehem Ephrathah, which art little to be among the thousands of Judah, out of thee shall one come forth unto me that is to be a ruler in Israel, whose going forth is from of old, from everlasting." [143] Now, too, the story of the slaughter of the children at Bethlehem has its background in religious history. It is said in Matt. ii. 18, with reference to Jer. xxxi. 15, "A voice was heard in Ramah, weeping and great mourning, Rachel weeping for her children, and she would not be comforted, because they are not." It is the lamentation of the women over the murdered Adonis which was raised each year at Bethlehem. This was transformed by the Evangelists into the lament over the murder of the children which took place at the birth of Hadad who was honoured at Bethlehem. [144] Hadad-Adonis is a God of Vegetation, a God of the rising sap of life and of fruitfulness: but, as was the case with all Gods of a similar nature, the thought of the fate of the sun, dying in winter and being born anew in the spring, played its part in the conception of this season God of Nearer Asia. Something of this kind may well have passed before the mind of Isaiah, when he foretold the future glory of the people of God under the image of a new birth of the sun from out of the blackness of night, with these "prophetic" words: "Arise, shine, for thy light has come and the glory of the Lord is risen upon thee. For behold darkness shall cover the earth and gross darkness the peoples: but the Lord shall arise upon thee, and his glory shall be seen upon thee. And nations shall come to thy light, and kings to the brightness of thy rising.... The abundance of the sea shall be turned unto thee, the wealth of the nations shall come unto thee. The multitude of camels shall cover thee, the dromedaries of Midian and Ephah. They all shall come from Sheba: they shall bring gold and frankincence, and shall proclaim the praises of the Lord." [145] As is well known, later generations were continually setting out this idea in a still more exuberant form. The imagination of the enslaved and impoverished Jews feasted upon the thought that the nations and their princes would do homage to the Messiah with gifts, while uncounted treasures poured into the temple at Jerusalem: "Princes shall come out of Egypt, Ethiopia shall haste to stretch out her hands unto God. Sing unto God ye kingdoms of the earth." [146] This is the foundation of the Gospel story of the "Magi," who lay their treasures at the feet of the new-born Christ and his "virgin mother." But that we have here in reality to do with the new birth of the sun at the time of the winter solstice appears from the connection between the Magi, or kings, and the stars. For these Magi are nothing else than the three stars in the sword-belt of Orion, which at the winter solstice are opposed in the West to the constellation of the Virgin in the East; stars which according to Persian ideas at this time seek the son of the Queen of Heaven--that is, the lately rejuvenated sun, Mithras. [147] Now, as it has been said, Hadad also is a name of the Sun-God, and the Hadad of the Old Testament returns to his original home out of Egypt, whither he had fled from David. Thus we can understand how Hosea xi. 1, "I called my son out of Egypt," could be referred to the Messiah and how the story that Jesus passed his early youth in Egypt was derived from it. [148] It may be fairly asked how it was that the sun came to be thus honoured by the people of Western Asia, with lament at its death and rejoicing at its new birth. For winter, the time of the sun's "death," in these southern countries offered scarcely any grounds at all for lament. It was precisely the best part of the year. The night, too, having regard to its coolness after the heat of the day, gave no occasion for desiring the new birth of the sun in the morning. We are compelled to suppose that in the case of all the Gods of this nature the idea of the dying away of vegetation during the heat of the year and its revival had become intertwined and commingled with that of the declining and reviving strength of the sun. Thus, from this mingling of two distinct lines of thought, we have to explain the variations of the double-natured character of the Sun-Gods and Vegetation-Gods of Western Asia. [149] It is obvious, however, that the sun can only be regarded from such a tragic standpoint in a land where, and in the myths of a people for whom, it possesses in reality such a decisive significance that there are grounds for lamenting its absence or lack of strength during winter and for an anxious expectation of its return and revival. [150] But it is chiefly in the highlands of Iran and the mountainous hinterland of Asia Minor that this is the case to such an extent as to make this idea one of the central points of religious belief. Even here it points back to a past time when the people concerned still had their dwelling-place along with the kindred Aryan tribes in a much more northerly locality. [151] Thus Mithras, the "Sol invictus" of the Romans, struggling victoriously through night and darkness, is a Sun hero, who must have found his way into Persia from the north. This is shown, amongst other things, by his birthday being celebrated on the 25th of December, the day of the winter solstice. Again, the birth of the infant Dionysus, who was so closely related to the season Gods of Nearer Asia, used to be celebrated as the feast of the new birth of the sun at about the same time, the God being then honoured as Liknites, as "the infant in the cradle" (the winnowing-fan). The Egyptians celebrated the birth of Osiris on the 6th of January, on which occasion the priests produced the figure of an infant from the sanctuary, and showed it to the people as a picture of the new-born God. [152] That the Phrygian Attis came thither with the Aryans who made their way from Thrace into Asia Minor, and must have had his home originally in Northern Europe, appears at once from the striking resemblance of the myth concerning him with that of the northern myth of Balder. There can be no doubt that the story in Herodotus of Atys, son of Croesus, who while out boar hunting accidently met his death from the spear of his friend, only gives another version of the Attis myth. This story, however, so closely resembles that of the death of Balder, given in the Edda, that the theory of a connection between them is inevitably forced upon one's mind. In the Edda the wife of Balder is called Nanna. But Nanna (i.e., "mother") was according to Arnobius [153] the name of the mother of the Phrygian Attis. Now the Sun and Summer God Balder is only a form of Odin, the Father of Heaven, with summer attributes, and he too is said, like Attis, Adonis and Osiris, to have met his death through a wild boar. Just as anemones sprang from the blood of the slain Adonis and violets from that of Attis, so also the blood of the murdered Odin (Hackelbernd) is said to have been changed into spring flowers. [154] At the great feast of Attis in March a post or pine-tree trunk decked with violets, on which the picture of the God was hung, used to form the central point of the rite. This was a reminder of the way in which in ancient times the human representative of the God passed from life to death, in order by sacrifice to revive exhausted nature. According to the verses of the Eddic Havamal, Odin says of himself:-- "I know that I hang on the wind-rocked tree Throughout nine nights, Wounded by the spear, dedicated to Odin, I myself to myself." [155] By this self-sacrifice and the agonies which he endured, the northern God, too, obtained new strength and life. For on this occasion he not only discovered the Runes of magic power, the knowledge of which made him lord over nature, but he obtained possession at the same time of the poetic mead which gave him immortality and raised the Nature God to be a God of spiritual creative power and of civilisation. This is obviously the same idea as is again found in the cult of Attis and in the belief in the death of the God. The relationship of all these different views seems still more probable in that a sacrificial rite lay at the root of the Balder myth also. This myth is only, so to speak, the text of a religious drama which was performed every year for the benefit of dying nature--a drama in which a man representing the God was delivered over to death. [156] As all this refers to the fate of a Sun God, who dies in winter to rise again in the spring, the same idea must have been associated originally with the worship of the Nearer Asiatic Gods of vegetation and fruitfulness, and this idea was only altered under changed climatic conditions into that of the death and resurrection of the plant world, without, however, losing in its new form its original connection with the sun and winter. At the same time the myth of the Sun God does not take us to the very basis and the real kernel of the stories of the divine child's birth. The Persian religion was not so much a religion of Light and Sun as of Fire, the most important and remarkable manifestation of which was of course the sun. Dionysus too, like all Gods of the life-warmth, of the rising plant sap and of fruitfulness, was in his deepest nature a Fire God. In the Fire Religion, however, the birth of the God forms the centre of all religious ideas; and its form was more exactly fixed through the peculiar acts by means of which the priest rekindled the holy fire. For the manner in which this occurred we have the oldest authentic testimony in the religious records of the Indian Aryans. Here Agni, as indeed his name (ignis, fire) betokens, passed for the divine representative of the Fire Element. His mystic birth was sung in numberless passages in the hymns of the Rigveda. At dawn, as soon as the brightening morning star in the east announced that the sun was rising, the priest called his assistants together and kindled the fire upon a mound of earth by rubbing together two sticks (aranî) in which the God was supposed to be hidden. As soon as the spark shone in the "maternal bosom," the soft underpart of the wood, it was treated as an "infant child." It was carefully placed upon a little heap of straw, which at once took fire from it. On one side lay the mystic "cow"--that is, the milk-pail and a vessel full of butter, as types of all animal nourishment--upon the other the holy Soma draught, representing the sap of plants, the symbol of life. A priest fanned it with a small fan shaped like a banner, thereby stirring up the fire. The "child" was then raised upon the altar. The priests turned up the fire with long-handled spoons, pouring upon the flames melted butter (ghrita) together with the Soma cup. From this time "Agni" was called "the anointed" (Akta). The fire flickered high. The God was unfolding his majesty. With his flames he scared away the dæmons of darkness, and lighted up the surrounding shadows. All creatures were invited to come and gaze upon the wonderful spectacle. Then with presents the Gods (kings) hastened from heaven and the herdsmen from the fields, cast themselves down in deep reverence before the new-born, praying to it and singing hymns in its praise. It grew visibly before their eyes. The new-born Agni already had become "the teacher" of all living creatures, "the wisest of the wise," opening to mankind the secrets of existence. Then, while everything around him grew bright and the sun rose over the horizon, the God, wreathed in a cloud of smoke, with the noise of darting flames, ascended to heaven, and was united there with the heavenly light. [157] Thus in ancient India the holy fire was kindled anew each morning, and honoured with ritualistic observances (Agnihotra). This took place, however, with special ceremony at the time of the winter solstice, when the days began again to increase (Agnistoma). They then celebrated the end of the time "of darkness," the Pitryana, or time of the Manes, during which the worship of the Gods had been at a standstill. Then the Angiras, the priestly singers, summoned the Gods to be present, greeting with loud song the beginning of the "holy" season, the Devayana, with which the new light arose. Agni and the other Gods again returned to men, and the priests announced to the people the "joyful tidings" (Evangelium) that the Light God had been born again. As Hillebrand has shown, this festival also indicates the memory of an earlier home in the North whence the Aryan tribes had migrated, since in India, where the shortest and longest days only differ by about four hours, no reason exists for celebrating the "return" of the light. [158] Indeed, it appears that we have to do here with a rite which reaches back into the very origins of all human civilisation, and preserves the memory of the discovery of fire in the midst of the horrors of the Stone Age. There is no doubt that we have before us in the Vedic Agni Cult the original source of all the stories of the birth of the Fire-Gods and Sun-Gods. These Gods usually enter life in darkness and concealment. Thus the Cretan Zeus was born in a cavern, Mithras, Dionysus, and Hermes in a gloomy grotto, Horus in the "stable" (temple) of the holy cow (Isis)--Jesus, too, was born at dead of night in a lowly "stable" [159] at Bethlehem. The original ground for this consists in the fact that Agni, in the form of a spark, comes into existence in the dark hollow of the hole bored in the stick. The Hymns of the Rigveda often speak of this "secret birth" and of the "concealment" of Agni. They describe the Gods as they set out in order to seek the infant. They make the Angiras discover it "lying in concealment," and it grows up in hiding. [160] But the idea of the Fire-God being born in a "stable" is also foreshadowed in the Rigveda. For not only are the vessels of milk and butter ready for the anointing compared with cows, but Ushas, too, the Goddess of Dawn, who is present at the birth, is called a red milch-cow, and of men it is said that they flocked "like cows to a warm stable" to see Agni, whom his mother held lovingly upon her lap. [161] It is a common fundamental feature of all Nature religions that they distinguish between the particular and the general, between earthly and heavenly events, between human acts and natural occurrences as little as they do between the spiritual and natural. The Agni Cult shows, as does the Vedic religion in general, this interplay of the earthly and heavenly world, of the microcosmic individual and the macrocosm. The kindling of the fire upon the earth at the same time betokened the rising of the great light of the skies, the sun. The fire upon the altar did not merely represent but actually was the sun, the earthly and the heavenly Agni were one. Thus it was that the nations of antiquity were able to think of transferring earthly events into heaven, and conversely were able to read earthly events in heavenly occurrences such as the relations of the stars to one another. It was on this that astrology rested. Even the ancient Fire Worship appears in very early times to have been transformed into astrology, and what was in the beginning a simple act of worship was generalised by the priests in a macrocosmic sense and was transferred to the starry heavens as a forecast. Thus the altar or place of sacrifice upon which the sacred fire was kindled was enlarged into the Vault of the Spheres or Grotto of the Planets. Through this the sun completed its annual journey among the twelve signs of the Zodiac, and in so doing assumed successively the form and fulfilled the functions of that constellation with which it entered into astronomical relations. The metaphorical name of "stable" for the place of sacrifice attains a new significance from the fact that the sun during a certain epoch of the world (something between 3000 and 800 B.C.) at the beginning of spring passed through the constellation of the Bull, and at the time of the winter solstice commenced its course between the Ox (Bull) and the Great Bear, which anciently was also called the Ass. [162] The birth of the God is said to have been in secret because it took place at night. His mother is a "virgin" since at midnight of the winter solstice the constellation of the Virgin is on the eastern horizon. [163] Shortly afterwards Draco, the Dragon (the snake Pytho), rises up over Libra, the Balance, and seems to pursue the Virgin. From this comes the story of the Winter Dragon threatening Leto, or Apollo; or, as it is also found in the Myth of Osiris and the Apocalypse of John, the story of the pursuit of the child of light by a hostile principle (Astyages, Herod, &c.). [164] Unknown and in concealment the child grows up. This refers to the course of the sun as it yet stands low in the heavens. Or like Sargon, Dionysus, or Moses it is cast in a basket upon the waters of some great stream or of the sea, since the sun in its wanderings through the Zodiac has next to pass through the so-called watery region, the signs of the Water-carrier and the Fishes, the rainy season of winter. Thus can the fate of the new-born be read in the sky. The priests (Magi) cast his horoscope like that of any other child. They greet his birth with loud rejoicings, bring him myrrh, incense and costly presents, while prophesying for him a glorious future. The earthly Agni is completely absorbed in the heavenly one; and in the study of the great events which are portrayed in the sky, the simple act of sacrificial worship, which had originally furnished the opportunity for this whole range of ideas, gradually fell into oblivion. [165] It has been often maintained that Indian influences have worked upon the development of the story of the childhood of Jesus, and in this connection we are accustomed to think of Buddhism. Now, as a matter of fact, the resemblances between the Christian and Buddhist legends are so close that we can scarcely imagine it to be a mere coincidence. Jesus and Buddha are both said to have been born of a "pure virgin," honoured by heavenly spirits at their birth, prayed to by kings and loaded with presents. "Happy is the whole world," sing the Gods under the form of young Brahmins at the birth of the child--as we are told in the Lalita Vistara, the legendary biography of Buddha, dating from before Christ, "for he is indeed born who brings salvation and will establish the world in blessedness. He is born who will darken sun and moon by the splendour of his merits and will put all darkness to flight. The blind see, the deaf hear, the demented are restored to reason. No natural crimes afflict us any longer, for upon the earth men have become righteous. Gods and men can in future approach each other without hostility, since he will be the guide of their pilgrimage." [166] Just as the significance of Jesus was announced beforehand by Simeon, in the same way according to the Buddhist legend, the Seer Asita foresees in his own mind the greatness of the child and bursts into tears since he will not see him in the splendour of his maturity and will have no part in his work of redemption. Again, just as Jesus [167] even in his early youth astonished the learned by his wisdom, so Prince Siddharta (Buddha) put all his teachers at school to shame by his superior knowledge, and so on. The Buddhist legend itself, however, goes back to a still older form, which is the Vedic Agni Cult. All its various features are here preserved in their simplest form and in their original relation to the sacrificial worship of the Fire-God. This was the natural source of the Indian and Christian legends, and it was the original of those myths which the Evangelist worked up for his own purposes, which according to Pfleiderer belonged "to the common tribal property of the national sagas of Nearer Asia." [168] Again, it could the more easily reappear in the Evangelists' version of the story of the childhood of Jesus, since the sacrificial act had been re-interpreted mythologically, and the corresponding myths transformed into astrology, and, as it were, written with starry letters upon the sky, where they could be read without trouble by the most distant peoples of antiquity. The myth of Krishna offers a characteristic example of the manner in which in India a sacrificial cult is changed into a myth. Like Astyages and Herod, in order to ward off the danger arising from his sister's son, of which he had been warned by an oracle, King Kansa caused his sister and her husband Vasudewa to be cast into prison. Here, in the darkness of a dungeon, Krishna comes into the world as Jesus did in the stable at Bethlehem. The nearer the hour of birth approaches the more beautiful the mother becomes. Soon the whole dungeon is filled with light. Rejoicing choirs sound in the air, the waters of the rivers and brooks make sweet music. The Gods come down from heaven and blessed spirits dance and sing for joy. At midnight his mother Dewaki (i.e., the divine) brings the child into the world, at the commencement of a new epoch. The parents themselves fall down before him and pray, but a voice from heaven admonishes them to convey him from the machinations of the tyrant to Gokala, the land of the cow, and to exchange him for the daughter of the herdsman Nanda. Immediately the chains fall from the father's hands, the dungeon doors are opened, and he passes out into freedom. Another Christopher, he bears the child upon his shoulders through the river Yamuna, the waters of which recede in reverence before the son of God, and he exchanges Krishna for the new-born daughter of Nanda. He then returns to the dungeon, where the chains again immediately fasten of their own accord upon his limbs. Kansa now makes his way into the dungeon. In vain Dewaki entreats her brother to leave her the child. He is on the point of tearing it forcibly from her hands when it disappears before his eyes, and Kansa gives the order that all newly-born children in his country under the age of two years shall be killed. At Mathura in Gokala Krishna grew up unknown among poor herdsmen. While yet in his cradle he had betrayed his divine origin by strangling, like Hercules, a dreadful snake which crawled upon him. He causes astonishment to every one by his precosity and lofty wisdom. As he grows up he becomes the darling of the herdsmen and playmate of Gopias, the milkmaid; he performs the most astonishing miracles. When, however, the time had come he arose and slew Kansa. He then fought the frightful "Time Snake" Kaliyanaga, of the thousand heads (the Hydra in the myth of Hercules, the Python in that of Apollo), which poisoned the surrounding air with its pestilential breath; and he busied himself in word and deed as a protector of the poor and proclaimer of the most perfect teaching. His greatest act, however, was his descent into the Underworld. Here he overpowered Yama, the dark God of death, obtained from him a recognition of his divine power, and led back the dead with him to a new life. Thus he was a benefactor of mankind by his heroic strength and miraculous power, leading the purest life, healing the sick, bringing the dead back to life, disclosing the secrets of the world, and withal humbly condescending to wash the feet of the Brahmins. Krishna finally died of an arrow wound which he sustained accidentally and in an unforeseen manner on his heel--the only vulnerable part of his body (cf. Achilles, Balder, Adonis, and Osiris). While dying he delivered the prophecy that thirty-six years after his death the fourth Epoch of the World, Caliyuga, the Iron Age, would begin, in which men would be both unhappy and wicked. But according to Brahmin teaching Krishna will return at the end of all time, when bodily and moral need will have reached its highest pitch upon the earth. In the clouds of heaven he will appear upon his white steed. With a comet in his right hand as a sword of flame he will destroy the old earth by fire, founding a new earth and a new heaven, and establishing a golden age of purity and perfection in which there will be nothing but pure joy and blessedness. This reminds us strongly of the Persian Eschatology, of Mithras and Saoshyant, and of the Jewish Apocalyptics. But following the ancient sacred poem, the Barta Chastram, the former conception as well as the doctrine of a Messiah rest upon a prophecy according to which Vishnu Jesudu (!) was to be born a Brahmin in the city of Skambelam. He was to hold intercourse with men as a God, to purify the earth from sin, making it the abode of justice and truth, and to offer a sacrifice (self-sacrifice?). But still more striking are the resemblances of the Krishna myth with the Gospels. Does any connection between the two exist? The question is hard to answer because, owing to the uncertainty in all Indian citation of dates, the age of the story of Krishna cannot be settled. In the oldest Indian literature, the Vedas, Krishna appears to be the name of a Dæmon. In the Mahâbbhârata, the great Indian heroic epic, he plays indeed a prominent part, and is here on the point of assuming the place of the God Indra. The age of the poem, however, is debatable, although it is probably of pre-Buddhist origin. The chief source of the Krishna myth is the Puranas, especially the Bhagavat Purana and Vishnu Parana. But since the antiquity of these also is uncertain, and their most modern portions presumably belong only to the eighth or ninth century of the Christian era, a decision as to the date of the appearance of the Krishna myth can only be arrived at from internal evidence. Now the Pantanjalis Mahâbhashya, i.e., "Great Commentary," of the second century before Christ, shows that the story of Kansa's death at the hands of Krishna was at that time well known in India, and was even the subject of a religious drama. Thus the story of the birth at least of Krishna, who had already been raised to be a Cult God of the Hindoos, cannot have been unknown. The other portions of the myth, however, belong as a whole to the general circle of Indian ideas, and are in part only transferred from other Gods to Krishna. Thus, for example, the miraculous birth of the divine child in the darkness, his precosity, his upbringing among the herdsmen, and his friendship with Gopias, remind us of Agni, the God of Fire and Herdsmen, who also is described in the Rigveda as a "friend and lover of the maidens" (of the Cloud Women?). His combat with the Time Snake, on the other hand, is copied from the fight of Indra with the wicked dragon Vritra or Ahi. Again, in his capacity as purifier and deliverer of the world from evil and dæmons the God bears such a striking resemblance to Hercules, that Megasthenes, the ambassador of Seleucus at the court of the king at Pataliputra, in the third century before Christ, simply identified him with the latter. No impartial critic of the matter can now doubt that the Krishna myth was in existence and was popularised long before Christianity appeared in the world. The great importance, however, which the God possesses in present-day India may have been attained only during the Christian era, and the Puranas may have been composed only after the appearance of the Gospels; for their being written down later proves nothing against the antiquity of the matter they contain. It appears that even Buddhism did not obtain its corresponding legends direct from the Vedas, but through the channel of the Krishna myth. Since, however, Buddhism is certainly at least four hundred years older than Christianity, it must be assumed that it was the former which introduced the Krishna myth to Christianity, and not vice versâ, if we are not to consider the Babylonian-Mandaic religion as the intermediary between Krishna and Christ. [169] For the rest the supposition of Indian influences in the Gospel story is not by any means an improbable one. It is pure theological prejudice, resting upon a complete ignorance of the conditions of national intercourse in ancient times, when it is denied, as, for example, by Clemen in his "Religionsgeschichtlichen Erklärung des Neuen Testaments" (1909), that the Gospels were influenced by Indian ideas, or when only a dependence the other way about is allowed; [170] and this although Buddha left to his disciples, as one of the highest precepts, the practice of missionary activity, and although as early as 400 B.C. mention is made in Indian sources of Buddhist missionaries in Bactria. Two hundred years later we read of Buddhist monasteries in Persia. Indeed, in the last century before the Christian era the Buddhist mission in Persia had made such progress that Alexander Polyhistor actually speaks of a period during which Buddhism flourished in that country, and bears witness to the spread of the Mendicant Orders in the western parts of Persia. Buddhism also reached Syria and Egypt at that time with the trade caravans; as we have to suppose a frequent exchange of wares and ideas between India and the countries of the Eastern Mediterranean, especially after the campaigns of Alexander. Communication took place, not only overland by way of Persia, but by sea as well. Indian thought made advances in the Near East, where Alexandria, the London and Antwerp of antiquity, and a headquarters of Jewish syncretism, favoured the exchange of ideas. With the rediscovery of the South-west Monsoon at the beginning of the first century after Christ the intercourse by sea between India and the Western world assumed still greater dimensions. Thus Pliny speaks of great trading fleets setting out annually for India and of numerous Indian merchants who had their fixed abode in Alexandria. Indian embassies came to Rome as early as the reign of Augustus. The renown of Indian piety caused the author of the Peregrinus Proteus to choose the Indian Calanus as an example of holiness. Indeed, so lively was the Western world's interest in the intellectual life of India, that the library at Alexandria, as early as the time of the geographer Eratosthenes under Ptolemy Euergetes (246 B.C.), was administered with special regard to Indian studies. The monastic organisation of the Essenes in Palestine also very probably points to Buddhist influence. Again, although the Rigveda, which contains the groundwork of all Indian religions, may have been unknown in Nearer Asia, yet the Fire Worship of the Mazda religion at any rate reaches back to the time before the division between the Indian and Persian Aryans. Certain fundamental ideas, therefore, of the Fire Religion may through Persian influences on Nearer Asia have been known to the surrounding peoples. [171] As a matter of fact, the Mandaic religion contains much that is Indian. This is the less strange considering that the headquarters and centre of Mandaism was in Southern Babylonia; and the ancient settlements of the Mandæi, close to the Persian Gulf, were easily reached by sea from India. Moreover, from ancient times Babylonian trade went down to India and Ceylon. [172] Consequently it is by no means improbable that the many remarkable resemblances between the Babylonian and Indian religions rest upon mutual influences. Indeed, in one case the borrowing of a Mandaic idea from India can be looked upon as quite certain. The Lalita Vistara begins with a description of Buddha's ante-natal life in heaven. He teaches the Gods the "law," the eternal truth of salvation, and announces to them his intention of descending into the bosom of an earthly woman in order to bring redemption to mankind. In vain the Gods endeavour to hold him back and cling weeping to his feet: "Noble man, if thou remainest here no longer, this abode of heaven will be bright no more." He leaves them, however, a successor, and consecrates him solemnly to be the possessor of the future dignity of Buddha: "Noble man, thou art he who will be endowed after me with the perfect intelligence of a Buddha." [173] "Man" (Purusha) is thus here the usual name for the divine nature of Buddha destined for individual incarnations. It is also called the "great man" (Mahapurusha) or the "victorious lord" (Cakravartin). Here we have the original of the Mandaic "son of man," whom we meet with in the Jewish Apocalyptics (Daniel, Enoch, Ezra), a figure which plays so great a part in the primitive Gospel records of Christianity, and has called forth so many explanations. And the Elcesaitic Gnostics teach a like doctrine when they imagine the "son of man," or Christ, as a heavenly spirit and king of the world to come who became incarnate first in Adam, then in Enoch, Noah, Abraham, Isaac, Jacob and so on, in order finally to appear by a supernatural virgin-birth in the person of Jesus, and to illumine the dark earth by his true message of salvation. [174] Of all the Gods of the Rigveda Agni bears the closest relationship to the Perso-Jewish Messiah, and it is he also who stands closest to man's soul. He is rightly called king of the universe, as God of Gods, who created the world and called into life all beings that are upon it. He is the lord of the heavenly hosts, the guardian of the cosmic order and judge of the world, who is present as an invisible witness of all human acts, who as a "knower of nature" works in every living thing, and as a party to all earthly secrets illuminates the unknown. Sent down by his father, the Sky-God or Sun-God, he appears as the "light of the world." He releases this world from the Powers of Darkness and returns to his father with the "Banner of Smoke" in his hand as a token of victory. Agni blazes forth in the lightning flash from out of the watercloud, the "sea of the sky," in order to annihilate the Dæmons of Darkness and to release oppressed humanity from the fear of its tormentors. Thus, according to Isaiah xi., 4, the Messiah too will burn his enemies with the fiery breath of his mouth; and in this he is clearly a Fire-God. Again, in the Apocalypse of Esdras (chap. xiii.) the Seer beholds the "Son of Man" (Purusha) rise up from out of the sea, fly upon the clouds of heaven, destroy the hostile forces by the stream of fire which proceeded from his mouth, free the scattered Israelites from their captivity and lead them back into their country. [175] But this "first-born" son of the Sun-God and the Sky-God is at the same time the father and ancestor of men, the first man (Purusha), the head of the community of mankind, the guardian of the house and of the domestic flock, who keeps from the threshold the evil spirits and the enemies who lurk in the darkness. Agni enters the dwellings of men as guest, friend (Mitra), companion, brother and consoler of those who honour him. He is the messenger between this world and the beyond, communicating the wishes of men to the Gods above, and announcing to men the will of the Gods. He is a mediator between God and men who makes a report to the Gods of everything of which he becomes aware among mankind. Although indeed he takes revenge for the men's faults yet he is a gracious God, disposed to forgive, in his capacity of an expiatory, propitiatory and redeeming power, atoning for their sins and bringing them the divine grace. Finally, he is also the guide of souls--he conducts the Gods down to the sacrifices offered by man and makes ready for men the path upon which he leads them up to God. And when their time has come he, as the purifying fire, consumes their bodies and carries that which is immortal to heaven. [176] Agni's father is, as has been said, the sky, or rather the light, the sun, the source of all warmth and life upon the earth. He bears the name of Savitar, which means "creator" or "mover," is called "the lord of creation," "the father of all life," "the living one," or "the heavenly father" simply. [177] At the same time Tvashtar also passes as the father of Agni. His name characterises him simply as modeller (world-modeller) or work-master, divine artist, skilful smith, or "carpenter," in which capacity he sharpens Brihaspati's axe, and, indeed, is himself represented with a hatchet in his hand. [178] He appears to have attained this rôle as being the discoverer of the artificial kindling of fire, by means of which any fashioning (welding), any art in the higher sense of the word became possible, as being the preparer of the apparatus for obtaining fire by friction or rotation--"the fire cradle"--which consisted of carefully chosen wood of a specified form and kind. Finally, the production of fire is ascribed to Matariçvan also, the God of the Wind identical with Vayu, because fire cannot burn without air, and it is the motion of the breeze which fans the glimmering spark. [179] All of these different figures are identical with one another, and can mutually take the place one of another, for they are all only different manifestations of warmth. It is this which reveals itself as well in the lightning of the sky and motion of the air, as in the glimmering of the fire, and not only as the principle of life, but also as that of thought and of knowledge or the "word" (Vâc, Veda), appearing on the one side as the productive, life-giving, and fructifying power of nature, on the other as the creative, inspiring spirit. This is the reason why, among the ancients, the God of life and fertility was in his essential nature a Fire-God, and why the three figures of the divine "father," "son," and "spirit," in spite of the differences of their functions, could be looked upon without inconsistency as one and the same being. As is well known, Jesus, too, had three fathers, namely, his heavenly father, Jahwe, the Holy Spirit, and also his earthly father, Joseph. The latter is also a work-master, artizan, or "carpenter," as the word "tekton" indicates. Similarly, Kinyras, the father of Adonis, is said to have been some kind of artizan, a smith or carpenter. That is to say, he is supposed to have invented the hammer and the lever and roofing as well as mining. In Homer he appears as the maker of the ingenious coat of mail which Agamemnon received from him as a guest-friend. [180] The father of Hermes also is an artizan. Now Hermes closely resembles Agni as well as Jesus. He is the "good messenger," the Euangelos; that is, the proclaimer of the joyful message of the redemption of souls from the power of death. He is the God of sacrifices, and as such "mediator" between heaven and earth. He is the "guide of souls" (Psychopompos) and "bridegroom of souls" (beloved of Psyche). He is also a God of fertility, a guardian of the flocks, who is represented in art as the "good shepherd," the bearer of the ram, a guide upon the roads of earth, a God of the door-hinge (Strophaios) and guardian of the door, [181] a god of healing as well as of speech, the model of all human reason, in which capacity he was identified by the Stoics with the Logos that dwelt within the world. [182] Just as in the Rigveda Tvashtar stands with Savitar, the divine father of Agni, and Joseph the "carpenter" with Jahwe, as father of the divine mediator, so the divine artificer, Hephaistos, whose connection with Tvashtar is obvious, is looked upon together with Zeus, the father of heaven, as the begetter of Hermes. [183] Now if Joseph, as we have already seen, was originally a God, Mary, the mother of Jesus, was a Goddess. Under the name of Maya she is the mother of Agni, i.e., the principle of motherhood and creation simply, as which she is in the Rigveda at one time represented by the fire-producing wood, the soft pith, in which the fire-stick was whirled; at another as the earth, with which the sky has mated. She appears under the same name as the mother of Buddha as well as of the Greek Hermes. She is identical with Maira (Maera) as, according to Pausanias, viii. 12, 48, the Pleiad Maia, wife of Hephaistos, was called. She appears among the Persians as the "virgin" mother of Mithras. As Myrrha she is the mother of the Syrian Adonis; as Semiramis, mother of the Babylonian Ninus (Marduk). In the Arabic legend she appears under the name of Mirzam as mother of the mythical saviour Joshua, while the Old Testament gives this name to the virgin sister of that Joshua who was so closely related to Moses; and, according to Eusebius, [184] Merris was the name of the Egyptian princess who found Moses in a basket and became his foster-mother. After all this it seems rather naïve to believe that the parents of the "historical" Jesus were called Joseph and Mary, and that his father was a carpenter. In reality the whole of the family and home life of the Messiah, Jesus, took place in heaven among the Gods. It was only reduced to that of a human being in lowly circumstances by the fact that Paul described the descent of the Messiah upon the earth as an assumption of poverty and a relinquishment of his heavenly splendour. [185] Hence, when the myth was transformed into history, Christ was turned into a "poor" man in the economic sense of the word, while Joseph, the divine artificer and father of the sun, became an ordinary carpenter. Now it is a feature which recurs in all the religions of Nearer Asia that the "son" of the divine "virgin" mother is at the same time the "beloved" of this Goddess in the sexual sense of the word. This is the case not only with Semiramis and Ninus, Istar and Tammuz, Atargatis (Aphrodite) and Adonis, Cybele and Attis, but also with Aphrodite (Maia) and Hermes, [186] Maia and Iasios, one of the Cabiri, identical with Hermes or Cadmus, who was slain by his father, Zeus, with a lightning stroke, but was raised again and placed in the sky as a constellation. [187] We may conclude from the connection between Iasios and Joshua that a similar relationship existed between the latter and his mother Mirzam. Indeed, a glimmer of this possibly appears even in the Gospels in the relationship of the various Maries to Jesus, although, of course, in accordance with the character of these writings, they are transferred into quite a different sphere and given other emotional connections. [188] Now in Hebrew the word "spirit" (ruach) is of feminine gender. As a consequence of this the Holy Ghost was looked upon by the Nassenes and the earliest Christians as the "mother" of Jesus. Indeed, it appears that in their view the birth of the divine son was only consummated by the baptism and the descent of the Spirit. According to the Gospels which we possess, on the occasion of the baptism in the Jordan a voice from above uttered these words: "Thou art my beloved son; in thee I am well pleased." [189] On the other hand, in an older reading of the passage in question in Luke, which was in use as late as the middle of the fourth century, it runs, in agreement with Psalm ii. 7: "Thou art my son, this day have I begotten thee." In this case the spirit who speaks these words is regarded as a female being. This is shown by the dove which descends from heaven, for this was the holy bird, the symbol of the Mother Goddess of Nearer Asia. [190] But it was not the Nassenes alone (Ophites) who called the Holy Spirit "the first word" and "the mother of all living things:" [191] other Gnostic sects, such as the Valentinians, regarded the Spirit which descended in the shape of a dove as the "word of the mother from above, of wisdom." [192] Viewed in this sense, baptism also passed in the Mysteries as a new birth. Indeed, its Greek name, photisma or photismós (i.e., illumination), clearly indicates its origin in fire-worship. Thus, when Justin [193] too speaks of a flame appearing at the baptism of Jesus, he alludes thereby to the connection between that solemn act and the birth of a Fire-God. [194] Ephrem, the Syrian composer of hymns, makes the Baptist say to Jesus: "A tongue of fire in the air awaits thee beyond the Jordan. If thou followest it and wilt be baptized, then undertake to purify thyself, for who can seize a burning fire with his hands? Thou who art all fire have mercy upon me." [195] In Luke iii. 16 and Matt. iii. 11 it is said in the same sense: "I indeed baptize you with water; but there cometh he that is mightier than I.... He shall baptize you with the Holy Ghost and with fire." And in Luke xii. 49 sq. we read the words: "I came to cast fire upon the earth: and what will I, if it is already kindled? But I have a baptism to be baptized with." Here is a reference to fire falling upon the eyes and being made to blaze up by "baptism," that is, the pouring on of a nourishing liquid, as we have seen in the worship of Agni. [196] Just as John, who was closely related to the Essenes, baptized the penitents in the Jordan in the open air, so also the Mandæi, whose connection with the Essenes is extremely probable, used to perform baptisms in flowing water only, on which account they were also called "the Christians of John" in later times. This custom among them was obviously connected with the fact that Hibil Ziwâ, who was venerated by them as a Redeemer, was a form of Marduk, and the latter was a son of the great Water-God, Ea; he thus incorporated the healing and cleansing powers of water in himself. On the other hand, as has been already said, the "anointing" of the God in the Agni Cult with milk, melted butter, and the fluid Soma, served to strengthen the vital powers of the divine child and to bring the sparks slumbering in the fire-wood to a blaze. There is no doubt that this idea was also present in the baptism as it was usually practised in the mystic cults. By baptism the newly admitted member was inwardly "enlightened." Often enough, too, for example, in the Mysteries of Mithras, with the ceremony there was also associated the actual flashing forth of a light, the production of the Cult God himself manifested in light. [197] By this means the faithful were "born again," in the same way as Agni was "baptized" at his birth, and thereby enabled to shine forth brightly and to reveal the disorder of the world hidden in the darkness. "The world was swallowed up, veiled in darkness, Light appeared, when Agni was born." [198] "Shining brightly, Agni flashes forth far and wide, He makes everything plain in splendour." [199] A complete understanding of the baptism in the Jordan can only be attained if here, too, we take into consideration the translation of the baptism into astrological terms. In other words, it appears that John the Baptist, as we meet him in the Gospels, was not an historical personage. Apart from the Gospels he is mentioned by Josephus only, [200] and this passage, although it was known to Origen [201] in early days, is exposed to a strong suspicion of being a forgery by some Christian hand. [202] Again, the account in the Gospels of the relations between John and Jesus is full of obscurities and contradictions, as has been pointed out by Strauss. These, however, disappear as soon as we recognise that under the name John, which in Hebrew means "pleasing to God," is concealed the Babylonian Water-God, Oannes (Ea). Baptism is connected with his worship, and the baptism of Jesus in the Jordan represents the reflection upon earth of what originally took place among the stars. That is to say, the sun begins its yearly course with a baptism, entering as it does, immediately after its birth, the constellations of the Water-carrier and the Fishes. But this celestial Water Kingdom, in which each year the day-star is purified and born again, is the Eridanus, the heavenly Jordan or Year-Stream (Egyptian, iaro or iero, the river), wherein the original baptism of the divine Saviour of the world takes place. [203] On this account it is said in the hymn of Ephrem on the Epiphany of the divine Son: "John stepped forward and adored the Son, whose form was enveloped in a strange light," and "when Jesus had received the baptism he immediately ascended, and his light shone over the world." [204] In the Syrian Baptismal Liturgy, preserved to us under the name of Severus, we read the words: "I, he said, baptize with water, but he who comes, with Fire and Spirit, that spirit, namely, which descended from on high upon his head in the shape of a dove, who has been baptized and has arisen from the midst of the waters, whose light has gone up over the earth." According to the Fourth Gospel, John was not himself the light; but he gave testimony of the light, "that true light which lighteth every man coming into the world," by whom the world was made and of whose fulness we have all received grace. [205] In this the reference to the sun is unmistakable, while the story of John's birth [206] is copied from that of the Sun-Gods Isaac [207] and Samson. [208] In John, the Baptist himself is called by Jesus "a burning and shining lamp," [209] and he himself remarks, when he hears of the numerous following of Jesus, "he must increase but I must decrease," [210] a speech which probably at first referred to the summer solstice, when the sun, having reached the highest point in its course, enters the winter hemisphere and loses strength day by day. John is said to have been born six months before Jesus. [211] This, too, points to the fact that both are essentially identical, that they are only the different halves of the year, representing the sun as rising and setting, these two phases being related to one another as Caleb and Joshua, Nergal and Tammuz, &c. John the Baptist is represented as wearing a cloak of camel-hair, with a leathern girdle about his loins. [212] This brings to mind the garb of the prophet Elijah, [213] to whom Jesus himself likened him. [214] But Elijah, who passed among the Jews for a forerunner of the Messiah, is a form of Sun-God transferred to history. In other words, he is the same as the Greek Helios, the German Heljas, and Ossetic Ilia, with whom he coincides in most important points, or at any rate characteristics of this God have been transferred to the figure of the prophet. [215] According to Babylonian ideas corresponding to the "baptism of water" at the commencement of the efficacious power of the sun, was the "baptism of fire," when it was at the height of its annual course, at the time of the summer solstice, and its passage was again inclined downwards. [216] This idea, too, is found in the Gospels, in the story of the transfiguration of Jesus upon the mountain. [217] It takes precisely the same place in the context of his life-year, as depicted by the Evangelists, as the Sun's "baptism of fire" in the Babylonian world system, since it too marks the highest and turning-point in the life of the Christian Saviour. On this occasion Moses and Elijah appeared with the Saviour, who shone like a pillar of fire, "and his garments became glistening, exceeding white, like unto snow, so as no fuller on earth can whiten them." And there came a cloud which overshadowed the three disciples whom Jesus had taken with him on to the mountain. And a voice came from the cloud, saying, "This is my beloved Son, hear ye him." As at the baptism, so here, too, was Jesus proclaimed by a heavenly voice as the Son or beloved of God, or rather of the Holy Spirit. As the latter is in Hebrew of the feminine gender, it consequently appears that in this passage we have before us a parallel to the baptism of Jesus in the Jordan. The incident is generally looked upon as though by it was emphasised the higher significance of Jesus in comparison with the two chief representatives of the old order, and as though Jesus was extolled before Moses and Elijah by the transfiguration. Here too, however, the Sun-God, Helios, is obviously concealed beneath the form of the Israelite Elijah. On this account Christianity changed the old places of worship of Zeus and Helios upon eminences into chapels of Elijah; and Moses is no other than the Moon-God, the Men of Asia Minor. And he has been introduced into the story because the divine lawgivers in almost all mythologies are the same as the moon, the measurer of time and regulator of all that happens (cf. Manu among the Indians, Minos among the Greeks, Men (Min) among the Egyptians). [218] According to Justin, [219] David is supposed to have made the prophecy that Christ would be born "before the sun and the moon." The sun and moon often appear upon the pictures of the Nearer Asiatic Redeemer, God (e.g., Mithras), paling before the splendour of the young Light-God, as we have seen in the case of Buddha, [220] and as, according to the narrative of the Rigveda, also happened at the birth of the Child Agni. Accordingly we have before us in the story of the transfiguration in the Gospels only another view of the story of the birth of the Light-God or Fire-God, such as lies at the root of the story of the baptism of the Christian Saviour. [221] And with the thought of the new birth of the Saviour is associated that of the baptism of Jesus, and particularly that of the fire-baptism, of which the sun partakes at the height of its power. [222] VI THE SELF-OFFERING OF THE MESSIAH. THE SUPPER Like Baptism, the sacrament of the "Supper," the partaking of the sacred host and wine (in place of which among certain sects water is also found), has its precedent in the most ancient fire-worship. When the sacred fire had been kindled upon the altar, the faithful were accustomed, as the Rigveda shows, to sit down in order to partake of the sacred cake prepared from meal and butter, the symbol of all solid food, and of the Soma cup, the symbol of all liquid nourishment. It was thought that Agni dwelt invisible within these substances: in the meal as though in the concentrated heat of the sun, in the Soma, since the drink in its fiery nature and invigorating power disclosed the nature of the God of Fire and Life. Participation therein opened to the faithful communion with Agni. Thereby they were incorporated with the God. They felt themselves transformed into him, raised above the actuality of every day, and as members of a common body, as though of one heart and one soul, inflamed by the same feeling of interdependence and brotherhood. Then some such hymn as follows would mount towards heaven from their breasts overflowing with thankfulness:-- "Oh great Agni, true-minded Thou dost indeed unite all. Enkindled on the place of worship Bring us all that is good. Unitedly come, unitedly speak, And let your hearts be one, Just as the old Gods For their part are of one mind. Like are their designs, like their assembly, Like their disposition, united their thoughts. So pray I also to you with like prayer, And sacrifice unto you with like sacrifice. The like design you have indeed, And your hearts are united. Let your thoughts be in unison, That you may be happily joined together." [223] While the faithful by partaking of the sacred cake and the fiery Soma cup united themselves with the God and were filled with his "spirit," the sacrificial gifts which had been brought to him burnt upon the altars. These consisted likewise of Soma and Sacred Cake, and caused the sacred banquet to be of such a kind that it was partaken of by Agni and men together. The God was at and present in the banquet dedicated to him. He consumed the gifts, transformed them into flame, and in sweet-smelling smoke bore them with him up to heaven. Here they were partaken of by the other divine beings and finally by the Father of Heaven himself. Thus Agni became not merely an agent at the sacrifice, a mystic sacrificial priest, but, since the sacrificial gifts simply contained him in material form, a sacrificer, who offered his own body in sacrifice. [224] While man sacrificed God, God at the same time sacrificed himself. Indeed, this sacrifice was one in which God was not only the subject but also the object, both sacrificer and sacrificed. "It was a common mode of thinking among the Indians," says Max Müller, "to look upon the fire on the altar as at the same time subject and object of the sacrifice. The fire burnt the offering and was accordingly the priest as it were. The fire bore the offering to the Gods and was accordingly a mediator between God and men. But the fire also represented something divine. It was a God, and if honour was paid to this God, the fire was at once subject and object of the sacrifice. Out of this arose the first idea, that Agni sacrificed to himself, that is, that he brought his own offering to himself, then, that he brought himself as a victim--out of which the later legends grew." [225] The sacrifice of the God is a sacrificing of the God. The genitive in this sentence is in one case to be understood in an objective, in the other in a subjective sense. In other words, the sacrifice which man offers to the God is a sacrifice which the God brings, and this sacrifice of the God is at the same time one in which the God offers himself as victim. In the Rigveda Agni, as God of Priests and Sacrifices, also bears the name of Viçvakarman, i.e., "Consummator of All." Hymn x., 81 also describes him as the creator of the world, who called the world into existence, and in so doing gave his own body in sacrifice. Hence, then, the world, according to x. 82, represents nothing existing exterior to him, but the very manifestation of Viçvakarman, in which at the creation he as it were appeared. On the other hand, Purusha, the first man, is represented as he out of whose body the world was formed. [226] But Purusha is, as we have seen, the prototype of the Mandaic and apocalyptic "son of man." Herein lies the confirmation of the fact that the "son of man" is none other than Agni, the most human of the Vedic Gods. In the Mazda religion the first mortals were called Meshia and Meshiane, the ancestors of fallen mankind, who expect their redemption at the hands of another Meshia. This meaning of the word Messiah was not strange to the Jews too, when they placed the latter as the "new Adam" in the middle of the ages. Adam, however, also means man. [227] The Messiah accordingly, as the new Adam, was for them too only a renewal of the first man in a loftier and better form. This idea, that mankind needed to be renewed by another typical representative of itself, goes back in the last resort to India, where, after the dismemberment of Purusha, a man arose in the person of Manu or Manus. He was to be the just king, the first lawgiver and establisher of civilisation, descending after his death to rule as judge in the under-world (cf. the Cretan Minos). But Manu, whose name again meant no more than man or human being (Manusha), passed as son of Agni. Indeed, he was even completely identified with him, since life, spirit, and fire to the mind of primitive man are interchangeable ideas, although it is spirit and intelligence which are expressed under the name of Manu (Man = to measure, to examine). [228] We thus also obtain a new reason for the fact that the divine Redeemer is a human being. We also understand not only why the "first-born son of God" was, according to the ideas of the whole of Nearer Asiatic syncretism, the principle of the creation of the world, but also why the redemption which he brought man could be for this reason looked upon as a divine self-sacrifice. [229] The sacrifice of the God on the part of mankind is a sacrifice of the God himself--it is only by this means that the community between God and man was completed. The God offers sacrifice for man, while man offers sacrifice for God. Indeed, more than this, he offers himself for mankind, he gives his own body that man may reap the fruit of his sacrifice. The divine "son" offers himself as a victim. Sent down by the "father" upon the earth in the form of light and warmth, he enters men as the "quickening and life-giving spirit" under the appearance of bread and wine. He consumes himself in the fire and unites man with the father above, in that by his disposal of his own personality he removes the separation and difference between them. Thus Agni extinguishes the hostility between God and man, thus he consumes their sins in the glow of his fiery nature, spiritualising and illuminating them inwardly. Through the invigorating power of the "fire-water" he raises men above the actuality of every day to the source of their existence and by his own sacrifice obtains for them a life of blessedness in heaven. In the sacrifice, too, God and man are identified. Therein God descends to man and man is raised to God. That is the common thought which had already found expression in the Rigveda, which later formed the special "mystery" of the secret cults and religious unions of Nearer Asia, which lay at the root of the sacrament of "the Supper," which guaranteed to man the certainty of a blessed life in the beyond, and reconciled him to the thought of bodily death. [230] Agni is accordingly nothing else than the bodily warmth in individuals, and as such the subject of their motions and thoughts, the principle of life, their soul. When the body grows cold in death the warmth of life leaves it, the eyes of the dead go up to the sun, his breath into the wind; his soul, however, ascends towards heaven where the "fathers" dwell, into the kingdom of everlasting light and life. [231] Indeed, so great is the power of Agni, the divine physician and saviour of the soul, [232] that he, as the God of all creative power, can, by merely laying on his hands, even call the dead back to life. [233] Even in the Old Testament we meet with the idea of a sacramental meal. This is pointed to in Genesis xiv. 18 sqq., when Melchisedek, the prince of peace ("King of Salem"), the priest of "God Most High," prepares for Abraham a meal of bread and wine, and at it imparts to him the blessing of the Lord God. For Melchisedek, the ruler of Salem, the city of peace, "the King of Justice," as he is called in the Epistle to the Hebrews, is even in this book plainly described as an ancient God: "without father, without mother, without genealogy, having neither beginning of days nor end of life, but made like unto the Son of God, he abideth a priest continually." [234] So also the Prophet Jeremiah speaks of holy feasts, consisting of cake and wine, of nightly sacrifices of burnt-offerings and liquids, which were offered to the Queen of Heaven (i.e., the Moon) and other Divinities. [235] Isaiah, too, is indignant against those who prepare a drinking-feast for God and make liquid offerings to Meni. [236] Now Meni is none other than Men, the Moon-God of Asia Minor, and as such is identical with Selene-Mene, the Goddess of the Moon in the Orphic hymns. Like her he is a being of a dual sex, at once Queen and King of Heaven. Consequently a liquid sacrifice appears to have been offered by all the people of Nearer Asia in honour of the Moon. As Moon-God (Deus Lunus) and as related to Meni, in whose worship a sacramental meal also plays the chief part, Agni appears in the Vedas under the name of Manu, Manus, or Soma. He too is a being of dual sex. Of this we are again reminded when Philo, the Rabbinic speculation of the Kabbala, as well as the Gnostics ascribe to the first man (Adam Kadmon) two faces and the form of a man and woman, until God separated the two sexes from one another. [237] According to this we should probably look upon the fire-worship in Asia Minor also as the foundation of the sacramental meal. Obviously we have to do with a meal of this kind in the bringing in of the so-called shew-bread. Every Sabbath twelve cakes were laid by the priests "upon the pure table before the Lord," "and it shall be for Aaron and his sons, and they shall eat it in a holy place, for it is most holy unto him of the offerings of the Lord, by a perpetual statute." [238] It appears, then, that this meal, presided over by the High Priest as representative of Aaron, was partaken of by twelve other priests, and Robertson rightly sees herein the Jewish prototype of the Christian Supper and of the number of apostles--the Twelve--present at it. But the High Priest Aaron is a personification of the Jewish Ark of the Covenant, that is, of the visible expression of the Covenant between God and man, one of the chief prototypes of the Messiah. And if the self-offering of the Messiah, as we have seen above (p. 78), has its precedent in the self-offering of Aaron, so also the great solemnity of the Aaronic sacrificial meal would not be wanting in the story of the Christian Redeemer. As is well known, Joshua too, the Jesus of the Old Testament, whom we have learnt to recognise as an ancient Ephraimitic God of the Sun and Fruitfulness, was accompanied in his passage of the Jordan by twelve assistants, one from each tribe. And he is said after circumcising the people to have celebrated the Paschal Feast on the other bank. [239] Hence, taking into account what has been said above concerning Joshua, we are probably justified in drawing the conclusion that his name was permanently connected with the partaking of the Easter lamb. [240] In any case the so-called "Supper" of Christianity did not only later take its place as the central point of religious activity, but from the beginning it held this central position in the cults of those sects out of which Christianity was developed. It was the point of crystallisation, the highest point, of the other ritualistic acts, in a way the germ cell out of which in association with the idea of the death and resurrection of the God Redeemer the Christian outlook upon the world has grown. Just as in the Vedic Agni Cult the sacrifice offered by men to their God was a self-sacrifice of this God as well in a subjective as in an objective sense; just as the participating in common of the sacrificial gifts served the purpose of rendering the sacrifice in an inward sense their very own, and thereby making them immediate participators in its efficacy, so, too, the Christian partakes in the bread of the body of his God and in the wine drinks his blood in order to become as it were himself God. The Evangelists make the Supper coincide with the Feast of the Pasch, because originally a man was immolated on this occasion; and he, as the first-born and most valuable of sacrificial gifts, took the place of the God who offered himself in sacrifice. [241] The celebration of sacramental feasts was very widespread throughout the whole of antiquity. They were among the most important acts of worship in the Mystic religions, above all in connection with the idea of the Saviour (Soter) and God of Sacrifices, who gave his life for the world. Thus Mithras, the Persian Agni, is said to have celebrated in a last meal with Helios and the other companions of his toils the end of their common struggle. Those initiated into the Mysteries of Mithras also celebrated this occurrence by common feasts in which they strove to unite themselves in a mystic manner with the God. Saos (Saon or Samon), the son of Zeus or Hermes, the God of Healing, and a nymph, reminds us of the name of Mithras, rejuvenated and risen again, of Saoshyant or Sosiosh. He is said to have founded the Mysteries in Samothrace, and appears to be identical with the mythical Sabus, who is supposed to have given his name to the Sabines, to have founded Italian civilization, and to have invented wine. [242] His name characterises him as the "sacrificer" (Scr., Savana, sacrifice); and he appears to be a Western form of Agni, the God of Sacrifices and preparer of the Soma, since Dionysus also bore the surname of Saos or Saotes and, as distributor of the wine, is supposed to have shed his blood for the salvation of the world, to have died and to have risen again, and thus has a prototype in the Vedic Agni. With Saos are connected Iasios (Jasion), the son and beloved of Demeter or Aphrodite (Maia), and of Zeus or the divine "artificer" Hephaistos (Tvashtar). Just as Saos established the worship of the Cabiri, Iasios is said to have established the worship of Demeter in Samothrace. In this connection he is identified with Hermes-Cadmus, the divine sacrificial priest (Kadmilos, i.e., Servant of God) of the Samothracian religion (cf. Adam-Kadmon of the Kabbala and the Gnostics, who is connected both with Agni-Manu and Jesus). According to Usener his name is connected with the Greek "iasthein," to cure, and consequently characterises its bearer as "saviour." But this is also the real meaning of the name Jason, whose bearer, a form of the patron of physicians, Asclepios (Helios), wanders about as a physician, exorciser of demons and founder of holy rites, and was venerated as God of Healing in the whole of Nearer Asia and Greece. [243] The myth also connects him with the establishment of the worship of the twelve Gods. [244] Now, Iasios (Jason) is only a Greek form of the name Joshua (Jesus). Just as Joshua crossed the Jordan with twelve assistants and celebrated the Pasch (lamb) on the further bank, just as Jesus in his capacity of divine physician and wonder-worker wanders through Galilee (the district of Galil!) with twelve disciples, and goes to Jerusalem at the Pasch in order to eat the Easter lamb there with the Twelve, so does Jason set out with twelve companions in order to fetch the golden fleece of the lamb from Colchis. [245] And just as Jason, after overcoming innumerable dangers, successfully leads his companions to their goal and back again to the homes they so longed for, so does Joshua lead the people of Israel into the promised land "where milk and honey flow," and so Jesus shows his followers the way to their true home, the kingdom of heaven, the land of their "fathers," whence the soul originally came and whither after the completion of its journey through life it returns. It can scarcely be doubted that in all of these cases we have to do with one and the same myth--the myth of the Saving Sun and Rejoicer of the peoples, as it was spread among all the peoples of antiquity, but especially in Nearer Asia. We can scarcely doubt that the stories in question originally referred to the annual journey of the sun through the twelve signs of the Zodiac. Even the names (Iasios, Jason, Joshua, Jesus; cf. also Vishnu Jesudu, see above) agree, and their common root is contained also in the name Jao (Jahwe), from which Joshua is derived. Jao or Jehu, however, was a mystical name of Dionysus among the Greeks, and he, like Vishnu Jesudu (Krishna), Joshua, and Jesus, roamed about in his capacity of travelling physician and redeemer of the world. [246] Of all of these wandering Healers, Physicians, and Deliverers it is true that they were honoured in the Mysteries by sacramental meals and offered the faithful both the chalice of corporal and spiritual healing and the "bread of life." VII SYMBOLS OF THE MESSIAH: THE LAMB AND THE CROSS Of a great number of modes of expression and images in the New Testament we know that they originated from the common treasury of the languages of the secret sects of the Orient, having their source above all in Mandaism and the Mithraic religion. Thus "the rock," "the water," "the bread," "the book," or "the light of life," [247] "the second death," "the vine," "the good shepherd," &c., are simply expressions which in part are known also by the Rigveda and there belong to the ideas grouped about Agni, the God of Fire, Life, and Shepherds. Of the latter, too, as of Jesus, it is said that he loses not a single one of the flock entrusted to his care, [248] for Pushan, to whom the hymn in this connection is addressed, is only a form of Agni. In its symbols also the earliest Christianity coincides with Indian thought in such a striking manner that it can scarcely be explained as chance. Thus the horse, [249] the hare, and the peacock, which play so great a part in symbolic pictures of the catacombs, point to an ultimately Vedic origin, where they all stand in connection with the nature of Agni. Again, the Fish was already to be found in the Indian Fire Worship and appears to have here originally represented Agni swimming in the water of the clouds, the ocean of heaven. [250] In the hymn of the Rigveda itself Agni is often invoked as "the Bull." This was probably originally a simple nature symbol, the Bull as image of the strength of the God; then the Fire-God and Sun-God, in his capacity of preparer of the Soma cup, was identified with the moon (Manu), whose crescents were taken as the horns of a bull. Later, however, the image of the Bull was driven out by that of the Ram. As early as in the Rigveda there is frequent mention of the God's "banner of smoke." Thus he was accustomed to be represented leading a ram with a banner in his hand or simply with a banner in his hand with the picture of a ram upon it, just as Christ is portrayed under the shape of a ram or lamb bearing a banner like a cross. About the year 800 B.C. the sun, the heavenly Agni, which had hitherto been at the commencement of spring in the constellation of the Bull, entered (as a consequence of the advance of equality between day and night) that of the Ram. Thus it became, according to astrological modes of thought, itself a ram. [251] While it had formerly, in the shape of a bull, opened the spring and released the world from the power of winter--an image which was still retained in the Mithras Cult--these functions were now transferred to the ram, and this became a symbol of the God and the beast offered in expiatory sacrifices. Now the constellation of the Ram was described by the Persians in a word which could also mean lamb. In other cases also the lamb often took the place of the ram in the sacrificial worship of Nearer Asia; for example, among the Jews, who were accustomed to consume the Paschal lamb at the beginning of the year in spring. This is the explanation of the mystical lamb in the Revelation of John (which is scarcely an original Christian work, but shows signs of a pre-Christian Cult of Jesus [252]), being depicted by seven horns or rays in a way which rather implies the idea of a ram. The fifth chapter of Revelation describes the lamb in its quality of heavenly victim of expiation. No one can open the book with the seven seals, which God holds in his right hand, in which the fate of the world appears to be written, but the lamb alone succeeds in so doing--"In the midst of the four-and-twenty elders who, clad in white garments and with crowns on their heads, sit around the divine throne, and in the midst of the four beasts who sit around it, the lamb, suddenly and without anything happening, stands as though it had been slain, having seven horns and seven eyes which are the seven spirits of God, sent forth into all the earth. And when he had taken the book the four living creatures and the four-and-twenty elders fell down before the lamb, having each one a harp, and golden bowls full of incense, which are the prayers of the saints. And they sing a new song saying, Worthy art thou to take the book and to open the seals thereof, for thou wast slain and didst purchase unto God with thy blood men of every tribe, and tongue, and people, and nation, and madest them to be unto our God a kingdom and priests; and they reign upon the earth." [253] The scene recalls to mind the self-offering of Agni in the midst of the Gods, Priests, and victims, and the ascension of the God which then took place. Just as the sacrifice of the lamb in Revelation refers to the entrance of the sun into the constellation of the Ram, and the victory of light over wintry darkness and the beginning of a new life which it heralds, so were mystic sacrifices of bulls and rams in the other Sun Cults of Nearer Asia, especially in those of Attis and Mithras, very customary for purposes of expiation or new birth. On these occasions the beast was immolated while standing, and the blood which poured in streams from the victim was looked upon as a means of cleansing and of life-giving. In any case, throughout Revelation the lamb plays the part of the heavenly fire revealing God's illuminatory nature, unfolding his wisdom and enlightening the world. As it is said of the heavenly Jerusalem: "And the city needed no sun and no moon to shine upon her, for the glory of God illumined her, and her light is the lamb." [254] Again, in the Church of the first century, at Easter, a lamb was solemnly slaughtered upon an altar and its blood collected in a chalice. [255] Accordingly in the early days of Christianity the comparison of Christ with the light and the lamb was a very favourite one. Above all the Gospel of John makes the widest use of it. As had already been done in the Vedic Cult of Agni, here too were identified with Christ the creative word of God that had existed before the world--the life, the light, and the lamb. And he was also called "the light of the world" that came to light up the darkness ruling upon the earth, as well as "the Lamb of God, who bore the sins of the world." [256] And indeed the Latin expression for lamb (agnus) also expresses its relation to the ancient Fire-God and its sanctity as a sacrificial animal. For its root is connected with ignis (Scr. agni, the purifying fire, and yagna, victim), and also, according to Festus Pompeius, with the Greek "hagnos," pure, consecrated, and "hagnistes," the expiator. [257] In this sense "Agnus Dei," the Lamb of God, as Christ is very frequently called, is in fact nothing else than "Agni Deus," since Agnus stands in a certain measure as the Latin translation for Agni. [258] But in India at the so-called Hulfeast, at the spring equinox, a ram (lamb) used to be solemnly burnt as an expiatory victim representing Agni. The "crucifixion" of Jesus, as will likewise appear, is in a certain sense only the symbol of the burning of the divine lamb, which by its death redeems man from sin. In both cases the lamb refers to the lamb of the Zodiac, the constellation of the Ram, into which the sun enters at the time of the spring equinox, and with which consequently, in accordance with the astrological way of looking at things, it is blended, and which is as though burnt up by it. Thus were completed the victory of the Sun Fire (Agni) over the night of winter and the resurrection of nature to a new life, this cosmic process finding its reflection in the sacrifice upon earth of a lamb (agnus). During the first century after Christ the lamb in association with light and fire was among the most popular images in ecclesiastical language and symbolism. The heathen Romans used to hang "bullæ" round the necks of their children as amulets. The Christians used consecrated waxen lambs, which were manufactured out of the remains of the Easter candles of the preceding year and distributed during Easter week. The belief then attached itself to these "Agnus Dei's," that if they were preserved in a house they gave protection against lightning and fire. Above all the lamps offered a convenient opportunity for symbolising Christ as a light, and thus making use of the image of the lamb. [259] The motif of the lamb with the cross is also found very frequently in old Christian art upon glass bowls, sarcophagi, and articles of use of all kinds. And indeed in such cases the cross is sometimes found upon the head or shoulder, sometimes at the side of the lamb or even behind him, while a nimbus in the shape of a disc of sunlight surrounds his head and points to the "light" nature of the lamb. The nimbus, too, is an old Indian symbol, and thus indicates that the whole conception was borrowed from the circle of Indian ideas. Later the lamb is also found upon the cross itself, and indeed at the point of intersection of the two arms surrounded by the disc of sunlight. This seems to point to the Saviour's death upon the cross, the cross here appearing to be understood as the gibbet. But is it really certain that the cross in the world of Christian thought possessed this significance from the beginning as the instrument by means of which Jesus was put to death? In the whole of Christendom it passes as a settled matter that Jesus "died upon the cross"; but this has the shape, as it is usually represented among painters, of the so-called Latin cross, in which the horizontal crosspiece is shorter than the vertical beam. On what then does the opinion rest that the cross is the gibbet? The Evangelists themselves give us no information on this point. The Jews described the instrument which they made use of in executions by the expression "wood" or "tree." Under this description it often occurs in the Greek translation of the Old Testament, in which the gibbet is rendered by xúlon, the same expression being also found in the Gospels. Usually, however, the gibbet is described as staurós (i.e., stake), so much so that staurós and xúlon pass for synonyms. The Latin translation of both these words is crux. By this the Romans understood any apparatus for the execution of men generally, without thinking, however, as a rule of anything else than a stake or gallows (patibulum, stipes) upon which, as Livy tells us, the delinquent was bound with chains or ropes and so delivered over to death. [260] That the method of execution in Palestine differed in any way from this is not in any way shown. Among the Jews also the condemned used to be hanged upon a simple stake or beam, and exposed to a lingering death from heat, hunger, and thirst, as well as from the natural tension of his muscles. "To fasten to the cross" (stauroun, afigere cruci) accordingly does not mean either in East or West to crucify in our sense, but at first simply "to torture" or "martyr," and later "to hang upon a stake or gallows." And in this connection it appears that the piercing of hands and feet with nails, at least at the time at which the execution of Jesus is supposed to have occurred, was something quite unusual, if it was ever employed at all. The expressions prospassaleuein and proséloun, moreover, usually signify only to "fasten," "to hang upon a nail," but not at all "to nail to" in the special sense required. [261] There is not then the least occasion for assuming that according to original Christian views an exception to this mode of proceeding was made at the execution of Jesus. The only place in the Gospels where there is any mention of the "marks of the nails" (viz., John xx. 25) belongs, as does the whole Gospel, to a relatively later time, and appears, as does so much in John, as a mere strengthening and exaggeration of the original story. For example, Luke xxiv. 39, upon which John is based, does not speak at all of nail-marks, but merely of the marks of the wounds which the condemned must naturally have received as a consequence of being fastened to the stake. Accordingly the idea that Christ was "nailed" to the cross was in the earliest Christianity by no means the ruling one. Ambrose, for example, only speaks of the "cords" of the "cross" and the "ligatures of the passion" ("usque ad crucis laqueos ac retia passionis"), [262] and consequently knew nothing of nails having been used in this case. [263] If we consider that the "crucifixion" of Jesus corresponds to the hanging of Attis, Osiris, and so forth, and that the idea of the gibbeted gods of Nearer Asia called forth and fixed the Christian view; if we remember that Haman, the prototype of Jesus at the Purim feast, was also hanged upon a gallows, [264] then it becomes doubly improbable that our present ideas on the matter correspond to the views of the early Christians. For although we have no direct picture of the hanging of those Gods, yet we possess representations of the execution of Marsyas by Apollo, in which the God has his rival hauled up on to a tree by ropes round his wrists, which have been bound together. [265] But Marsyas, the inventor of the flute, the friend and guide of Cybele in the search for the lost Attis, is no other than the latter himself, or at any rate a personality very near akin to Attis. [266] It is not difficult to conclude that Attis too, or the man who represented him in the rites, was hung in the same manner to the stake or tree-trunk and thus put to death. Thus it seems that originally the manner of death of the Jewish Messiah was imagined in the same way, and so the heathens too called the new God in scorn "the Hanged One." How, then, did the idea come into existence that Jesus did not die upon a simple gallows, but rather upon wood having the well-known form of the cross? It arose out of a misunderstanding, from considering as the same and mingling two ideas which were originally distinct but described by the same word wood, tree, xúlon, lignum, arbor. This word signifies, as we have already said, on the one hand indeed the stake or gallows (staurós, crux) upon which the criminal was executed; but the same word, corresponding to the Hebrew text of the Old Testament, also referred to the "wood," "the tree of life," which was supposed to stand in Paradise. According to the Revelation of John it was to serve as food for the holy in the new Paradise to come, [267] and it was honoured by the Christians as the "seal" and guarantee of their salvation under the form of the mystic cross or Tau. In all private religious associations and secret cults of later antiquity the members made use of a secret sign of recognition or union. This they carried about in the form, in some cases, of wooden, bronze, or silver amulets hung round the neck or concealed beneath the clothes, in others woven in their garments, or tattooed upon the forehead, neck, breast, hands, &c. Among these signs was the cross, and it was usually described under the name "Tau," after the letter of the old Phoenician alphabet. Such an application of the cross to mystic or religious ends reaches back into grey antiquity. From of old the cross was in use in the cult of the Egyptian Gods, especially of Isis and Horus. It was also found among the Assyrians and Persians, serving, as the pictures show, in part as the mark and ornament of distinguished persons, such as priests and kings, in part also as a religious attribute in the hands of the Gods and their worshippers. According to some it was the sign which Jahwe ordered the Israelites to paint upon their doors with the blood of the lamb when he sent the angel of death to destroy the first-born of their Egyptian oppressors. It played a similar part also in Isaiah [268] and Ezekiel, [269] when it was a question of separating the god-fearing Israelites from the crowd of other men whom Jahwe purposed to destroy. When the Israelites were pressed in battle by the Amalekites Moses is said to have been helped by Aaron and Hur to stretch out his arms in the shape of that magic sign, and thus to have rendered possible a victory for his people over their enemies. [270] Among the other nations of antiquity also--the Greeks, Thracians, the Gaulish Druids, and so on--the Tau was applied in a similar manner to ritualistic and mystic ends. It appears as an ornament on the images of the most different divinities and heroes--e.g., Apollo, Dionysus, Demeter, Diana (the Phoenician Astarte). It is also found upon innumerable Greek, Roman, Egyptian, and Phoenician coins, upon vases, pictures, jewellery, &c. In Alexandria the Christians found it chiselled upon the stone when the temple of Serapis was destroyed, in 391. In this temple Serapis himself was represented of superhuman size, with arms outstretched in the form of a cross, as though embracing the universe. In Rome the Vestal virgins wore the cross upon a ribbon round the neck. Indeed, it even served as an ornament upon the weapons of the Roman legions and upon the standards of the cavalry long before Constantine, by his well-known "vision," gave occasion for its being expressly introduced under the form of the so-called "Monogram of Christ" into the army as a military sign. [271] But in the North also we find the cross, not only in the shape of the hooked-cross and the three-armed cross (Triskele), but also in the form of Thor's hammer, upon runic, stones, weapons, utensils, ornaments, amulets, &c. And when the heathens of the North, as Snorre informs us, marked themselves in the hour of death with a spear, they scratched upon their bodies one of the sacred signs that has been mentioned, in doing which they dedicated themselves to God. [272] That here we have to do with a sun symbol is easily recognised wherever the simple, equally-armed cross appears duplicated with an oblique cross having the same point of intersection with it, [eight ray star symbol], or where it has the shape of a perpendicular which is cut symmetrically by two other lines crossing one another, [six ray star symbol]. And as a matter of fact this symbol of a sun shedding its rays is found upon numberless coins and illustrations, in which it is obvious that a reference to the sun is intended--e.g., upon the coins of the Egyptian Ptolemies, of the city Gods of Rome, of Augustus and the Flavian Cæsars. Here the Sun sign appears to have been adopted as a consequence of the fusing of the Sun Cult of later antiquity with the cult of the Emperor. Much more frequent, however, is the simple Tau, sometimes, indeed, in a shape with equal limbs (Greek cross), +, sometimes with the upright below lengthened (Latin cross), sometimes upright, sometimes oblique (St. Andrew's cross), ×, sometimes, again, like the Greek letter Tau, T, sometimes in the shape of the so-called mirror of Venus, [Venus symbol], in which the ring plainly refers to the sun, sometimes in that of the Svastika, or hooked cross, [swastika], sometimes with, sometimes without a circle, and so on. A form made up of the oblique and the ring cross of the Egyptians (so-called Key of the Nile) is the cross known under the description of the "Monogram of Christ." According to the legend it was first employed by Constantine on account of his "vision"; and ecclesiastical writers, especially on the Catholic side, try even to-day to support this view, in spite of all facts. For this form of the cross also is clearly of pre-Christian origin, and had its prototype in the ancient Bactrian Labarum cross, as is found, for example, upon the coins of the Bactrian king Hippostratos (about 130 B.C.), of the Egyptian Ptolemies, of Mithridates, upon Attic Tetradrachma, &c. [273] After the careful investigations on this subject which have been undertaken by French savants especially, there can be no doubt that we have before us in this so-called "seal" of the Gods and religious personalities a symbol of the creative force of nature, of the resurrection and the new life, a pledge of divine protection in this world and of everlasting blessedness after. As such it appears upon heathen sarcophagi and tombstones; and on this account in some cases their Christian character is too quickly assumed. Moreover, the cross has been preserved in present-day musical notation as the sign of the raising of a note, [274] while its use in the Mysteries and private Cult associations is authority for the statement that precisely in these the thought of a new-birth and resurrection in company with the hero of the association or God of the union stood as a central point of faith. One understands the painful feeling of the Christians at the fact that the private sign used by them and their special sacraments were in use among all the secret cults of antiquity. They could explain this to themselves only as the work of spiteful dæmons and an evil imitation of Christian usages on the heathens' part. [275] In reality the symbol of the cross is much older than Christianity; and, indeed, the sign of the cross is found associated in a special manner with the cult of divinities of nature or life with its alternations of birth, blossoming, and decay, representatives of the fertility and creative force of nature, the Light-Gods and Sun-Gods subjected to death and triumphing victoriously over it. It is only as such, as Gods who died and rose again, that they were divinities of the soul and so of the Mysteries and pious fraternities. The idea of the soul, however, is found everywhere in nature religion considered as being connected with the warmth of life and with fire, just as the sun was honoured as the highest divinity and, so to speak, as the visible manifestation of the world-soul solely on account of its fiery nature. Should not, then, the symbol of life, which in its developed form plainly refers to the sun, in its simplest and original shape point to the fire, this "earliest phenomenon" of all religious worship? Naturally, indeed, different views can be held as to what the various forms of the cross betoken. Thus, for example, according to Burnouf, Schliemann, and others, the Svastika represents the "fire's cradle," i.e., the pith of the wood, from which in oldest times in the point of intersection of the two arms the fire was produced by whirling round an inserted stick. [276] On the other hand, according to the view most widespread at the present day, it simply symbolises the twirling movement when making the fire, and on this, too, rests its application as symbol of the sun's course. [277] Hochart considers the cross in the shape of the Greek Tau as the inserted stick (pramantha) of the Vedic priests. [278] Very likely, however, this form arose simply through the identity of sound between the Greek and Phoenician letter, the Greeks having interchanged the like-sounding foreign letter with their own Tau. That the cross generally speaking, however, is connected with the Fire Cult, and that both parts of the sign originally contained a reference to the pieces of wood (aranî) of which in most ancient times use was made to produce fire, has been placed beyond doubt by the investigations into the matter. This is confirmed inter alia by the use of the symbol in the worship of the Vestals, the Roman fire-priestesses. This is the explanation of the wide extent of the symbol of the cross. Not only among the peoples of antiquity and in Europe, but also in Asia among the Indians and Chinese, it is in use from ancient times. In America, too, among the Mexicans and Incas, it played a part in worship long before the arrival of Europeans. In the same way is explained the close association of that symbol with the priestly office and kingly dignity, which was itself often connected with that office; similarly the intimate relations between the sign of the cross and the Gods of Fertility, Vegetation, and Seasons. For all of these were, as representatives of the warmth of life and the soul's breath, in their deepest nature, Fire-Gods special aspects, closer characterisations and connections of that one divinity, of whom the oldest form known to us is in the Vedic Agni, and in whose service the priests of all peoples and times grew to their overwhelming strength. [279] Julius Firmicus Maternus was thus quite right when he declared that Mithras, whose followers bore the sign of the cross upon their foreheads and at their communion-meal had the cross, imprinted upon the holy loaf, before their eyes, was an ancient Fire-God. [280] But if the cross is the symbol of fire and also of the Mediator God, who brings earth and heaven into connection, then the reason can be found why Plato in the "Timæus" makes the World Soul in the form of a Chi, i.e., an oblique cross, stretched between heaven and earth. [281] Then, indeed, it is not strange that the Christians of the first century regarded as an inspiration of the devil Plato's doctrine of the mediatory office of the "double-natured" World Soul, which, according to that philosopher, was formed from a mixture of ideal and sensible matter. It is not strange that a Justin, "the most foolish of the Christian fathers" (Robertson), could actually assert that Plato borrowed the idea, as well as that of a world-conflagration, from--Moses. [282] In the Old Testament also, as was shown above, we meet the cross. Here it served as a mark of recognition and distinction of the God-fearing Israelites from the heathen, and as a magic sign. With a similar significance we meet it again in the New Testament. In the Revelation of John it appears as "the seal (sphragís) of the living God." By it here, too, are the chosen ones of Israel marked off from the rest of mankind whom judgment has overtaken. At the same time, it is said that this sign is imprinted upon the foreheads of the inhabitants of the true Jerusalem. [283] In the Epistles to the Galatians and Ephesians it is said of the believers in Christ that they were "sealed" before God by the mystic sign upon their foreheads, hands, or feet. The sign thus serves them as a pledge of redemption. [284] Again, in the Epistle of Barnabas ix. 8, the cross contained in the letter T is expressly interpreted as (charis) "grace." Under the form of the Greek Tau the cross appears during the first century of the Christian era, especially among the Christians in Egypt, and according to many was a symbol of Adonis or Tammuz. [285] Now since the expressions xúlon and staurós, lignum and crux, were of double significance and denoted both the "seal" of religious salvation and the gibbet, it is possible that the two different significations became of themselves identical in the minds of the faithful. [286] This was possible so much the more easily since the biblical account placed by the side of the "tree of life" in Paradise a "tree of death," the fateful "tree of the knowledge of good and evil," which was supposed to have been accountable for the death of Adam and so of the whole of mankind, and as such made the comparison possible with the wood upon which Jesus died. We meet again with a special form of the cross in the old Assyrian or Babylonian so-called "mystical tree of mystery," which was also a symbol of life. Among the Persians it appears to have had some reference to the holy Haoma tree; and here, too, as well as in India, where it was connected with the Bodhi tree, under which Sakyamuni by his devout humility rose to be a Buddha, it was represented in the artificial shape of a many-armed cross. [287] One and the same word, then (xúlon, crux), betokens both the gibbet and the pledge of life. Christ himself appears as the true "Tree of Life," as the original of that miraculous tree the sight of which gave life to the first man in Paradise, which will be the food of the blessed in the world to come, and is represented symbolically by the mystical cross. It was easy to unite the ideas connected with those expressions, to look upon the "seal" of Christ (to semeion tou staurou, signum crucis) as the cross upon which he suffered, and vice-versâ, and to ascribe to the "wood" upon which Jesus is supposed to have died, the shape of the mystic sign, the Tau, or cross. The heathens had been accustomed to regard the stake upon which their Gods were hanged both as the representative of the God in question and the symbol of life and fruitfulness. For example, the stake furnished with four oblique sticks (like a telegraph post), which went by the name of the tatu, tat, dad, or ded and was planted at the feast of Osiris in Egypt, often had a rough picture of the God painted upon it, as also the pine-tree trunk of Attis, in which connection the idea that the seed contained in the cones of the rock-pine from of old had served men as food, while the sap found in them was prepared into an intoxicating drink (Soma), played its part. [288] We are reminded also of the Germanic custom of the planting of the may-tree. This was not only a symbol of the Spring God, but also represented the life bestowed by him. In the same way the cross did not appear to the Christians originally as the form of the gibbet upon which God died, but as "the tree of life," the symbol of the new birth and redemption. Since, however, the word for the mystical sign was identical with the expression for the gibbet, the double meaning led to the gibbet of Jesus being looked upon as the symbol of life and redemption, and the idea of the gibbet was mingled with that of the cross, the shape of the latter being imagined for the former. As Justin in his conversation with the Jew Trypho informs us, the Jews used to run a spit lengthwise through the whole body of the Paschal lamb and another cross-wise through its breast, upon which the forefeet were fastened, so that the two spits made the shape of a cross. This was to them obviously not a symbol of execution but rather the sign of reconcilement with Jahwe and of the new life thereon depending. For the Christians, however, who compared their Saviour with the Paschal lamb, this may have been an additional cause for the above-mentioned commingling of ideas, and this may have strengthened them in the conception that their God died upon the "cross." The Phrygians, moreover, according to Firmicus Maternus, at the Spring Feast of Attis, used to fasten a ram or lamb at the foot of the fig-tree trunk on which the image of their God was hung. [289] In agreement with this view is the fact that the earliest representations of Christ in connection with the cross had for their subject not the suffering and crucified, but the miraculous Saviour triumphing over sickness and death. He appeared as a youthful God with the Book of the Law, the Gospel, in his hand, the lamb at his feet, the cross upon his head or in his right hand, just as the heathen Gods, a Jupiter, or some crowned ruler, used to be depicted with a cross-shaped sceptre. Or Jesus' head was placed before the cross, and this in the orb of the sun--and exactly at the point of intersection of the arms of the cross, thus at the place where one otherwise finds the lamb. Even the Church, probably with a right feeling of the identity of Agnus and Agni, and in order to remove the connection of ideas therein contained, in the year 692, by the Quinisext Synod (in Trullo), forbade the pictures of the lamb and required the representation to be of the Saviour's human shape. In spite of this even then they did not represent "the Crucified" in the present-day sense of the word, but portrayed Christ in the form of one standing before the cross praying with outstretched arms. Or he was shown risen from the grave, or standing upon the Gospels at the foot of the cross, out of this arising later the support for the feet in the pictures of him crucified. Here he was represented with open eyes, with his head encircled by the sun's orb. In all of these different representations accordingly the cross only brought again before the eyes in symbolical form what was at the same time expressed by the figure of Christ standing at the cross, just as at the feasts of Osiris or Attis the God was doubly represented, both in his true shape (as image or puppet) and in the symbolical form of the Jatu or pine-tree trunk. This mode of depicting Christ lasted a long while, even though as early as the fifth or sixth century mention is made of crucifixion, and in arbitrary interpretation of Psa. xxii. 17 he was depicted with the marks of the nails. For, as has been said, "crux" betokens both the gibbet and the mystical sign, and the marks of the nails served to symbolise the Saviour's triumph over pain and death. An ivory plate in the British Museum in London, mentioned and copied by Kraus, [290] is considered the oldest representation of a crucifixion in our present sense. It is said to be of fifth-century origin. This assignment of date is, however, just as uncertain as the other, according to which the miniature from the Syrian Gospel manuscript of the monk Rabula of the monastery of Zagba in Mesopotamia, which also has the crucifixion for subject and is to be found in the Bibliotheca Laurenziana at Florence, is assigned to the year 586. In any case, as a general rule until the eleventh century it was not the dead but the living Christ who was depicted before or on the cross. Consequently an illustration in the Bibliotheca Laurenziana of about the date 1060 is considered as the first certain example of a dead crucified Christ. [291] The conception of Christ being put to death upon the cross is, comparatively speaking, a late one. The connection of Christ with the cross was originally not a reproduction of the manner of his death. It rather symbolises, as in the ancient Mysteries, precisely the reverse--the victory of the Christian Cult-God over death--the idea of resurrection and life. Hence it is obvious that the above-mentioned juxtaposition of the cross and lamb must have expressed the same idea. Here, too, the cross was originally only the symbol of fire and life. The lamb encircled by the sun's orb refers to the ceremonial burning of the lamb at the spring equinox as an expiatory sacrifice and as a pledge of a new life. It appears the more plainly to be a figure of Agni (Agnus), since it is usually placed exactly at the point of intersection of the two arms--that is, at the place whence the divine spark first issued at the kindling of the fire with the two aranî. [292] THE CHRISTIAN JESUS I THE PAULINE JESUS The faith in a Jesus had been for a long time in existence among innumerable Mandaic sects in Asia Minor, which differed in many ways from each other, before this faith obtained a definite shape in the religion of Jesus, and its adherents became conscious of their religious peculiarities and their divergence from the official Jewish religion. The first evidence of such a consciousness, and also the first brilliant outline of a new religion developed with Jesus as its central idea, lies in the epistles of the tent-maker of Tarsus, the pilgrim-apostle Paul. Of the epistles in his name which have been handed down to us, that to the Hebrews is quite certainly not Paul's. But also the two epistles to the Thessalonians, that to the Ephesians, as well as the so-called pastoral epistles (to Timothy, Titus, and Philemon), are considered by the overwhelming majority of theologians to be forgeries; and also the authenticity of the epistles to the Colossians and Philippians is negatived by considerations of great weight. But with all the more certainty modern critical theologians believe that Paul was the writer of the four great didactic epistles--one to the Galatians, two to the Corinthians, and one to the Romans; and they are wont to set aside all suspicion of these epistles as a "grave error" of historical hypercriticism. In opposition to this view the authenticity of even these epistles is contested, apart from Bruno Bauer, especially by Dutch theologians, by Pierson, Loman, von Mauen, Meyboom, Matthes, and others; and, in addition, recently the Bern theologian R. Steck, and B. W. Smith, Professor of Mathematics in the Tulane University of New Orleans, with whom the late Pastor Albert Kalthoff of Bremen was associated, have contested the traditional view with objections that deserve consideration. They have attempted to prove the Pauline epistles, as a literary product, to be the work of a whole school of second-century theologians, authors who either simultaneously or successively wrote for the growing Church. This much is certain--a conclusive proof that Paul was really the author of the epistles current in his name cannot be given. With regard to this it must always remain a ground for doubt that Luke, who accompanied Paul on his missionary travels, was completely silent as to such literary activity of the apostle; and this, although he devoted the greatest portion of his account in the Acts to Paul's activities. [293] Also the proof given by Smith, that the Pauline epistles were as yet completely unknown in the first century a.d., that in particular the existence of the Epistle to the Romans is not testified to before the middle of the second century, must speak seriously against Paul's authorship, and is evidence that those epistles cannot be accepted as the primary source of the Pauline doctrines. For this reason it can in no way be asserted that the critical theology of last century has "scientifically and beyond question established" [294] the authenticity of the Pauline writings. It is well known that the ancient world was not as yet in possession of the idea of literary individuality in our sense of the word. At that time innumerable works were circulated bearing famous names, whose authors had neither at the time nor probably at any time anything to do with the men who bore those names. Many such productions were circulated among the members of Sects of antiquity, which passed, for example, under the names of Orpheus, of Pythagoras, of Zoroaster, &c., and thereby sought to procure the canonical acceptance of their contents! Of the works of the Old Testament neither the Psalms, nor the Proverbs, nor the so-called Preacher, nor the Book of Wisdom, can be connected with the historical kings David and Solomon, whose names they bear; and the prophet Daniel is just such a fictitious personality as the Enoch and the Ezra of the Apocalypses known under their names. Even the so-called Five Books of Moses are the literary product of an age much later than the one in which Moses is supposed to have lived, while Joshua is the name of an old Israelite God after whom the book in question is called. [295] There has never anywhere been such a Moses as the one described in the Old Testament. The possibility of the so-called Pauline epistles having been the work of later theologians, and of having been christened in the name of Paul, the apostle of the Gentiles, only to increase their authority in the community, is therefore by no means excluded; especially when we consider how exuberantly literary falsifications and "pious frauds" flourished in the first century, and at other times also, in the interests of the Christian Church. Indeed, at that time they even dared, as is shown by Christian documents of the second century, to alter the very text of the Old Testament, and thereby, as they used to say, to "elucidate" it. Already in the middle of the second century Marcion, the Gnostic, reproached the Church with possessing the Pauline epistles only in a garbled form, and who can say whether it was a false accusation? He himself undertook to restore the correct text by excisions and completions. [296] But let us leave completely on one side the question of the authenticity of the Pauline epistles, a question absolute agreement on which will probably never be attained, for the simple reason that we lack any certain basis for its decision. Instead of this let us turn rather to what we learn from these epistles concerning the historical Jesus. There we meet in the first place with the fact, testified to by Paul himself, that the Saviour revealed himself in person to him, and at the same time caused him to enter his service (Gal. i. 12). It was, as is stated in the Acts, on the way to Damascus that suddenly there shone round about him a light out of heaven, while a voice summoned him to cease his former persecution of the community of the Messiah, and revealed itself to him as Jesus. [297] There is no need to doubt the fact itself; but to see in it a proof of the historical Jesus is reserved for those theologians who have discovered the splendid conception of an "objective vision," basing the objective reality of the vision in question on Paul's life in the desert. It was obviously only an "inner vision," which the "visionary" and "epileptic" Paul attributed to Jesus; and for this reason it proves nothing as to the existence of an historical Jesus when he asks, 1 Cor. ix. 1, "Have I not seen our Lord Jesus?" and remarks, 1 Cor. xv. 9, "Last of all he appeared to me also." It only proves the dilemma of theologians on the whole question that they have recently asserted that Paul, notwithstanding his own protestations (Gal. i.), must have had a personal knowledge of the historical Jesus, as otherwise on the occasion at Damascus he could not have recognised the features and voice of the transfigured Jesus, not being already acquainted with them from some other quarter! With equal justice we might assert that the heathens also, who had visions of their Gods, must previously have known them personally, as otherwise they could not have known that Zeus or Athene or any other definite God had appeared to them. In the Acts we read only of an apparition of light which Paul saw, and of a voice which called to him, "Saul, why persecutest thou me?" Is the supposition referred to necessary to account for the fact that Paul, the persecutor of Jesus, referred the voice and the vision to Jesus? The case is similar with Paul's testimony as to those who, like him, saw the Saviour after his death. [298] It is possible that the people concerned saw something, that they saw a Jesus "risen up" in heavenly transfiguration; but that this was the Jesus of the so-called historical theology, whose existence is hereby established, even its supporters would not in all probability insist upon; for in their view the historical Jesus had in no way risen from the dead: but here also there would only be question of a purely subjective vision of the ecstatically excited disciples. Moreover, the passage of the Epistle to the Corinthians in question (5-11) seems clearly to be one at least very much interpolated, if it is not entirely an after-insertion. Thus, the Risen Jesus is said to have been seen by "more than five hundred Brethren at once." But of this the four Gospels know nothing; and also, according to xv. 5, that "the twelve" had the vision, would lead us to suspect that it was first inserted in the text at a much later date. [299] Paul himself never disguised the fact that he had seen Jesus, not with mortal eyes, but only with those of the Spirit, as an inner revelation. "It has pleased God," he says (Gal. i. 16), "to reveal his Son within me." [300] He confesses that the Gospel preached by him was not "of men," that he neither received nor learnt it from any man, but that he had obtained it directly from the heavenly Christ and was inspired by the Holy Ghost. [301] He seems also to have had no interest at all in giving accurate information as to the personality of Jesus, as to his fortunes and teachings. When three years after his conversion he first returns to Jerusalem, he visits only Peter and makes the acquaintance of James during the fourteen days of his stay there, troubling himself about none of the other apostles. [302] But when, fourteen years after, he meets with the "First Apostles" in the so-called Council of the Apostles in Jerusalem, he does not set about learning from them, but teaching them and procuring from them recognition of his own missionary activity; and he himself declares that he spoke with them only on the method of proclaiming the Gospel, but not on its religious content or on the personality of the historic Jesus. [303] Certainly that James whose acquaintance Paul made in Jerusalem is designated by him as the "Brother of the Lord"; [304] and from this it seems to follow that Jesus must have been an historical person. The expression "Brother," however, is possibly in this case, as so often in the Gospels, [305] only a general expression to designate a follower of Jesus, as the members of a religious society in antiquity frequently called each other "Brother" and "Sister" among themselves. 1 Cor. ix. 5 runs: "Have we [i.e., Paul and Barnabas] not also right to take about with us a wife that is a sister, even as the other Apostles and Brothers of the Lord and Cephas?" There it is evident that the expression by no means necessarily refers to bodily relationship, but that "Brother" serves only to designate the followers of the religion of Jesus. [306] Accordingly Jerome seems to have hit the truth exactly when, commenting on Gal. i. 19, he writes: "James was called the Brother of the Lord on account of his great character [though the Pauline epistles certainly show the opposite of this], of his incomparable faith and extraordinary wisdom. The other Apostles were as a matter of fact also called Brothers, but he was specially so called, because the Lord at his death had confided to him the sons of his mother" (i.e., the members of the community at Jerusalem). [307] And how then should Paul have met with a physical brother of that very Jesus whom, as will be shown, he could only treat as a myth in other respects? The thing is, considered now purely psychologically, so improbable that no conclusion can in any case be drawn from the expression concerning James as the Brother of the Lord as to the historical existence of Jesus; especially in view of the fact that theologians from the second century to the present day have been unable to come to an agreement as to the true blood-relationship between James and Jesus. [308] Moreover, if we consider how the glorification of James came into fashion in anti-Pauline circles of the second century, and how customary it was to connect the chief of the Jewish Christians at Jerusalem as closely as possible with Jesus himself (e.g., Hegesippus, in the so-called Epistles of Clement, in the Gospel of the Nazarenes, &c.), the suspicion forces itself on us that the Pauline mention of James as "the Brother of the Lord" is perhaps only an after-insertion in the Epistle to the Galatians in order thereby to have the bodily relationship between James and Jesus confirmed by Paul himself. [309] Jesus' parents are not historical personalities (see above, 117 ff.); and it is probably the same with his brothers and sisters. Also Paul never refers to the testimony of the brothers or of the disciples of Jesus concerning their Master; though this would have been most reasonable had they really known any more of Jesus than he himself did. "He bases," as Kalthoff justly objects, "not a single one of his most incisive polemical arguments against the adherents of the law on the ground that he had the historical Jesus on his side; but he gives his own detailed theological ideas without mentioning an historical Jesus, he gives a gospel of Christ, not the gospel which he had heard at first, second, or third hand concerning a human individual Jesus." [310] From Paul, therefore, there is nothing of a detailed nature to be learnt about the historical Jesus. The apostle does indeed occasionally refer to the words and opinions of the "Lord," as with regard to the prohibition of divorce, [311] or to the right of the apostles to be fed by the community. [312] But as the exact words are not given there is no express reference to an historical individual of the name of Jesus; and so we are persuaded that we here have to do with mere rules of a community such as were current and had canonical significance everywhere in the religious unions as "Words of the Master," i.e., of the patrons and celebrities of the community (cf. the "autos epha: he himself, viz., the Master, has said it" of the Pythagoreans). Only once, 1 Cor. xi. 23 sq., where Paul quotes the words at the Last Supper, does the apostle apparently refer to an experience of the "historical" Jesus: "The Lord Jesus, in the night in which he was betrayed, took bread," &c. [313] Unfortunately here we have to do with what is clearly a later insertion. The passage is obscure throughout (vers. 23-32), and through its violent and confusing interruption of the Pauline line of thought may be recognised as an after-insertion in the original text, as is even acknowledged by many on the theological side. [314] Paul says that he had obtained these things from the "Lord" himself. Does this mean that they were directly "revealed" to him by the transfigured Jesus? It seems much more reasonable to believe that he took them from a religion already existing. This could indeed refer at most only to the words of the Last Supper in themselves. On the other hand, the words "in the night in which he was betrayed" are certainly an addition. They will do neither in the connection of a "revelation" nor of an existing religion, but stand there completely by themselves as a reference to a real event in the life of Jesus; and so, for this alone, they form much too small a basis for testimony as to its historical truth. [315] All expressions concerning Jesus which are found in Paul are accordingly of no consequence for the hypothesis of an historical person of that name. The so-called "words of the Lord" quoted by him refer to quite unimportant points in the teachings of Jesus. And, on the other hand, Paul is just as silent on those points in which modern critical theology finds the particular greatness and importance of this teaching; as, e.g., on Jesus' confidence in the divine goodness of the Father, his command of the love of our neighbours as the fulfilment of the Law, his sermon about humility and charity, his warning against the over-esteem of worldly goods, &c., as on Jesus' personality, his trust in God, and his activity among his people. [316] Paul did not give himself the least trouble to bring the Saviour as a man nearer to his readers. He seems to know nothing of any miraculous power in Jesus. He says nothing of his sympathy with the poor and oppressed, though surely just this would have been specially adapted to turn the hearts of men towards his Jesus and to make an impression on the multitude that sought for miracles. All the moral-religious precepts and exhortations of Jesus are neither employed by Paul as a means of proselytising for him, nor in any way used to place his individuality in opposition to his prophetic precursors in a right light, as is the case in the Christian literature of the present day. "Thus, just those thoughts, which Protestant theologians claim as the particular domain of their historical Jesus, appear in the epistles independently of this Jesus, as individual moral effusions of the apostolic consciousness; while Christian social rules, which the same theologians consider additions to the story, are introduced directly as rules of the Lord. For this reason the Christ of the Pauline epistles may rather be cited as a case against critical theologians than serve as a proof for the historical Jesus in their sense." [317] Even so zealous a champion of this theology as Wernle must admit: "We learn from Paul least of all concerning the person and life of Jesus. Were all his epistles lost we should know not much less of Jesus than at present." Immediately after this, however, this very author consoles himself with the consideration that in a certain sense Paul gave us even more than the most exact and the most copious records could give. "We learn from him that a man (?) Jesus, in spite of his death on the cross, was able to develop such a power after his death, that Paul knew himself to be mastered, redeemed, and blessed by him; and this in so marked a way that he separated his own life and the whole world into two parts: without Jesus, with Jesus. This is a fact which, explain it as we may, purely as a fact excites our wonder (!) and compels us to think highly of Jesus." [318] What does excite our wonder is this style of historical "demonstration." And then how peculiar it is to read, from the silence of an author like Paul concerning the historical Jesus, an argument in its favour! As if it does not rather prove the unimportance of such a personality for the genesis of Christianity! As if the fact that Paul erected a religious-metaphysical thought construction of undoubted magnificence must necessarily be based on the "overwhelming impression of the person of Jesus," of the same Jesus of whom Paul had no personal knowledge at all! The disciples--who are supposed to have been in touch with Jesus for many years--Paul strenuously avoided, and of the existence of this Jesus no other signs are to be found in his epistles but such as may have quite a different meaning. Or did Paul, as historical theology says, reveal more of Jesus in his sermons than he did in the epistles? Surely that could only be maintained after it was first established that in his account Paul had in view any historical Jesus at all. This seems to be completely problematic. The "humanity" of Jesus stands as the central point of the Pauline idea. And yet the Jesus painted by Paul is not a man, but a purely divine personality, a heavenly spirit without flesh and blood, an unindividual superhuman phantom. He is the "Son of God" made manifest in Paul; the Messiah foretold by the Jewish Apocalyptics; the pre-existing "Son of Man" of Daniel and his followers; the spiritual "ideal man" as he appeared in the minds of the Jews influenced by Platonic ideas; whom also Philo knew as the metaphysical prototype of ordinary sensual humanity and thought he had found typified to in Gen. i. 27. He is the "great man" of the Indian legends, who was supposed to have appeared also in Buddha and in other Redeemer figures--the Purusha of the Vedic Brahmans, the Mandâ de hajjê and Hibil Ziwâ of the Mandaic religion influenced by Indian ideas, the tribe-God of syncretised Judaism. The knowledge which Paul has of this Being is for this reason not an ordinary acquaintance from teachings, but a Gnosis, an immediate consciousness, a "knowledge inspired"; and all the statements which he makes concerning it fall within the sphere of theosophy, of religious speculation or metaphysics, but not of history. As we have stated, the belief in such a Jesus had been for a long time the property of Jewish sects, when Paul succeeded, on the ground of his astounding personal experiences, in drawing it into the light from the privacy of religious arcana, and setting it up as the central point of a new religion distinct from Judaism. "There was already in their minds a faith in a divine revealer, a divine-human activity, in salvation to be obtained through sacraments." [319] Among the neighbouring heathen peoples for a very long time, and in Jewish circles at least since the days of the prophets, there had existed a belief in a divine mediator, a "Son of God," a "First-born of all creation," in whom was made all that exists, who came down upon earth, humbled himself in taking on a human form, suffered for mankind a shameful death, but rose again victorious, and in his elevation and transfiguration simultaneously renewed and spiritualised the whole earth. [320] Then Paul appeared--in an age which was permeated as no other with a longing for redemption; which, overwhelmed by the gloom of its external relations, was possessed with the fear of evil powers; which, penetrated with terror of the imminent end of the world, was anxiously awaiting this event and had lost faith in the saving power of the old religion--then he gave such an expression to that belief as made it appear the only means of escape from the confusion of present existence. Can the assumption of an historical Jesus in the sense of the traditional conception really be necessary, in order to account for the fact that men fled impetuously to this new religion of Paul's? Is it even probable that the intelligent populations of the sea-ports of Asia Minor and Greece, among whom in particular Paul preached the Gospel of Jesus, would have turned towards Christianity for the reason that at some time or other, ten or twenty years before, an itinerant preacher of the name of Jesus had made an "overpowering" impression on ignorant fisher-folk and workmen in Galilee or Jerusalem by his personal bearing and his teachings, and had been believed by them to be the expected Messiah, the renowned divine mediator and redeemer of the world? Paul did not preach the man Jesus, but the heavenly spiritual being, Christ. [321] The public to which Paul turned consisted for the most part of Gentiles; and to these the conception of a spiritual being presented no difficulties. It could have no strengthening, no guarantee, of its truth, through proof of the manhood of Jesus. If the Christians of the beginning of our own historical epoch had only been able to gain faith in the God Christ through the Man Jesus, Paul would have turned his attention from that which, to him, particularly mattered; he would have obscured the individual meaning of his Gospel and brought his whole religious speculation into a false position, by substituting a man Jesus for the God-man Jesus as he understood him. [322] Paul is said to have been born in the Greek city of Tarsus in Cilicia, the son of Jewish parents. At that time Tarsus was, like Alexandria, an important seat of Greek learning. Here flourished the school of the younger Stoics, with its mixture of old Stoic, Orphic, and Platonic ideas. Here the ethical principles of that school were preached in a popular form, in street and market-place, by orators of the people. It was not at all necessary for Paul, brought up in the austerity of the Jewish religion of the Law, to visit the lecture-rooms of the Stoic teachers in order to gain a knowledge of Stoic views, for in Tarsus it was as though the air was filled with that doctrine. Paul was certainly acquainted with it. It sank so deeply into his mind, perhaps unknown to himself, that his epistles are full of the expressions and ideas of the Stoic philosopher Seneca, and to this are due the efforts which have been made to make Seneca a pupil of Paul's, or the reverse, to make Paul a pupil of Seneca's. A correspondence exists, which is admittedly a forgery, pretending to have passed between the two. Tarsus, in spite of its Eastern character, was a city saturated with Greek learning and ways of thought, but not these alone. The religious ideas and motives of the time found also a fruitful soil there. In Tarsus the Hittite Sandan (Sardanapal) was worshipped, a human being upon whom Dionysus had bestowed the godhead of life and fecundity, who was identified by the Greeks either with Zeus, or with Heracles, the divine "Son" of the "Father" Zeus. He passed as the founder of the city, and was represented as a bearded man with bunches of grapes and ears of corn, with a double-headed axe in his right hand, standing on a lion or a funeral pyre; and every year it was the custom for a human representative of the God, or in later times his effigy, to be ceremoniously burnt on a pyre. [323] But Tarsus was also at the same time a centre for the mystery-religions of the East. The worship of Mithras, in particular, flourished there, with its doctrine of the mystic death and re-birth of those received into the communion, who were thereby purified from the guilt of their past life and won a new immortal life in the "Spirit"; with its sacred feast, at which the believers entered into a communion of life with Mithra by partaking of the consecrated bread and chalice; with its conception of the magic effect of the victim's blood, which washed away all sins; and with its ardent desire for redemption, purification, and sanctification of the soul. [324] Paul was not unaffected by these and similar ideas. His conception of the mystic significance of Christ's death shows that; in which conception the whole of this type of religious thought is expressed, although in a new setting. Indeed, the expression (Gal. iii. 27), in which the baptized are said to have "put on" Christ, seems to be borrowed directly from the Mithraic Mysteries. For in these, according to a primitive animistic custom, the initiated of different degrees used to be present in the masks of beasts, representing God's existence under diverse attributes; that is, they used to "put on" the Lord in order to place themselves in innermost communion with him. Again, the Pauline expression, that the consecrated chalice and bread at the Lord's Supper are the "communion of the blood and body of Christ," [325] reminds us too forcibly of the method of expression in the Mysteries for this agreement to be purely a coincidence. [326] If in such circumstances Paul, the citizen of Tarsus, heard of a Jewish God of the name of Jesus, the ideas which were connected with him were in no way quite new and unaccustomed. Nearer Asia was, indeed, as we have seen, filled with the idea of a young and beautiful God, who reanimated Nature by his death; with popular legends connected with his violent end and glorious resurrection: and not merely in Tarsus, but also in Cyprus and in countless other places of the Western Asiatic civilised world, there was the yearly celebration in most impressive fashion of the feast of this God, who was called Tammuz, Adonis, Attis, Dionysus, Osiris, &c. Nowhere, perhaps, was the celebration more magnificent than at Antioch, the Syrian capital. But at Antioch, if we may believe the Acts [327] on this point, the Gospel of Jesus had been preached even before Paul. Men of Cyprus and Cyrene are said to have spoken there the Word of the dead and risen Christ, not only to the Jews but also to the Greeks, and they are said to have converted many of the heathens to the new "Lord." The Acts tells us this after it has recounted the persecution of the community of the Messiah at Jerusalem; representing the spreading of the Gospel as a consequence of the dispersion of the community that followed the persecution. It seems, however, that Cyprus--where Adonis was particularly worshipped, at Paphos--and Cyrene were very early centres from which missionaries carried abroad the faith in Christ. [328] Consequently the Gospel was in origin nothing but a Judaised and spiritualised Adonis cult. [329] Those earliest missionaries of whom we hear would not have attacked the faith of the Syrian heathens: they would have declared that Christ, the Messiah, the God of the Jewish religions, was Adonis: Christ is the "Lord"! They would only have attempted to draw the old native religion of Adonis into the Jewish sphere of thought, and by this means to carry on the Jewish propaganda which they could find everywhere at work, and which developed an efficacy about the beginning of our epoch such as it had never before possessed. They would carry on the propaganda, not in the sense of the strict standpoint of the Law, but of the Jewish Apocalypses and their religious teachings. [330] Such a man as Paul, who had been educated in the school of Gamaliel as a teacher of the Law of the strict Pharisaical sort, could not indeed calmly look on while the heathen belief in Adonis, which he must surely, even in his native city of Tarsus, have despised as a blasphemous superstition, was uniting itself, in the new religious sects, with the Jewish conceptions. "Cursed is he who is hung upon the tree," so it stood written in the Law; [331] and the ceremony of the purification--at which one criminal was hung, amid the insults of the people, as the scapegoat of the old year, while another was set free as Mordecai, and driven with regal honours through the city, being revered as representative of the new year--must have been in his eyes only another proof of the disgrace of the tree, and of the blasphemous character of a belief that honoured in the hanged man the divine Saviour of the world, the Messiah expected by the Jews. Then on a sudden there came over him as it were enlightenment. What if the festivals of the Syrian Adonis, of the Phrygian Attis, and so on, really treated of the self-sacrifice of a God who laid down his life for the world? The guiltless martyrdom of an upright man as expiatory means to the justification of his people was also not unknown to the adherents of the Law since the days of the Maccabean martyrs. The "suffering servant of God," as Isaiah had portrayed him, suggests as quite probable the idea that, just as among the heathen peoples, in Israel also an individual might renew the life of all others by his voluntary sacrifice. Might it not be true, as the adherents of the Jesus-religions maintained, that the Messiah was really a "servant of God," and had already accomplished the work of redemption by his own voluntary death? According to the heathen view, the people were atoned for by the vicarious sacrifice of their God, and that "justification" of all in the sight of the Godhead took place which the pious Pharisee expected from the strict fulfilment of the Jewish Law. And yet, when Paul compared the "righteousness" actually achieved by himself and others with the ideal of righteousness for which they strove, as it was required in the Law, then terror at the greatness of the contrast between the ideal and the reality must have seized him; and at the same time he might well have despaired of the divine righteousness, which required of the people the fulfilment of the Law, which weighed the people down with the thought of the imminent end of the world, and which, through the very nature of its commands, excluded the possibility of the Messiah meeting on his arrival, as he should have done, with a "righteous" people. Were those who expected the sanctification of humanity not from the fulfilment of the Law, but immediately, through an infusion of God himself, really so much in the wrong? It was not unusual among the heathen peoples for a man to be sacrificed, in the place of the Deity, as a symbolical representative; although already at the time of Paul it was the custom to represent the self-sacrificing God only by an effigy, instead of a real man. The important point, however, was not this, but the idea which lay at the foundation of this divine self-sacrifice. And this was not affected by the victim's being a criminal, who was killed in the rôle of the guiltless and upright man, and by the voluntariness of his death being completely fictitious. Might it not also be, as the believers in Jesus asserted, that the Messiah was not still to be expected, and that only on the ground of human righteousness; but that rather he had already appeared, and had already accomplished the righteousness unattainable by the individual through his shameful death and his glorious resurrection? The moment in which this idea flashed through Paul's mind was the moment of the birth of Christianity as Paul's religion. The form in which he grasped that conception was that of an Incarnation of God; and at the same time this form was such that he introduced with it quite a new impulse into the former mode of thought. According to the heathen conception a God did indeed sacrifice himself for his people, without thereby ceasing to be God; and here the man sacrificed in the place of God was considered merely as a chance representative of the self-sacrificing God. According to the old view of the Jewish faith it was really the "Son of Man," a being of human nature, who was to come down from heaven and effect the work of redemption, without, however, being a real man and without suffering and dying in human form. With Paul, on the contrary, the stress lay just on this, that the Redeemer should be himself really a man, and that the man sacrificed in God's place should be equally the God appearing in human form: the man was not merely a representation of God's as a celestial and supernatural being, but God himself appearing in human form. God himself becomes man, and thereby a man is exalted to the Deity, and, as expiatory representative for his people, can unite mankind with God. [332] The man who is sacrificed for his people represents on the one hand his people in the eyes of God, but on the other hand the God sacrificing himself for mankind in the eyes of this people. And thereby, in the idea of the representative expiatory victim, the separation between God and Man is blotted out, and both fuse directly in the conception of the "God-man." God becomes man, and by this means mankind is enabled to become God. The man is sacrificed as well in the place of God as in that of mankind, and so unites both contradictories in a unity within himself. It is evident that in reality it was merely a new setting to the old conception of the representative self-sacrifice of God--in which the genitive is to be taken both in its subjective and objective sense. No historical personality, who should, so to say, have lived as an example of the God-man, was in any way necessary to produce that Pauline development of the religion of Jesus. For the chance personalities of the men representing the God came under consideration just as little for Paul as for the heathens; and when he also, with the other Jews, designated the Messiah Jesus as the bodily descendant of David "according to the flesh," [333] i.e., as a man; when he treated him as "born of woman," he thought not at all of any concrete individuality, which had at a certain time embodied the divinity within itself, but purely of the idea of a Messiah in the flesh; just as the suffering servant of God of Isaiah, even in spite of the connection of this idea with an actually accomplished human sacrifice, had possessed only an ideal imaginary or typical significance. The objection is always being raised that Paul must have conceived of Jesus as an historical individual because he designates him as the bodily descendant of David, and makes him "born of woman" (Gal. iv. 4). But how else could he have been born? (Cf. Job xiv. 1.) The bringing into prominence the birth from woman, as well as the general emphasis laid by the Apostle on the humanity of Jesus, is directed against the Gnostics in the Corinthian community, but proves nothing whatsoever as to the historical Jesus. And the descent from David was part of the traditional characteristics of the Messiah; so that Paul could say it of Jesus without referring to a real descendant of David. But even less is proved by Paul's, in Gal. iii. 1, reproaching the Galatians with having seen the crucified Christ "set forth openly"; we would then have to declare also that there was an actual devil and a hell, because these are set forth to the faithful by the "caretakers of their souls" when preaching. Here then lies the explanation for the fact that the "man" Jesus remained an intangible phantom to Paul, and that he can speak of Christ as a man, without thinking of an historical personality in the sense of the liberal theology of the present day. The ideal man, as Paul represented Jesus to himself--the essence of all human existence--the human race considered as a person, who represented humanity to God, just as the man sacrificed in his rôle had represented the Deity to the people--the "Man" on whom alone redemption depended--is and remains a metaphysical Being--just as the Idea of Plato or the Logos of Philo are none the less metaphysical existences because of their descent into the world of the senses and of their assuming in it a definite individual corporality. And what Paul teaches concerning the "man" Jesus is only a detailed development and deepening of what the Mandæi believed of their Mandä de hajjê or Hibil Ziwâ, and of what the Jewish religions under the influence of the Apocalypses involved in their mysterious doctrines of the Messiah. For Paul the descent, death, and resurrection of Jesus represented an eternal but not an actual story in time; and so to search Paul for the signs of an historical Jesus is to misunderstand the chief point in his religious view of the world. God, the "father" of our "Lord" Jesus Christ, "awakened" his son and sent him down upon the earth for the redemption of mankind. Although originally one with God, and for that reason himself a divine being, Christ nevertheless renounced his original supernatural existence. In contradiction to his real Being he changed his spiritual nature for "the likeness of sinful flesh," gave up his heavenly kingdom for the poverty and misery of human existence, and came to mankind in the form of a servant, "being found in fashion as a man," in order to bring redemption. [334] For man is unable to obtain religious salvation through himself alone. In him the spirit is bound to the flesh, his divine supersensible Being is bound down to the material of sensible actuality, and for that reason he is subject "by nature" to misfortune and sin. All flesh is necessarily "sinful flesh." Man is compelled to sin just in so far as he is a being of the flesh. Adam, moreover, is the originator of all human sin only for the reason that he was "in the flesh"--that is, a finite Being imprisoned in corporality. Probably God gave the Law unto mankind, in order to show them the right path in their obscurity; and thereby opened the possibility of being declared righteous or "justified" before his court, through the fulfilment of his commands; but it is impossible to keep the commandments in their full severity. And yet only the ceaseless fulfilment of the whole Law can save mankind from justice. We are all sinners. [335] So the Law indeed awakened the knowledge of guilt, and brought sin to light through its violation; but it has at the same time increased the guilt. [336] It has shown itself to be a strict teacher and taskmaster in righteousness, without, however, itself leading to righteousness. So little has it proved to be the desired means of salvation, that it may equally be said of it that it was given by God not for the purpose of saving mankind, but only to make it still more miserable. Consequently Paul would rather attribute the mediation of the Law of Moses not to God himself but to his angels, in order to relieve God of the guilt of the Law. [337] This circumstance is of so much the more consequence for mankind, because the sin aroused by the Law unresistingly drew death in its train; and that deprived them also of the last possibility of becoming equal to their higher spiritual nature. So is man placed midway between light and darkness--a pitiable Being. His spirit, that is kin with God, draws him upwards; and the evil spirit and dæmons drag him downwards, the evil spirits who rule this world and who lure him into sin--and who are at bottom nothing but mythical personifications of man's sinful and fleshly desires. Christ now enters this world of darkness and of sin. As a man among men, he enters the sphere over which the flesh and sin have power, and must die as other men. But for the incarnate God death is not what it is in the ordinary sense. For him it is only the liberation from the incongruous condition of the flesh. When Christ dies, he merely strips off the fetters of the flesh and leaves the prison of the body, leaves the sphere over which sin, death, and evil spirits hold their sway. He, the God-man, dies to the sin, which was once unknown to him, once and for all. By prevailing over the power of death in his resurrection, the Son regains, by means of death, his original individual existence, perpetual life in and with the Father. [338] Thus also does he attain mastery over the Law, for this rules only in so far as there are fleshly men of earth, and ceases to hold good for him at the moment when Christ raises himself above the flesh and returns to his pure spiritual nature. Were there the possibility for mankind of similarly dying to their flesh, then would they be redeemed, as Christ was, from sin, death, and the Law. There is, in fact, such a possibility. It lies in this: even Christ himself is nothing but the idea of the human race conceived as a personality, the Platonic idea of Humanity personified, the ideal man as a metaphysical essence; and so in his fate the fate of all mankind is fulfilled. In this sense the saying holds, "If one has died for all, then have they all died." [339] In order to become partakers of the fruit of this Jesus' death, it is certainly necessary that the individual man become really one with Christ; that he enter into an inner unity with the representative, with the divine type of the human race, not merely subjectively, but objectively and actually; and this takes place, according to Paul, by means of "faith." Faith, as Paul understands it, is not a purely external belief in the actuality of Jesus' death as a victim and of his resurrection, but the turning of the whole man to Jesus, the spiritual unification with him and the divine disposition produced thereby, from which the corresponding moral action proceeds of itself. It is only in this sense that Paul sets faith above works as demanded by the Law. An action that does not proceed from faith, from the deepest conviction of the divine, has no religious value, be it ever so conformable to the letter of the Law. That is a view which Paul completely shared with the Stoic philosophy of his age, and which was at that time being brought more and more to the front in the more advanced circles of the old civilisation. Man is justified not through the Law, not through works, but through faith; faith, even without works, is reckoned as righteousness. [340] It is only another expression for the same thought when Paul says that God justifies man, not according to his merit and actions, but "gratuitously," "of his grace." In the conception of the Jewish religion of the Law the idea of justification has a purely juridical significance. Reward here answers exactly to merit. Justification is nothing but an "obligation" according to an irrevocable standard. In Paul's new conception it is, on the contrary, a natural product of God's mercy. But mercy consists finally in this, that God of his own accord sacrificed his Son, so that mankind may share in the effects of his work of redemption by "faith" in him, and by the unity with him thus brought about. But faith is only one way of becoming one with Christ; and real unity with him must also be externally effected. Baptism and the Lord's Supper must be added to faith. There Paul directly follows the Mysteries and their sacramental conception of man's unification with the deity; and shows the connection of his own doctrines with those of the heathen religions. By his baptism, his immersion and disappearance in the depths of the water, man is "buried in death" with Christ. In that he rises once more from the water, the resurrection with Christ to a new life is fulfilled, not merely in a symbolic but also in a magical mystic fashion. [341] And Christ is as it were "put on" [342] through Baptism, so that henceforth the baptized is, no longer potentially but actually, one with Christ; Christ is in him, and he is in Christ. The Lord's Supper is indeed on one hand a feast of fraternal love and recollection, in memory of the Saviour; just as the adherents of Mithras used to hold their love-feasts (Agape) in memory of their God's parting feast with his own people. [343] But on the other hand it is a mystic communion of the blood and body of Christ, through the drinking of the sacramental chalice and the eating of the sacramental bread--a mystic communion in no other sense than that in which the heathens thought they entered into inner connection with their Gods through sacrificial feasts, and in which savages generally even to-day believe that through the eating of another's flesh, be it beast's or man's, and through the drinking of his blood, they become partakers of the power residing in him. [344] Even for Paul baptism and the Lord's Supper are to such an extent purely natural processes or magic practices, that he does not object to the heathen custom of baptizing, by proxy, living Christians for dead ones; and in his opinion unworthy eating and drinking of the Lord's Supper produce sickness and death. [345] In this respect, consequently, there can be no talk of a "transcending of the naturalism of the heathen mysteries" in Paul; and to attribute to him a much higher or more spiritual conception of the sacrament than the heathens had seems difficult to reconcile with his express statements. [346] Now Christ, as already stated, is for Paul only a comprehensive expression for the ideal totality of men, which is therein represented as an individual personal being. It is clearly the Platonic idea of humanity, and nothing else; just as Philo personified the divine intelligence and made this coalesce with the "ideal man," with the idea of humanity. [347] As in the Platonic view the union of man with the ideal takes place through love, through immediate intellectual perception on the basis of ideal knowledge, and the contradiction between the world of sense and the world of ideas is overcome by the same means; as also thereby man is raised to membership in the cosmos of ideas; in just such a manner, according to Paul, Christians unite together by means of faith and the sacraments into constitutive moments of the ideal humanity. Thus they realise the idea of humanity, and enter into a mystic communion with Jesus, who himself, as we have already said, represents this idea in its united compass. The consequence of this is, that all that is fulfilled in Christ is equally experienced along with him, in mysterious fashion, by those men who are united with him. Consequently they can now be termed "members of the one body of Christ," who is its "head" or "Soul"; and this indeed in the same sense as with Plato the different ideas form but members and moments of the one world of ideas, and their plurality is destroyed in the unity of the comprehensive and determining idea of the One or the Good. Just what an elevation of the spirit to the world of ideas is for Plato, the union of mankind with Christ is for Paul. What the man actually in possession of knowledge, the "wise man," is for the former, "Christ" is for the latter. What is there called Eros--the mediator of the unity between the world of ideas and the sense-world, of Being and Conscious Being, of objective and subjective thought, and at the same time the very essence of all objective thought--is here called Christ. Eros is called by Plato the son of riches and poverty, who bears the "nature and signs" of both: "He is quite poor, runs around barefoot and homeless, and must sleep on the naked earth without a roof, in the open air, at the doors and on the streets, in conformity with his mother's nature." "As, however, he is neither mortal nor immortal, at one moment he is flourishing and full of life, at another he is weary and dies away, and all that often on the self-same day; but ever he rises up again in life in conformity with his father's nature." [348] So also the Pauline Christ contains all the fulness of the Godhead [349] and is himself the "Son of God"; yet nevertheless Christ debases himself, takes on the form of a servant, becomes Man, and dies, thereby placing himself in direct opposition to his real nature, but only to rise again continually in each individual man and allow mankind to participate in his own life. And as Christ (in 1 Tim. ii. 5) is the "mediator" between God and men, so also the Platonic Eros "is midway between the immortal and the mortal." "Eros, O Socrates, is a daimon, a great daimon, and everything of this nature is intermediate between God and man. The daimon transfers to the Gods what comes from man, and to man what comes from the Gods; from the one prayer and sacrifice, from the other the orders and rewards for the sacrifice. Midway, he fills the gap between the immortal and the mortal, and everything is through him bound into one whole. By his mediation is disseminated every prophecy and the religious skill which has reference to sacrifice, sanctification, sacred maxims, and each prediction and magic spell. God himself does not mix with mankind, but all intercourse and all speech between God and man, as well in waking as in sleep, takes place in the way mentioned. Whoever has experienced this, in him is the daimon." In this connection we recall to our minds that Eros appears in the "Timæus" under the name of the "world-soul," and this is supposed by Plato to have the form of an oblique cross. [350] The Platonic Eros is the mythical personification of the conception that the contemplation of Being (obj. gen.) as such is at the same time a contemplation of Being's (sub. gen.); or that in the contemplation of the Ideas the subjective thought of the Philosopher and the objective ideal Reality as it were meet each other from two sides and fuse directly into a unity. [351] It is thus only the scientific and theoretical formulation of the fundamental idea of the old Aryan Fire Cult. According to this the sacrifice of Agni--that is, the victim which man offers to God--is as such equally Agni's sacrifice, the victim which God offers, and in which he sacrifices himself for humanity. It is in agreement with this that according to Paul the death and resurrection of Christ, as they take place in the consciousness of the believer, represent a death and resurrection of Christ as a divine personality: man dies and lives again with Christ, and God and man are completely fused together in the believer. As mankind by this means becomes a "member" of the "Body of Christ," so in the Vedic conception the partaker of the Fire-God's sacrifice, by the tasting of the blood and the eating of the sacred bread, is associated with a mystic body, and is infused with the one Spirit of God, which destroys his sins in its sacred fire, and flows through him with new life-power. In India, from the cult of the Fire-God and the complete unity of God and man thereby attained, Brahmanism was developed, and gained an influence over all the Indian peoples. In Plato intellectual contemplation formed the basis of cognition. He placed the wise man at the head of the social organism, and regarded the philosopher as the only man fitted for the government of the world. And the future development of the Church as a "Communion of Saints" appears already in the Pauline conception of the faithful as the "Body of Christ," in which the Idea of the human race (Christ) is realised, as the kingdom of God upon earth, as the true humanity, as the material appearance of the divine ideal man, to belong to which is mankind's duty, and without which it is impossible for man to live in his real ideal nature. Ancient philosophy had attempted until now in vain to overcome the contradiction between the sense-world and the world of ideas, and to destroy the uncertainty of human thought and life which results from this contradiction. From the time of Plato it had worked at the problem of uniting, without contradiction, Nature and Spirit, whose contradictory nature had first been brought to notice by the founder of metaphysical idealism. Religion, particularly in the Mystery Cults, had tried to solve in a practical way the problem that seemed insoluble by abstract means, and had sought to secure for man a new basis and resting-place by means of devotion and "revelation"--a mystic sinking into the depths of God. But Paul's Christianity first gave a form to all this obscure desire, a form which united the thrills and joy of mystic ecstasy with the certainty of a comprehensive religious view of the world, and enlightened men as to the deepest meaning of their emotional impulse towards certainty: man obtains unity with God and certainty as to the true reality, not by an abstract dialectic, as Plato supposed; not by logical insight into the cosmos in the sense of an abstract knowledge attainable only by the few, but through faith, through the divine act of redemption. To adopt this internally, thereby to live with it directly--this alone can give man the possibility of emerging from the uncertainty and darkness of corporeal existence into the clear light of the spiritual. All certainty of the true or essential being is consequently a certainty of faith, and there is no higher certainty than that which is given to men in faith and piety. As Christ died and was thereby freed from the bonds of the body and of the world, so also must man die in the spirit. He must lay aside the burden of this body, the real cause of all his ethical and intellectual shortcomings. He must inwardly rise with Christ and be born again, thereby taking part in his spiritual certitude and gaining together with the "Life in the Spirit" salvation from all his present shortcomings. It is true that outwardly the body still exists, even after the inner act of redemption has taken place. Even when the man who died with Christ has arisen and has become a new man, he is nevertheless still subject to corporeal limitations. The redeemed man is still in the world and must fight with its influences. But what man gains in the union with the body of Christ is the "Spirit" of Christ, which holds the members of the body together, shows itself to be active in everything which belongs to the body, and acts in man as a supernatural power. This spirit, as it dwells henceforth in the redeemed man, works and directs and drives him on to every action; lifts man in idea far above all the limitations of his fleshly nature; strengthens him in his weakness; shows him existence in a new light, so that henceforth he feels himself no longer bound; gives him the victory over the powers of earth, and enables him to anticipate, even in this life, the blessedness of his real and final redemption in a life to come. [352] But the spirit of Christ as such is equally the divine spirit. So that the redeemed, as they receive the spirit of Christ, are the "sons" of God himself, and this is expressed by saying that with the spirit they "inherit the glorious freedom of the children of God." [353] For, as Paul says, "the Lord is the spirit; but where the spirit is, there is freedom." [354] So that when the Christian feels himself transformed into a "new creature," equipped with power of knowledge and of virtue, blest in the consciousness of his victorious strength over carnal desires, and wins his peace in faith, this is only the consequence of a superhuman spirit working in him. Hence the Christian virtues of Brotherly Love, Humility, Obedience, &c., are necessary consequences of the possession of the Spirit: "If we live by the Spirit, by the Spirit let us also walk." [355] And if the faithful suddenly develop a fulness of new and wonderful powers, which exceed man's ordinary nature--such as facility in "tongues," in prophecy, and in the healing of the sick--this is, in the superstitious view of the age, only to be explained by the indwelling activity of a supernatural spirit-being that has entered man from the outside. Certainly it does not seem clear, in the Pauline conception of the redemption, how this heavenly spirit can at the same time be the spirit of man--how it can be active in man without removing the particular and original spirit of man, and without reducing the individual to a passive tool, to a lifeless puppet without self-determination and responsibility; how the man "possessed" by such a spirit can nevertheless feel himself free and redeemed by the Spirit. For it is in truth an alien spirit, one that does not in essence belong to him, which enters man through the union with Christ. Yet it is supposed to be the spirit, not merely of the individual man, but also Christ's personal spirit. One and the same spirit putting on a celestial body of light must be enthroned on the right hand of the Father in heaven, and must also be on earth the spirit of those who believe in it, setting itself to work in them as the source of Gnosis, of full mystic knowledge; and, as the power of God, as the spirit of salvation, must produce in them supernatural effects. [356] It must be on the one hand an objective and actual spirit-being which in Christ becomes man, dies, and rises again; and on the other hand an inner subjective power, which produces in each individual man the extinction of the flesh and a new birth which is to be shared by the faithful as the fruit of their individual redemption. That is perhaps comprehensible in the mode of thought of an age for which the idea of personality had as yet no definite meaning, and which consequently saw no contradiction in this, that a personal Christ-spirit should at the same time inhabit a number of individual spirits; and which did not differentiate between the one, or rather the continual, act of redemption by God and its continual temporal repetition in the individual. We can understand this only if the Pauline Christ is a purely metaphysical being. It is, on the contrary, quite incomprehensible if Paul is supposed to have gained his idea of the mediator of salvation from any experience of an historical Jesus and his actual death. Only because in his doctrine of the saving power of the Christ-spirit Paul had thought of no particular human personality could he imagine the immanence of the divine in the world to be mediated by that spirit. Only because he connected no other idea with the personality of Jesus than the Book of Wisdom or Philo did with their particular immanence principles, does he declare that Christ brings about salvation. So that Christ, as the principle of redemption, is for Paul only an allegorical or symbolical personality and not a real one. He is a personality such as were the heathen deities, who passed as general cosmic powers without prejudice to their appearing in human form. Personality is for Paul only another mode of expressing the supernatural spirituality and directed activity of the principle of redemption, in distinction from the blindly working powers and material realities of religious naturalism. It serves merely to suggest spirituality to an age which could only represent spirit as a material fluid. It corresponds simply to the popular conception of the principle of redemption, which treated this as bound up with the idea of a human being. But it in no way referred to a real historical individual, showing, in fact, just by the uncertainty and fluctuation of the idea, how far the Christ of the Pauline doctrine of redemption was from being connected with a definite historical reality. Not because he so highly esteemed and revered Jesus as an historical personality did Paul make Christ the bearer and mediator of redemption, but because he knew nothing at all of an historical Jesus, of a human individual of this name, to whom he would have been able to transfer the work of redemption. "Faithful disciples," Wrede considers, "could not so easily believe that the man who had sat with them at table in Capernaum, or had journeyed over the Sea of Galilee with them, was the creator of the world. For Paul this obstacle was absent." [357] But Paul is nevertheless supposed to have met James, the "Brother of the Lord," and to have had dealings with him which would certainly have modified his view of Jesus, if here there were really question of a corporeal brotherhood. What a wonderful idea our theologians must have of a man like Paul if they think that it could ever have occurred to him to connect such tremendous conceptions with a human individual Jesus as he does with his Christ! It is true that there is a type of religious ecstasy in which the difference between man and God is completely lost sight of; and, especially at the beginning of our era, in the period of Cæsar-worship and of the deepest religious superstition, it was not in itself unusual to deify, after his death, a man who was highly esteemed. A great lack of reason, a great mental confusion, an immense flight of imagination, would be necessary to transform a man not long dead, who was still clearly remembered by his relatives and contemporaries, not merely into a divine hero or demi-god, but into the world-forming spiritual principle, into the metaphysical mediator of redemption and the "second God." And if, as even Wrede acknowledges in the above-quoted words, personal knowledge of Jesus was really an "obstacle" to his apotheosis, how is it to be explained that the "First Apostles" at Jerusalem took no exception to that representation of Paul's? They surely knew who Jesus had been; they knew the Master through many years' continual wandering with him. And however highly they may always have thought of the risen Jesus, however intimately they may have joined in their minds the memory of the man Jesus with the prevailing idea of the Messiah, according to the prevalent theological opinion, even they are supposed to have risen in no way to such a boundless deification of their Lord and Master as Paul undertook a comparatively short while after Jesus' death. "Paul already believed in such a heavenly Being, in a divine Christ, before he believed in Jesus." [358] The truth is that he never believed at all in the Jesus of liberal theology. The "man" Jesus already belonged to his faith in Christ, so far as Christ's act of redemption was supposed to consist in his humbling himself and becoming man--and no historical Jesus was necessary for that. For Paul also, just as for the whole heathen world, the man actually sacrificed in God's place was at best merely a chance symbol of the God presenting himself as victim. Hence it cannot be said that the man Jesus was but "the bearer of all the great attributes," which as such had been long since determined; [359] or, as Gunkel puts it, that the enthusiastic disciples had transferred to him all that the former Judaism had been wont to ascribe to the Messiah; and that consequently the Christology of the New Testament, in spite of its unhistorical nature, was nevertheless "a mighty hymn which History sings to Jesus"(!). [360] If we once agree as to the existence of a pre-Christian Jesus--and even Gunkel, apart from Robertson and Smith, has worked for the recognition of this fact--then this can in the first place produce nothing but a strong suspicion against the historical Jesus; and it seems a despairing subterfuge of the "critical" theology to seek to find capital, from the existence of a pre-Christian Jesus, for the "unique" significance of their "historical" Jesus. Christ's life and death are for Paul neither the moral achievement of a man nor in any way historical facts, but something super-historical, events in the supersensible world. [361] Further, the "man" Jesus comes in question for Paul, just as did the suffering servant of God for Isaiah, exclusively as an Idea, and his death is, like his resurrection, but the purely ideal condition whereby redemption is brought about. "If Christ hath not been raised, your faith is vain." [362] On this declaration has till now been founded the chief proof that an historical Jesus was to Paul the pre-supposition of his doctrine. But really that declaration in Paul's mouth points to nothing but the faith of his contemporaries, who expected natural and religious salvation from the resurrection of their God, whether he were called Adonis, Attis, Dionysus, Osiris, or anything else. The fact is therefore settled, that Paul knew nothing of an historical Jesus; and that even if he had known anything of him, this Jesus in any case plays no part for him, and exercised no influence over the development of his religious view of the world. Let us consider the importance of this: the very man from whom we derive the first written testimony as to Christianity, who was the first in any way to establish it as a new religion differing from Judaism, on whose teachings alone the whole further development of Christian thought has depended--this Paul knew absolutely nothing of Jesus as an historical personality. In fact, with perfect justice from his point of view he was even compelled to excuse himself, when others wished to enlighten him as to such a personality! At the present day it will be acknowledged by all sensible people that, as Ed. von Hartmann declared more than thirty years ago, without Paul the Christian movement would have disappeared in the sand, just as the many other Jewish religions have done--at best to afford interest to investigators as an historical curiosity--and Paul had no knowledge of Jesus! The formation and development of the Christian religion began long before the Jesus of the Gospels appeared, and was completed independently of the historical Jesus of theology. Theology has no justification for treating Christianity merely as the "Christianity of Christ," as it now is sufficiently evident; nor should it present a view of the life and doctrines of an ideal man Jesus as the Christian religion. [363] The question raised at the beginning, as to what we learn from Paul about the historical Jesus, has found its answer--nothing. There is little value, then, in the objection to the disbelievers in such a Jesus which is raised on the theological side in triumphant tones: that the historical existence of Jesus is "most certainly established" by Paul. This objection comes, in fact, even from such people as regard the New Testament, in other respects, with most evidently sceptical views. The truth is that the Pauline epistles contain nothing which would force us to the belief in an historical Jesus; and probably no one would find such a person in them if that belief was not previously established in him. It must be considered that, if the Pauline epistles stood in the edition of the New Testament where they really belong--that is, before the Gospels--hardly any one would think that Jesus, as he there meets him, was a real man and had wandered on the earth in flesh and blood; but he would in all probability only find therein a detailed development of the "suffering servant of God," and would conclude that it was an irruption of heathen religious ideas into Jewish thought. Our theologians are, however, so strongly convinced of it a priori--that the Pauline representation of Christ actually arose from the figure of Jesus wandering on earth--that even M. Brückner confesses, in the preface to his work, that he had been "himself astonished" (!) at the result of his inquiry--the independence of the Pauline representation of Christ from the historical personality, Jesus. [364] Christianity is a syncretic religion. It belongs to those multiform religious movements which at the commencement of our era were struggling with one another for the mastery. Setting out from the Apocalyptic idea and the expectation of the Messiah among the Jewish sects, it was borne on the tide of a mighty social agitation, which found its centre and its point of departure in the religious sects and Mystery communities. Its adherents conceived the Messiah not merely as the Saviour of souls, but as deliverer from slavery, from the lot of the poor and the oppressed, and as the bearer of a new justice. [365] It borrowed the chief part of its doctrine, the specific point in which it differed from ordinary Judaism, the central idea of the God sacrificing himself for mankind, from the neighbouring peoples, who had brought down this belief into Asia, in connection with fire-worship, from its earlier home in the North. Only in so far as that faith points in the end to an Aryan origin can it be said that Jesus was "an Aryan"; any further statements on this point, such as, for example, Chamberlain makes in his "Grundlagen des neunzehnten Jahrhunderts," are pure fancies, and rest on a complete misunderstanding of the true state of affairs. Christianity, as the religion of Christ, of the "Lord," who secularised the Jewish Law by his voluntary death of expiation, did not "arise" in Jerusalem, but, if anywhere, in the Syrian capital Antioch, one of the principal places of the worship of Adonis. For it was at Antioch where, according to the Acts, [366] the name "Christians" was first used for the adherents of the new religion, who had till then been usually called Nazarenes. [367] That certainly is in sharpest contradiction to tradition, according to which Christianity is supposed to have arisen in Jerusalem and to have been thence spread abroad among the heathen. But Luke's testimony as to the arising of the community of the Messiah at Jerusalem and the spreading of the Gospel from that place can lay no claim to historical significance. Even the account of the disciples' experience at Easter and of the first appearances after the Resurrection, from their contradictory and confused character appear to be legendary inventions. [368] Unhistorical, and in contradiction to the information on this point given by Matthew and Mark, is the statement that the disciples stayed in Jerusalem after Jesus' death, which is even referred by Luke to an express command of the dead master. [369] Unhistorical is the assemblage at Pentecost and the wonderful "miracle" of the outpouring of the Holy Ghost, which, as even Clemen agrees, probably originated from the Jewish legends, according to which the giving of the Law on Sinai was made in seventy different languages, in order that it might be understood by all peoples. [370] But also Stephen's execution and the consequent persecution of the community at Jerusalem are legendary inventions. [371] The great trouble which Luke takes to represent Jerusalem as the point whence the Christian movement set out, clearly betrays the tendency of the author of the Acts to misrepresent the activity of the Christian propaganda, which really emanated from many centres, as a bursting out of the Gospel from one focus. It is meant to produce the impression that the new religion spread from Jerusalem over the whole world like an explosion; and thus its almost simultaneous appearance in the whole of Nearer Asia is explained. For this reason "devout Jews of all nations" were assembled in Jerusalem at Pentecost, and could understand each other in spite of their different languages. For this reason Stephen was stoned, and the motive given for that persecution which in one moment scattered the faithful in all directions. [372] Now it is certainly probable that there was in Jerusalem, just as in many other places, a community of the Messiah which believed in Jesus as the God sacrificing himself for humanity. But the question is whether this belief, in the community at Jerusalem, rested on a real man Jesus; and whether it is correct to regard this community, some of whose members were personally acquainted with Jesus, and who were the faithful companions of his wanderings, as the "original community" in the sense of the first germ and point of departure of the Christian movement. We may believe, with Fraser, that a Jewish prophet and itinerant preacher, who by chance was named Jesus, was seized by his opponents, the orthodox Jews, on account of his revolutionary agitation, and was beheaded as the Haman of the current year, thereby giving occasion for the foundation of the community at Jerusalem. [373] Against this it may be said that our informants as to the beginning of the Christian propaganda certainly vary, now making one assertion, now another, without caring whether these are contradictory; and they all strive to make up for the lack of any certain knowledge by unmistakable inventions. If the doctrine of Jesus was, as Smith declares, pre-Christian, "a religion which was spread among the Jews and especially the Greeks within the limits of the century [100 B.C. to 100 A.D.], more or less secretly, and wrapped up in 'Mysteries,'" then we can understand both the sudden appearance of Christianity over so wide a sphere as almost the whole of Nearer Asia, and also the fact that even the earliest informants as to the beginning of the Christian movement had nothing certain to tell. This, however, seems quite irreconcilable with the view of a certain, definite, local, and personal point of departure for the new doctrine. [374] The objection will be raised: what about the Gospels? They, at least, clearly tell the story of a human individual, and are inexplicable, apart from the belief in an historical Jesus. The question consequently arises as to the source from which the Gospels derived a knowledge of this Jesus; for on this alone the belief in an historical Jesus can rest. II THE JESUS OF THE GOSPELS However widely views may differ even now in the sphere of Gospel criticism, all really competent investigators agree on one point with rare unanimity: the Gospels are not historical documents in the ordinary sense of the word, but creeds, religious books, literary documents revealing the mind of the Christian community. Their purpose is consequently not to give information as to the life and teachings of Jesus which would correspond to reality, but to awaken belief in Jesus as the Messiah sent from God for the redemption of his people, to strengthen and defend that belief against attacks. And as creeds they confine themselves naturally to recounting such words and events as have any significance for the faith; and they have the greatest interest in so arranging and representing the facts as to make them accord with the content of that faith. (a) The Synoptic Jesus. Of the numerous Gospels which were still current in the first half of the second century, as is well known, only four have come down to us. The others were not embodied by the Church in the Canon of the New Testament writings, and consequently fell into oblivion. Of these at most a few names and isolated and insignificant fragments remain to us. Thus we know of a Gospel of Matthew, of Thomas, of Bartholomew, Peter, the twelve apostles, &c. Of our four Gospels, two bear the names of apostles and two the names of companions and pupils of apostles, viz., Mark and Luke. In this, of course, it is in no way meant that they were really written by these persons. According to Chrysostom these names were first assigned to them towards the end of the second century. And the titles do not run: Gospel of Matthew, of Mark, and so on, but "according to" Matthew, "according to" Mark, Luke, and John; so that they indicate at most only the persons or schools whose particular conception of the Gospel they represent. Of these Gospels, again, that of John ranks as the latest. It presupposes the others, and shows such a dogmatic tendency, that it cannot be considered the source of the story. Of the remaining Gospels, which on account of their similarity as to form and matter have been termed "Synoptic" (i.e., such as must be dealt with in connection with each other and thus only give a real idea of the Saviour's personality), that of Mark is generally regarded as the oldest. Matthew and Luke rely on Mark, and all three, according to the prevailing view, are indebted to a common Aramaic source, wherein Jesus' didactic sermons are supposed to have been contained. Tradition points to John Mark, the nephew of Barnabas, pupil of Peter, and Paul's companion on his first missionary journey and later a sharer in the captivity at Rome, as the author of the Gospel of Mark. It is believed that this was written shortly after the destruction of Jerusalem (70)--i.e., at least forty years after Jesus' death (!). This tradition depends upon a note of the Church historian Eusebius (d. about 340 A.D.), according to which Papias, Bishop of Hierapolis in Asia Minor, learnt from the "elder John" that Mark had set forth what he had heard from Peter, and what this latter had in turn heard from the "Lord." On account of its indirect nature and of Eusebius' notorious unreliability this note is not a very trustworthy one, [375] and belief in it should disappear in view of the fact that the author of the Gospel of Mark had no idea of the spot where Jesus is supposed to have lived. And yet Mark is supposed to have been born in Jerusalem and to have been a missionary! As Wernle shows in his work, "Die Quellen des Lebens Jesu," Mark stands quite far from the life of Jesus both in time and place(!); indeed, he has no clear idea of Jesus' doings and course of life. [376] And Wrede confirms this in his work, "Das Messias-geheimnis" (1901), probably the clearest and deepest inquiry into the fundamental problem of the Gospel of Mark which we possess. Jesus is for Mark at once the Messiah and the Son of God. "Faith in this dogma must be aroused, it must be established and defended. The whole Gospel is a defence. Mark wishes to lead all his readers, among whom he counts the Heathens and Gentile Christians, to the recognition of what the heathen centurion said, 'Truly this man was the Son of God!' [377] The whole account is directed to this end." [378] Mark's main proof for this purpose is that of miracles. Jesus' doctrines are with Mark of so much less importance than his miracles, that we never learn exactly what Jesus preached. "Consequently the historical portrait is very obscure: Jesus' person is distorted into the grotesque and the fantastic"(!) [379] Not only does Mark often introduce his own thought into the tradition about Jesus, and so prove perfectly wrong, and indeed absurd, the view held, for instance, by Wernle, that Jesus had intentionally made use of an obscure manner of speech and had spoken in parables and riddles so as not to be understood by the people; [380] but also the connection which he has established between the accounts, which had first gone from mouth to mouth for a long time in isolation, is a perfectly disconnected and external one. At first the stories reported by Mark were totally disconnected with one another. There is no evidence at all of their having followed each other in the present order(!). [381] So that only the matter, not what Mark made of it, is of historical value. [382] Single stories, discourses, and phrases are bound into a whole by Mark; and often enough it may be seen that we have here a tradition which was first built up in the earliest Christianity long after Jesus' death. Experiences were at first gradually fashioned into a story--and the miracle-stories may especially be regarded in this way. In spite of all these trimmings and alterations, and in spite of the fact that neither in the words of Jesus nor in the stories is it for the most part any longer possible to separate the actual from the traditional, which for forty years was not put into writing--in spite of all this, the historical value of the traditions given us by Mark is "very highly" estimated. For not only is "the general impression of power, originality, and creation" "valuable," which is given in this account of Mark's, but also there are so many individual phrases "corresponding to reality." Numerous accounts, momentary pictures and remarks, "speak for themselves." The modesty and ingenuousness(!), the freshness and joy(!) with which Mark recounts all this, show distinctly that he is here the reporter of a valid tradition, and that he writes nothing but what eye-witnesses have told him(!). "And so finally, in spite of all, this Gospel remains an extraordinarily valuable work, a collection of old and genuine material, which is loosely arranged and placed under a few leading conceptions; produced perhaps by that Mark whom the New Testament knows, and of whom Papias heard from the mouth of the elder John." [383] One does not trust one's eyes with this style of attempting to set up Mark as an even half-credible "historical source." This attempt will remind us only too forcibly of Wrede's ironical remarks when he is making fun of the "decisions as you like it" that flourish in the study of Jesus' life. "This study," says Wrede, "suffers from psychological suggestion, and this is one style of historical solution." [384] One believes that he can secure this, another that, as the historical nucleus of the Gospel; but neither has objective proofs for his assertions. [385] If we wish to work with an historical nucleus, we must really make certain of a nucleus. The whole point is, that in an anecdote or phrase something is proved, which makes any other explanation of the matter under consideration improbable, or at least doubtful. [386] It seems very questionable, after his radical criticism of the historical credibility of Mark's Gospel, that Wrede saw in it such a "historical kernel"--though this is supposed by Wernle to "speak for itself." Moreover, Wrede's opinion of the "historian" Mark is not essentially different from Wernle's. In his opinion, for example, Jesus' disciples, as the Gospel portrays them, with their want of intelligence bordering on idiocy, their folly, and their ambiguous conduct as regards their Master, are "not real figures." [387] He also concedes, as we have stated, that Mark had no real idea of the historical life of Jesus, [388] even if "pallid fragments"(!) of such an idea entered into his superhistorical faith-conception. "The Gospel of Mark," he says, "has in this sense a place among the histories of dogma." [389] The belief that in it the development of Jesus' public life is still perceptible appears to be decaying. [390] "It would indeed be in the highest degree desirable that such a Gospel were not the oldest." [391] Thus, then, does Mark stand as an historical source. After this we could hardly hope to be much strengthened in our belief in Jesus' historical reality by the other two Synoptics. Of these, Luke's Gospel must have been written, in the early part of the second century, by an unknown Gentile Christian; and Matthew's is not the work of a single author, but was produced--and unmistakably in the interests of the Church--by various hands in the first half of the second century. [392] But now both, as we have said, are based on Mark. And even if in their representations they have attained a certain "peculiar value" which is wanting in Mark--e.g., a greater number of Jesus' parables and words--even if they have embellished the story of his life by the addition of legendary passages (e.g., of the history of the time preceding the Saviour, of many additions to the account of the Passion and Resurrection, &c.), this cannot quite establish the existence of an historical Jesus. It is true that Wernle takes the view that in this respect "old traditions" have been preserved "with wonderful fidelity" by both the Evangelists; but, on the other hand, he concedes as to certain of Luke's accounts that even if he had used old traditions they need not have been as yet written, and certainly they need not have been "historically reliable." It seems rather peculiar when, leaving completely on one side the historical value of the tradition, he emphatically declares that even such a strong interest, as in his opinion the Evangelists had in the shaping and formation of their account, could not in any way set aside "the worth of its rich treasure of parables and stories, through which Jesus himself [!] speaks to us with freshness and originality" (!). He also strangely sums up at the end, "that the peculiar value of both Gospels, in spite of their very mixed nature, has claim enough on our gratitude"(!). [393] This surely is simply to make use of the Gospels' literary or other value in the interest of the belief in their historical credibility. But there is still the collection of sayings, that "great authority on the matter," from which all the Synoptics, and especially Luke and Matthew, are supposed to have derived the material for their declarations about Jesus. Unfortunately this is to us a completely unknown quantity, as we know neither what this "great" authority treats of, nor the arrangement of the matter in it, nor its text. We can only say that this collection was written in the Aramaic tongue, and the arrangement of its matter was not apparently chronological, but according to the similarity of its contents. Again, it is doubtful whether the collection was a single work, produced by one individual; or whether it had had a history before it came to Luke and Matthew. All the same, "the collection contains such a valuable number of the Lord's words, that in all probability an eye-witness was its author" (!). [394] As for the speeches of Jesus constructed from it, they were never really made as speeches by Jesus, but owe the juxtaposition of their contents entirely to the hand of the compiler. Thus the much admired Sermon on the Mount is constructed by placing together individual phrases of Jesus, which belong to all periods of his life, perhaps made in the course of a year. The ideas running through it and connecting the parts are not those of Jesus, but rather those of the original community; "nevertheless, the historical value of these speeches is, on the whole, very great indeed. Together with the 'Lord's words' of Mark they give us the truest insight into the spirit of the Gospel"(!). [395] Such are the authorities for the belief in an historical Jesus! If we survey all that remains of the Gospels, this does indeed appear quite "scanty," or, speaking plainly, pitiable. Wernle consoles himself with, "If only it is certain and reliable." Yes, if! "And if only it was able to give us an answer to the chief question: Who was Jesus?" [396] This much is certain: a "Life of Jesus" cannot be written on the basis of the testimony before us. Probably all present-day theologians are agreed on this point; which, however, does not prevent them producing new essays on it, at any rate for the "people," thus making up for the lack of historical reliability by edifying effusions and rhetorical phrases. "There is no lack of valuable historical matter, of stones for the construction of Jesus' life; they lie before us plentifully. But the plan for the construction is lost and completely irretrievable, because the oldest disciples had no occasion for such an historical connection, but rather claimed obedience to the isolated words and acts, so far as they aroused faith." But would they have been less faith-arousing if they had been arranged connectedly, would the credibility of the accounts of Jesus have been diminished and not much rather increased, if the Evangelists had taken the trouble to give us some more information as to Jesus' real life? As things stand at present, hardly two events are recounted in the same manner in the Gospels, or even in the same connection. Indeed, the differences and contradictions--and this not only as to unimportant things, such as names, times and places, &c.--are so great that these literary documents of Christianity can hardly be surpassed in confusion. [397] But even this is, according to Wernle, "not so great a pity, if only we can discover with sufficient clearness, what Jesus' actions and wishes were on important points." [398] Unfortunately we are not in a position to do even this. For the ultimate source of our information, which we arrive at in our examination of the authorities is completely unknown to us--the Aramaic collection of sayings, and those very old traditions from which Mark is supposed to have derived his production, gleanings of which have been preserved for us by Luke and Matthew. But even if we knew these also, we would almost certainly not have "come to Jesus himself." "They contain the possibility of dispute and misrepresentation. They recount in the first place the faith of the oldest Christians, a faith which arose in the course of four hundred years, and moreover changed much in that time." [399] So that at most we know only the faith of the earliest community. We see how this community sought to make clear to itself through Jesus its belief in the Resurrection, how it sought to "prove" to itself and to others the divine nature of Jesus by the recital of tales of miracles and the like. What Jesus himself thought, what he did, what he taught, what his life was, and--might we say it?--whether he ever lived at all--that is not to be learnt from the Gospels, and, according to all the preceding discussion, cannot be settled from them with lasting certainty. Of course the liberal theologian, for whom everything is compatible with an historical Jesus, has many resources. He explains that all the former discussion has not touched the main point, and that this point is--What was Jesus' attitude to God, to the world, and to mankind? What answer did he give to the questions: What matters in the eyes of God? and What is religion? This should indicate that the solution of the problem is contained in what has preceded, and that this solution is unknown to us. But such is not the case. Wernle knows it, and examines it "in the clear light of day." "From his numerous parables and sermons and from countless momentary recollections it comes to us as clearly and distinctly as if Jesus were our contemporary [!]. No man on earth can say that it is either uncertain or obscure how Jesus thought on this point, which is to us [viz., to the liberal theologians] even at the present day the chief point." "And if Christianity has forgotten for a thousand years what its Master desired first and before all, to-day [i.e., after the clear solutions of critical theology] it shines on us once more from the Gospels as clearly and wonderfully, as if the sun were newly risen, driving before its conquering rays all the phantoms and shadows of night." [400] And so Wernle himself, to whom we owe this consoling assurance, has written a work, "Die Anfänge unserer Religion" (1901), which is highly esteemed in theological circles, and in which he has given a detailed account, in a tone of overwhelming assurance, of the innermost thoughts, views, words, and teachings of Jesus and of his followers, just as if he had been actually present. We must be careful of our language. These are indeed the views of a man who must be taken seriously, with whom we have been dealing above, a "shining light" of his science! The often cited work on "Die Quellen des Lebens Jesu" belongs to the series of "Popular Books on the History of Religion," which contains the quintessence of present-day theological study, and which is intended for the widest circles interested and instructed in religion. We may suppose, probably with justice, that that work expresses what the liberal theology of our day wishes the members of the community subject to it to know and to believe. Or is it only that the popular books on the history of religion place the intellectual standard of their readers so low that they think they can strengthen the educated in their belief in an historical Jesus by productions such as Wernle's? We consider the more "scientifically" elaborated works of other important theologians on the same subject. We think of Beyschlag, Harnack, Bernard Weiss, of Pfleiderer, Jülicher, and Holtzmann. We consult Bousset, who defended against Kalthoff, with such great determination and warmth, the existence of an historical Jesus. Everywhere there is the same half-comic, half-pathetic drama: on the one hand the evangelical authorities are depreciated and the information is criticised away to such an extent that hardly anything positive remains from it; on the other hand there is a pathetic enthusiasm for the so-called "historical kernel." Then comes praise for the so-called critical theology and its "courageous truthfulness," which, however, ultimately consists only in declaring evident myths and legends to be such. This was known for a long time previously among the unprejudiced. There usually follows a hymn to Jesus with ecstatic raising of the eyes, as if all the statements concerning him in the Gospels still had validity. What then does Hausrath say?--"To conceal the miraculous parts of the [evangelical] accounts and then to give out the rest as historical, has not hitherto passed as criticism." [401] Can we object to Catholic theology because it looks with open pity on the whole of Protestant "criticism," and reproaches it with the inconsistency, incompleteness, and lack of results, which is the mark of all its efforts to discover the beginnings of Christianity. [402] Is it not right in rejoicing at the blow which Protestantism has sustained and from which it must necessarily suffer through all such attempts at accepting the Gospels as basis for a belief in an historical Jesus? Certainly what Catholic theologians bring forward in favour of the historical Jesus is so completely devoid of any criticism or even of any genuine desire to elucidate the facts, that it would be doing them too much honour to make any more detailed examination of their works on this point. For them the whole problem has a very simple solution in this: the existence of the historical Jesus forms the unavoidable presupposition of the Church, even though every historical fact should register its veto against it; and as one of its writers has put it, that is at bottom the long-established and unanimous view of all our inquiries into the subject under discussion: "The historical testimony for the authenticity of the Gospels is as old, as extensive, and as well established as it is for very few other books of ancient literature [!]. If we do not wish to be inconsistent we cannot question their authenticity. Their credibility is beyond question; for their authors were eye-witnesses of the events [!] related, or they gained their information from such; they were as competent judges [!] as men loving the truth can well be; they could, and in fact were obliged to speak the truth." [403] How distinguished, as compared with this kind of theologian, Kalthoff seems! It is true that we are obliged to allow for the one-sidedness and insufficiency of his positive working out of the origin of Christianity, of his attempt to explain it, on the basis of Mark's handling of the story, purely on the lines of social motives, and to represent Christ as the mere reflection of the Christian community and of its experiences. Quite certainly he is wrong in identifying the biblical Pilate with Pliny, the governor of Bithynia under Trajan, and in the proof based on this; and this because in all probability Pliny's letter to the Emperor is a later Christian forgery. [404] But Kalthoff is quite right in what he says about modern critical theology and its historical Jesus. The critical theologians may think themselves justified in treating this embarrassing opponent as "incompetent," or in ignoring him on account of the mistaken basis of argument; but all the efforts made with such great perseverance and penetration by historical theologians to derive from the authorities before us proof of the existence of a man Jesus in the traditional sense have led, as Kalthoff very justly says, to a purely negative conclusion. "The numerous passages in the Gospels which this theology, in maintaining its historical Jesus, is obliged to place on one side and pass over, stand from a literary point of view exactly on the same footing as those passages from which it constructs its historical Jesus; and consequently they claim historical value equal to these latter. The Synoptic Christ, in whom modern theology thinks it finds the characteristics of the historical Jesus, stands not a hair's breadth nearer to a human interpretation of Christianity than the Christ of the fourth Gospel. What the Epigones of liberal theology think they can distil from this Synoptic Christ as historical essence has historical value only as a monument of masterly sophistry, which has produced its finest examples in the name of theological science." [405] Historical research should not have so long set apart from all other history that of early Christianity as the special domain of theology and handed it over to churchmen, as if for the decision of the questions on this point quite special talent was necessary--a talent far beyond the ordinary sphere of science and one which was only possessed by the Church theologian. The world would then long since have done with the whole literature of the "Life of Jesus." The sources which give information of the origin of Christianity are of such a kind that, considering the present standard of historical research, no historian would care to undertake an attempt to produce the biography of an historical Christ. [406] They are, we can add, of such a nature that a real historian, who meets them without a previous conviction or expectation that he will find an historical Jesus in it, cannot for a moment doubt that he has here to do with religious fiction, [407] with myth in an historical form, which does not essentially differ from other myths and legends--such as perhaps the legend of Tell. Supplement: Jesus in Secular Literature. There seems to be but little hope of considerably adding to the weight of the reasons in favour of the historical existence of Jesus by citing documents of secular literature. As is well known, only two passages of the Jewish historian Josephus, and one in each of the Roman historians, Tacitus and Suetonius, must be considered in this connection. As for the testimony of Josephus in his "Antiquities," which was written 93 A.D., the first passage (viz., xviii. 3, 3) is so evidently an after-insertion of a later age, that even Roman Catholic theologians do not venture to declare it authentic, though they always attempt, with pitiful naïveté, to support the credibility of pre-Christian documents of this type. [408] But the other passage, too (xx. 9, 1), which states that James was executed under the authority of the priest Ananos (A.D. 62), and refers to him as "the Brother of Jesus, the so-called Christ," in the opinion of eminent theologians such as Credner, [409] Schürer, [410] &c., must be regarded as a forgery; [411] but even if its authenticity were established it would still prove nothing in favour of the historical Jesus. For, first, it leaves it undecided whether a bodily relationship is indicated by the word "Brother," or whether, as is much more likely, the reference is merely to a religious brotherhood (see above, 170 sq.). Secondly, the passage only asserts that there was a man of the name of Jesus who was called Christ, and this is in no way extraordinary in view of the fact that at the time of Josephus, and far into the second century, many gave themselves out as the expected Messiah. [412] The Roman historians' testimony is in no better case than that of Josephus. It is true that Tacitus writes in his "Annals" (xv. 44), in connection with the persecution of the Christians under Nero (64), that "the founder of this sect, Christ, was executed in Tiberius' reign by the procurator Pontius Pilate"; and Suetonius states in his biography of the Emperor Claudius, chap. xxv., that he "drove out of Rome the Jews, who had caused great disturbances at the instigation of Chrestus." What does this prove? Are we so certain that the passage cited from Tacitus as to the persecution of the Christians under Nero is not after all a later insertion and falsification of the original text? This is indeed the case, judging from Hochart's splendid and exhaustive inquiry. In fact, everything points to the idea that the "first persecution of the Christians," which is previously mentioned by no writers, either Jewish or heathen, is nothing but the product of a Christian's imagination in the fifth century. [413] But let us admit the authenticity of Tacitus' assertion; let us suppose also that by Suetonius' Chrestus is really meant Christ and not a popular Jewish rioter of that name; let us suppose that the unrest of the Jews was not connected with the expectation of the Messiah, or that the Roman historian, in his ignorance of the Jewish dreams of the future, did not imagine a leader of the name of Chrestus. [414] Can writers of the first quarter of the second century after Christ, at which time the tradition was already formed and Christianity had made its appearance in History as a power, be regarded as independent authorities for facts which are supposed to have taken place long before the birth of the Tradition? Tacitus can at most have heard that the Christians were followers of a Christ who was supposed to have been executed under Pontius Pilate. That was probably even at that time in the Gospels--and need not, therefore, be a real fact of history. And if it has been proved, according to Mommsen, that Tacitus took his material from the protocols of the Senate and imperial archives, there has equally been, on the other hand, a most definite counter-assertion that he never consulted these authorities. [415] Lately, Tacitus proving to be slightly inconsistent, it has been usual to refer to Pliny's letter to the Emperor Trajan, asserting that the historical Jesus is certified to in this. The letter hinges on the question of what Pliny's attitude as Governor of Bithynia must be to the Christians; so that naturally the Christians are much spoken of, and once even there is mention of Christ, whose followers sing alternate hymns to him "as to a God" (quasi deo). But Jesus as an historical person is not once mentioned in the whole letter; and Christ was even for Paul a "Quasi-god," a being fluctuating between man and God. What then is proved by the letter of Pliny as to the historical nature of Jesus? It only proves the liberal theologians' dilemma over the whole question, that they think they can cite these witnesses again and again for strengthening the belief in an historical Jesus, as, e.g. Melhorn does in his work "Wahrheit und Dichtung im Leben Jesu" (in "Aus Natur und Geisteswelt," 1906), trying to make it appear that these witnesses are in any way worthy of consideration. Joh. Weiss also--according to the newspaper account--in his lecture on Christ in the Berlin vacation-course of March, 1910, confessed that "statements from secular literature as to the historical nature of Jesus which are absolutely free of objection are very far from having been authenticated." Even an orthodox theologian like Kropatscheck writes in the "Kreuzzeitung" (April 7, 1910): "It is well known that the non-Christian writers in a very striking way ignore the appearing of Christ. The few small notices in Tacitus, Suetonius, &c., are easily enumerated. Though we date our chronology from him, his advent made no impression at all on the great historians of his age. The Talmud gives a hostile caricature of his advent which has no historical value. The Jewish historian, Flavius Josephus, from whom we might have expected information of the first rank, is absolutely silent. We are referred to our Gospels, as Paul also says little of the life of Jesus; and we can understand how it is that attempts are always being made to remove him, as an historical person, from the past." The objection to this, that the secular writers, even though they give no positive testimony for Jesus' historical existence, have never brought it in question, is of very little strength. For the writings considered in it, viz., Justin's conversation with the Jew Trypho, as well as the polemical work of Celsus against Christianity, both belong to the latter half of the second century, while the passages in the Talmud referred to are probably of a later date, and all these passages are merely based on the tradition. So that this "proof from silence" is in reality no proof. It is, rather, necessary to explain why the whole of the first century, apart from the Gospels, seems to know nothing of Jesus as an historical personality. The Frenchman Hochart ridicules the theological attitude: "It seems that the most distinguished men lose a part of their brilliant character in the study of martyrology. Let us leave it to German theologians to study history in their way. We Frenchmen wish throughout our inquiries to preserve our clearness of mind and healthy common-sense. Let us not invent new legends about Nero: there are really too many already." [416] (b) The Objections against a Denial of the Historicity of the Synoptic Jesus. There the matter ends: we know nothing of Jesus, of an historical personality of that name to whom the events and speeches recorded in the Gospels refer. "In default of any historical certainty the name of Jesus has become for Protestant theology an empty vessel, into which that theology pours the content of its own meditations." [417] And if there is any excuse for this, it is that that name has never at any time been anything but such an empty vessel: Jesus, the Christ, the Deliverer, Saviour, Physician of oppressed souls, has been from first to last a figure borrowed from myth, to whom the desire for redemption and the naïve faith of the Western Asiatic peoples have transferred all their conceptions of the soul's welfare. The "history" of this Jesus in its general characteristics had been determined even before the evangelical Jesus. Even Weinel, one of the most zealous and enthusiastic adherents of the modern Jesus-worship, confesses that "Christology was almost completed before Jesus came on earth." [418] It was not, however, merely the general frame and outlines of the "history" of Jesus which had been determined in the Messiah-faith, in the idea of a divine spirit sent from God, of the "Son of Man" of Daniel and the Jewish Apocalyptics, &c., not merely that this vague idea was filled out with new content through the Redeemer-worship of the neighbouring heathen peoples. Besides this, many of the individual traits of the Jesus-figure were present, some in heathen mythology, some in the Old Testament; and they were taken thence and worked into the evangelical representation. There is, for instance, the story of the twelve-year old Jesus in the Temple. "Who would have invented this story?" asks Jeremias. "Nevertheless," he thinks it "probable" that in this Luke was thinking of Philo's description of the life of Moses; he calls to mind that Plutarch gives us a quite similar statement concerning Alexander, whose life was consciously decorated with all the traits of the Oriental King-redeemer. [419] Perhaps, however, the account comes from a Buddhist origin. The account of the temptation of Jesus also sounds very much like the temptation of Buddha, so far as it is not derived from the temptation of Zarathustra by Ahriman [420] or the temptation of Moses by the devil, of which the Rabbis told, [421] while Jesus is said to have entered upon his ministry in his thirtieth year, [422] because at that age the Levite was fitted for his sacred office. [423] Till then (i.e., till his baptism) we learn nothing of Jesus' life. Similarly Isa. liii. 2, jumps from the early youth of the Servant of God ("He grew up as a tender plant, as a root out of a dry ground: he hath no form nor comeliness, is despised and rejected of men") straight to his passion and death; while the Gospels attempt to fill in the interval from Jesus' baptism up to his passion by painting in further so-called Messianic passages from the Old Testament and Words of Jesus. We know how the early Christians liked to rediscover their faith in the Scriptures and see it predicted, and with what zeal they consequently studied the Old Testament and altered the "history" of their Jesus to make it agree with those predictions, thus rendering it valuable as corroboration of their own notions. In this connection it has been shown above how the "ride of the beardless one" influenced the collection of the tribute and his direct attack on the shopkeepers and money-changers in the evangelical account of Jesus' advent to the Temple at Jerusalem. [424] But the more detailed development of this scene is determined by Zech. ix. 9, Mal. iii. 1-3, and Isa. i. 10 sqq., and the words placed in Jesus' mouth on this occasion are taken from Isa. lvi. 7 and Jer. vii. 1 sqq., so that this "most important" event in Jesus' life can lay no claim to historical actuality. [425] And again the account of the betrayal, of the thirty pieces of silver, and of Judas' death, have their source in the Old Testament, viz., in the betrayal and death of Ahitophel. [426] To what extent in particular the figures of Moses, with reference to Deut. xviii. 15 and xxxiv. 10, of Joshua, of Elijah and Elisha, influenced the portrayal of the evangelical Jesus has also been traced even by the theological party. [427] Jesus has to begin his activities through baptism in the Jordan, because Moses had begun his leadership of Israel with the passage through the Red Sea and Joshua at the time of the Passover led the people through the Jordan, and this passage (of the sun through the watery regions of the sky) was regarded as baptism. [428] He has to walk on the water, even as Moses, Joshua, and Elias walked dryshod through the water. He has to awaken the dead, like Elijah; [429] to surround himself with twelve or seventy disciples and apostles, just as Moses had surrounded himself with twelve chiefs of the people and seventy elders, and as Joshua had chosen twelve assistants at the passage of the Jordan; [430] he has to be transfigured, [431] and to ascend into heaven like Moses [432] and Elijah. [433] Elijah (Eli-scha) and Jeho-schua (Joshua, Jesus) agree even in their names, so that on this ground alone it would not have been strange if the Prophet of the Old Testament had served as prototype of his evangelical namesake. [434] Now Jesus places himself in many ways above the Mosaic Law, especially above the commands as to food, [435] and in this at least one might find a trait answering to reality. But in the Rabbinical writings we find: "It is written, [436] the Lord sets loose that which is bound; for every creature that passes as unclean in this world, the Lord will pronounce clean in the next." [437] So that similarly the disposition of the Law belongs to the general characteristics of the Messiah, and cannot be historical of Jesus, because if it were the attitude of the Jewish Christians to Paul on account of his disposition of the Law would be incomprehensible. [438] The contrary attitude, which is likewise represented by Jesus, [439] was already foreseen in the Messianic expectation. For while some hoped for a lightening and amendment of the Law by the Messiah, others thought of its aggravation and completion. In Micah iv. 5 the Messiah was to exert his activity, not merely among the Jews, but also among the Gentiles, and the welfare of the kingdom of the Messiah was to extend also to the latter. According to Isaiah lx. and Zechariah xiv., on the contrary, the Gentiles were to be subjected and brought to nothing, and only the Jews were worthy of participation in the kingdom of God. For that reason Jesus had to declare himself with like determination for both conceptions, [440] without any attempt being made to reconcile the contradiction contained in this. [441] That the parents of Jesus were called Joseph and Mary, and that his father was a "carpenter," were determined by tradition, just as the name of his birthplace, Nazareth, was occasioned by the name of a sect (Nazaraios = Protector), or by the fact that one sect honoured the Messiah as a "branch of the root of Jesse" (nazar Isai). [442] It was a Messianic tradition that he began his activity in Galilee and wandered about as Physician, Saviour, Redeemer, and Prophet, as mediator of the union of Israel, and as one who brought light to the Gentiles, not as an impetuous oppressor full of inconsiderate strength, but as one who assumed a loving tenderness for the weak and despairing. [443] He heals the sick, comforts the afflicted, and proclaims to the poor the Gospel of the nearness of the kingdom of God. That is connected with the wandering of the sun through the twelve Signs of the Zodiac (Galil = circle), and is based on Isa. xxxv. 5 sqq., xlii. 1-7, xlix. 9 sqq., as well as on Isa. lxi. 1, a passage which Jesus himself, according to Luke iv. 16 sqq., began his teaching in Nazareth by explaining. [444] He had to meet with opposition in his work of salvation, and nevertheless endure patiently, because of Isa. 1. 5. Naturally Jesus, behind whose human nature was concealed a God, and to whom the pilgrim "Saviour" Jason corresponded, [445] was obliged to reveal his true nature by miraculous healing, and could not take a subordinate place in this regard among the cognate heathen God-redeemers. At most we may wonder that even in this the Old Testament had to stand [446] as a model, and that Jesus' doings never surpass those which the heathens praise in their gods and heroes, e.g., Asclepius. Indeed, according to Tacitus [447] even the Emperor Vespasian accomplished such miracles at Alexandria, where, on being persistently pressed by the people, he healed both a lame man and a blind, and this almost in the same way as Jesus did, by moistening their eyes and cheeks with spittle; which information is corroborated also by Suetonius [448] and Dio Cassius. [449] But the most marvellous thing is that the miracles of Jesus have been found worth mentioning by the critical theology, and that there is an earnest search for an "historical nucleus," which might probably "underlie them." All the individual characteristics cited above are, however, unimportant in comparison with the account of the Last Supper, of the Passion, death (on the cross), and resurrection of Jesus. And yet what is given us on these points is quite certainly unhistorical; these parts of the Gospels owe their origin, as we have stated, merely to cult-symbolism and to the myth of the dying and rising divine Saviour of the Western Asiatic religions. No "genius" was necessary for their invention, as everything was given: the derision, [450] the flagellation, both the thieves, the crying out on the cross, the sponge with vinegar (Psa. lxix. 22), the piercing with a lance, [451] the soldiers casting dice for the dead man's garments, also the women at the place of execution and at the grave, the grave in a rock, are found in just the same form in the worship of Adonis, Attis, Mithras, and Osiris. Even the Saviour carrying his cross is copied from Hercules (Simon of Cyrene), [452] bearing the pillars crosswise, as well as from the story of Isaac, who carried his own wood to the altar on which he was to be sacrificed. [453] But where the authors of the Gospels have really found something new, e.g., in the account of Jesus' trial, of the Roman and Jewish procedure, they have worked it out in such an ignorant way, and to one who knows something about it betray so significantly the purely fictitious nature of their account, that here really there is nothing to wonder at except perhaps the naïveté of those who still consider that account historical, and pique themselves a little on their "historical exactness" and "scientific method." [454] Is not Robertson perhaps right after all in considering the whole statement of the last fate of Jesus to be the rewriting of a dramatic Mystery-play, which among the Gentile Christians of the larger cities followed the sacramental meal on Easter Day? We know what a great rôle was played by dramatic representations in numerous cults of antiquity, and how they came into especial use in connection with the veneration of the suffering and rising God-redeemers. Thus in Egypt the passion, death, and resurrection of Osiris and the birth of Horus; at Eleusis the searching and lamentation of Demeter for her lost Persephone and the birth of Iacchus; at Lernæ in Argolis and many other places the fate of Dionysus (Zagreus); in Sicyon the suffering of Adrastos, who threw himself on to the funeral pyre of his father Hercules; at Amyclæ the passing away of Nature and its new life in the fate of Hyacinth: these were celebrated in festal pageants and scenic representations, to say nothing of the feasts of the death and resurrection of Mithras, Attis, and Adonis. Certainly Matthew's account, xx.-xxviii. (with the exception of verses 11-15 in the last chapter), with its connected sequence of events, which could not possibly have actually followed each other like this--Supper, Gethsemane, betrayal, passion, Peter's denial, the crucifixion, burial, and resurrection--throughout gives one the impression of a chain of isolated dramatic scenes. And the close of the Gospel agrees very well with this conception, for the parting words and exhortations of Jesus to his people are a very suitable ending to a drama. [455] If we allow this, an explanation is given of the "clearness" which is so generally praised in the style of the Gospels by the theologians and their following, and which many think sufficient by itself to prove the historical nature of the Synoptic representation of Jesus. Of course, Wrede has already warned us "not too hastily to consider clearness a sign of historical truth. A writing may have a very secondary, even apocryphal character, and yet show much clearness. The question always is how this was obtained." [456] Wernle and Wrede quite agree that at least in Mark's production the clearness is of no account at all, while clearness in the other Gospels is found just in those parts which admittedly belong to the sphere of legend. And how clearly and concretely do not our authors of the various "Lives of Jesus," not to mention Renan, or our ministers in the pulpits describe the events of the Gospels, with how many small and attractive traits do they not decorate these events, in order that they should have a greater effect on their listeners! This kind of clearness and personal stamp is really nothing but a matter of the literary skill and imagination of the authors in question. The writings of the Old Testament, and not merely the historical writings, are also full of a most clear ability for narration and of most individual characteristics, which prove how much the Rabbinical writers in Palestine knew of this side of literary activity. Or is anything wanting to the clearness and individual characterisation, to which Kalthoff also has alluded, of the touching story of Ruth; of the picture of the prophet Jonah, of Judith, Esther, Job, &c? And then the stories of the patriarchs--the pious Abraham, the good-natured, narrow-minded Esau, the cunning Jacob, and their respective wives--or, to take one case, how clear is not the meeting of Abraham's servant with Rebecca at the well! [457] Or let us consider Moses, Elijah, Samson--great figures who in their most essential traits demonstrably belong to myth and religious fable! If in preaching our ministers can go so vividly into the details of the story of the Saviour that fountains of poetry are opened and there stream forth from their lips clear accounts of Jesus' goodness of heart, of his heroic greatness, and of his readiness for the sacrifice, how much more would this have been so at first in the Christian community, when the new religion was still in its youth, when the faith in the Messiah was as yet unweakened by sceptical doubts, and when the heart of man was still filled with the desire for immediate and final redemption? And even if we are confronted with a host of minor traits, which cannot so easily be accounted for by religious motives and poetic imagination, must these all refer to the same real personality? May they not be based on events which are very far from being necessarily experiences of the liberal theology's historical Jesus? Even Edward v. Hartmann, who is generally content to adhere to the historical Jesus, suggests the possibility "that several historical personages, who lived at quite different times, have contributed concrete individual characteristics to the picture of Jesus." [458] There is a great deal of talk about the "uninventable" in the evangelical representation. Von Soden even goes so far as to base his chief proof for the historical existence of Jesus on this individuality that cannot be invented. [459] As if there was any such thing as what cannot be invented for men with imagination! And as if all the significant details of Jesus' life were not invented on the lines of the so-called Messianic passages in the Old Testament, in heathen mythology, and in the imported conceptions of the Messiah! The part that is professedly "uninventable" shrinks continuously the more assiduously criticism busies itself with the Gospels; and the word can at present apply only to side-issues and matters of no importance. We are indeed faced with the strange fact, that all the essential part of the Gospels, everything which is of importance for religious faith, such as especially the passion, death, and resurrection of Jesus, is demonstrably invented and mythical; but such parts as can at best only be historical because of their supposed "uninventable" nature are of no importance for the character of the Gospel representation! Now, it has been shown that the Gospel picture of Jesus is not without deficiencies. We may see a proof [460] of the historical nature of the events referred to in small traits, as, for example, in Jesus' temporary inability to perform miracles, [461] the circumstance that he is not represented as omniscient, [462] the attitude of his relatives to him. [463] So the theologian Schmiedel set up first five and then nine passages as "clearly credible," and pronounced these to be the basis of a really scientific knowledge of Jesus. The passages are Mark x. 17 sqq. (Why callest thou me good?), Matt. xii. 31 sqq. (The sin against the Holy Ghost shall not be forgiven), Mark iii. 21 (He is beside himself), Mark xiii. 32 (But the day and the hour is known to no man), Mark xv. 24 (My God, why has thou forsaken me?), Mark vi. 5 (And he could there do no mighty work), Mark viii. 12 (There shall no sign be given unto this generation), Mark viii. 14-21 (Reproaching the disciples on the occasion of the lack of bread), Matt. xi. 5 (The blind see, the lame walk). All these "bases" evidently have a firm support only on the supposition that the Gospels are meant to paint a stainless ideal, a God, that they are at most but a conception, such, perhaps, as has been set up by Bruno Bauer. But they are useless from the point of view intended, as portraying a man. If, however, the Evangelists' intention was to paint the celestial Christ of the Apostle Paul, the God-man, the abstract spirit-being, as a completely real man for the eyes of the faithful, to place him on the ground of historical reality, and so to treat seriously Paul's "idea" of humanity, they were obliged to give him also human characteristics. And these could be either invented afresh or taken from the actual life of honoured teachers, in which the fact is acknowledged that, even for the noblest and best of men, there are hours of despair and grief, that the prophet is worth nothing in his own fatherland, or is even unknown to his nearest relatives. Even the prophet Elijah, the Old Testament precursor of the Messiah, who has in many ways determined the picture of Jesus, is said to have had moments of despair in which he wanted to die, till God strengthened him anew to the fulfilment of his vocation. [464] Moreover, Mark x. 17 was a commonplace in all ancient philosophy from the time of Plato, and gained that form by an alteration of the original text (A. Pott, "Der Text des Neuen Testaments nach seiner gesch. Entwicklung" in "Aus Natur und Geisteswelt," 1906, p. 63, sq.); Mark xiv. 24 is taken from the 22nd Psalm, which has also in other respects determined the details of the account of the crucifixion. Mark iii. 21 is, as Schleiermacher showed and Strauss corroborated, a pure invention of the Evangelist, the words of the Pharisees being put into their mouths, as their opinion, in order to explain Jesus' answer by the assertion of his kinship (Strauss, "Leben Jesu," i. 692; cf. also Psa. lix. 1: "I am become a stranger unto my brethren, and an alien unto my mother's children"). Matt. xi. 5 is based on Isaiah xxxv. 5, xlii. 7, xlix. 9, lxi. 1, which runs in the Septuagint: "The spirit of the Lord is upon me; because the Lord hath anointed me to preach good tidings unto the poor; he hath sent me to bind up the broken-hearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives, and to the blind the opening of their eyes; to proclaim the acceptable year of the Lord, and the day of vengeance of our God; to comfort all that mourn." [465] Schmiedel's nine "bases" consequently are at most testimony to a "lost glory"; but the construction of a "really scientific" life of Jesus cannot possibly arise from them. [466] Clearness of exposition, then, can never afford a proof of the historical nature of the matter concerned. And how easily is not this clearness imported by us into the evangelical information! We are brought up in the atmosphere of these tales, and carry about with us, under the influence of the surrounding Christianity, an imaginary picture of them, which we unwittingly introduce into our reading of the Gospels. And how subjective and dependent on the reader's "taste" the impression of clearness given by the Gospel picture of Jesus is, to what a great extent personal predilections come in, is evidenced by this fact, that a Vollers could not discover in the Gospels any real man of flesh and blood, but only a "shadowy image," which he analysed into a thaumaturgical (the miracle-worker) and a soteriological (the Saviour) part. [467] In opposition to the efforts of the historical theology to give Jesus a "unique" position above that of all other founders of religions, Vollers justly remarks how difficult it must be for the purely historical treatment to recognise these and similar assertions. "The improbability, not to say impossibility, of the soteriological picture is too obvious. At bottom this picture of critical theology is nothing but the contemporary transformation of Schleiermacher's ideal man; what must have a hundred years ago appeared comprehensible as the product of a refined Moravianism, in the atmosphere of Fichte, Schelling, and Hegel, is nowadays a mere avoidance of an open and honourable analysis from the point of view that prevails outside of theology, and is principally known in the spheres of Nature and of History. Who would deny that the tone of the catechism and of the pulpit, that full-sounding words of many meanings, even the concealment and glossing over of unpleasant admissions, play a part in this sphere such as they could never have in in any other science?" We are then reduced to the individual maxims and sermons of Jesus. These must be proved to be intelligible only as the personal experiences and thoughts of one supreme individual. Unfortunately just this, as has already been proved, seems peculiarly doubtful. As for Jesus' sermons, we have already understood from Wernle that they were in any case not received from Jesus in the form in which they have been handed down to us, but were subsequently compiled by the Evangelists from isolated and occasional maxims of his. [468] These single phrases and occasional utterances of Jesus are supposed to have been taken in the last resort partly from oral tradition, partly from the Aramaic collection--that "great source" of Wernle's--which was translated into Greek by the Gospels. The existence of this source has been established only very indirectly, and we know absolutely nothing more of it. But it is self-evident that even in the translation from one language into another much of the originality of those "words of the Lord" must have been lost; and, as may be shown, the different Evangelists have "translated" the same words quite differently. Whether it will be possible to reconstruct the original work, as critical theology is striving to do, from the material before us, seems very questionable. And we are given no guarantee that we have to do with actual "words of the Lord" as they were contained in the Aramaic collection. Even if the Evangelist is supposed to have expressed the original meaning, what is to assure us that this phrase was spoken by Jesus just in this way, and not in other connections, if even the phrases were taken down as soon as uttered? But this is admittedly supposed not to have occurred till after Jesus' death, after his Messianic significance was clearly recognised, and after people were making efforts to go back in memory to the Master's figure and preserve of his sayings any that were serviceable. Bousset, indeed, in his work, "Was wissen wir von Jesus?"--which was directed against Kalthoff--has referred to the "good Oriental memory of the disciples." All who know the East from personal experience are in tolerable agreement on one point, viz., how little an Oriental is able to repeat what he has heard or experienced in a true and objective fashion. Consequently there are in the East no historical traditions in our sense of the word, but all important events are decorated like a novel, and are changed according to the necessities of the moment. Such maxims, indeed, as "Love your enemies," "To give is more blessed than to receive," "No one but God is good," "Blessed are the poor," "You are the light of the world," "Give to Cæsar that which is Cæsar's," &c., once heard may be "not easily forgotten," as the theological phrase runs. But also they are not of such a kind that the Jesus of liberal theology was necessary for their invention. We need not here take into consideration how many of Jesus' expressions may have been imported into the Gospels from the Mystery drama, with whose existence we must nevertheless reckon, and from which phrases may have been changed into sayings of the "historical" Jesus. Such obscure and high-flown passages as, e.g., Matt. x. 32 sq.; xi. 15-30, xxvi. 64, and xxviii. 18, give one the impression of coming from the mouth of God's representative on the stage; and this probability is further increased when we meet quite similar expressions, such as of the "light burden" and the "easy yoke," in the Mysteries of Mithras or of Isis. [469] Bousset admits that all the individual words which have been handed down to us as expressions of Jesus are "mediated by the tradition of a community, and have passed through many hands." [470] They are, as Strauss has observed, like pebbles which the waves of tradition have rolled and polished, setting them down here and there and uniting them to this and that mass. "We are," Steck remarks, "absolutely certain of no single word of the Gospels--that it was spoken by Jesus just in this way and in no other." [471] "It would be very difficult," thinks Vollers, "to refer even one expression, one parable, one act of this ideal man to Jesus of Nazareth with historical certainty, let us say with the same certainty with which we attribute the Epistle to the Galatians to the Apostle Paul, or explain the Johannine Logos as the product of Greek philosophy." [472] Even one of the leaders of Protestant orthodoxy, Professor Kähler, of Halle, admitted, as was stated in the "Kirchliche Monatsblatt für Rheinland und Westfalen," in a theological conference held in Dortmund, that we possess "no single authentic word" of Jesus. Any attempt, such as Chamberlain has made, to gather from the tradition a certain nucleus of "words of Jesus," is consequently mistaken; and if nothing is to be a criterion but one's personal feelings, it would be better to confess at once that here there can be no talk of any kind of decision. It is, then, settled that we cannot with certainty trace back to an historical Jesus any single one of the expressions of the "Lord" that have come down to us. Even the oldest authority, the Aramaic collection, may have contained merely the tradition of a community. Can we then think that the supporters of an "historical" Jesus are right in treating it as nothing more than a "crude sin against all historical methods," as something most monstrous and unscientific, if one draws the only possible inference from the result of the criticism of the Gospels, and disputes the existence at any time of an historical Jesus? There may after all have been such a collection of "words of the Lord" in the oldest Christian communities; but must we understand by this words of a definite human individual? May they not rather have been words which had an authoritative and canonical acceptation in the community, being either specially important or congenial to it, and which were for this reason attributed to the "Lord"--that is, to the hero of the association or cult, Jesus? It has been generally agreed that this was the case, for example, with the directions as to action in the case of quarrels among the members of the community [473] and with regard to divorce. [474] Let us also recall to our minds the "words of the Lord" in the other cult-associations of antiquity, the autos epha of the Pythagoreans. And how many particularly popular, impressive, and favourite sayings were current in antiquity bearing the names of one of the "Seven Wise Men," without any one dreaming of ascribing to them an historical signification! How then can it be anything but hasty and uncritical to give out the "words of the Lord" in the collection, which are the basis of Jesus' sermons in the Gospels, as sayings of one definite Rabbi--that is, of the "historical" Jesus? One may have as high an opinion of Jesus' words as one likes: the question is whether Jesus, even the Jesus of liberal theology, is their spiritual father, or whether they are not after all in the same position as the psalms or sayings of the Old Testament which are current in the names of David and Solomon, and of which we know quite positively that their authors were neither the one nor the other. But perhaps those sayings and sermons of Jesus are of such a nature that they could only arise from the "historical Jesus"? Of a great number both of isolated sayings and parables of Jesus--and among these indeed the most beautiful and the most admired, for example, the parable of the good Samaritan, whose moral content coincides with Deut. xxix. 1-4, of the Prodigal Son, [475] of the man that sowed--we know that they were borrowed [476] partly from Jewish philosophy, partly from oral tradition of the Talmud, and partly from other sources. In any case they have no claim to originality. [477] This holds good even of the Sermon on the Mount, which is, as has been shown by Jewish scholars in particular, and as Robertson has once more proved, a mere patchwork taken from ancient Jewish literature, and, together with the Lord's Prayer, contains not a single thought which has not its prototype in the Old Testament and in the ancient philosophical maxims of the Jewish people. [478] Moreover, the remaining portions, whose genesis from any other quarter is at least as yet unproved, is not at all of such a nature that it could only have arisen in the mind of such a personality as the theological Jesus of Nazareth. At bottom, indeed, he neither said nor taught anything beyond the purer morality of contemporary Judaism--to say nothing at all of the Stoics and of the other ethical teachers of antiquity, in particular those of the Indians. The gravest suspicion of their novelty and originality is awakened at the Gospels' emphasising the novelty and significance of Jesus' sayings by "the ancients said"--"but I say unto you"; attempting thereby to make an artificial contradiction with the former spiritual and moral standpoint of Judaism, even in places where only a look at the Old Testament is necessary to convince us that such a contradiction does not exist, as, for example, in the case of the love of God and of one's neighbor. [479] Moreover, our cultivated reverence for Jesus and the overwhelming glorification of everything connected with him has surrounded a great many of the "words of the Lord" with a glitter of importance which stands in no relation to their real value, and which they would never have obtained had they been handed down to us in another connection or under some other name. Let us only think how much that is in itself quite trivial and insignificant has been raised to quite an unjustifiable importance merely through the use of the pulpit and the consecration of divine service. Even though our theologians are not already tired of extolling the "uniqueness," incomparability, and majesty of Jesus' words and parables, they might nevertheless just for once consider how much that is of little worth, how much that is mistaken, spiritually insignificant and morally insufficient, even absolutely doubtful, there is in what Jesus preached. [480] In this connection it has always been the custom to extenuate the tradition by referring to the inexactitude or to fly in the face of any genuine historical method by tortuous elucidations of the passages in question, by unmeaning references to the temporal and educational limitations even of the "superman," and by suppression of the disagreeable parts. How much trouble have not our theologians taken, and do they not even now take, to show even one single point in Jesus' doctrines which may justify their declaring with a good conscience his "uniqueness" in the sense understood by them, and may justify their raising their purely human Jesus as high as possible above his own age! Not one of all the passages quoted to this end has been allowed to remain. The Synoptic Jesus taught neither a new and loftier morality, nor a "new meekness," nor a deepened consciousness of God; neither the "indestructible value of the individual souls of men" in the present-day individualistic sense, nor even freedom as against the Jewish Law, nor the immanence of the kingdom of God, nor anything else, that surpassed the capabilities of another intellectually distinguished man of his age. Even the love, the general love, of one's neighbour, the preaching of which is with the greater portion of the laity the chief claim to veneration possessed by the historical Jesus, in the Synoptics plays no very important part in Jesus' moral conception of life; governing no wider sphere than had already been allowed it in the Old Testament. [481] And if the pulpit eloquence of nineteen hundred years has nevertheless attempted to lay stress on this point, it is because it counts on the faithful not having in mind the difference between the Gospels, and on their peacefully permitting the Gospel of John, the one and only "gospel of love," which, however, is not supposed to be "historical," to be substituted for the Synoptic Gospels. And so we actually see the glorification of Jesus' doctrines which, a short time ago, flourished so luxuriantly, appearing recently in more and more moderate terms. [482] Thus it was for a time customary in theology, under the influence of Holtzmann and Harnack, to consider the ethical deepening and return of God's "fatherly love" as the essentially new and significant point in Jesus' "glad tidings," and to write about it in unctuous phrases. Recently, even this seems to have been abandoned, as, for example, Wrede openly confesses, with respect to the "filiation to God," that this conception existed in Judaism very long before Christ; also that Jesus did not especially preach God as the loving "Father" of each individual, that indeed he did not once place in the foreground the name of God as the Father. [483] But so much the more decidedly is reference made to the "enormous effects" which attended Jesus' appearance, and the attempt is made to prove from them his surpassing greatness, "uniqueness," and historical reality. As if Zarathustra, Buddha, and Mohammed had achieved less, as if the effects which proceed from a person must stand in a certain relation to his human significance, and as if those effects were to be ascribed to the "historical" and not rather to the mythical Jesus--that is, to the idea of the God sacrificing himself for humanity! As a matter of fact, his faith in the immediate proximity of the Messianic kingdom of God, and the demand for a change of life based on this, which is really "unique" in the traditional Jesus, is without any religious and ethical significance for us, and is at most only of interest for the history of civilisation. On the other hand, such part of his teaching as is still of importance to us is not "unique," and only has the reputation of being so because we are accustomed by a theological education to treat it in the light of the Christian dogmatic metaphysics of redemption. Plato, Seneca, Epictetus, Laotse, or Buddha in their ethical views are not behind Jesus with his egoistical pseudo-morals, his basing moral action on the expectation of reward and punishment in the future, his narrow-minded nationalism, which theologians in vain attempt to debate away and to conceal; and his obscure mysticism, which strives to attain a special importance for its maxims by mysterious references to his "heavenly Father." [484] And as for the "great impression" which Jesus is supposed to have made on his own people and on the following age, and without which the history of Christianity is supposed to be inexplicable, Kalthoff has shown with justice that the Gospels do not in any way reflect the impression which a person produced, but only such as the accounts of Jesus' personality would have made on the members of the Christian community. "Even the strongest impression proves nothing as to the historical truth of these accounts. Even an account of a fictitious personage may produce the deepest impression on a community if it is given in historical terms. What an impression Goethe's "Werther" produced, though the whole world knew that it was only a romance! Yet it stirred up countless disciples and imitators." [485] In this we have at the same time a refutation of the popular objection that to deny the historical existence of Jesus is to misunderstand "the significance of personality in the historical life of peoples and religions." Certainly, as Mehlhorn says, active devotion above all is enkindled to persons in whom this personality strikes us in an evident, elevating, and animating way. [486] But in order to enkindle devotion and faith in Jesus Christ the elevating personality of a Paul sufficed, whether or not he was the author of the epistles current in his name; the missionary activity of apostles, working, like him, in the service of the Jesus-creed, was enough, since they moved from place to place, and, often undergoing great personal sacrifice and privation, with danger to their own lives demanded adoration of the new God. Those in need of redemption could never find any real religious support outside of the faith in a divine redeemer, they could never find satisfaction and deliverance but in the idea of the God sacrificing himself for mankind--the God whose redeeming power and whose distinct superiority to the other Mystery-deities the apostles could portray in such a lively and striking fashion. That an idea can only be effective and fruitful by means of a great personality is a barren formula. [487] In thinking they can with this argument support their faith in an historical Jesus liberal theologians avail themselves of an irrelevant bit of modern street-philosophy without noticing that in their case it proves nothing at all. Where, then, is the "great personality" which gave to Mithraism such an efficacy that in the first century of our era it was able to conquer from the East almost the whole of the West and to make it doubtful for a time whether the world was to be Mithraic or Christian? In such influential religions as those of Dionysus and Osiris, or indeed in Brahmanism, we cannot speak of great personalities as their "founders"; and as for Zarathustra, the pretended founder of the Persian, and Moses, the founder of the Israelite religion, they are not historical persons; while the views of different investigators differ as to the historical existence of the reputed founder of Buddhism. Of course, even in the above-mentioned religions the particular ideas would have been brought forward by brilliant individuals, and the movements depending on them would have been first organised and rendered effective by men of energy and purpose. But the question is whether persons of this type are necessarily "great," even "unique," in the sense of liberal theology, in order to be successful. So that to set aside Paul, whose inspiring personality gifted with a genius for organisation we know from his epistles,--to set him aside in favour of an imaginary Jesus, to base the importance of the Christian religion on the "uniqueness" of its supposed founder, and to base this uniqueness in turn on the importance of the religious movement which resulted from it, is to abandon the critical standpoint and to turn about in circles. "It is an empty assertion," says Lützelberger, "without any real foundation, that the invention of such a person as the Gospels give us in their Jesus would have been quite impossible, as we find in him such a peculiar and sharply defined character that imagination would never have been able to invent and adhere to it. For the personality which meets us in the Gospels is by no means one that is sharply drawn and true to itself; but the story shows us rather a man who from quite different mental tendencies spoke now one way and now another, and is perfectly different in the first and fourth Gospels. Only with the greatest trouble can a homogeneous and coherent whole be formed from the descriptions in the Gospels. So that we are absolutely wrong in concluding from the originality of the person of Christ in the Gospels to their historical credibility." The conclusion is much more justifiable that if such a person with such a life-history and such speech had stood at the beginning of the Christian Church, the history of its development must have been quite a different one, just as the history of Judaism would have been different if a Moses with his Law had stood at its head. [488] And now if we compare the praises of Buddha in the Lalita Vistara with the description of Jesus' personality given in the New Testament, we will be convinced how similarly--even if we exclude the hypothesis of a direct influence--and under what like conditions the kindred religion took shape: "In the world of creatures, which was long afflicted by the evils of natural corruption, thou didst appear, O king of physicians, who redeemest us from all evil. At thy approach, O guide, unrest disappears, and gods and men are filled with health. Thou art the protector, the firm foundation, the chief, the leader of the world, with thy gentle and benevolent disposition. Thou art the best of physicians, who bringest the perfect means of salvation and healest suffering. Distinguished by thy compassion and sympathy, thou governest the things of the world. Distinguished by thy strength of mind and good works, completely pure, thou hast attained to perfection, and, thyself redeemed, thou wilt, as the prophet of the four truths, redeem other creatures also. The power of the Evil One has been overcome by wisdom, courage, and humility. Thou hast brought it about,--the highest and immortal glory. We greet thee as the conqueror of the army of the Deceiver. Thou whose word is without fault, who freest from error and passion, hast trod the path of eternal life; thou dost deserve in heaven and on earth honour and homage unparalleled. Thou quickenest Gods and men with thy clear words. By the beams which go forth from thee thou art the conqueror of this universe, the Master of Gods and men. Thou didst appear, Light of the Law, destroyer of misery and ignorance, completely filled with humility and majesty. Sun, moon, and fires no longer shine before thee and thy fulness of imperishable glory. Thou who teachest us to know truth from falsehood, ghostly leader with the sweetest voice, whose spirit is calm, whose passions are controlled, whose heart is perfectly at rest, who teachest what should be taught, who bringest about the union of gods and men: I greet thee, Sakhyamuni, as the greatest of men, as the wonder of the three thousand worlds, who deservest honour and homage in heaven and on earth, from Gods and men!" Where, then, is the "uniqueness" of Jesus, into which the future divinity of the World-redeemer has disappeared for modern critical theology, and into which it has striven to import all the sentimental considerations which once belonged to the "God-man" in the sense of the Church dogma? "Nothing is more negative than the result of the inquiry into the life of Jesus. The Jesus of Nazareth, who appeared as the Messiah, who proclaimed the morals of the kingdom of God, who founded the kingdom of heaven upon earth, and died to give consecration to his acts, never existed. He is a figure which was invented by Rationalism, restored by Liberalism, and painted over with historical science by modern theologians." With these words of the theologian Schweitzer [489] the present inquiry may be said to agree. In fact, in the Gospels we have nothing but the expression of the consciousness of a community. In this respect the view supported by Kalthoff is completely right. The life of Jesus, as portrayed by the Synoptics, merely brings to an expression in historical garb the metaphysical ideas, religious hopes, the outer and inner experiences of the community which had Jesus for its cult-god. His opinions, statements, and parables only reflect the religious-moral conceptions, the temporary sentiments, the casting down and the joy of victory, the hate and the love, the judgments and prejudices of the members of the community, and the differences and contradictions in the Gospels prove to be the developing material of the conception of the Messiah in different communities and at different times. Christ takes just the same position in the religious-social brotherhoods which are named after him as Attis has in the Phrygian, Adonis in the Syrian, Osiris in the Egyptian, Dionysus, Hercules, Hermes, Asclepius, &c., in the Greek cult-associations. He is but another form of these club-gods or patrons of communities, and the cult devoted to him shows in essentials the same forms as those devoted to the divinities above named. The place of the bloody expiatory sacrifice of the believers in Attis, wherein they underwent "baptism of blood" in their yearly March festival, and wherein they obtained the forgiveness of their sins and were "born again" to a new life, was in Rome the Hill of the Vatican. In fact, the very spot on which in Christian times the Church of Peter grew above the so-called grave of the apostle. It was at bottom merely an alteration of the name, not of the matter, when the High Priest of Attis blended his rôle with that of the High Priest of Christ, and the Christ-cult spread itself from this new point far over the other parts of the Roman Empire. (c) The True Character of the Synoptic Jesus. The Synoptic Gospels leave open the question whether they treat of a man made God or of a God made man. The foregoing account has shown that the Jesus of the Gospels is to be understood only as a God made man. The story of his life, as presented in the Gospels, is the rendering into history of a primitive religious myth. Most of the great heroes of the legend, which passes as historical, are similar incarnate Gods--such as Jason, Hercules, Achilles, Theseus, Perseus, Siegfried, &c.; in these we have nothing but the old Aryan sun--champion in the struggle against the powers of darkness and of death. That primitive Gods in the view of a later age should become men, without, however, ceasing to be clothed with the glamour of the deity, is to such an extent the ordinary process, that the reverse, the elevation of men to Gods, is as a rule only found in the earliest stages of human civilisation, or in periods of moral and social decay, when fawning servility and worthless flattery fashion a prominent man, either during his life or after his death, into a divine being. Even the so-called "Bible Story" contains numerous examples of such God made men: the patriarchs, Joseph, Joshua, Samson, Esther, Mordecai, Haman, Simon Magus, the magician Elymas, &c., were originally pure Gods, and in the description of their lives old Semitic star-myths and sun-myths obtained a historical garb. If we cannot doubt that Moses, the founder of the old covenant, was a fictitious figure, and that his "history" was invented by the priests at Jerusalem only for the purpose of sanctioning and basing on his authority the law of the priests named after him; if for this end the whole history of Israel was falsified, and the final event in the religious development of Israel, i.e., the giving of the Law, was placed at the beginning--why cannot what was possible with Moses have been repeated in the case of Jesus? Why may not also the founder of the new covenant as an historical person belong entirely to pious legend? According to Herodotus, [490] the Greeks also changed an old Phoenician God, Hercules, for national reasons, into a native hero, the son of Amphitryon, and incorporated him in their own sphere of ideas. Let us consider how strong the impulse was, especially among Orientals, to make history of purely internal experiences and ideas. To carry historical matter into the sphere of myth, and to conceive myth as history, is, as is shown by the investigations of Winckler, Schrader, Jensen, &c., for the Orientals such a matter of course, that, as regards the accounts in the Old Testament, it is hardly possible to distinguish their genuinely "historical nucleus" from its quasi-historical covering. And it is more especially the Semitic thought of antiquity which proves to be completely unable to distinguish mythical phantasy from real event! It is, indeed, too often said that the Semite produced and possessed no mythology of his own, as Renan asserted; and no doubt at all is possible that they could not preserve as such and deal with the mythical figures and events whencesoever they derived them, but always tended to translate them into human form and to associate them with definite places and times. "The God of the Semites is associated with place and object, he is a Genius loci," says Winckler. [491] But if ever a myth required to be clothed in the garment of place and the metaphysical ideas contained in it to be separated into a series of historical events, it was certainly the myth of the God sacrificing himself for humanity, who sojourned among men in human form, suffered with the rest of men and died, returning, after victoriously overcoming the dark powers of death, to the divine seat whence he set out. We understand how the God Jesus, consequent on his symbolical unification with the man sacrificed in his stead, could come to be made human, and how on this basis the faith in the resurrection of God in the form of an historical person could arise. But how the reverse process could take place, how the man Jesus could be elevated into a God, or could ever fuse with an already existing God of like name into the divine-human redeemer--indeed, the Deity--that is and remains, as we have already said, a psychological puzzle. The only way to solve it is to refer to the "inscrutable secrets of the Divine will." In what other way can we explain how "that simple child of man, as he has been described," could so very soon after his death be elevated into that "mystical being of imagination," into that "celestial Christ," as he meets us in the epistles of Paul? There can only have been at most seven, probably three, years, according to a recent estimate hardly one year, between the death of Jesus and the commencement of Paul's activity. [492] And this short time is supposed to have sufficed to transform the man Jesus into the Pauline Christ! And not only Paul is supposed to have been able to do this; even Jesus' immediate disciples, who sat with him at the same table, ate and drank with him, knowing then who Jesus was, are supposed to have declared themselves in agreement with this, and to have prayed to him whom they had always seen praying to the "Father"! Certainly in antiquity the deification of a man was nothing extraordinary: Plato and Aristotle were, after their death, honoured by their pupils as god-like beings; Demetrius Poliorcetes, Alexander, the Ptolemies, &c., had divine honours rendered to them even during their lives. But this style of deification is completely different from that which is supposed to have been allotted to Jesus. It is merely an expression of personal gratitude and attachment, of overflowing sentiment and characterless flattery, and never obtained any detailed theological formulation. It was the basis for no new religion. Schopenhauer has very justly pointed out the contradiction between Paul's apotheosis of Jesus and usual historical experience, and remarked that from this consideration could be drawn an argument against the authenticity of the Pauline epistles. [493] In fact, Holtzmann considers, with reference to this assertion of the philosopher's, the question "whether the figure of Jesus attaining such colossal dimensions in Paul's sight may not be taken to establish the distance between the two as that of only a few years, if there was not immediate temporal contact," as the question "most worthy of discussion, which the critics of the Dutch school have propounded for consideration." [494] According to the prevalent view of critical theologians, as presented even by Pfleiderer, the apparitions of the "Lord," which after Jesus' death were seen by the disciples who had fled from Jerusalem, the "ecstatic visionary experiences, in which they thought they saw their crucified Master living and raised up to heavenly glory," were the occasion of their faith in the resurrection, and consequently of their faith in Jesus' divine rôle as Redeemer. [495] Pathological states of over-excited men and hysterical women are then supposed to form the "historical foundation" for the genesis of the Christian religion! And with such opinions they think themselves justified in looking down on the rationalist of the eighteenth-century Enlightenment with supreme contempt, and in boasting of the depth to which their religious-historical insight reaches! But if we really admit, with historical theology, this more than doubtful explanation, which degrades Christianity into the merely chance product of mental excitement, at once the further question arises as to how the new religion of the small community of the Messiah at Jerusalem was able to spread itself abroad with such astounding rapidity that, even so soon as at most two decades after Jesus' death, we meet with Christian communities not only over the whole of Western Asia, but also in the islands of the Mediterranean, in the coast-towns of Greece, even in Italy, at Puteoli, and in Rome; and this at a time when as yet not a line had been written about the Jewish Rabbi. [496] Even the theologian Schweitzer is obliged to confess of historical theology that "until it has in some way explained how it was that, under the influence of the Jewish sect of the Messiah, Greek and Roman popular Christianity appeared at all points simultaneously, it must admit a formal right of existence to all hypotheses, even the most extravagant, which seek to attack and solve this problem." [497] If in all this it is shown to be possible, or even probable, that in the Jesus of the Gospels we have not a deified man, but rather a humanised God, there remains but to find an answer to the question as to what external reasons led to the transplanting of the God Jesus into the soil of historical actuality and the reduction of the eternal or super-historical fact of his redeeming death and of his resurrection into a series of temporal events. This question is answered at once if we turn our attention to the motives present in the earliest Christian communities known to us, which motives appear in the Acts and in the Pauline epistles. From these sources we know at what an early stage an opposition arose between Paul's Gentile Christianity and the Jewish Christianity, the chief seat of which was at Jerusalem, and which for this reason, as we can understand, claimed for itself a special authority. As long as the former persecutor of the Christian community, over whose conversion they could not at first rejoice too much, [498] did not obstruct others and seemed to justify his apostolic activity by his success among the Gentiles, they left him to go his way. But when Paul showed his independence by his reserve before the "Brothers" at Jerusalem, and began to attract the feelings of those at Jerusalem by his abrogation of the Mosaic Law, then they commenced to treat him with suspicion, to place every obstacle in the way of his missionary activity, and to attempt, led by the zealous James, to bring the Pauline communities under their own government. Then, seeking a title for the practice of the apostolic vocation, they found it in this--that every one who wished to testify to Christ must himself have seen him after his resurrection. But Paul could very justly object that to him also the transfigured Jesus had appeared. [499] Then they made the justification for the apostolic vocation consist in this, that an apostle must not only have seen Christ risen up, but must also have eaten and drunk with him. [500] This indeed was not applicable in the case of Judas, who in the Acts i. 16 is nevertheless counted among the apostles; and it was also never asserted of Matthias, who was chosen in the former's stead, that he had been a witness of Jesus' resurrection. Much less even does he seem to have fulfilled the condition to which advance was made in the development of the original idea, i.e., that an apostle of Jesus should have been personally acquainted with the living Jesus, that he should have belonged to the "First Apostles" and have been present as eye-witness and hearer of Jesus' words from the time of John's baptism up to the Resurrection and Ascension. [501] Now Seufert has shown that the passage of the Acts referred to is merely a construction, a transference of later conditions to an earlier epoch; and that the whole point of it is to paralyse Paul's mission to the Gentiles and to establish the title of the Jew-Christians at Jerusalem as higher than that of his followers. If with this purpose, as Seufert showed, the organisation of the Apostleship of Twelve arose--an organisation which has no satisfactory basis or foundation in the Gospels or in the Pauline epistles--then it is from this purpose also that we can find cause for the God Jesus to become a human founder of the apostleship. "An apostle was to be only such an one as had seen and heard Jesus himself, or had learnt from those who had been his immediate disciples. A literature of Judaism arose which had at quite an early stage the closest interest in the historical determination of Jesus' life; and this formed the lowest stratum on which our canonical Gospels are based." [502] Judaism in general, and the form of it at Jerusalem in particular, needed a legal title on which to base its commanding position as contrasted with the Gentile Christianity of Paul; and so its founders were obliged to have been companions of Jesus in person, and to have been selected for their vocation by him. For this reason Jesus could not remain a mere God, but had to be drawn down into historical actuality. Seufert thinks that the tracing of the Apostleship of Twelve back to an "historical" Jesus, and the setting up of the demand for an apostle of Jesus to have been a companion of his journeying, took place in Paul's lifetime in the sixth, or perhaps even in the fifth decade. [503] In this he presupposes the existence of an historical Jesus, while the Pauline epistles themselves contain nothing to lead one to believe that the transformation of the Jesus-faith into history took place in Paul's lifetime. In early Christianity exactly the same incident took place here, on the soil of Palestine and at Jerusalem, as took place later in "eternal" Rome, when the bishop of this city, in order to establish his right of supremacy in the Church, proclaimed himself to be the direct successor of the Apostle Peter, and caused the "possession of the keys" to have been given to this latter by Jesus himself. [504] So that there were very mundane and very practical reasons which after all gave the impulse for the God Jesus to be transformed into an historical individual, and for the central point of his action, the crisis in his life, his death and his resurrection, which alone affected religious considerations, to be placed in the capital of the Jewish state, the "City of God," the Holy City of David, of the "ancestors" of the Messiah, with which now the Jews connected religious salvation. But how could this fiction succeed and maintain its ground, so that it was able to become an absolutely vital question for the new religion, an indestructible dogma, a self-evident "fact," so that its very calling in question seems to the critical theologians of our time a perfect absurdity? Before we can answer this question we must turn our attention to the Gnostic movement and its relations to the growing Church. (d) Gnosticism and the Johannine Jesus. Christianity was originally developed from Gnosticism (Mandaism). The Pauline religion was only one form of the many syncretising efforts to satisfy contemporary humanity's need of redemption by a fusion of religious conceptions derived from different sources. So much the greater was the danger which threatened to spring up on this side of the youthful Church. Gnosticism agreed with Christianity in its pessimistic valuation of the world, in its belief in the inability of man to obtain religious salvation by himself, in the necessity for a divine mediation of "Life." Like Christianity, it expected the deliverance of the oppressed souls of men by a supernatural Redeemer. He came down from Heaven upon earth and assumed a human form, establishing, through a mystic union with himself, the connection between the spheres of heaven and earth. He thereby guarantees to mankind an eternal life in a bliss to come. Gnosticism also involves a completely dualistic philosophy in its opposition of God and world, of spirit and matter, of soul and body, &c.; but all its efforts are directed to overcoming these contradictions by supernatural mediation and magical contrivances. It treats the "Gnosis," the knowledge, the proper insight into the coherence of things, as the necessary condition of redemption. The individual must know that his soul comes from God, that it is only temporarily confined in this prison of the body, and that it is intended for something higher than to be lost here in the obscurity of ignorance, of evil and of sin; so that he is already freed from the trammels of the flesh, and finds a new life for himself. The God-Redeemer descended upon earth to impart this knowledge to mankind; and Gnosticism pledges itself, on the basis of the "revelation" received directly from God, to open to those who strive for the highest knowledge all the heights and depths of Heaven and of earth. This Gnosticism of the first century after Christ was a wonderfully opalescent and intricate structure--half religious speculation, half religion, a mixture of Theosophy, uncritical mythological superstition, and deep religious mysticism. In it Babylonian beliefs as to Gods and stars, Parsee mythology, and Indian doctrines of metempsychosis and Karma were combined with Jewish theology and Mystery-rites of Western Asia; and through the whole blew a breath of Hellenic philosophy, which chiefly strove to fix the fantastic creatures of speculation in a comprehensible form, and to work up the confusion of Oriental licence and extravagance of thought into the form of a philosophical view of the world. The Gnostics also called their mediating deity, as we have already seen of the Mandaic sect of the Nassenes, "Jesus," and indulged in a picture rendering of his pre-worldly existence and supernatural divine majesty. They agreed with the Christians that Jesus had been "human." The extravagant metaphysical conception which they had of Jesus at the same time prevented them from dealing seriously with the idea of his manhood. So that they either maintained that the celestial Christ had attached himself to the man Jesus in a purely external way, and indeed, first on the occasion of the baptism in the Jordan, and only temporarily, i.e., up to the Passion--it being only the "man" Jesus who suffered death (Basilides, Cerinthus); or they thought of Jesus as having assumed merely a ghostly body--and consequently thought that all his human actions took place merely as pure appearance (Saturninus, Valentinus, Marcion). But how little they managed to penetrate into the centre of the Christian doctrine of redemption and to value the fundamental significance of the Christ-figure, is shown by the fact that they thought of Christ merely as one mediator among countless others. It is shown also by the romantic and florid description of the spirits or "æons," who are supposed to travel backwards and forwards between heaven and earth, leading their lives apart. These played a great part in the Gnostic systems. It was a matter of course that the Christian faith had to take exception to such a fantastic and external treatment of the idea of the God-man. The Pauline Christianity was distinct from Gnosticism, with which it was most closely connected, just in this, that it was in earnest with the "manhood" of Jesus. It was still more serious that the Gnostics combined with their extreme dualism an outspokenly anti-Jewish character. For this in the close relationship between Gnosticism and Christianity would necessarily frighten the Jews from the Gospel, and incite only too many against the young religion. But the Jews formed the factor with which early Christianity had first of all to reckon. In addition to this the Gnostics, from the standpoint of their spiritualistic conception of God, turned to contempt of the world and asceticism. They commended sexual continence, rejected marriage, and wished to know nothing either of Christ's or of man's bodily resurrection. But in the West no propaganda of an ascetic religion could succeed. And yet even with the Gnostics, as is so often the case, asceticism only too frequently degenerated into unbridled voluptuousness and libertinage, and the spiritual pride of those chosen by God to knowledge, who were raised above the Mosaic Law, threatened completely to tear apart the connection with Judaism by its radical criticism of the Old Testament. In this Gnosticism not only undermined the moral life of the communities, but also brought the Gospel into discredit in other parts of the world. As an independent religion, which expressly opposed all other worships, and the adherents of which withdrew from the religious practices of the State, even from any political activity whatsoever, Christianity brought on itself the suspicion of the authorities and the hate of the people, and incurred the prohibition of new religions and secret sects (lex Julia majestatis). [505] So that Gnosticism, by taking it from its Jewish native soil, drove Christianity into a conflict with the Roman civil laws. All these dangers, which threatened Christianity from the Gnostic movement, were set aside in one stroke by the recognition of the true "manhood" of Jesus, the assertion of the "historical" Jesus. This preserved the connection, so important for the unhindered spread of Christianity in the Roman Empire, with Judaism and its "revealed" legality--the heteronomous and ritualistic character of which had indeed been shown by Paul, and the moral content of which was nevertheless adhered to by the Christians even later. It was made possible, in default of any previous written documents of revelation, even yet to regard the Old Testament in essentials as the authoritative book of the new faith, and as a preparatory testimony to the final revelation which appeared in Jesus. And most of all, it put a check on Gnostic phantasy, in drawing together the perplexing plurality of the Gnostic æons into the one figure of the World-redeemer and Saviour Christ, in making the chief dogma the redeeming sacrificial death of the Messiah, and in concentrating the religious man's attention on this chief turning-point of all the historical events. This was the reason why the Apologists and "Fathers" of Christianity, Ignatius, Polycarp, Justin, Irenæus, &c., spoke with such decision in favour of the actuality and true manhood of Jesus. It was not perhaps a better historical knowledge which caused them to do this, but the life-instinct of the Church, which knew only too well that its own position and the prosecution of its religious task, in contrast with the excitements of Gnosticism and its seductive attempts to explain the world, was dependent on the belief in an historical Redeemer. So the historical Jesus was from the beginning a dogma, a fiction, caused by the religious and practical social needs, of the growing and struggling Christian Church. This Jesus has, indeed, led it to victory; not, however, as an historical reality, but as an idea; or, in other words, not an historical Jesus, in the proper sense of the word, a really human individual, but the pure idea of such a person, is the patron-saint, the Genius of ecclesiastical Christianity, the man who enabled it to overcome Gnosticism, Mithraism, and the other religions of the Redeemer-Gods of Western Asia. The importance of the fourth Gospel rests in having brought to a final close these efforts of the Church to make history of the Redeemer-figure Christ. Begun under the visible influence of the Gnostic conception of the process of redemption, it meets Gnosticism later as another Gospel; indeed, it seems saturated through and through with the Gnostic attitude and outlook. To a certain degree it shares with Gnosticism its anti-Jewish character. But at the same time it adheres, with the Synoptics, to Jesus' historical activity, and seeks to establish a kind of mediation between the essentially metaphysical conception of the Gnostics and the essentially human conception of the Synoptic Gospels. The author who wrote the Gospel in the name of John, the "favourite disciple of Jesus," probably about 140 A.D., agrees with Gnosticism in its dualistic conception of the universe. On one side is the world, the kingdom of darkness, deceit, and evil, in deadly enmity to the divine kingdom of light, the kingdom of truth and life. At the head of the divine kingdom is God, who is himself Light, Truth, Life, and Spirit--following Parsee thought. At the head of the kingdom of earth is Satan (Angromainyu). In the middle, between them, is placed man. But mankind is also divided, as all the rest of existence, into two essentially different kinds. The souls of the one part of mankind are derived from God, those of the other from Satan. The "children of God" are by nature destined for the good and are fit for redemption. The "children of Satan"--among whom John, in agreement with the Gnostics, counts the Jews before all--are not susceptible of anything divine and are assigned to eternal damnation. In order to accomplish redemption, God, from pure "Love" for the world, selected Monogenes, his only-begotten Son, that is, the only being which, as the child of God, was produced not by other beings, but by God himself. The author of the Gospel fuses Monogenes with the Philonic Logos, who in the Gnostic conception was only one of countless other æons, and was a son of Monogenes, the divine reason, and so only a grandson of God. At the same time, he transfers the whole "pleroma"--the plurality of the æons into which, in the Gnostic conception, the divine reality was divided--to the single principle of the Logos, defines the Logos as the unique bearer of the whole fulness of divine glory, as the pre-existent creator of the world; and calls him also, since he is in essence identical with God his "Father," the source of life, the light, the truth, and the spirit of the universe. And how then does the Logos bring about redemption? He becomes flesh, that is, he assumes the form of the "man" Jesus, without, however, ceasing to be the supernatural Logos, and as such brings to men the "Life" which he himself is, by revealing wisdom and love. As revealer of wisdom he is the "light of the world"; he opens to men the secret of their filial relation to God; he teaches them, by knowing God, to understand themselves and the world; he collects about himself the children of God, who are scattered through the world, in a united and brotherly society; and gives them, in imitating his own personality, the "light of life"--that is, he inwardly enlightens and elevates them. As revealer of love he not only assumes the human form and the renunciation of his divine bliss connected with it, but as a "good shepherd" he lays down his life for his flock; he saves them from the power of Satan, from the terrors of darkness, and sacrifices himself for his people, in order through this highest testimony of his love for men, through the complete surrender of his life, to regain the life which he really is, and to return to his celestial glory. This is the meaning of Christ's work of redemption, that men by faith and love become inwardly united with him and so with God; whereby they gain the "life" in the higher spirit. For though Christ himself may return to God, his spirit still lives on earth. As the "second Paraclete" or agent, the Spirit proceeds with the Saviour's work of redemption, arouses and strengthens the faith in Christ and the love for him and for the Brotherhood, thereby mediating for them the "Life," and leading them after their death into the eternal bliss. In all this the influence of Gnosticism and of the Philonic doctrine of the Logos is unmistakable, and it is very probable that the author of the fourth Gospel was influenced by the recollection, still living at Ephesus, of the Ephesian Heraclitus' Logos, in his attachment to Philo and to the latter's more detailed exposition of the Hellenic Logos-philosophy. But he fundamentally differs from Philo and Gnosticism in his assertion that the Logos "was made flesh," sojourned on earth in the figure of Jesus of Nazareth, and suffered death. It is true, however, that the Evangelist is more persistent in this assertion than successful in delineating a real man, notwithstanding his use of the Synoptic accounts of the personal fate of Jesus. The idea of the divine nature of the Saviour is the one that prevails in his writings. The "historical picture" which came down to him was forcibly rectified, and the personality of Jesus was worked up into something so wonderful, extraordinary, and supernatural that, if we were in possession of the fourth Gospel alone, in all probability the idea would hardly have occurred to any one that it was a treatment of the life-story of an historical individual. And yet in this the difference between the Johannine and the Synoptic Gospels is only a slight one. For the Synoptic Jesus also is not really a man, but a "superman," the original Christian community's God-man, cult-hero, and mediator of salvation. And if it is settled that the quarrel between the Church teachers and the Gnostic heretics hinged, not on the divinity of Christ, in which they agreed, but rather on the kind and degree of his humanity, then this "paradoxical fact" is by itself sufficient to corroborate the assertion that the divinity of the mediator of redemption was the only originally determined and self-evident presupposition of the whole Christian faith; and that, on the contrary, his humanity was doubtful even in the earliest times, and for this reason alone could become a subject of the bitterest strife. Indeed, even the author of the fourth Gospel did not bring about a real fusion between the human person Jesus and the mythological person, the Gnostic Son of God, who with Philo wavered, also in the form of the Logos, between impersonal being and allegorical personality. All the efforts to render comprehensible "the interfusion of the divine and the human in the unity of the personal, its basis (essence) being divine, its appearance a human life of Jesus," are frustrated even with the so-called John by one fact. This fact is that a Logos considered as a person can never be at once a human personality and yet have as its basis and essence a divine personality, but can only be demoniacally possessed by this latter, and can never be this latter itself. And so, as Pfleiderer says, the Johannine Christ wavers throughout "between a sublime truth and a ghostly monstrosity; the former, in so far as he represents the ideal of the Son of God, and so the religion of mankind, separated from all the accidents and limits of individuality and nationality, of space and time--and the latter so far as he is the mythical covering of a God sojourning on earth in human form." [506] It is true that this fusion of the Gnostic Son of God and the Philonic Logos with the Synoptic Jesus first fixed the hazy uncertainty of mythological speculation and abstract thought in the clear form and living individuality of the personal mediator of redemption. It brought this personality nearer to the hearts of the faithful than any other figure of religious belief, and thereby procured for the Christian cult-god Jesus, in his pure humanity, his overflowing goodness and benevolence, such a predominance over his divine competitors, Mithras, Attis, and others, that by the side of Jesus these faded away into empty shadows. The Gnostic ideal man, that is, the Platonic idea, and the moral ideal of man merged in him directly into a unity. The miracle of the union of God and man, over which the ancient world had so hotly and so fruitlessly disputed, seemed to have found its realisation in Christ. Christ was the "Wise man" of the Stoic philosophy, in whom was united for them all that is most honourable in man; more than this, he was the God-man, as he had been preached and demanded by Seneca for the moral elevation of mankind. [507] The world was consequently so ready to receive and so well prepared for his fundamental ideas that we easily see why the Church Christianity took its stand on the human personality of its redeeming principle with almost more decision than on the divine character of Jesus. Nevertheless, in spite of the majesty and sublimity, in spite of the immeasurable significance which the accentuation of the true humanity of Jesus has had for the development of Christianity, it remains true that on the other hand it is just this which is the source of all the insoluble contradictions, of all the insurmountable difficulties from which the Christian view of the world suffers. This is the reason why that great idea, which Christianity brought to the consciousness of the men of the West, and through which it conquered Judaism--the idea of the God-man--was utterly destroyed, and the true content of this religion was obscured, hidden, and misrepresented in such disastrous fashion, that to-day it is no longer possible to assent to its doctrine of redemption without the sacrifice of the intellect. THE RELIGIOUS PROBLEM OF THE PRESENT In the opinion of liberal theologians, not the God but rather the man Jesus forms the valuable religious essence of Christianity. [508] In saying this it says nothing less than that the whole of Christendom up to the present day--that is, till the appearance of a Harnack, Bousset, Wernle, and others of like mind--was in error about itself, and did not recognise its own essence. For Christianity, as the present account shows, from the very first conceived the God Jesus, or rather the God-man, the Incarnate, the God-redeemer, suffering with man and sacrificing himself for humanity, as the central point of its doctrine. The declaration of the real manhood of Jesus appears, on the other hand, but as an after-concession of this religion to outer circumstances, wrung from it only later by its opponents, and so expressly championed by it only because of its forming the unavoidable condition of its permanence in history and of its practical success. Only the God, therefore, not the man Jesus, can be termed the "founder" of the Christian religion. It is in fact the fundamental error of the liberal theology to think that the development of the Christian Church took its rise from an historical individual, from the man Jesus. The view is becoming more common that the original Christian movement under the name of Jesus would have remained an insignificant and transient movement within Judaism but for Paul, who first gave it a religious view of the world by his metaphysics of redemption, and who by his break with the Jewish Law really founded the new religion. It will not be long before the further concession is found necessary, that an historical Jesus, as the Gospels portray him, and as he lives in the minds of the liberal theologians of to-day, never existed at all; so that he never founded the insignificant and diminutive community of the Messiah at Jerusalem. It will be necessary to concede that the Christ-faith arose quite independently of any historical personality known to us; that indeed Jesus was in this sense a product of the religious "social soul" and was made by Paul, with the required amount of reinterpretation and reconstruction, the chief interest of those communities founded by him. The "historical" Jesus is not earlier but later than Paul; and as such he has always existed merely as an idea, as a pious fiction in the minds of members of the community. The New Testament with its four Gospels is not previous to the Church, but the latter is antecedent to them; and the Gospels are the derivatives, consequently forming a support for the propaganda of the Church, and being without any claim to historical significance. Nothing at all, as Kalthoff shows, is to be gained for the understanding of Christianity from the completely modern view that religion is an entirely personal life and experience. Religion is such personal life only in an age which is differentiated into personalities; it is such only in so far as this differentiation has been accomplished. From the very beginning religion makes its appearance as a phenomenon of social life; it is a group-religion, a folk-religion, a State religion; and this social character is naturally transferred to the free associations which are formed within the limits of tribe and the State. The talk about personality as the centre of all religious life is with regard to the origin of Christianity absurd and unhistorical, for the reason that Christianity grew up in religious associations, in communities. From this social religion our personal religion has only been developed in a history lasting centuries. Only after great struggles has personal religion been able to succeed against an essentially older form. What devout people of to-day call Christianity, a religion of the individual, a principle of personal salvation, would have been an offence and an absurdity to the whole of ancient Christendom. It would have been to it the sin against the Holy Ghost which was never to be forgiven; for the Holy Ghost was the spirit of the Church's unity, the connection of the religious community, the spirit of the subordination of the flock to the shepherd. For this reason individual religion existed in old Christendom only through the medium of the association of the community of the Church. A private setting up of one's own religion was heresy, separation from the body of Christ. [509] We cannot refuse to concede to the "Catholic" Church, both Roman and Greek, that in this respect it has most faithfully preserved the spirit of the earliest Christendom. This alone is to-day what Christianity in essence once was--the religion of an association in the sense to which we have referred. Thus Catholicism justly refers to "tradition" for the truth of its religious view of the world and for the correctness of its hierarchical claims. But Catholicism itself beyond doubt first established this "tradition" in its own interests. It teaches also an "historical" Jesus, but clearly one that is historical merely by tradition, and of whose actual historical existence not the least indication has yet been established. Protestantism, on the other hand, is completely unhistoric in passing off the Gospels as the sources, as the "revealed" basis of the faith in Christ, as if they had arisen independently of the Church and represented the true beginnings of Christianity. Consequently one cannot base one's religious faith on the Gospel and wish nevertheless to stand outside of that community, since the writings of the New Testament can only pass as the expression of the community's life. One cannot therefore be Christian in the sense of the original community without obliterating one's own personality and uniting oneself as a member with the "Body of Christ"--that is, with the Church. The spirit of obedience and humility, which Christ demanded of his followers, is nothing but the spirit of subordination to the system of rules of conduct observed by the society of worship passing under his name. Christianity in the original sense is nothing but--"Catholic" Christianity; and this is the faith of the Church in the work of redemption accomplished by the God-man Christ in his Church and by means of the organisation infused with his "spirit." On purely religious grounds the wrongly so-called "Catholicism" could very probably dispense with the fiction of an historical Jesus, and go back to Paul's standpoint before the origin of the Gospels, if it could have faith to-day in its mythological conception, of the God sacrificing himself for mankind, without that fiction. In its present form, however, it stands or falls as a Church with the belief in the historical truth of the God-redeemer; because all the Church's hierarchical claims and authority are based on this authority having been entrusted to her by an historical Jesus through the apostles. Catholicism relies for this, as it has been said, on "tradition." But Catholicism itself called this tradition into life, just as the priests at Jerusalem worked up the tradition of an historical Moses in order to trace back to him their claim to authority. It is the "Irony of World-History" that that very tradition soon afterwards forced the Church, with regard to the historical Christ, to conceal its real nature from the crowd, and to forbid the laity to read the Gospels, on account of the contradiction between the power of the Church and the traditional Christ it had produced. But the position of Protestantism is even more contradictory and more desperate than that of the Catholic Church, in view of our insight into the fictitious character of the Gospels. For Protestantism has no means but history for the foundation of its religious metaphysics; and history, viewed impartially, leads away from those roots of Christianity to which Protestantism strives, instead of towards them. If this is true of Protestant orthodoxy it is even more true of that form of Protestantism which thinks it can maintain Christianity apart from its metaphysical doctrine of redemption because this doctrine is "no longer suitable to the age." Liberal Protestantism is and wishes to be nothing but a mere faith in the historical personality of a man who is supposed to have been born 1,900 years ago in Palestine, and through his exemplary life to have become the founder of a new religion; being crucified and dying in conflict with the authorities at Jerusalem, being raised up then as a God in the minds of his enthusiastic disciples. It is a faith in the "loving God the Father," because Jesus is supposed to have believed in him; in the personal immortality of man, because this is supposed to have been the presupposition of Jesus' appearance and doctrines; in the "incomparable" value of moral instructions, because they stand in a book which is supposed to have been produced under the immediate influence of the prophet of Nazareth. Liberal Protestantism supports morality on this, that Jesus was such a good man, and that for this reason it is necessary for each individual man to follow the call of Jesus. But it bases the faith in Jesus once and for all on the historical significance of the Gospels; though it cannot conceal from itself, after careful consideration, that the belief in their historical value rests on extremely weak grounds, and that we know nothing of that Jesus, not even that he ever lived. In any case we know nothing which could be of influential religious significance, and which could not be put together just as well or better from other less doubtful sources. [510] It is pierced to the heart by the denial of the historical personality of Jesus, not, like Catholicism, merely as a Church, but in its very essence, as a Religion. And as to its real religious kernel it consists in a few fine-sounding phrases and some scattered references to a metaphysics which was once living, but which is now degraded into a mere ornament for modest minds. And after disposing of its would-be historical value there is left only a dimly smouldering spark of "homeless sentiments," which would suit any style of religious faith. Liberal Protestantism proclaims itself as the really "modern" Christianity. Confronted by the philosophic spirit of our day, it lays stress upon having no philosophy. It sets aside all religious speculation as "Myth," if possible with reference to Kant, as this is "modern," without noticing that it is itself most deeply imbedded in mythology with its "historical" Jesus. It believes that, in its exclusive reverence for the man Jesus, it has brought Christianity to the "height of present culture." As to this Stendel justly says: "Of the whole apologetic art with which the modern Jesus-theology undertakes to save Christianity for our time, it can be said that there is no historical religion which could not just as well be brought into accord with the modern mind as that of the New Testament." [511] We have no occasion to weep for the complete collapse of such a "religion." This form of Christianity has already been proved by Hartmann to be worthless from the religious point of view; [512] and it is only a proof of the fascinating power of phrases, of the laxity in our creeds, and the thoughtlessness of the mob in religious matters, that it is even yet alive. For such reasons it is even allowed, under the lead of the so-called critical theology, to proclaim itself as the pure Christianity, now known for the first time. Thus it finds sympathy. This unsystematic collection of thoughts, arbitrarily selected from the view of the world and of life given by the Gospels, which even so requires to be rhetorically puffed out and artistically modified before it is made acceptable to the present age,--this unspeculative doctrine of redemption, which at bottom is uncertain of itself,--this sentimental, æsthetic, Jesus-worship of a Harnack, Bousset, and the rest on whom W. v. Schnehen so pitilessly broke his lance; [513] this whole so-called Christianity of cultured pastors and a laity in need of redemption, would have long since come to grief through its poverty of ideas, its sickening sweetness, if it were not considered necessary to maintain Christianity at all costs, were it even that of the complete deprivation of its spiritual content. The recognition of the fact that the "historical" Jesus has no religious interest at all, but at most concerns historians and philologists, is indeed at present commencing to make its way into wider circles. [514] If one only knew a way out of the difficulty! If one were only not afraid of following a clear lead just because one might then possibly be forced beyond the existing religion in the course of his ideas--as the example of Kalthoff showed! If only one had not such a fearful respect for the past and such a tender "historic unconsciousness" and such immense respect for the "historical basis" of existing religion! The reference to history and the so-called "historical continuity of the religious development" is indeed on the face of it merely a way out of a difficulty, and another way of putting the fact that one is not desired to draw the consequences of his presuppositions. As if there can still be talk of a "historical basis" where there is no history, but pure myth! As if the "preservation of historical continuity" could consist in maintaining as history what are mythical fictions, just because they have hitherto passed for historic truth, though we have seen through their purely fictitious and unreal character! As if the difficulty of the redemption of present-day civilisation from the chaos of superstition, social deceit, cowardice, and intellectual servitude which are connected with the name of Christianity, lay in a purely spiritual sphere and not rather in the sentiment, in the slovenly piety, in the heavy weight of ancient tradition, above all in the economic, social, and practical relations which unite our churches with the past! Faith in the future of Christianity is still built not so much on the persuasive inner truth of its doctrine, but much more on the inborn religious feeling of the members of the community, on the religious education in school and home, and the consequent increasing store of metaphysical and ethical ideas, on protection by the State and--on the law of inertia in the spiritual life of the mob. For the rest, in pulpit, in parish papers, and in public life, a method of expression is used which is not essentially different from that of orthodoxy, but is so adapted as to allow every man to think what he deems best for himself. We are enthusiastically told that thus we are able to keep the rudderless ship of Protestantism still a while above water, and that we have "reconciled" faith with modern culture in "the further development of Christianity." Thus nineteen hundred years of religious development were completely in error. Is no other course open to us but a complete break with the Christian doctrine of redemption? This doctrine, however--such was the result of our previous examination--is independent of the belief in an historical Jesus. Its centre of gravity lies in the conception of the "incarnation" of God, who suffers in the world but is finally victorious over this suffering; and through union with whom Mankind also "prevails over the world" and gains a new life in a higher sphere of existence. That the form of this divine Redeemer of the world coalesced, in the minds of the Christian community, with that of a man Jesus; that, consequent on this, the act of redemption was fixed as to time and place, is only the consequence of the conditions under which the new religion appeared. For this reason it can only claim, in and for itself, a transient practical significance, and not a special religious value; while on the other hand it has become the doom of Christianity that just this making into history of the principle of redemption makes it impossible for us still to acknowledge this religion. But then the preservation of historical continuity or the "further development" of Christianity in its proper sense probably does not consist in separating this chance historical side of the Christian doctrine of redemption from its connection with the whole Christian view of the world and setting it up by itself, but only in going back to the essential and fundamental idea of the Christian religion, and stating its metaphysical doctrine of redemption in a manner more nearly answering to the ideas of the day. From the conception of a personal God-redeemer arose the possibility of sacrificing a man in God's place, and of seeing the divine and ideal man, that is, the Idea of Man, in an actual man. From the growing Church's desire for authority, from its opposition to Gnostic phantasy with its intellectual volatilising of the religious-moral kernel of the Pauline doctrine of redemption, and from the wish not to give up the historical connection with Judaism on opportunist grounds, arose the necessity of portraying the divine-human expiatory sacrifice as the sacrifice of an historical person who had arisen in Judaism. All these different reasons, which led to the formation of the belief in an "historical" Jesus, have no force with us, particularly after it has been shown that the personality of the principle of redemption, this fundamental presupposition of the evangelical "history," is in the end to blame for all the contradictions and shortcomings of that religion. To lead back to its real essence the Christian doctrine of redemption can consequently mean nothing but placing the idea of the God-man, as it lies at the basis of that doctrine, in the central point of the religious view of the world, through the stripping off of the mythical personality of the Logos. God must become man, so that Man can become God and be redeemed from the bounds of the finite. The idea of Man which is realised in the world must itself be a divine idea, an idea of the Deity, and so God must be the common root and essence of all individual men and things; only then may Man attain his existence in God and freedom from the world, through this consciousness of his supernatural divine essence. Man's consciousness of himself and of his true essence must itself be a divine consciousness. Man, and indeed every man, must be a purely finite phenomenon, an individual limitation, the clothing of the Deity with a human form. In possibility he is a God-man, to be born again an actual God-man through his moral activity, and consequently to become really one with God. In this conception all the contradictions of Christian dogmatism are solved, and the kernel of its doctrine of redemption is preserved without being divested of its true significance by the introduction of mythical phantasy or of historical coincidences, as is the case in Christianity. If we are still to use the language of the past, and to call the divine essence of mankind the immanent Godhead, "Christ," then any advance of religion can only consist in the development and working out of this "inner Christ," that is, of the spiritual-moral tendencies dwelling in mankind, in the carrying of it back to its absolute and divine basis, but not in the historical personification of this inner human nature. Any reality of the God-man consequently consists in "Christ's" activity in Man, in the proving of his "true self," of his personal, spiritual essence, in the raising of one's self to personality on the ground of Man's divine nature, but not in the magical efficacy of an external divine personality. This, indeed, is nothing but the religious ideal of mankind, which men have projected on to an historical figure, in order to assure themselves of the "reality" of the ideal. It is not true that it is "essential" to the religious consciousness to consider its ideal in human form, and that for this reason the historical Jesus is indispensable for the religious life. Were this true, religion would not be, in principle, in a position to raise itself above the mythical and primitive stage of God's externality and appearance to the senses, and to conquer these Gods, working them more and more into the forms of an inner nature. This, however, is the essence of religious development. Religion would otherwise be confined to a lower province in the human life of the spirit; and it would be overthrown whenever the fiction of that projection and separation of God from one's own self was seen through. It is only to orthodox Christianity that it is necessary to represent the God in Man as a God outside of Man, as the "unique" personality of a historical God-man; and that because it still remains with one foot in religious naturalism and mythology, and the historical circumstances of another age occasioned the choice of that representation and falsification of the idea of the God-man. To think of the world's activity as God's activity; of mankind's development, filled with struggles and sufferings, as the story of a divine struggle and Passion; of the world-process as the process of a God, who in each individual creature fights, suffers, conquers and dies, so that he may overcome the limitations of the finite in the religious consciousness of man and anticipate his future triumph over all the suffering of the world--that is the real Christian doctrine of redemption. To revive in this sense the fundamental conception from which Christianity sprang--and which is independent of any historical reference--is, indeed, to return to this religious starting-point. Protestantism, on the contrary, which repudiates Paul's religion and sets up the Gospels as the foundation of its belief, nevertheless does not go behind Christianity's development into the Church, back to the origin of Christianity, but remains always within this development, and deceives itself if it thinks that it can prevail over the Church from the point of view of the Gospel. [515] In such an interpretation and development of the Christian conception of redemption "historical continuity" is preserved just as decidedly as it is in the one-sided making into history of that thought on the side of liberal Protestantism. What is in opposition to it is, on the one hand, completely unhistorical belief in an historical Jesus; on the other hand, the prejudice against the "immanent God," or against Pantheism. But this prejudice is based entirely on that fiction of an historical "mediator" and the hypothesis contained therein of a dualistic separation of world and God. The representatives of the monistic conception--who began to organise themselves a short time ago--should be clearer as to the significance of that conception than they are for the most part even at the present day. They must perceive that the true doctrine of unity can only be the doctrine of the all in one. There must be an idealistic monism in opposition to the naturalistic monism of Haeckel, which is prevalent even to-day. This monism must not exclude but include God's existence; and its present unfruitful negation of all religion must deepen into a positive and religiously valuable view of the world. Then, and not till then, will it be able to effect a genuine separation from the Church, and the monistic movement, still in its childhood, may lead to an inner improvement and renovation of our spiritual life in general. It requires much short-sightedness on the part of the exponents of a purely historical Christianity to suppose that the soulless and poor faith in the personal, or as it is considered better expressed to-day, in the "living" God, in freedom and immortality, supported by the authority of the "unique" personality of a man Jesus who died two thousand years ago, will be in a position permanently to satisfy religious needs, even when the metaphysic of redemption, still connected with it at all points, and the pious attitude based upon this are completely stripped off from it. The earlier the orthodox Christians, by giving up their superstition in an historical Jesus, and the Monists, by sacrificing their equally fatal superstition in the sole reality of matter and in the redeeming truths of physical science which alone can give happiness, come to a mutual reconciliation, the better it will be for both. The more surely we shall avoid the total obliteration of the religious consciousness; and the civilised nations of Europe will be saved from the loss of their spiritual ballast--towards which loss there seems at the present day to be a continuous movement on all sides. At present there are only two possibilities--either to look on quietly while the tidal wave of naturalism, getting ever more powerful from day to day, sweeps away the last vestige of religious thought, or to transfer the sinking fire of religion to the ground of Pantheism, in a religion independent of any ecclesiastical guardianship. The time of dualistic Theism has gone by. At present all the advancing spirits, in spheres most widely different, concur in striving towards Monism. This striving is so deeply grounded and so well warranted, that the Church will not be able to suppress it for ever. [516] The chief obstacle to a monistic religion and attitude is the belief, irreconcilable with reason or history, in the historical reality of a "unique," ideal, and unsurpassable Redeemer. NOTES [1] Cf. also his "Kritik der Evangelien," 2 vols. (1850-51). [2] "Kultur d. Gegenwart: Gesch. d. christl. Religion," 2nd ed., 1909, 47. [3] The same is true of Clemen, who, judging by his "Religionsgeschichtl. Erklärung d. N.T." (1909), appears to be acquainted with Robertson's masterpiece, "Christianity and Mythology," only from a would-be witty notice of Réville, and furthermore only cites the author when he thinks he can demolish him with ease. [4] A. Hausrath, in his work "Jesus u. die neutestamentlichen Schriftsteller," vol. i. (1908), offers a striking example of how light a matter our theologians make it to overthrow the attacks of the opponents of an historical Jesus. In scarcely three pages at the commencement of his compendious work he rejects the myth theory of Bruno Bauer with the favourite appeal to a few individual and historical features of the Gospel tradition which are intrinsically of no significance, finishing up this "refutation" with a reckless citation from Weinel which proves nothing for the historical character of Jesus. [5] Cf. also his work "Moses, Jesus, Paulus. Drei sagen varianten des babylonischen Gottmenschen Gilgamesch," 2nd ed., 1909. [6] Cf., for example, "Jesus Vier Vorträge, geh. in Frankf." 1910. [7] In other respects the "progress" in the province of religious history is not so great as I formerly believed I could assume. That is to say, in essentials modern learning in this connection has only brought facts to light and given a new focus to points of view which were already possessed (cf. Dupuis and Volney) by the eighteenth century. In the twenties and forties of the nineteenth century investigations, unprejudiced and independent of theology, had already reached in the case of some of their representatives, such as Gfrörer, Lützelberger, Ghillany, Nork, and others, the point which is to-day again represented by the most advanced learning. The revolution of 1848 and the reaction consequent on it in ecclesiastical matters then again shook, on account of their radical tendency, those views which had been already arrived at. The liberal Protestantism, too, that rose as a recoil against orthodoxy in its effort to work out the "historical" Jesus as the kernel of Christianity on its part had no interest in again bringing up the old results. Indeed, it actually makes it a reproach to a person of the present day if he quotes the works of those earlier investigators, and reminds him that religious learning did not begin only with the modern Coryphaei, with Holtzmann, Harnack, &c. Whoever looks upon things from this point of view can most probably agree in the melancholy reflection of a reviewer of the first edition of "The Christ Myth," when he says with reference to the "latest investigations": "Apparently the whole learning of the nineteenth century so far as relates to investigations into the moving forces of civilisation and national upheavals will be considered by future research as an arsenal of errors" (O. Hauser in the Neue Freie Presse, August 8, 1909). [8] It has also been reckoned as a want of "method" in this work that I have often made use of a cautious and restrained mode of expression, that I have spoken of mere "suppositions" and employed locutions such as "it appears," &c., when it has been for the time being impossible for science or myself to give complete certainty to an assertion. This reproach sounds strange in the mouths of such as plume themselves upon "scientific method." For I should think that it was indeed more scientific in the given cases to express oneself in the manner chosen by me, than by an unmeasured certainty in assertions to puff out pure suppositions into undoubted facts. I must leave such a mode of proceeding to the historical theologians. They work purely with hypotheses. All their endeavours to obtain an historical kernel from the Gospels rest upon conjectures simply. Above everything, their explanation of the origin of Christianity simply from an historical Jesus is, in spite of the certainty and self-confidence with which it comes out, a pure hypothesis, and that of very doubtful value. For that in reality the new religion should have been called into life by the "all-subduing influence of the personality of Jesus" and its accompaniments, the visions and hallucinations of the disciples worked up into ecstasies, is so improbable, and the whole view is psychologically so assailable, and, moreover, so futile, that even a liberal theologian like Gunkel declares it entirely insufficient ("Zum religionsgesichtl. Verständnis d. N.T.," 89 sq.). With this explanation, however, stands or falls the whole modern Jesus-religion. For if they cannot show how the Pauline and Johannine Christology could develop from the mere existence of an historical Jesus, if this now forms "the problem of problems of New Testament research" (Gunkel, op. cit.), then their whole conception of the rise of Christianity disappears into air, and they have no right to hold up against others who seek a better explanation the partially hypothetical character of the views advanced by them. [9] Op. cit., 10 sq. [10] Cf. K. Dunkmann, "Der historische Jesus, der mythologische Christus, und Jesus der Christ" (1910). Cf. also Pfleiderer, "Das Christusbild des urchristlichen Glaubens in religionsgeschichtlicher Beleuchtung" (1903), 6 sq. Here, too, it is pointed out that modern scientific theology in its description of the figure of Christ proceeds in anything but an unprejudiced manner. Out of the belief in Christ as contained in the New Testament it "only draws forth what is acceptable to present modes of thinking--passing over everything else and reading in much that is its own--in order to construct an ideal Christ according to modern taste." Pfleiderer declares it a "great illusion" to believe that the pictures of Christ in works such as Harnack's "Wesen des Christentums," each differently drawn according to the peculiarities of their composers, but all more or less in the modern style, are the result of scientific historical research, and are related to the old conceptions of Christ like truth to error. "One should," he says, "be reasonable and honourable enough to confess that both the modern and the antique conceptions of Christ are alike creations of the common religious spirit of their times and sprung from the natural need of faith to fix its special principle in a typical figure and to illustrate it. The differences between the two correspond to the differences of the times, the former a simple mythical Epic, the latter a sentimental and conscious Romance." In the same sense Alb. Schweitzer also characterises the famous "method" of historical theology as "a continual experimentation according to settled hypotheses in which the leading thought rests in the last resort upon an intuition" ("Von Reimarus bis Wrede," 1906). Indeed, Weinel himself, who cannot hold up against the author with sufficient scorn his lack of method and his dilettantism has to confess that the same blemishes which in his opinion characterise dilettantism are to be found even in the most prominent representatives of historical theology, in a Wrede or a Wellhausen. He reproaches both of these with the fact that in their researches "serious faults of a general nature and in method" are present (21). He advises the greatest prudence in respect to Wellhausen's Gospel Commentaries "on account of their serious general blemishes" (26). He objects to Wrede that to be consistent he must himself go over to radical dilettantism (22). He charges Schweitzer actually with dilettantism and blind bias which cause every literary consideration to be lacking (25 sq.). Indeed, he finds himself, in face of the "dilettante endeavours" to deny the historical Jesus, compelled even to admit that liberal theology for the future "must learn to express itself with more caution and to exhibit more surely the method of religious historical comparison" (14). He blames Gunkel for imprudence in declaring Christianity to be a syncretic religion, and demands that the historical works of liberal theology "should be clearer in their results and more convincing in their methods" (16). He says that the method which they employ is at present not sure and clear enough since "it has been spoken of generally in very loose if not misleading terms," and he confesses: "We have apparently not made the measure, according to which we decide upon what is authentic and what not so in the tradition, so plain that it can always be recognised with security" (29). Now, if matters are in such a position, we non-theologians need not take too tragically the reproach of dilettantism and lack of scientific method, since it appears very much as though historical theology, with the exception at most of Herr Weinel, has no sure method. [11] Cf. W. v. Schnehen, "Der moderne Jesuskultus," 2nd ed., 1907, p. 41, a work with which even a Pfleiderer has agreed in the main points; also the same author's "Fr. Naumann vor dem Bankrott des Christentums," 1907. [12] The excursus on "The Legend of Peter" which was contained in the first edition of this work, and there appears to have been rather misunderstood, has recently (1910) appeared more closely worked out and reasoned in an independent form in the Neuer Frankfurter Verlag under the title "Die Petrus Legende. Ein Beitrag zur Mythologie des Christentums." [13] Op cit., 82. [14] Ep. ad Luc. 41. [15] E. v. Mommsen and Wilamowitz in the Transactions of the German Archæological Institute, xxiii. Part iii.; "Christl. Welt," 1899, No. 57. Compare as a specially characteristic expression of that period's longing for redemption the famous Fourth Eclogue of Virgil. Also Jeremias, "Babylonisches im Neuen Testament," 1905, pp. 57 sqq. Lietzmann, "Der Weltheiland," 1909. [16] It is certain that the old Israelite Jahwe only attained that spiritualised character for which he is nowadays extolled under the influence of the Persians' imageless worship of God. All efforts to construct, in spite of this admission, a "qualitative" difference between Jahwe and Ahuramazda, as, for example, Stave does in his work ("Der Einfluss des Parsismus auf das Judentum," 1898, 122 sq.) are unavailing. According to Stave, the conception of good and evil is not grasped in Mazdeism in all its purity and truth, but "has been confused with the natural." But is that distinction "grasped in all its purity" in Judaism with its ritualistic legality? Indeed, has it come to a really pure realisation even in Christianity, in which piety and attachment to the Church so often pass as identical ideas? Let us give to each religion its due, and cease to be subtle in drawing such artificial distinctions in favour of our own--distinctions which fall into nothingness before every unprejudiced consideration. [17] Exod. iv. 22; Deut. xxxii. 6; Hosea xi. 1. [18] Isa. xlix. 6, 8. [19] Id. li. 16. [20] Isa. xliv. 28, xlv. 1 sq. [21] Cumont, "Textes et monuments figurés relatifs aux mystères de Mithra," 1899, vol. i. 188. [22] Isa. xi. 65, 17 sqq. [23] Isa. ix. 6; Micah v. 1. [24] Psa. xlvii. 6, 9, lvii. 12. [25] Ch. xlv.-li. [26] Ch. vi. 1 sqq. [27] Cf. Gunkel, "Zum religionsgesch. Verständnis des Neuen Testaments," 1903, p. 23, note 4. [28] Revelation xxii.; cf. Pfleiderer, "Das Urchristentum. Seine Schriften und seine Lehren," 2nd edit., 1902, vol. ii. 54 sqq. [29] Dan. xii. 3. [30] The assertion advanced by Grätz and Lucius that the work mentioned is a forgery of a fourth-century Christian foisted upon Philo with the object of recommending the Christian "Ascesis," and that a sect of Therapeutes never existed, can now be considered disposed of, since its refutation by Massebiau and Conybeare. Cf. Pfleiderer, "Urchristentum," ii. 5 sq. [31] Cf. as regards the Essenes, Schürer, "Geschichte des jüdischen Volkes im Zeitalter Jesu Christi," 1898, II. 573-584. [32] Regarding the connection between the Essenes and the Apocalypse, cf. Hilgenfeld, "Die jüdische Apokalyptik," 1857, p. 253 sqq. [33] On this point, cf. Brandt, "Die mandäische Religion," 1899; "Realenzyklop, f.d. protest. Theologie u. Kirche," xii. 160 sqq.; Gunkel, op. cit., 18 sqq. [34] Cf. Hilgenfeld, "Ketzergeschichte des Urchristentums," 1884. [35] Gunkel, op. cit., 29. [36] Gen. xxxii. 24. [37] Numb. xx. 16; Exod. xiii. 21. [38] Exod. xxxiii. 14; 2 Sam. v. 23. [39] 1 Kings i. 3; Ezek. xliii. 5. [40] Isa. lxiii. 9 sqq. [41] Psa. ii. [42] Cf. Ghillany, "Die Menschenopfer der alten Hebräer," 1842, 326-334; Eisenmenger, "Entdecktes Judentum," 1711, i. 311, 395 sqq. Also Movers, "Die Phönizier," 1841; i. 398 sq. [43] Exod. xxiii. 20 sqq. [44] Jos. xxiv. 11. [45] Jos. v. 2-10. The unhistorical nature of Joshua is admitted also by Stade. Stade counts him an Ephraimitic myth, recalling to mind in so doing that the Samaritans possessed an apocryphal book of the same name in place of our Book of Joshua ("Gesch. d. Volkes Israel," 1887, i. 64 sqq., 135). The Samaritan Book of Joshua (Chronicum Samaritanum, published 1848) was written in Arabic during the thirteenth century in Egypt, and is based upon an old work composed in the third century B.C. containing stories which in part do not appear in our Book of Joshua. [46] That the hypothesis of Smith here mentioned is quite admissible from the linguistic point of view has lately been maintained by Schmiedel in opposition to Weinel (Protestantenbl., 1910, No. 17, 438). [47] Epiph., "Hæresiol." xxix. [48] Smith, op. cit., 37 sq., 54. [49] Isa. ii. 1. Cf. Epiphanius, op. cit. [50] Id. xxix. 6. [51] "Enc. Bibl.," art. "Nazareth." [52] "Since ha-nosrîm was a very usual term for guardians or protectors, it follows that when the term or its Greek equivalent hoi Nazoraioi was used the adoption of its well-known meaning was unavoidable. Even if the name was really derived from the village of Nazareth, no one would have thought of it. Every one would have unavoidably struck at once upon the current meaning. If a class of persons was called protectors, every one would understand that as meaning that they protected something. No one would hit upon it to derive their name from an otherwise unknown village named Protection" (Smith, op. cit., 47). [53] Cf. in this connection Smith, op. cit., 36 sq., 42 sqq. [54] Cf. Cumont, op. cit., 195 sq. [55] Matt. ii. 25. [56] Zech. iii. 10. [57] Jeremias, op. cit., 56; cf. also 33 and 46, notes. [58] Robertson, "A Short History of Christianity," 1902, 9 sqq. [59] Gunkel, op. cit., 34. [60] Id., op. cit., 39-63; cf. also Robertson, "Pagan Christs," 1903, 155 seq. [61] Cf. Robertson, op. cit., 156. [62] Mark v. 27; Luke xxiv. 19; Acts xviii. 25, xxviii. 31. [63] Luke ix. 49, x. 17; Acts iii. 16; James v. 14 sq. For more details regarding Name magic, see W. Heitmüller, "Im Namen Jesu," 1903. [64] Cf. on whole subject Robertson, op. cit., 153-160. [65] Ch. vii. 29. [66] Isa. iii. [67] Ch. xii. 10 sqq.; cf. Movers, op. cit., i. 196. [68] Ch. viii. 14. [69] Op. cit., 78. [70] Frazer, "The Golden Bough," 1900, ii. 196 sq. [71] Frazer, "Adonis, Attis, Osiris," 1908, 128 sqq. [72] "The Golden Bough," i., iii. 20 sq. [73] Verse 14. [74] Op. cit., viii. 24-29. [75] 1 Gen. xv. 17. [76] Ghillany, op. cit., 148, 195, 279, 299, 318 sqq. Cf. especially the chapter "Der alte hebräische Nationalgott Jahve," 264 sqq. [77] J. M. Robertson, "Pagan Christs," 140-148. It cannot be sufficiently insisted upon that it was only under Persian influence that Jahwe was separated from the Gods of the other Semitic races, from Baal, Melkart, Moloch, Chemosh, &c., with whom hitherto he had been almost completely identified; also that it was only through being worked upon by Hellenistic civilisation that he became that "unique" God, of whom we usually think on hearing the name. The idea of a special religious position of the Jewish people, the expression of which was Jahwe, above all belongs to those myths of religious history which one repeats to another without thought, but which science should finally put out of the way. [78] "Golden Bough," iii. 138-146. [79] Movers, op. cit., 480 sqq. [80] VI. 47 sqq., 209 sqq. [81] Cf. Gunkel, "Schöpfung und Chaos in Urzeit und Endzeit," 1895. 309 sq. E. Schrader, "Die Keilinschriften und das Alte Testament," 1902, 514-520. [82] Ch. viii. 15. Cf. also vi. 8, 9. [83] "Abhandlungen d. Kgl. Ges. d. Wissenschaften zu Göttingen," xxxiv. [84] Cf. also P. Wendland, "Ztschr. Hermes," xxxiii., 1898, 175 sqq., and Robertson, op. cit., 138, note 1. [85] In the same way the Phrygian Attis, whose name characterises him as himself the "father," was also honoured as the "son," beloved and spouse of Cybele, the mother Goddess. He thus varied between a Father God, the high King of Heaven, and the divine Son of that God. [86] Frazer, op. cit., iii. 138-200. Cf. also Robertson, "Pagan Christs," 136-140. [87] Keim, "Geschichte Jesu," 1873, 331 note. [88] Ghillany, op. cit., 510 sqq. [89] Id. 505. [90] 2 Sam. xxi. 9; cf. Lev. xxiii. 10-14. [91] "Hist.," xviii. 7. [92] 2 Kings iii. 27. [93] "Hist. Nat.," xxxiv. 4, § 26. [94] Mentioned in Eusebius, "Praeparatio Evangelica," i. 10. Cf. Movers, op. cit., 303 sq. [95] "Der Mythus bei den Hebräern," 1876, 109-113. [96] Cf. Ghillany, op. cit., 451 sqq.; Daumer, op. cit., 34 sqq., 111. [97] Numb. xx. 22 sqq., xxvii. 12 sqq., xxxiii. 37 sqq., Deut. xxxii. 48 sqq. Cf. Ghillany, op. cit., 709-721. [98] Deut. xviii. 15. [99] Cf. Heb. v. [100] Diodorus Siculus, ii. 44. [101] Justin, "Dial. cum Tryphone," cap. xc. [102] Schürer, op. cit., ii. 555. Cf. also Wünsche, "Die Leiden des Messias," 1870. [103] See above, page 40 sqq. [104] Cf. Eisenmenger, op. cit., ii. 720 sqq.; Gfrörer, "Das Jahrhundert des Heils," 1838, ii. 260 sqq.; Lützelberger, "Die kirchl. Tradition über den Apostel Johannes u. s. Schriften," 1840, 224-229; Dalman, "Der leidende und der sterbende Messias der Synagoge im ersten nachchristlichen Jahrtausend," 1888; Bousset, "Die Religion des Judentums, im neutestamentlichen Zeitalter," 1903, 218 sq.; Jeremias, op. cit., 40 sq. [105] Op. cit., 21. [106] Op. cit., 71 sq. [107] Kautzsch, "Pseudoepigraphen," 500. [108] Winckler, op. cit., 67-77. Cf. also Jeremias, op. cit., 40, and his "Das Alte Testament im Lichte des alten Orients," 1904, 239 sq. [109] Gen. xl. [110] Luke xxiii. 39-43; cf. also Isa. lxxx. 12. [111] Jos. v. 2 sqq. [112] Amos viii. 10; cf. Movers, op. cit., 243. [113] Cf. Robertson, "Pagan Christs," 157. [114] Numb. xiv. [115] Id. xiii. 9; Gen. xlviii. 16. [116] Id. xiii. 7; Gen. xlix. 9. [117] 1 Chron. iv. 11. [118] Judges ii. 9. [119] Id. iv. [120] Cf. Nork, "Realwörterbuch," 1843-5, ii. 301 sq. [121] Cf. on whole subject Martin Brückner, "Der sterbende und auferstehende Gottheiland in den orientalischen Religionen und ihr Verhältnis zum Christentum. Religionsgesch. Volksbücher," 1908. [122] Ch. ii. 12-20. [123] Ch. iii. 1-8. [124] Ch. v. 3-5. [125] Ch. xii. [126] "Zum religionsgesch. Verst. d. N.T.," 54. [127] "L'origine de tous les cultes," 1795, v. 133. [128] "Abraxas," 117. [129] Cf. regarding the mythical nature of Moses, who is to be looked upon as an offshoot of Jahwe and Tammuz, Winckler, op. cit., 86-95. [130] Cf. also O. Pfleiderer, "Das Christusbild des urchristlichen Glaubens in religionsgesch. Beleuchtung," 1903, 37. Also Jeremias, "Das A.T. im Lichte des alten Orients," 254. [131] I. 107. [132] Cf. Plutarch, "Artaxerxes," ch. i. [133] Movers, op. cit., 228. [134] II. 9, 2. [135] Bousset, "Das Judentum," 220. [136] 1 Kings xi. 14 sq. [137] Schrader, "Die Keilinschriften u. d. A.T.," 225. [138] Winckler, op. cit., 172 sqq., Jeremias, "Das A.T. im Lichte d. a. O.," 2nd. ed., 488 sqq.; cf. also Baentsch, "David und sein Zeitalter. Wissenschaft u. Bildung," 1907. [139] Ep. viii. 3. [140] Id. xlii. 58. [141] Ch. v. 1. [142] Gen. xxxv. 11-19; Deut. xxxiii. 12; Gen. xliv. 26. [143] Cf. Nork, "Realwörterbuch," i. 240 sq. [144] The other famous "prophecy" supposed to refer to the birth of the Messiah, viz., Isaiah vii. 14, is at present no longer regarded as such by many. The passage obviously does not refer to the Messiah. This is shown by a glance at the text, and it would hardly have been considered so long as bearing that meaning, if any one had taken the trouble to read it in its context. Consider the situation. Queen Rezin of Syria and Pekah of Israel march against the Jewish King Ahaz, who is therefore much troubled. At the command of Jahwe the prophet goes to the king in order to exhort him to courage, and urges him to pray for a sign of the happy outcome of the fight. He, however, refuses to tempt God. Thereupon Isaiah himself gives him a sign. "Behold," he says, "a virgin shall conceive and bear a son, and shall call his name Immanuel, God be with us. Before the child shall know to refuse the evil and choose the good, the land whose two kings thou abhorrest shall be forsaken." And undisturbed by the fact that this prophecy for the moment can give but little encouragement to the king, Isaiah goes with the help of two witnesses(!) to a prophetess and gets her with child in order to make his words true(!). The text does not say in what relationship the woman stood to Isaiah. The Hebrew word Almah may mean "young woman" as well as "virgin." The Septuagint, however, thoughtlessly making the passage refer to the Messiah, and having before its eyes very possibly the stories of the miraculous birth of the heathen Redeemer Gods, translates the word straightway by "virgin," without thinking what possible light it thereby threw upon Isaiah. [145] Ch. lx. 1 sqq. [146] Psa. lxviii. 32 sq. [147] Dupuis, op. cit., 268. [148] Matt. i. 14 sq. [149] The feasts of the Gods in question also correspond to this in character. They fell upon the solstice (the birthday or day of death of the sun), so far as their connection with the sun was emphasized. On the contrary, upon the equinoxes, so far as their connection with vegetation was concerned, sowing and harvest were brought into prominence. Usually, however, death and reappearance were joined in one single feast, and this was celebrated at the time in spring when day and night were of equal length, when vegetation was at its highest, and in the East the harvest was begun. Cf. Jeremias, "Babylonisches im N.T.," 10 sq. [150] One should compare the description given by Hommel of the climate of Babylonia (op. cit., 186) with the picture of the natural occurrences which, according to Gunkel, gave occasion for the myth of the birth of Marduk, and the threatening of the child by the "Winter Dragon," Tiâmat. "Before spring descends to the earth from heaven, winter has had its grim (!) rule upon the earth. Men pine away (in the country of the two rivers!) beneath its sway, and look up to heaven wondering if deliverance will not come. The myth consoles them with the story that the God of spring who will overthrow winter has already been born. The God of winter who knows for what he is destined is his enemy, and would be very pleased if he could devour him. And winter at present ruling is much stronger than the weak child. But his endeavour to get rid of his enemy comes to nought. Do you then want to know why he is so grim? He knows that he has only a short time. His might is already broken although we may be yet unaware of it. The year has already changed to spring. The child grows up in heaven; the days become longer, the light of the sun stronger. As soon as he is grown up he descends and overthrows his old enemy. 'Only trust in God without despair, spring must come'" ("Schöpfung und Chaos," 389 sq.). [151] Dupuis has already pointed this out, op. cit., 152. [152] Macrobius, "Saturnal.," i. 18, i. 34-35. [153] "Adversus Nationes," v. 6 and 13. [154] Cf. Simrock, "Handbuch der deutschen Mythologie," 4th ed., 1874, 201 and 225. [155] Op. cit., 138. The transfixing of the victim with the holy lance, as we meet it in John xix. 34, appears to be a very old sacrificial custom, which is found among the most different races. For example, both among the Scythian tribes in Albania in the worship of Astarte (Strabo) and in Salamis, on the island of Cyprus, in that of Moloch (Eusebius, "Praep. Evang.," iv. 16). "The lance thrust," says Ghillany, with reference to the Saviour's death, "was not given with the object of testing whether the sufferer was still alive, but was in order to correspond with the old method of sacrificing. The legs were not broken because the victim could not be mutilated. In the evening the corpse had to be taken down, just as Joshua only allowed the kings sacrificed to the sun to remain until evening upon the cross" (op. cit., 558). [156] Frazer, op. cit., 345 sq. F. Kauffmann, "Balder Mythus u. Sage nach ihren dichterischen u. religiösen Elementen untersucht," 1902, 266 sq. [157] Rigv. v. 1, v. 2, iii. 1, vii. 12, i. 96, &c. [158] Hillebrand, "Vedische Mythologie," 1891-1902, ii. 38 sq. [159] According to early Christian writers, such as Justin and Origen, Jesus also came into the world in a cave, and Jerome complains (Epist. lviii.) that in his time the heathens celebrated the feast of the birth of Tammuz at Bethlehem in the same cave in which Jesus was born. [160] I. 72, 2; v. 11, 6; v. 2, 1; iii. 1, 14; i. 65, 1; x. 46, 2. [161] III. 1, 7; iii. 9, 7; v. 1, 1; v. 2, 1, and 2; iii. 7, 2; x. 4, 2, and 3. [162] Cf. Volney, "Die Ruinen," 1791 (Reclam), note 83 to chap. xiii. This is the reason why the infant Christ was represented in early Christian pictures lying in his mother's lap or in a cradle between an Ox and an Ass. [163] Jeremias, "Babylonisches im Neuen Testament," 35, note 1. Cf. Dupuis, op. cit., 111 sqq. [164] Dupuis, op. cit., 143 sq. [165] Cf. also Winckler, "Die babylonische Geisteskultur Wissenschaft u. Bildung," 1907. Jeremias, "Babylonisches im N.T.," 62 sqq. The astral references of the Christ myth are very beautifully shown in the "Thomakapelle" at Karlsruhe, where the Master has depicted in costly profusion and unconscious insight the chief points of the Gospel "history" in connection with the signs of the Zodiac and the stars--the riddle of the Christ story and its solution! As is well known, the theological faculty in Heidelburg conferred an "honorary doctorate of theology" upon the Master. [166] "Le Lalita Vistara, traduit du sanscrit en français," i. 76 sqq. [167] Further in R. Seydel, "Die Buddhalegende u. das Leben Jesu," 2nd ed., 1897, and in his "Das Evangelium von Jesus in seinem Verhältnis zur Buddhasage u. Buddhalegende," 1882. Also Van den Bergh van Eysinga, "Indische Einflüsse auf evang. Erzählungen," 2nd ed., 1909. Cf. also O. Pfleiderer, "Das Christusbild," 23 sqq. [168] "Urchristentum," i. 411 sq. [169] Robertson, "Christianity and Mythology," 1900, 129-302. [170] Op. cit., 25 sqq., 239-244; cf., on the other hand, Paul W. Schmidt, "Die Geschichte Jesu erläutert," 1904, 16. [171] Cf. also Seydel, "Evangelium von Jesus," 305 sqq.; "Buddha-Legende," 46 sqq. Also Émile Burnouf, "La Science des Religions," 4th ed., 1885, 105. [172] R. Kessler, "Realenz. f. prot. Theol. u. Kirche," xii. 163. [173] Foucaux, "Le Lalita Vistara," i. 40. [174] Hippolytus, op. cit., 9, 10; Epiphanius, op. cit., 30, 53. [175] Cf. Pfleiderer, "Christusbild," 14 sq. [176] Cf. also Max Müller, "Natural Religion"; Bergaigne, "La religion védique d'après les hymnes du Rigveda," 1878-83; Holtzmann, "Agni nach den Vorstellungen des Mahâbhârata," 1878. [177] Rgv. iii. 1, 9, 10. [178] Id. ii. 23; i. 7; xcv. 2, 5; x. 2, 7; viii. 29, 3. [179] Id. iii. 5, 10; i. 148, 1. Cf. also Adalb. Kuhn, "Die Herabkunft des Feuers und des Göttertrankes," 2nd ed., 1886-9. In Mazdeism also the light is indissolubly connected with the air, passing as this does as its bearer. Cf. F. Cumont, "Textes et monuments," i. 228, ii. 87 sq., and his "Mystères de Mithra." [180] Il., xi. 20; cf. Movers, op. cit., 242 sq. [181] Cf. John x. 3, 7, 9. [182] O. Gruppe, "Griech. Mythologie," 1900, ii. 1328, note 10. [183] Id., op. cit., 1307. According to the Arabian legend Father Abraham, also, who here plays the part of a saviour and redeemer, was under the name of Thare, a skilful master workman, understanding how to cut arrows from any wood, and being specially occupied with the preparation of idols (Sepp, "Das Heidentum und dessen Bedeutung für das Christentum," 1853, iii. 82). [184] "Praep. Evang.," ix. 27. [185] 2 Cor. viii. 9. [186] Gruppe, op. cit., 1322, 1331. [187] Preller, "Griech. Mythol.," 1894, 775 sq., 855. [188] Robertson, "Christianity and Mythology," 322. [189] Matt. iii. 17; Mark i. 11; Luke iii. 22. [190] Phereda or Pheredet, the dove, is the Chaldaic root of the name Aphrodite, as the Goddess in the car drawn by two doves was called among the Greeks. In the whole of Nearer Asia the cult of doves was connected with that of the Mother Goddess. As is well known, the dove as a symbol of innocence or purity is also the bird of the Virgin Mary, who is often compared to one. Indeed, in the Protevangelium of James she is actually called a dove which nested in the temple, a plain reference to the dove cult of the Syrian Aphrodite or Atargatis (Astarte, Astaroth). [191] Irenæus, i. 28. [192] Hippolytus iv. 35. This brings to mind that, according to Persian ideas also, besides the Trinity of Heaven (Ahuramazda), Sun, Fire (Mithras), and Air (Spirit, "word," Honover, Spenta Armaiti), the earth stood as a fourth principle (Anahita, Anaitis, Tanit). This stood in the same relation to Mithras as Istar to Tammuz, Cybele to Attis, Atargatis to Adonis, Maya to Agni, Aphrodite to Hermes, Mary to Jesus, &c., becoming identical, however, usually with the "word" of God, the holy spirit (Cumont, op. cit., ii. 87 sq.). [193] "Dialog.," 88. [194] One cannot therefore say, as is usual, that Mark, in whom the story of the birth given in Matthew and Luke is not found, knew nothing of a supernatural birth of Christ. For the narrative of the baptism is the history of his birth, while the corresponding narrative of the other Evangelists only came into existence later, when the original sense of the story of the baptism in Mark was no longer understood. [195] Quoted in Usener, "Religionsgesch. Untersuchungen," 1889, i. 64. [196] Thus Mithras also was said to have been born on the bank of a river, just as Jesus received baptism in or near the Jordan. On this account "the Rock-born" was usually represented with a torch in his left and a sword or knife in his right hand (Cumont, "Myst. d. Mithra," 97). This recalls to mind the words of Jesus in Matt. x. 34: "I came not to send peace, but a sword." [197] Cf. Wobbermin, "Religionsgesch. Studien zur Frage der Beeinflussung des Urchristentums durch das antike Mysterienwesen," 1896, 154 sqq. The Christian Church also surrounded the act of baptism with an unusual splendour of lights and candles. Not only was the House of God lit up on this occasion in a festive manner, but each individual to be baptized had to carry a burning candle. The sermons which have come down to us delivered on the feast of the Epiphany, the feast of the birth and baptism of the Saviour which in earlier days fell together(!), excel in the description of the splendour of the lights; indeed, the day of the feast itself was actually called "the day of lights" or "the lights" (phota). [198] Rgv. x. 88, 2. [199] Id. v. 2, 9. [200] "Antiq.," xviii. 5, 2. [201] "Contra Celsum," i. 47. [202] Graetz calls it "a shameless interpolation" ("Gesch. d. Juden," 1888, iii. 278). Cf. J. Chr. K. v. Hofmann, "Die heiligen Schriften des N.T.," vii. Tl. 3, 1876, 4; Schürer, "Gesch. den jüdischen Volkes im Zeitalter Jesu," i. 438, note. [203] Cf. Sepp., op. cit., i. 168 sqq. [204] Cf. Usener, op. cit., 62. [205] I. 8, 9, 10, 16; cf. Matt. iv. 16. [206] Luke i. 5 sqq. [207] Gen. xvii. 16 sqq. [208] Judges, xiii. 2 sqq. [209] John v. 35. [210] Id. iii. 30. [211] Luke i. 26. [212] Matt. iii. 4. [213] 2 Kings i. 8. [214] Matt. xi. 14. [215] Cf. Nork, "Realwörterbuch," i. 451 sqq. The Baptist John in the Gospels also appears as the "forerunner," announcer, herald, and preparer of the way for Jesus, and it appears that the position of Aaron in regard to Moses, he being given the latter as a mouthpiece or herald, has helped in the invention of the Baptist's figure. A similar position is taken in the Old Testament by the "Angel of the Countenance," the messenger, mediator, ambassador, and "Beginning of the way of God," the rabbinic Metatron, whom we saw earlier was identical with Joshua (see above, p. 56 sq.). In the Syro-Phoenician and the Greek Mysteries Cadmus, Kadmilos, or Kadmiel, a form of the divine messenger and mediator Hermes, also called Iasios (Joshua), corresponded to him, his name literally meaning "he who goes before God" or prophesies of him, the announcer, herald, or forerunner of the coming God (cf. Schelling, "Die Gottheiten von Samothrake Ww.," i. 8, 358, 392 sqq.). Ezra ii. 40, 39, and Nehem. vii. 43, call Kadmiel a Levite, he being always named together with the High Priest Joshua. It is probably only another name of the latter himself, and characterises him as servant and herald of God. Now Kadmiel is the discoverer of writing and the establisher of civilisation, and in so far identical with Oannes, the Babylonian "Water-man" and Baptism-God (Movers, op. cit., 518 sqq.). Can Oannes (Johannes) the Baptist in this way have become Kadmiel, the "forerunner" and preparer of the way of Jesus, who announced his near arrival, and the God Jesus, in consequence of this, have divided into two different figures, that of Joshua-Kadmiel (Johannes) and the Messiah Jesus? In this regard it is certainly not without significance that the figure of the High Priest Joshua in Zechariah wavers between the Messiah (Zemah) and a mere forerunner of the latter. John's question to Jesus, "Art thou he that cometh, or look we for another?" (Matt. xi. 3) is exactly the question which strikes the reader in reading the corresponding passage of Zechariah. Possibly the presence of the dove at the baptism in the Jordan obtains in this way a still closer explanation, for Semiramis, the Dove Goddess, is the spouse of Oannes (Ninus); John and the dove accordingly are the parents, who are present at the "birth" of the divine son. But the violent death of John at Herod's command and the head of the prophet upon the dish have prototypes in the myth of Cadmus. For the head of the latter is supposed to have been cut off by his brother and to have been buried upon a brazen shield, a cult story which plays a part especially in the Mysteries of the Cabiri Gods, to whom Cadmus belongs (cf. Creuzer, "Symbolik und Mythologie der alten Völker," 1820, ii. 333). According to Josephus (op. cit.) John was put to death because Herod feared political disorders from his appearance, while Matthew makes him fall a victim to Herod's revenge, the latter having been censured by John for his criminal marriage with the wife of his brother. Moreover, the prophet Elijah, who accuses Ahab of having yielded to his wife Jezebel and of having murdered Naboth (1 Kings xxi.), as well as the prophet Nathan, who reproaches David for having killed Uriah and having married his wife (2 Sam. xii., cf. also Esther v. 7, 2), are also prototypes. According to this a religious movement or sect must, in the minds of posterity, have been condensed into the figure of John the Baptist. Its followers, who closely resembled the Essenes, in view of the imminent nearness of the kingdom of heaven, exhorted men to a conversion of mind, looked upon the Messiah in the sense of Daniel essentially as the God appointed ("awakened") judge over the living and the dead, and sought by baptism to apply to the penitents the magic effects which should flow from the name of their Cult God Johannes (Oannes), the Babylonian-Mandaic Baptism and Water-God. The stern and gloomy character of this sect may have been reflected in the character sketch of the John in the Gospels, and between it and the sect of Jesus many collisions, disagreements, and conversions appear to have taken place (Matt. xi. 1 sq.; Luke vii. 18 sqq.; John i. 37). Possibly the sect of Jesus was originally only an excrescence from, and a development of, the conception which the disciples of John had of the Messiah, as is indicated by the supposed blood relationship between Jesus and John. At any rate, the adherents of the former in their belief in the sufferings, death, and resurrection of the Messiah felt that their point of view was higher and more perfect as compared with that of John's disciples, who do not appear to have risen essentially above the general ideas of the Jewish Apocalyptics. According to Matthew iii. 13 Jesus came out of Galilee, the "Galilee of the Heathens," to the baptism of John. Herein the original heathenish origin of the faith of Jesus was pointed to. "The people which sat in darkness have seen a great light. To them which sat in the region and shadow of death, to them did light spring up" (Matt. iv. 16; cf. Smith, op. cit., 95). The opposition of the two different sects was, at any rate, so great that John's disciples needed a further instruction and a new baptism "in the name of the Lord Jesus" to receive the Holy Ghost, in order to be received into the Christian community. For example, the twelve at Ephesus, who had simply received the baptism of John, as well as the eloquent and literary Alexandrian, Apollo, who none the less proclaimed the message of salvation (ta peri tou Iesou) (Acts xviii. 24 sqq., xix. 1-7). [216] Cf., Sepp, "Heidentum," i. 170 sq., 190 sq.; Winckler, "Die babylonische Geisteskultur," 89, 100 sq. By this reference of the Gospel story to the sun's course it appears that the activity of Jesus from his baptism in the Jordan to his death, according to the account of the Synoptics, only covered a year. It is the mythological year of the sun's course through the Watery Region in January and February until the complete exhaustion of its strength in December. [217] Mark ix. 2-7. [218] The horns (crescent) which he also shares with Jahwe, as the Syrian Hadah shows (Winckler, "Gesch. Israels," ii. 94), recalls to mind the Moon nature of Moses. Moses is, as regards his name, the "Water-drawer." The moon is, however, according to antique views, merely the water-star, the dispenser of the dew and rain, and the root ma (mo), which, in the name of Moses, refers to water, is also contained in the various expressions for the moon. [219] "Contra Tryph.," xlvi. [220] Cf. above, 112. [221] Burnouf, op. cit., 195 sq. [222] That in the closer description of this occurrence Old Testament ideas have had their part has already been advanced by others. Thus in the transfiguration of Jesus the transfiguration of Moses upon Sinai without doubt passed before the mind of the narrator. And just as Jesus took with him his three chief disciples on to the mount of transfiguration, so Moses took his three trusted followers, Aaron, Nadab, and Abihu, to partake in the vision of Jahwe (Strauss, "Leben Jesu," ii. 269 sqq.). [223] Rgv. x. 191; cf. i. 72, 5. [224] Id. iii. 28, vi. 11. [225] Max Müller, "Einleitung in die vergl. Religionswissenschaft," note to p. 219. [226] Rigv. x. 90. [227] The Rigveda describes Purusha as a gigantic being (cf. the Eddic Ymir) who covers the earth upon all sides and stretches ten fingers beyond. The Talmud, too (Chagiga, xii. 1), ascribes to the first man Adam a gigantic size, reaching as he did with his head to heaven and with his feet to the end of the world. Indeed, according to Epiphanius ("Haeres." xix. 4), the Essenes made the size of Christ too, the "second Adam," stretch an immeasurable distance. [228] In Hebrew Messiah means "the anointed." But Agni too as God of Sacrifices bears the name of the anointed, akta (above, p. 99). Indeed, it appears as though the Greek Christ, as a translation of Messiah, stands in relation to Agni. For the God over whom at his birth was poured milk or the holy Soma cup and sacrificial butter, bore the surname of Hari among the members of the cult. The word signified originally the brightness produced by anointing with fat and oil. It appears in the Greek Charis, an epithet of Aphrodite, and is contained in the verb chrio, to anoint, of which Christos is the participial form (cf. Cox, "Mythology of the Aryan Nations," 1903, 27, 254). [229] The Bhagavadgîta shows that the idea of a self-sacrifice was associated with Krishna also, whom we have already learnt to recognise as a form of Agni, and that his becoming man was regarded as such a sacrifice. It (ii. 16) runs: "I am the act of sacrifice, the sacrifice of God and of man. I am the sap of the plant, the words, the sacrificial butter and fire, and at the same time the victim." And in viii. 4 Krishna says of himself: "My presence in nature is my transitory being, my presence in the Gods is Purusha (i.e., my existence as Purusha), my presence in the sacrifices is myself incorporated in this body." But Mithras too offers himself for mankind. For the bull whose death at the hands of the God takes the central position in all the representations of Mithras was originally none other than the God himself--the sun in the constellation of the Bull, at the spring equinox--the sacrifice of the bull accordingly being also a symbol of the God who gives his own life, in order by his death to bring a new, richer and better life. Mithras, too, performs this self-sacrifice, although his heart struggles against it, at the command of the God of Heaven, which is brought to him by a raven, the messenger of the God of Gods. (cf. Cumont, op. cit., 98 sqq.). And just as according to Vedic ideas Purusha was torn in pieces by the Gods and Dæmons and the world made out of his parts, so too according to Persian views the World Bull Abudad or the Bull Man Gayomart at the beginning of creation is supposed to have shed his blood for the world, to live again as Mithras (Sepp., op. cit., i. 330, ii. 6 sq.). [230] Cumont, "Myst. de Mithra," 101. [231] Rgv. x. 16. [232] Id. x. 16, 6. [233] Id. lx.; cf. also Burnouf, op. cit., 176 sqq. [234] Op. cit., vii. 3. He is Jahwe, the King of Jeru-Salem itself (Josephus, "Ant.," x. 2), and corresponds to the Phoenician Moloch (Melech) Sidyk, who offered his only born son, Jehud, to the people as an expiation. Cf. supra, p. 77. [235] Op. cit., xix. 13, xxxii. 29, xliv. 17, xvi. 25. [236] Op. cit., lxv. 11. [237] As is well known, the Germanic first man, Mannus, according to Tacitus, was a son of the hermaphrodite Thuisto. [238] Lev. xxiv. 5-9. [239] Jos. iv. 1 sqq.; ch. v. [240] Thus Helios also, the Greek Sun-God, the heavenly physician and saviour, annually prepared the "Sun's Table" in nature, causing the fruit to ripen, the healing herbs to grow, and inviting mortals to the life-giving feast. "This Table of the Sun was always spread in the land of the happy and long-living Ethiopians; even the twelve Gods journeyed thither each year with Zeus for twelve days, i.e., in the last Octave of the old and new year, as though to the feast of Agape" (Sepp., op. cit., i. 275). For the rest the number twelve had throughout the whole of antiquity in connection with such ceremonial feasts a typical signification. For example, among the Athenians, whose common religious feasts were celebrated annually on the occasion of the spring sacrifices; also among the Jews at least twelve persons had to be assembled round the table of the Easter Lamb (Sepp., op. cit., ii. 313 sqq.). [241] Ghillany, op. cit., 510 sqq. [242] Preller, "Griech. Mythol.," 398, 850, and his "Röm. Mythol.," 275. [243] Strabo, xi. 2; Justin, xlii. 3. [244] Preller, "Griech. Mytholog.," 110. [245] It is worth while to observe that the High Priest Joshua returned to Jerusalem at the head of twelve elders (Ezra ii. 2; Nehem. vii. 7. Cf. Stade, "Gesch. d. V. Israel," ii. 102). [246] Cf. Movers, op. cit., 539 sqq.; Sepp., "Heidentum," 271, 421. [247] Cf. Jeremias, "Babyl. im N.T.," 69-80. [248] Rgv. vi. 54. [249] Cf. "The Hymns to Dadhikra," iv. 38-40. [250] Cf. Burnouf, op. cit., 196. The connection between the Fire-God and water is of extreme antiquity. As is well known, in the Edda Loki seeks to escape the pursuit of the Gods in the shape of a salmon; Hephaistos, too, after being cast forth from heaven remains concealed in the sea until Dionysus brings him out; in Rome on the 22nd of August fish from the Tiber used to be sacrificed to Vulcan, being cast living into the fire in representation of the souls of men (Preller, "Röm. Mythol.," ii. 151). It is uncertain whether or to what degree the relations of the sun to the constellation of the Fishes have influenced these images. As regards Babylon, where astrology underwent the most accurate development, this can indeed be looked upon as certain. Here Ea (Oannes), the God of Water and of Life, the father of the Redeemer God Marduk, was represented under the form of a fish. Again, it was not only to the Philistinian Dagon that fish as well as doves were sacred (above, p. 118), but also to the Syrian Atargatis, the latter having borne, as was said, the "Ichthus," or fish, and the worship of fish being connected with devotion to her (Robertson Smith, "Religion of the Semites," 174 sqq.). In Egypt Horus was the "divine fish," being represented with a fish-tail and holding a cross in the hand. But the Joshua of the Old Testament, in whom we believe we see the Israelite original of the Christian Saviour, was also called a "Son of the Fish" (Nun, Ninus, a form of Marduk, whose spouse or beloved, Semiramis, is also a Fish Divinity and is the same as Derketo (Atargatis), the Syrian Mother Goddess.) The Rabbinists called the Messiah son of Joseph (see above, p. 80 sq.), Dag (Dagon) the Fish, and made him to be born of a fish; that is, they expected his birth under the constellation of the Fishes, on which account the Jews were long accustomed to immolate a fish on expiatory feasts. Finally, the fish is also Vishnu's symbol, in whose worship baptism of water takes an important place. Again, the God is said in the form of a fish to have come to the rescue of the pious Manu, the only just man of his time, the Indian Noah, and to have steered the Ark through the flood, thus ensuring to mankind its continuation. It is not difficult to suppose that this idea as well influenced the symbols of Christianity through Mandaic (Gnostic) channels. At any rate, it cannot be admitted at all that the symbol of the fish first arose out of a mere play on letters so far as the formula "Jesous Christos Theou Huios Soter" represents in five words the expression of the quintessence of the Christian faith (cf. van den Bergh van Eysinga, "Ztschr. d. Deutchen Morgenländ. Gesellschaft B.," ix., 1906, 210 sqq.). [251] Cf. Iamblichus, "De Symbol. Aegyptiorum," ii. 7. [252] Gunkel, op. cit., 32. sq.; Robertson, "Pagan Christs," 135 sq. [253] Op. cit., v. 6 sq. [254] Rev. xxi. 23. [255] Hatch, "The Influence of Greek Ideas and Usages upon the Christian Church," Hibbert Lectures, 1888, 300. [256] John i. 7, 12; ix. 5; xii. 36, 46. [257] Sepp., i. 353. [258] Burnouf, op. cit., 186 sq. [259] Cf., for example, F. X. Kraus, "Geschichte d. christl. Kunst," i. 105. [260] "Hist. Rom.," i. 26. [261] Cf. Zöckler, "Das Kreuz Christi," 1875, 62 sqq.; Hochart, "Études d'histoire religieuse," 1890, chap, x., "La crucifix." [262] Aringhi, "Roma subterranea," vi. ch. 23, "De Cervo." [263] Cf. on the other hand Justin, "Apol.," i. 35. [264] Esther v. 14, vii. 10. [265] Cf. the picture of Marsyas hanging upon a tree-trunk in the collection of antiquities at Karlsruhe; also the illustrations in P. Schmidt, "Die Geschichte Jesu, erläutert," 1904. [266] Movers, op. cit., 687; Nork, "Reallexikon," ii. 122 sq.; Frazer, "Adonis, Attis, Osiris," 185 sq. [267] Rev. ii. 7, xxii. 2. [268] lxvi. 19. [269] ix. 3, 4. [270] Exod. xvii. 10 sqq. [271] For particulars see Zöckler, op. cit., 7 sqq.; also Hochart, op. cit., chap, viii., "Le symbole de la croix"; G. de Mortillet, "Le signe de la croix avant le christianisme," 1866; Mourant Brock, "La croix payenne et chrétienne," 1881; Goblet d'Alviella, "La migration des symboles," 1891. [272] Henry Petersen, "Über den Gottesdienst u. den Götterglauben des Nordens während der Heidenzeit," 1882, 39 sqq. 95 sqq. [273] Zöckler, op. cit., 21 sqq. [274] Winckler, "Die babyl. Geisteskultur," 82. [275] Tertullian, "Contra Haereses," 40. [276] Burnouf, op. cit., 240. [277] Goblet d'Alviella, op. cit., 61. sqq. Cf. also Ludw. Müller, "Det saakaldte Hagekors Anvendelse og Betydning i Oldtiden," 1877. [278] Op. cit., 296. [279] One feels the words of Revelation quoted above brought to his mind: "And madest them to be unto our God a kingdom and priests; and they reign upon the earth!" [280] "De errore profanae religionis," i. 5. [281] Op. cit., § 48. [282] "Apolog.," i. ch. 60. [283] III. 12, vii. 3 sqq., ix. 4, xiv. 1, xx. 4, xxii. 4. [284] Gal. vi. 17; Ephes. i. 13 sq. [285] Mourant Brock, op. cit., 177 sqq., 178 sqq. [286] So also in Tertullian when, with reference to the passage of Ezekiel above quoted (ix. 5), he describes the Greek letter Tau as "our [the Christians'] kind of cross" (nostra species crucis), not because it had the shape of the gibbet upon which Jesus is supposed to have died, but because it represented the seal or sign upon the inhabitants of the New Jerusalem ("Contra Marcionem," iii. 22). And when in the same work (iii. 18) he explains the horns of the "unicorn" (ox?) mentioned in the Blessing of Moses (Deut. xxxiii. 17) as the two arms of the cross, this happens only for the reason that the sign of union and uplifting and the gibbet became commingled in his fancy into the one and the same form (cf. also "Adv. Judaeos," 10, and Justin, "Dial.," 91; also Hochart, op. cit., 365-369). [287] Zöckler, op. cit., 14 sq. [288] Frazer, "Adonis, Attis, Osiris," 174 sq., 276 sqq. [289] Cf. on the whole subject Hochart, op. cit., 359 sqq.; P. Schmidt, "Gesch. Jesu," 386-394. In spite of all his efforts Zöckler has not succeeded in proving that Jesus was nailed to a piece of wood having the form of a four-armed cross. The assertion that this form of gibbet was borrowed by the Romans from the Carthaginians, and was the usual one in late pre-Christian days, is simply a figment of the imagination. All passages usually brought forward in support of this traditional view either prove nothing, as the appeal to Luke xxiv. 39, John xx. 20 and 25, or they refer to the symbol, not to the gibbet of the cross, and consequently cannot serve to support the usual view of the matter (Zöckler, op. cit., especially 78; 431 sqq.). [290] "Geschichte der christlichen Kunst," 174. [291] Cf. Detzel, "Christl. Ikonographie," 1894, 392 sqq.; Hochart, op. cit., 378 sqq. [292] Moreover, the so-called Flabellum, the fan, which in the early Christian pictures of the birth of Christ a servant holds before the child, shows the connection of the Christ Cult and that of Agni. This fan, which was in use in divine service of the Western Church as late as the fourteenth century, cannot be for the driving away of insects or for cooling purposes, as is usually considered, for this would obviously be in contradiction to the "winter" birth of the Saviour. It refers to the fanning of the divine spark in the ancient Indian fire-worship. In this sense it has been retained until the present day in the Greek and Armenian rites, in which during the Mass the fan is waved to and fro over the altar. A synopsis of all the facts and illustrations bearing on the matter are to be found in A. Malvert's "Wissenschaft und Religion," 1904. [293] Of course the "Acts of the Apostles" is, and remains in spite of all modern attempts at vindication (Harnack), a very untrustworthy historical document, and the information it gives as to Paul's life is for the most part mere fiction. We need not go so far as Jensen, who disputes the existence at any time of an historical Paul ("Moses, Jesus, Paulus. Drei Sagenvarianten des babylonischen Gottmenschen Gilgamesch," 2 Aufl., 1909), but will nevertheless not be able to avoid the view that the description of Paul, as Bruno Bauer has already shown, represents an original, in any case very much worked over, and in the opinion of many only a copy of the original, which preceded it in the portrayal of the "chief of the apostles," Peter (cf., on the historical value of the Acts, also E. Zeller, "Die Apg. nach ihrem Inhalt und Ursprung kritisch untersucht," 1854). [294] Cf. H. Jordan, "Jesus und die modernen Jesusbilder. Bibl. Zeit- u. Streitfragen," 1909, 36. [295] "To create authors who have never written a letter, to forge whole series of books, to date the most recent production back into grey antiquity, to cause the well-known philosophers to utter opinions diametrically opposed to their real views, these and similar things were quite common during the last century before and the first after Christ. People cared little at that time about the author of a work, if only its contents were in harmony with the taste and needs of the age" (E. Zeller, "Vorträge u. Abhdlg.," 1865, 298 sq.). "It was at that time a favourite practice to write letters for famous men. A collection of not less than 148 letters was attributed to the tyrant Phalaris, who ruled Agrigentum in the sixth century B.C. Beyschlag has proved that they were ascribed to him in the time of Antoninus. Similarly the letters attributed to Plato, to Euripides and others, are spurious. It would have been indeed strange if this custom of the age had not gained an influence over the growing Christian literature, for such forgery would be produced most easily in the religious sphere, since it was here not a question of producing particular thoughts, but of being an organ of the common religious spirit working in the individual" (Steck, op. cit., 384 sq.; cf. also Holtzmann, "Einl. in das N.T.," 2 Aufl., 223 sqq.). [296] E. Vischer, "Die Paulusbriefe, Rel. Volksb.," 1904, 69 sq. [297] Op. cit., ix. 3 sqq. [298] 1 Cor. xv. 5 sqq. [299] Cf. W. Seufert, "Der Ursprung und die Bedeutung des Apostolates in der christlichen Kirche der ersten Jahrhunderte," 1887, 46, 157. [300] An attempt is now being made to prove the contrary, citing 2 Cor. v. 16, which runs: "Wherefore we henceforth know no man after the flesh: even though we have known Christ after the flesh, yet now we know him so no more." The passage has been most differently explained. According to Baur the "Christ after the flesh" refers to the Jewish Messiah, the expected king and earthly Saviour of the Jews from political and social distress, in whom even Paul believed at an earlier date; and the meaning of the passage quoted is that this sensuous and earthly conception of the Messiah had given place in him to the spiritual conception ("Die Christuspartei in der kor. Gemeinde Tüb. Ztschr.," 1831, 4 Heft, 90). According to Heinrici the "even though we have known" is not a positive assertion of a point of view which had once determined his judgment of Christ, but a hypothetical instance, which excludes a false point of view without asserting anything as to its actuality ("Komment," 289). According to Beyschlag the passage is to be understood as asserting that Paul had seen Jesus at Jerusalem during his life on earth. But with Paul there is no talk of a mere seeing, but rather of a knowing. Lütgert disproves all these different hypotheses with the argument that the words "after the flesh" refer not to Christ but to the verb. "The apostle no longer knows any one 'after the flesh,' and so he no longer knows Jesus thus. At an earlier stage his knowledge of Christ was 'after the flesh.' At that time he did not have the spirit of God which made him able to see in Jesus the Son of God. Paul then is not protecting himself from the Jews, who denied him a personal knowledge of Jesus, but from the Pneumatics, who denied him a pneumatic knowledge of Jesus" ("Freiheitspredigt und Schwarmgeister in Korinth," 1908, 55-58). [301] Gal. i. 11, 12; 1 Cor. ii. 10; 2 Cor. iv. 6. [302] Gal. i. 17-19. [303] Gal. ii. 1 sqq. [304] Id. i. 19. [305] Matt. xxviii. 10; Mark xiii. 33 sqq.; John xx. 17. [306] In the opinion of the Dutch school of theologians, whom Schläger follows in his essay, "Das Wort kürios (Herr) in Seiner Bezichung auf Gott oder Jesus Christus" ("Theol. Tijdschrift," 33, 1899, Part I.), this mention of the "Brother of the Lord" does not come from Paul; as according to Schläger, all the passages in 1 Cor., which speak of Jesus under the title "Kurios," are interpolated. "Missionary travels of Brothers of Jesus are unknown to us from any other quarter, and are also in themselves improbable" (op. cit., 46; cf. also Steck, op. cit., 272 sq.). [307] Similarly Origen, "Contra Celsum," i. 35; cf. Smith, op. cit., 18 sq. [308] Cf. as to this Sieffert in "Realenzyklop. f. prot. Theol. und Kirche" under "James." In Ezr. ii. 2 and 9 there is also mention of "Brothers" of the High Priest Joshua, by which only the priests subordinate to him seem to be meant; and in Justin ("Dial c. Tryph.," 106) the apostles are collectively spoken of as "Brothers of Jesus." Similarly in Rev. xii. 17, those "who keep the word of God and bear testimony to Jesus Christ" are spoken of as children of the heavenly woman and also as Brothers and Sisters of the Divine Redeemer, whom the dragon attempts to swallow up together with his mother. As Revelation owes its origin to a pre-Christian Jesus-cult, the designation of pious brothers of a community as physical brothers of Jesus seems also to have been customary in that cult, antecedent to the Pauline epistles and the Gospels. [309] This is actually the view of the Dutch school of theologians. [310] A. Kalthoff, "Was wissen wir von Jesus? Eine Abrechnung mit Prof. D. Bousset," 1904, 17. [311] 1 Cor. vii. 10. [312] Id. ix. 14. [313] 1 Cor. xi. 23. [314] Cf. Brandt, "Die evangel. Geschichte u. d. Ursprung d. Christentums," 1893, 296. Schläger also agrees with the Dutch school, and produces telling arguments in favour of the view that 1 Cor. xi. 23-32 is an interpolation. "In our opinion," he says, "the opening words, 'For I received of the Lord,' betray the same attempt as can be seen in vii. 10 and ix. 14--and probably the attempt of one and the same interpolator--to trace back Church institutions and regulations to the authority of the Lord, of the Kurios. In the three cases in which the latter is mentioned he is called 'the Lord,' which is a fact well worthy of consideration in view of the usual designation." Schläger also shows that verse 32 is a very appropriate conclusion to verse 22; while as they stand now the logical connection is broken in a forcible manner by the interpolation of the account of the Last Supper. Another proof of the interpolation of 23-32 is to be found, Schläger thinks, in the fact that in verse 33 as in verse 22 the Corinthians are addressed in the second person, while in verses 31 and 32 the first person plural is used (op. cit., 41 sq.). In view of these notorious facts we can hardly understand how German theologians can with such decision adhere to the authenticity of the passage, reproaching those who contest it with "faults in method." As against this view of theirs Schläger justly objects that "References to words and events from the life of Jesus are so isolated in the Pauline writings that we are entitled to and forced to raise the question as to each such reference, whether it is not the reflection of a later age, of an age which already placed confidence in the Gospel literature, that brought Jesus' authority into the text" (Schläger, op. cit., 36). And the critical theologians are convinced that the writings of the New Testament are worked over to a great extent, rectified to accord with the Church, and in many places interpolated. But when some one else brings this to publicity, and dares to doubt the authenticity of a passage, they immediately raise a great outcry, and accuse him of wilfully misrepresenting the text; as if there were even one single such passage on which the views of critics are not divergent! [315] M. Brückner's opinion also is "that the Pauline account of the scene at the Last Supper is in all probability not a purely historical one, but is a dogmatic representation of the festival." And he adds: "In any case just on account of its religious importance this scene cannot be cited to prove Paul's acquaintance with the details of Jesus' life" ("Die Entstehung der paulinischen Christologie," 1903, 44). Cf. also Robertson, "Christianity and Mythology," 388 sq. [316] Holtzmann has, as a matter of fact, in an essay in the "Christliche Welt" (No. 7, 1910) recently attempted to prove the contrary, citing from Paul a number of moral exhortations, &c., which are in accord with Jesus' words in the Gospels. But in this argument there is a presupposition, which should surely be previously proved, that the Gospels received their corresponding content from Jesus and not, on the contrary, from Paul's epistles. It is admitted that they were in many other respects influenced by Pauline ideas. Moreover, all the moral maxims cited have their parallels in contemporary Rabbinical literature, so that they need not necessarily be referred back to an historical Jesus; also, such is their nature, that they might be advanced by any one, i.e., they are mere ethical commonplaces without any individual colouring. Thus we find the Rabbis in agreement with Rom. xiii. 8 sq. and Gal. v. 14, which Holtzmann traces back to Matt. vii. 12: "Bring not on thy neighbour that which displeases thee; this is our whole doctrine." Rom. xiii. 7 has its parallel not only in Matt. xxii. 21, but also in the Talmud, which runs: "Every one is bound to fulfil his obligations to God with the like exactness as those to men. Give to God his due; for all that thou hast is from him." Rom. xii. 21 runs in the Sanhedrin: "It is better to be persecuted than to persecute, better to be calumniated by another than to slander." So that the remark need not necessarily be based on Matt. v. 39; in fact, the last-named passage is not found at all in the standard MSS., in the Codex Sinaiticus and Vaticanus. The phrase, "to remove mountains" (1 Cor. xiii. 2). is a general Rabbinical one for extolling the power of a teacher's diction, and so could easily be transferred to the power of faith. So also the phrase, Mark ix. 50, "Have salt in yourselves, and be at peace one with another"--which Rom. xii. 18 is supposed to resemble--is a well-known Rabbinical expression. Matt. v. 39 sq., which is supposed to accord with 1 Cor. vi. 7, runs in the Talmud: "If any one desires thy donkey, give him also the saddle." Matt. vii. 1-5, on which Rom. ii. 1 and xiv. 4 are supposed to be based, equally recalls the Talmud: "Who thinks favourably of his neighbour brings it about that fair judgments are also made of him." "Let your judgment of your neighbour be completely good." "Even as one measures, with the same measure shall it also be measured unto him." Rom. xiv. 13 and 1 Cor. viii. 7-13 need not necessarily be an allusion to Jesus' tender consideration for those who are ruined by scandal, as we find in the Talmud: "It would have been better that the evil-minded had been born blind, so that they would not have brought evil into the world" (cf. also Nork, "Rabbinische Quellen und Parallelen zu neutestamentlichen Schriftstellen," 1839). And does Paul's usual phrase of greeting, "from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ," really contain the avowal of the "Father-God" preached by Christ? For the connection of the divine Son and bearer of salvation with the "Father-God" is a general mythological formula which occurs in all the different religions--witness the relation between Marduk and Ea, Heracles and Zeus, Mithras and Ormuzd, Balder and Odin. What then does it mean when Paul speaks of the "meekness and humility of Christ," who lived not for his own pleasure, who made no fame for himself, but was "submissive," assumed the form of a servant, and was "obedient" to the will of his "father," even to the death of the cross? All these traits are reproduced directly from the description of the suffering servant of God in Isaiah, which we know had a great part in shaping the personality of Jesus. Meekness, humility, charitableness, and obedience are the specific virtues of the pious of Paul's time. It was a matter of course for Christ also, the ideal prototype of good and pious men, to be endowed with these characteristics. Abraham was obedient when he sacrificed his son Isaac; and so was the latter to his father, being also submissive in himself bringing the wood to the altar and giving himself up willingly to the sacrificial knife. And we know what a significant rôle the story of Isaac's sacrifice has always played in the religious ideas of the Jews. Moreover, the heathen redeemer deities--Marduk, of the Mandaic Hibil Ziwâ, Mithras and Heracles--were also obedient in coming down upon earth at the bidding of their heavenly father, burst the gates of death, and gave themselves up, in the case of Mithras, even to be sacrificed; and Heracles served mankind in the position of a servant, fought with the monsters and horrors of hell, and assumed the hardest tasks at the will of others. [317] Kalthoff, "Die Entstehung d. Christentums," 1904, 15. [318] P. Wernle, "Die Quellen des Lebens Jesu, Religionsgesch. Volksbücher," 2 Aufl., 4. [319] Gunkel, op. cit., 93. [320] Gunkel also takes the view "that before Jesus there was a belief in Christ's death and resurrection current in Jewish syncretic circles (op. cit., 82). Now we have already seen (p. 57) that the term "Christ" is of very similar significance to "Jesus." So that it is not at all necessary to believe, as Gunkel asserted in the Darmstadt discussion, that Paul in speaking of "Jesus" testifies to an historical figure, because Jesus is the name of a person. "Jesus Christ" is simply a double expression for one and the same idea--that is, for the idea of the Messiah, Saviour, Physician, and Redeemer; and it is not at all improbable, as Smith supposes, that the contradictions in the conception of the Messiah in two different sects or spheres of thought found their settlement in the juxtaposition of the two names. [321] "Not the teacher, not the miracle-worker, not the friend of the publicans and sinners, not the opponent of the Pharisees, is of importance for Paul. It is the crucified and risen Son of God alone" (Wernle, op. cit., 5). [322] "Indeed, the historical Jesus in the sense of the Ritschlian school would have been for Paul an absurdity. The Pauline theology has to do rather with the experiences of a heavenly being, which have, and will yet have, extraordinary significance for humanity" (M. Brückner, "Die Entstehung der paulinischen Christologie," 1903, 12). Brückner also considers it settled "that Jesus' life on earth had no interest at all for Paul" (op. cit., 46). "Paul did not trouble himself about Jesus' life on earth, and what he may here and there have learnt concerning it, with few exceptions, remained indifferent to him" (42). Brückner also shows that the passages which are cited to contradict this prove nothing as to Paul's more detailed acquaintance with Jesus' life on earth (41 sqq.). He claims "to have given the historical demonstration" in his work "that the Christian religion is at bottom independent of 'uncertain historical truths'" (Preface). And in spite of this he cannot as a theologian free himself from the conception of an historical Jesus even with regard to Paul, though he is, nevertheless, not in a position to show where and to what extent the historical Jesus had a really decided influence over Paul. [323] Movers, op. cit., 438 sqq.; Fraser, "Adonis, Attis, Osiris," 42, 43, 47, 60, 79 sq. [324] Cumont, "Textes et monuments," &c., i. 240; Pfleiderer, "Urchristentum," i. 29 sqq. [325] 1 Cor. x. 16. [326] Pfleiderer, op. cit., 45. [327] xi. 19 sqq. [328] Smith, op. cit., 21 sq. [329] Cf. Zimmern, "Zum Streit um die Christusmythe," 23. [330] "I am the A and the O, the beginning and the end," the Revelation of John makes the Messiah say (i. 8.). Is there not at the same time in this a concealed reference to Adonis? The Alpha and the Omega, the first and last letters of the Greek alphabet, form together the name of Adonis--Ao (Aoos) as the old Dorians called the God, whence Cilicia is also called Aoa. A son of Adonis and Aphrodite (Maia) is said ("Schol. Theocr.," 15, 100) to have been called Golgos. His name is connected with the phallic cones (Greek, golgoi), as they were erected on heights in honour of the mother divinities of Western Asia, who were themselves, probably on this account, called Golgoi and golgon anássa (Queens of the Golgoi), and is the same as the Hebraic plural Golgotha (Sepp, "Heidentum," i. 157 sq.). Finally, was the "place of skulls" an old Jebusite place of worship of Adonis under the name of Golgos, and was the cone of rock, on which statue of Venus was erected in the time of Hadrian, selected for the place of execution of the Christian Saviour because it was connected with the remembrance of the real sacrifice of a man in the rôle of Adonis (Tammuz)? [331] Deut. xxi. 23. [332] We notice that already in these distinctions the germs of those endless and absurd disputes concerning the "nature" of the God-man lie concealed, which later, in the first century A.D., tore Christendom into countless sects and "heresies," and which gave the occasion for the rise of the Christian dogma. [333] Rom. i. 3. [334] Rom. viii. 3; 2 Cor. viii. 9; Phil. ii. 7 sq. [335] Gal. iii. 10 sqq.; Rom. iii. 9. [336] Rom. iii. 20, iv. 15, v. 20, vii., sqq. [337] Gal. iii. 19 sqq. [338] Rom. vi. 9 sq. [339] Id. v. 14. [340] Rom. iv. 3 sqq. [341] Rom. vi. 3 sqq. [342] Gal. iii. 27. [343] Cf. above, p. 137. [344] 1 Cor. x. 16 sqq., xi. 23-27. [345] 1 Cor. x. 3 sqq., 16-21. [346] Cf., e.g., Pfleiderer, op. cit., 333. [347] Cf. above, p. 49 sqq. [348] Plato, "Symposium," c. 22. [349] Col. ii. 9. [350] Op. cit., 80. [351] Cf. my work, "Plotin und der Untergang der antiken Weltanschauung," 1907. [352] Gal. ii. 20; Rom. viii. 4, 26. [353] Id. viii. 14 sqq. [354] 2 Cor. iii. 17. [355] Gal. v. 26. [356] 1 Cor. ii. 9, 14; Rom. xii. 2. [357] Op. cit., 86. [358] Wrede, Id. [359] Id. [360] Op. cit., 94. [361] Wrede, op. cit., 85. [362] 1 Cor. xv. 17. [363] Cf. as to the whole question my essay on "Paulus u. Jesus" ("Das Freie Wort" of December, 1909). [364] It is true that other theologians think differently on this point, as, e.g., Feine in his book, "Jesus Christus und Paulus" (1902), declares that Paul had "interested himself very much in gaining a distinct and comprehensive picture of Jesus' activity and personality" (!) (229). [365] Kalthoff has in his writings laid especial stress on this social significance of Christianity. Cf. also Steudel, "Das Christentum und die Zukunft des Protestantismus" ("Deutsche Wiedergeburt," iv., 1909, 26 sq.), and Kautsky, "Der Ursprung des Christentums," 1908. [366] xl. 26. [367] In the same way Vollers also, in his work on "Die Weltreligionen" (1907), seeks to explain the faith of the original Christian sects in Jesus' death and resurrection as a blend of the Adonis (Attis) and Christ faiths. He regards this as the essence of that faith, that the existing views of the Messiah and the Resurrection were transferred to one and the same person; and shows from this of what great importance it must be that this faith met a well-prepared ground, in North Syria, Anatolia, and Egypt, where it naturally spread. But he treats the Jewish Diaspora of these lands as the natural mediator of the new preaching or "message of Salvation" (Gospel), and finds a proof of his view in this, "that the sphere of the greatest density of the Diaspora almost completely coincides with those lands where the growing and rising youthful God was honoured, and that these same districts are also the places in which we meet, only a generation after Jesus' death, the most numerous, flourishing, and fruitful communities of the new form of belief." It is the Eastern Mediterranean or Levantine horse-shoe shaped line which stretches from Ephesus and Bithynia through Anatolia to Tarsus and Antioch, thence through Syria and Palestine by way of the cult-centres Bubastes and Sais to Alexandria. Almost directly in the middle of these lands lies Aphaka, where was the chief sanctuary of the "Lord" Adonis, and a little south of this spot lies the country where the Saviour of the Gospels was born (op. cit., 152). [368] Cf. O. Pfleiderer, "Die Entstehung des Christentums," 1905, 109 sqq. [369] Luke xxiv. 33, xlix. 52; Acts i. 4, 8, 12 sqq. [370] "Religionsgesch. Erklärung d. N.T.," 261. Cf. also Joel iii. 1 and Isa. xxviii. 11, and the Buddhist account of the first sermon of Buddha: "Gods and men streamed up to him, and all listened breathlessly to the words of the teacher. Each of the countless listeners believed that the wise man looked at him and spoke to him in his own language; though it was the dialect of Magadha which he spoke." Seydel, "Evangelium von Jesus," 248; "Buddha-Legende," 92 sq. [371] Stephen's so-called "martyrdom," whose feast falls on December 26th, the day after the birth of Christ, owes its existence to astrology, and rests on the constellation of Corona (Gr., Stephanos), which becomes visible at this time on the eastern horizon (Dupuis, op. cit., 267). Hence the well-known phrase "to inherit the martyr's crown." Even the theologian Baur has found it strange that the Jewish Sanhedrin, which could not carry into effect any death sentence without the assent of the Roman governor, should completely set aside this formality in the case of Stephen; and he has clearly shown how the whole account of Stephen's martyrdom is paralleled with Christ's death (Baur, "Paulus," 25 sqq.). [372] Smith, op. cit., 23-31. [373] Frazer, "Golden Bough," iii. 197. [374] Smith, op. cit., 30 sq. [375] As to the small value of Papias' statement, cf. Gfrörer, "Die heilige Sage," 1838, i. 3-23; also Lützelberger, "Die kirchl. Tradition über den Apostel Johannes," 76-93. The whole story, according to which Mark received the essential content of the Gospel named after him from Peter, is based on 1 Peter v. 13, and merely serves the purpose of increasing the historical value of the Gospel of Mark. "As the first Gospel was believed to be the work of the Apostle Matthew, and the second (Luke) the work of an assistant of Paul, it was very easy to ascribe to the third (Mark) at least a similar origin as the second, i.e., to trace it back in an analogous way to Peter; as it would have seemed natural for the chief of the apostles, longest dead, to have had his own Gospel, one dedicated to him, as well as Paul. The passage 1 Peter v. 13, "My son Mark saluteth you," gave a suitable opportunity for bestowing a name on the book," (Gfrörer, op. cit., 15; cf. also Brandt, "Die evangelische Geschichte u. d. Ursprung des Christentums," 1893, 535 sq.) [376] Op. cit., 58. [377] xv. 39. [378] 60. [379] Id. [380] The proper explanation for this should lie in the fact that the Jesus-faith was set up as a sect-faith and not for "outsiders." [381] 63 sqq. [382] 68. [383] 70. [384] 3. [385] It strikes the reader, who stands apart from the controversy, as comical to find the matter characterised in the theological works on the subject as "undoubtedly historical," "distinct historical fact," "true account of history," and so forth; and to consider that what holds for one as "historically certain" is set aside by another as "quite certainly unhistorical." Where is the famous "method" of which the "critical" theologians are so proud in opposition to the "laity," who allow themselves to form judgments as to the historical worth or worthlessness of the Gospels? [386] Wrede, op. cit., 91. [387] 104. [388] 129. [389] 131. [390] 148. [391] 148. [392] Cf. Pfleiderer, "Entstehung des Christentums," 207, 213. All estimates as to the time at which the Gospels were produced rest entirely on suppositions, in which points of view quite different from that of purely historical interest generally predominate. Thus it has been the custom on the Catholic side to pronounce, not Mark or Luke, but Matthew, to be the oldest source. "Proofs" for this are also given--naturally, as it is indeed the "Church" Gospel: it contains the famous passage (xvi. 18, 19) about Peter's possession of the keys; how, then, should this not be the oldest? And lately Harnack ("Beiträge zur Einl. in das N.T.," iii., "Die Apostelgeschichte," 1908) has tried to prove that the Acts, with the Gospel of Luke, had been already produced in the early part of the year 60 A.D. But he does not dare to come to a real decision; and his reasons are opposed by just as weighty ones which are against that "possibility" suggested by him (op. cit., 219 sqq.). Such is, first, the fact that all the other early Christian writings which belong to the first century, as the Epistle of Barnabas and the Shepherd of Hermas, evidently know nothing of them. In the Epistle of Barnabas, written about 96 A.D., we read that Jesus chose as his own apostles, as men who were to proclaim his Gospel, "of all men the most evil, to show that he had come to call, not the righteous, but sinners, to repentance" (iv.). As to this Lützelberger very justly remarks, "That is more even than our Gospels say. For these are content to prove that Jesus did not come for the righteous by saying that he ate with publicans and was anointed by women of evil life; while in this Epistle even the Apostles must be most wicked sinners, so that grace may shine forth to them. This passage was quite certainly written neither by an Apostle nor by a pupil of an Apostle; and also it was not written after our Gospels, but at a time when the learned Masters of the Church had still a free hand to show their spirit and ingenuity in giving form to the evangelical story" ("Die hist. Tradition," 236 sq.). But also the so-called Epistle of Clement, which must have been written at about the same time, is completely silent as to the Gospels, while the "Doctrine of the Twelve Apostles," which perhaps also belongs to the end of the first century, cites Christ's words, such as stand in the Gospels, but not as sayings of Jesus. Moreover, according to Harnack, the "Doctrine of the Twelve Apostles" is the Christian elaboration of an early Jewish document; whence we may conclude that its Words of Christ have a similar origin in Jewish thought to that from which the Gospels obtained them. (Cf. Lützelberger, op. cit., 259-271.) [393] 81. [394] 71. [395] 81 sq. [396] Id. [397] The laity has, as is well known, but a slight suspicion of this. So S. E. Verus' "Vergleichende Übersicht der vier Evangelien" (1897), with the commentary, is to be recommended. [398] 83. [399] 83. [400] 85 sq. [401] "Jesus u. d. neutestamentl. Schriftsteller," ii. 43. Let us take the final paragraph in E. Petersen's "Die wunderbare Geburt des Heilandes," which reaches the zenith in proving the mythical nature of the evangelical account of the Saviour's birth: "If, not because we wish it, but because we are forced to do so by the necessity of History, we remove the sentence, 'Conceived of the Holy Ghost, born of the Virgin Mary'--Jesus nevertheless remains the 'Son of God.' He remains such because he experienced God as his father, and because he stands at God's side for us. Also, in spite of our setting aside the miraculous birth as unhistorical, we are quite justified in declaring 'Thou art Christ, the Son of the living God.'" M. Brückner speaks similarly at the close of his otherwise excellent work. "Der sterbende und auferstehende Gottheiland." For the person to whom such phraseology is not--futile, there is no help. [402] Cf. "Jesus Christus," a course of lectures delivered at the University of Freiburg i. B., 1908. [403] Schäfer, "Die Evangelien und die Evangelienkritik," 1908, 123. The story of the Church's development in the first century is a story of shameless literary falsifications, of rough violence in matters of faith, of unlimited trial of the credence of the masses. So that for those who know history the iteration of the "credibility" of the Christian writers of the age raises at most but an ironical smile. Cf. Robertson, "History of Christianity," 1910. [404] Cf. Hochart, "Études au sujet de la persécution des Chrétiens sous Néron," 1885, cp. 4. [405] A. Kalthoff, "Das Christusproblem, Grundzüge zu einer Sozialtheologie," 1902, 14 sq. [406] Kalthoff, "Die Entstehung des Christentums: Neue Beiträge zum Christusproblem," 1904, 8. [407] If v. Soden ("Hat Jesus gelebt?" vii. 45) has proved wrong the comparison with the Tell-legend, and thinks I have "probably once more" forgotten that Schiller first transformed a very meagre legend, which was bound up in a single incident, from grey antiquity into a living picture, he can know neither Tschudi nor J. v. Müller. Cf. Hertslet, "Der Treppenwitz der Weltgeschichte," 6 Aufl., 1905, 216 sqq. [408] The passage runs: "At this time lived Jesus, a wise man, if he may be called a man, for he accomplished miracles and was a teacher of men who joyously embrace the truth, and he found a great following among Jews and Greeks. This one was the Christ. Although at the accusation of the leading men of our people Pilate sentenced him to the cross, those who had first loved him remained still faithful. For he appeared again to them on the third day, risen again to a new life, as the prophets of God had foretold of him, with a thousand other prophecies. After him are called the Christians, whose sect has not come to an end." [409] "Einl. ins N.T.," 1836, 581. [410] "Gesch. d. jüd. Volkes," i. 548. [411] Origen, though he collected all Josephus' assertions which could serve as support to the Christian religion, does not know the passage, but probably another, in which the destruction of Jerusalem was represented as a punishment for James' execution, which is certainly a forgery. [412] Cf. Kalthoff, "Entstehung d. Chr.," 16 sq. As to the whole matter, Schürer, op. cit., 544-549. [413] V. Soden proves the contrary in his work, "Hat Jesus gelebt?" (1910), "in order to show the reliability of Drew's assertions," from Clement's letter of 96 A.D., from Dionysius of Corinth (about 170) from Tertullion and Eusebius (early fourth century, not third, as v. Soden writes); and wishes to persuade his readers that the persecution under Nero is testified to. The authenticity of the letter of Clement is, however, quite uncertain, and has been most actively combated, from its first publication in 1633 till the present day, by investigators of repute, such as Semler, Baur, Schwegler, Volkmar, Keim, &c. But as for the above-cited authors, the unimportance of their assertions on the point is so strikingly exhibited by Hochart that we have no right to call them up as witnesses for the authenticity of the passage of Tacitus. [414] Cf. Hochart, op. cit., 280 sqq.; H. Schiller, "Gesch. d. röm. Kaiserzeit," 447, note. [415] "Consulting the archives has been but little customary among ancient historians; and Tacitus has bestowed but little consideration on the Acta Diurna and the protocols of the Senate" ("Handb. d. klass. Altertumsw.," viii., 2 Abt., Aft. 2, under "Tacitus"). Moreover, the difficulties of the passage from Tacitus have been fully realised by German historians (H. Schiller, op. cit., 449; "De. Gesch. d. röm. Kaiserreiches unter der Regierung des Nero," 1872, 434 sqq., 583 sq.), even if they do not generally go as far as to say that the passage is completely unauthentic, as Volney did at the end of the eighteenth century ("Ruinen," Reclam, 276). Cf. also Arnold, "Die neronische Christenverfolgung. Eine historiche Untersuchung zur Geschichte d. ältesten Kirche," 1888. The author does indeed adhere to the authenticity of the passage in Tacitus, but as a matter of fact he presupposes it rather than attempts to prove it; while in many isolated reflections he gives an opinion against the correctness of the account given by Tacitus, and busies himself principally in disproving false inferences connected with that passage, such as the connection of the Neronic persecution with the Book of Revelation. The conceivable possibility that the persecution actually took place, but that at all events the sentence of Tacitus may be a Christian interpolation, Arnold seems never to have considered. [416] Op. cit., 227. [417] Kalthoff, "Christusproblem," 17. [418] Weinel, "Jesus im 19 Jahrhundert," 1907, 68. [419] "Babylonisches im Neuen Testament," 109 sq. [420] "Zerduscht Nameh," ch. xxvi. [421] Gfrörer, "Jahrhundert des Heils," Part II., 380 sqq. [422] Luke iii. 23. [423] Numb. iv. 3. [424] Matt. xxi. 12 sqq. [425] Zech. xiv. 21 runs in the Targum translation: "Every vessel in Jerusalem will be consecrated to the Lord, &c., and at that time there will no longer be shopkeepers in the House of the Lord." In this there may have been a further inducement for the Evangelists to state that Jesus chases the tradesmen from the Temple. [426] 2 Sam. xvii. 23; cf. also Zech. xi. 12 sq.; Psa. xli. 10. [427] Gfrörer, "Jahr. d. Heils," ii. 318 sqq. [428] Cf. 1 Cor. x. 1 sq. [429] 2 Kings iv. 19 sqq. [430] Numb. i. 44; Jos. iii. 12; iv. 1 sqq. Cf. "Petrus-legende," 51 sq. [431] Cf. p. 127, note. [432] Josephus, "Antiq.," iv. 8, 48; Philo, "Vita Mos.," iii. [433] 2 Kings ii. 11. [434] E.g. also the account of the arrest of Jesus (Matt. xxvi. 51 sqq.) cf. 2 Kings vi. 10-22. [435] Matt. ix. 11 sq., xii. 8 sq., xv. 1 sqq., 11 and 20, xxviii. 18. [436] Psa. cxlvi. 7. [437] Bereshith Rabba zu Gen. xli. 1. [438] Cf. esp. Acts xi. 2 sqq. [439] Matt. v. 17 sqq. [440] Id. viii. 11 sqq., x. 5, xxiii. 34 sqq., xxviii. 19 sqq. [441] Cf. Lützelberger, "Jesus, was er war und wollte," 1842, 16 sqq. [442] Cf. above, 59 sqq. [443] It is given as a reason for his appearing first in Galilee that the Galileans were first led into exile, and so should first be comforted, as all divine action conforms to the law of requital (Gfrörer, "Jahr. d. Heils," 230 sq. Cf. also Isa. viii. 23). [444] Cf. above, 173 sq. [445] See above, 171. [446] Exod. xvi. 17 sqq.; Numb. xxi. 1 sqq.; Exod. vii. 17 sqq. 1 Kings xvii. 5 sqq. [447] "Hist.," iv. 81. [448] "Vespasian," vii. [449] lxvi. 8. [450] Isa. 1. 6 sq. [451] Zech. xii 10. [452] Cf. "Petruslegende," 24. [453] Gen. xxvi. 6; cf. also Tertullian, "Adv. Jud.," 10. [454] Cf. for this Brandt, "Die Evangelische Geschichte," esp. 53 sqq. Even such a cautious investigator as Gfrörer confesses that, after his searching examination of the historical content of the Synoptics, he is obliged to close "with the sad admission" that their testimony does not give sufficient assurance to enable us to pronounce anything they contain to be true, so far as they are concerned, with a good historical conscience. "In this it is by no means asserted that many may not think their views correct, but only that we cannot rely on them sufficiently to rest a technically correct proof on them alone. They tell us too many things which are purely legendary, and too many others which are at least suspicious, for a prudent historian to feel justified in a construction based on their word alone. This admission may be disagreeable--it is also unpleasant to me--but it is genuine, and it is demanded by the rules which hold everywhere before a good tribunal, and in the sphere of history" ("Die hl. Sage," 1838, ii. 243). [455] This is the case with the corresponding account in Mark, while in Luke the dramatic presentation seems to be more worked away, and the coherence, through the introduction of descriptions and episodes (disciples at Emmaus) bears more the character of a simple narrative. Cf. Robertson, "Pagan Christs," 186 sqq.; "A Short History," 87 sqq. The fact that in almost all representations of this kind both the scene at Gethsemane and the words spoken by Jesus usually serve as signs of his personality (e.g. also Bousset's "Jesus"--Rel. Volksb., 1904, 56), shows what we must think of the historical value of the accounts of the life of Jesus; especially when we consider that certainly no listeners were there, and Jesus cannot himself have told his experience to his disciples, as the arrest is supposed to have taken place on the spot. [456] "Messiasgeheimnis," 143. [457] Gen. xxiv. [458] E. v. Hartmann, "Das Christentum des Neuen Testaments," 1905, 22. [459] Op. cit. [460] Cf. H. Jordan, "Jesus und die modernen Jesusbilder, Bibl. Zeit- u. Streitfragen," 1909, 38. [461] Mark vi. 1 sq. [462] Mark xiii. 32. [463] Mark iii. 20. [464] 1 Kings xix.; cf. also Isa. xlii. 4. [465] Cf. Brandt, op. cit., 553 sq. [466] Hertlein treats of these Bases of Schmiedel in the "Prot. Monatsheften," 1906, 386 sq.; cf. also Schmiedel's reply. [467] Op. cit., 141. [468] Bousset agrees with this in his work "Was wissen wir von Jesus?" (1901). "Jesus' speeches are for the most part creations of the communities, placed together by the community from isolated words of Jesus." "In this, apart from all the rest, there was a powerful and decided alteration of the speeches" (47 sqq.). [469] Cf. Robertson, "Christianity and Mythology," 424 sqq., 429. [470] Op. cit., 43. [471] "Protest. Monatshefte," 1903, Märzheft. [472] Op. cit., 161 sq. [473] Matt. xviii. 15 sqq. [474] Id. xxix. 3 sqq. [475] Cf. Pfleiderer, "Urchristentum," i. 447 sq.; van den Bergh van Eysinga, op. cit., 57 sqq. [476] Smith, op. cit., 107 sqq. [477] Cf. Nork, "Rabbinische Quellen und Parallelen zu neutestamentlichen Schriftstellen," 1839. [478] Cf. Robertson, "Christianity and Mythology," 440-457. [479] Cf. v. Hartmann, op. cit., 131-143. It will always be a telling argument against the historical nature of the sayings of Jesus that Paul seems to know nothing of them, that he never refers to them exactly; and that even up to the beginning of the second century, with the exception of a few remarks in Clement and Polycarp, the Apostles and Fathers in all their admonitions, consolations, and reprimands, never make use of Jesus' sayings to give greater force to their own words. [480] V. Hartmann, op. cit., 44 sq. [481] Let us hear what Clemen says against this: "In its reduction of the Law to the Commandment of love, though this was already prominent in the Old Testament [!] and even earlier had here and there [!] been characterised as the chief Commandment, Christianity is completely original [!]. And for Jesus the subordination of religious duties to moral was consequent on this, though in this respect he would have been equally influenced by the prophets of the Old Testament" (op. cit., 135 sq.). [482] "We must (as regards the moral ideals of Jesus) pay just as much attention to what he does not treat of, to what he set aside, as to what he clung to, indeed, setting it in opposition to all the rest. At least this wonderfully sure selection is Jesus' own. We may produce analogies for each individual thing, but the whole is unique and cannot be invented" (v. Soden, op. cit., 51 sq.). This method, practised by liberal theology, of extolling their Jesus as against all other mortals, and of raising him up to a "uniqueness" in the absolute sense, can make indeed but a small impression on the impartial. [483] Wrede, "Paulus," 91. [484] We admit that besides the eschatological grounding of his moral demands, Jesus also makes use occasionally of expressions that pass beyond the idea of reward. But they are quite isolated--as, e.g., Matt. v. 48, "Be ye perfect, even as your Father in Heaven is perfect," a phrase which is, moreover, in accord with Lev. xi. 44 and xix. 3--and without any fundamental significance. In general, and in particular even in the Sermon on the Mount, that "Diamond in the Crown of Jesus' ethics," the idea of reward and punishment is prevalent (Matt. v. 12 and 46; vi. 1, 4, 6, 14, 18; v. 20; vi. 15; vii. 1, &c.). Views may still differ widely as to whether it is historically correct to estimate, as Weinel would like to, Jesus' ethics in this connection really by the few sayings which go beyond that idea. (Cf. v. Hartmann, op. cit., 116-124.) The favourite declaration, however, is quite unhistorical, that Jesus was the first who introduced into the world the principle of active love; and that the Stoics, as Weinel represents, only taught the doing away with all our passions, even that of love; or indeed that Jesus, who wished salvation only to benefit the Jews, who forbade his people to walk in the ways of the Gentiles, and who hesitated to comply with the Canaanite woman's prayer, "raised to the highest degree of sincerity" the "altruistic ideal," and that in principle he broke down the boundaries between peoples and creeds with his "Love thy enemy," (Weinel, op. cit., 55, 57). As against this cf. the following passage from Seneca: "Everything which we must do and avoid may be reduced to this short formula of human obligation: We are members of a mighty body. Nature has made us kindred, having produced us from the same stuff and for the same ends. She has implanted in us a mutual love, and has arranged it socially. She has founded right and equity. Because of her commands to do evil is worse than to suffer evil. Hands ready to aid are raised at her call. Let that verse be in our mouths and our hearts: I am a man, nothing human do I despise! Human life consists in well-doing and striving. It will be cemented into a society of general aid not by fear but by mutual love. What is the rightly constituted, good and high-minded soul, but a God living as a guest in a human body? Such a soul may appear just as well in a knight as in a freedman or in a slave. We can soar upwards to heaven from any corner. Make this your rule, to treat the lower classes even as you would wish the higher to treat you. Even if we are slaves, we may yet be free in spirit. The slaves are men, inferior relatives, friends; indeed, our fellow-slaves in a like submission to the tyranny of fate. A friendship based on virtue exists between the good man and God, yes, more than a friendship, a kinship and likeness; for the good man is really his pupil, imitator, and scion, differing from God only because of the continuance of time. Him the majestic father brings up, a little severely, as is the strict father's wont. God cherishes a fatherly affection towards the good man, and loves him dearly. If you wish to imitate the gods, give also to the ungrateful; for the sun rises even on the ungodly and the seas lie open even to the pirate, the wind blows not only in favour of the good, and the rain falls even on the fields of the unjust. If you wish to have the gods well-disposed towards you, be good: he has enough, who honours and who imitates them." Cf. also Epictetus: "Dare, raising your eyes to God, to say, Henceforth make use of me to what end thou wilt! I assent, I am thine, I draw back from nothing which thy will intends. Lead me whithersoever thou wilt! For I hold God's will to be better than mine." (Cf. also Matt. xxvi. 39.) [485] Kautsky, "Ursprung des Christentums," 17. [486] Op. cit., 3. [487] "How is it conceivable," even Pfleiderer asks, "that the new community should have fashioned itself from the chaos of material without some definite fact, some foundation-giving event which could form the nucleus for the genesis of the new ideas? Everywhere in the case of a new historical development the powers and impulses which are present in the crowd are first directed to a definite end and fastened into an organism that can survive by the purpose-giving action of heroic personalities. And so the impulse for the formation of the Christian community must have come from some definite point, which, from the testimony of the Apostle Paul and of the earliest Gospels, we can only find in the life and death of Jesus" ("Entstehung des Chr.," 11). But that the "testimony" for an historical Jesus is not testimony, and that the "definite fact," the "foundation-giving event," is to be looked for, if anywhere, in Paul himself and nowhere else--such is the central point of all this analysis. [488] Op. cit., 61 sq. [489] "Von Reimarus bis Wrede," 396. [490] ii. 44. [491] "Gesch. Israels," ii. 1 sqq. [492] Holtzmann, "Zum Thema 'Jesus und Paulus'" ("Prot. Monatsheft," iv., 1900, 465). [493] Parerga, ii. 180. [494] Neutest. Theol. ii. 4. Cf. R. H. Grützmacher: "Ist das liberale Christusbild modern? Bibl. Zeit- und Streitfragen," 39 sq. [495] Pfleiderer, "Entstehung d. Chr.," 108 sqq. [496] Cf. Stendel, op. cit., 22. [497] "Von Reimarus bis Wrede," 313. [498] Gal. i. 24. [499] 1 Cor. ii. 1; 2 Cor. xix. 9. [500] Acts i. 3, x. 41. [501] Acts i. 21 sq. [502] Seufert, "Der Ursprung und die Bedeutung des Apostolates in der christlichen Kirche der ersten Jahrhunderte," 1887, 143. Cf. also my "Petruslegende," in which the unhistorical nature of the disciples and apostles is shown, 50 sqq. [503] Op. cit., 42. [504] Cf. my work "Die Petruslegende." [505] Cf. Hausrath, "Jesus und die neutestamentl. Schriftsteller," ii. 203 sqq. [506] "Entstehung d. Chr.," 239. [507] Cf. above, p. 31. sqq. [508] Cf. Arnold Meyer, "Was uns Jesus heute ist. Rel. Volksb.," 1907--a very impressive presentation of the liberal Protestant point of view; also Weinel, "Jesus im 19ten Jahrhundert." [509] "Entstehung d. Chr.," 98 sq. [510] Weinel, indeed, resolutely denies that this is a real characteristic of liberal Protestantism, and asserts that he has looked for it in vain in any liberal theologian's book. But he need only look in A. Meyer's work, which is cited by me, to find my idea confirmed. There it is said of Jesus inter alia: "Not only should we move and live in his love, but we are as he was, of the faith that this love will overcome the world, that it is the meaning, end, and true content of the world; that the power which uniformly and omnipotently fills and guides the world, is nothing but the God in whom he believed [was Jesus then a Pantheist?], and whom he calls his heavenly father. As he believed, so let us also, that whoever trusts in this God and lives in his love has found the meaning of life and the power which preserves him in time and in eternity. Jesus was the founder of our religion, of our faith, and of our inner life" (31). According to Meyer, Jesus attracts us by his manner, his Being, his love and his faith, we feel ourselves bound to him, become kin with him and so live by his strength; he is called "the voice of God to us," "our redeemer," and so forth. Those are simply expressions which applied to God have at least a valid meaning, but applied to the historical man Jesus are nothing but phrases, and are to be explained purely psychologically from the fact that liberalism in honouring the "unique" man Jesus does nevertheless unwittingly allow the belief in his divinity to come into play. In this atmosphere, obscured with phrases, the so-called "theology" of liberal Protestantism moves. Moreover, Weinel himself quotes a sentence of Herrmann with approval, which also gives expression to the idea that Jesus is for Protestant liberalism a kind of "demonstration of God" (80), and he adds himself: "It may indeed be that our conception of the significance of Jesus has often been expressed unskilfully enough. It may be that in discourses, lectures, or other popular ways of speaking something is at times said which may be so clumsily put as to give occasion for such things to be said." Indeed, he himself maintains regarding Jesus: "Whoever places the ideal of his life in him, he experiences God in him" (84). He also finds that the desire for God of the Jews, Greeks, Semites, and Germans "could be stilled in him." Taking into account these expressions and the whole tone which it pleases Herr Weinel to adopt towards the opponents of his standpoint, it appears time to remind him once again of E. v. Hartmann's "Die Selbstzersetzung des Christentums" (it is obvious he has only a third-hand acquaintance with the author whose point of view he calls Neo-Buddhism, counting him among the supporters of the morality of pity!) and especially of the chapter on "Die Irreligiosität des liberalen Protestantismus." Here, in connection with the lack of metaphysics displayed by liberal Protestantism (and admitted even by Weinel) and the latter's principle of love, he says: "If we transform the whole of religion into Ethics and soften down the whole of Ethics into love, we thereby renounce everything that is in religion besides love, and everything which makes love religious. We thereby confess that the impulse of love is raised into religion since religion properly so called has been lost. It is true religion is not a shark, as the inquisitors thought, but at the same time it is not a sea-nettle. A shark can at least be terrifying, a sea-nettle is always feeble." Liberal Protestantism, as Hartmann sums it up, consists "of a shapeless, poor, shallow metaphysic, which is concealed as far as possible from critical eyes; of a worship successfully freed from all mystery, but one that has become thereby by no means incapable of being objected to; of an Ethics forcibly separated from Metaphysics and on that account irreligious. It rests upon a view of the world which by its worldliness and optimistic contentment with the world is by no means in a position to give birth to a religion, and which sooner or later will allow the remnants of religious feeling which it brought with it to be smothered in worldly ease." [511] Op. cit., 39. [512] Cf. E. v. Hartmann, "Die Selbstzersetzung des Christentums und die Religion der Zukunft," 2nd ed., 1874, especially chaps. vi. and vii. [513] Cf. W. v. Schnehen, "Der moderne Jesuskultus," 2nd ed., 1906; also "Naumann vor dem Bankerott des Christentums," 1907. [514] Cf. my work, "Die Religion als Selbstbewusstsein Gottes," 1906, 199 sq. [515] Cf. my work, "Die Religion als Selbstbewusstsein Gottes," in which the attempt has been made to form a general religious view of the world in the sense mentioned. [516] Cf. "Der Monismus, dargestellt in Beiträgen seiner Vertreter," 2 vols., 1908. 
45716	----	[Illustration] THE LIFE OF OUR LORD FOR LITTLE CHILDREN [Illustration: "SUFFER LITTLE CHILDREN TO COME UNTO ME."] THE LIFE OF OUR LORD IN SIMPLE LANGUAGE FOR LITTLE CHILDREN With numerous illustrations [Illustration: JERUSALEM] LONDON FREDERICK WARNE AND CO. AND NEW YORK [Illustration] PREFACE IN preparing this brief account of the chief incidents in Our Lord's Life, the writer has endeavoured to keep as close as possible to the sacred text; its divine simplicity being far preferable to any other style of writing the story. The easiest words and those most familiar to children have generally been used and every effort has been made to adapt the volume to the intelligence of the young with the view of instilling into their minds the love of our Saviour for mankind as shown in the beautiful story of His life. [Illustration] [Illustration] [Illustration] THE LIFE OF OUR LORD FOR LITTLE CHILDREN [Illustration: KING DAVID.] IN ages past God made the world: the earth, the sea, the hills, the streams, the trees; the fish, birds and beasts; last of all He made Adam, the first man, and Eve his wife, and they lived in the Garden of Eden. They were quite good at first, but tempted by Satan they ate the fruit of a tree God told them not to eat, and that brought sin into the world; they could not live for ever now, they must die; but that their souls might go to heaven, God's own Son said He would come down on earth and die to save them. God said His Son should be born of Abraham's nation, and should be one of the sons of the line of King David, who sang the sweet psalms in praise of God. Abraham was a good man, so good that God called him His friend; and from him came the people called Jews. David was one of their kings. God always keeps His word, but He makes men wait till it is His time to do as He says; and it was a long, long time after Abraham and David that our Lord came to live among men. At last God sent His angel Gabriel to a young maiden, named Mary, who lived at a town called Nazareth, to tell her that God loved her, and that she should have God's Son for her own son. Our Lord would be her little babe. When Mary saw the angel she was at first afraid, but he said to her, "Fear not, Mary," and he told her that she must call the child's name Jesus--that means Saviour--for He would save the people from their sins. Then Mary must have been glad. She said, "I am God's servant; may His will be done." Mary was to be the wife of her cousin Joseph--they were both of David's family--so the angel went and told him too, that Mary should have God's Son for her own, and that he must call the child Jesus. Joseph and Mary lived at Nazareth. At that time the Jews were ruled over by the Romans, whose king was called Cæsar. He wanted to know how many people there were in that land, so he said all the men and women of it must go to their own towns to be counted. Now Mary and Joseph's town was Bethlehem. It was a great way off, but they had to go. It took days and days to get there, for they went slowly, and when at last they came to the town they found the inn full; there was no room for them, and they had to go to a stable to sleep and eat and drink. And that night God sent Mary her Son. She had no nice cradle to lay the Lord in, but she had some clothes to put on Him, so she wrapped the sweet babe in them, and laid Him in a manger, where the ox and the ass fed. [Illustration: THE JOURNEY DOWN TO BETHLEHEM.] How good it was of our Lord to be born a poor child for our sakes, was it not? He was the Son of God, but to save men He came down and was a babe in a stable of Bethlehem. Winter had come, the snow was on the hills near Bethlehem, and some shepherds were keeping watch over their flocks at night for fear the wolves or bears should come and hurt them, when suddenly they saw a great light in the dark sky, and from it a bright angel came down close to them, and they were much afraid. But the angel said, "Fear not, for I bring you good tidings"--that is, news--"of great joy which shall be to all people. For unto you is born this day, in the city of David, a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord. And this is how you will know Him: you shall find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes lying in a manger." And then a great many angels came out of the light and sang, "Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace; good-will to men." The song ended, they went back to heaven, and the shepherds said, "Let us go to Bethlehem, and see this great thing of which the Lord has told us." And they made haste, and found Mary and Joseph, and the babe lying in a manger. And the shepherds praised God, and told the people all that they had seen and heard. The Son of God had no nice soft cradle as you had; He was laid in a manger from which the ox and ass fed: He chose to be a poor child for our sakes. [Illustration: THE SHEPHERDS IN THE STABLE.] Mary gave the name of Jesus to the babe as God had told her, and when He was six weeks old she and Joseph brought Him to God's Temple to present Him to the Lord, and to give two doves to show her thanks for the child God had sent to her. There was an old and good man at that time, to whom God had promised that he should not die till he had seen the Lord's Son; and now God's Holy Spirit told him that the Child was in the Temple; and the old man, Simeon, went there and took the Babe in his arms, and thanked God, and said that now he should die in peace, for he had seen the Saviour. And Simeon blessed Joseph and Mary, but he told her that men would speak ill of her Child. Then a good old woman--her name was Anna--came in; she was day and night praying in the Temple, and God let her, too, know that this Child was God's Son, come to save men; and she was glad, and gave God thanks, and told every one that the Christ was come. [Illustration: THE PRESENTATION OF OUR LORD IN THE TEMPLE.] The word Christ means anointed--that is, touched with oil, as kings and priests were--and the Jews always spoke of the Saviour who was to come as "the Christ," or "King." Then Mary took the Child back to Bethlehem. Now there were some Wise Men who lived a long way off, and who knew a great deal about the stars. At that time all the world expected that Christ would come, and these wise men had heard that when He was born they would see a new star. One night they saw a bright one that they did not know, and it shone over the land of the Jews. So they set off at once to go and see the new-born King. It was a long way to go; they rode across the sands on camels, and went on and on to where the star shone. At last they came to Jerusalem, and they asked the people, "Where is He that is born King of the Jews? for we have seen His star in the east, and are come to worship him." [Illustration: ARRIVAL OF THE WISE MEN.] Now at that time the Romans had made a very bad, cruel man, whose name was Herod, King of the Jews. When he heard of the wise men and of what they wanted to know, he was troubled; for he was afraid if the great King was born that he (Herod) would not be King any longer. So he sent for the chief priests and asked them where God had said that the Christ should be born. He did not know himself, for he was not a Jew. And the priests said that Christ should be born in the little town of Bethlehem. Then Herod sent for the wise men and asked them when they first saw the star; and he sent them to Bethlehem and said: "When you have found the young Child bring me word, that I may come and worship Him too." [Illustration: THE FLIGHT INTO EGYPT.] But the cruel King meant to kill the Babe if he found him. Then the wise men went to Bethlehem, and to their great joy, the star that they saw in the east went before them till it came and stood over where the young Child was. Then the wise men went in, and saw the young Child and Mary his mother, and they fell down and worshipped Him, and gave Him rich gifts--gold and a sweet scent, and myrrh, which is a kind of gum. But God told them, in a dream, not to return to Herod, so they went back to their own land by another way. And when they were gone, the angel of the Lord came to Joseph in a dream, and told him to rise, and take the young Child and His mother and flee into Egypt, for Herod would seek for the Babe to kill Him. Joseph rose at once, though it was night, and took the Child and His mother and made haste to go to Egypt. [Illustration: THE SEA OF GALILEE.] King Herod was very angry when he knew that the wise men were gone home, and he sent and had all the babes in Bethlehem killed, from quite babies up to two years old. He thought, thus, that he would be sure to kill the Holy Child, but God did not let him, you know. When this cruel King died, an angel came and told Joseph to take the Child back again into His own land. And Joseph took Him and Mary, and they went to live at Nazareth, a town on the shore of the Sea of Galilee. [Illustration: JESUS IN THE TEMPLE.] And the Child grew strong and full of wisdom, and the grace of God was on him. And when He was twelve years old, He went up with Mary and Joseph to Jerusalem, to keep the Passover--this was a feast that God had commanded the Jews to keep, to remind them that He had saved them from death, and set them free when they were slaves in Egypt. They ate a lamb at it, and drank some wine. When the feast was over, Mary and Joseph went on their way home, but Jesus stayed behind in the city. There were so many people going to Galilee that Mary did not miss her son till night; then she went to look for Him, for she thought He must be with some friends; but she could not find Him, and in great fear, she and Joseph went back to the city to seek for Him. They did not find Him for three days, and then they went to the Temple, and there He was in the midst of the priests and learned men, listening to them, and asking them questions. And they were all much surprised at his great sense and wise answers. His mother, also, was amazed; but she said to Him, "Son, why have you done this? your father and I have sought You sorrowing." And He said to them, "How is it that you sought me? Did you not know that I must do My Father's business?" He meant "God's business," but they did not know the meaning of His words. Then He went home with them and obeyed them, and was a good, kind Son; but His mother kept all these things in her heart. Jesus has shown all children how to behave to their parents; to obey them and be kind to them as He was. [Illustration: THE RIVER JORDAN.] Now about fifteen years after this time there came a man in the wild part of the land, by the river Jordan, who cried to the people, "Repent," that is, "Be sorry for your sins and be good," "for the Kingdom of Heaven is near." This man's name was John, and he was the cousin of Jesus. He wore only a rough robe of camel's hair and a belt of leather round his waist; he had never tasted wine; he fed on insects called locusts, and wild honey. Then all the people of Jerusalem, and in all the places near, came to John, and said how sorry they were for their sins, and he baptized them in the Jordan--that is, he poured water on their heads as they stood in the stream as a sign that God would wash their sins away--that is, forgive them. But he told them all that he was not the Christ who was to come. He said he was only a Voice to call them from their bad ways and make them ready for the One that was to come, whose shoes he was not good enough to untie. At last, one day, Jesus came to be baptized, but John, who knew how good He was, said, "No, I need to be baptized by You. Why do You come to me?" But Jesus said, "It was right to do so," and then John obeyed Him and baptized Him. Our Lord had no sins to be forgiven, but He wished to set us an example, always to do right. And as He came up out of the river, the heavens opened, and the Spirit of God, like a dove, came down and rested on Him, and there came a voice from heaven, saying, "This is my beloved Son in Whom I am well pleased." Then John knew that Jesus was God's Son--the Christ. After He had been baptized, Our Lord went into the wild country, or wilderness, for forty days, and was tempted by the wicked spirit, called the Devil. To tempt any one is to try and make him wicked; but the devil could not make our Lord say or do a wrong thing, although he tried in every way that he possibly could, and so he left Him. But Jesus came back to John the Baptist, and as He came near the river, John said to those who stood by him, "Behold the Lamb of God that taketh away the sin of the world." And he told them how he knew that Jesus was the Son of God, by the voice from heaven and the dove coming down on Him. Again, the next day as John stood with two of his disciples--that means, men who were taught by him--Jesus came near, and John said, "Behold the Lamb of God." And then the two disciples of John followed Jesus. He turned and saw them, and said, "What seek ye?" They said, "Master, where do You live?" And He said, "Come and see," and He took them to His house, and they stayed with Him all day. Now one of them was called Andrew. He was so sure that Our Lord was Christ, the Son of God, that he went and found his own brother, Simon, and brought him to hear and know this great teacher. A good brother or sister will always try to make his or her own brother know and love Our Lord. [Illustration: PHILIP AND NATHANAEL.] The next day Our Lord told Philip to follow Him. And Philip went to his friend Nathanael, and said to him, "We have found the Lord who is Christ, He is Jesus of Nazareth." Nathanael said, "Can any good thing come out of Nazareth?" for Nazareth was a very bad town. Philip said, "Come and see." He knew that if his friend saw and heard Jesus he would love Him. So he brought Nathanael to Our Lord, and Jesus said, "Here is a very good, true man." Nathanael said, "How do You know me?" Jesus said, "Before Philip called you I saw you when you were under the fig-tree." God can see us always. So then Nathanael knew that Jesus must be the Son of God--the King--for only the Son of God could have seen him so far off; and he stayed with Our Lord as the others did. Now Jesus had five disciples with Him, and He left the shores of the Jordan and went with his friends, John, Andrew, Peter, Philip, and Nathanael, to a town called Cana. And three days after they came to it, there was to be a wedding in Cana. The mother of Jesus was there, and Our Lord and His disciples were invited to the marriage. Now, you know the Lord Jesus and His mother were poor, and no doubt the people who gave the feast were also poor, for they had not enough wine to last till the end; and when there was not any more the mother of Jesus went to Him and said, "They have no wine." Jesus did not say at once, "I will give them some;" He said, "What have I to do with thee? My time has not yet come." But His mother believed that He would help all the same; she knew how good and kind He was. So she said to the servants, "Do what He tells you." Now there were some large stone jars or pots in the room used for holding water, and Jesus said to the servants, "Fill the water-pots with water." And they filled them up to the brim. And then Our Lord told them to pour it out and take it to the man who was ruler of the feast; for the Jews used to get a friend to see that things went right at their feasts, and he was called the governor or ruler. [Illustration: CHANGING THE WATER INTO WINE.] Now Our Lord had changed the water into wine, and when the ruler of the feast had tasted it he sent for the bridegroom, and said to him, "You have kept the good wine till now," for it was very good wine. But the servants knew that it had been water, and they told every one that Jesus had made it wine. This was the first miracle--that is, wonderful thing--that Our Lord did before all the people. It was a great miracle; and when His disciples saw it they were sure that He must be the Christ. Why did our Lord do this wonderful thing? To be kind, and to show men that He was God. There are things men cannot do; but God can do them, and when Jesus did them He showed men that He was God. Soon after this, Our Lord went up to Jerusalem to keep the Passover. He went to the Temple--God's house in which He was worshipped; and where every day they killed a lamb and burnt it on the altar. The lamb was offered up that God might forgive the sins of the people. So when John the Baptist said, "Here is the Lamb of God," he meant that Our Lord would die, as the Temple Lamb did, to save men from their sins. [Illustration: TURNING OUT THE MONEY CHANGERS.] But when our Lord came into the Temple He was very angry. For He saw in it oxen and sheep, doves and pigeons waiting to be sold to people for sacrifice, and tables with heaps of money on them that came from all lands; for the men whose the tables were, changed the gold of far off countries for the Jew's money. Do you not think it was very wrong of men to bring oxen, and lambs, and money to change into God's House? Our Lord was very angry to see it. He made a whip of small cords and drove out the oxen and sheep; and He upset the tables of money, and the seats of those who sold doves, and said, "Take these things away. Do not make my Father's house a place to buy and sell in." The men whom the Lord drove out were very angry, but they knew that He was quite right, and so they did not strive against Him. But the priests, who ought not to have allowed such things, came to Jesus and said, "Give us some sign, you have a right to do this." They meant, do some miracle. But our Lord would not do a miracle for them. He said the only sign that should be given them was, that if they killed Him He would rise again in three days. But they did not know what His words meant. While Jesus was here a very good and wise rich man, named Nicodemus, came to see Him by night. He did not go to see Jesus in the daytime, because he was afraid of the Jews; but Our Lord taught him a great many things. Among others, that God so loved the World that He gave His only begotten Son, that whosoever believed in Him should not perish, but have everlasting life. For God sent His Son into the World that through Him it might be saved. [Illustration: NICODEMUS BEING TAUGHT BY CHRIST.] Then Jesus left the City, and went about teaching and doing good, healing the sick, making the blind see, and the deaf hear, and so He came to Samaria. Now the Jews hated the people who lived there; and the Samaritans hated the Jews. Our Lord never hated any one. He loved both the good and the bad, and came to save all. Of course God loves good men or good children best; Our Lord loved His Apostle John best of all, but He does good to all men, and lets His sun shine on all alike. One day Our Lord was very tired; He had been teaching the poor and making the sick well, and He had walked a long way, and He wanted food. So He sat down on the stone edge of an old well in Samaria, while the disciples went to buy food, and while He sat there a woman came from the town with a jug to draw water. And Jesus said to her, "Give me some to drink." But she said, "How is it that you, who are a Jew, ask me, who am a Samaritan, for drink? for the Jews will not have anything to do with the Samaritans." Jesus told her that if she had but known Who it was that asked her for drink, she would have begged Him to give her living water. The woman said, "You have not anything to draw the water in, and the well is deep. How can you get living water? Are you greater than our father, Jacob, who gave us this well?" But Our Lord told her that they who drank the water of that well would be thirsty again; but that if she drank of the water He could give her she should never thirst; it should give her life that would not end. What did Our Lord mean by living water? He meant God's grace--that is--God's help to make us good. The woman did not know what He meant, so she said, "Give me this water that I may not have to come here to draw any more." Then Our Lord told her of her sins; He knew that she was not good; He knew all her past life, and He told her about God, and that He must be worshipped in spirit and in truth. The woman said, "I know that Christ will come soon, and He will tell us all things." Think how glad she must have been when Our Lord said, "I, that speak unto you, am He." Just then His disciples came, and they wondered that He talked to a Samaritan woman. She left her water-pot, and went to tell her friends, and to ask them to come and see Jesus. The disciples said to Our Lord, "Master, eat;" they had brought food; but Jesus cared more to do God's work than to eat, though He was hungry. The woman brought many of the people of the town to Our Lord, and they believed that He was the Christ, and begged that He would stay with them and teach them; and He did stay there for two days. How good our Lord was to stay and teach these poor men, to whom the proud Jews would not even speak. Then Jesus went to Cana again where He had made the water into wine; and a rich man who had a young son very ill came to Him and begged Him to make his child well. [Illustration: JESUS AND THE WOMAN OF SAMARIA.] Our Lord wanted to try the man's faith, so He did not say, "Yes, I will," at once. He said, "If you do not see signs and wonders you will not believe." But the man said again, "Sir, do come down or my son will be dead." Our Lord pitied him and said, "Go thy way, thy son liveth." [Illustration: JESUS AND THE RICH MAN.] Jesus could cure the sick boy without seeing him. The rich man had faith; he believed Our Lord's words and went his way, but before he reached his house his servants met him, and said, "Your son is getting well." "When did he begin to get better?" asked the father. "Yesterday, at the seventh hour, the fever left him," they said. Then the father knew that it was at the very same hour that Our Lord spoke that his son was made well. And now Our Lord came to Nazareth where He had been brought up, and He went into the synagogue--that is the Jews' chapel--on the seventh day and He stood up to read. The priest gave Him the book. It was that part of the Bible where God told men what Christ would do when He came, how He would teach men, and comfort sad people, and make blind men see. And when Our Lord had read it He gave the book back to the priest, and said, "All this has come true to-day." And He told them that He was the Christ. At first they liked to hear Him preach, for His words and voice were sweet; but when He told them that He was Christ they grew very angry, and said, "Is not this the carpenter's son? He is not Christ;" and they got up and dragged Our Lord out of the town to the edge of the hill on which their city was built, that they might cast Him down headlong and kill Him. But it was not the time Jesus meant to die, so He made them not able to see Him, and He walked through the midst of them and went away. [Illustration: PREACHING IN THE SYNAGOGUE.] You see what bad men lived in Nazareth. They drove away the good, gentle Lord, who came to save them from their sins, because they were proud and jealous of Him; and He never again came to teach them. He went down to Capernaum, another town by the Sea of Galilee, and taught there and did many miracles, and it was called His Town. Our Lord had not His disciples always with Him yet; John and James and Andrew and Peter had gone back to their boats to fish; but now Jesus wished them to be always with Him, so He called them again. I will tell you how. One day when Jesus was on the sea-shore, such crowds of people came to hear Him speak to them that there was not room, and they pressed upon Him. There were two large boats close to the shore; the fishers had gone out of them and were washing their nets; so our Lord went into one of them, which was Peter's, and asked him to push the boat a little way out from the land. Then He sat down and taught the people from the boat. And when He had done speaking, He said to Peter, "Pull out into the deep water and let down your nets to catch some fish." But Peter said, "Master, we have toiled all night and have not caught one fish; but still at Thy word I will let down the net." Peter thought that it would be of no use to do so, but still he would obey the Lord. So he threw the net into the sea, and heaps and heaps of fishes came into it directly, so many that the net broke. [Illustration: THE MIRACULOUS DRAUGHT OF FISHES.] Then Peter called to the other boat, in which were his partners, James and John, to help him, and they came and filled both boats with fish; there were so many that the boats began to sink. When Simon Peter saw it he fell down at Our Lord's feet, and said, "Go away from me, for I am a sinful man, O Lord." For he was afraid. But Jesus said to him, "Fear not; from this time you shall catch men." What did that mean? Peter knew, and James and John knew; it meant that they must not fish any more, but come and try to draw men to the Lord to make them good. They were quite sure now that Our Lord was the Christ, so when they had brought their boats to the shore, they left them and all they had, and went with Jesus, and did not leave Him any more till the end came. After Our Lord had been away for a time from Capernaum, He went back there. As soon as the people heard it they came in great numbers to the house Jesus was in, to see and hear Him. Now the houses in that land are not like ours: they have flat roofs, on which you can walk or sit, and a staircase outside the house leads up to it. Most of the houses--all the large ones--have a court in the middle of them. The people crowded into the court of the house where Our Lord was, and He preached to them there. More and more came in till there was no room, not so much as about the door. Now there was a poor man in the town who was sick of the palsy, so that he could not move; and lay always on a bed. He wished very much to go to Our Lord for help, and his friends who loved him had him carried by four men on a kind of bed to the house where the Lord Jesus was, but they could not come near Him through the crowd. So they carried him up to the roof, and took off enough of the tiles to make room for them to let the bed down by ropes put at each of the four corners, and thus they lowered it down with him on it, right in the front of the Lord. He looked at the sick man, and said, "Son, thy sins be forgiven thee." Jesus knows all we think, and He knew the poor man wished more to be forgiven for his sins than to be made well. But some of the Jews--lawyers--who hated Our Lord, thought to themselves, "How wickedly this man speaks. Who can forgive sins but God only?" They did not think the Lord could know their thoughts; but He did know them, and He said, "Why do you think this in your hearts? Is it easier to say to the sick man, Your sins are forgiven, or to say, Arise, take up your bed and walk? But that you may know that (I) the Son of Man have power on earth to forgive sins, I will do so." And then our Lord said to the sick man, who could not move, "Arise, and take up thy bed, and go thy way into thine house." And the sick man rose up and stood, and took up his bed and walked out before them all. And they were amazed, and praised God, saying, "We never saw anything like it before." [Illustration: THE SOUTH SIDE OF THE SEA OF GALILEE.] After Our Lord had made the sick man well, He walked down to the shore of the beautiful sea of Galilee. The crowd followed Him, and there in the fresh, sweet air, He went on teaching them. Not far off was a place called the Receipt of Custom. I will tell you for what it was used. The Romans made the Jews pay them money, and this was called a tax. They put men in some places to receive this tax for them, and these men were called Publicans. They were not good men generally, and the priests and great men hated them; but some of them were just and honest. Levi was; and we may be sure he had heard Our Lord preach and loved Him, for one day, as he was sitting at the place where men paid the tax to him, Our Lord went up to him and said, "Follow Me." Levi must have known who spoke to him, for he at once rose and was ready to give up all his riches and go with Jesus. And he was so glad that the Lord had called him that he gave a feast at his house, and asked all his friends to come to it to meet their Saviour. His friends were most of them Publicans like himself, and not all good men; but Jesus and His disciples sat down and ate with them. Now some of the Jews hated Our Lord; these were the Scribes and Pharisees. The Scribes were men who wrote out the laws--there were no printed books in those days--so they were thought wise; the Pharisees were a set of men who pretended to serve God better than any other people, and made a show of praying, saying their prayers in the streets to be seen of men; but they were not really good. These men came now, and said to Jesus, "How can You sit down to eat with publicans and sinners?" Jesus said, "Men who are well do not want a doctor, but those who are sick do. I am not come to call good men to be sorry for their sins, but bad men." The Pharisees did not know that they and all men were sinners, and that all must be saved by Jesus. [Illustration: THE RECEIPT OF CUSTOM.] Now I must tell you that Levi had two names, as you have. His first name was Matthew, and a long time after, he wrote the story of Our Lord's life. It is called the Gospel--that means good news--of St. Matthew, and it is in the Bible. Now just as the feast was ending there came a ruler and he threw himself down at Jesus' feet, and said, "My daughter is dying, but come and lay Your hands on her and she shall live." This ruler's name was Jairus; he had great faith. And Jesus rose up at once and went with him, and so did His disciples. And as they went along the road a poor woman who had been ill for years and had spent all her money to pay doctors, who did her no good, crept softly up behind Our Lord and just touched the hem of His robe, for she said, "If I may but touch His robe I shall be well." There was a great mob of people at the time and they pressed up against Jesus, but He stopped, and said, "Who touched Me?" Then Peter and the rest said, "Master, all the people press on You; why do You ask 'who touched Me?'" And Jesus said, "Some one has touched Me." Then the woman came and knelt down, and said, "I did," and Jesus was pleased with her faith and told her to go in peace, and she was quite cured. Then they went on to Jairus' house. The little girl was dead; but Jesus took the father and mother and Peter, James, and John with Him and went in where she lay and took her little hand, and said, "Maid, arise." And the little girl came to life and got up, and Jesus told them to give her something to eat. How glad her father and mother must have been to have their dear child again, alive and well! How they must have thanked and blessed Our Lord! All her friends would always believe in Him now; and do you not think the little girl--she was only twelve years old--must have loved the Lord Jesus very much, and tried to be good to please Him. [Illustration: THE RAISING OF JAIRUS' DAUGHTER.] When Jesus left the house where He had raised the child from the dead, two blind men followed Him crying, "Thou Son of David, have mercy on us." When they called the Lord the Son of David, they meant that they believed He was the Christ. And they followed Him into the house. And Jesus said to them, "Do you believe I can make you see?" They said, "Yes, Lord." Then he touched their eyes and said, "As your faith is so be it unto you." And their eyes were opened and they could see. They had told the truth, they did believe in Jesus; if they had said they did untruly they would not have been cured. Our Lord told them not to let any one know it; but when they were gone they told about it everywhere. When Jesus went out again they brought to Him a dumb man; Our Lord ordered him to speak and he did so. Indeed no poor sick man came to Him in vain. He made lepers well, and cured a man with dropsy; and made a crooked woman straight. He made the dumb speak, the deaf hear, the blind see, the cripple walk. We cannot in this little book tell you half the kind, good, and wonderful things Our Lord did while He was on earth. And He sent His apostles also to teach the people, and made them able to heal the sick and to do other miracles. One day the disciples were angry because one who was not a disciple cured a man in Christ's Name, but Our Lord said, "Forbid him not, for even he who gives you a cup of water in My Name, shall not lose his reward." About this time there was a feast of the Jews, and Jesus went up to Jerusalem. Now there was at Jerusalem by the sheep-market a pool of water which was called Bethesda, that means House of Mercy. Round it were five porches or doorways, and in these lay a great many poor sick men. There was something wonderful about the pool. At times in the year the water bubbled up--the Jews said an angel made it do so. The first person who stepped into the pool as it bubbled was cured at once. So many sick men waited for the chance. One man was there who had been crippled for thirty-eight years. The Lord Jesus walked down one day to this pool, and when He saw the poor man and heard how long he had been thus, He said to him, "Will you be made well?" The helpless man thought Our Lord meant, "Will you not go into the pool," for he answered, "Sir, I have no man who will put me in when the pool is bubbling, and while I try to get to it another man steps down before me." It was, as you know, only the first who stepped in after the water was troubled that was cured. Then Jesus said, "Take up your bed and walk." [Illustration: THE CRIPPLE AT THE POOL OF BETHESDA.] And the man who could not move at all at once rose, took up his bed--a rug most likely--and walked. Now it was the Sabbath day, and you know how strict the Jews were about it. They said at once to the man who was cured, "Why do you carry your bed on the Sabbath day? it is forbidden by the law." The man said, "He that made me well said to me, 'Take up your bed and walk.'" When they asked him, "What man was it who told you to do so?" But the man did not know, because Jesus had gone away with the crowd. Afterwards Jesus found him in the Temple and said to him, "You are well now; do not sin again lest a worse thing come on you." The man must have been a sinner, and Jesus told him to take care to be a better man, or God might punish him with a worse illness, but he was so ungrateful that, though he must have known the Jews would be angry with Our Lord for making him well on the Sabbath day, he went at once to them and told them that it was Jesus who had made him well. The priests were very angry, but Jesus said to them, "My Father works on the Sabbath and so do I." Then they wanted to kill Him, because he had not only done a miracle on the Sabbath, but said that God was His Father, making Himself equal with God. And so, you know, He was; but these wicked Jews would not believe it; they were jealous of Him because the people loved Him, and angry because He told them how wicked they were. [Illustration: THE TREASURE HID IN A FIELD.] Our Lord told His disciples one day this pretty parable. The Kingdom of Heaven is like treasure--that is, something precious like gold or gems--hid in a field, and a man who knows about it, and wishes to get it, sells all that he has and buys the field; the treasure is then his and he digs it up. In that country much gold had been hidden in the ground by men who fled from their enemies, and never came back to dig it up again, and there were many who sought for it. This parable means that the kingdom of God, the love of Christ, and His help to make us good are so precious that we should give up anything for them, and try as hard as we can to gain them. [Illustration: JESUS AND HIS DISCIPLES IN THE CORN-FIELD.] Our Lord and His disciples were poor, and sometimes wanted food. One Sabbath day they were walking through the corn-fields, and the disciples were hungry, so they picked some ears of corn, rubbed them in their hands, and ate the wheat. The Jews might eat corn in the fields on week-days, but the Pharisees had made many hard and silly rules about the Sabbath day. God had said that they must keep the seventh day holy; but He meant it to be a rest from work and a day for men to pray to Him, not a day such as they made it. The Pharisees said that no fire might be lighted on the Sabbath day, no food cooked, not one thing might be done; they might only walk a little way on that day; and doctors might not cure or help the sick. So it was a day when men, and children too, were not happy, as God meant them to be. Now, when the Pharisees saw the disciples eat the corn, they said, "Why do you do that which is not right on the Sabbath day?" Our Lord answered, and told them that there was no harm in His disciples eating the corn, for men must eat on the Sabbath day, and that we might do needful things on it. Then He went into the synagogue, and He saw there a man with a withered hand. And the Jews said to Christ, "Is it right to make men well on the Sabbath day?" And Jesus said, "Yes, it is; for if a sheep fell into a pit on the Sabbath day you would take it out, and a man ought to be helped more than a sheep." And He told the poor man to stretch out his hand; he did so, and found that Jesus had made it well, and just like the other hand. And the Pharisees were so angry because He had told men that they were wrong, that they began to talk about killing Him. But Jesus went away when He knew it; and a great crowd of people followed Him, and He made all the sick ones well. [Illustration: THE SERMON ON THE MOUNT.] One day, when He saw how many there were following Him, He wished to teach them, and, that they might hear Him well, He went up on a mount close by, and sat down. The Jews always sat down to preach. And when He was seated, His disciples came to Him, and the words He then spoke are called the Sermon on the Mount. You will read it when you are older; it is too hard for you now, but we may tell you a few things out of it. Jesus told them that God would bless those who were humble--that is, not proud--and the meek and gentle. He said that God would comfort those who were sad; that He would bless those who were kind; that the pure in heart should see God, and that those who made up quarrels should be called God's children. He told them that they need not "take thought" about how they should get food and clothes. "See," He said, "the birds of the air: God feeds them; He will also feed you; and look at the lilies: they toil not, neither do they spin, yet the grandest king in all his glory was not arrayed--that is, dressed--like one of them. Seek to please God, and He will take care of you." Then He taught them to say the prayer "Our Father," just as you do now at your mother's knee. When Jesus had ended the Sermon on the Mount, He came down, and a great many people followed Him; and there came a leper, and knelt down to Him, and said, "Lord, if You will, You can make me clean." A leper was a man whose flesh was eaten away by disease; sometimes the fingers and feet of the leper would fall off. No one could cure him, and men might catch the complaint, so the lepers were kept in a place by themselves; and if they went into the town, they had to cry as they went, "Unclean! unclean!" We are sure that, when this leper came to Christ, all the people got out of his way, and would not touch the poor man. But Our Lord put out His kind hand and touched him, and said, "I will; be thou clean;" and in a moment the leper was quite well; and Our Lord told him to go to the priest and offer a gift of thanks to God. No one but God can cure a leper; but Jesus is God, and He could. [Illustration: CHRIST AND THE CENTURION.] Now, when Our Lord had come to Capernaum, there came a Roman, the captain of a hundred men, and begged Him to make his servant well, for he was very ill with the palsy. Our Lord said at once, "I will come and heal him." But the Roman captain said, "Lord, I am not good enough for You to come to my house, but speak the word only, and my servant will be well." You see, this Roman had even more faith than the rich man, whose son was ill. "For," the Roman went on, "if I tell my servants to do anything, they do it; and You, who rule all things, need only speak to be obeyed." And Jesus wondered at the Roman's words, and said, "Verily, I have not found such great faith, no, not in Israel," and He said to the centurion, "Go your way; and as you have believed so be it done unto you." And the man went home, and found his servant well. Then Jesus went to Peter's house, and made his wife's mother well of a fever, and healed many more sick, and made the blind see and the deaf hear. We cannot, in this little book, tell you half of the good and kind things Our Lord did. Jesus sometimes told His disciples lovely tales that meant something more than just the story, so they were called Parables. One of these was that the Kingdom of Heaven is like a merchant who wanted to buy good pearls. You know what pearls are, do you not? They are pure white shining beads that men find in the shell of the oyster. To get them the fishers have to go down to the bottom of the sea; so, of course, they sell the pearls very dear. Now, when the pearl-fishers had found a very large pearl of great price, they took it to the merchant; it would cost a great deal, but he knew it was worth even more; so he sold all he had and bought it. Now this story means that God's Kingdom is such a beautiful place, and that it is so good for us to serve Christ here, that we should give up all that we most care for to gain the love of God. [Illustration: THE MIRACLE AT NAIN.] One day, Our Lord, with His disciples and a great crowd who followed Him, came near a little town called Nain. And just as He drew near the gate of the city a dead young man was brought out to be buried. His mother was walking by the side of the bier and crying very much, for her husband was dead, and she had no other son. And when Our Lord saw her He had pity on her, and said, "Weep not," and He came and touched the bier, and the men who were carrying it stood still. And Jesus said, "Young man, I say unto thee, Arise!" And the dead man came to life and sat up and began to speak, and the Lord gave him to his mother. And there came a great fear on all who saw it, and they said, "God has visited His people." Another parable Jesus told them was of a sower who went out to sow seed. And as he cast the seeds about some of them fell by the wayside; and the birds came and ate them up; some fell on stony places where they had not much earth to grow in, and they sprang up fast, because they were not deep in the ground; but when the sun came out, it burned them up quite dry, for they had no root; and some fell among thorns, and the thorns sprang up and choked them--that is, did not leave them room to grow. But some fell on good ground, and grew up and brought forth much fruit. The Apostles did not quite know what hidden meaning there was in this Parable, so Jesus told them. The seed meant the Word of God; the sower, a servant of God who had to teach the Word. The seed that fell by the wayside meant that the words had not been cared for by those who heard them, and the Wicked Spirit then made them forget all they had heard. That which fell on stony places and had no depth of earth, meant those who at first are glad to hear of God's love, and seem as if they would be His children; but their goodness has "no root," and so a little trouble makes them give up trying. We must all ask God to keep us Christ's children. The seed that fell among thorns meant that sometimes when men have been taught about God, they let the love of money and the cares of life and its pleasures fill their minds so that they have no time or thought to give to God, or to read and pray. Those seeds that fell on good ground meant the children or men who listen to God's Word, and read it, and pray to Him for help, and try to obey it. These grow better and better, and God will love and help them. [Illustration: THE SOWER.] Our Lord was often very tired when He had been making sick people well and teaching them by these lovely stories; and then He would go up a mountain alone and pray to His Father in Heaven, or cross the sea to some other place, for He had hardly time to eat or sleep. One day He was very tired and the sun had set, so He said to His disciples, "Let us cross to the other side." Then they sent away the crowd of people and took Jesus in the ship, and put out to sea, and there were with them many other little ships. And there arose a great wind; the waves were high and beat into the boat, so that it was full of water and going to sink; but Our Lord was fast asleep, with his head on a pillow, in the stern of the ship. The disciples were much afraid, and they woke him, saying, "Lord, do you not care that we perish?" Then Jesus rose and stood up and spoke to the wind and waves, and said, "Peace"--that is, Hush!--"be still." And the wind stopped blowing, and the waves grew still, and there was a great calm. Then the disciples said to each other, "What kind of man is this, that even the wind and the sea obey Him?" They ought to have known, for they had seen Him raise the dead. You know, do you not? He was the Son of God. [Illustration: CHRIST STILLING THE TEMPEST.] Our Lord chose twelve of the men who followed Him to be his apostles, and He sent seventy of His disciples out to teach, and gave them power to make sick people well. The apostles also, were sent, but after a time they came back to Our Lord, and told Him all that they had done and taught. And He said to them, "Come ye apart into a desert place and rest awhile," for there were many coming and going, and they had not even time to eat. And they went by ship with Him to a desert place near a city called Bethsaida. But when the people found out where He had gone, they came in crowds after Him. Our Lord was very kind to them. He went to this desert place to rest, but He did not care for rest or food, if He could do good, so He did not say, "Why did you come here?" but He went up on a mount and told them about God, and made all the sick ones well. And when the day began to wear away, the twelve apostles came to Him, and said, "Send this great crowd away that they may go to the towns near and get food, for this is a desert place." Then Jesus said to Philip, "Where shall we get bread that these may eat?" And this He said to try him, for He Himself knew what He would do. And Philip said, "A great deal of bread would not be enough to give each of them a little piece." Then Andrew said, "There is a lad here who has five barley loaves and two small fishes, but what are they among so many?" And Jesus said, "Make the men sit down." And they sat down on the grass, fifty in one place, and there were five thousand men there. Then Jesus took the loaves, and when He had given thanks He broke them, and gave the pieces to His disciples, and they gave them to the people; and He gave them of the fishes as much as they would, and they all ate and left many pieces. Then Our Lord told the Apostles to gather the pieces up so that nothing might be lost; for Jesus does not like people to waste things, and they picked up enough pieces to fill twelve baskets with the bread that was left. Was not this a very great miracle? The people who saw it said at once, that Our Lord was the Christ that was to come, and they wanted to make Him a King; and when He would not be one, they thought they would take Him by force and crown Him; but Jesus sent His disciples away and went into a mountain all by Himself and prayed to His Father. This miracle made the people believe in our Lord more than any other. They thought that He Who could feed them when they were hungry, must be the promised Saviour; and they had been taught by the priests that when Christ came He would be a king, that He would free them from the Romans and make them rich and great. That was a great mistake. The Christ was coming to set them free from their sins, and bring them to His Heavenly Kingdom, not only to do them good on earth. [Illustration: FEEDING THE FIVE THOUSAND.] And when the sun had set the disciples were on the sea, and it was now dark, and Jesus was not come to them. The wind blew, and the great waves rose. How they must have wished Our Lord had been there to hush the storm. But Jesus saw them, and in the middle of the night He went to them; He had no boat so He walked on the sea. Can men walk on the sea? No; but Our Lord could, because He was God. When the disciples saw Him, they were afraid, and cried out. But Jesus spoke to them at once, and said, "Fear not, it is I." And Peter said, "Lord, if it is You tell me to come to You on the sea." And Jesus said, "Come." Peter stepped out of the boat and walked on the water to go to Jesus, but when he saw the great waves, he was afraid and began to sink; and he cried out, "Lord, save me." Then Jesus at once put out His hand, and caught him, and said, "O why have you so little faith!" And when they had both got into the boat, the wind left off blowing, and the ship was at the place they were going to at once. Then those in the ship came and knelt down to Jesus, and said, "Of a truth, Thou art the Son of God." One day, Our Lord was with His apostles near the place where the Jews' land joined that of the people who did not know about God. And a poor woman of that country followed Him, and cried after Him, "Have mercy on me, O Lord, Thou Son of David, for my daughter is very ill." But He did not answer her; and so she kept crying to Him till the apostles said, "Send her away, for she crieth after us." They wanted Our Lord to cure her child, so that she might go away. But Jesus said, "I am not sent to any but the Jews." [Illustration: JESUS WALKING ON THE SEA.] [Illustration: OUR LORD AND THE WOMAN OF CANAAN.] Then the woman came and kneeled down to Him, and said, "Lord, help me." And Jesus said, "It is not right to take the children's bread and cast it to the dogs." Did not Our Lord seem unkind? But He was not; He was only trying the woman's faith. But she was very humble; she said, "That is true, Lord, but the dogs eat of the crumbs that fall from their master's table." Then Jesus said, "O woman, great is thy faith, be it unto thee even as thou wilt;" and her daughter was made well that very hour. This woman was at first of the Greek religion; that is, she had worshipped and prayed to idols of stone, whom she called Jove and Apollo and Diana. But she had heard of the God of the Jews, and we think had given up her false gods and believed in Him; for she knew of the expected Christ, and that he would be of David's family. Then her dear child was ill, and she went to Jesus for help. Very great was her faith, as Our Lord said. This was the second miracle Our Lord did for people who were not Jews, but who had learned to believe in God. Our Lord was often spoken to as He went on His way by people who thought they would like to be His disciples, but had not faith enough in the end to give up the things they loved to go with Him. Once a man said to Him, "I will follow You wherever You go." And Jesus said, "Foxes have holes, and the birds of the air have nests, but I, the Son of Man, have not where to lay My head." For the Lord Jesus was very poor; He had no home then on earth. He stayed, we read, sometimes in Peter's house, and with other friends of whom we shall tell you by-and-by. We do not know if the man who spoke still wished to follow Christ; we fear he did not, or we should have heard he did. Another day as He was going on His way, a young man ran up to Him, kneeled down, and said, "Good Master, what good thing shall I do that I may have eternal life?" And Jesus said, "Why do you ask Me concerning that which is good?[A] One there is who is good; but, if you would enter into life keep God's Commandments." The young man asked "Which?" Jesus said, "Thou shalt not kill; thou shalt not steal; thou shalt not bear false witness; honour thy father and mother; thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself." The young man said, "I have kept all these; what is wanting in me?" And Our Lord looking on him loved him, for he was very good; but he had one great fault, he loved money, and Jesus said, "If you would be perfect, go and sell what you have and give to the poor, and you shall have treasure in Heaven; and come, and follow Me." But when the young man heard this he went away sorrowful, for he had great riches, and he did not like to part with them and go about poor with Our Lord's disciples. We are sure that Jesus was sorry for him, and we hope he came back afterwards, but we do not know. Poor young man! he was so good that we think perhaps in the end he did. Our Blessed Lord went through every city and village telling them the glad tidings of the Kingdom of God, and the twelve apostles were with Him. There were some women with them also whom Christ had made well. One was called Mary Magdalene, who had been cured of a sad disease, and Joanna, the wife of Herod's steward, and Susannah, and many others, who brought Our Lord and His apostles food, and did all they could to serve Him. Jesus had many friends as well as cruel enemies. There were some good people who lived at Bethany, a pretty little village near Jerusalem. They were two sisters and a brother, called Martha, Mary, and Lazarus. When Our Lord was at Jerusalem, He often went to see them; and they were very glad to have Him in their house. Martha bustled about to get a feast for Him and His apostles one day when He came there; but Mary sat at his feet listening to His words. Then Martha thought her sister ought to help her, so she came, and said, "Lord, do you not care that my sister has left me to serve alone? Bid her help me." But Jesus said to her, "Martha, Martha, you are careful and troubled about many things; there is only one thing needful; and Mary has chosen that good part that shall not be taken away from her." [Illustration: JESUS WITH MARY AND MARTHA.] Jesus was not angry with Martha; He only told her not to be so full of care about earthly things, but to care most for listening to His words. We cannot hear Christ's voice now, but we can hear and read His words still. Do you know where they are found? In the Bible. Our Lord prayed a great deal. Sometimes He prayed all night long; He loved to pray to His Father in Heaven. And one day He told a pretty story to His disciples to teach them how to pray. Two men went into the Temple to pray. One was a Pharisee, the other a publican. The Pharisee stood and prayed, and said, "God, I thank Thee that I am not as bad as other men, or even as this publican; I obey Thy law." The publican stood a great way off and would not lift up so much as his eyes unto Heaven, but struck his breast with his hand to show he was sorry, and said, "God be merciful to me a sinner." The Pharisee boasted how good he was; the publican only asked God to forgive him. Which of the two prayed best? Our Lord said the publican did; for God will not hear the prayers of the proud, but listens to those of the humble. [Illustration: THE PHARISEE AND THE PUBLICAN.] The Lord Jesus has told us that God will give us what we ask for in prayer if we do not pray for wrong things. He says, "Ask, and ye shall receive; seek, and ye shall find; knock, and it shall be opened unto you." The meaning is, If you ask God's help, He will give it; if you seek to find out what is His will, you will find it; if you beg God to make you understand His word, He will let you; for Our Lord said, "If a son ask his father for bread, will he give him a stone, or, if he ask a fish, will he give him a serpent?"--that is, a snake. No; you know he will not. Since, then, even men who are not good will be kind to their children, how much more will your Heavenly Father give good things to them who ask Him! The Lord loves to hear the prayer of a little child. You may pray when you like; at your mothers knee, or in the day if you feel you want God's help. He will hear you if you say in your mind, "Make me a good child, for Christ's sake." One day a lawyer stood up from among the crowd who listened to Our Lord and asked Jesus a question. He did it to try the Lord and see if He would say something that the priests might think wrong. He said, "Master, what shall I do to gain eternal life"--that is, life in Heaven? And Jesus said, "What is written in the law?" And the lawyer said, "The law tells me that I must love the Lord my God with all my heart, and with all my soul, and with all my strength, and my neighbour as myself." Our Lord said, "You have answered right; do this and live." But the lawyer, not yet satisfied, asked, "Who is my neighbour?" And Our Lord answered by telling him a pretty story. A man went down from Jerusalem to Jericho: it was a wild, lonely road over the hills; and he met some thieves who robbed him, took off his clothes, wounded him, and left him for dead by the road-side. And by chance a priest came by that way but he did not help the poor man; he crossed over to the other side of the way and went on. Then, a Levite, one of the men who served the priests in the Temple, came that way; he stopped and looked at the poor man, and then left him and crossed to the other side of the road. Next, a Samaritan came along--you remember, do you not, that the Jews hated the Samaritans?--but this man, when he saw the poor wounded Jew lying in the road, had pity on him. And he went to him and bound up his wounds, putting oil and wine to them, as people used then to do; and he lifted him off the hard ground and put him on his own beast and brought him to an inn and took care of him. And the next day, when he had to go away, he called the host--that is, the man who kept the inn--and gave him two pence--which were worth more than a shilling--and said, "Take care of the poor man, and whatever you spend I will repay you when I come again." [Illustration: THE ROAD FROM JERUSALEM TO JERICHO.] "Which of these three men do you think was neighbour to the man who fell among thieves?" asked Our Lord. And the lawyer could not help answering, "He that had mercy on him." Then Jesus said to him, "Go and do the same." One day Our Lord told His disciples of what would happen soon, how He must go up to Jerusalem and die for them and for all the world; and that made them very sad. About eight days after, He took Peter and James and John with Him and went up a high mountain to pray. It was late, and the disciples were tired, and while Jesus prayed they fell asleep. But a great light woke them, and then they saw a wonderful thing. Our Lord's face shone like the sun, and His robe was white and glittering as the light; and two men stood by Him in shining white robes; and the apostles knew that they were Moses and Elijah. Moses had been dead very, very long, and Elijah had been taken up to Heaven alive; but now, like two bright angels, they talked with Our Lord. What did they talk about? Of how Jesus would go up to Jerusalem and die to save men. The disciples could not quite tell what it meant, and Peter said, "Lord, it is good for us to be here. Let us make here three tents for Thee and Moses and Elijah," not knowing what he said; but, as he spoke, a bright cloud came over them, and they were taken into it, and a voice came out of the cloud and said, "This is My Beloved Son; hear Him." And when the voice was past, Jesus was alone. It was He who was God's Dear Son. Soon after this the disciples began to talk together about which of them should be greatest in the Kingdom of Heaven. And Jesus called a little child to Him, and when He had taken him in His arms, He said to them, "Whoever will receive one of such children in My name receiveth Me, and whosoever shall receive Me receiveth not Me but Him that sent Me." And He told the apostles that they must be as gentle and humble as little children if they would be great in Heaven, for there the humble would be the first, and the proud the last. [Illustration: JESUS AND THE LITTLE CHILDREN.] Our Lord loved little children very much. Soon after this, some mothers brought their children and infants to Jesus that He might touch and bless them; but the apostles told them to go away and not to trouble the Lord. When Jesus knew it He was very angry, and said, "Suffer little children to come unto Me, and do not forbid them, for of such is the Kingdom of God." And He took the little ones in His arms, put His hands upon them, and blessed them. How good and kind Jesus was! Little children ought to love Him with all their heart, and be very good to please Him. Our Lord came, you know, to bear the punishment of our sins; and He told some pretty parables to the Pharisees to try and make them understand why He talked so much to bad men. It was because His great love made Him wish to save them. He told them that if they had a great many sheep and one was lost, the shepherd would leave all the others and go to find the lost one; and when he had found it he would bring it back with great joy. And He said: "If a woman has ten pieces of silver and she loses one she will light a candle and sweep the house and look carefully for it. And when she has found it she will call her friends, and say, Be glad with me; I have found the piece that I had lost, so"--went on Our Lord--"there is joy in Heaven with the angels of God over one sinner that repenteth." Once Our Lord told His disciples a parable of a fig-tree. Fig-trees grow by the side of the road in that land, and people might pick the figs. But this fig-tree grew in a man's garden; and for three years it had borne no figs. Then the master called his gardener and said to him, "For three years I have come to find figs on this tree and there are none; cut it down; it is of no use." But the gardener said, "Lord, let it stay this year, I will dig round it and manure it, and if next year it bears fruit, well; but if not, then you shall cut it down." This parable meant that Christ is always asking God, His Father, to let us have time to be sorry for our sins before we die. It meant, too, that He asked God to give the Jews time to be sorry before He destroyed their city and sent them out of their own land. [Illustration: THE PARABLE OF THE LOST PIECE OF MONEY.] Then He told them this other story: "Once, there was a man who had two sons. The younger of the two said to him one day, 'Father, give me now the share of your money you mean me to have.' And the kind father divided his money between the sons as the greedy one asked. As soon as the younger son had his share he left his father's house and went to a far off land, and there he spent his money in eating and drinking with bad people. And when he had spent all he had, great want came on that land; there was very little food, and bread was very dear. Now this sinful lad had no money left, so he was obliged to go and be a servant to a man of that country, who sent him into his fields to feed pigs; and he had so little food and was so hungry that he would have liked to eat the husks the pigs ate, and no man gave any food to him. Then he felt how sinful he had been, and he said, 'My father's servants have more bread to eat than they want, while I shall die of hunger. I will go back to my father, and say to him, "Father, I have sinned against God and against you, and am not fit to be called your son; make me your servant."' And he arose and went to his father; and when he was yet a great way off his father saw him--a poor, ragged man--and he ran to meet him, and fell on his neck, and kissed him. And the son said, 'Father, I have sinned against Heaven and against thee, I am not good enough to be called thy son; let me be one of thy servants.' But his father quite forgave him, and told the servants to bring the best robe and put it on him, and to put shoes on his feet, and a ring on his hand, and to cook the fat calf that they might eat; and they were merry. "Now, when the elder son, who was in the fields, heard the sound of music and dancing, and was told what the feast was for, he was angry, and would not go in; his father came out and begged that he would. But the son said, 'I have been a good son, but you did not give me a kid that I might make a feast for my friends; yet, now your wicked son is come who has spent all on bad living, you have had the calf killed for him.' It was wrong of this son to be jealous, was it not? He ought to have been glad that his brother had come home again. But his father said, 'Son, you are always with me, and all that I have is yours; but it was right to be glad now, for your brother who was dead is alive again, was lost, and is found.'" [Illustration: THE RETURN OF THE PRODIGAL SON.] Jesus meant to teach us by this story that God will forgive us and love us as soon as we are sorry for being naughty. People who keep on being naughty are said in God's Book to be dead and lost--and so they are--till they are sorry and do better. Now it was winter-time, and a feast was being kept in Jerusalem. Our Lord went to it, and walked in the Temple in Solomon's Porch. Then the Jews came round about Him, and said, "How long do You mean to keep us in doubt"--to be in doubt is not to be sure of a thing--"If You are Christ, tell us plainly?" Jesus said, "I have told you, and you would not believe Me. The works I do show that I am the Christ, but you will not believe. Ye are not My sheep. My sheep hear My voice, and I know them, and they follow Me, and I give unto them eternal life, and no man can take them out of My Father's hand. I and My Father are one." The Jews knew that Our Lord meant to say that He was God, for He was God's Son, and they were so angry that they took up stones to throw at Him and sought to take Him, but it was not yet time for Jesus to die for us all, so He passed from them and went away to the other side of the river Jordan, to the place where John baptized, and many believed on Him there. John the Baptist was dead, another cruel Herod had had his head cut off. It was while Our Lord was here that a man was sent to Him by Martha and Mary to say that Lazarus, their brother, whom the Lord loved, was ill. The sisters thought Jesus would be sure to come and make His dear friend well. But, though Our Lord loved these good people, He did not go at once. He waited for two days, and then He said to His disciples, "Let us go into Judea again." But the disciples said, "Master, the Jews of late tried to kill You; why will You go there again?" Then Jesus said, "Our friend Lazarus is asleep; I go that I may awake him." They did not know what Jesus meant, so they said, "If he is asleep he will get well." Then Our Lord told them that Lazarus was dead, and said that He must now go to him. The apostle Thomas said to the others, "Let us go, too, that we may die with Him." For they thought the Jews would be sure to kill Jesus if He went near Jerusalem; and Martha and Mary lived very near it. Lazarus had been buried four days when they arrived at Bethany. As soon as Martha heard that Jesus was coming, she went out to meet him, and said to Him, "Lord, if You had been here my brother would not have died; but I know that even now if You ask God anything He will give it You." Jesus said, "Thy brother shall rise again." "Yes; I know," said Martha, "he will rise at the last day." But Jesus told her that He could give life to the dead. Then He asked for Mary. She was sitting with a great many friends who had come to comfort her in her grief, but Martha made haste to tell her that Our Lord was come; and Mary went out to the Lord and said, as Martha had, "Lord, if You had been here he would not have died." Then Jesus said, "Where have you laid him?" The Jews had also come out now, and they said, "Come and see." They were all weeping, and Our Lord had such pity for their grief, that He too shed tears. Now the grave was a place in a rock and a stone lay upon it. Jesus said, "Take away the stone." And when they had taken it away, Our Lord said some words to God in heaven, and then He cried out with a loud voice, "Lazarus, come forth." And the dead man came out alive, though he had lain four days in the grave. How glad Mary and Martha must have been! A great many of the Jews who were there, when they saw this wonderful thing, believed that Jesus was the Son of God; but some of them went to the Pharisees and told them what Jesus had done. And they were angry, and said, "What shall we do? for if we let this man alone all will believe in Him, and the Romans will come and take away our place and nation." They meant that the Romans would take them and sell them for slaves, as was sometimes done in those days. Then the high priest said, "One man must die for the people." He did not know how true his words were, for Jesus meant to die to save all men. But the Lord did not let them kill Him yet, He went to another place with his disciples. [Illustration: MARY ANOINTING THE FEET OF JESUS.] However, as soon as the time of the Passover drew near, He went up to Jerusalem, and then to Martha's house, where Lazarus was; and Simon, who had been a leper, made a supper for Him, and Martha waited on Him; but Lazarus sat at the table. Then Mary took a pound of very sweet-scented ointment, that cost a great deal of money, and she put it on the feet of Jesus and wiped His feet with her hair, and the scent went all over the house. Now Jesus had one bad man among His apostles. His name was Judas. He kept the bag in which Our Lord and the disciples put their money, and he used to steal from it. He was vexed when he saw Mary use the sweet ointment; he could have sold it, he thought, and stolen the money if she had given it to Our Lord, and not used it, so he said, "That is a waste, the ointment could have been sold for a great deal and the money given to the poor." But Jesus said, "Let her alone; the poor you have always with you, but Me ye have not always. She has done it for My burial." There were a great many Jews at this feast, they came to see Lazarus who was raised from the dead, as well as Jesus; and many of them believed in the Lord. The priests then thought that they had better kill Lazarus as well as Our Lord, and that very night Judas came to them, and offered to help them take Jesus if they would pay him for it. And they gave him some silver money for doing it--as much as four of our sovereigns--just as much as people paid for a slave. Now the next day, when the people who had gone up to Jerusalem for the feast, heard that Our Lord was coming, they went out to meet Him, with branches of palm-trees in their hands, crying, "Blessed is the King that cometh in the name of the Lord." Jesus had sent for a young ass and was riding on it, and the people, to show how they loved him, and that they would have Him for their King, spread their garments on the ground for the ass to tread on. [Illustration: THE ENTRY INTO JERUSALEM.] And when Our Lord was come near the city, and saw it, He wept over it; He was very sorry that it was so wicked, and He knew that God would destroy it. They went on into Jerusalem, and the people wondered, and said "Who is this?" And the crowd answered, "Jesus of Nazareth!" [Illustration: THE CHILDREN IN THE TEMPLE.] Then, Our Lord went into the Temple, and found there the tables of money and the oxen and sheep as He had before, and He drove them out again. The children, with palms in their hands, had followed Him into the Temple, and sang, with their sweet voices "Hosanna (that is, praise) to the Son of David;" and when the priests heard them they were angry, and said, "Do You hear what these children say?" And Our Lord said, "Yes; have you never heard that out of the mouth of babes and little infants God has perfect praise?" Then Jesus left them and went back to Martha's house, where He slept. For five days more, Our Lord came every morning to Jerusalem, and went back in the evening to the house of Lazarus to sleep. And He taught His apostles many things, and talked with the Pharisees and priests in the Temple. One day, when His disciples showed Him what a grand place the Temple was, He told them that not one stone would be left on another. And He said that one day He would come again to judge the world. One day, He saw a very poor woman--she was a widow--drop two mites--that is, less than a farthing--into the box that was placed for men to give money to the Temple. And Jesus said to His disciples, "This poor widow has cast in more than they all, for the rich men could spare all they gave, but she has given to God all the living she had." You see, God does not mind how small the gift is that we offer to Him, if it is all we can do; He loves the gift of the poor. [Illustration: THE WIDOW'S MITE.] One day some of the wicked people who wanted to find fault with Him, came and asked Our Lord if it was right to pay the tax to the Romans. Jesus said, "Show me a penny;" and when they brought it He said, "Whose likeness is on it and what name?" They said, "Cæsar's." Then said Jesus, "Give to Cæsar the things that are Cæsar's, and to God the things that are God's." It was of no use to teach these men; they would not believe though they heard how wisely Jesus spoke and saw the wonderful works He did. Some of the chief rulers believed on Him, but they were afraid of the Pharisees and would not say that they did; for the Bible tells us they loved the praise of men more than the praise of God. It was on one of the first days of this week, that some Greeks came to the Apostle Philip and said, "Sir, we wish to see Jesus." Philip told Andrew, and they went together to tell Our Lord. Jesus said that the hour was come that He should be glorified, and He spoke to the Greeks, and told them that if any man served Him, God would honour him; and ended His words by saying, "Father, glorify Thy Name," and there came a voice from heaven, saying, "I have both glorified it and will glorify it again." Some of the people who stood by said that it thundered; but others--perhaps the Greeks, who were nearer--said that an angel spoke to Him. Our Lord told them that the voice came not for Him but for their sakes. It was meant to make them believe in Jesus, and these good Greeks must have gone away sure now that He was indeed the expected Christ. Now, Our Lord had told the apostles to get Him a room in which He would eat the Passover with them, and, when they were there, Our Lord took a towel and poured some water into a basin and began to wash His disciples' feet, and wipe them with the towel. But, when He came to Peter, Peter said, "Lord, Thou shalt not wash my feet." He thought it was not fit that Our Lord should do as a servant would. But Jesus said, "If I do not wash you, you have no part in Me." Then Peter let Him do it. Why did Our Lord wash His apostles' feet? To show us that we must not be too proud to do anything for one another. Then Our Lord sat down to supper, and He was troubled, and said, "One of you will give Me up to the priests." And the disciples looked at one another and wondered which of them would be so wicked. Peter made signs to John, who was close to Our Lord, to ask Him; and John did. And Jesus said, "The one to whom I shall give a sop when I have dipped it." And He dipped a piece of bread in some sauce and gave it to Judas, and said to him, "What you are going to do, do quickly." Then, Judas, who knew what Our Lord meant, went out; but the others did not know; they thought Our Lord sent him to give something to the poor. We shall not tell you all Our Lord did and said at this Last Supper; it would be too hard for you to understand; but we will tell you that He grew sad and told His apostles that they would all leave Him that night. Peter said, "Lord, I will go with Thee to prison or to death." Our Lord answered, "I tell you, Peter, before the cock crows you will three times say you do not know Me." When the supper was ended and they had sung a hymn, they went out to the Mount of Olives; and on the way the Lord talked to them, and told them to love one another. [Illustration: THE GARDEN OF GETHSEMANE.] Now, on that Mount, there was a garden called Gethsemane; Our Lord went into it, and with Him He took Peter and James and John, and told them to watch while He prayed. They were tired, and only kept awake a little while; but they heard Our Lord pray. He was very sorrowful, for He knew He must die, and He was sad because men were so wicked; but He said to God, "Not My will, but Thine be done;" and His Father sent an angel from Heaven to comfort Him. Twice Jesus went to His apostles and found them asleep. It must have seemed very unkind of them; but Our Lord was not angry. He said they could not help it, they were so tired. But the third time He came to them He told them to rise, for Judas was coming with the priests to take Him. And just then the priests came with soldiers and lamps, for it was night, and Judas was with them. He said, "I will show you which is Jesus; I will kiss Him." So he went up to Our Lord, and said, "Hail, Master," and kissed Him. Jesus said, "Judas, betrayest thou the Son of Man with a kiss." Then He said to the soldiers, "Whom seek ye?" They said, "Jesus of Nazareth." Our Lord said, "I am He," and they fell on their faces before Him; they felt how great He was. But they soon got up, and when Our Lord said again, "Whom seek ye?" and they answered, "Jesus," He said, "I am He; but let My disciples go." Now Peter had a sword, and he was so angry that he drew it and cut off the ear of one of the high priest's servants. But Our Lord told him to put up his sword, and touched the ear of the wounded man and made it well at once. Was not Jesus good and kind to heal the man who came to take Him? Then all His disciples forsook Him and fled; and the soldiers led Him to the High Priest's house, where all the wicked priests and scribes were sitting up waiting for Him. John and Peter were soon sorry that they had left Our Lord, and went after Jesus. John had a friend in the High Priest's house who let him go in; and then John went and brought Peter in. The priests were very cruel to Our Lord; they told falsehoods about Him. But when they asked Him if He was the Christ, and He said, "I am, and you will see Me one day sitting on the right hand of God, and coming in the clouds with the Holy Angels," they were so angry that they tore their clothes, and said, "He ought to die." And then they began to ill-treat Our Lord, and threw a cloth over His face and beat Him with the palms of their hands, and said, "Tell us who struck You!" [Illustration: "THIS FELLOW WAS WITH JESUS."] Now Peter sat in the part of the great hall that was lower down than that where Our Lord was, and he warmed himself by the fire; and a maid came up, and said to him, "You are one of the men who were with Jesus;" but he said, "I do not know Him." Then another servant said to him, "You are one of His disciples;" but Peter said, "Man, I am not." An hour went by, and then another said, "This fellow was with Jesus." And Peter said he was not, and began to use bad words. Just then the cock crowed; and Our Lord turned and looked at Peter. It must have been such a sad look! and it reminded him of what Our Lord had said, "Before the cock crow thou shalt deny Me three times." And he was so much ashamed and so very sorry that he went out and wept bitterly. Now, when Judas saw that Our Lord would be put to death, he repented, and brought back the thirty pieces of silver to the chief priests, and said, "I have sinned, for I have given up to you an innocent man." The wicked priests answered, "What is that to us? See thou to that." And Judas cast down the pieces of silver and went and hanged himself. Very bad men sometimes cannot bear to live, when they feel how wicked they have been; but it only adds to their sins to kill themselves; for God has said men may not do so. When daylight came, the great crowd of the priests and scribes and their friends led Our Lord from the High Priest's house to that of Pilate, the Roman governor, to have Him judged; for the Romans did not allow the Jews to put any one to death. Pilate was in his hall where he judged people. He came out and asked, "What has this Man done?" "He teaches men wrong," said they; "He tells them not to pay the tax to Cæsar, and says that He is Christ, a King." Then, Pilate went back to the judgment hall and had Christ brought before him, and said, "Are You a King?" Our Lord told him that He was; but not a king of this world; His Kingdom was a heavenly one. Then Pilate went out to the people, and said, "I find no fault in this man." But they were more angry, and cried, "He teaches the people wrongly, from Galilee to this place." When Pilate found that Jesus came from Galilee, he sent Him to Herod to be judged, for Herod was ruler over that part of the land. And when Herod saw Our Lord, he was glad, for he hoped to see some miracle done by Him; and he questioned Jesus with many words; but the Lord would not even speak to the cruel man who had killed John the Baptist. Then Herod grew angry, and he and his soldiers mocked the Lord, and put on Him a purple robe such as kings wear, and sent Him back to Pilate. The priests and scribes then said all manner of false things about Jesus; but He did not speak or answer at all. Then Pilate's wife sent to tell him not to have anything to do with that just man, as she had had a terrible dream about Him. And again Pilate tried to save Him. The Romans set free any prisoner that the Jews asked for at the Passover; so Pilate said to them, "I will have Jesus beaten and then set Him free." But the priests told the people to say, "No; set Barabbas free." Now, Barabbas was a robber. Then Pilate said, "What, then, shall I do with Jesus who is called Christ?" and they said, "Crucify Him!"--that is, "Nail Him to a cross." But Pilate still tried to save Jesus; he told his soldiers to beat Our Lord with great knotted ropes; and then the men made a crown of sharp thorns and pressed it on His head, so that the blood ran down; and they put a reed in His hand, and the purple robe on again, and cried, "Hail, King of the Jews!" and kneeled down to Him, mocking Him. Pilate, thinking that the cruel Jews would be quiet and let Him go if they saw Him thus, took Him out, and said to them, "Behold the Man!" But they only cried more and more, "Crucify Him!" Pilate said, "Take ye Him and crucify Him, for I find no fault in Him." They answered, "We have a law, and by our law He ought to die, because He says He is the Son of God." When Pilate heard that, he was much afraid; he took Our Lord back into the hall, and asked Him, "Whence do you come?" But Jesus did not answer him. Pilate said, "Why do you not answer me? Do you not know that I can crucify you, or let you go free?" But Jesus said that Pilate's power was given from above, and that the Jews had the greater sin. Then Pilate tried very hard to save the Lord, but the Jews cried out again, "If you let this Man go, you are not Cæsar's friend." [Illustration: "I AM INNOCENT OF THE BLOOD OF THIS JUST MAN."] And Pilate was much afraid of Cæsar, who was a cruel man. Then the Jews began to make a great disturbance; but Pilate took water, and washed his hands before them, and said, "I am innocent of the blood of this just Man; see ye to it." Was this true? No. Pilate ought to have rather died himself than let a good man be killed. But fear often makes men wicked. Be ashamed to be a coward. Then the soldiers took the robe off Christ, and put His own clothes on Him, and led Him away to crucify Him. At first they made Him carry the great cross on which He was to be nailed; but He fainted under the weight and fell, and then they made a man they met carry it for Him. They nailed the dear Lord's hands and feet to the cross; but first they wanted Him to drink some wine and myrrh that He might not feel the pain so much, but He would not drink it. Now, the mother of Jesus stood by the cross with his favourite apostle, John. How sad it was for her to see her dear Son in such pain! But Jesus still thought of her. He looked at John, and said, "Woman, behold thy son;" and to John He said, "Behold thy mother;" and from that hour John was a good son to the mother of his Lord. Then Our Lord prayed to God for the cruel Jews. He said, "Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they do"--that is, they did not know that He was God's Son. There were two thieves crucified with Christ, one on each side. One of them was wicked; the other was sorry for his sin, and asked Jesus to forgive him. The Lord told him, "To-day you shall be with Me in Paradise"--the happy place, you know. Then a great darkness came on like night, and there was a hush--the cruel Jews had been mocking Our Lord; now, they were frightened. The darkness lasted for three hours; then light came back. Our Lord said, "I thirst." And the soldiers dipped a sponge in vinegar, and put it on a reed and held it to His lips. When He had tasted it, He said, "It is finished!" and bowed His head and died. Then the earth and the city shook, and the Roman Captain, close by, said, "This Man really was the Son of God." The Jews asked Pilate to take Our Lord and the others down from the crosses, because the next day was their Sabbath. So he sent to see if they were dead. Jesus was, but, to make sure, one of the soldiers stabbed His side with a spear. The thieves were not dead; so their legs were broken, that when taken down they might not get away, and die sooner. Then a rich man, named Joseph, begged Pilate to let him bury Our Lord, and Pilate said he might. So Joseph, and Nicodemus, who came to Jesus by night, wrapped Him in white linen and put Him in a grave that Joseph had made for himself in a garden, and a great stone was put for a door to it. The Jews begged Pilate to set a guard upon the tomb for fear the disciples should take the Lord away; for they remembered that He had said He would rise again. So Pilate sent a great many soldiers to watch. But at day-dawn an angel of the Lord came down from Heaven: his face was bright as the lightning, and his robe as white as snow; and the earth shook very much as he came down. He rolled away the stone that shut the tomb, and sat on it. The guards were nearly dead with fear, and made haste away. Now, the women who loved the Lord were coming to put sweet spices on Him, even while it was dark. But when they came, they saw that the stone was rolled away, and that the grave was empty; so Mary Magdalene ran off at once to tell Peter and John of it. The other women went and looked into the tomb, and there they saw two bright angels, and they were afraid. But the angels said, "Do not be afraid. We know you are looking for Jesus; He is not here; He is risen. Go and tell Peter and the disciples that He is risen." And they made haste to take the message. And while they were going, some of the watch came into the city and told the chief priests all that had been done; how an angel had come down and rolled away the stone from the tomb. The priests were afraid, and called the elders together to ask their advice; it was that they should give a great deal of money to the soldiers and tell them to say that the disciples came in the night, and stole Our Lord's body away while they were asleep, and this wicked thing they did. They paid the Roman soldiers to tell a falsehood, and said that they would take care that Pilate should not punish them for sleeping on their watch; for which they might be put to death. [Illustration: PETER AND JOHN AT THE GRAVE OF OUR LORD.] Then Peter and John came with Mary Magdalene, and looked into the tomb, but it was empty--only the linen lay folded up on one spot. They were very much surprised, but by-and-by they went home. Mary did not; she stood crying by the tomb. Then she looked into the grave, and she also saw the two angels. They said to her, "Why do you weep?" She said, "Because they have taken away my Lord, and I do not know where they have laid Him." She turned back as she spoke, and Jesus stood close by her, but she did not know Him. He said, "Why do you weep?" Mary was crying so much she could not see His face, and she thought He was the gardener, so she said, "Sir, if you have taken my Lord away, tell me where you have laid Him, and I will take Him away." Jesus said, "Mary!" When she heard His voice and her name, she knew who He was, and kneeled down to Him. He told her to go and tell "His brothers"--the disciples--that He had come out of the grave and would soon go up to Heaven. [Illustration: JESUS AND MARY MAGDALENE.] Then the Lord Jesus went and spoke to Peter, because the kind Saviour knew how sad he was. [Illustration: "PEACE BE TO YOU."] Two disciples that day were walking to a place eight miles from Jerusalem. They were very sad, talking about Our Lord, when He came up and walked with them; but He did not let them know who He was. He asked them why they were sad, and they told Him it was because Jesus was dead. Then He made them understand that Jesus died that they might go to Heaven, and they were quite glad of what He said. They begged Him to go in with them to supper, and He went in; and when He took bread and blessed it they knew Him at once. But He passed away, they could not tell how, so they made haste to go back to Jerusalem to tell the Apostles. They found them all, except Thomas, in one room, with the doors shut, but before they could tell their tale, the men said, "Our Lord has risen from the dead, and has been seen by Peter." Then the two told how He had walked with them; and while they spoke Jesus stood in the midst of them, and said, "Peace be to you;" and He showed them the holes of the nails in His hands and feet. Then they knew that it was the Lord. They told Thomas of it, but he was so sad he could not believe them. "You must make a mistake," he said; "I will not believe Our Lord is alive again unless I can put my hand in His side, where the spear went in, and my fingers in the holes of the nails." [Illustration: OUR LORD APPEARING TO THOMAS.] The next first day of the week--Sunday--they were all in the room, Thomas too, when Our Lord came into the midst of them, and said to Thomas, "Put out your hand and feel my side, and put your fingers in the nail-holes." Then Thomas kneeled down and said, "My Lord and my God." Jesus said, "Thomas, because you have seen Me you believe; blessed are they who have not seen, and yet have believed." Our Lord stayed forty days on earth, and often came and talked to His disciples; once He came to five hundred all in one place. But some of the apostles went back to their boats. There were together Peter, James and John, Thomas, Nathanael, and two other disciples. They went out to fish; but all night they did not catch one, and when day broke Jesus stood on the shore. They did not know Him, and He asked if they had any fish. They said, "No;" and then He told them to cast their net on the right side of the ship. They did so, and now the net nearly broke with the weight of the fish. Then John said, "It is the Lord," and Peter at once swam ashore to Jesus. The others came in the boat dragging the net full of fish. And when they came to the shore they saw a fire of coals and fish laid on it, and bread. And Jesus told them to bring some of their own fish; there were a hundred and fifty great ones in the net, but it did not break. Then Jesus said, "Come and dine;" and He gave them fish and bread. When they had dined, the Lord said to Peter, "Do you love Me more than these?" Peter said, "Yes, Lord; You know that I love You." Then Christ said, "Feed My lambs." Again He asked Peter, "Do you love Me?" "Yes, Lord," said Peter. Then said Jesus, "Feed My sheep." A third time He asked Peter, "Do you love Me?" Peter was grieved because Jesus asked him three times; he thought Our Lord remembered that he had three times said he did not know Him, and he said, "Lord, You know all things; You know that I love You." Then Jesus said, "Feed My sheep." Who are Christ's lambs? Little children, whom Jesus loves; to feed the sheep and lambs means to teach them. [Illustration: OUR LORD APPEARING TO THE DISCIPLES.] Then Jesus said to Peter, "When you were young you walked where you would; but when you are old you shall stretch forth your hands, and another shall gird you and carry you where you do not wish to go." Jesus thus foretold Peter's death; who, when old, was crucified. Peter asked Our Lord what John would do--you remember that John and Peter were great friends--and Jesus gently reproved him for asking, by saying, "If I will that he tarry till I come, what is that to thee?" Our Lord also told His disciples to go all over the world and tell people about Him, and baptize them; and then He took them out to the Mount of Olives, and, while He was blessing them, He was taken up, and a cloud hid Him from their sight; but they stood a long time looking up after their Lord, till two angels came to them, and said, "Why do you stand looking up into Heaven? This same Jesus who is taken up from you into Heaven will come again in the same way as you have seen Him go up." Then the disciples were very glad, and they went back to Jerusalem. Has not the story of Our dear Lord made you love Him? We hope so; and if you love Him you will be a good child to please Him, for He sees you now from where He sits at God's right hand, whence He will come by-and-by and--if you obey Him--will take you to live with Him in Heaven. [Illustration] PRINTED BY BALLANTYNE, HANSON AND CO. LONDON AND EDINBURGH. FOOTNOTE: [A] New Version, St. Matt. xix, 17. [Illustration] * * * * * Transcriber's Notes: Page 19, "it" changed to "It" (It was right) Page 36, word "he" added to text (came a ruler and he) 
45952	----	made available by the HathiTrust Digital Library.) THE EVOLUTION OF OLD TESTAMENT RELIGION THE EVOLUTION OF OLD TESTAMENT RELIGION BY W. E. ORCHARD, B.D. LONDON JAMES CLARKE & CO., 13 & 14, FLEET STREET 1908 TO My Wife PREFACE The substance of this book was originally delivered as a Course of Lectures to a week-night congregation. The Lecture form has been retained, and this accounts for the repetition of the leading ideas, while the practical interests of Church life account for the insistence on the religious value and lesson. It is hoped that this, which might be irritating to the professional student, may be helpful to the ordinary reader who is repelled by the technicality of critical works, and often fails to discern the devout spirit by which such works are inspired, or to discover what religious interest is served by them. Where everything is borrowed from other writers, and no claim to originality is made, detailed acknowledgment would be impossible, but the resolve to attempt some such course in place of the usual form of a week-night service was formed in the Hebrew class-room of Westminster College, Cambridge, while listening to the Lectures on Old Testament Theology and Messianic Prophecy, delivered by the Rev. Professor Dr. Skinner (now Principal), in which accurate scholarship was combined with a deep insight into the present religious importance of these subjects. Grateful acknowledgment is also due to the Rev. J.R. Coates, B.A., who kindly read through the proofs and made many valuable suggestions. W. E. ORCHARD. ENFIELD, _August, 1908_. CONTENTS LECTURE PAGE INTRODUCTION vii I. THE SEMITIC RACES 19 II. THE PRIMITIVE RELIGION OF THE HEBREWS 31 III. MOSAISM 55 IV. THE INFLUENCE OF CANAAN 83 V. PROPHETISM--EARLY STAGES 107 VI. THE RELIGION OF THE LITERARY PROPHETS 135 VII. THE EFFECT OF THE EXILE 169 VIII. THE WORK OF THE PRIESTS 195 IX. THE RELIGION OF THE PSALMISTS 215 X. THE RELIGION OF THE WISE 241 XI. MESSIANIC EXPECTATIONS 265 INTRODUCTION It is a matter of common knowledge that within the last few decades a tremendous change has come over our estimate of the value of the Old Testament, and that this change is of the gravest importance for our understanding of religion. But what the exact nature of the change is, and what we are to deduce from it, is a matter of debate, for the facts are only known to professional students and to a few others who may have been led to interest themselves in the subject. With some, for instance, the idea prevails that the Old Testament has been so discredited by modern research that its religious significance is now practically worthless. Others believe that the results arrived at are untrue, and regard them as the outcome of wicked attacks made upon the veracity of the Word of God by men whose scholarship is a cloak for their sinister designs or a mask of their incapacity to comprehend its spiritual message. There is perhaps a middle course open to some who have found a message of God to their souls in the Old Testament, and who, on hearing that the authorship of this book has been questioned or the historicity of that passage assailed, are unmoved, because they believe that it does not matter who wrote the Pentateuch or the Psalms so long as through these documents they hear the voice of the living Word of God. Here then is a subject on which there exists a distressing confusion, and, moreover, a subject in which ignorance plays no small part. Save with a few devout souls who have made a long and continuous study of the Scriptures, it may be doubted whether there is any widespread knowledge of the actual message of the Old Testament, even among Christian people. There are certainly many people willing to defend the authority of the Bible who spend very little time in reading it. The favourite Psalms and the evangelical passages of Isaiah are probably well known, and beyond this there is but the knowledge gained in early days, from which stand out in the memory the personalities of Samson and Saul, David and Goliath, and Daniel in the lion's den, together with the impressive stories of the Flood, the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah, the crossing of the Red Sea, and the fall of Jericho. A very little is probably carried away from the public reading of the Scriptures in places of worship. It cannot be said that this acquaintance conveys any real impression of the magnificent message that lies embedded in these thirty-nine books which go to make up the Old Testament. Now whatever harm may be charged to the modern methods, it can at least be claimed that neglected portions have been carefully studied, the meaning of obscure passages discovered, and much of importance and interest brought to light; but more than this, it has been discovered that the essential message of the Old Testament lies largely apart from those narratives and personalities that impress the superficial reader, and rather in the record of a gradual development of the conception of God and of His purpose in calling Israel to be the recipient of His self-disclosure. It has been found that the striking figures of the landscape are of less importance than the road that winds among them along which revelation moves to its final goal. It may be objected that the new inspiration, which so many who have studied the Scriptures by these methods claim to have felt, throws quite a new emphasis on our conception of the Old Testament and is revolutionary of all that we have been accustomed to believe concerning it; that the methods are such as could not legitimately be applied to the Word of God, and are the products of a criticism which is puffed up with a sense of its own superiority; and that the results are discreditable to the Old Testament, since they allege that some of the narratives are unhistorical, some passages and even whole books unauthentic, and traditions on which the gravest issues have been staked shown to have nothing more than a legendary basis. There is much in these objections that is natural, but much that is misunderstanding. It is true that the contribution which the Old Testament makes to religion is estimated differently from what it was fifty years ago, and it must be allowed that this brings a charge of having misunderstood the Scriptures against generations of scholars and saints. But it is admitted that all matters of knowledge are open to misunderstanding. It is no argument against the conception that the earth moves round the sun, that the contrary idea was held in other ages. We know that the understanding of the Old Testament has been obscured, often by those who ought to have been the greatest authorities on its meaning. Jesus read into the Scriptures a meaning unrecognised by the authorities of His day, and dealt with them in a fashion that was regarded as revolutionary. To some of the Scriptures He appealed as to a final authority, but others He regarded as imperfect and only suited to the time in which they were written. The Jews of His day venerated every letter of the sacred writings, and regarded the very copies of the Law as sacred to the touch, and yet on their understanding of the Scriptures they rejected the mission and message of Jesus. Christian scholarship has undoubtedly followed rather after the Rabbis than after Christ. The message of the Old Testament that the new methods have made clear certainly appears to be more in conformity with the Spirit of Christ than with that of His opponents, and if this is revolutionary then it is no new thing; religion always moves along such lines. Great offence has been caused and insuperable prejudice aroused among many by the name under which these methods have become known. The name, "higher criticism," conveys to most people a suggestion of carping fault-finding and an assumption of superiority. This is due to an entire misunderstanding of a technical term. Criticism is nothing more than the exercise of the faculty of judgment, and, moreover, judgment that ought to be perfectly fair. The sinister suggestion that is conveyed in the word is due to the fact that our criticisms are so often biassed by personal prejudices. But this only condemns our faults, and not the method. "Higher" criticism does not mean any assumption of superiority, but is simply a term used to distinguish it from "lower" criticism. The criticism that endeavours to ascertain the original text by a comparison of the various documents available is called _lower_, and that which deals with matters higher up the stream of descent by which the writings have been conveyed to us, namely, matters of date and authorship, is called _higher_ criticism. It might well be called literary and historical criticism, in distinction from textual criticism. It employs historical methods, and uses the simple tests of comparison and contemporaneity. For the understanding of a particular age, it prefers those documents that describe the times in which they were written, and give indirect evidence, rather than those histories which were written long after the event and which reveal a purpose other than the strictly historical. Fortunately, we have in the Old Testament many such contemporary and indirect witnesses in the writings of the Prophets. They are not consciously writing history, but they tell us indirectly what the practices of their day were, and especially what religious ideas were prevalent; for it is these things that they feel called upon to attack. With these reliable standards we can compare the regular histories, which were necessarily written at a much later age, and very often to serve some religious purpose. Now it is this method, which is surely a true and proper one, that has changed our estimate of the history and development of religion in Israel. Are we to condemn the method without examination because it destroys certain traditions about the Bible which we have received largely from Judaism?--the Judaism which could find no place for Jesus! But it will be answered that these methods yield results that are incompatible with the inspiration of the Bible, and are unworthy of God's revelation to us. But how are we to decide what is compatible with inspiration? We can only tell, surely, by seeing what these results are and by discovering whether they bring any inspiration to us. Can we be certain, without examining the facts, to what lines the revelation of God is to be restricted? Is this not coming to the Bible with a theory which we have manufactured and which will surely distort the facts? It will be said that anything less than absolute accuracy makes void any claim to be a Divine revelation. Let us consider what this means. We know that the historical spirit, which endeavours to see history as it actually happened quite apart from our desires or sympathies, is an ideal which has only emerged with the general spread of education, and that in ancient times history was written largely with a view to edification, and especially for giving such lessons as would lead to right principles being adopted for the future. It was not the accuracy of the material but suitability for its purpose that weighed with the historian. Now, with these conditions existing, was it impossible for God to speak to men through their conceptions of history, or had He to wait until the historical spirit prevailed? Could He not use the early legends which they believed, and through them bring the truth to men? We know that the greatest of all religious teachers did not scruple to embody the highest truths in such parables as lowly minds could receive. We may demand that revelation shall be infallible, but this would need in turn an infallible person to receive it, and even then an infallible interpreter. An infallible revelation would mean that there could never be any progress in revelation; that it would have to be given perfect in one process; that it would have to be authenticated to men by authority, since it would be beyond the understanding of a fallible mind; that it would break in upon every other experience, remain isolated, and never be grasped by that strong conviction which we call faith; and this would entail a destruction of the mental faculties of man, and an acknowledgment that communication between God and man is really impossible. Could not God speak to man in his infancy, and with the growing understanding would there not be growing light? Meanwhile, whatever we feel about these abstract principles, we ought to know the facts. In the pages that follow an endeavour is made to present the results at which a consensus of opinion has arrived. There will be no great time spent in argument for or against these facts. Such are to be sought in the scientific works and in the dictionaries, which alone can deal adequately with these facts, but since many altogether refuse to consider the facts because of the inferences which they think can be drawn from them, this book is an earnest plea for earnest men to consider whether it is not open to be shown that from these facts there comes to us a much clearer understanding of God's ways with man; a more certain conviction that in the past God has actually spoken through the Scriptures; a clue to a better understanding of the place Jesus occupies in the history of revelation; and what we all need greatly to-day: a preparation of heart that we may follow the leading of that Spirit who ever has and who ever will guide into all truth those who are willing to follow Him. The aim of this book is that the reader may feel that the voice which speaks in his own heart and the voice which has guided man through all his strange history is One, and is of God. THE SEMITIC RACES _Read, as Introduction to this Lecture, the Tenth Chapter of Genesis._ This is one of the most interesting documents in anthropology. It is an attempt at a scientific ethnology, and seems to have been expanded from the closing verses of the preceding chapter. It will be noticed that those verses are in poetical form (R.V.), and are likely to be very ancient. Note the principles of classification:-- (1) Geographical. It is a very incomplete summary of the peoples of the earth. Only those nations are mentioned that fill the horizon of the writer's knowledge. That horizon will be found to correspond very largely with that of the prophets Jeremiah and Ezekiel. (2) Prejudice. The evident kinship of some peoples is denied on the ground of dislike; for the same reason, Moab and Ammon, who are well known, are simply omitted. The real test of kinship is language, which is here ignored. The names are not to be taken as individuals. Of this the very form is witness: Ludim is plural, Mizraim is dual, Tarshish is the name of a place, and Amorite is gentilic. Notes:-- Verse 2. Madai = Medes. Javan = the Greeks, or more particularly, the Ionians. Verse 4. Tarshish is probably Spain. Kittim = the Cretans. Dodanim (read Rodanim 1 Ch. i. 7) = the inhabitants of Rhodes. Verse 6. Mizraim: the name for Egypt. Canaan: here and elsewhere said to be descended from Ham. Beyond all doubt the Canaanites were a Semitic people and spoke a language akin to Hebrew. Religious antagonism and the fact of their conquest demanded in the popular imagination a different ancestry. Verse 14. "Whence went forth the Philistines" is misplaced, and should follow after "Caphtorim" (Amos ix. 7). Verse 21. Eber: the name of the supposed ancestor of the Hebrews. Verse 22. Elam = Persia. Racially the Elamites were quite distinct from the Semites. This inclusion may be a clue to the date of this Table of Nations; friendship with Persia dates from Cyrus (Sixth Century B.C.). (See Driver's "Genesis.") Lecture I THE SEMITIC RACES The Hebrew nation forms a branch of that group of the human family known as the Semites. Their relation to the other great racial divisions of mankind is far beyond the reach of our enquiry, and we cannot even penetrate to a period when the Semites formed an unbroken family. At the remotest date to which history can take us we find the family already widely dispersed, with distinct national characteristics well developed, and their common ancestry quite forgotten in their violent hatreds of their unrecognised kinsmen. Indeed it is only the test of language which still preserves for us an indisputable proof of their common origin. Their existence can be traced back to a very remote date, for fragments of their literature and other evidences of civilisation have been discovered that have been dated 5000-4000 B.C., and even at that period the language shows signs of phonetic degeneration that require a still further period for the process to have reached this stage. The primitive home of the Semites cannot have been, however, where these ancient remains have been found, namely, in the Euphrates valley, for the records themselves show that they were only immigrants there and had replaced the original inhabitants, who came of Sumerian stock. Neither was it in Palestine, as our own Bible will tell us; but it is probably to be sought in Arabia, where the purest Semitic stock is still to be found. In this desert home the race was bred that was destined to have such a tremendous influence on the history of the world, and it is largely to this desert training that we can trace influences which have made them what they are. The battle for life in that inhospitable land would mould a physique capable of extraordinary endurance, and to this we can perhaps trace the virility of the modern Jew, who has resisted for centuries the poisonous ghettos of European cities and remains far healthier than his indigenous neighbours. This hard training fitted them for an exacting life, and in the Phoenicians they became the traders of antiquity, and in the Carthaginians and Saracens, warriors not to be despised. Hardness easily becomes cruelty, and purely Semitic empires, such as Assyria, developed a barbarous cruelty, the story of which is told on their inscriptions and in the denunciations of the Hebrew Prophets. There is something in the Semitic character that is disliked by Western nations, and the Jews have been subjects of relentless persecution in mediæval times, and are still capable of arousing bitter hostility, as may be seen from those violent eruptions of anti-Semitism which occasionally burst through the cosmopolitanism of Western Europe. The well-defined limitations of their primitive home--crushed in between the continents of Europe, Africa and Asia, the neutral ground of the Eastern and Western worlds--seem almost to be reflected in the limitations of their mental development. The Semitic tongue is crude in its simplicity and incapable of expressing an abstract idea, and it is natural to find as a result that the philosophical faculty is almost entirely missing. Although they have given to the world an alphabet, a system of numeration which has made mathematics possible, and the beginnings of measurement and of the science of astronomy, yet their mind is not scientific in the modern sense. They possess, as perhaps no other race, the gift of telling stories of wonder and mystery, and for a simple tale of love and pathos they are unsurpassed. They have produced the finest lyrical literature of the ancient world, but have contributed hardly anything to dramatic or epic poetry, and their achievements in art have been cramped by their religious prejudices. But in the realm of religion they are supreme, and have become the high-priests of humanity, for from them have gone forth three great religions, and one of these capable of development into the universal religion of mankind. These faiths have not been slowly evolved from the national consciousness, but have both sprung from and been embodied in inspiring personalities; for have they not given to the world Moses and the Prophets, Mahomet, and the Son of Man? The Semites are divided by anthropologists into the following groups: Southern Group--North Arabians, Sabæans, Abyssinians; Northern Group--Babylonians, Assyrians, Aramæans, Canaanites, Hebrews; and all these groups seem to have been formed from the original stock by migrations from their home in Arabia. The contracted area of the Arabian peninsula, the inability of the land to support a large population, coupled with their restless spirit and the constant feuds between the tribes, made emigration a necessity at a very early period. The exact history and order of these migrations it is now impossible to trace, but it would seem that the first great movement was eastward, whither they were drawn by the culture and wealth of the Sumerian civilisation in the Euphrates valley. It is quite possible that this movement commenced 6000 years before Christ. At a later date they seem to have invaded Egypt and left some traces upon the language and customs of that land. The land of Syria would offer a near and easy home for the emigrants, and yet the first Semites to arrive in Palestine seem to have come from the Euphrates. The inhabitants they displaced were the Hittites, who probably came from Asia Minor; they were Turanians, and were akin to the present inhabitants of Armenia. It is only lately that excavation has revealed the remains of a Hittite Empire in Palestine. The first Semitic tribes to reach Palestine pushed down to the seaboard, where they developed a wonderful maritime civilisation and became the daring traders and explorers who are known in history as the Phoenicians; the other tribes occupied the hill country and became the Canaanites of Bible story. Of the next migration westward, the Bible preserves a popular account in the story of the journey of Abraham from Ur of the Chaldees. Now Abraham and his descendants were called Hebrews, and this name is traced to an ancestor who was called Eber or Heber. It is doubtful whether an _individual_ so named ever existed. The name "Hebrew" means "one from the other side," and would therefore have been a suitable name for those who crossed the Euphrates, coming from Arabia; but of this movement the Bible knows nothing. Some have supposed that the name was given much later to the tribes who entered Palestine across the Jordan. The discovery of the Tel-el-Amarna tablets has somewhat complicated our understanding of these events. These tablets were letters written by the vassal-kings of Syria to their overlord Amenophis III., King of Egypt, and in them the King of Jerusalem calls for help against some tribes who are invading the country and whom he names _Habiri_. Now the date of this correspondence is about 1500 B.C., and if these are the Hebrews, we shall have to suppose that not all the tribes of Israel went down into Egypt or that the Exodus took place some two centuries earlier than the date given in the Bible; but the whole question of the identification of the Habiri is not yet certain. It is, however, with those Hebrew tribes who were afterwards known as the children of Israel that we have to do; and however remote, and by whatever stages it is to be traced, their Semitic relationship is certain. Their own tradition of the birthplace of Abraham shows that they are conscious of their common origin with the Babylonians; the stories in Genesis acknowledge their kinship with Moab and Ammon, even though national hatred has coloured the account of their birth (Gen. xix. 30-38). They formed a brotherly covenant with Edom, and Ishmael is recognised not only to be kin but to be the elder. The Canaanites were disowned wrongly, for they were certainly Semites; but the Philistines rightly, for they came into Palestine over-sea from Crete. We need always to bear in mind that our Bible is the product of Semitic thought, and whatever its universal message, it is expressed in the forms of Semitic genius; and yet that the Hebrews stand out from the other Semitic nations is indisputable, and the distinguishing mark is the purity of their religion. What is the cause of that difference? How came such a tender root out of such a dry ground? Renan is responsible for the popular idea that the Semites have a natural tendency towards Monotheism. The idea should present no difficulties for a theory of Revelation, but it is certainly not true. It is not true of the general type of Semitic religion, and it cannot be claimed, in the face of the Prophets' record of their countrymen's lapses, that it was true even of the Hebrews. If it were said that there was that in Semitic history and character which, provided opportunity were given, would offer a congenial soil for the reception of monotheistic ideas, it would be the utmost that could be said. Neither is there more truth in the antithesis that contrasts the Aryan conception of God as immanent with the Semitic as transcendent; for in their primitive stages Aryan and Semitic religions are alike. Primitive Semitic religion is indeed quite polytheistic; every tribe has its own god and this god is closely identified with a particular locality. Therefore, to be an outcast from the tribe meant to be an exile from the protection and service of the god. This idea can be found in the Bible as late as David, who thought that if he were driven forth from his own land he would have to serve other gods (1 Sam. xxvi. 19). The god is conceived to be the father of the tribe, while the land is the mother, and this in quite a physical and literal sense. The same idea is of course frequent in the Greek religions, and some such conception must be the original of the strange tradition in Genesis (vi. 1), which describes a union between the sons of God and the daughters of men. The connection of the god with the tribe is therefore simply a matter of blood descent, and the blood becomes in consequence invested with sacred virtues. The blood of the tribe cannot be shed by one of the members without incurring the vengeance of the god; and the use of the blood of animals in various ceremonies may point to the belief in a common ancestry for men and animals; in some tribes the animal is regarded as a superior being, and is actually worshipped. The blood of animals even is thought to be too sacred for human consumption, and is therefore set apart by libation as suitable food for the god. Seeing that the connection between the god and man is only tribal, the shedding of the blood of any other tribe is quite allowable; for the tribal god cares only for his own people, and others cannot approach him (2 Kings xvii. 27). It is evident that a religion based upon such ideas can never be a factor in the moral development of a people. It only needs to provide for help against enemies, counsel in times of national affliction, and oracles for difficult problems of judgment; therefore, in times of national prosperity and security, it will play no part beyond that of custom; and custom often seems the stronger in proportion to its lack of meaning. We may insist that the Hebrew religion is superior to all this because it owes its origin to the special revelation of God; but even that does not preclude us from enquiring through what natural causes this revelation came, if we believe that natural causes form some part of the working of the Divine mind. Now these ideas common to Semitic religion persisted among the Hebrews and were only shaken by the earnest ministry of the Prophets, and eventually destroyed by the reflection which followed the national disaster of the Exile. The continued national trouble of Israel was therefore a factor in her advance in the truth, and she stands as a witness to the possibility of suffering being an educative force. Moreover, she found that her Promised Land was only a little strip hemmed in between the desert and the sea, where all dreams of world-empire were forbidden. Then it was that this nation turned her thoughts to a spiritual kingdom, and looking across the sea that she feared to cross saw a day when the distant isles should be her possession, because she had given to them the Law of Jehovah, and the knowledge of God. THE PRIMITIVE RELIGION OF THE HEBREWS THE STRATA OF THE PENTATEUCH We give here for reference the proposed identification of the documents that critics say can be recognised in the construction of the first five books of the Bible. The theory has been developed so as to include the Books of Joshua, Judges, and some parts of Samuel, all of which are said to bear the same marks of composition from pre-existing documents. "J." Jahvistic. Dated 900-700 B.C. This document is especially distinguished for using the name of Jehovah, or "Yahwè," and is anthropomorphic in its conception of God. "E." Elohistic. Dated 750-650 B.C. The name for God in this document is "Elohim," and its conception of God is more spiritual and elevated than in "J." "D." Deuteronomist. Dated 650-550 B.C. This document has the style and thought of the Book of Deuteronomy, where it is chiefly, though by no means exclusively found. The central idea of this document is _the one sanctuary_. "P." Priestly Code. Dated 550-400 B.C. This document supplies the framework of the Pentateuch, and is distinguished by its interest in questions of ritual, and by its very legal and stereotyped style. The dates given above are arrived at from a comparison of the ideas expressed in these documents with their emergence in the historical books of the Old Testament. Only for the last two can it be claimed that there are historical events which are said to confirm them. These are: the finding of the Book of the Law in the reign of Josiah, and the promulgation of the Law by Ezra. Lecture II THE PRIMITIVE RELIGION OF THE HEBREWS We have seen from the last lecture that an examination of the general type of Semitic Religion gives us no explanation of the mature development of the Religion of the Hebrews; on the contrary, that development would seem to take place in spite of the common Semitic characteristics, for it is against these characteristics and the natural tendency to return to them that we find the Prophets continually at war. If this is so, can we penetrate to the first stage at which the new religious movement begins which was to reach such glorious heights in Jeremiah, the Psalmists and the Son of Man? It is certainly not to be found in the general character of Semitic religion; does it commence with the ancestor of the Hebrew race, the Patriarch Abraham? To this question the editor of Genesis means to return a decided answer: the true religion of Jehovah existed from the earliest times, and all lower forms are deteriorations from that pure original revelation. The earliest stories in Genesis are made to bear witness to this; Abel offered the true worship of God in that he brought of the best of his flock, thus agreeing with the sacrifice of animals set forth in the fully-developed ritual of Leviticus as the only means of approach to God; Noah offers of "clean" animals; the Patriarchs offer animal sacrifices, and call upon the name of Jehovah; Rebekah goes to enquire of Jehovah and obtains an oracle. The author means to convey by this that the earliest religion was the religion which we find outlined in Leviticus and Deuteronomy, with the exceptions that a priest is not necessary, and that sacrifice is permitted at other places besides the one chosen sanctuary. This idea is enshrined in that favourite name for God which we find in the Old Testament, the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob. We have now to enquire whether this is a correct view of the history, or only the writer's speculations about an age long removed from his own. We are moved to do this because there are certain facts in this history that do not seem to fit in with the author's view. It is evident at the outset, that the writer, whoever he be, is dealing with subjects concerning which he can have at best only second-hand knowledge. This may have been conveyed to him in documents, or in popular tradition. If the object of the compilation of this history was not so much to produce an accurate and exact history as to interpret the past as a religious lesson for his own age, it cannot be instantly dismissed as improbable that he may have altered some of his material so as to accord more closely with his own religious views. Now scholars say that they can detect the presence of various documents, which have been loosely combined and coloured with the editor's own ideas of what should have taken place. There is hardly any theory which has excited more ridicule from a certain class of Biblical students. The idea is dismissed offhand as utterly unworthy of a sacred writer; and even if he did adopt such a scissors-and-paste method of compiling history, it is denied that anyone could detect the various strata now. No defence of these claims of the critical school need be attempted here, for we are taking their theories as granted, with the idea of seeing what their acceptance as true would mean to our estimate of the Bible and Revelation; but it may be shown that the Evangelist Luke is not ashamed to confess that he used something like this method in compiling his Gospel. From the Table that faces this lecture, it will be seen that the critics give dates for these documents that lie very far apart, and if the dates are even approximately true, it is a fair conclusion that with such wide separation of time, and with the consequent difference both in language and idea, there should be sufficient criteria to detect the different strata. The critics who have attempted the disintegration of the original documents of the Pentateuch have been challenged to show their fitness for such a task by extricating the respective contributions in a joint authorship novel such as "The Chaplain of the Fleet," by Walter Besant and James Rice. Or, again, such claims are discounted on the ground of the known failures of professional literary critics to recognise under pseudonym or anonymity, the style of a well-known author, or even to guess correctly the sex of the writer. The analogy fails because the circumstances are entirely different. It would be on more equal terms to deny that it would be possible to distinguish, say, the personal opinions of the author of an English History from the passages quoted from the Doomsday Book, Chaucer, or an Act of the Long Parliament, if all quotation marks and references were omitted. For according to the witness of the very documents themselves this conception of the early history must be set aside as not quite correct. The history in Genesis is conscious that some new start began with Abraham: he abandoned idolatry. Still more clearly is it seen that with Moses another epoch began, for according to one document, the very name of Jehovah was unknown before its revelation to Moses (Exod. vi. 2, 3). We are, therefore, faced with the necessity of enquiring how much of the stories of the Patriarchs can be called history in any true sense. The reasons for and against their historical value may be summarised: _Against_: (1) The stories must have been composed long after the events took place. (2) Tribal movements and personal incidents seem to have been confused. (3) The endeavour to explain the origin of personal and geographical names is often merely popular, and etymologically incorrect. (Compare with this the common errors of our own day; for instance, the explanation of the name of Liverpool from a supposed bird called the liver, now known to be entirely mythical.) (4) While the contemporary history of this period is now quite an enlightened field, and the life, character, and customs of the inhabitants of Palestine in this age of the Patriarchs comparatively well known, we look in vain for any mention of these persons themselves. _For_:(1) The narratives of the Patriarchs are admitted by critics to have been taken from at least two documents of separate origin and of different dates. This should double the weight of the evidence. (2) The simplicity of the narratives in many places looks like a relation of fact. (But over against this must be placed the genius for relating a story of pure fiction which is so peculiar a distinction of the Semites. Some of the narratives are quite artificial; as the story of Isaac's lie to shield his wife, which follows a similar story related of Abraham.) (3) We might appeal to the memory of the Bedawin reciters, who can repeat almost incredibly long portions of the Koran. The most likely solution of this conflicting evidence would seem to be that in the history of the Patriarchs we have a modicum of historical foundation which has been worked up into popular and idealised legends. If the stories of the three Patriarchs be carefully studied, it will be noticed that while the stories of Jacob are matter of fact, and do outline a conceivable character, the stories of Isaac produce only a nebulous character impression, while Abraham stands forth as a character which has been idealised. This would be an accountable psychological process: in the case of Jacob a good deal of detail is remembered, Isaac is almost forgotten, while in the case of Abraham, only the name and a few incidents are known, which serve to form the framework of a religious lesson. It is, however, in the conception of their religion that idealisation has most plainly occurred, for it is mainly the religion of the Ninth Century, that is, of the age immediately preceding the great literary Prophets. In the documents themselves there is left to the careful reader ample indication in customs and narratives, the meaning of which has escaped the notice of the editor, that a more primitive form of religion prevailed. It would seem, as we have seen, that the name of Jehovah was unknown to them, while there are evident tokens of polytheistic belief (Gen. xxxi. 19; xxxv. 1-4). The crudity of the worship may be seen in the frequent reference to the erection of pillars and stones, which, it will be seen later, have more than a merely memorial purpose. The ease with which we find idolatry always reappearing in later history points to some hereditary tendency at work among the mass of the people. If, however, we suppose that the primitive religion was entirely heathen we shall be faced with the problem of discovering some necessary point of departure to which the higher revelation could affix itself. We may suppose, therefore, that among the ancestors of the Hebrews there was held a faith that was relatively purer than that common to the Semites, a faith which contained in itself the guarantee of the possibility of advance, if only favourable conditions arose; that "El, the Mighty One (_Shaddai_)," was worshipped, but along with the retention of customs and ideas that are to be found in some forms of demon worship, that is, with the recognition of many other great spirits, not all of whom are thought of as inimical to man; very much as we find among the North American Indians the idea of a Great Spirit, existing side by side with heathen practices and beliefs. So far our enquiry has not taken us on to very sure ground, and we must seek other methods. In the study of Comparative Religion the idea of a certain natural order of the evolution of religion predominates, but the actual origin of religion is still only a matter of speculation, as indeed it is bound to remain from the very nature of religion itself, since it is a vision of faith, rising in different ages and races through quite different processes. We propose now to take both the speculations and the assured results of the study of Comparative Religion, and using these as tests, see if they have left any traces in the evolution of the Hebrew religion or if they can guide us to its possible origins. The principles of such enquiry and application may be stated. (1) The ascertained customs and ideas of other religions, especially those of the Semites, will form a working hypothesis, and if we then find any reference to these customs or ideas in the Old Testament, it will make towards reasonable proof of a similar origin. (2) We must be careful, however, to exclude customs that are known to have been borrowed from the Canaanites, such as the practice of Baal-worship. (3) At the same time we must beware of assuming, without further enquiry, that all the observances ordained by the religion of Jehovah whose origins are connected with some historical event are to be thought of as having their beginning then. It is more than likely that when a long-established custom was recognised to be heathen in its origin or tendency, it would be strictly forbidden, as in the case of the heathen practice of necromancy; others which had lost their original meaning would be baptised into a new significance under the new religion. (With this phenomenon may be compared our own festival of Christmas Day, taken over from the Roman Saturnalia, and our mourning customs, which are survivals of heathenism, and can only with great difficulty be made to take on a Christian meaning.) Let us then examine the supposed origins of heathen religion, and first of all, that known as Totemism. Totemism is a custom exceedingly common among savage tribes, in which some animal is chosen as the badge, or the name of the tribe, and a blood covenant formed, when the animal becomes the "totem" or god of the tribe. Popular instances may be given in the names of many of the Indian tribes of North America, or even in the crests and emblems of our now disrupted clans in Scotland, which can be traced back to a similar idea. In other cases the totem may be one of the well-known flora of the country or some other natural object. The custom is, of course, seen in the well-known worship of animals which has continued even among nations of advanced civilisation. Are there any traces of the influence of this idea at work in the religion of the Old Testament? There are one or two tribal names which are names of animals. Simeon is probably the name of a hybrid between a wolf and a hyæna. Leah means a wild cow, and Rachel is the Hebrew name for an ewe. The distinction between clean and unclean animals might be traced to this influence, but it does not altogether explain the lists in Lev. xi. and Deut. xiv. Another theory of the origin of religion is that known as Animism. This is the belief in the existence of spirits,--a belief prompted by the phenomena of dreams,--which usually takes the form of belief in the activity of the spirits of the recently deceased, an activity which is sometimes thought to be harmful and therefore feared. Animism, as a belief in a spiritual activity behind natural phenomena, especially those of the fearful type, survives in some form or other in the highest religions, and was particularly active in the Hebrew idea that Jehovah controlled natural forces for the deliverance of His people and for His own wonderful manifestations. Animism generally survives among uncivilised peoples in the practice of ancestor worship, of which there is no trace among the Hebrews. Nevertheless, the belief in Animism has left some customs behind it. Especially is this seen in the mourning customs which are designed to render the relatives unrecognisable to the departed spirit. This was effected by sprinkling ashes on the head, going naked or clothed in sackcloth. Cutting the flesh for this purpose is expressly forbidden (Lev. xix. 28). The ritual uncleanness of one who has come into contact with a dead body is also a relic of Animism, as is also the strange idea in Num. xix. 15, which is intended to guard against the spirit taking up its abode in a position from which it would be difficult to dislodge it. The funeral feast is held with the idea that the dead can still partake, but in this case friendly feelings rather than fear operate. The conclusion is that Animism has played its part in the shaping of Israel's religion, but that the cruder forms of it were dropped at a very early age. The religion of savage tribes is generally found to be polytheistic, and this is supposed to be one of the earliest stages in the development of religion. It takes the form of the deification of the forces of Nature or of striking natural objects, which are worshipped and generally feared, and is therefore a form of Animism. If the theories of the critics as to the composition of the early books of the Bible are correct, we should expect to find that, if any traces of Polytheism could be detected, they would be carefully obliterated from the original documents by the latest editor. There are indications discernible which show that this has been done, for although the worship of other gods is always severely condemned as the greatest of sins, yet at the same time we find no clear recognition of the idea of the One God until the time of the Prophets. The gods of the heathen are mentioned as if they were real beings who are to be feared. The evidence for this may be objected to in detail, but the accumulation of facts does press the reader to the unavoidable conclusion that until the Prophets, the faith of Israel was Monolatry rather than Monotheism, that is, the worship of one God rather than the definite belief that He is the Only God. The very name for God in the Hebrew language has a plural form (Elohim), but this is explained by a grammatical custom by which things of exalted idea are spoken of in the plural, called by grammarians, _the plural of eminence_. The evidence for Polytheism quoted above from Gen. xxxi. 19; xxxv. 1-4, might be referred to the introduction of alien idolatrous practices; but this can hardly be claimed in the case of the practice mentioned in Lev. xvii. 7, which must be a reference to the cult of satyrs, or goat-like demons which were commonly supposed to inhabit the desert, to the discouragement of which the ceremony mentioned in Lev. xvi. 8, 10, 21 ff, would seem to be directed. This strange figure called Azazel is not elsewhere described in the Old Testament, but we learn from the Book of Enoch that this was the name for the King of the Demons, a kind of _djinn_ who inhabited the wilderness and demanded toll of human life. (In agreement with what has been said before it will be noticed how this practice has been absorbed in the ritual of the Tabernacle, but with a different meaning.) Even the First Commandment does not explicitly deny the existence of other gods; it merely prohibits their worship by the Israelites. It may be that this command led to the full monotheistic belief which we find in men like Isaiah, but that full conception cannot be fairly read into the First Commandment. Chemosh, the god of the Amorites, is mentioned in Judges xi. 24, as a real being who had given the Amorites the possession of their land, even as Jehovah had given Canaan to the Israelites. In the popular imagination these heathen gods would remain as real beings probably long after the monotheistic belief had been held by the more enlightened, being thought of as demon powers, in much the same way as the early Christians regarded the gods of Greece and Rome. When we turn to the evidence from the customs of worship that owe their origin to heathen ideas, the supposition that the early religion of the Hebrews was hardly distinguishable from that of the Semitic races finds a full confirmation. The most determinative of these ideas is that of the localisation of the god, who appears only at certain specified places with which he is inseparably connected. The appearance is generally in some form more or less human, and the site of the manifestation is either marked for posterity by the erection of a suitable memorial, in the shape of a stone or an altar, or else some natural object is taken to be the actual residence of the god. The god is therefore connected rather with the land than with the people, and it is this antagonism of the popular idea with that of the Prophets, who stand for the relation between Jehovah and Israel as not territorial but covenanted, which is the key to the history of Israel. Apart from this prevalent idea, which is in itself a sufficient proof, we have the frequent reference to the sacredness of certain memorials and objects whose original significance cannot be hidden from the careful reader. We shall examine first these objects of reverential regard and then proceed to notice some of the more outstanding customs whose origin is heathen. (a) _Sacred Stones._ Throughout the Old Testament we meet with numerous references to stones or circles that form convenient landmarks or natural _rendezvous_ for national ceremonies. Adonijah strengthens his rebellion by a great sacrifice at the stone of Zoheleth--"the serpent's stone." The extremely important part which the serpent plays in all Semitic religion and mythology, together with the sacrificial act at this spot, points to its having been the ancient site of some idolatrous cult. Many of these sacred stones may have been the shrines of the Canaanites, and to some of these the invading religion attached its own meaning. The circle at Gilgal, which is said to commemorate the crossing of the Jordan, may be an example of this, for there is some contradiction in the account which refers it to a memorial erected by Joshua for this purpose (compare Josh. iv. 2-6, 20 ff, with iv. 9), and it is more than likely that the circle of graven images mentioned in Judges iii. 19 (R.V. margin) is to be identified with it. Among this class of sacred objects must be mentioned the obscure _Mazzebah_, translated in the margin of the Revised Version, "Obelisk." The use of the Mazzebah is strictly forbidden in Exod. xxxiv. 13, as one of the idolatrous customs of the former inhabitants of the land, but in the Eighth Century the Mazzebah is reckoned by Hosea as one of the essentials of Hebrew worship, as if he knew nothing of this proscription in the Law (Hosea iii. iv.). These pillars were evidently used to mark the place of worship, and they are said to have been found at Shechem, Bethel, Gilgal, Mizpeh, and elsewhere. From their usage in primitive Semitic religion as well as from their prohibition in Exodus it can be seen that they had idolatrous significance, and it is thought that they were rudely carved to resemble the likeness of the god. The two pillars placed before the temple, called Jachin and Boaz, are probably connected with the Mazzebah. (b) _Sacred Trees._ The continual reference to these in the Old Testament shows that they had some special and sacred significance. Such are the terebinths of Mamre (Gen. xiii. 18; should be singular according to the Septuagint), the tamarisk at Beersheba (Gen. xxi. 33), the palm of Deborah (Judges iv. 5), and the terebinth in Ophrah (Judges vi. 11). We can understand how to desert peoples trees naturally stood for objects of thankful reverence, and in the popular mind were regarded as the special seat and haunt of a deity. That they also served for the purpose of obtaining oracles may be seen from 2 Sam. v. 24; with which may be compared the practice of oracular decision by the rustling of the famous oaks of Delphi. With this species of tree-worship we must compare the use of the Asherah mentioned as a sacred symbol in Judges vi. 25; this is expressly forbidden in Exod. xxxiv. 13, Deut. xvi. 21. It used to be supposed that this was a wooden symbol of a goddess Asherah, but from the description in the passage quoted from Deuteronomy, and from Isa. xvii. 8, it would seem to be a tree-like post, and is more likely to be a remnant of tree worship, as our own Maypole may be. It came to pass that the tree or tree-like pole could therefore stand beside any altar as the sign of the presence of the god, and in the pre-Prophetic religion of Israel this was transferred to a sign of the presence of Jehovah until the Asherah was forbidden, in that great attempt to make return to idolatry impossible, the reform under Josiah. (c) _Sacred Springs._ A similar origin may be supposed for the recognised sacredness of springs. From the names given to some of these it is evident that they were regarded as the special seat of Divine power, natural enough, as in the case of the trees, to a desert-bred race and to dwellers in a land which never had too plentiful a supply of water. The proximity of the spring to an altar or sacred stone confirms this, as in the case of the stone Zoheleth near the spring En-rogel, the "spring of the fuller." The name of "En-Mishpat" (Gen. xiv. 7), "the spring of judgment," would seem to indicate that springs were used for the purpose of obtaining oracles, but by what signs this was effected is not known. The name of the spring in Gen. xvi. 14, where the angel appeared to Hagar, is significant in this connection: "the well of the living one who seeth me." In the customs of worship, and in all customs to which there is attached a definite religious significance, we find analogies in the heathen religions which show that they must have had a common origin. Chief among these must be classed the custom of sacrifice. It is natural, therefore, to find that sacrifice, which has such an undoubtedly natural explanation in heathen religions as either the food of the god or a means of propitiation, is nowhere in the Old Testament explicitly defined as to its intent and meaning. The root idea is, however, clearly seen in such customs as that of the setting forth of the Shewbread, however much the meaning may have become spiritualised by a purer idea of the nature of Jehovah, while in Ezek. xliv. 7, 15, this seems to be quite explicitly stated. As the conception of Deity was spiritualised, the idea of material food would doubtless grow too repugnant to be retained in the bare offering of flesh, and so we get the burnt-offering, the smoke of which Jehovah can smell. The blood especially, forms the correct offering, since being the seat of life, it belongs altogether to God. On the idea of the sacrifice being used as a propitiation to the Deity, it follows naturally that the more costly the victim the more acceptable it will be, and of all sacrifices the most efficacious will be that of a human being. The story of Abram and Isaac in Gen. xxii. is made to serve as a condemnation of human sacrifices, but the origin of the story may very well have pointed the other way, as indeed the first part of the story does; and that the practice was common may be seen from 2 Kings xvi. 3; xxi. 6; Jer. vii. 31; xix. 5 (Delete the last words of Jer. xix. 5, as an evident gloss from vii. 31). True, in these passages human sacrifice is said to be in express contravention of the will of Jehovah, but no such comment is added to the story of Jephthah (Judges xi. 30 ff.), while in Micah vi. 7, the sacrifice of the firstborn is simply classed among other sacrifices as part of the common idea. A remnant of this horrible practice is probably to be found in the consecration of the firstborn to Jehovah, while the legality of human sacrifice is determinative in the common practice of the "ban," by which all captives were devoted to Jehovah, and any violation visited by the direst vengeance; as in the case of Saul and Agag. Another use of the sacrifice was that of ratifying a covenant by cutting a victim in parts, between which the contracting parties passed (Gen. xv. 9-17; Jer. xxxiv. 18). Much the same result will be found from enquiry into the origin of special feasts and customs that are said to have been instigated at the express command of Jehovah; for there is evidence which shows that they were often customs common amongst the heathen, and were only invested with a new significance by the higher religion of the Hebrews. Among these it is likely that we must reckon even the Passover, for the daubing of the lintels is said to be a common heathen practice, and it will be noticed in support of the pre-Mosaic origin of the ceremony that at its first mention in Exod. xii. 21, it is called _the_ Passover. The meaning of the Hebrew word translated "Passover" is also capable of another meaning than that given in the story of its institution, a meaning which also points to its being the survival of a Semitic and heathen custom. Similar enquiry into ancient religions of the Semitic type shows that originally circumcision had no special religious significance, but was probably a sign of puberty and the right to marry. As manners softened it became a family rite and there was no need to postpone it till years of manhood. The practice of wearing special garments at religious rites is also found in heathen religions, and still maintains itself in our habit of wearing "Sunday clothes." The results of these enquiries are sufficiently startling to those who have been accustomed to regard the religion of Israel as starting from some definite act of revelation which ordained these ordinances and their religious meaning for the first time. But it is common enough in history to find that customs persist long after their original significance has been forgotten, and that they are gradually invested with a meaning more appropriate to the spirit of the age. We are not, however, shut up to the conclusion, that, because we can trace much of the wonderful religion of Israel to common causes acting upon heathen religion, there is no real work of revelation in this gradual progress from lower to higher stages. It would be quite useless, from the point of view of this book, to enter on the fruitless discussion as to whether in the evolution of religion we have to deal with a natural process or with a supernatural revelation. Is any such antithesis necessary? Surely the one can come through the other. If revelation is to reach us it must come through the ordinary processes of our minds; the recognition that it is from God cannot be authenticated to us by any miracle or outward authority, but simply by the possibility of the mind, which God has made, being able to recognise its Maker. It may be more of a difficulty to others that we should have such erroneous conceptions of history in a Book that has been regarded as infallible on these matters. We have to face the fact, from which there is no escape, that the historian may not have known the origin of the things of which he wrote, or may have intentionally obscured the fact of the heathen origin of customs that had become to all pious Israelites expressions of Jehovah's special revelation to Israel. If we are going to call this fraud, then it means that we are going to force on that early age a conception of historical accuracy which it certainly did not possess, and which, as a matter of fact, is only a late demand of the human mind. And after all, there was truth in this reference of all their religion to the revelation of Jehovah. It witnesses to the fact that behind even the crudest religion there is something which defies explanation, and that we have in heathen religions the slow dawning consciousness of God within man's soul. In Israel these things never stood still. That central idea of the localisation of Jehovah grew too small to contain the widening conception of Him as it was evolved through reflection and national experience, until the Prophets burst forth with the proclamation that He was the God of the whole earth, and His relation to Israel not tribal or territorial, but moral, and only to be maintained by righteousness and true holiness. MOSAISM The reader is recommended to make a careful study of the following passages, which are among the most important adduced by the critics as evidence for the non-Mosaic authorship of the Pentateuch. (1) Mosaic authorship is never claimed for the Pentateuch as a whole. Only in certain places is it noted that Moses wrote down special things (Exod. xvii. 14; xxiv. 4; xxxiv. 27; Num. xxxiii. 2; Deut. xxxi. 9, 22, 24). Moses is consistently spoken of in the third person, and it is hardly likely that this is a style purposely adopted, or the statement of Num. xii. 3 would be extraordinary in the circumstances. Obviously the last chapter of Deuteronomy was not written by him, nor is the common opinion that it was added by Joshua at all probable, for there is no difference in style from the rest of the book discernible, and, moreover, Dan is referred to (Deut. xxxiv. 1; cp. also Gen. xiv. 14), which was not so named until after the conquest. (Josh. xix. 47; Judges xviii. 29.) Would Moses need to authenticate his history of contemporaneous events by quoting from what are regarded as ancient books: from the Book of the Wars of Jehovah (Num. xxi. 14), wars which could have only just commenced, or from the poem which refers to the victory over Sihon (Num. xxi. 27 ff.), which took place at the very end of the forty years' wandering? (2) The standpoint as a whole is that of an age later than Moses. The remark in Gen. xxxvi. 31 can only have had any meaning in the age of David when Edom was in submission to Israel. A late date is also needed for the following passages: Gen. xii. 6; xiii. 7; xxxiv. 7 ("in Israel"! cp. Judges xx. 10; 2 Sam. xiii. 12); Lev. xviii. 27; Deut. ii. 12; iv. 38. In fact, the whole geographical outlook is that of an inhabitant of Western Palestine, as may be seen from the use of the term "Seaward" to indicate the west, and of "Negeb," or the desert land, for the south. These terms are used even in the description of the Tabernacle, which, if taken from the site of Mount Sinai, would be altogether wrong and meaningless. Compare Num. xxii. 1; xxxiv. 15; Deut. i. 1, 5; iii. 8; iv. 41, 46, 49: "beyond the Jordan," showing clearly that the writer's position is in Palestine, west of the Jordan. (3) There is no trace in the history of any observance of the Levitical ritual until after the exile; the day of atonement, the sin-offering, the high-priest, all are unheard of until this date. Nor can it be claimed that it was the ignorance of the common people, or their apostasy, that was responsible for this condition of things. The great leaders of the various reformations are apparently also quite ignorant that none but a priest could sacrifice, and none but a Levite take charge of the ark. Samuel, who was not a Levite, sleeps beside the ark and offers sacrifice. Elijah does nothing to recall the people to the ritual of Leviticus. (4) The conclusion is that, while later ages were right in attributing to Moses the founding of their religion and some of their ritual, all the accumulation of law, which had only been the growth of many centuries, has been placed to his credit. What the actual contribution of Moses was it is now impossible to say, but the original of the Ten Words and of the Book of the Covenant (Exod. xx. 2-xxiii. 33) may well go back to that age, as may be seen from the relative simplicity of the laws and rules. For example, compare the simple regulations for the altar in Exod. xx. 24 with the elaborate altar described in Exod. xxvii. 1-8. Lecture III MOSAISM The national consciousness of Israel goes back to a series of remarkable events in which the nation was born, and which are too deeply graven on the mind of the people to be mere legends without historical foundation. These events are the deliverance from the bondage in Egypt and the great covenant made with Jehovah at Sinai. The indispensable personal centre, round which these events revolve, is that of the great national leader, Moses. The fact that, outside the Pentateuch and the closely connected Book of Joshua, little is known of the work of Moses until after the exile, has given rise to doubts concerning his historical reality. If we take the writings of the Old Testament that are contemporary with the period they describe, there stand out in indisputable primacy the writings of the great literary Prophets. To these modern criticism has rightly turned to discover the opinions, customs, and religion, prevailing in the Eighth Century; and it is claimed that by these writings we can test the historical value of the Pentateuch, and of the other historical books. Now it must be admitted that in the pre-exilic Prophets the mention of Moses is less frequent than we should expect from the position which is claimed for him in the books of Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers and Deuteronomy. The Prophets do appeal with one consent to the original covenant of Jehovah with Israel, to the fulfilment of which they would recall the nation; but only rarely is the name of Moses associated with that covenant. There are only four references to Moses in the Prophets before the exile (Hosea xii. 13--Moses not actually named; Micah vi. 4; Jer. xv. 1; Isa. lxiii. 12--reckoned post-exilic by critics), and in none of these is Moses referred to as a law-giver, but as a prophet and national deliverer. We have to come to Prophets writing after the exile to find any reference to the legislative work of Moses (Mal. iv. 4; Dan. ix. 11-13). The purpose of the prophetic writings is moral rather than historical, and this forbids putting more evidential weight upon this argument from silence than it will bear; but in face of their continual appeal to the covenant of Sinai, this silence is at least significant. Evidently Moses was not a name to conjure with in their age. (Compare Jer. xxxi. 31, 32, where the mention of the name of Moses would have been most natural.) We have, on these and other grounds, to disregard the later idea that Moses was the only law-giver of Israel and the author of the Pentateuch, although the fact that the later legislation could only find sanction as it was included under his name, points to him as in some way the initiator of Israel's great Code of Laws. While in addition to this, it must be admitted that a great deal of the story of his life is due to the growth of legend, there is no need to regard the figure of Moses as entirely mythical. The events by which a motley crowd of serfs became a nation and covenanted themselves to an almost new religion not only need for their explanation a great interpreter, but also a great leader; and this demand and need Moses fills. We may therefore safely regard Moses as one of the great Founders of Religion. We have now to enquire how much of the marvellous story of his life can be safely reckoned as history. The document which gives the earliest, and therefore the most trustworthy, story of his life is dated by the critics in the Ninth Century, although it is not denied that it may, and probably does, go back for its material to a much earlier period. This document, known to the critics as "J," owes its origin to early prophetic influence. In this document, as might be expected from the analogy in similar cases (compare the absence of the birth stories in Mark), the story of the birth and finding of Moses is omitted; it is probably nothing more than an effort to find a popular explanation of his name, as derived from _Mashah_, "to draw out." A much more likely origin of the name is found by modern scholars in the Egyptian word for "son" (_Mesu_). The important thing to be noticed is that in this early document he appears first of all in Midian, although there are indications which show that it is known that he had previously been in Egypt. Here, alone in the wilderness, or in intercourse with the strange Bedawin who still inhabit that region, there came to him a revelation of Jehovah and the call to deliver Israel from their bondage. He returned to Egypt with a message at once religious and national. He calls upon the Israelites to leave Egypt and to seek a covenant with Jehovah at His shrine at Sinai. During a plague, the passage of the Red Sea was effected under conditions that were interpreted to be due to the direct intervention of Jehovah; and, the returning tide cutting off the pursuing Egyptians who challenged their flight, the Israelites stood delivered from their enemies and their first trust in Jehovah was vindicated. It is not for us to enquire into the exact causes which proved so favourable to the Israelites and so disastrous to the Egyptians; we only need to know that they were interpreted religiously. Then around Mount Sinai, with its impressive solitude and its awful storms, Moses gathered the people, imparted the secret of the new worship, made a solemn covenant by which the people of Israel became for ever the people of Jehovah, and probably laid down some rudiments of legislation fitted for their primitive and nomadic condition. This much at least the after history demands as the irreducible minimum. If this is at all an accurate view of the founding of the religion of Jehovah, then we are faced with the phenomenon of a nation practically adopting a new religion. We do not ignore "revelation" when we feel compelled to seek for natural causes which might prepare the way for this event; and this we may attempt by an enquiry into the meaning of the name "Jehovah." It should be noted at the outset that "Jehovah" is a personal name, like that of Zeus or Poseidon, conveying the idea of some aspect of deity. The meaning of the name is exceedingly obscure. The general name for deity common to all Semites, and therefore belonging to the undivided primitive stock, is "El," meaning either "the Mighty One" or, and more in accord with Semitic conceptions of God, "the Leader." The meaning of the name "Jehovah" is difficult to discover, because in the first place the exact pronunciation of the word has been lost, probably beyond recovery. The word "Jehovah" is a hybrid compound, and as a matter of fact was never used as a name for God until the Reformation. We can be certain only that the consonants of the word were _JHVH_ (or _YHWH_, Hebrew pronunciation). This extraordinary state of things is accounted for by the fact that for centuries the Hebrew Scriptures were "unpointed" or unvocalised--that is, the consonants only were written and the necessary connecting vowels were taught orally, and only retained in the memory for use when the Scriptures were read aloud. When in the Ninth Century A.D. it was likely that the pronunciation of the sacred language would be entirely forgotten, a device for its preservation was made whereby the vowel pronunciation was indicated by means of "points" placed chiefly underneath the consonantal text; very much like the dots and dashes used for vowels in Pitman's system of shorthand. When, however, it came to the "pointing" of JHVH, it was found that the pronunciation of this word had been entirely lost. Reverence for the name of God had become so exaggerated that, in reading aloud from the Scriptures, wherever the sacred name occurred another word had always been substituted. This word was one of respect, but of less marked exaltation--_Adonai_, equal to our word "Lord." The only course open to the punctuators was that of inserting under the consonants JHVH, the vowels (with suitable euphonic modifications) of the word _Adonai_, with the result that we get the conflate "Jehovah," a word which has become invested with so much solemnity to our ears, but which was certainly not the right pronunciation, and which has never been used by the Jews. Scholars have endeavoured, at present without any universally accepted result, to recover the lost pronunciation by linguistic enquiries, with the desire to discover what the word originally meant, in the hope that it would throw some light on the origin of the religion founded by Moses. In Exod. iii. 13 ff. (R. V. margin) we have the traditional explanation of the word, an explanation which is not altogether satisfactory from a grammatical point of view; the great Hebraist Ewald goes so far as to pronounce it highly artificial. It has been objected that the man who wrote this account, about 750 B.C., surely understood his own language. Probably; but that is not to say that he understood the etymology of it, for etymology is a new science, and has upset many popular derivations in the case of our own language. If the explanation given in Exodus is correct, and we cannot with certainty put anything much better in its place, then the meaning of the word "Jehovah" would be "He that is," perhaps an equivalent in Hebrew form to the Western idea of "The Eternal." Only one of the numerous guesses as to the meaning of the original name need be quoted here: that the word comes from a verb, _hawah_, meaning either "to fall," or "to blow." Similar ideas would seem to account for either of these meanings. "He who blows," looks like the name for the Tempest God, while "that which falls" has been taken to indicate a fallen meteorite, which may have been preserved as a symbol of Jehovah. When we remember the thunderstorms at Sinai, and the common belief that thunder was a special theophany of Jehovah, these ideas are not to be hastily dismissed as altogether incredible. Nor should we be prevented from considering such an idea from the prejudice that it would make the origin of the religion of Israel a piece of Nature-worship and superstition. God has taken man where He has found him, and none can dare to define the limits of childish and crude conceptions within which the Spirit of God can begin His work in man's mind. The conclusion derived from the examination of the meaning of the name "Jehovah" must therefore remain open until some further light is thrown on the subject. (Scholars usually adopt the pronunciation, _Yahwe_, as our nearest approach to the original.) An endeavour has been made to discover the origin of the religion of Israel from the persistent connection of Jehovah with the locality of Mount Sinai. This idea continues long after in the Promised Land (Deut. xxxiii. 2; Judges v. 5), and Elijah takes a long journey back to the sacred spot, presumably to get into closer touch with Jehovah (1 Kings xix.). With the prevailing beliefs of that age in the localisation of the god, this connection must be thought of as of more than accidental significance. It is fair to assume that the seat of Jehovah at Sinai must have been known before the great covenant, and is indeed required by the narrative itself (Exod. iii.; iv. 27), while recent discoveries are said to prove that the traditional Sinai must have been a sacred place from the earliest times. Moses, however, is clearly represented as coming to know of Jehovah during his stay in Midian. The exact means of the revelation is said to have been the sight of a bush on fire, yet miraculously unconsumed. What actually lies behind this story--whether it is a creation of the religious imagination which sees "every common bush afire with God"--it is useless for us to try and discover. A natural explanation has been sought in the fact that Jethro, the Kenite, was the priest of Midian, and presumably of some shrine of Jehovah. Certainly Jethro knew the name of Jehovah, but apparently only regarded Him as one of the gods, until the marvellous deliverance of the Exodus proved Him to be the greatest of gods (Exod. xviii. 9-11). Jethro performs an act of sacrifice to Jehovah, in the presence of Aaron and the elders, that looks remarkably like an act of initiation by which Israel are introduced to the worship of Jehovah by the regular priest of the shrine (Exod. xviii. 12). The hypothesis is further strengthened by the fact that the Kenites are found later dwelling in Palestine (Judges i. 16), and are always remembered long after as the friends of the Israelites (1 Sam. xv. 6; xxvii. 10; xxx. 29). The inference from this is that Moses first learned of Jehovah from his father-in-law Jethro, but that he understood more of the character of Jehovah than Jethro, and by his superior religious consciousness conceived of Him as in some way Supreme who to Jethro had been only one of the desert gods. This theory would certainly be strengthened if Sinai could be identified, not with the traditional site of _Jebel Musa_ in the southern part of the Sinaitic peninsula, but with some spot in the land of Midian, across the gulf of Akaba. This does indeed seem necessary from the narrative, for from the most natural interpretation of Exod. iii. 1, Horeb, the mount of God, was in Midian. It is generally taken for granted that Horeb and Sinai are identical; the respective names are used by different documents. It is said that, for some reasons, Midian would fit in with the record of the journey through the wilderness better than the Sinaitic peninsula. If the parallelism of Sinai with Seir in Deut. xxxiii. 2 can be taken to show identity, as is natural, we have a further confirmation, for Seir is in Midian. The grave difficulty of all this is that it would make the religion of Jehovah a distinct importation. Is such a thing as its reception by the Hebrews credible on this account? The idea of a nation changing its religion is certainly repugnant to the Semitic mind (Jer. ii. 10, 11), and some more natural connection seems necessary, both from the narrative and from general considerations. Now the narrative hints that the religion was not entirely new (Exod. vi. 3), but was known to the Patriarchs under different forms; while the sanctity of Sinai would seem to have been already known to some of the tribes (Exod. iv. 27). There is nothing here definite enough for us to proceed to historical certainty, but it is fair to suppose that the shrine at Sinai was known to the Patriarchs in their wanderings, and that Jehovah would be worshipped; as would any other local god whose territory they happened to be in. Grant that this was partly known to the Hebrew slaves in Egypt; that Moses received the revelation of the power of Jehovah in his exile in Midian, and by a splendid leap of inspiration identified the actual shrine and the Person of Jehovah with the Mighty Spirit dimly known to the Patriarchs, and we have an explanation that is natural and is also true; for the Object of man's worship has been One through all history. When the successful passage of the Red Sea and the defeat of the Egyptians were interpreted by Moses as the direct intervention of Jehovah, the transition to the great covenant is made possible. All this may be very contrary to the traditional idea of how Moses received the revelation of Jehovah, but the facts do point this way; and it is not for us to deny that the Spirit of God could work through these natural events and through the mind of this commanding personality, and so bring about this identification of Jehovah and the Great Spirit of the Patriarchal thought, which was to lead to such great results for religion. We are now free to investigate what the character of the religion introduced by Moses actually was. (1) _General Character._ A careful examination of its character shows that while it is by no means identical with the religion taught by the Prophets, and while it retained many heathen ideas and customs, yet it contained within itself the promise and guarantee of development. We have already had occasion to notice that it is not pure Monotheism. Jehovah is not the only God; He is the only God for Israel. The heathen deities are still regarded as having a real existence. Neither can it be called a purely spiritual religion, for Jehovah is rather said to have a spirit than to be a spirit; He has a form which, though terrible in its effect on the beholder, by reason of its glory, can nevertheless be seen; He inhabits a special place, which is His sacred territory, and on this Moses stumbles all unwittingly in Midian. Still more emphatically against the idea of a purely spiritual religion is the fact--which the editors have done their best to hide, but not successfully--that images of some kind were allowed, or existed unreproved. The Ephod, of which we hear so often, was evidently at one time an idol. The meaning of the word is of something "covered," as may be seen from Isa. xxx. 22, where the feminine form of the word (_aphuddah_) is used of the gold plating of images; but according to a later idea (Exod. xxviii. 6-14), the Ephod formed part of the dress of the High Priest, and was a kind of embroidered waistcoat. This explanation, however, does violence to a number of passages where the Ephod is mentioned. Gideon expended seventeen hundred shekels of gold on an Ephod which he "set up" in Ophrah (Jud. viii. 26 f.); this cannot be a waistcoat. Only the explanation that the Ephod was an image can do justice to the reference in Judges xvii. 5, and it suits the passage in 1 Sam. xxi. 9, if we think of the sword hanging behind an image. If the ephod was nothing more than a waistcoat by which lots were determined, we have to explain why it is so sharply condemned in Judges viii. 27, and why the text of 1 Sam. xiv. 18, which in the Septuagint reads "ephod," in the Hebrew text has been altered to read "ark"; an alteration which is quite impossible here, as the ark was at this time in Kirjath Jearim, and, moreover, was never used for the purpose of obtaining oracles. (The only explanation is that some scribe has made this alteration because he knew that there was something idolatrous about the ephod.) Even as late as Hosea (iii. 4) we find the ephod mentioned in a connection where it can only stand for an object of idolatrous worship. It is certainly strange that the same name should be in use for an image, and then later for a garment of the high-priest; but the likely explanation of this is that the image was at one time clothed with a dress, as was usual (Jer. x. 9), and that in the pockets of this the lots were kept. When the use of the image became offensive the garment was retained as part of the high-priest's dress. The transition is made more natural if we can suppose that the Priest of the Oracle, in the early days, was accustomed to put on the garment of the image, under the customary idea that thus the divine knowledge of the idol would be communicated to him. In 2 Kings xviii. 4, we read of _Nehushtan_, the brazen serpent which Moses had made, being used idolatrously; but perhaps this has been wrongly ascribed to Moses. From the intimate connection of bull-worship with the worship of Jehovah, it would seem that the bull was regarded as a symbol of Jehovah; a similar idea may have instituted Aaron's golden calf. While admitting the force of this evidence, we must still keep open the possibility that the religion instituted by Moses was of a purer type, but was never strong enough to drive out the remnants of heathen practice. More indisputable evidence of the materialistic conception of the Person of Jehovah is found in the reverence paid to what is known as "the ark of Jehovah," the making of which is certainly ascribed to Moses. The name "the ark of the covenant," was not the original name given to the ark, but is taken from the incident recorded in Deut. x. 1-5. The idea that the ark was built to contain the tables of the Law does not appear until the time of Deuteronomy, and is quite unknown to the older strata of the Pentateuch. In these older strata all mention of the actual making of the ark is omitted, although there is evidence that they did contain an account of its preparation and meaning. Enough, however, is told us of the reverential treatment of it, to show that it was a symbol of higher sanctity than a mere receptacle for the stones of the law would be likely to be. It is certainly very closely identified with Jehovah Himself, as may be seen from Num. x. 35. (This is in poetic form, and is therefore likely to be a very early fragment. It should be noticed that the ark apparently starts of itself.) Its presence in the battlefield ensures victory, while its absence brings about defeat (Num. xiv. 42-45; 1 Sam. iv. 3-7; v. 1 ff.). It can hardly be that the ark was taken for Jehovah Himself, but it must have contained something that was closely identified with Jehovah; a box is not built except with the idea of holding something. We have seen that it is unlikely that that something was originally the two tables of the law; was it something else of stone which made the transference to the tables of the law at once necessary and natural? Was it a stone image of Jehovah? It has been conjectured that it may have contained meteoritic stones, which would agree with the proposed derivation of "Jehovah" from the Storm God of Sinai. There is nothing in the Old Testament which gives any support to these conjectures, but in face of the fact that the original narrative of the making of the ark has been omitted, and in view of the ideas of religion which were common in that period, we cannot say that they are absolutely excluded from consideration. The ark was certainly bound up with the idea of war, and would seem to have been kept in a soldier's tent. It was transferred to the dark inner temple till 586 B.C., and from that date all trace of it is lost. The Priest's Code ("P") makes provision for it in the second temple, but we have unimpeachable Jewish testimony that the shrine of the inner temple was absolutely empty (Josephus, _War of the Jews_, v. v. § 5). Jeremiah may have been aware of the original significance of the ark as tending towards idolatry, and hence his words in Jer. iii. 16. (2) _Ordinances of Worship._ It remains for us to enquire into the character of the religion founded by Moses by an examination of some of the outstanding ordinances that regulated the idea of worship. Here the traditional ascription of the fully developed ritual of the Book of Leviticus to Moses has to be set aside, on the consideration that we have no record of its observance until late in the period of the monarchy, and from then it can be traced as a gradual growth of custom and ideal until its complete observance after the Exile. There does not seem to have been any priesthood of the exclusive Levitical order founded by Moses. The story of the Levites in Exod. xxxii. can only be a late story, for there is no record of their monopoly of the ritual service until the Reform under Josiah: Joshua, an Ephraimite, is the "servant of the tent"; Samuel, also an Ephraimite, sleeps beside the ark (1 Sam. iii. 3); David and Solomon assume a kind of chief priesthood (2 Sam. vi. 13; 1 Kings viii. 5, 62 ff.), and of course neither of them were Levites. The story in Judges xvii. gives what is perhaps the true position of the Levites: anyone could be consecrated as a family priest, but the presence of a Levite was reckoned propitious. Down to a very late age sacrifice seems to have remained largely a tribal or family act, and although a descendant of Moses' tribe (Levi) was regarded as possessing special advantage, there was no law by which Levites alone were reckoned capable of discharging priestly functions. In the matter of sacrifice, it would seem that Moses simply adopted what was a very ancient and common practice. In face of the evident neglect of the Levitical ritual in matters of sacrifice, both by the common people and by such great reformers as Samuel and Elijah, together with the fact that in the teaching of the prophets doubts are cast on its divine origin (Isa. i. 11; Amos v. 25; Micah vi. 6-8), we cannot infer that the detailed and explicit commands concerning sacrifice found in the Book of Leviticus are the work of Moses, or belong to an early age. To the Prophets, sacrifice is always reminiscent of paganism. The time when the change came in may be detected in the different value given to sacrifice by the post-exilic prophets (Mal. i. 13 f.), while the incompatibility of the two views, prophetic and priestly, can be seen from the addition which has been made to Ps. li., to bring it into accord with the later view. Neither is it possible for us to believe that the elaborate shrine known as the Tabernacle owed its existence to Moses. The impossibility of transporting the cumbrous fixtures through the wilderness had been noticed before the modern era of critical study. A close examination of the details of construction shows that it is nothing more than an ideal projection from the mind of a priestly writer who believed that a tent-like counterpart of Ezekiel's temple was essential to Israel's worship in the wilderness. It is enough to recall that the tabernacle of the priestly writer's imagination is quite unknown to the historical books. In Exod. xxxiii. 7 ff., which may be seen to be only a fragment of an early document, since it starts abruptly by describing "the" tent, which is known as the Tent of Meeting, we have what has been taken to be the Tabernacle; but it is nothing more than a tent for keeping the ark in. (3) _Legislation._ How much of the legislation of the Pentateuch is to be ascribed to Moses we cannot tell. Too many hands have been at work on it for the original to be discovered. A remarkable discovery was made in the year 1901 of some enormous _steles_, which bear in cuneiform characters what is now known as the Code of Hammurabi, the oldest code of laws in the world, the date of which is reckoned to be 2250 B.C. They presuppose an advanced state of civilisation and morality existing in the Euphrates valley at that period. The agreement between the Pentateuchal Code and the Code of Hammurabi argues dependence of the former on the latter to a very considerable extent, and supplies a still further testimony to the extent to which the religion of Israel is indebted to Babylon. The exact bearing of this discovery upon critical theories, and especially upon the date of the Pentateuch has perhaps hardly been estimated yet; it does not, however, refute the theory which denies that the Pentateuch as it stands is from the hand of Moses. We naturally think of the Decalogue as the work of Moses, but here we are faced by the difficulty that the Decalogue appears to exist in three recensions (Exod. xx. 1-17; xxxiv. 14-28; Deut. v. 6-21). The account in Exod. xxxiv., which forms part of the document "J," is reckoned to be the oldest of these, and the original of this might well go back to the time of Moses. It has been objected that the Decalogue is too ethical to suit the time of Moses, but is this not because we are inclined to read into the Ten Commandments far more than is to be found there? It can be shown that they are little more than ten laws of "rights." A special difficulty is found in ascribing the second commandment to this age, in view of its frequent uncensured breach; but perhaps there is some difference that escapes us between a molten image, which is prescribed in the first draft (Exod. xxxiv. 17), and the later prohibition of the graven image (Exod. xx. 4). In the foregoing examination we have allowed for the most rigorous demands of advanced criticism, demands which may have to be modified as criticism becomes more of a science, but there remains the need to discover what there was, on these critical assumptions, in the Mosaic religion that provided the way for a further advance into the faith which became the glory of Israel. What is it that makes the difference between Mosaism and the heathen Semitic religions, a difference which was to make the gradual growth of a pure Monotheism possible? The first important element which needs to be reckoned with is that it was a religion of choice rather than a religion of nature. We saw that it was difficult to conceive how the religion of Jehovah could have been adopted by Israel unless there had been some previous contact. What is so difficult to understand is nevertheless the one element that contained the possibility of progress. The relation of Israel to Jehovah was neither by physical descent nor through the connection of the god with the land, as with the heathen Semitic religions. Jehovah was at first conceived of as the God of the tribe only, but even this was not by nature, but by His gracious choice. Their land was given to them by Jehovah, but His natural connection was with a far distant shrine. This fact in itself must have rendered necessary some more spiritual conception of His habitation, and, though hard enough for the common people to realise, when they entered Canaan and found a full-grown cultus and religion in connection with the god of the land already in possession, it was this fact upon which the Prophets fastened and which could not be denied: the religion of Jehovah was a matter of choice and not of racial or local connection. That choice had been ratified by solemn covenant, to which the Prophets appealed. The relation between Jehovah and Israel depended therefore on the conditions of the covenant being faithfully kept. When we compare the religions of the other Semites, which made the relation of the god and his people one which nothing could break, and from which neither the god nor the people could escape, we can see how this difference constituted one of the ethical germs of the religion which was destined to grow into fuller power and life. There was another important conception, which was intensified by the fact that the religion of Jehovah was a religion of choice: that of the jealousy of Jehovah. This was often interpreted, especially in the pre-prophetic period, in a very crude and in even a cruel way. The jealousy of Jehovah was very like the human passion: uncertain, arbitrary and irrational, manifesting itself according to the popular mind in outbreaks of fury for ceremonial mistakes, or for causes even less comprehensible (Num. iii. 4; 2 Sam. vi. 7). In all the religions it was thought to be a serious thing to depart from the allegiance to the rightful god, and sure to lay one open to his jealousy and vengeance; but something more is now found in this idea as it develops in Hebrew thought: it is that the jealousy of Jehovah is due to the great difference between Him and the other gods, a difference which came to be recognised as one of character. Something of this must go back to Moses himself. This difference is also expressed in the idea that He is a God of righteousness. The word "righteousness" does not always have in the Hebrew Scriptures the absolute meaning which it has for us. It was rather equal to our word "rights," which we often employ quite unethically. Jehovah was one who gave right judgments when questions were submitted and answered by the lot, and One who brought victory to the right. It was undoubtedly Israel's right that was chiefly considered, but there was hidden in it an ethical germ which was to bring forth notable fruit when man's sense of right was widened. This at least was the mark of the new religion which Moses impressed on the people, impressed with such a force that it could never be quite forgotten. It had new thoughts pregnant with meaning for the mind of man and for the future of religion, and these became the fulcrum of the Prophets' appeal. From the bosom of this people was to come forth One who was to reveal the Father as perfectly righteous and impartial, and who demands for His service a righteousness that must far exceed that of the straitest observers of external religion. It would be easy for us to despise this day of small beginnings, or to refuse to see in it any real revelation of God at all. Doubtless this enquiry may necessitate a change in our conceptions of the work of Moses, but it is one that we are forced to by a multitude of facts, and we must find a theory of inspiration wide enough to fit them. Crude as we may make the beginnings of Israel's faith, natural as we may feel are the laws by which it worked towards its growth, we have not been able to get any nearer to some of those ultimate questions which ask how religion begins, what the nature of revelation is, and how it comes to man's mind. We need not think that God had to break in on the mind of Moses, so that the personality of the man was in abeyance while God worked through him. When God wishes to bring men to a higher truth He does not supernaturally communicate it; He makes human nature to produce personalities whose minds come naturally to the truth. There can be no separation of natural and supernatural here; wherever that separation is to be made, we certainly cannot make it. There can be no meaning in revelation, and no possibility of it, unless God has made man's mind to be growingly in touch with Him and to be capable of receiving His revelation by the natural working of thought, so that it seems to spring up within his own consciousness. Deeper into this question we are not called upon to go at present, but no one can object that it is less reverent, or that it shows signs of a decay of faith, if men can see God to-day not only in the extraordinary and the supernatural, but also in the ordinary and the natural. If the recognition of God depends on spiritual vision, then those who refuse to narrow the limits within which God can be seen, and who therefore welcome all truth with gladness and without fear, are not to be called godless and unspiritual. We should learn to be thankful for Moses, for he was faithful as far as he knew; if we were as faithful in proportion to the fuller light which has come to us, religion would be a very real and inclusive thing. We should also learn to take heart, if from these beginnings such mighty movements have sprung. The mistakes inevitable to the human mind do not destroy the possibility of revelation, the error cannot everlastingly obscure the truth, nor in the long run will evil triumph over good. It was possible in that far off age, it was possible in all ages, it is possible now, for a mind still far from the true conception of the ultimate nature of God to yet grasp something, and by a supreme faith in the leading of a Mighty Power to lift a whole nation, and through it the world, one stage further on in goodness and truth. THE INFLUENCE OF CANAAN As an introduction to Lecture IV. the reader is advised to make a careful study of Judges i. 1-ii. 5, a mutilated fragment of a very early and reliable account of the invasion of Canaan. The opening words (verse 1) refer the events which follow to the period after the death of Joshua; but the Book of Joshua has already recorded the complete conquest of Canaan, so that there can be no place for this further invasion on a far less ambitious plan, and apparently with less successful results. It will be noticed, however, that this account easily falls away from the main body of the narrative; Judges ii. 6 follows naturally after Joshua xxiv. 28, and ignores what comes between. We have, therefore, in this account another history of the conquest of Canaan, which contradicts altogether the impression--which we get from reading the Book of Joshua--that the conquest of Canaan was effected by the tribes acting in unison, that it was complete, and that the conquered were exterminated; it records a movement of tribes acting independently, there is no "conquest" in the ordinary sense of the term, but a footing is obtained alongside the original inhabitants of the land. This account of a gradual immigration of tribes is confirmed by the discovery of inscriptions, which seem to show that there were some tribes of the Hebrews in Palestine before the traditional date of the Conquest, and even before the Exodus. Until quite lately the history of Egypt has thrown no light on these events. It has not even been possible to identify with any certainty the Pharaoh under whom the Exodus took place. One identification is now fairly certain. The Pharaoh who enslaved the Israelites was Rameses III., for discoveries have proved that it was he who built Pithom (Exod. i. 11); the Exodus has therefore been referred to the reigns of Merneptah or Seti II., his immediate successors. The objection to this is that in these reigns both the peninsula of Sinai and the land of Palestine were under full Egyptian control, and therefore the Exodus must be put later on, when this control slackened. This would bring the Exodus to the date of 1200-1180 B.C. and the Conquest some fifty years later. The latest discoveries tend to throw this result into confusion. Names, which it is proposed to identify with tribes of the Israelites, have been found in inscriptions belonging to earlier reigns. On an inscription of Rameses II. the name of Asher is found as dwelling in North Palestine. In a list of Thotmes III. (still earlier, Sixteenth Century, B.C.) we find the names Jacob and Joseph in the significant combination, Jacob-el and Joseph-el, used to describe the Dan-Ephraim district of Palestine. This makes it more likely that the Tel-el-Amarna tablets (dated Fourteenth Century, B.C.) refer to the Hebrews. In these letters, addressed to Amenophis IV., the King of Jerusalem appeals for help against an invasion of the _Habiri_, who are led by Abd Ashera. The invasion is not by a large force, as may be seen from the fact that it is thought thirty or forty Egyptian soldiers will be sufficient for the purpose of resisting their attacks. More certain than any of these references is the occurrence of the name of Israel on a Stele of Merneptah, in connection with a recital of his triumphs in Syria. The form in which this reference is made leaves no doubt that, by this period, Israel was already settled in Palestine. ("Israel is laid waste, its corn is annihilated.") There is no confirmation of a Syrian campaign under Merneptah, and it may be that in accordance with the fashion of the age, he is including among his victories the exploits of his predecessors; this would agree with the earlier date for the occupation of Canaan by Israel which the previous references seem to require. The exact bearing of these discoveries has yet to be determined, but they either require us to put the date of the Exodus earlier, which would in itself be difficult, or, what would bring light on many problems, assume that not all the tribes were in bondage in Egypt, and that the invasion of Canaan by various tribes, only long after welded into a nation, was spread over a long period. Lecture IV THE INFLUENCE OF CANAAN If the nation of Israel may be said to have been born in captivity, baptised in the Red Sea, and awakened to national consciousness at Mount Sinai, then the settlement in Canaan corresponds to the no less critical period of adolescence, when, training and tutelage being over, youth must choose its own path and fight its way in the world. Certain it is that the entrance into Canaan largely determined the future of this people, for it must have profoundly modified the national character, turning as it did nomadic tribes into a settled and civilised people; but above all, and what more concerns us, it proved extremely critical for the fate of that as yet untried revelation of Jehovah, which had still to win its way against the heathenism of the common people, and was now by this new experience called upon to measure its strength against the attraction of a competing faith. The peculiar and pathetic love of the Jews for Canaan is largely due to the remembrance that it was not their own land but the long promised gift of Jehovah, standing therefore to all time as the material proof of His love for Israel; while their estimate of it was intensely deepened by the wilderness experience which preceded. That estimate seems to us somewhat exaggerated, for to-day Palestine has almost given up the struggle against the always threatening advance of the desert. It has certainly changed for the worse under neglect and misrule, but it can never have been a too indulgent land; only comparison with the bare and awful desert can have called forth the description, "a land flowing with milk and honey." With the long memory of restless nomadic life and the bitter thought of bondage, any land would seem welcome that offered them freedom and safety; while to those approaching it from the desert it seemed as fair and fruitful a land as men could desire. All lands have contributed largely to the character of the nations they have reared, and the wilderness ancestry and the character of Canaan have played their part in the development of Israel. The very geographical position of Canaan helps us to understand the Hebrews, and even to see how it was that in this land it was possible to nurture from such unpromising beginnings the wonderful development of religion that was to make this smallest of all lands one of the most sacred spots on earth, and this strange and limited people among the greatest contributors to the moral and religious ideas of humanity. Crushed in between the sea and the desert, hemmed in by great military powers, the little buffer state itself the very crossways of East and West, its roads never long at rest from the tramp of armies; here was a land in which all dreams of fame and empire were hammered out, and nothing left possible save an empire of spiritual power and the fame of a unique religion. A people strangely proud and passionately exclusive, they could never rest under the dominion of their great neighbours, however light the burden imposed; and since sustained resistance was out of the question by reason of their inferior numbers and lack of military power, they resorted to irritating acts of rebellion, or intrigued with the enemies of their overlords, and so brought down on their land frequent vengeance. Such was their untameable nature that the only practical policy open to Babylon, if she wished to insure the loyalty, or at least, the neutrality of Palestine, was to deport the Jews bodily to where they could be under observation. So we find the greatest heroes of Jewish history--from Moses, through Gideon and Samson, to David and Judas Maccabæus--are those who deliver the nation from oppression; while Israel's prayers are largely cries for succour against enemies, or for Divine vengeance on the oppressor; only too eloquent a witness of the sense of their own impotence. Yet it was precisely this experience that forced their religion to rise above the common type, to conquer its natural tendencies, and to become the most magnificent faith in God that the world has seen. Of this they themselves were not ignorant; for one of their writers points to the easy lot of Moab as the cause of their irreligion (Jer. xlviii. 11), and one of the Psalmists says that it is the men who have no changes who fear not God (lv. 19). We need not consider the utterly feeble objection that all this makes the religion of Israel the outcome of natural necessity, rather than of Divine revelation; for God made the land that made Israel. The entry into Canaan was therefore one of the most critical periods in the history of this people and in the development of the religion of the Old Testament. It is, however, extremely difficult to discover from the means at our disposal just how or when that entry was effected. The sources for this period are found in the Books of Joshua and Judges, but, from comparison with much in the history that follows, it is clear that they do not present us with absolute history; yet a critical examination of these books enables us to recover the essential facts. A study of the preface to this lecture will show that the story of the Conquest is obscure in its details and difficult to reconcile with modern discoveries. A careful examination of our sources shows that the description of the entry of the Hebrews into Canaan as a "conquest," which was settled by a few decisive battles, is at least rather fanciful; and as a matter of fact we have quite another picture in the first chapter of Judges, which partakes more of the character of an "alien immigration," a method of "conquest" in which the Jews have always been remarkably successful. The history in Joshua certainly represents the Conquest as striking, complete, and followed by a ruthless extermination of the defenders of their native land. In view of the relations that were for long maintained between the Canaanites and the Hebrews, the representation in Judges i. must be regarded as nearer to the facts than the story of the Conquest according to the Book of Joshua. The children of Israel dwelt side by side with the Canaanites, simply because they were not able to drive them out; and as a result the tribes were frequently divided by strong belts of Canaanitish territory. Right through the time of the Judges we get warfare between the Israelites and the inhabitants of the land; sometimes in pitched battles between the Canaanites and the united tribes of Israel (Judges iv. v.), but more generally in guerilla warfare or in the sudden surprise of a Canaanitish garrison (Judges xviii.). The result of the conflict seems to have been the gradual absorption of the two elements into one nation. The records definitely admit that it was not until the time of David that the Jebusites were driven from Jerusalem (2 Sam. v. 6, 7), and not until Solomon that the superiority of the Israelites was finally established (1 Kings ix. 20, 21). It surely is an immense relief to think that the huge slaughters recorded in the Book of Joshua are, to say the least, exaggerations. The history in Judges also clearly shows that there was little cohesion between the tribes. They filtered across the Jordan only by degrees, and there is evidence that this process may have extended over a considerable time. We have records of quarrels between Gideon and Ephraim (Judges viii. 1), and between Jephthah and Ephraim (Judges xii. 1). These inter-tribal conflicts might have been serious, were it not for the circumstance that the Israelites were no sooner settled in the land than other tribes of desert invaders began to press upon them, and they had to sink family differences in order to combine against the common enemy. The song of Deborah (Judges v.) is one of the most valuable documents we possess for the light which it throws on the conditions of religious and national life in this period, for it is probably the only document in the Old Testament, earlier than the founding of the monarchy, that is contemporary with the events it describes. It shows that the tribes had somewhat improved their position, for they now seem to be in possession of the highlands of Ephraim, although the plains are still in the hands of the Canaanites. The growing power of the Israelites and their threatening predominance moved the Canaanites to a united effort to repress Israel. It is to face this danger that the Prophetess Deborah calls the tribes; but from the way in which the praise and blame is meted out we can see that a strong sense of national unity was still lacking. The important point to be noticed is that the bond of unity to which Deborah could appeal was the name of Jehovah. It should be noted also that in the enumeration of the tribes, Judah, Simeon, and Levi are altogether omitted. In the case of so important a tribe as Judah this is significant, for it agrees with the fact that until the time of David this tribe does not come into prominence. It has been conjectured that Judah was only a small tribe, and may have invaded Canaan from the south, for it is difficult to conceive how it could have crossed the strong Canaanitish territory which separated it from the other tribes. At any rate, at this time it was not regarded as one of the tribes of Israel; it may have been that this tribe embraced a strong Canaanitish element (Gen. xxxviii.), and this fact may have contributed to the resentment which broke out among the other tribes when Judah assumed the hegemony in the time of David, and which led in the end to the disruption of the Kingdom. In our sources the history of this period has attached to it a religious interpretation: apostasy, and disobedience to the commands of Jehovah were the causes of the people being sold into the power of their enemies; when they returned to the worship of Jehovah and penitently pleaded for His forgiveness then deliverers were raised up who vanquished their oppressors. This can be nothing but a late interpretation, for the religion of the Book of Judges is of quite a fixed order, and many of the stories recorded in it will not lend themselves to any such interpretation. The hand that supplied this reading of the history of this period has been identified with the author of Deuteronomy, or, as some would prefer to say, with the school of thought that produced that work. There is a religious lesson in this history, as in all history; but it is hardly to be found in a series of apostasies and returns. There are really four separate endeavours to account for the undoubted fact of the Canaanites being spared. (1) Israel was not able to drive them out (Judges i. 19, 27). (2) Israel was only commanded to drive them out by degrees, "lest the beasts of the field increase upon thee" (Deut. vii. 22). (3) It was a providential arrangement to keep the Israelites practised in war (Judges iii. 1, 2). (4) It was due to direct disobedience to the command of Jehovah (Judges ii. 20). The history does not entitle us to assume that the judges were officials who exercised kingly rights over a united Israel. The word translated "Judge" more often means "Deliverer," and this is certainly the part that they play. Of some of the so-called minor judges we know nothing beyond their names, and there is evidence that they have simply been used to fill out a traditional period of 480 years (1 Kings vi. 1). Whenever the "Judges" assumed kingly or judicial functions trouble and rebellion always followed. The figure of Samson displays little fitness for ruling a nation or guiding it in religion, but the stones of his life are illuminating for the understanding of the morality and interests of that age. With this revised conception of the history of the Conquest, and of the events which followed, we are in a better position to estimate the effect of the change from nomadic life to a settled existence, and to understand how critical for the future of the religion of Jehovah this change was. We see tribes possessing little national unity, but bound together by a religion in which lay the germ of a mighty future, entering a land where the inhabitants had reached a higher stage of civilisation, and possessed a religion that drew its power from the fact that it was the worship of Baal, the possessor and owner of the land. In face of these conditions it was almost inevitable that many of the customs of the original inhabitants should be gradually adopted, and that the religion of Jehovah should borrow something from the religion indigenous to the land. This was certainly the result which followed. For a considerable period we find a religion prevalent among the common people, which is simply a conflation of the two religions. There were certain elements common to both, and certain advantages in the one, together with corresponding weaknesses in the other, that prepared the way for this syncretism. We shall now turn to examine the religion of the Canaanites, which we shall find to partake largely of the common elements of Semitic religion. Their deities were personifications of natural forces, and among these there is no one which is supreme, and nothing that tends to Monotheism. The gods are friendly and destructive by turn, and of unreliable character. It is nothing more than an undeveloped Polytheism. The religion, as it is seen in the Old Testament, groups itself around three names: Baal, Ashtoreth (often written in plural form Ashtaroth), and Molech (otherwise written Moloch, Milcom, and known to the Phoenicians as Melkart). The name of Baal has a hateful memory in the pages of the Old Testament as the Canaanitish deity to whom Israel constantly apostatised. The exact significance of Baal in the Canaanitish religion is a matter of dispute. He has been identified with the sun, and by the Greeks with Zeus; so that it has been inferred that Baal was the President of the Canaanitish Pantheon. This view is no longer generally accepted, for it certainly fails to fit in with the records of the cult preserved in the Old Testament. The word "Baal" is not a proper name, but signifies "the Possessor"; it is used in Semitic language for "husband," as the possessor of the wife, and is used as the name for deity, as the possessor of the land. Every land, and indeed every locality, will therefore have its own Baal; so that in the Old Testament we hear of the "Baalim" (the Hebrew plural), and these local Baalim are further distinguished by the addition of the name of their locality or of some event with which they were connected, as Baal-Peor, Baal-Berith, Baal-Zebul. The "Baal" is especially responsible for sending rain and sunshine, and for giving fruitful seasons. He is, therefore, the god of agriculture, and the great events of the agricultural year, such as harvest and vintage, are observed as his festivals. It is natural to find the uncertainty of the weather reflected in the character of the Baalim, with the result that we get a religion alternating between intoxicating joy and the deepest gloom. To appease the fickle god or to win his favour sacrifices, even of human lives, are presented, and if Baal continues unheeding, scenes of the most unrestrained fanaticism prevail. It is this gloomy religion which darkens the times of the later Kings of Judah. The Canaanitish Baal should be distinguished from the Baal of Tyre (Melkart) whose worship was introduced by Ahab. Here the introduction of an alien Baal, with probably different rites and ceremonies, awoke the resentment of the prophetic party under the leadership of Elijah, but the worship of the Canaanite Baal was maintained for long unchecked. Closely connected with the worship of the Baalim we find the worship of the Ashtaroth (Judges ii. 13). The pronunciation of this word is obscure; it was probably _Ashtart_, and the singular form, Ashtoreth (1 Kings xi. 5), has been formed by inserting the vowels of the word _bosheth_ (shame), a common device in the Old Testament for expressing contempt. Ashtart is the female counterpart of Baal, and is spoken of in the plural for a similar reason. Monuments of the worship of Ashtart are still to be found, and from these it is evident that we have here the worship of the goddess of sexual passion, as common in polytheistic systems, and best known in the Greek worship of Aphrodite. The whole conception of Ashtart can be traced to the famous goddess _Ishtar_ of Babylonian religion, and there is only too certain evidence that in Canaan as elsewhere the degrading rite of religious prostitution was used in this worship of female divinity (Hosea iv. 13). The identification of Ashtart with the "Queen of Heaven" (Jer. vii. 18; xliv. 15-25) is not so certain. As far as the worship of the latter is described to us, it looks like an importation of the Babylonian worship of Ishtar, who was identified with the planet Venus or sometimes with the moon. The "cakes to pourtray her" (Jer. xliv. 19) may have been crescent-shaped cakes. Of a similar character was the worship that gathered around the name of Molech. We have here simply the word for king (_Milk_) with the vowels of _bosheth_. Of this name, Moloch, Milcom, and Melkart of Tyre are variations. Molech is not to be distinguished from Baal, as may be seen from Jer. xix. 5, where the practice of passing children through the fire, which was certainly connected with the worship of Molech, is a part of the worship of Baal. This burnt-sacrifice of children evidently belonged to the Canaanitish religion (2 Kings xvi. 3). This then was the religion of the Canaanites: in times of prosperity and fruitful seasons, one of rejoicing and festivity; but in time of famine, drought or national danger, one of the most hopeless gloom and of the most fearful fanaticism. In conflict with this religion, the purer worship of Jehovah yet presented certain weaknesses; these are found chiefly in points of possible identification, which in the course of the history actually took place. This may be difficult for us to understand until we remember that Baal and Molech, to Semitic ears, simply meant "Lord" and "King"; and Jehovah was the "Lord" and "King" of Israel. If the character of Jehovah was not clearly apprehended as moral by the common people, we can see how easy it was for confusion to take place. The great weakness of the religion of Jehovah was that He was not the God of Canaan. His home was in distant Sinai, and the only symbol of His presence was the ark, a symbol bound up with the idea of war. As the people settled down to a peaceful agricultural life, the need for Jehovah, the warrior God, would not be keenly felt. There was certainly a party from the very first who recognised the difference between Jehovah and Baal and fought against their identification, but so long as Baal was believed to be a real being the danger of his secret worship at least was never far away. Every land had its own god, and although the people knew that Jehovah was their God, yet they might think it necessary, and not inconsistent, to pay their respects to the local Baalim on whom they were dependent for the fruits of the earth (Hosea ii. 8). Nothing therefore but a national calamity could revive the old religion in face of the attractions of the new; if peace had been continuous it is hard to see how the religion founded by Moses could have persevered. Such dangerous peace the Children of Israel were not to enjoy. We soon hear the rousing call to the help of Jehovah in the Song of Deborah, and it was the threatened domination by the Philistines that called the monarchy into existence and revived the religion of Jehovah. Meanwhile, however, a process of syncretism was gradually taking place, which it was to be the task of the Prophets to unravel; and how far it had gone may be seen from the difficulty they found in making the character of Jehovah and the moral demand made upon His worshippers clear to the people. "Jehovah," it must be remembered, was a name largely personal. Baal was a general name for deity, and could be applied to Jehovah quite truthfully. That this actually took place may be seen from a number of passages in the Old Testament. The most instructive instance is to be found in Hosea ii. 16; but the names given to places point in the same direction: David calls the spot where Jehovah broke his enemies, Baal-perazim; the same god is called indiscriminately, Baal-berith (Judges viii. 33; ix. 4) and El-berith (Judges ix. 46). This practice accounts for the names of Saul's son, Eshbaal, and of Jonathan's son, Meribbaal (1 Chron. viii. 33, 34), both of which have been altered in the Book of Samuel to "bosheth." (In obedience to the command of Exod. xxiii. 13, _Bosheth_ was substituted for _Baal_ in reading the Scriptures. The written text was altered in many places at a later period; the Chronicler must have found _Baal_ in his text of Samuel; that is about 200 B.C.) The names of Jehovah and Baal therefore came to have the same significance, and the distinction began to be missed; Jehovah was still the God of Israel, but the moral elements of His religion were gradually diluted with the naturalistic conceptions of the worship of Baal. Jehovah becomes the Baal of the land; that is, the relation between Him and Israel is conceived in a natural and even physical way. It is therefore no longer a covenant relation, which depends on the observance of moral obligations, but one of nature which cannot be broken by either party. Naturally the sanctuaries of the Canaanites are taken over by the Israelites, and Jehovah is worshipped in "the high places." All through the history worship at these local sanctuaries is condemned, but only from a later standpoint, for the earliest Book of Laws permitted an altar to be erected anywhere where Jehovah had manifested Himself (Exod. xx. 24). Around some of these undoubtedly Canaanitish sanctuaries the stories of the Patriarchs gathered, but from the practices which prevailed at such places as Bethel we can see that heathen rites were used, for here Jeroboam set up the golden calves, which seem to have been used in the worship of Jehovah, for neither Elijah nor Amos condemns them. Jehovah is now worshipped all over the land, but there is the same tendency to regard each separate place as having its local deity, and so Jehovah is multiplied (perhaps, Jer. xi. 13) and needs to be further identified by the addition of place names, as in the strange name El-bethel (Gen. xxxv. 7), El-elohe-Israel (Gen. xxxiii. 20), in a way that is very like the multiplication of the Baalim. So deeply was the worship of Jehovah mixed up with Canaanitish ideas that in the reign of Josiah the only possibility of reform lay in forbidding the worship at the local sanctuaries altogether and concentrating all worship at the central sanctuary of Jerusalem. Nothing but this process of syncretism can explain the condition of religion in the subsequent history, and it is needed to enable us to understand both the difficulty of the work of the Prophets and the form their message takes. Nevertheless, there must have been from the earliest times elements that made for a purer faith, and that never acquiesced in this confusion between Jehovah and Baal, which certainly prevailed in the popular mind; otherwise the Reformation of the Eighth Century would be an isolated and inexplicable movement, and without that historical support the Prophets claimed. There was a party against Baal altogether, although they do not emerge until the monarchy. This party may have consisted of the "priests" of Jehovah. At mention of these we must not think of the sacrificing priests described in the Book of Leviticus. No such persons are known until after the exile; during this period anyone could sacrifice. The story of the priest in Judges xvii. gives a good idea of this class; his chief duties seem to have consisted in keeping the oracle and obtaining decisions by the lot. These decisions became the basis on which there was gradually built up the _Torah_ (the Law), which, as the word implies, was a collection of decisions obtained by casting lots. For the purpose of obtaining these decisions the priests seem to have used an idol of some kind; for this is the most natural explanation of the Ephod and its use in the early history. There would be different degrees of intellectual and moral capacity found in the ranks of the priests, and many of them may have had higher ideals of their duties than the one mentioned in Judges. It would be likely that those who were in charge of the Sacred Ark possessed a superior dignity and maintained a purer tradition. Gradually the magical accompaniments to their oracular decisions may have given way to more judicial deliverances, although in the time of David and Abiathar they were apparently still used (1 Sam. xxx. 7). At any rate the priests kept alive the idea of Jehovah as the dispenser of justice, and helped to build up that system of laws for which Israel is so justly famous. This "higher critical" view of the history is simply one to which we are driven by the records that stand nearest to the times they describe. It certainly alters considerably the ordinary conceptions of the type of religion that prevailed in those early days, before the coming of the Prophets; but that such was the type is only too clearly shown by the writings of the Prophets themselves. Nevertheless this view of the period, while it shuts out a somewhat stiff and mechanical religious interpretation of the history which has been forced upon it by a later age, is still not without a valuable lesson, which is perhaps not taught elsewhere in the Bible, and yet is one that we need to have always before us. It is one, the possibility of which always exists and often threatens a spiritual religion: the danger of a gradual encroachment and assimilation of pagan ideas until the original purity is lost almost beyond recovery. If this has happened anywhere it has happened in Christianity. It was the awakening to this paganisation of Christianity that provoked the struggle of the Reformation, not yet decided. Many of the conceptions that are still popularly identified with Christianity are the remnants of paganism. It is not necessary to enumerate the common customs which wear only a thin veneer of Christianity; but many of the ideas in connection with Christian Doctrine certainly owe more to pagan philosophy than they do to the New Testament. The syncretism between Paganism and Christianity has not been destroyed by the Reformation. Many of the popular ideas of the Atonement, for instance, rest on a pagan conception of God and a materialistic idea of Christ's work which are so deeply involved in the common presentation of Christianity that to present the actual New Testament teaching would seem to many like a denial of the foundation truths of the Gospel. Still more dangerous is the localisation of the god as the peculiar patron of the land, which justifies many unholy wars and makes such a thing as a national repentance almost impossible. There is a god of the British Empire who is remarkably like the Jehovah-Baal of the old syncretised religion that ruled in the period which we have been studying, and whose worship begets equal indifference to the claims of true religion, and equally cruel treatment for the prophet who strives to call men to a purer faith. It is a relief to turn to a more comforting lesson. It is that which assures us that man's thought of God is not entirely his own, that it cannot be destroyed and is never wholly forgotten, but ever makes its way to higher truth and greater power. The way in which the higher religion comes is through the pure minds of those who wish only to live up to the fulness of the truth, and however mistaken they be, wish only to know and to do the will of God. A similar task lies equally before every honest man and every true Christian. The lesson is plain: beware of a stagnant religion that dreads progress, and keep the mind open as a child's to God's further revelation of Himself, which has yet many things to tell us. PROPHETISM--EARLY STAGES The reader is recommended to investigate for himself the origins of Prophetism by a careful examination of the following passages:-- I. There were originally Guilds or Schools of Prophets; from which it would appear that Prophetism was a kind of profession (1 Sam. x. 5; xix. 20; 2 Kings ii. 3, 5). There is nothing in the records that we possess that marks these bands of prophets as possessed of great spiritual power; they were devoted to the cause of Israel and Jehovah, and the way in which this was manifested was taken to imply that they were filled with the spirit of Jehovah; it inclines somewhat to the Dervish order of enthusiastic devotion (1 Sam. x. 5; xix. 20-24). It is significant that wherever these schools are found there is known to have existed a "high place," _i.e._, an old Canaanitish sanctuary, now used for the worship of Jehovah-Baal. A similar order of prophets was connected with the worship of the Tyrian Baal (1 Kings xviii.). II. Samuel (1 Sam. xix. 20) Elisha (2 Kings ii. 15; iv. 38; vi. 1-7) and in much less degree, Elijah (1 Kings xviii. 4; xix. 10) had some connection with these schools. III. The later Prophets did not claim descent from these guilds of "prophecy," and even repudiated any connection with them (Amos vii. 14). This conflict between the "called" prophet and the professionals is revealed in the fierce denunciations of Isaiah (xxix. 10) and Jeremiah (v. 31; xiv. 13, 14; xxvi. 7, 8). IV. The identification of these prophets with priests and seers probably gives a clue to their origin (1 Sam. ix. 9; Isa. xxix. 10; Jer. xxvi. 7, 8; Amos vii. 12). V. Certain individuals who are called prophets or seers had official court connection (2 Sam. xxiv. 11; 1 Chron. xxv. 5; Amos vii. 10). Between these "prophets" and the great writers who bear the same designation, we cannot fail to recognise an immense difference; Samuel and Elijah are connecting links between the two classes. Elijah is rather a hero than a prophet in the later sense, for he gives us no new doctrine, and Samuel is a seer who has risen to political power, rather than a religious ruler. Critics have discovered evidence of a double narrative in our documents. (Earlier) 1 Sam. ix. 1-x. 16; xi. xiii. 2-xiv. 52. (Later) 1 Sam. i. ii. iii. iv. vii. 3-17; viii. x. 17-25; xii. xv. If these be examined and contrasted, it will be found that Samuel is more allied in the earlier narratives with the "priest-seer" than with the Prophet of the type of Amos. A confirmation of this double narrative is found in the different accounts of the origin of the monarchy which they give. Samuel, according to the earlier sources, is just the type we need for the intermediate stage in the development of the Prophet. For the different historical conceptions of the work and character of David the narratives in Samuel should be compared with the representation given in Chronicles, and with that inferred by the ascription of various Psalms to his authorship. Lecture V PROPHETISM--EARLY STAGES We have seen that in the time of the Judges the religion of Jehovah became so mixed with elements taken over from the Canaanites that the original revelation gained through Moses was in danger of being lost. We have now to trace the steps by which this syncretism was broken up, and the advance made to the purely monotheistic conception and the lofty morality of the great literary Prophets. However this came about it is certain that it was not due to any gradual movement among the mass of the people, for the type of religion which we have been considering remains largely unaltered in its hold upon the popular mind. Through the teaching of the earlier prophets certain reforms were attempted, but none of them seem to have touched the heart of the nation. Hezekiah and Josiah attempted to reform religion by centralising the national worship, but, from whatever cause, it left the people still in opposition to the prophetic type of religion, a conflict that was only ended by the calamity of the exile. It is, therefore, to the prophetic band themselves that we must turn. Can we trace within this more limited circle a movement that shall in any way prepare us for the appearance of men of the type of Amos? To answer this question we must turn to the Books of Samuel and Kings. These present us with a history of the period which, like most history, has been written, or over-written, from a later standpoint and made to conform with later ideals. On the whole, however, and by contrasting it with the still later conceptions of the Books of Chronicles, we can form an accurate impression of the state of religion at this time; and incidentally we have a valuable account of a movement that evidently gave birth to those great conceptions of religion which were to be voiced with such power and force by the great Prophets. The writers who, apart from the value of their religious teaching, have by their distinctive style made the Old Testament a contribution to the literature of the world, are known to us as "Prophets." This name they share, however, with others who have left us no first-hand record of their religious opinions, and who, as described to us in the early sources, bear only the slightest resemblance to Prophets as we conceive them. Our task will be, therefore, to investigate the origins of this movement which embraces such diverse elements, and this we may commence by examining the meaning of the word "Prophet" (_Nabi_). Like many other words in the Old Testament that lock up important secrets, the origin of the word Prophet is obscure and its meaning disputed. The conception which is most natural to our word "Prophet" is of one who sees into the future; this is not even the main characteristic of the writing Prophets, nor does it embrace all the phenomena connected with the movement, especially in its early stages. All that can be said of the word from an etymological standpoint is that it has no origin which can be traced in historical Hebrew, and the inference is that it is either a very ancient word, or one borrowed from some other language. The word can, however, hardly be ancient, for it is not common to Semitic tongues, as is the word "priest," for instance, while we have a definite statement that within historic times it superseded the older word "seer" (1 Sam. ix. 9). The name was also used for certain devotees of the Tyrian Baal, whose worship was imported by Ahab; but it can hardly be that the name would be adopted directly from a phenomenon that was so repugnant to the Israelites, although the common name hints that there was a common ancestry somewhere. It seems fair to assume from the facts mentioned that the word is, at least, not older than the entry into Canaan, and while it cannot be definitely proved that it was borrowed from the Canaanites, there is some confirmation of this in the fact that the earliest occurrence of the name is in connection with the "sons of the prophets," who are always found in places where it is known that there were Canaanitish sanctuaries. The word _Nabi_ has been variously connected with the root, _nab'a_, "to bubble," and so one inspired; with the Arabic word, "to speak," and so a speaker or herald. The word seems to exist in Assyrian in the form _nabu_, "to announce," but this is probably from the name of the Babylonian deity, Nebo, the God of Eloquence, so that the word might mean one possessed by Nebo. Some have even looked to this as the ultimate derivation of the word. The investigation of the word really gives nothing satisfactory, and we must therefore turn to examine the character of the persons to whom it was applied. In various passages in the Old Testament, Seer and Prophet are so used as to lead us to infer that they embraced identical ideas (Isa. xxix. 10; Amos vii. 12), and in one passage, which has only the authority of a late annotation of the text, we learn that they were identical in their application (1 Sam. ix. 9). The other name with which Prophet is frequently bracketed is that of Priest; they are placed together in the denunciations of Jeremiah (ii. 8; v. 31). Our previous studies showed us that these classes were all somewhat akin in their origins; the duties of the priest were discharged in keeping the oracles, while the Seer is evidently akin to the Soothsayer, a type that has appeared in all religions. We have a concrete example of these classes being combined in Samuel. In the early story of Samuel's first meeting with Saul, we find Saul turning to consult the famous Seer in order to discover where his father's lost asses are to be found; and even the question of the Seer's usual fee is mentioned (1 Sam. ix. 8). This picture, which makes Samuel a notable Seer, is earlier and more authentic than that which makes him nearly a ruler over Israel. Although he is nowhere called a priest, yet he himself sacrifices, and his presence at a sacrifice is reckoned an advantage (1 Sam. xiii. 8-13); while we have the story of his sleeping by the ark in his youth. The Seer is, therefore, an exalted type of priest who has obtained renown by the success of his prognostications, and so we read of Seers attached to the courts of the Kings (2 Sam. xxiv. 11; 1 Chron. xxv. 5); but the later sources have recognised that there is something heathenish about the word, and have covered it up with the name Prophet. From the early descriptions of the bands of prophets in the books of Samuel, it would seem that they are more allied to the priestly order than to the Seers, for it is certain that down to the middle of the Ninth Century the name Prophet stands for something different from its use as applied to Moses and the literary Prophets. The name is applied to bands of men who "prophesy," but this prophesying is entirely unlike the methods associated by us with the prophetic spirit. It is evidently something which is done, not individually, but in companies, and apparently in solemn procession to the accompaniment of noisy music. It must have been a species of violent incantation, leading to acts of fierce fanaticism, in which the clothing might be stripped off, and often ending in complete mental prostration (1 Sam. x. 5, 6; xix. 23, 24). The connection of music with religious exercises is almost universal, and it always had a conspicuous place in the worship of Jehovah (2 Sam. vi. 5; Isa. xxx. 29), while music has often been used to induce the prophetic vision (2 Kings iii. 15). These prophets seem to have lived together in schools, semi-monastic orders, or guilds, and to have been found where there were high places, or Canaanitish sanctuaries; and from their behaviour we are forced to admit that we have here a common manifestation in the history of religion, where companies of men devote themselves to fanatical outbursts that are taken to indicate possession by the Spirit of God. To the accompaniment of music and frenzied dancing they work themselves into a state that approaches madness--always among uncivilised peoples taken to be a sign of the hand of God (Hosea ix. 7). We cannot fail to be reminded of the greater excesses of the prophets of Baal, the extraordinary performances of the dervish bands, and the fanatical excesses that have always disfigured monastic institutions. It cannot be dismissed, therefore, as incredible that this phenomenon was derived from the Canaanites, and developed a zeal for Jehovah that was manifested after a fashion common to the devotees of other religions. Down to a very late date in the history of the Kingdom, the literary Prophets found themselves in conflict with bands of prophets, who to their judgment prophesied falsely; and from the way in which these are often associated with the priests, it seems probable that they represent the deteriorated--or perhaps simply the stagnant--remnant of this earlier movement. It is, however, necessary to assume that even in the earlier movement there were purer elements than those which we have noticed, and that it embraced individuals who were led into a real fellowship with the mind of God, of which Samuel and Elisha are conspicuous examples. Religious movements of the "revival" type, which have undoubtedly inspired and produced great ethical changes and resulted finally in sane religion, have often been accompanied in their earlier stages by these frenzied outbreaks. It would be in response to some of those strange mental movements which modern psychology is endeavouring to understand, but also whenever danger threatened the nation or the national religion, that these enthusiasts would take the field. As the movement shed its purely hysterical elements, it may have been occupied in the compilation of the records of Israel's history, for many of these hardly reflect the higher prophetic standpoint, or in writing down such stories of their great heroes as we find connected with Elijah and Elisha. A connection with the literary productions of the great Prophets may be thus indirectly traced, as it also most certainly can in the prophetic _style_, which in its fierce rhythm of denunciation or its sobbing sweeps of passionate appeal recalls something of the incantation of the prophetic bands. Samuel, Elijah and Elisha, by their connection with this early phenomenon of prophetism and by the approximation of their work to the ideals of the later Prophets, are the true links between the earlier and later stages of the prophetic movement. It is both credible and natural that, when the movement had spent itself in some wonderful advance into ethical power and religious insight, the less noble elements should have still remained and continued to claim divine inspiration, and yet have been found in open conflict with its own nobler productions. It would seem that the obscure sect known as Nazarites were connected in some way with the early prophetic movement, for they are mentioned side by side with the prophets (Amos ii. 11, 12); and it is probable that Samuel was both a Nazarite and a prophet (1 Sam. i. 11), while Samson, in whom the Spirit of Jehovah seemed to produce these strange outbursts of savage frenzy, was certainly a Nazarite (Judges xiii. 4, 5, 7, 14). It would appear that the Nazarites were men who devoted themselves to the service of Jehovah under certain vows of abstinence from wine and ceremonial defilement. The vows might be taken for life or for a limited period, but while under the vow the hair was left unshorn. There is evidence that this is an old Semitic custom, and that when the vow was accomplished the hair was made an offering to the god (Num. vi. 18); to this day the pilgrims to Mecca are forbidden to cut their hair until the journey is completed. The law of the Nazarites (Num. vi.) is only a late attempt to legislate for a custom that had existed independently of the institutions of the religion of Jehovah, and so to secure a place within the official religion for a custom that would have been difficult to suppress by prohibition. Similar in many respects to the Nazarites, but even more obscure, were the Rechabites, who abstained from wine (Jer. xxxv. 2-10), but who seem also to have protested against the adoption of any of the arts and customs of settled life, especially as these customs were typified in the cultivation of the vine. They chose these methods in order to resist the influence of Canaan, which was threatening so dangerously the integrity of the nation and the national religion. They probably hoped by these conservative manners to destroy the syncretism between Baal and Jehovah; for the only other mention of the sect in the Old Testament is in connection with the extirpation of the house of Ahab (2 Kings x. 15-17). It may appear repulsive to those who have made up their minds as to the methods by which the Spirit of God can work to trace back the supreme genius, the impassioned ethical ideals, and the practical statesmanship of the great Prophets of Israel to movements bordering on insanity; yet it is from enthusiasm that most of the great saving movements of the world have come. Certainly the great religious revival which was soon to come in Israel owed almost as much of its success to these bands of enthusiasts as to the personality of Elijah. It falls now to our task to trace the movement from bands to individuals, from Prophetism to Prophecy, from a phenomenon to a teaching. We have records of men who seem to have moved beyond the mantic stage and who prepare the way for the great Prophets. We can conveniently call these "transition prophets." We shall find that they bear some resemblance to the old style of Seer, or to the guild prophets, or to both. Of some of these we have only the merest mention, so that they may be called the _minor_ transition prophets. Two stand together by their connection with David and from the fact that they both seem to have been Court officials (2 Sam. vii. 2; xxiv. 11; 1 Kings i. 10). There is no word here of the mantic fury of the early prophets; although in Gad, who makes known the best way to escape the anger of an offended Deity, we have a survival of the ancient seer; but in Nathan we have a truly noble example of one who, although he may have been dependent on David for his daily bread, yet faced him with the unsparing denunciation of his sin. Here is a man who regards right in Israel more than the smile of princes, and who has a higher conception of his office than that of a convenient manipulator of oracles for the flattering of a King. Nathan is a true ancestor of Amos and Jeremiah. Ahijah the Shilonite is famous because he foretold the disruption of the Kingdom (1 Kings xi. 29-31), and we may see in this the beginnings of that political judgment which was to become notable in the later Prophets; although a partisan motive might be suspected in this particular case, when Jeroboam, in later years, sent his wife to consult Ahijah, accompanied with the usual fee (1 Kings xiv. 2), the message he received shows that in Ahijah we have no party politician, but the impartial judgment of the later Prophets. There is a pathetic and somewhat mysterious story of an unnamed man of God who delivered the word of Jehovah to Jeroboam at the altar at Bethel, and who, refusing the accustomed hospitality due to a prophet, afterwards accepted the invitation of the old prophet of Bethel, and paid the penalty with his death. We have here a story, the moral of which may be obscure enough, but which certainly illustrates the growing conflict between the two prophetic ideals. Here is a prophet who travels from his own land to rebuke the sin of a King to his face, afterwards yielding to the blandishments of one of the official prophets. The new Prophetism, tempted from its superior position by the old, fell; yet not many years were to elapse before these two orders, in the persons of Amos and Amaziah, were again to face one another at this same spot, and this time the new Prophetism was to maintain its integrity (1 Kings viii.; Amos vii. 10-17). Before we pass on to the _major_ transition prophets, it will be well to consider here the effect which the foundation of the Monarchy had on the development of the religion of Israel. Of the inauguration of the Monarchy we possess two accounts; one extremely unfavourable, written doubtless after Judah's experience of some of her notorious Kings, and in the light of a somewhat ideal conception of the Theocratic government that was supposed to have flourished before the time of Saul (1 Sam. x. 17-24); the other account, in which Samuel himself at the revelation of Jehovah initiates the movement towards the Monarchy (1 Sam. ix. 15-x. 1) by anointing Saul, is the one that is placed earlier by the critics. The Monarchy was an inevitable stage in the social development of a settled people, and it was the policy of Samuel to make the Monarchy the organ of the Theocracy. For all this Saul does not seem to have had any influence on religion, or to have ever realised the needs of his times, and under the sense of failure he became a prey to fear and depressing influences which eventually wrecked his reason. Round the name of David have gathered the national ideals of heroism and sainthood so often found in combination in early story. They had a true origin in David, if we judge from the standards of piety and rulership that were natural to his age. Outlaw, hero, poet, saint--David is the darling of Israel's history. It would be unfair to David to picture him as the saintly author of some of the tender Psalms that bear his name, although others of a more robust character might well be from his hand. That David was a poet seems to be certain, and the songs of lament over Saul and Abner, which have strong claims to be genuine, bear witness to his true poetic gift; but they are deficient in any display of deep religious feeling. We may have also to reduce somewhat the conception of the extent or the absoluteness of his kingly rule. He was rather one of those freebooters who by their heroism and rough manly courage are able to gather round them men of their own nature and to inspire in their followers a loyal devotion. To this pleasant adventurer the early Kingdom fell, but for long it was only a kingdom of personal followers; nor does he ever seem to have been enthusiastically acknowledged by the whole nation, or to have established his claims absolutely beyond dispute. His heroic defence against the Philistine invasion was sufficient to give him a great place in the affection of the people, yet he never assumed the imperial rule in the manner of his successor Solomon. With all this necessary allowance for the idealising process of a later age, David was the indispensable centre round which the early ideals and legends of the Monarchy could collect. His work was of immense importance for the future; especially his conquest of Jerusalem, now for the first time wrested from the Canaanites and destined to become in the future the centre of the national life, to be bound up with his name, and above all to be the peculiar dwelling-place of Jehovah. To make Jerusalem his capital was a very diplomatic stroke, for it was neutral territory to both Ephraim and Judah, and this fact quietened the mutual jealousy of these tribes. It was also a great work of David that by his rough piety he definitely connected the Kingship with devotion to the cause of Jehovah. This devotion found expression in his care for the sacred palladium of the Tribes, although it was policy as well as piety that brought the Ark to Jerusalem; for we are forced to admit that in matters of religion David was not greatly in advance of his times. He regarded the jurisdiction of Jehovah as not extending beyond Palestine (1 Sam. xxvi. 19), and although he himself may have abandoned idols, yet he allowed them in his house (1 Sam. xix. 13), while he retained the old custom of consulting the will of Jehovah by the Ephod (1 Sam. xxx. 7) or by the movements of trees (2 Sam. v. 23-25). His conception of Jehovah was that of a Being of uncertain temper, who would take vengeance for any acts of ceremonial violation (2 Sam. vi. 9) or whose anger might be aroused for reasons beyond human discovery (2 Sam. xxiv. 10-17). But it would be equally wrong to blame David because he does not come up to the ideals of a later age. So far as it went, we may believe that his piety was real; he was a man after Jehovah's own heart, _for those times_. He certainly did his best to found a Kingdom on personal affection and to establish some kind of impartial justice. In the matter of Bathsheba and Uriah David has been judged by impossible standards, and especially by the religious ideas of the 51st Psalm, which bears in its every line evidence of a morality far too deep for the age of David, and which is quite unsuitable for a confession of murder and adultery. It was no crime in the eyes of an oriental monarch to take his neighbour's wife, and it was novel doctrine that David heard from the lips of Nathan; it is to be laid to his everlasting credit that he listened to this prophetic judgment, was convicted of the sinfulness of his act, and repented very profoundly. When we pass to Solomon we come to a character altogether different, but one that is very difficult to estimate from the portrait presented to us in the Old Testament. The writers allow themselves to be carried away by the tradition of his magnificence, and by the external evidence of his piety preserved in the splendid Temple which he reared to the glory of Jehovah; but they cannot produce much evidence for the depth of his personal religion. He attempted to build an empire on the lines of the barbaric and superficial glories of his greatest neighbours; but its splendour and certainly its significance have been rather overdrawn by the later historians. It was a reign of splendour, but for the religion of Israel it was unimportant, for it was in the main irreligious. Save for the presence of Nathan at his coronation, the prophetic ministry almost disappears in this reign; what prophets remain are opposed to his policy. Solomon was little more than a worldly cosmopolitan; his empire was magnificent in comparison with the achievements of his predecessors, but it rested not as David's on the devotion of the people to a popular hero, but depended for its strength on a system of taxation and a false imperialism: forced labour was employed and the loyalty of the tribes was strained. It was an endeavour to change the government from a natural and tribal system to that of an Eastern despotism; and it ended in failure. The building of the Temple was only a part of this policy, and it was a policy resented by the prophetic party, who were all for simplicity in matters of worship (2 Sam. vii.; omit verse 13). The Temple did not occupy too outstanding a place in the block of royal buildings, and there is no evidence that in this age it was anything more than Solomon's private chapel built with the desire to rival the splendid royal shrines of other countries. It was evidently designed largely on heathen models, and contained heathen symbols which the later religion absorbed with difficulty. The adoption of the Temple as the supreme centre of Israel's worship was not the work of Solomon, but the effect of the teaching of Isaiah of Jerusalem and the consequence of the reforms of Hezekiah and Josiah. The harem and the strange worship were similarly parts of an international policy. Solomon was certainly the first to give to the worship of Jehovah an imposing splendour and regularity, but it was not a splendour that appealed to the Prophets. The beautiful prayer of the dedication can hardly be the composition of Solomon, but is more likely to have been the production of a later age which endeavoured to give to this display a piety which the original did not possess. In time the Temple was to become of enormous importance, but in this period it remained only a magnificent shrine for the Ark. The fact that two of the prophets sided with Jeroboam may point to a revolt against this religious splendour. The bulls of Jeroboam were a counterblast to the Temple, and although his name is ever afterwards connected with the introduction of this idolatrous worship, and the succeeding Kings of Israel condemned for their participation, it is evident that these strictures are somewhat intensified by the conception that in the quarrel between Israel and Judah, Judah was in the right, and by the refusal to allow for the fact that this method of worship had not been condemned by any contemporary. The calves were most likely ancient symbols of Semitic divinity, and were certainly intended as symbols of Jehovah. Nevertheless, the future lay with the Temple and the South, for the revolution was based on a merely conservative impulse and contained no ideal. In the South, Jehovah was never worshipped with such an excess of heathen symbolism, and thither the voice of Prophecy soon transferred itself to find in Judah its greatest sphere. We are brought now to one of the most pregnant movements of this time, known as the northern prophetic revolt, and to the work and personalty of the major transition prophets, Elijah and Elisha. The introduction of the worship of the Tyrian Baal by Ahab was the signal for revolt. Here was a violation of the commonest conceptions of religion: the transplantation of the worship of another god, Melkart, the Baal of Tyre, into the territory of Jehovah, who was regarded as the Baal of Canaan. It opened the eyes of the schools of the Prophets to the danger of the use of the name of Baal, and was the cause of its complete disuse as a name for Jehovah (Hosea ii. 16, 17). In the revolt against the worship of this heathen Baal there stands out as its chief inspiration and leader the magnificent figure of the prophet Elijah. It is evident that in the story of his life we have much that is legendary and probably some confusion with the work of Elisha, but the religious significance is sufficiently clear. We have noticed that Elijah is remotely connected with the prophetic schools, and they share with him the persecution organised by the devotees of Baal; the old mantic accompaniments of prophecy are still found in Elijah; he seems to charm the rain (1 Kings xviii. 42), and he certainly hears it coming. With all his courage and insight he does not fully comprehend the true methods by which the religion of Jehovah is to win its way; conviction is to be brought by thunder and fire; if these fail there remains the sword. It may be difficult to decide whether Elijah actually conceived the wonderful revelation at Mount Horeb, but it is more than likely that to this man there came in the hour of failure the discovery that there were other ways more to the mind of Jehovah whereby men should realise His presence; a discovery which has been dramatised in the theophany on Horeb. Revelation by the still small voice of inner conviction certainly gained greater recognition after the ministry of Elijah. If we seek to understand the meaning of Elijah's stand for Jehovah, we shall see that it was first of all a protest against the syncretism of the Baal and Jehovah religions. This protest may have been founded initially on conceptions not too exalted, namely, that Jehovah and Melkart could not be worshipped in the same land, but there are evidences that Elijah had advanced further than that. His daring taunts to Baal amount to complete scepticism as to his existence, or at least of his power to injure the true follower of Jehovah. If that is so, then we have in Elijah the first monotheist. He clearly perceived that in character Baal and Jehovah were utterly different. The cruelty connected with the religion of Jehovah still persists under Elijah, but the incompatibility between the true religion and heathenism is recognised and affirmed. We may sum up Elijah's religion in his own phrase: "I have been very jealous for Jehovah." There is another aspect of Elijah's work which certainly forms a true transition to the teaching of the later Prophets; he denounces the murder of Naboth almost as much as the worship of Baal. We trace here the rise of the ethical conception of the service of Jehovah and the protest against social wrongs which was to become so great a part of the burden of such men as Amos and Micah. With Elijah we can see forming, however dimly, the thought of a Kingdom of God, and the peculiar patriotism of the Prophets: he desires an Israel independent of all heathen alliances; it is a conception of a Kingdom which shall be great in intension rather than wide in extension. It was this conflict of the prophetic and the so-called patriotic ideals that was to contribute largely to the final overthrow of the State. It may have been that the Prophets could never have built up a strong State on the lines they indicated, and their very protest may have weakened the arm of statesmen and contributed to the destruction of the Kingdom founded by David and Solomon. We can only feel that we side with the Prophets. If the prophetic voice had been silenced we might have had Israel with a kingdom as mighty as Assyria, although that is highly doubtful; but it would have been a kingdom as useless for its contribution to religion as that proud, vain, and cruel empire. The theophany at Horeb, therefore, whatever its embellishment and however symbolical its dress, is the true history of this period. In the development of the prophetic religion, magic and mystery are failing, display and external glory are passing away, and there enters from this time the conception of the religion of the inward voice on which the work of the later Prophets is built. Elisha is but a pale reflection of his master, and makes little contribution to religion; but we soon hear of Micaiah (1 Kings xxii. 8), whose message reveals the still widening gap between the professional prophet and the new order of men who hear with greater clearness the true voice of Jehovah. But sixty years have to pass, and Northern Palestine awakens to the echoes of a new voice, and listens to the new message of the first of that prophetic band who have enriched literature while they have exalted religion--Amos the herdman of Tekoa. Where elsewhere in history has there been a religion that, starting in comparative heathenism, almost lost in conflict with a fully-developed paganism, has yet moved steadily upward, breaking away from its origins, shedding the false charms of magic and sorcery, and rising by gradual ascent into fellowship with the Will of God? It is this _movement_ that constitutes the inspiration of the Old Testament and that makes it still a Word of God to us. Many of these conclusions, which have been put forward and established by critical methods, especially in reference to the religious feeling of those times, and in the different conception of the piety of men like David and Solomon, may strike the reader as startling and disturbing. That may well be, but that is no excuse for our reading into Bible story more than can be legitimately found there, while it will be sure to obscure some of its highest teaching, which is to be found not in isolated "texts," but in great movements. It is the facts that we have to face, and the facts are obscured not so much by the corrections of the history by the later historians, as by our forcing into them the still later conceptions of our own times. We have not given detailed proof of many of the positions here taken up; they may be sought in detail by the reader in the works of Biblical scholarship. Our object is to discover whether these things being so, we can still find a true revelation in the history of this people, and hear in it the Voice of God. Do we not get from this corrected view of the history, a sense of the splendid onward movement of this religion, which in itself is so much more inspiring than the monotonous conception, which is only the product of later Judaism, that the history of Israel's religion is nothing but a series of apostasies from a pure and perfect faith? That late conception is not borne out by a careful and critical study of the sources, and it rather owes its strength to-day to a certain dogmatic conception of human nature that is needlessly pessimistic, and to an idea of the weakness of the Spirit of God in His dealings with man that nearly approaches atheism. One or two lessons of the period stand out in strong relief. One is that better things come of enthusiasm, even when it is mistaken, than from indifference. The reference of all the institutions of Israel to the definitely revealed Will of Jehovah may seem to some, after these investigations, a mistake. This can only arise from too narrow a conception of the working of God and the means through which His Spirit reaches man, for it is this very reference to the Will of God that is responsible for the advance in Israel's faith. To believe in the Will of God, and to refer all to it, does gradually increase the knowledge of that Will, and so leads to a true revelation. Another lesson is, not to despise the accompaniments of the first movements of the Spirit of God in man. It is not within the scope of this work to enquire why it is that when a man is moved by the Spirit of God such strange phenomena as we have been studying in the prophetic bands, which still accompany many revivals, should be the immediate results. There must be patience with these things as beginnings; but equally must there be impatience with them when they elevate themselves into a permanent claim to recognition as the only signs of a true religious life, and when they refuse to recognise as higher the sane and ethical movement to which they themselves have given birth. One of the chief difficulties in things religious is to recognise the offspring of a great movement, to discover the time when the child must be allowed its new-found freedom, to know when symbols may be dropped and the reality brought in. Protestantism has given birth to wider thoughts about God and deeper appreciations of the extent of His working, which are the logical outcome of Protestantism, and yet which are often repudiated by those whose Protestantism is of the aggressive type. A progressive movement of any kind always has these strifes. They are as constant in Science as in Religion, only in Science they are more easily overcome by the greater readiness to accept new revelation. Christianity is a religion that moves, and, as Christ Himself foretold, it causes the son to rise up against his father, the new generation to come into conflict with the old. Ours it is never to forget that the Kingdom of God is on the side of the child; except ye receive the Kingdom of God as a child, in the spirit of enquiry and growth, except ye never grow old, ye cannot enter therein. THE RELIGION OF THE LITERARY PROPHETS THE CHRONOLOGY OF THE PROPHETS _Assyrian Period._ B.C. Amos 760-750 B.C. Hosea 750-737 Accession of Tiglath Pileser III 745 Isaiah 740-700 Invasion of Sennacherib 701 Micah 724- Fall of Samaria 722 Zephaniah _circa_ 627 Western Palestine invaded by Scythians Nahum 610-608? Fall of Nineveh 607 _Chaldæan Period._ Jeremiah 626-586 Deuteronomy discovered 621 Habakkuk 605-600? First Great Exile 597 Ezekiel 593-573 Second Great Exile 586 _Persian Period._ Isa. xiii.-xiv.; xxi. 1-10; xxxiv., (Date uncertain, but xxxv. definitely after the Exile.) Isa. xl.-lv. (The "Second" Isaiah) _c_540. Cyrus takes Babylon 538 Isa. lvi.-lxvi. (Various prophecies, to be dated after the return.) Return of the Exiles 537 Haggai _c_520 Zech. i.-viii. _c_520 Mal. 460-450 Promulgation of the Law 444 Zech. ix.-xiv. 322 There is nothing to enable us to decide the dates of Jonah, Joel, and Obadiah with greater definiteness than to say that they were written after the Restoration. Diagram representing the religious significance of the Prophets:-- FINAL EMBODIMENT GOLDEN AGE OF PROPHECY SILVER AGE OF PROPHETIC TEACHING _Exile_ + +--------+ PSALMS | | | | | | | + | +--------------+ 2 ISAIAH | | | | | | | +---+ JEREMIAH | | | | | | | | + | | +--+ HOSEA | | | | | | | | AMOS +-------+ MICAH--NAH.--HAB. +--+--------------+ WISDOM LITERATURE | | | | | | +-----------+ ISAIAH DEUT. | | + | | | | | | | | +-------------+ EZEKIEL -----+ THE LAW Judging from the standard of New Testament religion and their contribution to it, the Prophets may be roughly classified in the above order. The higher tendency seems to vanish from the historical works which were composed after the Exile, save in many of the Psalms, where religion reaches its highest expression outside the New Testament. The tendency represented by the middle and horizontal line ends in the somewhat superficial ethics of such works as the Book of Proverbs. The lower tendency _is only to be judged so from comparison_; it served its purpose, and it was an honest endeavour to reduce the Prophetic ideals to a definite system. It is in line with the spirit of many of the Psalms that the religion of the revelation of Christ takes its rise, and we may see in the Sadducees and the Pharisees the degenerate effect of the other lines of development. Lecture VI THE RELIGION OF THE LITERARY PROPHETS Among the writings of the Old Testament, the Prophetical Books, whether considered as literature or religion, are acknowledged to stand out as unsurpassed. If the Psalms claim to rival them it is to be remembered that the Psalms are probably to be traced to the Prophetic teaching. The Prophets themselves begin a new era; they are creative and owe but little to their past. That for so long a period, in unbroken continuity, there should emerge from a tiny nation a succession of men of differing temperament, training, and social position, who should with remarkable unity voice truths of religion not only hitherto unrecognised but rarely surpassed or apprehended in subsequent history, is in itself a unique phenomenon in comparative religion. Equally notable is the fact, that in the majority of the Prophets we have not only the gift of religious intuition, but that this is found in combination with great oratorical power, true poetic genius, and practical statesmanship. They remain for all time an indisputable witness to the Divine revelation in the development of Israel's religion. Previous stages which we have been able to recognise in the development of Israel's religion do not carry us on to Amos by so inevitable a movement, that his message could be predicted as the next stage to be reached. When we come fresh from the investigation of the religion held by the leaders of the people in the times of David and Solomon, we recognise the immense strides made when we open the Book of Amos. We can trace a likeness between Elijah and Amos in their denunciation of wrong; but, in the sphere of religion, there is a great gulf between them which no records of the intervening period quite help us to bridge over. We cannot think of Amos taking part in the great vindication of Carmel; it is probable that he would have recognised it as useless. In Samuel, Elijah and Elisha we undoubtedly have the religious ancestors of the Literary Prophets, but while they stood at the head of popular movements which they led in triumph against the intrusion of alien faiths, the Prophets that we are now to study stand in decided antagonism to the popular faith, and the conceptions of Israel's religion which they reiterate with such passion and insistency were never acceptable to the people. Their religion has to make its way against the national religion. The importance of the Prophets is the natural starting point for the modern study of the Old Testament, and it is from the earnest perusal of their writings that modern Biblical science has been forced to take up a rigorous criticism of the entire literature of the Old Testament. Under the old methods, the Prophets had only a secondary position in the history of the ancient revelation, since their message was conceived as rather concerned with an age yet to come than with their own times and needs. The Divine Law had already been given to the people, constituting a perfect norm of religion. When the people failed to obey the Law, then the Prophet appeared, enforced its principles, and condemned the people's apostasy. If that message was rejected, as it often was, then nothing was left for the Prophet but the proclamation of vengeance, or the prediction of a time when the Law should be ideally fulfilled by the revelation of the Gospel. Between the Law and the Gospel, therefore, stood the Prophets, but they acted only as a bridge from the one to the other. The natural method of studying their writings was to search for the fulfilment of their predictions in history. With these aims it was perhaps inevitable that their words should often be interpreted in a quite unwarrantable manner; events were read back into their prophecies, or the fulfilment was found in such ordinary coincidences that the dignity of prediction was itself lost, the study became puerile and morbid, while a fancied necessity as to what they must mean prevented any scholarly and unbiassed interpretation. Their works have consequently been largely used as mysterious oracles from which the future history of the world could be accurately predicted. To read the Prophets in order to obtain a picture of their own age was regarded as a secular occupation, while every attempt to recover the original application of their words was regarded as an endeavour to discountenance the proofs of Divine revelation. Many of their words bear remarkable likeness to the gracious invitations of the Gospel, so that they have been used equally with the New Testament for Gospel preaching, but it was never dreamed that they were real invitations to the people of their own times, founded on the eternal laws of God's forgiveness afterwards made clear in Christ; they were simply words spoken under mental effects which transferred the speakers to the time of the New Testament. Whatever the final results of the application of historical criticism may be, it has already laid religion under a permanent obligation in its discovery of the hitherto unrealised importance of the Prophets. At first attention was directed to their exalted ethical and religious standpoint, appearing as it did in an age that neither produced nor responded to it; minute study then showed that they gave first-hand and incidental accounts of their own times. Their messages bear witness to the contemporary state of the religion of Jehovah and the people's morals, and although it may be that they sometimes judged these from their own high standard, which caused them to paint them somewhat darker than an absolutely historical judgment would demand, yet on what the prevailing religious opinions of the day really were, they are the best evidence. The startling but unassailable deduction made from the Prophets' accounts of their own times is, that in matters religious they were proclaiming doctrines that seemed to their contemporaries entirely novel. The Prophets do not, however, acquiesce in the charge of novelty. They profess to go back to the original and inner meaning of Jehovah's choice of the nation. They refer to this choice, as a "covenant," and to the religion demanded by it, as the law of the Lord. The first inference is that they refer to that which _we_ know as the Law, the Pentateuch, or Law of Moses. A comparison with the Prophetic teaching with the ordinances of, say, the Book of Leviticus, shows that this cannot be the case, for they do not correspond. Many things there commanded as essential are passed over in silence by the Prophets; but the force of the argument is not wholly drawn from that, although it has a weight here which the argument from silence cannot usually carry, because both Leviticus and the Prophets' teaching set forth the essentials of religion, and there can be no possibility of doubt that the conceptions of the essentials have an altogether different outlook. It is chiefly, though not by any means entirely, from the standpoint of the Prophetical writings that modern criticism is forced to revise the conception of the progress and decline of religion that Jewish tradition has embodied in the arrangement of its Scriptures, and especially in the ascription of the Pentateuch as a whole to the age and authorship of Moses. The verdict from this comparison between the Prophets and the Law is, that the five Books of Moses either did not exist in their present form at the time of the Prophets, or, if they did, remained entirely unknown to them. The historical value of the Prophets is therefore to be rated very high, not only because of their transparent sincerity, but also because the historical data which can be secured from them are given indirectly, and are valuable for the same reason as the remarks of a contemporary diarist. They are unaware that they are writing history, and are consequently free from the almost unescapable tendency of the historian to make the facts fit into preconceived theories. Modern criticism, therefore, does rightly in making the Prophets of paramount importance for the understanding of the Old Testament, and when the Prophets are thus made the test, much in the history that was either completely hidden or difficult to understand, becomes visible and clear, and the progress of Israel's religion is displayed in all its grandeur and movement. We can now turn to examine the extent of the sources from which we may draw, in order to estimate the religious opinions and influence of the Prophets, and to examine the peculiar character of the literature for which they are responsible. First in importance stand the Books of the Prophets proper. In the ancient division of the Hebrew Bible into, (1) The Law, (2) The Prophets, (3) The Hagiographa, or the holy writings, "The Prophets" included, beside our Books of the Prophets, such historical Books as Joshua, Judges, Samuel and Kings. Significantly enough, however, Daniel is not grouped with the Prophets, but with the Hagiographa, either because it was not classed as prophecy, or more probably because the Canon of "The Prophets" had been closed by the time it was written. Therefore, in addition to the writings ascribed to the Prophets, there is a literature which has been influenced by their teaching, and this is found largely in those historical Books which have thus been rightly included in the Prophetical division of the Hebrew Bible. That is to say, however, that Books dealing with history prior to the rise of the Prophets, show traces of an influence that can only have emerged later. It is here that criticism seems to the ordinary reader to enter very debatable ground, although among critical students of the Bible the question is no longer an open one. They claim that the peculiar conditions under which Hebrew history was compiled allow us to discern, and to separate with ease, this later prophetical editing, whereas in other literatures such would be impossible. History was compiled among the Jews largely from pre-existing documents, much as it is everywhere, with the difference that in the Old Testament the records have been simply pieced together with whatever corrections and reductions were rendered necessary, while the conceptions of the later times, when this re-editing was accomplished, are often simply superimposed; this method has been ridiculed as an invention of the critical mind, but it is simply an indisputable if tiresome fact which has to be taken into account in any serious study of the literature. The narratives of the documents that have been named "J" and "E" bear the marks of having been combined under the influence of prophetical teaching, since this teaching, it is to be noted, is recognisably incompatible with other parts of the stories which have been left untouched. It has been suggested that criticism seems to assume that religion progressed until it reached a certain height in the Eighth Century, and to enable this theory to stand all marks of this supposed later type appearing earlier are classed as interpolations. It is usual to trace this theory to "Evolution gone mad." Even on the critical theories this cannot however be legitimately shown to result, since critical reconstruction shows that the supreme height gained in the Prophets was never maintained, but suffered a perceptible decline. Whatever the guiding idea of criticism may be, it cannot be an endeavour to make the history of Israel's religion confirm some theory of the natural development and evolution of religion. The critical theories leave us with the problem of moral lapses to account for and with the failure of vision to explain, and demand still a moral insight to detect the cause. But it is clear to many that the moral causes do stand out more clearly discoverable by this method. The critical theory of the priority of the Prophets is not based only upon the emergence under their teaching of certain theological ideas for the first time; but also on the difference of style and vocabulary which can be recognised after only a slight acquaintance with the language; and on the general outline of the history that the Bible itself forces upon us. It is a fact which the reader can soon discover for himself, that the historical Books are compilations from the records of various ages, and these various ages can be as easily discerned as the conflicting styles of an oft-restored church, or the disturbance of the normal geological strata that demands some upheaval for its explanation. It must be remembered that all this is made possible from the fact of the remarkable uniformity of ideas that characterises the various stages of Hebrew religion. The Prophets' teaching can therefore be traced outside their own writings; mainly in fragmentary comments added to the narratives; or in a superimposed colouring, which easily falls off, leaving the original outlines in view; but it is supposed to be found grouped into one great mass in the Book of Deuteronomy. The critics' theory of this Book is that it is an endeavour to reduce the teaching of the Prophets, more especially that of Isaiah, to a code, and to secure reform by the centralisation of worship at Jerusalem. This idea of a central worship, which leaves no record of its actual observance until the time of Josiah, or perhaps an attempt in the reign of Hezekiah, is so unmistakable and is so uniformly expressed that the work of this author (perhaps we should say, this school) can be easily detected, and many of the Books, such as Judges and Kings, can be seen to have been subjected to a "Deuteronomist" redaction. In all these phenomena we have teaching that presupposes the Prophets, and that stands in contrast and often in conflict with the general tone of the original. It is remarkable that with such redactions of history any clue to the earlier conceptions should have been left to us, especially that there should have been left in the records anything that would be in disagreement with the editors' ideas, but the Jews, like the other nations of antiquity, did not possess modern notions of exactness, and their notions of history prevented them from understanding things that were removed only a short distance from their own times. It is hardly surprising to find that this Prophetical literature was in turn liable to redaction, though in a different degree and for a different reason, since it has been preserved to us under peculiar conditions. This at first may seem terribly confusing to the bewildered student, and it is here that tired men reject criticism and all its works. To such the reminder cannot be spared that in any branch of Science the same conditions have to be overcome, and if he would understand the Old Testament and reap the magnificent reward that its earnest study gives, he must be prepared to face the facts and labour at their solution. First of all then, it must be noted that the Books of the Prophets are not so much literature, in the ordinary sense of the word, as reported rhetoric, with the qualification that the reporter and the speaker may be usually assumed to be the same. In most cases the speeches were written out by the Prophet himself soon after they were delivered, although sometimes this was done by others long after, and expanded or altered, as is actually reported to have been the case with the prophecies of Jeremiah (Jer. xxxvi.). In the second place, the literature reveals the fact that there does not seem to have been in that age any conception of literary property; ideas are borrowed directly from one Prophet by another, and sometimes direct quotation is made without any acknowledgment or indication of the source. The Prophet's scribe, his school or followers, could amend or paraphrase; later generations could evidently insert a qualifying phrase, temper a threat with a qualifying condition, or to the doom of exile add a promise of restoration. When it is noticed that messages like those of Amos or Hosea end unexpectedly in hopeful words, and when it is recollected that these Prophets have been used as Service Books in the Synagogue and may have been therefore altered to suit the purpose, then we shall understand the problem that faces us and why a shadow of suspicion should rest on promises of restoration that are to be found in pre-exilic writings. Let it be remembered however that it is no true critical canon to assume that prediction cannot be made; but what are we to do when such a prediction fits ill with the context, breaks the sense, is foreign to the outlook of the speaker, and is in later style? Finally, there seem to have been many prophecies circulated anonymously, and since a place had to be found for these they were inserted in other writers, on no principle that we can discover, or more often were grouped together at the end of some notable Prophet's works. In Zechariah we have to suppose three strata of different authorship and date, or give up the rational study of the Book altogether; and in the famous case of the Book of Isaiah we have to suppose that some of the early chapters are the work of a post-exilic author, while chapters xl.-lxvi. are a heterogeneous collection by a number of writers, of which chapters xl.-lv. are recognised to be by one hand, and that, one of the most wonderful personalities which has contributed to the Old Testament; about that grand figure we only know one thing, that he was not Isaiah of Jerusalem. This has been called "sawing Isaiah asunder" and making the Bible a piece of patchwork and the critics are blamed; but if they are right, these complaints are not directed at them, but at the Bible itself, a proceeding which to say the least, is not pious. When a writer could say many years later that revelation came of old time in many fragments (Heb. i. 1), others beside critics fall under these hasty condemnations. It is refreshing to turn from this less interesting part of our subject, which nevertheless demands serious study from anyone who would be informed where ignorance has done and still is doing so much harm, and to examine the features which distinguish the work of the literary Prophets. We have already spoken of the novelty of their message. Whatever theory is chosen for the study of Old Testament history, nothing quite prepares us for the message of the Prophet Amos. What an inspiration we miss because he does not stand in our Bibles in his rightful place, at the head of the Prophets! His bravery and ruggedness remind us of Elijah, but he brings something that Elijah is far from giving us. Elijah was very jealous for the due recognition of Jehovah as the only God for Israel; Amos is jealous for the recognition of the true _character_ of Jehovah. That is to say, we receive from Amos definite teaching concerning the character of Jehovah and His relations to the people of Israel, and these doctrines are startling to Israelitish ears. Almost the first thing that strikes us as an outstanding characteristic of the Prophets is that they are conscious of a call to which they often appeal. Five of them definitely refer to the circumstances of their call (Amos vii. 14; Hosea i. 2; Isaiah vi.; Jer. i. 4-10; Ezek. i. 1-ii. 3). The same is true of their predecessors, but in a different way; they stand as defenders of the national religion because they belong to the prophetic guilds or possess certain gifts of vision. On the other hand the literary Prophets are against the national religion as a perversion of the true, and to this weary and warlike work they are called by immediate and special summons of God. This call is not self-originated nor can it be evaded (Jer. xx. 9), and in some cases there has been no preparation for the office (Amos vii. 14, 15), and even positive unfitness (Jer. i. 6). They are very careful therefore to distinguish themselves from the schools of prophets. Professionalism has disappeared, and in Jeremiah the official idea also vanishes. The peculiar mental condition of the Prophets has of late years attracted a great deal of attention. The rapture and holy frenzy into which they are sometimes thrown remind us of the phenomena accompanying the early Prophetism, studied in our last lecture; but this is now accidental and is becoming rare. The Prophets often speak of this as "the hand of the Lord" upon them (Isa. viii. 11); in the visions of Ezekiel the effect is often described as overpowering (Ezek. iii. 14 ff.). There is a similarity between the accompaniments of these states and the trances which have been found in so many religious movements, and which are now attracting the attention of the scientific world so seriously. Only the results differ remarkably from the effects obtained in hypnotic and sub-conscious states, with which the prophetic gift has sometimes been compared. The Prophet still exhibits his natural style when under the influence of the Word of the Lord. Yet it may be that there is something to be learned along the lines of modern research; we know that if certain states of mental passivity can be induced, there lies open a new realm of knowledge, which, although it can be accounted for, cannot be summoned under ordinary mental conditions; add to this the superior moral constitution which seems to be missing from the mediums of spiritualistic phenomena to-day, and the prophetic consciousness becomes more comprehensible. The Prophets often speak of visions, but it is difficult to gather their actual character. It can hardly be objective; it is more like the artistic vision which creates within the mind in perfect detail and objectivity, so that what is seen has greater reality than any reproduction on canvas or in stone. The mind would seem to project its vision by the strength of its imaginative powers, so that, owing to the emotion aroused by the nature of the truth perceived, the revelation appears to come from an entirely external source. Sometimes it would seem to be an actual beholding of some natural object, which induces a train of thought, as the case of Amos's vision of the plumb-line may well be. We cannot think either of any organic hearing of their message, since they sometimes also declare that they "see" it. Their predictive power has been exaggerated, chiefly because it was thought that this was the only office of the Prophet. Where it occurs it is mostly a natural deduction from their insight into the movements of their age, their conception of the unchangeable character of Jehovah, and their belief in His providential government; the emphasis is never upon details, and it may be added that the prediction is by no means always fulfilled. Their vision of the future usually takes a certain outline, or order; a national calamity is immediately impending, in which they recognise the punishment of the people's sins and the complete triumph and vindication of Jehovah; this will result in a purifying of the nation, and in the immediate succession there will come the Messianic or ideal era. Still there are predictions which cannot be explained on any theory yet broached, such as the prediction by Isaiah of the destruction of Sennacherib's army, or Jeremiah's prophecy of the Restoration. If this is ordinary second sight, then it is strange that it should have occurred in so many cases at this time when prophecy was dropping its mysterious accompaniments. Yet it may be recalled that in the history of all nations there has been, in times of great national affliction, a tendency to prophecy of this order, which can sometimes claim a remarkable fulfilment. The distinguishing glory of Israel's prophecy is, however, to be sought in its ethical character, and it is perhaps to the writings of men like our own Carlyle, where we often catch the old prophetic ring, that we are to look for its analogy. Among the things that separate Amos from his predecessors is the use of a literary channel for the dissemination of his teaching, which was of course primarily preaching. This in itself marks a great change. What was it that led the Prophet to write down the message which he had delivered? It may have been that there was a tendency towards literature at that particular period, but even before this the habit of keeping records must have commenced, while there is evidence of collections of poems or sagas, such as the Book of Jasher, or the Book of the Wars of the Lord, being in existence from a very early period. It is evident therefore that we need some particular occurrence to account for the adoption of literature as the vehicle of Prophecy. It has been suggested that the cause is to be sought initially in the rejection of the message of Amos by those to whom it was delivered: he was aware of the permanent application of the truths that he had delivered, and since his own times would not hearken he resolved to commit them to the verdict of posterity. The example once set, it was natural for the succeeding Prophets to wish to give something more than the fleeting character of the spoken word to teaching that was new and that had been rejected, and therefore to adopt this form (Isa. viii. 16 f.). Whatever the cause, we are thankful for the results. The channel chosen for the preservation of their messages was not purely literary; the form is not that of the essay, or thesis; it has not the studied elegance of poetry, yet it rises above prose, and rhythmic verse is found scattered throughout their writings. These reports of passionate oratory fall naturally into poetic form as the Prophet is carried away by his message. Especially do we find a very extensive use of symbolism, which has proved a trap into which the literalist has hastened to fall. The relation of the Prophets to the State is difficult for us accurately to appreciate. Samuel, Elijah, and Elisha headed what were practically popular revolutions; in them nationalism overshadows the universally religious, or the purely moral ideal. To appreciate the contrast that the literary Prophets present to this, a careful study should be made of 2 Kings ix. 7-10; x. 30, and this compared with the verdict of Hosea, which rises above the standard of State interest to a judgment of universal morals (Hosea i. 4). The literary Prophets have no office at court and receive no fee (Micah iii. 2); but they have an official connection with the nation, which they regard as the chosen instrument for the establishment of God's reign; they have no conception of a secular state for Israel. It became therefore a tragedy for Jeremiah to be so completely rejected by the nation, for then he felt his prophetic office really ceased. It was this that drove him into a personal relationship with God that is not reached by any other of the Prophets. It is not correct to say that the Prophets were social reformers or practical politicians. Their sole concern is with religion, but it is a religion that goes very deep, and that must express itself in social and national ethics. It is however upon their distinctive message that the chief interest centres, not only for the understanding of their age, but for their permanent contribution to religion. It is a declaration of pure ethical Monotheism. Jehovah is not simply the tutelary deity of Israel; He is the Only God. The gods of the other nations are not real beings; this truth is vividly expressed in the scorn which is poured on idols and their worship. Jehovah is a spiritual Being; therefore the crusade against the idols that had been used in the worship of Jehovah is an outcome of prophetic teaching. This condemnation of idols in the worship of Jehovah is not actually met with until Hosea (xiii. 2), but that any visible form of Jehovah is derogatory to the true conception of His glory is the only possible deduction from prophetic teaching. We still get the naïve terms that refer to Jehovah as if He had bodily parts; but this is nothing more than the necessary imagery which all spiritual conceptions have to employ, and which are not mistaken by any save the most ignorant. This purely spiritual Being fills the whole universe (Deut. x. 14; 1 Kings viii. 27; Jer. xxiii. 24; esp. Isa. xxxi. 3, which implies more clearly than any other statement in the Old Testament the spirituality of God, and thus anticipates the declaration of Jesus to the woman of Samaria). But it is with the _ethical_ character of Jehovah that they are mostly concerned. He is righteous; which means more than the early conception that He simply defends Israel's right. They insist on His complete impartiality, which no choice of Israel for His own can turn aside: "You only have I known of all the families of the earth, _therefore_ will I visit upon you all your iniquities." They fall back again and again on His absolute fidelity and truthfulness. The arbitrary character which is ascribed to Jehovah in the Books of Samuel has completely disappeared; the Prophet can say: "Come and let us reason together, saith Jehovah." Universalism is the necessary corollary to Monotheism, but the strong sense of Israel as His chosen instrument hinders the clear statement of this truth by the Prophets. A particular regard for Israel still colours their vision; but they are altogether against the popular estimate in maintaining that this choice was made solely as a means for reaching the whole world. Universalism is seen forming in the idea that Jehovah is concerned with the punishment of other nations, since He it is who will punish them for their sins; not only for their hatred of His chosen, but for their cruelty to other nations: He will punish Moab for his inhumanity to Edom (Amos ii. 1). This is a great advance. Even when the surrounding nations afflict Israel it is not because the Lord has no control over them, but it is He that raises up the hostile powers as instruments of His chastisement. Even kinder views are to be found in Amos, in whose tiny book we find nearly all the characteristic ideas of the Prophets; for Jehovah is said to have been concerned in the early migratory movements not only of the Hebrews, but of the hated Philistines and Assyrians (Amos ix. 7). The grand universalism of Isaiah xix. 19-25 only needs us to recall the part that Egypt and Assyria played in the history of Israel, in order to appreciate its magnanimity. Yet in spite of these passages, the outlook as a whole is centred on Israel, and works of a definitely universalistic nature could hardly have found a place in the canon. This spirit probably made it necessary for the writer of "Jonah" to embody his universalistic doctrines in the form of an obscure parable about a Prophet and a whale. It was the same national bigotry that led to the rejection of the Son of man. It is in the idea of the conditions of the covenant between Jehovah and Israel that the teaching of the Prophets stands in such contrast to the conceptions of the people. That relation was conceived of, as we have seen, as tribal; the Prophets declare it to rest on a covenant of choice, which is to be maintained by the adherence of the parties to the original terms. They love to place in contrast the unwearied faithfulness of Jehovah and the fickleness of the people; while they alternate between threats of Jehovah's complete rejection and the recurring thought that despite all He can never change, and against all known custom will even welcome back the harlot nation. Jehovah's requirements from Israel, for the proper maintenance of the covenant, are simply the full allegiance of the people; but how this is to be displayed is not so definitely described. There must be a pure worship of Jehovah, but this is not to find expression in accurate ritual or great sacrifices. Indeed it cannot be claimed that the Prophets are at all concerned about ritual. The Book of Deuteronomy distinctly lays down that the true worship of Jehovah is to be performed at one chosen central spot, while Leviticus provides an elaborate method of approach, which can only be neglected at the peril of the worshipper. On the other hand, it is certain that the Prophets found the people worshipping at the "high places," the old Canaanitish shrines, with many customs which would be a direct infringement of the Code of Leviticus, yet they are entirely unconcerned with these faults. The principle of sacrifice as a means of worship had existed from ancient times, and is to be found in nearly all religions; yet there is an overwhelming verdict from the pre-exilic Prophets that shows that they are doubtful of its Divine appointment or of its necessity. (These passages should be carefully examined:--Amos v. 25; Hosea vi. 6; Isa. i. 11-17; Micah vi. 6-8; 1 Sam. xv. 22; Jer. vi. 20; vii. 21-23; and Jeremiah may have been a priest!) There is only one conclusion possible; these Prophets had never seen the Book of Leviticus. The ritual which the Prophets seek is that of an upright life. They base all their morality on religious ideas. The great incentive to moral conduct is the recognition that the whole nation and land is the property of Jehovah; any social wrong is wrong against Him. So we find that the earliest attempt to formulate this teaching in a code contains many regulations which are purely humanitarian (Deut. xiv. 29; xix. 2 ff.; xxi. 10-17; xxii. 1-3; xxiv. 6, 10-15). Ritual is turned into ethics. Against the inequalities and injustices of their day the Prophets set their faces, with an utter disregard for consequences: they hurled their accusations at the nation with tremendous energy, in public, before kings, as men went up to worship; fiery denunciation mingling with a patriot's tears; for the time, all unavailing. Yet they have had their harvest, and to-day they are among the voices that call men to social reform. It will be well to endeavour to show, in the briefest possible outline, the historic setting of this mighty message. It was shortly after the opening of the Eighth Century that threatening indications began to gather on the horizon of Northern Israel. The situation called for a Prophet's message. Amos, the herdman of Tekoa, comes like a whirlwind from Judah, utters his message at Bethel and returns. He is the first and in many respects the greatest of that meteoric band who illumine the dark night of Israel's history; later Prophets repeat his words and share his ideas. Hosea, from the Northern Kingdom, follows in his steps, but with a message made the more tender from the fact that the whole drama of Israel's unfaithfulness to her husband Jehovah had been brought home to him in a personal domestic tragedy. The tender heart which led him to forgive his unfaithful wife, wondered if Jehovah would not be equally forgiving, and through this experience he almost penetrates to the thought of God as Love. A few years later, a voice is heard in the villages of Judah proclaiming the message of Amos with the same call to simple reality: Micah pleads for simple life, simple worship, simple justice. With this transference of the prophetic voice to the Southern Kingdom there falls an awful silence on the North. In 722 B.C., Samaria fell before the arms of Assyria, and Israel ceased to exist. For centuries that land was to remain silent and despised, until there should come from Galilee of the Gentiles He of whom all the Prophets spake. One would expect that the awful doom which had overtaken the Northern Kingdom would not have been without effect on Judah. Its only visible effect was the strengthening of her belief in her own inviolability, and the acceptance of the idea that Israel's fall was due to her separation from Judah. If a Prophet could have turned the people's thought in a saner direction, then it would have been accomplished by Isaiah, the most princely and the most literary of all the Prophets. His work was not indeed without effect. He was the means of lifting prophecy into popular favour, and a revival followed his teaching. The chief cause of this favour was the events of the memorable year, 701 B.C. In face of the demands of Assyria, Isaiah had all along counselled submission and the avoidance of all intrigues with Egypt. But the violation of the treaty by Sennacherib, who demanded the surrender of the city after he had been bought off, roused the anger of Isaiah. In answer to the insulting message of the Rabshakeh, while the army lay round the city, in obedience to the word of Jehovah he counsels resistance. Nothing seemed more improbable than that there could be any escape for Jerusalem; nevertheless he declared that the holy city should be inviolable. The great host with their insolent captain lay before the gates, but in the morning "The Gentile, unsmote by the sword, Had melted like snow in the glance of the Lord." Whatever the actual cause of the raising of the siege may have been, there can be no doubt that something did happen to the Assyrian army which Isaiah was able to attribute to the intervention of Jehovah, for from this time Isaiah became famous. To those who see in the fulfilment of prediction the chief end of prophecy this event will naturally seem of profound importance. To another view of the function of prophecy this is the least thing that Isaiah did, for while it lifted his name into popular favour, that same deliverance proved a snare to the inhabitants of Jerusalem. For his declaration of the city's inviolability was remembered long after, and quoted as if it had been of universal, instead of temporary application, while his moral teaching was forgotten. To that trick of national memory the exile was largely due. From this time the sacrosanct character of the city obsessed the popular mind, and in consequence the Temple became, for the first time since its erection, of supreme significance in Jewish eyes. Following Isaiah, there was a movement, commenced probably by his disciples, that strove to bring the Temple into prominence as the one authorised place of worship. Possibly during the reactionary reign of Manasseh, when their master is said to have been martyred, they worked at this idea, and driven into silence by the persecutions of the king they employed their pens in producing a code of laws, which undoubtedly gathered into legal form many of the customs which had existed for centuries, and endeavoured to give them the religious interpretation of the prophetic teaching. Its chief injunction was the suppression of the high places as no longer authorised for the worship of Jehovah, hoping to centre thereby the whole of the nation's worship at the Temple. This code was probably laid up for publication in brighter days, and was discovered in the reign of Josiah, in the year 621 B.C. There can be but little doubt, from the reforms instituted, and from the total disregard of them until this time, that this code was our Book of Deuteronomy. Since it was published under the name of Moses, many moderns have looked upon its compilation as a pious forgery. This is to read into a past age the legal conceptions of Western civilisation. It must be remembered that many of these laws could be legitimately traced back to Moses or to his influence, and there was no idea of deception in using his name. The hand of the School which produced this work can also be traced in the compilation and redaction of other historical works, which were undertaken with this idea of making the past history teach the value of the reforms they wished the people to adopt. This was not only regarded as legitimate, but as a sacred duty imposed upon them. The modern historical ideal, which instigates research with the sole intention of discovering the facts, is only the product of our own age, and is still unsuccessfully striven after. The reformation under Josiah is therefore known as the Deuteronomic reformation. From this time the Temple becomes the only spot where God can be publicly worshipped, and the local shrines are forbidden. This may seem an arbitrary action, and it is possible that for some time it called forth loud complaints; but it was certainly for the benefit of religion. It had been proved to be impossible to dissociate the local shrines from the customs and ideas which had descended from the original Canaanitish worship carried on there. With a central worship it was found possible to check practices that were not in accordance with the religion of Jehovah. The teaching of the Prophets finds then in the Book of Deuteronomy its first-fruits of reform. The relation of one young man to this new movement is full of peculiar interest and difficulty. It was at this very time that Jeremiah began his ministry, and it is possible that he took some part in the movement (Jer. xi. 8). He also lived to see the reaction and to prove that the reform was only superficial. There is one passage which seems to point to a change of view and even to the suspicion that the new code was not authoritative (Jer. vii. 8). When Jeremiah attacked the sin of the people, and warned them that the presence of Jehovah's Temple would not suffice to protect them if they persisted in their iniquity, his message was rejected and eventually he was imprisoned and silenced by a coalition of the priests and prophets. Jeremiah ceased therefore to be the Prophet of that nation. In his loneliness and sorrow, his thoughts turned in an hitherto unexplored direction. He complains to God in words which sound almost blasphemous, and pours forth expostulations that are the reverse of the submissive spirit usually thought proper to religion; but it is through this agony that Jeremiah discovers that God can be something to him, not only as the Prophet of the nation, but for himself. He discovers personal religion. His next discovery is equally momentous; for he is led to see that no promulgation of laws can save the nation: ordinances do not change the heart. He sorrowfully pronounces the doom of the nation, but as he stands by its open grave he sings of its resurrection. When purged by trial the nation shall return, and the New Covenant shall be set up, in which Jehovah shall write His laws in their hearts. It is a long far-off look that he gives, and the picture is not complete until One sits at a last supper and says: This cup is the New Covenant in my blood. THE EFFECT OF THE EXILE Dates for reference:-- B.C. 597. Jehoiachin and 10,000 captives deported to Babylon, and Zedekiah made king in his stead. FIRST CAPTIVITY. 587-6. Jerusalem besieged, Zedekiah taken to Babylon, Jerusalem and the Temple destroyed, and the whole population, save the very poorest, deported to Babylon. SECOND CAPTIVITY. 538. Cyrus issues edict for Return. Return under Sheshbazzar (?) (Ezra i.). 537. Return under Zerubbabel (Ezra ii.). 458. Arrival of Ezra. 445. First Mission of Nehemiah. 433. Second Mission of Nehemiah. There is a good deal of uncertainty about the above dates, and the condition of the documents in Ezra-Nehemiah offers difficulties which have not, so far, found acceptable solutions. Some have sought to identify Sheshbazzar with Zerubbabel, and to bring down the date of the Return to 522-21. It will be seen from the above Table that Jeremiah's prophecy of Seventy Years was not literally fulfilled. * * * * * The student would receive a clear idea of the growth of Israel's institutions and the way in which they have been incorporated in the successive documents, by tracing the development of the Sabbath in the following passages. Some claim that the Records of Babylonia show that the observance of the seventh day as sacred goes back to the origins of primitive Semitic religion. (1) In "J-E" (which may be prior to Amos in oral form, and perhaps slightly later as documents): Exod. xxiii. 12; xxxiv. 21; xx. 8. (2) In historical books: 2 Kings iv. 22, 23; Amos viii. 5; Hosea ii. 11; Isa. i. 13. (3) In "D": Deut. v. 14. (4) In Jer. xvii. 19-27. (Jeremiah is the first writer to show traces of the influence of Deuteronomy.) (5) In "H," The Code of Holiness (Lev. xvii.-xxvi.): Lev. xix. 3, 30; xxvi. 2. (6) In Ezek. xx. 12, 13. (7) In "P": Gen. ii. 1-3; Exod. xx. 10, 11; xxxi. 12-17; xxxv. 1-3; Lev. xxiii. 3; Num. xv. 32-36; Exod. xvi. 5, 22-30. (8) In post-exilic observance: Neh. xiii. 15-22; Isa. lvi. 2, 4, 6; lviii. 13, f.; lxvi. 23. Lecture VII THE EFFECT OF THE EXILE In the year 597 B.C., a catastrophe long foretold befell the Kingdom of Judah. Nebuchadrezzar invaded the land, took Jerusalem, and robbing the land of every person of importance or usefulness, transported them together with King Jehoiachin to Babylon, hoping doubtless to prevent any further trouble with Judæa. In what a conflict of emotion must the exiles have left that city which they had fondly imagined inviolable! for even in Babylon they continued to believe that so long as Jerusalem stood, Jehovah would have a citadel, and the holy city would remain a symbolic witness to their unconquered religion. With the captives there went a young man who was destined to leave a deep impression upon the future of his nation--the priest Ezekiel. Arrived in Babylon, he felt himself called to a prophetic ministry to the exiles, and his first message was directed to the crushing of their remaining hopes; for with dramatic symbolism he predicted that Jerusalem would be utterly destroyed. The suicidal policy of Zedekiah, whom Nebuchadrezzar had left to carry on the government as his vassal, soon fulfilled this prophecy; for sedition and intrigue soon compelled Nebuchadrezzar to adopt still stricter measures. He again marched into Judæa and besieged Jerusalem. This time the Jews expected no mercy, and resisted with such tenacity that the siege lasted for nearly two years. On the ninth day of the Fourth month, (our July) 586 B.C., a day still kept with solemn fasting by the Jews, a breach was made in the walls and the city capitulated. A month later the entire destruction of the city and Temple was ruthlessly carried out, and the whole population, with the exception of a few husbandmen, was deported to swell the company of exiles now at Babylon. This was the inevitable culmination of the policy of the Kingdom of Judah under her latest monarchs. The position of their land laid them open to conflicts with the powers of Assyria and Babylon. The wise and peaceful policy of Solomon had been departed from, and indeed rendered impossible by the disruption of the Tribes. A period of national decadence seems to have followed, in which luxury and corruption undermined all political sanity, and both rulers and people became blind to the dangers that threatened. Such religion as existed, only expressed itself in bursts of fanaticism, and filled the people with the fatal idea that Jehovah would never suffer the Temple to be violated or the holy city to be taken. The disaster of the Exile is charged by the Prophets to the unrepented sins of the nation, and while this is a religious interpretation it is not unsupported by a review of the history. The people had set their hearts upon a glorious kingdom of material prosperity, presided over and protected by a mighty national deity; the Prophets wanted a kingdom of righteousness, which would reflect the character of Jehovah and be a witness to the nations of His reality and power. While they saw in the Exile a calamity which meant the destruction of the nation, and an evidence that Jehovah had broken His covenant because of disobedience, they clung to the belief that the end for which Jehovah had chosen Israel might still be attained. That nation might be destroyed, yet from its ruins there would arise a Kingdom of God; a remnant would return, weaned from a false religion, to work out a new ideal of holiness and service. The period which follows is one of great obscurity and the records which are actually dated from this time are scanty. Literary criticism however throws great light on this period because it believes that it is from the Exile that we are to date many institutions and writings that have been referred to a previous age. This may seem at first sight a desperate device, since so little is known of the actual conditions; and yet unfettered investigation can arrive at no other conclusion, the exilic stamp being often unmistakable and even showing itself in geographical outlook (1 Kings iv. 24). If we take the Bible as it stands, it presents us with the story of an early legislation given by Moses, neglected however by the entire people, including the Reformers and Prophets, until it suddenly appears after the Exile as the acknowledged code for the regulation of religion and common life. It would be quite possible to conceive that the shock of the Exile drove the Jews to examine the details of the neglected covenant of Jehovah and to restore the authority of the Law of Moses. Such however is impossible, not only from that fact that there is no mention of the Law of Moses in the records that can be dated between the Conquest of Canaan and the Exile, but that in this period we can discern customs and ideas _gradually_ growing up that find their full and final embodiment in the Pentateuch as we now possess it. From the lawless condition of the Judges and the early monarchy, we advance to the teaching of the Prophets. It is Isaiah who contributes the ideas which lie at the basis of the Deuteronomic Code, and the time of Josiah is the first to show the influence of that code. Ezekiel is the first to show any trace of the ideas which we find embodied in Leviticus, but these, as we shall see, have to be explained as anticipations of, rather than as an acquaintance with, the finished Levitical Code. When we consider what effect the Exile would have upon the more thoughtful of the Jews, we can imagine that conscience would be shocked into activity, and a new interest would be taken in their strange history, especially in its prophetic interpretation. It is common in history to find that repentance rarely goes so deep as to grasp the inner meaning of its discovered sin, but is apt to content itself with somewhat superficial methods of showing its sincerity and securing future compliance with religion. So at least, the records of Israel's history assure us, happened in this instance, and one of the resolutions of their penitence took concrete form in the writing or editing of their history so that it should be a warning to the future, and in codifying customs and drawing up regulations which should make apostasy for ever impossible. Many references in the ancient records or in the oral tradition which savoured of idolatry or of a too anthropomorphic conception of God were corrected, as those references, the tendency of which was not detected, have remained to bear witness; and the whole history was fitted somewhat clumsily into a mechanical scheme, which was rather what they thought ought to have happened than what really did happen. One example of this may be seen in the condemnation which is naïvely passed on king after king because he had allowed sacrifice to be made at the high places; the fact being that this was not made illegitimate until the reign of Josiah. In this way external offences were marked and abandoned, while the deeper incongruity between the national religion and the teaching of the Prophets was missed. If we seek in this period for the rise of ideas which shall bridge over the change from the popular religion on the one hand, and the religion of Jeremiah on the other, to the complete unity of the national religion under Nehemiah and Ezra, we shall find a most important link in the Book of Ezekiel. The Book of Ezekiel is said to be the least read book in the Bible, yet its author plays a most important part in the history of Israel's religion, and to grasp the position which he occupies is to have a focus point from which the whole development may be conveniently grasped. The Prophet probably got a better hearing from his contemporaries than any of his predecessors. He accompanied the body of captives who left Jerusalem for Babylon in the year 597, and his works date from soon after that year and go down to about 570. The men to whom he was called to speak were therefore his fellow captives, and he had not to look far for a text for his sermons. His hearers were in Babylon for their sins, and they knew it. His style of preaching is difficult, and his method of embodying his message in visions marks a new phenomenon in Israel's religion. He states truth in strange and fanciful figures, a method which was to form an example for the later works of Judaism, and if we detect in Ezekiel a return to the extravagance of the earlier prophecy, we must make allowance for the tragic times in which he lived; especially must we do this where we trace a falling off from his predecessors in moral insight and in the ritualistic influence which his work undoubtedly left behind him. Ezekiel continues the work of the pre-exilic Prophets in that he proclaims their characteristic doctrines, and naturally he shows distinct traces of the influence of Jeremiah. What is new, is that he gives to those doctrines a more fixed and somewhat pedantic form, and a greater self-consciousness is discernible; the prophecies are accurately arranged, and the language is marked by precision; rhetoric is less frequent, and the prophecies look more fit for reading than for delivery. The idea of God is the same as in the earlier Prophets, but in Ezekiel it is elevated and rarified; especially is great emphasis laid upon the attribute of holiness, which is however a ceremonial rather than a purely ethical conception. The characteristic idea of the Prophets, that Jehovah chose Israel not for their own sakes, becomes the idea that Jehovah did this for His own sake alone, and this is so often repeated that it almost looks like arbitrariness. The cause of Judah's punishment is still traced to the sin of the people, but that sin is now definitely determined to be idolatry; and this is insisted on almost to the exclusion of the social and ethical wrongs assailed by the earlier Prophets. While, however, Ezekiel enforces the bitter lessons of the Exile, he carefully distinguishes the true interpretation of that disaster from that which rose readily to the popular mind. He disposes of the conception that the Captivity was due to the inability of Jehovah to defend His own land (xxxvi. 20); it was a punishment for sin (xxxix. 23), and in His own time He will prove this by restoring them to their land again (xxxix. 25). Neither will he allow them to rest in the flattering thought that they were only suffering for the unvisited sins of a former generation; he insists, probably with greater rigour than experience would sanction, that each man bears his own sin, and never suffers for the sins of others. But to those who admit the justice of his charges, and who therefore regard the future as hopeless, he preaches a tender doctrine of forgiveness and the possibility of cleansing from sin. From the events of his times, he seeks to draw lessons which should redeem the mistakes that had been made in the past: the teaching of the Prophets must be kept before the people in definite rules and religious ceremonies. Old customs, whose original significance had long been forgotten, were invested with new interpretations worthy of the true religion of Jehovah, and were made not only customs, but religious commands. In the book which bears his name, and especially in chapters xl.-xlviii., he outlines a policy in which the whole of national life is comprehended in its religious significance, and thus the calamity of future apostasy prevented. The new State is to centre round the idea of worship: the Temple with its services and appointments is to be the expression of the national life. Now in this scheme there is little doubt that we have the beginning of the Levitical system, for Ezekiel is related to Leviticus as the rough sketch to the finished plan. If Leviticus in its present form existed in Ezekiel's time, then the work of the Prophet was not only entirely unnecessary, but careless and presumptuous. Some of the facts which point to the priority of Ezekiel to the Levitical Code may be noticed. In the Levitical Code we find that a distinction is made between priests and Levites. This is not found in Deuteronomy (xvii. 9, 18; xviii. 1) but is first found in Ezekiel (xliv. 10-15), where it is explained to be due to the degradation of the Levites as a punishment for leading the people into idolatry; in Leviticus we reach the final stage, where the distinction is accepted without explanation. In Ezekiel we have no mention of the high-priest or of the Day of Atonement, both of which figure so largely in the Priest's Code, although we can find _foreshadowings_ of the Day of Atonement (Ezek. xlv. 18-20). Indeed we meet with no mention of the Day of Atonement, apart from the Priestly Code, until Zechariah (vii. 5; viii. 19). The general conclusion may be safely drawn, that during and after the Exile, Ezekiel's ideas were stiffened and developed into the full legislation now preserved for us in Leviticus. We may rightly claim Ezekiel to be the founder of Judaism, with its transcendent conception of Jehovah and its great attention to ceremonial detail, and we are bound therefore to recognise in Ezekiel a falling off from the ideals of the pre-exilic Prophets; he is a prophet in priest's clothing. Yet it may be questioned whether the idealistic teaching of the Prophets could have been preserved through the periods of the Exile and the Restoration, without this formal process. An outer husk of formality had to develop in order that the living kernel might be protected during the critical years when Persia, Greece, and Rome were to press their alien ideas upon this people. It has been well for the world that Ezekiel clothed the Prophets' teaching in the resisting garments of Judaism. The Exile could not fail to leave upon the Jewish nation an imperishable mark, and they emerged from that trial a different people. It was a shock that brought a repentance the Prophets had often laboured for in vain, and this repentance was marked by the initiation of many new movements in thought, and by a more stringent and solemn observance of their peculiar institutions. Probably in that alien land many of the Jews adopted the customs of their conquerors, since it is estimated that not more than a small fraction returned to Palestine. This defection would impress upon those who remained faithful the necessity for a strict policy of separation, and from this time certain institutions which had been inherited from ancient Semitic practice received a new meaning. Chief among these may be noticed the observance of the Sabbath, and the rite of circumcision. The observance of a certain day as sacred to the gods is a custom that is found in nearly all early religions, and there are traces of such an observance in the Babylonian religion. We do not find however in the historical books of the Bible that mention of the Sabbath which would be expected, if it was observed with the strictness common after the Exile. There are traces of an observance, not strictly defined, save that it is in association with the new moon feasts, and is combined with social relaxation (2 Kings iv. 22, 23; Hosea ii. 11; Amos viii. 5; Isa. i. 13). Even before the Exile however a more religious conception had arisen (Jer. xvii. 19-27), and is even then referred to as an earlier command. The change after the Exile was towards an ever increasing strictness (Isa. lvi. 2, 4, 6; lviii. 13; lxvi. 23; Neh. xiii. 15-22). The rite of circumcision was by no means peculiar to the Jewish religion (Jer. ix. 25, 26), except perhaps in so far as it was performed in infancy: its origin and growth are very obscure. Its original significance was early lost and its interpretation was probably due to the Prophets themselves, who often referred to a spiritual circumcision, and thus made possible the full ceremonial interpretation which became so important a feature in later Judaism. We have seen that there is evidence to prove that the religion of Israel had not always been averse to the use of idols as part of the legitimate worship of Jehovah. The Prophets began the protest against this, not so much because of its principles, but because of the immoral practices with which idol worship was connected. But after the Exile, idolatry was for ever separated from the worship of Jehovah, and in the later Prophets idolatry becomes the target for their most scornful invective. It has been suggested that this new abhorrence accounts for the non-return of the Ark, which in this period disappears from history. Among the most important of the new institutions that can be traced back to the period of the Exile is the founding of the Synagogue. In the land of Exile, away from the one spot where sacrifice was permitted, worship had to be carried on without the aid of sacrificial or ceremonial rites, but there was nothing to prevent the people from gathering together for prayer or to hear read their newly reverenced prophetic books. It is quite possible that this led to a collection of the Prophets' writings being made, and perhaps to some editing to meet their present needs. This movement was of profound importance for the future development of religion, for it was in the Synagogue rather than in the Temple that Christianity was to find the readiest medium for its dissemination and the earliest model for its worship. The Synagogue itself prepared the way for the more spiritual developments within Judaism, for away from the Temple sacrifices and their always dangerous suggestions men learned that the sacrifice of the broken heart was more acceptable to Jehovah; and so the way was prepared for that magnificent collection of prayers and songs which we call the Psalms, which were afterwards to be used as an accompaniment to a form of worship that they frequently condemn. The external and legal conceptions were, however, to be the most visible results gained from the Exile, and they were to mould religion for many a year. The materials for an exact history of the return from Exile do not exist in our Bibles; the accounts found in Ezra and Nehemiah raise questions which have not yet been satisfactorily answered. The Prophets who had foretold the destruction of the kingdom of Judah had never been able to rest in the thought that this was the final chapter in Jehovah's dealings with His people, and their faith forced them to peer through this impending disaster and dimly discern a purpose yet to be disclosed. This is often pictured in merely general terms, but in Jeremiah and Ezekiel these hopes issued in the definite prophecy of the restoration of the Jews to their own land within a certain period. When political changes brought this on the horizon of possibility, the times wakened the "voice of one crying in the wilderness," in some respects the most wonderful of all that noble band we have been studying. The name of this herald has not been preserved, but he is known to criticism as the Second Isaiah. This does not of course mean that he bore that name, but it is a convenient designation for the writings that occupy the second half of the work included under the name of Isaiah. The separation of chapters xl.-lxvi. from those which precede, as from different hands, is one of the most universally accepted results of criticism. The preceding chapters end with a historic survey of events that happened in the lifetime of the great Isaiah of Jerusalem, and then suddenly the whole outlook and atmosphere change. Critics claim that the test of language and style is itself decisive, but while this must remain a question on which only Hebrew experts are qualified to pronounce, the difference of theological ideas, and the change of situation cannot be missed by any attentive English reader. Indeed that the situation has changed is a fact which has never been challenged. From chapter xl., the audience addressed consists no longer of the proud and scornful peoples of the time of Hezekiah, but of penitent captives far from their native land some 150 years later; the accepted explanation used to be that Isaiah transported himself to this later time by a miracle of prophetic inspiration. But there is really only one adducible reason for attributing this prophecy to Isaiah: it is bound up with the book that bears his name as the title. This reason is of little value when we admit our ignorance of the method by which the Old Testament was finally edited, and when the internal evidence entirely contradicts the traditional theory. For it must be borne in mind that the explanation that this is due to a prophetic transportation is only a hypothesis framed to fit the conditions, and has no claim to acceptance if there can be found one that does equal justice to the facts without appealing to such an unusual method. Moreover, the hypothesis of prediction does not fit the facts, for while some parts of the prophecy have predictive form, others have not. For instance, the picture of Cyrus and his conquests, complete even to the name of the hero, is not only presented as if he were on the stage of actual history, but his appearance is adduced as a convincing evidence of the fulfilment of prophecy. What fulfilment would it be if Cyrus was yet a figure of the unknown future? If it is claimed that this presentation is due to what is known to Hebrew grammarians as a use of the _prophetic present tense_, in which things future in fact, are stated as present, owing to the vividness of the prophetic consciousness, then we must ask why it is that Cyrus is presented as a figure of contemporary history, while the fall of Babylon is still spoken of as future. This distinction would be meaningless if the whole of this period was seen from some anterior time. The "settled results" of criticism were greatly ridiculed when further investigation pronounced that only chapters xl.-lv. can have come from this great Prophet, and that the remainder of the book is of a composite character, extending at least to the time of the Second Temple. To have to bring in a third author, or even more, to explain this book is quoted as an example of the foolishness of criticism. Now the critics _may_ be wrong, but their theories are simply endeavours to understand these prophecies by setting them in their exact historical surroundings. Surely this is a task worthy of any reverent student of the Old Testament, and if it brings, as many believe, wonderful light on these messages, and thus sets free their eternal significance, then these men should earn gratitude rather than ridicule, when the difficulty of their task calls for a continual rearrangement and a finer adjustment. The critical reconstruction of this prophecy therefore places chapters xl.-lv. among the scenes it depicts, and in the very history whose movements called it forth. The exact conditions can be discerned. After the death of Nebuchadrezzar the kingdom of the Chaldæans began to decline, and when Cyrus succeeded to the throne of Persia its fate was determined. His victorious campaigns, culminating in the fall of Sardis in B.C. 547, could not fail to reach the ears of the exiles in Babylon, and many a whisper of hope must have been exchanged, and many a prophecy handed on. Babylon itself fell before the conqueror in 538 and between these two dates, and perhaps nearer to the latter, the internal witness of the prophecy demands that it should be placed. When we turn to examine the work of this unknown messenger we cannot help noticing the difference in style, which even the translation cannot obscure. The great Isaiah writes in terse, closely-packed sentences, with all the authoritative manner customary with the Prophets. This writer, on the other hand, is rhetorical, and loves to dwell on his favourite ideas. The sharp word of the prophetic deliverance here gives way to a reasoning exposition and a pleading tenderness that makes this prophecy a Gospel before the Gospels. The distinctive religious ideas can be easily marked. Absolute Monotheism is insisted on with a fulness and repetition which shows that it is in some degree a new truth. There is none beside Jehovah; He is alone, unique; and description is exhausted in the endeavour to picture His glory and power. He is now constantly referred to as the Creator of the world, the framer of the stars on high, the maker of both darkness and light, both good and evil; so that no room is left for the dualism that the Prophet may have learned to despise in the Babylonian religion. His finest scorn is reserved for the conception that an idol can have any claim to divinity. He depicts the process of their manufacture, their utter helplessness; it may be that he had seen them borne in to the capital as the suburbs fell before the invader. Universalism struggles for expression in this writer, but it is not always so clear and definite as in the writings of the great Isaiah. This arises however, not so much from the racial prejudices that have so clogged the Hebrew mind, as from a reading of Israel's history which the prophet was well entitled to make, namely, that she was to be the premier nation in the instruction of the world in righteousness and the knowledge of God, the priest-nation of humanity. This conception of the nation's history and destiny is embodied in a personification known as the Servant of Jehovah. Israel has been chosen as the Servant so that the light may be brought to the nations. In this mission the Servant meets with persecution, yet turns not back from those who pluck off the hair nor hides his face from shame and spitting. The slightest retrospect of Israel's history shows that the Servant of Jehovah was trained for his task only through suffering. Israel had suffered for her sins of presumption and disobedience; but were the nations who punished her any more righteous? Moreover, many of those who sat down by the waters of Babylon and wept when they remembered Zion must have been pious and righteous, and innocent of the causes of their nation's calamities. As the prophet broods over the meaning of the Exile, as it affected the godly remnant, he begins to see that this suffering, undeserved though it might be in particular cases, would become a supreme lesson in righteousness to the world. This assumption is embodied in the astonishing drama of the suffering Servant; one who suffers from a disfiguring disease, which marks him out to all beholders as the afflicted of Jehovah, and who is therefore despised and rejected of men. But the day comes when the idea slowly dawns upon men that this servant-nation suffered for the sake of the world, bore the consciousness of sin when other nations lived in carelessness and flourished on cruelty. The Prophet believed that this patient suffering would be an awakening force and would be the means of bringing the world to the knowledge of God. It is a marvellous reading of Israel's history; but it is true, for that little nation despised and rejected by Empires, battered by the armed forces which surrounded her, has made the whole world her debtor. But indirectly this interpretation is a revelation of the meaning of all history, and especially of that strange law of vicarious suffering which binds all the world one and makes every new age in debt to the past. This unknown writer has contributed one of the most fruitful ideas to the philosophy of history. It is not surprising that most early commentators have tried to read in the 53rd chapter a picture, not of a nation, but of some definite person; although the Prophet definitely identifies the Servant of the Lord with Israel (Isa. xli. 8). But when did Israel embody such a conception? It can only stand for an ideal of what Israel ought to have been; and there have been many things which have entered into the composition of the picture. It has been suggested that one of the Prophets sat for this picture, just as sometimes an artist painting a symbolical picture will get one of his friends to sit for the model; and who could be better for this purpose than Jeremiah, the rejected of the nation? The interpretation that finds in this picture a minute prediction of the life and passion of Jesus is not sanctioned by a careful study of the passage; but the instinct that has led to this is right in the main, for as we travel down the ages looking for the fulfilment of this ideal, we only rest with complete satisfaction on the story of the life and death of One who stepping out from this very race, by His uninterrupted communion with God, His hatred of sin and His profound sympathy with mankind, bore away the sin of the world on the red flood of sacrifice, and brought in for ever the true Kingdom of God. An increasing number of Old Testament scholars believe that another of the Prophets contains an interpretation of the Exile, conceived in the same spirit as that of the Second Isaiah, although veiled under such a strange allegorical form that centuries of Jewish and Christian interpretation have entirely missed its meaning. The book of the Prophet Jonah belongs to a later age, and should probably stand last of all the Minor Prophets, but the critical interpretation of the prophecy falls naturally to be considered here. The character of the Book reveals on close inspection that it was never intended for history; as its inclusion among the prophetical writings perhaps recognises. It is not only the improbability of the whale episode that has led to this conclusion, but the whole character of the events narrated: the sudden growth and withering of the gourd, the instant repentance of the Ninevites, which included a forced régime of fasting even for the cattle! Moreover, the closing words of the book breathe a spirit of universalism and humanity that is almost the high-water mark of Old Testament inspiration, and this encourages the reader to look for some deeper meaning in the rest of the book. The story as interpreted by critical methods is that Jonah is the nation of Israel, chosen to be a missionary nation to the heathen. On refusing the task which Divine selection had marked out for her she is thrown into exile, and has been restored for the purpose of carrying out her original mission. This is here symbolised by the whale swallowing Jonah, who on being cast up proceeded on his neglected commission, though still with little love for his work. The imagery is crude and may strike the reader as exceedingly improbable, until his attention is drawn to the fact that the whale or sea-monster plays a great part in Old Testament imagery and is once actually used as a symbol of the Exile. "Nebuchadrezzar the King of Babylon hath devoured me, ... he hath swallowed me up like a dragon, ... he hath cast me out.... I will do judgment upon Bel in Babylon, and I will bring out of his mouth that which he hath swallowed up" (Jer. li. 34, 44). With this interpretation as a clue, the book becomes luminous. It is an apology for the Gentiles who are shown to be capable of repentance; Israel is blamed for her grudging estimate of the heathen, for her refusal to convey to them the light which she enjoyed, and for her fear lest others should share the favour of Jehovah. Perhaps the symbolic character of the book was adopted, because the author knew that if such truths were boldly stated they would never be received by his age; and so he hoped that the truth might enter in through an interesting story of wonder and adventure. It can hardly be claimed that the author has been successful; for the Jews resisted the universalism of the Son of Man and the propagandist methods of the Apostle Paul, while Christendom has been far more concerned in proving that a whale can swallow a man, than in carrying out the command to evangelise those who know not their right hand from their left. THE WORK OF THE PRIESTS The following passage (Exod. vii. 14-25) illustrates the attempt to disintegrate the various documents ("J" is indicated by roman type, "E" by _italics_, and "P" by CAPITALS). "And Yahwe said unto Moses, Pharaoh's heart is stubborn, he refuseth to let the people go. _Get thee unto Pharaoh in the morning; lo, he goeth out unto the water; and thou shalt stand by the river's brink to meet him; and the rod which was turned to a serpent shalt thou take into thine hand._ And thou shalt say unto him, Yahwe, the God of the Hebrews, hath sent me unto thee, saying, Let my people go, that they may serve me in the wilderness: and, behold, hitherto thou hast not hearkened. Thus saith Yahwe, in this thou shalt know that I am Yahwe: behold, I will smite ... _with the rod that is in mine hand upon the waters which are in the river, and they shall be turned to blood_. And the fish that is in the river shall die, and the river shall stink; and the Egyptians shall loathe to drink water from the river. AND YAHWE SAID UNTO MOSES, SAY UNTO AARON, TAKE THY ROD, AND STRETCH OUT THINE HAND OVER THE WATERS OF EGYPT, OVER THEIR RIVERS, OVER THEIR STREAMS, AND OVER THEIR POOLS, AND OVER ALL THEIR PONDS OF WATER, THAT THEY MAY BECOME BLOOD; AND THERE SHALL BE BLOOD THROUGHOUT ALL THE LAND OF EGYPT, BOTH IN VESSELS OF WOOD AND IN VESSELS OF STONE. AND MOSES AND AARON DID SO, AS YAHWE COMMANDED; _and he lifted up the rod, and smote the waters that were in the river; in the sight of Pharaoh, and in the sight of his servants; and all the waters that were in the river were turned to blood_. And the fish that was in the River died; and the river stank, and the Egyptians could not drink water from the river; AND THE BLOOD WAS THROUGHOUT ALL THE LAND OF EGYPT. AND THE MAGICIANS OF EGYPT DID IN LIKE MANNER WITH THEIR ENCHANTMENTS: AND PHARAOH'S HEART WAS HARDENED, AND HE HEARKENED NOT UNTO THEM; AS YAHWE HAD SPOKEN. _And Pharaoh turned and went into his house, neither did he lay even this to heart._ And all the Egyptians digged round about the river for water to drink; for they could not drink of the water of the river. And seven days were fulfilled, after that Yahwe had smitten the river." Notes:--The account in "J" evidently had nothing about the water being turned into blood. Yahwe himself will smite the river (_Ye' or_; the Nile) so that the fish will die. "The river" probably stood after "smite ..." in "J." In "E" Moses is commanded to smite with his rod, and the Nile will be turned into blood. In verse 17 _thine_ must have stood in the original and was altered to "mine" when the documents were pieced together. In "P" Aaron is to take the rod, and now all the rivers of Egypt, and even the water in the houses, is to be turned into blood. Notice the formal repetition in "P." Lecture VIII THE WORK OF THE PRIESTS We have seen that the Exile produced two important prophetical works. The one is a vision of a restored Jewish state, contemplated under the guise of a Church rather than as a Nation; the work of the priestly Prophet Ezekiel. The other is incorporated in the second half of the prophecies ascribed to Isaiah; the author is unknown, but the work is an attempt to interpret the calamitous history of the Exile in such a fashion that the nation might be led to take as its ideal for the future, the Servant of Jehovah, the bearer of light to the nations of the world. The outlook in these two works is entirely different, yet both seem to have called forth a school which endeavoured to work out their ideals, but the school of Ezekiel obtained a more immediate recognition and exerted the greater influence on the nation. For the first time in Israel's history a prophet is found who is concerned with matters of ritual, the regulation of a priesthood, and the details of ecclesiasticism. Ezekiel endeavoured to secure the reforms demanded by the Prophets, not only by the effect of his own preaching, but by the formation of definite organisations and the establishment of certain customs. The priestly school which followed Ezekiel and developed his conceptions, possessed sufficient prestige to persuade the nation that their scheme was of Divine authority. Their work was carried on during and after the Exile, but with the exception of Ezra, the names of the authors have not been preserved. In the Bible history their work suddenly appears under the name of "the law of Moses" in 444 B.C. The first certain mention of the recognition and observance of this law is found in Nehemiah (viii.), where a memorable scene is described. Ezra the Scribe, "the writer of the words of the commandments of the Lord and of his statutes to Israel" (Ezra vii. 11), has come from Babylon, bringing with him the law of Moses. The people are gathered together on a certain day, and from morning to noon, the law is read in their hearing, with such comments and explanations as seemed necessary. The immediate result of this publication was the discovery that important provisions had been neglected and commands very seriously transgressed, and there followed such grief and alarm among those who listened, that it was difficult for the authorities to persuade the people to abandon their mourning and rejoice in the fact that the law had now been made known to them. On the morrow a further reading took place, when they discovered that on that very day they ought to be keeping a feast of tabernacles. The feast was therefore observed for the appointed time of eight days, and it is expressly noted that this had not been done since the time of Joshua. Other reforms were immediately set in motion; marriage with those not of pure Jewish blood was not only forbidden but, where such had actually been contracted, an immediate dissolution was enforced; a tax of one third of a shekel was levied for the upkeep of the Temple Services, and the law of the Sabbath was rigorously enforced. Now this picture was not written by a contemporary, and critics have found such difficulty in discovering the exact historical facts that considerable doubt has been aroused, not only concerning the historicity of this event, but even concerning the existence of Ezra himself. But it is certain that in the Fifth Century B.C., laws were obeyed and institutions were recognised, of which we have no record, outside the Pentateuch, in the earlier historical books. The question to be answered is: What was that "law of Moses" which Ezra brought to Jerusalem and read to the people? Later Judaism calls the first five books of the Bible "the Law of Moses," and for centuries both Jewish and Christian scholars have identified Ezra's law with these books, have supposed that they existed from the time of Moses downwards, but were entirely neglected by the Jews until this time. Modern research is compelled to dissent altogether from this tradition. Our purpose in this book prevents us from discussing the details of this controversy, but in addition to what has been already said in an earlier lecture, the main results of critical study on the origin of the Law may be outlined. From the time occupied by Ezra in reading his law it is inferred that it could hardly have been our first five books of the Bible; and since to carry out the laws contained in them would involve endless discussion because of their contradictory character (compare for example the directions for keeping the feast of Tabernacles in Deut. xvi. 13, 15, which commands seven days, with Lev. xxiii. 39, which adds an eighth day for a solemn assembly; compare also the account in 1 Kings viii. 66, with 2 Chron. vii. 8, 10), it is thought that this law of Ezra must have been much smaller than the Pentateuch, and much more homogeneous. The Pentateuch not only contains more than "laws," but even the legal sections bear the marks of such widely different aims and conditions that we are compelled to assume a gradual collection, with continual redaction and codification, in order to account for the various phenomena. The earliest strata may go back to a great antiquity, and the customs themselves must often be primitive Semitic survivals, but the critical contention is that, as a whole, the "Law of Moses" owes its present form to an age later than the Exile, and somewhat later than Ezra himself; for Ezra's code has itself been revised (compare Neh. x. 32, where a third of a shekel is appointed, with Exod. xxx. 13, where it has increased to half a shekel), before it was amalgamated with the Pentateuch in its existing form. The critical basis for this theory of the gradual formation of the law is found first in the fact that the legislation of the Pentateuch is not homogeneous: it is so contradictory that to carry out the law as it stands would be found impossible. It is claimed that the presence of the various strata can be detected by the numerous repetitions (_e.g._, the commandments exist in three recensions: Exod. xx. 1-17; xxxiv. 17-28; Deut. v. 6-21); by the use of different names for God, by the difference in language and style, and by the change in theological conceptions; and moreover, that these different strata can be roughly assigned to various ages, which can be actually confirmed by the record of their observance in the historical books (compare the provisions made for the Ark in Exod. xxv.-xl.; Num. iii.-iv., with its actual treatment in 1 Sam.). The different strata of the laws, and the ages to which they may be roughly assigned, are as follows:--The earliest code of laws is said to be that of the "Book of the Covenant" (Exod. xxiv. 7), found in Exod. xx. 20-xxiii. 33. The primitive character of this code can be discerned, by the comparison of its directions for worship with those of later ages. It sanctioned the erection of rude altars at any place where Jehovah had been revealed, whereas in later codes no place except the one chosen spot can be used for worship, and the altar must be of highly specialised construction (compare Exod. xx. 24-26 and Deut. xii. 4-24, with Exod. xxvii. 1-8). Now it is precisely this informal worship, which could be performed by any one and at any place, that appears to have been the custom until the time of the reformation under Josiah; and in his times, and as the cause of his reform, the critics place the Book of Deuteronomy, v.-xxvi.; for it presupposes the teaching of the prophets and is the programme followed by Josiah. Then next follows "the Law of Holiness" (Lev. xvii.-xxvi.); which is either the outcome of Ezekiel's work or is shortly prior to it; anyhow, the connection is close. Then in 444 B.C. appears the code of Ezra, which was afterwards developed and set in a brief narrative describing the historical preparation for the law and its actual deliverance by Moses; this document of history and laws is known for convenience as the Priestly Code, and is denoted by the letter "P." The editorial framework of the completed Hexateuch (the first six books of the Bible), is of the same stamp as the Priests' Code, and the date of its final compilation must not be put very much later than Ezra, since the Samaritan Pentateuch probably goes back to the Fourth Century, from which date it can claim an independent existence. It is this work of the Priests that we are now to examine. "P" is to be found at present scattered throughout the Hexateuch, and embraces nearly the whole of Leviticus, Numbers and a good portion of Exodus; is found in many scattered passages in Genesis and in a small portion of Joshua and Judges, especially, in the latter case, in the closing chapters; there is only a very little in Deuteronomy. Although not the work of one hand, these passages can be detected by their unity of motive, the uniform phraseology, the priestly outlook, and their concern with legal and ritualistic regulations. The style is stereotyped, measured, and prosaic, and is rendered somewhat monotonous by the repetition of stated formulae. The theological ideas are dominated by the thought of the awful holiness of God and the danger that there lies in approaching Him in any other than the ordained way. What were the sources from which this code drew its material? It is not suggested that the code was simply _invented_ during the Exile. Many of the legal commands concerning uncleanness, leprosy, and marriage are really ancient customs, and only owed their _codification_ to this late age; for they reflect a low stage of culture, and their rites of purification are primitive. Again sacrifice had been performed as far back as Semitic history can be traced, and customs which had persisted were now simply tabulated and their form fixed. Many of the sacrificial rites prescribed in the code still bear the marks of their early origin, especially in the case of the burnt and the peace-offerings, but the law of the sin-offering shows artificial elaboration. Undoubtedly when Solomon's Temple was built a new sacrificial ritual would be developed more in keeping with the splendour of the edifice, and as the Temple increased in prestige, and when under Isaiah's influence it became the one spot at which sacrifice could be performed, the priestly caste would keep the rite in their own hands and perform it with more care; and all this would become the basis for a new ritualistic legislation. The minuteness of the Priestly Code often gives the impression of a record of exact history, but a careful examination of such measurements as are given in the case of the Ark or the Tabernacle do not confirm the historical accuracy; for the Tabernacle cannot be made exactly as described, and if it could be, would neither stand up, nor be suitable for the purpose for which it was intended, nor be able to be transported through the desert. It is simply a tent-like model of the Temple projected into the early history on the theory that the worship which existed in the writer's time was that which had always existed. The artificial conception of the history which "P" follows can of course be seen, if we separate the various strata of the first six books in the Bible, but it can be seen without this difficult and controversial method by comparing the history of Kings with Chronicles: the one written largely before and the other entirely after the legislation of "P" had been accepted. The law of the Day of Atonement is almost entirely late, and originated in the deepened sense of guilt produced during the Exile; neither is there any trace of its observance until that time. A difficult question has arisen concerning the date of this legislation since the discovery of the Code of Hammurabi. Hammurabi was a Babylonian king who lived somewhere about 2,250 B.C., and who has been identified by some with the Amraphael of Gen. xiv. His code reveals a fairly advanced stage of civilisation and morality existing in Babylon at that time, but its chief interest for us is found in the fact that many of the laws concerning common life, marriage, etc., are not only like the laws of the Bible, but in some cases are verbally similar. This phenomenon demands some theory of contact between the two codes, but no theory has yet been found that explains all the facts. The idea of direct borrowing on either side can hardly be taken seriously, and the correspondence between the two codes hardly requires that; so that the question is narrowed to one of influence. This influence would seem to be most natural in the time of the Exile, were it not that the strictly exclusive spirit then developed by the Jews makes it unthinkable. There remains either the explanation of a common basis for the two codes, traceable to their Semitic origin, or what has received the greater support from scholars, the idea that the influence of Hammurabi's laws on Israel's legislation is to be traced through the former inhabitants of Canaan. To understand how this is possible, we must remember that it is now known that Babylon had predominating influence over Western Palestine before the conquest of Canaan by the Hebrews; that the inhabitants of the land were much more civilised than their conquerors; and that the invaders did not exterminate the inhabitants, but quietly effected a settlement among them and adopted many of their customs. While on the subject of the influence of Babylon it will be convenient to notice here that this influence is not confined to legal matters, but can be traced in certain legendary elements in the Old Testament. The ideal of the Priests' Code would not tolerate heathen mythology that could be detected as such, to appear in its work, and yet there are definite traces of such mythology to be found in "P"s account of the creation in Gen. i. The discovery of the libraries of Assurbanipal has brought to light records of a mythological cosmogony which, while utterly different in conception and spirit from Genesis, is sufficiently similar to suggest some degree of connection. This Babylonian Epic of creation deals not so much with the remarkably scientific idea of a gradual creation of our earth out of chaotic materials, but with a conflict of gods and monsters which is supposed to have taken place before the creation. In the opening verses of the Bible there is a reference to the partition of the deep, which is here called by the non-Hebrew name _Tehom_, into two parts: the waters above and the waters under the firmament. Now in the Babylonian story the actual creation of the earth is preceded by a mighty struggle between _Marduk_, the sun-god (the Merodach of the Bible) and a great dragon symbolical of the primeval waters, which bears the name _Tiamat_, the Babylonian form of _Tehom_. The influence of this myth is the more certainly to be traced in Genesis, because it appears elsewhere in the Old Testament under the form of a legend of a conflict between Jehovah and Rahab, a mighty dragon; and this legend is generally in some way connected with creation (Job ix. 13; xxvi. 12; Isa. li. 9; Ps. lxxxix. 10). There is also a Babylonian story of the flood which keeps even closer to the Bible narrative, and it may be seen from the Babylonian version that this is more probably another form of the dragon myth than a common memory of a tremendous deluge. A Babylonian seal cylinder in the British Museum bears the picture of a man and woman standing one on each side of a sacred tree, from which they are picking fruit, while a serpent coils around the tree; but no written explanation of this very suggestive picture has been discovered. These mythical stories have come down from primitive Semitic times, but we cannot fail to notice that while their ancestry is undoubtedly common, there is a tremendous difference between the stage reached under the inspiration of the Hebrew genius and the crude Polytheism of the Babylonian stories. Their connection in some way is unmistakable, but still more certain is their different ethical and religious level. The fact of the borrowing does not deny the inspiration; it rather reveals how powerful that inspiration was. To turn now to a consideration of the work of the Priests. We must doubtless concede to the workers a very lofty motive: it was nothing less than an endeavour to include the whole of the nation's life under the conception that God was dwelling among His people, and that the nation must be holy because He is holy. But in the working out of this purpose the ideal is neither secured nor maintained. The holiness of God is insisted on with much reiteration, but it is conceived of as a physical rather than a moral attribute. It is really only a conception of the unapproachability of God unless certain purely ritual and physical conditions are observed. For the enforcement of this idea the old custom of sacrifice was elaborated and strictly defined, but strangely enough, without explicit teaching as to its meaning. This is peculiar, and it seems to have remained largely unnoticed, for many Biblical expositors have adopted without inquiry the idea that the sacrifices were substitutionary, piacular, and typical of the sacrifice of Christ. The piacular meaning suggests itself at so many points that it is startling to find that it cannot be borne out by careful examination. The sacrifices are in most instances only efficacious for the forgiveness of unintentional sins, or for the atonement of ritualistic mistakes made in ignorance or through inadvertence. The ceremony of laying the hands of the offerer on the head of the intended victim, suggests that a symbolical transference of guilt is taking place, and yet only in one case is this accompanied by a confession of sins, and there the victim is not slain, but led away for Azazel. The sin-offering involved the death of the animal, but an animal was not absolutely necessary for the purpose, and flour might be substituted; and even where we have the slain animal, the idea that the animal has taken the place of the sinner seems to be excluded by the fact that its flesh is regarded as "most holy." The offerings are said to make atonement, but we are not told how this is affected unless in the passage that states that "it is the blood that maketh atonement, by reason of the life." The word translated "atonement" means simply "a covering," and of course may mean that the blood, which is symbolical of the offered life, either covers the eyes of God from beholding the sin, or covers the sinner. We are left then, either with the deduction that the exact significance of the sacrifices was not mentioned because everyone knew what it was, or that it has not been told because it was too mysterious, or that there was no definite meaning attached to them. Originally sacrifice did not bear a piacular significance, but it would be unsafe to argue from this that no substitutionary value was attached to the Levitical sacrifices by these priestly lawyers; indeed the only safe conclusion seems to be that the priests adopted these sacrifices, which were time-honoured, as the proper ritual for the approach to God, without any definite inquiry as to their meaning. But taking the Levitical system as a whole there seems to underlie it the theory of symbolical, although not piacular substitution. God owns man entirely, and that by right: his time, possessions, flocks, and lands; and demands from him the completest recognition of this ownership. Now in practice, this absolute demand can only be recognised by substitute and proxy; and so we have the recognition of God's claims by the observance of one holy day in seven, by the ransom of the first-born, by the sabbatical and jubilee years, by the tithes, and especially by the sacrifices. His dwelling in the land is symbolised by the respect paid to one symbolical holy place; and the continual service He demands is represented by the daily service carried on by the Levitical caste. But even if this be the intention of the system, it is nowhere so defined, and therefore it is not surprising to find that people soon forgot the symbolical meaning, and treated the symbol as a thing sufficient in itself; with the result, that the service of God came to be restricted to a performance of rites that had lost all significance. One explanation would soon silence any criticism of this scheme that might arise, namely, that God had so ordained that men should worship Him. But deeper still there lay a radical misconception of the very nature of God and of the service He seeks. God was conceived as inimical not so much to man's sin, as to man himself; and this danger was averted by the use of protective rites which needed to be performed with scrupulous care, lest a mistake might bring down on the worshipper immediate and awful destruction, quite irrespective of his moral condition. Doubtless the nation might be impressed by these means with the awful aloofness of God, and there must often have accompanied this some notion of the ethical character that was expressed in this separateness; but the means taken for satisfying this character and demand in the nature of God could never have had any other result than it did, namely, the conception that attention to details of ritual could be a substitute for the much more difficult service of repentance and righteousness. It is possible that we may be under-estimating the real motive of the Priests' work and its actual success in preserving religion under these forms; but the radical evil is clearly exposed when we come to the time of another calamity, that which befel the nation under Antiochus Epiphanes, when no other method of averting the anger of God seems to have been thought of, except that of increasing the rigour of this ritual law and fencing it round with still further restrictions, until it became a burden too heavy to be borne. Such a régime utterly failed to understand the teaching of Jesus and could only regard His religion as impious and lacking in all that was essential, reverential, or good, and it was "the Law" which put Jesus to death. It is much to be deplored that the Sacrifice of Christ has in turn been explained to the conscience touched to penitence and tenderness by the story of the Cross, rather by the analogy of the Old Testament sacrifices than by its complete superiority to them as based upon a different and ethical order; for the rags and tatters of the Levitical system still impede the religious life; allowing men to think that God is content with substitutes, can be placated with blood, and is more concerned with abstract regulations than with moral change. And so there still hang about religion the same inconsistencies, the same slaughter of the prophets, the same blindness to the eternal demands of personal and social righteousness. The motive of the work of the Priests may have been to enforce the prophetic repentance, but to gain this end they compromised with unspiritual ritual, and on that compromise Christ was, and is still crucified. THE RELIGION OF THE PSALMISTS Titles of the Psalms, descriptive of their contents:-- (1) Song, Heb. _Shirah._ A lyrical poem for singing. Probably the earliest title, which in some instances may have belonged to the original composition. (2) _Michtam_, perhaps, "a golden piece." The title indicates their artistic form and choice contents. They were probably all taken from a previous collection. (3) _Maschil_, a meditative poem, from a collection made perhaps in the late Persian period. (4) Psalm, Heb. _Mizmor_. The name given to a collection used for public worship, probably in the early Greek period. (5) _Shiggaion_, (Ps. vii.; also in plural, Hab. iii. 1.) Some take this to mean a wild, passionate composition, but this Psalm hardly bears that character. Perhaps we may expect a textual corruption from _Neginah_: a song accompanied with musical instruments. (6) A song of Ascents: used in the processions to the Temple. (7) A prayer. On the question of the Davidic authorship of the Psalms, the following passages should be examined; they would appear to be in hopeless disagreement with the life of David as depicted in the historical books. Ps. v. 8-10; vi. 7, f.; xii. 1-4; xvii. 9-14; xxii.; xxvii. 10, 12; xxxv. 11-21; xli. 5-9; liv. 2-6; lxii. 3, f. The Psalms which are ascribed to some definite occasion in David's life are not on the whole any more suitable to the situation, although there is generally some single phrase which probably gave rise to this identification. The great commentator Ewald, on literary grounds ascribed the following Psalms to David because of their originality and dignified spirit: Ps. iii.; iv.; vii.; viii.; xi.; xv.; xviii.; xix. 1-6; xxiv. 1-6; xxiv. 7-10; xxix.; xxxii.; lx. 6-9; lxviii. 13-18; ci.; cxliv. 12-14. Briggs would not go so far as to indicate Davidic Psalms, but would put as far back as the Early Monarchy, Ps. vii., xiii., xviii., xxiii., xxiv. b, lx. a, and cx. Lecture IX THE RELIGION OF THE PSALMISTS The principles of Biblical criticism have often been traced to a vigorous application of the theory of evolution to the growth of religious ideas. Such an application, if without the support of facts, would discredit all critical results; but as a matter of fact, the critical readjustment of the Old Testament does not give a perfect progression in religious development. Indeed, it leaves us with a perplexing story of decline from high attainment. The Law follows the Prophets, and no theory can recognise the Law as an advance upon prophetic teaching. The national rejection of the Prophets is the central tragedy of Hebrew history and prepares us for the national rejection of Jesus. Yet between the Prophets and the religion of the Gospels we are able to trace an almost continuous link in the religion of the Psalmists. This connection is somewhat obscured by the early date assigned to the Psalms by uncritical tradition, by the heterogeneous character of the collection, and by its continual redaction in the interest of the purpose to which they were adapted. In adopting this collection of religious poems for the purpose of public praise, it is more than likely that additions were made, in order that they might more fitly express the need of the time, while reverence for the writings, by the time at least, of the final edition of the work, operated to preserve the original; as may be seen, for instance, in the addition made to the fifty-first Psalm (ver. 18, 19), which in its original form condemns the very worship in which it was used. Moreover the collection is as much a prayer-book as a hymn-book, for many of the Psalms are really prayers, and five of them are actually so entitled. The book was certainly used in the Temple services, but on the whole it must have seemed more fitted for the non-sacrificial and non-ceremonial worship of the synagogue, or for the private devotions of pious men and women. However and wherever used, it must have nourished a deep personal religion and kept alive hopes to which Christianity afterwards appealed. No other single book of the Old Testament has had such an influence on Christian piety and worship. From ancient times to the present day the Psalms have been chanted, and in Churches of widely differing ritual they have been considered the only fit vehicle for Christian praise. Nothing more clearly demonstrates their proximity to the Christian view of things, although the modern spirit in Christendom is finding it increasingly difficult to express itself in the language of all the Psalms, on account of their imprecatory wishes. Perhaps still more, the predominant tone of the book, which is one of crying for deliverance from overwhelming enemies and oppression, hardly suits the safety of our times, or meets the demand for a joyful religious spirit. Many of the Psalms become real only in times of severe spiritual trial, and where there exists a deep sense of contrition; still better do they express the emotions which arise in times of national calamity or religious persecution; and most of all when men are constrained to take arms in the cause of religion and righteousness. They have never sounded so fitting as on the lips of the Reformers, Cromwell's Ironsides, or the Scottish Covenanters. And yet their great breadth of appeal, their touching of every possible note in religious experience--penitence and joy, questioning and trust, longing and satisfaction, defeat and victory,--their majestic literary form, and their poetic inspiration will preserve them for ever as sublime utterances of universal religion. But our work is not to appraise their eternal value, but to estimate their significance, influence, and position in the development of Old Testament religion; and to do this we must endeavour to trace the origin and compilation of the Psalter. The criticism of the Psalter is faced by a peculiarly difficult and complex problem, arising from the lack of historic connection, the possible obliteration by editorial redaction, and the difficulty of interpreting with certainty even those data which the text presents, and it has by no means yet reached settled conclusions; only general and tentative results can be noted here. That, however, the book is the result of a gradual process, may be seen from the presence of doublets (liii. = xiv.; lxx. = xl. 13-17; cviii. = lvii. 7-11 + lx. 5-12), and from the subscription at the end of Book II., which displays ignorance of the fact that further Psalms, ascribed to David follow. It will be more convenient to start from the final position and work backward; and that final position is undoubtedly this, that the Book of Psalms as it stands in our Bible is the hymn-book of the restored Second Temple. It is a book prepared for musical accompaniment; this may be seen from the titles still preserved at the head of many of the Psalms. These titles are of three kinds: they describe the nature of the poetic composition; they give the names of the authors and sometimes the circumstances in which they were composed; and the third kind are most probably to be explained as instructions for musical setting. These last-named titles are in most cases very obscure; the Revised Version has simply transliterated the Hebrew words. On the assumption that these are musical terms, we have three classes of them in the Psalms. One class apparently gives directions for the tune to which the Psalm is to be sung, and this tune is named, like some modern hymn tunes, after the words with which the tune had been originally or customarily associated; these appear to have been popular songs, not necessarily of an entirely religious character (Ps. lvi., R.V. title: "set to Jonath elem rehokim"; mar. translates: "The silent dove of them that are afar off"; Ps. lvii., lviii.: "set to Al tashheth," which means: "Do not destroy." In the Septuagint the setting of Ps. lxx. has been altered to: "Save me, O Lord"). Other titles seem to direct the voice to be used in singing, as either falsetto or bass (Ps. xlvi., "set to Alamoth"; probably maiden-like voices, and as women took no part in the service of the choirs, this must refer either to tenor, or male falsetto; Ps. vi., xii., "set to the Sheminith." R.V. mar., "the eighth." This is probably the octave or bass voice). Two references are to be found to the instrumental accompaniment to be used, as either stringed or wind instruments (Ps. iv., vi., etc., "on stringed instruments"; Ps. v., "with the Nehiloth," mar., "wind instruments"). The much discussed meaning of _Selah_ is most probably to be sought in a musical direction. The word means: "lift up." The Septuagint translates, "interlude," but many other versions (Version of Aquila, Syriac Peshitto, Jerome and the Targum) translate, "for ever." This duplicate translation suggests the very possible clue that at the places where _Selah_ appears, the Psalm might be ended, if desired, and the "for ever," or the doxology, which was usually sung at the end of the Psalm and which is found at the end of each book, could be taken there. As completed, the Psalter is therefore a book with directions for a fully organised and choral worship, and we have to seek for a time when such a worship was in existence. The difficulty is that these musical directions are somewhat rare and are not found in the later books, but only in connection with those Psalms entitled, "for the Director." As the instruments mentioned are only of the simplest kind and not of the varied character used in the ornate worship of the Temple (cxlix. 3; cl. 3-5), and as by the time the Greek translation was made (150 B.C.), their significance was forgotten, we have to put the final edition long after the founding of synagogue worship, in which the Director's Psalm Book was first used, and at some period when there had been a complete change in musical practice. This demands a time when Hellenistic culture had moulded even the Temple worship. (The Jews were under Greek influence and rule from B.C. 333 to B.C. 63.) The time from which a full choral service was in use in the Temple is to be carried back, according to the Chronicler, to the time of Solomon and David, but a comparison with the earlier history contained in the Books of the Kings does not confirm this. The Chronicler, who from his interest in these matters seems to have been a member of one of the Levite choirs, really gives us the customs current in his times, and infers that they went back unchanged to the time of the building of the first Temple and to the preparatory work of David. These considerations, together with the admitted lateness of many of the Psalms, some of them undoubtedly belonging to the times of the Maccabæan wars, bring us down to that late age and perhaps more precisely to the time of the rededicated Temple (165 B.C.), and demand that the final edition of the Psalter is to be placed somewhere about 150 B.C. We might expect to find traces of the growth of the Psalter in the division into five books (at xli., lxxii., cvi., cl., see R. V.), but there seems no real division necessary between Books IV. and V. and the five-fold division may be due to the desire to imitate the divisions of the Law; the other divisions however contain more hopeful suggestions. The first book, for instance, is almost entirely ascribed to David (Ps. i. is an introduction to the whole book, composed for the final edition, and Ps. ii. may have been also placed in front as part of the introduction. Ps. xxxiii., which is very late, may have been added as a kind of doxology to Ps. xxxii. The rest are ascribed to David). The second book is largely Davidic and it concludes with the statement: "the prayers of David the son of Jesse are ended." In spite of this notice Psalms are found ascribed to David in the books that follow, so that the remark must have been found appended to a collection that the final editor took over; it cannot be due to his own hand. Further evidence of compilation is to be found in the strange occurrence of the different names for God: Elohim and Jehovah. In the first book the name of Jehovah preponderates. In Book II. the name Elohim is found most frequently. Then in Book III. Psalms lxxiii.-lxxxiii. use Elohim only, and lxxxiv.-lxxxix. Jehovah mainly; and in practically the whole of Books IV. and V. Jehovah is almost solely used, The reason for this phenomenon must be sought in editorial redaction, for in the duplicate Psalms, xiv. and liii., xl. 13-17 and lxx., Jehovah is found in the first recension and Elohim in the second. The Elohistic character of lxxiii.-lxxxiii. may be due to the original compiler since they are all ascribed to Asaph and otherwise bear marks of common production. The Elohistic redaction may have been made in a period when the name Jehovah sounded tribal and almost heathenish; but a similar test leads to the conclusion that the first collection enjoyed by this time a liturgical familiarity, which did not permit of alteration. The reversion to the name of Jehovah in Books IV. and V. might be explained by the fact that in later times the name was written but never pronounced. On the line of these suggestions we should expect to find that Book I. contained the earliest Psalms and Books IV. and V. the latest; this is roughly correct, if we allow for the possibility of minor insertions being made for various purposes in the last edition. In Book V. there is a group of Psalms (civ.-cvi., cxi.-cxiii., cxv.-cxvii., cxxxv., cxlvi.-cl.), which are distinguished by either commencing or ending with "Hallelujah," and are known as the "Hallels." From their contents, it may be observed that they are suitable for use at the Great Festivals, and it is known that they were, and are still so used by the Jews. They imply a highly organised musical service (Ps. cl.), they require a time when the festivals were regularly observed and when the worship of the Temple could be carried on without fear. Such conditions are to be found together only after the Exile, and then only during the period of Greek rule; and to this late period the composition of these Psalms is to be referred. An even later date is demanded for some Psalms that are said to reflect the rebellion against the Hellenizing movement enforced by Antiochus Epiphanes, in which the Maccabees played such a heroic part. This date is confirmed by the references to: the "assembly of the saints" (Ps. cxlix. 1, Heb. _hasidim_, the purist party formed in that time); the cruel persecution for religious opinions (Ps. xliv. 17-22; lxxix. 2; lxxxiii. 3, 4); the defiling of the Temple, the burning of the synagogues, and the silence of the Prophetic voice (Ps. lxxiv. 7-9; lxxix. 1). Other Maccabæan Psalms are said to be: cx., where there is a reference to some priest who is not in the legitimate succession, which entirely describes the Priest-Kings of the Maccabæan dynasty (other scholars would put this Psalm very early; on the other hand there are alleged traces of an acrostic that would spell Simon, the first of the Maccabæan Priest-Kings); cxv. cxviii., which celebrate successful wars in which the leaders have been the house of Aaron, to which house the Maccabees of course belonged. This is the latest date that is demanded for any of the Psalms, and in the present condition of criticism we can only say that between this and some earlier period the book is to be placed. It must now be our task to discover the earliest date that any of the Psalms demand. We have seen that Book I. seems to be the earliest collection, and tradition assumes that this was the work of David and was the Psalm Book used in the First Temple. To discuss this point it is necessary to enquire into the reliability of the titles that ascribe the Psalms to definite authors. These titles give: one each to Moses, Ethan, and Heman; two to Solomon; eleven to the Sons of Korah; twelve to Asaph; and seventy-three to David (it is doubtful whether Jeduthun is a person; if so he is probably the same as Ethan: Ps. xxxix., lxii., lxxvii., titles; cp. 1 Chron. vi. 44 with 1 Chron. ix. 16). Now it should be noticed that none of the authors are later than Solomon (Ethan, 1 Kings iv. 31, 1 Chron. vi. 44; Heman, 1 Kings iv. 31, 1 Chron. vi. 33, xv. 17, 19, xxv. 5; Asaph, 1 Chron. vi. 39, xxv. 1f, Neh. xii. 46; in Ezra ii. 41, Neh. vii. 44, Asaph seems to mean a guild of singers rather than an individual). If any of the Psalms ascribed to authors might be expected to yield confirmation by internal evidence, it would be Ps. xc.; but there is nothing in its language or thought that points to extreme antiquity. There is also nothing in the Psalms themselves that confirms the authorship of the contemporaries of Solomon, Ethan and Heman. The title of Ps. cxxvii., "of Solomon," is missing in the Septuagint and is evidently a late gloss, and the title of Ps. lxxii. is translated in the Septuagint: "a psalm _for_ Solomon," which certainly describes the contents better. The Psalms ascribed to the Sons of Korah (xlii.-xlix., lxxxiv., lxxxv., lxxxvii., lxxxviii.; 2 Chron. xx. 19, 1 Chron. xxvi. 19; but 1 Chron. vi. 33-38 shows that Kohathite and Korahite are the same), have common features, as have also the Psalms ascribed to Asaph, which imply that they are at least guild collections; but their exalted conception of God, their consciousness of national righteousness, the reference to synagogue worship and the cessation of prophecy (lxxiv. 8f) point to a time subsequent to Ezra. The chief interest of the titles is found in the ascription of so many Psalms to David. It was long thought that David was not only the author of the Psalms ascribed to him, but that he was also editor of the entire Psalter. (When as early as Theodore of Mopsuestia it was recognised that some of the Psalms were Maccabæan, it was supposed that David wrote them in the spirit of prophecy.) Our enquiry may be narrowed down to those Psalms that are ascribed to David in the earliest collection, Book I. Do these reflect the conditions and development of his times? It must be replied that there is nothing in the Davidic Psalms as a whole to distinguish them from other Psalms, and what historical connection they betray seems everywhere to belong to an age later than David. The Temple is spoken of as already in existence (Ps. v. 7; xi. 4) and the name for Jerusalem, "my holy hill," seems to demand a time subsequent to the mission of Isaiah. The general conditions of life reflected are clearly those in which a godly minority is oppressed and wickedness is established in the land; a condition which finds no parallel in the Books of Samuel. Moreover, the religious ideas are far in advance of those that seem to have been prevalent in the time of David or that can be traced to him. The general tone of the Psalms is one of a chastened piety that hardly existed in the time of the kingdom, and the religious ideas everywhere show dependence upon the teaching of the Prophets. There is hardly a verse of the fifty-first Psalm which cannot be paralleled in Jeremiah, but there is almost nothing in the Psalm that makes it a fitting confession for an adulterer and murderer. These considerations lead us to enquire whether the Hebrew preposition translated "of" David denotes authorship; its accurate signification is "belonging to," and from the analogy of the other titles we infer this to mean that the editor found these Psalms in a collection ascribed to David. What gave the name of David to that collection? Some of the Psalms may be pre-exilic and may even go down to the early monarchy; Ps. xx. may belong to the Old Kingdom, but it can hardly have come from the lips of David; it is Ps. xviii. that has perhaps the greatest claim to Davidic authorship. This Psalm is also found in 2 Sam. xxii., but there it seems to be an interpolation, for it breaks apart verses that apparently once stood together (2 Sam. xxi. 22 and xxiii. 8). Yet we meet with a reference to the Temple even in this Psalm (2 Sam. xxi. 7); at the same time several of its passages would come very fittingly from the Warrior King, and would be suitable to his barbarous times. In this Psalm, if anywhere, we may possess some original Davidic fragments. We must conclude therefore, that the Davidic Psalter was so called because its origin was somehow due to David, or because it contained some Song of David which must have been considerably altered to suit liturgical purposes. The early tradition of David ascribes to him a poetic and musical gift (1 Sam. xvi. 18; Amos. vi. 5), and of this the lament over Saul and Jonathan (2 Sam. i.) is a sufficient confirmation, but it should be noticed that it is remarkably free from any religious sentiment whatsoever. It must be due to the later tradition of the Chronicler that David has been credited as the saintly author of the whole Book of Psalms. The conclusion is that the titles are not, strictly speaking, a claim to authorship, but are names given, for various reasons, to pre-existing collections; that the earliest of these collections may contain pre-exilic Psalms, but that everything points to the collection being made for use in the time of the Second Temple. The references to a king do not necessitate any re-consideration of this verdict; they may be personifications of the nation in the light of Messianic conceptions. This position has been steadily resisted by some in the interests of tradition, but without any real religious reason being adduced; for the idea that this decision denies the authority of Christ and His Apostles is disposed of by the simple fact that in the New Testament, David is simply a name for the Psalter (Ps. ii. is ascribed to David in Acts ii. 34; it is anonymous in the Psalter. Heb. iv. 7 has "in" David; this does not refer to authorship, for the author of this Epistle never quotes the Scriptures save anonymously). To others it will perhaps come as a great relief to feel that the writer of some of the most spiritual utterances of personal religion need not be identified with the historical David. There are awful possibilities of failure in the most religious men, but the problem here is more difficult than that: it would compel us to think of David as displaying in public no hint of the secrets of his inner religious life, but very much that contradicts them. The traditional idea of the authorship of the Psalms has done grave injustice to the sincere if passionate character of the historical David. The origin of such a tradition is due as much to the spiritual blindness as to the careless historic judgment of later Judaism, and its acceptance by generations of Christian students speaks a greater reverence for tradition than for religious insight. To be compelled to date the great majority of the Psalms within the period 500-150 B.C., is indeed a comforting interpretation of Jewish history; for it shows that the barren ground of post-exilic times was not without its tender flowers of piety and an appreciation of the prophetic religion far beyond that of the Prophets' contemporaries. The gloss of legalism, which can be traced in the Psalter, and which was inevitable when these private devotions were adapted to the Levitical worship of the Temple, has not succeeded in obscuring, but rather brings into greater clearness the spiritual elements in the Psalms. It is welcome to turn from this task of literary criticism, which finds in the Psalms its most difficult field, and which perhaps yields here less help than in other branches of Bible literature, to an endeavour to appreciate the religion of the Psalmists. There is difficulty here also; but now it is in the splendour of the composition, the magnificent breadth of experience they embrace, the classic utterance of the eternal religion of the heart. We have recognised the heterogeneous character of the collection, and it is only to be expected that this should be reflected in the variety of religious ideas. A theology of the Psalter is as impossible as it is mistaken. The quality of poetic genius varies, the heights of religious inspiration sometimes reached are not consistently maintained, and there are many lower levels. And yet there remains a sufficient unity to leave a very definite impression; that unity owes little to similarity of circumstances, to contemporaneity, or to the influence of a theological school; it is rather due to the unreflective simplicity of the human mind in the realised presence of God. In that position all unfettered religion speaks one tongue: the only mother tongue of humanity. The inspiration of the Psalmist owes its beauty to the absence of self-consciousness. There is nothing here of the prophetic claim to speak in the name of God; in the Psalms God does not speak to men, men speak to God, but it is just because of this that the revelation in the Psalms reaches so far beyond the limits of Old Testament religion and seems to grasp that religion which was to be personified in the consciousness of Jesus. We are compelled to recognise that men's prayers are themselves a revelation of God, and that when men seek to voice their highest aspiration we catch the sound of a deep undertone, the supplication of the Spirit that intercedes within. As an expression of eternal religion the Psalms have one serious defect, which really unfits them, without careful selection, for use in Christian worship--their awful imprecations upon enemies. There are hardly to be found in the whole realm of literature more fearful desires for vengeance than in the Psalms (cix. 6-15. cxxxvii. 9; cxl. 10). To date the Psalms from the comfortable times of the monarchy, under the martial supremacy of David and Solomon, is to make them cruel without meaning; but imagine the sufferings of the Israelites in Exile, or in the still worse times when the pious remnant were persecuted by their own irreligious and apostate countrymen, which was so often their lot in post-exilic times, and these expressions can be explained, even if they cannot be justified. The desire for vengeance does not arise from personal motives, but is doubtless due to the complete identification of the Psalmist with the cause of God and righteousness, and to his burning indignation against the cruelty, injustice, and craftiness of the impenitent wicked. Thus understood, there is a moral element in this anger, which is not only to be condoned but even admired. This deep moral revulsion has been one of the greatest factors in moulding history along righteous lines. But when all this has been said, it remains to be acknowledged frankly that this is not the religion of the Sermon on the Mount. The anger at sin is right, but the desire for vengeance is no real cure for sin. It is far from the deep wisdom of the Son of Man; but we have to remember, when we judge the Psalms from that standard, that His wisdom is still unaccepted, not only by the world, but by many who profess His name. It is in the Psalms that personal religion receives its clearest exposition in the Old Testament, and this spirit owes much to the personal experience of Jeremiah. There has been an endeavour to find the speaking subject of the Psalms not in the individual but in the nation. There are national Psalms, but many others cannot be successfully interpreted save as the expressions of personal devotion. National religion could never reach these heights; it is bound down to the average level, it is always open to unethical movements and ideas. The personal element is not to be confused with the individualistic; the personal is wider than the individual; it realises the things that lie at the base of all human life, and when it is most personal it speaks the most universal language. It is in the deep sense of sin and the assurance of forgiveness that the Psalms are the classics for all who know the secrets they utter; and the sense of sin can never be felt save under the searching light of God's very presence. To be deeply conscious of sin is the first step towards any high revelation of God, and of this the fifty-first Psalm is the most perfect expression; there we see the sense of inward sin, opening up the possibility of a separation between the self and that higher self, the holy spirit, and bringing about the severest mental pain and anguish. Naturally, the Psalms hardly rise to the Christian ground of forgiveness, but the thirty-second Psalm vibrates with the joy that the Christian knows and, when mere figures of speech are discounted, it springs from the same reason: the acknowledgment of one's sin and the consciousness of its forgiveness in the newly realised communion with God. In dealing with the problem of the providential order of the world, the Psalms hardly reflect any higher conceptions than those found elsewhere in the Old Testament, if they even rise as high as the conception of the Second Isaiah. The idea that goodness is rewarded by long life and prosperity, and that wickedness is always marked by outward disaster is the root idea; and the fact that this is not confirmed by observation is the cause of the complaint of many a Psalm. This problem receives no conscious solution throughout the book. The revelation given through the worship of the sanctuary only shows that the prosperity of the wicked is temporary (Ps. xxxvii., lxxiii.); but how often even this must seem to be untrue, for in many cases there are no bands in their death. Nothing higher is reached than pride in one's integrity and the assurance that somehow and somewhere retribution is sure. There is no conception of the principle of vicarious suffering, and the values set upon righteousness and prosperity never attain to those words of Jesus: "Blessed are they that have been persecuted for righteousness sake." The pressure of this problem of Providence is supposed to have driven the Psalmists to pierce the veil and to descry beyond the grave a compensation for the inequalities of this life, and passages are frequently adduced to prove this (Ps. xvi. 10, 11; xvii. 15; xlix., 15; lxxiii. 23-26). The current belief of Israel embraced an existence after death, but only in the form of unconscious and shadowy life in the under world, _Sheol_, and this is most explicitly expressed in many of the Psalms (vi. 5; xxx. 9; xlix. 14; lxxxviii. 10-12). What then is the significance of the expressions which seem to point to something more? An accurate translation and a correct exegesis dispose of nearly all of these passages as in any sense explicit evidence for a definite belief in immortality; but there remains a witness of much greater value. It is through communion with God, and because of the significance with which it invests conscious life that the Psalmists are led to feel that their experience can never be interrupted by death. To those who know the reality of personal communion with God, this has more cogency than any other argument for immortality. The experience of communion throws a new value on personality and gives a deeper meaning to this life, and in face of this discovery death becomes nothing more than a passing shadow. While therefore the application of Ps. xvi. 10 to the resurrection of Christ is foreign to the methods of modern interpretation, that passage does show the real significance of the resurrection of Christ; for it is the person of Christ in communion with God that has brought life and immortality to light. The Psalmist shared this vital experience whether he was able to infer immortality of the soul from it or not. But the glory of the Psalms is found in their realisation of the presence of God. This expresses itself in the vivid consciousness of a present and helpful Personality rather than in intellectual concepts or theological definitions. The transcendence of God receives full appreciation, but it is never in terms of spatial distance, but in an inward realisation of His moral excellence (Ps. xxxvi. 5-7). To the discerning soul the presence of God is inescapable and is absolutely omnipresent (Ps. cxxxix. 7-10). Right alongside of the recognition of the might of God and His holiness, there is found the sense of His fatherly pity, His gentleness, and His understanding of us (Ps. ciii. 13; xviii. 35). It would be altogether mistaken to look in the Psalms for that conception of Nature which has become one of the greatest gains of modern culture. To the Psalmist Nature has no meaning apart from God, and it is merely the sphere of His activity. But the beginnings of a poetic delight in things is felt almost on every page (Ps. xxiii. 2; lv. 6; lxv. 8, 9; xciii. 3; cvii. 24; cx. 3b; cxxiv. 5; cxxx. 6; cxxxix. 18b); while the so-called Nature Psalms (viii., xix., xxix., lxv., xciii., civ., cxlviii.) yield a conception of creation and of the relation of God to the world that has not sufficiently shaped theology, and as a consequence has made it possible for us to think of a conflict between religion and science. The consciousness of God as of a present living Personality is the great contribution of Hebrew religion, and of this the Psalms are the supreme expression. All conception of a merely unconscious, all-pervading essence is transcended by the intense experience of communion; He is "an ever present help in time of trouble." The Hebrew Psalmist may be a child beside the Hindu sage or the Greek philosopher, but no one has ever sounded the human heart as he. The experience he has bequeathed to the world is that of a God who is infinite, mighty and all-present, and yet One who can be known in the experiences of temporal life and felt in the limitations of the human mind; One who shepherds and guides men, and who can take the place of human friend or nearest relative. This is in the direct line with Christ's consciousness of the Father. Without this we may have a mysticism that must perforce remain silent, or a philosophy that loses itself in the endeavour to reconcile the antinomies of thought, but without this we cannot have a religion that can satisfy the craving of the human heart for an infinite, holy, and helping Companion. THE RELIGION OF THE WISE In determining from internal evidence whether Job is later or earlier than Proverbs, the following comparisons should be examined:-- Job v. 17 and Prov. iii. 11. " xi. 8 " " ix. 18. " xv. 7 " " viii. 25. " xviii. 5,6} " {" xiii. 9. " xxi. 17 } " {" xxiv. 20. " xxii. 28 " " iv. 18. " xxviii. 18 " " iii. 15; viii. 11. " xxviii. 28 " " i. 7. In these examples, it might be noted, it is the friends of Job who quote the Proverbs; except in Job xxi. 17, where Job questions the Proverb already quoted by Bildad, rather than quotes it with approval; and in the case of xxviii. 18, 28, the whole chapter is regarded by critics as suspicious, on the ground that the sentiments here expressed by Job are in contradiction to his general attitude. These passages would seem somewhat to confirm the idea that the Book of Job is intended to be a criticism of the theory of Providence found in Proverbs. * * * * * On the suggestion that Ecclesiastes owes its disjointed character to some disarrangement of the original sheets of the MS., Bickell proposes to read the book in the following order:-- (1) i. 1-ii. 11. (2) v. 9-vi. 7. (3) iii. 9-iv. 8. (4) ii. 12-iii. 8. (5) viii. 6-ix. 3. (6) ix. 11-x. 1. (7) vi. 8-vii. 22. (8) iv. 9-v. 8. (9) x. 16-xi. 6 (10) vii. 23-viii. 5. (11) x. 2-x. 15. (12) ix. 4-10. (13) xi. 7-xii. 8. Bickell would regard the Appendix, xii. 9-14, as a later addition. Lecture X THE RELIGION OF THE WISE Certain books of the Old Testament have a marked resemblance both in their subject-matter and in their religious and ethical outlook. They stand out from the other classes of the literature, for they are neither prophetical, like the writings of the Prophets or the histories written under their influence, nor legalistic, like the great codes of the Pentateuch, nor liturgical and devotional, like the Psalms; and for convenience they are designated: "the Wisdom Literature." These writings deal chiefly with "wisdom," or the practical ordering of life, and we frequently find a reference to "the words of the wise," as if there was a school of teachers who were devoted to the discussion of these problems. The chief contributions of this school are, in our Bible, the Book of Proverbs, and in the Apocrypha, Wisdom and Ecclesiasticus. Job and Ecclesiastes are occupied with the same problems, but their attitude is critical and their method of treatment peculiar. No one can fail to feel the almost perplexing difference of this literature from the rest of the Old Testament; unlike the prophetic it has less a message to the conscience than a problem for the mind; unlike the historical books it is perfectly timeless, and utterly detached from the national hopes; it is not occupied with ceremonies or ritual, but with religion as a matter of conduct. The nearest approach to this is to be found in some of the Psalms, which, passing from the emotions of the devout spirit, become engaged with the problems and injustices of life. Its religion is more universal than that of the Prophets or even of the Psalmists, but it is less emotional; the religion of the heart has given way to the wisdom of the mind. We have here the beginnings of a philosophy, a mental activity strangely absent from the Hebrew race; it is not however a speculative philosophy, but one purely concerned with practical life; and yet there is a direct progression traceable from the chapters in Proverbs (i.-ix.), which are devoted to the praise of wisdom, through the work known as the Wisdom of Solomon, to Philo, the great Jewish philosopher, who endeavoured to interpret Moses by Plato and to reconcile Hebrew religion with Greek speculation. Although in this literature we have the beginnings of a philosophy it is rather that of the street than of the academy; a cultivation of a philosophic attitude towards life, its problems and duties, rather than any speculation on metaphysical reality or the absolute origin of things. The wisdom we hear so much of is an intellectual virtue, although it embraces neither speculation nor learning, but is limited to mean sagacity, shrewdness, prudence in the conduct of life. This is the main theme of the Proverbs, but the problem of the correct ordering of life unearths a deeper and darker one--the problem of the existence of evil, the injustice of life as revealed in the blind indiscrimination of trouble, pain, and death. With this problem some of the Psalms and the Books of Job and Ecclesiastes especially deal. In seeking to place this literature, we are met with an even worse difficulty than in the case of the Psalms; for the entire absence of historical allusion, and the spirit of detachment in which religious questions are discussed, leave no trace of date or age. The three books in our Bible belonging to this literature are ascribed to very early authors; two to Solomon and one traditionally to Job or Moses, although the Book of Job is really anonymous. Now it is exceedingly difficult to gather from the prophetic or historical books any trace of the opinions that are found in the Wisdom Literature. The problem of evil certainly began to occupy the minds of men like Jeremiah even before the Exile; but in the picture which the Prophets give us of the Jewish state under the late monarchy, we get no glimpse of a people who looked on life and religion as do the writers of these books. In the Wisdom Literature we find references to "the wise" as to a special class in the community (Prov. i. 6; xxii. 17; xxiv. 23; Job xv. 18); in the historical literature we find the "wisdom" of certain men extolled (Solomon, 1 Kings iii. 16-28; iv. 29-34; x. 3 ff.; Joseph, Gen. xli. 39; the four wise men, 1 Kings iv. 31, the wisdom of Egypt, the East, 1 Kings iv. 30, and of Edom, Ob. 8; Jer. xlix. 7), and in the prophetic writings "the wise" are mentioned as a class distinct from the prophet and the priest (Jer. xviii. 18) and often in a depreciatory way (Isa. xxix. 14; Jer. viii. 8; ix. 12). It seems almost impossible to identify the wise men of Proverbs with this class who receive so little praise from the Prophets. The wise men of Proverbs do not speak as if they needed to defend themselves against the claims of the prophet (Prov. xxix. 18; the reference to "vision," which can only mean a communication to the prophet, is not found elsewhere in Proverbs and is doubted by many scholars), nor can we understand the need for the message of the Prophets if this practical religion of "the wise" was current in their times. This religion may lack passion and be without national consciousness, but Isaiah and Micah would surely have found something to their heart's desire in its pure ethical character. Indeed, the religious thought seems to be dependent on the teaching of the Prophets, but only at a distance, for it is ethically advanced and has become somewhat rarefied and unemotional. The literary character seems also to point to a later age; for it is academical, sophistical, and polished. The polish of the Proverbs might be due to constant use among the common people, but they are not like popular sayings (cp. 1 Sam, xxiv. 13; 1 Kings xx. 11; Jer. xxxi. 29; Ezek. xviii. 2), and their evident kinship with Wisdom and Ecclesiasticus indicates a late post-exilic origin. We shall first devote some time to an examination of the Book of Proverbs. The Hebrew "proverb" (_mashal_) means "a representation," and may be used of a fable or a taunt, but is more especially confined to any generalisation from experience or observation on life and character expressed in a rhythmic and polished form. The most usual form of the proverb is a couplet in which a common fact of Nature is placed beside a common fact of human life: "Where there is no wood the fire goes out, and where there is no talebearer strife will cease." The book as a whole would seem to be ascribed to Solomon (i. 1), but this is only the tradition of the final editor; for, as in the case of the Psalter, Proverbs shows every trace of gradual compilation, and the names of other authors are given. The main divisions of the book are as follows:-- A. (i. 1-6). The prologue, by the final editor, either ascribing the work to Solomon or else praising his proverbs. B. (i. 7-ix.). This seems to be the latest addition to the book; it is not a collection of proverbs at all, but is a continuous discourse in praise of Wisdom. In viii. 22 Wisdom is personified as a creature of God present at the creation of the world. This hypostatization of an attribute of God is one of the latest developments of Hebrew thought, and is so unusual to its genius that we are compelled to seek for some possibility of infiltration from foreign sources. The idea is still further developed in Ecclesiasticus (xxiv.), and in the Book of Wisdom has become quite a Platonic speculation (vii. 22-viii. 1). The appearance of this idea in Hebrew thought seems to be most explicable in the period of Greek influence, when Plato's doctrine of the Idea might become known in Palestine; somewhere about 250 B.C. seems a likely date. The identification of virtue with knowledge, which we find in the book, is also due to Greek thought. It was along this line of development that the conception of "the Logos" was welcomed into Jewish thought, to have through Philo such a profound influence on some of the writers of the New Testament. C. (x.-xxii. 16). This collection of proverbs is ascribed to Solomon and is generally thought by critics to be the oldest main collection; many would even be willing to assign it to the golden age of the monarchy. The Solomonic authorship is, however, unthinkable; the sentiments expressed are unsuitable for a luxurious and polygamous monarch (xv. 16, xxi. 31; xxii. 14; xiii. 1; cp. 1 Kings iv. 26; xi. 1, 4, 5-13; xii. 10, 11), and the ascription to Solomon is probably due to circumstances similar to those which operated in the case of the ascription of the Psalms to David. There are many objections to any pre-exilic time as a suitable historic background for this collection; there is no mention of idolatry, whereas we learn from Ezekiel (vi., viii., xxiii.) that idolatry was practised in Jerusalem down to the time of the city's destruction; monogamy seems to be taken quite for granted, whereas it would appear that polygamy was general before the prophetic reforms; and of the great upheaval that these reforms involved, this collection shows no trace. The national religion has here given place to universalism, a development that seems to demand some experience of contact with other nations and especially some acquaintance with foreign culture. The references to the king neither require Solomonic authorship nor demand an age when the monarchy was established; for they are only general sentiments concerning the duties of the king in the State, and are of such a nature that they show very little reminiscence of Israel's actual experience of a monarchy. D. (xxii. 17-xxiv. 22) and E. (xxiv. 23-34) are two collections of the sayings of "the wise," whose ascription, together with the reference to "instruction," points to an advanced stage of reflection and teaching, and perhaps to the existence of philosophic teachers who had schools and pupils. F. (xxv.-xxix.). "These also are proverbs of Solomon, which the men of Hezekiah, King of Judah, copied out." This title has an air of circumstantiality about it which looks like a genuine historical note, and it has been observed that there is a change of tone, in this collection, in regard to the monarchy, as if some actual experience of kingly tyranny had been lately borne; so that if we were to refer this collection to the age mentioned in the title we should have to ante-date the collection, C. But in view of the state of society here portrayed, which is similar to that of Ecclesiasticus, we have no alternative but to regard the title, as in the case of some of the Davidic Psalms, as due to later Jewish scribes, and as without authority. G., H. and I. are three small collections (xxx.; xxxi. 1-9; xxxi. 10-31), the first by Agur: a very obscure passage, apparently quoting a declaration of reverent agnosticism, with a reply to it by some more believing scribe. The second is ascribed to King Lemuel, and the third is in praise of a virtuous woman, by an anonymous writer. The religious teaching of the Proverbs would seem to be a refinement of the prophetic religion, standing quite apart from the legal and ritual development. Religion has become entirely a matter of ethics; the creed is wonderfully colourless and simple, and the inducement to virtue remains almost entirely on the plane of utilitarianism and prudence. There is a good deal that is quite worldly wisdom, but pure religion is by no means wanting (xxi. 3; xiv. 34); the fear of the Lord is not slavish fear, but is a guiding principle for life and the beginning of wisdom. Men are divided somewhat roughly into the foolish and the wise; and although no book in the world has ever depicted the foolishness of men with greater variety and reality, yet there seems no hope that folly may be overcome, or that wicked men can be turned from their ways; Wisdom knows no forgiveness and can only mock when men turn to her too late (i. 24-28). Yet the ethical level is high; woman especially is highly estimated, and the home life is held sacred; kindness to animals is inculcated (xii. 10), and there is a real approach to absolute ethics in such sayings as: "Say not thou, I will recompense evil"; "Say not I will do so to him as he hath done to me" (xx. 22; xxiv. 17, 29; xxv. 21, 22). The writers have been called "humanists," and this rightly describes their position; it is the highest level rabbinical religion ever reached; it has its parallel in some of the aphoristic teaching of Jesus, but it has no message for the outcast and fallen; it knows no secret whereby the fool may be made wise and the heart be changed by a great emotion; it is the religion of the sage, not the religion of the Saviour. The doctrine of retribution is still thought to be quite satisfactory in its working (ii. 21 f.; x. 25; xi. 21). In an earlier and less reflective age this idea would not have been unexpected; but it is remarkable that it should be acquiesced in by the wise men; and yet it is an idea of life that seems to persist against all experience: it is found in the time of Christ and it still obtains, especially in the judgment of the cause of poverty. Perhaps its persistence is to be traced to an ideal of justice so strong as to obscure accurate observation of the facts. * * * * * When we turn to the Book of Job we come to a work not only the greatest product of the wise men, but the supreme literary production of the Hebrew nation. The grandeur of its language has somewhat obscured the real meaning of the book; for the opinions that the book was written to controvert are stated with such vivid power and poetic grace that they are now often quoted as Biblical truths of equal value with the opinions apparently supported by the author. It is our task, not so much to admire the literary talent of the author, as to estimate his contribution to the religion of Israel. The Book of Job has been referred to almost every age from Moses to post-exilic times. There is certainly an endeavour to reproduce the conditions of the patriarchal age, in the avoidance of the name Jehovah (Exod. vi. 3), and in the money standard adopted (Job. xlii. 11); but there is no desire to deceive the reader, for this archaic atmosphere is adopted merely as the appropriate setting of the dialogue, and is not maintained: the name Jehovah slips from the author's pen, he takes no pains to conceal his knowledge of the Law and his interest in the questions of his own times. The question of age is not to be complicated by the question of authorship; there was a person named Job, known to Ezekiel (xiv. 14), but there is nowhere any assumption that Job himself wrote the book; and the mechanical and symbolical character of the disasters which befall Job, and the nature of the compensation, show that we have here only dramatic settings for the speeches and not actual history. It is likely that there was a well-known tradition of a man named Job who had suffered overwhelming troubles and eventually had been restored to his former prosperity, and this is made the basis for a discussion of the problem of suffering. It has been suggested that in the Prologue and Epilogue we have fragments of that old tradition, since these passages are in prose while the body of the book is in semi-poetic rhythm; but the prose form is best explained as that always adopted by the Hebrews for narrative, for we find ideas in these parts that betray as late a date as anything in the body of the work. Considered on internal evidence, everything seems to point to the age which produced the rest of the Wisdom Literature; and more precisely, a date shortly before or shortly after Proverbs, seems indicated. The material for deciding more particularly is such that different conclusions may be drawn from it. For instance, the personification of wisdom in Proverbs seems to be in advance of the idea of wisdom in Job; and if we could think of the development of an idea always coinciding with chronological progression, then Job would need to be placed earlier than Proverbs; but this is complicated by the fact that the main body of the book of the Proverbs may have been in circulation before the earlier chapters were added. Yet there are apparent quotations from the Proverbs in the Book of Job (xv. 7 f. = Prov. viii. 22-25), and the reference to the lamp of the wicked being put out (Prov. xiii. 9; xxiv. 20) seems clearly to have Proverbs in mind (Job. xxi. 17). Dependence might, of course, be taken to lie the other way, but on the whole, it would appear that the problems dealt with in Job have not yet emerged for the writers of the Proverbs, and indeed Job seems rather an indictment of the superficial idea, which we find everywhere assumed in the earlier work that prosperity and goodness are inseparable. The most satisfactory order seems therefore to be: Proverbs, Job, Ecclesiastes. The idea that Job is to be understood as a personification of the nation, such as we were led to conceive in the allegory of Jonah and in the Servant of the Lord, can hardly be maintained in face of the perfect detachment from the history and the national hopes that characterises the book. The book deals with a problem already stirring in the minds of the Prophets and the theme of many of the Psalms, but here stated with an awful daring and intensity and as the subject-matter of an entirely new form of literary composition. The Book of Job is not a drama, in the sense that it was ever intended, or would be suitable, for presentation on the stage; but it is a poem with dramatic elements and it has a dramatic movement. The endeavour to understand the message of the book is rendered difficult because different points of view are presented, and this has suggested different authors. The book certainly has well-marked divisions, and they appear to yield distinct and different solutions of the problem of suffering. The Prologue shows us what has taken place in heaven, and seems to infer that the trials came upon Job to establish his faith and righteousness; but the speeches between Job and his friends, in the second division, if by the same author as the Prologue, skilfully avoid this explanation, and the drama pursues its course with the actors remaining in complete ignorance of the solution that has been disclosed to the audience. The third division is taken up with the speeches of Elihu: these break the continuity of the poem, Job makes no reply to him, and Elihu is not mentioned in the Epilogue. An examination of these speeches shows that they fall somewhat below the level of brilliance and originality maintained in the rest of the book, and the idea that they proceed from another writer of the same school, who felt that the arguments of the three friends had not been presented in the best possible way, is worthy of consideration. The speeches of Jehovah are by the author of the main portion and are wonderfully impressive and grand, although the exact contribution that they make to the discussion of the problem is difficult to discern. The Epilogue falls back into prose, and was certainly written by one who had the entire work before him; but it so misses the meaning of the whole argument, and is content with such a superficial solution of restoration, that it has been thought by many to be an addition to the original work. Whatever may be thought of the idea of plural authorship as a solution of these divergences, the divergences themselves must be borne in mind in any attempt to estimate the message of the book. But are these different points of view incompatible with a single author? With an author of such extraordinary talent in voicing opinions with which he evidently does not agree, it cannot be said to be impossible; and it may be that he only wished to state the problem and to give those answers which were current in his age, leaving it to the reader to discover whether these answers were really solutions; the Prologue and Epilogue may have nothing to do with the didactive motive, but only be due to dramatic and artistic demands. The theology of Job certainly demands a late age and an advanced stage of reflection. One interesting point is raised by the employment, in the Prologue, of the figure of Satan. This personality, so fruitful a factor in speculation on the cause of evil, demands a careful study. It should be noted, first, that he is referred to as _the_ Satan, that is, "the Adversary"; it is a generic, not a proper, name. This creature is represented as appearing together with the angels in the presence of God, and although his designs are sinister and his suggestions unworthy, he is still a minister doing the will of God. This delegation of evil advocacy can be traced, from the idea that it is due to God Himself (2 Sam. xxiv. 1), to the work of the separate spirit who offered to entice Ahab (1 Kings xxii. 21), and then to the greater definiteness of our author. Beyond this book, again, the adversary is a darker character who has to be rebuked by God (Zech. iii.), and in the history of the Chronicler _the_ Satan has become "Satan," a proper name (1 Chron. xxi. 1; cp. 2 Sam. xxiv. 1); but we have to go outside the Old Testament Canon to get a completely dualistic opposition of God and Satan (Wisdom ii. 24). The conception of God has passed, in this book, entirely beyond the tribal Deity Jehovah, and even beyond the ethical Personality known to the Prophets, to One who is felt to be unknowable; and yet withal Job clings to the idea that he shall one day see the face of the Redeemer who now hides Himself. As in the Psalms, the alleged idea of immortality (xix. 25 ff.) is not very definite, and so contradicts the general expectation of the book (vii. 9 f. x. 21 f. xiv. 10 ff. 20 ff. xvi. 22; xxi. 26; xxx. 23), that it must be taken to refer to Job's conviction that some vindication of his cause will be made here in this life. At the same time the idea of a future judgment which shall proclaim his innocence and the ill-desert of his sufferings, is so strong, that it sweeps death out of vision, and the hope of the future life hovers in the thought if it does not break into language. A dispassionate examination of the solutions here offered to the problem of suffering shows that nothing really beyond a negative position is reached in this book. The speeches of Job must be taken to convey the author's opinions, and they are a most emphatic repudiation of the doctrine of Providence expressed by the three friends. They can only repeat the accepted notion that suffering is everywhere the cause of sin, and with scorn and indignation Job repudiates the charge, so far as he is concerned; he maintains his innocence and appeals to God as his witness; but the Witness is silent and there is no daysman betwixt them. Job's protest is not concerned with mere innocence, for in one magnificent passage he appeals to his beneficent life spent in the service of the poor and needy (xxxi.). The answers of Job leave the little system of Providence supported by his friends, completely discredited, and in this particular Jehovah sides with Job. The theophany and speeches of Jehovah do not, however, seem to convey any further contribution to the problem than perhaps the idea that for man it is insoluble, because he does not and cannot see the whole; and so nothing is left for man but to bear his griefs in silence and maintain his trust in God. Job remains, not only the finest contribution of Semitic genius to the realm of literature, but a classic for all those who feel the anguish of the world and the unintelligible perplexities of life. If it conveys no real solution, it at least disposes of one long accepted as adequate, and its complete overthrow removes one of the worst mistakes of human observation and refutes one of the cruellest judgments of men. The idea that prosperity always follows goodness has been a most disastrous bequest of Hebrew thought, and has more than anything else obscured from men's eyes the real meaning of life, prevented an accurate judgment of character, and done much to turn aside the expression of sympathy and obscure the duty of pity and forgiveness. That a solution was not within the limits of Israel's faith cannot be affirmed with Isa. liii. before us; but that it had never been rightly understood and had never taken deep hold of even noble minds is driven home with a telling force, in a further contribution of the Wisdom Literature, the Book of Ecclesiastes. The name Ecclesiastes is borrowed from the attempt to translate the Hebrew term _Qoheleth_ into Greek. Of this name a variety of interpretations have been put forward (Qoheleth, from _qahal_ an assembly, is the active feminine participle and means, one who calls, or addresses, or is merely member of, an assembly; A.V., "the Preacher"; R.V. "the great Orator"), but the one that perhaps best describes the term is that of "the debater." The work is put forward in the name of Solomon, and of all the works ascribed to him there is none that would come so suitably from the pen of that monarch, if he ever reflected deeply on his career; but this ascription is not kept up with any idea of deceiving the reader, but is simply one of the literary customs of the time and a way of honouring a great name, for there are biographical statements impossible to Solomon ("I _was_ king," i. 12; "above all that were before me in Jerusalem," i. 16), while the reflection of society and the stage of thought, but most notably the extremely late language, betray what is one of the latest of the Old Testament writings. Ecclesiastes is a work that has held an unusual fascination for certain types of disposition, Renan declaring that it was the only lovely thing that ever came from a Hebrew mind. The presence of the book at all in the Old Testament is strange, and there were strong opinions against admitting it into the Canon; it was perhaps only eventually sanctioned because its contradictory statements made it possible to interpret the book as a work written to controvert pessimistic ideas, which are brought forward only to be refuted. For the intention of the work is difficult to gather owing to its disjointed and incomplete character, which makes the book as it stands a mass of contradictions. Some passages profess utter pessimism and unbelief in God's providence, while others, like the closing chapter, seek to inculcate religious fear and trust. Various theories have been proposed to explain these phenomena occurring in one book. It has been suggested that the work is a dialogue between a doubting scholar and an orthodox believer. With a view of straightening out the argument it has been conjectured that the sheets of the original have somehow become disarranged, and others have thought of a series of interpolations in an originally quite unbelieving work; first by a writer who wishes to defend Wisdom from the author's charges of unprofitableness, and then by a writer who wishes to defend the providence of God. If interpolation is to be thought of at all--and it should only be a refuge of despair--it is to be sought in the opening and closing verses of the last chapter (xii. 1, 13, 14), which may have been added to correct the influence of the work; but even they are not impossible from this strangely vacillating author. Certainly no explanations can remove the gloomy tone of the book. The writer seems to have come into contact with Greek pessimism, and from this standpoint he sees nothing true in the Hebrew doctrine of retribution, and especially does he reject the too optimistic doctrines of the Wisdom school. The problems that are solved so simply in Proverbs, stated and left unanswered by Job, are by this author answered in entirely negative fashion: nothing is profitable in this life, nothing is new; nature and man move in an endless cycle without hope or meaning. The pursuit of Wisdom is just as foolish as the pursuit of folly: the end of the fool and the end of the wicked is the same; life is not worth living; vanity of vanities, all is vanity. In this book we at last come upon a clear recognition of the doctrine of immortality, but only to find it explicitly denied by our author (iii. 19-21). The only solution that the writer proposes is a sad Epicureanism: make the best of a bad world. And yet in spite of this conclusion the author still believes in God (iii. 11, 14; viii. 17); but He is a God who has hidden His purpose from man and whom man can do nothing to turn from His ways. This is more like the inscrutable Fate of the Greek tragedians than the Jehovah of the Prophets: indeed the word Jehovah is never once used throughout the book. If the concluding chapter comes from the original author, then it recommends a religious attitude towards these mysteries; but there is no revelation of anything that gives assurance of the reasonableness of this position or of the goodness of God. What are we to learn from this Book? Are we to refuse to read it and to reverse the judgment that included it in the Canon? Hardly that. It is well that man's doubts should find a place in the same sacred collection with his surest beliefs, for doubt may be but a stage in a process from an inadequate to a fuller faith. The book shows that the common appreciation of Israel's faith could not satisfy the mind that had its attention fixed upon the facts of life; and especially does it show that the hope of immortality, apart from which Israel's faith had largely developed, is not the one thing that is lacking. That hope, with its promise of retribution in a future and better world, will always appear too speculative to some minds to relieve the burdens of the life that now is, and even if believed in, it would offer no real clue to the meaning of our trials here, but only tend to take men's eyes off this life where perchance they might find the solution they have missed. For there is an attitude to life that solves its darkest problems, a disposition which transmutes its pain and failure, finding it no enigma, but an opportunity for learning the will of the Father; our presence here not a thing to be reluctantly borne, but a task to be joyfully accepted as the commission of God. The book of Ecclesiastes shows us, therefore, that the revelation through Israel is not yet complete; for it voices the unsatisfied need and stretches out hands of faith for something not yet made known. It is the deep dark of the night; the next hour will see the Morning Star of Bethlehem above the horizon, the fleeing shadows and the breaking of the day. MESSIANIC EXPECTATIONS The prevalence of the expectation of a personal Messiah reflected in the Gospels, and the clearness and consistency of the idea, are not to be explained solely from the Old Testament prophecies. In the Apocrypha the Messianic expectation has almost died out (Ecclus. xlix. 11; 1 Macc. ii. 57), but after the Maccabæan revolt it revived, owing doubtless to the disappointment caused by the deterioration of the Hasmonæan dynasty, of which so much had been expected. The Pharisees, who resented the policy of the Hasmonæans, made the idea of a restoration of the Davidic line the peculiar property of their party, and from this time until the appearance of Jesus, Messianic expectation reached a point never before attained. The following summary shows the emergence of the idea in the literature of the period:-- (1) The Dream-Visions of Enoch. B.C. 166-161. The Messiah appears under the figure of a white bullock, and the saints are changed into His image. The Messiah has only an official function in the world-drama, and a human though glorified personality. (2) The Sibylline Oracles. In a passage assigned to B.C. 140, the Messiah is represented as a God-sent King, who is expected to arise from the East, and whose appearance will be a signal for an attack upon the Temple by the Gentiles. (3) The Book of Jubilees. B.C. 135-105. The writer is concerned more with the Messianic Kingdom, which he conceives of spiritually, than with the Messiah, who is only alluded to once, and who is expected to arise from Judah. (4) The Similitudes of Enoch. B.C. 95-80. This part of the Book of Enoch is much occupied with the person of the Messiah. He is definitely named "the Messiah," and also bears the titles "the Elect One," "the Righteous One," and "the Son of Man." He is a Prophet and a Teacher, "the light of the Gentiles," all judgment is committed unto Him, and He will sit on the throne of His glory. He will raise again to life all the righteous who have died. (5) The Psalms of Solomon. B.C. 70-40. The Messiah is to be sinless; He is the Son of David; He will not adopt the ordinary methods of warfare, but will smite the earth with the rod of His mouth. The following works all belong to the Christian era, but they may reflect ideas that had an earlier origin:-- (6) The Assumption of Moses. A.D. 7-30. The hope of an earthly Messiah is abandoned and it is God Himself who is expected to take vengeance on His enemies. (7) The Apocalypse of Baruch. _c._ 70 A.D. The Messiah will appear after Israel's enemies have been destroyed. His Kingdom is likened to "the bright lightning," and at the end of His reign He is to return in glory to heaven. (8) 2 Esdras. A.D. 81-96. The Messiah, although more than earthly, dies after a reign of 400 years. He is pictured as a lion rebuking an eagle (the Roman power), and "as it were with the likeness of a man" arising from the midst of the sea, and flying with the clouds of heaven. Lecture XI MESSIANIC EXPECTATIONS In all the stages through which the Old Testament religion passed there seems to have existed a consciousness of their imperfection, and this produced a tendency to gaze into the future, in which it was thought the ideal religion would exist, and where could be descried the perfect realisation of God's dwelling among men. It is natural that this characteristic should find its clearest expression in the Prophets. When their eyes are upon the present, they condemn; when they look to the immediate future, they utter grave warning and the shadows deepen upon their faces; but when they lift their eyes to the distant hills of time, the light is on their faces, and they break into songs of the days that are yet to be. It is this vision of the future and the endeavour to give it a definite outline that runs like a thread through the Old Testament and forces us to look beyond its borders for the ultimate issue of its religious development. This subject may best be studied under the general head of Messianic expectations. The immediate difficulty in understanding this subject is found in the circumstance that it has received from Bible students an exaggerated attention, and has been pursued with methods that the best modern scholarship cannot sanction. The eager hunting for Messianic prophecy, and the desire to find literal fulfilment, has often stretched the meaning of passages unwarrantably and made a sane exegesis appear tame and uninteresting. But more disastrous has been the effect upon the understanding of the Old Testament as a whole. The literature has been treated as a mysterious typology, in which some indirect picture of the Messiah was to be discovered, or a series of exact predictions of His life and work. This has destroyed the sense of perspective, it has ignored the message of the Prophets to their own age, and it has been responsible for the idea that the religion of the Psalmists was simply a pious expectation of the Messiah, instead of a real communion with God. It is difficult to gain a right appreciation of this subject after it has suffered such abuse, but a serious effort should be made; for it is in the understanding of the Messianic expectation that we shall find a key to the New Testament and more especially to that conflict of soul which the acceptance of the Messiahship seems to have brought upon Jesus. The method of study followed will be an endeavour to read all alleged Messianic predictions, first of all in the light of their actual meaning for the age in which they were uttered; but more particularly it will embrace the general ideas of the future of which the conception of the Messiah forms only a part. We shall find that the conscious prediction of the Messiah is somewhat reduced in bulk, and that the Messianic expectation includes something more than a figure of the Messiah himself, and is indeed sometimes found without any such feature. The Messianic ideal involves the whole conception of the religious future of Israel. The Hebrew religion receives much inspiration from its tradition of the past, but infinitely more from its hopes for the future: the golden age is not thought to lie far back in history, but in a time yet to come. It seems likely that this idea was widely dispersed even among the common people, and it is therefore only natural that it should often have been held in an unspiritual manner and expressed after a material fashion. This hope was seized upon by the Prophets, and by them elevated above a merely material expectation; they enriched it by the wealth of their creative genius, and from their time it receives a definite content. Standing far above their contemporaries in their conception of the meaning of Jehovah's covenant with Israel, the Prophets were forced to realise the failure of their message to win immediate acceptance, and sometimes they witnessed its entire rejection by the people; and therefore it was inevitable that they should look to the future to yield what the present seemed unable to produce: a religion pure, simple, and free from all limitations. If we inquire the reason of this hope, we find it in their trust in Jehovah's covenant and in their conviction of the ultimate triumph of truth. Now it was not unnatural, with the peculiar character of their national history, for their hopes to group themselves around some commanding figure; for all along Israel had been moved by splendid personalities. They were accustomed to the appearance of men whose power and genius marked them out as fitted by Jehovah for some mighty task; so that whenever they think of the future and come to a detailed description of their vision they descry one dominant figure, the symbol and representative of the people, but also the symbol and representative of the power of Jehovah dwelling among them. This figure receives his peculiar outline largely from the needs of their immediate times, and any person of whom great things are expected may be hailed as the Messiah (Cyrus, Isa. xlv. 1; Haggai ii. 20-23, seems to suggest that Zerubbabel is the expected Messiah; and Zech. vi. 12 uses Messianic language of Joshua the High Priest). We should have expected that the figure of the Messiah, as conceived by the Prophets, would partake largely of the prophetic office idealised and accepted by an obedient people. This however is not the case. There is a promise of a prophet made through Moses, which in the New Testament has been interpreted as a Messianic prophecy (Deut. xviii. 18; Acts iii. 22, vii. 37), but an examination of the passage, which follows a denunciation of the practices of divination, necromancy, and sorcery, out of which primitive Prophetism arose, shows that it is a promise of the establishment of the prophetic office rather than of any one person. Elsewhere Moses is made to exclaim: "would that all the Lord's people were prophets" (Num. xi. 29). Both these passages are due to prophetic teaching, and this is the Prophets' conception of their office: they do not rejoice in their splendid isolation and their unique relation to God; they are grieved that the people do not share their possession of the Spirit of God and their hearing of His word, for to them these things are the essence of all true religion. So they look forward to a time when their office will no longer be necessary (Jer. xxxi. 34), and when the Spirit of the Lord shall be poured out on all flesh (Joel ii. 28f). It is not in any contradiction to this that the picture of the Servant of the Lord, delineated by the Second Isaiah, is largely drawn from the prophetic office (Isa. xlii. 1-4, xlix. 1-6, l. 4); for the Servant is the Nation of Israel fulfilling her prophetic role among the nations of mankind. In the late prophecy of Malachi the figure of Elijah the prophet is seen in the future, but only as the herald of the coming of the Messianic era (Mal. iv. 5). The Priest contributes little more than the Prophet to the picture (Zech. iii.; vi. 12; Psa. cx.); for to the prophetic conception of things the Priesthood is hardly a necessary office in a true religion. It is from the office of the King that the Messiah is largely drawn. This conception could only have arisen after the founding of the monarchy and only when the real David had faded far enough into the past to be idealised. It was in their experience of the imperfection of the Kings of Israel and Judah that the Prophets saw the need for a true kingly head; and in the oppression of military kingdoms, the need for a mighty warrior. And yet it is not a king who fills the picture of the future, so much as a kingdom. Outside the Prophets and the Psalms we find little expectation of a personal Messiah, but we find almost everywhere the conception of an ideal or Messianic age. What has been called the Protevangelium, the promise to the woman that her seed should bruise the serpent's head (Gen. iii. 15), does not point explicitly to any one person, but simply promises that in man's eternal warfare with temptation he shall at length gain the victory. The prophecy of Balaam (Num. xxiv. 17-19) involves nothing more than the future supremacy of Israel. Jacob's blessing on Judah (Gen. xlix. 10) promises a stable dynasty to that tribe, and the reference to Shiloh is so obscure that nothing can be built upon it (_Shiloh_ may mean peace, but in the Septuagint the phrase is translated: "until that which is his shall come." Another ancient reading is: "till he come whose it is." Shiloh might refer to the town of that name, but this would give no help to the interpretation. The text must be corrupt). It will be necessary for us to examine the circle of ideas which form the background of the Messianic hope and from which the idea of the Messiah emerges. When the Prophets speak of the future they often use a strange phrase: "the day of the Lord." This is found first in Amos (v. 18), but its occurrence there shows that it was already a term in use among the people, for Amos had to dissent from the popular idea of its character. The term comes from the Hebrew idiom of the "day" of battle, and it comes to be used of the great conflict in which Jehovah will entirely overthrow the enemies of Israel; it is therefore looked for with expectant hope. Amos points out that the manifestation of Jehovah will be fatal to sin, whether in Israel or in other nations: _dies iræ, dies illa_. Thus modified by Amos this is the conception which, with varying details, becomes the prophetic idea of the Day of the Lord. It may therefore come in some threatened invasion; later, it is conceived as a gathering of all the nations against Jerusalem, from which we get the picture of Armageddon, the last great war before the establishment of peace; and finally it becomes the world assize, and so the "day" of judgment of the New Testament. This "day" is to separate the history of God's dealings with men into two distinct periods, and will be the dividing line between the perfect and the imperfect; so that all the bright visions of the future are to be "after those days." The Prophets believe that reconstruction can only come after destruction, that history will reach its ideal over a precipice; they believe in a reform by cataclysm rather than by evolution. Every threatening of political change or national disaster may herald the coming of that day; it is always at hand; to their vision, they are living near the finality of things. There is a great deal in this imagery that fails to appeal to modern ideas of history and progress. It was part of the prophetic scheme and as such was a limitation of perfect vision; but shorn of its mere form it remains a witness to their consciousness of the activity of God in human history and of His judgment in the crises of the world. The form was a limitation essential to their stage of mental evolution and to its intelligibility to their age; its spirit is an eternal message to mankind. Immediately after the Day of the Lord, the Messianic Age is ushered in, and in depicting the conditions of that time the lyrical genius of the Prophets reaches its supreme expression, and these passages still inspire the reformer and move men with their ideals of peace. The picture of that age is composed by projecting into the future their own institutions and especially their religious conceptions. They picture a condition of human society which is best described in the phrase, "the kingdom of God"; for although such an expression never breaks forth from their lips, its contents are obviously in their minds. It is to be a community in which the will of God is perfectly realised, when religion shall no longer consist in statutes and commands, but in the recognition of an inner law. Absolute righteousness, individual and civil, will prevail, and the nations shall learn war no more. The animal and natural creation will share in this beneficent order: the lion shall lie down with the lamb, and the wilderness shall blossom like the rose; the veil shall be torn from men's vision, all tears shall be wiped away, and death shall be swallowed up in victory. When they come to depict the subjects of this kingdom they fail to attain to the inner and ethical requirements enunciated by Jesus, for national hopes and ambitions still cloud their outlook. There are two streams of thought--one frankly particularistic, where the future of the heathen is ignored, or where they are simply to be exterminated; and the other universalistic, where the conversion of the whole world is expected (Isa. xlv. 22; Jer. xii. 14 ff, xvi. 19; cp. Isa. xi. 14-16 with xix. 18-25). It is somewhat surprising, in view of the subsequent development of these ideas under Christian thought, that the sphere of this tremendous change is conceived to be this present earth; and even when the necessity of a new earth and a new heaven is considered, it is still earth that is to be the chief theatre of events. Heaven is conceived of as the dwelling place of Jehovah, but there is no idea that this great change is to be postponed or relegated to some heavenly condition; heaven is to come down to earth and Jehovah is to dwell among His people and be their God. It is from the ground of these ideas that there arises the conception of the person known as the Messiah, who shall be the Divine instrument in bringing about this blessed condition. Messiah is from the Hebrew, _Mashiah_, and means "anointed one." The actual phrase, _the_ Messiah, without further qualification, is not found in the Old Testament (Dan. ix. 25, A.V. "The Messiah" is incorrect; it should read: "an anointed one, a prince," as R.V. mar.); but after the closing of the Canon the phrase was constantly used to denote the Jewish hope of the appearance of a singular person, of Davidic descent, who should be superhumanly endowed, and who should overturn the enemies of the Jews and place their nation at the head of the world. The title recalls the mode of consecration used for priests and kings by anointing them with oil (Lev. iv. 3, 5, 16; vi. 22; 1 Sam. ii. 35; xii. 3), and "the anointed of Jehovah" is the common title for the kings of Israel. The origin of this idea of the Messianic King may certainly be traced to Nathan's promise to David of a perpetual seed which should occupy his throne and be the special delight and care of Jehovah (2 Sam. vii. 2-17). In the presence of a weak or unworthy occupant of the throne this promise would come to mind, and would gather new meaning as the Prophets saw in the troubles of their times the imminence of the Day of the Lord. It is to the prophet Isaiah that we owe a striking conception of a monarch who not only fulfils his promise but transcends it in a way that is hardly conceivable in a merely human king. The first emergence of this hope in the mind of the prophet occurs when he attempts to restrain Ahaz from joining the fatal confederacy of Syria and Ephraim against Assyria. When Ahaz demands some confirmation, the prophet promises the sign of a young woman who shall bear a child named Immanuel (Isa. vii. 14-17). Following Matthew, Christian expositors have taken this to be a prophecy of the virgin birth of Jesus; although it is difficult to see how this could be a sign to Ahaz. The subject is obscure to the last degree. The Hebrew word rendered "a virgin," although capable of such a special application, means simply a young woman. The translation "virgin" was first made by the Septuagint, and this may point to the fact that at the time this version was made the Messiah was expected to be born of a virgin. The prophecy seems to have arisen from the conviction that the Assyrian invasion would bring into existence some person who should represent the active presence of God with His people; and beyond this explanation there is nothing but mere speculation. But in a later oracle of Isaiah's (ix. 6f), the conception has grown in definiteness, and this expected person is crowned with such honorific titles as "Wonder of a Counsellor, Hero-God, Father of Eternity, Prince of Peace." To our ears these titles convey the sense of absolute Divinity, but it is questionable whether they meant that to Isaiah. Eastern monarchs have always been addressed with high-sounding titles, and Isaiah's language may have been coloured by foreign court customs; but still it would remain that the titles lead us to expect an unexampled figure who possesses attributes that mark him out as specially equipped by God. Once more Isaiah returns to this figure (xi. 1-12), and now definitely asserts that he shall spring from David's line; only now the majesty of his person is conceived as due to his seven-fold possession of the Spirit of Jehovah, and his character fits him rather for administrative and prophetic work. Micah, a contemporary of Isaiah, has much the same figure (v. 2-5) of a mighty prince of Davidic lineage and of mysterious birth (Bethlehem simply stands here for David's line, and "whose outgoings have been from eternity" probably means nothing more than that his descent shall spring from this ancient ancestor). There is an inexplicable element in these predictions, but they have been found elsewhere, outside Israel, in times of great national danger or expectation. In Israel, the idealisation of David, the personal element in her history, and the increased possibilities discovered in human personality when under the complete dominion of the Spirit of Jehovah, have contributed to the creation of this figure. It cannot be said that it was a mental vision of the person of Jesus that shaped the prophecy, for it must not be forgotten that it was an immediate fulfilment that they expected; and indeed their picture so utterly misled the Jews, that, when Christ claimed to be the Messiah, they treated His claim as blasphemous. While we can see that Christ was indeed a King, it is only by a spiritual conception of kingship, and only after the verdict of history has crowned Him as a true ruler of men; not by any actual resemblance to the external magnificence of the Messianic King. When the Messianic call came to Jesus He found in these passages a difficulty, for they outlined a programme He could only reject; but it was other and indirect allusions of the old Testament, some of which had never been considered as Messianic, that Jesus took for His pattern. This meant a reading of prophecy very different from that of the Jews of His time, and it is surely here that the views we have found ourselves forced to accept in regard to Old Testament prophecy can claim the support of Jesus Himself. It is important to grasp this point: the argument from predictions definitely fulfilled in Jesus has failed to convince the Jews, who ought to understand their own Scriptures best, and we must recognise that it is only a spiritual interpretation of prophecy and a valuation of Jesus which owes nothing to flesh and blood that can see in Him One of whom all the Prophets bore witness. It is to these other conceptions, to which the spiritual intuition of Jesus led Him in His search for support for His Messianic ideals, that we must now turn. The first of these in importance is undoubtedly "the Servant of the Lord." We saw when examining this idea that it was an ideal of a nation rather than of an individual, and yet it was upon this that Jesus fixed, and it was this idea that seemed to mould His whole conception of His mission. According to Luke, the first discourse of Jesus took place in the Synagogue at Nazareth, where He set forth His programme and policy, and stated them to be identical with those the prophet had outlined for the nation centuries before (Luke iv. 16-21; Isa. lxi. 1, 2); and the evangelist Matthew sees in the methods of Jesus a fulfilment of the prophecy of the Servant (Matt. xii. 18-21; Isa. xlii. 1-4). It was probably as Jesus saw the clouds gather about His life and disaster began to threaten that He was led to study the career of that Servant and see that it involved suffering, being despised and rejected of men; and so He came to find the key to the mystery of His Cross in that classic of the vicarious life, the fifty-third chapter of Isaiah. Jesus was probably the first to interpret that passage in a Messianic sense. His reason for adopting the title of "the Son of Man" is exceedingly difficult to trace; it may be said that no completely satisfactory explanation of the origin or meaning of the term has yet been discovered, and in the present state of research on the subject it would be folly to commit ourselves to any of the theories that have been propounded. We can only keep in mind the various facts, which the use of this title in the Gospels presents to us. It is clear that Jesus did not intend the title to be a declaration to the world that He had accepted the Messianic call; for all along it was His deliberate purpose to conceal His Messiahship, and for reasons that are obvious, when we consider the difference between His conception of Messianic function and that of the Jews of His day. Again, although there is a slight difference between Daniel, where we only hear of "one like unto a son of man," and Jesus who calls Himself "_the_ son of man," yet when challenged by the high-priest Jesus certainly quotes from Daniel (Dan. vii. 13; Mark xiv. 62). Now in Daniel it is not a person who is figured by this title, so much as a humane kingdom which is to replace the kingdoms that were more like beasts in their character. It is only in the Book of Enoch that the Son of Man is definitely identified with the Messiah. Did Jesus ever read that Book, or were its ideas at all commonly known? If so we should have to concede that the Son of Man meant the Messiah, both to Jesus and to the people, and yet this is an apparent contradiction of His general motive in keeping the Messiahship secret. Perhaps, and the suggestion is made with the knowledge that in the present state of the problem it can be nothing more than a suggestion, there is a line that has not been exhausted, and along which help may yet be found. It starts from the fact that Jesus seems to have adopted the _character_ of the Servant of the Lord under the _name_ of the Son of Man; and we have seen that both these are ideals of a community or a nation rather than of a person. Again, that somehow the title "the Son of Man" had Messianic significance, and in the mind of Jesus was connected with the figure in Daniel, is seen from His confession before Caiaphas. The contradiction between these facts and the purpose of concealing His Messiahship can perhaps be solved by noticing that Jesus never explicitly identifies Himself with the Son of Man; and if all the passages where this title is found in the Synoptics are examined, they seem to separate themselves into three distinct groups: (1) where the reference might be not only to Jesus Himself but to Man fulfilling his ideal; (2) where the reference is to the suffering which the Son of Man must undergo; (3) and most important, this term is always used when Jesus speaks of that mysterious return on the clouds which is known as the Second Advent. The conclusion to which it is suggested all these facts point is that although Jesus believed Himself to be the personal centre on which the Messianic hope converged, it was not to Himself personally, but to the new humanity which His Spirit should beget, that He looked for the complete fulfilment of the Messianic hope. Thus at least are linked together the fact that the Prophets are occupied rather with the Messianic community than with the Messiah, and the fact that Jesus made the centre and aim of His teaching the Kingdom rather than its personal embodiment in Himself. Jesus certainly read these Prophets more according to their real inwardness than any of His contemporaries or than many generations of Christian scholars; and there is no better preparation for the serious study of the Gospels than a careful examination of the growing revelation of the Old Testament religion, and the inner meaning of the Messianic hope. Of this wonderful growth and moving revelation, it can be said, in a way deeper than the old typological and prophetic methods of study could understand, that Christ is the aim and the goal; not only Jesus of Nazareth with His unique Personality, but that still more transcendent mystery, the Christ within the heart, Christ the head of every man. If we have learned nothing else, surely we have learned this: that behind the hopes of mankind, behind their misty dreams, their gropings after truth, their struggles for righteousness, are the eternal thoughts of God; and although these may transcend their poor reflection in the mind of man, as the heavens the earth, yet this remains: that for every hope implanted, there is an answer beyond our expectation; for every desire Godward, the revelation of the Father-friend; for every ideal of the human heart, the Christ; and for every effort after human progress, the ever nearer coming of the Kingdom of God. INDEX Abraham, emigration of, 23; historicity of, 36; religion of, 31, 34 _Adonai_, 60 Ahijah, 117 Altars, erected anywhere, 98; construction of, 200 Amaziah, 118 Amos, 98, 118, 136, 148, 152, 159, 271 Animals, as tribal names, 39; clean and unclean, 40; worship of, 26, 39, 68, 124 Animism, 40, 41 Apostasy, 90, 129 Arabia, home of Semites, 20, 22 Ark, 69, 70, 121, 180 Armageddon, 272 Aryan conception of God, 25 Asaph, 222, 225 Asherah, 46 Ashtoreth, or _Ashtart_, 94 Assembly of the saints, 223 Assyria, 156, 160, 161 Atonement, 102, 208; of Christ, 210, 211; Day of, 177, 178 Azazel, 42, 207, 208 Baal, 38, 92, 96, 98 Baal of Tyre, 94, 109, 125. See also under Melkart Babylon, fall of, 185; Jews in, 169-174, 179, 185, 204 Babylonian epic of Creation, 205; influence of, 204-206 Babylonian religion, 186 Balaam, prophecy of, 271 Ban, the, 49 Blood, significance of, 26, 208; food of deity, 48 Book of the Covenant, 200 _Bosheth_, 94, 97 Bull-worship, 68, 98, 124 Calf-worship. See under Bull Canaan, influence of, 27, 83-86, 170; conquest of, 82, 86, 87; Jewish love for, 83; limitations of, 84 Canaanites, customs of, borrowed, 92, 98; origin of, 23, 24; religion of, 38, 92-95; sanctuaries of, 98, 158, 163; why not exterminated, 90; and Hebrews, 87 Centralization of worship, 144, 157, 163 Chemosh, 43 Choice of Israel, Jehovah's, 75; prophetic conception of, 156, 187 Christ the goal of Old Testament, 282. And see under Jesus Christianity, 101, 274 Chronicler, the, 221 Circumcision, 50, 180 Comparative religion, 38 Conditions of life among Semites, 20; in time of Judges, 87; after exile, 196, 232; in time of Psalms, 226, 231, 232; reflected in Wisdom lit., 247; in Ecclesiastes, 259; in Messianic age, 273 Covenant at Sinai, 58, 65; prophetic conception of, 76, 157, 267 Covenant-sacrifice, 49, 63 Creation, 186, 205; Babylonian legend of, 205 Customs retained with new significance, 39, 50, 176 Customs, mourning, 40 Cyrus, 183, 185, 268 Daniel, Book of, 141 David, character of, 119, 121, 229; influence of, 120; his kingdom, 88, 120; a poet, 119; his religious ideas, 121; his work, 120; and the Messiah, 270, 275 Day of Atonement, 177; of the Lord, 271; of judgment, 272 Deborah, Song of, 88 Decalogue, the, 74 Deluge, the, 206 Deuteronomy, Book of, 145, 157, 162, 200 Development of Religion, xiv, 27, 37, 79, 86, 99, 128, 129, 131, 142, 215, 282 Director's Psalm Book, 220 Documents, various, how detected, 33, 194, 199 "E," 30, 142, 194 Ecclesiastes, name, 258; Book of, 260; ascribed to Solomon, 258; significance of, 262 El, 37, 59 Elijah, 98, 99, 106, 114, 125, 126, 136, 148 Elisha, 113, 114, 125, 128 _Elohim_, 30, 42, 222 Ephod, 67, 100 Ethical conceptions, 127, 152, 155, 158, 244, 249 Ethnology of Old Testament, 18 Exile, date of, 134, 168; cause of, 171, 176; critical view of, 171, 172; lessons from, 190; religion after, 230 Exilic stamp on literature, 172 Exodus, the, 58; date of, 24, 82 Ezekiel, 169, 174, 175, 178, 195; Book of, 174, 177; his school, 195; and Leviticus, 172, 177 Ezra, 181; introduces the Law, 196, 197; what did it include? 198, 200 Feast of Tabernacles, 197, 198 Forgiveness, 207, 233 Funeral feasts, 41 Gad, 117 God, name of. See under _Elohim_, El and Jehovah God, conception of, Semitic, 25, 26; Aryan, 25; anthropomorphic, 48, 66, 155; ethical, 96, 155, 211; local, 43, 52, 62, 75, 96; spiritual, 155; tribal, 26, 32, 75; materialistic, 69, 70; as the Storm God, 70; as the Creator, 186 God, conception of, by David, 26; by Prophets, 154, 155, 175, 186; by Psalmists, 236; in Job, 256; in Ecclesiastes, 261 God, holiness of, 175, 207; jealousy of, 76; righteousness of, 77, 155, 232 _Habiri_, 24, 82 Hallel Psalms, 223 Hammurabi, code of, 73, 203, 204 Heathen deities, 42, 43, 66, 154 Hebrew, meaning of name, 23 Hebrew Bible, divisions of, 141 Hebrews, relation to other nations, 18, 19, 22, 24, 85, 156 Heroes of Israel, 85 Hexateuch, 200 High places, worship at, condemned, 173. See also Canaanitish sanctuaries Higher criticism, xi, xii Historical value of Hebrew tradition, 32, 183, 228, 229, 245, 247 Historical books, Prophets' influence on, 114, 141, 142 History, ancient conception of, xiii, 32, 51, 145, 163; how compiled, 114, 142, 143; religious interpretation of, 90, 101, 129, 171, 176, 187, 189. See also under Redaction Hittites, 23 Holiness, 175, 207, 236; code of, 200 Horeb, Theophany at, 126, 128 Hosea, 159 Human sacrifice, 48, 49, 95 Ideal Israel, 188 Idolatry and images, 37, 45, 67, 68, 70, 154, 176, 180, 186, 247 Immortality in Psalms, 34, 35; in Job, 256; in Ecclesiastes, 261, 262 Inspiration, xiii, 129, 206, 231; how related to infallibility, xiii, xiv Interpolations, 146 Isaiah, 160, 295; Book of, 147, 156; authorship of, 147, 182-185 Israel. See under Hebrews "J," 30, 32, 194 Jehovah, name, 59; pronunciation, 60, 62; explanation of, 61 Jehovah and other nations, 156; and Baal, 97, 98; and Israel, 44 Jehovah, religion of, date, 31, 34, 65; weakness of, 92, 95, 96; prophetic conception of, 154, 155; a religion of choice, 65, 75 Jehovah. See also under God Jeremiah, 154, 164, 188 Jeroboam, 124 Jerusalem, connection with David, 120; idea of inviolability, 161, 169, 170; besieged by Sennacherib, 161; deliverance of, 161; besieged by Nebuchadrezzar, 170; destruction of, 169, 170 Jesus and Messiahship, 266, 276, 278, 280, 281; and new covenant, 77; and Levitical system, 210; and Revelation, xv, 77; and Prophets, 273, 282; and Psalms, 231, 232, 234; and Proverbs, 250; and Isa. liii., 189; and Book of Daniel, 280, 281; and Book of Enoch, 280; and Old Testament, x Jethro, 62 Jews. See under Hebrews Job, 251; Book of, 250; date of, 251, 252; author, 251, 254, 255; divisions of, 253 Jonah, Book of, 156, 189 Joshua, Book of, 82, 86, 87 Josiah, reform of, 162, 163, 200 Judah, tribe of, 89 Judaism, 178 Judges, functions of, 91; Book of, 82, 87, 88, 90, 144 Kenites, 64 King. See under Monarchy and Messiah Kingdom of God, 28, 127, 131, 171, 273, 282 Korah, sons of, 225 Law, origin of, 173; of Moses, 196-198; later than Prophets, 137, 158; no observance of, until after exile, 54, 172, 199. See also under Pentateuch and Moses Levi, tribe of, 89 Levite choirs, 221 Levites, 71; distinguished from priests, 177 Levitical system, 208; intention of, 209 Leviticus, Book of, 157, 158, 172 Literary ideals, 146, 163, 251, 259 Localization of God, 43, 96, 103 Local sanctuaries, 58, 59 Lower criticism, xi Maccabees, the, 223, 224; times of, 221; Psalms of, 224, 226 Manasseh, 162 _Mazzebah_, the, 45 Melkart, 94, 95, 125. See also Baal of Tyre Memorial stones, 37, 44 Messiah, name, 274; title, 276; Davidic descent of, 275, 277 Messiah in the Prophets, 269, 276; in Apocrypha, 264 Messiah as Prophet, 269; Priest, 270; King, 270, 275 Messianic age, 151, 270, 273 Messianic King, 228 Messianic prophecy, 266, 267, 269-271, 275-277; includes more than a person, 267, 271, 281 Micah, 160, 277 Micaiah, 128 Midian, 64 Molech, 95, 96 Monarchy, origin of, 97, 106, 118; in Psalms, 228; in Proverbs, 247, 248 Monotheism among Semites, 25; Hebrews, 39, 43; not taught by Moses, 66; in the Prophets, 42, 154, 186 Moses, name, 57; historical reality, 55, 57; his call, 58, 63; mention before exile, 56; not author of Pentateuch, 54, 57. See also under Law, and Pentateuch Music and prophecy, 112 Musical directions in Psalter, 218-220 Musical services, 223 Nathan, 117, 122, 275 Nature in Psalter, 236 Nazarites, 114 Nebuchadrezzar, 169 Necromancy, 39 Nehustan, 68 New Covenant, the, 165 New Testament, Psalms quoted in, 229 New Testament and Old Testament, 266. See also under Christianity, and Jesus Old Testament, attitude of Jesus to, x; Jewish reverence for, x. See also under Hebrew Bible Oracles, 27, 46, 47, 68, 77, 100 Origin of religion, 51, 62 "P," 194. See under Priestly Code Palestine. See under Canaan Particularism, 155, 186, 191, 273 Passover, the, 49 Patriarchs, historicity of, 35 Pentateuch, strata of, 30, 194, 199, 200; how discovered, 34, 194, 199; not by Moses, 54, 73; Samaritan, 201. See also under Law, and Moses Personal conception of religion, 154, 166, 232, 233, 235, 237 Personalities, influence of, on history, 268 Personification, 186, 189, 232, 246, 252, 253 Pharaoh of the Exodus, 82 Philistines, 24, 97 Philo, 242, 246 Philosophy, 21, 246, 252 Phoenicians, 20, 23 Poetry, sign of early date, 18, 69, 88; of David, 119, 228; in Prophets, 153; in Psalms, 236; in Proverbs, 245 Polytheism among Semites, 25; among Hebrews, 37; the religion of savages, 41; in original documents, 41; evidence of, 42 Prayer, 216, 231 Prediction, 137, 151, 182, 183, 266, 278 Priesthood, 63; in time of Moses, 71, 111, 202; in time of Judges, 54,68, 100; in Ezekiel, 177; after exile, 209; of Messiah, 270. See also under Levites Priestly code, the, 200-202; ideals of, 206, 210. See also under Levitical system Priestly school, the, 196, 206 Problem of Providence, 234, 250, 253, 257, 259, 260 Problem of suffering, 187, 243, 251, 253, 257, 258, 262 Progress, causes of, 75, 97, 102. See under Development Prophesying, 112 Prophet, name of, 109, 110 Prophetic bands, 106, 112, 125 Prophetic consciousness, 149, 150 Prophetic literature, how compiled, 145, 146, 152 Prophetic style, 114, 145, 150, 153, 185 Prophets, origin of, 106; two classes, 108, 111, 149, 153; conflict between, 113, 128; their call, 148; their relation to State, 117, 127, 153; and national religion, 136, 149; and the Covenant, 139, 157; chronology of, 134; their place in history, 137; importance of, for criticism, xii, 137, 138; their picture of their age, 138, 139; they are creative, 135; their relation to the Law, 137, 139, 140, 143, 164, 215; and the Gospel, 136, 137, 138; their scheme of the future, 151, 272 Protestantism, 131 Protevangelium, the, 270 Proverb, the, 245 Proverbs, Book of, 245; its relation to Job, 240, 252; divisions of, 245; date of, 247 Psalms, titles of, 214, 218, 219, 224, 225, 228; ascription to David, 214, 218, 221, 222, 225-229; authorship of, 224, 225; some are prayers, 216; use in synagogue, 216; in the temple, 216, 218; Hallels, 223; Maccabæan, 224, 226; tone of, 217; imprecations in, 217, 231, 232; and the Gospel, 215; and Christianity, 216; their conception of God, 225, 236 Psalter, the, criticism of, 217, 218; date of, 221, 225-227, 229, 231; Books of, 221; a gradual compilation, 218, 221 Queen of Heaven, 95 Rahab, 205 Rechabites, 115 Redaction, 144, 145, 173, 215, 218 Reform, 107; of Elijah, 126; of Prophets, 139; under Josiah, 144, 162, 163; after exile, 180, 181; under Ezra, 196, 200 Religion, origin of, 38, 78; primitive, 32, 39, 40, 42, 43; Semitic, 25; of Patriarchs, 31, 32, 34, 36, 37, 65; in time of Moses, 54; in time of Judges, 67, 71; of Canaanites, 92-95; under monarchy, 108, 112, 158; after exile, 179, 181; Levitical conception of, 209, 210; of Psalmists, 230, 231-235; in Wisdom lit., 242, 244; in Proverbs, 249; in Job, 255; in Ecclesiastes, 261; of the future, 265, 268, 273 Repentance, 173, 178 Restoration, the, 181, 182 Retribution, 250, 262. And see under Problem of Providence Revelation, xiii, 51, 63, 66, 78, 79, 231 Ritual, 157, 209, 211 Sabbath, 168, 179 Sacred springs, 47 Sacred stones, 44 Sacred trees, 46 Sacrifice, primitive, 47, 48; adopted by Moses, 72; covenant, 49, 63; human, 48, 49; Prophetic estimate of, 72, 158; in "P," 202, 207; meaning of, 207, 208; of Christ, 210, 211. See also under Atonement Samaria, fall of, 134, 160 Samson, 115 Samuel, 106, 111, 113, 114, 119 Satan, 255, 266 Saul, 111, 112, 119 Scepticism, 248, 260, 261 Science, 21, 131, 237 Second Isaiah, 147, 180. See also under Isaiah Seer, 100 Selah, 219, 220 Semites, home of, 20; desert life, 20; Western antipathy to, 21; their contribution to thought, 21; to science, 21; to religion, 22; groups of, 22; migrations of, 22 Semitic character of our Bible, 25 Semitic language, 19 Semitic religion, 25, 26; tribal, 26; value of, 27; does not account for Hebrew religion, 25, 31 Sennacherib, 160 Servant of the Lord, 187, 188, 269, 278, 280; the suffering, 187, 279 Shekel, temple, 197, 199 Shewbread, 48 Shiloh, 271 Simeon, tribe of, 89 Simon Maccabæus, 224 Sin, 176, 207, 209, 232, 233 Sin-offering, the, 207 Sinai, 58, 62, 64, 65 Social conceptions, 127, 158, 159 Solomon, 88, 122, 224, 225; Proverbs ascribed to, 245, 246, 248; and Ecclesiastes, 259 Son of Man, the, title of, 279-281 Sons of the Prophets, 106, 110-112. See also under Prophetic bands Substitution, 208, 209 Supernatural, the, 79 Symbolism, 208, 209 Synagogue, the, 180, 181, 216 Syncretism, 92, 97, 99, 101, 102, 107 Tabernacle, the, 72, 73, 202 Tabernacles, Feast of, 197, 198 _Tehom_, _Tiamat_, 205 Tel-el-Amarna, tablets, 24, 82 Temple, the, 122-124, 162, 164, 177, 202; worship of, 220, 230; mentioned in Psalms, 226, 227 _Torah_, 100 Totemism, 39 Tradition, Jewish, 229 Tribes, names of, 40; unity of, 88, 91 Universalism, 155, 156, 186, 190, 191, 242, 274 Virgin birth, the, 276 Wisdom, 243, 246, 249, 261 Wisdom literature, 241; compared with rest of Bible, 243-244; date of, 245 Wise men, the, 244, 248 Worship, prophetic conception of, 157; of synagogue, 181; of temple, 220, 230. And see under Altars, Religion, God, and Sacrifice Zechariah, Book of, 134, 147 BRADBURY, AGNEW, & CO. LD., PRINTERS, LONDON AND TONBRIDGE. Transcribers' Notes: Cover created by Transcriber and placed in the Public Domain. Punctuation, hyphenation, and spelling were made consistent when a predominant preference was found in this book; otherwise they were not changed. Simple typographical errors were corrected; occasional unbalanced quotation marks retained. Ambiguous hyphens at the ends of lines were retained. Missing periods at the ends of the Roman numbers of Biblical citations have been added. Index not checked for proper alphabetization or correct page references, but on page 285, reference to page 295 under "Isaiah" should be to page 195. Page 208: "how this is affected" perhaps should be "effected". Page 288: "BRADBURY, AGNEW, & CO. LD." was printed that way, as "LD." 
46476	----	John Fiske's Writings. =MYTHS AND MYTH-MAKERS=: Old Tales and Superstitions interpreted by Comparative Mythology. 12mo, $2.00. =OUTLINES OF COSMIC PHILOSOPHY.= Based on the Doctrines of Evolution, with Criticisms on the Positive Philosophy. In two volumes, 8vo, $6.00. =THE UNSEEN WORLD=, and other Essays. 12mo, $2.00. =EXCURSIONS OF AN EVOLUTIONIST.= 12mo, $2.00. =DARWINISM=, and other Essays. 12mo, $2.00. =THE DESTINY OF MAN=, viewed in the Light of His Origin. 16mo, $1.00. =THE IDEA OF GOD=, as affected by Modern Knowledge. A Sequel to "The Destiny of Man." 16mo, $1.00. [asterism] _For sale by all Booksellers. Sent by mail, post-paid, on receipt of price, by the Publishers_, HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN & CO., BOSTON. =AMERICAN POLITICAL IDEAS=, viewed from the Stand-point of Universal History. 12mo, $1.00. HARPER & BROTHERS, New York. THE IDEA OF GOD AS AFFECTED BY MODERN KNOWLEDGE [Illustration; Decorative symbol] BY JOHN FISKE [Illustration; Decorative panel] BOSTON AND NEW YORK HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN AND COMPANY The Riverside Press, Cambridge 1886 Copyright, 1885, BY JOHN FISKE. _All rights reserved._ _The Riverside Press, Cambridge_: Electrotyped and Printed by H. O. Houghton & Co. To MY WIFE, IN REMEMBRANCE OF THE SWEET SUNDAY MORNING UNDER THE APPLE-TREE ON THE HILLSIDE, WHEN WE TWO SAT LOOKING DOWN INTO FAIRY WOODLAND PATHS, AND TALKED OF THE THINGS SINCE WRITTEN IN THIS LITTLE BOOK, I now dedicate it. * * * * * +Arghyrion kai chrysion ouch hyparchei moi; ho de echô, touto soi didômi.+ PREFACE When asked to give a second address before the Concord School of Philosophy, I gladly accepted the invitation, as affording a proper occasion for saying certain things which I had for some time wished to say about theism. My address was designed to introduce the discussion of the question whether pantheism is the legitimate outcome of modern science. It seemed to me that the object might best be attained by passing in review the various modifications which the idea of God has undergone in the past, and pointing out the shape in which it is likely to survive the rapid growth of modern knowledge, and especially the establishment of that great doctrine of evolution which is fast obliging us to revise our opinions upon all subjects whatsoever. Having thus in the text outlined the idea of God most likely to be conceived by minds trained in the doctrine of evolution, I left it for further discussion to decide whether the term "pantheism" can properly be applied to such a conception. While much enlightenment may be got from carefully describing the substance of a philosophic doctrine, very little can be gained by merely affixing to it a label; and I could not but feel that my argument would be simply encumbered by the introduction of any question of nomenclature involving such a vague and uninstructive epithet as "pantheism." Such epithets are often regarded with favour and freely used, as seeming to obviate the necessity for that kind of labour to which most people are most averse,--the labour of sustained and accurate thinking. People are too apt to make such general terms do duty in place of a careful examination of facts, and are thus sometimes led to strange conclusions. When, for example, they have heard somebody called an "agnostic," they at once think they know all about him; whereas they have very likely learned nothing that is of the slightest value in characterizing his opinions or his mental attitude. A term that can be applied at once to a Comte, a Mansel, and a Huxley is obviously of little use in the matter of definition. But, it may be asked, in spite of their world-wide differences, do not these three thinkers agree in holding that nothing can be known about the nature of God? Perhaps so,--one cannot answer even this plain question with an unqualified yes; but, granting that they fully agree in this assertion of ignorance, nevertheless, in their philosophic attitudes with regard to this ignorance, in the use they severally make of the assertion, in the way it determines their inferences about all manner of other things, the differences are so vast that nothing but mental confusion can come from a terminology which would content itself by applying to all three the common epithet "agnostic." The case is similar with such a word as "pantheism," which has been familiarly applied to so many utterly diverse systems of thought that it is very hard to tell just what it means. It has been equally applied to the doctrine of "the Hindu philosophers of the orthodox Brahmanical schools," who "hold that all finite existence is an illusion, and life mere vexation and mistake, a blunder or sorry jest of the Absolute;" and to the doctrine of the Stoics, who "went to the other extreme, and held that the universe was the product of perfect reason and in an absolute sense good." (Pollock's "Spinoza," p. 356.) In recent times it has been commonly used as a vituperative epithet, and hurled indiscriminately at such unpopular opinions as do not seem to call for so heavy a missile as the more cruel term "atheism." The writer who sets forth in plain scientific language a physical theory of the universe is liable to be scowled at and called an atheist; but, when the very same ideas are presented in the form of oracular apophthegm or poetic rhapsody, the author is more gently described as "tinctured with pantheism." But out of the chaos of vagueness in which this unhappy word has been immersed it is perhaps still possible to extract something like a definite meaning. In the broadest sense there are three possible ways in which we may contemplate the universe. _First_, we may regard the world of phenomena as sufficient unto itself, and deny that it needs to be referred to any underlying and all-comprehensive unity. Nothing has an ultimate origin or destiny; there is no dramatic tendency in the succession of events, nor any ultimate law to which everything must be referred; there is no reasonableness in the universe save that with which human fancy unwarrantably endows it; the events of the world have no orderly progression like the scenes of a well-constructed plot, but in the manner of their coming and going they constitute simply what Chauncey Wright so aptly called "cosmical weather;" they drift and eddy about in an utterly blind and irrational manner, though now and then evolving, as if by accident, temporary combinations which have to us a rational appearance. This is Atheism, pure and unqualified. It recognizes no Omnipresent Energy. _Secondly_, we may hold that the world of phenomena is utterly unintelligible unless referred to an underlying and all-comprehensive unity. All things are manifestations of an Omnipresent Energy which cannot be in any imaginable sense personal or anthropomorphic; out from this eternal source of phenomena all individualities proceed, and into it they must all ultimately return and be absorbed; the events of the world have an orderly progression, but not toward any goal recognizable by us; in the process of evolution there is nothing that from any point of view can be called teleological; the beginning and end of things--that which is Alpha and Omega--is merely an inscrutable essence, a formless void. Such a view as this may properly be called Pantheism. It recognizes an Omnipresent Energy, but virtually identifies it with the totality of things. _Thirdly_, we may hold that the world of phenomena is intelligible only when regarded as the multiform manifestation of an Omnipresent Energy that is in some way--albeit in a way quite above our finite comprehension--anthropomorphic or quasi-personal. There is a true objective reasonableness in the universe; its events have an orderly progression, and, so far as those events are brought sufficiently within our ken for us to generalize them exhaustively, their progression is toward a goal that is recognizable by human intelligence; "the process of evolution is itself the working out of a mighty Teleology of which our finite understandings can fathom but the scantiest rudiments" ("Cosmic Philosophy," vol. ii. p. 406); it is indeed but imperfectly that we can describe the dramatic tendency in the succession of events, but we can see enough to assure us of the fundamental fact that there is such a tendency; and this tendency is the objective aspect of that which, when regarded on its subjective side, we call Purpose. Such a theory of things is Theism. It recognizes an Omnipresent Energy, which is none other than the living God. It is this theistic doctrine which I hold myself, and which in the present essay I have sought to exhibit as the legitimate outcome of modern scientific thought. I was glad to have such an excellent occasion for returning to the subject as the invitation from Concord gave me, because in a former attempt to expound the same doctrine I do not seem to have succeeded in making myself understood. In my "Outlines of Cosmic Philosophy," published in 1874, I endeavoured to set forth a theory of theism identical with that which is set forth in the present essay. But an acute and learned friend, writing under the pseudonym of "Physicus," in his "Candid Examination of Theism" (London, 1878), thus criticizes my theory: In it, he says, "while I am able to discern the elements which I think may properly be regarded as common to Theism and to Atheism, I am not able to discern any single element that is specifically distinctive of Theism" (p. 145). The reason for the inability of "Physicus" to discern any such specifically distinctive element is that he misunderstands me as proposing to divest the theistic idea of every shred of anthropomorphism, while still calling it a theistic idea. This, he thinks, would be an utterly illegitimate proceeding, and I quite agree with him. In similar wise my friend Mr. Frederick Pollock, in his admirable work on Spinoza (London, 1880), observes that "Mr. Fiske's doctrine excludes the belief in a so-called Personal God, and the particular forms of religious emotion dependent on it" (p. 356). If the first part of this sentence stood alone, I might pause to inquire how much latitude of meaning may be conveyed in the expression "so-called;" is it meant that I exclude the belief in a Personal God as it was held by Augustine and Paley, or as it was held by Clement and Schleiermacher, or both? But the second clause of the sentence seems to furnish the answer; it seems to imply that I would practically do away with Theism altogether. Such a serious misstatement of my position, made in perfect good faith by two thinkers so conspicuous for ability and candour, shows that, in spite of all the elaborate care with which the case was stated in "Cosmic Philosophy," some further explanation is needed. It is true that there are expressions in that work which, taken singly and by themselves, might seem to imply a total rejection of theism. Such expressions occur chiefly in the chapter entitled "Anthropomorphic Theism," where great pains are taken to show the inadequacy of the Paley argument from design, and to point out the insuperable difficulties in which we are entangled by the conception of a Personal God as it is held by the great majority of modern theologians who have derived it from Plato and Augustine. In the succeeding chapters, however, it is expressly argued that the total elimination of anthropomorphism from the idea of God is impossible. There are some who, recognizing that the ideas of Personality and Infinity are unthinkable in combination, seek to escape the difficulty by speaking of God as the "Infinite Power;" that is, instead of a symbol derived from our notion of human consciousness, they employ a symbol derived from our notion of force in general. For many philosophic purposes the device is eminently useful; but it should not be forgotten that, while the form of our experience of Personality does not allow us to conceive it as infinite, it is equally true that the form of our experience of Force does not allow us to conceive it as infinite, since we know force only as antagonized by other force. Since, moreover, our notion of force is purely a generalization from our subjective sensations of effort overcoming resistance, there is scarcely less anthropomorphism lurking in the phrase "Infinite Power" than in the phrase "Infinite Person." Now in "Cosmic Philosophy" I argue that the presence of God is the one all-pervading fact of life, from which there is no escape; that while in the deepest sense the nature of Deity is unknowable by finite Man, nevertheless the exigencies of our thinking oblige us to symbolize that nature in some form that has a real meaning for us; and that we cannot symbolize that nature as in any wise physical, but are bound to symbolize it as in some way psychical. I do not here repeat the arguments, but simply state the conclusions. The final conclusion (vol. ii. p. 449) is that we must not say that "God is Force," since such a phrase inevitably calls up those pantheistic notions of blind necessity, which it is my express desire to avoid; but, always bearing in mind the symbolic character of the words, we may say that "God is Spirit." How my belief in the personality of God could be more strongly expressed without entirely deserting the language of modern philosophy and taking refuge in pure mythology, I am unable to see. There are two points in the present essay which I hope will serve to define more completely the kind of theism which I have tried to present as compatible with the doctrine of evolution. One is the historic contrast between anthropomorphic and cosmic theism regarded in their modes of genesis, and especially as exemplified within the Christian church in the very different methods and results of Augustine on the one hand and Athanasius on the other. The view which I have ventured to designate as "cosmic theism" is no invention of mine; in its most essential features it has been entertained by some of the profoundest thinkers of Christendom in ancient and modern times, from Clement of Alexandria to Lessing and Goethe and Schleiermacher. The other point is the teleological inference drawn from the argument of my first Concord address on "The Destiny of Man, viewed in the Light of his Origin." When that address was published, a year ago, I was surprised to find it quite commonly regarded as indicating some radical change of attitude on my part,--a "conversion," perhaps, from one set of opinions to another. Inasmuch as the argument in the "Destiny of Man" was based in every one of its parts upon arguments already published in "Cosmic Philosophy" (1874), and in the "Unseen World" (1876), I naturally could not understand why the later book should impress people so differently from the earlier ones. It presently appeared, however, that none of my friends who had studied the earlier books had detected any such change of attitude; it was only people who knew little or nothing about me, or else the newspapers. Whence the inference seemed obvious that many readers of the "Destiny of Man" must have contrasted it, not with my earlier books which they had not read, but with some vague and distorted notion about my views which had grown up (Heaven knows how or why!) through the medium of "the press;" and thus there might have been produced the impression that those views had undergone a radical change. It would be little to my credit, however, had my views of the doctrine of evolution and its implications undergone no development or enlargement since the publication of "Cosmic Philosophy." To carry such a subject about in one's mind for ten years, without having any new thoughts about it, would hardly be a proof of fitness for philosophizing. I have for some time been aware of a shortcoming in the earlier work, which it is the purpose of these two Concord addresses in some measure to remedy. That shortcoming was an imperfect appreciation of the goal toward which the process of evolution is tending, and a consequent failure to state adequately how the doctrine of evolution must affect our estimate of Man's place in Nature. Nothing of fundamental importance in "Cosmic Philosophy" needed changing, but a new chapter needed to be written, in order to show how the doctrine of evolution, by exhibiting the development of the highest spiritual human qualities as the goal toward which God's creative work has from the outset been tending, replaces Man in his old position of headship in the universe, even as in the days of Dante and Aquinas. That which the pre-Copernican astronomy naively thought to do by placing the home of Man in the centre of the physical universe, the Darwinian biology profoundly accomplishes by exhibiting Man as the terminal fact in that stupendous process of evolution whereby things have come to be what they are. In the deepest sense it is as true as it ever was held to be, that the world was made for Man, and that the bringing forth in him of those qualities which we call highest and holiest is the final cause of creation. The arguments upon which this conclusion rests, as they are set forth in the "Destiny of Man" and epitomized in the concluding section of the present essay, may all be found in "Cosmic Philosophy;" but I failed to sum them up there and indicate the conclusion, almost within reach, which I had not quite clearly seized. When, after long hovering in the background of consciousness, it suddenly flashed upon me two years ago, it came with such vividness as to seem like a revelation. This conclusion as to the implications of the doctrine of evolution concerning Man's place in Nature supplies the element wanting in the theistic theory set forth in "Cosmic Philosophy,"--the teleological element. It is profoundly true that a theory of things may seem theistic or atheistic in virtue of what it says of Man, no less than in virtue of what it says of God. The craving for a final cause is so deeply rooted in human nature that no doctrine of theism which fails to satisfy it can seem other than lame and ineffective. In writing "Cosmic Philosophy" I fully realized this when, in the midst of the argument against Paley's form of theism, I said that "the process of evolution is itself the working out of a mighty Teleology of which our finite understandings can fathom but the scantiest rudiments." Nevertheless, while the whole momentum of my thought carried me to the conviction that it must be so, I was not yet able to indicate _how_ it is so, and I accordingly left the subject with this brief and inadequate hint. Could the point have been worked out then and there, I think it would have left no doubt in the minds of "Physicus" and Mr. Pollock as to the true character of Cosmic Theism. But hold, cries the scientific inquirer, what in the world are you doing? Are we again to resuscitate the phantom Teleology, which we had supposed at last safely buried between cross-roads and pinned down with a stake? Was not Bacon right in characterizing "final causes" as vestal virgins, so barren has their study proved? And has not Huxley, with yet keener sarcasm, designated them the _hetairæ_ of philosophy, so often have they led men astray? Very true. I do not wish to take back a single word of all that I have said in my chapter on "Anthropomorphic Theism" in condemnation of the teleological method and the peculiar theistic doctrines upon which it rests. As a means of investigation it is absolutely worthless. Nay, it is worse than worthless; it is treacherous, it is debauching to the intellect. But that is no reason why, when a distinct dramatic tendency in the events of the universe appears as the _result_ of purely scientific investigation, we should refuse to recognize it. It is the object of the "Destiny of Man" to prove that there is such a dramatic tendency; and while such a tendency cannot be regarded as indicative of purpose in the limited anthropomorphic sense, it is still, as I said before, the objective aspect of that which, when regarded on its subjective side, we call Purpose. There is a reasonableness in the universe such as to indicate that the Infinite Power of which it is the multiform manifestation is psychical, though it is impossible to ascribe to Him any of the limited psychical attributes which we know, or to argue from the ways of Man to the ways of God. For, as St. Paul reminds us, "who hath known the mind of the Lord, or who hath been his counsellor?" It is in this sense that I accept Mr. Spencer's doctrine of the Unknowable. How far my interpretation agrees with his own I do not undertake to say. On such an abstruse matter it is best that one should simply speak for one's self. But in his recent essay on "Retrogressive Religion" he uses expressions which imply a doctrine of theism essentially similar to that here maintained. The "infinite and eternal Energy from which all things proceed," and which is the same power that "in ourselves wells up under the form of consciousness," is certainly the power which is here recognized as God. The term "Unknowable" I have carefully refrained from using; it does not occur in the text of this essay. It describes only one aspect of Deity, but it has been seized upon by shallow writers of every school, treated as if fully synonymous with Deity, and made the theme of the most dismal twaddle that the world has been deluged with since the days of mediæval scholasticism. The latest instance is the wretched positivist rubbish which Mr. Frederic Harrison has mistaken for criticism, and to which it is almost a pity that Mr. Spencer should have felt called upon to waste his valuable time in replying. That which Mr. Spencer throughout all his works regards as the All-Being, the Power of which "our lives, alike physical and mental, in common with all the activities, organic and inorganic, amid which we live, are but the workings,"--this omnipresent Power it pleases Mr. Harrison to call the "All-Nothingness," to describe it as "a logical formula begotten in controversy, dwelling apart from man and the world" (whatever all that may mean), and to imagine its worshippers as thus addressing it in prayer, "O _x_^n, love us, help us, make us one with thee!" If Mr. Harrison's aim were to understand, rather than to misrepresent, the religious attitude which goes with such a conception of Deity as Mr. Spencer's, he could nowhere find it more happily expressed than in these wonderful lines of Goethe:-- "Weltseele, komm, uns zu durchdringen! Dann mit dem Weltgeist selbst zu ringen Wird unsrer Kräfte Hochberuf. Theilnehmend führen gute Geister, Gelinde leitend, höchste Meister, Zu dem der alles schafft und schuf." Mr. Harrison is enabled to perform his antics simply because he happens to have such a word as "Unknowable" to play with. Yet the word which has been put to such unseemly uses is, when properly understood, of the highest value in theistic philosophy. That Deity _per se_ is not only unknown but unknowable is a truth which Mr. Spencer has illustrated with all the resources of that psychologic analysis of which he is incomparably the greatest master the world has ever seen; but it is not a truth which originated with him, or the demonstration of which is tantamount, as Mr. Harrison would have us believe, to the destruction of all religion. Among all the Christian theologians that have lived, there are few higher names than Athanasius, who also regarded Deity _per se_ as unknowable, being revealed to mankind only through incarnation in Christ. It is not as failing to recognize its value that I have refrained in this essay from using the term "Unknowable;" it is because so many false and stupid inferences have been drawn from Mr. Spencer's use of the word that it seemed worth while to show how a doctrine essentially similar to his might be expounded without introducing it. For further elucidation I will simply repeat in this connection what I wrote long ago: "It is enough to remind the reader that Deity is unknowable just in so far as it is not manifested to consciousness through the phenomenal world,--knowable just in so far as it is thus manifested: unknowable in so far as infinite and absolute,--knowable in the order of its phenomenal manifestations; knowable, in a symbolic way, as the Power which is disclosed in every throb of the mighty rhythmic life of the universe; knowable as the eternal Source of a Moral Law which is implicated with each action of our lives, and in obedience to which lies our only guaranty of the happiness which is incorruptible, and which neither inevitable misfortune nor unmerited obloquy can take away. Thus, though we may not by searching find out God, though we may not compass infinitude or attain to absolute knowledge, we may at least know all that it concerns us to know, as intelligent and responsible beings. They who seek to know more than this, to transcend the conditions under which alone is knowledge possible, are, in Goethe's profound language, as wise as little children who, when they have looked into a mirror, turn it around to see what is behind it." ("Cosmic Philosophy," vol. ii. p. 470.) * * * * * The present essay must be regarded as a sequel to the "Destiny of Man,"--so much so that the force of the argument in the concluding section can hardly be appreciated without reference to the other book. The two books, taken together, contain the bare outlines of a theory of religion which I earnestly hope at some future time to state elaborately in a work on the true nature of Christianity. Some such scheme had begun vaguely to dawn upon my mind when I was fourteen years old, and thought in the language of the rigid Calvinistic orthodoxy then prevalent in New England. After many and extensive changes of opinion, the idea assumed definite shape in the autumn of 1869, when I conceived the plan of a book to be entitled "Jesus of Nazareth and the Founding of Christianity,"--a work intended to deal on the one hand with the natural genesis of the complex aggregate of beliefs and aspirations known as Christianity, and on the other hand with the metamorphoses which are being wrought in this aggregate by modern knowledge and modern theories of the universe. Such a book, involving a treatment both historical and philosophical, requires long and varied preparation; and I have always regarded my other books, published from time to time, as simply wayside studies preliminary to the undertaking of this complicated and difficult task. While thus habitually shaping my work with reference to this cherished idea, I have written some things which are in a special sense related to it. The rude outlines of a very small portion of the historical treatment are contained in the essays on "The Jesus of History," and "The Christ of Dogma," published in the volume entitled "The Unseen World, and Other Essays." The outlines of the philosophical treatment are partially set forth in the "Destiny of Man" and in the present work. It amused me to see that almost every review of the "Destiny of Man" took pains to state that it was my Concord address "rewritten and expanded." Such trifles help one to understand the helter-skelter way in which more important things get said and believed. The "Destiny of Man" was printed exactly as it was delivered at Concord, without the addition, or subtraction, or alteration of a single word. The case is the same with the present work. PETERSHAM, _September 6, 1885_. CONTENTS. _I. Difficulty of expressing the Idea of God so that it can be readily understood_ _35_ _II. The Rapid Growth of Modern Knowledge_ _46_ _III. Sources of the Theistic Idea_ _62_ _IV. Development of Monotheism_ _72_ _V. The Idea of God as immanent in the World_ _81_ _VI. The Idea of God as remote from the World_ _87_ _VII. Conflict between the Two Ideas, commonly misunderstood as a Conflict between Religion and Science_ _97_ _VIII. Anthropomorphic Conceptions of God_ _111_ _IX. The Argument from Design_ _118_ _X. Simile of the Watch replaced by Simile of the Flower_ _128_ _XI. The Craving for a Final Cause_ _134_ _XII. Symbolic Conceptions_ _140_ _XIII. The Eternal Source of Phenomena_ _144_ _XIV. The Power that makes for Righteousness_ _158_ THE IDEA OF GOD. I. _Difficulty of expressing the Idea of God so that it can be readily understood._ In Goethe's great poem, while Faust is walking with Margaret at eventide in the garden, she asks him questions about his religion. It is long since he has been shriven or attended mass; does he, then, believe in God?--a question easy to answer with a simple yes, were it not for the form in which it is put. The great scholar and subtle thinker, who has delved in the deepest mines of philosophy and come forth weary and heavy-laden with their boasted treasures, has framed a very different conception of God from that entertained by the priest at the confessional or the altar, and how is he to make this intelligible to the simple-minded girl that walks by his side? Who will make bold to declare that he can grasp an idea of such overwhelming vastness as the idea of God, yet who that hath the feelings of a man can bring himself to cast away a belief that is indispensable to the rational and healthful workings of the mind? So long as the tranquil dome of heaven is raised above our heads and the firm-set earth is spread forth beneath our feet, while the everlasting stars course in their mighty orbits and the lover gazes with ineffable tenderness into the eyes of her that loves him, so long, says Faust, must our hearts go out toward Him that upholds and comprises all. Name or describe as we may the Sustainer of the world, the eternal fact remains there, far above our comprehension, yet clearest and most real of all facts. To name and describe it, to bring it within the formulas of theory or creed, is but to veil its glory as when the brightness of heaven is enshrouded in mist and smoke. This has a pleasant sound to Margaret's ears. It reminds her of what the parson sometimes says, though couched in very different phrases; and yet she remains uneasy and unsatisfied. Her mind is benumbed by the presence of an idea confessedly too great to be grasped. She feels the need of some concrete symbol that can be readily apprehended; and she hopes that her lover has not been learning bad lessons from Mephistopheles. The difficulty which here besets Margaret must doubtless have been felt by every one when confronted with the thoughts by which the highest human minds have endeavoured to disclose the hidden life of the universe and interpret its meaning. It is a difficulty which baffles many, and they who surmount it are few indeed. Most people content themselves through life with a set of concrete formulas concerning Deity, and vituperate as atheistic all conceptions which refuse to be compressed within the narrow limits of their creed. For the great mass of men the idea of God is quite overlaid and obscured by innumerable symbolic rites and doctrines that have grown up in the course of the long historic development of religion. All such rites and doctrines had a meaning once, beautiful and inspiring or terrible and forbidding, and many of them still retain it. But whether meaningless or fraught with significance, men have wildly clung to them as shipwrecked mariners cling to the drifting spars that alone give promise of rescue from threatening death. Such concrete symbols have in all ages been argued and fought for until they have come to seem the essentials of religion; and new moons and sabbaths, decrees of councils and articles of faith, have usurped the place of the living God. In every age the theory or discovery--however profoundly theistic in its real import--which has thrown discredit upon such symbols has been stigmatized as subversive of religion, and its adherents have been reviled and persecuted. It is, of course, inevitable that this should be so. To the half-educated mind a theory of divine action couched in the form of a legend, in which God is depicted as entertaining human purposes and swayed by human passions, is not only intelligible, but impressive. It awakens emotion, it speaks to the heart, it threatens the sinner with wrath to come or heals the wounded spirit with sweet whispers of consolation. However mythical the form in which it is presented, however literally false the statements of which it is composed, it seems profoundly real and substantial. Just in so far as it is crudely concrete, just in so far as its terms can be vividly realized by the ordinary mind, does such a theological theory seem weighty and true. On the other hand, a theory of divine action which, discarding as far as possible the aid of concrete symbols, attempts to include within its range the endlessly complex operations that are forever going on throughout the length and breadth of the knowable universe,--such a theory is to the ordinary mind unintelligible. It awakens no emotion because it is not understood. Though it may be the nearest approximation to the truth of which the human intellect is at the present moment capable, though the statements of which it is composed may be firmly based upon demonstrated facts in nature, it will nevertheless seem eminently unreal and uninteresting. The dullest peasant can understand you when you tell him that honey is sweet, while a statement that the ratio of the circumference of a circle to its diameter may be expressed by the formula +p+ = 3.14159 will sound as gibberish in his ears; yet the truth embodied in the latter statement is far more closely implicated with every act of the peasant's life, if he only knew it, than the truth expressed in the former. So the merest child may know enough to marvel at the Hebrew legend of the burning bush, but only the ripest scholar can begin to understand the character of the mighty problems with which Spinoza was grappling when he had so much to say about _natura naturans_ and _natura naturata_. For these reasons all attempts to study God as revealed in the workings of the visible universe, and to characterize the divine activity in terms derived from such study, have met with discouragement, if not with obloquy. As substituting a less easily comprehensible formula for one that is more easily comprehensible, they seem to be frittering away the idea of God, and reducing it to an empty abstraction. There is a further reason for the dread with which such studies are commonly regarded. The theories of divine action accepted as orthodox by the men of any age have been bequeathed to them by their forefathers of an earlier age. They were originally framed with reference to assumed facts of nature which advancing knowledge is continually discrediting and throwing aside. Each forward step in physical science obliges us to contemplate the universe from a somewhat altered point of view, so that the mutual relations of its parts keep changing as in an ever-shifting landscape. The notions of the world and its Maker with which we started by and by prove meagre and unsatisfying; they no longer fit in with the general scheme of our knowledge. Hence the men who are wedded to the old notions are quick to sound the alarm. They would fain deter us from taking the forward step which carries us to a new standpoint. Beware of science, they cry, lest with its dazzling discoveries and adventurous speculations it rob us of our soul's comfort and leave us in a godless world. Such in every age has been the cry of the more timid and halting spirits; and their fears have found apparent confirmation in the behaviour of a very different class of thinkers. As there are those who live in perpetual dread of the time when science shall banish God from the world, so, on the other hand, there are those who look forward with longing to such a time, and in their impatience are continually starting up and proclaiming that at last it has come. There are those who have indeed learned a lesson from Mephistopheles, the "spirit that forever denies." These are they that say in their hearts, "There is no God," and "congratulate themselves that they are going to die like the beasts." Rushing into the holiest arcana of philosophy, even where angels fear to tread, they lay hold of each new discovery in science that modifies our view of the universe, and herald it as a crowning victory for the materialists,--a victory which is ushering in the happy day when atheism is to be the creed of all men. It is in view of such philosophizers that the astronomer, the chemist, or the anatomist, whose aim is the dispassionate examination of evidence and the unbiased study of phenomena, may fitly utter the prayer, "Lord, save me from my friends!" Thus through age after age has it fared with men's discoveries in science, and with their thoughts about God and the soul. It was so in the days of Galileo and Newton, and we have found it to be so in the days of Darwin and Spencer. The theologian exclaims, if planets are held in place by gravitation and tangential momentum, and if the highest forms of life have been developed by natural selection and direct adaptation, then the universe is swayed by blind forces, and nothing is left for God to do: how impious and terrible the thought! Even so, echoes the favourite atheist, the Lamettrie or Büchner of the day; the universe, it seems, has always got on without a God, and accordingly there is none: how noble and cheering the thought! And as thus age after age they wrangle, with their eyes turned away from the light, the world goes on to larger and larger knowledge in spite of them, and does not lose its faith, for all these darkeners of counsel may say. As in the roaring loom of Time the endless web of events is woven, each strand shall make more and more clearly visible the living garment of God. II. _The Rapid Growth of Modern Knowledge._ At no time since men have dwelt upon the earth have their notions about the universe undergone so great a change as in the century of which we are now approaching the end. Never before has knowledge increased so rapidly; never before has philosophical speculation been so actively conducted, or its results so widely diffused. It is a characteristic of organic evolution that numerous progressive tendencies, for a long time inconspicuous, now and then unite to bring about a striking and apparently sudden change; or a set of forces, quietly accumulating in one direction, at length unlock some new reservoir of force and abruptly inaugurate a new series of phenomena, as when water rises in a tank until its overflow sets whirling a system of toothed wheels. It may be that Nature makes no leaps, but in this way she now and then makes very long strides. It is in this way that the course of organic development is marked here and there by memorable epochs, which seem to open new chapters in the history of the universe. There was such an epoch when the common ancestor of ascidian and amphioxus first showed rudimentary traces of a vertebral column. There was such an epoch when the air-bladder of early amphibians began to do duty as a lung. Greatest of all, since the epoch, still hidden from our ken, when organic life began upon the surface of the globe, was the birth of that new era when, through a wondrous change in the direction of the working of natural selection, Humanity appeared upon the scene. In the career of the human race we can likewise point to periods in which it has become apparent that an immense stride was taken. Such a period marks the dawning of human history, when after countless ages of desultory tribal warfare men succeeded in uniting into comparatively stable political societies, and through the medium of written language began handing down to posterity the record of their thoughts and deeds. Since that morning twilight of history there has been no era so strongly marked, no change so swift or so far-reaching in the conditions of human life, as that which began with the great maritime discoveries of the fifteenth century and is approaching its culmination to-day. In its earlier stages this modern era was signalized by sporadic achievements of the human intellect, great in themselves and leading to such stupendous results as the boldest dared not dream of. Such achievements were the invention of printing, the telescope and microscope, the geometry of Descartes, the astronomy of Newton, the physics of Huyghens, the physiology of Harvey. Man's senses were thus indefinitely enlarged as his means of registration were perfected; he became capable of extending physical inferences from the earth to the heavens; and he made his first acquaintance with that luminiferous ether which was by and by to reveal the intimate structure of matter in regions far beyond the power of the microscope to penetrate. It is only within the present century that the vastness of the changes thus beginning to be wrought has become apparent. The scientific achievements of the human intellect no longer occur sporadically: they follow one upon another, like the organized and systematic conquests of a resistless army. Each new discovery becomes at once a powerful implement in the hands of innumerable workers, and each year wins over fresh regions of the universe from the unknown to the known. Our own generation has become so wonted to this unresting march of discovery that we already take it as quite a matter of course. Our minds become easily deadened to its real import, and the examples we cite in illustration of it have an air of triteness. We scarcely need to be reminded that all the advances made in locomotion, from the days of Nebuchadnezzar to those of Andrew Jackson, were as nothing compared to the change that has been wrought within a few years by the introduction of railroads. In these times, when Puck has fulfilled his boast and put a girdle about the earth in forty minutes, we are not yet perhaps in danger of forgetting that a century has not elapsed since he who caught the lightning upon his kite was laid in the grave. Yet the lesson of these facts, as well as of the grandmother's spinning-wheel that stands by the parlour fireside, is well to bear in mind. The change therein exemplified since Penelope plied her distaff is far less than that which has occurred within the memory of living men. The developments of machinery, which have worked such wonders, have greatly altered the political conditions of human society, so that a huge republic like the United States is now as snug and compact and easily manageable as the tiny republic of Switzerland in the eighteenth century. The number of men that can live upon a given area of the earth's surface has been multiplied manifold, and while the mass of human life has thus increased its value has been at the same time enhanced. In these various applications of physical theory to the industrial arts, countless minds, of a class that formerly were not reached by scientific reasoning at all, are now brought into daily contact with complex and subtle operations of matter, and their habits of thought are thus notably modified. Meanwhile, in the higher regions of chemistry and molecular physics the progress has been such that no description can do it justice. When we reflect that a fourth generation has barely had time to appear on the scene since Priestley discovered that there was such a thing as oxygen, we stand awestruck before the stupendous pile of chemical science which has been reared in this brief interval. Our knowledge thus gained of the molecular and atomic structure of matter has been alone sufficient to remodel our conceptions of the universe from beginning to end. The case of molecular physics is equally striking. The theory of the conservation of energy, and the discovery that light, heat, electricity, and magnetism are differently conditioned modes of undulatory motion transformable each into the other, are not yet fifty years old. In physical astronomy we remained until 1839 confined within the limits of the solar system, and even here the Newtonian theory had not yet won its crowning triumph in the discovery of the planet Neptune. To-day we not only measure the distances and movements of many stars, but by means of spectrum analysis are able to tell what they are made of. It is more than a century since the nebular hypothesis, by which we explain the development of stellar systems, was first propounded by Immanuel Kant, but it is only within thirty years that it has been generally adopted by astronomers; and among the outward illustrations of its essential soundness none is more remarkable than its surviving such an enlargement of our knowledge. Coming to the geologic study of the changes that have taken place on the earth's surface, it was in 1830 that Sir Charles Lyell published the book which first placed this study upon a scientific basis. Cuvier's classification of past and present forms of animal life, which laid the foundations alike of comparative anatomy and of palæontology, came but little earlier. The cell-doctrine of Schleiden and Schwann, prior to which modern biology can hardly be said to have existed, dates from 1839; and it was only ten years before that the scientific treatment of embryology began with Von Baer. At the present moment, twenty-six years have not elapsed since the epoch-making work of Darwin first announced to the world the discovery of natural selection. In the cycle of studies which are immediately concerned with the career of mankind, the rate of progress has been no less marvellous. The scientific study of human speech may be said to date from the flash of insight which led Friedrich Schlegel in 1808 to detect the kinship between the Aryan languages. From this beginning to the researches of Fick and Ascoli in our own time, the quantity of achievement rivals anything the physical sciences can show. The study of comparative mythology, which has thrown such light upon the primitive thoughts of mankind, is still younger,--is still, indeed, in its infancy. The application of the comparative method to the investigation of laws and customs, of political and ecclesiastical and industrial systems, has been carried on scarcely thirty years; yet the results already obtained are obliging us to rewrite the history of mankind in all its stages. The great achievements of archæologists--the decipherment of Egyptian hieroglyphs and of cuneiform inscriptions in Assyria and Persia, the unearthing of ancient cities, the discovery and classification of primeval implements and works of art in all quarters of the globe--belong almost entirely to the nineteenth century. These discoveries, which have well-nigh doubled for us the length of the historic period, have united with the quite modern revelations of geology concerning the ancient glaciation of the temperate zones, to give us an approximate idea of the age of the human race[1] and the circumstances attending its diffusion over the earth. It has thus at length become possible to obtain something like the outlines of a comprehensive view of the history of the creation, from the earliest stages of condensation of our solar nebula down to the very time in which we live, and to infer from the characteristics of this past evolution some of the most general tendencies of the future. All this accumulation of physical and historical knowledge has not failed to react upon our study of the human mind itself. In books of logic the score of centuries between Aristotle and Whately saw less advance than the few years between Whately and Mill. In psychology the work of Fechner and Wundt and Spencer belongs to the age in which we are now living. When to all this variety of achievement we add what has been done in the critical study of literature and art, of classical and Biblical philology, and of metaphysics and theology, illustrating from fresh points of view the history of the human mind, the sum total becomes almost too vast to be comprehended. This century, which some have called an age of iron, has been also an age of ideas, an era of seeking and finding the like of which was never known before. It is an epoch the grandeur of which dwarfs all others that can be named since the beginning of the historic period, if not since Man first became distinctively human. In their mental habits, in their methods of inquiry, and in the data at their command, "the men of the present day who have fully kept pace with the scientific movement are separated from the men whose education ended in 1830 by an immeasurably wider gulf than has ever before divided one progressive generation of men from their predecessors."[2] The intellectual development of the human race has been suddenly, almost abruptly, raised to a higher plane than that upon which it had proceeded from the days of the primitive troglodyte to the days of our great-grandfathers. It is characteristic of this higher plane of development that the progress which until lately was so slow must henceforth be rapid. Men's minds are becoming more flexible, the resistance to innovation is weakening, and our intellectual demands are multiplying while the means of satisfying them are increasing. Vast as are the achievements we have just passed in review, the gaps in our knowledge are immense, and every problem that is solved but opens a dozen new problems that await solution. Under such circumstances there is no likelihood that the last word will soon be said on any subject. In the eyes of the twenty-first century the science of the nineteenth will doubtless seem very fragmentary and crude. But the men of that day, and of all future time, will no doubt point back to the age just passing away as the opening of a new dispensation, the dawning of an era in which the intellectual development of mankind was raised to a higher plane than that upon which it had hitherto proceeded. As the inevitable result of the thronging discoveries just enumerated, we find ourselves in the midst of a mighty revolution in human thought. Time-honoured creeds are losing their hold upon men; ancient symbols are shorn of their value; everything is called in question. The controversies of the day are not like those of former times. It is no longer a question of hermeneutics, no longer a struggle between abstruse dogmas of rival churches. Religion itself is called upon to show why it should any longer claim our allegiance. There are those who deny the existence of God. There are those who would explain away the human soul as a mere group of fleeting phenomena attendant upon the collocation of sundry particles of matter. And there are many others who, without committing themselves to these positions of the atheist and the materialist, have nevertheless come to regard religion as practically ruled out from human affairs. No religious creed that man has ever devised can be made to harmonize in all its features with modern knowledge. All such creeds were constructed with reference to theories of the universe which are now utterly and hopelessly discredited. How, then, it is asked, amid the general wreck of old beliefs, can we hope that the religious attitude in which from time immemorial we have been wont to contemplate the universe can any longer be maintained? Is not the belief in God perhaps a dream of the childhood of our race, like the belief in elves and bogarts which once was no less universal? and is not modern science fast destroying the one as it has already destroyed the other? Such are the questions which we daily hear asked, sometimes with flippant eagerness, but oftener with anxious dread. In view of them it is well worth while to examine the idea of God, as it has been entertained by mankind from the earliest ages, and as it is affected by the knowledge of the universe which we have acquired in recent times. If we find in that idea, as conceived by untaught thinkers in the twilight of antiquity, an element that still survives the widest and deepest generalizations of modern times, we have the strongest possible reason for believing that the idea is permanent and answers to an Eternal Reality. It was to be expected that conceptions of Deity handed down from primitive men should undergo serious modification. If it can be shown that the essential element in these conceptions must survive the enormous additions to our knowledge which have distinguished the present age above all others since man became man, then we may believe that it will endure so long as man endures; for it is not likely that it can ever be called upon to pass a severer ordeal. All this will presently appear in a still stronger light, when we have set forth the common characteristic of the modifications which the idea of God has already undergone, and the nature of the opposition between the old and the new knowledge with which we are now confronted. Upon this discussion we have now to enter, and we shall find it leading us to the conclusion that throughout all possible advances in human knowledge, so far as we can see, the essential position of theism must remain unshaken. III. _Sources of the Theistic Idea._ Our argument may fitly begin with an inquiry into the sources of the theistic idea and the shape which it has universally assumed among untutored men. The most primitive element which it contains is doubtless the notion of _dependence_ upon something outside of ourselves. We are born into a world consisting of forces which sway our lives and over which we can exercise no control. The individual man can indeed make his volition count for a very little in modifying the course of events, but this end necessitates strict and unceasing obedience to powers that cannot be tampered with. To the behaviour of these external powers our actions must be adapted under penalty of death. And upon grounds no less firm than those on which we believe in any externality whatever, we recognize that these forces antedated our birth and will endure after we have disappeared from the scene. No one supposes that he makes the world for himself, so that it is born and dies with him. Every one perforce contemplates the world as something existing independently of himself, as something into which he has come, and from which he is to go; and for his coming and his going, as well as for what he does while part of the world, he is dependent upon something that is not himself. Between ancient and modern man, as between the child and the adult, there can be no essential difference in the recognition of this fundamental fact of life. The primitive man could not, indeed, state the case in this generalized form, any more than a young child could state it, but the facts which the statement covers were as real to him as they are to us.[A] The primitive man knew nothing of a world, in the modern sense of the word. The conception of that vast consensus of forces which we call the world or universe is a somewhat late result of culture; it was reached only through ages of experience and reflection. Such an idea lay beyond the horizon of the primitive man. But while he knew not the world, he knew bits and pieces of it; or, to vary the expression, he had his little world, chaotic and fragmentary enough, but full of dread reality for him. He knew what it was to deal from birth until death with powers far mightier than himself. To explain these powers, to make their actions in any wise intelligible, he had but one available resource; and this was so obvious that he could not fail to employ it. The only source of action of which he knew anything, since it was the only source which lay within himself, was the human will;[3] and in this respect, after all, the philosophy of the primeval savage was not so very far removed from that of the modern scientific thinker. The primitive man could see that his own actions were prompted by desire and guided by intelligence, and he supposed the same to be the case with the sun and the wind, the frost and the lightning. All the forces of outward nature, so far as they came into visible contact with his life, he personified as great beings which were to be contended with or placated. This primeval philosophy, once universal among men, has lasted far into the historic period, and it is only slowly and bit by bit that it has been outgrown by the most highly civilized races. Indeed the half-civilized majority of mankind have by no means as yet cast it aside, and among savage tribes we may still see it persisting in all its original crudity. In the mythologies of all peoples, of the Greeks and Hindus and Norsemen, as well as of the North American Indians and the dwellers in the South Sea islands, we find the sun personified as an archer or wanderer, the clouds as gigantic birds, the tempest as a devouring dragon; and the tales of gods and heroes, as well as of trolls and fairies, are made up of scattered and distorted fragments of nature-myths, of which the primitive meaning had long been forgotten when the ingenuity of modern scholarship laid it bare.[4] [A] See note A at the end of the volume. In all this personification of physical phenomena our prehistoric ancestors were greatly assisted by that theory of ghosts which was perhaps the earliest speculative effort of the human mind. Travellers have now and then reported the existence of races of men quite destitute of religion, or of what the observer has learned to recognize as religion; but no one has ever discovered a race of men devoid of a belief in ghosts. The mass of crude inference which makes up the savage's philosophy of nature is largely based upon the hypothesis that every man has _another self_, a double, or wraith, or ghost. This "hypothesis of the _other self_, which serves to account for the savage's wanderings during sleep in strange lands and among strange people, serves also to account for the presence in his dreams of parents, comrades, or enemies, known to be dead and buried. The other self of the dreamer meets and converses with the other selves of his dead brethren, joins with them in the hunt, or sits down with them to the wild cannibal banquet. Thus arises the belief in an ever-present world of ghosts, a belief which the entire experience of uncivilized man goes to strengthen and expand."[5] Countless tales and superstitions of savage races show that the hypothesis of the other self is used to explain the phenomena of hysteria and epilepsy, of shadows, of echoes, and even of the reflection of face and gestures in still water. It is not only men, moreover, who are provided with other selves. Dumb beasts and plants, stone hatchets and arrows, articles of clothing and food, all have their ghosts;[6] and when the dead chief is buried, his wives and servants, his dogs and horses, are slain to keep him company, and weapons and trinkets are placed in his tomb to be used in the spirit-land. Burial-places of primitive men, ages before the dawn of history, bear testimony to the immense antiquity of this savage philosophy. From this wholesale belief in ghosts to the interpretation of the wind or the lightning as a person animated by an indwelling soul and endowed with quasi-human passions and purposes, the step is not a long one. The latter notion grows almost inevitably out of the former, so that all races of men without exception have entertained it. That the mighty power which uproots trees and drives the storm-clouds across the sky should resemble a human soul is to the savage an unavoidable inference. "If the fire burns down his hut, it is because the fire is a person with a soul, and is angry with him, and needs to be coaxed into a kindlier mood by means of prayer or sacrifice." He has no alternative but to regard fire-soul as something akin to human-soul; his philosophy makes no distinction between the human ghost and the elemental demon or deity. It was in accordance with this primitive theory of things that the earliest form of religious worship was developed. In all races of men, so far as can be determined, this was the worship of ancestors.[7] The other self of the dead chieftain continued after death to watch over the interests of the tribe, to defend it against the attacks of enemies, to reward brave warriors, and to punish traitors and cowards. His favour must be propitiated with ceremonies like those in which a subject does homage to a living ruler. If offended by neglect or irreverent treatment, defeat in battle, damage by flood or fire, visitations of famine or pestilence, were interpreted as marks of his anger. Thus the spirits animating the forces of nature were often identified with the ghosts of ancestors, and mythology is filled with traces of the confusion. In the Vedic religion the _pitris_, or "fathers," live in the sky along with Yama, the original _pitri_ of mankind: they are very busy with the weather; they send down rain to refresh the thirsty earth, or anon parch the fields till the crops perish of drought; and they rush along in the roaring tempest, like the weird host of the wild huntsman Wodan. To the ancient Greek the blue sky Uranos was the father of gods and men, and throughout antiquity this mingling of ancestor-worship with nature-worship was general. With the systematic development of ethnic religions, in some instances ancestor-worship remained dominant, as with the Chinese, the Japanese, and the Romans; in others, a polytheism based upon nature-worship acquired supremacy, as with the Hindus and Greeks, and our own Teutonic forefathers. The great divinities of the Hellenic pantheon are all personifications of physical phenomena. At a comparatively late date the Roman adopted these divinities and paid to them a fashionable and literary homage, but his solemn and heartfelt rites were those with which he worshipped the _lares_ and _penates_ in the privacy of his home. His hospitable treatment of the gods of a vanquished people was the symptom of a commingling of the various local religions of antiquity which insured their mutual destruction and prepared the way for their absorption into a far grander and truer system.[8] IV. _Development of Monotheism._ Such an allusion to the Romans, in an exposition like the present one, is not without its significance. It was partly through political circumstances that a truly theistic idea was developed out of the chaotic and fragmentary ghost theories and nature-worship of the primeval world. To the framing of the vastest of all possible conceptions, the idea of God, man came but slowly. This nature-worship and ancestor-worship of early times was scarcely theism. In their recognition of man's utter dependence upon something outside of himself which yet was not wholly unlike himself, these primitive religions contained the essential germ out of which theism was to grow; but it is a long way from the propitiation of ghosts and the adoration of the rising sun to the worship of the infinite and eternal God, the maker of heaven and earth, in whom we live, and move, and have our being. Before men could arrive at such a conception, it was necessary for them to obtain some integral idea of the heaven and the earth; it was necessary for them to frame, however inadequately, the conception of a physical universe. Such a conception had been reached by civilized peoples before the Christian era, and by the Greeks a remarkable beginning had been made in the generalization and interpretation of physical phenomena. The intellectual atmosphere of Alexandria, for two centuries before and three centuries after the time of Christ, was more modern than anything that followed down to the days of Bacon and Descartes; and all the leaders of Greek thought since Anaxagoras had been virtually or avowedly monotheists. As the phenomena of nature were generalized, the deities or superhuman beings regarded as their sources were likewise generalized, until the conception of nature as a whole gave rise to the conception of a single Deity as the author and ruler of nature; and in accordance with the order of its genesis, this notion of Deity was still the notion of a Being possessed of psychical attributes, and in some way like unto Man. But there was another cause, besides scientific generalization, which led men's minds toward monotheism. The conception of tutelar deities, which was the most prominent practical feature of ancestor-worship, was directly affected by the political development of the peoples of antiquity. As tribes were consolidated into nations, the tutelar gods of the tribes became generalized, or the god of some leading tribe came to supersede his fellows, until the result was a single national deity, at first regarded as the greatest among gods, afterwards as the only God. The most striking instance of this method of development is afforded by the Hebrew conception of Jehovah. The most primitive form of Hebrew religion discernible in the Old Testament is a fetichism, or very crude polytheism, in which ancestor-worship becomes more prominent than nature-worship. At first the _teraphim_, or tutelar household deities, play an important part, but nature-gods, such as Baal, and Moloch, and Astarte, are extensively worshipped. It is the plural _elohim_ who create the earth, and whose sons visit the daughters of antediluvian men. The tutelar deity, Jehovah, is originally thought of as one of the _elohim_, then as chief among _elohim_, and Lord of the hosts of heaven. Through his favour his chosen prophet overcomes the prophets of Baal, he is greater than the deities of neighbouring peoples, he is the only true god, and thus finally he is thought of as the only God, and his name becomes the symbol of monotheism. The Jews have always been one of the most highly-gifted races in the world. In antiquity they developed an intense sentiment of nationality, and for earnestness and depth of ethical feeling they surpassed all other peoples. The conception of Jehovah set forth in the writings of the prophets was the loftiest conception of deity anywhere attained before the time of Christ; in ethical value it immeasurably surpassed anything to be found in the pantheon of the Greeks and Romans. It was natural that such a conception of deity should be adopted throughout the Roman world. At the beginning of the Christian era the classic polytheism had well-nigh lost its hold upon men's minds; its value had become chiefly literary, as a mere collection of pretty stories; it had begun its descent into the humble realm of folk-lore. For want of anything better people had recourse to elaborate Eastern ceremonials, or contented themselves with the time-honoured domestic worship of the _lares_ and _penates_. Yet their minds were ripe for some kind of monotheism, and in order that the Jewish conception should come to be generally adopted, it was only necessary that it should be freed from its limitations of nationality, and that Jehovah should be set forth as Sustainer of the universe and Father of all mankind. This was done by Jesus and Paul. The theory of divine action implied throughout the gospels and the epistles was the first complete monotheism attained by mankind, or at least by that portion of it from which our modern civilization has descended. Here for the first time we have the idea of God dissociated from the limiting circumstances with which it had been entangled in all the ethnic religions of antiquity. Individual thinkers here and there had already, doubtless, reached an equally true conception, as was shown by Kleanthes in his sublime hymn to Zeus;[9] but it was now for the first time set forth in such wise as to win assent from the common folk as well as the philosophers, and to make its way into the hearts of all men. Its acceptance was hastened, and its hold upon mankind immeasurably strengthened, by the divinely beautiful ethical teaching in which Jesus couched it,--that teaching, so often misunderstood yet so profoundly true, which heralded the time when Man shall have thrown off the burden of his bestial inheritance and strife and sorrow shall cease from the earth.[10] We shall presently see that in its fundamental features the theism of Jesus and Paul was so true that it must endure as long as man endures. Changes of statement may alter the outward appearance of it, but the kernel of truth will remain the same forever. But the shifting body of religious doctrine known as Christianity has at various times contained much that is unknown to this pure theism, and much that has shown itself to be ephemeral in its hold upon men. The change from polytheism to monotheism could not be thoroughly accomplished all at once. As Christianity spread over the Roman world it became encrusted with pagan notions and observances, and a similar process went on during the conversion of the Teutonic barbarians. Yuletide and Easter and other church holidays were directly adopted from the old nature-worship; the adoration of tutelar household deities survived in the homage paid to patron saints; and the worship of the Berecynthian Mother was continued in that of the Virgin Mary.[11] Even the name _God_, applied to the Deity throughout Teutonic Christendom, seems to be neither more nor less than _Wodan_, the personification of the storm-wind, the supreme divinity of our pagan forefathers.[B] [B] See note B. at the end of the volume. That Christianity should thus have retained names and symbols and rites belonging to heathen antiquity was inevitable. The system of Christian theism was the work of some of the loftiest minds that have ever appeared upon the earth; but it was adopted by millions of men and women, of all degrees of knowledge and ignorance, of keenness and dullness, of spirituality and grossness, and these brought to it their various inherited notions and habits of thought. In all its ages, therefore, Christian theism has meant one thing to one person, and another thing to another. While the highest Christian minds have always been monotheistic, the multitude have outgrown polytheism but slowly; and even the monotheism of the highest minds has been coloured by notions ultimately derived from the primeval ghost-world which have interfered with its purity, and have seriously hampered men in their search after truth. In illustration of this point we have now to notice two strongly contrasted views of the divine nature which have been held by Christian theists, and to observe their bearings upon the scientific thought of modern times. V. _The Idea of God as immanent in the World._ We have seen that since the primitive savage philosophy did not distinguish between the human ghost and the elemental demon or deity, the religion of antiquity was an inextricable tangle of ancestor-worship with nature-worship. Nevertheless, among some peoples the one, among others the other, became predominant. I think it can hardly be an accidental coincidence that nature-worship predominated with the Greeks and Hindus, the only peoples of antiquity who accomplished anything in the exact sciences, or in metaphysics. The capacity for abstract thinking which led the Hindu to originate algebra, and the Greek to originate geometry, and both to attempt elaborate scientific theories of the universe,--this same capacity revealed itself in the manner in which they deified the powers of nature. They were able to imagine the indwelling spirit of the sun or the storm without help from the conception of an individual ghost. Such being the general capacity of the people, we can readily understand how, when it came to monotheism, their most eminent thinkers should have been able to frame the conception of God acting in and through the powers of nature, without the aid of any grossly anthropomorphic symbolism. In this connection it is interesting to observe the characteristics of the idea of God as conceived by the three greatest fathers of the Greek church, Clement of Alexandria, Origen, and Athanasius. The philosophy of these profound and vigorous thinkers was in large measure derived from the Stoics. They regarded Deity as immanent in the universe, and eternally operating through natural laws. In their view God is not a localizable personality, remote from the world, and acting upon it only by means of occasional portent and prodigy; nor is the world a lifeless machine blindly working after some preordained method, and only feeling the presence of God in so far as he now and then sees fit to interfere with its normal course of procedure. On the contrary, God is the ever-present life of the world; it is through him that all things exist from moment to moment, and the natural sequence of events is a perpetual revelation of the divine wisdom and goodness. In accordance with this fundamental view, Clement, for example, repudiated the Gnostic theory of the vileness of matter, condemned asceticism, and regarded the world as hallowed by the presence of indwelling Deity. Knowing no distinction "between what man discovers and what God reveals," he explained Christianity as a natural development from the earlier religious thought of mankind. It was essential to his idea of the divine perfection that the past should contain within itself all the germs of the future; and accordingly he attached but slight value to tales of miracle, and looked upon salvation as the normal ripening of the higher spiritual qualities of man "under the guidance of immanent Deity." The views of Clement's disciple Origen are much like those of his master. Athanasius ventured much farther into the bewildering regions of metaphysics. Yet in his doctrine of the Trinity, by which he overcame the visible tendency toward polytheism in the theories of Arius, and averted the threatened danger of a compromise between Christianity and Paganism, he proceeded upon the lines which Clement had marked out. In his very suggestive work on "The Continuity of Christian Thought," Professor Alexander Allen thus sets forth the Athanasian point of view: "In the formula of Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, as three distinct and coequal members in the one divine essence, there was the recognition and the reconciliation of the philosophical schools which had divided the ancient world. In the idea of the eternal Father the Oriental mind recognized what it liked to call the profound abyss of being, that which lies back of all phenomena, the hidden mystery which lends awe to human minds seeking to know the divine. In the doctrine of the eternal Son revealing the Father, immanent in nature and humanity as the life and light shining through all created things, the divine reason in which the human reason shares, there was the recognition of the truth after which Plato and Aristotle and the Stoics were struggling,--the tie which binds the creation to God in the closest organic relationship. In the doctrine of the Holy Spirit the church guarded against any pantheistic confusion of God with the world by upholding the life of the manifested Deity as essentially ethical or spiritual, revealing itself in humanity in its highest form, only in so far as humanity recognized its calling and through the Spirit entered into communion with the Father and the Son." Great as was the service which these views of Athanasius rendered in the fourth century of our era, they are scarcely to be regarded as a permanent or essential feature of Christian theism. The metaphysic in which they are couched is alien to the metaphysic of our time, yet through this vast difference it is all the more instructive to note how closely Athanasius approaches the confines of modern scientific thought, simply through his fundamental conception of God as the indwelling life of the universe. We shall be still more forcibly struck with this similarity when we come to consider the character impressed upon our idea of God by the modern doctrine of evolution. VI. _The Idea of God as remote from the World._ But this Greek conception of divine immanence did not find favour with the Latin-speaking world. There a very different notion prevailed, the origin of which may be traced to the mental habits attending the primitive ancestor-worship. Out of materials furnished by the ghost-world a crude kind of monotheism could be reached by simply carrying back the thought to a single ghost-deity as the original ancestor of all the others. Some barbarous races have gone as far as this, as for example the Zulus, who have developed the doctrine of divine ancestors so far as to recognize a first ancestor, the Great Father, Unkulunkulu, who created the world.[12] The kind of theism reached by this process of thought differs essentially from the theism reached through the medium of nature-worship. For whereas in the latter case the god of the sky or the sea is regarded as a mysterious spirit acting in and through the phenomena, in the former case the phenomena are regarded as coerced into activity by some power existing outside of them, and this power is conceived as manlike in the crudest sense, having been originally thought of as the ghost of some man who once lived upon the earth. In the monotheism which is reached by thinking along these lines of inference, the universe is conceived as an inert lifeless machine, impelled by blind forces which have been set acting from without; and God is conceived as existing apart from the world in solitary inaccessible majesty,--"an absentee God," as Carlyle says, "sitting idle ever since the first Sabbath, at the outside of his universe, and 'seeing it go.'" This conception demands less of the intellect than the conception of God as immanent in the universe. It requires less grasp of mind and less width of experience, and it has accordingly been much the more common conception. The idea of the indwelling God is an attempt to reach out toward the reality, and as such it taxes the powers of the finite mind. The idea of God external to the universe is a symbol which in no wise approaches the reality, and for that very reason it does not tax the mental powers; there is an aspect of finality about it, in which the ordinary mind rests content and complains of whatever seeks to disturb its repose. I must not be understood as ignoring the fact that this lower species of theism has been entertained by some of the loftiest minds of our race, both in ancient and in modern times. When once such an ever-present conception as the idea of God has become intertwined with the whole body of the thoughts of mankind, it is very difficult for the most powerful and subtle intelligence to change the form it has taken. It has become so far organized into the texture of the mind that it abides there unconsciously, like our fundamental axioms about number and magnitude; it sways our thought hither and thither without our knowing it. The two forms of theism here contrasted have slowly grown up under the myriad unassignable influences that in antiquity caused nature-worship to predominate among some people and ancestor-worship among others; they have coloured all the philosophizing that has been done for more than twenty centuries; and it is seldom that a thinker educated under the one form ever comes to adopt the other and habitually employ it, save under the mighty influence of modern science, the tendency of which, as we shall presently see, is all in one direction. Among ancient thinkers the view of Deity as remote from the world prevailed with the followers of Epikuros, who held that the immortal gods could not be supposed to trouble themselves about the paltry affairs of men, but lived a blessed life of their own, undisturbed in the far-off empyrean. This left the world quite under the sway of blind forces, and thus we find it depicted in the marvellous poem of Lucretius, one of the loftiest monuments of Latin genius. It is to all appearance an atheistic world, albeit the author was perhaps more profoundly religious in spirit than any other Roman that ever lived, save Augustine; yet to his immediate scientific purpose this atheism was no drawback. When we are investigating natural phenomena, with intent to explain them scientifically, our proper task is simply to ascertain the physical conditions under which they occur, and the less we meddle with metaphysics or theology the better. As Laplace said, the mathematician, in solving his equations, does not need "the hypothesis of God."[13] To the scientific investigator, as such, the forces of nature are doubtless blind, like the _x_ and _y_ in algebra, but this is only so long as he contents himself with describing their modes of operation; when he undertakes to explain them philosophically, as we shall see, he can in no wise dispense with his theistic hypothesis. The Lucretian philosophy, therefore, admirable as a scientific coördination of such facts about the physical universe as were then known, goes but very little way as a philosophy. It is interesting to note that this atheism followed directly from that species of theism which placed God outside of his universe. We shall find the case of modern atheism to be quite similar. As soon as this crude and misleading conception of God is refuted, as the whole progress of scientific knowledge tends to refute it, the modern atheist or positivist falls back upon his universe of blind forces and contents himself with it, while zealously shouting from the housetops that this is the whole story. To one familiar with Christian ideas, the notion that Man is too insignificant a creature to be worth the notice of Deity seems at once pathetic and grotesque. In the view of Plato, by which all Christendom has been powerfully influenced, there is profound pathos. The wickedness and misery of the world wrought so strongly upon Plato's keen sympathies and delicate moral sense that he came to conclusions almost as gloomy as those of the Buddhist who regards existence as an evil. In the Timaios he depicts the material world as essentially vile; he is unable to think of the pure and holy Deity as manifested in it, and he accordingly separates the Creator from his creation by the whole breadth of infinitude. This view passed on to the Gnostics, for whom the puzzling problem of philosophy was how to explain the action of the spiritual God upon the material universe. Sometimes the interval was bridged by mediating æons or emanations partly spiritual and partly material; sometimes the world was held to be the work of the devil, and in no sense divine.[14] The Greek fathers under the lead of Clement, espousing the higher theism, kept clear of this torrent of Gnostic thought; but upon Augustine it fell with full force, and he was carried away with it. In his earlier writings Augustine showed himself not incapable of comprehending the views of Clement and Athanasius; but his intense feeling of man's wickedness dragged him irresistibly in the opposite direction. In his doctrine of original sin, he represents humanity as cut off from all relationship with God, who is depicted as a crudely anthropomorphic Being far removed from the universe and accessible only through the mediating offices of an organized church. Compared with the thoughts of the Greek fathers this was a barbaric conception, but it was suited alike to the lower grade of culture in western Europe, and to the Latin political genius, which in the decline of the Empire was already occupying itself with its great and beneficent work of constructing an imperial Church. For these reasons the Augustinian theology prevailed, and in the Dark Ages which followed it became so deeply inwrought into the innermost fibres of Latin Christianity that it remains dominant to-day alike in Catholic and Protestant churches. With few exceptions every child born of Christian parents in western Europe or in America grows up with an idea of God the outlines of which were engraven upon men's minds by Augustine fifteen centuries ago. Nay, more, it is hardly too much to say that three fourths of the body of doctrine currently known as Christianity, unwarranted by Scripture and never dreamed of by Christ or his apostles, first took coherent shape in the writings of this mighty Roman, who was separated from the apostolic age by an interval of time like that which separates us from the invention of printing and the discovery of America. The idea of God upon which all this Augustinian doctrine is based is the idea of a Being actuated by human passions and purposes, localizable in space and utterly remote from that inert machine, the universe in which we live, and upon which He acts intermittently through the suspension of what are called natural laws. So deeply has this conception penetrated the thought of Christendom that we continually find it at the bottom of the speculations and arguments of men who would warmly repudiate it as thus stated in its naked outlines. It dominates the reasonings alike of believers and skeptics, of theists and atheists; it underlies at once the objections raised by orthodoxy against each new step in science and the assaults made by materialism upon every religious conception of the world; and thus it is chiefly responsible for that complicated misunderstanding which, by a lamentable confusion of thought, is commonly called "the conflict between religion and science." VII. _Conflict between the Two Ideas, commonly misunderstood as a Conflict between Religion and Science._ In illustration of the mischief that has been wrought by the Augustinian conception of Deity, we may cite the theological objections urged against the Newtonian theory of gravitation and the Darwinian theory of natural selection. Leibnitz, who as a mathematician but little inferior to Newton himself might have been expected to be easily convinced of the truth of the theory of gravitation, was nevertheless deterred by theological scruples from accepting it. It appeared to him that it substituted the action of physical forces for the direct action of the Deity. Now the fallacy of this argument of Leibnitz is easy to detect. It lies in a metaphysical misconception of the meaning of the word "force." "Force" is implicitly regarded as a sort of entity or dæmon which has a mode of action distinguishable from that of Deity; otherwise it is meaningless to speak of substituting the one for the other. But such a personification of "force" is a remnant of barbaric thought, in no wise sanctioned by physical science. When astronomy speaks of two planets as attracting each other with a "force" which varies directly as their masses and inversely as the squares of their distances apart, it simply uses the phrase as a convenient metaphor by which to describe the manner in which the observed movements of the two bodies occur. It explains that in presence of each other the two bodies are observed to change their positions in a certain specified way, and this is all that it means. This is all that a strictly scientific hypothesis can possibly allege, and this is all that observation can possibly prove. Whatever goes beyond this and imagines or asserts a kind of "pull" between the two bodies, is not science, but metaphysics. An atheistic metaphysics may imagine such a "pull," and may interpret it as the action of something that is not Deity, but such a conclusion can find no support in the scientific theorem, which is simply a generalized description of phenomena. The general considerations upon which the belief in the existence and direct action of Deity is otherwise founded are in no wise disturbed by the establishment of any such scientific theorem. We are still perfectly free to maintain that it is the direct action of Deity which is manifested in the planetary movements; having done nothing more with our Newtonian hypothesis than to construct a happy formula for expressing the mode or order of the manifestation. We may have learned something new concerning the manner of divine action; we certainly have not "substituted" any other kind of action for it. And what is thus obvious in this simple astronomical example is equally true in principle in every case whatever in which one set of phenomena is interpreted by reference to another set. In no case whatever can science use the words "force" or "cause" except as metaphorically descriptive of some observed or observable sequence of phenomena. And consequently at no imaginable future time, so long as the essential conditions of human thinking are maintained, can science even attempt to substitute the action of any other power for the direct action of Deity. The theological objection urged by Leibnitz against Newton was repeated word for word by Agassiz in his comments upon Darwin. He regarded it as a fatal objection to the Darwinian theory that it appeared to substitute the action of physical forces for the creative action of Deity. The fallacy here is precisely the same as in Leibnitz's argument. Mr. Darwin has convinced us that the existence of highly complicated organisms is the result of an infinitely diversified aggregate of circumstances so minute as severally to seem trivial or accidental; yet the consistent theist will always occupy an impregnable position in maintaining that the entire series in each and every one of its incidents is an immediate manifestation of the creative action of God. In this connection it is worth while to state explicitly what is the true province of scientific explanation. Is it not obvious that since a philosophical theism must regard divine power as the immediate source of all phenomena alike, therefore science cannot properly explain any particular group of phenomena by a direct reference to the action of Deity? Such a reference is not an explanation, since it adds nothing to our previous knowledge either of the phenomena or of the manner of divine action. The business of science is simply to ascertain in what manner phenomena coexist with each other or follow each other, and the only kind of explanation with which it can properly deal is that which refers one set of phenomena to another set. In pursuing this, its legitimate business, science does not touch on the province of theology in any way, and there is no conceivable occasion for any conflict between the two. From this and the previous considerations taken together it follows not only that such explanations as are contained in the Newtonian and Darwinian theories are entirely consistent with theism, but also that they are the only kind of explanations with which science can properly concern itself at all. To say that complex organisms were directly created by the Deity is to make an assertion which, however true in a theistic sense, is utterly barren. It is of no profit to theism, which must be taken for granted before the assertion can be made; and it is of no profit to science, which must still ask its question, "How?"[15] We are now prepared to see that the theological objection urged against the Newtonian and Darwinian theories has its roots in that imperfect kind of theism which Augustine did so much to fasten upon the western world. Obviously if Leibnitz and Agassiz had been educated in that higher theism shared by Clement and Athanasius in ancient times with Spinoza and Goethe in later days,--if they had been accustomed to conceive of God as immanent in the universe and eternally creative,--then the argument which they urged with so much feeling would never have occurred to them. By no possibility could such an argument have entered their minds. To conceive of "physical forces" as powers of which the action could in any wise be "substituted" for the action of Deity would in such case have been absolutely impossible. Such a conception involves the idea of God as remote from the world and acting upon it from outside. The whole notion of what theological writers are fond of calling "secondary causes" involves such an idea of God. The higher or Athanasian theism knows nothing of secondary causes in a world where every event flows directly from the eternal First Cause. It knows nothing of physical forces save as immediate manifestations of the omnipresent creative power of God. In the personification of physical forces, and the implied contrast between their action and that of Deity, there is something very like a survival of the habits of thought which characterized ancient polytheism. What are these personified forces but little gods who are supposed to be invading the sacred domain of the ruler Zeus? When one speaks of substituting the action of Gravitation for the direct action of Deity, does there not hover somewhere in the dim background of the conception a vague spectre of Gravitation in the guise of a rebellious Titan? Doubtless it would not be easy to bring any one to acknowledge such a charge, but the unseen and unacknowledged part of a fallacy is just that which is most persistent and mischievous. It is not so many generations, after all, since our ancestors were barbarians and polytheists; and fragments of their barbaric thinking are continually intruding unawares into the midst of our lately-acquired scientific culture. In most philosophical discussions a great deal of loose phraseology is used, in order to find the proper connotations of which we must go back to primitive and untutored ages. Such is eminently the case with the phrases in which the forces of nature are personified and described as something else than manifestations of omnipresent Deity. This subject is of such immense importance that I must illustrate it from yet another point of view. We must observe the manner in which, along with the progress of scientific discovery, theological arguments have come to be permeated by the strange assumption that the greater part of the universe is godless. Here again we must go back for a moment to the primeval world and observe how behind every physical phenomenon there were supposed to be quasi-human passions and a quasi-human will. Now the phenomena which were first arranged and systematized in men's thoughts, and thus made the subject of something like scientific generalization, were the simplest, the most accessible, and the most manageable phenomena; and from these the conception of a quasi-human will soonest faded away. There are savages who believe that hatchets and kettles have souls, but men unquestionably outgrew such a belief as this long before they outgrew the belief that there are ghost-like deities in the tempest, or in the sun and moon. After many ages of culture, men ceased to regard the familiar and regularly-recurring phenomena of nature as immediate results of volition, and reserved this primeval explanation for unusual or terrible phenomena, such as comets and eclipses, or famines and plagues. As the result of these habits of thought, in course of time, Nature seemed to be divided into two antithetical provinces. On the one hand, there were the phenomena that occurred with a simple regularity which seemed to exclude the idea of capricious volition; and these were supposed to constitute the realm of natural law. On the other hand, there were the complex and irregular phenomena in which the presence of law could not so easily be detected; and these were supposed to constitute the realm of immediate divine action. This antithesis has forever haunted the minds of men imbued with the lower or Augustinian theism; and such have made up the larger part of the Christian world. It has tended to make the theologians hostile to science and the men of science hostile to theology. For as scientific generalization has steadily extended the region of natural law, the region which theology has assigned to divine action has steadily diminished. Every discovery in science has stripped off territory from the latter province and added it to the former. Every such discovery has accordingly been promulgated and established in the teeth of bitter and violent opposition on the part of theologians. A desperate fight it has been for some centuries, in which science has won every disputed position, while theology, untaught by perennial defeat, still valiantly defends the little corner that is left it. Still as of old the ordinary theologian rests his case upon the assumption of disorder, caprice, and miraculous interference with the course of nature. He naively asks, "If plants and animals have been naturally originated, if the world as a whole has been evolved and not manufactured, and if human actions conform to law, what is there left for God to do? If not formally repudiated, is he not thrust back into the past eternity, as an ultimate source of things, which is postulated for form's sake, but might as well, for all practical purposes, be omitted?"[16] The scientific inquirer may reply that the difficulty is one which theology has created for itself. It is certainly not science that has relegated the creative activity of God to some nameless moment in the bygone eternity and left him without occupation in the present world. It is not science that is responsible for the mischievous distinction between divine action and natural law. That distinction is historically derived from a loose habit of philosophizing characteristic of ignorant ages, and was bequeathed to modern times by the theology of the Latin church. Small blame to the atheist who, starting upon such a basis, thinks he can interpret the universe without the idea of God! He is but doing as well as he knows how, with the materials given him. One has only, however, to adopt the higher theism of Clement and Athanasius, and this alleged antagonism between science and theology, by which so many hearts have been saddened, so many minds darkened, vanishes at once and forever. "Once really adopt the conception of an ever-present God, without whom not a sparrow falls to the ground, and it becomes self-evident that the law of gravitation is but an expression of a particular mode of divine action. And what is thus true of one law is true of all laws."[17] The thinker in whose mind divine action is thus identified with orderly action, and to whom a really irregular phenomenon would seem like a manifestation of sheer diabolism, foresees in every possible extension of knowledge a fresh confirmation of his faith in God. From his point of view there can be no antagonism between our duty as inquirers and our duty as worshippers. To him no part of the universe is godless. In the swaying to and fro of molecules and the ceaseless pulsations of ether, in the secular shiftings of planetary orbits, in the busy work of frost and raindrop, in the mysterious sprouting of the seed, in the everlasting tale of death and life renewed, in the dawning of the babe's intelligence, in the varied deeds of men from age to age, he finds that which awakens the soul to reverential awe; and each act of scientific explanation but reveals an opening through which shines the glory of the Eternal Majesty. VIII. _Anthropomorphic Conceptions of God._ Between the two ideas of God which we have exhibited in such striking contrast, there is nevertheless one point of resemblance; and this point is fundamental, since it is the point in virtue of which both are entitled to be called theistic ideas. In both there is presumed to be a likeness of some sort between God and Man. In both there is an element of anthropomorphism. Even upon this their common ground, however, there is a wide difference between the two conceptions. In the one the anthropomorphic element is gross, in the other it is refined and subtle. The difference is so far-reaching that some years ago I proposed to mark it by contrasting these two conceptions of God as Anthropomorphic Theism and Cosmic Theism. For the doctrine which represents God as immanent in the universe and revealing himself in the orderly succession of events, the name Cosmic Theism is eminently appropriate: but it is not intended by the antithetic nomenclature to convey the impression that in cosmic theism there is nothing anthropomorphic.[18] A theory which should regard the Human Soul as alien and isolated in the universe, without any links uniting it with the eternal source of existence, would not be theism at all. It would be Atheism, which on its metaphysical side is "the denial of anything psychical in the universe outside of human consciousness." It is far enough from any such doctrine to the cosmic theism of Clement and Origen, of Spinoza and Lessing and Schleiermacher. The difference, however, between this cosmic conception of God and the anthropomorphic conception held by Tertullian and Augustine, Calvin and Voltaire and Paley, is sufficiently great to be described as a contrast. The explanation of the difference must be sought far back in the historic genesis of the two conceptions. Cosmic theism, as we have seen, was reached through nature-worship with its notion of vast elemental spirits indwelling in physical phenomena. Anthropomorphic theism is descended from the notion of tutelar deities which was part of the primitive ancestor-worship. In the process by which men attained to cosmic theism, physical generalization was the chief agency at work; but into anthropomorphic theism, as we have seen, there entered conceptions derived from men's political thinking. For such a people as the Romans, who could deify Imperator Augustus in just the same way that the Japanese have deified their Mikado, it was natural, and easy to conceive of God as a monarch enthroned in the heavens and surrounded by a court of ministering angels. Such was the popular conception in the early ages of Christianity, and such it has doubtless remained with the mass of uninstructed people even to this day. The very grotesqueness of the idea, as it appears to the mind of a philosopher, is an index of the ease with which it satisfies the mind of an uneducated man. Many persons, no doubt, have entertained this idea of God without ever giving it very definite shape, and many have recognized it as in great measure symbolic: yet nothing can be more certain than that untold thousands have conceived it in its full intensity of anthropomorphism. Alike in sermons and theological treatises, in stately poetry and in every-day talk, the Deity has been depicted as pleased or angry, as repenting of his own acts, as soothed by adulation and quick to wreak vengeance upon silly people for blasphemous remarks. In those curious bills of expenses for the mediæval miracle-plays, along with charges of twopence for keeping up a "fyre at hell mouthe," we find such items as a shilling for a purple coat for God. In one of these plays an angel who has just witnessed the crucifixion comes rushing into Heaven, crying, "Wake up, almighty Father! Here are those beggarly Jews killing your son, and you asleep here like a drunkard!" "Devil take me if I knew anything about it!" is the drowsy reply. Not the slightest irreverence was intended in these miracle-plays, which were the only dramatic performances tolerated by the mediæval church, for the sake of their wholesome educational influence upon the common people. In the light of such facts, one sees that the representations of the Deity as an old man of august presence, with flowing hair and beard, by the early modern painters, must have meant to all save the highest minds much more than a mere symbol. Until one's thoughts have become accustomed to range far and wide over the universe it is doubtless impossible to frame a conception of Deity that is not grossly anthropomorphic. I remember distinctly the conception which I had formed when five years of age. I imagined a narrow office just over the zenith, with a tall standing-desk running lengthwise, upon which lay several open ledgers bound in coarse leather. There was no roof over this office, and the walls rose scarcely five feet from the floor, so that a person standing at the desk could look out upon the whole world. There were two persons at the desk, and one of them--a tall, slender man, of aquiline features, wearing spectacles, with a pen in his hand and another behind his ear--was God. The other, whose appearance I do not distinctly recall, was an attendant angel. Both were diligently watching the deeds of men and recording them in the ledgers. To my infant mind this picture was not grotesque, but ineffably solemn, and the fact that all my words and acts were thus written down, to confront me at the day of judgment, seemed naturally a matter of grave concern. If we could cross-question all the men and women we know, and still more all the children, we should probably find that, even in this enlightened age, the conceptions of Deity current throughout the civilized world contain much that is in the crudest sense anthropomorphic. Such, at any rate, seems to be the character of the conceptions with which we start in life. With those whose studies lead them to ponder upon the subject in the light of enlarged experience, these conceptions become greatly modified. They lose their anthropomorphic definiteness, they grow vague by reason of their expansion, they become recognized as largely symbolic, but they never quite lose all traces of their primitive form. Indeed, as I said a moment ago, they cannot do so. The utter demolition of anthropomorphism would be the demolition of theism. We have now to see what traces of its primitive form the idea of God can retain, in the light of our modern knowledge of the universe. IX. _The Argument from Design._ The most highly refined and scientific form of anthropomorphic theism is that which we are accustomed to associate with Paley and the authors of the Bridgewater treatises. It is not peculiar to Christianity, since it has been held by pagans and unbelievers as firmly as by the devoutest members of the church. The argument from design is as old as Sokrates, and was relied on by Voltaire and the English deists of the eighteenth century no less than by Dr. Chalmers and Sir Charles Bell. Upon this theory the universe is supposed to have been created by a Being possessed of intelligence and volition essentially similar to the intelligence and volition of Man. This Being is actuated by a desire for the good of his creatures, and in pursuance thereof entertains purposes and adapts means to ends with consummate ingenuity. The process by which the world was created was analogous to manufacture, as being the work of an intelligent artist operating upon unintelligent materials objectively existing. It is in accordance with this theory that books on natural theology, as well as those text-books of science which deem it edifying to introduce theological reflections where they have no proper place, are fond of speaking of the "Divine Architect" or the "Great Designer." This theory, which is still commonly held, was in high favour during the earlier part of the present century. In view of the great and sudden advances which physical knowledge was making, it seemed well worth while to consecrate science to the service of theology; and at the same time, in emphasizing the argument from design, theology adopted the methods of science. The attempt to discover evidences of beneficent purpose in the structure of the eye and ear, in the distribution of plants and animals over the earth's surface, in the shapes of the planetary orbits and the inclinations of their axes, or in any other of the innumerable arrangements of nature, was an attempt at true induction; and high praise is due to the able men who have devoted their energies to reinforcing the argument. By far the greater part of the evidence was naturally drawn from the organic world, which began to be comprehensively studied in the mutual relations of all its parts in the time of Lamarck and Cuvier. The organic world is full of unspeakably beautiful and wonderful adaptations between organisms and their environments, as well as between the various parts of the same organism. The unmistakable end of these adaptations is the welfare of the animal or plant; they conduce to length and completeness of life, to the permanence and prosperity of the species. For some time, therefore, the arguments of natural theology seemed to be victorious along the whole line. The same kind of reasoning was pushed farther and farther to explain the classification and morphology of plants and animals; until the climax was reached in Agassiz's remarkable "Essay on Classification," published in 1859, in which every organic form was not only regarded as a concrete thought of the Creator interpretable by the human mind, but this kind of explanation was expressly urged as a substitute for inquiries into the physical causes whereby such forms might have been originated. In its best days, however, there was a serious weakness in the argument from design, which was ably pointed out by Mr. Mill, in an essay wherein he accords much more weight to the general argument than could now by any possibility be granted it. Its fault was the familiar logical weakness of proving too much. The very success of the argument in showing the world to have been the work of an intelligent Designer made it impossible to suppose that Creator to be at once omnipotent and absolutely benevolent. For nothing can be clearer than that Nature is full of cruelty and maladaptation. In every part of the animal world we find implements of torture surpassing in devilish ingenuity anything that was ever seen in the dungeons of the Inquisition. We are introduced to a scene of incessant and universal strife, of which it is not apparent on the surface that the outcome is the good or the happiness of anything that is sentient. In pre-Darwinian times, before we had gone below the surface, no such outcome was discernible. Often, indeed, we find the higher life wantonly sacrificed to the lower, as instanced by the myriads of parasites apparently created for no other purpose than to prey upon creatures better than themselves. Such considerations bring up, with renewed emphasis, the everlasting problem of the origin of evil. If the Creator of such a world is omnipotent he cannot be actuated solely by a desire for the welfare of his creatures, but must have other ends in view to which this is in some measure subordinated. Or if he is absolutely benevolent, then he cannot be omnipotent, but there is something in the nature of things which sets limits to his creative power. This dilemma is as old as human thinking, and it still remains a stumbling-block in the way of any theory of the universe that can possibly be devised. But it is an obstacle especially formidable to any kind of anthropomorphic theism. For the only avenue of escape is the assumption of an inscrutable mystery which would contain the solution of the problem if the human intellect could only penetrate so far; and the more closely we invite a comparison between divine and human methods of working, the more do we close up that only outlet. The practical solution oftenest adopted has been that which sacrifices the Creator's omnipotence in favour of his benevolence. In the noblest of the purely Aryan religions--that of which the sacred literature is contained in the Zendavesta--the evil spirit Ahriman exists independently of the will of the good Ormuzd, and is accountable for all the sin in the world, but in the fullness of time he is to be bound in chains and shorn of his power for mischief.[19] This theory has passed into Christendom in the form of Manichæism; but its essential features have been adopted by orthodox Christianity, which at the same time has tried to grasp the other horn of the dilemma and save the omnipotence of the Deity by paying him what Mr. Mill calls the doubtful compliment of making him the creator of the devil. By this device the essential polytheism of the conception is thinly veiled. The confusion of thought has been persistently blinked by the popular mind; but among the profoundest thinkers of the Aryan race there have been two who have explicitly adopted the solution which limits the Creator's power. One of these was Plato, who held that God's perfect goodness has been partially thwarted by the intractableness of the materials he has had to work with. This theory was carried to extremes by those Gnostics who believed that God's work consisted in redeeming a world originally created by the devil, and in orthodox Christianity it gave rise to the Augustinian doctrine of total depravity, and the "philosophy of the plan of salvation" founded thereon. The other great thinker who adopted a similar solution was Leibnitz. In his famous theory of optimism the world is by no means represented as perfect; it is only the best of all possible worlds, the best the Creator could make out of the materials at hand. In recent times Mr. Mill shows a marked preference for this view, and one of the foremost religious teachers now living, Dr. Martineau, falls into a parallel line of thinking in his suggestion that the primary qualities of matter constitute a "datum objective to God," who, "in shaping the orbits out of immensity, and determining seasons out of eternity, could but follow the laws of curvature, measure, and proportion."[20] But indeed it is not necessary to refer to the problem of evil in order to show that the argument from design cannot prove the existence of an omnipotent and benevolent Designer. It is not omnipotence that contrives and plans and adapts means to ends. These are the methods of finite intelligence; they imply the overcoming of obstacles; and to ascribe them to omnipotence is to combine words that severally possess meanings into a phrase that has no meaning. "God said, Let there be light: and there was light." In this noble description of creative omnipotence one would search in vain for any hint of contrivance. The most the argument from design could legitimately hope to accomplish was to make it seem probable that the universe was wrought into its present shape by an intelligent and benevolent Being immeasurably superior to Man, but far from infinite in power and resources. Such an argument hardly rises to the level of true theism.[21] X. _Simile of the Watch replaced by Simile of the Flower._ It was in its own chosen stronghold that this once famous argument was destined to meet its doom. It was in the adaptations of the organic world, in the manifold harmonies between living creatures and surrounding circumstances, that it had seemed to find its chief support; and now came the Darwinian theory of natural selection, and in the twinkling of an eye knocked all this support from under it. It is not that the organism and its environment have been adapted to each other by an exercise of creative intelligence, but it is that the organism is necessarily fitted to the environment because in the perennial slaughter that has gone on from the beginning only the fittest have survived. Or, as it has been otherwise expressed, "the earth is suited to its inhabitants because it has produced them, and only such as suit it live." In the struggle for existence no individual peculiarity, however slight, that tends to the preservation of life is neglected. It is unerringly seized upon and propagated by natural selection, and from the cumulative action of such slight causes have come the beautiful adaptations of which the organic world is full. The demonstration of this point, through the labours of a whole generation of naturalists, has been one of the most notable achievements of modern science, and to the theistic arguments of Paley and the Bridgewater treatises it has dealt destruction. But the Darwinian theory of natural selection does not stand alone. It is part of a greater whole. It is the most conspicuous portion of that doctrine of evolution in which all the results hitherto attained by the great modern scientific movement are codified, and which Herbert Spencer had already begun to set forth in its main outlines before the Darwinian theory had been made known to the world. This doctrine of evolution so far extends the range of our vision through past and future time as entirely to alter our conception of the universe. Our grandfathers, in common with all preceding generations of men, could and did suppose that at some particular moment in the past eternity the world was created in very much the shape which it has at present. But our modern knowledge does not allow us to suppose anything of the sort. We can carry back our thoughts through a long succession of great epochs, some of them many millions of years in duration, in each of which the innumerable forms of life that covered the earth were very different from what they were in all the others, and in even the nearest of which they were notably different from what they are now. We can go back still farther to the eras when the earth was a whirling ball of vapour, or when it formed an equatorial belt upon a sun two hundred million miles in diameter, or when the sun itself was but a giant nebula from which as yet no planet had been born. And through all the vast sweep of time, from the simple primeval vapour down to the multifarious world we know to-day, we see the various forms of Nature coming into existence one after the other in accordance with laws of which we are already beginning to trace the character and scope. Paley's simile of the watch is no longer applicable to such a world as this. It must be replaced by the simile of the flower. The universe is not a machine, but an organism, with an indwelling principle of life. It was not made, but it has grown. That such a change in our conception of the universe marks the greatest revolution that has ever taken place in human thinking need scarcely be said. But even in this statement we have not quite revealed the depth of the change. Not only has modern science made it clear that the varied forms of Nature which make up the universe have arisen through a process of evolution, but it has also made it clear that what we call the laws of Nature have been evolved through the self-same process. The axiom of the persistence of force, upon which all modern science has come to rest, involves as a necessary corollary the persistence of the relations between forces; so that, starting with the persistence of force and the primary qualities of matter, it can be shown that all those uniformities of coexistence and succession which we call natural laws have arisen one after the other in connection with the forms which have afforded the occasions for their manifestation. The all-pervading harmony of Nature is thus itself a natural product, and the last inch of ground is cut away from under the theologians who suppose the universe to have come into existence through a supernatural process of manufacture at the hands of a Creator outside of itself. XI. _The Craving for a Final Cause._ It appears, then, that the idea of God as remote from the world is not likely to survive the revolution in thought which the rapid increase of modern knowledge has inaugurated. The knell of anthropomorphic or Augustinian theism has already sounded. This conclusion need not, however, disturb us when we consider how imperfect a form of theism this is which mankind is now outgrowing. To get rid of the appearance of antagonism between science and religion will of itself be one of the greatest benefits ever conferred upon the human race. It will forward science and purify religion, and it will go far toward increasing kindness and mutual helpfulness among men. Since such happy results are likely to follow the general adoption of the cosmic or Athanasian form of theism, in place of the other form, it becomes us to observe more specifically the manner in which this higher theism stands related to our modern knowledge. To every form of theism, as I have already urged, an anthropomorphic element is indispensable. It is quite true, on the one hand, that to ascribe what we know as human personality to the infinite Deity straightway lands us in a contradiction, since personality without limits is inconceivable. But on the other hand, it is no less true that the total elimination of anthropomorphism from the idea of God abolishes the idea itself. This difficulty need not dishearten us, for it is no more than we must expect to encounter on the threshold of such a problem as the one before us. We do not approach the question in the spirit of those natural theologians who were so ready with their explanations of the divine purposes. We are aware that "we see as through a glass darkly," and we do not expect to "think God's thoughts after him" save in the crudest symbolic fashion. In dealing with the Infinite we are confessedly treating of that which transcends our powers of conception. Our ability to frame ideas is strictly limited by experience, and our experience does not furnish the materials for the idea of a personality which is not narrowly hemmed in by the inexorable barriers of circumstance. We therefore cannot conceive such an idea. But it does not follow that there is no reality answering to what such an idea would be if it could be conceived. The test of inconceivability is only applicable to the world of phenomena from which our experience is gathered. It fails when applied to that which lies behind phenomena. I do not hold for this reason that we are justified in using such an expression as "infinite personality" in a philosophical inquiry where clearness of thought and speech is above all things desirable. But I do hold, most emphatically, that we are not debarred from ascribing a quasi-psychical nature to the Deity simply because we can frame no proper conception of such a nature as absolute and infinite. The point is of vital importance to theism. As Kant has well said, "the conception of God involves not merely a blindly operating Nature as the eternal root of things, but a Supreme Being that shall be the author of all things by free and understanding action; and it is this conception which alone has any interest for us." It will be observed that Kant says nothing here about "contrivance." By the phrase "free and understanding action" he doubtless means much the same that is here meant by ascribing to God a quasi-psychical nature. And thus alone, he says, can we feel any interest in theism. The thought goes deep, yet is plain enough to every one. The teleological instinct in Man cannot be suppressed or ignored. The human soul shrinks from the thought that it is without kith or kin in all this wide universe. Our reason demands that there shall be a reasonableness in the constitution of things. This demand is a fact in our psychical nature as positive and irrepressible as our acceptance of geometrical axioms and our rejection of whatever controverts such axioms. No ingenuity of argument can bring us to believe that the infinite Sustainer of the universe will "put us to permanent intellectual confusion." There is in every earnest thinker a craving after a final cause; and this craving can no more be extinguished than our belief in objective reality. Nothing can persuade us that the universe is a farrago of nonsense. Our belief in what we call the evidence of our senses is less strong than our faith that in the orderly sequence of events there is a meaning which our minds could fathom were they only vast enough. Doubtless in our own age, of which it is a most healthful symptom that it questions everything, there are many who, through inability to assign the grounds for such a faith, have persuaded themselves that it must be a mere superstition which ought not to be cherished; but it is not likely that any one of these has ever really succeeded in ridding himself of it. According to Mr. Spencer, the only ultimate test of reality is persistence, and the only measure of validity among our primary beliefs is the success with which they resist all efforts to change them. Let us see, then, how it is with the belief in the essential reasonableness of the universe. Does this belief answer to any outward reality? Is there, in the scheme of things, aught that justifies Man in claiming kinship of any sort with the God that is immanent in the world? The difficulty in answering such questions has its root in the impossibility of framing a representative conception of Deity; but it is a difficulty which may, for all practical purposes, be surmounted by the aid of a symbolic conception. XII. _Symbolic Conceptions._ Observe the meaning of this distinction. Of any simple object which can be grasped in a single act of perception, such as a knife or a book, an egg or an orange, a circle or a triangle, you can frame a conception which almost or quite exactly _represents_ the object. The picture or visual image in your mind when the orange is present to the senses is almost exactly reproduced when it is absent. The distinction between the two lies chiefly in the relative vividness of the former as contrasted with the relative faintness of the latter. But as the objects of thought increase in size and in complexity of detail, the case soon comes to be very different. You cannot frame a truly representative conception of the town in which you live, however familiar you may be with its streets and houses, its parks and trees, and the looks and demeanour of the townsmen; it is impossible to embrace so many details in a single mental picture. The mind must range to and fro among the phenomena in order to represent the town in a series of conceptions. But practically what you have in mind when you speak of the town is a fragmentary conception in which some portion of the object is represented, while you are well aware that with sufficient pains a series of mental pictures could be formed which would approximately correspond to the object. That is to say, this fragmentary conception stands in your mind as a _symbol_ of the town. To some extent the conception is representative, but to a great degree it is symbolic. With a further increase in the size and complexity of the objects of thought, our conceptions gradually lose their representative character, and at length become purely symbolic. No one can form a mental picture that answers even approximately to the earth. Even a homogeneous ball eight thousand miles in diameter is too vast an object to be conceived otherwise than symbolically, and much more is this true of the ball upon which we live, with all its endless multiformity of detail. We imagine a globe and clothe it with a few terrestrial attributes, and in our minds this fragmentary notion does duty as a symbol of the earth. The case becomes still more striking when we have to deal with conceptions of the universe, of cosmic forces such as light and heat, or of the stupendous secular changes which modern science calls us to contemplate. Here our conceptions cannot even pretend to represent the objects; they are as purely symbolic as the algebraic equations whereby the geometer expresses the shapes of curves. Yet so long as there are means of verification at our command, we can reason as safely with these symbolic conceptions as if they were truly representative. The geometer can at any moment translate his equation into an actual curve, and thereby test the results of his reasoning; and the case is similar with the undulatory theory of light, the chemist's conception of atomicity, and other vast stretches of thought which in recent times have revolutionized our knowledge of Nature. The danger in the use of symbolic conceptions is the danger of framing illegitimate symbols that answer to nothing in heaven or earth, as has happened first and last with so many short-lived theories in science and in metaphysics. Forewarned of this danger, and therefore--I hope--forearmed against it, let us see what a scientific philosophy has to say about the Power that is manifested in and through the universe. XIII. _The Eternal Source of Phenomena._ We have seen that before men could arrive at the idea of God, before out of the old crude and fragmentary polytheisms there could be developed a pure and coherent theism, it was necessary that physical generalization should have advanced far enough to enable them, however imperfectly, to reason about the universe as a whole. It was a faint glimpse of the unity of Nature that first led men to the conception of the unity of God, and as their knowledge of the phenomenal fact becomes clearer, so must their grasp upon the noumenal truth behind it become firmer. Now the whole tendency of modern science is to impress upon us ever more forcibly the truth that the entire knowable universe is an immense unit, animated throughout all its parts by a single principle of life. This conclusion, which was long ago borne in upon the minds of prophetic thinkers, like Spinoza and Goethe, through their keen appreciation of the significance of the physical harmonies known to them, has during the last fifty years received something like a demonstration in detail. It is since Goethe's death, for example, that it has been proved that the Newtonian law of gravitation extends to the bodies which used to be called fixed stars. That such was the case was already much more than probable, but so lately as 1835 there were to be found writers on science, such as Comte, who denied that it could ever be proved. But a still more impressive illustration of the unity of Nature is furnished by the luminiferous ether, when considered in connection with the discovery of the correlation of forces. The fathomless abysses of space can no longer be talked of as empty; they are filled with a wonderful substance, unlike any of the forms of matter which we can weigh and measure. A cosmic jelly almost infinitely hard and elastic, it offers at the same time no appreciable resistance to the movements of the heavenly bodies. It is so sensitive that a shock in any part of it causes a "tremour which is felt on the surface of countless worlds." Radiating in every direction, from millions of centric points, run shivers of undulation manifested in endless metamorphosis as heat, or light, or actinism, as magnetism or electricity. Crossing one another in every imaginable way, as if all space were crowded with a mesh-work of nerve-threads, these motions go on forever in a harmony that nothing disturbs. Thus every part of the universe shares in the life of all the other parts, as when in the solar atmosphere, pulsating at its temperature of a million degrees Fahrenheit, a slight breeze instantly sways the needles in every compass-box on the face of the earth. Still further striking confirmation is found in the marvellous disclosures of spectrum analysis. To whatever part of the heavens we turn the telescope, armed with this new addition to our senses, we find the same chemical elements with which the present century has made us familiar upon the surface of the earth. From the distant worlds of Arcturus and the Pleiades, whence the swift ray of light takes many years to reach us, it brings the story of the hydrogen and oxygen, the vapour of iron or sodium, which set it in motion. Thus in all parts of the universe that have fallen within our ken we find a unity of chemical composition. Nebulæ, stars, and planets are all made of the same materials, and on every side we behold them in different stages of development, worlds in the making: here an irregular nebula such as our solar system once was, there a nebula whose rotation has at length wrought it into spheroidal form; here and there stars of varied colours marking different eras in chemical evolution; now planets still partly incandescent like Saturn and Jupiter, then planets like Mars and the earth, with cool atmospheres and solid continents and vast oceans of water; and lastly such bodies as the moon, vapourless, rigid, and cold in death. Still nearer do we come toward realizing the unity of Nature when we recollect that the law of evolution is not only the same for all these various worlds, but is also the same throughout all other orders of phenomena. Not only in the development of cosmical bodies, including the earth, but also in the development of life upon the earth's surface and in the special development of those complex manifestations of life known as human societies, the most general and fundamental features of the process are the same, so that it has been found possible to express them in a single universal formula. And what is most striking of all, this notable formula, under which Herbert Spencer has succeeded in generalizing the phenomena of universal evolution, was derived from the formula under which Von Baer in 1829 first generalized the mode of development of organisms from their embryos. That a law of evolution first partially detected among the phenomena of the organic world should thereafter not only be found applicable to all other orders of phenomena, but should find in this application its first complete and coherent statement, is a fact of wondrous and startling significance. It means that the universe as a whole is thrilling in every fibre with Life,--not, indeed, life in the usual restricted sense, but life in a general sense. The distinction, once deemed absolute, between the living and the not-living is converted into a relative distinction; and Life as manifested in the organism is seen to be only a specialized form of the Universal Life. The conception of matter as dead or inert belongs, indeed, to an order of thought that modern knowledge has entirely outgrown. If the study of physics has taught us anything, it is that nowhere in Nature is inertness or quiescence to be found. All is quivering with energy. From particle to particle without cessation the movement passes on, reappearing from moment to moment under myriad Protean forms, while the rearrangements of particles incidental to the movement constitute the qualitative differences among things. Now in the language of physics all motions of matter are manifestations of force, to which we can assign neither beginning nor end. Matter is indestructible, motion is continuous, and beneath both these universal truths lies the fundamental truth that force is persistent. The farthest reach in science that has ever been made was made when it was proved by Herbert Spencer that the law of universal evolution is a necessary consequence of the persistence of force. It has shown us that all the myriad phenomena of the universe, all its weird and subtle changes, in all their minuteness from moment to moment, in all their vastness from age to age, are the manifestations of a single animating principle that is both infinite and eternal. By what name, then, shall we call this animating principle of the universe, this eternal source of phenomena? Using the ordinary language of physics, we have just been calling it Force, but such a term in no wise enlightens us. Taken by itself it is meaningless; it acquires its meaning only from the relations in which it is used. It is a mere symbol, like the algebraic expression which stands for a curve. Of what, then, is it the symbol? The words which we use are so enwrapped in atmospheres of subtle associations that they are liable to sway the direction of our thoughts in ways of which we are often unconscious. It is highly desirable that physics should have a word as thoroughly abstract, as utterly emptied of all connotations of personality, as possible, so that it may be used like a mathematical symbol. Such a word is Force. But what we are now dealing with is by no means a scientific abstraction. It is the most concrete and solid of realities, the one Reality which underlies all appearances, and from the presence of which we can never escape. Suppose, then, that we translate our abstract terminology into something that is more concrete. Instead of the force which persists, let us speak of the Power which is always and everywhere manifested in phenomena. Our question, then, becomes, What is this infinite and eternal Power like? What kind of language shall we use in describing it? Can we regard it as in any wise "material," or can we speak of its universal and ceaseless activity as in any wise the working of a "blind necessity"? For here, at length, we have penetrated to the innermost kernel of the problem; and upon the answer must depend our mental attitude toward the mystery of existence. The answer is that we cannot regard the infinite and eternal Power as in any wise "material," nor can we attribute its workings to "blind necessity." The eternal source of phenomena is the source of what we see and hear and touch; it is the source of what we call matter, but it cannot itself be material. Matter is but the generalized name we give to those modifications which we refer immediately to an unknown something outside of ourselves. It was long ago shown that all the qualities of matter are what the mind makes them, and have no existence as such apart from the mind. In the deepest sense all that we really know is mind, and as Clifford would say, what we call the material universe is simply an imperfect picture in our minds of a real universe of mind-stuff.[22] Our own mind we know directly; our neighbour's mind we know by inference; that which is external to both is a Power hidden from sense, which causes states of consciousness that are similar in both. Such states of consciousness we call material qualities, and matter is nothing but the sum of such qualities. To speak of the hidden Power itself as "material" is therefore not merely to state what is untrue,--it is to talk nonsense. We are bound to conceive of the Eternal Reality in terms of the only reality that we know, or else refrain from conceiving it under any form whatever. But the latter alternative is clearly impossible.[23] We might as well try to escape from the air in which we breathe as to expel from consciousness the Power which is manifested throughout what we call the material universe. But the only conclusion we can consistently hold is that this is the very same power "which in ourselves wells up under the form of consciousness." In the nature-worship of primitive men, beneath all the crudities of thought by which it was overlaid and obscured, there was thus after all an essential germ of truth which modern philosophy is constrained to recognize and reiterate. As the unity of Nature has come to be demonstrated, innumerable finite powers, once conceived as psychical and deified, have been generalized into a single infinite Power that is still thought of as psychical. From the crudest polytheism we have thus, by a slow evolution, arrived at pure monotheism,--the recognition of the eternal God indwelling in the universe, in whom we live and move and have our being. But in thus conceiving of God as psychical, as a Being with whom the human soul in the deepest sense owns kinship, we must beware of too carelessly ascribing to Him those specialized psychical attributes characteristic of humanity, which one and all imply limitation and weakness. We must not forget the warning of the prophet Isaiah: "My thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, saith the Lord. For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways, and my thoughts than your thoughts." Omniscience, for example, has been ascribed to God in every system of theism; yet the psychical nature to which all events, past, present, and future, can be always simultaneously present is clearly as far removed from the limited and serial psychical nature of Man as the heavens are higher than the earth. We are not so presumptuous, therefore, as to attempt, with some theologians of the anthropomorphic school, to inquire minutely into the character of the divine decrees and purposes. But our task would be ill-performed were nothing more to be said about that craving after a final cause which we have seen to be an essential element in Man's religious nature. It remains to be shown that there is a reasonableness in the universe, that in the orderly sequence of events there is a meaning which appeals to our human intelligence. Without adopting Paley's method, which has been proved inadequate, we may nevertheless boldly aim at an object like that at which Paley aimed. Caution is needed, since we are dealing with a symbolic conception as to which the very point in question is whether there is any reality that answers to it. The problem is a hard one, but here we suddenly get powerful help from the doctrine of evolution, and especially from that part of it known as the Darwinian theory. XIV. _The Power that makes for Righteousness._ Although it was the Darwinian theory of natural selection which overthrew the argument from design, yet--as I have argued in another place--when thoroughly understood it will be found to replace as much teleology as it destroys.[24] Indeed, the doctrine of evolution, in all its chapters, has a certain teleological aspect, although it does not employ those methods which in the hands of the champions of final causes have been found so misleading. The doctrine of evolution does not regard any given arrangement of things as scientifically explained when it is shown to subserve some good purpose, but it seeks its explanation in such antecedent conditions as may have been competent to bring about the arrangement in question. Nevertheless, the doctrine of evolution is not only perpetually showing us the purposes which the arrangements of Nature subserve, but throughout one large section of the ground which it covers it points to a discernible dramatic tendency, a clearly-marked progress of events toward a mighty goal. Now it especially concerns us to note that this large section is just the one, and the only one, which our powers of imagination are able to compass. The astronomic story of the universe is altogether too vast for us to comprehend in such wise as to tell whether it shows any dramatic tendency or not.[25] But in the story of the evolution of life upon the surface of our earth, where alone we are able to compass the phenomena, we see all things working together, through countless ages of toil and trouble, toward one glorious consummation. It is therefore a fair inference, though a bold one, that if our means of exploration were such that we could compass the story of all the systems of worlds that shine in the spacious firmament, we should be able to detect a similar meaning. At all events, the story which we can decipher is sufficiently impressive and consoling. It clothes our theistic belief with moral significance, reveals the intense and solemn reality of religion, and fills the heart with tidings of great joy. The glorious consummation toward which organic evolution is tending is the production of the highest and most perfect psychical life. Already the germs of this conclusion existed in the Darwinian theory as originally stated, though men were for a time too busy with other aspects of the theory to pay due attention to them. In the natural selection of such individual peculiarities as conduce to the survival of the species, and in the evolution by this process of higher and higher creatures endowed with capacities for a richer and more varied life, there might have been seen a well-marked dramatic tendency, toward the _dénouement_ of which every one of the myriad little acts of life and death during the entire series of geologic æons was assisting. The whole scheme was teleological, and each single act of natural selection had a teleological meaning. Herein lies the reason why the theory so quickly destroyed that of Paley. It did not merely refute it, but supplanted it with explanations which had the merit of being truly scientific, while at the same time they hit the mark at which natural theology had unsuccessfully aimed. Such was the case with the Darwinian theory as first announced. But since it has been more fully studied in its application to the genesis of Man, a wonderful flood of light has been thrown upon the meaning of evolution, and there appears a reasonableness in the universe such as had not appeared before. It has been shown that the genesis of Man was due to a change in the direction of the working of natural selection, whereby psychical variations were selected to the neglect of physical variations. It has been shown that one chief result of this change was the lengthening of infancy, whereby Man appeared on the scene as a plastic creature capable of unlimited psychical progress. It has been shown that one chief result of the lengthening of infancy was the origination of the family and of human society endowed with rudimentary moral ideas and moral sentiments. It has been shown that through these coöperating processes the difference between Man and all lower creatures has come to be a difference in kind transcending all other differences; that his appearance upon the earth marked the beginning of the final stage in the process of development, the last act in the great drama of creation; and that all the remaining work of evolution must consist in the perfecting of the creature thus marvellously produced. It has been further shown that the perfecting of Man consists mainly in the ever-increasing predominance of the life of the soul over the life of the body. And lastly, it has been shown that, whereas the earlier stages of human progress have been characterized by a struggle for existence like that through which all lower forms of life have been developed, nevertheless the action of natural selection upon Man is coming to an end, and his future development will be accomplished through the direct adaptation of his wonderfully plastic intelligence to the circumstances in which it is placed. Hence it has appeared that war and all forms of strife, having ceased to discharge their normal function, and having thus become unnecessary, will slowly die out;[26] that the feelings and habits adapted to ages of strife will ultimately perish from disuse; and that a stage of civilization will be reached in which human sympathy shall be all in all, and the spirit of Christ shall reign supreme throughout the length and breadth of the earth. These conclusions, with the grounds upon which they are based, have been succinctly set forth in my little book entitled "The Destiny of Man viewed in the Light of his Origin." Startling as they may have seemed to some, they are no more so than many of the other truths which have been brought home to us during this unprecedented age. They are the fruit of a wide induction from the most vitally important facts which the doctrine of evolution has set forth; and they may fairly claim recognition as an integral body of philosophic doctrine fit to stand the test of time. Here they are summarized as the final step in my argument concerning the true nature of theism. They add new meanings to the idea of God, as it is affected by modern knowledge, while at the same time they do but give articulate voice to time-honoured truths which it was feared the skepticism of our age might have rendered dumb and powerless. For if we express in its most concentrated form the meaning of these conclusions regarding Man's origin and destiny, we find that it affords the full justification of the fundamental ideas and sentiments which have animated religion at all times. We see Man still the crown and glory of the universe and the chief object of divine care, yet still the lame and halting creature, loaded with a brute-inheritance of original sin, whose ultimate salvation is slowly to be achieved through ages of moral discipline. We see the chief agency which produced him--natural selection which always works through strife--ceasing to operate upon him, so that, until human strife shall be brought to an end, there goes on a struggle between his lower and his higher impulses, in which the higher must finally conquer. And in all this we find the strongest imaginable incentive to right living, yet one that is still the same in principle with that set forth by the great Teacher who first brought men to the knowledge of the true God. As to the conception of Deity, in the shape impressed upon it by our modern knowledge, I believe I have now said enough to show that it is no empty formula or metaphysical abstraction which we would seek to substitute for the living God. The infinite and eternal Power that is manifested in every pulsation of the universe is none other than the living God. We may exhaust the resources of metaphysics in debating how far his nature may fitly be expressed in terms applicable to the psychical nature of Man; such vain attempts will only serve to show how we are dealing with a theme that must ever transcend our finite powers of conception. But of some things we may feel sure. Humanity is not a mere local incident in an endless and aimless series of cosmical changes. The events of the universe are not the work of chance, neither are they the outcome of blind necessity. Practically there is a purpose in the world whereof it is our highest duty to learn the lesson, however well or ill we may fare in rendering a scientific account of it. When from the dawn of life we see all things working together toward the evolution of the highest spiritual attributes of Man, we know, however the words may stumble in which we try to say it, that God is in the deepest sense a moral Being. The everlasting source of phenomena is none other than the infinite Power that makes for righteousness. Thou canst not by searching find Him out; yet put thy trust in Him, and against thee the gates of hell shall not prevail; for there is neither wisdom nor understanding nor counsel against the Eternal. NOTES. A.--MEDITATIONS OF A SAVAGE. In the presence of the great mystery of existence, the thoughts of the untutored savage are not always so very unlike those of civilized men, as we may see from the following pathetic words of a Kafir, named Sekese, in conversation with a French traveller, M. Arbrouseille, on the subject of the Christian religion:-- "Your tidings," said this uncultivated barbarian, "are what I want, and I was seeking before I knew you, as you shall hear and judge for yourself. Twelve years ago I went to feed my flocks; the weather was hazy. I sat down upon a rock and asked myself sorrowful questions; yes, sorrowful, because I was unable to answer them. Who has touched the stars with his hands--on what pillars do they rest, I asked myself. The waters never weary, they know no other law than to flow without ceasing from morning till night and from night till morning; but where do they stop, and who makes them flow thus? The clouds also come and go, and burst in water over the earth. Whence come they--who sends them? The diviners certainly do not give us rain; for how could they do it? and why do not I see them with my own eyes when they go up to heaven to fetch it? I cannot see the wind; but what is it? who brings it, makes it blow and roar and terrify us? Do I know how the corn sprouts? Yesterday there was not a blade in my field, to-day I returned to the field and found some; who can have given to the earth the wisdom and the power to produce it? Then I buried my head in both my hands."--Cited in PICTON, _Mystery of Matter_, p. 222. B.--THE NAME _GOD_. None of the dictionaries offer a satisfactory explanation of the word _God_. It was once commonly supposed to be related to the adjective _good_, but Grimm long ago showed that this connection is, to say the least, very improbable. It has also been sought to identify it with Persian _Khodâ_, from Zend _qvadata_, Skr. _svadata_, Lat. _a se datus_, in which the idea is that of self-existence; but this fanciful etymology was exploded by Aufrecht. The arrant guesswork of Donaldson, who would connect _God_ with +kalos+, and +theos+ with +tithêmi+ (New Cratylus, p. 710), scarcely deserves mention in these days. Among the more scientific philologists of our time, August Fick, in treating of the "Wortschatz der germanischen Spracheinheit," simply refers _God_ to a primitive Teutonic _gutha_, and says no more about it. (Vergl. Woerterbuch der indogermanischen Sprachen, III. 107.) He is followed by Skeat (Etymological Dictionary, p. 238), who adds that there is "no connection with _good_." Eduard Müller says: "So bedenklich die zusammenstellung mit _good_, so fraglich ist doch auch noch die urverwandtschaft mit pers. _Khodâ_ gott, oder skr. _gûdha_ mysterium, oder skr. _guddha_ purus; Heyne: 'als sich verhüllender, unsichtbarer, vgl. skr. _guh_ für _gudh_ celare.'" (Woerterbuch der englischen Sprache, p. 456.) Max Müller has much more plausibly suggested that _God_ was formerly a heathen name for the Deity, which passed into Christian usage, like the Latin _Deus_. (Science of Language, 6th ed. II. 317.) Following this hint, I suggested, several years ago (North Amer. Review, Oct. 1869, p. 354), that _God_ is probably identical with _Wodan_ or _Odin_, the name of the great Northern deity, the chief object of the worship of our forefathers. This relation of an initial _G_ to an initial _W_ is a very common one; as for example _Guillaume_ and _William_, _guerre_ and _war_, _guardian_ and _warden_, _guile_ and _wile_. The same thing is seen in Armorican _guasta_ and Ital. _guastare_, as compared with Lat. _vastare_, Eng. _waste_; and in the Eng. _quick_, Goth. _quivs_, Lat. _vivus_. In Erchempert's Historia Langobardorum, 11, Pertz, III. 245, we find _Ludoguicus_ for _Ludovicus_. Not only is this relation a common one, but there are plenty of specific instances of it in the case of _Wodan_. In Germany we have the town names of _Godesberg_, _Gudenberg_, and _Godensholt_, all derived from _Wodan_. In the Westphalian dialect, _Wednesday_ ("day of Wodan") is called _Godenstag_ or _Gunstag_; in Nether-Rhenish, _Gudenstag_; in Flemish, _Goenstag_. See Thorpe, Northern Mythol. I. 229; Taylor, Words and Places, 323; and cf. Grimm, Gesch. der deutschen Sprache, 296. The Westphalian Saxons wrote both _Guodan_ and _Gudan_. _Odin_ was also called _Godin_ (Laing, Heimskringla, I. 74), and Paulus Diaconus tells us that the Lombards pronounced _Wodan_ as _Guodan_. In view of such a convergence of proofs, I am surprised that attention was not long ago called to this etymology. Wodan was originally the storm-spirit or animating genius of the wind, answering in many respects to the Greek Hermes and the Vedic Sarameyas. See my Myths and Myth-makers, 19, 20, 32, 35, 67, 124, 204; and cf. Mackay, Religious Development of the Greeks and Hebrews, i. 260-273. REFERENCES. M. M., Myths and Myth-makers, 1872; C. P., Outlines of Cosmic Philosophy, 1874; U. W., The Unseen World, 1876; D., Darwinism and Other Essays, 1879; E. E., Excursions of an Evolutionist, 1884; D. M., The Destiny of Man, 1884; A. P. I., American Political Ideas, 1885. [1] E. E. 56-77. [2] C. P. i. 230. [3] C. P. i. 157, 177-179. [4] M. M. 18-21, _et passim_. [5] M. M. 220. [6] M. M. 232. [7] M. M. 236; E. E. 251. [8] A. P. I. 78, 81. [9] U. W. 10. [10] D. M. 104-107. [11] E. E. 262. [12] M. M. 236. [13] C. P. ii. 383. [14] U. W. 118. [15] D. 5-8; C. P. ii. 283. [16, 17] C. P. ii. 428. [18] C. P. i. 183; ii. 449. [19] M. M. 122. [20] C. P. ii. 405. [21] C. P. ii. 381-410. [22] E. E. 327-336. [23] C. P. ii. 449. [24] D. M. 113; cf. C. P. ii. 406. [25] D. 103. [26] D. M. 77-95; A. P. I. 101-152. IMPORTANT BOOKS BY JOHN FISKE. =OUTLINES OF COSMIC PHILOSOPHY=, based on the Doctrine of Evolution. With Criticisms on the Positive Philosophy. 2 vols. 8vo, pp. 465, 523, $6.00. Mr. DARWIN, after reading this work, wrote as follows to Mr. Fiske:-- "You must allow me to thank you for the very great interest with which I have at last slowly read the whole of your work.... I never in my life read so lucid an expositor (and therefore thinker) as you are; and I think that I understand nearly the whole, though perhaps less clearly about cosmic theism and causation than other parts. It is hopeless to attempt out of so much to specify what has interested me most, and probably you would not care to hear. It pleased me to find that here and there I had arrived, from my own crude thoughts, at some of the same conclusions with you, though I could seldom or never have given my reasons for such conclusions." This work of Mr. Fiske's may be not unfairly designated the most important contribution yet made by America to philosophical literature.... His theory of the influence of prolonged infancy upon social development (Part II., chap. xxii.) entitles Mr. Fiske's work to be considered a distinctly important contribution to the theory of the origin of species, and of the origin of man in particular.--_Academy_ (London). His most important suggestion, that of the influence of the long period of feeble adolescence upon man's social development, is, we think, a permanent contribution to the development theory.--_Nation_ (New York). He recognizes Mr. Spencer as his teacher and guide; but he has moulded the doctrines of his master into a popular form, surrounded them with fresh and vivid illustrations, pointed out their bearing upon great practical questions of the day, and amply supplied the reader with materials for forming an intelligent judgment with respect to their merits. Mr. Fiske is himself a thinker of rare acuteness and depth; his affluent store of knowledge is exhibited on every page; and his mastery of expression is equal to his subtlety of speculation.--GEORGE RIPLEY, in _Tribune_ (New York). Mr. Fiske's work ... is the first important contribution made by America to the evolution philosophy, ... and is well worth the study of all who wish to see at once the entire scope and purport of the scientific dogmatism of the day.--_Saturday Review_ (London). The author asserts that a system of philosophy has been constructed, out of purely scientific materials, ... which opposes a direct negative to every one of the theorems of which Positivism is made up.--_Scotsman_ (Edinburgh). Mr. Fiske is not a mere compiler from Mr. Spencer's works, nor is he simply a popularizer of an abstruse theory. He works his way to the chief results of Mr. Spencer's argument with independence and self-reliance. In many places he has presented his master's doctrine in new aspects or carried it forward to new conclusions, while throughout he adds something to the original from which he draws by freshness of illustration and individuality of literary style.... It is curious to note the almost fierce persistence with which the author returns again and again to an attack on the doctrines of Comte.... The most striking part of Mr. Fiske's social speculations is the hypothesis by which he proposes to bridge over the gulf which divides the merely gregarious and sympathetic brutes from morally constituted man (Part II., chap. xxii.).--JAMES SULLY, in _Examiner_ (London). Mr. Fiske is a disciple who thinks for himself, and who has no hesitation, when necessary, in criticising him whom he acknowledges as master.... He is so thoroughly imbued with the philosophic spirit that his work merits a careful perusal; it has the especial attraction of being written in excellent temper and admirable English.--_Daily News_ (London). Mr. Fiske's work shows a complete and independent mastery of the subject in all its bearings, together with a power of lucid and vigorous exposition unexcelled in any philosophical work with which we are acquainted.--_Daily Globe_ (Boston). It is our best American book on the evolution philosophy, and deserves to rank with the productions of the great English thinkers.--_Index_ (Boston). =DARWINISM AND OTHER ESSAYS.= New Edition, enlarged. 12mo, pp. 283, $2.00. CONTENTS: Darwinism Verified; Mr. Mivart on Darwinism; Dr. Bateman on Darwinism; Dr. Büchner on Darwinism; A Crumb for the "Modern Symposium;" Chauncey Wright; What is Inspiration? Modern Witchcraft; Comte's Positive Philosophy; Mr. Buckle's Fallacies; Postscript on Mr. Buckle; The Races of the Danube; Liberal Education; University Reform; A Librarian's Work. If ever there was a spirit thoroughly invigorated by the "joy of right understanding" it is that of the author of these pieces. Even the reader catches something of his intellectual buoyancy, and is thus carried almost lightly through discussions which would be hard and dry in the hands of a less animated writer.... No less confident and serene than his acceptance of the utmost logical results of recent scientific discovery is Mr. Fiske's assurance that the foundations of spiritual truths, so called, cannot possibly be shaken thereby.... Warm personal admiration and acute critical discernment could not well be blended in finer proportions than in the article on the lamented Mr. Wright.... The article on Mr. Buckle's Fallacies has one aspect more remarkable than all the rest. It was written and published when the "History of Civilization" was new,--that is to say, when the writer was nineteen years of age; and the years--almost nineteen more--which have elapsed since then have rather confirmed than detracted from its value as a piece of criticism. The judgment of posterity on the most ambitious book of its generation, and one of the most bewildering, was actually anticipated by a stripling, and its final rank assigned with singular fairness and precision. Scarcely even in the style is there a trace of immaturity.... The essay on the Races of the Danube forcibly suggests the idea that Mr. Fiske has qualities of mind, almost unused hitherto, which would make him an exceptionally valuable writer of history.--_Atlantic Monthly._ The article on the Races of the Danube shows that Mr. Fiske has a special talent for history.--_Nation_ (New York). * * * * * =MYTHS AND MYTH-MAKERS=: Old Tales and Superstitions interpreted by Comparative Mythology. 12mo, pp. 251, $2.00. CONTENTS: The Origins of Folk-Lore; The Descent of Fire; Werewolves and Swan-Maidens; Light and Darkness; Myths of the Barbaric World; Juventus Mundi; The Primeval Ghost-World. Mr. Fiske has given us a book which is at once sensible and attractive, on a subject about which much is written that is crotchety or tedious.--W. R. S. RALSTON, in _Athenæum_ (London). This volume is not a text-book of scientific mythology. It contains seven essays crowded with quotations and examples, in the abundant use of which the writer's learning is not more conspicuous than his literary skill. Not everybody can shape and control such wealth of material.--_Christian Union_ (New York). He has, as we must admit, one qualification for attaining his object, in being completely master of his subject, and in knowing also how to treat it in an attractive manner.--FELIX LIEBRECHT, in _Academy_ (London). It is extremely interesting for its happy combination of psychologic analysis with a study of the primitive beliefs of mankind.... A perusal of this thorough work cannot be too strongly recommended to all who are interested in comparative mythology.--_Revue Critique_ (Paris). Mr. Fiske is a master of perspicuous explanation.--_World_ (New York). Its weight of sense and its lucidity will extend Mr. Fiske's reputation as one of the clearest-minded, most conscientiously laborious and well-trained students in this country.--_Nation_ (New York). With the capacity for profound research and the power of critical consideration, he has a singular grace of style, and an art of clear and simple statement, which will not let the most indifferent refuse knowledge of the topics treated. In such a field as the discussion of old fables and superstitions affords, we have not only to admire Mr. Fiske for the charm of his manner, but for the justice and honesty of his method.--_Atlantic Monthly._ It is both an amusing and instructive book, evincing large research, and giving its results in a lucid and attractive style.--E. P. WHIPPLE. * * * * * =THE UNSEEN WORLD, AND OTHER ESSAYS.= 12mo, pp. 349, $2.00. CONTENTS: The Unseen World; The To-morrow of Death; The Jesus of History; The Christ of Dogma; A Word about Miracles; Draper on Science and Religion; Nathan the Wise; Historical Difficulties; The Famine of 1770 in Bengal; Spain and the Netherlands; Longfellow's Dante; Paine's St. Peter; A Philosophy of Art; Athenian and American Life. We think every one will remark, while examining this volume, the variety of subjects treated; and if anybody has formed an opinion that Mr. Fiske is a man who cares for nothing but myths and philosophy, he will find occasion to correct it. Many of these papers are critical reviews of important books widely different in their subjects; but to each study the writer seems to have brought, besides an excellent quality of discriminating judgment, full and fresh special knowledge, that enables him to supply much information on the subject, whatever it may be, that is not to be found in the volume he is noticing. To the knowledge, analytical power, and faculty of clear statement, that appear in all these papers, Mr. Fiske adds a just independence of thought that conciliates respectful consideration of his views, even when they are most at variance with the commonly accepted ones.--_Boston Advertiser._ Of all the criticism and discussion called forth both in this country and in England by that remarkable little book, "The Unseen Universe," Mr. John Fiske's "Unseen World" is at once the most profound, the most comprehensive, and the most lucid.... The mere statement of a thought in his perspicuous and translucent language gives it, in most cases, a new meaning and an added force.--_Appletons' Journal._ They are all striking compositions, and deserving of a place in the fore rank of this kind of literature. It is not often that more robust and healthy reading can be found between the covers of a single volume.--_San Francisco Bulletin._ The vigor, the earnestness, the honesty, and the freedom from cant and subtlety in his writing are exceedingly refreshing. He is a scholar, a critic, and a thinker of the first order.--_Christian Register._ Mr. Fiske has won for himself a foremost place among American writers on physical science; and the present volume of essays bears testimony not only to his ability as a physicist, but to his versatility of mind and critical powers as well.--_Canadian Monthly._ He is one of our foremost religious thinkers.--_Times_ (New York). The line of argument is so plain that all can follow it, and the style is wondrously charming.--_Index_ (Boston). Mr. John Fiske is a devoted student of Dante. The review of Mr. Longfellow's work is an admirable essay upon translating Dante,--an essay showing a very fine critical feeling and thorough knowledge of the subject.--_Transcript_ (Boston). He is a scholar profoundly versed in ancient and modern lore, a thinker familiar with all shades of thought, an observer who studies men as well as books, and withal a writer of the purest and most graphic English.--_Inter-Ocean_ (Chicago). He finely exposes the materialistic character of the book called the "Unseen Universe," which has been so highly extolled by the "Southern Cross" and other papers.--_Advertiser_ (Maryborough, Australia). The book has a unity and charm in the clearness of the thought and the beauty of such a style as was perhaps never before brought to the illustration of the topics with which Mr. Fiske habitually deals. There is something better still in the admirable spirit of his writing; it is of all writing of its sort, probably, the most humane.... He has already achieved a place as wholly his own as it is eminent.--_Atlantic Monthly._ * * * * * =EXCURSIONS OF AN EVOLUTIONIST.= 12mo, pp. 379, $2.00. CONTENTS: Europe before the Arrival of Man; The Arrival of Man in Europe; Our Aryan Forefathers; What we learn from Old Aryan Words; Was there a Primeval Mother-Tongue? Sociology and Hero-Worship; Heroes of Industry; The Causes of Persecution; The Origins of Protestantism; The True Lesson of Protestantism; Evolution and Religion; The Meaning of Infancy; A Universe of Mind-Stuff; In Memoriam: Charles Darwin. Among our thoughtful essayists there are none more brilliant than Mr. John Fiske. His pure style suits his clear thought. He does not write unless he has something to say; and when he does write he shows not only that he has thoroughly acquainted himself with the subject, but that he has to a rare degree the art of so massing his matter as to bring out the true value of the leading points in artistic relief. It is this perspective which makes his work such agreeable reading even on abstruse subjects, and has enabled him to play the same part in popularizing Spencer in this country that Littré performed for Comte in France, and Dumont for Bentham in England. The same qualities appear to good advantage in his new volume, which contains his later essays on his favorite subject of evolution.... They are well worth reperusal.--_The Nation_ (New York). These essays are all full of thought and worthy of preservation, while several of them are entitled to rank among the very best essays of American writers. For depth of thought, scholarship, literary taste, critical ability, and the power of clear and vigorous exposition _combined_, Mr. Fiske has no equal in this country and but few equals among European writers. He does not write on a subject until he has acquainted himself with it; and then he presents his thought, which often has the merit of originality, with a lucidness and attractiveness of style which make it easy to follow him in his treatment of even difficult topics. It is a pleasure to turn from our merely literary writers to the essays of Mr. Fiske, whose clear thought, discriminating judgment, and philosophic spirit, together with his fine taste and perspicuity of style, make his writings both instructive and entertaining.--_Index_ (Boston). The vividness and directness of the style is second only to the bracing and stimulating quality of the matter. This book comes nearer than anything we now think of among American publications to successfully popularizing the results of science without debilitating or misinterpreting the same. The first papers of the book particularly emulate the clearness of Huxley.... It compels assent to the dreaded "new way of looking at things," but in such a way that when the assent is given the dread is all gone. It is a good book for the busy preacher on account of its wealth of facts, so arranged as to reveal the thought that lies back of each fact. Each conclusion suggests a lesson.--_Unity_ (Chicago). Mr. Fiske, under the above title, makes his excursions through the realms of science, and evolves "evolution" in a most admirable manner--physical and psychical--by the "testimony of the rocks," and with wonderful wisdom explains the origin of matter and man so truthfully possible that it is accepted as exceedingly probable, if not certain, by the thoughtful reader. It is fascinating to read his proofs and speculations upon a subject grown so interesting, and the reader is disposed to apply the same term of praise upon his work as he bestowed upon Clifford: "Such scientific exposition as this is as beautiful as poetry."--_Hartford Post._ Mr. Fiske is the master of an extremely lucid and attractive literary style, and brings to all questions which he discusses the fruits of a very industrious reading and examination of authorities.... Whether one agrees with him or not one cannot fail to receive much instruction and definite intellectual impulse from the reading of this volume.... While heartily dissenting from many of the views advanced in this book, we commend it to all students who care for the honest judgment of an honest man.--_Christian Union._ =THE DESTINY OF MAN=, viewed in the Light of his Origin. 16mo, pp. 121, $1.00. CONTENTS: Man's Place in Nature as affected by the Copernican Theory; As affected by Darwinism; On the Earth there will never be a Higher Creature than Man; The Origin of Infancy; The Dawning of Consciousness; Lengthening of Infancy and Concomitant Increase of Brain Surface; Change in the Direction of the Working of Natural Selection; Growing Predominance of the Psychical Life; The Origins of Society and Morality; Improvableness of Man; Universal Warfare of Primeval Men; First checked by the Beginnings of Industrial Civilization; Methods of Political Development and Elimination of Warfare; End of the Working of Natural Selection upon Man; Throwing off the Brute-Inheritance; The Message of Christianity; The Question as to a Future Life. Mr. Fiske has long held rank as one of the most profound and exact of American thinkers, and his little monograph will serve to extend that deserved fame among a class of readers who are not ordinarily interested in the literature of science. Mr. Fiske's book is, in a word, a plea for faith in the immortality of man, based on the doctrine of evolution. With a superb command of all the knowledge bearing upon the philosophy of Darwinism, to which he has himself been a noteworthy contributor, Mr. Fiske sums up in eloquent periods the process of evolutionary creation from the origin of infancy to the beginnings of industrial and political development which have made human society what it is to-day; and then, looking into the future, he foretells how natural selection, working on the lines already marked out, shall attain its perfect work. The whole argument, or rather exposition, is a marvel of condensation.--_Boston Traveller._ Mr. Fiske has given us in his "Destiny of Man" a most attractive condensation of his views as expressed in his various other works. One is charmed by the directness and clearness of his style, his simple and pure English, and his evident knowledge of his subject.... Of one thing we may be sure, that none are leading us more surely or rapidly to the full truth than men like the author of this little book, who reverently study the works of God for the lessons which he would teach his children.--_Christian Union_ (New York). Professor Fiske is always interesting. His exposition, step by step, of the doctrine of evolution, is admirably adapted for those prejudiced against it to read--simple, pleasant, and clear, and expressly designed to disarm hostility by showing that it is by no means absolutely incompatible with accepted religious beliefs--at least, with their essential qualities.--_Overland Monthly_ (San Francisco). It is a remarkable contribution to the literature of religious thought.... It will prove that evolution is at least not irreverent.... It is packed full of learning and suggestion, in a style at once simple and beautiful, and is worth a dozen volumes of ordinary sermons.--_Philadelphia Press._ This essay will and should attract wide attention, founded as it is upon modern science and marking the way in an advanced path in religio-scientific inquiry. Mr. Fiske is acknowledged one of the first of scientific thinkers, and his conclusions have more than the usual weight.--_Albany Journal._ His little volume will be highly prized by those who enjoy seeing one of the most profound themes which can occupy the attention treated with eloquence and strength, with scientific insight and imaginative vigor.--_Buffalo Commercial Advertiser._ The reverent spirit of the book, the wide range of illustrations, the remarkable lucidity of thought and style, and the noble eloquence that characterizes it, render this book one of striking value and interest.--_Salem Gazette._ =THE IDEA OF GOD AS AFFECTED BY MODERN KNOWLEDGE.= 16mo, $1.00. This essay is a sequel to "The Destiny of Man." Its object is to show that the indications of Science and Philosophy are theistic, not atheistic; that while the idea of God has been greatly modified by modern knowledge, it has not been lost or belittled, but magnified and illuminated. The essay is prefaced by a long Introduction of remarkable interest, and the whole book is full of significance and charm for all thoughtful minds. HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN & CO., PUBLISHERS, BOSTON. * * * * * Transcriber's Notes Variations in spelling and punctuation are as in the original, except in cases of obvious typographical error. Each chapter of the book begins and most end with a decorative panel. These have not been referenced in this text. Italics are represented thus _italic_ bold thus =bold= and Greek thus +greek+. 
46986	----	THE CHRIST A Critical Review and Analysis of the Evidences of His Existence By JOHN E. REMSBURG "We must get rid of that Christ." --Emerson New York THE TRUTH SEEKER COMPANY Forty-nine Vesey Street. To My Wife Nora M. Remsburg This Volume is Inscribed Humbly he came, Veiling his horrible Godhead in the shape Of man, scorned by the world, his name unheard Save by the rabble of his native town, Even as a parish demagogue. He led The crowd; he taught them justice, truth, and peace, In semblance; but he lit within their souls The quenchless flames of zeal, and blessed the sword He brought on earth to satiate with the blood Of truth and freedom his malignant soul. At length his mortal frame was led to death. I stood beside him; on the torturing cross No pain assailed his unterrestrial sense; And yet he groaned. Indignantly I summed The massacres and miseries which his name Had sanctioned in my country, and I cried "Go! Go!" in mockery. --Shelley. PREFACE. "We must get rid of that Christ, we must get rid of that Christ!" So spake one of the wisest, one of the most lovable of men, Ralph Waldo Emerson. "If I had my way," said Thomas Carlyle, "the world would hear a pretty stern command--Exit Christ." Since Emerson and Carlyle spoke a revolution has taken place in the thoughts of men. The more enlightened of them are now rid of Christ. From their minds he has made his exit. To quote the words of Prof. Goldwin Smith, "The mighty and supreme Jesus, who was to transfigure all humanity by his divine wit and grace--this Jesus has flown." The supernatural Christ of the New Testament, the god of orthodox Christianity, is dead. But priestcraft lives and conjures up the ghost of this dead god to frighten and enslave the masses of mankind. The name of Christ has caused more persecutions, wars, and miseries than any other name has caused. The darkest wrongs are still inspired by it. The wails of anguish that went up from Kishenev, Odessa, and Bialystok still vibrate in our ears. Two notable works controverting the divinity of Christ appeared in the last century, the Leben Jesu of Strauss, and the Vie de Jesus of Renan. Strauss in his work, one of the masterpieces of Freethought literature, endeavors to prove, and proves to the satisfaction of a majority of his readers, that Jesus Christ is a historical myth. This work possesses permanent value, but it was written for the scholar and not for the general reader. In the German and Latin versions, and in the admirable English translation of Marian Evans (George Eliot), the citations from the Gospels--and they are many--are in Greek. Renan's "Life of Jesus," written in Palestine, has had, especially in its abridged form, an immense circulation, and has been a potent factor in the dethronement of Christ. It is a charming book and displays great learning. But it is a romance, not a biography. The Jesus of Renan, like the Satan of Milton, while suggested by the Bible, is a modern creation. The warp is to be found in the Four Gospels, but the woof was spun in the brain of the brilliant Frenchman. Of this book Renan's fellow-countryman, Dr. Jules Soury, thus writes: "It is to be feared that the beautiful, the 'divine,' dream, as he would say, which the eminent scholar experienced in the very country of the Gospel, will have the fate of the 'Joconda' of Da Vinci, and many of the religious pictures of Raphael and Michael Angelo. Such dreams are admirable, but they are bound to fade.... The Jesus who rises up and comes out from those old Judaizing writings (Synoptics) is truly no idyllic personage, no meek dreamer, no mild and amiable moralist; on the contrary, he is very much more of a Jew fanatic, attacking without measure the society of his time, a narrow and obstinate visionary, a half-lucid thaumaturge, subject to fits of passion, which caused him to be looked upon as crazy by his own people. In the eyes of his contemporaries and fellow-countrymen he was all that, and he is the same in ours." Renan himself repudiated to a considerable extent his earlier views regarding Jesus. When he wrote his work he accepted as authentic the Gospel of John, and to this Gospel he was indebted largely for the more admirable traits of his hero. John he subsequently rejected. Mark he accepted as the oldest and most authentic of the Gospels. Alluding to Mark he says: "It cannot be denied that Jesus is portrayed in this gospel not as a meek moralist worthy of our affection, but as a dreadful magician." This volume on "The Christ" was written by one who recognizes in the Jesus of Strauss and Renan a transitional step, but not the ultimate step, between orthodox Christianity and radical Freethought. By the Christ is understood the Jesus of the New Testament. The Jesus of the New Testament is the Christ of Christianity. The Jesus of the New Testament is a supernatural being. He is, like the Christ, a myth. He is the Christ myth. Originally the word Christ, the Greek for the Jewish Messiah, "the anointed," meant the office or title of a person, while Jesus was the name of the person on whom his followers had bestowed this title. Gradually the title took the place of the name, so that Jesus, Jesus Christ, and Christ became interchangeable terms--synonyms. Such they are to the Christian world, and such, by the law of common usage, they are to the secular world. It may be conceded as possible, and even probable, that a religious enthusiast of Galilee, named Jesus, was the germ of this mythical Jesus Christ. But this is an assumption rather than a demonstrated fact. Certain it is, this person, if he existed, was not a realization of the Perfect Man, as his admirers claim. There are passages in the Gospels which ascribe to him a lofty and noble character, but these, for the most part, betray too well their Pagan origin. The dedication of temples to him and the worship of him by those who deny his divinity is as irrational as it will prove ephemeral. One of the most philosophic and one of the most far-seeing minds of Germany, Dr. Edward von Hartmann, says: "When liberal Protestantism demands religious reverence for the man Jesus, it is disgusting and shocking. They cannot themselves believe that the respect in which Jesus is held by the people and which they have made use of in such an unprotestant manner, can be maintained for any length of time after the nimbus of divinity has been destroyed, and they may reflect on the insufficiency of the momentary subterfuge. The Protestant principle in its last consequences, disposes of all kinds of dogmatic authority in a remorseless manner, and its supporters must, whether they like it or not, dispense with the authority of Christ." CONTENTS. CHAPTER I. PAGE Christ's Real Existence Impossible 13 CHAPTER II. Silence of Contemporary Writers 24 CHAPTER III. Christian Evidence 50 CHAPTER IV. Infancy of Christ 65 CHAPTER V. Ministry of Christ 120 CHAPTER VI. Crucifixion of Christ 213 CHAPTER VII. Resurrection of Christ 296 CHAPTER VIII. His Character and Teachings 340 CHAPTER IX. The Christ a Myth 433 CHAPTER X. Sources of the Christ Myth--Ancient Religions 444 CHAPTER XI. Sources of the Christ Myth--Pagan Divinities 499 CHAPTER XII. Sources of the Christ Myth--Conclusion 566 THE CHRIST. CHAPTER I. CHRIST'S REAL EXISTENCE IMPOSSIBLE. The reader who accepts as divine the prevailing religion of our land may consider this criticism on "The Christ" irreverent and unjust. And yet for man's true saviors I have no lack of reverence. For him who lives and labors to uplift his fellow men I have the deepest reverence and respect, and at the grave of him who upon the altar of immortal truth has sacrificed his life I would gladly pay the sincere tribute of a mourner's tears. It is not against the man Jesus that I write, but against the Christ Jesus of theology; a being in whose name an Atlantic of innocent blood has been shed; a being in whose name the whole black catalogue of crime has been exhausted; a being in whose name five hundred thousand priests are now enlisted to keep "Truth forever on the scaffold, Wrong forever on the throne." Jesus of Nazareth, the Jesus of humanity, the pathetic story of whose humble life and tragic death has awakened the sympathies of millions, is a possible character and may have existed; but the Jesus of Bethlehem, the Christ of Christianity, is an impossible character and does not exist. From the beginning to the end of this Christ's earthly career he is represented by his alleged biographers as a supernatural being endowed with superhuman powers. He is conceived without a natural father: "Now the birth of Jesus Christ was on this wise: When, as his mother Mary was espoused to Joseph, before they came together, she was found with child of the Holy Ghost" (Matt. i, 18). His ministry is a succession of miracles. With a few loaves and fishes he feeds a multitude: "And when he had taken the five loaves and the two fishes, he looked up to heaven, and blessed and brake the loaves, and gave them to his disciples to set before them; and the two fishes divided he among them all. And they did all eat, and were filled. And they took up twelve baskets full of the fragments, and of the fishes. And they that did eat of the loaves were about five thousand men" (Mark vi, 41-44). He walks for miles upon the waters of the sea: "And straightway Jesus constrained his disciples to get into a ship, and to go before him unto the other side, while he sent the multitudes away. And when he had sent the multitudes away, he went up into a mountain apart to pray; and when the evening was come, he was there alone. But the ship was now in the midst of the sea, tossed with waves; for the wind was contrary. And in the fourth watch of the night Jesus went unto them, walking on the sea" (Matt. xiv, 22-25). He bids a raging tempest cease and it obeys him: "And there arose a great storm of wind, and the waves beat into the ship, so that it was now full.... And he arose, and rebuked the wind, and said unto the sea, Peace, be still. And the wind ceased, and there was a great calm" (Mark, iv, 37-39). He withers with a curse the barren fig tree: "And when he saw a fig tree in the way, he came to it, and found nothing thereon, but leaves only, and said unto it, Let no fruit grow on thee, henceforth, forever. And presently the fig tree withered away" (Matt. xxi, 19). He casts out devils: "And in the synagogue there was a man, which had a spirit of an unclean devil.... And Jesus rebuked him, saying, Hold thy peace, and come out of him. And when the devil had thrown him in the midst, he came out of him and hurt him not" (Luke iv, 33, 35). He cures the incurable: "And as he entered into a certain village, there met him ten men that were lepers, which stood afar off; and they lifted up their voices, and said, Jesus, Master, have mercy on us. And when he saw them, he said unto them, Go show yourselves unto the priests. And it came to pass, that, as they went, they were cleansed" (Luke xvii, 12-14). He restores to life a widow's only son: "And when he came nigh to the gate of the city, behold, there was a dead man carried out, the only son of his mother, and she was a widow; and much people of the city were with her. And when the Lord saw her, he had compassion on her, and said unto her, Weep not. And he came and touched the bier; and they that bore him stood still. And he said, Young man, I say unto thee, Arise. And he that was dead sat up, and began to speak. And he delivered him to his mother" (Luke vii, 12-15). He revivifies the decaying corpse of Lazarus: "Then said Jesus unto them plainly, Lazarus is dead.... Then when Jesus came, he found that he had lain in the grave four days already.... And when he had thus spoken, he cried with a loud voice, Lazarus, come forth. And he that was dead came forth" (John xi, 14-44). At his crucifixion nature is convulsed, and the inanimate dust of the grave is transformed into living beings who walk the streets of Jerusalem: "Jesus, when he had cried again with a loud voice, yielded up the ghost. And, behold, the veil of the temple was rent in twain from the top to the bottom; and the earth did quake, and the rocks rent; and the graves were opened; and many bodies of the saints, which slept, arose and came out of the graves after his resurrection, and went into the holy city, and appeared unto many" (Matt. xxvii, 50-53). He rises from the dead: "And when Joseph had taken the body, he wrapped it in a clean linen cloth, and laid it in his own new tomb, which he had hewn out in the rock; and he rolled a great stone to the door of the sepulchre, and departed.... And, behold, there was a great earthquake; for the angel of the Lord descended from heaven, and came and rolled back the stone from the door.... And as they went to tell his disciples, behold, Jesus met them, saying, All hail" (Matt. xxvii, 59, 60; xxviii, 2, 9). He ascends bodily into heaven: "And he led them out as far as to Bethany, and he lifted up his hands and blessed them. And it came to pass, while he blessed them, he was parted from them, and carried up into heaven" (Luke xxiv, 50, 51). These and a hundred other miracles make up to a great extent this so-called Gospel History of Christ. To disprove the existence of these miracles is to disprove the existence of this Christ. Canon Farrar makes this frank admission: "If miracles be incredible, Christianity is false. If Christ wrought no miracles, then the Gospels are untrustworthy" (Witness of History to Christ, p. 25). Dean Mansel thus acknowledges the consequences of the successful denial of miracles: "The whole system of Christian belief with its evidences, ... all Christianity in short, so far as it has any title to that name, so far as it has any special relation to the person or the teaching of Christ, is overthrown" (Aids to Faith, p. 3). Dr. Westcott says: "The essence of Christianity lies in a miracle; and if it can be shown that a miracle is either impossible or incredible, all further inquiry into the details of its history is superfluous" (Gospel of the Resurrection, p. 34). A miracle, in the orthodox sense of the term, is impossible and incredible. To accept a miracle is to reject a demonstrated truth. The world is governed, not by chance, not by caprice, not by special providences, but by the laws of nature; and if there be one truth which the scientist and the philosopher have established, it is this: THE LAWS OF NATURE ARE IMMUTABLE. If the laws of Nature are immutable, they cannot be suspended; for if they could be suspended, even by a god, they would not be immutable. A single suspension of these laws would prove their mutability. Now these alleged miracles of Christ required a suspension of Nature's laws; and the suspension of these laws being impossible the miracles were impossible, and not performed. If these miracles were not performed, then the existence of this supernatural and miracle-performing Christ, except as a creature of the human imagination, is incredible and impossible. Hume's masterly argument against miracles has never been refuted: "A miracle is a violation of the laws of Nature; and as a firm and unalterable experience has established these laws, the proof against a miracle, from the very nature of the fact, is as entire as any argument from experience can possibly be imagined. Why is it more than probable that all men must die; that lead cannot of itself remain suspended in the air; that fire consumes wood, and is extinguished by water; unless it be that these events are found agreeable to the laws of Nature, and there is required a violation of these laws, or, in other words, a miracle, to prevent them? Nothing is esteemed a miracle if it ever happens in the common course of Nature. It is no miracle that a man, seemingly in good health, should die suddenly; because such a kind of death, though more unusual than any other, has yet been frequently observed to happen. But it is a miracle that a dead man should come to life; because that has never been observed in any age or country. There must, therefore, be a uniform experience against any miraculous event, otherwise the event would not merit the appellation. And as a uniform experience amounts to a proof, there is here a direct and full proof, from the nature of the fact, against the existence of any miracle" (Essay on Miracles). Alluding to Christ's miracles, M. Renan, a reverential admirer of Jesus of Nazareth, says: "Observation, which has never been once falsified, teaches us that miracles never happen but in times and countries in which they are believed, and before persons disposed to believe them. No miracle ever occurred in the presence of men capable of testing its miraculous character..... It is not, then, in the name of this or that philosophy, but in the name of universal experience, that we banish miracles from history" (Life of Jesus, p. 29). Christianity arose in what was preeminently a miracle-working age. Everything was attested by miracles, because nearly everybody believed in miracles and demanded them. Every religious teacher was a worker of miracles; and however trifling the miracle might be when wrought, in this atmosphere of unbounded credulity, the breath of exaggeration soon expanded it into marvelous proportions. To show more clearly the character of the age which Christ illustrates, let us take another example, the Pythagorean teacher, Apollonius of Tyana, a contemporary of the Galilean. According to his biographers--and they are as worthy of credence as the Evangelists--his career, particularly in the miraculous events attending it, bore a remarkable resemblance to that of Christ. Like Christ, he was a divine incarnation; like Christ his miraculous conception was announced before his birth; like Christ he possessed in childhood the wisdom of a sage; like Christ he is said to have led a blameless life; like Christ his moral teachings were declared to be the best the world had known; like Christ he remained a celibate; like Christ he was averse to riches; like Christ he purified the religious temples; like Christ he predicted future events; like Christ he performed miracles, cast out devils, healed the sick, and restored the dead to life; like Christ he died, rose from the grave, ascended to heaven, and was worshiped as a god. The Christian rejects the miraculous in Apollonius because it is incredible; the Rationalist rejects the miraculous in Christ for the same reason. In proof of the human character of the religion of Apollonius and the divine character of that of Christ it may be urged that the former has perished, while the latter has survived. But this, if it proves anything, proves too much. If the survival of Christianity proves its divinity, then the survival of the miracle-attested faiths of Buddhism and Mohammedanism, its powerful and nourishing rivals, must prove their divinity also. The religion of Apollonius languished and died because the conditions for its development were unfavorable; while the religions of Buddha, Christ, and Mohammed lived and thrived because of the propitious circumstances which favored their development. With the advancement of knowledge the belief in the supernatural is disappearing. Those freed from Ignorance, and her dark sister, Superstition, know that miracles are myths. In the words of Matthew Arnold, "Miracles are doomed; they will drop out like fairies and witchcraft, from among the matter which serious people believe" (Literature and Dogma). What proved the strength of Christianity in an age of ignorance is proving its weakness in an age of intelligence. Christian scholars themselves, recognizing the indefensibility and absurdity of miracles, endeavor to explain away the difficulties attending their acceptance by affirming that they are not real, but only apparent, violations of Nature's laws; thus putting the miracles of Christ in the same class with those performed by the jugglers of India and Japan. They resolve the supernatural into the natural, that the incredible may appear credible. With invincible logic and pitiless sarcasm Colonel Ingersoll exposes the lameness of this attempt to retain the shadow of the supernatural when the substance is gone: "Believers in miracles should not try to explain them. There is but one way to explain anything, and that is to account for it by natural agencies. The moment you explain a miracle it disappears. You should not depend upon explanation, but assertion. You should not be driven from the field because the miracle is shown to be unreasonable. Neither should you be in the least disheartened if it is shown to be impossible. The possible is not miraculous." Miracles must be dismissed from the domain of fact and relegated to the realm of fiction. A miracle, I repeat, is impossible. Above all this chief of miracles, The Christ, is impossible, and does not, and never did, exist. CHAPTER II. SILENCE OF CONTEMPORARY WRITERS. Another proof that the Christ of Christianity is a fabulous and not a historical character is the silence of the writers who lived during and immediately following the time he is said to have existed. That a man named Jesus, an obscure religious teacher, the basis of this fabulous Christ, lived in Palestine about nineteen hundred years ago, may be true. But of this man we know nothing. His biography has not been written. E. Renan and others have attempted to write it, but have failed--have failed because no materials for such a work exist. Contemporary writers have left us not one word concerning him. For generations afterward, outside of a few theological epistles, we find no mention of him. The following is a list of writers who lived and wrote during the time, or within a century after the time, that Christ is said to have lived and performed his wonderful works: Josephus, Statius, Philo-Judaeus, Ptolemy, Seneca, Hermogones, Pliny the Elder, Valerius Maximus, Arrian, Appian, Petronius, Theon of Smyrna, Dion Pruseus, Phlegon, Paterculus, Pompon Mela, Suetonius, Quintius Curtius Juvenal, Lucian, Martial, Pausanias, Persius, Valerius Flaccus, Plutarch, Florus Lucius, Justus of Tiberius, Favorinus, Apollonius, Phaedrus, Pliny the Younger, Damis, Tacitus, Aulus Gellius, Quintilian, Columella, Lucanus, Dio Chrysostom, Epictetus, Lysias, Silius Italicus, Appion of Alexandria. Enough of the writings of the authors named in the foregoing list remains to form a library. Yet in this mass of Jewish and Pagan literature, aside from two forged passages in the works of a Jewish author, and two disputed passages in the works of Roman writers, there is to be found no mention of Jesus Christ. Philo was born before the beginning of the Christian era, and lived until long after the reputed death of Christ. He wrote an account of the Jews covering the entire time that Christ is said to have existed on earth. He was living in or near Jerusalem when Christ's miraculous birth and the Herodian massacre occurred. He was there when Christ made his triumphal entry into Jerusalem. He was there when the crucifixion with its attendant earthquake, supernatural darkness, and resurrection of the dead took place--when Christ himself rose from the dead, and in the presence of many witnesses ascended into heaven. These marvelous events which must have filled the world with amazement, had they really occurred, were unknown to him. It was Philo who developed the doctrine of the Logos, or Word, and although this Word incarnate dwelt in that very land and in the presence of multitudes revealed himself and demonstrated his divine powers, Philo saw it not. Josephus, the renowned Jewish historian, was a native of Judea. He was born in 37 A. D., and was a contemporary of the Apostles. He was, for a time, Governor of Galilee, the province in which Christ lived and taught. He traversed every part of this province and visited the places where but a generation before Christ had performed his prodigies. He resided in Cana, the very city in which Christ is said to have wrought his first miracle. He mentions every noted personage of Palestine and describes every important event which occurred there during the first seventy years of the Christian era. But Christ was of too little consequence and his deeds too trivial to merit a line from this historian's pen. Justus of Tiberius was a native of Christ's own country, Galilee. He wrote a history covering the time of Christ's reputed existence. This work has perished, but Photius, a Christian scholar and critic of the ninth century, who was acquainted with it, says: "He [Justus] makes not the least mention of the appearance of Christ, of what things happened to him, or of the wonderful works that he did" (Photius' Bibliotheca, code 33). Judea, where occurred the miraculous beginning and marvelous ending of Christ's earthly career, was a Roman province, and all of Palestine is intimately associated with Roman history. But the Roman records of that age contain no mention of Christ and his works. The Greek writers of Greece and Alexandria who lived not far from Palestine and who were familiar with its events, are silent also. Josephus. Late in the first century Josephus wrote his celebrated work, "The Antiquities of the Jews," giving a history of his race from the earliest ages down to his own time. Modern versions of this work contain the following passage: "Now, there was about this time Jesus, a wise man, if it be lawful to call him a man, for he was a doer of wonderful works; a teacher of such men as receive the truth with pleasure. He drew over to him both many of the Jews, and many of the Gentiles. He was [the] Christ; and when Pilate, at the suggestion of the principal men amongst us, had condemned him to the cross, those that loved him at the first did not forsake him; for he appeared to them alive again the third day, as the divine prophets had foretold these and ten thousand other wonderful things concerning him; and the tribe of Christians, so named from him, are not extinct at this day" (Book XVIII, Chap. iii, sec. 3). For nearly sixteen hundred years Christians have been citing this passage as a testimonial, not merely to the historical existence, but to the divine character of Jesus Christ. And yet a ranker forgery was never penned. Its language is Christian. Every line proclaims it the work of a Christian writer. "If it be lawful to call him a man." "He was the Christ." "He appeared to them alive again the third day, as the divine prophets had foretold these and ten thousand other wonderful things concerning him." These are the words of a Christian, a believer in the divinity of Christ. Josephus was a Jew, a devout believer in the Jewish faith--the last man in the world to acknowledge the divinity of Christ. The inconsistency of this evidence was early recognized, and Ambrose, writing in the generation succeeding its first appearance (360 A. D.) offers the following explanation, which only a theologian could frame: "If the Jews do not believe us, let them, at least, believe their own writers. Josephus, whom they esteem a very great man, hath said this, and yet hath he spoken truth after such a manner; and so far was his mind wandered from the right way, that even he was not a believer as to what he himself said; but thus he spake, in order to deliver historical truth, because he thought it not lawful for him to deceive, while yet he was no believer, because of the hardness of his heart, and his perfidious intention." Its brevity disproves its authenticity. Josephus' work is voluminous and exhaustive. It comprises twenty books. Whole pages are devoted to petty robbers and obscure seditious leaders. Nearly forty chapters are devoted to the life of a single king. Yet this remarkable being, the greatest product of his race, a being of whom the prophets foretold ten thousand wonderful things, a being greater than any earthly king, is dismissed with a dozen lines. It interrupts the narrative. Section 2 of the chapter containing it gives an account of a Jewish sedition which was suppressed by Pilate with great slaughter. The account ends as follows: "There were a great number of them slain by this means, and others of them ran away wounded; and thus an end was put to this sedition." Section 4, as now numbered, begins with these words: "About the same time also another sad calamity put the Jews into disorder." The one section naturally and logically follows the other. Yet between these two closely connected paragraphs the one relating to Christ is placed; thus making the words, "another sad calamity," refer to the advent of this wise and wonderful being. The early Christian fathers were not acquainted with it. Justin Martyr, Tertullian, Clement of Alexandria, and Origen all would have quoted this passage had it existed in their time. The failure of even one of these fathers to notice it would be sufficient to throw doubt upon its genuineness; the failure of all of them to notice it proves conclusively that it is spurious, that it was not in existence during the second and third centuries. As this passage first appeared in the writings of the ecclesiastical historian, Eusebius, as this author openly advocated the use of fraud and deception in furthering the interests of the church, as he is known to have mutilated and perverted the text of Josephus in other instances, and as the manner of its presentation is calculated to excite suspicion, the forgery has generally been charged to him. In his "Evangelical Demonstration," written early in the fourth century, after citing all the known evidences of Christianity, he thus introduces the Jewish historian: "Certainly the attestations I have already produced concerning our Savior may be sufficient. However, it may not be amiss, if, over and above, we make use of Josephus the Jew for a further witness" (Book III, p. 124). Chrysostom and Photius both reject this passage. Chrysostom, a reader of Josephus, who preached and wrote in the latter part of the fourth century, in his defense of Christianity, needed this evidence, but was too honest or too wise to use it. Photius, who made a revision of Josephus, writing five hundred years after the time of Eusebius, ignores the passage, and admits that Josephus has made no mention of Christ. Modern Christian scholars generally concede that the passage is a forgery. Dr. Lardner, one of the ablest defenders of Christianity, adduces the following arguments against its genuineness: "I do not perceive that we at all want the suspected testimony to Jesus, which was never quoted by any of our Christian ancestors before Eusebius. "Nor do I recollect that Josephus has anywhere mentioned the name or word Christ, in any of his works; except the testimony above mentioned, and the passage concerning James, the Lord's brother. "It interrupts the narrative. "The language is quite Christian. "It is not quoted by Chrysostom, though he often refers to Josephus, and could not have omitted quoting it had it been then in the text. "It is not quoted by Photius, though he has three articles concerning Josephus. "Under the article Justus of Tiberias, this author (Photius) expressly states that the historian [Josephus], being a Jew, has not taken the least notice of Christ. "Neither Justin in his dialogue with Trypho the Jew, nor Clemens Alexandrinus, who made so many extracts from ancient authors, nor Origen against Celsus, has ever mentioned this testimony. "But, on the contrary, in chapter xxxv of the first book of that work, Origen openly affirms that Josephus, who had mentioned John the Baptist, did not acknowledge Christ" (Answer to Dr. Chandler). Again Dr. Lardner says: "This passage is not quoted nor referred to by any Christian writer before Eusebius, who flourished at the beginning of the fourth century. If it had been originally in the works of Josephus it would have been highly proper to produce it in their disputes with Jews and Gentiles. But it is never quoted by Justin Martyr, or Clement of Alexandria, nor by Tertullian or Origen, men of great learning, and well acquainted with the works of Josephus. It was certainly very proper to urge it against the Jews. It might also have been fitly urged against the Gentiles. A testimony so favorable to Jesus in the works of Josephus, who lived so soon after our Savior, who was so well acquainted with the transactions of his own country, who had received so many favors from Vespasian and Titus, would not be overlooked or neglected by any Christian apologist" (Lardner's Works, vol. I, chap. iv). Bishop Warburton declares it to be a forgery: "If a Jew owned the truth of Christianity, he must needs embrace it. We, therefore, certainly conclude that the paragraph where Josephus, who was as much a Jew as the religion of Moses could make him, is made to acknowledge Jesus as the Christ, in terms as strong as words could do it, is a rank forgery, and a very stupid one, too" (Quoted by Lardner, Works, Vol. I, chap. iv). The Rev. Dr. Giles, of the Established Church of England, says: "Those who are best acquainted with the character of Josephus, and the style of his writings, have no hesitation in condemning this passage as a forgery, interpolated in the text during the third century by some pious Christian, who was scandalized that so famous a writer as Josephus should have taken no notice of the gospels, or of Christ, their subject. But the zeal of the interpolator has outrun his discretion, for we might as well expect to gather grapes from thorns, or figs from thistles, as to find this notice of Christ among the Judaizing writings of Josephus. It is well known that this author was a zealous Jew, devoted to the laws of Moses and the traditions of his countrymen. How, then, could he have written that Jesus was the Christ? Such an admission would have proved him to be a Christian himself, in which case the passage under consideration, too long for a Jew, would have been far too short for a believer in the new religion, and thus the passage stands forth, like an ill-set jewel, contrasting most inharmoniously with everything around it. If it had been genuine, we might be sure that Justin Martyr, Tertullian, and Chrysostom would have quoted it in their controversies with the Jews, and that Origen or Photius would have mentioned it. But Eusebius, the ecclesiastical historian (I, 11), is the first who quotes it, and our reliance on the judgment or even honesty of this writer is not so great as to allow our considering everything found in his works as undoubtedly genuine" (Christian Records, p. 30). The Rev. S. Baring-Gould, in his "Lost and Hostile Gospels," says: "This passage is first quoted by Eusebius (fl. A. D. 315) in two places (Hist. Eccl., lib. i, c. xi; Demonst. Evang., lib. iii); but it was unknown to Justin Martyr (fl. A. D. 140), Clement of Alexandria (fl. A. D. 192), Tertullian (fl. A. D. 193), and Origen (fl. A. D. 230). Such a testimony would certainly have been produced by Justin in his apology or in his controversy with Trypho the Jew, had it existed in the copies of Josephus at his time. The silence of Origen is still more significant. Celsus, in his book against Christianity, introduces a Jew. Origen attacks the argument of Celsus and his Jew. He could not have failed to quote the words of Josephus, whose writings he knew, had the passage existed in the genuine text. He, indeed, distinctly affirms that Josephus did not believe in Christ (Contr. Cels. i)." Dr. Chalmers ignores it, and admits that Josephus is silent regarding Christ. He says: "The entire silence of Josephus upon the subject of Christianity, though he wrote after the destruction of Jerusalem, and gives us the history of that period in which Christ and his Apostles lived, is certainly a very striking circumstance" (Kneeland's Review, p. 169). Referring to this passage, Dean Milman, in his "Gibbon's Rome" (Vol. II, p. 285, note) says: "It is interpolated with many additional clauses." Canon Farrar, who has written the ablest Christian life of Christ yet penned, repudiates it. He says: "The single passage in which he [Josephus] alludes to him is interpolated, if not wholly spurious" (Life of Christ, Vol. I, p. 46). The following, from Dr. Farrar's pen, is to be found in the "Encyclopedia Britannica": "That Josephus wrote the whole passage as it now stands no sane critic can believe." "There are, however, two reasons which are alone sufficient to prove that the whole passage is spurious--one that it was unknown to Origen and the earlier fathers, and the other that its place in the text is uncertain" (Ibid). Theodor Keim, a German-Christian writer on Jesus, says: "The passage cannot be maintained; it has first appeared in this form in the Catholic church of the Jews and Gentiles, and under the dominion of the Fourth Gospel, and hardly before the third century, probably before Eusebius, and after Origen, whose bitter criticisms of Josephus may have given cause for it" (Jesus of Nazara, p. 25). Concerning this passage, Hausrath, another German writer, says it "must have been penned at a peculiarly shameless hour." The Rev. Dr. Hooykaas, of Holland, says: "Flavius Josephus, the well known historian of the Jewish people, was born in A. D. 37, only two years after the death of Jesus; but though his work is of inestimable value as our chief authority for the circumstances of the times in which Jesus and his Apostles came forward, yet he does not seem to have mentioned Jesus himself. At any rate, the passage in his 'Jewish Antiquities' that refers to him is certainly spurious, and was inserted by a later and a Christian hand" (Bible for Learners, Vol. III, p. 27). This conclusion of Dr. Hooykaas is endorsed by the eminent Dutch critic, Dr. Kuenen. Dr. Alexander Campbell, one of America's ablest Christian apologists, says: "Josephus, the Jewish historian, was contemporary with the Apostles, having been born in the year 37. From his situation and habits, he had every access to know all that took place at the rise of the Christian religion. "Respecting the founder of this religion, Josephus has thought fit to be silent in history. The present copies of his work contain one passage which speaks very respectfully of Jesus Christ, and ascribes to him the character of the Messiah. But as Josephus did not embrace Christianity, and as this passage is not quoted or referred to until the beginning of the fourth century, it is, for these and other reasons, generally accounted spurious" (Evidences of Christianity, from Campbell-Owen Debate, p. 312). Another passage in Josephus, relating to the younger Ananus, who was high priest of the Jews in 62 A. D., reads as follows: "But this younger Ananus, who, as we have told you already, took the high priesthood, was a bold man in his temper and very insolent; he was also of the sect of Sadducees, who are very rigid in judging offenders, above all of the rest of the Jews, as we have already observed; when, therefore, Ananus was of this disposition, he thought he had now a proper opportunity. Festus was dead, and Albinus was but upon the road; so he assembled the Sanhedrim of judges and brought before them the brother of Jesus, who was called Christ, whose name was James, and some others; and when he had formed an accusation against them as breakers of the law, he delivered them to be stoned" (Antiquities, Book XX, chap. ix, sec. 1). This passage is probably genuine with the exception of the clause, "who was called Christ," which is undoubtedly an interpolation, and is generally regarded as such. Nearly all the authorities that I have quoted reject it. It was originally probably a marginal note. Some Christian reader of Josephus believing that the James mentioned was the brother of Jesus made a note of his belief in the manuscript before him, and this a transcriber afterward incorporated with the text, a very common practice in that age when purity of text was a matter of secondary importance. The fact that the early fathers, who were acquainted with Josephus, and who would have hailed with joy even this evidence of Christ's existence, do not cite it, while Origen expressly declares that Josephus has not mentioned Christ, is conclusive proof that it did not exist until the middle of the third century or later. Those who affirm the genuineness of this clause argue that the James mentioned by Josephus was a person of less prominence than the Jesus mentioned by him, which would be true of James, the brother of Jesus Christ. Now some of the most prominent Jews living at this time were named Jesus. Jesus, the son of Damneus, succeeded Ananus as high priest that very year; and Jesus, the son of Gamaliel, a little later succeeded to the same office. To identify the James of Josephus with James the Just, the brother of Jesus, is to reject the accepted history of the primitive church which declares that James the Just died in 69 A. D., seven years after the James of Josephus was condemned to death by the Sanhedrim. Whiston himself, the translator of Josephus, referring to the event narrated by the Jewish historian, admits that James, the brother of Jesus Christ, "did not die till long afterward." The brief "Discourse Concerning Hades," appended to the writings of Josephus, is universally conceded to be the product of some other writer--"obviously of Christian origin"--says the "Encyclopedia Britannica." Tacitus. In July, 64 A. D., a great conflagration occurred in Rome. There is a tradition to the effect that this conflagration was the work of an incendiary and that the Emperor Nero himself was believed to be the incendiary. Modern editions of the "Annals" of Tacitus contain the following passage in reference to this: "Nero, in order to stifle the rumor, ascribed it to those people who were abhorred for their crimes and commonly called Christians: These he punished exquisitely. The founder of that name was Christus, who, in the reign of Tiberius, was punished as a criminal by the procurator, Pontius Pilate. This pernicious superstition, thus checked for awhile, broke out again; and spread not only over Judea, the source of this evil, but reached the city also: whither flow from all quarters all things vile and shameful, and where they find shelter and encouragement. At first, only those were apprehended who confessed themselves of that sect; afterwards, a vast multitude were detected by them, all of whom were condemned, not so much for the crime of burning the city, as their hatred of mankind. Their executions were so contrived as to expose them to derision and contempt. Some were covered over with the skins of wild beasts, and torn to pieces by dogs; some were crucified. Others, having been daubed over with combustible materials, were set up as lights in the night time, and thus burned to death. Nero made use of his own gardens as a theatre on this occasion, and also exhibited the diversions of the circus, sometimes standing in the crowd as a spectator, in the habit of a charioteer; at other times driving a chariot himself, till at length those men, though really criminal, and deserving exemplary punishment, began to be commiserated as people who were destroyed, not out of regard to the public welfare, but only to gratify the cruelty of one man" (Annals, Book XV, sec. 44). This passage, accepted as authentic by many, must be declared doubtful, if not spurious, for the following reasons: 1. It is not quoted by the Christian fathers. 2. Tertullian was familiar with the writings of Tacitus, and his arguments demanded the citation of this evidence had it existed. 3. Clement of Alexandria, at the beginning of the third century, made a compilation of all the recognitions of Christ and Christianity that had been made by Pagan writers up to his time. The writings of Tacitus furnished no recognition of them. 4. Origen, in his controversy with Celsus, would undoubtedly have used it had it existed. 5. The ecclesiastical historian Eusebius, in the fourth century, cites all the evidences of Christianity obtainable from Jewish and Pagan sources, but makes no mention of Tacitus. 6. It is not quoted by any Christian writer prior to the fifteenth century. 7. At this time but one copy of the "Annals" existed, and this copy, it is claimed, was made in the eighth century--600 years after the time of Tacitus. 8. As this single copy was in the possession of a Christian the insertion of a forgery was easy. 9. Its severe criticisms of Christianity do not necessarily disprove its Christian origin. No ancient witness was more desirable than Tacitus, but his introduction at so late a period would make rejection certain unless Christian forgery could be made to appear improbable. 10. It is admitted by Christian writers that the works of Tacitus have not been preserved with any considerable degree of fidelity. In the writings ascribed to him are believed to be some of the writings of Quintilian. 11. The blood-curdling story about the frightful orgies of Nero reads like some Christian romance of the dark ages, and not like Tacitus. 12. In fact, this story, in nearly the same words, omitting the reference to Christ, is to be found in the writings of Sulpicius Severus, a Christian of the fifth century. 13. Suetonius, while mercilessly condemning the reign of Nero, says that in his public entertainments he took particular care that no human lives should be sacrificed, "not even those of condemned criminals." 14. At the time that the conflagration occurred, Tacitus himself declares that Nero was not in Rome, but at Antium. Many who accept the authenticity of this section of the "Annals" believe that the sentence which declares that Christ was punished in the reign of Pontius Pilate, and which I have italicized, is an interpolation. Whatever may be said of the remainder of this passage, this sentence bears the unmistakable stamp of Christian forgery. It interrupts the narrative; it disconnects two closely related statements. Eliminate this sentence, and there is no break in the narrative. In all the Roman records there was to be found no evidence that Christ was put to death by Pontius Pilate. This sentence, if genuine, is the most important evidence in Pagan literature. That it existed in the works of the greatest and best known of Roman historians, and was ignored or overlooked by Christian apologists for 1,360 years, no intelligent critic can believe. Tacitus did not write this sentence. Pliny the Younger. This Roman author, early in the second century, while serving as a pro-consul under Trajan in Bithynia, is reputed to have written a letter to his Emperor concerning his treatment of Christians. This letter contains the following: "I have laid down this rule in dealing with those who were brought before me for being Christians. I asked whether they were Christians; if they confessed, I asked them a second and a third time, threatening them with punishment; if they persevered, I ordered them to be executed.... They assured me that their only crime or error was this, that they were wont to come together on a certain day before it was light, and to sing in turn, among themselves, a hymn to Christ, as to a god, and to bind themselves by an oath--not to do anything that was wicked, that they would commit no theft, robbery, or adultery, nor break their word, nor deny that anything had been entrusted to them when called upon to restore it.... I therefore deemed it the more necessary to enquire of two servant maids, who were said to be attendants, what was the real truth, and to apply the torture. But I found it was nothing but a bad and excessive superstition." Notwithstanding an alleged reply to this letter from Trajan, cited by Tertullian and Eusebius, its genuineness may well be questioned, and for the following reasons: 1. The Roman laws accorded religious liberty to all, and the Roman government tolerated and protected every religious belief. Renan says: "Among the Roman laws, anterior to Constantine, there was not a single ordinance directed against freedom of thought; in the history of the Pagan emperors not a single persecution on account of mere doctrines or creeds" (The Apostles). Gibbon says: "The religious tenets of the Galileans, or Christians, were never made a subject of punishment, or even of inquiry" (Rome, Vol. II, p. 215). 2. Trajan was one of the most tolerant and benevolent of Roman emperors. 3. Pliny, the reputed author of the letter, is universally conceded to have been one of the most humane and philanthropic of men. 4. It represents the distant province of Bithynia as containing, at this time, a large Christian population, which is improbable. 5. It assumes that the Emperor Trajan was little acquainted with Christian beliefs and customs, which cannot be harmonized with the supposed historical fact that the most powerful of primitive churches flourished in Trajan's capital and had existed for fifty years. 6. Pliny represents the Christians as declaring that they were in the habit of meeting and singing hymns "to Christ as to a god." The early Christians did not recognize Christ as a god, and it was not until after the time of Pliny that he was worshiped as such. 7. "I asked whether they were Christians; if they confessed, I asked them a second and a third time, threatening them with punishment; if they persevered I ordered them to be executed." That this wise and good man rewarded lying with liberty and truthfulness with death is difficult to believe. 8. "I therefore deemed it more necessary to inquire of two servant maids, who were said to be attendants, what was the real truth, and to apply the torture." Never have the person and character of woman been held more sacred than they were in Pagan Rome. That one of the noblest of Romans should have put to torture young women guiltless of crime is incredible. 9. The declaration of the Christians that they took a solemn obligation "not to do anything that was wicked; that they would commit no theft, robbery, or adultery, nor break their word," etc., looks like an ingenious attempt to parade the virtues of primitive Christians. 10. This letter, it is claimed, is to be found in but one ancient copy of Pliny. 11. It was first quoted by Tertullian, and the age immediately preceding Tertullian was notorious for Christian forgeries. 12. Some of the best German critics reject it. Gibbon, while not denying its authenticity, pronounces it a "very curious epistle"; and Dr. Whiston, who considers it too valuable to discard, applies to its contents such epithets as "amazing doctrine!" "amazing stupidity!" Josephus, Tacitus, Pliny--these are the disinterested witnesses adduced by the church to prove the historical existence of Jesus Christ; the one writing nearly one hundred years, the others one hundred and ten years after his alleged birth; the testimony of two of them self-evident forgeries, and that of the third a probable forgery. But even if the doubtful and hostile letter of Pliny be genuine, it was not written until the second century, so that there is not to be found in all the records of profane history prior to the second century a single allusion to the reputed founder of Christianity. To these witnesses is sometimes, though rarely, added a fourth, Suetonius, a Roman historian who, like Tacitus and Pliny, wrote in the second century. In his "Life of Nero," Suetonius says: "The Christians, a race of men of a new and villainous superstition, were punished." In his "Life of Claudius," he says: "He [Claudius] drove the Jews, who at the instigation of Chrestus were constantly rioting, out of Rome." Of course no candid Christian will contend that Christ was inciting Jewish riots at Rome fifteen years after he was crucified at Jerusalem. Significant is the silence of the forty Jewish and Pagan writers named in this chapter. This silence alone disproves Christ's existence. Had this wonderful being really existed the earth would have resounded with his fame. His mighty deeds would have engrossed every historian's pen. The pages of other writers would have abounded with references to him. Think of going through the literature of the nineteenth century and searching in vain for the name of Napoleon Bonaparte! Yet Napoleon was a pigmy and his deeds trifles compared with this Christ and the deeds he is said to have performed. With withering irony Gibbon notes this ominous silence: "But how shall we excuse the supine inattention of the Pagan and philosophic world, to those evidences which were represented by the hand of Omnipotence, not to their reason, but to their senses? During the age of Christ, of his apostles, and of their first disciples, the doctrine which they preached was confirmed by innumerable prodigies. The lame walked, the blind saw, the sick were healed, the dead were raised, demons were expelled, and the laws of Nature were frequently suspended for the benefit of the church. But the sages of Greece and Rome turned aside from the awful spectacle, and, pursuing the ordinary occupations of life and study, appeared unconscious of any alterations in the moral or physical government of the world. Under the reign of Tiberius, the whole earth, or at least a celebrated province of the Roman empire, was involved in a preternatural darkness of three hours. Even this miraculous event, which ought to have excited the wonder, the curiosity, and the devotion of mankind, passed without notice in an age of science and history. It happened during the lifetime of Seneca and the elder Pliny, who must have experienced the immediate effects, or received the earliest intelligence of the prodigy. Each of these philosophers, in a laborious work, has recorded all the great phenomena of Nature, earthquakes, meteors, comets, and eclipses, which his indefatigable curiosity could collect. Both the one and the other have omitted to mention the greatest phenomenon to which the mortal eye has been witness since the creation of the globe" (Rome, Vol. I, pp. 588-590). Even conceding, for the sake of argument, both the authenticity and the credibility of these passages attributed to the Roman historians, what do they prove? Do they prove that Christ was divine--that he was a supernatural being, as claimed? No more than do the writings of Paine and Voltaire, which also contain his name. This evidence is favorable not to the adherents, but to the opponents, of Christianity. If these passages be genuine, and their authors have penned historical truths, it simply confirms what most Rationalists admit, that a religious sect called Christians, who recognized Christ as their founder, existed as early as the first century; and confirms what some have charged, but what the church is loath to admit, that primitive Christians, who have been declared the highest exemplars of human virtue, were the most depraved of villains. An unlettered and credulous enthusiast, named Jones, imagines that he has had a revelation, and proceeds to found a new religious sect. He gathers about him a band of "disciples" as ignorant and credulous as himself. He soon gets into trouble and is killed. But the Jonesists increase--increase in numbers and in meanness--until at length they become sufficiently notorious to receive a paragraph from an annalist who, after holding them up to ridicule and scorn, accounts for their origin by stating that they take their name from one Jones who, during the administration of President Roosevelt, was hanged as a criminal. The world contains two billions of inhabitants--mostly fools, as Carlyle would say--and as the religion of this sect is a little more foolish than that of any other sect, it continues to spread until at the end of two thousand years it covers the globe. Then think of the adherents of this religion citing the uncomplimentary allusion of this annalist to prove that Jones was a god! CHAPTER III. CHRISTIAN EVIDENCE. The Four Gospels. Farrar, in his "Life of Christ," concedes and deplores the dearth of evidence concerning the subject of his work. He says: "It is little short of amazing that neither history nor tradition should have embalmed for us one certain or precious saying or circumstance in the life of the Savior of Mankind, except the comparatively few events recorded in four very brief biographies." With these four brief biographies, the Four Gospels, Christianity must stand or fall. These four documents, it is admitted, contain practically all the evidence which can be adduced in proof of the existence and divinity of Jesus Christ. Profane history, as we have seen, affords no proof of this. The so-called apocryphal literature of the early church has been discarded by the church itself. Even the remaining canonical books of the New Testament are of little consequence if the testimony of the Four Evangelists be successfully impeached. Disprove the authenticity and credibility of these documents and this Christian deity is removed to the mythical realm of Apollo, Odin, and Osiris. In a previous work, "The Bible," I have shown that the books of the New Testament, with a few exceptions, are not authentic. This evidence cannot be reproduced here in full. A brief summary of it must suffice. The Four Gospels, it is claimed, were written by Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John, two of them apostles, and two companions of the apostles of Christ. If this claim be true the other writings of the apostles, the writings of the Apostolic Fathers, and the writings of the early Christian Fathers, ought to contain some evidences of the fact. Twenty books--nearly all of the remaining books of the New Testament--are said to have been written by the three apostles, Peter, John, and Paul, a portion of them after the first three Gospels were written; but it is admitted that they contain no evidence whatever of the existence of these Gospels. There are extant writings accredited to the Apostolic Fathers, Clement of Rome, Barnabas, Hermas, Ignatius, and Polycarp; written, for the most part, early in the second century. These writings contain no mention of the Four Gospels. This also is admitted by Christian scholars. Dr. Dodwell says: "We have at this day certain most authentic ecclesiastical writers of the times, as Clemens Romanus, Barnabas, Hermas, Ignatius, and Polycarp, who wrote in the order wherein I have named them, and after all the writers of the New Testament. But in Hermas you will not find one passage or any mention of the New Testament, nor in all the rest is any one of the Evangelists named" (Dissertations upon Irenaeus). The Four Gospels were unknown to the early Christian Fathers. Justin Martyr, the most eminent of the early Fathers, wrote about the middle of the second century. His writings in proof of the divinity of Christ demanded the use of these Gospels had they existed in his time. He makes more than three hundred quotations from the books of the Old Testament, and nearly one hundred from the Apocryphal books of the New Testament; but none from the Four Gospels. The Rev. Dr. Giles says: "The very names of the Evangelists, Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John, are never mentioned by him [Justin]--do not occur once in all his writings" (Christian Records, p. 71). Papias, another noted Father, was a contemporary of Justin. He refers to writings of Matthew and Mark, but his allusions to them clearly indicate that they were not the Gospels of Matthew and Mark. Dr. Davidson, the highest English authority on the canon, says: "He [Papias] neither felt the want nor knew the existence of inspired Gospels" (Canon of the Bible, p. 123). Theophilus, who wrote after the middle of the latter half of the second century, mentions the Gospel of John, and Irenaeus, who wrote a little later, mentions all of the Gospels, and makes numerous quotations from them. In the latter half of the second century, then, between the time of Justin and Papias, and the time of Theophilus and Irenaeus, the Four Gospels were undoubtedly written or compiled. These books are anonymous. They do not purport to have been written by Matthew, Mark, Luke and John. Their titles do not affirm it. They simply imply that they are "according" to the supposed teachings of these Evangelists. As Renan says, "They merely signify that these were the traditions proceeding from each of these Apostles, and claiming their authority." Concerning their authorship the Rev. Dr. Hooykaas says: "They appeared anonymously. The titles placed above them in our Bibles owe their origin to a later ecclesiastical tradition which deserves no confidence whatever" (Bible for Learners, Vol. III, p. 24). It is claimed that the Gospel of Matthew originally appeared in Hebrew. Our version is a translation of a Greek work. Regarding this St. Jerome says: "Who afterwards translated it into Greek is not sufficiently certain." The consequences of this admission are thus expressed by Michaelis: "If the original text of Matthew is lost, and we have nothing but a Greek translation; then, frankly, we cannot ascribe any divine inspiration to the words." The contents of these books refute the claim that they were written by the Evangelists named. They narrate events and contain doctrinal teachings which belong to a later age. Matthew ascribes to Christ the following language: "Thou art Peter, and upon this rock I will build my church" (xvi, 18). This Gospel is a Roman Catholic Gospel, and was written after the beginning of the establishment of this hierarchy to uphold the supremacy of the Petrine Church of Rome. Of this Gospel Dr. Davidson says: "The author, indeed, must ever remain unknown" (Introduction to New Testament, p. 72). The Gospel of Luke is addressed to Theophilus. Theophilus, Bishop of Antioch, who is believed to be the person addressed, flourished in the latter half of the second century. Dr. Schleiermacher, one of Germany's greatest theologians, after a critical analysis of Luke, concludes that it is merely a compilation, made up of thirty-three preexisting manuscripts. Bishop Thirlwall's Schleiermacher says: "He [Luke] is from beginning to end no more than the compiler and arranger of documents which he found in existence" (p. 313). The basis of this Gospel is generally believed to be the Gospel of Marcion, a Pauline compilation, made about the middle of the second century. Concerning this Gospel, the Rev. S. Baring-Gould, in his "Lost and Hostile Gospels," says: "The arrangement is so similar that we are forced to the conclusion that it was either used by St. Luke or that it was his original composition. If he used it then his right to the title of author of the Third Gospel falls to the ground, as what he added was of small amount." Mark, according to Renan, is the oldest of the Gospels; but Mark, according to Strauss, was written after the Gospels of Matthew and Luke were written. He says: "It is evidently a compilation, whether made from memory or otherwise, from the first and third Gospels" (Leben Jesu, p. 51). Judge Waite, in his "History of Christianity," says that all but twenty-four verses of this Gospel have their parallels in Matthew and Luke. Davidson declares it to be an anonymous work. "The author," he says, "is unknown." Omitting the last twelve verses of Mark, which all Christian critics pronounce spurious, the book contains no mention of the two great miracles which mark the limits of Christ's earthly career, his miraculous birth and his ascension. Concerning the first three Gospels, the "Encyclopedia Britannica" says: "It is certain that the Synoptic Gospels took their present form only by degrees." Of these books Dr. Westcott says: "Their substance is evidently much older than their form." Professor Robertson Smith pronounces them "unapostolic digests of the second century." The internal evidence against the authenticity of the Fourth Gospel is conclusive. The Apostle John did not write it. John, the apostle, was a Jew; the author of the Fourth Gospel was not a Jew. John was born at Bethsaida; the author of the Fourth Gospel did not know where Bethsaida was located. John was an uneducated fisherman; the author of this Gospel was an accomplished scholar. Some of the most important events in the life of Jesus, the Synoptics declare, were witnessed by John; the author of this knows nothing of these events. The Apostle John witnessed the crucifixion; the author of this Gospel did not. The Apostles, including John, believed Jesus to be a man; the author of the Fourth Gospel believed him to be a god. Regarding the authorship of the Fourth Gospel, Dr. Davidson says: "The Johannine authorship has receded before the tide of modern criticism, and though this tide is arbitrary at times, it is here irresistible" (Canon of the Bible, p. 127). That the authenticity of the Four Gospels cannot be maintained is conceded by every impartial critic. The author of "Supernatural Religion," in one of the most profound and exhaustive works on this subject ever written, expresses the result of his labors in the following words: "After having exhausted the literature and the testimony bearing on the point, we have not found a single distinct trace of any of those Gospels during the first century and a half after the death of Jesus" (Supernatural Religion, Vol. II, p. 248). Fifteen hundred years ago, Bishop Faustus, a heretical Christian theologian, referring to this so-called Gospel history, wrote: "It is allowed not to have been written by the son himself nor by his apostles, but long after by some unknown men who, lest they should be suspected of writing things they knew nothing of, gave to their books the names of the Apostles." The following is the verdict of the world's greatest Bible critic, Baur: "These Gospels are spurious, and were written in the second century." Acts, Catholic Epistles, and Revelation. The Acts of the Apostles is supposed to have been written by the author of the Third Gospel. Like this book it is anonymous and of late origin. It contains historical inaccuracies, contradicts the Gospel of Matthew, and conflicts with the writings of Paul. Concerning the last, the "Bible for Learners" (Vol. III, p. 25) says: "In the first two chapters of the Epistle to the Galatians, he [Paul] gives us several details of his own past life; and no sooner do we place his story side by side with that of the Acts than we clearly perceive that this book contains an incorrect account, and that its inaccuracy is not the result of accident or ignorance, but of a deliberate design." This book purports to be the product chiefly of three minds: that of the author who gives a historical sketch of the early church, and those of Peter and Paul whose discourses are reported. And yet the three compositions are clearly the products of one mind--that of the author. The evident purpose of the work is to heal the bitter dissensions which existed between the Petrine and Pauline churches, and this points unmistakably to the latter part of the second century as the date of its appearance, when the work of uniting the various Christian sects into the Catholic church began. Renan considers this the most faulty book of the New Testament. The seven Catholic Epistles, James, First and Second Peter, First, Second and Third John, and Jude, have never been held in very high esteem by the church. Many of the Christian Fathers rejected them, while modern Christian scholars have generally considered them of doubtful authenticity. The first and last of these were rejected by Martin Luther. "St. James' Epistle," says Luther, "is truly an epistle of straw" (Preface to Luther's New Testament, ed. 1524). Jude, he says, "is an abstract or copy of St. Peter's Second, and allegeth stories and sayings which have no place in Scripture" (Standing Preface). The First Epistle of Peter and the First Epistle of John have generally been accorded a higher degree of authority than the others; but even these were not written by apostles, nor in the first century. Dr. Soury says that First Peter "dates, in all probability, from the year 130 A. D., at the earliest" (Jesus and the Gospels, p. 32). Irenaeus, the founder of the New Testament canon, rejected it. The Dutch critics, who deny the Johannine authorship of the Fourth Gospel, and assign its composition to the second century, say: "The First Epistle of John soon issued from the same school in imitation of the Gospel" (Bible for Learners, Vol. III, p. 692). Second Peter is a forgery. Westcott says there is no proof of its existence prior to 170 A. D. Smith's "Bible Dictionary" says "Many reject the epistle as altogether spurious." The brief epistles of Second and Third John are anonymous and of very late origin. They do not purport to be the writings of John. The superscriptions declare them to be from an elder, and this precludes the claim that they are from an apostle. The early Fathers ignored them. Revelation is the only book in the Bible which claims to be the word of God. At the same time it is the book of which Christians have always been the most suspicious. It is addressed to the seven churches of Asia, but the seven churches of Asia rejected it. Concerning the attitude of ancient churchmen toward it, Dionysius, Bishop of Alexandria, says: "Divers of our predecessors have wholly refused and rejected this book, and by discussing the several parts thereof have found it obscure and void of reason and the title forged." "The most learned and intelligent of Protestant divines," says the Edinburgh Review, "almost all doubted or denied the canonicity of the book of Revelation." It is a book which, Dr. South said, "either found a man mad or left him so." Calvin and Beza both forbade their clergy to attempt an explanation of its contents. Luther says: "In the Revelation of John much is wanting to let me deem it either prophetic or apostolical" (Preface to N. T., 1524). Considered as evidences of Christ's historical existence and divinity these nine books are of no value. They are all anonymous writings or forgeries, and, with the possible exception of Revelation, of very late origin. While they affirm Christ's existence they are almost entirely silent regarding his life and miracles. The Epistles of Paul. Of the fourteen epistles ascribed to Paul, seven--Ephesians, Colossians, Second Thessalonians, First and Second Timothy, Titus, and Hebrews--are conceded by nearly all critics to be spurious, while three others--Philippians, First Thessalonians, and Philemon--are generally classed as doubtful. The general verdict concerning the first seven is thus expressed by the Rev. Dr. Hooykaas: "Fourteen epistles are said to be Paul's; but we must at once strike off one, namely, that to the Hebrews, which does not bear his name at all. ... The two letters to Timothy and the letter to Titus were certainly composed long after the death of Paul.... It is more than possible that the letters to the Ephesians and Colossians are also unauthentic, and the same suspicion rests, perhaps, on the first, but certainly on the second of the Epistles to the Thessalonians" (Bible for Learners, Vol. III, p. 23). The author of Second Thessalonians, whose epistle is a self-evident forgery, declares First Thessalonians to be a forgery. Baur and the Tubingen school reject both Epistles. Baur also rejects Philippians: "The Epistles to the Colossians and to the Philippians ... are spurious, and were written by the Catholic school near the end of the second century, to heal the strife between the Jew and the Gentile factions" (Paulus). Dr. Kuenen and the other Dutch critics admit that Philippians and Philemon, as well as First Thessalonians, are doubtful. That the Pastoral Epistles are forgeries is now conceded by all critics. According to the German critics they belong to the second century. Hebrews does not purport to be a Pauline document. Luther says: "The Epistle to the Hebrews is not by St. Paul, nor, indeed, by any apostle" (Standing Preface to Luther's N. T.). Four Epistles--Romans, First and Second Corinthians, and Galatians--while rejected by a few critics, are generally admitted to be the genuine writings of Paul. These books were written, it is claimed, about a quarter of a century after the death of Christ. They are the only books of the New Testament whose authenticity can be maintained. Admitting the authenticity of these books, however, is not admitting the historical existence of Christ and the divine origin of Christianity. Paul was not a witness of the alleged events upon which Christianity rests. He did not become a convert to Christianity until many years after the death of Christ. He did not see Christ (save in a vision); he did not listen to his teachings; he did not learn from his disciples. "The Gospel which was preached of me is not after man, for I neither received it of man, neither was I taught it" (Gal. i, 11, 12). Paul accepted only to a very small extent the religion of Christ's disciples. He professed to derive his knowledge from supernatural sources--from trances and visions. Regarding the value of such testimony the author of "Supernatural Religion" (p. 970) says: "No one can deny, and medical and psychological annals prove, that many men have been subject to visions and hallucinations which have never been seriously attributed to supernatural causes. There is not one single valid reason removing the ecstatic visions and trances of the Apostle Paul from this class." The corporeal existence of the Christ of the Evangelists receives slight confirmation in the writings of Paul. His Christ was not the incarnate Word of John, nor the demi-god of Matthew and Luke. Of the immaculate conception of Jesus he knew nothing. To him Christ was the son of God in a spiritual rather than in a physical sense. "His son Jesus Christ our Lord, which was made of the seed of David according to the flesh; and declared to be the son of God with power, according to the spirit of holiness, by the resurrection from the dead" (Rom. i, 3, 4). "God sent forth his son, made of a woman [but not of a virgin], made under the law" (Gal. iv, 4). With the Evangelists the proofs of Christ's divinity are his miracles. Their books teem with accounts of these. But Paul evidently knows nothing of these miracles. With him the evidences of Christ's divine mission are his resurrection and the spiritual gifts conferred on those who accept him. The Evangelists teach a material resurrection. When the women visited his tomb "they entered in and found not the body of Jesus" (Luke xxiv, 3). The divine messengers said to them, "He is not here, but is risen" (6). "He sat at meat" with his disciples; "he took bread, and blessed it, and brake, and gave to them" (30). "Then he said to Thomas, Reach hither thy finger, and behold my hands; and reach hither thy hand, and thrust it into my side" (John xx, 27). This is entirely at variance with the teachings of Paul. "But now is Christ risen from the dead, and become the first fruits of them that slept. For since by man came death, by man came also the resurrection of the dead" (1 Cor. xv, 20, 21). "But some man will say, How are the dead raised up? and with what body do they come? Thou fool, that which thou sowest is not quickened, except it die; and that which thou sowest, thou sowest not that body that shall be" (35-37). "It is sown a natural body; it is raised a spiritual body. There is a natural body, and there is a spiritual body" (44). "Now this I say brethren, that flesh and blood cannot inherit the kingdom of God" (50). The Christ that Paul saw in a vision was a spiritual being--an apparition; and this appearance he considers of exactly the same character as the post mortem appearances of Christ to his disciples. "He was seen of Cephas, then of the twelve; after that he was seen of above five hundred brethren at once; ... after that, he was seen of James; then of all the Apostles. And last of all, he was seen of me also" (1 Cor. xv, 5-8). CHAPTER IV. THE INFANCY OF CHRIST. We have seen that the Four Gospels are not authentic, that they are anonymous writings which appeared late in the second century. If their contents seemed credible and their statements harmonized with each other this want of authenticity would invalidate their authority, because the testimony of an unknown witness cannot be accepted as authoritative. On the other hand, if their authenticity could be established, if it could be shown that they were written by the authors claimed, the incredible and contradictory character of their contents would destroy their authority. As historical documents these books are hardly worthy of credit. The "Arabian Nights" is almost as worthy of credit as the Four Gospels. In both are to be found accounts of things possible and of things impossible. To believe the impossible is gross superstition; to believe the possible, simply because it is possible, is blind credulity. These books are adduced as the credentials of Christ. A critical analysis of these credentials reveals hundreds of errors. A presentation of these errors will occupy the five succeeding chapters of this work. If it can be shown that they contain errors, however trivial some of them may appear, this refutes the claim of inerrancy and divinity. If it can be shown that they abound with errors, this destroys their credibility as historical documents. Destroy the credibility of the Four Gospels and you destroy all proofs of Christ's divinity--all proofs of his existence. 1 When was Jesus born? Matthew: "In the days of Herod" (ii, 1). Luke: "When Cyrenius was governor of Syria" (ii, 1-7). Nearly every biographer gives the date of his subject's birth. Yet not one of the Evangelists gives the date of Jesus' birth. Two, Matthew and Luke, attempt to give the time approximately. But between these two attempts there is a discrepancy of at least ten years; for Herod died 4 B. C., while Cyrenius did not become governor of Syria until 7 A. D. A reconciliation of these statements is impossible. Matthew clearly states that Jesus was born during the reign of Herod. Luke states that Augustus Caesar issued a decree that the world should be taxed, that "this taxing was first made when Cyrenius was governor of Syria," and that Jesus was born at the time of this taxing. The following extracts from Josephus, the renowned historian of the race and country to which Jesus belonged, give the date of this taxing and the time that elapsed between the death of Herod and the taxing, and which reckoned backward from this gives the date of Herod's death: "And now Herod altered his testament upon the alteration of his mind; for he appointed Antipas, to whom he had before left his kingdom, to be tetrarch of Galilee and Berea, and granted the kingdom to Archelaus.... When he had done these things he died" (Antiquities, B. xvii, ch. 8, sec. 1). "But in the tenth year of Archelaus's government, both his brethren, and the principal men of Judea and Samaria, not being able to bear his barbarous and tyrannical usage of them, accused him before Caesar.... And when he was come [to Rome], Caesar, upon hearing what certain accusers of his had to say, and what reply he could make, both banished him, and appointed Vienna, a city of Gaul, to be the place of his habitation, and took his money away from him" (Ibid, ch. 13, sec. 2). "Archelaus's country was laid to the province of Syria; and Cyrenius, one that had been consul, was sent by Caesar to take account of people's effects in Syria, and to sell the house of Archelaus" (Ib. sec. 5). "When Cyrenius had now disposed of Archelaus's money, and when the taxings were come to a conclusion, which were made in the thirty-seventh of Caesar's victory over Antony at Actium," etc. (Ib., B. xviii, ch. 2, sec. 1). The battle of Actium was fought September 2, B. C. 31. The thirty-seventh year from this battle comprehended the time elapsing between September 2, A. D. 6, and September 2, A. D. 7, the mean of which was March 2, A. D. 7. The mean of the tenth year preceding this--the year in which Herod died--was September 2, B. C. 4. It has been suggested by some unacquainted with Roman history that Cyrenius [Quirinus] may have been twice governor of Syria. Cyrenius was but once governor of Syria, and this not until 7 A. D. During the last years of Herod's reign, and during all the years of Archelaus's reign, Sentius Saturninus and Quintilius Varus held this office. Even if Cyrenius had previously held the office the events related by Luke could not have occurred then because Judea prior to 7 A. D. was not a part of Syria. The second chapter of Luke which narrates the birth and infancy of Jesus, conflicts with the first chapter of this book. In this chapter it is expressly stated that Zacharias, the priest, lived in the time of Herod and, inferentially, that the conceptions of John and Jesus occurred at this time. Christian chronology, by which events are supposed to be reckoned from the birth of Christ, agrees with neither Matthew nor Luke, but dates from a point nearly intermediate between the two. According to Matthew, Christ was born at least five years before the beginning of the Christian era; according to Luke he was born at least six years after the beginning of the Christian era. This is 1907: but according to Matthew Christ was born not later than 1912 years ago; while according to Luke he was born not earlier than 1901 years ago. At least ten different opinions regarding the year of Christ's birth have been advanced by Christian scholars. Dodwell places it in 6 B. C., Chrysostom 5 B. C., Usher, whose opinion is most commonly received, 4 B. C., Irenaeus 3 B. C., Jerome 2 B. C., Tertullian 1 B. C. Some modern authorities place it in 1 A. D., others in 2 A. D., and still others in 3 A. D.; while those who accept Luke as infallible authority must place it as late as 7 A. D. 2 It is generally assumed that Jesus was born in the last year of Herod's reign. How long before the close of Herod's reign was he born? Matthew: At least two years (ii, 1-16). Matthew says that when the wise men visited Herod he diligently inquired of them the time when the star which announced the birth of Jesus first appeared. When he determined to destroy Jesus and massacred the infants of Bethlehem and the surrounding country, he slew those "from two years old and under, according to the time which he had diligently inquired of the wise men," clearly indicating that Jesus was nearly or quite two years old at this time. In attempting to reconcile Matthew's visit of the wise men to Jesus at Bethlehem with the narrative of Luke, which makes his stay there less than six weeks, it has been assumed that this visit occurred immediately after his birth, whereas, according to Matthew, it did not occur until about two years after his birth. 3 In what month and on what day of the month was he born? Not one of his biographers is prepared to tell; primitive Christians did not know; the church has never been able to determine this. A hundred different opinions regarding it have been expressed by Christian scholars. Wagenseil places it in February, Paulius in March, Greswell in April, Lichtenstein in June, Strong in August, Lightfoot in September, and Newcome in October. Clinton says that he was born in the Spring; Larchur says that he was born in the Fall. Some early Christians believed that it occurred on the 5th of January; others the 19th of April; others still on the 20th of May. The Eastern church believed that he was born on the 7th of January. The church of Rome, in the fourth century, selected the 25th of December on which to celebrate the anniversary of his birth; and this date has been accepted by the greater portion of the Christian world. 4 What determined the selection of this date? "There was a double reason for selecting this day. In the first place it had been observed from a hoary antiquity as a heathen festival, following the longest night of the winter solstice, and was called 'the Birthday of the Unconquerable Sun.' It was a fine thought to celebrate on that day the birth of him whom the Gospel called "the light of the world".... The second reason was, that at Rome the days from the 17th to the 23d of December were devoted to unbridled merrymaking. These days were called the Saturnalia.... Now the church was always anxious to meet the heathen, whom she had converted or was beginning to convert, half-way, by allowing them to retain the feasts they were accustomed to, only giving them a Christian dress, or attaching a new and Christian signification to them" (Bible for Learners, vol. iii, pp. 66, 67). Gibbon says: "The Roman Christians, ignorant of the real time of the birth of Jesus, fixed the solemn festival on the 25th of December, the winter solstice when the Pagans annually celebrated the birth of the sun." 5 What precludes the acceptance of this date? Luke: At the time of his birth "there were in the same country shepherds abiding in the field, keeping watch over their flocks by night" (ii, 8). Shepherds did not abide in the field with their flocks at night in mid-winter. The Rev. Cunningham Geikie, D. D., a leading English orthodox authority on Christ, says: "One knows how wretched even Rome is in winter and Palestine is much worse during hard weather. Nor is it likely that shepherds would lie out through the night, except during unseasonably fine weather" (Christmas at Bethlehem, in Deems' Holydays and Holidays, p. 405). "The nativity of Jesus in December should be given up."--Dr. Adam Clarke. In regard to the date of Christ's birth Dr. Farrar says: "It must be admitted that we cannot demonstrate the exact year of the nativity.... As to the day and month of the nativity it is certain that they can never be recovered; they were absolutely unknown to the early fathers, and there is scarcely one month of the year which has not been fixed upon as probable by modern critics." The inability of Christians to determine the date of Christ's birth is one of the strongest proofs of his non-existence as a historical character. Were the story of his miraculous birth and marvelous life true the date of his birth would have been preserved and would be today, the best authenticated fact in history. 6 Where was Jesus born? Matthew and Luke: In Bethlehem of Judea (Matt. ii, 1; Luke ii, 1-7). Aside from these stories in Matthew and Luke concerning the nativity, which are clearly of later origin than the remaining documents composing the books and which many Christian scholars reject, there is not a word in the Four Gospels to confirm the claim that Jesus was born in Bethlehem. Every statement in Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John, as well as Acts, concerning his nativity, is to the effect that he was born in Nazareth of Galilee. He is never called "Jesus of Bethlehem," but always "Jesus of Nazareth." According to modern usage "Jesus of Nazareth" might merely signify that Nazareth was the place of his residence and not necessarily the place of his birth. But this usage was unknown to the Jews. Had he been born at Bethlehem, he would, according to the Jewish custom, have been called "Jesus of Bethlehem," because the place of birth always determined this distinguishing adjunct, and the fact of his having removed to another place would not have changed it. Peter (Acts ii, 22; iii, 6); Paul (Acts xxvi, 9), Philip (John i, 45), Cleopas and his companion (Luke xxiv, 19), Pilate (John xix, 19), Judas and the band sent to arrest Jesus (John xviii, 5, 7), the High Priest's maid (Mark xiv, 67), blind Bartimaeus (Mark x, 47), the unclean spirits (Mark i, 24; Luke iv, 34), the multitudes that attended his meetings (Matt. xxi, 11; Luke xviii, 37), all declared him to be a native of Nazareth. To the foregoing may be added the testimony of Jesus himself. When Paul asked him who he was he answered: "I am Jesus of Nazareth" (Acts xxii, 8). Many of the Jews rejected Christ because he was born in Galilee and not in Bethlehem. "Others said, This is the Christ. But some said, Shall Christ come out of Galilee? Hath not the scriptures said, That Christ cometh out of the seed of David, and out of the town of Bethlehem, where David was?" (John vii, 41, 42). Concerning this subject the "Bible for Learners" says: "The primitive tradition declared emphatically that Nazareth was the place from which Jesus came. We may still see this distinctly enough in our Gospels. Jesus is constantly called the Nazarene, or Jesus of Nazareth. This was certainly the name by which he was known in his own time; and of course such local names were given to men from the place of their birth, and not from the place in which they lived, which might constantly be changing. Nazareth is called in so many words his own, that is his native city, and he himself declares it so" (vol. iii, pp. 39, 40). That Jesus the man, if such a being existed, was not born at Bethlehem is affirmed by all critics. That he could not have been born at Nazareth is urged by many. Nazareth, it is asserted, did not exist at this time. Christian scholars admit that there is no proof of its existence at the beginning of the Christian era outside of the New Testament. The Encyclopedia Biblica, a leading Christian authority, says: "We cannot perhaps venture to assert positively that there was a city called Nazareth in Jesus' time." 7 His reputed birth at Bethlehem was in fulfillment of what prophecy? "And thou Bethlehem, in the land of Juda, art not the least among the princes of Juda; for out of thee shall come a governor that shall rule my people Israel" (Matthew ii, 6). This is a misquotation of Micah v, 2. The passage as it appears in our version of the Old Testament is itself a mistranslation. Correctly rendered it does not mean that this ruler shall come from Bethlehem, but simply that he shall be a descendant of David whose family belonged to Bethlehem. Concerning this prophecy it may be said, 1. That Jesus never became governor or ruler of Israel; 2. That the ruler referred to was to be a military leader who should deliver Israel from the Assyrians. "And this man shall be the peace, when the Assyrian shall come into the land ... thus shall he deliver us from the Assyrian" (Micah v, 5, 6). 8 Jesus is called the Son of David. Why? Matthew and Luke: Because Joseph, who was not his father, but merely his guardian or foster father, was descended from David. The Jews expected a Messiah. This expectation was realized, it is claimed, in Jesus Christ. His Messianic marks, however, were not discernible and the Jews, for the most part, rejected him. This Messiah must be a son of David. Before Jesus' claims could even be considered his Davidic descent must be established. This Matthew and Luke attempt to do. Each gives what purports to be a genealogy of him. If these genealogies agree they may be false; if they do not agree one must be false. 9 How many generations were there from David to Jesus? Matthew: Twenty-eight (i, 6-16). Luke: Forty-three (iii, 23-31). Luke makes two more generations from David to Jesus in a period of one thousand years than Matthew does from Abraham to Jesus in a period of two thousand years. 10 How many generations were there from Abraham to Jesus? Matthew: "From Abraham to David are fourteen generations; and from David until the carrying away into Babylon are fourteen generations; and from the carrying away into Babylon unto Christ are fourteen generations"--in all, forty-two generations (i, 17). Here Matthew contradicts his own record given in the preceding sixteen verses; for, including both Abraham and Jesus, he names but forty-one generations: 1. Abraham, 2. Isaac, 3. Jacob, 4. Judas, 5. Phares, 6. Ezrom, 7. Aram, 8. Aminadab, 9. Naason, 10. Salmon, 11. Booz, 12. Obed, 13. Jesse, 14. David, 15. Solomon, 16. Roboam, 17. Abia, 18. Asa, 19. Josaphat, 20. Joram, 21. Ozias, 22. Joatham, 23. Achaz, 24. Ezekias, 25. Manasses, 26. Amon, 27. Josias, 28. Jechonias, 29. Salathiel, 30. Zorobabel, 31. Abiud, 32. Eliakim, 33. Azor, 34. Sadoc, 35. Achim, 36. Eliud, 37. Eleazer, 38. Matthan, 39. Jacob, 40. Joseph, 41. Jesus Christ. 11 Does Luke's genealogy agree with the Old Testament? It does not. Luke gives twenty generations from Adam to Abraham, while Genesis (v, 3-32; xi, 10-26) and Chronicles (1 Ch. i, 1-4; 24-27) each gives but nineteen. 12 How many generations were there from Abraham to David? Matthew: "From Abraham to David are fourteen generations" (i, 17). From Abraham to David are not fourteen, but thirteen generations; for David does not belong to this period. The genealogical table of Matthew naturally and logically comprises three divisions which he recognizes. The first division comprises the generations preceding the establishment of the Kingdom of David, beginning with Abraham; the second comprises the kings of Judah, beginning with David the first and ending with Jechonias the last; the third comprises the generations following the kings of Judah, from the Captivity to Christ. 13 How many generations were there from David to the Captivity? Matthew: "From David until the carrying away into Babylon are fourteen generations" (i, 17). In order to obtain a uniformity of numbers--three periods of double seven (seven was the sacred number of the Jews) each--Matthew purposely falsifies the records of the Old Testament. A reference to the Davidic genealogy (1 Chronicles iii) shows that he omits the generations of Ahaziah, Joash, Amaziah, and Jehoiakim, four Jewish kings, lineal descendants of David, whose combined reigns amount to over eighty years. Matthew. Chronicles. David, David, Solomon, Solomon, Reboam, Rehoboam, Abia, Abia, Asa, Asa, Josaphat, Jehoshaphat, Joram, Joram, Ahaziah, Joash, Amaziah, Ozias, Azariah, Joatham, Jotham, Achaz, Ahaz, Ezekias, Hezekiah, Manasses, Manasseh, Amon, Amon, Josias, Josiah, Jehoiakim, Jechonias. Jechoniah. The first three omissions are thus explained by Augustine: "Ochozias [Ahaziah], Joash, and Amazias were excluded from the number, because their wickedness was continuous and without interval." As if the exclusion of their names from a genealogical list would expunge their records from history and drain their blood from the veins of their descendants. But aside from the absurdity of this explanation, the premises are false. Those whose names are excluded from the list were not men whose "wickedness was continuous and without interval," while some whose names are not excluded were. Ahaziah reigned but one year. Joash reigned forty years and both Kings and Chronicles affirm that "He did that which was right in the sight of the Lord" (2 Kings xii, 2; 2 Chron. xxiv, 2). Amaziah reigned twenty-nine years, and he, too, "did that which was right in the sight of the Lord" (2 Kings xiv, 3). On the other hand, Rehoboam, Joram and Jechonias, whose names are retained in Matthew's table, are represented as monsters of wickedness. 14 Name the generations from David to the Captivity. Matthew. Luke. David, David, Solomon, Nathan, Roboam, Mattatha, Abia, Menan, Asa, Melea, Josaphat, Eliakim, Joram, Jonan, Ozias, Joseph, Joatham, Juda, Achas, Simeon, Ezekias, Levi, Manasses, Matthat, Amon, Jorim, Josias, Eliezer, Jechonias. Jose, Er, Elmodam, Cosam, Addi, Melchi, Neri. 15 How many generations were there from the Captivity to Christ? Matthew: "From the carrying away into Babylon unto Christ are fourteen generations" (i, 17). Matthew is again guilty of deception. A reference to his table shows that there were but thirteen generations. In order to carry out his numerical system of fourteen generations to each period he counts the generation of Jechonias in this period which he has already counted in the preceding period; thus performing the mathematical feat of dividing 27 by 2 and obtaining 14 for a quotient. Had Matthew given a true summary of this genealogy, assuming the generations from the close of the Old Testament record to Christ to be correct, instead of these periods of double seven each, we would have the following: "So all the generations from Abraham to David are thirteen generations; and from David until the carrying away into Babylon are nineteen generations; and from the carrying away into Babylon unto Christ are thirteen generations." 16 Name the generations from the Captivity to Christ. Matthew. Luke. Chronicles. Salathiel, Salathiel, Pediah, Zorobabel, Zorobabel, Zerubabel, Abiud, Rhesa, Hananiah, Eliakim, Joanna, Schecania, Azor, Juda, Shemaiah, Sadoc, Joseph, Neariah, Achim, Semei, Elioenai, Eliud, Mattathias, Hodaiah, Eleazer, Maath, (Here the genealogy of Chronicles ends.) Matthan, Nagge, Jacob, Esli, Joseph, Naum, Jesus. Amos, Mattathias, Joseph, Janna, Melchi, Levi, Heli, Matthat, Joseph, Jesus. 17 According to the accepted chronology, what was the average age of each generation from David to Jesus? Luke: Twenty-five years. Matthew: Forty years. 18 What was the average age from David to the Captivity? Matthew: Thirty-seven years. According to Chronicles the average age of the same line for the same period was but twenty-six years. 19 What was the average age from the Captivity to Jesus? Luke: Twenty-eight years. Matthew: Fifty years. While the average age from David to the Captivity by way of Solomon was but twenty-six years the average age from the Captivity to Jesus by the same line, according to Matthew, was fifty years. This proves the falsity of Matthew's genealogy from the Captivity to Jesus. 20 What was the average length of each generation from Abraham to David? Matthew and Luke: Seventy years. Seventy years is said to constitute the natural life of man. According to these Evangelists Christ's Pre-Davidic ancestors only reached maturity at seventy. How slow was man's development then--a babe in his mother's arms at twenty; a playful child at forty; at sixty an ardent youth wooing a blushing maiden of half a hundred years; at three score years and ten a fond young father rejoicing at the birth of his first-born! 21 What was the average length of each generation from Adam to Abraham? Luke: One hundred years. 22 How many generations were there from Adam to Abraham? Luke: Twenty (iii, 34-38). Luke makes less than half as many generations from Adam to Abraham in a period of two thousand years as he does from David to Jesus in a period of one thousand years. 23 How many generations were there between Rachab, the mother of Booz, and David? Matthew: Three--Booz, Obed and Jesse (i, 5, 6). Rachab lived at Jericho when it was taken by the Israelites. Jericho was taken 1451 B. C., the year that Moses died. David was born 1085 B. C.--nearly four centuries later. 24 Assuming the generations following the Captivity in Matthew and Chronicles to run parallel, how many generations were there between the last generation named in Chronicles and Jesus? Matthew: Four. Yet Chronicles was written, it is claimed, from 458 to 604 years before Christ. "If the Chronicles were written by Ezra, the date of their composition was not far from B. C. 458, the year of the return from the Captivity. If by Daniel, the earlier period of from 604 to 534 must be adopted."--Rev. Dr. Hitchcock. 25 Name the first ten ancestors of Jesus. Luke: Adam, Seth, Enos, Cainan, Maleleel, Jared, Enoch, Mathusala, Lamech, Noe (iii, 36-38). Archeological researches have shown these to be ten Babylonian kings. 26 Who was Sala? Luke: "Sala, which was the son of Cainan, which was the son of Arphaxad" (iii, 35, 36). "And Arphaxad lived five and thirty years and begat Salah" (Genesis xi, 12). According to Luke Sala was the grand-son of Arphaxad; according to Genesis he was the son of Arphaxad. 27 Who begat Ozias? Matthew: "Joram begat Ozias" (i, 8). "Ahaziah his [Joram's] son, Joash his son, Amaziah his son, Azariah [Ozias] his son" (1 Chronicles iii, 11, 12). According to the New Testament Ozias was the son of Joram; according to the Old Testament he was the great great-grandson of Joram. 28 Who was Josiah's successor? Matthew: Jechonias (i, 11). "Then the people of the land took Jehoahaz, the son of Josiah, and made him king in his father's stead" (2 Chronicles xxxvi, 1). "For thus saith the Lord touching Shallum, the son of Josiah, king of Judah, which reigned instead of Josiah, his father" (Jeremiah xxii, 11). "And Pharaoh-nechoh made Eliakim the son of Josiah king in the room of Josiah, his father, and turned his name to Jehoiakim" (2 Kings xxiii, 34). According to Matthew, Josiah's successor was Jechonias; according to Chronicles, Jehoahaz; according to Jeremiah, Shallum; according to Kings, Jehoiakim. 29 Who was the father of Jechonias? Matthew: "Josias begat Jechonias" (i, 11). Josias was not the father but the grandfather of Jechonias. "And the sons of Josiah were, ... the second Jehoiakim.... And the sons of Jehoiakim: Jechoniah, his son" (1 Chron. iii, 15, 16). 30 When did Josias beget Jechonias? Matthew: "And Josias begat Jechonias and his brethren, about the time they were carried away into Babylon" (i, 11). Josiah became king 641 B. C. and died 610 B. C. Jechonias was carried to Babylon 588 B. C., 22 years after Josiah died. 31 Did Jechonias have a son? Matthew: "And after they were brought to Babylon, Jechonias begat Salathiel" (i, 12). "As I live, saith the Lord, though Coniah [Jechonias], the son of Jehoiakim, king of Judah, were the signet upon my right hand, yet would I pluck thee thence.... O earth, earth, earth, hear the word of the Lord. Thus saith the Lord, Write ye this man childless, a man that shall not prosper in his days: for no man of his seed shall prosper, sitting upon the throne of David, and ruling no more in Judah" (Jeremiah xxii, 24-30). This curse was pronounced upon Jechonias before he was taken to Babylon. By this divine oath Jesus is precluded from becoming an heir to the throne of David. God swears that Jechonias shall be childless, and that no descendant of his shall ever sit upon the throne. Yet Matthew, in the face of this oath, declares that Jechonias did not remain childless, that he begat a son, Salathiel, the progenitor of Jesus. In attempting to make Jesus an heir to David's throne Matthew makes God a liar and perjurer. 32 Matthew says that Salathiel was the son of Jechonias. Who does Luke declare him to be? "The son of Neri" (iii, 27). 33 Who was the father of Zorobabel? Matthew: "And Salathiel begat Zorobabel" (i, 12). Luke: "Zorobabel, which was the son of Salathiel" (iii, 27). Here both Evangelists agree--agree to disagree with Chronicles which says that Zorobabel was the son of Pedaiah, the brother of Salathiel. "And the sons of Pedaiah were Zerubbabel and Shimei" (1 Chron. iii, 19). 34 Who was the son of Zorobabel? Matthew: "And Zorobabel begat Abiud" (i, 13). Luke: "Rhesa, which was the son of Zorobabel" (iii, 27). Each contradicts the other, and both contradict the Old Testament (1 Chron. iii, 19, 20). 35 Who was the father of Joseph? Matthew: "And Jacob begat Joseph" (i, 16). Luke: "Joseph, which was the son of Heli" (iii, 23). 36 If Jesus was descended from David, the descent was through one of David's sons. Which one? Matthew: Solomon (i, 6-16). Luke: Nathan (iii, 23-31). Luke reaches the same person by way of one brother that Matthew does by way of the other. 37 Many commentators attempt to reconcile these discordant genealogies by assuming that Matthew gives the genealogy of Joseph, while Luke gives the genealogy of Mary. What do the Evangelists themselves declare? Matthew: "And Jacob begat Joseph the husband of Mary, of whom was born Jesus, who is called Christ," etc. (i, 16). Luke: "And Jesus himself began to be about thirty years of age, being (as was supposed) the son of Joseph, which was the son of Heli," etc. (iii, 23). Dr. Geikie, in his "Life of Christ" (vol. i, p. 531, note), says: "The genealogies given by both Matthew and Luke seem unquestionably to refer to Joseph." Regarding this the Rev. Dr. McNaught says: "Let the reader bear in mind how Matthew states that 'Jacob begat Joseph, the husband of Mary,' and how Luke's words are 'Joseph which was the son of Heli,' and then let him say whether it is truthful to allege that these different genealogies belong to different individuals. Is it not plain that each of them professes to trace the lineal descent of one and the same man, Joseph?" William Rathbone Greg says: "The circumstance that any man could suppose that Matthew when he said, 'Jacob begat Joseph,' or Luke, when he said, 'Joseph was the son of Heli,' could refer to the wife of the one, or the daughter-in-law of the other, shows to what desperate stratagems polemical orthodoxy will resort in order to defend an untenable position." Smith's "Bible Dictionary" offers the following explanation: "They are both the genealogies of Joseph, i. e., of Jesus Christ, as the reputed and legal son of Joseph and Mary. The genealogy of St. Matthew is Joseph's genealogy as legal successor to the throne of David. St. Luke's is Joseph's private genealogy, exhibiting his real birth, as David's son, and thus showing why he was heir to Solomon's crown. The simple principle that one Evangelist exhibits that genealogy which contained the successive heirs to David's and Solomon's throne, while the other exhibits the paternal stem of him who was the heir, explains all the anomalies of the two pedigrees." This "simple principle" necessitates three disagreeable postulates. 1. That the lineage of Nathan, who is not the recorded possessor of even one wife, survived, while that of Solomon who had seven hundred wives became extinct. 2. That Joseph was legal successor to the throne of David, when Heli, his father, was not. 3. That the first chapter of Matthew contains more than a score of errors. That little word "begat" is fatal to the above theory. Matthew declares that Jacob begat Joseph. If Jacob begat Joseph, then Jacob, and not Heli, was the father of Joseph. According to Matthew, the royal line descends from David to Joseph unbroken; each heir begetting the succeeding one, thus precluding the possibility of a collateral branch inheriting the throne. The hypothesis that Jesus was merely the adopted son and legal heir of Joseph and yet fulfilled the Messianic requirements is untenable. Strauss says: "Adoption might indeed suffice to secure to the adopted son the reversion of certain external family rights and inheritances; but such a relationship could in no wise lend a claim to the Messianic dignity, which was attached to the true blood and lineage of David" (Leben Jesu, p. 122). The Messiah must be a natural and lineal descendant of David, which Peter expressly declares Jesus to be: "God had sworn with an oath to him [David], that of the fruit of his loins, according to the flesh, he would raise up Christ to sit on his throne" (Acts ii, 30). It is assumed by some that a Levirate marriage had taken place between the parents of Joseph, and that the one genealogy belonged to the natural, the others to the legal father of Joseph. By a Levirate marriage if a man died without heirs his remaining brother married his widow and raised up heirs to him. But in this case the brothers would have the same father, and the genealogies would differ only in the father of Joseph. It is only by a succession of Levirate marriages and a juggling of words, which no intelligent critic can seriously entertain, that such a hypothesis can be considered possible, even waiving the Old Testament writers, and the Evangelists themselves, whose language forbids it. Eusebius advances an explanation characteristic of this ecclesiastical historian and of the early church whose history he professes to record. The Jews, it is said, were divided in their opinions regarding the descent of the Messiah. While some contended that his descent must be through the royal line, others believed that because of the excessive wickedness of the kings the descent would be through another line. Eusebius says: "Matthew gives his opinion, Luke repeats the common opinion of many, not his own.... This last view Luke takes, though conscious that Matthew gives the real truth of the genealogy." Matthew's genealogy is self-evidently false; while Luke's according to the admission of the historian of the primitive church, is merely a fabrication of early Christians, designed to influence those who rejected Matthew's genealogy of the Messiah. 38 If the miraculous conception be true the Davidic descent could only be through Mary. Was Mary descended from David? "We are wholly ignorant of the name and occupation of St. Mary's parents. She was, like Joseph, of the tribe of Judah, and of the lineage of David (Ps. cxxxii, 11; Luke i, 32; Rom. i, 3)."--Smith's Bible Dictionary. Three passages are cited in support of this claim: 1. "The Lord hath sworn in truth unto David; he will not turn from it. Of the fruit of thy body will I sit upon thy throne. If thy children will keep my covenant and my testimony that I shall teach them, their children shall also sit upon thy throne forevermore" (Ps. cxxxii, 11, 12). 2. "He shall be great, and shall be called the son of the Highest; and the Lord God shall give unto him the throne of his father David" (Luke i, 32). 3. "Concerning his son Jesus Christ our Lord, which was made of the seed of David according to the flesh" (Rom. i, 3). The second and third passages do not refer to Mary; the first passage refers neither to Jesus nor Mary. There is no evidence to prove that Mary was descended from David. On the contrary there is evidence to prove that she was not descended from him. 1. "The angel Gabriel was sent from God unto a city in Galilee, called Nazareth, to a virgin espoused to a man whose name was Joseph, of the house of David; and the virgin's name was Mary" (Luke i, 27). Joseph, and not Mary is declared to be of the house of David. 2. It is stated that Joseph went to Bethlehem "to be taxed with Mary," not because they, but "because he was of the house and lineage of David" (Luke ii, 4, 5). 3. Mary was the cousin of Elizabeth (Luke i, 3), and Elizabeth "was of the daughters of Aaron" (i, 5), i. e., descended from Levi, while the house of David was descended from Judah. This desperate, yet ineffectual, effort to establish the Davidic descent of Mary is virtually an abandonment of the genealogical tables of Matthew and Luke, and a falling back upon this pitiable argumentum in circulo: Mary was descended from David because the Messiah was to be descended from David, and Jesus was the Messiah because Mary was descended from David. These genealogies do not give the lineage of Mary who is said to have been his only earthly parent, but the lineage of Joseph who, it is claimed, was not his father. But if Joseph was not the father of Jesus, what is the use of giving his pedigree? If Joseph was not the father of Jesus how does proving that he was descended from David prove that Jesus was descended from David? If these genealogies run through Joseph to Jesus, as stated by Matthew and Luke, then Joseph must have been the father of Jesus; and if he was the father of Jesus the story of the miraculous conception is false. The Synoptics, as we have seen, are for the most part, mere compilations, made up of preexisting documents. These documents belonged to different ages of the primitive church. In the first ages of the church Christians believed that Jesus was simply a man--the son of Joseph and Mary. The genealogies of Matthew and Luke, which trace his descent from David through Joseph, belonged to this age. The story of the miraculous conception was the product of a later age. If the dogma of the miraculous conception be true, if God, and not Joseph, was the father of Jesus as taught, these genealogies, being genealogies of Joseph, fail to prove what they are intended to prove, the royal descent of Jesus from David. The genealogies of Matthew and Luke and their accounts of the miraculous conception mutually exclude each other. 39 Did Jesus believe himself to be descended from David? Synoptics: He did not (Matt. xxii, 41-46; Mark xii, 35-37; Luke xx, 41-44). A principal objection to accepting Jesus as the Messiah by the Jews was the fact that he was not descended from David. He tacitly admitted that he was not, and the whole burden of his argument was to convince them that it was not necessary that he should be. 40 The miraculous conception was in fulfillment of what prophecy? Matthew: "Now all this was done, that it might be fulfilled which was spoken of the Lord by the prophet, saying, Behold, a virgin shall be with child, and shall bring forth a son, and they shall call his name Emmanuel" (i, 22, 23). This is esteemed the "Gem of the Prophecies," and may be found in the seventh chapter of Isaiah. The facts are these: Rezin, king of Syria, and Pekah, king of Israel, had declared war against Ahaz, king of Judah. God assured Ahaz that they should not succeed, but that their own kingdoms should be destroyed by the Assyrians. To convince him of the truth of this he requested Ahaz to demand a sign. "But Ahaz said, I will not ask, neither will I tempt the Lord.... Therefore the Lord himself shall give you a sign; Behold, a virgin shall conceive, and bear a son, and shall call his name Emmanuel.... Before the child shall know to refuse the evil, and choose the good, the land that thou abhorrest shall be forsaken of both her kings." In the succeeding chapter the fulfillment of this prophecy is recorded: "And I went unto the prophetess; and she conceived, and bare a son. Then said the Lord to me, Call his name Maher-shalal-hash-baz. For before the child shall have knowledge to cry, My father, and my mother, the riches of Damascus [the capital of Rezin's kingdom] and the spoils of Samaria [the capital of Pekah's kingdom] shall be taken away before the king of Assyria." Rezin and Pekah were overthrown by the Assyrians about 720 B. C. One of the most convincing proofs of Christ's divinity, with many, is the supposed fact that he was born of a virgin and that his miraculous birth was foretold by a prophet seven hundred years before the event occurred. Now, there is not a passage in the Jewish Scriptures declaring that a child should be born of a virgin. The word translated "virgin" does not mean a virgin in the accepted sense of the term, but simply a young woman, either married or single. The whole passage is a mistranslation. The words rendered "a virgin shall conceive and bear a son" should read, "a young woman is with child and beareth a son." In this so-called prophecy there is not the remotest reference to a miraculous conception and a virgin-born child. The Jews themselves did not regard this passage as a Messianic prophecy; neither did they believe that the Messiah was to be born of a virgin. Next to the preceding the following is most frequently cited as a Messianic prophecy: "The sceptre shall not depart from Judah, ... until Shiloh come" (Genesis xlix, 10). If Shiloh refers to Christ the prophecy was not fulfilled, for the sceptre did depart from Judah 600 years before Christ came. But Shiloh does not refer to a Messiah, nor to any man. Shiloh was the seat of the national sanctuary before it was removed to Jerusalem. This so-called prophecy, like the preceding, is a mistranslation. The correct reading is as follows: "The preeminence shall not depart from Judah so long as the people resort to Shiloh." "For unto us a child is born, unto us a son is given; and the government shall be upon his shoulder; and his name shall be declared Wonderful, Counsellor, The Mighty God, the everlasting Father, the Prince of Peace" (Isaiah ix, 6). Prof. Cheyne, the highest authority on Isaiah, pronounces this a forgery. Every honest Christian scholar must admit this. It is a self-evident forgery. No Jewish writer could have written it. To have declared even the Messiah to be "The mighty God, the everlasting Father" would have been the rankest blasphemy, a crime the punishment of which was death. These alleged Messianic prophecies are, in their present form, Christian rather than Jewish. Christian translators and exegetists have altered their language and perverted their meaning to make them appear to refer to Christ. The following is an example: "I will raise unto David a righteous Branch, and a King shall reign and prosper, and shall execute judgment and justice in the earth. In his days Judah shall be saved, and Israel shall dwell safely; and this is his name whereby he shall be called, THE LORD OUR RIGHTEOUSNESS" (Jeremiah xxiii, 5, 6). The correct rendering of this passage is as follows: "I will raise unto David a righteous branch, and a king shall reign and prosper, and shall execute judgment and justice in the land. In his days Judah shall be saved and Israel shall dwell safely; and this is the name whereby they shall call themselves: The Eternal is our righteousness." To make a Messianic prophecy of this passage and give it effect no less than eight pieces of deception were employed by the editors of our Authorized Version: 1. The word "branch" is made to begin with a capital letter. 2. The word "king" also begins with a capital. 3. "The name" is rendered "his name." 4. The pronoun "they," relating to the people of Judah and Israel, is changed to "he." 5. The word "Eternal" is translated "Lord." 6. "The Lord our righteousness" is printed in capitals. 7. In the table of contents, at the head of the chapter, are the words "Christ shall rule and save them." 8. At the top of the page are the words "Christ promised." Another example of this Messianic prophecy making is the following: "Know therefore and understand that from the going forth of the commandment to restore and to build Jerusalem, unto Messiah the Prince, shall be seven weeks, and three score and two weeks" (Daniel ix, 25). The term "week," it is claimed, means a period of seven years, and assumed that by Messiah is meant Christ. Seven weeks and three score and two weeks are sixty-nine weeks, or 483 years, the time that was to elapse from the command to rebuild Jerusalem to the coming of Christ, if the prophecy was fulfilled. The decree of Cyrus to rebuild Jerusalem and the temple was made 536 B. C. According to the accepted chronology Christ was born 4 B. C. From the decree of Cyrus, then, to the coming of Christ was 532 years instead of 483 years, a period of seven weeks, or forty-nine years, longer than that named by Daniel. Ezra, the priest, went to Jerusalem 457 B. C. This event, however, had nothing whatever to do with the decree for rebuilding Jerusalem and the temple. It occurred 79 years after the decree was issued, and 58 years after the temple was finished. But a searcher for Messianic prophecies found that from the time of Ezra to the beginning of Christ's ministry was about 483 years, or sixty-nine prophetic weeks; and notwithstanding there was a deficiency of 79 years at one end of the period, and an excess of 30 years at the other, it was declared to fit exactly. Christian theologians pretend to recognize in the Old Testament two kinds of Messianic prophecies: 1. Specific predictions concerning Christ which were literally fulfilled; 2. Passages in which the writer refers to other persons or events, but which God, without the writer's knowledge, designed as types of Christ. The fallaciousness of the former having been exposed--it having been shown that there is not a text in the Jewish Scriptures predicting the coming of Christ--they now rely chiefly upon the latter to support their claims. These "prophecies" are almost limitless; for a firm believer in prophecy can, with a vivid imagination, take almost any passage and point out a fancied resemblance between the thing it refers to and the thing he wants confirmed; apparently oblivious to the fact that the passage is equally applicable to a thousand other things. Had the Mormons accepted Joe Smith as a Messiah instead of a prophet they would have no lack of prophecies to support their claims; and by translating and revising the Scriptures to suit their views, as Christians did, these prophecies would fit him as well as they do the Christ. 41 What name was to be given the child mentioned in Isaiah's prophecy? "They shall call his name Emmanuel" (Matthew i, 23). What name was to be given Mary's son? "Thou shalt call his name Jesus" (Matt. i, 21). In the naming of the Christian Messiah Isaiah's prophecy was not fulfilled. He was never called Emmanuel, but Jesus. 42 To whom did the angel announcing the miraculous conception appear? Matthew: To Joseph (i, 20, 21). Luke: To Mary (i, 26-38). "An angel did not appear, first to Mary, and also afterwards to Joseph; he can only have appeared either to the one or to the other. Consequently, it is only the one or the other relation which can be regarded as historical. And here different considerations would conduct to opposite decisions.... Every criticism which might determine the adoption of the one, and the rejection of the other, disappears; and we find ourselves, in reference to both accounts, driven back by necessity to the mythical view."--Strauss. 43 For what purpose was the Annunciation made? Luke: Simply to acquaint Mary with the heavenly decree that she had been chosen to become the mother of the coming Messiah (i, 26-33). Matthew: To allay the suspicions of Joseph respecting Mary's chastity and prevent him from putting her away (i, 18-20). 44 Did the Annunciation take place before or after Mary's conception? Luke: Before (i, 26-31). Matthew: After (i, 18-20). 45 Who was declared to be the father of Jesus? Matthew: The Holy Ghost (i, 18, 20). With the Jews the Holy Ghost (Spirit) was of feminine gender; with the Greeks, of masculine gender. The belief that the Holy Ghost was the father of Jesus originated, not with the Jewish Christians of Palestine, as claimed, but with the Greek Christians of Alexandria. 46 What prediction did the angel Gabriel make to Mary concerning Jesus? "The Lord shall give unto him the throne of his father David" (Luke i, 32). Respecting this prediction the Rev. Dr. Hooykaas, of Holland, says: "If a messenger from Heaven had really come to bring a divine revelation to Mary, the result must have confirmed his prediction; and since Jesus never fulfilled these expectations it is obvious that the revelation was never made." 47 When Mary visited Elizabeth what did she do? Luke: She uttered a hymn of praise (i, 46-55). Had Mary uttered such a hymn we would suppose that it would have been original and inspired by the Almighty Father of her unborn child. Yet the hymn which Luke puts into her mouth was borrowed from the song of Hannah. Hannah. Mary. "My heart rejoiceth in the Lord" (1 "My spirit hath rejoiced in God" Sam. ii, 1). (Luke i, 47). "If thou wilt indeed look on the "For he hath regarded the low affliction of thine handmaid" (i, estate of his handmaiden" (48). 11). "Talk no more so exceeding proudly" "He hath scattered the proud" (ii, 3). (51). "The bows of the mighty men are "He hath put down the mighty from broken, and they that stumbled are their seats and exalted them of girded with strength (4). low degree" (52). "They that were full hath hired out "He hath filled the hungry with themselves for bread; and they that good things; and the rich he hath were hungry ceased" (5). sent empty away" (53). 48 What decree is said to have been issued by Caesar Augustus immediately preceding the birth of Christ? Luke: "That all the world should be taxed" (ii, 1). No such decree was issued by Augustus, nor even one that the Roman world should be taxed. The taxation of different provinces of the empire was made at various times, no general decree ever having been issued and no uniform assessment ever having been attempted by Augustus. An enrollment of Roman citizens for the purpose of taxation was made in Syria 7 A. D. 49 Of what king was Joseph a subject when Jesus was born? Matthew: Of Herod. If Jesus was born during the reign of Herod, Joseph, whether a resident of Judea or of Galilee, could not have been taxed by Augustus, for neither province was then a part of Syria. Both provinces belonged to Herod's kingdom and Herod's subjects were not taxed by the Roman government. 50 Of what province was Joseph a resident? Matthew: Of Judea. Luke: Of Galilee. If he was a resident of Galilee he could not have been taxed by Augustus, even in the time of Cyrenius, for Galilee was not a Roman province, but an independent state, and had no political connection with Syria. Again, this decree could not have applied to Judea prior to the banishment of Archelaus, ten years after the time of Herod; for Judea did not become a Roman province until that time; and while Archelaus had paid tribute to Rome the assessments of the people were made by him and not by Augustus. 51 Why was Joseph with his wife obliged to leave Galilee and go to Bethlehem of Judea to be enrolled? Luke: "Because he was of the house and lineage of David," and Bethlehem was the "city of David" (ii, 4). Even if he had been subject to taxation there was no law or custom requiring him to leave his own country and go to that of his ancestors to be enrolled. The assessment, according to the Roman custom, was made at the residence of the person taxed. Nothing surpasses in absurdity this story of Luke, that a woman, on the eve of confinement, and the subject of another ruler, was dragged across two provinces to be enrolled for taxation. In regard to this taxation Dr. Hooykaas says: "But here again we are met by overwhelming difficulties. In itself, the Evangelist's account of the manner in which the census was carried out is entirely incredible. Only fancy the indescribable confusion that would have arisen if every one, through the length and breadth of the land of the Jews, had left his abode to go and enroll himself in the city or village from which his family originally came, even supposing he knew where it was. The census under David was conducted after a very different fashion. But it is still more important to note that the Evangelist falls into the most extraordinary mistakes throughout. In the first place history is silent as to a census of the whole (Roman) world ever having been made at all. In the next place, though Quirinus [Cyrenius] certainly did make such a register in Judea and Samaria, it did not extend to Galilee; so that Joseph's household was not affected by it. Besides it did not take place till ten years after the death of Herod, when his son Archelaus was deposed by the Emperor, and the districts of Judea and Samaria were thrown into a Roman province. Under the reign of Herod nothing of the kind took place, nor was there any occasion for it. Finally, at the time of the birth of Jesus the governor of Syria was not Quirinus, but Quintus Sentius Saturninus" (Bible for Learners, vol. iii, pp. 55, 56). 52 Was Jesus born in a house or in a stable? Matthew: "And when they were come into the house, they saw the young child with Mary his mother" (ii, 11). Luke: "And she brought forth her first born son, and wrapped him in swaddling clothes, and laid him in a manger" (ii, 7). Nothing can be clearer than that the author of Matthew supposes that Jesus was born in a house. The author of Luke, on the other hand, expressly declares that he was born in a stable. Luke's story concerning the place of Mary's accouchement has been received, while that of Matthew has been ignored. Christ's birth in a manger and death on the cross are the lodestones that have attracted the sympathies of the world, and kept him on the throne of Christendom; for sentiment rather than reason dominates mankind. Referring to Luke's story, the "Bible for Learners" says: "Such is the well-known story of the birth of Jesus, one of the sweetest and most deeply significant of all the legends of the Bible. That it is a legend, without even the smallest historical foundation, we must, of course, admit" (vol. iii, p. 54). Justin Martyr states that Jesus was born in a cave, and this statement Farrar is disposed to accept: "Justin Martyr, the Apologist, who, from his birth at Shechem, was familiar with Palestine, and who lived less than a century after the time of our Lord, places the scene of the nativity in a cave. This is, indeed, the ancient and constant tradition both of the Eastern and the Western churches, and it is one of the few to which, though unrecorded in the Gospel history, we may attach a reasonable probability" (Life of Christ, p. 3). 53 Why did Joseph and his wife take shelter in a stable? Luke: "Because there was no room for them in the inn" (ii, 7). Luke states that there was an inn at Bethlehem. There was no inn in the place. Dr. Geikie says: "We must not moreover think of Joseph seeking an inn at Bethlehem, for inns were unknown among the Jews" (Christmas at Bethlehem). 54 What celestial phenomenon attended Christ's birth? Matthew: A new star appeared and stood in the heavens above him (ii, 1-9). Luke: An angelic choir appeared and sang praises to God (ii, 13, 14). Matthew's story of the star and the Magi, even to the language itself, was borrowed from the writings of the Persians; Luke's story of the celestial visitants was taken from Pagan mythology. 55 Who visited him after his birth? Matthew: Wise men from the East (ii, 1-11). Luke: Shepherds from a neighboring field (ii, 8-20). Matthew makes no mention of the shepherds' visit; Luke is evidently ignorant of the visit of the wise men. 56 From where did the wise men come? Matthew: "Now when Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judea in the days of Herod the king, behold, there came wise men from the East to Jerusalem, saying: Where is he that is born King of the Jews? for we have seen his star in the East, and are come to worship him" (ii, 1, 2). By the "East" was meant Persia or India, and from one of these countries the Magi are popularly supposed to have come. Justin Martyr says: "When a star rose in heaven at the time of his birth, as is recorded in the 'Memoirs' of his Apostles, the Magi from Arabia, recognizing the sign by this, came and worshiped him" (Dialogues, cvi). If they came from Arabia, as this Christian father declares, they came not from the East, but from the South. 57 What announcement did the angel make to the shepherds? "For behold I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people" (Luke ii, 10). According to Luke the visit of the angels is to proclaim to the world the birth of the new-born Messiah. Had the celestial phenomenon reported by this Evangelist really occurred the news of it would have quickly spread over Palestine. Yet the people of Jerusalem, only a few miles away, learn nothing of it; for, according to Matthew, the first intimation that Herod has of Christ's birth is from the wise men who visit him at a much later period. The inhabitants of Bethlehem themselves are ignorant of it. Could they have discovered to Herod this wonderful babe, or the place where his parents abode while there if they had departed, it would have saved their own children from the wrath of this monarch. But they knew nothing of him. 58 What effect had the announcement of Christ's birth upon Herod and the people of Jerusalem? Matthew: "When Herod the king had heard these things, he was troubled, and all Jerusalem with him" (ii, 3). According to Matthew the announcement filled with alarm the entire populace, and the most diligent efforts were made to discover and destroy the babe. In strange contrast to this statement of Matthew is Luke's narrative (ii, 22-27), which declares that Jesus, when forty days old, was brought to Jerusalem and publicly exhibited in Herod's own temple, without exciting any alarm or provoking any hostility. 59 What did his parents do with him? Matthew: They fled with him into Egypt (ii, 13, 15). Luke: They remained with him in Palestine (ii, 22-52). "All attempts to reconcile these two contradictory statements, seem only elaborate efforts of art."--Dr. Schleiermacher. 60 When unable to discover Jesus what did Herod do? Matthew: "Then Herod, when he saw that he was mocked of the wise men, was exceeding wroth, and sent forth, and slew all the children that were in Bethlehem, and in all the coasts thereof, from two years old and under" (ii, 16). If this statement be true hundreds of innocent babes (the Greek Calendar says fourteen thousand) must have perished, a crime the enormity of which is almost without a parallel in the annals of history. It is strange that Mark, Luke, and John make no mention of this frightful tragedy. Luke's silence is especially significant. It is passing strange that the Roman historians and Rabbinical writers of that age, who wrote of Herod, should be silent regarding it. Josephus devotes nearly forty chapters to the life of Herod. He narrates with much particularity every important event in his life. He detested this monarch and dwells upon his crimes and errors. Yet Josephus knew nothing of this massacre. In this silence of Josephus Dr. Farrar recognizes a difficulty too damaging to ignore. He says: "Why then, it has been asked, does Josephus make no mention of so infamous an atrocity? Perhaps because it was performed so secretly that he did not even know of it. Perhaps because, in those terrible days, the murder of a score of children, in consequence of a transient suspicion, would have been regarded as an item utterly insignificant in the list of Herod's murders. Perhaps because it was passed over in silence by Nikolaus of Damascus, who, writing in the true spirit of those Hellenizing courtiers, who wanted to make a political Messiah out of a corrupt and blood-stained usurper, magnified all his patron's achievements, and concealed or palliated all his crimes. But the more probable reason is that Josephus, whom, in spite of all the immense literary debt which we owe to him, we can only regard as a renegade and a sycophant, did not choose to make any allusion to facts which were even remotely connected with the life of Christ" (Life of Christ, pp. 22, 23). A more absurd reason than the first advanced by Farrar it is difficult to conceive. The second, that it was a matter of too little consequence to record, an explanation which other Christian apologists have assigned, is as unreasonable as it is heartless. The silence of Nikolaus, who wrote of Herod after his death, is also significant, and the excuse offered by Farrar that he omitted it because he was the friend of Herod, even if admitted, cannot apply to Josephus, who abhorred the memory of this monarch. The contention that Josephus purposely ignored the existence of Christ because he saw in him a menace to his faith is childish. Jesus Christ, admitting his existence, had made no history to record. His birth was attended by no prodigies, and there was nothing in his advent to excite the fear or envy of a king. Josephus mentions no Herodian massacre at Bethlehem because none occurred. Had Herod slain a single child in the manner stated the fact would be attested by a score of authors whose writings are extant. Herod did not slay one babe. This story is false. Herod's massacre of the infants of Bethlehem and the escape of Jesus was probably suggested by Kansa's massacre of the infants of Matura and the escape of Krishna. Pharaoh's slaughter of the first born in Egypt may also have suggested it. 61 What was the real cause of Herod's massacre? Matthew: The visit of the wise men and the disclosures made by them (ii, 1-16). These wise men, it is claimed, were under divine guidance. In view of this terrible slaughter their visit must be regarded as a divine blunder. 62 In the massacre of the innocents what prophecy was fulfilled? Matthew: "Then was fulfilled that which was spoken by Jeremy the prophet, saying, In Rama was there a voice heard, lamentation, and weeping, and great mourning, Rachel weeping for her children, and would not be comforted, because they are not" (ii, 17, 18). This so-called prophecy is in Jeremiah xxxi, 15. It was written at the time of the Babylonian captivity and refers to the captive Jews. In the next verse Jeremiah says: "They shall come again from the land of the enemy." 63 When Herod died what did the Lord command Joseph to do? "Arise, and take the young child and his mother and go into the land of Israel, for they are dead which sought the young child's life" (Matthew ii, 20). "And the Lord said unto Moses in Midian, Go, return to Egypt: for all the men are dead which sought thy life" (Exodus iv, 19). 64 The sojourn of Joseph and Mary with Jesus in Egypt was in fulfillment of what prophecy? Matthew: That "spoken of the Lord by the prophet, saying, Out of Egypt have I called my son" (ii, 15). This may be found in Hosea xi, 1, and clearly refers to the exodus of the Israelites from Egypt. 65 Jesus was subsequently taken to Nazareth. Why? Matthew: "That it might be fulfilled which was spoken by the prophet, He shall be called a Nazarene" (ii, 23). The Bible contains no such prophecy. Fleetwood admits that "the words are not to be found" in "the prophetical writings," and Farrar says, "It is well known that no such passage occurs in any extant prophecy" (Life of Christ, p. 33). The only passage to which the above can refer is Judges xiii, 5. Here the child referred to was not to be called a Nazarene, but a Nazarite, and Matthew knew that "Nazarene" and "Nazarite" were no more synonymous than "Jew" and "priest." A Nazarene was a native of Nazareth; a Nazarite was one consecrated to the service of the Lord. Matthew likewise knew that this Nazarite referred to in Judges was Samson. 66 Had Joseph and Mary lived in Nazareth previous to the birth of Jesus? Luke: They had. Matthew: They had not. "And Joseph also went up from Galilee, out of the city of Nazareth, unto the city of David, which is called Bethlehem, ... to be taxed with Mary his espoused wife.... And when they had performed all things according to the law of the Lord, they returned into Galilee, to their own city Nazareth" (Luke ii, 4, 5, 39). "When he [Joseph] arose, he took the young child and his mother by night, and departed into Egypt: and was there until the death of Herod.... But when Herod was dead, ... he arose, and took the young child and his mother, and came into the land of Israel. And when he heard that Archelaus did reign in the room of his father Herod, he was afraid to go thither; notwithstanding, being warned of God in a dream, he turned aside into the parts of Galilee: and he came and dwelt in a city called Nazareth" (Matthew ii, 14-23). According to Luke their home was in Nazareth of Galilee; according to Matthew their home was in Bethlehem of Judea. Luke states that they merely visited Bethlehem to be enrolled for taxation and fulfill a certain Messianic prophecy. Matthew states that after the flight into Egypt and the death of Herod they were returning to Judea when fearing Archelaus they turned aside into Galilee to avoid this ruler and fulfill another Messianic prophecy. 67 How did the parents of Jesus receive the predictions of Simeon concerning him? Luke: "And Joseph and his mother marvelled at those things which were spoken of him" (ii, 33). Why should they marvel at the predictions of Simeon when long before they had been apprised of the same thing by the angel Gabriel? 68 Does the name "Joseph" belong in the text quoted above? It does not. The correct reading is: "And his father and his mother were marvelling at the things which were spoken concerning him." It declares Joseph to be the father of Jesus, and as this did not harmonize with the story of the miraculous conception the makers of our version substituted "Joseph" for "father." 69 What does Luke say regarding the infancy of John and Jesus? "And the child [John] grew and waxed strong in spirit" (i, 80). "And the child [Jesus] grew and waxed strong in spirit" (ii, 40). Between the growth of the man John and the growth of the God Jesus there is, according to the Evangelist, no difference, and the growth of each is identical with that of the demi-god Samson. 70 What custom did Jesus's parents observe? Luke: "His parents went to Jerusalem every year at the feast of the passover" (ii, 41). The preceding verse (40) shows that Luke means every year following the birth of Jesus. In the succeeding verse (42) it is clearly implied that Jesus always accompanied them. It is impossible to reconcile this statement of Luke, who evidently knows nothing of the enmity of Herod and Archelaus, with the statements of Matthew who declares them to have been his mortal enemies. 71 On one of these occasions where did they find him? Luke: "They found him in the temple, sitting in the midst of the doctors, both hearing them, and asking them questions" (ii, 46). Not until the time of Gamaliel, who lived as late as the middle of the first century, was a child allowed to sit in the presence of the rabbis. He was always required to stand, and those acquainted with the Jewish history of that age know that the rabbis were the most rigid sticklers for ecclesiastical formalities, the slightest breach of which was never tolerated. The author of the third Gospel is familiar with the later, but not with the earlier custom. 72 What was the medium of communication through which the will of Heaven was revealed to the participants in this drama? Matthew: A dream (i, 20; ii, 12, 13, 19, 22). Luke: An angel (i, 11, 26; ii, 9). In Matthew every message respecting the child Jesus is communicated by means of a dream; in Luke every announcement is made through the agency of an angel. Yet, after all, these Evangelists differ only in terms; for Luke's angels are created out of the same stuff that Matthew's dreams are made of, and the world is fast coming to a realization of the fact that this whole theological structure, founded on sleepers' dreams and angels' tales, is but "The baseless fabric of a vision." CHAPTER V. THE MINISTRY OF CHRIST. 73 When, and at what age, did Jesus begin his ministry? Luke: "In the fifteenth year of the reign of Tiberius Caesar" (iii, 1). "Jesus himself began to be about thirty years of age" (23). In the fifteenth year of Tiberius, who began his reign in August, 14 A. D., Jesus, according to Matthew, was at least thirty-three years of age; according to Luke, about twenty-two. Regarding this subject, Dr. Geikie writes as follows: "The age of Jesus at his entrance on his public work has been variously estimated. Ewald supposes that he was about thirty-four, fixing his birth three years before the death of Herod. Wieseler, on the contrary, believes him to have been in his thirty-first year, setting his birth a few months before Herod's death. Bunsen, Anger, Winer, Schurer, and Renan agree with this. Lichtenstein makes him thirty-two. Hausrath and Keim, on the other hand, think that he began his ministry in the year A. D. 34, but they do not give any supposed date for his birth, though if that of Ewald be taken as a medium he must have been forty years old, while, if Wieseler's date be preferred, he would only have been thirty-seven.... Amidst such difference, exactness is impossible" (Life of Christ, vol. i, pp. 455, 456). 74 John the Baptist is said to have been the person sent to announce the mission of Christ. Who was John the Baptist? Jesus: "This is Elias, which was for to come" (Matthew xi, 14). John: "And they asked him [John], what then? Art thou Elias? And he saith, I am not" (i, 21). A question of veracity between Jesus and John. 75 The advent of John was in fulfillment of what prophecy? Mark: "As it is written in the prophets, Behold I send my messenger before thy face, which shall prepare the way before thee" (i, 2). This passage is quoted from Malachi (iii, 1): God threatens to destroy the world, and says (iv, 5), "Behold I will send you Elijah the prophet before the coming of the great and dreadful day of the Lord." John expressly declared that he was not Elijah (Elias), and the destruction of the world did not follow his appearance. 76 What was predicted concerning John? "He shall be great in the sight of the Lord, and shall drink neither wine nor strong drink; and he shall be filled with the Holy Ghost, even from his mother's womb" (Luke i, 15). For the above Luke was indebted to the biographer of Samson. "Both [Samson and John] were to be consecrated to God from the womb, and the same diet was prescribed for both."--Strauss. 77 When the conception of John was announced what punishment was inflicted upon Zacharias for his doubt? Luke: "And the angel answering said unto him, I am Gabriel, that stand in the presence of God; ... And behold, thou shalt be dumb, and not able to speak, until the day that these things be performed" (i, 19, 20). This was evidently suggested by a passage in Daniel: "And when he [Gabriel] had spoken such words unto me, I set my face toward the ground, and I became dumb" (x, 15). 78 Where was John baptizing when he announced his mission to the Jews? John (New Ver.): "In Bethany beyond Jordan" (i, 28). Bethany was a suburb of Jerusalem and was not beyond Jordan. The Authorized Version reads "Bethabara," conceded to be an interpolation, regarding which Geikie says: "The most ancient MSS. read Bethany instead of Bethabara, but no site of that name is now known on the Jordan. Bethabara was introduced into the text by Origen" (Life of Christ, vol. i, p. 566). 79 How old was Jesus when John began his ministry? Luke: "About thirty years of age" (iii, 2, 3, 23). Matthew: "In those days [when Jesus' parents brought him out of Egypt and settled in Nazareth, he being then about two years of age] came John the Baptist, preaching in the wilderness of Judea" (ii, 19-23; iii, 1). Matthew, it is claimed, was written only ten or twenty years after Jesus' baptism. If so, the phrase "in those days" clearly implies that he was but a child when John began his ministry. If the phrase was intended to comprehend a period of thirty years this gospel, it must be admitted, was written at least one hundred years after the event described. 80 Were Jesus and John related? Luke: They were, their mothers being cousins (i, 36). Mary had visited the mother of John, and each was acquainted with the character of the other's child. John before his birth is declared to have recognized and acknowledged the divinity of the unborn Jesus (Luke i, 41-44). Yet, according to the Fourth Gospel, at the beginning of Jesus' ministry John said, "I know him not" (i, 33). 81 When Jesus desired John to baptize him, what did the latter do? Matthew: "John forbade him saying, I have need to be baptized of thee" (iii, 14). According to Matthew, John was not only acquainted with Jesus, but cognizant of his divine mission, which cannot be harmonized with his statement in the Fourth Gospel. Dr. Geikie admits that John and Jesus were strangers to each other. He says: "Though cousins, the Baptist and the Son of Mary had never seen each other" (Life of Christ, vol. i, p. 389). This is not only a rejection of Matthew's statement, but a repudiation of the first chapter of Luke, one of the most important chapters of the New Testament; for it is utterly impossible for reason to harmonize these alleged revelations concerning the miraculous conceptions and divine missions of John and Jesus to their parents and the fact that John remained for thirty years in absolute ignorance of Jesus' existence. 82 What did John say regarding Jesus? "He that cometh after me is mightier than I, whose shoes I am not worthy to bear" (Matthew iii, 11). "There cometh one mightier than I after me, the latchet of whose shoes I am not worthy to stoop down and unloose" (Mark i, 7). 83 What other testimony did he bear concerning Jesus? "And of his fulness have all we received" (John i, 16). This was uttered prior to the beginning of Jesus' ministry, and before he had been baptized with the Holy Ghost. At this time "his fulness" had not been received, and the words are an anachronism. 84 At Jesus' baptism there came a voice from heaven. To whom were its words addressed? Matthew: To those who stood by. "This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased" (iii, 17). Luke: To Jesus himself. "Thou art my beloved Son; in thee I am well pleased" (iii, 22). 85 John heard this voice from heaven; did he believe it? Matthew: He evidently did not; for he afterwards sent two of his disciples to ascertain if Jesus were the Christ. "Now when John had heard in prison the words of Christ, he sent two of his disciples, and said unto him, Art thou he that should come or do we look for another?" (xi, 2, 3). 86 Do all the Evangelists record Jesus' baptism by John? They do not. According to the Synoptics, John's baptism of Jesus was the initial act in his ministry, and one of the most important events in his career. But of this baptism the author of the Fourth Gospel knows nothing. In regard to this omission the author of "Supernatural Religion" says: "According to the Synoptics, Jesus is baptized by John, and as he goes out of the water the Holy Ghost descends upon him like a dove. The Fourth Gospel knows nothing of the baptism, and makes John the Baptist narrate vaguely that he saw the Holy Ghost descend like a dove and rest upon Jesus, as a sign previously indicated to him by God by which to recognize the Lamb of God" (p. 681). 87 With what did John say Jesus would baptize? Mark and John: "He shall baptize you with the Holy Ghost" (Mark i, 8; John i, 33). Matthew and Luke: "He shall baptize you with the Holy Ghost, and with fire" (Matt. iii, 11; Luke iii, 16). 88 How many were baptized by John? Matthew and Mark: "Jerusalem and all Judea" (Matt. iii, 5; Mark i, 5). John, if the account in Josephus is to be credited, made some converts; but all the inhabitants of Judea were not baptized by him. Is John the Baptist a historical character? Aside from the anonymous and apocryphal writings of the church, which appeared in the second century, the only evidence of his existence is a passage in Josephus (Antiquities, B. xviii, ch. v, sec. 2). The language of this passage, while not avowedly Christian like the passage pertaining to Christ, is yet of such a character as to excite suspicion regarding its genuineness. Its position strongly suggests an interpolation. Josephus gives an account of the troubles that arose between Herod Antipas, tetrarch of Galilee, and Aretas, king of Arabia Petrea. Herod had married the daughter of Aretas; but becoming infatuated with Herodias, his sister-in-law, he resolved to put her away and marry Herodias. Discovering his intentions his wife obtained permission to visit her father, who when he had been informed of Herod's perfidy, made war upon him and defeated him in battle. Herod appealed to the Emperor Tiberius, who was his friend, and who ordered Vitellius, governor of Syria, to invade the dominions of Aretas and capture or slay him. I quote the concluding portion of section 1 and the opening sentence of section 3 of the chapter containing this history, separating the two with an ellipsis: "So Herod wrote about these affairs to Tiberius, who, being very angry at the attempt made by Aretas, wrote to Vitellius to make war upon him, and either to take him alive, and bring him in bonds, or to kill him, and send him his head. This was the charge that Tiberius gave to the president of Syria.... So Vitellius prepared to make war with Aretas, having with him two legions of armed men." It will be readily observed that the two sections are closely connected, the one naturally and logically following the other. Yet between these two closely connected sections, the section containing the account of John the Baptist is inserted. 89 Who held the office of high priest at the time Jesus began his ministry? Luke: "Annas and Caiaphas" (iii, 2). If the writer were to declare that Washington and Monroe were presidents of the United States at the same time it would be no more erroneous than the declaration of Luke that Annas and Caiaphas were high priests at the same time. Two priests never held this office jointly. Caiaphas was high priest at this time, and three others had held the office previous to him and subsequent to Annas. Referring to Pontius Pilate's predecessor, Gratus, who was procurator of Judea from 15 to 26 A. D., Josephus says: "This man deprived Ananus [Annas] of the high priesthood, and appointed Ishmael, the son of Phabi, to be high priest. He also deprived him in a little time, and ordained Eleazer, the son of Ananus, who had been high priest before, to be high priest; which office, when he had held for a year, Gratus deprived him of it, and gave the high priesthood to Simon, the son of Camithus, and, when he had possessed the dignity no longer than a year, Joseph Caiaphas was made his successor" (Antiquities B. xviii, ch. ii, sec. 2). 90 Who was tetrarch of Abilene at this time? Luke: Lysanias (iii, 1). Lysanias was put to death at the instigation of Cleopatra sixty years before Jesus began his ministry. "She [Cleopatra] hurried Antony on perpetually to deprive others of their dominions, and give them to her; and as she went over Syria with him, she contrived to get it into her possession; so he slew Lysanias" (Josephus, Antiq., B. xv, ch. iv, sec. 1). At the time mentioned by Luke the territory of Abila, or Abilene, was no longer a tetrarchy. 91 Where was Jesus three days after he began his ministry? Synoptics: In the wilderness fasting (Matt. iv, 1; Mark i, 9-13; Luke iv, 1). John: At a wedding in Cana, feasting (i, ii). 92 Was he led, or driven by the spirit into the wilderness? Matthew and Luke: "Then was Jesus led up of the spirit into the wilderness" (Matt. iv, 1; Luke iv, 1). Mark: "And immediately the spirit driveth him into the wilderness" (i, 12). 93 When did the temptation take place? Mark: During the forty days' fast. "And he was there in the wilderness forty days tempted of Satan" (i, 13). Matthew: After the fast. "And when he had fasted forty days and forty nights ... the tempter came to him" (iv, 2, 3). 94 During the temptation the devil is said to have set him on the temple. On what part of the temple did he set him? Matthew and Luke: "On a pinnacle" (Matt. iv, 5; Luke iv, 9). The indefinite article "a" clearly implies that the temple had several pinnacles, whereas it had but one. After eighteen hundred years the Holy Ghost discovered his mistake and moved the Oxford revisers to substitute "the" for "a." 95 What did the devil next do? Matthew: "The devil taketh him up into an exceeding high mountain, and sheweth him all the kingdoms of the world" (iv, 8). It must have been "an exceedingly high mountain" to have enabled him to see the kingdoms of the opposite hemisphere. 96 What did the devil propose? "All these things will I give thee [Jesus], if thou wilt fall down and worship me" (Matthew iv, 9). If Jesus was the Christ, and Christ was God, as claimed, who owned "these things," he or the devil? Think of a tramp offering you a quit-claim deed to your home for a meal. 97 Where did the devil take him first, to the temple, or to the mountain? Matthew: To the temple (iv, 5-8). Luke: To the mountain (iv, 5-9). Concerning this discrepancy, Farrar says: "The order of the temptation is given differently by St. Matthew and St. Luke, St. Matthew placing second the scene on the pinnacle of the temple, and St. Luke the vision of the kingdoms of the world. Both orders cannot be right" (Life of Christ, p. 70). Some of the ablest Christian scholars have refused to accept the Temptation as historical. Farrar says: "From Origen down to Schleiermacher some have regarded it as a vision or allegory--the symbolic description of a purely inward struggle; and even so literal a commentator as Calvin has embraced this view" (Ibid, p. 65). 98 Had John been cast into prison when Jesus began his ministry? Matthew: He had. John: He had not. Matthew says that immediately after his temptation, and before he began his ministry, "Jesus had heard that John was cast into prison" (iv, 12). Then "he departed into Galilee; and leaving Nazareth, he came and dwelt in Capernaum" (12, 13). "From that time Jesus began to preach" (17). This was the beginning of his ministry. According to the Fourth Gospel, Jesus had called his disciples; had traveled over Galilee and Judea; had baptized (iii, 22); had performed miracles (ii, 1-11, 23; iii, 2); had held controversies with the Jews (ii, 18-21; iii, 1-21); had attended the Passover (ii, 13-23); had purged the temple (ii, 13-16); and after all these things "John was not yet cast into prison" (iii, 24). 99 Name the Twelve Apostles. Matthew. Mark. Luke. Simon Peter Simon Peter Simon Peter Andrew Andrew Andrew James James James John John John Philip Philip Philip Bartholomew Bartholomew Bartholomew Thomas Thomas Thomas Matthew Matthew Matthew James Less James Less James Less LEBBEUS THADDEUS JUDAS Simon Simon Simon Judas Iscariot Judas Iscariot Judas Iscariot John does not name the Twelve Apostles and this important omission is admitted to be a grave defect in the Fourth Gospel. 100 Relate the circumstances attending the calling of Peter. Matthew: "And Jesus, walking by the sea of Galilee, saw two brethren, Simon called Peter, and Andrew his brother, casting a net into the sea: for they were fishers. And he saith unto them, Follow me, and I will make you fishers of men. And they straightway left their nets, and followed him" (iv, 18-20). Luke: "He [Jesus] stood by the lake of Gennesaret, and saw two ships standing by the lake; but the fishermen were gone out of them and were washing their nets. And he entered into one of the ships, which was Simon's, and prayed him that he would thrust out a little from the land. And he sat down and taught the people out of the ship. Now when he had left speaking, he said unto Simon, Launch out into the deep, and let down your nets for a draught" (v, 1-4). "And when they had this done they inclosed a great multitude of fishes" (6). "And Jesus said unto Simon, Fear not; from henceforth thou shalt catch men. And when they [Peter, James and John] had brought their ships to land, they forsook all, and followed him" (10, 11). John: "Again the next day after John stood, and two of his disciples; and looking upon Jesus as he walked, he saith, Behold the Lamb of God! And the two disciples heard him speak, and they followed Jesus" (i, 35-37). "They came and saw where he [Jesus] dwelt, and abode with him that day.... One of the two which heard John speak, and followed him, was Andrew, Simon Peter's brother. He first findeth his own brother Simon, and saith unto him, We have found the Messias.... And he brought him to Jesus" (40-42). Here are three accounts of the calling of Peter, each entirely at variance with the others. 101 In what country were they when Peter was called? Synoptics: In Galilee. John (Old Ver.): In Perea (i, 28-42). Bethabara and the territory beyond Jordan were in Perea. John (New Ver.): In Judea. Bethany and all the country surrounding it were in Judea. 102 Who did Jesus declare Peter to be? "Thou art Simon the son of Jona" (John i, 42). "Simon, son of Jonas" (John xxi, 15). "Thou art Simon the son of John" (John, New Ver., i, 42; xxi, 15). There is no relation whatever between "Jona," or "Jonas," and "John." Jona (Jonah), or Jonas, means a dove; John means the grace of God. 103 Jesus gave Simon (Peter) the name of Cephas. What meaning did he attach to the word Cephas? "Thou shalt be called Cephas, which is by interpretation, A stone" (John i, 42). "Thou shalt be called Cephas (which is by interpretation, Peter)" (Ibid, New Ver.). Here Jesus is represented as interpreting the meaning of an Aramaic word, with which his hearers were familiar, by the use of a Greek word of whose meaning they were ignorant, the incongruity of which must be apparent to every reader. 104 When were James and John called? Matthew: After Peter was called. After giving an account of the calling of Peter and Andrew, Matthew says: "And going on from thence, he saw other two brethren, James the son of Zebedee, and John his brother, in a ship with Zebedee their father, mending their nets; and he called them. And they immediately left the ship and their father, and followed him" (iv, 21, 22). Luke: At the time that Peter was called. Luke states that James and John were partners of Peter, and with him on the lake, in another boat, when the miraculous draught of fishes was made, that both boats were filled with the fish, "And when they [Peter, James and John] had brought their ships to land, they forsook all, and followed him" (v, 1-11). 105 Where was Jesus when he called Peter, James and John? Matthew: "Walking by the sea of Galilee" (iv, 18-21). Luke: On the lake in a ship (v, 1-11). In regard to Matthew's and Luke's accounts of the calling of Peter, James and John, Strauss says: "Neither will bear the other to precede, or to follow it--in short, they exclude each other" (Leben Jesu, p. 337). 106 Was Andrew called when Peter was called? Matthew and Mark: He was (Matt. iv, 18-20; Mark i, 16-18). According to Luke, Andrew was not called when Peter was called, but after he was called. According to John (i, 35-42) Andrew was the first to follow Jesus. 107 Who was called from the receipt of custom? Matthew: "A man named Matthew" (ix, 9). Luke: "A publican named Levi" (v, 27). Orthodox scholars claim that Matthew and Levi are the same person. Dr. Hooykaas does not believe that they are the same, and does not believe that any one of the Apostles was called from the receipt of custom. He says: "It is in reality very unlikely that Levi and Matthew are the same man, or that one of the Twelve was a tax-gatherer" (Bible for Learners, vol. iii, p. 201). 108 Who was the mother of James the Less and Joses? In the earlier parts of their narratives, Matthew (xiii, 55) and Mark (vi, 3) declare them to be sons of the Virgin Mary and brothers of Jesus. Paul (Gal. i, 19) affirms that James was the brother of Jesus. Later Matthew (xxvii, 56) and Mark (xv, 40) state that James and Joses were sons of Mary, the sister of the Virgin. 109 Who was their father? If they were sons of the Virgin Mary, Joseph must have been their father. But Matthew (x, 3) and Mark (iii, 18) state that James the Less was "the son of Alpheus." According to John (compare John xix, 25 with Matthew xxvii, 56) Cleophas was their father. Referring to this and the preceding discrepancy, Smith's "Bible Dictionary" says: "This is one of the most difficult questions in the Gospel history." 110 Were Matthew and James the Less brothers? It is not admitted that they were. Yet it is claimed that Matthew and Levi were the same; Mark (ii, 14) declares that Levi was "the son of Alpheus"; while both Matthew and Mark (Matt. x, 3; Mark iii, 18) declare that James was "the son of Alpheus." 111 To what city did John belong, and where was it located? John: "Bethsaida of Galilee" (xii, 21). John states that Peter was a resident of Bethsaida (i, 44), and as John and Peter were partners (Luke v, 10), they must have belonged to the same city. But Bethsaida was not in Galilee, but in Gaulonitis. Hence if John wrote the Gospel ascribed to him, he did not know the location of his own city. It is remarkable with what ease theologians harmonize the most discordant statements. In this case the only thing required was, in drawing the map of Palestine, to make two dots instead of one and write the word Bethsaida twice. 112 Who was the tenth apostle? Mark: Thaddeus (iii, 18). Matthew: "Lebbeus, whose surname was Thaddeus" (x, 3). In the earlier manuscripts of Matthew, the words, "whose surname was Thaddeus," are not to be found. Subsequent transcribers added them to reconcile his Gospel with Mark. 113 How many of the apostles bore the name of Judas? Matthew and Mark: But one (Matt. x, 1-4; Mark iii, 14-19). Luke: Two (vi, 16). 114 One of these was Judas Iscariot. Who was the other? Luke (Old Ver.): "The brother of James" (vi, 16). Luke (New Ver.): "The son of James." 115 Name the chief apostles. Synoptics: Peter, James and John. John: Peter and John. In the Synoptics, Peter, James and John constitute an inner circle or group who are with their master on every important occasion. In John this group is limited to Peter and John. 116 Who was Jesus' favorite apostle? Synoptics: Peter. John: John. From the Synoptics the conclusion is inevitable that if there was one disciple whom Jesus esteemed higher than the others it was Peter whom he is declared to have chosen for the head of his church. John, on the other hand, assuming that he wrote the Fourth Gospel, as claimed, takes frequent occasion to impress us with the idea that he was the bright particular star in the Apostolic galaxy. Four times (xiii, 23; xix, 26; xx, 2; xxi, 20) he declares himself to be "the disciple whom Jesus loved." If John wrote the Fourth Gospel this self-glorification proves him to have been a despicable egotist; if he did not write it the book is a forgery. The first assumption, if correct, impairs its credibility; the latter destroys its authenticity. 117 Is the Apostle James mentioned in John? He is not. This omission is the more remarkable when we remember that James was not only one of the chief apostles, but the brother of John. Respecting this omission, Strauss says: "Is it at all probable that the real John would so unbecomingly neglect the well-founded claims of his brother James to special notice? and is not such an omission rather indicative of a late Hellenistic author, who scarcely had heard the name of the brother so early martyred?" (Leben Jesu, p. 353.) 118 What other disciples besides the Twelve did Jesus send out? Luke: "After these things the Lord appointed other seventy also, and sent them two and two before his face into every city and place, whither he himself would come" (x, 1). In not one of the other twenty-six books of the New Testament is this important feature of Christ's ministry mentioned. The seventy elders of Moses doubtless suggested it. "And the Lord came down in a cloud, and spoke unto him [Moses], and took of the spirit that was upon him, and gave it unto the seventy elders" (Num. xi, 25). Seventy was a sacred number with the Jews and is of frequent occurrence in their writings. "And all the souls that came out of the loins of Jacob were seventy souls" (Ex. i, 5). Abimelech had "seventy brethren" (Jud. ix, 56). "Ahab had seventy sons" (2 K. x. 1). Isaiah prophesied that "Tyre shall be forgotten seventy years" (xxiii, 15). Jeremiah prophesied that the Jews were to "serve the king of Babylon seventy years" (xxv, 11). In Ezekiel's vision there stood before the idols of Israel "seventy men of the ancients of the house of Israel" (viii, 11). In Daniel's vision "seventy weeks are determined upon thy people and upon the holy city [Jerusalem]" (ix, 24). 119 What charge did Jesus make to his disciples? "Go not into the way of the Gentiles, and into any city of the Samaritans enter ye not" (Matt. x, 5). "Then cometh he [with his disciples] to a city of Samaria" (John iv, 5). "And he abode there two days" (40). 120 Did Jesus have a habitation of his own? Matthew: "And leaving Nazareth he came and dwelt in Capernaum" (iv, 13). Mark: "Jesus sat at meat in his [Jesus'] house" (ii, 15). Luke: "And Jesus said unto him, Foxes have holes, and birds of the air have nests; but the Son of man hath not where to lay his head" (ix, 58). 121 His residence in Capernaum was in fulfillment of what prophecy? Matthew: "The land of Zabulon, and the land of Nephthali, by way of the sea, beyond Jordan, Galilee of the Gentiles; the people which sat in darkness saw great light; and to them which sat in the region and shadow of death is light sprung up" (iv, 15, 16). The "prophecy" which Matthew pretends to quote is in Isaiah (ix, 1, 2), and reads as follows: "Nevertheless the dimness shall not be such as was in her vexation, when at the first he lightly afflicted the land of Zebulon, and the land of Naphtali, and afterwards did more grievously afflict her by way of the sea, beyond Jordan, in Galilee of the nations. The people that walked in darkness have seen a great light; they that dwell in the land of the shadow of death, upon them hath the light shined." Matthew both misquotes and misapplies this passage. He eliminates the facts and alters the language to make a Messianic prophecy. The words were not intended as a prophecy. The events mentioned by Isaiah had occurred when he wrote. The "great light," which they had already seen, referred to his own work in destroying witchcraft and idolatry. 122 Were Zebulon and Nephthali situated "beyond Jordan," as stated? They were not. "Beyond Jordan" means east of the Jordan, which formed the eastern boundary of Palestine. Zebulon and Nephthali were both situated west of the Jordan. 123 Were Peter, Andrew, James and John with Jesus when he taught in the synagogue at Capernaum? Mark: They were (i, 16-21). Luke: They were not; for they had not yet been called (iv, 31; v, 1-11). 124 Did Jesus perform many miracles in Galilee at the beginning of his ministry? Matthew: "And Jesus went about all Galilee, teaching in their synagogues, and preaching the gospel of the kingdom, and healing all manner of sickness and all manner of disease among the people. And his fame went throughout all Syria; and they brought unto him all sick people that were taken with divers diseases and torments, and those which were possessed with devils, and those which were lunatic, and those that had the palsy; and he healed them" (iv, 23, 24). Mark: "He healed many that were sick with divers diseases, and cast out many devils" (i, 34). Luke: "All they that had any sick with divers diseases brought them unto him; and he laid his hands on every one of them, and healed them. And devils also came out of many" (iv, 40, 41). John declares that his curing the nobleman's son (iv, 46-54), which was not until the second mission in Galilee, was the second miracle he performed there, his miracle at Cana being the only one he performed during the first period of his ministry. According to this Evangelist (iv, 45) all the notoriety he had at this time in Galilee, had been achieved, not by any miracles he had performed in that country, but through the reports of some Galileans who had seen his works at Jerusalem in Judea. In regard to these conflicting statements of the Evangelists, Farrar says: "At this point we are again met by difficulties in the chronology, which are not only serious, but to the certain solution of which there appears to be no clew" (Life of Christ, p. 124). 125 Did he perform any miracles before he called his disciples? Luke: He did (iv, 40, 41; v, 1-11). John: "And both Jesus was called, and his disciples, to the marriage [at Cana, where he turned the water into wine].... This beginning of miracles did Jesus in Cana" (ii, 1-11) Luke declares that he had performed many miracles before the first disciples were called; John declares that his disciples had been called and were with him when he performed his first miracle. 126 When was the miraculous draught of fishes made? Luke: At the beginning of his ministry (v, 6). John: Not until after his death and resurrection (xxi, 11). 127 What accident was caused by the enormous draught of fishes? Luke: "Their net brake" (v, 6). John: "For all there were so many, yet was not the net broken" (xxi, 11). In Luke and John we have two different versions of a Pythagorian legend. After comparing and noting the agreements and variations of the three versions of the legend, Strauss says: "If there be a mind that, not perceiving in the narratives we have compared the finger-marks of tradition, and hence the legendary character of these evangelical anecdotes, still leans to the historical interpretation, whether natural or supernatural; that mind must be alike ignorant of the true character both of legend and of history, of the natural and the supernatural" (Leben Jesu, p. 339). 128 How long did the Jews say it took to build the temple? "Forty and six years was this temple in building" (John ii, 20). One year and six months was this temple in building. Josephus (B. xv, ch. xi) gives a full account of the building of the temple. Of its commencement, he says: "And now Herod, in the eighteenth year of his reign, and after the acts already mentioned, undertook a very great work--that is, to build of himself the temple of God" (sec. 1). Concerning its completion, he says: "But the temple itself was built by the priests in a year and six months--upon which all the people were full of joy; and presently they returned thanks, in the first place, to God; and in the next place, for the alacrity the king had shown. They feasted and celebrated this rebuilding of the temple" (sec. 6). The building of the temple was begun in 19 B. C.; it was finished and dedicated in 17 B. C. 129 Where did Jesus deliver his so-called Sermon on the Mount? Matthew: "He went up into a mountain" (v, 1). Luke: "He came down with them, and stood in the plain" (vi, 17). Both Matthew and Luke represent him as being on a mountain; but while Matthew has him go up into the mountain to deliver his sermon, Luke has him come down out of the mountain to deliver it. In regard to this discrepancy, the Dutch theologian, Dr. Hooykaas, says: "The Evangelist [Matthew] had a special motive for fixing upon a mountain for this purpose. He intended to represent Jesus laying down the fundamental laws of the kingdom of heaven as the counterpart of Moses who promulgated the constitution of the Old Covenant from Mount Sinai. Luke, on the other hand, not wishing Jesus to be regarded as a second Moses, or another lawgiver, just as deliberately makes the Master deliver this discourse on a plain" (Bible for Learners, Vol. III, p. 141, 142). 130 Did he deliver his sermon sitting or standing? Matthew: "He was set" (v, 1). Luke: He "stood" (vi, 17). 131 Repeat the Beatitudes which are common to both Evangelists. "Blessed are the poor in spirit; for theirs is the kingdom of heaven" (Matthew v, 3). "Blessed be ye poor; for yours is the kingdom of God" (Luke vi, 20). "Blessed are they that mourn: for they shall be comforted" (Matthew). "Blessed are ye that weep now: for ye shall laugh" (Luke). "Blessed are they which do hunger and thirst after righteousness: for they shall be filled" (Matthew). "Blessed are ye which hunger now: for ye shall be filled" (Luke). "Blessed are ye, when men shall revile you, and persecute you, and shall say all manner of evil against you falsely, for my sake" (Matthew). "Blessed are ye, when men shall hate you, and when they shall separate you from their company, and shall reproach you, and cast out your name as evil for the Son of man's sake" (Luke). "Rejoice, and be exceeding glad: for great is your reward in heaven: for so persecuted they the prophets which were before you" (Matthew). "Rejoice ye in that day, and leap for joy: for, behold, your reward is great in heaven: for in like manner did their fathers unto the prophets" (Luke). The agreements between the two versions of this sermon, of which the foregoing are a part, are ample to prove them to be reports of the same discourse; while the variations are certainly sufficient to disprove the infallibility of the evangelistic reporters. Whether it be historical or fabricated--whether Jesus delivered the sermon or not--Matthew and Luke have given merely different versions of the same composition. The exordiums are the same; the perorations are the same--both end with the illustration of the men, one of whom built his house on a frail, the other on a firm foundation; the doctrines enunciated are substantially the same; while the words in which they are clothed proclaim a common origin. Matthew's version is longer than Luke's; either Matthew has added to, or Luke has taken from the original report of the sermon. 132 Repeat the Golden Rule. "All things whatsoever ye would that men should do to you, do ye even so to them: for this is the law and the prophets" (Matthew vii, 12; Luke vi, 31). Seventy years before Christ, Hillel, the Jewish rabbi, said: "Do not to others what you would not have them do to you. This is the substance of the law." Rabbi Hirsch says: "Before Jesus, the Golden Rule was one of the household sayings of Israel." 133 Repeat the Lord's Prayer. According to Matthew. Old Version. New Version. "Our Father which art in heaven, "Our Father which art in heaven, Hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom Hallowed be thy name. Thy come. Thy will be done in earth, as kingdom come. Thy will be done, it is in heaven. Give us this day as in heaven, so on earth. Give our daily bread. And forgive us our us this day our daily bread. And debts as we forgive our debtors. And forgive us our debts, as we also lead us not into temptation, but have forgiven our debtors. And deliver us from evil: For thine is bring us not into temptation, the kingdom, and the power, and the but deliver us from the evil glory, for ever. Amen" (vi, 9-13). one." According to Luke. Old Version. New Version. "Our Father which art in heaven, "Father, Hallowed be thy name. Hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom Thy kingdom come. Give us day come. Thy will be done, as in heaven, by day our daily bread. And so in earth. Give us day by day our forgive us our sins; for we daily bread. And forgive us our sins; ourselves also forgive every for we also forgive every one that is one that is indebted to us. And indebted to us. And lead us not into bring us not into temptation." temptation: but deliver us from evil" (xi, 2-4). The commonly accepted version of the Lord's Prayer is the Authorized Version of Matthew. This version is admitted to be grossly inaccurate. It contains sixty-six words. The Revised Version of Matthew contains but fifty-five. Twenty-four words either do not belong to the prayer, or have been misplaced; while words which do belong to it have been omitted. If the custodians of the Christian Scriptures have permitted the prayer of their Lord to be corrupted to this extent, what reliance can be placed upon the genuineness of the remainder of these writings? The Lord's Prayer, like so many more of the precepts and discourses ascribed to Jesus, is borrowed. Dr. Hardwicke, of England, says: "The so-called 'Lord's Prayer' was learned by the Messiah as the 'Kadish' from the Talmud." The Kadish, as translated by a Christian scholar, Rev. John Gregorie, is as follows: "Our Father which art in heaven, be gracious to us, O Lord, our God; hallowed be thy name, and let the remembrance of thee be glorified in heaven above and in the earth here below. Let thy kingdom reign over us now and forever. The holy men of old said, Remit and forgive unto all men whatsoever they have done against me. And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from the evil thing. For thine is the kingdom, and thou shalt reign in glory for ever and for evermore." The eminent Swiss theologian, Dr. Wetstein, says: "It is a curious fact that the Lord's Prayer may be constructed almost verbatim out of the Talmud." The Sermon on the Mount is derived largely from the teachings of the Essenes, a Jewish sect to which Jesus is believed by many to have belonged. 134 When and where was the Lord's Prayer delivered? Matthew: During his Sermon on the Mount, before the multitude. Luke: At a later period, before the disciples alone (xi, 1). 135 Was the Sermon on the Mount delivered before Matthew (Levi in Mark and Luke) was called from the receipt of custom? Matthew: It was (v, 7; ix, 9). Luke: It was not (v, 27; vi, 20). 136 When did Jesus cleanse the leper? Matthew: After the Sermon on the Mount (v, 1; viii, 1-4). Luke: Before the Sermon on the Mount (v, 12-14; vi, 20-49). 137 When did he cure Peter's mother-in-law? Matthew: After he cleansed the leper (viii, 2, 3; 14, 15). Mark and Luke: Before he cleansed the leper (Mark i, 29-31; 40-42; Luke iv, 38, 39; v, 12, 13). 138 Was this before or after Peter was called to the ministry? Luke: Before (iv, 38, 39; v, 10). Matthew and Mark: After (Matt. iv, 18, 19; viii, 14, 15; Mark i, 16, 17; 30, 31). 139 Were James and John with Jesus when he performed this cure? Mark: They were (i, 29). Luke: They were not. They had not yet been called (iv. 38, 39; v, 10, 11). 140 When was the centurion's servant healed? Matthew: Between the cleansing of the leper and the curing of Peter's mother-in-law (viii, 2-14). Luke: Not until after both these cures had been performed (iv, 38, 39; v, 12, 13; vii, 1-10). 141 Who came for Jesus? Matthew: The centurion came himself (viii, 5). Luke: The centurion did not come himself, but sent the Jewish elders for him (vii, 2-4). 142 Where was he when he performed this miracle? Matthew and Luke: In Capernaum (Matt. viii, 5; Luke vii, 1). John: In Cana (iv, 46). According to Matthew and Luke, Jesus was in Capernaum while the patient lived elsewhere; according to John, Jesus was in Cana while the patient lived in Capernaum. John says he was a nobleman's son, but all critics (as well as the Archbishop of York, in his "Harmony of the Gospels") agree that he refers to the same miracle. 143 When did he still the tempest? Matthew: Before Matthew was called from the receipt of custom (viii, 23-27; ix, 9). Mark: After Matthew (Levi) was called (ii, 14; iv, 35-41). 144 When did he cast out the devils that entered into the herd of swine? Matthew: Before Matthew was called to the ministry (viii, 28, 33; ix, 9). Mark and Luke: Not until after he was called (Mark ii, 14; v, 1-13; Luke v, 27; viii, 26-33). 145 How many were possessed with devils? Matthew: "There met him two possessed with devils coming out of the tombs" (viii, 28). Mark and Luke: "There met him out of the tombs a man with an unclean spirit" (Mark v, 2; Luke viii, 27). 146 When asked his name what did the demoniac answer? "My name is Legion" (Mark v, 9). Concerning this the Rev. Dr. Giles says: "The Four Gospels are written in Greek, and the word 'legion' is Latin; but in Galilee and Perea the people spoke neither Latin nor Greek, but Hebrew, or a dialect of it. The word 'legion' would be perfectly unintelligible to the disciples of Christ, and to almost everybody in the country" (Christian Records, p. 197). 147 How many swine were there? Mark: "They were about two thousand" (v, 13). If each hog received a devil there must have been two thousand devils. Legion must have been a very large man, or they were very little devils. 148 Where did this occur? Matthew: In "the country of the Gergesenes" (viii, 28). Mark and Luke: In "the country of the Gadarenes" (Mark v, 1; Luke viii, 26). It is generally conceded by orthodox critics that it occurred neither in the country of the Gergesenes nor in the country of the Gadarenes, but in the country of the Gerasenes. It could not have occurred in the country of the Gadarenes because it is said to have occurred on the sea shore and Gadara was situated several miles from the sea. Voltaire says the story is disproved by the fact that the event is alleged to have taken place in a country where no swine were kept. 149 Do the Evangelists all agree in regard to the expulsion of demons by Jesus? The Synoptics abound with these miracles: Matthew viii, 28-34; ix, 32-34; xv, 22-28; xvii, 14-21; Mark i, 21-28; v, 1-20; vii, 24-30; ix, 20-29; Luke iv, 31-37; viii, 26-39; ix, 37-42. John never mentions them. 150 What great miracle did Jesus perform at Nain? Luke: "Now when he came nigh to the gate of the city, behold, there was a dead man carried out, the only son of his mother, and she was a widow: and much people of the city was with her. And when the Lord saw her he had compassion on her, and said unto her, Weep not. And he came and touched the bier: and they that bare him stood still. And he said, Young man, I say unto thee, Arise. And he that was dead sat up, and began to speak. And he delivered him to his mother" (vii, 12-15). The other Evangelists were certainly ignorant of this miracle; for if they had known of it they could not have omitted it, as it is the most important miracle related by a Synoptist, and, with one exception, the most important of all Christ's miracles. A miracle almost identical with this is related of Apollonius. Referring to the two, Baur says: "As according to Luke, it was a young man, the only son of a widow, who was being carried out of the city; so, in Philostratus, it is a young maiden already betrothed, whose bier Apollonius meets. The command to set down the bier, the mere touch, and a few words, are sufficient here, as there, to bring the dead to life" (Apollonius of Tyana and Christ, p. 145). 151 In their accounts of his curing the paralytic what parenthetical clause is to be found in each of the Synoptics? "(Then saith he to the sick of the palsy)" (Matthew ix, 6; Mark ii, 10; Luke v, 24). As the clause is superfluous, this agreement, instead of furnishing proof of divine inspiration, tends to prove what has already been affirmed, that these books are not original, but copied, for the most part, from older documents. 152 What effect had the teachings of Jesus upon the people? Matthew: "They were astonished at his doctrine" (xxii, 33). Mark: "They were astonished at his doctrine" (i, 22). Luke: "They were astonished at his doctrine" (iv, 32). 153 What did he say to the people in regard to letting their light shine? "No man, when he hath lighted a candle, putteth it in a secret place, neither under a bushel, but on a candle stick" (Luke, Old Ver., xi, 33). "No man, when he hath lighted a lamp, putteth it in a cellar, neither under the bushel, but on the stand" (New Ver.). 154 What did he say concerning the way that leads to life? "Strait is the gate, and narrow is the way, which leadeth unto life" (Matthew, Old Ver., vii, 14). "Narrow is the gate, and straitened the way, that leadeth unto life" (New Ver.). The Old Version has a strait gate and a narrow way; the New Version a narrow gate and a strait way. 155 Quote the words which relate the calling of Peter. John: "He [Andrew] first findeth his own brother Simon, and saith unto him, We have found the Messias, which is being interpreted the Christ. "And he brought him to Jesus. And when Jesus beheld him, he said, Thou art Simon the son of Jona: thou shalt be called Cephas, which is by interpretation, A stone" (i, 41, 42). The last clause of each is an interpolation. 156 Where was John baptizing when Jesus and his disciples came into Judea? John: "In Aenon near to Salim" (iii, 22, 23). This is declared by nearly all critics to be a geographical error. No place corresponding to this existed in Judea. 157 What city of Samaria did Jesus visit? John: "Then cometh he to a city of Samaria which is called Sychar" (iv, 5). Samaria contained no city of this name. Bible commentators believe that Shechem is intended. 158 What did his disciples say to him when about to leave Bethany? "Master, the Jews of late sought to stone thee" (John xi, 8). The disciples were themselves Jews, and the above is not the language of a Jew speaking of his own people, but of a foreigner. 159 Where was he when he dined with publicans and sinners? Mark: At his own house. "As Jesus sat at meat in his house, many publicans and sinners sat also together with Jesus and his disciples" (ii. 15). Luke: At the house of Levi. "And Levi made him a great feast in his own house; and there was a great company of publicans and of others that sat down with them" (v, 29). 160 What did the Pharisees say to his disciples, because they, with Jesus, dined with publicans and sinners? "Why do ye eat and drink with publicans and sinners?" (Luke v, 30.) "Why eateth your master with publicans and sinners?" (Matthew ix, 11.) 161 Who inquired of Jesus the reason for his disciples not fasting? Matthew: "Then came to him the disciples of John, saying, Why do we and the Pharisees fast oft, but thy disciples fast not?" (ix, 14.) Luke: "And they [the scribes and Pharisees] said unto him, why do the disciples of John fast often, ... and likewise the disciples of the Pharisees; but thine eat and drink?" (v, 33.) 162 What did he say when reproved for plucking the ears of corn on the Sabbath? "Have ye never read what David did?... How he went into the house of God in the days of Abiathar, the high priest, and did eat the shew bread?" (Mark ii, 25, 26.) David did not do this "in the days of Abiathar," but in the days of Ahimelech. "Then came David to Nob to Ahimelech the priest.... So the priest gave him hallowed bread; for there was no bread there but the shew bread" (1 Sam. xxi, 1, 6). 163 What did he claim regarding Moses? "He [Moses] wrote of me" (John v, 46). The passage referred to is quoted in Acts iii, 22, and may be found in Deuteronomy xviii, 15. It alludes to Joshua, the successor of Moses. "The Lord thy God will raise up unto thee a prophet from the midst of thee, of thy brethren like unto me; unto him ye shall hearken." Had Jesus been omniscient he would have known that Moses did not write this; that it was not written until nearly 800 years after the time of Moses. 164 Jesus is credited with having raised the daughter of Jairus from the dead. Was she really dead? Matthew: Jairus said, "My daughter is even now dead" (ix, 18). Mark: He said, "My little daughter lieth at the point of death" (v, 23). Luke: It was reported that "she lay a dying" (viii, 42). According to Matthew, in this miracle he restored the dead to life; according to Mark and Luke, he merely healed the sick. 165 Who of Christ's disciples witnessed the raising of Jairus' daughter? Mark and Luke: Peter, James and John (Mark v, 37-40; Luke viii, 51). John, who alone of his alleged biographers is said to have witnessed this miracle, is the only one who fails to mention it. "A proper witness is silent, while an improper witness testifies."--Bishop Faustus. 166 What did Jesus say when sending out his Twelve Apostles? "He that receiveth you receiveth me, and he that receiveth me receiveth him that sent me" (Matthew x, 40; Luke x, 16). According to John (xiii, 20) these words were uttered not at the beginning of his ministry as stated by Matthew and Luke, but at the Last Supper; regarding which "Supernatural Religion" says: "It is clear that its insertion here is a mistake." 167 What command did he give them respecting the provision of staves? Matthew and Luke: They were not to provide themselves with staves. "Provide neither gold, nor silver, nor brass in your purses, nor scrip for your journey, neither two coats, neither shoes, nor yet staves" (Matt. x, 9, 10; Luke ix, 3). Mark: "Commanded them that they should take nothing for their journey, save a staff only" (vi, 8). 168 When the Samaritans refused to receive him what was said? Luke: "And when his disciples James and John saw this, they said, Lord, wilt thou that we command fire to come down from heaven, and consume them even as Elias did? "But he turned and rebuked them, and said, Ye know not what manner of spirit ye are of. "For the Son of man is not come to destroy men's lives, but to save them. And they went to another village" (ix, 54-56). It is conceded by the best Christian scholars that the words "as Elias did" and all that follow, excepting "he turned and rebuked them," are spurious. 169 What did Jesus say to the multitude concerning John the Baptist? "From the days of John the Baptist until now the kingdom of heaven suffereth violence" (Matthew xi, 12). The words, "from the days of John the Baptist until now," signify that a long period of time had elapsed since the days of John. Yet, on the very day that Jesus is said to have uttered them, he received a visit from the disciples of John, who was still living (Matthew xi, 2, 3). 170 Whose rejection of him provoked the declaration, "A prophet is not without honor, save in his own country"? Matthew: "And when he came into his own country [Galilee], he taught them in their synagogue, ... and they were offended in him. But Jesus said unto them, A prophet is not without honor, save in his own country" (xiii, 54-57). John: "He departed thence, [he had come from Judea and Samaria] and went into Galilee. For Jesus himself testified, that a prophet hath no honor in his own country. Then when he was come into Galilee, the Galileans received him" (iv, 43-45). According to Matthew, he was without honor in Galilee; according to John, he went to Galilee because he was without honor in Judea. According to Matthew the Galileans rejected him; according to John "the Galileans received him." According to Matthew, Galilee was "his own country"; according to John, Judea was "his own country." Regarding these contradictory statements, Scott, in his "English Life of Jesus" (p. 114), says: "The Synoptists in every case give a special reason for his leaving Galilee, while the fourth gospel is equally careful in specifying the reason for his leaving Jerusalem. According to the former, Jesus would not have left Galilee if he could have avoided it; according to the latter, he would have remained at Jerusalem if he could have done so with safety. The inconsistency is glaring." 171 When he came into his own country and taught in the synagogue what did the people say? Mark: "Is not this the carpenter?" (vi, 3.) Matthew: "Is not this the carpenter's son?" (xiii, 55.) 172 When Herod heard of his wonderful works, what did he say? "This is John the Baptist; he is risen from the dead" (Matthew xiv, 2). Here, early in Christ's ministry, the tetrarch of Galilee is represented as entertaining the Christian doctrine of a bodily resurrection. 173 When and for what reason was John beheaded? Matthew and Mark: "But when Herod's birthday was kept, the daughter of Herodias [Salome] danced before them, and pleased Herod. Whereupon he promised with an oath to give her whatsoever she would ask. And she, being before instructed of her mother, said, Give me here John Baptist's head in a charger. And the king was sorry: nevertheless for the oath's sake, and them which sat with him at meat, he commanded it to be given her. And he sent, and beheaded John in the prison. And his head was brought in a charger, and given to the damsel: and she brought it to her mother" (Matt. xiv, 6-11; Mark vi, 21-28). This account of the death of John is utterly at variance with that given in Josephus. This historian, assuming the passage relating to John to be genuine, says: "Herod, who feared lest the great influence John had over the people might put it into his power and inclination to raise rebellion (for they seemed to do anything he should advise), thought it best by putting him to death, to prevent any mischief he might cause, and not bring himself into difficulties, by sparing a man who might make him repent of it when it should be too late. Accordingly he was sent a prisoner, out of Herod's suspicious temper, to Macherus, the castle I before mentioned, and was there put to death" (Antiquities, B. xviii, ch. v, sec. 2). Macherus, where Josephus states that John was executed, was a place far removed from Herod's capital--was outside of his dominions--in Arabia Petrea. Referring to the Evangelistic account of John's death, Dr. Hooykaas says: "This eminently dramatic story certainly cannot be accepted as it stands. It betrays too much art in its striking contrasts between the manners of the court and the person of the prophet. We have already seen that the occasion of John's imprisonment is not correctly given by the Gospels. That such a man as Herod 'delighted in hearing' John is, to say the least, an exaggeration. The ghastly scene in which the prophet's head is carried into the festive hall may not be quite impossible in such an age and at such a court, but it is hardly probable. It is easy to see that Herodias is drawn after the model of Ahab's wife, who hated and persecuted the first Elijah; and Salome is evidently copied from Esther, for she, too, visits the prince by surprise, captivates him by her beauty, obtains a promise of anything up to the half of his kingdom, and at the festive board demands the death of her enemy as the royal boon" (Bible for Learners, vol. iii, p. 272). 174 Who was Herodias? Synoptics: "His [Herod's] brother Philip's wife" (Matt. xiv, 3; Mark vi, 17; Luke iii, 19). Herodias was a grand-daughter of Herod the Great, and married her uncle Herod, the disinherited son of Herod the Great. She subsequently married Antipas, the Herod who is said to have put John to death. Herod's brother Philip (Tetrarch of Trachonitis and Gaulonitis) was not the son of Marianne, as the first husband of Herodias was, but the son of Cleopatra. Philip's wife was Salome, the daughter of Herodias. The daughter of Herodias, instead of being a damsel dancing at the court of Herod, as the Synoptics declare, was at this time the wife of an aged ruler of a foreign province. According to Whiston, she became a widow in the very year in which John died. Herodias was not the wife, but the mother-in-law of Herod's brother Philip. Whiston, in his translation of Josephus, attempts to gloss over the Synoptics' error by inserting in brackets after Herod the word "Philip." Scribners' "Bible Dictionary" concedes the error and accounts for it "By supposing that there is a confusion between the first husband and the son-in-law of Herodias, for her daughter Salome married Philip the tetrarch." 175 What is said of the numbers baptized by Jesus and his disciples as compared with those baptized by John? John: "The Pharisees had heard that Jesus made and baptized more disciples than John. (Though Jesus himself baptized not, but his disciples.)" (iv, 1, 2.) Matthew (iii, 5) and Mark (i, 5) declare that John had baptized "Jerusalem and all Judea." It is admitted, both in the New Testament and by Christians, that Jesus made but few converts during his lifetime, and to assert or intimate that he and his disciples baptized more than John is preposterous. 176 Who furnished the loaves and fishes with which the multitude in the desert was fed? Synoptics: The disciples (Matt. xiv, 15-17; Mark vi, 35-38; Luke ix, 12, 13). John: "A lad" (vi, 9). 177 How many were fed? Mark: "And they that did eat of the loaves were about five thousand men" (vi, 44). Matthew: "And they that had eaten were about five thousand men, beside women and children" (xiv, 21). 178 Where did this miracle occur? Luke: "In a desert place belonging to the city called Bethsaida" (ix, 10). Mark says that after the miracle "He constrained his disciples to get into a ship, and to go to the other side before unto Bethsaida" (vi, 45). If the miracle was performed in a place belonging to the city of Bethsaida, as stated by Luke, they did not cross the sea to reach Bethsaida, as stated by Mark. 179 After feeding the five thousand what did Jesus do? Matthew and Mark: "He sent the multitudes away" (Matt. xiv, 22; Mark vi, 45). John: He did not send the multitude away, but withdrew himself into a mountain (vi, 15). 180 For what purpose did he go to the mountain? Matthew and Mark: "And when he had sent the multitudes away, he went up into a mountain, apart to pray" (Matt. xiv, 23; Mark vi, 46). John: "When Jesus therefore perceived that they [the multitude] would come and take him by force, to make him a king, he departed again into a mountain alone" (vi, 15). Matthew and Mark say nothing about the attempt to make him king; John says nothing about his praying. 181 Were his disciples with him? Matthew and Mark: "And straightway Jesus constrained his disciples to get into a ship, and to go before him unto the other side, while he sent the multitude away. And when he had sent the multitudes away, he went up into a mountain apart to pray; and when the evening was come, he was there alone. But the ship was now in the midst of the sea" (Matt. xiv, 22-24; Mark vi, 45-47). Luke: "And it came to pass, as he was alone praying, his disciples were with him" (ix, 18). Matthew and Mark send his disciples ahead in a ship to make room for his miracle of walking on the sea, a miracle that Luke knows nothing of. 182 To what port did he command his disciples to sail? Mark: "Unto Bethsaida" (vi, 45). Pursuant to this command toward what place did they steer? John: "Toward Capernaum" (vi, 17). Where did this bring them? Matthew: "Into the land of Gennesaret" (xiv, 34). 183 Jesus himself is said to have followed them on foot. Where did he overtake them? Matthew and Mark: "In the midst of the sea" (Matt. xiv, 24-26; Mark vi, 47, 48). John: As they were nearing the land (vi, 19-21). According to John, he walked entirely across the sea; according to Matthew and Mark, but half way across. Christ's walking on the sea was probably suggested by Job (ix, 8), who says God "treadeth upon the waves of the sea," or, according to the Septuagint, "walking upon the sea as upon a pavement." 184 What remarkable feat was attempted on the trip? Matthew: "And when Peter was come down out of the ship, he walked on the water, to go to Jesus. And when he saw the wind boisterous, he was afraid; and beginning to sink, he cried, saying, Lord save me. And immediately Jesus stretched forth his hand, and caught him" (Matt. xiv, 29-31). Mark and John, who relate with much particularity the events of this voyage, do not mention Peter's adventure. "Probably they had good reason for omitting it. A profane mind might make a jest of an apostle 'half seas over,' and ridicule an apostolic gate-keeper who couldn't keep his head above water."--Bradlaugh. 185 What did the Jews say to Jesus respecting his Messianic mission? "Search and look: for out of Galilee ariseth no prophet" (John vii, 52). Search and look; for out of Galilee arose some of their greatest prophets, Jonah, Hosea, Nahum and Elijah. It may be urged that it is the Jews who give expression to the error; but it is plain the Evangelist accepts the statement as true. 186 What notable incident occurred at Jerusalem? John: The release by Jesus of the woman taken in adultery (vii, 53; viii, 1-11). This is popularly regarded as one of the most admirable acts in Christ's ministry. In the New Version the twelve verses relating it are declared by the Oxford revisers to be an interpolation. 187 In the miracle of restoring the sight of the man born blind, what did he tell the man to do? "Go wash in the pool of Siloam" (John ix, 7). "The Lord sent the blind man to wash, not in, as our version has it, but at the pool of Siloam; for it was the clay from his eyes that was to be washed off."--Smith's Bible Dictionary. 188 What is the meaning of the word "Siloam"? John: "Which is by interpretation, 'Sent'" (ix, 7). Which is not by interpretation "sent," but "aqueduct." 189 Who provoked the displeasure of the Pharisees by eating with unwashed hands? Matthew and Mark: The disciples of Jesus (Matt. xv, 1, 2; Mark vii, 1, 2). Luke: Jesus himself (xi, 37, 38). 190 Of what nationality was the woman who desired Jesus to cast the devil out of her daughter? Matthew: "A woman of Canaan" (xv, 22). Mark: "The woman was a Greek" (vii, 26). 191 What did his disciples say when he expressed his intention of feeding the four thousand? Mark: "And his disciples answered him, From whence can a man satisfy these men with bread here in the wilderness? And he asked them, How many loaves have ye? And they said, Seven" (viii, 4, 5). Why should they be surprised at his intention of feeding four thousand with seven loaves when but a few weeks before he had fed five thousand with five loaves? In regard to this miracle Rev. William Sanday, of England, author of "Jesus Christ," the most important article in Scribners' "Bible Dictionary," says: "Are the two Feedings of Mark to be regarded as two events or one? Besides the general resemblance between the two narratives, a weighty argument in favor of the latter hypothesis is, that in the second narrative the disciples' question implies that the emergency was something new. They could hardly have put this question as they did if a similar event had happened only a few weeks before." This is also the opinion of Dr. Schleiermacher. 192 After feeding the four thousand where did he come? Matthew (Old Ver.): "Came into the coasts of Magdala" (xv, 39). Matthew (New Ver.): "Came into the borders of Magadan." 193 Where does Mark say he came? "Came into the parts of Dalmanutha (viii, 10). Criticising this statement, the "Bible for Learners" says: "Mark makes him journey still farther north, through the district of Sidon, and then turn southeast to the lake of Galilee, pass some way down its eastern shore apparently, and finally take ship and cross in a southwesterly direction to Dalmanutha, where we meet him once again. But the Evangelist's geography is open to suspicion, and we are inclined to lay these apparently purposeless wanderings of Jesus to the account of Mark's want of accuracy" (Vol. iii, p. 282). 194 What did he say to the Pharisees who asked for a sign? "There shall no sign be given unto this generation" (Mark viii, 12). "There shall no sign be given unto it, but the sign of the prophet Jonas" (Matthew xvi, 4). 195 On the way to Caesarea Philippi what remarkable discovery was made by Peter? Matthew: "He [Jesus] asked his disciples, saying, Whom do men say that I the Son of Man am? And they said, Some say that thou art John the Baptist: some Elias; and others, Jeremias, or one of the prophets. He saith unto them, But whom say ye that I am? And Simon Peter answered and said, Thou art the Christ, the Son of the living God. And Jesus answered and said unto him, Blessed art thou, Simon Bar-jona; for flesh and blood hath not revealed it unto thee, but my Father which is in heaven" (xvi, 13-17). According to Matthew, Jesus is astonished at the discovery of Peter and attributes it to a revelation from Heaven. Yet previous to this, and in the presence of Peter, according to the same writer, the other disciples had declared him to be "the Son of God" (Matthew xiv, 33). 196 The Synoptics all declare that the Messiahship of Jesus was not revealed to his disciples until late in his ministry. Is this true? John: It is not. It was known to them at the beginning of his ministry. Before Peter was called Andrew said, "We have found the Messias, which is, being interpreted, the Christ" (i, 41). On the following day Nathanael said to Jesus, "Thou art the Son of God; thou art the King of Israel" (49). 197 When did the Transfiguration take place? Matthew and Mark: Six days after the discourse in which he announced his second coming (Matt. xvii, 1; Mark ix, 2). Luke: "About an eight days after these sayings" (ix, 28). 198 Was the countenance of Jesus changed? Matthew and Luke: It was. "And his face did shine as the sun, and his raiment was white as the light" (Matt. xvii, 2). "The fashion of his countenance was altered, and his raiment was white and glistening" (Luke ix, 29). Mark: The appearance of his raiment only was changed. "And his raiment became shining, exceeding white as snow" (ix, 3). 199 When did Peter propose building the three tabernacles to Jesus, Moses and Elias? Matthew and Mark: While Moses and Elias were yet with them (Matt. xvii, 3, 4; Mark ix, 4-8). Luke: After they had departed (ix, 33). 200 What did the voice from the clouds declare? Mark and Luke: "This is my beloved Son; hear ye him" (Mark ix, 7; Luke ix, 35). Matthew: "This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased, hear ye him" (xvii, 5). Luke's account of the Transfiguration differs in many respects from that of Matthew and Mark. Luke says that Jesus went up into the mountain to pray; Matthew and Mark make no mention of this. Luke says the disciples were asleep when Moses and Elias appeared. According to Matthew and Mark they were awake. Luke says that Moses and Elias "spake of his decease." Matthew and Mark do not know what they talked about. 201 Who witnessed the Transfiguration? Synoptics: Peter, James and John (Matt. xvii, 1; Mark ix, 2; Luke ix, 28). It is remarkable that Matthew, Mark and Luke, who did not witness the Transfiguration, are the only ones to report it; while John, who is declared to have witnessed it, knows nothing about it. Concerning this and other events which John is said to have witnessed, Greg says: "All the events said to have been witnessed by John alone are omitted by John alone. This fact seems fatal either to the reality of the events in question or to the genuineness of the Fourth Gospel." Regarding this subject Scott says: "By some singular fatality the writer of the fourth gospel seems incapable of describing any one incident in the life of Jesus as the Synoptics have described it.... It is hard to believe that we are reading narratives which profess to relate the life of the same person.... If then in these particulars, the Synoptic Gospels are correct, the Johannine version of the events is pure fiction; and if the latter be taken as the true account, no dependence whatever can be placed upon the former" (Life of Jesus, pp. 259-263). 202 Compare the account of the Transfiguration of Jesus with the account of Moses at Mount Sinai. Matthew. Exodus. "And after six days Jesus taketh "Then went up Moses, and Aaron, Peter, James, and John his Nadab and Abihu" (xxiv, 9). brother, and bringeth them up into a high mountain apart, "And Moses went up into the mount, and a cloud covered the mount. "And was transfigured before them, and his face did shine as the sun, "And the glory of the Lord abode and his raiment was white as the upon Mount Sinai, and the cloud light" (xvii, 1, 2). covered it six days; and the seventh day he called unto Moses "While he yet spake, behold, a out of the midst of the cloud. bright cloud overshadowed them; and behold a voice out of the "And the sight of the glory of the cloud," etc. (5). Lord was like devouring fire" (15-17). We have in each account a prophet and three companions; in each the persons mentioned go up into a mountain; in each there is a supernatural brightness; in each an overshadowing cloud; in each a celestial voice speaking out of the cloud; in each Moses is a prominent figure; in each a period of six days is mentioned. 203 What occurred immediately after the Transfiguration? Matthew: "His disciples asked him, saying, Why then say the scribes that Elias must first come? And Jesus answered and said unto them, Elias truly shall first come, and restore all things. But I say unto you, that Elias is come already and they know him not.... Then the disciples understood that he spake unto them of John the Baptist" (xvii, 10-13). It is quite natural that the writing of one story concerning Elias should suggest another; but reason forbids the acceptance of both as true. If Elias was seen and recognized at the mountain, as stated, the above conversation did not follow that appearance. 204 What ailed the man's son whom Jesus cured after the Transfiguration? Matthew (Old Ver.): He was a lunatic (xvii, 15). Matthew (New Ver.): He was an epileptic. Mark: He had "a dumb spirit" (ix, 17). 205 When the authorities at Capernaum demanded tribute of Jesus what did he command Peter to do? "Go thou to the sea, and cast an hook, and take up the fish that first cometh up; and when thou hast opened his mouth, thou shalt find a piece of money; that take, and give unto them for me and thee" (Matthew xvii, 27). Matthew does not venture to say that Peter was successful, doubtless recognizing the fact that there ought to be limits even to a fish story. Regarding this story Archbishop Trench says: "It is remarkable, and is a solitary instance of the kind, that the issue of this bidding is not told us." Dr. Farrar says: "I agree with the learned and thoughtful Olshausen in regarding this as the most difficult to comprehend of all the gospel miracles" (Life of Christ, p. 288). 206 What was the nature of the tribute demanded? It was an annual tax, known as the temple service tax, a tax from which no Jew, rich or poor, was exempt. Regarding the time and manner of its collection, Farrar says: "On the 1st of Adar, the demand was made quietly and civilly; if, however, it had not been paid by the 25th, then it seems that the collectors of the contribution (tobhin shekalim) might take a security for it from the defaulter" (Life of Christ, p. 285). The tax was always collected in the early spring. Yet according to Matthew it was collected from Jesus in the autumn, just before the feast of tabernacles. Either Matthew was ignorant of the time of its collection, or Jesus was a defaulter. Nor is this the only difficulty needing explanation. It is assumed that Peter secured the coin in the manner directed. If so, how did it come into existence? Did Jesus miraculously create it? If so, he was a counterfeiter. Was it a lost coin? In this case, if he was omniscient, as claimed, he knew the owner and should have restored it. 207 After leaving Galilee where did Jesus go? Matthew: "Into the coasts of Judea beyond Jordan" (xix, 1). The Jordan being the eastern boundary of Judea, no "coasts of Judea" existed beyond it. 208 In going to Jerusalem to attend his last Passover, what route did he take? Luke: "He passed through the midst of Samaria" (xvii, 11). Mark: He "cometh into the coasts of Judea by the farther side of the Jordan" (x, 1). Two entirely different routes. As the province of Samaria lay between those of Galilee and Judea, the direct route from Galilee to Jerusalem was "through the midst of Samaria." The orthodox Jews, however, in order to avoid the Samaritans, whom they thoroughly despised, usually crossed the Jordan, which formed the boundary of the three provinces, came down on the east side of the river through Perea, recrossed the river, and thus entered "into the coasts of Judea from the farther side of Jordan." 209 What city did he pass through on his way to Jerusalem? Luke: "And Jesus entered and passed through Jericho" (xix, 1). Luke here contradicts his previous statement that "he passed through the midst of Samaria," for Jericho was not on the route from Samaria, but on the route from Perea by way of "the farther side of Jordan," the route which Mark declares he took. 210 What miracle did he perform on the way? Luke: "As he entered into a certain village, there met him ten men that were lepers, which stood afar off; and they lifted up their voices, and said, Jesus, Master, have mercy on us. And when he saw them, he said unto them, Go shew yourselves to the priests. And it came to pass, that, as they went, they were cleansed" (xvii, 12-14). The other Evangelists do not mention this miracle. Concerning it the "Bible for Learners" says: "It is an unsuccessful imitation of the account we have already examined of the healing of a leper. It is absolutely unhistorical" (Vol. iii, p. 310). 211 Was it one or two blind men that sat by the wayside beseeching him to heal them? Mark: "Blind Bartimeus, the son of Timeus, sat by the highway side begging. And when he heard that it was Jesus of Nazareth, he began to cry out, and say, Jesus, thou son of David, have mercy on me" (x, 46, 47). Luke: "A certain blind man sat by the wayside begging: ... And he cried, saying, Jesus, thou son of David, have mercy on me" (xviii, 35, 38). Matthew: "Two blind men sitting by the wayside, when they heard that Jesus passed by, cried out, saying, Have mercy on us, O Lord, thou son of David" (xx, 30). 212 What inquiry did the disciples make regarding the cause of the man's blindness? "Master, who did sin, this man, or his parents, that he was born blind?" (John ix, 2). Regarding this, Mrs. Evans, in her "Christ Myth" (p. 55), says: "Such a suggestion has no meaning when uttered by a Jew, but to a believer in the transmigration of souls the query would be natural and pertinent, and the story appears to be a modification of a well-known Buddhistic parable." 213 When did this occur? Luke: "As he was come nigh into Jericho" (xviii, 35). Matthew: "As they separated from Jericho" (xx, 29). Mark: "As he went out of Jericho" (x, 46). Mark agrees with Luke and disagrees with Matthew as to the number of men, and agrees with Matthew and disagrees with Luke as to the time of its occurrence. 214 What did Jesus say regarding divorce? Mark: "And he saith unto them, Whosoever shall put away his wife and marry another, committeth adultery against her. And if a woman shall put away her husband, and be married to another, she committeth adultery" (x, 11, 12). This was written by one acquainted with the Roman, but not with the Jewish law. The Jewish law did not recognize the right of a wife to put away her husband for any cause whatever. Matthew (v, 31, 32) and Luke (xvi, 18) knew better. 215 According to Mark he said, "Whosoever shall put away his wife, and marry another, committeth adultery." What did he say according to Matthew? "Whosoever shall put away his wife, except it be for fornication, and shall marry another, committeth adultery" (xix, 9). This is a notable discrepancy. According to Mark if a husband divorce his wife for any cause whatever he cannot lawfully marry another. According to Matthew if he divorce his wife for fornication he can lawfully marry again. 216 In his conversation with the rich man what commandments did he prescribe? "Do not commit adultery, Do not kill, Do not steal, Do not bear false witness, Honor thy father and thy mother" (Luke xviii, 20). "Do not commit adultery, Do not kill, Do not steal, Do not bear false witness, Defraud not, Honor thy father and thy mother" (Mark x, 19). "Thou shalt do no murder, Thou shalt not commit adultery, Thou shalt not steal, Thou shalt not bear false witness, Honor thy father and thy mother; and, Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself" (Matthew xix, 18, 19). No two of the Synoptics agree. Mark and Matthew each give a commandment not given by either of the others. 217 What great miracle did he perform at Bethany? John: The raising of Lazarus from the dead. "Then said Jesus unto them plainly, Lazarus is dead" (xi, 14). "Jesus therefore again groaning in himself cometh to the grave. It was a cave, and a stone lay upon it. Jesus said, Take ye away the stone. Martha, the sister of him that was dead, saith unto him, Lord, by this time he stinketh; for he hath been dead four days" (38, 39). "Then they took away the stone from the place where the dead was laid. And Jesus lifted up his eyes, and said, Father, I thank thee that thou hast heard me" (41). "And when he thus had spoken, he cried with a loud voice, Lazarus, come forth. And he that was dead came forth, bound hand and foot with grave clothes" (43, 44). The Synoptics make no mention of this miracle; and as it is the greatest miracle ascribed to Jesus it was certainly unknown to them. Commenting on the doubtful character of alleged events narrated by one Evangelist and omitted by the others, Strauss says: "But this ground of doubt falls with incomparably greater weight, on the narrative of the resurrection of Lazarus in the fourth gospel. If the authors or collectors of the three first gospels knew of this, they could not, for more than one reason, avoid introducing it into their writings. For, first, of all the resuscitations effected by Jesus, nay, of all his miracles, this resurrection of Lazarus, if not the most wonderful, is yet the one in which the marvelous presents itself the most obviously and strikingly, and which, therefore, if its historical reality can be established, is a preeminently strong proof of the extraordinary endowments of Jesus as a divine messenger; whence the evangelists, although they had related one or two other instances of the kind, could not think it superfluous to add this also. But, secondly, the resurrection of Lazarus had, according to the representation of John, a direct influence in the development of the fate of Jesus; for we learn from xi, 47 ff., that the increased resort to Jesus, and the credit which this event procured him, led to that consultation of the Sanhedrim in which the sanguinary counsel of Caiaphas was given and approved. Thus the event had a double importance--pragmatical as well as dogmatical; consequently, the synoptical writers could not have failed to narrate it, had it been within their knowledge" (Leben Jesu, p. 548). Referring to this miracle and the restoration of the sight of the man born blind, Prof. Newman says: "That the three first narrators should have been ignorant of them is simply impossible; that they should not have felt their preeminent value is incredible" (Religion not History, p. 27). There are three alleged instances in the Gospels of Christ restoring the dead to life. 1. The raising of the daughter of Jairus from her death bed, related by Matthew. 2. The raising of the son of the widow of Nain from his bier as they were carrying him to the grave, related by Luke. 3. The raising of Lazarus from his grave after he had lain four days, related by John. Even if these miracles were possible one fact disproves them: the silence of the other Evangelists. Of these three stories not one is confirmed by another Evangelist. His less important miracles, such as healing the sick, are, many of them, recorded in all of the gospels, or at least in all of the Synoptics; yet each of these, his greatest miracles, stands alone, unnoticed by the other writers. Mark and Luke mention the daughter of Jairus, but only to deny the miracle by declaring that she was not dead. Had these miracles really been performed, all of the Evangelists would have had a knowledge of them, and all would have recorded them. These writers do not complement each other, as claimed: they exclude each other. There are many Lives of Napoleon; but not one of his biographers has seen fit to omit his greatest victories because some other biographer has narrated them. 218 Who was it requested that James and John might sit, one on the right and the other on the left hand of Jesus in his kingdom? Matthew: "She [their mother] said unto him, Grant that these my two sons may sit, the one on thy right hand, and the other on the left, in thy kingdom" (xx, 21). Mark: "They [James and John] said unto him, Grant unto us that we may sit, one on thy right hand, and the other on thy left, in thy glory" (x, 37). 219 Who occupies a seat at the left hand of Jesus? Mark: God (xvi, 19). The modesty of the foregoing request is apparent. Zebedee's family were evidently trying to play a sharp game on Jesus, and get a first mortgage on his Father's throne. 220 What did Jesus affirm in regard to the mustard seed? "Which indeed is the least of all seeds; but when it is grown is the greatest among the herbs" (Matthew xiii, 32). A mustard seed is not "the least of all seeds;" neither is the plant "the greatest among herbs." 221 With faith as large as a grain of mustard seed, what did he say his disciples could do? "If ye have faith as a grain of mustard seed, ye shall say unto this mountain, Remove hence to yonder place and it shall remove" (Matthew xvii, 20). "If ye had faith as a grain of mustard seed, ye might say unto this sycamine tree, Be thou plucked up by the root, and be thou planted in the sea; and it should obey you" (Luke xvii, 6). 222 In the parable of the Great Feast what was the character of the feast? Matthew: A wedding "dinner" (xxii, 4). Luke: "A great supper" (xiv, 16). 223 Whom did the giver of the feast send to invite the guests? Matthew: "His servants" (3). Luke: "His servant" (17). Such errors may be considered trivial and their notice captious; but infallible writings do not contain even trivial errors. 224 What befell the servants, or servant? Matthew: "And the remnant took his servants, and entreated them spitefully, and slew them" (6). Luke: The servant returned unharmed (21). 225 What did the giver of the feast declare respecting those who refused to attend? "That none of those men which were bidden shall taste my supper" (xiv, 24). As they had already declined to do so, the force of the interdiction is not apparent. 226 Relate the circumstances connected with the attendance of the guest who wore no wedding garment. Matthew: "Then saith he to his servants, The wedding is ready, but they which were bidden were not worthy. Go ye therefore into the highways, and as many as ye shall find, bid to the marriage.... And when the king came in to see the guests, he saw there a man which had not on a wedding garment; and he saith unto him, Friend, how camest thou in hither not having a wedding garment? And he was speechless" (xxii, 8-12). The relator of this incident, which is omitted by Luke, would have us suppose that the frequenters of the highways went clad in wedding garments. The parables of Jesus are declared to be perfect models of Literary composition, and filled with lessons of divine wisdom. A few of them possess some literary merit; but the most of them are faulty. They contain many questionable ethical teachings; they are illogically constructed; the imagery is unnatural, and the language crude. 227 In the parable of the Wicked Husbandmen did the owner of the vineyard send one servant, or more than one, each time to collect the rent? Mark and Luke: He sent but one (Mark xii, 2-5; Luke xx, 10-12). Matthew: He sent more than one (xxi, 33-36). 228 What happened to the servants? Matthew and Mark: Some of them were killed. Luke: They were beaten and sent away, but none were killed. 229 In the parable of the Talents how did the master apportion his money? Matthew: He gave to the first servant five talents, to the second two, to the third, one (xxv, 15). Luke: He gave to each one pound (xix, 13). 230 What was their gain? Matthew: Each doubled his money (16, 17). Luke: The first increased his tenfold, the second fivefold (16, 18). 231 What did the unprofitable servant do with the money entrusted to him? Matthew: He "digged in the earth, and hid his lord's money" (xxv, 18). Luke: He said, "Lord, behold, here is thy pound, which I have kept laid up in a napkin" (xix, 20). 232 What are the concluding words of Jesus in this parable? "For unto every one that hath shall be given: ... but from him that hath not shall be taken away even that which he hath. And cast ye the unprofitable servant into outer darkness: there shall be weeping and gnashing of teeth" (Matthew xxv, 29, 30). "That unto every one which hath shall be given; and from him that hath not, even that he hath shall be taken away from him. But those mine enemies, which would not that I should reign over them, bring hither, and slay them before me" (Luke xix, 26, 27). 233 In the lawyer's interview with Jesus, who was it, the lawyer, or Jesus, that stated the two great commandments? Matthew and Mark: Jesus. "Then one of them, which was a lawyer, asked him a question, tempting him, saying, Master which is the great commandment in the law? Jesus said unto him, Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy mind. This is the first and great commandment. And the second is like unto it, Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself" (xxii, 35-39). Luke: The lawyer. "And, behold, a certain lawyer stood up, and tempted him, saying, Master, what shall I do to inherit eternal life? He said unto him, What is written in the law? how readest thou? And he [the lawyer] answering said, Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy strength, and with all thy mind; and thy neighbor as thyself" (x, 25-27). 234 "And after that they durst not ask him any questions." After what? Matthew: After his controversy with the Pharisees respecting David and Christ (xxii, 41-46). Mark: After his conversation with the scribe regarding the commandments (xii, 28-37). Luke: After confuting the Sadducees in regard to the resurrection (xx, 27-40). 235 Did his controversy concerning David and Christ take place with the Pharisees, as stated by Matthew? Luke: It did not. It was with "certain of the scribes" (xx, 39). 236 Where was Jesus on the day preceding his triumphal entry into Jerusalem? John: With Lazarus at Bethany (three miles from Jerusalem) (xii, 1-15). Luke: With Zaccheus near Jericho (twenty miles from Jerusalem) (xix, 1-40). 237 Preparatory to his triumphal entry what command did he give his disciples? "Go ye into the village over against you; in the which at your entering ye shall find a colt tied, whereon yet never man sat: loose him, and bring him hither" (Luke xix, 30). "Go into the village over against you, and straightway ye shall find an ass tied, and a colt with her: loose them, and bring them unto me" (Matthew xxi, 2). 238 Did he ride both animals? Matthew: He did. "And the disciples went, and did as Jesus commanded them, and brought the ass, and the colt, and put on them their clothes, and they set him thereon" (6, 7). The equestrian feat of his riding two asses, a large one and a small one, at the same time, must have heightened the effect of this sublime pageant. Matthew is continually seeing double. In the demoniac of Gadara he sees two demoniacs; in the blind man by the wayside he sees two men; and in other instances where the other Evangelists see but one person or thing he sees two. 239 The riding of two asses by Jesus was in fulfillment of what prophecy? Matthew: "And this was done, that it might be fulfilled which was spoken by the prophet, saying, Tell ye the daughter of Sion, Behold, thy King cometh unto thee, meek, and sitting upon an ass, and a colt the foal of an ass" (xxi, 4, 5). Matthew's rendering of this passage (Zechariah ix, 9) arises from a misunderstanding of the meaning of its words. The prophet, or poet, does not mean two asses, but one; the clause "a colt the foal of an ass," is merely a poetical repetition or qualification of the preceding clause. This blunder of Matthew is significant. It exposes the fictitious character of this so-called Gospel history. It proves that Christ's triumphal entry into Jerusalem is not a historical event--that this story is a pure fabrication, suggested by this alleged prophecy. 240 When did Jesus purge the temple? Synoptics: At the close of his ministry, a few days before his death (Matthew xxi, 12-16; Mark xi, 15-18; Luke xix, 45-48). John: At the beginning of his ministry, three years before his death (ii, 13-22). Origen doubted the occurrence of this event, believing it to be a mere allegory. 241 When did he curse the fig tree? Matthew: After he purged the temple (xxi, 12-19). Mark: Before he purged the temple (xi, 12-15). 242 When was the tree discovered by his disciples to be withered? Matthew: As soon as cursed (19). Mark: Not until the next morning (13-20). 243 Mark says that he visited the tree for the purpose of obtaining figs. Why did the tree contain no fruit? Mark: "Because the time of figs was not yet" (13). This was before the Passover which occurred in March or April. In that part of Palestine where the miracle is said to have been performed the bocore, or early fig, ripened its first crop during the latter part of June; while the kermus, or fig proper, ripened in August. What a spectacle! An omniscient God searching for figs in March, and disappointed at not finding them--creating a tree to bear fruit in the summer and cursing it for not bearing in the spring! 244 What did Jesus accuse the Jews of doing? Matthew: Of having slain prophets and wise men, among them "Zacharias son of Barachias" (xxiii, 35). The Zacharias mentioned was slain in Jerusalem, 69 A. D.; so that Matthew makes Jesus refer to an event that occurred forty years after his death. Referring to this passage, the Catholic scholar, Dr. Hug, says: "There cannot be a doubt, if we attend to the name, the fact and its circumstances, and the object of Jesus in citing it, that it was the same Zacharias Barouchos, who, according to Josephus, a short time before the destruction of Jerusalem, was unjustly slain in the temple." Commenting on this passage, Prof. Newman says: "There is no other man known in history to whom the verse can allude. If so, it shows how late, how ignorant, how rash, is the composer of a text passed off on us as sacred truth" (Religion not History, p. 46). 245 Repeat his lamentation concerning Jerusalem's rejection of him. "O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, thou that killest the prophets, and stonest them which are sent unto thee, how often would I have gathered thy children together, even as a hen gathereth her chickens under her wings, and ye would not!" (Matthew xxiii, 37; Luke xiii, 34.) Where was he when he uttered this lamentation? Matthew: During his visit at Jerusalem. Luke: In Galilee before he went to Jerusalem. Not only are these writers at variance with each other as to the time and place of utterance, but the lamentation itself, which declares that he had made repeated efforts to convert Jerusalem, is at variance with both of them. For according to Matthew he had just arrived on his first visit to Jerusalem, while according to Luke he had never yet, during his ministry, visited Jerusalem. 246 Who anointed Jesus? Matthew and Mark: "A woman" (Matt. xxvi, 7; Mark xiv, 3). Luke: "A sinful woman" (vii, 37). John: Mary, the sister of Lazarus (xii, 3). Luke's "sinful woman" is recognized as Mary Magdalene. Farrar says: "In the popular consciousness she will till the end of time be identified with the Magdalene." Matthew and Mark's "woman" may be harmonized with either Mary Magdalene or Mary the sister of Lazarus; but Luke and John are irreconcilable. 247 Where did she put the ointment? Matthew and Mark: On his head (Matt. xxvi, 7; Mark xiv, 3). Luke and John: On his feet (Luke vii, 38-46; John xii, 3). 248 Where did this occur? Matthew, Mark and John: In Bethany (Matt. xxvi, 6; Mark xiv, 3; John xii, 1). Luke: In Nain (vii, 11-37). 249 At whose house did it occur? Synoptics: At the house of Simon (Matt. xxvi, 6, 7; Mark xiv, 3; Luke vii, 36-40). John: At the house of Lazarus (xii, 1-3). 250 Who was Simon? Matthew and Mark: A leper (Matt. xxvi, 6; Mark xiv, 3). Luke: A Pharisee (vii, 39-40). 251 At what time during his ministry did this anointing occur? Matthew, Mark and John: At the close of his ministry (Matt. xxvi, xxvii; Mark xiv; John xii). Luke: Early in his ministry (vii, 36-50). 252 Did it occur before or after his triumphal entry? Matthew and Mark: After (Matt. xxi, 1-11, xxvi, 6-13; Mark xi, 1-11, xiv, 3-9). John: Before (xii, 1-15). 253 How many days before the Passover did it occur? Mark: Two days (xiv, 1-3). John: Six days (xii, 1-3). "The prima facie view would certainly be that the anointing at Bethany was placed by Mark two days and by John six days before the Passover."--Scribner's Bible Dictionary. 254 Who objected to this apparent waste of the ointment? Matthew: "His disciples" (xxvi, 8, 9). John: "Judas Iscariot" (xii, 4, 5). These different versions of the anointing of Jesus present so many discrepancies that some have supposed that two or more anointings were made. The Archbishop of York, the most popular of Gospel harmonists, concedes that but one anointing was made. After an exhaustive review of the case, Strauss says: "Without doubt, we have here but one history under three various forms; and this seems to have been the real conclusion of Origen, as well as recently of Schleiermacher." 255 While Jesus was at Jerusalem there came a voice from heaven. For what purpose was the voice sent? John: For the sake of those who stood by. "Jesus answered and said, This voice came not because of me, but for your sakes" (xii, 30). Of what benefit was the voice when those who heard it were unable to distinguish it from thunder? "The people therefore, that stood by and heard it, said that it thundered" (29). The Evangelists relate several instances of celestial voices being heard. As there is, in nearly every instance, a disagreement in regard to the message conveyed, it is probable that an electrical disturbance inspired the voice, while a vivid imagination interpreted its meaning. Regarding these voices, the Duke of Somerset says: "A belief in these heavenly voices was a common superstition among the Jews." 256 When did the Last Supper take place? Synoptics: On the Passover (Matt. xxvi, 18-20; Mark xiv, 16-18; Luke xxii, 13-15). John: On the day preceding the Passover. Luke says: "And they made ready the passover. And when the hour was come, he sat down, and the twelve apostles with him. And he said unto them, With desire I have desired to eat this passover with you before I suffer." John, in his account of the Last Supper, says it was "before the feast of the passover" (xiii, 1). The Evangelists all agree that his trial and execution took place on the day following the Last Supper. John says the Jews "went not into the judgment hall, lest they should be defiled; but that they might eat the passover" (xviii, 28). After narrating the events of the trial, John says: "And it was the preparation of the passover" (xix, 14). According to the Synoptics, the Last Supper was eaten on the 14th Nisan, and, by our mode of reckoning time, on Thursday evening; according to John, it was eaten on the 13th Nisan, and, by our mode of reckoning, on Wednesday evening. The Synoptics declare that this supper was the regular Paschal meal; according to John, it was an ordinary meal, the Paschal meal not being eaten until after Christ's death. "The Synoptics represent most clearly that Jesus on the evening of the 14th Nisan, after the custom of the Jews, ate the Passover with his disciples, and that he was arrested in the first hours of the 15th Nisan, the day on which he was put to death. Nothing can be more distinct than the statement that the last supper was the Paschal feast.... The fourth Gospel, however, in accordance with the principle which is dominant throughout, represents the last repast which Jesus eats with his disciples as a common supper, which takes place, not on the 14th, but on the 13th Nisan, the day 'before the feast of the Passover.'"--Supernatural Religion. Thousands of pages have been written in vain attempts to reconcile this grave discrepancy. Scribner's "Bible Dictionary," which contains the best fruits of orthodox scholarship, both of England and America, concedes a contradiction. It says: "The Synoptics seem to identify the two [the Last Supper and the Paschal meal], whereas St. John expressly places the Last Supper before the Passover." After an exhaustive review of the subject, Strauss voices the conclusion of German scholars in the following words: "Our only course is to acknowledge an irreconcilable contradiction between the respective accounts, without venturing a decision as to which is the correct one" (Leben Jesu, p. 702). 257 The Synoptics state that the Last Supper was the Paschal meal. Describe the Paschal meal. "All leaning upon the cushions around the table, the first cup of wine was served, and grace pronounced over the same and the feast. This cup of wine being disposed of, vegetables and sauce were placed on the table, and the vegetables, dipped in the sauce, were blessed and eaten. Next the unleavened bread, the bitter herb, and a piquant sauce called Haroseth were served, and the bitter herb, dipped in the Haroseth, was blessed and eaten. Then the Paschal lamb was placed on the table with portions of another sacrifice. One of the company asked the question why all this was done, during which the second cup of wine was served. The head of the table explaining narrated the story of the Exodus, closed with a hymn, spoke the second time grace over the wine, and all disposed of the same. Now came the breaking of the bread and the eating and drinking. This finished, the third cup of wine was served, and grace after meal was pronounced. After which the fourth cup was served, and the ceremonies closed with hymns and psalms, and disposing of the fourth cup of wine" (Mishna). This was the Paschal meal as it was observed in the reputed time of Christ and up to 70 A. D. After the fall of Jerusalem and the destruction of the temple the great Passover feast retained but the shadow of its former glory. The Paschal meal and the ceremonies attending it were generally shortened. The fact that the Evangelists were unacquainted with the regular Paschal meal, that the Synoptics were familiar only with the ceremonies of later times, shows that the Last Supper is a myth, and the Gospels the products of a later age. Criticising the Synoptics' accounts of the Paschal meal, Dr. Isaac Wise, an able Jewish scholar, says: "If any evidence is required that neither Mark nor Matthew had ever seen the Paschal meal, or described that of Jesus, it is furnished here. They do not mention any one point connected with the Paschal supper, the ceremonies of which were established. They mention only one ceremony, viz., the breaking of the bread, and the cup of wine after the meal, which is not only a mistake, but shows conclusively, that either of them had seen the Paschal supper, after the destruction of Jerusalem, in some Jewish house, and the ceremonies connected therewith, called the Seder. Therefore, no mention whatsoever is made of the main thing--the Paschal lamb--and the bread is broken after the meal, which was done by the Jews after closing the Paschal meal, outside of Jerusalem, when the altar had been destroyed; and no Paschal lamb was eaten" (Martyrdom of Jesus, pp. 36, 37). "Luke begins correctly, but makes a mistake in having the bread broken right after the first cup of wine was handed round, which was done so at every festive meal, except at the one described, and has but two cups of wine instead of four. So we know that Luke did not describe what actually happened that evening. He had seen the Jewish custom of opening the festive meals with grace over the wine and bread, and made of it an introduction to the Last Supper, without knowing that just that evening the custom was changed" (Ibid. p. 38). 258 What ceremony was instituted at the Last Supper? Synoptics: The Eucharist (Matt. xxvi, 26-28; Mark xiv, 22-24; Luke xxii, 19, 20). John: The washing of feet (xiii, 4-9). John does not mention the former ceremony, and the Synoptics do not mention the latter; yet each is said to have been performed immediately after supper. 259 He told his disciples that he would no more drink of the fruit of the vine until he drank it in his Father's kingdom. When was this? Matthew: After instituting the Eucharist. "And as they were eating, Jesus took bread, and blessed it, and brake it, and gave it to the disciples, and said, Take, eat; this is my body. And he took the cup and gave thanks, and gave it to them, saying, Drink ye all of it; for this is my blood of the new testament, which is shed for many for the remission of sins. "But I say unto you, I will not drink henceforth of this fruit of the vine, until that day when I drink it new with you in my Father's kingdom" (xxvi, 26-29). Luke: Before instituting the Eucharist. "For I say unto you, I will not drink of the fruit of the vine, until the kingdom of God shall come. "And he took bread, and gave thanks, and brake it, and gave unto them, saying, This is my body which is given for you: this do in remembrance of me. Likewise also the cup after supper, saying, This cup is the new testament in my blood, which is shed for you" (xxii, 18-20). 260 At the Last Supper did Jesus pass the cup once, or twice? Matthew and Mark: Once (Matt. xxvi, 26-30; Mark xiv, 16-26). Luke: Twice (xxii, 13-20). Regarding this discrepancy, Scribners' "Bible Dictionary" says: "The temptation to expand was much stronger than to contract; and the double mention of the cup raises real difficulties of the kind which suggest interpolation." 261 Where was Jesus when he uttered his last prayer? Synoptics: In the garden of Gethsemane (Matt. xxvi, 36-39; Mark xiv, 32-36; Luke xxii, 39-42). John: In Jerusalem before he retired to the garden (xvii, xviii, 1). 262 What is said of his agony at Gethsemane? Luke: "His sweat was as it were great drops of blood falling down to the ground" (xxii, 44). Whatever was the character of this so-called "bloody sweat," it may be remarked that Matthew, who was an apostle; Mark, who is claimed to be the interpreter of Peter, an apostle who was with Jesus at the time; and John who was not only an apostle, but present also, do not refer to it. Luke, who was not an eye-witness--who was not an apostle--is the only one who mentions it. 263 How many times did Jesus visit Jerusalem during his ministry? John: At least four times (ii, 13; v, 1; x, 22, 23; xii, 12). The Synoptics record but one visit. 264 To what country was his ministry chiefly confined? Synoptics: To Galilee. John: To Judea. According to the Synoptics nearly his entire ministry was confined to Galilee. It was only at the close of his ministry, a few days before his death, that he visited Judea to attend the Passover. According to John his ministry was confined chiefly to Judea. It requires but three or four of his twenty-one chapters to record his work in Galilee. Farrar says: "The Synoptists almost confine themselves to the Galilean, and St. John to the Judean ministry" (Life of Christ, p. 361). 265 How long did his ministry last? Synoptics: One year. John: At least three years. The Rev. Dr. Giles says: "According to the first three Gospels, Christ's public life lasted only one year" (Christian Records, p. 11). Referring to this and the preceding discrepancy, the author of "Supernatural Religion" says: "The Synoptics clearly represent the ministry of Jesus as having been limited to a single year, and his preaching is confined to Galilee and Jerusalem, where his career culminates at the fatal Passover. The fourth Gospel distributes the teaching of Jesus between Galilee, Samaria, and Jerusalem, makes it extend over at least three years, and refers to three Passovers spent by Jesus at Jerusalem" (p. 681). Irenaeus, the greatest of the early Christian Fathers, and who lived in the century following Jesus, declares that his ministry lasted twenty years. In his principal work, "Against Heresies," he combats the heresy of a one-year ministry of Jesus. He says: "They however, that they may establish their false opinion regarding that which is written, 'To proclaim the acceptable year of the Lord,' maintain that he preached for one year only, and then suffered in the twelfth month. They are forgetful of their own disadvantage, destroying his whole work, and robbing him of that age which is both more necessary and more honorable than any other; that more advanced age, I mean, during which also, as a teacher, he excelled all others. For how could he have had disciples if he did not teach? And how could he have taught, unless he had reached the age of a master? For when he came to be baptized, he had not yet completed his thirtieth year, but was beginning to be about thirty years of age.... Now, that the first stage of early life embraces thirty years, and that this extends onward to the fortieth year, every one will admit; but from the fortieth and fiftieth year, a man begins to decline toward old age; which our Lord possessed, while he still fulfilled the office of a teacher.... He did not therefore preach for only one year, nor did he suffer in the twelfth month of the year. For the period included between the thirtieth and fiftieth year can never be regarded as one year" (Book ii, ch. xxii, secs. 5, 6). 266 What is said regarding the extent of his works? John: "If they should be written every one, I suppose that even the world itself could not contain the books" (xxi, 25). In the very next verses of the Bible (Acts i, 1, 2) Luke declares that his brief Gospel contains a record "of all that Jesus began both to do and teach, until the day in which he was taken up." 267 Can the alleged teachings of Jesus be accepted as authentic? Three facts disprove, for the most part, their authenticity. 1. The most important teachings ascribed to him by the Synoptics were borrowed, either by him or his biographers, from other teachers and writers. 2. His teachings as presented by the Synoptics, and as presented by John, exclude each other. No critic can seriously contend that the discourses and sayings of Jesus recorded in the Synoptics and those given in the Fourth Gospel emanated from the same mind. They are wholly dissimilar, both in doctrine and phraseology. Dr. Westcott says: "It is impossible to pass from the Synoptic Gospels to that of St. John without feeling that the transition involves the passage from one world of thought to another. No familiarity with the general teaching of the Gospels, no wide conception of the character of the Savior, is sufficient to destroy the contrast which exists in form and spirit between the earlier and later narratives" (Introduction to Study of Gospels, p. 249). 3. The discourses attributed to Jesus in the Fourth Gospel were evidently composed by the author of that Gospel. This is apparent to every careful reader. The teachings ascribed to Jesus in John, then, are spurious; while those ascribed to him in Matthew, Mark and Luke are of doubtful authenticity. If any of the teachings of Jesus have been preserved they exist in the first three Gospels, but the unauthentic character of the Gospels themselves, renders it impossible to ascribe to him with certainty a single teaching. CHAPTER VI. THE CRUCIFIXION OF CHRIST. 268 When did Jesus first foretell his passion? Synoptics: Not until late in his ministry (Matt. xvi, 21; Mark viii, 31; Luke ix, 21-27). According to John (ii, 19-22) he referred to it at the beginning of his ministry. 269 When did he announce his betrayal? Matthew and Mark: At the Last Supper, while they were eating. "Now when the even was come, he sat down with the twelve. And as they did eat, he said, Verily I say unto you, that one of you shall betray me" (Matt. xxvi, 20, 21; Mark xiv, 18). Luke and John: Not until after supper (Luke xxii, 20, 21; John xiii, 2-21). John says that after supper he washed his disciples' feet and delivered a discourse to them, after which he said, "Verily, verily, I say unto you, that one of you shall betray me." 270 Did Jesus say who should betray him? Matthew and John: He did (Matt. xxvi, 25; John xiii, 26). Mark and Luke: He did not. 271 How did he disclose his betrayer? Matthew: By an implied affirmative answer to Judas' question, "Is it I?" "Then Judas which betrayed him, answered and said, Master, is it I? He said unto him, Thou hast said" (xxvi, 25). John: By giving Judas a sop. "Jesus answered, He it is to whom I shall give a sop, when I have dipped it. And when he had dipped the sop, he gave it to Judas Iscariot." 272 When did Satan enter into Judas? Luke: Before the Last Supper (xxii, 3-7). John: After the Last Supper (xiii, 1-27). 273 How did Judas betray Jesus? Matthew and Mark: "Now he that betrayed him, gave them a sign, saying, Whomsoever I shall kiss, that same is he; hold him fast. And forthwith he came to Jesus, and said, Hail, Master, and kissed him" (Matt. xxvi, 48, 49; Mark xiv, 44, 45). According to John, Judas did not betray him with a kiss. 274 What did Jesus say to Judas when he betrayed him? "Friend, wherefore art thou come?" (Matthew xxvi, 50.) "Judas, betrayest thou the Son of man with a kiss?" (Luke xxii, 48.) 275 What was Judas, and what office did he hold? John: "He was a thief, and had the bag, and bare what was put therein" (xii, 6). Judas was thus the first Christian treasurer. But why did Jesus, if omniscient, as claimed, select a thief for this office? Was he unable to conduct his ministry without the aid of one? 276 What did Judas receive for betraying his master? Matthew: "And they covenanted with him for thirty pieces of silver" (xxvi, 15). "It is strange that a man who kept the purse, and knew what he would lose by the death of his chief, should abandon the profits of his office for so small a sum."--Renan. 277 What did he do with the money? Matthew: "Then Judas, which had betrayed him, when he saw that he was condemned, repented himself, and brought again the thirty pieces of silver to the chief priests and elders.... And he cast down the pieces of silver in the temple and departed" (xxvii, 3-5). Peter: "Now this man [Judas] purchased a field with the reward of iniquity" (Acts i, 18). 278 The purchase of the potter's field was in fulfillment of what prophecy? Matthew: "That which was spoken by Jeremy the prophet, saying, And they took the thirty pieces of silver, the price of him that was valued, ... and gave them for the potter's field, as the Lord appointed me" (xxvii, 9, 10). This was not spoken by Jeremiah, but by Zechariah. "And the Lord said unto me, Cast it unto the potter: a goodly price that I was prized at of them. And I took the thirty pieces of silver and cast them to the potter in the house of the Lord" (xi, 13). It is evident that the account of the betrayal was inspired, not by a historical fact, but by a desire to "fulfill" a Messianic prophecy. Zechariah did not predict an event, but his words did suggest a fiction. This is the more probable from the fact that Matthew is the only Evangelist who mentions the thirty pieces of silver. The story of Christ's last visit to Jerusalem and the story of his betrayal exclude each other. According to the Evangelists he was not arrested for any offense he had committed during this visit, but for offenses he had committed prior to this. Yet during this visit he is said to have appeared openly with his disciples, making a triumphal entry into the city, visiting the temple and teaching in public. In the face of this the story that the Jews were obliged to bribe one of his disciples in order to apprehend him is absurd. One of these stories must be false. Regarding them Lord Amberley observes: "The representation of the Gospels, that Jesus went on teaching in public to the very end of his career, and yet that Judas received a bribe for his betrayal, is self-contradictory" (Life of Jesus, p. 214). To those who believe the accounts of the betrayal of Jesus to be historical, the ecclesiastical historian, Neander, in his "Life of Christ," advances a suggestion that is worthy of consideration. The betrayal of Jesus by Judas, it is suggested, was intended as a test of his Messiahship. If Jesus was the Messiah, Judas reasoned, he could save himself; if he was not the Messiah he was an impostor and deserved death. 279 What became of Judas? Matthew: He "went and hanged himself" (xxvii, 5). Peter: "Falling headlong he burst asunder in the midst, and all his bowels gushed out" (Acts i, 18). Papias, bishop of Hierapolis, one of the chief Christian authorities of the second century, and who wrote before the books of Matthew and Acts were written, gives the following account of the fate of Judas: "Judas walked about in the world a great example of impiety; for his body having swollen so that, on an occasion, when a wagon was moving on its way, he could not pass it, he was crushed by the chariot and his bowels gushed out." The German commentator, Dr. Hase, attempts to reconcile his suicide, as related by Matthew, with his death by accident, as related by Peter, by supposing that he attempted to hang himself, but that the rope broke, causing him to fall with such force as to disembowel himself. This harmonist apparently forgets to note that Peter says he fell "headlong," which makes it necessary to suppose that he hung himself by the feet. 280 To whom did Peter deliver his speech describing the fate of Judas? "Peter stood up in the midst of the disciples" (Acts i, 15). Is it not reasonable to suppose that the alleged information conveyed in his speech was as familiar to the disciples whom he addressed as to himself? Regarding this De Wette aptly says: "In the composition of this speech the author has not considered historical decorum." 281 What did Peter say in regard to the name of the field? "And it was known unto all the dwellers of Jerusalem; insomuch as that field is called in their proper tongue, Aceldama, that is to say, The field of blood" (Acts i, 19). Here Peter is represented as interpreting in Greek a Jewish word to his Jewish brethren. 282 Were there more than one of Jesus' disciples concerned in his betrayal? John: There were. "For Jesus knew from the beginning who they were [of his disciples] that believed not, and who should betray him" (vi, 64). 283 When the Jewish council met to plan the arrest of Jesus, to what conclusion did they come? Matthew and Mark: Not to arrest him on the feast day (Matt. xxvi, 3-5; Mark xiv, 1, 2). Yet this was the very day on which Matthew and Mark declare that he was arrested. 284 Who arrested him? Matthew and Mark: "A great multitude ... from the chief priests and elders of the people" (Matt. xxvi, 47; Mark xiv, 43). Luke: "The chief priests, and captains of the temple, and the elders" themselves (xxii, 47-52). 285 Who does John say was sent to arrest him? A "band of soldiers and officers" (xviii, 3, New Ver.). This contradicts the Synoptics, who declare that it was a mob of civilians. 286 What is said regarding the multitude sent out to apprehend him? Synoptics: They were armed "with swords and staves" (Matt. xxvi, 47; Mark xiv, 43; Luke xxii, 52). Were the disciples armed? All: They were, or one of them at least (Matt. xxvi, 51; Mark xiv, 47; Luke xxii, 38, 50; John xviii, 10). This is incredible, for Jews were never allowed to carry arms on a holy day. 287 How did they go out to capture him? John: "With lanterns and torches" (xviii, 3). His enemies are represented as believing that his arrest could be secured only by strategy and stealth. Under these circumstances is it reasonable to suppose that the chief priests would send out a torchlight procession to apprehend him? Besides, as it was at the full of the moon, what need had they of lanterns and torches? Again, lanterns were unknown in Palestine. 288 When the band sent to capture him first came up to him what did they do? Matthew and Mark: "They laid hands on him and took him" (Matt. xxvi, 47-50; Mark xiv, 43-46). John: "They went backward and fell to the ground" (xviii, 3-6). 289 What did Peter do when Jesus was arrested? John: "Then Simon Peter having a sword drew it, and smote the high priest's servant, and cut off his right ear" (xviii, 10). Yet no efforts were made to arrest and punish Peter, notwithstanding he was recognized and pointed out by the kinsman of the wounded man. It may be urged that Jesus had healed the servant's ear. This, even if true, would not have removed the guilt of the militant disciple. Had Peter really committed the deed, it is not probable that he would have visited the house of the high priest and remained in the presence of his enemies. 290 When was Jesus bound? John: When he was arrested (xviii, 12). Matthew and Mark: Not until after his trial before the Sanhedrim when he was taken to Pilate (Matt. xxvii, 2; Mark xv, 1). According to Luke he was not bound. 291 What did they do with Jesus when he was taken? Matthew: "Led him away to Caiaphas" (xxvi, 57). John: "Led him away to Annas first" (xviii, 13). 292 Did he have an examination before his trial? John: He did (xviii, 13-23). Our laws provide for what is known as a preliminary examination before a magistrate. This was forbidden by the Jewish law, and his alleged examination before a priest could not have taken place. 293 Before whom did his preliminary examination take place? John: Before Annas (xviii, 13-23). The Synoptics state that he was examined and tried before Caiaphas. 294 Repeat John xviii, 24. "Now Annas had sent him bound unto Caiaphas the high priest" (Old Ver.). "Annas therefore sent him bound unto Caiaphas the high priest" (New Ver.). This verse follows the account of Jesus' preliminary examination and shows clearly that this examination took place before Annas, and that he was not sent to Caiaphas until its conclusion. The King James translators, in order to hide the discrepancy, prefixed the word "now" and changed the tense of the verb, substituting "had sent" for "sent," so that it might appear that Annas had sent him to Caiaphas before the examination commenced. Concerning this corruption of the text, Scott says: "There is no conjunction 'now,' and an aorist cannot mark a definite time. If a hiatus is suspected, it may be indicated by an asterisk; but to insert words and alter the force of a tense in order to get over a grave historical difficulty is sheer dishonesty" (Life of Jesus, p. 289, note). 295 Matthew and John state that Caiaphas was high priest at this time. Who does the author of Acts state was high priest? "And Annas the high priest, and Caiaphas, and John, and Alexander, and as many as were of the kindred of the high priest, were gathered together at Jerusalem" (iv, 6). Luke (iii, 2), who is declared to be the author of Acts, says that Annas and Caiaphas were both high priests. Criticizing John's account of the examination before Annas, the author of "Supernatural Religion" says: "The Synoptics know nothing of the preliminary examination before Annas, and the reason given by the writer of the fourth Gospel why the soldiers first took Jesus to Annas: 'for he was father-in-law to Caiaphas who was first high priest that year,' is inadmissible. The assertion is a clear mistake, and it probably originated in a stranger writing of facts and institutions with which he was not well acquainted, being misled by an error equally committed by the author of the third Gospel, and of the Acts of the Apostles.... Such statements, erroneous in themselves and not understood by the author of the fourth Gospel, may have led to the confusion in the narrative. Annas had previously been high priest, as we know from Josephus, but nothing is more certain than the fact that the title was not continued after the office was resigned; and Ishmael, Eleazar, and Simon, who succeeded Annas and separated his term of office from that of Caiaphas, did not subsequently bear the title. The narrative is a mistake, and such an error could not have been committed by a native of Palestine, and much less by an acquaintance of the high priest" (p. 660). 296 What is said regarding the tenure of Caiaphas' office? John: He was "high priest that year" (xi, 49). John's language implies that the high priest was appointed annually, whereas he held his office for life, or until removed. Caiaphas had been high priest for many years. 297 What had Caiaphas prophesied concerning Jesus? John: "He prophesied that Jesus should die for that nation; and not for that nation only, but that also he should gather together in one the children of God that were scattered abroad" (xi, 51, 52). A high priest did not assume the role of prophet, much less would he have given utterance to the prophecy ascribed to Caiaphas. The Roman procurator might have expressed such a sentiment, for according to Roman law and ethics an individual could be sacrificed for the welfare of the state. The high priest, on the other hand, could not have uttered such a sentiment, because it was abhorrent to the Jewish mind. If all Israel could have been saved, and could have been saved only by the death of one of its innocent members, that member could not have been put to death, because, according to Jewish law, it would have made of every Jew concerned in it a murderer. It was a fundamental principle of the Jewish code that, "No human life must be abandoned on account of any other life." 298 Did Jesus have a trial before the Sanhedrim? Synoptics: He had (Matt. xxvi, 57-75; Mark xiv, 53-72; Luke xxii, 54-71). It was about this time (30 A. D.), that the Sanhedrim ceased to have jurisdiction over capital offenses. After its jurisdiction ceased Jesus could not have been tried before it; and before its jurisdiction ceased he would not have had a subsequent trial before Pilate. 299 Where was his trial held? Matthew and Mark: At the palace of the high priest. No trial was ever held at the residence of the high priest. All meetings of the Sanhedrim were held in the hall adjoining the temple. A trial at any other place would have been illegal. 300 What was the charge preferred against him? All: Blasphemy. Jesus, it was charged, had declared himself to be the son of God. This, if true, would not have constituted blasphemy. It was no offense against the law for a man to claim that he was the son of God. All men, and especially all good men, were recognized as the sons of God. Referring to Christ's claim, a Jewish writer says: "No law, no precedent, and no fictitious case in the Bible or the rabbinical literature, can be cited to make of this expression a case of blasphemy." And even if he had been proven guilty of blasphemy, he could not have been put to death, for blasphemy, at this time, had ceased to be a capital offense. And is it reasonable to suppose that the Romans would have condemned a man to death for an offense against a religion in which they did not themselves believe, but which they regarded as one of the vilest of superstitions? It may be urged that in his trial before Pilate the charge was changed to sedition. This charge was not sustained. 301 What is said regarding witnesses? Matthew and Mark: "Now the chief priests, and elders, and all the council, sought false witnesses against Jesus, to put him to death; but found none; yea, though many false witnesses came, yet found they none" (Matt. xxvi, 59, 60; Mark xiv, 55, 56). When every step thus far taken by the council had been illegal, why should it have been so particular in regard to the witnesses? The fact is the Evangelists were ignorant of Jewish laws. They believed that while the prosecution of Jesus was unjust it was yet conducted according to the established rules of Jewish courts. Referring to Mark, Dr. Wise says: "In his ignorance of Jewish law, he imagined the trial which he described was lawful among the Jews. He proves this, in the first place, by the very statement that witnesses were sought and produced. A court convoked and acting in rebellion to law and custom can be considered only a band of rebels. What use have such men of witnesses? Being lawless from the beginning, no legal restraint makes the presence of witnesses necessary.... He certainly thought of an honest, lawful trial, in the legal form; an honest and legal examination of witnesses, a fair consideration of the testimony, and after mature reflection the rejection thereof on account of insufficiency" (Martyrdom of Jesus, pp. 69, 70). 302 What did the so-called false witnesses that appeared against him testify that he had said? "I am able to destroy the temple of God, and to build it in three days" (Matthew xxvi, 61). "I will destroy this temple that is made with hands, and within three days I will build another made without hands" (Mark xiv, 58). 303 What had Jesus said? "Destroy this temple and in three days I will raise it up" (John ii, 19). Passing over the discrepancies of Matthew and Mark, if they have given the substance of these witnesses' testimony, then they were not false, but truthful witnesses; for Jesus, it is seen, had given utterance to such a declaration. If he referred to the temple of his body, as John affirms, and the Jews misunderstood him, the fault was his, not theirs. Josephus gives an account of a so-called prophet who, a few years later, boasted of his supernatural powers in much the same manner that Jesus is said to have done: "There came out of Egypt about this time to Jerusalem, one that said that he was a prophet, and advised the multitude of the common people to go along to the Mount of Olives, as it was called, which lay over against the city, and at the distance of five furlongs. He said further, that he would show them from hence, how, at his command, the walls of Jerusalem would fall down" (Antiquities, Book xx, chap. viii, sec. 6). 304 Was he questioned by the Sanhedrim? Synoptics: He was. They tried to convict him by his own testimony (Matt. xxvi, 62-64; Mark xiv, 60-63; Luke xxii, 66-71). A Jewish court did not question a prisoner. A prisoner could not even plead guilty. 305 To the priest's question, "Art thou the Christ?" what answer did he give? Mark: "Jesus said, I am" (xiv, 61, 62). Luke: "He said unto them, If I tell you, ye will not believe" (xxii, 67). 306 When did his trial before the Sanhedrim take place? Matthew and Mark: During the night. After his arrest, which probably occurred not later than midnight, they at once "led him away to Caiaphas the high priest, where ... the chief priests, and elders, and all the council [Sanhedrim]" had assembled, when his trial immediately began (Matt. xxvi, 57-68; Mark xiv, 58-65). Luke: Not until the next morning. During the night he was held in custody at the house of the high priest. "As soon as it was day, the elders of the people and the chief priests and the scribes came together, and led him into the council" (xxii, 66). This, according to Luke, was his first and only appearance before the Sanhedrim. Matthew and Mark, in addition to the night trial mentioned by them, also mention an adjourned session in the morning corresponding to the meeting of Luke. 307 Could this trial have been held in the night as stated by Matthew and Mark? It could not. The Jewish law prohibited the opening of a trial at night. The Sanhedrim could not hold a session before 6 a. m. or after 3 p. m. Luke was seemingly acquainted with this law; Matthew and Mark were not. 308 During what religious festivities was his trial held? Synoptics: During the feast of the Passover. It could not have been held during the Passover, for no trials were held by the Jews during this feast. 309 On what day of the week was it held? Synoptics: On Friday, the day preceding the Sabbath. No trial for a capital offense was ever allowed to begin on the day preceding the Sabbath. 310 How long did this trial last? All: But a few hours. The Jewish law required at least two days for a capital trial--one for prosecution, and one for the defense. 311 Did he have a defender or counselor in the Sanhedrim? Synoptics: He did not. According to the Synoptics he had no counsel, and the Sanhedrim were unanimous in their condemnation of him. This was contrary to Jewish law. The Sanhedrim might be unanimous in their belief that he was guilty, but it was the duty of at least one of them to defend him. This was the law: "If none of the judges defend the culprit, i. e., all pronounce him guilty, having no defender in the court, the verdict of guilty was invalid and the sentence of death could not be executed" (Maimonides). Dr. Geikie admits that the trial of Jesus before the Sanhedrim, as related in the Gospels, was in nearly every particular contrary to Jewish law. He says: "The accused was in all cases to be held innocent, till proved guilty. It was an axiom, that 'the Sanhedrim was to save, not to destroy life.' No one could be tried and condemned in his absence, and when a person accused was brought before the court, it was the duty of the president, at the outset, to admonish the witnesses to remember the value of human life, and to take care that they forgot nothing that would tell in the prisoner's favor. Nor was he left undefended; a Baal-Rib, or counsel, was appointed, to see that all possible was done for his acquittal. Whatever evidence tended to aid him was to be freely admitted, and no member of the court who had once spoken in favor of acquittal could afterwards vote for condemnation. The votes of the youngest of the judges were taken first, that they might not be influenced by their seniors. In capital charges, it required a majority of at least two to condemn, and while the verdict of acquittal could be given at once, that of guilty could only be pronounced the next day. Hence, capital trials could not begin on the day preceding a Sabbath, or public feast. No criminal trial could be carried through in the night; the judges who condemned any one to death had to fast all the day before, and no one could be executed on the same day on which the sentence was pronounced." (Life of Christ, vol. ii, p. 487.) 312 Had Jesus been tried, convicted and executed by the Jews would he have been crucified? He would not. Crucifixion was a mode of punishment never employed by the Jews. Had the Jews executed him he would have been stoned. It is impliedly stated in the Synoptics, and expressly stated in John, that the Sanhedrim's jurisdiction over capital crimes had ceased. "It is not lawful for us to put any man to death" (xviii, 31). The Sanhedrim's authority ceased in 30 A. D., and it is generally claimed by Christians that the crucifixion occurred from one to five years after this time. 313 What does Peter say in regard to the mode of punishment employed in his execution? "The God of our fathers raised up Jesus, whom ye slew and hanged on a tree" (Acts v, 30). "And we are witnesses of all things which he did both in the land of the Jews, and in Jerusalem; whom ye slew and hanged on a tree" (x, 39). Concerning this, Mrs. Evans says: "With regard to his death, it was said that the Jews slew him and hanged him on a tree; and again that he was taken down from the tree; expressions which do not imply crucifixion, but rather the legal execution for such crimes as the one alleged, that is, stoning to death and the exposure of the dead body upon a stake, or a tree" (Christ Myth, p. 79). 314 How was he treated by the Sanhedrim? Matthew and Mark: "They spit in his face, and buffeted him; and others smote him with the palms of their hands" (Matt. xxvi, 67; Mark xiv, 65). Every Jew, and every other person acquainted with the Jewish history of that age, knows that this is false. The Sanhedrim was composed of the wisest and the best men of that race. Superstitious, bigoted and fanatical some of them doubtless were, but in that august court law and dignity and decorum reigned. These accounts of the trial of Christ before the Sanhedrim afford overwhelming proof that they were not written by apostles nor by residents of Palestine. They were written by Gentile Christians, or by Jewish converts living in foreign lands, and presumably the former, for even foreign Jews must have possessed a better knowledge of Jewish laws and customs than the Evangelists display. 315 During the trial Peter denied his master. What had Jesus predicted concerning his denial? Matthew, Luke and John: "Jesus said unto him, Verily I say unto thee, that this night, before the cock crow, thou shalt deny me thrice" (Matt. xxvi, 34; Luke xxii, 34; John xiii, 38). Mark: "And Jesus saith unto him, Verily I say unto thee, that this day, even in this night, before the cock crow twice, thou shalt deny me thrice" (xiv, 30). 316 Did Peter deny him three times before the cock crew? Matthew, Luke and John: He did (Matt. xxvi, 69-75; Luke xxii, 54-62; John xviii, 15-27). Mark: He did not; he had denied him but once when the cock crew (xiv, 66-68). 317 Where were they when Jesus foretold Peter's denial? Matthew and Mark: At the Mount of Olives (Matt. xxvi, 30-35; Mark xiv, 26-30). Luke: In Jerusalem, at supper, before they went out to the Mount of Olives (xxii, 7-39). 318 What did Peter do when he entered the palace? Luke: "Peter sat down among them" (xxii, 55). John: "Peter stood with them" (xviii, 18). 319 When was he first accused of being the friend of Jesus? John: As he entered the room (xviii, 16, 17). Mark and Luke: As he sat by the fire (Mark xiv, 66, 67; Luke xxii, 54-57). 320 When was he accused the second time? John: In the house as he "stood and warmed himself" (xviii, 25). Matthew: "When he was gone out into the porch" (xxvi, 71). 321 By whom was he accused the second time? Matthew and Mark: By a "maid" (Matt. xxvi, 71; Mark xiv, 69). Luke: By a "man" (xxii, 59, 60). 322 Who accused him the third time? Matthew and Mark: "They that stood by" (Matt. xxvi, 73; Mark xiv, 70). John: "One of the servants of the high priest" (xviii, 26). 323 Was Jesus present when Peter denied him? Matthew and Mark: He was not. Luke: He was. "The Lord turned and looked upon Peter" (xxii, 60, 61). 324 Where was Jesus next sent for trial? Luke: To Herod, tetrarch of Galilee, who was attending the Passover at Jerusalem (xxiii, 6-11). In the matter of trials the Evangelists, as in everything else, have overdone things. Notwithstanding no trial was ever held during the Passover they give him four trials in one day, and not finding courts enough in Judea for the purpose, they import one from Galilee. There is nothing more improbable than this alleged examination of Jesus by Herod. Imagine the Governor General of Canada sitting in judgment on a criminal at Washington, because the criminal is a Canadian, or an Ohio court holding a session in New York because the prisoner arraigned once lived in Ohio. The offenses with which Jesus was charged were committed, not in Herod's province, Galilee, but in Pilate's province, Judea. It is strange that John, who pretends to relate every important event connected with the trial of Jesus, should omit his trial before Herod. Concerning this Strauss says: "The conjecture, that it may probably have appeared to him [John] too unimportant, loses all foundation when it is considered that John does not scorn to mention the leading away to Annas, which nevertheless was equally indecisive; and in general, the narrative of these events in John is, as Schleiermacher himself confesses, so consecutive that it nowhere presents a break in which such an episode could be inserted. Hence even Schleiermacher at last takes refuge in the conjecture that possibly the sending to Herod may have escaped the notice of John, because it happened on an opposite side to that on which the disciple stood, through a back door; and that it came to the knowledge of Luke because his informant had an acquaintance in the household of Herod, as John had in that of Annas; the former conjecture, however, is figuratively as well as literally nothing more than a back door; the latter, a fiction which is but the effort of despair" (Leben Jesu, pp. 764, 765). 325 What was the result of Pilate's sending Jesus to Herod? Luke: "And the same day Pilate and Herod were made friends together, for before they were at enmity between themselves" (xxiii, 12). Pilate and Herod did not become friends. To the day of Pilate's recall they were enemies. Herod was continually plotting and striving to unite with his tetrarchy the province of Judea which belonged to his father's kingdom, and which his father had promised to give him. 326 Did Jesus's trial before Pilate take place in the presence of his accusers? Luke: It did (xxiii, 1-4, 13, 14). John: It did not (xviii, 28). 327 Did Pilate go out of the judgment hall to consult with those who were prosecuting Jesus? Luke: He did not (xxiii, 1-25). John: He did. "Pilate then went out unto them [the Jews], and said, What accusation bring ye against this man? They answered and said unto him, If he were not a malefactor, we would not have delivered him up unto thee.... Then Pilate entered into the judgment hall again, and called Jesus, and said unto him, Art thou the King of the Jews? Jesus answered him, Sayest thou this thing of thyself, or did others tell it thee of me?" (xxiii, 29, 30, 33, 34.) The prosecution and the defense are both declared to have returned insolent answers to the questions of Pilate. The Jewish priests were too wise for this, and Christians will be loath to admit that their Savior was so indiscreet and so impolite as to indulge in such insolence. 328 What was the result of his trial before Pilate? All: Pilate declared him innocent and sentenced him to death. "And Pilate, when he had called together the chief priests and the rulers and the people, said unto them, Ye have brought this man unto me, as one that perverteth the people; and, behold, I, having examined him before you, have found no fault in this man touching those things whereof ye accuse him.... And Pilate gave sentence that it should be as they required.... He delivered Jesus to their will" (Luke xxiii, 13, 14, 24, 25). "Pilate saith unto them, Take ye him, and crucify him; for I find no fault in him" (John xix, 6). It is impossible to believe that the highest court of a country would pronounce a prisoner innocent and then condemn him to death. Judicial murders are sometimes committed, but the murderers do not confess their guilt. It is declared that Pilate desired to release Jesus but could not. Who ruled Judea, Pilate or the Sanhedrim? According to the Evangelists, the Romans ruled Judea, while the Jews ruled the Romans. Between the Pilate of the New Testament and the Pilate of history there is nothing in common. The Pilate of the New Testament is subservient to the Jews, acceding to their every wish, even to murdering an innocent prisoner. The Pilate of history is noted for his hatred of the Jews and his cruelties to them. It was these which provoked his recall. 329 When Pilate could not prevail upon the Jews to allow him to release Jesus, what did he do? Matthew: "He took water, and washed his hands before the multitude, saying, I am innocent of the blood of this just person" (xxvii, 24). Matthew does not appear to realize the absurdity of supposing that a Roman official would adopt a custom peculiar to a people whom he held in contempt. "And all the elders of that city, that are next unto the slain man shall wash their hands ... and they shall answer and say, Our hands have not shed this blood" (Deuteronomy xx, 6, 7). 330 What indignities were heaped upon Jesus during his trial before Pilate? John: "Then Pilate therefore took Jesus, and scourged him. And the soldiers platted a crown of thorns, and put it on his head, and they put on him a purple robe, and said, Hail, King of the Jews! and they smote him with their hands. Pilate therefore went forth again, and saith unto them, Behold, I bring him forth to you, that ye may know that I find no fault in him. Then came Jesus forth, wearing the crown of thorns, and the purple robe. And Pilate saith unto them, Behold the man!" (xix, 1-5.) These indignities Jesus is said to have suffered, not at the hands of a Jewish mob, but at the hands of a Roman court, from which the Jews had absented themselves and whose proceedings they could not witness nor directly influence. Every lawyer knows that for more than two thousand years the Roman court has been the world's model for dignity and fairness. That an innocent and defenseless prisoner was subjected to these insults and brutalities in a Roman court, presided over by a Roman governor, none but a slave of superstition can believe. 331 When was he scourged? Matthew and Mark: Before he was executed. "And when he [Pilate] had scourged Jesus, he delivered him to be crucified" (Matt. xxvii, 26; Mark xv, 15). John: Before the termination of his trial (xix, 1-16). Scourging was frequently inflicted by the Romans before execution, but never before the prisoner was convicted and sentenced. The "Bible Dictionary" concedes the illegal and unusual character of the scourging mentioned by John. "In our Lord's case, however, this infliction seems neither to have been the legal scourging after sentence nor yet the examination by torture" (Acts xxii, 24). 332 What custom is said to have been observed at the Passover? All: The release of a prisoner by the Roman governor (Matt. xxvii, 15; Mark xv, 6; Luke xxiii, 17; John xviii, 39). "Now at that feast the governor was wont to release unto the people a prisoner, whom they would." There is no historical authority whatever for this alleged custom. It was a custom that the Roman government in Judea could not with safety adopt. The Jews were a subject people, waiting and hoping for an opportunity to throw off the Roman yoke. To release to them "whomsoever they desired" (Mark xv, 6) might be to release a political prisoner whose liberty would endanger the government itself. This story was probably suggested by a custom of the Roman emperors who released a prisoner at their birthday festivals. 333 They demanded and obtained the release of Barrabas. Who was Barrabas? John: A robber. "Now Barrabas was a robber" (xviii, 40). Mark and Luke: A murderer. "Barrabas (who for a certain sedition made in the city, and for murder, was cast into prison)" (Luke xxiii, 18, 19; Mark xv, 7). 334 By whom was Jesus clad in mockery? Matthew, Mark and John: By Pilate's soldiers (Matt. xxvii, 27, 28; Mark xv, 16, 17; John xix, 1, 2). Luke: By Herod and his soldiers. "And Herod with his men of war set him at nought, and mocked him, and arrayed him in a gorgeous robe" (xxiii, 11). 335 What was the color of the robe they put on him? Matthew: "They stripped him, and put on him a scarlet robe" (xxvii, 28). Mark and John: "They put on him a purple robe" (John xix, 2; Mark xv, 17). 336 When did this occur? John: During his trial (xix, 1, 2, 12-16). Matthew and Mark: After Pilate had delivered him to be crucified (Matt. xxvii, 26-28; Mark xv, 15-17). 337 Describe the mocking of Jesus. Matthew: "Then released he Barrabas unto them; and when he had scourged Jesus, he delivered him to be crucified. Then the soldiers of the governor took Jesus into the common hall, and gathered unto him the whole band of soldiers. And they stripped him, and put on him a scarlet robe. And when they had platted a crown of thorns, they put it upon his head, and a reed in his right hand; and they bowed the knee before him, saying, Hail, King of the Jews!" (xxvii, 26-29.) The original of this account of the mocking of Jesus is to be found in Philo's "Adversus Flaccum," written more than one hundred years before the Gospels made their appearance. Herod Agrippa was on his way from Rome to Palestine to assume the government of that country. When he stopped at Alexandria his enemies, to annoy him, instituted a mock coronation, which Philo relates as follows: "There was a certain poor wretch named Carrabas, who spent all his days and nights in the roads, the sport of idle children and wanton youths; and the multitude, having driven him as far as the public gymnasium, and having set him up there on high, that he might be seen of everybody, flattening out a papyrus leaf, put it on his head instead of a crown, and clothed the rest of his body with a common mat in place of a robe, and in lieu of a sceptre thrust into his hand a reed, which they found lying by the wayside. And when he had received all the insignia of royalty, and had been dressed and adorned like a king, young men bearing sticks on their shoulders stood on each side of him in imitation of guards, while others came up, some as if to salute him, and others pretending to plead their causes before him" (Philo's Works, vol. iv, pp. 68, 69). 338 Who smote Jesus after his trial? Mark: "The servants did strike him with the palms of their hands" (xiv, 65). John: "One of the officers which stood by struck Jesus with the palm of his hand" (xviii, 22). The stories of these mockings, revilings, and brutal assaults cannot be accepted as historical. They are self-evidently false. Were they alleged to have been committed by an irresponsible Jewish or Roman mob they might be credited; but when they are declared to have been committed by, or while in the custody of the highest Jewish and Roman officials they must be rejected. 339 To whom did Pilate deliver him to be crucified? Matthew and Mark: To the Roman soldiers. "And when he had scourged Jesus he delivered him to be crucified. Then the soldiers of the governor took Jesus.... And when they were come unto a place called Golgotha, that is to say, a place of a skull, ... they crucified him" (Matt. xxvii, 26-35; Mark xv, 15-24). John: He delivered him to the Jews. "And he saith unto the Jews, Behold your King! But they cried out, Away with him, crucify him. Pilate saith unto them, Shall I crucify your King? The chief priests answered, We have no king but Caesar. Then delivered he him therefore unto them to be crucified. And they took Jesus and led him away. And he bearing his cross went forth into a place called the place of the skulls, which is called in Hebrew Golgotha; where they crucified him" (xix, 14-18). Matthew and Mark plainly state that Jesus was delivered to the Roman soldiers; John just as plainly states that he was delivered to the Jews. Matthew and Mark declare that he was crucified by the soldiers; John declares that he was crucified by the Jews. Were it not that John elsewhere (xix, 23) contradicts himself and states that the soldiers crucified him, the conclusion would be, after reading John, that he was crucified by the Jews. Peter declares that the Jews executed him. Addressing the Sanhedrim, he says: "The God of our fathers raised up Jesus, whom ye slew and hanged on a tree" (Acts v, 30). 340 Who was compelled to carry the cross? Synoptics: "And as they came out, they found a man of Cyrene, Simon by name; him they compelled to bear his cross" (Matt. xxvii, 32; Mark xv, 21; Luke xxiii, 26). John: The cross was borne by Jesus himself (xix, 17). 341 Where was Simon when they compelled him to carry the cross? Mark: "Coming out of the country" (xv, 21). The correct reading of this is, "coming from the field," i. e., "coming from his work." This is improbable as they did not work on the Passover. 342 The Synoptics agree in stating that Simon was compelled to carry the cross. Is this probable? It is not. In executions of this kind the criminal was always required to carry it himself as a mark of disgrace. 343 It is inferred from the Synoptics that the cross was too heavy for Jesus to bear, and Christian writings and paintings represent him bending with fatigue beneath the burden of the entire cross. What was the burden he was required to carry? Simply the patibulum, or cross piece, which was not heavy. The upright portion of the cross was a permanent fixture. 344 On his way to execution he made a speech to the women of Jerusalem who bewailed his fate. Alluding, as is alleged, to the coming destruction of Jerusalem, what did he declare they would say? "To the mountains, Fall on us; and to the hills, Cover us" (Luke xxiii, 30). Luke attempts to put into the mouth of Jesus a quotation from Hosea, but his memory was defective. What the prophet said was as follows: "To the mountains, Cover us; and to the hills, Fall on us" (Hosea x, 8). Renan pronounces this speech spurious. He says: "The speech to the women of Jerusalem could scarcely have been conceived except after the siege of the year 70." 345 Where was he crucified? Matthew and Mark: At "a place called Golgotha, that is to say, a place of a skull" (Matt. xxvii, 33; Mark xv, 22). Luke: At Calvary (xxiii, 33). Calvary, like Golgotha, means a place of skulls in the vicinity of Jerusalem. The explanation given by Christian commentators is that "it was a spot where executions ordinarily took place, and therefore abounded in skulls." Fleetwood says it "was called Golgotha, or Place of Skulls, from the criminals' bones which lay scattered there" (Life of Christ, p. 416). Where Jewish customs prevailed--and it is admitted that they did prevail in Jerusalem and Judea at this time, and had for hundreds of years--a human skull or bone was not allowed to be exposed for even a moment. 346 What was the inscription on the cross? Mark: "The King of the Jews" (xv, 26). Luke: "This is the King of the Jews" (xxiii, 38). Matthew: "This is Jesus the King of the Jews" (xxvii, 37). John: "Jesus of Nazareth, the King of the Jews" (xix, 19). There was placed on the cross a certain inscription. According to Luke and John it appeared in Greek, Latin and Hebrew. Four divinely inspired historians attempt to report in Greek the exact words of this inscription. Yet no two of their reports agree. 347 Did the name of Jesus appear on the cross? Matthew and John: It did. Mark and Luke: It did not. 348 Did the word "Nazareth" appear in the inscription? John: It did. Synoptics: It did not. 349 What did they offer him to drink before crucifying him? Matthew: "Vinegar mingled with gall" (xxvii, 34). Mark: "Wine mingled with myrrh" (xv, 23). Luke: "Vinegar" alone (xxiii, 36). The draughts mentioned by Matthew and Mark refer to a Jewish mixture intended to produce stupefaction and lessen pain. Had the Romans crucified him it is not probable that they would have observed this Jewish custom. 350 How was he fastened on the cross? Luke and John: His hands and feet were nailed to it (Luke xxiv, 39; John xx, 25, 27). The Evangelists do not say that he was nailed to the cross; but it has been inferred from the texts mentioned in Luke and John that he was. In crucifixion the victim was usually bound to the cross. Nails were sometimes driven through the hands, but never through the feet. The allusions to the supposed wounds on his hands and feet were evidently inserted in the accounts for the purpose of establishing his identity after the resurrection. Great prominence has been given them by Christians in order to make Christ's crucifixion appear especially cruel and create sympathy for him. 351 At what hour of the day was he crucified? Mark: "It was the third hour [nine o'clock in the morning]" (xv, 25). Luke: "It was about the sixth hour [noon]" (xxiii, 44). John: At the sixth hour he had not been sentenced and delivered to the executioners; hence he was not crucified until the afternoon (xix, 14-16). Dr. Geikie admits that three hours may have elapsed between the termination of his trial and his crucifixion. Hence, according to John, the crucifixion may have occurred as late as three o'clock in the afternoon. It has been attempted to explain the discrepancy between Mark and John by supposing that John used a different method of reckoning time. Concerning this, Prof. Sanday, one of England's highest orthodox authorities, says: "The writer of this was at one time inclined to look with favor on these attempts. If the premise could be proved, the data would work out satisfactorily.... But it must definitely be said that the major premise cannot be proved, and that the attempt to reconcile the two statements on this basis breaks down." 352 How did the soldiers divide the garments? Matthew: "And they crucified him, and parted his garments, casting lots; that it might be fulfilled which was spoken by the prophet, They parted my garments among them, and upon my vesture did they cast lots" (xxvii, 35). John: "Then the soldiers when they had crucified Jesus, took his garments, and made four parts, to every soldier a part; and also his coat: now the coat was without seam, woven from the top throughout. They said, therefore, among themselves, Let us not rend it, but cast lots for it, whose it shall be; that the scripture might be fulfilled, which saith, They parted my raiment among them, and for my vesture they did cast lots" (xix, 23, 24). According to Matthew they cast lots for all the garments; according to John they cast lots for the coat alone. John here makes the same error in regard to the garments that Matthew does in regard to the ass on which Jesus made his triumphal entry. In the verse cited from Psalms garments and vesture are the same thing--the clothing of the writer. One of the chief characteristics of Hebrew poetry, or much of it at least, is that each successive thought is stated twice, but in different words. 353 Who were crucified with Jesus? Mark and Matthew: "And with him they crucify two thieves" (Mark xv, 27; Matt. xxvii, 38). Thieves were not crucified. Crucifixion, or death in any form, for theft was contrary to both Jewish and Roman law. Theft was not a capital offense. 354 His crucifixion between two thieves fulfilled what prophecy? Mark: "And the scripture was fulfilled which saith, And he shall be numbered with the transgressors" (xv, 28). "The same thing might be said of the thieves."--Paine. This passage is not to be found in the earlier manuscripts of Mark, and Westcott declares it to be an interpolation. 355 How long did Jesus survive after being placed upon the cross? Luke: About three hours (xxiii, 44). A Jamaica negro slave, crucified in 1760, lived two hundred and ten hours. Kitto says: "We may consider thirty-six hours to be the earliest period at which crucifixion would occasion death in a healthy adult" (Biblical Cyclopedia, Art. Crucifixion). 356 What were his last words? Matthew: "Eli, Eli, lama sabachthani, that is to say, My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?" (xxvii, 46). Mark: "Eloi, Eloi, lama sabachthani, which is, being interpreted, My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?" (xv, 34.) Luke: "Father, into thy hands I commend my spirit" (xxiii, 46). John: "It is finished" (xix, 30). With the Four Gospels before them, Christians do not know what his last words were. The two most popular English Lives of Christ are those of Dr. Farrar and Dr. Geikie. These writers were contemporaries and friends, and both were adherents of the same church. Both, with these Gospels for their authorities, attempt to portray the closing scene. I quote from each: Dr. Farrar: "And now the end was come. Once more, in the words of the sweet Psalmist of Israel, but adding to them that title of trustful love which, through Him, is permitted to the use of all mankind, 'Father,' he said, 'into Thy hands I commend my spirit.' Then with one more great effort he uttered the last cry--the one victorious word, 'It is finished.'" Dr. Geikie: "A moment more, and all was over. The cloud had passed as suddenly as it rose. Far and wide, over the vanquished throngs of his enemies, with a loud voice, as if uttering his shout of eternal victory before entering into his glory, he cried, 'It is finished!' Then, more gently, came the words, 'Father, into Thy hands I commend my spirit.'" 357 In what language were his last words uttered? Matthew: In Hebrew. Mark: In Aramaic and Hebrew. The language spoken by Jesus and by the people of Palestine at this time was the Aramaic. Mark attempts to give the words of Jesus in this language. But while the first two words are Aramaic, the last two are Hebrew. The words Mark attempts to give are "Elohi, Elohi, metul mah shabaktani?" This Gospel was written by one ignorant of the language of Palestine. 358 Matthew interprets the Hebrew words quoted by him to mean, "My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?" Is this correct? It is not. The words mean, "My God, my God, why hast thou sacrificed me?" The Gospel of Matthew, it is claimed, originally appeared in Hebrew. But this shows that the author of Matthew did not understand the Hebrew language. 359 What are the words given by Matthew and Mark? The first words of the 22d Psalm. In the words of Farrar, "He borrowed from David's utter agony the expression of his own." Is it probable that a man in the agonies of a terrible death would devote his expiring breath to a recital of Hebrew poetry? When even the dying words of this Christ are borrowed, is it not evident that the whole story of his life is fabulous? The accounts of the crucifixion given by the Evangelists are to a large extent reproductions of the 22d Psalm, even to the language itself, the poetical allusions of the psalmist being transformed into alleged historical facts. The devout Christian who is familiar with this Passion Psalm sees in the Evangelists' account of the crucifixion a wonderful fulfillment of prophecy. But the critic sees merely the borrowed embellishments of a legend. 360 What expression did his words, "Eli, Eli, lama sabachthani," provoke? Matthew: "Some of them that stood there, when they heard that, said, This man calleth for Elias" (xxvii, 47). This is additional proof of Matthew's ignorance of Hebrew. He supposes a similarity of sound between the two words, whereas they were utterly unlike in pronunciation. Eli was pronounced Ali (long a), while Elias was pronounced Eleeyahu. But even had they been so much alike in sound that one might have been mistaken for the other, as Matthew supposes, the alleged incident is disproved by the fact that the Jews were not allowed to attend the execution, while to the Romans the words were meaningless. 361 Who was it bade them see whether Elias would come to his rescue? Mark: The one who gave him the sponge filled with vinegar. "And one ran and filled a sponge full of vinegar, and put it on a reed, and gave him to drink, saying, Let alone, let us see whether Elias will come to take him down" (xv, 36). Matthew: It was not this person, but those who were with him. "And straightway one of them ran, and took a sponge and filled it with vinegar, and put it on a reed, and gave him to drink. The rest said, Let be, let us see whether Elias will come to save him" (xxvii, 48, 49). In regard to these alleged last words of Jesus, Dr. Hooykaas says: "It seems to us far more probable that these words of the Messianic passion-psalm were put into the mouth of Jesus by tradition than that he really uttered them. The sequel, too, throws great suspicion on the report; for the Jews were not allowed to approach the cross, and what did the Roman soldiers know about Elijah? Besides, if the Jews had really heard him cry "Eli!" or "Eloi!" they would hardly have mistaken the words of the twenty-second Psalm for a cry to the precursor of the Messianic kingdom--a mistake upon which their raillery is made to depend. We must, therefore, put aside these words, as in all probability unhistorical" (Bible for Learners, vol. iii, p. 454). 362 Did the thieves between whom he was crucified both revile him? Matthew and Mark: They did. "And they that were crucified with him reviled him" (Mark xv, 32; Matt. xxvii, 44). Luke: They did not; but one reviled him. "And one of the malefactors which were hanged railed on him.... But the other answering rebuked him, saying, Dost not thou fear God, seeing thou art in the same condemnation?" (xxiii, 39, 40.) If these men were crucified with Jesus, as claimed, neither reviled him. Reason rejects the statement that a dying man, suffering unutterable agony, reviled a fellow sufferer. 363 What request did the penitent thief make of Jesus? Luke: "And he said unto Jesus, Lord, remember me when thou comest into thy kingdom" (xxiii, 42). Here the dying thief is represented as being familiar with a subject which the disciples themselves did not at this time comprehend. 364 What did Jesus say to the thief? "Today shalt thou be with me in paradise" (Luke xxiii, 43). Instead of going to the Christian Heaven above, they went to the Jewish-Pagan Sheol (Hell) below. Did Jesus recant on the cross? Did he renounce the Kingdom of God when God deserted him? Concerning this remarkable passage, Smith's "Bible Dictionary" says: "The Rabbis in the time of our Savior taught there was a region of the world of the dead, of Sheol, in the heart of the earth. Gehenna was on one side, with its flames and torments; Paradise on the other, the intermediate home of the blessed.... It is significant, indeed, that the word 'paradise' nowhere occurs in the public teaching of our Lord, or in his intercourse with his disciples. Connected as it had been with the thoughts of a sensuous happiness, it was not the fittest nor the best word for those whom he was training to rise out of sensuous thoughts to the higher regions of the spiritual life. For them, accordingly, the Kingdom of Heaven, the Kingdom of God, are the words most dwelt on. With the thief dying on the cross the case was different. We can assume nothing in the robber-outlaw but the most rudimentary forms of the popular belief. The answer to his prayer gave him what he needed most, the assurance of immediate rest and peace." The explanation of the apologist is as lame as the story of the Evangelist. Did Jesus go to Hell with the thief because the thief was unfit to go to Heaven with him? This apologist says that Jesus used these words--gave expression to a false doctrine--because the thief was incapable of comprehending the true doctrine. But this conflicts with the alleged words of the thief himself which show that he did comprehend the nature of the kingdom of Heaven. It was this, and not the peace of the grave, for which he prayed. 365 What were the centurion's words? Luke: "Certainly this was a righteous man" (xxiii, 47). Matthew: "Truly this was the Son of God" (xxvii, 54). We have here the anomaly of a Roman officer--a Pagan--entertaining a Jewish doctrine of a Messiah, and accepting the Christian claim that Jesus was the Messiah. If this be true it is strange that he permitted his soldiers to insult and abuse Jesus. 366 After Jesus expired what did one of the soldiers do? John: "One of the soldiers with a spear pierced his side" (xix, 34). It is remarkable that the Synoptics, who pretend to relate every important incident connected with the crucifixion, make no mention of the spear thrust. 367 What is said to have issued from the wound? John: "And forthwith came there out blood and water" (xix, 34). According to a well known physiological fact, if Jesus was still alive or had but recently expired, not blood and water, but blood alone would have flowed from the wound. If he was dead, and it is stated that he was, then neither blood nor water would have flowed from it. When blood is drawn from a living body it becomes separated into two parts, a thick substance known as febrine, and a watery fluid known as serum. John was familiar with this fact and supposed that this also took place in a corpse, which is not the case. Dr. Cabanes, a noted physician of Paris, writes as follows regarding the crucifixion of Jesus: "It appears that crucifixion alone could not have produced the death of Jesus, and in reference to the wounds produced by the nails, these wounds being the result of crushing, the hemorrhage was small. A burning fever might possibly occur which would be manifested by an intense thirst, but the flow of blood could not be sufficient to cause death. Death in this case is preceded by a comatose condition which would be inconsistent with the cry uttered in a loud voice by Jesus shortly before his last breath. All the commentators of the gospels further agree that Jesus did not remain more than three to six hours on the cross, and death cannot be produced by an exposure of this duration to this mode of torture. "The generally accepted version of the lance wound received by Jesus is that the blow was struck on the left side and that there flowed from the wound water mingled with blood. It has been correctly remarked that blood does not flow from a corpse, and therefore if blood followed the lance stroke, Jesus must have been alive; further, in order that the blow might have killed the dying man, it must have injured a vital organ. It must be observed that a lance directed upward and from right to left could not reach the right-hand cavities of the heart without first opening the peritoneal cavity, traversing the liver, the pericardium and perhaps the pleura. We must therefore ask how the few hundred grams of blood which a right ventricle could contain, could penetrate to the exterior of the body after such a great wound. Also with those who die slowly there is found a distended heart in which the blood has very rapidly coagulated, and it must follow that if a flood of the liquid appeared on the side of Jesus it could not have come from the heart. With regard to the vena cava, its situation is too far back to have allowed it to be touched by the lance. If the wound had been in the stomach a lesion of the digestive tube would have been disclosed by an ejection of blood mingled with alimentary matter, either from the mouth or the opening of the wound, or at least by a discharge of blood into the abdominal cavity. Had the liver been touched the symptoms of an internal hemorrhage would have been observed, as in the case of President Carnot, in whose case the blow of the poignard, directed downward, perforated the liver and the portal vein, inducing a state of coma, whereas Jesus, we have been told, cried out with a loud voice. We thus see that death was not due to the lance wound or to the torture of crucifixion, as so often stated." 368 Was Christ's suffering foretold by the prophets? Peter: "But those things, which God before had showed by the mouth of all his prophets, that Christ should suffer, he hath so fulfilled" (Acts iii, 18). God had not showed by the mouth of all his prophets, nor by the mouth of even one of his prophets, that Christ should suffer. The prophets know nothing of a suffering Messiah. There is not a text in the Old Testament referring to such a Messiah. The passages relating to suffering cited by the Evangelists and applied to Christ have no reference whatever to a Messiah. The Encyclopedia Britannica says: "That the Jews in the time of Christ believed in a suffering and atoning Messiah is, to say the least, unproved and highly improbable." 369 What marvelous events occurred at the time of the crucifixion? Matthew: "There was darkness over all the land" (xxvii, 45). "The veil of the temple was rent in twain from the top to the bottom; and the earth did quake, and the rocks rent; and the graves were opened; and many bodies of the saints which slept arose" (51, 52). Mark and Luke: "There was darkness over the whole land" (Mark xv, 33). "And the veil of the temple was rent in twain from the top to the bottom" (38). Mark and Luke know nothing of two of the important events related by Matthew; John is ignorant of all of them. Had these events really happened, the naturalists and chroniclers of that age would have recorded them. As they make no mention of them, we know that they did not occur. If we accept the claims of their followers, nearly all the gods and heroes of antiquity expired amid the convulsions of Nature. The soul of Romulus went out amid the battling of her elements; "the sun was darkened and the sky rained fire and ashes" when the Hindu Krishna left his saddened followers; "the earth shook, the rocks were rent, the graves opened, and in a storm which threatened the dissolution of the universe," Prometheus closed his earthly career; a pall of darkness settled over Egypt when her Osiris died; the death of Alexander was succeeded by six hours of preternatural gloom; and-- "Ere the mighty Julius fell, The grave stood tenantless, and the sheeted dead Did squeak and gibber in the Roman streets." 370 How long did the darkness last? Synoptics: From the sixth to the ninth hour (Matt. xxvii, 45; Mark xv, 33; Luke xxiii, 44). According to Matthew and Luke this darkness lasted from the time that he was suspended upon the cross until he died. Yet his executioners are ignorant of it. Luke says: "His acquaintances, and the women that followed him from Galilee, stood afar off, beholding these things [the crucifixion]" (xxiii, 49), which they could not have done had this darkness really occurred. If this darkness occurred, and began at the sixth hour, as stated by the Synoptics, then, according to John, the conclusion of the trial, the sentencing of Jesus, the preparations for his execution, and the journey to Golgotha, all took place during the darkness, a conclusion which the nature of the narrative utterly precludes. Christian apologists have cited Phlegon who notices an eclipse which occurred about this time. But there is a variance of at least six years in regard to the time that Jesus was crucified. Besides an eclipse could not have occurred within two weeks of a Passover, on the occurrence of which he is declared to have been executed. Farrar says: "It could have been no darkness of any natural eclipse, for the Paschal moon was at the full" (Life of Christ, p. 505). Geikie says: "It is impossible to explain the origin of this darkness. The Passover moon was then at the full, so that it could not have been an eclipse. The earlier fathers, relying on a notice of an eclipse that seemed to coincide in time, though it really did not, fancied that the darkness was caused by it, but incorrectly" (Life of Christ, Vol. ii, p. 624, Notes). "The celebrated passage of Phlegon," says Gibbon, "is now wisely abandoned" (Rome, Vol. i, p. 589, Note). 371 Was the veil of the temple rent, as our Gospel of Matthew declares? The Gospel of Matthew, it is affirmed, originally appeared in Hebrew, St. Jerome, who had this original version, says: "In that Gospel which is written in Hebrew letters, we read, not that the veil of the temple was rent, but that a lintel (or beam) of a prodigious size fell down." Commenting on this alleged prodigy, the rending of the veil, Strauss says: "Now the object of the divine Providence in effecting such a miracle could only have been this: to produce in the Jewish contemporaries of Jesus a deep impression of the importance of his death, and to furnish the first promulgators of the gospel with a fact to which they might appeal in support of their cause. But, as Schleiermacher has shown, nowhere else in the New Testament, either in the apostolic epistles or in Acts, or even in the Epistle to the Hebrews, in connection with the subject of which it could scarcely fail to be suggested, is this event mentioned: on the contrary, with the exception of this bare Synoptical notice, every trace of it is lost; which could scarcely have been the case if it had really formed a ground of apostolical argument. Thus the divine purpose in ordaining this miracle must have totally failed, or, since this is inconceivable, it cannot have been ordained for this object--in other words, since neither any other object of the miracle, nor yet a mode in which the event might happen naturally can be discovered, it cannot have happened at all" (Leben Jesu, p. 789). 372 Matthew declares that the dead arose on the day of the crucifixion. When did they come out of their graves? Not until after Christ's resurrection, which did not occur until the following week. "And many bodies of the saints which slept arose, and came out of the graves after his resurrection" (Matt. xxvii, 52, 53). "They were polite enough to sit in their open graves and wait for Christ to rise first."--Ingersoll. 373 From what source was Matthew's story regarding these marvelous events derived? From Zechariah: "And his feet shall stand in that day upon the Mount of Olives, which is before Jerusalem on the East, and the Mount of Olives shall cleave in the midst thereof ... and half of the mountain shall remove toward the North, and half of it toward the South.... Ye shall flee, like as ye fled from before the earthquake in the days of Uzziah King of Judah; and the Lord my God shall come, and all the saints with thee. And it shall come to pass in that day, that the light shall not be clear" (xiv, 4-6). Concerning this Dr. Wise says: "God who comes, according to Zachariah, to fight for Jerusalem, will stand upon Mount Olivet. Therefore, Jesus, during his fight against Pharisees, Sadducees and priests, had to make his principal home on Mount Olivet. But he could not split the mountain, as Zachariah imagined God would, and move one part North and the other South; therefore, the curtain of the temple had to be torn in twain when Jesus died, although none has ever mentioned the fact. The curtain was there some thirty-five years after the death of Jesus; had it been torn, somebody must have noticed it. The earthquake mentioned by Zachariah, of course, was borrowed to embellish Calvary.... Because Zachariah states God coming to Jerusalem, 'And the Lord my God cometh, all the saints with thee,' therefore the saints and not the sinners had to resurrect and visit the city on that particular day. But in the fertile imagination of Zachariah, the day of that terrible combat must be dark.... This darkness was transported over to Calvary to embellish the scene.... So these miracles were not wrought, but the entire outer embellishment of Calvary is taken from Zachariah; not because it was believed this prophecy referred to Jesus, but simply because the evangelical writers were incompetent to invent original poetry" (Martyrdom of Jesus, p. 116). 374 What request did the Jews make of Pilate concerning Jesus and the malefactors? John: They "besought Pilate that their legs might be broken" (xix, 31). This punishment, known as crurifragium, was a distinct mode of execution and was never united with crucifixion. Crucifixion, we have seen, was not employed to punish theft. Neither was crurifragium. Yet we are asked to believe that both modes of execution, two of the cruelest forms of punishment, were combined to punish these offenders. The Synoptics do not mention this punishment. 375 When the soldiers broke the legs of the thieves, why did they spare those of Jesus? John: "That the scripture should be fulfilled, A bone of him shall not be broken" (xix, 36). This refers to Exodus xii, 46, and relates to the disposition to be made of the lamb used at the Passover. Nearly the entire chapter from which John quotes is devoted to this subject. Among other things it states that "They shall eat the flesh in that night, ... his head with his legs, and with the purtenance thereof. And ye shall let nothing of it remain until the morning" (8-10). If a part of this prophecy was fulfilled, may not all of it have been fulfilled? And if all of it was fulfilled, will not this account for the empty sepulchre? Regarding the failure of the soldiers to break the legs of Jesus, as ordered, "Supernatural Religion" says: "An order having been given to the Roman soldiers, in accordance with the request of the Jews, to break the legs of the crucified, we are asked to believe that they did not execute it in the case of Jesus. It is not reasonable to suppose, however, that Roman soldiers either were in the habit of disregarding their orders, or could have any motive for doing so in this case, and subjecting themselves to the severe punishment for disobedience inflicted by Roman military law. It is argued that they saw that Jesus was already dead, and, therefore, that it was not necessary to break his legs; but soldiers are not in the habit of thinking in this way; they are disciplined to obey" (p. 993). 376 What demand was made by the Jews on the evening of the crucifixion? John: That their bodies be taken down from the cross (xix, 31). John was evidently familiar with the Mosaic law (Deut. xxi, 22, 23) which, in cases of hanging, enjoined the burial of the body on the day of execution, but seemingly ignorant of the Roman law under which they were executed, which, in cases of crucifixion, prohibited burial, requiring the body to remain upon the cross until decayed, or birds and beasts had devoured it. The Jews esteemed it sinful to allow a criminal to "remain all night upon the tree;" but the Jewish law was inapplicable to the Roman mode of punishment which presupposed that the criminal would remain on the cross several days and nights before death ensued. 377 What additional reason was there for having the bodies taken down? Mark: "Because it was the preparation, that is, the day before the Sabbath" (xv, 42). The Sabbath began at sunset on the day that he is declared to have been crucified. The Jewish law would not permit his body, whether dead or alive, to be exposed on the Sabbath. Crucifixion, as we have seen, was a lingering death; several days usually elapsing before the victim expired. Now, is it reasonable to suppose that the Jews would demand, as claimed, a punishment lasting several days when they knew that he must be taken down from the cross in a few hours? 378 What did Pilate do when Joseph solicited the body of Jesus? Mark: "Pilate marveled if he were already dead" (xv, 44). Why should Pilate marvel if he were already dead when previous to this, according to John (xix, 31-33), he had, at the request of the Jews, ordered his soldiers to dispatch him if alive and take his body away? 379 Were the disciples present at the crucifixion? John: They were, or one, at least (xix, 26). According to the Synoptics, all were absent; all had forsaken their Master, all had fled. The Twelve Apostles at this time, unless Judas had already hung himself, as Matthew declares, numbered one traitor and eleven cowards. 380 What women followed Jesus and witnessed his execution? Matthew and Mark: Women of Galilee (Matt. xxvii, 55; Mark xv, 40, 41). Luke: "Daughters of Jerusalem," that is, women of Judea (xxiii, 28). 381 Where were Mary Magdalene and her companions during the crucifixion? Matthew and Mark: "Looking on afar off" (Mark xv, 40; Matt. xxvii, 55, 56). John: They "stood by the cross" (xix, 25). 382 Was Mary, the mother of Jesus, present? John: She was (xix, 25). Synoptics: She was not. The Synoptics do not expressly state that she was absent, but if she was present, as John affirms, is it possible that they would ignore the fact when they mention "the strolling Magdalene" no less than seven times? 383 Who stood by the cross with the mother of Jesus? John: "Now there stood by the cross of Jesus his mother, and his mother's sister, Mary, the wife of Cleophas" (xix, 25). Mary must have been a very popular name to be given to two daughters of the same family. It is not probable that these sisters were both named Mary. John never mentions the name of Jesus' mother, and it is evident that he did not suppose her name was Mary. Were John the only Gospel, Christians would be ignorant of the Virgin's name. Mariolatry did not originate in the Johannine church. 384 To whom was entrusted the care of Jesus' mother? John: "When Jesus therefore saw his mother, and the disciple standing by whom he loved [John], he saith unto his mother, Woman, behold thy son! Then saith he to the disciple, Behold thy mother! And from that hour that disciple took her unto his own house" (xix, 26, 27). "The teacher who had been to him as a brother leaves to him a brother's duty. He is to be as a son to the mother who is left desolate."--Bible Dictionary. Very touchingly expressed. But why was this duty imposed upon John when the Apostle James (the Less) was a brother of Jesus and a son of Mary? Was he a worthless ingrate, unable and unwilling to care for her? And what of Joses, and Juda, and Simon, and her daughters who remained at home? Had they turned their mother out of doors? 385 In whose sepulcher was the body of Jesus placed? Matthew: Joseph "laid it in his own new tomb which he had hewn out in the rock" (xxvii, 60). John: "Now in the place where he was crucified there was a garden; and in the garden a new sepulcher, wherein was never man yet laid. There laid they Jesus therefore because of the Jew's preparation day; for the sepulcher was nigh at hand" (xix, 41, 42). It is evident from John that the sepulcher did not belong to Joseph, but that it was one which happened to be convenient to the place of crucifixion; for, as Strauss justly argues: "The vicinity of the grave, when alleged as a motive, excludes the fact of possession." 386 Was his body embalmed when it was laid in the sepulcher? John: It was. "He [Joseph] came therefore, and took the body of Jesus. And there came also Nicodemus, which at the first came to Jesus by night, and brought a mixture of myrrh and aloes, about an hundred pound weight. Then took they the body of Jesus, and wound it in linen clothes with the spices, as the manner of the Jews is to bury" (xix, 38-40). Mark and Luke: It was not embalmed. "The women also, which came with him from Galilee, followed after, and beheld the sepulcher, and how his body was laid. And they returned, and prepared spices and ointments" (Luke xxiii, 55, 56); intending to embalm it "when the Sabbath was past" (Mark xvi, 1). 387 What is said in regard to wrapping the body of Jesus by Joseph? Mark: "He bought fine linen, and took him down, and wrapped him in the linen" (xv, 46). This statement is rejected by critics. A member of the Sanhedrim would not desecrate the Passover by making a purchase on it. 388 What was the amount of the material used in embalming Jesus? John: A hundred pounds (xix, 39). This was sufficient to embalm a dozen bodies. Yet after seeing his body literally buried in the material, the women, we are told, procured more. 389 When did the women procure materials for embalming Jesus? Luke: "They returned, and prepared spices and ointments; and rested the Sabbath Day" (xxiii, 56). Mark (New Ver.): "And when the Sabbath was past, Mary Magdalene and Mary the mother of James, and Salome, bought spices that they might come and anoint him" (xvi, 1). According to Luke they prepared the spices before the Sabbath began, that is, before the end of the sixth day; according to Mark, they did not procure them until "the Sabbath was past," that is, not until the beginning of the first day. 390 When did they go to embalm the body? Mark and Luke: "When the Sabbath was past, ... the first day of the week" (Mark xvi, 1, 2; Luke xxiv, 1). Is it reasonable to suppose that in that warm spring climate (Dr. Geikie speaks of the fierce heat that prevailed at the time), they would let a wounded body lie two days, until decomposition had commenced, and then attempt to embalm it? 391 When was the sepulcher closed? All: When the body was placed in it (Matt. xxvii, 60; Mark xv, 46; Luke xxiii, 53, xxiv, 1, 2; John xix, 41, 42, xx, 1). According to the Evangelists, the stone was rolled to the door of the sepulcher as soon as the body was deposited, and according to Mark and Luke, the women were troubled as to who should roll away the stone when they went to embalm the body. In sepulture of this kind, the tomb was not closed until the third day, and when once closed it was not to be opened. This deviation from the customary mode is evidently for the purpose of establishing faith in the doctrine of the resurrection, by shutting off all means of escape or removal without supernatural aid. The Evangelists are particular to state that Joseph "rolled a great stone to the door." In a single paragraph, Scribner's "Bible Dictionary" concedes no less than seven Synoptical errors regarding the trial, crucifixion and burial of Jesus: "The Synoptists make the Sanhedrim say beforehand that they will not arrest Jesus 'on the feast day,' and then actually arrest him on that day; that not only the guards, but one of the disciples carries arms, which on the feast day was not allowed; that the trial was also held on the feast day, which would be unlawful; that the feast day would not be called 'Preparation'; that the phrase 'coming from the field' (Mk. xv, 21) means properly 'coming from work'; that Joseph of Arimathea is represented as buying a linen cloth (Mk. xv, 46), and the women as preparing spices and ointments (Lk. xxiii, 56), all of which would be contrary to law and custom." 392 In what year was Jesus crucified? Not one of the Evangelists knows. They agree that he was crucified during the time that Pontius Pilate was procurator of Judea, and Joseph Caiaphas was high priest of the Jews. But this, so far as Matthew, Mark and John are concerned, may have been any time from 26 to 36 A. D. Luke, while he does not state the particular year, nor furnish data for determining it, is more definite. He says that Jesus began his ministry in "the fifteenth year of the reign of Tiberius Caesar," and his narrative clearly implies that he was crucified at the following Passover. Tiberius commenced his reign in August, 14 A. D. The fifteenth year of his reign, then, extended from August, 28 A. D., to August, 29 A. D. If Jesus began his ministry during the first months of this year, he might have been crucified as early as the spring of 29. But it is generally conceded that the time which this would allow for his ministry was far too brief, and that he could not have been crucified before 30 A. D. The Christian Fathers who, for the most part, accepted the tradition of Luke and affirmed that his ministry lasted but one year, or less, held that the crucifixion occurred in 29 A. D. Scribner's "Bible Dictionary" gives preference to 29 A. D. Cuthbert Hamilton Turner, M.A., Oxford, the New Testament chronologist of that work, after a lengthy review of the subject, says: "To sum up briefly, the separate results of five lines of enquiry harmonize with one another beyond expectation, so that each in turn supplies fresh security for the rest. The nativity in B. C. 7-6; the age of our Lord at the baptism, 30 years, more or less; the baptism in A. D. 26 (26-27); the duration of the ministry between two and three years; the crucifixion in A. D. 29." This authority states that his ministry lasted two or three years. It was necessary to do this or reject John. By taking a year or more from John's ministry of Jesus and adding it to the one year ministry of the Synoptics--by assuming that the Synoptics omit to mention one or more Passovers, and that one of the Passovers mentioned by John was some other feast--it pretends to have reconciled the discrepancy regarding the length of Christ's ministry. But if his ministry lasted two or three years, as affirmed, he could not have been crucified in 29 A. D. With orthodox commentators, a favorite method of reconciling Old Testament dates, as I have noted in a previous work, is to assume that a king, concerning the date of whose accession, or length of reign, a discrepancy appears, reigned in consort with his predecessor for a number of years sufficient to cover the discrepancy. This dishonest method of explanation--for it is a dishonest trick, intended to deceive the reader and hide from him an error--has been employed to reconcile Luke and John. By assuming that Tiberius divided the government with Augustus for two years preceding his accession to the throne, an assumption for which there is no credible authority, and that Luke accordingly reckons the fifteenth year from 12 A. D., instead of 14 A. D., when he really became emperor, it is possible to give Jesus a ministry of two or three years and still have him crucified in 29 A. D. But another irreconcilable difficulty remains. The Synoptics state that he was crucified on the Passover and on the day preceding the Sabbath, that is, on Friday. If so, he could not have been crucified in 29 A. D., for the Passover did not fall on Friday that year. Dr. Farrar says it is "highly probable that the crucifixion took place at the passover of March, 30 A. D." Justice Bradley of the United States Supreme Court, who made an exhaustive examination of all the evidence and arguments bearing on the question, decided in favor of 30 A. D. He says: "There were only three years from A. D. 27 to A. D. 36, inclusive, in which the 1st of Nisan, and consequently the 15th of Nisan, happened on Friday, and these were A. D. 27, 30 and 33, the last of which is very doubtful. But the crucifixion could not have happened before A. D. 28, and probably not later than A. D. 31. Therefore the year 30 is the only one which satisfies all the conditions of the problem.... Now, since in A. D. 30, the 1st of Nisan fell on Friday, the 24th of March, the 15th fell on Friday, the 7th of April, which was the day of the crucifixion." Dr. Farrar and Justice Bradley are agreed in regard to the year of the crucifixion, but they are not agreed in regard to the calendar month in which it occurred. Dr. Farrar says it occurred in March; Justice Bradley says it occurred in April. Justice Bradley says that 30 A. D. satisfies all the conditions. It does satisfy the conditions of the Synoptics, but it does not satisfy the conditions of John, as claimed. To satisfy the conditions of John it is necessary to adopt the untenable hypothesis of 12 A. D. as the date of Tiberius Caesar's accession. But whatever satisfies the conditions of John must necessarily conflict with those of the Synoptics. Some Christian scholars place the crucifixion in 31 A. D., others in 32 A. D. But neither year can be harmonized with the Synoptics' statement that he was put to death on the Passover, or with John's that he suffered on the day of Preparation. Neither can they be harmonized with either the Synoptics or John in regard to the duration of his ministry. It is probable that a majority of Christian scholars today believe that Jesus was crucified in 33. Renan accepted this date. He says: "According to the calculation we adopt, the death of Jesus happened in the year 33 of our era. It could not, at all events, be either before the year 29, the preaching of John and Jesus having commenced in the year 28, or after 35, since in the year 36, and probably before the Passover, Pilate and Kaiapha both lost their offices." The adoption of 33 allows for the four years' ministry ascribed to Jesus by John, but it cannot be reconciled with the brief ministry ascribed to him by the Synoptics. As for Renan, who in the first edition of his "Jesus" accepted the authenticity of John, but subsequently rejected it and accepted only the Synoptics, he has no Evangelistic authority for 33. The Dutch theologians, Kuenen, Oort and Hooykaas, and many other Rationalists, give 35 A. D. the preference. To accept this year, however, it is necessary to reject the Passover crucifixion, and to assign to Jesus a much longer ministry than even John assigns. Of one hundred Christian authorities who attempt to name the year in which Christ was crucified, twenty-three say 29, eighteen 30, nine 31, seven 32, thirty-seven 33, and six 35 A. D. Thus it will be seen that not a year that can be named can be harmonized with the accounts of the crucifixion given in the four gospels. The result is that there is as great a lack of agreement in regard to the time of Christ's death as there is in regard to the time of his birth. Christians do not know when he was born, they do not know when he died, they cannot prove that he lived. 393 On what day of the month was he crucified? Synoptics: On the 15th of Nisan. John: On the 14th of Nisan. This discrepancy is conceded by Scribner's "Bible Dictionary." It says: "It is the Last Supper which the Synoptics appear to fix by identifying it with the Passover. They say expressly that on the morning of the 'first day of unleavened bread, when they sacrificed the passover' (Mk. xiv, 12), the disciples asked where the Passover was to be eaten. This would be on the morning of Nisan 14. In the evening, which from twilight onwards would belong to Nisan 15, would follow the Last Supper, and on the next afternoon (still, on the Jewish reckoning, Nisan 15) the crucifixion. St. John, on the other hand, by a number of clear indications (John xiii, 1, xviii, 28, xix, 14, 31) implies that the Last Supper was eaten before the time of the regular Passover, and that the Lord suffered on the afternoon of Nisan 14, about the time of the slaying of the Paschal lamb. We are thus left with a conflict of testimony." 394 On what day of the week was he crucified? Synoptics: On Friday. John: On Thursday. The Synoptics agree that he was crucified on the day following the Preparation, that is, on the day of the Passover, and the day preceding the Sabbath. As the Jewish Sabbath fell on Saturday, he was, therefore, crucified on Friday. John repeatedly declares that his trial and crucifixion occurred on "the preparation of the passover." If the Passover occurred on Friday, as the Synoptics state, he was crucified on the preceding day, or Thursday. It is claimed by some, though the claim is disputed, that the Synoptics are in error, that the Passover was never held on Friday. 395 On what day of the feast did the crucifixion occur? Synoptics: On the Passover. John: On the day of Preparation. It is expressly stated in the Synoptics that he celebrated the Passover before his death. "Then came the day of unleavened bread, when the passover must be killed. And he sent Peter and John, saying, Go and prepare us the passover, that we may eat.... And they made ready the passover. And when the hour was come, he sat down, and the twelve apostles with him. And he said unto them, With desire I have desired to eat this passover with you before I suffer" (Luke xxii, 7-15; Matt. xxvi, 17-20; Mark xiv, 12-18). The author of the Fourth Gospel declares that the Last Supper was not the Paschal meal, and that Jesus was crucified on the day preceding the Passover, that is, on the day of Preparation. He refers to the events connected with the Last Supper as having taken place "before the passover" (xiii, 1); after supper, when Jesus bade Judas do quickly what he proposed to do, he states that the disciples "thought because Judas had the bag, that Jesus had said unto him, Buy those things that we have need of against the feast" (xiii, 29); at the trial, he says, the Jews "themselves went not into the judgment hall, lest they might be defiled, but that they might eat the passover" (xviii, 28); when Pilate is about to deliver him up to be crucified, he even goes out of the way to repeat that "It was the preparation of the passover" (xix, 14). This discrepancy is not, like many other Bible discrepancies, an unintentional error. It represents a conflict between two dogmas. The primitive church was rent with dissensions regarding this question, some contending that Christ suffered on the 14th Nisan, others that it was on the 15th. During the second century--the century in which our gospels appeared--this controversy was especially bitter. According to John (i, 29, xix, 33, 36) Jesus was the Paschal Lamb, and as such, must be slain on the day of Preparation. The slaying of the lambs began at three o'clock in the afternoon, the hour at which Jesus is said to have expired. The Synoptics, on the other hand, in order to enable him to partake of the Paschal meal and institute the Eucharist, which is a survival and perpetuation of the Passover, must prolong his existence until after this meal, and consequently his crucifixion cannot take place until the following day. It was impossible for him to be the Paschal Lamb and at the same time partake of the Paschal meal. This necessarily produced a schism. The Fourth Gospel was written in support of the one side, the Synoptics in support of the other. It is declared by the most eminent fathers of the second century that the Apostle John, whom some of them had known, was accustomed to observe the Paschal meal. This is another argument against the Johannine authorship of the Fourth Gospel. Referring to the Lord's Supper, as recorded in John, the "Bible for Learners" says: "It was not the Paschal meal. The Passover did not begin until the following evening; for he himself who was the true Paschal Lamb, and as such made an end of all sacrifices, must be put to death at the very day and hour ordained for the slaughter of the lamb--not twenty-four hours later as the Synoptic Gospels say" (Vol. iii, p. 684). Admitting the discrepancy, but without determining which is correct, Smith's "Bible Dictionary" says: "The crowning application of the Paschal rites to the truths of which they were the shadowy promises appears to be that which is afforded by the fact that our Lord's death occurred during the festival. According to the Divine purpose, the true Lamb of God was slain at nearly the same time as 'the Lord's Passover,' in obedience to the letter of the law." It was not "according to the Divine purpose" that Jesus was slain at the Passover, but it was according to a human invention that he is declared to have been slain at this time. These attempts to connect the crucifixion with the Passover afford the strongest proof that it is a myth. 396 What led to the arrest and crucifixion of Jesus? John: His miracle of raising Lazarus from the dead. On learning of it the Jewish council met, and "from that day forth they took counsel together for to put him to death" (xi, 47, 53). This is more difficult to believe than the miracle itself. It is the most improbable statement ever penned--the one that does most violence to human reason. The crudest savages on earth would not have slain nor even harmed a man who had proved himself the Conqueror and King of Death. 397 What did Christ say during his ministry concerning the cross? "He that taketh not his cross, and followeth after me is not worthy of me" (Matthew x, 38; Luke xiv, 27). "Whosoever will come after me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross, and follow me" (Mark viii, 34). "If any man will come after me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross daily and follow me" (Luke ix, 23). These utterances are alleged to have been made early in his ministry. Now, the cross as a Christian symbol is supposed to have been adopted after, and not until after, the crucifixion. Its introduction in the passages quoted suggests one of two things: either that the Synoptics put into the mouth of Jesus words that he never uttered, or that the cross, as a religious symbol, was used before the crucifixion, in which case its adoption by the church is no proof of the crucifixion. 398 The so-called historical books of the New Testament, the Four Gospels and the Acts of the Apostles, declare that Christ was crucified. Do the remaining books of the New Testament confirm it? In the first four Pauline Epistles, known as the genuine Epistles of Paul, the verb crucify--crucified appears in ten different texts, as follows: "Knowing this, that our old man is crucified with him, that the body of sin might be destroyed" (Romans vi, 6). "Is Christ divided? Was Paul crucified for you?" (1 Corinthians, i, 13.) "But we preach Christ crucified, unto the Jews a stumbling block, and unto the Greeks foolishness" (23). "For I determined not to know any thing among you, save Jesus Christ, and him crucified" (ii, 2). "For had they known it, they would not have crucified the Lord of glory" (8). "For though he was crucified through weakness, yet he liveth by the power of God" (2 Corinthians xiii, 4). "I am crucified with Christ" (Galatians ii, 20). "O foolish Galatians, who hath bewitched you, that ye should not obey the truth, before whose eyes Jesus Christ hath been evidently set forth, crucified among you?" (iii, 1.) "And they that are Christ's have crucified the flesh with the affections and lusts" (v, 24). "But God forbid that I should glory, save in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ, by whom the world is crucified unto me, and I unto the world" (vi, 14). Webster defines this word as follows: "1. To nail to a cross; to put to death by nailing the hands and feet to a cross or gibbet, sometimes, anciently, by fastening a criminal to a tree with cords. 2. In scriptural language, to subdue; to mortify; to destroy the power or ruling influence of. 3. To reject and despise. 4. To vex or torment." The first, only, denotes a physical crucifixion, which, it is claimed, Christ suffered. The word, as used by Paul, in most instances, clearly denotes a crucifying of the passions and carnal pleasures, and the exceptions, when taken in connection with Paul's well known teachings, and allowing for the probable corruption of the original text, do not confirm the Evangelistic accounts of the crucifixion. Besides this it is admitted that Paul did not witness the crucifixion, and that these Epistles, even if authentic, were not written until nearly thirty years after it is said to have occurred. In the eighteen books which follow, the word crucify appears but twice--in Hebrews (vi, 6) and in Revelation (xi, 8). The word crucifixion does not appear once in the Bible. Concerning the books we have been considering in this criticism, Paine writes as follows: "Whether the fourteen epistles ascribed to Paul were written by him or not, is a matter of indifference; they are either argumentative or dogmatical; and as the argument is defective and the dogmatical part is merely presumptive, it signifies not who wrote them. And the same may be said for the remaining parts of the Testament. It is not upon the Epistles, but upon what is called the Gospel, contained in the four books ascribed to Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John, and upon the pretended prophecies, that the theory of the church calling itself the Christian Church is founded. The Epistles are dependent upon those, and must follow their fate; for if the story of Jesus Christ be fabulous, all reasoning founded upon it as a supposed truth must fall with it" (Age of Reason). 399 How old was Jesus at the time of his death? Luke: He was but little more than thirty years old. John: He was nearly fifty. In a controversy with the Jews, during his ministry, he said: "Your father Abraham rejoiced to see my day: and he saw, and was glad. Then said the Jews unto him, Thou art not yet fifty years old, and hast thou seen Abraham?" (viii, 56, 57.) This implies that he was nearly fifty at this time. Discussing the question of Jesus' age, St. Irenaeus, the most renowned of the early Christian Fathers, and the founder of the New Testament canon, who lived in the century immediately following Jesus, says: "He [Christ] came to save all through means of himself--all I say, who through him are born again to God--infants and children, and boys, and youths, and old men. He therefore passed through every age; becoming an infant for infants, thus sanctifying infants; a child for children, thus sanctifying those who are of this age, being at the same time made to them an example of piety, righteousness and submission; a youth for youths, becoming an example to youths, and thus sanctifying them for the Lord. So likewise, he was an old man for old men, that he might be a perfect master for all; not merely as respects the setting forth of the truth, but also as regards age; sanctifying at the same time, the aged also, and becoming an example to them likewise. Then, at last, he came on to death itself, that he might be the first born from the dead, that in all things he might have the pre-eminence; the Prince of Life, existing before all, and going before all" (Against Heresies, Book iv, ch. xxii, sec. 4). Commenting on the passage quoted from John, Irenaeus says: "But besides this, those very Jews who thus disputed with the Lord Jesus Christ, have most closely indicated the same thing. For when the Lord said to them, 'Your father Abraham rejoiced to see my day, and he saw it, and was glad;' they answered him, 'Thou art not yet fifty years old; and hast thou seen Abraham?' Now, such language is fittingly applied to one who has already passed the age of forty, without having yet reached his fiftieth year, yet is not far from this latter period. But to one who is only thirty years old, it would unquestionably be said, 'Thou art not yet forty years old.' For those who wished to convict him of falsehood, would certainly not extend the number of his years far beyond the age which they saw he had attained.... It is altogether unreasonable to suppose that they were mistaken by twenty years, when they wished to prove him younger than the times of Abraham.... He did not then want much of being fifty years old" (Ibid. sec. 6). Nor did Irenaeus depend upon the Fourth Gospel alone for his authority. He was the companion of the aged Polycarp, whom Christians claim to have been the companion of the Apostle John. Concerning the testimony of Polycarp and others, he writes: "Those who were conversant in Asia with John, the disciple of the Lord, [testify] that John conveyed to them that information. And he (John) remained among them up to the times of Tragan. Some of them, moreover, saw not only John, but the other apostles also, and heard the same account from them, and bear testimony to the statement" (Ib., sec. 5). In regard to this testimony of the "divine Irenaeus," as he is called, Godfrey Higgins says: "The church has been guilty of the oversight of letting this passage from Irenaeus escape. One of the earliest, most respected, and most quoted of its ancient bishops, saints and martyrs, tells us in distinct words that Jesus was not crucified under Herod and Pontius Pilate, but that he lived to be turned fifty years of age. This he tells us on the authority of his master, St. Polycarp, also a martyr, who had it from St. John himself, and from all the old people of Asia" (Anacalypsis). Of this testimony and its consequences, Judge Waite, in his "History of Christianity" (pp. 329, 330) says: "It must be remembered that Irenaeus had been a companion of Polycarp and others who had seen John, and that he was speaking of what had come to his personal knowledge from the elders in Asia. If, then, Irenaeus tells the truth, the evidence in favor of the fact is almost overwhelming. If, on the other hand, he would deliberately falsify in a matter of this importance, what is his testimony worth as to the origin of the four gospels? Against this evidence, we have only the silence of the gospels. But if the silence of the Synoptics is consistent with a ministry of three or four years, why is not the further silence of all the gospels consistent with a ministry of twenty years? "How would such a theory affect the received chronology concerning Christ? The date of the crucifixion at not later than A. D. 36, or when Christ was, by the received chronology, forty years old, is settled by the fact, that in that year, Pontius Pilate was removed from his government.... If, then, it be accepted as a historical fact that Christ was about fifty years old at this crucifixion, the date of his birth would have to be set back at least ten years." Every line of these accounts of the trial and crucifixion of Christ bears the ineffaceable stamp of fiction. There was no Christ to crucify, and Jesus of Nazareth, if he existed, was not crucified as claimed. For more than fifteen centuries an inoffensive, industrious and moral people have been persecuted, robbed and butchered by Christians, because their forefathers are said to have slain a mythical God. Supposing that from the myth of Prometheus had sprung a popular religion, which, in its day, had, like the religions of Osiris, Bacchus, Krishna and Christ, overspread the earth. Then think of the devotees of this religion massacring the Hellenists because Zeus had crucified Prometheus! How long must our mythology, with all its attendant evils, rule and curse the world? How long must an innocent people suffer for an alleged crime that was never committed? CHAPTER VII. THE RESURRECTION OF CHRIST. 400 How long did Jesus say he would remain in the grave? "For as Jonas was three days and three nights in the whale's belly; so shall the Son of Man be three days and three nights in the heart of the earth" (Matthew xii, 40). How long did he remain in the grave? Synoptics: Being buried on Friday evening, and having risen on or before Sunday morning, he was in the grave, at the most, but two nights and one day. 401 What occurred on the morning of the resurrection? Matthew: "There was a great earthquake" (xxviii, 2). The other Evangelists know nothing of this earthquake. They not only omit it, but their accounts of the resurrection preclude the possibility of its occurrence. 402 Who were the first to visit the tomb on the morning of the resurrection? John: "Mary Magdalene" (xx, 1). Matthew: "Mary Magdalene and the other Mary" (xxviii, 1). Mark: "Mary Magdalene, and Mary the mother of James, and Salome" (xvi, 1, 2). Luke: "Mary Magdalene, and Joanna, and Mary the mother of James, and other women" (xxiv, 1-10). 403 Who was Salome? "The wife of Zebedee, as appears from comparing Matt. xxvii, 56, with Mark xv, 40."--Smith's Bible Dictionary. Matthew says that the women who witnessed the crucifixion were "Mary Magdalene, and Mary the mother of James and Joses, and the mother of Zebedee's children." Mark says the women were "Mary Magdalene, and Mary the mother of James the less and of Joses, and Salome." This is a discrepancy that can be reconciled only by supposing that the mother of Zebedee's children (James and John) was Salome. But the Gospel of the Egyptians, older than either Matthew or Mark, and accepted by early Christians as authentic, states that Salome was a single woman. 404 At what time in the morning did the women visit the tomb? Mark: "At the rising of the sun" (xvi, 2). John: "When it was yet dark" (xx, 1). If they came "at the rising of the sun," or "when the sun was risen" (New Ver.), it was not yet dark. 405 When does Matthew say they came? "In the end of the Sabbath as it began to dawn toward the first day of the week" (xxviii, 1). If they came "in the end of the Sabbath," and Jesus had already risen, then his resurrection took place, not on the first day of the week, as claimed, but on the seventh day. Matthew was a Jew; yet the author of this Gospel was seemingly ignorant of the Jewish method of computing time, according to which the Sabbath began and ended at sunset. He evidently supposed that the night preceding their visit to the tomb belonged to the seventh day, whereas it belonged to the first day. 406 Was the tomb open, or closed, when they came? Luke: "They found the stone rolled away from the sepulchre" (xxiv, 2). Matthew: The tomb was closed. The stone was not rolled from the door until after they came (xxviii, 1, 2). This, in the opinion of most critics, is the meaning of Matthew's language. 407 Whom did they meet at the tomb? Matthew: "The angel" (xxviii, 2-5). Mark: "A young man" (xvi, 5). Luke: "Two men" (xxiv, 4). John: "Two angels" (xx, 12). 408 Were these men or angels in the sepulchre or outside of it? Matthew: Outside of it (xxviii, 2). Mark, Luke and John: Inside of it (Mark xvi, 5; Luke xxiv, 3, 4; John xx, 11, 12). 409 Were they sitting or standing? Luke: Standing (xxiv, 4). Matthew, Mark and John: Sitting (Matt. xxviii, 2; Mark xvi, 1; John xx, 12). 410 What were the first words they spoke to the women? Matthew and Mark: "Be not affrighted" (Mark xvi, 6; Matt. xxviii, 5). Luke: "Why seek ye the living among the dead?" (xxiv, 5.) John: "Woman, why weepest thou?" (xx, 13.) 411 Did Mary Magdalene observe the divine messengers when she first came to the tomb? Synoptics: She did (Matt. xxviii, 1-5; Mark xvi, 1-5; Luke xxiv, 1-4). John: She did not (xx, 1, 2, 11, 12). 412 Who became frightened at the messengers? Matthew: "The keepers did shake, and became as dead men" (xxviii, 4). Mark and Luke: "They [the women] were affrighted" (Mark xvi, 5; Luke xxiv, 5). 413 What did the women do when they became frightened? Mark: "They went out quickly and fled" (xvi, 8). Luke: "They bowed down their faces to the earth" (xxiv, 5). 414 Did the women see Jesus? Matthew: They did. "As they went to tell his disciples, behold, Jesus met them" (xxviii, 9). Luke: They did not see him (xxiv). 415 Did the women tell the disciples what they had seen? Luke: They "returned from the sepulchre, and told all these things unto the eleven, and to all the rest" (xxiv, 9). Mark: "Neither said they anything to any man; for they were afraid" (xvi, 8). With these words the Gospel of Mark ends, the words that follow being an interpolation. In this appended passage Mary Magdalene is declared to have seen Jesus and informed them of it, but they "believed not." 416 How many disciples visited the tomb? Luke: But one, Peter (xxiv, 12). John: Two, Peter and John (xx, 3). 417 Who looked into the sepulchre and beheld the linen clothes? Luke: "Then arose Peter, and ran into the sepulchre; and stooping down, he beheld the linen clothes" (xxiv, 12). John: "So they ran both together; and the other disciple [John] did outrun Peter, and came first to the sepulchre. And he stooping down, and looking in, saw the linen clothes" (xx, 4, 5). 418 Did Peter enter into the sepulchre? John: He did. "Then cometh Simon Peter following him, and went into the sepulchre" (xx, 6). Luke: He did not. He looked into the sepulchre "and departed" (xxiv, 12). 419 State all of the appearances of Jesus mentioned by the Evangelists. Matthew. 1. To the two Marys (xxviii, 9). 2. To the eleven in Galilee (17). Mark. 1. To Mary Magdalene (xvi, 9). 2. To two of his disciples (12). 3. To the eleven at meat (14). The appearances of Jesus mentioned in Mark are all in the apocryphal supplement. The Gospel of Mark proper does not record a single appearance of Jesus. Luke. 1. To Cleopas and his companion (xxiv, 13-31). 2. To Simon (Peter) (34). 3. To the eleven and others (36). John. 1. To Mary Magdalene (xx, 14-18). 2. To ten (?) disciples (19-24). 3. To the eleven (26-29). 4. To Peter, John and others (xxi). The last chapter of this Gospel which contains the account of his fourth appearance, and which ascribes the authorship of the Gospel to the "beloved disciple" (John), is a forgery. No two of the Evangelists agree. No two of them are fully agreed in regard to a single appearance. Each not only omits the appearances mentioned by the others, but his narrative in nearly every instance excludes them. As Strauss says, "The designation of the locality in one excludes the appearances narrated by the rest; the determination of time in another leaves no space for the narratives of his fellow-evangelists; the enumeration of a third is given without any regard to the events reported by his predecessors; lastly, among several appearances recounted by various narrators, each claims to be the last, and yet has nothing in common with the others. Hence nothing but wilful blindness can prevent the perception that no one of the narrators knew and presupposed what another records." Referring to the different accounts of the resurrection given by the Evangelists, Dr. Westcott says: "They contain difficulties which it is impossible to explain with certainty" (Introduction to Study of Gospels, p. 329). Dr. Farrar makes the following admission: "Any one who will attentively read side by side the narratives of these appearances on the first day of the resurrection, will see that they have only been preserved for us in general, interblended, and scattered notices, which, in strict exactness, render it impossible, without many arbitrary suppositions, to produce from them a certain narrative of the order of events. The lacunae, the compressions, the variations, the actual differences, the subjectivity of the narrators as affected by spiritual revelations, render all harmonies at the best uncertain" (Life of Christ, vol. ii, p. 432, note). 420 State the appearances mentioned by Paul. 1. "He was seen of Cephas." 2. "Then of the twelve." 3. "After that, he was seen of above five hundred brethren at once." 4. "After that he was seen of James." 5. "Then of all the apostles." 6. "And last of all he was seen of me also." Paul says that his first appearance was to Peter. This contradicts all of the Evangelists. His next appearance, Paul declares, was to the twelve. But there were no twelve at this time; for Judas had deserted them and his successor had not been elected. Paul evidently knew nothing of the betrayal of Jesus by Judas. He says Jesus was seen by five hundred brethren at once. The Evangelists are all ignorant of this appearance, while the author of Acts states that there were but one hundred and twenty "brethren" in all, and even this number is considered too large by critics. He says that he appeared to James, an appearance of which the Evangelists know nothing. After this he states that he was seen of all the apostles. This is the only appearance mentioned by Paul which can be reconciled with any of the Evangelists, and this cannot be reconciled with all of them. "Last of all he was seen of me also." Paul's belief in the resurrection was based solely upon Jesus' supposed appearance to him; for the other alleged appearances he had rejected. Not until he imagined that he had seen Jesus did he believe that the disciples had seen him, and the appearance of Jesus to him, which occurred several years after the resurrection and ascension, is represented as an occurrence of exactly the same character as his appearances to the disciples. Paul's vision was clearly a delusion, and if so the other appearances, measured by Paul's criterion, were delusions also. The Rev. John W. Chadwick truly says: "Paul's witness to the resurrection is the ruin of the argument." 421 To whom did Jesus first appear? Matthew: To Mary Magdalene and the other Mary (xxviii, 1, 9). Mark and John: To Mary Magdalene alone (Mark xvi, 9; John xx, 14-18). Luke: To Cleopas and his companion (xxiv, 13-31). Paul: To Cephas (Peter) (1 Cor. xv, 5). 422 Where was Mary Magdalene when Jesus first appeared to her? John: At the sepulchre (xx, 11-14). Matthew: On her way home from the sepulchre (xxviii, 8, 9). 423 Did Mary know Jesus when he first appeared to her? Matthew: She did (xxviii, 9). John: "She ... knew not that it was Jesus" (xx, 14). 424 Was she permitted to touch him? Matthew: "They [Mary Magdalene and her companion] came and held him by the feet" (xxviii, 9). John: "Jesus saith unto her, Touch me not" (xx, 17). 425 Where did he appear to his disciples? Matthew: In Galilee. Luke: In Jerusalem. Matthew says that when Mary Magdalene and the other Mary visited the tomb an angel appeared to them and said: "Go quickly, and tell his disciples that he is risen from the dead; and, behold, he goeth before you into Galilee; there shall ye see him" (xxviii, 7). As they ran to convey this intelligence, Jesus himself met them and repeated the command: "Go tell my brethren that they go into Galilee, and there shall they see me" (10). "Then the eleven disciples went away into Galilee, into a mountain where Jesus had appointed them. And when they saw him they worshiped him" (16, 17). Luke (xxiv, 13-35) states that on the day of the resurrection Jesus journeyed to Emmaus, a village some distance from Jerusalem, with Cleopas and his companion. They did not recognize him until after their arrival there, when they returned at once to Jerusalem and informed the disciples. "As they thus spake Jesus himself stood in the midst of them" (36). He conversed with them for a time, after which "he led them out as far as to Bethany" where he took his final leave of them and ascended to heaven (38-51). Instead of bidding them go to Galilee, a three days journey from Jerusalem, as Matthew states, his command was "Tarry ye in the city of Jerusalem, until ye be endued with power from on high," which, according to Acts (ii, 1-13), was not until the day of Pentecost, seven weeks later. Matthew's narrative forbids the supposition of any meeting in Judea, while Luke's precludes the possibility of a meeting in Galilee. Regarding this discrepancy Dean Alford says: "We must be content to walk by faith, and not by sight" (Greek Testament, p. 905). 426 How far from Jerusalem was Emmaus, where Jesus made his first appearance? Luke: "Which was from Jerusalem about threescore furlongs" (xxiv, 13). Threescore furlongs was seven and one-half Roman, or about seven American miles. Emmaus of Judea was about twenty-five miles, or two hundred furlongs from Jerusalem. There was an Emmaus in Galilee, about seventy miles from Jerusalem. It is believed by some that the legend related to the latter place and was subsequently transferred by Luke to Judea. 427 How many disciples were present when he first appeared to them? Matthew and Luke: Eleven (Matt. xxviii, 16, 17; Luke xxiv, 33-36). John: But ten, Thomas being absent (xx, 19-24). Paul: Twelve (1 Cor. xv, 5). 428 What effect had his presence when he first appeared to them? Luke: "They were terrified and affrighted" (xxiv, 36, 37). John: "Then were the disciples glad, when they saw the Lord" (xx, 20). 429 How many of the disciples doubted the reality of his appearance? Matthew: "Some doubted" (xxviii, 17). John: But one doubted--Thomas (xx, 24, 25). 430 Were they all finally convinced of his resurrection? John: They were. Matthew: They were not. 431 When he appeared to them did they know that he must rise from the dead? John: "For as yet they knew not that he must rise from the dead" (xx, 9). This cannot be reconciled with the Synoptics, who state that during his ministry he had acquainted them with it. "From that time forth began Jesus to shew unto his disciples how that he must go unto Jerusalem, and suffer many things of the elders and chief priests and scribes, and be killed, and be raised again the third day" (Matthew xvi, 21; Mark viii, 31; Luke ix, 22). 432 Paul says that the last appearance of Jesus was to him. What did his companions do when they saw the light which attended the appearance? Acts: "The men which journeyed with him stood speechless" (ix, 7). Paul: "We were all fallen to the earth" (Acts xxvi, 14). 433 Did Paul's companions see Jesus? Acts: They did not. "The men which journeyed with him stood speechless, hearing a voice, but seeing no man" (ix, 7). This shows that Jesus' alleged appearance to Paul was an imaginary and not a real appearance. 434 The author of Acts says that his companions heard a voice. Is this true? Paul: "They that were with me ... heard not the voice" (Acts xxii, 9). 435 Was Jesus seen by woman after his resurrection? Matthew, Mark and John: He was. Luke and Paul: He was not. According to Luke and Paul his most faithful followers were not honored by a visit from their Lord, but were neglected and ignored. The resurrection was not for woman. Nowhere is sex prejudice more conspicuous than in the accounts of the resurrection written by Paul and the Pauline Evangelist. To ignore the testimony of Mary Magdalene is to ignore the testimony of the chief witness for the resurrection. 436 From where did Jesus rise? All: From the dead. "He is risen from the dead" (Matt. xxviii, 7). "It behooved Christ to suffer, and to rise from the dead" (Luke xxiv, 46). "He was risen from the dead" (John xxi, 14). According to the Evangelists Jesus rose, not from the grave--not from the place where the bodies of the dead were deposited--but from the lower world--from the realm of the dead--where the shades of the departed were supposed to repose. Regarding this Dr. Hooykaas says: "Let us begin by considering what that word 'resurrection' really meant, whether applied to Jesus or to others. Later representations, down to our own times, have regarded it as equivalent to a rising from the grave; but the question is, what it meant in the faith and preaching of the Apostles, in the genuine, original, primitive tradition that Jesus had risen. Now, 'resurrection' means elsewhere a return from the realm of shades to the human life on earth; and Jesus too had left the underworld, but not, in this case, to return at once to life upon the earth, but to be taken up provisionally into heaven. Originally the resurrection and ascension of Jesus were one. It was only later that the conception sprang up of his having paused upon earth, whether for a single day or for several weeks, on his journey from the abyss to the height. "We may, therefore, safely assert that if the friends of Jesus had thought as we do of the lot of those that die, they would never have so much as dreamed of their Master's resurrection or ascension. For to the Christian belief of today it would be, so to speak, a matter of course that Jesus, like all good and noble souls--and indeed above all others--would go straight 'to a better world,' 'to heaven,' 'to God,' at the instant of his death; but in the conception of the Jews, including the Apostles, this was impossible. Heaven was the abode of the Lord and his angels only; and if an Enoch or an Elijah had been caught up there alive, to dwell there for a time, it was certain that all who died, without exception, even the purest and most holy, must go down as shades into the realms of the dead in the bowels of the earth--and thence, of course, they would not issue excepting by 'rising again.' And this is why we are never told that Jesus rose 'from death,' far less 'from the grave,' but always 'from the dead'" (Bible for Learners, vol. iii, p. 463). 437 Was he readily recognized by his friends? Matthew, Luke and John: He was not. Matthew says that when his disciples met him in Galilee, after having gone there for the express purpose of meeting him, "some doubted" (xxviii, 17). Luke says that two of his friends journeyed with him from Jerusalem to Emmaus, conversing with him on the way, and notwithstanding they had been informed of his resurrection, they did not recognize him until after they had reached the village. John says that when Mary Magdalene met him she "knew not that it was Jesus, ... supposing him to be the gardener" (xx, 14, 15); and when he met his disciples at the Lake of Tiberius they "knew not that it was Jesus" (xxi, 4). 438 Did his appearances indicate a corporeal, or merely a spiritual existence? The Evangelists declare that he was not only seen by his disciples and others, but that he conversed with them. Matthew says the two Marys held him by the feet, Luke says he invited the disciples to handle him, and John says that Thomas examined his wounds; while both Luke and John state that he partook of nourishment. On the other hand, Luke says that while he sat at meat with Cleopas and his companion at Emmaus "He vanished out of their sight" (xxiv, 31). John says that while the disciples were assembled in a room in Jerusalem, "when the doors were shut," Jesus came "and stood in the midst" (xx, 19). Eight days later the appearance was repeated: "Then came Jesus, the doors being shut, and stood in the midst" (26). Mark says that after he appeared to Mary Magdalene "he appeared in another form" to two of his disciples (xvi, 12). While the first named appearances can be reconciled with so-called spiritual manifestations, the latter cannot be reconciled with a corporeal existence. In the preceding chapter we have shown that the alleged crucifixion of Jesus is unworthy of belief. If he was not crucified the story of his resurrection is, of course, a fiction. But conceding, for the sake of argument, that he was crucified; does this make his resurrection probable, or even possible? The crucifixion of a man is a possible occurrence; but the corporeal resurrection of a man who has suffered death is impossible. These reputed appearances of Jesus, if they have a historical foundation, were evidently mere subjective impressions or apparitions. Although he is declared to have remained on earth forty days, he made, at the most, but two or three brief visits to his disciples, appearing and disappearing like a phantom. Instead of abiding with them, teaching them the doctrines of his religion--of which they professed to be ignorant--and preparing them for their coming ministry he is represented as keeping in seclusion, or roaming aimlessly along the country highways, like some demented creature. Referring to his appearance to his disciples, Jerome says: "The apostles supposed him to be a spirit, or according to the Gospel which the Nazarenes receive [the Hebrew Gospel of Matthew] an incorporeal demon." The possibility, and even prevalency, of apparitions similar to those related of Jesus are recognized by every student of psychology. Sir Benjamin Brodie, in his "Psychological Inquiries" (p. 78), says: "There are abundant proofs that impressions may be made in the brain by other causes simulating those which are made on it by external objects through the medium of the organs of sense, thus producing false perceptions, which may, in the first instance, and before we have had time to reflect on the subject, be mistaken for realities." The appearance of Jesus to Mary Magdalene was not believed even by the disciples. If the disciples believed that Mary was deluded, is it unreasonable to believe that they were deluded also? Illusions are contagious and may affect many minds as well as one. Dr. Carpenter, one of the highest English authorities on mental science, says: "If not only a single individual, but several persons should be 'possessed' by one and the same idea or feeling, the same misinterpretation may be made by all of them; and in such a case the concurrence of their testimony does not add the least strength to it" (Principles of Mental Physiology, p. 208). In confirmation of this is cited the following from a work on "The Philosophy of Apparitions," by Dr. Hibbert, F.R.S.E.: "A whole ship's company was thrown into the utmost consternation by the apparition of a cook who had died a few days before. He was distinctly seen walking ahead of the ship, with a peculiar gait by which he was distinguished when alive, through having one of his legs shorter than the other. On steering the ship towards the object, it was found to be a piece of floating wreck." These supposed appearances of Jesus were, at the most, only apparitions, and "Apparitions," to quote Dr. Hibbert again, "are nothing more than morbid symptoms, which are indicative of an intense excitement of the renovated feelings of the mind" (Philosophy of Apparitions, p. 375). Lord Amberley advances a psychological explanation of the reputed appearances of Jesus from which I quote the following: "Whatever other qualities Jesus may have possessed or lacked, there can be no question that he had one--that of inspiring in others a strong attachment to himself. He had in his brief career surrounded himself with devoted disciples; and he was taken from their midst in the full bloom of his powers by a violent and early death. Now there are some who have been taught by the bitter experience of their lives how difficult, nay, how impossible it is to realize in imagination the fact that a beloved companion is in truth gone from them forever.... We fondly conceive that in some way the dead must still exist; and if so, can one, who was so tender before, listen to our cry of pain and refuse to come? Can one, who soothed us in the lesser troubles of our lives, look on while we are suffering the greatest agony of all and fail to comfort? It cannot be. Imagination declines to picture the long future that lies before us. We cannot understand that we shall never again listen to the tones of the familiar voice; never feel the touch of the gentle hand; never be encouraged by the warm embrace that tells us we are loved, or find a refuge from miserable thoughts and the vexations of the world in the affectionate and ever-open heart. All this is too hard for us. We long for a resurrection; we should believe in it if we could; we do believe in it in sleep, when our feelings are free to roam at pleasure, unrestrained by the chilling presence of the material world. In dreams the old life is repeated again and again. Sometimes the lost one is beside us as of old and we are quite untroubled by the thought of parting. Sometimes there is a strange and confusing consciousness that the great calamity has happened, or has been thought to happen, but that now we are again together, and that a new life has succeeded upon death.... Granting only a strong emotion and a lively phantasy, we may comprehend at once how, in many lands, to many mourners, the images of their dreams may also become the visions of their waking hours" (Analysis of Religious Belief, pp. 275, 276). Renan says: "For the historian, the life of Jesus finishes with his last sigh. But such was the impression he had left in the heart of his disciples, and of a few devoted women, that during some weeks more it was as if he were living and consoling them. Had his body been taken away, or did enthusiasm, always credulous, create afterwards the group of narratives by which it was sought to establish faith in the resurrection? In the absence of opposing documents this can never be ascertained. Let us say, however, that the strong imagination of Mary Magdalene played an important part in the circumstance. Divine power of love! Sacred moments in which the passion of one possessed gave to the world a resuscitated God" (Life of Jesus, p. 296). 439 If Jesus appeared in a material body, was he naked, or clothed? This is not a vital, but it is a pertinent question. It is stated that he appeared to Mary Magdalene immediately after the resurrection. Did he appear to her naked, or was he clothed? As she mistook him for the gardener, and as the gardener undoubtedly went clad, it may be presumed that Jesus was clad also. If so, where did he procure his clothes? His own garments were divided among the soldiers, and his grave clothes were left in the sepulchre. If it be assumed that he was taken from the tomb by his friends, as some critics believe, the difficulty vanishes. 440 What is said of the saints who arose on the day of the crucifixion? Matthew: They "came out of the graves after the resurrection, and went into the holy city, and appeared unto many" (xxvii, 53). Before Matthew's wholesale resurrection of the saints the resurrection of Jesus pales into insignificance. In the opinion of many supernaturalists Matthew has mixed too large a dose of the miraculous for even Christian credulity to swallow, and they would gladly omit this portion of it. Regarding this story Dr. Farrar says: "An earthquake shook the earth and split the rocks, and as it rolled away from their places the great stones which closed and covered the cavern sepulchres of the Jews, so it seemed to the imaginations of many to have disimprisoned the spirits of the dead, and to have filled the air with ghostly visitants, who after Christ had risen appeared to linger in the Holy City" (Life of Christ, vol. ii, p. 419). Dean Milman dismisses it in much the same way. Referring to the earthquake, he says: "The same convulsion would displace the stones which covered the ancient tombs and lay open many of the innumerable rock-hewn sepulchres which perforated the hills on every side of the city, and expose the dead to public view. To the awe-struck and depressed minds of the followers of Jesus, no doubt, were confined these visionary appearances of the spirits of their deceased brethren" (History of Christianity, vol. i, p. 336). If the minds of the disciples were so greatly affected that they imagined they beheld the resurrected bodies of strangers whom they had never met and of whom they had probably never heard--for they were nearly a hundred miles from the graves of their own kindred--is it strange that they should imagine they saw the resurrected Master with whom they had daily associated for months and perhaps years? To characterize these resurrected saints as "ghostly visitants" and "visionary appearances," and the resurrected Christ as a real being, is a distinction without a scintilla of evidence to support it. Both appearances, if they be historical, belong to the same class of mental phenomena; and are, indeed, the offspring of the same minds. 441 When did the resurrection take place? All: In the night. Who witnessed it? All: No one. The author of "Supernatural Religion" says: "The remarkable fact is, therefore, absolutely undeniable, that there was not, and that it is not even pretended that there was, a single eye-witness to the actual Resurrection. The empty grave, coupled with the supposed subsequent appearances of Jesus, is the only evidence of the Resurrection" (p. 1004). 442 It is said that a guard was stationed at the tomb. Why was this done? Matthew: "The chief priests and Pharisees came together unto Pilate, saying, Sir, we remember that that deceiver said while he was yet alive, After three days I will rise again. Command, therefore, that the sepulchre be made sure until the third day, lest his disciples come by night, and steal him away, and say unto the people, He is risen from the dead" (xxvii, 62-64). Is it not strange that his enemies should be cognizant of this when his disciples "knew not the scripture, that he must rise again from the dead?" (John xx, 9.) Regarding this the "Bible for Learners" says: "Was such a foolish report really circulated among the Jews? In any case this story, which is worked out elaborately in the Gospel of Nicodemus, is quite absurd. Is it likely that the enemies of Jesus would have heard a prophecy of his rising again when his very friends never dreamed of it for a moment, and when he had never once spoken of his 'resurrection' in public?" (Vol. iii, p. 480.) 443 On what day did the Sanhedrim visit Pilate for the purpose of obtaining a guard? Matthew: On the Sabbath (xxvii, 62). Matthew, after describing the death and burial of Jesus, says: "Now the next day, that followed the day of the preparation, the chief priests and Pharisees came together unto Pilate." It is generally conceded by Christian commentators that by "the next day" Matthew refers to the Sabbath, for if Jesus was crucified and buried on Friday, no other day can be meant. To avoid the disagreeable consequences of such an admission a few have contended that by "the day of preparation" is meant the Preparation of the Passover. But this renders the passage unintelligible. By "preparation" Matthew means, not the Preparation of the Passover, but the preparation of the Sabbath. This is made clear by the other Synoptics. After relating the events of the crucifixion, Mark begins his account of the burial with these words: "And now when the even was come, because it was the preparation, that is, the day before the Sabbath" (xv, 42). Luke, after giving an account of the crucifixion and burial, says: "And that day was the preparation and the Sabbath drew on" (xxiii, 54). It is claimed by the Evangelists that the Jewish priests of that period were such rigid observers of the Sabbath that they sought to put Jesus to death for simply healing the sick on that day. That the Sanhedrim desecrated the Sabbath, and especially the Passover Sabbath, by visiting and transacting business with a heathen ruler cannot be accepted as possible. 444 When was the guard placed at the tomb? Matthew: Not until the second night. It is argued that Jesus must have risen because a guard was placed at his tomb so that it was impossible for his disciples to "come by night, and steal him away." But had his body really been left in the tomb, as claimed, they would have taken it the first night had they desired it. The passage cited from Matthew in the preceding criticism declares that a guard was not requested of Pilate until the day following the crucifixion, so that the tomb was without a guard the first night. The sepulchre was not opened and examined when the guard was placed there on the following day. "So they went and made the sepulchre sure, sealing the stone, and setting a watch" (Matt. xxvii, 66). Had the seal been found unbroken at the end of three days it would not have proved that Jesus' body still remained in the tomb. It would merely have proved that the body had not been removed after the seal was placed on it. It may be urged that Jesus had prophesied that he would not rise until the third day, and that an earlier disappearance of the body could not be harmonized with a strict fulfillment of the prophecy. But of this prophecy the disciples, we have seen, were ignorant. 445 What is said in regard to the opening of the tomb? Matthew: "In the end of the Sabbath, as it began to dawn toward the first day of the week, came Mary Magdalene and the other Mary to see the sepulchre. And behold there was a great earthquake; for the angel of the Lord descended from heaven, and came and rolled back the stone from the door, and sat upon it.... And the angel answered and said unto the women, Fear not ye: for I know that ye seek Jesus, which was crucified. He is not here: for he is risen, as he said. Come, see the place where the Lord lay" (xxviii, 1-6). Matthew's story of the guard was evidently inserted for the express purpose of establishing a belief in the resurrection by making it appear impossible for his friends to have removed the body from the sepulchre. Yet this story suggests, if it does not prove, the very thing that he attempts to prove impossible. The sepulchre was opened in the presence of witnesses--the guards and the women. Jesus did not emerge from it, nor did it contain his body. It was empty when opened. This renders probable, if not certain, one of two things: either his body was not deposited there, or it was removed before the watch was set. Commenting on the empty tomb L. K. Washburn says: "If Jesus got out of the grave alive, he was put into it alive. If he was put into it dead, he was taken out dead. A depopulated sepulchre is not proof that its former tenant has moved to heaven. It is merely proof that somebody has stolen a dead body." 446 What did the guards do when they left the tomb? Matthew: "Some of the watch came into the city, and showed unto the chief priests all the things that were done" (xxviii, 11). To one acquainted with the discipline of the Roman army this story of the soldiers leaving their post thirty-six hours before the expiration of the watch assigned and going into the city and telling the Jews what had transpired is incredible. 447 What did the chief priests do? Matthew: "They gave large sums of money unto the soldiers, saying, Say ye, His disciples came by night, and stole him away while we slept" (12, 13). The penalty for sleeping while on duty was death, and no bribe could have induced them to declare that they were guilty of this offense even if the priests had promised to intercede for them. Again, had this transaction really occurred it would have been known only by the parties concerned in it, and when disclosure meant the direst punishment to both the bribe-givers and the bribe-takers, neither would have divulged the crime. Strauss, criticising the alleged action of the Jewish priests, says: "Their conduct, when the guards returning from the grave apprised them of the resurrection of Jesus, is truly impossible. They believe the assertion of the soldiers that Jesus had arisen out of his grave in a miraculous manner. How could the council, many of whose members were Sadducees, receive this as credible? Even the Pharisees in the Sanhedrim, though they held in theory the possibility of a resurrection, would not, with the mean opinion they entertained of Jesus, be inclined to believe in his resurrection, especially as the assertion in the mouth of the guards sounded just like a falsehood invented to screen a failure in duty. The real Sanhedrists, on hearing such an assertion from the soldiers, would have replied with exasperation: You lie! you have slept and allowed him to be stolen; but you will have to pay dearly for this, when it comes to be investigated by the procurator. But instead of this, the Sanhedrists in our gospel speak them fair, and entreat them thus: Tell a lie, say that you have slept and allowed him to be stolen; moreover, they pay them richly for the falsehood, and promise to exculpate them to the procurator. This is evidently spoken entirely on the Christian presupposition of the reality of the resurrection of Jesus; a presupposition, however, which is quite incorrectly attributed to the Sanhedrim" (Leben Jesu, pp. 806, 807). 448 What is said of the resurrection by Peter? "Him God raised up the third day, and showed him openly; not to all the people, but unto witnesses chosen before of God, even to us, who did eat and drink with him after he rose from the dead" (Acts x, 40, 41). If God really wished to convince all the people why did he not show him to all the people? It is said that more than two millions of Jews attended the Passover. Had he desired to prove to them that Jesus was the Christ he would have assembled this multitude at midday and in their presence raised his crucified and buried Son. Yet not a single human being witnessed the resurrection, and not a single disinterested witness is said to have seen him after his death. Like a thief he escapes from his prison in the night and avoids publicity. This story of the resurrection is clearly a priestly invention and the composer of the speech ascribed to Peter was conscious of the fact. 449 What did Paul teach regarding the resurrection of Christ? "That Christ should suffer and that he should be the first that should rise from the dead" (Acts xxvi, 23). If Christ was the first to rise from the dead what becomes of the miracles of Lazarus, of the widow of Nain's son, and of the daughter of Jairus? What becomes of Matthew's saints who rose from the dead on the day of the crucifixion, two days before Christ rose? 450 What did Paul teach regarding the resurrection of the dead in general? "If the dead rise not, then is Christ not raised" (1 Corinthians xv, 16). "He that goeth down to the grave shall come up no more" (Job vii, 9). 451 When did the disciples receive the Holy Ghost? John: "And when he had said this, he breathed on them, and saith unto them, Receive ye the Holy Ghost" (xx, 22). This was on the evening of the resurrection. Forty days after this he said to them: "Ye shall be baptized with the Holy Ghost not many days hence" (Acts i, 5). Acts: "And when the day of Pentecost was fully come ... they were all filled with the Holy Ghost" (ii, 1-4). This was seven weeks after the resurrection. 452 On what day of the week did it occur? John: "The first day of the week" (xx, 19). John, like the author of the first Gospel, is evidently ignorant of the Jewish method of reckoning time. He makes the evening (it was night) following the first day a part of that day instead of the next day to which it belonged. 453 Did Thomas receive the Holy Ghost? John: He did not. He was absent when the disciples received it (xx, 19-25). 454 Who had Jesus said would send the Holy Ghost to his disciples? "The Comforter which is the Holy Ghost whom the Father will send" (John xiv, 26). "I [Jesus] will send him unto you" (xvi, 7). 455 What effect had the Holy Ghost upon them? Acts: They "began to speak with other tongues, as the Spirit gave them utterance" (ii, 4). Concerning this "gift" Greg says: "Ignorance and folly too often became the arbiters of wisdom--and the ravings of delirium were listened to as the words of inspiration, and of God. If Jesus could have returned to earth thirty years after his death, and sat in the midst of an assembly of his followers, who were listening in hushed and wondering prostration of mind to a speaker in the 'unknown tongue,' how would he have wept over the humiliating and disappointing spectacle! how would he have grieved to think that the incoherent jargon of delirium or hysteria should be mistaken for the promptings of his Father's spirit!" (Creed of Christendom, p. 250.) 456 Who heard them speak in new tongues? Acts: "Parthians, and Medes, and Elamites, and the dwellers in Mesopotamia, and in Judea, and Cappadocia, in Pontus, and Asia, Phrygia and Pamphylia, in Egypt, and in the parts of Libya about Cyrene, and strangers of Rome, Jews and proselytes, Cretes and Arabians" (ii, 9-11). Did representatives of all these nations really assemble to hear the disciples, or was this merely an imaginary gathering of the writer? Evidently the latter. 457 To the charge of drunkenness what reply did Peter make? "These are not drunken, as ye suppose, seeing it is but the third hour of the day" (Acts ii, 15). A profane mind, unacquainted with Jewish customs, might infer from this that the disciples were not in the habit of becoming intoxicated before nine o'clock in the morning. 458 What inquiry did Paul make of John's disciples? "Have ye received the Holy Ghost since ye believed?" What did they say in reply? "We have not so much as heard whether there be any Holy Ghost" (Acts xix, 2). This was many years after the death of Jesus. Either this colloquy is false, or the story of John the Baptist is false. If John was the forerunner of Christ, as claimed, his disciples became followers of Christ; and if they became followers of Christ they were acquainted with the doctrine of the Holy Ghost--if it existed at this time. 459 When did Jesus' disciples begin to baptize? Matthew and Mark: Not until after his resurrection (Matt. xxviii, 18, 19; Mark xvi, 15, 16). John: At the beginning of his ministry. "After these things came Jesus and his disciples into the land of Judea; and there he tarried with them, and baptized" (iii, 22). "The Pharisees had heard that Jesus made and baptized more disciples than John. (Though Jesus himself baptized not, but his disciples.)" (iv, 1, 2). 460 What form of baptism is Jesus said to have prescribed for the use of his apostles? "In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost" (Matthew xxviii, 19). The apostles did not baptize in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost, but in the name of Christ alone. "Then Peter said unto them, Repent, and be baptized every one of you in the name of Jesus Christ" (Acts ii, 38). "They were baptized in the name of the Lord Jesus" (viii, 16). "He commanded them to be baptized in the name of the Lord" (x, 48). "They were baptized in the name of the Lord Jesus" (xix, 5). Concerning this Greg says: "That this definite form of baptism proceeded from Jesus, is opposed by the fact that such an allocation of the Father, Son, and Spirit, does not elsewhere appear, except as a form of salutation in the epistles; while as a definite form of baptism it is nowhere met with throughout the New Testament. Moreover, it was not the form used, and could scarcely, therefore, have been the form commanded; for in the apostolic epistles, and even in the Acts, the form always is 'baptizing into Christ Jesus,' or, 'into the name of the Lord Jesus'" (Creed of Christendom, p. 191). This ecclesiastical formula was not adopted by the church until late in the second century, and then, not for baptism, but for admission into the church. In regard to this the Rev. Dr. Hooykaas says: "Baptism into the name of God the Father, Jesus Christ the Son of God, and the Holy Spirit, means baptism into the confession of or faith in these three, and is a short epitome of Christian doctrine of which Jesus certainly never dreamed; nay, it is obvious from all accounts that, even in the apostolic age, it was as yet quite unknown; and the still later age which drew up the words by no means intended them as a baptismal formula, but rather as a statement of the conditions of admission into the community. In making the utterance of these words, instead of the imposition of these conditions, the first act of admission into the community of Christ, the Church has confounded words with things" (Bible for Learners, vol. iii, pp. 472, 473). 461 What was his final command to the apostles? "Go ye into all the world, and preach the gospel to every creature" (Mark xvi, 15). This is utterly irreconcilable with Acts (xi, 1-18). Eight years after the death of Jesus, Peter is condemned for preaching to the Gentiles. "And the apostles and brethren that were in Judea heard that the Gentiles had also received the word of God. And when Peter was come to Jerusalem, they that were of the circumcision contended with him" (1, 2). How does he meet the accusation and justify his conduct? By reminding them that it was the express will of their Master? No; he tells them that while in a trance at Joppa he had a vision instructing him to carry the gospel to the Gentiles. "When they heard these things, they held their peace, and glorified God, saying, Then hath God also to the Gentiles granted repentance unto life" (18). 462 How long did Jesus remain on earth? Luke: One day (xxiv). John: At least ten days (xx, xxi). Acts: He was "seen of them forty days" (i, 3). The greatest discrepancy is between Luke and Acts, two books which it is claimed were written by the same author. 463 Where did the ascension take place? Mark: In Jerusalem (xvi, 14, com. Luke xxiv, 33). Luke: At Bethany (xxiv, 50, 51). Acts: At Mount Olivet (i, 9-12). 464 Describe the ascension. Luke: "And it came to pass while he blessed them he was parted from them and carried up into heaven" (xxiv, 51). The ascension of Romulus doubtless suggested the story of the ascension of Jesus. 465 What occurred at the ascension? Acts: "While they looked steadfastly toward heaven as he went up, behold, two men stood by them in white apparel; which also said, Ye men of Galilee, why stand ye gazing up into heaven? this same Jesus, which is taken up from you into heaven, shall so come in like manner as ye have seen him go into heaven" (i, 10, 11). It is remarkable that the Evangelists who find space to record the sayings of lunatics and devils, have not room to record the words of angels, or even note their presence. 466 For what purpose did Jesus ascend to heaven? "I go to prepare a place for you" (John xiv, 2). What was the need of this when the place had already been "prepared ... from the foundation of the world" (Matthew xxv, 34)? 467 Did Jesus ascend bodily into heaven? Luke: He ascended to heaven in a body of flesh and blood (xxiv, 36-43, 50, 51). Paul: "But some man will say, How are the dead raised up? and with what body do they come? Thou fool, that which thou sowest is not quickened except it die; and that which thou sowest thou sowest not that body that shall be" (1 Corinthians xv, 35-37). "It is sown a natural body; it is raised a spiritual body. There is a natural body, and there is a spiritual body" (44). "Now this I say, brethren, that flesh and blood cannot inherit the Kingdom of God" (50). The whole theology of Paul is opposed to the bodily resurrection and ascension of Jesus. The "Bible for Learners" says: "In speaking of the resurrection, he [Paul] does not mean the reanimation of the body of Jesus; and indeed he expressly excludes such a thought by ascribing to the Christ a glorified and spiritual body not made of flesh and blood. It is equally certain that he thinks of the Christ as having appeared from heaven; and his ranking the appearance to himself--unquestionably the product of his own fervid imagination--as parallel with those which preceded it [his appearances to the disciples], seems to indicate that they were all visions alike" (Vol. iii, p. 467). 468 Do all the Evangelists record the ascension? Matthew and John, both of whom are declared to have been apostles, and the only Evangelists who are supposed to have witnessed the ascension, know nothing of it. The last twelve verses of Mark, it is admitted, are spurious; while the words, "carried up into heaven," of Luke do not appear in the Sinaitic version, the oldest version of the New Testament extant. With this forged appendix to Mark and this interpolated passage in Luke eliminated, the Four Gospels contain no mention of the ascension. 469 Had any man ever ascended to heaven before Jesus? Jesus: "No man hath ascended up to heaven, but he that came down from heaven, even the Son of man which is in heaven" (John iii, 13). Then that story about Elijah is a fiction, is it? In regard to the resurrection and ascension Thomas Paine says: "As to the account given of his resurrection and ascension, it was the necessary counterpart of his birth. His historians having brought him into the world in a supernatural manner, were obliged to take him out again in the same manner, or the first part of the story must have fallen to the ground. The wretched contrivance with which this latter part is told exceeds every thing that went before it. The first part, that of the miraculous conception, was not a thing that admitted of publicity; and therefore the tellers of this part of the story had this advantage, that though they might not be credited, they could not be detected.... But the resurrection of a dead person from the grave, and his ascension through the air, is a thing very different as to the evidence it admits of, to the invisible conception of a child in the womb. The resurrection and ascension, supposing them to have taken place, admitted of public and ocular demonstration, like that of the ascension of a balloon, or the sun at noon-day, to all Jerusalem at least. A thing which everybody is required to believe, requires that the proof and evidence of it should be equal to all, and universal; and as the public visibility of this last related act was the only evidence that could give sanction to the former part, the whole of it falls to the ground, because that evidence never was given.... It is in vain to attempt to palliate or disguise this matter. The story, so far as relates to the supernatural part, has every mark of fraud and imposition stamped upon the face of it. Who were the authors of it is as impossible for us now to know, as it is for us to be assured that the books in which the account is related were written by the persons whose names they bear; the best surviving evidence we now have respecting this affair is the Jews. They are regularly descended from the people who lived in the times this resurrection and ascension is said to have happened, and they say, it is not true. It has long appeared to me a strange inconsistency to cite the Jews as a proof of the truth of the story. It is just the same as if a man were to say, I will prove the truth of what I have told you by producing the people who say it is false" (Age of Reason, pp. 10, 11). "The story of Jesus Christ appearing after he was dead is the story of an apparition, such as timid imaginations can always create in vision, and credulity believe" (Ibid, 161). "Supernatural Religion" says: "The whole of the evidence for the Resurrection reduces itself to an undefined belief on the part of a few persons, in a notoriously superstitious age, that after Jesus had died and been buried they had seen him alive. These visions, it is admitted, occurred at a time of the most intense religious excitement, and under circumstances of wholly exceptional mental agitation and distress. The wildest alternations of fear, doubt, hope and indefinite expectation, added their effects to oriental imaginations already excited by indignation at the fate of their Master, and sorrow or despair at such a dissipation of their Messianic dreams. There was present every element of intellectual and moral disturbance. Now must we seriously ask again whether this bare and wholly unjustified belief can be accepted as satisfactory evidence for so astounding a miracle as the Resurrection? Can the belief of such men, in such an age, establish the reality of a phenomenon which is contradicted by universal experience? We have no evidence as to what actually occurred. We do not even know the facts upon which they based their inferences. We only know that they thought they had seen Jesus and that they, therefore, concluded that he had risen from the dead. It comes to us as bare belief from the Age of Miracles, unsupported by facts, uncorroborated by evidence, unaccompanied by proof of investigation, and unprovided with material for examination. What is such belief worth? We have no hesitation in saying that it is absolutely worth nothing" (pp. 1048, 1049). The Rev. Dr. Phillip Schaff, one of the most eminent evangelical Christian scholars of this country, in his "History of the Christian Church," makes this candid admission regarding the resurrection and ascension of Christ: "Truth compels us to admit that there are serious difficulties in harmonizing the accounts of the Evangelists, and in forming a consistent conception of Christ's resurrection body hovering as it were between heaven and earth, and a supernatural state, of a body clothed with flesh and blood and bearing the wound prints, and yet so spiritual as to appear and disappear through closed doors and to ascend visibly to heaven." CHAPTER VIII. CHARACTER AND TEACHINGS. 470 Who was Jesus Christ? Mark: He was the son of man. Matthew and Luke: He was the Son of God. John: He was God himself. In the Four Gospels are presented three entirely different conceptions of the Christ. In Mark he is represented as the son of human parents--the Messiah--but simply a man. In Matthew and Luke we have the story of the miraculous conception--he is represented as the Son of God. In John he is declared to be God himself. "In the beginning was the Word [Christ], and the Word was with God, and the Word was God" (i, 1). According to Mark Christ is a man; according to Matthew and Luke, a demi-god; according to John, a God. Voltaire thus harmonizes these discordant conceptions: "The son of God is the same as the son of man; the son of man is the same as the son of God. God, the father, is the same as Christ, the son; Christ, the son, is the same as God, the father. This language may appear confused to unbelievers, but Christians will readily understand it." This is quite as intelligible as the Christian Confession of Faith, Article II of which reads as follows: "The Son, which is the Word of the Father, begotten from everlasting of the Father, the very and eternal God, and of one substance with the Father, took man's nature in the womb of the blessed Virgin, of her substance: so that two whole and perfect Natures, that is to say, the Godhead and Manhood, were joined together in one Person, never to be divided, whereof is one Christ, very God, and very Man." "The theological Christ is the impossible union of the human and divine--man with the attributes of God, and God with the limitations and weaknesses of man."--Ingersoll. 471 Is God a visible Being? Jacob: "I have seen God face to face" (Genesis xxxii, 30). John: "No man hath seen God at any time" (i, 18). 472 How many Gods are there? Mark: One. John: Three. Mark teaches the doctrine of Unitarianism (Monotheism), or one God. John teaches, not the doctrine of Unitarianism or one God, nor yet the doctrine of Trinitarianism or three Gods in one, but the doctrine of Tritheism or three distinct Gods, separate and independent of each other. 473 Is the doctrine of the Trinity taught in the New Testament? "For there are three that bear record in heaven, the Father, the Word, and the Holy Ghost: and these three are one" (1 John v, 7). This is the only passage in the New Testament which clearly teaches the doctrine of the Trinity, and this passage is admitted by all Christian scholars to be an interpolation. When the modern version of the New Testament was first published by Erasmus it was criticised because it contained no text teaching the doctrine of the Trinity. Erasmus promised his critics that if a manuscript could be found containing such a text he would insert it. The manuscript was "found," and the text quoted appeared in a later edition. Concerning this interpolation Sir Isaac Newton, in a letter to a friend, which was afterward published by Bishop Horsley, says: "When the adversaries of Erasmus had got the Trinity into his edition, they threw by their manuscript as an old almanac out of date." Alluding to the doctrine of the Trinity, Thomas Jefferson says: "It is too late in the day for men of sincerity to pretend they believe in the Platonic mysticism that three are one and one is three, and yet, that the one is not three, and the three not one.... But this constitutes the craft, the power, and profits of the priests. Sweep away their gossamer fabrics of fictitious religion, and they would catch no more flies" (Jefferson's Works, vol. iv, p. 205, Randolph's ed.). Again Jefferson says: "The hocus-pocus phantasm of a God, like another Cerberus, with one body and three heads, had its birth and growth in the blood of thousands and thousands of martyrs" (Ibid, p. 360). 474 Was Christ the only begotten Son of God? John: He was "the only begotten Son of God" (iii, 18). "There were giants in the earth in those days; and also after that, when the sons of God came in unto the daughters of men, and they bare children unto them" (Genesis vi, 4). 475 By what agency and when was the Christ begotten? Matthew and Luke: By the Holy Ghost at the time of his conception by the Virgin Mary. According to Justin the Holy Ghost begat the Christ, not at the conception of Jesus, as claimed by these Evangelists, but at his baptism. At his baptism the voice from heaven said: "Thou art my son; this day have I begotten thee" (Dialogues 88). The correctness of Justin's statement is corroborated by Hebrews: "Christ glorified not himself to be made an high priest; but he that said unto him, Thou art my Son, today have I begotten thee" (v, 5). Christ's priesthood began at his baptism. 476 Of what gender is the Holy Ghost? Matthew (Greek Ver.): Masculine gender. Matthew (Hebrew Ver.): Feminine gender. The Holy Ghost (Spirit), as was noted in a previous chapter, was with the Greeks of masculine gender, with the Jews of feminine gender. The Gospel According to the Hebrews, which, it is claimed, was the original Gospel of Matthew, represented Jesus as saying, "Just now my mother, the Holy Ghost, laid hold on me." If the Holy Ghost was the mother of Jesus did he have two mothers? According to our Greek version of Matthew, as well as that of Luke, he had one mother and three reputed fathers--God, the Holy Ghost, and Joseph. 477 Christ, it is affirmed, was born of Mary. If so, what relation did she bear to him? 1. If he was born of Mary she was his mother. 2. She "being with child by the Holy Ghost," and Father, Son and Holy Ghost being one, she bore to him the relation of wife. 3. God being the Father of all mankind, and God and Christ being one, she was his daughter. 4. She being the daughter of God, and Christ being the Son of God, she was therefore his sister. Consequently Mary bore to him the relation of mother, wife, daughter and sister. 478 The greater portion of the Christian church affirms the perpetual virginity of Mary. It is claimed that Jesus was her only child and that the conception and birth of him did not destroy her virginity. Is this confirmed by the Evangelists? It is not. Matthew and Mark say: "Is not his mother called Mary? and his brethren, James and Joses, and Simon, and Judas? and his sisters, are they not all with us?" (Matt. xiii, 55, 56; Mark vi, 3). Luke (viii, 19) and John (vii, 3) both declare that he had brothers. To maintain this dogma it is affirmed that by "brethren and sisters" is meant cousins. Dr. Farrar, who in regard to this as in regard to most disputed points, assumes a non-committal or conciliatory attitude, concedes that "the natural supposition that, after the miraculous conception of our Lord, Joseph and Mary lived together in the married state, and that James, and Joses, and Judas, and Simon, with daughters, whose names are not recorded, were subsequently born to them," is "in accordance certainly with the prima facie evidence of the Gospels" (Life of Christ, p. 51). 479 Who did Mary say was the father of Jesus? Luke: When he remained behind in Jerusalem, and they found him in the temple, "his mother said unto him, Son, why hast thou thus dealt with us? behold, thy father [Joseph] and I have sought thee sorrowing" (ii, 48). To believe that a Jewish virgin was overshadowed by a spirit, and miraculously conceived and bore a child, requires more convincing proof than the dream of a credulous lover. We ought at least to have the testimony of the mother. But we have it not. She testifies that Joseph is his father. 480 What did Jesus' neighbors say regarding his paternity? Matthew: They said, "Is not this the carpenter's [Joseph's] son?" (xiii, 55.) Luke: "They said, Is not this Joseph's son?" (iv, 22.) John: "They said, Is not this Jesus, the son of Joseph?" (vi, 42.) The Rev. Dr. Crapsey, of the Episcopal church, in his work on "Religion and Politics" (p. 289), makes this significant admission regarding the divine origin of Jesus: "The fact of his miraculous birth was unknown to himself, unknown to his mother, and unknown to the whole Christian community of the first generations." Thomas Jefferson, in a letter to John Adams, wrote: "The day will come when the mystical generation of Jesus, by the Supreme Being as his father, in the womb of a virgin, will be classed with the fable of the generation of Minerva in the brain of Jupiter" (Jefferson Works, vol. iv, p. 365, Randolph's ed.). 481 Who did Peter declare him to be? "Jesus of Nazareth, a man approved of God" (Acts ii, 22). Who did Paul declare him to be? "There is one God, and one mediator between God and men, the man Christ Jesus" (1 Timothy ii, 5). The Christ of Peter and Paul was not a God, but a man--a man upon whom had been bestowed divine gifts--but yet a man. 482 What testimony is ascribed to Paul? "Great is the mystery of godliness: God was manifest in the flesh" (1 Timothy iii, 16). This is a gross perversion of Scripture for the purpose of making Paul a witness to Christ's divinity. Regarding this text and the Trinitarian text inserted in 1 John, Sir Isaac Newton, in his letter previously quoted from, says: "What the Latins have done in this text (1 John v, 7) the Greeks have done to Paul (1 Tim. iii, 16). They now read, 'Great is the mystery of godliness; God manifest in the flesh'; whereas all the churches for the first four or five hundred years, and the authors of all the ancient versions, Jerome as well as the rest, read, 'Great is the mystery of godliness, which was manifest in the flesh.' Our English version makes it yet a little stronger. It reads, 'Great is the mystery of godliness: God was manifest in the flesh.'" In conclusion Newton says: "If the ancient churches, in debating and deciding the greatest mysteries of religion, knew nothing of these two texts, I understand not why we should be so fond of them now the debate is over." 483 Christ is declared by the Christian creed to be "the very and eternal God." God, it is claimed, is omnipotent. Was Christ omnipotent? "The Son can do nothing of himself" (John v, 19). "I can of mine own self do nothing" (30). 484 God is omniscient. Was Christ omniscient? Referring to his second advent he says: "Of that day and hour knoweth no man, ... neither the Son" (Mark xiii, 32). 485 God is omnipresent. Was Christ omnipresent? "I am glad for your sakes that I was not there" (John xi, 15). "Ye shall seek me, and shall not find me: and where I am, thither ye cannot come" (vii, 36). "And now I am no more in the world" (xvii, 11). 486 God is self-existent. Was Christ self-existent? "I live by the Father" (John vi, 57). "He liveth by the power of God" (2 Corinthians xiii, 4). 487 Did Christ have a preexistence? "Before Abraham was, I am" (John viii, 58). According to the Synoptics his existence began with his life on earth. 488 Was he infinite in wisdom? Luke: He "increased in wisdom" (ii, 52). If he increased in wisdom his knowledge was limited, and limitation of knowledge is not an attribute of an infinite God. 489 Was he infinite in goodness? "Why callest thou me good? There is none good but one, that is, God" (Mark x, 18). 490 Was he infinite in mercy? "He that believeth not shall be damned" (Mark xvi, 16). "Depart from me, ye cursed, into everlasting fire" (Matthew xxv, 41). "Then began he to upbraid the cities wherein most of his mighty works were done, because they repented not: Woe unto thee, Chorazin! woe unto thee, Bethsaida!... It shall be more tolerable for Tyre and Sidon at the day of Judgment, than for you. And thou, Capernaum, which art exalted unto heaven, shalt be brought down to hell" (Matthew xi, 20-23). 491 His resurrection is adduced as the chief argument in proof of his divinity. Did he raise himself from the dead? Peter: He did not. God raised him. "Jesus Christ of Nazareth, ... whom God raised from the dead" (Acts iv, 10). If Christ, then, did not rise from the dead by his own volition, was his resurrection any proof of his divinity? No more than the resurrection of Lazarus was proof of Lazarus's divinity. 492 His miraculous conception is adduced as another proof of his divinity. Is this the only miraculous conception claimed in the Bible? It is not. Isaac, Samson, Samuel and John the Baptist are all claimed to have been miraculously conceived (Genesis xviii, 10, 11; xxi, 1-3; Judges xiii, 2, 3, 24; 1 Samuel i, 9-11, 20; Luke i, 7-13). 493 His miracles, it is claimed, attest his divinity. Were he and his disciples the only ones who performed miracles? These alleged miracles were performed before his time--the Old Testament abounds with them--and they have been performed since his time. They were performed by others in his own time--were performed by those who ignored and rejected him--were performed by the disciples of Satan himself (Matthew vii, 22; xii, 27; Mark ix, 38; xiii, 22; Luke ix, 49). "Supernatural Religion" says: "The supposed miraculous evidence for the divine revelation, moreover, is without any special divine character, being avowedly common also to Satanic agency, but it is not original either in conception or details. Similar miracles to those which are supposed to attest it are reported long antecedent to the promulgation of Christianity, and continued to be performed for centuries after it. A stream of miraculous pretension, in fact, has flowed through all human history, deep and broad as it has passed through the darker ages, but dwindling down to a thread as it has entered days of enlightenment. The evidence was too hackneyed and commonplace to make any impression upon those before whom the Christian miracles are said to have been performed, and it altogether failed to convince the people to whom the revelation was primarily addressed. The selection of such evidence, for such a purpose, is much more characteristic of human weakness than of divine power" (p. 699). Archbishop Trench says: "Side by side with the miracles which serve for the furthering of the kingdom of God runs another line of wonders, the counter-workings of him who is ever the ape of the Most High.... This fact that the kingdom of lies has its wonders no less than the kingdom of truth, is itself sufficient evidence that miracles cannot be appealed to absolutely and finally, in proof of the doctrine which the worker of them proclaims" (Miracles of Our Lord, p. 22). The miracles of Christ, like the miracles of Satan, existed only in the minds of his credulous and deluded followers. "Ye shall have miracles, aye, sound ones too, Seen, heard, attested, everything but true." --Thomas Moore. 494 Prophecy is appealed to in support of his divinity. It is claimed that the writers of the Old Testament predicted his coming. Do such predictions exist? In his work on "The Bible," as well as in a previous chapter of this work, the writer has shown that there is not a single passage in the Old Testament that, in the original text, refers in the remotest degree to Jesus Christ. Greg shows that much of Old Testament history, like Deuteronomy, is presented in the form of anticipatory narrative. To the Christian argument that the Messianic predictions, at least, were written long anterior to the time of Christ, he replies: "This is true, and the argument would have all the force which is attributed to it, were the objectors able to lay their fingers on a single Old Testament prediction clearly referring to Jesus Christ, intended by the utterers of it to relate to him, prefiguring his character and career, and manifestly fulfilled in his appearance on earth. This they cannot do. Most of the passages usually adduced as complying with these conditions, referred, and were clearly intended to refer, to eminent individuals in Israelitish history; many are not prophecies at all; the Messiah, the anointed deliverer, expected by the Jews, hoped for and called for by their poets and prophets, was of a character so different, and a career so opposite, to those of the meek, lowly, long-suffering Jesus, that the passages describing the one never could have been applied to the other, without a perversion of ingenuity, and a disloyal treatment of their obvious signification, which, if employed in any other field than that of theology, would have met with the prompt discredit and derision they deserve" (Creed of Christendom, pp. 135, 136). 495 His own prescience is cited in proof of his divinity. The destruction of the temple by the Romans, it is claimed, was a wonderful instance of the fulfillment of prophecy. But did his so-called prophecy have reference to this event? No one can read this prophecy (Matthew xxiv, 1-3) and then honestly contend that it did. He clearly refers to his second coming and the end of the world when the temple, in common with all sublunary things, shall be destroyed. In the verse immediately following this prediction, his disciples say: "Tell us, when shall these things be? and what shall be the sign of thy coming, and of the end of the world?" But even if this so-called prophecy had referred to this event it is rendered nugatory by the fact that the book containing it was not composed until a hundred years after the destruction of the temple. 496 When was Christ's second coming and the end of terrestrial things to take place? "There be some standing here that shall not taste of death till they see the Son of man coming in his kingdom" (Matthew xvi, 28). "This generation shall not pass away, till all be fulfilled" (Luke xxi, 32). Seventy-five generations have passed, and still the world rolls on, unmoved by Christ's and Mother Shipton's prophecies. 497 Did the Apostles believe that the second coming of Christ and the end of the world were at hand? Peter: "The end of all things is at hand" (1 Peter iv, 7). James: "The coming of the Lord draweth nigh" (James v, 8). John: "Ye have heard that antichrist shall come, even now are there many antichrists: whereby we know that it is the last time" (1 John ii, 18). Paul: "For the Lord himself shall descend from heaven with a shout, with the voice of the archangel, and with the trump of God: and the dead in Christ shall rise first; then we which are alive and remain shall be caught up together with them in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air" (1 Thessalonians iv, 16, 17). Renan, ever ready to palliate or overlook the errors of his hero, frankly admits that the predictions concerning his second advent and the end of the world were a dismal failure. "It is evident, indeed," he says, "that such a doctrine, taken by itself in a literal manner, had no future. The world, in continuing to exist, caused it to crumble. One generation of man at the most was the limit of its endurance. The faith of the first Christian generation is intelligible, but the faith of the second generation is no longer so. After the death of John, or of the last survivor, whoever he might be, of the group which had seen the master, the word of Jesus was convicted of falsehood" (Life of Jesus, pp. 203, 204). 498 To what extent was the gospel to be preached before his second coming? "Ye shall not have gone over the cities of Israel, till the Son of man be come" (Matthew x, 23). "The gospel must first be published among all nations" (Mark xiii, 10). 499 Did Jesus claim to be the Christ or Messiah from the first? John: He did. Early in his ministry "The woman [of Samaria] saith unto him, I know that Messias cometh, which is called Christ: when he is come, he will tell us all things. Jesus saith unto her, I that speak unto thee am he" (iv, 25, 26). Synoptics: He did not announce his Messiahship until late in his ministry. 500 Who where the first to recognize his divinity? Synoptics: Devils and unclean spirits (Matthew viii, 28, 29; Mark iii, 11, 12; Luke iv, 41). 501 What is said of Jesus in Hebrews? "Jesus, who was made a little lower than the angels" (ii, 9). "Being made so much better than the angels" (i, 4). 502 What did he say respecting his identity with God? "My Father and I are one" (John x, 30). "My Father is greater than I" (xiv, 28). 503 How did he attempt to establish his claims? "It is also written in your law, that the testimony of two men is true. I am one that bear witness of myself, and the Father that sent me beareth witness of me" (John viii, 17, 18). But if "I and my Father are one," how does that fulfill the law? 504 What did he say regarding the truthfulness of his testimony concerning himself? "Though I bear record of myself, yet my record is true" (John viii, 14). "If I bear witness of myself, my witness is not true" (v. 31). 505 Did Jesus' neighbors believe in his divinity? Matthew: "When he was come into his own country," and to his own home, "He did not many mighty works there because of their unbelief" (xiii, 54, 58). 506 What opinion did his friends entertain of him? Mark: "And when his friends heard of it [his work], they went out to lay hold on him; for they said, He is beside himself" (iii, 21). 507 Did even his brothers believe in him? John: "Now the Jews' feast of tabernacles was at hand. His brethren therefore said unto him, Depart hence, and go into Judea, that thy disciples also may see the works that thou doest. For there is no man that doeth any thing in secret, and he himself seeketh to be known openly. If thou do these things, shew thyself to the world. For neither did his brethren believe in him" (vii, 2-5). These three passages are fatal to the claim of Christ's divinity. If he was unable to convince his neighbors, his friends, or even his own family of his divinity he was not divine. Much less was he the "very God," as claimed. According to the Christian scheme, man by his disobedience fell--was lost. God desired to save him. Christ--God manifest in the flesh--came on earth for this purpose. What was required of man to secure salvation? Simply to believe that Jesus was the Christ. In order for him to believe this what was necessary? That Jesus should convince him that he was divine. If he was all-powerful he could have done this; if he was all-just he would have done this. Did he do this? His own race rejected him. Disbelief in Christ's divinity disproves his divinity. 508 The writings of the New Testament are adduced as the evidences of Christ's divinity and the divine character of Christianity. Do the writers of the New Testament claim to be inspired? With the possible exception of the author of Revelation, they do not. Paul says, "All scripture is given by inspiration of God." But the "scripture" of Paul was the scripture of the Old Testament. His words have no reference whatever to the writings of the New which did not exist in his time. If the New Testament is not inspired and infallible, what follows? "If the New Testament is defective the church itself is in error, and must be given up as a deception."--Dr. Tischendorf. "It is not a word too much to say that the New Testament abounds with errors."--Dean Alford. 509 What is said of the Apocryphal Gospels which appeared in the early ages of the church? "Several histories of his [Christ's] life and doctrines, full of pious frauds and fabulous wonders, were composed by persons whose intentions perhaps were not bad, but whose writings discovered the greatest superstition and ignorance. Nor was this all; productions appeared which were imposed upon the world by fraudulent men, as the writings of the holy Apostles."--Mosheim. Is the above less true of the books we are reviewing? Are not these writings "full of pious frauds and fabulous wonders"? Do not these writings display "the greatest superstition and ignorance"? Have not these writings been "imposed upon the world by fraudulent men, as the writings of the holy (?) Apostles"? If some of these apocryphal Gospels had been accepted as canonical, and the canonical Gospels had been rejected as apocryphal, these canonical Gospels would appear as untruthful and foolish to Christians as the apocryphal Gospels do. 510 Let us examine the religious teachings ascribed to Christ. For what purpose was his blood shed? "This is my blood of the New Testament which is shed for many" (Mark xiv, 24). "This cup is the New Testament in my blood, which is shed for you" (Luke xxii, 20). "This is my blood of the New Testament which is shed for many FOR THE REMISSION OF SINS" (Matthew xxvi, 28). The above is one of the most significant discrepancies in the Bible. The Atonement is the chief doctrine connected with Christ and orthodox Christianity. The text quoted from Matthew is the only text in the Four Gospels which clearly teaches this doctrine. Two other texts (Matthew xx, 28; John i, 29) are adduced in support of it, but do not clearly teach it. Now Matthew has falsely ascribed to Jesus the revelation of the Atonement, or Mark and Luke have either ignorantly or intentionally omitted this greatest of Christian doctrines. They contain no mention of the Atonement as understood by orthodox Christians. 511 For whom did he say his blood was shed? "This is my blood of the New Testament, which is shed for many [interpreted by the church to mean all mankind]" (Mark xiv, 24). "This cup is the New Testament in my blood, which is shed for you [addressed to his disciples alone]" (Luke xxii, 20). 512 Was his blood really shed? The crucifixion was not a bloody death, and aside from the self-confuted story of John about blood and water flowing from his corpse, the Evangelists do not state that a drop of blood was shed. 513 Christ, it is affirmed, was both God and man. Was it the human, or the divine part of him that suffered death? If only the human, this sacrifice was not an exceptional one, for thousands have died for their fellow men. If the divine part was sacrificed does God cease to exist? 514 His death is called an infinite sacrifice. If only the man died can this be true? The offering of a finite being, it must be admitted, would not constitute an infinite sacrifice. 515 If the God was crucified does he suffer endless pain? If not, then his suffering was not infinite, and the sacrifice in this case was not an infinite one. 516 If God died, but subsequently rose from the dead, was there not an interregnum when the universe was without a ruler? If so, then it must be conceded that the existence of the universe is not dependent upon the existence of God. 517 Are all mankind to be saved by Christ? "And I, if I be lifted up from the earth, will draw all men to me" (John xii, 32). "Many be called but few chosen" (Matthew xx, 16). 518 What does Paul affirm concerning the Atonement? "Christ died for our sins according to the scriptures" (1 Corinthians xv, 3). By "scriptures" Paul means the Old Testament, and according to the scriptures of the Old Testament, "Every man shall be put to death for his own sins" (Deuteronomy xxiv, 16). Like nearly all the doctrines ascribed to Christ, the atonement is in the highest degree unjust and absurd. Referring to this doctrine, Lord Byron says: "The basis of your religion is injustice. The Son of God, the pure, the immaculate, the innocent, is sacrificed for the guilty. This proves his heroism, but no more does away with man's sin than a schoolboy's volunteering to be flogged for another would exculpate a dunce from negligence." Greg justly charges Christians with "holding the strangely inconsistent doctrine that God is so just that he could not let sin go unpunished, yet so unjust that he could punish it in the person of the innocent." "It is for orthodox dialectics," he says, "to explain how Divine Justice can be impugned by pardoning the guilty, and yet vindicated by punishing the innocent!" (Creed of Christendom, pp. 338, 339.) 519 It is claimed that the sacrifice of Jesus was necessary for our salvation. Through whom was this sacrifice secured? All: Judas Iscariot procured it, and Pilate and the Jews offered it. Are not Christians, then, in condemning these men, ungrateful to their greatest benefactors? A man is dangerously ill. The druggist provides a remedy, the physician administers it and saves his life. When restored does he show his gratitude by praising the drug and damning the doctor? 520 In permitting the crucifixion of Jesus, who committed the greater sin, Pilate or God? John: "Jesus answered, Thou couldest have no power at all against me, except it were given thee from above: therefore he [God] that delivered me unto thee hath the greater sin" (xix, 11). Hon. Allan L. McDermott, in his memorable speech in Congress, in 1906, protesting against the persecution of Jews by Christians, said: "If an omnipotent God orders anything done, the human instruments selected to carry out his orders cannot be charged with the acts commanded. The doctrine of repondeat superior applies. If what happened could have been prevented by the Romans or by the Jews, then the New Testament is worthless. Let us assume that the Jews crucified Christ. Could they have done otherwise? Were they greater than God? According to the Bible, the crucifixion was arranged for by the Father. Why blame the Jews or the Romans or any other mortals? They did not know what they were doing. The Roman soldiers did not believe that they were crucifying the son of God; they did not know they were crucifying God himself. Why blame the instruments? Why persecute the descendants? According to the Synoptic Gospels and according to John, the arrangements for the crucifixion--every detail--were made by Almighty God, and were known to Christ." 521 What was the character of his death? Homicide. "Jesus of Nazareth, a man ... ye have taken, and by wicked hands have crucified and slain" (Acts ii, 22, 23). Regicide. "The Lord God shall give unto him the throne of his father David" (Luke i, 32). "This is the King of the Jews" (xxiii, 38). "There they crucified him" (33). Deicide. "The Word [Christ] was God" (John i, 1). "I and my Father are one" (x, 30). "They crucified him" (xix, 18). Suicide. "I [Christ] lay down my life, that I might take it again. No man taketh it from me, but I lay it down of myself" (John x, 17, 18). 522 What did Jesus teach respecting the resurrection of the dead and the doctrine of immortality? "For the hour is coming in the which all that are in the graves shall hear his voice, and shall come forth" (John v, 28, 29). "Search the scriptures; for in them ye think ye have eternal life" (39). "As the cloud is consumed and vanisheth away, so he that goeth down to the grave shall come up no more."--Job (vii, 9). "His breath goeth forth, he returneth to his earth; in that very day his thoughts perish."--Psalms (cxlvi, 4). "For that which befalleth the sons of men befalleth beasts.... As one dieth, so dieth the other; yea, they have all one breath, so that man hath no preeminence over a beast."--Ecclesiastes (iii, 19). 523 His resurrection is accepted by Christians as a proof and type of man's resurrection and immortality. What was the nature of his resurrection? According to all of the Evangelists it was merely a reanimation of his undecayed body. Other bodies supposedly dead have been revived, but neither these resuscitations nor the supposed reanimation of Jesus' corpse affords proof that bodies which ages ago crumbled into dust and whose particles subsequently entered into the composition of myriads of other bodies will be reunited into the original beings. And as Jesus almost immediately disappeared after his alleged resurrection and has never since been seen this resurrection did not evince his own immortality, much less that of mankind in general. 524 Did Christ descend into hell? Peter: He did (Acts ii, 31; 1 Peter iii, 19). Peter states that "his soul was not left in hell," which necessitates the assumption of his having gone there. He also declares that after his death he "went and preached unto the spirits in prison [hell]." The Confession of Faith (Art. III) says: "As Christ died for us, and was buried; so also is it to be believed that he went down into hell." For what purpose did Christ descend into hell and preach to its inhabitants? If it was to redeem them his mission was fruitless; if it was not to redeem them his mission was useless. Early Christian writers almost uniformly spelled the name of Christ, not "Christos" (the Anointed), but "Chrestos." Chrestos was a Pagan name given to the judge of Hades in the lower world. 525 What is taught regarding justification by faith and justification by works? Paul: "A man is not justified by the works of the law, but by the faith of Jesus Christ, ... for by the works of the law shall no flesh be justified" (Galatians ii, 16). "If righteousness come by the law then Christ is dead in vain" (21). "To him that worketh not, but believeth on him that justifieth the ungodly, his faith is counted for righteousness" (Romans iv, 5). "Therefore, we conclude that a man is justified by faith without the deeds of the law" (iii, 28). James: "But wilt thou know, O vain man, that faith without works is dead?" (ii, 20). "Ye see, then, how that by works a man is justified, and not by faith only" (24). The church accepts the teachings of Paul and condemns or ignores the teachings of James. Martin Luther, in his "Table Talk," thus defines the position of the Protestant church: "He that says the gospel requires works for salvation, I say flat and plain he is a liar." "Every doer of the law and every moral worker is accursed, for he walketh in the presumption of his own righteousness." "If men only believe enough in Christ they can commit adultery and murder a thousand times a day without periling their salvation." Luther rejected and denounced the book of James because it teaches the efficacy of good works. The English "Confession of Faith" affirms the following: "That we are justified by Faith only, is a most wholesome doctrine, and very full of comfort" (Art. XI). "Works done before the grace of Christ, and the inspiration of the Spirit, are not pleasant to God, forasmuch as they spring not of faith in Jesus Christ.... Yea rather, for that they are not done as God hath willed and commanded them to be done, we doubt not but they have the nature of sin" (Art. XIII). "Morality! thou deadly bane, Thy tens o' thousands thou hast slain! Vain is his hope, whose stay and trust is In moral mercy, truth and justice! "No--stretch a point to catch a plack; Abuse a brother to his back; Be to the poor like onie whunstane, And haud their noses to the grunstane; Ply ev'ry art o' legal thieving: No matter, stick to sound believing. "Learn three-mile prayers, and half-mile graces, Wi weel-spread loaves, and lang wry faces, Grunt up a solemn, lengthen'd groan, And damn a' parties but your own: I'll warrant, then, ye're nae deceiver, A steady, sturdy, staunch believer." --Robert Burns. 526 What does Christ teach regarding salvation? "Whosoever liveth and believeth in me shall never die" (John xi, 26). "He that believeth on him is not condemned; but he that believeth not is condemned already" (iii, 18). "He that believeth on the Son hath everlasting life: and he that believeth not on the Son shall not see life" (36). A demand so preposterous could have been made only in support of claims that were realized to be untenable. Credulity was appealed to because convincing evidence could not be adduced. Claims which reason rejects are manifestly false, and it is only by a renunciation of reason that they can be accepted as true. The absurdity of this requirement of Christ is thus exposed by the poet Shelley: "This is the pivot upon which all religions turn; they all assume that it is in our power to believe or not to believe: whereas the mind can only believe that which it thinks true. A human being can only be supposed accountable for those actions which are influenced by his will. But belief is utterly distinct from and unconnected with volition: it is the apprehension of the agreement or disagreement of the ideas that compose any proposition. Belief is a passion or involuntary operation of the mind, and, like other passions, its intensity is precisely proportionate to the degree of excitement. Volition is essential to merit or demerit. But the Christian religion attaches the highest possible degree of merit and demerit to that which is worthy of neither, and which is totally unconnected with the peculiar faculty of the mind whose presence is essential to their being" (Notes to Queen Mab). 527 Did Christ abrogate the Mosaic law? "Till heaven and earth pass, one jot or one tittle shall in no wise pass from the law" (Matthew v, 18). "The law and the prophets were until John; since that time the Kingdom of God is preached" (Luke xvi, 16). Paul: "The law was our schoolmaster to bring us unto Christ, that we might be justified by faith. But after that faith is come we are no longer under a schoolmaster" (Galatians iii, 24, 25). "But now we are delivered from the law" (Romans vii, 6). "Christ certainly did come to destroy the law and the prophets."--Henry Ward Beecher. 528 What is taught regarding the forgiveness of sin? "He [God] is faithful and just to forgive sins" (1 John i, 9). "The Son of man hath power on earth to forgive sins" (Mark ii, 10). "Today I offer you the pardon of the gospel--full pardon, free pardon. I do not care what your crime has been. Though you say you have committed a crime against God, against your own soul, against your fellow-man, against your family, against the day of judgment, against the cross of Christ--whatever your crime has been, here is pardon, full pardon, and the very moment you take that pardon your heavenly Father throws his arms about you and says: 'My son, I forgive you. It is all right. You are as much in my favor now as if you never had sinned.'"--Dr. Talmage. This doctrine of forgiveness of sin is a premium on crime. "Forgive us our sins" means "Let us continue in our iniquity." It is one of the most pernicious of doctrines, and one of the most fruitful sources of immorality. It has been the chief cause of making Christian nations the most immoral of nations. In teaching this doctrine Christ committed a sin for which his death did not atone, and which can never be forgiven. There is no forgiveness of sin. Every cause has its effect; every sinner must suffer the consequences of his sins. 529 What is taught regarding future rewards and punishments? "He that believeth and is baptized shall be saved; but he that believeth not shall be damned" (Mark xvi, 16). These words, while appearing in the unauthentic appendix to Mark, yet express clearly the alleged teachings of Jesus. Above all they have formed the key note of orthodox Christianity in all ages of the church. Between the lines of this passage the eye of the unfettered mind discerns in large capitals the word FRAUD. These words are the words of an impostor. Had Jesus been divine he would not have been compelled to resort to bribes and threats to secure the world's adherence. Had he even been a sincere man he would not have desired converts on such terms. These words are either the utterance of a false Messiah, conscious of his impotency, or the invention of priests who intended them to frighten the ignorant and credulous into an acceptance of their faith. Concerning this teaching Col. Ingersoll says: "Redden your hands with human blood; blast by slander the fair fame of the innocent; strangle the smiling child upon its mother's knees; deceive, ruin, and desert the beautiful girl who loves and trusts you, and your case is not hopeless. For all this, and for all these, you may be forgiven. For all this, and for all these, that bankrupt court established by the gospel will give you a discharge; but deny the existence of these divine ghosts, of these gods, and the sweet and tearful face of Mercy becomes livid with eternal hate. Heaven's golden gates are shut, and you, with an infinite curse ringing in your ears, with the brand of infamy upon your brow, commence your endless wanderings in the lurid gloom of hell--an immortal vagrant, an eternal outcast, a deathless convict." "A gloomy heaven above opening its jealous gates to the nineteen-thousandth part of the tithe of mankind! And below an inexorable Hell expanding its leviathan jaws for the vast residue of mortals! O doctrine comfortable and healing to the weary wounded soul of man!"--Robert Burns. 530 Did he teach the doctrine of endless punishment? "And these shall go away into everlasting punishment" (Matthew xxv, 46). That is the most infamous passage in all literature. It is the language, not of an incarnate God, but of an incarnate devil. The being who gave utterance to those words deserves not the worship, but the execration of mankind. The priests who preach this doctrine of eternal pain are fiends. There is misery enough in this world without adding to it the mental anguish of this monstrous lie. Less than a hundred years ago, when Christ was yet believed to be divine, in nearly every pulpit, to frighten timid and confiding mothers, dimpled babes were consigned to the red flames of this eternal hell. Then came the preachers of humanity--the Ballous, the Channings, the Parkers and the Beechers--preachers with hearts and brains, who sought to humanize this heavenly demon, to make of him a decent man, and civilize his fiendish priests. To these men is due the debt of everlasting gratitude. With the return of every spring the emancipated of the race should build above their sacred dust a pyramid of flowers. Not by the sects known as Universalists and Unitarians, small in numbers, though in the character of their adherents the greatest of the Christian sects, must we estimate the importance of the work of Ballou and Channing and other Liberal ministers. The influence of their teachings has permeated every Christian sect, and quickened every humane conscience. In the minds of all intelligent Christians, largely as the result of their labors, this heartless demon and this cruel dogma are dead. In their creeds they still survive. They are ashamed of the dogma; they abhor it. They should abhor its author, and banish both. "What! I should call on that Infinite Love that has served us so well? Infinite cruelty rather, that made everlasting hell, Made us, foreknew us, foredoom'd us, and does what he will with his own; Better our dead brute mother who never has heard us groan." --Tennyson. 531 Is it possible to fall from grace? Peter: "If after they have escaped the pollutions of the world through the knowledge of the Lord and Savior Jesus Christ, they are again entangled therein, and overcome, the latter end is worse with them than the beginning" (2 Peter ii, 20). "My sheep hear my voice, and I know them, and they follow me: and I give unto them eternal life; and they shall never perish, neither shall any man pluck them out of my hand" (John x, 27, 28). "There is no condemnation for them that believe and are baptized."--Confession of Faith, Art. IX. 532 Is baptism essential to salvation? "He that believeth and is baptized shall be saved" (Mark xvi, 16). "Except a man be born of the water and of the Spirit, he cannot enter the Kingdom of God" (John iii, 5). "Go ye, therefore, and teach all nations, baptizing them" (Matthew xxviii, 19). Was the penitent thief baptized? Paul says: "I thank God that I baptized none of you, but Crispus and Gaius.... For Christ sent me not to baptize, but to preach the gospel" (1 Corinthians i, 14, 17). 533 What constitutes Christian baptism, immersion or sprinkling? With millions of Bibles in circulation, the Christian does not know. If he affirms, as many scholars affirm, that immersion is the mode authorized by the Bible, then he must admit that the greater portion of Christendom has rejected this mode and adopted one not authorized by the Scriptures. To whom is this rite to be administered, to both adults and infants, or to adults alone? After eighteen centuries of controversy; after employing millions of priests to interpret the Scriptures; after Anabaptists and Pedobaptists have baptized their swords in each others' blood, the church is not prepared to answer. 534 Did Christ command his disciples to repeat and perpetuate the observance of the Eucharist? Luke: He did. "This do in remembrance of me." Matthew, Mark and John: He did not. It is admitted by Dr. Westcott and others that the earlier versions of Luke did not contain the injunction quoted. Christ, then, according to the Four Gospels did not institute the Eucharist as a sacrament to be observed by his disciples and the church. Referring to the Twelve Apostles, the Rev. Dr. Minot J. Savage says: "They knew nothing about any sacraments; they had not been instituted" (What is Christianity?). 535 What did he teach in regard to the efficacy of prayer? "All things whatsoever ye shall ask in prayer, believing, ye shall receive" (Matthew xxi, 22). This is one of the cardinal doctrines of his religion. He is continually impressing upon the minds of his hearers the necessity and the efficacy of prayer. Referring to this doctrine, Greg says: "This doctrine has in all ages been a stumbling block to the thoughtful. It is obviously irreconcilable with all that reason and revelation teach us of the divine nature; and the inconsistency has been felt by the ablest of the Scripture writers themselves. Various and desperate have been the expedients and suppositions resorted to, in order to reconcile the conception of an immutable, all-wise, all-foreseeing God, with that of a father who is turned from his course by the prayers of his creatures. But all such efforts are, and are felt to be, hopeless failures. They involve the assertion and negation of the same proposition in one breath. The problem remains still insoluble; and we must either be content to leave it so, or we must abandon one or other of the hostile premises. "The religious man, who believes that all events, mental as well as physical, are pre-ordered and arranged according to the decrees of infinite wisdom, and the philosopher, who knows that, by the wise and eternal laws of the universe, cause and effect are indissolubly chained together, and that one follows the other in inevitable succession--equally feel that this ordination--this chain--cannot be changed at the cry of man. To suppose that it can is to place the whole harmonious system of nature at the mercy of the weak reason and the selfish wishes of humanity. If the purposes of God were not wise, they would not be formed: if wise, they cannot be changed, for then they would become unwise. To suppose that an all-wise Being would alter his designs and modes of proceeding at the entreaty of an unknowing creature, is to believe that compassion would change his wisdom into foolishness.... If the universe is governed by fixed laws, or (which is the same proposition in different language), if all events are pre-ordained by the foreseeing wisdom of an infinite God, then the prayers of thousands of years and generations of martyrs and saints cannot change or modify one iota of our destiny. The proposition is unassailable by the subtlest logic. The weak, fond affections of humanity struggle in vain against the unwelcome conclusion" (Creed of Christendom, pp. 322, 323). 536 Where are we commanded to pray? "When thou prayest enter into thy closet" (Matthew vi, 6). How long ought we to continue in prayer? "Men ought always to pray" (Luke xviii, 1). 537 Did Christ assume for himself the power of answering petitions? "Whatsoever ye shall ask in my name that will I do" (John xiv, 13). But soon realizing that his capital was too small to conduct a business of such magnitude, he was compelled to announce that, "Whatsoever ye shall ask of the Father in my name, he may give it you" (xv, 16). 538 Does God know our wants? "Your father knoweth what things ye have need of before ye ask him" (Matthew vi, 8). Then what is the use of prayer? Is God a mischievous urchin taunting his hungry dog with a morsel of bread, and shouting, "Beg, Tray, beg!"? 539 What portion of their goods did he require the rich to give the poor to obtain salvation? Rich Ruler, No. 1: "Good Master, what shall I do to inherit eternal life?" (Luke xviii, 18.) Jesus: "Sell all that thou hast and distribute unto the poor" (22). Rich Ruler, No. 2: "Lord, the half of my goods I give to the poor" (Luke xix, 8). Jesus: "This day is salvation come to this house" (9). 540 What did he teach respecting the publicity of good works? "Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works" (Matthew v, 16). "Take heed that ye do not your righteousness before men to be seen of them" (vi, 1, New Ver.). 541 What original rules of table observance did he teach his disciples? Matthew: To abstain from washing their hands before eating. "They wash not their hands when they eat bread" (xv, 2). John: To wash their feet after eating. "He riseth from supper, and laid aside his garments; and took a towel and girded himself. After that he poured water into a basin, and began to wash the disciples' feet, and to wipe them with the towel wherewith he was girded" (xiii, 4, 5). The proneness of Christ's followers to neglect his ordinances and precepts which require some sacrifice or effort to obey, and the readiness with which they observe those which do not, find a fitting illustration in the reception accorded these teachings. While the early Christians, many of them, accepted the first as a religious obligation not to be violated, the second was ignored. Writing of Christian monks and nuns, Lecky says: "The cleanliness of the body was regarded as a pollution of the soul, and the saints who were most admired had become one hideous mass of clotted filth. St. Athanasius relates with enthusiasm how St. Antony, the patriarch of monachism, had never, to extreme old age, been guilty of washing his feet.... St. Abraham the hermit, however, who lived for fifty years after his conversion, rigidly refused from that date to wash either his face or feet.... St. Euphraxia joined a convent of one hundred and thirty nuns, who never washed their feet, and who shuddered at the mention of a bath" (European Morals, Vol. II, pp. 109, 110). 542 What religious formula is to be found in the New Testament? "In the name of Jesus." "In the name of Jesus" the disciples cast out devils and performed other miracles; "In the name of Jesus" they baptized their converts; "In the name of Jesus" salvation was secured. This formula, with various modifications, is in general use in the church today. It betrays the heathen origin of Christianity. Referring to its use Prof. Meinhold of Bonn University says: "Name and person were at one time closely combined, and elementary religious ideas were connected with the words. He who knew the name of a divinity and could pronounce it was in this way able to secure a blessing. It was the use of the name of Jesus in the sacraments that made them effective, in the spirit of sorcery. This idea came from the lowest type of religious thought, reflected in religious mysteries in the days of Jesus, and was embodied in the earliest Christianity." 543 What is taught respecting the use of oaths? God: "Swear by my name" (Jeremiah xii, 16). Christ: "Swear not at all" (Matthew v, 34). 544 What opposing rules of proselytism did Christ promulgate? "He that is not with me is against me" (Luke xi, 23). "He that is not against us is for us" (Luke ix, 50). 545 What is to befall him that hath nothing? "Whosoever hath not, from him shall be taken away even that he hath" (Matthew xiii, 12). Ex nihilo nihil fit. 546 What did he say would be the fate of those who took up the sword? "They that take the sword shall perish with the sword" (Matthew xxvi, 52). He evidently considered this commendable, for he immediately issued the following command to his disciples: "He that hath no sword let him sell his garments and buy one" (Luke xxii, 36). 547 What did he say regarding the fear of death? "Be not afraid of them that kill the body" (Luke xii, 4). "After these things Jesus walked in Galilee: for he would not walk in Jewry, because the Jews sought to kill him" (John vii, 1). 548 What is to be the earthly reward of those that follow Christ? "There is no man that hath left house, or brethren, or sisters, or father, or mother, or wife, or children, or lands, for my sake, and the gospel's, but he shall receive a hundred fold now in this time" (Mark x, 29, 30). "Who is he that will harm you, if ye be followers of that which is good?" (1 Peter iii, 13.) "For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light" (Matthew xi, 30). "In the world ye shall have tribulation" (John xvi, 33). "Ye shall be hated of all men for my name's sake" (Luke xxi, 17). "Yea, and all that will live godly in Christ Jesus shall suffer persecution" (2 Tim. iii, 12). "For whom the Lord loveth he chasteneth, and scourgeth every son whom he receiveth" (Hebrews xii, 6). 549 What promise did Christ make to Paul at the commencement of his ministry? "I am with thee and no man shall set on thee to hurt thee" (Acts xviii, 10). "Of the Jews five times received I forty stripes save one. Thrice was I beaten with rods, once was I stoned" (2 Corinthians xi, 24, 25). 550 How are Christ's true followers to be distinguished from those of the devil? "Whosoever is born of God doth not commit sin" (1 John iii, 9). "He that committeth sin is of the devil" (8). Judged by this standard what is the comparative strength of these sovereigns' subjects? "There is no man that sinneth not" (1 Kings viii, 46). "There is not a just man upon earth" (Ecclesiastes vii, 20). "There is none righteous, no, not one" (Romans iii, 10). 551 Great stress is placed upon the moral teachings of Jesus. What did he teach? Did he advocate industry and frugality? "Lay not up for yourselves treasures upon earth" (Matthew vi, 19). "Take no thought for your life what ye shall eat or what ye shall drink; nor yet for your body, what ye shall put on" (25). "Take therefore no thought for the morrow" (34). 552 What were the early Christians? Acts: They were Communists. "They had all things common.... For as many as were possessors of land or houses sold them, and brought the prices of the things that were sold, and laid them down at the apostles' feet; and distribution was made unto every man according as he had need" (iv, 32-35). Most Christians condemn Communism; but was the Communism of nineteen hundred years ago better than the Communism of today? To condemn Communism is to condemn primitive Christianity. Yet, Christians profess to abhor the Communistic ideas of modern teachers, while they worship as a God the founder of this Communistic sect of Palestine. 553 What did he teach respecting poverty and wealth? "Blessed be ye poor" (Luke vi, 20). "Woe unto you that are rich" (24). Poverty is a curse; wealth honestly acquired and wisely used is a blessing. "The rich man's wealth is his strong city: the destruction of the poor is their poverty" (Proverbs x, 15). 554 In the parable of the Rich Man and Lazarus, what befell the representatives of vagrancy and respectability? "The beggar died, and was carried by the angels into Abraham's bosom" (Luke xvi, 22). "The rich man also died, ... and in hell he lifted up his eyes" (22, 23). "See the red flames around him twine Who did in gold and purple shine! "While round the saint so poor below, Full rivers of salvation flow. "Jesus, my Lord, let me appear The meanest of thy creatures here." 555 Why was Dives' request that his brothers be informed of their impending fate refused? "They have Moses and the prophets; let them hear them" (Luke xvi, 29). Moses and the prophets do not teach the doctrine of endless punishment, nor even that of a future existence, much less that the mere possession of wealth, acquired perhaps by honest industry, is a crime which can be expiated only by the sufferings of an endless hell. Christ's Kingdom was a kingdom of vagrants and paupers. "A rich man shall hardly enter into the kingdom of heaven" (Matthew xix, 23). "It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle, than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of God" (24). 556 While at the temple with his disciples what act did he commend? Mark and Luke: That of the poor widow who threw two mites into the treasury (Mark xii, 43; Luke xxi, 3). This widow's offering illustrates the characteristic generosity of the poor and the heartless greed of the church. This text has enabled a horde of indolent priests to prey upon widows and orphans; to filch the scanty earnings of the poor, and live like parasites upon the weak and sickly calves of humanity. 557 Did he practice the virtue of temperance? "The Son of Man is come eating and drinking; and ye say, Behold a gluttonous man and a winebibber" (Luke vii, 34). 558 What was his first miracle? John: "There was a marriage in Cana of Galilee.... And both Jesus was called, and his disciples, to the marriage. And when they wanted wine, the mother of Jesus saith unto him, They have no wine.... And there were set there six water pots of stone, ... containing two or three firkins apiece. Jesus saith unto them, Fill the water pots with water. And they filled them up to the brim" (ii, 1-7). This water he turned into wine. Here is Christ supplying a party already "well drunk" with more than one hundred gallons of wine. As they were intoxicated when he performed the miracle, would it not have been better for them and better for the millions who have accepted him as a moral guide, if at the beginning of the feast he had turned the wine into water? The morality taught by Jesus suffers in comparison with that taught by Mohammed. Mohammed prohibited the use of intoxicating drink, and the Mohammedans are a temperate people; Jesus sanctioned the use of intoxicating drink, and the Christian world abounds with drunkenness. Referring to the miracle at Cana, Strauss says: "Not only, however, has the miracle been impeached in relation to possibility, but also in relation to utility and fitness. It has been urged both in ancient and modern times, that it was unworthy of Jesus that he should not only remain in the society of drunkards, but even further their intemperance by an exercise of his miraculous power" (Leben Jesu, p. 584). 559 Did he oppose slavery? All: He did not. "Slavery was incorporated into the civil institutions of Moses; it was recognized accordingly by Christ and his apostles."--Rev. Dr. Nathan Lord, President of Dartmouth College. "At the time of the advent of Jesus Christ, slavery in its worst forms prevailed over the world. The Savior found it around him in Judea; the apostles met with it in Asia, Greece and Italy. How did they treat it? Not by denunciation of slave-holding as necessarily sinful."--Prof. Hodge of Princeton. "I have no doubt if Jesus Christ were now on earth that he would, under certain circumstances, become a slaveholder."--Rev. Dr. Taylor of Yale. Rousseau says: "Christ preaches only servitude and dependence.... True Christians are made to be slaves." 560 What did the apostles teach? Peter: "Servants [slaves], be subject to your masters with all fear; not only to the good and gentle, but also to the froward" (1 Peter ii, 18). Paul: "Let as many servants [slaves] as are under the yoke count their own masters worthy of all honor" (1 Timothy vi, 1). "Servants, be obedient to them that are your masters according to the flesh, with fear and trembling" (Ephesians vi, 5). The Rev. Dr. Wilbur Fisk, president of Wesleyan University, says: "The New Testament enjoins obedience upon the slave as an obligation due to a present rightful authority." 561 Did he favor marriage? Matthew: He advocated celibacy, and even self-mutilation as preferable to marriage (xix, 10-12). Following this teaching of their Master, Christians, many of them, have condemned marriage. A Christian pope, Siricius, branded it as "a pollution of the flesh." St. Jerome taught that the duty of the saint was to "cut down by the axe of Virginity the wood of Marriage." Pascal says: "Marriage is the lowest and most dangerous condition of the Christian." G. W. Foote of England says: "Jesus appears to have despised the union of the sexes, therefore marriage, and therefore the home. He taught that in heaven, where all is perfect, there is neither marrying nor giving in marriage." "Monks and nuns innumerable owe to this evil teaching their shriveled lives and withered hearts."--Mrs. Besant. 562 What did he encourage women to do? Luke: To leave their husbands and homes, and follow and associate with him and his roving apostles--"Mary, called Magdalene, out of whom went seven devils, and Joanna the wife of Chuza, Herod's steward, and Susanna, and many others, which ministered unto him of their substance" (viii, 2, 3). 563 What did he say respecting children? "Suffer little children to come unto me and forbid them not." But it was only the children of Jews he welcomed. The afflicted child of a Gentile he spurned as a dog. When the woman of Canaan desired him to heal her daughter, he brutally replied: "It is not meet to take the children's bread and cast it to the dogs" (Matthew xv, 26). The soldiers who spit on Jesus in Pilate's hall did not do a meaner thing than Jesus did that day. And if he afterwards consented to cure the child it was not as an act of humanity to the sufferer, but as a reward for the mother's faith in him. Concerning this brutal act of Jesus, Helen Gardener says: "Do you think that was kind? Do you think it was godlike? What would you think of a physician, if a woman came to him distressed and said, 'Doctor, come to my daughter; she is very ill. She has lost her reason, and she is all I have!' What would you think of the doctor who would not reply at all at first, and then, when she fell at his feet and worshiped him, answered that he did not spend his time doctoring dogs? Would you like him as a family physician? Do you think that, even if he were to cure the child then, he would have done a noble thing? Is it evidence of a perfect character to accompany a service with an insult? Do you think that a man who could offer such an indignity to a sorrowing mother has a perfect character, is an ideal God?" 564 He enjoined the observance of the commandment, "Honor thy father and thy mother." Did he respect it himself? More striking examples of filial ingratitude are not to be found than are exhibited in the Gospel history of Jesus Christ. When visiting Jerusalem with his parents, he allows them to depart for home without him, thinking that he is with another part of the company; and when they return to search for him and find him, he manifests no concern for the trouble he has caused; when during his ministry his mother and brothers are announced, he receives them with a sneer; at the marriage feast, when his mother kindly speaks to him, he brutally exclaims, "Woman, what have I to do with thee?" Throughout the Four Gospels not one respectful word to that devoted mother is recorded. Even in his last hours, when the mental anguish of that mother must have equaled his own physical suffering, not one word of comfort or farewell greeting escapes from his lips; but the same studied disrespect that has characterized him all his life is exhibited here. 565 Did he not promote domestic strife? "Suppose ye that I am come to give peace on earth? I tell you, Nay; but rather division: for from henceforth there shall be five in one house divided, three against two, and two against three. The father against the son, and the son against the father; the mother against the daughter, and the daughter against the mother; the mother-in-law against her daughter-in-law, and the daughter-in-law against her mother-in-law" (Luke xii, 51-53). "Think not that I am come to send peace on earth: I came not to send peace, but a sword. For I am come to set a man at variance against his father, and the daughter against her mother, and the daughter-in-law against her mother-in-law" (Matthew x, 34, 35). 566 What did he require of his disciples? "If any man come to me, and hate not his father, and mother, and wife, and children, and brethren and sisters, yea, and his own life also, he cannot be my disciple" (Luke xiv, 26). It is scarcely possible in this age of enlightenment and unbelief to realize what sorrows and miseries these accursed teachings of Christ once caused. The eminent historian Lecky, in his "History of European Morals," has attempted to describe some of their awful consequences. From his pages I quote the following: "To break by his ingratitude the heart of the mother who had borne him, to persuade the wife who adored him that it was her duty to separate from him forever, to abandon his children, uncared for and beggars, to the mercies of the world, was regarded by the true hermit as the most acceptable offering he could make to his God. His business was to save his own soul. The serenity of his devotion would be impaired by the discharge of the simplest duties to his family. Evagrius, when a hermit in the desert, received, after a long interval, letters from his father and mother. He could not bear that the equable tenor of his thought should be disturbed by the recollection of those who loved him, so he cast the letters unread into the fire. A man named Mutius, accompanied by his only child, a little boy of eight years old, abandoned his possessions and demanded admission into a monastery. The monks received him, but they proceeded to discipline his heart. 'He had already forgotten that he was rich; he must next be taught to forget that he was a father.' His little child was separated from him, clothed in rags, subjected to every form of gross and wanton hardship, beaten, spurned and ill-treated. Day after day the father was compelled to look upon his boy wasting away with sorrow, his once happy countenance forever stained with tears, distorted by sobs of anguish. But yet, says the admiring biographer, 'though he saw this day by day, such was his love for Christ, and for the virtue of obedience, that the father's heart was rigid and unmoved' (Vol. ii, 125, 126). "He [St. Simeon Stylites] had been passionately loved by his parents, and, if we may believe his eulogist and biographer, he began his saintly career by breaking the heart of his father, who died of grief at his flight. His mother, however, lingered on. Twenty-seven years after his disappearance, at a period when his austerities had made him famous, she heard for the first time where he was and hastened to visit him. But all her labor was in vain. No woman was admitted within the precincts of his dwelling, and he refused to permit her even to look upon his face. Her entreaties and tears were mingled with words of bitter and eloquent reproach. 'My son,' she is represented as having said, 'why have you done this? I bore you in my womb, and you have wrung my soul with grief. I gave you milk from my breast, you have filled my eyes with tears. For the kisses I gave you, you have given me the anguish of a broken heart; for all that I have done and suffered for you, you have repaid me by the most cruel wrongs.' At last the saint sent a message to her to tell her that she would soon see him. Three days and three nights she had wept and entreated in vain, and now, exhausted with grief and age and privation, she sank feebly to the ground and breathed her last sigh before that inhospitable door. Then for the first time the saint, accompanied by his followers, came out. He shed some pious tears over the corpse of his murdered mother, and offered up a prayer consigning her soul to heaven" (Ibid, 130). 567 Did he not indulge in vituperation and abuse? "Ye fools and blind" (Matthew xxiii, 17). "Woe unto you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites" (14). "All that ever came before me are thieves and robbers" (John x, 8). "Ye serpents, ye generation of vipers, how can ye escape the damnation of hell?" (Matthew xxiii, 33.) Regarding these abusive epithets of Christ, Prof. Newman says: "The Jewish nation may well complain that they have been cruelly slandered by the gospels. The invectives have been burnt into the heart of Christendom, so that the innocent Jews, children of the dispersion, have felt in millennial misery--yes, and to this day feel--the deadly sting of these fierce and haughty utterances" (Jesus Christ, p. 25). 568 Relate his treatment of the Pharisee who invited him to dine with him. Luke: "And as he spake, a certain Pharisee besought him to dine with him; and he went in, and sat down to meat. And when the Pharisee saw it, he marveled that he had not first washed before dinner. And the Lord said unto him, now do ye Pharisees make clean the outside of the cup and the platter; but your inward part is full of ravening and wickedness. Ye fools ... hypocrites!" (xi, 37-44.) Was such insolence of manners on the part of Jesus calculated to promote the interest of the cause he professed to hold so dear at heart? Supposing a Freethinker were to receive an invitation to dine with a Christian friend and were to repay the hospitality of his host with rudeness and abuse, interrupting the ceremony of "grace" with an oath or a sneer, and showering upon the head of his friend such epithets as "hypocrite" and "fool." Would such insolent behavior have a tendency to gain for him the world's esteem or aid the cause he represents? And are we to approve in a God conduct that we regard as detestable in a man? It may be urged that God is not subject to the rules of human conduct. Grant it; but is it necessary for him in order to exhibit his divine character to assume the manners of a brute? 569 Do the Pharisees deserve the sweeping condemnation heaped upon them by Christ and his followers? In marked contrast to the diatribes of Jesus is the testimony of Josephus: "Now, for the Pharisees, they live meanly [plainly], and despise delicacies in diet, and they follow the conduct of reason; and what that prescribes to them as good for them, they do; and they think they ought earnestly to strive to observe reason's dictates for practice.... The cities give great attestations to them on account of their entire virtuous conduct, both in the actions of their lives, and their discourses also" (Antiquities, Book xviii, chap. i, sec. 3). Paul, the Christian, when arraigned before Agrippa, believed that no loftier testimonial to his character could be adduced than the fact that he had been a Pharisee (Acts xxvi, 4, 5). 570 What is said in regard to his purging the temple? John: "And the Jews' Passover was at hand, and Jesus went up to Jerusalem, and found in the temple those that sold oxen and sheep and doves, and the changers of money sitting: and when he had made a scourge of small cords, he drove them all out of the temple, and the sheep, and the oxen; and poured out the changers' money, and overthrew the tables" (ii, 13-15). No currency but the Jewish was accepted in the temple, while doves, lambs, and other animals were required for offerings. These persons performed the very necessary office of supplying the Jews with offerings and exchanging Jewish coins for the Roman money then in general circulation. What right he had to interfere with the lawful business of these men, and especially in the manner in which he did, it is difficult to understand. 571 Describe the cursing of the fig tree. Matthew: "Now in the morning as he returned into the city, he hungered. And when he saw a fig tree in the way, he came to it, and found nothing thereon, but leaves only, and said unto it, Let no fruit grow on thee henceforward for ever. And presently the fig tree withered away" (xxi, 18, 19). Jesus cursed a living tree and it died; Mohammed blessed a dead tree and it lived. The alleged conduct of Jesus on many occasions, notably his harsh treatment of his mother, his abuse of the Pharisees, his purging the temple and his cursing the fig tree, is not the conduct of a rational being, but rather that of a madman. If these stories be historical they would indicate that he was not wholly responsible for his words and acts. Dr. Jules Soury, of the University of France, believes that he was the victim of an incurable mental disorder. In a work on morbid psychology, entitled "Studies on Jesus and The Gospels," Dr. Soury cites a long array of seemingly indisputable facts in support of his theory. From his preface to the work, I quote the following: "Jesus the God, gone down in his glory, like a star sunk beneath the horizon but still shedding a few faint rays on the world, threw a halo round the brow of Jesus the Prophet. In the dull glow of that twilight, in the melancholy but charming hour when everything seemed wrapped in vague, ethereal tints, Jesus appeared to Strauss and Renan such as he had shown himself to his first disciples, the Master par-excellence, a man truly divine. Then came the night; and as darkness descended on those flickering gospel beginnings there remained nought to be descried through the obscurity of dubious history, but dimly looming, the portentous outline of the gibbet and its victim. "In the present work Jesus makes his appearance, perhaps for the first time, as a sufferer from a grave malady, the course of which we have attempted to trace. "The nervous, or cerebral disorder, at first congestive and then inflammatory, under which he labored, was not only deep-seated and dangerous--it was incurable. Among us at the present time that affection may be seen daily making kings, millionaires, popes, prophets, saints, and even divinities of poor fellows who have lost their balance; it has produced more than one Messiah. "If we be right in the interpretation of data which has been followed in the study of morbid psychology, Jesus, at the time of his death, was in a somewhat advanced stage of this disorder, He was, to all appearance, cut off opportunely; the gibbet saved him from actual madness. "The diagnosis which we have ventured to draw is based on three sets of facts which are attested by the most ancient and trustworthy of the witnesses of his career. "1. Religious excitement, then general in Palestine, drove Jesus to the wilderness, where he lived some time the life of a recluse, as those who considered themselves to have the prophetic mission often did. Carried away with the idea that he was divinely inspired to proclaim the coming of the Messiah, he left his own people and his native place, and, attended by a following of fishermen and others of the same class, went about among the towns and villages of Galilee announcing the speedy approach of the Kingdom of Heaven. "2. After having proclaimed the coming of the Messiah, like other contemporary Jewish prophets, Jesus gradually came to look upon himself as the Messiah, the Christ. He allowed himself to be called the Son of David, the Son of God, and had among his followers one, if not more, of those fanatical Sicarii, so graphically described by Josephus, who were waiting for the deliverance of Israel from the yoke of Rome. Progressive obliteration of the consciousness of his personal identity marks the interval between the somewhat vague revelation which he made to his disciples at the foot of Mount Hermon and the day when, before Caiaphas and before Pilate, he openly declared that he was the Messiah, and by that token the King of the Jews. "3. The cursing of the fig tree whereon there were no figs, because 'the time of figs was not yet,' the violent conduct toward the dealers and changers at the temple, were manifestly foolish acts. Jesus had come to believe that everything was permitted him, that all things belonged to him, that nothing was too hard for him to do. For a long time he had given evident signs of perversion of the natural affections, especially with respect to his mother and brethren. To the fits of anger against the priests and religious ministers of his nation, to the ambitious extravagance of his words and acts, to the wild dream of his Messianic grandeur, there rapidly supervened a characteristic depression of the mental faculties and strength, a giving way of the intellectual and muscular powers. "Each of those periods in the career of Jesus corresponds to a certain pathological state of his nervous system. "By reacting on the heart, the religious excitement he labored under and the attendant functional exacerbations had the immediate effect of accelerating the circulation, unduly dilating the blood vessels, and producing cerebral congestion. "Chronic congestion of the brain, subjectively considered, is always attended in the initial stage with great increase of the moral consciousness, extraordinary activity of the imagination, often leading to hallucinations, and later on with absurdly exaggerated, frequently delirious ideas of power and greatness. That stage is also usually characterized by irritability and fits of passion. "Objectively considered what is observable is hypertrophy of the cellules and nerve-tubes, excessive cerebral plethora and vascularity due to the great efflux of blood and superabundant nutrition of the encephalon. Inflammation of the meningeal covering, and of the brain itself, is, sooner or later, a further result of the chronic congestion. The vessels, turgid and loaded with blood, permit the transudation of the blood globules; the circulation becomes impeded, then arrested, with the result of depriving the cortical cerebral substance of arterial blood, which is its life; the histological elements undergo alteration, degenerate, become softened, and as the disorganization proceeds are finally reduced to inert detritus. "The brain may remain capable more or less well of performing its functions when deprived to a large extent of its necessary food, but not so when the cerebral cellules are disorganized. Dementia consequently is the natural sequel of the congestive stage. To the destruction of the cortical substance supervenes partial or total loss of consciousness, according to the extent of the lesion. Such portions of the encephalon as continue capable of performing any duty being in a state of hyperaemia, there is often delirium more or less intense up to the last. "The process of the disorder is irregular; remissions occur during which the reasoning faculties seem to be recovered. But whether the duration extends only to a few months or to several years, the increasing weakness of the patient, the intellectual and muscular decay, the cachetic state into which he falls, the lesions of other organs performing essential functions which ensue, bring life to a close, and frequently without suffering. "This is how Jesus would have ended had he been spared the violent death of the cross." Nearly all the religious founders have been affected, to a greater or less extent, with insanity. Genius itself is closely allied to insanity--is indeed, in many cases, a form of insanity. Moreau de Tours in his "La Psychologie Morbide" (p. 234) says: "The mental disposition which causes a man to be distinguished from his fellows by the originality of his mind and conceptions, by his eccentricity, and the energy of his affective faculties, or by the transcendence of his intelligence, take their rise in the very same organic conditions which are the source of the various mental perturbations whereof insanity and idiocy are the most complete expressions." Buddha, Mohammed, and probably Jesus, united with certain strong mental and moral characteristics, a form of insanity which manifested itself in a sort of religious madness--a madness that was contagious and which has attacked and afflicted the greater portion of the human race. 572 Did he not teach the doctrine of demoniacal possession and exorcism? Synoptics: He did. After alluding to the prevalency of superstition among the Jews of this period, Renan says: "Jesus on this point differed in no respect from his companions. He believed in the devil, whom he regarded as a kind of evil genius, and he imagined, like all the world, that nervous maladies were produced by demons who possessed the patient and agitated him" (Life of Jesus, p. 59). Dr. Geikie says: "The New Testament leaves us in no doubt of the belief, on the part of Jesus and the Evangelists, in the reality of these demoniacal possessions" (Life of Christ, vol. ii, p. 573). Demonology was born of ignorance and superstition. In this debasing superstition Jesus believed. It was a part of his religion, and has remained a part of Christianity; for while the more intelligent of his professed disciples have outgrown this superstition they have to the same extent outgrown Christianity. The more ignorant, the more depraved, and, at the same time, the more devout of his followers, still accept it. Regarding this superstition, the author of "Supernatural Religion" says: "The diseases referred to by the gospels, and by the Jews of that time, to the action of devils, exist now, but they are known to proceed from purely physical causes. The same superstition and medical ignorance would enunciate the same diagnosis at the present day. The superstition and ignorance, however, have passed away, and, with them, the demoniacal theory. In that day the theory was as baseless as in this. It is obvious that, with the necessary abandonment of the theory of 'possession' and demoniacal origin of disease, the largest class of miracles recorded in the gospels is at once exploded. The asserted cause of the diseases of this class, said to have been miraculously healed, must be recognized to be a mere vulgar superstition" (p. 159). Prof. Huxley, in one of his essays, discussing the Gadarene miracle, says: "When such a story as that about the Gadarene swine is placed before us, the importance of the decision, whether it be accepted or rejected, cannot be overestimated. If the demonological part of it is to be accepted, the authority of Jesus is unmistakably pledged to the demonological system current in Judea in the first century. The belief in devils who possess men and can be transferred from men to pigs becomes as much a part of Christian dogma as any article of the creeds." 573 What became of the swine into which Jesus ordered the devils to go? Matthew: "And behold, the whole herd of swine ran violently down a steep place into the sea, and perished in the waters" (viii, 32). It may be pertinent to inquire what these inoffensive animals had done that they should merit such cruelty, or what their owner had done that his property should be thus wantonly destroyed. In his narrative of this miracle Fleetwood says: "The spectators beheld, at a distance, the torments these poor creatures suffered; with what amazing rapidity they ran to the confines of the lake, leaped from the precipices into the sea, and perished in the waters" (Life of Christ, p. 121). In striking contrast to the religion of Buddha, the religion of Christ has made its adherents cruel and unmerciful. To this Christian writer the torture and destruction of these domestic animals is no more than the burning of a field of stubble. In this miracle he sees only a manifestation of love and kindness on the part of his Savior. Referring to the request of the inhabitants that he depart from their country, he says: "The stupid request of the Gadarenes was complied with by the blessed Jesus, who, entering the ship, returned to the country from whence he came, leaving them a valuable pledge of his love, and us a noble pattern of perseverance in well-doing, even when our kindnesses are condemned or requited with injuries" (Ibid, p. 122). 574 What did Jesus say to the strange Samaritan woman whom he met at the well? "Thou hast had five husbands; and he whom thou now hast is not thy husband" (John iv, 18). "Christ here makes himself a wandering gypsy, or Bohemian fortune teller, and I much wonder that our gypsies do not account themselves the genuine disciples of Jesus, being endowed with like gifts, and exercising no worse arts than he himself practiced."--Woolston. 575 Was he not an egotist and given to vulgar boasting? Speaking of himself, he said: "Behold, a greater than Solomon is here" (Matthew xii, 41, 42). 576 Did he not practice dissimulation? John: "And Jesus lifted up his eyes, and said, Father, I thank thee that thou hast heard me. And I know that thou hearest me always, but because of the people which stand by I said it" (xi, 41, 42). Luke: After his resurrection when he intended to stop at Emmaus with his companions, "He made as though he would have gone further" (xxiv, 28). 577 After performing one of his miraculous cures, what charge did he make to those who witnessed it? Mark: "He charged them that they should tell no man: but the more he charged them, so much the more a great deal they published it" (vii, 36). Did he desire them to disregard his commands? If he did he was a hypocrite; if he did not he was an impotent--in either case a fallible man instead of an omnipotent God. 578 On the approach of the Passover what did he say to his brethren? "Go ye up unto this feast; I go not up yet unto this feast" (John vii, 8). The correct reading of the last clause is, "I go not up unto the feast." The American revisers, to their credit, urged the adoption of this reading; but the Oxford revisers retained the error. In uttering these words, Jesus, if omniscient, uttered an untruth; for John says: "But when his brethren were gone up, then went he also up unto the feast, not openly, but as it were in secret" (10). 579 Why did he teach in parables? "That seeing they may see, and not perceive; and hearing they may hear, and not understand; lest at any time they should be converted, and their sins should be forgiven them" (Mark iv, 12). He deceived the people that he might have the pleasure of seeing them damned. 580 What immoral lesson is inculcated in the parable of the Steward? He commends as wise and prudent the action of the steward, who, to provide for his future welfare, causes his master's creditors to defraud him. "There was a certain rich man, which had a steward; and the same was accused unto him that he had wasted his goods. And he called him, and said unto him, How is it that I hear this of thee? give an account of thy stewardship; for thou mayest be no longer steward. Then the steward said within himself, What shall I do? for my lord taketh away from me the stewardship: I cannot dig; to beg I am ashamed. I am resolved what to do, that, when I am put out of the stewardship, they may receive me into their houses. So he called every one of his lord's debtors unto him, and said unto the first, How much owest thou unto my lord? And he said, An hundred measures of oil. And he said unto him, Take thy bill, and sit down quickly, and write fifty. Then said he unto another, And how much owest thou? And he said, An hundred measures of wheat. And he said unto him, Take thy bill and write fourscore. And the lord commended the unjust steward, because he had done wisely; for the children of this world are in their generation wiser than the children of light. And I say unto you, Make to yourselves friends of the mammon of unrighteousness; that, when ye fail, they may receive you into everlasting habitations" (Luke xvi, 1-9). 581 In the parable of the Laborers what unjust doctrine is taught? The assignment of equal rewards for unequal burdens. He justifies the dishonest bargaining of the householder who received twelve hours of labor for a penny, when he paid the same amount for one (Matthew xx, 1-16). Regarding the parables of Jesus, W. P. Ball, an English writer, says: "With one single exception, the parables attributed to Jesus are thoroughly religious and decidedly inferior in their moral tone, besides possessing minor faults. The God who is to be the object of our adoration and imitation is depicted to us as a judge who will grant vengeance in answer to incessant prayer, as a father who loves and honors the favorite prodigal and neglects the faithful and obedient worker, as an employer who pays no more for a life-time than for the nominal service of a death-bed repentance, as an unreasonable master who reaps where he has not sown and punishes men because he made them defective and gave them no instructions, as a harsh despot who delivers disobedient servants to tormentors and massacres those who object to his rule, as a judge who is merciful to harlots and relentless towards unbelievers, as a petulant king who drives beggars and outcasts into the heaven which is ignored by the wise and worthy, as a ruler of the universe who freely permits his enemy the devil to sow evil and then punishes his victims, as a God who plunges men in the flames of hell and calmly philosophizes over the reward of the blest who from Abraham's bosom behold the sight and are not permitted to bestow even so much as a drop of cold water to cool the parched tongues of their fellow-creatures amidst hopeless and unending agonies, in comparison with which all earthly sufferings are but momentary dreams." 582 What did he teach regarding submission to theft and robbery? "Of him that taketh away thy goods ask them not again" (Luke vi, 30). 583 Why was the woman taken in adultery released without punishment? John: Because those having her in custody were not without sin themselves (viii, 3-11). The adoption of this principle would require the liberation of every criminal, because all men are fallible. If man cannot punish crime because not free from sin himself, is it just in God, the author of all sin, to punish man for his sins? 584 Whom did he pronounce blessed? "Blessed are the poor in spirit" (Matthew v, 3). "Is poverty of spirit a blessing? Surely not. Manliness of spirit, honesty of spirit, fulness of rightful purpose, these are virtues; but poverty of spirit is a crime."--Bradlaugh. 585 Did he teach resistance to wrong? "Unto him that smiteth thee on the one cheek offer also the other" (Luke vi, 29). "He who courts oppression shares the crime." Lord Amberley, referring to this teaching of Jesus, says: "A doctrine more convenient for the purposes of tyrants and malefactors of every description it would be difficult to invent" (Analysis of Religious Belief, p. 355). 586 He taught his hearers to return good for evil. Did he do this himself? "I pray for them [his followers], I pray not for the world" (John xvii, 9). "Whosoever shall deny me before men, him will I also deny before my Father" (Matthew x, 33). 587 The Golden Rule has been ascribed to Christ. Was he its author? Five hundred years before the time of Christ Confucius taught: "What you do not like when done to yourself do not to others." Centuries before the Christian era Pittacus, Thales, Sextus, Isocrates and Aristotle taught the same. 588 What maxim does Paul attribute to Jesus? "Remember the words of the Lord Jesus, how he said, It is more blessed to give than to receive" (Acts xx, 35). These are not "the words of the Lord Jesus," but of the Pagan Epicurus, a man whose character Christians have for centuries defamed. Concerning the teachings of Jesus, Col. Thomas W. Higginson says: "When they tell me that Jesus taught a gospel of love, I say I believe it. Plato taught a gospel of love before him, and you deny it. If they say, Jesus taught that it is better to bear an injury than to retaliate, I say, yes, but so did Aristotle before Jesus was born. I will accept it as the statement of Jesus if you will admit that Aristotle said it too. I am willing that any man should come before us and say, Jesus taught that you must love your enemies, it is written in the Bible; but, if he will open the old manuscript of Diogenes Laertus, he may there read in texts that have never been disputed, that the Greek philosophers, half a dozen of them, said the same before Jesus was born." Buckle says: "That the system of morals propounded in the New Testament contained no maxim which had not been previously enunciated, and that some of the most beautiful passages in the apostolic writings are quotations from Pagan authors, is well known to every scholar.... To assert that Christianity communicated to man moral truths previously unknown, argues on the part of the asserter either gross ignorance or wilful fraud" (History of Civilization, vol. i, p. 129). John Stuart Mill says: "It can do truth no service to blind the fact, known to all who have the most ordinary acquaintance with literary history, that a large portion of the noblest and most valuable moral teaching has been the work not only of men who did not know, but of men who knew and rejected the Christian faith" (Liberty). 589 We are told that Christ manifested "a strong and enduring courage which never shrank or quailed before any danger however formidable." Is this true? It is not. When he heard that John was imprisoned, he retreated to the Sea of Galilee (Matthew iv, 12, 13); when John was beheaded, he took a ship and retired to a desert (xiv, 13); in going from Galilee to Judea, he went beyond the Jordan to avoid the Samaritans; when his brethren went up to Jerusalem he refused to accompany them for fear of the Jews (John vii, 8, 9); when the Jews took up stones to stone him he "hid himself" (viii, 59); when the Pharisees took council against him he fled (Matthew xii, 14, 16): at Gethsemane, in the agonies of fear, he prayed that the cup might pass from him; at Calvary, he frantically exclaimed, "My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me!" Commenting on this dying exclamation of Christ, Dr. Conway says: "That cry could never be wrung from the lips of a man who saw in his own death a prearranged plan for the world's salvation, and his own return to divine glory temporarily renounced for transient misery on earth. The fictitious theology of a thousand years shrivels beneath the awful anguish of that cry." 590 What was the character of Christ's male ancestors? Assuming Matthew's genealogy to be correct, nearly all of those whose histories are recorded in the Old Testament were guilty of infamous crimes or gross immoralities. Abraham married his sister and seduced her handmaid; Jacob, after committing bigamy, seduced two of his housemaids; Judah committed incest with his daughter-in-law; David was a polygamist, an adulterer, a robber and a murderer; Solomon had a thousand wives and concubines; Rehoboam, Abijam, Joram, Ahaziah, Jotham, Ahaz, Manasseh, Amon and Jehoiachin, are all represented as monsters of iniquity; while others are declared to have been too vile to even name in his genealogy. 591 What female ancestors are named in his genealogy? Matthew: Thamar, Rachab, Ruth and Bathsheba. Regarding these women the Rev. Dr. Alexander Walker says: "It is remarkable that in the genealogy of Christ, only four women have been named: Thamar, who seduced the father of her late husband; Rachab, a common prostitute; Ruth, who, instead of marrying one of her cousins, went to bed with another of them; and Bathsheba, an adulteress, who espoused David, the murderer of her first husband" (Woman, p. 330). Matthew Henry, a noted Christian commentator, says: "There are four women, and but four, named in this genealogy, ... Rachab, a Canaanitess, and a harlot besides, and Ruth, the Moabitess.... The other two were adulteresses, Tamar and Bathsheba" (Commentary, Vol. v). 592 Who was his favorite female attendant? Luke: "Mary called Magdalene, out of whom went seven devils" (viii, 2). Referring to this woman, Dr. Farrar says: "This exorcism is not elsewhere alluded to, and it would be perfectly in accordance with the genius of Hebrew phraseology if the expression had been applied to her in consequence of a passionate nature and an abandoned life. The Talmudists have much to say respecting her--her wealth, her extreme beauty, her braided locks, her shameless profligacy, her husband Pappus, and her paramour, Pandera" (Life of Christ, p. 162). In a chapter on "Sanctified Prostitution," Dr. Soury writes: "The Jewess is full of naive immodesty, her lip red with desire, her eye moist and singularly luminous in the shade. Yearning with voluptuousness, superb in her triumphs, or merely feline and caressing, she is ever the 'insatiable,' the woman 'with seven devils' of whom the scripture speaks, a kind of burning furnace in which the blond Teuton melts like wax. So far as in her lay, the Syrian woman, with her supple and nervous arms, drew into the tomb the last exhausted sons of Greece and Rome. But who can describe the grace and the soft languor of these daughters of Syria, their large black eyes, the warm bistre tints of their skin? All the poets of the decadence, Catullus, Tibullus, Propercius, have sung this wondrous being. With soft and humble voice, languid and as though crushed by some hidden ill, dragging her limbs over the tiles of a gynaecium, she might have been regarded as a stupid slave. Often, her gaze lost in long reveries, she seemed dead, save that her bosom began to swell, her eye lighted up, her breath quickened, her cheeks became covered with crimson. The reverie becoming a reality by a matchless power of invovation and desire, such is the sacred disease which, thanks to Mary Magdalene, gave birth to Christianity" (Religion of Israel, pp. 70, 71). 593 Who were his apostles? "A dozen knaves, as ignorant as owls and as poor as church mice."--Voltaire. "Palestine was one of the most backward of countries; the Galileans were the most ignorant of the inhabitants of Palestine; and the disciples might be counted among the most simple people of Galilee."--Renan. "His followers were 'unlearned and ignorant men,' chosen from the humblest of the people."--Farrar. 594 What power is Christ said to have bestowed on Peter? "And I will give unto thee the keys of the kingdom of heaven: and whatsoever thou shalt bind on earth shall be bound in heaven: and whatsoever thou shalt loose on earth shall be loosed in heaven" (Matthew xvi, 19). On this remarkable bestowal of power, which has exerted such a mighty influence in the government of the church, but of which Mark, Luke and John know nothing, Greg comments as follows: "Not only do we know Peter's utter unfitness to be the depositary of such a fearful power, from his impetuosity and instability of character, and Christ's thorough perception of this unfitness, but we find immediately after it is said to have been conferred upon him, his Lord addresses him indignantly by the epithet of Satan, and rebukes him for his presumption and unspirituality; and shortly afterwards this very man thrice denied his master. Can any one maintain it to be conceivable that Jesus should have conferred the awful power of deciding the salvation or damnation of his fellow-men upon one so frail, so faulty, and so fallible? Does any one believe that he did?" (Creed of Christendom, p. 189). 595 When Peter discovered that Jesus was the Christ what did he do? Mark: "And Peter took him [Christ] and began to rebuke him" (viii, 32). What did Jesus do in turn? Mark: "He rebuked Peter, saying, Get thee behind me Satan" (33). What a spectacle! The incarnate God of the universe and his vicegerent on earth indulging in a petty quarrel! 596 Give an account of Peter's denial of his Master. Matthew: "Now when Peter sat without in the palace: and a damsel came unto him, saying, Thou also wast with Jesus of Galilee. But he denied before them all, saying, I know not what thou sayest. And when he was gone out into the porch, another maid saw him, and said unto them that were there, This fellow was also with Jesus of Nazareth. And again he denied with an oath, I do not know the man. And after a while came up to him they that stood by, and said to Peter, Surely thou also art one of them; for thy speech bewrayeth thee. Then began he to curse and to swear, saying, I know not the man" (xxvi, 69-74). 597 What did Peter say to Jesus in regard to compensation for his services? "Behold, we have forsaken all, and followed thee; what shall we have therefore?" (Matthew xix, 27). What request was made by James and John? Mark: "They said unto him, Grant unto us that we may sit, one on thy right hand, and the other on thy left hand, in thy glory" (x, 37). This shows that self-aggrandizement inspired the actions of his followers then as it does today. 598 What is said of John in the Gospel of John? "There was leaning on Jesus' bosom one of his disciples whom he loved" (xiii, 23). "The disciple standing by whom he [Jesus] loved" (xix, 26). "The other disciple whom Jesus loved" (xx, 2). "Then Peter, turning about, seeth the disciple whom Jesus loved following; which also leaned on his breast at supper.... This is the disciple which testifieth of these things, and wrote these things" (xxi, 20, 24). If the Apostle John wrote this Gospel, as claimed by Christians and as declared in the Gospel, he was a vulgar egotist. 599 What is said regarding the conduct of his Apostles on the evening preceding the crucifixion? Luke: "And there was also a strife among them, which of them should be accounted the greatest" (xxii, 24). This was immediately after he had announced his speedy betrayal and death and when his disciples, if sincere, must have manifested the deepest sadness and humility. If the Evangelist is not a base calumniator the Apostles were a set of heartless knaves. 600 When the Jews came to arrest Jesus what did the disciples do? Matthew: "Then all the disciples forsook him, and fled" (xxvi, 56). Mark: "And they all forsook him, and fled" (xiv, 50). Justin says: "All his friends [the Apostles] stood aloof from him, having denied him" (Apology i, 50). One scarcely knows which to detest the more, the treachery of Judas in betraying his Master, or the imbecility and cowardice of the other apostles who took no measures to prevent it and who forsook him in the hour of danger. 601 What became of the Twelve Apostles? The New Testament, a portion of which is admitted to have been written as late as the latter part of the first century and nearly all of which was really written in the second century, is silent regarding them. Christian martyrology records their fates as follows: St. Peter was crucified, at his own request head downward, and buried in the Vatican at Rome. St. Andrew, after having been scourged seven times upon his naked body, was crucified by the proconsul of Achaia. St. James was beheaded by Herod Antipas in Palestine. St. John was "thrown into a cauldron of boiling oil" by Domitian, but God "delivered him." St. Philip was scourged and crucified or hanged by the magistrates of Hierapolis. St. Bartholomew was put to death by a Roman governor in Armenia. St. Matthew suffered martyrdom at Naddabar in Ethiopia. St. Thomas was shot to death with arrows by the Brahmans in India. St. James the Less was thrown from the pinnacle of the temple at Jerusalem and dispatched with a club where he fell. St. Simon was "crucified and buried" in Britain. St. Jude was "cruelly put to death" by the Magi of Persia. St. Matthias, the successor of Judas Iscariot, if Christian tradition is to be credited, was put to death three times, crucified, stoned, and beheaded. Nothing can be more incredible than these so-called traditions regarding the martyrdom of the Twelve Apostles, the most of them occurring in an empire where all religious sects enjoyed as perfect religious freedom as the different sects do in America today. Whatever opinion may be entertained respecting the existence of Jesus, the Twelve Apostles belong to the realm of mythology, and their alleged martyrdoms are pure inventions. Had these men really existed Christian history at least would contain some reliable notice of them, yet all the stories relating to them, like the story of Peter at Rome, and John at Ephesus, are self-evident fictions. In the significant words of the eminent Dutch theologians, Dr. Kuenen, Dr. Oort and Dr. Hooykaas, "All the Apostles disappear without a trace." 602 What are Paul's teachings regarding woman and marriage? "It is good for a man not to touch a woman" (1 Corinthians vii, 1). "I say therefore to the unmarried and widows, It is good for them if they abide even as I. But if they cannot contain, let them marry; for it is better to marry than to burn" (8, 9). "Art thou loose from a wife? seek not a wife" (27). "He that is unmarried careth for the things that belong to the Lord, how he may please the Lord; but he that is married careth for the things that are of the world, how he may please his wife. There is difference also between a wife and a virgin. The unmarried woman careth for the things of the Lord, that she may be holy in body and spirit; but she that is married careth for the things of the world, how she may please her husband" (32-34). "So then he that giveth her in marriage doeth well; but he that giveth not in marriage doeth better" (38). "This coarse and insulting way of regarding women, as though they existed merely to be the safety-valves of men's passions, and that the best men were above the temptation of loving them, has been the source of unnumbered evils."--Annie Besant. "Wives, submit yourselves to your own husbands" (Colossians iii, 18). "As the church is subject unto Christ so let the wives be to their own husbands in everything" (Ephesians v, 24). "Let your women keep silence in the churches, for it is not permitted unto them to speak, but they are commanded to be under obedience, as also saith the law. And if they will learn anything, let them ask their husbands at home; for it is a shame for a woman to speak in the church" (1 Corinthians xiv, 34, 35). "Let women learn in silence with all subjection" (1 Timothy ii, 11). "That she [woman] does not crouch today where St. Paul tried to bind her, she owes to the men who are grand and brave enough to ignore St. Paul, and rise superior to his God."--Helen Gardener. 603 Did Paul encourage learning? "The wisdom of this world is foolishness with God" (1 Corinthians iii, 19). "Knowledge puffeth up" (viii, 1). "If any man be ignorant let him be ignorant" (xiv, 38). "Beware lest any man spoil you through philosophy" (Colossians ii, 8). "The clergy, with a few honorable exceptions, have in all modern countries been the avowed enemies of the diffusion of knowledge, the danger of which to their own profession they, by a certain instinct, seem always to have perceived."--Buckle. "We know the clerical party; it is an old party. This it is which has found for the truth those two marvelous supporters, ignorance and error. This it is which forbids to science and genius the going beyond the Missal and which wishes to cloister thought in dogmas. Every step which the intelligence of Europe has taken has been in spite of it. Its history is written in the history of human progress, but it is written on the back of the leaf. It is opposed to it all. This it is which caused Prinelli to be scourged for having said that the stars would not fall. This it is which put Campanella seven times to torture for saying that the number of worlds was infinite and for having caught a glimpse of the secret of creation. This it is which persecuted Harvey for having proved the circulation of the blood. In the name of Jesus it shut up Galileo. In the name of St. Paul it imprisoned Christopher Columbus. To discover a law of the heavens was an impiety, to find a world was a heresy. This it is which anathematized Pascal in the name of religion, Montaigne in the name of morality, Moliere in the name of both morality and religion. There is not a poet, not an author, not a thinker, not a philosopher, that you accept. All that has been written, found, dreamed, deduced, inspired, imagined, invented by genius, the treasures of civilization, the venerable inheritance of generations, you reject."--Victor Hugo. "There is in every village a lighted torch, the schoolmaster; and a mouth to blow it out, the parson."--Ibid. 604 What admissions are made by Paul regarding his want of candor and honesty? "Being crafty, I caught you with guile" (2 Corinthians xii, 16). "Unto the Jews I became as a Jew, that I might gain the Jews" (1 Corinthians ix, 20). "I am made all things to all men" (22). "For if the truth of God hath more abounded through my lie unto his glory, why yet am I also judged as a sinner?" (Romans iii, 7.) "I robbed other churches, taking wages of them, to do you service" (2 Corinthians xi, 8). 605 What is said of the persecutions of Paul? "And Saul, yet breathing out threatenings and slaughter against the disciples of the Lord, went unto the high priest, and desired of him letters to Damascus to the synagogues, that if he found any of this way, whether they were men or women he might bring them bound unto Jerusalem" (Acts ix, 1, 2). This was Saul the Jew. "But there be some that trouble you, and would pervert the gospel of Christ.... If any man preach any other gospel than that ye have received, let him be accursed" (Galatians i, 7, 9). "I would they were even cut off which trouble you" (v, 12). This was Paul the Christian. The leopard changed his name but did not change his spots. The alleged cause of Paul's sudden conversion and the transference of his hatred from Christianity to Judaism may well be questioned. The story of the apparition will not account for it. A genuine change of belief is not usually effected suddenly. Men sometimes change their religion for gain or revenge. It has been charged that Paul twice changed his, the first time for the hope of gain, the second from a desire for revenge. The Ebionites, one of the earliest of the Christian sects, claimed that Paul was originally a Gentile, that becoming infatuated with the daughter of the high priest he became a convert to Judaism for the purpose of winning her for a wife, but being rejected, he renounced the Jewish faith and became a vehement opponent of the law, the Sabbath, and circumcision (Epiphanius Against Heresies, chapter xxx, sec. 16). 606 What was Christ's final command to his disciples? "Love one another" (John xiii, 34). Christian writers prate about brotherly love, and yet from the very beginning the church of Christ has been filled with dissensions. Christ himself quarreled with his apostles. Paul opposed the teachings of James (Galatians ii, 16-21); James condemned the teachings of Paul (ii, 20). Paul proclaimed himself the divinely appointed apostle to the Gentiles: "The gospel of the uncircumcision was committed unto me" (Galatians ii, 7). Peter contended that the mission had been assigned to him: "And when there had been much disputing, Peter rose up, and said unto them, Men and brethren, ye know how that a good while ago God made choice among us, that the Gentiles by my mouth should hear the word of the gospel" (Acts xv, 7). Paul declared Peter to be a dissembler. "But when Peter was come to Antioch, I withstood him face to face, because he was to be blamed. For before that certain came from James, he did eat with Gentiles; but when they were come, he withdrew and separated himself, fearing them which were of the circumcision. And the other Jews dissembled likewise with him" (Galatians ii, 11-13). John denounced Paul as a liar. "Thou hast tried them which say they are apostles, and are not, and hast found them liars" (Revelation ii, 2). From these seeds of dissension death has reaped a bloody harvest. Dr. Talmage says: "A red line runs through church history for nearly nineteen hundred years--a line of blood; not by hundreds, but by millions we count the slain." Lord Byron says: "I am no Platonist; I am nothing at all. But I would sooner be a Paulician, Manichean, Spinozist, Gentile, Pyrrhonian, Zoroastrian, than one of the seventy-two villainous sects who are tearing each other to pieces for the love of the Lord and hatred of each other." 607 Quote Paul's characterization of Christians. "Not many wise ... not many noble are called" (1 Corinthians i, 26). "Base things of the world, and things which are despised, hath God chosen" (28). "We are made as the filth of the world, and are the offscouring of all things" (iv, 13). "We are fools for Christ's sake" (10). 608 What did Christ say respecting the intellectual character of his converts? "I thank thee, O Father, Lord of heaven and earth, because thou hast hid these things from the wise and prudent, and hast revealed them unto babes" (Matthew xi, 25; Luke x, 21). Commenting on this expression of thanks, Celsus, who lived at the time the Four Gospels made their appearance, says: "This is one of their [the Christians'] rules: Let no man that is learned, wise, or prudent come among us; but if they be unlearned, or a child, or an idiot, let him freely come. So they openly declare that none but the ignorant, and those devoid of understanding, slaves, women, and children, are fit disciples for the God they worship." Concerning the Christian teachers of that age Celsus writes as follows: "You may see weavers, tailors, fullers, and the most illiterate of rustic fellows, who dare not speak a word before wise men, when they can get a company of children and silly women together, set up to teach strange paradoxes among them." 609 Whom did Christ declare to be among the first to enter the Kingdom of Heaven? Harlots and thieves. "The harlots go into the Kingdom of God before you" (Matthew xxi, 31). "Today shalt thou [the thief] be with me in paradise" (Luke xxiii, 43). 610 What promise did he make to his followers? "In my Father's house are many mansions.... I go to prepare a place for you. And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again, and receive you unto myself" (John xiv, 2, 3). "Christians believe themselves to be the aristocracy of heaven upon earth, they are admitted to the spiritual court, while millions of men in foreign lands have never been presented. They bow their knees and say they are 'miserable sinners,' and their hearts rankle with abominable pride. Poor infatuated fools! Their servility is real and their insolence is real but their king is a phantom and their palace is a dream."--Winwood Reade. The Christ is a myth. The Holy Ghost Priestcraft overshadowed the harlot Superstition; this Christ was born; and the Joseph of humanity, beguiled by the Gabriel of credulity, was induced to support the family. But the soldiers of Reason have crucified the illegitimate impostor; he is dead; and the ignorant disciples and hysterical women who still linger about the cross should take his body down and bury it. CHAPTER IX. THE CHRIST A MYTH. The conceptions regarding the nature and character of Christ, and the value of the Christian Scriptures as historical evidence, are many, chief of which are the following: 1. Orthodox Christians believe that Christ is a historical character, supernatural and divine; and that the New Testament narratives, which purport to give a record of his life and teachings, contain nothing but infallible truth. 2. Conservative Rationalists, like Renan, and the Unitarians, believe that Jesus of Nazareth is a historical character and that these narratives, eliminating the supernatural elements, which they regard as myths, give a fairly authentic account of his life. 3. Many radical Freethinkers believe that Christ is a myth, of which Jesus of Nazareth is the basis, but that these narratives are so legendary and contradictory as to be almost, if not wholly, unworthy of credit. 4. Other Freethinkers believe that Jesus Christ is a pure myth--that he never had an existence, except as a Messianic idea, or an imaginary solar deity. The first of these conceptions must be rejected because the existence of such a being is impossible, and because the Bible narratives which support it are incredible. The second cannot be accepted because, outside of these incredible narratives, there is no evidence to confirm it. One of the two last is the only true and rational conception of the Christ. Jesus Christ is a myth. But what do we understand by the term myth? Falsehood, fable, and myth, are usually considered synonymous terms. But a falsehood, a fable, and a myth, while they may all be fictions and equally untrue, are not the same. A falsehood is the expression of an untruth intended to deceive. A fable is an avowed or implied fiction usually intended to instruct or entertain. A myth is a falsehood, a fable, or an erroneous opinion, which eventually becomes an established belief. While a falsehood and a fable are intentional and immediate expressions of fiction, a myth is, in most cases, an unconscious and gradual development of one. Myths are of three kinds: Historical, Philosophical, and Poetical. A Historical myth according to Strauss, and to some extent I follow his language, is a real event colored by the light of antiquity, which confounded the human and divine, the natural and the supernatural. The event may be but slightly colored and the narrative essentially true, or it may be distorted and numberless legends attached until but a small residuum of truth remains and the narrative is essentially false. A large portion of ancient history, including the Biblical narratives, are historical myths. The earliest records of all nations and of all religions are more or less mythical. "Nothing great has been established," says Renan, "which does not rest on a legend. The only culprit in such cases is the humanity which is willing to be deceived." A Philosophical myth is an idea clothed in the dress of historical narrative. When a mere idea is personified and presented in the form of a man or a god it is called a pure myth. Many of the gods and heroes of antiquity are pure myths. John Fiske refers to a myth as "a piece of unscientific philosophizing," and this is a fairly good definition of the philosophical myth. A Poetical myth is a blending of the historical and philosophical, embellished by the creations of the imagination. The poems of Homer and Hesiod, which were the religious text books of the ancient Greeks, and the poetical writings of the Bible, which helped to form and foster the Semitic faiths of Judaism, Christianity, and Mohammedanism, belong to this class. It is often difficult, if not impossible, to distinguish a historical from a philosophical myth. Hence the non-agreement of Freethinkers in regard to the nature of the Christ myth. Is Christ a historical or a philosophical myth? Does an analysis of his alleged history disclose the deification of a man, or merely the personification of an idea? The following hypothesis, written by Mrs. Besant, of England, is, to a considerable extent, an epitome of the views of Strauss, who, in his masterly "Leben Jesu," adopts the historical myth: "The mythic theory accepts an historical groundwork for many of the stories about Jesus, but it does not seek to explain the miraculous by attenuating it into the natural.... It attributes the incredible portions of the history to the Messianic theories current among the Jews. The Messiah would do this and that; Jesus was the Messiah; therefore, Jesus did this and that--such, argue the supporters of the mythical theory, was the method in which the mythus was developed.... Thus, Jesus is descended from David, because the Messiah was to come of David's lineage; his birth is announced by an angelic visitant, because the birth of the Messiah must not be less honored than that of Isaac or of Samson; he is born of a virgin, because God says of the Messiah, 'this day have I begotten thee,' implying the direct paternity of God, and because the prophecy in Is. vii, 14, was applied to the Messiah by the later Jews; born at Bethlehem, because there the Messiah was to be born (Micah v, 2); announced to shepherds, because Moses was visited among the flocks, and David taken from the sheepfolds at Bethlehem; heralded by a star, because a star should arise out of Jacob (Num. xxiv, 17), and 'the Gentiles shall come to thy light' (Is. lx, 3); worshiped by Magi, because the star was seen by Balaam, the magus, and astrologers would be those who would most notice a star; presented with gifts by these Eastern sages, because kings of Arabia and Saba shall offer gifts (Ps. lxxii, 10); saved from the destruction of the infants by a jealous king, because Moses, one of the great types of the Messiah, was so saved; flying into Egypt and thence returning, because Israel, again a type of the Messiah, so fled and returned, and 'out of Egypt have I called my son' (Hos. xi, 1); at twelve years of age found in the temple, because the duties of the law devolved on the Jewish boy at that age, and where should the Messiah then be found save in his Father's temple? recognized at his baptism by a divine voice, to fulfil Is. xlii, 1; hovered over by a dove, because the brooding spirit (Gen. i, 2) was regarded as dove-like, and the spirit was to be especially poured on the Messiah (Is. xlii, 1); tempted by the devil to test him, because God tested his greatest servants, and would surely test the Messiah; fasting forty days in the wilderness, because the types of the Messiah--Moses and Elijah--thus fasted in the desert; healing all manner of disease, because Messiah was to heal (Is. xxxv, 5-6); preaching, because Messiah was to preach (Is. lxi, 1-2); crucified, because the hands and feet of Messiah were to be pierced (Ps. xxii, 16); mocked, because Messiah was to be mocked (Ib. 6-8); his garments divided, because thus it was spoken of Messiah (Ib. 18); silent before his judges, because Messiah was not to open his mouth (Is. liii, 7); buried by the rich, because Messiah was thus to find his grave (Ib. 9); rising again, because Messiah could not be left in hell (Ps. xvi, 10); sitting at God's right hand, because there Messiah was to sit as king (Ps. cx, 1). Thus the form of the Messiah was cast, and all that had to be done was to pour in the human metal; those who alleged that the Messiah had come in the person of Jesus of Nazareth, adapted his story to the story of the Messiah, pouring the history of Jesus into the mould already made for the Messiah, and thus the mythus was transformed into a history." The foregoing theory, with various modifications, is accepted by a majority of Freethinkers at the present time. The hypothesis that Christ is a philosophical myth, based, like the preceding one, upon the Messianic idea, is thus presented by T. B. Wakeman: "Never was there an example of a word becoming a believed person, under this law of materialization, more plainly and evolutionally than the 'Messiah' and 'Son of Man' of the Hebrew prophecies.... The Christ, 'Jesus,' was no man, for the reason that he was prophesied and visionated into this world and life to do a work that it would be utterly absurd to suppose a man could ever do. The Romans had killed, and could easily kill, every man who had tried to resist their oppression. Now the God Yahweh by his 'eternally begotten son,' spiritized as the 'Son of Man,' that is the 'Soul of the State,' as Shakespeare makes Ulysses say it, must, in order to be of any avail appear with supernatural powers. He was the personified people, Israel; he had been crucified alive, in their subjection and massacre even to the death and Hades. But by supernatural power he, the Israel, would rise again and bring the final judgment backed by the infinite power of the nation's Father, Yahweh. It was only a Spirit-God who could do this--nothing less could be originated, or thought of, or provided, for such a superhuman purpose. A person, a man, a reformer, a weak edition of Socrates, or Savonarola or Bruno! How absurd! The human heart in its despair by its imagination, brought a God into the world to do a God's work. 'No man,' said Napoleon; 'nor a God,' says Science, except the idea. Such it was that finally united the millions of Asia, Africa, Europe, and America, in a dream so intoxicating that it dares not to be awakened though the dawn of Science is here." Mr. Wakeman argues that the silence of history for one hundred years after the alleged appearance of Christ can be explained only upon this hypothesis of an ideal Christ. To this the advocate of the historical mythus may, I think, very properly reply: History, for the most part, takes cognizance only of noted men and important events; and while this silence precludes the existence of the supernatural Christ of Christians, and even that of the human Jesus of Renan, it does not necessarily preclude the existence of an obscure religious teacher and an insignificant sect which subsequently, by a chain of fortuitous circumstances, became the mightiest among the religions of the world. Again, this hypothesis presupposes a considerable degree of intellectuality on the part of those who evolved this ideal Christ, while tradition represents the founders of the Christian religion as grossly ignorant. Had this Christ originally sprung from the Hellenistic Jews of intellectual Alexandria instead of from the Jewish dregs of illiterate Galilee, Mr. Wakeman's theory would appeal with surprising force. Still it must be admitted that some of the earliest Christian sects denied the material existence of Christ. Another philosophical hypothesis, the astronomical, which regards Christ as a solar myth, is advanced by Volney. "These mythological traditions recounted that, 'in the beginning, a woman and a man had, by their fall, introduced into the world sin and misery.' "By this was denoted the astronomical fact that the celestial virgin and the herdsman (Bootes), by setting heliacally at the autumnal equinox, delivered the world to the wintry constellations, and seemed, on falling below the horizon, to introduce into the world the genius of evil (Ahrimanes), represented by the constellation of the serpent. "These traditions related that the woman had decoyed and seduced the man. "And, in fact, the virgin setting first seems to draw the herdsman after her. "That the woman tempted him by offering him fruit fair to the sight, and good to eat, which gave the knowledge of good and evil. "And, in fact, the virgin holds in her hand a branch of fruit which she seems to offer to the herdsman; and the branch, emblem of autumn, placed in the picture of Mithra between winter and summer seems to open the door and give knowledge, the key to good and evil. "That this couple had been driven from the celestial garden, and that a cherub with a flaming sword had been placed at the gate to guard it. "And, in fact, when the virgin and the herdsman fall beneath the western horizon, Perseus rises on the other side; and this genius, with a sword in his hand, seems to drive them from the summer heaven, the garden and dominion of fruits and flowers. "That of the virgin should be born, spring up, an offspring, a child, who should bruise the head of the serpent, and deliver the world from sin. "This denotes the sun, which, at the moment of the winter solstice, precisely when the Persian magi drew the horoscope of the new year, was placed on the bosom of the virgin, rising heliacally in the eastern horizon. On this account he was figured in their astrological pictures under the form of a child suckled by a chaste virgin, and became afterward, at the vernal equinox, the ram, or lamb, triumphant over the constellation of the serpent, which disappeared from the skies. "That, in his infancy, the restorer of divine and celestial nature would live abased, humble, obscure and indigent. "And this, because the winter sun is abased below the horizon and that this first period of his four ages or seasons is a time of obscurity, scarcity, fasting and want. "That being put to death by the wicked, he had risen gloriously; that he had reascended from hell to heaven, where he would reign forever. "This is a sketch of the life of the sun, who, finishing his career at the winter solstice, when Typhon and the rebel angels gain the dominion, seems to be put to death by them; but who soon after is born again, and rises into the vault of heaven, where he reigns." Count Volney's portraiture of the second member of the Christian godhead is, for the most part, accurate. Numerous other analogies between him and the ancient sun gods might be named. It is the belief of many, however, that these solar attributes of Christ are later accretions borrowed by the Roman Catholic church from the Pagan religions which it supplanted. While all Freethinkers are agreed that the Christ of the New Testament is a myth they are not, as we have seen, and perhaps never will be, fully agreed as to the nature of this myth. Some believe that he is a historical myth; others that he is a pure myth. Some believe that Jesus, a real person, was the germ of this Christ whom subsequent generations gradually evolved; others contend that the man Jesus, as well as the Christ, is wholly a creation of the human imagination. After carefully weighing the evidence and arguments in support of each hypothesis the writer, while refraining from expressing a dogmatic affirmation regarding either, is compelled to accept the former as the more probable. CHAPTER X. SOURCES OF THE CHRIST MYTH--ANCIENT RELIGIONS. Christ and the religion he is said to have founded are composite products, made up, to a great extent, of the attributes, the doctrines, and the customs of the gods and the religions which preceded them and existed around them. The Christian believes that Christ is coexistent with his father, Jehovah--that he has existed from the foundations of the world. This is in a measure true. The years that have elapsed since his alleged incarnation are few compared with the years of his gestation in the intellectual womb of humanity. To understand the origin and nature of Christ and Christianity it is necessary to know something of the religious systems and doctrines from which they were evolved. The following, some in a large and others in but a small degree, contributed to mold this supposed divine incarnation and inspire this supposed revelation: 1. Nature or Sex Worship. 2. Solar Worship. 3. Astral Worship. 4. Worship of the Elements and Forces of Nature. 5. Worship of Animals and Plants. 6. Fetichism. 7. Polytheism. 8. Monotheism. 9. The Mediatorial Idea. 10. The Messianic Idea. 11. The Logos. 12. The Perfect Man. 1. Nature or Sex Worship. The deification and worship of the procreative organs and the generative principles of life is one of the oldest and one of the most universal of religions. It has been called the foundation of all religions. In some nations the worship of the male energy, Phallic worship, predominated; in others the worship of the female energy, Yoni worship, prevailed. But in all both elements were recognized. Mrs. Besant says: "Womanhood has been worshiped in all ages of the world, and maternity has been deified by all creeds: from the savage who bowed before the female symbol of motherhood, to the philosophic Comtist who adores woman 'in the past, the present, and the future,' as mother, wife, and daughter, the worship of the female element in nature has run side by side with that of the male; the worship is one and the same in all religions, and runs in an unbroken thread from the barbarous ages to the present time." Among the life generating gods may be named Vishnu, Osiris, Zeus, Priapus, Adonis, Bacchus, Saturn, Apollo, Baal, Moloch, and Jehovah. Among the receptive life producing goddesses were Isis, Rhea, Ceres, Venus, Istar, Astarte, Aschera, Devaki, Eve, and Mary. Where the worship of the female element largely prevailed the Virgin and Child was a favorite deity. Isis and Horus, Rhea and Quirinus, Leto and Apollo, Devaki and Krishna, Mary and Christ, all had their inception in the sex worship of primitive man. The symbol of Phallic worship, the cross, has become the emblem of Christianity. I quote again from our English authoress: "We find the cross in India, Egypt, Thibet, Japan, always as the sign of life-giving power; it was worn as an amulet by girls and women, and seems to have been specially worn by the women attached to the temples [sacred prostitutes], as a symbol of what was, to them, a religious calling. The cross is, in fact, nothing but the refined phallus, and in the Christian religion is a significant emblem of its Pagan origin; it was adored, carved in temples, and worn as a sacred emblem by sun and nature worshipers, long before there were any Christians to adore, carve, and wear it. The crowd kneeling before the cross in Roman Catholic and in High Anglican churches is a simple reproduction of the crowd who knelt before it in the temples of ancient days, and the girls who wear it amongst ourselves are--in the most innocent unconsciousness of its real significance--exactly copying the Indian and Egyptian women of an elder time." The "American Cyclopedia" says: "The crux ansata, so common on Egyptian monuments, symbolizes the union of the active and passive principles of nature. In the Etruscan tombs have been found crosses of four phalli." Regarding this subject, McClintock and Strong's "Cyclopedia of Biblical, Theological and Ecclesiastical Literature," a standard orthodox Christian authority, says: "The sign of the cross is found as a holy symbol among several ancient nations.... Sometimes it is the phallus" (Art. Cross). The same authority says that the Tau or sign of life (one form of the Phallic cross) "was adopted by some of the early Christians in lieu of the cross.... Christian inscriptions at the great oasis are headed by this symbol; it has been found on Christian monuments at Rome" (Art. Egypt). Dr. Thomas Inman, of England, one of the foremost authorities on ancient symbolism, says: "It has been reserved for Christian art to crowd our churches with the emblems of Bel and Astarte, Baalim and Ashtoreth, linga and yoni, and to elevate the phallus to the position of the supreme deity" (Ancient Pagan and Modern Christian Symbolism, p. 16). Describing the chasuble, worn by Christian priests, Dr. Inman says: "Its form is that of the vesica piscis, one of the most common emblems of the yoni. It is adorned by the Triad. When worn by the priest, he forms the male element, and with the chasuble completes the sacred four. When worshiping the ancient goddesses, whom Mary has displaced, the officiating ministers clothed themselves in feminine attire. Hence the use of the chemise, etc. Even the tonsured head, adopted from the priests of the Egyptian Isis, represents 'l'anneau'; so that on head, shoulders, breast and body, we may see on Christian priests the relics of the worship of Venus, and the adoration of woman! How horrible all this would sound if, instead of using veiled language, we had employed vulgar words. The idea of a man adorning himself, when ministering before God and the people, with the effigies of those parts which nature as well as civilization teaches us to conceal, would be simply disgusting, but when all is said to be mysterious and connected with hidden signification, almost everybody tolerates and many eulogize or admire it!" (Ibid, p. 104). Westropp and Wake, in their "Ancient Symbol Worship," state that Judaism and Christianity have been largely derived from Phallic worship. Westropp says: "Circumcision was in its inception a purely Phallic ordinance." Our Christian marriage ceremonies, he says, are relics of this worship. Wake says: "In the recognition of God as the universal father, the great Parent of mankind, there is a development of the fundamental idea of Phallism. In the position assigned to Mary as the mother of God the paramount principle of the primitive belief is again predominant. The nimbus, the aureole, the cross, the fish, and even the spires of churches, are symbols retained from the old Phallic worship." Dr. Alexander Wilder says: "There is not a fast or festival, procession or sacrament, social custom or religious symbol, existing at the present day which has not been taken bodily from Phallism, or from some successive system of Paganism." Aschera, the voluptuous goddess of fertility, was a Hebrew goddess and was worshiped, along with Jehovah, in the temple itself at Jerusalem. Jules Soury, of France, in his "Religion of Israel" (p. 68), says: "Under the kings of Judah and Israel, the symbol of Aschera [the phallus] became an object of general piety which was found in every house. Thus in the provinces of France, we still find gigantic crosses on the high roads, on the crossways of the woods which serve as resting places at the Fete Dieu, while, under the porches of churches, vendors of religious toys still sell little Christs in wood or metal for a few half-pence. The rich women of Israel, the bourgeoises of Jerusalem, wore the symbols of Aschera in gold and silver, a sort of medals of the Virgin of the time, which were at once jewels and objects of devotion." Dulaure, another French author, tells us that the worship of Priapus, the god of procreation, under the name of St. Fontin, with rites of the most indelicate character, prevailed in the Catholic church in several provinces of France and Italy up to the middle of the eighteenth century, or later. The sex worship of the Semitic tribes of Western Asia had its origin, it is believed, in India, where, under the name of Sakti worship, it prevails today, three-fourth of the Hindoos, it is claimed, belonging to this sect. The worship is thus described by the "Encyclopedia Britannica's" chief authority on the subject, Prof. H. H. Wilson: "The ceremonies are mostly gone through in a mixed society, the Sakti being personified by a naked female, to whom meat and wine are offered and then distributed amongst the company. These eat and drink alternately with gesticulations and mantras--and when the religious part of the business is over, the males and females rush together and indulge in a wild orgy." The foregoing is almost an exact description of the Agapae, or Love Feasts, as they were observed for a time in the early Christian church. Associated with the worship of Aschera and other goddesses of this character was what is known as sacred prostitution. Thousands of women, the fairest and best bred of their race, and also men (sodomites), prostituted themselves for the support of their religion. John Clark Ridpath, in his "History of the World," dwells upon this institution. It was practiced for centuries among the Hebrews, constituting a part of the temple worship, the Jewish kings, with the exception of a few, like Hezekiah and Josiah, sanctioning it. Solomon's temple was largely a Pagan temple. Before it stood two Phallic pillars, while its doors were ornamented with symbols of Phallic and Solar worship. Solomon worshiped, in addition to other Pagan deities, Astarte (Ashtoreth), the Sidonian Aschera (1 Kings xi, 5, 7). The pietistic writers of the Bible condemn it, but in spite of a few spasmodic efforts to suppress the worship, it continued to flourish until long after the Captivity. From Soury's account of the sanctified prostitution of Israel I quote the following: "The tents of the sacred prostitutes were generally erected on the 'high places,' where sacrifices were offered, beside the tablet of Baal or Iahveh [Jehovah] and the symbol of Aschera (Isaiah lvii, 7, et seq.; Ezekiel xxiii, 14; Hosea iv, 17). These tents were woven and ornamented with figures by the priestesses of Aschera. Robed in splendid garments, their tresses dripping with perfumes, their cheeks painted with vermilion, their eyes black-circled with antimony, their eyelashes lengthened with a compound of gums, musk and ebony, the priestesses awaited the worshipers of the goddess within these tents (Numbers xxv, 8) on spacious beds (Isaiah lvii, 8); they fixed their own price and conditions, and poured the money into the treasury of the temple" (Religion of Israel, p. 71). After describing the temple of Zarpanit, which was furnished with cells for the use of the Babylonian women, Dr. Soury says: "Cells of the same kind, serving the same purpose, existed at Jerusalem in the very temple of Jehovah, wherein Aschera had her symbol and was adored" (Ibid 72). "Prostitutes," says this writer, "were of both sexes. The men were called kedeschim, the women kedeschoth--that is 'holy, vowed, consecrated.' Deuteronomy bears witness that both the one and the other brought the hire of their prostitution into the treasury of the temple of Jehovah. This paid in part the expenses of worship at Jerusalem" (Ib. 73). "If then, in Hebrew law and practice," says Dr. Inman, "we find such a strong infusion of the sexual element, we cannot be surprised if it should be found elsewhere, and gradually influence Christianity" (Ancient Symbolism). "The worship of God the Father has repeatedly clashed with that of God the Mother, and the votaries of each respectively have worn badges characteristic of the sex of their deity.... Our sexual sections are as well marked as those in ancient Jerusalem, which swore by Jehovah and Ashtoreth respectively" (Ibid). It is well known that religious prostitution has been practiced in some form by Christ's devotees from the earliest ages of the church down to the present time. Writing of the middle ages, Lecky, the historian of European morals, says: "We may not lay much stress on such isolated instances of depravity as that of Pope John XXIII., who was condemned, among many other crimes, for incest and adultery; or the abbot-elect of St. Augustine, at Canterbury, who in 1171 was found, on investigation, to have seventeen illegitimate children in a single village; or an abbot of St. Pelayo, in Spain, who in 1130 was proved to have kept no less than seventy concubines; or Henry III., Bishop of Liege, who was deposed in 1274 for having sixty-five illegitimate children; but it is impossible to resist the evidence of a long chain of Councils and ecclesiastical writers, who conspire in depicting far greater evils than simple concubinage.... The writers of the middle ages are full of accounts of nunneries that were like brothels, of the vast multitude of infanticides within their walls, and of that inveterate prevalence of incest among the clergy, which rendered it necessary again and again to issue the most stringent enactments that priests should not be permitted to live with their mothers or sisters" (History of European Morals, Vol. II, P. 331). For centuries the worship of the Virgin Mary, the Christian goddess of reproduction and motherhood, was supreme; the worship of God and Christ being subordinated to it. During these centuries, Hallam tells us, chastity was almost unknown. In every land, every class ignored the seventh commandment, because it was taught and believed that all offenses of this character were condoned by the Virgin. Hallam cites numerous instances of her alleged interventions in behalf of those who indulged in illegitimate practices. The following is one: "In one tale the Virgin takes the shape of a nun, who had eloped from the convent, and performs her duties ten years, till, tired of a libertine life, she returns unsuspected. This was in consideration of her having never omitted to say an Ave as she passed the Virgin's image" (Middle Ages, p. 604). Christian chivalry, so much lauded in our day, was simply a form of sex worship. Hallam characterizes it as unbridled libertinism. The writings of that age, like those of Boccaccio, he says, indicate "a general dissoluteness in the intercourse of the sexes.... The violation of marriage vows passes in them for an incontestable privilege of the brave and the fair" (Ibid, p. 666). Holy pilgrimages to the shrines of saints were usually pilgrimages to the shrine of Venus. "Some of the modes of atonement which the church most approved, were particularly hostile to public morals. None was so usual as pilgrimage; whether to Jerusalem or Rome, which were the great objects of devotion, or to the shrine of some national saint, a James of Compostella, a David, or a Thomas Becket. This licensed vagrancy was naturally productive of dissoluteness, especially among the women. Our English ladies, in their zeal to obtain the spiritual treasures of Rome, are said to have relaxed the necessary caution about one that was in their own custody" (Ib., p. 607). The prelates of the church, being equally culpable, winked at the licentiousness of the lower orders of the clergy. "In every country," says Hallam, "the secular and parochial clergy kept women in their houses, upon more or less acknowledged terms of intercourse, by a connivance of their ecclesiastical superiors" (Ib., p. 353). "A writer of respectable authority asserts that the clergy frequently obtained a bishop's license to cohabit with a mate" (Ib., p. 354). Another form of "sanctified" sexual indulgence, and which received the sanction of the church, was what is known as Marquette. Concerning this custom Mrs. Matilda Joslyn Gage, in her "Woman, Church and State," says: "The law known as Marchetta, or Marquette, compelled newly-married women to a most dishonorable servitude. They were regarded as the rightful prey of the Feudal Lord from one to three days after their marriage, and from this custom the eldest son of the serf was held as the son of the Lord.... Marquette was claimed by the Lord's Spiritual, as well as by the Lord's Temporal. The Church, indeed, was the bulwark of this base feudal claim." This is affirmed by the French historian, Michelet. He says: "The lords spiritual (clergy) had this right no less than the lords temporal. The parson, being a lord, expressly claimed the first fruits of the bride" (La Sorcerie, p. 62). The brazen lewdness of medieval Christianity has been driven into privacy. But it still exists, and it is still religious. The Italian patriot, Garibaldi, bears this testimony: "In Rome, in 1849, I myself visited every convent. I was present at all the investigations. Without a single exception we found instruments of torture, and a cellar with the bodies of infant children." Referring to the priests connected with certain convents, Dr. Inman says: "Their practice was to instruct their victims that whatever was said or done must be accompanied by a pious sentence. Thus, 'I love you dearly' was a profane expression; but 'I desire your company in the name of Jesus,' and 'I embrace in you the Holy Virgin,' was orthodox." Protestant readers, generally, will accept this testimony as true of Catholic countries. But have Protestant countries a purer record? Lecky, classed as a Protestant historian, says: "The two countries which are most thoroughly pervaded by Protestant theology are probably Scotland and Sweden; and if we measure their morality by the common though somewhat defective test that is furnished by the number of illegitimate births, the first is well known to be considerably below the average morality of European nations, while the second, in this as in general criminality, has been pronounced by a very able and impartial Protestant witness, who has had the fullest means of judging, to be very far below every other Christian nation" (European Morals, Vol. I, p. 391). The religion of Christ as it exists today is not only in its external forms, but in its very essence, largely a survival of the nature worship of old. That it is closely allied to it is admitted by Christian ministers themselves. The Rev. Frederick Robertson says: "The devotional feelings are often singularly allied to the animal nature. They conduct the unconscious victim of feelings that appear divine, into a state of life at which the world stands aghast; fanaticism is always united with either excessive lewdness or desperate asceticism" (Essays). The Rev. S. Baring-Gould, in "Freaks of Fanaticism," says: "The religious passion verges so closely on the sexual passion that a slight additional pressure given to it bursts the partition, and both are confused in a frenzy of religious debauch." The Rev. J. H. Noyes says: "Religious love is a very near neighbor to sex love, and they always get mixed in the intimacies and social excitement of [religious] revivals." 2. Solar Worship. Scarcely less prevalent than sex worship was the worship of the sun. While sex worship was confined chiefly to the generation of human life, sun worship comprehended the generation of all life. The sun was recognized as the generative power of the universe. He overshadows the receptive earth from whom all life is born. I quote from M. Soury: "Amid all these forces, the mightiest is, without contradiction, the sun, the fire of heaven, father of earthly fire, unique and supreme cause of motion and life on our planet. There is no need or reason to understand that the very life, and as it were the blood of our celestial father flows in the veins of the Earth, our mother. In the time of love, when the luminous heaven embraces her, from her fertilized womb springs forth a world. It is she who quivers on the plains where the soft moist air waves gently on the grasses; it is she who climbs in the bush, who soars in the oak, who fills the solitude with the joyous twitter of birds beneath the cloudlet, or from the leaf-lined nests; it is she who in seas and in running waters, or mountains and in woods, couples the gorgeous male with the ardent female, throbs in every bosom, loves in every life. But all this terrestrial life, all this warmth and all this light are but effluents from the sun." (Religion of Israel, pp. 3, 4.) Prof. Tyndall says: "We are no longer in a poetical but in a purely mechanical sense, the children of the sun." "The sun," said Napoleon Bonaparte, "gives all things life and fertility. It is the true God of the earth." John Newton, M.R.C.S., of England, says: "The glorious sun, that 'god of this world,' the source of life and light to our earth, was early adored, and an effigy thereof used as a symbol. Mankind watched with rapture its rays gain strength daily in the Spring, until the golden glories of Midsummer had arrived, when the earth was bathed during the longest days in his beams, which ripened the fruits that his returning course had started into life. When the sun once more began its course downwards to the winter solstice, his votaries sorrowed, for he seemed to sicken and grow paler at the advent of December, when his rays scarcely reached the earth, and all nature, benumbed and cold, sunk into a death-like sleep. Hence feasts and fasts were instituted to mark the commencement of the various phases of the solar year, which have continued from the earliest known period, under various names, to our own times" (The Assyrian Grove). The most prominent deities in the pantheons of the gods were solar deities. Among these were Osiris, Vishnu, Mithra, Apollo, Hercules, Adonis, Bacchus, and Baal. In the worship of some of these gods sex and solar worship were united. The early Israelites were mostly sun worshipers. And even in later times, the sun god, Baal, divided with Jehovah the worship of the Jews. Saul, Jonathan, and David named their children in honor of this god. "Saul begat Jonathan, ... and Esh-baal. And the son of Jonathan was Merib-baal" (1 Chron. viii, 33, 34). David named his last son, save one, Beeliada, "Baal Knows," (1 Chron. xiv, 7). Solomon's worship included not merely the worship of Jehovah, but that of Baal and other gods. His temple was filled with Pagan ornaments and emblems pertaining to solar worship. Regarding this the Rev. Dr. Oort of Holland says: "Solomon's temple had much in common with heathen edifices, and slight modifications might have made it a suitable temple for Baal. This need not surprise us, for the ancient religion of the Israelitish tribes was itself a form of Nature-worship just as much as the religions of the Canaanites, Phenicians, Philistines, and other surrounding peoples were. Most of the Israelites certainly saw no harm in these ornaments, since they were not aware of any very great difference between the character of Yahweh [Jehovah] and that of Baal, Astarte, or Moloch" (Bible for Learners, vol. ii, p. 88). Long after the time of Solomon the horses and chariots of the Sun were kept in the temple (2 Kings xxiii, 11). Many of the stories concerning Moses, Joshua, Jonah, and other Bible characters are solar myths. Samson was a sun god. Dr. Oort says: "Sun-worship was by no means unknown to the Israelites.... The myths that were circulated among these people show that they were zealous worshipers of the sun. These myths are still preserved, but, as in all other cases, they are so much altered as to be hardly recognizable. The writer who has preserved them for us lived at a time when the worship of the sun had long ago died out. He transforms the sun god into an Israelite hero [Samson]" (Ibid i, p. 414). St. Augustine believed that Samson and the sun god Hercules were one. Charles Francois Dupuis, in his "Origin of Worship," one of the most elaborate and remarkable works on mythology ever penned, shows that nearly all the religions of the world, including Christianity, were derived largely from solar worship. All the solar deities, he says, have a common history. This history, summarized, is substantially as follows: "The god is born about December 25th, without sexual intercourse, for the sun, entering the winter solstice, emerges in the sign of Virgo, the heavenly Virgin. His mother remains ever-virgin, since the rays of the sun, passing through the zodiacal sign, leave it intact. His infancy is begirt with dangers, because the new-born Sun is feeble in the midst of the winter's fogs and mists, which threaten to devour him; his life is one of toil and peril, culminating at the spring equinox in a final struggle with the powers of darkness. At that period the day and night are equal, and both fight for the mastery. Though the night veil the Sun and he seems dead; though he has descended out of sight, below the earth, yet he rises again triumphant, and he rises in the sign of the Lamb, and is thus the Lamb of God, carrying away the darkness and death of the winter months. Henceforth he triumphs, growing ever stronger and more brilliant. He ascends into the zenith, and there he glows, on the right hand of God, himself God, the very substance of the Father, the brightness of his glory, and the express image of his person, upholding all things by his life-giving power." Dr. G. W. Brown, author of "Researches in Oriental History," says: "Strange as it may seem, whilst Mithras and Osiris, Dionysos and Bacchus, Apollo and Serapis, with many others [including Christ] in name, all masculine sun gods, and all interblended, a knowledge of one is generally a knowledge of the whole, wherever located or worshiped." If Christ was not originally a solar god he wears today the livery of one. His mother, the Virgin, was the mother of the solar gods; his birthday, Christmas, is the birthday of all the gods of the sun; his Twelve Apostles correspond to the twelve signs of the Zodiac; according to the Gospels, at his crucifixion the sun was eclipsed, he expired toward sunset, and rose again with the sun; the day appointed for his worship, the Lord's day, is the die solis, Sunday, of the sun worshipers; while the principal feasts observed in memory of him were once observed in honor of their gods. "Every detail of the Sun myth," says the noted astronomer, Richard A. Proctor, "is worked into the record of the Galilean teacher." The cross we have seen was a symbol of Phallic worship. The cross, and especially the crucifix, was also an emblem of solar worship. It was carved or painted on, or within, a circle representing the horizon, the head and feet and the outstretched arms of the sacrificial offering or crucified Redeemer pointing toward the four quarters of the horizon. The Lord's Supper, observed in memory of Christ, was observed in memory of Mithra, Bacchus, and other solar gods. The nimbus, or aureola, surrounding the head of Jesus in his portraits represents the rays of the sun. It was thus that the ancient adorers of the sun adorned the effigies of their god. There still exists a pillar erected by the sun worshipers of Carthage. On this pillar is carved the sun god, Baal, with a nimbus encircling his head. The Christian doctrine of the resurrection had its origin in sun worship. As the sun, the Father, rose from the dead, so it was believed that his earthly children would also rise from the dead. "The daily disappearance and the subsequent rise of the sun," says Newton, "appeared to many of the ancients as a true resurrection; thus, while the east came to be regarded as the source of light and warmth, happiness and glory, the west was associated with darkness and chill, decay and death. This led to the custom of burying the dead so as to face the east when they rose again, and of building temples and shrines with an opening toward the east. To effect this, Vitruvius, two thousand years ago, gave precise rules, which are still followed by Christian architects." Max Mueller, in his "Origin of Religion," (pp. 200, 201), says: "People wonder why so much of the old mythology, the daily talk, of the Aryans was solar: what else could it have been? The names of the sun are endless and so are his stories; but who he was, whence he came and whither he went, remained a mystery from beginning to end.... Man looked up to the sun, yearning for the response of a soul, and though that response never came, though his senses recoiled, dazzled and blinded by an effulgence which he could not support, yet he never doubted that the invisible was there, and that, where his senses failed him, where he could neither grasp nor comprehend, he might still shut his eyes and trust, fall down and worship." This worship of old survives in the worship of today. A knowledge of the location, the limits and the nature of the sun has gradually convinced the world that this is not God's dwelling place; but somewhere in the infinite expanse of the blue beyond they fancy he has his throne. To this imaginary being is rendered the same adoration that was rendered to him by primitive man--the adoration of childish ignorance. 3. Astral Worship. The worship of the planets and stars was probably a later development than sex and solar worship. It flourished for a time in nearly every part of the world, and left its impress on the religions that succeeded it. In Chaldea, one of the principal sources of Judaism and Christianity, the worship of the stars prevailed. I quote from Dr. Ridpath: "In their aspirations for communion with the higher powers, the yearning of the ancient Chaldeans turned upwards to the planets and the stars. The horizon of the Babylonian plain was uniform and boundless. It was the heaven above rather than the earth beneath, which exhibited variety and life. The Zodiac was ever new with its brilliant evolutions. Through the clear atmosphere the tracks of the shining orbs could be traced in every phase and transposition. With each dawn of morning light, with each recurrence of the evening twilight, a new panorama spread before the reverent imagination of the dreamer, and he saw in the moving spheres not only the abode but the manifested glory of his gods" (History of the World, vol. 1, p. 138). "Until today, in the high light of civilization, the idea of some kind of domination of the stars over the affairs of human life has hardly released its hold on the minds of men; and the language of the old Chaldean ritual of signs has still a familiar sound in the ears of the credulous" (Ibid, p. 140). After alluding to the ancient Vedic religion, which recognized in the stars the souls of our departed ancestors, Prof. John Fiske says: "The Christianized German peasant, fifty centuries later, tells his children that the stars are angels' eyes, and the English cottager impresses it on the youthful mind that it is wicked to point to the stars, though why he cannot tell" (Myths and Myth Makers, p. 76). In the Zodiac the Sun had twelve palaces. Each palace had a star for a god, and each was subject to the Sun. Each day of the week was governed by a planet, and each hour of the day had its controlling star. Many scholars, including Jefferson, have held that Christ and his Twelve Apostles relate to the Zodiac and were derived from this stellar worship. The seven days of the week are still dedicated to the old planetary gods, and, with a few modifications, bear their names. "Chambers' Encyclopedia" says: "The Jews, as well as the early Christians, had no special names for the single days, but counted their number from the previous Sabbath, beginning with Sunday, as the first after the Sabbath, and ending with Friday, as the sixth after the previous, or eve (Ereb) of the next Sabbath. After a very short time, however, young Christianity, which in the same manner had endeavored to count from the feria secunda, or second day after Sunday, to the Septima (or Saturday), had to fall back again upon the old heathen names" (Art. Week). The planetary gods Nardouk (Jupiter), Adar (Saturn), Istar (Venus), Nergal (Mars), and Nebo (Mercury), were all worshiped by the ancient Israelites. Istar was called "Queen of the Stars." Moloch, the rival of Jehovah, who shared for centuries the worship of the Hebrews, had his blazing star, the emblem of his implacable cruelty. The worship of Astarte, daughter of the moon, and "Queen of Heaven," whose emblem was a star, was introduced by Solomon himself (1 Kings xi, 5; 2 Kings xxiii, 13). For more than three hundred years she had her temple in Jerusalem. And even today devout Jews address orizons to the new moon, a relic of the worship of Astarte. The rosary is a survival of astral worship. It was once a symbol of the stars. The author of "Supernatural Religion" says: "The belief that sun, moon and stars were living entities possessed of souls was generally held by the Jews at the beginning of our era." The same belief was entertained by the Christian Fathers. Origen says: "As the stars move with so much order and method that under no circumstances whatever do their course seem to be disturbed, is it not the extreme of absurdity to suppose that so much order, so much observance of discipline and method could be demanded from or fulfilled by irrational beings?" Out of astral worship grew the so-called science of astrology. Of this "Chambers's Encyclopedia" says: "Astrology is one of the most ancient forms of superstition, and is found prevailing among the nations of the East at the very dawn of history. The Jews became much addicted to it after the Captivity." One of the so-called Messianic prophecies of the Old Testament reads: "There shall come a star out of Jacob" (Num. xxiv, 17). "Now when Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judea in the days of Herod the King, behold, there came wise men from the east to Jerusalem, saying, Where is he that is born king of the Jews? For we have seen his star in the east, ... and, lo, the star, which they saw in the east, went before them, till it came and stood over where the young child was" (Matt. ii, 1, 2, 9). This marvelous event at the advent of the Christian Messiah was a complete "fulfillment" of what had been predicted centuries before concerning the appearance of the expected Persian Messiah, the original of the expected Messiah of the Jews. Graves says that the language of Matthew clearly betrays the astrological origin of his story: "The practice of calculating nativities by the stars was in vogue in the era and country of Christ's birth, and had been for a long time previously in various countries. 'We have seen his star in the east, and have come to worship him.' Now mark, here, it was not the star, nor a star, but 'his star'; thus disclosing its unmistakable astrological features" (Sixteen Crucified Saviors, p. 53). After referring to the prevalency of astrology at the beginning of, and anterior to, the Christian era, Strauss says: "When such ideas were afloat, it was easy to imagine that the birth of the Messiah must be announced by a star, especially as, according to the common interpretation of Balaam's prophecy, a star was there made the symbol of the Messiah. It is certain that the Jewish mind effected this combination; for it is a rabbinical idea that at the time of the Messiah's birth a star will appear in the east and remain for a long time visible.... In the time of Jesus it was the general belief that stars were always the forerunners of great events." Jesus in the Apocalypse declares himself to be "the bright and morning star" (xxii, 16). He "had in his right hand seven stars" (i, 16). "The seven stars are the angels of the seven churches" (20). His second coming will be heralded by "signs in the sun, and in the moon, and in the stars" (Luke xxi, 25). The star of the Magi which pointed so unerringly to the cradle of Christ points not less unerringly to one of the sources from which Christ came. 4. Worship of the Elements and Forces of Nature. The elements and forces of nature, Volney believes, inspired the first ideas of God and religion: "Man, reflecting on his condition, began to perceive that he was subjected to forces superior to his own, and independent of his will. The sun enlightened and warmed him, fire burned him, thunder terrified him; the wind beat upon him, and water drowned him." "Considering the action of the elements on him, he conceived the idea of weakness and subjection on his part, and of power and domination on theirs; and this idea of power was the primitive and fundamental type of every idea of the Divinity." "The action of these natural existences excited in him sensations of pleasure and pain, of good or evil; and by a natural effect of his organization he conceived for them love or aversion; he desired or dreaded their presence; and fear or hope gave rise to the first idea of religion." From this elemental worship Indra, Agni, Zeus, Odin, Jehovah and other gods were evolved. Jehovah was originally a god of the atmosphere. He manifested himself in the tempest; he unchained the waves of the sea; the wind was his breath; the thunder was his voice, the lightning his messenger. He filled the air with frost; he precipitated the hail; he blanketed the earth with snow; he deluged the land with rain; he congealed the water of the stream, and parched the verdure of the field. Fire worship overspread Asia, and Jehovah, like Moloch, became a god of fire. "There went up a smoke out of his nostrils, and fire out of his mouth devoured; coals were kindled by it" (2 Sam. xxii, 9). He appeared to Abram as "a smoking furnace and a burning lamp" (Gen. xv, 17). He revealed himself to Moses in the burning bush. "The bush burned with fire, but the bush was not consumed" (Ex. iii, 2). When David called to him "he answered him from heaven by fire" (1 Ch. xxi, 26). To the fleeing Israelites he was a "pillar of fire" (Ex. xiv, 24). "The Lord descended upon" Sinai "in fire" (xix, 18). When he appeared upon Horeb "the mountain burned with fire unto the midst of heaven" (Deut. iv, 11), "and the Lord spake out of the midst of the fire" (12). "The cloud of the Lord was upon the tabernacle by day, and fire was on it by night" (Ex. xl, 38). On the Jewish altar for centuries the sacred fire was kept burning. When Aaron, Gideon, Solomon and Elijah made offerings to Jehovah "there came a fire out from before the Lord, and consumed" the offerings (Lev. ix, 24; Jud. vi, 21; 2 Ch. vii, 1; 1 K. xviii, 38). Elijah was translated in "a chariot of fire" (2 K. ii, 11). Elisha was surrounded by "horses and chariots of fire" (vi, 17). With fire he consumed his enemies. "The Lord rained upon Sodom and Gomorrah brimstone and fire" (Gen. xix, 24). When Nadab and Abihu "offered strange fire before the Lord" (Lev. x, 1), "there went out fire from before the Lord and devoured them" (2). When the Israelites displeased him at Taberah, "the fire of the Lord burnt among them and consumed them" (Num. xi, 1). When the hosts of Satan encompassed the Christian saints, "fire came down from God out of heaven and devoured them" (Rev. xx, 9). "It is now a matter of demonstration," says M. Soury, "that at the time of the Exodus from Egypt, in the desert, and even in the time of Judges, light and fire were not to the Israelites mere symbols of the deity, but were the deity himself." Christ inherited the fiery nature of his Father. He baptized his disciples with fire. "He shall baptize you with the Holy Ghost, and with fire" (Matt. iii, 11). "And there appeared unto them cloven tongues like as of fire, and it sat upon each of them" (Acts ii, 3). He consigned his enemies to everlasting punishment in the unquenchable fires of hell. "The Son of man shall send forth his angels, and they shall gather out of his kingdom all things that offend, and them which do iniquity; and shall cast them into a furnace of fire" (Matt. xiii, 41, 42). "Depart from me, ye cursed, into everlasting fire" (xxv, 41). "To be cast into hell fire: where their worm dieth not, and the fire is not quenched. For every one shall be salted with fire" (Mark ix, 47-49). His disciples were imbued with the same spirit and belief. "And they (the Samaritans) did not receive him.... And when his disciples James and John saw this, they said, Lord, wilt thou that we command fire to come down from heaven and consume them?" (Luke ix, 53, 54.) Some vestiges of ancient fire worship have been transmitted to our time. John Newton says: "A sacred fire, at first miraculously kindled, and subsequently kept up by the sedulous care of priests and priestesses, formed an important part of the religion of Judea, Babylonia, Persia. Greece and Rome, and the superstition lingers amongst us still. So late as the advent of the Reformation, a sacred fire was kept ever burning on a shrine at Kildare, in Ireland, and attended by virgins of high rank, called 'inghean au dagha,' or daughters of fire. Every year is the ceremony repeated at Jerusalem of the miraculous kindling of the Holy Fire at the reputed sepulchre, and men and women crowd to light tapers at the sacred flame" (The Assyrian Grove). 5. Worship of Animals and Plants. In the infancy of the world animals were deified and adored, and trees and plants were regarded as sentient beings and received the homage of man. Nearly every animal has been an object of worship. This worship flourished for ages in Egypt and India. In Egypt the worship of the bull (Apis) was associated with that of Osiris (Serapis). The cow is still worshiped in India. Serpent worship has existed in every part of the world. Remnants of animal worship survived in Judaism and Christianity. Satan was a serpent; Jehovah, like Osiris, was worshiped as a bull; Christ was the lamb of God, and the Holy Ghost appeared in the form of a dove. Closely allied to this worship, and to some extent a part of it, is the doctrine of the transmigration of souls. Some of the Jews believed in this. So did many of the early Christians, including Origen. The leek, the lotus, and other plants were held as sacred or divine. The rose was the divine flower of Greece. Its petals had been dyed with the blood of her favorite goddess. In many nations the lily was the sacred emblem of virginity. Christians still attach a sort of sacredness to it. "The groves were God's first temples," says Bryant. The groves, too, were among man's first gods. Volumes have been written on the ancient worship of trees. Not only the Druids of Britain, but the Greeks, and the Semitic races of Asia were worshipers of trees. The giant oaks and the symmetrical evergreens were gods. The rustling of the aspen and the moaning of the pines were the audible whisperings of Divinity which the prophets interpreted. "The worship of trees," says Soury, "only disappeared in Syria at a very late date.... The largest and tallest trees, and the evergreen ones, were adored as gods. A great many Semitic myths were connected with the vegetable world. Thus the pomegranate, famous for the richness of its fruit, was sacred to Adonis and Aphrodite. The almond, which, while nature seems inanimate, comes forth first from winter's sleep, the amygdalis, the 'great mother,' gave birth to a crowd of Semitic legends" (Religion of Israel, pp. 66, 67). The tree, like the serpent, was an emblem of immortality. The Garden of Eden had its Tree of Life. Newton says: "'I am come that they might have Life, and that they might have it abundantly' (John x, 10). Life is the reward which has been promised under every system, including that of the founder of Christianity. A Tree of Life stood in the midst of that Paradise which is described in the book of Genesis; ... and in a second Paradise, which is promised to the blessed by the author of the book of Revelation, a tree of life shall stand once more 'for the healing of the nations.'" There still exist in Palestine venerable trees which receive not merely the reverence, but the worship of Mussulmans and Christians. Some of these trees they believe possess divine curative powers. Travelers have observed them covered with strips of cloth or strings, which are tied to the twigs. This is done to induce the spirit of the tree to heal or drive away disease. Sex worship, as we have seen, bequeathed some of its doctrines and rites to nearly every religion that has existed since its time. It became associated with tree worship. The Bible abounds with "sacred groves." In Palestine hundreds of them were consecrated to Aschera, the favorite goddess of the ancient Jews. These groves were devoted to sacred prostitution. In some of them the worship of Baal and Aschera were combined; in others that of Jehovah and Aschera. "These sanctuaries of Aschera," says M. Soury, "were charming spots, shady groves of green trees, often watered by running streams, mysterious retreats where all was silence save the cooing of the doves sacred to the goddess. The symbol of Aschera, a simple pillar, or the trunk of a tree, perhaps with its leaves and branches, was the emblem of generative power." The spots once occupied by these groves are still deemed holy ground. Many of them are marked by Mohammedan mosques and Christian chapels. The sacred groves of Palestine where devout and voluptuous Jews mingled the worship of Jehovah and Aschera live, too, in the Protestant camp meetings of our western world, where, in shady bowers, Christians worship fervently at the altar of Christ, and then, not infrequently, meet clandestinely and pay their vows to Aschera. The palm tree, and where the palm did not grow, the pine, both symbols of the phallus, were worshiped. Newton says: "Palm-branches have been used in all ages as emblems of life, peace, and victory. They were strewn before Christ. Palm-Sunday, the feast of palms, is still kept. Even within the present [19th] century, on this festival, in many towns of France, women and children carried in procession at the end of their palm-branches a phallus made of bread, which they called, undisguisedly, 'la pine,' whence the festival was called 'La Fete des Pinnes.' The 'pine' having been blest by the priest, the women carefully preserved it during the following year as an amulet" (The Assyrian Grove). 6. Fetichism. Closely related to the foregoing worship is fetichism, the worship of idols and images. This is popularly supposed to be the religion only of savages and barbarians; but it also prevails to some extent among people who are considered civilized and enlightened. While it was opposed by some of the kings, priests, and prophets, idolatry flourished among the Jews from the earliest ages down almost to the Christian era. Abraham's father, Terah, was an idolater (Josh. xxv, 2). Jacob's wives were daughters of an idolater. Rachel stole and hid her father's images (Gen. xxxi, 30-34). Jacob's family were, for a time at least, idolaters. "Then Jacob said unto his household, and all that were with him, Put away the strange gods that are among you.... And they gave unto Jacob all the strange gods that were in their hands, ... and Jacob hid them under the oak which was by Shechem" (Gen. xxxv, 2-4). The kingdoms of Israel and Judah were steeped in idolatry. Israel "set them up images" and "served idols" (2 Kings xvii, 10, 11), and "did offer sweet savor to their idols" (Ezek. vi, 13). Judah was "full of idols" (Is. ii, 8). The fetichism of Christ's ancestors reappeared in the image worship of his devotees. The Christians of the middle ages, Dr. Draper says, "were immersed in fetichism." "The worship of images, of fragments of the cross, or bones, nails and other relics, a true fetich worship, was cultivated" (Conflict, p. 49). "A chip of the true cross, some iron filings from the chain of St. Peter, a tooth or bone of a martyr, were held in adoration; the world was full of the stupendous miracles which these relics had performed. But especially were painted or graven images of holy personages supposed to be endowed with such powers. They had become objects of actual worship" (Intellectual Development of Europe, vol. i, p. 414). Concerning the fetichism of the church, "Chambers's Encyclopedia" says: "It was usual not only to keep lights and burn incense before the images, to kiss them reverently; and to kneel down and pray before them, but some went so far as to make the images serve as godfathers and godmothers in baptism, and even to mingle the dust of the coloring matter scraped from the images with the Eucharist elements in the Holy Communion.... In many foreign churches, especially in Italy, in southern Germany, and in France [at the present time], are to be found images which are popularly reputed as especially sacred, and to which, or to prayers offered before which, miraculous effects are ascribed." Bishop Newton, of England, admits and deplores the existence of Christian fetichism. He says: "The consecrating and bowing down to images; the attributing of miraculous powers and virtues to idols; the setting up of little oratories, altars and statues in the streets and highways and on the tops of mountains; the carrying of images and relics in pompous procession, ... all these are equally parts of pagan and popish superstition." Greek, Lutheran, and Anglican churches are not free from fetichism, and even the Evangelical churches of this country make a fetich of a book. 7. Polytheism. Polytheism, the doctrine of a plurality of gods, has prevailed in every part of the world. The most interesting pantheons of the gods were those of India, Egypt, Greece, and Rome. The Hebrews, who were polytheists, borrowed their gods from Assyria and Babylonia. The pantheon of these nations comprised twelve principal gods and nearly a thousand minor deities. The chief of these gods was El. His consort was Elath. The Hebrews worshiped El under the name of El Shaddai and various other names. Elohim of the Bible, translated God, denotes the plural and included El and the minor gods who surrounded him. Yahweh, Iahveh, Jehovah, etc., as he is variously called--for Jews and Christians cannot spell and do not even know the name of their principal deity--is a god of Assyro-Babylonian origin. In addition to their national god, Jehovah, many of the Jews worshiped Baal, Moloch, and Tammouz, male deities, and Astarte, Aschera, and Istar, female deities. That the writers of the Bible recognized a plurality of gods--were polytheists--is proved by the following: "And the Lord God said, Behold, the man is become as one of us" (Gen. iii, 22). "Who is like unto thee, O Lord, among the gods?" (Ex. xv, 11.) "Among the gods, there is none like unto thee, O Lord" (Ps. lxxxvi, 8). "The Lord is a great God, and a great king above all gods" (Ps. xcv, 3). "Thou shalt not revile the gods" (Ex. xxii, 28). Monotheism, the doctrine of one god, is not merely the worship of one god, but the belief in the existence of one god only. Many were monotheistic in worship--worshiped one god, their national deity--while at the same time they were polytheistic in belief--believed in the existence of many gods. The Jews who worshiped Jehovah have been called monotheists. And yet, for a thousand years, they believed in the existence of Kemosh, Baal, Moloch, Tammouz, and other deities. They believed that Jehovah was their national god and that they owed allegiance to him; just as the subjects of an earthly king profess their loyalty to him without denying the existence of other kings. While Christians profess Monotheism they are really polytheists--worship three gods--Father (Jehovah), Son (Christ), and Holy Ghost; and recognize a god of Evil, Satan. To these must also be added a female deity, the Virgin Mary, who is to the devout Catholic as much of a divinity as Isis and Venus were to ancient polytheists. The canonization and adoration of the saints, too, are analogous to the worship of the inferior deities of ancient times. After recounting what he believes to be the salutary influences exerted by the medieval conception of the Virgin, Lecky says: "But the price, and perhaps the necessary price, of this was the exaltation of the Virgin as an omnipresent deity of infinite power as well as infinite condescension. The legends represented her as performing every kind of prodigy.... The painters depicted her invested with the divine aureole, judging men on equal terms with her Son, or even retaining her ascendancy over him in heaven. In the devotions of the people she was addressed in terms identical with those employed to the Almighty. A reverence similar in kind but less in degree was soon bestowed upon the other saints, who speedily assumed the position of the minor deities of Paganism" (History of Rationalism, Vol. I, pp. 226, 227). Regarding the deification and worship of saints Hallam says: "Every cathedral or monastery had its tutelar saint, and every saint his legend, fabricated in order to enrich the churches under his protection, by exaggerating his virtues, his miracles, and consequently his power of serving those who paid liberally for his patronage. Many of those saints were imaginary persons; sometimes a blundered inscription added a name to the calendar; and sometimes, it is said, a heathen god was surprised at the company to which he was introduced, and the rites with which he was honored" (Middle Ages, p. 603). The church historian Mosheim admits and deplores the truth of this: "It is, at the same time, as undoubtedly certain, as it is extravagant and monstrous, that the worship of the martyrs was modeled, by degrees, according to the religious services that were paid to the gods before the coming of Christ" (Ecclesiastical History, p. 98). Bishop Newton says: "The very same temples, the very same images, which were once consecrated to Jupiter and the other demons [gods], are now consecrated to the Virgin Mary and the other saints." Milman says that at an early period "Christianity began to approach to a polytheistic form, or at least to permit what it is difficult to call by any other name than polytheistic, habits and feelings of devotion" (History of Christianity, Vol. III, p. 424). 8. Monotheism. Monotheism, as previously stated, is the doctrine of one god only. It has gradually displaced, to a great extent, the fetichism and polytheism of earlier times. Comte's law of human development is as follows: 1. Theological, or fictitious, 2. Metaphysical, or abstract, 3. Scientific, or positive. "In the Theological state, the human mind, seeking the essential nature of things, the first and final causes (the origin and purpose) of all effects--in short Absolute knowledge--supposes all phenomena to be produced by the immediate action of supernatural beings. "In the Metaphysical state, which is only a modification of the first, the mind supposes, instead of supernatural beings, abstract forms, veritable entities (that is, personified abstractions) inherent in all things, and capable of producing all phenomena. "In the final, the Positive state, the mind has given over the vain search after Absolute notions, the origin and destination of the universe, and the causes of phenomena, and applies itself to the study of their laws--that is, their invariable relations of succession and resemblance" (Positive Philosophy, pp. 26, 27). The lowest state of human development is the theological. Here the masses of mankind still repose. Only the scholars and thinkers have advanced beyond this and many of these have only reached the second or metaphysical state. The highest point in the theological state is monotheism. To Judaism Christians ascribe the glory of having been the first religion to teach a pure monotheism. But monotheism existed long before the Jews attained to it. Zoroaster and his earliest followers were monotheists, dualism being a later development of the Persian theology. The adoption of monotheism by the Jews, which occurred only at a very late period in their history, was not, however, the result of a divine revelation, or even of an intellectual superiority, for the Jews were immeasurably inferior intellectually to the Greeks and Romans, to the Hindus and Egyptians, and to the Assyrians and Babylonians, who are supposed to have retained a belief in polytheism. This monotheism of the Jews was chiefly the result of a religious intolerance never before equaled and never since surpassed, except in the history of Christianity and Mohammedanism, the daughters of Judaism. Jehovistic priests and kings tolerated no rivals of their god and made death the penalty for disloyalty to him. The Jewish nation became monotheistic for the same reason that Spain, in the clutches of the Inquisition, became entirely Christian. Jesus of Nazareth and his disciples, if they existed, were probably monotheists, believed that Jehovah was the only God, and neither believed nor claimed that Jesus was other than the son of man. As generations passed the man became obscured, his deeds were magnified until at length he was accepted as the Son of God, and a God himself. The deification of Jesus, then, together with the apotheosis of other mortals, cannot be regarded as an evolution from Jewish monotheism to a higher plane, but rather as a relapse from monotheism to polytheism. 9. The Mediatorial Idea. This idea had its origin chiefly in the worship of the elements and forces of nature by primitive man. He believed that these elements and forces were intelligent beings. He realized that in their presence he was in a measure helpless. He therefore sought to win their favor and appease their wrath. He made offerings to them; he prayed to them; he worshiped them. But other men, more wise, more cunning, and more fortunate, appeared to have greater influence with these deities. He employed them to intercede for him; and thus the priesthood was established. The priest was the first mediator. More complex religious systems were in time evolved, and in some of them mediatorial gods appeared. The mediatorial idea was prominent in the Persian system. Mithra was the Persian mediator. The worship of Mithra was carried to Rome and the Romans became acquainted with the mediatorial idea. In an exposition of Philo's philosophy, Mrs. Evans says: "The most exalted spirits are able to raise themselves to the pure essence and find peace and joy which earthly conditions cannot disturb; but weaker natures need a helper in a Being, who, coming from above, can dwell below and lift their souls to God. The majority of mankind, in their passage along the slippery path of life, are sure to fall, and would perish if it were not for a mediator between themselves and God.... The power of the Caesars, culminating in Augustus, enabled them to claim divine honors from the people, already disposed to see in them chosen agents of celestial sovereignty. Rome, according to the expression of Valerius Maximus, recognized in the Caesars the mediators between heaven and earth. And that was before Christianity introduced its anointed mediator" (The Christ Myth, pp. 90, 92). The God of the Jews, to quote the words of Jefferson, was "cruel, vindictive, capricious and unjust." He had cursed his creation; he had drowned a world; he had imposed the sentence of death--spiritual as well as physical--upon his children. To placate this monster, to induce him to remit this sentence, the priests were powerless. Millions of animals, and even human beings, had been sacrificed to him in vain. At length his "only begotten son," Jesus Christ, offered himself as a sacrifice to atone for the sins of the world. The sacrifice was accepted, and a reconciliation was effected between God and man. Thus Christ became the great mediator of Christianity. "There is one God, and one mediator between God and men, the man Christ Jesus" (1 Tim. ii, 5). "He is the mediator of the new testament" (Heb. ix, 15). From Persia and from Rome this mediatorial God has come. 10. The Messianic Idea. The desire for a deliverer naturally arises in the minds of a people who are in subjection and bondage. This desire was the germ of the Messianic idea. While there are traces of this idea in the earlier writings of the Hebrews, it reached its highest development during and immediately following the Captivity, and again in the Maccabean age. The Messiah of Judaism and the Messiah, or Christ, of Christianity, were derived from the Persian theology, the adherents of each system modifying the doctrine to suit their respective notions. In its article on Zoroaster, "Chambers's Encyclopedia" says: "There is an important element to be noticed, viz., the Messiah, or Sosiosh, from whom the Jewish and Christian notions of a Messiah are held by many to have been derived.... Even a superficial glance at this sketch will show our readers what very close parallels between Jewish and Christian notions on the one hand, and the Zoroastrian on the other, are to be drawn." Christians cite numerous passages from the writings of the Old Testament which they claim foretold the advent of Jesus. Not one of these passages, as originally penned, refers in the remotest degree to him, though many of them do refer to the office he is said to have filled. The Jews hoped for a deliverer, for a national leader who would reestablish the kingdom of Israel, and restore to it the glory of David's reign. They were loyal to the house of David and believed that this deliverer would be a descendant, a son, of David. Pietists, too, in the fervor of their religious enthusiasm dreamed of universal conversion to the Jehovistic theocracy. In the writings of their prophets and poets these hopes and dreams found expression. "I have made a covenant with my chosen, I have sworn unto David, my servant, thy seed will I establish forever, and build up thy throne to all generations" (Ps. xxxix, 3, 4). "And the kingdom and dominion, and the greatness of the kingdom under the whole heaven, shall be given to the people of the saints of the most High, whose kingdom is an everlasting kingdom, and all dominions shall serve and obey him" (Dan. vii, 27). While the Messianic idea was originally a Persian idea, the materials used in the formation of the Christian Messiah were drawn largely from the Jewish Scriptures. There are passages in the Old Testament, as we have seen, which predict the coming of a Messiah. These furnished a portion of the materials out of which this Messianic deity, Christ, was formed. There are many more which have no reference whatever to a Messiah which have been made to serve as Messianic prophecies. The Old Testament, as we have it, is alleged to be a Jewish work. It is, rather, a Christian work. It is a Christian version of ancient Jewish writings, every book of which has been more or less Christianized. Much of it is scarcely recognizable to a Jewish scholar. This is especially true of so-called Messianic prophecies. The Christian Messiah was, on the one hand, modeled, to a considerable extent, after the Jewish ideal, while the Jewish materials, on the other hand, were freely altered to fit the new conception. Referring to the work of the Evangelists, M. Renan says: "Sometimes they reasoned thus: 'The Messiah ought to do such a thing; now Jesus is the Messiah, therefore Jesus has done such a thing.' At other times, by an inverse process, it was said: 'Such a thing has happened to Jesus; now Jesus is the Messiah; therefore such a thing was to happen to the Messiah.'" (Jesus, p. 27). That the so-called Messianic prophecies of the Jewish Scriptures were the immediate source of the Christ is apparent. That he was, however, merely a borrowed idea and not a historical realization of these prophecies is equally apparent. The Jews were expecting a Messiah. Had Jesus realized these expectations they would have accepted him. But he did not realize them. These prophecies were not fulfilled in him. He was not a son of David; he did not deliver his race from bondage; he did not become a king; the important events that were to attend and follow Messiah's advent form no part even of his alleged history. His rejection by the Jews proves him to be either a false Messiah, or an imaginary being--a historical myth, or a pure myth--in either case a myth. The Jewish argument against Jesus as the Messiah is unanswerable: "We do not find in the present comparatively imperfect stage of human progress the realization of that blessed condition of mankind which the prophet Isaiah associates with the era when Messiah is to appear. And as our Hebrew Scriptures speak of one Messianic advent only, and not of two advents; and as the inspired Book does not preach Messiah's kingdom as a matter of faith, but distinctly identifies it with matters of fact which are to be made evident to the senses, we cling to the plain inference to be drawn from the text of the Bible, and we deny that Messiah has yet appeared, and upon the following grounds: First, because of the three distinctive facts which the inspired seer of Judah inseparably connects with the advent of the Messiah, viz., (1) the cessation of war and the uninterrupted reign of peace, (2) the prevalence of a perfect concord of opinion on all matters bearing upon the worship of the one and only God, and (3) the ingathering of the remnant of Judah and of the dispersed ten tribes of Israel--not one has, up to the present time, been accomplished. Second, we dissent from the proposition that Jesus of Nazareth is the Messiah announced by the prophets, because the church which he founded, and which his successors developed, has offered, during a succession of centuries, most singular contrast to what is described by the Hebrew Scriptures as the immediate consequence of Messiah's advent, and of his glorious kingdom. The prophet Isaiah declares that when the Messiah appears, peace, love, and union will be permanently established; and every candid man must admit that the world has not realized the accomplishment of this prophecy. Again, in the days of Messiah, all men, as Scripture saith, 'are to serve God with one accord'; and yet it is very certain that since the appearance of him whom Christians believe to be Messiah, mankind has been split into more hostile divisions on the ground of religious belief, and more antagonistic sects have sprung up, than in any historic age before Christianity was preached." With orthodox Jews the belief in a Messiah is a deep rooted conviction. For 2500 years there has been displayed in front of the synagogue this sign: "Wanted--a Messiah." During this time many, including Jesus, Bar-Cocheba, Moses of Candia, and Sabatai Zevi, have applied for the place, but all applicants have been rejected, and the Messianic predictions of the Jewish prophets are yet to be fulfilled. So, too, are those of the Persian prophet. In the meantime the followers of Jesus--turning from the Jews to the Gentiles--have from this borrowed idea evolved a deity who divides with Brahma, Buddha, and Allah, the worship of the world. 11. The Logos (Word). The exaltation and deification of Jesus is thus described by the Dutch theologian, Dr. Hooykaas: "When Jesus was gone, those who had known him personally insensibly surrounded him with a glory that shone at last with a more than human splendor. The spiritual blessings which flowed in ever rich measure from his person and his gospel compelled the Christians to exalt him ever more and more. The title of Son of God, which his followers had given him as the future Messiah, was elastic and ambiguous enough to lend itself very readily to this process. The idea of his being the Messiah now no longer sufficed; he was something other and something far more than the Jewish Messiah. The philosophy and theology of the day were laid under contribution; and nothing could so well indicate his significance for all humanity and his unapproachable exaltation as the idea that he was the Word" (Bible for Learners, Vol. III, pp. 670, 671). The doctrine of the Logos, or Word, as an emanation or essence of divine wisdom is very old. It is found in the ancient religions of Egypt and India. It was recognized in the Persian theology, and was incorporated into the Jewish theology by the Babylonian exiles. It constitutes an important element in the Platonic philosophy. It received its highest development and exposition in the writings of the Jewish philosopher Philo, a contemporary of Jesus. Concerning the Logos, Dean Milman, in his "History of Christianity," says: "This Being was more or less distinctly impersonated, according to the more popular or more philosophic, the more material or the more abstract, notions of the age of the people. This was the doctrine from the Ganges, or even the shores of the Yellow Sea, to the Ilissus: it was the fundamental principle of the Indian religion and the Indian philosophy; it was the basis of Zoroastrianism; it was pure Platonism; it was the Platonic Judaism of the Alexandrian school." Another English clergyman, Mr. Lake, says: "We can trace its [the Word's] birthplace in the philosophic speculations of the ancient world; we can note its gradual development and growth; we can see it in its early youth passing (through Philo and others), from Grecian philosophy into the current of Jewish thought" (Philo, Plato, and Paul, p. 71). The presentation of Jesus as an incarnation of the Logos belongs to the second century and is prominent in the Fourth Gospel. The ideas are chiefly those of Plato and Philo. Plato's trinity was Thought, Word and Deed. The Word occupies the second place in the Platonic trinity as it does in the Christian trinity. That the author of the gospel of John, written more than a century after the time of Philo, borrowed largely from that philosopher, is shown by the following parallels drawn from their writings: Philo.--"The Logos is the Son of God" (De Profugis). John.--"This [the Word] is the Son of God" (i, 34). Philo.--"The Logos is considered the same as God" (De Somniis). John.--"The Word was God" (i, 1). Philo.--"He [the Logos] was before all things" (De Leg. Allegor). John.--"The same [the Word] was in the beginning with God" (i, 2). Philo.--"The Logos is the agent by whom the world was made" (De Leg. Allegor). John.--"All things were made by him [the Word]" (i, 3). Philo.--"The Logos is the light of the world" (De Somniis). John.--"The Word was the true light" (i, 9). Philo.--"The Logos only can see God" (De Confus. Ling.). John.--"No man hath seen God.... He [the Word] hath declared him" (i, 18). 12. The Perfect Man. The New Testament contains at least five different mythical types or conceptions of Jesus Christ: 1. The Messiah of the synoptics, omitting the opening chapters of Matthew and Luke. 2. The Son of God, or demi-god, introduced in these opening chapters. 3. The incarnate Logos or God of John. 4. The Christ of Paul. 5. Eliminating these more or less supernatural types, there remains in these writings, in addition to the purely natural and purely human Jesus of Nazareth, a type known as the Ideal or Perfect Alan. This type is not only mythical, but, in the stricter sense, supernatural and superhuman; for the perfect man must always remain an ideal rather than a real type of man. The last type is believed by many to represent the primal stage in the deification of Jesus. This conception of Jesus has been held by many Rationalistic Christians, and by some conservative Rationalists in all ages. This, too, forms a part of the dualistic conception of Christ entertained by orthodox Christians, a conception which supposes him to have combined in his incarnation both a human and a divine element which made him both man and God. The portrayal of the vicarious suffering and death of this man has been one of the most powerful agents in the propagation of Christianity. The molders of primitive Christianity were greatly influenced by various philosophical speculations--by the teachings of Pythagoras and Plato among the earlier, and by the writings of Philo and Seneca among the later philosophers. To Philo, we have seen, they were indebted largely for the Logos; to Seneca they were indebted chiefly for the Ideal or Perfect Man. The following extracts are from "The Christ Myth" of Mrs. Evans: "Seneca advises the cherishing of a hope that victory in the form of a wise man will finally appear, because humanity requires that the exemplification of perfection should be visible." "Seneca's conception of perfect humanity was a combination of the wise man of the Platonists and Stoics and the gentle sufferer who endures insult and sorrow." "The Logos of Philo was too ethereal to answer all the demands of feeble humanity. The God-man must live and suffer and die among and for the people in order to make the sacrifice complete." "Philo endowed the Logos of Heraclitus with the authority of a priestly mediator, who, floating between earth and heaven, brings God and man together; Seneca places this mediator as a suffering man among men. Philo, from his Jewish standpoint, made the Logos the priestly intercessor; Seneca, from the standpoint of his Stoical society, believed in the possibility of a perfect man as savior and guide of weaker men." Cognizant of the striking resemblance between some of the writings of the New Testament and the writings of the Stoics, particularly of Seneca, modern Christian apologists affect to believe that this philosopher was acquainted with the history and the gospel of Christ. But the Stoical philosophy propounded by Seneca had been forming ever since the time of Zeno, three centuries before the time of Christ. Seneca himself was born before the Christian era, and no part of the New Testament was in existence when he wrote. Relative to this contention Lecky writes: "It is admitted that the greatest moralists of the Roman empire either never mentioned Christianity, or mentioned it with contempt.... The Jews, with whom the Christians were then identified, he (Seneca) emphatically describes as 'an accursed race.'" (European Morals, vol. 1, pp. 340, 342). During the second and third centuries Christian scholars ransacked Pagan literature for recognitions of Christ and Christianity. Regarding this, Lecky says: "At the time, when the passion for discovering these connections was most extravagant, the notion of Seneca and his followers being inspired by the Christians was unknown" (Ibid, p. 346). Gibbon says: "The new sect [Christians] is totally unnoticed by Seneca" (Rome, vol. i, 587, note). Out of all these various religious systems and doctrines--out of sex worship and sun worship--out of the worship of the stars and the worship of the elements--out of the worship of animals and the worship of idols--out of Polytheism and Monotheism--out of the Mediatorial and Messianic ideas--out of the Logos and the Ideal Man of the philosophers--this Christ has come. CHAPTER XI. SOURCES OF THE CHRIST MYTH--PAGAN DIVINITIES. In the preceding chapter I have noticed some of the typical religious systems and beliefs from which Christ and Christianity were to a great extent derived. I shall next notice more particularly some of the so-called divine beings--some of the gods, and some of the mortals endowed with supernatural gifts, belonging to these systems. I shall show that there were many sons of gods besides Jehovah's "only begotten Son"; that each of them possessed some attribute possessed by him; that all of them lived or existed in the minds of men, centuries before his time; and that many of them were prototypes of him, and furnished in a large degree the ideas which suggested him, or which are associated with him and his religion. My list will comprise the following, all of whom were believed by their worshipers or followers to be of divine descent: Krishna, Buddha, Confucius, Laou-tsze, Zoroaster, Mithra, Sosiosh, Adonis, Osiris, Horus, Zeus, Apollo, Perseus, Hercules, Dionysos, Prometheus, Esculapius, Plato, Pythagoras, Bacchus, Saturn, Quirinus, Odin, Thor, and Baldur. Krishna. Krishna was the eighth Avatar or incarnation of the god Vishnu, one of the Hindoo Trinity. In this incarnation Vishnu, it is said, "appeared in all the fullness of his power and glory." His mother was Devaki. He is believed to be a historical character, but his real history, like that of Jesus, is almost entirely obscured by myths. He lived from 900 to 1,200 years before the Christian era. The story of his life is to be found in the "Bhagavat," one of the "Puranas," while his religious teachings are given in the "Bhagavad-Gita," a poem belonging to the "Mahabarata." The points of resemblance between Krishna and Christ that have been printed would fill a volume. Some of these are apocryphal, and not confirmed by the canonical scriptures of India. The limits of this chapter preclude an extended list even of the undoubtedly genuine. I shall confine myself chiefly to a presentation of the most important ones relating to their births. These, according to the Christian translator of the "Bhagavat Purana," Rev. Thomas Maurice, are as follows: 1. Both were miraculously conceived. 2. Both were divine incarnations. 3. Both were of royal descent. 4. Devatas or angels sang songs of praise at the birth of each. 5. Both were visited by neighboring shepherds. 6. In both cases the reigning monarch, fearing that he would be supplanted in his kingdom by the divine child, sought to destroy him. 7. Both were saved by friends who fled with them in the night to distant countries. 8. Foiled in their attempts to discover the babes both kings issued decrees that all the infants should be put to death. Writing of Krishna in the eighteenth century, Sir William Jones says: "In the Sanscrit dictionary, compiled more than two thousand years ago, we have the whole history of the incarnate deity, born of a virgin, and miraculously escaping in infancy from the reigning tyrant of his country" (Asiatic Researches, Vol. I, p. 273). The subsequent careers of these deities are analogous in many respects. Their missions were the same--the salvation of mankind. Both performed miracles--healed the sick and raised the dead. Both died for man by man. There is a tradition, though not to be found in the Hindoo scriptures, that Krishna, like Christ, was crucified. Various incidents recorded in the life of Christ were doubtless suggested by similar incidents in the life of Krishna. He washed the feet of his disciples because Krishna had washed the feet of the Brahmins. He taught his disciples the possibility of removing a mountain, because Krishna, to protect his worshipers from the wrath of Indra, raised Mount Goverdhen above them. His parents in their flight with him, as related in the Gospel of the Infancy, stopped at a place called Maturea. Krishna was born at Mathura. The earliest followers of each were from the lower classes of society, those of Krishna being herdsmen and milkmaids. Christ's most ardent worshipers have from the first been women. "Chrishna," to quote the authority last mentioned, "continues to this hour the darling god of the women of India." McClintock and Strong's "Cyclopedia" notes the following events in the history of Krishna which correspond with those related of Christ: "That he was miraculously born at midnight of a human mother, and saluted by a chorus of Devatas [angels]; that he was cradled among cowherds, during which period of life he was persecuted by the giant Kansa, and saved by his mother's flight; the miracles with which his life abounds, among which were the raising of the dead and the cleansing of the leprous" (Art. Krishna). The celebrated missionary and traveler, Pere Huc, who made a journey of several thousand miles through China and Thibet, says: "If we addressed a Mogul or Thibetan this question, Who is Krishna? the reply was instantly, 'The savior of men.'" "All that converting the Hindoos to Christianity does for them," says Robert Cheyne, "is to change the object of their worship from Krishna to Christ." Of Krishna's gospel, the "Bhagavad-Gita," "Appleton's Cyclopedia" says: "Its correspondence with the New Testament is indeed striking." The parallels between Krishna and Christ to be found in the Hindoo scriptures and the Christian Gospels are too numerous and too exact to be accidental. The legends of the one were borrowed from the other. It is admitted by Christian scholars that Krishna lived many centuries before Christ. To admit the priority of the Krishna legends is to deny, to this extent, the originality of the Gospels. To break the force of the logical conclusion to be drawn from this some argue that while Krishna himself antedated Christ, the legends concerning him are of later origin and borrowed from the Evangelists. Regarding this contention Judge Waite, in his "History of the Christian Religion," says: "Here then, we have the older religion and the older god. This, in the absence of any evidence on the other side, ought to settle the question. To assume without evidence that the older religion has been interpolated from the later, and that the legends of the older hero have been made to conform to the history of a later character, is worse than illogical--it is absurd." Sir William Jones, one of the best Christian authorities on Sanscrit literature, and the translator of the "Bhagavad-Gita," says: "That the name of Krishna, and the general outline of his history, were long anterior to the birth of our Savior, and probably to the time of Homer [950 B. C.], we know very certainly" (Asiatic Researches, Vol. I, p. 254). Buddha. The ninth incarnation of Vishnu was Buddha. The word Buddha, like the word Christ, is not a name, but a title. It means "the enlightened one." The name of this religious founder was Siddhartha Gautama. He was born about 643 B. C., and died 563 B. C. His mother, Mahamaya, was a virgin. Dean Milman, in his "History of Christianity," says: "Budh, according to a tradition known in the West, was born of a virgin" (Vol. I, p. 99, note). Devaki, Mary, and Mahamaya, all gave birth to their children among strangers. Krishna was born in a prison, Christ in a stable, and Buddha in a garden. "Werner's Encyclopedia," in its article on Buddha, speaks of "the marvelous stories which gathered round the belief in his voluntary incarnation, the miracles at his birth, the prophecies of the aged saint at his formal presentation to his father, and how nature altered her course to keep a shadow over his cradle, whilst the sages from afar came and worshiped him." The "Tripitaka," the principal Bible of the Buddhists, containing the history and teachings of Buddha, is a collection of books written in the centuries immediately following Buddha. The canon was finally determined at the Council of Pataliputra, held under the auspices of the Emperor Asoka the Great, 244 B. C., more than 600 years before the Christian canon was established. The "Lalita Vistara," the sacred book of the Northern Buddhists, was written long before the Christian era. Buddha was "about 30 years old" when he began his ministry. He fasted "seven times seven nights and days." He had a "band of disciples" who accompanied him. He traveled from place to place and "preached to large multitudes." Bishop Bigandet calls his first sermon the "Sermon on the Mount." At his Renunciation "he forsook father and mother, wife and child." His mission was "to establish the kingdom of righteousness." "Buddha," says Max Muller, "promised salvation to all; and he commanded his disciples to preach his doctrine in all places and to all men." "Self-conquest and universal charity" are the fundamental principles of his religion. He enjoined humility, and commanded his followers to conceal their charities. "Return good for evil"; "overcome anger with love"; "love your enemies," were some of his precepts. Buddha formulated the following commandments: "Not to kill; not to steal; not to lie; not to commit adultery; not to use strong drink." Christ said: "Thou knowest the commandments, do not commit adultery; do not kill; do not steal; do not bear false witness; honor thy father and thy mother (Luke xviii, 20). Christ ignored the Decalogue of Moses and, like Buddha, presented a pentade which, with the exception of one commandment, is the same as that of Buddha. Prof. Seydel, of the University of Leipsic, points out fifty analogies between Christianity and Buddhism. Dr. Schleiden calls attention to over one hundred. Baron Harden-Hickey says: "Countless analogies exist between the Buddhistic and Christian legends--analogies so striking that they forcibly prove to an impartial mind that a common origin must necessarily be given to the teachings of Sakay-Muni and those of Jesus." Concerning the biographical accounts of the two religious teachers Harden-Hickey says: "One account must necessarily be a copy of the other, and since the Buddhist biographer, living long before the birth of Christ, could not have borrowed from the Christian one, the plain inference is that the early creed-mongers of Alexandria were guilty of an act of plagiarism." The following are some of the parallels presented by this writer: Both have genealogies tracing their descent from ancestral kings. Both were born of virgin mothers. The conception of each was announced by a divine messenger. The hymns uttered at the two annunciations resemble each other. Both were visited by wise men who brought them gifts. Both were presented in the temple. The aged Simeon of the one account corresponds to the aged Asita of the other. As "the child (Jesus) grew and waxed strong in spirit," so "the child (Sakay-Muni) waxed and increased in strength." Both in childhood discoursed before teachers. Both fasted in the wilderness. Both were tempted. Angels or devatas ministered to each. Buddha bathed in the Narajana, and Christ was baptized in the Jordan. The mission of each was proclaimed by a voice from heaven. Both performed miracles. Both sent out disciples to propagate their faiths. In calling their disciples the command of each was, "Follow me." Buddha preached on the Holy Hill, and Christ delivered his sermon on the Mount. The phraseology of the sermons of Buddha and the sermon ascribed to Christ is, in many instances, the same. Both Buddha and Christ compare themselves to husbandmen sowing seed. The story of the prodigal son is found in both Scriptures. The account of the man born blind is common to both. In both the mustard seed is used as a simile for littleness. Christ speaks of "a foolish man, which built his house upon the sand"; Buddha says, "Perishable is the city built of sand." Both speak of "the rain which falls on the just and on the unjust." The story of the ruler, Nicodemus, who came to Jesus by night, has its parallel in the story of the rich man who came to Buddha by night. A converted courtezan, Magdalena, followed Jesus, and a converted courtezan, Ambapali, followed Buddha. There is a legend of a traitor connected with each. Both made triumphal entries, Christ into Jerusalem, and Buddha into Rajagriba. Both proclaimed kingdoms not of this world. The eternal life promised by Christ corresponds to the eternal peace, Nirvana, promised by Buddha. Both religions recognize a trinity. "Catholic and Protestant missionaries," to quote Max Muller again, "vie with each other in their praises of Buddha." Bishop Bigandet, one of the leading Christian writers on Buddha, says: "In reading the particulars of the life of Buddha it is impossible not to feel reminded of many circumstances relating to our Savior's life as sketched by the evangelists. It may be said in favor of Buddhism that no philosophic-religious system has ever upheld to an equal degree the notions of a savior and deliverer, and the necessity of his mission for procuring the salvation of man." St. Hilaire says: "He [Buddha] requires humility, disregard of worldly wealth, patience and resignation in adversity, love to enemies ... non-resistance to evil, confession of sins and conversion." The bishop of Ramatha says: "There are many moral precepts equally commanded and enforced in common by both creeds. It will not be rash to assert that most of the moral truths prescribed in the gospel are to be met with in the Buddhistic scriptures." Writing of Buddhism, Mrs. Spier, in her "Life in Ancient India," says: "Before God planted Christianity upon earth, he took a branch from the luxuriant tree, and threw it down to India." The external forms of Christianity, especially of Catholic Christianity, are modeled in a large degree after those of Buddhism. Of Northern Buddhism (Lamaism) the "Encyclopedia Britannica" says: "Lamaism, with its shaven priests, its bells and rosaries, its images and holy water, its popes and bishops, its abbots and monks of many grades, its processions and feast days, its confessional and purgatory, and its worship of the double Virgin, so strongly resembles Romanism that the first Catholic missionaries thought it must be an imitation by the devil of the religion of Christ." The central object in every Buddhist temple is an image of Buddha. The central object in every Catholic church is an image of Christ. Holy relics and the veneration of saints are prominent in both. Buddha commanded his disciples to preach his gospel to all men. Christ commanded his disciples to do the same. In obedience to these commands the world was filled with missionaries, and largely as the result of this the adherents of these religious systems outnumber those of all others combined. Christian tradition says that Thomas visited India. Some believe that it was in this way that the early Christians became acquainted with the history and teachings of Krishna and Buddha. This may be true, but so far as the Buddhistic element in Christianity is concerned it is quite as reasonable to suppose that Buddhist missionaries had previously carried their religion to Alexandria and Rome, where the molders of the Christian creed obtained their knowledge of it. "That remarkable missionary movement, beginning 300 B. C.," says Max Muller, "sent forth a succession of devoted men who spent their lives in spreading the faith of Buddha over all parts of Asia." Harden-Hickey says: "It is not doubted at the present day that Indian religious ideas, and indeed more particularly those of Buddhism, reached and were even propagated as far as Egypt, Asia Minor, and Palestine, long before the Christian era." Connected with the triumphs of these religious faiths there is a historical analogy deserving mention. Three centuries after the time of Buddha, Asoka the Great, emperor of India, became a convert to the Buddhist faith, made it the state religion of the empire, and did more than any other man to secure its supremacy in the East. Three centuries after Christ, Constantine the Great, emperor of Rome, became a convert to the Christian faith, made it the state religion of his empire, and won for it the supremacy of the West. Remuset says: "Buddhism has been called the Christianity of the East." It would be more appropriate to call Christianity the Buddhism of the West. Buddha, and not Christ, was "The Light of Asia." At this torch Christians lighted their taper and called it "The Light of the World." Confucius. This great Chinese sage and religious founder was born 551 B. C. His followers believed him to be divine. His birth was attended by prodigies. Magi and angels visited him, while celestial music filled the air. His disciples invented a genealogy for him, giving him a princely descent from Hoang-ti, a Chinese monarch, just as the Christian Evangelists at a later period invented genealogies for Christ, giving him a princely pedigree from David. Concerning his deification the "International Encyclopedia" says: "By the irony of fate he was deified after his death, and, like Buddha, Confucius, who had little belief in the supernatural, became a divinity." As Boulger states, "His name and his teachings were perpetuated by a band of devoted disciples, and the book which contained the moral and philosophical axioms of Confucius passed into the classical literature of the country and stood in the place of a Bible for the Chinese" (History of China, p. 16). Of all the great religious systems which have appeared since the dawn of history Buddhism and Confucianism, as originally presented, from a rational standpoint, stand pre-eminent. In both the supernatural is almost entirely absent. Both are godless religions, and both have been, for the most part, bloodless religions. The adherents of both have practiced in the highest degree what the adherents of their great rival have only professed: "On earth peace, good will toward men." Both systems, like primitive Christianity, have been corrupted; but the system of Confucius has suffered less than that of Buddha. The religious, or rather ethical, system taught by Confucius, is the religion of the intellectual aristocracy of China, and, to a great extent, the religion of the most enlightened everywhere. Christian scholars have been surprised to find in the writings of Confucius some of the best teachings attributed to Christ. The Golden Rule has been ascribed to the Christian founder. And yet this rule is the very essence of Confucianism and was borrowed from it. In a presentation of the teachings of the Chinese sage, Rev. James Legge of Oxford University, the highest European authority on China and Confucius, says: "Foremost among these we must rank his distinct enunciation of the Golden Rule, deduced by him from his study of man's mental condition. Several times he gave that rule in express words: 'What you do not like when done to yourself do not to others.'" To retain for Christ a portion of the credit due Confucius, Christians assert that the Chinese moralist merely taught the negative form of this rule, the abstaining from doing to others what we dislike to have them do to us, while Christ taught the positive form, the doing to others what we desire them to do to us. Regarding this Mr. Legge says: "It has been said that he only gave the rule in a negative form; but he understood it also in its positive and most comprehensive form, and deplored on one occasion at least, that he had not himself always attained to taking the initiative in doing to others as he would have them do to him." Another analogy may be noticed. The religion of Confucius enjoins absolute obedience to national rulers. This, too, is a prominent tenet of the Christian religion. As the result of this, Confucianism became and has remained the state religion of China, while Christianity became and has remained the state religion of Europe. Laou-tsze. Laou-tsze, the other great religious founder of China, was born 604 B. C. His entry into the world and his exit from it were attended by miracles. Like Christ he was miraculously conceived; like Christ he ascended bodily into heaven. He was believed to be an incarnation of an astral god. His gospel, the "Tao Teh King," was written by him. "Tao" means "the way." Christ was called "the Way." Man, according to this gospel, is both a material and a spiritual being. By the renunciation of riches and worldly enjoyments the soul attains to immortality. The most divine of mortals are, like Enoch and Elijah, translated to heaven without suffering death. Laou-tsze taught that men to be righteous must become "as little children." Christ said: "Except ye be converted and become as little children, ye shall not enter into the kingdom of heaven" (Matt. xviii, 3). The more ignorant followers of Laou-tsze, like the more ignorant followers of Christ, believe that many diseases are caused by evil spirits, and their priests, like Christ, practice exorcism to expel them. Like the Catholics, they have monasteries and convents. Of Laou-tsze's writings Prof. Montuci, the Italian philologist, says: "Many things about a triune God are so clearly expressed that no one who has read this book can doubt that the mystery of the Holy Trinity was revealed to the Chinese five centuries before the coming of Christ." There is one element in Christianity which was not borrowed from Paganism--religious intolerance. Referring to Buddhism, Confucianism, and Taouism, a writer on China says: "Between the followers of the three national religions there is not only a total absence of persecution and bitter feeling, but a very great indifference as to which of them a man may belong.... Among the politer classes, when strangers meet, the question is asked: 'To what sublime religion do you belong?' and each one pronounces a eulogium, not on his own religion, but on that professed by the others, and concludes with the oft-repeated formula: 'Religions are many; reason is one; we are all brothers.'" Zoroaster. The Persian prophet Zoroaster lived and wrote at least 1200 years before the Christian era. From his teachings some of the most important doctrines of Christianity, as well as of Judaism, were derived. According to the Persian theology the universe is ruled by two great powers, Ormuzd (God) and Ahrimanes (Satan). The one represents light, the other darkness; the one is good, the other evil. Between these two powers there is perpetual war. The center of battle is man, each striving for his soul. God created man with a free will to choose between good and evil. Those who choose the good are rewarded with everlasting life in heaven; those who choose the evil are punished with endless misery in hell; while those in whom the good and evil are balanced pass into an intermediate state (purgatory), to remain until the last judgment. To save mankind God sent a savior in the person of Zoroaster with a divine revelation, the "Zend Avesta." Like Christ, Zoroaster was of supernatural origin and endowed with superhuman powers. Like Christ, he believed that Satan would be dethroned and cast into hell; like Christ he believed that the end of the world and the kingdom of God were at hand; like Christ, he taught his followers to worship God; like Christ he declared that God heard and answered prayer; like Christ he was tempted by Satan; like Christ he performed miracles; like Christ he was slain by those whom he had come to save. McClintock and Strong's "Cyclopedia" gives a summary of the principal doctrines of Zoroaster among which are the following: "The principal duty of man in this life is to obey the word and commandments of God. "Those who obey the word of God will be free from all defects and immortal. "God exercises his rule in the world through the works prompted by the Divine Spirit, who is working in man and nature. "Men should pray to God and worship him. He hears the prayers of the good. "All men live solely through the bounty of God. "The soul of the pure will hereafter enjoy everlasting life; that of the wicked will have to undergo everlasting punishment" (Art. Zoroaster). Devils and angels are of Persian origin. Dr. Kalisch, the eminent Jewish scholar, says: "When the Jews, ever open to foreign influence in matters of faith, lived under Persian rule, they imbibed, among many other religious views of their masters, their doctrines of angels and spirits, which, in the region of the Euphrates and Tigris, were most luxuriantly developed" (Leviticus, part II, p. 287). "The belief in spirits and demons was not a concession made by educated men to the prejudices of the masses, but a concession which all--the educated as well as the uneducated--made to Pagan polytheism" (Ibid). Strauss says: "It is in the Maccabean Daniel and in the Apocryphal Tobit that this doctrine of angels, in the most precise form, first appears; and it is evidently a product of the influence of the Zend religion of the Persian on the Jewish mind. We have the testimony of the Jews themselves that they brought the names of the angels with them from Babylon" (Leben Jesu, p. 78). Baptism, communion, and even confirmation, are rites that were performed in Persia a thousand years before the advent of Christ. Dr. Hyde, in his "Religion of the Ancient Persians," says: "They do not use circumcision for their children, but only baptism or washing for the inward purification of the soul.... After such washing, or baptism, the priest imposes on the child the name given by his parents. Afterwards, in the fifteenth year of his age, when he begins to put on the tunic, the sudra, and the girdle, that he may enter upon religion, and is engaged in the articles of belief, the priest bestows upon him confirmation." The following, from the "Britannica," was written by England's leading authority on Zoroaster, Professor Gildner: "Like John the Baptist and the Apostles of Jesus, Zoroaster also believed that the fullness of time was near, that the kingdom of heaven was at hand. Through the whole of the Gathas (the Psalms of Zoroaster) runs the pious hope that the end of the present world is not far off. He himself hopes along with his followers to live to see the decisive turn of things, the dawn of the new and better aeon. Ormuzd will summon together all his powers for a final struggle and break the power of evil forever; by his help the faithful will achieve the victory over their detested enemies, the daeva worshipers, and render them powerless. Thereupon Ormuzd will hold a judicium universale upon all mankind and judge strictly according to justice, punish the wicked, and assign to the good the hoped-for reward. Satan will be cast, along with all those who have been delivered over to him to suffer the pains of hell, into the abyss, where he will thenceforward lie powerless. Forthwith begins the one undivided kingdom of God in heaven and on earth." Substitute "Christ" for "Zoroaster," "God" for "Ormuzd," and "Gospels" for "Gathas," in the above, and we have almost an exact exposition of the teachings of Christ. And Zoroaster taught at least 1200 years before Christ taught, and wrote his "Gathas" more than 1300 years before the Gospels were written. The writings of Zoroaster were the principal source of the most important theological doctrines ascribed to Christ, as the Buddhistic writings were of his ethical teachings. Mithra. This god was the offspring of the Sun, and, next to Ormuzd and Ahrimanes, held the highest rank among the gods of ancient Persia. He was represented as a beautiful youth. He is the Mediator. From the Rev. J. W. Lake I quote the following: "Mithras is spiritual light contending with spiritual darkness, and through his labors the kingdom of darkness shall be lit with heaven's own light; the Eternal will receive all things back into his favor, the world will be redeemed to God. The impure are to be purified, and the evil made good, through the mediation of Mithras, the reconciler of Ormuzd and Ahriman. Mithras is the Good, his name is Love. In relation to the Eternal he is the source of grace, in relation to man he is the life-giver and mediator" (Plato, Philo, and Paul, p. 15). The "International Encyclopedia" says: "Mithras seems to have owed his prominence to the belief that he was the source of life, and could also redeem the souls of the dead into the better world.... The ceremonies included a sort of baptism to remove sins, anointing, and a sacred meal of bread and water, while a consecrated wine, believed to possess wonderful power, played a prominent part." Concerning Mithra "Chambers's Encyclopedia" says: "The most important of his many festivals was his birthday, celebrated on the 25th of December, the day subsequently fixed--against all evidence--as the birthday of Christ. The worship of Mithras early found its way into Rome, and the mysteries of Mithras, which fell in the spring equinox, were famous even among the many Roman festivals. The ceremonies observed in the initiation to these mysteries--symbolical of the struggle between Ahriman and Ormuzd (the Good and the Evil)--were of the most extraordinary and to a certain degree even dangerous character. Baptism and the partaking of a mystical liquid, consisting of flour and water, to be drunk with the utterance of sacred formulas, were among the inauguration acts." In the catacombs at Rome was preserved a relic of the old Mithraic worship. It was a picture of the infant Mithra seated in the lap of his virgin mother, while on their knees before him were Persian Magi adoring him and offering gifts. Prof. Franz Cumont, of the University of Ghent, writes as follows concerning the religion of Mithra and the religion of Christ: "The sectaries of the Persian god, like the Christians', purified themselves by baptism, received by a species of confirmation the power necessary to combat the spirit of evil; and expected from a Lord's supper salvation of body and soul. Like the latter, they also held Sunday sacred, and celebrated the birth of the Sun on the 25th of December.... They both preached a categorical system of ethics, regarded asceticism as meritorious and counted among their principal virtues abstinence and continence, renunciation and self-control. Their conceptions of the world and of the destiny of man were similar. They both admitted the existence of a Heaven inhabited by beatified ones, situate in the upper regions, and of a Hell, peopled by demons, situate in the bowels of the earth. They both placed a flood at the beginning of history; they both assigned as the source of their condition, a primitive revelation; they both, finally, believed in the immortality of the soul, in a last judgment, and in a resurrection of the dead, consequent upon a final conflagration of the universe" (The Mysteries of Mithras, pp. 190, 191). The Rev. Charles Biggs, D.D., says: "The disciples of Mithra formed an organized church, with a developed hierarchy. They possessed the ideas of Mediation, Atonement, and a Savior, who is human and yet divine, and not only the idea, but a doctrine of the future life. They had a Eucharist, and a Baptism, and other curious analogies might be pointed out between their system and the church of Christ" (The Christian Platonists, p. 240). I quote again from McClintock and Strong: "In modern times Christian writers have been induced to look favorably upon the assertion that some of our ecclesiastical usages (e. g., the institution of the Christmas festival) originated in the cultus of Mithraism. Some writers who refuse to accept the Christian religion as of supernatural origin, have even gone so far as to institute a close comparison with the founder of Christianity; and Dupuis and others, going even beyond this, have not hesitated to pronounce the Gospel simply a branch of Mithraism" (Art. Mithra). The Christian Father Manes, founder of the heretical sect known as Manicheans, believed that Christ and Mithra were one. His teaching, according to Mosheim, was as follows: "Christ is that glorious intelligence which the Persians called Mithras.... His residence is in the sun" (Ecclesiastical History, 3rd century, Part 2, ch. 5). The Mithraic worship at one time covered a large portion of the ancient world. It flourished as late as the second century, but finally went down before its young and invincible rival which appropriated, to a great extent, its doctrines, rites and customs. Sosiosh. The Messianic idea, as we have seen, came from Persia. The expected Messiah of the Jews and the Christ of Christians are of Persian origin. Sosiosh, the Messiah of the Persians, is the son of Zoroaster, "begotten in a supernatural way." He constitutes a part of the Persian Trinity. He exists, as yet, only in a spiritual form. His incarnation and advent on earth are yet to be. When he comes he will bring with him a new revelation. He will awaken the dead and preside at the last judgment. Zoroaster, it is claimed, predicted his coming, declaring that he would be born of a virgin, and that a star would indicate the place of his birth. "As soon, therefore," said Zoroaster, "as you shall behold the star, follow it whithersoever it shall lead you and adore that mysterious child, offering your gifts to him with profound humility." "And, lo, the star, which they saw in the east, went before them till it came and stood over where the young child was.... And when they were come into the house, they saw the young child with Mary, his mother, and fell down, and worshiped him; and when they had opened their treasures, they presented unto him gifts" (Matthew ii, 9, 11). Adonis. From Babylonia, including Accadia, Chaldea, and Assyria, much of Christianity has come. Christ himself was descended from the Babylonian pantheon; his father, Jehovah, being originally a Babylonian god. Adonis, Tammouz, Tam-zi, or Du-zi, as he was variously called, was a Babylonian deity whose worship gradually spread over Syria, Phoenicia and Greece. He was one of the most ancient of the sons of gods. His origin may be traced to that fertile, and perhaps earliest, source of gods and religions, Accadia. His worship was a combination of sun worship and sex worship. He was the god of light, and life, and love. Associated with his worship in Babylonia and Syria was the worship of Istar; and in Phoenicia and Greece the worship of Venus. Under the name of Tammouz, Adonis was worshiped by the Jews. At the very gates of the temple, Ezekiel tells us, "There sat women weeping for Tammouz" ("Adonis" in Catholic ver.) (viii, 14). In the Bible he is frequently referred to as "the only son." One of the months of the Hebrew calendar was named in honor of him. The abstaining from the use of pork by the Jews had its origin in the legend of the slaying of Adonis by the wild boar. And the eating of fish on Friday by Christians is doubtless due to the fact that Friday was consecrated to Venus by her Asiatic worshipers and fish was eaten in her honor. In a citation of Babylonian and Biblical analogies, the "Encyclopedia Britannica" says: "The resemblance is still more striking when we examine the Babylonian mythology. The sacred tree of Babylonia, with its guardian cherubs--a word, by the way, which seems of Accadian origin--as well as the flaming sword or thunderbolt of fifty points and seven heads, recall Biblical analogies, while the Noachian deluge differs but slightly from the Chaldean one. Indeed, the Jehovistic version of the flood story in Genesis agrees not only in details, but even in phraseology with that which forms the eleventh lay of the great Babylonian epic. The hero of the latter is Tam-zi or Tammuz, 'the sun of life,' the son of Ubaratutu, 'the glow of sunset,' and denotes the revivifying luminary of day, who sails upon his 'ark' behind the clouds of winter to reappear when the rainy season is past. He is called Sisuthrus by Berosus, that is, Susru 'the founder,' a synonym of Na 'the sky.' The mountain on which his ark rested was placed in Nisir, southwest of Lake Urumiyeh. Its peak, whereon the first altar was built after the deluge, was the legendary model after which the zigurats or towers of the Babylonian temples were erected. Besides the account of the flood, fragments have been met with of stories resembling those of the tower of Babel or Babylon, of the creation, of the fall, and of the sacrifice of Isaac--the latter, by the way, forming the first lay of the great epic. The sixth lay we possess in full. It describes the descent of Istar into Hades in pursuit of her dead husband Du-zi, 'the off-spring,' the Babylonian Adonis. Du-zi is but another form of Tam-zi and denotes the sun when obscured by night and winter." Concerning the two lays of this Babylonian or Assyrian epic which pertain to Adonis, Dr. Soury says: "The two important episodes of this epic hitherto discovered, 'The Deluge,' and 'The Descent of Istar into Hell,' yield the best commentary on the Biblical stories of the deluge and hell (sheol). We have henceforth the epigraphic proof, confirming the valuable testimony of Berosus, that these legends--like those of the creation, of the Tower of Babel, etc.--did not originate in Palestine, but were carried thither by the Hebrews with the civilization and worship of the people of the valley of the Tigris and Euphrates, amid whom they had sojourned for centuries.... The Babylonian deluge is also a chastisement from the deity; it is the consequence of man's corruption (Assyrian poem, line 22). The details of the building of the Babylonian ark (line 24), into which are introduced the various pairs of male and female animals (line 80), of the shutting of the doors of the ark (line 89), of the duration, increase and decrease of the flood (lines 123-129), of the sending out of a dove, a swallow and a raven (lines 140-144), etc., leave no doubt as to the origin of the legend of Genesis" (Religion of Israel, p. 10). The noted Assyriologist, George Smith, of the British Museum, who discovered the tablets containing these fragments of the Babylonian epic, says that the original text of these legends cannot be later than the 17th century B. C., and may be much earlier, thus antedating the oldest books of the Bible nearly 1,000 years. From these and other Babylonian and Persian legends the most of the Old Testament legends were borrowed. This fact disproves the existence of the orthodox Christ. If the accounts of the creation, the fall of man, and the Noachian deluge, as given in the Bible, are not authentic, but merely borrowed fables, then there remains no foundation for an atoning Savior. Describing the worship of Adonis, "Chambers's Encyclopedia" says: "His festivals were partly the expressions of joy, partly of mourning. In the latter the women gave themselves up to the most unmitigated grief over the 'lost Adonis.'... This period was followed by a succession of festive and joyful days, in honor of the resurrection of Adonis." These festivals correspond to the Good Friday and Easter of Christians, commemorating the death and resurrection of Christ. The most ardent worshipers of Adonis were women. No other character, real or imaginary, has so stirred the passions and the emotions of woman as this beautiful young lover of Venus. His tragic death bathed with immortal sadness the hearts of his devotees, and from the remotest ages down to a very late period moved to tears the daughters of men who adored him. Writing of Bethlehem at the close of the fourth century, St. Jerome says: "The lover of Venus is mourned in the grotto where Christ wailed as an infant." Along with the "Holy Sepulchre" of Christ, there still exists the "Tomb of Adonis," where "the women of the ancient mysteries, in the intoxication of a voluptuous grief, came to cover with tears and kisses the cenotaph of the beautiful youth." "Even at the present time," says Renan, "the Syrian hymns sung in honor of the Virgin are a kind of tearful sigh, a strange sob." Moved by the same passions and the same emotions that thrilled the hearts of the female worshipers of Adonis, it is the women of Christendom, who, more than any other cause, keep alive the memory and the religion of Christ. Thus writes a Carmelite nun describing the passionate adoration of her Christian sisters: "One day they have raised their eyes to an adorable face. A horrible diadem of interlaced branches binds the august forehead; rubies of blood roll slowly upon the livid pallor of the cheeks; the mouth has forgotten how to smile. It is a man of sorrows. They have looked upon him and found him more beautiful, more noble, more loyal than any spouse. They have felt a stronger heart-beat in his divine breast; they have understood that death no more dare touch his emaciated figure, and that his conjugal fidelity is eternal. "Captivated, ravished, enamoured, enraptured, they have loved him. Rendered insensible by love, they have trampled cruelly upon the broken hearts of fathers and desolate mothers; they have listened, tearless, to the woeful beseechings of those who desire them for companions; they have followed to Carmel the unique lover, the immortal husband." The ancient adoration of Adonis survives in this modern adoration of Jesus. We see here the same strange commingling of superstition and fanaticism, of love and sorrow, of ecstasy and agony, of chastity and lust. The religion is the same; the worship is the same. The divine lovers only have been changed. The beautiful Pagan has been supplanted by the Ideal Man. Writing of the Protestant women of his day, Thomas Jefferson says: "In our Richmond there is much fanaticism, but chiefly among the women. They have their night meetings and praying parties, where, attended by their priests, ... they pour forth their love to Jesus in terms as amatory and carnal as their modesty would permit to a mere earthly lover" (Jefferson's Works, Vol. IV, p. 358, Randolph's ed.). Osiris. One of the most ancient and one of the most renowned of all the gods was Osiris, the Savior of Egypt. He was the son of Seb (earth) and Nu (heaven). He appears in the hieroglyphics of Egypt as early as 3427 B. C. Two thousand years before Christ his worship was universal in Egypt, and during the succeeding centuries spread over much of Asia and Europe, including Greece and Rome. Its priests looked confidently forward to the time when all men would be brought to Osiris, just as Christian priests today look forward to the time when all men will be brought to Christ. Osiris was slain by Typhon (Satan), but rose again and became the ruler of the dead. He presides at the judgment of the departed where the good are rewarded with everlasting life, and the wicked are destroyed. The Osirian Bible is called the "Book of the Dead." Christians are indebted to this religion largely for their views concerning immortality and a bodily resurrection. They believe that through the death and resurrection of Christ they have inherited eternal life, that when their earthly career is ended they will live again in him. Regarding the Egyptians' belief, the "International Encyclopedia" says: "Just as Osiris died and lived again, so the spiritual personality of the deceased lived again and was merged in Osiris." Of Osiris the Rev. Dr. Charles Gillett, of Union Theological Seminary, says: "The belief in him and in the immortality which he symbolized was the deepest in Egyptian religious thought." Sir John Gardner Wilkinson, one of the most eminent Egyptologists, says: "The peculiar character of Osiris, his coming upon earth for the benefit of mankind, with the titles of 'Manifester of Good' and 'Revealer of Truth'; his being put to death by the malice of the Evil One; his burial and resurrection, and his becoming the judge of the dead, are the most interesting features of the Egyptian religion." John Stuart Glennie, another English writer, notes the following analogies between the religion of Osiris and the religion of Christ: "In ancient Osirianism, as in modern Christianism, we find the worship of a divine mother and child. In ancient Osirianism as in modern Christianism, there is a doctrine of atonement. In ancient Osirianism, as in modern Christianism, we find the vision of a last judgment, and resurrection of the body. And finally, in ancient Osirianism, as in modern Christianism, the sanctions of morality are a lake of fire and torturing demons on the one hand, and on the other, eternal life in the presence of God" (Christ and Osiris, p. 14). Referring to Osiris, McClintock and Strong's "Cyclopedia" says: "He was regarded as the personification of moral good. He is related to have been on earth instructing mankind in useful arts; to have been slain by his adversary Typhon by whom he was cut in pieces; to have been bewailed by his wife and sister Isis; to have been embalmed; to have risen again, and to have become the judge of the dead, among whom the righteous were called by his name and received his form--a wonderful fore-feeling of the Gospel narrative" (Art. Egypt). Isis, the sister and wife of Osiris, was the greatest of female divinities. Her worship was coexistent and coextensive with that of her divine brother and husband. We have the following picture of her in the Apocalypse: "And there appeared a great wonder in heaven; a woman clothed with the sun, and the moon under her feet, and upon her head a crown of twelve stars" (Revelation xii, 1). The worship of Isis existed in Rome and Alexandria during the formative period of Christianity and Christians borrowed much from it. Horus. This popular Egyptian god was the son of Osiris and Isis. Osiris and Horus were both solar deities; Osiris was the setting sun, Horus the rising sun. Christ, it is claimed, existed before his incarnation; and Horus, it was claimed, existed even before the incarnation of his father. Christ when an infant was carried into Egypt to escape the wrath of Herod; Horus when an infant was carried out of Egypt to escape the wrath of Typhon. To avenge the death of his father he afterward vanquished Typhon. He was the last of the gods who reigned in Egypt. Festivals and movable feasts similar to those celebrated in honor of Christ were held in his honor. In India and Egypt, ages before the appearance of Christianity, the doctrine of the Trinity prevailed. Brahma, Vishnu, and Siva constituted the principal trinity of India, while the most important Trinity of Egypt was Osiris, Isis, and Horus. Even the Christian doctrine of a Trinity in Unity, an absurdity which Christianity alone is supposed to have taught, was an Egyptian doctrine. Samuel Sharp, in his "Egyptian Mythology" (p. 14), says: "We have a hieroglyphical inscription in the British Museum as early as the reign of Sevechus of the eighth century before the Christian era, showing that the doctrine of Trinity in Unity already formed part of their religion and that * * * the three gods only made one person." Dr. Draper says: "For thirty centuries the Egyptians had been familiar with the conception of a triune God. There was hardly a city of any note without its particular triads. Here it was Amum, Maut, and Khonso; there Osiris, Isis, and Horus" (Intellectual Development, Vol. I, p. 191). Dr. Inman affirms the Egyptian origin of the Christian trinity: "The Christian trinity is of Egyptian origin, and is as surely a Pagan doctrine as the belief in heaven and hell, the existence of a devil, of archangels, angels, spirits and saints, martyrs and virgins, intercessors in heaven, gods and demigods, and other forms of faith which deface the greater part of modern religions" (Ancient Pagan and Modern Christian Symbolism, p. 13). There are two myths connected with Horus analogous to stories found in the Old Testament, and which were old when these stories were written. The hiding of Horus in a marsh by his mother undoubtedly suggested the myth of the hiding of Moses in a marsh by his mother. When Horus died Isis implored Ra, the sun, to restore him to life. Ra stopped his ship in mid-heaven and sent down Thoth, the moon, to bring him back to life. The stopping of the sun and moon by Isis recalls the myth of the stopping of the sun and moon by Joshua. The deification and worship of the Virgin had its origin in the worship of Isis, and the adoration of the Virgin and Child is but the adoration of Isis and Horus transferred to Mary and Jesus. Describing the Paganization of Christianity Dr. Draper says: "Views of the Trinity, in accordance with Egyptian tradition, were established. Not only was the adoration of Isis under a new name restored, but even her image standing on the crescent moon reappeared. The well-known effigy of that goddess, with the infant Horus in her arms, has descended to our days in the beautiful artistic creations of the Madonna and Child" (Conflict, p. 48). That the Virgin Mary of the Roman Catholic church was borrowed from Egypt is shown by the fact that in the earlier representations of her, she was, like Isis, veiled. Concerning this Draper, in his "Intellectual Development" (Vol. I, p. 361), says: "Of the Virgin Mary, destined in later times to furnish so many beautiful types of female loveliness, the earliest representations are veiled. The Egyptian sculptors had thus depicted Isis; the first form of the Virgin and Child was the counterpart of Isis and Horus." Dr. G. W. Brown, author of "Researches in Oriental History," writes: "Mural illustrations of this mother and child are not confined to Egypt, but are scattered all over Asia Minor, and are numerous in Italy, while many temples and shrines are yet found which were erected to their memory. Matthew ii, 15, claims to be a quotation from one of the prophets: 'Out of Egypt have I called my son.'" Writing of the ancient Gnostics, C. W. King, a noted English author, says: "To this period belongs a beautiful sard in my collection, representing Serapis, * * * whilst before him stands Isis, holding in one hand the sistrum, in the other a wheatsheaf, with the legend: 'Immaculate is our lady Isis,' the very term applied afterwards to that personage who succeeded to her form, her symbols, rites, and ceremonies" (Gnostics and Their Remains, p. 71). Regarding the transference of the attributes of Isis to Mary, Newton, in his "Assyrian Grove and Other Emblems," says: "When Mary, the mother of Jesus, took the place in Christendom of 'the great goddess,' the dogmas which propounded her immaculate conception and perpetual virginity followed as a matter of course." "The 'Black Virgins,'" says King, "so highly reverenced in certain French cathedrals during the middle ages, proved, when critically examined, basalt figures of Isis." Mrs. Besant believes that Christianity was derived chiefly from Egypt: "It grew out of Egypt; its gospels came from thence [Alexandria]; its ceremonies were learned there; its Virgin is Isis; its Christ Osiris and Horus." Of the antiquity of Egypt's religion, and the mutability of the gods, that brilliant young Englishman, Winwood Reade, thus writes: "Buried cities are beneath our feet; the ground on which we tread is the pavement of a tomb. See the pyramids towering to the sky, with men, like insects, crawling round their base; and the Sphinx, couched in vast repose, with a ruined temple between its paws. Since those great monuments were raised the very heavens have been changed. When the architects of Egypt began their work, there was another polar star in the northern sky, and the southern cross shone upon the Baltic shores. How glorious are the memories of those ancient men, whose names are forgotten, for they lived and labored in the distant and unwritten past. Too great to be known, they sit on the height of centuries and look down on fame. * * * The men are dead, and the gods are dead. Naught but their memories remain. Where now is Osiris, who came down upon earth out of love for man, who was killed by the malice of the evil one, who rose again from the grave and became the judge of the dead? Where now is Isis the mother, with the child Horus in her lap? They are dead; they are gone to the land of the shades. To-morrow, Jehovah, you and your son shall be with them." Zeus. Zeus, Jove, or Jupiter, as he is variously called, was the greatest of the sons of gods and held the highest place in the pantheons of Greece and Rome. He was the son of the god Kronos and the goddess Rhea. The gods of Greece, while mostly pure myths, were yet intensely human. In these gods human vices sank to the lowest depths and human virtues rose to the loftiest heights. Zeus was one of the most puerile, one of the most sublime, one of the most depraved and one of the most beneficent of deities. In the words of Andrew Lang, "He is the sum of the religious thought of Hellas, found in the numberless ages between savagery and complete civilization." Zeus, like Christ, assumed the form of man. The life of the infant Pagan deity, like that of the infant Christian deity, was imperiled. Kronos tried to destroy him, but he was secreted in a cave and saved. There was a widely accepted tradition among primitive Christians, before the myth of the shepherd's manger gained credence, that Christ was cradled in a cave. Concerning these myths, Strauss says: "The myths of the ancient world more generally ascribed divine apparitions to countrymen and shepherds; the sons of the gods, and of great men were frequently brought up among shepherds. In the same spirit of the ancient legend is the apocryphal invention that Jesus was born in a cave, and we are at once reminded of the cave of Jupiter (Zeus) and the other gods" (Leben Jesu, p. 154). This god, like Jehovah, became the ruler of heaven and earth. Like Jehovah he became dissatisfied with the human race, and with the aid of Pandora, who brought death into the world, tried to destroy it that he might create a new race. Seneca refers to Zeus as "the guardian and ruler of the universe, the soul and spirit, the lord and master of this mundane sphere * * * from whom all things proceed, by whose spirit we live." Lecky says: "The language in which the first Greek dramatists asserted the supreme authority and universal providence of Zeus was so emphatic that the Christian fathers commonly attributed it either to direct inspiration or to a knowledge of the Jewish writings" (European Morals, Vol. I, p. 161). One of the daughters of Zeus was Persephone, Life. Her mother was Demeter, the Earth. Hades seized Persephone and carried her to his regions in the lower world where she became his wife. Then Earth became disconsolate and could not be consoled. To assuage the grief of the sorrowing mother Hades agreed to give her back to Earth for half the year. While Life dwells with her mother, Earth, we have summer, and flowers, and fruits, and joy. When Life returns to her husband, Hades, winter and desolation return to Earth. Of this goddess Ridpath says: "Persephone is close to Eve. Eve means Life, and should have been so rendered, and would have been but for the blundering of the English translators" (History of the World, Vol. II, p. 501). The realm of Hades was called by his name. The term was borrowed by the writers of the New Testament but has been translated "hell." Christians took possession of Hades' kingdom; but Hades was dethroned to make room for the Oriental Satan, and the sad yet peaceful abode of departed spirits was transformed into a lake of fire, the habitation of the damned. The inhabitants of Crete, who believed in the incarnation and death of Zeus, guarded for centuries with zealous care what they alleged to be the tomb of their god. Apollo. This god, one of the principal solar deities, was the son of Zeus. His mother was Leto. Like Mary, Leto had no hospitable place for her accouchement, and brought her child forth on the barren isle of Delos, where female divinities ministered to them. The isle was illuminated by a flood of light, the prototype of a later scene where "the glory of the Lord shone round about" the shepherds in the field at Bethlehem; while sacred swans, like the celestial visitants of Luke, made joyous gyrations in the air above them. Apollo was the best beloved god of Greece, and was represented as one of the most perfect types of manly beauty. Like Christ he led on earth a lowly life, following for a time the humble avocation of a herdsman. Like Christ he came to reveal the will of his father. He chose for his disciples a crew of sailors or fishermen. These, like the disciples of Christ, were endowed with miraculous powers. Apollo was regarded as a savior. He rescued the people from the deadly python, which was desolating the land. Numerous festivals, similar to those held in honor of Christ, were held in honor of Apollo. In its article on this god McClintock and Strong's "Cyclopedia" says: "Towards the later period of the supremacy of paganism in the Roman Empire, Apollo, as the deity of the sun, had assumed the chief place in heathen worship. As indicating that Christ was the true 'light of the world,' the 'Sun of righteousness'--the most favorite figure used in speaking of the Savior in the early centuries--this very figure of Apollo was often introduced as indicating Christ." Leto, the mother of Apollo, was believed to be, like Mary, the mother of Christ, a mortal raised to divinity. Her worship, like that of Mary, was widespread and lasted for centuries. Perseus. The Virgin myth, the Holy Ghost myth, and the Herodian myth all have their prototypes in Perseus. Long before his birth it was prophesied that he would be born of the virgin Danae, and that he would supplant Acrisius in his kingdom. To prevent this Acrisius confined Danae in a tower. Here she was overshadowed by Zeus in "a shower of gold," and Perseus was born. To destroy him Acrisius placed him with his mother in a chest and cast them into the sea. They drifted to an island and the child was saved. He grew to manhood, performed many wonderful works, vanquished his enemy and ascended the throne. Hercules. This god was the son of Zeus and the virgin Alcmeni. His mother, like the mother of Jesus, retained her virginity after the birth of her child. The Greek babe, like the Jewish babe, had an enemy. Hera attempted to destroy the former, just as Herod afterward attempted to destroy the latter. Like Christ he died a death of agony. When his labors were finished, he closed his earthly career by mounting a funeral pyre from which, surrounded by a dark cloud, amid thunder and lightning, he ascended to heaven. The Tyrian Hercules was worshiped by the Jews, and Jason, the Jewish high-priest, sent a religious embassy with an offering of 300 drachms of silver to this god. Prof. Meinhold, of the University of Bonn, says: "The transfiguration and ascension of Christ may be compared to the heathen apotheosis of such heroes as Hercules, while the story of the descent into Hades is modeled after such narratives as those describing the visit of Hercules and Theseus to the lower world." Max Muller pronounces Hercules a solar god. His twelve labors, like the twelve apostles of Christ, correspond to the twelve signs of the Zodiac. Christians have admitted the resemblance of this god to Christ. Parkhurst's "Hebrew Lexicon" says: "The labors of Hercules seem to have had a still higher view and to have been originally designed as emblematical memorials of what the real son of God and savior of the world was to do and suffer for our sakes." The Rev. Heinrich Rower says: "We are all acquainted with the fact that in their mythological legends the Greeks and the Romans and other nations of antiquity speak of certain persons as the sons of the gods. An example of this is Hercules, the Greek hero, who is the son of Jupiter, and an earthly mother. * * * All those men who performed greater deeds than those which human beings usually do are regarded by antiquity as of divine origin. This Greek and heathen notion has been applied to the New Testament and churchly conception of the person of Jesus. We must remember that at the time when Christianity sprang into evidence, Greek culture and Greek religion spread over the whole world. It is accordingly nothing remarkable that the Christians took from the heathens the highest religious conceptions that they possessed, and transferred them to Jesus. They accordingly called him the son of God, and declared that he had been supernaturally born of a virgin. This is the Greek and heathen influence which has determined the character of the account given by Matthew and Luke concerning the birth of Jesus." Dionysos. Zagreus was the son of Zeus. He was slain by the Titans, buried at the foot of Mount Parnassus, and rose from the dead as Dionysos. He was the god of fruit and wine. Like those of Christ his most devoted followers were women. He is the beloved son and occupies a throne at the right hand of his father, Zeus. His empty tomb at Delphi was long preserved by his devotees as proof of his death and resurrection. The stories of the resurrection of Adonis in Phoenicia, of Osiris in Egypt and of Dionysos in Greece were old when Christ was born, and paved the way for the origin and acceptance of the story of his resurrection. Justin Martyr recognized the analogies between Christianity and Paganism. Addressing the Pagans, he writes: "When we say that the Word, who is the first born of God, was produced without sexual union, and that he, Jesus Christ, our teacher, was crucified and died, and rose again, and ascended into heaven; we propound nothing different from what you believe regarding those whom you esteem sons of Jupiter (Zeus)" (First Apology, ch. xxi). Festivals, called Lenaea and the Greater Dionysia, corresponding in a measure to the Christmas and Easter of Christians, were celebrated in honor of this god. Prof. Gulick, professor of Greek in Harvard University, describing these festivals, says: "In the winter came various celebrations in honor of Dionysos, god of nature and the vine, the object of which was to wake the sleeping spirit of generation and render him propitious for the coming of spring and the sowing of crops * * * The wine-casks were opened, and all, even slaves, were allowed perfect holiday and liberty to drink in honor of the god. The last day of the festival was a sort of All Souls' Day, being devoted to the gods of the underworld and the spirits of the dead" (Life of the Ancient Greeks, pp. 274, 275). "The Great Dionysia," says Prof. Gulick, "held in the spring, was the occasion of display and magnificence" (Ibid, p. 113). So-called Christian burial is identical with Greek burial. Ancient Greek sepulture is thus described by Ridpath: "To the dead were due the sacred rites of sepulture * * * When a Greek fell into his last slumber, the friends immediately composed the body * * * The corse was clad in white and laid upon a bier. Flowers were brought by the mourning friends, who put on badges of sorrow * * * Cemeteries were arranged outside the city walls * * * Over each [grave] was raised a mound of earth, and on this were planted ivy and roses. * * * Over the grave was erected a memorial stone or monument, and on this was an inscription giving the name of the dead, an effigy perhaps of his person, a word of praise for his virtues, and an epigram composed for his memory" (History of the Word, Vol. II, p. 497). Prometheus. The Titan god, Prometheus, was the son of Iapetus and Asia. He is one of the most sublime creations of the human imagination. When Zeus, like Jehovah, became enraged at mankind and sought to destroy it, Prometheus, like Christ, came on earth to intercede and suffer for the race. Hurled to Tartarus by the thunderbolts of Zeus he came again to endure, if need be, eternal agony for man. For centuries Greeks and Romans believed the story of this vicarious god to be historical. Grote, the historian, says: "So long and so firmly did this belief continue, that the Roman general Pompey, when in command of an army in Kolchis, made with his companion, the literary Greek Theophanes, a special march to view the spot in Caucasus where Prometheus had been transfixed" (Greek Mythology, pp. 92, 93). Referring to the Greeks and their great tragedy, "Prometheus Bound," A. L. Rawson says: "Its hero was their friend, benefactor, creator, and savior, whose wrongs were incurred in their behalf, and whose sorrows were endured for their salvation. He was wounded for their transgressions, and bruised for their iniquities; the chastisement of their peace was upon him, and by his stripes they were healed" (Isaiah liii, 5), (Evolution of Israel's God, p. 30). Alluding to this subject, Dr. Westbrook writes: "The New Testament description of the crucifixion and the attending circumstances, even to the earthquake and darkness, was thus anticipated by five centuries" (Bible: Whence and What?). The dying Christ shares with the dying Prometheus the sympathies of men. But how trivial the crucifixion, how light the suffering, and how weak the courage of the Christian god appear compared with the cruel crucifixion, the infinite suffering, and the deathless courage of the immortal Pagan! Transfixed to the rock on Caucasus, the Golgotha of Greek mythology, with the devouring eagle feeding forever on his vitals, there falls from his lips no murmur of pain, no Sabachthani of despair. What lofty heroism, what enduring patience, what unselfish love, this tragic story has inspired! "To suffer woes which hope thinks infinite; To forgive wrongs darker than death or night; To defy power which seems omnipotent; To love and bear; to hope till hope creates From its own wreck the thing it contemplates; Neither to change, to falter, nor repent; This, like thy glory, Titan, is to be Good, great, and joyous, beautiful and free." --Shelley. Esculapius. Esculapius was the illegitimate son of the nymph Coronis, by Apollo. The mother, at the instigation of Apollo, was slain by Diana; but the child was spared. He became noted for his wonderful curative powers. He healed all diseases, and even restored the dead to life. He was called "The Good Physician." He was struck by a thunderbolt and ascended to heaven. The Greeks worshiped him. The miraculous cures ascribed to Christ, many of them, doubtless, had their origin in the legends of Esculapius. Justin Martyr says: "In that we say he [Christ] made whole the lame, the paralytic, and those born blind, we seem to say what is very similar to the deeds said to have been done by Esculapius" (First Apology, ch. xxi). Plato. One of the most gifted of mortals was Plato. His followers believed him to be of divine descent. Concerning his parentage, Dr. Draper says: "Antiquity has often delighted to cast a halo of mythical glory around its illustrious names. The immortal works of this great philosopher seemed to entitle him to more than mortal honors. A legend into the authenticity of which we will abstain from inquiring, asserted that his mother, Perictione, a pure virgin, suffered an immaculate conception through the influence of Apollo. The god declared to Ariston, to whom she was about to be married, the parentage of the child" (Intellectual Development, Vol. I, p. 151). Concerning this myth, McClintock and Strong's "Cyclopedia" says: "Legend, which is traced back to Spensipus, the nephew of Plato, ascribed the paternity of Plato to the god Apollo; and, in the form in which the story is told by Olympiodorus, closely imitates the record in regard to the nativity of Christ" (Art. Plato). Immaculate conceptions were common in Greece. "The furtive pregnancy of young women, often by a god," says Grote, "is one of the most frequently recurring incidents in the legendary narratives of the country." The Christian story of the miraculous conception has not even the merit of originality. With the Platonic legend before him, all that the Evangelist had to do was to substitute Jehovah for Apollo, Joseph for Ariston, Mary for Perictione, and Jesus for Plato. The philosophy of Plato is a strange compound of profound wisdom concerning the known and of vague speculations respecting the unknown. The latter form no inconsiderable portion of the religion ascribed to Christ. The Christian religion is supposed to be of Semitic origin; but its doctrines are, many of them, the work of Greek theologians; its incarnate God bears a Greek name, and its early literature was mostly Greek. Draper recognizes three primitive modifications of Christianity: 1. Judaic Christianity; 2. Gnostic Christianity; 3. Platonic Christianity. Platonic Christianity, he says, endured and is essentially the Christianity of to-day. The following are some of the principles of Plato's philosophy: There is but one God, and we ought to love and serve him. The Word formed the world and rendered it visible. A knowledge of the Word will make us happy. The soul is immortal, and the dead will rise again. There will be a final judgment; the righteous will be rewarded, and the wicked punished. The design argument, the chief argument relied upon by Christians to prove the divine origin of the universe, is a Platonic argument. In a letter to the author twenty-five years ago, James Parton wrote: "Read carefully over the dialogue, Phaedo. You will see what you will see: the whole Christian system and the entire dream of the contemplative monk." Phaedo deals chiefly with the soul--its nature and destiny. The following quotations are from the translation of Henry Cary, M.A., of Oxford: Death is defined by Plato as "the separation of the soul from the body." "Can the soul, which is invisible, and which goes to another place like itself, excellent, pure, and invisible, and therefore truly called the invisible world, to the presence of a good and wise God, (whither if God will, my soul also must shortly go), can this soul of ours, I ask, being such and of such a nature, when separated from the body, be immediately dispersed and destroyed, as most men assert? Far from it." "If that which is immortal is imperishable, it is impossible for the soul to perish, when death approaches it." "When, therefore, death approaches a man, the mortal part of him, as it appears, dies, but the immortal part departs safe and uncorrupted, having withdrawn itself from death." After death, Plato says, the souls are conducted to a place where they "receive sentence and then proceed to Hades." If the soul "arrives at the place where the others are, impure, ... every one shuns it, and will neither be its fellow traveler or guide, but it wanders about oppressed with every kind of helplessness.... But the soul which has passed through life with purity and moderation, having obtained the gods for its fellow travelers and guides, settles each in the place suited to it." "If the soul is immortal, it requires our care not only for the present time, which we call life, but for all time; and the danger would now appear to be dreadful, if one should neglect it. For if death were a deliverance from everything, it would be a great gain for the wicked, when they die, to be delivered at the same time from the body, and from their vices together with the soul; but now, since it appears to be immortal, it can have no other refuge from evils, nor safety, except by becoming as good and wise as possible." Christ, it is claimed, "brought immortality to light." Yet Phaedo was written nearly four centuries before Christ came. McClintock and Strong's "Cyclopedia" concedes Plato's "near approximation to the doctrines of Christianity--some of which," it says, "he announces almost in the language of the Apostles." Continuing, this authority says: "We know no more terrible and sublime picture than the passage in which he depicts the dead presenting themselves for judgment in the other world, scarred and blotched and branded with the ineradicable marks of their earthly sins. Yet this is but one of many analogous passages. This approximation to revealed truth is among the most insoluble problems bequeathed to us by antiquity.... We offer no solution of the enigma, which awaits its Oedipus. We only note the existence of the riddle" (Plato). Prof. Gunkel, of Berlin, says: "'Christianity is a syncretistic religion. It is providential that it passed safely over from the Orient into the Greek world. It imbibed both influences, and acquired many features that were foreign to the original gospel.'" Pythagoras. This religio-philosophical teacher lived in the sixth century B. C., the century in which flourished Buddha, Laou-tsze, and Confucius, three of the world's greatest religious founders. Greece was his native, and Italy his adopted, country. His history is largely obscured by myths. He was claimed to be, like Plato, the son of Apollo. He was said to have performed miracles and to have been endowed with the gift of prophecy. He traveled in Egypt and India, and his system contains some elements of the Egyptian and Buddhist religions. There was a small Jewish sect, known as the Essenes, which adopted to a large extent the teachings of Pythagoras. Jesus is believed to have belonged to this sect. There is an Essene element in the New Testament which is especially prominent in the teachings ascribed to Christ. Josephus, in his "Wars of the Jews," describes at length the doctrines and customs of this sect. From Josephus and the New Testament I cite a few of the parallels between the religion of the Essenes and the religion of Christ. "These men are despisers of "A rich man shall hardly enter into riches" (Wars, B. II, ch. viii, the kingdom of heaven" (Matt. xix, sec. 3). 23). "It is a law among them, that "Neither said any of them that those who come to them must let aught of the things which he what they have be common to the possessed was his own; but they had whole order" (Ibid). all things common" (Acts iv, 32). "They carry nothing at all with "Provide neither gold, nor silver, them when they travel into remote nor brass in your purses, nor scrip parts" (Sec. 4). for your journey" (Matt. x, 9, 10). "Every one of them gives what he "Give to him that asketh thee" hath to him that wanteth it" (Matt. v, 42.) (Ib). "And he took bread, and gave "A priest says grace before meat" thanks" (Luke xxii, 19). (Sec. 5). "Blessed are the peace-makers" "They ... are the ministers of (Matt. v, 9). peace" (Sec. 6). "But I say unto you, Swear not at "Whatsoever they say also is all; ... but let your communication firmer than an oath; but swearing be, yea, yea; nay, nay" (Matt. v, is avoided by them" (Sec. 6). 34, 37). Closely allied to the Essenes and the primitive Christians is another Pythagorian sect, known as the Therapeuts of Egypt. Regarding this sect, four different theories are held: 1. That they were a Jewish sect. 2. That they were a Jewish Christian sect. 3. That they were Pagans, many of whose teachings were incorporated into the Christian creed. 4. That they are a myth, that the "De Vita Contemplativa" of Philo, which contains the only account of them, is a Christian forgery, written for the purpose of extolling the monastic life, the celibacy, and the asceticism of the church. Bacchus. Bacchus was a Roman god, or rather a Roman modification of the Greek god, Dionysos. He was the god of wine. He cultivated the vine, made wine, and encouraged its use. His worship extended over nearly the whole of the ancient world. It consisted largely of protracted festivals, where wine flowed freely, and joyous and noisy ceremonies were indulged in. This god and his worship have survived in Christ and Christianity. Christ was called a "winebibber" (Luke vii, 34); he made wine--his first miracle was the conversion of water into wine (John ii, 1-10); he blessed the winecup, and commanded his disciples to drink in remembrance of him (Luke xxii, 17), just as the devotees of Bacchus drank in remembrance of their god. Christianity, more than all other religions combined, has contributed to keep alive the Bacchanalian feasts and revelries. "Bacchus," says Volney, "in the history of his whole life, and even of his death, brings to mind the history of the god of Christians" (Ruins, p. 169). The cabalistic names of Bacchus and Jesus, Volney says, were the same. United with the worship of Bacchus, and similar to it, was the worship of the goddess Ceres (Demeter). Her rites were known as the Eleusinian mysteries. Cakes were eaten in her honor. And thus in the bread of Ceres and the wine of Bacchus we have the bread and wine of the Christian Eucharist. "It is well known," says Dr. Westbrook, "that the Athenians celebrated the allegorical giving of the flesh to eat of Ceres, the goddess of corn, and in like manner the giving his blood to drink by Bacchus, the god of wine." This worship, like the Mithraic worship, which also included the communion, had its origin in the East, and was one of the first, as well as one of the last, of the religions of ancient Greece and Rome. Another rite connected with the mysteries was the use of holy water. Lempriere, in his "Classical Dictionary," describing the Eleusinian mysteries as they existed in Greece centuries before the Christian era, says: "As the candidates for initiation entered the temple, they purified themselves by washing their hands in holy water." The mysteries comprehended the origin of life, and nature worship was included in the ceremonies. At the festivals women carried the phallus in their processions. Regarding the worship of Bacchus and Ceres at Rome, "Chambers' Encyclopedia" says: "These rites degenerated, and came to be celebrated with a licentiousness that threatened the destruction of morality and of society itself. They were made the occasion of the most unnatural excesses. At first, only women took part in these mysterious Bacchic rites, but latterly men also were admitted." The Roman government suppressed the later Bacchanalian and Eleusinian feasts, together with the Christian Agapae, because of their debaucheries, obscenities, and supposed infant sacrifices. Meredith, in "The Prophet of Nazareth" (pp. 225-231), institutes an examination to ascertain "how far the Eleusinian and Bacchanalian feasts resembled the Christian Agapae." His conclusion is that the facts "show clearly that the Christian Agapae were of pagan origin--were identically the same as the pagan feasts." Gibbon says: "The language of that great historian [Tacitus, in his allusion to Christians] is almost similar to the style employed by Livy, when he relates the introduction and the suppression of the rites of Bacchus" (Rome, vol. 1, P. 579). Referring to the Agapae, Dr. Cave says it was commonly charged that Christians "exercised lust and filthiness under a pretense of religion, promiscuously calling themselves brothers and sisters, that by the help of so sacred a name their common adulteries might become incestuous" (Primitive Christianity, Part II, chap. v). Describing the Carpocratians, an early Christian sect, Dr. Cave says: "Both men and women used to meet at supper (which was called their love-feast), when after they had loaded themselves with a plentiful meal, to prevent all shame, if they had any remaining, they put out the lights, and then promiscuously mixed in filthiness with one another" (Ibid). The "International Cyclopedia" says: "With the increase of wealth and the decay of religious earnestness and purity in the Christian church, the Agapae became occasions of great riotousness and debaucheries." The Agapae, with their excesses eliminated, survive in the love-feasts of modern Christians. Webster defines "love-feast" as "a religious festival, held quarterly by the Methodists, in imitation of the Agapae of the early Christians." That these mysteries of Bacchus and Ceres were adopted by the early Christians is largely admitted by the great church historian himself. Writing of the second century, Mosheim says: "The profound respect paid to the Greek and Roman mysteries, and the extraordinary sanctity that was attributed to them, was a further circumstance that induced the Christians to give their religion a mystic air, in order to put it upon an equal foot, in point of dignity, with that of the Pagans. For this purpose they gave the name of 'mysteries' to the institutions of the gospel, and decorated particularly the holy Sacrament with that solemn title. They used in that sacred institution, as also in that of baptism, several of the terms employed in the heathen mysteries and proceeded so far at length as even to adopt some of the rites and ceremonies of which these renowned mysteries consisted." (Ecclesiastical History, p. 56.) England's highest authority on early Christian history, Dean Milman, says: "Christianity disdained that its God and its Redeemer should be less magnificently honored than the demons (gods) of Paganism. In the service it delighted to breathe, as it were, a sublimer sense into the common appellations of the Pagan worship, whether from the ordinary ceremonial or the more secret mysteries. The church became a temple; the table of the communion an altar; the celebration of the Eucharist, the appalling, or unbloody sacrifice.... The incense, the garlands, the lamps, all were gradually adopted by zealous rivalry, or seized as the lawful spoils of vanquished Paganism and consecrated to the service of Christ. "The church rivaled the old heathen mysteries in expanding by slow degrees its higher privileges.... Its preparatory ceremonial of abstinence, personal purity, ablution, secrecy, closely resembled that of the Pagan mysteries (perhaps each may have contributed to the other)" (History of Christianity, Vol. III, pp. 312, 313). Smith's "Dictionary of Antiquities" says: "The mysteries occupied a place among the ancients analogous to that of the holy sacraments in the Christian church." The "Encyclopedia Britannica" makes the same statement. James Anthony Froude, in a letter to Prof. Johnson, of England, says: "I have long been convinced that the Christian Eucharist is but a continuation of the Eleusinian mysteries. St. Paul, in using the word teleiois, almost confirms this." Saturn. One of the oldest and most renowned of the European gods was Saturn, whose name was given by the ancients to one of the planets and to one of the days of the week. He was worshiped by the inhabitants of Italy more than a thousand years before Christ came, and centuries before Rome took her place among the nations of the earth. His temples were located in various parts of Italy, the latest and the principal one being at Rome. His chief festival, and the greatest of all the Roman festivals, was the Saturnalia celebrated at the time of the winter solstice. This festival survives in the Christian festival of Christmas. The following description of the Saturnalia is from the pen of Ridpath: "The most elaborate of all the celebrations of Rome was that of Saturn, held at the winter solstice, and afterwards extended so as to include the twenty-fifth of December.... The festival was called the Saturnalia. Labor ceased, public business was at an end, the courts were closed, the schools had holiday. Tables, laden with bounties, were spread on every hand, and at these all classes for the nonce sat down together. The master and the slave for the day were equals. It was a time of gift-giving and innocent abandonment. In the public shops every variety of the present, from the simplest to the most costly, could be found. Fathers, mothers, kinspeople, friends, all hurried thither to purchase, according to their fancy, what things soever seemed most tasteful and appropriate as presents" (History of the World, Vol. III, p. 97). Concerning this festival the "Encyclopedia Britannica" says: "All classes exchanged gifts, the commonest being wax tapers and clay dolls. These dolls were especially given to children, and the makers of them held a regular fair at this time." One of the principal rites, the "Britannica" says, was the burning of many candles. "The modern Italian carnival," says "Chambers' Encyclopedia," "would seem to be only the old pagan Saturnalia baptized into Christianity." Quirinus. Nearly every reader is familiar with the story of the founding of Rome. Rhea Silvia, a vestal virgin, bears twins by the god Mars. As they are heirs to the throne which Amulius has usurped, he attempts to destroy them by drowning. They are miraculously preserved and finally rescued by a shepherd. One of them, Romulus, becomes the founder and king of Rome. After a reign of 37 years he is translated by his father, and eventually becomes the tutelary god of the Romans, under the name of Quirinus. The following account of his translation is from "Chambers' Encyclopedia": "While he was standing near the 'Goat's Pool' in the Campus Martius, reviewing his militia, the sun was eclipsed, and a dark storm swept over the plain and hills. When it had passed, the people looked round for their king, but he was gone. His father, Mars, had carried him up to heaven (like the prophet Elijah) in a chariot of fire. Some time after he reappeared in a glorified form to Proculus Julius, announced the future greatness of the Roman people, and told him that henceforth he would watch over them as their guardian god, under the name of Quirinus" (Art. Romulus). Next to the Saturnalia, the most important religious festival of Pagan Rome was the Quirinalia, which celebrated the ascension of Quirinus. It corresponds to Ascension Day, one of the principal religious festivals of the Christian church, which celebrates the ascension of Christ. The supernatural darkness of the Roman myth, it is believed, suggested the supernatural darkness of the crucifixion myth. The reappearance of Quirinus in a glorified form is also believed by some to have suggested the transfiguration. Odin. Odin, the All-Father, held the highest rank in the Northern pantheon. He was the son of Boer and Bestla. Freya was his queen. His religion prevailed among the Scandinavians and among the Goths, the Saxons, and other ancient German tribes. Some believe that he was an ancient hero who with a horde of Goths or Scythians conquered the North a thousand years or more before the Christian era. The prevailing opinion, however, is that the Norse mythology had its birth in Asia--in India, Persia, or Accadia--and was carried by the Aryans to northern Europe, where it underwent many modifications. This mythology recognized as existing in the beginning, two worlds--one the warm South, the other the icy North. The entrance to the Southland was guarded by a flaming sword. Between heat and cold, as between good and evil, there was perpetual strife. From heat Ymir (Chaos), the father of giants, was evolved. Odin and his brothers slew Ymir and from his body created the earth, his flesh forming the land, his blood the sea. Out of two trees Odin made man and woman, and breathed into them the breath of life. For the abode of man a fruitful garden was planted in the center of the earth and called Midgard. Beneath the earth dwells Hel, the goddess of the dead. Loki is the god of evil. He will be chained for a time and then released. A bloody war will follow. On one side, led by Loki, will fight the hosts of Hel; on the other Odin and his followers. Loki will triumph for a while, mankind will be destroyed, and heaven and earth will be consumed by fire. But Odin will be victorious in the end. He will create a new heaven and a new earth. He will be the ruler of all things, and will dwell in heaven, where the best and bravest of his followers are to be received after death. The Norse, the Persian, and the Christian doctrines, regarding the destruction of the world by fire, all had a common origin. Thor. Thor was the son of Odin and the virgin Earth. He was called the first born son of God. His worship was more widespread than that of any other Northern god. In the temple at Upsala he occupied the same place in the Scandinavian Trinity that Christ does in the Christian Trinity. Like Christ he died for man and was worshiped as a Savior. Midgard had a serpent, more formidable if not more wily than that of Eden, which threatened to destroy the human race. Thor attacked and slew the monster, but was himself killed by the venom which was exhaled from it. The slaying of the serpent of Midgard by Thor, the slaying of the python by the Greek god, and the bruising of the head of the serpent of Hebrew mythology by Christ, are analogous myths. Thor dwells in a mansion in the clouds. The thunder we hear in the sky is the noise of his chariot wheels, and the flashes of lightning are from his hammer which he dashes against the mountains. The "Britannica" says: "Some of the monks of a later period endeavored to persuade the Northmen that in Thor their forefathers had worshiped Christ, the strong and mighty Savior of the oppressed, and that his mallet was the rude form of the cross." "The sign of the hammer," says "Chambers," "was analogous to that of the cross among Christians." Baldur. One of the purest, one of the gentlest, and one of the best beloved of all the gods was Baldur, the beautiful son of Odin and Freya. In him were combined all things good and noble. The envious gods, inspired by Loki, shot their arrows at him in vain until the blind god Hoder pierced his body with an arrow of mistletoe and he passed into the power of Hel, the pallid goddess of death. Sometime--when the old order of things has passed away--in another and better world, where envy, and hatred, and war are unknown, Baldur will live again. "The death of Baldur," says Prof. Rasmus B. Anderson, the highest authority on Norse mythology, "forms the turning point in the great drama.... While he lived the power of the asas (gods) was secure, but when Baldur, at the instigation of Loki, was slain, the fall of creation could not be prevented." Writing of Norse mythology, Andrew Lang says: "There is, almost undoubtedly, a touch of Christian dawn on the figure and myth of the pure and beloved and ill-fated god Baldur, and his descent into hell." Odin, and Thor, and Baldur, and their divine companions are worshiped no longer; but their religion has left a deep impress on the religion that supplanted it. The Christianity of Scandinavia, of northern Germany, of England, and of America, the whole of Protestant Christianity, in short, and to some extent Catholicism itself, has been modified by this strange and fascinating faith. Regarding this subject "Chambers' Encyclopedia" says: "So deep-rooted was the adhesion to the faith of Odin in the North, that the early Christian teachers, unable to eradicate the old ideas, were driven to the expedient of trying to give them a coloring of Christianity." The selection of December 25th as the date of the Nativity was doubtless suggested by the Mithraic or some other solar worship of the East, but the Protestant Christmas came from the North. The mistletoe with which Baldur was slain reappears in this festival. The fire wheel, a remnant of the old Norse sun worship, existed among German Christians until the nineteenth century. The burning of the Yule log still survives. In some provinces of Germany the festival is still called by its Pagan name. Rev. Samuel M. Jackson, D.D., LL.D., Professor of Church History, New York University, says: "The Romans had, like other Pagan nations, a nature festival, called by them Saturnalia, and the Northern peoples had Yule; both celebrated the turn of the year from the death of winter to the life of spring--the winter solstice. As this was an auspicious change the festival was a very joyous one.... The giving of presents and the burning of candles characterized it. Among the northern people the lighting of a huge log in the houses of the great and with appropriate ceremonies was a feature. The Roman church finding this festival deeply intrenched in popular esteem, wisely adopted it" (Universal Cyclopedia). The festival of Easter belongs to this religion. It was observed in honor of the Saxon goddess Eastre, or Ostara, the goddess of Spring. It celebrated, not the resurrection of Christ, but the resurrection of Spring and flowers. It still retains the name of this goddess. Nearly every festival of the church--and the Catholic and English churches have many--are of Pagan origin. Every day of the week bears a Pagan name--four of them the names of Scandinavian gods--Tuesday the name of Tiu (Tyr), Wednesday the name of Woden (Odin), Thursday the name of Thor, and Friday that of Freya. Even the Christian "hell" was derived from "Hel," the name of the Norse goddess of the lower world. CHAPTER XII. SOURCES OF THE CHRIST MYTH--CONCLUSION. In each of these divinities we find some element or lineament of Christ. And all of them existed, either as myths or mortals, long anterior to his time. Plato, the latest of them to appear, was born in the fifth century B. C. These Pagan divinities and deified sages, together with the religious systems and doctrines previously noticed, were the sources from which Christ and Christianity were, for the most part, derived. The following religious elements and ideas, nearly all of which Christians believe to have been divinely revealed, and to belong exclusively to their religion, are of Pagan origin: Son of God, Messiah, Mediator, The Word, The Ideal Man, Annunciation, Immaculate conception, Divine incarnation, Genealogies showing royal descent, Virgin mother, Angelic visitants, Celestial music, Visit of shepherds, Visit of Magi, Star of Magi, Slaughter of innocents, Temptation, Transfiguration, Crucified Redeemer, Supernatural darkness, Resurrection, Ascension, Descent into Hell, Second advent, Unity of God, Trinity in Unity, Holy Ghost (Spirit), Devil, Angels, Immortality of the soul, Last judgment, Future rewards and punishments, Heaven, Hell, and Purgatory, Fatherhood of God, Brotherhood of man, Freedom of the will, Fall of man, Vicarious atonement, Kingdom of God, Binding of Satan, Miracles, Prophecies, Obsession, Exorcism, The priesthood, Pope and bishops, Monks and nuns, Worship of Virgin, Adoration of Virgin and Child, Worship of saints, Worship of relics, Image worship, Inspired Scriptures, The cross as a religious symbol, Crucifix, Rosary, Holy water, Lord's Day (Sunday), Christmas, Easter, Baptism, Eucharist, Washing of feet, Anointing, Confirmation, Masses for the dead, Fasting, Prayer, Auricular confession, Penance, Absolution, Celibacy, Poverty, Asceticism, Tithes, Community of goods, Golden Rule and other precepts. The Old Testament consists largely of borrowed myths. Nearly everything in Genesis, and much of the so-called history which follows, are but a recital of Assyrian, Babylonian, Chaldean and other legends. Dr. Draper says: "From such Assyrian sources, the legends of the creation of the earth and heaven, the garden of Eden, the making of man from clay, and of woman from one of his ribs, the temptation by the serpent, the naming of animals, the cherubim and flaming sword, the Deluge and the ark, the drying up of the waters by the wind, the building of the Tower of Babel, and the confusion of tongues, were obtained by Ezra" (Conflict, p. 223). The ten antediluvian patriarchs, Adam, Seth, Enos, Cainan, Mahalaleel, Jared, Enoch, Methuselah, Lamech, and Noah, whom Luke presents as the first ten progenitors of Christ, are now known to have been a dynasty of Babylonian kings. Abram, Isaac, Jacob, and Judah, whom both Matthew and Luke declare to have been ancestors of Christ, and whom Matthew places at the head of his genealogy, were not persons at all, but merely tribes of people. In regard to this Rev. Dr. Oort, professor of Oriental languages at Amsterdam, says: "They do not signify men, so much as groups of nations or single tribes. Abram, for instance, represents a great part of the Terachites; Lot, the Moabites and Ammonites, whose ancestor he is called; Ishmael, certain tribes of Arabia; Isaac, Israel and Edom together; Jacob, Israel alone; while his twelve sons stand for the twelve tribes of Israel. * * * Here and there the writers of the old legend themselves point out, as it were, that the patriarchs whom they bring upon the scene as men are personifications of tribes" (Bible for Learners, Vol. I, pp. 100-102). Moses, the reputed founder of Judaism and archetype of Christ, doubtless existed; but nearly all the Bible stories concerning him are myths. David and Solomon, from whose house Christ is said to have been descended, are historical characters; but the accounts respecting the greatness of their kingdom and the splendor of their reigns are fabulous. Christ and Christianity are partly creations and partly evolutions. While the elements composing them were mostly derived from preexisting and contemporary beliefs, they were not formed as a novelist creates a hero and a convention frames a constitution. Their growth was gradual. Jesus, if he existed, was a Jew, and his religion, with a few innovations, was Judaism. With his death, probably, his apotheosis began. During the first century the transformation was slow; but during the succeeding centuries rapid. The Judaic elements of his religion were, in time, nearly all eliminated, and the Pagan elements, one by one, were incorporated into the new faith. Regarding the establishment of this religion Lecky says: "Christianity had become the central intellectual power of the world, but it triumphed not so much by superseding rival faiths as by absorbing and transforming them. Old systems, old rites, old images were grafted into the new belief, retaining much of their ancient character but assuming new names and a new complexion" (Rationalism, Vol. I. p. 223). Its origin is thus traced by Mrs. Besant: "From the later Jews comes the Unity of God; from India and Egypt the Trinity in Unity; from India and Egypt the crucified Redeemer; from India, Egypt, Greece, and Rome, the virgin mother and the divine son; from Egypt its priests and its ritual; from the Essenes and the Therapeuts its asceticism; from Persia, India, and Egypt, its sacraments; from Persia and Babylonia its angels and devils; from Alexandria the blending into one of many lines of thought." (Freethinkers' Text Book, p. 392.) Concerning this, Judge Strange, another English writer, says: "The Jewish Scriptures and the traditionary teachings of their doctors, the Essenes and Therapeuts, the Greek philosophers, the Neo-Platonism of Alexandria and the Buddhism of the East, gave ample supplies for the composition of the doctrinal portion of the new faith; the divinely procreated personages of the Grecian and Roman pantheons, the tales of the Egyptian Osiris, and of the Indian Rama, Krishna, and Buddha, furnished the materials for the image of the new Savior of mankind." (Portraiture and Mission of Jesus, p. 27.) Dr. G. W. Brown, previously quoted, says: "The Eclectics formed the nucleus into which were merged all the various religions of the Orient. Mithra, of the Zoroastrians; Krishna and Buddha, of the Brahmans; Osiris, of the Egyptians, and Bacchus, of the Greeks and Romans, all disappeared and were lost in the new God Jesus, each of the predecessors contributing to the conglomerate religion known as Christian, Buddha and probably Bacchus contributing the most." Dr. John W. Draper, recognized on both sides of the Atlantic as one of the most erudite, one of the most philosophic, and one of the most impartial of historians, in the following paragraphs tells the story of the rise and triumph of this ever-changing faith: "In a political sense, Christianity is the bequest of the Roman Empire to the world." "Not only as a token of the conquest she had made, but also as a gratification to her pride, the conquering republic brought the gods of the vanquished peoples to Rome. With disdainful toleration, she permitted the worship of them all. That paramount authority exercised by each divinity in his original seat disappeared at once in the crowd of gods and goddesses among whom he had been brought. Already, as we have seen, through geographical discoveries and philosophical criticism, faith in the religion of the old days had been profoundly shaken. It was, by this policy of Rome, brought to an end." "In one of the Eastern provinces, Syria, some persons in very humble life had associated themselves together for benevolent and religious purposes. The doctrines they held were in harmony with that sentiment of universal brotherhood arising from the coalescence of the conquered kingdoms. They were doctrines inculcated by Jesus." "From this germ was developed a new, and as the events proved, all-powerful society--the Church; new, for nothing of the kind had existed in antiquity; powerful, for the local churches, at first isolated, soon began to confederate for their common interest. Through this organization Christianity achieved all her political triumphs." "After the abdication of Diocletian (A. D., 305), Constantine, one of the competitors for the purple, perceiving the advantages that would accrue to him from such a policy, put himself forth as the head of the Christian party. This gave him, in every part of the empire, men and women ready to encounter fire and sword in his behalf; it gave him unwavering adherents in every legion of the armies. In a decisive battle, near the Milvian bridge, victory crowned his schemes. The death of Maximian, and subsequently that of Licinius, removed all obstacles. He ascended the throne of the Caesars--the first Christian emperor." "Place, profit, power--these were in view of whoever now joined the conquering sect. Crowds of worldly persons, who cared nothing about its religious ideas, became its warmest supporters. Pagans at heart, their influence was soon manifested in the paganization of Christianity that forthwith ensued." "As years passed on, the faith described by Tertullian was transmuted into one more fashionable and more debased. It was incorporated with the old Greek mythology. Olympus was restored, but the divinities passed under other names. The more powerful provinces insisted on the adoption of their time-honored conceptions. Views of the Trinity, in accordance with Egyptian traditions, were established." "Heathen rites were adopted, a pompous and splendid ritual, gorgeous robes, mitres, tiaras, wax-tapers, processional services, lustrations, gold and silver vases, were introduced. The Roman lituns, the chief ensign of the augurs, became the crozier. Churches were built over the tombs of martyrs, and consecrated with rites borrowed from the ancient laws of the Roman pontiffs. Festivals and commemorations of martyrs multiplied with the numberless fictitious discoveries of their remains. Fasting became the grand means of repelling the devil and appeasing God; celibacy the greatest of the virtues. Pilgrimages were made to Palestine and the tombs of the martyrs. Quantities of dust and earth were brought from the Holy Land and sold at enormous prices, as antidotes against devils. The virtues of consecrated water were upheld. Images and relics were introduced into the churches, and worshiped after the fashion of the heathen gods.... The apotheosis of the old Roman times was replaced by canonization; tutelary saints succeeded to local mythological divinities." "As centuries passed, the paganization became more and more complete." "The maxim holds good in the social as well as the mechanical world, that, when two bodies strike, the form of both is changed. Paganism was modified by Christianity; Christianity by Paganism" (Conflict, pp. 34-52). While affirming the divine origin of Christianity, the church historian Mosheim admits its early paganization. He says: "The rites and institutions, by which the Greeks, Romans, and other nations had formerly testified their religious veneration for fictitious deities, were now adopted, with some slight alterations, by Christian bishops, and employed in the service of the true God.... Hence it happened that in these times the religion of the Greeks and Romans differed very little in its external appearance from that of the Christians. They had both a most pompous and splendid ritual. Gorgeous robes, mitres, tiaras, wax-tapers, crosiers, processions, lustrations, images, gold and silver vases, and many such circumstances of pageantry, were equally to be seen in the heathen temples and the Christian churches" (Ecclesiastical History, p. 105). The Rev. Dr. R. Heber Newton, in an article which appeared in the North American Review, says: "There is, in fact, as we now see, nothing in the externals of the Christian church which is not a survival from the churches of paganism.... The sacramental use of water and bread and wine, the very sign of the cross--all are ancient human institutions, rites and symbols. Scratch a Christian and you come upon a Pagan. Christianity is a rebaptized paganism." "Christendom," says Dr. Lyman Abbott, "is only an imperfectly Christianized paganism." The creeds of old are dead or dying, and the celestial kings, who seemed so real to their worshipers, are mostly crownless phantoms now. Buddha, Laou-tsze, and Confucius, the wise men of the East, command the reverence of nearly half the world, and the Persian prophet has a few followers; but from these faiths the supernatural is vanishing. Millions yet believe that Krishna, the Christ of India, is the son of God; but this faith, too, is waning. The intellectual offspring of Plato's brilliant brain survive, but all that remains of his divine father is a mutilated effigy. The genial Sun still warms and lights the earth, but centuries have flown since Mithra, his beloved, received the adoration of mankind. The fire still glows upon the hearth, but the great Titan who brought it down from Heaven lives only in a poet's dream. The crimson nectar of the vine moves men to mirth and madness now as when the swan of Teos sang its praise, but Bacchus and the ancient mysteries are dead. Above storm-wrapped Olympus, as of old, is heard the thunder's awful peal, but it is not the voice of Zeus. The voice of this, the mightiest of all the gods, is hushed forever. The populous and ever-growing empire of the dead still flourishes, but in its solemn court Osiris no longer sits as judge. The mother, as of yore, presses to her loving heart her dimpled babe and fondly gazes into its azure eyes to woo its artless smile; but Egypt's star-crowned virgin and her royal child, who once received the homage of a world, are now but mythic dust. Manly beauty thrills our daughters' hearts with love's strange ecstasy, and the feigned suffering of the dying hero on the mimic stage moistens their eyes with tears; but Adonis sleeps in his Phoenician tomb, his slumbers undisturbed by woman's sobs. The purple flower, substance of his dear self, which Venus carried in her bosom, withered long ago. When, at eve, the summer shower bathes with its cooling drops the verdure of the fields, across the sun-kissed cloud which veils the Orient sky may still be seen the gorgeous bridge of Bifrost; but over its majestic arch the dauntless Odin rides no more. "The fair humanities of old religions, The power, the beauty, and the majesty, That had their haunts in dale, or piny mountain, Or forest by slow stream, or pebbly spring, Or chasms and watery depths; all these have vanished; They live no longer in the faith of reason." --Schiller. What has been the fate of the Pagan gods will be the fate of the Christian deity. Christianity, which supplanted the ancient faiths, will, in turn, be supplanted by other religions. On two continents already the cross has gone down before the crescent. The belief in Christ as a divine being is passing away. The creeds, as of old, affirm his divinity, but in the minds of his more enlightened followers the divine elements are disappearing. What was formerly believed to be supernatural is now known to be natural. What were once living verities are now dead formalities. Slowly and painfully, but surely and clearly, men are becoming convinced that there are no divine beings and no supernatural religions--that all the gods, including Christ, are myths, and all the religions, including Christianity, human productions. In the words of Jules Soury, "Time, which condenses nebulae, lights up suns, brings life and thought upon planets theretofore steeped in death, and gives back ephemeral worlds to dissolution and the fertile chaos of the everlasting universe--time knows nought of gods nor of the dim and fallacious hopes of ignorant mortals." With these sublime pictures--a retrospect and a prophecy--from the gallery of the great master, I close this long-drawn subject: "When India is supreme, Brahma sits upon the world's throne. When the sceptre passes to Egypt, Isis and Osiris receive the homage of mankind. Greece, with her fierce valor, sweeps to empire, and Zeus puts on the purple of authority. The earth trembles with the tread of Rome's intrepid sons, and Jove grasps with mailed hand the thunderbolts of Heaven. Rome falls, and Christians, from her territory, with the red sword of war, carve out the ruling nations of the world, and now Christ sits upon the old throne. Who will be his successor?" "I look again. The popes and priests are gone. The altars and the thrones have mingled with the dust. The aristocracy of land and cloud have perished from the earth and air. The gods are dead. A new religion sheds its glory on mankind.... And as I look Life lengthens, Joy deepens, Love intensifies, Fear dies--Liberty at last is God, and Heaven is here." 
50349	----	A BASKET OF BARLEY LOAVES. BY THE AUTHOR OF "THE HIGH MOUNTAIN APART" AND "SACRAMENTAL SABBATHS." "There is a lad here, which hath five barley loaves."--JOHN vi. 9. PHILADELPHIA: PRESBYTERIAN BOARD OF PUBLICATION, No. 1334 CHESTNUT STREET. Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1870, by THE TRUSTEES OF THE PRESBYTERIAN BOARD OF PUBLICATION, In the office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. WESTCOTT & THOMSON, _Stereotypers, Philada._ TO MY FORMER PASTOR, REV. ALEXANDER DICKSON, WHO TAUGHT ME "THE WAY OF GOD MORE PERFECTLY," AND WHOSE THOUGHTS AND VERY WORDS ENTER LARGELY INTO THESE PAGES, I DEDICATE THIS BASKET OF BARLEY LOAVES. EDITOR'S PREFACE. To those who crave more of Christ in the soul and in the daily life, to those who long for holiness and assurance, this BASKET OF BARLEY LOAVES will bring welcome refreshment and nourishment. The devout, even though trembling, believer, who hungers after righteousness, will here find that which will kindle his affections and lead them to the only satisfying source of love and peace, Jesus Christ. What of sweetness and strength there is in these meditations is due to God's word, of which they are full. Sweeter than honey and the honey-comb, more precious than silver or gold, was that word to the Psalmist; and thence these chapters draw their flavor and force. By them the weary, the needy, the longing, will be led nearer to Christ and be more filled with the power of his love. May these few Barley Loaves feed many thousands of hungry souls! J. W. D. CONTENTS. PAGE I. JESUS SOUGHT AND FOUND 11 II. HIS NAME 24 III. THE ASSURANCE 31 IV. THE PERFECT WORK 41 V. THE CHASTENING 52 VI. THE COMPASSION 61 VII. THE SYMPATHY 69 VIII. THE LOVE 78 IX. THE LIFE ABUNDANT 85 X. THE FORGIVENESS 90 XI. THE HELP 97 XII. THE DELIVERANCE 102 XIII. THE HEARER OF PRAYER 107 XIV. THE REWARD 112 XV. THE SOUL'S PORTION 119 XVI. THE CROSS 127 XVII. THE PRESENCE 131 XVIII. THE APPEARING 136 XIX. THE CONCLUSION 143 [Illustration] A BASKET OF BARLEY LOAVES. I. _Jesus Sought and Found._ The crowd was thronging and jostling. Eager and wistful faces were turned to One who stood in the midst. His countenance was mild and compassionate; and as I gazed upon him, a deep desire filled my heart to know and follow this Man of Sorrows. With swiftest steps I hurried on and pressed into the crowd. The lowly, suffering woman was satisfied to touch the hem of his garments, and it was enough. But I was not content until I had grasped his hand. Yes, I put my hand in his--my guilty hand that nailed him to the cross. "Who touched me?" He turned, and we stood face to face. In answer to his inquiry I whispered, "Lord, I will follow thee whithersoever thou goest." A look of love glanced from his eye; nearer he drew me to his side and whispered, "Beloved." Oh how it thrilled my heart! Excess of joy choked my utterance, and I could only grasp his hand more firmly and exclaim, "My Lord and my God!" Tell me not now of loneliness and desolation. Jesus is mine, and so we journey hand in hand; and as he whispers to me of love unchangeable, I hide this sweet secret in my heart and answer, "I am thine." "They tell me," we said to an aged man, "that you have no rock on which to plant your feet." "No rock?" he said, calmly, with a smile--"no rock? Well, my creed does differ from yours. Mine is love to God and love to my fellow-men. I do not believe such a man as Jesus Christ ever lived. The world has had many saviours. Mine is a principle--a rightening principle. I have tried all beliefs, and here I am content to rest." But we have not so learned Christ. Infidels may tell me such a man never lived; humanitarians may tell me he was mere man and no God; careless worldlings may tell me there is no beauty in him that I should desire him; but from the far-off region of light, beyond the mist-clouds that encircle the earth, I hear a voice, calm in its majesty and tender in its tones: "I am Alpha and Omega, the beginning and the ending, saith the Lord, which is, and which was, and which is to come, the Almighty." "I am the light of the world: he that followeth me shall not walk in darkness, but shall have the light of life." "I am the Lord thy God, the Holy One of Israel, thy Saviour." "I, even I, am the Lord; and beside me there is no Saviour." "O Israel, thou hast destroyed thyself, but in me is thine help." "I will ransom them from the power of the grave; I will redeem them from death." "Come unto me, all ye that labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest." Hearing this voice I draw nearer. "Have I been so long time with you, and yet hast thou not known me? Thou hast both seen him, and he it is that talketh with thee." "Lord, I believe." "I know thee who thou art, the Holy One of God." With the eye of faith I have seen thee, and I can testify that "thou art fairer than the children of men." With the hand of faith I have grasped thine, O thou "Friend that stickest closer than a brother." And thou hast talked with me. "Never man spake like this man." I cannot utter half the words Jesus has spoken to my soul; but this I say: Into his hands I commit my soul with all its interests; "for I know whom I have believed, and am persuaded that he is able to keep that which I have committed unto him against that day." "O Jesus, Friend unfailing, How dear thou art to me! And, cares or fears assailing, I find my strength in thee. "I love to own, Lord Jesus, Thy claims o'er me and mine; Bought with thy blood most precious, Whose can I be but _thine_?" "As the late lamented Dudley Tyng was passing from the earthly vineyard to his higher position in the heavenly," writes Boardman in his book entitled "Him that Overcometh," "he said to his father, while light fell upon him from the open gateway, 'Father, stand up for Jesus.' Then, after advancing a little farther on into the fuller effulgence, he spoke again, saying, 'Father, stand up in Jesus.' These injunctions were reported by his father as they fell from the lips of his son, and went abroad all over the land. The first one struck a chord which vibrates still, and passed into a watchword for all Christian enterprise and for all enterprising Christians, but the second seemed to find no chord keyed up and ready to respond. It is to be feared that this is indicative of the true state of the Christian world to-day--_for_ Christ, more than _in_ him; and yet, if we may believe the words of Christ himself, and the history of all the progress of his kingdom, we have the secret of all power in these two words, "in Jesus," with the converse of them, "Jesus in us." "_Abide in me, and I in you._" Christ within is better even than Christ beside us, as the apostles found after Pentecost. This is the secret of all joy and the source of all strength. To those who are just starting on the Christian pilgrimage we would repeat these words of the Master, "Abide in me." Guide-books are good, but a trusty guide is better. We might fill our pages with minute directions concerning the way, but we would rather point to Christ, who is the way. We remember that there are times when travelers forget their guide-books and cling to their strong and sure-footed guides. Consider our Guide. He knows every step of the way, and he will guide us with his eye. Let us meditate upon Christ till our hearts are led to desire more intimate fellowship with him. "My meditation of him shall be sweet"--"sweet" when I remember his name, his character, his work, his promises and the peace he gives. But it may be that some to whom these pages are addressed find many dark threads of doubt woven into their meditation of Christ. You have never, perhaps, been fully assured of your acceptance with him; or, if confident at the commencement of your Christian course, doubts and fears may have gathered around your pathway before journeying very far into the wilderness. The chilling winds of unbelief make winter in your soul. The days are short and cold; the nights are long and colder. Yes, even the day seems as the night--all darkness. Some around you seem to be enjoying perpetual spring-time, because Christ shines so constantly upon their happy souls, and your coldness and darkness seem all the sadder in contrast with their warmth and brightness. How can you account for this? Ask some Christian friends, and they will tell you that you must not expect so much joy--that the Christian life is a constant conflict with doubt and sin, and you cannot expect to be always as happy as perhaps you were at first. You turn away sadly disappointed. They are older Christians, and you think they must know better than you. What will you do? Will you sit under the clouds, or struggle to get out into clear sunshine? We cannot think that God intends you to have a limited measure of joy and peace. Why should you not grow happier in your love to Christ as you learn to know him better? Why should not the promises become more precious as you prove them and find them all "yea and amen in Christ Jesus?" Let us inquire into the cause of your darkness. The Saviour does not willingly withhold his smile which makes spring and summer in the soul. When God made a covenant with you he gave you this promise: "I will never leave thee, nor forsake thee." God has not then forsaken you. Perhaps you have neglected the means of grace. Perhaps you are cherishing some secret sin. Perhaps you have looked more to your own frames and feelings than to Christ's perfect work. Your mind has dwelt too much upon self. Take the advice of one who walked with God and was not, because God took him: "For one look at self take ten looks to Christ." The advice is good, and it has lifted many a Christian above the clouds. "Saw ye Him whom my soul loveth? I sought him, but I found him not." Is this your sad lament? Seek him again. Seek him earnestly, prayerfully, constantly. Seek him in the place of secret prayer. Jesus had his secret place upon the lonely mountain. Though he lived in constant communion with his Father, though his every step was a hymn of praise and his every act was a prayer, still he felt his need of a place where he could pour out his soul in supplication. If secret prayer was necessary for the Master, is it not more needful for you? If you have neglected that, it is not strange if it is winter in your soul. Seek Jesus also in his holy word. In the garden of the gospel you may meet him and walk with him, holding sweet communion. Here he reveals himself. Obey his own commandment, "Search the Scriptures." This is the reason and this the reward, "for they are they that testify of me." They testify of Christ. Yes, they are full of Christ. Rays from his cross shine through both the Testaments. Prophets and saints of old looked forward and rejoiced--"not having received the promises," it is true, "but having seen them afar off, and were persuaded of them and embraced them." Fuller, clearer light now shines on Calvary. Draw near and read again the sacred story. Yes, "search the Scriptures," for here you will surely find Jesus. His love prompted every promise, and is the pledge and fulfillment of every promise. Seek him in the place of social prayer. Thomas was not at the prayer-meeting when Jesus manifested himself to his disciples. How much he lost by staying away! When Jesus draws near and says, "Peace be unto you!" then let me be within hearing of his gentle voice. Let me be near when he says, "Receive ye the Holy Ghost." "_Only_ a prayer-meeting," do you say? _Only_ a visit from Jesus, the Giver of peace! Who would miss a visit of so much profit--a visit of so much pleasure! Seek Jesus at the sacramental supper. Jesus is there. There you may enjoy his longest, sweetest visits. There he speaks peace to his people. Sweet it is to meet Jesus in the closet; sweet visits there he pays his beloved and betrothed. Sweet it is to meet him in the holy Scriptures; sweet to find him in the place of social prayer. But sweeter far are his visits at the communion-table. To sit like Mary at his feet, to lie like John upon his bosom--was ever joy like this? was ever Jesus nearer? No longer do we say, "Saw ye Him whom my soul loveth?" We have found him! we have found him! "His left hand is under my head, while his right doth embrace me." I charge you, my unstable heart, that you forsake not, nor grieve again "Him whom my soul loveth." Now that you have found him, cleave to him. "Abide in me," the Master says. In union with Christ the Christian finds his safety, strength and happiness. And the closer this union, the greater is the security, strength and happiness of the Christian. Would we be guided by his eye? Then must we be continually "looking unto Jesus." Do we need strength? "In the Lord Jehovah is everlasting strength." Are we seeking happiness? "Happy is he that hath the God of Jacob for his help, whose hope is in the Lord his God." Cling closer, young Christian, cling closer to Christ. Learn to walk with him daily in sweet communion. Be not satisfied with an occasional visit from your Lord, but beseech him to abide with you. He is willing to come and abide with you. "If any man love me, he will keep my words: and my Father will love him, and we will come unto him, and make our abode with him." [Illustration] II. _His Name._ "My meditation of him shall be sweet" _when I remember his name_. We need not say, as did Jacob, "Tell me, I pray thee, thy name." We know thy name, _Jehovah Tsidkenu_, "The Lord our Righteousness." We are all as an unclean thing, and all our righteousnesses are as filthy rags, and all the soap and nitre in the world cannot make us pure and holy. "If I wash myself with snow-water, and make my hands never so clean, yet shalt thou plunge me in the ditch, and mine own clothes shall abhor me." But in the covenant of the cross we come and change clothes with Christ. He takes our filthy rags and gives us his own spotless robe; and we are "accepted in the Beloved," not having our "own righteousness, which is of the law, but that which is through the faith of Christ, the righteousness which is of God by faith." We know thy name, _Jehovah Shalom_, The Lord of Peace. Sweet peace speedily follows as one of the results of justification. "And the work of righteousness shall be peace, and the effects of righteousness quietness and assurance for ever." Or, as the apostle expresses it in the Epistle to the Romans, "Therefore, being justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ." Peace was one of the notes in the song which angels sung when He was born who himself "is our peace." And when he was parting from his disciples "peace" was among the last words that fell from his lips: "Peace I leave with you; my peace I give unto you." "Thou wilt keep him in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on thee." "Perfect peace," being interpreted, means, "Peace, peace." So that we shall have a double portion, "good measure, pressed down and shaken together and running over." We know thy name, _Jehovah Nissi_, The Lord my Banner. "Thou hast given a banner to them that fear thee." He his own self is our standard and our standard-bearer, and we need not fear that our flag shall ever be taken, or that those who fight under it shall be beaten. Though we are but weak worms of the dust, and are called to contend "against principalities, against powers, against spiritual wickedness in high places," there is nothing more sure than that we shall win the day. "If God be for us, who can be against us?" Looking at the end from the beginning, and confident of victory, we can say, when buckling on the harness before the battle is begun, "We are more than conquerors through Him that loved us." We know thy name, _Jehovah Rophi_, The Lord my Healer. When he began his holy ministry here on earth, "Jesus went about all Galilee, teaching in their synagogues, and preaching the gospel of the kingdom, and healing all manner of sickness, and all manner of disease among the people." Some came to him groping in their blindness, others came on crutches, and many were carried to him on their beds; and he healed them all. Though he came from heaven mainly to heal diseases of the mind, yet while he labored here in the flesh he healed more diseases of the body. He is still the only Physician of the soul, and by far the best Physician of the body. "He knoweth our frame," this our mortal body, better than the wisest men, for he made it, and without his blessing the best prescription will do us no good. He is our Physician. When we are taken sick he is first called to our bedside. By prayer we lay hold of something at the mercy-seat that rings a bell in heaven, and he makes haste and comes down and "healeth all our diseases." We know thy name, _Jehovah Jireh_, The Lord will Provide. He provided a lamb upon Mount Moriah for Abraham in his greatest emergency. He has also provided a Lamb for us--a Lamb without spot or blemish, "the Lamb slain from the foundation of the world." "Even Christ our Passover is sacrificed for us." On his guiltless head our guilt was laid. And having provided a Lamb for us, he will provide anything else. "My God shall supply all your need according to his riches in glory by Christ Jesus." As the greater includes the less, so the unspeakable gift embosoms all minor blessings. "He that spared not his own Son, but delivered him up for us all, how shall he not with him freely give us all things?" We know thy name, _Jehovah Shammah_, The Lord is there. Wherever we may be called to go, the Lord is there. What strong consolation, what good cheer there is in this blessed truth, "Awake, asleep, at home, abroad, I am surrounded still with God!" In every duty, in every difficulty, the Lord is there. In the lion's den and in the fiery furnace, the Lord is there. In sickness and in health, in sorrow and in joy, the Lord is there. When our pilgrimage is almost over, and we are going down into the dark valley, blessed be his name, we shall find that the Lord is there. "Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for thou art with me." Beyond the valley there is a place about which we know very little; but we know that there is a house of many mansions, and we know that the Lord is there. "I go to prepare a place for you." There is a holy city along whose golden streets these feet shall one day walk; "And the name of the city from that day shall be, The Lord is there." "Oh magnify the Lord with me, and let us exalt his name together." He is everything to us. Are we sinners? He is our Righteousness. Are we in trouble? He is our Peace. Are we soldiers? He is our Banner. Are we sick? He is our Healer. Are we in want of anything? He will provide. Are we going into eternity? He is there, waiting to receive us up into glory. "Oh magnify the Lord with me, and let us exalt his name together." "My meditation of him shall be sweet" when I remember his name, for "they that know thy name shall put their trust in thee." [Illustration] [Illustration] III. _The Assurance._ "My meditation of him shall be sweet" _when I remember the assurance he has given me_. To his dear children God is pleased to give earnests or pledges of the future bliss. We cannot think that any of the heirs of glory are wholly deprived of foretastes of heaven. Some indeed walk in the mist-clouds of doubt for a great part of their lives. Only at intervals the clouds part and reveal a ray of heavenly sunshine. They live amid clouds--it may be they die amid clouds--and never know clear shining until they reach the land of perpetual sunshine. Others there are who pitch their tents upon "the high hill Clear." They live in the land Beulah, where the sun is ever shining and the birds are ever singing, where Giant Despair never comes and where Doubting Castle is not so much as seen. They live in the sunshine, they die in the sunshine--no, they do not die; they pass away, onward and upward, into clearer light and brighter sunshine. Light is sown for them on earth by Him who is the light of the world, and the harvest in eternity is abundant and glorious. The first-fruits here, though nothing compared with the after-fruits, are beautiful and greatly to be desired. Why may they not be enjoyed by all? We hardly think it is God's will that his children should have a limited measure of peace and joy. Neither can we think it humility to doubt the words of our Lord Jesus: "I give unto them eternal life; and they shall never perish, neither shall any pluck them out of my hand." "Yes," we hear you saying, "this is comforting for Christians, but am I a Christian? The clouds of unbelief often envelop me and exclude all heavenly light. 'Whereby shall I know that I shall inherit the land?' Who will assure me of my interest in Christ?" "He that believeth on the Son of God hath the witness in himself." Can you remain ignorant of so great a change wrought within by the Spirit? Are there not many signs to prove to you that you are in Christ? Do you not believe and know that a change has passed over all your feelings and affections? Do you not love the things you once hated and hate the things you once loved? Do you not love all who bear the Saviour's image? Is not sin odious to you? Do you not find some pleasure in drawing near to God in prayer? Is not the thought of continuing in sin painful to you? Would you willingly grieve your Saviour? We would not say, "Peace! peace!" when there is no peace. We would have you look well to the foundations of your hope. Examine it closely. Let the light of the Word fall full and clear upon it. Look at it on every side, and rest not till you know that it is founded simply and solely upon the merits of the Redeemer. If you are sure Christ's work is really begun in your soul, you need have no doubt about its being continued and finally completed. The Master counts well the cost when he begins his work in the sinner's soul, and none shall ever mock his work, saying, "This man began to build and was not able to finish." Having ascertained this all-important fact, you may be "always confident" till you enter his presence "with exceeding joy." You need not fear that you shall fall away. "Rejoice not against me, O mine enemy: when I fall, I shall arise." You shall be "kept by the power of God through faith unto salvation." You need never fear that Christ will weary of his work, but you may be "confident of this very thing, that he which has begun a good work in you will perform it until the day of Jesus Christ," and you shall stand "without fault before the throne." We know some humble and sincere disciples will shrink back, saying, "We are not able," when we beg them to make Paul's language all their own. With their hands upon their mouths and their mouths in the dust, they dare not look up with perfect confidence; they think it almost presumption, or at least they say, despondingly, "It is not for me." "Paul," they say, "was an uncommon Christian--he attained a tall stature in holiness." So he did; and why? Because his was no half-way service; he gave no divided heart to his master. That was the reason why he so well understood the doctrine of full assurance. "If any man will do his will, he shall know of the doctrine." Do you understand these words of the Master? He does not say, "If any man fully keeps the law, which is the perfect will of the Father, he shall know of the doctrine," for it is not possible for any mere man perfectly to keep the commandments of God. Nor does he say, "If any man _does_ the will," but, "If any man _will_"--is willing to do his will. If he shows a willing heart and mind, God will enlighten him more and more. And what is implied in this willing heart and mind but full consecration? When shall we learn the secret of a happy life? "Ye cannot serve two masters." Those who give themselves up to Satan's service may lead an unhappy life, but greater must be the unhappiness of those who are trying to make a compromise between God and Satan. They can enjoy neither service; they are of all men most miserable. O ye who have professed the name of Christ, come away from all inferior pleasures! Pleasures? They are not worthy of the name. One hour with Christ is worth them all. Will you then suffer them to hide the Saviour from your view? Once we were happy all the day long, having given ourselves to Christ in the covenant of the cross. Christ was the source of our life, the fullness of our joy, all our salvation and all our desire. Having enjoyed his precious presence, we dreamed not that we could ever wander; we thought our hearts would cleave to him for evermore. We had no doubts in those days. "My Beloved is mine, and I am his," was the constant language of our heart. But, alas! the world again entered our heart, dividing it and leaving but half for God. Then came the clouds gathering thick and fast, till our Saviour was hidden from our view. Upon the ear of the watchman who went about the streets soon fell our mournful cry, "Saw ye Him whom my soul loveth?" We sought him, but we found him not. Our gloom and grief increased. Oh for one hour of Jesus' presence! "Let all other joys forsake this heart," we cried, "if only we may again enjoy Jesus' presence." Feeling thus, we thrust the joys (falsely so called) of earth away, and kneeling at the mercy-seat, we renewed our covenant with Jesus. True, there was no joy in our hearts; we saw not yet his smile. But we could trust him where we could not trace him; so we confessed to him all our wanderings. We told him how we had thought to serve him with half our hearts, but now we would give him all. The first steps were taken in darkness, but God soon revealed his smiling face. If this assurance is attainable by one, why not by all? If at one time it may be enjoyed, why not at all times? We have "for a foundation a stone, a tried stone, a precious corner-stone, a sure foundation," laid in Zion by the great Master-Builder. Foundation-stones are chosen with great care and laid with care, for upon them the whole building depends. Look at this foundation-stone. Tell me, is it not perfect, sure and tried? This is the stone that the builders rejected: they perished, but it remaineth, and upon it the Lord hath built his Church. Believers in all ages and climes have built all their hopes of heaven upon it. Is it not a tried stone? Satan tried it and found no flaw; Pilate tried it and found no fault; the Father tried it and pronounced it good; and we have tried it and proved it so. What a sure foundation it is, with Christ for the corner-stone, the next stone faith, then repentance, hope, submission and all the graces! "Master, see what manner of stones are here." Are they not goodly stones? and will they not make a beautiful temple? Upon Christ, the precious corner-stone, let us build our hopes of heaven, and dismiss all fears for the future. My hope, my joy, my salvation, my desire, my righteousness, my strength, my all--Christ in me "the hope of glory." "Lord, who shall abide in thy tabernacle? who shall dwell in thy holy hill?" I have not clean hands, nor a pure heart. Behold, I am vile. Nevertheless, I shall abide in thy tabernacle; I shall dwell in thy holy hill. Why? Because Christ is mine. His hands are spotless, his heart is pure, his righteousness is perfect. All his is mine, for he is mine. I build my hopes upon the Rock Christ Jesus. These hopes shall never be overthrown; I have no fear of it. _When_ the head stone shall be placed I cannot tell, but I wait and work with joy, hoping unto the end. Sometimes weariness almost overcomes me, for building is hard work. Foes within and foes without make the labor exceedingly hard. But whether in joy or grief, the building goes on, and from the completed structure shouts shall ascend to the great Master-Builder: "Grace, grace unto it!" "Glory be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Ghost! Amen." [Illustration] IV. _The Perfect Work._ "My meditation of him shall be sweet" _when I consider his perfect work_. What consternation must have been felt among the ranks of holy spirits when sin entered into the world, "and death by sin!" Could grief intrude into heaven, we should imagine _that_ an hour of deepest anguish when the Father, looking down upon the fallen race, exclaimed, "How shall I pardon thee for this?" "How shall I put thee among the children?" How could the just and holy God justify the sinner? Not one of all the heavenly host could solve the problem. "How shall I give thee up?" burst from the heart of the loving Father. The beloved Son exclaims: "Deliver him from going down to the pit; I have found a ransom." "Who will seek and save these wanderers?" says the Father. "Father, send me," the Son replies; "I will seek them, and save them, and bring them home. I will bear the wrath due to them for sin; I will die for them." The Father accepts the Substitute; the Son lays aside his glory and girds himself for the mighty conflict. He looks along the line of weary years, and though he sees nothing but suffering, reproach and death, his holy purpose remains unshaken. The lost sheep of the house of Israel must be saved, and none but Jesus could save them. "So he was their Saviour." His work of _justification_ is perfect. Look at it for a moment. What is justification? "Justification is an act of God's free grace, wherein he pardoneth _all_ our sins, and accepteth us as righteous in his sight, only for the righteousness of Christ imputed to us, and received by faith alone." Can there be anything more simple and beautiful and perfect than this? It is free to all; it is sufficient for all: "Whosoever will;" "And I will pardon _all_ their iniquities." It is the work of a moment, but it abideth for ever. One look of faith, and life, eternal life, is yours. "The moment a sinner believes And trusts in his crucified Lord, His pardon at once he receives, Redemption in full through his blood." His work of _adoption_ is perfect. Like justification, it is done in a moment, and it abideth for ever. "Adoption is an act of God's free grace, whereby we are received into the number and have a right to all the privileges of the sons of God." The Romans had a twofold form of adoption. The first was a private transaction between the parties, receiving the person adopted into the family; the second was the public recognition in the forum. The moment we are justified we are adopted. This is the private transaction. Hearing a voice from heaven saying, "Thy sins are forgiven thee; go in peace," we look up through our tears, and with rejoicing lips we cry, "Father!" "_Now_ are we sons of God," placed among the children, because Jesus solved the mighty problem, showing how God can be just and yet justify the sinner. The public recognition will come very soon. When we reach the pearly gates, Jesus, our Elder Brother, will be waiting to receive and acknowledge us as his own. Standing before his Father and ours, he will stretch forth his hand toward his disciples and say, "Behold my mother and my brethren!" His work of _sanctification_ is perfect. It is not, like justification and adoption, an act done in a moment. It is a work slow and at times painful, yet sure and perfect. It begins when we are justified, it ends when we are glorified. "Sanctification is the _work_ of God's free grace, whereby we are renewed in the whole man after the image of God, and are enabled more and more to die unto sin and live unto righteousness." It is often a painful work. "The flesh, with the affections and lusts," must be crucified. We must "die unto sin." The sound of the hammer and axe and iron tools is not heard by those who are without, yet every blow causes the heart to quiver, and the cutting is very painful. Nevertheless, who would not be "a carved stone" in the temple of our God? We praise thee for this work, O God. We rejoice to know that thou wilt not weary of it, but wilt carry it on "until the day of Jesus Christ." We shall be perfect in that day. No imperfection shall remain in us--no sinful desire, no unholy thought. Jesus will say unto us, "Thou art all fair, my love; there is no spot in thee," and he will present us "faultless before the presence of his glory with exceeding joy." His work of _redemption_ is perfect. Christ, our Prophet, instructs us, "revealing to us, by his word and Spirit, the will of God for our salvation." Christ, our Priest, offers up himself "a sacrifice to satisfy divine justice and reconcile us to God." He also "maketh continual intercession for us." Christ, our King, subdues "us to himself;" he rules and defends us, and restrains and conquers "all his and our enemies." Is he not a perfect Redeemer? He redeems our souls from death, our bodies also from the grave. "My flesh also shall rest in hope," always confident of a glorious resurrection. "For I know that my Redeemer liveth, and that he shall stand at the latter day upon the earth; and though after my skin worms destroy this body, yet in my flesh shall I see God." "I will ransom them from the power of the grave; I will redeem them from death. O Death, I will be thy plague! O Grave, I will be thy destruction!" Though some may cavil at this mystery and say sneeringly, "How are the dead raised up? and with what body do they come?" yet we trust in the word of our God, and "_we know_ that if our earthly house of this tabernacle were dissolved, we have a building of God, an house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens." Christ, "the first-fruits of them that slept," is risen; then how say some among you that there is no resurrection of the dead? "Christ is risen!" Oh glorious truth, first proclaimed to the women who came weeping to his sepulchre! "Fear ye not," the angel answered, "for I know that ye seek Jesus which was crucified. He is not here; for he is risen, as he said." Christ is risen! Then we which are Christ's shall rise also. "Because I live ye shall live also." "Behold, I show you a mystery:" "the dead shall be raised incorruptible, and we shall be changed. For this corruptible must put on incorruption, and this mortal must put on immortality." O Lord, our Redeemer, Prophet, Priest and King, we praise thee for thy perfect work! Yes, "my meditation of him shall be sweet" when I consider his perfect work. My Master too regards it with satisfaction; he sees of the travail of his soul, and is satisfied. His life on earth was sorrowful, but his triumph was complete. "Having spoiled principalities and powers," God's enemies and ours, "he made a show of them openly, triumphing over them in it," or in _himself_, as it may be rendered. As a victor returning from the fight, he ascended to the glory which he had with the Father "before the world was;" and the song of the glorified filled the high heavens with richer harmony as the Well-Beloved of the Father proved by the nail-prints that he had finished the work which was given him to do. Coming ages will testify to his triumph and to the completeness of his work. On earth it was for the most part viewed not only with indifference, but even with unbelief and scorn. "He came unto his own, and his own received him not." "For a good work we stone thee not; but for blasphemy, and because that thou, being a man, makest thyself God." "He saved others; let him save himself, if he be Christ, the chosen of God." "If thou be Christ, save thyself and us." "If he be the King of Israel, let him now come down from the cross, and we will believe him." But now a mighty multitude swell the song, "Worthy is the Lamb that was slain, to receive power, and riches, and wisdom, and strength, and honor, and glory, and blessing. And every creature which is in heaven, and on the earth, and such as are in the sea, and all that are in them, heard I saying, Blessing, and honor, and glory, and power, be unto Him that sitteth upon the throne, and unto the Lamb, for ever and ever. And the four beasts said, Amen. And the four and twenty elders fell down and worshiped Him that liveth for ever and ever." "Ten thousand times ten thousand sung Loud anthems round the throne, When lo! one solitary tongue Began a song unknown-- A song unknown to angel ears-- A song that told of banished fears, Of pardoned sins and dried up tears. "Not one of all the heavenly host Could these high notes attain, But spirits from a distant coast United in the strain; Till he who first began the song, To sing alone not suffered long, Was mingled with a countless throng. "And still, as hours are fleeting by, The angels ever bear Some newly-ransomed soul on high To join the chorus there: And so the song will louder grow, Till all redeemed by Christ below To that fair world of rapture go. "Oh give me, Lord, my golden harp, And tune my broken voice, That I may sing of troubles sharp Exchanged for endless joys: The song that ne'er was heard before-- A sinner reached the heavenly shore-- But now shall sound for evermore." [Illustration] [Illustration] V. _The Chastening._ "My meditation of him shall be sweet" _when I consider his chastenings_, for "blessed is the man whom thou chastenest, O Lord." Of all the beatitudes this may appear to be the strangest. To the young disciple chastisements may seem anything but happiness; you see in them no beauty that you should desire them. If you have never been taught in the school of affliction, you cannot understand this; neither can you understand it if you have not learned well what you were there taught. Perhaps you have been greatly afflicted, and yet you can see no good fruits of it in your soul. Every disappointment has only increased bitter feelings in your heart. You are conscious of this. You are ready to say, "Where are the blessed effects of sorrow?" The Master comes "seeking fruit," and findeth none. Why is this? We reply, that sorrow in itself has no sanctifying power. Many are hardened by it, and rendered more unlovely and unholy. But the plane in the hand of the carpenter's Son cannot fail to make you better, and if you are not profited by it, it is because you do not rightly receive your sorrows. While you were a stranger to the love of Christ you had no special consolation to sustain you in the time of trial. The consolations of God, which are neither few nor small, you had no right to appropriate. With every stroke of the rod you seemed to hear a terrible voice saying, "I, even I, will chastise you seven times for your sins." But now that you are reconciled to God, all is changed; you hear another voice saying, "As many as I love, I rebuke and chasten." Henceforth, therefore, you may accept trials as love-tokens, for "whom the Lord loveth he chasteneth." Perhaps, like Jonah, you have been sitting with great delight under the shadow of your gourd. To give you joy and comfort in the desert, God caused it to spring up. You felt glad and even thankful because of its pleasant shade, and while you rested under its shadow songs of praise ascended to the Giver. Yet "God prepared a worm." You woke one morning to find your beautiful gourd all withered. Never did the desert seem more dreary. You fainted under God's smiting, and with aching and rebellious heart you prayed for death. There seemed to be nothing for which to live, and you said, "It is better for me to die than to live." "Doest thou well to be angry for the gourd?" There are times when God shows his mercy to us by turning a deaf ear to our foolish prayer. No, I should not say he turneth a deaf ear to our prayer. He does hear, and he does answer, but not according to our asking. You asked death; he sent grace to live. "It is better for me to die," you said. God, by sparing your life, said most plainly, "It is better for you to live." God knows best. If you are still mourning over your smitten gourd, permit us to give you some reasons why you should no longer mourn, or, at least, why you should not murmur. Remember, the gourd was undeserved. You had done nothing to merit such a blessing. Perhaps even when it came it found you, like Jonah, indulging in bitter, reproachful thoughts. Wayward and wandering were you; loving and tender was God. Earthly parents bestow most tenderness and anxious thought upon the erring child. The Good Shepherd leaves the ninety and nine to search for the straying one. These things but faintly illustrate the dealings of God with his children. Perhaps you were in the path of duty, and were not unthankful while you rested under the gourd. Still, you know that you deserve not the least of all God's mercies. Your sufferings are less than your sins deserve. "He hath not dealt with us after our sins, nor rewarded us according to our iniquities." "Wherefore doth a living man complain?" Let then this thought silence your complaints. Remember also that the hand that smote the gourd was the hand of your Father, your loving Father. And this thought surely will give you comfort in your sorrow, and will even cause you by and by to sing aloud for joy. Knowing full well that "he doth not afflict willingly," you seek to know why he thus dealt with you. It ought to be enough for you to know that "_God_ prepared a worm." "What I do thou knowest not now, but thou shalt know hereafter," should make us dumb before him, but so great is his condescension toward them that love him that he even tells them _why_ the smiting was necessary. Your heart was fully set upon the gourd, and you were "Making a heaven down under the sun." It may be that there was very little of the pilgrim spirit in your heart. The heart-tendrils were firmly fastened around the gourd; its uprooting seemed to rend you in twain. Bitter and severe was the pain, but the hand that dealt the blow is ready to bind up the bleeding wound, and in after days you will love to look upon this scar, for you will cherish it as a sweet reminder of God's faithfulness and mercy--not only as a monument, but also as a warning, for whenever you look upon it, it will say to you, "Little children, keep yourselves from idols." Have you ever noticed the old grave stones in some English burial-garden? The damp climate, which so soon obliterates the letters, has a kindly way of dealing with the horizontal stones. Into the deep grooves of the lettering little seeds are carried by the wind, and, lodging there, the dampness soon causes them to germinate, and in place of the blackness of decay spring up the characters in living green. Into the deep scars caused by God's sharp instruments the precious seeds of divine consolation shall be wafted. Watered by your tears, they shall soon spring up, and in your sweet submission others will read your testimony to God's faithfulness: "I know, O Lord, that thy judgments are right, and that thou in faithfulness hast afflicted me." When God uproots the gourd he gives us something better, and "our light affliction, which is but for a moment, worketh for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory." If Paul could call his calamities "light," surely we may; for what are our trials when compared with his? Behold what a crushing load he carried! "In labors more abundant, in stripes above measure, in prisons more frequent, in deaths oft. Of the Jews five times received I forty stripes save one. Thrice was I beaten with rods, once was I stoned, thrice I suffered shipwreck, a night and a day I have been in the deep, in journeyings often, in perils of waters, in perils of robbers, in perils by mine own countrymen, in perils by the heathen, in perils in the city, in perils in the wilderness, in perils in the sea, in perils among false brethren; in weariness and painfulness, in watchings often, in hunger and thirst, in fastings often, in cold and nakedness." Oh what a life! How could he call all these afflictions light? Placed in the balance with the exceeding weight of glory, they seemed as naught. The afflictions were but for a moment; the glory was eternal. "Many are the afflictions of the righteous, but the Lord delivereth him out of them all. He keepeth all his bones: not one of them is broken. Evil shall slay the wicked: and they that hate the righteous shall be desolate. The Lord redeemeth the soul of his servants; and none of them that trust in him shall be desolate." Then "wait on the Lord; be of good courage, and he shall strengthen thy heart: wait, I say, on the Lord." And let your meditation be sweet when you consider Him who smites the gourd in order that he may lead you to the shadow of the great Rock. "When my heart is overwhelmed, lead me to the Rock that is higher than I." [Illustration] [Illustration] VI. _The Compassion._ "My meditation of him shall be sweet" _when I remember his compassion_ for the multitude. It was a beautiful thought to compile a record of loving and heroic deeds, of all lands and ages, and to entitle it, "A Book of Golden Deeds." Florence Nightingale, whose picture adorns the opening page, stands forth a fit exponent of the spirit of love that prompted these recorded acts. The record of Christ's life may truly be called "A Book of Golden Deeds;" and that blessed name, which is above every name, becomes the symbol of "whatsoever things are lovely and of good report." The works which mark his earthly career are wonderful beyond compare, and the crowning act of this life of perfect self-abnegation is the greatest mystery of love. It was noble in Dick Williamzoon, the Netherland martyr, when safely over the frozen mere, to turn back, at the peril of his life, and rescue his pursuer, whom he saw about to perish in the waters. He saved his enemy, and was himself captured and burned at the stake--a martyr for mercy as well as for truth. It was nobler still in the Moravian missionary to enter the hospital in order to preach Christ to the lepers. "If you go in, you can never be allowed to come out." "I accept," he said, and entered, to go out no more. But the compassion of Jesus towers far above the devotion of mortals, and expresses itself in a manner which excites wonder in heaven and upon earth. Looking down from his heavenly throne, his heart was deeply affected by the ruin of our race. One blow of the arch-destroyer had marred God's fair creation--man. Could no hand restore what in one dark hour had been lost? O mighty Restorer! we wonder and adore. "He left his lofty throne, And threw his robes aside; On wings of love came down, And wept and bled and died." Yes, girding himself with full strength, he descended to the work his loving heart devised. Humbling himself to bear our sins, he became our Saviour. Not satisfied with simply bearing the sins of his people, he also carried their sorrows, and so becomes their Sympathizer. "Surely he has borne our griefs" as well as our guilt. He became "a Man of Sorrows" in order that from henceforth and for ever his followers might have not exemption from all sorrow, but a Saviour who would be able to sustain them fully in their afflictions, even lifting them so far above their sorrows that at midnight and in prison they might sing praises. Gazing along the line of centuries, the omniscient Jesus saw a mighty multitude of bowed and suffering ones--in sickness, in pains, in poverty and chains; inheritors of "cruel mockings and scourgings, yea, moreover, of bonds and imprisonment;" those whose portion should be to be stoned, "sawn asunder," tempted, "slain with the sword;" who should wander about "in sheep-skins and goat-skins, being destitute, afflicted, tormented." Seeing these, is it any wonder if his heart melted with tenderness? In the simple story of his life we read: "And Jesus went forth and saw a great multitude, and was moved with compassion toward them, and he healed their sick." "In all their affliction he was afflicted." Blessed be our High Priest who is still "touched with the feeling of our infirmities!" When his life on earth ended and he returned to the glory which he had with the Father before the world was, he left us an example that we should walk in his steps. To his disciples belongs the honor of taking up and carrying forward the work of ministration. Partakers of Christ's love and sympathy "look not every man on his own things, but every man also on the things of others. Let the same mind be in you which was also in Christ Jesus," who "took upon him the form of a servant." "He that saith he abideth in him, ought himself also to walk even as he walked." How did he walk? Study well the memorial of "golden deeds." Compare your life with his. How can you bear the test? Nothing can be more beautiful than a life of self-abnegation. One single act of devotion to another's good is like a ray of golden sunshine in a darkened room, and a life of such deeds may well be called a golden life. Into the cabin of one of our government transports was borne a poor wounded soldier, who, with many others, was going home to die. He had just been laid in the middle berth--by far the most comfortable of the three tiers of berths in the ship's cabin--and was still thrilling with the pain of being carried from the field, when he saw a comrade in even greater suffering than himself about to be lifted to the berth above him, and, thinking of the pain it would cost him to be raised so high, he exclaimed, "Put me up there; I reckon I'll bear hoisting better than he will." Where can we find sufficient inspiration for a life of devotion to others? "Act as if the eyes of Cato were always upon you," was urged upon the Roman youth to stimulate him to virtuous deeds. Act as if the eyes of Jesus were upon you, we urge, for surely he bends from his throne to watch you as you endeavor to tread the path your Saviour trod. To some of us God has given leisure from arduous toil, wealth, talents and many opportunities for usefulness. Perhaps to all these gifts he has added strong faith and bright hopes of heaven. What, then, are our duties to the poor and ignorant, the weary and feeble ones? "Strengthen ye the weak hands and confirm the feeble knees. Say to them that are of a feeble heart, Be strong; fear not." Remember, and forget it not, ye favored ones, that "unto whomsoever much is given, of him shall much be required." Let nothing be hoarded. "Withhold not good from them to whom it is due, when it is in the power of thine hand to do it." Nature's and the Gospels' doctrine is, "Be ready to distribute, willing to communicate." Looking up at the twelve silver statues in Yorkminster cathedral, Oliver Cromwell asked, "Who are those expensive fellows up there?" He was told that they were the apostles of Christ. "Ah? let them be taken down and melted up," said the old Puritan; "then they, like their Master, will go about doing good." It is said that in China the rich buy up and distribute clothing to the poor, and in times of scarcity of food, through the kindness of the rich, rice is sold to the poor at a third or fourth less than the market price. This is done to win the favor of the gods. While we do not hope to purchase God's favor by anything that we can do, yet we may remember the words of the Lord Jesus, how he said, "Whosoever shall give to drink unto one of these little ones a cup of cold water only, in the name of a disciple, verily I say unto you, He shall in nowise lose his reward." "And they that be wise shall shine in the brightness of the firmament, and they that turn many to righteousness, as the stars for ever and ever." Let us daily strive to imitate our Master in compassion for others; then shall our meditation prove profitable as well as pleasant. [Illustration] VII. _The Sympathy._ "My meditation of him shall be sweet" _when I remember his sympathy_ with his chosen ones. To have a friend who is ready to rejoice with us when we rejoice, and to weep with us when we weep, how delightful it is! It doubles our every joy and divides our every sorrow. Though some hearts seem to scorn this tender plant of heavenly origin, we believe that none are wholly insensible to the magic power of sympathy. Those who scorn it most are often led to crave it most when the days of bitter grief draw near. We call it a plant of heavenly origin, and so it is; for though it is often found in unrenewed hearts, yet it attains its fairest perfection in hearts regenerated by the Holy Spirit. Planted by the hand of God and watered by heavenly dews, it reaches its greatest height, and wins the admiration of many who fail to understand the secret source of its life. But human sympathy, even the deepest and tenderest, often fails us in the hour of our greatest need. Who will say that Peter and the two sons of Zebedee were not friends of the Lord Jesus? Certainly they loved him, for they followed him whithersoever he went. Feeling his need of human sympathy--for he was the man Christ Jesus--he took them with him to Gethsemane. All he asked was that they should watch with him. "Tarry ye here, and watch with me." Did they watch? You know the record well. "And he cometh unto the disciples and findeth them asleep, and saith unto Peter, What, could ye not watch with me one hour?" When brought to our Gethsemane, is not our experience something like our Master's? Where we looked for sympathy we find indifference; we are there alone. Perhaps our sorrow may be of such a nature that we cannot reveal it even to our best-beloved. Our secret grief lies like ice upon our hearts, sending its chilling influences through every member. The hands hang down listlessly and the feeble knees smite together; the aching of the head is only exceeded by the aching of the heart. Yet no one knows the agony that paralyzes our life. Or, sadder still, the heart-friend may be snatched away, and while our hearts are breaking by reason of bereavement, we may have no one left to whom we may turn for comfort in our affliction. Is there no friend whose sympathy is deep, ever abiding and ever accessible? Thank God, there is One. His name is Jesus. In all our afflictions he is afflicted. He suffered that he might sympathize. Coming to a race concerning whom it was written "few are their days and full of trouble," "it behooved him to be made like unto his brethren," therefore he accepted the inheritance of suffering, and became "a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief." "Himself took our infirmities." Is poverty your portion? Is it no uncommon thing for you to suffer hunger, cold and weariness? Do friends forsake and foes oppress you? Go and tell Jesus. Though no longer suffering the sorrows of earth, he remembers them well. Think you that _he_ has forgotten those wilderness seasons when he suffered hunger; or those times of weary watching on the mountains; or that dark night when "all the disciples forsook him and fled;" or that sad hour when his Father forsook him? Though gone to God's right hand he is the same Jesus still. His heart is full of love and pity. "He knoweth our frame," for he has put on our humanity. He put on our humanity; he has never put it off. "Behold the Man!" "And I beheld, and lo, in the midst of the throne, and of the four beasts, and in the midst of the elders, stood a Lamb as it had been slain." "And I heard the voice of many angels round about the throne, and the beasts, and the elders; and the number of them was ten thousand times ten thousand, and thousands of thousands; saying with a loud voice, Worthy is the Lamb that was slain to receive power, and riches, and wisdom, and strength, and honor, and glory, and blessing." And is he absorbed by this homage? I tell thee nay. Let us recall that parting scene at Olivet. His days of suffering are now ended, and he is about to return to the glory which he had with the Father before the world was. A few words of parting, and then a cloud separates him from his sorrowing disciples. A cloud, the record tells us. So it appeared to them; to us it seems rather a company of shining ones--a heavenly convoy sent to attend King Jesus back to his heavenly throne. In the midst of the homage of this heavenly host he does not forget his sorrowful disciples, but arrests the glad song for a moment that he may send words of comfort down to them. "And while they looked steadfastly toward heaven as he went up, behold, two men stood by them in white apparel, which also said, Ye men of Galilee, why stand ye gazing up into heaven? This same Jesus which is taken up from you into heaven shall so come in like manner as ye have seen him go into heaven." _This same Jesus_ is not now absorbed by the homage of that "great multitude which no man could number." Surrounded by those "which came out of great tribulation," can he for a moment forget those who are going through great tribulation? He does not forget them. The hand that was nailed to the cross is still swift to obey the impulses of that great heart of love, and hastens to wipe away the tear that gathers in the mourner's eye, to bind up the broken heart and to smooth the pillow of the dying. We cannot read the record of Christ's earthly life without perceiving that his sympathy with suffering was deep and constant. Failing to comprehend this, some may add to your grief by uttering these chilling words: "Trouble not the Master." Remember, and forget not the broken-hearted father whose "only daughter" died before the help of the Good Physician could be obtained. There comes one from the ruler's house saying unto him, "Thy daughter is dead; trouble not the Master." The mournful message is heard by the Master, and turning to the sorrowing father, he said, "Fear not; believe only, and she shall be made whole." How speedily joy came into that darkened home when Jesus entered and took the maiden by the hand! Little know they that great heart of love who say to the sorrowful, "Trouble not the Master." Young disciple, heed them not. Think no sorrow too trifling to pour into his sympathizing ear. Whatever troubles you interests him. "In all their affliction he was afflicted." No tear falls unnoticed by him; no sigh escapes unheard. He keepeth you "as the apple of his eye." What encouragement to carry your griefs to Jesus! Satan would suggest that we "trouble not the Master." He trembles to see such close communion between Christ and the Christian. He knows that his power over the Saviour's "hidden ones" is fast passing away, and he would be glad to raise all chilling barriers to their delightful intercourse. "Get thee behind me, Satan!" My Saviour invites, yea, urges, me to come to him with all my sorrows, and I will cast all my cares on him, for he careth for me. "It is good for me to draw near to God." Again and again have I found it good--oh how good! All sympathy is sweet, but his sympathy is exceeding sweet. Yes, so sweet is it that trouble is no longer trouble, because Christ shares it with me. He changes the "valley of Baca" into the "land Beulah." He gives me songs in the night, and his presence turns my darkness into day. "Trouble not the Master." I tell you, Satan, it is no trouble for the Master to care for me; no trouble to soothe my sorrowing spirit; no trouble to wipe away my tears; no trouble to pillow my aching head upon his bosom; no trouble to give me "beauty for ashes, the oil of joy for mourning, the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness." Many and many a time has he done this, blessed be his name! Nothing troubles him but my sins. Would to God they might trouble him no more! They grieve him; then let me forsake them. By his help I will. Begone, unbelief, pride, worldliness, ingratitude--begone! It is ye that trouble my Master! [Illustration] VIII. _The Love._ "My meditation of him shall be sweet" _when I consider his love for me_. The record of Christ's deeds of mercy toward a multitude of sick and suffering ones gives us a wonderful glimpse of his heart. The thought of his perfect sympathy with his people has comforted the Church in all ages. But draw a little nearer and consider his _personal love for you_, dear young Christian. Listen to his voice saying so tenderly, "I have loved thee." Forget for a moment the multitude that need his compassion and the disciples who share his sympathy, and try to realize his deep, personal love for you. Consider that love as shown on Calvary. Remember the great price he has paid for your redemption. During the dark days of the Netherland revolt there went forth a decree from the cruel Philip the Second; and though many a bloody edict had gone out before from that throne, this one in cruelty exceeded them all, for it condemned to death all the inhabitants of the Netherlands. "Heretic" was branded upon every one, and, without respect to age or sex, they were doomed to destruction. Now, if a mighty deliverer could have traversed those gloomy streets proclaiming full deliverance for those who were condemned, with what joy would he have been hailed! Not only would the public thanks of the nation have been his, but each rescued one would have hastened to express his own thanks to his deliverer. Let then your heart overflow with grateful love when you remember the great Deliverer. "Guilty" was branded upon every forehead when Jesus came to the rescue; and while the thanks of all the redeemed are ascending to the throne, let your praises unite with theirs, for you too were under condemnation when Jesus offered pardon. His terms were simple--"only believe;" and through the grace of God you were led to accept the offer of everlasting life. "There is therefore now no condemnation," for the Son hath made you free. "No condemnation!" How sweet it sounds! How much it means! Christ hath fulfilled the Law's requirements, and you are free. As we meditate upon it we seem to hear the Saviour saying, "Lovest thou me?" Dear Lord Jesus, we cannot love thee as thou hast loved us. A mother's love is as naught when compared with thy love, for she _may_ forget, but thou hast said thou wilt never forget us. But yet our hearts cherish most fondly this secret of thy love to us. "I have loved thee with an everlasting love." It gives us joy in our loneliest hours. We love to think about it when we are all alone. Never are we less alone than when alone, for then it is we hear the sweetest whispers that ever fell on mortal ears. And when we hear the voice of our Beloved, can we be indifferent to his love? I tell thee, nay. Love, a faint reflection of his own, rises in our heart, and falling on our knees before him, we exclaim, "Lord, thou knowest all things; thou knowest that I love thee." Sadly we feel that it is a poor spark of love--nothing like his great love to us--yet we rejoice that the little spark is there, and pray that it may be kindled into a steady flame. "Lord, thou knowest all things." Oh how glad we are of this! Thou knowest every emotion of our heart toward thee. Thou knowest our grief because we do not love thee more. But this meditation has its practical bearings. We may not always dwell upon the high mountain apart thinking about our Saviour's love. Let our communion with Christ be as close and confidential as possible, but let us never forget that He who spent whole nights communing with his Father also spent whole days ministering to others. Let, then, the love of Christ constrain us. Standing safely upon the Rock Christ Jesus, let our hearts go out in pity for those who are still breasting the billows. Faint and exhausted, they seem ready to perish. "Help, Master, help!" Let our prayers for them ascend unceasingly. The Master is not far off, and in answer to our prayers he will come and rescue them with his strong arm. Let the love of Christ constrain us to labor for the perishing around us. This is our working-time, and this principle of love is the life of our work. This word "constrain" has several meanings. It might be thus expressed: "The love of Christ transports us." It carries away our souls in ecstasy even from earth to heaven, and fills us with holy rapture. How often at the table of the Lord have we been thus transported by thoughts of his everlasting love! And as we went on our pilgrim way we cast frequent glances back to that hour of heavenly brightness. Earth grew dim during those moments of holy communion. Fain would we have tabernacled there. The love of Christ _urges_ us, _prompts_ us. Sweet it will be to rest in the arms of his love. But this rest remaineth; we have not yet reached it; to the present belong toil and labor. There must be no loitering in the Christian life. Where the love of Christ fills the heart there can be no loitering. It is a prompting principle, ever leading us to new endeavors for the Master. The love of Christ _unites_ us. Though diversities of opinion mark those who bear the Christian name, yet, if the Saviour's love fills our hearts, we have one common platform where we may meet and hold sweet fellowship. Our experience is the same: "we love him because he first loved us." Our Hope is the same: Christ in us, "the hope of glory." Our home is the same: "and there shall be one fold." Our Shepherd is the same: "and I will set up one Shepherd over them." And though our creeds may differ, our chorus is the same: "Thou art worthy, for thou wast slain, and hast redeemed us to God by thy blood out of every kindred, and tongue, and people, and nation." Angels and archangels round the throne join in the heavenly melody, saying, with a loud voice, "Worthy is the Lamb that was slain to receive power, and riches, and wisdom, and strength, and honor, and glory, and blessing." "And every creature which is in heaven, and on the earth, and under the earth, and such as are in the sea, and all that are in them," being united by the love of Christ, join in the song which celebrates his wondrous love. [Illustration] IX. _The Life Abundant._ "My meditation of him shall be sweet" _when I consider the life more abundant which he gives_. We are amazed at the languid, feeble lives of many around us. Among the aged we naturally look for inactivity, but, alas! "even the youths" faint and are weary, and the young men utterly fall. Before "the time of old age" the grasshopper becomes a burden, and we hear the young exclaiming, in world-weary tones, "I have no pleasure in them." They said in their hearts, "Go to, now; I will prove thee with mirth; therefore enjoy pleasure." And behold they found it vanity. They builded houses, and planted vineyards, and gathered silver and gold; but, looking back on all the works their hands have wrought, they are compelled to acknowledge that all is vanity and vexation of spirit. Therefore they hate life and all their labor which they have taken "under the sun." "For what," say they, "hath man of all his labor, and of the vexation of his heart, wherein he hath labored under the sun? For all his days are sorrows, and his travail grief; yea, his heart taketh not rest in the night. This also is vanity." How marked and beautiful the change when Jesus takes possession of these weary souls! "I am come," says the Master, "that they might have life, and that they might have it _more abundantly_"--life in greater quantity; "good measure, pressed down, and shaken together, and running over." We hear much about the power of love to arouse the dormant faculties and animate the feeble spirit. When this love is the dear, deep love of Jesus, who can estimate its life-giving power? Truly, we hardly begin to live till Jesus reveals himself to us--until, kneeling at his cross, we consecrate to him our time, our talents and our all. From henceforth life has for us new beauty, because Jesus is the charm of our life. Life "more abundantly!" Let us enter more deeply into the meaning of these words. Let us understand that religion does not close the door upon any lawful calling. The days of religious seclusion are long past, but the days have not yet come when men have fully learned that daily business is not antagonistic to Christian life, but that it is one of the means of its development. It has been truly said that there have been noble bands of Christians who have gone to heaven despising ambition, refusing crowns, disdaining sceptres, unwilling to be cumbered with wealth, willing to bear hardship and suffering; but there shall be another band of men who shall do more mighty things than they--men of higher grace who shall conquer enemies more strong and terrible, who shall go to heaven even with crowns and sceptres or with great wealth. Through abounding grace they learn Christian development in spite of, and by means of, those external things which cause the spiritual shipwreck of multitudes. Let the spirit of the Saviour, dwelling in us richly, sanctify all commerce, all learning, all politics, all art. May religion dignify our every act. Religion was not simply designed for the dying hour. "Christ shall be magnified in my body, whether it be by life or by death." "For to me _to live_ is Christ." Dear Lord Jesus, thou hast showed me "the path of life," and by thy presence, even on earth, thou hast given me "fullness of joy." Thou hast given me power when faint, and "increased strength" when I had no might. Therefore my life shall praise thee. "A new creature" in Christ, henceforth I will not live unto myself, but unto Him which died for me and rose again, "for the love of Christ constraineth me." [Illustration] [Illustration] X. _The Forgiveness._ "My meditation of him shall be sweet" _when I consider the full and free forgiveness he imparts_. The hour in which we first felt the joy of sins forgiven can never be forgotten. The burden had grown so heavy that we could carry it no longer, so, bending the knee at the foot of the cross, the burden was cast upon Christ. For many days our joy and peace were so great that we fondly hoped to be burdened no more; but as old wounds often break out anew, so it is with the soul, and the memory of "sins that are past" often sweeps over the Christian like a bitter wave. Daily sins cause daily grief to the heart that loves the Lord. The only way of peace is to carry them at once to Jesus, confess all and seek forgiveness. We never seek in vain. But these past sins, these iniquities of our youth, how they rise up to condemn us and take away our peace! "Thou writest bitter things against me," saith Job, "and makest me possess the iniquities of my youth." "My sin is ever before me," cries David in the bitterness of his soul. It must have been a lifelong grief to Peter that he had denied his Lord and Master. Others might easily forget his hour of weakness and sin while they listened to his fearless words on the day of Pentecost and heard him exclaim, "Him, being delivered by the determinate counsel and foreknowledge of God, ye have taken, and by wicked hands have crucified and slain." But though others could forget, how often must Peter's soul have been saddened by the memory of his weakness and sin! Sounding along the corridors of memory, ever and anon these words, "I know not the man," must have smote upon his ears like a funeral knell. The recollection of that look of love must often have brought tears to his eyes and filled his heart with tender grief. How many of us recall with deepest sorrow hours of weakness when, yielding to strong temptation, we fell into sin! Perhaps no eye but God's marked our wandering steps, no ear but his heard our words of sin, no heart but his read the dark secret. The hour of true contrition came when, ashamed and deeply grieved, we scarcely ventured to look up to our offended Father, but casting our tearful eyes upon the ground, we knelt and cried in anguish, "Thou hast set our iniquities before thee, our secret sins in the light of thy countenance." Remembering that "if we confess our sins he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness," we freely confessed all, and in the deep peace that followed we found a fulfillment of the promise. "I acknowledge my sin unto thee, and mine iniquity have I not hid. I said, I will confess my transgressions unto the Lord, and thou forgavest the iniquity of my sin." But though the Lord is "ready to forgive," and "plenteous in mercy" unto all them that call upon him, yet these past sins are weapons that the great adversary often uses successfully in his warfare with the pilgrims, causing many almost to stand still when they should be running in the way of God's commandments. Think you that our God desires from us constant mourning over "sins that are past?" If these are to lie a perpetual burden on our hearts, robbing us of our peace and clouding our hopes of heaven, what advantage then hath the Christian? or what profit is there in the atonement of Christ? We have somewhere heard of a chemist who was lecturing before his class. A number of rags of varied hue lay before him, and by means of strong chemicals he was changing their colors into whiteness. Presently he paused, and holding up a piece of Turkey red, he remarked, "Ah! now we shall have some trouble, for of all colors this is the hardest to extract." Again and again he dipped it into the strong solution, but with little effect; then cast it aside, saying, "It must either remain as it is, or else lie in the solution till its very fibres are destroyed." But the blood of Christ has power to extract even scarlet stains. "Though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be white as snow; though they be red like crimson, they shall be as wool." Then "why art thou cast down, O my soul?" for "the righteousness of God, which is by faith of Jesus Christ unto all them that believe," is "for the remission of sins that are past," as well as for the constantly recurring sins of the present. Shall we, then, never think of our past sins? Yes; think of them as the mariner thinks of dangers past, and as the redeemed in glory think of past tribulations. "He maketh the storm a calm, so that the waves thereof are still. Then are they glad because they be quiet; so he bringeth them unto their desired haven." Yes; think of them with gratitude to God for deliverance, and let this be your song as you press on: "He sent from above, he took me; he drew me out of many waters: he delivered me from my strong enemy, and from them that hated me; for they were too strong for me." "When I said, My foot slippeth, thy mercy, O Lord, held me up." "The Lord is my rock, and my fortress, and my deliverer; the God of my rock: in him will I trust; he is my shield, and the horn of my salvation, my high tower, and my refuge, my Saviour." "For who is a God, save the Lord? and who is a rock, save our God? Therefore I will give thanks unto thee, O Lord, among the heathen, and I will sing praises unto thy name." Think of them, also, with humility and self-distrust, and let this be your constant prayer: "Hold up my goings in thy paths, that my footsteps slip not." "Keep me as the apple of the eye; hide me under the shadow of thy wings." But oh do not carry the memory of past sins as a weight to drag your soul down to the dust! If the Lord has forgiven and forgotten them, why not rejoice in this wonderful token of his love toward you? Casting aside every weight, you may thus rise to the enjoyment of "a present heaven." [Illustration] [Illustration] XI. _The Help._ "My meditation of him shall be sweet" _when I remember the stones of help he has given_. For forty days the champion of the Philistines had defied the armies of Israel. He was a man of great stature--a giant--and a man of war from his youth. "And all the men of Israel, when they saw the man, fled from him and were sore afraid." All, yet not all, for one accepted Goliath's challenge and stepped forth to battle with him. Who was he? The strongest, bravest and oldest veteran in the army? No; he was not a soldier, but a shepherd-boy, and too young to be enrolled. "A stripling" the king calls him, and his weapons are only "_five smooth_ _stones_!" Is it any wonder that his elder brother chided him and that Goliath disdained him? Trusting in the Lord who delivered him out of the paw of the lion and out of the paw of the bear, he went forth confident of victory. He took a stone from his bag and put it in his sling, and buried it in the giant's forehead so that he fell prostrate to the ground. How wonderful! There are giants still in the land--giant powers that defy the armies of the living God. There are giant sins and giant fears that throw themselves across the path of every Christian and threaten his destruction. And if this page shall meet the eye of some youthful warrior who would fain overcome those spiritual foes that challenge the soul, permit me to choose five smooth stones for you, with which you shall prevail to lay the giants low. _The presence of God_ is one of these stones: "Thou God seest me." Sometimes, like David's first stone, it is enough to kill the Goliath of temptation. When sinners entice us, there is power enough to defend us in the thought that the many eyes of the Most High are looking on us, and the soul starts back appalled, saying, "How then can I do this great wickedness, and sin against God?" _The power of God_ is another of these precious stones. David declined to go forth to battle with Saul's armor. He could not go with weapons which he had not proved, but he took to himself "the whole armor of God." He had proved it, and knew by experience that there was more than protection in that panoply. Goliath was a giant, but he was not God. He was mighty, but he was not almighty. He was potent, but he was not omnipotent. _The wisdom of God_ is still another of these stones. The mighty man of Gath was mailed from head to foot. He was completely covered with a coat of iron and brass. His whole body was protected; only his forehead was left exposed that he might be able to see his antagonist. And, strange to say, the first smooth stone went straight to this only place where it could harm him, "and sunk into his forehead." God's wisdom guided it to its own place. _The faithfulness of God_ is another of these stones. In his holy word he has made unto us many exceeding great and precious promises, and his faithfulness ensures their fulfillment. He will do as he said. Heaven and earth may pass away, but his promises shall never pass away. If ordinary means will not suffice for their accomplishment, miracles shall be wrought. The sun and moon shall stand still, if need be. Taking the past as pledge of the future, "there shall not fail one good word of all that the Lord our God hath spoken." _The love of God_ is the last stone of help. "And the last shall be first." It is the smoothest and most precious of the five. There is some gold in all the others, but this one is all gold, and the most fine gold. In the presence, power, wisdom and faithfulness of God much love is mingled. He goes with us and upholds us and guides us and remembers his covenant because he loves us, so that our last thought crowns and comprehends all the others. The love of God is first and last and best. Presence, power, wisdom, faithfulness and love, these five; but the greatest of these is love. [Illustration] [Illustration] XII. _The Deliverance._ "My meditation of him shall be sweet" _when I consider him as my Deliverer_. How dense the gloom that gathers round the record of Adam's sin and fall! Reading this chapter without the cross before our eyes, it seems the saddest in all the inspired volume. Issuing from the abyss of woe, Satan has found an entrance into a newly-created world. Sin and death have bridged the gulf that separated earth from hell, and are swift to follow in Satan's track, eager to complete the ruin his hellish hate devised. Fiends from the pit rejoice, while angels, with grief-clouded faces, gaze upon the guilty pair. "Adam, where art thou?" Sinful man hears the summons, and, compelled by power divine, appears in the presence of his offended Maker. "Can any hide himself in secret places that I shall not see him? saith the Lord." "Though they hide themselves in the top of Carmel, I will search and take them out hence." Truly, "there is no darkness, nor shadow of death, where the workers of iniquity may hide themselves." But when we read this record in the light of the cross, our grief speedily changes into gladness. That the promise made to Satan, "Thou shalt bruise his heel," has not been retracted, each disciple of Christ can testify. The old enmity hissed forth by the arch-apostate and his followers when the almighty Arm hurled them into their own place, has not yet been destroyed. The conflict, begun in Paradise, between the seed of the woman and the serpent--that conflict darkly shadowed forth in the mythology of heathen nations and painfully experienced by each regenerate heart--is raging still. "O wretched man that I am! who shall deliver me from the body of this death?" cries the Christian. "O my Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me!" prays the Christian's Lord and Master. That the bruising is not light, Gethsemane and Calvary bear mournful testimony. Nevertheless, it is not vital. Thou mayest bruise his heel, Satan, but not his head. From the abode of demons a yell of triumph must have risen when the Light of Life was extinguished on the cross. But the triumph was short-lived. "Rejoice not against me, O mine enemy; when I fall, I shall arise." "That which thou sowest is not quickened except it die." "Thou shalt bruise his heel" because Omnipotence allows it, for "it pleased the Lord to bruise him," but "it shall bruise thy head." "Traveling in the greatness of his strength," Jesus plants his feet upon the necks of his enemies and chains the captives to his triumphal car. The Lion of the tribe of Judah has seized the prey. "Judah, thou art he whom his brethren shall praise." "Let all the people praise thee, O God; let all the people praise thee." And those who will not render him willing homage shall be trampled under the wheels of his advancing chariot. "But these mine enemies, which would not that I should reign over them, bring hither, and slay them before me." Shiloh, the Pacificator, has come; and though the conflict has not ceased, the combatants are already singing the conqueror's song. What meaneth this shout of triumph that cometh up from the battle-field? It is the voice of them that shout for the mastery. They go forth singing, "Thanks be unto God, which giveth us the victory, through our Lord Jesus Christ." We hear their song above the clash of arms; amid the smoke of the battle-field we see their look of quiet confidence; and as they fall in the conflict they shout, "O Death, where is thy sting? O Grave, where is thy victory?" From heaven above is now proclaimed the blessing above the curse; and though Eden was lost through the disobedience of Adam, Paradise shall be regained through the obedience of Christ. Mercy closed Eden's gate. "Behold, saith the Lord, the man is become as one of us, to know good and evil; and now, lest he put forth his hand, and take also of the tree of life, and eat, and live for ever, therefore the Lord God sent him forth from the garden of Eden." Life everlasting, even in the garden of Eden, would be no boon to a sin-stricken race. The gates are open now not only "that the King of Glory may come in," but also for "the generation of them that seek him, that seek thy face, O God of Jacob." "They shall ascend into the hill of the Lord;" they "shall stand in his holy place." [Illustration] XIII. _The Hearer of Prayer._ "My meditation of him shall be sweet" _when I consider him as the Hearer and Answerer of prayer_; for his promises concerning prayer are many, making us "always confident" when we come to the throne of the heavenly grace. Surely, every Christian may approach with confidence, saying in his heart, "My God will hear me." He may adopt the language of full assurance and say, "Father, I know that thou hearest me always." The Bible abounds in promises relating to prayer. We also find there many illustrations of God's willingness to answer the prayers of his children. But some may say, "Notwithstanding the promises which appear so positive, we do not always receive that for which we ask." There are many reasons why this is so. Sometimes our motive in asking is wrong. "Ye ask, and receive not, because ye ask amiss." Sometimes we do not ask in faith, consequently, no answer comes; for thus reads the faithful promise: "All things whatsoever ye shall ask in prayer, _believing_, ye shall receive." Therefore "ask in faith, nothing wavering." There is another reason why we do not always receive the things for which we ask. In our ignorance and short-sightedness we often ask for that which God in his wisdom sees would be hurtful to us. Loving us with more than a mother's love, he withholds the evil which seems to us good, and sends the good which seems to us evil. Though God's providence may seem to contradict his promise, yet this is a faithful saying: "No good thing will he withhold from them that walk uprightly." The wicked often prosper for a time. "They are not in trouble as other men; neither are they plagued like other men. Their eyes stand out with fatness, they have more than heart can wish. Behold, these are the ungodly who prosper in the world; they increase in riches." How shall we solve this seeming contradiction? Suppose we cannot solve it. Shall we therefore arraign the justice of God? Shall we reject the promise because we cannot understand it in the light of God's providence? Oh, not so. Let us remember that now we know only in part. But do we not often forget the condition of this promise? Do we not make the promise void by our unworthy walking? "No good thing will he withhold from them that walk _uprightly_." "If ye abide in me, and my words abide in you, ye shall ask what ye will, and it shall be done unto you." We must remember that God's standard of judging between good and evil is very different from ours. In this our thoughts are not as God's thoughts. We call poverty, sorrow, sickness and bereavement evil; God often shows us that they are good. We ask health; in answer God sends sickness, which he blesses to the healing of all our spiritual maladies. He can make our sick-chambers very Pisgahs, so that we shall thank him for sickness. Sometimes in our weariness and discouragement we pray for death. God in answer sends sufficient grace. He maketh our feet "like hind's feet," equal to the way. Is not his "a more excellent way?" It seems to us every Christian should be satisfied with answers like these. Is it not better to have our portion appointed by God? It is better when praying for temporal blessings always to say, in spirit if not in words, "Nevertheless, not my will, but thine be done." There are some things for which you may ask without any limitations, and these are spiritual gifts; "for this is the will of God, even your sanctification." You may also have this confidence when praying for the conversion of friends. God has provided salvation sufficient for all. In our Father's house there is room enough, and in our Father's heart there is love enough, for all. None need perish with hunger. "As I live, saith the Lord God, I have no pleasure in the death of the wicked; but that the wicked should turn from his way and live." If, then, you have a desire in your heart for the conversion of a soul, be assured that God awakened that desire. It is a token of his readiness to bless. "Have faith in God," "and wait on thy God continually." Plead till the answer comes; "though it tarry, wait for it." "What things soever ye desire when ye pray, believe that ye receive them, and ye shall have them." [Illustration] XIV. _The Reward._ "My meditation of him shall be sweet" _when I think of his reward for faithful labor_. The weariness of work is often very great, but if sufficient recompense follows our endeavors, if success crowns our working, we soon forget past toils, "for the desire accomplished is sweet to the soul." But if we can see no good resulting from our labors, disappointment and grief increase our fatigue. Yes, the weariness of grief far exceeds the weariness of successful labors, though they may be "labors more abundant," "in season" and "out of season." The faithful minister of Christ will here bear me witness, for of all times of exhaustion he will acknowledge this to be the greatest, when he goes from the pulpit to the closet with this despairing cry: "Who hath believed our report?" "Master, we have toiled all the night and have taken nothing." It was morning when upon the shore of Tiberias three tired fishermen were seen. They were sad as well as weary, for the night had yielded them no recompense. From the crowd that pressed upon him to hear the word of God, Jesus stepped forth and entered into Simon's boat. And when he had left speaking, he said unto Simon, "Launch out into the deep, and let down your nets for a draught." Naturally enough, Simon, answering, said, "Master, we have toiled all the night." They were very tired now, and were greatly in need of rest and refreshment. "All the night." Slowly must the hours have worn away while they labored and waited. And then he added, "We have taken nothing." We can almost hear the tone of disappointment in which he said it. It would have been no marvel if he had added, "Lord, if we have been so unsuccessful during the time that is generally the most favorable for fishing, will it not be useless for us to make another attempt? Besides, we are weary all over and almost sick with disappointment; let us at least wait till the falling darkness favors our work." But Simon Peter's answer was marked by more faith than this. While he reminded the Master how long and unsuccessfully they had toiled, he quickly added, "Nevertheless, at thy word I will let down the net." And a great multitude of fishes was the result of this act of faith and prompt obedience. Peter and all that were with him were astonished at the draught of fishes which they had taken. To our mind this astonishment does not confute the idea that this act of obedience was prompted by faith. The result so speedily followed, and was so great in its magnitude, that the strongest faith might well be taken by surprise. Have you not sometimes been surprised by the blessed and abundant answer to prayer which you have received? Perhaps the salvation of a dear friend was the deep desire of your heart. For this you toiled till you nearly fainted at the mercy-seat. You prayed unceasingly, and you believed it was the prayer of faith; yet when the answer came you were almost overcome with astonishment. Contemplating this scene, let us take new courage. The sowing-time is often a time of exhaustion. It is also a time of weeping; from very weakness God's seed-bearers weep. The work is great; "who is sufficient for these things?" Sometimes God in his infinite wisdom sees fit to withhold from them the knowledge of the results they are really accomplishing. Often he calls them away before the seed is fully ripe, and they never see the harvest, nor hear the joyful song of the reapers who come after them. They sow in tears, and then they lie down at the close of the day, and with sighs and tears they pass away; but God watches over the precious seed, and the tear-watering causes it to flourish more abundantly and ensures a more glorious harvest. At the time of planting, if the husbandman sees no signs of coming rain, he steeps his seed over night in water that it may spring up sooner; but no seed springs up so soon as that which is steeped in tears. "He that goeth forth and weepeth, bearing precious seed, shall doubtless come again rejoicing, bringing his sheaves with him." The present reward of work is very great, and much to be desired. "In all labor there is profit." Every deed done for the good of others brings a blessing to our own souls: seeking their happiness, we find our own. God's laborers are blessed above all others. He never forgets to reward the smallest work of love; even the cup of cold water given in his name shall be remembered. When we fail to accomplish the good we designed, we cannot say that our labors were in vain or that we have spent our strength for naught. God's designs have been accomplished; our souls have been disciplined; and as we sit down upon the ruins of our brightest plans and fairest hopes, we glorify God far more by our cheerful submission than we could have done by successful labors. But the _future_ reward, how great it is and how enduring! The harvest-time will be a time of joy. Past labor and weeping will be forgotten when the Lord of the vineyard shall call the laborers that he may reward them abundantly. What a scene will then be presented to our view! From north, from south, from east, from west, will they come--some who have toiled through the heat and burden of a long day; others who have labored but one short hour. I, too, will obey the call, saying, as I come and kneel before the God of the harvest, "Master, behold my sheaves. I know they are very few and of little worth; yet, Master, behold my sheaves." Then shall these cheering words come to me, and not to me only, but to all the faithful laborers: "Well done, good and faithful servant; enter thou into the joy of thy Lord." Weary worker in the vineyard, waste not your strength in weeping. Say not, "I have labored in vain; I have spent my strength for naught, and in vain;" for surely your judgment is with the Lord, and your work, or your reward, with your God. "Thus saith the Lord, Refrain thy voice from weeping, and thine eyes from tears; for thy work shall be rewarded, saith the Lord." [Illustration] XV. _The Soul's Portion._ "My meditation of him shall be sweet" _when I consider him as my soul's best portion_. Again and again in God's holy word are we warned to avoid covetousness. From the midst of the thunders and lightning of Sinai issues the emphatic command, "Thou shalt not covet." "Take heed, and beware of covetousness," saith the Master, "for a man's life consisteth not in the abundance of things which he possesseth." "Let your conversation be without covetousness," enjoins the great apostle, "and be content with such things as ye have; for he hath said, I will never leave thee, nor forsake thee." In order, then, to gain this sweet content, let us meditate upon Christ, who is our soul's eternal portion. Let us consider what we already possess, and also meditate upon "things to come," till our hands shall relax their grasp upon earthly things and our hearts cling more closely to Christ. Our lips vainly declare, "Christ is all," if our lives contradict our lips. The worldling looks at our daily life, and soon judges whether or not we are satisfied with Christ. "Conversation" means more than mere words. In its original meaning it includes the whole life. Our whole lives, then, must prove that Christ is our all. Can we be contented in sickness, in sorrow and in poverty? Yes, we can; "for he hath said, I will never leave thee, nor forsake thee." In sickness the Lord will make all your bed; he will strengthen you upon the bed of languishing; his left hand will be under your head, while his right hand will embrace you. In sorrow he will be with you, for he has said, "When thou passest through the waters, I will be with thee; and through the rivers, they shall not overflow thee: when thou walkest through the fire, thou shalt not be burned; neither shall the flame kindle upon thee." In poverty be content, for though you are poor and, it may be, despised of men, you are not forgotten by God. That you might have eternal riches he became poor--so poor that he had not where to lay his head. The manger was his cradle and the rich man's tomb was borrowed for his burial. "For ye know the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, that, though he was rich, yet for your sakes he became poor, that ye through his poverty might be rich." Christ is our _eternal_ portion, "for he hath said, I will _never_ leave thee, nor forsake thee." "Lo, I am with you alway" were his last words on earth. Be content, then, with such things as ye have. Having Christ, ye possess all things, "for all things are yours; and ye are Christ's, and Christ is God's." The "things present," which belong to us through the covenant of peace made with Christ, are precious and greatly to be desired. We have the promise of all things needful for this life. "My God shall supply all your need." "No good thing will he withhold from them that walk uprightly." Bread is sure; water is sure. "The young lions do lack, and suffer hunger; but they that seek the Lord shall not want any good thing." "Therefore I say unto you, Take no thought for your life, what ye shall eat, or what ye shall drink; nor yet for your body, what ye shall put on." "Consider the ravens" and "the lilies," and "be not faithless, but believing;" for if God so feedeth the ravens and clotheth the lilies, "how much more will he" feed and clothe you, "O ye of little faith!" Come and meditate upon his promises, for they are positive and sure, and full of sweet comfort. All your wants are supplied by your Lord Jesus. Are you sick? He is your Healer. Are you weary? He is your Rest. Are you in trouble? He is your very present Helper. Are the days dark? He is your Sun. Are you in danger from the darts of the adversary? He is your Shield. Does the desert sun beat hot upon your head and the desert sand scorch your pilgrim feet? He is "as the shadow of a great rock in a weary land." When the wicked, even your enemies and your foes, come upon you, he is your Fortress and your strong Tower. He is your Teacher, Brother, Friend and Saviour. What more do you desire? And when "things present" are about to pass away for ever, and your trembling feet touch the cold waters of the river of death, before the last fond grasp of earth is given, Christ will take your hand in his, and as he draws very near to you, you will feel in that hour that Christ is the best portion your soul can possess. His finger will point plainly toward "things to come," and he will doubtless give you glimpses of glory before the time. We need not, however, wait till the last hour to consider the things God has laid up for us. The lesson of present content is more easily learned while we sit, like Bunyan's Patience, waiting for our good things. Passion would not be satisfied till his lap was filled with golden treasure, but Patience, with empty hands, was very quiet, though Passion laughed scornfully. "Patience," says Bunyan, "is willing to wait." What a beautiful figure of the Christian! And what are these good things for which the Christian is willing to wait? First of all, he has a home in the future. No earthly home can be compared to it, for it is a home where change and death never come. The earthly home may be made desolate by death, but in the heavenly home there shall be no vacant place. "There shall be no more death, neither sorrow nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain; for the former things are passed away." The Christian has also a crown laid up in the future. Here thorns may bruise his aching brow, but there he shall be crowned. And earthly crowns will pale before the Christian's crown of glory. If he is wise in winning souls, they shall be placed as jewels in his crown; for though all will have bright crowns, some shall be surpassingly glorious, being studded with immortal souls. Let me, dear Lord, be one of those who "turn many to righteousness." Give me a glorious crown, and I will gladly lay it at thy feet. No matter if it must be with weeping that I now go forth to win souls, no matter if my heart be weary and my hands be heavy, the reward will more than compensate for the weariness and weeping, and every redeemed soul shall shine in my diadem of glory. Let the worldling keep his portion and clutch his paltry treasures till they crumble to dust beneath his eager fingers, but let "My soul to heaven aspire, And fix its all on God." He is my best portion, and "my meditation of him shall be sweet" when I remember that this "good part," which his grace has enabled me to choose, "shall not be taken away" from me. [Illustration] [Illustration] XVI. _The Cross._ "My meditation of him shall be sweet" _when I consider his cross and mine_. The cross is the emblem of our religion. To it the awakened sinner flies when conscience fills him with gloomy fears. There is no place of safety for him save in its blessed shadow. Looking up with faith, he sees Jesus, the suffering Saviour, and with the sight peace and joy fill his heart. As he starts upon his pilgrim course the cross is set before him, and these are his marching orders: "If any man will come after me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross, and follow me." Oh how he learns to love that cross of shame! it becomes radiant with glory, and as he journeys he sings, "In the cross of Christ I glory." As he bears his own personal cross, which sometimes is exceedingly heavy, he lays the heaviest end of it upon Christ, and looks up joyfully through his tears to the great Cross-Bearer and learns to "glory in tribulation." Looking up, what does he see? Beyond the cross he sees the crown. How dazzling! how enduring! No stain nor rust shall ever mar its beauty; none shall ever rob it of its sparkling gems. Tell me, I ask, who shall wear these bright crowns? "And he said unto me, These are they which came out of great tribulation, and have washed their robes, and made them white in the blood of the Lamb." Out of great tribulation into great exaltation. What a striking contrast! What a happy exchange! Like the Master, they passed from a lowly state of trouble into a lofty state of triumph. Because they were not ashamed of him in his grief, he was not ashamed of them in his glory. They were saved not because they suffered, but because they trusted in Him who suffered for them. Some of them suffered even unto the death, but the blood that made white their garments was not their own; it was "the blood of the Lamb." "_Therefore_ are they before the throne of God, and serve him day and night in his temple: and he that sitteth on the throne shall dwell among them." How happy are they now! Former trials, when recalled, only lead them to new songs of praise. They remember all the way of the past, and strike the harp-strings with exultant fingers when they think of their sufferings, now exchanged for endless joys. Consider your cross, young disciple, and meditate upon it without bitter thought. It was a wise and loving Hand that laid it upon your shoulder, and that same Hand will lift it when he thinks you have carried it long enough. "He doeth all things well." The end shall be better than the beginning, and in eternity you will understand it all. Your voice will rise in higher, loftier strains when you remember the sickness that was sanctified and the sorrow that led you nearer to your God. "Oh what a load of struggle and distress Falls off before the cross! The feverish care; The wish that we were other than we are; The sick regrets; the yearnings numberless; The thought, "this might have been," so apt to press On the reluctant soul; even past despair; Past sin itself,--all, all is turned to fair, Ay, to a scheme of ordered happiness, As soon as we love God, or rather know That God loves us!... Accepting the great pledge Of his concern for all our wants and woe, We cease to tremble upon danger's edge; While varying troubles form and burst anew, Safe in a Father's arms we smile as infants do." [Illustration] XVII. _The Presence._ "My meditation of him shall be sweet" _when I remember his near and constant presence_; for he is the joy of my life and the life of my joy. Joy without him is hardly worth the name of joy, and sorrow with him is better than joy. When my heart is overwhelmed because of enemies and foes, my terrified soul turns quickly to him, and David's prayer becomes all my own: "Be not thou far from me, O Lord; O my Strength, haste thee to help me! Deliver my soul." The answer quickly comes: "Wait on the Lord; be of good courage, and he shall strengthen thine heart." But oh, my Saviour, "they mar my path." Remove these enemies, even for thine own name's sake; for then shall I run in the way of holiness and my ever-brightening path shall show forth thy praise. And again the answer comes: "Commit thy way unto the Lord;" "My presence shall go with thee." Nearer and nearer draws the Saviour; sweeter and sweeter is his presence in this time of my soul's sorest need. He lifts my prostrate soul and bids my weary eyes survey the upward path. How glorious to behold! He tells me "these light afflictions" are working out "a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory." And when I feel his strong arms around me, my soul breaks forth in singing: "I have no foe, with thee at hand to bless; Ills have no weight, and tears no bitterness." Blessed is the man who has learned the secret of a happy life, and, like Enoch, walks with God. We care not to know the outward circumstances of him whose inner life is hid with God. His delighted soul bathes in the sunshine of God's smile; his face reflects the peace that flows like a river through his spirit. It was the presence of Christ that made the Emmaus journey so delightful. We know that the favored two started with slow steps and heavy hearts, and there was a deep undertone of sadness in their voices as they talked together of all the strange things that had happened. But what a change came over them! A stranger joined their company, and as he talked with them their hearts burned within them, till, drawing near the journey's end, they felt so unwilling to lose his company that they constrained him to come in and tarry with them. And so it came to pass that the last hours of the day were the best hours. In the morning it was cloudy and dark, but at evening-time it was light, for as they sat at meat the Sun of Righteousness shone full and clear into their hearts, dispersing all the clouds. Does not this journey remind us of some of the days of our pilgrimage? The morning found us heavy-hearted. We knelt at the mercy-seat, while sighs and groans took the place of songs and rejoicings. With slow steps and aching hearts we began the duties of the day. But soon there came a change. Jesus, our Lord, drew near. He spake some cheering promise, uttered some whisper of his love. Our hearts began to melt; again we knelt at the mercy-seat. We prayed, we praised; we rose and hastened to our duties, singing as we worked; and so the hours sped on. Night fell; still he tarried: we slept in sweet security, for "so he giveth his beloved sleep;" we woke to find that we were still with Jesus. Happy the soul that hath the abiding presence of the Saviour. Be this our constant prayer: "Abide with us." "Lord, I am not worthy that thou shouldst come under my roof," but yet my heart cries out, "Abide with me." Give me light in the evening-time. Abide with me "until the day break and the shadows flee away." "Not a brief glance I beg, a passing word, But as thou dwell'st with thy disciples, Lord-- Familiar, condescending, patient, free-- Come, not to sojourn, but abide, with me." [Illustration] [Illustration] XVIII. _The Appearing._ "My meditation of him shall be sweet" _when I consider his appearing_. To those who have refused the Saviour's offer of mercy the thought of his second coming is full of terror. With them there is a "certain fearful looking for of judgment and fiery indignation." Having "trodden under foot the Son of God," and "counted the blood of the covenant wherewith he was sanctified an unholy thing," is it any wonder if they fear to fall into the hands of the living God, knowing full well that the fearful and unbelieving "shall have their part in the lake which burneth with fire and brimstone?" But the event which strikes such terror into the hearts of those who are without Christ and without hope in the world, fills the heart of the Christian with exceeding joy. There is comfort, yea, great comfort, in the thought of Christ's coming. The apostles departed from Olivet with new hope and joy after receiving this angel message: "This same Jesus which is taken up from you into heaven shall so come in like manner as ye have seen him go into heaven." Ever since, the waiting Church has been gazing steadfastly toward heaven, "looking for that blessed hope, and the glorious appearing of the great God and our Saviour Jesus Christ." And ever and anon angel voices have uttered words of comfort to the waiting ones. Often the voice is the voice of our Beloved, the Angel of the Covenant. "I will come again," he says, "and receive you unto myself; that where I am, there ye may be also." Hear his last prayer: "Father, I will that they also, whom thou hast given me, be with me where I am; that they may behold my glory." Hear the last words of inspiration: "Surely I come quickly." And the waiting company of believers joyfully respond, "Amen. Even so, come, Lord Jesus." The thought of his coming comforts those whose dearest friends sleep in Jesus, for them will God bring with him. This shall be a time of glad reunions. Let us not sorrow "as others which have no hope." We shall soon be ever with one another. _There is deliverance_ in the thought of Christ's coming; "for we that are in this tabernacle do groan, being burdened." Yes, young disciple, we have not yet reached that state of perfection when we have no burdens. We are yet in the body, and the burden of sorrow is often upon us; and though we try to cast this burden on the Lord, we yet look forward with joy to Christ's coming, for then "sorrow and sighing shall flee away," and "God shall wipe away all tears." And though Christ has delivered us from the penalty of the broken law, yet the burden of sin is often upon us, and many times with contrition and shame we bow before the mercy-seat, saying, sadly, "Father, I have sinned against heaven and in thy sight, and am no more worthy to be called thy son." The burden of death is upon us, and Christ's coming gives comfort to those who through fear of death are all their lifetime subject to bondage. Trembling disciple, perhaps you are fearing what may never come upon you. You may be among the number of those who shall be alive at the coming of the Lord. The time may not be distant, for nearly all the prophecies have been fulfilled and the signs of the times seem to declare plainly, "The coming of the Lord draweth nigh." Many a time, it is true, the waiting Church has fancied it heard the sound of his chariot-wheels, but the time was not yet. "Where is the promise of his coming?" cries the scoffing world. "Behold, I come quickly." Believers closely clasp this promise to their hearts while they pray for patience to wait. Generations have passed away, but the word of the Lord endureth for ever. "I come quickly." Perhaps this generation shall not pass away till all be fulfilled. It may be so. Certainly there is "upon the earth distress of nations, with perplexity;" men's hearts are "failing them for fear, and for looking after those things which are coming on the earth." "My Lord, I stand continually upon my watch-tower," remembering the benediction, "Blessed are those servants whom the Lord when he cometh shall find watching." Last of all and best of all, _there is glory_ in the thought of Christ's coming. There is comfort, great comfort; there is deliverance, great deliverance; there is glory, great glory, "a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory." "Behold, I show you a mystery; we shall not all sleep, but we shall all be changed, in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trump; for the trumpet shall sound, and the dead shall be raised incorruptible, and we shall be changed; for this corruptible must put on incorruption, and this mortal must put on immortality. So when this corruptible shall have put on incorruption, and this mortal shall have put on immortality, then shall be brought to pass the saying that is written, Death is swallowed up in victory." What a glorious picture! No doubt is here admitted. "We _shall_ be changed;" "this corruptible _must_ put on incorruption;" "this mortal _must_ put on immortality." This thought of glory overwhelms us; it is a "weight of glory." To be ever with one another is blessedness; to be ever with the Lord is glory. To be free from this body of sin and death is deliverance; to wear the likeness of our glorified Lord is transfiguration--wonderful, dazzling, glorious! Is it any wonder, then, if our meditation is sweet when we reflect upon "the glorious appearing of the great God and our Saviour Jesus Christ," "who shall change our vile body, that it may be fashioned like unto his glorious body, according to the working whereby he is able even to subdue all things unto himself?" No wonder the apostle calls it "a blessed hope." It sustains the heart of the aged Christian who has "fought a good fight" and finished his course. It also helps the young disciple to "run with patience" the race that is set before him. "This same Jesus shall come again." How? "In like manner as ye have seen him go into heaven." "Behold he cometh with clouds," and with "ten thousand of his saints." And why does he come? To take his weary children home. "I will come again and receive you unto myself." "Wherefore, comfort one another with these words." [Illustration] XIX. _The Conclusion._ "Let us hear the conclusion of the whole matter." We have meditated upon the names of Christ, and have found in them a sweet significance. Jehovah Tsidkenu satisfied the demands of the broken law, making us righteous in the sight of God. Jehovah Shalom gave a peace which even this tumultuous world cannot take from us. Jehovah Nissi leads us forth to battle against our mighty foes, and always gives us the victory; "thanks be to God!" Jehovah Rophi healeth all our diseases with marvelous skill: even the broken heart is not beyond his power, for his own word declares, "He healeth the broken in heart, and bindeth up their wounds." Jehovah Jireh quiets all our fears for the future, for his name is sufficient pledge that he will supply all our need. Jehovah Shammah completes and crowns our joy, for in his presence is fullness of joy; "his presence is salvation." We have rejoiced in "the earnest of our inheritance." Glimpses of glory before the time have made us homesick. His "perfect work" has filled our minds with amazement as we meditated upon our adoption, justification, sanctification and redemption. The thoughts of his chastenings were not painful, because we knew a blessing was concealed in the blow. His compassion for the multitude seemed to us a sweet thought; but as we learned something more about his sympathy with all his "sanctified ones," and his deep personal love for each individual Christian, our hearts melted within us, and drawing nearer to this great heart of love, we joyfully exclaimed, "This is my Beloved, and this is my Friend, O daughters of Jerusalem." We have considered the life more abundant which he gives, until life with Christ seemed the happiest life man can know. Thoughts of the full and free forgiveness of all our sins, even sins of scarlet hue, were comforting thoughts; and while we cast the past behind our backs, we looked forward to the future with new confidence, remembering the "stones of help" provided by him to slay the giant sins. Deliverance from the curse was certainly a pleasant thought; and as we gazed into Paradise regained, we gave thanks because Christ had purchased for us the "right to the tree of life" which stands in the midst of the Paradise of God. Our meditation was sweet when we thought of his faithful promises concerning prayer, for his word confirmed our own experience, and we learned to kneel and ask with a more unwavering confidence. Considering his reward for faithful labors made us almost forget the weariness of work as we seemed already to hear his "Well done, thou good and faithful servant; enter thou into the joy of thy Lord." Christ as the soul's best portion filled the heart with deep, unspeakable joy, and we took up our cross, singing as we walked, because his near presence made us almost unmindful of its weight upon our shoulder. On Olivet we had our last glimpse of our living Lord. Here we stood "gazing up into heaven" at "this same Jesus," who is as dear to us as he was to the twelve. Our hearts thrilled over his parting blessing, and the thought of his coming again filled us with delight. Our meditations are over now. They have been "sweet," or, as it may be rendered, "as the calm evening hour." Meditating upon Jesus has increased our joy: "I will be glad in the Lord." Around his very name sweet thoughts thickly cluster. Jesus! my Jesus! In that dear name the best music of heaven comes down to me. How sweet it sounds! A bundle of myrrh it is--a hill of frankincense--a mountain of spices. Through all the livelong day, through all the silent watches of the night, my mind may turn to Him whose "name is as ointment poured forth," and no bitter, doubting, fearful thought shall ever mingle with my musing. No dark thread shall ever weave itself into the silver web of my sweet meditation of him, for my unbelief is banished when my Jesus is near. All my grief fades away in the presence of his glory, and he his own self is the joy of my heart and the heart of my joy. "My Beloved is mine, and I am his." All that he is is mine, and all that I am is his. He is more than all the world to me, and without him heaven would not be worth having. "Whom have I in heaven but thee? and there is none upon earth that I desire besides thee." Jesus! my Jesus! Eternal musings will not exhaust this hive of honey. He has saved me from my sins and betrothed me to himself for ever. O my soul, "how much owest thou unto my Lord!" The greatness of my indebtedness I will not fully realize till I stand upon the yonder shore, and perhaps not even then. "Jesus, I ne'er can pay The debt I owe thy love." I am, and ever will be, "debtor." Thy gifts to me have been so great that, though my giving cannot enrich thee, I would fain relieve my grateful heart by giving thee some token of love. In the stable at Bethlehem the Eastern sages open their costly treasures. The sight is a strange one, and there seems a strange incongruity between the gifts and the receiver; also between the giver and the receiver. The wise men bow before a babe, and lavish the riches of the East upon the infant of the lowly manger. "Lavish," did I say? Let not the thought of waste be here implied. This babe is "the holy child Jesus," the King of the Jews. Bring costly sacrifices. "The kings of Tarshish and of the isles shall bring presents; the kings of Sheba and Seba shall offer gifts. Yea, all kings shall fall down before him; all nations shall serve him." Jesus, Saviour, once a child! Jesus, my exalted King! what shall I bring to thy footstool? What shall I give my Lord? "Were the whole realm of nature mine, That were a present far too small." But I am poor, very poor. No good works have I to bring; no incense of holy prayers; no golden thoughts in which there mingles no alloy of impurity. "Thou willest that thy bride should be-- I bless thy will--most poor, most low, Receiving everything from thee, My Lord and God. Then be it so. "That I have nothing of my own, Freely and gladly I to all declare. This is my portion, this alone, That thou permittest me thy name to bear." Have I then nothing to give? Stay, holy Christ; I have a heart. True, it is polluted--more than this, it is broken--yet I have heard that though "Our God requires a whole heart or none, Yet he will accept a broken one." Accept the gift. Take it and make it holy; fill it with love to thee. Fill it even to overflowing; so that, having received all from thee, I may be able to give thee all. Let me be wholly thine--thine in every thought and passion of my soul. Here, Lord, I give my soul to thee; I am thine. "Poor heart of mine, awake, arise! And thou, my Bridegroom, my life's Sun, Draw me to reach the heavenly prize, Oh, do thou draw, and we will run. Draw after thee thy fainting bride, Who still is far, too far, from light and grace; Till in thy presence, at thy side, She see thee wholly--see thee face to face." My meditation of him makes me long to see Him whom, having not seen, I love. I would see him--not as I have seen him in the sanctuary and in his holy supper, but I would see him "face to face." I would see him as he is; and, blessed be his glorious name for ever! I shall one day see him thus. Oh blessed hope! These eyes shall see Jesus; "For I know that my Redeemer liveth, and that he shall stand at the latter day upon the earth; and though after my skin worms destroy this body, yet in my flesh shall I see God; whom I shall see for myself, and mine eyes shall behold, and not another." And, better than all beside, I shall be like him; for "we know that when he shall appear we shall be like him, for we shall see him as he is." Such knowledge is too wonderful for me: it is high; I cannot attain unto it. "Jesus! the very thought is sweet; In that dear name all heart-joys meet; But sweeter than the honey far The glimpses of his presence are. "No word is sung more sweet than this; No name is heard more full of bliss; No thought brings sweeter comfort nigh Than Jesus, Son of God most high. "Jesus, the Hope of souls forlorn, How good to them for sin that mourn! To them that seek thee, oh how kind! But what art thou to them that find! "No tongue of mortal can express, No letter write, its blessedness: Alone who hath thee in his heart Knows, love of Jesus, what thou art. "O Jesus! King of wondrous might; O Victor! glorious from the fight; Sweetness that may not be expressed, And altogether loveliest." THE END. 
51655	----	THE HISTORICAL JESUS A SURVEY OF POSITIONS BY JOHN M. ROBERTSON [ISSUED FOR THE RATIONALIST PRESS ASSOCIATION, LIMITED] London: WATTS & CO., 17 JOHNSON'S COURT, FLEET STREET, E.C. 1916 CONTENTS PAGE Preamble xi Chapter I.--THE SNARE OF PRESUPPOSITION Presupposition in science. The Copernican theory. The reception of Galileo, Harvey, and Darwin. Blinding effects of scholarship. The theological record. Mutations of Christian opinion. Defence of the belief in witchcraft. Leibnitz and Newton. Criticism of the Pentateuch. Parvish, Astruc, Voltaire, Colenso, and the professional scholars 1 Chapter II.--MODES OF CONSERVATIVE FALLACY Persistence of the theological temper. Each abandoned position first defended with the same fierceness. Saner forms of conservatism. Persistence in presupposition. Canon Inge on Jesus and Paul. The logical hiatus. Mill's precedent. His dithyrambic mood and critical inadequacy. Disregard of the documentary evidence. Need to face the real problem. The sociological process. Mill's dictum contrasted with those of Newman and Baur 6 Chapter III.--ILLUSIONS AS TO GOSPEL ETHIC Mill's method and mind non-historical. "The historic sense." Dr. J. E. Carpenter's. The concept of "sublimity." God portraiture. Its limitations. The Gospel ethic. Significance of the contradictions. The parable of the Good Samaritan. Incompetent verdicts of theologians. The story of Lycurgus and Alcander. Plutarch on forgiveness of enemies. Fanaticism of Christian estimates of antiquity 18 Chapter IV.--THE METHOD OF BLUSTER The historic problem. Its treatment by a Unitarian cleric. The method of bluster. The real and the pretended character of the Gospel according to Mark. Wellhausen's estimate. Actual features of primitive and popular myth-lore. Biography in Plutarch. Mr. McCabe on the Marcan residuum. The gospel figure. Doctrinal determinants 30 Chapter V.--SCHMIEDEL AND DEROGATORY MYTH Collapse of the thesis of "human characteristics." The myth and the historicity of Herakles. The more considerate thesis of Schmiedel: argument from "derogatory" episodes. Kalthoff on the human characteristics in Ruth and Jonah. Confusion of the new argument. Jesus introduced in Mark with divine characteristics. The Unitarian blunder as to "conventional" and "unconventional" hero-worship. Jewish and Pagan heroes and Gods alike put in "derogatory" positions. Herakles, Dionysos, and Apollo. Need to apply anthropological, mythological, and hierological as well as N. T. scholarship. Grounds for a Christian myth of the Founder as opposed by his family 44 Chapter VI.--THE VISIONARY EVANGEL B. Weiss's "Primitive Gospel." Its characteristics common to Mark. The enigma of the evangel of the Twelve. That problem never rightly realized by the exegetes. The allegorical explanations to be withheld from the people. Complete deficit of historical matter. The evangel of the Twelve a myth. Real origin in a rite, not in an evangel. The last hypothesis: a political evangel that could not be later avowed. Incompatibility of this view with the Gospels. Composition of the record. Why the Primitive Gospel lacked the Tragedy. Breakdown of the traditionary explanation. Orthodox avowals of anomaly 51 Chapter VII.--THE ALLEGED CONSENSUS OF SCHOLARS Resort to the myth-theory forced by the data. Unitarian attitude to that. Appeal for acceptance of the "consensus of scholars." No such consensus ever attained. Dalman on his fellow-specialists. His own presuppositions. Pretensions to solve historical problems through philology. Distinction between pedantry and science. Candour of Schmiedel. Inadequacy of his method. Resistance of scholarship to scientific thought. Colenso and the Zulu and the orthodox resistance. Attack on the New Testament scholars by Professor Blass 62 Chapter VIII.--CONSERVATIVE POSITIONS Modifications of conservative attitude. Lack of good faith or of comprehension. Samples of misrepresentation. The Unitarian attitude. Treatment of myth-solutions: the Myth of the Temptation. Dr. Thorburn's orthodox solution. Mythology and psychology. Psychic determinants of resistance to new views. Attitude to "healing powers" ascribed to Jesus. Force of presupposition. Davidson's "must." 74 Chapter IX.--BLASS AND FLINDERS PETRIE The attempt to find an "impersonal" test of the documentary basis. Dr. Flinders Petrie on The Growth of the Gospels. Theory of selection and compilation from logia. Acceptance of any item as early. The argument of Blass as to possibility of real predictions. Case of Savonarola. Nature of the problem. Political anticipation versus prophecy. Investigation of the Savonarola case. His earlier prophecies, conditional and absolute 82 Chapter X.--THE SAVONAROLA FALLACY Comparison between Savonarola's prediction of the Sack of Rome and the gospel prophecy of the Fall of Jerusalem. Normality of Savonarola's vaticinations. Historical blunder of the Blass school as to medieval warfare. Frequency of sacrilege in Christian war. The Christian sack of Constantinople 93 Chapter XI.--THE "LOGIA" THEORY AND THE HISTORICAL TEST Blass on the gospel prophecy: analysis of the texts. Their arbitrary handling by Blass. The "Nucleus" theory of Dr. Petrie. Its arbitrary implications. Impersonal method of selection not followed by impersonal inference from the results. The logia theory much more compatible with the myth-theory than with the tradition. Test cases 104 Chapter XII.--FAILURE OF THE "LOGIA" THEORY The scientific inference. Omission and invention of logia necessarily to be inferred as well as selection. Implicit abandonment of certain prophecies, and resulting incoherence of the argument. Reversion to the fundamental issue between supernaturalism and reason. Final futility of the attempt to vindicate the documents. Possibilities as to currency of written logia. Illustration from Islam. The mass of incompatibilities in the Gospel Teaching. Possibilities of genuine self-contradiction. Carlyle and Ruskin. Mohammed. The gospels not thus explicable. Damaging implications of the logia theory. Variety of "Christs." Papias. Baruch and Enoch 113 Chapter XIII.--RESURGENCE OF THE HISTORIC PROBLEM The actually recovered logia of Oxyrhynchus. Their incompatibility with Dr. Petrie's assumption of historic genuineness for all. The real process of composition in Luke's gospel. Motives for invention. The myth of the Seventy Disciples a sample and test case. Inadequacy alike of the documentary theory and that of scattered logia 123 Chapter XIV.--ORTHODOXY AND THE "ORAL" HYPOTHESIS The "oral" hypothesis of the Rev. A. Wright. His approximations to the "liberal" chronology as against the Blass school. His candour. Hypothesis of fifty-two Lessons. Another "selection" theory--selection from oral traditions locally cherished. Wide departures of Mr. Wright from his theory. Unaccountableness of apostolic information. The tradition as to baptism. Problem of the duration of the Ministry, and of the one or four visits to Jerusalem. The oral hypothesis, like the others, more compatible with the myth-theory than with the tradition. Stand on the Resurrection 129 Chapter XV.--THE METHOD OF M. LOISY M. Loisy and the "liberal" school. His attitude to the myth-theory. His certitudes. Disclaims biography, and produces one. His treatment of the legend. The problem of the multitude of healings. Collapse of the assumption in the case of Nazareth. Inconsistency of M. Loisy's method, and weakness of his solutions. His acceptance of the Joseph legend. "The carpenter." Difficulty set up by Origen. The myth solution. "The son of Mary." Dilemma set up by later passages. Problem of the Messianic declaration of Peter. Impossibility of the personality set up by Petrine and anti-Petrine records 141 Chapter XVI.--THE TRIAL CRUX Lax treatment of the main problems by M. Loisy. Acceptance of the non-historical as historical. The Purification of the Temple. The Agony. Approximation to the true solution. The priestly Trial. Virtual abandonment of the narrative by M. Loisy. Illicit reconstruction. Successive retreats of the "liberal" school. Surrender of (1) the Trial before Herod, (2) the Johannine record, (3) the Trial before the priests. Stand on the Trial before Pilate. Untenableness of that. The Roman Trial admittedly a loose tradition. Impossible as recorded. A clear solution supplied by the myth theory. Irreconcilable character of the Triumphal entry and the unanimous hostility of the people before Pilate. The Barabbas story admittedly unhistorical. Its presence accounted for only by the myth-theory 161 Chapter XVII.--THE JESUS-FIGURE OF M. LOISY The dilemma of the Evangel of the Twelve. M. Loisy on the Teaching of Jesus as preparative for the cult. Destructive effect of his admissions as to the teaching of Paul. His attitude towards the myth-theory. Demanding definiteness, he rests in the indefinite. His self-contradictions. His ascription of originality to quoted teachings. Incompatibility of his Teacher and his Messiah. The teaching as to divorce not that of one expecting a new order. Its prior currency. Bases of the gospel ethic. The Good Samaritan documentarily a late creation 173 Chapter XVIII.--THE PAULINE PROBLEM M. Loisy on the testimony of Paul. His misconception as to its bearings on the myth-theory. Van Manen helped by his own thesis to accept the historicity of Jesus. The myth-theory quite independent of the dating of the Epistles. Importance of noting that, early or late, they are interpolated. M. Loisy's treatment of the documentary problem. Van Manen's strong case against the Epistles. Need to revise the details of the chronology. Also to orient the myth-theory aright. Inadequacy of the theories of Kalthoff and Kautsky 185 Chapter XIX.--THE HISTORY OF THE DISCUSSION Prospects of controversy. Slow advance of the "liberal" view. Identity of the final positions of Strauss and Loisy. Tentative beginnings of the myth-theory. Effects of persecution and of Strauss's final dialectic. Schweitzer on the evolution "from Reimarus to Wrede." Bruno Bauer. Claims for "the German temperament." Need for a truly scientific temper. Effects of Bauer's flaws of mood and method. Schweitzer's amenity and candour. Demonstrates the shortsightedness of German specialism. Schweitzer's ignorance concerning the myth-theory in its later developments. His laxities in research. His own thesis 193 Chapter XX.--THE GROUND CLEARED FOR THE MYTH-THEORY The issue as between Schweitzer and Wrede. Each destroys one half of the "liberal" case for historicity. Schweitzer confutes Wrede, and then puts a still more untenable view. His acceptance of the triumphal entry into Jerusalem as historical. His Jesus hailed not as a Messiah but as Elias. Schweitzer's new view of the Betrayal. Judas a revealer of his Master's private claim to be Messiah. The multitude supposed to be thus cleared of the charge of fickleness. Schweitzer's fallacy as to Messianic claims being blasphemous. His service to criticism by clearing the ground. His final ethical and sociological confusion. The fortunes of the myth-theory in England. Early adumbrations. Difference in modern spirit and method, resulting from establishment of anthropology as a science. Lyell and Tylor. Schweitzer's scientific temper. The myth-theory. The battleground of the future. Positions of Sir J. G. Frazer. Countervailing declarations by supporters of the myth-theory. The question one of science, not sentiment 201 Conclusion 211 Index 217 PREAMBLE The problem of the historicity of the Jesus of the Gospels has been discussed by me in large sections of two bulky books, which in other sections deal with matters only indirectly connected with this, while even the sections directly devoted to the problem cover a good deal of mythological and anthropological ground which not many readers may care to master. The "myth theory" developed in them, therefore, may not be readily grasped even by open-minded readers; and the champions of tradition, of whatever school, have a happy hunting-ground for desultory misrepresentation and mystification. It has been felt to be expedient, therefore, by disinterested readers as well as by me, to put the problem in a clearer form and in a more concise compass. The process ought to involve some logical improvement, as the mythological investigation made in Christianity and Mythology had been carried out independently of the anthropological inquiry made in Pagan Christs, and the theory evolved may well require unification. In particular, the element of Jewish mythology calls for fuller development. And the highly important developments of the myth theory by Professor Drews and Professor W. B. Smith have to be considered with a view to co-ordination. To such a re-statement, however, certain preliminary steps are necessary. The ground needs to be cleared (1) of à priori notions as to the subject matter; (2) of mistaken opinions as to a supposed "consensus of critics"; and (3) of uncritical assumptions as to the character of the Gospel narratives. Writers who have not gone very deeply into problems of normal history, however they may have specialized in the Biblical, are still wont to assert that the historicity of non-supernatural data in the Sacred Books is on all fours with that of the subject matter of "profane" history. Indeed it is still common to hear it claimed that the Resurrection is as well "attested" as the assassination of Julius Cæsar, or even better. In exactly the same tone and spirit did the traditionalists of a previous generation assert that the stoppage of the sun and moon in the interest of Joshua was better attested than any equally ancient historical narrative. Those who have decided to abandon the supernatural reduce the claim, of course, to the historicity of the Trial and Crucifixion; but as to these they confidently repeat the old formulas. Yet in point of fact they have made no such critical scrutiny of even these items as historians have long been used to make, with destructive results, into many episodes of ancient history--for instance, the battle of Thermopylæ and the founding of the Spartan constitution by Lycurgus. Men who affect to dismiss the myth theory as an ungrounded speculation are all the while taking for granted the historicity of a record which is a mere tissue of incredibilities. It has been justly remarked that serious risk of error is set up even by the long-current claim of naturalist critics to "treat the Bible like any other book." Even in their meaning the phrase should have run: "like any other Sacred Book of antiquity"; inasmuch as critical tests and methods are called for in the scrutiny of such books which do not apply in the case of others. But inasmuch, further, as the Christian Sacred Books form a problem by themselves, a kind of scrutiny which in the case of other books of cult-history might substantially reveal all the facts may here easily fail to do so. The unsuspecting student, coming to a narrative in which supernatural details are mingled with "natural," decides simply to reject the former and take as history what is left. It is the method of the amateur mythologists of ancient Greece, derided by Socrates, and chronically resuscitated in all ages by men seeking short cuts to certitude where they have no right to any. If the narrative of the Trial and Crucifixion, thus handled, is found to be still incredible in point of time-arrangement, the adaptor meets the difficulty by reducing the time-arrangement to probability and presenting the twice redacted result as "incontestable" history. All this, as will be shown in the following pages, is merely a begging of the question. A scientific analysis points to a quite different solution, which the naïf "historical" student has never considered. He is still kept in countenance, it is true, by "specialists" of the highest standing. The average "liberal" theologian still employs the explanatory method of Toland; and anthropologists still offer him support. Thus Sir James Frazer, by far the most learned collector of mytho-anthropological lore in his age, positively refuses to apply to the history of the Christian cult his own express rule of mythology--formulated before him [1] but independently reiterated by him--that "all peoples have invented myths to explain why they observed certain customs," and that a graphic myth to explain a rite is presumptively "a simple transcript of a ceremony"; which is the equivalent of the doctrine of Robertson Smith, that "in almost every case the myth was derived from the ritual, and not the ritual from the myth," and of the doctrine of K. O. Müller that "the mythus sprang from the worship, and not the worship from the mythus." What justification Sir James can give for his refusal to act on his own principles is of course a matter for full and careful consideration. But at least the fact that he has to justify the refusal to apply in a most important case one of the best-established generalizations of comparative mythology is not in this case a recommendation of the principle of authority to scientific readers. General phrases, then, as to how religions must have originated in the personal impression made by a Founder are not only unscientific presuppositions but are flatly contradictory, in this connection, of a rule scientifically reached in the disinterested study of ancient hierology in general. It is a delusion, again, to suppose, as do some scholarly men, that there is such a consensus of view among New Testament scholars as to put out of court any theory that cancels the traditionalist assumption of historicity which is the one position that most of them have in common. As we shall see, the latest expert scholarship, professionally recognized as such, makes a clean sweep of their whole work; but they themselves, by their insoluble divisions, had already discredited it. Any careful collection of their views will show that the innumerable and vital divergences of principle and method of the various schools, and their constant and emphatic disparagement of each other's conclusions, point rather to the need for a radically different theory and method. A theory, therefore, which cancels their conflicts by showing that all the data are reducible to order only when their primary assumption is abandoned, is entitled to the open-minded attention of men who profess loyalty to the spirit of science. There is need, thirdly, to bring home even to many readers who profess such loyalty, the need for a really critical study of the Gospels. I have been blamed by some critics because, having found that sixty years' work on the documents by New Testament scholars yielded no clear light on the problem of origins, I chose to approach that by way (1) of mythology, (2) of extra-evangelical literature and sect-history, and (3) of anthropology. The question of the order and composition of the Gospels, in the view of these critics, should be the first stage in the inquiry. Now, for the main purposes of the myth-theory, the results reached by such an investigator as Professor Schmiedel were quite sufficient; and though at many points textual questions had to be considered, it seemed really not worth while to discuss in detail the quasi-historical results claimed by the exegetes. But it has become apparent that a number of readers who claim to be "emancipated" have let themselves be put off with descriptions of the Gospel-history when they ought to have read it attentively for themselves. A confident traditionalist, dealt with hereinafter, writes of the "pretentious futilities into which we so readily drop when we talk about them [the Gospels] instead of reading them." The justice of the observation is unconsciously but abundantly illustrated by himself; and he certainly proves the need for inducing professed students to read with their eyes open. Early in 1914 there was published a work on The Historical Christ, by Dr. F. C. Conybeare, in which, as against the myth hypothesis, which he vituperatively assailed, a simple perusal of the Gospel of Mark (procurable, as he pointed out, for one penny) was confidently prescribed as the decisive antidote to all doubts of the historicity of the central figure. The positions put were the conventional ones of the "liberal" school. No note was taken of the later professional criticism which, without accepting the myth-theory, shatters the whole fabric of current historicity doctrine. But that is relatively a small matter. In the course of his treatise, Dr. Conybeare asserted three times over, with further embellishments, that in the Gospel of Mark Jesus is "presented quite naturally as the son of Joseph and his wife Mary, and we learn quite incidentally the names of his brothers and sisters." Dr. Conybeare's printers' proofs, he stated, had been read for him by Professor A. C. Clark. I saw, I think, fully twenty newspaper notices of the book; and in not a single one was there any recognition of the gross and thrice-repeated blunder above italicized, to modify the chorus of uncritical assent. A professed Rationalist repeated and endorsed Dr. Conybeare's assertion. Needless to say, not only did Dr. Conybeare not mention that Joseph is never named in Mark, he never once alluded to the fact that in the same Gospel Mary is presented as not the mother of Jesus; and the brothers and sisters, by implication, as not his brothers and sisters. When aggressive scholars and confident reviewers thus alike reveal that they have not read the Gospels with the amount of attention supposed to be bestowed on them by an intelligent Sunday-school teacher, it is evidently inadvisable to take for granted any general critical preparation even among rationalistic readers. Before men can realize the need for a new theoretic interpretation of the whole, they must be invited to note the vital incongruities (as apart from miracle stories) in each Gospel singly, as the lay Freethinkers of an earlier generation did without pretending to be scholars. Those Rationalists are ill-advised who suppose that, in virtue of having listened to latter-day publicists who profess to extract a non-supernatural "religion" from the supernaturalisms of the past, they have reached a higher and truer standpoint than that of the men who made sheer truth their standard and their ideal. Really scholarly and scrupulous advocates of theism are as zealous to expose the historical truth as the men who put that first and foremost; it is the ethical sentimentalists who put the question of historic truth on one side. The fact that some men of scientific training in other fields join at times in such complacent constructions does not alter the fact that they are non-scientific. The personal equation even of a man of science is not science. On these as on other sides of the intellectual life, "opinion of store is cause of want," as Bacon has it. Some of us who in our teens critically read the sacred books first and foremost to clear our minds on the general question of supernaturalism, and then proceeded to try, with the help of the documentary scholars, to trace the history of religion as matter of anthropology and sociology, had the experience of being told by Professor Huxley, whose own work we had followed, that we were still at the standpoint of Voltaire. Later we had the edification of seeing Huxley expatiate upon topics which had long been stale for Secularist audiences, and laboriously impugn the story of the Flood and the miracle of the Gadarene swine in discursive debate with Gladstone, even making scientific mistakes in the former connection. In view of it all, it seems still a sound discipline to treat all opinions as for ever open to revision, and at the same time to doubt whether the acceptance of any popular formula will place us in a position to disparage unreservedly all our critical predecessors. If we find reason to dismiss as inadequate the conclusions of many scholars of the past, orthodox and heterodox, we are not thereby entitled to speak of the best of them otherwise than as powerful minds and strenuous toilers, hampered by some of their erroneous assumptions in the task of relieving their fellows of the burden of others. It is precisely the habituation of the professional scholars to working in a special groove that has so retarded the progress of New Testament criticism. The re-discussion of the historicity question that has followed upon the modern exposition of the myth-theory has involved the reiteration by the historicity school of a set of elementary claims from the long-discredited interpolation in Josephus and the pagan "testimonies" of Suetonius and Tacitus; and Professor W. B. Smith has had to meet these with a detailed rebuttal such as used to be made--of course with less care and fullness--on the ordinary English Secularist platform forty or even seventy years ago. Less advanced scholars once more begin to recognize the nullity of the argument from the famous passage in the Annals of Tacitus, [2] which was clear to so many unpretending freethinkers in the past; and to other Gelehrten vom Fach it has to be again pointed out that the impulsore Chresto of Suetonius, so far from testifying to the presence of a Christian multitude at Rome under Nero--a thing so incompatible with their own records--is rather a datum for the myth-theory, inasmuch as it posits a cult of a Chrestos or Christos out of all connection with the "Christian" movement. The passage in Josephus was given up long ago by hundreds of orthodox scholars as a palpable interpolation, proved as such by the total silence in regard to it of early Fathers who would have rejoiced to cite it if it had been in existence. The device of supposing it to be a Christian modification of a different testimony by Josephus is a resort of despair, which evades altogether the fact of the rupture of context made by the passage--a feature only less salient in the paragraph of Tacitus. But even if there were no reason to suspect the latter item of being a late echo from Sulpicius Severus, who is assumed to have copied it, nothing can be proved from it for the historicity of the Gospel Jesus, inasmuch as it does but set forth from a hostile standpoint the ordinary Christian account of the beginnings of the cult. Those who at this time of day found upon such data are further from an appreciation of the evidential problem than were their orthodox predecessors who debated the issue with Freethinkers half a century ago. I have thought it well, then, to precede a restatement of the "myth-theory" with a critical survey in which a number of preliminary questions of scientific method and critical ethic are pressed upon those who would deal with the main problem aright; and a certain amount of controversy with other critical schools is indulged in by way of making plain the radical weakness of all the conventional positions. The negative criticism, certainly, will not establish in advance the positive theory: that must meet the ordeal of criticism like every other. But the preliminary discussion may at once serve to free from waste polemic the constructive argument and guard readers against bringing to that a delusive light from false assumptions. A recent and more notorious exhibition of "critical method" by Dr. Conybeare has satisfied me that it is needless to offer any further systematic exposure of the nullity of his treatise, with which I had dealt at some length in The Literary Guide. His memorable attack upon the Foreign Secretary, and his still more memorable retractation, may enable some of his laudatory reviewers to realize the kind of temper and the kind of scrutiny he brings to bear upon documents and theories that kindle his passions. All that was relevant in his constructive process was really extracted, with misconceptions and blunders and exaggerations, from the works of a few scholars of standing who, however inconclusive their work might be, set him a controversial example which he was unable to follow. In dealing with them, I have the relief of no longer dealing with him. As to the constructive argument from comparative mythology, anthropology, and hierology, attacked by him and others with apparently no grasp of the principles of any of these sciences, objections may be best dealt with incidentally where they arise in the restatement of the case. For the rest, I can conceive that some will say the second year of the World War is no time for the discussion even of a great problem of religious history. I answer that the War has actually been made the pretext for endless religious discussions of the most futile kind, ranging between medieval miracle-mongering and the lowest forms of journalistic charlatanism, with chronic debates on theism and on the military value of faith and prayer. The newspaper discussions on theism, in particular, reveal a degree of philosophic naïveté on the theistic side which seems to indicate that that view of the universe has of late years been abandoned by most men capable of understanding the logical problem. When dispute plays thus uselessly at the bidding of emotion there must be some seniors, or others withheld from war service, who in workless hours would as lief face soberly an inquiry which digs towards the roots of the organized religion of Europe. If the end of the search should be the conviction that that system took shape as naturally as any other cult of the ancient world, and that the sacrosanct records of its origin are but products of the mythopoeic faculty of man, the time of war, with its soul-shaking challenge to the sense of reality, may not be the most unfit for the experience. THE HISTORICAL JESUS CHAPTER I THE SNARE OF PRESUPPOSITION He who would approach with an alert mind such a question as that of the historic actuality of the Gospel Jesus would do well to weigh a preliminary warning. Though after four hundred years of chronic scientific discovery all men are supposed to know the intellectual danger of a confident and foregone rejection of new theories, it is scarcely likely that the vogue of such error is at an end. After all, apart from the special experience in question, and from the general effect of the spread of "science," the average psychosis of men is not profoundly different from what it was in the two centuries which passed before the doctrines of Copernicus found general acceptance. Not many modern novelties of thought can so reasonably be met with derision as was the proposition that the earth moves round the sun. Let the ingenuous reader try to make the supposition that he had been brought up in ignorance of that truth, and without any training in astronomy, and that in adolescence or mature years it had been casually put to him as a non-authoritative suggestion. Would he have been quick to surmise that the paradox might be truth? Let him next try to imagine that he had been educated by an eccentric guardian in the Ptolemaic creed, which accounted so plausibly for so many solar and stellar phenomena, and that until middle life he had been kept unaware of the Copernican heresy. Can he be sure that, meeting it not as an accredited doctrine but as a novel hypothesis, he would have been prompt to recognize that it was the better solution? If he can readily say Yes, I know not whether his confidence is enviable or otherwise. Reading in Sylvester's translation of the Divine Weeks of Du Bartas, which had such vogue in the days of James VI, the confident derision and "confutation" of the heliocentric theory, I really cannot be sure that had I lived in those days I should have gone right where Bacon went wrong. To a mere historical student, not conscious of any original insight into the problems of nature, there ought to be something chastening in the recollection that every great advance in the human grasp of them has been hotly or hilariously denounced and derided; and that not merely by the average ignoramus, but by the mass of the experts. It was not the peasants of Italy who refused to look through Galileo's telescope--they were not invited to; it was the academics, deep in Aristotle. It was not the laity who distinguished themselves by rejecting Harvey's discovery of the circulation of the blood; it was all the doctors above forty then living, if we can believe a professional saying. And it was not merely the humdrum Bible-readers who scouted geology for generations, or who laughed consumedly for decades over the announcement that Darwin made out men to be "descended from monkeys." That theory, as it happened, had been unscientifically enough propounded long before Darwin; and, albeit not grounded upon any such scientific research as served to establish the Darwinian theory in a generation, yet happened to be considerably nearer rationality than the Semitic myth which figured for instructed Christendom as the absolute and divinely revealed truth on the subject. A recollection of the hate and fury with which geologists like Hugh Miller repelled the plain lesson of their own science when it was shown to clash with the sacred myth, and a memory of the roar of derision and disgust which met Darwin, should set reasonable men on their guard when they find themselves faced by propositions which can hardly seem more monstrous to this generation than those others did to our fathers and grandfathers. It is difficult, again, without suggesting contempt of that scholarship which as concerning historical problems is the equivalent of experimental research in science, to insist aright upon the blinding tendency of pure scholarship in the face of a radically innovating doctrine. Without scholarly survey no such doctrine can maintain itself. Yet it is one of the commonest of experiences to find the accredited scholars among the last to give an intelligent hearing to a new truth. Only for a very few was skill in the Ptolemaic astronomy a good preparation towards receiving the Copernican. The errors of Copernicus--the inevitable errors of the pioneer--served for generations to establish the Ptolemaists in theirs. And where religious usage goes hand-in-hand with an error, not one man in a thousand can escape the clutch of the double habit. Hence the special blackness of the theological record in the history of culture. In the present day the hideous memory of old crimes withholds even the clerical class as a whole from the desire to employ active persecution; but that abstention--forced in any case--cannot save the class from the special snare of the belief in the possession of fixed and absolute truth. Since the day when Tyndale was burned for translating the Sacred Books, English Christians have passed through a dozen phases of faith, from the crassest evangelicalism to the haziest sentimentalism, and in all alike they have felt, mutatis mutandis, the same spontaneous aversion to the new doctrine that disturbs the old. Who will say that the stern Tyndale, had he ever been in power, would not have made martyrs in his turn? The martyr Latimer had applauded the martyrdom of Anabaptists. The martyred Cranmer had assented to martyrdoms in his day, though a man forgiving enough in respect of his own wrongs. And if the educated Christians of to-day have reached a level at which they can recognize as old delusions not only the beliefs in relics and images and exorcisms, once all sacrosanct, but the "literal" acceptance of Semitic and Christian myths and miracle-stories, to whom do they think they owe the deliverance? To their accredited teachers? Not so. No false belief from which men have been delivered since the day of Copernicus has been dismissed without strenuous resistance from men of learning, and even from men of vigorous capacity. The belief in witchcraft was championed by Bodin, one of the most powerful minds of his day; Glanvill, who sought to maintain it in England after the Restoration, was a man of philosophical culture and a member of the Royal Society; and he had the countenance of the Platonist Henry More and the chemist Boyle. So great a man as Leibnitz repulsed the cosmology of Newton on the score that it expelled God from the universe. It was not professional theologians who invented the "higher criticism" of the Pentateuch, any more than they introduced geology. Samuel Parvish, the Guildford bookseller, who discovered in the days of Walpole that Deuteronomy belonged to the seventh century B.C., is not recorded to have made any clerical converts; and Astruc, the Parisian physician who began the discrimination between the Jehovistic and Elohistic sources in Genesis in 1753, made no school in his country or his time. Voltaire, no Hebraist, demonstrated clearly enough that the Pentateuchal tale of the tabernacle in the wilderness was a fiction; but three toiling generations of German specialists passed the demonstration by, till a Zulu convert set the good Bishop Colenso upon applying to the legend the simple tests of his secular arithmetic. Then the experts began slowly to see the point. CHAPTER II MODES OF CONSERVATIVE FALLACY To all such reminders the present-day expert will reply, belike, that he does not need them. He, profiting by the past, can commit no such errors. And yet, however right the present members of the apostolic succession of truth-monopolists may be, there is an astonishing likeness in their tone and temper over the last heresy to that of their predecessors, down to the twentieth generation. Anger and bluster, boasting and scolding, snarl and sneer, come no less spontaneously to the tongues of the professional defender of the present minimum of creed than they did to those of the full-blooded breed of the ages of the maximum, or of Calvin and Bonner. From the defence of the "real presence" of the God to that of the bare personal existence of the Man is a long descent; but there is a singular sameness in the manner of the controversy. As their expert ancestors proved successively the absolute truth of the corporal presence in the wafer, or the humanity of the Son against those who dubbed him merely divine, or his divinity against those who pronounced him merely human, or the inerrancy of the Gospels against the blasphemers who pointed out the contradictions, or the historic certainty of the miracles and the Virgin Birth and the Resurrection and the Ascension against the "materialists" who put such Christian myths on a level with Pagan, so do the expert demonstrators of the bare historicity of the now undeified God establish by vituperation and derision, declamation and contempt, the supreme certainty of the minimum after all the supernatural certainties are gone. Even as Swiss patriots undertook to demonstrate "somebody" and "something" behind the legend of William Tell when it had ceased to be possible to burn men at the stake for exposing the apple-myth, so do the descendants of the demonstrators of the real presence now go about to make clear the real existence. I speak, of course, of the ruck of the vindicators, not of the believers; and Professor Schmiedel and M. Loisy, I trust, will not suspect me of classing them with men many of whom are as hostile to them as to the thesis which those scholars seek by rational methods to confute. Professor Schmiedel has even avowed that a proof of the non-historicity of the Gospel Jesus would not affect his inner religious opinions; and such high detachment has been attained to by others. That civilized scholars credit, and might at a pinch maintain in debate, the historicity of the Gospel Jesus as calmly as they might the historicity of Lycurgus against its impugners, I am well aware. And to such readers, if I have the honour to obtain any, I address not a warning but an appeal. There is an attitude towards the problem which incurs no reproach on the score of tone and temper, and which will naturally recommend itself all the more to men of real culture, but which yet, I think, only illustrates in another way the immense difficulty of all-round intellectual vigilance. Let me give an example in an extract from a rather noteworthy pronouncement upon the question in hand:-- Of Paul's divine Master no biography can ever be written. We have a vivid impression of an unique, effulgent personality. We have a considerable body of sayings which must be genuine because they are far too great to have been invented by His disciples, and, for the rest, whatever royal robes and tributes of devotion the Church of A.D. 70-100 thought most fitting for its king. The Gospels are the creation of faith and love: faith and love hold the key to their interpretation. (Canon Inge, art. "St. Paul" in Quarterly Review, Jan., 1914, p. 45.) I am not here concerned to ask whether the closing words are the expression of an orthodox belief; or what orthodoxy makes of the further proposition that "With St. Paul it is quite different. He is a saint without a luminous halo." The idea seems to be that concerning the saint without a nimbus we can get at the historical truth, while in the other case we cannot--a proposition worth orthodox attention. But what concerns the open-minded investigator is the logic of the words I have italicized. It is obvious that they proceed (1) on the assumption that what non-miraculous biography the Gospels give is in the main absolutely trustworthy--that is to say, that the accounts of the disciples and the teaching are historical; and (2) on the assumption that we are historically held to the traditional view that the Gospel sayings originated with the alleged Founder as they purport. It is necessary to point out that this is not a licit historical induction. Even Canon Inge by implication admits that not all the Gospel sayings have the quality which he regards as certifying authenticity; and on no reasonable ground can he claim that the others must have been "invented by the disciples." The alternative is spurious. No one is in a position to deny that any given saying may have been invented by non-disciples. In point of fact, many professional theologians are agreed in tracing to outside sources some tolerably fine passages, such as the address to Jerusalem (Mt. xxiii, 37; Lk. xiii, 34). The critics in question do not ascribe that deliverance to inventive disciples; they infer it to have been a non-Christian document. Many other critics, again, now pronounce the whole Sermon on the Mount--regarded by Baur as signally genuine--a compilation from earlier Hebrew literature, Biblical and other. Which then are the "great" sayings that could not be thus accounted for? Without specification there can be no rational discussion of the problem; and even the proposition about the exegetic function of "faith and love" affects to be in itself rational. The plain truth would seem to be that Canon Inge has formed for himself no tenable critical position. He has merely reiterated the fallacy of Mill, who in his Three Essays on Religion (pp. 253-54) wrote:-- Whatever else may be taken away from us by rational criticism, Christ is still left; a unique figure, not more unlike all his precursors than all his followers, even those who had the direct benefit of his personal teaching. It is of no use to say that Christ as exhibited in the Gospels is not historical, and that we know not how much of what is admirable has been superadded by the tradition of his followers. The tradition of followers suffices to insert any number of marvels, and may have inserted all the miracles which he is reputed to have wrought. But who among his disciples or among their proselytes was capable of inventing the sayings ascribed to Jesus, or of imagining the life and character revealed in the Gospels? Certainly not the fishermen of Galilee; as certainly not St. Paul, whose character and idiosyncrasies were of a totally different sort; still less the early Christian writers, in whom nothing is more evident than that the good which was in them was all derived, as they always professed that it was derived, from the higher source. What could be added and interpolated by a disciple we may see in the mystical parts of St. John, matter imported from Philo and the Alexandrian Platonists and put into the mouth of the Saviour in long speeches about himself such as the other Gospels contain not the slightest vestige of, though pretended to have been delivered on occasions of the deepest interest and when his principal followers were all present; most prominently at the last supper. The East was full of men who could have stolen (!) any quantity of this poor stuff, as the multitudinous Oriental sects of Gnostics afterwards did. But about the life and sayings of Jesus there is a stamp of personal originality combined with profundity of insight which, if we abandon the idle expectation of finding scientific precision where something very different was aimed at, must place the Prophet of Nazareth, even in the estimation of those who have no belief in his inspiration, in the very first rank of men of sublime genius of whom our species can boast. When this pre-eminent genius is combined with the qualities of probably the greatest moral reformer, and martyr to that mission, who ever existed on earth, religion [sic] cannot be said to have made a bad choice in pitching on this man as the ideal representative and guide of humanity.... Add that, to the conception of the rational sceptic, it remains a possibility that Christ actually was what he supposed himself to be--not God, for he never made the smallest pretension to that character, and would probably have thought such a pretension as blasphemous as it seemed to the men who condemned him--but a man charged with a special, express, and unique commission from God to lead mankind to truth and virtue.... Ein historischer Kopf hatte er nicht, is a German economist's criticism of Mill which I fear will have to stand in other fields than that of economics. The man who wrote this unmeasured dithyramb can never have read the Gospels and the Hebrew books with critical attention; and can never have reflected critically upon his own words in this connection. The assumption that "the fishermen of Galilee" could not have attained to thoughts which are expressly alleged to have been put forth by an untaught carpenter of Galilee is on the face of it a flight of thoughtless declamation. Had Mill ever critically read the Old Testament and the Apocrypha, he must have been aware that the main precepts of the Sermon on the Mount, which are presumably among the unspecified objects of his panegyric, were all there beforehand. Had he taken the trouble to investigate before writing, he could have found in Hennell's Inquiry (1838), which popularized the old research of Schoettgen; in Nork's Rabbinische Quellen und Parallelen (1839); and in Les Origines du Sermon de la Montagne by Hippolyte Rodrigues (1868), a copious demonstration of the Jewish currency of every moral idea in the Christian document, often in saner forms. And he ought to have known from his own reading that the doctrine of forgiveness for injuries, which appears to be the main ground for the customary panegyric of the Sermon, was common to Greeks and Romans before the Gospels were compiled. From the duty of giving alms freely--which is repeatedly laid down in the Old Testament--to that of the sin of concupiscence and the wrongness of divorce for trivial causes, every moral idea in the Sermon had been formulated alike by Jews and Gentiles beforehand. [3] And if it be argued that the compilation of such a set of precepts with a number of religious dicta (equally current in non-Christian Jewry) is evidence of a special ethical or religious gift in the compiler, the answer is that precisely the fact of such a compilation is the disproof of the assertion in the Gospels that the whole was delivered as a sermon on a mountain. A sermon it never was and never could be; and if the compiler was a man of unique character and qualification he was not the Gospel Jesus but the very type of which Mill denied the possibility! That the Gospel ethic is non-original becomes more and more clear with every extension of relevant research. The Testaments of the Twelve Patriarchs, written between 109 and 106 B.C. by a Quietist Pharisee, is found to yield not only origins or anticipations for pseudo-historic data in the Gospels but patterns for its moral doctrine. Thus the notion that the Twelve Apostles are to rule over the tribes in the Messianic kingdom is merely an adaptation of the teaching in the Testaments that the twelve sons of Jacob are so to rule. [4] There too appears for the first time in Jewish literature the formula "on His right hand"; [5] and a multitude of close textual parallels clearly testify to perusal of the book by the Gospel-framers and the epistle-makers. But above all is the Jewish book the original for the doctrines of forgiveness and brotherly love. Whereas the Old Testament leaves standing the ethic of revenge alongside of the prescription to forgive one's enemy, the Testaments give out what a highly competent Christian editor pronounces to be "the most remarkable statement on the subject of forgiveness in all ancient literature. They show a wonderful insight into the true psychology of the question. So perfect are the parallels in thought and diction between these verses [Test. Gad, vi, 3-7] and Luke xvii, 3; Matt. xviii, 15, 35, that we must assume our Lord's acquaintance with them. The meaning of forgiveness in both cases is the highest and noblest known to us--namely, the restoring the offender to communion with us, which he had forfeited through his offence.... We now see the importance of our text. It shows that pre-Christian Judaism possessed a noble system of ethics on the subject of forgiveness." [6] Here the tribute goes to a Pharisee; in another connection it redounds to the other butt of Christian disparagement, the Scribes. As our editor points out, the collocation of the commands to love God and one's neighbour is even in Luke (x, 25-27) assigned not to Jesus but to a Scribe. But this too is found in the Testaments. "That the two great commandments were already conjoined in the teaching of the Scribes at the time of our Lord we may reasonably infer from our text, [7] which was written 140 years earlier, and from the account in Luke." [8] And here too, a century before the Christian era, we have a Jewish predication of the salvation of the Gentiles, [9] in the patronizing Jewish sense. It is only for men partly hypnotized by sectarian creed that there can be anything surprising in these anticipations. The notion that Sacred Books contain the highest and rarest thought of their respective periods is a delusion that any critical examination of probabilities will destroy. Relatively high and rare thought does not find its way into Sacred Books; what these present is but the thought that is perceptible and acceptable to the majority, or a strong minority, of the better people; and it is never purified of grave imperfection, precisely because these never are. Perfect ethic is the possession of the perfect people, an extremely rare species. The ethic of the Testaments, which is an obvious improvement on that of average Jewry, is in turn imperfect enough; even as that of the Gospels remains stamped with Jewish particularism, and is irretrievably blemished by the grotesquely iniquitous doctrine of damnation for non-belief. Such asseverations as Mill's, constantly repeated as they are by educated men, are simply expressions of failure to comprehend the nature and the possibilities of life, of civilization, of history. The thesis is that in a world containing no one else capable of elevated thought, moral or religious, there suddenly appeared a marvellously inspired teacher, who chose a dozen disciples incapable of comprehending his doctrine, and during the space of one or many years--no one can settle whether one or two or three or four or ten or twenty--went about alternately working miracles and delivering moral and religious sayings (including a doctrine of eternal hell-fire for the unrepentant wicked, among whom were included all who refused to accept the new teaching); and that after the execution of the teacher on a charge of blasphemy or sedition the world found itself in possession of a supernormal moral and religious code, which constituted the greatest "moral reform" in the world's history. The very conception is a chimera. In a world in which no one could independently think the teacher's moral thoughts there could be no acceptance of them. If the code was pronounced good, it was so pronounced in terms of the moral nature and moral convictions of those who made the pronouncement. The very propagandists of the creed after a few generations were found meeting gainsayers with the formula anima naturaliter Christiana. Christianity made its way precisely because (1) it was a construction from current moral and religious material; and because (2) it adopted a system of economic organization already tested by Jews and Gentiles; and (3) because its doctrines were ascribed to a God, not to a man. Anything like a moral renovation of the world it never effected; that conception is a chimera of chimeras. While Mill, the amateur in matters of religious research, who "scarcely ever read a theological book," [10] ascribed to Christian morality a unique and original quality, Newman, the essentially religious man, deliberately affirmed with the Rationalists that "There is little in the ethics of Christianity which the human mind may not reach by its natural powers, and which here or there ... has not in fact been anticipated." [11] And Baur, who gave his life and his whole powers to the problem which Mill assumed to dispose of by a dithyramb, put in a sentence the historic truth which Mill so completely failed to grasp:-- How soon would everything true and important that was taught by Christianity have been relegated to the order of the long-faded sayings of the noble humanitarians and thinking sages of antiquity, had not its teachings become words of eternal life in the mouth of its Founder! [12] And a distinguished Scottish theologian and scholar has laid it down that there is probably not a single moral precept in the Christian Scriptures which is not substantially also in the Chinese classics. There is certainly not an important principle in Bishop Butler's ethical teachings which had not been explicitly set forth by Mencius in the fourth century B.C. The Chinese thinker of that date had anticipated the entire moral theory of man's constitution expounded so long afterwards by the most famous of English moral philosophers. [13] CHAPTER III ILLUSIONS AS TO GOSPEL ETHIC Strictly speaking, the whole problem of the moral value and the historical effects of Christianity lies outside the present issue; but we are forced to face it when the question of the truth of its historic basis is dismissed by a professed logician with a rhetorical thesis to the effect that "religion cannot be said to have made a bad choice in pitching on" the personality of which he is challenged to prove the historicity. Mill answers the challenge by begging the question; and where he was capable of such a course multitudes, lay and clerical, will long continue to be so. For Mill the problem was something extraneous to his whole way of thought. Broadly speaking, he never handled a historical problem, properly so called. Other defenders of the historicity of Jesus, in turn, charge a want of historic sense upon all who venture to put the hypothesis that the Gospel Jesus is a mythical creation. The charge has been repeatedly made by men who can make no pretence of having ever independently elucidated any historical problem; and in one notable case, that of Dr. J. Estlin Carpenter, it is made by a scholar who has committed himself to the assertion of the historicity of Krishna. Such resorts to blank asseveration in such matters are on all fours with the blank asseveration that the Gospel Jesus, in virtue of the teachings ascribed to him, is a figure too sublime for human invention. The slightest reflection might obtrude the thought that it is precisely the invented figure that can most easily be made quasi-sublime. Is it pretended that Yahweh is not sublime? Is the Book of Job pretended to be historical? The Gospel Jesus is never shown to us save in a series of statuesque presentments, healing, preaching, prophesying, blessing, denouncing, suffering; he is expressly detached from domestic relationships; of his life apart from his Messianic career there is not a vestige of trace that is not nakedly mythical; of his mental processes there is not an attempt at explanation save in glosses often palpably incompetent; and of his plan or purpose, his hopes or expectations, no exegete has ever framed a non-theological theory that will stand an hour's examination. Those who claim as an evidence of uniqueness the fact that he is never accused by the evangelists of any wrong act do but prove their unpreparedness to debate any of the problems involved. A figure presented as divine, in a document that aims at establishing a cult, is ipso facto denuded of errancy so far as the judgment of the framers of the picture can carry them. But all that the framers and redactors of the Gospels could achieve was to outline a figure answering to their standards of perfection, free of what they regarded as sin or error. Going to work in an age and an environment in which ascetic principles were commonly posited as against normal practice, they guard the God from every suggestion of carnal appetite; and the dialecticians of faith childishly ask us to contrast him with ancient Pagan deities whose legends are the unsifted survivals of savage folklore. As if any new Sacred Book in the same age would not have proceeded on the same standards; and as if the religious Jewish literature of the age of Christian beginnings were not as ascetic as the other. But inasmuch as the compilers of the Gospels could not transcend the moral standard of their time, they constantly obtrude its limitations and its blemishes. Had Mill attempted anything beyond his dithyramb, he would have been hard put to it to apply his ecstatic epithets to such teachings as these:-- Repent ye, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand. Till heaven and earth pass away, one jot or tittle shall in no wise pass away from the law [of Moses]. Whosoever shall say, Thou fool, shall be in danger of the hell of fire. [Compare Matt. xxiii, 17: "Ye fools and blind"; and Luke xii, 20: "Thou fool, this night thy soul shall be required of thee."] Whosoever shall marry her [the woman divorced without good cause] shall commit adultery. Give to him that asketh thee. Lay not up for yourselves treasures upon the earth. Seek ye first [God's] kingdom and his righteousness; and all these things [that were to be disregarded] shall be added unto you. Beware of false prophets, which come to you in sheep's clothing, but inwardly are ravening wolves. [Compare the warning against saying, Thou fool.] Go not into any way of the Gentiles, and enter not into any city of the Samaritans. Whosoever shall not receive you, ... as ye go forth out of that house or that city, shake off the dust of your feet. Verily I say unto you, it shall be more tolerable for the land of Sodom and Gomorrah in the day of judgment than for that city. I send you forth as sheep in the midst of wolves. Think not that I come to send peace on the earth: I came not to send peace, but a sword.... He that loveth father or mother more than me is not worthy of me. It shall be more tolerable for Tyre and Sidon in the day of judgment than for you [Chorazin and Bethsaida; because of non-acceptance of the teacher].... It shall be more tolerable for the land of Sodom in the day of judgment than for you. Every idle word that men shall speak, they shall give account thereof in the day of judgment. Therefore speak I to them in parables, because seeing they see not, and hearing they hear not, neither do they understand. In the end of the world the angels shall ... sever the wicked from the righteous, and shall cast them into the furnace of fire. In vain do they worship me, teaching as their doctrines the precepts of men. Is it not lawful for me to do what I will with mine own? [retort for the employer who pays the same for a day's work and for an hour's]. If ye have faith and doubt not ... even if ye shall say unto this mountain, Be thou taken up and cast into the sea, it shall be done. And his lord commended the unrighteous steward because he had done wisely.... And I say unto you, Make to yourselves friends by means of the mammon of unrighteousness; that, when it shall fail, they may receive you into the eternal tabernacles. I say unto you that unto everyone that hath shall be given; but from him that hath not shall be taken away even that which he hath. And his lord was wroth, and delivered him to the tormentors.... So also shall my heavenly Father do unto you, if ye forgive not everyone his brother from your hearts. When such a mass of unmanageable doctrines is forced on the notice of the dithyrambists, there promptly begins a process of elimination--the method of Arnold, to which Mill would doubtless have subscribed, denying as he did that Jesus ever claimed to be the Son of God. Whatever is not sweetly reasonable in the Gospels, said Arnold, cannot be the word of Jesus; let us then pick and choose as we will. And justly enough may it be argued that we have been listening to different voices. It cannot be the same man who prohibited all anger, vetoing even the use of "Thou fool," and then proceeded to vituperate Scribes and Pharisees in the mass as sons of hell; to curse a barren tree; and to call the erring "Ye fools and blind"--any more than it was the same man who said, "I am meek and lowly in heart," and "A greater than Solomon is here," or annulled precepts of the law after declaring that not a jot or tittle of it should pass away. But with what semblance of critical righteousness shall it be pretended that in a compilation thus palpably composite it was the teacher who said all the right things and others who said all the wrong, when as a matter of documentary fact the better sayings can all be paralleled in older or contemporary writings? That challenge is never so much as faced by the dithyrambists; to face it honestly would be the beginning of their end. Some seem prepared to stake all on such a teaching as the parable of the Good Samaritan, which actually teaches that a man of the religiously despised race could humanely succour one of the despising race when religious men of the same race passed him by. Is the parable then assimilated by those who stress it? Can they conceive that a Samaritan could so act? If yes, why cannot they conceive that a Samaritan, or another Jew than one, could put forth such a doctrine? Here is a story of actual human-kindness, paralleled in a hundred tales and romances of later times, a story which, appealing as it does to every reader, may reasonably be believed to have been enacted a thousand times by simple human beings who never heard of the Gospels. Yet we are asked to believe that only one Jewish or Gentile mind in the age of Virgil was capable of drawing the moral that the kindly and helpful soul is the true neighbour, and that the good man will be neighbourly to all; so rebuking the tribalism of the average Jew. When, fifteen years ago, I wrote of "the moderate ethical height of the parable of the Good Samaritan, which is partly precedented in Old Testament teaching [Deut. xxiii, 7--an interpolation; cp. the Book of Ruth]," Dr. J. E. Carpenter indignantly replied: "The field of Greek literature is open; will Mr. Robertson take the Good Samaritan and from Plato to Plotinus find his match?" And the Rev. Thomas James Thorburn, D.D., LL.D., in his later work Jesus the Christ: Historical or Mythical? (1912), wrote (p. 68):-- Dr. Estlin Carpenter has invited (we believe, in vain!) Mr. Robertson to produce an equal to this same parable out of the whole range of Greek literature, which undoubtedly contains the choicest teaching of the ancient world. Dr. Thorburn in his bibliography cited the first and second (1912) editions of Pagan Christs; he thoughtfully omitted, in launching his "we believe, in vain!", to ascertain whether there had been a second edition of Christianity and Mythology, in which any reply I might have to make to Dr. Carpenter might naturally be expected to appear, that critic having challenged the proposition as put in the first edition. A second edition had appeared, in 1910, and there I had duly given the simple answer which the two learned Doctors of Divinity, so conscious of knowing all Greek literature from Plato to Plotinus, were unable to think of for themselves. The field of Greek literature, as Dr. Carpenter justly observes, is open; and it would have been fitting on his part to perambulate a little therein. The demanded instance lay to the hand of unlearned people in so familiar an author as Plutarch--in the tale of Lycurgus and Alcander. As Dr. Thorburn and Dr. Carpenter, however, must be supposed to have been ignorant of that story, it may be well to tell it briefly here. Lycurgus having greatly exasperated the rich citizens by proposing the institution of frugal common meals, they made a tumult and stoned him in the market-place, so that he had to run for sanctuary in a temple. But one of his pursuers, a violent youth named Alcander, caught up with him, and, striking him with a club as he turned round, dashed out one of his eyes. Lycurgus then stood calmly facing the citizens, letting them see his bleeding face, and his eye destroyed. All who saw him were filled with shame and remorse. They gave up Alcander to his mercy, and conducted Lycurgus in procession to his house to show their sympathy. He thanked them and dismissed them, but kept Alcander with him. He did him no harm, and used no reproachful words, but kept him as his servant, sending away all others. And Alcander, dwelling with Lycurgus, noting his serenity of temper and simplicity of life and his unwearying labours, became his warmest admirer, and ever after told his friends that Lycurgus was the best of men. In one version of the tale Lycurgus gave back his freedom to Alcander in presence of the citizens, saying, You gave me a bad citizen; I give you back a good one. If our Doctors of Divinity are unable to see that this represents a rarer strain of goodness than the deed of the Good Samaritan, they must be told that they are lacking in that very moral judgment upon which they plume themselves. Forever sitting in the chair of judgment, defaming all who dissent from them, they are ethically less percipient than the cultured laity. Thousands of kindly human beings, I repeat, have succoured wounded strangers, even those of hostile races; and the tone held over the Gospel parable by some Christians is but the measure of their misconception of human nature. Their sectarian creed has bred in them a habit of aspersing all humanity, all character, save the Christian, thus stultifying the very lesson of their parable, the framer of which would fain have taught men to transcend these very fanaticisms. They will not be "neighbours" to the pagan to the extent of crediting him with their own appreciation of magnanimity and human-kindness; they cannot even discuss his claim without seeking arrogantly to browbeat his favourers. Forever acclaiming the beauty of the command to forgive injuries, they cannot even debate without insolence where they know their sectarian claims are called in question. And I shall be agreeably disappointed if they proceed to handle the tale of Lycurgus and Alcander without seeking to demonstrate that somehow it falls below the level of the Gospels, where, as it happens, the endurance of violence and death by the God-man is in effect presented as God-like. But for that matter, even the oft-cited saying "Father, forgive them," occurs only in Luke of all the Gospels, and, being absent from two of the most ancient codices, betrays itself as a late addition to the text. It may be either Jewish or Gentile. For Plutarch, the Spartan tale is something edifying and gratifying, but he makes no parade of it as a marvel; and in his essay Of Profiting by our Enemies he speaks of the forgiveness of enemies as a thing not rarely to be met with:-- To forbear to be revenged of an enemy if opportunity and occasion is offered, and to let him go when he is in thy hands, is a point of great humanity and courtesy; but him that hath compassion of him when he is fallen into adversity, succoureth him in distress, at his request is ready to show goodwill to his children, and an affection to sustain the state of his house and family being in affliction, who doth not love for this kindness, nor praise the goodness of his nature? (Holland's translation.) Had that passage appeared in a Gospel, how would not our Doctors of Divinity have exclaimed over the moral superiority of Christian ethic, demonstrating that it alone appealed to the heart! In actual fact we find them denying that such passages exist. The most disgraceful instance known to me appears to implicate an Austrian theologian. In the "Editor's Forewords" to the Early English Text Society's volume of Queen Elizabeth's Englishings there is a note on Plutarch's De Curiositate, àpropos of Elizabeth's translation of that essay:-- In De Curiositate, as well as in his other writings, Plutarch proves himself to be a true Stoic philosopher, to possess first-rate moral principles and great fear of God.... His religious views sometimes remind us, like those of Seneca, of Christian teaching; but here there is always one important omission--viz., the commendation of charity or brotherly love; of this Christian virtue the stoic, so virtuous in his own relations, knows absolutely nothing. At the close of the "Forewords" the Editor, Miss Caroline Pemberton, mentions that "The comments on the writings of Boethius and Plutarch are by Dr. J. Schenk, of Meran, Tyrol." To Dr. Schenk, then, must apparently be credited the high-water mark in Christian false-witness against paganism. Either he did or he did not know that Plutarch in other writings had given full expression to the ethic of brotherly love. If he did not know, he was not only framing a wanton libel in sheer ignorance but giving a particularly deadly proof of his own destitution of the very virtue he was so unctuously denying to the pagan. A man devoid not merely of charity but of decent concern for simple justice poses as a moral teacher in virtue of his Christianism; even as the professional encomiasts of the parable of the Good Samaritan demonstrate their own blindness to its meaning, playing the Levite to the Pagan. Plutarch, so much better a man than his Christian critic, was in turn no innovator in ethics. As every student knows, such doctrines as those above cited from him are far older than the Christian religion. Five centuries before the Christian era Confucius put the law of reciprocity in the sane form of the precept that we should not do unto others what we would not that they should do unto us. Are we to suppose that the rule had been left to Confucius to invent? Christians who cannot conform to it are not ashamed to disparage the precept of Confucius as a "negative" teaching, implying that there is a higher moral strain in their formula which prescribes the doing to others what we would wish them to do to us. There, if any difference of code be really intended, we are urged to confer benefits in order to have them returned. If no difference is intended, the disparagement is mere deceit. In the ancient Hindu epic, the Mahâbhârata, it is declared that "The Gods regard with delight the man who ... when struck does not strike again," and that "The good, when they promote the welfare of others, expect no reciprocity." How long are we to listen to the childish claim that moral maxims which in India were delivered millenniums ago by forgotten men were framable in Seneca's day only in Syria, and there only by one "unique and effulgent" personality, whose mere teaching lifted humanity to new heights? Had no nameless man or woman in Greece ever urged the beauty of non-retaliation before Plato? If clerics cannot rise above the old disingenuous sectarian spirit, it is time at least that laymen should. The more historic comprehension a man has of the ancient world, of Plutarch's world, with all its sins and delusions, the less can he harbour the notion of the moral miracle involved in the thesis of the unique teacher, suddenly revealing to an amazed humanity heights of moral aspiration before undreamt of. And any considerate scrutiny of the logia of the Gospels will inevitably force the open-minded student to recognize multiplicity of thought and ideal, and compel him to seek some explanation. An effort to detach a possible personality by the elimination of impossible adjuncts is the next natural step. CHAPTER IV THE METHOD OF BLUSTER For anyone who will soberly and faithfully face the facts there must sooner or later arise the problem, Is there any unifying personality behind this medley of many sets of doctrines, many voices, many schools? Even if it were possible to piece together from it a coherent body of either ethical or religious thought, and jettison the rest, is there any reason to believe that the selected matter belongs to the Gospel Teacher with the Twelve Disciples, crucified on the morning after the Passover under Pontius Pilate? When the crowning doctrine of sacrament and sacrifice is seen to be but the consummation of a religious lore beginning in prehistoric and systematic human sacrifice, and traceable in a score of ancient cults, is it possible to claim that the palpably dramatic record of Last Supper, Agony, Betrayal, Trial, and Crucifixion is a historic record of a strange coincidence between cult practice and biography? And if that goes, what is left? If, says Loisy, the condemnation of Jesus as pretended Messiah by Pilate "could be put in doubt, one would have no motive for affirming the existence of Christ." [14] And it can! Some, assuming to settle the problem by rhetoric, in effect stand for a "personality" without any pretence of establishing what the "personality" taught. And this inexpensive device will doubtless long continue to be practised by the large class who insist upon solving all such problems by instinct. An example of that procedure is afforded by an article headed "A Barren Controversy," by the Rev. Frederick Sinclair, in a magazine entitled Fellowship, the organ of the Free Religious Fellowship, Melbourne, issue of March, 1915. The controversy is certainly barren enough as Mr. Sinclair conducts it. His religious temper is of a familiar type. "It is a hard task to prove the obvious," he begins; "and no obligation is laid on us to examine and refute the evidences alleged in support of this or that cock-and-bull theory." We can imagine how the reverend critic would have shone in the sixteenth or the seventeenth century, disposing of the Copernican theory, which so presumptuously assailed "the obvious." True to his principles, he does not hamper himself by meeting arguments or evidence. "Mythical theories about Christ have about as much scientific value and importance as the theories of the Baconians about Shakespeare. They ... are products ... of that perverted credulity which will swallow anything, so long as it is not orthodox; and they are best met by the method of satire adopted by Whately in his 'Historic Doubts' on Napoleon." And yet our expert renounces that admirable instrument in favour of the simpler procedure vulgarly known as "bluff." He is in reality a good example of the psychosis of the very Baconism which he contemns, and which he would probably be quite unable to confute. An æsthetic impression of "reality" derived from a hypnotized perusal of Mark, and a feeling that only one man could deliver such oracles, are the beginning and end of his dialectic and scholarly stock-in-trade; even as a consciousness that Bacon must be the author of the Plays, and that the actor Shakespeare could not have written them, is the beginning and end of the ignorant polemic of the Baconists. To do him justice, it should be noted that Mr. Sinclair warns his readers both before and after his case that his handling of the theme and their preparation for estimating it leave a great deal to be desired by those who care to see applied "the method of careful criticism." Still, he is satisfied that it is "adequate to the particular question we have been considering." And this is how Mr. Sinclair has considered:-- Anyone who will pay this controversy the compliment of a few hours' consideration is advised to bring his own judgment to bear on it in the following way: Let him begin by taking a copy of St. Mark's Gospel, which is the earliest of the four, in either of the English versions, and read it through, pencil in hand, striking out all the miraculous or quasi-miraculous stories. Then, gathering up what remains, let him read it, first as a whole, then singly, episode by episode, always keeping the eye of the imagination open, dismissing as far as possible any prepossessions, and letting the author make his own impression, without the interfering offices of critic or commentator. Having done this, let the reader ask of himself of each story: Is this a story which seems to belong to actual life, to be told of a real human being, with distinct individuality, or is it rather a literary invention, designed to add something to a conventional figure? Does the narrative move with the freedom and variety of life, or does it fit into a conventional, symmetrical design? Does the writer's style and method arouse the suspicion of literary artifice? Must one say of this or that story that its reality is the reality of life, or of an art which cunningly counterfeits life? The open-minded reader, I trust, will hardly need to be told that what is here done is to set a false problem and ignore the real issue. Mr. Sinclair either cannot understand that issue or elects to evade it. Probably the former is the explanation. No critic of the Gospels, so far as I remember, ever suggested that any of them "cunningly counterfeits life"; and certainly no one ever pretended that Mark [15] exhibits a "conventional, symmetrical design," though Wilke argued that it "freely moulded the traditional historical material in pursuance of literary aims," and B. Weiss praises its literary colouring. It is a heap of unreal incident, fortuitously collocated, [16] and showing nothing approaching to symmetrical design. "Conventional" raises another question; in this as in all the Gospels there is plenty of convention. Let us but follow for a little the simple method of selection prescribed by Mr. Sinclair, and see what we get. What we are to make of Mark i, 1-9, is far from clear. It sets forth the advent of John as the fulfilment of a prophecy--i.e., a miracle; and it describes his mission in the baldest conceivable summary, save for the sentence: "And John was clothed with camel's hair, and had a leathern girdle about his loins, and did eat locusts and wild honey." Is this "convention" or "reality"? I am not inclined to call it "literary artifice," unless we are to apply that description to the beginning of the average nursery tale, as perhaps we should. What must strike the inquiring reader is that if we were to have a touch of "reality" about the Baptist we should be told something about his inner history, his antecedents, and what he preached. What we are told is that "he preached, saying, There cometh after me he that is mightier than I.... I baptized you with water; but he shall baptize you with the Holy Spirit." If this part of the narrative has not been "struck out" by Mr. Sinclair's neophytes as plainly belonging to the miraculous, the next five verses presumably must be. The non-miraculous narrative begins at v. 14:-- Now, after that John was delivered up, Jesus came into Galilee, preaching the Gospel of God, and saying, The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God is at hand; repent ye, and believe in the Gospel [not a word of which has been communicated]. And passing along by the sea of Galilee, he saw Simon and Andrew the brother of Simon casting a net in the sea; for they were fishers. And Jesus said unto them, Come ye after me, and I will make you to become fishers of men. And straightway they left the nets, and followed him. And going on a little further, he saw James the son of Zebedee and John his brother, who also were in the boat mending the nets. And straightway he called them; and they left their father Zebedee in the boat with the hired servants, and went after him. This "episode," for Mr. Sinclair, "seems to belong to real life, to be told of a real human being with distinct individuality." For critical readers it is a primitive "conventional" narrative, told by a writer who has absolutely no historic knowledge to communicate. Of the preaching of the Saviour he has no more to tell than of the preaching of the Baptist. Both are as purely "conventional," so far, as an archaic statue of Hermes. Of "the freedom and variety of life" there is not a trace; Mr. Sinclair, who professes to find these qualities, is talking in the manner of a showman at a fair. The important process of making disciples resolves itself into a fairy tale: "Come and I will make you fishers of men; and they came." A measure of "literary artifice" is perhaps to be assigned to the items of "casting a net," "mending the net," and "left their father in the boat with the hired servants"; [17] but it is the literary art of a thousand fairy tales, savage and civilized, and stands for the method of a narrator who is dealing with purely conventional figures, not with characters concerning which he has knowledge. The calling of the first disciples in the rejected Fourth Gospel has much more semblance of reality. If the cautious reader is slow to see these plain facts on the pointing of one who is avowedly an unbeliever in the historic tradition, let him listen to a scholar of the highest eminence, who, after proving himself a master in Old Testament criticism, set himself to specialize on the New. Says Wellhausen: "The Gospel of Mark, in its entirety, lacks the character of history." [18] And he makes good his judgment in detail:-- Names of persons are rare: even Jairus is not named in [codex] D. Among the dramatis personæ it is only Jesus who distinctively speaks and acts; the antagonists provoke him; the disciples are only figures in the background. But of what he lived by, how he dwelt, ate, and drank, bore himself with his companions, nothing is vouchsafed. It is told that he taught in the synagogue on the Sabbath, but no notion is given of the how; we get only something of what he said outside the synagogue, usually through a special incident which elicits it. The normal things are never related, only the extraordinary.... The scantiness of the tradition is remarkable. [19] The local connection of the events, the itinerary, leaves as much to be desired as the chronological; seldom is the transit indicated in the change of scene. Single incidents are often set forth in a lively way, and this without any unreal or merely rhetorical devices, but they are only anecdotally related, rari nantes in gurgite vasto. They do not amount to material for a life of Jesus. And one never gets the impression that an attempt had been made among those who had eaten and drunk with him to give others a notion of his personality. [20] Wellhausen, it is true, finds suggestions of a real and commanding personality; but they are very scanty, the only concrete detail being the watching the people as they drop their offerings into the collecting-chest! "Passionate moral sensibility distinguishes him. He gives way to divine feeling in anger against the oppressors of the people and in sympathy with the lowly." But here too there is qualification:-- But in Mark this motive for miracles seldom comes out. They are meant to be mainly displays of the Messiah's power. Mark does not write de vita et moribus Jesu: he has not the aim of making his person distinguishable, or even intelligible. It is lost for him in the divine vocation; he means to show that Jesus is the Christ. [21] Then we have a significant balancing between the perception that Mark is not history, and that, after all, it is practically all there is:-- Already the oral tradition which he found had been condensed under the influence of the standpoint from which he set out. He is silent on this and that which he can omit as being known to his readers--for instance, the names of the parents of Jesus (!). Nevertheless, he has left little that is properly historical for his successors to glean after him; and what they know in addition is of doubtful worth.... Why is not something more, and something more trustworthy, reported of the intercourse of the Master with his disciples? It would rather seem that the narrative tradition in Mark did not come directly from the intimates of Jesus. It has on the whole a somewhat rude and demotic cast, as if it had previously by a long circulation in the mouth of the people come to the rough and drastic style in which it lies before us.... Mark took up what the tradition carried to him. Such is the outcome of a close examination by an original scholar who takes for granted the historicity of Jesus. It is a poor support to a pretence of finding a lifelike narrative. If the reader under Mr. Sinclair's tutelage will at this point vary his study somewhat (at the cost of a few extra hours) by reading samples of quite primitive folk-lore--say the Hottentot Fables and Tales collected by Dr. Bleek, in which the characters are mostly, but not always, animals; or some of the fairy tales in Gill's Myths and Songs of the South Pacific--and then proceed to the tale of Tom Tit Tot, as given by Mr. Edward Clodd in the dialect of East Anglia, he will perhaps begin to realize that unsophisticated narrators not only can but frequently do give certain touches of quasi-reality to "episodes" which no civilized reader can suppose to have been real. In particular he will find in the vivacious Tom Tit Tot an amount of "the freedom and variety of life" in comparison with which the archaic stiffness and bareness of the Gospel narrative is as dumb-show beside drama. And if he will next pay some attention to the narrative of Homer, in which Zeus and Hêrê are so much more life-like than a multitude of the human personages of the epic, and then turn to see how Plutarch writes professed biography, some of it absolutely mythical, but all of it on a documentary basis of some kind, he will perhaps begin to suspect that Mr. Sinclair has not even perceived the nature of the problem on which he pronounces, and so is not in a position to "consider" it at all. Plutarch is nearly as circumstantial about Theseus and Herakles and Romulus as about Solon. But when he has real biographical material to go upon as to real personages he gives us a "freedom and variety of life" which is as far as the poles asunder from the hieratic figures of the Christian Gospel. Take his Fabius Maximus. After the pedigree, with its due touch of myth, we read:-- His own personal nickname was Verrucosus, because he had a little wart growing on his upper lip. The name of Ovicula, signifying sheep, was also given him while yet a child, because of his slow and gentle disposition. He was quiet and silent, very cautious in taking part in children's games, and learned his lessons slowly and with difficulty, which, combined with his easy obliging ways with his comrades, made those who did not know him think that he was dull and stupid. Few there were who could discern, hidden in the depths of his soul, his glorious and lion-like character. This is biography, accurate or otherwise. Take again the Life of Pericles, where after the brief account of parentage, with the item of the mother's dream, we get this:-- His body was symmetrical, but his head was long out of all proportion; for which reason in nearly all his statues he is represented wearing a helmet; as the sculptors did not wish, I suppose, to reproach him with this blemish.... Most writers tell us that his tutor in music was Damon, whose name they say should be pronounced with the first syllable short. Aristotle, however, says that he studied under Pythocleides. This Damon, it seems, was a sophist of the highest order.... The "biographer" who so satisfies Mr. Sinclair's sense of actuality has not one word of this kind to say of the youth, upbringing, birthplace, or appearance of the Teacher, who for him was either God or Supreme Man. Seeking for the alleged "freedom and variety of life" in the narrative, we go on to read:-- And they go into Capernaum; and straightway on the sabbath day he entered into the synagogue and taught. And they were astonished at his teaching: for he taught them as having authority, and not as the scribes. And straightway there was in their synagogue a man with an unclean spirit-- and straightway we are back in the miraculous. Mr. Joseph McCabe, who in his excellent book on the Sources of the Morality of the Gospels avows that he holds by the belief in a historical Jesus, though unable to assign to him with confidence any one utterance in the record, fatally anticipates Mr. Sinclair by remarking that "If the inquirer will try the simple and interesting experiment of eliminating from the Gospel of Mark all the episodes which essentially involve miracle, he will find the remainder of the narrative amazingly paltry." To which verdict does the independent reader begin to incline? Thus the "episodes" continue, after three paragraphs of the miraculous:-- And in the morning, a great while before day, he rose up and went out, and departed into a desert place, and there prayed. And Simon and they that were with him followed after him; and they found him, and say unto him, All are seeking thee. And he saith unto them, Let us go elsewhere into the next towns, that I may preach there also; for to this end came I forth. And he went into their synagogues throughout all Galilee, preaching and casting out devils. It would seem sufficient to say that Mr. Sinclair, with his "freedom and variety of life," is incapable of critical reflection upon what he reads. In the opening chapter we have not a single touch of actuality; the three meaningless and valueless touches of detail ("a great while before day" is the third) serve only to reveal the absolute deficit of biographical knowledge. We have reiterated statements that there was teaching, and not a syllable of what was taught. The only utterances recorded in the chapter are parts of the miracle-episodes, which we are supposed to ignore. Let us then consider the critic's further asseveration:-- It will be observed that certain distinct traits appear in the central figure, and that these traits are not merely those of the conventional religious hero, but the more simple human touches of anger, pity, indignation, despondency, exultation; these scattered touches, each so vivid, fuse into a natural and intelligible whole. The Jesus of Mark is a real man, who moves and speaks and feels like a man (!)--"a creature not too bright or good for human nature's daily food"-- a notable variation from the more familiar thesis of the "sublime" and "unique" figure of current polemic. Looking for the alleged details, we find Jesus calling the fifth disciple: "He saith unto him, Follow me. And he arose and followed him"--another touch of "freedom and variety." Then, after a series of Messianic utterances, including a pronouncement against Sabbatarianism of the extremer sort, comes the story of the healing of the withered hand, with its indignant allocution to "them" in the synagogue: "Is it lawful on the sabbath day to do good, or to do harm, to save a life or to kill?" Here, in a miracle story, we have an intelligible protest against Sabbatarianism: is it the protest or the indignation that vouches for the actuality of the protesting figure? Nay, if we are to elide the miraculous, how are we to let the allocution stand? These protests against Sabbatarianism, as it happens, are the first approximations to actuality in the document; and as such they raise questions of which the "instinctive" school appear to have no glimpse, but which we shall later have to consider closely. In the present connection, it may suffice to ask the question: Was anti-Sabbatarianism, or was it not, the first concrete issue raised by the alleged Teacher? In the case put, is it likely to have been? Were the miraculous healing of disease, and the necessity of feeding the disciples, with the corollary that the Son of Man was Lord of the Sabbath, salient features in a popular gospel of repentance in view of the coming of the Kingdom of God? If so, it is in flat negation of the insistence on the maintenance of the law in the Sermon on the Mount (Mt. v, 17-20), which thus becomes for us a later imposition on the cultus of a purely Judaic principle, in antagonism to the other. That is to say, a movement which began with anti-Sabbatarianism was after a time joined or directed by Sabbatarian Judaists, for whom the complete apparatus of the law was vital. If, on the other hand, recognizing that anti-Sabbatarianism, in the terms of the case, was not likely to be a primary element in the new teaching, that its first obtrusion in the alleged earliest Gospel is in an expressly Messianic deliverance, and its second in a miracle-story, we proceed to "strike out" both items upon Mr. Sinclair's ostensible principles, we are deprived of the first touch of "indignation" and "anger" which would otherwise serve to support his very simple thesis. CHAPTER V SCHMIEDEL AND DEROGATORY MYTH From this point onwards, every step in the investigation will be found to convict the Unitarian thesis of absolute nullity. It is indeed, on the face of it, an ignorant pronouncement. The characteristics of "anger, pity, indignation, despondency, exultation," are all present in the myth of Herakles, of whom Diodorus Siculus, expressly distinguishing between mythology and history, declares (i, 2) that "by the confession of all, during his whole life he freely undertook great and continual labours and dangers, in order that by doing good to the race of men he might win immortal fame." Herakles was, in fact, a Saviour who "went about doing good." [22] The historicity of Herakles is not on that score accepted by instructed men; though I have known divinity students no less contemptuous over the description of the cognate Samson saga as a sun myth than is Mr. Sinclair over the denial of the historicity of Jesus. So common a feature of a hundred myths, indeed, is the set of characteristics founded on, that we may at once come to the basis of his argument, a blundering reiteration of the famous thesis of Professor Schmiedel, who is the sole source of Mr. Sinclair's latent erudition. "The line of inquiry here suggested," he explains, "has been worked out in a pamphlet of Schmiedel, which will be found in the Fellowship library." But the dialectic which broadly avails for the Bible class will not serve their instructor here. The essence of the argument which Professor Schmiedel urges with scholarlike sobriety is thus put by Mr. Sinclair with the extravagance natural to his species:-- Many [compare Schmiedel!] of the stories represent him [Jesus] in a light which, from the point of view of conventional hero-worship, is even derogatory; his friends come to seize him as a madman; he is estranged from his own mother; he can do no mighty work in the unsympathetic atmosphere of his own native place. The traditionalist is here unconsciously substituting a new and different argument for the first. Hitherto the thesis has been that of the "vividness" of the record, the "human touches," the "speaking and feeling like a real man," the "freedom and variety of life." Apparently he has had a shadow of misgiving over these simple criteria. If, indeed, he had given an hour to the perusal of Albert Kalthoff's Rise of Christianity, instead of proceeding to vilipend a literature of which he had read nothing, he would have learned that his preliminary thesis is there anticipated and demolished. Kalthoff meets it by the simple observation that the books of Ruth and Jonah supply "human touches" and "freedom and variety of life" to a far greater degree than does the Gospel story considered as a life of Jesus; though practically all scholars are now agreed that both of the former books are deliberately planned fictions, or early "novels with a purpose." Ruth is skilfully framed to contend against the Jewish bigotry of race; and Jonah to substitute a humane ideal for the ferocious one embalmed in so much of the sacred literature. Yet so "vividly" are the central personages portrayed that down till the other day all the generations of Christendom, educated and uneducated alike, accepted them unquestioningly as real records, whatever might be thought by the judicious few of the miracle element in Jonah. It is thus ostensibly quite expedient to substitute for the simple thesis of "vividness" in regard to the second Gospel the quite different argument that some of the details exclude the notion that "the author" regarded Jesus as a supernatural person. But this thesis instantly involves the defence in fresh trouble, besides breaking down utterly on its own merits. In the early chapters of Mark, Jesus is emphatically presented as a supernormal person--the deity's "beloved Son," "the Holy One of God," who has the divine power of forgiving sins, is "lord even of the sabbath," and is hailed by the defeated spirits of evil as "the Son of God," and the "Son of the Most High God." Either the conception of Jesus in Mark vi is compatible with all this or it is not. If not, the case collapses, for the "derogatory" episode must be at once branded as an interpolation. And if it be argued that even as an interpolation it testifies at once to a non-supernaturalist view of the Founder's function and a real knowledge of his life and actions, we have only to give a list of more or less mythical names in rebuttal. To claim that the episode in Mark vi, 1-6, is "derogatory from the point of view of conventional hero-worship," and therefore presumptively historical, is to ignore alike Jewish and Gentile hero-worship. In the Old Testament Adam, Noah, Abraham, Jacob, Judah, Moses, Aaron, Samson, David, and Solomon are all successively placed in "derogatory" positions; and the Pagan hero-worshippers of antiquity are equally with the Jewish recalcitrant to Mr. Sinclair's conviction of what they ought to do. Professor Schmiedel is aware, though Mr. Sinclair apparently is not, that Herakles in the myth is repeatedly placed in "derogatory" positions, and is not only seized as a madman but actually driven mad. The reader who will further extend Mr. Sinclair's brief curriculum to a perusal of the Bacchæ of Euripides will find that the God, who in another story is temporarily driven mad by Juno, is there subjected to even greater indignities than those so triumphantly specified by our hierologist. Herakles and Dionysos, we may be told, were only demigods, not Gods. But Professor Schmiedel's thesis is that for the writer of Mark or of his original document Jesus was only a holy man. On the other hand--to say nothing of the myths of Zeus and Hêrê, Arês and Aphroditê, Hephaistos and Poseidon--Apollo, certainly a God for the framers of his myth, is there actually represented as being banished from heaven and living in a state of servitude to Admetus for nine years. A God, then, could be conceived in civilized antiquity as undergoing many and serious indignities. These simple à priori arguments are apt to miscarry even in the hands of careful and scrupulous scholars like Professor Schmiedel, who have failed to realize that no amount of textual scholarship can suffice to settle problems which in their very nature involve fundamental issues of anthropology, mythology, and hierology. As Professor Schmiedel is never guilty of browbeating, I make no disparagement of his solid work on the score that he has not taken account of these fields in his argument; but when his untenable thesis is brandished by men who have neither his form of scholarship nor any other, it is apt to incur summary handling. Elsewhere I have examined Professor Schmiedel's thesis in detail. [23] Here it may suffice to point out (1) as aforesaid, that the argument from derogatory treatment is not in the least a proof that in an ancient narrative a personage is not regarded as superhuman; (2) that a suffering Messiah was expressly formulated in Jewish literature in the pre-Christian period; [24] and (3) that there are extremely strong grounds for inferring purposive invention--of that naïf kind which marks the whole mass of early hierology--in the very episodes upon which he founds. The first concrete details of the Founder's propaganda in Mark, as we have seen, exhibit him as clashing with the Judaic environment. In later episodes he clashes with it yet further. The "derogatory" episodes exhibit him as clashing with his personal environment, his family and kin, concerning whom there has been no mention whatever at the outset, where we should expect to find it. All this is in line with the anti-Judaic element of the Gospel. If at early stages in the larger Jesuine movement there were reasons why the Founder should be represented as detaching himself from the Mosaic law; as being misunderstood and deserted by his disciples; and as disparaging even the listening Jewish multitude (concerning whom Mark, iv, 10 sq., makes him say that "unto them that are without, all things are done in parables, that seeing they may see and not perceive, and hearing they may hear and not understand, lest haply they should turn again, and it should be forgiven them"), is there anything unlikely in his being inventively represented as meeting antipathetic treatment from his family? [25] At a time when so-called "brothers of the Lord" ostensibly claimed authority in the Judæo-Gentile community, an invented tale of original domestic hostility to the Teacher would be as likely as the presence of authorities so styled is unlikely on the assumption that the story in Mark was all along current. The very fact that allusions to the family of the Lord suddenly appear in a record which had introduced him as a heavenly messenger, without mention of home or kindred or preparation, tells wholly against the originality of the later details, which in the case of the naming of "the carpenter" and his mother have a polemic purpose. [26] CHAPTER VI THE VISIONARY EVANGEL All this applies, of course, to the "Primitive Gospel" held to underlie all of the synoptics, Mark included--a datum which reduces to comparative unimportance the question of priority among these. As collected by the school of Bernhard Weiss, [27] the primitive Gospel, like Mark, set out with a non-historical introduction of the Messiah to be baptized by John. It then gives the temptation myth in full; and immediately afterwards the Teacher is made to address to disciples (who have not previously been mentioned or in any way accounted for) the Sermon on the Mount, with variations, and without any mount. In this place we have the uncompromising insistence on the Mosaic law; and soon, after some miracles of healing and some Messianic discourses, including the liturgical "Come unto me all ye that labour," we have the Sabbatarian question raised on the miracle of the healing of the man with the dropsy, but without the argument from the Davidic eating of the shewbread. [28] There is no more of the colour of history here than in Mark: so obviously is it wanting in both that the really considerate exegetes are driven to explain that history was not the object in either writing. In both "the twelve" are suddenly sent--in the case of Mark, after a list of twelve had been inserted without any reference to the first specified five; in the reconstructed "primitive" document without any list whatever--to preach the blank gospel, "The kingdom of God is at hand," with menaces for the non-recipient, the allocutions to Chorazin and Bethsaida being here made part of the instructions to the apostles. What, then, are the disciples supposed to have preached? What had the Teacher preached as an evangel of "the Kingdom"? The record has expressly represented that his parables were incomprehensible to his own disciples; and when they ask for an explanation they are told that the parables are expressly meant to be unintelligible, but that to them an explanation is vouchsafed. It is to the effect that "the seed is the word." What word? The "Kingdom"? The mystic allegories on that head are avowedly not for the multitude: they could not have been. Yet those allegories are the sole explanations ever afforded in the Gospels of the formula of "the Kingdom" which was to be the purport of the evangel of the apostles to the multitude. They themselves had failed to understand the parables; and they were forbidden to convey the explanation. What, then, had they to convey? And that issue raises another. Why were there disciples at all? Disciples are understood to be prepared as participants in or propagandists of somebody's teaching--a lore either exoteric or esoteric. But no intelligible view has ever been given of the purpose of the Gospel Jesus in creating his group of Twelve. If we ask what he taught them, the only answer given by the documents is: (1) Casting out devils; (2) The meaning of parables which were meant to be unintelligible to the people: that is, either sheer thaumaturgy or a teaching which was never to be passed on. On the economic life of the group not one gleam of light is cast. Judas carried a "bag," but as to whence came its contents there is no hint. The whole concept hangs in the air, a baseless dream. The myth-makers have not even tried to make it plausible. The problems thus raised are not only not faced by the orthodox exegetes; they are not seen by them. They take the most laudable pains to ascertain what the primitive Gospel was like, and, having settled it to the satisfaction of a certain number, they rest from their labours. Yet we are only at the beginning of the main, the historic problem, from which Baur recalled Strauss to the documentary, with the virtual promise that its solution would clear up the other. A "higher" criticism than that so-called, it is clear, must set about the task; and its first conclusion, I suggest, must be that there never was any Christian evangel by the Christ and the Twelve. These allegories of the Kingdom are framed to conceal the fact that the gospel-makers had no evangel to describe; though it may be claimed as a proof of their forensic simplicity that they actually represent the Founder as vetoing all popular explanation of the very formula which they say he sent his disciples to preach to the populace. An idea of the Kingdom of God, it may be argued, was already current among the Jews: the documents assert that that was the theme of the Baptist. Precisely, but was the evangel of Jesus then simply the evangel of John, which it was to supersede? And was the evangel of John only the old evangel, preached by Pharisees and others from the time of the Maccabees onwards? [29] Whatever it was, what is the meaning of the repeated Gospel declaration that the nature of the Kingdom must not be explained to the people? There is only one inference. The story of the sending forth of the twelve is as plainly mythical as is Luke's story of the sending forth of the seventy, which even the orthodox exegetes abandon as a "symmetrical" myth; though they retain the allocution embodied in it. What is in theory the supreme episode in the early propaganda of the cult is found to have neither historical content nor moral significance. Not only is there not a word of explanation of the formula of the evangel, there is not a word of description of the apostles' experience, but simply the usual negation of knowledge:-- And the disciples returned and told him all that they had done, saying, Lord, even the devils are subject unto us through thy name. And he said, I beheld Satan as lightning fall from heaven; behold I have given you power to tread on serpents and scorpions and over all the power of the enemy; notwithstanding, in this rejoice not, that the spirits are subject unto you, but rejoice because your names are written in heaven.... (Luke x, 17-20, with "the disciples" for "the seventy"). And this is history, or what the early Christian leaders thought fit to put in place of history, for Christian edification. The disciples, be it observed, had exorcized in the name of Jesus where Jesus had never been, a detail accepted by the faithful unsuspectingly, and temporized over no less unsuspectingly by the "liberal" school, but serving for the critical student to raise the question: Was there, then, an older cult of a Jesus-God in Palestine? Leaving that problem for the present, we can but note that the report in effect tells that there was no evangel to preach. To any reflecting mind, it is the utterance of men who had nothing to relate, but are inserting an empty framework, wholly mythical, in a void past. Themselves ruled by the crudest superstition, they do but make the Divine Teacher talk on their own level, babbling of Satan falling from heaven, and of treading on serpents. All the labours of the generations of laborious scholars who have striven to get to the foundations of their documents have resulted in a pastiche which only the more clearly reveals the total absence of a historic basis such as the Gospels more circumstantially suggest. In the end we have neither history nor biography, but an absolutely enigmatic evangel, set in a miscellany of miracles and of discourses which are but devices to disguise the fact that there had been no original evangel to preach. If the early church had any creed, it was not this. It originated in a rite, not in an evangel. One hypothesis might, indeed, be hazarded to save the possibility of an actual evangel by the Founder. If, taking him to be historical, we assume him to have preached a political doctrine subversive of the Roman rule, and to have thereby met his death, we could understand that, in a later period in which the writers connected with the movement were much concerned to conciliate the Romans, it might have been felt expedient, and indeed imperative, to suppress the facts. They would not specify the evangel, because they dared not. On this view the Founder was a Messiah of the ordinary Jewish type, aiming at the restoration of the Jewish State. But such a Jesus would not be the "Jesus of the Gospels" at all. He would merely be a personage of the same (common) name, who in no way answered to the Gospel figure, but had been wholly denaturalized to make him a cult-centre. On this hypothesis there has been no escape from the "myth-theory," but merely a restatement of it. A Jesus put to death by the Romans as a rebel Mahdi refuses to compose with the Teacher who sends out his apostles to preach his evangel; who proclaims, if anything, a purely spiritual kingdom; and who is put to death as seeking to subvert the Jewish faith, the Roman governor giving only a passive and reluctant assent. On the political hypothesis, as on the myth-theory here put, the whole Gospel narrative of the Tragedy which establishes the cult remains mythical. We have but to proceed, then, with the analysis which reveals the manner of its composition and of its inclusion in the record. It is admitted by the reconstructors that the primitive Gospel had no conclusion, telling nothing of Last Supper, Agony, Betrayal, Crucifixion, or Resurrection. It did not even name Judas as the betrayer. And they explain that it was because of lacking these details that it passed out of use, superseded by the Gospels which gave them. As if the conclusion, were it compiled in the same fashion, could not have been added to the original document, which ex hypothesi had the prestige of priority. Why the composer of the original did not add the required chapters is a question to which we get only the most futile answers, as is natural when the exegetes have not critically scrutinized the later matter. Thus even Mr. Jolley is content to say:-- The omission of any account of the Passion or Resurrection is natural enough in a writing primarily intended for the Christians of Judæa, some of them witnesses of the Crucifixion, and all, probably, familiar with the incidents of the Saviour's Judæan ministry, as well as with the events preceding and following the Passion, especially when we remember that the author had no intention (!) of writing a biography. [30] Here the alleged fact that only some had seen the Crucifixion, while all knew all about the ministry, is given as a reason why the ministry should be described and the Crucifixion left undescribed and unmentioned! The problem thus impossibly disposed of is really of capital importance. Any complete solution must remain hypothetical in the nature of the case; but at least we are bound to recognize that the Primitive Gospel may have had a different conclusion, as it may further have contained matter not preserved in the synoptics. That might well be a sufficient ground for its abandonment by the Christian community; and some such suspicion simply cannot be excluded, though it cannot be proved. But whatever we may surmise as to what may have been in the original document, we can offer a decisive reason why the existing conclusion should not have been part of it. That conclusion is primarily extraneous to any gospel, and is not originally a piece of narrative at all. Bernhard Weiss ascribes to Mark the original narrative of the closing events, making Matthew a simple copyist--a matter of no ultimate importance, seeing that it is the same impossible and unhistorical narrative in both documents. Like all the other professional exegetes, Bernhard Weiss and his school have failed to discern that the document reveals not only that it is not an original narrative at all, but that it could not possibly be a narrative. "It was only in the history of the passion," writes Weiss, "that Mark could give a somewhat connected account partly of what he himself had seen and partly of what he gathered from those who witnessed the crucifixion." [31] Whether "passion" here includes the Agony in the Garden is not clear: as it is expressly distinguished from the crucifixion, which Mark by implication had not seen, the meaning remains obscure. Like the ordinary traditionalists, Weiss assumes that "after Peter's death Mark began to note down his recollections of what the Apostle had told him of the acts and discourses of Jesus." Supposing this to include the record of the night of the Betrayal, what were Mark's possible sources for the description of the Agony, with its prayers, its entrances and exits, when the only disciples present are alleged to have been asleep? It is the inconceivable omission of the exegetes to face such problems that forces us finally to insist on their serious inadequacy in this regard. They laboriously conduct an investigation up to the point at which it leaves us, more certainly than ever, facing the incredible, and there they leave it. Their work is done. That the story of the Last Night was never framed as a narrative, but is primarily a drama, which the Gospel simply transcribes, is manifest in every section, and is definitely proved by the verses (Mk. xiv, 41-42) in which, without an intervening exit, Jesus says: "Sleep on now, and take your rest.... Arise, let us be going." The moment the document is realized to be a transcript of a drama it becomes clear that the "Sleep on now, and take your rest" should be inserted before the otherwise speechless exit in verse 40, where the text says that "they wist not what to answer him." Two divergent speeches have by an oversight in transcription been fused into one. That the story of the tragedy is a separate composition has been partly perceived by critics of different schools without drawing any elucidating inference. Wellhausen pronounces that the Passion cannot be excepted from the verdict that Mark as a whole lacks the character of history. "Nothing is motived and explained by preliminaries." [32] But "we learn as much about the week in Jerusalem as about the year in Galilee." [33] And the Rev. Mr. Wright gets further, though following a wrong track:-- The very fact that S. Mark devotes six chapters out of sixteen to events which took place in the precincts of Jerusalem makes me suspicious. Important though the passion was, it seems to be narrated at undue length. The proportions of the history are destroyed. [34] Precisely. The story of the events in Jerusalem is no proper part either of a primary document or of the first or second Gospel. In its detail it has no congruity with the scanty and incoherent narrative of Mark. It is of another provenance, although, as Wellhausen notes, quite as unhistorical as the rest. The non-historicity of the entire action is as plain as in the case of any episode in the Gospels. Judas is paid to betray a man who could easily have been arrested without any process of betrayal; and the conducting of the trial immediately upon the arrest, throughout the night, the very witnesses being "sought for" in the darkness, is plain fiction, explicable only by the dramatic obligation to continuous action. CHAPTER VII THE ALLEGED CONSENSUS OF SCHOLARS Such is the historical impasse at which open-minded students find themselves when they would finally frame a reasoned conception of the origin of the Christian religion. The documentary analysis having yielded results which absolutely repel the accepted tradition, however denuded of supernaturalism, we are driven to seek a solution which shall be compatible with the data. And some of us, after spending many years in shaping a sequence which should retain the figure of the Founder and his twelve disciples, have found ourselves forced step by step to the conclusion that these are all alike products of myth, intelligible and explicable only as such. And when, in absolute loyalty to all the clues, with no foregone conclusions to support--unless the rejection of supernaturalism be counted such--we tentatively frame for ourselves a hypothesis of a remote origin in a sacramental cult of human sacrifice, with a probable Jesus-God for its centre in Palestine, we are not surprised at being met by the kind of explosion that has met every step in the disintegration of traditional beliefs from Copernicus to Darwin. The compendious Mr. Sinclair, who makes no pretension to have read any of the works setting forth the new theories, thus describes them:-- The arguments of Baconians and mythomaniacs are alike made up of the merest blunders as to fact and the sheerest misunderstanding of the meaning of facts. Grotesque etymologies, [35] arbitrary and tasteless emendations of texts, forced parallels, unrestrained license of conjecture, the setting of conjecture above reasonably established fact, chains of argument in which every link is of straw, appeals to anti-theological bias and to the miserable egotism which sees heroes with the eyes of the valet--these are some of the formidable "evidences" in deference to which we are asked to reverse the verdicts of tradition, scholarship, and common sense. They have never imposed on anyone fairly conversant with the facts. Those who have not such knowledge may either simply appeal to the authority of scholars, OR, BETTER STILL, SUPPORT that authority by exercizing their own IMAGINATION AND COMMON SENSE. That tirade has seemed to me worth preserving. It is perhaps a monition to scholars, whose function is something higher than vituperation, to note how their inadequacies are sought to be eked out by zeal without either scholarship or judgment, and, finally, without intellectual sincerity. The publicist who alternately tells the unread that they ought to accept the verdict of scholars, and that it is "better still" to "support" that verdict by unaided "imagination and common sense," has given us once for all his moral measure. Dismissing him as having served his turn in illustrating compendiously the temper which survives in Unitarian as in Trinitarian traditionalism, we may conclude this preliminary survey with a comment on the proposition that we should take the "verdict of scholars." It has been put by men, themselves scholars in other fields, whom to bracket with Mr. Sinclair would be an impertinence. But I have always been puzzled by their attitude. They proceed upon three assumptions, which are all alike delusions. The first is that there is a consensus of scholars on the details of this problem. The second is that the professional scholars have a command of a quite recondite knowledge as regards the central issue. The third is that there is such a thing as professional expertise in the diagnosis of Gods, Demigods, and real Founders in religious history. Once more, the nature of the problem has not been realized. Let us take first the case of a real scholar in the strictest sense of the term, Professor Gustaf Dalman, of Leipzig, author of "The Words of Jesus, considered in the light of Post-Biblical Jewish Writings and the Aramaic Language." [36] To me, Professor Dalman appears to be an expert of high competence, alike in Hebrew and Aramaic--a double qualification possessed by very few of those to whose "verdict" we are told to bow. By his account few previous experts in the same field have escaped bad miscarriages, as a handful of excerpts will show:-- M. Friedmann, Onkelos und Akylas, 1896, still holds fast to the traditional opinion that even Ezra had an Aramaic version of the Tora. In this he is mistaken. H. Laible, in Dalman-Laible's Jesus Christ in the Talmud, etc., incorrectly refers it [the phrase "bastard of a wedded wife"] to Jesus. The discussion treats merely of the definition of the term "bastard." Adequate proof for all three parts of this assertion [A. Neubauer's as to the use of Aramaic in parts of Palestine] is awanting. F. Blass ... characterizes as Aramaisms idioms which in some cases are equally good Hebraisms, and in others are pure Hebraisms and not Aramaisms at all. P. W. Schmiedel ... does not succeed in reaching any really tenable separation of Aramaisms and Hebraisms. Resch entirely abandons the region of what is linguistically admissible.... And the statement of the same writer that this ... "belongs very specially to the epic style of narration in the Old Testament" is incomprehensible. The idioms discussed above ... show at once the incorrectness of Schmiedel's contention that the narrative style of the Gospels and the Acts is the best witness of the Greek that was spoken among the Jews. The fact is that the narrative sections of the Synoptists have more Hebrew features than the discourses of Jesus communicated by them. Such a book as Wünsche's Neue Beiträge, by reason of quite superficial and inaccurate assertions and faulty translations, must even be characterized as directly misleading and confusing. The want of due precaution in the use made of [the Jerusalem Targums of the Pentateuch] by J. T. Marshall is one of the things which were bound to render his efforts to reproduce the "Aramaic Gospel" a failure. Harnack supposes it to be an ancient Jewish conception that "everything of genuine value which successively appears upon earth has its existence in heaven--i.e., it exists with God--meaning in the cognition of God, and therefore really." But this idea must be pronounced thoroughly un-Jewish, at all events un-Palestinian, although the medieval Kabbala certainly harbours notions of this sort. Holtzmann ... thereby evinces merely his own ignorance of Jewish legal processes. Especially must his [R. H. Charles's] attempts at retranslation [of the Assumptio Mosis] be pronounced almost throughout a failure. [Even in the pertinent observations of Wellhausen and Nestle] we feel the absence of a careful separation of Hebrew and Aramaic possibilities.... He [Wellhausen] must be reminded that the Jewish literature to this day is still mainly composed in Hebrew. These may suffice to illustrate the point. Few of the other experts escape Dalman's Ithuriel spear; and as he frankly confesses past blunders of his own, it is not to be doubted that some of the others have returned his thrusts. [37] Supposing then that this body of experts, so many of them deep in Aramaic, so opposed to each other on so many issues clearly within the field of their special studies, were to unite in affirming the historicity of the Gospel Jesus, what would their consensus signify? Simply that they were agreed in affirming the unknown, the improbable, and the unprovable, while they disputed over the known. Their special studies do not give them the slightest special authority to pronounce upon such an issue. It is one of historic inference upon a mass of data which they among them have made common property so far as it was not so already, in the main documents and in previous literature. Dalman, who takes for granted the historicity of Jesus and apparently of the tradition in general, pronounces (p. 9) that the actual discourses of Jesus in no way give the impression that He had grown up in rural solitude and seclusion. It is true only that He, like the Galileans generally in that region, would have little contact with literary erudition. If Professor Dalman cannot see that the proposition in the first sentence is extremely disturbing to the traditional belief in its Unitarian form, and that the second is a mere petitio principii which cannot save the situation, other people can see it. His scholarship gives him no "eminent domain" over logic; and it does not require a knowledge of Aramaic to detect the weakness of his reasoning. Fifty experts in Aramaic carry no weight for a thinking man on such a non-linguistic issue; and he who defers to them as if they did is but throwing away his birthright. When again Dalman writes (p. 60) that "Peter must have appeared (Acts x, 24) from a very early date as a preacher in the Greek language," he again raises an insoluble problem for the traditionalists of all schools, and his scholarly status is quite irrelevant to that. When, yet again, he writes (p. 71) that "what is firmly established is only the fact that Jesus spoke in Aramaic to the Jews," his mastery of Aramaic has nothing to do with the case. He is merely taking for granted the historicity of the main tradition; and until he faces the problems he has ignored (having, as he may fairly claim, been occupied with others), and repelled the criticisms which that tradition incurs, his vote on the unconsidered issue has no more value to a rational judgment than any other. I have seldom read a scholarly treatise more satisfying than his within its special field, or more provocative of astonishment at the extent to which specialism can close men's eyes to the problems which overlap or underlie theirs. And that is the consideration that has to be realized by those who talk of scholarship (meaning simply what is called New Testament scholarship) settling a historical problem which turns upon anthropology, mythology, hierology, psychology, and literary and historical science in general. On these sides the scholars in question, "Wir Gelehrten vom Fach," as the German specialists call themselves in the German manner, are not experts at all, not even amateurs, inasmuch as they have never even realized that those other sciences are involved. They have fallen into the rôle of the pedant, properly so-called, who presumes to regulate life by inapplicable knowledge. And even those who are wholly free of this presumptuous pedantry, the sober, courteous, and sane scholars like Professor Schmiedel, whose candour enables him to contribute a preface to such a book as Professor W. B. Smith's Der vorchristliche Jesus, to whose thesis he does not assent--even these, as we have seen, can fail to realize the scope of the problem to the discussion of which they have contributed. Professor Schmiedel's careful argument from "derogatory" episodes in the gospel of Mark, be it repeated, is not merely inconclusive; it elicits a rebuttal which turns it into a defeat. Inadequate even on the textual side, it is wholly fallacious on the hierological and the mythological; and no more than the ordinary conservative polemic does it recognize the sociological problem involved. For those who seek to study history comprehensively and comprehendingly, the residuum of the conservative case is a blank incredibility. Even Dalman, after the closest linguistic and literary analysis, has left the meaning of "the Kingdom of God" a conundrum; [38] and the conservative case finally consists in asserting that Christianity as a public movement arose in the simple announcement of that conundrum--the mere utterance of the formula--throughout Palestine by a body of twelve apostles, who for the rest "cast out devils," as instructed by their Teacher. The "scholarship" which contentedly rests facing that vacuous conception is a scholarship not qualified finally to handle a great historical problem as such. It conducts itself exactly as did Biblical scholarship so long in face of the revelations of geology, and as did Hebrew scholarship so long over the problem of the Tabernacle in the wilderness. Deeply learned men, in the latter case, went on for generations solemnly re-writing history in the terms of the re-arranged documents, when all the while the history was historic myth--perceptible as such to a Zulu who had lived in a desert. And when the Zulu's teacher proved the case by simple arithmetic, he met at the hands alike of pedants and of pietists a volley of malignant vituperation, the "religious" expert Maurice excelling many of the most orthodox in the virulence of his scorn; while the pontifical Arnold, from the Olympian height of his amateurism, severely lectured Colenso for not having written in Latin. Until the scholars and the amateurs alike renounce their own presumption, their thrice stultified airs of finality, their estimate of their prejudice and their personal equation as a revelation from within, and their sacerdotal conviction that their science is the science of every case, they will have to be unkindly reminded that they are but blunderers like other men, that in their own specialties they convict each other of errors without number, and that the only path to truth is that of the eternal free play and clash of all manner of criticism. It is an exceptionally candid orthodox scholar who writes: "It is a law of the human mind that combating error is the best way to advance knowledge. They who have never joined in controversy have no firm grasp of truth. Hateful and unchristian as theological disputes are apt to become, they have this merit, that they open our eyes." [39] Let the conservative disputants then be content to put their theses and their arguments like other men, to meet argument with argument when they can, and to hold their peace when they have nothing better to add than boasts and declamation. Before the end of the nineteenth century the very school which we are asked to regard as endowed with quasi-papal powers in matters of historical criticism was declared by one of its leading representatives in Germany to have been on a wrong track for fifty years. In the words of Professor Blass:-- Professor Harnack, in his most recent publication, even while stating that now the tide has turned, and that theology, after having strayed in the darkness and led others into darkness (see Matt. xv, 14) for about fifty years, has now got a better insight into things, and has come to a truer appreciation of the real trustworthiness of tradition, still puts Mark's gospel between 65 and 70 A.D., Matthew's between 70 and 75, but Luke's much later, about 78-93. [40] And Blass, who dates Luke 56 or 60, goes on:-- Has that confessedly untrustworthy guide of laymen, scientific theology, after so many errors committed during fifty years, now of a sudden become a trustworthy one? Or have we good reason to mistrust it as much, or even more than we had before? In ordinary life no sane person would follow a guide who confessed to having grossly misled him during the whole former part of the journey. Evidently that guide was either utterly ignorant of the way, or he had some views and aims of his own, of which the traveller was unaware, and he cannot be assumed now to have acquired a full knowledge, or to have laid those views and aims wholly aside. Thus does one Gelehrter vom Fach estimate the pretensions of a whole sanhedrim of another Fach. Blass is a philologist; and incidentally we have seen how another philologist, Dalman, handles him in that capacity. Elsewhere, after another fling at the theological scholars--with a salvo of praise to Harnack for his Lukas der Arzt--and a comment on the fashion in which every German critic swears by his master, he avows that "we classical philologists ... have seen similar follies among ourselves in fair number." [41] It is most true; and the philologists are as much divided as the theologians. Of course, it is not by philology that Blass has reached the standpoint from which he can contemn the professional theologians. He is really on the same ground as they, making the same primary assumptions of historicity: the only difference is that while they, following the same historical tradition, yet scruple to accept prophecies as having been actually made at the time assigned to them, and feel bound to date the prophecy after the event, the consistent philologist recognizes no such obligation in the present instance, and puts a rather adroit but very unscholarly argument on the subject, with which we shall have to deal later. But for those to whom the exact dating of the Gospels is a subsidiary problem, his argument has only a subsidiary interest; and the fact that he unquestioningly agrees with his flouted theological colleagues in accepting the historicity of Jesus gives no importance to their consensus. If, as he says, they are in the mass utterly untrustworthy guides on any historical issue (an extravagance to which, as a layman, I do not subscribe), their agreement can be of no value to him where he and they coincide. After telling Harnack that men who have confessedly been astray for fifty years have no right to expect to be listened to, he makes much of Harnack's support as to the historicity of the Acts--a course which will not impose upon thoughtful readers. All the while, of course, Professor Blass is simply applying a revised historical criticism to a single issue or set of issues, and even if he chance to be right on these he has set up no new historical method. No more than the others has he recognized the central historical problem; and he must be well aware that that reversion to tradition announced by Harnack, and at this point acquiesced in by him, cannot for a moment be maintained as a general critical principle in regard to the New Testament any more than in regard to the Old. All that he can claim is that many theologians have confessedly blundered seriously on historical problems. But that is quite enough to justify us in admonishing the mere middlemen and the experts alike to change the tone of absurd assurance with which they meet further innovations of historical theory. CHAPTER VIII CONSERVATIVE POSITIONS It is only just to confess that the conservatives are already learning to employ some prudential expedients. Met by the challenge to their own nakedly untenable positions, and offered a constructive hypothesis, diversely elaborated from various quarters, they mostly evade the discussion at nearly every point where the impossible tradition is concretely confronted by a thinkable substitute, and spend themselves over the remoter issues of universal mythology. Habitually misrepresenting every argument from comparative mythology as an assertion of a historical sequence in the compared data, they expatiate over questions of etymology, and are loud in their outcry over a suggestion that a given historical sequence may be surmised from data more or less obscure. But to the question how the evangel could possibly have begun as the record represents, or how the consummation could possibly have taken place as described, they either attempt no answer whatever or offer answers which are worse than evasions. One professional disputant, dealing with the proposition that such a judicial and police procedure as the systematic search for witnesses described in the Gospel story of the Trial could not take place by night, "when an Eastern city is as a city of the dead," did not scruple to say that the thesis amounted to saying that in an Eastern city nothing could happen by night. This controversialist is an instructor of youth, and claims to be an instructed scholar. And his is the only answer that I have seen to the challenge with which it professes to deal. Loisy agrees that the challenge cannot be met. To the hypothesis that there was a pre-Christian cult of a Jesus-God, the traditionalist--above all, the Unitarian, who seems to feel the pinch here most acutely--retorts with a volley of indignant contempt. He can see no sign of any such cult. In the mind's eye he can see, as a historic process, twelve Apostles creating a Christian community by simply crying aloud that the Kingdom of Heaven is at hand, excommunicating for the after life those who will not listen, and all the while assiduously casting out devils. His records baldly tell him that this happened; and "we believe in baptism because we have seen it done." But whereas, in the nature of the case, the reconstruction of the real historic process must be by tentative inference from a variety of data which for the most part the records as a matter of course obscured, he makes loud play with the simple fact that the records lack the required clear mention, and brands as "unsupported conjecture" the theorem offered in place of the plain untruth with which he has so long been satisfied. In his own sifted and "primitive" records we have the narration of the carrying of the Divine Man to a height ("pinnacle of the temple" only in the supposed primitive Gospel) by Satan for purposes of temptation. For a mythologist this myth easily falls into line as a variant of the series of Pan and the young Zeus at the altar on the mountain top, Pan and Apollo competing on the top of Mount Tmolus, Apollo and Marsyas, all deriving from the Babylonian figures of the Goat-God (Capricorn) and the Sun-God on the Mountain of the World, representing the starting of the sun on his yearly course. That assignment explains at once the Pagan myths and the Christian, which is thus shown to have borrowed from the myth material of the Greco-Oriental world in an early documentary stage. Challenged to evade that solution, he mentions only the Pan-Zeus story, says nothing of the series of variants or of the Babylonian original, and replies that he is unable to trace any real and fundamental connection between the stories. In the Buddhist narrative [which had been cited as an analogue [42]] the "temptation" to satisfy the cravings of hunger, the promptings of ambition, and the doubts as to the overruling Providence of God, are all wanting. In the Roman story, too, Pan, as representing in satyr-form the lower and animal propensities of man, is a very different being to the Hebrew Satan; moreover, there is no tempting of Jupiter, as there is of Jesus. Jupiter, likewise, is wholly a god; Jesus is a sorely bested Man, although divine. There is, in short, not the least affinity between any of these narratives beyond the general idea of trial. [43] And this figures as a refutation. For our traditionalist, comparative mythology does not and cannot exist; for him there can be no fundamental connection between any two nominal myths unless they are absolutely identical in all their details; and the goat-footed Pan and the goat-footed Satan (certainly descended from the Goat-God Azazel) are merely "very different beings," though Satan for the later Jews and Jesuists actually corresponded to Pan (who is not a mere satyr for the Greeks) not only in being the spirit of concupiscence [44] but in being "the God of this world," as the Gospel myth in effect shows him to be. And this exhibition of ignorance of every principle of mythology passes for "scholarship," and will be duly so certificated by Sir William Robertson Nicoll, who undertakes to preside in that department, as in politics, with about equal qualifications. By way of constructive solution of the problem we have from the apologist this:-- If a conjecture may be hazarded here, we should be inclined to say that the Christian narrative largely presents, in picturesque and symbolic form, the subjective experiences and doubts of Jesus--whether these were of internal origin merely, or were suggested externally by some malignant spiritual being--as to His capacities and power for the great work which He had undertaken. The thoroughly orthodox, it would appear, must still be catered for, albeit only by the concession of the possibility of "some" malignant spiritual being, which seems a gratuitous slight to the canonical Satan, whose moral dignity had immediately before been acclaimed. But, after expressly insisting on the elements of "temptation" and "ambition" in the story, with the apparent implication that the young Teacher may have had a passing ambition to become a world conqueror, our exegete, in conclusion, collapses to the position of the German exegetes who, the other day, were still debating on the spiritual interpretation of what they could not perceive to be a pure myth of art. At this stage of enlightenment we hear allusions to "psychology," though I have not yet met with any explicit pretence that the traditionalist scholars know anything about psychology that is not known to the rest of us. In any case, the suggestion may be hazarded that the first researches they make into psychology might usefully be directed to their own, which is a distressing illustration of the survival of the intellectual methods of the ancient apologists for the Vedas and for the mythology of the Greeks. A severe scrutiny of psychic processes is indeed highly necessary in this as in so many other disputes in which the affections wrestle with the reason. Such a process of analysis gives us the real causation of the testimony borne by Mill, which is so widely typical. For non-religious as for religious minds the conception they form of the Gospel Jesus is commonly a resultant of a few dominant impressions, varying in each case but all cognate. Jesus is figured first to the recipient spirit as a blessed babe in the arms of an idealized mother, and last as dying on the cross, cruelly tortured for no crime--the supreme example of the martyred philanthropist. In the interim he figures as commanding his dull disciples to "Suffer little children to come unto me," and as "going about doing good," all the while preaching forgiveness and brotherly love. No knowledge of the impossibility of most of the particularized cures will withhold even instructed men from soothing their sensibilities by crediting the favourite figure with some vague "healing power" and talking of the possibilities of "faith healing," even as they loosely accredit some elevating quality, some practical purport, to the visionary evangel, so absolutely mythical that the Gospel writers can tell us not a word of its matter. Even Professor Schmiedel, expressly applying the tests of naturalism, negates those tests at the outset by taking for granted the Teacher's possession of unquantified "psychic" healing powers, though the narratives twenty times tell of cures which cannot possibly be described as cases of faith-healing. [45] If for the sane inquirer the absolute miracle stories are false, and these stories are false, by what right does he allot evidential value to wholesale allegations of multitudinous cures from the same sources? By the sole right of his predilections. The measure which he metes to the thousand prodigies in Livy is never meted to those of the Gospels. For him, these are different things, being seen in another atmosphere. In men concerned to be intellectually law-abiding, these dialectic divagations are decently veiled; by others they are passionately flaunted. No recollection of the anger of Plato at those who denied that the Sun and Planets were divine and blessed beings can withhold certain professed scholars from the same angry folly in a similar predicament. But even where theological animus has been in a manner disciplined by the long professional battle over documentary problems, the sheer lack of logical challenge on fundamental issues has left all the disputants alike, down till the other day, taking for granted data to which they had no critical right. Throughout the whole debate, even in the case of scholars who profess to be loyal to induction, we find that there is a presupposition upon which induction has no effect. Bernhard Weiss, quoting from Holtzmann the profoundly subversive proposition that "Christianity has been 'book-learning' from the beginning," in reply "can only say, God be praised that it is not so." Yet the real effect of his own research is to show us much--to show that there was no oral evangel, that the formula of "the kingdom of heaven" is but a phrase to fill a blank. Even candid inquirers who see the difficulty, like Samuel Davidson, leave it unsolved. Says Davidson:-- When we try to form a correct view of Jesus's utterances regarding this Kingdom of God, we find they have much vagueness and ambiguity. Their differences also in the Synoptic Gospels and the fourth are so apparent that the latter must be left out of account in any attempt to get a proper sketch of Jesus's hopes. His apostles and other early reporters misunderstood some of His sayings, making them crasser. Oral tradition marred their original form. This is specially the case with respect to the enthusiastic hopes about the kingdom He looked for. But as the ideal did not become actual we must rest in the great fact that the Christianity He introduced was the nucleus of a perfect system adapted to universal humanity. [46] "We must" do no such thing. We "must" draw a licit inference. The alleged great fact is morally a chimera, and historically a hallucination. To admit that all the evidence collapses, and then to posit the visionary gospel with a "must," is to abandon critical principle. The "must" is simply the eternal presupposition. And the choice of the sincere student "must" be between that negation of science and a fresh scientific search, from which the presupposition, as such, is excluded. If it can reappear as a licit conclusion, so be it. But it has never yet so arisen. CHAPTER IX BLASS AND FLINDERS PETRIE A very interesting attempt to bring the synoptic problem to a new critical test has latterly been made by Dr. Flinders Petrie in his work, The Growth of the Gospels as shown by Structural Criticism (1910). His starting point is the likelihood that logia, analogous to the non-canonical fragments discovered in recent years, were the original material from which the Gospels were built up. The hypothesis is prima facie quite legitimate, there being nothing to repel it. As he contends, there is now evidence that writing was in much more common use in some periods of antiquity than scholars had formerly supposed; and scraps of writing by non-scholarly persons, he argues, may have been widely current in the environment with which we are concerned. All the while he is founding on data from the Egypt of the third century for a Palestinian environment of the first; and he is obliged to stress the point that Matthew the tax-gatherer was a "professional scribe," while his argument runs that Matthew used the detached jottings of other people, not his own. But let us follow out his thesis:-- We cannot doubt [writes Dr. Petrie] that such was the course of growth when we look at the logia. Those collections of brief sayings could hardly have come into existence if full narratives and sufficient standards of information in the Gospels were already circulating. They belong essentially to a preparatory age, when records were in course of compilation. But, once written out, they naturally survived side by side with the Gospels, which had only used a portion of their material. [47] It is not quite clear whether Dr. Petrie meant here to claim not only that the so-called Logia Iesou published in 1897 and 1904 are anterior to and independent of the Gospels (though found only in third-century MSS.), but that they are on the same footing of credibility with the Gospels. This, however, seems inevitably to follow from his position, though it appears to suggest to him no difficulty about the general historicity of the Gospel story, which he too takes for granted. Let us then note the problems raised. A main feature of Dr. Petrie's inquiry is that, following Professor Blass, he insists on making the predictions of the fall of Jerusalem part of the early documentary matter collected in the "Nucleus" which for him is the equivalent of Weiss's Primitive Gospel. The argument of Blass [48] is drawn from the case of Savonarola, who in 1496 predicted that Rome would be sacked, and that horses would be stabled in the churches, as actually happened in the year 1527. If such a prophecy could be made and fulfilled in one case, urges Blass, it might be in another; hence there can be no rigorous application of the canon, Omne vaticinium post eventum, which has been relied on by the modern school of critical theologians. Dr. Petrie appears to have made no investigation of his own, being content to quote and support Blass; and the point is well worth critical consideration. Let us premise that scientific criticism, which has no concern with Unitarian predilections, stands quite impartially towards the question of Gospel dates. The modern tendency to carry down those dates, either for the whole or for any parts of the Gospels, towards or into the second century, is originally part of the general "liberal" inclination to put a Man in place of a God, though some believers in the God acquiesce as to the lateness of the act of writing. Those who have carried on the movement have always presupposed the general historicity of the Teacher, and have been concerned, however unconsciously, to find a historical solution which saved that presupposition. The rational critic, making only the naturalist presupposition, is committed to no set of documentary dates. And he is not at all committed to the denial that an inductive historic prediction, as distinguished from a supernaturalist prophecy, may be made and fulfilled. Many have been. Much has been said of the "marvellous prescience" of Burke in predicting that the anarchy of the French Revolution would end in a tyranny. He was in fact merely inferring, as he well might, that what had happened in the history of ancient Rome and in the history of England would happen in France. By a similar historical method several French and other writers in the eighteenth century reached the forecast of the revolt of the American colonies from Britain without getting any credit for divine inspiration. And so, perhaps, might Savonarola at the end of the fifteenth century predict a sack of Rome, and a Jew in the first century a sack of Jerusalem. But let us see what Savonarola actually did. He was, so to speak, a professional prophet, and while he predicted not only a sack of Rome but his own death by violence, he also, by the admission of sympathetic biographers, put forth many vaticinations of an entirely fantastic character. Here again he might very well have a Jewish prototype. For us the first question is, What did he actually predict in history, and how and why did he predict it? In 1494 he seems to have predicted the French invasion which took place in that year. Villari asserts that he did so in the sermons he preached in Lent, but admits that "it is impossible to ascertain the precise nature" of the sermons in question. [49] Father Lucas goes further, and points out that there is no trace in them of the alleged prophecy [50] which Savonarola in his Compendium Revelationum (1495) claims to have made but does not date. Villari further admits that the sermons of that year are so badly reported as to have lost almost every characteristic of Savonarola's style. Their reporter, unable to keep pace with the preacher's words, only jotted down rough and fragmentary notes. These were afterwards translated into barbarous dog-Latin--by way of giving them a more literary form--and published in Venice. For this reason Quétif and some other writers entertained doubts of their authenticity. [51] Villari nevertheless is satisfied of it on internal grounds, and we may accept his estimate. The main allegation is that in 1494 Savonarola, who had for years been preaching that national sin would elicit divine chastisement, in those Lenten discourses, and also in some others, foretold the coming of a new Cyrus, who would march through Italy in triumph, without encountering any obstacles, and without breaking a single lance. We find numerous records of these predictions, and the terrors excited by them, in the historians and biographers of the period; and Fra Benedetto reports his master's words in the following verses [thus literally translated]:-- Soon shalt thou see each tyrant overthrown, And all Italy shalt thou see vanquished, To her shame, disgrace, and harm. Thou, Rome, shalt soon be captured: I see the blade of wrath come upon thee; The time is short, each day flies past: My Lord will renovate the Church, And convert every barbarian people. There will be but one fold and one shepherd. But first Italy will have to mourn, And so much of her blood will be shed That her people shall everywhere be thinned. Here there is obvious confusion, apart from the fact that the predicted regeneration and unification of the church never took place. The invader is to do no fighting, and yet so much blood will be shed that everywhere the people of Italy will be thinned. Are we, then, to believe that the "Cyrus" prediction was made at the same time? Is there not ground for suspicion that it was interpolated post eventum, in the Latin report? The only alternative solution seems to be that Villari or the Italian compiler has mixed prophecies of different years. In his sermon of November 1, 1494, Savonarola speaks of the French invasion as the "scourge" he had predicted [52]--an odd way of speaking of one promised before as "the Lord's anointed," even though the French host is said to be "led by the Lord." In any case his own claim to have predicted of "Cyrus" is unsupported by evidence, and, even if accepted, does not involve a date earlier than 1493-4. [53] To predict the invasion of Italy by Charles VIII of France in Lent of 1494, or even late in 1493, was easy enough. [54] The invasion had been fully prepared, and was expected, even as was the Armada in the England of 1588. Savonarola was very likely to have inside knowledge of the scheme, and the Pope positively charged him with having helped to engineer it. Florence in effect received Charles as a friend. There had been, further, abundant discussion of the expedition both in France and Italy long before it set out. Guicciardini tells that wise Frenchmen were very apprehensive about it, and that Ferdinand of Naples reckoned that it must fail. Fail it finally did. Savonarola might even predict that the invader would not be resisted, for there was no force ready in Italy to repel that led by Charles, with its great train of artillery. It is an extreme oversight of Villari's to allege [55] that in the autumn, "unexpectedly as a thunderclap from a clear sky, came the news that a flood of foreign soldiery was pouring down from the Alps to the conquest of Italy.... All felt taken unawares." This assertion is completely exploded by the record of Guicciardini, and no historian will now endorse it. Lodovico Sforza, Duke of Milan, had incited Charles to the invasion; the preparations had been open and extensive; and they had been abundantly discussed both in France and Italy. [56] The statement that "the Friar alone had foreseen the future" is absolute myth. The fact remains that the invasion was not resisted, and that Rome was "captured" in the sense of being entered by Charles, who did no military damage and marched out again. But when Charles proceeded to withdraw from Italy, having effected nothing, a battle was fought and won by him. It was two years later that Savonarola, acting on his standing doctrine that sin in high places must elicit divine vengeance, resumed his predictions of disaster to Rome, whose Pope was his enemy. As it happened, 1496 was again a year of expected invasions. Charles, now the ally of Florence, was announced to be preparing for a second inroad, and the apprehensive Sforza invited and furthered the intervention of the emperor Maximilian as he had before invited Charles. Predictions were again to be expected; at Bologna at least one was actually made; and the prophet, one Raffaele da Firenzuola, was tortured and banished. [57] Charles gave up his plan, but Maximilian came, albeit with a small force, and was welcomed by the Pisans. It was before the coming of Maximilian [58] that Savonarola resumed his prophecy of the coming scourge in a series of sermons, in one of which he announces that Italy will be overwhelmed because she is full of sanguinary deeds; that Rome will be besieged and trampled down; and that because her churches have been full of harlots they will be made "stables for horses and swine, the which will be less displeasing to God than seeing them made haunts of prostitutes.... Then, O Italy, trouble after trouble shall befall thee; troubles of war after famine, troubles of pestilence after war." Again, in another sermon: "There will not be enough men left to bury the dead; nor means enough to dig graves.... The dead will be heaped in carts and on horses; they will be piled up and burnt.... And the people shall be so thinned that few shall remain." [59] At the same time he repeatedly predicted his own death by violence. On the latter head he had abundant reason for his forecast. On the former it is very certain that he was not thinking of something that was not to happen for thirty years. Again and again he assured his hearers and his correspondents that his predictions were to be fulfilled "in our time." Towards the end of 1496 he described himself as "The servant of Christ Jesus, sent by him to the city of Florence to announce the great scourge which is to come upon Italy, and especially upon Rome, and which is to extend itself over all the world in our days and quickly." [60] In 1497, in a letter to Lodovico Pittorio, chancellor to d'Este, after speaking of the Lord's prediction of the fall of Jerusalem, he writes: "Great tribulations are always [i.e. in the Scriptures] predicted many years before they come. Yet I do not say that the tribulations which I have foretold will be so long in coming; nay, they will come soon; indeed I say that the tribulation has already commenced." [61] Yet again, in 1498, he claims in a sermon that "a part has come to pass," noting that "in Rome one has lost a son"--a reference to the murder of the Duke of Gandia, son of the Pope; and adding that "you have seen who has died here, and I could tell you, an I would, who is in hell"--supposed to be a reference to Bernardo del Nero. [62] All this was in terms of Savonarola's theological and Biblical conception of things, the ruling political philosophy of his age, as of many before. Wickedness and injustice, fraud and oppression, were dominant in high places, and God must of necessity punish, in the fashion in which he was constantly described as doing so in the Sacred Books, from the Deluge downwards. In Savonarola's view the cup of Rome's abominations was full, and punishment had been earned by the men then living, in particular by Pope Alexander. Within two years Savonarola had been put to death, after many tortures; and Alexander died in 1503 (not by poison, as the tradition goes) without having seen the predicted desolation. It was under the more respectable of the two Medicean Popes that Rome was twice sacked in 1527 by the forces of Charles V; and though there had been infinite slaughter and pestilence in Italy, the regeneration and reunion of Christendom predicted by Savonarola did not follow. When no reform whatever had followed on the French invasion he had explained that his prediction in that case was subject to conditions. Yet he announced that his prophecy of the conversion of the Turks was unconditional, declaring at the close of the Compendium Revelationum that it would be fulfilled in fifteen years, and assuring his hearers in 1495 that some of them would live to see the fulfilment. [63] CHAPTER X THE SAVONAROLA FALLACY Our business, of course, is not to expose the prophetic miscarriages of Savonarola, but simply to make clear what manner of thing his prophesying was. [64] It was an instance of a kind of vaticination as old as Troy and Jerusalem, which had gone on in Christendom for centuries. Long before his day religious men had predicted wars, pestilences, famines, and the conversion of the Turks. [65] The wars and plagues and famines were very safe prognostications: they came in every decade. And when we come to his alleged prediction of the sack of Rome we realize immediately, not only that the one detail of coincidence is wholly fortuitous, but that, like his predecessors, he was simply predicting a return of common evils already experienced a hundred times. [66] The argument of Blass and others on this topic, confidently accepted and endorsed by Dr. Petrie, works out as sheer mystification. They lay special stress on the fact that in the sack of 1527 horses were stabled in the churches. It is likely enough: the same thing has been done a thousand times in the wars of Christendom. But the argument has been very negligently conducted. In the first place, though he tells of infinitely worse things, such as the wholesale violation of women, including nuns, the historian Guicciardini does not give the detail about the horses. That occurs in the document Il Sacco di Roma, ascribed latterly to his brother Luigi, which was first printed in 1664. Still, let us assume that the printing was faithful. If an interpolator had meant to vindicate Savonarola he would presumably have noted that the prophet specified not only horses but pigs, whereas the narrative says nothing of the latter. We are thus left with the item of the stabling of horses in the churches. Here we have to note that as regards the main event Savonarola is predicting a thing that had repeatedly happened in Catholic times, and that as regards the minor details he is speaking with his eye on Jewish history. It was not the mere presence of horses and pigs in churches that he meant to stress, but the defilement that they brought. In the case of the Jewish Temple the "abomination of desolation" had been understood to include the defiling of the altar with swine's flesh. [67] This, in all likelihood, was the origin of Savonarola's prediction as to the bringing of pigs into the sanctuary at Rome, which, as we have seen, was not fulfilled. But there was nothing new about a Catholic sack of Rome. The city had been hideously sacked and in large part destroyed under Gregory VII (1084) by Robert Guiscard, the Pope's ally, after having been captured without sacking by the German Emperor. It just missed being sacked by Frederick II in 1239. In 1413 it was captured by Ladislaus of Naples, who gave all Florentine property in the city to pillage. No question of heresy arose in these episodes; nor did the forces of the Church itself blench at either sack or sacrilege. Faenza was foully sacked in 1376 by Hawkwood, called in for its defence by the bishop of Ostia; and in 1377 the same condottiere massacred the population of Cesena under the express and continuous orders of Robert, Cardinal of Geneva, the papal legate, afterwards the "anti-pope" Clement VII. No more bestial massacre took place in the pandemonium of the fourteenth century; and the sacking of the churches and the violation of the nuns was on the scale of the bloodshed. [68] In view of the endless atrocities of the wars of the Church and of Christendom there is a certain ripe absurdity about the exegetical comments on the subject of the sack of Rome in 1527. Says Blass:-- Especially remarkable is this, that he [Savonarola] extends the devastation to the churches of Rome, which in any ordinary capture (!) by a Catholic army would have been spared, but in this case were not at all respected, because a great part of the conquering army consisted of German Lutherans, for whom the Roman Catholic churches were rather objects of hatred and contempt than of veneration. Now Lutheranism did not exist in 1496. [69] And Dr. Petrie adds: "Such a detail seemed excessively unlikely before the rise of Lutheranism; yet it came to pass." [70] It is interesting to realize the notions held by scholars of such standing in regard to European history after a century signalized by so much historic research; and to find that such an ignorant proposition as that just cited should for Dr. Petrie "explode the dogma" that really fulfilled prophecies [71] have been framed post eventum. For centuries before Luther the desecration of churches was a regular feature in every Christian war of any extent. It is arguable, perhaps, that in the sack of Rome the German troops might have made a special display of that mania for ordure as an instrument of war of which we have had such circumstantial accounts from Belgium of late, and of which similar details have been preserved in the domestic history of Paris since 1870. [72] But the stabling of horses in churches was a familiar act of warfare, often explicable by the simple fact that the horses of an army could not otherwise be accommodated. The clerical chroniclers mention such things when they can tell a tale of the divine vengeance. Thus Spelman tells how "Richard, Robert, and Anesgot, sons of William Sorenge, in the time of William Duke of Normandy, wasting the country about Say, invaded the church of St. Gervase, lodging their soldiers there, and making it a stable for their horses. God deferred not the revenge." [73] In 1098 "the Earl of Shrewsbury made a dog-kennel of the church of St. Fridank, laying his hounds in it for the night-time; but in the morning he found them mad." [74] The putting of cattle in churches was sometimes a necessity of defensive warfare. In 1358, according to Jean de Venette, many unfortified villages in France made citadels of their churches to defend themselves from brigands; [75] and in such cases the animals would be taken indoors. Fine churches, on the other hand, were often burned in the wars of that period. [76] And when the Turks invaded Friuli in 1477 and 1478, burning and ravaging, [77] they were likely enough to have stabled their horses in churches. It was probably of the Turks that Savonarola was thinking, predicting as he so constantly did their speedy conversion to Christianity. Lutheranism can have had very little to do with the matter: the brutality of the German Landsknechts was notorious long before Luther was heard of. But there was nothing specially German in the matter either. The Italian condottieri in general were "full of contempt for all sacred things." [78] It is instructive to note that Savonarola predicts nothing of the wholesale violation of nuns and other women which was to take place at Rome as it had done in a hundred other sacks of cities: he must have known that these things happened; but the thing that appealed to his imagination was the theological pollution resulting from putting horses and pigs in churches. He was not predicting: he was remembering. Long before his time, besides, Church Councils had to pass edicts against the use of churches as barns in time of peace. It will be remembered that his main items are slaughters, famines, and pestilences. There was famine and pestilence in Florence when he was prophesying in 1496; there was more in 1497; [79] and a terrible pestilence had visited Venice during the Turkish invasions of 1477 and 1478. The preacher's description of a plague in a city is an account of what had happened a dozen times in the history of Florence, before and after the Plague which figures in the forefront of Boccaccio's Decameron. Preaching from the text of Amos, he arraigns Italy and Rome as Amos arraigns Israel and Judah; and his menaces are the menaces of the Hebrew prophet, immeasurable slaughters, famine, pestilence, and captivity, with the old corollary of regeneration and restoration, in the case of Italy and the Church as in the case of Israel. And his added detail of church desecration is at once a Biblical idea and a familiar item from Christian history. In the historic crusade against the Albigenses in 1209, when Béziers was captured and every human being therein slain, seven thousand were, by the famous order of the Papal Legate, [80] put to the sword in the great church of St. Mary Magdalene, to which they had fled for sanctuary; and the whole city, with its churches, was burned to the ground. During the Hundred Years' War between England and France, says a social historian, a cleric-- in the rural districts of France the passage of the ravagers was traced by blackened ruins, by desecrated churches, by devastated fields, by the mutilated bodies of women and children.... Strange forms of disease which the chroniclers of those times sum up in the names of "black death," or plague, were born of hunger and overleapt the highest barriers ... and ran riot within the overcrowded cities. [81] In the wars of Burgundy and France in the fifteenth century Catholics habitually plundered Catholic churches. At the siege of Saint-Denis in 1411 "the Germans, the Bretons, and the Gascons promised themselves the pillage of the church and the treasures of the abbey." [82] Later "the English, the Picards, and the Parisians ... entered the monastery ... pillaged the apartments of the inmates, and carried away the cups, the utensils, all the furniture." [83] At Soissons, in 1414, the Germans, the Bretons, and the Gascons were as so many wild beasts. The Comte d'Armagnac himself could not restrain them. After having pillaged the houses they set upon the convents and the churches, where the women had taken refuge. They could not escape the brutality of the men of war; the holy ornaments, the reliquaries, all was seized without respect; the hostia, the bones of the martyr, trodden under foot. Never had an army of Christians, commanded by such great seignors and formed of so many noble chevaliers, committed such horrors within the memory of man. [84] The historian is quite mistaken; the same horrors had been many times enacted, and even on a greater scale. At the sack of Constantinople by the Christian crusaders in 1204, the three Western bishops had strictly charged the crusaders to respect the churches and the persons of the clergy, the monks, and the nuns. They were talking to the winds. In the frantic excitement of victory all restraint was flung aside, and the warriors of the cross abandoned themselves with ferocious greed to their insatiable and filthy lewdness. With disgusting gestures and in shameless attire an abandoned woman screamed out a drunken song from the patriarchal chair in the church of Sancta Sophia.... Wretches blind with fury drained off draughts of wine from the vessels of the altar; the table of oblation, famed for its exquisite and costly workmanship, was shattered; the splendid pulpit with its silver ornaments utterly defaced. Mules and horses were driven into the churches [85] to bear away the sacred treasures; if they fell they were lashed and goaded till their blood streamed upon the pavement. While the savages were employed upon these appropriate tasks, the more devout were busy in ransacking the receptacles of holy relics and laying up a goodly store of wonder-working bones or teeth to be carried away to the churches of the great cities on the Rhine, the Loire, or the Seine. [86] Savonarola was simply predicting for Rome, perhaps with his eye on the Turks, such a fate as befell Constantinople at Christian hands, regarding both as acts of divine vengeance, and expecting the capture of Rome to come soon. He pointed to the French invasion--he well might--as showing what was likely to happen. [87] The practice of church desecration had never ceased in Christendom for a single generation. In 1315 Edward Bruce, in his raid in Ireland, is reported to have burned churches and abbeys with all the people in them, and to have wrecked and defaced other churches, with their tombs and monuments. During the centuries between the battle of Bannockburn and the union of the English and Scottish crowns, churches, cathedrals, or abbeys were plundered or burned on both sides in nearly every great border raid. Frenchmen and Burgundians wrecked each other's churches. In his thirteenth chapter Philip de Commines tells "Of the storming, taking, and plundering the city of Liège; together with the ruin and destruction of the very churches." The Duke of Burgundy set a battalion of his guards to defend them, and killed one soldier of those who tried to enter; but later the soldiers forced an entrance, and all were completely plundered. "I myself," says Commines, "was in none but the great church, but I was told so, and saw the marks of it, for which a long time after the Pope excommunicated all such as had any goods belonging to the churches in that city unless they restored them; and the duke appointed certain officers to go up and down his country to see the Pope's sentence put in execution." [88] As late as 1524, in the course of the campaign of Henry VIII in France, two churches were held and defended as fortresses on the French side, and captured by the invaders; [89] and in 1487 Perugia "became a beleaguered fortress under the absolute despotism of the Baglioni, who used even the cathedrals as barracks." [90] Savonarola could not have missed hearing of that. If there was anything astonishing for Italians in the desecration of churches at the sack of Rome, they must have had short memories. The conspiracy of the Pazzi in 1478, in which Giuliano de' Medici was slain during high mass in the cathedral church of Florence, had been backed by the Pope; and the sacrilege of the planned deed was reckoned so horrible that one of the first appointed assassins, who blenched at it, had to be replaced by priests, who had transcended such scruples. [91] On the capture of Brescia by the French under Gaston de Foix in 1512, "things sacred and profane, the goods, the honour, and the life of the inhabitants were for seven days delivered up to the greed, the lust, and the cruelty of the soldier," only the nuns being spared. [92] In 1526 the Milanese told the Constable Bourbon, the general of their ally:-- Frederick Barbarossa anciently desolated this city; his vengeance spared neither the inhabitants, nor the edifices, nor the walls; but that was nothing in comparison with the evils we now suffer. The barbarism of an enemy is less insupportable than the unjust cruelty of a friend ... our miseries have endured more than a month; they increase every hour; and, like the damned, we suffer, without hope, evils which before this time of calamity we believed to be beyond human endurance. [93] Guicciardini testifies that the Spaniards of the emperor's forces had been more cruel than the Germans, [94] violating the women and reducing to rags the men of their own allies. CHAPTER XI THE LOGIA THEORY AND THE HISTORICAL TEXT So much for the "especially remarkable" fact that churches were desecrated in the sack of Rome in 1527, and that Savonarola should in 1496 have predicted such things for his own day. We have seen that his prediction was not a forecast of the event, that he had no idea of the causation of the ultimate sack of Rome, that he really prophesied an early event, and that he was simply announcing speedy divine vengeance after the manner of the Hebrew and many previous Christian prophets. What ground for argument, then, does his case furnish for an inference as to the date of the quasi-prophecy of the fall of Jerusalem in the third Gospel? Blass, despite his "especially remarkable" argument, puts his case pretty low:-- Accidentally, you will say, the event [in 1527] corresponded with the prophecy. But that is not my point, whether it was accidental, or the prophet had really foreseen the event; for in the case of the prophecies recorded by Luke you may raise the same controversy if you like. [95] What then were the manner and the matter of the prophecy in Luke? The Messiah expressly grounds his prediction upon the non-acceptance by Jerusalem of him and his mission:-- If thou [Jerusalem] hadst only known in this day the things which belong unto peace! but now they are hid from thine eyes. For the days shall come upon thee when thine enemies shall cast up a bank about thee, and compass thee round, and keep thee in on every side, and shall dash thee to the ground, and thy children within thee; and they shall not leave in thee one stone on another (Luke xix, 42-44). But when ye see Jerusalem compassed with armies, then know that her desolation is at hand. Then let them that are in Judæa flee unto the mountains.... For these are days of vengeance, that all things which are written may be fulfilled.... And they shall fall by the edge of the sword, and shall be led captive into all the nations, and Jerusalem shall be trodden down of the Gentiles, until the times of the Gentiles be fulfilled. And there shall be signs in sun and moon and stars.... And then shall they see the Son of Man coming in a cloud with power and great glory. But when these things begin to come to pass, look up, and lift up your heads; because your redemption draweth nigh (id. xxi, 20-28). "I do not think," says Blass, "that either the former or the latter of these foretellings is very distinct, since there are neither names given nor peculiar circumstances indicated; only the common order of events is described...." That will certainly not hold in respect of the "shall not leave in thee one stone on another," or the "cast up a bank about thee," which is a distinct specification of the Roman siege method of 70. But let us follow up the implication, which is that a Jewish vaticinator, mindful of Daniel, might about the year 30 so predict the events of the year 70, and a world of other events which never happened, without astonishing us more than does Savonarola. As we shall see, not only the circumstantial details but the remainder of the prediction completely exclude the idea of fortuitous real vaticination, even if it be argued that prophecies of quite visionary prodigies may conceivably have been made at any date. As to the prophecy of the fall of the temple, which is common to the three synoptics, the Professor leaves it "out of the present discussion," seeing that the liberal theologians are willing to let it stand as a prophecy ante eventum. Certainly he may well contemn such a critical method. The prophecy as to the temple, and that in Matthew (xxiv, 3-31) and Mark (xiii, 3-27) as to the sequence of war, persecution, dissension, false prophets, evangelization of the whole world, the abomination of desolation in the holy place, false Christs (twice specified), signs and wonders, and the final cosmic catastrophe--all this is certainly on all fours, critically considered, with the presages in Luke. But how shall rational criticism be induced to take the whole mass of quasi-vaticination as the utterance of a wandering thaumaturg of the year 30? It is idle for Professor Blass to explain to us that when Luke makes Jesus say "Jerusalem shall be trodden down of the Gentiles," with mere reminiscence of the Septuagint Daniel, and Matthew and Mark make him speak with exact reference to Sept. Dan. ix, end, they are citing independently from their original. Their original may just have been the cited passage in Daniel, with no intervening document. "It is self-evident," says the Professor, [96] "that the real speech of Christ must have been longer than we read it now in any Gospel." That thesis cannot be self-evident of which the subject invites and admits a wholly different explanation; and the "must" is a sample of the Professor's critical ethic. Similarly Dr. Petrie assumes that there were any number of logia current, all genuine, and that the gospel-makers simply cite from them wherever they are found appropriate to the circumstances of the moment. "These episodes, thus brought into prominence by the conditions of the time, were therefore incorporated in the Nucleus, or in the gospels which grew upon that." [97] It now behoves us to consider that interesting development of traditionalist theory. The Nucleus, be it explained, is Dr. Petrie's substitute for the Primitive Gospel of the school of B. Weiss, and is constructed by the simple and certainly quite objective process of selecting "everything that is common to all three synoptics in a parallel text"--that is, occurring in all three in the same order. This is the "structural" test, and it yields a document which does not, like the Weiss selection, end before the Last Supper, but goes on to the Resurrection. But this Nucleus, be it noted, was practically complete almost immediately after the Founder's death. The close "suggests a document drawn up within a few months of the final events." [98] How, then, Dr. Petrie can speak of logia incorporated in the Nucleus in respect of the conditions of the time, is not very clear. By his account the prevalent Christian idea about the year 30, during the Ministry, "was the proper understanding of the law, which was not yet abrogated in any particular." At this stage, accordingly, the Sermon on the Mount would be the prominent logion. "And when we notice how the fulfilling of the law is the main theme of the nucleus, and how little [even] of the completed Gospels refer to the Gentile problems, we must see how devoid of historic sense is the anachronism of supposing the main body of the Gospels to have originated as late as the Gentile period" [99] [i.e. 60-70!]. But in 40-50, with the spread of the Church, as set forth in the Acts, "the Samaritans were welcomed, and Gentile proselytes such as the centurion Cornelius"; whereupon the suitable logia would be added to the Gospels current. Then in 50-60, when the Gentiles began to enter in decisive numbers, there was "a special meaning in the parable of the Prodigal Son, and in the subjection to kings and rulers"; hence further embodiments. Then, after the fall of Jerusalem in 70, "Christianity lost its sense of any tie to Judaism." It will be admitted that this is a stirring change from the run of New Testament criticism of the past seventy years. That criticism more or less unconsciously recognized the problem set up by the entire ignorance of gospel teaching revealed in the Pauline and other epistles. Dr. Petrie, following Professor Blass in an unhesitating acceptance of the narrative of the Acts, simply ignores the Pauline problem altogether. He boldly credits the Church with a Gospel before Paul's conversion, and, like other traditionalists, supplies Paul, the gospel-less, with a physician, Luke, who had collected from the scattered mass of logia more gospel than anybody else! Thus has the pendulum swung back to the furthest extreme from that at which men carried down the Gospel dates to accommodate the data. As to chronology, Dr. Petrie is practically at the orthodox standpoint of Professor Salmon. [100] An objective and ostensibly scientific method, involving no element of personal bias or preference, is employed to make a selection from the Gospels which shall present as it were mathematically or statistically the earliest elements in the synoptics. On that selection, however, there is brought to bear no further critical principle whatever. It is assumed that it must all come from the traditional founder, a mass of whose utterances must have been committed by auditors to writing as they were delivered (the power to write being held to be common in Galilee and Judea in the first century because it was common in Egypt in the third); and a nucleus collection of these separate documents must have been made soon after the crucifixion, and there and then wound up. At any rate, such a collection is yielded by selecting the groups or blocks of matter which occur in all three synoptics in the same order; and this must have been made about the year 30, because it is mainly occupied with the problems of the law, and very little with "the Gentile problems" which so soon began to come to the front. The history of the Acts is here taken as unassailable ground, like the main Gospel record. Two comments here at once suggest themselves. Dr. Petrie's line of construction might with perfect congruity be employed to yield evidence that the assumed original Teacher was mainly concerned with problems of the law; and (2) the inferred multitude of original floating dicta may with immense gain in plausibility be transmuted into a series of interpolations made by different hands long after the supposed Founder's death. For what critical right has Dr. Petrie to subsume a store of floating Jesuine dicta which supplied the Church, in its changing circumstances, for three or four decades, with suitable parables and teachings to meet every new problem? If you profess to seek a strictly impersonal principle of selection, why not apply a strictly impersonal principle of inference from the result? Obviously the additional logia are far more likely to have been invented than found. Such a chronic windfall of papyri is a sufficiently fantastic hypothesis on the face of it, in no way justifiable from the recent discovery of a few enigmatic scraps that had not been embodied, and suggest no community of thought with those embodied. But even if we allow the probable existence of many floating leaves, where is the likelihood that their sayings all came from the same Teacher? In the terms of the hypothesis, he occupied himself mainly with the law (unless the lost logia outbulk the saved), while at the same time he duly provided for the Samaritans and the Gentiles! His disciples and apostles, nonetheless, paid no attention to these latter provisions until they found that such provisions were really necessary to accommodate the thronging converts! All this is very awkwardly suggestive of the Moslem saying that the Khalif Omar "was many a time of a certain opinion, and the Koran was revealed accordingly." [101] It would indeed have been a remarkable experience for the evangelist to discover the logion (Mt. xvi, 17-19) as to the founding of the Church on the rock of Peter when a Petrine claim had to be substantiated. To the eye of Dr. Rendel Harris, an orthodox but a candid scholar, the "rock" text suggests an adaptation of a passage in the Odes of Solomon in which God's "rock" is the foundation not of the Church but of the Kingdom. [102] Such probabilities Dr. Petrie never considers. Let us see how Dr. Petrie's method explains Matthew x, 5: "Go not into any way of the Gentiles, and enter not into any city of the Samaritans." It occurs only in Matthew: Luke gives the parable of the Good Samaritan, with its flings at the lawyer and at the Jews in general; and in John the Founder makes Samaritan converts. The anti-Gentile text Dr. Petrie never discusses! Yet his method does not permit him to exclude it. It belongs to his "sixth class," of "sayings and episodes which only occur in one Gospel. These classes are almost entirely in Matthew and Luke, and are the accretions which were added after the Gospels had finally parted company." [103] So that after the Gentile period had set in, Matthew, the one "professional scribe among the apostles," somehow found a logion Iesou which suited the need of the Church to exclude Samaritans and Gentiles, while Luke found another which suited the need to welcome them. And yet, in respect of its very purport, the anti-Gentile and anti-Samaritan teaching ought, if genuine, to belong, on Dr. Petrie's general principle, to the earliest collection of all. Such is the dilemma to which we are led by the strictly statistical method of selection, conducted without any higher light. CHAPTER XII FAILURE OF THE LOGIA THEORY To the open-minded reader it must be already plain that, unless we are to be led into mere chaos, there must at once be added to the statistical test either the proviso that given sayings may for the purposes of certain sections of the Church have been left out in certain Gospels, or that for the purposes of certain sections they may have been invented. And the moment such a concession is made, the primary assumption of necessary authenticity is destroyed. If the anti-Samaritan precept is the utterance of the Founder, the pro-Samaritan parable is not; or else the Founder was literally all things to all men. If either could be foisted on a gospel, anything could be; and the futile historical argument to save the prediction of the fall of Jerusalem--an argument proceeding, as we have seen, on a quite uncritical view of one uninvestigated and loosely described case--becomes doubly irrelevant. Dr. Petrie's Nucleus of triple tradition contains the prophecy:-- The Son of Man shall be betrayed unto the chief priests and unto the scribes, and they shall condemn him to death, and shall deliver him to the Gentiles to mock, and to scourge, and to crucify him; and the third day he shall rise again. Is that to be salved as historical, on the pretext that Blass has by the case of Savonarola "exploded the dogma" of omne vaticinium post eventum, or is to be salved by the plea that Savonarola, like Lincoln, predicted his own death at the hands of his enemies? And if prudence perforce abandons that course, why was the vaguer prophecy about Jerusalem sought to be salved at all? Why was not the miracle prediction included in the Savonarola argument? Considered as a whole, the other is not at all a bare prediction of the sacking of a city, fortuitously fulfilled forty years after utterance: it is a Messianic judgment, carrying a whole eschatology bound up with it. [104] And the fact that different gospels give it differently is not to be rationally explained by Professor Blass's device of saying that Jesus must have said a great deal more still, and that Luke selected what would appeal to Gentiles, while Matthew and Mark omitted what would give pain to Jews. This conception of evangelists playing fast and loose with the known divine oracles to suit men's susceptibilities ought to be disturbing to any believer's moral sense; while that of a set of propagandists inventing oracles to suit their own religious aim puts the Gospel-makers in a line with the whole succession of Jewish and early Christian framers of supposititious documents, as men of their age, well-meaning, narrow, deluded, devoted. We have come back to the fundamental issue between authoritarian supernaturalism and free reason. If the prediction of the betrayal, the trial, the scourging, the mocking, the crucifixion, and the resurrection is to stand, there need be no more discussion over miracles or anything else. "It is written," and there an end. Biblical criticism has once more become blasphemy. If reason is to have any access to the matter, the prediction must fall as a fiction; and if the "exploded" argument from Savonarola is to be revived, it will have to be restricted to the case of the prediction to which it was so prudentially applied. But if one hopeless prophecy is to be dropped as post eventum, it is mere irrelevance to debate over another which is only in one selected and isolated aspect less hopeless, while as a whole it is equally so. Savonarola's prediction of the fall of Rome was one of many, motived by religion and invited by the absolute fact of previous invasions, of which the last had occurred only two years before. The one concrete detail in which it was "fulfilled" was simply a specification of a common feature in the warfare of the age. Another invasion of Italy was believed to be imminent, and actually took place in the year of the prophecy, without fulfilling that in any detail. The Gospel prophecy is Messianic, devoid of political motivation, accompanied by a whole apparatus of Christian eschatology, and backed by other predictions of pure miracle. The details of the siege and the sequel are as plainly supplied after the event as those of the betrayal, the mockery, the scourging, the crucifixion, and the resurrection. To hold by one set of predictions and abandon the other is mere critical trifling. Even orthodox critics give up the early chapters of Luke as late accretions. What kind of credit is it that is to be saved by making him the faithful chronicler of a real prophecy? The prediction of the fall of the temple, which is in the Nucleus as being common in matter and order to all three synoptics, is in no better case. On Dr. Petrie's principle, it is one of the earliest accepted sayings--that is, it was embodied when the Jesuist movement was pre-occupied over the law, and yet it did not disturb that pre-occupation. On his theory, it should not have appeared in the Nucleus at all, or in any Gospel until the occasion arose. Thus incompatible with Dr. Petrie's own theory, it is equally incompatible with any critical principle. This is a concrete Messianic prophecy, not to be salved by any juggling with mere historiography. In the terms of the case, it was made at a time when there was no politically visible reason for making it, [105] and is not in the least to be explained as were the vaticinations of Savonarola. On the principles of Professor Blass, it ought to have been far too "painful" for preservation by men adhering to the Jewish law. It is quite thinkable, of course, that the compilers of the Gospels may have found such quasi-predictions already committed to writing, and merely embodied them. But that admission only carries us back to the problem of authenticity. If any current "scrap of paper" concerning "Jesus" or "the Lord" could thus secure canonicity, what trust is to be put in the canon? It is recorded in the history of Islam that Abu Daoud, who collected some half-a-million traditions concerning Mohammed, rejected all but 4,800, which included "the authentic, those which seem to be authentic, and those which are nearly so." [106] This again, it may be argued, proves that false traditions do not negate the historicity of the personage they concern. And that is clearly true. There may conceivably have been a Teacher in whose mouth many invented sayings were put even in his lifetime. But when we thus come to the historicity problem, there is simply no such basis in the Gospels as we have in the life of the confessedly "Illiterate Prophet." The Gospel life begins and ends in miracle, and it yields no intelligible evangel apart from that ostensibly founded on the sacrificial death--the death, that is, of the God. Apart from the sacramental rite, the whole body of the Teaching is but a mass of incompatibilities, telling of a dozen standpoints, legalism and anti-legalism, Judaism and Gentilism, Davidism and non-Davidism, asceticism and the contrary, a meek Messiah and one claiming to be greater than Solomon, a Teacher vetoing invective and one freely indulging in it, a popular and unexplained Gospel for the masses who are declared to be purposely excluded from comprehension of that very Gospel, whereof the esoteric explanations yield nothing that could apply to the alleged propaganda. Even self-contradictions, it may be argued, do not negate the authenticity of a teaching. Carlyle and Buskin abound in them; who escapes them? Many passages in the Koran are contradicted or abrogated by others, 225 verses being cancelled by later ones. [107] Here indeed there is plain ground for critical doubt; and some of us must emphatically decline to accept Muir's verdict, endorsing Von Hammer's, that "we may upon the strongest presumption affirm that every verse in the Koran is the genuine and unaltered composition of Mohammed himself." [108] But even if we are satisfied that Mohammed in his long life deliberately modified his doctrine, there is no room for such an explanation in the case of a teacher who is never once said to avow modification, and whose whole teaching career ostensibly covers but a year in the synoptic record. As the tradition stands, whether read with Unitarian or with Trinitarian assumptions, it is a mere mosaic of enigma and contradiction. If the Teacher never called himself the Son of God in a miraculous sense, how came the men for whom his word was law, and who in the terms of the thesis knew his life history and parentage if any one did, to call him so? In Dr. Petrie's Nucleus, the triple tradition, the Founder does assure his disciples that "in the regeneration" he will sit in the throne of glory, and they on twelve thrones, judging the twelve tribes. What room is there for Gentilism here? And if downright miracle and miraculous prediction alike be given up as unhistorical, on what grounds can we give credence to this as a really delivered oracle? On the other hand, no fundamental difficulty remains when we recognize that the whole Gospel record is the composite result of a process of making a life history for a God. The command of the Messiah to Peter to keep silence as to his Messianic character is quite intelligible as providing at once the claim by Jesus and an explanation of the fact that no such Messianic movement was historically recorded. The blank enigma of the early "popular" evangel is solved when we realize that there had been no such evangel; that the cult had really grown out of the ancient sacramental rite; that the growing movement had to evolve a quasi-biography when the God of the rite was to be developed into a Messiah; and that the Judaism of the old Messianic idea had to be transmuted into universalism when the cult came to a Gentile growth. All the contradictory texts fall (more or less clearly) into their orders as survivals of the divergent sects formed by the changing situation--or, let us say, of those changing needs of the widening cult which Dr. Petrie so arbitrarily makes a ground for the mere selection of dicta from a floating mass of written notes, but which may so much more rationally be taken as grounds for producing the required oracle. That there were such scattered and floating oracles, indeed, we are not critically entitled to deny. The Judæo-Greek world was indeed familiar with oracles of "the Lord." The Gospel Jesus is made to predict that there would come after him many saying "I am Christ"; and while the traditionalist must accept this as true prediction, the historian must pronounce that various "Christs" or quasi-Christs did come. We have some of their names and their brief secular history. [109] Each of these men would be "the Lord" for his followers; and some of them, surely, propounded some teaching. The Gospel ethic of reciprocity, we know, was put in a saner form by Hillel; did he get it from the Jesuists? Christian scholars do not claim as much. [110] There is no Messianic item in the Gospels, apart from the lore of the sacrament, which may not have been in the legend of any "Christ." As it happens, the best authenticated saying of "the Lord" is one which no Christian now accepts--the fantastic millenarian prediction given by Papias, who had it from "the elders who saw John, the disciple of the Lord," and textually quoted by Irenæus, who is practically corroborated by Eusebius. The latter, it is true, pronounces Papias very limited in his comprehension; [111] but has not the same thing been said many times of the disciples by believers in the gospel Jesus? The logion preserved from Papias, we know, is in the Apocalypse of Baruch, which imitated the Book of Enoch, both of which are full of oracles of "the Lord." But this only proves that oracles passing current in other quarters and of another source could pass current with devout Jesuists as oracles of Jesus. The Apocalypse of Baruch is pronounced by Canon Charles, who has so ably edited that and other remains of Jewish literature of the same age, a "beautiful" book, "almost the last noble utterance of Judaism before it plunged in the dark and oppressive years that followed the destruction of Jerusalem"; a book written when "breathing thought and burning word had still their home in Palestine, and the hand of the Jewish artist was still master of its ancient cunning." [112] It was admittedly long more widely current in Christian than in Jewish circles, and fell into discredit only when it was felt to contain "an implicit polemic against Christianity." It is to its early Christian vogue that we owe its preservation in a Syriac translation made from the Greek: "of the Hebrew original every line has perished, save a few still surviving in rabbinic writings." Who can say how many other such Jewish books may not have furnished items for the compilers of the Gospels? The Sermon on the Mount we know is a Judaic compilation; and the "Slavonic Enoch" contains sets of beatitudes closely analogous to those of the Sermon. To the traditionalist these things are matters of profound perplexity; for the rational critic they are evidences for the naturalist conception of the rise of Christianity. CHAPTER XIII RESURGENCE OF THE HISTORICAL PROBLEM When the "selection" theory is applied to the logia actually recovered at Oxyrhynchus it conspicuously fails to square these with the traditionalist assumption. On Dr. Petrie's principle they were left out of the Nucleus and Gospels alike because they met no need of the Christian organization. That is to say, oracles of the Son of God were simply ignored by the apostles and the organizers because they did not serve any useful purpose. Independent criticism finds in them plain marks of Judaism, of Gnosticism, of Christian heresy, and of a Christism irreconcilable with the Gospel record. [113] Logion iv, iii, a, runs: "I stood in the midst of the world, and in flesh I was seen of them; and I found all drunken, and none found I athirst among them" [sc. for the word]--the saying of a retrospective Christ, no longer in the flesh, such as we find in the Gnostic Pistis Sophia and the Odes Of Solomon. [114] On the traditionalist view this at least must be tolerably late; what then does the "selection" argument gain from the recovered papyri? But it fares no better when confronted with the opening chapters of Luke. For the Blass school these are to be dated 50-60. Already Luke's "many" [115] had drawn up their narratives; and these, we are to suppose, included the miracle story of the birth of John, the Annunciation, the kinship and intercourse of Elizabeth and Mary, the preparation of John "in the desert," a different account of the birth at Bethlehem, the appearance of the Divine Child in the Temple, and all the rest of it; but no mention of the flight into Egypt. We are asked to believe that all these added narratives were current among the faithful "from the first," but that Mark and Matthew did not see fit to include them in their Gospels, though Matthew saw reason to tell of the flight into Egypt, and Luke to suppress it. Whatever may be the outcome of the "liberal" method of handling the Gospels, it is safe to say that this will never appease the critical spirit. The "gospel of the Infancy" thus embodied in Luke is visibly cognate with the "apocryphal" gospels which were never allowed into the canon, but were more or less popular in the Church. A compromise between traditionalism and the statistical method may set up the position that the stories were current from the first, although all fictitious; but this involves the awkward consequence that the whole atmosphere "from the first" is one of unrestrained invention. Would the inventors of all these myths have any scruple about putting in the mouth of "the Lord" any medley of teachings collected from the present and the past? Luke inserts the episode of the mission of the seventy, with the usual lack of time measurement, between the mission of the twelve and the decisive visit to Jerusalem. In this narrative, the twelve bring back no message, merely reporting "what things they had done." Their mission is in effect made of no account: we read of more miracles, predictions of the approaching tragedy, the Transfiguration, and a series of episodes disparaging the disciples; and then we come upon the mission of the seventy, who are "sent two and two before his face into every city and place whither he himself was about to come." To the seventy is now ascribed the joyful report which the Weiss school calmly assign to the Primitive Gospel, and ascribe to the returning twelve, though Matthew and Mark have no mention of it. Thus Luke is in effect represented as connecting with a new mission story a result which he found connected in the primitive story with the mission of the twelve, while Matthew and Mark had seen fit to suppress the result altogether. What gain in credibility, then, is effected by substituting the "selection" theory for one in which the third evangelist is implicitly represented as a framer of fiction? For Dr. Petrie, the story of the seventy is a logion ignored by the first two Gospel-makers, presumably as serving no purpose, albeit one of the most important items in the history. What kind of narrators, then, were the men who passed it over? The alternatives are equally destructive to credence: on either view we are dealing with men who would invent anything or suppress anything. And yet the subject of the missions lies at the core of the historical problem. To the eye of rational criticism it is an evolving legend. If we take Mark as the first selector or collector, we have the twelve sent forth "by two and two" without money or supplies; with authority over unclean spirits; and with no specified message whatever, though the twelve are to make a solemn and minatory testimony against those who refuse to hear them. "And they went out, and preached that men should repent. And they cast out many devils, and anointed with oil many that were sick, and healed them." They make no report. In Matthew, similarly, the twelve are empowered to cast out spirits and heal diseases, and are "sent forth" with a peremptory veto on any visit to Samaritans or Gentiles, to "preach, saying, The kingdom of heaven is at hand. Heal the sick, raise the dead, cleanse the lepers, cast out devils: freely ye received, freely give." As in Mark, they are to go unfurnished; and are to withhold their peace from the unworthy, testifying as aforesaid. Then ensues a long discourse, with no explanation of the kingdom of heaven, though the missioners are to "proclaim upon the housetops" what they "hear in the ear." Then, "when Jesus had made an end of commanding his twelve disciples, he departed thence to teach and preach in their cities." Of the mission there is not another word: the disciples are not even mentioned as returning. Upon this kind of basis Luke erects a new structure. The twelve are sent forth to exorcise, heal, and preach, unfurnished; and as before they are to give testimony against those who will not receive them. "And they departed, and went throughout the villages, preaching the Gospel, and healing everywhere." "And the apostles, when they were returned, declared unto him what things they had done." The story is not suppressed, and it is supplied with a conclusion; but it is on the mission of the seventy that stress is visibly laid: they "return with joy," and are told to rejoice that their names are written in heaven. "In that same hour he rejoiced in the Holy Spirit"; and after the discourse on the Father and the Son [116] the disciples are "privately" told that many prophets and kings had desired in vain to see and hear what they had seen and heard. In face of all this the methods of the Bernhard Weiss school and the selection theory are alike invalid. They furnish no explanation. The third Gospel is simply substituting a mission to the Gentiles for a mission to the Jews, under cover of a story of a preparatory mission to all the places that were to be visited by the Teacher on his way to his death at Jerusalem. The seventy--in some MSS. seventy-two--stand for the seventy or seventy-two peoples into whom, by Jewish tradition, mankind was divided. The notion that a genuine logion of this kind was all along lying ready to be used is surely fantastic. It is a planned myth, eking out the main myth. It yields only the same Gospel of one phrase, not meant to be understood by the hearers. But it carries in symbol a provision for the Gentiles; and immediately upon it there follows the story of the Good Samaritan, demonstrating that the real tie among men is not nationality but humanity, and impeaching the fanaticism and hypocrisy of the Jewish leaders. Facing once more the sharp antithesis between this and the strictly Judaic command in Matthew, we dismiss as a futility the notion that the same teacher delivered both about the same time, and that the pro-Gentile compiler merely "selected" one and dropped the other. The two sayings are framed for two schools or two sects; and it is idle to see history in either. If the deified Teacher had delivered the first, the second would have been a daring blasphemy. They are alike but men's counsels ascribed to "the Lord." To this conclusion we are always driven. The starting-point of the diverging sects must be looked for in something else than a body of oracular teaching of any kind. CHAPTER XIV ORTHODOXY AND THE "ORAL" HYPOTHESIS The diverging schools of documentary "construction" being thus alike unable to yield a coherent notion either of the process of Gospel-making or of the beginnings of the cultus, it is not surprising to find yet a third school of scholarly interpretation undertaking to do better, and to build on an "oral" basis where others have vainly built on documents. This theory, long ago predominant in Germany, [117] is latterly represented in England by the Rev. Arthur Wright, author of The Composition of the Gospels, a Synopsis of the Gospels, and Some New Testament Problems. Writing before the appearance of Dr. Petrie's treatise, Mr. Wright did not contemplate that development of the later school which gives the earliest possible dates for the Gospels; but we may feel sure that he would give it small quarter. Himself essentially orthodox, and making without question all the primary assumptions of historicity, he dates the Epistle of James before the year 50, Paul's Epistles to the Thessalonians in the year 52; Mark about 70; Matthew "not much" later; Luke in 80; and John later still. [118] He is not tied to the synoptics: when they become unmanageable he vigorously rectifies them by the aid of the Fourth Gospel. But on his own lines he is so candid that he can always be read with pleasure; and his arguments are well worth consideration. Mr. Wright's theory, in brief, is that the Gospels, one and all, represent the late consignment to paper of matter preserved from the first in the Christian catechetical schools, given by the apostles and preserved by their pupils in the Rabbinical fashion. As Matthew divides plausibly into fifty-one lessons, and Mark in the Westcott and Hort text into forty-eight paragraphs, it is suggested that the plan in both cases had been to attain to a set of fifty-one or fifty-two; and If there really was an attempt to provide every Sunday with a Gospel of its own, we shall understand why the formation of Gospel sections proceeded rapidly at first and then ceased; we shall understand why all our Gospels are so short and contain so little which is not essential; we shall understand how S. Mark's order became fixed. [119] This plausible but dangerous detail, however, is not insisted on; what is essential is the datum of long oral tradition. Orthodox as he is, too, Mr. Wright holds that Luke i; ii; iii, 23-38, "are comparatively late additions, which never formed part of the primitive oral teaching." [120] Thus he can summarily get rid of a number of incredibilities which the other schools more prudently leave to be excised by the reader as he sees fit. But we shall find him making a stout fight for many others. On the "oral" theory every Church had its own tradition, [121] "differing both in contents and wording from that of other Churches, and in particular exhibiting much mixture and many sayings of Christ which are not in our Gospels at all" [122]--an interesting approximation, in effect, to the theory of scattered leaflets. Thus is to be accounted for the endless variety in Gospel phrasing and detail. For Mr. Wright, further, it is inconceivable that any evangelist left out anything he knew of. "The common idea" (before Dr. Petrie) "that they picked and selected what was specially adapted to their readers, I most confidently reject." [123] Matthew would gladly have given the parable of the Prodigal Son, and Luke the story of the Syrophoenician woman, which would so well have suited his purpose. [124] "He did not give it because he had never heard of it." Thus, in brief, Mr. Wright posits much teaching lost even from the oral tradition, as Dr. Petrie posits many lost leaflets. But Mr. Wright's conception of the oral tradition, upon scrutiny, becomes disquieting to the critical sense. In one place, discussing Luther's estimate of the Epistle of James as an epistle of straw, he remarks--with a great deal more truth, I fancy, than he dreams of--that James's Epistle "is Christianity in swaddling-clothes." [125] Again, the opening verses of John's Gospel "reveal a depth of knowledge to which S. James never attained. Not that S. James would have contradicted them or doubted their truth. But it is one thing to see truth when it is set before you; it is another to set it forth yourself. There is such a thing as latent knowledge." [126] Yet on the same page with the swaddling-clothes passage Mr. Wright has said, with regard to Mark's omission of the words, "Come unto me all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest":-- Was it humility that made him deliberately omit them as too good for so insignificant a creature as himself to record? Or was it a conscious or unconscious feeling that they were unsuited to his readers? A man with such preposterous humility was ill-equipped for the work of an evangelist. Readers so unchristian would not value a Gospel. What now becomes of the two presentments of James and John? Both must presumably have known most that was to be known, ex hypothesi. Yet James has not a word of specifically Christian doctrine, and, save in two sentences, one of which has every appearance of interpolation, while the other is only less suspicious, no mention of Jesus. John, on the other hand, as an apostle (whether or not the beloved one), must on the theory have heard many of the sayings given in the synoptics, which he does not report. Why does he not? Had he never heard of the "Come unto me" allocution? Could he conceivably have put it aside from a preposterous humility? If he had not heard that, had he not heard the Sermon on the Mount, or any of the parable-solutions given in the synoptics as specially addressed to the twelve disciples? Can Mr. Wright, holding by the central tradition of Jesus and the twelve, believe that John had heard none of the teachings which he does not repeat? If, on the other hand, he admits wholesale suppression in John's case, what becomes of the argument above cited? It matters little that Mr. Wright credits John with evolving the Logos doctrine out of his own profound meditation, and with having "remoulded" the sayings of Jesus which he does give. That is a standing device of exegesis, Unitarian and Trinitarian alike; and by his account the general oral tradition did the same thing indefinitely. But all the while Mr. Wright is going a great deal further. He alternately insists that every evangelist told all he knew, and assumes that the two evangelists who are alleged to have been apostles did not. If, he writes-- If, as becomes increasingly probable, a Johannine course of teaching was extant in comparatively early times, it is not strange that, as S. John dealt chiefly with the Judæan ministry, S. Peter should have refused to intrude into his brother Apostle's domain. They may have agreed at the outset to divide the work thus between them. It is impossible to reconcile this with Mr. Wright's theory of the inclusiveness of the evangelists. Why should not Mark do what Matthew and John did in the terms of the case? Of course this is not the true critical solution; the immediate question is the consistency of Mr. Wright's critical principles. To the eye of unbiassed criticism the "Come unto me" logion is not a possible oracle at all; it is an unintelligently inserted liturgical formula from the mysteries, misplaced and meaningless as a public teaching. [127] As regards the fair historical inference from the wide difference between the synoptic Gospels and the fourth, it is not possible to accept any of Mr. Wright's solutions, tried by his own tests. To suggest that John had not "heard" of the Virgin Birth story is for him impossible, unless he post-dates that as he does the birth-stories in Luke. If he follows that course, what can he make of the 13th chapter of John, a palpable interpolation or substitution between the 12th and the 14th, which form a sequence that the 13th absolutely breaks? [128] If that interpolation be admitted, what exactly is left to fight for? In any case, the implication that Matthew, the apostle, "had not heard of" what John declares to be the first miracle, or of the raising of Lazarus, is as destructive of every traditionalist assumption as is the implication that John the Apostle had not heard of the Sermon on the Mount, or of the parables of the mystery of the kingdom. Mark and Luke expressly declare that John was present at the raising of Jairus' daughter; and the fourth Gospel makes no mention of it. It was perhaps to meet cruces of this kind that Mr. Wright makes John and Peter "divide between them" the portions of the ministry; but such a device simply destroys, as we have seen, another main part of his case. Mr. Wright may well reject the thesis of Mr. Halcombe, who, severely condemning "modern criticism," produces a modern criticism of his own, which makes John's Gospel the first--another of the hopeless devices of traditionalist critics to escape from the imbroglio of the tradition. Mr. Halcombe gravely reasons that the best Gospel came first; and Mr. Wright pronounces that "such a plan of composition seems unworthy of God and incredible in man." [129] But his own theory presents only a different set of incredibilities. He accepts without a misgiving the most staggering anomalies. "If it were not for a single incidental statement in S. John" (iv, 1, 2), he writes, "we should have concluded confidently that the sacrament of holy baptism was first instituted after the Resurrection." John's statement is in fact the sole intimation that Jesus or the disciples ever baptized at all; and it is either a designed or redacted equivoque or a flat contradiction in terms:-- When therefore the Lord knew that the Pharisees had heard that Jesus was making and baptizing more disciples than John (although Jesus himself baptized not, but his disciples), he left Judæa, and departed again into Galilee. The exegesis which can take this for a historical datum, and compose it with the theory of an oral tradition in which baptism either by Jesus or by his disciples never appears, is really outside serious discussion. The proposition that, given the main tradition, either Jesus or the disciples baptized freely, and that yet neither Matthew, Mark, nor Luke ever heard of it, is a mere flouting of the critical reason to which it professes to appeal. And there is no alternative save an honest confession that the record is incredible. The whole Christian tradition of baptism breaks down on examination, as does the record of the acceptance of the higher mission of Jesus by John, followed by statements affirming the continuance of John's movement and teaching alongside of the Jesuine. Mr. Wright is severe on the orthodox harmonists in general. "If I am right," he remarks, "the exhausting labours and tortuous explanations of the harmonists, in their endeavour to reconcile what cannot be reconciled, have been wasted." [130] That is exactly what the attentive reader must regretfully say of Mr. Wright's own reconstructions. His handling of the problems of the date of the crucifixion and the duration of the Ministry is a warning to every student who desires to be loyal to critical principle. By his final admission, no one can tell whether the Ministry lasted one, two, three, four, ten, or twenty years. He frankly rejects Sir William Ramsay's attempt to salve as history Luke's story of the census. The alleged procedure, he sees, is simply impossible--"S. Luke evidently has somewhat misunderstood the situation"--and he solves the problem by throwing over Luke's opening chapters as late accretions. But the question of the duration of the Ministry, which is bound up with that of the date of the crucifixion, and thus lies at the very centre of the whole historic problem, he is content to leave as insoluble, yet without a misgiving as to the historicity of the record. John makes Jesus go four times to Jerusalem; while in the synoptics we note "the extraordinary fact that they do not bring Christ to Jerusalem until He entered it to be crucified." [131] John puts the cleansing of the temple at the beginning of the Ministry, and the synoptics place it at the close. Orthodox exegesis then assumes two cleansings, but "such a repetition is, to say the least, highly improbable," for Mr. Wright. "What end would such a repetition serve? And if repeated, why should not S. Mark or S. John have told us so?" [132] Why, indeed! So Mr. Wright suggests that the synoptics may have telescoped several years into one. "Events in real life move much more slowly." [133] They certainly do! Yet, on the other hand, "the one-year ministry would solve many difficulties. It is the only scheme which reconciles S. Luke, S. Matthew, and S. John. Not improbably it is true: the more I consider it, the more attractive it appears." [134] Such, evidently, was the view of the Christian and other Gnostics. But Irenæus, the first Father to handle the problem, declared for a ministry of about twenty years, founding not only on the quotation in John, "Thou art not yet fifty years old," but on the fact that "all the elders who had known John the disciple of the Lord in Asia witness that he gave them this tradition." [135] On the other hand, in Mr. Wright's opinion, "ten years is the utmost length to which we can stretch the ministry without throwing overboard S. Luke's chronology altogether." [136] Yet Bishop Westcott declared concerning the record of Irenæus that, "however strange it may appear, some such view is not inconsistent with the only fixed historical dates which we have with regard to the Lord's life, the date of His birth, His baptism, and the banishment of Pilate." Thus turns the kaleidoscope of the tradition of which Harnack has latterly affirmed the "essential rightness, with a few important exceptions." It is hardly necessary to point out that the "oral" hypothesis, like the "documentary" and that of scattered logia, is more compatible with the negative than with the affirmative answer on the question of historicity. Contradictions and anomalies irreconcilable with the assumption of a real historical process present not difficulty but confirmation to the theory of a fictitious production, whether documentary or oral, to establish a transforming cult, supplying a quasi-historical basis where none such existed. Contradictory episodes and dicta stand for diverging sects and movements. Save for incidental concessions, all the traditionist schools alike ignore the grounds for inferring a long-continued modification of the Gospels at many hands; though, when Celsus late in the second century alleged the common practice of interpolation, Origen could only explain that it was the work of heretics. Such a procedure is for the rational critic only the natural continuance of the method of formation. Over the point upon which Mr. Wright most completely diverges from the various Unitarian schools--his acceptance of the Fourth Gospel as essentially historical--we need not here concern ourselves. Those who can accept the Fourth and the Synoptics cannot be supposed to admit the application of criticism to fundamentals at all, however critically they may handle secondary issues. And they have their defence. The liberalizers who see that the Fourth as a whole is a work of invention, making free play with previous material, and yet cannot conceive that the synoptics had beforehand followed a similar method, can make no claim to critical consistency. They merely realize that the Fourth and the Synoptics cannot all be records of a real Life and Teaching, and they decide to reject the last rather than the prior documents. The argument from "vividness" and lifelike detail simply goes by the board. In the fourth Gospel there are many more lifelike details than in the second; but that is not allowed to count. For the rational inquirer, however, the fact remains that the dismissal of the fourth Gospel is a beginning of historical as distinct from documentary discrimination; and it is to those who have made such a beginning that a further critical argument falls to be addressed. Mr. Wright, facing a chaos of doctrinal contradictions and chronological divergences, falls back trustingly on the reflection that "after all we are not saved by the Gospels, but by Christ." He has no misgiving as to the evangelists being inspired. "Inspiration quickens their spiritual perception, but does not altogether preserve them from errors of fact": e.g. Mt. i, 9, 11; Mk. iii, 26; Lk. ii, 2; John xii, 3; Acts v, 36; vii, 16. [137] Perhaps Mr. Wright would grant some dozens more of errors of fact if pressed; but his faith would not be modified unless he should be shaken on the resurrection. "History as well as criticism leaves us no room to question this. On so sure a foundation is our most holy faith erected." [138] For Mr. Wright that is supremely certain which a myriad Christian scholars now find incredible. And we can but take our leave of him with the question of the Jew of Celsus, "Did Jesus come into the world for this purpose, that we should not believe in him?" CHAPTER XV THE METHOD OF M. LOISY Turning away, so to speak, to the Gentiles, we concentrate our case in countering that of the "emancipated" defenders of the historicity of the Founder, as put by M. Loisy, the equal of any of the German or English professionals in scholarly competence, and the superior of some of them in candour. Precisely because Catholicism yields least preparation for the work of critical science, one who slowly makes his way out of it into the "liberal" position is reasonably to be credited with a special capacity for the task. And he is on the whole the most useful theorist for the purposes of the "liberal" school, inasmuch as he is prepared to give up many documentary items to which others needlessly cling. Nonetheless, M. Loisy is a confident champion of the historicity of the gospel Jesus. He does not indeed combine his summary presentment of his case with a discussion of the myth theory--that he is content to put aside in mass with the epithet "superficial"; but he puts his own construction all the more unreservedly. It is interesting to note his certitudes. No one of his school, perhaps, has more frequently claimed indubitability on points of inference. For instance:-- The advent of Jesus in the time of the procurator Pontius Pilate is a fact as certain as a thousand other facts on the subject of which no one dreams of raising the slightest suspicion; it is not doubtful that he announced the speedy coming of the kingdom of God ... since that idea ... which is the fundamental idea of the preaching of Christ in the synoptics, was incontestably that of his first disciples and Paul.... Great as are the real obscurities of the evangelical history, they are less numerous than they seem, and without doubt also less considerable on the important points. Paul ... does not say that Jesus predicted his death and resurrection. He does not even say what was the ground for his execution; but it does not seem doubtful that this ground was precisely the announcement of that kingdom of God which the apostles and Paul himself preached. Paul and the other apostles practised exorcisms in the name of Jesus on certain patients. It is told that Jesus had done the same, and without doubt he had really done it, with still more assurance and more success than his disciples. He [Jesus] without doubt never frequented the schools of the rabbins. His family was certainly pious. One fact is certain, that a seizure was concerted of which he [Judas] was the principal agent. It was without doubt arranged [at the house of the high priest at earliest daylight] that they should content themselves with denouncing the Galilean prophet to the Roman authority. Without doubt he [Jesus] expected to his last moment the succour which only death could bring him. It was Peter, it would seem, who first obtained the proof and the definitive certainty [of the resurrection] that faith called for. One day, at dawn, fishing on the lake of Tiberias, he saw Jesus. Already, without doubt, he had assembled around him the other disciples. [139] It is enviable to be so sans doute on so many points in a narrative of which so much has had to be abandoned as myth. The odd thing is that with all these certitudes M. Loisy introduces his book with the declaration, "We must [il faut] now renounce writing the life of Jesus. All the critics agree in recognizing that the materials are insufficient for such an enterprise." [140] And then, after an introduction in which he contests the view that nothing can be written with certainty, he gives us a Life of Jesus which is simply Renan revised! It is certainly brief; but that is because he is content to say only what he thinks there is to say, whereas his predecessors were at more or less pains to embed the thin thread of biography in a large mat of non-biographical material. M. Loisy seems to have become a little confused in the process of prefixing a critical introduction to three chapters of the former introduction to his commentary on the synoptics. "The present little book," he writes, "does not pretend to be that history which it is impossible to recover." Naturally not. But it proffers a Life of Jesus all the same. M. Loisy is quite satisfied that there was a Jesus of Nazareth, son of Joseph, a "worker in wood, carpenter, furniture maker, wheelwright." [141] "And Jesus followed originally the same profession." When he began his preaching of the speedy coming of the heavenly kingdom, "his mother Mary was a widow, with numerous children. It is not certain that Jesus was the eldest...." "It was probably John the Baptist who, unknowingly, awoke the vocation of the young carpenter of Nazareth. The crisis which traversed Judæa had evoked a prophet.... This preaching of terror made a great impression.... John was usually on the Jordan, baptizing in the river those touched by his burning words. Jesus was drawn like many others.... He was baptized, and remained some time in the desert." And so it goes on. "What appears most probable" is that Jesus had already "passed some time in solitude. A time of reflection and of preparation was indispensable between the life of the carpenter and the manifestation of the preacher of the evangel. Pushed to the desert by the sentiment of his vocation, Jesus was bound (devait) to be pursued by a more and more clear consciousness of that vocation." Thus M. Loisy can after all expand his sources. It was after the imprisonment of the Baptist that Jesus felt he "was to replace him, and by the better title because he felt himself predestined to become the human chief of the Kingdom, there to fill the function of Messiah." But "almost in spite of himself" he worked miracles. From his first stay at Capernaum the sick were brought to him to heal; and, fearing that the thaumaturg might hurt the preacher of the Kingdom, he left the place, only to be followed up and forced to make cures. "He operated with a peculiar efficacy on the category of patients supposed to be specially possessed by the demon.... He spoke to them with authority, and calm returned, at least for a time, to those troubled and unquiet souls." As to the greater cures, M. Loisy observes that "perhaps" there was ascribed to the healer the revivification of a dead maiden. On the instantaneous cures of lepers and the blind he naturally says nothing whatever. The dilemma of M. Loisy here recalls that of Professor Schmiedel over the same problem. The latter, claiming that it would be "difficult to deny" healing powers to Jesus, in view of the testimonies, is fain to argue that the Healer's personal claim (Mt. xi, 5; Lk. vii, 22; not in Mk.) to have healed the sick, the blind, the deaf, the lepers, and raised the dead, meant only a spiritual ministration, inasmuch as the claim concludes: "the poor also have the Gospel preached to them." On this view the assumed healing power really counts for nothing; and the last clause, which Schmiedel contends would be an anti-climax if the healings were real, becomes absolutely an anti-climax of the most hopeless kind. One day men will dismiss such confusions by noting that the theory of spiritual healing, an attempt to evade the mass of miracle, is only miracle-mongering of another kind. Are we to take it that regeneration of the morally dead, deaf, blind, and leprous is to be effected wholesale by a little preaching? Did the Christian community then consist wholly or mainly of these? M. Loisy in turn blenches at a claim in which "raising the dead" figures as a customary thing, with cures of leprosy and blindness; and he too falls back on the "spiritual" interpretation, [142] failing to note the flat fallacy of making the preaching to the poor at once a contrast and a climax to the spiritual healings, which also, on the hypothesis, are precisely matters of preaching. The Teacher is made to say: "I raise the spiritually dead, and cure the spiritually leprous, deaf, and blind, by preaching to them: to the poor I just preach." Schmiedel does not see that the preaching of the Gospel to the poor is added as the one thing that could be said to be done for them, who would otherwise have had no benefit; and that on his own view he ought to treat this as a late addition. On the contrary, he insists that the "evangelists" could not have thought of adding it; and that it makes an excellent climax if we take the healings to be purely spiritual. The rational argument would be, of course, that the first writer did make the Lord talk figuratively; and that a later redactor, taking the words literally, added the item of the poor, which he could not have done if he took them figuratively. But the irreducible fallacy is the assumption that as a figurative claim the speech is historic, one order of miracle being held allowable when another is not. Schmiedel has exemplified his own saying that "with very few exceptions all critics fall into the very grave error of immediately accepting a thing as true as soon as they have found themselves able to trace it to a 'source'." [143] It does not in the least follow that by substituting spiritual for physical miracle we acquire a right to claim historicity. And by the claim we simply cancel the "fame" of the records. M. Loisy, committing himself to some acts of healing where Schmiedel, after accepting the general claim, commits himself to none, balances vaguely between acts of faith-healing so-called and cures of sheer insanity, and accepts the tradition of an unfruitful point at Nazareth. [144] "A prophet is not without honour, save in his own country and among his own kin, and in his own house," Jesus had said before the disdainful astonishment of his fellow-citizens and the incredulity of his family; and he could work no miracle in that place. M. Loisy, it will be observed, here assumes that we are dealing with real cures, and tacitly rejects the qualifying clauses in Mark vi, 5, and Matthew xiii, 58, as he well may. They are indeed stamped with manipulation. "He could there do no mighty work save that he laid his hands upon a few sick folk and healed them," says the first; "he did not many mighty works there because of their unbelief," says the other. Such passages raise in an acute form the question how any statement in the Gospels can reasonably be taken as historical. What were the alleged mighty works done elsewhere save acts of healing the sick? And how many cases for such healing would naturally be presented by one small hamlet? If, again, all the healings were spiritual, what are we left with beyond the truism that sinners who did not believe were unbelieving? As the modifications produce pure counter-sense, it is critically permissible to surmise that they were lacking in the first copies, and were inserted merely to guard against profane cavils. But as the whole episode is found only in Matthew and Mark, it cannot figure in Dr. Petrie's Nucleus; and for similar reasons it is absent from the Primitive Gospel of the school of Bernhard Weiss. M. Loisy, recognizing that it is the kind of item that Luke would avoid for tactical reasons, is loyal enough to accept it as historical without the modifying words, and seeks no better explanation than that given in the cited words of Jesus. For those who aim at a rational comprehension of the documents, the critical induction is that the story was inserted for a reason; and the explanation which satisfies M. Loisy is so ill-considered that it only emphasizes the need. A prophet is likely to be looked at askance by his own people: yes, if he be an unimpressive one; but upon what critical principles is M. Loisy entitled to assume, as he constantly does, that the historic Jesus made a profound and ineffaceable impression upon all who came in contact with him, from the moment of his call to his disciples, and that nevertheless he had not made the slightest impression of superiority upon his own kinsmen and fellow-villagers, up to the age of thirty? How can such propositions cohere? Jesus has only to leave Nazareth and to command men to follow him, in order to be reverently recognized as a Superman: for M. Loisy, it is his mere personality that creates the faith which, after his death, makes his adherents proclaim him as a re-arisen God. Is this the kind of personality that in an eastern village would be known merely as that of "the carpenter," or the carpenter's son? M. Loisy, it is true, claims that Jesus had needed a period of solitude and meditation in the desert to make him a teacher, thus partly implying that before that experience the destined prophet might not be recognizable as such. But is it a historic proposition that the short time of solitude had worked a complete transformation? Was a quite normal or commonplace personality capable of such a transfiguration in a natural sense? That the critic had not even asked himself the question is made plain by his complete failure to raise the cognate question in regard to the marvellous healing powers with which he unhesitatingly credits the teacher, on the strength of the wholly supernaturalist testimony of the Gospels. These powers, according to M. Loisy, were also the instantaneous result of the short period of solitude in the desert. What pretensions can such a theory make to be in conformity with historical principles? Cannot M. Loisy see that he has only been miracle-mongering with a difference? It is bad enough that we should be asked to take for granted, on the strength of a typically Eastern record of wholesale thaumaturgy, a real "natural" gift for healing a variety of nervous disorders. But a natural gift of such a kind at least presupposes some process of development. M. Loisy obliviously asks us to believe that all of a sudden a man who had throughout his life shown no abnormal powers or qualities whatever, began to exercise them upon the largest scale almost immediately after he had left his native village. Now, whatever view be taken of the cynical formula that a prophet has no honour in his own village, it is idle to ask us to believe that a great healer has none. The local healer of any sort has an easy opening; and the redacted Gospels indicate uneasy recognition of the plain truth that Jesus needed only to heal the sick at Nazareth as elsewhere to conquer unbelief. It was precisely the cures that, in the Gospel story, had won him fame in the surrounding country. M. Loisy has merely burked the problem. A little later he takes as historical the "terrible invectives" pronounced against Capernaum and the neighbouring cities, which he attempts to explain. After all, the multitude had not gone beyond a "benevolent curiosity, quite ready to transform itself into an ironical incredulity. They had seen the miracles; they awaited meantime the kingdom, without otherwise preparing for it; and as the kingdom did not come they inclined less and less to believe in it." So they were doomed to a terrible judgment for their faithlessness. But why then was nothing said of the wholly unbelieving Nazareth? [145] If the towns which would not receive the disciples were to be testified against, what should be the fate of the hostile birthplace? Before such problems, the method of "liberal" accommodation here as always breaks down. To the eye of the evolutionist there is no great mystery. The avowal that the Founder either could not or did not work wonders at Nazareth might serve any one of several conceivable purposes. It might meet the cavils of those who in a later day found and said that nothing was known at Nazareth of a wonder-working Jesus who had dwelt there; even as the often-repeated story of the command to healed persons to keep silence could avail to turn the attacks of investigating doubters in regard to the miraculous cures. Or it might serve either to impugn the pretensions of those who at one stage of the movement called themselves "Nazarenes" in the sense of followers of the man of Nazareth, or to include the birthplace with the family and the disciples in that disparagement of the Jewish surroundings which would arise step for step with the spread of the Gentile movement. Any of these explanations is reasonable beside the thesis that a man gifted with marvellous healing powers, suddenly developed without any previous sign of them, could either find no one in his own village to let him try them, or to recognize them even when applied there, while the country round about, ex hypothesi, was ringing with his fame. And the criticism which puts us off with such solutions is really not well entitled to impute "superficiality" to those who reject it. The whole "carpenter" story, in which M. Loisy sees no difficulty, is one of the weakest of the Gospel attempts at circumstantiality. A trade or calling for the Messiah, as a true Jew, was perhaps as requisite in the eyes of some Jews as either a Davidic descent or an argument to prove that Davidic descent was for the Messiah unnecessary--both of which requirements the Gospels meet. Every good Jew, we are told, was required to have a handicraft or profession. A "Ben-Joseph," again, was called-for to meet the requirement, common among the Samaritans but not confined to them, of a Messiah so named. [146] But how came it that "the carpenter" of Mark is only "the carpenter's son" in Matthew? We can conceive the Gentilizing Luke putting both statements aside as ill-suited to his purpose, his Jesus being a God competing with Gentile Gods; but if there really was an early knowledge that Jesus was a carpenter, why should Matthew minimize it? And how came it that Origen [147] knew of no Gospel "current in the churches" in which Jesus was described as a carpenter? In this matter, as about the Infancy generally, the apocryphal gospels are as rich in detail as the canonical are poor. Again and again does Joseph figure in them as a working carpenter, or plough-maker, or house-builder. [148] The words of Origen might imply that it was from some such source that Celsus drew his statement that Jesus was a carpenter; and yet none of the preserved apocrypha speaks of Jesus as working at carpentry save by way of such miracles as that of the elongation of the piece of wood. Having regard to the mythical aspect of the whole, we suggest an easily misinterpreted Gnostic source for the basis. For some schools of the Gnostics, the Jewish God was the Demiourgos, the Artisan or Creator, a subordinate being in their divine hierarchy. The word could mean an artisan of any kind; and architector, the term in the Latin version of Thomas, points to a reflex of the idea of "creator" which attached to the Gnostic term. That the doctrine of the Demiourgos was already current in Jewish circles before the period commonly assigned to Christian Gnosticism has been shown with much probability by Dr. S. Karppe. In a Talmudic passage given as cited by Rabbi Jochanan ben Saccai before the middle of the first century, C.E., there is denunciation of those who "spare not the glory of the Creator"; and other passages interpret this in the sense of a heresy which "diminishes God" and "sows division between Israel and his God." [149] Debate of this kind emerges with the name of the Judæo-Christian heretic Cerinthus. For him, Jesus, though naturally born, was entered at his baptism by Christ, the son not of the Jewish God, the Demiourgos, but of the Supreme God. [150] There might well be, however, round Cerinthus, who retained Jewish leanings, Jews who held to the Judæo-Christian primary position that Jesus was the son of Yahweh. By some early Gnostics he could hardly fail to be so named. Could not then the Gnostic "Son of the Demiourgos," the Artificer, become for more literal Christists "son of the carpenter," even as the mystic seamless robe of Pagan myth became for some a garment which had to be cut in pieces to be divided? Met by such suggestions, M. Loisy tells us that we are superficial. But is he otherwise? Is he not simply evading his problem? Can he see nothing strange in the sudden mention of the carpenter in a "primary" gospel which had set out with a divine personage and had never mentioned his parents or upbringing? On the mythic theory the apparition of the Messiah without antecedents is precisely what was to be expected; if there was any clear Jewish expectation on the point, it was that he should come unlooked for, unheralded save, on one view, by "Elias." [151] Thus the Gospel record fits into the myth theory from the outset, while on the assumption of historicity it is but a series of enigmas. Holding by that assumption, M. Loisy is forced to violent measures to reconcile the isolated Marcan mention of "the son of Mary and brother of James and Joses and Judas and Simon" with the repeated mentions in the closing chapters of (1) "Mary the mother of James the less and of Joses and Salome; who when he was in Galilee followed [Jesus] and ministered unto him"; (2) "Mary the mother of Joses"; and (3) "Mary the mother of James and Salome." In these closing chapters this Mary the mother of James and Joses and Salome figures first as simply one who followed and ministered to Jesus, then as the mother of Joses, then as the mother of James and Salome, but never as the mother of Jesus. By what right does M. Loisy extract his certitude from the prior text? His simple course is to decide that Mary the mother of James and of Joses and of Salome in the closing chapters is not Mary the mother of James and Joses and Judas and Simon in chapter vi. "Certain Fathers," he had noted in his great work on the Synoptics (citing in particular Chrysostom), "desirous of making the synoptics accord with John, identify Mary the mother of James and Joses [in ch. xv] with the mother of Jesus; but it is evident that if the synoptics had thought of the mother of the Saviour they would not have thus designated her." [152] Precisely! And if the Gospel of Mark in its original form had contained the passage in chapter vi, how could it possibly have spoken in chapter xv of a Mary the mother of James and Joses without indicating either that she was or was not the same Mary? Would it have deliberately specified two Maries, each the mother of a James and a Joses, without a word of differentiation? To the faithful critic there is only one course open. He is bound to conclude that the passage in chapter vi is a late interpolation, the work of an inventor who had perhaps either accepted or anticipated the Johannine record that Mary the mother of Jesus was present at the crucifixion, but who did not--perhaps in his copy of Mark could not--completely carry out his purpose by making the Mary at the crucifixion the mother of the crucified Lord. We are not here concerned with the exegesis of those Fathers who desired to save the perpetual virginity of Mary; our business is simply with the texts. And we can but say that if, with M. Loisy, we make the Mary of chapter xv another Mary than her of chapter vi, we are bound on the same principle to find a third and a fourth Mary in "the mother of Joses" (xv, 47) and the "mother of James and Salome" (xvi, 1). [153] It will really not do. The mythological theory, which traces the mourning Maries to an ancient liturgy of a God-sacrifice and finds the mother-Mary of chapter vi an alien element, may seem to M. Loisy superficial, but it meets a problem which he simply evades. The only serious difficulties for M. Loisy, apparently, are the miracles and the prophecies. On the latter he makes no use of the Savonarola argument; and in his smaller work he ignores the "rock" text; but for him "the scene of Cæsarea Philippi, with the Messianic confession of Peter, seems thoroughly historic"; and on the other hand the story of Peter's denial of his Master causes him no misgiving. For a rational reader, the conception of the shamed Peter figuring soon afterwards as the merciless judge and supernatural slayer of the unhappy Ananias is extremely indigestible. The personage thus evolved is not only detestable but incredible. How could the coward apostle figure primarily and continuously as a pillar of the Church described? Harnack's method, as Professor Blass complains, [154] treats the denigration of Peter as the result of the strife between the Judaizing and the Gentilizing sections of the early Church; it is the natural hypothesis. Without it we are left to the detestable and impossible figure of the apostle who denies his Lord and has no mercy for a weak brother who merely keeps back part of a sum of money when professing freely to donate the whole. The critical reader will prefer to follow Harnack. But if we give up the story of the Denial, how shall we retain those which exalt and glorify the Judaizing apostle? If we give up Matthew's "rock" texts, with what consistency can we take as pure history the episode in Mark in which Peter, first of the twelve, declares "Thou art the Christ," eliciting the charge to "tell no man of him," followed by the prediction of death and resurrection, spoken "openly"? The episode in Mark passes into, and in Matthew is followed by, the fierce rebuke to the expostulating Peter, "Get thee behind me, Satan, for thou mindest not the things of God, but the things of men"--a strange sequel to Matthew's "Blessed art thou, Simon Bar-Jonah; for flesh and blood hath not revealed it unto thee, but my Father which is in Heaven." This is one of the passages that force the conclusion either that "Mark" had before him the fuller record, in "Matthew" or elsewhere, and turned it from a Petrine to an anti-Petrine purpose, or that a redactor did so. There is no escape from the evidence that we are dealing with two sharply conflicting constructions. The "Blessed art thou" passage and the "Satan" passage will not cohere. Which came first? Had "Luke" either before him? His "Get thee behind me, Satan" (iv, 8; A.V.), addressed to the devil in the Temptation, is ejected from the revised text as being absent from most of the ancient codices; and its presence in the Alexandrine suggests an attempt to get in somewhere a saying which otherwise had no place in the third Gospel. The absence alike of the blessing and the aspersion on Peter sets up the surmise that both are quite late, and that the insertion of one elicited the other. Again and again we find in the Gospels such traces of a strife over Petrine pretensions. In the story of the Denial, which we have found so incompatible with the attitude ascribed to Peter in the Acts, everyone since Strauss has recognized a process of redaction and interpolation. M. Loisy, saying nothing of the central problem, avowedly finds in Mark "a manipulation, deliberate and ill-managed, of a more simple statement." [155] This might have sufficed to put him on his guard; but all he has to say, after reducing the confused details to the inferred "simpler statement," is that "if there is in any part of the second Gospel a personal recollection of Peter it is the story of the denial in the form in which Mark found it." [156] Which makes sad havoc of the Peter-Mark tradition; for the story of the denial betrays itself as a late anti-Petrine invention, as aforesaid. CHAPTER XVI THE TRIAL CRUX Thus lax in his treatment of the subsidiary historical problems, M. Loisy is of necessity accommodating when he faces those which he recognizes to be central. Over the story of the "purification" of the temple--which Origen found at once unjustifiable and signally miraculous, since it was inconceivable that so great a multitude should have yielded to the mere attack of one man with a scourge of small cords--he has again no misgivings. He feels that some such story was needed to motive the priestly action against Jesus. [157] In the story of the astonishing sophism ascribed to Jesus on the subject of the tribute to Cæsar he sees only "cleverness" (habileté); and yet he accepts as historical--again by necessity of his thesis--Jesus's admission that he claimed to be king of the Jews. In the story of the betrayal he sees fit, docilely following Brandt, to allege "a little confused fighting, some blows given and received" over and above the cutting off of the ear of Malchus, an imagined item which he finds in none of the Gospels. Over the prayers of the Lord while the disciples slept he had hesitated in his commentary; [158] falling back on the notable avowal that "the sort of incoherence which results from describing a scene which passed while the witnesses [!] were asleep is without doubt to be explained by the origin and character of the narrative rather than by a negligence of the narrator." For once, I unreservedly assent to the sans doute. Quite unwittingly, M. Loisy has put himself in line with our mythical theory, which postulates a drama as the origin of the narrative. All the same, he accepts the narrative as history; and he sees nothing in the fusion of the two speeches: "Sleep on.... It is enough.... Arise now,"... though he rejects the proposal of Bleek, Volkmar, and Wellhausen to turn "Sleep on" into an interrogation, [159] and admits that the "It is enough" is an "unclear and very insufficient transition" from "Sleep on" to "Arise." Once more, which is the more superficial, this lame handling or the recognition of a transcribed drama with two speeches combined because of the omission of an exit and an entrance, in what M. Loisy admits to be "a highly dramatic mise en scène"? But it is over the trial in the house of the high priest that M. Loisy most astonishingly redacts the narrative. In his commentary he recognizes that Matthew's story, in which the scribes and the elders are "already gathered together" in the dead of night when Jesus is brought for trial, and the story of Mark, in which they "come together with" the high priest, are equally incredible; and that the story of the quest for witnesses in the night is still more so. Once again we have a sans doute with which we can agree. "The nocturnal procedure, no doubt, did not take place." [160] Recognizing further that a Jewish blasphemer was by the Levitical law to be stoned, not crucified, he simply gives up the whole narrative as a product of "the Christian tradition," bent on saddling the Jews rather than the Romans with the responsibility of the crucifixion. [161] In his smaller work he simply cuts the knot and alleges:-- "As soon as the first daylight had come (dès les premiers lueurs du jour), a reunion was held at the house of (chez) the chief priest," where it was without doubt [!] arranged that they should content themselves with denouncing the Galilean prophet to the Roman authority as a disturber and a false Messiah. But it was necessary to arrange the terms of the accusation and distribute the rôles, to get together and prepare the witnesses. These measures were soon taken. As soon as morning had come (dès le matin) the priests brought their prisoner chained before the tribunal of Pontius Pilate. [162] One certainly cannot call this manipulation of the texts "superficial." It is sheer deliberate dissolution and reconstruction of the narrative, by way of substituting something more plausible for the incredible original, when all the while the credibility of the original is the thesis maintained. And yet even the reconstruction is so thoughtlessly managed that we get only a slightly less impossible account. Only a scholar who never followed the details of a legal process could suggest that the task of hunting up witnesses and arranging a procedure could be carried through between "earliest dawn" and "morning." And for the headlong haste of such a procedure, only an hour or so after the arrest of the prisoner, no explanation is even suggested. A violent impossibility in the record, destructive of all faith in its historicity at this point, is sought to be saved by a violent redaction which simply "makes hay" of the very documents founded on. And this illicit violence is resorted to because M. Loisy recognizes that if he is to retain a historical Jesus at all he must bring the whole trial story into a historical shape. He certainly had cause to take drastic measures. Long ago it was pointed out that by Jewish law a prisoner must not be condemned to death on the day of his trial: Judicia de capitalibus finiunt eodem die si sint ad absolutionem; si vero sint ad damnationem, finiuntur die sequente. [163] This might alone suffice to "bring into doubt" the priestly trial; to say nothing of the modern Jewish protest that a capital prosecution and execution on either the day after or the day of the Passover, at the instance of the High Priest, was unthinkable. [164] There were good reasons, then, for seeking to found on the trial before Pilate. Let us now survey broadly the process of historical criticism thus far. 1. At an early stage the reconstructors gave up as pure fiction the third trial before Herod, which appears solely in Luke. They did not ask what historical knowledge, or what sense of history, can have existed in a community among which such an absolute invention found ready currency. 2. The next step was to reject as "unhistorical" the narrative of the fourth Gospel, in which Jesus (a) is examined by Annas the high priest, but in no sense tried; (b) is then sent bound to Caiaphas the high priest; (c) is immediately passed on from Caiaphas to Pilate, who examines him within doors while the priests remain outside, there being thus no Jewish witnesses; (d) tells Pilate "My kingdom is not of this world," and convinces him that he is not punishable. Rejecting this account, as they well might, the reconstructors failed to ask themselves what such an invention signifies. 3. Next disappears the so-called historical narrative of the trial before the high priest and chief priests in the synoptics. [165] That in turn, taken on its merits, is found flagrantly incredible; and now M. Loisy in effect puts it aside, reducing it to a fundamentally different form. Three of the trial stories are thus in turn rejected as hopelessly unhistorical. And now we are invited to regard as "incontestable" the fourth, the trial before Pilate as related in the synoptics; the Johannine version being dismissed as fiction. In the scientific sense of the word [166] the rejected stories have been classed as myths. And still we are told that the "myth-theory" is outside discussion. Yet, even in coming to the trial before Pilate, M. Loisy has to begin by noting the improbability that the entire sanhedrim should have attended it, as is alleged by the synoptics. "In the minds of the evangelists the sanhedrim represents the Jews, and it was the Jews who caused the death of Jesus. Hence the general expressions which the redactors used the more willingly because they were very incompletely informed on the facts." [167] Still, the trial must stand good. Judas goes the way of myth; but the unintelligible procedure of Pilate must be salved. With his general loyalty to the facts as he sees them M. Loisy notes, with Brandt, that in the synoptics as in John there is no Jesuist eye-witness or auditor to report for the faithful what took place. "Here begin the gaps in the Passion-history," remarks Brandt. [168] "Tradition could learn only by indirect ways the general features of the interrogation and the principal incidents which passed between the morning of Friday and the hour of the crucifixion," says Loisy. [169] The student really concerned to get at history is compelled to pronounce that the record thus avowed to be mainly guesswork is myth. Let us take the report as we have it in Mark:-- And straightway [after the condemnation by the priests] in the morning the chief priests, with the elders and scribes and the whole council, held a consultation, and bound Jesus and carried him away, and delivered him up to Pilate. And Pilate asked him, Art thou the King of the Jews? And he answering saith unto him, Thou sayest.... And Pilate again asked him, saying, Answerest thou nothing? behold how many things they accuse thee of. But Jesus no more answered anything; insomuch that Pilate marvelled. To this meagre record, in which a capital case is carried before the governor without the slightest documentary preliminaries, and in which he begins to interrogate before a word has been said about the indictment, Matthew adds nothing save the story of Pilate's wife's dream, which the reconstructors are fain to dismiss; while Luke, who sees fit to premise specific charges of anti-Roman sedition, follows them up simply by Pilate's question and Jesus's assenting answer; and then, quite unintelligibly, makes Pilate declare "unto the chief priests and the multitudes, I find no fault in this man." What can it mean? All the exegetes now agree that the "Thou sayest" of Jesus has the force of "I am." [170] By avowing that he called himself King of the Jews he committed a very grave offence towards Rome, unless he explained the title in a mystic sense; and the records exclude any such explanation. In Mark and Matthew the effect is the same: Pilate finds no guilt, and proposes release; but yields to the multitude and the priests. Could any serious student bring himself to regard this as history unless he presupposed the historicity of the crucifixion and was ready to let pass any semblance of motivation for it? Once more we must affirm that the documents merely reveal entire ignorance of any judicial procedure. Pilate finally puts to death a Jewish prisoner at the request of the sanhedrim and the multitude on a charge for which he finds no evidence. That Pilate should make light of a Jew's life is indeed easily to be believed: he is exhibited to us by Josephus as an entirely ruthless Roman; but both the synoptics and the fourth Gospel present him in an entirely different light; and no record or commentary makes it intelligible that the Roman governor should crucify a politically unoffending Jew for a purely ecclesiastical Jewish offence. The offence against Rome he is expressly represented as finding imaginary; and yet on the other hand the offence as avowed is very real. By the method of mere accommodation or partial critical rationalism the ascription of the prosecution to the Jews is accounted for as the result of the later developed anti-Judaism of the Christians. But on that view what historical basis have we left? If the later Christians could invent the trial and the Resurrection, what was to prevent their inventing the crucifixion? M. Loisy admits that if the trial goes the historicity of Jesus goes with it; then the crucifixion becomes myth. To say that this is impossible is to beg the question: the myth theory offers the solution. Given the datum of an original cult-sacrament which had grown out of an ancient ritual-sacrifice, the crucifixion is the first step towards the establishment of a biography of Jesus. A trial and a condemnation, again, are necessary preliminaries to that; and when we critically examine these we find that they are patently unhistorical. Upon no theory of historicity can their contradictions and impossibilities be explained. Once we make the hypothesis, however, that the crucifixion is itself myth, the imbroglio becomes intelligible. What we do know historically is that the early Christists included Judaizers and Gentilizers; this is established by the sect-history, apart from the Acts and the Epistles. For the Judaizers an execution by the Romans was necessary; for the Gentilizers, who were bound to guard against official Roman resentment, and whose hostility to the Jews was progressive, a Jewish prosecution was equally necessary. In the surviving mystery-play, predominantly a Gentile performance as it now stands in the Gospels, an impossible Jewish trial is followed by an equally impossible Roman trial, in which Jesus by doctrinal necessity avows that he is King of the Jews, thereby salving his Messiahship; while, to keep the guilt on Jewish shoulders and to exclude the suspicion of anti-Roman bias, Pilate is made to disclaim all responsibility. Such is, briefly, the outcome of the myth theory. Upon what other theory can the documents be explained? Upon what other theory, again, can we explain the vast contrast between the triumphal entry into Jerusalem a few days before and the absolute unanimity of the priest-led multitude in demanding the execution of Jesus against the wish of Pilate? The reconstructors accept both items, with arbitrary modifications, as historical; though the story of the entry is preceded by a mythical item about the choice of the ass-foal whereon never man had sat, [171] which is much more stressed and developed than the main point. We are asked to believe that Jesus on his entry is enthusiastically acclaimed by a great multitude as Son of David and King of Israel; and that a few days later not a voice is raised to save his life. Gentilizing Christians could easily credit such things of the Jews. Can a historical student do so? For the former it was enough that in the narrative the Messiahship of the Lord had been publicly accepted; coherence was not required. But historicity means coherence. Last of all, the item of Barabbas, one of the elaborate irrelevancies which leap to the eye in a narrative so destitute of essentials, turns out to carry a curious corroboration to the myth-theory. This is not the place to develop the probable kinship of the Barabbas of the Gospels with the (misspelt) Karabbas [172] of Philo; but we may note the probable reason for the introduction of the name into the myth. As the story stands, it serves merely to heighten the guilt of the Jews, making them in mass save the life of a murderer rather than that of the divine Saviour. The whole story is plainly unhistorical: "neither these details nor those which follow," remarks M. Loisy (after noting the "extremely vague indications under an appearance of precision" in regard to the antecedents of Barabbas), "seem discussible from the point of view of history." [173] In point of fact, Pilate is made to release an ostensible ringleader of "men who in the insurrection [unspecified] had committed murder," thus making his action doubly inconceivable. Why was such an item introduced at all? It is not a case for very confident explanation; but when we note that Barabbas means "Son of the Father"; that the Karabbas of Philo is treated as a mock-king; and that the reading "Jesus Barabbas" in Matt, xxvii, 16, 17, was long the accepted one in the ancient church, [174] we are strongly led to infer (1) that the formula "Jesus the Son of the Father" was well known among the first Christians as being connected with a popular rite--else how could such a strange perplexity be introduced into the text?--and (2) that the real reason for introducing it was that those anti-Christians who knew of the name and rite in question used their knowledge against the faith. The way to rebut them was to present Jesus Barabbas not only as a murderer but as the man actually released to the Jewish people instead of Jesus the Christ, proposed to be released by Pilate. Again, then, on the mythical theory, we find a meaning and a sane solution where the historical theory can offer none. Sir James Frazer's hypothesis that the story of the triumphal entry may preserve a tradition of a mock-royal procession for a destined victim is only a partial solution; and his further hypothesis of a strangely ignored coincidence between a Barabbas rite and the actual crucifixion of the Christian "Son of the Father" is but a sacrifice of mythological principle to the assumption of historicity. The conception of Jesus as sacrificed lies at the core of early Christian cult-propaganda. CHAPTER XVII THE JESUS-FIGURE OF M. LOISY It is the same, finally, with the story of the original evangel as with the story of the tragedy; M. Loisy fails to come within sight of historicity in the one case as in the other. Having fallen back on the thesis, so popularized by Renan, that faith in the necessary resurrection of the Messiah created the legend of the empty tomb and the divine apparitions, he proceeds to formulate the Teaching which had created the faith. The historic creed of Christianity is thus figured as a pyramid poised on the apex of a hallucination; but we are assured that the hallucination resulted from the greatness of the Personality of the slain Teacher. Taking no note of any other conception of a possible origination of the cult, M. Loisy pronounces that to explain it we must hold that the "group of adherents" had before the crucifixion evolved a "religious life" sufficiently deep to sustain the feeling that the death of the Master was an accident, "grave no doubt [!] and perturbing, but reparable"; [175] and to explain this religious life he goes back to the Master's doctrine. And the moment he begins his exposition he vacillates anew over the old dilemma:-- Jesus pursued a work, not the propagation of a belief; he did not explain theoretically the Kingdom of Heaven, he prepared its coming by exhorting men to repent. Nevertheless even the work of Jesus attaches itself to the idea of the celestial kingdom; it defines itself in that idea, which presupposes, implies, or involves with it other ideas. It is this combination of ideas familiar to Christ that we must reconstruct with the help of the Gospels.... The idea of the kingdom of God is, in a sense, all the Gospel; but it is also all Judaism.... [176] Exactly. Jesus, in effect, preached just what the Baptist is said to have preached; only without baptism. The monition to repent was simply the monition of all the prophets and all the eschatologists; and it had not the attraction of baptism which the evangel of the Baptist was said to have. So that the Twelve, on the showing of M. Loisy, went through Jewry uttering only one familiar phrase--and casting out devils--and dooming those who refused to hear them. And, by their own report, it was in casting out devils that they had their success. The simple name of Jesus, according to the Gospels, availed for that where he had never appeared in person. Yet, again, the name is used by non-adherents for the same purpose (Mk. ix, 38). And still M. Loisy confidently claims that there is no trace of a pre-Christian Jesus cult in Palestine! [177] Concerning the nullity of the original evangel he is quite unwittingly explicit when he is resisting the myth theory; albeit in the act of contradicting himself:-- Paul, indeed, proclaims [se réclame du] an immortal Christ, or more exactly a Christ dead and re-arisen, not the Jesus preaching the evangel in Galilee and at Jerusalem. But his attitude is easy to explain.... He was aware of the circumstances of the death of Christ, and of what was preached by his followers.... If he boasted of having learned nothing from the old [sic] apostles, it was that, in reality, he had never been at their school.... But he was able [il lui arrive] also to affirm the conformity of his teaching with theirs: that is what he did in the passage ... touching the death and resurrection of Jesus. Paul converted had nothing to demand of the first apostles of Jesus, because he knew already what they had preached. [178] So that the doctrine of an immortal or resurrected Christ was the sole doctrine of the Apostles. There was no other evangel. And this doctrine, which had just been declared to be born of the personal impression made by Jesus on his followers, is also the doctrine of Paul, who had never seen Jesus. The primary evangel having thus simply disappeared, we revert to the Jesuine Teaching (addressed in large part only to the disciples) which had formed among disciples and adherents such a "religious life" as served to develop the conviction that the Master could not really die, and so prepared the foundation upon which Paul built historic Christianity. [179] We have seen how M. Loisy vacillates over the Founder's conception of the Kingdom of God in relation to his moral teaching. When it is a question of a myth theory, M. Loisy insists upon exactitude. "In order that the thesis should be sustainable, it would be necessary that a well-defined myth should have existed in some Jewish sect." [180] But there is no call for well-defined proofs or notions when it is a question of defending the tradition. For our critic, Jesus is first and foremost an intense believer in a miraculous advent of that Kingdom which had come simply to mean "the sovereignty of God." [181] Even this conception is of necessity vague to the last degree:-- The primitive nationalism subsisted at least in the framework [cadre] and the exterior economy of the kingdom of God; it maintained itself also in [jusque dans] the evangel of Jesus. At the same time the kingdom of God is not a simple moral reform, to safeguard the law of the celestial Sovereign and guarantee the happiness of the faithful. The action of Yahweh ... governs the entire universe.... [The cosmological tradition] developed the idea of a definite triumph of light over darkness, of order over chaos, a triumph which was to be the final victory of good over evil.... The terrestrial kingdoms ... were to disappear, to give place to the reign of Israel, which was the reign of the just, the reign of God. In this great instauration of the divine order, in this regeneration of the universe, the divine justice was to manifest itself by the resurrection of all the true faithful. [182] This transformation, then--the long current dream of Jewry--was to be a vast miracle, and in that miracle Jesus believed he was to play the part of the Messiah, the divine representative. That expectation sustained him till the moment of his death. [183] Nevertheless "his idea of the reign of God was not a patriotic hallucination or the dream of an excited [exalté] mystic. The reign of God is the reign of justice." [184] (As if the second sentence proved the first.) And yet, all the while: "On the whole, the Gospel ethic is no more consistent than the hope of the kingdom.... Considered in themselves, as the Gospel makes them known to us, they are not mythic but mystic." [185] Thus helped to a definite conception, we turn to the ethic, which we have seen to be in the main a compilation from Jewish literature. This fact M. Loisy admits, only to deny that it has any significance:-- He opposes the voice of his conscience to the tradition of the doctors. There lies precisely the originality of his teaching, which, if one recomposed the materials piece by piece, could be found scattered in the Biblical writings or in the sayings of the rabbis. Like every man who speaks to men, Jesus takes his ideas in the common treasure of his environment and his time; but as to what he makes of it [pour le parti qu'il en tire] one does not say that it proceeds from any one. This independence results, probably, at once from his character and from the circumstances of his education. [186] Thus, as regards the Sermon on the Mount, the act of collecting a number of ethical precepts and maxims from the current literature and lore of one's people and curtly enouncing them, without development, is a proof of supreme moral originality, and is to be regarded as opposing the voice of one's conscience to tradition. Had the rabbis, then, no conscience? Was their ethic a mere tradition, even when they gave out or originated the maxims of the Sermon on the Mount? Was Hillel but a mouth-piece of the law? M. Loisy must in justice pardon us for avowing that so far he has but duplicated a worn-out paralogism, and that he has evaded the plain documentary fact that the Sermon is a literary compilation, [187] and not a discourse at all. And when we turn to specific teachings, his commentary does but compel us to ask how the teaching which he insists upon taking as genuinely uttered by the Teacher can be associated with the Messianist he has been describing. Accepting as genuine the story of the woman taken in adultery, now bracketed in the English Revised Version as being absent from the most ancient manuscripts, but presumably found in the lost Gospel of the Hebrews, [188] he remarks that "the elect of the kingdom must not use marriage; they were to be as the angels in heaven"; [189] and at the same time he describes the veto on divorce as "a trait so personal to the teaching of Christ, and so difficult to comprehend if one denies all originality to that teaching." [190] That is to say, the believer in the speedy end of all marriage relations, and the establishment of a new and angelic life for all who survive, occupied himself earnestly with the restriction or abolition of divorce! At other junctures M. Loisy is ready to see how the doctrines of sections and movements in the later Christian Church were introduced into the Gospels. He will not admit of such an explanation here. Does he then see a supreme moral inspiration in the Montanists and other Christian sectaries who set their faces against the sexual instinct? Has he forgotten the text in Malachi (ii, 14-16), vetoing a heartless divorce? And has he never heard of the saying of Rabbi Eliezer, echoed elsewhere in the Talmud, that the altar sheds tears over him who puts away his first wife? Is the moral originality of the Gospel teaching to be established by merely ignoring all previous teaching to the same effect? But it is hardly necessary thus to revert to the question of the ethical originality of the Gospel teaching: the essential issue here is the impossible combination presented to us by M. Loisy as his historical Jesus. Without any sign of misgiving he offers us the figure of a mystic awaiting the imminent end of the old order of things and the substitution of a new and heavenly order, doubled with a moralist deeply preoccupied over certain details of the vanishing life and a prescription for their regulation in the future in which they were not to exist. M. Loisy is, indeed, liable to be censured by the orthodox and the "liberals" alike for his explicit avowal that "It is very superfluous to seek in the Gospel a doctrine of social economy, or even a program of moral conduct for individual existences which were to go on according to the order of nature, in the indefinite sequence of humanity." [191] This seems to overlook the passage (Mt. xxv, 34-46) in which eternal life is promised to those who succour the distressed. Such a rule for conduct does seem to indicate some regard for the continuance of life on the normal lines. It is, we know, a simple adaptation from the ritual of the Egyptian Book of the Dead, but it has had from many commentators even such praise for "originality" as M. Loisy has bestowed on the Teaching in general. Such teaching is, in point of fact, quite undeserving of praise for "spirituality," inasmuch as it in effect recommends benevolence as a way of securing eternal life. He who succours the distressed on the motive so supplied is plainly a long way below the Good Samaritan or the simple compassionate human being of everyday life. But this is really the ground-note of all the Gospel ethic. The Beatitudes are promises of compensatory bliss; and, indeed, in a system which founds upon immortality there is no escape from this kind of motivation. The Pagan appeal, made alternately to nobleness and to concern for good repute among one's fellows, is clearly on the higher plane, and would tend to maintain, so far as mere moral appeal can, a nobler type of human being. It is not even clear, in the light of the general Judaism of the doctrine of the Kingdom, whether "one of these my brethren" can mean more than "one of the faith." But however that may be, we have to note that for M. Loisy the promise of reward at the judgment for help given to the distressed is not a Jesuine utterance. It occurs only in Matthew; and we may readily agree that, if such an allocution were really delivered by the alleged Founder, it could not conceivably have been left to one collector to preserve it. "The redactor of the first Gospel," comments M. Loisy in his best critical vein, "thought he ought to put this here to complete his collection of instructions concerning the parousia and the great judgment. It is ... a piece in which is developed, from the point of view of the last judgment, the word of the Lord: 'He that receiveth you receiveth me.'" So that a teaching which still makes a great impression on the Christian consciousness is confessedly but a development by an unknown hand of a bare Messianic phrase. "It has been visibly arranged to close the compilation of discourses and parables made here by the redactor of the first Gospel." [192] Yet when we come to the parable of the Good Samaritan, which occurs only in Luke, and which also cannot be conceived as being deliberately omitted by the previous evangelists if it had been uttered by the Master, M. Loisy indulges in a very long discourse that reads like a preserved sermon, only to conclude that "the parable of the Samaritan thus offers itself as one of the most authentic testimonies [un témoignage authentique entre tous] of the teaching of Jesus. It is clear that the evangelist has not invented it, but that he has found it ready made, and that he has only given it a frame, in his fashion." [193] It is with a certain embarrassment over the spectacle of a good scholar's divagation that one proceeds to point to the absolute non sequitur in M. Loisy's comment. Supposing we agree that the evangelist found the parable ready made, wherein is this case differentiated from that of the passage in Matthew last noted? That is at least as likely to have been found ready made; yet it is not in that case claimed by M. Loisy that the passage is therefore a record of a real Jesuine utterance. He sees that it is a "patch," a development. Now, the parable of the Good Samaritan is a plain documentary "patch," an insertion without context, between the address of Jesus to the disciples after that to the returned Seventy (whose mission M. Loisy had somewhat nervously dismissed as the evangelist's "figurative frame for the evangelizing of the pagans" [194]) and the resumption: "Now, as they went on their way...." It is impossible to imagine a more palpable insertion. First the mythic Seventy, the creation of a Gentilizing Christian, make their report on the exact lines of the report of the Twelve; then Jesus addresses them; then he "rejoices in the Holy Spirit." Then, "turning to the disciples, he said privately, Blessed are the eyes which see the things that ye see...." This last suggests an earlier allocution to the Twelve which has had to be turned into a "private" speech to them to distinguish it from the reply to the Seventy. [195] But however that may be, the natural sequel is verse 38, "Now, as they went on their way...." And it is between these points of natural connection that we get the parable episode beginning: "And behold, a certain lawyer stood up and tempted him...." Well may M. Loisy say that the episode is a thing "found ready made"; it has certainly no place in the original document. But it was "made" by a later hand, and it was inserted either by him who made it or by him who "found" it. It is the work of a Gentilizer, aiming at Jewish priests and Levites, and in a less degree at the scribes, whom he treats as comparatively open to instruction. It is part of the Gentilizing propaganda which evolved the story of the mission of the Seventy, and it is naturally inserted after that episode. But to admit that to be a work of redaction and to call the parable a genuine Jesuine utterance is only to give one more distressing illustration of the common collapse of the simplest principles of documentary criticism under the sway of conservative prepossession. M. Loisy retains the parable of the Good Samaritan as Jesuine simply because he feels that to abandon it is to come near making an end of the claim for the moral originality of the Gospels. It is probably from a Gentile hand, though it may conceivably have come from an enlightened Jew. And so we find M. Loisy, with all his scholarly painstaking and his laudable measure of candour, presenting us finally with an uncritical result. His historical Jesus will not cohere. It is a blend of early Judaic eschatology with later ethical common sense, early Judaic humanity and particularism with later Gentile universalism; even as the Gospels are a mosaic of a dozen other diverging and conflicting tendencies, early and late. "One can explain to oneself Jesus," exclaims M. Loisy; "one cannot explain to oneself those who invented him." [196] Let the reader judge for himself whether M. Loisy has given us any explanation; and whether, after our survey, there is any scientific difficulty in the conception of an imaginary personage produced, like an ideal photograph resulting from a whole series of superimposed portraits, by the continued travail of generations of men variously bent on picturing a Messiah for their hopes, a God for their salvation, and a Teacher for their lives. CHAPTER XVIII THE PAULINE PROBLEM How much M. Loisy is swayed by prepossession may be further gathered from his argumentation over the "testimony of Paul" in connection with his criticism of the myth theory. Professor Drews, he remarks, does not follow those who contest the authenticity of the Epistles, "though the interest of his thesis imperiously demands it"; and again: "Paul is a dangerous witness for the mythic hypothesis." [197] It may be worth while for me here to note that a study of the Pauline epistles, on the view that "the four" were probably genuine in the main, was a determining factor in my own resort to the mythical hypothesis. The critical situation created by realizing that Paul practically knew nothing of the Gospel narratives save the detachable item of the resurrection was for me almost exactly analogous to that created by realizing that the Israel of the Book of Judges knew nothing of the Pentateuchal life in the wilderness. So far from being a witness against the myth theory, the Pauline literature was one of the first clear grounds for that theory. The school of Van Manen can realize, what M. Loisy cannot, that the spuriousness of the whole Pauline literature, so far from being "imperiously required" by the myth theory, sets up for that a certain complication. [198] As a matter of fact, Van Manen took exactly the converse view to that of M. Loisy:-- He was at bottom a man of conservative character, and it was only with great reluctance that he found himself compelled to abandon the Paul consecrated by tradition. But when, as a man of science, he had once made this sacrifice to his convictions, his belief in an historical Jesus received a fresh accession of strength; now at length the existence of Jesus had become probable. If the letters were written a century later than the time when Jesus lived, then his deification in the Pauline letters ceases to be so astonishing. [199] Decidedly M. Loisy had been somewhat superficial in his estimate of the tendencies of the argument over Paul. Now, the myth theory, as it happens, is neither made nor marred by any decision as to the spuriousness of the Pauline letters. The crucial point is that, whether early or late--and the dating of them as pseudepigrapha is a difficult matter--the cardinal epistles have been interpolated. This became clear to me at an early stage in my studies, independently of any previous criticism. That the two passages, 1 Cor. xi, 23-28; xv, 3-11, are interpolations, and that in the second case the interpolation has been added to, are as clear results of pure documentary analysis as any in the whole field of the discussion. [200] And when M. Loisy ascribes to Professor Drews an "entirely gratuitous hypothesis of interpolation," and implies that such hypotheses are set up because the texts are "extremely awkward for the mythic theory," [201] he is himself misled by his parti pris. Whereas I came to my conclusions [202] as to interpolation while working towards the myth theory, exactly the same conclusions as mine, I afterwards found, had been previously reached by at least one continental scholar [203] who had not the mythic theory in view; and later by others [204] who equally stood aloof from it. M. Loisy would do well to ask himself whether it is not he who is uncritically swayed by his presuppositions, and whether the men to whom he imputes such bias are not the really disinterested critics. In regard to the text of 1 Cor. xv, 3 sq., he describes as surprising the argument that the account of the appearance of Jesus to "five hundred at once" is shown to be late by its absence from the Gospels. This very silence of the evangelists, he insists, "renders unplausible [invraisemblable] the entirely gratuitous hypothesis of an interpolation." [205] One is driven to wonder what conception M. Loisy has formed of the manner of the compilation of the Gospels. On his view, Paul had very early put in currency the record that the risen Jesus had appeared to "above five hundred brethren at once"; yet this record, so welcome to the Church, was never inserted in the Gospels. Why not? In M. Loisy's opinion, one of them, at least, was penned or redacted in the Pauline interest:-- One may without doubt ... affirm that the oldest of the synoptics, the Gospel of Mark, was composed, in a certain measure, in favour of Paul.... The same Gospel seems to have the conscious purpose of lowering the Galilean disciples to the advantage of Paul and his disciples. [206] And while M. Loisy justly rejects, as opposed to the internal evidence, the claim that "Luke" is the intimate of Paul, and even denies that the third Gospel is really Pauline in tendency, [207] he will hardly say that it is anti-Pauline, or likely on that or any other score to repel an important item of testimony to the appearances of the risen Jesus, supplied by such an authority as the Apostle to the Gentiles. He can give no reason whatever, then, why the "five hundred" item should appear neither in Gospels nor Acts. It is in point of fact to be taken as a very late interpolation indeed. And if M. Loisy, as in duty bound, would but note the sequence: "then to the twelve; then ... to above five hundred ... then to all the apostles," he might, as simple critic, see that there have been successive tamperings. As to the genuineness and the dating of the epistles, it may be well at this point to put the issue clearly. The general case of Van Manen is decidedly strong; and the entire absence from the Acts of any mention of any public epistle by Paul is all in Van Manen's favour. The Epistle to the Romans is so far dissolved under criticism that it might be classed as neither Pauline nor an epistle. [208] That there are late literary elements in the rest of the cardinal "four" I have myself argued, [209] independently of the question of the interpolations of quasi-history. For a free historical student there can be no primary question of how the dating of the epistles will affect the problem of the historicity of Jesus: the problem is to be scientifically solved on its merits. But while the school of Van Manen fail to recognize interpolations in the epistles as they stand, and to revise their chronology in the light of that fact, they are postponing the critical settlement. That the rejection of all the Pauline epistles as pseudepigraphic is not at all a counter stroke to the myth theory is shown by Mr. Whittaker's definite acceptance of both positions. Van Manen was premature on the historicity question. Assuredly there is much to be done before the myth theory can be reduced to a definitive scientific form. It is to be hoped that, free as it is from perverting commitments, it may be developed rather more rapidly than the "liberal" theory of the human Christ, which has been on the stocks for over a hundred years without securing any higher measure of unanimity than exists among the Christian sects. But it can have no rapid acceptance. Questions of myth analogies--always open to the perverse handling of men who cannot or will not see that in mythology and anthropology claims of analogy are not claims of derivation--are apt to be obscure at best; and the establishment of the hypothesis of a pre-Christian Jesus cult has been admitted from the outset to be difficult. And the sociological history of the rise of Christianity, to which the myth question is but preparatory, has still to be written. In this direction too there may be complications. Pastor Kalthoff's very important treatise on The Rise of Christianity puts the theory that the Church began as a communistic body; and Karl Kautsky, in his Der Ursprung des Christenthums (1908), has vigorously developed that conception. It has some strong grounds, and it is beset by very serious difficulties, which Kautsky, I think, has not met. When he denies that there were Hellenistic experiments and propagandas which in a later period could have set some Christian enthusiasts upon inventing a communistic beginning for the Church, he seems to ignore his own argument from the Epistle of James, and evidence which he could have found in Kalthoff. But unless the communistic theory (adumbrated long ago in De Quincey's rash thesis that the Essenes were the first Christians) is pressed as giving the whole origin of Christianity, it remains a part rather of the sociological problem than of the hierological inquiry. And I do not think that Kalthoff, had he lived, would have so pressed it. He saw, I think, that there is a primary religious factor and problem, and that the other is secondary. There was a sacramental cult before there could be any communism. When the origin of the cult is made fairly clear the question of communism may be settled. But the Acts is a very dubious basis for a historical theory, and the Epistle of James tells rather of Ebionism than of communism. The history of the Ebionites and the Nazarenes, which for me was one of the points of reversion to a myth theory, seems to be the true starting point for the history of the Church. CHAPTER XIX THE HISTORY OF THE DISCUSSION In all things, finally, one must be prepared for a boundless operation of the spirit of controversy, which is as it were the atmosphere of intellectual progress, and, like the physical atmosphere, is traversed by much dust, many gusts, and many persistent currents. An infinite quantity of mere insolence and mere personal aspersion arises round every problem that disturbs widespread prejudice: we have seen some of it even in a survey which aims solely at bringing out the main arguments on our issue. And where a body of doctrine is related to an economic foundation, controversy is sure to be specially protracted. This has already been abundantly seen in the development of the "liberal" view of the human Christ, of which M. Loisy may be taken as an advanced representative; while Professor Schmiedel may rank as an exponent too advanced to be otherwise than suspect for some of the school. It is instructive to realize that M. Loisy stands to-day very much where Strauss did eighty years ago. What was then revolutionary heresy is now become a very respectable form of professional theology. Only in his old age did Strauss himself realize to what philosophical conclusions his critical method led; and on the historicity question he seems to have made no serious advance at all. Challenged by Ullmann to say whether, on his theory, the Church created the Christ of the Gospels or he the Church, Strauss replied that the alternative was false, and that both things had happened; the Christ being created by the faith of the Church, which faith in turn was created by the person of the historical Jesus. From that gyratory position he never really departed; and that is the position of M. Loisy to-day. If it has taken eighty years to yield only that amount of progress, through a whole library of laborious scholarly literature, there can be no great weight left in the appeal to scholarly authority. The authority of to-day is the heretic of our grandfathers' day. It is for the radical innovator, on the other hand, to learn the lesson which was not duly learned by his predecessors, unless it be that in some cases they were merely silenced by orthodox hostility. While many Freethinkers, probably, had come privately to the view of those intimates of Bolingbroke who are referred to by Voltaire as denying the historicity of Jesus, the two writers who first gave European vogue to the proposition, Dupuis and Volney, staked everything on the astronomical elements of the cult, and on the chief myth-analogies with Pagan religions. Their argument was both sound and important, so far as it went; but for lack of investigation on the Jewish side of the problem, and of the necessary analysis of the Gospels, they failed to make any serious impression on the scholars, especially as so many Freethinking critics, down to Reimarus and Voltaire, treated the historicity of Jesus as certain. [210] And when an anonymous German writer in 1799 published a treatise on Revelation and Mythology in which, according to Strauss, he posited the whole life of Jesus as pre-conceived in Jewish myth and speculation, he made no impression on an age busily and vainly occupied with the so-called "rationalizing" of myths and miracles by reducing them to natural events misunderstood. Later, another--or the same?--anonymous German, also cited by Strauss, in a review article condemned every attempt to find a historical basis for the Gospel myths; but in both cases the anonymity sufficiently told of the general resentment against any such view. And when Strauss himself, the first to handle the problem with an approach to scientific thoroughness, not only adhered to the central assumption of historicity, but argued confidently that the mythical dissolution of so many of the details made no difference to faith, it was natural that interest in his undertaking should slacken. The fact that it had ruined his career would perhaps count for still more. Freedom of academic discussion in Germany has never meant any minimizing of pious malice; and Strauss all his life long had to bear his cross for the offence of a new advance in historical science. Dr. Albert Schweitzer, who for almost the first time, after Schmiedel, has brought the note of amenity into the argument for historicity as against the negative, remarks that the greatest Lives of Jesus are those which have been written with hate--to wit, those by Reimarus and Strauss. Reimarus, whom Dr. Schweitzer genially overrates, was indeed given to invective against mythological personages, from Moses downward; but "hate" is a strange term to apply to the calm and judicial procedure of Strauss. As well ascribe to hate the rise of Unitarianism. If hate is to be the term for Strauss's mood, what epithet is left for that of his opponents, who, as Dr. Schweitzer relates, circled him with unsleeping malignity to the end, and sought to ostracize the clerical friend of his youth who delivered an address over his grave? It is only historic religion that can foster and sustain such hates as these. It is true that Bruno Bauer, who so suddenly advanced upon Strauss's position, detecting new elements of mythic construction in the Gospels, and arriving ten years later at the definite doctrine of non-historicity, exhibited a play of storm and stress in the earlier part of his inquiry. He reviled at that stage, not the Jesus whose "life" he was investigating, but the theologians who had so confounded confusion. "These outbreaks of bitterness," Dr. Schweitzer admits, "are to be explained by the feeling of repulsion which German apologetic theology inspired in every genuinely honest and thoughtful man by the methods which it adopted in opposing Strauss." [211] Add that the same methods were being employed towards Bauer, and the case is perhaps simplified. With these cases before him, and with the record to write of a hundred and thirty years of admittedly abortive discussion, Dr. Schweitzer could not forgo an exordium in praise of the "German temperament" which had so wonderfully kept the discussion going. Such a record seems a surprising ground for national pride; but it may be granted him that the German temperament will never lack material for self-panegyric, which appears to be the breath of its nostrils. To those, however, for whom science is independent of nationality, the lesson has a somewhat different aspect. What has been lacking is scientific thoroughness. Bruno Bauer's flaws of mood and method were such that his more radical penetration of the problem at certain points made no such impression as did the orderly and temperate procedure of Strauss. "One might suppose that between the work of Strauss and that of Bauer there lay not five but fifty years--the critical work of a whole generation." [212] "Bauer's 'Criticism of the Gospel History' is worth a good dozen Lives of Jesus, because his work, as we are only now coming to recognize, after half a century, is the ablest and most complete collection of the difficulties of the Life of Jesus which is anywhere to be found." [213] But his mood and his method not only made him fail to establish his mythical theory; they meant miscarriage in the very conception of it--a mere substitution of a subjective notion for the method of inductive science. Bauer's final way of putting the theory merely discredits it. He decides that the whole myth was the creation of one evangelist, whereby he shows that he is no mythologist. He never reached the true myth basis. After all, "the German temperament" seems to fall short, at some rather essential points, of the faculty for solving great historical problems; one feels it somewhat acutely when Dr. Schweitzer comes to the undertaking himself. The great merit of Schweitzer's book is its manly and genial tone; though, as this is freely bestowed on the most extreme heretics, he may make another impression when he speaks of the "inconceivable stupidity" of the average Life of Jesus in the treatment of the connection of events. What his book mainly demonstrates is the laborious futility of the age-long discussion maintained by the professional theologians of Germany. When he comes to the latest developments, which are but extensions of the common-sense analyses of Bruno Bauer, he is full of admiration for criticisms which, I can testify, have occurred spontaneously to unpretending Freethinkers with no claim to special training. Some of the most important myth elements in the Gospels--for instance, the story of Barabbas--he does not even glance at, having apparently, like the other specialists, never realized that there is anything there to explain. By Dr. Schweitzer's account, the great mass of the German specialists for a century past have been unable to see contradictions and incompatibilities in the Gospels which leap to the eyes; to himself, Wrede's statement of some of them appears to be a revelation. It would seem that the simple old "Secularist" method of exposing these had covered ground which for the specialists was wholly unexplored. Thus it comes about that the myth theory, addressed to men who had never realized the character of their own perpetually conned documents, fared as it might have done if addressed to the Council of Trent. Of no myth-theories save those of Bruno Bauer and Pastor Kalthoff, which alike ignore the clues of mythology and anthropology, does Dr. Schweitzer seem to have any knowledge. He is capable of giving a senseless account of a book he has not seen, and, it may be, of one he has seen. Of Christianity and Mythology he alleges that "according to that work the Christ-myth is merely a form of the Krishna-myth"--a proposition which tells only of absolute ignorance concerning the book. If, as I suspect, he has no better ground for his account of Hennell's Inquiry as "nothing more than Venturini's 'Non-miraculous History of the Great Prophet of Nazareth' tricked out with a fantastic paraphernalia of learning," [214] it speaks ill for the regular functioning of his critical conscience. But where he has to deal with concrete arguments he is straightforward, alert, and readily appreciative; and his survey as a whole leads up to a complete dismissal of the whole work of the liberal school so-called. In his summing-up, the only critical choice left is between "complete scepticism" and "complete eschatology"--that is, between the avowal that there is no evidence for a historical Jesus, and the conviction that the historical Jesus was purely and simply a Jewish "hero and dreamer," whose entire doctrine was the advent of the kingdom of God, the ending of the old order, in which consummation he secretly believed he was to figure as the Messiah. The bare statement of the proposition hardly reveals its significance. Dr. Schweitzer's "dreamer" is not M. Loisy's, who is conceived as having had something to teach to his disciples, and even to the multitude. Dr. Schweitzer's Jesus has, indeed, disciples for no assignable reason, but he is expressly declared to be no Teacher, even as Wrede's Teacher is expressly declared to be no Messiah. The joint result is to leave the ground tolerably clear for the scientific myth theory, of which Dr. Schweitzer has not come within sight, having omitted to inquire about it. As he sums up:-- Supposing that only a half--nay, only a third--of the critical arguments which are common to Wrede and the "Sketch of the Life of Jesus" [by Schweitzer] are sound, then the modern historical view of the history is wholly ruined. The reader of Wrede's book cannot help feeling that here no quarter is given; and any one who goes carefully through the present writer's "Sketch" must come to see that between the modern historical and the eschatological life of Jesus no compromise is possible. [215] Let us see, then, to what the eschatological theory amounts, considered as a residual historical explanation. CHAPTER XX THE GROUND CLEARED FOR THE MYTH THEORY The issue as between Schweitzer and Wrede comes to this. Wrede sees that the Messiahship is a creation following upon the belief in the resurrection, and only uncritically deducible from the documents. For him, Jesus is a Teacher who was made into a Messiah by his followers after his death, the Gospels being manipulated to conceal the fact that he made no Messianic claims. Schweitzer sees that the Teaching Jesus is a documentary construction; and that, unless the Crucified One had some Messianic idea, the Gospel story as a whole crumbles to nothing. And he asks:-- But how did the appearance of the risen Jesus suddenly become for them [the disciples] a proof of His Messiahship and the basis of their eschatology? That Wrede fails to explain, and so makes this "event" an "historical" miracle which in reality is harder to believe than the supernatural event. [216] So be it: Wrede's thesis is here, after all, part of the common content of the "liberal" ideal, which cannot stand. But how does his critic make good the converse of a would-be Messiah who was no Teacher, but yet had disciples, and was finally crucified for making a secret Messianic claim? The answer is too naïve to be guessed. Accepting, in defiance of every suggestion of common sense, the story of the triumphal entry into Jerusalem, Dr. Schweitzer decides that "the episode was Messianic for Jesus, but not Messianic for the people." With no authority save the documents which at this point he radically and recklessly alters, he decides that the multitude had hailed Jesus "as the Prophet, as Elias," whatever the texts may say; and Jesus, feeling he was the Messiah, "played with his Messianic self-consciousness" all the while. Why, then, was he put to death? Simply because Judas betrayed his secret to the priests! Dr. Schweitzer can see well enough the futility of the betrayal story as it stands, inasmuch as Judas is paid to do what was not required--identifying a well-known public figure. But rather than admit myth here he will invent a better story for himself, and we get this: Jesus had dropped Messianic hints to his disciples, and Judas sold the information. And all the while none of the other disciples knew this, though at the trial the priests went among the people and induced them "not to agree to the Procurator's proposal. How? By telling them why He was condemned; by revealing to them the Messianic secret. That makes him at once from a prophet worthy of honour into a deluded enthusiast and blasphemer." [217] "In the name of the Prophet, figs!" Dr. Schweitzer has, he believes, saved the character of "the mob of Jerusalem" at last; and by what a device! By assuming that to claim to be the Messiah was to blaspheme, which it certainly was not; [218] and by assuming that the mob who had (on Schweitzer's view) acclaimed an Elias would be struck dumb with horror on being told that Elias claimed to be the Messiah. The secret of this psychosis is in Dr. Schweitzer's sole possession, as is the explanation of the total absence of his statement from all the literature produced by the generation which, on his assumption, knew all about the case. And this is what is left after a survey of the German exegesis "from Reimarus to Wrede." It is to be feared that neither the scholars nor the laity will accept either of Dr. Schweitzer's alternatives, and that the nature of his own prestidigitatory solution may tend somewhat to weaken the effect of his indictment of the kaleidoscopic process which has hitherto passed as a solution among the experts. Dr. Schweitzer seems to realize all absurdities save his own. None the less, he has done a critical service in arguing down all the rest, though even in his final verdict he exhibits symptoms of the "sacred disease," the theologian's malady of self-contradiction:-- The Jesus of Nazareth who came forward publicly as the Messiah, who preached the ethic of the Kingdom of God, who founded the Kingdom of Heaven upon earth, and died to give His work its final consecration, never had any existence. He is a figure designed by rationalism, [219] endowed with life by liberalism, and clothed by modern theology in an historical garb.... He passes by our time and returns to his own.... The historical foundation of Christianity as built up by rationalistic, by liberal, and by modern theology no longer exists; but that does not mean that Christianity has lost its historical foundation.... Jesus means something to our world because a mighty spiritual force streams forth from Him and flows through our time also [220].... "Loves me, loves me not," as the little girls say in counting the flower petals. We seem entitled to suggest in the interests of simple science, as distinguished from Germanic Kultur, that temperament might perhaps usefully be left out of the debate; and that the question of what Jesus stands for may be left over till we have settled whether the film presented to us by Dr. Schweitzer can stand between us and a scientific criticism which assents to all of his verdict save the reservation in favour of his own thesis. Meantime, let us not seem to suggest that the English handling of the historical problem during the nineteenth century has been any more scientific than the German. Hennell's treatment of it was but a simplification of Strauss's; and Thomas Scott's Life of Jesus was but an honest attempt to solidify Kenan. In the early part of the nineteenth century little was achieved beyond the indispensable weakening of the reign of superstition by critical propaganda. In early Victorian England, where Freethought had been left to unprofessional freelances, still liable to brutal prosecution, an anonymous attempt was made to carry the matter further in a curious book entitled "The Existence of Christ Disproved by Irresistible Evidence, in a Series of Letters by a German Jew." It bears no date, but seems to have been published between 1841 and 1849, appearing serially in thirty penny weekly numbers, printed in Birmingham, and published in London by Hetherington. As Hetherington, who died in 1849, was imprisoned in 1840 for the "blasphemous libel" of publishing Haslam's Letters to the Clergy, but not earlier or later on any similar charge, he would seem to have been allowed to publish this without molestation. About the author I have no information. He writes English fluently and idiomatically, and had read Strauss in the original. But though he presses against Hennell the argument from the case of Apollos, latterly developed by Professor W. B. Smith with such scholarly skill, the book as a whole has little persuasive power. The author is one of the violent and vehement men who alone, in the day of persecution, were likely to hazard such a thesis; and he does it with an amount of vociferation much in excess of his critical effort or his knowledge. It made, and could make, no impression whatever on the educated world; and I never met any Freethinker who had seen or heard of it. It is in another spirit, and in the light of a far greater accumulation of evidence than was available in the first half of the last century, that the mythical theory has been restated in our day. In particular it proceeds upon a treasury of anthropological lore which was lacking to Bruno Bauer, as it was to Ghillany, who was so much better fitted than Bauer to profit by such light. As knowledge of the past gradually arranges itself into science, and the malice of religious resistance recedes from point to point before the sapping process of culture, the temper of the whole debate undergoes a transmutation. After a generation in which a Lyell could only in privacy avow his views as to the antiquity of man, came that in which Tylor, without polemic, could establish an anthropological method that was to mean the reduction of all religious phenomena, on a new line, to the status of natural phenomena. And even the malice of the bigoted faithful, which will subsist while the faith endures, falls into its place as one of these, equally with the malice of the conventional theorists who meet the exposure of their untenable positions with aspersion in defect of argument. But the fact that a recent German exegete has been found capable of facing the problem in a spirit of scientific candour and good temper, and with something of the old-time detachment which made Rosenkranz marvel at Carlyle's tone towards Diderot, may be a promise of a more general resort to civilized controversial methods. In any case, the fact that a trained New Testament critic, undertaking to establish the historicity of Jesus, has affirmed the scientific failure of all the preceding attempts, and offered a historic residuum which few will think worth an hour's consideration, seems a sufficient demonstration that the mythical theory is the real battleground of the future. In that connection it is interesting to note that Sir J. G. Frazer, who has so warmly contended that, as history cannot be explained "without the influence of great men," we must accept the historicity of Jesus, [221] latterly propounds a tentative theory of a historic original for Osiris, whom he supposes to have been perhaps evolved from the idealized personality of an ancient King Khent, buried at Abydos. [222] It is a mere suggestion, and it at once evokes the reminder that, on the theorist's own general principles, King Khent may be regarded as having been theocratically identified with the already existing God. However that may be, the hypothesis does nothing to save Sir James's irrelevant plea about the operation of "great men" and "extraordinary minds" in the founding of all religions, for he does not suggest that King Khent's career in any way resembled the myth of Osiris, or that he first taught the things Osiris is said to have taught. So that, in the case of Osiris as of Jesus, the required great men and extraordinary minds may still, in the terms of the claim, be inserted at any point rather than in the personage named or suggested as Founder. [223] If we agree to call the compiler of the Sermon on the Mount and the parables of the Kingdom and the Prodigal Son and the Good Samaritan great men and extraordinary minds, Sir James's very simple argument is turned. And we should still be left asking who were the historic founders of the cults of Zeus and Brahma and Attis and Adonis, Dionysos and Herakles and Krishna and Aphrodite and Artemis. On the other hand, as it happens, that very suggestion as to King Khent points afresh to the myth theory as the solution of the Gospel problem. Nothing emerges oftener in Sir James's great survey than the ancient connection between kingship and liability to sacrifice. It will not avail to close off that connection by claiming King Khent as a potentate of an age after that of sacrificed kings. The sacrificial past would still have to be taken into account in explaining the deification of King Khent. And it is just an analogous process that is suggested in our theory of the Jesus myth. A long series of slain Jesuses, ritually put to death at an annual sacrament "for the sins of many," is the ultimate anthropological ground given for the special cultus out of which grew the mythical biography of the Gospels. And if Sir James remains satisfied with his charge that in putting such a theory we "flatter the vanity of the vulgar," we may be permitted to ask him which line of propaganda is likeliest to appeal to the multitude. Let him, in his turn, be on his guard against the vulgarity which seeks support in science from popular prejudice. As to his pronouncement that the theory which he so inexpensively attacks "will find no favour with the philosophic historian," one must just point out that it does not lie with him to draw up the conclusions of philosophic history outside of his own great department, or even, for that matter, in that department. His own historical generalizations, when they seek to pass from the strictly anthropological to the sociological status, will often really not bear the slightest critical analysis. They express at times an entire failure to realize the nature of a historical process, offering as they do mere chance speculations which patently conflict with the whole mass of the evidence he has himself collected. It is not an isolated opinion that by such abortive attempts at "philosophic history" he has tended to lessen the usefulness even of that collection, for which all students are his grateful debtors. In short, he would do well to turn from his ill-timed incursion into dogmatics to the relevant problem which he has forced upon so many of his readers--namely, What has become of his mythological maxim that the ritual precedes the myth? While the professed mythologist rejects the application of the myth theory to the current religion in the name of "philosophic history," students ostensibly more concerned about religion reject the historicity theory in the name of their religious ideals, finding in the myth theory the vindication of these. Thus Professor Drews has from the first connected the argument of his Das Christusmythe with a claim to regenerate religion by freeing it from anthropomorphism; and I have seen other theistic pronouncements to the same effect; to say nothing of the declarations of scholarly Churchmen that for them the Jesus of the Gospels is a God or nothing, and that for them the historicity argument has no religious value. Such positions seem to me, equation for equation, very sufficiently to balance the bias of Sir James Frazer. For my own part, I am content to maintain the theory in the name of science, and it is by scientific tests that I invite the reader to try it. CONCLUSION Enough has now been said to make it clear to the open-minded reader that the myth-theory is no wanton challenge to belief in a clear and credible historical narrative. It is not the advocates of the myth-theory who have raised the issue. The trouble began with the attempts of the believers to solve their own difficulties. Before the rise of criticism so-called we find them hating and burning each other in their quarrels over the meaning of their central sacrament. As soon as criticism began to work on the problem of the miracles and the contradictions in the narratives of these, they set themselves to frame "Harmonies" of the Gospels which only brought into clearer relief their discordance. After the spread of scientific views had shaken the belief in miracles, they set themselves, still as believers, to frame explanatory Lives of Jesus in which miracles were dissolved into hallucinations or natural episodes misunderstood; and, as before, no two explanations coincided. A "consensus of scholars" has never existed. It was after a whole generation of German scholars had laboured to extract a historical Jesus from the Gospel mosaic that Strauss produced his powerful and sustained argument to show that most of the separate episodes which they had arbitrarily striven to reduce to history were but operations of the mythopoeic faculty, proceeding upon the mass of Jewish prophecy and legend under the impulse of the Messianic idea. Strauss was no wanton caviller, but a great critic, forced to his work by the failure of a multitude of Gelehrten vom Fach to extract a credible result from what they admitted to be, as it stood, a history in large part incredible. Strauss, in turn, believing at once in a residual historical Jesus and in the perfect sufficiency of a mere ideal personage as a standard for men's lives and a basis for their churches, left but a new enigma to his successors. He had stripped the nominal Founder of a mass of mythic accretions, but, attempting no new portrait, left him undeniably more shadowy than before. Later "liberal" criticism, tacitly accepting Strauss's negations, set itself anew to extract from the Gospels, by a process of more or less conscientious documentary analysis, the "real" Jesus whom the critics and he agreed to have existed. Renan undertook to do as much in his famous "romance"; and German critics, who so characterized his work, produced for their part only much duller romances, devoid of Renan's wistful artistic charm. And, as before, every "biographer" in turn demurred to the results of the others. It is the result of the utter inadequacy of all these attempts to solve the historical problem, and of the ever-growing sense of the inadequacy of a mere legendary construction to form a code for human life and a basis for a cosmic philosophy, that independent inquirers in various countries have set about finding out the real historical process of the rise of Christianity, dismissing the worn-out convention. Small-minded conservatives at once exclaim, and will doubtless go on saying, that those who thus explain away the "historical Jesus," are moved by their antipathy to Christianity, and to theism in general. The assertion is childishly false. One of the leading exponents of the myth-theory gives his theism--or pantheism--as the primary inspiration of his work. The present writer, as he has more than once explained, began by way of writing a sociological history of the rise of Christianity on the foundation of a historical Jesus with twelve disciples--this long after coming to a completely naturalistic view of religion, which excluded theism. From such a point of view there was no à priori objection whatever to a historical Jesus. At one time he sketched a hypothesis of several successive Jesuses. The intangibility of any historical Jesus was the conclusion slowly forced by a long attempt to clear the historical starting-point, supposed to be irreducible. Since that discovery was reached, the discrediting of the conventional view has been carried to the verge of nihilism by men who still posit a historical Jesus, but critically eliminate nearly every accepted detail, leaving only a choice between two shadowy and elusive historical concepts, even less tenable than those they reject. In the works of Schweitzer and Wrede, there is literally more direct and detailed destruction of Gospel-myth than had been attempted by almost any advocate of the myth-theory who had preceded them; though, as we have seen, it is not difficult to carry the process further. In the name of the historicity claim, they have gone on eliminating one by one myth elements where the myth-theorists had been content to recognize myth in mass. He who would re-establish the historical Jesus has to combat, first and foremost, the latest scientific champions of the belief in the historicity. Those English critics who, like Dr. Conybeare, have declaimed so loudly of a consensus of critics and of historical common-sense on the side of a "historical Christ," are simply fulminating from the standpoint of the German "liberalism" of thirty years ago. Nine-tenths of what they violently affirm has been definitely and destructively rejected by the latest German representatives of the critical class, in the very name of the defence of the historicity of Jesus. Orthodox Germans, on the other hand, have been pointing out that the "liberal" view is no longer "modern," the really modern criticism having shown that the Gospel-figure is a God-figure or nothing. Vainly they hope to reinforce orthodoxy by the operations of a strict critical method. [224] Our English "liberal-conservatives," all the while, are fighting with obsolete (German) weapons, and in total ignorance of the real course of the campaign in recent years. In such circumstances, those of us who did our thinking for ourselves, without waiting for new German leads, have perhaps some right to appeal anew to readers to do the same. There is no race quarrel involved. But perhaps those students in the English-speaking countries who in the past have been wont to follow the German leads of the generation before their own, may now realize that they were unduly diffident, and proceed to make that use of their own faculties which Germans were always making from time to time. NOTES [1] See Christianity and Mythology, 2nd ed. p. 179, note. [2] That is, even supposing the Annals to be genuine. Professor W. B. Smith speaks of a contention "of late" that they are forged by Poggio Bracciolini, but refers only to the work of Ross, 1878. The thesis has been far more efficiently maintained in a series of works by Hochart (1890, etc.), which are worth Professor Smith's attention. [3] See the collection of illustrations in Mr. Joseph McCabe's Sources of the Morality of the Gospels (R. P. A., 1914), and his excellent chapter on "The Parables of the Gospel and the Talmud." [4] The Testaments of the Twelve Patriarchs, ed. by R. H. Charles, 1908, pp. lxxx, 97, 122, 213, 214. [5] Id. pp. lxxxi, 213. [6] Id. pp. xciii-xciv. [7] Id. Test. Iss. v, 2; Dan. v, 3; Iss. vii, 6. [8] Id. p. xcv. [9] Id. p. 210 sq. [10] Bain, J. S. Mill, p. 139. [11] Letter to W. S. Lilly, cited in his Claims of Christianity, 1894, pp. 30-31. [12] Das Christenthum ... der drei ersten Jahrhunderte, 1853, pp. 35-36. (Eng. trans, i, 38.) [13] Prof. Flint in "St. Giles Lectures" on "The Faiths of the World," 1882, p. 419. [14] Jésus et la tradition évangélique, 1910, p. 45. [15] It should be explained that in using, for convenience sake, the traditional ascriptions of the four Gospels, I do not for a moment admit that these hold good of the Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John of the tradition. In not one case is that tradition historically valid. [16] The Rev. A. Wright (N. T. Problems, 1898, p. 15) pronounces it "completely unchronological." Sanday acquiesces (id., p. 177). [17] Such details, imposed on an otherwise empty narrative, suggest a pictorial basis, as does the account of the Baptist. Strauss cites the Hebrew myth-precedent of the calling of Elisha from the plough by Elijah. [18] Einleitung in die drei ersten Evangelien, 1905, p. 51. [19] Id. p. 47. [20] Id. p. 51. [21] Id. p. 52. [22] Note the identity of terms, euergeton in Acts (x, 38), euergetesas in Diodorus. [23] Christianity and Mythology, 2nd ed. p. 441 sq.; Pagan Christs, 2nd ed. pp. 229-236. A notably effective criticism is passed on the thesis in Prof. W. B. Smith's Ecce Deus, p. 177 sq. Mr. Sinclair, of course, does not dream of meeting such replies. [24] What else is signified by Acts iii, 18; xvii, 3? [25] Dr. W. B. Smith sees in the story a mere symbolizing of the rejection of Jesus by the Jews. This may very well be the case. [26] Dr. Flinders Petrie even infers a "late" reference to the Virgin-Birth. The Growth of the Gospels, 1910, p. 86. This Loisy rejects. [27] See the useful work of Mr. A. J. Jolley, The Synoptic Problem for English Readers, 1893. [28] Yet B. Weiss had contended (Manual, Eng. tr. ii, 224) that Mark ii, 24 ff., 28, "must be taken from a larger collection of sayings in which the utterances of Jesus respecting the keeping of the Sabbath were put together (Matt. xii, 2-8)." [29] Cp. Dr. R. H. Charles, The Book of Jubilees, 1902, p. xiv. [30] Work cited, p. 94. [31] Manual of Introd. to the N. T., Eng. tr. 1888, ii, 261. [32] Einleitung, p. 51. [33] Id. p. 49. [34] Some N. T. Problems, 1898, p. 176. [35] I have wasted a good deal of time in reading and in confuting the Baconians, but only in one or two of them have I met with any etymologies. Their doctrine had no such origin, and in no way rests on etymologies. Not once have I seen in their books an appeal to anti-theological bias, and hardly ever an emendation, though there are plenty of "forced parallels." Nor are etymologies primary elements in any form of the myth theory. Mr. Sinclair seems to "unpack his mouth with words" in terms of a Shakespearean formula. [36] Eng. trans. by Prof. D. M. Kay, 1902. [37] Wellhausen notably does--Einleitung in die drei ersten Evangelien, 1905, pp. 39-41. Dr. R. H. Charles, who in his masterly introduction to the Assumption of Moses indicates so many blunders of German scholars, may be reckoned quite able to criticize Dalman in his turn. [38] Cp. Schechter, Some Aspects of Rabbinic Theology, 1909, pp. 65-66. [39] Rev. A. Wright, Some New Testament Problems, p. 212. [40] Blass, Philology of the Gospels, 1898, p. 35. [41] Die Entstehung und der Charakter unserer Evangelien, 1907, p. 9. [42] With the customary bad faith of the orthodox apologist, Dr. Thorburn represents as a sudden change of thesis the proposition that "the Christian narrative is merely an ethical adaptation of the Greek story," because that proposition follows on the remark that the Christian myth "might fairly be regarded" [as it actually has been] "as a later sophistication" of the Buddhist myth. On this "might" there had actually followed, in the text quoted, the statement: "There are fairly decisive reasons, however, for concluding that the Christian story was evolved on another line." This sentence Dr. Thorburn conceals from his readers. There had been no change of thesis whatever. [43] Rev. Dr. T. J. Thorburn, Jesus the Christ: Historical or Mythical?, p. 231. [44] Dr. Thorburn appears to be wholly unaware of this fact of Jewish theology. See Dr. Schechter's Some Aspects of Rabbinic Theology, 1909, ch. xv; Kalisch, Comm. on Leviticus, ii, 304. [45] The Nemesis of this uncritical method appears in its development at the hands of Dr. Conybeare: "That Jesus was a successful exorcist we need not doubt, nor that he worked innumerable faith cures" (Myth, Magic, and Morals, 2nd. ed., p. 142). Such a writer "need not doubt" anything he wants to believe. In particular he "need not doubt" that the disciples were "successful exorcists" also. [46] Introd. to the N. T., 3rd. ed., i, 4. [47] Work cited, p. 7. [48] Put in the Neue Kirchliche Zeitschrift, 1896, p. 964 sq.; and Philology of the Gospels, 1898, pp. 41-43. Professor Blass has worked this argument diligently. See his Die Entstehung und der Charakter unserer Evangelien, 1907, p. 24. [49] Villari, Life of Savonarola, Eng. trans. 1-vol. ed. p. 185. [50] Herbert Lucas, S.J., Fra Girolamo Savonarola, 2nd ed. 1906, p. 116. Father Lucas does not deny that such a sermon might possibly have been preached late in 1493. Cp. p. 118. [51] Life of Savonarola, as cited, p. 186. [52] Villari, p. 214. [53] See the investigation of Father Lucas, pp. 114-18. [54] I had written this, and the confutation of Villari, before reading the work of Father Lucas. [55] As cited, p. 189. Father Lucas comments more mildly on the misstatement; but it is really a grave departure from historical truth. [56] Cp. Lucas, p. 117 note. [57] Lucas, p. 129 note. [58] This, again, he might well expect, as he avows that he had correspondents in Germany who applauded his attitude towards the Papacy. Villari, pp. 439, 519, 609. But Maximilian was invited by Sforza in the name of the Papal League, by way of forestalling Charles. Id. p. 458. [59] Villari, pp. 411-13. Cp. Perrens's Jérome Savonarole, 1854, ii, 88 sq., 95 sq.; Lucas, p. 201. [60] Manifesto A tutti li Christiani; Lucas, p. 236. [61] Id. p. 256. [62] Id. p. 278. [63] Lucas, p. 70. [64] Nor are we here concerned with the question of Savonarola's "sincerity." On that head it may be noted that Perrens the Rationalist and Lucas the sympathetic and moderate Catholic are very much at one. [65] Lucas, p. 69 note. Compare the references of Lucas and those of Villari (p. 317) for researches on the subject. [66] Cp. Perrens, as cited, ii, 94. [67] 1 Mac. i, 47, 54, 59. [68] Refs. in De Potter, L'Esprit de l'Église, 1821, iv, 95-98. [69] Philology of the Gospels, p. 43. [70] Growth of the Gospels, p. 45. [71] Professed prophecies, that is, not political calculations. [72] The systematic deposition of ordure in the drawers of commodes in 1870, in beds and rooms and on piles of food in 1914, is a historical fact. As to the sack of Rome, Cantù's account is: "Delle bolle papali stabbiano i cavalli" (Istoria degli Italiani, ed. 1876, ix, 372). [73] History of Sacrilege, 1698, p. 113. [74] Id. p. 122. [75] Zeller, L'histoire de France racontée par les contemporains, vol. 21, p. 102. [76] Id. vol. 22, p. 17. [77] Sismondi-Toccagni, Storia delle repub. ital., 1852, iv, 123. [78] Burckhardt, Renaissance in Italy, Eng. tr., ed. 1892, p. 23. [79] Villari, pp. 463, 532, 554-55. [80] "Slay all! God will know his own!" [81] Rev. W. Denton, England in the Fifteenth Century, 1888, pp. 81-82. [82] Barante, Histoire des ducs de Bourgogne, ed. 7ième, iii, 234. [83] Id. ib. p. 248. [84] Id. ib. p. 416. [85] This detail, from Niketas, is also given by Gibbon, ch. lx, near end, and by Michaud, Hist. des Croisades, iii (1817), 154-55. Mills omits it. Michaud, like Cantù, stresses the point of ordure. So does Fleury, Hist. éccles., xvi, 149. [86] Rev. Sir G. W. Cox, The Crusades, 8th ed. p. 157. [87] Perrens, ii, 95. [88] Memoirs of Philip de Commines, Bohn trans. i, 158. [89] Hall's Chronicle, Hen. VIII, ed. 1550, fol. 112. [90] Burckhardt, Renaissance in Italy, Eng. tr. ed. 1892, p. 29. [91] Perrens, Hist. de Florence, 1434-1531, i, 385. [92] Guicciardini, lib. x, c. 4. [93] Id. xvii, 3. [94] Though in reporting the sack of Rome he makes the Germans behave the more brutally as regards the cardinals. [95] Philology of the Gospels, p. 41. [96] As cited, p. 46. [97] Work cited, p. 34. [98] Id. p. 40. [99] Id. p. 38. [100] Histor. Introd. to the N. T., 4th ed. 1889, p. 111. [101] Nöldeke, Sketches from Eastern History, 1892, p. 28. [102] The Odes and Psalms of Solomon, ed. Rendel Harris, 1909, pp. 74, 118. [103] Work cited, p. 49. [104] Bousset (The Anti-Christ Legend, Eng. tr. p. 23) "assumes, with many recent expositors, that the distinctly apocalyptic part of Matt. xxiv and Mark xiii is a fragment of foreign origin introduced amid genuine utterances of the Lord. It is also evident that, compared with that of Mark, the text of Matthew is the original." Here we have the old strategy of compromise. [105] The assertion of Dr. Conybeare (Myth, Magic, and Morals, p. 46), that the destruction of the temple was "an event which any clear-sighted observer of the growing hostility between Jew and Roman must have foreseen," is characteristic of that writer's way of interpreting documents. A second reading may perhaps yield him another impression. Forty years of non-fulfilment is a precious proof of the "must." [106] Muir and Weir, Life of Mohammed, ed. 1912, p. xlii. [107] Muir and Weir, as cited, p. xxvi. [108] Id. p. xxviii. Contrast the pronouncements of Palmer, Kuenen, and Nicholson, cited in the author's History of Freethought, 3rd ed. i, 250. [109] Josephus, Antiq. xx, 5, § 1; Bel. Jud., vii, 11; Dio Cassius, lxix; Orosius, vii, 12. [110] E.g. the orthodox Ewald, Geschichte Christus' und seiner Zeit, 3te Ausg. p. 31 note. [111] "Stupidity" is ascribed to him by Blass (Entstehung, p. 8), who on his own principles has no right whatever to reject such a "tradition." [112] Compare with this avowal of an orthodox scholar, Mill's assumption of the total absence of genius in Palestine apart from Jesus. [113] See the collection of opinions in Dr. Charles Taylor's The Oxyrhynchus Logia and the Apocryphal Gospels, 1899, pp. 15-19, 23, 24, 25, 27, 39, 42, etc. [114] These logia, it should be noted, are always ascribed to "Ies." The full name Iesous is never given, and there is no cognomen. [115] "Many," says Blass (Entstehung, p. 11), may mean 3, 4, 5, or even more. [116] Codices A and C preface this with "And turning to his disciples, he said." [117] Strauss speaks of it as having been "firmly established." Das Leben Jesu, Einl. § 9, end. [118] Some New Testament Problems, 1898, pp. 197-98. [119] Id. p. 14. [120] Id. p. 15. [121] Elsewhere (p. 200) Mr. Wright speaks of the traditions as "circulated in an oral form from very early times"; but he does not appear to mean this in the natural sense. [122] Id. p. 102. [123] Id. p. 213. [124] Would it? For Loisy it is stamped with Jewish exclusiveness. The "dog" merely gets a compassionate crumb. [125] Id. p. 209. [126] Id. p. 215. [127] See Christianity and Mythology, 2nd ed. p. 388. [128] The "Arise, let us go hence," at the end of ch. 14, is another interpolation which has no meaning in the context. [129] Work cited, p. 209. [130] Id. p. 178. [131] Id. p. 175. [132] Id. p. 177. [133] Id. p. 176. [134] Id. p. 191. [135] Id. p. 186. [136] Id. p. 187. [137] Id. pp. 222, 223. [138] Id. p. 123. [139] Jésus et la tradition évangélique, 1910, pp. 9, 12, 36, 40, 56, 57, 99, 102, 105, 113. [140] So, for instance, Wernle: "On the basis of these oldest sources we can write no biography, no so-called Life of Jesus" (Die Quellen des Lebens Jesu, 1905, p. 82). [141] Work cited, p. 56 sq. [142] Les Évangiles, i, 663 sq. [143] Encyc. Bib. as cited, col. 1,872. [144] It should be remembered that the Gospels do not specify Nazareth, but speak simply of "his own country" (patris). Professor Burkitt, recognizing the mass of difficulties in regard to Nazareth, suggests that that name is a "literary error," and that the patris of Jesus was Chorazin (Proc. of Brit. Acad. vol. v, 1912, pp. 17-18). [145] See above, p. 147, note, as to the theory of Prof. Burkitt, that Jesus was born at Chorazin. On that view, the unbelieving birthplace was denounced. [146] Strauss, in pointing to this detail in Jewish Messianism (Das Leben Jesu, Abschn. III, Kap. i, § 112) abstained from stressing it on the score that there are no certain traces of it before the Babylonian Gemara, the compilation of which took place in the Christian era, and the book Sohar, of which the age is doubtful. Principal Drummond (The Jewish Messiah, 1877, p. 357) further agreed, with Gfrörer, that the doctrine of a Messiah Ben-Joseph is extremely unlikely to have been pre-Christian. The obvious answer is that it is overwhelmingly unlikely to have been post-Christian! But that thesis is apparently not now maintained even by orthodox scholars. Bousset, who in his confused way suggests that the notion of a suffering and dying Messiah "would seem to have been suggested by disputations with the Christians" (The Anti-Christ Legend, 1896, p. 103), avows immediately that Wünsche traces "a very distinct application of Zechariah xii, 10, to the Messiah Ben Joseph" in the Jerusalem Talmud; and goes on to suggest that the notions of the "two witnesses" and the two Messiahs "may rest upon a common source, which, however, is still to be sought further back than Jewish tradition." [147] Against Celsus, vi, 36, end. [148] Protevang., ix, 1; Pseud. Matt., x, 1; xxxvii, 1 sq.; Hist. of Joseph the Carpenter; Thomas, 1st. Gr. form, xiii, 1 sq.; 2nd Gr. form, xi, 1 sq.; Lat. xi, 2 sq.; Arabic Gosp. of the Infancy, xxxviii, xxxix. [149] Karppe, Essais de critique et d'histoire de philosophie, 1902, pp. 51-52. [150] Irenæus, Ag. Heresies, i, 26; Hippolytus, Ref. of all Heresies, vii, 21. See Baur, Das Christenthum, p. 174. (Eng. trans. i, 199.) The fact that Cerinthus is the earliest known Christian Gnostic, being traditionally associated with the Apostle John (Euseb. Hist. Eccl. iii, 28) goes far to support Dr. Karppe's view that Gnosticism entered Christianity from the Jewish side. [151] Cp. Apoc. of Baruch, xxix, 3; 4 Esdras, vii, 28; xiii, 32; John, vii, 27; Justin, Dial. cum Tryph., 8; and Charles's note on Apoc. of Baruch, as cited, giving these and other references. See also Schodde's ed. of the Book of Enoch, pp. 47, 57; and the Rev. W. J. Deane's Pseudepigrapha, 1891, p. 17. [152] Les évangiles synoptiques, 1907-8, ii, 697. [153] The varying designations, certainly, point to repeated additions to the text. But the question arises whether the Maria he Iose or Maria Iose of Mk. xv, 47, may have been meant to specify "Mary the wife of Joseph." [154] Entstehung, p. 22. Of course Harnack's method is really only a development of Baur's. [155] Les évangiles synoptiques, ii, 617. [156] Id. p. 618. [157] Jésus et la tradition, p. 92. [158] Les évangiles synoptiques, ii, 562. [159] Id. p. 570. [160] Id. p. 599. [161] Id. p. 610. [162] Jésus et la tradition, p. 102. [163] Babl. Sanhedrin, ap. Lightfoot, cited by Strauss. [164] Compare the other Jewish declarations collected by Brandt, Die evangelische Geschichte, 1893, p. 150 sq. [165] In Luke the high priest is not in the story, and the chief priests and others take as well as try the prisoner. [166] See Christianity and Mythology, 2nd ed. pp. xviii, 2, 122; Pagan Christs, 2nd ed. p. 287, note 4. [167] Les évangiles, ii, 624. [168] Die evangelische Geschichte, 1893, p. 88. [169] Les évangiles, ii, 632. [170] E.g. Dalman, The Words of Jesus, p. 312; Brandt, Die evangelische Geschichte, p. 89; Loisy, Les évangiles, ii, 517, note; 604, note; 633. [171] This is the one of the two stories preferred by the "liberal" school, who dismiss the story of the two asses as a verbal hallucination rather than recognize a zodiacal myth. It makes no final difference. The "ass the foal of an ass," in their exegesis, still means an unbroken colt, an impossible steed for a procession. [172] See Pagan Christs, 2nd ed., and Christianity and Mythology, 2nd ed., per index. [173] Les évangiles, ii, 643. [174] Nicholson, The Gospel According to the Hebrews, 1879, pp. 141-42. [175] Jésus et la tradition, p. 114. [176] Id. pp. 117-18. [177] A propos d'histoire des religions, 1911, pp. 274-281. [178] Id. pp. 296-97. [179] Id. p. 314. [180] Id. p. 280. [181] So Dalman (The Words of Jesus, p. 94 sq.), as well as Loisy. They agree that "kingdom of heaven" was only a more reverent way of saying the same thing. (Jésus et la tradition, p. 128.) [182] Jésus et la tradition, pp. 125-26. [183] Id. p. 105. Cp. p. 168. [184] A propos d'histoire des religions, p. 287. [185] Id. pp. 288-89. [186] Jésus et la tradition, p. 136. [187] Schmiedel pronounces it a "conglomerate." Encyc. Bib. art. Gospels, col. 1,886. [188] See Nicholson, The Gospel according to the Hebrews, 1879, p. 52 sq. [189] Jésus et la tradition, p. 143. [190] Id. ib. and A propos d'histoire des religions, p. 288. [191] Jésus et la tradition, p. 141. [192] Les évangiles synoptiques, ii, 482-83. [193] Id. ii, 357. [194] Id. i, 152. [195] See above, p. 127. [196] A propos d'histoire des religions, p. 290. [197] A propos d'histoire des religions, pp. 291, 304. [198] Dr. G. A. van den Bergh van Eysinga, Radical Views about the New Testament, Eng. tr. 1912, p. 102. [199] Id. pp. 101-2. [200] See Christianity and Mythology, 2nd ed. pp. 341, 357. [201] A propos d'histoire des religions, p. 294. [202] First published in 1886. [203] J. W. Straatman, in Critical Studies on First Corinthians, 1863-65, cited by Mr. Whittaker. [204] W. Seufert, Der Ursprung und die Bedeutung des Apostolates, 1887, p. 46; Sir G. W. Cox, lect. in Religious Systems of the World, 3rd ed. p. 242. [205] A propos d'histoire des religions, p. 295. [206] Id. p. 310. [207] Les évangiles, i, 172, 173. Contrast the case put long ago by Zeller, The Acts of the Apostles, Eng. tr. 1875, i, 129-30. [208] Compare, however, the elaborate essay of Prof. G. A. Deissmann, in his Bible Studies (Eng. tr. 1901), on "Letters and Epistles," p. 48. [209] Short History of Christianity, 2nd ed. p. 4. [210] Wieland was something of a Freethinker; but when Napoleon in the famous interview mooted the problem raised by Dupuis and Volney, Wieland treated it as pure absurdity. He was then an old man. [211] The Quest of the Historical Jesus (Eng. tr. of Von Reimarus zu Wrede), 1910, p. 153. [212] Schweitzer, p. 151. [213] Id. p. 159. [214] Work cited, p. 161. [215] Id. p. 329. [216] Id. p. 343. [217] Id. p. 395. [218] Compare Dalman, The Words of Jesus, p. 313. [219] I.e., the old German "rationalism" so-called, the theological method of compromise with reason. [220] Id. pp. 396-97. [221] Adonis, Attis, Osiris, 3rd ed. (vols. v and vi of 3rd ed. of The Golden Bough) i, 312, note. See the passage discussed in Christianity and Mythology, 2nd ed. p. 281. [222] Adonis, Attis, Osiris, as cited, ii, 19 sq., and pref. to vol. i. [223] Compare Prof. W. B. Smith's criticism of the "great man" theory as put by Von Soden--Ecce Deus, p. 9 sq. [224] See the brochure of Prof. R. H. Grützmacher, Ist das liberale Jesusbild modern? 1907. 
51888	----	generously made available by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.) Transcriber's Note. Apparent typographical errors have been corrected. Italics are indicated by _underscores_. Small capitals have been converted to full capitals. In the list of the publisher's other books, at the end of the work, the first line of each entry sometimes comprises only part of the title and sometimes extends beyond the title. The entire first line has been italicised in the original. In this version only the title has been italicised. THE NEW ESCHATOLOGY. SHOWING THE INDESTRUCTIBILITY OF THE EARTH AND THE WIDE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN THE LETTER AND SPIRIT OF HOLY SCRIPTURE. BY J. G. BROUGHTON PEGG. [Illustration: Behold He Cometh with Clouds; The Word] PHILADELPHIA J. B. LIPPINCOTT & CO. 1872. Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1871, by J. B. LIPPINCOTT & CO., In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. LIPPINCOTT'S PRESS, PHILADELPHIA. NOTE. This little work was published in England several years ago; but has never before been republished in this country. It deals with those texts of Scripture which have generally been supposed to foretell the destruction of the material universe; and shows conclusively that these passages have been entirely misunderstood by commentators; and that, rightly interpreted, they have no reference whatever to the outer realm of matter, but to the inner realm of mind; to the internal condition of the church, the loss or destruction of heavenly charity, and the eclipse of genuine faith, which it was foreseen and foretold would occur at the close of the first Christian Dispensation. It is proper to add, also, that, although the name of Swedenborg nowhere occurs in the book, it is evident that the author was familiar with his teachings, and viewed and treated his subject from the Swedenborgian stand-point. But with the lovers of spiritual truth and the seekers after a Spiritual Christianity, this fact--now that so many earnest inquirers are beginning to read the writings of the Swedish seer--will rather add to than detract from the interest and value of the work. AMERICAN EDITOR. PHILADELPHIA, Oct. 30, 1871. THE NEW ESCHATOLOGY. _For the first heaven and the first earth were passed away; and there was no more sea_.--REV. xxi. 1. While we blame the conduct of the Jews in adhering only to the literal sense of the Scriptures, and by such adherence rejecting their Messiah, we possibly forget that the Christian church has followed precisely the same line of conduct; and that to this we are indebted for the greater part of those absurd dogmas, which have so long exposed the Gospel to the derision of its enemies. Had men properly discriminated between those parts of the Sacred Volume which are _literally_ true, and those which are only _apparently_ so, we should never have heard of the doctrines of transubstantiation and Roman supremacy; nor of many other equally absurd beliefs which the generality of Christians entertain. We should not have seen a fallible and weak mortal exalted as Head over the church of God; we should not have heard of a morsel of bread being changed into the Lord's body; we should not have seen the Divine Nature divided among three separate and distinct Persons; nor should we have heard of the doctrine which we are about to bring under consideration. But do not mistake me. When I assert that the Scriptures in the literal sense sometimes speak only apparent truth, I by no means deny the divine authority of the Sacred Record. The church whose doctrines I advocate, most explicitly declares that the _whole_ of the Scriptures,--every chapter,--every verse,--every word, nay, sometimes every _letter_--is filled with the inbreathed wisdom of God. But when I say that apparent and not _real_ truths are often laid down in the letter of the Word, I affirm what every man who possesses any share of discernment will readily admit. The fact itself is too plain even to require proof. Thus we read that the sun rises, moves, and sets; which is certainly true in _appearance_, but not in reality. Again we are told that the LORD repents,--that He is weary, and that He turns away His face from man; which, though correct as regards appearance, has no foundation in literal fact; for though the Sun of Righteousness is said to rise upon the soul, and to set when the mind is given up to evil, yet it is here as in the case of the _material_ sun. In God "there is no variableness nor shadow of turning;"--"He fainteth not, neither is _weary_;"--"He is not a man that He should lie, nor the son of man that He should repent;" but as the earth, by turning to or from the sun, causes the appearance of motion in that body; so the mind of man, by turning to the Lord, or by departing from Him, causes an appearance of change in God; yet it is not He that changes, but the mind itself. And we may go still further. There are numerous passages in the Word of God, which in the literal sense only, do not convey even _apparent_ truth. Among others the following, "Thou ridest through them with thine horses." "He rode upon a cherub and did fly; He came flying upon the wings of the wind." "He that eateth my flesh and drinketh my blood, dwelleth in me and I in him;" "for my flesh is meat indeed, and my blood is drink indeed." "This (bread) is my body; this cup is the New Testament in my blood." "If thy right hand offend thee, cut it off and cast it from thee." "I am the Door of the sheep." "I am the true vine, and my Father is the Husbandman." In all these passages, and others which will occur to every reader of the Scripture, the literal sense conveys neither real nor apparent truth. The Lord does not really ride through the sea, nor does he even _appear_ to do so. The flesh of the Saviour was not to be _literally_ eaten. The bread which He held was not really his body, nor did it even _seem_ to be so. And as in these and similar instances, the outward letter of the Word conveys not its true meaning, it is to be sought for in the law of correspondence; or in that eternal connection which subsists between natural things and spiritual. And upon this law of correspondence or analogy I must make a few preliminary remarks. It is what the world in general terms _figure_, or _metaphor_; but the New Church makes a distinction, and I will add, a very just one, betwixt _figure_ (properly so called) and _correspondence_. Figurative language is that in which a comparison is drawn between one natural object and another; the analogy between which exists only in the imagination, and has, therefore, no _real_ existence: but correspondence is the representation of spiritual things by natural; and the resemblance is not merely imaginary but real, consisting in the proper dependence of the latter upon the former, as an effect upon its cause. If we compare a mighty empire in its rise, glory, and decline, to an oak springing up, flourishing for centuries, and then decaying, we use _figurative_ language; since both the empire and the oak are _natural_ objects, which have no _real_ connection with each other, and between which the resemblance is only imaginary. But when the Creator is likened to the sun, the language is no longer _figurative_ but _correspondent_. It is not the comparison of earthly things with earthly, but of spiritual things with natural. And the objects compared have a real connection with each other, since the material sun depends on its Creator as an effect upon its cause. Again, when the church is described as the Lord's body, the language is correspondent and the connection real; for the rise and prosperity of the church depended upon the assumption of humanity by the Saviour; and it still hangs upon it as the cause of its existence. We further notice that all passages of the Word, the historical as well as the poetical, bear within them such a correspondent or internal sense. This will be placed beyond a reasonable doubt if we consider, first, that "all Scripture," whether historical or prophetic, is, according to the Apostle, inspired or _God-breathed_. And as the breath of God is the infinitude of his love and wisdom, every portion of the sacred Volume must be filled with it. Not only every book in general, but every verse and every sentence;--for if we can find a single sentence which does not contain within itself the infinite wisdom of God, such sentence must either form no part of the Scripture, or the assertion of Paul must be untrue. And secondly, the Word of God from the beginning to the end is intended to "make us wise unto salvation." This is the design with which every part of it was written. But we can only become truly wise by being acquainted with our own state, and with the nature of the Divine Redeemer. Whatever part, therefore, does not relate both to God and to ourselves, cannot communicate saving wisdom; and consequently, (if the Apostle be correct,) cannot form any portion of the Sacred Volume. Now, independently of the passages which we have before quoted, the greater part of what is called "the historical Word," consists, in its mere _outward form_, of the records of the Jewish nation, their wars, and their policy. The prophecies themselves in their literal and obvious meaning, refer to the rise and decline of earthly states, and to the mutation of earthly empires. Either, then, such records and prophecies must have an internal and correspondent meaning, relating to spiritual and divine things, or if they have not, they cannot be fitted to communicate saving wisdom, and so cannot be accounted part of the Scriptures; seeing that the _Scriptures_ in every part, are, according to Paul, filled with this wisdom.[1] If, then, there _are_ parts of the Word of God, the true meaning of which is not to be found in the literal sense; if that Word contains, within the outward letter, a spiritual and internal meaning; and if we are to resort to such meaning where the letter gives not the true one; the next inquiry which arises is, How are we to determine when a passage is true in the literal sense, or when it is only true in the corresponding one? The answer is easy. When the outward meaning of any passage asserts something at variance with reason,--or when it appears opposed to the known character of God, then such meaning must be abandoned, and the truth sought in the internal sense. This answer has been admitted as correct by the Protestant churches, in their contest with their Catholic neighbors. The latter argue that the words of our Lord, "This is my body," are to be literally understood; while the former very justly answer that, since such an interpretation is opposed to reason and at variance with the nature of God as a God of truth, it ought to be and must be rejected; and the words considered as _figurative_, or as I have already termed it, _correspondent_. I have now proved a few preliminary points: _First_, that there are some portions of the Word of God, the true meaning of which is not to be found in the letter. _Second_, that when the literal sense of a passage is opposed to fact and reason, such literal sense is to be rejected. And _third_, that in such cases the interpretation must be sought in the correspondent or figurative meaning. We turn now to what is commonly denominated "the End of the World;" and on stating the generally received doctrine on this subject, we shall quote the words of the celebrated John Wesley, both on account of his piety and learning, and because the views which he maintains may be fairly taken as those of the generality of Christians. First he observes: "There shall be earthquakes, not in divers places only, but in _all places_; not in one part only, but in every part of the habitable world. In one of these every island shall flee away, and the mountains will not be found. Meanwhile all the waters of the terraqueous globe will feel the violence of these concussions. The sea and the waves roaring, with such an agitation as had never been known before since the hour that `the fountains of the great deep were broken up' to destroy the earth, which then stood 'out of the water and in the water!' The air will be all storm and tempest, full of dark vapors, and pillars of smoke resounding with thunder from pole to pole, and torn with ten thousand lightnings. But the commotion will not stop in the region of the air: the powers of heaven also shall be shaken. 'There shall be signs in the sun and in the moon, and in the stars;' those fixed as well as those that move round them. 'The sun shall be turned into darkness, and the moon into blood, before the great and terrible day of the Lord come.' 'The stars shall withdraw their shining,' yea, and 'fall from heaven,' being thrown out of their orbits. And then shall be heard the universal _shout_ from all the companies of heaven, followed by the _voice of the archangel_, proclaiming the approach of the Son of God and man; and the _trumpet of God_ sounding an alarm to all that sleep in the dust of the earth. In consequence of this, all the graves shall open and the bodies of men arise." After the following judgment, (which Mr. Wesley thinks must last several thousand years, considering "the number of persons who are to be judged, and of actions which are to be inquired into,") he proceeds: "Then the heavens will be shriveled up as a parchment scroll, and pass away with a great noise. The very manner of their passing away is disclosed to us by the apostle Peter, 'In the day of God, the heavens being on fire shall be dissolved.' The whole beautiful fabric will be overthrown by that raging element, the connexion of all its parts destroyed, and every atom torn asunder from the others. 'By the same the earth also and the works that are therein, shall be burnt up;' the enormous work of nature, the everlasting hills, mountains that have defied the rage of time, and stood unmoved so many thousand years, will sink down in fiery ruin. How much less will the works of art, though of the most durable kind, the utmost efforts of human industry, tombs, pillars, triumphal arches, castles, pyramids, be able to withstand the flaming Conqueror! All, all will die, perish, vanish away, like a dream when one awaketh."[2] Such, in substance, is the doctrine of the Christian world; and certainly if _fear_ and _terror_ were sufficient to drive men into a state of righteousness, here are horrors enough to excite the fears even of the most courageous. But not the eloquence of man any more than his wrath, worketh the righteousness of God. It is not sufficient that a doctrine be eloquently set forth; it must also have truth for its foundation. It is not enough that Scripture be quoted to support it; that Scripture must also stand in its proper connexion, and retain its proper meaning; for if this be not the case, however eloquent the preacher and however numerous the apparent proofs, the tenet can only rank with that "wood, hay, and stubble,"--those unsubstantial and airy doctrines, which, when tried by the fire of Divine Wisdom, are consumed and pass away. And if we can prove, _First_, That the passages which are quoted to support the doctrine before us, are _literally_ understood, while nevertheless such literal sense leads to absurdity; _Second_, If we can further make it appear that such a _literal_ application of them makes them inconsistent with each other as well as with many plain portions of the Bible; and again, that, even if we admit such outward meaning to be correct, it gives no countenance to the doctrine in dispute; while at the same time that doctrine is opposed to the end of creation and the character of God;--if these propositions can be made good, I trust it will appear, that the tenet itself has no countenance from the Scriptures; and that the true meaning of the passages adduced, must be sought for in the internal or spiritual sense of the Word. The portions of Scripture on which the supposed destruction of the universe is founded, are far from numerous. Some of them are already quoted in the extract from Mr. Wesley; and previous to entering upon the consideration of our first proposition, we shall point out a few of the remainder. "Immediately after the tribulation of those days, the sun shall be darkened, and the moon shall not give her light, the stars shall fall from heaven, and the powers of heaven shall be shaken; and then shall appear the sign of the Son of man in heaven; and then shall all the tribes of the earth mourn, and they shall see the Son of man coming in the clouds of heaven with power and great glory. And He shall send his angels with a great sound of a trumpet, and they shall gather together his elect from the four winds, from one end of heaven to the other." Matt. xxiv. 29, 30, 31. "Till heaven and earth pass, one jot or one tittle shall in no wise pass from the law, until all be fulfilled." Matt. v. 18. "Ye men of Galilee, why stand ye gazing up into heaven? This same Jesus who is taken from you, shall so come as ye have seen Him go into heaven." Acts i. 11. "Then cometh the end, when he shall have delivered up the kingdom to God, even the Father." 1 Cor. xv. 24. "The Lord Jesus shall be revealed from heaven with his mighty angels in flaming fire, taking vengeance on them that know not God." 2 Thess. i. 7, 8. "The day of the Lord will come as a thief in the night, in which the heavens shall pass away with a great noise, and the elements shall melt with fervent heat; the earth also, and the works that are therein shall be burned up." 2 Peter iii. 10. But it is from the book of Revelation, that the principal part of the proofs are drawn. A book _confessedly_ figurative in its language, and which the wisest and most learned men have in vain striven to interpret. One could hardly commit or imagine a greater outrage upon the common sense of mankind, than that which the defenders of this doctrine have committed, by first confessing the Book itself to be figurative and inexplicable, and then adducing its language _literally_, in their support, as if they had all at once found out that it was no longer figurative but _literal_. If the visions of the Apostle are not literal, but grand and representative images, then ought they not to be understood in a literal manner, or if they are to be so understood, then as plain and literal narrative they may be easily explained; and the complaint which the receivers of this doctrine have so often made, that it cannot be understood, is to the last degree frivolous and foolish. And what makes the matter still worse is, that the passages they have adduced are among the most highly figurative in the Apostle's descriptions. The following are among them: "Behold He cometh with clouds, and every eye shall see Him; and they that pierced Him; and all the tribes of the earth shall wail because of Him." i. 7. "And I beheld when he had opened the sixth seal, and lo, there was a great earthquake; and the sun became black as sackcloth of hair, and the moon became as blood, and the stars of heaven fell unto the earth; even as a fig-tree casteth her untimely figs when she is shaken of a mighty wind; and the heaven departed as a scroll, when it is rolled together, and every mountain and island were moved out of their places." vi. 12, 13, 14. "And I saw a great white throne, and Him that sat on it, from whose face the earth and the heaven fled away, and there was found no place for them: and I saw the dead, small and great, stand before God." xx. 11, 12. "And I saw a new heaven and a new earth, for the first heaven and the first earth were passed away, and there was no more sea." xxi. 1. Such are the texts of Scripture by which the doctrine before us is supported; the greater part of which have clearly no reference to the subject, and the remainder being not the literal language of narrative, but the _correspondent_ and mysterious words of prophecy. Yet, even viewing them in their outward meaning, we can scarcely fail to be struck with the wide difference which exists between them and the description of Mr. Wesley. There is nothing in them of an earthquake, amidst some general concussion in which every island shall flee away:--nothing of "the air resounding with thunder from pole to pole, and being torn with ten thousand lightnings:"--nothing of the connexion of every part being destroyed, and every atom torn asunder from the others. We may therefore fairly set these down as additional horrors, supplied by the imagination of the writer, and unsupported by anything like Scripture proof. And with regard to what remains, we will now see how far that _literal_ sense upon which it rests, will stand the criterion by which we are to determine the meaning of Scripture. If the outward meaning is reasonable and consistent, then it must be adhered to, and the doctrine is established: but if, on the other hand, such interpretation leads to absurdity, then, by the consent of every Protestant church, that meaning must be laid aside; and with it, too, must be cast off the tenet of this world's destruction. But one cautionary remark must here be made. We are by no means authorized to mingle together literal and figurative language. That is, we have no right to interpret one part of a sentence literally, and another as figure. The passages before us are either _literal_, or they are _not_. If they _are_, then every part of them must be literally understood; if they are _not_, then no part of them can be literally interpreted. If, then, we adhere to the outward meaning, we must carry that adherence to every portion of the text; for if we reject such meaning in any part, we reject it in the whole; and the doctrine which depends for support upon it, must fall to the ground. Keeping this in view our first proposition is, that, to affix a literal sense to the passages before us, is to give them a meaning at once absurd and unreasonable. We might in proof of this, go through every word in every text. It is declared in the letter that "the Lord shall _descend_ from heaven;" but heaven is not a place connected either by height or distance with the material world. Could we rise far into the regions of space, and ascend for ever in the oceans of worlds, still, as regards _distance_, we should be no nearer heaven than before. Where God manifests Himself in the fullness of his love, there is heaven; but God being a Spirit, can only manifest Himself thus in a spiritual region; and such a region has no relation of space or distance with a world of matter. Hence, therefore, a descent from heaven is not a literal going down from a higher place to one beneath, and consequently must not be _literally_ understood. Here the literal meaning fails at the very threshold. At the first step we are obliged to seek for a figurative or spiritual sense. If we overcome _this_ difficulty, we have yet to encounter others. It is further said that He shall descend with "a trumpet." Now modern Christians ridicule the idea of visible habitations and outward objects in the spiritual world. What then are we to make of the description before us,--of this _trumpet_ with which the Lord is to descend? Is it _material_, or is it _not_? If it is material, then heaven, in which there are material objects, must be a material _place_; and the Being who uses this material trumpet, must be a material Being; consequently, we must materialize both heaven and its inhabitants. But if this trumpet is not a _material_ one, then let the defenders of the literal meaning tell us what is a spiritual trumpet? Whatever may be the answer, one thing is certain,--that which is spiritual is _internal_; and if by the words before us we are not to understand a literal trumpet, but something spiritual signified by it, then the literal meaning of the passage is not and cannot be the true one. It is further declared that "The Lord shall come in the clouds of heaven." The question again arises: What are we to understand by these? The clouds literally mean those masses of vapor, which, arising from the earth, are condensed and become visible in the atmosphere; and which surround the earth at the distance of a few miles. If we keep to the literal sense of the passage, these must be understood. But is it in these that the Lord is to descend? Is six or eight miles above the surface of the globe, heaven? Or can bodies which seldom rise beyond this elevation, be properly called the clouds of heaven? Or is this the glory with which the Lord is to be invested--the vapors which rise from the material globe? But this is not all. With Him the angels are also to descend. Now the nature of angels is not material; they exist not in space, nor are they included in its boundaries. How, then, we again ask, are spiritual beings to descend in a _material_ vapor? It would degrade the subject to carry these questions further; but every person's discernment will enable him to perceive that by no means can the _literal_ clouds be understood; and that these words must, like the former, be acknowledged as _figurative_. Here, therefore, at the very commencement we are obliged to _spiritualize_ both the _descent_, the _trumpet_, and the _clouds_. Do what we will, the literal sense is absurd. And if we are forced to allow that _part_ of the description cannot be literally understood, it is fair to conclude that the remainder has also an _internal_ meaning. We shall soon perceive further proof of this. After it is declared that the Lord shall come "in the clouds of heaven," it is added, as a necessary consequence, "and then shall _all the tribes of the earth_ mourn, when they _see_ the Son of Man coming in the clouds." In agreement with this are the words of John, "Behold, He cometh _with clouds_; and _every eye_ shall see Him." If this be understood of an event which is literally to take place, we must again believe an impossibility. This world is a _round_ body; and that which is visible to the inhabitants of one hemisphere, must be invisible to the dwellers on the other. Those who live upon one part of its surface cannot, by any possibility, see what is above the opposite part. This is a circumstance of daily experience:--at twelve o'clock at midnight the sun is visible to the inhabitants of the other side of this earth, and with them it is noon-day; but at that hour it is invisible to us; nor can we, by any possible means, obtain a sight of it. If, then, it be true that an object visible on one side of a globe, is invisible on the opposite, we inquire, In what situation must the Lord appear, that He may be seen at one and the same moment from _every part_ of a round body? Where, or in what part of the atmosphere must He be placed that _all the tribes of the earth_, (those on its _opposite sides_,) may behold Him at the same time? Such a position is not only difficult, but absolutely impossible, unless the figure of the globe were changed; and to believe that such will be the manner of our Lord's coming, is to involve ourselves in a labyrinth of absurdities. Aware of this difficulty, the writer whom I have already quoted supposes that the inhabitants of this earth will be caught up in the air, and _thus_ be enabled to behold our Lord's descent. "Perhaps," says he, "it is more agreeable to our Lord's own account of his coming in the clouds, to suppose it will be above the earth, if not 'twice a planetary height;' and this supposition is not a little favored by what St. Paul writes to the Thessalonians, 'The dead in Christ shall rise first.' Then we who remain alive shall be caught up together with them in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air. So that it seems most probable, the 'great white throne' will be exalted high above the earth." Such a method of explanation only shows the difficulties into which the mere literal sense has thrown its followers. Independent of the total absence of all Scripture proof of these ideas, it may be remarked that, "twice a planetary height," that is, twice the distance of the farthest planet from the earth, is not the place of clouds; in such case, therefore, the Lord would not come _in_ the clouds, but far _above_ them. Nor could He be said to descend _from_ heaven; for as heaven, in the literal sense, is the starry region, if He remained stationary in that region, it would not be a descent _from_ heaven, but a descent _in_ heaven. And besides, as the clouds, literally, are the vapors surrounding the earth, by interpreting them to mean "twice a planetary height," the literal sense is given up; and if this be rejected, the doctrine before us is overthrown. Once more we turn to the texts. Another event which is said to accompany the coming of the Lord, is the falling of the stars from heaven to the earth. "The stars shall fall from heaven, and the powers of heaven shall be shaken." "The stars of heaven fell unto the earth, even as a fig-tree casteth her untimely figs, when she is shaken of a mighty wind." When, in disputing with the Romish church, we contend that the Lord's words are not to be understood _literally_, we think it sufficient to prove, that so understood they involve an absurdity. But fully as great an absurdity is involved in the literal interpretation of the words before us. The stars, though to us they appear but as shining atoms, are proved beyond the possibility of doubt, to be equal to our sun both in size and splendor. Each one of them is, in fact, a _sun_, as large and as brilliant as that which enlightens our day. Now the sun exceeds our earth nearly ten hundred thousand times in magnitude; _each_ star, therefore, may be reasonably supposed to exceed the size of this globe nearly a million times. As well, then, may we talk of ten thousand worlds falling upon an atom, as of ten thousand suns, each of them a million times larger than the globe, falling upon this grain of earth: it is in itself as impossible as for a piece of bread to become the body of the Lord. But further; the _number_ of these bodies is beyond the power of human calculation. Millions sink into nothing in computing it,--_thousands_ of millions are nothing. Every part of the vault of heaven contains myriads; and clusters of them have been observed which contain, within themselves, myriads more. Could we penetrate into the depths of space, as far as the eye could see--as far as thought could penetrate, we should find suns and worlds till the mind was lost in the idea of their multitude: and though we continued to move onward for ages, we should still find ourselves but on the threshold of creation. These are not the visions of speculation, but the facts of philosophy;--truths which actual observation has placed beyond a doubt. Such are, literally, the stars of heaven: myriads of myriads of suns, surrounded by ten thousand times ten thousand worlds. And let the common sense of mankind decide, whether all these can fall upon the surface of a globe not equal to the smallest of them in magnitude. But we have not yet done with this subject. Let us imagine it possible that these innumerable and enormous bodies _were_ thrown out of their stations, and by the hand of God launched towards our little world. What would result if they only came within a short distance of it? (to say nothing of their falling upon its surface.) It is well known to all who are acquainted with philosophy, that each of the heavenly bodies possesses a power called attraction, by which it draws towards itself any smaller body that comes within its sphere. So powerful is this attractive force that the sun alone draws all the worlds which move around it, and keeps them from flying off, though some are at the distance of eighteen hundred millions of miles! Each of the stars being of the same nature with our sun, possesses equally this attracting power. And were only a few of these bodies to be brought within a certain distance of the earth, the force of their combined attraction acting in contrary directions, would explode and scatter abroad, not only this earth but every earth in the system: and long before they could fall upon its surface, there would be no world for them to fall upon; it would be dissolved, and its atoms scattered through the universe. Again, the Apostle Peter declares that "The heavens shall pass away with a great noise, and _the elements_ shall _melt_ with fervent heat." A question, therefore, once more arises, what is meant by "the elements?" Literally, they signify the most simple forms of matter, fire, air, earth, and water. But how can these melt, or be melted?--Can _fire_ melt with fervent heat? It may be dispersed in its pure form, that of heat or caloric; but it is incapable of being melted. Can air, then, melt? It may be expanded, but it will not _melt_, in the literal meaning of the word. Can water melt? It may be raised in steam, and made to fly off in vapor: it may, by the application of heat, be resolved into air, its first principle; but it will not melt. There is, therefore, only one element out of the four which is capable of being literally melted; _earth may_, indeed, be vitrified, and rendered fluid. But how can _one element_ be denominated _the elements_? And besides, the apostle seems to exclude the _earth_ from the elements which are thus to melt; for he mentions _its_ destruction, as subsequent to that of the elements. "The elements shall melt with fervent heat, the _earth also_", that is, in addition to these, the earth and the works that are therein, shall be burned up.[3] Here again, the literal sense fails. We must either allow what is not true, namely, that _fire_, _air_, and _water_, can be melted by fire, or seek for an internal and figurative meaning. I might pass thus through the whole of the language on which this tenet is founded; and it would be easy to show that the circumstances are as impossible in their literal meaning, as that a man should eat "the flesh of his own arm," or that our Lord should literally be a _vine_ and a _door_. The very advocates of the doctrine are convinced of this. Hence they have framed various and contradictory systems to explain the above descriptions. One has asserted that the earth will at that period _be rolled out_ of her orbit, and that this motion will cause an appearance as if the heavens passed away. Another has enveloped the world in a thick mist, by which the light of the moon, being changed, will appear of a red color. A third has appointed a comet, which in its passage to or from the sun, will approach this earth and involve it in flames. All have seen the difficulties, and all have attempted to overcome them by explanations; yet, after all, the task remains as arduous as ever. If we will, in despite of reason, found a doctrine on the literal meaning of the texts, we must adhere to that meaning; for to depart from it, is to confess its insufficiency: and if, on the other hand, we resolve to reject the literal sense in _one part_, we then acknowledge that it is not the true one, and that another must be sought for. If we are obliged to give up a literal falling of stars to the earth, and a literal appearance in the clouds of the air, then we must give up also, a literal burning and destruction of the universe; for if one part of the sentence is to be understood figuratively, so is the other. And that such destruction is a spiritual event, and not a natural one, will appear still further from the following observation. When two prophecies are found, couched in the same language, and nearly in the same words, one of which prophecies has been fulfilled, while the other yet remains to be accomplished; the manner in which the latter will be fulfilled must be determined by the previous fulfillment of the former. Now it is a fact, although very seldom noticed, that the prophecies relating to the _first_ coming of the Lord, are expressed in the very same language with those which relate to his second appearance. We need only turn to the writings of the prophets to be convinced of this. "Behold," says Malachi, "the day cometh that shall _burn as an oven_, and all the proud, yea, and all that do wickedly shall be as stubble, and the day that cometh shall burn them up, saith JEHOVAH OF HOSTS. And, behold, I send you Elijah the prophet, before the coming of the _great and terrible day_ of the Lord." iv. 1, 5. Again, Isaiah: "All the host of heaven shall be dissolved, and the heavens shall be rolled together as a scroll, and all their host shall fall down as a falling fig from the fig-tree.[4] Every battle of the warrior is with confused noise, and garments rolled in blood; but this shall be with _burning_ and _fuel of fire_. For unto us a child is born." ix. 5. "Upon the servants and upon the handmaids in those days I will pour out my spirit; and I will show wonders in the heavens and in the earth, _blood_, and _fire_, and vapor of smoke. _The sun shall be turned into_ _darkness_ and _the moon into blood_ before the great and terrible day of the Lord come." Joel ii. 29-31. This latter prophecy is expressly applied by Peter to the commencement of Christianity. In defending his brethren from the charge of imposture brought against them by the Jews on the day of Pentecost, he declares, "This (the extraordinary inspiration of the spirit) is that which was spoken by the prophet Joel; I will show wonders in the heaven above, and signs in the earth beneath, blood, and fire, and vapor of smoke. The sun shall be turned into darkness, and the moon into blood." Acts ii. 16-20. Once more, the prophet Haggai, speaking of the same period declares, "Thus saith Jehovah of hosts. Yet once it is a little while and I will shake the heavens and the earth and the sea and the dry land, and I will shake all nations and the desire of all nations shall come, and I will fill this house (the latter temple) with glory, saith Jehovah of hosts." Again, the prophet Joel before quoted, says, "Multitudes, multitudes in the valley of decision; for the _day of the_ Lord is near in the valley of decision. _The sun_ and _the moon shall be darkened_, and the stars shall withdraw their shining. The LORD also shall roar out of Zion, and utter his voice from Jerusalem, and the heavens and the earth shall shake: but the Lord will be the hope of his people. So shall ye know that I am the Lord your God, dwelling in Zion, my holy mountain. Then shall Jerusalem be holy." iii. 14-17. "But who (says Malachi,) may abide the day of His coming, or who shall stand when He appeareth? for He is like a refiner's _fire_ and like fullers' soap." And to conclude this magnificent imagery, Isaiah declares, "Behold, I create new heavens and a new earth; and the former shall not be remembered nor come to mind;--they shall not hunger, nor thirst, neither shall the heat of the sun smite them; but He that hath mercy upon them shall lead them, even by the springs of water shall He guide them." With such descriptions of the first Advent of the Messiah do the prophets abound. Let any one peruse with attention the writings of Isaiah, Jeremiah, Zechariah, Joel, Haggai, and Malachi, and he will be convinced of the truth of this remark. We will now notice the agreement which exists between these prophecies relating to his first appearance, and those which refer to his second coming. Both periods are called "_the day of the Lord_;" and both are ushered in by "darkness and gloominess." In both it is said that "the sun shall be turned into darkness, and the moon into blood;" and in both "the heavens and the earth" are said to "pass away." In both of them the Lord is declared to come "_in fire_," and the conclusion of both is "a new heaven and a new earth." Now _one_ of these periods is past. The first Advent of the Saviour to which the above prophecies refer, is accomplished. And how were these predictions fulfilled? Did the events _literally_ take place? Let history answer. Though the heavens and the earth were to be shaken and pass away, yet no commotion took place in the visible parts of nature. The seasons ran their wonted course; the sun gave forth his usual light; and the earth pursued without intermission her annual journey. Though the moon was to be "turned into blood," yet no such disaster befell the visible planet; her light shone as bright as ever. One solitary meteor alone over the plains of Judea, announced to the Eastern sages the coming of the Saviour. Though his approach was to be _in fire_, yet no material flames accompanied his Advent. The fire of Divine Love alone distinguished Him. Not one of all these predictions had anything resembling a literal accomplishment. And now let us look to the conclusion. If, when two prophecies are given, couched in the same language, one of which is fulfilled while the other remains to be accomplished, the interpretation of the second is to be judged of by the fulfillment of the first, the following argument at once arises: Since the prophecies relating to the first Advent of the Saviour are expressed by the very same terms, and represented by the very same images as those which refer to his _second_ coming, the meaning of these latter must be similar to that of the others. And since not one of _those_ prophecies ever received a literal fulfillment, so neither are we to expect a literal fulfillment of those before us. In a word, since the events predicted at the Lord's _first_ coming were not natural, but representative images of spiritual things--of states of the world and of the church; so those foreshadowing his second coming are representative of similar things, belonging to the minds of men, and will never receive a _literal_ accomplishment. If, however, it be still maintained in opposition to this remark, that they _must_ be understood literally, I will ask one question. Since the words of the _Old_ Testament which describe the first appearance of the Redeemer, are exactly similar to those of the _New_ which predict his second coming; how is it that the former never received a literal fulfillment? If it be replied, that this was figurative language, while the latter is literal description; I again inquire, By what authority or according to what rule is this distinction made? Why is the first to be resolved into figure, while the latter is considered as literally true? Such distinction between the two cannot arise from the _language_; this is almost word for word the same. It cannot be made because the literal sense is in one case _reasonable_, while in the other it is not; for in both cases it involves numerous absurdities. It cannot be because the one is prophecy and the other narrative; for both are the language of prophetic declaration. On what authority, then, is the literal meaning of the first _rejected_, while in the other it is retained and believed? Why are not both to be understood alike, since in both the descriptions are similar? There is no rule by which a distinction can be drawn. I have now gone over the first proposition, and have proved that a literal interpretation of the passages adduced involves absurdities as great as that of transubstantiation; and that the absence of all literal fulfillment in the case of other prophecies exactly similar, affords the strongest reason to expect that in _this_ instance no literal accomplishment will take place. That the language itself is that of _correspondence_,--the representation of spiritual things by natural; and as such it will receive a spiritual and not a natural fulfillment. 2. We now pass to the second point, namely that the texts supposed to refer to the destruction of the material world are inconsistent with each other; and are opposed to other clear and express declarations of Scripture. In this case as in the former, we shall note the words in the debated texts. In the passages brought forward to support the doctrine, there are four ways mentioned in which the destruction of the heavens (or visible starry firmament) is hereafter to take place. First, in one passage of the Revelation, they are described as being "rolled away as a scroll;" in another the stars are said to "fall from heaven to the earth." In Peter's Epistle it is declared that they shall "pass away with a great noise;" and in another place the same apostle says that "the heavens being on fire shall be dissolved." Now these four descriptions considered literally, contradict and destroy each other. To dissolve is to separate into particles, and to return to their first elements. But if the starry heavens are _thus_ to be destroyed, then they can neither fall to the earth nor be rolled together as a scroll; for that which is dissolved and reduced to its first elements, can be destroyed no further except by annihilation. And if the heavenly bodies are to be _thus_ dissolved, then no other kind of dissolution can affect them. Again, if we take the other passage, "they were rolled away as a scroll," we are placed in precisely the same dilemma. By their being rolled away as a scroll, we must then understand that they will be driven from their stations, thrown into confusion, and hurried afar into the depths of space. But if they are thus rolled away they cannot possibly "fall to the earth," for the two events stand in direct opposition; in the first instance they must be hurled into space, far beyond the earth's orbit; in the latter they must absolutely fall upon her surface. And now we ask, Are the stars to be rolled away, or are they to fall upon the earth? The literal sense of the Scripture mentions both events; but if one occurs, the other (consistently with the text) can never take place. Suppose, however, we admit for the sake of argument, that the rolling away of the heavens is an event separate from the destruction of the stars. We again inquire whether this event will take place _before_ such destruction, or _after_ it. If _before_ it, we come to the former conclusion; for then the stars must fly off with the heaven in which they are fixed. If _after_ it, then, as there will be nothing but _empty space_ remaining, we ask how such empty space can be called _the heavens_; and how empty _space_ without a single visible object, can be "rolled away as a scroll!" In this instance, therefore, if we abide by the literal sense of one passage, we must of necessity reject that of the others. But it is further said that all these events are to take place _previous_ to the appearance of the Son of Man. "The sun shall be darkened, and the moon shall not give her light, and the stars shall fall from heaven, and the powers of the heavens shall be shaken. And then (immediately following these events) shall appear the sign of the Son of Man in heaven." Now this prior commotion includes the dissolution of all the elements, "The heavens being on fire shall be dissolved, and the elements shall melt with fervent heat." Among the number of the elements, _the air_ will of course be destroyed, for it is included among them; and with the air those _clouds_ which depend upon it for their existence and visibility. Yet, after this, when the clouds have ceased to be, and when the heavens are no more, the Son of Man is to appear in these very clouds and in the midst of this heaven! Here, again, is an inconsistency in the literal sense of the passage. If the heavens, and with them the clouds are dissolved, then it is impossible that anything can appear _in_ what has ceased to have an existence. Or if the Son of Man _is_ to appear in the clouds, then the heavens cannot be destroyed previous to that appearance. Which way soever we turn we are met by a difficulty. If we receive one of the passages in the literal sense, we must either reject or spiritualize the other. Again: at the time of our Lord's ascension, the two angels who appeared to the disciples declared, "this same Jesus which is taken up from you into heaven, shall _so come in like manner_, as ye have seen him go into heaven." Acts i. 11. It would therefore appear that, if these angelic messengers are worthy of credit, the _descent_ of our Lord is to be exactly similar in circumstance to his ascent. Now, in his ascension into heaven, there are several things which require notice. 1st: It was _private_. He led his disciples from the city to the Mount of Olives. 2d: It was seen by none but his followers. The generality of the Jewish nations did not even know that such an event had taken place; they considered our Lord as a dead man; and hence when they accused Paul before Festus, one part of that accusation was that he affirmed one Jesus to be alive, who was (in their opinion) dead. Acts xxv. 19. 3d: His ascension was a _solitary_ one. There is no account whatever that any persons were _seen_ ascending with Him:--"_He_ was taken up; and a cloud received _Him_ out of their sight." And, 4th: It was _unattended by any outward pomp_. The Jews knew nothing of it;--there was no alteration in the visible world; and even those who witnessed the event, beheld nothing save a bright cloud into which he passed and disappeared. The ascension of the Saviour was therefore to the world a _private_ occurrence, so far as privacy consists in general ignorance respecting it. It was seen by none but his disciples; it was without pomp or show. Of those who afterwards heard of it, numbers gave no credit to the story. And the only visible proof that it had taken place, was the effect which followed--the extraordinary out-pouring of the divine influence. And if we keep to the literal sense of the words, _this_ is to be his descent from heaven: He is to come _in like manner_ as He went up. If, then, this be the case, then such descent will be an occurrence unknown to the generality of mankind, or only known by its following effects. It will be unaccompanied by any destruction, and even by any commotion in the realm of material nature. And many of those who hear of it may be expected to deny it, according to his own words: "When the Son of Man cometh shall He find faith on the earth?" Such, according to the passage before us must be the manner of his Second Coming: but let us, if we can, reconcile this with the former descriptions. In the one case all nature is to be _destroyed_; in the other it is to remain unshaken. In the former instance He is said to descend with thousands of angels; in the latter, to come unattended. By the first description, He is to be seen visibly by all; in the second, He will be invisible to all except his followers. The two accounts thus stand in direct contradiction to each other. If He comes again in the same "manner" that He ascended, then the former passages cannot be literally understood: or if He comes literally in the manner they describe, the passage before us cannot be true. I might here, as in the former case, go through every passage, and show that each of them contains within itself accounts which are inconsistent with those of the others: in one it is said that the Lord shall descend from heaven in flaming fire: in another, in the clouds: in a third, on a great white throne. In one it is declared that, before his face the earth and the heaven shall flee away, and their place be no more found: in a second, that _after_ His coming the departed shall rise from the earth, and the grave and the sea give up their dead; consequently, if the latter part be true, the earth will not pass away at the time of His descent. In the whole there are inconsistencies which science, according to the literal meaning, may disguise, but can never reconcile. We now turn to the consideration of other passages which, taken even in their literal sense, militate strongly against the doctrine in dispute. After the destruction of the antediluvian earth by the flood, Jehovah affirmed, "I will not _again curse the ground any more_, though the imagination of man's heart is evil from his youth; neither will I again smite any more every living thing as I have done." This _curse_ which the Lord is here inferred to have pronounced upon the former world, in whatever sense the terms be taken, was accomplished in its destruction; and the end of that world by a flood of waters, completed its fulfillment. The curse of the Lord, therefore, when pronounced upon the earth, leads to its dissolution. But God Himself affirms that He will not thus curse the ground any more,--that He will not again suffer it to be destroyed, neither will He again smite everything living. The declaration is absolute. It is not said that He will refrain from it during a _limited period_, but that He will not do it _any more_--to all eternity. Yet if the commonly received doctrine be correct, this declaration of Jehovah must be untrue. If _again_ everything living _is_ to be smitten,--if again the earth is to be cursed with destruction as complete, if not more so than the former one; then it cannot be true that every living thing is _not_ again to be smitten, nor the earth again to be cursed. In this instance the literal proofs clash with the solemn declaration of God. If, however, it be objected that these words refer not so much to the _destruction_ of the globe, as to the _mode_ of that event, I reply that no such qualifying language is found in the text. The words are general; they are not "I will not again curse the earth _with water_," but I will not curse the ground,--I will not destroy the earth "_any more_," either in this way or in any other. "I will not smite any more everything living as I have now done," by an universal destruction. And, in fact, the promise that _a flood_ should no more destroy the world, would have afforded little consolation to Noah, had he understood that another destruction more awful than the former, was approaching, in which not this world only, but the whole universe would perish; and when not the greater part, but _all_ things living, would be destroyed, without the preservation even of a remnant. The flood is certainly in the following chapter referred to particularly as the more recent danger, and a repetition of which would be most dreaded by the survivors; but the very same declaration of Jehovah, which interdicts a flood of waters, equally interdicts any other entire destruction:--"I will not in any way curse the ground any more." There is another subject upon which I must touch, but very briefly, since the arguments arising out of it might be carried to a length far exceeding my prescribed limits. The prophetic writings abound with descriptions of what is called "the kingdom of David:"--a kingdom which was to arise in the latter day, and upon which every blessing of heaven was to descend. "In those days," says the prophet Amos, "I will raise up the tabernacle of David that is fallen, and close up the breaches thereof; and I will raise up his ruins, and I will build it as in the days of old." ix. "And in the days of these kings (that is, literally, in the latter times of the Roman power,) shall the God of heaven set up a kingdom which shall never be destroyed, and the kingdom shall not be left to other people; but it shall break in pieces, and consume all these kingdoms, and it shall stand for ever." Dan. ii. 44. Again, the same prophet: "I saw in the night visions, and behold one like unto the Son of Man came with the clouds of heaven, and came to the ancient of days, and they brought him near before him. And there was given him dominion and glory and a kingdom, that all people, nations, and languages should serve him: his dominion is an everlasting dominion, which shall not pass away; and his kingdom, that which shall not be destroyed." That these descriptions refer to the Redeemer, is evident. Isaiah when predicting his approach, and the establishment of his kingdom, says, "Of the increase of his government and peace there shall be no end upon the throne of David, and upon his kingdom to order it and to establish it with judgment and with justice from henceforth even for ever." ix. 7. Now the question is, to what authority or kingdom do these predictions refer? That it is not to the general government of God, is clear,--this had existed from eternity; but the dominion spoken of, was to commence at a definite period of time,--"at that time," and "in the days of those kings." The general subjection of all things to the Divine Being, is also something arising out of his very nature, and is neither given nor acquired; but this was something to be acquired. "The Lord God shall _give_ unto him the throne of his father David:"--"The saints of the Most High shall take the kingdom." Nor can it refer to the kingdom of the just in glory, for the descriptions are such as can only apply to the state of men on earth. "He shall feed his flock like a shepherd; He shall gather the lambs with His arm, and carry them in His bosom." Isa. xl. 11. "I will set up one shepherd over them, and he shall feed them, even my servant David." If, therefore, this kingdom be neither the general dominion over all, nor the state of the righteous in eternity, it can only relate to the kingdom of the church on earth. And that it does so, is plain from the very terms used. David is, by almost all professed Christians, acknowledged to have been a type and representative of the Messiah; and the Jewish nation over whom he reigned, most certainly prefigured the Christian church: the throne of David is therefore the authority of the Lord in his church on earth, and his kingdom is that church itself. Now this kingdom and this throne,--this church and authority _are everlasting_; they shall "never be destroyed;" they shall "not pass away;" they shall "stand for ever." But if _the earth_ on which this church exists, is hereafter to dissolve and pass away, the kingdom must pass away with it. For though it is true that the just in heaven would still constitute a kingdom of the Lord, yet that kingdom would no longer be "_the kingdom of David_." The very declaration that the kingdom of the Lord _on earth_ will _never be destroyed_, supposes as a necessary consequence, that the earth on which it is erected will also continue to exist. In agreement with this are the words heard by John; "There were great voices in heaven, saying, the kingdoms _of this world_ are become the kingdoms of our Lord, and of his Christ, and He shall reign for _ever and ever_." Rev. xi. 15. And over what is He thus to reign? Most certainly over the kingdoms which He is here said to have obtained--the kingdoms of _this world_; and over these He is to reign "for ever and ever." But how is He to reign for ever over the kingdoms of the world, if the world and its kingdoms are to be destroyed? Whenever the earth is dissolved, the kingdoms of the world will be no more; and he cannot reign over that which has no existence! If, then, the world and its kingdoms are to be destroyed, He can never reign _for ever_ over them: or if He will thus reign for ever over the kingdoms of the world, then those kingdoms must exist for ever; and if the _kingdoms_ exist for ever, _the world_ on which they are founded must exist for ever with them. And exactly in accordance with this assertion are the words of the Psalmist: "He (the Lord) built his sanctuary in high places, like _the earth_ which He hath established _for ever_." And those of Solomon:--"One generation passeth away, and another cometh, _but the earth abideth for ever_." The same is declared of the heavens: "His name shall endure _for ever_; His name shall be continued _as long as the sun_." Psalm lxxii. 17. "His seed shall endure _for ever_, and his throne _as the sun_ before me; it shall be _established for ever as the moon_, and as a faithful witness in heaven." lxxxix. 36. Nothing can be more directly opposed to the common opinion than these explicit declarations of the Bible. It is certain that these passages refer to the visible earth and to the material heaven; and these it is expressly declared are to continue not for a limited time, but for ever: while in the passages adduced to prove the opposite, we are left to struggle among difficulties, without any certainty that the visible earth is at all intended, since even those commentators who believe the tenet are compelled, in most instances, to abandon the proofs of it. I have now established, as far as is necessary, my second proposition. I have shown that the literal sense of the passages brought forward to confirm the doctrine of the earth's destruction, are inconsistent with each other, as well as with other parts of the Sacred Volume; and therefore, that such literal meaning cannot be the true one. I have shown that the words of Jehovah assert that the world shall not be smitten any more. I have further shown that the duration of the kingdom of God, runs parallel with that of the visible world, and that therefore both must endure for ever. And lastly, that the sacred writers declare in explicit language the endless duration both of the earth and the heavens. 3. I now proceed to consider the third part of the subject: that the passages brought forward, when taken in their proper connexion, give no countenance to the popular doctrine, but on the contrary, afford evident proofs that they have no reference to it. In doing this, I shall adduce them one by one in the order they are laid down. And first, the passage in the Gospel of Matthew: "Immediately after the tribulation of those days the sun shall be darkened, and the moon shall not give her light, and the stars shall fall from heaven, and the powers of the heavens shall be shaken. And then shall appear the sign of the Son of Man coming in the clouds of heaven; and then shall all the tribes of the earth mourn when they see the Son of Man coming in the clouds of heaven with power and great glory." I have already noticed the inconsistencies which arise from adopting the literal meaning of the passage; and I now remark further, that in their literal and obvious application, the words refer not to any destruction of the world in general, but to the approaching overthrow of the Jewish nation and polity. I admit that they have a spiritual reference to the state of the Christian church of which the Jews were a type; but of this we shall speak hereafter. It is with the literal meaning we have now to do, since on the literal meaning the doctrine is founded.[5] Our Lord had been addressing the multitude in the temple; and in that address He had solemnly warned them of their approaching danger. On his departure, his followers pointed to its stately and magnificent buildings; and He again seized the opportunity to repeat to them the prediction of its final destruction. Naturally anxious to learn the fate of their country, and, perhaps, too uneasy on their own account, they came to Him privately and asked, "When shall these things be?" and "what shall be the sign of thy coming, and of the consummation of the age?"[6]--that is, the period of the Jewish government and religion. In reply, He delivered the splendid prophecy before us; first warning them against those pretenders to Messiahship, who, soon after His ascension, overrun the land of Judea; and then going on to describe the miseries which were coming upon the Jews, and the final overthrow of their temple and city;--He delivers to them this prediction, not in the common language of narrative, but, in the magnificent figures of the ancient prophecy. A method of speaking which, while it pointed out the mutation of earthly things, had a further reference to things spiritual. And thus while He pointed out the overthrow of the Jewish power, He referred likewise to the degraded state and corruption of the Christian church,--the spiritual Jerusalem,--when, having lost its love or charity, it sunk down into a state of formal observance as lifeless as the departed spirit of Judaism. In neither of these senses, however, does the passage point to any destruction of the visible universe. If we take it in its outward reference to the Jewish nation, then the darkening of the sun and the withdrawing of the moon, together with the other parts of the description, can only be representative images of their multiplied distresses. This view of the subject is taken by most of those who have commented on the words. "The sun shall be darkened," "that is, (says one,) all their glory and excellency shall be eclipsed; all their wealth and prosperity shall be laid waste;--the whole government, civil and ecclesiastical, shall be destroyed; and such marks of misery found upon them, as never were seen upon a people."[7] But among the believers of the tenet in dispute, we presume there is not one more highly celebrated for learning than Dr. Adam Clarke; yet he, in commenting upon this passage, gives up all idea of a literal destruction. The following is the doctor's explanation: "'Immediately after the tribulation.'--Commentators generally understand this and what follows, of the end of the world and Christ's coming to judgment. But the word _immediately_ shows that our Lord is not speaking of any distant event, but of something immediately consequent on calamities already predicted; and that must be the destruction of Jerusalem. The _Jewish heaven_ shall perish and _the sun_ and _moon_ of its glory and happiness shall be darkened,--brought to nothing. _The sun is the religion of the church; the moon the government of the state_; and _the stars_ are the _judges and doctors of both_. In the prophetic language, great commotions upon earth are often represented under the notion of commotions and changes in the heavens. The fall of Babylon is thus represented by the constellations of heaven withdrawing their light, and the sun and the moon being darkened:--the destruction of Egypt by the heaven being covered, the sun enveloped with a cloud, and the moon withholding her light: the destruction of the Jews by Antiochus Epiphanes, is represented by _casting down some of the host of heaven_ and _the stars_ to the ground. And this very destruction of Jerusalem is represented by the prophet Joel, by showing wonders in heaven and in earth,--_darkening the sun, and turning the moon into blood_. This general mode of describing these judgments, leaves no room to doubt the propriety of its application in the present case." (_Commentary on Matthew._) Thus, in the hands of one of the most learned advocates of the doctrine, does one of its principal proofs vanish into air. According to his showing, there is nothing in the whole passage referring at all either to the material earth, or the visible heavens; and the whole is a figurative account of the overthrow of the religion and government of the Jews,--"the _sun_ and _moon_ of the _Jewish heaven_." We might follow the doctor through the whole chapter, and show that in almost every point he confirms what has been formerly advanced. "The sign of the Son of Man was, (he says,) the signal manifestation of Christ's power and glory," in the destruction of Jerusalem. The "angels sent forth to gather the elect, the apostles and their successors in the Christian ministry." The sound of a trumpet, "the earnest affectionate call of the Gospel:" and "_the elect_," "the Gentiles who were now chosen or elected, in place of the rebellious obstinate Jews." In the same manner he explains the whole of this and the following chapter; and in the latter declares that the whole of the accounts up to the thirty-first verse, may be properly applied to the destruction of Jerusalem. And here we may leave him; for if there is nothing from the first verse of the twenty-fourth chapter, to the thirty-first verse of the twenty-fifth, which relates to the destruction of the world, surely nothing respecting it will be found in the remainder. Thus does this passage, so often brought forward to add to the terror of the world's dissolution, which has been sounded forth from pulpits and re-echoed from the press, when calmly examined, prove to have no connexion with the subject: but to refer to an event as different from the general conflagration, as light from darkness. But some may be ready to say, "Although it has not this reference in its outward meaning, yet you have already confessed that it relates to Christianity and the church; and is not the doctrine contained in this internal application?" I answer, no! The doctrine only stands upon the supposition that the heavens and the earth referred to in the passage, are the literal and visible portions of nature. We have seen that in its relation to the Jews, no such things are intended; still less, therefore, can it point to these in its _internal_ meaning. As the sun and moon in the literal application are, (to use the words of Dr. Clarke,) "the sun and moon of the _Jewish_ heaven" or state, so in spiritual reference, they are the sun and moon of the _Christian_ heaven, or state of the church; and, as pointing to spiritual principles and spiritual states, have nothing to do with the outward machinery of nature. As no destruction of the world, then, can be found in the _internal_ sense of the prophecy, it is confessed, even by the advocates of the doctrine, that there is nothing respecting it in the _outward_ sense. And if nothing is found relating to it either in the _spiritual_ or _literal_ meaning of the words, then it is not there _at all_; and the passage as a proof of the dissolution of all things, must be abandoned for ever.[8] The next passage which claims attention, is that in the sixth chapter of the Revelation; for the words in the first chapter being those of the apostle previous to his prophetic visions, may be classed among the apostolic passages of which we shall speak hereafter. The text before us reads: "And I beheld when he had opened the sixth seal, and lo, there was a great earthquake; and the sun became black as sackcloth of hair, and the moon became as blood, and the stars of heaven fell unto the earth, even as a fig-tree casteth her untimely figs, when she is shaken of a mighty wind: and the heaven departed as a scroll when it is rolled together, and every mountain and island were moved out of their places." In this part of the subject I say nothing of the evidently figurative nature of the passage, nor of the absurdities before alluded to, as existing in the sense of the letter; but I shall make one remark obvious to the minds of all, and borne out by the connexion of the words themselves. The vision of the _seals_ (as well as that of the vials,) is one continued prophecy, which is not concluded until the breaking of the seventh seal in the eighth chapter. Now the events above described, whether representative or literal, happen under the _sixth_ seal; yet the descriptions of the _seventh_ as well as those of the others, refer to events which were to occur in the church and on this visible earth. The sealing of the hundred and forty-four thousand,--the prohibition of the wind to blow on the earth,--the seven trumpets and their consequences, evidently relate to states of the church in this world; yet all these things which were to be transacted in the visible world, happen _after_ the description above quoted. If, then, various and multiplied events are described as occurring _on the earth, after_ the heavens had departed like a scroll, and the islands were moved out of their places, nothing can be more clear than that the destruction of the earth is not here alluded to; for if the world is to be destroyed under the _sixth_ seal, then no events can happen _upon it_ under the _seventh_, since it will then have no existence; but as such events _are_ described as passing _in the world_ under the _seventh_ seal, then that world cannot previously be destroyed under the _sixth_ seal. And in this opinion we are, as before, supported by the advocates of the doctrine themselves. The sealing of the tribes is almost universally acknowledged to signify the preservation of the church, under those heavy and forthcoming calamities represented by the effects of the seven trumpets. And as this preservation, and these calamities, occur _after_ the darkening of the sun, and the falling of the stars, the latter event is generally supposed to prefigure (not the destruction of visible nature, but) some great change in the political or religious constitution of the world. The precise period to which this change is to be referred, has, however, divided the opinions of the learned. Some apply it altogether to the Jews, and suppose that their destruction in Judea and at Jerusalem was so dismal that it was represented to John as the darkening of the sun, and the moon looking like blood, and the stars falling. Others apply it to the overthrow of Paganism and the destruction of the heathen emperors; and accordingly by the earth quaking,--the sun becoming black,--the moon becoming blood, and the stars falling from heaven to earth, is to be understood the great changes that were made in the Roman empire by the overturning of the Pagan state. Others again apply it to "the great and horrible confusion of the Christian world under Antichrist, when Christ the Sun of Righteousness began to be obscured; that is, his doctrine darkened,--the moon or church turned into blood,--the stars or pastors fallen from heavenly offices, the Scriptures, like the heavens rolled up, forbidden to be read, the mountains, (king and princes) in jeopardy,--and the islands brought under Antichrist's yoke and tyranny." Very few venture to apply it to what is commonly called the "end of the world;" and none can do it without charging the apostle with inconsistency, by affirming that it shall take place at a definite period of time; and then speaking of events that are to occur in the world _after_ that time, that is, after the world shall have been destroyed! On this passage the commentator whom we have already quoted observes, "A great earthquake," that is, "a most stupendous change in the civil and religious constitution of the world." "The _sun_"--the ancient Pagan government of the Roman empire, "_was totally darkened_; and like a black hair sackcloth, was degraded and humbled to the dust. The _moon_--the ecclesiastical state of the same empire, _become as blood_, was totally ruined; their sacred rites abrogated; their priests and religious institutions desecrated; their altars cast down; their temples destroyed, or turned into places of Christian worship. The _stars of heaven_--the gods and goddesses, demi-gods and deified heroes, of their poetical and _mythological heaven_, prostrated indiscriminately, and lay as useless as the figs or fruit of a tree shaken down before ripe by a tempestuous wind. _And the heaven departed as a scroll._ The whole system of Pagan and idolatrous worship, with all its spiritual, secular, and superstitious influence, blasted, shriveled up, and rendered null and void as a parchment scroll when exposed to the action of a strong fire. And every mountain--all the props, supports, and dependencies of the empire; whether regal allies, tributary kings, dependent colonies, or mercenary troops, were all moved out of their places, so as to stand no longer in the same relation to that empire and its worship, support, and maintenance, as they formerly did. And _island_:--The heathen temples, with their precincts and inclosures, cut off from the common people, may be here represented by _islands_."[9] Like the former passage, therefore, this is rendered nugatory as a proof of the dissolution of the universe; and rendered so, too, by the admission of its friends. As that referred to the _Jewish heaven_ which passed away at the destruction of the city of Jerusalem, so this is affirmed to apply to the _mythological heaven_ of the Pagans, which was dissolved at the conversion of Constantine to Christianity; and to have no allusion to the system of material nature. Here are two of the strongest passages thrown aside as useless in the controversy; and we shall quickly perceive that, when closely examined, the advocates of the doctrine equally cast off, if not the whole, at least the greater part, of the remainder. Indeed, as I have already remarked, the connexion of the passage is such as will by no means admit of any literal burning of the earth; so that, even though its inapplicability to the subject had _not_ been allowed, yet would the inconsistency attendant on such a meaning, have pleaded loudly for its rejection. We pass now to consider the next proof, which occurs in the twentieth chapter of the same book: "And I saw a great white throne and Him that sat on it, from whose face the earth and the heaven fled away, and there was found no place for them. And I saw the dead small and great stand before God; and the books were opened," etc. In connection with this stands the first verse of the twenty-first chapter: "And I saw a new heaven and a new earth; for the first heaven and the first earth were passed away, and there was no more sea." Upon this passage we may repeat the remark which we applied to the foregoing: that the events which follow this descent of the Saviour, and which are stated as its consequences, are such as apply only to the church of God on earth; and that, therefore, the words before us cannot point to any dissolution of the universe. The immediate effects of the passing away of the heaven and the earth, are the formation of a new heaven and a new earth, and the descent of "the holy city New Jerusalem." This latter event the celebrated Dr. Hammond declares cannot refer to the state of glorified saints in heaven, but must signify some peculiar benefit bestowed upon the church on earth. The expression "descending out of heaven from God," at once determines its reference to a state of things below; and it no doubt relates to the restoration of Christianity to its primitive purity. In the very same manner does Dr. Clarke explain the passage, though he evidently betrays a wish to find within it a proof of the dissolution of all things. "The New Jerusalem," says he, "doubtless means the Christian church in a state of great prosperity and purity:" and alluding to the description given of her, he observes, that "it has been _most injudiciously_ applied to _heaven_." If, then, the consequence of the passing away of the first heaven is to usher in (not eternal glory, but) a prosperous state of the church on earth, it must follow in course that such a passing away of the heavens must refer to a change and alteration in the church, and not in the natural world;--to the conclusion and departure of a state of darkness, and the commencement of a new state of light and affection. As the former _Jewish heaven_ of types and shadows departed at the first coming of the SON OF GOD, and as the _mythological heaven of Paganism_ was "shriveled up" at the triumph of the Gospel, so must the _modern Christian heaven_ of ignorance and evil pass away at the Second Coming of the SON OF MAN; and to it will succeed a _new heaven_ of purity and peace. In this application of the passage, we are supported by the explanation of the above commentators. They agree in defining heaven and earth figuratively, to mean the state of the world and of the church;--of the Jewish world, when applied to the Jews;--of the Pagan world, when applied to the Heathen: and by the self-same mode of interpretation, we are justified in applying it to the _Christian world_ in its reference to Christians. In no case can it be explained of the visible world of matter; for the passages being acknowledged to be figurative, it must, as in the other instances, bear the figurative meaning. Having thus noticed the only two texts in the Revelations, which seem, in the least, to bear upon the subject, I may be allowed again to repeat my surprise, that persons should be found attempting to support a doctrine by the literal sense of this book. Those among the advocates of the popular belief, who have most carefully studied the prophecy, protest their ignorance of its meaning and application. "I cannot pretend to explain the book," says the writer above quoted; "I do not understand it. I repeat it, I do not understand the book; and I am satisfied, that not one who has written on the subject, knows anything more of it than myself."--"What the prophecies mean, and when and _how_ they are to be fulfilled, God in heaven alone knows." It "is termed a _Revelation_; but it is a revelation of _symbols_;--an exhibition of _enigmas_, to which no particular solution is given; and to which God alone can give the solution." "To pretend to say, (observes Calmet,) what this new heaven and new earth mean, and what are their ornaments and qualities, is, in my opinion, the greatest of all presumptions." Yet, into this presumption do the generality of Christians fall, who, amidst this candid confession of learned ignorance, bring forth with the greatest confidence the literal sense of the book, to support a doctrine which length of time has seemed to render sacred. The words of the apostles now demand our attention; and with respect to these we notice a fact which is necessary to the proper understanding of their ideas; that is, that the apostles were themselves ignorant both of the time when, and the manner how, the second coming of the Lord would be accomplished; and that they have, therefore, when speaking upon this subject, carefully abstained from giving any opinion of their own, confining themselves entirely to the words of the Saviour, or paraphrasing them without altering the symbolic images. This circumstance in no degree detracts from that extraordinary illumination with which the apostles were endowed. They were men raised up by God, and filled with the Divine influence, in order that they might propagate in the world, and among all nations, the religion of Christ; but it does not appear that among the supernatural gifts which they received, the gift of _prophecy_ was included, except in the case of the apostle John. Yet, even if we allow, for the sake of argument, that they did _possess_ this gift, it would by no means follow that they perfectly understood their own predictions. It is the peculiar nature of prophecy, that its proper meaning is not known until the time of its fulfillment; and this was especially the case with the Jewish writers who foretold the first advent of the Saviour. Although their predictions seem now so clear and strong, yet both the prophets themselves and their followers, were at the time ignorant of their precise meaning; and hence arose the absurd notions which the Jews entertained of a temporal salvation and an earthly Saviour. The gift of prophecy was, therefore, except in very rare instances, accompanied by entire ignorance of the manner of its fulfillment. It does not, however, appear that this gift was bestowed in general upon the apostles; their knowledge of the second coming of the Saviour was derived entirely from the words of the Saviour; and of the express meaning of these words, as referring to a future event, they were completely ignorant. In quoting his prediction they, therefore, seem to have held a persuasion that this second coming was very speedily to be accomplished. Thus they speak of the "day of the Lord" as "at hand,"--of "the Judge standing at the door:" and Paul, in particular, seems to have believed that some of the Christians of that day, if not himself among them, would live to see its approach. Whether this latter opinion be true or not, certain it is that the words of the apostles had such an effect upon the first Christians, that they were in momentary expectation of the appearance of the Lord. During the first nine centuries after his ascension, a general idea prevailed that his second coming would speedily take place; and when, after waiting nine hundred years, they found their expectations disappointed, they still looked to the one thousandth year to usher in this great event; and so powerfully did this opinion operate upon the world, that rich and poor flocked in great numbers to the Holy Land, there to await his appearance. The wealthy sold their possessions, or gave them away to charitable institutions; kings quitted their thrones, and subjects their employment, under the impression that "the end of all things was at hand," and that the world was of no further value. Such, then, was the effect of a misapplication of prophetic language; and though nearly nineteen hundred years have gone by, yet are the Christian churches still following in the steps of their predecessors, holding the literal sense of the Word in defiance of reason, and looking for the Lord's personal appearance in the clouds of heaven, though common sense proclaims its improbability. But to return. From a comparison of the descriptions of the apostles with the predictions of the Lord, it is easy to perceive whence they quoted. In many instances the two accounts are almost word for word the same; in others they are enlarged; but in none is the connexion of events, or the prophetic symbols, disturbed. "The day of the Lord (says Peter,) shall come as a _thief in the night_, in which the heavens shall _pass away_ with a great noise." Here it is easy to perceive whence the words of the apostle were drawn; for we have only to compare them with those of our Lord, to be convinced that it was from these the description is taken. "Heaven and earth (says the Saviour) shall _pass away_, but my words shall not pass away." "Know this, that if the good man of the house had known at what hour _the thief_ would come, he would have watched, and not have suffered his house to be broken through." Again, Paul declares, "The Lord Himself shall descend from heaven with a shout, with the voice of the _archangel_ and _the trump_ of God; and the dead in Christ shall rise first." Here, too, the prophecy is quoted from the Saviour's declaration: "He shall send his angels with a _great sound_ of a _trumpet_, and they shall gather together his elect from the four winds, from one end of heaven to the other." Once more the Apostle John says: "Behold, he cometh _with clouds_; and every eye shall _see_ him, even they that pierced Him; and all _the tribes of the earth_ shall wail because of Him:" where the allusion is to these words: "Then shall appear the sign of the coming of the Son of Man in _heaven_; and then shall all the _tribes of the earth mourn_, when they _see_ the Son of Man _coming in the clouds_ of heaven, with power and great glory." "Behold, (says the Lord) I _stand at the door_ and knock;" "Behold," says the apostle, echoing the Saviour's words, "the Judge _standeth at the door_." It would exceed my present limits to enter fully into this subject. Suffice to say, that in most passages the reference to our Lord's predictions may be plainly discerned; and in all the prophetic representatives are retained: The sun,--the moon,--the stars,--the earth,--the heavens, darkness, dissolution, and fire--the very images which are used by the Saviour, are likewise used by the apostles, and used, too, with a reference to the _same period_--the last days of the Christian church. If these images, when used by the prophets and by the Redeemer, are figurative, then, as the same _images_ applied to the _same period_, they are figurative when employed by the apostles. Or, if the dissolution and burning of the earth described by the latter are literal facts, then the burning of the earth and its dissolution described by the former, are literal facts likewise; for the _same images_ applied to the _same period_, must have the _same meaning_. If, then, these observations be correct, and I see not how they can be fairly controverted;--if the apostles did not, except in one instance, possess the power of foretelling future events, and if their descriptions of the second coming of the Lord are gathered from his own words, or from the prophetic writings, then we must judge of their meaning by that of the prophecies whence they are derived. This is a plain and self-evident conclusion. If I quote the words of any writer, the meaning of the quotation must be gathered from the works of that writer; and more especially if I quote for a similar purpose, and profess myself one of his disciples and admirers. The passages, therefore, which occur in the apostolic writings, are by no means decisive proofs of the doctrine in debate. As quotations and paraphrases of the Lord's words and those of the prophets, they must, by every rule of fair criticism, have a similar meaning. We have seen that the former are, by the acknowledgment of the most learned writers, figurative and correspondent; the just inference therefore is, that the latter, as quotations and paraphrases of them, must be figurative also. 4. The last part of our proposition comes now before us, namely: that the doctrine of the destruction of the universe is opposed to the end of creation, and to the character of God as a Being of unbounded love and infinite wisdom. I may here be told of the tendency of matter to dissolution; of its mutability and constant change; of the elements of destruction which nature herself engenders; and of all those by which reason and science have sought to gloss over the popular tenet. But the _mutability_ of nature is no proof of final dissolution. _Mutability_ is liability to change, or a continual tendency to remove from one state to another. Whatever is changeable, or whatever can experience alteration, is, therefore, mutable. But this mutability attaches not to material nature alone, but to all creation; the highest archangel in the highest heaven, as well as every spirit embodied on earth, is a mutable creature. The state of glory in the eternal world, as well as the state of man below, is a state of _mutability_,--a state in which there are continual changes either for the better or the worse. This will appear plain if we consider that, whatever is immutable cannot be acted upon by any higher power; for the action of such a superior cause supposes a corresponding _effect_ and that effect supposes a _change_ in the object acted upon, in one way or another; and, consequently, any object upon which an effect can be produced, must be a mutable or changeable object. Now, in the case of angelic beings, God, the First Cause of their existence, is continually acting upon them by his love and wisdom, and thus raising them eternally in the scale of blessedness: such alteration of their state from glory to glory is a change,--an effect produced upon them by an Almighty Cause; and this effect is at once a proof that angels themselves are _mutable_ creatures, or liable to change. The same may be said of the state of blessedness; it is continually receiving fresh supplies of glory from the Fountain of life, and is thus _changing_--becoming more and more blessed: and it equally applies to the spirit of man. This, like the mind, is never "at one stay;" nor, perhaps, does the state of the mind remain precisely the same for two hours together. The angels of heaven, the state of the blessed, the spirit of man, are all changeable. God is the _only immutable Being_; for He alone cannot be acted upon or changed by any higher power; and hence it is one of his exclusive prerogatives to be "without variableness or shadow of turning." If, then, the angelic hosts, as well as heaven itself, are mutable, while yet they endure for ever, the mutability of nature is no proof at all that she, any more than the former, is approaching dissolution. "Nature herself," as one well observes, "effects her renovation from her decay." Matter, though decomposed and subjected to ten thousand changes, loses none of its essential properties; but continually assuming new forms, gives variety to the world, without being at all altered from its original nature. Indeed, it has been strongly asserted that there has not been a particle of matter lost from the creation to the present moment; changed every particle may have been, but still there is not one wanting; and if this be the case, such continual change is no proof of approaching destruction. We are accustomed to look upon God as a Being of infinite Love; and, perhaps, at this stage of the subject it may be well to inquire, what motive induced the Lord first to create the visible universe; and what was the end proposed in its creation. In the breast of the Divine Being there could exist but one motive from which creation could spring; and this was Love. But the Love of God being infinite, could only have respect to an eternal work; hence the end of creation was to make as many beings as possible happy, and this to all eternity. In order to accomplish this, infinite _Love_ clothing or embodying itself in _wisdom_, made the worlds. According to the words of the apostle, "By the Word (or the wisdom of God,) were the heavens made;" intending these as the habitations of rational beings, who after having passed through a short state of probation, might finally enter upon a spiritual state and enjoy perfect happiness. The wisdom of God, being the manifestation of his love, in completing this work, arranged everything in the most perfect order; and accordingly every part of the universe is formed in the manner best fitted to promote the end of its existence,--the everlasting happiness of man. In our own world, where evil has produced a corresponding change in outward things, even that change itself is good, since, while it reminds man of his corruption, it leads him to seek a better habitation. Thus far our assertions are easy of proof. GOD IS LOVE;--not merely _loving_, but LOVE, the Spring and Fountain of all derived existence. And love, even in its derivative form in the bosom of man, is an active passion, continually seeking for objects on whom to bestow its affection. As is the stream, then, so is the fountain: God being Love in its Infinite Essence, must ever have sought to form creatures capable of being rendered eternally happy; and hence the motive that led to creation. But _love_ always manifests itself in the understanding or thought; and by the thought is brought into outward action. It is the thought or wisdom of man in which his love first takes a definite form; this serves it for a guide, and directs its operations: and so again is it with the Being in whose "image" we are formed. The manifestation of infinite Love, is infinite Wisdom; and this brings the power into outward act: by infinite Wisdom, therefore, as the acting form of infinite Love, were rational beings and their varied habitations created. But this perfect wisdom can never produce anything unlike itself; for, as is the _cause_, so is the _effect_; hence the frame of nature which that wisdom calls into being, must be like itself, the most perfect and complete that could possibly exist. The _motive_, therefore, which led to creation was _Love_; its _cause_, Wisdom; its _end_, continued and eternal happiness. And further, as the love and wisdom of God once operated in bringing the universe into existence, so from that period have they been unceasingly employed in preserving the creatures which they formed; for, as the _end_ of creation was the "bringing of many souls into glory," so, to the present, has that end been answered by the constant exercise of the Divine protection over the universe of matter and its rational inhabitants; that the one might continue a fit habitation for the creatures of God; and that by the constant procreation of the human race, a succession of men might be brought into being as candidates for everlasting glory. But the expected dissolution of the universe, and the end of human succession, will at once put a stop to this infinite design. If, after a certain number of persons have been born into the world, the procreation of man must end, then the purpose of creation cannot be _infinite_; for that which has reference to a certain number and a definite period of time, is not an _infinite_ purpose; and that which is not an infinite purpose, is not the off-spring of _infinite love_. Or, if the purpose of God in creation _did_ spring from infinite love, then it must be an infinite purpose; and if the purpose of creation be infinite, then it is not bounded by a few thousand years, nor will it end with a few generations. Nor is the popular doctrine more consistent with the character of God than with the infinity of his designs. We have seen that _love_ was the cause of the world's creation; but what motive, I ask, can lead to its destruction? There is nothing in the Almighty contrary to love; therefore, if it is destroyed at all, _love_ must be still the motive. But love never works except for the good of its creatures; therefore, if the universe is dissolved, it must be because such dissolution will confer a benefit upon mankind. And the question then arises: What benefit can mankind derive from the destruction of this material world? The answer of some will be ready. "The world" they tell us, "has been changed by sin, and it will be dissolved in order that it may be restored to its pristine glory and beauty;--that a new heaven and a new earth may spring from its ashes." But does the change here supposed in the constitution of the world, require its dissolution? When sin entered into the universe, and the mind of man was contaminated, an immediate and corresponding effect was produced upon the world of matter; but the production of that effect was not accompanied by a _dissolution_ of the material system; it operated surely indeed, but slowly, and without any outward destruction. Why, then, should not the change from evil to good, be effected in like manner as the change from good to evil? When the earth is "filled with the knowledge of the Lord,"--when all shall experimentally "know Him from the least even unto the greatest,"--when man is again restored to his former state of peace and purity, a corresponding change must once more take place in his material habitation; but that change requires no destruction of the world to effect it. Similar causes produce similar effects; and as a change in man from good to evil, produced an alteration in the system of the world, but without any dissolution, so a change in the souls of men from evil to good, must likewise produce an alteration in the earth, but without dissolution. But this destruction, it is said, is to usher in "a new heaven and new earth." We are, therefore, justified in asking, for what purpose is this new material system created? Since it is believed that the succession of man will cease with _this_ earth, why should _another_ earth be formed? Is another race of men to be created? This, the strongest advocates of the doctrine do not even suppose. Is it, then, to be the habitation of the righteous of the present earth? This, it cannot be, for the bodies of the departed will no longer be material, but _spiritual_; and to assert that a _spiritual_ substance can dwell and walk on a material earth, however pure that earth may be, is to assert what every one sees to be preposterous. Since, then, it will not suit the departed righteous, and another race is not to be formed, why, we continue to ask, will this new earth be created? Here we are left completely in the dark; nor amidst all the reasoning of the advocates of the popular doctrine, can we find a single clue to direct us to an answer. And here the former inquiry properly comes in. Since there is nothing in the nature of God contrary to _love_, and since that love only works for the temporal or everlasting benefit of man, what motive can induce the Almighty to destroy this visible universe? We have seen that the state of mankind in time will not be improved by it; for a change in the constitution of the earth has been already, and may again be, effected without it: and, besides, whenever such an event takes place, time and the temporal existence of man will be no more: and the eternal happiness of the blessed can in no degree be increased by an overthrow of material nature; for when the spirit has left this sphere, it has done with matter, and no longer depends upon it for its feelings or its pleasures. If, then, such a dissolution of the earth as Christians in general look for, will neither benefit mankind in time nor in eternity, then it is contrary to the character of God that He should bring such an event to pass; for He never operates unless to effect some benevolent purpose; and this will effect none, either here or hereafter. The same reasons which induced the Almighty to call the universe into existence, will therefore induce Him to continue its existence. The desire which He felt to make as many rational beings as possible happy, led to creation. The same feeling has preserved the world in existence to the present moment. And as God is unchangeable, that desire must operate as powerfully ten thousand ages hence, as it does now; and the operation of that desire must, as a necessary consequence, lead to the preservation of this earth, from which a succession of rational creatures is to spring. If, then, at a future period the world is destroyed, and the multiplication of the human race ceases, it must be either because the Lord is unable to save more, or is unwilling to do it. The first supposition is impious, and the other supposes a change in the Almighty; for then that desire which led to creation must have ceased to exist in the Divine bosom; the infinite love of God must have ceased to operate; and of consequence, the Lord Himself must have changed both his desires and his operations. The destruction of the world is, therefore, opposed to the character of God, as a Being of infinite Love and unbounded power. We may now sum up the arguments which have been adduced. 1. When the literal sense of a passage of Scripture is opposed to common sense and reason, such literal sense must be laid aside, as not containing the true meaning. But the literal sense of those passages which speak of a destruction of the earth, is both absurd and unreasonable. Therefore the literal sense of these passages must be abandoned, and does not contain the proper interpretation. Again: when two prophecies are found couched in the same language, and referring to a similar event, one of which is fulfilled while the other remains unaccomplished; the manner in which the latter will be fulfilled, must be judged of by the previous fulfillment of the former. But the first prophecies relating to the first coming of the Lord, are exactly similar to those which refer to His second coming; yet they never were _literally_ fulfilled: therefore we have no just reason to look for a literal fulfillment of the latter. 2. When any text of Scripture is, in the letter, inconsistent with itself, or with other plain and express passages of the Word, the interpretation must be sought for in the spiritual meaning of the words. But the proofs of this earth's destruction are inconsistent with themselves, and are opposed to other plain and direct portions of the Word of God; therefore the meaning of those alleged proofs must be found, not in the literal sense, but in their spirit. 3. In the explanation of every part of the Sacred Scriptures, a due regard must be had to the connexion in which it stands; and any mode of explanation which tends to break such connexion, or is at variance with it, may be beautiful but cannot be _true_. But the connexion in which the passages referred to are found, is completely at variance with the doctrine derived from them; nor can they in any way support that doctrine until severed from this connexion. Therefore that explanation which the generality of Christians gives them, cannot be correct. 4. And, lastly, whatever doctrine is opposed to the character of God, as a God of unbounded love and infinite wisdom, is not a doctrine of the Bible. But the doctrine before us is thus opposed both to his nature and perfections; therefore it cannot be true. The arguments arising out of these propositions might be carried to a great extent. If, however, they have been supported by reason as well as Scripture,--if we have no right to expect a literal fulfillment of the prophecy relating to the Lord's second coming; and if the literal sense of the passages must be abandoned; then we have no reason to look for an overthrow of the universe, and the improbability of such a destruction has been fairly established. Having thus gone through the principal part of the subject, and having shown that the common interpretation, against which so many and serious objections lie, cannot be the true meaning; I proceed, as a necessary conclusion, to notice briefly the spiritual meaning of the prophetic symbols used in the passages that we have noticed, and their connexion with each other. That the whole of these passages relate to the Christian church, we have already stated; and that they are of importance to us, may be fairly inferred from their being found in the Sacred Volume. It is, therefore, scarcely possible to conceive that even learned and pious men have been able to perceive nothing within them but earthly concerns,--mere temporal events; the destruction of Jerusalem; the conversion (whether real or pretended) of Constantine; wars in Italy; the irruption of the Goths; and the famine of the Antonines; as if these events were either able, or likely, to give that saving wisdom which it is the object of God by his Word to bestow. Everything in the Sacred Volume is intended to contribute to our salvation; but transactions like these do not tend to make us wiser or better. It is to the Christian church, and to its principles and practice, therefore, that these descriptions refer; and as they relate to the general body, they apply to every individual of which that body is composed, and thus demand our most serious attention. The principal symbol used in these prophecies is, "the sun;" and this is said to "become black," and to be "turned into darkness." Our first inquiry, therefore, is, what principle in the spiritual world of Christianity, corresponds with this luminary in the world of matter. And in this inquiry we shall be aided, if we consider the functions it performs. The sun is the source of all natural heat and splendor; and without his influence, the worlds in the solar system, now glowing in light and beauty, would be dead and unattractive masses of matter. He is the cause of all vegetable and animal life: deprived of his beams, vegetation would decay, and the animal kingdom sink in death. He is the principal agent in the production of sight; the eye without him, would be a useless organ. In a word, if we were called upon to name the most important agent in the material world, our thoughts would turn at once to the sun. Now, in the spiritual world, including both the church of God and the individual spirit of man, what is that which produces the same effects as the natural sun does in the system of matter? What is the source of love and wisdom, spiritual heat and spiritual light?--What is it that produces in the mind those fruits of righteousness which are the characteristics of true religion? What gives to reason (the eye of the mind) its power of discerning spiritual things? and invests the soul, naturally dark and lifeless, with spiritual life and glory? It is Divine Love that does this. This is the Sun of the spiritual universe,--the Fountain of all heavenly light and life,--the Cause of every good word and work. And in giving this meaning to the natural image, we are supported throughout by the Sacred Scripture. The Lord is called "the Sun," and, "the Sun of Righteousness." He is said to _rise_ upon the mind, when the spirit turns itself toward Him; and to _turn away_ from man, when he departs from his Maker. In the same manner, whenever the prophets or apostles were favored with a visible representation of the Divine Majesty, they describe the face of God as shining like _the sun_. Now the face of God is his Love. Hence the Psalmist says, "Lift upon us _the light of thy countenance_, and cause thy face to shine upon us." And this love of God is described as the sun, rising, shining, and giving light. Thus, too, in the visions of John, when the apostle beheld an image of the pure church of Christ, he describes her as "a woman _clothed with the sun_;" or encompassed on every side by the Divine Love. By the sun, then, in the internal sense of prophecy, we understand the infinite and unbounded love of the Almighty, which alone is the cause of life and light; and which gives strength, support, and beauty, to the spiritual system of man. Having obtained the meaning of this principal symbol, we shall be at no loss to determine that of the other. "_The moon_," as regards apparent splendor, is the second great luminary in the visible heavens. In herself, however, she is a dark body, and possesses no power of communicating light except by the reflection of the sun's beams. In this case, therefore, we have to seek a second principle in the heaven of the church, corresponding with this second light in the heaven of matter; a principle which, though it enlightens and cheers the soul, has no brightness in itself; but derives all its usefulness and beauty from a conjunction with LOVE. And this principle we find in FAITH; that faith which springs from charity. As the moon derives all her light from the sun, so does true faith draw all its glory from love. As the moon separated from the sun's influence, is dark and lifeless, so is faith without love, dead and useless. And as the light proceeding from the moon is but the rays of the sun reflected from her surface, so is the faith that springs from a modification of the love of God, a reflection of his infinite benevolence. And here, again, the apostle confirms this idea. While he represents the church of God as being _clothed with the Sun_, he also describes her as standing upon the moon, or having "the moon under her feet:"--pointing out the love with which she is continually encompassed, and the faith upon which she is securely founded. Thus Paul, speaking of the universal church of Christ, declares that it is "built upon the _foundation_ of the apostles and prophets:"--that is, upon their doctrines, and upon the truth which they made known; "Jesus Christ Himself," as THE TRUTH Itself, being "the chief corner stone." Eph. ii. 20. With this, too, agrees the sublime prophecy of Isaiah. When speaking of the church restored to its full perfection and glory, he says, "_Thy sun_ shall no more go down, neither shall thy _moon_ withdraw herself; for JEHOVAH shall be thine EVERLASTING LIGHT and the days of thy mourning shall be ended." ix. 20. That is: Thy love shall no more depart, neither shall thy faith and charity decay; for God shall dwell in every soul by his love, and his beams shall be reflected from every bosom. We might go through the whole of those predictions which relate to this subject; and in all cases we should find that this interpretation of the figures not only makes a complete and consistent sense, but that the passages so interpreted would stand in the most complete agreement with the general tenor of the Scriptures, and with the hopes of the best and wisest among men. The third symbolic figure is, "the stars:" and these, as regards the quantity of light transmitted to the earth, are secondary luminaries in the visible system. They shine not with any borrowed radiance, but with their own native splendor. And here, again, we must repeat the inquiry, what are those luminaries in the _mental heaven_, which hold a secondary place in the concern of salvation, to love and faith; yet shine, not with reflected light, but with the real brightness of the Divine Glory? The answer is easy: They are the doctrines of religion or the _knowledges_ of truth;--those portions of the eternal reason, which THE MANIFESTED TRUTH has Himself revealed. But some may be ready to observe, that these are already included in the Faith of which I have just spoken. A single remark, however, will obviate this objection. That FAITH and the _knowledge of truth_ generally go together, is certainly true,--even as the moon and stars shine at the same time. But to _know_ the truth is one thing, and to have faith in God is another and widely different thing; as different as the light of the stars is from that of the moon. And as the stars frequently shine when the moon is not seen, so does the knowledge of truth frequently exist in the mind when true faith has no existence. I am, therefore, consistent in declaring that the _light_ of the stars,--the knowledge of doctrines, though a valuable acquisition, is secondary in importance both to Christian _faith_ and to Divine _Love_. Yet the doctrines or truths which are the objects of this knowledge, are not derived from any source lower than divinity itself; they are, as just observed, portions of eternal wisdom designed for the guidance of the church of God; and derived from the "Father of lights," from whom proceeds "every good and every perfect gift." In thus mentioning _doctrines_, (or the term which I have used as synonymous, _truths_, for pure doctrines are but truths embodied) I by no means refer to the tenets of a sect or party, but to the eternal wisdom of the Almighty, as revealed in his word: and with respect to this, the parallel between it and the natural image may be carried through all its parts. As the stars are of the same nature with the sun, and like him shine with their native and proper light, so is the wisdom of God of the same nature with his love; both being essential attributes of Divinity. As the stars, however, though in themselves splendid bodies, communicate no heat to the earth, and are but of secondary importance in comparison with the sun and moon, so does the mere knowledge of truths, (although the truths in themselves possess the nature of divinity,) leave the soul as cold and lifeless as before; and is of far less importance in the spiritual system than the love of God, or faith, its reflection on the soul. Carry the comparison as far as we may, still the stars of the natural heaven correspond exactly to the _truths_ of the church; and the light which they emit, to the _knowledge_ of that truth. And this interpretation of the symbol agrees, too, with the vision of the apostle. The church clothed with the Sun of love, and standing upon faith; the symbolic _moon_ had upon her head (the seat of intelligence and wisdom) a crown of twelve _stars_;--denoting the knowledges of pure truth which should ornament that church in her last state of peace and holiness. So the great red dragon, who is described as fighting with Michael and his angels, is said to have drawn the third part of the stars from heaven;--pointing out the almost total extinction of real truth in the corrupted Christian churches. We might again trace this meaning in every passage where the natural image occurs, and we should still find that the sense it gives to each of them is consistent both with the Word of God, as referring to the great concern of salvation, and with the connexion in which the passages are found. In these symbolic representations we, therefore, perceive the three sources of light in the Christian heaven, love, faith, and knowledge. The first being the diffused affection of the Father of spirits; the second, its reflection in the soul of man; the third, the truths of doctrine which enliven and ornament the church, proceeding immediately from the Source of all Wisdom. The glory of each is the same in substance, as the light of the sun, moon, and stars, is the same in nature; but it differs in degree, as the luminary whence it springs is of more or less importance to the eternal happiness of man. Knowledge is the least important; of itself merely, it produces nothing. Faith rises above knowledge; yet even faith by itself is useless. Love is the chief; this quickens, animates, and renders fruitful, the church of God, and the soul of each individual member. I press this interpretation on no one; yet I may say, without breaking the bounds of Christian liberty, that it carries probability on its very face. The parallel between the natural image and its spiritual correspondent, is complete throughout; but this can by no means be said of the various constructions which have generally been put upon them. The sun, it is said, is the civil government of a state; and the moon, its ecclesiastical policy. But in vain shall we attempt to draw a comparison here between the natural figure and the object said to be signified by it. The civil government of an empire is not the source of all wisdom, love, and prosperity, as the sun is of heat, light, and fruitfulness. It does not give to the ecclesiastical all its power, glory, and beauty, as the sun does to the moon; nor would the church become dead and lifeless if separated from the state, as the moon would if severed from the sun. The pastors of the church, which it is affirmed are the stars, do not, like the stars, shine with their own native splendor. The comparison, therefore, does not in any degree hold good: while in the meaning we have given above, consistency both with Scripture and reason, as well as with the best interests of man, is preserved throughout. Now if this signification of the sun, moon, and stars, be correct, we need not employ much time in fixing the meaning of the terms "heaven," and "earth," when applied to the church of God. _Heaven_, or the atmosphere, is that in which the sun, moon, and stars appear; and by means of which they produce their effects. It is the grand reservoir of those particles, which, acted upon by the sun, and thus set in motion, cause heat; and preserve on the earth, life and vegetation. And the earth is that body, on the surface of which vegetation flourishes and life appears. This at once points out the figures as applying to the _inward feelings_ and _outward life_ of an _individual_; or, to the internal state of the church and its outward forms and ceremonies. It is in what the apostle calls "the inward man," that _love_, _faith_, and _knowledge_ produce their first effects; and by operating upon the feelings and affections of the mind, cause spiritual light and heat--true wisdom and divine love. And these produce a corresponding effect in the outward conduct, bringing forth "fruits meet for repentance,"--the living forms and witnesses of religion. As the sun shines in the atmosphere and produces fruit on the earth, so love shines in the soul and brings forth effects in the conduct, either in the case of an individual, or of the church as an assembly of individuals. By the same rule of analogy we may perceive what is meant by _the clouds_. These in the natural world, are vapors exhaled from the earth by the heat of the sun; and which condensed into form in the atmosphere, serve to perform their important functions. They temper and lessen in some degree the heat of the sun; they serve to beautify the appearance of the heavens; they are the great depository of rain, and the principal agents in the production of tempests. That which corresponds to them must, therefore, be something springing from the outward state of man, which is the grand depository of truth (spiritual water), behind which the glory of the Divine Love and Wisdom is seen, and which accommodates this wisdom to the capacity of mankind. And this we find in the outward letter of the Word of God. The historical narratives, the figures of prophecy, the parables of the Saviour, are all images rising from the world and the temporal state of mankind; and thus, like the _clouds_, they have their origin from the earth. Within this outward body of image and narrative are contained the treasures of wisdom and knowledge; it is the grand source from which truth must be drawn. And the glory of God shines through the whole, imparting to every natural form the splendor of divinity. And as the material images of the Bible serve to accommodate the wisdom of God to the capacity of his creatures, so have they often been the cause of those convulsions in the church, which seemed even to threaten her existence. "The _letter_" has often killed, when unaccompanied in the mind with the "_spirit_ which giveth life." We cannot, therefore, find in the figure before us anything which so completely accords with its origin and design, as the outward letter of the Word of God--the clouds of the Christian heaven. The meaning of the principal symbols being thus stated, we pass to the connexion which they bear to each other in the predictions of the Saviour. We have already noted that the prophecy contained in Matthew, and recorded by the other Evangelists, refers in its primary application to the destruction of Jerusalem by the Roman armies; but in its more extensive meaning it points to the state of the Christian church in her period of decline and corruption, of which Jerusalem in her last days was a fitting type. With respect to this it is declared "_the sun_ shall be darkened"--the Divine Love obscured and lost; "and the moon shall not give her light"--faith and charity shall sink in darkness; "and the stars"--the knowledge of truth "shall fall from heaven,"--no longer exist in the minds of her members; "and the powers of heaven"--the whole internal state of the church "shall be shaken"--shall be thrown into complete disorder and confusion. This meaning, to which we are led by the connexion and correspondence of the natural symbols, points to a time (not when the universe shall be destroyed, but) when true religion shall have ceased to exist in the church:--"when the love of many shall wax cold:" when true faith will no longer be found; and when knowledge--the knowledge of genuine spiritual truth--shall have passed away. The same things are described in the vision of the apostle. "There was a great earthquake"--a shaking and disorder in the state of the church; "and the sun became black as sackcloth of hair, and the moon became as blood, and the stars of heaven fell to the earth,"--the knowledge of truth which once shone in the _mind_, sunk into mere outward _creeds_ and confessions of faith; "and the heaven departed as a scroll when it is rolled together"--the whole internal state of the church was thrown into confusion, and every inward feeling of religion perished. The event immediately following is the appearance of the Son of Man in the clouds, with a trumpet; and since it is confessed that a trumpet signifies "the call of the Gospel," or as I would express it, the manifestation of truth; and as the _clouds_ correspond to the _outward form_ of the Word, the appearance of the Lord in the clouds and attended by trumpets, must signify the manifestation of spiritual love and truth in the letter of Scripture: and this is supported by what is afterwards said to be the consequence; "a new heaven and a new earth,"--a new state of the church both internal and external, both as regards inward feelings and outward conduct. That this interpretation is true, I call upon no one to believe; but that it is probable will, I think, be confessed by all; and that it is in perfect harmony with the infinite designs of God toward his rational creatures, as well as with his character as a Being of infinite Love, will be equally acknowledged. Whether there has been a period in the Christian church (as there certainly was in the Jewish) when the above description was applicable to her; when religion had sunk into mere formality; when bigotry and intolerance both in priests and people, cut up charity by the roots; when faith was a mere body from which the spirit had departed; when the clergy were mere formalists, and the people were sensualized; when sacred knowledge was neglected by the one and unknown to the other: whether, I say, such a period _has_ yet arrived, and if so, whether it was _eighty_ years ago, or eight hundred, it is not my province now to inquire. My object is to show that the images used by the sacred penmen have reference to such a state, and to a subsequent restoration; and this I have shown by the rule or law of analogy existing between spiritual and natural things, as well as by the grand design of the Word of God in which those images occur. And if it be probable that such is really the fact, then the design with which I commenced my task is completed. If the natural sense of the words of Scripture is absurd--if the best commentators themselves admit that in their outward application the words have no reference to the destruction of the natural world--and if, considered in their internal meaning, they relate to the church, its decline, and restoration; then there is no proof in the Scriptures of the dissolution of the visible universe; but strong evidence that it will never take place. Let us, however, before leaving the subject, take a hasty glance at the two doctrines which have been presented. The first declares that after creating the universe, and endowing it with life and beauty; after forming man as a candidate for eternal glory, and after raising up a church which it is said was to endure "for ever," God will at a future time (for what reason, or to answer what purpose, is unknown,) destroy the fabric he has created; throw the whole universe into confusion and reduce it to ashes. That He will, for some reason equally unknown, put an end to the human race, and no more bring rational creatures to eternal happiness; that heaven will be closed, and not another candidate admitted; and that the church will then cease on earth, and never again be restored. And this supposition is founded on vague and mysterious texts of Scripture, and on a literal interpretation of figures which the most learned confess they cannot comprehend. The other doctrine maintains that God, having created the world and peopled it with inhabitants, will continue it in existence; and that though religion will in the "latter ages" decline, yet at length "the Lord will appear in the brightness of his glory," will destroy evil and false-hood among men,--restore the world to its first state of purity; and that it shall then for ever become one vast temple, from which a ceaseless song of praise shall continually arise; while its inhabitants, prepared and preparing for a higher state, shall pass in succession into the eternal rest of God; and that the earth shall therefore be a nursery for glory,--a place of trial for a continual race of candidates for heaven. This is a consummation worthy of the Creator,--worthy of the infinity of his nature and perfections,--worthy of the plan of redemption which He became incarnate to effect. It is agreeable to the dictates of the soundest reason, and in accordance with the hopes and wishes of every man who has not bowed down his reason to the idol of popular opinion. While the opposite tenet sets reason at defiance, makes the Bible teach what is practically absurd, and stands in opposition to the opinion of some of the most learned among its own advocates. We cannot conclude this little treatise more appropriately than in the words of a writer often quoted in these pages. "The doctrines or principles which I have stated and defended in this work, I believe to be the truths of God. Those against which I have argued, I believe to be either false or unproved. The doctrine which cannot stand the test of rational investigation, cannot be true. We have gone too far when we have said 'such and such doctrines should not be subjected to rational investigation, being doctrines of pure revelation.' I know no such doctrine in the Bible. The doctrines of the Scripture are doctrines of _eternal reason_; and they are revealed because they _are such_. Human reason could not have found them out; but when revealed, reason can both apprehend and comprehend them. It sees their perfect harmony among themselves, their agreement with the perfections of the Divine Nature, and their sovereign suitableness to the nature and state of man: thus reason approves and applauds. Some men cannot reason, and therefore they declaim against reason, and proscribe it in the examination of religious truth." Men may incorporate their doctrines in _creeds_, or articles of faith, and sing them in _hymns_; and this may be both useful and edifying if the doctrines be _true_. But in every question which involves the eternal interests of man, the _Holy Scriptures_ must be appealed to in union with _reason_ their great commentator. He who forms his _creed_ or _confession of faith_ without these, may believe anything or nothing, as the cunning of others or his own caprice may dictate. Human creeds and confessions have been often put in the place of the Bible, to the dishonor both of revelation and reason. Let _those_ go away, let these be retained, whatever be the consequence. [1] See on this subject, "The Plenary Inspiration of the Scriptures asserted," by Rev. S. Noble:--a work well worthy the perusal of every Christian, and which deserves a place in every library. [2] See Wesley's Sermons. Sermon xv. "preached before the Hon. Sir Edward Clive, one of the judges of his Majesty's court of common pleas, in St. Paul's Church, Bedford, on Friday, March 10, 1758." [3] Dr. Clarke has a very curious note on this passage. He supposes that the "noise" will be occasioned by the action of electric fire, on the watery particles of the atmosphere. These, being divided into their two component _gases_, the one will ascend into the higher regions, and the other float on the earth's surface. Thus, he says, the account of the apostle is "philosophically correct." Whether this be the _apostle_, or whether such account is correct in any degree, let common sense judge. [4] This passage in its mere outward application, refers to a temporal overthrow in the land of Idumea; it has also, however, an acknowledged relation to the triumphs of the Gospel, and the overthrow of its enemies. Still, it makes little difference in the strength of the argument, to which event it is referred. Such descriptions have been given, they have been fulfilled, yet in no case literally. This is all that need be proved. [5] See Sir Isaac Newton,--Locke,--Dr. A. Clarke,--Burkitt, etc. [6] See Dr. Adam Clarke's remark upon this passage. [7] Birkitt's Notes on the New Testament. 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52414	----	THE CHRISTIAN MYTHOLOGY. BY BRIGHAM LEATHERBEE "Knowledge is power, but ignorance is the mother of devotion." New York: THE TRUTH SEEKER COMPANY, 62 Vesey Street. CONTENTS. I. The Virgin Birth. II. Pagan Miracles. III. Spurious Relics. IV. Trial and Execution Myths. V. Distorted Prophecies. VI. The Resurrection. VII. Miracles. VIII. Atonement and Salvation by Faith. IX. The Trinity--Mariolatry. X. Saints--Good and Evil Spirits. XI. Religious Holidays and Rites. XII. The Eucharist. XIII. Spread of Christianity. THE CHRISTIAN MYTHOLOGY. That Christianity, as to-day presented by the orthodox, is far different from the Christianity promulgated by the early fathers, few are so blinded as to doubt. Christianity, like all other religions, came not into the world full-grown, but from the simple conceptions of its early followers became gradually elaborated by the introduction of pagan forms and customs until it supplanted its early rivals and gave its adherents a compact and solid theology not very different from that of its predecessors. However, before considering the genealogy of Christianity, or its heirlooms from paganism, let us turn our attention to what were presumably the beginnings of the religious views of mankind. Probably the true source of that human characteristic which is defined as the religious instinct and which is supposed to be an elevating and moral agent, is to be found in the superstition which originated in fear of the unknown. The first ages of human life were so devoted to the animal needs that little attention was given to anything else, but later the craving for protection and help from some power greater than himself led primitive man to look about him for something to sustain and aid him in his struggle for existence. Surrounded by natural phenomena of which he could give no explanation satisfactory to his experience, he came to the conclusion that he was in an environment permeated with bodiless intelligences who governed these matters by supernatural power. Awed to fear by the inexplicable workings of nature, he sought to propitiate the spiritual agencies by bribes, and he did all things for them which he thought would be agreeable to them to keep them in good-natured interest or indifference toward him. And, naturally, he considered that what would be pleasing to himself would be pleasing to them. Therefore, his offerings and his conduct towards these spirits were such as he would have desired shown toward himself. Death and its imitation, sleep, being the greatest mysteries confronting him, he naturally began to consider the spirits of the dead, with whom he seemed to have intercourse in his dreams, as being influential factors in his career; and thus originated ancestor-worship with its highly-developed rites and sacrifices, which in a modified form still exists in the Roman church in the practice of reading masses for the souls of the dead. At the same time, noticing the great benefits derived from the warmth of the sun, to whose rays he owed his subsistence and whose glorious and awful presence was constantly before him, man began to feel grateful to that mighty power which was the source of all his welfare, and, appreciating that all terrestrial life depended upon it, he came to recognize it as the great creative power. From such superstitious fear and weakness of primitive man arose all those religious feelings which the pious call instinctive and which have, through progress, evolution, and elaboration, controlled certain races, and from whose union have arisen all the religious systems that have ever flourished. Owing to the varied influences of climate, environment, and racial character, the various forms of worship predominating in different geographical situations have naturally assumed different characteristics, but, when stripped of their surrounding, and often enveloping rites, ceremonies, and superficialities they may all be traced to the above-mentioned fundamental sources. It is my intention to show, as briefly as possible, that in the Christianity of to-day we have nothing new nor of vital difference from what has always been taught and believed in the many epochs of the past. In common with all religious systems, Christianity has a hero--the personified sun-god of all time--who is of obscure origin, who passes through various episodes common to all, who is finally executed, and who rises once more to renewed power. In our perusal of the subject, we shall first consider the life of Jesus as taught by the Christian church; secondly, the dogmas affecting the source of his power and the results of his influence; and, thirdly, the rites and ceremonies with which his worship is performed. I--THE VIRGIN BIRTH. Some two thousand years ago there is said to have appeared in the notoriously rebellious province of Galilee, the headquarters of Hebrew radicalism, a wandering teacher called Jesus, who passed from village to village expounding certain ethical and socialistic ideas, which were condemned by the Roman government and which resulted in this man's arrest and subsequent execution. After his death, his various pupils continued to preach his theories, and, separating, spread these ideas over various parts of the then civilized world. These pupils, naturally, having a firm belief in their former leader, and desiring to strengthen in every possible manner their faith as well as to increase the number of their proselytes, and, also, being themselves more or less affected by the ancient messianic idea, did not deny Jesus more than mortal powers, and allowed certain pagan theories of deity to creep into their faith. Later, when the vicious and crafty Constantine found it advisable for political reasons to adopt Christianity as the state religion, the great mass of Roman worshipers merely transferred the attributes of their ancient deities to the objects venerated by the new sect. There was nothing new in bestowing a divine origin on Jesus. All the lesser gods of antiquity were the sons of Zeus, and, in later times, monarchs were accorded the same origin. It was a common myth of all ancient peoples that numerous beings derived their birth from other than natural causes. Virgins gave birth to sons without aid of men. Zeus produced offspring without female assistance. Almost all the extraordinary men that lived under the old heathen mythology were reputed to have been the sons of some of the gods. The doctrine of the virgin birth is perhaps one of the oldest of religious ideas; it is so universal that its origin is impossible to trace. Therefore, no wonder is excited when we find that most of the religious leaders have been of celestial origin. Krishna, the Indian savior, was born of a chaste virgin called Devaki, who, on account of her purity, was selected to become the mother of God. Gautama Buddha was born of the virgin Maya and "mercifully left Paradise and came down to earth because he was filled with compassion for the sins and miseries of mankind. He sought to lead them into better paths, and took their sufferings upon himself that he might expiate their crimes and mitigate the punishment they must otherwise inevitably undergo." The great father of gods and men sent a messenger from heaven to the Mexican virgin, Sochiquetzal, to inform her that it was the will of the gods that she should immaculately conceive a son. As a result she bore Quetzalcoatl, the Mexican savior, who "set his face against all forms of violence and bloodshed, and encouraged the arts of peace." The Mexican god Huitzilopochtli was likewise immaculately conceived by a woman who, while walking in a temple, beheld a ball of feathers descending in the air. She grasped this and placed it in her bosom. It gradually disappeared and her pregnancy resulted. The Mexican Montezumas were later supposed to have been immaculately conceived by a drop of dew falling on the exposed breast of the mother as she lay asleep. The Siamese have a virgin-born god and savior whom they call Codom; the Chinese have several virgin-born gods, one being the result of his mother's having become impregnated by merely treading on the toe-print of God; while the Egyptians bowed in worship before the shrine of Horus, son of the virgin Isis. Setting aside the mythological interpretation of the miraculous conception of Jesus and the theory that his history is entirely fictitious, and viewing his birth from a natural human standpoint, even admitting that he may have been a "divinely inspired man," a little better than any other human being, there seems to be only one explanation for his peculiar conception as recorded in Luke i. Some critics of the rational school have not failed to notice a solution of the problem in the appearance of the angel Gabriel and his private interview with Mary (Luke i, 28-38). Say they very pertinently, why may not some libidinous young man, having become enamoured of the youthful wife of the aged Joseph, and, knowing the prophecy of the messiah, have visited the object of his desire in angelic guise and, having won her confidence in this rôle, gained those favors that produced the miraculous birth? And such an explanation is not improbable when we consider that it is an historical fact that young and confiding women often resorted to the pagan temples at the instigation of the unscrupulous, where they enjoyed the embraces of ardent but previously unsuccessful lovers, under the impression that they were being favored by deities. So those Christians whose reasoning powers will not allow them to believe in the absurdity of an unnatural conception, and whose superstitious adoration will not permit of their believing Mary guilty of an intentional faux pas, try in this manner to reconcile the two, and declare Joseph the guilty man. According to the Gospels, Joseph, the husband, knowing Mary to be with child, married her (Matt. i, 18); but that is no reason for believing that he regarded the Holy Ghost's responsibility for his wife's condition with faith. He told of a dream in which he had been informed that such was the case (Matt. i, 20-23). He may have believed the dream, and he may not. The most sensible view is that he, "being a just man," took this method of preserving her reputation, and that he himself was the actual parent. Having betrayed the girl, he honestly married her, but, to defend her and himself from the accusation of a serious misdemeanor among the Jews (Deut. xxii), he invented the dream story to account for her unfortunate condition. Girls have ever told improbable stories to explain like misfortunes. Danæ concocted the shower of gold yarn; Leda preferred to accuse herself of bestiality with a swan to acknowledging a lover, and Europa blamed a bull. Modern damsels have invented more modern but just as innocent agents. It would seem from the subsequent actions and words of Mary that she must have forgotten that her son was miraculously conceived of God, for we find her reproaching him for remaining in the temple of Jerusalem to argue with the rabbis with, "Son, why hast thou thus dealt with us? Behold, thy father and I have sought thee sorrowing" (Luke ii, 48). Again, when Simeon and Anna proclaimed the messiahship of Jesus (Luke ii, 25-32; 36-38), we are told that "Joseph and his mother marveled at those things which were spoken of him" (Luke ii, 33). This would hardly have been the case had they already known him as "the Son of the Highest, who shall reign over the house of Jacob forever" (Luke i, 32-33). Neither would Mary, had she realized that she was the mother of God, have considered it necessary to resort to the temple (Luke ii, 22-24) to be purified from the stains of her childbirth. Women, having borne natural children, were considered to have become defiled in the act of parturition, through the contact of the perpetually active agency of original sin, whereof they must be purified. The mere fact of her submitting to such a churching is evidence that Mary did not know that she had done anything remarkable in bearing Jesus, and was ignorant of an unusual conception. Their neighbors, despite the dream, always recognized Jesus as Joseph's son (Matt. xii, 55; Luke iv, 22; John ii, 45; vi, 42; Nicodemus i, 2). The orthodox explain this on the supposition that Joseph and Mary kept all these things in their hearts, and did not tell the actual facts of the case, which seems unlikely. Joseph would want to explain the early birth of Jesus, and Mary would be desirous of saving her reputation, and both would naturally boast of the honor conferred by the Holy Ghost, had they known of it, for in such case Joseph's relation to his god was the same as that of the peasant to his seigneur in the days of the jus primæ noctis. The liaison was an honor, and would have been related to save Jesus from the disagreeable allusions made by his neighbors regarding his birth (John viii, 41). Conforming to the narrations of the miraculous conception in Luke, Mary, and the Protevangelion, is an old miracle play called "Joseph's Jealousy," in which we find a very natural picture of the good old husband discovering a condition in his wife for which he is not responsible and accusing her in plain old English of adorning his brow with antlers. The following is the dialogue as given in Hone's "Ancient Mysteries Described": Jos. Say me, Mary, this childys fadyr who is? I pry the telle me, and that anon? Mry. The Fadyr of hevyn, & se, it is, Other fadyr hath he non. To which Joseph very naturally replies in a burst of anger: Jos. Goddys childe! thou lyist, in fay! God dede nevyr rape so with may. But yit I say, Mary whoos childe is this? Mry. Goddys and your, I sey, I wys. Then in wrath at her obstinacy he breaks forth: Jos. Ya, ya! all olde men, to me take tent, & weddyth no wyff, in no kynnys wyse. Alas! Alas! my name is shent; All men may me now dyspyse, & seyn olde cokwold. Mary tries to explain and says that her child is from God alone and that she was so informed by an angel. The suspicious Joseph will not be deceived, and gives way to some words that have since been accepted as a true explanation of the miraculous conception: Jos. An A'gel! alas, alas! fy for schame! Ye syn now, in that ye to say; To puttyn an A'ngel in so gret blame. Alas, alas! let be do way; It was s'n boy began this game, That closhyd was clene and gay, & ye geve hym now an A'ngel name. The old prophecy in Isaiah (vii, 14) that a virgin shall bear a son loses its utility when we recognize that this was the sign given Ahaz that God would preserve his kingdom, although he was then threatened by a coalition of the kings of Ephraim and Syria. If the prophecy referred to the Christ, how could it have any influence on Ahaz? How could he be calmed and made to preserve his courage in the face of danger by a sign which would not be given until centuries after he slept with his fathers? But such was not the case. Isaiah made his sign appear as he had promised (vii, 16), "Before the child shall know to refuse evil, and choose the good, the land that thou abhorrest shall be forsaken of both her kings" (the rulers of Israel and Syria). Now, this prophecy was fulfilled, either by the trickery of the prophet or the compliance of a virgin, for we find in the next chapter (Isaiah viii, 3), "And I went unto the prophetess; and she conceived and bare a son." And that is the whole story. To apply it to the mythical birth of Jesus is puerile. No one can doubt that so good a Jew as Josephus believed in the prospect of a messiah, yet so little did Isaiah's prophecy impress him that he did not even mention the virgin episode. Probably, on the whole, he thought it a rather contemptible bit of trickery and rather detrimental to the memory of Isaiah. James Orr, in his treatise written expressly to prove the historical fact of the virgin birth, denies that the prophecy of Isaiah could be applied to Jesus. Here we have an orthodox writer who firmly believes in the miraculous conception, shattering the great cornerstone of the church's foundation for this belief. He says that the word "almah" was not Hebrew for virgin at all, but meant only a marriageable young woman. He says it can have no connection with Jesus, and thus he agrees with Thomas Paine, but for opposite reasons. While Orr evidently considers that all pagan tales of divine paternity are legends, he affirms that the case of Jesus is genuine. Just why God became Deus Genetrix only once, he does not explain. If God approved of this method of creation, he would surely have performed it more than once. That he should have chosen a woman at all seems strange, when he could have produced Jesus without female assistance. Why should he have given his son, coexistent with the father, and, as such, undoubtedly of a fully developed intelligence, all the discomfort and danger of infantile life? If Jesus were but another phase of the godhead, one of the divine eternal trinity, it was degrading and ridiculous to have inflicted him with the processes of foetal life, with all the embryonic phases of development from ovule, through vertebrate and lower form to human guise; to have given him the dangers of human gestation and parturition, the inconvenience of childhood, with teething and other infantile discomforts, and the slow years of growth. Why did he inflict all these things on a part, a third, of himself, in many years of preparation for but a few years of preaching, when he could have produced the Christ in a wonderful manner, full grown in all the beauty and dignity and strength of perfect and sublime manhood? Probably some will answer that then Jesus would have been regarded as an impostor. But no more doubt could be cast on such an appearance than has been thrown on the doubtful story of the purity of Mary. Orr, in his haste to prove his belief, gives a very good argument against it (page 82) in the words, "The idea of a Virgin birth ... was one entirely foreign to Jewish habits of thought, which honored marriage, and set no premium on virginity." Therefore, it could not have been of Jewish origin. The Jews never accepted it, and it grew up only under the influence of Gentile converts. It was an idea of classic paganism, an adoption of universal phallism, this conception of a divine impregnation. The doctrine that by conjunction with a woman, God begat the Christ is merely another phase of the phallic idea of the procreative principles of the deity--it is another form of the deus genetrix, the generative principle of male procreation. II.--PAGAN PARALLELS. The orthodox church denies that the Christ had any brothers and declares that Jesus was the only child of Mary, in spite of gospel testimony to the contrary. Matthew i, 25, referring to Joseph, says, "And he knew her not till she had brought forth her first-born son," which implies that after his birth marital relations began between Joseph and Mary, from which other children were born, for how, otherwise, could Jesus have been the "first-born"? That Jesus had both brothers and sisters is declared in Matthew xii, 46; xiii, 55, 56; Mark iii, 31; vi, 3; Luke viii, 19-20; John ii, 12; vii, 3, 5, 10, and Acts i, 14, while Paul in Galatians i, 19, expressly names "James, the Lord's brother." As the veneration for Mary increased under the influence of the pagan conceptions of an immaculate mother-queen of heaven, these simple and natural consequences of her marriage could not be tolerated, even allowing for the exceptional conception of Jesus, and the orthodox began to assert that Mary was not only an uncontaminated virgin at the birth of Jesus, but that by miracle she did not lose her virginity by that event. They attempted to explain the above references, first, by asserting that these children were of Joseph by a previous marriage, and later, when they felt it necessary to endow the consort of their pure mother with perfect celibacy, they named them as cousins only. Jerome was so strong a champion for Joseph's virginity that he considered Epiphanius guilty of impious invention for supporting the earlier belief regarding Jesus' brethren. The Buddhists were far wiser than the Christians and eluded all such difficulties by causing Maya to die seven days after the birth of Sakyamuni, and by asserting such to have been the case with all the mothers of the Buddhas. At the time of Jesus' birth a brilliant star is believed to have heralded the event, and has passed into tradition as "the star of Bethlehem." There is nothing novel in this idea, as all ancient peoples were very superstitious about the celestial bodies, firmly believing in astronomical influences on human affairs, and it seems to have been a common idea that the births of great men were announced by the presence of peculiar stars. In China, a new star appeared at the birth of Yu, founder of the first dynasty, as was also the case when the sage Laoutze was born, while in Mexico the "morning star" was the symbol of the national savior Quetzalcoatl. The primitive Christians, however, did not have to look so far for such an idea, but easily found a parallel in the unusual star reported by the friends of Terah to have appeared on the night of Abraham's birth, which they said shone so brightly in the east. Not only was the birth of the messiah announced by the brilliant star, but it was also celebrated by the singing of the heavenly host. Similar phenomena occurred at the birth of Krishna, when "the clouds emitted low pleasing sounds and poured down a rain of flowers." On the eve of the birth of Confucius "celestial music sounded in the ears of his mother"; at Buddha's a "marvelous light illumined the earth"; and at the birth of Osiris a voice was heard proclaiming that the ruler of the earth was born. The savior having been born, he must necessarily be recognized, so the myth of the wise men and their gifts follows--in a fashion very similar to that told of the other saviors. The marvelous infant Buddha was visited at the time of his birth by wise men who immediately recognized in him all the characteristics of divinity. At the time of Confucius' birth "five celestial sages entered the house whilst vocal and instrumental music filled the air." Mithras, the Persian savior, was visited by wise men called magi at the time of his birth, and was presented by them with gifts of gold, frankincense and myrrh; and the same story is told by Plato in relation to the birth of Socrates. While it is claimed for all the world's saviors that they were borne by virgins and begotten by God, genealogies of royal descent are traced for them through the husbands of their mothers in a most illogical manner. As may be seen in the New Testament, the pedigree of Jesus is most elaborately set forth in both Matthew and Luke, who claim that through Joseph (whose parentage is denied) the Christ was a direct descendant of King David, though, strange to relate, the connecting generations are different in one inspired gospel from what they are in the other. Krishna, in the male line, was of royal descent, being of the house of Yadava, the oldest and noblest of India; and Buddha was descended from Maha Sammata, the first monarch of the world. Therefore, it is not surprising to find a royal pedigree for the god Christ, especially when the religious position occupied by the king in rude societies is considered. The Kaffres acknowledge no other gods than their monarch, and to him they address those prayers which other nations are wont to prefer to the supreme deity. Every schoolboy knows of the apotheosis of the Roman emperors, and the monarchs of Mexico and Peru were regarded as divinities. Every king of Egypt was added to the list of gods and declared to be the son of Ra, and even, in some cases, was made the third person of a trinity. Each denied that he owed his birth to the father from whom he inherited the crown, and claimed to have been miraculously begotten. Special temples were erected for the worship of the kings, which was conducted by special priests. The Parthian rulers of the Arsacid house, likewise, claimed divinity and styled themselves brothers of the sun and moon. The fable of the slaughter of the innocents, which was merely a new form of the ancient myth of the dangerous child whose life is a constant menace to some tyrant, was copied from several ancient religions, and the flight of the holy family into Egypt has its counterpart in other tales. King Kansa sought the life of Krishna and sent messengers to kill all infants in the neighboring places, but a heavenly voice warned his foster-father to fly with him across the river Jumna, which was immediately done. Salivahana, a virgin-born savior anciently worshiped in southern India, had a similar experience; and fable tells that at Abraham's birth Nimrod sought his life, fearing a prophecy that a child was born who should overthrow his power, and, as a result, he murdered 70,000 newly-born male children. At the time of Moses' birth, Pharaoh is said to have dreamed that a new-born child would cause Egypt's ruin, and he ordered that all the new-born sons of Israel should be cast into the Nile. Similar stories, familiar to all readers of the classics, are told of Perseus, Herakles, Paris, Jason, Bacchus, Romulus and Remus. All these tales of the birth and early life of Jesus are similar to those of the other and more ancient saviors, and so is the story of the temptation and the forty days' fast. Moses fasted "forty days and forty nights" on the mount where he received the law (Ex. xxiv, 18; xxxiv, 28; Deut. ix, 9, 11). Elijah fasted "forty days and forty, nights" on Mt. Horeb (I Kings xix, 8). Joachim, in shame at being childless, retired to the wilderness for a fast of "forty days and forty nights" (Protevangelion i, 6, 7). Buddha fasted and held his breath until he became extremely weak, when Mara, Prince of Evil, appeared and tempted him to break his fast by offering to make him emperor of the world. Quetzalcoatl was also tempted by the devil during a forty days' fast; and the temptation of Zoroaster forms the subject of many legends. All these myths readily implanted themselves in the Christian mythology, but the execution of its hero gave a great opportunity for mythical expansion and elaboration. It is taught that Jesus was crucified; whether he was or not nobody knows, although there are more pieces of the "true cross" extant than could ever have flourished as trees on Mount Calvary. If such a person as Jesus of Nazareth ever lived and was ever executed by the Romans, it is very probable that he was hanged, and the gallows may, very likely, have been of a form similar to that of a rude cross. The term crucifixion does not necessarily imply that one must be nailed outspread upon a symmetrical cross. It was the ancient custom to use trees as gibbets for execution, or a rude cruciform gallows, often called a "tree" (Deut. xxi, 22, 23; Nicodemus ix, 10). To be hung on such a cross was anciently called hanging on a tree, and to be hung on a tree was crucifixion. This rough method of execution was later modified by the Christians to the present theory of the crucifixion, as they very naturally desired to appropriate the cross for their own especial emblem, owing to the fact that its great antiquity as a universal religious symbol would aid in the propagation of their faith, and since its earliest inception, Christianity has been ever prone to aid its proselyting by the adoption of pagan dogmas, symbols and practices from the so-called heathen theologies. Of all religious symbols, the cross is the most ancient and sacred. It has from the earliest antiquity been the mystic emblem for reverence and awe, and appears to have been in the aboriginal possession of every ancient people. Populations of essentially different culture, tastes, and pursuits have vied with one another in their superstitious adoration of it. Greek crosses of equal arms adorned the tomb of Midas of Phrygia; and long before the time of the Eutruscans, the inhabitants of northern Italy erected crosses over the graves of their dead. The cross was common to Mexico; white marble crosses were found on the island of Saint Ulloa by its discoverers; and it was greatly revered in Paraguay and Peru. While the origin of the cross, shrouded as it is in the mists of the remotest antiquity, has been the subject of much speculation which has resulted in numerous theories, it is, undoubtedly, a conventionalized result of primitive phallic ideas. Sexual motives underlie and permeate all known religious systems. The idea of a creative god naturally gave rise to characteristic symbolical expression of the male and female principles, which were gradually modified and reduced to the tau (a Gothic T), representing the male principle, and the ring, representing the female principle. As a complete expression of the creative power, these two symbols were often placed in conjunction; and the most ancient form of the conjunction was, probably, that of the crux ansata, known to the Egyptians as "the emblem of life," which was very simply formed by placing the ring above the T. This emblem is sometimes called the "cross with the handle," because in ancient sculpture it is often represented as being carried by the ring. (See Doane, "Bible Myths"; Inman, "Ancient Faiths," etc.). This handled cross was also sacred to the Babylonians and occurs repeatedly on their cylinders, bricks and gems. In ancient Scandinavian mythology the great warrior god Thor was always closely associated with a cruciform hammer, this being the instrument with which he killed the great Mitgard serpent, with which he destroyed the giants, and performed other acts of heroism. Cruciform hammers, with a hole at the intersection of the arms for the insertion of the haft, have been discovered in Denmark, and were used in consecrating victims at Thor's altars. The cross, or hammer, of Thor is still used in Iceland as a magical sign in connection with wind and rain, just as the corresponding sign of the cross is now used among the German peasantry to dispel a thunderstorm; both being expressions of the same idea that the cross is sacred to the god of thunder. As Christians blessed the full goblet with the sign of the cross, so the ancient Vikings made the sign of the hammer over theirs; and the signs were identical. The practice of making the sign of the cross before eating, which has, in Protestant sects, degenerated to the saying of grace, which again has assumed the form of a prayer of thanks to God for bestowing the sustenance, was originally merely a method of prevention against demonical possession. It was thought that demons abounded everywhere and that one was very likely to imbibe one of these spirits unless he took the precaution of making the sign of the cross, which they could not endure and from which they fled. This belief in the efficacy of a talisman, universal among all peoples from the most barbarous to so-called civilized communities, was not only countenanced but encouraged by Christianity, and even today we find orthodox Christians who--although they cannot be called educated in the highest sense, yet are not to be classed as illiterate--who are still practicing it. Every good Catholic wears a scapular, and many a one carries a little image of some saint to ward off disaster. The sign of the cross is still used in time of danger and is considered a weapon of miraculous power. Sword hilts are still constructed in the form of the cross to give fortune in battle, and the masts of ships with yards were once considered the symbol of the cross. The burial of the dead about churches is another modern form of the ancient superstition that within the shadow of the cross demons dare not disturb the body, which was necessary for resurrection and immortality. This idea is a descendant of the ancient savage notion that bodies in the vicinity of the idol were protected. Even in our modern Protestant cemeteries we constantly find crosses erected over the graves in the same superstitious manner, although in most cases it has become merely a surviving custom, the origin of which the performers do not know. III.--SPURIOUS RELICS. Accompanying the worship of the cross, we find among orthodox Christians the adoration of the three nails of the passion which are nothing more than a union of the two Egyptian forms of architecture--the obelisk, expressing the male idea, and the inverted pyramid, expressing the female. Two of these nails are supposed to have been found in the time of Constantine, who adorned his helmet and horse's bridle with them. Rome, Milan and Treves each boast of possessing one of them, while still another may be seen at the church of the Holy Cross of Jerusalem, where it is annually exposed to the veneration of the people. In 1353 Pope Innocent VI. appointed a festival for these holy nails. Despite these facts, a legend arose in the latter part of the sixteenth century that these three nails were fashioned into an iron ring three-eighths of an inch broad and three-tenths thick and presented by the Empress Helena to Constantine to protect him in battle, and that this ring was later used to support the golden plates of the celebrated Iron Crown of Lombardy. In reference to the practice of relic worship in the Christian church, it is interesting to note that numerous objects of worship seem endowed with remarkable powers of multiplication. The Church of Coulombs, Diocese of Chârtres; the Cathedral of Pry, the Collegiate Church of Antwerp, the Abbey of Our Savior at Charroux, and the Church of St. John Lateran at Rome, all boast themselves the sole possessors of the only authentic "holy prepuce," which was circumcised from Jesus on the eighth day after his birth (Luke ii, 21), and preserved by the midwife in oil of spikenard, which was later poured upon his head and feet by Mary Magdalene (Infancy ii, 1-4). Likewise, there are numerous "holy shrouds." That at Besancon, which was brought from Palestine by crusaders about the beginning of the twelfth century, won fame by delivering the city from a destructive plague in 1544, while that at Turin had a festival instituted for it by Pope Julius II. in 1506. Other authentic shrouds may be found at the Church of St. Cornelius at Compeigne, in Rome, Milan, Lisbon, and Aix la Chapelle. Another much multiplied relic is the Virgin's ring, supposed to have been the marriage ring used at the nuptials of Joseph and Mary. This sacred souvenir was discovered in 996 by a jeweler of Jerusalem and was readily recognized by its remarkable powers of healing and self-multiplication. Many European churches claim to possess this ring and profess to expose it to the devout for veneration, but, undoubtedly, the most celebrated is that held by the Cathedral of Perouse. Relic worship and belief in the miraculous powers residing in the bones of departed saints, which continues, despite the more general education of the laity, is by no means of Christian origin. In ancient Greece the bones of heroes were superstitiously regarded and those of Hector of Troy were sacredly preserved at Thebes; the tools used in the construction of the Trojan horse were kept at Metapontum; the sceptre of Pelops was held at Chæroneia; the spear of Achilles at Phaselis; and the sword of Memnon at Nicomedia. Miraculous statues of Minerva that brandished spears, abounded, and paintings that could blush and images that could sweat also existed. In India there are numerous teeth of Buddha which his worshipers believe capable of performing miracles; and his coat, which as Prince Siddhatto he laid aside on entering the priesthood, has been miraculously preserved, and is still shown. Jerome, in defending the worship of relics which had been attacked by Vigilantus of Barcelona, did not deny that it was adopted from paganism, but commended it and explained that as this reverence had been previously "only given to idols, and was then to be detested, was now given to martyrs, and therefore to be received." IV.--TRIAL AND EXECUTION MYTHS. That Jesus should have been executed, either as an historical fact or as a mythological theory, is not remarkable; and even when considered in the light of his being one of the godhead, there is nothing new in the relation of his death. The idea of a dying god is very old. The grave of Zeus was shown at Crete, and the body of Dionyseus was buried at Delphi. Osiris and Buddha both died, and numerous deities were crucified. Krishna, the Indian god, suffered such execution, as did also the Mexican savior Quetzalcoatl. Representations of Krishna abound wherein he is depicted as nailed to a cross and having a round hole in his side. Prometheus was nailed by hands and feet to Mount Caucasus, with arms extended in the form of a cross. So immeasurably voluminous have been the writings of the orthodox upon the trial, execution, and resurrection of Jesus that it seems advisable to consider these matters, from a rational point of view, upon the hypothesis that such a man really lived and suffered experiences similar to those narrated in the Gospels. With that premise the following views are offered: The attitude of Jesus before Pilate shows him to have been a willing martyr, yea, desirous of martyrdom. In all probability his fanatical mind believed that when the supreme moment should come, when his execution should take place, and when his death seemed instantly imminent, some great natural phenomenon would occur to save him. He undoubtedly believed that he would not die, but that God would miraculously interpose to rescue him and that at that time he would not only be saved, but that the kingdom of heaven would be established under his control. That this was his belief seems to be shown by his cry of disappointment when he realized that nothing supernatural was to prevent his death. When that moment of realization came, his surprise was evident and, unlike many of his courageous followers who died in calmness and bravery, he cried aloud in mental and physical anguish, "My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?" (Matt. xxvii, 46; Mark xv, 34.) His indifferent bearing before Pilate showed this faith in his redemption, for when the Roman procurator courteously asked him if he were the king of the Jews, he replied ambiguously, as had always been his practice, "Thou sayest it" (Matt. xxvii, 11; Mark xv, 2; Luke xxiii, 3; John xviii, 37; Nicodemus iii, 10). But such ambiguity, which had served very well among the lower classes who had flocked to hear and question him, was of no avail before the matter-of-fact Roman, who, as an imperial officer, desired straightforward answers, and was little impressed by Jesus' silence, except that he was rightfully astonished that when given the chance the prisoner should not have availed himself of it to explain his position. Therefore, seeing Jesus had no will to answer his questions except in an exasperating manner, after he had shown a willingness to save him, Pilate delivered Jesus over to the Jews according to the custom of the Romans in regard to the theological disputes of a subject people--but not until he had requested them to spare the preacher. Had Jesus given the Roman a frank explanation of his position as an itinerant preacher, Pilate would probably have saved him, but the chimerical idea of the interposition of God by a miracle, which would glorify him above all else that could occur, led Jesus to make a willing sacrifice of himself and throw away the opportunity offered him by Pilate. There is nothing noble nor grand in this impudent conduct toward the Roman officer, but there is a good deal of justice and consideration in the conduct of Pilate. There is nothing noble in Jesus' willingness to die nor in his courting death at this trial, for it was entirely unnecessary and was desired on his part only because he expected a miraculous salvation. According to his belief, he was to be the gainer, and he staked his life for a heavenly glory and lost, although he was probably keen enough to see that in any case his death would increase his fame, for the execution of a fanatic always lends a little glory to a cause, no matter how base, as witness the desire of anarchists for martyrdom and the attitude with which they view those who die for their horrible ideas. The only question with the Roman was as to whether Jesus had proclaimed himself the king of the Jews, and as he declined to answer this question, Pilate could do nothing to save him. The blind hatred of orthodox Christianity toward Pilate is absurd. Aside from the argument above, there is another reason why his memory should be leniently treated. According to the Christian dogma, Jesus was the son of God, and it was only by his sacrifice, by his actual death, that he could save man. By dying he took the sins of mankind upon himself, and thus became the Savior. As the eternal Son, knowing all things, as a part of the godhead, he knew his death must occur--that was his mission on earth. Therefore, as instruments in the accomplishment of this grand plan, by which mankind was saved, and Jesus became the Savior, Caiaphas and Pontius Pilate should be regarded as divine agents worthy of glory and praise. Any other conclusion is entirely illogical. But then, who will look for logic in the dogmas of Christianity? When one makes a logical investigation of this faith, he abandons its unreasonable teachings, which cannot be accepted by a logical mind. The person who allows his reason to govern his belief cannot in any way accept the teachings of the absurd and ridiculous Christian cult. While suffering his execution, Jesus, according to the Gospel writers, lost both his moral and physical courage, and cried aloud in agony, "Eli, Eli, lama sabachthani?" In view of this fact, it seems impossible for reasonable creatures to accept the Christian dogmas of the atonement and the trinity, for, if Jesus were one of the godhead and had left his heavenly abode to descend to earth for the especial purpose of saving mankind by shedding his blood for them, he must necessarily have been aware of what was in store for him and have known all the details attendant upon his execution. Looking at this fable rationally, Jesus was inferior in courage to many of his followers. When we recall the innumerable martyrs who went to meet death with smiling lips, in perfect confidence, the wailing savior, with his doubting cry to God, presents anything but an impressive figure. Surely, to burn at the stake, to lie under the axe, to endure the awful tortures of the Inquisition, were fully as agonizing as a crucifixion; and yet men--and delicate women--who have never pretended to divinity, have borne these things silently. To be sure, the whole story of the Christ is largely legendary and very uncertain, but, according to the gospels of Matthew and Mark, Jesus was weak in his convictions, afraid to die for his own teachings, and on the whole, his conduct at the supreme moment reminds one of the weak French peasants of revolutionary times rather than the brave nobility. His peasant blood rose to the surface and in his fear he cried, "Why hast thou forsaken me?" although but a few moments before he had assured one of the malefactors who suffered beside him that on this day he should be in paradise (Luke xxiii, 43). Everything considered, it is not strange that the Jews would not accept Jesus as the awaited messiah who should free them from the yoke of Rome. They desired a strong and powerful leader, not a socialistic wandering teacher, and the prophecies promised a ruler surpassing the wisdom and power of the gorgeous Solomon. There is not one prophetic passage in the Old Testament that can properly be applied to Jesus, although many have been distorted for such purpose. The Jews looked upon him as an impostor and a revolutionist who not only pretended to be what he was not, but who disregarded their ancient laws and preached a doctrine contrary to that held by their rabbis. It was not until long after his death that he was regarded as a prophet, and it was not until every proof of his very existence had vanished that divine honors were paid him. To the Jews he was a vagrant revolutionist worthy of death, and the Jews knew him personally; to a large majority of twentieth century Christians, he is a god, and they know absolutely nothing about him, save a collection of puerile myths which tax their credulity as children, but which as adults they accept. However, regarding the execution of Jesus, there is always the legitimate doubt that it ever occurred. Aside from the fact that the usual mode of death for criminals was by hanging, there is much internal evidence in the gospels themselves which points to the conclusion that the whole story of the execution and resurrection is mythical and was composed from various Hebrew and pagan legends. The dying cry was copied verbatim from Psalms xxii, 1, wherein David "complaineth in great discouragement" over his diseased condition. V.--DISTORTED "PROPHECIES." The Jews, desirous that the spectacle of the execution should not pollute the sanctity of their Sabbath, requested that the death of the victim might be hastened (John xix, 31). Therefore, according to custom, the Roman soldiers broke the legs of the thieves, but, finding Jesus already dead, they did not break his legs (John xix, 33). In this the writer of John sees the fulfillment of a prophecy (John xix, 36). In Exodus xii, 46, occur the words "neither shall ye break a bone thereof," which were nothing more than a command of "the ordinance of the passover" (Ex. xii, 43), and applied to the sacrificial animals to be eaten then. But the gospel writers, delving for prophecies, saw with their queerly distorted eyes a prophecy in this and Numbers ix, 12, regardless of the fact that for centuries, in celebrating the passover, the Jews had conformed to this practice of not breaking the bones of the animals eaten. But the biographers saw Jesus as the paschal lamb, and associated him with the meat of the passover. The tendency to regard his body as the solid of the Eucharist has likewise aided in this construction of the passages in Exodus and Numbers into a prophecy. In David's apostrophe to the righteous he says that though their afflictions are many, "the Lord delivereth him out of them all" and preserves him. "He keepeth all his bones; not one of them is broken" (Psalm xxxiv, 19-20). This has no reference to the Christ, but the distorted vision of the apostolic writer saw in it such an intent. He says (John xix, 36), "For these things were done, that the scripture should be fulfilled, A bone of him shall not be broken." In order, however, to be sure that Jesus was actually dead and, in case he was not, to hasten that event, one of the soldiers pierced his heart with a lance. Here John sees another prophecy fulfilled (John xix, 37), "They shall look on him whom they pierced." This refers to Zechariah xii, 10, where we find the words, "And I will pour upon the house of David, and upon the inhabitants of Jerusalem, the spirit of grace and supplications; and they shall look upon me whom they have pierced." This was the language of a prophet in a diatribe against the enemies of Juda. How could the writer of John have seen a prophecy in this, when the context reads "in that day I will seek to destroy all the nations that come against Jerusalem" (Zech. xii, 9), and when at the time of the crucifixion, Jerusalem was in the hands of the Romans? Likewise, the writers of Matthew and John saw in the drawing of lots by the soldiers at the foot of the cross for the garments of Jesus--the usual custom regarding the minor possessions of executed criminals, which were always considered the spoil of the military guard--"the fulfillment of a prophecy" (Matt. xxvii, 35 John xix, 23, 24) found in Psalms xxii, 18, "They part my garments among them, and cast lots upon my vesture," which really was a metaphorical expression of David concerning the treatment accorded him by his enemies. In the preceding verse 16, in the same relation and rhetorical figure, he says "they pierced my hands and my feet." On the whole, Psalm xxii was a particularly happy composition for the Christian adepts at misconstruction. Neither Mark nor Luke refers to the fulfillment of a prophecy regarding the vestments, but content themselves with narrating the event (Mark xv, 24; Luke xxiii, 34). It was customary to give the condemned a drink of wine and myrrh to stupefy him and thus decrease the sufferings of execution. When this was offered to Jesus he refused it (Mark xv, 23), probably because he wished to be perfectly conscious at the time when God should miraculously reprieve him. Matthew, xxvii, 34, intentionally falsifies the episode and calls the drink vinegar and gall, so bound is he to see a messianic prophecy in Psalms xix, 21, "They gave me also gall for my meat; and in my thirst they gave me vinegar to drink," which words were really applied by David to his own personal enemies. VI.--THE RESURRECTION. Regarding the resurrection, it is interesting to note that, whereas most crucified men lived a number of hours and even a day in this torture, the wounds in the hands not being mortal and the position only affecting the circulation, causing death by exhaustion or starvation, Jesus lived only three hours. Therefore, it may have been that he was not actually dead, but merely in a state of coma, or perhaps a cataleptic condition. The custom he had of using his subjective mind in telepathic cures, as told in the gospels, seems to point to this conclusion, that, being strongly subjective, his condition here was cataleptic. Many cases are known of men having been restored after crucifixion, and, as the embalming given Jesus in the Jewish custom consisted in nothing more than a wrapping in a shroud with myrrh and aloes, there is nothing to oppose this hypothesis. After resting for a while in the tomb, he may have revived and gone out and been seen by others, after which he wandered away again to die in solitude from exhaustion and lack of food. It is more probable, however, that this legend was copied from those of other religious heroes, who likewise rose from the dead, as there seems to be much variance between the different versions of the visit of Mary Magdalene to the sepulchre and her meeting with Christ. Matthew says (xxviii, 1) that Mary Magdalene and the other Mary visited the sepulchre (3), where they saw a male angel descend from heaven during an earthquake and roll back the stone from the door and sit upon it (7). And he told them to "go quickly, and tell his disciples" that he had risen, which they did. But as they were going (9) "Jesus met them ... and they came ... and worshiped him." Mark tells a similar story with some variations as to the angel, but he relates that Jesus appeared first to Mary Magdalene "early the first day of the week" (xvi, 9), and not on her visit with Mary, the mother of James, and Salome at the tomb. According to Luke, the women went to the tomb, where they were informed by (xxiv, 4) "two men in shining garments" that Jesus had risen, and they left and told the apostles. No mention is made here of the encounter of Mary Magdalene. John, however, gives a more elaborate version. He narrates (xx) that Mary, going early and alone to the tomb, which she found entirely empty, ran and informed Peter, who verified her story and departed. After she was left alone she looked into the sepulchre again, where she beheld two angels, and on turning away saw Jesus standing by her. Setting aside the idea of a mythical plagiarism in these tales, and also the cataleptic theory already mentioned, and considering them from yet another point of view, we can still find a rational explanation. The meeting of Jesus with Mary may have been the hallucination of a hysterical woman. According to Mark xvi, 9, and Luke viii, 2, Jesus had cast seven devils out of her, which is surely sufficient proof that she was of neurotic temperament and had been subject to delusions and hysteria. Undoubtedly after the shock of witnessing the crucifixion and death of her master, for three gospels agree in stating that she was present (Matt. xxvii, 56; Mark xv, 40; John xix, 25), this fond woman's mind, which seemed more normal in his presence, again gave way and she returned to her hysterical condition. On visiting the tomb, she found it empty because "his disciples came by night and stole him away," that they might declare he had risen from the dead, "as is commonly reported among the Jews until this day" (Matt. xxviii, 11-15). As she was leaving, she heard his voice (a common delusion of hysterical subjects) and saw his form (another hallucination), but when she went to touch him, she could not do so. The relation has all the marks of simple neurosis, and yet many modern Christians base their whole faith upon the words of Paul in 1 Corinthians xv, 14, "If Christ be not risen, then is our preaching vain, and your faith is also vain." As noted in various parts of this work, unless Christians believe in the possibility of miracles, the power of a personal devil, and the physical resurrection of the body, there is no foundation for their faith, and it is a mockery. Not satisfied with having executed their god according to the most approved methods of antiquity, Christians felt the necessity of the presence of some remarkable natural phenomena at the time of his death, for among all ancient peoples it was customary to attribute some remarkable natural convulsions to the death of a great man. When Prometheus was crucified on Mount Caucasus "the earth quaked, thunder roared, lightning flashed, wild winds rent the air and boisterous billows rose." On the death of Romulus, there was "darkness over the face of the earth for six hours," and when Quetzalcoatl died the sun became black! Even in historical times, we find narrations of similar phenomena accompanying the deaths of royalty; and we read in many authenticated histories of the frightful thunderstorms that were coincident with the deaths of Isabella of Castile, Charles the Fifth, Napoleon the Great, and Oliver Cromwell. Therefore, it is not surprising to find mention of such occurrences at the time of the execution of the Christian god, although we are not prepared for such astonishing and unprecedented phenomena as related by the ever exaggerating author of the "Gospel according to St. Matthew," who states very seriously that "the vail of the temple was rent in twain from top to bottom; and the earth did quake, and the rocks rent; and the graves were opened; and many bodies of the saints which slept arose, and came out of the graves after his resurrection, and went into the holy city, and appeared unto many." But the execution, while it completes the mortal life of the incarnate Christian deity, by no means finishes the legend. Like the gods of antiquity, the Christ must also descend into hell and perform wonders similar to those of the ancient heroes. All the saviors of mankind had done so--Zoroaster, the Persian; Osiris, the Egyptian; Baldur, the Scandinavian; Quetzalcoatl, the Mexican; and Krishna, the Hindu; while Ishtar voluntarily descended into the Assyrian inferno. Having descended into hell, resurrection was necessary, for it was unreasonable that the savior of mankind, the son of the supreme god, should remain perpetually in the place of punishment; and, as his life on earth was over, he could no longer abide there, and so the only plausible sequence was an ascension to heaven. Krishna, the crucified Hindu savior, rose from the dead and ascended bodily into the celestial regions, as did Rama, another avatar of Vishnu. Buddha also ascended bodily into heaven when his mission on earth was fulfilled, and marks on the rocks of a high mountain are shown as the last impressions of his footsteps on earth. Zoroaster and Æsculapius also had similar experiences, as did Elijah and Adonis. Osiris rose from the dead and bore the title of "The Resurrected One," his ascension being celebrated in Egypt at the vernal equinox, as is the Christ's and as was Adonis'. Other saviors who rose from the dead were Dionysius, Herakles, Memnon, Baldur and Quetzalcoatl. Modern Catholics are still taught the fables of the bodily ascension of Jesus, Mary the Virgin, and Mary the Magdalene and many other holy persons, as actual miraculous truths, not to be questioned nor denied. Very good, but how can educated Catholics of today reconcile such truths with their actual scientific knowledge? They know that the earth is spherical, that the stars and planets are members of solar systems, that outside the terrestrial atmosphere is nothing but vast space. There is no such place as a heaven anywhere in these celestial regions, and the zenith of any geographical situation changes every moment. Clouds are mere masses of vapor, not furniture for the repose of the glorified dead. Then whither did these adored beings ascend? Certainly, God in his love for them never flung them far into space to whirl about for eternity. These Catholics also know the law of gravitation, which would not allow of such a method of transportation. But why ask these questions? No religious person is capable of thinking sensibly on the teachings of his faith, no matter how ridiculous. He accepts, as an adult, what he questions as a child. While the idea of bodily ascension of the Christ was probably copied into his biography from that of Enoch (Gen. v, 24) and Elijah (2 Kings ii, 11), such stories form a large part of the annals of classical mythology, almost every hero of antiquity having been translated to the heavens when his earthly life was spent. The custom of converting the tombs of prominent Christians into shrines likewise aided this belief, as, it being impossible to discover the burial places of the most conspicuous, the idea arose that they had been physically removed to heaven. The principal weakness of all the great theological systems now in practice is that they are terrestrial in their conception of God and man. Their foundations were laid at a period when mankind knew little, and cared less, about the planets; at a period when it was presumed that the sun, moon, and stars were either beneficent deities or natural objects placed in the firmament to light the world and please the eye of man by their beauty. Therefore God, as recognized in these systems, takes heed of naught else than this particular world. He totally ignores the other innumerable spheres of matter floating in space, many of which may support life. All his interests center on this infinitesimal portion of his creation. It is with the doings of the inhabitants of this planet that he is engaged. For this earth alone he creates man, animals and vegetables; to this alone, he sends his only son, or Savior; and it is here, in the purified state, that the souls of men shall eternally dwell after the great judgment. Since science has proved that our solar system is but one of the many, and that in this system the earth is not the largest nor most important body, should not such absurd theological ideas be abandoned and a grander and vaster conception of the Deity be inaugurated? Should not organized theology turn to nobler thoughts and say with Paul, "When I was a child ... I thought as a child; but when I became a man, I put away childish things" (1 Cor. xiii, 11)? All such doctrines as predestination, which are based upon the sin of Adam, are now anachronistic. The acceptance of the theory of evolution, which entirely destroys the reality of the mythical Adam, sweeps away his biography and leaves no foundation for such dogmas. If the Christian church desires to remain, she must cast aside these worthless doctrines, founded upon false hypotheses, when the minds of men were in darkness regarding the origin of species, and when they saw in these the only solution of their problem. Having accomplished his ascension and entered on his eternal kingdom, one of the Christ's attributes is that of judging the dead. This idea undoubtedly came from the Alexandrian school of theology, where so many of the Christian theories were promulgated, for one of the best-known attributes of Osiris was that of the judge, and he was generally represented as seated on his throne of judgment, bearing a staff (the crozier of the modern bishop) and holding the crux ansata. Buddha is also supposed to be the judge of the dead. In connection with the idea of the Christ as the divine judge of men, certain sects of Christians have advocated that of his return to earth at some future period, which will terminate all terrestrial life as it is known to-day, basing this belief upon Jesus' own proclamation of his second advent, although in his prophecy he declared the coming of the kingdom of heaven to be soon after his death. He even told his disciples that they could not visit all the cities of Israel before he should come again (Matt. x, 23); that their own generation should see these things (Matt. xxiv, 34; Mark xiii, 30); that some of those then listening to him should live to see his kingdom (Matt. xvi, 28; xxiii, 36; xxiv, 34; Mark viii, 38; Luke ix, 1-27; xxi, 32). Such were his words, and it seems strange that people, believing these words, can still regard him as a very part of God. Such improbabilities did Jesus gradually grow to preach, and so wild did he become in his exhortations that even his disciples at times appear to have believed him mad (Mark iii, 21), an opinion in which his enemies agreed (Mark iii, 22; John vii, 5-20; viii, 48-52; x, 20). They certainly had good cause for their suspicion. Was not his conduct in cursing the fig tree for not bearing fruit out of season an act of lunacy (Matt. xxi, 19-20; Mark xi, 13-14), and likewise his arrogant assertion of the power of faith (Matt. xvii, 20; xxi, 21; Mark xi, 23; Luke xvii, 6)? It is, however, quite probable that this idea of a second advent was copied from the Persian theology, it being one of the tenets of the Zoroastrian religion that in the end Ormuzd, God of Light, should conquer Ahriman, God of Darkness, and that he should then summon the good from their graves, remove all evil from the face of nature, and permanently establish the kingdom of righteousness and virtue upon the earth. But such ideas are not unique to Christians and Persians. The Hindus believe that Vishnu will have another avatar; the Siamese live in constant expectation of the second coming of Codom; the Buddhists are looking forward to the return of Buddha; the Jews are awaiting the messiah; and the disciples of Quetzalcoatl expected that deity's second advent--and most unfortunately thought their dream realized on the arrival of the Spaniards, who took advantage of their consequent submissiveness to exterminate them. VII.--MIRACLES. It is customary among orthodox Christians to assert that the godhead of their Christ was fully proven by the many miracles attributed to him in the New Testament. But one must not forget that the performance of miracles is one of the most common attributes of founders of new sects, and one which all religious charlatans claim. Krishna lulled tempests, cured lepers, and restored the dead; Buddha, Zoroaster (who walked on water on his way to Mount Iran to receive the law), Horus, Æsculapius, and innumerable others did likewise. Mohammed, not content with miracles of the omnipotent physician type, juggled the moon through his sleeve. Even to-day faith in miracles is not dead, and miracle-working attributes have been claimed for Mrs. Eddy, founder of Christian Science, Dowie, founder of Zion City, and Sandford, leader of the Holy Ghost and Us. There can be no doubt in the mind of a student of comparative theology that Moncure D. Conway was correct when he stated in his essay on Christianity that "among all the miracles of the New Testament not one is original. Bacchus changed water into wine.... Moses and Elias also fasted forty days.... Pythagoras had power to still waves and tempests at sea. Elijah made the widow's meal and oil increase; Elisha fed a hundred men with twenty loaves.... As for opening blind eyes, healing diseases, walking on water, casting out demons, raising the dead, resurrection, ascension, all these have been common myths--logic currency of every race." "One of the best attested miracles of all profane history is that which Tacitus reports of Vespasian, who cured a blind man in Alexandria by means of his spittle, and a lame man by the mere touch of his foot, in obedience to a vision of the god Serapis," says Hume in his "Essay on Miracles," and we might here mention the numerous attested cures resulting from the laying on of royal hands by divinely appointed sovereigns. The rulers of France, Aragon, and England touched for scrofula, this practice being continued by the latter from the period of its origin with Edward the Confessor until the accession of William the Third, whose good sense put an end to it. James the Second, the last practitioner of this art, had so great a belief in his curative powers that he set aside certain days on which he touched the afflicted from his throne at Whitehall, while the sufferers came in throngs to kneel at his feet. The princes of the house of Austria likewise held divine power and were supposed to be capable of casting out devils and curing stammering by the touch of their aristocratic fingers. Numerous cases are narrated in which Jesus, by simply touching the person of the afflicted, effected instantaneous cures. Such were those of the leper (Matt. viii, 2-3; Mark i, 40-42; Luke v, 12-13); the curing of Peter's mother-in-law of a fever (Matt. viii, 14-15; Mark i, 30-31; Luke iv, 38-39), although in the Luke version he "rebuked" the fever; and the opening of the eyes of two blind men (Matt. ix, 27-30). Another method seems to have been by allowing the ill to touch him or his garments (Matt. ix, 20-22; xiv, 36; Mark iii, 10; v, 25-34; Luke vi, 19; viii, 43-48). At other times he simply told the patient, or the agent of the patient, that faith had effected the cure, as with the centurion's servant (Matt. viii, 5-13; Luke vii, 2-10) and the daughter of the Canaanite (Matt. xv, 22-28; Mark vii, 25-30); or told the stricken to hold forth a withered arm or pick up his bed and walk, by which command the cure was completed (Matt. ix, 2-7; xii, 10-13; Mark ii, 3-12; Luke v, 18-25). Among all primitive peoples, the principal cause of disease was supposed to lie in the displeasure of some deity toward the afflicted person, who was punished by this deity for some offense or neglect (Psalms xxxviii, 3). One of the favorite methods of the gods in afflicting was sending evil and tormenting spirits into the body of the victim. After more was learned of disease, this theory gradually diminished in strength as regarded some troubles, but for centuries it was the universal theory that mental derangements and nervous afflictions were solely due to demoniacal possession, and all priests and medicine-men resorted to various exorcisms, from the primitive banging of gongs and tooting of trumpets to scare away the spirit, to the prayers and sprinkling of holy water of the mediæval church to rid the patient of the unwelcome inhabitant of his body. That Jesus believed in this demoniacal possession is undoubted, and he effected his cures by ordering or calling out the devil from the body of the possessed. For example, there is a story of Jesus driving devils into an innocent herd of swine (Matt. viii, 28-33; Mark v, 2-14; Luke viii, 26-34). We also find him casting out and rebuking devils in various instances (Matt. ix, 32-34; xii, 22-24; xvii, 14-18; Mark i, 23-24, 34; iii, 11; Luke iv, 33-36, 41; ix, 37-42). In all probability, these medical miracles of Jesus were copied from older legends by his biographers. But, even if they actually occurred, they were not miracles at all, for a miracle must be, in the very meaning of the word, performed by the suspension of a natural law, and from all gospel accounts the mental therapeutics of the Christ were performed, if at all, in perfect accordance with well-established psychological laws. They had been performed years before his birth, and they have continued to be performed years after his death, even to the present time. Through the force of faith, the patients were placed in passivity (hypnosis) and treated by suggestions being impressed upon their subjective minds, when present; at a distance, they were cured by the telepathic suggestions conveyed from the healer to their subjective mentalities. There is no miracle here; it is merely a demonstration of telepathic and hypnotic phenomena, governed by psychic laws, and does not place the Christ on a higher intellectual plane than modern hypnotists and mental healers, who consciously and knowingly work within the dispensation of these laws. They are anything but proofs of the godhead of Jesus. It would seem that the Pharisees had some such idea in mind when they demanded an astronomical miracle and requested "a sign from heaven." But, unable to comply, he evaded this performance by calling them hypocrites and "an evil and adulterous generation," and saying, "There shall no sign be given unto this generation" (Matt. xii, 38-39; xvi, 1-4; Mark viii, 11-13; Luke xi, 16, 29; John ii, 18, 24; vi, 30). One of the commonest miracles ascribed to religious leaders of all sects and times, and one which never fails to convince witnesses and hearers of the authenticity of such a leader's claims, is that of restoring the dead to life. Such miracles have been so well attested that there seems little reason to suppose them entirely fictitious. Everyone has heard of cases of catalepsy, and medical history teems with cases of "suspended animation"; in fact, the only actual proof of death is the entire decomposition of the vital organs; therefore, the cruelty and crime of embalming corpses before such a condition is apparent. Some undertakers actually insist upon embalming before such conditions, because the dead can then be made to "present a better appearance"! There are numerous well-proven cases of people lying for days in cataleptic conditions, even with slight signs of decomposition due to restricted circulation, and then returning to renewed lives and perfectly healthy states. All Eastern travelers are familiar with the practices of Hindu fakirs who allow themselves to be buried alive for weeks, and are "resurrected" without having suffered. Therefore, it does not seem improbable that some such acts on the parts of various religious leaders may have occurred which have excited wonder with the ignorant, and interest among the educated. The early Christians proclaimed many such wonderful works, albeit when challenged by a wealthy pagan to produce even one such case, in payment for which he would become a convert, a failure was the result. Orthodox Christians proclaim that Jesus raised from death Jairus' daughter, in entire forgetfulness of the actual words accredited to their leader, which were, "The maid is not dead, but sleepeth" (Matt. ix, 24; Mark v, 39; Luke viii, 52), showing his opinion that she was in a cataleptic condition. While neither of the first three gospels says aught of the raising of Lazarus, we find it in John, who seems to have substituted it for the story of Jairus' daughter, which does not appear in his gospel. According to this hyperbolical and probably demented authority, Jesus raised Lazarus to life after he had been dead four days (John xi, 17), although Jesus maintained that Lazarus was not dead (John xi, 11). He declared that "this sickness is not unto death, but for the glory of God, that the Son of God might be glorified there-by" (John xi, 4), or, in other words, Jesus believed that the unfortunate Lazarus was obliged to undergo this frightful experience that his seeming resurrection might cause gaping among the vulgar, and add to the prestige of the miracle worker. For this reason, he purposely postponed going to the dying man, whom he might have saved, that he might later have the glory of bringing him to life! Excellent ethics! Finally, however, when he did depart, he said positively, "Our friend Lazarus sleepeth; but I go, that I may awake him out of sleep" (John xi, 11). Having arrived at the sepulchre, he approached it, groaning and weeping, in a most theatrical manner, such as would appeal to a highly strung audience, and cried in a loud voice, "Lazarus, come forth!" whereupon the dead man arose and came out (John xi, 33, 35, 43). Now, this may have been catalepsy, and it may have been the strong voice and will of the Christ which caused the awakening, but, in all probability, if the affair ever occurred, it was a preconceived dramatic incident. All the actors were partisans of the professed messiah, and the whole story reads like a play, and undoubtedly the words "come forth" were the cue for the waiting man to appear. It is by such contemptible methods that religions are established. If the tale were due to the imagination of the author of John, it is most discreditable to him, and places his hero in a very bad light. If it actually occurred, it shows Jesus as a vain-glorious boaster, anxious to show his power to the vulgar, and desirous of gaining a following by charlatanry, either by raising a hypnotized man or by creating a cheap melodrama. It had been prophesied (2 Esdras xiii, 50) that the messiah should be a miracle worker, which probably caused Jesus to affect this rôle when he accepted the part of the messiah, and to condescend to soil his mission by charlatanism, even to the raising of the dead in imitation of the former prophets, Elijah and Elisha (I Kings xvii, 16-24; II Kings iv, 18-37). It is rather amusing to hear Theodore Christlieb, that well-named, sturdy old German supporter of orthodoxy, boldly assert in irrevocable simplicity and straightforwardness, in his "Modern Doubt and Christian Belief": "However much in other respects our opponents may differ, they all agree in the denial of miracles, and unitedly storm this bulwark of the Christian faith; and in its defense we have to combat them all at once. But whence this unanimity? Because with the truth of miracles the entire citadel of Christianity stands or falls. [The italics are his own.] For its beginning is a miracle, its author is a miracle, its progress depends upon miracles, and they will hereafter be its consummation. If the principle of miracles be set aside, then all the heights of Christianity will be leveled with one stroke, and naught will remain but a heap of ruins. If we banish the supernatural from the Bible, there is nothing left us but the covers" (pages 285-6). VIII.--ATONEMENT AND SALVATION BY FAITH. The dogma of the atonement which very naturally resulted from the theological interpretation of the crucifixion, was readily accepted by the Christian church. The idea of averting disasters by sacrifice and thus causing one devoted victim to bear the load of the sins of others, in payment of which his death was acceptable, is one of the greatest antiquity, and we find sacrifices of various kinds offered to propitiate the deities, from the simple offerings of primitive man to the more elaborate sacrifices of a more complicated society. Finally came the idea of human sacrifice and then the culminating theory of the sacrifice of a divine being whose suffering should atone for all the sins of mankind. The belief of redemption from sin by the sufferings of a divine incarnation was general and popular centuries before the time of Jesus. In the temple of the moon the Albanians of the eastern Caucasus kept a number of sacred slaves. When one exhibited more than usual symptoms of inspiration, the high priest maintained him in the utmost luxury for a year, after which he was anointed and led forth to be sacrificed. After his death, the people stood upon the body as a purificationary ceremony, it being believed that the dead man was possessed of a divine spirit. The ancient Greeks were also familiar with the use of the human scapegoat, and it was customary at Marsailles, one of the busiest and most brilliant of the Greek colonies, to sacrifice an inspired man when the city was ravaged by the plague. All are familiar with the old Jewish practice of using the scapegoat as the vehicle for the expiation of sins, and the whole theory of the atonement is little more than a modernized expression of the old idea that the sins of the community may be delegated to one agent to be sacrificed for the purification of the rest. The prophecy, as it is called by John, made by Caiaphas, the high priest, "it is expedient for us that one man should die for the people, and that the whole nation perish not" (John xi, 50; xviii, 14), which has been seized upon by the Christians as a reference to the vicarious atonement, is nothing more than the opinion of an ardent orthodox Jew that if Jesus were permitted to live and preach he would destroy the ancient faith and his converts would abandon the old religion. The words "it is expedient for us" qualify the whole statement. They signified that the priesthood would be without a following were he allowed to continue. The idea of a vicarious atonement for all the people would have been of no expediency whatever to Caiaphas and his class. They felt that if orthodoxy fell by Jesus' preaching, the Romans could easily crush them, for it was only by their union and the support of their ancient rites that they could form any front to the imperial government; it was by these alone that they had any political significance. Once dismembered, the Jews would be scattered to the corners of the earth (John xi, 52). This was the meaning of Caiaphas' words, and he was correct, for such was the actual case. When orthodoxy was undermined, the Jewish nation was ruined. The doctrine that God was angry with humanity because of its ancestors' transgressions, and would forgive its sins only on its acceptance of belief in the godhead of Jesus, is so entirely at variance with the Jewish teachings, which held that God freely forgave penitents on the confession of their sins (Ex. xxxiv, 6-7; Neh. ix, 17; Ps. ciii, 3; cxxx, 4; Is. xxxiii, 24; Dan. ix, 9) that it was never accepted by them. Some old Christian writers believed that it was to the devil that the Christ was sacrificed. Their belief in the justice of the Supreme would not allow them to think that he demanded the sacrifice of an innocent for the sins of the guilty. Proclus of Constantinople, in the age of Austin, wrote that "the devil held us in a state of servitude, boasting that he had bought us. It was necessary, therefore, that all being condemned, either they should be dragged to death, or a sufficient price be paid; and because no angel had the wherewithal to pay it, it remained that God should die for us." While such an idea is certainly of a higher moral nature than that which states that God sacrificed his own innocent son for man, it has the unfortunate result of attributing to the devil greater power than to God; for if the devil could demand and receive a part of the god-head as ransom, then God himself was weaker than the arch fiend. Hislop, in his "Two Babylons," commenting upon the Chaldean doctrine that it was "by the works and merits of men themselves that they must be justified and accepted of God," utterly condemns it, and glories in the dogma of the atonement with great and illogical pleasure. Having reviewed the Egyptian belief that Anubis weighed the merits and defects of departed souls, so that Osiris, in accordance with the result, might judge and sentence them; and the Parsee belief that the Angel of Justice sat on the bridge of Chinevad, which connected heaven and earth, weighing souls to decide whether or not they should enter paradise, he condemns such theories as "utterly demoralizing," and asserts that no believer can ever have "any solid feeling of comfort, or assurance as to his prospects in the eternal world," which very fact would seem conducive to clean lives and good deeds. Then he continues in ecstasy to exalt the immoral Christian doctrine of "justification by faith alone," which he declares alone "can produce a life of loving, filial, hearty obedience to the law and commands of God," and by which man may reach salvation "absolutely irrespective of human merits, simply and solely through the righteousness of Christ." This is one of the most absurd and immoral doctrines of all the absurd and immoral doctrines of Christianity, and one which leads to all varieties of crime and misery. A man who believes that simple faith alone is a perfect and acceptable passport to eternal bliss will take no pains to lead either a decent or useful life. He is at liberty to commit all the crimes known to his nature; he may murder, steal, rape, and lie with impunity, for his faith in Christ will save him from his well-deserved punishment; while a man of high ethical standards and immaculate moral principles, who spends his whole life in self-sacrifice for the progress of humanity is doomed to damnation, unless he believe! What a horrible doctrine! What a blasphemous conception of the justice of God! Every student of comparative theology knows that such views of atonement were centuries old at the date of the supposed birth of the Christ, and that all sorts of sacrifices were made at the altars of different gods with the same idea of atonement; but, aside from this, is there not something cowardly and mean in trying to shirk the responsibilities of one's actions upon either an animal, a man, or a god? Is it not contemptible to suppose that the death and suffering of another will allow one to go unpunished, or that such suffering is a license for humanity to sin? All that is ridiculous, blasphemous, and illogical appears in this stupid dogma. IX.--THE TRINITY--MARIOLATRY. The dogma of the trinity, which was introduced, strongly advocated, and finally successfully lobbied through the famous Council of Nicaæ in 315, by that astute theological politician Athanasius, Bishop of Alexandria, split the Christian church in twain and threw Europe into turmoil and bloodshed. Athanasius was the leader of the Alexandrian school of Christian theology which drew its inspirations and ideas largely--one might almost say, exclusively--from ancient Egyptian sources. The Egyptians were an essentially religious people whose deistic ideas were surrounded by ceremony, priestcraft, and mysticism, all of which made such a deep impression upon the pliant minds of the Alexandrian Christians that they molded their new faith in the form of their old. The Egyptians highly revered the number three, which they generally represented under the form of a triangle. To the Egyptians nothing could be perfect or complete unless it was of three component parts. Therefore, their gods were generally grouped in sets of three, many cities having their own especial trinities. Horus was divided into three persons, and Osiris, Isis and Horus were worshiped under the sign of the triangle. But Egypt was not alone in her trinitarian ideas. The theory of sex worship had a strong hold on all the peoples of antiquity, and it is not surprising to find similar religious expressions in India. One of the most prominent features of Indian theology is the doctrine of the divine triad governing all things. This triad is called the Tri-murti and consists of Brahma, the creator, Vishnu, the preserver, and Siva, the destroyer. It is an inseparable unity though three in form. The inhabitants of China and Japan, most of whom are Buddhists, worship God in the form of a trinity. The Persians have a similar triad composed of Ormuzd, the creator, Mithras, the son, and Ahriman, the destroyer. The ancient Scandinavians likewise worshiped a triple deity who was yet one god, and consisted of Odin, Thor, and Frey. One of the many weak points in the doctrine of the trinity, and one that must be noticeable even to Christians, is that, according to the New Testament, the apostles themselves never seem to have recognized the divinity of Jesus, but always treated him as a human Jew like themselves. This attitude of the early Christian disciples is noted by Priestley, who remarks in his "Corruptions of Christianity" (page 136): "It can never be thought that Peter and the others would have made so free with our Lord, as they sometimes did, if they had considered him as their maker, and the being who supported the whole universe; and therefore must have been present in every part of creation, giving his attention to everything, and exerting his power upon everything, at the same time that he was familiarly conversing with them. Moreover, the history of the temptation must be altogether improbable in such a supposition. For what could be the offer of the kingdoms of this world to him who made the world, and was already in possession of it?" Numerous texts which tend to affirm the humanity of Jesus have been stumbling blocks in the paths of the trinitarians, and they have taken great pains to explain away these embarrassing texts, even at the cost of much ingenuity and absurdity. Paul, the real founder of the faith, in his first epistle to Timothy, says: "For there is one God, and one mediator between God and men, the man Christ Jesus" (1 Tim. ii, 5); and again in his first epistle to John he remarks: "No man hath seen God" (1 John iv, 12). Such phrases as "Why callest thou me good? There is none good but one, that is God" (Matt. xix, 17), and "But now ye seek to kill me, a man that hath told you the truth, which I have heard of God" (John viii, 40), do not appear to be fitting remarks for the second person of the trinity. Again, the words, "My Father is greater than I" (John xiv, 28), were likewise difficult of explanation by those who held that every member of the trinity is coequal, but Austin got around this by declaring that "Christ having emptied himself of his former glory, and being in form of a servant, was then less, not only than his Father, but even than himself"! The same writer asserts that the words, "that the Son knew not the time of the day of judgment, but only the Father" (Mark xiii, 32), means that while Jesus did know something of the trinity, he would not make it known to others--thus making a downright liar of his God. The whole of trinitarianism is epitomized in the phrase of Peter Lombard, who, having made the impossible arithmetical assertion that no one person of the trinity is less than the other two, says: "He that can receive this, let him receive it; but he that cannot, let him, however, believe it; and let him pray that what he believes he may understand." Jesus having been ordained one of the godhead, the only begotten son of the most high god, the worship of his mother naturally followed; for who could reasonably refuse to bend the knee to the one virgin of all humanity, considered worthy of the honor of bearing the incarnate deity? It was all the easier for the Christian church to adopt this practice, that it had been one of the principal features of the ancient theologies. All nations have worshiped a pure, chaste queen of heaven, a personification of that beautiful celestial body that smiles so benignly down on earth every month. In every land the moon was worshiped as a mother goddess, pure, beautiful, and loving; for there is not the slightest doubt that the virgin queen of heaven, so commonly worshiped by all nations, was merely a personification of the moon. Isis, mother of the Egyptian savior Horus, was worshiped as a virgin and was styled "Our Lady," "Queen of Heaven," "Mother of God," "Intercessor," and "Immaculate Virgin." She was commonly represented with the divine infant seated on her lap, or standing on a crescent moon, and having a glory of twelve stars about her head. With the adoption of the worship of Isis to Christianity, the crescent moon became a sacred symbol of Mary, who was often portrayed standing upon one. It was held peculiarly sacred by the Greek church and a large crescent moon of gold adorned the dome of St. Sophia at Constantinople. When the city fell in 1453 before the Turkish arms, the Sultan adopted the crescent as a symbol of his victorious power and as a humiliation to his Christian enemies, and thus again the religious significance of the crescent changed, and as an emblem of a Mohammedan power soon came to be regarded by the forgetful Christians with horror and a deadly hatred. The ancient Chaldees believed in a celestial virgin-mother to whom the erring sinner might appeal, and Shin-moo, the mother goddess, occupies a conspicuous place in Chinese worship. The Babylonians and Assyrians worshiped a goddess called Mylitta, whose son Tammuz is said to have arisen from the dead. In India they have worshiped for ages Devaki, the mother of Krishna, and Maya, the mother of Buddha, both of whom are represented with the infant saviors in their arms. Their statues, similar to the Christian madonnas, are found in Hindu temples, and their portraits are always accompanied by halos. Sochiquetzal, mother of Quetzalcoatl, was worshiped in Mexico as the mother of their crucified savior. As queen of heaven and the chaste and immaculate protectress of women, the Greek Hera and her Roman prototype, Juno, were worshiped by the ancient classical world, while the virtuous Diana of Ephesus held a similar place in Phoenician mythology. All the ancient beliefs in the virgin queen of heaven and her miraculous child probably had more or less effect on the growth of virgin worship in the Christian church; but it was undoubtedly Egyptian influence which was most powerful in the adoption of it, just as it was in regard to the trinitarian dogma. The worship of Isis and Horus was introduced into Rome during the early days of the empire and was readily accepted. And with its introduction came those basalt images of the goddess and her child which have since been adopted by the Christians as ancient representations of Mary and Jesus, albeit they are as black as Ethiopians. Many centuries before, the worship of the Greek goddess Hera had been instituted at Rome under the name of Juno, and she was especially regarded as the chaste and immaculate protectress of women. And it was the combination of the worship offered to these two deities that the Christian church condensed into the worship of the mother of Jesus, to which it added the attributes of Diana, making Mary the patroness of chastity as well as fruitfulness! In Dante's day it was customary to invoke the Virgin Mary at childbirth just as Juno Lucina was invoked by the pagan ancestors of the Italians. The worship of the virgin as theotokos, the mother of god, was promulgated at the general council of Ephesus, which was called by the Emperor Theodosius II in 431, and, after that date, and up to the present time, we find this lowly Jewish peasant girl delineated in all the insignia of royalty and portrayed in the most beautiful and patrician type of classical beauty. With the adoration of Mary rose the legend that she, too, had ascended bodily into heaven and was there crowned by her son and bidden to sit eternally upon his right hand that she might plead with him to mitigate the punishments of sinners, thus allowing that the judgment of this second member of the holy trinity might be fallible, or at least open to influence. Having raised the virgin to this immense height, the natural sequence was to go a step farther and grant to her also immaculate origin. This idea was first noticed in the eleventh century and steadily grew until in 1494 Sextus the Fourth officially recognized it and gave it the solemn sanction of the church, and in July, 1615, Paul the Fifth instituted the office commemorating her immaculate conception. Virgin worship has continued to grow and flourish, and even so late as 1854, Pius the Ninth issued a bull officially declaring Mary the "Mediatrix" between Christ and the faithful. Mary is not, however, the only intercessor that stands between man and his God. There is an immense horde of saints who also occupy positions of honor about the heavenly throne. These immortal semi-human beings are created by a decree of the Roman pontiff and their canonization has often been due to whimsical reasoning. That all the apostles, martyrs, and early Christian fathers should have been raised to this holy peerage is not so remarkable; but that such honor should have been conferred on the wicked, unscrupulous, and vicious Constantine, and his almost unknown mother Helena; on the powerful and warlike Charlemagne; and on the ambitious and ungrateful Thomas à Becket, seems strange to say the least. X.--THE SAINTS--GOOD AND EVIL SPIRITS. That this army of saints was originally created to replace the body of heroes and demi-gods of antiquity cannot be doubted. The compliance with which the church converted pagan deities into Christian heroes is perfectly well known, and it is shown in many ways. Ancient statues were declared to represent newly canonized saints to whom pagan attributes were unhesitatingly given--often most ridiculously. At the temple of Sebona, in Nubia, the Christians replaced the figure of the old god of the temple, which appeared in a fresco, by that of St. Peter, thus depicting King Rameses the Second as presenting his offering to the Christian saint! The statue of Jupiter in St. Peter's at Rome has been declared that of the erstwhile fisherman, and its original thunderbolts have been replaced by the keys, which the Christian mythologists have filched from the god Janus to bestow on their revered patron in accordance with the promise of Matthew xvi, 19. Rome is full of proofs of this conversion of heathen to Christian deities. The temple formerly sacred to the Bona Dea was dedicated to the Virgin Mary; the church of Saint Apollinaris stands on the spot formerly dedicated to Apollo; and the temple of Mars was given to St. Martina. The very names of some of the saints have an old familiar sound--as St. Baccho, St. Quirinus, St. Romula, St. Redempta, St. Concordia, St. Nympha, and St. Mercurius. The Christian symbolism of its heroes has also a decidedly pagan flavor. The ancient winged lion of the Egyptian mythology is made to portray St. Mark; the sacred bull denotes St. Luke; while St. John is generously supplied with both the eagle of Jove and the hawk's head of Horus. The idea of intercession, which is the principal attribute of all the saints, is also a very ancient religious theory and probably came with the other dogmas already mentioned from Alexandria, as we find that the Egyptians believed that some of their gods--and particularly the four gods of the dead--acted as mediators with the stern judge Osiris and attempted to turn aside his wrath and the punishment of sins. Much akin to the saints, though differing from them in form and in never having been mortal, are the angels. These beings combine the wings of the Roman victories with the sweet voices of the Teutonic elves and the classical sirens, and are in many ways similar to the famous northern valkyries who wore shirts of swan plumage and hovered over Scandinavian battlefields to receive the souls of falling heroes. The Hindu apsaras and Moslem houris belong to the same family. A few years ago a bitter controversy arose in New York Episcopal circles as to the sex of these unearthly creatures, some strenuously advocating their masculinity, while others gallantly asserted that they were essentially feminine, but the earlier idea was that they were entirely sexless, combining the characteristic virtues of both sexes. Apart from both saints and angels stands another figure in the Christian mythology--one, however, that has no actual counterpart in the ancient faiths. This is Satan. The classical religious systems had no such conception, their king of the dead being a gloomy and austere deity without any of the malicious or mischievous propensities of the more modern devil, and having no designs upon the welfare of mankind. The medieval conception of the devil was a grotesque compound of elements derived from all the pagan mythologies which Christianity superseded. From the sylvan deity Pan he gets his goat-like body, his horns and cloven hoofs; his lameness was due to his fall from heaven, in imitation of the fall of the Roman Vulcan; and his red beard was taken from the lightning god Thor, as was also his power over the thunderbolts; while his pitchfork is the converted trident of Neptune. That much of the absurd fabric of Christianity is built upon a belief in Satan cannot be denied, for the whole theology is based upon the necessity of a savior whose death atones for the sins of mankind, which were consequent upon man's fall from grace through the machinations of the devil. Had man never fallen, there were no need of a savior. Had man never been tempted, he would never have fallen, and in no words was the necessity of a belief in the devil more plainly set forth than by that most orthodox writer, des Mousseaux, in his "Moeurs et Pratiques des Demons," published in 1852. He says: "The Devil is the chief pillar of Faith. He is one of the grand personages whose life is closely allied to that of the church, and without his speech, which issued out so triumphantly from the mouth of the serpent, the fall of man could never have taken place. Thus, if it were not for him, the Savior, the Crucified, the Redeemer, would be but the most ridiculous of supernumeraries and the cross an insult to good sense!" In his preface to "Les Hauts Phenomènes de la Magie," des Mousseaux repeats this theory: "If magic and spiritualism were both but chimeras, we would have to bid an eternal farewell to all the rebellious angels now troubling the world; for thus we would have no more demons down here.... And if we lost our demons, we would lose our Savior likewise; for, from whom did that Savior save us? And then there would be no more Redeemer; for, from whom or what could that Redeemer redeem us? Hence, there would be no more Christianity." He evidently regards Satan as "the prince of this world" (John xii, 31; xvi, 11); "the god of this world" (Cor. iv, 4); and "the prince of the power of the air" (Eph. ii, 2). The universally accepted belief of Christendom in the almost absolute power of the devil was the cause of the most awful persecution of innocence that the world has ever seen. While the tortures of the heretics by the Inquisition had some cause of a political as well as ecclesiastical nature, the houndings of those accused of witchcraft and sorcery had no foundation save in superstition and gross ignorance. During the Christian era millions of persons have been destroyed for this crime in conformity to the command, "Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live" (Ex. xxii, 18). The Roman church recognized and punished the crime; Luther approved of the burning of witches; the Scotch reformers did likewise, and the Puritans of New England delighted in the persecution. While all religiously orthodox people accept the narrative of scriptural miracles with unquestioning faith and never cast a doubt on the greatest improbabilities so long as they are told of biblical heroes, these very people assign all the seeming supernatural affairs of post-scriptural times to the devil. Psychical phenomena which, if performed two thousand years ago by Jesus (such as the resurrection of Lazarus and the materialization to the Magdalene), they accept without hesitation, they brand as trickery or a delusion or Satan, when placed before them by a professed Spiritualist. Witches and wizards were condemned to horrible deaths by the medieval church for performing the very identical acts for which the same church canonized departed saints and instituted offices for their adoration and worship; and modern Christians smile and sneer derisively at fortune tellers, but condemn in holy horror as heretics those who refuse to believe in the foreseeing powers of the ancient Hebrew prophets. This Christian devil-worship, for it can be called little else, crept into Judaism during the Babylonian captivity, and was originally a recognition of the dual powers of good and evil, seemingly coequal. By placing Satan in opposition to God, in giving him eternal life, and endowing him with miraculous powers, and even allowing him to upset and vanquish the plans of God, Christians have made Satan equal, if not superior, to the Deity. A Puritan bigot hanging witches in New England was admitting in the plainest manner his faith in Satan's power, though it never occurred to him for an instant that these curious happenings might be attributed to God. The power of God to perform miracles was then, as now, a matter of the past. With the Protestant Reformation came the idea that no longer did God interfere for the benefit of man. In the seventeenth century God had ceased to work by other than natural agencies. His miraculous powers, if not lost, were at least suspended. But not so Satan--that archfiend was as powerful as ever, if not more so. He could inflict magical tortures on God's divinely elect and make them writhe in agony. Pious Cotton Mather had ceased to believe in divine miracles, but he had no doubt of devilish ones, and it appears to all students of that dark and shameful period of our history that the belief was rampant among the majority that God was vanquished and Satan ruled. Never was belief in the dual principles of good and evil more surely set forth in ancient Persia than it was in New England by such harsh, cruel, and bigoted priests as Mather and Parrish. Today, while all churchmen have grown more liberal, we still find both in pulpit and pew innumerable believers in the power of Satan to tempt and force erring humanity into wrong and sinful paths in miraculous salvation from which by God they have no faith. Today, instead of earthly and present salvation by the Deity from the clutches of Satan, the belief seems prevalent that a post-mortem salvation is more efficacious, and that all that is required for eternal bliss is belief in the vicarious atonement of the Christ. To hear our orthodox friends declaim on the powers of Satan almost makes one ready to believe that God is dead and Satan rules supreme. Such is the blasphemy of demonic faith. While Satan, as the arch-enemy, is somewhat similar to the Persian Ahriman, he is not alone in his wickedness. When Christianity came into power and supplanted paganism as the Roman state religion, it immediately debased all of the pagan gods, whom it did not appropriate to itself as saints, to devils and assigned them subordinate positions in hell, under command of the great Satan. And thus, all the beautiful water sprites, sylvan nymphs, spirits of the air, and other lesser deities, became the associates of wickedness, and, as such, continued, until a very recent date, to hold sway over the superstitious imaginations of the majority of Europeans. The mediæval church likewise invented the famous succubæ and incubi, the former demons impersonating the beautiful nymphs of the old mythology and attacking the virtue of youths with their seductive arts, while the latter, in imitation of the ancient satyrs, sought the virginity of unsuspecting maidens; all of which may readily be learned of in accounts of the many trials held by "the Holy Inquisition," in which such were condemned as had held intercourse with these demons. In many cases, women swearing to have had intercourse with incubi were merely suffering from erotic and nymphomaniac hallucinations, while others may have found it a convenient excuse for explaining illicit impregnations. Men, falling under the charms of women, found it a convenient method for disposing of their loves, after the infatuation had passed, by declaring them succubæ; and monks, who had contracted venereal diseases, laid their sufferings to these same fair demons. In the case of the monks, however, the succubæ were often of purely hallucinary origin, due to excessive asceticism together with the suppression of natural desires and a too faithful conformity to the ordinance of celibacy. Nymphomania is also prevalent in convents, owing to the unnatural sexual lives led by the nuns, who either remain truly chaste or abandon themselves to all sorts of debauchery and perverted lubricities. In former times these rages of demented women were supposed to have been caused by possession of demons, which tormented them at the orders of magicians, and advantage was often taken by the unscrupulous to accuse their enemies of the crime of sorcery, and thus cause their execution. One of the most famous of these horrible affairs was that of Loudin in Poitiers, where the nuns of the Ursuline convent, becoming hysterical and demented, swore themselves afflicted by Urbain Grandier, a priest of the local church, and despite the attempts of the rational bailiff and sensible civil lieutenants, some enemies of the curé among the exorcists managed to secure the arrest, torture, and final burning of the unfortunate man in 1632. Later, it was discovered that, being personally attractive, handsome and gallant, Grandier, who never denied his numerous amours, had incurred the enmity of the Loudin nuns by entirely ignoring their advances; and hell hath no fury like a woman scorned! These libidinous women, constantly brooding over disappointment to their fond hopes, gave such a character of demonic possession to their neurosis that advantage could be taken of it by rival priests to rid themselves of an envied enemy. The writhings, gesticulations, convulsions, etc., of these unfortunate women, combined with the indecency of their actions on the approach of the exorcists (caused merely by the approach of a male), were believed by the vulgar to be demonstrations of demonic possession. Other nuns, seeing the attention and notoriety thus gained by these sisters, although themselves free from dementia, could not resist the temptation to simulate its forms and thus acquire renown for themselves. Thus arose those horrible demonical scenes which occupied the attention of all Europe during the seventeenth century and seemed to point to the possession of all convents by devils. And not convents alone, for other hysterical women, without the walls, possessed of the same rage for notoriety, took up the character of demonic possessed and spread the vulgar superstition until it seems that every woman in Europe who was so unfortunate as to be in any way afflicted with tendencies to hysteria, neurosis, idiocy, or dementia of any character whatever, came to be regarded as in the power of a demon, which in turn was the slave of some magician. And thus, through the influence of an ignorant and unscrupulous priesthood, a powerful engine was placed at its disposal for the removal of enemies. Executions for sorcery continued until their very number and barbarity palled, and the wearied people were ready for their abolition, when the Reformation opened and with the accession of power, Protestantism, in this matter, at least, swayed the masses to reason once more. Dr. Figuier, in his "Histoire du Merveilleux," explains these demonical possessions as entirely due to hypnotism, and, ignoring the nymphomaniac theory, asserts that the exorcists themselves hypnotized the nuns for their own glory and for purposes of vengeance. One page 234 of volume I he says: "L'appareil deployé par les exorcistes, leurs adjurations, leurs gestes imposants et forcenés, tenaient lieu des manipulations que nos magnetiseurs emploient pour endormir leurs sujets. Operant sur des jeunes filles nerveuses, malades, melancoliques, les exorcistes produisaient chez elles une partie des phenomènes auxquels donné lieu le somnambulisme artificiel." The universal belief in evil spirits became a powerful engine for the advancement of the church. By its use all those who were inimical to the church could be put out of the way as comrades of devils, and, furthermore, the theory was advanced that only by the exorcisms of the church could man be protected from malevolent powers. Holy water, signs of the cross, repetitions of the name of Mary had full power to annul all the machinations of the demons, but only in the hands of the true believers was this efficacious. To preserve one from the dangers of demonic spite, absolute orthodoxy was essential, and thus a great premium was imposed upon strict adherence to the church. Thus was gross superstition a most powerful factor in the growth and spread of Christianity. According to Lecky: "There was scarcely a village or a church that had not, at some time, been the scene of supernatural interposition. The powers of light and the powers of darkness were regarded as visibly struggling for the mastery. Saintly miracles, supernatural cures, startling judgments, visions, prophecies, and prodigies of every order, attested the activity of the one, while witchcraft and magic, with all their attendant horrors, were the visible manifestations of the other.... Tens of thousands of victims perished by the most agonizing and protracted torments, without exciting the slightest compassion.... Nations that were separated by position, by interests, and by character, on this question were united." And the germ of all this evil lay in the very foundation of Christianity--the faith held in supernatural agencies. The belief in the supernatural agency in the temptation of Eve, the temptations of Jesus, the possibility of the miraculous conception, and the miracles of Christ, were but stepping-stones to faith in innumerable invisible but potent powers. One who can conscientiously believe in the supernatural as found between the covers of the Bible can, by but a slight stretch of the imagination, believe any preposterous tale that is woven about a supernatural agency. If one can believe a woman can conceive without contact with semen, one can believe some old woman can dry up his cow. If one can believe that Jesus actually raised Lazarus from the dead, one can believe that a man can kill him by sticking pins in a wax effigy. If one can believe that Elijah ascended to heaven in a fiery chariot, one can believe that Goody Jones rode a broomstick through the air. If one can believe that the Christ was actually tempted by the devil, one can believe in succubæ and incubi. It is all a matter of logical reasoning. As soon as a Christian's intellectual powers develop to a point where he can find no place for the miraculous in the world about him, he begins to doubt that which was in the world before him; but, regarding theological tales, he either places them in another category or ignores them, unless faced with them, when he crawls and calls them "sacred mysteries." That an old woman can sour his milk or kill his child by the evil eye he does not believe, for reason has taught him otherwise. And for the same reason he would not believe his daughter if she told him she was pregnant with a miraculous child. He did not believe Josephine Woodbury when she made a similar statement in Boston a few years ago. But he does believe it of Mary, because it is a "holy mystery," and is in another category. He has inherited his faith from a long line of orthodox ancestors, and he has never stopped to consider it by the light of pure reason. It is fortunate for the dogma of the virgin birth that it took root when people believed such things, otherwise Mary would have been adorned with the scarlet letter. Feasts, fasts and elaborate ceremonials were important features of the most ancient worships, and it is not, therefore, strange to find somewhat modified adaptations of them in the Christian church. For, wherever Christianity wandered and found firmly implanted religious theories and customs, it immediately gave them new significations and accepted them, until finally the greater part of paganism was gathered from all parts of the civilized world and amalgamated into one strong theological organization. Finding in almost every nation a festival at the winter solstice, in commemoration of the accouchement of the celestial, virgin queen of heaven, and the birth of the sun-god, the Christian fathers decided to adopt the 25th of December as the natal day of their Christ. Mithras, Osiris, Horus, Bacchus, Adonis and Buddha were all said to have been born on this day, and it is the date of one of the greatest religious festivals of India, during which the people decorate their houses with garlands and make presents to relatives and friends; a custom adopted by the Christians in much the same manner as was that of the ancient German yule-log, burned in honor of the sun-god. XI.--RELIGIOUS HOLIDAYS AND RITES. The winter solstice was also the time of the great Scandinavian festival in honor of Frey, son of Odin and Frigga, who was supposed to have been born at this time. The Jews, likewise, have a feast beginning on the 25th of December, which lasts eight days, and is in memory of the victory of the Maccabees over the Greeks. It is called the feast of Hanuca. A great annual festival, called the "feast of lamps," was held by the Egyptians in the early part of the year in honor of the goddess Neith, during which lamps of oil were burned all night before the houses. This festival was renamed Candlemas or the "purification of the virgin," and was adopted by the Christian church. The ancient pagan inhabitants of Europe annually celebrated a spring festival which began with a week's indulgence in all kinds of sports and was called the carne-vale, or taking farewell of meat, because a fast of forty days immediately followed. In Germany this was held in honor of the Saxon goddess Hertha, or Ostara, or Eostre--as you may prefer to call her--whose name was adopted as Easter by the Christians as the name to be applied to the end of their lenten period. Among the Syrians it was the custom to celebrate an elaborate festival at the time of the spring equinox in honor of the glorious Adonis, beloved of the great goddess Astarte. This worship was later introduced into Greece, whence it traveled to Rome with the majority of Grecian mythological theories. It was later introduced into Egypt, where it was annually celebrated at Alexandria, the cradle of Christianity, until the latter part of the fourth century, when a Christian significance was given it. The myth of Adonis is too well known to need repetition here, and its parallel to that of the Christ is readily seen. The ceremonies now held in Rome at Easter are but slightly different from those held there at the same time of year centuries ago. This similarity was explained away by the assertion of the Christian fathers "that a long time before there were Christians in existence, the devil had taken pleasure to have their future mysteries and ceremonies copied by his worshipers"--a very simple and satisfactory explanation! That Easter is in reality an astronomical festival in honor of the sun-god seems conclusive from the fact that it occurs on no settled date, but takes place on the first Sunday after the first full moon after the passing of the vernal equinox, which, for convenience, is fixed at March 21. Among the many Christian fasts of pagan origin none is more familiar to all than the weekly Friday abstinence from meat. Under the old mythology, Friday, the dies veneris, was sacred to Venus, and on that day the devout worshipers of this charming goddess ate nothing but fish, as all the "finny tribe" were sacred to her, and considered proper diet for those that worshiped at her shrine. When the Bishop of Rome assumed the power and dignity of head of the western church, he also assumed all the prerogatives of the ancient pontifex maximus (who was supposed to be the direct physical communication between the people and the deities), and many of the attributes of the emperors. He adopted the gorgeous vestments of the ancient high priest and even stretched forth a foot to be kissed, as Heliogabalus had done. He considered himself capable of raising such as he saw fit to semi-divine honors by canonization, just as the emperors had raised altars to their favorites, and he claimed precedence over every monarch of the earth, just as they also had done. But the Roman pontiff is not unique in his position of viceroy of the deity. The grand lama of Thibet is considered as the representative of Buddha and has the power of dispensing divine blessings on whomsoever he will. Taoism also has a pope who resides on the Lung-hû mountain, in the department of Kwang-hsi, who bears the surname Chang and is called "Heavenly Master." The best known rites of the Christian church are probably those of baptism, confession and communion, with which are associated the ideas of purification, prayer and transubstantiation. The rite of baptism, like all ideas which refer to the purification of sin by water, is a most ancient one. Rivers, as sources of purification, were at an early date invested with a sacred character, and every great river was supposed to be permeated with a divine essence and its waters were believed to cleanse from all mortal guilt and contamination. The Ganges and the Jordan are well known examples of this faith, and vases of Ganges water are to be found in almost every dwelling in India for religious purposes. In Mongolia and Thibet children are named by the priests, who immerse them in holy water while reading a prescribed prayer, after which the name is bestowed. Baptism preceded initiation into the mysteries of both the Egyptian Isis and the Persian Mithras, and was held to be the means of regeneration and of remission of sins. Tertullian, noticing the great similarity between the Christian and pagan baptisms, naïvely remarked that the devil "baptizes some, of course, such as believe in him and are faithful to him; he promises expiation of sins from the bath, and, if my memory of Mithras serves me still, in this rite he signs his soldiers on their foreheads." Much akin to baptism is the general use by the Christian church of so-called holy water, which is ascribed to Pope Alexander the First, who ruled during the first century. This pontiff probably did little more than officially to condone, by his papal sanction, the very general use of lustral water, which the Romans had inherited from their pagan ancestors; for lustral water was always kept in vases at the entrance of the Roman temples, that those passing in and out might sprinkle themselves with it; and the priests used a sprinkling brush called the aspersorium with which they threw the purifying water over their congregations, in the same manner as modern priests use the hyssop. The druids gave, or sprinkled upon, the worshipers water in which mistletoe had been immersed or steeped. Similar to the idea of purification by baptism is that of purification by confession and prayer. The idea involved in confession is that the declaration of the crime relieves the conscience of its criminality. In Iceland and among the Scandinavian and Teutonic peoples in general, murder ceased to be a crime when the slayer had declared himself guilty. Among the Jews confession was practiced, the purpose of its institution being that the priest might judge of the sacrifice required for the expiation of the sin committed, and, also, that every crime might be rehearsed over the scapegoat. The Peruvians confessed their sins to their priests with the exception of the Incas, who confessed to the sun. At the famous Samothracian mysteries a priest was especially charged with hearing the confessions of great criminals and with granting them absolution. Among Protestant Christians confession is often made directly to the supreme deity in the form of prayer, which, like most other religious practices, is an eminently pagan custom. The Assyrians, Babylonians, Greeks, Romans, Persians, and most other ancient peoples offered sacrifices on the altars of their gods to propitiate them, and accompanied these offerings with prayers. Today, instead of presenting wines and viands to his god, the devout Christian offers verbal expressions of a contrite spirit or, more often, asks a favor. He demands, begs, or advises through this method, according to his own nature and disposition. The expression used in modern orthodox Protestant prayers, "through our Lord, Jesus Christ," is merely the concrete expression of the idea of mediation. The great supreme God was looked upon by most nations of antiquity as being too great, too sublime, too holy, to be addressed directly; and, in this lofty conception of the deity, they prayed for favors to mediators whom they created to request boons from the real ruler of heaven and earth. Among the Hindus, supplications were addressed to the various apotheosized incarnations of Vishnu, rather than to the great Brahma; the Greeks made supplication to numerous lesser gods, rather than to Zeus; Persians addressed Mithras instead of Ormuzd; and the modern Romanist kneels to saints and martyrs, or Jesus or his mother, at whose shrines they place offerings which are bribes for favors; but almost never do they immediately supplicate the supreme God. In this they are certainly less blasphemous than their Protestant fellows, who do not hesitate to talk familiarly to God of the most trivial affairs. Belief in the efficacy of prayer is an absurdity which owes its origin to a hereditary trait of humanity, descended through a long line of superstitious ancestors. Primitive man prayed to his dead fathers for their good will, believing them more powerful in their post mortem state than during life. The ancients offered prayers at the shrines of their various gods and, among all nations, from time immemorial, deities have been supplicated to bestow gifts and avert misfortunes. The overcharged mind of the superstitious has ever found relief in expressing its troubles to the imaginary beings on whom it has bestowed superhuman attributes. All over the world, in all languages, have arisen various petitions to the deities, and still do they continue to arise. Savages pray to their idols, Moslems crouch facing Mecca to pray to Allah, Hindus pray to the avatars of Vishnu, and all Christendom besieges the throne of God in constant supplication. Can any rational mind believe that these numerous, varied and even antagonistic petitions will be answered? Some are praying for rain, some for a cessation of it, some for health, some for happiness, some for material blessings, and some for spiritual welfare. Vain repetitions! The material universe is governed by immutable laws which all the breath in creation wasted in prayer cannot in any way affect; while such spiritual benefits as morality, character and virtue "are equally dependent on the invariable laws of cause and effect." Prayers for forgiveness of sins are perhaps the most common, as well as the most absurd, that are daily offered. Sin is the breaking of a material or moral law, and no law can be broken without the transgressor's incurring the penalty. Is it not absurd of the church to preach the immutable justice of God, and at the same time declare that sinners may escape punishment by prayer? Communion, or union with the deity, is an idea of great antiquity and has been common to all religions; although the methods practiced are numerous and varied. The more common mode, however, is by the consumption of consecrated foods and drinks, with the idea that these have acquired (by the act of consecration) a divine character of which the communicant becomes a partaker through their reception. The dogma of the eucharist was instituted many centuries before the Christian era and was believed in by the ancient Egyptians (from whom the Christians probably received it through the Alexandrian school), who, at the time of the celebration of the resurrection of Osiris, ate a sacred wafer, which, after consecration by a priest, was declared the flesh of the god. In ancient Greece, bread was worshiped as Ceres and wine as Bacchus; and, when the devout ate the bread and drank the wine, they claimed they were eating the flesh and drinking the blood of their deities. The ancient Mexicans used bread of corn meal mixed with blood, which, after, having been consecrated by the priests, was given to the people to eat as the flesh of Quetzalcoatl, much to the surprise and horror of the first Spanish missionaries, who ascribed it to mockery of their holy eucharist due to Satan. XII--THE EUCHARIST. The primal origin of the eucharist probably occurred far back in the period of universal anthropophagy. Most savage and semi-savage peoples have practiced cannibalism because they believed that by eating the flesh of the dead they gained the qualities of the deceased. Just as some Africans eat tiger to become brave, savages ate their courageous foes to attain their virtues. Following this same idea further, the belief was established that by consuming the flesh of a god, supernatural powers might be acquired. Thus the early Christian missionaries to the New World found such customs in Peru and Mexico. Father Acosta described one of these festivals which occurred annually each May in Mexico, wherein the statue of a god was made of dough, and "killed" by an arrow in the hand of a priest. The god was then broken in pieces which by means of "certain ceremonies ... were blessed and consecrated for the flesh and bones of this idoll." These pieces the priest gave "to the people in manner of a communion who received it with such feare, and reverence, as it was an admirable thing, saying that they did eate the flesh and bones of God." Likewise came the idea that sacrifices to the gods in some way attained godlike characteristics, and so the Guatemalan priests ate the bodies of the sacrificed. The words of the modern Roman priest, "hoc est corpus meum," which are supposed, by some magical influence, to cause the actual transubstantiation in the celebration of the eucharist, remind one forcibly of the dotting of the memorial Chinese tablet by a mandarin, by which official act the spirit of the departed, to whom it is dedicated, is presumed to take up residence in the new abode. As a logical deduction from a given hypothesis, any Roman priest is greater than the virgin. She conceived God but once, while the priest may through his mass create the body of the Christ whenever he so desires. Every time a priest performs this function he is the father of God. However, in spite of the absurdity of the practice, to deprive the communion of the real presence is to make it a senseless and useless ceremony. While the communicants believe in the efficacy of the wafer as the actual body, there is reason for absorbing it, as they thus unite themselves with the actual spirit of the Christ. But the moment this dogma is rejected, the rite becomes futile, and nothing is more ridiculous than its perpetuation in the Protestant churches. The quibble that it is performed in memory of Jesus is a fallacy. In Unitarian churches it is an arrant absurdity (one that is retained in many cases simply because the old historical churches of that denomination have inherited fine old communion plate which is proudly displayed), and one can only respect and admire Ralph Waldo Emerson's stand in the matter, when he preferred to relinquish his remunerative and honorable pastorate in the Second Church of Boston (the only pulpit he ever filled) rather than celebrate this anachronistic and indefensible rite. Jerome carried his reverence for the Eucharistic bread [1] so far that he considered that the table on which it was consecrated, together with the cloth in which it was wrapped, and the other utensils connected with its service, were to be worshiped with equal respect as that given the body and blood of the Savior. This theory led to the consecration of altars, which by a decree of the Council of Epaone, in 517, in imitation of the Jewish and pagan sacrificial altars, were ordered to be of stone, which material had been originally chosen as the most suitable material for the execution of the sacrifices, whose blood should flow over it, without danger of absorption. Another of the ancient pagan ideas which took a strong hold upon Christianity and rose to an abnormal power during the middle ages was that of monasticism with its accompanying asceticism. There is scarcely a religion of ancient and modern times that does not recognize asceticism as an element of its system. Buddha taught his disciples a religion of abstinence, and, among the Buddhists, there are ordained and tonsured priests, living in monasteries under vows of celibacy, while there are similar asylums for women. Brahmanism also has its orders of ascetics and Hinduism has its fakirs. Fasting and self-denial were observances required by the Greeks of those who desired initiation into the mysteries; the Jews observed many fasts; and the Egyptian priests passed their novitiate in the deserts engaged in prayer and living in caves. Like many other Christian customs, the monastic habit probably came from Egypt, and it was considered by Gibbon to have had a potent influence on the fall of the western empire, in that it removed from active and useful life so many able-bodied men and women. XIII.--SPREAD OF CHRISTIANITY. Having now shown that there is nothing new in Christianity; nothing in which it differs essentially from the older faiths; having shown that it brought no new ideas in its dogmas, practices, or morality, but a few words are necessary to explain its marvelous growth and rapid acceptance. Christianity grew so rapidly, and was adopted so readily in many parts of the world simply because it was so cosmopolitan and elastic. It went forth to proselyte in a very conciliatory manner, embracing and absorbing every deeply rooted theological idea and custom which obstructed its path, and, in every way, exerting itself to propitiate its converts. And it was not until it became strong and powerful and was well supported by fanatical adherents that it dared to assume the rôle of conqueror. Then, when the period of its strength was full, its tone changed and, strong in self-confidence, Christianity became militant and strode forth in armor to vanquish with the sword and fill the world with blood. One of the reasons for the rapid acceptance of Christianity among the Romans and its remarkable growth in their dependencies was that for centuries the people had ceased to take their religion seriously. The vulgar masses, undoubtedly then as now, and at all times, unthinkingly swallowed all that was taught them of their deities, but the writings of cultivated men show clearly that for centuries the worship and reverence of their ancestral gods had but slight influence upon their ethical ideas. Lucretius (95-52 B. C.), the exponent of the Epicurean doctrines, regarded the gods as the creations of human fear. Ennius (239-169 B. C.) translated and expounded the writings of Euhemerus (316 B. C.), wherein it was claimed that all the ancient myths were historical events, that the gods were originally kings who were accorded post mortem worship by their grateful subjects. The Stoics regarded the gods as personifications of the different attributes of nature. Cicero adopted the Platonic conception of the deity as mind freed from all taint of matter, while Ovid made the gods ridiculous in his mocking "Metamorphoses," and, in his lascivious descriptions of their amours, degraded them forever as ethical models. Horace likewise mocked them. The glorious military conquests of the Roman arms in Asia and Africa brought the soldiers into contact with alien religions, and the germs instilled in the minds of the armies spread among all the peoples of Rome's domains, upon their return. Likewise the ever-increasing influx of foreigners, bringing with them their native gods and theological systems, had more or less influence, while the apotheoses of the emperors gave a powerful impetus to the degradation of the ancient faith. The vulgar clung to their ancient shrines and the cultured sneered at them for so doing. They bent the knee in public and they laughed mockingly in private. In such a state was the religion of Rome when the first Christians began to proselyte; and on such fertile ground, amid the ruins of an ancient faith, the seed readily took root and rapidly spread out. Any other faith, supported by sturdy, conscientious and indomitable missionaries, would have done the same. The old faith was dead and the time was ripe for something new and vigorous. As the civilized world was then under one powerful government, which allowed no political discord within its borders and which granted absolute religious freedom, the Christian missionaries could travel in safety from one province to another and, without fear of molestation, could propagate their doctrines among the people through the media of the Greek and Latin tongues, which were universal throughout the empire. Early Christianity was merely a sect of Judaism, and as the Jews were scattered all through the Roman provinces, every Jewish settlement having its synagogue which the Christian missionaries visited in order to preach their message, "the new religion, which was undertaken in the name of the God of Abraham, and Moses, found a sphere already prepared for itself." The new sect was naturally welcomed by the Roman Jews, as it was a purely national religion, founded upon the teachings of a Jewish peasant for the Jewish people. There is nothing in the gospels which portrays Jesus as anything other than a prophet to his own nation. While his moral doctrines, like all ethical principles, are applicable to all races, he was ignorant of all peoples save his own, and it was to them alone that he preached, proclaiming his messiahship for them only. He was content to remain within the boundaries of his own country and expressed no wish nor desire to visit other lands. Had it remained as Jesus desired, Christianity would never have been separated from Judaism. It was owing to the direct disobedience of Peter and Paul in this particular, that Christianity spread among the gentiles (Acts xiv, 46). In sending forth his apostles to preach his mission, Jesus commanded, "Go not into the way of the gentiles, and into any city of the Samaritans enter ye not: But go rather to the lost sheep of the house of Israel" (Matt. x, 5-6). When appealed to by the Canaanite woman, he said, "I am not sent but unto the lost sheep of the house of Israel" (Matt. xv, 24). It was to the Jews that he spoke when he said, "Ye are the salt of the earth" (Matt. v. 13). "Ye are the light of the world" (Matt. v, 14). It was in reference to the twelve tribes of Israel that he so numbered his apostles (Matt. xix, 28). And it was of his compatriots that he thought when prophesying his resurrection, "Ye shall not have gone over the cities of Israel, till the Son of Man be come" (Matt. x, 23). There is no thought of a universal mission in all this. His mission and sacrifice were for his own nation, and, as Paul writes to Titus, he "gave himself that he might purify unto himself a peculiar people" (Tit. ii, 14). Thinking probably of the political strife which his messiahship would cause, Jesus said, "I came not to bring peace, but a sword" (Matt. x, 34), in which remark he was a truer prophet than the heavenly host that sang at his birth "on earth peace, good will toward men" (Luke ii, 14). "The Church of Rome has shed more innocent blood than any other institution that ever existed among mankind," says Lecky in his "Rationalism in Europe" (vol. ii, p. 40). The Holy Office in Spain burned over 31,000 persons and condemned to punishment hardly less severe 290,000. During the reign of Charles the Fifth 50,000 heretics were executed in the Netherlands and on February 16, 1508, the Holy Office condemned all the inhabitants, numbering 3,000,000 of people, to death as heretics, and Philip the Second confirmed the decree and ordered its instant execution. The whole history of Christianity, in all its forms, reeks with blood and smells to heaven with carrion. In the first centuries Christians persecuted pagans or, divided among themselves, persecuted each other as heretics. Later arose the feuds of orthodox and Arian, then came a united Christendom against Islam, followed by Protestant wars. In these Catholics murdered, pillaged, and devastated Protestants and burned and tortured them as heretics by ecclesiastical tribunals; Protestants persecuted and executed Catholics and, divided among themselves, persecuted one another. In the sixteenth century Anglican Episcopalians persecuted Catholics and Nonconformists. In the seventeenth century Puritans persecuted Catholics, Episcopalians, and Quakers, and so on. The whole history of this religion is a long narration of blasphemous and degrading theories propagated by violence, hypocrisy and crime. Christian charity is a delusion which is found only among the persecuted, who, the instant the scale turns, become the ruling faction, forget its meaning, and hasten to avenge their sufferings in persecutions. No other religion has so bloody a history as Christianity. The old heathen religions went calmly on their way, indifferent to one another and showing the most perfect toleration. Rival gods of rival nations were worshiped in temples side by side, without conflict or ill feeling. Buddhists and Brahmins mildly flourish in proximity. But Christians who believe that the Christ was sacrificed for love of humanity, that their gospel is one of love, peace, and good will, vie with one another to outstrip the ferocity of wild beasts. While many students believe that Jesus was a purely mythical being, without actual existence save in the brains of religious Christians, I see no reason to doubt that a certain Jewish rabbi may have come out of the rebellious province of Galilee about the time of Herod. Such messiahs had come before him and such have succeeded him. Some of the messiahs subsequent to Jesus were: one who appeared in Persia in 1138, another in Arabia in 1167, and one in Moravia at the close of the twelfth century. Eldavid proclaimed himself messiah in Persia in 1199, Sabathai Tzevi assumed the title of "King of Kings" in 1666 and was executed at Constantinople by the Sultan. So late as 1829 there appeared in India the eight-year-old son of a peasant who was a wonderful serpent charmer and was called Marayum Powar. It was an ancient belief that the ability to handle serpents unharmed was a proof that one had become perfectly holy--absorbed in God! Therefore, numerous people came to believe Powar a god and in ten months ten thousand followers were about him, baptizing and performing miraculous cures--and his cult seemed well on the road to establishment when, over-confident of his power, he was bitten by a serpent and died. His followers, after vainly awaiting his resurrection, dispersed. That Jesus' whole career is lost in encircling myth is no proof that the original figure never existed. There is plenty of historical evidence to show that the central portion of Europe was once ruled by a king named Karl, and we do not doubt this simply because a great cloud of myths has been gathered about the name of St. Charlemagne, any more than we feel bound to believe that because he once lived he must now necessarily exist, sleeping in a mountain, until it shall be necessary for him to spring forth and save the German fatherland. One set of students assert that the Christ was merely the personification of vegetable life, claiming that his death and resurrection typify the death and revivification of vegetation. Others hold that he is the modern phase of the eternal sun-god. To sustain this hypothesis the following allegorical interpretation of his supposed career is offered as an explanation. He was born on the early dawn of the twenty-fifth day of December, the day on which commences the sun's apparent revolution around the earth; his birth was announced by the brilliant morning star; his virgin mother was the pure and beautiful dawn; his temptation was his struggle with the adverse clouds which he dispersed; his trial, execution, and death were emblematic of the solar decline and crucifixion at the beginning of winter; his descent into hell was typical of the three days of the winter solstice; and his resurrection and ascension refer to the return of the sun after its seeming extinction. I have now shown that among the great majority of the nations of antiquity, no matter as to how they may have differed in the details, all held one general idea of faith in a savior-mediator between man and the supreme deity. Some such medium seemed necessary to them, for they had not reached that intellectual plane on which one feels able to hold direct communication with the creator. Modern Christianity, in all its forms, still panders to this ancient superstition that man must needs have an agent between himself and his God. He must have an intercessor between his weakness and God's power--and vengeance. But when the human mind is freed from superstition and men learn that right living and a clean ethical code is all that is required, then they will cease to bow, either physically or mentally, to any humanly invented mediator, and their enlarged ideas of the justice of the supreme deity will prohibit any belief in impossible demi-gods. However, for the majority, that happy time of emancipation is still in the distant future, and, until its dawn lightens the general intelligence, men will continue to adore and supplicate the mediator whom inheritance and environment have taught them to revere, as Krishna, Buddha, Mithras, or the Christ, as the case may be. BIBLIOGRAPHY. Apocryphal New Testament, Being All the Gospels, Epistles and Other Pieces Now Extant, Attributed in the First Four Centuries to Jesus Christ, His Apostles, and their Companions, and not Included in the New Testament by its Compilers. London. Printed for William Hone, 1821. Baring-Gould, S.--Curious Myths of the Middle Ages. London. 1877. Legends of the Patriarchs and Prophets, and other Old Testament Characters. New York. 1872. The Origin and Development of Religious Beliefs. New York. 1870. 2 vols. Blavatsky, H. P.--Isis Unveiled: A Master-key to the Mysteries of Ancient and Modern Science and Mythology. New York. 1891. 2 vols. Bourke, John G.--Scatalogic Rites of All Nations. Washington. 1891. Bunsen, Christian Charles Josias.--Christianity and Mankind; Their Beginnings and Prospects. London. 1854. 7 vols. God in History; or, The Progress of Man's Faith in the Moral Order of the World. London. 1868. 3 vols. Castan, L'Abee Em.--Les Origines du Christianisme d'apres la tradition catholique. Paris. 1869. 2 vols. Les Origines du Christianisme d'apres la critique rationaliste contemporaine. Paris. 1868. Chantepepie de la Saussaye, P. D.--The Religion of the Teutons. Boston. 1902. Cheetham, S.--The Mysteries--Pagan and Christian. London. 1897. Christlieb, Theodore.--Modern Doubt and Christian Belief. New York. 1874. Clodd, Edward.--Myths and Dreams. London. 1885. Colenso, John William.--Lectures on the Pentateuch and Moabite Stone. London. 1873. Conway, Moncure Daniel.--Idols and Ideals, with an essay on Christianity. New York. 1877. Doane, T. W.--Bible Myths and Their Parallels in Other Religions. New York. Dorman, Rushton M.--The Origin of Primitive Superstitions, etc. Philadelphia. 1881. Draper, John William.--History of the Conflict between Religion and Science. New York. 1881. History of the Intellectual Development of Europe. New York. 1878. 2 vols. Farrar, J. A.--Paganism and Christianity. London. 1891. Primitive Manners and Customs. New York. 1879. Figuier, Louis.--Histoire du Merveilleux dans les temps modernes. Paris. 1880. 4 vols. Fiske, John.--Myths and Myth-Makers. Boston. 1901. Frazer, J. C.--The Golden Bough. London. 1890. 2 vols. Frothingham, Octavius Brooks.--The Cradle of the Christ. New York. 1877. Gibbon, Edward.--The History of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire. Philadelphia. 1876. 6 vols. De Gubernatis, Angelo.--Zoological Mythology; or, The Legends of Animals. London. 1872. 2 vols. Hardwick, Charles.--Christ and Other Masters. London. 1874. Hargraves, Jennings.--The Rosicrucians. Their Rites and Mysteries. London. 1870. 2 vols. Harnack, Adolph.--The Expansion of Christianity in the First Three Centuries. Translated by James Moffatt. New York. 1904. 2 vols. Herodotus.--Translation of G. C. Macauley. London. 1890. 2 vols. Hislop, Alexander.--The Two Babylons; or, The Papal Worship, etc. Edinburgh. 1862. Hone, William.--Ancient Mysteries Described, etc. London. 1823. Hudson, Thompson Jay.--The Law of Psychic Phenomena. Chicago. 1896. Inman, Thomas.--Ancient Faiths and Modern. London. 1876. Ancient Pagan and Modern Christian Symbolism. London. 1869. Jameson, Mrs.--Legends of the Madonna. London. 1852. Jevons, Frank Byron.--An Introduction to the History of Religion. London. 1896. Lang, Andrew.--Custom and Myth. London. 1884. Myth, Ritual, and Religion. London. 1887. 2 vols. Lecky, William Edward Hartpole.--History of European Morals from Augustus to Charlemagne. London. 1877. 2 vols. History of the Rise and Influence of the Spirit of Rationalism in Europe. New York. 1866. 2 vols. Kundy, J. P.--Monumental Christianity. London. 1889. Macdonald, James.--Religion and Myth. London. 1893. Middleton, Conyers.--A Letter from Rome. London. 1847. Des Mousseaux.--Les Haunts Phenomenes de la Magie Moeurs et Pratiques des Demons. 1852. Muller, Max.--Chips from a German Workshop. London. 1867. 2 vols. Orr, James.--The Virgin Birth of Christ. New York. 1907. Picart, Bernard.--The Ceremonies and Religious Customs of the Various Nations of the Known World, etc. London. 1733. 7 vols. Priestley, Joseph.--An History of the Corruptions of Christianity. Birmingham. 1793. 2 vols. Renan, Ernest.--The Life of Jesus. Translated by C. E. Wilboir. New York. 1865. Sharpe, Samuel.--Egyptian Mythology and Egyptian Christianity. London. 1863. Smith, W. Robertson.--Lectures on the Religion of the Semites. Edinburgh. 1889. Strauss, David Friedrich.--The Life of Jesus. Translated by George Eliot. London. 1892. Tuttle, Hudson.--The Career of the Christ-Idea in History. Boston. The Career of the God-Idea in History. Boston. NOTE [1] The use of unleavened bread by the Greek church caused great disputes between it and the Latin in the eleventh century, but the latter finally accepted it on the argument that as the Christ instituted the supper during the passover, he must have used it, as there was no leaven procurable at that time. 
55575	----	THE HISTORICAL CHRIST; OR, AN INVESTIGATION OF THE VIEWS OF Mr. J. M. ROBERTSON, Dr. A. DREWS, and Prof. W. B. SMITH BY FRED. C. CONYBEARE, M.A., F.B.A., HONORARY FELLOW OF UNIVERSITY COLLEGE, OXFORD; HON. LL.D. OF THE UNIVERSITY OF ST. ANDREWS; HON. DOCTOR OF THEOLOGY OF GIESSEN [ISSUED FOR THE RATIONALIST PRESS ASSOCIATION, LIMITED] LONDON: WATTS & CO., 17 JOHNSON'S COURT, FLEET STREET, E.C. 1914 CONTENTS PAGE PREFACE vii CHAP. I. HISTORICAL METHOD 1 II. PAGAN MYSTERY PLAYS 81 III. THE ARGUMENT FROM SILENCE 96 IV. THE EPISTLES OF PAUL 125 V. EXTERNAL EVIDENCE 154 VI. THE ART OF CRITICISM 167 VII. DR. JENSEN 202 EPILOGUE 214 INDEX 227 PREFACE This little volume was written in the spring of the year 1913, and is intended as a plea for moderation and good sense in dealing with the writings of early Christianity; just as my earlier volumes entitled Myth, Magic, and Morals and A History of New Testament Criticism were pleas for the free use, in regard to the origins of that religion, of those methods of historical research to which we have learned to subject all records of the past. It provides a middle way between traditionalism on the one hand and absurdity on the other, and as doing so will certainly be resented by the partisans of each form of excess. The comparative method achieved its first great triumph in the field of Indo-European philology; its second in that of mythology and folk-lore. It is desirable to allow to it its full rights in the matter of Christian origins. But we must be doubly careful in this new and almost unworked region to use it with the same scrupulous care for evidence, with the same absence of prejudice and economy of hypothesis, to which it owes its conquests in other fields. The untrained explorers whom I here criticize discover on almost every page connections in their subject-matter where there are and can be none, and as regularly miss connections where they exist. Parallelisms and analogies of rite, conduct, and belief between religious systems and cults are often due to other causes than actual contact, inter-communication, and borrowing. They may be no more than sporadic and independent manifestations of a common humanity. It is not enough, therefore, for one agent or institution or belief merely to remind us of another. Before we assert literary or traditional connection between similar elements in story and myth, we must satisfy ourselves that such communication was possible. The tale of Sancho Panza and his visions of a happy isle, over which he shall hold sway when his romantic lord and master, Don Quixote, has overcome with his good sword the world and all its evil, reminds us of the naïf demand of the sons of Zebedee (Mark x, 37) to be allowed to sit on the right hand and the left of their Lord, so soon as he is glorified. With equal simplicity (Matthew xix, 28) Jesus promises that in the day of the regeneration of Israel, when the Son of Man takes his seat on his throne of glory, Peter and his companions shall also take their seats on twelve thrones to judge the twelve tribes of Israel. The projected mise en scène is exactly that of a Persian great king with his magnates on their several "cushions" of state around him. There is, again, a close analogy psychologically between Dante's devout adoration of Beatrice in heaven and Paul's of the risen Jesus. These two parallels are closer than most that Mr. Robertson discovers between Christian story and Pagan myth, yet no one in his senses would ever suggest that Cervantes drew his inspiration from the Gospels or Dante from the Pauline Epistles. In criticizing the Gospels it is all the more necessary to proceed cautiously, because the obscurantists are incessantly on the watch for solecisms--or "howlers," as a schoolboy would call them; and only too anxious to point to them as of the essence of all free criticism of Christian literature and history. Re-reading these pages after the lapse of many months since they were written, I have found little to alter, though Prof. A. C. Clark, who has been so good as to peruse them, has made a few suggestions which, where the sheets were not already printed, I have embodied. I append a list of errata calling for correction. Fred. C. Conybeare. March 1, 1914. CHAPTER I HISTORICAL METHOD [Orthodox obscurantism the parent of Sciolism] In Myth, Magic, and Morals (Chapter IX) I have remarked that the Church, by refusing to apply in the field of so-called sacred history the canons by which in other fields truth is discerned from falsehood, by beatifying credulous ignorance and anathematizing scholarship and common sense, has surrounded the figure of Jesus with such a nimbus of improbability that it seems not absurd to some critics of to-day to deny that he ever lived. The circumstance that both in England and in Germany the books of certain of these critics--in particular, Dr. Arthur Drews, Professor W. Benjamin Smith, and Mr. J. M. Robertson--are widely read, and welcomed by many as works of learning and authority, requires that I should criticize them rather more in detail than I deemed it necessary to do in that publication. [B. Croce on nature of History] Benedetto Croce well remarks in his Logica (p. 195) that history in no way differs from the physical sciences, insofar as it cannot be constructed by pure reasoning, but rests upon sight or vision of the fact that has happened, the fact so perceived being the only source of history. In a methodical historical treatise the sources are usually divided into monuments and narratives; by the former being understood whatever is left to us as a trace of the accomplished fact--e.g., a contract, a letter, or a triumphal arch; while narratives consist of such accounts of it as have been transmitted to us by those who were more or less eye-witnesses thereof, or by those who have repeated the notices or traditions furnished by eye-witnesses. [Relative paucity of evangelic tradition] Now it may be granted that we have not in the New Testament the same full and direct information about Jesus as we can derive from ancient Latin literature about Julius Cæsar or Cicero. We have no monuments of him, such as are the commentaries of the one or the letters and speeches of the other. It is barely credible that a single one of the New Testament writers, except perhaps St. Paul, ever set eyes on him or heard his voice. It is more than doubtful whether a single one of his utterances, as recorded in the Gospels, retains either its original form or the idiom in which it was clothed. A mass of teaching, a number of aphorisms and precepts, are attributed to him; but we know little of how they were transmitted to those who repeat them to us, and it is unlikely that we possess any one of them as it left his lips. [and presence of miracles in it,] And that is not all. In the four Gospels all sorts of incredible stories are told about him, such as that he was born of a virgin mother, unassisted by a human father; that he walked on the surface of the water; that he could foresee the future; that he stilled a storm by upbraiding it; that he raised the dead; that he himself rose in the flesh from the dead and left his tomb empty; that his apostles beheld him so risen; and that finally he disappeared behind a cloud up into the heavens. [explains and excuses the extreme negative school] It is natural, therefore--and there is much excuse for him--that an uneducated man or a child, bidden unceremoniously in the name of religion to accept these tales, should revolt, and hastily make up his mind that the figure of Jesus is through and through fictitious, and that he never lived at all. One thing only is certain--namely, that insofar as the orthodox blindly accept these tales--nay, maintain with St. Athanasius that the man Jesus was God incarnate, a pre-existent æon, Word of God, Creator of all things, masked in human flesh, but retaining, so far as he chose, all his exalted prerogatives and cosmic attributes in this disguise--they put themselves out of court, and deprive themselves of any faculty of reply to the extreme negative school of critics. The latter may be very absurd, and may betray an excess of credulity in the solutions they offer of the problem of Christian origins; but they can hardly go further along the path of absurdity and credulity than the adherents of the creeds. If their arguments are to be met, if any satisfactory proof is to be advanced of the historicity of Jesus, it must come, not from those who, as Mommsen remarked, "reason in chains," but from free thinkers. [Yet Jesus is better attested than most ancients] Those, however, who have much acquaintance with antiquity must perceive at the outset that, if the thesis that Jesus never existed is to be admitted, then quite a number of other celebrities, less well evidenced than he, must disappear from the page of history, and be ranged with Jesus in the realm of myth. [Age of the earliest Christian literature] Many characteristically Christian documents, such as the Epistle of Barnabas, the Shepherd of Hermas, and the Teaching of the Apostles, are admitted by Drews to have been written before A.D. 100. [1] Not only the canonical Gospels, he tells us, [2] were still current in the first half of the second century, but several never accepted by the Church--e.g., spurious gospels ascribed to Matthew, Thomas, Bartholomew, Peter, the Twelve Apostles. These have not reached us, though we have recovered a large fragment of the so-called Peter Gospel, and find that it at least pre-supposes canonical Mark. The phrase, "Still current in the first half of the second century," indicates that, in Dr. Drews's opinion, these derivative gospels were at least as old as year 100; in that case our canonical Gospels would fall well within the first. I will not press this point; but, anyhow, we note the admission that within about seventy years of the supposed date of Jesus's death Christians were reading that mass of written tradition about him which we call the Gospels of Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John. They were also reading a mass of less accredited biographies--less trustworthy, no doubt, but, nevertheless, the work of authors who entertained no doubt that Jesus had really lived, and who wished to embellish his story. [If Jesus never lived, neither did Solon,] If, then, armed with such early records, we are yet so exacting of evidence as to deny that Jesus, their central figure, ever lived, what shall we say of other ancient worthies--of Solon, for example, the ancient Athenian legislator? For his life our chief sources, as Grote remarks (History of Greece, Pt. II, ch. 11), are Plutarch and Diogenes, writers who lived seven and eight hundred years after him. Moreover, the stories of Plutarch about him are, as Grote says, "contradictory as well as apocryphal." It is true that Herodotus repeats to us the story of Solon's travels, and of the conversations he held with Croesus, King of Lydia; but these conversations are obviously mere romance. Herodotus, too, lived not seventy, but nearly one hundred and fifty years later than Solon, so that contemporary evidence of him we have none. Plutarch preserves, no doubt, various laws and metrical aphorisms which were in his day attributed to Solon, just as the Christians attributed an extensive body of teaching to Jesus. If we deny all authenticity to Jesus's teaching, what of Solon's traditional lore? Obviously Jesus has a far larger chance to have really existed than Solon. [or Epimenides,] And the same is true of Epimenides of Crete, who was said to be the son of the nymph Balte; to have been mysteriously fed by the nymphs, since he was never seen to eat, and so forth. He was known as the Purifier, and in that rôle healed the Athenians of plagues physical and spiritual. A poet and prophet he lived, according to some, for one hundred and fifty-four years; according to his own countrymen, for three hundred. If he lived to the latter age, then Plato, who is the first to mention him in his Laws, was his contemporary, not otherwise. [or Pythagoras,] Pythagoras, again, can obviously never have lived at all, if we adopt the purist canons of Drews. For he was reputed, as Grote (Pt. II, ch. 37) reminds us, to have been inspired by the gods to reveal to men a new way of life, and found an order or brotherhood. He is barely mentioned by any writer before Plato, who flourished one hundred and fifty years later than he. In the matter of miracles, prophecy, pre-existence, mystic observances, and asceticism, Pythagoras equalled, if he did not excel, Jesus. [or Apollonius of Tyana] Apollonius of Tyana is another example. We have practically no record of him till one hundred and twenty years after his death, when the Sophist Philostratus took in hand to write his life, by his own account, with the aid of memorials left by Damis, a disciple of the sage. Apollonius, like Jesus and Pythagoras, was an incarnation of an earlier being; he, too, worked miracles, and appeared after death to an incredulous follower, and ascended into heaven bodily. The stories of his miracles of healing, of his expulsions of demons, and raising of the dead, read exactly like chapters out of the Gospels. He, like Jesus and Pythagoras, had a god Proteus for his father, and was born of a virgin. His birth was marked in the heavens by meteoric portents. His history bristles with tales closely akin to those which were soon told of Jesus; yet all sound scholars are agreed that his biographer did not imitate the Gospels, but wrote independently of them. If, then, Jesus never lived, much less can Apollonius have done so. Except for a passing reference in Lucian, Philostratus is our earliest authority for his reality; the life written of him by Moeragenes is lost, and we do not know when it was written. On the whole, the historicity of Jesus is much better attested and documented than that of Apollonius, whose story is equally full of miracles with Christ's. [Miracles do not wholly invalidate a document] The above examples suffice. But, with the aid of a good dictionary of antiquity, hundreds of others could be adduced of individuals for whose reality we have not a tithe of the evidence which we have for that of Jesus; yet no one in his senses disputes their ever having lived. We take it for certain that hundreds--nay, thousands--of people who figure on the pages of ancient and medieval history were real, and that, roughly speaking, they performed the actions attributed to them--this although the earliest notices of them are only met with in Plutarch, or Suidas, or William of Tyre, or other writers who wrote one hundred, two hundred, perhaps six hundred years after them. Nor are we deterred from believing that they really existed by the fact that, along with some things credible, other things wholly incredible are related of them. Throughout ancient history we must learn to pick and choose. The thesis, therefore, that Jesus never lived, but was from first to last a myth, presents itself at the outset as a paradox. Still, as it is seriously advanced, it must be seriously considered and that I now proceed to do. [Proof of the unhistoricity of Jesus, how attainable] It can obviously not pass muster, unless its authors furnish us with a satisfactory explanation of every single notice, direct or indirect, simple or constructive, which ancient writers have transmitted to us. Each notice must be separately examined, and if an evidential document be composite, every part of it. Each statement in its primâ facie sense must be shown to be irreconcilable with what we know of the age and circumstances to which it pretends to relate. And in every case the new interpretation must be more cogent and more probable than the old one. Jesus, the real man, must be driven line by line, verse by verse, out of the whole of the New Testament, and after that out of other early sources which directly or by implication attest his historicity. There is no other way of proving so sweeping a negative as that of the three authors I have named. [How to approach ancient documents] For every statement of fact in an ancient author is a problem, and has to be accounted for. If it accords with the context, and the entire body of statement agrees with the best scheme we can form in our mind's eye of the epoch, we accept it, just as we would the statement of a witness standing before us in a law court. If, on the other hand, the statement does not agree with our scheme, we ask why the author made it. If he obviously believed it, then how did his error arise? If he should seem to have made it without himself believing it, then we ask, Why did he wish to deceive his reader? Sometimes the only solution we can give of the matter is, that our author himself never penned the statement, but that someone covertly inserted it in his text, so that it might appear to have contained it. In such cases we must explain why and in whose interest the text was interpolated. In all history, of course, we never get a direct observation, or intuition, or hearing of what took place, for the photographic camera and phonograph did not exist in antiquity. We must rest content with the convictions and feelings of authors, as they put them down in books. To one circumstance, however, amid so much dubiety, we shall attach supreme importance; and that is to an affirmation of the same fact by two or more independent witnesses. One man may well be in error, and report to us what never occurred; but it is in the last degree improbable that two or more [Value of several independent witnesses in case of Jesus] independent witnesses will join forces in testifying to what never was. Let us, then, apply this principle to the problem before us. Jesus, our authors affirm, was not a real man, but an astral myth. Now we can conceive of one ancient writer mistaking such a myth for a real man; but what if another and another witness, what if half a dozen or more come along, and, meeting us quite apart from one another and by different routes, often by pure accident, conspire in error. If we found ourselves in such case, would we not think we were bewitched, and take to our heels? [The oldest sources about Jesus] Well, I do not intend to take to my heels. I mean to stand up to the chimeras of Messrs. Drews, Robertson, and Benjamin Smith. And the best courage is to take one by one the ancient sources which bear witness to the man Jesus, examine and compare them, and weigh their evidence. If they are independent, if they agree, not too much--that would excite a legitimate suspicion--but only more or less and in a general way, then, I believe, any rational inquirer would allow them weight, even if none were strictly contemporaries of his and eye-witnesses of his life. In the Gospel of Mark we have the earliest narrative document of the New Testament. This is evident from the circumstance that the three other evangelists used it in the composition of their Gospels. Drews, indeed, admits it to be one of the "safest" results of modern discussion of the life of Jesus that this Gospel is the oldest of the surviving four. He is aware, of course, that this conclusion has been questioned; but no one will doubt it who has confronted [The Gospel of Mark used in Matthew and Luke] Mark in parallel columns with Luke and Matthew, and noted how these other evangelists not only derive from it the order of the events of the life of Jesus, but copy it out verse after verse, each with occasional modifications of his own. Drews, however, while aware of this phenomenon, has yet not grasped the fact that it and nothing else has moved scholars to regard Mark as the most ancient of the three Synoptics; quite erroneously, as if he had never read any work of modern textual criticism, he imagines that they are led to their conclusion, firstly by the superior freshness and vividness of Mark, by a picturesqueness which argues him to have been an eye-witness; and, secondly, by the evidence of Papias, who, it is said, declared Mark to have been the interpreter of the Apostle Peter. In point of fact, the modern critical theologians, for whom Drews has so much contempt, attach no decisive weight in this connection either to the tradition preserved by Papias or to the graphic qualities of Mark's narratives. They rest their case mainly on the internal evidence of the texts before them. [Contents of Mark] What, then, do we find in Mark's narrative? Inasmuch as my readers can buy the book for a penny and study it for themselves, I may content myself with a very brief résumé of its contents. It begins with an account of one John who preached round about Judæa, but especially on the Jordan, that the Jews must repent of their sins in order to their remission; in token whereof he directed them to take a ritual bath in the sacred waters of the Jordan, just as a modern Hindoo washes away his sins by means of a ritual bath in the River Jumna. An old document generally called Q. (Quelle), because Luke and Matthew used it in common to supplement Mark's rather meagre story, adds the reason why the Jews were to repent; and it was this, that the Kingdom of Heaven was at hand. [Drews's account of Messianism] Drews, in his first chapter of The Christ Myth, traces out the idea of this Kingdom of God, which he finds so prominent in the Jewish Apocalyptics of the last century before and the first century after Christ, and attributes it to Persian and Mithraic influence. Mithras, he says, was to descend upon the earth, and in a last fierce struggle overwhelm Angromainyu or Ahriman and his hosts, and cast them down into the nether world. He would then raise the dead in bodily shape, and after a general judgment of the whole world, in which the wicked should be condemned to the punishments of hell and the good raised to heavenly glory, establish the "millennial kingdom." These ideas, he continues, penetrated Jewish thought, and brought about a complete transformation of the former belief in a messiah, a Hebrew term meaning the anointed--in Greek Christos. For, to begin with, the Christ was merely the Jewish king who represented Jahwe before the people, and the people before Jahwe. He was "Son of Jahwe," or "Son of God" par excellence; later on the name came to symbolize the ideal king to come--this when the Israelites lost their independence, and were humiliated by falling under a foreign yoke. This ideal longed-for king was to win Jahwe's favour; and by his heroic deeds, transcending those of Moses and Joshua of old, to re-establish the glory of Israel, renovate the face of the earth, and even make Israel Lord over all nations. But so far the Messiah was only a human being, a new David or descendant of David, a theocratic king, a divinely favoured prince of peace, a just ruler over the people he liberated; and in this sense Cyrus, who delivered the Jews from the Babylonian captivity, the rescuer and overlord of Israel, had been acclaimed Messiah. At last and gradually--still under Persian influence, according to Drews--this figure assumed divine attributes, yet without forfeiting human ones. Secret and supernatural as was his nature, so should the birth of the Messiah be; though a divine child, he was to be born in lowly state. Nay, the personality of the Messiah eventually mingled with that of Jahwe himself, whose son he was. Such, according to Drews, were the alternations of the Messiah between a human and a divine nature in Jewish apocalypses of the period B.C. 100 to A.D. 100. They obviously do not preclude the possibility of the Jews in that epoch acclaiming a man as their Messiah--indeed, there is no reason why they should not have attached the dignity to several; and from sources which Drews does not dispute we learn that they actually did so. [John and Jesus began as messengers of the divine kingdom on earth] Let us return to Mark's narrative. Among the Jews who came to John to confess and repent of their sins, and wash them away in the Jordan, was one named Jesus, from Nazareth of Galilee; and he, as soon as John was imprisoned and murdered by Herod, caught up the lamp, if I may use a metaphor, which had fallen from the hands of the stricken saint, and hurried on with it to the same goal. We read that he went to Galilee, preaching the gospel of God, and saying: "The time is fulfilled, and the Kingdom of God is at hand; repent ye, and believe in the gospel or good tidings." The rest of Mark is a narrative of what happened to Jesus on this self-appointed errand. We learn that he soon made many recruits, from among whom he chose a dozen as his particular missionaries or apostles. These, after no long time, he despatched on peculiar beats of their own. [Jesus's anticipations of its speedy advent] He was certain that the kingdom was not to be long delayed, and on occasions assured his audience that it would come in their time. When he was sending out his missionary disciples, he even expressed to them his doubts as to whether it would not come even before they had had time to go round the cities of Israel. [He confined the promises to Jews] It was not, however, this consideration, but the instinct of exclusiveness, which he shared with most of his race, that led him to warn them against carrying the good tidings of the impending salvation of Israel to Samaritans or Gentiles; the promises were not for schismatics and heathens, but only for the lost sheep of the house of Israel. Some of these details are derived not from Mark, but from the document out of which, as I remarked above, the first and second evangelists supplemented Mark. [Was rejected by his own kindred] Like Luther, Loyola, Dunstan, St. Anthony, and many other famous saints and sinners, Jesus, on the threshold of his career, encountered Satan, and overthrew him. A characteristically oriental fast of forty days in the wilderness equipped him for this feat. Thenceforth he displayed, like Apollonius of Tyana and not a few contemporary rabbis, considerable familiarity with the demons of disease and madness. The sick flocked to him to be healed, and it was only in districts where people disbelieved in him and his message that his therapeutic energy met with a check. Among those who particularly flouted his pretensions were his mother and brethren, who on one occasion at least followed him in order to arrest him and put him under restraint as being beside himself or exalté. [His Parables all turn on the coming Kingdom] A good many parables are attributed to him in this Gospel, and yet more in Matthew and Luke, of which the burden usually is the near approach of the dissolution of this world and of the last Judgment, which are to usher in the Kingdom of God on earth. We learn that the parable was his favourite mode of instruction, as it always has been and still is the chosen vehicle of Semitic moral teaching. [No hint in the earliest sources of the miraculous birth of Jesus] Of the later legend of his supernatural birth, and of the visits before his birth of angels to Mary, his mother, and to Joseph, his putative father, of the portents subsequently related in connection with his birth at Bethlehem, there is not a word either in Mark or in the other early document out of which Matthew and Luke supplemented Mark. In these earliest documents Jesus is presented quite naturally as the son of Joseph and his wife Mary, and we learn quite incidentally the names of his brothers and sisters. [Late recognition of Jesus as himself the Messiah] Towards the middle of his career Jesus seems to have been recognized by Peter as the Son of God or Messiah. Whether he put himself forward for that rôle we cannot be sure; but so certain were his Apostles of the matter that two of them are represented as having asked him in the naivest way to grant them seats of honour on his left and right hand, when he should come in glory to judge the world. The Twelve expected to sit on thrones and judge the twelve tribes of Israel, and this idea meets us afresh in the Apocalypse, a document which in the form we have it belongs to the years 92-93. [His hopes shattered at approach of death] But the simple faith of the Apostles in their teacher and leader was to receive a rude shock. They accompany him for the Passover to Jerusalem. An insignificant triumphal demonstration is organized for him as he enters the sacred city on an ass; he beards the priests in the temple, and scatters the money-changers who sat there to change strange coins for pilgrims. The priests, who, like many others of their kind, were much too comfortable to sigh for the end of the world, and regarded enthusiasts as nuisances, took offence, denounced him to Pilate as a rebel and a danger to the Roman government of Judæa. He is arrested, condemned to be crucified, and as he hangs on the cross in a last moment of disillusionment utters that most pathetic of cries: "My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?" He had expected to witness the descent of the kingdom on earth, but instead thereof he is himself handed over helpless into the hands of the Gentiles. Such in outline is the story Mark has to tell. The rival and supplementary document of which I have spoken, and which admits of some reconstruction from the text of Matthew and Luke, consisted mainly of parables and precepts which Jesus was supposed to have delivered. It need not engage our attention here. [The mythical theory of Jesus] Now the three writers I have named--Messrs. Drews, Robertson, and W. B. Smith--enjoy the singular good fortune to be the first to have discovered what the above narratives really mean, and of how they originated; and they are urgent that we should sell all we have, and purchase their pearl of wisdom. They assure us that in the Gospels we have not got any "tradition of a personality." Jesus, the central figure, never existed at all, but was a purely mythical personage. The mythical character of the Gospels, so Drews assures us, has, in the hands of Mr. J. M. Robertson, led the way, and made a considerable advance in England; he regrets that so far official learning in Germany has not taken up a serious position regarding the mythic symbolical interpretation of the latter. [3] Let us then ask, What is the gist of the new system of interpretation. It is as follows:-- [Jesus = Joshua, a Sun-god, object of a secret cult] Jesus, or Joshua, was the name under which the expected Messiah was honoured in a certain Jewish secret society which had its headquarters in Jerusalem about the beginning of our era. In view of its secret character Drews warns us not to be too curious, nor to question either his information or that of Messrs. Smith and Robertson. This recalls to me an incident in my own experience. I was once, together with a little girl, being taken for a sail by an old sailor who had many yarns. One of the most circumstantial of them was about a ship which went down in mid ocean with all hands aboard; and it wound up with the remark: "And nobody never knew nothing about it." Little girl: "Then how did you come to hear all about it?" Like our brave old sailor, Dr. Drews warns us (p. 22) not to be too inquisitive. We must not "forget that we are dealing with a secret cult, the existence of which we can decide upon only by indirect means." His hypothesis, he tells us, "can only be rejected without more ado by such as seek the traces of the pre-Christian cult of Jesus in well-worn places, and will only allow that to be 'proved' which they have established by direct original documentary evidence before their eyes." In other words, we are to set aside our copious and almost (in Paul's case) contemporary evidence that Jesus was a real person in favour of a hypothesis which from the first and as such lacks all direct and documentary evidence, and is not amenable to any of the methods of proof recognized by sober historians. We must take Dr. Drews's word for it, and forego all evidence. But let our authors continue with their new revelation. By Joshua, or Jesus, we are not to understand the personage concerning whose exploits the Book of Joshua was composed, but a Sun-god. The Gospels are a veiled account of the sufferings and exploits of this Sun-god. "Joshua is apparently [why this qualification?] an ancient Ephraimitic god of the Sun and Fruitfulness, who stood in close relation to the Feast of the Pasch and to the custom of circumcision." [4] [Emptiness of the Sun-god Joshua hypothesis] Now no one nowadays accepts the Book of Joshua offhand as sound history. It is a compilation of older sources, which have already been sifted a good deal, and will undergo yet more sifting in the future. The question before us does not concern its historicity, but is this: Does the Book of Joshua, whether history or not, support the hypothesis that Joshua was ever regarded as God of the Sun and of Fruitfulness? Was ever such a god known of or worshipped in the tribe of Ephraim or in Israel at large? In this old Hebrew epic or saga Joshua is a man of flesh and blood. How did these gentlemen get it into their heads that he was a Sun-god? For this statement there is not a shadow of evidence. They have invented it. As he took the Israelites dryshod over the Jordan, why have they not made a River-god of him? And as, according to Drews, he was so interested in fruitfulness and foreskins, why not suppose he was a Priapic god? They are much too modest. We should at least expect "the composite myth" to include this element, inasmuch as his mystic votaries at Jerusalem were far from seeing eye to eye with Paul in the matter of circumcision. [The Sun-myth stage of comparative mythology] There was years ago a stage in the Comparative History of Religions when the Sun-myth hypothesis was invoked to explain almost everything. The shirt of Nessus, for example, in which Heracles perished, was a parable of the sun setting amidst a wrack of scattered clouds. The Sun-myth was the key which fitted every lock, and was employed unsparingly by pioneers of comparative mythology like F. Max Müller and Sir George Cox. It was taken for granted that early man must have begun by deifying the great cosmic powers, by venerating Sun and Moon, the Heavens, the Mountains, the Sea, as holy and divine beings, because they, rather than humble and homelier objects, impress us moderns by their sublimity and overwhelming force. Man was supposed from the first to have felt his transitoriness, his frailty and weakness, and to have contrasted therewith the infinities of space and time, the majesty of the starry hosts of heaven, the majestic and uniform march of sun and moon, the mighty rumble of the thunder. Max Müller thought that religion began when the cowering savage was crushed by awe of nature and of her stupendous forces, by the infinite lapses of time, by the yawning abysses of space. As a matter of fact, savages do not entertain these sentiments of the dignity and majesty of nature. On the contrary, a primitive man thinks that he can impose his paltry will on the elements; that he knows how to unchain the wind, to oblige the rain to fall; that he can, like the ancient witches of Thessaly, control sun and moon and stars by all sorts of petty magical rites, incantations, and gestures, as Joshua made the sun stand still till his band of brigands had won the battle. It is to the imagination of us moderns alone that the grandeur of the universe appeals, and it was relatively late in the history of religion--so far as it can be reconstructed from the scanty data in our possession--that the higher nature cults were developed. The gods and sacred beings of an Australian or North American native are the humble vegetables and animals which surround him, objects with which he is on a footing of equality. His totems are a duck, a hare, a kangaroo, an emu, a lizard, a grub, or a frog. In the same way, the sacred being of an early Semite's devotion was just as likely to be a pig or a hare as the sun in heaven; the cult of an early Egyptian was centred upon a crocodile, or a cat, or a dog. [5] In view of these considerations, our suspicion is aroused at the outset by finding Messrs. Drews and Robertson to be in this discarded and obsolete Sun-myth stage of speculation. They are a back number. Let us, however, examine their mythic symbolic theory a little further, and see what sort of arguments they invoke in favour of it, and what their "indirect" proofs amount to. [Examples of the Sun-god theory of Jesus. The Rock-Tomb] Why was Jesus buried in a rock-tomb? asks Mr. Robertson. Answer: Because he was Mithras, the rock-born Sun-god. We would like to know what other sort of burial was possible round Jerusalem, where soil was so scarce that everyone was buried in a rock-tomb. Scores of such tombs remain. Are they all Mithraic? Surely a score of other considerations would equally well explain the choice of a rock-tomb for him in Christian tradition. [The date of birthday] Why was Jesus born at the winter-solstice? Answer: Because he was a Sun-god. Our author forgets that the choice of December 25 for the feast of the physical birth of Jesus was made by the Church as late as 354 A.D. What could the cryptic Messianists of the first half of the first century know about a festival which was never heard of in Rome until the year 354, nor accepted in Jerusalem before the year 440? Time is evidently no element in the calculations of these authors; and they commit themselves to the most amazing anachronisms with the utmost insouciance, or, shall we not rather say, ignorance; unless, indeed, they imagine that the mystic worshippers of the God Joshua knew all about the date, but kept it dark in order to mystify all succeeding generations. [The twelve disciples] Why did Jesus surround himself with twelve disciples? Answer: Because they were the twelve signs of the Zodiac and he a Sun-god. We naturally ask, Were the twelve tribes of Israel equally representative of the Zodiac? In any case, may not Christian story have fixed the number of Apostles at twelve in view of the tribes being twelve? It is superfluous to go as far as the Zodiac for an explanation. [The Sermon on the Mount] Why did Jesus preach his sermon on the Mount? Answer: Because as Sun-god he had to take his stand on the "pillar of the world." In the same way, Moses, another Sun-god, gave his law from the Mount. I always have heard that Moses got his tables of the law up top of a mountain, and brought them down to a people that were forbidden to approach it. He did not stand up top, and shout out his laws to them, as Mr. Robertson suggests. In any case, we merely read in Matthew v that Jesus went up into a mountain or upland region, and when he had sat down his disciples came to him, and he then opened his mouth and taught them. In a country like Galilee, where you can barely walk a mile in any direction without climbing a hill, what could be more natural than for a narrator to frame such a setting for the teacher's discourse? It is the first rule of criticism to practise some economy of hypothesis, and not go roaming after fanciful and extravagant interpretations of quite commonplace and every-day occurrences. [The last Judgment] Why was it believed that Jesus was to judge men after death? Answer: Because he was a Sun-god, and pro tanto identical with Osiris. Surely the more natural interpretation is that, so soon as Jesus was identified in the minds of his followers with the Messiah or Christ, the task of judging Israel was passed on to him as part of the rôle. Thus in the Psalms of Solomon, a Jewish apocryph of about B.C. 50, we read that the Messiah will "in the assemblies judge the peoples, the tribes of the sanctified" (xvii, 48). Such references could be multiplied; are they all Osirian? If Mr. Robertson had paid a little more attention to the later apocrypha of Judaism, and made himself a little better acquainted with the social and religious medium which gave birth to Christianity, he would have realized how unnecessary are these Sun-mythic hypotheses, and we should have been spared his books. [The Lamb and Fish symbolism] Why is Jesus represented in art and lore by the Lamb and the Fishes? Answer: As a Sun-god passing through the Zodiac. This is amazing. We know the reason why Jesus was figured as a Lamb by the early Christians. It was because they regarded the paschal lamb as a type of him. Does Mr. Robertson claim to know the reasons of their symbolism better than they did themselves? And where did he discover that Jesus was represented as Fishes in Art and Lore? He was symbolized as one fish, not as several; and Tertullian has told us why. It was because, according to the popular zoology of the day, fishes were supposed to be born and to originate in the water, without carnal connection between their parents. For this reason the fish was taken as a symbol of Jesus, who was born again in the waters of the Jordan. A later generation explained the appellation of ichthys (ichthus), or Fish, as an acrostic. The letters of the Greek word are the initials of the words: Iesous Christos Theou uios soter--i.e., Jesus Christ of God Son, Saviour; but this later explanation came into vogue in an age when it was already heretical to say that Jesus was reborn in baptism; nor does it explain why the multitude of the baptized were symbolized as little fishes in contrast with the Big Fish, Christ. [The two asses] Why did Jesus ride into Jerusalem before his death on two asses? Answer: Because Dionysus also rides on an ass and a foal in one of the Greek signs of Cancer (the turning point in the sun's course). "Bacchus (p. 287) crossed a marsh on two asses." Mr. Robertson does not attempt to prove that the earliest Christians, who were Jews, must have been familiar with the rare legend of Bacchus crossing a marsh on two asses; still less with the rare representation of the zodiacal sign Cancer as an ass and its foal. It is next to impossible; and, even if they were, what induced them to transform the myth into the legend of Jesus riding into Jerusalem on two donkeys at once? If they had so excellent a legend of Bacchus on his asses crossing a marsh, why not be content with it? And the same question may be asked in regard to all the other transformations by which these "mystic sectaries," who formed the early Church, changed myths culled from all times and all religions and races into a connected story of Jesus, as it lies before us in the Synoptic Gospels. Mr. Robertson disdains any critical and comparative study of the Gospels, and insists on regarding them as coeval and independent documents. Everything inside the covers of the New Testament is for him, as for the Sunday-school teacher, on one dead level of importance. All textual criticism has passed over his head. He has never learned to look in Mark for the original form of a statement which Luke or Matthew copied out, and in transferring them to their Gospels scrupled not to alter or modify. Accordingly, to suit the exigencies of his theory that the Gospels are an allegory of a Sun-god's exploits, he here claims to find the original text not in Mark, but in Matthew; as if a transcript and paraphrase could possibly be prior to, and more authoritative than, the text transcribed and brodé. Accordingly, he writes (p. 339) as follows: "In Mark xi and Luke xix, 30, the two asses become one.... In the Fourth Gospel, again, we have simply the colt." And yet by all rules of textual criticism and of common sense the underlying and original text is Mark xi, 1-7. In it the disciples merely bring a colt which they had found tied at a door. The author of the Gospel called of Matthew, eager to discern in every incident, no matter how commonplace, which he found in Mark, a fulfilment of some prophecy, or another, drags in a tag of Zechariah: "Behold, the King cometh to thee, meek, and riding on an ass and upon a colt, the foal of an ass." Then, to make the story told of Jesus run on all fours with the prophecy, he writes that the disciples "brought the ass and the colt, and put on them their garments, and he (Jesus) sat on them." He was unacquainted with Hebrew idiom, and so not aware that the words, "a colt the foal of an ass," are no more than a rhetorical reduplication [6] of an ass. There was, then, but one animal in the original form of the story, and, as the French say, it saute aux yeux that the importation of two is due to the influence of the prophecy on the mind of the transcriber. Why, therefore, go out of the way to attribute the tale to the influence of a legend of Bacchus, so multiplying empty hypotheses? Mr. Robertson, with hopeless perversity, takes Dr. Percy Gardner to task for repeating what he calls "the fallacious explanation, that 'an ass and the foal of an ass' represents a Greek misconception of the Hebrew way of saying 'an ass,' as if Hebrews in every-day life lay under a special spell of verbal absurdity." [7] [Jewish abhorrence of Pagan myths] But did Hebrews in every-day life mould their ideas of the promised Messiah on out-of-the-way legends of Bacchus? Were they likely to fashion a tale of a Messianic triumph out of Gentile myths? Do we not know from a hundred sources that the Jews of that age, and the Christians who were in this matter their pupils, abhorred everything that savoured of Paganism. They were the last people in the world to construct a life of the Messiah out of the myths of Bacchus, and Hermes, and Osiris, and Heracles, and the fifty other heathen gods and heroes whom Mr. Robertson rolls up into what he calls the "composite myth" of the Gospels. But let us return to his criticism of Dr. Gardner. Why, it may be asked, was it à priori more absurd of Matthew to turn one ass into two in deference to Hebrew prophecy, than for Hebrews to set their Messiah riding into the holy city on two asses in deference to a myth of Bacchus crossing a marsh on two of them? Is it not Mr. Robertson, rather than [Robertson on Drs. Gardner and Carpenter] Dr. Gardner, who here lies under a special spell of absurdity? "A glance at the story of Bacchus," writes Mr. Robertson, "crossing a marsh on two asses ... would have shown him that he was dealing with a zodiacal myth." The boot is on the other foot. Had Mr. Robertson chosen to glance at the Poeticon Astronomicon of Hyginus, a late and somewhat worthless Latin author, who is the authority for this particular tale of Bacchus, he would have read (ii, 23) how Liber (i.e., Dionysus) was on his way to get an oracle at Dodona which might restore his lost sanity: Sed cum venisset ad quandam paludem magnam, quam transire non posset, de quibusdam duobus asellis obviis factis dicitur unum deprehendisse eorum, et ita esse transvectus, ut omnino aquam non tetigerit. In English: "But when he came to a certain spacious marsh, which he thought he could not get across, he is said to have met on the way two young asses, of which he caught one, and he was carried across on it so nicely that he never touched the water at all." Here there is no hint of Bacchus riding on two asses, and Mr. Robertson's entire hypothesis falls to the ground like a house of cards. The astounding thing is that, although he insists on pages 287 and 453 [8] that Bacchus rode on two asses, and that here is the true Babylonian explanation of Jesus also riding on two, he gets the Greek, or rather Latin, myth right on p. 339, and recognizes that Dionysus was only mounted on one of the asses when he passed the morass or river on his way to Dodona. Thus, by Mr. Robertson's own admission, Bacchus never rode on two asses at all. [The Pilate myth] Why was Jesus crucified by Pilate? For an answer to this let us for a little quit "the very stimulating and informing works," as Dr. Drews calls them, of Mr. Robertson, and turn to Dr. Drews's own work on The Witnesses to the Historicity of Jesus. [9] For there we find the true "astral myth interpretation" in all its glory. The Pilate of Christian legend was, so we learn, not originally an historical person at all; the whole story of Christ is to be taken in an astral sense; and Pilate in particular represents the story of Orion, the javelin-man (Pilatus), with the Arrow or Lance constellation (Sagitta), which is supposed to be very long in the Greek myth, and reappears in the Christian legend under the name of Longinus.... In the astral myth the Christ hanging on the cross or world-tree (i.e., the Milky Way) is killed by the lance of Pilatus.... The Christian population of Rome told the legend of a javelin-man, a Pilatus, who was supposed to have been responsible for the death of the Saviour. Tacitus heard the myth repeated, and, like the fool he was, took it that Pilate the javelin-man was no other than Pilate the Roman procurator of Judæa under Tiberius, who must have been known to him from the books of Josephus. [10] Accordingly, Tacitus sat down and penned his account of the wholesale massacre and burning of Christians by Nero in the fifteenth book of his Annals. We shall turn to the evidence of Tacitus later on. Meanwhile it is pertinent to ask where the myth of Pilatus, of which Drews here makes use, came from. The English text of Drews is somewhat confused; but presumedly Orion, with his girdle sword and lion's skin, is no other than Pilatus; and his long lance, with which he kills Christ, further entitles him to the name of Longinus. Or is it Pilatus who stabs Orion? It does not matter. Let us test this hypothesis in its essential parts. [The Longinus myth] Firstly, then, Longinus was the name coined by Christian legend-mongers of the third or fourth century for the centurion who stabbed Jesus with a lance as he hung on the cross. How could so late a myth influence or form part of a tradition three centuries older than itself? The incident of the lance being plunged into the side of Jesus is related only in the Fourth Gospel, and is not found in the earlier ones. The author of that Gospel invented it in order to prove to his generation that Jesus had real blood in his body, and was not, as the Docetes maintained, a phantasm mimicking reality to the ears and eyes alone of those who saw and conversed with him. This Gospel, even according to the Christian tradition of its date, is barely earlier than A.D. 100, and the name Longinus was not heard of before A.D. 250 at the earliest. Yet Drews is ready to believe that it was on the lips of Christians in the reign of Nero, say in A.D. 64. Secondly, what evidence is there that Pilatus could mean the "javelin-man" for the earliest generations of Roman Christians? The language current among them was Greek, not Latin, as the earliest Christian inscriptions in the catacombs of Rome testify. The language of Roman rites and popes remained Greek for three centuries. Why, then, should they have had their central myth of the crucifixion in a Latin form? Thirdly, what evidence is there that Pilatus could mean a javelin-man even to a Latin? Many lexicographers interpret it in Virgil in the sense of packed together or dense, and in most authors it bears the sense of bald or despoiled. [Inadequacy of the mythic theory] But, letting that pass, we ask what evidence is there that Orion ever had the epithet Pilatus in this sense? What evidence that such a myth ever existed at all? There is none, absolutely none. It is not enough for these authors to ransack Lemprière and other dictionaries of mythology in behalf of their paradoxes; but when these collections fail them, they proceed to coin myths of their own, and pretend that they are ancient, that the early Christians believed in them, and that Tacitus fell into the trap; as if these Christians, whom they acknowledge to have been either Jews or the converts of Jews, had not been constitutionally opposed to all pagan myths and cults alike; as if a good half of the earliest Christian literature did not consist of polemics against the pagan myths, which were regarded with the bitterest scorn and abhorrence; as if it were not notorious that it was their repugnance to and ridicule of pagan gods and heroes and religious myths that earned for the Christians, as for the Jews, their teachers, the hatred and loathing of the pagan populations in whose midst they lived. And yet we are asked to believe that the Christian Church, almost before it was separated from the Jewish matrix, fashioned for itself in the form of the Gospels an allegory of a Sun-god Joshua, who, though unknown to serious Semitic scholars, is yet so well known to Mr. Robertson and his friends that he identifies him with Adonis, and Osiris, and Dionysus, and Mithras, and Krishna, and Asclepius, and with any other god or demi-god that comes to hand in Lemprière's dictionary. After hundreds of pages of such fanciful writing, Drews warns us in solemn language against the attempts "of historical theologians to reach the nucleus of the Gospels by purely philological means." The attempt, he declares, is "hopeless, and must remain hopeless, because the Gospel tradition floats in the air." One would like to know in what medium his own hypotheses float. [Joshua the Sun-god a pure invention of the mythic school] Like Dr. Drews, Mr. Robertson adopts the Joshua myth as if it were beyond question. His faith in "the ancient Palestinian Saviour-Sun-God" is absolute. This otherwise unknown deity was the core of what is gracefully styled "the Jesuist myth." On examination, however, the Joshua Sun-god turns out to be the most rickety of hypotheses. Because the chieftain who, in old tradition, led the Jews across the Jordan into the land of promise was named Joshua, certain critics, who are still in the sun-myth phase of comparative mythology--in particular, Stade and Winckler--have conjectured that the name Joshua conceals a solar hero worshipped locally by the tribe of Ephraim. Even if there ever existed such a cult, it had long vanished when the book of Joshua was compiled; for in this he is no longer represented as a solar hero, but has become in the popular tradition a human figure, a hero judge, and leader of the armies of Israel. Of a Joshua cult the book does not preserve any trace or memory; that it ever existed is an improbable and unverifiable hypothesis. We might just as well conjecture that Romulus, and Remus, and other half or wholly legendary figures of ancient history, were sun-gods and divine saviours. But it is particularly in Jewish history that this school is apt to revel. Moses, and Joseph, and David were all mythical beings brought down to earth; and the god David and the god Joshua, the god Moses, the god Joseph, form in the imagination of these gentlemen a regular Hebrew prehistoric Pantheon. I say in their imagination, for it is certain that when the Pentateuch was compiled--at the latest in the fifth century B.C.--the Jews no longer revered David, and Joshua, and Joseph as sun-gods; while of what they worshipped even locally before that date we have little knowledge, and can form only conjectures. In any case, that they continued to worship a sun-god under the name of Joshua as late as the first century of our era must strike anyone who has the least knowledge of Hebrew religious development, who has ever read Philo or Josephus, or studied Jewish sapiential and apocalyptic literature of the period B.C. 200-A.D. 100, as a wildly improbable supposition. [Supposed secrecy of early Christian cult a literary trick] Sensible that their hypothesis conflicts with all we know about the Jews of these three centuries, these three authors--Messrs. Drews, Robertson, and W. B. Smith--insist on the esoterism and secrecy of the cryptic society which in Jerusalem harboured the cult. This commonest of literary tricks enables them to evade any awkward questions, and whenever they are challenged to produce some evidence of the existence of such a cult they can answer that, being secret and esoteric, it could leave little or no evidence of itself, and that we must take their ipse dixit and renounce all hope of direct and documentary evidence. They ask of us a greater credulity than any Pope of Rome ever demanded. [Joshua ben Jehozadak also a Sun-god] The divine stage of Joshua, then, if it ever existed, was past and forgotten as early as 500 B.C. It has left no traces. Of the other Joshuas, who meet us in the pages of the Jewish scriptures, the most important one is Jeshua or Joshua ben Jehozadak, a high priest who, together with Zerubbabel, is often mentioned (according to the Encyclopædia Biblica) in contemporary writings. Not only, then, have we contemporary evidence of this Joshua as of a mere man and a priest, but we know from it that he stooped to such mundane occupations as the rebuilding of the Temple. He also had human descendants, who are traced in Nehemiah xii, 10 fol. down to Jaddua. Of this epoch of Jewish history, in which the Temple was being rebuilt, we have among the Jewish and Aramaic papyri lately recovered at Elephantine documents that are autographs of personages with whom this Joshua may well have been in contact. His contemporaries are mentioned and even addressed in these documents, so that he and his circle are virtually as well evidenced for us as Frederick the Great and Voltaire. Is it credible in the face of such facts that the authors we are criticizing should turn this Joshua, too, into a solar god? Yet Drews turns with zest to the notice of this Joshua, the high priest in Zechariah iii, as "one of the many signs" which attest that "Joshua or Jesus was the name under which the expected Messiah was honoured in certain Jewish sects." Unless he regards this later Joshua also as a divine figure, and no mere man of flesh and blood, why does he thus drag him into his argument? [The suspicion that the compilers of the Old Testament burked evidence favourable to the Sun-myth hypothesis] But, after all, Messrs. Drews and Robertson are uneasy about the book of Joshua, and not altogether capable of the breezy optimism of their instructor, Mr. W. B. Smith, who, in Ecce Deus (p. 74), commits himself to the naive declaration that, "even if we had no evidence whatever of a pre-Christian Jesus cult, we should be compelled to affirm its existence with undiminished decision." Accordingly, they both go out of their way to hint that the ancient Jews suppressed the facts of the Joshua or Jesus Sun-God-Saviour cult. Thus Mr. Robertson (Christianity and Mythology, p. 99, note 1), after urging us to accept a late and worthless tradition about Joshua, the Son of Nave, remarks that "the Jewish books would naturally drop the subject." How ill-natured, to be sure, of the authors of the old Hebrew scriptures to suppress evidence that would have come in so handy for Mr. Robertson's speculations. Dr. Drews takes another line, and in a note draws our attention to the fact that the Samaritans possessed an apocryphal book of the same name as the canonical book of Joshua. This book, he informs us, is based upon an old work composed in the third century B.C., containing stories which in part do not appear in our Book of Joshua. He here suggests that something was omitted in canonical Joshua by its authors which would have helped out his hypothesis of a Joshua Sun-god cult. He will not, however, find the Samaritan book encouraging, for it gives no hint of such a cult; of that anyone who does not mind being bored by a perusal of it can satisfy himself. Drews's statement that it is based on an old work composed in the third century B.C. is founded on pure ignorance, and the Encyclopædia Biblica declares it to be a medieval production of no value to anyone except the student of the Samaritan sect under Moslem rule. [The evidence of El Tabari about Joshua] Mr. Robertson thinks he has got on a better trail in the shape of a tradition as to Joshua which he is quite sure the old Jewish scripture writers suppressed. Let us examine it, for it affords a capital example of his ideas of what constitutes historical evidence. "Eastern tradition," he writes, "preserves a variety of myths that the Bible-makers for obvious reasons suppressed or transformed." In one of those traditions "Joshua is the son of the mythical Miriam; that is to say, there was probably an ancient Palestinian Saviour-Sun-God, Jesus, the son of Mary." So on p. 285 we learn that the cult of Jesus of Nazareth was "the Survival of an ancient solar or other worship of a Babe Joshua, son of Miriam." And he continually alludes to this ancient form of devotion, not as a mere hypothesis, but as a well-ascertained and demonstrable fact. [11] Let us then explore this remarkable tradition by which "we are led to surmise that the elucidation of the Christ myth is not yet complete." For such is the grandiose language in which he heralds his discovery. And what does it amount to? An Arab, El Tabari, who died in Bagdad about the year 925, compiled a Chronicle, of which some centuries later an unknown native of Persia made an abridgement in his own tongue, and inserted in it as a gloss "the remarkable Arab tradition," as it is called in the Pagan Christs (p. 157) of Mr. Robertson, albeit he acknowledges in a footnote that it is "not in the Arabic original." He asks us accordingly, on the faith of an unknown Persian glossator of the late Middle Ages, to believe that the canonical Book of Joshua originally contained this absurd tradition, and why? Because it would help out his hypothesis that Jesus was an ancient Palestinian Saviour-Sun-God, worshipped by a cryptic society of Hebrews in Jerusalem, both before and after the beginning of the Christian era; and this is the man who writes about "the psychological resistance to evidence" of learned men, and sets it down to "malice and impercipience" that anyone should challenge his conclusions. As usual, Dr. Drews, who sets Mr. Robertson on a level with the author of the Golden Bough [12] as a "leading exponent of his new mythico-symbolical method," plunges into the pit which Mr. Robertson has dug for him, and writes that, "according to an ancient Arabian tradition, the mother of Joshua was called Mirzam (Mariam, Maria, as the mother of Jesus was)." [W. B. Smith's hypothesis of a God Joshua] The source from which Messrs. Drews and Robertson have drawn this particular inspiration is Dr. W. B. Smith's work, The Pre-Christian Jesus (Der Vorchristliche Jesus). This book, we are told, "first systematically set forth the case for the thesis of its title." Let us, therefore, consider its main argument. We have the following passages in Acts xviii, 24:-- Now a certain Jew named Apollos, an Alexandrian by race, a learned man, came to Ephesus; and he was mighty in the Scriptures. This man had been instructed in the way of the Lord; and, being fervent in spirit, he spake and taught carefully the things concerning Jesus, knowing only the baptism of John: and he began to speak boldly in the synagogue. But when Priscilla and Aquila heard him, they took him unto them, and expounded unto him the way of God more carefully. And when he was minded to pass over into Achaia, the brethren encouraged him, and wrote to the disciples to receive him: and when he was come, he helped them much which had believed through grace: for he powerfully confuted the Jews, publicly, showing by the Scriptures that Jesus was the Christ. Availing ourselves of the canons of interpretation laid down by Drews and Robertson, we may paraphrase the above somewhat as follows by way of getting at its true meaning:-- "A certain sun-myth hero, as his name Apollos signifies, came to Ephesus, which, being the centre of Astarte or Aphrodite worship, was obviously the right place for such a hero to pilgrimage unto. He was mighty in the Jewish Scriptures, and had been instructed in the way of the Lord Joshua, the Sun-God-Saviour of ancient Ephraim. He spake and taught carefully the things concerning this Joshua (or Adonis, or Osiris, or Dionysus, or Vegetation-god, or Horus--for you can take your choice among these and many more). But he knew only of the prehistoric ritual of baptism of Cadmus or of Oannes-Ea, the ancient culture-god of the Babylonians, who appeared in the form of a Fish-man, teaching men by day and at night going down into the sea--in his capacity of Sun-god." This Cadmus or Oannes was worshipped at Jerusalem in the cryptic sect of the Christists or Jesuists under the name of John. His friend Apollos, the solar demi-god, began to speak boldly in the synagogue. Priscilla (presumably Cybele, mother of the gods), and Aquila, the Eagle-God, or Jupiter, heard him; she took him forthwith and expounded to him the way of Jahve, who also was identical with Joshua, the Sun-god, with Osiris, etc. [His forced and far-fetched interpretations of common phrases] Professor W. B. Smith is a little more modest and less thorough-going in his application of mythico-symbolic methods. He only asks us to believe that the trite and hackneyed phrase, "the things concerning Jesus," refers not, as the context requires, to the history and passion of Jesus of Galilee, but to the mysteries of a prehistoric Saviour-God of the same name. We advisedly say prehistoric, for he was never mentioned by anyone before Professor Smith discovered him. The name Jesus, according to him, means what the word Essene also meant, a Healer. [13] Note, in passing, that this etymology is wholly false, and rests on the authority of a writer so late, ignorant, and superstitious as Epiphanius. Now, why cannot the words, "the things about Jesus," in this context mean the tradition of the ministry of Jesus as it had shaped itself at that time, beginning with the Baptism and ending with the Ascension, as we read in Acts i, 22? [Apollos and the Baptism of John] It cannot, argues Professor Smith, because Apollos only knew the baptism of John. The reference to John's baptism may be obscure, as much in early Christianity is bound to be obscure, except to Professor Smith and his imitators. Yet this much is clear, that it here means, what it means in the sequel, the baptism of mere repentance as opposed to the baptism of the Spirit, which was by laying on of hands, and conferred the charismatic gifts of the Holy Ghost. The Marcionites, and after them the Manichean and Cathar sects, retained the latter rite, and termed it Spiritual or Pneumatic Baptism; while they dropped as superfluous the Johannine baptism with water. It would appear, then, that Apollos was perfectly acquainted with the personal history of Jesus, and understood the purport of the baptism of repentance as a sacrament preparing followers of Jesus for the kingdom of Heaven, soon to be inaugurated on earth. Perhaps we get a glimpse in this passage of an age when the mission of Jesus in his primitive rôle as herald of the Messianic kingdom and a mere continuer of John's mission was familiar to many who yet did not recognize him as the Messiah. For, after instruction by Priscilla and Aquila, Apollos set himself to confute the Jews who denied Jesus to have been Messiah, which, as a mere herald of the approaching kingdom of God, he was not. We know that Paul regarded him as having attained that dignity only through, and by, the fact of the Spirit having raised him from the dead; and did not regard him as having received it through the descent of the Spirit on him in the Jordan, as the oriental Christians presently believed. Still less did Paul know of the later teaching of the orthodox churches--viz., that the Annunciation was the critical moment in which Christ became Jesus. In any case, we must not interpret the words, "the things about Jesus," in this passage in a forced and unnatural sense wholly alien to the writer of Acts. This writer again and again recapitulates the leading facts of the life and ministry of Jesus, and the phrase, "the things concerning Jesus," cannot in any work of his bear any other sense. Moreover, the same author uses the very same phrase elsewhere (Luke xxiv, 19) in the same sense. Here Cleopas asks Jesus (whom he had failed to recognize), and says:-- Dost thou alone sojourn in Jerusalem, and not know the things which are come to pass there in these days? And he said unto him, What things? And they said unto him, the things concerning Jesus of Nazareth, which was a prophet mighty in deed and word before God and all the people: and how the chief priests and our rulers delivered him up to be condemned to death, and crucified him. Such, then, were "the things about Jesus," and to find in them, as Professor W. B. Smith does, an allusion to a pre-Christian myth of a God Joshua is to find a gigantic mare's-nest, and fly in the face of all the evidence. He verges on actual absurdity when he sees the same allusion in Mark v, 26, where a sick woman, having heard "the things concerning Jesus," went behind him, touched his garment, and was healed. Her disease was of a hysterical description, and in the annals of faith-healing such cures are common. What she had heard of was obviously not his fame as a Sun-god, but his power to heal sick persons like herself. [Magical papyrus of Wessely] Professor Smith tries to find support for his hardy conjecture in a chance phrase in a magical papyrus of Paris, No. 3,009, edited first by Wessely, and later by Dieterich in his Abraxas, p. 138. It is a form of exorcism to be inscribed on a tin plate and hung round the neck of a person possessed by a devil, or repeated over him by an exorcist. In this rigmarole the giants, of course, are dragged in, and the Tower of Babel and King Solomon; and the name of Jesus, the God of the Hebrews, is also invoked in the following terms: "I adjure thee by Jesus the God of the Hebrews, Iabaiae Abraoth aia thoth ele, elô," etc. The age of this papyrus is unknown; but Wessely puts it in the third century after Christ, while Dieterich shows that it can in no case be older than the second century B.C. It is clearly the composition of some exorcist who clung on to the skirts of late Judaism, for he is at pains to inform us in its last line that it is a Hebrew composition and preserved among pure men. In that age, as in after ones, not a few exorcists, trading on the fears and sufferings of superstitious people, affected to be pure and holy; and the mention of Jesus indicates some such charlatan, who was more or less cognisant of Christianity and of the practice of Christian exorcists. He was also aware of the Jewish antecedents of Christianity, and did not distinguish clearly between the mother religion and its daughter. That is why he describes Jesus as a Hebrew God. We know from other sources that even in the earliest Christian age Gentiles used the name of Jesus in exorcisms. The author of the document styles Jesus God, just as Pliny informs us that the Christians sang hymns "to Christ as to God"--Christo quasi deo. How Professor Smith can imagine that this papyrus lends any colour to his thesis of a pre-Christian Jesus it is difficult to imagine. [Jesus a Nazoræan in what sense] Still less does his thesis really profit by the text of Matthew ii, 23, in which a prophecy is adduced to the effect that the Messiah should be called a Nazoræan, and this prophecy is declared to have been fulfilled in so far as Jesus was taken by his parents to live at Nazareth in Galilee. What prophecy the evangelist had in mind is not known. But Professor W. B. Smith jumps to the conclusion that the Christians were identical with the sect of Nazoræi mentioned in Epiphanius as going back to an age before Christ; and he appeals in confirmation of this quite gratuitous hypothesis [14] to Acts xxiv, 5, where the following of Jesus is described as that of the Nazoræi. It in no way helps the thesis of the non-historicity of Jesus, even if he and his followers were members of this obscure sect; it would rather prove the opposite. Drews, following W. B. Smith, pretends in the teeth of the texts that the name is applied to Jesus only as Guardian of the World, Protector and Deliverer of men from the power of sins and dæmons, and that it has no reference to an obscure and entirely unknown village named Nazareth. He also opines that Jesus was called a Nazarene, because he was the promised Netzer or Zemah who makes all things new, and so forth. Such talk is all in the air. Why these writers boggle so much at the name Nazoræan is not easy to divine; still less to understand what Professor Smith is driving at when he writes of those whom he calls "historicists," that "They have rightly felt that the fall of Nazareth is the fall of historicism itself." Professor Burkitt has suggested that Nazareth is Chorazin spelt backwards. Wellhausen explains Nazoræan from Nesar in the name Gennessaret. In any case, as we have no first-century gazetteer or ordnance survey of Galilee, it is rash to suppose that there could have been no town there of the name. True the Talmuds and the Old Testament do not name it; but they do not profess to give a catalogue of all the places in Galilee, so their silence counts for little. [15] All we know for certain is that for the evangelist Nazoræan meant a dweller in Nazareth, and that he gave the word that sense when he met with it in an anonymous prophecy. [Mr. Robertson on myths] I feel that I ought almost to apologize to my readers for investigating at such length the hypothesis of a pre-Christian Jesus, son of a mythical Mary, and for exhibiting over so many pages its fantastic, baseless, and absurd character. But Mr. Robertson himself warns us of the necessity of showing no mercy to myths when they assume the garb of fact. For he adduces (p. 126) the William Tell myth by way of illustrating once for all "the fashion in which a fiction can even in a historical period find general acceptance." Even so it is with his own fictions. We see them making their way with such startling rapidity over England and Germany as almost to make one despair of this age of popular enlightenment. It is not his fault, and I exonerate him from blame. [His methods those of old-fashioned orthodoxy] For centuries orthodox theologians have been trying to get out of the Gospels supernaturalist conclusions which were never in them, nor could with any colour be derived from them except by deliberately ignoring the canons of evidence and the historical methods freely employed in the study of all other ancient monuments and narratives. They have set the example of treating the early writings of Christianity as no other ancient books would be treated. Mr. Robertson is humbly following in their steps, but à rebours, or in an inverse sense. They insist on getting more out of the New Testament than any historical testimony could ever furnish; he on getting less. In other respects also he imitates their methods. Thus they insist on regarding the New Testament, and in particular the four Gospels, as a homogeneous block, and will not hear of the criticism which discerns in them literary development, which detects earlier and later couches of tradition and narrative. This is what I call the Sunday-school attitude, and it lacks all perspective and orientation. Mr. Robertson imbibed it in childhood, and has never been able to throw it off. For him there is no before and after in the formation of these books, no earlier and later in the emergence of beliefs about Jesus, no stratification of documents or of ideas. If he sometimes admits it, he withdraws the admission on the next page, as militating against his cardinal hypothesis. He seems never to have submitted himself to systematic training in the methods of historical research--never, as we say, to have gone through the mill; and accordingly in the handling of documents he shows himself a mere wilful child. [Thus he insists on the priority in Christian tradition of the Virgin Birth legend] His treatment of the legend of the Virgin Birth is an example of this mental attitude, which might be described as orthodoxy turned upside down and inside out. The Gospel of Mark is demonstrably older than those of the other two synoptists who merely copied it out with such variations, additions, omissions, and modifications as a growing reverence for Jesus the Messiah imposed. It contains, no more than the Pauline Epistles and the Johannine Gospel, any hint of the supernatural birth of Jesus. It regards him quite simply and naturally as the son of Joseph and Mary. In it the neighbours of Jesus enumerate by way of contumely the names of his brothers and sisters. I have shown also in my Myth, Magic, and Morals that this naturalist tradition of his birth dominates no less the whole of the Gospels of Matthew and Luke apart from the first two chapters of each, and that even in the first chapter of Matthew the pedigree in early texts ended with the words "Joseph begat Jesus." I have shown furthermore that the belief in the paternity of Joseph was the characteristic belief of the Palestinian Christians for over two centuries, that it prevailed in Syria to the extent of regarding Jesus and Thomas as twin brothers. I have pointed out that the Jewish interlocutor Trypho in Justin Martyr's dialogue (c. 150) maintains that Jesus was born a man of men and rejects the Virgin Birth legend as a novelty unworthy of monotheists, and that he extorts from his Christian antagonist the admission that the great majority of Christians still believed in the paternity of Joseph. [His exceptional treatment of Christian tradition] Now Mr. Robertson evidently reads a good deal, and must at one time or another have come across all these facts. Why, then, does he go out of his way to ignore them, and, in common with Professors Drews and W. B. Smith, insist that the miraculous tradition of Jesus's birth was coeval with the earliest Christianity and prior to the tradition of a natural birth? Yet the texts stare him in the face and confute him. Why does he shut his eyes to them, and gibe perpetually at the critical students who attach weight to them? The works of all the three writers are tirades against the critical method which tries to disengage in the traditions of Jesus the true from the false, fact from myth, and to show how, in the pagan society which, as it were, lifted Jesus up out of his Jewish cradle, these myths inevitably gathered round his figure, as mists at midday thicken around a mountain crest. [In secular history he uses other canons and methods,] Their insistence that in the case of Christian origins the miraculous and the non-miraculous form a solid block of impenetrable myth is all the more remarkable, because in secular history they are prepared, nay anxious, for the separation of truth from falsehood, of history from myth, and continually urge not only its possibility, but its necessity. Mr. Robertson in particular prides himself on meting out to Apollonius of Tyana a measure which he refuses to Jesus the Messiah. [e.g., in criticizing the story of Apollonius] "The simple purport," he writes in the Literary Guide, May 1, 1913, "of my chapter on Apollonius was to acknowledge his historicity, despite the accretions of myth and more or less palpable fiction to his biography." And yet there are ten testimonies to the historicity of Jesus where there is one to that of Apollonius; yet Apollonius was reputed to have been born miraculously, and his birth accompanied by the portent of a meteor from heaven, as that of Jesus by a star from the east. Like Jesus, he controlled the devils of madness and disease, and by the power of his exorcisms dismissed them to be tortured in hell. Like Peter, he miraculously freed himself from his bonds; like Jesus, he revealed himself after death to a sceptical disciple and viva voce convinced him of his ascent to heaven; like him, he ascended in his body up to heaven amid the hymns of maiden worshippers. In life he spent seven days in the bowels of the earth, and gathered a band of disciples around him who acclaimed him as a divine being; long after his death temples were raised to him as to a demigod, miracles wrought by his relics, and prayer and sacrifice offered to his genius. So considerable was the parallelism between his story and that of Jesus that the pagan enemies of the Christians began about the year 300 to run his cult against theirs, and it was only yesterday that the orthodox began to give up the old view that the Life of Apollonius was a blasphemous réchauffé of the Gospels. "There is no great reason to doubt that India was visited by Apollonius of Tyana," writes Mr. Robertson (Christianity and Mythology, p. 273); and yet his visit in the only relation we have of it is a tissue of marvels and prodigies, his Indian itinerary is impossible, and full of contradictions not only of what we know of Indian geography to-day, but of what was already known in that day. Yet about his pilgrimage thither, declares Mr. Robertson, there is no more uncertainty than about the embassies sent by Porus to Augustus, and by the king of "Taprobane" to Claudius. "There is much myth," he writes again, p. 280, "in the life of Apollonius of Tyana, who appears to be at the bottom a real historical personage." In the Gospels we have the story of Jairus's daughter being raised to life from apparent death. "A closely similar story is found in Philostratus's Life of Apollonius of Tyana, the girl in each case being spoken of in such a way as to leave open the question of her having been dead or a cataleptic." So writes Mr. Robertson, p. 334, who thinks that "the simple form preserved in Matthew suggests the derivation from the story in Philostratus," overlooking here, as elsewhere, the chronological difficulties. We can forgive him for that; but why, we must ask, does the presence of such stories in the Gospel irrevocably condemn Jesus to non-historicity, while their presence in the Life of Apollonius leaves his historical reality intact and unchallenged? Is it not that the application of his canons of interpretation to Apollonius would have deprived him of one of the sources from which the mythicity of Jesus by his anachronistic methods could be deduced? [The early passion play of the Sun-god Joshua] Mr. Robertson endeavours in a halting manner to justify his partiality for Apollonius. "We have," he writes (Pagan Christs, p. 283, § 16), "no reason for doubting that there was an Apollonius of Tyana.... The reasons for not doubting are (1) that there was no cause to be served by a sheer fabrication; and (2) that it was a much easier matter to take a known name as a nucleus for a mass of marvels and theosophic teachings than to build it up, as the phrase goes about the canon, 'round a hole.' The difference between such a case and those of Jesuism and Buddhism is obvious. In those cases there was a cultus and an organization to be accounted for, and a biography of the founder had to be forthcoming. In the case of Apollonius, despite the string of marvels attached to his name, there was no cultus." Let us examine the above argument. In the case of "Jesuism" (Mr. Robertson's argot for early Christianity) there had to be fabricated a biography of Jesus, because there existed an organized sect that worshipped Jesus. The organized sect consisted, according to Mr. Robertson, of "Christists" or "Jesuists," and the chief incident for which they were organized was an annual play in which the God Jesus was betrayed, arrested, condemned, was crucified, died, was buried, and rose again. Ober Ammergau has supplied him with his main conception, and his annually recurring "Gospel mystery play," as he imagines it to have been acted by the "Jesuists," who were immediate ancestors of the Christians, is a faithful copy of the modern Passion Play. He supposes it to have been acted annually because the hypothetical Sun-God-Saviour Joshua, whose mythical sufferings and death it commemorated, was an analogue of Osiris, whose sufferings and death were similarly represented in Egypt each recurring spring; also of Adonis, of Dionysus, of Mithras, and of sundry vegetation gods, annually slain to revive vegetation and secure the life of the initiate in the next world. Be it remarked also that the annually slain God of the Jesuists was not only an analogue of these other gods, but a "composite myth" made up of their myths. As we have seen, Mr. Robertson is ready to exhibit to us in one or another of their mythologies the original of every single incident and actor in the Jesuist play. Such was the cultus and organization which, according to Mr. Robertson and his imitator Dr. Drews, lies behind the Christian religion. The latter began to be when the "Jesuist" cult, having broken away from Judaism, was also concerned to break away from the paganism in contact with which the play would first arise. [The Gospels a transcript of this play] A biography of the Founder of the cult was now called for, by the Founder oddly enough being meant the God himself, and not the hierophant who instituted the play. The Christian Gospels are the biography in question. They are a transcript of the annually performed ritual drama, just as Lamb's Tales from Shakespeare are transcripts of Shakespeare's plays. The first performances of the play, we learn, probably took place in Egypt. It ceased to be acted when "it was reduced to writing as part of the gospel." How far away from Jerusalem it was that the momentous decision was taken by the sect to give up play acting and be content with the transcript Mr. Robertson "can hardly divine." He hints, however, that some of the latest representations took place in the temples built by Herod at Damascus and Jericho and in the theatres of the Greek town of Gadara. "The reduction of the play to narrative form put all the Churches on a level, and would remove a stumbling block from the way of the ascetic Christists who objected to all dramatic shows as such." But where did the play come from? What inspired it? Mr. Robertson makes a tour round the Mediterranean, and collects in Part II, Ch. I, of his Pagan Christs a lot of scrappy information about mock sacrifices and mystery dramas, all of them "cases and modes of modification" of actual human sacrifices that were "once normal in the Semitic world." He assumes without a tittle of proof, and against all probability, that the annual sacrifice of a king or of a king's son, whether in real or mimic, held its ground among Jews as a religious ceremony right down into our era, and was "reduced among them to ritual form, like the leading worships of the surrounding Gentile world." He fashions a new hypothesis in accordance with these earlier ones as follows:-- [Joshua or Jesus slain once a year] "If in any Jewish community, or in the Jewish quarter of any Eastern city, the central figure in this rite (i.e., of a mock sacrifice annually recurring of a man got up to represent a god) were customarily called Jesus Barabbas, 'Jesus the Son of the Father'--whether or not in virtue of an old cultus of a God Jesus who had died annually like Attis and Tammuz--we should have a basis for the tradition so long preserved in many MSS. of the first gospel, and at the same time a basis for the whole gospel myth of the crucifixion." Here we have a whole string of hypotheses piled one on the other. Let us see which have any ground in fact, or cohere with what we know of the past, which are improbable and unproven. [Hypothesis of human sacrifice among Jews] That human sacrifice was once in vogue among the Jews is probable enough, and the story of the frustrated sacrifice of Isaac was no doubt both a memory and a condemnation of the old rite of sacrificing first-born children with which we are familiar in ancient Phoenicia and her colony of Carthage. That such rites in Judæa and in Israel did not survive the Assyrian conquest of Jerusalem is certain. The latest allusion to them is in Isaiah xxx, 27-33. This passage is post-exilic indeed; but, as Dr. Cheyne remarks (Encycl. Biblica, art. Molech, col. 3,187): "The tone of the allusion is rather that of a writer remote from these atrocities than of a prophet in the midst of the struggle against them." We may then assume (1) that the custom of human sacrifice disappeared among Jews centuries before our era; (2) that in the epoch 100 B.C. to 100 A.D. every Jew, no matter where he lived, would view such rites and reminiscences with horror. As a matter of fact, Philo dwells in eloquent language on the horror and abomination of them as they were still in his day sporadically celebrated, not among Jews, but among pagans. This being so, is it likely that any Jewish community would keep up even the simulacrum of such rites? In Josephus and Philo, who are our most important witnesses to the Judaism that just preceded or was contemporary with early Christianity, there is no hint of such rites as might constitute a memory and mimicry of human victims, whether identified with a god or not. No serious pagan writer of that age ever accused the Jews of keeping up such rites openly or in secret among themselves. [Evidence of Apion accepted by Mr. Robertson] Apion alone had a cock-and-bull story of how Antiochus Epiphanes, when he took Jerusalem (c. 170 B.C.), found a Greek being fattened up by the Jews in the adytum of the temple about to be slain and eaten in honour of their god. Of course Mr. Robertson catches at this, and writes (Pagan Christs, p. 161) that, "in view of all the clues, we cannot pronounce that story incredible." What clues has he? The undoubted survival of ritual murder among the pagans of Phoenicia in that age is no clue, though it explains the genesis of Apion's tale. And Mr. Robertson has one other treasure trove--to wit, the obscure reading "Jesus Barabbas" in certain MSS. of Matthew xxvii, 17: "Pilate said unto them, Whom will ye that I release unto you? (Jesus) Barabbas, or Jesus which is called Christ?" [The sacrificing of the mock king] It has been plausibly suggested that the addition Jesus is due to a scribe's reduplication, such as is common in Greek manuscripts, of the last syllable of the word humin = unto you. The in in uncials is a regular compendium for Iesun Jesus. In this way the name Jesus may have crept in before Barabbas. The entire story of Barabbas being released has an apocryphal air, for Pilate would not have let off a rebel against the Roman rule to please the Jewish mob; and the episode presupposes that it was the Sanhedrin which had condemned Jesus to death, which is equally improbable. What is probable, however, is that the Syrian soldiery to whom Pilate committed Jesus for crucifixion were accustomed to the Sacæa festival of Babylonian origin, and perhaps to the analogous Roman feast of the Saturnalia. In such celebrations a mock king was chosen, and vested with the costume, pomp, and privileges of kingship perhaps for as long as three days. Then the mimicry of slaying him was gone through, and sometimes the mock king was really put to death. Among Syrians the name Barabbas may--it is a mere hypothesis--have been the conventional appellation of the victim slain actually or in mock show on such occasions; and the soldiers of Pilate may have treated him en Barabbas. Loisy suggests in his Commentary on the Synoptics that this was the genesis of the Barabbas story. That a pagan soldiery treated Jesus as a mock king, when they dressed him in purple and set a crown of thorns on his head, and, kneeling before him, cried "Hail King of the Jews," is quite possible; and serious scholars like Paul Wendland (Hermes, Vol. XXXIII (1898), fol. 175) and Mr. W. R. Paton long ago discerned the probability. But it was one thing for Syrians and pagans to envisage the crucifixion of Jesus under the aspect of a sacrifice to Molech, quite another thing for Jews--whether as his enemies or as his partisans--to do so; nor does the Gospel narrative suggest that any Jews took part in the ceremony. Perhaps it was out of respect for Jewish susceptibilities--and they were not likely to favour any mockery of their Messianic aspirations--that Pilate caused Jesus to be divested of the purple insignia of royalty and clad in his usual garb before he was led out of the guardroom and through the streets of Jerusalem on his way to Golgotha. [Evidence of Philo] We read in Philo (In Flaccum, vi) of a very similar scene enacted in the streets of Alexandria within ten years of the crucifixion. The young Agrippa, elevated by Caligula to the throne of Judæa, had landed in that city, where feeling ran high between Jews and pagans. The latter, by way of ridiculing the pretensions of the Jews to have a king of their own, seized on a poor lunatic named Carabas who loitered night and day naked about the streets, ran him as far as the Gymnasium, and there stood him on a stool, so that all could see him, having first set a mock diadem of byblus on his head and thrown a rug over his shoulders as a cloak of honour. In his hand they set a papyrus stem by way of sceptre. Having thus arrayed him, as in a mime of the theatre, with the insignia of mock royalty, the young men shouldering sticks, as if they were a bodyguard, encircled him, while others advanced, saluted his mock majesty, and pretended that he was their judge and king sitting on his throne to direct the commonwealth. Meanwhile a shout went up from the crowd around of Marin, which in the Syrian language signified Lord. This passage of Philo goes far to prove that the mockery of Jesus in the Gospels was no more than a public ridiculing of the Jewish expectations of a national leader or Messiah who should revive the splendours of the old Davidic kingdom. In any case, the mockery is conducted at Jerusalem by Pilate's soldiers (who were not Jews, but a pagan garrison put there to overawe the Jews), at Alexandria by such Greeks as Apion penned his calumnies to gratify. Mr. Robertson's suggestion that the mock ceremony of the crucifixion was performed by Jews or Christians is thus as absurd as it is gratuitous. It was held in bitter despite of Jews and Christians, it was a mockery and reviling of their most cherished hopes and ideals; and yet he does not scruple to argue that it is "a basis for the whole gospel myth of the crucifixion." [Evidence of the Khonds] Thus he is left with the single calumny of Apion, which deserves about as much credence as the similar tales circulated to-day against the Jews of Bessarabia. That is the single item of evidence he has to prove what is the very hinge of his theory--the supposition, namely, that the Jews of Alexandria first, and afterwards the Jews of Jerusalem, celebrated in secret once a year ritual dramas representing the ceremonial slaying of a Sun-God-Saviour Joshua, Son of the Father and of the Virgin Miriam. It is a far cry to the horrible rites of the Khonds of modern India; but Mr. Robertson, for whom wide differences of age and place matter nothing when he is explaining Christian origins, has discovered in them a key to the narrative of the crucifixion of Jesus. He runs all round the world and collects rites of ritual murder and cannibal sacraments of all ages, mixes them up, lumps them down before us, and exclaims triumphantly, There is my "psychological clue" to Christianity. The most superficial resemblances satisfy him that an incident in Jerusalem early in our era is an essential reproduction of a Khond ritual murder in honour of the goddess Tari. Was there ever an author so hopelessly uncritical in his methods? [Origin of the Gospels] The Gospels, then, are a transcript of a mock murder of the Sun-god Joshua annually performed in secret by the Jews of Jerusalem, for it had got there before it was written down and discontinued. One asks oneself why, if the Jews had tolerated so long a pagan survival among themselves, they could not keep it up a little longer; and why the "Christists" should be so anxious "to break away from paganism" at exactly the same hour. Moreover, their breach with paganism did not amount to much, since they kept the transcript of a ritual drama framed on pagan lines and inspired throughout by pagan ideas and myths; not only kept it, but elevated it into Holy Scripture. At the same time they retained the Old Testament, which as Jews they had immemorially venerated as Holy Scripture; and for generations they went on worshipping in the Jewish temple, kept the Jewish feasts and fasts, and were zealous for circumcision. What a hotchpotch of a sect! [How could a Sun-god slain annually be slain by Pontius Pilate?] It occurs to me to ask Mr. Robertson a few questions about this transcript. It was the annual mystery play reduced to writing. The central event of the play was the annual death and resurrection of a solar or vegetation god, whose attributes and career were borrowed from the cults of Osiris, Adonis, Dionysus, and Co. All these gods died once a year; and, I suppose, had you asked one of the votaries when his god died, he would have answered, Every spring. Now all the Gospels (in common with all Christian tradition) are unanimous that Jesus only died once, about the time of the Passover, when Pilate was Roman Governor of Judæa, when Annas and Caiaphas were high-priests and King Herod about. This surely is an extraordinary record for a Sun-god who died once a year. And it was not in the transcript only that all these fixities of date crept in, for Mr. Robertson insists most vehemently that Pilate was an actor in the play. "Even the episode," he writes (Pagan Christs, p. 193), "of the appeal of the priests and Pharisees to Pilate to keep a guard on the tomb, though it might be a later interpolation, could quite well have been a dramatic scene." In Mark and Matthew, as containing "the earlier version" of the drama, he detects everywhere a "concrete theatricality." Thus he commits himself to the astonishing paralogism that Pilate and Herod, Annas and Caiaphas, and all the other personages of the closing chapters of the Gospels, were features in an annually recurring passion play of the Sun-god Joshua; and this play was not a novelty introduced after the crucifixion, for there never was a real crucifixion. On the contrary, it was a secret survival among paganized Jews, a bit of Jewish pagan mummery that had been going on long ages before the actors represented in it ever lived or were heard of. Such is the reductio ad absurdum of the thesis which peeps out everywhere in Mr. Robertson's pages. And now we have found what we were in search of--namely, the cultus and organization to account for which a biography of Jesus had to be fabricated. The Life of Apollonius, argues Mr. Robertson, cannot have been built up round a hole, and as there was no organized cult of him (this is utterly false), there must have been a real figure to fit the biography. In the other case the organized and pre-existing cult was the nucleus around which the Gospels grew up like fairy rings around a primal fungus. It is not obvious why a cult should exclude a real founder, or, rather, a real person, in honour of whom the cult was kept up. In the worship of the Augustus or of the ancient Pharaoh, who impersonated and was Osiris, we have both. Why not have both in the case of Jesus, to whose real life and subsequent deification the Augusti and the Pharaohs offer a remarkable parallel? But there never was any pre-Christian cult and organization in Mr. Robertson's sense. It is a monstrous outgrowth of his own imagination. [Historicity of Plato falls by the canons of the mythicists] And as in the case of Apollonius, so in the case of other ancients, he is careful not to apply those methods of interpretation which he yet cannot pardon scholars for not applying to Jesus. Let us take another example. Of the life of Plato we know next to nothing. In the dialogues attributed to him his name is only mentioned twice; and in both cases its mention could, if we adopt Mr. Robertson's canons of interpretation, be with the utmost ease explained away as an interpolation. The only life we have of him was penned by Diogenes Laertius 600 years after he lived. The details of his life supplied by Aristoxenus, a pupil of Aristotle, are obviously false. The only notices preserved of him that can be claimed to be contemporary are the few derived from his nephew Speusippus. Now what had Speusippus to tell? Why, a story of the birth of Plato which, as Mr. Robertson (p. 293) writes, scarcely differs from the story of Matthew i, 18-25: "In the special machinery of the Joseph and Mary myth--the warning in a dream and the abstention of the husband--we have a simple duplication of the relations of the father and mother of Plato, the former being warned in a dream by Apollo, so that the child was virgin-born." Again, just as the Christians chose a "solar date" for the birthday of Jesus, so the Platonists, according to Mr. Robertson, p. 308, "placed the master's birthday on that of Apollo--that is, either at Christmas or at the vernal equinox." Now in the case of Jesus such legends and events as the above suffice to convince Mr. Robertson that the history of Jesus as told in the Gospels is a mere survival of "ancient solar or other worship of a babe Joshua, son of Miriam," of which ancient worship nothing is known except that it looms large in the imagination of himself, of Dr. Drews, and of Professor W. B. Smith. On the other hand, we do know that a cult of Apollo existed, and that it is no fiction of these modern writers. Surely, then, it is time we changed our opinion about the historicity of Plato. Is it not as clear as daylight that he was the survival of a pre-Platonic Apollo myth? We know the rôle assigned to Apollo of revealer of philosophic truth. Well, here were the dialogues and letters of Plato, calling for an explanation of their origin; a sect of Platonists who cherished these writings and kept the feast of their master on a solar date. On all the principles of the new mythico-symbolic system Plato, as a man, had no right to exist. "Without Jesus," writes Drews, "the rise of Christianity can be quite well understood." Yes, and, by the same logic, no less the rise of Platonism without Plato, or of the cult of Apollonius without Apollonius. What is sauce for the goose is surely sauce for the gander. With a mere change of names we could write of Plato what on p. 282 Mr. Robertson writes of Jesus. Let us do it: "The gospel Jesus (read dialogist Plato) is as enigmatic from a humanist as from a supernaturalist point of view. Miraculously born, to the knowledge of many (read of his nephew Speusippus, of Clearchus whose testimony 'belongs to Plato's generation,' of Anaxilides the historian and others), he reappears as a natural man even in the opinion of his parents (read of nephew Speusippus and the rest); the myth will not cohere. Rationally considered, he (Plato) is an unintelligible portent; a Galilean (read Athenian) of the common people, critically untraceable till his full manhood, when he suddenly appears as a cult-founder." [The Virgin Birth no part of the earliest Gospel tradition] Why does Mr. Robertson so incessantly labour the point that the belief in the supernatural birth of Jesus came first in time, and was anterior to the belief that he was born a man of men? This he implies in the words just cited: "Miraculously born, to the knowledge of many, he reappears as a natural man." A story almost identical with that of the Massacre of the Innocents by Herod was, Mr. Robertson tells us (p. 184), told of the Emperor Augustus in his lifetime, and appears in Suetonius "as accepted history." And elsewhere (p. 395) he writes: "It was after these precedents (i.e., of Antiochus and Ptolemy) that Augustus, besides having himself given out, like Alexander, as begotten of a God, caused himself to be proclaimed in the East ... as being born under Providence a Saviour and a God and the beginning of an Evangel of peace to mankind." Like Plato's story, then, so the official and contemporary legends of Augustus closely resembled the later ones of Jesus. Yet Mr. Robertson complacently accepts the historicity of Plato and Augustus, merely brushing aside the miraculous stories and supernatural rôle. Nowhere in his works does he manifest the faintest desire to apply in the domain of profane history the canons which he so rigidly enforces in ecclesiastical. Yet there are passages in Mr. Robertson's works where he seems, to use his own phrase, to "glimpse" the truth. Thus, on p. 124 of Christianity and Mythology he writes: "Jesus is said to be born of a Virgin; but not in the original version of the first gospel; and not in the second; and not in the fourth; and not in any writing or by any mouth known to or credited by the writers of the Pauline Epistles. Here we see how a myth may be superimposed on a cult." Does not this mean that a cult of Jesus already existed before this myth was added, and that the myth is absent in the earliest documents of the cult? Again, on p. 274, he writes that "the Christian Virgin-myth and Virgin-and-child worship are certainly of pre-Christian origin, and of comparatively late Christian acceptance." Yet, when I drew attention in the Literary Guide of December 1, 1912, to the inconsistency with this passage of the later one above cited, which asserts that, "Miraculously born, to the knowledge of many, he reappears as a natural man," he replied (January 1, 1913) that "a reader of ordinary candour would understand that 'acceptance' applied to the official action of the Church." It appears, therefore, that in the cryptic secret society of the Joshua Sun-God-Saviour, which held its séances at Jerusalem at the beginning of our era, there was an official circle which lagged behind the unofficial multitude. The latter knew from the first that their solar myth was miraculously born; but the official and controlling inner circle ignored the miracle until late in the development of the cult, and then at last issued a number of documents from which it was excluded. One wonders why. Why trouble to utter these documents in which Jesus "reappears as a natural man," long after the sect as a whole were committed to the miraculous birth? What is the meaning of these wheels within wheels, that hardly hunt together? We await an explanation. Meanwhile let us probe the new mythico-symbolism a little further. [The cleansing of the temple] Why did the solar God Joshua-Jesus scourge the money-changers out of the temple? Answer: Because it is told of Apollonius of Tyana, "that he expelled from the cities of the left bank of the Hellespont some sorcerers who were extorting money for a great propitiatory sacrifice to prevent earthquakes." The connection is beautifully obvious like the rest of our author's rapprochements; but we must accept it, or we shall lay ourselves open to the reproach of "psychological resistance to evidence." Nor must we ask how the memoirs of Damis, that lay in a corner till Philostratus got hold of them in the year 215, enjoyed so much vogue among the "Christists" of Jerusalem long years before they can conceivably have been written. Why on the occasion in question did Jesus make a scourge of cords with which to drive the sheep and oxen out of the Temple? Answer: "Because in the Assyrian and Egyptian systems a scourge-bearing god is a very common figure on the monuments ... it is specially associated with Osiris, the Saviour, Judge, and Avenger. A figure of Osiris, reverenced as 'Chrestos' the benign God, would suffice to set up among Christists as erewhile among pagans the demand for an explanation." Here we get a precious insight into the why and wherefore of the Gospels. They were intended by the "Christists" to explain the meaning of Osiris statues. Why could they not have asked one of the priests of Osiris, who as a rule might be found in the neighbourhood of his statues, what the emblem meant? And, after all, were statues of Osiris so plentiful in Jerusalem, where the sight even of a Roman eagle aroused a riot? [Janus-Peter the bifrons] Who was Peter? Answer: An understudy of Mithras, who in the monuments bears two keys; or of Janus, who bears the keys and the rod, and as opener of the year (hence the name January) stands at the head of the twelve months. Why did Peter deny Jesus? Answer: Because Janus was called bifrons. The epithet puzzled the "Christists" or "Jesuists" of Jerusalem, who, instead of asking the first Roman soldier they met what it meant, proceeded to render the word bifrons in the sense of "double-faced," quite a proper epithet they thought for Peter, who thenceforth had to be held guilty of an act of double-dealing. For we must not forget that it was the epithet which suggested to the Christists the invention of the story, and not the story that of the epithet. But even Mr. Robertson is not quite sure of this; and it does not matter, where there is such a wealth of alternatives. For Peter is also an understudy of "the fickle Proteus." Janus's double head was anyhow common on coins, and with that highly relevant observation he essays to protect his theories of Janus-Peter from any possible criticisms. Indeed, we are forbidden to call in question the above conclusions. They are quite certain, because the "Christists" were intellectually "about the business of forming myths in explanation of old ritual and old statuary" (p. 350). Wonderful people these early "Christists," who, although they were, as Mr. Robertson informs us (p. 348), "apostles of a Judaic cult preaching circumcision," and therefore by instinct inimical to all plastic art, nevertheless rivalled the modern archæologist in their desire to explain old statuary. They seem to have been the prototypes of the Jews of Wardour Street. No less wonderful were they as philologists, in that, being Hebrews and presumably speaking Aramaic, they took such a healthy interest in the meaning of Latin words, and discovered in bifrons a sense which it never bore in any Latin author who ever used it! [The keys of Peter] It appears to have escaped the notice of Professor Franz Cumont that Mithras carries in his monuments two keys. The two keys were an attribute of the Mithraic Kronos, in old Persian Zervan, whom relatively late the Latins confused with Janus, who also had two heads and carried keys. That late Christian images of Peter were imitated from statues of these gods no one need doubt, and Fr. Cumont (Monuments de Mithras, i, 85) does not reject such an idea. It is quite another thing to assume dogmatically that the text Matthew xvi, 19 was suggested by a statue of Janus or of Zervan. To explain it you need not leave Jewish ground, but merely glance at Isaiah xxii, 22, where the Lord is made to say of Eliakim: "And the key of the house of David will I lay upon his shoulder; and he shall open and none shall shut; and he shall shut and none shall open." The same imagery meets us in Revelation iii, 7 (copied from Isaiah), Luke xi, 52, and elsewhere. A. Sulzbach (in Ztschr. f.d. Neutest. Wissenschaft, 1903, p. 190) points out that every Jew, up to A.D. 70, would understand such imagery, for he saw every evening the temple keys ceremoniously taken from a hole under the temple floor, where they were kept under a slab of stone. The Levite watcher locked up the temple and replaced the keys under the slab, upon which he then laid his bed for the night. In connection with the magic power of binding and loosing the keys had, of course, a further and magical significance, not in Judæa alone, but all over the world, and the Evangelists did not need to examine statues of Janus or Zervan in order to come by this bit of everyday symbolism. N.B.--No connection of Janus-Peter of the Gospels with Peter of the Pauline Epistles! The one was a mythical companion of the Sun-god, the other a man of flesh and blood, according to Mr. Robertson. [Joseph and his ass] Who was Joseph? Answer: Forasmuch as "the Christian system is a patchwork of a hundred suggestions drawn from pagan art and ritual usage" (p. 305), and "Christism was only neo-Paganism grafted on Judaism" (p. 338), Joseph must be regarded as "a partial revival of the ancient adoration of the God Joseph as well as of that of the God Daoud" (p. 303). He was also, seeing that he took Mary and her child on an ass into Egypt, a reminiscence; or, shall we not say, an explanation of "the feeble old man leading an ass in the sacred procession of Isis, as described by Apuleius in his Metamorphoses." There is no mention of Joseph's ass in the Gospels, but that does not matter. Dr. Drews is better informed, and would have us recognize in Joseph an understudy of Kinyras, the father of Adonis, who "is said to have been some kind of artisan, a smith, or carpenter. That is to say, he is supposed to have invented the hammer," etc. Might I suggest the addition of the god Thor to the collection of gospel aliases? The gods Joseph and Daoud are purely modern fictions; no ancient Jew ever heard of either. Why was Jesus crucified? [The Crucifixion] "The story of the Crucifixion may rest on the remote datum of an actual crucifixion of Jesus Ben Pandira, the possible Jesus of Paul, dead long before, and represented by no preserved biography or teachings whatever." The Christists were clearly pastmasters in the art of explaining ignotum per ignotius. For on the next page we learn that it is not known whether this worthy "ever lived or was crucified." In Pagan Christs he is acknowledged to be a "mere name." However this be, "it was the mythic significance of crucifixion that made the early fortune of the cult, with the aid of the mythic significance of the name Jeschu = Joshua, the ancient Sun-god." The meaning of this oracular pronouncement is too profound for me to attempt to fathom it. Let us pass on to another point in the new elucidation of the Gospels. [W. B. Smith on exorcisms of devils] What were the exorcisms of evil spirits ascribed to the ancient Sun-god Joshua, under his alias of Jesus of Nazareth? In his Pagan Christs, as in his Christianity and Mythology, Mr. Robertson unkindly leaves us in the lurch about this matter, although we would dearly like to know what were the particular archæological researches of the "Christists" and "Jesuists" that led them to coin these myths of exorcisms performed, and of devils cast out of the mad or sick by their solar myth. Nor does Dr. Drews help us much. Never mind. Professor W. B. Smith nobly stands in the breach, so we will let him take up the parable; the more so because, in handling this problem, he may be said to have excelled himself. On p. 57, then, of Ecce Deus, he premises, in approaching this delicate topic, that "in the activity of the Jesus and the apostles, as delineated in the Gospels, the one all-important moment is the casting-out of demons." With this all will agree; but what follows is barely consonant with the thesis of his friends. He cites in effect Mark iii, 14, 15, and the parallel passages in which Jesus is related to have sent forth the twelve disciples to preach and to have authority to cast out the demons. Now, according to the mythico-symbolical theory, the career of Jesus and his disciples lay not on earth, but in that happy region where mythological personages live and move and have their being. As Dr. Drews says (The Christ Myth, p. 117): "In reality the whole of the family and home life of the Messiah, Jesus, took place in heaven among the gods." Accordingly, Dr. W. B. Smith finds it "amazing that anyone should hesitate an instant over the sense" of the demonological episodes in the Gospels, and he continues: "When we recall the fact that the early Christians uniformly understood the heathen gods to be demons, and uniformly represented the mission of Jesus to be the overthrow of these demon gods, it seems as clear as the sun at noon that this fall of Satan from heaven [16] can be nothing less (and how could it possibly be anything more?) than the headlong ruin of polytheism--the complete triumph of the One Eternal God. It seems superfluous to insist on anything so palpable.... Can any rational man for a moment believe that the Saviour sent forth his apostles and disciples with such awful solemnity to heal the few lunatics that languished in Galilee? Is that the way the sublimist of teachers would found the new and true religion?" In the last sentence our author nods and lapses into the historical mood; for how can one talk of a mythical Joshua being a teacher and founding a new religion--of his sending forth the apostles and disciples? These things are done on earth, and not up in heaven "among the gods," as Drews says. It is, perhaps, impertinent, for the rest, to criticize so exalted an argument as Professor Smith's; yet the question suggests itself, why, if the real object of the mystic sectaries who worshipped in secret the "Proto-Christian God, the Jesus," was to acquaint the faithful with the triumph of the heavenly Jesus over the demon-gods of paganism--why, in that case, did they wrap it up in purely demonological language? All around them exorcists, Jewish and pagan, were driving out demons of madness and disease at every street corner--dumb devils, rheumatic devils, blind devils, devils of every sort and kind. Was it entirely appropriate for these mystic devotees to encourage the use of demonological terminology, when they meant something quite else? "These early propagandists," he tells us, p. 143, "were great men, were very great men; they conceived noble and beautiful and attractive ideas, which they defended with curious learning and logic, and recommended with captivating rhetoric and persuasive oratory and consuming zeal." Surely it was within the competence of such egregious teachers to say without disguise what they really meant, instead of beating about the bush and penning stories which so nearly reproduced the grovelling superstitions of the common herd around them? They might at least have issued a Delphin edition of their gospels, with a paraphrase in the margin to explain the text and to save the faithful from taking these stories literally--for so they took them as far back as we can trace the documents; and, what is more, in all those derivative churches all over the world which continued the inner life of Professor Smith's mystic sectaries, we hear from the earliest age of the appointing of vulgar exorcists, whose duty was to expel from the faithful the demons of madness and of all forms of sickness. But worse than this. We know from Mr. Robertson and Dr. Drews that the same Proto-Christian Joshua-God, who was waging war in heaven on the pagan gods and goddesses, was himself a composite myth made up of memories of Krishna, Æsculapius, Osiris, Apollo, Dionysus, Apollonius, and a hundred other fiends. Mr. Robertson attests this, p. 305, in these words: "As we have seen and shall see throughout this investigation, the Christian system is a patchwork of a hundred suggestions drawn from pagan art and ritual usage." Is it quite appropriate that the pre-Christian Jesus or Joshua should turn and rend his pagan congeners in the manner described by Professor W. B. Smith? His mythical antecedents, as ascertained by Mr. Robertson and Dr. Drews, are grotesquely incompatible with the rôle of monotheistic founder assigned him by Professor W. B. Smith. Are we to suppose that the learned and eloquent propagandists of his cult were aware of this incompatibility, and for that reason chose to veil their monotheistic propaganda in the decent obscurity of everyday demonological language? [Mary and her homonyms] Who was Mary, the mother of Jesus? Let Dr. Drews speak first:-- Now if Joseph, as we have already seen, was originally a god, Mary, the mother of Jesus, was a goddess. Under the name of Maya, she is the mother of Agni--i.e., the principle of motherhood and creation simply, as which she is in the Rigveda at one time represented by the fire-producing wood, the soft pith, in which the fire-stick was whirled; at another as the earth, with which the sky has mated. She appears under the same name as the mother of Buddha as well as of the Greek Hermes. She is identical with Maira (Maera) as, according to Pausanias, viii, 12, 48, the pleiad Maia, wife of Hephaistos was called. She appears among the Persians as the "virgin" mother of Mithras. As Myrrha she is the mother of the Syrian Adonis; as Semiramis, mother of the Babylonian Ninus (Marduk). In the Arabic legend she appears under the name of Mirzam as mother of the mythical saviour Joshua; while the Old Testament gives this name to the virgin sister of that Joshua who was so closely related to Moses; and, according to Eusebius, Merris was the name of the Egyptian princess who found Moses in a basket and became his foster mother. The above purpureus pannus is borrowed by Dr. Drews in the second edition of his work from Mr. Robertson's book, p. 297. Here is the original:-- It is not possible from the existing data to connect historically such a cult with its congeners; but the mere analogy of names and epithets goes far. The mother of Adonis, the slain "Lord" of the great Syrian cult, is Myrrha; and Myrrha in one of her myths is the weeping tree from which the babe Adonis is born. Again, Hermes, the Greek Logos, has for mother Maia, whose name has further connections with Mary. In one myth Maia is the daughter of Atlas, thus doubling with Maira, who has the same father, and who, having "died a virgin," was seen by Odysseus in Hades. Mythologically, Maira is identified with the Dog-Star, which is the star of Isis. Yet again, the name appears in the East as Maya, the virgin-mother of Buddha; and it is remarkable that, according to a Jewish legend, the name of the Egyptian princess who found the babe Moses was Merris. The plot is still further thickened by the fact that, as we learn from the monuments, one of the daughters of Ramses II was named Meri. And as Meri meant "beloved," and the name was at times given to men, besides being used in the phrase "beloved of the gods," the field of mythic speculation is wide. And we feel that it is, indeed, wide, when, on p. 301, the three Marias mentioned by Mark are equated with the three Moirai or Fates! In another passage we meet afresh with one of these equations, p. 306. It runs thus: "On the hypothesis that the mythical Joshua, son of Miriam, was an early Hebrew deity, it may be that one form of the Tammuz cult in pre-Christian times was a worship of a mother and child--Mary and Adonis; that, in short, Maria = Myrrha, and that Jesus was a name of Adonis." [Pre-philological arguments] From such deliverances we gather that in Mr. Robertson and his disciples we have survivals of a stage of culture which may be called prephilological. A hundred years ago or more the most superficial resemblance of sound was held to be enough of a ground for connecting words and names together, and Oxford divines were busy deriving all other tongues from the Hebrew spoken in the Garden of Eden by Adam and Eve. Mr. Robertson sets himself (p. 139) to ridicule these old-fashioned writers, and regales us with not a few examples of that over-facile identification of cult names that have no real mutual affinity which was then in vogue. Thus Krishna was held to be a corruption of Christ by certain oriental missionaries, just as, inversely, within my memory, certain English Rationalists argued the name Christ to be a disguise of Krishna. So Brahma was identified with Abraham, and Napoleon with the Apollyon of Revelation. One had hoped that this phase of culture was past and done with; but Messrs. Robertson and Drews revive it in their books, and seem anxious to perpetuate it. As with names, so with myths. On their every page we encounter--to use the apt phrase of M. Émile Durkheim [17]--ces rapprochements tumultueux et sommaires qui ont discredité la méthode comparative auprès d'un certain nombre de bons esprits. [Right use of comparative method] The one condition of advancing knowledge and clearing men's minds of superstition and cant by application of the comparative method in religion, is that we should apply it, as did Robertson Smith and his great predecessor, Dr. John Spencer, [18] cautiously, and in a spirit of scientific scholarship. It does not do to argue from superficial resemblances of sound that Maria is the same name as the Greek Moira, or that the name Maia has "connections with Mary"; or, again, that "the name (Maria) appears in the East as Maya." The least acquaintance with Hebrew would have satisfied Mr. Robertson that the original form of the name he thus conjures with is not Maria, but Miriam, which does not lend itself to his hardy equations. I suspect he is carried away by the parti pris which leaks out in the following passage of his henchman and imitator, Dr. Drews [19]: "The romantic cult of Jesus must be combated at all costs.... This cannot be done more effectually than by taking its basis in the theory of the historical Jesus from beneath its feet." If "at all costs" means at the cost of common sense and scholarship, I cannot agree. I am not disposed, at the invitation of any self-constituted high priest of Rationalism, to derive old Hebrew names from Egyptian, Greek, and Buddhist appellations that happen to show an initial and one or two other letters in common. I will not believe that a "Christist" of Alexandria or Jerusalem, in the streets of which the Latin language was seldom or never heard, took the epithet bifrons in a wrong sense, and straightway invented the story of a Peter who had denied Jesus. I cannot admit that the cults of Osiris, Dionysus, Apollo, or any other ancient Sun-god, are echoed in a single incident narrated in the primitive evangelical tradition that lies before us in Mark and the non-Marcan document used by the authors of the first and third Gospels; I do not believe that any really educated man or woman would for a moment entertain any of the equations propounded by Mr. Robertson, and of which I have given a few select examples. [Marett on method] Mr. Marett, in his essay entitled The Birth of Humility, by way of criticizing certain modern abuses of the comparative method in the field of the investigation of the origin of moral ideas and religious beliefs, has justly remarked that "No isolated fragment of custom or belief can be worth much for the purposes of comparative science. In order to be understood, it must first be viewed in the light of the whole culture, the whole corporate soul-life, of the particular ethnic group concerned. Hence the new way is to emphasize concrete differences, whereas the old way was to amass resemblances heedlessly abstracted from their social context. Which way is the better is a question that well-nigh answers itself." Apply the above rule to nascent Christianity. In the Synoptic Gospels Jesus ever speaks as a Jew to Jews. Jewish monotheism is presupposed by the authors of them to have been no less the heritage of Jesus than of his audiences. The rare exceptions are carefully noticed by them. This consideration has so impressed Professor W. B. Smith that he urges the thesis that the Christian religion originated as a monotheist propaganda. That is no doubt an exaggeration, for it was at first a Messianic movement or impulse among Jews, and therefore did not need to set the claims of monotheism in the foreground, and, accordingly, in the Synoptic Gospels they are nowhere urged. In spite of this exaggeration, however, Mr. Smith's book occupies a higher plane than the works of Dr. Drews and Mr. Robertson, insofar as he shows some slight insight into the original nature of the religion, whereas they show none at all. They merely, in Mr. Marett's phrase, "amass resemblances [would they were even such!] heedlessly abstracted from their context," and resolve a cult which, as it appears on the stage of history, is Jewish to its core, of which the Holy Scripture was no other than the Law and the Prophets, and of which the earliest documents, as Mr. Selwyn has shown, are saturated with the Jewish Septuagint--they try to resolve this cult into a tagrag and bobtail of Greek and Roman paganism, of Buddhism, of Brahmanism, of Mithraism (hardly yet born), of Egyptian, African, Assyrian, old Persian, [20] and any other religions with which these writers have a second-hand and superficial acquaintance. Never once do they pause and ask themselves the simple questions: firstly, how the early Christians came to be imbued with so intimate a knowledge of idolatrous cults far and near, new and old; secondly, why they set so much store by them as the mythico-symbolic hypothesis presupposes that they did; and, thirdly, why, if they valued them so much, they were at pains to translate them into the utterly different and antagonistic form which they wear in the Gospels. In a word, why should such connoisseurs of paganism have disguised themselves as monotheistic and messianic Jews? Mr. Robertson tries to save his hypothesis by injecting a little dose of Judaism into his "Christists" and "Jesuists"; but anyone who has read Philo or Josephus or the Bible, not to mention the Apostolic Fathers and Justin Martyr, will see at a glance that there is no room in history for such a hybrid. [Methods of Robertson and Lorinser] That Mr. Robertson should put his name to such works as Dr. Drews imitates and singles out for special praise is the more remarkable, because, in urging the independence of certain Hindoo cults against Christian missionaries who want to see in them mere reflections of Christianity, he shows himself both critical and wide-minded. These characteristics he displays in his refutation of the opinion of a certain Dr. Lorinser that the dialogue between Krishna and the warrior Arjuna, known as the Bhagavat Gîtâ and embodied in the old Hindoo Epic of the Mahâbhârata, "is a patchwork of Christian teaching." Dr. Lorinser had adduced a chain of passages from this document which to his mind are echoes of the New Testament. Though many of these exhibit a striking conformity with aphorisms of the Gospels, we are nevertheless constrained to agree with Mr. Robertson's criticism, which is as follows (p. 262):-- The first comment that must occur to every instructed reader on perusing these and the other "parallels" advanced by Dr. Lorinser is, that on the one hand the parallels are very frequently such as could be made by the dozen between bodies of literature which have unquestionably never been brought in contact, so strained and far-fetched are they; and that, on the other hand, they are discounted by quite as striking parallels between New Testament texts and pre-Christian pagan writings. Mr. Robertson then adduces a number of striking parallelisms between the New Testament and old Greek and Roman writers, and continues thus: "Such parallels as these, I repeat, could be multiplied to any extent from the Greek and Latin classics alone.... But is it worth while to heap up the disproof of a thesis so manifestly idle?" [Dionysus and Jesus] It occurs to ask whether it was not worth the while of Mr. Robertson to inquire whether the Evangelist could "unquestionably have been brought in contact" with the Dionysiac group of myths before he assumed so dogmatically, against students of such weight as Professor Percy Gardner and Dr. Estlin Carpenter, that the myth of Bacchus meeting with a couple of asses on his way to Dodona was the "Christist's" model for the story of Jesus riding into Jerusalem on an ass? Might he not have reflected that then, as now, there was no other way of entering Jerusalem unless you went on foot? And what has Jerusalem to do with Dodona? What has Bacchus's choice of one ass to ride on in common with Matthew's literary deformation, according to which Jesus rode on two asses at once? Lastly, what had Bacchus to do with Jesus? Has the Latin wine-god a single trait in common with the Christian founder? Is it not rather the case that any conscious or even unconscious assimilation of Bacchus myths conflicts with what Mr. Marett would call "the whole culture, the whole corporate soul-life" of the early Christian community, as the surviving documents picture it, and other evidence we have not? Yet Mr. Robertson deduces from such paltry "parallels" as the above the conclusion that Jesus, on whose real personality a score of early and independent literary sources converge, never existed at all, and that he was a "composite myth." There is no other example of an eclectic myth arbitrarily composed by connoisseurs out of a religious art and story not their own; still less of such a myth being humanized and accepted by the next generation as a Jewish Messiah. In the same context (p. 264) Mr. Robertson remarks sensibly enough that "No great research or reflection is needed to make it clear that certain commonplaces of ethics as well as of theology are equally inevitable conclusions in all religious systems that rise above savagery. Four hundred years before Jesus, Plato declared that it was very difficult for the rich to be good; does anyone believe that any thoughtful Jew needed Plato's help to reach the same notion?" I would ask, does anyone believe that a thoughtful Jew needed the stimulus of a statuette of Osiris in order that he should record, or, maybe, invent, the story of Jesus clearing the money-changers out of the temple with a scourge? Even admitting--what I am as little as anyone inclined to admit--that the Peter of the early Gospels is, as regards his personality and his actions, a fable, a mere invention of a Jewish storyteller, need we suppose that the storyteller in question depended for his inspiration on Janus? You might as well suppose that the authors of the Arabian Nights founded their stories on the myths of Greek and Roman gods. Again, the Jews were traditionally distributed into twelve tribes or clans. Let us grant only for argument's sake that the life of Jesus the Messiah as narrated in the first three Gospels is a romance, we yet must ask, Which is more probable, that the author of the romance assigned twelve apostles to Jesus because there were twelve tribes to whom the message of the impending Kingdom of God had to be carried, or because there are twelve signs in the Zodiac? He agrees (p. 347) that Luke's story of the choice of the seventy disciples "visibly connects with the Jewish idea that there were seventy nations in the world." Why, then, reject the view that Jesus chose twelve apostles because there were twelve tribes? Not at all. Having decided that Jesus was the Sun-God-Saviour Joshua, a pure figment of his brain, Mr. Robertson is ready to violate the canons of evidence he appeals to on p. 347, and will have it that in the Gospels the apostles are Zodiacal signs, and that their leader is Janus, the opener of the year. "The Zodiacal sign gives the clue" (p. 339), in his opinion, to this as to much else. [Dr. Lorinser] Let us return to the case of Dr. Lorinser. "We are asked to believe that Brahmans expounding a highly-developed Pantheism went assiduously to the (unattainable) New Testament for the wording of a number of their propositions, pantheistic and other, while assimilating absolutely nothing of distinctively Christian doctrine.... Such a position is possible only to a mesmerized believer." Surely one may exclaim of Mr. Robertson, De te fabula narratur, and rewrite the above as follows: "We are asked to believe that 'Christists,' who were so far Jewish as to practise circumcision, to use the Hebrew Scriptures, to live in Jerusalem under the presidency and patronage of the Jewish High-priest, to foster and propagate Jewish monotheism, went assiduously to the (unattainable) rites, statuary, art, and beliefs of pagan India, Egypt, Ancient Babylon, Persia, etc., for all 'the narrative myths' (p. 263) of the story in which they narrated the history of their putative founder Jesus, the Jewish Messiah, while assimilating absolutely nothing of distinctively pagan doctrine." Dr. Lorinser, for urging a thesis infinitely less absurd, is denounced as "a mesmerized believer"; and on the next page Dr. Weber, who agrees with him, is rebuked for his "judicial blindness." Yet in the same context we are told that "a crude and naïf system, like the Christism of the second gospel and the earlier form of the first, borrows inevitably from the more highly evolved systems with which it comes socially in contact, absorbing myth and mystery and dogma till it becomes as sophisticated as they." It is quite true, as Gibbon observed, that the naïf figure of Jesus, as presented in the Synoptic Gospels, was soon overlaid with that of the logos, and all sorts of Christological cobwebs were within a few generations spun around his head to the effacement both of the teacher and of what he taught. But in the earliest body of the evangelical tradition, as we can construct it from the first three Gospels, there is little or nothing that is not essentially Jewish and racy of the soil of Judæa. The borrowings of Christianity from pagan neighbours began with the flocking into the new Messianic society of Gentile converts. The earlier borrowings with which Messrs. Robertson and Drews fill their volumes are one and all "resemblances heedlessly abstracted from their context," and are as far-fetched and as fanciful as the dreams of the adherents of the Banner of Israel, or as the cypher of the Bacon-Shakesperians, over which Mr. Robertson is prone to make merry. "Is it," to use his own words, "worth while to heap up the disproof of a thesis so manifestly idle?" CHAPTER II PAGAN MYSTERY PLAYS [Is Mark's Gospel a religious romance?] I can imagine some people arguing that Mark's Gospel might be a religious novel, of which the scene is laid in Jerusalem and Galilee among Jews; that it was by a literary artifice impregnated with Jewish ideas; that the references to Sadducees and Pharisees were introduced as appropriate to the age and clime; that the old Jewish Scriptures are for the same reason acknowledged by all the actors and interlocutors as holy writ; that demonological beliefs were thrown in as being characteristic of Palestinian society of the time the writer purported to write about; that it is of the nature of a literary trick that the peculiar Messianic and Apocalyptic beliefs and aspirations rife among Jews of the period B.C. 50-A.D. 160 and later, are made to colour the narrative from beginning to end. All these elements of verisimilitude, I say, taken singly or together, do not of necessity exclude the hypothesis that it may be one of the most skilfully constructed historical novels ever written. Have we not, it may be urged, in the Recognitions or Itinerary of Saint Clement, in the Acts of Thomas, in the story of Paul and Thecla, similar compositions? [Certainly not in the way assumed by Drews and Robertson,] In view of what we know of the dates and diffusion of the Gospels, of their literary connections with one another, and of the reappearance of their chief personæ dramatis in the Pauline letters, such a hypothesis is of course wildly improbable, yet not utterly absurd. We have to assume in the writer a knowledge of the Messianic movement among the Jews, a familiarity with their demonological beliefs and practices, with their sects, and so forth; and it is all readily assumable. In the Greek novel of Chariton we have an example of such an historical romance, the scene being laid in Syracuse and Asia Minor shortly after the close of the Peloponnesian war. But such romances are not cult documents of a parabolic or allegorical kind, as the Gospels are supposed by these writers to be. They do not bring a divine being down from Olympus, and pretend all through that he was a man who was born, lived, and died on the cross in a particular place and at a particular date. We have no other example of documents whose authors, by way of honouring a God up in heaven who never made any epiphany on earth nor ever underwent incarnation, made a man of him, and concocted an elaborate earthly record of him. Why did they do it? What was the object of the "Jesuists" and "Christists" in hoaxing their own and all subsequent generations and in building up a lasting cult and Church on what they knew were fables? [whose hypothesis is self-destructive,] In the Homeric hymns and other religious documents not only of the Greeks, but of the Hindoos, we have no doubt histories of the gods written by their votaries; but in these hymns they put down what they believed, they did not of set design falsify the legend of the god, and describe his birth and parentage, when they knew he never had any; his ministrations and teaching career, when he never ministered or taught; his persecution by enemies and his death, when he was never persecuted and never died. Or are we to suppose that all these things were related in the Sun-god Joshua legend? No, reply Messrs. Drews and Robertson. For the stories told in the Gospels are all modelled on pagan or astral myths; the persons who move in their pages are the gods and demigods of Egyptian, Greek, Latin, Hindoo legends. Clearly the Saviour-God Joshua had no legend or story of his own, or it would not be necessary to pad him out with the furniture and appurtenances of Osiris, Dionysus, Serapis, Æsculapius, and who knows what other gods besides. And--strangest feature of all--it is Jews, men circumcised, propagandists of Jewish monotheism, who, in the interests of "a Judaic cult" (p. 348), go rummaging in all the dustbins of paganism, in order to construct a legend or allegory of their god. Why could they not rest content with him as they found him in their ancient tradition? [and irreconcilable with ascertained history of Judaism] The Gospels, like any other ancient document, have to be accounted for. They did not engender themselves, like a mushroom, nor drop out of heaven ready written. I have admitted as possible, though wild and extravagant, the hypothesis of their being a Messianic romance, which subsequently came to be mistaken for sober history; and there are of course plenty of legendary incidents in their pages. But such a hypothesis need not be discussed. It is not that of these three authors, and would not suit them. They insist on seeing in them so many manifestoes of the secret sect of Jews who worshipped a god Joshua. For Dr. Drews and Mr. Robertson the Gospels describe a "Jesuine" mystery play evolved "from a Palestinian rite of human sacrifice in which the annual victim was 'Jesus the Son of the Father.'" There is no trace in Jewish antiquity of any such rite in epochs which even remotely preceded Christianity, nor is the survival of such a rite of human sacrifice even thinkable in Jerusalem, where the "Christists" laid their plot. And why should they eke out their plot with a thousand scraps of pagan mythology? [Prof. Smith's hypothesis of a mythical Jesus mythically humanized in a monotheistic propaganda,] I was taught in my childhood to venerate the Gospels; but I never knew before what really wonderful documents they are. Let us, however, turn to Professor W. B. Smith, who does not pile on paganism so profusely as his friends, nor exactly insist on a pagan basis for the Gospels. His hypothesis in brief is identical with theirs, for he insists that Jesus the man never existed at all. Jesus is, in Professor Smith's phrase, "a humanized God"; in the diction of Messrs. Drews and Robertson, a myth. Professor Smith allows (Ecce Deus, p. 78) that the mere "fact that a myth, or several myths, may be found associated with the name of an individual by no means relegates that individual into the class of the unhistorical." That is good sense, and so is the admission which follows, that "we may often explain the legends from the presence of the historical personality, independently known to be historic." But in regard to Jesus alone among the figures of the past he, like his friends, rules out both considerations. The common starting-point of all three writers is that the earliest Gospel narratives do not "describe any human character at all; on the contrary, the individuality in question is distinctly divine and not human, in the earliest portrayal. As time goes on it is true that certain human elements do creep in, particularly in Luke and John.... In Mark there is really no man at all; the Jesus is God, or at least essentially divine, throughout. He wears only a transparent garment of flesh. Mark historizes only." [lacks all confirmation, defies the texts,] How is it, we ask, that humanity has pored over the Synoptic Gospels for nearly two thousand years, and discerned in them the portraiture at least of a man of flesh and blood, who can be imaged as such in statuary and painting? Even if it were conceded, as I said above, that the Gospel representation of Jesus is an imaginary portrait, like that of William Tell or John Inglesant, still, who, that is not mad, will deny that there exist in it multiple human traits, fictions may be of a novelist, yet indisputably there? Mr. Smith's hardy denial of them can only lead his readers to suspect him of paradox. Moreover, the champions of traditional orthodoxy have had in the past every reason to side with Professor Smith in his attempted elimination of all human traits and characteristics. Yet in recent years they have been constrained to admit that in Luke and John the human elements, far from creeping in, show signs of creeping out. "The received notion," adds Professor Smith, "that in the early Marcan narratives the Jesus is distinctly human, and that the process of deification is fulfilled in John, is precisely the reverse of the truth." Once more we rub our eyes. In Mark Jesus is little more than that most familiar of old Jewish figures, an earthly herald of the imminent kingdom of heaven; late and little by little he is recognized by his followers as himself the Messiah whose advent he formerly heralded. As yet he is neither divine nor the incarnation of a pre-existent quasi-divine Logos or angel. In John, on the other hand, Jesus has emerged from the purely Jewish phase of being Messiah, or servant of God (which is all that Lord or Son of God [21] implies in Mark's opening verses). He has become the eternal Logos or Reason, essentially divine and from the beginning with God. [and rests on an obsolete and absurd allegorization of them] Here obviously we are well on our way to a deification of Jesus and an elimination of human traits; and the writer is so conscious of this that he goes out of his way to call our attention to the fact that Jesus was after all a man of flesh and blood, with human parents and real brethren who disbelieved in him. He was evidently conscious that the superimposition on the man Jesus of the Logos scheme, and the reflection back into the human life of Jesus of the heavenly rôle which Paul ascribed to him qua raised by the Spirit from the dead, was already influencing certain believers (called Docetes) to believe that his human life and actions were illusions, seen and heard indeed, as we see and hear a man speak and act in a dream, but not objective and real. To guard against this John proclaims that he was made flesh. Nevertheless, he goes half way with the Docetes in that he rewrites all the conversations of Jesus, abolishes the homely parable, and substitutes his own theosophic lucubrations. He also emphasizes the miraculous aspect of Jesus, inventing new miracles more grandiose than any in previous gospels, but of a kind, as he imagines, to symbolize his conceptions of sin and death. He is careful to eliminate the demonological stories. They were as much of a stumbling-block to John as we have seen them to be to Mr. W. B. Smith. We must, therefore, perforce accuse the latter of putting a hypothesis that from the outset is a paradox. The documents contradict him on every page. [Why should the robber chief Joshua have been selected as prototype of Jesus?] A thesis that begins by flying in the face of the documents demands paradoxical arguments for its support; and the pages of all three writers teem with them. Of a Jesus that is God from the first it is perhaps natural to ask--anyhow our authors have asked it of themselves--which God was he? And the accident of his bearing the name Jesus--he might just as well have been called Jacob or Sadoc or Manasseh, or what not--suggests Joshua to them, for Joshua is the Hebrew name which in the LXX was Grecized as Iesoue, and later as Iesous. That in the Old Testament Joshua is depicted as a cut-throat and leader of brigands, very remote in his principles and practice from the Jesus of the Gospels, counts for nothing. The late Dr. Winckler, who saw sun and moon myths rising like exhalations all around him wherever he looked in ancient history and mythology, [22] has suggested that Joseph was originally a solar hero. Ergo, Joshua was one too. Ergo, there was a Hebrew secret society in Jerusalem in the period B.C. 150-A.D. 50 who worshipped the Sun-God-Saviour Joshua. Ergo, the Gospels are a sustained parable of this Sun-god. Thus are empty, wild, and unsubstantiated hypotheses piled one on top of the other, like Pelion on Ossa. Not a scintilla of evidence is adduced for any one of them. First one is advanced, and its truth assumed. The next is propped on it, et sic ad infinitum. [Why make him the central figure of a monotheistic cult?] What, asks Professor Smith (Ecce Deus, p. 67), was the active principle of Christianity? What its germ? "The monotheistic impulse," he answers, "the instinct for unity that lies at the heart of all grand philosophy and all noble religion." Again, p. 45: "What was the essence of this originally secret Jesus cult, that was expressed in such guarded parabolic terms as made it unintelligible to the multitude?... It was a protest against idolatry; it was a Crusade for monotheism." [The earliest Christianity was no monotheistic propaganda] This is, no doubt, true of Christianity when we pass outside the Gospels. It is only not true of them, because on their every page Jewish monotheism is presupposed. Why are no warnings against polytheism put into the mouth of Jesus? Why is not a single precept of the Sermon on the Mount directed against idolatry? Surely because we are moving in a Jewish atmosphere in which such warnings were unnecessary. The horizon is purely Jewish, either of Jerusalem as we know it in the pages of Josephus or of certain Galilean circles in which even a knowledge of Greek seems not to have existed before the third century. The very proximity of Greek cities there seems to have confirmed the Jewish peasant of that region in his preference of Aramaic idiom, just as the native of Bohemia to-day turns his back on you if you address him in the detested German tongue. [Robertson and Drews allow the Jesuists to have been mainly Jewish in cult and feeling] Messrs. Robertson and Drews concede that the original stock of Christianity was Jewish. Thus we read in Christianity and Mythology (p. 415) that the Lord's Prayer derives "from pre-Christian Jewish lore, and, like parts of the Sermon (on the Mount), from an actually current Jewish document." The same writer admits (p. 338) the existence of "Judaic sections of the early Church." When he talks (p. 337) of the tale of the anointing of Jesus in Matthew xxvi, 6-13, and parallel passages, being "in all probability a late addendum" to the "primitive gospel" of Bernhard Weiss's theory, "made after the movement had become pronouncedly Gentile," he presupposes that, to start with anyhow, the movement was mainly Jewish. He admits that in the first six paragraphs of the early Christian document entitled the Didaché we have a purely Jewish teaching document, "which the Jesuist sect adopted in the first or second century." He cannot furthermore contest the fact that the Jesuists "took over the Jewish Scriptures as their sacred book; that they inherited the Jewish passover and the Paschal lamb, which is still slain in Eastern churches; that the leaders of the secret sect in Jerusalem upheld the Jewish rite of circumcision against Paul." [23] All this is inconceivable if the society was not in the main and originally one of Hebrews. When he goes on to argue that the Gospels are the manifesto of a cult of an old Sun-god Joshua, son of a mythic Miriam, he at least admits that the early "Christists" selected from ancient Jewish superstition, and not from pagan myth, the central figure of their cult, and that they chose for their deity a successor and satellite of Moses with a Hebrew lady for his mother. We may take it for granted, then, that the parent society out of which the Christian Church arose was profoundly and radically Jewish; and Mr. Robertson frankly admits as much when he affirms that "it was a Judaic cult that preached circumcision," and that "its apostles with whom Paul was in contact were of a Judaizing description." Here is common ground between myself and him. [If so, how could they devote themselves to pagan mystery plays?] What I want to know is how it came about that a society of which Jerusalem was the focus, and of which the nucleus and propagandists were Jews and Judaizers, could have been given over to the cult of a solar god, and how they could celebrate mystery plays and dramas in honour of that god; how they can have manufactured that god into "a composite myth" (p. 336), and constructed in his honour a religious system that was "a patchwork of a hundred suggestions drawn from pagan art and ritual usage." For such, we are told (p. 305), was "the Christian system." [Robertson admits that Jews could never borrow from pagan rituals in that age] We are far better acquainted with Jewish belief and ritual during the period B.C. 400-A.D. 100 than we are with that of the pagans. The content of the Greek mysteries is an enigma to our best Hellenists; we know next to nothing of the inside of Mithraism; for the oriental cults of the late Roman republic and early empire we are lamentably deficient in writings that might exhibit to us the arcana of their worship and the texture of their beliefs. Not so with Judaism. Here we have the prophets, old and late; for the two centuries B.C. we have the apocrypha, including the Maccabean books; we have the so-called Books of Enoch, of Jubilees, of the Twelve Patriarchs, the Fourth Ezra, Baruch, Sirach, and many others. We have the voluminous works of Philo and Josephus for the first century of our era; we have the Babylonian and other Talmuds preserving to us a wealth of Jewish tradition and teaching of the first and second centuries. Here let Mr. Robertson speak. As regards the Lord's Prayer and the Sermon on the Mount, he insists (p. 415 foll.) that they were inspired by parallel passages in the Talmud and the Apocrypha, and he argues with perfect good sense for the priority of the Talmud in these words: "It is hardly necessary to remark here that the Talmudic parallels to any part of the Sermon on the Mount cannot conceivably have been borrowed from the Christian gospels; they would as soon have borrowed from the rituals of the pagans." [Yet affirms that Christists, indistinguishable from Jews, did so borrow wholesale] And yet he asks us to believe that a nucleus of Jews, hidden in Jerusalem, the heart of Judaism, a sect whose apostles were Judaizers and vehement defenders of circumcision--all this he admits--were, as late as the last half of the first century, maintaining among themselves in secret a highly eclectic pagan cult; that they evolved "a gospel myth from scenes in pagan art" (p. 327); that they took a sort of modern archæological interest in pagan art and sculpture, and derived thence most of their literary motifs; that the figure of Jesus is an alloy of Dionysus, Osiris, Adonis, Krishna, Æsculapius, and fifty other ancient gods and demigods, with the all-important "Sun-God-Saviour Joshua, son of Miriam"; that the story of Peter rests on "a pagan basis of myth" (p. 340); that Maria is the true and original form of the Hebrew Miriam, and is the same name as Myrrha and Moira (moira), etc., etc. [The central idea of a God Joshua a figment of Robertson's fancy] Such are the mutually destructive arguments on the strength of which we are to adopt his thesis of the unhistoricity of Jesus. His books, like those of Dr. Drews, are a welter of contradictory statements, unreconciled and irreconcilable. Nevertheless, they reiterate them in volume after volume, like orthodox Christians reiterating articles of faith and dogmas too sacred to be discussed. Who ever heard before them of a Jewish cult of a Sun-God-Saviour Joshua? Such a cult must have been long extinct when the book of Joshua was written. Who ever heard of this Sun-god having for his mother a Miriam, until Mr. Robertson discovered a late Persian gloss to the effect that Joshua, son of Nun, had a mother of the name? Even if this tradition were not so utterly worthless as it is, it would prove nothing about the Sun-god. On the basis of such gratuitous fancies we are asked to dismiss Jesus as a myth. [It does not even explain the birth legends of the Christians] It does not even help us to understand how the myths of the Virgin Birth arose. Since when, I would like to know, did we need such evidence against that legend? If I thought that the rebuttal of it depended on such evidence, I should be inclined to become a good Papist and embrace it. It is enough for me to have ascertained, by a comparison of texts and by a study of early Christian documents, that it is a late accretion on the traditions of Jesus of Nazareth. That is the real evidence, if any be wanted, against it. Mr. Robertson admits that the first two chapters of Luke which are supposed--perhaps wrongly--to embody this legend are "a late fabulous introduction." Again he writes (p. 189): "Only the late Third Gospel tells the story (of Luke i and ii); the narrative (of the Birth) in Matthew, added late as it was to the original composition, which obviously began at what is now the third chapter, has no hint of the taxing." [Evidence of the Protevangelion] This is good sense, and I am indebted to him for pointing out that so loosely was the myth compacted that in the Protevangelion (c. 17) the statement is that it was decreed "that all should be enrolled who were in Bethlehem of Judæa," not all Jews over the entire world. [Robertson assumes the antiquity of the legend merely to suit his theory] Surely all this implies that the legend of the miraculous birth was no part of the earliest tradition about Jesus. Nevertheless, it is so important for Mr. Robertson's thesis (that Jesus was a mythical personage) that he should from the first have had a mythical mother, that he insists on treating the whole of Christian tradition, early or late, as a solid block, and argues steadily that the Virgin Birth legend was an integral part of it from the beginning. Jesus was a myth; as such he must have had a myth for a mother. Now a virgin mother is half-way to being a mythical one. Therefore Mary was a virgin, and must from the beginning have been regarded as such by the "Christists." Such are the steps of his reasoning. [The "Christists" at once extravagantly pagan and extravagantly monotheist and Jewish] I have adduced in the preceding pages a selection of the mythological equations of Mr. Robertson and Dr. Drews in order that my readers may realize how faint a resemblance between stories justifies, in their minds, a derivation or borrowing of one from the other. Nor do they ever ask themselves how Jewish "Christists" were likely to come in contact with out-of-the-way legends of Bacchus or Dionysus, of Hermes, of old Pelasgic deities, of Cybele and Attis and Isis, Osiris and Horus, of Helena Dendrites, of Krishna, of Janus, of sundry ancient vegetation-gods (for they are up to the newest lights), of Apollonius of Tyana, of Æsculapius, of Herakles and Oceanus, of Saoshyant and other old Persian gods and heroes, of Buddha and his kith and kin, of the Eleusinian and other ancient mysteries. Prick them with a pin, and out gushes this lore in a copious flood; and every item of it is supposed to have filled the heads of the polymath authors of the Christian Gospels. Every syllable of these Gospels, every character in them, is symbolic of one or another of these gods and heroes. Hear, O Israel: "Christians borrowed myths of all kinds from Paganism" (Christianity and Mythology, p. xii). And we are pompously assured (p. xxii, op. cit.) that this new "mythic" system is, "in general, more 'positive,' more inductive, less à priori, more obedient to scientific canons, than that of the previous critics known to me [i.e., to Mr. Robertson] who have reached similar anti-traditional results. It substitutes an anthropological basis, in terms of the concrete phenomena of mythology, for a pseudo-philosophical presupposition." Heaven help the new science of anthropology! [A receipt for the concoction of a gospel] And what end, we may ask, had the "Jesuists" and "Christists" (to use Mr. Robertson's jargon) in view, when they dressed up all this tagrag and bobtail of pagan myth, art, and ritual, and disguised it under the form of a tale of Messianic Judaism? For that and nothing else is, on this theory, the basis and essence of the Gospels. Was it their aim to honour paganism or to honour Jewish monotheism, when they concocted a "Christ cult" which is "a synthesis of the two most popular pagan myth-motives, [24] with some Judaic elements as nucleus and some explicit ethical teaching superadded" (p. 34). We must perforce suppose that the Gospels were a covert tribute to the worth and value of Pagan mythology and religious dramas, to pagan art and statuary. If we adopt the mythico-symbolical method, they can have been nothing else. Its sponsors might surely condescend to explain the alchemy by which the ascertained rites and beliefs of early Christians were distilled from these antecedents. The effect and the cause are so entirely disparate, so devoid of any organic connection, that we would fain see the evolution worked out a little more clearly. At one end of it we have a hurly-burly of pagan myths, at the other an army of Christian apologists inveighing against everything pagan and martyred for doing so, all within a space of sixty or seventy years. I only hope the orthodox will be gratified to learn that their Scriptures are a thousandfold more wonderful and unique than they appeared to be when they were merely inspired by the Holy Spirit. For verbal inspiration is not, as regards its miraculous quality, in the same field with mythico-symbolism. Verily we have discovered a new literary genus, unexampled in the history of mankind. You rake together a thousand irrelevant thrums of mythology, picked up at random from every age, race, and clime; you get a "Christist" to throw them into a sack and shake them up; you open it, and out come the Gospels. In all the annals of the Bacon-Shakesperians we have seen nothing like it. CHAPTER III THE ARGUMENT FROM SILENCE [Multiplicity of documents converging on and involving an historical Jesus] I have remarked above that if the Gospel of Mark were an isolated writing, if we knew nothing of its fortunes, nothing of any society that accepted it as history; if, above all, we were without any independent documents that fitted in with it and mentioned the persons and events that crowd its pages, then it would be a possible hypothesis that it was like the Recognitions of Clement, a skilfully contrived romance. Such a hypothesis, I said, would indeed be improbable, yet not unthinkable or self-destructive. But as a matter of fact we have an extensive series of documents, independent of Mark, yet attesting by their undesigned coincidences its historicity--not, of course, in the sense that we must accept everything in it, but anyhow in the sense that it is largely founded on fact and is a record of real incident. Were it a mere romance of events that never happened, and of people who never lived, would it not be a first-class miracle that in another romance, concocted apart from it and in ignorance of its contents, the same outline of events met our gaze, the same personages, the same atmosphere, moral, intellectual, and religious, the same interests? If in a third and fourth writing the same phenomenon recurred, the marvel would be multiplied. Would any sane person doubt that there was a substratum of fact and real history underlying them all? It would be as if several tables in the gambling saloon of Monte Carlo threw up the same series of numbers--say, 8, 3, 11, 7, 33, 21--simultaneously and independently of one another. A few of the habitués--for Monte Carlo is a great centre of superstition--might take refuge in the opinion that the tables were bewitched; but most men would infer that there was human collusion and conspiracy to produce such a result, and that the croupiers of the several tables were in the plot. [Mark and Q the two earliest documents] Now Mark's Gospel does not stand alone. As I have pointed out in Myth, Magic, and Morals, Luke and Matthew hold in solution as it were a second document, called Q (Quelle), or the non-Marcan, which yields us a few incidents and a great many sayings and parables of Jesus. Now this second document, so utterly separate from and independent of Mark that it does not even allude to the crucifixion and death episodes, nevertheless has Jesus all through for its central figure. No doubt it ultimately came out of the same general medium as Mark; but that consideration does not much diminish the weight of its testimony. If I met two people a hundred yards apart both coming from St. Paul's Cathedral, and if they both assured me that they had just been listening to a sermon of Dr. Inge's, I should not credit them the less because they had been together in church. That both these documents--I mean Mark and the non-Marcan--were in circulation at a fairly early date is certain on many grounds. So great a scholar as Wellhausen, a scholar untrammelled by ties of orthodoxy, shows in his commentary that Mark, as it lies before us, must have been redacted before the fall of Jerusalem in A.D. 70; so vague are its forecasts of disasters that were to befall the holy city. In Luke, on the other hand, these forecasts are accommodated to the facts, as we should expect to be the case in an author who wrote after the blow had fallen. [The first and third Gospels constitute two more such documents] And another consideration arises here. Matthew and Luke wrote quite independently of one another--for they practically never join hands across Mark--and yet they both assume in their compilations that these two basal documents, Mark and the non-Marcan, are genuine narratives of real events. They allow themselves, indeed, according to the literary fashion of the age, to re-arrange, modify, and omit episodes in them; but their manner of handling and combining the two documents is in general inexplicable on the hypothesis that they considered them to be mere romances. They are too plainly in earnest, too eager to find in them material for the life of a master whom they revered. Luke in particular prefixes a personal letter to one Theophilus, explaining the purpose of his compilation. In it we find not a word about the transcribing of Osiris dramas. On the contrary, it will set in order for Theophilus a story in which he had already been instructed. It is clear that Theophilus had already been made acquainted with "the facts about Jesus," perhaps insufficiently, perhaps along lines which Luke deprecated. [Luke's prologue argues an indefinite number more of such documents] However this be, Luke desires to improve upon the information which Theophilus had so far acquired about Jesus. It is clear that written and unwritten traditions of Jesus were already disseminated among believers. The prologue is inexplicable otherwise, and it implies a whole series of witnesses to the historicity of Jesus prior to Luke himself, of whom, as I have said, we still have Mark and can reconstruct Q. Both Matthew (whoever he was) and Luke, then, are convinced of the historicity of Jesus, and regarded Mark and Q as historical sources. They exploit them, and they also try to fill up lacunas left in these basal documents, and in particular to supply their readers with some account of his birth and upbringing. Both supplements, of course, are largely fictitious, that of Matthew in particular; but they both testify to a fixed consciousness and belief among early Christians that the Messiah was a real historical person. Such an interest in the birth and upbringing of Jesus as Matthew and Luke reveal could never have been felt by sectaries who were well aware that he was not a real person, but a solar myth and first cousin of Osiris. Had he been known, even by a few believers and no more, to have been not a man but a composite myth, people would not have craved for details, even miraculous, about his birth and parentage and upbringing. Was it necessary to concoct human pedigrees for a solar myth, and to pretend that Jacob begat Joseph, and Joseph begat Jesus? The very idea is absurd. They wanted such details, and got them, just as did the worshippers of Plato, Alexander, Augustus, Apollonius, and other famous men. In connection with Osiris and Dionysus such details were never asked for and never supplied. [Implications of Luke's exordium] In the covering letter which forms a sort of exordium to his Gospel the following are the words in which Luke assures us that others before himself had planned histories of the life of Jesus:-- Forasmuch as many have taken in hand to draw up a narrative concerning those matters which have been fully established (or fulfilled) among us, even as they delivered them unto us which from the beginning were eye-witnesses and ministers of the word, it seemed good to me also, having traced out the course of all things accurately from the first, to write them unto thee in order, most excellent Theophilus; that thou mightest know the certainty concerning the things wherein thou wast instructed. This is not the tone of a man who trades in sun-myths. The passage has a thoroughly bona fide ring, and declares (1) that Theophilus had already been instructed in the Gospel narrative, but not so accurately as the writer could wish; (2) that several accounts of Jesus's life and teaching were in circulation; (3) that these accounts were based on the traditions of those who had seen Jesus and assisted in the diffusion of his Messianic and other teachings. The passage cannot be later than A.D. 100, and is probably as early as A.D. 80; many scholars put it earlier. In any case, it reveals a consciousness, stretching far back among believers, that Jesus had really lived and died. Moreover, it is from the pen of one who either had himself visited, with Paul, James the brother (or, according to the orthodox, the half-brother) of Jesus at Jerusalem (Acts xxi, 17), or--if not that--anyhow had in his possession and made copious use of a travel document written by the companion of Paul. [Luke probably used a document independent of Mark and Q] A study of Luke also suggests that he had a third narrative document of his own. Thus, without going outside the Synoptic Gospels, we have two, if not three, wholly independent accounts of the doings and sayings of Jesus, and an inferential certainty that they were not the only ones which then existed. In the earliest Christian writers, moreover, citations occur that cannot well be referred to the canonical Gospels, but which may very well have been taken from the other narratives which Luke assures us were in the possession of the earliest Church. These narratives, like all other wholly or partly independent documents, must have differed widely from one another in detail; for their authors probably handled the tradition as freely as Matthew and Luke handle Mark. [Messianic and apocalyptic character of these early documents] But the inspiring motive of them all was the belief that a human Messiah had founded, or rather begun, the community of believers in Palestine. That any of them were contemporary is improbable, for the simple reason that the eyes of believers were turned, not backward on the life of the herald, but forward to the Kingdom of God or kingdom of heaven on earth which he heralded. They all felt themselves to be living in the last days, and that the Kingdom was to surprise many of them during their lifetime. Nor among the earliest believers was this expectation confined to Jews alone; it extended equally to Gentile converts. Thus Paul, in his epistles to the Corinthians, labours to answer the pathetic query his converts had addressed to him--namely, why the kingdom to come so long delayed; why many of them had fallen sick and some had died, while yet it tarried. Men and women who breathed such an atmosphere of tense expectation, as a passage like this and as the Gospel parables reveal, could not be solicitous for annals of the past. Still less is the attitude revealed that of people nurtured on ritual dramas of an annually slain and annually resuscitated god; for in that case they only needed to wait for the manifestation they yearned for, until the following spring, when the god would rise afresh to secure salvation for his votaries. The tone of this passage of Paul, as of all the earliest Christian documents, shows that the mind's eye of the common believer, as had been the founder's, was dazzled with the apocalyptic splendours soon to be revealed, with the beatitudes shortly to be fulfilled in the faithful. They were as wayfarers walking in a dark night towards a light which is far off, yet, because of its brightness and of the lack of an interposed landscape to fix the perspective, seems close at hand. Many a Socialist workman, especially on the continent, cherishes a similar dream of a good time coming ere long for himself and his fellows. He has no sense of the difficulties which for many a weary year--perhaps for ever--will hinder the realization of his passionately desired ideal. It is better so, for we live by our enthusiasms, and are the better for having indulged in them; if the labourer had none, he would be a chilly, useless being. Happily the Socialist seldom reflects how commonplace he would probably find his ideal if it were suddenly realized around him. Such were the eschatological hopes and dreams rife in the circles among which the Synoptic Gospels and their constituent documents first saw the light; they are revealed on their every page, and, needless to say, are inexplicable on Mr. Robertson's hypothesis. Devoid of sympathy with his subject, incapable of seeing it against its true background, without tact or perspective, he has never felt or understood the difficulties which beset his central hypothesis. He therefore attempts no explanation of them. [Character of the Fourth Gospel] Of the Fourth Gospel I have already said whatever is strictly necessary in this connection. It hangs together with the Johannine epistles; and its writer certainly had the Gospel of Mark before him, for he derives many incidents from it, and often covertly controverts it. It seems to belong to the end of the first century, and was in the hands of Gnostic sects fairly early in the second--say about 128. When it was written, the Gnosis of the Hellenized Jews, and in especial of Philo, was invading the primitive community. The Messianic and human traits of Jesus, still so salient in Mark and Matthew, though less so in Luke, are receding into the background before the opinion that he had been the representation in flesh of the eternal Logos. All his conversations are re-written to suit the newer standpoint; the homely scenes and surroundings of Galilee are forgotten as much as can be, and Samaria and Jerusalem--a more resounding theatre--are substituted. The teaching in parables is dropped, and we hear no more of the exorcisms of devils. Such things were unedifying, and unworthy of so sublime a figure, as much in the mind of this evangelist as of the fastidious Professor W. B. Smith. Hence it may be said that the Fourth Gospel has made the fortune of the Catholic Church; without it Athanasius could never have triumphed, nor the Nicene Creed have been penned, nor Professor Smith's diatribes have attracted readers. [It is half-docetic] For in it Jesus is becoming unreal, a divine pedant masquerading in a vesture of flesh. When it was written, the Docetes, as they were called, were already beginning to dot the "i's" and cross the "t's" of the teachers who sublimated Jesus into the Philonian Logos; and, as I said above, it is against them, no doubt, that the caveat--so necessary in the context--is entered that in Jesus the Word was made flesh. Similarly, in the Johannine epistles certain teachers are denounced who declared that Jesus Christ had not come in the flesh, and taught that his flesh was only a blind. [Ignatius's account of Docetism] We have a fairly full account of these docetic teachers in the Epistles of Ignatius, which cannot be much later than A.D. 120. From these we gather that they adopted the ordinary tradition about Jesus, and believed that he had been born, and eaten and drunk, had walked about with his disciples, had delivered his teaching by word of mouth, had been crucified by Pontius Pilate, had died, and been buried. But all these operations had been unreal and subjective in the minds of those who were present at them, as are things we see in a dream. They had taken place to the eye and ear of bystanders, but not in reality. The partizans, therefore, of the view that Jesus never lived deceive themselves when they appeal to the Docetes as witnesses on their side. The Docetes lend no colour to their thesis of the non-historicity of Jesus, but just the opposite. Drews writes (p. 57) that [Drews misunderstands Gnosticism] the Gnostics of the second century really questioned the historical existence of Jesus by their docetic conception; in other words, they believed only in a metaphysical and ideal, not an historical and real, Christ. The whole polemic of the Christians against the Gnostics was based essentially on the fact that the Gnostics denied the historicity of Jesus, or at least put it in a subordinate position. This is nonsense. The Docetes admitted to the full that the Messiah had appeared on earth; but, partly to meet the Jewish objections to a crucified Messiah, and partly inspired by that contempt for matter which was and is common in the East, and has been the inspiring motive of much vain asceticism, they shrank from believing that he shared with ordinary men their flesh and blood, their secretions and evacuations. Matter was too evil for a Messiah, much more for the heavenly Logos, to have been encased in it, and so subjected to its dominion; to ascribe real flesh to him was to humble him before the evil Demiurge, who created matter. [Docetes accepted current Christian tradition] The Docetes accordingly took refuge in the idea that his body was a phantom, and that in phantom form he had undergone all that was related of him in Christian tradition; to which their views bear testimony, instead of contradicting it, as Dr. Drews and his friends pretend. "If these things," writes Ignatius, "were done by our Lord in Semblance, then am I also a prisoner in semblance." This means that--mutatis mutandis--the arguments of the Docetes would turn Ignatius too, chains and all, into a phantom. Again and again this writer affirms that the Docetes believed quite correctly that Jesus was born of a virgin and baptized by John, was nailed up for our sakes under Pontius Pilate and Herod the Tetrarch, that he suffered, died, and raised himself up out of the grave. They only would not believe that he underwent and performed all this truly--that is, objectively. They insisted that the Saviour had only been among men as a phantom, in the same manner as Helen had gone through the siege of Troy as a mere phantom. She was not really there, though Greeks and Trojans saw and met her daily. She was all the time enjoying herself amid the asphodel meadows of the Nile. Even so the disciples, according to the Docetes, had heard and seen Jesus all through his ministry; yet the body they saw was phantasmal only. The Docetes also argued--so we can infer from Ignatius's Epistle to the Church of Smyrna--that, as Jesus ate and drank after the resurrection in phantom guise, so he had eaten and drunk before his death in no other than phantom guise. The answer of Ignatius to this is: "I know and believe that he was in the flesh even after the resurrection"; and he forthwith relates how the risen Jesus approached Peter and his company, who thought they were in the presence of a phantom or ghost, and said to them: "Lay hold and handle me, and see that I am not a demon without a body." Everything, then, that we read about the Docetes shows that on all points, in respect of the miraculous incidents of Jesus's life no less than of the natural, they blindly accepted the record of evangelical tradition. Their heresy was not to deny what the tradition related, but to interpret it wrongly. [Docetism in Philo,] Philo had long before set the example of such an interpretation, when in his commentaries, which were widely read by Christians in the second century, he asserted that the angels who appeared to Abraham at the oak of Mambre, and ate and drank with him, only ate and drank in semblance, and not in reality. They laid a spell on the eyes of Abraham, and of the other guests at the banquet. [and in Tobit] So in the Book of Tobit xii, 19, the angel says: "All these days did I appear unto you; and I did neither eat nor drink, but it was a vision ye yourselves saw." In the same way, Jesus laid a spell on the eyes of his followers, in the belief of this very early sect of Christian believers. [Professor Smith and Hippolytus] Professor W. B. Smith, like his two companions, writes as if Docetism were an asset in favour of his thesis that Christianity began as the cult of a slain God, and that "the humanization of this divinity proceeds apace as we descend the stream of tradition." Yet the Docetic doctrine, as given in the report of Hippolytus, and adduced by Mr. Smith himself (p. 88), exactly bears out the estimate of its import with which one rises from a study of the Ignatian Epistles. It is from Hippolytus's Refutation of Heresies, viii, 10, and runs thus:-- Having come from above, he (Jesus) put on the begotten (body), and did all things just as has been written in the Gospels; he washed himself in Jordan, etc. Hippolytus was in contact with Docetes, and familiar with their writings and arguments. What better proof could we have than this citation of the fact that they servilely adopted the traditions of Jesus recorded in the Gospels? They were not supplying an answer to imaginary Jews who had objected to Christianity on the score that Jesus had never lived. Their speciality was to interpret the Gospel record, which they did not dream of disputing, along phantasmagoric lines. There was still left in the Church enough common sense and historic insight to brush their interpretation on one side as nonsensical. [Drews misunderstands Justin Martyr] Drews once more has conjured up out of Justin Martyr a Jew of the second century who denied the human existence of Jesus. The relevant passage is at p. 16 of his Witnesses to the Historicity of Jesus, and runs as follows:-- It is not true, however, as has recently been stated, that no Jew ever questioned the historical reality of Jesus, so that we may see in this some evidence for his existence. The Jew Trypho, whom Justin introduces in his Dialogue with Trypho, expresses himself very sceptically about it. "Ye follow an empty rumour," he says, "and make a Christ for yourselves." "If he was born and lived somewhere, he is entirely unknown" (viii, 3). This work appeared in the second half of the second century; it is therefore the first indication of a denial of the human existence of Jesus, and shows that such opinions were current at the time. Professor Drews has, I regret to say, failed to read his text intelligently. So I will transcribe the passage of Justin in full, premising that it was more probably written in the first than in the second half of the second century. The dialogue is between a Jew and an ex-Platonist who has turned Christian, and the Jew says with an ironical smile to the Christian:-- The rest of your arguments I admit, and I admire your religious enthusiasm. Nevertheless, you would have done better to stick to Plato's or any other sage's philosophy, practising the virtues of endurance and continence and temperance, rather than let yourself be ensnared by false arguments and follow utterly worthless men. For if you had remained loyal to that form of philosophy and lived a blameless life, there was left a hope of your rising to something better. But as it is you have abandoned God and put your trust in man, so what further hope is left to you of salvation? If, then, you are willing to take advice from myself--for I already have come to regard you as a friend--begin first by circumcising yourself, and next keep in the legal fashion the sabbath and the festivals and the new moons of God, and in a word fulfil all the commandments written in the Law, and then perhaps you will attain unto God's mercy. But Messiah (or Christ), even supposing he has come into being and exists somewhere or other, is unrecognized, and can neither know himself as such nor possess any might, until Elias having come shall anoint him and make him manifest unto all. But you (Christians), having lent ear to a vain report, feign a sort of Messiah unto yourselves, and for his sake are now rashly going to perdition. There is a parallel passage in the Dialogue, c. cx, where the Christian interlocutor, after reciting the prophecy of Micah, iv, 1-7, adds these words:-- I am quite aware, gentlemen, that your rabbis admit all the words of the above passage to have been uttered about, and to refer to the Messiah; and I also know that they deny him so far to have come, or, if they say he has come, then that it is not yet known who he is. However, when he is manifested and in glory, then, they say, it will be known who he is. And then, so they say, the things foreshadowed in the above passage will come to pass. [The Jews in Justin testify to Jesus's historicity] The sense, then, of the passage adduced by Drews is perfectly clear, and exactly the opposite of that which he puts upon it. The Christ or Messiah referred to by the Jew is not that man of Nazareth in whom the Christians had falsely recognized the signs of Messiahship. No, he is, on the contrary, the Messiah expected by the Jews; but the latter has not so far come; or, if he has come, still lurks in some corner unrecognized until such time as Elias, to whom the rôle appertains, shall appear again and proclaim him. There is not a word of Jesus of Nazareth not having come, or of his being still unrecognized. The gravamen of the Jew is that the ex-Platonist had been chicaned by Christians into believing that the Messiah had already come in the person of Jesus, and had been recognized in him. The passage, therefore, has exactly the opposite bearing to what Drews imagines. [Second century Jews did not detest mere shadows] There is, too, another very significant point to be made in this connection. It is this, that the Jews of that age would not have borne the bitter grudge they did against the Christians if the latter had merely devoted themselves to the cult of a mythical personage, a Sun-God-Saviour, who never existed at all. They were quite well capable of ridiculing myths of such a kind, as the story of Bel and the Dragon shows. Jesus, however, was a real memory to them, and one which they detested. Their hatred for him was that which you bear for a man who has upset your religion and trampled on your prejudices--the sort of hatred that Catholics have for the memory of Luther and Calvin; it was not in any way akin to their mockery of idols, their disgust for the demons that inhabited them, their abhorrence of their votaries. It was hatred of a religious antagonist, odium theologicum of the purest kind, and hatred like that with which the Ebionites for generations hated the memory of Paul. Jesus had violated and set at naught the law of Moses. A solar myth could not do that. To this hatred of the Jews for the memory of Jesus, and to the early date at which it showed itself, Dr. Drews himself bears witness when, on p. 12 of the work cited, he writes as follows:-- There is no room for doubt that after the destruction of Jerusalem, and especially during the first quarter of the second century, the hostility of the Jews and Christians increased; indeed, by the year 130 the hatred of the Jews for the Christians became so fierce that a rabbi whose niece had been bitten by a serpent preferred to let her die rather than see her healed "in the name of Jesus." [Chwolson on early Rabbis] Chwolson argues from this and similar episodes that the Rabbis of the second half of the first century, or the beginning of the second, were well acquainted with the person of Christ. "Here," says Drews, "he clearly deceives himself and his readers if the impression is given that they had any personal knowledge of him." The self-deception is surely on the part of Dr. Drews. Chwolson does not imply that any Rabbis of the years 50-100 had a personal knowledge of Jesus, in the sense of having seen him or conversed with him; for he is not given to writing nonsense. He does, however, imply that they knew of him as a real man who had lived and done them a power of evil. If they had only known him as a solar myth, their hostility to his followers, admitted by Drews, would be inexplicable; equally inexplicable if, as Dr. W. B. Smith contends, he had been a merely heavenly power, a divine Logos or God, incidentally the object of a monotheist cult. In that case the Jews would rather have been inclined to fall on the neck of the Christians and welcome them; and their cult would have been no more offensive to them than the theosophy of Philo the Jew, from which it would have been hardly distinguishable. Justin Martyr furthermore makes statements on this point which perfectly agree with the story of the hostile Rabbi adduced by Drews. [In the Jewish synagogues Jesus was regularly execrated] Not in one, but in half-a-dozen, passages he testifies that in his day the Jews in all their synagogues, at the conclusion of their prayers, cursed the memory of Jesus, execrated his name and personality (for name meaned personality in that age), and poured ridicule on the soi-disant Messiah that had been crucified by the Romans. "Even to this day," Justin exclaims (ch. xciii), "you persevere in your wickedness, imprecating curses on us because we can prove that he whom you crucified is Messiah." He records (ch. cviii) "that the Jews chose and appointed emissaries whom they sent forth all over the world to proclaim that a godless heresy and unlawful had been vamped up by a certain Jesus, a charlatan of Galilee. They were to warn their compatriots that the disciples had stolen him out of the tomb in which, after being unnailed from the cross, he had been laid, and then pretended that he had been raised from the dead and ascended into heaven." [Eusebius's evidence on this point] At first sight the above is a mere réchauffé of Matt. xxviii, 13; but Eusebius, who had in his hands much first- and second-century literature of the Christians and Hellenized Jews that we have not, attests a similar tradition, and declares that he found it in the publications of the ancients. [25] The priests and elders of the Jewish race who lived in Jerusalem wrote epistles and sent them broadcast to the Jews everywhere among the Gentiles, calumniating the teaching of Christ as a brand-new heresy and alien to God; and they warned them by letters not to receive it. And their apostles took their epistles, written on papyrus ... and ran up and down the earth, maligning our account of the Saviour.... It is still the custom of the Jews to give the name of Apostles to those who carry encyclical letters from their rulers. Note that Eusebius does not weave in the story of the disciples stealing their Master's body from out of the tomb. From his omission of it, and from the dissimilarity of his language, we can infer that the "publications of the ancients" from which he derived his information were not the works of Justin, but an independent source, which may also have been in Justin's hands. In any case, the Jews were not given to tilting at windmills; their secular and bitter hatred of the very name of Jesus, the relentless war waged with pen and sword from the first between the Christians and themselves--all this is attested by the earliest writings of the Church. It already colours Luke's Gospel, and is a leading inspiration of the Johannine. It alone is all-sufficient to dissipate the hypotheses of these twentieth-century fabulists. [Evidence of Acts] Let us turn to the Acts of the Apostles, the only book of the New Testament which contains a history of the Apostolic age. In the last half of this book is embedded, as even Van Manen admitted, a travel document or narrative of voyage undertaken by its author in common with Paul. Whether or no the fellow-traveller was the compiler of the Third Gospel and of Acts is not certain; but he was assuredly a man named Luke. It does not matter. "It is not," writes Dr. Drews (Christ Myth, p. 19), the imagined historical Jesus, but, if anyone, Paul, who is that "great personality" that called Christianity into life as a new religion; and the depth of his moral experience gave it the strength for its journey, the strength which bestowed upon it victory over the other competing religions. Without Jesus the rise of Christianity can be quite well understood; without Paul, not so. [Van Manen on Acts and Paul] We infer from the above that, on the whole, Drews accepts the narrative of Paul's sayings and doings as given in Acts, and does not consider it a mere record of the feats a solar hero performed, not on earth, but in heaven. We gather also that Mr. Robertson takes the same indulgent view of Acts, for he frequently impugns the age of the Pauline epistles and the evidence they contain on the strength of "Van Manen's thesis of the non-genuineness" of them. "In point of fact," he writes (p. 453), "Van Manen's whole case is an argument; Dr. Carpenter's is a simple declaration." But Van Manen never for a moment questioned the historical reality of Jesus. What he insisted upon is [26] that there is no word, nor any trace, of any essential difference as regards faith and life between Paul and other disciples.... He is a "disciple" among the "disciples." What he preaches is substantially nothing else than what their mind and heart are full of--the things concerning Jesus. Van Manen, however, allows that Paul's journeyings, his protracted sojourn outside of Palestine, his intercourse in foreign parts with converted Jews and former heathen, may have emancipated him (as it did so many other Jews of the Dispersion) without his knowing it, more or less--perhaps in essence completely--from circumcision and other Jewish religious duties, customs, and rites. Concerning Paul the same writer says (op. cit., art, "Paul") that Acts gives us a variety of narratives concerning him, differing in their dates, and also in respect of the influences under which they were written.... With regard to Paul's journeys, we can in strictness speak with reasonable certainty and with some detail only of one great journey, which he undertook towards the end of his life. (Acts xvi, 10-17; xx, 5-15; xxi, 1-18; xxvii, 1-xxviii, 16.) [Evidence of the we sections of Acts] It is upon Acts, then, that Van Manen bases his estimate, which we just now cited, of Paul's relations with the other disciples. He refuses, and rightly, "to assume that Acts must take a subordinate place in comparison with the principal epistles of Paul." In effect, his assault on the Pauline Epistles rests on the assumption that the record of Paul's activity presented in Acts is the more trustworthy wherever it appears to conflict with the Pauline Epistles, and in particular with Galatians. In accepting Van Manen's conclusion, Mr. Robertson implicitly accepts his premises, one of which is the superior reliability of Acts in general, and in particular of the four sections enumerated above, and characterized by the use of the word "we." For the moment, therefore, let us confine ourselves to the ninety-seven verses of these "we" sections, which are obviously from the pen of a fellow-traveller of Paul. We find it recorded in them that Paul was moved by a vision to go and preach the Gospel [27] in Macedonia; that at Philippi a certain woman named Lydia, who already worshipped God--i.e., was a heathen converted to Jewish monotheism--had opened her heart in consequence to give heed to the things spoken by Paul. We infer that Paul's Gospel supplemented in some way her monotheism. She and her household became something more than mere worshippers of God, and were baptized. We learn that Paul and his companion reckoned time by the Jewish feasts and fasts--e.g., by the days of unleavened bread--but at the same time were in the habit of meeting together with the rest of the faithful on the first day of the week, in order to break bread and discourse about the faith. At Tyre, as at Troas, they found "disciples" who, like Paul, arranged future events, or were warned of them through the Spirit. At Cæsarea, of Palestine, they stayed with Philip the evangelist, who was one of the seven, and had four daughters--virgins who did prophesy. They also met there a certain prophet Agabus, who was a mouthpiece of the Holy Ghost, and as such foretold that the Jews at Jerusalem, of whose plots against Paul we elsewhere hear in these sections, would deliver him into the hands of the Gentiles. Paul, in his turn, declares his readiness to be bound and die at Jerusalem for the name of the Lord Jesus. they stay with an early disciple from Cyprus, Mnason, and, on reaching Jerusalem, the brethren received them gladly. And the day following Paul went in with us unto James; and all the elders (of the Church) were present. Paul relates to them the facts of his ministry among the Gentiles. In the course of the final voyage to Rome, when all the crew have despaired of their lives, because of the violence of the storm and of the ship leaking, Paul comes to the rescue, and informs them that the angel of the God whom he served, and whose he was, had stood by him in the night, saying: "Fear not, Paul; thou must stand before Cæsar." He therefore could not perish by shipwreck, nor they either. In Melita the trivial circumstance that the bite of a viper, promptly shaken off by him into the fire, did not cause Paul to swell up (i.e., his hand to be inflamed), or die, caused the barbarians to acclaim him as a god; and in the sequel the sick in the island flock to him, and are healed. At Puteoli Paul and his companion find brethren, as they had found them at Jerusalem and elsewhere; and presently they enter Rome. In these sections, then, we have glimpses of a brotherhood disseminated all about the Mediterranean whose members were Monotheists of the Jewish type, but something besides, in so far as they accepted a gospel which Paul also preached, about a Lord Jesus Christ; these brethren solemnly broke bread on the first day of the week. In these sections we breathe the same atmosphere of personal visions, of angels, of prophecy, of direct inspiration of individuals by the Holy Ghost, of the cult of virginity, which we breathe in the rest of Acts and throughout the Pauline Epistles. [Philip one of the seven] We meet also with a Philip, an evangelist, and one of the seven. Who were the seven? We turn to an earlier chapter of Acts, [28] and read that in the earliest days of the religion at Jerusalem, in order to satisfy the claims of the widows of Greek Jews who were neglected in the daily ministration, the twelve apostles had called together the multitude of the faithful, and chosen seven men of good report, full of the Spirit and of wisdom to serve the tables, because they, the Twelve, were too busy preaching the word to attend to the catering of the new Messianic society. The first on the list of these seven deacons was Stephen, the second Philip. When, therefore, in the later passage the fellow-traveller of Paul refers to Philip as one of the seven, he assumes that we know who the seven were; and he can only expect us to know it because we have read the earlier chapter which narrates their appointment. The fellow-traveller of Paul, therefore, was aware of the appointment of the seven deacons, and testifies thereto. Here we have irrefragable evidence of the historicity of verses 1-6 of chapter vi of Acts, and at the same time a strong presumption that the fellow-traveller of Paul was himself the redactor, if not the author, of the earlier chapters (i-xv) of Acts, as he is obviously of the last half (ch. xvi to end); for that last half coheres inseparably with the contiguous we sections. [Literary unity of Acts] Have we, then, any way of testing this presumption that the fellow-traveller who penned these we sections also penned the rest of Acts? We have, though it is one which can only appeal to trained philologists, and I doubt if Messrs. Drews and Robertson are likely to give to such an argument its due weight. The linguistic evidence of the we sections has been sifted and tested by Sir John Hawkins in his Horæ Synopticæ. The statistic of words and phrases cannot lie. It proves that the writer of Acts, and consequently of the Third Gospel, "was from time to time a companion of Paul in his travels, and that he simply and naturally wrote in the first person when narrating events at which he had been present." This is the best hypothesis which a study of the language of Acts and of the Third Gospel permits us to accept. I do not say it is the only possible one, and I expect Mr. Robertson and his pupil, Dr. Drews, to reject it with scorn, for their philology is of the sort which recognizes in Maria the same name as Moira and Myrrha. The only other explanations of the presence of we in these sections are, either that a compiler who used the diary of the fellow-traveller left it standing in the document when he embodied it in his narrative, through carelessness and by accident, or else that he left it of set design, and because he wished his readers to identify him with the older reporter, and so to pass for a companion of Paul. The first of these explanations is very improbable; the second not only much too subtle, but out of keeping with the babbling, but credulous, honesty which everywhere shows itself in Acts. [Van Manen's system of dating Luke and Acts would postpone all ancient literature to the Middle Ages] It is true that Van Manen assumes a priori, and without a shadow of proof, that Luke and Acts were written as late as the period 125-150. His only argument is that Marcion already had the former in his hands as early as 140; and he is prone to make the childish assumption that the date of composition of any book in the New Testament is exactly that of its earliest ascertainable use by a later author. Such a mode of reasoning is utterly false and uncritical, and would, if applied in other fields, prove that the great mass of ancient literature was not ancient at all, but composed in the tenth or later centuries to which our earliest MSS. belong; for we have no citations either in contemporary or in nearly contemporary writers of nine-tenths of the whole volume of the old Greek and Latin literatures. Most of it, if we applied Van Manen's canons of evidence (which, of course, are accepted and improved upon by the three writers I am criticizing), would turn out to have been written as late as the renaissance of European learning. It is a fallacious test, and Van Manen would have shrunk from the paradox of enforcing it in regard to any other literature than the New Testament. It would appear as if the orthodox traditionalists, by insisting that the Bible must not be judged and criticized like other books, have prejudiced not merely their own cause--that would not matter--but the cause of sober history. They have invested it with such an atmosphere of mystery and falsetto, with what I may call a Sunday-school atmosphere, that a certain class of inquirers rush to an opposite extreme, and insist on canons of evidence and authenticity which would, if consistently used, eliminate all ancient literature and history. One form of error provokes the other. [Ephrem's commentary on Acts] We have examined for their evidence as regards the Early Church those sections which directly evidence the hand of a companion of Paul, who was probably Luke the physician, seeing that tradition was unanimous in ascribing the Third Gospel and Acts to him. Some scholars have observed that the old Syriac version cited by Ephrem the Syrian in his commentary [29] on Acts read in Acts xx, 13, as follows: "But I, Lucas, and those with me, going before to the ship, set sail for Assos," where the conventional text reads: "But we, going before." The pronoun we in this passage cannot include, as it usually does, Paul, who had taken another route and had left directions that they should call for him; this may have led Ephrem to substitute the paraphrase I, Lucas, and those with me. Anyhow, without further evidence, we can hardly use Ephrem's citation as a proof of the Lucan authorship of Acts. [Evidence of those parts of Acts which cohere with the we sections] But we must anyhow consider the evidence as to Paul's beliefs which is to be gathered from the sections of Acts which immediately cohere with the travel document, and which clearly depended for their information on a source closely allied to them and of the same age and provenance. Firstly, then, it is noticeable that all this last part of Acts is relatively free from the fabulous details which mar the earlier part descriptive of the exploits of Peter. Next we note that Paul, on entering a city, goes straight to the Jewish Synagogue, and that the gospel with which he undertakes to supplement their monotheism consisted not of tidings about an ancient Palestinian Sun-god named Joshua, or Dionysus or Krishna, or Osiris, or Æsculapius, or Mithras, nor about a vegetation or harvest demon of any kind, nor about any of the other members of the Christian pandemonium invented by Mr. Robertson and adopted by Dr. Drews. No; on the contrary, at Thessalonica Paul spent three sabbaths trying to convince the Jews in their synagogue that Jesus must have been the Jewish Messiah promised in the Jewish scriptures, because in accordance with prophecy he had suffered and risen from the dead. That he taught them, further, that Jesus, qua Christ or Messiah, was also the Jewish king whose advent they looked for, is obvious from the fact that he was accused on this occasion, as on others, of teaching, "contrary to the decrees of Cæsar, that there was another king, one Jesus." At Corinth Paul found he was wasting time in trying to persuade the Jews that Jesus was the Messiah whose advent they expected; and he declared to them that thenceforth he would devote himself to spreading his good news among the Gentiles. None the less he persisted, wherever he afterwards went, in going first to the synagogue, so as to give his compatriots a prior chance of accepting his spiritual wares, according to the principle enunciated in his epistles, that the promises were for the Jews first and only after them for the Gentiles. In Acts xxv, 19, Festus lays before King Agrippa the case against Paul as he had learned it from the Jewish priests and elders at Jerusalem. It amounted to this, that Paul affirmed that "one Jesus, who was dead, was really alive." We learn in an earlier passage that Paul was a Jew of Tarsus, an adherent of the Pharisaic sect which believed in a general resurrection of good Jews, that nevertheless he had persecuted the adherents of Jesus of Nazareth and connived at the murder of Stephen. He has some difficulty in convincing the Roman governor of Judæa that he is not a leader of the Jewish sicarii, or sect of assassins, who were ever anxious to range themselves on the side of any Messiah ready to show fight against the Roman Legions. The impression made on Festus, the Roman Governor, by Paul's prophetic arguments about a Messiah who had suffered and then risen from the dead was (Acts xxvi, 24) that "much learning had made him mad." We can discern all through this last half of Acts that attitude of Paul to Jesus which confronts us in his epistles. Nothing interests him except his death on the cross and his resurrection. Of the rest of his career we learn nothing. In one passage, ch. xiii, 26 foll., we have a slightly more detailed account of the staple of Paul's teaching, as delivered to the Jews when he encountered them in their synagogues. He informed them of how "they that dwell in Jerusalem and their rulers" had condemned Jesus; "though they found no cause of death in him, yet asked they of Pilate that he should be slain." They afterwards "took him down from the tree and laid him in a tomb. But God raised him from the dead: and he was seen for many days of them that came up with him from Galilee to Jerusalem, who are now his witnesses unto the people." There is not much of a vegetation-god story about the above concise narrative, which, however, is strikingly independent of the Gospel legends concerning the burial and resurrection of Jesus; for, according to them, it was the friends and adherents of Jesus, and not the rulers, who condemned him, that were careful to bury him; and his post-resurrectional appearances are here confined to his Galilean followers, who, by virtue of their longer association and intimacy with him, would be more likely than others to see him after death in dreams and visions. [Six independent and early documents involve a real Jesus] I have now reviewed the historical books of the New Testament. We have in them at least six monuments--to wit, Mark, the non-Marcan document, the parts of the First and Third Gospels peculiar to their authors, the Fourth Gospel, and the history of Paul and his mission given in chapters xiii to xxviii of Acts. Perhaps I ought to add the first twelve chapters of Acts, of which the information, according to Van Manen, was derived from an early and lost document, the Acts of Peter. That would make seven monuments. Unless all philological analysis is false, the Third Gospel and Acts are from the pen of a companion of Paul, and cannot be set later than about 90 A.D. Mark, which he used, must be indefinitely earlier, and I have pointed out that there are good reasons for setting its date before the year 70. The non-Marcan document, which critics have agreed to call Q (Quelle), cannot be later than Mark, and is probably much earlier, judging from the fact that it as yet reported no miracles of Jesus, nor hints of his death and resurrection. Now all these documents are independent of one another in style and contents, yet they all have a common interest--namely, the memory of a historical man Jesus; and such data as they isolatedly afford about Jesus agree on the whole as closely as any profane documents ever agreed which, being written independently and from very different standpoints, yet refer to one and the same person. If we see a number of convergent rays of light streaming down under clouds across a widely extended landscape, we infer a central sun behind the clouds by which they are all emitted. Similarly, we have here several traditions and documents which converge on a single man, and are all and severally meaningless, and their genesis impossible of explanation unless we assume that he lived. It is sufficiently incredible that one tradition should (to take the hypothesis of non-historicity in its most rational form--that, namely, of Professor W. B. Smith) allegorize the myth of a Saviour God as the career of a man, and that man a Galilean teacher, in whose humanity the Church believed from the first. That six or seven parallel traditions should all have hit on the same form of deception and allegory is, as I said before, as incredible as that several roulette tables at Monte Carlo should independently and at one and the same time throw up an identical series of numbers. Credat Judæus Apella, These writers who develop the thesis of the non-historicity of Jesus because miracles came to be attributed to him--how could they not in that age and social medium?--ask us to believe in a miracle which far outweighs any which any religionists ever reported of their founder; they themselves have fallen into fathomless depths of credulity. CHAPTER IV THE EPISTLES OF PAUL [Mr. Robertson's vital interpolations] Now let us turn to the Epistles of Paul, a person whom these writers, as we have seen above, admit to have lived, and to have played no small part in the establishment of Christianity. In using these Epistles, they all three make a reservation to the effect that any evidence which they may supply in favour of the historicity of Jesus, and which cannot be explained away, shall be regarded as an interpolation; and as it is something that slays his hypothesis, Mr. Robertson has taught us to call such evidence "vital interpolation." It must die in order that his hypothesis may live. They also claim, ab initio, to deny Pauline authorship to any epistles that may turn out to be a stumbling-block in the way of their theories, and lean to the view of Van Manen and others, who held that the entire mass of the Pauline letters are the "work of a whole school of second-century theologians"--in other words, forgeries of the period 130-140. [Defying textual evidence he relegates the Paulines to second century] They would, of course, set them later than that, only it is overwhelmingly certain that Marcion made about that time a collection of ten of them, which he expurgated to suit his views, and arranged in order, with Galatians first; this collection he called the Apostolicon. It runs somewhat counter to this view that, twenty years earlier, we already have a reference to these Epistles in Ignatius, who, with an exaggeration hardly excused by the fact that he is addressing members of the Ephesian Church, informs us that the Ephesians are mentioned "in every letter" by Paul. Those who desire ample proof that Ignatius was well acquainted with Paul's Epistles cannot do better than refer to a work, drawn up and published in 1905 by members of the Oxford Society of Historical Theology, entitled The New Testament in the Apostolic Fathers. In this the New Testament originals and the citations are arranged in parallel columns in the order of their convincingness. [Professor Smith's kindred thesis offends the facts] At a still earlier date--say A.D. 95--Clement of Rome cites the Paulines. As Professor W. B. Smith makes Herculean efforts to show that he did not, I venture to set before my readers a passage--chap. xxxv, 5, 6 of his Epistle face to face with Romans i, 29-32--so that they may judge for themselves. I print identical words in leaded type:-- 1 Clement. Romans. aporripsantes aph' heautôn pasan peplêrômenous pasê adikia, ponêria, adikian kai anomian, pleonexian, pleonexia, kakia, mestous, phthonou, ereis, kakoêtheias te kai dolous phonou, eridos, dolou, kakoêtheias, psithyrismous te kai katalalias, psithyristas, katalalous, theostygian, hyperêphanian te theostygeis, hybristas, kai alazoneian, kenedoxian te hyperêphanous, alazonas, epheuretas kai aphiloxenian. kakôn, goneusin apeitheis, asynetous, asynthetous, astorgous, tauta gar hoi prassontes aneleêmonas, hoitines to dikaiôma stygêtoi tô theô hyparchousin; tou theou epignontes, hoti ta ou monon de hoi prassontes auta, toiauta prassontes axioi thanatou alla kai hoi syneudokountes eisin, ou monon auta poiousin, alla autois. kai syneudokousi tois prassousi. The dependence of Clement's Epistle on that of Paul's Letter to the Romans is equally visible if the English renderings of them be compared, as follows:-- [Translation.] Clement xxxv, 5, 6. Romans i, 29-32. Casting away from ourselves all Being filled with all unrighteousness and unrighteousness, wickedness, lawlessness, covetousness, covetousness, maliciousness; full of strife, malignity, and deceit; envy, murder, strife, deceit, whisperings and backbitings, malignity; whisperers, backbiters, hatred of God, haughtiness and hateful to God, insolent, haughty, boastfulness, vainglory and boastful, inventors of evil things, inhospitableness. disobedient to parents, without understanding, covenant-breakers, For they that practise these without natural affection, things are hateful to God. And unmerciful: who, knowing the not only they which practise ordinance of God, that they which them, but also they who consent practise such things are worthy of with them. death, not only do the same, but also consent with them that practise them. Some of the sources of Paul approximate in text still more to Clement--e.g., the reading ponêria "wickedness" is not certain. In some, "malignity" precedes "deceit." In some, "and" is added before the words "not only." In the above parallel passages the agreement both in kind and sequence of the lists of vices is too close to be accidental; and this is clinched by the identity of sense and form of the clauses which follow the two lists. Nor is this the only example of the influence of the Paulines on Clement. We give one more, giving the English only:-- Paul (1 Cor. i, 11-13). Clement xlvii, 1. For it hath been signified unto me Take ye up the epistle of the concerning you, my brethren, by blessed Paul, the Apostle, what those of Chloe, that there are did he write first to you in the contentions among you. Now this I beginning of the good tidings. In mean, that each one of you saith, I verity he spiritually indited you am of Paul; and I of Apollos; and I a letter about himself and Cephas of Cephas; and I of Christ. and Apollos. Here Clement only alludes to Paul's letter, not citing it, and he betrays a knowledge of the order and times in which Paul wrote his Epistles; for he declares that 1 Corinthians was written by Paul in the beginning of the good tidings--i.e., of his preaching to them of the Gospel. The Corinthians had been first evangelized by him three years before. The same phrase meets us in the same sense in Paul (Philippians iv, 15):-- And ye yourselves also know, ye Philippians, that in the beginning of the Gospel, when I departed from Macedonia, etc. Altogether there are thirty passages in Clement's Epistle to the Corinthians which indicate more or less clearly a knowledge of the Pauline Epistles, including that to Hebrews. If we were tracing the relation of two profane authors, no scholar would hesitate to acknowledge a direct influence of one on the other. Merely because one of them happens to belong to the New Testament, such writers as Van Manen, W. B. Smith, et hoc genus omne, feel themselves in duty bound to run their heads against a brick wall. The responsibility, it must be admitted, lies at the door of orthodox theologians. For centuries independent scholars have been warned off the domain of so-called sacred literature. The Bible might not be treated as any other book. I once heard the late Canon Liddon forecast the most awful fate for Oxford if it ever should be. The nemesis of orthodox superstition is that such writers as those we are criticizing cannot bring themselves to treat the book fairly, as they would other literature; nor is any hypothesis too crazy for them when they approach Church history. The laity, in turn, who too often do not know their right hand from their left, are so justly suspicious of the evasions and arrière-pensée of orthodox apologists that they are ready to accept any wild and unscholarly theory that labels itself Rationalist. [Presuppositions of the argument from silence] The Epistles of Paul, then, must obviously have been widely known before Marcion issued an expurgated edition of them in the year 140. We have shown that many of them were familiar to Clement of Rome in the last decade of the first century. But even if we had no traces of the Pauline Epistles before the year 140, as Van Manen and these writers in the teeth of the evidence maintain, it would not follow that they were as late as the first irrefragable use of them by a later author. Professor W. B. Smith's argument is based on the supposed silence of earlier authors, and he entitles his chapter on this subject "Silentium Saeculi." A magnificent petitio principii! He has never thought over the aptitudes of the "argument from silence." This argument, as MM. Langlois and Seignobos remark in their Introduction to the Study of History (translation by Berry; London, Duckworth, 1898), is based on the absence of indications with regard to a fact. From the circumstance of the fact [e.g., of Paul's writing certain epistles] not being mentioned in any document it is inferred that there was no such fact.... It rests on a feeling which in ordinary life is expressed by saying: "If it were true, we should have heard of it." ... In order that such reasoning should be justified it would be necessary that every fact should have been observed and recorded in writing, and that all the records should have been preserved. Now the greater part of the documents which have been written have been lost, and the greater part of the events which happen are not recorded in writing. In the majority of cases the argument would be invalid. It must, therefore, be restricted to the cases where the conditions implied in it have been fulfilled. It is necessary not only that there should be now no documents in existence which mention the fact in question, but that there should never have been any. Now it is notorious that in the case of the earliest Christian literature there was a special cause at work of a kind to lead to its disappearance; this was the perpetual alteration of standards of belief, and the anxiety of rival schools of thought to destroy one another's books. The philosophic authors above cited further point out that "every manuscript is at the mercy of the least accident; its preservation or destruction is a matter of pure chance." In the case of Christian books malice prepense and odium theologicum were added to accident and mere chance. How, then, can Mr. W. B. Smith be sure that there were not fifty writings before the year 140 which by citation or otherwise attested the earlier existence of all or some of the Pauline Epistles? We have the merest debris of the earliest Christian literature. What right has he to argue as if he had the whole of it in the hollow of his hand? In such a context the argument from silence is absolute rubbish, and he ought to know it. But, alas, the orthodox apologist has trained him in this sphere to be content with "demonstrations" which in any other would be at once extinguished by ridicule. [Date of Paulines to be determined by contents] Obviously the genuineness and date of the Pauline Epistles can only be determined by their contents, and not by a supposed deficiency of allusions to them in a literature that is well-nigh completely lost to us. Judged by these considerations, and by the hundreds of undesigned coincidences with the Book of Acts, we must conclude in regard to most of them that they are from the hand of the Paul who is so familiar a figure in that book. The author of the Paulines has just the same supreme and exclusive interest in the crucifixion, death, and resurrection of Jesus the Messiah as the Paul of Acts; he manifests everywhere the same aloofness from the earthly life and teaching of Jesus. They yield the same story as does Acts of his birth and upbringing, of his persecution of the Messianist followers of Jesus and of his conversion; much the same record of his missionary travels can be reconstructed from the Letters as we have in Acts. Yet there is no sign of borrowing on either side. By way of casting doubt on the Pauline Letters the deniers of the historicity insist on the fact that in Acts there is no hint of Paul ever having written Epistles to the Churches he created or visited. Why should there be? [Undesigned agreement between Acts and Paulines] To a companion Paul must have been much more than a mere writer of letters. To Luke the letter writing must have seemed the least important part of Paul's activity, although for us the accident of their survival makes the Epistles seem of prime importance. In the Epistles, on the other hand, it is objected that there is no indication of any use of Acts. How could there be, seeing that the book was not penned (except on Van Manen's hypothesis) until long after the Epistles had been written and sent? I admit that Paul's account in Galatians of his personal history is difficult to reconcile with Acts, and has provided a regular crux for critics of every school. [30] The numerous coincidences, however, of the two writings are all the more worthy of attention. If we found them agreeing pat with each other we should reasonably suspect some form of common authorship, if not of collusion. As it is they attest one another very much in the way in which the letters of Cicero attest and are attested by Sallust, Julius Cæsar, and other contemporary or later writers of Roman history. There is neither that complete accord nor complete discord between Acts and Paulines, which would lead a competent historian to distrust either as fairly contemporary and trustworthy witnesses to the same epoch and province of history. [Paul witnesses a real Jesus] The testimony of Paul to a real and historical Jesus is to be gathered from those passages in which he directly refers to him or in which he refers to his brethren and disciples, for obviously a solar myth cannot have had brethren nor have personally commissioned disciples and apostles. I have pointed out in the first chapter of Myth, Magic, and Morals that the interest of Paul in the historical Jesus was slender, and have explained why it was so. But that is no excuse for ignoring it, or pretending it is not there. [Summary of Pauline evidence] What does it amount to? This, that Jesus the Messiah "was born of the seed of David according to the flesh" (Rom. i, 2); that "he was born of a woman, born under the law"--that is to say, he was born like any other man, and not, as a later generation believed, of a virgin mother. It means also that he was born into Jewish circles, and that he was brought up as a Jew, obedient to the Mosaic law (Gal. iv, 4). His gospel was intended "for the Jews in the first instance, but also for the Greeks" (Rom. i, 16, ii, 11). He was "made a minister of the circumcision" (Rom. xv, 8); in other words, he had no quarrel with circumcision, even if he did not go out of his way to insist on it as part of the Law which, in the first Gospel it is recorded, he came not to destroy but to fulfil. [Evidence of Epistles to Timothy] According to Tim. ii, 8, Jesus was "of the seed of David according to my gospel." This implies that others than Paul did not admit the Davidic ancestry of Jesus, and it is implicitly rejected by Jesus himself in Mark xii, 35, as I point out in Myth, Magic, and Morals, ch. xii. That is good proof that the Epistle preserves a tradition that was quite independent on the later Gospels; and that proves that even if the Epistles to Timothy be not Paul's, they are anyhow very early documents, and constitute another witness to the historicity of Jesus. In the first of them, ch. vi, 13, we learn that Christ Jesus witnessed the good confession before Pontius Pilate. [Pauline evidence as to death of Jesus,] The passages in which Paul insists that Jesus was crucified, died, and rose again are so numerous that they almost defy collection. In 1 Cor. xv, 3, Paul relates the story of the resurrection at length. He says he had "received" it from those who believed before himself. From them he had learned that Christ had "died for our sins," had been "buried," and "raised on the third day," after which he appeared first "to Cephas" or Peter, next "to the Twelve"--i.e., the Twelve Apostles of whom we read in the Gospels that Jesus chose them and sent them forth to herald to the Jews the speedy approach of the Kingdom of God. Next "he appeared to 500 brethren at once" of whom most were still alive when Paul wrote; then "to James," then "to all the apostles," and "last of all" to Paul himself. [and as to his Hebrew disciples] On the strength of this last vision of the Lord, Paul claimed to be as good an apostle as any of those who were apostles before him (Gal. i, 17). Accordingly, in 1 Cor. ix, 1, he writes in answer to those who pooh-poohed his mission: "Am I not an apostle? Have I not seen Jesus our Lord?" And again, 2 Cor. xi, 22, in the same vein: "Are they Hebrews? So am I. Are they Israelites? So am I. Are they the seed of Abraham? So am I. Are they ministers of Christ? I speak as one beside myself. I am more; in labours more abundantly, in prisons," etc. So 2 Cor. xii, 11: "In nothing came I behind the very chiefest apostles." From such passages we can realize what a purely Hebrew business the Church was to begin with. To be an apostle you had to be at least a Hebrew, and it is clear that the earlier apostles challenged the right of Paul to call himself an apostle on the ground that he had not, as they, been a personal follower of Jesus. Their challenge led him to preface his Epistles with an assertion of his apostleship: "Paul, an apostle of Messiah Jesus." We learn further (1 Cor. xi, 23 foll.) how on a certain night "the Lord Jesus was betrayed" or handed over to his enemies (N.B.--The occasion is referred to as one well known); how he then took bread, and when he had given thanks, brake it, etc. All this ill agrees with the view that Paul believed the Jesus of the Gospels to be an ancient Palestinian Sun-God-Saviour Joshua. We read also (1 Cor. ix, 5) that "the brethren of the Lord," like "the rest of the apostles and Cephas," led about wives (probably spiritual ones), and Paul claims the same right for himself. In Galatians, ch. ii, he recounts how he went up to Jerusalem to visit Cephas, and tarried with him fifteen days, on which occasion he associated with James, the brother of the solar myth. On another occasion this brother of the Sun-god sent emissaries to Antioch to warn Peter or Cephas against eating with Gentiles, as Paul had taught him to do. Peter had been "intrusted with the gospel of the circumcision," as Paul with that of the uncircumcision. On this occasion there was a stand-up quarrel between Paul and the older apostle of the sun-myth, and Paul's Epistles ring from beginning to end with echoes of his quarrel over circumcision with the sun-myth's earlier followers. How do Mr. Robertson and his friends get round all this evidence? Their way out of it is beautifully simple. It consists in ruling out every passage as an interpolation that stands in their way. So I have seen an ill-tempered chess-player, when he lost his queen, kick over the chess-table and begin to swear. That is one device. The other is to pretend that the apostles with whom Paul was in personal touch were not apostles of the solar god, but of the Jewish high priest, who was also president of that secret society in whose bosom were acted the ritual and dramas or mystery-plays [31] of annually slain Joshuas, of vegetation-gods, of Osiris, Krishna, and the whole pack of mythical beings out of whom the Jewish Messiah Jesus was compacted. [The "myth" of the Twelve] Let us take first the "myth," as Mr. Robertson styles it, of the Twelve Apostles. Needless to say, Mr. Robertson and his friends regard the Gospel story of their choice and mission as a fable. But they have the bad grace to turn up afresh in Paul's Epistles. Away with them, therefore, exclaims Mr. Robertson; and his friends echo his cry. "In the documents from which all scientific study of Christian origins must proceed--the Epistles of Paul--there is no evidence of such a body" (Christianity and Mythology, p. 341). In the passage in which the Twelve are mentioned (1 Cor. xv, 3 foll.) we are further instructed "there is one interpolation on another." It does not in the least matter that the passage stands in every manuscript, and in every ancient version and commentator. It offends Mr. Robertson and his friends; so we must cut it out. Bos locutus est; and he complacently sums up his argument (p. 342) in the words: "Paul, then, knew nothing of a 'twelve.'" [Difficulties about Judas] And yet he notes (p. 354) that in the fragments of the Peter Gospel recently recovered from the sands of Egypt, Jesus is still credited with twelve disciples immediately after the crucifixion, and it is therein related that they "wept and grieved" at the loss of their master. No hint, Mr. Robertson justly remarks, is here given of the defection of Judas from the group. No more is any hint given of it in Paul's Epistle. These two sources, therefore, support each other in a most unexpected manner in ignoring the Judas story. At the same time twelve disciples or apostles (in the context they are the same thing) are incredible as an interpolation; for an interpolator would have adjusted his interpolation to the early diffused story of Judas's treason, and have written not "the Twelve," but "the Eleven." Mr. Robertson admits that "at the stage of the composition of this (the Peter) Gospel, the Judas myth was not current," and that therefore the "Judas myth" is later than that of the Twelve. It must, by parity of reasoning, be later than the text of Paul, which, therefore, if interpolated, must have been interpolated before the legend, if such it be, of Judas the traitor got abroad. Now we already meet with this legend in Mark, and it is taken over from him by the other evangelists, Matthew embellishing it with the tale of Judas hanging himself, and Luke in Acts with that of his bursting asunder. Papias, before A.D. 140, knew of further details of Judas's story of a most macabre kind; the story stood also in the lost form of gospel used by Celsus, about 160-180, against whom Origen wrote. The tale of Judas, then, was of wide and early diffusion; yet Mr. Robertson, as we have seen, admits that at the time when the Peter Gospel emerged the Judas myth was not yet abroad. Neither, then, can it have been current at the stage of the interpolating of Paul's Epistle, and this interpolation, therefore, is prior to all the Gospels, to Acts, and to the sources used by Papias and by the authors of the Peter Gospel and of Celsus's Gospel. Nevertheless, on p. 357, Mr. Robertson, as a last method of avoiding Paul's testimony on another point, is inclined to "decide with Van Manen that all the Pauline Epistles are pseudepigraphic," and merely express the views of "second-century Christian champions." He therefore commits himself to the supposition that Epistles forged not earlier than A.D. 130, were yet interpolated in the interests of a tradition in which "the Twelve are treated as holding together after the resurrection (p. 354)," which tradition, however, must have long before that date been abrogated by the growing popularity of the Judas myth. Could texts be treated with greater levity? I may also note that the inconsistency of Paul's statement that Jesus "was seen" by the Twelve with the Judas story was so patent to scribes of the third and fourth centuries that they had already begun to alter it in the Greek texts and versions to the statement that "he was seen by the Eleven." Now is it likely that Paul's text at any time would have been interpolated in such a way as to make it contradict so early and popular a Christian belief as that in the treason and hurried suicide of Judas? The hypothesis is absurd, and not the less absurd because it is framed merely to save the other hypothesis that the twelve apostles of the Gospels were for the authors of the Gospels and for their readers an allegory of the twelve signs of the Zodiac revolving round the solar myth Joshua. Such are the lengths to which the exigencies of his "mythic" system drive Mr. Robertson. [Paul testifies that the older apostles conversed with Jesus] Some texts which imply that Paul, if he did not actually see Jesus walking about on this earth, yet imply that he might have done so, he seems to despair of, and passes them over in silence. Such is the text, 2 Cor. v, 16: "Wherefore we henceforth know no man after the flesh: even though we have known Christ after the flesh, yet now we know him so no more." The older apostles, as is implied in verse 12 of the same chapter, prided themselves on their personal intercourse with Jesus, and twitted Paul with never having enjoyed it. Paul's answer is that henceforth--i.e., now that he is converted--he has no interest in any man, not even in Jesus, as a being of flesh and blood, but only as a vessel filled with the spirit of election, and so a new creature in Christ, the first member of the heavenly kingdom on earth. He seems to aver that he had actually seen his Redeemer in the flesh, but before he was converted. But such knowledge with him counts nothing in his own favour; nor will he allow it to count in favour of the older apostles. Their association with Jesus in the flesh failed to render them apostles in any other sense than his vision of the risen Jesus rendered him one also. But there are other texts in Paul most inconvenient to the zodiacal theory of the apostles. Such are the texts I have cited from Galatians. How does Mr. Robertson get rid of their evidence? [Epistle to Galatians attests reality of Peter, John, and James] He begins (p. 342) with the usual caveat that the Epistle to the Galatians is probably not genuine, and, even if it be, is nevertheless "frequently interpolated." And yet any reader, with eyes in his head and an intelligence behind them, must recognize in this Epistle a writing which, above all other ancient writings, rings true, and is instinct with the personality of a missionary, who in it bares his inmost heart to his converts. Against this impression, which it must leave upon anyone but a pedant, and against the fact that in the external tradition there is nothing to suggest either that it is not genuine or that it is a mass of interpolations, what has Mr. Robertson to offer us in support of his thesis? Nothing, except his ipse dixit. We are to accept on a purely philological question the verdict of one whose mythological equations are on a par with those of the editors of the Banner of Israel. However, he does condescend to explain away the apostles with whom, at Jerusalem, Paul held personal converse; and, taking from Professor W. B. Smith a cue, which is also caught at by Professor Drews, he assures us that the Peter (or Cephas), James, and John, whom Paul knew personally, were not men who had been "in direct intercourse with Jesus," but were merely "leaders of an existing sect"--i.e., of the secret sect of Jews who, after celebrating endless ritual dramas of annually slain Joshuas and vegetation-gods, had, by dint of prolonged archæological study of pagan mythology, art, and statuary, elaborated the four Gospels, adopted the Old Testament as their holy scripture, and Messianic Judaism as their distinctive creed; for such in essence the Christianity of the last half of the first century was, as even Mr. Robertson will hardly deny. But Paul (Gal. i, 18, 19) expressly ranks Peter, or Cephas, together with James, among the apostles, using that word in a wide sense of persons commissioned by Jesus; and he describes James and Cephas and John (ii, 9) as men "who were reputed to be pillars," or leading men of the Church. He declares that in the end they made friends with him, and arranged that he should preach the Kingdom to the uncircumcised Gentiles as they were doing to the circumcised Jews. [The "Twelve" were apostles of the Jewish High Priest!] Now who had commissioned these three apostles, if not Jesus? Who had taught them about the Kingdom and sent them forth to proclaim it? Mr. Robertson, oddly enough, scents a difficulty in the idea of a Sun-God-Saviour Joshua, albeit son of Miriam a virgin, sending forth apostles; so he decides that "apostles" in Galatians means "the twelve apostles of the Patriarch, of whom he must have had knowledge" (p. 342). Of what Patriarch? Why, of course, "of the Patriarch or High Priest," whose "twelve apostles" formed "an institution which preceded and survived the beginning of the Christian era" (p. 344). And, to use Mr. Robertson's own phrase in such connections, "the plot thickens" when we find (ibid.) that the twelve Jewish Apostles aforesaid, who were commissioned by the High Priest--and later by the Patriarch at Tiberias--to collect tribute from the scattered faithful, were no others than the Twelve Apostles who wrote the [And they wrote the Didaché!] "teaching of the Twelve Apostles," recovered in 1873 by Bryennios! These "Judaizing apostles preached circumcision," [32] and "were among the leaders of the Jesuist community in its pre-Pauline days." This discovery of Mr. Robertson's is of stupendous interest. It amounts to nothing less than this: that the pre-Pauline secret sect of "Jesuists" which kept up in Jerusalem the cult of the Sun-God-Saviour Joshua, with his late Persian appendage of a virgin mother Miriam; and, not content with doing that, padded it out with ritual dramas of vegetation-gods, cults of Osiris, of Dionysus, Proteus, Hermes, Janus, and fifty other gods and heroes (whose legends Mr. Robertson has studied in Smith's Dictionary of Mythology)--this sect, I say, had for its president the Jewish High Priest, and for its "pillars" the apostles, or messengers, whom the said High Priest was in the habit of sending out to the Jews of the Dispersion for the collection of the Temple tribute! This High Priest, we further learn on p. 342, was the "man" who sent out the apostles in the first verse of Galatians, from which apostles Paul expressly dissociates himself when he writes: "Paul, an apostle, not from men, neither through a man, but through Jesus Christ." Here we are to understand that Paul is pitting his Sun-God-Saviour Joshua against the Jewish High Priest. The Sun-god has sent him forth, though not the other apostles. That must be Mr. Robertson's interpretation, and we must give up the older and more obvious one which saw in the words "not from men, neither through man," no reference to a Jewish high priest or priests, but a mere enhancement of the claim, ever reiterated by Paul, that he owed his apostleship direct to the risen Jesus Christ and God the Father; so that he held a divine and spiritual, not an earthly and carnal, commission. My readers must by now feel very much like poor little Alice when the Black Queen was dragging her across Wonderland. If they find the sensation delightful, they can, I daresay, enjoy plenty more of it by a closer study of Mr. Robertson's books on the subject. If they do not like it, then they must not blame me for taking him seriously; for is he not acclaimed by Dr. Drews as our greatest exegete of the New Testament, Dr. Frazer alone excepted? Is he not the spiritual guide of learned German orientalists like Winckler and Jensen? Has not Professor W. B. Smith assured us of how much he feels he can learn from such a scholar and thinker, though "he has preferred not to poach on his preserves." [33] It is, therefore, incumbent on me to probe his work a little further. Let us return to the passage, 1 Cor. xv, 5, where we are told that Jesus appeared first to Cephas. We have already seen that the Peter of the Gospels is in this new system alternately a sign of the Zodiac, a Mithraic myth, an alias of Janus, of Proteus, a member of any other Pantheon you like. Obviously he has nothing to do with Paul's acquaintance. The latter in turn is "not one of the pupils and companions of the crucified Jesus" (p. 348). How, indeed, could he be, seeing that Jesus is a Sun-god crucified upon the Milky Way? No, he is something much humbler--to wit, "simply one of the apostles of a Judaic cult that preaches circumcision," and, more definitely, as we have seen, one of the twelve apostles of the Jewish High Priest. James and John must equally have belonged to this interesting band of apostles. [Jesus of Nazareth was Jesus Ben Pandira,] This being so, it is pertinent to ask why Paul so persistently indicates that these apostles and pillars of the Church had seen Jesus and conversed with him in the flesh. To this question Mr. Robertson attempts no answer. For he believes that the crucified Jesus, to whom Paul refers on every page of his Epistles, was not the Jesus of Christian tradition, but "Jesus Ben Pandira, dead long before, and represented by no preserved biography or teachings whatever" (p. 378). This Jesus had "really been only hanged on a tree" (ibid.); but "the factors of a crucifixion myth," among which we must not forget its "phallic significance," for that "should connect with all its other aspects" (p. 375),--these factors, says Mr. Robertson, "were conceivably strong enough to turn the hanging into a crucifixion." [who had died one hundred years before] It follows that Paul was quite mistaken in indicating the apostles whom he conversed with at Jerusalem to be apostles of the crucified one; in order to be so, they must all have been over-ripe centenarians, since Pandira had died at least a hundred years before. It matters nothing that on the next page (379) Mr. Robertson entertains doubts as to whether this worthy ever lived at all. Who else, he asks (p. 364), could "the Pauline Jesus, who has taught nothing and done nothing," be, save "a doctrinal evolution from the Jesus of a hundred years before?" We must, he adds with delightful ignoratio elenchi, "perforce assume such a long evolution." Otherwise it would not be "intelligible that, even if he had been only hanged after stoning, he should by that time have come to figure mythically as crucified." He admits that Paul's "references to a crucified Jesus are constant, and offer no sign of interpolation." And he is quite ready to admit also that, "if the Jesus of Paul were really a personage put to death under Pontius Pilate, the Epistles (of Paul) would give us the strongest ground for accepting an actual crucifixion." But, alas, the Jesus put to death under Pontius Pilate, the Javelin-man, is no more than an allegory of Joshua the ancient Palestinian Sun-god, rolled up with a vegetation-god and other mythical beings, and slain afresh once a year. There is thus no alternative left but to identify Paul's crucified Jesus with Jesus Ben Pandira; and Mr. Robertson, with a sigh of relief, embraces the alternative, for he feels that Paul's evidence is menacing his whole structure. It was nasty of Paul not to indicate more clearly to us that by his crucified Jesus he intended Jesus Ben Pandira; and, in view of the circumstance that we have left to us no "biography or teachings whatever" of this Jesus, Paul might surely have communicated to us some details of his career. It would have saved Mr. Robertson the trouble of inventing them. [James, brother of Jesus, only in a Pickwickian sense] At first sight, too, it was extremely inconsiderate of Paul to "thicken the plot" by bringing on his stage a brother of Jesus Ben Pandira or of the solar myth Joshua. I am not sure which. But Mr. Robertson, like Alice, is out for strange adventures, and prepared to face any emergency. "Brother," therefore, is here to be taken in a Pickwickian sense only. And here we will let Dr. W. B. Smith take up the parable, for it is he who has, with the help of St. Jerome, found his friends a way out of their difficulty. Moreover, he is more in need of a way out than even Mr. Robertson; for he declines to admit behind Jesus of Nazareth even--what Mr. Robertson styles, p. 364--"a Talmudic trace of a Jesus (Ben Pandira), who was put to death on the eve of the Passover about a century before the time of Pontius Pilate." Professor Smith cannot hesitate, therefore, to be of opinion that, when Paul calls James a brother of the Lord, he does not "imply any family kinship," but one of a "class of earnest Messianists, zealots of obedience" to the Mosaic Law. He appeals in confirmation of his conjecture to the apostrophe of Jesus when his mother and brethren came to arrest him as an ecstatic (Mark iii, 31-35):-- Who is my mother and my brethren? ... whosoever shall do the will of God, the same is my brother and sister and mother. He also appeals to 1 Cor. ix, 5, where Paul alludes to "the brethren of the Lord" as claiming a right to lead about a wife that is a sister. And he argues that those who in Corinth, to the imperilling of Christian unity, said, some, "I am of Cephas"; others, "I am of Christ"; others, "I am of Apollos," were known as brethren of Christ, of Cephas, etc. Now it is true that Paul and other early Christian writers regarded the members of the Church as brethren or as sisters, just as the members of monastic society have ever styled themselves brothers and sisters of one another. But there is no example of a believer being called a brother of the Lord or of Jesus. [34] The passage in Mark and its parallels are, according to Professor Smith, purely legendary and allegorical, since he denies that Jesus ever lived; and he has no right, therefore, to appeal to them in order to decide what Paul intended by the phrase when he used it, as before, not of a mythical, but of a concrete, case. However, if Professor Smith is intent on appealing to the Gospels, then he must allow equal weight to such a text as Matthew xiii, 55: "Is not this the carpenter's son? Is not his mother called Mary? and his brethren, James and Joseph and Simon and Judas? And his sisters, are they not all with us?" Did all these people, we may ask, including his mother, stand in a merely spiritual relationship to Jesus? Impossible. If they were not flesh and blood relations, then the passage is meaningless even as allegorical romance. Again, in the very passage to which Professor Smith appeals (Mark iii, 31-35), we read that his mother and brethren came and stood without, and it was their interference with him that provoked the famous apostrophe. Were they, too, only spiritually related to him? Were they, too, "earnest Messianists, zealots of obedience"? In John's Gospel we hear afresh that his brethren believed not in him. Were they, too, mere "earnest Messianists, zealots of obedience"? When Josephus, again, alludes to "James the Just who was brother of Jesus," is he, an enemy of the Christian faith, adopting Christian slang? Does he, too, mean merely to "denote religious relation without the remotest hint of blood kinship"? In 1 Cor. ix, 5, the most natural interpretation is that the brothers of the Lord are his real brothers, whose names are supplied in the Gospels. [Both in Paul and in the Gospels the "myth" has parents and brothers and sisters] Here, then, are four wholly independent groups of ancient documents, of which one gives us the names of four of the brothers of Jesus, clearly indicating that they were real brothers, and sons of Mary and the Carpenter; while the other group (the Paulines) speak as ever of his "brothers," but give us the name of one only, James; the third--viz., the works of Josephus--allude to one only--viz., James, but without indicating that there were not several. Lastly, the we document (Acts xxi, 18) testifies that "Paul went in with us unto James." Is not this enough? Surely, if we were here treating of profane history, no sane student would for a moment hesitate to accept such data, furnished by wholly independent and coincident documents, as historical. Professor Smith's other guess, that in 1 Cor. ix, 5, brethren means spiritual brethren, just begs the question, and, like his spiritual interpretation of James's relationship, offends Greek idiom, as I said above. Paul, like the author of Acts xxi, 17, speaks of "the brother" or of "the brethren"--e.g., in 1 Cor. viii, 11: "the brother for whose sake Christ died"; but when the person whose brother it is is named, a blood relationship is always conveyed in the Paulines as in the rest of the New Testament. If "brethren of the Lord" in 1 Cor. ix, 5, does not mean real brethren, why are they distinguished from all the apostles, who on Professor Smith's assumption, above all others, merited to be called "brethren of the Lord"? The appeal, moreover, to 1 Cor. i, 12 foll., is absurd; for Paul is alluding there to factions among the believers of Corinth; how is it possible to interpret these factions as brotherhoods? There was only one brotherhood of the faithful, according to Paul's ideal; and the relationship involved in such phrases as "I of Cephas," "I of Paul," is that of a convert to his teacher and evangelist, not that of spiritual brethren to each other. As used by his Corinthian converts, such phrases were a direct menace to spiritual brotherhood and unity, and not an expression of it; and that is why Paul wished to hear no more of them. When he makes appeal to them Professor Smith damages rather than benefits his argument. [Jerome's opinion about Jesus's brothers] There remains the appeal to Jerome (Ecce Deus, p. 237):-- No less an authority than Jerome has expressed the correct idea on this point. In commenting on Gal. i, 19, he says (in sum): "James was called the Lord's brother on account of his high character, his incomparable faith, and his extraordinary wisdom; the other apostles are also called brothers" (John xx, 17). Here Professor Smith withholds from his readers the fact that Jerome regarded James the brother of Jesus as his first cousin. It is just as difficult for a mythical personage to have a first cousin as to have a brother. Moreover, the reasons which actuated Jerome to deny that Jesus had real brethren was--as the Encyclopædia Biblica (art. James) points out--"a prepossession in favour of the perpetual virginity of Mary the mother of Jesus." It is, indeed, a hollow theory that, in order to its justification, must take refuge in the Encratite rubbish of Jerome. [Mutual independence of Pauline and Gospel stories of the risen Christ] If the crucified Jesus of Paul was Jesus Ben Pandira, stoned to death and hanged on a tree between the years B.C. 106-79, then how can Paul have written (1 Cor. xv, 6) that the greater part of the 500 brethren to whom Jesus appeared were still alive? I neither assert nor deny the possibility of so many at once having fallen under the spell of a common illusion, though I believe the annals of religious ecstasy might afford parallels. But this I do maintain, that the passage records a conviction in Paul's mind that Jesus, after his death by crucifixion, had appeared to many at once, and that not a hundred years before, but at a comparatively recent time. That is also Mr. Robertson's view; for, rather than face the passage, he whips out his knife and cuts it out of the text. Yet there is not a single reason for doing so, except that it upsets his hypothesis; for the circumstance that the incident cannot be reconciled with the Gospel stories of the apparitions of the risen Christ clearly shows that Paul's text is independent on them. Mr. Robertson argues that, if it were not a late interpolation, the evangelists would have found it in Paul and incorporated it in their Gospels. I ask in turn, why did the interpolator thrust into the Pauline letter not only this passage, but at least two other incidents (the apparitions to Peter and James) which figure in no canonical Gospel? Why, if the Evangelists were bound to consult the Paulines in giving an account of these posthumous appearances, was not the hypothetical interpolator of the Paulines equally bound to consult them? The most natural hypothesis is that the Gospels on one side and the Pauline Epistles on the other led independent lives, till their respective traditions were so firmly fixed that no one could tamper with either of them. The conflict, therefore, such as it is, between this Pauline passage and the Gospels is the strongest possible proof of its genuineness. [The Pauline account of the Eucharist] Mr. Robertson's treatment of the Pauline description of the origin of the Lord's Supper as described in 1 Cor. xi, 23-27, is another example of his determination simply to rule out all evidence which he cannot explain away. "It is evident," he writes (p. 347), that this whole passage, "or at least the first part of it, is an interpolation." We would expect him to produce support for this view from some MS. or ancient version for what is so evident. Not at all; for he takes no interest in, and has no turn for, the scientific criticism of texts a posteriori, but deals with them by a priori intuitions of his own. "The passage in question (verses 23, 24, 25) has every appearance of being an interpolation." He is the first to discover such an appearance. It is well known that the words "took bread" as far as "in my blood" recur in Luke xxii, 19, 20; and this is how Mr. Robertson deals with the problem of their recurrence: "No one pretends that the Third Gospel was in existence in Paul's time; and the only question is whether Luke copied the Epistle or a late copyist supplemented the Epistle from Luke." Surely there is another alternative--viz., that a copyist of Luke supplemented the Gospel from Paul. This is as conceivable as that a copyist of Paul supplemented the Epistle from Luke. It is also an hypothesis that has textual evidence in favour of it; for the Bezan Codex and several old Latin MSS., as well as the old Syriac version, omit the words, which is given on your behalf, as far as on your behalf is shed--that is to say, the end of verse 19 and the whole of verse 20. But, since the Bezan omission does not cover the whole of the matter taken from Corinthians, we may suppose that Luke borrowed the words from the Epistle in question. Here we have a palmary example of the mingled temerity and ignorance with which Mr. Robertson applies his principle of "vital interpolations" to remove anything from the New Testament texts which stands in the way of his far-fetched hypotheses and artificial combinations. [Jesus Ben Pandira in Talmud is Jesus of Nazareth] But it is time to inquire whence Mr. Robertson derived his certainty that Jesus Ben Pandira died in the reign of Alexander Jannaeus, B.C. 106-79. Dr. Samuel Kraus, in his exhaustive study of Talmudic notices of Jesus of Nazareth (Das Leben Jesu nach jüdischen Quellen, Berlin, 1902, p. 242) assumes as a fact beyond dispute that the Jeschu or Joshua Ben Pandira (or Ben Stada or Ben Satda) mentioned in the Toldoth Jeschu is Jesus of Nazareth. In the Toldoth he is set in the reign of Tiberius. This Toldoth is not earlier than A.D. 400, and took its information from the pseudo-Hegesippus. The Spanish historian Abraham b. Daûd (about A.D. 1100) already noticed that the Talmudic tradition alluded to by Mr. Robertson set the birth of Jesus of Nazareth a hundred years too early; but the same tradition corrects itself in that it assigns Salome Alexandra to Alexander Jannai as his wife, and then, confusing her with Queen Helena the proselyte, brings the incident down to the right date. "The truth is," says Dr. Kraus (p. 183), "we have got to do here with a chronological error." Lightfoot, to whose Horæ Hebraicæ Mr. Robertson refers in his footnote (p. 363), also assumed that by Jesus Ben Pandira, or son of Panthera, the Talmudists intended Jesus of Nazareth. Celsus (about A.D. 170) attested a Jewish tradition that Jesus Christ was Mary's son by a Roman soldier named Panthera, and later on even Christian writers worked Panthera into Mary's pedigree. Such is the origin of the Talmudic tradition exploited by Mr. Robertson. It is almost worthless; but, so far as it goes, it overthrows Mr. Robertson's hypothesis. [The disputed Epistles of Paul so many fresh witnesses] The Epistles to Colossians, Thessalonians, and the so-called Pastorals, if they are not genuine works of Paul, form so many fresh witnesses against the hypothesis of Mr. Robertson and his friends. Such a verse as Col. ii, 14, where in highly metaphorical language Jesus is said to have nailed the bond of all our trespasses to the cross, is an unmistakable allusion to the historical crucifixion; as also is the phrase "blood of his cross" in the same epistle, i, 20. In 1 Thess. iv, 14, is attested the belief that Jesus died and rose again; and again in v, 10. I have already indicated the express reference to the crucifixion under Pontius Pilate in 1 Tim. v, 13, and the statement in 2 Tim. ii, 8, that Jesus Christ, risen from the dead, was of the seed of David. These epistles may not be from Paul's hand, but they are unmistakably early; and their forgers, if they be forged, undoubtedly held that Jesus had really lived. So also did the author, whoever he was, of Hebrews, who speaks, ch. ii, 9, of Jesus suffering death, in ii, 18, of his "having suffered, being tempted." In vii, 14, we read this: "For it is evident that our Lord hath sprung out of Judah." If Jesus was only a myth, how could this writer have written, probably before A.D. 70, that he was of the tribe of Judah? In ch. xii, 2, we are told that Jesus "endured the cross." That this epistle was penned before the destruction of Jerusalem by Titus is made probable by the statement in ix, 8, that "the first tabernacle is yet standing." Indeed, most of the epistle is turned into nonsense by any other hypothesis. [Catholic Epistles] The first Epistle of Peter is very likely pseudepigraphic, but it cannot be later than the year 100. It testifies, iv, 1, that Christ "suffered in the flesh." The Johannine Epistles are probably from the same hand as the Fourth Gospel, and belong to the period 90-110 A.D. Their author insists (1 John iv, 2), as against the Docetes, that "Jesus Christ is come in the flesh." The Epistle of Jude, about the same date, exhorts those to whom it was addressed to "remember the words which have been spoken before by the Apostles of our Lord Jesus Christ." [Book of Revelation] Lastly, the Revelation of John can be definitely dated about A.D. 93. It testifies to the existence of several churches in Asia Minor in that age, and, in spite of the fanciful and oriental character of its imagery, it is from beginning to end irreconcilable with the supposition that its author did not believe in a Jesus who had lived, died, and was coming again to establish the new Jerusalem on earth. In ch. xxii, 16, Jesus is made to testify that he is the root and offspring of David. That does not look as if its author regarded Jesus as a solar or any other sort of myth. CHAPTER V EXTERNAL EVIDENCE [Evidence of Josephus] It remains to examine how this school of writers handle the evidence with regard to the earliest church supplied by Jewish or Pagan writers. I have said enough incidentally of the evidence of the Talmud and Toldoth Jeschu, but there remains that of Josephus. In the work on the Antiquities of the Jews, Bk. xviii, 5, 2 (116 foll.), there is an account of John the Baptist, and it is narrated that Herod, fearing an insurrection of John's followers, threw him in bonds into the castle of Machaerus, and there murdered him. Afterwards, when Herod's army was destroyed, the Jewish population attributed the disaster to the wrath of God, and saw in it a retribution for slaying so just a man. [35] On the whole, Josephus's account accords with the picture we have of John in the Synoptic Gospels, except that in the Gospels the place and circumstances of his murder are differently given. This difference is good evidence that Josephus's account is independent of the Christian sources. Nevertheless, Dr. Drews airily pretends that there is a strong suspicion of its being a forgery by some Christian hand. As for John the Baptist as we meet him in the Gospels, he is, says Drews, no historical personage. One expects some reason to be given for this negative conclusion, but gets none whatever except a magnificent hint that "a complete understanding of the baptism in the Jordan can only be attained, if here, too, we take into consideration the translation of the baptism into astrological terms" (Christ Myth, p. 121). [The astral John Baptist] And he proceeds to dilate on the thesis that the baptism of Jesus in the Jordan was "the reflection upon earth of what originally took place among the stars." This discovery rests on an equation--pre-philological, of course, like that of "Maria" with "Myrrha"--of the name "John" or "Jehohanan" with "Oannes" or "Ea," the Babylonian Water-god. However, this writer is here not a little incoherent, for only on the page before he has assured us, as of something unquestionable, that John was closely related to the Essenes, and baptized the penitents in the Jordan in the open air. Was Jordan, too, up in heaven? Were the Essenes there also? Mr. Robertson, of course, pursues the same simple method of disposing of adverse evidence, and asserts (p. 396) that Josephus's account of John "is plainly open to that suspicion of interpolation which, in the case of the allusion to Jesus in the same book (Antiq., xviii, 3, 3), has become for most critics a certainty." He does not condescend to inform his readers that the latter passage [36] is absent from important MSS., was unknown to Origen, and is therefore rightly bracketed by editors; whereas the account of John is in all MSS., and was known to Origen. But as we have seen before, Mr. Robertson is one of those gifted people who can discern by peculiar intuitions of their own that everything is interpolated in an author which offends their prejudices. He has a lofty contempt for the careful sifting of the textual tradition, the examination of MSS. and ancient versions to which a scholar resorts, before he condemns a passage of an ancient author as an interpolation. Moreover, a scholar feels himself bound to show why a passage was interpolated, in whose interests. For, regarded as an interpolation, a passage is as much a problem to him as it was before. Its genesis has still to be explained. But Messrs. Robertson and Drews and Smith do not condescend to explain anything or give any reasons. A passage slays their theories; therefore it is a "vital interpolation." It is the work of an ancient enemy sowing tares amid their wheat. [Josephus's reference to James, brother of Jesus] John the Baptist having been removed in this cavalier fashion from the pages of Josephus, we can hardly expect James the brother of Jesus to be left, and he is accordingly kicked out without ceremony. It does not matter a scrap that the passage (Antiquities xx, 9, 1, 200) stands in the Greek MSS. and in the Latin Version. As Professor W. B. Smith's argument on the point is representative of this class of critics, we must let him speak first (p. 235):-- Origen thrice quotes as from Josephus the statement that the Jewish sufferings at the hands of Titus were a divine retribution for the slaying of James. He then proceeds to quote the text of Origen, Against Celsus, i, 47, giving the reference, but mangling in the most extraordinary manner a text that is clear and consecutive. For Origen begins (ch. xlvii) by saying that Celsus "somehow accepted John as a Baptist who baptized Jesus," and then adds the following:-- In the Eighteenth Book of his Antiquities of the Jews Josephus bears witness to John as having been a Baptist, and as promising purification to those who underwent the rite. Now this writer, although not believing in Jesus as the Christ, in seeking after the cause of the fall of Jerusalem and the destruction of the Temple, whereas he ought to have said that the conspiracy against Jesus was the cause of these calamities befalling the people since they put to death Christ, who was a prophet, says, nevertheless--although against his will, not far from the truth--that these disasters happened to the Jews as a punishment for the death of James the Just, who was a brother of Jesus called Christ, the Jews having put him to death, although he was a man most distinguished for his righteousness (i.e., strict observance of the law). In a later passage of the same treatise (ii, 13), which Mr. Smith cites correctly, Origen refers again to the same passage of the Antiquities (xx, 200) thus: "Titus demolished Jerusalem, as Josephus writes, on account of James the Just, the brother of Jesus, the so-called Christ." Also in Origen's commentary on Matthew xiii, 55, we have a like statement that the sufferings of the Jews were a punishment for the murder of James the Just. Origen therefore cites Josephus thrice about James, and in each case he has in mind the same passage--viz., xx, 200. But Mr. Smith, after citing the shorter passage, Contra Celsum, ii, 13, goes on as follows:-- The passage is still found in some Josephus manuscripts; but, as it is wanting in others, it is, and must be, regarded as a Christian interpolation older than Origen. Will Mr. Smith kindly tell us which are the MSS. in which are found any passage or passages referring the fall of Jerusalem to the death of James, and so far contradicting Josephus's interpretation of Ananus's death in the History of the Jewish War, iv, 5, 2. Niese, the latest editor, knows of none, nor did any previous editor know of any. Mr. Smith then proceeds thus:-- Now, since this phrase is certainly interpolated in the one place, the only reasonable conclusion is that it is interpolated in the other. But "this phrase" never stood in Josephus at all, even as an interpolation, and on examination it turns out that Professor Smith's prejudice against the passage in which Josephus mentions James, is merely based on the muddle committed by Origen. Such are the arguments by which he seeks to prove that Josephus's text was interpolated by a Christian, as if a Christian interpolator, supposing there had been one (and he has left no trace of himself), would not, as the protest of Origen sufficiently indicates, have represented the fall of Jerusalem as a divine punishment, not for the slaying of James, but for the slaying of Jesus. Having demolished the evidence of Josephus in such a manner, Mr. Smith heads ten of his pages with the words, "The Silence of Josephus," as if he had settled all doubts for ever by mere force of his erroneous ipse dixit. [The testimony of Tacitus] The next section of Professor Smith's work (Ecce Deus) is headed with the same effrontery of calm assertion: "The Silence of Tacitus." This historian relates (Annals, xv, 44) that Nero accused the Christians of having burned down Rome. Nero subjected to most exquisite tortures those whom, hated for their crimes, the populace called Chrestians. The author of this name, Christus, had been executed in the reign of Tiberius by the Procurator Pontius Pilate; and, though repressed for the moment, the pernicious superstition was breaking forth again, not only throughout Judæa, the fountain-head of this mischief, but also throughout the capital, where all things from anywhere that are horrible or disgraceful pour in together and are made a religion of. In the sequel Tacitus describes how an immense multitude, less for the crime of incendiarism than in punishment of their hatred of humanity, were convicted; how some were clothed in skins of wild beasts and thrown to dogs, while others were crucified or burned alive. Nero's savagery was such that it awoke the pity even of a Roman crowd for his victims. Such a passage as the above, written by Tacitus soon after A.D. 100, is somewhat disconcerting to our authors. Professor Smith, proceeding on his usual innocent assumption that the whole of the ancient literature, Christian and profane, of this epoch lies before him, instead of a scanty débris of it, votes it to be a forgery. Why? Because Melito, Bishop of Sardis about 170 A.D., is the first writer who alludes to it in a fragment of an apology addressed to a Roman Emperor. As if there were not five hundred striking episodes narrated by Tacitus, yet never mentioned by any subsequent writer at all. Would Mr. Smith on that account dispute their authenticity? It is only because this episode concerns Christianity and gets in the way of his theories, that he finds it necessary to cut it out of the text. You can prove anything if you cook your evidence, and the wanton mutilation of texts which no critical historian has ever called in question is a flagrant form of such cookery. In the hands of these writers facts are made to fit theory, not theory to fit facts. [Testimony of Clement agrees with Tacitus] I hardly need add that the narrative of Tacitus is frank, straightforward, and in keeping with all we know or can infer in regard to Christianity in that epoch. Mr. E. G. Hardy, in his valuable book Christianity and the Roman Government (London, 1894, p. 70), has pointed out that "the mode of punishment was that prescribed for those convicted of magic," and that Suetonius uses the term malefica of the new religion--a term which has this special sense. Magicians, moreover, in the code of Justinian, which here as often reflects a much earlier age, are declared to be "enemies of the human race." Nor is it true that Nero's persecution as recorded in Tacitus is mentioned by no writer before Melito. It is practically certain that Clement, writing about A.D. 95, refers to it. He records that a poly plêthos, or vast multitude of Christians, the ingens multitudo of Tacitus, perished in connection with the martyrdom of Peter and Paul. He speaks of the manifold insults and torments of men, the terrible and unholy outrages upon women, in terms that answer exactly to the two phrases of Tacitus: pereuntibus addita ludibria and quaesitissimae poenae. Women, he implies, were, "like Dirce, fastened on the horns of bulls, or, after figuring as Danaides in the arena, were exposed to the attacks of wild beasts" (Hardy, op. cit., p. 72). [Drews on Poggio's interpolations of Tacitus] However, Drews is not content with merely ousting the passage from Tacitus, but undertakes to explain to his readers how it got there. It was, he conjectures, made up out of a similar passage read in the Chronicle of Sulpicius Severus (written about 407) by some clever forger, probably Poggio, who smuggled it into the text of Tacitus, "a writer whose text is full of interpolations." It is hardly necessary to inform an educated reader, firstly, that the text of Tacitus is recognized by all competent Latin scholars to be remarkably free from interpolations; secondly, that Severus merely abridged his account of Nero's persecution from the narrative he found in Tacitus, an author whom he frequently copied and imitated; thirdly, that Poggio, the supposed interpolator, lived in the fifteenth century, whereas our oldest MS. of this part of Tacitus is of the eleventh century; it is now in the Laurentian Library. I should advise Dr. Drews to stick to his javelin-man story, and not to venture on incursions into the field of classical philology. [Pliny's letter to Trajan] Having dispatched Josephus and Tacitus, and printed over their pages in capitals the titles The Silence of Josephus and The Silence of Tacitus, these authors, needless to say, have no difficulty with Pliny and Suetonius. The former, in his letter (No. 96) to Trajan, gives some particulars of the Christians of Bithynia, probably obtained from renegades. They asserted that the gist of their offence or error was that they were accustomed on a regularly recurring day to meet before dawn, and repeat in alternating chant among themselves a hymn to Christ as to a God; they also bound themselves by a holy oath not to commit any crime, neither theft, nor brigandage, nor adultery, and not to betray their word or deny a deposit when it was demanded. After this rite was over they had had the custom to break up their meeting, and to come together afresh later in the day to partake of a meal, which, however, was of an ordinary and innocent kind. In this repast we recognize the early eucharist at which Christians were commonly accused of devouring human flesh, as the Jews are accused by besotted fanatics of doing in Russia to-day, and by Mr. Robertson in ancient Jerusalem. Hence Pliny's proviso that the food they partook of was ordinary and innocent. The passage also shows that this eucharistic meal was not the earliest rite of the day, like the fasting communion of the modern Ritualist, but was held later in the day. Lastly, the qualification that they sang hymns to Christ as to a God, though to Pliny it conveyed no more than the phrase "as if to Apollo," or "as if to Aesculapius," clearly signifies that the person so honoured was or had been a human being. Had he been a Sun-god Saviour, the phrase would be hopelessly inept. This letter and Trajan's answer to it were penned about 110 A.D. Of this letter Professor W. B. Smith writes (p. 252) that in it "there is no implication, not even the slightest, touching the purely human reality of the Christ or Jesus." Let us suppose the letter had referred to the cult of Augustus Cæsar, and that we read in it of people who, by way of honouring his memory, met on certain days and sang a hymn to Augustus quasi deo, "as to a God." We know that the members of a college of Augustals did so meet in most cities of the Roman Empire. Well, would Mr. Smith contend in such a case that the letter carried no implication, not even the slightest, touching the purely human reality of the Augustus or Cæsar? Of course he would not. If this letter were the sole record in existence of early Christianity, we might perhaps hesitate about its implications; but it is in the characteristic Latin which no one, so far as we know, ever wrote, except the younger Pliny, and is accompanied by Trajan's answer, couched in an equally characteristic style. It is, moreover, but one link in a long chain, which as a whole attests and presupposes the reality of Jesus. Mr. Smith, however, does not seem quite sure of his ground, for in the next sentence he hints that after all Pliny's letter is not genuine. These writers are not the first to whom this letter has proved a pons asinorum. Semler began the attack on its genuineness in 1784; and others, who desired to eliminate all references to Christianity in early heathen writers, have, as J. B. Lightfoot has remarked (Apostolic Fathers, Pt. II, vol. i, p. 55), followed in his wake. Their objections do not merit serious refutation. [Evidence of Suetonius] There remains Suetonius, who in ch. xxv of his life of Claudius speaks of Messianic disturbances at Rome impulsore Chresto. Claudius reigned from 41-54, and the passage may possibly be an echo of the conflict, clearly delineated in Acts and Paulines between the Jews and the followers of the new Messiah. [37] Itacism or interchange of "e" and "i" being the commonest of corruptions in Greek and Latin MSS., we may fairly conjecture Christo in the source used by Suetonius, who wrote about the year 120. Christo, which means Messiah, is intelligible in relation to Jews, but not Chresto; and the two words were identical in pronunciation. Drews of course upholds Chresto, and in Tacitus would substitute for Christiani Chrestiani; for this there is indeed manuscript support, but it is gratuitous to argue as he does that the allusion is to Serapis or Osiris, who were called Chrestos "the good" by their votaries. He does not condescend to adduce any evidence to show that in that age or any other Chrestos, used absolutely, signified Osiris or Serapis; and there is no reason to suppose it ever had such a significance. He is on still more precarious ground when he surmises that Nero's victims at Rome were not followers of Christ, but of Serapis, and were called Chrestiani by the mob ironically, because of their vices. Here we begin to suspect that he is joking. Why should worshippers of Serapis have been regarded as specially vicious by the Roman mob? Jews and Christians were no doubt detested, because they could not join in any popular festivities or thanksgivings. But there was nothing to prevent votaries of Serapis or Osiris from doing so, nor is there any record of their being unpopular as a class. In his life of Nero, Suetonius, amid a number of brief notices, apparently taken from some annalistic work, includes the following: "The Christians were visited with condign punishments--a race of men professing a new and malefic superstition." On this passage I have commented above (p. 161). [Origin of the name "Christian"] Characteristically enough, Dr. Drews assumes, without a shadow of argument, that the famous text in Acts which says that the followers of Jesus were first called Christians in Antioch is an interpolation. It stands in the way of his new thesis that the Roman people called the followers of Serapis--who was Chrestos or "good"--Chrestiani, because they were precisely the contrary. [38] Tacitus does not say that Nero's victims were so called because of their vices. That is a gloss put on the text by Drews. We only learn (a) that they were hated by the mob for their vices, and (b) that the mob at that time called them Chrestiani. His use of the imperfect tense appellabat indicates that in his own day the same sect had come to be known under their proper appellation as Christiani. In A.D. 64, he implies, a Roman mob knew no better. CHAPTER VI THE ART OF CRITICISM [Repudiation by the partisans of non-historicity of Jesus of regular historical method] Let us pause here and try to frame some ideas of the methods of this new school which denies that Jesus ever lived:-- Firstly, they are all agreed that the method they would apply to all other figures in ancient history--for example, to Apollonius--shall not be used in connection with Jesus. They carelessly deride "the attempt of historical theologians to reach the historical nucleus of the Gospels by purely philological means" (The Witnesses, p. 129). "The process," writes Mr. Robertson, "of testing the Synoptic Gospels down to an apparent nucleus of primitive narrative" ... "this new position is one of retreat, and is not permanently tenable" (Christianity and Mythology, p. 284). If this be so, we had better abolish our chairs of history at the universities, and give up teaching it in the schools; for, in the absence of the camera and gramophone, this method is the only one we can use. When a Mommsen sets Polybius's, Livy's, and Plutarch's lives of Hannibal side by side and "tests them down to an apparent nucleus of primitive narrative," does Mr. Robertson take him as a text for a disquisition on "the psychological Resistance to Evidence"? If not, why does he forbid us to take the score or so of independent memories and records of the career of Jesus which we have in ancient literature between the years A.D. 50 and 120, and to try to sift them down? Why, without any evidence, should we rush to the conclusion that the figure on whom they jointly converge was a Sun-god, solar myth, or vegetation sprite? [New Testament literature taken en bloc] Secondly, we may note how this disinclination to sift sources and test documents prompts them to take en bloc sources and documents which arose separately and in succession. Yet it is not simple laziness which dictates to them this short and easy method of dealing with ancient documents. Rather they have inherited it from the old-fashioned orthodox teachers of a hundred years ago, who, convinced of the verbal inspiration of the Bible, forbade us to estimate one passage as evidence more highly than another. All the verses of the Bible were on a level, as also all the incidents, and to argue that one event might have happened, but not another, was rank blasphemy. All were equally certain, for inspiration is not given by measure. Their mantle has fallen on Mr. Robertson and his friends. All or none is their method; but, whereas all was equally certain, now all is equally myth. "A document," says (p. 159) the excellent work by MM. Langlois and Seignobos which I cited above, (still more a literary work) is not all of a piece; it is composed of a great number of independent statements, any one of which may be intentionally or unintentionally false, while the others are bonâ fide and accurate.... It is not, therefore, enough to examine a document as a whole; each of the statements in it must be examined separately; criticism is impossible without analysis. We have beautiful examples of such mixed criticism and analysis in the commentaries on the Synoptics of Wellhausen and Loisy, both of them Freethinkers in the best sense of the word. [Incapacity of this school to understand evolution of Christian ideas,] I have given several minor examples of the obstinacy with which the three writers I am criticizing shut their eyes to the gradual evolution of Christian ideas; they exhibit the same perversity in respect of the great development of Christological thought already traceable in the New Testament. Paul conceived of Jesus as a Jewish teacher elevated through his death and resurrection to the position of Messiah and Son of God. On earth he is still a merely human being, born naturally, and subject to the law--a weak man of flesh. Raised from the dead by the energy of the Spirit, he becomes future judge of mankind, and his gospel transcends all distinctions of Jew and Gentile, bondsman or free. In Mark he is still merely human; he is the son of Joseph and Mary, born and bred like their other sons and daughters. As a man he comes to John the Baptist, like others, to confess and repent of his sins, and wash them away in Jordan's holy stream. Not till then does the descent of the Spirit on him, as he goes up from the Jordan, confer a Messiahship on him, which his followers only recognize later on. Astounding miracles and prodigies, however, are already credited to him in this our earliest Gospel. In the non-Marcan document, or Q, so far as we can reconstruct it, he has become Messiah through baptism (supposing this section to have belonged to Q, and not to some other document used by Luke and Matthew); but few or no miracles [39] are as yet credited to him, and the document contained little except his teaching. His death has none of the importance assigned to it by Paul, and is not mentioned; his resurrection does not seem to have been heard of by the author of this document. In Matthew and Luke the figure before us is much the same as in Mark; but human traits, such as his mother's distrust of his mission, are effaced. We hear no more of his inability to heal those who did not believe in him, and we get in their early chapters hints of his miraculous birth. In John there is, indeed, no hint of such birth; but, on the other hand, the entire Gospel is here rewritten to suit a new conception of him as the divine, eternal Logos. Demonology tales are ruled out. His rôle as a Jewish Messiah, faithful to the law, has finally retired into the background, together with that tense expectation of the end of the world, of the final judgment and installation in Palestine of a renovated kingdom of David, which inspires the teaching and parables of the Synoptic Gospels, just as it inspired Philo, and the Apocalypse of the Fourth Esdras and other contemporary Jewish apocrypha. [especially in connection with the legend of Virgin Birth,] Now, in Mr. W. B. Smith's works this development of doctrine about Jesus, this succession of phases, is not only reversed, but, with singular perversity, turned upside down. Similarly, Mr. Robertson and Dr. Drews, in order to secure a favourable reception for their hypothesis that Jesus was a Sun-god, insist in the teeth of the evidence that the belief in the Virgin Birth was part and parcel of the earliest tradition. As a matter of fact, it was comparatively late, as the heortology or history of the feasts of the Church shows. Of specially Christian feasts, the first was the Sunday, which commemorated every week the Resurrection, and the hope of the Parousia, or Second Coming. The next was the Epiphany, on January 6, commemorative of the baptism when the Holy Spirit descended on Jesus and conferred Messiahship. This feast we cannot trace before the year 125 or 150, and then only among Basilidians; among Catholics hardly before 300. Just as the story of the Virgin Birth was the latest addition to evangelical tradition, so it was the latest of the dominical feasts; and not till 354 did it obtain separate recognition in Rome on December 25. Of the feast of the Annunciation and of the other feasts of the Virgin we first hear in the sixth and succeeding centuries. From this outline we can realize at how late a period the legend of the Virgin Birth influenced the mind of the Church at large; yet Mr. Robertson, to smooth the way for his "mythic" theory, pretends that it was the earliest of all Christian beliefs, and without a tittle of evidence invents a pre-Christian Saviour-Sun-god Joshua, born of a virgin, Miriam. The whole monstrous conception is a preposterous coinage of his brain, a figment unknown to anyone before himself and bristling with impossibilities. Witness the following passage (p. 284 of Christianity and Mythology), containing nearly as many baseless fancies as it contains words:-- The one tenable historic hypothesis left to us at this stage is that of a preliminary Jesus "B.C.," a vague cult-founder such as the Jesus ben Pandira of the Talmud, put to death for (perhaps anti-Judaic) teachings now lost; round whose movement there might have gradually clustered the survivals of an ancient solar or other worship of a Babe Joshua son of Miriam. Such is the gist of the speculations of Messrs. Drews and Robertson, as far removed from truth and reality as the Athanasian Creed and from sane criticism as the truculent buffooneries of the Futurists from genuine art. We have more than once criticized this tendency of Mr. Robertson to insist on the primitiveness of the Virgin Birth legend. He urges it throughout his volume, although here and there he seems to see the truth, as, e.g., on p. 189, where he remarks that "only the late Third Gospel tells the story" of Mary and Joseph going to Bethlehem to be taxed, and "that the narrative in Matthew" was "added late to the original composition, which obviously began at what is now the third chapter." If the legend was part of the earliest tradition, why does it figure for the first time in the late Third Gospel and in a late addition to the first? In another passage he assures us that chapters i and ii of Luke are "a late fabulous introduction." Clearly, his view is that, just in proportion as any part of the Gospels is late, the tradition it contains must be early; and he it is who talks about "the methodless subjectivism" of Dr. Pfleiderer, who, he says, "like Matthew Arnold, accepts what he likes" (p. 450). [and in connection with Schmiedel's "Pillars"] The same inability to distinguish what is early from what is late is shown by Mr. Robertson in his criticism of Dr. Schmiedel's "pillars"--i.e., the nine Gospel texts (seven of them in Mark)--"which cannot have been invented by believers in the godhood of Jesus, since they implicitly negate that godhood." Of these, one is Mark x, 17 ff., where Jesus uses--to one who had thrown himself at his feet with the words: "Good teacher, what shall I do to inherit eternal life?" (i.e., life in the kingdom to come)--the answer: "Why callest thou me good? No one is good, save one--to wit, God." Here many ancient sources intensify Jesus's refusal of a predicate which is God's alone; for they run: "Call thou me not good." This apart, the Second and Third Gospels may be said to agree in reading, "Good master," and, "Why callest thou me good?" In Matthew, however (xix, 16), we read as follows: "Behold, one came to him and said: Master, what good thing shall I do, that I may have eternal life? And he said unto him, Why askest thou me concerning that which is good? One there is who is good," etc. Now, it is a result of criticism universally accepted to-day that Matthew and Luke compiled their Gospels with Mark before them, and that any reading in which either of them agrees with Mark must be more original than the discrepant reading of a third. Here Matthew is the discrepant witness, and he has remodelled the text of Mark to suit the teaching which had established itself in the Church about A.D. 100 that Jesus was without sin. He accordingly makes Jesus reply as a Greek sophist might reply, and not as a Jewish rabbi; and, by omitting the predicate "good" before teacher, he turns the words, "One there is who is good," into nonsense. By adding it before "thing" he creates additional nonsense; for how could any but a good action merit eternal life? The epithet is here superfluous. Even then, if we were not sure on other grounds that the Marcan story is the only source of the Matthæan deformed text, we could be sure that it was, because in Mark we have simplicity and good sense, whereas in Matthew we have neither. Mr. Robertson, on an earlier page, has, indeed, done lip-service to the truth that Mark presents us with the earliest form of evangelical tradition; but here he betrays the fact that he has not really understood the position, nor grasped the grounds (set forth by me in Myth, Magic, and Morals) on which it rests. For he is ready to sacrifice it the moment it makes havoc of his "mythological" argument, and writes (p. 443): "On the score of simple likelihood, which has the stronger claim? Surely the original text in Matthew." Even if Matthew, Mark, and Luke were rival and independent texts, instead of the first and third being, as they demonstrably are, copies and paraphrases of Mark, the best--if not the only--criterion of originality would be such an agreement of two of them as Mark and Luke here present against Matthew. Mr. Robertson, with entire ignoratio elenchi, urges in favour of the originality of Matthew's variant the circumstance that the oldest MS. sources of that Gospel reproduce it. How could they fail to do so, supposing it to be due to the redactor or editor of Mark, who was traditionally, but falsely, identified with the apostle Matthew? If the reading of Mark be not original, how came Luke to copy it from him? The most obvious critical considerations are wasted on Mr. Robertson and his friends. [Schmiedel on the disbelief of Mary in her son] Dr. Schmiedel again draws attention to the narrative of how Jesus, at the beginning of his ministry, was declared by his own household to be out of his senses, and of how, in consequence, his mother and brethren followed him in order to put him under restraint. The story offended the first and third evangelists, and they partly omit it, partly obscure its drift. The fourth evangelist limits the disbelief to the brethren of Jesus. The whole narrative is in flagrant antagonism to the Birth stories in the early chapters of Matthew and Luke, and to the whole subsequent drift of Church tradition. Being gifted with common sense, Schmiedel argues that it must be true, because it could never have been invented. It, anyhow, makes for the historicity of Jesus. What has Mr. Robertson to say about it? He writes (p. 443): "Why should such a conception be more alien to Christian consciousness than, say, the story of the trial, scourging, and crucifixion?" Here he ignores the point at issue. In Christian tradition, whether early or late, it was not the mother and brethren of Jesus who tried and scourged and crucified him, but inimical Jews and pagans. The latter are at no time related to have received an announcement of his birth from an angel, as his mother was presently believed to have done. We have, therefore, every reason for averring that the conception or idea of his being flouted by his own mother and brethren was a thousand times more alien to Christian consciousness--at least, any time after A.D. 100--than that of his being flouted by a Sadducean priesthood and by Roman governors. Once the legend of the Virgin Birth had grown up, such a story could not have been either thought of or committed to writing in a Gospel. It is read in Mark, and must be what we call a bed-rock tradition. If Mr. Robertson cannot see that, he is hopeless. Did he not admit (p. 443) that it is "certainly an odd text," so revealing his inmost misgivings about it, we should think him so. [Jesus is not deified in the earliest documents, nor do they reveal a "cult" of him] The same vice of mixing up different phases of the Christian religion shows itself in the insistence of this school of critic that it was from the first a cult of a deified Jesus. Thus Mr. Smith writes (Ecce Deus) as follows (p. 6):-- We affirm that the worship of the one God under the name, aspect, or person of the Jesus, the Saviour, was the primitive and indefectible essence of the primitive teaching and propaganda. On the contrary, in the two basal documents, Mark and Q, no such worship is discernible. Jesus first comes on the scene as the humble son of Joseph and Mary to repent of his sins and purge them away in Baptism; he next takes up the preaching of the imprisoned John, which was merely that Jews should repent of their sins because the kingdom of God, involving a dissolution of the existing social and political order, was at hand. This was no divine rôle, and he is represented not as God, but only as the servant of God; for such in the Aramaic dialect of that age was the connotation of the title "Son of God." In Mark there is no sign of his deification, not even in the transfiguration scene; for in that he is merely the human Messiah attended by Elias and Moses. From a hundred early indicia we know that in the Semitic-speaking churches of the East he remained a human figure for centuries; and the Syrian Father Aphraat, as late as 336 in Persia, is careful to explain in his homilies that Jesus was only divine as Moses was, or as human kings are. It was not till the religion was diffused in a pagan medium in which gods had children by mortal women that the gross deification of Jesus emerged. The purport of these basal documents, moreover, is not to deify Jesus, but to establish as against the Jews that he was their promised Messiah and the central figure of the Messianic kingdom he preached. That figure, however, was never identified with Jehovah, but was only Jehovah's servant, anointed king and judge of Israel, restorer of Israel's damaged fortunes, fulfiller of her political ideals and hopes. Mr. Smith argues that Jesus was deified from the first because his name was so often invoked in exorcisms. He even makes the suggestion (p. 17) that the initial letter J of Jesus "must have powerfully suggested Jehovah to the Jewish consciousness." There is no evidence, and less likelihood, of any such thing. The name of Jesus was during his lifetime invoked against demons by exorcists who rejected his message; just as they used the names of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, so they were ready to exploit his powerful name; but neither Jews nor Christians ever confounded with Jehovah the names or personalities they thus invoked; any Jew in virtue of his birth and breeding would have regarded such a confusion of a man with his God as flat blasphemy. [Worship of a slain God no part of the earliest Christianity] Messrs. Robertson and Drews similarly insist that Jesus was from the first worshipped as a slain God. In the Gospel documents there is no sign of anything of the sort. It was Paul who first diffused the idea that the crucified Jesus was a victim slain for the redemption of human sins. We already have Philo proclaiming that the just man is the ransom of the many, so that there is no need to go to pagan circles, no need to go outside the pale of Greek Jews, of whom Paul was one, for the origin of the idea. He probably found it even in the teaching of Gamaliel, in which he was brought up. Mark asks no more of his readers than to attribute the Messiahship--a thoroughly human rôle--to his hero, Jesus of Nazareth. Nor does Matthew, who seeks at every turn to prove that the actions of Jesus reported by Mark were those which, according to the old prophets, a Messiah might be expected to perform. How can writers who end their record of Jesus by telling us how in the moment of death he cried, "My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?" realizing no doubt that all his expectations of the advent of God's kingdom were frustrated and set at naught; how, I say, can such writers have believed that Jesus was Jehovah? The idea is monstrous. The truth is these writers transport back into the first age of Christianity the ideas and beliefs of developed Catholicism, and are resolved that the first shall be last and the last first. They have no perspective, and no capacity for understanding the successive phases through which a primitive Messianism, at first thoroughly monotheistic and exclusively Jewish in outlook and ideals, gradually evolved itself, with the help of the Logos teaching, into the Athanasian cult of an eternal and consubstantial Son of God. [Abuse of the comparative method by this school of writers] Thirdly, these writers abuse the comparative method. Applied discreetly and rationally, this method helps us to trace myths and beliefs back to their homes and earlier forms. Thus M. Emmanuel Cosquin (in Romania; Paris, 1912) takes the story of the cat and the candle, and traces out its ramifications in the mediæval literature and modern folklore of Europe, and outside Europe, in the legends of the Pendjab, of Cashmir, Bengal, Ceylon, Tibet, Tunisia, Annam, and elsewhere. But the theme is always sufficiently like itself to be really recognizable in the various folklore frames in which it is found encased. The old philologists saw in the most superficial resemblance of sound a reason for connecting words in different languages. They never asked themselves how a word got out of Hebrew, say, into Greek, or out of Greek into Mexican. Volumes were filled with these haphazard etymologies, and the idea of the classification of languages into great connected families only slowly made its way among us in the last century. I have pointed out that in regard to names Messrs. Drews and Robertson are still in this prephilological stage of inquiry; as regards myths or stories of incident, they are wholly immersed in it. [They fit anything on to anything no matter how ineptly,] They never trouble themselves to make sure that the stories they connect bear any real resemblance to one another. For example, what have the Zodiacal signs and the Apostles of Jesus in common except the number twelve? As if number was not the most superficial of attributes, the least characteristic and essential. The scene of the Gospel is laid in Judæa, where from remote antiquity the Jews had classed themselves in twelve tribes. Is it not more likely that this suggested the twelve missionaries sent out by Jesus to announce the coming kingdom than the twelve signs of the Zodiac? Even if the story of the Twelve be legendary, need we go outside Judaism for our explanation of its origin? What, again, have the three Maries in common with the Greek Moirai except the number three and a delusive community of sound? Yet Mr. Robertson insists that the three Maries at the tomb of Jesus were suggested by the Moirai, because these, "as goddesses of birth and death, naturally figured in many artistic presentations of religious death scenes." As a matter of fact, the representation of the Parcae or Fates in connection with death is rare except on Roman sarcophagi, mostly of later date than the Gospel story. And when they are so found, they represent, not women bringing spices for the corpse or mourning for the dead, but the forces, often thought of as blind and therefore represented as veiled, which govern the events of the world, including birth, life and death. [and forget the innate hostility of Jews to Paganism] There was, therefore, nothing in the Moirai to suggest the three Maries at the tomb; nor is it credible that the Hebrew Christists, given as they must have been to monotheism and detesting all statuary, pagan or other, would have chosen their literary motives from such a source. Where could they see such statuary in or about Jerusalem? It is notorious that the very presence of a symbolic eagle used as a military standard was enough to create an émeute in Jerusalem. The scheme of the emperor Caligula or Caius to set up his statue in Jerusalem in 39-40 A.D. provoked a movement of revolt throughout Palestine, with which the Jews of Egypt and elsewhere were in full sympathy. A deputation headed by Philo of Alexandria went to Rome to supplicate the emperor not to goad the entire race to frenzy. In the magnificent statues which surrounded him on the Parthenon hill, Paul could see nothing but idols, monuments of an age of superstition and ignorance which God had mercifully overlooked. [40] The hostility of the Jews to all pagan art and sculpture was as great as that of Mohammedans to-day. Yet Mr. Robertson asks us to believe (p. 327) that the Gospel myths, as he assumes them to be, are "evolved from scenes in pagan art." On the top of that we afterwards learn from him that it was the Jewish high priest with legalistic leanings that presided over the Christists or Jesuists. Imagine such a high priest's feelings when he beheld his "secret society" evolving their system under such an inspiration as Mr. Robertson outlines in the following canons of criticism:-- As we have seen and shall see throughout this investigation, the Christian system is a patchwork of a hundred suggestions drawn from pagan art and ritual usage (p. 305). Christism borrowed myths of all kinds from paganism (p. xii). ... the whole Christian legend, in its present terminology, is demonstrably an adaptation of a mass of pre-Christian myths (p. 136). What a budget of mutually destructive paradoxes; and to crown them all Mr. Robertson claims in his introduction (p. xxii) that the method of his treatise is in general more "positive," less a priori, more obedient to scientific canons than that of the previous critics ... who have reached similar anti-traditionalist results. It substitutes an anthropological basis, in terms of the concrete phenomena of mythology, for a pseudo-philosophical presupposition. [Credulity attends hypercriticism] Fourthly, it is essential to note the childish, all-embracing, and overwhelming credulity of these writers. To them applies in its full force the paragraph in which MM. Langlois and Seignobos describe the perils which beset hypercriticism (p. 131, op. cit.):-- The excess of criticism, just as much as the crudest ignorance, leads to error. It consists in the application of critical canons to cases outside their jurisdiction. It is related to criticism as logic-chopping is to logic. There are persons who scent enigmas everywhere, even where there are none. They take perfectly clear texts and subtilize on them till they make them doubtful, under the pretext of freeing them from imaginary corruptions. They discover traces of forgery in authentic documents. A strange state of mind! By constantly guarding against the instinct of credulity they come to suspect everything. For these writers, in their anxiety to be original and new, see fit to discard every position that earlier historians, like Mommsen, Gibbon, Bury, Montefiore--not to mention Christian scholars--have accepted as beyond doubt. Their temper is that of the Bacon-Shakesperians; and the plainest, simplest, most straightforward texts figure in their imaginations as a laborious series of charades, rebuses, and cryptograms. That Jesus never existed is not really the final conclusion of their researches, but an initial unproved assumption. In order to get rid of him, they feign, without any evidence of it, a Jewish secret society under the patronage of the Jewish High Priest, that existed in Jerusalem well down into the Christian era. This society kept up the worship of an old Palestinian and Ephraimitic Sun-god and Saviour, named Joshua, son of a virgin, Miriam. Where is the proof that such a god was ever heard of in ancient Palestine, either early or late, or that such a cult ever existed? There is none. It is the emptiest and wildest of hypotheses; yet we are asked to accept it in place of the historicity of Jesus. What, again, do we know of secret societies in Jerusalem? Josephus and Philo knew of none. For the Therapeutæ, far from affecting secrecy, were anxious to diffuse their discipline and lore even among the Hellenes, while the Essenes had nothing secret save the names of the angels they invoked in spells. They were a well-known sect, and so numerous that a gate of Jerusalem was called the Essene Gate, because they so often came in and went forth by it. Were the Pharisees and Sadducees, the Scribes, or the Sicarii or zealots, secret sects? We know they were not. But is it likely that a sect composed in the main of Jews, and patronized, as Mr. Robertson argues, by the High Priest, would have kept up in the very heart of monotheistic Judaism a cult of Sun-gods and Vegetation-spirits? Could they there have given themselves up to the study of pagan statuary, art, and ritual dramas? What possible connection is there between the naïve picture of Hebrew Messianism we have in the Synoptic Gospels and the hurly-burly, the tagrag and bobtail of pagan mythologies which Mr. Robertson and his henchman Drews rake together pell-mell in their pretentious volumes? How did all this paganism abut in a Messianic society which reverenced the Old Testament for its sacred scriptures, which for long frequented the Jewish Temple, took over the feasts and fasts of Judaism, modelled its prayers on those of the Synagogue, cherished in its eastern branches the practice of circumcision? [Mr. Robertson accepts the historicity of Jesus after all] After hundreds of pages devoted to the task of evaporating Jesus into a Solar or Vegetation-god, and all the personages we meet in the Gospels into zodiacal signs or pagan demigods, Mr. Robertson, as we have noticed above, finds himself, after all, confronted with the same personages in Paul's Epistles. There they are too real even for Mr. Robertson to dissipate them into cloud-forms, and too numerous to be cut out wholesale. He feels that, if all Paul's allusions to the crucified Jesus are to be got rid of as interpolations, then no Pauline Epistles will remain. He cuts out, indeed, all he can, but there is a residuum of reality. To identify Paul's Jesus with the Jesus of the Gospels is too humdrum and obvious a course for him. So common-sense and commonplace a scheme does not suit his subtle intelligence; moreover, such an identification would upset the hundreds of pages in which he has proved that Jesus of Nazareth and all his accessories are literary symbols employed by the Jewish "Jesuists" to disguise their pagan art and myths. Accordingly, he asks us to believe that Paul's Jesus is a certain Jesus Ben Pandira, stoned to death a hundred years earlier. This Jesus is a vague figure fished up out of the Talmud; but, on examination, we found Mr. Robertson's choice of him as an alias for Paul's Jesus to be most unfortunate, for competent Talmudic scholars are agreed that Jesus Ben Pandira in the Talmud was no other than Jesus of Nazareth in the Gospels. Jesus most unkindly insists on being in at his own death, [41] in spite of all Mr. Robertson can say or do; and his house of cards is crowned with the discovery that the apostles whom Paul knew--not being identical with the signs of the Zodiac, like those of the Gospels--were no other than the twelve apostles of the Jewish High Priest, and that they were the authors of the lately-discovered "Teaching of the Apostles." He is very contemptuous for other early Christian books which affect apostolic authorship in their titles, but falls a ready victim to the relatively late and anonymous editor of this "teaching," who to give it vogue entitled it "The Teaching of the Lord by the Twelve Apostles to the Gentiles." "The Jesuist sect," he writes (p. 345), "founded on it (the Didaché) the Christian myth of the Twelve Apostles of Jesus." Everywhere else in his books he has argued that the "myth" in question was founded on the signs of the Zodiac. Why give up at the eleventh hour the astral explanation for an utterly different one? I may add that in the body of the Didaché the Twelve are nowhere alluded to; that it must be a much later document than the Gospels and Paulines, since it quotes them in scores of passages; and that the interpolation of the title, with a reference to the Twelve Apostles, was a literary trick scarcely older than the fourth century, long before which age the Pauline account of the resurrection was cited by a score of Christian writers. Lastly, we are fain to inquire of Mr. Robertson with whom he identifies "the Lord" of the above title--with the Jewish High Priest, or with Jesus Ben Pandira, or with the Sun-God-Saviour Joshua. [Theory of interpolations] I have given many examples of the tendency of all these authors to condemn as an interpolation any text which contradicts their hypotheses. There is only one error worse than that of treating seriously documents which are no documents at all. It is that of the man who cannot recognize documents when he has got them. It is well, of course, to weigh sources, and the critical investigation of authorship lies at the basis of all true history. But, as the authors above cited justly remark (p. 99):-- We must not abuse it. The extreme of distrust in these matters is almost as mischievous as the extreme of credulity. Père Hardouin, who attributed the works of Virgil and Horace to medieval monks, was every whit as ridiculous as the victim of Vrain-Lucas. It is an abuse of the methods of this species of criticism to apply them, as has been done, indiscriminately, for the mere pleasure of it. The bunglers who have used this species of criticism to brand as spurious perfectly genuine documents, such as the writings of Hroswitha, the Ligurinus, and the bull unam sanctam, or to establish imaginary filiations between certain annals, on the strength of superficial indications, would have discredited criticism before now, if that had been possible. It is unhappily easier to discredit criticism in the realm of ecclesiastical than of secular history; and this school of writers are doing their best to harm the cause of true Rationalism. They only afford amusement to the obscurantists of orthodoxy, and render doubly difficult the task of those who seek to win people over to a common-sense and historical envisagement, unencumbered by tradition and superstition, of the problems of early Christianity. [Professor Smith's monotheistic cult] Lastly, it is a fact deserving of notice that the genesis of Christianity as these authors present it is much more mysterious and obscure than before. Their explanation needs explaining. What, we must ask, was the motive and end in view of the adherents of the pre-Christian Jesus or Joshua in writing the Gospels and bringing down their God to earth, so humanizing in a story their divine myth? Let Professor W. B. Smith speak: "What was the essence, the central idea and active principle, of the cult itself?" Here he means the cult of the pre-Christian Christ that invented the Gospels and diffused them on the market place. "To this latter," he continues, "we answer directly and immediately: It was a Protest against idolatry; it was a Crusade for monotheism." And yet he cannot adduce a single text from the Gospels--not even from the Fourth--which betrays on the part of Jesus, their central figure, any such crusading spirit. Jesus everywhere assumes his hearers to be monotheists like himself--he speaks as a Jew to Jews--and perpetually reminds them of their Father in heaven. Thus Matt. vi, 8: "Your Father knoweth what things ye have need of"; Matt. v, 48: "Ye therefore shall be perfect, as your heavenly Father is perfect." The monotheism of those who stood around the teacher is ever taken for granted by the evangelists, and in all the precepts of Jesus not one can be adduced that is aimed at the sins of polytheism and idolatry. His message lies in a far different region. It is the immediate advent of the Messianic kingdom, and the need of repentance ere it come. Only when Paul undertakes to bear this message to pagans outside the pale of Judaism do we get teaching directed against idolatry; and in his Epistles such precepts have a second place, the first being reserved to the preaching of the coming kingdom and of the redemption of the world by the merits of the crucified and risen Messiah, the man Jesus. Most of Paul's letters read as if those for whom he wrote them were already proselytes familiar with the Jewish scriptures. [His great Oriental cryptogram] Such is Mr. Smith's fundamental assumption, and it is baseless. On it he bases his next great hypothesis of "the primitive secrecy of the Jesus cult," which "was maintained in some measure for many years--for generations even" (p. 45). "Why," he asks, "was this Jesus cult originally secret, and expressed in such guarded parabolic terms as made it unintelligible to the multitude?" The reason lay in the fact that "it was exactly to save the pagan multitude from idolatry that Jesus came into the world" (p. 38). Here the phrase "Jesus came into the world," like all else he did or suffered, is, of course, to be understood in a Pickwickian sense, for he never came into the world at all. The Gospels are not only a romance concocted by "such students of religion as the first Christians were" (p. 65), and inspired by their study of Plato, [42] and of the best elements in ancient mythology; they are a romance throughout--an allegory of a secret pre-Christian Nazarene society and of its secret cult (p. 34). Of this society, he tells us, we know nothing; esoterism and cult secrecy were its chief interests; the "silence of the Christians about it was intentional," [43] and, except for the special revelation vouchsafed the other day to Professor W. B. Smith, it would have remained for ever unknown, and Christianity for ever enigmatic. In accordance with this postulate of esoterism and cult secrecy among the pre-Christian Nazarenes, who subsequently revealed themselves to the world as the Christian Church, though even then they "maintained for generations the secrecy [44] of their Jesus cult," the Gospels, as I said, are an allegory or a charade. Their prima facie meaning is never the true one, never more than symbolic of a moral and spiritual undersense such as old allegorists like Philo and Origen loved to discover in the Bible. Thus, as we saw above, when Jesus is reported to have cast out of the Jews who thronged around him devils of blindness, deafness, lameness, leprosy, death, what is really intended is that he argued pagans out of their polytheism. "It was spiritual maladies, and only spiritual, that he was healing" (p. 38). We ask of Mr. Smith, why was so much mystification necessary? We are only told that "it was in the main a prudential measure, well enough justified, but intended to be only temporary" (p. 39). What exact risks they were to shun which the sect kept itself secret, and only spake in far-fetched allegory, Mr. Smith does not inform us. Is he, too, afraid of being regarded as a "tell-tale" (p. 48)? [Professor Smith resolves all the New Testament as symbolic and allegorical] As with the exorcisms, so with all else told of Jesus. None of it really happened. As he never lived, so he never died. His human life and death are an allegory of the spiritual cult and mysteries which the pre-Christian Nazarenes and their descendants, the Christians, so jealously and for so long guarded in silence. If he never lived, then he never taught, not even in parables. By consequence the entire record of his parables, still more of his having chosen the parable as his medium of instruction in order to veil his real meaning from his audience, is all moonshine. Here, as elsewhere, the Gospel text does not mean what it says, but is itself only a Nazarene parable conveying, or rather concealing, a Nazarene secret--what sort of secret no one, save Professor Smith, the self-appointed revealer of their mysterious lore, can tell, and he is silent on the point. On Mr. Smith's premisses, then, we cannot rely on the Gospels to inform us of anything historical, and, so far as we can follow him, we must, if we would discern through them the mind of their Nazarene authors, take them upside down. We must discern a pagan medium and homilies against polytheism in discourses addressed to monotheistic Jews who needed no warnings against idolatry; we must also read the stories of Jesus healing paralytics and demoniacs as secret and disguised polemics against idolatry. [Yet claims, where it suits him, to treat it as historical narrative] But here mark Professor Smith's inconsistency. Why is he sure that the Nazarenes, and after them the earliest Christians, were a secret society with a secret cult? They must have been so, he argues, because Jesus taught in parables. "The primitive esoterism," he tells us, "is admittedly present in Mark iv, 11, 12, 33, 34." These verses begin thus: "And he said unto them, unto you is given the mystery of the kingdom of heaven: but unto them that are without, all things are done in parables." Now, Mr. Smith's postulate is that he--i.e., Jesus of Nazareth--never lived, and so never said anything to anyone. How, then, can he appeal to what he said to prove that there was a pre-Christian Jesus or Joshua sect, itself secret with a cult and ritual which its members were ever on their guard not to reveal? Surely he drops here into two assumptions which he has discarded ab initio: first, that there is a core of real history in the Gospels; and, second, that the Gospel can mean what it says, and that its Nazarene author is here not allegorizing, as he usually did. [His theory contradicts itself] But even if we allow Mr. Smith to break with his premisses wherever he needs to do so in order to substantiate them, do these verses of Mark support his hypothesis of a sect which kept itself, its rites, and its teaching secret? I admit that it was pretty successful when it veiled its anti-idolatrous teaching under the outward form of demonological anecdotes, and wrote Jews when it meant Pagans and Polytheists. But in Mark iv, 34, we are told that "to his own disciples Jesus privately expounded all things" after he had with many parables spoken the word to such as "were able to hear it." It appears, then, that for all their love of secrecy, and in spite of all their precautions against "tell-tale" writing, the Nazarenes on occasions went out of their way, in their allegorical romance of their God Joshua, to inform all who may read it what their parables and allegories meant; for in it Jesus sits down and expounds to the reader over some twenty-four verses (verses 10-34) the inner meaning of the parables which he had just addressed to the multitude. What on earth were the Nazarenes doing to publish a Gospel like this, and so let the cat out of the bag? Instead of keeping their secret they were proclaiming it on the housetops. Again, if the Gospels are to such an extent merely allegorical, that we must not assume their authors to have believed that Jesus ever lived, how can we possibly rely on them for information about such an obscure matter as a secret and esoteric pre-Christian Nazarene sect? We can only be sure that the evangelists never under any circumstances meant what they said; yet Mr. Smith, in defiance of all his postulates, writes, p. 40, as follows: "On the basis, then, of this passage alone [i.e., Mark iv, 10-34] we may confidently affirm the primitive secrecy of the Jesus cult." Even if the passage rightly yielded the sense he tries to extort from it, how can we be sure that that sense is not, like the rest of the Gospel, an allegory of something else? The other passage of the Gospels, Matthew x, 26, 27, to which, with like inconsistency, Mr. Smith appeals by way of showing that the Nazarenes of set purpose hid their light under a bushel, does not bear the interpretation he puts on it. It runs thus: "Fear them not therefore: for naught is covered that shall not be revealed, and hidden that shall not be known. What I tell you in the darkness, speak ye on the housetops; and what ye hear in the ear, proclaim upon the housetops." [Absence of esoterism about Jesus's teaching] The reasonable interpretation of the above is that Jesus, being in possession, as he thought, of a special understanding, perhaps revelation, of the true nature of the Messianic kingdom, and convinced of its near approach, instructed his immediate disciples in privacy concerning it in order that they might carry the message up and down the land to the children of Israel. He therefore exhorts them not to be silent from fear of the Jews, who accused him of being possessed of a devil, somewhat as his own mother and brethren accused him of being an exalté and beside himself. No, they were to cast aside all apprehensions; they must go, not to the supercilious Pharisees or to the comfortable priests who battened on the people, still less to Gentiles and Samaritans, who had no part in the promises made to Israel, but to the lost sheep of the house of Israel, and they must preach as they went, saying, The kingdom of heaven is at hand. They were to heal the sick, raise the dead, cleanse the lepers, cast out devils, and in general give freely the good tidings which freely they had received from their Master, and he from John the Baptist. If they so acted, discarding all timidity, then no human repression, no human time-serving, could prevent the spread of the good news. What was now hidden from the poor and ignorant among his compatriots would henceforth, thanks to the courage and devotedness of his emissaries, be made known to them; what was now covered, be revealed. Such is the context of "this remarkable deliverance," as Mr. Smith terms it; and nothing in all the New Testament savours less than it does of a secret cult of mysterious sectaries, waiting for Mr. Smith to manifest their arcana to us twenty centuries later. Here, as everywhere else in the New Testament, he has discovered a monstrous mare's nest; has banished the only possible and obvious interpretation, in order to substitute a chimera of his own. [It was not a protest against paganism] Mr. Smith credits his hypothetical pre-Christian Nazarenes with an ambition and anxiety to purge away the errors of mankind. The "essence, the central idea, and active principle of the cult itself," he tells us (p. 45), "was a protest against Idolatry, a crusade for monotheism." "The fact of the primitive worship of Jesus and the fact of the primitive mission to all the Gentiles are the two cardinal facts of Proto-Christianity" (p. xvii). Why on earth, then, in concocting that pronunciamento of their cult which we call the Gospels, did these Nazarenes represent the Jesus or Joshua God, even in allegory, as warning his disciples on no account to disseminate his cult among Gentiles and Samaritans, but only among Jews, who were notoriously monotheists and bitterly hostile to every form of idolatry? Why carry coals to Newcastle on so huge a scale? [Why turn God Jeshua into a man at all] And granted that the Nazarenes, in their anxiety to be parabolical and misunderstood of their readers, wrote Jews when they meant Pagans, was it necessary in the interests of their monotheistic crusade to nickname their One God Jesus, to represent him as a man and a carpenter, with brothers and sisters, and a mother that did not believe in him; as a man who was a Jew with the prejudices of a Jew, a man circumcised and insisting that he came not to destroy the law of Moses, but to fulfil it; as a man who was born like other men of a human father and mother; was crucified, dead and buried; whose disciples and Galilean companions, when in the first flush of their grief they heard from Mary Magdalene the strange story of his first appearing to her after death, still "disbelieved"? [45] [The comfort of the initial "J"] These Nazarenes were, in their quality of "students of religion" (p. 65), intent on converting the world from polytheism. Why, then, did they call their sublime deity by the name of Jesus? "The word Jesus itself," writes Mr. Smith, also made special appeal to the Jewish consciousness, for it was practically identical with their own Jeshua, now understood by most to mean strictly Jah-help, but easily confounded with a similar J'shu'ah, meaning Deliverance, Saviour, Witness, Matthew i, 21. Moreover, the initial letter J, so often representing Jah in Hebrew words, must have powerfully suggested Jehovah to the Jewish consciousness. But what Jew of the first century, however fond of the tales about Joshua which he read in his scriptures, was ever minded to substitute his name for that of Jehovah merely because it began with a J and has been explained by twentieth-century Hebraists as meaning Jah-help? The idea is exquisitely humorous. While they were about it why did the Nazarenes not adopt the name Immanuel, which in that allegorical romance (which from Mr. Smith we know to be the character of Matthew's Gospel) they fished up out of the Hebrew prophet Isaiah? If Jehovah was not good enough for them, Immanuel was surely better than the name Jeshua, with its associations of pillage and murder. But apart from these considerations, as the name Jeshua is Hebrew, it follows that the secret sectaries who had this cult must have been of a Jewish cast. But, if so, what Jew, we ask, ever heard of a God called Jeshua or Joshua? As I have already pointed out, the very memory of such a God, if there ever was one, perished long before the Book of Joshua could have been written. Like the gods Daoud and Joseph, with whom writers of this class seek to conjure our wits out of our heads, a god Joshua is a mere preposterous superfetation of a disordered imagination. "There were abundant reasons," writes Mr. Smith (p. 16), why the name Jesus should be the Aaron's rod to swallow up all other designations. Its meaning, which was felt to be Saviour, was grand, comforting, uplifting. The notion of the world-Saviour thrust its roots into the loam of the remotest antiquity. [Supposed confusion of Jesus with iesomai] One regrets to have to criticize such dithyrambic outpourings of Mr. Smith's heart. But, granted there was a widespread expectation, such as Suetonius records, of Messiahs who were to issue from Judæa and conquer all the world, who ever heard of the name Joshua being assigned in advance to one of them? Who ever in that age felt the name Jesus to be grand, comforting, uplifting? Is not Mr. Smith attributing his own feelings, as he sat in a Sunday school, to Jews and Gentiles of the first century? I add Gentiles, for he pretends that the name Jesus appealed to the Greek consciousness also as a derivative of the Ionic future Iêsomai iesomai = I will heal. Now what Christian writer ever made this rapprochement? Not a single one. Surely, if we are minded to argue the man Jesus out of existence, we ought to have a vera causa to put in his place, a belief, or, if we like it better, a myth which was really believed, and is known to have entered deeply into the lives and consciences of men? It is true that the idea of a Messiah did so enter, but not in the form in which Mr. Smith loves to conceive it. The Messiah was such a human figure as Suetonius had heard of; he was a man who should, as we read in Acts, restore the kingdom of David. "Lord, dost Thou at this time restore the kingdom to Israel?" is the question the apostles are said (Acts i, 7) to have put to Jesus as soon as his apparitions before them had revived the Messianic hopes which his death had so woefully dashed. The incident is probably apocryphal, yet its presence in the narrative illustrates what a Messiah was then expected by Christians to achieve. Judas Maccabæus, Cyrus, Bar Cochba, Judas of Galilee--these and other heroes of Israel had the quality of Messiahs. They were all men, and not myths. The suggestion, then, that the name Jesus was one to conjure with is idle and baseless; and if his name had been Obadiah or Nathaniel, Professor Smith would have been equally ready to prove that these were attractive names, bound to triumph and "swallow up all other designations." He only pitches on the name of Jesus for his pre-Christian Saviour-god because he finds it in the Gospels; but inasmuch as he sees in them mere allegorical romances, entirely unhistorical and having no root in facts, there is no reason for adopting from them one name more than another. How does he know that the appellation Jesus is not as much of a Nazarene fiction as he holds every other name and person and incident to be which the Gospels contain? Is it not more probable that this highly secretive sect, with their horror of "tell-tale," would keep secret the name of their Saviour-god, as the Essenes kept secret the names of their patron angels? The truth is, even Mr. Smith cannot quite divest himself of the idea that there is some historical basis for the Gospels; otherwise he would not have turned to them for the name of his Saviour-god. [Mr. Smith denies all historicity to Acts and Epistles] More consistently, however, than Mr. Robertson, Professor Smith denies that there are any allusions to the real Jesus in the rest of the New Testament. The Acts and Epistles do not, he says (p. 23), "recognize at all the life of Jesus as a man," though "their general tenour gives great value to the death of Jesus as a God." This is a new reading of the documents in question, for the Pauline conviction was that Jesus had been crucified and died as a man, and, being raised up from death by the Spirit, had been promoted to be, what he was antenatally, a super-human or angelic figure [46]--a Christ or Messiah, who was to come again on earth and judge mankind. Of his mere humanity while on this earth, and as long as he was associating with human disciples, Paul entertained no doubts. How could he, inasmuch as he had stayed with them at Jerusalem? Mr. Robertson, as we saw, although he dissipates Jesus in the Gospels into a Sun-God-Saviour Joshua, nevertheless is so impressed by the Pauline "references to a crucified Jesus" (p. 364) that he resuscitates Jesus Ben Pandira out of the limbo of the Talmud. Perhaps he strains at a gnat after swallowing a camel. Anyhow, I will leave Mr. Smith to settle accounts with him, and turn to a fresh point, which has not occurred to either of them. [Contrast of Christian belief in Jesus with cult of Adonis or Osiris] It is this. Adonis and Osiris were never regarded by their votaries as having been human beings that had recently lived and died on the face of this earth. The Christians, in strong contrast with them and with all other pagans ever heard of, did so regard Jesus from first to last. Why so, when they knew that from the first he was a God and up in heaven? Why has the fact of his unreality, as these writers argue it, left no trace of itself in Christian tradition and literature? According to this new school of critics, the Nazarenes, when they wrote down the Gospels, knew perfectly well that Jesus was a figment, and had never lived at all. And yet we never get a hint that he was only a myth, and that the New Testament is a gigantic fumisterie. Why so? Why from the very first did the followers of Jesus entertain what Mr. Smith denounces as "an a priori concept of the Jesus" (p. 35)? Why, in other words, were they convinced from the beginning that he was a man of flesh and blood, who had lived on earth among them? The "early secrecy," the "esoterism of the primitive cult" (p. 39), says Mr. Smith, "was intended to be only temporary." If so, why could not the Nazarenes, primarily interested as they were, not in lies and bogus, but in disseminating their lofty monotheism, have thrown off the disguise some time or other, and explained to their spiritual children that the intensely concrete life of Jesus which they had published in our Gospel of Mark meant nothing; that it was all an allegory, and no more, of a Saviour-god, who had never existed as a human being, nor even as the docetic phantasmagoria of the Gnostic? "Something sealed the lips of that (Nazarene) evangelist," and the Nazarenes have kept their secret so well through the ages that it has been reserved for Mr. Smith first to pierce the veil and unlock their mystery. He it is who has at last discovered that "in proto-Mark we behold the manifest God" (p. 24). Now what possessed the Nazarenes so firmly to impose on the world through the Gospels an erroneous view of their God, that for 2,000 years not only their spiritual offspring, the Christians, but Jews and pagans as well, have believed him to have lived on earth, a man of flesh and blood and of like passions with themselves? Was the deception necessary? The votaries of Osiris and Adonis were never so tricked. The adherents of the Augustalian cult, the pious Greeks and Syrians who thronged to be healed of their diseases at the shrines of Apollonius, believed, of course, that their patron saints and gods had lived, prior to their apotheosis, upon earth; and so they had. But a follower of Osiris or Æsculapius would have opened his eyes wide with astonishment if you asked him to believe that his Saviour had died only the other day in Judæa. Not so a Christian; for the Nazarene monotheists had so thoroughly fooled him with their Gospels that he was ready to supply you with dates and pedigrees and all sorts of other details about his Saviour's personal history. And yet all the time, had he only known it, his religion laboured under the same initial disadvantage as the cult of Osiris or Æsculapius--that, namely, of its founder never having lived at all. What, then, did "such students of religion, as the first Christians were" (Ecce Deus, p. 65), imagine was to be gained by hood-winking their descendants for the long centuries which have intervened between them and the advent of Professor W. B. Smith? CHAPTER VII DR. JENSEN [Babylonian influence on Greek religion slight;] The three writers whose views I have so far considered agree in denying that Jesus was a real historical personage; but their agreement extends no further, for the Jesus legend is the precipitate, according to Professor W. B. Smith, of a monotheistic propaganda; according to Mr. Robertson, of a movement mainly idolatrous, polytheistic, and pagan. There exists in Germany, however, a third school of denial, which sees in the Jesus story a duplicate of the ancient Babylonian Gilgamesch legend. The more extreme writers of this school have endeavoured to show that not only the Hebrews, but the Greeks as well, derived their religious myths and rites from ancient Babylon; and their general hypothesis has on that account been nicknamed Pan-Babylonismus. This is not the place to criticize the use made of old Babylonian mythology in explanation of old Greek religion, though I do well to point out that the best students of the latter--for example, Dr. Farnell--confine the indebtedness of the Greeks to very narrow limits. [on Hebrew religion more important;] The case of the Hebrew scriptures and religion stands on different ground; for the Jews were Semites, and their myths of creation and of the origin and early history of man are, by the admission even of orthodox divines of to-day, largely borrowed from the more ancient civilization of Babylon. Thus Heinrich Zimmern (art. "Deluge," in Encyclopædia Biblica) writes: "Of all the parallel traditions of a deluge, the Babylonian is undeniably the most important, because the points of contact between it and the Hebrew story are so striking that the view of the dependence of one of the two on the other is directly suggested even to the most cautious of students." [yet a Jew may have possessed some imagination of his own] This undoubted occurrence of Babylonian myths in the Book of Genesis has provided some less critical and cautious cuneiform scholars with a clue, as they imagine, to the entire contents of the Bible from beginning to end. It is as if the Jews, all through their literary history of a thousand years, could not possibly have invented any myths of their own, still less have picked a few up elsewhere than in Babylon. Accordingly, in a volume of 1,030 enormous pages, P. Jensen has undertaken to show [47] that the New Testament, no less than the Old, was derived from this single well-spring. Moses and Aaron, Joshua, Jeroboam, Rehoboam, Hadad, Jacob and Esau, Saul, David and Jonathan, Joseph and his brethren, Potiphar, Rachel and Leah, Laban, Zipporah, Miriam sister of Moses, Dinah, Simeon and Levi, Jethro and the Gibeonites and Sichemites, Sarah and Hagar, [Gilgamesch, Eabani, and the holy harlot, protagonists of the entire Old Testament] Abraham and Isaac, Samson, Uriah and Nathan, Naboth, Elijah and Elisha, Naaman, Benhadad and Hazael, Gideon, Jerubbaal, Abimelech, Jephthah, Tobit, Jehu, and pretty well any other personage in the Old Testament, are duplicates, according to him, of Gilgamesch or his companion the shepherd Eabani (son of Ea), or of the Hierodule or sacred prostitute, and of a few more leading figures in the Babylonian epic. There is hardly a story in the whole of Jewish literature which is not, according to Jensen, an echo of the Gilgamesch legend; and every personage, every incident, is freely manipulated to make them fit this Procrustean bed. No combinations of elements separated in the Biblical texts, no separations of elements united therein, no recasting of the fabric of a narrative, no modifications of any kind, are so violent as to deter Dr. Jensen. At the top of every page is an abstract of its argument, usually of this type: "Der Hirte Eabani, die Hierodule und Gilgamesch. Der Hirte Moses, sein Weib und Aaron." In other words, as Moses was one shepherd and Eabani another, Moses is no other than Eabani. As there is a sacred prostitute in the Gilgamesch story, and a wife in the legend of Moses, therefore wife and prostitute are one and the same. As Gilgamesch was companion of Eabani, and Aaron of Moses, therefore Aaron was an alias of Gilgamesch. Dr. Jensen is quite content with points of contact between the stories so few and slight as the above, and pursues this sort of loose argument over a thousand pages. Here is another such rubric: "Simson-Gilgamesch's Leiche und Saul-Gilgamesch's Gebeine wieder ausgegraben, Elisa-Gilgamesch's Grab geöffnet." In other words, Simson, or Samson, left a corpse behind him (who does not?); Saul's bones were piously looked after by the Jabeshites; Elisha's bones raised a dead Moabite by mere contact to fresh life. These three figures are, therefore, ultimately one, and that one is Gilgamesch; and their three stories, which have no discernible features in common, are so many disguises of the Gilgamesch epos. [as also of the entire New Testament] But Dr. Jensen transcends himself in the New Testament. "The Jesus-saga," he informs us (p. 933), "as it meets us in the Synoptic Gospels, and equally as it meets us in John's Gospel, stands out among all the other Gilgamesch Sagas which we have so far (i.e., in the Old Testament) expounded, in that it not merely follows up the main body of the Saga with sundry fragments of it, like so many stragglers, but sets before us a long series of bits of it arranged in the original order almost undisturbed." [48] And he waxes eloquent about the delusions and ignorance of Christians, who for 2,000 years have been erecting churches and cathedrals in honour of a Jesus of Nazareth, who all the time was a mere alias of Gilgamesch. [John--Eabani] Let us, then, test some of the arguments by which this remarkable conclusion is reached. Let us begin with John the Baptist (p. 811). John was a prophet, who appeared east of the Jordan. So was Elias or Elijah. Elijah was a hairy man, and John wore a raiment of camel's-hair; both of them wore leather girdles. Now, in the Gilgamesch story, Eabani is covered with hair all over his body (p. 579--"am ganzen Leibe mit Haaren bedeckt ist"). Eabani (p. 818) is a hairy man, and presumably was clad in skins ("ist ein haariger Mann und vermutlich mit Fellen bekleidet"). Dr. Jensen concludes from this that John and Elijah are both of them, equally and independently, duplicates or understudies of Eabani. It never occurs to him that in the desert camel's-hair was a handy material out of which to make a coat, as also leather to make girdles of, and that desert prophets in any story whatever would inevitably be represented as clad in such a manner. He has, indeed, heard of Jo. Weiss's suggestion that Luke had read the LXX, and modelled his picture of John the Baptist on Elijah; but he rejects the suggestion, for he feels--and rightly--that to make any such admissions must compromise his main theory, which is that the old Babylonian epic was the only source of the evangelists. No (he writes), John's girdle, like Elijah's, came straight out of the Saga ("wohl durch die Sage bedingt ist"). Nor (he adds) can Luke's story of Sarah and Zechariah be modelled on Old Testament examples, as critics have argued. On the contrary, it is a fresh reflex of Gilgamesch ("ein neuer Reflex"), an independent sidelight cast by the central Babylonian orb ("ein neues Seitenstück"), and is copied direct. We must not give in to the suggestion thrown out by modern critics that it is a later addition to the original evangelical tradition. Far from that being so, it must be regarded as an integral and original constituent in the Jesus-saga ("So wird man zugestehen müssen, dass sie keine Zugabe, sondern ein integrierender Urbestandteil der Jesus-sage ist"). [Jesus--Gilgamesch] From this and many similar passages we realize that the view that Jesus never lived, but was a mere reflex of Gilgamesch, is not, in Jensen's mind, a conclusion to be proved, but a dogma assumed as the basis of all argument, a dogma to which we must adjust all our methods of inquiry. To admit any other sources of the Gospel story, let alone historical facts, would be to infringe the exclusive apriority, as a source, of the Babylonian epic; and that is why we are not allowed to argue up to the latter, but only down from it. If for a moment he is ready to admit that Old Testament narrative coloured Luke's birth-story, and that (for example) the angel's visit in the first chapter of Luke was suggested by the thirteenth chapter of Judges, he speedily takes back the admission. Such an assumption is not necessary ("allein nötig ist ein solche Annahme nicht"). "So much," he writes (p. 818), of John's person alone. Let us now pursue the Jesus Saga further. In the Gilgamesch Epic it is related how the Hunter marched out to Eabani with the holy prostitute, how Eabani enjoyed her, and afterwards proceeded with her to Erech, where, directly or in his honour, a festival was held; how he there attached himself to Gilgamesch, and how kingly honours were by the latter awarded to him. We must by now in a general way assume on the part of our readers a knowledge of how these events meet us over again in the Sagas of the Old Testament. In the numerous Gilgamesch Sagas, then [of the Old Testament], we found again this rencounter with the holy prostitute. And yet we seek it in vain in the three first Gospels in the exact context where we should find it on the supposition that they must embody a Gilgamesch Saga--that is to say, immediately subsequent to John's emergence in the desert. Equally little do we find in this context any reflex of Eabani's entry into the city of Erech, all agog at the moment with a festival. On the other hand, we definitely find in its original position an echo of Gilgamesch's meeting with Eabani. [49] [Evangelists borrowed their saga from Gilgamesch epos alone] Let us pause a moment and take stock of the above. In the epic two heroes meet each other in a desert. John and Jesus also meet in a desert; therefore, so argues Jensen, John and Jesus are reproductions of the heroes in question, and neither of them ever lived. It matters nothing that neither John nor Jesus was a Nimrod. This encounter of Gilgamesch and Eabani was, as Jensen reminds us, the model of every Old Testament story in which two males happen to meet in a desert; therefore it must have been the model of the evangelists also when they concocted their story of John and Jesus meeting in the wilderness. But how about the prostitute; and how about the entry into Erech? How are these lacunæ of the Gospel story to be filled in? Jensen's solution is remarkable; he finds the encounter with the prostitute to have been the model on which the fourth evangelist contrived his story of Jesus's visit to Martha and Mary. For that evangelist, like the synoptical ones, had the Gilgamesch Saga stored all ready in his escritoire, and finding that his predecessors had omitted the prostitute he hastened to fill up the lacuna, and doubled her into Martha and Mary. In this and many other respects, so we are assured by Jensen, the fourth evangelist reproduces the Gilgamesch epic more fully and systematically than the other evangelists, and on that account we must assign to John's setting of the life of Christ a certain preference and priority. He is truer to the only source there was for any of it. The other lacuna of the Synoptic Gospels is the feasting in Erech and Eabani's entry amid general feasting into that city. The corresponding episode in the Gospels, we are assured, is the triumphant entry of Jesus into Jerusalem, which the Fourth Gospel, again hitting the right nail on the head, sets at the beginning of Jesus's ministry, and not at its end. But what, we still ask, is the Gospel counterpart to the honours heaped by Gilgamesch on Eabani? How dull we are! "The baptism of Jesus by John must, apart from other considerations, have arisen out of the fact that Eabani, after his arrival at Gilgamesch's palace, is by him allotted kingly honours." [50] So then Eabani, who as a hairy man was John the Baptist, is now, by a turn of Jensen's kaleidoscope, metamorphosed into Jesus, for it is John who did Jesus the honour of baptizing him. Conversely, Gilgamesch, who began as Jesus, is now suddenly turned into John. In fact, Jesus-Gilgamesch and John-Eabani have suddenly changed places with one another, in accordance, I suppose, with the rule of interpretation, somewhere laid down by Hugo Winckler, that in astral myths one hero is apt to swop with another, not only his stage properties, but his personality. But fresh surprises are in store for Jensen's readers. Over scores of pages he has argued that John the Baptist is no other than Eabani, because he so faithfully fulfils over again the rôle of the Eabanis we meet with in the Old Testament. For example, according to Luke (i, 15, and vii, 33) John drinks no wine, and is, therefore, a Nazirean, who eschews wine and forbears to cut his hair. Therein he resembles Joseph-Eabani, and Simson-Eabani, and Samuel-Eabani, and also Absolom, who, as an Eabani, had at least an upper growth of hair. And as the Eabani of the Epic, with the long head-hair of a woman, drinks water along with the wild beasts in the desert, and as Eabani, in company with these beasts, feeds on grass and herbs alone, so, at any rate according to Luke, John ate no bread. [51] Imagine the reader's consternation when, after these convincing demonstrations of John's identity with Eabani, and of his consequent non-historicity, he finds him a hundred pages later on altogether eliminated, as from the Gilgamesch Epic, so from the Gospel. For the difficulty suddenly arises before Dr. Jensen's mind that John the Baptist, being mentioned by Josephus, must after all have really lived; but if he lived, then he cannot have been a mere reflex of Eabani. Had he only consulted Dr. Drews's work on the Witnesses to the Historicity of Jesus (English translation, p. 190), he would have known that "the John of the Gospels" is no other than "the Babylonian Oannes, Joannes, or Hanni, the curiously-shaped creature, half fish and half man, who, according to Berosus, was the first law-giver and inventor of letters and founder of civilization, and who rose every morning from the waves of the Red Sea in order to instruct men as to his real spiritual nature." Why could not Dr. Jensen consult Dr. Drews "as to the real spiritual nature" of John the Baptist? Why not consult Mr. Robertson, who overwhelms Josephus's inconvenient testimony to the reality of John the Baptist (in 18 Antiq., v, § 2) with the customary "suspicion of interpolation." Poor Dr. Jensen lacks their resourcefulness, and is able to discover no other way out of his impasse than to suppose that it was originally Lazarus and not John that had a place in his Gilgamesch Epic, and that some ill-natured editor of the Gospels, for reasons he alone can divine, everywhere struck out the name of Lazarus, and inserted in place of it that of John the Baptist, which he found in the works of Josephus. Such are the possibilities of Gospel redaction as Jensen understands them. One more example of Dr. Jensen's system. In the Gospel, Jesus, finding himself on one occasion surrounded by a larger throng of people than was desirable, took a boat in order to get away from them, and passed across the lake on the shore of which he had been preaching and ministering to the sick. The incident is a commonplace one enough, but nothing is too slight and unimportant for Dr. Jensen to detect in it a Gilgamesch parallel, and accordingly he writes thus of it: "As for Xisuthros, so for Jesus, a boat is lying ready, and like Xisuthros and Jonas, Jesus 'flees' in a boat." [52] Xisuthros, I may remind the reader, is the name of the flood-hero in Berosus. Hardly a single one of the parallels which crowd the thousand pages of Dr. Jensen is less flimsy than the above. Without doing more violence to texts and to probabilities, one could prove that Achilles and Patroclus and Helen, Æneas and Achates and Dido, Don Quixote and Sancho Panza and Dulcinea, were all of them so many understudies of Gilgamesch, Eabani and his temple slave; and we almost expect to find such a demonstration in his promised second volume. I cannot but think that my readers will resent any further specimens of Dr. Jensen's system. He has not troubled himself to acquire the merest a b c of modern textual criticism. He has no sense of the differences of idea and style which divide the Fourth from the earlier Gospels, and he lacks all insight into the development of the Gospel tradition. He takes Christian documents out of their historical context, and ignores their dependence on the Judaism of the period B.C. 100 to A.D. 100. He has no understanding of the prophetic, Messianic and Apocalyptic aspects of early Christianity, no sense of its intimate relations with the beliefs and opinions which lie before us in apocryphs like the Book of Enoch, the Fourth Esdras, the Ascent of Isaiah, the Testaments of the Patriarchs. He has never learned that in the four Gospels he has before him successive stages or layers of stratification of Christian tradition, and he accordingly treats them as a single literary block, of which every part is of the same age and evidential value. Like his Gilgamesch Epic the Gospels, for all he knows about them, might have been dug up only yesterday among the sands of Mesopotamia, instead of being the work of a sect with which, as early as the end of the first century, we are fairly well acquainted. Never once does he ask himself how the authors of the New Testament came to have the Gilgamesch Epic at the tips of their tongues, exactly in the form in which he translates it from Babylonian tablets incised 2,000 years before Christ? By what channels did it reach them? Why were they at such pains to transform it into the story of a Galilean Messiah crucified by the Roman Governor of Judæa? And as Paul and Peter, like everyone else named in the book, are duplicates of Gilgamesch and Eabani, where are we to draw the line of intersection between heaven and earth; where fix the year in which the early Christians ceased to be myths and became mere men and women? This is a point it equally behoves Dr. Drews and Mr. Robertson and Professor W. B. Smith to clear up our doubts about. EPILOGUE Of the books passed in review in the preceding pages, as of several others couched in the same vein and recently published in England and Germany, perhaps the best that can be said is this, that, at any rate, they are untrammelled by orthodox prejudice, and fearlessly written. That they belong, so to speak, to the extreme left, explains the favour with which they are received by that section of the middle-class reading public which has conceived a desire to learn something of the origins of Christianity. Unschooled in the criticism of documents, such readers have learned in the school Bible-lesson and in the long hours of instruction in what is called Divinity, to regard the Bible as they regard no other collection of ancient writings. It is, as a rule, the only ancient book they ever opened. They have discovered that orthodoxy depends for its life on treating it as a book apart, not to be submitted to ordinary tests, not to be sifted and examined, as we have learned from Hume and Niebuhr, Gibbon and Grote, to sift ancient documents in general, rejecting ab initio the supernatural myths that are never absent from them. The acuter minds among the clergy themselves begin nowadays to realize that the battle of Freethought and Rationalism is won as far as the miracles of the Old Testament are concerned; but as regards those of the New they are for ever trying to close up their ranks and rally their hosts afresh. Nevertheless, the man in the street has a shrewd suspicion that apologetics are so much special pleading, and that miracles cannot be eliminated from the Old and yet remain in the New Testament. He has never received any training in methods of historical research himself, and it is no easy thing to obtain; but he is clever enough to detect the evasions of apologists, and, with instinctive revulsion, turns away to writers who "go the whole hog" and argue for the most extreme positions, even to the length of asserting that the story of Jesus is a myth from beginning to end. Any narratives, he thinks, that have the germs of truth in them would not need the apologetic prefaces and commentaries, the humming and hawing, the specious arguments and wire-drawn distinctions of divines, any more than do Froissart or Clarendon or Herodotus. If the New Testament needs them, then it must be a mass of fable from end to end. Such is the impression which our modern apologists leave on the mind of the ordinary man. I can imagine some of my readers objecting here that, whereas I have so rudely assailed the method of interpretation of New Testament documents adopted by the Nihilistic school--I only use this name as a convenient label for those who deny the historical reality of Jesus Christ--I nevertheless propound no rival method of my own. The truth is there is no abstract method of using documents relating to the past, and you cannot in advance lay down rules for doing so. You can only learn how to deal with them by practice, and it is one of the chief functions of any university or place of higher education to imbue students with historical method by setting before them the original documents, and inspiring them to extract from them whatever solid results they can. A hundred years ago the better men in the college of Christchurch at Oxford were so trained by the dean, Cyril Jackson, who would set them the task of "preparing for examination the whole of Livy and Polybius, thoroughly read and studied in all their comparative bearings." [53] No better curriculum, indeed, could be devised for strengthening and developing the faculty of historical judgment; and the schools of Literae Humaniores and Modern History, which were subsequently established at Oxford, carried on the tradition of this enlightened educationalist. In them the student is brought face to face in the original dialects with the records of the past, and stimulated to "read and study them in their comparative bearings." One single branch of learning, however, has been treated apart in the universities of Oxford and Cambridge, and pursued along the lines of tradition and authority--I mean the study of Christian antiquities. The result has been deplorable. Intellectually-minded Englishmen have turned away from this field of history as from something tainted, and barely one of our great historians in a century deems it worthy of his notice. It has been left to parsons, to men who have never learned to swim, because they have never had enough courage to venture into deep water. As we sow, so we reap. The English Church is probably the most enlightened of the many sects that make up Christendom. Yet what is the treatment which it accords to any member of itself who has the courage to dissociate himself from the "orthodoxy" of the fourth century, of those Greek Fathers (so-called) in whom the human intelligence sank to the nadir of fanaticism and futility? An example was recently seen in the case of the Rev. Mr. W. H. Thompson, a young theological tutor of Magdalen College in Oxford, who, animated by nothing but loyalty for the Church, recently liberated his soul about the miracles of the Gospels in a thoroughly scholarly book entitled Miracles in the New Testament. The attitude of the clergy in general towards a work of genuine research, which sets truth above traditional orthodoxy, was revealed in a conference of the clergy of the southern province, held soon after its publication on May 19, 1911. The following account of that meeting is taken from the Guardian of May 26, 1911:-- The Rev. R. F. Bevan, in the Canterbury Diocesan Conference on May 19, 1911, proposed "that this Conference is of opinion that the clergy should make use of the light thrown on the Bible by modern criticism for the purposes of religious teaching." The Bishop of Croydon moved the following rider: "But desires to record its distrust of critics who, while holding office in the Church of Christ, propound views inconsistent with the doctrines laid down in the creeds of the Church." He said it was needful to define what was meant by modern criticism. He referred to a book which had been published quite lately by the Dean of Divinity of Magdalen College, Oxford, a review of which would be found in the Guardian of May 12. He must honestly confess he had not read the book for himself.... He then premised from the review that the work in question rejects the evidence both for the Virgin Birth of Christ and for his bodily Resurrection from the tomb ..., and added that the toleration by Churchmen of such doctrines and such views being taught within the bosom of the Church was to him most sad and inexplicable. If such was the instruction which young Divinity students were receiving at the universities, no wonder that the supply of candidates for ordination was falling off. The Rev. J. O. Bevan said it was not in the power of any man or any body of men to ignore the Higher Criticism or to suppress it. It had "come to stay," and its influence for good or evil must be recognized. The President (Archbishop of Canterbury) said that "Bible teaching ought to be given with a background of knowledge on the part of the teacher. He should deprecate as strongly as anybody that men who felt that they could not honestly continue to hold the Christian creeds should hold office in the Church of England. But he saw no connection between the sort of teaching which the Conference had now been considering and the giving up of the Christian creed. The Old Testament was a literature which had come down to them from ancient days. Modern investigation enabled them now to set the earlier stages of that literature in somewhat different surroundings from those in which they were set by their fathers and grandfathers." With regard to the book which had been referred to, the Archbishop said that, if the rider proposed was intended to imply a censure upon a particular writer, nothing would induce him to vote for it, inasmuch as he had not read the book, and knew nothing, at first hand, about it. He thought members ought to pause before they lightly gave votes which could be so interpreted. The motion, on being put to the meeting, was carried with one dissentient. The rider was also carried by a majority. It amounts, then, to this, that a rule of limited liability is to be observed in the investigation of early Christianity. You may be critical, but not up to the point of calling in question the Virgin Birth or physical resurrection of Christ. The Bishop of Croydon opines that the free discussion of such questions in University circles intimidates young men from taking orders. If he lived in Oxford, he would know that it is the other way about. [54] If Mr. Thompson had been allowed to say what he thought, unmolested; if the Bishops of Winchester and of Oxford had not at once taken steps to silence and drive him out of the Church, students would have been better encouraged to enter the Anglican ministry, and the more intellectual of our young men would not avoid it as a profession hard to reconcile with truth and honesty and self-respect. In the next number of the same journal (June 2, 1911) is recorded another example of how little our bishops are inclined to face a plain issue. It is contained in a paragraph headed thus:-- SYMBOLISM OF THE ASCENSION. The Bishop of Birmingham on the Second Coming. Preaching to a large congregation in Birmingham Cathedral ... the Bishop of Birmingham said that people had found difficulty in modern times about the Ascension, because, they said, "God's heaven is no more above our heads than under our feet." That was perfectly true. But there were certain ways of expressing moral ideas rooted in human thought, and we did not the less speak continually of the above and the below as expressing what was morally high and morally low, and we should go on doing so to the end. The ascension of Jesus Christ and his concealment in the clouds was a symbolical act, like all the acts after his Resurrection; it was to impress their minds with the truth of his mounting to the glory of God. Symbols were the best means of expressing the truth about things which lay outside their experience; and the Ascension symbolized Christ's mounting to the supreme state of power and glory, to the perfect vision of God, to the throne of all the world.... The Kingdom was coming--had to come at last--"on earth as it is in heaven"; and one day, just as his disciples saw him passing away out of their experience and sight, would they see him coming back into their experience and their sight, and into his perfected Kingdom of Humanity. Now, I am sure that what people in modern times chiefly want to know about the Ascension is whether it really happened. Did Jesus in his physical body go up like a balloon before the eyes of the faithful, and disappear behind a cloud, or did he not? That is the plain issue, and Dr. Gore seems to avoid it. If he believes in such a miracle, why expatiate on the symbolism of all the acts of Jesus subsequent to his resurrection? Such a miracle was surely sufficient unto itself, and never needed our attention to be drawn to its symbolical aspects and import. Does he mean that the legend is no more than "a certain way of expressing moral ideas rooted in human thought"? May we welcome his insistence on its moral symbolism as a prelude to his abandonment of the literal truth of the tale? I hope so, for in not a few apologetic books published by divines during the last twenty-five years I have encountered a tendency to expatiate on the moral significance of extinct Biblical legends. It is, as the Rev. Mr. Figgis expresses it, a way of "letting down the laity into the new positions of the Higher Criticism." Would it not be simpler, in the end, to tell people frankly that a legend is only a legend? They are not children in arms. Why is it accounted so terrible for a clergyman or minister of religion to express openly in the pulpit opinions he can hear in many academical lecture-rooms, and often entertains in the privacy of his study? When the Archbishop of Canterbury tells his brother-doctors that "modern investigation enables them now to set the earlier stages of Old Testament literature in somewhat different surroundings from those in which they were set by their fathers and grandfathers," he means that modern scholarship has emptied the Old Testament of its miraculous and supernatural legends. But the Anglican clergyman at ordination declares that he believes unfeignedly the whole of the Old and New Testaments. How can an Archbishop not dispense his clergy from belief in the New, when he is so ready to leave it to their individual consciences whether they will or will not believe in the Old? The entire position is hollow and illogical, and most of the bishops know it; but, instead of frankly recognizing facts, they descant upon the symbolical meaning of tales which they know they must openly abandon to-morrow. One is inclined to ask Dr. Gore why Christ could not have imparted in words to his followers the secret of his mounting to the supreme state of power and glory? Did they at the time, or afterwards, set any such interpretation on the story of his rising up from the ground like an airship or an exhalation? Of course they did not. They thought the earth was a fixed, flat surface, and that, if you ascended through the several lower heavens, you would find yourself before a great white throne, on which sat, in Oriental state, among his winged cherubim, the Most High. They thought that Jesus consummated the hackneyed miracle of his ascension by sitting down on the right hand of this Heavenly Potentate. If Dr. Gore doubts this, let him consult the voluminous works of the early Fathers on the subject. The entire legend coheres with ancient, and not with modern, cosmogony. How can it possibly be defended to-day on grounds of symbolism, or on any other? The same criticism applies to the legend of the Virgin Birth. The Bishop of London is reduced to defending this thrum of ancient paganism by an appeal to the biological fact of parthenogenesis among insects. Imagine the mentality of a modern bishop who dreams that he is advancing the cause of true religion and sound learning by assimilating the birth of his Saviour to that of a rotifer or a flea! The books of Dr. Drews and Mr. Robertson and others of their school are, no doubt, blundering extravaganzas, all the more inopportune because they provoke the gibes of Dr. Moulton; but they are at least works of Freethought. Their authors do not write with one eye on the truth and the other on the Pope in the Vatican, or on the obsolete dogmas of Byzantine speculation. It is possible, therefore, to discuss with them, as it is not with apologists, who take good care never to lay all their cards on the table, and of whom you cannot but feel, as the great historian Mommsen remarked, that they are chattering in chains (ex vinculis sermocinantes). In the investigation of truth there can be no mental reserves, and argument is useless where the final appeal lies to a Pope or a creed. You cannot set your hand to the plough and then look back. It was not, then, within the scope of this essay to try to determine how much and what particular incidents traditionally narrated of Jesus are credible. Such a task would require at least a thousand pages for its discharge; I have merely desired to show how difficult it is to prove a negative, and how much simpler it is to admit that Jesus really lived than to argue that he was a solar or other myth. The latter hypothesis, as expounded in these works, offends every principle of philology, of comparative mythology, and of textual criticism; it bristles with difficulties; and, if no better demonstration of it can be offered, it deserves to be summarily dismissed. On the other hand, no absolute rules can be laid down a priori for the discerning in early Christian or in any other ancient documents of historical fact. But students embarking on a study of Christian origins will do well to lay to heart the aphorism of Renan (Les Apôtres, Introd. xxix), that "one can only ascertain the origin of any particular religion from the narratives or reports of those who believed therein; for it is only the sceptic who writes history ad narrandum." It is in the very nature of things human that we could not hope to obtain documents more evidential than the Gospels and Acts. It is a lucky chance that time has spared to us the Epistles of Paul as well, and the sparse notices of first-century congregations and personalities preserved in Josephus and in pagan writers. For during the first two or three generations of its existence the Church interested few except itself. In the view of a Josephus, the Jewish converts could only figure as Jews gone astray after a false Messiah, just as the Gentile recruits were mere Judaizers, objects--as he remarks, B. J., II, 18, 2--of equal suspicion to Syrian pagans and Jews alike, an ambiguous, neutral class, spared by the knife of the pagans, yet dreaded by the Jews as at heart aliens to their cause. [55] There were no folklorists or comparative religionists in those days watching for new cults to appear; and there could be little or no inclination to sit down and write history among enthusiasts who dreamed that the end of the world was close at hand, and believed themselves to be already living in the last days. For this is the conviction that colours the whole of the New Testament; and that it does so is a signal proof of the antiquity of much that the book contains. If a Christian of the first century ever took up his pen and wrote, it was not to hand down an objective narrative of events to a posterity whose existence he barely contemplated, but, as against unbelieving Jews, to establish from ancient prophecy his belief in Jesus as the promised Messiah, or perhaps as the Word of God made flesh. All Christians were aware that Jews, both in Judæa and of the Dispersion, roundly denied their Christ to have been anything better than an impostor and violator of the Law. They heard the pagans round them echoing the scoffs of their Messiah's own countrymen. Accordingly, the earliest literature of the Church, so far as it is not merely homiletic and hortative, is controversial, and aims at proving that the Jewish people were mistaken in rejecting Jesus as the Messiah. The Jews neither then nor now have fought with mere shadows; and just in proportion as they bore witness against his Messiahship, they bore witness in favour of his historical reality. It is a pity that the extreme negative school ignore this aspect of his rejection by the Jews. Let me cite one more wise rule laid down by Renan in the same Introduction: "An ancient writing can help us to throw light, firstly, on the age in which it was composed, and, secondly, on the age which preceded its composition." This indicates in a general fashion the use which historians should make of the New Testament. We have at every turn to ask ourselves what the circumstances its contents reveal presuppose in the immediate past in the way both of ideas or aspirations and of fact or incidents. In conclusion, I cannot do better than quote the words in which Renan defines in general terms the sort of historical results we may hope to attain in the field of Christian origins. It is from the Introduction already cited, pp. vi and vii:-- In histories like this, where the general outline (ensemble) alone is certain, and where nearly all the details lend themselves more or less to doubt by reason of the legendary character of the documents, hypothesis is indispensable. About ages of which we know nothing we cannot frame any hypothesis at all. To try to reconstitute a particular group of ancient statuary, which certainly once existed, but of which we have not even the debris, and about which we possess no written information, is to attempt an entirely arbitrary task. But to endeavour to recompose the friezes of the Parthenon from what remains to us, using as subsidiary to our work ancient texts, drawings made in the seventeenth century, and availing ourselves of all sources of information; in a word, inspiring ourselves by the style of these inimitable fragments, and endeavouring to seize their soul and life--what more legitimate task than this? We cannot, indeed, after all, say that we have rediscovered the work of the ancient sculptor; nevertheless, we shall have done all that was possible in order to approximate thereto. Such a method is all the more legitimate in history, because language permits the use of dubitative moods of which marble admits not. There is nothing to prevent our setting before the reader a choice of different suppositions, and the author's conscience may be at rest as soon as he has set forth as certain what is certain, as probable what is probable, as possible what is possible. In those parts of the field where our footstep slides and slips between history and legend it is only the general effect that we must seek after.... Accomplished facts speak more plainly than any amount of biographic detail. We know very little of the peerless artists who created the chefs d'oeuvre of Greek art. Yet these chefs d'oeuvre tell us more of the personality of their authors and of the public which appreciated them than ever could do the most circumstantial narratives and the most authentic of texts. NOTES [1] Page 20 of The Christ Myth, from a note added in the third edition. [2] Op. cit. p. 214. [3] The Christ Myth, p. 9. (Zu Robertson hat sie meines Wissens noch keiner Weise ernsthaft Stellung genommen, p. vii of German edition.) [4] Christ Myth, p. 57. In the German text (first ed. 1909, p. 21) Mr. Robertson is the authority for this statement (so hat Robertson es sehr wahrscheinlich gemacht). [5] Cp. Emile Durkheim, La Vie Religieuse, Paris, 1912, p. 121, to whom I owe much in the text. [6] Such reduplications are common in Semitic languages, and in John xix, 23, 24, we have an exact analogy with this passage of Matthew. In Psalm xxii, 18, we read: "They parted my garments among them, and upon my vesture did they cast lots." Here one and the same incident is contemplated in both halves of the verse, and it is but a single garment that is divided. Now see what John makes out of this verse, regarded as a prophecy of Jesus. He pretends that the soldiers took Jesus's garments, and made four parts, to every soldier a part, so fulfilling the words: "They parted my garments among them." Next they took the coat without seam, and said to one another: "Let us not rend it, but cast lots for it, whose it shall be." The parallel with Matthew is exact. In each case what is mere rhetorical reduplication is interpreted of two distinct objects, and on this misinterpretation is based a fulfilment of prophecy, and out of it generated a new form of a story or a fresh story altogether. In defiance of the opinion of competent Hebraists, Mr. Robertson writes (p. 338) that "there is no other instance of such a peculiar tautology in the Old Testament." On the contrary, the Old Testament teems with them. [7] Christianity and Mythology, p. 286. [8] Dr. Carpenter had objected that "It has first to be proved that Dionysos rode on two asses, as well as that Jesus is the Sun-God." Mr. Robertson complacently answers (p. 453): "My references perfectly prove the currency of the myth in question"! [9] The Witnesses, p. 55 (p. 75 of German edition). [10] Why necessarily from Josephus? Were not other sources of recent Roman history available for Tacitus? Here peeps out Dr. Drews's conviction that the whole of ancient literature lies before him, and that even Tacitus could have no other sources of information than Dr. Drews. [11] On p. 299, Mary, mother of Joshua, does duty for Mary Magdalen. We there read as follows: "The friendship (of Jesus) with a 'Mary' points towards some old myth in which a Palestinian God, perhaps named Yeschu or Joshua, figures in the changing relations of lover and son towards a mythic Mary, a natural fluctuation in early theosophy." Very "natural" indeed among the Jews, who punished even adultery with death! [12] Needless to say, Dr. Frazer, as any scholar must, rejects the thesis of the unhistoricity of Jesus with derision. Mr. Robertson, in turn, imputes his rejection of it to timidity. "He (Frazer) has had some experience in arousing conservative resistance," he writes in Christianity and Mythology, p. 111. He cannot realize that any learned man should differ from himself, except to curry favour with the orthodox, or from fear of them. [13] I could have given Professor Smith a better tip. Philo composed a glossary of Biblical and other names with their meanings, which, though lost in Greek, survives in an old Armenian version. In this Essene is equated with "silence." What a magnificent aid to Professor Smith's faith! For if Essene meant "a silent one," then the pre-Christian Nazarenes must surely have been an esoteric and secret sect. [14] Of course, it is possible that Jesus, before he comes on the scene, at about the age of thirty, as a follower of John the Baptist, had been a member of the Essene sect, as the learned writer of the article on Jesus in the Jewish Encyclopædia supposes. If such a sect of Nazoræi, as Epiphanius describes, ever really existed--and Epiphanius is an unreliable author--then Jesus may have been a member of it. But it is a long way from a may to a must. Even if it could be proved that Matthew had such a tradition when he wrote, the proof would not diminish one whit the absurdity of Professor Smith's contention that he was a myth and a mere symbol of a God Joshua worshipped by pre-Christian Nazoræi. The Nazoræi of Epiphanius were a Christian sect, akin to, if not identical with, the Ebionites; and the hypothesis that they kept up among themselves a secret cult of a God Joshua is as senseless as it is baseless, and opposed to all we know of them. In what sense Matthew, that is to say the anonymous compiler of the first Gospel, understood nazoræus is clear to anyone who will take the trouble to read Matthew ii, 23. He understood by it "a man who lived in the village called Nazareth," and that is the sense which Nazarene (used interchangeably with it) also bears in the Gospel. Mr. Smith scents enigmas everywhere. [15] How treacherous the argumentum a silentio may be I can exemplify. My name and address were recently omitted for two years running from the Oxford directory, yet my house is not one of the smallest in the city. If any future publicist should pry into my life with the aid of this publication, he will certainly infer that I was not living in Oxford during those two years. And yet the Argument from Silence is only valid where we have a directory or gazetteer or carefully compiled list of names and addresses. [16] See Luke x, 17-20. [17] La Vie Religieuse, p. 134. [18] In his De legibus Hebraeorum ritualibus et earum rationibus libri tres, printed at the Hague in 1686, but largely written twenty years earlier. [19] The Christ Myth, 2nd ed., p. 18. [20] It is possible, of course, that Jewish Messianic and apocalyptic lore in the first century B.C. had been more or less evolved through contact with the religion of Zoroaster; but this lore, as we meet with it in the Gospels, derives exclusively from Jewish sources, and was part of the common stock of popular Jewish aspirations. [21] In Mark xv, 39, the utterance of the heathen centurion, "truly this man was a Son of God," can obviously not have been inspired by messianic conceptions; it can have meant no more than that he was more than human, as Damis realized his master Apollonius to be on more than one occasion. Nor can Mark have intended to attribute Jewish conceptions to a pagan soldier. [22] For example, he gravely asserts (Die Weltanschauung des alten Orients, Leipzig, 1904, p. 41) that Saul's melancholy is explicable as a myth of the monthly eclipsing of the moon's light! Perhaps Hamlet's melancholy was of the same mythic origin. A map of the stars is Winckler's, no less than Jensen's, guide to all mythologies. But, to do him justice, Winckler never fell into the last absurdity of supposing that Jews at the beginning of our era were engaged in a secret cult of a Sun-god named Joshua; on the contrary, he declares (op. cit., p. 96), that, just in proportion as we descend the course of time, we approach an age in which the heroes of earlier myth are brought down to the level of earth. This humanization of the Joshua myth was, he held, complete when the book of Joshua was compiled. [23] Cp. p. 342: "In all his allusions to the movement of his day he (Paul) is dealing with Judaizing apostles who preached circumcision." And p. 348: "Paul's Cephas is simply one of the apostles of a Judaic cult that preaches circumcision." [24] To wit, of a Sun-god, who is also Mithras and Osiris, and of a Vegetation-god annually slain on the sacred tree. We are gravely informed that "not till Dr. Frazer had done his work was the psychology of the process ascertained." Dr. Frazer must be blushing at this tribute to his psychological insight. [25] Euseb., in Esai, xviii, 1 foll., p. 424, foll. The words might mean Justin; but when he quotes Justin he always gives his name. The Gospels cannot be intended. [26] Encycl. Bibl., art, "Paul." [27] Words italicized in the sequel are citations of the text of Acts. [28] I expect Dr. Drews and Mr. Robertson, in their next editions, to broach the view that the earlier chapter was forged to explain the later one, and that in the later one "The Seven" are a cryptic reference to the Pleiades. [29] The relevant part of this commentary is preserved in an old Armenian version of which we have ancient MSS. [30] The difficulties largely vanish on the assumption that Galatians is the earliest of the Epistles, and that in Gal. ii, 1, dia d "after four" was misread in an early copy as dia id "after fourteen." This is Professor Lake's conjecture. Such misreadings of the Greek numerals are common in ancient MSS. [31] Christianity and Mythology, p. 354. [32] Why did they not do so in their "teaching," if it was intended (see p. 344) for the Jews of the Dispersion, instead of confining themselves to precepts "simply ethical, non-priestly, and non-Rabbinical"? [33] Ecce Deus, p. 8. [34] Note in Matthew the phrase (xxiii, 8): "But be ye not called Rabbi: for one is your teacher, and all ye are brethren." [35] The passage in which Josephus mentions John the Baptist runs as follows: "To some of the Jews it seemed that Herod had had his army destroyed by God, and that it was a just retribution on him for his severity towards John called the Baptist. For it was indeed Herod who slew him, though a good man, and one who bade the Jews in the practise of virtue and in the use of justice one to another and of piety towards God to walk together in baptism. For this was the condition under which baptism would present itself to God as acceptable, if they availed themselves of it, not by way of winning pardon for certain sins, but after attaining personal holiness, on account of the soul having been cleansed beforehand by righteousness. Because men flocked to him, for they took the greatest pleasure in listening to his words, Herod took fright and apprehended that his vast influence over people would lead to some outbreak of rebellion. For it looked as if they would follow his advice in all they did, and he came to the conclusion that far the best course was, before any revolution was started by him, to anticipate it by destroying him: otherwise the upheaval would come, and plunge him into trouble and remorse. So John fell a victim to Herod's suspicions, was bound and sent to the fortress of Machaerus, of which I have above spoken, and there murdered. But the Jews were convinced that the loss of his army was by way of retribution for the treatment of John, and that it was God who willed the undoing of Herod." [36] The suspect passage in which Josephus refers to Jesus runs thus, Ant. xviii, 3, 3: "Now about this time came Jesus, a wise man, if indeed one may call him a man, for he was a doer of wonderful works, a teacher of such men as receive what is true with pleasure, and he attracted many Jews and many of the Greeks. This was the 'Christ.' And when on the accusation of the principal men amongst us Pilate had condemned him to the cross, they did not desist who had formerly loved him, for he appeared to them on the third day alive again; the divine Prophets having foretold both this and a myriad other wonderful things about him; and even now the race of those called Christians after him has not died out." I have italicized such clauses as have a chance to be authentic, and as may have led Origen to say of Josephus that he did not believe Jesus to be the Christ. For the clause "This was the Christ" must have run, "This was the so-called Christ." We have the same expression in Matt. i, 16, and in the passage, undoubtedly genuine, in which Josephus refers to James, Ant., xx, 9, 1. Here Josephus relates that the Sadducee High-priest Ananus (son of Annas of the New Testament), in the interval of anarchy between the departure of one Roman Governor, Festus, and the arrival of another, Albinus, set up a court of his own, "and bringing before it the brother of Jesus who was called Christ--James was his name--and some others, he accused them of being breakers of the Law, and had them stoned." In the History of the Jewish War, iv, 5, 2, Josephus records his belief that the Destruction of Jerusalem was a divine nemesis for the murder of this Ananus by the Idumeans. There is not now, nor ever was, any passage in Josephus where the fall of Jerusalem was explained as an act of divine nemesis for the murder of James by Ananus. Origen, as Professor Burkitt has remarked, "had mixed up in his commonplace book the account of Ananus's murder of James and the remarks of Josephus on Ananus's own murder." [37] So in Acts xviii, 12, we read of faction fights in Corinth between the Jews and the followers of Jesus the Messiah; Gallio, the proconsul of Achaia, who cared for none of the matters at issue between them, is a well-known personage, and an inscription has lately been discovered dating his tenure of Achaia in A.D. 52. [38] Tacitus very likely wrote Chrestiani. He says the mob called them such, but adds that the author of the name was Christ, so implying that Christianus was the true form, and Chrestianus a popular malformation thereof. The Roman mob would be likely to deform a name they did not understand, just as a jack-tar turns Bellerophon into Billy Ruffian. Chrestos was a common name among oriental slaves, and a Roman mob would naturally assume that Christos, which they could not understand, was a form of it. [39] Mr. Robertson recognizes (p. 124), though without realizing how much it damages his theory, that the miracles of the Gospels are "visibly unknown to the Paulinists"--presumably the early churches addressed by Paul in his Epistle. Do we not here get a glimpse of an early stage of the story of Jesus before it was overlaid with miracles? Yet Mr. Robertson, in defiance of logic, argues that the absence of miraculous tales of Jesus in the Paulines confirms what he calls "the mythological argument." [40] It is true that this is from a speech put into Paul's mouth by the author of Acts; but Paul himself is no less emphatic in Romans i, 23, where of the Greeks he writes that, "though they knew God, they glorified him not as God.... Professing themselves wise, they were turned into fools, and changed the glory of the incorruptible God for the likeness of an image of a corruptible man." Such were the feelings excited in Paul by a statue of Pheidias; how different from those it roused in his contemporary Dion, who wrote as follows of it: "Whoever among mortal men is most utterly toilworn in spirit, having drunk the cup of many sorrows and calamities, when he stands before this image must utterly forget all the terrors and woes of this mortal life." So strong was the prejudice of the Church (due exclusively to its Jewish origin) against plastic or pictorial art that Eusebius and Epiphanius condemned pictures of Christ as late as the fourth century, while the Eastern churches, even to-day, forbid statues of Jesus and of the Saints. Of the great gulf which separated Jew from Gentile on such points Mr. Robertson seems not to have the faintest notion. [41] I trust my readers will forgive my use of a fox-hunting phrase in so serious a context, but I cannot think of any other so apt. [42] P. 48. After citing the rather problematic allusion to Plato (Rep. ii, 361 D) in the apology of Apollonius (c. 172), the just man shall be tortured, he shall be spat on, and, last of all, he shall be crucified. Harnack has said that there is no other reference to this passage of Plato in old-Christian literature. "Why?" asks Mr. Smith. "Because Christians were not familiar with it? Impossible. The silence of the Christians was intentional, and the reason is obvious. The passage was tell-tale. Similarly we are to understand their silence about the pre-Christian Nazarenes and many other lions that were safest when asleep." This is in the true vein of a Bacon-Shakesperians armed with his cypher. [43] See note (1). [44] Elsewhere Mr. Smith qualifies this position, p. 35: "Of course, the cult was not intended to remain, and did not in fact remain, secret; it was at length brought into the open." But perhaps Mr. Smith is here alluding to his own revelation. [45] Mark xvi, 9. The circumstance that Mark xvi, 9-20, was added to the Gospel by another hand in no way diminishes the significance of the passage here adduced. [46] In the same manner, as we know from Origen (Com. in Evang. Ioannis, tom. xiii, 27), the Samaritans had a Messiah named Dositheos, who rose from the dead, and professed himself to be the Messiah of prophecy. His sect survived in the third century, as also his books, which, as Origen says, were full of "myth" about him to the effect that he had not tasted of death, but was somewhere or other still alive. By all the rules of criticism as used by Mr. Robertson and his friends, we must deny that Dositheos ever lived. The idea of a human hero being an angel or divine power made flesh was common among Jews, and in their apocryph, "The Prayer of Jacob" (see Origen, op. cit., tom. ii, 25), that worthy represented himself as such in the very language of Paul and of the Fourth Gospel: "I who spoke to you, I, Jacob and Israel, am an angel of God and a primeval spirit, as Abraham and Isaak were created in advance of all creatures. But I, Jacob, ... called Israel by God, a man seeing God, because I am first-born of all living beings made alive by God." We also learn that Uriel was sent forth by God to herald Jacob's descent upon earth, where he "tabernacled among men." Jacob declares himself to be "archangel of the power of God, and arch-captain among the sons of God, Israel the foremost minister of the Presence." Paul, we observe, did not need to go outside Judaism for his conceptions of Jesus, nor Justin Martyr either, who regularly speaks of Jesus as an archangel. So also among the pagans. In Augustus Cæsar his contemporaries loved to detect one of the great gods of Olympus just descended to earth in the semblance of a man. He was the god Mercury or some other god incarnate. His birth was a god's descent to earth in order to expiate the sins of the Romans. Thus Horace, Odes, I, 2, v. 29: Cui dabit partes scelus expiandi Juppiter, and cp. v. 45: Serus in coelum redeas--"Mayest thou be late in returning to heaven." [47] Das Gilgamesch Epos in der Weltliteratur, 1906. [48] P. 933: "Die Jesus-sage nach den Synoptikern--wie auch die nach Johannes--unterscheidet sich nun aber von allen anderen bisher erörterten Gilgamesch-sagen dadurch, dass sie hinter dem Gros der Sage nicht nur einzelne Bruchstücke von ihr als Nachzügler bringt, sondern eine lange Reihe von Stücken der Sage in fast ungestörter ursprünglicher Reihenfolge," etc. [49] P. 818. So weit von Johannis Person allein. Verfolgen wir nun die Jesus-Sage weiter. Im Gilgamesch Epos wird erzählt, wie zu Eabani in der Wüste der Jäger mit der Hierodule hinauszieht, wie Eabani ihrer habe geniesst, und dann mit ihr nach Erech kommt, wo grade oder ihm zu Ehre ein Fest gefeiert wird, wie er sich dort an Gilgamesch anschliesst und ihn durch Diesen königliche Ehren zuteil werden. Welche Metamorphosen diese Geschehnisse in den Sagen des alten Testaments erlebt haben, darf jetzt in der Hauptsache als bekannt vorausgesetzt werden. In zahlreichen Gilgamesch-Sagen fanden wir nun die Begegnung mit der Hierodule wieder. Aber vergeblich suchen wir sie dort in den drei ersten Evangelien, wo ihr Platz wäre, falls diese etwa eine Gilgamesch-Sage enthalten sollten, nämlich unmittelbar hinter Johannis Auftreten in der Wüste. Ebenso wenig finden wir an dieser Stelle etwa einen Reflex von Eabani's Einzug in das festlich erregte Erech. Wohl dagegen treffen wir an ursprünglicher Stelle ein Wiederhall von Gilgamesch's Begegnung mit Eabani. [50] P. 820. Jesu Taufe durch Johannes wäre sonst auch daraus geworden, dass Eabani, nach dem er an Gilgamesch's Hof gelangt ist, durch Diesen Königlicher Ehren teilhaft wird. [51] Nach Lukas (i, 15 and vii, 33) trinkt Johannes keinen Wein, ist also ein Nasiräer, der keinen Wein trinkt und dessen Haar nicht kekürzt wird, ebenso wie Joseph-Eabani, wie Simson als ein Eabani, wie Samuel-Eabani, wie Absolom als Eabani wenigstens einen üppigen Haarwuchs besitzt, und wie der Eabani des Epos, mit dem langen Haupthaar eines Weibes, in der Wüste mit den Tieren zusammen Wasser trinkt, und wie Eabani mit diesen Tieren zusammen nur Gras und Krauter frisst, so isst Johannes, nach Lukas wenigstens, kein Brot. [52] P. 838: Wie für Xisuthros, liegt für Jesus ein Schiff bereit, und, wie Xisuthros und Jonas, "flieht" Jesus in ein Schiff. [53] I cite an unfinished memoir of my grandfather, W. D. Conybeare, himself a pioneer of geology and no mean palæontologist, who owed much of his discernment in these fields to such a training in historical method as he describes. [54] Within the last two months the theological faculties of Oxford and Cambridge, and the examining chaplains (of various bishops) resident in those universities, have addressed a petition to the Archbishop of Canterbury praying him to absolve candidates for Ordination of the necessity of avowing that "they believe unfeignedly in the whole of the Old and New Testaments," because so many competent and well-qualified students are thereby deterred from taking holy orders. The Archbishop would, it seems, make the individual clergyman's conscience the sole judge (to the exclusion of the Bishop of Croydon) of the propriety of his retaining his orders in spite of his rejection of this and that tradition or dogma. That is at least a sign that opinion is on the move. [55] Such is Renan's interpretation of this passage in L'Ante-Christ, ed. 1873, p. 259, and he is undoubtedly right in detecting in it a reference to the Christians scattered abroad in the half-Syrian and pagan, half-Jewish and monotheist, cities of Syria. 
5608	----	Typescript converted to computer file by Lee Dunbar - July 2002 The TRIAL of the WITNESSES of the RESURRECTION of JESUS CHRIST N.B. Not only Mr. Woolston's objections in his Sixth Discourse on our Saviour's Miracles, but those also which he and others have published in other Books, are here considered. First Published about the Year 1729 THE T R I A L OF THE WITNESSES OF THE Resurrection of Jesus We were, not long since, some Gentlemen of the inns of court together, each to other so well known, that no man's presence was a confinement to any other, from speaking his mind on any subject that happened to arise in conversation. The meeting was without design, and the discourse, as in like cases, various. Among other things we fell upon the subject of Woolston's trial and conviction, which had happened some few days before. That led to a debate, How the law finds in such cases? what punishment it inflicts? and, in general, whether the law ought at all to interpose in controversies of this kind? We were not agreed in these points. One, who maintained the favorable side to Woolston, discovered a great liking and approbation of his discourses against the miracles of Christ, and seemed to think his arguments unanswerable. To which another replied, I wonder that one of your abilities, and bred to the profession of the law, which teaches us to consider the nature of evidence, and its proper weight, can be of that opinion: I am sure you would be unwilling to determine a property of five shillings upon such evidence, as you now think material enough to overthrow the miracles of Christ. It may easily be imagined, that this opened a door to much dispute, and determined the conversation for the remainder of the evening to this subject. The dispute ran thro' almost all the particulars mentioned in Woolston's pieces; but the thread of it was broken by several digressions, and the pursuit of things which were brought accidentally into the discourse. At length one of the company said pleasantly; Gentlemen, you don't argue like lawyers; if I were judge in this cause, I would hold you better to the point. The company took the hint, and cried, they should be glad to have the cause reheard, and him to be the judge. The Gentlemen who had engaged with mettle and spirit in a dispute which arose accidentally, seemed very unwilling to be drawn into a formal controversy; and especially the Gentleman who argued against Woolston, thought the matter grew too serious for him, and excused himself from undertaking a controversy in religion, of all others the most momentous. But he was told, that the argument should be confined merely to the nature of the evidence; and that might be considered, without entering into any such controversy as he would avoid; and, to bring the matter within bounds, and under one view, the evidence of Christ's resurrection, and the exceptions taken to it, should be the only subject of the conference. With such persuasion he suffered himself to be persuaded, and promised to give the company, and their new-made judge, a meeting that day fortnight. The judge and the rest of the company were for bringing on the cause a week sooner; but the council for Woolston took the matter up, and said, Consider, Sir, the Gentleman is not to argue out of Littleton, Plowden, or Coke, authors to him well known; but he must have his authorities from Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John; and a fortnight is time little enough of all conscience to gain a familiarity with a new acquaintance: and, turning to the Gentleman, he said, I'll call upon you before the fortnight is out, to see how reverend an appearance you make behind Hammond on the New Testament, a concordance on one hand, and a folio Bible with references on the other. You shall be welcome, Sir, replied the Gentleman; and perhaps you may find some company more to your own taste. He is but a poor council who studies on one side of the question only; and therefore I will have your friend Woolston, T____l, and C___s, to entertain you when you do me the favor of the visit. Upon this we parted in good humour, and all pleased with the appointment made, except the two Gentlemen who were to provide the entertainment. The Second Day The company met at the time appointed: but as it happened in this, as in like cases it often does, that some friends to some of the company, who were not of the party the first day, had got notice of the meeting; and the Gentlemen who were to debate the question, found they had a more numerous audience than they expected or desired. He especially who was to maintain the evidence for the resurrection, began to excuse the necessity he was under of disappointing their expectation, alledging that he was not prepared; and he had persisted in excusing himself, but that the strangers who perceived what the case was, offered to withdraw; which the Gentleman would by no means consent to: they insisting to go, he said, he would much rather submit himself to their candour, unprepared as he was, than be guilty of such rudeness, as to force them to leave the company. Upon which one of the company, smiling, said, It happens luckily that our number is increased: when we were last together, we appointed a judge, but we quite forgot a jury: and now, I think, we are good men and true, sufficient to make one. This thought was pursued in several allusions to legal proceedings; which created some mirth, and had this good effect, that it dispersed the solemn air, which the mutual compliments upon the difficulty before mentioned had introduced, and restored the ease and good humour natural to the conversation of Gentlemen. The judge perceiving the disposition of the company, thought it a proper time to begin, and called out, Gentlemen of the jury, take your places; and immediately seated himself at the upper end of the table. The company sat round him, and the judge called upon the council for Woolston to begin. Mr. A. Council for Woolston, addressing himself to the judge, said, May it please your Lordship, I conceive the Gentleman on the other side ought to begin, and lay his evidence, which he intends to maintain, before the court; till that is done, it is to no purpose for me to object. I amy perhaps object to something which he will not admit to be any part of his evidence; and therefore I apprehend, the evidence ought in the first place to be distinctly stated. Judge. Mr. B What say you to that? Mr. B. Council on the other side: My Lord, If the evidence I am to maintain, were to suppose any new claim; if I were to gain any thing which I am not already possessed of, the Gentleman would be in the right: but the evidence is old, and is matter of record; and I have been long in possession of all that I claim under it. If the Gentleman has anything to say to dispossess me, let him produce it; otherwise I have no reason to bring my own title into question. And this I take to be the known method of proceeding in such cases: no man is obliged to produce his title to his possession; it is sufficient if he maintain it when it is called in question. Mr A. Surely, my Lord, the Gentleman mistakes the case. I can never admit myself to be out of possession of my understanding and reason; and since he would put me out of this possession, and compel me to admit things incredible, in virtue of the evidence he maintains, he ought to set forth his claim, or leave the world to be directed by common sense. Judge. Sir, you say right, upon supposition that the truth of the Christian religion were the point in question. In that case it would be necessary to produce the evidence for the Christian religion. But the matter now before the court is, Whether the objections produced by Mr. Woolston, are of weight to overthrow the evidence of Christ's resurrection? You see then the evidence of the resurrection is supposed to be what it is on both sides; and the thing immediately in judgement is, the value of the objections; and therefore they must be set forth. The court will be bound to take notice of the evidence, which is admitted as a fact on both parts. Go on, Mr. A. Mr. A. My Lord, I submit to the direction of the court, I cannot but observe, that the Gentleman on the other side, unwilling as he seems to be to state his evidence, did not forget to lay in his claim to prescription; which is perhaps, in truth, tho' he has too much skill to own it, the very strength of his cause. I do allow, that the Gentleman maintains nothing, but what his father and grandfather, and his ancestors, beyond time of man's memory, maintained before him: I allow too, that prescription in many cases makes a good title; but it must always be with this condition, that the thing is capable of being prescribed for: and I insist, that prescription cannot run against reason and common sense. Customs may be pleaded by prescription; but if, upon showing the custom, anything unreasonable appears in it, the prescription fails; for length of time works nothing towards the establishing anything that could never have a legal commencement. And if this objection will overthrow all prescriptions for customs; the mischief of which extends perhaps to one poor village only, and affects them in no greater a concern, than their right of common upon a ragged mountain: shall it not much more prevail, when the interest of mankind is concerned, and in no less a point than his happiness in this life, and all his hopes for futurity? Besides, if prescription must be allowed in this case, how will you deal with it in others? What will you say to the ancient Persians, and their fire-altars? nay, what to the Turks, who have been long enough in possession of their faith to plead ----- Mr. B. I beg pardon for interrupting the Gentleman, but it is to save him trouble. He is going into his favorite common-place, and has brought us from Persia to Turkey already; and if he goes on, I know we must follow him around the globe. To save us from this long journey, I'll waive all advantage from the antiquity of the resurrection, and the general reception the belief of it has found in the world; and am content to consider it as a fact which happened but last year, and was never heard of either by the Gentleman's grandfather, or by mine. Mr. A. I should not have taken quite so long a journey as the Gentleman imagines; nor, indeed, need any man go far from home to find instances to the purpose I was upon. But, since this advantage is quitted, I am as willing to spare my pains, as the Gentleman is desirous that I should. And yet I suspect some art even in this concession, fair and candid as it seems to be. For I am persuaded, that one reason, perhaps the main reason, why men believe this history of Jesus, is, that they cannot conceive, that any one should attempt, much less succeed in such an attempt as this, upon the foundation of mere human cunning and policy; and 'tis worth to go round the globe, as the Gentleman expressed himself, so see various instances of the like kind, in order to remove this prejudice. But I stand corrected, and will go directly to the point now in judgement. Mr. B. My Lord, the Gentleman, in justification of his first argument, has entered upon another of a very different kind. I think he is sensible of it, and seeming to yield up one of his popular topicks, is indeed artfully getting rid of another; which has made a very good figure in many late writings, but will not bear in any place where he who maintains it may be asked questions. The mere antiquity of the resurrection I gave up; for, if the evidence was not good at first, it can't be good now. The Gentleman is willing, he says, to spare us his history of ancient errors; and intimates, that upon this account he passes over many instances of fraud, that were in like circumstances to the case before us. I would not have the main strength of his case betrayed in complaisance to me. Nothing can be more material than to show a fraud of this kind, that prevailed universally in the world. Christ Jesus declared himself a Prophet, and put the proof of his mission on this, that he should die openly and publickly, and rise again the third day. This surely was the hardest plot in the world to be managed; and if there be one instance of this kind, or in any degree like it, by all means let it be produced. Mr. A. My Lord, There has hardly been an instance of a false religion in the world, but it has also afforded a like instance to this before us. Have they not all pretended to inspiration? Upon what foot did Pythagoras, Numa, and others set up? Did they not all converse with the gods, and pretend to deliver oracles? Mr. B. This only shews, that revelation is by the common consent of mankind the very best foundation of religion; and therefore every imposter pretends to it. But is a man's hiding himself in a cave for some years, and then coming out into the world, to be compared to a man's dying, and rising to life again? So far from it, that you and I and every man may do the one, but no man can do the other. Mr. A. Sir, I suppose it will be allowed to be as great a thing to go to heaven, and converse with angels, and with God, and to come down to earth again, as it is to die, and rise again? Now, this very thing Mahomet pretended to do; and all his disciples believe it. Can you deny this fact? Mr. B. Deny it, Sir? No. But tell us who went with Mahomet? Who were his witnesses? I expect, before we are done, to hear of the guards set over the sepulchre of Christ, and the seal of the stone. What guard watched Mahomet in his going or returning? What seals and credentials had he? He himself pretends to none. His followers pretend to nothing but his own word. We are now to consider the evidence for Christ's resurrection, and you think to parallel it, by producing a case for which no one ever pretended there was any evidence. You have Mahomet's word; and no man ever told a lie, but you had his word for the truth of what he said: and therefore you need not go round the globe to find such instances as these. But this story, it is said, has gained great credit, and is received by many nations. Very well. And how was it received? Was not every man converted to this faith with the sword at his throat? In our case, every witness to the resurrection, and every believer of it, was hourly exposed to death. In the other case, whoever refused to believe, died; or, what was as bad, lived a wretched conquered slave. And will you pretend these cases to be alike? One case indeed there was, within our own memory, which, in some circumstances, came near to the case now before us. The French prophets put the credit of their mission upon the resurrection of Dr. Emmes, and gave publick notice of it. If the Gentleman pleases to make use of this instance, it is at his service. Mr. A. The instance of Dr. Emmes is so far to the purpose, that it shews to what lengths enthusiasm will carry men. And why might not the same thing happen at Jerusalem, which happened but a few years ago in our own country? Matthew and John, and the rest of them, managed that affair with more dexterity than the French prophets; so that the resurrection of Jesus gained credit in the world, and the French prophets sunk under their ridiculous pretensions. That is all the difference. Mr. B. Is it so? And a very wide difference, I promise you. In one case everything happened that was proper to convince the world of the resurrection; in the other, the event manifested the cheat: and upon the view of these circumstances, you think it is sufficient to say, with great coolness, That is all the difference. Why, what difference do you expect between truth and falsehood? What distinction _____ Judge. Gentlemen, you forget you are in a court, and are falling into dialogue. Courts don't allow of chit-chat. Look ye, the evidence of the resurrection of Jesus is before the court, recorded by Matthew, Mark, and others. You must take it as it is; you can neither make it better, or worse. These witnesses are accused of giving false evidence. Come to the point; and let us hear what you have to offer to prove the accusation. Mr. B. Is it your meaning, Sir, that the objections should be stated and argued all together, and that the answer should be to the whole at once? or would you have the objections argued singly, and answered separately by themselves? Judge. I think this court may dispense with the strict forms of legal proceeding; and therefore I leave this to the choice of the jury. After the jury had consulted together, the foreman rose up, The Foreman of the Jury. We desire to hear the objections argued and answered separately. We shall be better able to form a judgement, by hearing the answer while the objection is fresh in our minds. Judge. Gentlemen, you hear the opinion of the jury. Go on. Mr. A I am now to disclose to you a scene, of all others the most surprising. "The resurrection has been long talked of, and, to the amazement of everyone who can think freely, has been believed through all ages of the church." This general and constant belief creates in most minds a presumption that it was founded on good evidence. In other cases the evidence supports the credit of the history; but here the evidence itself is presumed only upon the credit which the story has gained. I wish the books dispersed against Jesus by the ancient Jews had not been lost; for they would have given us a clear insight into this contrivance: but it is happy for us, that the very account given by the pretended witnesses of this fact, is sufficient to destroy the credit of it. The resurrection was not a thing contrived for its own sake. No! it was undertaken to support great views, and for the sake of great consequences that were to attend it. It will be necessary therefore to lay before you those views, that you may be the better judge of this part of the contrivance, when you have the whole scene before you. The Jews were a weak superstitious people, and, as is common among such people, gave great credit to some traditionary prophecies about their own country. They had, besides, some old books among them, which they esteemed to be writings of certain Prophets, who had formerly lived among them, and whose memory they had in great veneration. From such old books and traditions they formed many extravagant expectations; and among the rest one was, that some time or other a great victorious prince would rise among them, and subdue all their enemies, and make them lords of the world. In Augustus's time they were in a low state, reduced under the Roman yoke; and as they never wanted a deliverer more, so the eagerness of this hope, as it happens to weak minds, turned into a firm expectation that he would soon come. This proved a temptation to some bold, and to some cunning men, to personate the prince so much expected. And "nothing is more natural and common to promote rebellions, than to ground them on new prophecies, or new interpretations of old ones; prophecies being suited to the vulgar superstition, and operating with the force of religion." Accordingly, many such imposters rose, pretending to be the victorious prince expected; and they, and the people who followed them, perished in the folly of their attempt. But Jesus, knowing that victories and triumphs are not things to be counterfeited; that the people were not to be delivered from the Roman yoke by sleight of hand; and having no hope of being able to cope with the Emperor of Rome in good earnest, took another and more successful method to carry on his design. He took upon him to be the prince foretold in the ancient Prophets; but then he insisted that the true sense of the prophecies had been mistaken; that they related not to the kingdoms of this world, but to the kingdom of heaven; that the Messias was not to be a conquering prince, but a suffering one; that he was not to come with horses of war, and chariots of war, but was to be meek and lowly, riding on an ass. By this means, he got the common and necessary foundation for a new revelation, which is to be built and founded on a precedent revelation. To carry on this design, he made choice of twelve men of no fortunes or education, and of such understandings, as gave no jealousy that they would discover the plot. And, what is most wonderful, and shews their ability, while the master was preaching the kingdom of heaven, these poor men, not weaned from the prejudices of their country, expected every day that he would declare himself a king, and were quarreling who should be his first minister. This expectation had a good effect on the service; for it kept them constant to their master. I must observe further, that the Jews were under strange apprehensions of supernatural powers: and as their own religion was founded on the belief of certain miracles said to be wrought by their lawgiver Moses; so were they ever running after wonders and miracles, and ready to take up with any stories of this kind. Now, as something extraordinary was necessary to support the pretensions of Jesus, he dextrously laid hold of this weakness of the people, and set up to be a wonder-worker. His disciples were well qualified to receive this impression: they saw, or thought they saw many strange things, and were able to spread the fame and report of them abroad. This conduct had the desired success. The whole country was alarmed, and full of the news of a great Prophet's being come among them. They were too full of their own imagination, to attend to the notion of a kingdom of heaven. Here was one mighty in deed and in word; and they concluded that he was the very prince their nation expected. Accordingly they once attempted to set him up for a King; and at another time attended him in triumph to Jerusalem. This natural consequence opens the natural design of the attempt. If things had gone on successfully to the end, it is probable that the kingdom of heaven would have been changed into a kingdom of this world. The design indeed failed, by the impatience and over-hastiness of the multitude; which alarmed not only the chief of the Jews, but the Roman governor also. The case being come to this point, and Jesus seeing that he could not escape being put to death, he declared, that the ancient Prophets had foretold, that the Messias should die upon a cross, and that he should rise again on the third day. Here was the foundation for the continuing this plot, which otherwise had died with its author. This was his legacy to his followers; which, having been well managed by them and their successors, has at last produced a kingdom indeed; a kingdom of priests, who have governed the world for many ages, and have been strong enough to set Kings and Emperors at defiance. But so it happens, the ancient Prophets appealed to are still extant; and there being no such prophecies of the death and resurrection of the Messias, they are a standing evidence against this story. As he expected, so it happened, that he died on a cross; and the prosecuting of this contrivance was left to the management of his disciples and followers. Their part is next to be considered-----. Mr. B. My Lord, Since it is your opinion that the objections should be considered singly, and the Gentleman has carried his scheme down to the death of Christ, I think he is come to a proper rest; and that it is agreeable to your intention that I should be admitted to answer. Judge. You say right, Sir. Let us hear what you answer to this charge. Mr. B. My Lord, I was unwilling to disturb the Gentleman by breaking in upon his scheme; otherwise I would have reminded him that this court sits to examine evidence, and not to be entertained with fine imaginations. You have had a scheme laid before you, but not one bit of evidence to support any part of it; no, not so much as a pretence to any evidence. The Gentleman was, I remember, very sorry that the old books of the Jews were lost, which would, as he supposes, have set forth all this matter; and I agree with him, that he has much reason to be sorry, considering his great scarcity of proof. And since I have mentioned this, that I may not be to return to it again, I would ask the Gentleman now, how he knows there ever were such books? And since, if ever there were any, they are lost, how he knows what they contained? I doubt I shall have frequent occasion to ask such questions. It would indeed be a sufficient answer to the whole, to repeat the several suppositions that have been made, and to call for the evidence upon which they stand. This would plainly discover every part of the story to be mere fiction. But since the Gentleman seems to have endeavored to bring under one view the many insinuations which have of late been spread abroad by different hands, and to work the whole into a consistent scheme; I will, if your patience shall permit, examine this plot, and see to whom the honour of the contrivance belongs. The Gentleman begins with expressing his "amazement, that the resurrection has been believed in all ages of the church." If you ask him, Why? he must answer , Because the account of it is a forgery; for it is no amazement to him, surely, that a true account should be generally well received. So that this remark proceeds indeed from confidence rather than amazement; and comes only to this, that he is sure that there was no resurrection. And I am sure that this is no evidence that there was none. Whether he is mistaken in his confidence, or I in mine, the court must judge. The Gentleman's observation, That the general belief of the resurrection creates a presumption that it stands upon good evidence, and therefore people look no farther, but follow their fathers, as their fathers did their grandfathers before them, is in great measure true; but it is a truth nothing to his purpose. He allows, that the resurrection has been believed in all ages of the church; that is, from the very time of the resurrection: what then prevailed with those who first received it? They certainly did not follow the example of their fathers. Here then is the point, How did this fact gain credit in the world at first? Credit it has gained without doubt. If the multitude at present go into this belief through prejudice, example, and for company sake, they do in this case no more, nor otherwise, than they do in all cases. And it cannot be denied, but that truth may be received through prejudice, (as it is called), i.e. without examining the proof, or merits of the cause, as well as falsehood. What general truth is there, the merits of which all the world, or the one hundredth part has examined? It is smartly said somewhere, That the priest only continues what the nurse began. But the life of the remark consists in the quaintness of the antithesis between the nurse and the priest; and owes its support much more to sound than to sense. For is it possible that children should not hear something of the common and popular opinions of their country, whether these opinions be true or false? Do they not learn the common maxims of reason this way? Perhaps every man first learned from his nurse that two and two make four; and whenever she divides an apple among her children, she instills into them this prejudice, That the whole is equal to its parts, and all the parts equal to the whole: and yet Sir Isaac Newton, (shame on him!) what work has he made, what a building he has erected upon the foundation of this nursery-learning? As to religion, there never was a religion, there never will be one, whether true or false, publickly owned in any country, but children have heard, and ever will hear, more or less of it from those who are placed about them. And if this is, and ever must be the case, whether the religion be true or false; 'tis highly absurd to lay stress on this observation, when the question is about the truth of any religion; for the observation is indifferent to both sides of the question. We are now, I think, got through the common-place learning, which must forever, it seems, attend upon questions of this nature; and are coming to the very merits of the cause. And here the Gentleman on the other side thought proper to begin with an account of the people of the Jews, the people in whose country the fact is laid, and who were originally, and in some respects principally concerned in its consequences. They were, he says, a weak superstitious people, and lived under certain pretended prophecies and predictions; that upon this ground they had, some time before the appearance of Christ Jesus, conceived great expectation of the coming of a victorious prince, who should deliver them from the Roman yoke, and make them all kings and princes. He goes on then to observe, how liable the people were, in this state of things, to be imposed on, and led into rebellion, by any one who was bold enough to take upon him to personate the prince expected. He observes further, that in fact many such imposters did arise, and deceived multitudes to their ruin and destruction. I have laid these things together, because I do not intend to dispute these matters with the Gentleman. Whether the Jews were a weak and superstitious people, and influenced by false prophecies, or whether they had true prophecies among them, is not material to the present question: it is enough for the Gentleman's argument if I allow the fact to be as he has stated it, that they did expect a victorious prince; that they were upon this account exposed to be practised on by pretenders; and in fact were often so deluded. This foundation being laid, it was natural to expect, and I believe your Lordship and every one present did expect, that the Gentleman would go on to shew, that Jesus laid hold of this opportunity, struck in with the opinion of the people, and professed himself to be the prince who was to work their deliverance. But so far, it seems, is this from being the case, that the charge upon Jesus is, that he took the contrary part, and set up in opposition to all the popular notions and prejudices of his country; that he interpreted the prophecies to another sense and meaning than his countrymen did; and by his expositions took away all hopes of their ever seeing the victorious deliverer so much wanted and expected. I know not how to bring the Gentleman's premisses and his conclusion to any agreement; they seem to be at a great variance at present. If it be the likeliest method for an imposter to succeed, to build on the popular opinions, prejudices and prophecies of the people; then surely an imposter cannot possibly take a worse method, than to set up in opposition to all the prejudices and prophecies of the country. Where was the art and cunning then of taking this method? Could anything be expected from it but hatred, contempt, and persecution? And did Christ in fact meet with any other treatment from the Jews? And yet when he found, as the Gentleman allows he did, that he must perish in this attempt, did he change his note? did he come about, and drop any intimations agreeable to the notions of the people? It is not pretended. This, which, in any other case which ever happened, would be taken to be a plain mark of great honesty, or great stupidity, or of both, is in the present case art, policy, and contrivance. But, it seems, Jesus dared not set up to be the victorious prince expected, for victories are not to be counterfeited. I hope it was no crime in him that he did not assume this false character, and try to abuse the credibility of the people; if he had done so, it certainly would have been a crime; and therefore in this point at least he is innocent. I do not suppose the Gentleman imagines the Jews were well founded in their expectation of a temporal prince: and therefore when Christ opposed this conceit at the manifest hazard of his life, as he certainly had truth on his side, so the presumption is, that it was for the sake of truth that he exposed himself. No. He wanted, we are told, the common and necessary foundation for a new revelation, the authority of an old one to build on. Very well. I will not inquire how common, or how necessary this foundation is to a new revelation; for, be that case as it will, it is evident, that in the method Christ took, he had not, nor could have the supposed advantage of such foundation. For why is this foundation necessary? A friend of the Gentleman's shall tell you "Because it must be difficult, if not impossible, to introduce among men (who in all civilized countries are bred up in the belief of some revealed religion) a revealed religion wholly new, or such as has no reference to a preceding one; for that would be to combat all men on too many respects, and not to proceed on a sufficient number of principles necessary to be assented to by those on whom the first impressions of a new religion are proposed to be made." You see now the reason of the necessity of this foundation: it is, that the new teacher may have the advantage of old popular opinions, and fix himself upon the prejudices of the people. Had Christ any such advantages? or did he seek any such? The people expected a victorious prince; he told them they were mistaken: they held as sacred the traditions of the elders; he told them those traditions made the law of God of none effect: they valued themselves for being the peculiar people of God; he told them, that people from all quarters of the world should be the people of God, and sit down with Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, in the kingdom: they thought God could be worshipped only at Jerusalem; he told them God might and should be worshipped everywhere: they were superstitious in the observance of the sabbath; he, according to their reckoning, broke it frequently: in a word, their washings of hands and pots, their superstitious distinctions of meats, their prayers in publick, their villanies in secret, were all reproved, exposed, and condemned by him; and the cry ran strongly against him, that he came to destroy the Law and the Prophets. And now, Sir, what advantage did Christ have of your common and necessary foundation? What sufficient number of principles owned by the people did he build on? If he adhered to the old revelation in the true sense, or (which is sufficient to the present argument) in a sense not received by the people, it was in truth the greatest difficulty he had to struggle with: and therefore what could tempt him, but purely a regard for truth, to take upon himself so many difficulties, which might have been avoided, could he have been but silent as to the old revelation, and left the people to their imaginations? To carry on this plot, we are told, that the next thing which Jesus did, was, to make choice of proper persons to be his disciples. The Gentleman has given us their character; but, as I suppose he has more employment for them before he has done, I desire to defer the consideration of their abilities and conduct till I hear what work he has for them to do. I would only observe, that thus far this plot differs from all that ever I heard of. Imposters generally take advantage of the prejudices of the people, generally too they make choice of cunning dextrous fellows to manage under them; but in this case Jesus opposed all the notions of the people, and made choice of simpletons, it seems, to conduct his contrivances. But what design, what real end was carrying on all this while? Why, the Gentleman tells us, that the very thing disclaimed, the temporal kingdom, was the real thing aimed at under this disguise. He told the people there was no foundation to expect a temporal deliverer, warned them against all who would set up those pretensions; he declared there was no ground from the ancient prophecies to expect such a prince: and yet by these very means he was working his way to an opportunity of declaring himself to be the very prince the people wanted. We are still upon the marvelous; every step opens new wonders. I blame not the Gentleman; for what but this can be imagined to give any account of these measures imputed to Christ? Be this never so unlikely, yet this is the only thing that can be said. Had Christ been charged with enthusiasm, it would not have been necessary to assign a reason for his conduct: madness is unaccountable: Ratione modoque tractari non vult. But when design, cunning, and fraud are made the charge, and carried to such an height, as to suppose him to be a party to the contrivance of a sham resurrection for himself, it is necessary to say to what end this cunning tended. It was, we are told, to a kingdom: and indeed the temptation was little enough, considering that the chief conductor of the plot was crucified for his pains. But were the means made use of at all probable to achieve the end? Yes, says the Gentleman, that can't be disputed; for they had really this effect, the people would have made him King. Very well: Why was he not King then? Why, it happened unluckily that he would not accept the offer, but withdrew himself from the multitude, and lay concealed until they were dispersed. It will be said, perhaps, that Jesus was a better judge of affairs than the people, and saw that it was not yet time to accept the offer. Be it so; let us see then what follows. The government was alarmed, and Jesus was looked on as a person dangerous to the state; and he had discernment enough to see that his death was determined and inevitable. What does he do then? Why, to make the best of a bad case, and to save the benefit of his undertaking to those who were to succeed him, he pretends to prophecy of his death, which he knew could not be avoided: Men do not use to play tricks in articulo mortis; but this plot had nothing common, nothing in the ordinary way. But what if it should appear, that after the foretelling of his death (through despair of his fortunes it is said) he had it in his power to set up for King once more, and once more refused the opportunity? Men in despair lay hold on the least help, and never refuse the greatest. Now, the case was really so. After he had foretold his crucifixion, he came to Jerusalem in the triumphant manner the Gentleman mentioned; the people strewed his way with boughs and flowers, and were all at his devotion; the Jewish governors lay still for fear of the people. Why was not this opportunity laid hold on to seize the kingdom, or at least to secure himself from the ignominious death he expected? For whose sake was he contented to die? for whose sake did he contrive this plot of his resurrection? Wife and children he had none; his nearest relations gave little credit to him; his disciples were not fit even to be trusted with the secret, nor capable to manage any advantage that could arise from it. However, the Gentleman tells us, a kingdom has arisen out of this plot, a kingdom of priests. But when did it arise? Some hundred years after the death of Christ, in opposition to his will, and almost to the subversion of his religion. And yet we are told this kingdom was the thing he had in view. I am apt to think the Gentleman is persuaded, that the dominion he complains of is contrary to the spirit of the gospel; I am sure some of his friends have taken great pains to prove it is so. How then can it be charged as the intention of the gospel to introduce it? Whatever the case was, it cannot surely be suspected that Christ died to make Popes and Cardinals. The alterations which have happened in the doctrines and practices of churches, since the Christian religion was settled by those who had an authentick commission to settle it, are quite out of the question, when the inquiry is about the truth of the Christian religion. Christ and his Apostles did not vouch for the truth of all that should be taught in the church in future times; nay, they foretold and fore warned the world against such corrupt teachers. It is therefore absurd to challenge the religion of Christ, because of the corruptions which have spread among Christians. The gospel has no more concern with them, and ought no more to be charged with them, than with the doctrines of the Alcoran. There is but one observation more, I think, which the Gentleman made under this head. Jesus, he says, referred to the authority of ancient prophecies to prove that the Messias was to die and rise again; the ancient books referred to are extant, and no such prophecies, he says, are to be found. Now, whether the Gentleman can find these prophecies or no, is not material to the present question. It is allowed that Christ foretold his own death and resurrection; if the resurrection was managed by fraud, Christ was certainly in the fraud himself, by foretelling the fraud which was to happen: disprove therefore the resurrection, and we shall have no further occasion for prophecy. On the other side, by foretelling the resurrection, he certainly put the proof of his mission on the truth of the event. Whether it be the character of the Messias, in the ancient Prophets, or no, that he should die, and rise again; without doubt Jesus is not the Messias, if he did not rise again: for, by his own prophecy, he made it part of the character of the Messias. If the event justified the prediction, it is such an evidence as no man of sense and reason can reject. One would naturally think, that the foretelling his resurrection, and giving such publick notice to expect it, that his keenest enemies were fully apprised of it, carried with it the greatest mark of sincere dealing. It stands thus far clear of the suspicion of fraud. And had it proceeded from enthusiasm, and an heated imagination, the dead body at least would have rested in the grave, and without further evidence have confuted such pretensions: and since the dead body was not only carried openly to the grave, but there watched and guarded, and yet could never afterwards be found, never heard of more as a dead body, there must of necessity have been either a real miracle, or a great fraud in this case. Enthusiasm dies with the man, and has no operation on his dead body. There is therefore here no medium: you must either admit the miracle, or prove the fraud. Judge. Mr. A. You are at liberty either to reply to what has been said under this head, or to go on with your cause Mr. A. My Lord, the observations I laid before you, were but introductory to the main evidences on which the merits of the cause must rest. The Gentleman concluded, that here must be a real miracle or a great fraud; a fraud, he means, to which Jesus in his lifetime was a party. There is, he says, no medium. I beg his pardon. Why might it not be an enthusiasm in the master which occasioned the prediction, and fraud in the servants who put it in execution? Mr. B. My Lord, This is new matter, and not a reply. The Gentleman opened this transaction as a fraud from one end to the other. Now he supposes Christ to have been an honest, poor enthusiast, and the disciples only to be cheats. Judge. Sir, if you go to new matter, the council on the other side must be admitted to answer. Mr. A. My Lord, I have no such intention. I was observing, that the account I gave of Jesus was only to introduce the evidence that is to be laid before the court. It cannot be expected, that I should know all the secret designs of this contrivance, especially considering that we have but short accounts of this affair, and those too conveyed through hands of friends and parties to the plot. In such a case it is enough if we can imagine what the views probably were; and in such case too it must be very easy for a Gentleman of parts to raise contrary imaginations, and to argue plausibly from them. But the Gentleman has rightly observed, that if the resurrection be a fraud, there is an end to all pretensions, good or bad, that were to be supported by it: therefore I shall go on to prove this fraud, which is one main part of the cause now to be determined. I beg leave to remind you, that Jesus in his lifetime foretold his death, and that he should rise again the third day. The first part of his prediction was accomplished: he died on the cross and was buried. I will not trouble you with the particulars of his crucifixion, death, and burial; it is a well known story. Mr. B. My Lord, I desire to know, whether the Gentleman charges any fraud upon this part of the history. Perhaps he may be of the opinion by and by, that there was a sleight of hand in the crucifixion, and that Christ only counterfeited death. Mr. A. No, no; have no such fears; he was not crucified by his disciples; but by the Romans and the Jews; and they were in very good earnest. I will prove beyond contradiction, that the dead body was fairly laid in the tomb; and it will be well for you if you can get it as fairly out again. Judge. Go on with your evidence. Mr. A. My Lord, the crucifixion being over, the dead body was conveyed to a sepulchre; and in the general opinion there seemed to be an end of the whole design. But the governors of the Jews, watchful for the safety of the people, called to mind that Jesus in his lifetime had said, that he would rise again on the third day. It may at first sight seem strange that they should give any attention to such a prophecy; a prophecy big with confidence and presumption, and which to the common sense of mankind carried its confutation along with it: and "there is no other nation in the world which would not have slighted such a vain prognostication of a known imposter." But they had warning to be watchful. It was not long before, that the people "had like to have been fatally deluded and imposed on by him in the pretended resuscitation of Lazarus." They had fully discovered the cheat in the case of Lazarus, and had narrowly escaped the dangerous consequences of it. And though Jesus was dead, yet he had many disciples and followers alive, who were ready enough to combine in any fraud, to verify the prediction of their master. Should they succeed, the rulers foresaw, the consequences in this case would be more fatal than those which before they had narrowly escaped. Upon this account they addressed themselves to the Roman governor, told him how the case was, and desired that he would grant them a guard to watch the sepulchre; that the service would not be long, for the prediction limited the resurrection to the third day; and when that was over, the soldiers might be released from the duty. Pilate granted the request; and a guard was set to watch the sepulchre. This was not all. The chief priests took another method to prevent all frauds, and it was the best that could possibly be taken; which was, to seal up the door of the sepulchre. To understand to what purpose this caution was used, you need only consider what is intended by sealing up doors, and boxes, or writings. Is it not for the satisfaction of all parties concerned, that they may be sure things are in the state they left them, when they come and find their seals not injured? This was the method used by Darius, when Daniel was cast into the lions den; he sealed the door of the den. And for what purpose? Was it not to satisfy himself and his court, that no art had been used to preserve Daniel? And when he came and saw Daniel safe, and his seal untouched, he was satisfied. And indeed if we consider the thing rightly, a seal thus used imports a covenant. If you deliver writings to a person sealed, and he accepts them so, your delivery and his acceptance implies a covenant between you, that the writings shall be delivered and the seal whole; and should the seal be broken, it would be a manifest fraud, and breach of trust. Nay, so strongly is this covenant implied, that there needs no special agreement in the case; it is a compact which men are put under by the law of nations, and the common consent of mankind. When you send a letter sealed to the post- house, you have not indeed a special agreement with all persons through whose hands it passes, that it shall not be opened by any hand , but his only to whom it is directed; yet men know themselves to be under this restraint, and that it is unlawful and dishonorable to transgress it. Since then the sepulchre was sealed; since the seal imported a covenant, consider who were the parties to this covenant. They could be no other than the chief priests on one side, and the apostles on the other. To prove this, no special agreement need be shewn. On one side, there was a concern to see the prophecy fulfilled; on the other, to prevent fraud in fulfilling it. The sum of their agreement was naturally this, that the seals should be opened at the time appointed for the resurrection, that all parties might see and be satisfied, whether the dead body was come to life or no. What now would any reasonable man expect from these circumstances? Don't you expect to hear, that the chief priests and the apostles met at the time appointed, opened the seals, and that the matter in dispute was settled beyond all controversy one way or other? But see how it happened, The seals were broken, the body stolen away in the night by the disciples; none of the chief priests present, or summoned to see the seals opened. The guards, when examined, were forced to confess the truth, though joined with an acknowledgement of their guilt; which made them liable to be punished by Pilate: they confessed that they were asleep, and in the mean time that the body was stolen away by the disciples. This evidence of the Roman soldiers, and the far stronger evidence arising from the clandestine method of breaking up the seals, are sufficient proofs of fraud. But there is another circumstance in the case, of equal weight. Though the seals did not prevent the cheat entirely, yet they effectually falsified the prediction. According to the prediction, Jesus was to rise on the third day, or after the third day. At this time the chief priests intended to be present, and probably would have been attended by a great multitude. This made it impossible to play any tricks at that time; and therefore the apostles were forced the hasten the plot: and accordingly the resurrection happened a day before its time; for the body was buried on the Friday, and was gone early in the morning on Sunday. These are plain facts; facts drawn from the accounts given to us by those who are friends to the belief of the resurrection. The Gentleman won't call these imaginations, or complain that I have given him schemes instead of evidence. Mr. B. My Lord, I am now to consider that part of the argument upon which the Gentleman lays the greatest stress. He has given us his evidence; mere evidence, he says, unmixed, and clear of all schemes and imaginations. In one thing indeed he has been as good as his word; he has proved beyond contradiction, that Christ died, and was laid in the sepulchre: for, without doubt, when the Jews sealed the stone, they took care to see that the body was there; otherwise their precaution was useless. He has proved too, that the prediction of Christ concerning his own resurrection, was a thing publickly known in all Jerusalem; for he owns, that this gave occasion for all the care that was taken to prevent fraud. If this open prediction implies a fraudulent design, the evidence is strong with the Gentleman: but if it shall appear to be, what it really was, the greatest mark that could be given of sincerity and plain dealing in the whole affair, the evidence will still be as strong, but the weight of it will fall on the wrong side for the Gentleman's purpose. In the next place, the Gentleman seems to be at a great loss to account for the credit which the chief priests gave to the prediction of the resurrection, by the care they took to prevent it. He thinks the thing in itself was too extravagant and absurd to deserve any regard; and that no one would have regarded such a prediction in any other time or place. I agree with the Gentleman entirely: but then I demand of him a reason why the chief priests were under any concern about this prediction. Was it because they had plainly discovered him to be a cheat and an imposter? It is impossible. This reason would have convinced them of the folly and presumption of the prediction. It must therefore necessarily be, that they had discovered something in the life and actions of Christ which raised this jealousy, and made them listen to a prophecy in his case, which in any other case they would have despised. And what could this be, but the secret conviction they were under, by his many miracles, of his extraordinary powers? This care therefore of the chief priests over his dead, helpless body, is a lasting testimony of the mighty works which Jesus did in his lifetime; for had the Jews been persuaded that he performed no wonders in his life, I think they would not have been afraid of seeing any done by him after his death. But the Gentleman is of another mind. He says, they had discovered a plain cheat in the case of Lazarus, whom Christ had pretended to raise from the dead; and therefore they took all this care to guard against a like cheat. I begin now to want evidence; I am forbid to call this imagination, what else to call it I know not. There is not the least intimation given from history, that there was any cheat in the case of Lazarus, or that any one suspected a cheat. Lazarus lived in the country after he was raised from the dead; and though his life was secretly and basely sought after, yet no body had the courage to call to a trial for his part in the cheat. It may be said, perhaps, the rulers were terrified. Very well: but they were not terrified when they had Christ in their possession, when they brought him to a trial; why did they not then object this cheat to Christ? It would have been much to their purpose. Instead of that, they accuse him of a design to pull down their temple, to destroy their law, and of blasphemy; but not one word of any fraud in the case of Lazarus, or any other case. But not to enter into the merits of this cause, which has in it too many circumstances for your present consideration; let us take the case to be as the Gentleman states it, that the cheat in the case of Lazarus was detected; what consequence is to be expected? In all other cases, impostors, once discovered, grow odious and contemptible, and quite incapable of doing further mischief; so little are they regarded, that even when they tell the truth, they are neglected. Was it so in this case? No, says the Gentleman; the Jews were the more careful that Christ should not cheat them in his own resurrection. Surely this is a most singular case. When the people thought him a Prophet, the chief priests sought to kill him, and thought his death would put an end to his pretensions: when they and the people had discovered him to be a cheat, then they thought him not safe, even when he was dead, but were afraid he should prove a true Prophet, and, according to his own prediction, rise again. A needless, a preposterous fear! In the next place, the Gentleman tells us how proper the care was that the chief priests took. I agree perfectly with him. Human policy could not invent a more proper method to guard against and prevent all fraud. They delivered the sepulchre, with the dead body in it, to a company of Roman soldiers, who had orders from their officer to watch the sepulchre. Their care went further still; they sealed the door of the sepulchre. Upon this occasion, the Gentleman has explained the use of seals when applied to such purposes. They imply, he says, a covenant, that the things sealed up shall remain in the condition they are till the parties to the sealing agree to open them. I see no reason to enter into the learning about seals: let it be as the Gentleman has opened it; what then? Why then, it seems, the apostles and chief priests were in a covenant that there should be no resurrection, at least no opening of the door, till they met together at an appointed time to view and unseal the door. Your Lordship and the court will now consider the probability of this supposition. When Christ was seized and carried to his trial, his disciples fled, out of a just apprehension that they should, if apprehended, be sacrificed with their master. Peter indeed followed him; but his courage soon failed, and it is well known in what manner he denied him. After the death of Christ, his disciples were so far from being ready to engage for his resurrection, or to enter into terms and agreements for the manner in which it should be done, that they themselves did not believe it ever would be; they gave over all hopes and thoughts of it; and far from entering into engagements with the chief priests, their whole concern was, to keep themselves concealed from them. This is a well known case, and I will not trouble you with particular authorities to prove this truth. Can any man now in his right senses think, that the disciples under these circumstances entered into this covenant with the Jews? I believe the Gentleman don't think it, and for that reason says, that seals so used import a covenant without a special agreement. Be it so; and it must then be allowed, that the apostles were no more concerned in these seals, than every other man in the country, and no more answerable for them; for the covenant reached to every body as well as to them, since they were under no special contract. But I beg pardon for spending your time unnecessarily, when the simple plain account of this matter will best answer all these jealousies and suspicions. The Jews, it is plain, were exceedingly solicitous about this event; for this reason they obtained a guard from Pilate; and when they had, they were still suspicious lest their guards should deceive them, and enter into combination against them. To secure this point, they sealed the door, and required of the guards to deliver up the sepulchre to them sealed as it was. This is the natural and true account of the matter. Do but consider it in a parallel case. Suppose a prince should set a guard at the door of his treasury, and the officer who placed the guard should seal the door, and say to the soldiers, You shall be answerable for the seal if I find it broken: would not all the world understand the seal to be fixed to guard against the soldiers, who might, though employed to keep off others, be ready enough to pilfer themselves? This is in all such cases but a necessary care; you may place guards, and when you do all is in their power: Et quis custodes custodiat ipsos? But it seems, that, notwithstanding all this care, the seals were broken, and the body gone. If you complain of this, Sir, demand satisfaction of your guards; they only are responsible for it: the disciples had no more to do in it than you or I. The guards, the Gentleman says, have confessed the truth, and owned that they were asleep, and that the disciples in the mean time stole away the body. I wish the guards were in court, I would ask them, how they came to be so punctual in relating what happened when they were asleep? what induced them to believe that the body was stolen at all? what, that it was stolen by the disciples; since by their own confession they were asleep and say nothing, saw no body? But since they are not to be had, I would desire to ask the Gentleman the same questions; and whether he has any authorities in point, to shew, that ever any man was admitted as an evidence in any court, to prove a fact which happened when he was asleep? I see the Gentleman is uneasy; I'll press the matter no further. As this story has no evidence to support it, so neither has it any probability. The Gentleman has given you the character of the disciples; that they were weak, ignorant men, full of the popular prejudices and superstitions of their country,which stuck close to them notwithstanding their long acquaintance with their master. The apostles are not much wronged in this account; and is it likely that such men should engage in so desperate design, as to steal away the body, in opposition to the combined power of the Jews and Romans? What could tempt them to it? What good could the dead body do them? Or if it could have done them any, what hope had they to succeed in their attempt? A dead body is not to be removed by sleight of hand; it requires many hands to move it: besides, the great stone at the mouth of the sepulchre was to be removed; which could not be done silently, or by men walking on tip-toes to prevent discovery: so that if the guards had really been asleep, yet there was no encouragement to go on this enterprise; for it is hardly possible to suppose, but that rolling away the stone, moving the body, the hurry and confusion of carrying it off, must awaken them. But supposing the thing was practicable, yet the attempt was such as the disciples consistently with their own notions could not undertake. The Gentleman says, they continued all their master's lifetime to expect to see him a temporal prince; and a friend of the Gentleman's has observed, what is equally true, that they had the same expectation after his death. Consider now their case. Their master was dead; and they are to contrive to steal away his body. For what? Did they expect to make a King of the dead body, if they could get it into their power? Or did they think, if they had it, they could raise it to life again? If they trusted so far to their master's prediction, as to expect his resurrection, (which I think is evident they did not), could they yet think the resurrection depended on their having the dead body? It is in all views absurd. But the Gentleman supposes, that they meant to carry on the design for themselves, in the master's, if they could but have persuaded the people to believe him risen from the dead. But he does not consider, that by this supposition he strips the disciples of every part of their character at once, and presents to us a new set of men, in every respect different from the former. The former disciples were weak, plain men; but these are bold, hardy, cunning, and contriving: the former were full of the superstitions of their country, and expected a prince from the authority of their Prophets; but these were despisers of the Prophets, and of the notions of their countrymen, and are designing to turn these fables to their own advantage; for it cannot be supposed that they believed the Prophets, and at the same time thought to accomplish or defeat them by so manifest a cheat, to which they themselves at least were conscious. But let us take leave of these suppositions, and see how the true evidence is this case stands. Guards were placed, and they did their duty. But what are guards and sentinels against the power of God? An angel of the Lord opened the sepulchre; the guards saw him, and became like dead men. This account they gave to the chief priests, who, still persisting in their obstinacy, bribed the guards to tell the contradictory story, of their being asleep, and the body stolen. I cannot but observe to your Lordship, that all these circumstances, so much questioned and suspected, were necessary circumstances, supposing the resurrection to be true. The seal was broken, the body came out of the sepulchre, the guards were placed in vain to prevent it. Be it so: I desire to know, whether the Gentleman thinks that the seal put God under covenant? or could prescribe to him a method for performing this great work? or whether he thinks the guards were placed to maintain the seal in opposition to the power of God? If he will maintain neither of these points, then the opening of the seals, notwithstanding the guard set upon them, will be an evidence, not of the fraud, but of the power of the resurrection; and the guards will have nothing to answer for, but only this, that they were not stronger than God. The seal was a proper check upon the guards: the Jews had no other meaning in it; they could not be so stupid as to imagine, that they could by this contrivance disappoint the designs of providence. And it is surprising to hear these circumstances made use of to prove the resurrection to be a fraud, which yet could not but happen, supposing the resurrection to be true. But there is another circumstance still, which the Gentleman reckons very material, and upon which I find great stress is laid. The resurrection happened, we are told, a day sooner than the prediction imported. The reason assigned for it is, that the execution of the plot at the time appointed was rendered impracticable, because the chief priests, an probably great numbers of the people, were prepared to visit the sepulchre at that time; and therefore the disciples were under a necessity of hastening their plot. This observation is entirely inconsistent with the supposition upon which the reasoning stands. The Gentleman has all along supposed the resurrection to have been managed by fraud, and not by violence. And indeed violence, if there had been an opportunity of using it, would have been insignificant: beating the guards, and removing the dead body by force, would have destroyed all pretences to a resurrection. Now, surely the guards, supposing them to be enough in number to withstand all violence, were at least sufficient to prevent or to discover fraud. What occasion then to hasten the plot for fear of numbers meeting at the tomb, since there were numbers always present sufficient to discover any fraud; the only method that could be used in the case? Suppose then that we could not give a satisfactory account of the way of reckoning the time from the crucifixion to the resurrection; yet this we can say, that the resurrection happened during the time that the guards had the sepulchre in keeping; and it is impossible to imagine what opportunity this could give to fraud. Had the time been delayed, the guards removed, and then a resurrection pretended, it might with some colour of reason have been said, Why did he not come within his time? why did he chuse to come after his time, when all witnesses, who had patiently expected the appointed hour, were withdrawn? But now what is to be objected? You think he came too soon. But were not your guards at the door when he came? did they not see what happened? and what other satisfaction could you have had, supposing he had come a day later? By saying of this, I do not mean the decline the Gentleman's objection, which is founded upon a mistake of a way of speaking, common to the Jews and other people; who, when they name any number of days and years, include the first and last of the days or years to make up the sum. Christ, alluding to his own resurrection, says, In three days I will raise it up. The angels report his prediction thus, The Son of Man shall be crucified, and the third day rise again. Elsewhere it is said, After three days; and again, that he was to be in the bowels of the earth three days and three nights. These expressions are equivalent to each other; for we always reckon the night into the day, when we reckon by so many days. If you agree to do a thing ten days hence, you stipulate for forbearance for the nights as well as days; and therefore, in reckoning, two days, and two days and two nights, are the same thing. That the expression, After three days, means inclusive days, is proved by Grotius on Matt. xxvii. 63 and by others. The prediction therefore was, that he would rise on the third day. Now, he was crucified on Friday and buried; he lay in the grave all Saturday, and rose early on Sunday morning. But the Gentleman thinks he ought not to have risen before Monday. Pray try what the use of common language requires to be understood in a like case. Suppose you were told, that your friend sickened on Friday, was let blood on Saturday, and the third day he died; what day would you think he died on? If you have any doubt about it, put the question to the first plain man you meet, and he will resolve it. The Jews could have no doubt in this case; for so they practised in one of the highest points of their law. Every male child was to be circumcised on the eighth day. How did they reckon the days? Why, the day of the birth was one, and the day of the circumcision another; and though a child was born towards the every end of the first day, he was capable of circumcision on any time of the eighth day. And therefore it is not new nor strange, that the third day, in our case, should be reckoned into the number, though Christ rose at the very beginning of it. It is more strange to reckon whole years in this manner; and yet this is the constant method observed in Ptolemy's canon, the most valuable piece of ancient chronology, next to the Bible, now extant. If a King lived over the first day of a year, and died the week after, that whole year is reckoned to his reign. I have now gone through the several objections upon this head: what credit they may gain in this age, I know not; but 'tis plain they had no credit when they were first spread abroad; nay, 'tis evident, that the very persons who set abroad this story of the body being stolen, did not believe it themselves. And, not to insist here upon the plain fact, which was, that the guards were hired to tell this lie by the chief priests, it will appear from the after conduct of the chief priests themselves, that they were conscious that the story was false. Not long after the resurrection of Christ, the disciples having received new power from above, appeard publickly in Jerusalem, and in the very temple, and testified the resurrection of Christ, even before those who had murdered him. What now do the chief priests do? They seize upon the apostles, they threaten them, they beat them,. they scourge them, and all to stop their mouths, insisting that they should say no more of the matter. But why did they not, when they had the disciples in their power, charge them directly with their notorious cheat in stealing the body, and expose them to the people as imposters? This had been much more to their purpose, than all their menaces and ill usage, and would more effectually have undeceived the people. But of this not one word is said. They try to murder them, enter into combinations to assassinate them, prevail with Herod to put one of them to death; but not so much as a charge against them of any fraud in the resurrection. Their orator Tertullus, who could not have missed so fine a topick of declamation, had there been but a suspicion to support it, is quite silent on this head, and is content to flourish on the common-place of sedition and heresy, profaning the temple, and the like: very trifles to his cause, in comparison to the other accusation, had there been any ground to make use of it. And yet as it happens, we are sure the very question of the resurrection came under debate; for Festus tells King Agrippa, that the Jews had certain questions against Paul, of one Jesus which was dead, whom Paul affirmed to be alive. After this, Agrippa hears Paul himself; and had he suspected, much less had he been convinced that there was a cheat in the resurrection, he would hardly have said to Paul at the end of the conference, Almost thou persuadest me to be a Christian. But let us see what the council and senate of the children of Israel thought of this matter, in the most solemn and serious deliberation they ever had about it. Not long after the resurrection, the apostles were taken; the High Priest thought the matter of that weight, that he summoned the council and senate of the children of Israel. The apostles are brought before them, and make their defence. Part of their defence is in these words: The God of our fathers raised up Jesus, whom ye slew and hanged on a tree. The defence was indeed a heavy charge upon the senate, and in the warmth of their anger, their first resolution was to slay them all. But Gamaliel, one of the council, stood up, and told them, that the matter deserved more consideration. He recounted to them the history of several imposters who had perished, and concluded with respect to the case of the apostles then before them: If this work be of men, it will come to nought; but if it be of God, ye cannot overthrow it, lest haply ye be found to fight against God. The council agreed to this advice, and after some ill treatment, the apostles were discharged. I ask now, and let any man of common sense answer, Could Gamaliel possibly have given this advice, and supposed that the hand of God might be with the apostles, if he had known that there was a cheat discovered in the resurrection of Jesus? Could the whole senate have followed this advice, had they believed the discovery of the cheat? Was there not among them one man wise enough to say, How can you suppose God to have anything to do in this affair, when the resurrection of Jesus, upon which all depends, was a notorious cheat, and manifestly proved to be so? I should but lessen the weight of this authority by saying more, and therefore I will rest here, and give way to the Gentleman to go on with his accusation. Mr. A. My Lord, Before I proceed any further, I beg leave to say a few words in reply to what the Gentleman has offered on this head. The Gentleman thinks, that the detection in the case of Lazarus ought to have made the Jews quite unconcerned in the case of Jesus, and secure as to the event of his own resurrection. He says very true, supposing their care had been for themselves: but governors have another care upon their hands, the care of their people; and 'tis not enough for them to guard against being imposed on themselves, they must be watchful to guard the multitude against frauds and deceits. The chief priests were satisfied indeed of the fraud in the case of Lazarus, yet they saw the people deceived by it; and for this reason, and not for their own satisfaction, they used the caution in the case of the resurrection of Jesus, which I before laid before you. In so doing, they are well justified; and the inconsistency charged on the other side, between their opinion of Jesus, and their fear of being imposed on by his pretended resurrection, is fully answered. The next observation relates to the seal of the sepulchre. The Gentleman thinks the seal was used as a check upon the Roman soldiers. But what reason had the Jews to suspect them? They were not disciples of Jesus; they were servants of the Roman governor, and employed in the service of the Jews: and I leave it to the court to judge, whether the Jews set the seal to guard against their friends, or their enemies? But if the seals were really used against the guards, then the breaking of the seals is a proof that the guards were corrupted: and if so, 'tis easy to conceive how the body was removed. As to the disciples, the Gentleman observes, that the part allotted them in the management of the resurrection supposes an unaccountable change in their character. It will not be long before the Gentleman will have occasion for as great a change in their character: for these weak men you will find soon employed in converting the world, and sent to appear before Kings and Princes in the name of their master; soon you will see them grow wise and powerful, and every way qualified for their extensive and important business. The only difference between me and the Gentleman on the other side will be found to be this, that I date this change a little earlier than he does: A small matter, surely, to determine the right of this controversy. The last observation relates to King Agrippa's complaisance to Paul, and Gamaliel's advice. I cannot answer for Agrippa's meaning: but certainly he meant but little; and if this matter is to be tried by his opinion, we know that he never did turn Christian. As for Gamaliel, 'tis probable that he saw great numbers of the people engaged zealously in favour of the apostles, and might think it prudent to pass the matter over in silence, and not to come to extremities. This is a common case in all governments: the multitude and their leaders often escape punishment, not because they do not deserve it, but because it is not, in some circumstances, prudent to exact it. I pass over these things lightly, because the next article contains the great, to us indeed, who live at this distance, the only great question; for whatever reason the Jews had to believe the resurrection, it is nothing to us, unless the story has been conveyed to us upon such evidence as is sufficient to support the weight laid on it. My Lord, we are now to enter upon the last and main article of this case; the nature of the evidence upon which the credit of the resurrection stands. Before I inquire into the qualifications of the particular witnesses whose words we are desired to take in this case, I would ask, why this evidence, which manifestly relates to the most essential point of Christianity, was not put beyond all exception? Many of the miracles of Christ are said to be done in the streets, nay even in the temple, under the observation of all the world; but the like is not so much as pretended as to this; nay, we have it upon the confession of Peter, the ringleader of the apostles, that Christ appeared, not to all the people, but unto witnesses chosen before of God. Why picking and culling of witnesses in this case more than in any other? Does it not import some suspicion, raise some jealousy, that this case would not bear the publick light? I would ask more particularly, Why did not Jesus after his resurrection appear openly to the chief priests and rulers of the Jews? Since his commission related to them in an especial manner, why were not his credentials laid before them? The resurrection is acknowledged to be the chief proof of his mission, why then was it concealed from those who were more than all others concerned in the event of his mission? Suppose an ambassador from some foreign prince should come into England, make his publick entry through the city, pay and receive visits, and at last refuse to shew any letters of credence, or to wait on the King, what would you think of him? Whatever you would think in that case, you must think in this; for there is no difference between them. But we must take the evidence as it is. It was thought proper, in this case, to have select chosen witnesses; and we must now consider who they were, and what reason we have to take their word. The first witness was an angel, or angels. They appeared like men to some women who went early to the sepulchre. If they appeared like men, upon what ground are we to take them for angels? The women saw men, and therefore they can witness only to the seeing of men. But I suppose it is the women's judgement, and not their evidence, that we are to follow in this case. Here then we have a story of one apparition to support the credit of another apparition: and the first apparition hath not so much as the evidence of the women to support it, but is grounded on their superstition, ignorance, and fear. Every country can afford an hundred instances of this kind; and there is this common to them all, that as learning and common sense prevail in any country, they die away, and are no more heard of. The next witnesses are the women themselves. The wisest men can hardly guard themselves against the fears of superstition; poor silly women therefore in this case must needs be unexceptionable witnesses, and fit to be admitted into the number of the chosen witnesses to attest this fact. One part of the account given of them is very rational, that they were surprised and frightened beyond measure; and I leave it to your Lordship and the court to judge, how well qualified they were to give a just relation of what passed. After this, Jesus appears to two of his disciples as they were upon a journey; he joins them, and introduces a discourse about himself; and spent much time, till it began to grow dark, in expounding the prophecies relating to the death and resurrection of the Messias. All this while, the disciples knew him not. But then going into an house to lodge together, at supper he broke bread, and gave it to them; immediately they knew him, immediately he vanished. Here then are two witnesses more. But what will you call them? eye-witnesses? Why their eyes were open, and they had their senses, when he reasoned with them and they knew him not. So far therefore they are witnesses that it was not he. Tell us therefore upon what account you reject the evidence of their sense before the breaking of the bread, and insist on it afterwards? And why did Jesus vanish as soon as known; which has more of the air of an apparition, than of the appearance of a real man restored to life? Cleopas, who was one of these two disciples, finds out the apostles, to make the report of what had passed to them. No sooner was the story told, but Jesus appears among them. They were all frightened and confounded, and thought they saw a spectre. He rebukes them for infidelity, and their slowness in believing the prophecies of his resurrection: and though he refused before to let the women touch him (a circumstance which I ought not to have omitted); yet now he invites the apostles to handle him, to examine his hands and feet, and search the wounds of the cross. But what body was it they examined? The same that came in when the doors were shut; the same that vanished from the two disciples; the same that the women might not touch: in a word, a body quite different from a human body, which we know cannot pass through walls, or appear or disappear at pleasure. What then could their hands or eyes inform them of in this case? Besides, is it credible that God should raise a body imperfectly, with the very wounds in it of which it died? Or, if the wounds were such as destroyed the body before, how could a natural body subsist with them afterwards? There are more appearances of Jesus recorded; but so much of the same kind, so liable to the same difficulties and objections, that I will not trouble your Lordship and the court with a distinct enumeration of them. If the Gentleman on the other side finds any advantage in any of them more than in these mentioned, I shall have an opportunity to consider them in my reply. It may seem surprising to you, perhaps, that a matter of this moment was trusted upon such evidence as this: but it will be still more surprising to consider that the several nations who received the gospel, and submitted to the faith of this article, had not even this evidence: for what people or nation had the evidence of the angels, the women or even of all the apostles? So far from it, that every country had its single apostle, and received the faith upon the credit of his single evidence. We have followed our ancestors without inquiry; and if you examine the thing to the bottom, our belief was originally built upon the word of one man. I shall trouble you, Sir, but with one observation more; which is this: That although in common life we act in a thousand instances upon the faith and credit of human testimony; yet the reason for so doing is not the same in the case before us. In common affairs, where nothing is asserted but what is probable, and possible, according to the usual course of nature, a reasonable degree of evidence ought to determine every man: for the very probability, or possibility of the thing, is an support to the evidence; and in such cases we have no doubt but a man's senses qualify him to be a witness. But when the thing testified is contrary to the order of nature, and, at first sight at least, impossible, what evidence can be sufficient to overturn the constant evidence of nature, which she gives us in the uniform and regular method of her operations? If a man tells me he has been in France, I ought to give a reason for not believing him; but if he tells me he comes from the grave what reason can he give why I should believe him? In the case before us, since the body raised from the grave differed from common natural bodies, as we have before seen; how can I be assured that the apostles' senses qualified them to judge at all of this body; whether it was the same, or not the same which was buried? They handled the body, which yet could pass through doors and walls; they saw it, and sometimes knew it, at other times knew it not. In a word, it seems to be a case exempt from human evidence. Men have limited senses, and a limited reason: when they act within their limits, we may give credit to them; but when they talk of things removed beyond the reach of their senses and reason, we must quit our own, if we believe theirs. Mr. B. My Lord, in answering the objections under this head I shall find myself obliged to change the order in which the gentleman thought proper to place them. He began with complaining, that Christ did not appear publickly to the Jews after his resurrection, and especially to the chief priests and rulers; and seemed to argue, as if such evidence would have put the matter in question out of all doubt: but he concluded with an observation to prove that no evidence in this case can be sufficient; that a resurrection is thing in nature impossible, at least impossible to be proved to the satisfaction of a rational inquirer. If this be the case, why does he require more evidence, since none can be sufficient? Or to what purpose is it to vindicate the particular evidence of the resurrection of Christ, so long as this general prejudice, that a resurrection is incapable of being proved, remains unremoved? I am under a necessity therefore to consider this observation in the first place, that it might lie as a dead weight upon all I have to offer in support of the evidence of Christ's resurrection. The gentleman allows it to be reasonable in many cases to act upon the testimony and credit of others; but he thinks this should be confined to such cases, where the thing testified is probable, possible, and according to the usual course of nature. The Gentleman does not, I suppose, pretend to know the extent of all natural possibilities, much less will he suppose them to be generally known; and therefore his meaning must be, that the testimony of witnesses is to be received only in cases which appear to us to be possible. In any other sense we can have no dispute; for mere impossibilities, which can never exist, can never be proved. Taking the observation therefore in this sense, the proposition is this: That the testimony of others ought not to be admitted, but in such matters as appear probable, or at least possible to our conceptions. For instance: A man who lives in a warm climate, and never saw ice, ought upon no evidence to believe, that rivers freeze, and grow hard, in cold countries; for this is improbable, contrary to the usual course of nature, and impossible according to his notion of things. And yet we all know, that this is a plain manifest case discernible by the senses of men; of which therefore they are qualified to be good witnesses. An hundred such instances might be named; but 'tis needless: for surely nothing is more apparently absurd than to make one man's ability in discerning and his veracity in reporting plain facts, depend upon the skill or ignorance of the hearer. And what has the Gentleman said upon this occasion against the resurrection, more than any man who never saw ice might say against an hundred honest witnesses, who assert that water turns to ice in cold climates? Yet it is very true, that men do not so easily believe, upon testimony of others, things which to them seem improbable or impossible; but the reason is not, because the thing itself admits no evidence, but because the hearer's preconceived opinion outweighs the credit of the reporter and makes his veracity to be called in question. For instance it is natural for a stone to roll down hill, it is unnatural for it to roll up hill: but a stone moving uphill is as much the object of sense as a stone moving downhill; and all men in their senses are as capable of seeing and judging and reporting the fact in one case, as in the other. Should a man then tell you, that he saw a stone go uphill of its own accord, you might question his veracity; but you could not say the thing admitted no evidence, because it was contrary to the law and usual course of nature; for the law of nature formed to yourself from your own experience and reasoning is quite independent of the matter of fact which the man testifies: and whenever you see facts yourself, which contradict your notions of the law of nature, you admit the facts, because you believe yourself; when you do not admit like facts upon the evidence of others, it is because you do not believe them, and not because the facts in their own nature exclude all evidence. Suppose a man should tell you, that he was come from the dead, you would be apt to suspect his evidence. But what would you suspect? That he was not alive when you heard him, saw him, felt him, and conversed with him? You could not suspect this, without giving up all your senses and acting in this case as you act in no other. Here then you would question, whether the man had ever been dead? But would you say, that it is incapable of being made plain by human testimony, that this or that man died a year ago? It can't be said. Evidence in this case is admitted in all courts perpetually Consider it the other way. Suppose you saw a man publicly executed, his body afterwards was wounded by the executioner, and carried and laid in the grave; that after this you should be told, that the man was come to life again; what would you suspect in this case? Not that the man had never been dead; for that you saw yourself: but you would suspect whether he was now alive. But would you say this case excluded all human testimony and that men could not possibly discern , whether one with whom they conversed familiarly was alive or no? Upon what ground could you say this? A man rising from the grave is an object of sense, and can give the same evidence of his being alive, as any other man in the world can give. So that a resurrection considered only as a fact to be proved by evidence, is a plain case; it requires no greater ability in the witnesses, than that they be able to distinguish between a man dead, and a man alive: a point in which I believe every man living thinks himself a judge. I do allow that this case, and others of like nature, require more evidence to give them credit than ordinary cases do. You may therefore require more evidence in these, than in other cases; but it is absurd to say, that such cases admit no evidence, when the things in question are manifestly objects of sense. I allow further, that the Gentleman has rightly stated the difficulty upon the foot of common prejudice; and that it arises from hence, that such cases appear to be contrary to the course of nature. But I desire to consider what this course of nature is. Every man, from the lowest countryman to the highest philosopher frames to himself from his experience and observation, a notion of a course of nature; and is ready to say of everything reported to him that contradicts his experience, that it is contrary to nature. But will the Gentleman say, that everything is impossible or even improbable, that contradicts the notion which men frame to themselves of the course of nature? I think he will not say it. And if he will, he must say that water can never freeze; for it is absolutely inconsistent with the notion which men have of the course of nature, who live in the warm climates. And hence it appears, that when men talk of the course of nature, they really talk of their own prejudices and imaginations; and that sense and reason are not so much concerned in the case as the Gentleman imagines. For I ask, Is it from the evidence of sense, or the evidence of reason that people of warm climates think it contrary to nature, that water should grow solid, and become ice? As for sense, they see indeed that water with them is always liquid; but none of their senses tell them that it can never grow solid. As for reason, it can never so inform them; for right reason can never contradict the truth of things. Our senses then inform us rightly what the usual course of things is; but when we conclude that things cannot be otherwise, we outrun the information of our senses, and the conclusion stands upon prejudice, and not upon reason. And yet such conclusions form what is generally called the course of nature. And when men upon proper evidence and informations admit things contrary to this presupposed course of nature, they do not, as the Gentleman expresses it, quit their own sense and reason; but, in truth, they quit their own mistakes and prejudices. In the case before us, the case of the resurrection, the great difficulty arises from the like prejudice. We all know by experience that all men die, and rise no more; therefore we conclude, that for a dead man to rise to life again, is contrary to the course of nature. And certainly it is contrary to the uniform and settled course of things. But if we argue from hence that it is contrary and repugnant to the real laws of nature and absolutely impossible on that account, we argue without any foundation to support us either from our senses or our reason. We cannot learn from our eyes, or feeling, or any other sense, that it is impossible for a dead body to live again; if we learn it at all, it must be from our reason; and yet what one maxim of reason is contradicted by the supposition of a resurrection? For my own part; when I consider how I live; that all animal motions necessary to my life are independent of my will; that my heart beats without my consent and without my direction; that digestion and nutrition are performed by methods to which I am not conscious; that my blood moves in a perpetual round, which is contrary to all known laws of motion: I cannot but think, that the preservation of my life, in every moment of it, is as great an act of power, as is necessary to raise a dead man to life. And whoever so far reflects upon his own being as to acknowledge that he owes it to a superior power, must needs think, that the same power which gave life to senseless matter at first, and set all the springs and movements a-going at the beginning, can restore life to dead body. For surely it is not a greater thing to give life to a body once dead, than to a body that never was alive. In the next place must be considered the difficulties which the gentleman has laid before you, with regard to the nature of Christ's body after the resurrection. He has produced some passages which which, he thinks, imply, that the body was not a real natural body, but a mere phantom, or apparition: and thence concludes, that there being no real object of sense, there can be no evidence in the case. Presumptions are of no weight against positive evidence; and every account of the resurrection assures us, that the body of Christ was seen, felt, and handled by many persons; who were called upon by Christ so to do, that they might be assured that he had flesh and bones, and was not a mere spectre, as they, in their first surprize, imagined him to be. It is impossible that they who give this account, should mean, by anything they report, to imply that he had no real body; it is certain, then, that when the Gentleman makes use of what they say to this purpose, he uses their sayings contrary to their meaning: for it is not pretended that they say, that Christ had not a real human body after the resurrection; nor is it pretended they had any such thought, except only upon the first surprize of seeing him, and before they had examined him with their eyes and hands. But something they have said, which the Gentleman, according to his notions of philosophy, thinks, implies that the body was not real. To clear this point, therefore, I must lay before you the passages referred to, and consider how justly the Gentleman reasons from them. The first passage relates to Mary Magdalene, who, the first time she saw Christ, was going to embrace his feet, as the custom of the country was: Christ says to her, [John 20:17] Touch me not, for I am not yet ascended to my Father; but go to my brethren and tell them, etc. Hence the gentleman concludes, that Christ's body was not such an one as would bear the touch. But how does he infer this? Is it from these words Touch me not? It cannot be: for thousands say it every day, without giving the least suspicion, that their bodies are not capable of being touched. The conclusion then must be built on those other words, For I have not yet ascended to my Father. but what have these words to do with the reality of his body? It might be real or not real, for anything that is here said. There is a difficulty in these words, and it may be hard to give the true sense of them; but there is no difficulty in seeing that they have no relation to the nature of Christ's body; for of his body nothing is said. The natural sense of the place as I collect, by comparing this passage with Matthew 28:9 is this. Mary Magdalene, upon seeing Jesus, fell at his feet, and laid hold of them and held them as if she meant never to let them go: Christ said to her, "Touch me not, or hang not about me now; you will have other opportunities of seeing me for I go not yet to my Father: lose no time then but go quickly with my message to my brethren." I am not concerned to support this particular interpretation of the passage; it is sufficient to my purpose, to show that the words cannot possibly relate to the nature of Christ's body one way or other. The next passage relates to Christ's joining two of his disciples upon the road and conversing with them without being known by them: it grew dark, they pressed him to stay with them that night; he went in with them, broke bread, blessed it, and gave it them, and then they knew him; and immediately he disappeared. The circumstance of disappearing, shall be considered under the next head, with other objections of the like kind. At present I shall only examine the other parts of this story, and inquire whether they afford any ground to conclude that the body of Christ was not a real one. Had this piece of history been related of any other person I think such suspicion could have risen. For what is there unnatural or uncommon in this account? Two men meet an acquaintance whom they thought dead: They converse with him for some time, without suspecting who he was; the very persuasion they were under that he was dead, contributed greatly to their not knowing him; besides, he appeared in a habit and form different from what he used when he conversed with them; appeared to them on a journey and walked with them side by side; in which situation no one of the company has a full view of another: afterwards, when they were at supper together, and lights brought in, they plainly discerned who he was. Upon this occasion, the Gentleman asks what sort of witnesses these are? eye-witnesses? No; before supper they were eye-witnesses, says the Gentleman, that the person whom they saw was not Christ: and then he demands a reason for our rejecting the evidence of their sense when they did not know Christ, and insisting on it when they did. It is no uncommon thing for men to catch themselves and others by such notable acute questions, and to be led by the sprightliness of their imagination out of the road of truth and common sense. I beg leave to tell the Gentleman a short story, and then to ask him his own question. A certain Gentleman who had been some years abroad happened in his return to England through Paris to meet his own sister there. She was not expecting to see him there, nor he to see her, they conversed together with other company, at a publick house, for great part of a day, without knowing each other. At last the Lady began to shew great signs of disorder; her color came and went, and the eyes of the company were drawn toward her; and then she cried out, Oh my brother! and was hardly held from fainting. Suppose now this Lady were to depose upon oath in a court of justice that she saw her brother at Paris; I would ask the Gentleman, Whether he would object to the evidence, and say, that she was as good an eye-witness that her brother was not there, as that he was; and demand of the court, why they rejected the evidence of her senses when she did not know her brother, and were ready to believe it when she did. When the question is answered in this case, I desire only to have the benefit of it in the case now before you. But if you shall be of opinion, that there was some extraordinary power used on this occasion, and incline to think that the expression, their eyes were holden, imports as much; then the case will fall under the next article. In which We are to consider Christ's vanishing out of sight; his coming in and going out when the doors were shut; and such like passages; which, as they fall under one consideration, so I shall speak to them together. But it is necessary first to see what the Apostles affirm distinctly in their accounts of these facts; for I think more has been said for them, than ever they said, or intended to say for themselves. In one place [Luke 24:31] it is said, he vanished out of their sight. Which translation is corrected in the margin of our Bibles thus: He ceased to be seen of them. And the original imports no more. It is said in another place, that the disciples being together, and the doors shut, Jesus came and stood in the midst of them. How he came, is not said; much less is it said that he came through the door, or the keyhole; and for anything that is said to the contrary, he might come in at the door, though the disciples saw not the door open, nor him, till he was in the midst of them. But the Gentleman thinks these passages prove that the disciples saw no real body, but an apparition. I am afraid that the Gentleman, after all his contempt of apparitions, and the superstition on which they are founded, has fallen into the snare himself, and is arguing upon no better principles than the common notions which the vulgar have of apparitions. Why else does he imagine these passages to be inconsistent with the reality of Christ's body? Is there no way for a real body to disappear? Try the experiment now; do but put out the candles, we shall all disappear. If a man falls asleep in the day-time, all things disappear to him; his senses are all locked up; and yet all things about him continue to be real, and his senses continue perfect. As shutting out all rays of light would make all things disappear; so intercepting the rays of light from any particular body, would make that disappear. Perhaps something like this was the case; or perhaps something else, which we know not. But, be the case what it will, the Gentleman's conclusion is founded on no principle of true philosophy: for it does not follow that a body is not real because I lose sight of it suddenly. I shall be told, perhaps, that this way of accounting for the passages is as wonderful, and as much out of the common course of things, as the other. Perhaps it is so; and what then? Surely the Gentleman does not expect, that, in order to prove the reality of the greatest miracle that ever was, I should shew that there was nothing miraculous in it, but that everything happened according to the ordinary course of things. My only concern is, to shew, that these passages do not infer, that the body of Christ after the resurrection was no real body. I wonder the Gentleman did not carry his argument a little further, and prove, that Christ, before his death, had no real body; for we read, that when the multitude would have thrown him down a precipice, he went through the midst of them unseen. Now, nothing happened after his resurrection more unaccountable than this that happened before it; and if the argument be good at all, it will be good to prove, that there never was such a man as Jesus in the world. Perhaps the gentleman may think that this is a little too much to prove: and if he does, I hope he will quit the argument in one case as well as in the other; for difference there is none. Hitherto we have been called upon to prove the reality of Christ's body, and that it was the same after the resurrection that was before: but the next objection complains, that the body was too much the same with that which was buried; for the Gentleman thinks that it had the same mortal wounds open and uncured of which he died. His observation is grounded upon the words which Christ uses to Thomas: [John 20:27] Reach hither thy finger, and behold my hands; and reach hither thy hand and thrust it into my side. Is it here affirmed that Thomas did actually put his hand into his side, or so much as see his wounds fresh and bleeding? Nothing like it: but it is supposed from the words of Christ; for if he had no wounds, he would not have invited Thomas to probe them. Now, the meaning of Christ will best appear by an account of the occasion he had to use this speech. He had appeared to his disciples, in the absence of Thomas, and shewn them his hands and feet, which still had the marks of his crucifixion: the disciples report this to Thomas: he thought the thing impossible, and expressed his unbelief, as men are apt to do when they are positive, in a very extravagant manner: You talk, says he, of the prints of the nails in his hands and feet; for my part, says he, I'll never believe this thing, except I shall see in his hands the print of the nails, and put my finger into the print of the nails, and thrust my hand into his side. Now, in the first place, here is nothing said of open wounds; Thomas talks only of putting his finger into the print, that is, the scar of the nails, and thrusting his hand into his side. And, in common speech, to thrust an hand into any one's side does not signify to thrust it through the side into the bowels. Upon this interpretation of the words, which is a plain and natural one, the Gentleman's objection is quite gone. But suppose Thomas to mean what the Gentleman means; in that case the words of Christ are manifestly a severe reproach to him for his infidelity: Here, says Christ, are my hands and my side; take the satisfaction you require; thrust your fingers into my hands, your hand into my side; repeating to him his own words, and calling him to his own conditions; which, to a man beginning to see his extravagance, is of all rebukes the severest. Such forms of speech are used on many occasions, and are never understood to import that the thing proposed is proper, or always practicable. When the Grecian women reproached their sons with cowardice, and called to them as they were flying from the enemy, to come and hide themselves, like children as they were, in their mothers' wombs; he would be ridiculous who had asked the question, Whether the women really thought they could take their sons into their wombs again? I have now gone through the objections which were necessarily to be removed before I could state the evidence in this case. I am sensible I have taken up too much of your time; but I have this to say in my excuse, That objections built on popular notions and prejudices, are easily conveyed to the mind in few words; and so conveyed, make strong impressions: but whoever answers the objections, must encounter all the notions to which they are allied, and to which they owe their strength; and it is well if with many words he can find admittance. I come now to consider the evidence on which our belief of the resurrection stands. And here I am stopped again. A general exception is taken to the evidence, that it is imperfect, unfair; and a question is asked, Why did not Christ appear publickly to all the people, especially to the magistrates? Why were some witnesses culled and chosen out, and others excluded ? It may be sufficient perhaps to say, that where there are witnesses enow, no judge, no jury complains for want of more; and therefore, if the witnesses we have are sufficient, it is no objection that we have not others, and more. If three credible man attest a will, which are as many as the law requires, would any body ask, why all the town were not called to set their hands? But why were these witnesses culled and chosen out? Why? For this reason, that they might be good ones. Does not every wise men chuse proper witnesses to his deed and to his will? and does not a good choice of witnesses give strength to every deed? How comes it to pass, then, that the very thing which shuts out all suspicion in other cases should in this case only be of all others the most suspicious thing itself? What reason there is to make any complaints on the behalf of the Jews, may be judged, in part, from what has already appeared. Christ suffered openly in their sight; and they were so well apprised of his prediction, that he should rise again, that they set a guard on his sepulchre; and from their guards they learned the truth. Every soldier was to them a witness of the resurrection of their own chusing. After this they had not one apostle,(which the Gentleman observes was the case of other people), but all the apostles, and many other witnesses with them, and in their power. The apostles testified the resurrection to them; not only to the people, but to the elders of Israel assembled in Senate: to support their evidence they were enabled to work, and did work miracles openly in the name of Christ. These people therefore have the least reason to complain; and had of all others the fullest evidence; and in some respects such as none but themselves could have, for they only were keepers of the sepulchre.I believe, if the gentleman was to chuse an evidence to his own satisfaction in a like case, he would desire no more, than to keep the sepulchre, with a sufficient number of guards. But the argument goes further. It is said, that Jesus was sent with a special commission to the Jews; that he was their Messias; and as his resurrection was his main credential, he ought to have appeared publickly to the rulers of the Jews after his resurrection: that in doing otherwise, he acted like an ambassador pretending authority from his prince, but refusing to show his letters of credence. I was afraid, when I suffered myself to be drawn into this argument, that I should be led into matters fitter to be decided by men of another profession, than by lawyers. But since there is no help now, I will lay before you what appears to me to be the natural and plain account of this matter; leaving it to others, who are better qualified, to give a fuller answer to the objection. It appears to me, by the accounts we have of Jesus, that he had two distinct offices: one, as the Messias particularly promised to the Jews; another, as he was to be the great high priest of the world. With respect to the first office, he is called [Heb. 3:1] the apostle of the Hebrews; the [Rom. 15:8] minister of the circumcision; and says himself, [Matt 15:24] I am not sent, but unto the lost sheep of the house of Isreal. Accordingly, when he sent out his Apostles in his lifetime to preach, he expressly forbids them to go to the Gentiles or Samaritans; but go, [Matt. 10:6] says he, to the lost sheep of the House of Israel. Christ continued in the discharge of this office during the time of his natural life, till he was finally rejected by the Jews. And it is observable, that the last time he spoke to the people according to St. Matthew's account, he solemnly took leave of them, and closed his commission. He had been long among them publishing glad tidings; but when all his preaching, all his miracles, had proved to be in vain, the last thing he did was, to denounce the woes they had brought on themselves. The 23d chapter of St. Matthew recites these woes; and at the end of them Christ takes this passionate leave of Jerusalem: "Oh, Jerusalem, Jerusalem, thou that killest the prophets and stonest them which are sent unto thee, how often would I have gathered thy children together, even as a hen gathereth her chickens under her wings, and ye would not! Behold, your house is left unto you desolate. For I say unto you, Ye shall not see me henceforth, till ye shall say, Blessed is he that cometh in the name of the Lord." It is remarkable, that this passage, as recorded by St. Matthew and St. Luke, twice over, is determined, by the circumstances, to refer to the near approach of his own death, and the extreme hatred of the Jews to him: and therefore those words, Ye shall not see me henceforth, are to be dated from the time of his death, and manifestly point out the end of his particular mission to them. From the making this declaration, as it stands in St. Matthew, his discourses are to his disciples, and they chiefly relate to the miserable and wretched condition of the Jews, which was now decreed, and soon to be accomplished. Let me now ask, Whether, in this state of things, any farther credentials of Christ's commission to the Jews could be demanded or expected? He was rejected, his commission was determined, and with it the fate of the nation was determined also: what use then of more credentials? As to appearing to them after his resurrection, he could not do it consistently with his own prediction, Ye shall see me no more, till ye shall say, Blessed is he that cometh in the name of the Lord. The Jews were not in this disposition after the resurrection, nor are they in it yet. The resurrection was the foundation of Christ's new commission, which extended to all the world. Then it was he declared, that all power was given unto him in heaven and in earth. Then he gave a new commission to his disciples, not restrained to the house of Israel, but to go and teach all nations. This prerogative the Jews had under this commission, that the gospel was every-where first offered to them; but in no other terms than it was offered to the rest of the world. Since then this commission, of which the resurrection was the foundation, extended to all the world alike; what ground is there to demand special and particular evidence to the Jews? The Emperor and the Senate of Rome were a much more considerable part of the world, than the chief priests and the synagogue; why does not the Gentleman object then, that Christ did not shew himself to Tiberius and his senate? And since all men have an equal right in this case, Why may not the same demand be made for every country; nay, for every age? And then the Gentleman may bring the question nearer home; and ask, Why Christ did not appear in England in King George's reign? There is, to my apprehension, nothing more unreasonable, than to neglect and despise plain and sufficient evidence before us, and to sit down to imagine what kind of evidence would have pleased us; and then to make the want of such evidence an objection to the truth; which yet, if well considered, would be found to be well established. The observation I have made upon the resurrection of Christ, naturally leads to another; which will help to account for the nature of the evidence we have in this great point. As the resurrection was the opening a new commission, in which all the world had an interest; so the concern naturally was, to have a proper evidence to establish this truth, and which should be of equal weight to all. This did not depend upon the satisfaction given to private persons, whether they were magistrates or not magistrates; but upon the conviction of those, whose office it was to be, to bear testimony to this truth in the world. In this sense the Apostles were chosen to be witnesses of the resurrection, because they were chosen to bear testimony to it in the world; and not because they only were admitted to see Christ after his resurrection: for the fact is otherwise. The gospel indeed, concerned to shew the evidence on which the faith of the world was to rest, is very particular in setting forth the ocular demonstration which the apostles had of the resurrection; and mentions others, who saw Christ after his resurrection, only accidentally, and as the thread of the history led to it. But yet it is certain, there were many others, who had this satisfaction, as well as the apostles. St. Luke tells us, that when Christ appeared to the eleven apostles, there were others with them [Luke 24:33]; who they were, or how many there were, he says not. But it appears in the Acts, when an apostle was to be chosen in the room of Judas; and the chief qualification required was, that he should be one capable of being a witness of the resurrection; that there were present an hundred and twenty so qualified [Acts 1. Compare vv. 15,21,22 together]. And Saint Paul says, that Christ after his rising was seen by 500 at once, many of whom were living when he appealed to their evidence. So that the Gentleman is mistaken, when he imagines that a few only were chosen to see Christ after he came from the grave. The truth of the case is, that, out of those who saw him, some were chosen to bear testimony to the world; and for that reason had the fullest demonstration of the truth, that they might be the better able to give satisfaction to others. And what was there in this conduct to complain of? what to raise any jealousy or suspicion? As to the witnesses themselves, the first the Gentleman takes notice of, are the angels and the women. The mention of angels led naturally to apparitions: and the women were called poor silly women; and there is an end to their evidence. But to speak seriously: will the Gentleman pretend to prove, that there are no intelligent beings between God and man; or that they are not ministers of God; or that they were improperly employed in this great and wonderful work, the resurrection of Christ? Till some of these points are disproved we may be at rest; for the angels were ministers, and not witnesses of the resurrection. And it is not upon the credit of the poor silly women that we believe angels were concerned, but upon the report of those who wrote the gospels, who deliver it as a truth known to themselves, and not merely as a report taken from the women. But for the women what shall I say? Silly as they were, I hope at least they had eyes and ears, and could tell what they heard and saw. In this case they tell no more. They report that the body was not in the sepulchre; but so far from reporting the resurrection; that they did not believe it, and were very anxious to find to what place the body was removed. Further they were not employed. For, I think, the Gentleman in another part observes rightly, that they were not sent to bear testimony to any people. But suppose them to be witnesses; suppose them to be improper ones; yet the evidence of the men surely is not the worse, because some wonen happened to see the same thing which they saw. And if men only must be admitted, of them we have enow to establish this truth. I will not spend your time in enumerating these witnesses, or in setting forth the demonstration they had of the truth which they report. These things are well known. If you question their sincerity, they lived miserably, and died miserably, for the sake of this truth. And what greater evidence of sincerity can man give or require? And what is still more, they were not deceived in their expectation of being ill treated; for he who employed them, told them beforehand that the world would hate them, and treat them with contempt and cruelty. But, leaving these weighty and well known circumstances to your own reflexion, I beg leave to lay before you another evidence, passed over in silence by the Gentleman on the other side. He took notice, that a resurrection was so extraordinary a thing, that no human evidence could support it. I am not sure that he is not in the right. If twenty men were to come into England with such a report from a distant country, perhaps they might not find twenty more here to believe their story. And I rather think the Gentleman may be in the right, because in the present case I see clearly, that the credit of the resurrection of Christ was not trusted to mere human evidence. To what evidence it was trusted, we find by his own declaration: The Spirit of truth, which proceedeth from the Father, he shall testify of me. And ye also (speaking to his apostles) shall bear witness, because ye have been with me from the beginning [John 15:26,27]. And therefore, though the apostles had conversed with him forty days after his resurrection, and had received his commission to go teach all nations; yet he expressly forbids them entering upon the work, till they should receive powers from above [Acts 1:14] And St. Peter explains the evidence of the resurrection in this manner: We (the apostles) are his witnesses of these things; and so is also the Holy Ghost, whom God hath given to them who obey him [Acts 5:32]. Now, what were the powers received by the apostles? Where they not the powers of wisdom and courage, by which they were enabled to appear before rulers and princes in the name of Christ; the power of miracles, even of raising the dead to life; by which they convinced the world, that God was with them in what they said and did? With respect to this evidence, St. John says, If we receive the witness of men, the witness of God is greater. [I John 5:9] Add to this, that the apostles had a power to communicate these gifts to believers. Can you wonder that men believed the reality of those powers of which they were partakers, and became conscious to themselves? With respect to these communicated powers, I suppose, St. John speaks, when he says, He that believeth on the Son of God hath the witness in himself: [I John 5:10] appealing, not to an inward testimony of the Spirit, in the sense of some modern enthusiasts; but to the powers of the Spirit, which believers received, and which were seen in the effects that followed. It was objected, That the apostles separated themselves to the work of the ministry, and one went into one country, another to another; and, consequently, that the belief of the resurrection was originally received every where upon the testimony of one witness. I will not examine this fact. Suppose it to be so. But did this one witness go alone, when he was attended with the powers of heaven? Was not every blind man restored to sight, and every lame man to his feet, a new witness to the truth reported by the first? Besides, when the people of different countries came to compare notes, and found that they had all received the same account of Christ and of his doctrine; then surely the evidence of these distant witnesses thus united, became stronger than if they had told their story together: for twelve men separately examined form a much stronger proof for the truth of any fact, than twelve men agreeing together in one story. If the same thing were to happen in our own time: if one or two were to come into England, and report that a man was raised from the dead; and, in consequence of it, teach nothing but that we ought to love God and our neighbors: if, to confirm their report, they should, before our eyes, cure the blind, the deaf, the lame, and even raise the dead to life: if, endued with all these powers, they should live in poverty and distress, and patiently submit to all that scorn, contempt, and malice could contrive to distress them; and at last sacrifice even their lives in justification of the truth of their report: if upon inquiry we should find, that all the countries in Europe had received the same account, supported by the same miraculous powers, attested in like manner by the sufferings, and confirmed by the blood of the witnesses: I would fain know what any reasonable man would do in this case? Would he despise such evidence? I think he would not. And whoever thinks otherwise, must say, that a resurrection, though in its own nature possible, is yet such a thing, in which we ought not to believe either God or man. Judge. Have you done, Sir? Mr. B. Yes, my Lord. Judge. Go on, Mr. A., if you have anything to say in reply. Mr. A. My Lord, I shall trouble you with very little. The objections and answers under this head, I shall leave to the judgment of the court; and beg leave only to make an observation or two upon the last part of the Gentleman's argument. And first, with respect to the sufferings of the apostles and disciples of Jesus, and the argument drawn from thence for the truth of their doctrines and assertions, I beg leave to observe to you, that there is not a false religion or pretence in the world, but can produce the same authority, and show many instances of men who have suffered even to death for the truth of their several professions. If we consult only modern story we shall find Papists suffering for Popery, Protestants for their religion. And among Protestants every sect has had its martyrs; Puritans, Quakers, Fifth-monarchy men. In Henry VIII's time England saw both Popish and Protestant martyrs; in Queen Mary's reign the rage fell upon Protestants; in Queen Elizabeth's Papists and Puritans were called sometimes, though rarely, to this trial. In later times, sometimes churchmen, sometimes dissenters were persecuted. What must we say, then? All these sufferers had not truth with them; and yet, if there be any weight in this argument from suffering they have all the right to plead it. But I may be told, perhaps, that men by their sufferings, though they do not prove their doctrines to be true, yet prove at least their own sincerity: as if it were a thing impossible for men to dissemble at the point of death. Alas! how many instances are there of men's denying facts plainly proved, asserting facts plainly disproved, even with the rope around their necks? Must all such pass for innocent sufferers, sincere men? If not, it must be allowed, that a man's word at the point of death is not always to be relied on. Another observation I would make, is with respect to the evidence of the Spirit, on which so much stress is laid. It has been hitherto insisted on, that the resurrection was a matter of fact, and such a fact as was capable and proper to be supported by the evidence of sense. How comes it about, that this evidence, this which is the proper evidence, is given up as insufficient, and a new improper evidence introduced? Is it not surprising, that one great miracle should want an hundred more to prove it? Every miracle is itself an appeal to sense, and therefore admits no evidence but that of sense. And there is no connexion between a miracle done this year and last year. It does not follow, therefore, because Peter cured a lame man, (allowing the fact), that therefore Christ rose from the dead. But allowing the Gentleman all he demands, what is to us? They who had the witness within them, did perhaps very well to consult, and to take his word; but how am I, or others, who have not this witness is us, the better for it? If the first ages of the church saw all the wonders related by the Gentleman, and believed, it shews at least, in his opinion, that this strong evidence was necessary to create the belief he requires; why then does he require this belief of us, who have not this strong evidence? Judge. Very well. Gentlemen of the jury, You have heard the proofs and arguments on both sides, and it is now your part to give a verdict. Here the Gentlemen whispered together, and the Foreman stood up. Foreman. My Lord, The case has been long, and consists of several articles; therefore the jury hope you will give them your directions. Judge. No, no; you are very able to judge without my help. Mr. A. My Lord, Pray consider, you appointed this meeting and chose your office. Mr. B. and I have gone through our parts, and have some right on your doing your part. Mr. B. I must join, Sir, in that request. Judge. I have often heard, that all honour has a burden attending it; but I did not suspect it in this office, which I conferred upon myself. But, since it must be so, I will recollect, and lay before you, as well as I can, the substance of the debate. Gentlemen of the jury, The question before you, is Whether the witnesses of the resurrection of Christ are guilty of giving false evidence, or no? Two sorts of objections, or accusations, are brought against them. One charges fraud and deceit on the transaction itself; the other charges the evidence as forged, and insufficient to support the credit of so extraordinary an event. There are also three periods of time to be considered. The first takes in the ministry of Christ, and ends at his death. During this period the fraud is supposed to be contrived. The second reaches from his death to his resurrection. During this period the fraud is supposed to be executed. The third begins from the resurrection, and takes in the whole ministry of the apostles. And here the evidence they gave the world for this fact is the main consideration. As to the first period of time, and the fraud charged upon Jesus, I must observe to you, that this charge had no evidence to support it; all the facts reported of Jesus stand in full contradiction to it. To suppose, as the council did, that this fraud might possibly appear, if we had any Jewish books written at the time, is not to bring proof, but to wish for proof: for, as it was rightly observed on the other side, how does Mr. A. know there were any such books? And since they are lost, how does he know what was in them? Were such books extant, they might probably prove beyond dispute the facts recorded in the gospels. You were told, that the Jews were a very superstitious people, much addicted to prophecy; and particularly, that they had a strong expectation about the time that Christ appeared, to have a victorious prince rise among them. This is laid as the ground of suspicion; and, in fact, many imposters, you are told, set up upon these notions of the people; and thence it is inferred, that Christ built his scheme upon the strength of these popular prejudices. But when this fact came to be examined on the other side, it appeared, that Christ was so far from falling in with these notions, and abusing the credulity of the people, that it was his main point, to correct these prejudices, to oppose these superstitions; and by these very means he fell into disgrace with his countrymen, and suffered as one who, in their opinion, destroyed the Law and the Prophets. With respect to temporal power, so far was he from aiming at it, that he refused it when offered: so far from giving any hopes of it to his disciples, that he invited men upon quite different terms: To take up the cross, and follow him. And it is observable, that, after he had foretold his death and resurrection, he continued to admonish his disciples of the evils they were to suffer; to tell them, that the world would hate them, and abuse them; which surely to common sense has no appearance that he was then contriving a cheat, or encouraging his disciples to execute it. But as ill supported as this charge is, there was no avoiding it; it was necessity and not choice, which drove the Gentleman to it: for since Christ had foretold his resurrection, if the whole was a cheat, he certainly was conscious to it, and consequently the plot was laid in his own time. And yet the supposing Christ conscious to such a fraud in these circumstance, is contrary to all probability. It is very improbable, that he, or any man, should, without any temptation, contrive a cheat to take place after his death. And if this could be supposed, it is highly improbable that he should give publick notice of it, and thereby put all men on their guard; especially considering there were only a few women, and twelve men, of low fortunes, and mean education, to conduct the plot, and the whole power of the Jews and Romans to oppose it. Mr. A. seemed sensible of these difficulties, and therefore would have varied the charge, and have made Christ an enthusiast, and his disciples only cheats. This was not properly moved, and therefore not debated; for which reason I shall pass it over with this short observation; that enthusiasm is as contrary to the whole character and conduct of Christ, as even fraud is. Besides, this imagination, if allowed, goes only to Christ's own part; and leaves the charge of fraud, in its full extent, upon the management from the time of his death; and therefore is of no use, unless the fraud afterwards be apparent. For if there really was a resurrection, it will sufficiently answer the charge of enthusiasm. I pass on to the second period, to consider what happened between the death and resurrection of Christ. And here it agreed that Christ died, and was buried. So far then there was no fraud. For the better understanding the charge here, we must recollect a material circumstance reported by one of the evangelists; which is this: After Christ was buried, the chief priests and Pharisees came to Pilate, the Roman governor, and informed him, that this deceiver (meaning Jesus) had in his lifetime foretold, that he would rise again after three days; that they suspected his disciples would steal away the body, and pretend a resurrection; and then the last error would be worse than the first. They therefore desire a guard to watch the sepulchre, to prevent all fraud. They had one granted; accordingly they placed a watch on the sepulchre, and sealed up the stone at the mouth of it. What the event of this case was, the same writer tells us. The guards saw the stone removed by angels, and for fear they became as dead men: when they came to the city, they reported to the chief priests what had happened: a council is called, and a resolution taken to bribe the soldiers to say, that the body was stolen while they were asleep; and the council undertook to excuse the soldiers to Pilate, for their negligence in falling asleep when they were on duty. Thus the fact stands in the original record. Now, the council for Woolston maintains, that the story reported by the soldiers, after they had been bribed by the chief priests, contains the true account of this pretended resurrection. The Gentleman was sensible of a difficulty in his way, to account for the credit which the Jews gave to the prediction of Christ; for if, as he pretends, they knew him to be an impostor, what reason had they to take any notion of his prediction? And therefore, that very caution in this case betrayed their concern, and shewed, that they were not satisfied that his pretensions were groundless. To obviate this, he says, That they had discovered before, one great cheat in the case of Lazarus, and therefore were suspicious of another in this case. He was answered, That the discovery of a cheat in the case before mentioned, ought rather to have set them at ease, and made them quite secure as to the event of the prediction. In reply he says, That the chief priests, however satisfied of the cheat themselves, had found that it prevailed among the people; and, to secure the people from being further imposed on, they used the caution they did. This is the substance of the argument on both sides. I must observe to you, that this reasoning from the case of Lazarus has no foundation in history. There is no pretence for saying, that the Jews in this whole affair had any particular regard to the raising of Lazarus. And if they had any such just suspicion, why was it not mentioned at the trial of Christ? There was then an opportunity of opening the whole fraud, and undeceiving the people. The Jews had a plain law for punishing a false prophet; and what could be a stronger conviction, than such a cheat made manifest? Why then was this advantage lost? The Gentleman builds this observation on these words, So the last error shall be worse than the first. But is there here anything said about Lazarus? No. The words are a proverbial form of speech, and probably were used without relation to any particular case. But if a particular meaning must be assigned, it is more probable, that the words being used to Pilate, contained a reason applicable to him. Now, Pilate had been drawn in to consent to the crucifixion, for fear the Jews should set up Jesus to be their King in opposition to Caesar; therefore say the chief priests to him, If once the people believe him to be risen from the dead, the last error will be worse than the first; i.e. they will be more inclined and encouraged to rebel against the Romans than ever. This is a natural sense of the words, as they are used to move the Roman governor to allow them a guard. Whether Lazarus were dead or alive; whether Christ came to destroy the Law and the Prophets, or to establish or confirm them, was of little moment to Pilate. It is plain, he was touched by none of these considerations; and refused to be concerned in the affair of Christ, till he was alarmed with the suggestions of danger to the Roman state. This was the first fear that moved him; must not therefore the second now suggested to him be of the same kind? The next circumstance to be considered, is that of the seal upon the stone of the sepulchre. The council for Woolston supposes an agreement between the Jews and disciples about setting this seal. But for this agreement there is no evidence; nay, to suppose it, contradicts the whole series of the history, as the Gentleman on the other side observed. I will not enter into the particulars of this debate; for it is needless. The plain natural account given of this matter, shuts out all other suppositions. Mr. B. observed to you, that the Jews having a guard, set the seal to prevent any combination among the guards to deceive them: which seems a plain and satisfactory account. The council for W. replies, Let the use of the seals be what they will, it is plain they were broken; and if they were used as a check upon the Roman soldiers, then probably they consented to the fraud: and then it is easily understood how the body was removed. I must observe to you here, that this suspicion agrees neither with the account given by the evangelist, nor with the story set about by the Jews; so that it is utterly unsupported by any evidence. Nor has it any probability in it. For what could move Pilate, and the Roman soldiers, to propagate such a cheat? He had crucified Christ, for no other reason, but for fear the people would revolt from the Romans; perhaps too he consented to place a guard upon the sepulchre, to put an end to the people's hope in Jesus: and is it likely at last that he was consenting to a cheat, to make the people believe him risen from the dead; the thing, of all others, which he was obliged, as his apprehensions were, to prevent? The next circumstance insisted on as a proof of the fraud, is, that Jesus rose from the dead before the time he had appointed. Mr. A. supposes that the disciples hastened the plot, for fear of falling in with multitudes, who waited only for the appointed time to be at the sepulchre, and to see with their own eyes. He was answered, That the disciples were not, could not be concerned, or be present at moving the body; that they were dispersed, and lay concealed for fear of the Jews: that hastening the plot, was of no use; for the resurrection happened whilst the guards were at the sepulchre; who were probably enow to prevent violence; certainly enow to discover it, if any were used. This difficulty then rests merely upon the reckoning of the time. Christ died on Friday, rose early on Sunday. The question is, Whether this was rising the third day, according to the prediction? I will refer the authorities made use of in this case to your memory, and add only one observation, to shew that it was indeed the third day, according as the people of the country reckoned. When Christ talked with the two disciples who knew him not, they gave him an account of his own crucifixion, and their disappointment; and tell him, Today is the third day since these things were done [Luke24:21]. Now, this conversation was on the very day of the resurrection. And the disciples thought of nothing less than answering an objection against the resurrection, which as yet they did not believe. They recount only a matter of fact, and reckon the time according to the usage of their country, and call the day of the resurrection the third day from the crucifixion; which is a plain evidence, in what manner the Jews reckoned in this and like cases. As the objections in this case are founded upon the story reported by the Jews, and the Roman soldiers, Mr. B. in his answer, endeavored to shew, from some historical passages, that the Jews themselves did not believe the story. His first argument was, That the Jews never questioned the disciples for this cheat, and the share they had in it, when they had them in their power. And yet who sees not that it was very much in their purpose so to do? To this there is no reply. The second argument was from the treatment St. Paul had from King Agrippa, and his saying to St. Paul, Almost thou persuadest me to be a Christian: A speech which he reckons could not be made by a prince, to one concerned in carrying out a known cheat. To this the Gentleman replies, That Agrippa never did become a Christian; and that no great stress is to be laid upon his compliance to his prisoner. But allowing that there was something of humanity and civility in the expression, yet such civility could hardly be paid to a known impostor. There is a propriety even in civility. A prince may be civil to a rebel; but he will hardly compliment him for his loyalty: he may be civil to a poor sectary; but if he knows him to be a cheat, he will scarcely compliment him with hopes that he will be of his party. The third argument was from the advice given by Gamaliel to the council of the Jews, to let the apostles alone, for fear they themselves should be found to fight against God: A supposition which the Gentleman thinks absolutely inconsistent with his, or the council's being persuaded, that the apostles were guilty of any fraud in managing the resurrection of Christ. The Gentleman replies, That Gamaliel's advice respected only the numbers of people deceived; and was a declaration of his opinion, that it was not prudent to come to extremities till the people were in a better temper. This deserves consideration. First, I observe, that Gamaliel's words are express, Lest ye be found to fight against God; which reason respects God, and not the people. And the suppostion is, that the hand of God might possibly be in this work: A saying which could not have come from him, or have been received by the council, if they had believed the resurrection to have been a cheat. Secondly, It is remarkable, that the miracles wrought by the apostles after the death of Christ, those especially which occasioned the calling of this council, had a much greater effect upon the Jews, than even the miracles of Christ himself. They held out against all the wonders of Christ, and were perpetually plotting his death, not doubting but that would put an end to all their trouble: but when, after his death, they saw the same powers continue with the apostles, they saw no end of the affair, but began to think in earnest there might be more in it than they were willing to believe. And, upon the report made to them of the apostle's works, they make serious reflexion, and doubted whereunto this would grow. And though in their anger and vexation of heart they thought of desperate remedies, and were for killing the apostles also; yet they hearkened willing to Gamaliel's advice; which at another time might have been dangerous to the adviser. So that it appears from the history, that the whole council had the same doubt that Gamaliel had, that possibly the hand of God might be in this thing. And could the Jews, if they had manifestly discovered the cheat of the resurrection a little time before, have entertained such a suspicion? The last period commences at the resurrection, and takes in the evidence upon which the credit of this fact stands. The council for Woolston, among other difficulties, started one, which, if well grounded, excludes all evidence out of this case. The resurrection being a thing out of the course of nature, he thinks the testimony of nature, held forth to us in her constant method of working, a stronger evidence against the possibility of a resurrection, than any human evidence can be for the reality of one. In answer to this, it is said, on the other side, First, That a resurrection is a thing to be judged of by mens senses; and this cannot be doubted. We all know when a man is dead; and should he come to life again, we might judge whether he was alive or no, by the very same means by which we judge those about us to be living men. Secondly, That the notion of a resurrection, contradicts no one principle of right reason, interferes with no law of nature: and that whoever admits that God gave man life at first, cannot possibly doubt of his power to restore it when lost. Thirdly, That appealing to the settled course of nature, is referring the matter in dispute, not to rules or maxims of reason and true philosophy, but to the prejudices and mistakes of men; which are various and infinite, and differ sometimes according to the climate men live in; because men form a notion of nature from what they see: and therefore in cold countries all men judge it to be according to the course of nature for water to freeze; in warm countries they judge it to be unnatural. Consequently, that it is not enough to prove anything to be contrary to the laws of nature, to say that it is usually, or constantly, to our observation, otherwise. And therefore, though men in the ordinary course die, and do not rise again, (which is certainly a prejudice against the belief of a resurrection); yet is it not an argument against the possibility of a resurrection? Another objection was against the reality of the body of Christ after it came from the grave. These objections are founded upon such passages as report his appearing or disappearing to the eyes of his disciples at pleasure; his coming in among them when the doors were shut; his forbidding some to touch him, his inviting others to do it; his having the very wounds whereof he died, fresh and open in his body, and the like. Hence the council concluded, that it was no real body, which was sometimes visible, sometimes invisible; sometimes capable of being touched, sometimes incapable. On the other side it was answered, That many of these objections are founded on a mistaken belief of the passages referred to; particularly of the passage in which Christ is thought to forbid Mary Magdalene to touch him; of another, in which he calls to Thomas to examine his wounds; and probably of a third, relating to Christ's conversation with his disciples on the road, without being known by them. As to other passages which relate his appearing and disappearing, and coming in when the doors were shut, it is said, that no conclusion can be drawn from them against the reality of Christ's body: that these things might happen many ways, and yet the body be real; which is the only point to which the present objection extends: that there might be in this, and probably was, something miraculous; but nothing more wonderful than what happened on another occasion in his lifetime, where the Gentleman who makes the objection allows him to have had a real body. I mention these things but briefly, just to bring the course of the argument to your remembrance. The next objection is taken from hence, That Christ did not appear publickly to the people, and particularly to the chief priests and rulers of the Jews. It is said, that his commission related to them in an especial manner; and that it appears strange, that the main proof of his mission, the resurrection, should not be laid before them; but that witnesses should be picked and culled to see this mighty wonder. This is the force of the objection. To which it is answered, First, That the particular commission to the Jews expired at the death of Christ; and therefore the Jews had, on this account, no claim for any particular evidence. And it is insisted, that Christ, before his death, declared, the Jews should not see him, till they were better disposed to receive him. Secondly, That as the whole world had a concern in the resurrection of Christ, it was necessary to prepare a proper evidence for the whole world; which was not to be done by any particular satisfaction given to the people of the Jews, or their rulers. Thirdly, That as to the chosen witnesses, it is a mistake to think that they were chosen as the only persons to see Christ after the resurrection; and that in truth many others did see him: but that the witnesses were chosen as proper persons to bear testimony to all people; an office to which many others who did see Christ, were not particularly commissioned. That making choice of proper and credible witnesses, was so far from being a ground of just suspicion, that it is in all cases the most proper way to exclude suspicion.. The next objection is pointed against the evidence of the angels, and the women. It is said, That history reports, that the women saw young men at the sepulchre; that they were advanced into angels, merely through the fear and superstition of the women: that, at the best, this is but a story of an apparition; a thing in times of ignorance much talked of, but in the days of knowledge never heard of. In answer to this, it is said, That the angels are not properly reckoned among the witnesses of the resurrection; they were not in the number of the chosen witnesses, or sent to bear testimony in the world: that they were indeed ministers of God appointed to attend the resurrection: that God has such ministers, cannot be reasonably doubted; nor can it be objected, that they were improperly employed, or below their dignity, in attending on the resurrection of Christ: that we believe them to be angels, not on the report of the women, but upon the credit of the evangelist who affirms it: that what is said of apparitions on this occasion, may pass for wit and ridicule, but yields not reason or argument. The objection to the women was, I think, only that they were women; which was strengthened by calling them silly women. It was answered, That women have eyes and ears as well as men, and can tell what they see and hear. And it happened in this case, that the women were so far from being credulous, that they believed not the angels, and hardly believed their own report. However, that the women are none of the chosen witnesses; and if they were, the evidence of the men cannot be set aside, because women saw what they saw.. This is the substance of the objections and the answers. The council for the apostles insisted further, That they gave the greatest assurance to the world that possibly could be given, of their sincere dealing, by suffering all kinds of hardship, and at last death itself, in confirmation of the truth of their evidence. The council for Woolston, in reply to this, told you, That all religions, whether true or false, had had their martyrs; that no opinion, however absurd, can be named, but some have been content to die for it; and then concluded, that suffering is no evidence of the truth of the opinions for which men suffer. To clear this matter to you, I must observe how this case stands. You have heard often, in the course of this argument, that the apostles were witnesses chosen to bear testimony to the resurrection; and, for that reason, had the fullest evidence themselves of the truth of it; not merely by seeing Christ once or twice after his death, but by frequent conversations with him for forty days together, before his ascension. That this was their proper business, appears plainly from history; where we find, that to ordain an apostle, was the same thing as ordaining one to be a witness of the resurrection.[Acts 1:22] If you look further, to the preaching of the apostles, you will find this was the great article insisted on [Acts 2:22, 3:15, 4:10, 5:30]. And St. Paul knew the weight of this article, and the necessity of teaching it, when he said, If Christ be not risen, our faith is vain. You see, then, that the thing which the apostles testified, and the thing for which they suffered, was the truth of the resurrection; which is a mere matter of fact. Consider now how the objection stands. The council for Woolston tells you, that it is common for men to die for false opinions; and he tells you nothing but the truth. But even in those cases their suffering is an evidence of their sincerity; and it would be very hard to charge men who die for the doctrine they profess, with insincerity in the profession. Mistaken they may be; but every mistaken man is not a cheat. Now, if you will allow the suffering of the apostles to prove their sincerity, which you cannot well disallow; and consider that they died for the truth of a matter of fact which they had seen themselves, you will perceive how strong the evidence is in this case. In doctrines, and matters of opinion, men mistake perpetually; and it is no reason for me to take up with another man's opinion, because I am persuaded he is sincere in it. But when a man reports to me an uncommon fact, yet such an one as in its own nature is a plain object of sense; if I believe him not, it is not because I suspect his eyes, or his sense of feeling, but merely because I suspect his sincerity: for if I was to see the same thing myself, I should believe myself; and therefore my suspicion does not arise from the inability of human senses to judge in the case, but from a doubt of the sincerity of the reporter. In such cases, therefore, there wants nothing to be proved, but only the sincerity of the reporter: and since voluntary sufferings for the truth, is at least a proof of sincerity; the sufferings of the apostles for the truth of the resurrection, is a full and unexceptionable proof. The council for Woolston was sensible of this difference; and therefore he added, that there are many instances of men's suffering and dying in an obstinate denial of the truth of facts plainly proved. This observation is also true. I remember a story of a man who endured with great constancy all the tortures of the rack, denying the fact with which he was charged. When he was asked afterwards, how he could hold out against all the tortures? He answered, I had painted a gallows upon the toe of my shoe, and when the rack stretched me, I looked on the gallows, and bore the pain, to save my life. This man denied a plain fact, under great torture; but you see a reason for it. In other cases, when criminals persist in denying their crimes, they often do it, and there is a reason to suspect they do it always, in hopes of a pardon or reprieve. But what are these instances to the present purpose? All these men suffer against their will, and for their crimes; and their obstinacy is built on the hope of escaping, by moving the compassion of the government. Can the Gentleman give any instances of persons who died willingly in attestation of a false fact? We have had in England some weak enough to die for the Pope's supremacy; but do you think a man could be found to die in proof of the Pope's being actually on the throne of England? Now, the apostles died in asserting the truth of Christ's resurrection. It was always in their power to quit their evidence and save their lives. Even their bitterest enemies, the Jews, required no more of them than to be silent. [Acts 4:17, 5:28] Others have denied facts, or asserted facts, in hopes of saving their lives, when they were under sentence of death: but these men attested a fact at the expence of their lives, which they might have saved by denying the truth. So that between criminals dying, and denying plain facts, and the apostles dying for their testimony, there is this material difference: criminals deny the truth in hopes of saving their lives; the apostles willingly parted with their lives, rather than deny the truth. We are come now to the last, and indeed the most weighty consideration. The council for the apostles having in the course of the argument allowed, that more evidence is required to support the credit of the resurrection, it being a very extraordinary event, than is necessary in common cases, in the latter part of his defence sets forth the extraordinary evidence upon which this fact stands. That is, the evidence of the Spirit, the Spirit of wisdom and power, which was given to the apostles, to enable them to confirm their testimony by signs and wonders, and mighty works. This part of the argument was well argued by the Gentleman, and I need not repeat all he said. The council for Woolston, in his reply, made two objections to this evidence. The first was this: That the resurrection having all along been pleaded to be a matter of fact, and an object of sense, to recur to miracles for the proof of it, is to take it out of its proper evidence, the evidence of sense; and to rest it upon a proof which cannot be applied to it: for seeing one miracle, he says, is no evidence that another miracle was wrought before it; as healing a sick man, is no evidence that a dead man was raised to life. To clear this difficulty, you must consider by what train of reasoning miracles come to be proofs in any case. A miracle of itself proves nothing, unless this only, that there is a cause equal to the producing the effect we see. Suppose you should see a man raise one from the dead, and he should go away and say nothing to you, you would not find that any fact, or any proposition, was proved or disproved by this miracle. But should he declare to you, in the name of him, by whose power the miracle was wrought, that image-worship was unlawful, you would then be possessed of a proof against image-worship. But how? Not because the miracle proves anything as to the point itself, but because the man's declaration is authorised by him who wrought the miracle in confirmation of his doctrine; and therefore miracles are directly a proof of the authority of persons, and not of the truth of things. To apply this to the present case: If the apostles had wrought miracles, and said nothing of the resurrection, the miracles would have proved nothing about the resurrection one way or another. But when as eye-witnesses they attested the truth of the resurrection, and wrought miracles to confirm their authority; the miracles did not directly prove the resurrection; but they confirmed and established beyond all suspicion the proper evidence, the evidence of eye-witnesses. So that here is no change of the evidence from proper to improper; the fact still rests upon the evidence of sense, confirmed and strengthened by the authority of the Spirit. If a witness calls in his neighbors to attest his veracity, they prove nothing as to the fact in question, but only confirm the evidence of the witness. The case here is the same; though between the authorities brought in confirmation of the evidence, there is no comparison. The second objection was, That this evidence, however good it may be in its kind, is yet nothing to us. It was well, the Gentleman says, for those who had it; but what is that to us, who have it not? To adjust this difficulty, I must observe to you, that the evidence now under consideration, was not a private evidence of the Spirit, or any inward light, like to that which the Quakers in our time pretend to; but an evidence appearing in the manifest and visible works of the Spirit: and this evidence was capable of being transmitted, and actually has been transmitted to us upon unquestionable authority. And to allow the evidence to have been good in the first ages, and not in this, seems to be to be a contradiction to the rules of reasoning: for if we see enough to judge that the first ages had reason to believe, we must needs see at the same time, that it is reasonable for us also to believe. As the present question only relates to the nature of the evidence, it was not necessary to produce from history the instances to shew in how plentiful a manner this evidence was granted to the church. Whoever wants this satisfaction, may easily have it. Gentlemen of the jury, I have laid before you the substance of what has been said on both sides. You are now to consider of it, and to give your verdict. The jury consulted together, and the Foreman rose up. Foreman. My Lord, We are ready to give our verdict. Judge. Are you all agreed? Jury. Yes. Judge. Who shall speak for you? Jury. Our Foreman. Judge. What say you? Are the apostles guilty of giving false evidence in the case of the resurrection of Jesus, or not guilty? Foreman. Not guilty. Judge. Very well. And now, Gentlemen, I resign my commission and am your humble servant. The company rose up, and were beginning to pay their compliments to the judge and the council; but were interrupted by a Gentleman, who went up to the judge, and offered him a fee. What's this? Says the judge. A fee, Sir, said the Gentleman. A fee to a judge is a bribe, said the judge. True, Sir, said the Gentleman; but you have resigned your commission, and will not be the first judge who has come from the bench without any diminution of honour. Now, Lazarus's case is to come on next, and this fee is to retain you on his side. There followed a confused noise of all speaking together, to persuade the judge to take the fee: but as the trial had lasted longer than I expected, and I had lapsed the time of an appointment for business, I was forced to slip away; and whether the judge was prevailed on to undertake the cause of Lazarus, or no, I cannot say. FINIS 
57330	----	file was produced from images generously made available by The Internet Archive.) The Opening Heavens The Opening Heavens, Or A Connected View Of The Testimony of the Prophets and Apostles, Concerning The Opening Heavens, Compared With Astronomical Observations, And Of The Present And Future Location Of The New Jerusalem, The Paradise Of God. By Joseph Bates New Bedford: Press Of Benjamin Lindsey. 1846. PREFACE In presenting the following subject to the consideration of whom it may concern, I would here state that the two leading motives which have actuated and guided me through this absorbing subject has been--first, the truth of God to encourage and strengthen the true-believer. Second, to correct, or "rebuke" the spiritual views, (may I not say of almost all Christendom,) in respect to the appearing and kingdom of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ. Twenty-one years observation and experience, but more especially the last seven, in pursuit of this object, has taught me that truth is the only thing that can save the soul. But the great mass of the professed Christian world seem to pay no more regard to it than their great _Predecessor_, who said unto the Saviour "what is truth?" when he had just said to him that he "came into the world to bear witness unto the truth, and every one that is of the truth, heareth my voice." Jesus in his last prayer for his disciples asks the Father to sanctify them through the truth. "Thy word is truth." _St. John._ Again, he saith. "The Spirit is truth." The forerunner of Christ said, "The law was given by Moses, but grace and truth came by Jesus Christ." Jesus says, "I am not come to destroy the law or the prophets; but to fulfil, for verily I say unto you till heaven and earth pass, one jot or one tittle shall in no wise pass from the law until all be fulfilled." _Matthew._ Then of course man is required to believe "and live by every word that proceedeth out of the mouth of God." Third, thousands who have been looking for the personal appearing of the Lord Jesus from heaven in these last days, have in their disappointment about his coming, given up the only Scriptural view, and are now teaching that he has come in spirit and this is all we shall ever see of him here. One single passage from the Saviour's last words, when about to leave the world in the flesh, ought to have rectified any such mistake: "And lo, I am with you always, even unto the end of the world," meaning of course, his spirit. But I submit the subject. Fairhaven, May 8, 1846. Joseph Bates. [The copy right is secured with Him that sits upon the Throne in the coming Heavenly Sanctuary. The grant to use it is unlimited. Those only are punished that abuse the right.] THE OPENING HEAVENS. "_Verily, verily, I say unto you, hereafter ye shall see_ HEAVEN OPEN, _and the angels of God ascending and descending upon the son of man_."--John i: 51. Notwithstanding my incompetency to do justice to this momentous subject, I feel constrained to throw out my views in this public manner, for the benefit of all who feel an interest in the second coming of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ, to set up, and establish his "everlasting kingdom," upon this renovated earth. I believe, according to the testimony of the "two men seen in white apparel," that "this same Jesus which was taken up _into_ Heaven will in like manner come again," (Acts i: 11) from the same place, and stand in the same place he left. (See Zach. xiv: 4.) I believe he is in the third Heaven, in Paradise, with God, the Father; (see 2 Cor. xii: 2, 4; Rev. iii: 21; Heb. i: 3, 9 and 24) that he is now about to come with the Holy CITY, THE CAPITAL of his everlasting kingdom, and locate it in the "midst" of the promised land where he was crucified. According to this view then there is but one place in the heavens for this CITY to come from. A spiritual exposition of these glorious things, now about to be realized, beclouds the whole, and leaves no tangible ground for God's people to stand on. Whoever attempts this wilfully will run the risk of losing his soul, for Jesus says "if any man shall add or take away from the words of the book of this prophecy, God shall take away his part (from the tree of life--margin) and out of the Holy CITY." Rev. xxii: 19. Proof positive, that the Saints have a part in the City, and not in themselves. Let us now listen to his description of this glorious view he sees before him, while he sits, pen in hand, all ready to write down what transpires at the command of his guide. "I, John, saw the holy CITY NEW JERUSALEM coming down from God, _out of Heaven_, prepared as a bride adorned for her husband." In the 5th v. John saw him that "was dead and is alive forevermore," seated upon "his throne;" and he said unto me "write, for these words are true and faithful." "And there came unto me one of the seven angels, saying come up hither, I will show thee the bride, the Lamb's wife; and he carried me away in the spirit to a great and high mountain, and _shewed_ me that great CITY THE HOLY JERUSALEM, descending _out of Heaven_ from God, having the glory of God: and her light was like unto a stone most precious, even like a Jasper stone, clear as crystal. And I heard a great voice _out_ of Heaven saying, behold, the TABERNACLE of God is with men." What a beautiful description is here--please read the whole chapter. In the two first verses of the xxii. chapter, we learn that the walls of this CITY enclose "the tree of life," "which is in the midst of the _Paradise of God_." Moses testifies that "the Lord God planted a _garden_ eastward in _Eden_, and there he put the man whom he had formed. And the tree of life also in the midst of the _garden_, and a _river_ went out of _Eden_ to water the garden, and became into four heads." Gen. xi: 8, 10; iii: 3, 17, 22, 24. Compare this with Ezekiel's prophecy, xlvii: 3, 5, 12; also xlviii: 30, 35. There he speaks of waters first shallow and then deep; waters to swim in that could not be passed over, on the "banks of which shall be fruit every month, and the leaves for medicine." He also shows the four sides or "heads" to the river. The prophet Isaiah says "Look upon _Zion, the City_. _Jerusalem._ _Tabernacle_, a place of broad rivers and streams; where shall pass no galley with oars, neither shall gallant ship pass thereby,"--xxxiii: 20, 21. Surely this is the same which Moses and Ezekiel has described; and John says, "To him that overcometh will I give to eat of the tree of life, which is in the midst of the _Paradise_ of God. And whosoever will, let him take the water of life freely." Rev. xxii: 17, 2, 7. Then this "_Holy City_, _new Jerusalem_, _the Zion of God_, _the Tabernacle of God_, _the Bride the Lamb's Wife_, _the Mother of us all_," is a _City_, enclosed with a wall one hundred and forty-four cubits high, which embraces the "_garden of Eden, the Paradise of God_." And God calls it his "SANCTUARY." I suppose that it will be conceded by all, that the _Garden of Eden_ at the time of the fall, was a literal place, and was planted eastward. Yes, says one, and it is located in "Ethiopia or Assyria." How then is it, that the traveller and historian are entirely silent about it? Surely, it is a most remarkable place. Hear Moses's description of it:--"Therefore the Lord God sent him (Adam) forth from the garden of Eden to till the ground from whence he was taken. So he drove out the man: and placed at the _East_ of the garden of Eden, Cherubims and a flaming sword which turned every way, to guard the tree of life." Gen. iii: 23, 24. Now we have no account that these Cherubims and flaming sword has ever been seen within the orbit of this planet (which is allowed to be 162 millions of miles in diameter) since the fall of man, but has been far removed out of their sight. The prophet says, "Behold the time shall come that these tokens which I have told thee, shall come to pass, and the _Bride_ shall appear, and the coming forth shall be seen that _now is withdrawn from the earth_,"--xi. Esdras: 7, 26. This shows that Paradise is not located in this planet. But perhaps you do not believe that Esdras is a true prophet; well then, will you believe St. Paul? He says, "I knew a man in Christ above fourteen years ago (whether in the body I cannot tell, God knoweth) such an one caught up to the third Heaven--God knoweth how that he was caught up into Paradise and heard unspeakable words which it is not (possible: margin) for a man to utter." 2 Cor. xii: 4. St. John's testimony agrees with Paul, for he says he "saw the _Bride the Lamb's wife_, coming down from God, _out of Heaven_," without doubt, the same place where he had been. But says the objector, if John saw it coming down 1750 years ago, it ought to have been here by this time. Very true; but John "saw things which must shortly come to pass." Rev. 1. Let us just look at a few of the things he saw, and remember at the same time how he was directed to write them down, that every important point might be recorded. He saw the "abomination (Popery) that maketh desolate set up," four hundred and forty-five years in the future. Again, he saw the seven angels going forth with their trumpets to sound--he particularly describes the three last. See Rev. viii: 13; ix: 17, 19. Here he shows us what was to be the component parts of gunpowder, and in a very peculiar and clear manner describes the musket with the ball, (head) how they killed men 1350 years before muskets were used on horse-back--17th v. Further, how could he have described the second advent history so minutely as he has done in the xiv. chapter, if he had not have seen what was to be, and has been fulfilled; and how is it possible he could have given such a lamentable picture of "Mistery Babylon," if he had not have seen in _these last days_ of "perilous times," the professed children of God drinking from the old mother's cup of poison, while "she was drunk with the blood of the martyrs of Jesus." Rev. xvii. and xviii. Once more, how did David see that blood thirsty mob shoot out the lip, and laugh to scorn their Savior; and the four Roman soldiers under his cross dividing his garments and casting lots for his vesture, twelve hundred years before it took place. John xix: 23, 24. Why! just as St. John saw the _Holy City_ coming down at the second advent of Jesus--just as I believe, it will be seen, "Having the glory of God: and her light was like unto a stone most precious, even like a jasper stone, clear as crystal." Rev. xxi: 11. The most precious is the green, spotted with red and purple. We will now look at the ASTRONOMICAL VIEW. From what part of Heaven will this glorious _City_ appear? We answer, from where the flaming sword is "guarding the way of the tree of life," and the Cherubims are stationed. John i: 51. Furgerson, the celebrated astronomer of the last century, in describing some of the many wonders in the Heavens, says "that the two bright clouds in the heavens at the south pole, called by mariners the clouds of Magelen, are by astronomers called cloudy stars, but the most remarkable of all the cloudy stars is that in the middle of Orion's Sword, where seven stars (of which three are very close together) seem to shine through a cloud, very lucid in the middle, but faint and ill defined about the edges. It looks like a GAP in the sky, through which one may see (as it were) part of a much brighter region. Although most of the spaces are but a few minutes of a degree in breadth, yet, since they are among the fixed stars, they must be spaces larger than what is occupied by our Solar System--(the Solar System includes the Planet Uranus, which is one thousand and eight hundred millions of miles from the Sun, the circumference of her orbit in which she revolves around the Sun is calculated to be three hundred and fourteen millions of miles)--and in which there seems to be a perpetual uninterrupted day among numberless worlds, which no human art can ever discover."--_Furgerson's Treatise on Astronomy, edition A. D. 1770._ Out of ninety-three, Orion is the most striking and splendid constellation in the Heavens; her centre is mid way between the poles of heaven and directly over the equator of the Earth, and is visible from all the habitable parts of the Globe. On her south-eastern quarter is the beautiful star Sirius, (one of the most magnificent in the Heavens.) and on the north-west is stationed the Pleiades or seven Stars. "She rises at noon about the 9th of March" "and sets at noon about the 21st of June," and comes to the meridian January 23d, at 9 P. M. She is now to be seen for a little while, in the evening twilight, about one hour high, with the Planets Jupiter and Mars on her north and north-west. When the Lord answered Job out of the whirl wind, and demanded of him to answer to the wonderful questions which he was now about to put to him, he says "Canst thou bind the sweet influences of the Pleiades _or loose the bands of_ ORION." When Amos, the Prophet exhorted his Israel to repentance, he endeavored to impress their minds with the power of God by adverting to the wonderful phenomena in the Heavens, by saying, "Seek him that maketh the Seven Stars and Orion," &c. &c. HUGGENS, its first discoverer, gives the following description of it: "Astronomers place three stars close together in the Sword of Orion; and when I viewed the middle-most with a Telescope, in the year 1656, there appeared in the place of that one, twelve other stars; among these three that almost touch each other, and four more besides appeared twinkling as through a cloud, so that the space about them seemed much brighter than the rest of the heaven, which appearing wholly blackish, by reason of the fair weather, was seen as through a curtain opening, through which one had a free view into another region which was more enlightened. I have frequently observed the same appearance in the same place without any alteration; so that it is likely that this wonder, whatever it may be in itself, has been there from all times; but I never took notice of any thing like it among the rest of the fixed stars." Sir WILLIAM HERSCHEL says, "If stars of the eighth magnitude are to be considered at an average of eight times further distant than those of the first, then this nebula cannot be supposed to be less than 320,000,000,000,000, three hundred and twenty thousand billions of miles from the earth. If its diameter at this distance subtend an angle of ten minutes, which it nearly does, its magnitude must be utterly inconceivable. It has been calculated that it must exceed 2,000,000,000,000,000,000, or two trillions of times the dimensions of the Sun, vast and incomprehensible as these dimensions are."--_See Dick's Siderial Heavens, Vol. VIII. pp. 181, 184._ Says this author--"Suffice it to say that such an enormous mass of luminous matter was not created in vain, but serves a purpose in the divine arrangements corresponding to its magnitude and the nature of its luminosity, and to the wisdom and intelligence of him whose power brought it into existence. It doubtless subserves some important purpose, even at the present moment, to worlds and beings within the range of its influence. But the ultimate in all its bearings and relations, may perhaps remain to be evolved during the future ages of an interminable existence." Page 184. Again, says the ILLUSTRATED LONDON NEWS of April 19th, 1845: "Marvellous rumors are afloat respecting the Astronomical discoveries made by Lord Rosse's monster Telescope. (This is said to be sixty feet long and its great speculum or reflecting large glass measures six feet in diameter and weighs three and three-fourths tons, and is calculated to discover glorious objects in the Heavens, to man heretofore unknown.) It is stated that Regulus, instead of being a sphere, is ascertained to be a Disc; and stranger still, that the nebula in the belt of Orion (meaning the bright place before stated) is a universal system, a sun with planets moving round it, as the earth and her fellows move around our glorious luminary." Thus we see from all the testimony adduced, (and we could give much more were it necessary) that here is a most wonderful and inexplainable phenomena in the heavens: a gap in the sky, more than 11,314,000,000 miles in circumference. Says the celebrated HUGGENS, "I never saw anything like it among the rest of the fixed stars--a free view into another region more enlightened." I have had the pleasure (with others) during the past month, to see this wonder in the Heavens a number of evenings, through J. Delano, Jr's. excellent Telescope. It has been supposed by some, that this wonderful phenomena seen through the sword of Orion, has passed through some material change since it was first discovered by Huggens, one hundred and ninety years ago. On this point Sir John Herschel says: "When it is considered how difficult it is to represent such an object duly, and how entirely its appearance will differ even in the same Telescope, according to the clearness of the air, or other temporary causes, we shall readily admit that we have no _evidence of change_ that can be relied on." As I had before partially examined the Bible view of the _opening Heavens_, I think I never shall forget the thrill that pervaded my whole being, the first time that I saw this celestial wonder coursing its way down the western Heavens! Since then, when I have viewed it through the Telescope, my mind would instinctively revert to Moses's description of the _liberated_ children of Abraham, passing through the Red Sea, with that wonderful miracle "the pillar of fire, between them and the Egyptian Host." My thoughts still running onward, from type to antitype, "God looking through the cloud of fire in the morning watch;" at once vanquished the enemies of his chosen people. Exo. xiv: 24, 27. So in _this_ morning watch God will not only look through this mighty space, (black on one side with the stormy cloud,) but, as the Prophet Joel says, he will "_Roar out of Zion, and utter his voice from Jerusalem; and the Heavens and the Earth shall shake: but the Lord will be the hope of his people.--So shall ye know that I am the Lord your God dwelling in Zion my holy mountain: then shall Jerusalem be holy._" ("CLEANSED.") iii: 16, 17. A western view, with an inverting eye piece, gives it the appearance of a stormy dark cloud, with a full moon just shut in behind it, and three bright stars looking through the cloud. This dark looking cloud is called the gap in the sky. This constellation measures about one thousand miles from North to South, and five hundred from East to West, and is visible to all the inhabitants of the earth. Here then is a mighty Image (as represented on the map of the Heavens,) stretched across mid heaven, with his gold and silver epaulettes (four hundred and eighty miles apart) and two burning stars denoting his Northern and Southern extremities: the golden one on his upraised left foot, the other of silver on his right knee, answering to the one on his left shoulder; girded with his brilliant studded belt and flaming sword; "doubtless, to subserve some important purpose even at the present moment." Let it be distinctly understood, with what has already been stated by the Astronomers, that this "constellation is one of the most brilliant and noted in the Heavens," that its nebula, (according to the celebrated Sir WILLIAM HERSCHEL) far exceeds any other object, and its magnitude utterly inconceivable, two trillions times larger than the Sun; while the Sun is allowed to be thirteen hundred thousand times larger than our globe. That it "never yet has been resolved into stars by the highest power of the telescope," and there is no evidence of any change, even if it were discovered to be resolvable, (as is stated by a writer somewhat acquainted with Lord Rosse's monster telescope.) If so, it goes to strengthen the argument of its first discoverer, who says "through which one had a free view into another region which was more enlightened." If, then, there is nothing to be seen on Earth or in the Heavens except what Joshua and David saw, v: 13, 14; 1 Chro. xxi: 15, 16, that looks like this constellation, would it be thought strange for a Christian to believe that the Prophet Moses had recorded for our instruction the very answer to be given, viz. "to keep the way of the tree of life." I have now given a general description of this celestial wonder, but some may still doubt whether any thing can be ascertained with respect to objects so far removed. If the most accurate calculations had not already been made in respect to many of the heavenly bodies, how could the tempest tossed mariner, after being driven for days, and sometimes weeks, sailing on all points of the compass, and perhaps, not have known his position from the time he had taken his departure from his port, only by dead reckoning, nothing in sight but sea and sky, ascertain his true position? Just look,--there stands the captain, on some convenient part of the deck of his ship, holding in his hand a three cornered instrument, called a Sextant, measuring the distance between the sun and moon, or if it be in the night, between the moon and some lunar star, (which is millions on millions of miles removed from the Solar System,) noting the moment by his watch when he brings the outer or inner edges of these two celestial objects to touch; then measuring their distance from the horizon. With the help of a Nautical Almanac, (which had been published years before,) in the course of twenty minutes he so confidently ascertains his position, (however strange it may appear to landsmen,) that he would, after running ten or one hundred miles more or less, as the case may be, direct one of his crew to go to the mast head, and tell him at the same time in what direction to look for land. Presently the cry would come down, thrilling through every soul in the ship, "Land ho!" "Where away?" "Off the starboard bow, sir, where you told me to look." Such instances are not rare, but of daily occurrence. "How could that be?" says one, "it looks like a miracle!" So it would be, if the great God had not directed these celestial objects to move in perfect harmony. A place for every one, and every one in its place. One at a certain time said, "Canst thou by searching find out God? Canst thou find out the Almighty to perfection?" The wise man answers, "No man can find out the work that God maketh from the beginning to the end." Ecl. iii: 2; Job xi: 7. These texts alone teach us that we yet know but little of the power and wisdom of the Sovereign of the universe, whose spirit fills unlimited space; which space is undoubtedly coeval and coextensive with eternity; studded with millions on millions of worlds, each moving in its appropriate Sphere, like our own Planet. But a still greater wonder is the thousands and millions of blazing Comets, even in the Solar System, (Dick, vol. viii: p. 339,) seemingly sailing with a roving commission, sweeping their burning trails all over the perceptible universe of God, each moving in its proper Orbit! some of them shooting, at times, almost with the velocity of lightning! And yet, with what precision does the Astronomer calculate their appearing again after hundreds and thousands of years, without interfering with any of the celestial scenery. Just turn over to the second page of your Almanac and learn with what admirable accuracy the Astronomer has calculated, even to a moment of time, when the moon of yesterday will be passing under the sun, and cause the darkness to be seen and felt. Some minds may be troubled about the flaming sword being placed at the East of the Garden, or that we could see the Eastern side. This will be better understood by looking at the motion of our Planet. It is said by Astronomers that this Earth in its annual motion, is booming round the sun at the rate of nineteen miles per second; at the same time her diurnal motion from East to West is at the rate of ten miles per minute: consequently all the objects we see in the heavens, comes from the East, and among the rest this glorious constellation of _Orion_, all just as natural as it is for us to see the Sun rise in the East; and in the same direction the world will soon see what the Second Advent believer has long and anxiously been waiting for: viz. the "glorious appearing of the great God and our Saviour Jesus Christ." Titus ii: 13. Now let us take another view; not through Lord Rosse's, but God's great Telescope, which "declares the end from the beginning." Isa. 46: 10. BIBLE VIEW. The patriarch Jacob said to his sons that "God Almighty appeared unto him at Luz, which is Bethel." Gen. 48: 3; 25: 26. Here, while a Pilgrim traveller and stranger, he had laid himself down for the night, he "dreamed, and behold a ladder set up on the earth, and the top of it reached to Heaven; and behold, the angels of God ascending and descending on it." Gen. xxviii: 12. Seventeen hundred and ninety years after this, the Lord says to Nathaniel, "hereafter ye shall see HEAVEN OPEN, and the angels of God ascending and descending upon the son of man." This, then, is in the future. Next in order, Ezekiel has a vision, in the thirtieth "year of the Babylonish captivity by the river Chebar." He says, "the Heavens were OPENED, and I saw visions of God." He proceeds to describe his vision; please read Chap. i: 5, 10; 24, 28. He sees as the appearance of a man--describes also the stormy cloud with the brightness round about it; he also hears a _voice_ from the firmament, and says that the Lord God spake to him. Now see Chap. x: 4, 5; 19, 20. Here he says "the Cherubims stood at the door of the _East_ gate (where Moses says they were placed) of the Lord's House, and the glory of the God of Israel was over them above." "This is the living creature that I saw _under_ the God of Israel by the river Chebar, and _I knew that they were Cherubims_." Is it not plain that Ezekiel has shown the same place and station of the Cherubims which Moses has, on the East side, keeping the way of the tree of life. Jacob calls them angels, and cries out in terror, "How dreadful is this place, this is none other but the House of God and this is the _gate_ (or opening) of Heaven." 17 v. Isaiah in a vision sees "the throne high and lifted up, and hears the _voice_ of God," as did the others. Let us examine here a few moments to see what Cherubims are, and their use. One writer says, "they appear to be servants of God sent to do his will." Hear God concerning them, "and there will I meet with thee and I will commune with thee from between the two Cherubims which are upon the Ark of the testimony, of all things which I will give thee in commandment unto the children of Israel." Exo. xxv: 16, 22. PROOF--"And Hezekiah (in his distress) prayed before the Lord, and said O Lord God of Israel which dwelleth between the Cherubims," 2 Kings, xix: 15. "And God sent the prophets to tell him that his prayer was heard." v. 20. "The Lord reigneth let the people tremble; he setteth between the Cherubims, let the earth be moved." Psl. xcix: 1. Then here is where we are to look for the Paradise of God, the Holy City, and where we shall soon hear the voice of God, for he "sitteth above between the Cherubims," as is represented in the old Tabernacle and Temple. "For see, saith he, that thou make all things according to the pattern shewed to thee in the mount." Heb. viii: 5; ix: 5. St. John also describes them, and tells what their occupations were in heaven. Rev. v: 11, 12. Now we will proceed with the testimony concerning the opening heavens. John the Baptist bears record, that when he was coming up out of the water from baptising the Saviour, he "saw the heavens OPENED (or cloven or rent) and the spirit like a dove descending upon him, and there came a _voice_ from heaven," &c. Mark i: 10, 11; Luke iii: 20, 22; Matt. iii: 16, 17; John i: 32. Here is the opening heavens, and the voice of God as before. When Jesus was transfigured on the Mount the Disciples saw the cloud and heard the _voice_ of God. When the Savior ascended from Mount Olivet, his disciples saw him: the two shining ones said, "Ye men of Galilee why stand ye gazing up _into heaven_? (it must have been _open_ to their view, or they could not have looked _into_ heaven) this same Jesus which is taken up from you _into heaven_ shall come again in like manner as ye have seen him go _into heaven_." Acts i: 11. Then of course, it will be from the same place. Let us not be deceived about this, he has not come yet. Again, St. Luke says of Stephen, the martyr, (while he was surrounded by a blood-thirsty mob, gnashing on him with their teeth, because of the burning truths which he uttered,) "Being full of the Holy Ghost, looked up steadfastly _into heaven_, (at a certain point) and saw the glory of God, and Jesus standing on the right hand of God: and said, _behold, I see the heavens opened_, and the son of man standing on the right hand of God." Was Stephen mistaken? I think not--it was his dying testimony. But here is a more singular case still, two miracles on two individuals of different nations to establish and fulfil Daniel's prophecy of the seventieth week upon his people (the Jews). The time had now come and something out of the ordinary way was to mark this epoch of time. Now look yonder in Cesarea, there is a Gentile in a vision, he sees an angel which directs him to send into Judea for a certain Jew named Peter. Where is he? At a place called Joppa. (the sea port of Jerusalem,) lying in a trance, on the top of a house, and made to feel "very hungry," (that he might more readily and willingly follow the teachings of the voice and spirit of God to proclaim salvation to the Gentiles, for he was one of the _stubborn ones_, that held to the _present truth_; and perhaps could not be prevailed upon to yield in any other way.) Just so with his _stubborn_ brethren, who called him to an account for going in to the Gentiles, but after he had rehearsed the whole matter to them, "then they believed and glorified God, for granting repentance to the Gentiles." But what was the miracle? Peter says he "saw _heaven opened_ and a certain vessel descending unto him as it had been a great sheet knit at the four corners, and let down to the earth. This was done thrice (or three times) and the vessel was received up again _into Heaven_," and the voice of the Lord came to him twice, "saying what God has cleansed call not thou common." Acts x. and xi. ch. Here ends the confirming of the Covenant with many for one week. Danl. ix: 27, Heb. ii: 3. The Apostle Paul in relating his vision says that he was "caught up to the third Heavens _into Paradise_." 2 Cor. xii: 2, 4. St. John, the "beloved disciple," in his solitary confinement on the Isle of Patmos, not only has the same view of the _opening Heavens_, and hears the same voice, but was called up there in the spirit, and immediately he was there, describing the glories of Heaven. Please read his description of the glorious picture before and around the throne, (from whence the Prophets and Apostles already quoted, have looked through God's _all_ magnifying Telescope, and was burdened with the cry, "This is none other but the House of God and this is the _gate_ of Heaven!" "And lo, the Heavens were _opened_"!! "I see Heaven _open_"!!! At the same time and place God speaks with them). V: 6--here he sees the Lamb. Also vii: 15; viii: 3, 5, and xii: 5. Jesus the Son was caught up there, xx: 11, and xxi: 5. Same thing in the iv: 8 v. he has Isaiah's view of the Seraphims and uses nearly the same language in describing them, and says with Isaiah they rest neither day nor night, saying, Holy, Holy, Holy Lord God Almighty, which was, and is, and is to come, 8 v., and in the fifth chapter he says "And I beheld and heard the voices of many angels round about the throne, saying with a loud voice, worthy is the Lamb that was slain to receive power," &c. &c. Ezekiel's Cherubims and John's Angels are undoubtedly the same. John's _four_ beasts, Isaiah's Seraphims, and Ezekiel's _four_ wheels are typical of the _four_ grand divisions of the Camp of Israel, around the Tabernacle in the wilderness, all marshalled and arrayed by God's direction with their _four_ different standards, (answering to the _four_ faces or sides to Ezekiel's wheel, and the faces of John's four beasts). Juda with the Lion in the front on the East, (Num. ch. ii.) all ready to move at a moment's warning. Even where the "cloudy pillar by day or of fire by night;" which rested on the Tabernacle, should direct. The Levites, the ministers of God, all moving in perfect harmony, with the Ark containing the Commandments of God; close after which, in the midst of the camp, in solid columns follows the taken down tabernacle. All moving after and watching the direction of this "fiery pillar by night," and the moment it ceased to move the camp halted. The Tabernacle was raised, and the Commandments of God, (the keeping of which will secure an entrance into the Anti-type, the real Heavenly Tabernacle, that is to be "with men," Rev. xxi: 3; xxii: 14.) restored to their proper place _beneath_, and under the guardian care of the Cherubims between which his people were directed to pray unto him. Exo. xxv: 22. John also has described in the above mentioned texts, much of the furniture particularized in the old Tabernacle, which Paul says are "patterns of the true." Heb. ix: 23, 24. Conclusive evidence that he was in the "_true_ (or real) Tabernacle which God pitched, and not man." Heb. viii: 2. The same _City_, which Abraham "looked for, whose builder and maker is God." The Psalmist also agrees with Paul; and says, "The Lord has _prepared his throne_ in the Heavens." Paul says, that Jesus is there. See Heb. viii: 1, 2; and ix: 24. Jesus says, "he that overcometh will I grant to sit with me in my _throne_, even as I also overcame and am set down with my Father in _his throne_." Rev. iii: 21. Now, is it not evident that God has but one sanctuary, and that his throne is there; and one place for that sanctuary, and that place in the third heavens? Why then, should there be more than one way to approach it, or for it to come from, namely, by "the Cherubims and flaming sword, stationed there, to guard the way?" The editor of the Day Star asks, "why we stand gazing up into heaven; can you (meaning, I suppose, any one) tell where this same Jesus is coming from?" 2d. "Can you prove God the Father to be in one place, in any greater degree and power, than he is in any and every, and every other place?" If we have not already offered sufficient evidence, in answer to these two most important questions to the true believer in Christ, we will try a little further; for if we cannot understand, nor in any way comprehend, the teachings of the divine word, in respect to the second coming and kingdom of Jesus Christ, the location of the heavenly _Sanctuary_, the new Jerusalem, God's dwelling place, other than is figuratively discerned, then, I say, we that truly believe in God, "are of all men the most miserable;" and the sooner we hoist the _Shaker's_ flag, and bring too under the lee of their _camp_, the better; for I should despair of ever getting my anchor _down_ "within the vale." In the first place then, we say, Jesus has not yet come the second time, in the manner he promised us. For when speaking of his coming, he says emphatically, "Then shall THEY SEE _the Son of man coming in the clouds of Heaven_," &c. Now, according to this description, I'll venture the assertion, that there is not a particle of proof in the universe, that one solitary individual has seen him. Hence, I for one, am gazing up into heaven looking, and unwaveringly believing, that this, his precious promise, will soon be realized. But you say, he has come in his saints. Well, I say there is no more proof of this, than there was that he was in his apostle's, eighteen hundred years ago--for they certainly wrought many wonderful miracles, and preached with as much power; and the mighty weapons they used, was the death, resurrection and second coming of Christ. Now did the Apostle's ever teach such a doctrine, that Jesus had come _in them_ the second time? and further, I cannot believe that he will be seen any sooner in Ohio, than in New-England or New-York. Again, we answer to the first and second questions, combined--Rev. iv: 2. Here is a throne, with one seated upon it. Is there any proof to be found that this throne was on the Isle of Patmos, Rome, or any other city, or place in this globe? Will it not be conceded by all Bible students, that the Lord God Almighty, the Father, is seated upon it? Does not the Seraphims which are continually crying, Holy, Holy, Holy, in the eighth verse, say so? Who was found worthy to come and take the book out of the right hand of him that sat upon this throne? Did he take it out of his own hand? No, it does not read so. Who, then? John says, it "was the Lamb." Others said, it "was the Lion of the tribe of Juda." We say, "the Son of the Father." Here, then, where the door was _opened_ into heaven, John saw the Father and the Son together, _at one time and in one place_, transacting business; at the sight of which, ten thousand times ten thousand, and thousands and thousands of angels cried aloud, "worthy is the Lamb," &c.; and every creature under heaven acknowledged it! Verse 11, 13. I am aware that it will be said this is symbolical language. Allow me to quote an extract from a celebrated writer. "Even the symbolic parts of a vision have a mixed character. When real persons, the highest in their kind are mentioned by their proper titles, there is no room for symbols; the objects represent themselves, God and Christ and the good angels; Satan and evil spirits, and redeemed saints on earth or in heaven, are never emblems. Forsake this maxim, and symbolic prophecy becomes a chaos, in which nothing is fixed, and where fancy runs riot in its own excesses." But you say, God is a spirit. (There is no doubt but what his spirit pervades all space, and every thing in it that has life.) But to the testimony. "Ye have neither heard his voice nor seen his shape." John v: 37. Did Jesus contradict the Patriarchs and Prophets? No, no! He here told his persecutors what they had not seen nor heard; he did not say he had no voice or shape. Who did? 1st. Moses. "And I will cover thee with my _hand_ while I pass by; and I will take away mine _hand_ and thou shalt see my _back parts_, but my _face_ shall not be seen." Exod. xxxiii: 22, 23. 2d. The "_eyes_ of the Lord are upon the righteous, and his _ears_ are open unto their cry. The _face_ of the Lord are against them that do evil: the Lord _heareth_." Psalms xxxiv: 15, 17. Again, the "Ancient of days did _sit_, whose _garment_ was white as snow, and the _hair of his head_ like the pure wool." Does not this prove a shape, features, and voice, ascribed to God, the same as to man. "And God said let us make man in our own image, after our likeness; so God created man in his own image, in the _image of God_ created he him: male and female created he them." Gen. i: 26, 27. Paul says of Jesus, "Who is the _image of God_, (this can't be spiritually so) the first born of every creature; who being in the _form of God_, thought it not robbery to be equal with God." Eph. ii: 5, 6. Now to the Hebrews--"Hath in these last days spoken unto us by his son, who being the brightness of his glory, and the EXPRESS IMAGE of his person." Now turn to the history of Rome for a moment--read how LENTULUS describes the Savior to the Roman Senate. Here he describes his stature, countenance, his eyes, beautiful flowing hair, his wisdom, &c., and finally closes with the following: "A _man_ for his singular beauty far exceeding all the sons of men." Paul says, he is the "_express image_" _of God_. (I understand him to say that he looks just like him.) Oh, says one, this man is a Unitarian! So then was Paul, or I have not quoted him right. And Daniel, the prophet, teaches the same doctrine. "I saw in the night visions: and behold, one like the Son of man came with the clouds of heaven, and came to the Ancient of days, (described in the ninth verse) and they brought him near before him; and there was given him dominion and glory, and a kingdom, never to be destroyed." Dan. vii: 13, 14. Now we all admit this personage was Jesus Christ; for no being on earth or in heaven, has ever had the promise of an everlasting kingdom but him. And does not the Ancient of days give it to him? Would it not be absurd to say that he gave it to himself? How then can it be said (or proved) as it is by some, that the Son is the Ancient of days;--this passage, and the one in fifth Revelations, distinctly prove God and his Son to be two persons in heaven. Jesus says, "I proceeded forth and came from God; neither came I of myself, but he sent me." John viii: 42. "I come forth from the Father, and am come into the world; again, I leave the world and go to the Father." (Does he remain in the same place?) "We are confident I say, and willing rather to be absent from the body, and present with the Lord." Paul. "The Scripture testimony accounts for no other spirits but those seen in the shape of men." One of the three which came to Abraham was the Lord. Gen. xviii. The Angel Gabriel was called the "man Gabriel." Danl. ix. The angel which appeared to Gideon was called the Lord. I think here is sufficient proof from the Scriptures to justify the true believer to be still looking for a personal Saviour, and that God the Father is a person, and looks like Jesus and we like him; and God has a habitation where he dwells, as the Scriptures testify: "And I John saw the _Holy City new Jerusalem_ coming down from God out of Heaven." Another writer in the same paper undertakes to prove that this same City has began to appear; has been developing itself since the fall of 1844. Who has seen this City? O, he says, it is evident, that it is the saints. Is it possible that the Saints have been _coming down from Heaven_ this eighteen months! Why, there is not the least particle of proof that the righteous dead have yet been caught up? Thes. iv: 16, 17. I can readily believe that both of these brethren have been fearless advocates for the truth, and I do not doubt their sincerity. They have clearly proved that they are not seeking the applause of the world. I sincerely hope that they will not get so far into the fire on one side of the "highway" as some are in the "slough of despond" on the other. The main business of the Devil is now to make God's people change their course, and it is matter of no moment to him on which side of the "highway" they fall. In either case he will make sure of his prey. God help us to be on our watch. The great error here has arisen in consequence of taking the symbolical meaning and rejecting the true. The author of the Apocalyptic Dictionary, R. C. SHEMEALL, says, "_Holy City, Jerusalem._ Used symbolically of the present visible Church; Literally, that CITY which comes down from God." Let us examine a few texts: "Go and cry in the ears of Jerusalem." Jer. ii: 2. "And he carried away all Jerusalem." Kings xxiv: 14. "The cry of Jerusalem is gone up." Jer. xiv: 2. "Jerusalem has sinned they have seen her nakedness, yea she sigheth." Lam. i: 8. "Jerusalem is a menstrous woman." 17 v. "Awake, awake, stand up O Jerusalem." Isa. li: 17. "Arise and set down O Jerusalem." lii: 2. "O Jerusalem wash thine heart from wickedness." Jer. iv: 14. "Cut off thine hair O Jerusalem and cast it away." Jer. vi: 8. Here we see that old Jerusalem is personified. The prophets exhort her to "stand up" and "set down," and "awake from sleep," and "wash her heart," and "be instructed," to "cut off her hair and cast it away." She is also called a "menstrous woman," and said to "cry and sigh," and be "carried away." A "tumultuous city;" a "joyous city;" a "glad city." "Thou art comely, O my love, as Jerusalem." Songs vi: 4. "O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, thou that killest," &c. Now this language never could be understood, unless there was 1st: a Jerusalem, people and government; neither could we understand what is said of the new Jerusalem in many places, without associating organization, as the "Zion of God," "the Zion of the Holy One of Israel." Isa. lx: 14. "Like the kingdom of God among the Pharisees." Luke xvii: 21. This old Jerusalem at his second coming would be the place for the capital of his kingdom; his disciples the subjects; he their king. As also in Daniel viii: 13--connecting the "Host (God's people) and sanctuary." Paul to the Galatians says, "Agar is Mount Sinai in Arabia, and answereth to Jerusalem, which now is, and is in bondage with _her children_. But Jerusalem which is above is free, which is the _mother_ of us all." Can this testimony be credited? Did not "Abraham look for a city which had foundations?" Paul also says of the pilgrims and strangers on the earth, that they "were seeking an heavenly country for God _hath_ prepared for them a _City_"! Heb. xi. in the past tense; then it cannot be developing now in his Saints, but they are preparing to enter the CITY. When John was describing the _City_ in xxi. Rev. he said he saw no temple there "for the Lord God Almighty and the Lamb are the Temple of it." Now Peter and Paul distinctly describe the Saints (not the city) coming to this Mount Zion, and Temple, which makes it perfect and complete. Peter says of his "spiritual house," "Ye also as lively stones, [be ye built--_margin_.] up a spiritual house." 1 Pet. ii: 5. To whom coming as unto a living stone. 4 v. For, says sixth verse, behold I lay in Zion a chief corner stone. (Jesus.) Peter says of this Temple, _be ye built_. Paul says it is _growing_. Read how admirably he describes it to the Ephesians. "Fellow citizens with the Saints, and of the household of God. And are built upon the _foundation_ of the Apostles and _Prophets_," (see John's twelve gates representing the twelve tribes in Rev. xxi: 12; and the twelve Apostles of the Lamb representing the twelve foundations of the wall, 14th verse, which encloses the whole,) Jesus Christ himself being the chief corner stone, _In whom all the building fitly framed_ GROWETH INTO _an holy Temple in the Lord_; In whom ye also are builded _together_ for an habitation of God. Eph. ii: 19, 22. His Epistle to the Hebrews shows how they are brought together and where. "But ye are come unto Mount Zion, and unto the City of the living God, the heavenly Jerusalem, and to an innumerable company of angels; To the general assembly and church of the first born, which are (enrolled--_margin_) in heaven; And to God the Judge of all, and to the spirits of just men made perfect, and to Jesus the Mediator of the new Covenant." Now has not Paul distinctly described _what_ the Saints _shall come to_. O but, say you, we have already come. No, no, friend, you are too fast. Paul will explain: "_Mount Zion_ the _City the Heavenly Jerusalem_ to the innumerable company of Angels (or Cherubims) to the Church of the first born and to God, and to Jesus." xii: 22, 24. Now where? See 25, 28, when he speaketh from heaven. His voice once shook the earth, but now he is about to speak and shake heaven also, wherefore we receiving a kingdom which cannot be moved, (this is after every thing else is moved,) therefore wait until God shall speak in the language of Joel, and "Roar out of Zion and utter his voice from Jerusalem." Paul shows the Corinthians how it is finished. Hear him: "What agreement hath the temple of God with idols? for _ye_ are the _Temple_ of the living God, as God hath said I will dwell in them, and walk in them, and I will be their God and they shall be my people." Then God and Christ and immortal Saints, constitute the Temple in this glorious City of Zion. I have been thus particular in quoting the Scriptures, in answer to the questions proposed, to endeavor if possible to dispel some of the thick darkness and mist of Shakerism, Quakerism, Swedenborgianism, and all the Spiritualisms that now seem to be settling down all over the moral world, and shutting out even the very light from the horizon. To my mind this spiritualizing system, when God's word admits of a literal interpretation, and--according to rule--the literal first; is, to use a sailor phrase, like a ship groping her way into Boston Bay in the night, in a thick snow with the moon at full. Nothing could be more deceptive to the mariner; the flying clouds at one moment light up the firmament by the thinness of its vapor, (encouraging the mariner to believe that he shall now see the light house) the next moment it grows darker, and so it continues to deceive them, until of a sudden the breakers are roaring all around them--the ship is dashed upon the rocks--one general cry goes aloft for mercy! and all hope is forever gone--ship and mariners strewed all over the beach! Good God! help us to steer clear of these spiritual interpretations of Thy word, where it is made so clear that the second coming and kingdom of Christ will be as literal and real, as the events that transpired at the first Advent, now recorded in history. When the Saviour comes the second time, it will be with the City, (the Capital of his kingdom) seated upon his throne. Hear him: "When the son of man shall come in his glory, and all the holy angels with him, then shall he be _seated_ upon the throne of his _glory_." Matt. xxv. 31. "And the city had no need of the sun--for the glory of God did lighten it, and the lamb is the light thereof." "But the _throne_ of God and the Lamb shall _be in it_." Rev. xxi: 23, and xxii: 3. This _glory_ is none other than the golden City. When "one like the son of man came before the Ancient of days," in Daniel, he received "_Dominion_, and _Glory_, and a _Kingdom_." Glory, signifies worldly splendor, and magnificence. What, I ask, will be more splendid and glorious than this City of Gold poised fifteen hundred miles into the Heavens. The Psalmist cries out in view of it, in this sublime language, "Let thy Glory be above all the earth!" and so it will be; and as his dominion is from sea to sea, and from the rivers unto the ends of the earth, so I believe his _glory_ will be seen from the uttermost border. Other views of the glory of God and Christ do not destroy this. Saint John has connected in one, the "_Holy City_, _New Jerusalem_, _Tabernacle of God_, _Bride the Lambs Wife_, coming down from God, _out of Heaven_ to dwell with his _people_." PROOF--"And God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes; and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain." "And he that sit upon the throne said, behold I make all things new, and he said unto me write, for these words are true and faithful." Rev. xxi: 4, 5. Is it not clear that the _City_, and the _King_, and _Saints_, are here distinctly described. Why, then, all this shouting about a figurative fulfillment, while yourselves and the world are groping through the "_snow storm_." THE HEAVENLY JERUSALEM. The old Prophets looking down through the vista of time to the coming of this heavenly city, break forth in language like the following: "And it shall come to pass that he that is left in _Zion_ and he that remaineth in _Jerusalem_ shall be called holy, even every one that is written among the living in _Jerusalem_." "Then the Moon shall be confounded and the Sun ashamed when the Lord of hosts shall reign in Mount _Zion_ and in _Jerusalem_--(why? because John says they will 'have no need of the sun nor the moon,') and before his ancients gloriously." Who are they? Noah, Abraham and the Prophets. Again: "Look upon _Zion_ the _City_ of our solemnities; thine eye shall see _Jerusalem_ a quiet habitation, a _Tabernacle_ that shall not be taken down; not one of the stakes thereof shall ever be removed." "Break forth into joy, sing together ye waste places of _Jerusalem_ for the Lord hath comforted his people, he hath redeemed _Jerusalem_." "Give no rest till he establish and till he make _Jerusalem_ a praise in the earth." Do they mean old Jerusalem? The Saviour's prediction is against it, "left desolate," its inhabitants "carried away captive and trodden down by the Gentiles, until the times of the Gentiles be fulfilled." Luke xxi. Further: "But be ye glad and rejoice forever in that which I create, behold I create _Jerusalem_ a rejoicing and her people a joy, and I will rejoice in _Jerusalem_ and joy in my people, and the voice of weeping shall be no more heard in her, nor the voice of crying." Isa. iv: 3; xxiv: 23; xxxiii: 20; lii: 9; lxii: 7; lxv: 18, 19. Also read xl: 1; lii: 1; lx: 14, and xxxv: 10. "At that time they shall call _Jerusalem_ the _throne_ of the Lord, and all the nations shall be gathered into it--neither shall they walk any more after the imagination of their evil heart." "In those days shall Juda be saved and _Jerusalem_ shall dwell _safely_ and this is the name wherewith she shall be called, THE LORD OUR RIGHTEOUSNESS. For thus saith the Lord, David shall never want a man to set upon the throne of the house of Israel." Jer. iii: 17; xxxiii: 16, 17. "The Lord also shall roar out of _Zion_ and utter his voice from _Jerusalem_, then shall _Jerusalem be holy_, and there shall be no stranger pass through her any more." Joel iii: 16, 17. Here then, in every instance save one or two, the people of God are connected with the "_Zion_ of God," "_City_ of God," "_Jerusalem_ which is to be in the last days." The Psalmist says, "Glorious things are spoken of thee, O _City_ of God." lxxxvii: 3. John's record is, "Him that overcometh will I make a pillar in the Temple of my God, and he shall go no more out, and I will write upon him the name of my God and the name of the City of my God, (what union, and yet, how distinct!) which is new _Jerusalem_ which cometh down _out_ of heaven from my God, and I will write upon him my new name." How could the Saviour have been more explicit and plain. "Him that overcometh." Who? Why, the Saint; not the City, the _new Jerusalem_. Again: "Blessed are they that do his commandments that they may have right to the tree of life, and may enter in through the gates into the city." If the city is the Saints, what is this that enters into and have right to the tree of life? Can the _City_ go into the _City_? If so, then we acknowledge the _City_ is the Saints. But it reads, the Saints go in there. In Rev. xxi: 16, the City is said to be four square, twelve thousand furlongs; the length, and the breadth, and the height of it are equal. Then, according to arithmetical computation, it is fifteen hundred miles square. Now, if the City spiritually means the Saints of God, then, to carry out the figure, the Saints must stand over, or upon each other (according to the common stature) one million and four hundred thousand deep; or will it be asserted that they are fifteen hundred miles tall! SANCTUARY. Well, says one, are you going to call this _City_ the Sanctuary too? If you will allow the Bible testimony you will have to believe it is, or search more diligently for it in this planet than any one else ever has that I have heard of. But it has been proved by most able men, and learned men, that it is the Earth, or the Land of Canaan. Well, let us look at it again. But allow me first to recommend to your particular notice, O. R. L. Grosier's article in the Day Star Extra, for the 7th of February, 1846, from the 37th to the 44th page. Read it again. In my humble opinion it is superior to any thing of the kind extant. "_Sanctuary_ was the first name the Lord gave the Tabernacle, which name covers not only the Tabernacle with the two apartments, but also the court with all its hangings, and all the vessels of the ministry." Exo. xxv: 8, 9, and 38, 21; Num. i: 53. This, then, was a dwelling place, and a true pattern of the heavenly, embracing within its "jaspar" walls "the Paradise of God," with the "pure river of the water of life," and the "tree of life," and the "Golden City in the midst," all to come down from heaven and be located in old Jerusalem. Za. 14th chapter. That's too absurd to believe, says one. Is it any more so, than to believe the Apostle John's testimony? Does he not show us that the tree of life is inside of the gates, in xxii: 14. Read also the two first verses. Do not the waters issue out from the throne? and is not the tree of life on either side of it? and is not the promise--to him that overcometh I will give to eat of the tree of life which is in the midst of the Paradise of God? Well, continues the objector, I don't know but that I could have believed your Scripture testimony concerning the city, but I can't believe that God has such a place in the third heavens, and that it will descend to this earth with a river of water in, or on it. How can you believe then, what you are experiencing every day of your life, on the planet in which we live? While she is flying in her orbit around the Sun at the rate of fifty-eight thousand miles per hour, she is at the same time whirling over like a ball from East to West, at the rate of six hundred miles per hour, in her diurnal or daily motion, bottom upwards, as it would appear, every twenty-four hours, and yet, by an unseen power, (readily accounted for by Astronomers,) not only the rivers and the lakes, but the mighty ocean, remains unmoved. As we have before quoted, Moses says that a river went out of Eden to water the Garden, and became into four heads. Gen. ii: 10, 14. Now let us turn to Ezekiel's prophecy for a corresponding view, as "in the mouth of two or three witnesses, shall every word be established." In chapter 43, 1st and 7th verses, he testifies that this accords with the vision he had by the river Chebar twenty years before, (previously quoted.) Here he sees the Glory of God on the east side of the _Sanctuary_, (where Moses said the flaming sword and Cherubims were,) and his "voice like the noise of many waters saying to him that the house of Israel shall no more defile God's name." Afterwards, in 47th chapter, 1st and 5th verse: "He brought me again unto the door of the house, and behold waters issued out from under the threshold of the house eastward--(observe how particular to mention the "east side")--for the fore front of the house stood towards the east, and the waters came down from _under_, from the right side of the house." His guide then measured the waters one thousand cubits (more than one-fourth of a mile) "the waters were to the ankles," but when he had measured four thousand cubits, they had become waters to swim in, that could not be passed over. In 12th verse he describes the tree of life yielding its monthly fruit, for meat, and its unfading leaves for medicine. Why all this? "Because the waters issued out of the Sanctuary." Now read again in Rev. xxii: 1, 2; does not John tell the same story: the waters issuing from out the throne, the tree of life, the monthly fruit, the leaves for healing, the nations. Is not this after the city comes down? In 48th chapter, 8th verse: "And the sanctuary shall be in the midst of it." Once more the measuring rod is run over it, showing the four sides just like the old pattern in the wilderness, and then says the Sanctuary shall be in the midst thereof. From 30th to 35th verse, he describes the wall and the gates as John does in Rev. xxi: 13, and closes up his prophecy in these words, "And the name of the city from that day shall be, the Lord is there." Now let the old prophet Isaiah testify to what he saw: "Look upon _Zion_ the _City_ of our solemnities, thine eyes shall see Jerusalem a quiet habitation, a Tabernacle that shall not be taken down; not one of the stakes thereof shall ever be removed, neither shall any of the cords thereof be broken. But there the glorious Lord will be unto us a place of _broad rivers and streams_, wherein shall go no galley with oars, neither shall gallant ships pass thereby." xxxiii: 20, 21. The Psalmist says, "there _is_ a river; the streams whereof make glad the city of God, the holy place of the tabernacle of the Most High. God is in the midst of her"--46: 4, 5. Jeremiah says, "A glorious high throne from the beginning is the place of our _sanctuary_." xvii: 12. The Psalmist replies, "For he hath looked down from the height of his _sanctuary_; from heaven did the Lord behold the earth." cii: 19. (If he had said _sanctuary_ instead of earth, we should not have been easily moved from our former exposition.) "The Lord is in his holy temple, the Lord's throne is in heaven." xi: 4. Paul says to the Hebrews, "We have such an high priest, who is set on the right hand of the throne of the majesty, in the heavens; a minister of the _sanctuary_ and of the _true_ Tabernacle, which the Lord pitched, and not man." Heb. viii: 1, 2. "For the _invisible things_ of Him from the creation of the world are _clearly_ seen, being understood by the _things that are made_." Rom. i: 20. Paul tells the Hebrews how they may understand these _invisible_ things, which he says are _clearly seen_. See viii. c., 5 v. "Shadow of heavenly things." For see, (saith he) "that thou make all things according to the pattern shewed to thee in the mount." Now then, whenever we want to understand about the heavenly _sanctuary_, we must turn to Moses's description of the sanctuary in the wilderness, which he made after the pattern God gave him; which Paul says were shadows of heavenly things. How will a man dare (in the face of all this inspired testimony) to stand here on God's earth, and assert that the heavenly sanctuary with all that pertains to it is a FIGURE, and spiritualize it away. It would be ten thousand times easier for him to spiritualize the old Tabernacle and Solomon's Temple, seeing the one that is to come as far exceeds the temple of Solomon or Nehemiah, (although, it is allowed, that nothing on earth ever exceeded them) as the most splendid palace of the king does the sentry box of his guard. Much safer would it be for him to teach that the rocks had never been rent, or as he passed the streets in the afternoon and saw the shadow of the buildings, should insist upon it that the shadows were real, but the buildings, which cast the shadows, were spiritual. Such doctrine should be ranked with Mahometanism and Jesuitism, save their demoniac spirit; it comes from the "bottomless pit and will go into perdition: and they that dwell on the earth will wonder." Rev. xvii: 8. But I wish to present further evidence of the real (not spiritual) coming of this heavenly _sanctuary_. Ezekiel says in his 37th chapter, where God has promised his spirit and life to the whole house of Israel, "Moreover, I will make a covenant of peace with them; it shall be an _everlasting_ covenant with them, and I will place them and multiply them, and will set my sanctuary in the midst of them forevermore; my _tabernacle_ also shall be with them: aye, I will be their God, and they shall be my people. And the heathen shall know that I the Lord do sanctify Israel, when my _sanctuary_ shall be in the midst of them forevermore." 26-28 v. Now here is God's sacred promise that his sanctuary shall be in the midst of his _people_; and I have already quoted his 48th chap. 10 v. where he says when the angel had "measured the land twenty-five thousand reeds in length and ten thousand in breadth," said, "and the _sanctuary_ of the Lord shall be in the midst thereof." Now will it be insisted upon that the land, or his people, is the sanctuary; rather let us submit to the Scripture testimony. On the last night of our Saviour's ministry here on earth, in company with his disciples, when everything else had failed to arouse them, he to quicken their drooping spirits says, "Let not your hearts be troubled: ye believe in God, believe also in me. In my father's house are many mansions: if it were not so, I would have told you; and if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and receive you unto myself, that where I am, there ye may be also." John xiv: 1, 3. I think I have now proved by unquestionable authority, that this heavenly _sanctuary_ is the very place with _mansions_ which he has been preparing, and according to his promise is now coming to receive his saints. But may there not after all be a failure here. "Heaven and earth shall pass away, but my word shall not pass away." Having such testimony as this, we rejoice in "hope of the glory that is to be revealed." "Unto two thousand three hundred days then shall the sanctuary be cleansed." Dan. viii: 14. This, then, I understand, is the selfsame "_heavenly Sanctuary_, the _New Jerusalem_, the _Paradise of God_." Well, says the reader, this cannot be; how can Paradise, which Paul said was in the "third heavens," and where you say Jesus our High Priest is, be defiled? Where was the first sin that ever cursed this world committed? O, say you, that was six thousand years ago. Admit that it was, has God ever pardoned that sin? Turn to Gen. iii: 17, 19. The ground is still cursed, and man gets his living by the sweat of his brow. Why? Because the extent of this great sin could never be known, until God had put the last seal upon his saints, "and the dead be judged." But say you, the curse was upon the earth and its inhabitants. Yes; but was not Paradise polluted by this sin? But how can it be that anything in heaven is polluted, or unclean? Have I not proved by the astronomer's conclusive arguments, that this earthly ball which we inhabit is continually flying through the regions of unlimited space, in the same direction with all other planets, seen or known in the solar system? Think you that this little speck of earth is the only thing that is defiled, among the millions and myriads of worlds which stud the diadem of space? We are told that the "stars are not pure in his sight." "Yea, the heavens are not clean in his sight." Job xv: 15; xxv: 5. Was not the sanctuary on earth which the high priest cleansed the tenth day of the seventh month every year, a pattern of the true? Does not Paul tell us that Jesus our high priest has entered into the true _sanctuary_, into heaven itself. See Heb. ix: 12, 24; and viii: 1, 2. Then is not our high priest in the proper place to "cleanse the sanctuary?" I cannot for the life of me see, how the pattern or type can be made to appear in any other way. How then can the earth (as one in the voice of truth, and many other writers say) be the _sanctuary_; while spiritualizers are saying it is the saints. O Lord give us the truth! The strongest proof ever been adduced to prove that the earth or Canaan was the _sanctuary_, is found in Exodus xv: 17. Now what place is this which the Lord has made to dwell in? The answer is, "in the sanctuary O Lord, which thy hands have established." Paul says this sanctuary is in the heavens which the Lord pitched and not man. Heb. viii: 1, 2. The only other passage for proof of the land is Psalms lxxviii: 54, both of which go to strengthen the testimony before adduced. "And he brought them to the border of his sanctuary, even to this mountain which his right hand had purchased." Does he in either text say that the mountain is the sanctuary? If I can understand him, he says that the mountain is the _border_ of his sanctuary; just as Ezekiel has shown where his guide measured the land, and then said that the sanctuary of the Lord should be in the midst of it. Now the word _sanctuary_ is mentioned more than seventy times in the bible, and the whole of them,--with but a few exceptions, represent it a dwelling place, a building. The Psalmist says, that the "Lord looked down from his sanctuary from heaven to the earth." Not to his sanctuary. But let us see what Daniel and the angel Gabriel called a sanctuary. Dan. viii: 10-12. Is it not plain here that Popery took away the daily (i. e. destroyed Paganism) by arms or armies that stood on his (Popery's part, or side)--xi: 31. The taking away his sanctuary or polluting it is the same; for it would be absurd to say that the _land_ was taken away, (11 v.) or that by this transaction the land was _now_ polluted--xi: 31. Now read ix: 17, 19. Is not Daniel praying for the restoration of old Jerusalem, the city and _sanctuary_ (the temple where God's people worshipped) which had been desolated, _burnt up_, by the king of Babylon's army, about seventy years before? (see Jer. lii: 12, 14) and remained a burnt district until the commandment by Cyrus to Ezra, and afterwards to Nehemiah, to build the temple and city. Now in answer to this prayer, God immediately despatched the angel Gabriel from the court of heaven, to give Daniel "skill and understanding"--22d v. In the 26th verse he informs him that Messiah shall be cut off, (crucify the Saviour) and the people of the prince that shall come, shall destroy the city and the _sanctuary_. How was this accomplished? Josephus who was an eye witness and historian, informs us that Titus the son of Vespasian, the Emperor of Rome, about A. D. 70, (five hundred and sixty years after the temple and city had been rebuilt by Nehemiah) came with his mighty Roman army and took Jerusalem, and burned up the city and temple (the sanctuary) and it was soon after "ploughed as a field," (Micah iii: 12) "and not one stone left upon another." This, then, was the very circumstance, Prince, and people, alluded to by the angel Gabriel. I believe no one undertakes to dispute this point. Now we learn from this, that the angel Gabriel's instructions from heaven in answer to Daniel's prayer was, that it was the _Temple in the city of old Jerusalem_, which is the pattern or figure, or as Paul says "answereth to the new, which is above, which is the mother of us all." Can anything be more plain and explicit than that this is the sanctuary to be cleansed, "unto two thousand three hundred days." In the 11th verse he says, "the daily was taken away, (that is, Paganism) and the place of his _sanctuary_ cast down." How plain it is that this wicked sanctuary (where idols and devils were worshipped) was a building, cast down. How could they cast down the earth to the earth? (12th v.) and it (this same Popery) cast down the truth to the ground, so the ground was not destroyed; clear proof it was not the sanctuary. Well, but we don't believe that God will ever cleanse the wicked sanctuary of Paganism. The sanctuary must be cleansed, (made holy) so must the saints; for St. John says, "nothing unclean or unholy shall enter there." Then before the saints can enter the sanctuary it will be cleansed, not by fire, but by blood, (please follow the pattern.) Now will it still be said that the earth is the sanctuary? Can any proof be adduced that the earth is to be burned even, until after immortality is given to the saints? Just look at Zach. xiv. chapter; here he shows us that the wicked shall be punished after "_Jerusalem_ (the sanctuary) shall be safely inhabited," (11th and 12th verses and onward;) and before this, in the 8th to 11th verse, he has shown us that the land shall be turned into a plain; the 8th and 9th verses shows who does it, and how it is accomplished; and then of the sanctuary, Jerusalem, as though it was understood that this was done for the express purpose of making a foundation for the building. Here I think any one may see, that the border of this heavenly _sanctuary_ will extend to the "mountain of his inheritance," (Exo. xv: 17; Psl. lxxviii: 54) and this plain for the location and walls of the sanctuary will be made clean and pure. This is all the cleansing the earth will receive, until after "the great battle of God Almighty." So then, if the earth is the _sanctuary_, God's people need have no trouble here about its being cleansed, for they will have that work to do in immortality; but we believe that work is now being accomplished. Again, "how long shall the sanctuary and the host be trodden under foot." Jesus said that old "Jerusalem should be trodden down of the Gentiles until the times of the Gentiles should be fulfilled." But how ridiculous to believe that the heavenly sanctuary is "trodden under foot." Is it any more so than to believe what St. Paul tells us, concerning the High Priest of these "heavenly places" in the heavens. See Heb. x: 29. "Of how much sorer punishment suppose ye, shall he be thought worthy who hath _trodden under foot the Son of God_, and counted the blood of the covenant, wherewith he was sanctified, an unholy thing." So we can see according to Paul's exposition, if they have trodden the master under foot, how much more the building and the household, ("the sanctuary and host.") In the preceding verses it is explained; just read 10th, 11th and 12th verses; the papal power of Rome, the abomination which maketh desolate, casting down some of the host and stars to the ground and stamping upon them; also casting down the sanctuary and the truth to the ground, by satanic influence--this is treading down, connected with which is all other ungodly antichristian influences operating against it, which is to be purged out: even as the high priest here on earth cleansed the pattern once a year, which was never _literally_ trodden down by any one but himself while in the act of cleansing it. The angel did not answer the question concerning the host in the 13th verse, but Gabriel at his second visit showed Daniel that seventy weeks were determined upon his people, leaving 1810 years more to be explained at his third and last visit to him. See x: 14; "Now I am come (for what?) to make thee understand what shall befall thy people in the latter days." Please read on to the end of the twelfth chapter and see how faithfully he has described the host (the holy people) and one clothed in linen, (the Lord Jesus; see x: 21,) from above the waters of the river with his hands upraised to heaven, swearing by him that liveth forever that all these wonders, (including the resurrection in 2d verse) shall be finished when he, (meaning the antichristian powers which are led on and urged forward by the "prince of the power of the air,") shall have accomplished to scatter the power of the holy people, by the process of purifying, being made white, and tried, and if they pass through and withstand all this fiery ordeal and come to the 1335 days, they shall be blessed, and then be delivered out of such a time of trouble as never was since there was a nation. Thus, I think, the angel has described the treading down the host, and it appears to me that all this severe discipline is to prepare them to enter the holy city, for an angel crying with a mighty voice has shown them that they have been in company with devils, foul spirits, and every unclean and hateful bird; and another voice says, come out of her my people, for _all nations_ have drank of the wine of the wrath of her fornication. Rev. xviii: 2, 4. And the poison has operated to such an alarming extent that it has baffled the skill of all the Doctors of Divinity in the universe, and in spite of all their preaching, fasting and praying, with the assistance of the principals of the flock, the famine prophecied of by Amos the Prophet, has come upon them. How awfully be describes it: "Wandering from sea to sea, and from the north to the east, running to and fro to seek the word of the Lord and shall not find it." God never called his people out from any other place than the churches; if the whole truth, the meat in due season had been given and received there, and Babylon's poisonous cup rejected, then there would have been no severity in the discipline of its members. The handling of God's word deceitfully, (for it would not be admitted to say of learned men, ignorantly,) has led the professed world into this labyrinth; and men are now being ridiculed and laughed at, not only because they believe and are looking for the Lord himself to descend from heaven because they are now sending forth their epistles to (as they think) enlighten their brethren and friends concerning the coming of Christ in the "clouds of heaven," by subscribing themselves "yours, no longer gazing up into heaven;" "yours, in the clouds of heaven--meeting the Lord in the air;" while another one in the Shaker's camp in N. H., is shouting and rejoicing that he has found the Mount _Zion_, (meaning, of course, the holy city) and that the Germans from Europe are gathering to it; while another, from another quarter, (as I understand standing on the "broad platform") has attempted to prove that the powers of the heavens have been shaken, and the sign of the Son of man in heaven has been seen; and another one saying that "God is as much in one place as another!" while another is shouting Hallelujah, because he believes it to be so clear that the "saints are the _holy city_;" and yet another subscribes himself "yours, in the kingdom." O, says one, how alarming these things are! they look just like the "_perilous times_" St. Paul described to Timothy for the "last days." 2 Tim. iii: 4, 5. Jesus also, in Matt, xxiv: 24. I wish the good ministers would teach them sound doctrine; the great trouble would be to ascertain in what denomination to find them, for I have lying before me the creed of a professed Orthodox church o£ 1844, (_right opinion, true belief_) of this enlightened place, signed by its two ministers and one hundred and forty-seven members, (one of them a minister in New-Bedford with a similar flock) who say in their fifth article, "I believe that Christ came to establish the kingdom of heaven on earth, _which_ is the visible church." Now all the proof they offer from, the Scriptures is what follows: "And I say unto thee that thou art Peter, and upon this rock I will build my church; and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it." "And he shall reign over the house of Jacob forever; and, of his, kingdom there shall be no end." Matt. xvi: 18; Luke i: 33. Now if there is one particle of proof from these two passages, that Christ has established his kingdom here, and that kingdom is the church, then I confess I do not understand English. In the second article the only proof adduced for "and Almighty Saviour" is Hebrews xvii: 25. Their doors are wide open for members, but they must assent to this creed. Why continue to pray "THY KINGDOM COME?" I wish to be distinctly understood, that I do not mean anything invidious. I am only stating the truth in behalf of "God's word;" for I believe that all the nominal churches in this place, (and they all profess to be right) are holding the same or similar unscriptural errors that has led the world around them astray, not because they are more ignorant than in other places, for I believe for general intelligence they will compare with any place of its numbers on the habitable globe. The ministers too, with one exception, I believe, are all college bred. And this creed, be it remembered, is the most modern and modest of any in the place, for I believe it is the fashion now when the church is remoddled to remoddle the creed also, no matter how _orthodox_ it was before, there are various ways to understand the scriptures, but when once the creed is published, all the members, old and young, must assent to the truth of it as their standard, until some one, more skilled in this business, proposes an alteration. What a burlesque on the never changing truth of the great eternal! Why follow in the footsteps of Popery to trammel the mind? Why not as well require a rule to get money? Then if _we_ are destitute of the true light from the word of God in this enlightened place, where in the name of the Lord, in any other village or city, can it be found? God has said that "light is sown for the righteous," and "unto the upright there ariseth light in the darkness." Psalms. But I must pass on--I have dwelt much longer on this lamentable picture than I intended, and yet I have hardly begun. I wish here to ask a few questions on one of the greatest errors that the world ever embraced, first established by Pope Gregory, A. D. 603. I mean the changing of God's seventh day, Sabbath, (for it is sheer sophistry to call it the Jews Sabbath, as Jesus our divine Lord says "it was made for man,") to the first day of the week. Paul says, "there therefore remaineth a keeping of the Sabbath to the people of God." Isaiah shows us that in the New Heavens and Earth all flesh shall keep the "Sabbath." Does any bible reader believe that this will be on any other day than what God has ordained. Let us look at the patterns and shadows of the true. Heb. viii: 5; ix. and x: 1. Is not the true in the eternal state? Think you that God will ever change the true to answer the pattern of Popery, that has been foremost in desolating the world? Every candid mind says no! What should we do then? God will tell us. "Six days shalt thou labor and do all thy work, but the SEVENTH IS THE SABBATH of the Lord thy God; (perhaps the minister will tell you he meant the Jewish Sabbath--don't you believe him nor any one else; they can't prove it by the Bible) in it thou shalt not do any work;" "wherefore the Lord blessed the Sabbath day and hallowed it." Exod. xx. Why all this costly array in "building the Tabernacle and afterwards the Temple?" _Answer_, it was to put the Ark in. 2 Sam. 2-7. Hear David 1 Chron. xvii: 2, 12. What was the Ark? A small chest in which was a precious relic; the commandments of God; his testimony to man; (see Exod. xxv: 10, 12) how it is guarded night and day by Cherubims. What are these commandments to us? They that keep them shall "enter in through the gates into the city." Rev. xxii: 14. Will you say then that the fourth commandment is abolished? If so, please cite us to the chapter and verse. I say it cannot be found within the lids of the bible. Will you reply by saying that the first day is the Sabbath, or that it was ever kept by Jesus or his apostles as a day set apart for religious worship; if so, where is the text? I challenge the world to produce it! If it cannot be found, why violate still this sacred command of God and reject all the light that is thrown in your pathway? God will have some to keep his commandments, if it be but "one of a city and two of a family." Jer. Some endeavor to clear their conscience by saying there is no Sabbath to be kept. This, to me, looks like infidelity. I have stated that one writer had asserted that the powers of Heaven had been shaken and the sign of the Son of man been seen. His argument on the twenty-fourth of Matthew, I like much, until he begins to prove what none of us have yet seen or heard. If so, why continue to say that "men's hearts fail them for fear and for looking after the things that are coming on the earth." Jesus does not say that they will be looking for _him_, but then they shall see the Son of man coming in the clouds of heaven, when they have seen the preceding signs. What arguments are there yet to be presented that will so alarm the Laodicean church, and scoffer, to fulfil. Isa. lx: 14, and Rev. iii: 9. It appears to me that nothing short of the voice of God will do this. Then, I think, the wise will understand, and get their blessing, as in Dan. xii: 12; then will they return and discern between the righteous and the wicked; then will they be found with the world, in the time of Daniel's trouble; they will then have passed through the "fiery trial" and the Sealing Angel have done his last work. This, as it looks to me will be the time when God will roar out of Zion and utter his voice from Jerusalem--and the heavens and the earth will shake; then shall Jerusalem be holy. Joel iii: 16, 17. It will then be cleansed from every impurity. This, I think, will be the shaking of the powers of heaven, for then will God's people _know_ that he dwells in Zion, (17th verse) not in the Shaker's camp, but in his Heavenly Sanctuary, and _then_ shall appear the "Sign of the Son of Man in Heaven," the "Holy Jerusalem descending out of Heaven from God, having the glory of God; And her light was like unto a stone most precious, even like a jaspar stone clear as chrystal." I have not the least particle of doubt but that it will be seen just as he has described it. The glory and effulgence of that sight will so light up the heavens in its majestic course down from the parted skies, that we shall have no further need of the telescope; but in the language of our adorable coming Lord, exclaim "I see heaven _open_ and the Angels of God ascending and descending upon the Son of Man"! This, I think, will be the Sign of the Son of Man in Heaven. A telescopic view of the burning bright star Sirius, on the southeast of the belt of Orion, in the southwestern heavens, early in the evening, will give a faint view of the above description. St. John saw this City suspended in the air, he therefore had a clear view of its twelve foundations and the names of the twelve Apostles of the Lamb, and the twelve gates, and the names written thereon, which are the names of the twelve tribes of the children of Israel. "And he measured the wall a hundred and forty and four cubits," two hundred and sixty-two and a half feet, and they were studded with all kinds of precious stones, and diamonds from the bowels of the earth, while the gates are adorned with the treasures of the ocean. Now this beautiful description of the City is given in the twenty-first chapter, from 16 to 18 and 21st verses. We must keep it distinct from the walls. He says, it lieth four square, and measures twelve thousand furlongs. This sum, divided by eight furlongs, which make a mile, would stand thus: 8/12000--fifteen hundred miles square or seven millions nine hundred and twenty thousand feet on six sides (it being a cubical form.) When we look at the size of this _City_ of Gold, we are at once almost overwhelmed with the view of its dimensions. Fifteen hundred miles high, long and wide! In the seventeenth verse, he gives but one way to measure the wall, and that is its height. If he had undertaken to have given the contents of the City by the same rule, he would have measured the wall. Then we have nothing more to do in making an arithmetical calculation, but follow the Apostle's description. Jesus said, in my Father's house are many mansions. Now, allowing twelve feet between joints for a story, this seven millions nine hundred and twenty thousand feet square would give six hundred and sixty thousand stories, twelve feet high, (Ezekiel xl: 7,) and fifteen hundred miles square, four hundred and forty stories to a mile: which would amount to 990,000,000, nine hundred and ninety millions of square miles on a level surface, twelve feet high--equal to the square miles contained in five worlds like this, (which is only one hundred and ninety-nine millions five hundred and twelve thousand square miles,) and seventy times more extensive than the Continent of America. Now six hundred and sixty thousand twelve foot rooms in each story, would make in all 435,600,000,000--four hundred and thirty-five thousand and six hundred millions of twelve feet square "rooms,"--_Ezekiel_; "places,"--_John_; or "mansions,"--_Jesus_. It is computed that there are 900,000,000--nine hundred millions of inhabitants now on the Earth. The Bible informs us that there was but one, six thousand years ago. Admit that there was nine hundred millions at the commencement of creation, and this number had passed away every thirty years for two hundred generations, their whole number would only amount to 180,000,000,000--one hundred and eighty thousand millions, a little more than one-third of the mansions in this building; four hundred and eighty-four to every human being now on the earth. Surely, this looks like an "abundant entrance" into the everlasting kingdom. O yes, say many, I see there is abundance of room for every body! The apostle tells us who they are. He says, "There shall in no wise enter into it anything that defileth, neither whatsoever worketh abomination or maketh a lie; but they which are written in the Lamb's book of life." This then is the capacious and glorious "golden _City_;" the "New Jerusalem;" the "heavenly Sanctuary;" the "Bride the Lamb's Wife;" the "Mother of us all;" the "Paradise of God;" the capital of our coming Lord's EVERLASTING kingdom, which is now about to descend from the "third heaven" by the way of the open door, down by the "flaming sword" of Orion. O let us see to it, that we are all ready to enter into this celestial City. Transcriber's Notes: Missing or obscured punctuation was corrected. Typographical errors were silently corrected. Spelling and hyphenation were made consistent when a predominant form was found in this book; otherwise it was not changed. Text in italics is enclosed by underscores (_italics_). 
60669	----	(This book was produced from images made available by the HathiTrust Digital Library.) Transcriber's Notes: Italic text is denoted by _underscores_ and bold text by =equal signs=. Small uppercase have been replaced with regular uppercase. Blank pages have been eliminated. Variations in spelling and hyphenation have been left as in the original. AROUND THE WICKET GATE; OR, A FRIENDLY TALK WITH SEEKERS CONCERNING FAITH IN THE LORD JESUS CHRIST. BY C. H. SPURGEON. "Enter ye in at the strait gate."--_Matt._ vii. 13. AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY, 10 EAST 23D STREET, NEW YORK. This book is published by special arrangement with the author and his publisher. COPYRIGHT, 1890, BY A. C. ARMSTRONG & SONS. TRANSFERRED TO THE AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY. PREFACE. Millions of men are in the outlying regions, far off from God and peace; for these we pray, and to these we give warning. But just now we have to do with a smaller company, who are not far from the kingdom, but have come right up to the wicket gate which stands at the head of the way of life. One would think that they would hasten to enter, for a free and open invitation is placed over the entrance, the porter waits to welcome them, and there is but this one way to eternal life. He that is most loaded seems the most likely to pass in and begin the heavenward journey; but what ails the other men? This is what I want to find out. Poor fellows! they have come a long way already to get where they are; and the King's highway, which they seek, is right before them: why do they not take to the Pilgrim Road at once? Alas! they have a great many reasons; and foolish as those reasons are, it needs a very wise man to answer them all. I cannot pretend to do so. Only the Lord himself can remove the folly which is bound up in their hearts, and lead them to take the great decisive step. Yet the Lord works by means; and I have prepared this little book in the earnest hope that he may work by it to the blessed end of leading seekers to an immediate, simple trust in the Lord Jesus. He who does not take the step of faith, and so enter upon the road to heaven, will perish. It will be an awful thing to die just outside the gate of life. Almost saved, but altogether lost! A man just outside Noah's ark would be drowned; a manslayer just outside the wall of the city of refuge would be slain; and the man who is within a yard of Christ, and yet has not trusted him, will be lost. Therefore am I in terrible earnest to get my hesitating friends over the threshold. _Come in! Come in!_ is my pressing entreaty. May the Holy Spirit render it effectual with many who shall glance at these pages! May he cause his own almighty voice to be heard creating faith at once! My reader, if God blesses this book to you, do the writer this favour--either lend your own copy to one who is lingering at the gate, or buy another and give it away; for his great desire is that this little volume should be of service to many thousands of souls. To God this book is commended; for without his grace nothing will come of all that is written. [Illustration] PREFACE TO THE AMERICAN EDITION. The host of American Christians who have had the privilege of listening to the prince of modern preachers of the gospel in his own London Tabernacle, and the countless thousands who have read his printed sermons, have long desired to see and hear him on this side of the ocean. The state of his health, however, which requires frequent respites from his incessant and exhausting labors, precludes the hope of an American tour, with its inevitable demands upon his already overburdened strength. All the more on this account they will welcome a new volume from his pen, designed for the benefit of a class found in every Christian community, the object of the deepest concern to the Church of Christ: a volume written by a master in Israel who has shown such a profound knowledge both of the human heart with all its needs, and of the wisdom and power of God in the gospel, and who has been to so many souls the blessed means of leading them to Christ. This new volume, like the author's many previous books and tracts, his well-organized Colporter Society, etc., testifies to his high appreciation of the power of the press, and to his desire thus to win for Christ myriads of those whom his voice cannot reach. To all who are hovering around the "Wicket Gate," or who even from time to time come within sight of it and wish they were safe within it, this little book is commended, with the hope that even while they are reading they will knock and it shall be opened to them. CONTENTS. PAGE AWAKENING 9 JESUS ONLY 16 FAITH IN THE PERSON OF THE LORD JESUS 24 FAITH VERY SIMPLE 35 FEARING TO BELIEVE 48 DIFFICULTY IN THE WAY OF BELIEVING 57 A HELPFUL SURVEY OF CHRIST'S WORK 65 A REAL HINDRANCE TO FAITH 73 ON RAISING QUESTIONS 80 WITHOUT FAITH NO SALVATION 88 TO THOSE WHO HAVE BELIEVED 93 [Illustration] [Illustration] Around the Wicket Gate. AWAKENING. Great numbers of persons have no concern about eternal things. They care more about their cats and dogs than about their souls. It is a great mercy to be made to think about ourselves, and how we stand towards God and the eternal world. This is full often a sign that salvation is coming to us. By nature we do not like the anxiety which spiritual concern causes us, and we try, like sluggards, to sleep again. This is great foolishness; for it is at our peril that we trifle when death is so near, and judgment is so sure. If the Lord has chosen us to eternal life, he will not let us return to our slumber. If we are sensible, we shall pray that our anxiety about our souls may never come to an end till we are really and truly saved. Let us say from our hearts:-- "He that suffered in my stead, Shall my Physician be; I will not be comforted, Till Jesus comfort me." It would be an awful thing to go dreaming down to hell, and there to lift up our eyes with a great gulf fixed between us and heaven. It will be equally terrible to be aroused to escape from the wrath to come, and then to shake off the warning influence, and go back to our insensibility. I notice that those who overcome their convictions and continue in their sins are not so easily moved the next time: every awakening which is thrown away leaves the soul more drowsy than before, and less likely to be again stirred to holy feeling. Therefore our heart should be greatly troubled at the thought of getting rid of its trouble in any other than the right way. One who had the gout was cured of it by a quack medicine, which drove the disease within, and the patient died. To be cured of distress of mind by a false hope, would be a terrible business: the remedy would be worse than the disease. Better far that our tenderness of conscience should cause us long years of anguish, than that we should lose it, and perish in the hardness of our hearts. Yet awakening is not a thing to rest in, or to desire to have lengthened out month after month. If I start up in a fright, and find my house on fire, I do not sit down at the edge of the bed, and say to myself, "I hope I am truly awakened! Indeed, I am deeply grateful that I am not left to sleep on!" No, I want to escape from threatened death, and so I hasten to the door or to the window, that I may get out, and may not perish where I am. It would be a questionable boon to be aroused, and yet not to escape from the danger. Remember, awakening is not salvation. A man may know that he is lost, and yet he may never be saved. He may be made thoughtful, and yet he may die in his sins. If you find out that you are a bankrupt, the consideration of your debts will not pay them. A man may examine his wounds all the year around, and they will be none the nearer being healed because he feels their smart, and notes their number. It is one trick of the devil to tempt a man to be satisfied with a sense of sin; and another trick of the same deceiver to insinuate that the sinner may not be content to trust Christ, unless he can bring a certain measure of despair to add to the Saviour's finished work. Our awakenings are not to help the Saviour, but to help us to the Saviour. To imagine that my feeling of sin is to assist in the removal of the sin is absurd. It is as though I said that water could not cleanse my face unless I had looked longer in the glass, and had counted the smuts upon my forehead. A sense of need of salvation by grace is a very healthful sign; but one needs wisdom to use it aright, and not to make an idol of it. Some seem as if they had fallen in love with their doubts, and fears, and distresses. You cannot get them away from their terrors--they seem wedded to them. It is said that the worst trouble with horses when their stables are on fire, is that you cannot get them to come out of their stalls. If they would but follow your lead, they might escape the flames; but they seem to be paralyzed with fear. So the fear of the fire prevents their escaping the fire. Reader, will your very fear of the wrath to come prevent your escaping from it? We hope not. One who had been long in prison was not willing to come out. The door was open; but he pleaded even with tears to be allowed to stay where he had been so long. Fond of prison! Wedded to the iron bolts and the prison fare! Surely the prisoner must have been a little touched in the head! Are you willing to remain an awakened one, and nothing more? Are you not eager to be at once forgiven? If you would tarry in anguish and dread, surely you, too, must be a little out of your mind! If peace is to be had, _have it at once_! Why tarry in the darkness of the pit, wherein your feet sink in the miry clay? There is light to be had; light marvellous and heavenly; why lie in the gloom and die in anguish? You do not know how near salvation is to you. If you did, you would surely stretch out your hand and take it, for there it is; and _it is to be had for the taking_. Do not think that feelings of despair would fit you for mercy. When the pilgrim, on his way to the Wicket Gate, tumbled into the Slough of Despond, do you think that, when the foul mire of that slough stuck to his garments, it was a recommendation to him, to get him easier admission at the head of the way? It is not so. The pilgrim did not think so by any means; neither may you. It is not what _you_ feel that will save you, but what _Jesus_ felt. Even if there were some healing value in feelings, they would have to be good ones; and the feeling which makes us doubt the power of Christ to save, and prevents our finding salvation in him, is by no means a good one, but a cruel wrong to the love of Jesus. Our friend has come to see us, and has travelled through our crowded London by rail, or tram, or omnibus. On a sudden he turns pale. We ask him what is the matter, and he answers, "I have lost my pocket-book, and it contained all the money I have in the world." He goes over the amount to a penny, and describes the cheques, bills, notes, and coins. We tell him that it must be a great consolation to him to be so accurately acquainted with the extent of his loss. He does not seem to see the worth of our consolation. We assure him that he ought to be grateful that he has so clear a sense of his loss; for many persons might have lost their pocket-books and have been quite unable to compute their losses. Our friend is not, however, cheered in the least. "No," says he, "to know my loss does not help me to recover it. Tell me where I can find my property, and you have done me real service; but merely to know my loss is no comfort whatever." Even so, to believe that you have sinned, and that your soul is forfeited to the justice of God, is a very proper thing; but it will not save. Salvation is not by our knowing our own ruin, but by fully grasping the deliverance provided in Christ Jesus. A person who refuses to look to the Lord Jesus, but persists in dwelling upon his sin and ruin, reminds us of a boy who dropped a shilling down an open grating of a London sewer, and lingered there for hours, finding comfort in saying, "It rolled in just there! Just between those two iron bars I saw it go right down." Poor soul! Long might he remember the details of his loss before he would in this way get back a single penny into his pocket, wherewith to buy himself a piece of bread. You see the drift of the parable; profit by it. [Illustration] [Illustration] JESUS ONLY. We cannot, too often or too plainly tell the seeking soul that his only hope for salvation lies in the Lord Jesus Christ. It lies in him completely, only, and alone. To save both from the guilt and the power of sin, Jesus is all-sufficient. His name is called Jesus, because "he shall save his people from their sins." "The Son of man hath power on earth to forgive sins." He is exalted on high "to give repentance and remission of sins." It pleased God from of old to devise a method of salvation which should be all contained in his only-begotten Son. The Lord Jesus, for the working out of this salvation, became man, and being found in fashion as a man, became obedient to death, even the death of the cross. If another way of deliverance had been possible, the cup of bitterness would have passed from him. It stands to reason that the darling of heaven would not have died to save us if we could have been rescued at less expense. Infinite grace provided the great sacrifice; infinite love submitted to death for our sakes. How can we dream that there can be another way than the way which God has provided at such cost, and set forth in Holy Scripture so simply and so pressingly? Surely it is true that "Neither is there salvation in any other: for there is none other name under heaven given among men, whereby we must be saved." To suppose that the Lord Jesus has only half saved men, and that there is needed some work or feeling of their own to finish his work, is wicked. What is there of ours that could be added to his blood and righteousness? "All our righteousnesses are as filthy rags." Can these be patched on to the costly fabric of his divine righteousness? Rags and fine white linen! Our dross and his pure gold! It is an insult to the Saviour to dream of such a thing. We have sinned enough, without adding this to all our other offences. Even if we had any righteousness in which we could boast; if our fig leaves were broader than usual, and were not so utterly fading, it would be wisdom to put them away, and accept that righteousness which must be far more pleasing to God than anything of our own. The Lord must see more that is acceptable in his Son than in the best of us. _The best of us!_ The words seem satirical, though they were not so intended. What best is there about any of us? "There is none that doeth good; no, not one." I who write these lines, would most freely confess that I have not a thread of goodness of my own. I could not make up so much as a rag, or a piece of a rag. I am utterly destitute. But if I had the fairest suit of good works which even pride can imagine, I would tear it up that I might put on nothing but the garments of salvation, which are freely given by the Lord Jesus, out of the heavenly wardrobe of his own merits. It is most glorifying to our Lord Jesus Christ that we should hope for every good thing from him alone. This is to treat him as he deserves to be treated; for as he is God, and beside him there is none else, we are bound to look unto him and be saved. This is to treat him as he loves to be treated, for he bids all those who labour and are heavy laden to come to him, and he will give them rest. To imagine that he cannot save to the uttermost is to limit the Holy One of Israel, and put a slur upon his power; or else to slander the loving heart of the Friend of sinners, and cast a doubt upon his love. In either case; we should commit a cruel and wanton sin against the tenderest points of his honour, which are his ability and willingness to save all that come unto God by him. [Illustration] The child, in danger of the fire, just clings to the fireman, and trusts to him alone. She raises no question about the strength of his limbs to carry her, or the zeal of his heart to rescue her; but she clings. The heat is terrible, the smoke is blinding, but she clings; and her deliverer quickly bears her to safety. In the same childlike confidence cling to Jesus, who can and will bear you out of danger from the flames of sin. The nature of the Lord Jesus should inspire us with the fullest confidence. As he is God, he is almighty to save; as he is man, he is filled with all fulness to bless; as he is God and man in one Majestic Person, he meets man in his creatureship and God in his holiness. The ladder is long enough to reach from Jacob prostrate on the earth, to Jehovah reigning in heaven. To bring another ladder would be to suppose that he failed to bridge the distance; and this would be grievously to dishonour him. If even to add to his words is to draw a curse upon ourselves, what must it be to pretend to add to himself? Remember that he, himself, is the Way; and to suppose that we must, in some manner, add to the divine road, is to be arrogant enough to think of adding to him. Away with such a notion! Loathe it as you would blasphemy; for in essence it is the worst of blasphemy against the Lord of love. To come to Jesus with a price in our hand, would be insufferable pride, even if we had any price that we could bring. What does he need of us? What could we bring if he did need it? Would he sell the priceless blessings of his redemption? That which he wrought out in his heart's blood, would he barter it with us for our tears, and vows, or for ceremonial observances, and feelings, and works? He is not reduced to make a market of himself: he will give freely, as beseems his royal love; but he that offereth a price to him knows not with whom he is dealing, nor how grievously he vexes his free Spirit. Empty-handed sinners may have what they will. All that they can possibly need is in Jesus, and he gives it for the asking; but we must believe that he is all in all, and we must not dare to breathe a word about completing what he has finished, or fitting ourselves for what he gives to us as undeserving sinners. The reason why we may hope for forgiveness of sin, and life eternal, by faith in the Lord Jesus, is that God has so appointed. He has pledged himself in the gospel to save all who truly trust in the Lord Jesus, and he will never run back from his promise. He is so well pleased with his only-begotten Son, that he takes pleasure in all who lay hold upon him as their one and only hope. The great God himself has taken hold on him who has taken hold on his Son. He works salvation for all who look for that salvation to the once-slain Redeemer. For the honour of his Son, he will not suffer the man who trusts in him to be ashamed. "He that believeth on the Son hath everlasting life;" for the ever-living God has taken him unto himself, and has given to him to be a partaker of his life. If Jesus only be your trust, you need not fear but what you shall effectually be saved, both now and in the day of his appearing. When a man confides, there is a point of union between him and God, and that union guarantees blessing. Faith saves us because it makes us cling to Christ Jesus, and he is one with God, and thus brings us into connection with God. I am told that, years ago, above the Falls of Niagara, a boat was upset, and two men were being carried down by the current, when persons on the shore managed to float a rope out to them, which rope was seized by them both. One of them held fast to it, and was safely drawn to the bank; but the other, seeing a great log come floating by, unwisely let go the rope, and clung to the great piece of timber, for it was the bigger thing of the two, and apparently better to cling to. Alas! the timber, with the man on it, went right over the vast abyss, because there was no union between the wood and the shore. The size of the log was no benefit to him who grasped it; it needed a connection with the shore to produce safety. So, when a man trusts to his works, or to his prayers, or almsgivings, or to sacraments, or to anything of that sort, he will not be saved, because there is no junction between him and God through Christ Jesus; but faith, though it may seem to be like a slender cord, is in the hand of the great God on the shore side; infinite power pulls in the connecting line, and thus draws the man from destruction. Oh, the blessedness of faith, because it unites us to God by the Saviour, whom he has appointed, even Jesus Christ! O reader, is there not common-sense in this matter? Think it over, and may there soon be a band of union between you and God, through your faith in Christ Jesus! [Illustration] FAITH IN THE PERSON OF THE LORD JESUS. There is a wretched tendency among men to leave Christ himself out of the gospel. They might as well leave flour out of bread. Men hear the way of salvation explained, and consent to it as being Scriptural, and in every way such as suits their case; but they forget that a plan is of no service unless it is carried out; and that in the matter of salvation their own personal faith in the Lord Jesus is essential. A road to York will not take me there, I must travel along it for myself. All the sound doctrine that ever was believed will never save a man unless he puts his trust in the Lord Jesus for himself. Mr. Macdonald asked the inhabitants of the island of St. Kilda how a man must be saved. An old man replied, "We shall be saved if we repent, and forsake our sins, and turn to God." "Yes," said a middle-aged female, "and with a true heart too." "Ay," rejoined a third, "and with prayer"; and, added a fourth, "It must be the prayer of the heart." "And we must be diligent too," said a fifth, "in keeping the commandments." Thus, each having contributed his mite, feeling that a very decent creed had been made up, they all looked and listened for the preacher's approbation; but they had aroused his deepest pity: he had to begin at the beginning, and preach Christ to them. The carnal mind always maps out for itself a way in which self can work and become great; but the Lord's way is quite the reverse. The Lord Jesus puts it very compactly in Mark xvi. 16: "He that believeth and is baptized shall be saved." Believing and being baptized are no matters of merit to be gloried in; they are so simple that boasting is excluded, and free grace bears the palm. This way of salvation is chosen that it might be seen to be of grace alone. It may be that the reader is unsaved: what is the reason? Do you think the way of salvation, as laid down in the text we have quoted, to be dubious? Do you fear that you would not be saved if you followed it? How can that be, when God has pledged his own word for its certainty? How can that fail which God prescribes, and concerning which he gives a promise? Do you think it very easy? Why, then, do you not attend to it? Its ease leaves those without excuse who neglect it. If you would have done some great thing, be not so foolish as to neglect the little thing. To believe is to trust, or lean upon Christ Jesus; in other words, to give up self-reliance, and to rely upon the Lord Jesus. To be baptized is to submit to the ordinance which our Lord fulfilled at Jordan, to which the converted ones submitted at Pentecost, to which the jailer yielded obedience on the very night of his conversion. It is the outward confession which should always go with inward faith. The outward sign saves not; but it sets forth to us our death, burial, and resurrection with Jesus, and, like the Lord's Supper, it is not to be neglected. The great point is to believe in Jesus, and confess your faith. Do you believe in Jesus? Then, dear friend, dismiss your fears; you shall be saved. Are you still an unbeliever? Then remember, there is but one door, and if you will not enter by it, you must perish in your sins. The door is there; but unless you enter by it, what is the use of it to you? It is of necessity that you obey the command of the gospel. Nothing can save you if you do not hear the voice of Jesus, and do his bidding indeed and of a truth. Thinking and resolving will not answer the purpose; you must come to real business; for only as you actually believe will you truly live unto God. I heard of a friend who deeply desired to be the means of the conversion of a young man, and one said to him, "You may go to him, and talk to him, but you will get him no further; for he is exceedingly well acquainted with the plan of salvation." It was eminently so; and therefore, when our friend began to speak with the young man, he received for an answer, "I am much obliged to you, but I do not know that you can tell me much, for I have long known and admired the plan of salvation by the substitutionary sacrifice of Christ." Alas! he was resting in _the plan_, but he had not believed in _the Person_. The plan of salvation is most blessed, but it can avail us nothing unless we personally believe in the Lord Jesus Christ himself. What is the comfort of a plan of a house if you do not enter the house itself? The man in our cut, who is sitting out in the rain, is not deriving much comfort from the plans which are spread out before him. What is the good of a plan of clothing if you have not a rag to cover you? Have you never heard of the Arab chief at Cairo, who was very ill, and went to the missionary, and the missionary said he could give him a prescription? He did so; and a week after he found the Arab none the better. Did you take my prescription?" he asked. "Yes, I ate every morsel of the paper." He dreamed that he was going to be cured by devouring the physician's writing, which I may call the plan of the medicine. He should have had the prescription made up, and then it might have wrought him good, if he had taken the draught: it could do him no good to swallow the recipe. So is it with salvation: it is not the plan of salvation which can save, it is the carrying out of that plan by the Lord Jesus in his death on our behalf, and our acceptance of the same. Under the Jewish law, the offerer brought a bullock, and laid his hands upon it: it was no dream, or theory, or plan. In the victim for sacrifice he found something substantial, which he could handle and touch: even so do we lean upon the real and true work of Jesus, the most substantial thing under heaven. We come to the Lord Jesus by faith, and say, "God has provided an atonement here, and I accept it. I believe in the fact accomplished on the cross; I am confident that sin was put away by Christ, and I rest on him." If you would be saved, you must get beyond the acceptance of plans and doctrines to a resting in the divine person and finished work of the Lord Jesus Christ. Dear reader, will you have Christ now? [Illustration] Jesus invites all those who labour and are heavy laden to come to him, and he will give them rest. He does not promise this to their merely dreaming about him. They must come; and they must come TO HIM, and not merely to the Church, to baptism, or to the orthodox faith, or to anything short of his divine person. When the brazen serpent was lifted up in the wilderness, the people were not to look to Moses, nor to the Tabernacle, nor to the pillar of cloud, but to the brazen serpent itself. Looking was not enough unless they looked to the right object: and the right object was not enough unless they looked. It was not enough for them to know about the serpent of brass; they must each one look to it for himself. When a man is ill, he may have a good knowledge of medicine, and yet he may die if he does not actually take the healing draught. We must receive Jesus; for "to as many as received him, to them gave he power to become the sons of God." Lay the emphasis on two words: _We must receive_ HIM, and _we must_ RECEIVE _him_. We must open wide the door, and take Christ Jesus in; for "Christ in you" is "the hope of glory." Christ must be no myth, no dream, no phantom to us, but a real man, and truly God; and our reception of him must be no forced and feigned acceptance, but the hearty and happy assent and consent of the soul that he shall be the all in all of our salvation. Will we not at once come to him, and make him our sole trust? [Illustration] The dove is hunted by the hawk, and finds no security from its restless enemy. It has learned that there is shelter for it in the cleft of the rock, and it hastens there with gladsome wing. Once wholly sheltered within its refuge, it fears no bird of prey. But if it did not hide itself in the rock, it would be seized upon by its adversary. The rock would be of no use to the dove, if the dove did not enter its cleft. The whole body must be hidden in the rock. What if ten thousand other birds found a fortress there, yet that fact would not save the one dove which is now pursued by the hawk! It must put its whole self into the shelter, and bury itself within its refuge, or its life will be forfeited to the destroyer. What a picture of faith is this! It is entering into Jesus, hiding in his wounds. "Rock of Ages, cleft for me, Let me hide myself in thee." The dove is out of sight: the rock alone is seen. So does the guilty soul dart into the riven side of Jesus by faith, and is buried in him out of sight of avenging justice. But there must be this personal application to Jesus for shelter; and this it is that so many put off from day to day, till it is to be feared that they will "die in their sins." What an awful word is that! It is what our Lord said to the unbelieving Jews; and he says the same to us at this hour: "If ye believe not that I am he, ye shall die in your sins." It makes one's heart quiver to think that even one who shall read these lines may yet be of the miserable company who will thus perish. The Lord prevent it of his great grace! I saw, the other day, a remarkable picture, which I shall use as an illustration of the way of salvation by faith in Jesus. An offender had committed a crime for which he must die, but it was in the olden time, when churches were considered to be sanctuaries in which criminals might hide themselves, and so escape from death. See the transgressor! He rushes towards the church, the guards pursue him with their drawn swords, athirst for his blood! They follow him even to the church door. He rushes up the steps, and just as they are about to overtake him, and hew him in pieces on the threshold of the church, out comes the Bishop, and holding up the cross, he cries, "Back, back! Stain not the precincts of God's house with blood! Stand back!" The fierce soldiers at once respect the emblem, and retire, while the poor fugitive hides himself behind the robes of the Bishop. It is even so with Christ. The guilty sinner flies straight away to Jesus; and though Justice pursues him, Christ lifts up his wounded hands, and cries to Justice, "Stand back! I shelter this sinner; in the secret place of my tabernacle do I hide him; I will not suffer him to perish, for he puts his trust in me." Sinner, fly to Christ! But you answer, "I am too vile." The viler you are, the more will you honour him by believing that he is able to protect even you. "But I am so great a sinner." Then the more honour shall be given to him if you have faith to confide in him, great sinner though you are. If you have a little sickness, and you tell your physician--"Sir, I am quite confident in your skill to heal," there is no great compliment in your declaration. Anybody can cure a finger-ache, or a trifling sickness. But if you are sore sick with a complication of diseases which grievously torment you, and you say--"Sir, I seek no better physician; I will ask no other advice but yours; I trust myself joyfully with you;" what an honour have you conferred on him, that you can trust your life in his hands while it is in extreme and immediate danger! Do the like with Christ; put your soul into his care: do it deliberately, and without a doubt. Dare to quit all other hopes: venture all on Jesus; I say "venture" though there is nothing really venturesome in it, for he is abundantly able to save. Cast yourself simply on Jesus; let nothing but faith be in your soul towards Jesus; believe him, and trust in him, and you shall never be made ashamed of your confidence. "He that believeth on him shall not be confounded" (1 Peter ii. 6). [Illustration] FAITH VERY SIMPLE. To many, faith seems a hard thing. The truth is, _it is only hard because it is easy_. Naaman thought it hard that he should have to wash in Jordan; but if it had been some great thing, he would have done it right cheerfully. People think that salvation must be the result of some act or feeling, very mysterious, and very difficult; but God's thoughts are not our thoughts, neither are his ways our ways. In order that the feeblest and the most ignorant may be saved, he has made the way of salvation as easy as the A, B, C. There is nothing about it to puzzle anyone; only, as everybody expects to be puzzled by it, many are quite bewildered when they find it to be so exceedingly simple. The fact is, we do not believe that God means what he is saying; we act as if it could not be true. [Illustration] I have heard of a Sunday-school teacher who performed an experiment which I do not think I shall ever try with children, for it might turn out to be a very expensive one. Indeed, I feel sure that the result in my case would be very different from what I now describe. This teacher had been trying to illustrate what faith was, and, as he could not get it into the minds of his boys, he took his watch, and he said, "Now, I will give you this watch, John. Will you have it?" John fell thinking what the teacher could mean, and did not seize the treasure, but made no answer. The teacher said to the next boy, "Henry, here is the watch. Will you have it?" The boy, with a very proper modesty, replied, "No, thank you, sir." The teacher tried several of the boys with the same result; till at last a youngster, who was not so wise or so thoughtful as the others, but rather more believing, said in the most natural way, "Thank you, sir," and put the watch into his pocket. Then the other boys woke up to a startling fact: their companion had received a watch which they had refused. One of the boys quickly asked of the teacher, "Is he to keep it?" "Of course he is," said the teacher, "I offered it to him, and he accepted it. I would not give a thing and take a thing: that would be very foolish. I put the watch before you, and said that I gave it to you, but none of you would have it." "Oh!" said the boy, "if I had known you meant it, I would have had it." Of course he would. He thought it was a piece of acting, and nothing more. All the other boys were in a dreadful state of mind to think that they had lost the watch. Each one cried, "Teacher, I did not know you meant it, _but I thought_--" No one took the gift; but every one _thought_. Each one had his theory, except the simple-minded boy who believed what he was told, and got the watch. Now I wish that I could always be such a simple child as literally to believe what the Lord says, and take what he puts before me, resting quite content that he is not playing with me, and that I cannot be wrong in accepting what he sets before me in the gospel. Happy should we be if we would trust, and raise no questions of any sort. But, alas! we will get thinking and doubting. When the Lord uplifts his dear Son before a sinner, that sinner should take him without hesitation. If you take him, you have him; and none can take him from you. Out with your hand, man, and take him at once! When enquirers accept the Bible as literally true, and see that Jesus is really given to all who trust him, all the difficulty about understanding the way of salvation vanishes like the morning's frost at the rising of the sun. Two enquiring ones came to me in my vestry. They had been hearing the gospel from me for only a short season, but they had been deeply impressed by it. They expressed their regret that they were about to remove far away, but they added their gratitude that they had heard me at all. I was cheered by their kind thanks, but felt anxious that a more effectual work should be wrought in them, and therefore I asked them, "Have you in very deed believed in the Lord Jesus Christ? Are you saved?" One of them replied, "I have been trying hard to believe." This statement I have often heard, but I will never let it go by me unchallenged. "No," I said, "that will not do. Did you ever tell your father that you tried to believe him?" After I had dwelt a while upon the matter, they admitted that such language would have been an insult to their father. I then set the gospel very plainly before them in as simple language as I could, and I begged them to believe Jesus, who is more worthy of faith than the best of fathers. One of them replied, "I cannot realize it: I cannot realize that I am saved." Then I went on to say, "God bears testimony to his Son, that whosoever trusts in his Son is saved. Will you make him a liar now, or will you believe his word?" While I thus spoke, one of them started as if astonished, and she startled us all as she cried, "O sir, I see it all; I am saved! Oh, do bless Jesus for me; he has shown me the way, and he has saved me! I see it all." The esteemed sister who had brought these young friends to me knelt down with them while, with all our hearts, we blessed and magnified the Lord for a soul brought into light. One of the two sisters, however, could not see the gospel as the other had done, though I feel sure she will do so before long. Did it not seem strange that, both hearing the same words, one should come out into clear light, and the other should remain in the gloom? The change which comes over the heart when the understanding grasps the gospel is often reflected in the face, and shines there like the light of heaven. Such newly-enlightened souls often exclaim, "Why, sir, it is so plain; how is it I have not seen it before this? I understand all I have read in the Bible now, though I could not make it out before. It has all come in a minute, and now I see what I could never understand before." The fact is, the truth was always plain, but they were looking for signs and wonders, and therefore did not see what was nigh them. Old men often look for their spectacles when they are on their foreheads; and it is commonly observed that we fail to see that which is straight before us. Christ Jesus is before our faces, and we have only to look to him, and live; but we make all manner of bewilderment of it, and so manufacture a maze out of that which is plain as a pikestaff. The little incident about the two sisters reminds me of another. A much-esteemed friend came to me one Sabbath morning after service, to shake hands with me, "for," said she, "I was fifty years old on the same day as yourself. I am like you in that one thing, sir; but I am the very reverse of you in better things." I remarked, "Then you must be a very good woman; for in many things I wish I also could be the reverse of what I am." "No, no," she said, "I did not mean anything of that sort: I am not right at all." "What!" I cried, "are you not a believer in the Lord Jesus?" "Well," she said, with much emotion, "I, I will try to be." I laid hold of her hand, and said, "My dear soul, you are not going to tell me that you will try to believe my Lord Jesus! I cannot have such talk from you. It means blank unbelief. What has HE done that you should talk of him in that way? Would you tell _me_ that you would try to believe _me_? I know you would not treat me so rudely. You think me a true man, and so you believe me at once; and surely you cannot do less with my Lord Jesus." Then with tears she exclaimed, "Oh, sir, do pray for me!" To this I replied, "I do not feel that I can do anything of the kind. What can I ask the Lord Jesus to do for one who will not trust him? I see nothing to pray about. If you will believe him, you shall be saved; and if you will not believe him, I cannot ask him to invent a new way to gratify your unbelief." Then she said again, "I will try to believe"; but I told her solemnly I would have none of her trying; for the message from the Lord did not mention "trying," but said, "Believe in the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be saved." I pressed upon her the great truth, that "He that believeth on him hath everlasting life"; and its terrible reverse-- "He that believeth not is condemned already, because he hath not believed in the name of the only-begotten Son of God." I urged her to full faith in the once crucified but now ascended Lord, and the Holy Spirit there and then enabled her to trust. She most tenderly said, "Oh, sir, I have been looking to my feelings, and this has been my mistake! Now I trust my soul with Jesus, and I am saved." She found immediate peace through believing. There is no other way. [Illustration] God has been pleased to make the necessities of life very simple matters. We must eat; and even a blind man can find the way to his mouth. We must drink; and even the tiniest babe knows how to do this without instruction. We have a fountain in the grounds of the Stockwell Orphanage, and when it is running in the hot weather, the boys go to it naturally. We have no class for fountain-drill. Many poor boys have come to the Orphanage, but never one who was so ignorant that he did not know how to drink. Now faith is, in spiritual things, what eating and drinking are in temporal things. By the mouth of faith we take the blessings of grace into our spiritual nature, and they are ours. O you who would believe, but think you cannot, do you not see that, as one can drink without strength, and as one can eat without strength, and gets strength by eating, so we may receive Jesus without effort, and by accepting him we receive power for all such further effort as we may be called to put forth? Faith is so simple a matter that, whenever I try to explain it, I am very fearful lest I should becloud its simplicity. When Thomas Scott had printed his notes upon "The Pilgrim's Progress," he asked one of his parishioners whether she understood the book. "Oh yes, sir," said she, "I understand Mr. Bunyan well enough, and I am hoping that one day, by divine grace, I may understand your explanations." Should I not feel mortified if my reader should know what faith is, and then get confused by my explanation? I will, however, make one trial, and pray the Lord to make it clear. [Illustration] I am told that on a certain highland road there was a disputed right of way. The owner wished to preserve his supremacy, and at the same time he did not wish to inconvenience the public: hence an arrangement which occasioned the following incident. Seeing a sweet country girl standing at the gate, a tourist went up to her, and offered her a shilling to permit him to pass. "No, no," said the child, "I must not take anything from you; but you are to say, '_Please allow me to pass_,' and then you may come through and welcome." The permission was to be asked for; but it could be had for the asking. Just so, eternal life is free; and it can be had, yea, it shall be at once had, by trusting in the word of him who cannot lie. Trust Christ, and by that trust you grasp salvation and eternal life. Do not philosophize. Do not sit down, and bother your poor brain. Just believe Jesus as you would believe your father. Trust him as you trust your money with a banker, or your health with a doctor. Faith will not long seem a difficulty to you; nor ought it to be so, for it is simple. Faith is trusting, trusting wholly upon the person, work, merit, and power of the Son of God. Some think this trusting is a romantic business, but indeed it is the simplest thing that can possibly be. To some of us, truths which were once hard to believe are now matters of fact which we should find it hard to doubt. If one of our great grand-fathers were to rise from the dead, and come into the present state of things, what a deal of trusting he would have to do! He would say to-morrow morning, "Where are the flint and steel? I want a light;" and we should give him a little box with tiny pieces of wood in it, and tell him to strike one of them on the box. He would have to trust a good deal before he would believe that fire would thus be produced. We should next say to him, "Now that you have a light, turn that tap, and light the gas." He sees nothing. How can light come through an invisible vapour? And yet it does. "Come with us, grandfather. Sit in that chair. Look at that box in front of you. You shall have your likeness directly." "No, child," he would say, "it is ridiculous. The sun take my portrait? I cannot believe it." "Yes, and you shall ride fifty miles in an hour without horses." He will not believe it till we get him into the train. "My dear sir, you shall speak to your son in New York, and he shall answer you in a few minutes." Should we not astonish the old gentleman? Would he not want all his faith? Yet these things are believed by us without effort, because experience has made us familiar with them. Faith is greatly needed by you who are strangers to spiritual things; you seem lost while we are talking about them. But oh, how simple it is to us who have the new life, and have communion with spiritual realities! We have a Father to whom we speak, and he hears us, and a blessed Saviour who hears our heart's longings, and helps us in our struggles against sin. It is all plain to him that understandeth. May it now be plain to you! [Illustration] FEARING TO BELIEVE. It is an odd product of our unhealthy nature--_the fear to believe_. Yet have I met with it often: so often that I wish I may never see it again. It looks like humility, and tries to pass itself off as the very soul of modesty, and yet it is an infamously proud thing: in fact, it is presumption playing the hypocrite. If men were afraid to _dis_believe, there would be good sense in the fear; but to be afraid to trust their God is at best an absurdity, and in very deed it is a deceitful way of refusing to the Lord the honour that is due to his faithfulness and truth. How unprofitable is the diligence which busies itself in finding out reasons why faith in our case should not be saving! We have God's word for it, that _whosoever_ believeth in Jesus shall not perish, and we search for arguments why _we_ should perish if we did believe. If any one gave me an estate, I certainly should not commence raising questions as to the title. What can be the use of inventing reasons why I should not hold my own house, or possess any other piece of property which is enjoyed by me? If the Lord is satisfied to save me through the merits of his dear Son, assuredly I may be satisfied to be so saved. If I take God at his word, the responsibility of fulfilling his promise does not lie with me, but with God, who made the promise. But you fear that you may not be one of those for whom the promise is intended. Do not be alarmed by that idle suspicion. No soul ever came to Jesus wrongly. No one can come at all unless the Father draw him; and Jesus has said, "Him that cometh to me I will in no wise cast out." No soul ever lays hold on Christ in a way of robbery; he that hath him hath him of right divine; for the Lord's giving of himself _for_ us, and _to_ us, is so free, that every soul that takes him has a grace-given right to do so. If you lay hold on Jesus by the hem of his garment, without leave, and behind him, yet virtue will flow from him to you as surely as if he had called you out by name, and bidden you trust him. Dismiss all fear when you trust the Saviour. Take him and welcome. He that believeth in Jesus is one of God's elect. Did you suggest that it would be a horrible thing if you were to trust in Jesus and yet perish? It would be so. But as you must perish if you do not trust, the risk at the worst is not very great. "I can but perish if I go; I am resolved to try; For if I stay away, I know I must for ever die." Suppose you stand in the Slough of Despond for ever; what will be the good of that? Surely it would be better to die struggling along the King's highway towards the Celestial City, than sinking deeper and deeper in the mire and filth of dark distrustful thoughts! You have nothing to lose, for you have lost everything already; therefore make a dash for it, and dare to believe in the mercy of God to you, even to you. [Illustration] But one moans, "What if I come to Christ, and he refuses me?" My answer is, "Try him." Cast yourself on the Lord Jesus, and see if he refuses you. You will be the first against whom he has shut the door of hope. Friend, don't cross that bridge till you come to it! When Jesus casts you out, it will be time enough to despair; but that time will never come. "This man receiveth sinners": he has not so much as begun to cast them out. Have you never heard of the man who lost his way one night, and came to the edge of a precipice, as he thought, and in his own apprehension fell over the cliff? He clutched at an old tree, and there hung, clinging to his frail support with all his might. He felt persuaded that, should he quit his hold, he would be dashed in pieces on some awful rocks that waited for him down below. There he hung, with the sweat upon his brow, and anguish in every limb. He passed into a desperate state of fever and faintness, and at last his hands could hold up his body no longer. He relaxed his grasp! He dropped from his support! He fell--about a foot or so, and was received upon a soft mossy bank, whereon he lay, altogether unhurt, and perfectly safe till morning. Thus, in the darkness of their ignorance, many think that sure destruction awaits them, if they confess their sin, quit all hope in self, and resign themselves into the hands of God. They are afraid to quit the hope to which they ignorantly cling. It is an idle fear. Give up your hold upon everything but Christ, and drop. Drop from all trust in your works, or prayers, or feelings. Drop at once! Drop now! Soft and safe shall be the bank that receives you. Jesus Christ, in his love, in the efficacy of his precious blood, in his perfect righteousness, will give you immediate rest and peace. Cease from self-confidence. Fall into the arms of Jesus. This is the major part of faith--giving up every other hold, and simply falling upon Christ. There is no reason for fear: only ignorance causes your dread of that which will be your eternal safety. The death of carnal hope is the life of faith, and the life of faith is life everlasting. Let self die, that Christ may live in you. But the mischief is that, to the one act of faith in Jesus, we cannot bring men. They will adopt any expedient sooner than have done with self. They fight shy of believing, and fear faith as if it were a monster. O foolish tremblers, who has bewitched you? You fear that which would be the death of all your fear, and the beginning of your joy. Why will you perish through perversely preferring other ways to God's own appointed plan of salvation? Alas! there are many, many souls that say, "We are bidden to trust in Jesus, but instead of that we will attend the means of grace regularly." Attend public worship by all means, but not as a substitute for faith, or it will become a vain confidence. The command is, "Believe and live;" attend to that, whatever else you do. "Well, I shall take to reading good books; perhaps I shall get good that way." Read the good books by all means, but that is not the gospel: the gospel is, "Believe in the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be saved." Suppose a physician has a patient under his care, and he says to him, "You are to take a bath in the morning; it will be of very great service to your disease." But the man takes a cup of tea in the morning instead of the bath, and he says, "That will do as well, I have no doubt." What does his physician say when he enquires--"Did you follow my rule?" "No, I did not." "Then you do not expect, of course, that there will be any good result from my visits, since you take no notice of my directions." So we, practically, say to Jesus Christ, when we are under searching of soul, "Lord, thou badest me trust thee, but I would sooner do something else! Lord, I want to have horrible convictions; I want to be shaken over hell's mouth; I want to be alarmed and distressed!" Yes, you want anything but what Christ prescribes for you, which is that you should _simply trust him_. Whether you feel or do not feel, cast yourself on him, that _he_ may save you, and he alone. "But you do not mean to say that you speak against praying, and reading good books, and so on?" Not one single word do I speak against any of those things, any more than, if I were the physician I quoted, I should speak against the man's drinking a cup of tea. Let him drink his tea; but not if he drinks it instead of taking the bath which is prescribed for him. So let the man pray: the more the better. Let the man search the Scriptures; but, remember, that if these things are put in the place of simple faith in Christ, the soul will be ruined. Beware lest it be said of any of you by our Lord, "Ye search the Scriptures, for in them ye think ye have eternal life; but ye will not come unto me that ye might have life." [Illustration] Come by faith to Jesus, for without him you perish for ever. Did you ever notice how a fir-tree will get a hold among rocks which seem to afford it no soil? It sends a rootlet into any little crack which opens; it clutches even the bare rock as with a huge bird's claw; it holds fast, and binds itself to earth with a hundred anchorages. Our little drawing is very accurate. We have often seen trees thus firmly rooted upon detached masses of bare rock. Now, dear heart, let this be a picture of yourself. Grip the Rock of Ages. With the rootlet of little-faith hold to him. Let that tiny feeler grow; and, meanwhile, send out another to take a new grasp of the same Rock. Lay hold on Jesus, and keep hold on Jesus. Grow up into him. Twist the roots of your nature, the fibres of your heart, about him. He is as free to you as the rocks are to the fir-tree: be you as firmly lashed to him as the pine is to the mountain's side. [Illustration] DIFFICULTY IN THE WAY OF BELIEVING. It may be that the reader feels a difficulty in believing. Let him consider. We cannot believe by an immediate act. The state of mind which we describe as believing is a result, following upon certain former states of mind. We come to faith by degrees. There may be such a thing as faith at first sight; but usually we reach faith by stages: we become interested, we consider, we hear evidence, we are convinced, and so led to believe. If, then, I wish to believe, but for some reason or other find that I cannot attain to faith, what shall I do? Shall I stand like a cow staring at a new gate; or shall I, like an intelligent being, use the proper means? If I wish to believe anything, what shall I do? We will answer according to the rules of common-sense. If I were told that the Sultan of Zanzibar was a good man, and it happened to be a matter of interest to me, I do not suppose I should feel any difficulty in believing it. But if for some reason I had a doubt about it, and yet wished to believe the news, how should I act? Should I not hunt up all the information within my reach about his Majesty, and try, by study of the newspapers and other documents, to arrive at the truth? Better still, if he happened to be in this country, and would see me, and I could also converse with members of his court, and citizens of his country, I should be greatly helped to arrive at a decision by using these sources of information. Evidence weighed and knowledge obtained lead up to faith. It is true that faith in Jesus is the gift of God; but yet he usually bestows it in accordance with the laws of mind, and hence we are told that "faith cometh by hearing, and hearing by the word of God." If you want to believe in Jesus, hear about him, read about him, think about him, know about him, and so you will find faith springing up in your heart, like the wheat which comes up through the moisture and the heat operating upon the seed which has been sown. If I wished to have faith in a certain physician, I should ask for testimonials of his cures, I should wish to see the diplomas which certified to his professional knowledge, and I should also like to hear what he has to say upon certain complicated cases. In fact, I should take means to know, in order that I might believe. [Illustration] Be much in _hearing_ concerning Jesus. Souls by hundreds come to faith in Jesus under a ministry which sets him forth clearly and constantly. Few remain unbelieving under a preacher whose great subject is Christ crucified. Hear no minister of any other sort. There are such. I have heard of one who found in his pulpit Bible a paper bearing this text, "_Sir, we would see Jesus_." Go to the place of worship to see Jesus; and if you cannot even hear the mention of his name, take yourself off to another place where he is more thought of, and is therefore more likely to be present. Be much in _reading_ about the Lord Jesus. The books of Scripture are the lilies among which he feedeth. The Bible is the window through which we may look and see our Lord. Read over the story of his sufferings and death with devout attention, and before long the Lord will cause faith secretly to enter your soul. The Cross of Christ not only rewards faith, but begets faith. Many a believer can say-- "When I view thee, wounded, grieving, Breathless, on the cursed tree, Soon I feel my heart believing Thou hast suffered thus for me." If hearing and reading suffice not, then deliberately _set your mind to work to overhaul the matter_, and have it out. Either believe, or know the reason why you do not believe. See the matter through to the utmost of your ability, and pray God to help you to make a thorough investigation, and to come to an honest decision one way or the other. Consider who Jesus was, and whether the constitution of his person does not entitle him to confidence. Consider what he did, and whether this also must not be good ground for trust. Consider him as dying, rising from the dead, ascending, and ever living to intercede for transgressors; and see whether this does not entitle him to be relied on by you. Then cry to him, and see if he does not hear you. When Usher wished to know whether Rutherford was indeed as holy a man as he was said to be, he went to his house as a beggar, and gained a lodging, and heard the man of God pouring out his heart before the Lord in the night. If you would know Jesus, get as near to him as you can by studying his character, and appealing to his love. At one time I might have needed evidence to make me believe in the Lord Jesus; but now I know him so well, by proving him, that I should need a very great deal of evidence to make me doubt him. It is now more natural to me to trust than to disbelieve: this is the new nature triumphing; it was not so at the first. The novelty of faith is, in the beginning, a source of weakness; but act after act of trusting turns faith into a habit. Experience brings to faith strong confirmation. [Illustration] I am not perplexed with doubt, because the truth which I believe has wrought a miracle on me. By its means I have received and still retain a new life, to which I was once a stranger: and this is confirmation of the strongest sort. I am like the good man and his wife who had kept a lighthouse for years. A visitor, who came to see the lighthouse, looking out from the window over the waste of waters, asked the good woman, "Are you not afraid at night, when the storm is out, and the big waves dash right over the lantern? Do you not fear that the lighthouse, and all that is in it, will be carried away? I am sure I should be afraid to trust myself in a slender tower in the midst of the great billows." The woman remarked that the idea never occurred to her now. She had lived there so long that she felt as safe on the lone rock as ever she did when she lived on the mainland. As for her husband, when asked if he did not feel anxious when the wind blew a hurricane, he answered, "Yes, I feel anxious to keep the lamps well trimmed, and the light burning, lest any vessel should be wrecked." As to anxiety about the safety of the lighthouse, or his own personal security in it, he had outlived all that. Even so it is with the full-grown believer. He can humbly say, "I know whom I have believed, and am persuaded that he is able to keep that which I have committed unto him against that day." From henceforth let no man trouble me with doubts and questionings; I bear in my soul the proofs of the Spirit's truth and power, and I will have none of your artful reasonings. The gospel to me is truth: I am content to perish if it be not true. I risk my soul's eternal fate upon the truth of the gospel, and I know that there is no risk in it. My one concern is to keep the lights burning, that I may thereby benefit others. Only let the Lord give me oil enough to feed my lamp, so that I may cast a ray across the dark and treacherous sea of life, and I am well content. Now, troubled seeker, if it be so, that your minister, and many others in whom you confide, have found perfect peace and rest in the gospel, why should not you? Is the Spirit of the Lord straitened? Do not his words do good to them that walk uprightly? Will not you also try their saving virtue? Most true is the gospel, for God is its Author. Believe it. Most able is the Saviour, for he is the Son of God. Trust him. Most powerful is his precious blood. Look to it for pardon. Most loving is his gracious heart. Run to it at once. Thus would I urge the reader to seek faith; but if he be unwilling, what more can I do? I have brought the horse to the water, but I cannot make him drink. This, however, be it remembered--_unbelief is wilful when evidence is put in a man's way, and he refuses carefully to examine it_. He that does not desire to know, and accept the truth, has himself to thank if he dies with a lie in his right hand. It is true that "he that believeth and is baptized shall be saved": it is equally true that "he that believeth not shall be damned." [Illustration] A HELPFUL SURVEY. To help the seeker to a true faith in Jesus, I would remind him of the work of the Lord Jesus in the room and place and stead of sinners. "When we were yet without strength, in due time CHRIST DIED FOR THE UNGODLY" (Rom. v. 6). "Who his own self bare our sins in his own body on the tree" (1 Pet. ii. 24). "The Lord hath laid on him the iniquity of us all" (Is. liii. 6). "For Christ also hath once suffered for sins, the Just for the unjust, that he might bring us to God" (1 Pet. iii. 18). Upon one declaration of Scripture let the reader fix his eye. "WITH HIS STRIPES WE ARE HEALED" (Is. liii. 5). God here treats sin as a disease, and he sets before us the costly remedy which he has provided. I ask you very solemnly to accompany me in your meditations, for a few minutes, while I bring before you the stripes of the Lord Jesus. The Lord resolved to restore us, and therefore he sent his only-begotten Son, "very God of very God," that he might descend into this world to take upon himself our nature, in order to our redemption. He lived as a man among men; and, in due time, after thirty years or more of obedience, the time came when he should do us the greatest service of all, namely, stand in our stead, and bear "the chastisement of our peace." He went to Gethsemane, and there, at the first taste of our bitter cup, he sweat great drops of blood. He went to Pilate's hall, and Herod's judgment-seat, and there drank draughts of pain and scorn in our room and place. Last of all, they took him to the cross, and nailed him there to die--to die in our stead. The word "stripes" is used to set forth his sufferings, both of body and of soul. The whole of Christ was made a sacrifice for us: his whole manhood suffered. As to his body, it shared with his mind in a grief that never can be described. In the beginning of his passion, when he emphatically suffered instead of us, he was in an agony, and from his bodily frame a bloody sweat distilled so copiously as to fall to the ground. It is very rarely that a man sweats blood. There have been one or two instances of it, and they have been followed by almost immediate death; but our Saviour lived--lived after an agony which, to anyone else, would have proved fatal. Ere he could cleanse his face from this dreadful crimson, they hurried him to the high priest's hall. In the dead of night they bound him, and led him away. Anon they took him to Pilate and to Herod. These scourged him, and their soldiers spat in his face, and buffeted him, and put on his head a crown of thorns. Scourging is one of the most awful tortures that can be inflicted by malice. It was formerly the disgrace of the British army that the "cat" was used upon the soldier: a brutal infliction of torture. But to the Roman, cruelty was so natural that he made his common punishments worse than brutal. The Roman scourge is said to have been made of the sinews of oxen, twisted into knots, and into these knots were inserted slivers of bone, and huckle-bones of sheep; so that every time the scourge fell upon the bare back, "the plowers made deep furrows." Our Saviour was called upon to endure the fierce pain of the Roman scourge, and this not as the _finis_ of his punishment, but as a preface to crucifixion. To this his persecutors added buffeting, and plucking of the hair: they spared him no form of pain. In all his faintness, through bleeding and fasting, they made him carry his cross until another was forced, by the forethought of their cruelty, to bear it, lest their victim should die on the road. They stripped him, and threw him down, and nailed him to the wood. They pierced his hands and his feet. They lifted up the tree, with him upon it, and then dashed it down into its place in the ground, so that all his limbs were dislocated, according to the lament of the twenty-second psalm, "I am poured out like water, and all my bones are out of joint." He hung in the burning sun till the fever dissolved his strength, and he said, "My heart is like wax; it is melted in the midst of my bowels. My strength is dried up like a potsherd; and my tongue cleaveth to my jaws; and thou hast brought me into the dust of death." There he hung, a spectacle to God and men. The weight of his body was first sustained by his feet, till the nails tore through the tender nerves: and then the painful load began to drag upon his hands, and rend those sensitive parts of his frame. How small a wound in the hand has brought on lockjaw! How awful must have been the torment caused by that dragging iron tearing through the delicate parts of the hands and feet! Now were all manner of bodily pains centred in his tortured frame. All the while his enemies stood around, pointing at him in scorn, thrusting out their tongues in mockery, jesting at his prayers, and gloating over his sufferings. He cried, "I thirst," and then they gave him vinegar mingled with gall. After a while he said, "It is finished." He had endured the utmost of appointed grief, and had made full vindication to divine justice: then, and not till then, he gave up the ghost. Holy men of old have enlarged most lovingly upon the bodily sufferings of our Lord, and I have no hesitation in doing the same, trusting that trembling sinners may see salvation in these painful "stripes" of the Redeemer. To describe the outward sufferings of our Lord is not easy: I acknowledge that I have failed. But his soul-sufferings, which were the soul of his sufferings, who can even conceive, much less express, what they were? At the very first I told you that he sweat great drops of blood. That was his heart driving out its life-floods to the surface through the terrible depression of spirit which was upon him. He said, "My soul is exceeding sorrowful, even unto death." The betrayal by Judas, and the desertion of the twelve, grieved our Lord; but the weight of our sin was the real pressure on his heart. Our guilt was the olive-press which forced from him the moisture of his life. No language can ever tell his agony in prospect of his passion; how little then can we conceive the passion itself? When nailed to the cross, he endured what no martyr ever suffered; for martyrs, when they have died, have been so sustained of God that they have rejoiced amid their pain; but our Redeemer was forsaken of his Father, until he cried, "My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?" That was the bitterest cry of all, the utmost depth of his unfathomable grief. Yet was it needful that he should be deserted, because God must turn his back on sin, and consequently upon him who was made sin for us. The soul of the great Substitute suffered a horror of misery instead of that horror of hell into which sinners would have been plunged had he not taken their sin upon himself, and been made a curse for them. It is written, "Cursed is every one that hangeth on a tree;" but who knows what that curse means? The remedy for your sins and mine is found in the substitutionary sufferings of the Lord Jesus, and in these only. These "stripes" of the Lord Jesus Christ were on our behalf. Do you enquire, "Is there anything for us to do, to remove the guilt of sin?" I answer: There is nothing whatever for you to do. By the stripes of Jesus we are healed. All those stripes he has endured, and left not one of them for us to bear. "But must we not believe on him?" Ay, certainly. If I say of a certain ointment that it heals, I do not deny that you need a bandage with which to apply it to the wound. Faith is the linen which binds the plaster of Christ's reconciliation to the sore of our sin. The linen does not heal; that is the work of the ointment. So faith does not heal; that is the work of the atonement of Christ. "But we must repent," cries another. Assuredly we must, and shall, for repentance is the first sign of healing; but the stripes of Jesus heal us, and not our repentance. These stripes, when applied to the heart, work repentance in us: we hate sin because it made Jesus suffer. When you intelligently trust in Jesus as having suffered for you, then you discover the fact that God will never punish you for the same offence for which Jesus died. His justice will not permit him to see the debt paid, first, by the Surety, and then again by the debtor. Justice cannot twice demand a recompense: if my bleeding Surety has borne my guilt, then I cannot bear it. Accepting Christ Jesus as suffering for me, I have accepted a complete discharge from judicial liability. I have been condemned in Christ, and there is, therefore, now no condemnation to me any more. This is the ground-work of the security of the sinner who believes in Jesus: he lives because Jesus died in his room, and place, and stead; and he is acceptable before God because Jesus is accepted. The person for whom Jesus is an accepted Substitute must go free; none can touch him; he is clear. O my hearer, wilt thou have Jesus Christ to be thy Substitute? If so, thou art free. "He that believeth on him is not condemned." Thus "with his stripes we are healed." [Illustration] A REAL HINDRANCE. Although it is by no means a difficult thing in itself to believe him who cannot lie, and to trust in One whom we know to be able to save, yet something may intervene which may render even this a hard thing to my reader. That hindrance may be a secret, and yet it may be none the less real. A door may be closed, not by a great stone which all can see, but by an invisible bolt which shoots into a holdfast quite out of sight. A man may have good eyes, and yet may not be able to see an object, because another substance comes in the way. You could not even see the sun if a handkerchief, or a mere piece of rag, were tied over your face. Oh, the bandages which men persist in binding over their own eyes! A sweet sin, harboured in the heart, will prevent a soul from laying hold upon Christ by faith. The Lord Jesus has come to save us from sinning; and if we are resolved to go on sinning, Christ and our souls will never agree. If a man takes poison, and a doctor is called in to save his life, he may have a sure antidote ready; but if the patient persists in keeping the poison-bottle at his lips, and will continue to swallow the deadly drops, how can the doctor save him? Salvation consists largely in parting the sinner from his sin, and the very nature of salvation would have to be changed before we could speak of a man's being saved when he is loving sin, and wilfully living in it. A man cannot be made white, and yet continue black; he cannot be healed, and yet remain sick; neither can anyone be saved, and be still a lover of evil. A drunkard will be saved by believing in Christ--that is to say, he will be saved from being a drunkard; but if he determines still to make himself intoxicated, he is not saved from it, and he has not truly believed in Jesus. A liar can by faith be saved from falsehood, but then he leaves off lying, and is careful to speak the truth. Anyone can see with half an eye that he cannot be saved from being a liar, and yet go on in his old style of deceit and untruthfulness. A person who is at enmity with another will be saved from that feeling of enmity by believing in the Lord Jesus; but if he vows that he will still cherish the feeling of hate, it is clear that he is not saved from it, and equally clear that he has not believed in the Lord Jesus unto salvation. The great matter is to be delivered from the love of sin: this is the sure effect of trust in the Saviour; but if this effect is so far from being desired that it is even refused, all talk of trusting in the Saviour for salvation is an idle tale. A man goes to the shipping-office, and asks if he can be taken to America. He is assured that a ship is just ready, and that he has only to go on board, and he will soon reach New York. "But," says he, "I want to stop at home in England, and mind my shop all the time I am crossing the Atlantic." The agent thinks he is talking to a madman, and tells him to go about his business, and not waste his time by playing the fool. To pretend to trust Christ to save you from sin while you are still determined to continue in it, is making a mock of Christ. I pray my reader not to be guilty of such profanity. Let him not dream that the holy Jesus will be the patron of iniquity. [Illustration] Do you see the tree in my picture? The ivy has grown all over it, and is strangling it, sucking out its life, and killing it. Can that tree be saved? The gardener thinks it can be. He is willing to do his best. But before he begins to use his axe and his knife, he is told that he must not cut away the ivy. "Ah! then," he says, "it is impossible. It is the ivy which is killing the tree, and if you want the tree saved, you cannot save the ivy. If you trust me to preserve the tree, you must let me get the deadly climber away from it." Is not that common sense? Certainly it is. You do not trust the tree to the gardener unless you trust him to cut away that which is deadly to it. If the sinner will keep his sin, he must die in it; if he is willing to be rescued from his sin, the Lord Jesus is able to do it, and will do it if he commits his case to his care. What, then, is your darling sin? Is it any gross wrong-doing? Then very shame should make you cease from it. Is it love of the world, or fear of men, or longing for evil gains? Surely, none of these things should reconcile you to living in enmity with God, and beneath his frown. Is it a human love, which is eating like a canker into the heart? Can any creature rival the Lord Jesus? Is it not idolatry to allow any earthly thing to compare for one instant with the Lord God? "Well," saith one, "for me to give up the particular sin by which I am held captive, would be to my serious injury in business, would ruin my prospects, and lessen my usefulness in many ways." If it be so, you have your case met by the words of the Lord Jesus, who bids you to pluck out your eye, and cut off your hand or foot, and cast it from you, rather than be cast into hell. It is better to enter into life with one eye, with the poorest prospects, than to keep all your hopes, and be out of Christ. Better be a lame believer than a leaping sinner. Better be in the rear rank for life in the army of Christ than lead the van and be a chief officer under the command of Satan. If you win Christ, it will little matter what you lose. No doubt many have had to suffer that which has maimed and lamed them for this life; but if they have entered thereby into eternal life, they have been great gainers. It comes to this, my friend, as it did with John Bunyan; a voice now speaks to you, and says-- WILT THOU KEEP THY SIN AND GO TO HELL? OR LEAVE THY SIN AND GO TO HEAVEN? The point should be decided before you quit the spot. In the name of God, I ask you, Which shall it be--Christ and salvation, or the favourite sin and damnation? There is no middle course. Waiting or refusing to decide will practically be a sure decision for the evil one. He that stands questioning whether he will be honest or not, is already out of the straight line: he that does not know whether he wishes to be cleansed from sin gives evidence of a foul heart. If you are anxious to give up every evil way, our Lord Jesus will enable you to do so at once. His grace has already changed the direction of your desires: in fact, your heart is renewed. Therefore, rest on him to strengthen you to battle with temptations as they arise, and to fulfil the Lord's commands from day to day. The Lord Jesus is great at making the lame man to leap like a hart, and in enabling those who are sick of the palsy to take up their bed and walk. He will make you able to conquer the evil habit. He will even cast the devil out of you. Yes, if you had seven devils, he could drive them out at once; there is no limit to his power to cleanse and sanctify. Now that you are willing to be made whole, the great difficulty is removed. He that has set the will right can arrange all your other powers, and make them move to his praise. You would not have earnestly desired to quit all sin if he had not secretly inclined you in that direction. If you now trust him, it will be clear that he has begun a good work in you, and we feel assured that he will carry it on. [Illustration] ON RAISING QUESTIONS. In these days, a simple, childlike faith is very rare; but the usual thing is to believe nothing, and question everything. Doubts are as plentiful as blackberries, and all hands and lips are stained with them. To me it seems very strange that men should hunt up difficulties as to their own salvation. If I were doomed to die, and I had a hint of mercy, I am sure I should not set my wits to work to find out reasons why I should not be pardoned. I could leave my enemies to do that: I should be on the look-out in a very different direction. If I were drowning, I should sooner catch at a straw than push a life-belt away from me. To reason against one's own life is a sort of constructive suicide of which only a drunken man would be guilty. To argue against your only hope is like a foolish man sitting on a bough, and chopping it away so as to let himself down. Who but an idiot would do that? Yet many appear to be special pleaders for their own ruin. They hunt the Bible through for threatening texts; and when they have done with that, they turn to reason, and philosophy, and scepticism, in order to shut the door in their own faces. Surely this is poor employment for a sensible man. [Illustration] Many nowadays who cannot quite get away from religious thought, are able to stave off the inconvenient pressure of conscience by quibbling over the great truths of revelation. Great mysteries are in the Book of God of necessity; for how can the infinite God so speak that all his thoughts can be grasped by finite man? But it is the height of folly to get discussing these deep things, and to leave plain, soul-saving truths in abeyance. It reminds one of the two philosophers who debated about food, and went away empty from the table, while the common countryman in the corner asked no question, but used his knife and fork with great diligence, and went on his way rejoicing. Thousands are now happy in the Lord through receiving the gospel like little children; while others, who can always see difficulties, or invent them, are as far off as ever from any comfortable hope of salvation. I know many very decent people who seem to have resolved never to come to Christ till they can understand how the doctrine of election is consistent with the free invitations of the gospel. I might just as well determine never to eat a morsel of bread till it has been explained to me how it is that God keeps me alive, and yet I must eat to live. The fact is, that we most of us _know_ quite enough already, and the real want with us is not light in the head, but truth in the heart; not help over difficulties, but grace to make us hate sin and seek reconciliation. [Illustration] Here let me add a warning against tampering with the Word of God. No habit can be more ruinous to the soul. It is cool, contemptuous impertinence to sit down and correct your Maker, and it tends to make the heart harder than the nether millstone. We remember one who used a penknife on his Bible, and it was not long before he had given up all his former beliefs. The spirit of reverence is healthy, but the impertinence of criticizing the inspired Word is destructive of all proper feeling towards God. If ever a man does feel his need of a Saviour after treating Scripture with a proud, critical spirit, he is very apt to find his conscience standing in the way, and hindering him from comfort by reminding him of ill-treatment of the sacred Word. It comes hard to him to draw consolation out of passages of the Bible which he has treated cavalierly, or even set aside altogether, as unworthy of consideration. In his distress the sacred texts seem to laugh at his calamity. When the time of need comes, the wells which he stopped with stones yield no water for his thirst. Beware, when you despise a Scripture, lest you cast away the only friend that can help you in the hour of agony. [Illustration] A certain German duke was accustomed to call upon his servant to read a chapter of the Bible to him every morning. When anything did not square with his judgment he would sternly cry, "Hans, strike that out." At length Hans was a long time before he began to read. He fumbled over the Book, till his master called out, "Hans, why do you not read?" Then Hans answered, "Sir, there is hardly anything left. It is all struck out!" One day his master's objections had run one way, and another day they had taken another turn, and another set of passages had been blotted, till nothing was left to instruct or comfort him. Let us not, by carping criticism, destroy our own mercies. We may yet need those promises which appear needless; and those portions of Holy Writ which have been most assailed by sceptics may yet prove essential to our very life: wherefore let us guard the priceless treasure of the Bible, and determine never to resign a single line of it. What have we to do with recondite questions while our souls are in peril? The way to escape from sin is plain enough. The wayfaring man, though a fool, shall not err therein. God has not mocked us with a salvation which we cannot understand. BELIEVE AND LIVE is a command which a babe may comprehend and obey. Doubt no more, but now believe; Question not, but just receive. Artful doubts and reasonings be Nailed with Jesus to the tree. Instead of cavilling at Scripture, the man who is led of the Spirit of God will close in with the Lord Jesus at once. Seeing that thousands of decent, common-sense people--people, too, of the best character--are trusting their all with Jesus, he will do the same, and have done with further delays. Then has he begun a life worth living, and he may have done with further fear. He may at once advance to that higher and better way of living, which grows out of love to Jesus, the Saviour. Why should not the reader do so at once? Oh that he would! [Illustration] A Newark, New Jersey, butcher received a letter from his old home in Germany, notifying that he had, by the death of a relative, fallen heir to a considerable amount of money. He was cutting up a pig at the time. After reading the letter, he hastily tore off his dirty apron, and did not stop to see the pork cut up into sausages, but left the shop to make preparations for going home to Germany. Do you blame him, or would you have had him stop in Newark with his block and his cleaver? See here the operation of faith. The butcher believed what was told him, and acted on it at once. Sensible fellow, too! God has sent his messages to man, telling him the good news of salvation. When a man believes the good news to be true, he accepts the blessing announced to him, and hastens to lay hold upon it. If he truly believes, he will at once take Christ, with all he has to bestow, turn from his present evil ways, and set out for the Heavenly City, where the full blessing is to be enjoyed. He cannot be holy too soon, or too early quit the ways of sin. If a man could really see what sin is, he would flee from it as from a deadly serpent, and rejoice to be freed from it by Christ Jesus. [Illustration] WITHOUT FAITH NO SALVATION. Some think it hard that there should be nothing for them but ruin if they will not believe in Jesus Christ; but if you will think for a minute you will see that it is just and reasonable. I suppose there is no way for a man to keep his strength up except by eating. If you were to say, "I will not eat again, I despise such animalism," you might go to Madeira, or travel in all lands (supposing you lived long enough!), but you would most certainly find that no climate and no exercise would avail to keep you alive if you refused food. Would you then complain, "It is a hard thing that I should die because I do not believe in eating"? It is not an unjust thing that if you are so foolish as not to eat, you must die. It is precisely so with believing. "Believe, and thou art saved." If thou wilt not believe, it is no hard thing that thou shouldst be lost. It would be strange indeed if it were not to be the case. A man who is thirsty stands before a fountain. "No," he says, "I will never touch a drop of moisture as long as I live. Cannot I get my thirst quenched in my own way?" We tell him, no; he must drink or die. He says, "I will never drink; but it is a hard thing that I must therefore die. It is a bigoted, cruel thing to tell me so." He is wrong. His thirst is the inevitable result of neglecting a law of nature. You, too, must believe or die; why refuse to obey the command? Drink, man, drink! Take Christ and live. There is the way of salvation, and to enter you must trust Christ; but there is nothing hard in the fact that you must perish if you will not trust the Saviour. Here is a man out at sea; he has a chart, and that chart, if well studied, will, with the help of the compass, guide him to his journey's end. The pole-star gleams out amidst the cloud-rifts, and that, too, will help him. "No," says he, "I will have nothing to do with your stars; I do not believe in the North Pole. I shall not attend to that little thing inside the box; one needle is as good as another needle. I have no faith in your chart, and I will have nothing to do with it. The art of navigation is only a lot of nonsense, got up by people on purpose to make money, and I will not be gulled by it." The man never reaches port, and he says it is a very hard thing--a very hard thing. I do not think so. Some of you say, "I am not going to read the Scriptures; I am not going to listen to your talk about Jesus Christ: I do not believe in such things." Then Jesus says, "He that believeth not shall be damned." "That's very hard," say you. But it is not so. It is not more hard than the fact that if you reject the compass and the pole-star you will not reach your port. There is no help for it; it must be so. You say you will have nothing to do with Jesus and his blood, and you pooh-pooh all religion. You will find it hard to laugh these matters down when you come to die, when the clammy sweat must be wiped from your brow, and your heart beats against your ribs as if it wanted to leap out and fly away from God. O soul! you will find then, that those Sundays, and those services, and this old Book, are something more and better than you thought they were, and you will wonder that you were so simple as to neglect any true help to salvation. Above all, what woe it will be to have neglected Christ, that Pole-star which alone can guide the mariner to the haven of rest! Where do you live? You live, perhaps, on the other side of the river, and you have to cross a bridge before you can get home. You have been so silly as to nurse the notion that you do not believe in bridges, nor in boats, nor in the existence of such a thing as water. You say, "I am not going over any of your bridges, and I shall not get into any of your boats. I do not believe that there is a river, or that there is any such stuff as water." You are going home, and soon you come to the old bridge; but you will not cross it. Yonder is a boat; but you are determined that you will not get into it. There is the river, and you resolve that you will not cross it in the usual way; and yet you think it is very hard that you cannot get home. Surely something has destroyed your reasoning powers, for you would not think it so hard if you were in your senses. If a man will not do the thing that is necessary to a certain end, how can he expect to gain that end? You have taken poison, and the physician brings an antidote, and says, "Take it quickly, or you will die; but if you take it quickly, I will guarantee that the poison will be neutralized." But you say, "No, doctor, I do not believe in antidotes. Let everything take its course; let every tub stand on its own bottom; I will have nothing to do with your remedy. Besides, I do not believe that there is any remedy for the poison I have taken; and, what is more, I don't care whether there is or not." Well, sir, you will die; and when the coroner's inquest is held on your body, the verdict will be, 'Served him right!' So will it be with you if, having heard the gospel of Jesus Christ, you say, "I am too much of an advanced man to have anything to do with that old-fashioned notion of substitution. I shall not attend to the preacher's talk about sacrifice and blood-shedding." Then, when you perish, the verdict given by your conscience, which will sit upon the King's quest at last, will run thus, "_Suicide: he destroyed his own soul_." So says the old Book--"O Israel, thou hast destroyed thyself!" Reader, I implore thee, do not so. [Illustration] TO THOSE WHO HAVE BELIEVED. Friends, if now you have begun to trust the Lord, trust him out and out. Let your faith be the most real and practical thing in your whole life. Don't trust the Lord in mere sentiment about a few great spiritual things; but trust him for everything, for ever, both for time and eternity, for body and for soul. See how the Lord hangeth the world upon nothing but his own word! It has neither prop nor pillar. Yon great arch of heaven stands without a buttress or a wooden centre. The Lord can and will bear all the strain that faith can ever put upon him. The greatest troubles are easy to his power, and the darkest mysteries are clear to his wisdom. Trust God up to the hilt. Lean, and lean hard; yes, lean all your weight, and every other weight upon the Mighty God of Jacob. [Illustration] The future you can safely leave with the Lord, who ever liveth and never changeth. The past is now in your Saviour's hand, and you shall never be condemned for it, whatever it may have been, for the Lord has cast your iniquities into the midst of the sea. Believe at this moment in your present privileges. YOU ARE SAVED. If you are a believer in the Lord Jesus, you have passed from death unto life, and YOU ARE SAVED. In the old slave days a lady brought her black servant on board an English ship, and she laughingly said to the Captain, "I suppose if I and Aunt Chloe were to go to England she would be free?" "Madam," said the Captain, "she is _now_ free. The moment she came on board a British vessel she was free." When the negro woman knew this, she did not leave the ship--not she. It was not _the hope of liberty_ that made her bold, but _the fact of liberty_. So you are not now merely hoping for eternal life, but "_He that believeth in him hath everlasting life_." Accept this as a fact revealed in the sacred Word, and begin to rejoice accordingly. Do not reason about it, or call it in question; believe it, and leap for joy. I want my reader, upon believing in the Lord Jesus, to believe for _eternal_ salvation. Do not be content with the notion that you can receive a new birth which will die out, a heavenly life which will expire, a pardon which will be recalled. The Lord Jesus gives to his sheep _eternal_ life, and do not be at rest until you have it. Now, if it be eternal, how can it die out? Be saved out and out, for eternity. There is "a living and incorruptible seed, which liveth and abideth for ever"; do not be put off with a temporary change, a sort of grace which will only bloom to fade. You are now starting on the railway of grace--_take a ticket all the way through_. I have no commission to preach to you salvation for a time: the gospel I am bidden to set before you is, "He that believeth and is baptized shall be saved." He shall be saved from sin, from going back to sin, from turning aside to the broad road. May the Holy Spirit lead you to believe for nothing less than that. "Do you mean," says one, "that I am to believe if I once trust Christ I shall be saved whatever sin I may choose to commit?" I have never said anything of the kind. I have described true salvation as a thorough change of heart of so radical a kind that it will alter your tastes and desires; and I say that if you have such a change wrought in you by the Holy Spirit, it will be permanent; for the Lord's work is not like the cheap work of the present day, which soon goes to pieces. Trust the Lord to keep you, however long you may live, and however much you may be tempted; and "according to your faith, so be it unto you." Believe in Jesus for _everlasting_ life. Oh, that you may also trust the Lord for all the sufferings of this present time! In the world you will have tribulation; learn by faith to know that all things work together for good, and then submit yourself to the Lord's will. Look at the sheep when it is being shorn. If it lies quite still, the shears will not hurt it; if it struggles, or even shrinks, it may be pricked. Submit yourselves under the hand of God, and affliction will lose its sharpness. Self-will and repining cause us a hundred times more grief than our afflictions themselves. So believe your Lord as to be certain that his will must be far better than yours, and therefore you not only submit to it, but even rejoice in it. [Illustration] Trust the Lord Jesus in the matter of _sanctification_. Certain friends appear to think that the Lord Jesus cannot sanctify them wholly, spirit, soul, and body. Hence they willingly give way to such and such sins under the notion that there is no help for it, but that they must pay tribute to the devil as long as they live in that particular form. Do not basely bow your neck in bondage to any sin, but strike hard for liberty. Be it anger, or unbelief, or sloth, or any other form of iniquity, we are able, by divine grace, to drive out the Canaanite, and, what is more, we must drive him out. No virtue is impossible to him that believeth in Jesus, and no sin need have victory over him. Indeed, it is written, "Sin shall not have dominion over you: for ye are not under the law, but under grace." Believe for high degrees of joy in the Lord, and likeness to Jesus, and advance to take full possession of these precious things; for as thou believest, so shall it be unto thee. "All things are possible to him that believeth"; and he who is the chief of sinners may yet be not a whit behind the greatest of saints. Often realize the joy of heaven. This is grand faith; and yet it is no more than we ought to have. Within a very short time the man who believes in the Lord Jesus shall be with him where he is. This head will wear a crown; these eyes shall see the King in his beauty; these ears shall hear his own dear voice; this soul shall be in glory; and this poor body shall be raised from the dead and joined in incorruption to the perfected soul! Glory, glory, glory! And so near, so sure. Let us at once rehearse the music and anticipate the bliss! But cries one, "We are not there yet." No: but faith fills us with delight in the blessed prospect, and meanwhile it sustains us on the road. Reader, I long that you may be a firm believer in the Lord alone. I want you to get wholly upon the rock, and not keep a foot on the sand. In this mortal life _trust God for all things_; and trust him alone. This is the way to live. I know it by experience. God's bare arm is quite enough to lean upon. I will give you a bit of the experience of an old labouring man I once knew. He feared God above many, and was very deeply taught of the Spirit. My picture will show you what kind of a man he was--great at hedging and ditching; but greater at simple trust. Here is how he described faith:--"It was a bitter winter, and I had no work, and no bread in the house. The children were crying. The snow was deep, and my way was dark. My old master told me I might have a bit of wood when I wanted it; so I thought a bit of fire would warm the poor children, and I went out with my chopper to get some fuel. I was standing near a deep ditch full of snow, which had drifted into it many feet deep--in fact, I did not know how deep. While aiming a blow at a bit of wood my bill-hook slipped out of my hand, and went right down into the snow, where I could not hope to find it. Standing there with no food, no fire, and the chopper gone, something seemed to say to me, 'Will Richardson, can you trust God now?' and my very soul said, 'That I can.'" This is true faith--the faith which trusts the Lord when the bill-hook is gone: the faith which believes God when all outward appearances give him the lie; the faith which is happy with God alone when all friends turn their backs upon you. Dear reader, may you and I have this precious faith, this real faith, this God-honouring faith! The Lord's truth deserves it; his love claims it, his faithfulness constrains it. Happy is he who has it! He is the man whom the Lord loves, and the world shall be made to know it before all is finished. [Illustration: OLD WILL, THE LABOURER.] After all, the very best faith is an everyday faith: the faith which deals with bread and water, coats and stockings, children and cattle, house-rent and weather. The super-fine confectionery religion which is only available on Sundays, and in drawing-room meetings and Bible readings, will never take a soul to heaven till life becomes one long Conference, and there are seven Sabbaths in a week. Faith is doing her very best when for many years she plods on, month by month, trusting the Lord about the sick husband, the failing daughter, the declining business, the unconverted friend, and such-like things. Faith also helps us to use the world as not abusing it. It is good at hard work, and at daily duty. It is not an angelic thing for skies and stars, but a human grace, at home in kitchens and workshops. It is a sort of maid-of-all-work, and is at home at every kind of labour, and in every rank of life. It is a grace for every day, all the year round. Holy confidence in God is never out of work. Faith's ware is so valued at the heavenly court that she always has one fine piece of work or another on the wheel or in the furnace. Men dream that heroes are only to be made on special occasions, once or twice in a century; but in truth the finest heroes are home-spun, and are more often hidden in obscurity than platformed by public observation. Trust in the living God is the bullion out of which heroism is coined. Perseverance in well-doing is one of the fields in which faith grows not flowers, but the wheat of her harvest. Plodding on in hard work, bringing up a family on a few shillings a week, bearing constant pain with patience, and so forth--these are the feats of valour through which God is glorified by the rank and file of his believing people. Reader, you and I will be of one mind in this: we will not pine to be great, but we will be eager to be good. For this we will rely upon the Lord our God, whose we are, and whom we serve. We will ask to be made holy throughout every day of the week. We will pray to our God as much about our daily business as about our soul's salvation. We will trust him concerning our farm, and our turnips and our cows as well as concerning our spiritual privileges and our hope of heaven. The Lord Jehovah is our household God; Jesus is our brother born for adversity; and the Holy Spirit is our Comforter in every hour of trial. We have not an unapproachable God: he hears, he pities, he helps. Let us trust him without a break, without a doubt, without a hesitation. The life of faith is life within God's wicket-gate. If we have hitherto stood trembling outside in the wide world of unbelief, may the Holy Spirit enable us now to take the great decisive step, and say, once for all, "Lord, I believe: help thou mine unbelief!" _Any book in this Catalogue sent postage prepaid on receipt of the price._ RELIGIOUS AND DEVOTIONAL BOOKS PUBLISHED BY THE American Tract Society, 10 East 23d Street, New York. BOSTON, 54 Bromfield St. PHILADELPHIA, 1512 Chestnut St. ROCHESTER, 93 State St. CHICAGO, 211-213 Wabash Avenue. 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6135	----	WHEN THE HOLY GHOST IS COME. BY COLONEL S. L. BRENGLE, Edited by BRAMWELL BOOTH. FOREWORD. The Salvation Army, contrary to what has often been thought by surface observers, has owed its existence, its strength, and its success chiefly to our careful attention to the profoundest questions of the soul. And still, as always, we wish to urge upon all the study of those great practical truths, without the proclamation of which our work for men would cease to have any abiding value. We glory in the knowledge of Christ as a perfect Saviour just as much for this, our own time, as for any past generation, or for any generation yet to come. The pretence that this age has reached some superior development, whether mental or moral, for which a new kind of Saviour is needed, seems to us absurd. And we do not believe it can long endure where Christ is really known. To the most thoughtful, therefore, as well as to those who have the least time for thought, I earnestly commend the words of devout and practical men upon those great questions, which I hope to see reproduced in the series of which the present volume is the first. Prayerful reading of their messages cannot but lead to immediate action, to a complete self-abandonment to God, and to a realizing faith in His power to use every one of His sons and daughters for the healing of the world's open sores and the triumph of His Rule. BRAMWELL BOOTH. LONDON, January, 1909. CONTENTS. PREFACE I. WHO IS HE? II. PREPARING HIS HOUSE III. IS THE BAPTISM WITH THE HOLY SPIRIT A THIRD BLESSING? IV. THE WITNESS OF THE SPIRIT V. PURITY VI. POWER VII. TRYING THE SPIRITS VIII. GUIDANCE IX. THE MEEK AND LOWLY HEART X. HOPE XI. THE HOLY SPIRIT'S SUBSTITUTE FOR GOSSIP AND EVIL-SPEAKING XII. THE SIN AGAINST THE HOLY GHOST XIII. OFFENCES AGAINST THE HOLY GHOST XIV. THE HOLY SPIRIT AND SOUND DOCTRINE XV. PRAYING IN THE SPIRIT XVI. CHARACTERISTICS OF THE ANOINTED PREACHER XVII. PREACHING XIX. THE SHEATHED SWORD: A LAW OF THE SPIRIT XX. VICTORY THROUGH THE HOLY SPIRIT OVER SUFFERING XXI. THE OVERFLOWING BLESSING XXII. IMPORTANCE OF THE DOCTRINE AND EXPERIENCE OF HOLINESS TO SPIRITUAL LEADERS XXIII. VICTORY OVER EVIL TEMPER BY THE POWER OF THE HOLY SPIRIT PREFACE. It is no small pleasure to me to commend this book to all who love God, and in particular to those who are labouring to serve Him in the ranks of The Salvation Army. I believe that it will prove useful in the most important ways--in its bearing, that is, upon many of the practical difficulties and problems of daily life. The writer, Colonel Brengle, gives us not only of the fruit of an orderly and well-stored mind on the great subject before us, but--and this is the more important--he tells us of the actual work of the Holy Spirit in the lives of ordinary men and women, as he has witnessed the results of that work amidst his many labours for the Salvation and Holiness of the people. It is for them he writes. It is to them, living the common life, bound to others by the obligations of ordinary social intercourse, toiling at their secular occupations, and rubbing shoulders with the multitude in the market-place, that his message comes. I venture to hope that his words will make it plain to some of them that the highest intercourse with the Divine is their privilege; that the special province of the Holy Ghost is to lead men into the truest devotion to God, and to the advancement of His Kingdom on earth, even while they are carrying on the common avocations associated with earning their daily bread. The only purpose of God having a practical bearing on our lives is His purpose to save men from sin and its awful consequences, and make them conform to His will in this world as in the next. The work of the Holy Spirit is to help us to achieve that purpose. Without His help we are unable to overcome the difficulties that are in the way, whether we consider them from the standpoint of the world or of the individual. If anyone could have looked at the state of the world at the time of our Lord's death he would surely have regarded the work which the Apostles were commissioned to attempt as the most utterly wild and impracticable enterprise that the human mind could conceive. And it was so, but for one fact. That fact was the promise of the Comforter, the Holy Spirit, to be the great Helper in the undertaking. And equally in the work of uniting the individual soul with God's purpose that Spirit is our Helper. In the work of righteousness He is a Partner with us. In the life of faith and prayer He is our unwavering Prompter and Guide. In the submission of our wills to God and the chastening of our spirits He is the great Co-worker with us. In the bearing of burdens and the enduring of trial and sorrow He joins hands with us to lead us on. In the purifying of every power from the taint of sin He is our Sanctifier. All this is practical. It has to do with to-day--with every bit of to-day. In fact, so far from the sphere of the Holy Spirit being limited to the pulpit or the platform, or to the inward experiences of the religious life, He is just as truly and properly concerned with the affairs of the shop and the street, the nursery and the kitchen, the chamber of suffering and the home of penury, as with preaching the Gospel or healing the sick. Now it is to lead its readers to a personal experience of all this that this book has been written. No mere intellectual assent to the truth it sets forth can satisfy its author, any more than it can benefit his readers. What he seeks, and what I join him in devoutly asking of God, is that you, dear friend, who may take this little volume into your hands, may see what an infinite privilege is yours, and may begin to act with God the Holy Ghost, and to open your whole being to Him, that He may work with you. BRAMWELL BOOTH. LONDON, January, 1909. I. WHO IS HE? "Ye shall receive power after that the Holy Ghost is come upon you." On that last eventful evening in the upper room, just after the Passover feast, Jesus spoke to His disciples about His departure, and, having commanded them to love one another, He besought them not to be troubled in heart, but to hold fast their faith in Him, assuring them that, though He was to die and leave them, He was but going to the Father's many-mansioned house to prepare a place for them. But already they were troubled, for what could this death and departure mean but the destruction of all their hopes, of all their cherished plans? Jesus had drawn them away from their fishing-boats, their places of custom and daily employment, and inspired them with high personal and patriotic ambitions, and encouraged them to believe that He was the Seed of David, the promised Messiah; and they hoped that He would cast out Pilate and his hated Roman garrison, restore the kingdom to Israel, and sit on David's throne, a King, reigning in righteousness and undisputed power and majesty for ever. And then, were they not to be His Ministers of State and chief men in His Kingdom? He was their Leader, directing their labours; their Teacher, instructing their ignorance and solving their doubts and all their puzzling problems; their Defence, stilling the stormy sea and answering for them when questioned by wise and wily enemies. They were poor and unlearned and weak. In Him was all their help, and what would they do, what could they do, without Him? They were without social standing, without financial prestige, without learning or intellectual equipment, without political or military power. He was their All, and without Him they were as helpless as little children, as defenceless as lambs in the midst of wolves. How could their poor hearts be otherwise than troubled? But then He gave them a strange, wonderful, reassuring promise: He said, "If ye love Me, keep My commandments. And I will pray the Father, and He shall give you another Comforter, that He may abide with you for ever" (John xiv. 15, 16). I am going away, but Another shall come, who will fill My place. He shall not go away, but abide with you for ever, and He "shall be in you." And later He added: "It is expedient for you"--that is, better for you--"that I go away; for if I go not away, the Comforter will not come." Who is this other One--this Comforter? He must be some august Divine Person, and not a mere influence or impersonal force, for how else could He take and fill the place of Jesus? How else could it be said that it was better to have Him than to have Jesus remaining in the flesh? He must be strong and wise, and tender and true, to take the place of the Blessed One who is to die and depart. Who is He? John, writing in the Greek language, calls Him "Paraclete," but we in English call Him Comforter. But Paraclete means more, much more than Comforter. It means "one called in to help: an advocate, a helper." The same word is used of Jesus in i John ii. i: "We have an Advocate," a Paraclete, a Helper, "with the Father, Jesus Christ the righteous." Just as Jesus had gone to be the disciples' Advocate, their Helper in the Heavens, so this other Paraclete was to be their Advocate, their Helper on earth. He would be their Comforter when comfort was needed; but He would be more; He would be also their Teacher, Guide, Strengthener, as Jesus had been. At every point of need there would He be as an ever-present and all-wise, almighty Helper. He would meet their need with His sufficiency; their weakness with His strength; their foolishness with His wisdom; their ignorance with His knowledge; their blindness and short-sightedness with His perfect, all-embracing vision. Hallelujah! What a Comforter! Why should they be troubled? They were weak, but He would strengthen them with might in the inner man (Eph. iii. 16). They were to give the world the words of Jesus, and teach all nations (Matthew xxviii. 19, 20); and He would teach them all things, and bring to their remembrance whatsoever Jesus had said to them (John xiv. 26). They were to guide their converts in the right way, and He was to guide them into all truth (John xvi. 13). They were to attack hoary systems of evil, and inbred and actively intrenched sin, in every human heart; but He was to go before them, preparing the way for conquest, by convincing the world of sin, of righteousness, and of judgment (John xvi. 8). They were to bear heavy burdens and face superhuman tasks, but He was to give them power (Acts i. 8). Indeed, He was to be a Comforter, a Strengthener, a Helper. Jesus had been external to them. Often they missed Him. Sometimes He was asleep when they felt they sorely needed Him. Sometimes He was on the mountains, while they were in the valley vainly trying to cast out stubborn devils, or wearily toiling on the tumultuous, wind-tossed sea. Sometimes He was surrounded by vast crowds, and He entered into high disputes with the doctors of the law, and they had to wait till He was alone to seek explanations of His teachings. But they were never to lose this other Helper in the crowd, nor be separated for an instant from Him, for no human being, nor untoward circumstance, nor physical necessity, could ever come between Him and them, for, said Jesus, "He shall be in you." From the words used to declare the sayings, the doings, the offices and works of the Comforter, the Holy Spirit, we are forced to conclude that He is a Divine Person. Out of the multitude of Scriptures which might be quoted, note this passage, which, as nearly as is possible with human language, reveals to us His personality: "Now there were in the Church that was at Antioch certain prophets and teachers... As they ministered to the Lord, and fasted, the Holy Ghost said, Separate Me Barnabas and Saul for the work whereunto I have called them. And when they had fasted and prayed, and laid their hands on them, they sent them away. So they, being sent forth by the Holy Ghost, departed into Seleucia" (Acts xiii. 1-4). Further on we read that they "were forbidden of the Holy Ghost to preach the word in Asia"; and when they would have gone into Bithynia, "the Spirit suffered them not" (Acts xvi. 6, 7). Again, when the messengers of Cornelius, the Roman centurion, were seeking Peter, "the Spirit said unto him, Behold, three men seek thee. Arise, therefore, and get thee down, and go with them, doubting nothing: for I have sent them" (Acts x. 19, 20). These are but a few of the passages of Scripture that might be quoted to establish the fact of His personality--His power to think, to will, to act, to speak; and if His personality is not made plain in these Scriptures, then it is impossible for human language to make it so. Indeed, I am persuaded that if an intelligent heathen, who had never seen the Bible, should for the first time read the four Gospels and the Acts of the Apostles, he would say that the personality of the Holy Spirit is as clearly revealed in the Acts as is the personality of Jesus Christ in the Gospels. In truth, the Acts of the Apostles are in a large measure the acts of the Holy Spirit, and the disciples were not more certainly under the immediate direction of Jesus during the three years of His earthly ministry than they were under the direct leadership of the Spirit after Pentecost. But, while there are those that admit His personality, yet in their loyalty to the Divine Unity they deny the Trinity, and maintain that the Holy Spirit is only the Father manifesting Himself as Spirit, without any distinction in personality. But this view cannot be harmonised with certain Scriptures. While the Bible and reason plainly declare that there is but one God, yet the Scriptures as clearly reveal that there are three Persons in the Godhead--Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. The form of Paul's benediction to the Corinthians proves the doctrine:-- "The grace of the Lord Jesus Christ, and the love of God, and the communion of the Holy Ghost, be with you all. Amen" (2 Cor. xiii. 14). Again, it is taught in the promise of Jesus, already quoted, "And I will pray the Father, and He shall give you another Comforter... the Spirit of Truth" (John xiv. 16, 17). Here the three Persons of the Godhead are clearly revealed. The Son prays; the Father answers; the Spirit comes. The Holy Spirit is "another Comforter," a second Comforter succeeding the first, who was Jesus, and both were given by the Father. Do you say, "I cannot understand it"? Neither do I. Who can understand it? God does not expect us to understand it. Nor would He have us puzzle our heads and trouble our hearts in attempting to understand it or harmonise it with our knowledge of arithmetic. Note this: it is only the _fact_ that is revealed; _how_ there can be three Persons in one Godhead is not revealed. The _how_ is a mystery, and is not a matter of faith at all; but the _fact_ is a matter of revelation, and therefore a matter of faith. I myself am a mysterious trinity of body, mind, and spirit. The fact I believe, but the _how_ is not a thing to believe. It is at this point that many puzzle and perplex themselves needlessly. In the ordinary affairs of life we grasp facts, and hold them fast, without puzzling ourselves over the _how_ of things. Who can explain _how_ food sustains life; how light reveals material objects, how sound conveys ideas to our minds? It is the fact we know and believe, but the _how_ we pass by as a mystery unrevealed. What God has revealed, we believe. We cannot understand _how_ Jesus turned water into wine; _how_ He multiplied a few loaves and fishes and fed thousands; _how_ He stilled the stormy sea; _how_ He opened blind eyes, healed lepers, and raised the dead by a word. But the facts we believe. Wireless telegraphic messages are sent over the vast wastes of ocean. That is a fact, and we believe it. But _how_ they go we do not know. That is not something to believe. It is a matter of pure speculation, and is unexplained. An old servant of God has pointed out that it is the fact of the Trinity, and not the _manner_ of it, which God has revealed, and made a subject for our faith. But while the Scriptures reveal to us the fact of the personality of the Holy Spirit, and it is a subject for our faith, to those in whom He dwells this fact may become a matter of sacred knowledge, of blessed experience. How else can we account for the positive and assured way in which the Apostles and disciples spoke of the Holy Ghost on and after the day of Pentecost, if they did not know Him? Immediately after the fiery baptism, with its blessed filling, Peter stood before the people, and said: "This is that which was spoken by the prophet Joel: And it shall come to pass in the last days, saith God, I will pour out My Spirit upon all flesh"; then he exhorted the people and assured them that if they would meet certain simple conditions they should "receive the gift of the Holy Ghost." He said to Ananias, "Why hath Satan filled thine heart to lie to the Holy Ghost?" He declared to the High Priest and Council that he and his fellow-Apostles were witnesses of the resurrection of Jesus: and added, "And so is also the Holy Ghost, whom God hath given to them that obey Him." Without any apology or explanation, or "think so" or "hope so," they speak of being "filled" (not simply with some new, strange experience or emotion, but) "with the Holy Ghost." Certainly they must have known Him. And if they knew Him, may not we? Paul says: "Now we have received, not the spirit of the world, but the Spirit which is of God; that we might know the things that are freely given to us of God. Which things also we speak, not in the words which man's wisdom teacheth, but which the Holy Ghost teacheth" (I Cor. ii. 12, 13). And if we know the words, may we not know the Teacher of the words? John Wesley says:-- "The knowledge of the Three-One God is interwoven with all true Christian faith, with all vital religion. I do not say," he adds, "that every real Christian can say, with the Marquis de Renty, 'I bear about with me continually an experimental verity, and a fullness of the ever-blessed Trinity. I apprehend that this is not the experience of "babes," but rather "fathers in Christ."' But I know not how anyone can be a Christian believer till he 'hath the witness in himself,' till 'the Spirit of God witnesses with his spirit that he is a child of God'; that is, in effect, till God the Holy Ghost witnesses that God the Father has accepted him through the merits of God the Son. "Not that every Christian believer adverts to this; perhaps, at first, not one in twenty; but, if you ask them a few questions, you will easily find it is implied in what he believes." I shall never forget my joy, mingled with awe and wonder, when this dawned upon my consciousness. For several weeks I had been searching the Scriptures, ransacking my heart, humbling my soul, and crying to God almost day and night for a pure heart and the baptism with the Holy Ghost, when one glad, sweet day (it was January 9th, 1885) this text suddenly opened to my understanding: "If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just to forgive us our sins, and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness"; and I was enabled to believe without any doubt that the precious blood cleansed my heart, even mine, from all sin. Shortly after that, while reading these words of Jesus to Martha: "I am the resurrection and the life; he that believeth on Me, though he were dead, yet shall he live; and he that liveth and believeth on Me shall never die," instantly my heart was melted like wax before fire; Jesus Christ was revealed to my spiritual consciousness, revealed in me, and my soul was filled with unutterable love. I walked in a heaven of love. Then one day, with amazement, I said to a friend: "This is the perfect love about which the Apostle John wrote; but it is beyond all I dreamed of; in it is personality; this love thinks, wills, talks with me, corrects me, instructs and teaches me." And then I knew that God the Holy Ghost was in this love, and that this love was God, for "God is love." Oh, the rapture mingled with reverential, holy fear--for it is a rapturous, yet divinely fearful thing--to be indwelt by the Holy Ghost, to be a temple of the Living God! Great heights are always opposite great depths, and from the heights of this blessed experience many have plunged into the dark depths of fanaticism. But we must not draw back from the experience through fear. All danger will be avoided by meekness and lowliness of heart; by humble, faithful service; by esteeming others better than ourselves, and in honour preferring them before ourselves; by keeping an open, teachable spirit; in a word, by looking steadily unto Jesus, to whom the Holy Spirit continually points us: for He would not have us fix our attention exclusively upon Himself and His work _in_ us, but also upon the Crucified One and His work _for_ us, that we may walk in the steps of Him whose blood purchases our pardon, and makes and keeps us clean. "Great Paraclete! to Thee we cry: O highest Gift of God most high! O Fount of life! O Fire of love! And sweet Anointing from above! "Our senses touch with light and fire; Our hearts with tender love inspire; And with endurance from on high The weakness of our flesh supply. "Far back our enemy repel, And let Thy peace within us dwell; So may we, having Thee for Guide, Turn from each hurtful thing aside. "Oh, may Thy grace on us bestow The Father and the Son to know, And evermore to hold confessed Thyself of Each the Spirit blest." "HAVE YE RECEIVED THE HOLY GHOST SINCE YE BELIEVED?" II. PREPARING HIS HOUSE. "Ye shall receive power after that the Holy Ghost is come upon you." JESUS said, "Verily, verily, I say unto thee, Except a man be born of water and of the Spirit, he cannot enter into the Kingdom of God. That which is born of the flesh is flesh; and that which is born of the Spirit is spirit." And Paul wrote to the Romans that, "If any man have not the Spirit of Christ, he is none of His." So it must be that every child of God, every truly converted person, has the Holy Spirit in some gracious manner and measure, else he would not be a child of God; for it is only "as many as are led by the Spirit of God" that "are the sons of God." It is the Holy Spirit who convicts us of sin, who makes us feel how good and righteous, and just and patient God is, and how guilty we are, and how unfit for Heaven, and how near to Hell. It is the Holy Spirit who leads us to true repentance and confession and amendment of life; and when our repentance is complete, and our surrender is unconditional, it is He who reasons with us, and calms our fears, and soothes our troubled hearts, and banishes our darkness, and enables us to look to Jesus, and believe on Him for the forgiveness of all our sins and the salvation of our souls. And when we yield and trust, and are accepted of the Lord, and are saved by grace, it is He who assures us of the Father's favour, and notifies us that we are saved. "The Spirit Himself beareth witness with our spirit that we are the children of God." He is "the Spirit of adoption, whereby we cry, Abba, Father." "And His that gentle voice we hear, Soft as the breath of even; That checks each thought, that calms each fear, And speaks of Heaven." It is He who strengthens the new convert to fight against and overcome sin, and it is He who "begets within him a hope of fuller righteousness through faith in Christ." "And every virtue we possess, And every victory won, And every thought of holiness, Are His alone." Blessed be God for this work of the Holy Spirit within the heart of every true child of His! But, great and gracious as is this work, it is not the fiery pentecostal baptism with the Spirit which is promised; it is not the fullness of the Holy Ghost to which we are exhorted. It is only the clear dawn of the day, and not the rising of the day-star. This is only the initial work of the Spirit. It is perfect of its kind, but it is preparatory to another and fuller work, about which I wish to write. Jesus said to His disciples, concerning the Holy Spirit, that "the world" (the unsaved, unrepentant) "cannot receive" Him, "because it seeth Him not, neither knoweth Him"; because they resist Him, and will not permit Him to work in their hearts. And then Jesus added, "but ye know Him; for He dwelleth with you...." He had begun His work in them, but there was more to follow, for Jesus said, "and shall be in you." When a man is building himself a house, he is in and out of it and round about it. But we do not say he lives in it until it has been completed. And it is in that sense that Jesus said, "He dwelleth with you." But when the house is finished, the owner sweeps out all the chips and saw-dust, scrubs the floor, lays down his carpets, hangs up his pictures, arranges his furniture, and moves in with his family. Then he is in the fullest sense within it. He abides there. Now, it is in that sense that Jesus meant that the Holy Spirit should be in them. This is fitly expressed in one of our songs:-- "Holy Spirit, come, Oh, come! Let Thy work in me be done! All that hinders shall be thrown aside; Make me fit to be Thy dwelling." Previous to Pentecost He was with them, using the searching preaching of John the Baptist, and the life, the words, the example, the sufferings, and the death and resurrection of Jesus as instruments with which to fashion their hearts for His indwelling. As the truth was declared to them in the words of Jesus, pictured to them in His doings, exemplified in His daily life, and fulfilled in His death and His rising from the dead, the Holy Spirit wrought mightily within them; but He could not yet find perfect rest in their hearts; therefore He did not yet abide within them. They had forsaken all to follow Christ. They had been commissioned to preach the Gospel, to heal the sick, to cleanse the lepers, to raise the dead, to cast out devils. Their names were written in Heaven. They were not of the world, even as Jesus was not of the world, for they belonged to Him and to the Father. They knew the Holy Spirit, for He was with them, working in them, but not yet living in them, for they were yet carnal; that is, they were selfish, each seeking the best place for himself. They disputed among themselves as to which should be the greatest. They were bigoted, wanting to call down fire from Heaven to consume those who would not receive Jesus, and forbidding those who would not follow them to cast out devils in His name. They were positive and loud in their professions of devotion and loyalty to Jesus when alone with Him. They declared they would die with Him. But they were fearful, timid, and false to Him when the testing time came. When the mocking crowd appeared, and danger was near, they all forsook Him, and fled; while Peter cursed and swore, and denied that he knew Him. But the Holy Spirit did not forsake them. He still wrought within them, and, no doubt, used their very mistakes and miserable failures to perfect within them the spirit of humility and perfect self-abasement in order that they might safely be exalted. And on the day of Pentecost His work of preparation was complete, and He moved in to abide for ever. Hallelujah! And this experience of theirs before Pentecost is the common experience of all true converts. Every child of God knows that the Holy Spirit is with him; realises that He is working within, striving to set the house in order. And with many who are properly taught and gladly obedient, this work is done quickly, and the heavenly Dove, the Blessed One, takes up his constant abode within them; the toil and strife with inbred sin is ended by its destruction, and they enter at once into the sabbath of full salvation. Surely this is possible. The disciples could not receive the Holy Spirit till Jesus was glorified; because not until then was the foundation for perfect, intelligent, unwavering faith laid. But since the day of Pentecost, He may be received immediately by those who have repented of all sin, who have believed on Jesus, and been born again. Some have assured me that they were sanctified wholly and filled with the Spirit within a few hours of their conversion. I have no doubt that this was so with many of the three thousand who were converted under Peter's preaching on the day of Pentecost. But often this work is slow, for He can only work effectually as we work with Him, practising intelligent and obedient faith. Some days the work prospers and seems almost complete, and then peace and joy and comfort abound in the heart; at other times the work is hindered, and oftentimes almost or quite undone, by the strivings and stirrings of inbred sin, by fits of temper, by lightness and frivolity, by neglect of watchfulness and prayer, and the patient, attentive study of His word; by worldliness, by unholy ambitions, by jealousies and envyings, by uncharitable suspicions and harsh judgments and selfish indulgences, and slowness to believe. "The flesh lusteth against the Spirit," seeks to bring the soul back under the bondage of sin again, while the Spirit wars against the flesh, which is "the old man," "the carnal mind." The Spirit seeks to bring every thought into "captivity to the obedience of Christ," to lead the soul to that point of glad, whole-hearted consecration to its Lord, and that simple, perfect faith in the merits of His blood which shall enable Him to cast out "the old man," destroy "the carnal mind," and, making the heart His temple, enthrone Christ within. "Here on earth a temple stands, Temple never built with hands; There the Lord doth fill the place With the glory of His grace. Cleansed by Christ's atoning blood, _Thou_ art this fair house of God. Thoughts, desires, that enter there, Should they not be pure and fair? Meet for holy courts and blest, Courts of stillness and of rest, Where the soul, a priest in white, Singeth praises day and night; Glory of the love divine, Filling all this heart of mine." My brother, my sister, what is your experience just now? Are you filled with the Spirit? Or is the old man still warring against Him in your heart? Oh, that you may receive Him fully by faith just now! "Have ye received the Holy Ghost since ye believed?" III. IS THE BAPTISM WITH THE HOLY SPIRIT A THIRD BLESSING? "Ye shall receive power after that the Holy Ghost is come upon you." There is much difference of opinion among many of God's children as to the time and order of the baptism with the Holy Spirit, and many who believe that entire cleansing is subsequent to salvation, ask if the baptism with the Spirit is not subsequent to cleansing, and, therefore, a third blessing. There are four classes of teachers whose views appear to differ about this subject. There are:-- 1. Those who emphasise cleansing; who say much of a clean heart, but little, if anything, about the fullness of the Holy Spirit and power from on High. 2. Those who emphasise the baptism with the Holy Ghost and fullness of the Spirit, but say little or nothing of cleansing from inbred sin and the destruction of the carnal mind. 3. Those who say much of both, but separate them into two distinct experiences, often widely separated in time. 4. Those who teach that the truth is in the union of the two, and that, while we may separate them in their order, putting cleansing first, we cannot separate them as to time, since it is the baptism that cleanses, just as the darkness vanishes before the flash of the electric light when the right button is touched; just as the Augean stables were cleansed, in the fabled story of Grecian mythology, when Hercules turned in the floods of the River Arno; the refuse went out as the rushing waters poured in. There are three very blessed portions of Scripture which show us that this is God's order, and two that plainly show us that cleansing and the baptism are not separate in time. In Psalm li. 10 and 12, David prays, "Create in me a clean heart, O God, and renew a right spirit within me.... Uphold me with Thy free Spirit." First the cleansing, then the filling that upholds: for as it is my spirit within me that upholds my body, so it is God's Spirit within that upholds my soul. In Ezekiel xxxvi. 25 and 27, the Lord says, "Then will I sprinkle clean water upon you, and ye shall be clean: from all your filthiness, and from all your idols, will I cleanse you.... And I will put My Spirit within you." Here again, the order is first cleansing, then filling. In John xvii. 15-26, Jesus prays for His disciples, and says: "I pray not that Thou shouldst take them out of the world, but that Thou shouldst keep them from the evil.... Sanctify them;... that they all may be one; as Thou, Father, art in Me, and I in Thee; that they also may be one in Us;... I in them, and Thou in Me, that they may be made perfect in one;... that the love wherewith Thou hast loved Me may be in them, and I in them." Here, again, it is first sanctification (cleansing, being made holy), then filling, divine union with the Father and the Son through the Holy Spirit. These Scriptures make plain the order of God's work, and if we looked at them alone, without diligently comparing Scripture with Scripture, as God would have us do, we might perhaps conclude that the cleansing and filling were as distinct and separate in time as they are in this order of statement. But other Scriptures give us abundant light on that side of the subject. In Isaiah vi. 1-8, we have the record of the prophet's sanctification, and we notice that the cleansing and the filling were not separate in time. The cleansing was not _before_ the baptism, but _by_ the baptism. The "live coal" was laid upon his mouth, and touched his lips; and by this fiery baptism his iniquity was taken away and his sin was purged. In Acts x. 44, we read of Peter's preaching Jesus to Cornelius, the Roman centurion, and his household; and "while Peter yet spake these words, the Holy Ghost fell on all them which heard the word"; and in Acts xv. 7-9, at the first Council in Jerusalem, we have Peter's rehearsal of the experience of Cornelius and his household. Peter says: "Men and brethren, ye know how that a good while ago God made choice among us, that the Gentiles by my mouth should hear the word of the Gospel, and believe. And God, which knoweth the hearts, bare them witness, giving them the Holy Ghost, even as He did unto us; and put no difference between us and them, purifying their hearts by faith." Here we see that their believing, and the sudden descent of the Holy Ghost with cleansing power into their hearts, constitute one blessed experience. What patient, waiting, expectant faith reckons done, the baptism with the Holy Ghost actually accomplishes. Between the act of faith by which a man begins to reckon himself "dead indeed unto sin, but alive unto God through Jesus Christ our Lord" (Romans vi. 11), and the act of the Holy Spirit, which makes the reckoning good, there may be an interval of time, "a little while" (Hebrews x. 37); but the act and state of steadfastly, patiently, joyously, perfectly believing, which is man's part, and the act of baptising with the Holy Ghost, cleansing as by fire, which is God's part, bring about the one experience of entire sanctification, and must not and cannot be logically looked upon as two distinct blessings, any more than the act of the husband and the act of the wife can be separated in the one experience of marriage. There are two works and two workers: God and man. Just as my right arm and my left arm work when my two hands come together, but the union of the two hands constitute one experience. If my left arm acts quickly, my right arm will surely respond. And so, if the soul, renouncing self and sin and the world, with ardour of faith in the precious blood for cleansing, and in the promise of the gift of the Holy Spirit, draws nigh to God, God will draw nigh to that soul, and the blessed union will be effected suddenly: and in that instant, what faith has reckoned done will be done, the death-stroke will be given to "the old man," sin will die, and the heart will be clean indeed, and wholly alive toward God through our Lord Jesus Christ. It will not be a mere "make-believe" experience, but a gloriously real one. It is possible that some have been led into confusion of thought on this subject by not considering all the Scriptures bearing on it. What is it that cleanses or sanctifies, and how? Jesus prays: "Sanctify them through Thy truth: Thy word is truth." Here it is the word, or truth, that sanctifies. John says: "The blood of Jesus Christ His Son cleanseth us from all sin." Here it is the blood. Peter says: "God...put no difference between us and them, purifying their hearts by faith." And Paul says: "That they may receive forgiveness of sins, and inheritance among them which are sanctified by faith." Here it is by faith. Again, Paul writes: "God hath from the beginning chosen you to salvation through sanctification of the Spirit" (2 Thess. ii. 13). And again, "That the offering up of the Gentiles might be acceptable, being sanctified by the Holy Ghost" (Romans xv. 16). And Peter writes: "To the strangers... elect... through sanctification of the Spirit" (1 Peter i. I, 2). Here it is the Spirit that sanctifies or makes clean and holy. Is there, then, confusion here? Jesus says, "the truth"; John says, "the blood"; Paul and Peter say, "faith," and "the Holy Ghost." Can these be reconciled? Let us see. Here is a child in a burning house. A man at the peril of his life rushes to the spot above which the child stands in awful danger, and cries out, "Jump, and I will catch you!" The child hears, believes, leaps, and the man receives him; but just as he turns and places the boy in safety, a falling timber smites him to the ground wounded to death, and his flowing blood sprinkles the boy whom he has saved. A breathless spectator says: "The child's faith saved him." Another says: "How quick the lad was! His courageous leap saved him." Another says: "Bless the child! He was in awful danger, and he just barely saved himself." Another says: "That man's word just reached the boy's ear in the nick of time, and saved him." Another says: "God bless that man! He saved that child." And yet another says: "That boy was saved by blood; by the sacrifice of that heroic man!" Now, what saved the child? Without the man's presence and promise there would have been no faith; and without faith there would have been no saving action, and the boy would have perished. The man's word saved him by inspiring faith. Faith saved him by leading to proper action. He saved himself by leaping. The man saved him by sacrificing his own life in order to catch him when he leaped out. Not the child himself alone, nor his faith, nor his brave leap, nor his rescuer's word, nor his blood, nor the man himself saved the boy, but they all together saved him; and the boy was not saved till he was in the arms of the man. And so it is faith and works, and the word and the blood and the Holy Ghost that sanctify. The blood, the sacrifice of Christ, underlies all, and is the meritorious cause of every blessing we receive, but the Holy Spirit is the active Agent by whom the merits of the blood are applied to our needs. During the American Civil War certain men committed some dastardly and unlawful deeds, and were sentenced to be shot. On the day of the execution they stood in a row confronted by soldiers with loaded muskets, waiting the command to fire. Just before the command was given, the commanding officer felt a touch on his elbow, and, turning, saw a young man by his side, who said, "Sir, there in that row, waiting to be shot, is a married man. He has a wife and children. He is their bread-winner. If you shoot him, he will be sorely missed. _Let me take his place._" "All right," said the officer; "take his place, if you wish; but you will be shot." "I quite understand that," replied the young man; "but no one will miss me"; and, going to the condemned man, he pushed him aside, and took his place. Soon the command to fire was given. The volley rang out, and the young hero dropped dead with a bullet through his heart, while the other man went free. His freedom came to him by blood. Had he, however, neglected the great salvation, and, despising the blood shed for him, and refusing the sacrifice of the friend and the righteous claims of the law, persisted in the same evil ways, he, too, would have been shot. The blood, though shed for him, would not have availed to set him free. But he accepted the sacrifice, submitted to the law, and went home to his wife and children; but it was by the blood; every breath he henceforth drew, every throb of his heart, every blessing he enjoyed, or possibly could enjoy, came to him by the blood. He owed everything from that day forth to the blood, and every fleeting moment, every passing day, and every rolling year but increased his debt to the blood which had been shed for him. And so we owe all to the blood of Christ, for we were under sentence of death--"The soul that sinneth it shall die"; and we have all sinned, and God, to be holy, must frown upon sin, and utterly condemn it, and must execute His sentence against it. But Jesus suffered for our sins. He died for us. "He was wounded for our transgressions, He was bruised for our iniquities;... and with His stripes we are healed." "Ye know that ye were not redeemed with corruptible things, as silver and gold... but with the precious blood of Christ" (i Peter i. 18, 19); "Who loved me, and gave Himself for me" (Gal. ii. 20). And now every blessing we ever had, or ever shall have, comes to us by the Divine Sacrifice, by "the precious blood." And "How shall we escape, if we neglect so great salvation?" His blood is the meritorious cause not only of our pardon, but of our cleansing, our sanctification; but the Holy Spirit is the ever-present, living, active Cause. The truth or word which sanctifies is the record God has given us of His will and of that Divine Sacrifice, that "precious blood." The faith that purifies is that sure confidence in that word which leads to renunciation of all self-righteousness, that utter abandonment to God's will, and full dependence on the merits of "the precious blood," the "faith that works by love," for "faith without works is dead." And thus we draw nigh to God, and God draws nigh to us, and the Holy Ghost falls upon us, comes into us, and cleanses our hearts by the destruction of sin, and the shedding abroad within us of the love of God. The advocates of entire sanctification as an experience wrought in the soul by the baptism with the Spirit subsequent to regeneration call it "the second blessing." But many good people object to the term, and say that they have received the first, second, third, and fiftieth blessing; and no doubt they have; and yet the people who speak of "the second blessing" are right, in the sense in which they use the term; and in that sense there are but the two blessings. Some years ago a man heard things about a lady that filled him with admiration for her, and made him feel that they were of one mind and heart. Later, he met her for the first time, and fell in love with her. After some months, following an enlarged acquaintance and much consideration and prayer, he told her of his love, and asked her to become his wife; and after due consideration and prayer on her part she consented, and they promised themselves to each other; they plighted their faith, and in a sense gave themselves to each other. That was the first blessing, and it filled him with great peace and joy, but not perfect peace and joy. Now, there were many blessings following that before the great second blessing came. Every letter he received, every tender look, every pressure of the hand, every tone of her voice, every fresh assurance of enduring and increasing affection was a blessing; but it was not the second blessing. But one day, after patient waiting, which might have been shortened by mutual consent, if they had thought it wise, and after full preparation, they came together in the presence of friends and before a man of God, and in the most solemn and irrevocable manner gave themselves to each other to become one, and were pronounced man and wife. That was the second blessing, an epochal experience, unlike anything which preceded, or anything to follow. And now their peace and joy and rest were full. There had to be the first and second blessings in this relationship of man and wife, but there is no third. And yet in the sense of those who say they have received fifty blessings from the Lord, there have been countless blessings in their wedded life; indeed, it has been a river of blessing, broadening and deepening in gladness and joy and sweet affections and fellowship with the increasing years. But let us not confuse thought by disputing over terms and wrangling about words. The first blessing in Jesus Christ is salvation, with its negative side of remission of sins and forgiveness, and its positive side of renewal or regeneration--the new birth--one experience. And the second blessing is entire sanctification, with its negative side of cleansing, and its positive side of filling with the Holy Ghost--one whole, rounded, glorious, epochal experience. And while there may be many refreshings, girdings, illuminations, and secret tokens and assurances of love and favour, there is no third blessing in this large sense, in this present time. But when time is no more, when the ever-lasting doors have lifted up, and the King of Glory comes in with His Bride, and, for ever redeemed and crowned, He makes us to sit down with Him on His throne, then in eternity we shall have the third blessing--we shall be glorified. "HAVE YE RECEIVED THE HOLY GHOST SINCE YE BELIEVED?" IV. THE WITNESS OF THE SPIRIT. "Ye shall receive power after that the Holy Ghost is come upon you." How shall I know that I am accepted of God?--that I am saved or sanctified? The Bible declares God's love and pity for sinners, including me, and reveals His offer of mercy to me in Jesus Christ, on condition that I fully repent of my sins, and yielding myself to Him, believe on Jesus Christ, and taking up my cross, follow Him. But how shall I know that I have met these conditions in a way to satisfy Him, and that I am myself saved? 1. The Bible cannot tell me this. It tells me what to do, but it does not tell me when I have done it, any more than the sign-board at the country cross-roads, pointing out the road leading to the city, tells me when I have got to the city. 2. My religious teachers and friends cannot tell me, for they cannot read my heart, nor the mind of God toward me. How can they know when I have in my heart repented and believed, and when His righteous anger is turned away? They can encourage me to repent, believe, obey, and can assure me that, if I do, He will accept me, and I shall be saved; but beyond that they cannot go. 3. My own heart, owing to its darkness and deceitfulness and liability to error, is not a safe witness previous to the assurance God Himself gives. If my neighbour is justly offended with me, it is not my own heart, but his testimony that first assures me of his favour once more. How, then, shall I know that I am justified or wholly sanctified? There is but one way, and that is by the witness of the Holy Spirit. God must notify me, and make me to know it; and this He does, when, despairing of my own works of righteousness, I cast my poor soul fully and in faith upon Jesus. "For ye have not received the spirit of bondage again to fear," says Paul, "but ye have received the spirit of adoption, whereby we cry, Abba, Father. The Spirit itself beareth witness with our spirit, that we are the children of God" (Romans viii. 15, 16). "And because ye are sons, God hath sent forth the Spirit of His Son into your hearts, crying, Abba, Father" (Gal. iv. 6). Unless He Himself assures me, I shall never know that He accepts me, but must continue in uncertainty all my days. "Come, Holy Ghost, Thyself impress On my expanding heart: And show that in the Father's grace I share a filial part." The General says: "Assurance is produced by the revelation of forgiveness and acceptance made by God Himself directly to the soul. This is the witness of the Spirit. It is God testifying in my soul that He has loved me, and given Himself for me, and washed me from my sins in His own blood. Nothing short of this _actual revelation_, made by God Himself, can make anyone sure of salvation." John Wesley says: "By the testimony of the Spirit, I mean an inward impression of the soul, whereby the Spirit of God immediately and directly witnesses to my spirit that I am a child of God; that 'Jesus hath loved me, and given Himself for me'; that all my sins are blotted out, and I, even I, am reconciled to God." This witness of the Spirit addressed to my consciousness enables me to sing with joyful assurance:-- "My God is reconciled; His pardoning voice I hear: He owns me for His child; I can no longer fear: With confidence I now draw nigh, And, 'Father, Abba, Father,' cry." When the Holy Spirit witnesses to me that I am saved and adopted into God's family as His child, then other evidences begin to abound also. For instance:-- 1. My own spirit witnesses that I am a new creature. I know that old things have passed away, and all things have become new. My very thoughts and desires have been changed. Love and joy and peace reign within me. My heart no longer condemns me. Pride and selfishness, and lust and temper, no longer control my thoughts nor lead captive my will. I am a new creature, and I know it, and I infer without doubt that this is the work of God in me. 2. My conscience bears witness that I am honest and true in all my purposes and intentions; that I am without guile; that my eye is single to the glory of God, and that with all simplicity and sincerity of heart I serve Him; and, since by nature I am only sinful, I again infer that this sincerity of heart is His blessed work in my soul, and is a fruit of salvation. 3. The Bible becomes a witness to my salvation. In it are accurately portrayed the true characteristics of the children of God; and as I study it prayerfully, and find these characteristics in my heart and life, I again infer that I am saved. This is true self-examination, and is most useful. These evidences are most important to guard us against any mistake as to the witness of the Holy Spirit. The witness of the Spirit is not likely to be mistaken for something else, just as the sun is not likely to be mistaken for a lesser light, a glow-worm or a moon. But one who has not seen the sun might mistake some lesser light for the sun. So an unsaved man may mistake some flash of fancy, some pleasant emotion, for the witness of the Spirit. But if he is honest, the absence of these secondary evidences and witnesses will correct him. He must know that so long as sin masters him, reigns within him, and he is devoid of the tempers, graces, and dispositions of God's people, as portrayed in the Bible, that he is mistaken in supposing that he has the witness of the Spirit. The Holy Spirit cannot witness to what does not exist. He cannot lie. Not until sin is forgiven does He witness to the fact. Not until we are justified from our old sins and born again does He witness that we are children of God; and when He does so witness, these secondary evidences always follow. Charles Wesley expresses this in one of his matchless hymns:-- "How can a sinner know His sins on earth forgiven? How can my gracious Saviour show My name inscribed in Heaven? "We who in Christ believe That He for us hath died, We all His unknown peace receive, And feel His blood applied. "His love, surpassing far The love of all beneath, We find within our hearts, and dare The pointless darts of death. "Stronger than death and hell The mystic power we prove; And conquerors of the world, we dwell In Heaven, who dwell in love." The witness of the Spirit is far more comprehensive than many suppose. Multitudes do not believe that there is any such thing, while others confine it to the forgiveness of sins and adoption into the family of God. But the truth is that the Holy Spirit witnesses to much more than this. He witnesses to the sinner that he is guilty, condemned before God, and lost. This we call conviction; but it is none other than the witness of the Spirit to the sinner's true condition; and when a man realises it, nothing can convince him to the contrary. His friends may point out his good works, his kindly disposition, and try to assure him that he is not a bad man; but, so long as the Spirit continues to witness to his guilt, nothing can console him or reassure his quaking heart. This convicting witness may come to a sinner at any time, but it is usually given under the searching preaching of the Gospel, or the burning testimony of those who have been gloriously saved and sanctified; or in time of danger, when the soul is awed into silence, so that it can hear the "still small voice" of the Holy Spirit. Again, the Holy Spirit not only witnesses to the forgiveness of sins and acceptance with God, but He also witnesses to sanctification. "For by one offering," says the Apostle, "He" (that is, Jesus) "hath perfected for ever them that are sanctified. Whereof the Holy Ghost also is a witness to us" (Hebrews x. 14, 15). Indeed, one who has this witness can no more doubt it than a man with two good eyes can doubt the existence of the sun when he steps forth into the splendour of a cloudless noon-day. It satisfies him, and he cries out exultingly, "We know, we know!" Hallelujah! Paul seems to teach that the Holy Spirit witnesses to every good thing God works in us, for he says: "We have received, not the spirit of the world, but the Spirit which is of God; that we might know the things that are freely given to us of God" (1 Cor. ii. 12). It is for our comfort and encouragement to know our acceptance of God and our rights, privileges, and possessions in Jesus Christ, and the Holy Spirit is given for this purpose, that we may _know_. But it is important to bear in mind God's plan of work in this matter. 1. The witness of the Spirit is dependent upon our faith. God does not give it to those who do not believe in Jesus; and if our faith wavers, the witness will become intermittent; and if faith fails, it will be withdrawn. Owing to the unsteadiness of their faith, many young converts get into uncertainty. Happy are they at such times if some one is at hand to instruct and encourage them to look steadfastly to Jesus. But, alas! many old Christians through unsteady faith walk in gloom and uncertainty, and, instead of encouraging the young, they discourage them. Steadfast faith will keep the inward witness bright. 2. We must not get our attention off Jesus, and the promises of God in Him, and fix it upon the witness of the Spirit. The witness continues only while we look unto Jesus, and trust and obey Him. When we take our eyes off Him, the witness is gone. Many people fail here. Instead of quietly and confidently looking unto Jesus, and trusting Him, they are vainly looking for the witness; which is as though a man should try to realise the sweetness of honey, without receiving it in his mouth; or the beauty of a picture, while having his eyes turned inward upon himself instead of outward upon the picture. Jesus saves. Look to Him, and He will send the Spirit to witness to His work. 3. The witness may be brightened by diligence in the discharge of duty, by frequent seasons of glad prayer, by definite testimony to salvation and sanctification, and by stirring up our faith. 4. The witness may be dulled by neglect of duty, by sloth in prayer, by inattention to the Bible, by indefinite, hesitating testimony, and by carelessness, when we should be careful to walk soberly and steadfastly with the Lord. 5. I dare not say that the witness of the Spirit is dependent upon our health, but there are some forms of nervous and organic disease that seem to so distract or becloud the mind as to interfere with the clear discernment of the witness of the Spirit. I knew a nervous little child who would be so distracted with fear by an approaching carriage, when being carried across the street in her father's arms, that she seemed to be incapable of hearing or heeding his reassuring voice. It may be that there are some diseases that for the time prevent the sufferer from discerning the reassuring witness of the Heavenly Father. Dr. Asa Mahan told me of an experience of this kind which he had in a very dangerous sickness. And Dr. Daniel Steele had a similar experience while lying at the point of death with typhoid fever. But some of the happiest Christians the world has seen have been racked with pain and tortured with disease. And so there may be seasons of fierce temptation when the witness is not clearly discerned; but we may rest assured that if our hearts cleave to Jesus Christ and duty, He will never leave or forsake us. Blessed be God! 6. But the witness will be lost if we wilfully sin, or persistently neglect to follow where He leads. This witness is a pearl of great price, and Satan will try to steal it from us; therefore, we must guard it with watchful prayer continually. 7. If lost, it may be found again by prayer and faith and a dutiful taking up of the cross which has been laid down. Thousands who have lost it have found it again, and often they have found it with increased brightness and glory. If you have lost it, my brother, look up in faith to your loving God, and He will restore it to you. It is possible to live on the right side of plain duty without the witness, but you cannot be sure of your salvation, joyful in service, or glad in God, without it; and since it is promised to all God's children, no one who professes to be His should be without it. If you have it not, my brother or sister, seek it now by faith in Jesus. Go to Him, and do not let Him go till He notifies you that you are His. Listen to Charles Wesley:-- "From the world of sin, and noise, And hurry, I withdraw; For the small and inward voice I wait with humble awe; Silent am I now and still, Dare not in Thy presence move; To my waiting soul reveal The secret of Thy love." Do you want the witness to abide? Then study the word of God, and live by it; sing and make melody in your heart to the Lord; praise the Lord with your first waking breath in the morning, and thank Him with your last waking breath at night; flee from sin; keep on believing; look to Jesus, cleave to Him, follow Him gladly, trust the efficacy of His blood, and the witness will abide in your heart. Be patient with the Lord. Let Him mould you, and "He will save, He will rejoice over thee with joy; He will rest in His love, He will joy over thee with singing" (Zeph. iii. 17); and you shall no longer doubt, but know that you are His. Hallelujah! "There are in this loud stunning tide Of human care and crime, With whom the melodies abide Of th' everlasting chime; Who carry music in their heart Through dusky lane and wrangling mart, Plying their task with busier feet Because their secret souls a holy strain repeat." And that "holy strain" is but the echo of the Lord's song in their heart, which is the witness of the Spirit. "HAVE YE RECEIVED THE HOLY GHOST SINCE YE BELIEVED?" V. PURITY. "Ye shall receive power after that the Holy Ghost is come upon you." A MINISTER of the Gospel, after listening to an eminent servant of God preaching on entire sanctification through the baptism with the Spirit, wrote to him, saying: "I like your teaching on the baptism with the Holy Ghost. I need it, and am seeking it; but I do not care much for entire sanctification or heart-cleansing. Pray for me that I may be filled with the Holy Ghost." The brother knew him well, and immediately replied: "I am so glad you believe in the baptism with the Holy Ghost, and are so earnestly seeking it. I join my prayer with yours that you may receive that gift. But let me say to you, that if you get the gift of the Holy Ghost, you will have to take entire sanctification with it, for the first thing the baptism with the Holy Ghost does is to cleanse the heart from all sin." Thank God, he humbled himself, permitted the Lord to sanctify him, and he was filled with the Holy Spirit, and mightily empowered to work for God. Many have looked at the promise of power when the Holy Ghost is come, the energy of Peter's preaching on the day of Pentecost, and the marvellous results which followed, and they have hastily and erroneously jumped to the conclusion that the baptism with the Holy Ghost is for work and service only. It does bring power--the power of God, and it does fit for service, probably the most important service to which any created beings are commissioned, the proclamation of salvation and the conditions of peace to a lost world; but not that alone, nor primarily. The primary, the basal work of the baptism, is that of cleansing. You may turn a flood into your millrace, but until it sweeps away the logs and brushwood and dirt that obstruct the course, you cannot get power to turn the wheels of your mill. The flood first washes out the obstructions, and then you have power. The great hindrance in the hearts of God's children to the power of the Holy Ghost is inbred sin--that dark, defiant, evil something within that struggles for the mastery of the soul, and will not submit to be meek and lowly, and patient and forbearing and holy, as was Jesus; and when the Holy Spirit comes, His first work is to sweep away that something, that carnal principle, and make free and clean all the channels of the soul. Peter was filled with power on the day of Pentecost; but evidently the purifying effect of the baptism made a deeper and more lasting impression upon his mind than the empowering effect; for years after, in that first Council in Jerusalem, recorded in the fifteenth chapter of Acts, he stood up and told about the spiritual baptism of Cornelius, the Roman centurion, and his household, and he said: "And God, which knoweth the hearts, bare them witness, giving them the Holy Ghost, even as He did unto us; and put no difference between us and them, purifying their hearts by faith." Here he calls attention not to power, but to purity, as the effect of the baptism. When the Holy Ghost comes in to abide, "the old man" goes out. Praise the Lord! This destruction of inbred sin is made perfectly plain in that wonderful Old Testament type of the baptism with the Holy Ghost and fire recorded in the sixth chapter of Isaiah. The prophet was a most earnest preacher of righteousness (see Isaiah i. 10-20), yet he was not sanctified wholly. But he had a vision of the Lord upon His Throne, and the seraphims crying one to another: "Holy, holy, holy is the Lord of Hosts: the whole earth is full of His glory." And the very "posts of the door moved at the voice of him that cried"; and how much more should the heart of the prophet be moved! And so it was; and he cried out: "Woe is me! for I am undone; because I am a man of unclean lips, and I dwell in the midst of a people of unclean lips: for mine eyes have seen the King, the Lord of Hosts." When unsanctified men have a vision of God, it is not their lack of power, but their lack of purity, their unlikeness to Christ, the Holy One, that troubles them. And so it was with the prophet. But he adds: "Then flew one of the seraphims unto me, having a live coal in his hand, which he had taken with the tongs from off the altar. And he laid it upon my mouth, and said, Lo, this hath touched thy lips; and thine iniquity is taken away, and thy sin purged." Here again, it is purity rather than power to which our attention is directed. Again, in the thirty-sixth chapter of Ezekiel, we have another type of this spiritual baptism. In Isaiah the type was that of fire, but here it is that of water; for water and oil, and the wind and rain and dew, are all used as types of the Holy Spirit. The Lord says, through Ezekiel: "Then will I sprinkle clean water upon you, and ye shall be clean; from all your filthiness, and from all your idols, will I cleanse you. A new heart also will I give you, and a new spirit will I put within you: and I will take away the stony heart out of your flesh, and I will give you an heart of flesh. And I will put My Spirit within you, and cause you to walk in My statutes, and ye shall keep My judgments, and do them." Here again, the incoming of the Holy Spirit means the outgoing of all sin, of "all your filthiness, and of all your idols." How plainly it is taught! And yet, many of God's dear children do not believe it is their privilege to be free from sin and pure in heart in this life. But, may we not? Let us consider this. 1. It is certainly _desirable_. Every sincere Christian--and none can be a Christian who is not sincere--wants to be free from sin, to be pure in heart, to be like Christ. Sin is hateful to every true child of God. The Spirit within him cries out against the sin, the wrong temper, the pride, the lust, the selfishness, the evil that lurks within the heart. Surely, it is desirable to be free from sin. "He wills that I should holy be: That holiness I long to feel; That full Divine conformity To all my Saviour's righteous will." 2. It is _necessary_, for "without holiness no man shall see the Lord." Sometime, somehow, somewhere, sin must go out of our hearts--all sin--or we cannot go into Heaven. Sin would spoil Heaven just as it spoils earth; just as it spoils the peace of hearts and homes, of families and neighbourhoods and nations here. Why God in His wisdom allows sin in the world, I do not know, I cannot understand. But this I understand: that He has one world into which He will not let sin enter. He has notified us in advance that no sin, nothing that defiles, can enter Heaven, can mar the blessedness of that holy place. "Who shall ascend into the hill of the Lord? or who shall stand in His holy place? He that hath clean hands, and a pure heart; who hath not lifted up his soul unto vanity, nor sworn deceitfully" We must get rid of sin to get into Heaven, to enjoy the full favour of God. It is necessary. "Choose I must, and soon must choose Holiness, or Heaven lose. If what Heaven loves I hate, Shut for me is Heaven's gate! "Endless sin means endless woe; Into endless sin I go If my soul, from reason rent, Takes from sin its final bent. "As the stream its channel grooves, And within that channel moves; So does habit's deepest tide Groove its bed and there abide. "Light obeyed increaseth light; Light resisted bringeth night; Who shall give me will to choose If the love of light I lose? "Speed, my soul, this instant yield; Let the light its sceptre wield. While thy God prolongs His grace, Haste thee to His holy face." 3. This purification from sin is _promised_. Nothing can be plainer than the promise of God on this point. "Then will I sprinkle clean water upon you, and ye shall be clean; from _all_ your filthiness and from _all_ your idols will I cleanse you." When all is removed, nothing remains. When all filthiness and all idols are taken away, none are left. "But where sin abounded, grace did much more abound; that as sin hath reigned unto death, even so might grace reign through righteousness unto eternal life by Jesus Christ our Lord" (Romans v. 20, 21). Grace reigns, not through sin, but "through righteousness" which has expelled sin. Grace brings in righteousness and sin goes out. "If we walk in the light, as He is in the light, we have fellowship one with another, and the blood of Jesus Christ His Son cleanseth us from all sin" (1 John i. 7). Hallelujah! "Being then made free from sin, ye became the servants of righteousness" (Romans vi. 18). These are sample promises and assurances any one of which is sufficient to encourage us to believe that our Heavenly Father will save us from all sin, if we meet His conditions. 4. And that deliverance is _possible_. It was for this that Jesus Christ, the Father's Son, came into the world, and suffered and died, that He might "save His people from their sins" (Matthew i. 21). It was for this that He shed His precious blood: to "cleanse us from all sin." It was for this that the word of God, with its wonderful promises, was given: "That by these ye might be partakers of the Divine nature, having escaped the corruption that is in the world through lust" (2 Peter i. 4); by which is meant, escape from inbred sin. It was for this that ministers of the Gospel--Salvation Army Officers--are given, "for the perfecting of the saints" (Eph. iv. 12), for the saving and sanctifying of men (Acts xxvi. 18). It is primarily for this that the Holy Ghost comes as a baptism of fire: that sin might be consumed out of us, so that we might be "made meet for the inheritance of the saints in light"; that so we might be ready without a moment's warning to go into the midst of the heavenly hosts in white garments, "washed in the blood of the Lamb." Glory be to God for ever and ever! And shall all these mighty agents and this heavenly provision, and these gracious purposes of God, fail to destroy sin out of any obedient, believing heart? Is sin omnipotent? No! If you, my brother, my sister, will look unto Jesus just now, trusting the merits of His blood, and receive the Holy Spirit into your heart, you shall be "made free from sin"; it "shall not have dominion over you." Hallelujah! Under the fiery touch of His holy presence, your iniquity shall be taken away, and your sin shall be purged. And you yourself shall burn as did the bush on the mount of God which Moses saw; yet you, like the bush, shall not be consumed; and by this holy fire, this flame of love, that consumes sin, you shall be made proof against that unquenchable fire that consumes sinners. "Come, Holy Ghost, Thy mighty aid bestowing; Destroy the works of sin, the self, the pride; Burn, burn in me, my idols overthrowing: Prepare my heart for Him, for my Lord crucified." "HAVE YE RECEIVED THE HOLY GHOST SINCE YE BELIEVED?" VI. POWER. "Ye shall receive power after that the Holy Ghost is come upon you." JUST before His ascension, Jesus met His disciples for the last time, and repeated His command that they should "not depart from Jerusalem, but wait for the promise of the Father," and reiterated His promise that they should be "baptised with the Holy Ghost not many days hence." Then "they asked of Him, saying, Lord, wilt Thou at this time restore again the kingdom to Israel?" They were still eager for an earthly kingdom. But "He said unto them, It is not for you to know the time or the seasons, which the Father hath put in His own power," or authority. And then He added, "But ye shall receive power after that the Holy Ghost is come upon you." They wanted power, and He assured them that they should have it, but said nothing of its nature, or the work and activities into which it would thrust them, and for which it would equip them, beyond the fact that they should be witnesses unto Him "in Jerusalem and Samaria, and unto the uttermost parts of the earth." After that the Holy Ghost Himself was henceforth to be their Teacher. And then Jesus left them. Earth lost its power to hold Him, and while they beheld Him He began to ascend; a cloud bent low from Heaven, receiving Him out of sight, and they were left alone, with His promise of power ringing in their ears, and His command to "wait for the promise of the Father" checking any impatience that might lead them to "go a-fishing," as Peter had done some days before, or cause an undue haste to begin their life-work of witnessing for Him before God's appointed time. For ten days they waited, not listlessly, but eagerly, as a maid for her mistress, or a servant for his master, who is expected to come at any moment; they forgot their personal ambitions; they ceased to judge and criticise one another, and in the sweet unity of brotherly love, "with one accord" they rejoiced, they prayed, they waited; and then on the day of Pentecost, at their early morning prayer meeting, when they were all present, the windows of Heaven were opened, and such a blessing as they could not contain was poured out upon them. "And suddenly there came a sound from Heaven as of a rushing mighty wind, and it filled all the house where they were sitting. And there appeared unto them cloven tongues like as of fire, and it sat upon each of them. And they were all filled with the Holy Ghost." This was the inaugural day of the Church of God: the dawn of the dispensation of the Holy Spirit; the beginning of the days of power. In the morning of that day there were only a few Christians in the world; the New Testament was not written, and it is doubtful if they had among them all a copy of the Old Testament; they had no church buildings, no colleges, no religious books and papers; they were poor and despised, unlearned and ignorant; but before night they had enrolled three thousand converts from among those who, a few weeks before, had crucified their Lord, and they had aroused and filled all Jerusalem with questionings and amazement. What was the secret? Power. What was the secret? God the Holy Ghost. He had come, and this work was His work, and they were His instruments. When Jesus came, a body was prepared for Him (Hebrews x. 5), and through that body He wrought His wondrous works; but when the other Comforter comes, He takes possession of those bodies that are freely and fully presented to Him, and He touches their lips with grace; He shines peacefully and gloriously on their faces; He flashes beams of pity and compassion and heavenly affection from their eyes; He kindles a fire of love in their hearts, and lights the flame of truth in their minds. They become His temple, and their hearts are a holy of holies in which His blessed presence ever abides, and from that central citadel He works, enduing the man who has received Him with power. If you ask how the Holy Spirit can dwell within us and work through us without destroying our personality, I cannot tell. How can the electric fluid fill and transform a dead wire into a live one, which you dare not touch? How can a magnetic current fill a piece of steel, and transform it into a mighty force which by its touch can raise tons of iron, as a child would lift a feather? How can fire dwell in a piece of iron until its very appearance is that of fire, and it becomes a fire-brand? I cannot tell. Now, what fire and electricity and magnetism do in iron and steel, the Holy Spirit does in the spirits of men who believe on Jesus, follow Him wholly, and trust Him intelligently. He dwells in them, and inspires them, till they are all alive with the very life of God. The transformation wrought in men by the baptism with the Holy Ghost, and the power that fills them, are amazing beyond measure. The Holy Spirit gives-- 1. _Power over the world_. They become "Dead to the world and all its toys, Its idle pomps and fading joys." The world masters and enslaves people who have not the Holy Spirit. To one man it offers money, and he falls down and worships; sells his conscience and character for gold. To another it offers power, and he falls down and worships and sacrifices his principles and sears his conscience for power. To another it offers pleasure; to another learning; to another fame, and they fall down and worship, and sell themselves for these things. But the man filled with the Holy Ghost is free. He can turn from these things without a pang, as he would from pebbles; or, he can take them and use them as his servants for the glory of God and the good of men. What did Peter and James and John care for the great places in the kingdoms of this world after they were filled with the Holy Ghost? They would not have exchanged places with Herod the king or with Caesar himself. For the gratification of any personal ambition these things were no more attractive to them now than the lordship over a tribe of ants on their tiny hill. They were now kings and priests unto God, and theirs was an everlasting kingdom, and its glory exceeds the glory of the kingdoms of this world as the splendour of the sun exceeds that of the glow-worm. The head of some great business enterprises was making many thousands of dollars every year; but when the Holy Spirit filled him money lost its power over him. He still retained his position, and made vast sums; but, as a steward of the Lord, he poured it into God's work, and has been doing so for more than thirty years. The disciples in Jerusalem after Pentecost held all their possessions in common, so completely were they freed from the power and love of money. A rising young lawyer got filled with the Spirit, and the next day said to his client: "I cannot plead your case. I have a retainer from the Lord Jesus"; and he became one of the mightiest preachers the world has ever seen. A popular lad got the fiery baptism, and went to his baseball team, and said: "Boys, you swear, and I am now a Christian, and I cannot play with you any more"; and God made him the wonder of all his old friends, and a happy winner of souls. A fashionable woman got the baptism, and God gave her power to break away from her worldly set and surroundings, live wholly for Him, and gave her an influence that girdled the globe. Paul said: "The world is crucified unto me, and I unto the world." Men could whip, and stone, and imprison his body, and cut off his head, but his soul was free. It was enslaved and driven by no unholy or inordinate ambition, by no lust for gold, by no desire for power or fame, by no fear of man, by no shame of worldly censure or adverse public opinion. He had power over the world, and this same power is the birthright of every converted man, and the present possession of every one who is wholly sanctified by the baptism with the Holy Ghost. 2. _Power over the flesh_. The body which God intended for a "house beautiful" for the soul, and a temple holy unto Himself, is often reduced to a sty, where the imprisoned soul wallows in lusts and passions, and degrades itself below the level of beasts. But this baptism gives a man power over his body. God has given to man such desires and passions as are necessary to secure his continued existence, and not one is in itself evil, but good and only good; and when controlled and used, but not abused, will help to develop and maintain the purest and highest manhood. The appetites for food and drink are necessary to life. Another desire is intended to secure the continuance of the human race. And so all the desires and appetites of the body have useful ends, and were given to us in love by our Heavenly Father for high and essential purposes, and are necessary to us as human beings. But the soul, cut off from fellowship with God, by sin, seeks satisfaction in sensual excesses, and the unlawful gratification of these appetites, and so sinks to depths of degradation to which no beast ever falls. Thus man becomes a slave; swollen and raging passion takes the place of innocent appetites and desires. Now, when the Holy Spirit enters the heart and sanctifies the soul, He does not destroy these desires, but He purifies and regulates them. He reinforces the soul with the fear and love of God, and gives it power, complete power, over the fleshly appetites. He restores it to its full fellowship with God and its kingship over the body. But while these appetites and desires are not in themselves sinful, but are necessary for our welfare and our complete manhood, and while their diseased and abnormal power is cured when we are sanctified, they are still avenues through which we may be tempted. Therefore, they must be guarded with care and ruled in wisdom. Many people stumble at and reject the doctrine of entire sanctification, because they do not understand these things. They mistake that which is natural and essential to a human being for the diseased and abnormal propensity caused by sin, and so miss the blessed truth of full salvation. I knew a doctor, who had used tobacco for over sixty years, delivered from the abnormal appetite instantly through sanctification of the Spirit. I knew an old man, who had been a drunkard for over fifty years, similarly delivered. I knew a young man, the slave of a vicious habit of the flesh, who was set free at once by the fiery baptism. The electric current cannot transform the dead wire into a live one quicker than the Holy Spirit can flood a soul with light and love, destroy the carnal mind, and fill a man with power over all sin. 3. _Power over the Devil_. The indwelling presence of the Holy Spirit destroys all doubt as to the personality of the Devil. He is discerned, and his malice is felt and known as never before. In the dark a man may be so skilfully attacked that his enemy is not discovered, but not in the day. Many people in these days deny that there is any Devil, only evil; but they are in the dark, so much in the dark that they not only say that there is no Devil, but that there is no personal God, only good. But the day comes with the Holy Spirit's entrance, and then God is intimately known and the Devil is discovered. And as he assailed Jesus after His baptism with the Spirit, so he does to-day all who receive the Holy Ghost. He comes as an angel of light to deceive, and as a roaring lion to devour and overcome with fear; but the soul filled with the Spirit outwits the Devil, and, clad in the whole armour of God, overcomes the old enemy. "Power over all the power of the enemy" is God's purpose for all His children. Power to do the will of God patiently and effectively, with naturalness and ease, or to suffer the will of God with patience and good cheer, comes with this blessed baptism. It is power for service or sacrifice, according to God's will. Have you this power? If not, it is for you. Yield yourself fully to Christ just now, and if you ask in faith you shall receive. "HAVE YE RECEIVED THE HOLY GHOST SINCE YE BELIEVED?" VII. TRYING THE SPIRITS. "Ye shall receive power after that the Holy Ghost is come upon you." Those who have not the Holy Spirit, or who do not heed Him, fall easily and naturally into formalism, substituting lifeless ceremonies, sacraments, genuflections, and ritualistic performances for the free, glad, living worship inspired by the indwelling Spirit. They sing, but not from the heart. They say their prayers, but they do not really pray. "I prayed last night, mother," said a child. "Why, my child, you pray every night!" replied the mother. "No," said the child, "I only said prayers, but last night I really prayed." And his face shone. He had opened his heart to the Holy Spirit, and had at last really talked with God and worshipped. But those who receive the Holy Spirit may fall into fanaticism, unless they follow the command of John to "try the spirits, whether they are of God." We are commanded to "despise not prophesyings," but at the same time we are commanded to "prove all things." "Many false prophets are gone out into the world," and, if possible, will lead us astray. So we must beware. As some one has written, we must "Believe not every spirit; regard not, trust not, follow not, every pretender to the Spirit of God, or every professor of vision, or inspiration, or revelation from God." The higher and more intense the life, the more carefully must it be guarded, lest it be endangered and go astray. It is so in the natural world, and likewise in the spiritual world. When Satan can no longer rock people to sleep with religious lullabys, or satisfy them with the lifeless form, then he comes as an angel of light, probably in the person of some professor or teacher of religion, and seeks to usurp the place of the Holy Spirit; but instead of leading "into all truth," he leads the unwary soul into deadly error; instead of directing him on to the highway of holiness, and into the path of perfect peace, where no ravenous beast ever comes, he leads him into a wilderness where the soul, stripped of its beautiful garments of salvation, is robbed and wounded and left to die, if some good Samaritan, with patient pity and Christlike love, come not that way. 1. When the Holy Spirit comes in His fullness, He strips men of their self-righteousness and pride and conceit. They see themselves as the chief of sinners, and realise that only through the stripes of Jesus are they healed; and ever after, as they live in the Spirit, their boast is in Him and their glory is in the cross. Remembering the hole of the pit from which they were digged, they are filled with tender pity for all who are out of the way; and, while they do not excuse or belittle sin, yet they are slow to believe evil, and their judgments are full of charity. "Judge not; the workings of his brain And of his heart thou canst not see: What looks to thy dim eyes a stain, In God's pure light may only be A scar, brought from some well-won field, Where thou wouldst only faint and yield." But the man who has been thus snared by Satan forgets his own past miserable state, and boasts of his righteousness, and thanks God that he was never as other men, and he begins to beat his fellow-servants with heavy denunciations, and thrust them through with sharp criticisms, and pelt them with hard words. He ceases to pity, and begins to condemn; he no longer warns and entreats men in tender love, but is quick to believe evil, and swift to pass judgment, not only upon their actions, but upon their motives as well. True charity has no fellowship with deeds of darkness. It never calls evil good, it does not wink at iniquity, but it is as far removed from this sharp, condemning spirit as light is from darkness, as honey is from vinegar. It is quick to condemn sin, but is full of saving, long-suffering compassion for the sinner. 2. A humble, teachable mind marks those in whom the Holy Spirit dwells. They esteem very highly in love those who are over them in the Lord, and are glad to be admonished by them. They submit themselves one to the other in the fear of the Lord, welcome instruction and correction, and esteem "open rebuke better than secret love" (Proverbs xxvii. 5). They believe that the Lord has yet many things to say unto them, and they are willing and glad for Him to say them by whom He will, but especially by their leaders and their brethren. While they do not fawn and cringe before men, nor believe everything that is said to them, without proving it by the word and Spirit of God, they believe that God "gave some, apostles; and some, prophets; and some, evangelists; and some, pastors and teachers; for the perfecting of the saints, for the work of the ministry, for the edifying of the body of Christ"; and, like Cornelius, they are ready to hear these appointed ministers, and receive the word of the Lord from them. But Satan seeks to destroy all this lowliness of spirit and humbleness of mind. Those in whom his deadly work has begun are "wiser in their own conceit than seven men that can render a reason." They are wiser than all their teachers, and no man can instruct them. One of these deluded souls, who had previously been marked by modesty and humility, declared of certain of God's chosen leaders whose spiritual knowledge and wisdom were everywhere recognised, that "the whole of them knew no more about the Holy Ghost than an old goose." Paul, Luther, and Wesley were much troubled, and their work greatly hurt, by some of these misguided souls, and every great spiritual awakening is likely to be marred more or less by such people; so that we cannot be too much on our guard against false spirits who would counterfeit the work and leadings of the Holy Spirit. It is this huge conceit that has led some men to announce themselves as apostles and prophets to whom all men must listen, or fall under the wrath of God; while others have declared that they were living in resurrection bodies and should not die; and yet others have reached that pitch of fanaticism where they could calmly proclaim themselves to be the Messiah, or the Holy Ghost in bodily form. Such people will be quick to deny the infallibility of the Pope, while they assume their own infallibility, and denounce all who dispute it. The Holy Spirit may lead to a holy rivalry in love and humility and brotherly kindness and self-denial and good works, but He never leads men into the swelling conceit of such exclusive knowledge and superior wisdom that they can no longer be taught by their fellow-men. 3. Again, the man who is filled with the Spirit is tolerant of those who differ from him in opinion, in doctrine. He is firm in his own convictions, and ready at all times with meekness and fear to explain and defend the doctrines which he holds and is convinced are according to God's word, but he does not condemn and consign to damnation all those who differ from him. He is glad to believe that men are often better than their creed, and may be saved in spite of it; that, like mountains whose bases are bathed with sunshine and clothed with fruitful fields and vineyards, while their tops are covered with dark clouds, so men's hearts are often fruitful in the graces of charity, while their heads are yet darkened by doctrinal error. Anyway, as "the servant of the Lord," he will "not strive; but be gentle unto all men, apt to teach, patient, in meekness instructing those that oppose themselves; if God peradventure will give them repentance to the acknowledging of the truth; and that they may recover themselves out of the snare of the Devil" (2 Timothy ii. 24-26). But when Satan comes as an angel of light he will, under guise of love for and loyalty to the truth, introduce the spirit of intolerance. It was this spirit that crucified Jesus; that burned Huss and Cranmer at the stake; that strangled Savonarola; that inspired the massacre of St. Bartholomew and the horrors of the Inquisition; and it is the same spirit, in a milder but possibly more subtle form, that blinds the eyes of many professing Christians to any good in those who differ from them in doctrine, forms of worship or methods of government. They murder love to protect what they often blindly call truth. What is truth without love? A dead thing, an encumbrance, the letter that killeth! The body is necessary to our life in this world, but life can exist in a deformed and even mutilated body; and such a body with life in it is better than the most perfect body that is only a corpse. So, while truth is most precious, and sound doctrine to be esteemed more than silver and gold, yet love can exist where truth is not held in its most perfect and complete forms, and love is the one thing needful. "The love of God is broader Than the measure of man's mind: And the heart of the Eternal Is most wonderfully kind." 4. The Holy Ghost begets a spirit of unity among Christians. People who have been sitting behind their sectarian fences in self-complacent ease, or proud indifference, or proselytising zeal, or grim defiance, are suddenly lifted above the fence, and find sweet fellowship with each other, when He comes into their hearts. They delight in each other's society; they each esteem others better than themselves, and in honour they prefer one another before themselves. They fulfil the Psalmist's ideal: "Behold, how good and how pleasant it is for brethren to dwell together in unity." Here is a picture of the unity of Christians in the beginning in Jerusalem: "And they were all filled with the Holy Ghost, and they spake the word of God with boldness. And the multitude of them that believed were of one heart and of one soul; neither said any of them that aught of the things which he possessed was his own; but they had all things common." What an ideal is this! And since it has been attained once, it can be attained again and retained, but only by the indwelling of the Holy Ghost. It was for this that Jesus poured out His heart in His great intercessory prayer, recorded in John xvii., just before His arrest in the Garden of Gethsemane. He says, "I pray for them.... Neither pray I for these alone, but for them also which shall believe on Me through their word; that they all may be one." And what was the standard of unity to which He would have us come? Listen! "As Thou, Father, art in Me, and I in Thee; that they also may be one in Us; that the world may believe that Thou hast sent Me." Such unity has a wondrous power to compel the belief of worldly men. "And the glory which Thou gavest Me I have given them; that they may be one, even as We are one; I in them, and Thou in Me, that they may be perfect in one; and that the world may _know_ that Thou hast sent Me, and hast loved them, as Thou hast loved Me." Wondrous unity! Wondrous love! It is for this His blessed heart eternally yearns, and it is for this that the Holy Spirit works in the hearts of those who receive Him. But Satan ever seeks to destroy this holy love and divine unity. When he comes, he arouses suspicions, he stirs up strife, he quenches the spirit of intercessory prayer, he engenders backbitings, and causes separations. After enumerating various Christian graces, and urging the Colossians to put them on, Paul adds: "And above all these things, put on charity," or love, "which is the bond of perfectness" (Col. iii. 14). These graces were garments, and love was the girdle which bound and held them together; and so love is the bond that holds true Christians together. Divine love is the great test by which we are to try ourselves and all teachers and spirits. Love is not puffed up. Love is not bigoted. Love is not intolerant. Love is not schismatic. Love is loyal to Jesus and to all His people. If we have this love shed abroad in our hearts by the Holy Ghost, we shall discern the voice of our Good Shepherd, and we shall not be deceived by the voice of the stranger; and so we shall be saved from both formalism and fanaticism. "HAVE YE RECEIVED THE HOLY GHOST SINCE YE BELIEVED?" VIII. GUIDANCE. "Ye shall receive power after that the Holy Ghost is come upon you." It is the work of the Holy Spirit to guide the people of God through the uncertainties and dangers and duties of this life to their home in Heaven. When He led the children of Israel out of Egypt, by the hand of Moses, He guided them through the waste, mountainous wilderness, in a pillar of cloud by day and of fire by night, thus assuring their comfort and safety. And this was but a type of His perpetual spiritual guidance of His people. "But how may I certainly know what God wants of me?" is sure to become the earnest and, oftentimes, the agonising cry of every humble and devoutly zealous young Christian. "How may I know the guidance of the Holy Spirit?" is asked again and again. 1. It is well for us to get it fixed in our minds that we need to be guided always by Him. A ship was wrecked on a rocky coast far out of the course that the captain thought he was taking. On examination, it was found that the compass had been slightly deflected by a bit of metal that had lodged in the box. But the voyage of life on which we each one sail is beset by as many dangers as the ship at sea, and how shall we surely steer our course to our heavenly harbour without Divine guidance? There is a wellnigh infinite number of influences to deflect us from the safe and certain course. We start out in the morning, and we know not what person we may meet, what paragraph we may read, what word may be spoken, what letter we may receive, what subtle temptation may assail or allure us, what immediate decisions we may have to make during the day, that may turn us almost imperceptibly, but none the less surely, from the right way. We need the guidance of the Holy Spirit. 2. We not only need Divine guidance, but we may have it. God's word assures us of this. Oh! how my heart was comforted and assured one morning by these words: "And the Lord shall guide thee continually" (Isaiah lviii. 11). Not occasionally, not spasmodically, but "continually." Hallelujah! The Psalmist says: "This God is our God for ever and ever: He will be our Guide even unto death" (Psalm xlviii. 14). Again, he says: "The meek will He guide in judgment: and the meek will He teach His way" (Psalm xxv. 9). And again, "I will instruct thee and teach thee in the way which thou shalt go: I will guide thee with Mine eye" (Psalm xxxii. 8). And again, "Thou shalt guide me with Thy counsel" (Psalm lxxiii. 24). Jesus said of the Holy Spirit: "Howbeit when He, the Spirit of Truth, is come, He will guide you into all truth" (John xvi. 13). And Paul wrote: "As many as are led by the Spirit of God, they are the sons of God" (Romans viii. 14). These Scriptures establish the fact that the children of God may be guided always by the Spirit of God. "Guide me, O Thou great Jehovah, Pilgrim through this barren land! I am weak, but Thou art mighty: Hold me with Thy powerful hand." 3. How does God guide us? Paul says: "We walk by faith, not by sight," and, "The just shall live by faith," so we may conclude:-- (a) That the guidance of the Holy Spirit is such as still to demand the exercise of faith. God never leads us in such a way as to do away with the necessity of faith. When God warned Noah, we read that it was by faith that Noah was led to build the ark. When God told Abraham to go to a land which He would show him, it was by faith that Abraham went (Hebrews xi. 7, 8). If we believe, we shall surely be guided; but if we do not believe, we shall be left to ourselves. Without faith it is impossible to please God, or to follow where He leads. Again, the Psalmist says, "The meek will He guide in judgment," from which we gather:-- (b) That the Spirit guides us in such manner as to demand the exercise of our best judgment. He enlightens our understanding and directs our judgment by sound reason and sense. I knew a man who was eager to obey God, and to be led by the Spirit, but who had the mistaken idea that the Holy Spirit sets aside human judgment and common sense, and speaks directly upon the most minute and commonplace matters. He wanted the Holy Spirit to direct him just how much to eat at each meal, and he has been known to take food out of his mouth at what he supposed to be the Holy Spirit's notification that he had eaten enough, and that if he swallowed that mouthful, it would be in violation of the leadings of the Spirit. No doubt, the Spirit will help an honest man to arrive at a safe judgment even in matters of this kind, but it will doubtless be through the use of his sanctified common sense. Otherwise, he is reduced to a state of mental infancy, and kept in intellectual swaddling clothes. He will guide us in judgment; but it is only as we resolutely, and in the best light we have, exercise judgment. John Wesley said that God usually guided him by presenting reasons to his mind for any given course of action. (c) The Psalmist says, "Thou shalt guide me with Thy counsel," and "I will instruct thee and teach thee in the way that thou shalt go." Now, counsel, instruction, and teaching not only imply effort upon the part of the teacher, but also study and close attention on the part of the one being taught. So this guidance of the Holy Spirit is such as will require us to attentively listen, diligently study, and patiently learn the lessons He would teach us. And so we see that the Holy Spirit does not set aside our powers and faculties, but seeks to awaken and stir them into full activity, and develop them into well-rounded perfection, and thus make them channels through which He can intelligently influence and direct us. What He seeks to do is to illuminate our whole spiritual being, as the sun illuminates our physical being, and bring us into such union and sympathy, such oneness of thought, desire, affection, and purpose with God, that we shall, by a kind of spiritual instinct, know at all times the mind of God concerning us, and never be in doubt about His will. 4. The Holy Spirit guides us-- (a) By opening up to our minds the deep, sanctifying truths of the Bible, and especially by revealing to us the character and spirit of Jesus and His Apostles, and leading us to follow in their footsteps--the footsteps of their faith and love and unselfish devotion to God and man, even unto the laying down of their lives. (b) By the circumstances and surroundings of our daily life. (c) By the counsel of others, especially of devout, and wise, and experienced men and women of God. (d) By deep inward conviction, which increases as we wait upon Him in prayer and readiness to obey. It is by this sovereign conviction that men are called to preach, to go to foreign fields as missionaries, to devote their time, talents, money, and lives to God's work for the bodies and souls of men. 5. Why do people seek for guidance and not find it? (a) Because they do not diligently study God's word, and seek to be filled with its truths and principles. They neglect the cultivation of their minds and hearts in the school of Christ, and so miss Divine guidance. One of the mightiest men of God now living used to carry his Bible with him into the coal mine when only a boy, and spent his spare time filling his mind and heart with its heavenly truths, and so prepared himself to be divinely led in mighty labours for God. (b) They do not humbly accept the daily providences, the circumstances, and conditions of their everyday life as a part of God's present plan for them; as His school in which He would train them for greater things; as His vineyard in which He would have them diligently labour. A young woman imagined she was called to devote herself entirely to saving souls; but under the searching training through which she had to pass saw her selfishness, and she said she would have to return home, and live a holy life there, and seek to get her family saved--something which she had utterly neglected--before she could go into the work. If we are not faithful at home, or in the shop, or mill, or store where we work, we shall miss God's way for us. (c) Because they are not teachable, and are unwilling to receive instruction from other Christians. They are not humble-minded. (d) Because they do not wait on God, and listen and heed the inner leadings of the Holy Spirit. They are self-willed; they want their own way. Some one has said, "That which is often asked of God is not so much His will and way, as His approval of our way." And another has said: "God's guidance is plain, when we are true." If we promptly and gladly obey, we shall not miss the way. Paul said of himself, "I was not disobedient to the heavenly vision." He obeyed God at all costs, and so the Holy Spirit could guide him. (e) Because of fear and unbelief. It was this fearfulness of unbelief that caused the Israelites to turn back, and not go into Canaan when Caleb and Joshua assured them that God would help them to possess the land. They lost sight of God, and feared the giants and walled cities, and so missed God's way for them and perished in the wilderness. (f) Because they do not take everything promptly and confidently to God in prayer. Paul tells us to be "instant in prayer"; and I am persuaded that it is slowness and delay to pray, and sloth and sleepiness in prayer, that rob God's children of the glad assurance of His guidance in all things. (g) Because of impatience and haste. Some of God's plans for us unfold slowly, and we must patiently and calmly wait on Him in faith and faithfulness, assured that in due time He will make plain His way for us, if our faith fail not. It is never God's will that we should get into a headlong hurry; but that, with patient steadfastness, we should learn to stand still when the pillar of cloud and fire does not move, and that with loving confidence and glad promptness we should strike our tents and march forward when He leads. "When we cannot see our way, Let us trust and still obey; He who bids us forward go, Cannot fail the way to show. Though the sea be deep and wide, Though a passage seem denied; Fearless, let us still proceed, Since the Lord vouchsafes to lead." Finally, we may rest assured that the Holy Spirit never leads His people to do anything that is wrong, or that is contrary to the will of God as revealed in the Bible. He never leads anyone to be impolite and discourteous. "Be courteous" is a Divine command. He would have us respect the minor graces of gentle, kindly manners, as well as the great laws of holiness and righteousness. He may sometimes lead us in ways that are hard for flesh and blood, and that bring to us sorrow and loss in this life. He led Jesus into the wilderness to be sore tried by the Devil, and to Pilate's judgment hall, and to the cross. He led Paul in ways that meant imprisonment, stonings, whippings, hunger and cold, and bitter persecution and death. But He upheld Paul until he cried out: "I take pleasure in infirmities, in reproaches, in necessities, in persecutions, in distresses for Christ's sake." "Yea," said he, "I glory in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me." Hallelujah! Oh, to be thus led by our Heavenly Guide! "He leadeth me! Oh, blessed thought! Oh, words with heavenly comfort fraught! Whate'er I do, where'er I be, Still 'tis God's hand that leadeth me. "Sometimes 'mid scenes of deepest gloom, Sometimes where Eden's bowers bloom, By waters still, o'er troubled sea, Still 'tis God's hand that leadeth me. "Lord, I will clasp Thy hand in mine, Nor ever murmur nor repine, Content, whatever lot I see, Since 'tis my God that leadeth me. "And when my task on earth is done, When by Thy grace the victory's won, E'en death's cold wave I will not flee, Since God through Jordan leadeth me." "HAVE YE RECEIVED THE HOLY GHOST SINCE YE BELIEVED?" IX. THE MEEK AND LOWLY HEART. "Ye shall receive power after that the Holy Ghost is come upon you." I know a man whose daily prayer for years was that he might be meek and lowly in heart as was his Master. "Take My yoke upon you, and learn of Me," said Jesus; "for I am meek and lowly in heart." How lowly Jesus was! He was the Lord of life and glory. He made the worlds, and upholds them by His word of power (John i., Hebrews i.). But He humbled Himself, and became man, and was born of the Virgin in a manger among the cattle. He lived among the common people, and worked at the carpenter's bench. And then, anointed with the Holy Spirit, He went about doing good, preaching the Gospel to the poor, and ministering to the manifold needs of the sick and sinful and sorrowing. He touched the lepers; He was the Friend of publicans and sinners. His whole life was a ministry of mercy to those who most needed Him. He humbled Himself to our low estate. He was a King who came "lowly, and riding upon an ass, and upon a colt, the foal of an ass" (Zech. ix. 9). He was a King, but His crown was of thorns, and a cross was His throne. What a picture Paul gives us of the mind and heart of Jesus! He exhorts the Philippians, saying, "Let nothing be done through strife or vainglory; but in lowliness of mind let each esteem other better than themselves"; and then he adds, "Let this mind be in you, which was also in Christ Jesus: who, being in the form of God, thought it not robbery to be equal with God; but made Himself of no reputation, and took upon Him the form of a servant, and was made in the likeness of men: and being found in fashion as a man, He humbled Himself, and became obedient unto death, even the death of the cross." Now, when the Holy Spirit finds His way into the heart of a man, the Spirit of Jesus has come to that man, and leads him to the same meekness of heart and lowly service that were seen in the Master. Ambition for place and power and money and fame vanishes, and in its place is a consuming desire to be good and do good, to accomplish in full the blessed, the beneficent will of God. Some time ago I met a woman who, as a trained nurse in Paris, nursing rich, English-speaking foreigners, received pay that in a few years would have made her independently wealthy; but the spirit of Jesus came into her heart, and she is now nursing the poor, and giving her life to them, and doing for them service the most loathsome and exacting, and doing it with a smiling face, for her food and clothes. Some able men in one of our largest American cities lost their spiritual balance, cut themselves loose from all other Christians, and made for a time quite a religious stir among many good people. They were very clear and powerful in their presentation of certain phases of truth, but they were also very strong, if not bitter, in their denunciations of all existing religious organisations. They attacked the churches and The Salvation Army, pointing out what they considered wrong so skilfully, and with such professions of sanctity, that many people were made most dissatisfied with the churches and with The Army. An Army Captain listened to them, and was greatly moved by their fervour, their burning appeals, their religious ecstasy, and their denunciations of the lukewarmness of other Christians, including The Army. She began to wonder if after all they were not right, and whether or not the Holy Spirit was amongst us. Her heart was full of distress, and she cried to God. And then the vision of our Slum Officers rose before her eyes. She saw their devotion, their sacrifice, their lowly, hidden service, year after year, among the poor and ignorant and vicious, and she said to herself, "Is not this the Spirit of Jesus? Would these men, who denounce us so, be willing to forgo their religious ecstasies and spend their lives in such lowly, unheralded service?" And the mists that had begun to blind her eyes were swept away, and she saw Jesus still amongst us going about doing good in the person of our Slum Officers and of all who for His name's sake sacrifice their time and money and strength to bless and save their fellow-men. You who have visions of glory and rapturous delight, and so count yourselves filled with the Spirit, do these visions lead you to virtue and to lowly, loving service? If not, take heed to yourselves, lest, exalted like Capernaum to Heaven, you are at last cast down to Hell. Thank God for the mounts of transfiguration where we behold His glory! but down below in the valley are children possessed of devils, and to them He would have us go with the glory of the mount on our faces, and lowly love and vigorous faith in our hearts, and clean hands ready for any service. He would have us give ourselves to them; and if we love Him, if we follow Him, if we are truly filled with the Holy Spirit, we will. A Captain used to slip out of bed early in the morning to pray, and then black his own and his Lieutenant's boots, and God mightily blessed him. Recently I saw him, now a Commissioner, with thousands of Officers and Soldiers under his command, at an outing in the woods by the lake shore, looking after poor and forgotten Soldiers, and giving them food with his own hand. Like the Lord, his eyes seemed to be in every place beholding opportunities to do good, and his feet and hands always followed his eyes; and this is the fruit of the indwelling Holy Spirit. "HAVE YE RECEIVED THE HOLY GHOST SINCE YE BELIEVED?" X. HOPE. "Ye shall receive power after that the Holy Ghost is come upon you." Are you ever cast down and depressed in spirit? Listen to Paul: "Now, the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, that ye may abound in hope, through the power of the Holy Ghost" (Romans xv. 13). What cheer is in those words! They ring like the shout of a triumph. 1. God Himself is "the God of hope." There is no gloom, no depression, no wasting sickness of deferred hope in Him. He is a brimming fountain and ocean of hope eternally, and He is our God. He is our Hope. 2. Out of His infinite fullness He is to fill us; not half fill us, but fill us with joy, "all joy," hallelujah! "and peace." 3. And this is not by some condition or means that is so high and difficult that we cannot perform our part, but it is simply "in believing "--something which the little child or the aged philosopher, the poor man and the rich man, the ignorant and the learned can do. And the result will be:-- 4. Abounding "hope through the power of the Holy Ghost." And what power is that? If it is physical power, then the power of a million Niagaras and flowing oceans and rushing worlds is as nothing compared to it. If it is mental power, then the power of Plato and Bacon and Milton and Shakespeare and Newton is as the light of a fire-fly to the sun when compared to it. If it is spiritual power, then there is nothing with which it can be compared. But suppose it is all three in one, infinite and eternal! This is the power, throbbing with love and mercy, to which we are to bring our little hearts by living faith, and God will fill us with joy and peace and hope by the incoming of the Holy Spirit. God's people are a hopeful people. They hope in God, with whom there is no change, no weakness, no decay. In the darkest night and the fiercest storm they still hope in Him, though it may be feebly. But He would have His people "abound in hope" so that they should always be buoyant, triumphant. But how can this be in a world such as this? We are surrounded by awful, mysterious, and merciless forces, that at any moment may overwhelm us. The fire may burn us, the water may drown us, the hurricane may sweep us away, friends may desert us, foes may master us. There is the depression that comes from failing health, from poverty, from overwork and sleepless nights and constant care, from thwarted plans, disappointed ambitions, slighted love, and base ingratitude. Old age comes on with its grey hairs, failing strength, dimness of sight, dullness of hearing, tottering step, shortness of breath, and general weakness and decay. The friends of youth die, and a new, strange, pushing generation that knows not the old man, comes elbowing him aside and taking his place. Under some blessed outpouring of the Spirit the work of God revives, vile sinners are saved, Zion puts on her beautiful garments, reforms of all kind advance, the desert blossoms as the rose, the waste place becomes a fruitful field, and the millennium seems just at hand; and then the spiritual tide recedes, the forces of evil are emboldened, they mass themselves and again sweep over the heritage of the Lord, leaving it waste and desolate, and the battle must be fought over again. How can one be always hopeful, always abounding in hope, in such a world? Well, hallelujah! it is possible "through the power of the Holy Ghost," but only through His power; and this power will not fail so long as we fix our eyes on eternal things and believe. The Holy Spirit, dwelling within, turns our eyes from that which is temporal to that which is eternal; from the trial itself to God's purpose in the trial; from the present pain to the precious promise. I am now writing in a little city made rich by vast potteries. If the dull, heavy clay on the potter's wheel and in the fiery oven could think and speak, it would doubtless cry out against the fierce agony; but if it could foresee the purpose of the potter, and the thing of use and beauty he meant to make it, it would nestle low under his hand and rejoice in hope. We are clay in the hand of the Divine Potter, but we can think and speak, and in some measure understand His high purpose in us. It is the work of the Holy Spirit to make us understand. And if we will not be dull and senseless and unbelieving, He will illuminate us and fill us with peaceful, joyous hope. 1. He would reveal to us that our Heavenly Potter has Himself been on the wheel and in the fiery furnace, learning obedience and being fashioned into "the Captain of our salvation" by the things which He suffered. When we are tempted and tried, and tempest-tossed, He raises our hope by showing us Jesus suffering and sympathising with us, tempted in all points as we are, and so able and wise and willing to help us in our struggle and conflict (Hebrews ii. 9-18). He assures us that Jesus, into whose hands is committed all power in Heaven and earth, is our elder Brother, "touched with the feeling of our infirmities" (Hebrews iv. 15), and He encourages us to rest in Him and not be afraid; and so we abound in hope, through His power as we believe. 2. He reveals to us the eternal purpose of God in our trials and difficulties. Listen to Paul: "All things work together for good to them that love God." "We know _this_," says Paul (Romans viii. 28). But how can this be? Ah! there is where faith must be exercised. It is "in believing" that we "abound in hope through the power of the Holy Ghost." God's wisdom and ability to make all things work together for our good are not to be measured by our understanding, but to be firmly held by our faith. My child is in serious difficulty and does not know how to help himself; but I say, "Leave it to me." He may not understand how I am to help him, but he trusts me, and rejoices in hope. We are God's dear children, and He knows how to help us, and make all things work together for our good, if we will only commit ourselves to Him in faith. "Thou art as much His care as if beside Nor man nor angel lived in Heaven or earth; Thus sunbeams pour alike their glorious tide, To light up worlds, or wake an insect's mirth." Again, afflictions overtake us, and now the Holy Spirit encourages our hope and makes it to abound by such promises as these: "Our light affliction, which is but for a moment, worketh for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory; while we look not at the things which are seen, but at the things which are not seen: for the things which are seen are temporal, but the things which are not seen are eternal" (2 Cor. iv. 17, 18). But such a promise as that only mocks us if we do not believe. "In all their affliction He was afflicted, and the angel of His presence saved them: in His love and in His pity He redeemed them; and He bare them, and He carried them all the days of old" (Isaiah lxiii. 9). And He is just the same to-day. To some He says: "I have chosen thee in the furnace of affliction" (Isaiah xlviii 10), and nestling down into His will and "believing," they "abound in hope through the power of the Holy Ghost." He turns our eyes back upon Job in his loss and pain; upon Joseph sold into Egyptian slavery; Daniel in the lions' den; the three Hebrews in the burning fiery furnace, and Paul in prison and shipwreck and manifold perils; and, showing us their steadfastness and their final triumph, He prompts us to hope in God. When weakness of body overtakes us, He encourages us with such assurances as these: "My flesh and my heart faileth; but God is the strength of my heart, and my portion for ever" (Psalm lxxiii. 26), and the words of Paul: "Though our outward man perish, yet the inward man is renewed day by day" (2 Cor. iv. 16). When old age comes creeping on apace, He has promised to meet the need that our hope fail not. Listen to David! He prays: "Cast me not off in the time of old age; forsake me not when my strength faileth.... Now also when I am old and greyheaded, O God, forsake me not; until I have showed Thy strength unto this generation, and Thy power to every one that is to come" (Psalm lxxi. 9, 18). And through Isaiah the Lord replies: "Even to your old age I am He; and even to hoar hairs will I carry you: I have made, and I will bear; even I will carry, and will deliver you" (Isaiah xlvi. 4). And David cries out, "The righteous shall flourish like the palm tree: he shall grow like a cedar in Lebanon. Those that be planted in the house of the Lord shall flourish in the courts of our God. They shall still bring forth fruit in old age; they shall be fat and flourishing, to show that the Lord is upright" (Psalm xcii. 12-15). These are sample promises of which the Bible is full, and which have been adapted by infinite wisdom and love to meet us at every point of doubt and fear and need, that, in believing them, we may have a steadfast and glad hope in God. He is pledged to help us. He says: "Fear thou not; for I am with thee: be not dismayed; for I am thy God: I will strengthen thee; yea, I will help thee; yea, I will uphold thee with the right hand of My righteousness" (Isaiah xli. 10). When all God's waves and billows seemed to sweep over David, and his soul was bowed within him, three times he cried out: "Why art thou cast down, O my soul? and why art thou disquieted in me? Hope thou in God: for I shall yet praise Him for the help of His countenance" (Psalm xlii. 5). And Jeremiah, remembering the wormwood and the gall, and the deep mire of the dungeon into which they had plunged him, and from which he had scarcely been delivered, said: "It is good that a man should both hope and quietly wait for the salvation of the Lord" (Lam. iii. 26). When the Holy Spirit is come, He brings to remembrance these precious promises, and makes them living words; and, if we believe, the whole heaven of our soul shall be lighted up with abounding hope. Hallelujah! It is only through ignorance of God's promises, or through weak and wavering faith, that hope is dimmed. Oh, that we may heed the still small voice of the Heavenly Comforter, and steadfastly, joyously believe! "My hope is built on nothing less Than Jesus' blood and righteousness; When all around my soul gives way, He then is all my Hope and Stay." "HAVE YE RECEIVED THE HOLY GHOST SINCE YE BELIEVED?" XI. THE HOLY SPIRIT'S SUBSTITUTE FOR GOSSIP AND EVIL-SPEAKING. "Ye shall receive power after that the Holy Ghost is come upon you." The other day I heard a man of God say: "We cannot bridle the tongues of the people among whom we live: they will talk"; and by talk he meant gossip and criticism and fault-finding. "You never can tell when you send a word-- Like an arrow shot from a bow By an archer blind--be it cruel or kind, Just where it will chance to go. It may pierce the breast of your dearest friend, Tipped with its poison or balm: To a stranger's heart in life's great mart It may carry its pain or its calm." The wise mother, when she finds her little boy playing with a sharp knife, or the looking-glass, or some dainty dish, does not snatch it away with a slap on his cheek or harsh words, but quietly and gently substitutes a safer and more interesting toy, and so avoids a storm. A sensible father who finds his boy reading a book of dangerous tendency, will kindly point out its character and substitute a better book that is equally interesting. When children want to spend their evenings on the street, thoughtful and intelligent parents will seek to make their evenings at home more healthfully attractive. When a man seeks to rid his mind of evil and hurtful thoughts, he will find it wise to follow Paul's exhortation to the Philippians: "Brethren, whatsoever things are true,... honest,... just,... pure,... lovely,... of good report;... if there be any praise, think on these things" (Phil. iv. 8). Any man who faithfully, patiently, and persistently accepts this programme of Paul's will find his evil thoughts vanishing away. And this is the Holy Spirit's method: He has a pleasant and safe substitute for gossip and fault-finding and slander. Here it is: "Be filled with the Spirit: speaking to yourselves in psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, singing and making melody in your heart to the Lord; giving thanks always for all things unto God and the Father in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ" (Eph. v. 18-20). This is certainly a fruit of being filled with the Spirit. Many years ago the Lord gave me a blessed revival in a little village in which nearly every soul in the place, as well as farmers from the surrounding country, were converted. One result was that they now had no time for gossip and doubtful talk about their neighbours. They were all talking about religion and rejoicing in the things of the Lord. If they met each other on the street, or in some shop or store, they praised the Lord, and encouraged each other to press on in the heavenly way. If they met a sinner, they tenderly besought him to be reconciled to God, to give up his sins, "flee from the wrath to come," and start at once for Heaven. If they met in each other's houses, they gathered around the organ or the piano and sang hymns and songs, and did not part till they had united in prayer. There was no criticising of their neighbours, no grumbling and complaining about the weather, no fault-finding with their lot in life, or their daily surroundings and circumstances. Their conversation was joyous, cheerful, and helpful to one another. Nor was it forced and out of place, but rather it was the natural, spontaneous outflow of loving, humble, glad hearts filled with the Spirit, in union with Jesus, and in love and sympathy with their fellow-men. And this is, I think, our Heavenly Father's ideal of social and spiritual intercourse for His children on earth. He would not have us separate ourselves from each other and shut ourselves up in convents and monasteries in austere asceticism on the one hand, nor would He have us light and foolish, or fault-finding and censorious on the other hand, but sociable, cheerful, and full of tender, considerate love. On the day of Pentecost, when they were all filled with the Holy Ghost and a multitude were converted, we read that "they, continuing daily with one accord in the temple, and breaking bread from house to house, did eat their meat with gladness and singleness of heart, praising God, and having favour with all the people" (Acts ii. 46, 47). This is a sample of the brotherly love and unity which our Heavenly Father would have throughout the whole earth; but how the breath of gossip and evil-speaking would have marred this heavenly fellowship and separated these "chief friends"! "Lord! subdue our selfish will; Each to each our tempers suit By Thy modulating skill, Heart to heart, as lute to lute." Let no one suppose, however, that the Holy Spirit accomplishes this heavenly work by some overwhelming baptism which does away with the need of our co-operation. He does not override us, but works with us; and we must intelligently and determinedly work with Him in this matter. People often fall into idle and hurtful gossip and evil-speaking, not so much from ill-will, as from old habit, as a wagon falls into a rut. Or they drift into it with the current of conversation about them. Or they are beguiled into it by a desire to say something, and be pleasant and entertaining. But when the Holy Spirit comes, He lifts us out of the old ruts, and we must follow Him with care lest we fall into them again, possibly never more to escape. He gives us life and power to stem the adverse currents about us, but we must exercise ourselves not to be swept downward by them. He does not destroy the desire to please, but He subordinates it to the desire to help and bless, and we must stir ourselves up to do this. When Miss Havergal was asked to sing and play before a worldly company, she sang a sweet song about Jesus, and, without displeasing anybody, greatly blessed the company. At a breakfast party John Fletcher told his experience so sweetly and naturally that all hearts were stirred, the Holy Ghost fell upon the company, and they ended with a glorious prayer meeting. William Bramwell used at meals to steadily and persistently turn the conversation into spiritual channels to the blessing of all who were present, so that they had two meals--one for the body and one for the soul. To do this wisely and helpfully requires thought and prayer and a fixed purpose, and a tender, loving heart filled with the Holy Spirit. I know a mother who seeks to have a brief season of prayer and a text of Scripture just before going to dinner to prepare her heart to guide the conversation along spiritual highways. Are you careful and have you victory in this matter, my comrade? If not, seek it just now in simple, trustful prayer, and the Lord who loves you will surely answer, and will be your helper from this time forth. He surely will. Believe just now, and henceforth "let your conversation be as becometh the gospel of Christ." "I ask Thee, ever blessed Lord, That I may never speak a word, Of envy born, or passion stirred. "First, true to Thee in heart and mind, Then always to my neighbour kind, By Thy good hand to good inclined. "Oh, save from words that bear a sting, That pain to any brother bring: Inbreathe Thy calm in everything. "Let love within my heart prevail, To rule my words when thoughts assail, That, hid in Thee, I may not fail. "I know, my Lord, Thy power within Can save from all the power of sin; In Thee let every word begin. "Should I be silent? Keep me still, Glad waiting on my Master's will: Thy message through my lips fulfil. "Give me Thy words when I should speak, For words of Thine are never weak, But break the proud, but raise the meek. "Into Thy lips all grace is poured, Speak Thou through me, Eternal Word, Of thought, of heart, of lips the Lord." "HAVE YE RECEIVED THE HOLY GHOST SINCE YE BELIEVED?" XII. THE SIN AGAINST THE HOLY GHOST. "Ye shall receive power after that the Holy Ghost is come upon you." God is love, and the Holy Spirit is ceaselessly striving to make this love known in our hearts, work out God's purposes of love in our lives, and transform and transfigure our character by love. And so we are solemnly warned against resisting the Spirit, and almost tearfully and always tenderly exhorted to "quench not the Spirit," and to "grieve not the Holy Spirit of God, whereby," says the Apostle, "ye are sealed unto the day of redemption." There is one great sin against which Jesus warned the Jews, as a sin never to be forgiven in this world nor in that which is to come. That was blasphemy against the Holy Ghost. That there is such a sin, Jesus teaches in Matthew xii. 31, 32, Mark iii. 28-30, and Luke xii. 10. And it may be that this is the sin referred to in Hebrews vi. 4-6; x. 29. Since many of God's dear children have fallen into dreadful distress through fear that they had committed this sin, it may be helpful for us to study carefully as to what constitutes it. Jesus was casting out devils, and Mark tells us that "the scribes which came down from Jerusalem said, He hath Beelzebub, and by the prince of the devils casteth He out devils." To this Jesus replied with gracious kindness and searching logic: "How can Satan cast out Satan? And if a kingdom be divided against itself, that kingdom cannot stand. And if a house be divided against itself, it cannot stand. And if Satan rise up against himself and be divided, he cannot stand, but hath an end. No man can enter into a strong man's house and spoil his goods, except he will first bind the strong man; and then he will spoil his house." In this quiet reply we see that Jesus does not rail against them, nor flatly deny their base assertion that He does His miracles by the power of the Devil, but shows how logically false must be their statement. And then, with grave authority, and, I think, with solemn tenderness in His voice and in His eyes, He adds, "Verily I say unto you, All sins shall be forgiven unto the sons of men, and blasphemies wherewith soever they shall blaspheme: but he that shall blaspheme against the Holy Ghost hath never forgiveness, but is in danger of eternal damnation"; or, as the Revised Version puts it, "is guilty of an eternal sin"; and then Mark adds, "because they said, He hath an unclean spirit" (Mark iii. 22-30). Jesus came into the world to reveal God's truth and love to men, and to save them, and men are saved by believing in Him. But how could the men of His day, who saw Him working at the carpenter's bench, and living the life of an ordinary man of humble toil and daily temptation and trial, believe His stupendous claim to be the only-begotten Son of God, the Saviour of the world, and the final Judge of all men? Any wilful and proud impostor could make such a claim. But men _could_ not and _ought_ not to believe such an assertion unless the claim were supported by ungainsayable evidence. This evidence Jesus began to give, not only in the holy life which He lived and the pure Gospel He preached, but in the miracles He wrought, the blind eyes He opened, the sick He healed, the hungry thousands He fed, the seas He stilled, the dead He raised to life again, and the devils He cast out of bound and harassed souls. The Scribes and Pharisees witnessed these miracles, and were compelled to admit these signs and wonders. Nicodemus, one of their number, said to Jesus, "Rabbi, we know that Thou art a teacher come from God: for no man can do these miracles that Thou doest, except God be with him" (John iii. 2). Would they now admit His claim to be the Son of God, their promised and long-looked-for Messiah? They were thoughtful men and very religious, but not spiritual. The Gospel He preached was Spirit and life; it appealed to their conscience and revealed their sin, and to acknowledge Him was to admit that they themselves were wrong. It meant submission to His authority, the surrender of their wills, and a change of front in their whole inner and outer life. This meant moral and spiritual revolution in each man's heart and life, and to this they would not submit. And so to avoid such plain inconsistency, they must discredit His miracles; and since they could not deny them, they declared that He wrought them by the power of the Devil. Jesus worked these signs and wonders by the power of the Holy Spirit, that he might win their confidence, and that they might reasonably believe and be saved. But they refused to believe, and in their malignant obstinacy heaped scorn upon Him, accusing Him of being in league with the Devil; and how could they be saved? This was the sin against the Holy Spirit against which Jesus warned them. It was not so much one act of sin, as a deep-seated, stubborn rebellion against God that led them to choose darkness rather than light, and so to blaspheme against the Spirit of truth and light. It was sin full and ripe and ready for the harvest. Some one has said that "this sin cannot be forgiven, not because God is unwilling to forgive, but because one who thus sins against the Holy Spirit has put himself where no power can soften his heart or change his nature. A man may misuse his eyes and yet see; but whosoever puts them out can never see again. One may misdirect his compass, and turn it aside from the North Pole by a magnet or piece of iron, and it may recover and point right again; but whosoever destroys the compass itself has lost his guide at sea." Many of God's dear children, honest souls, have been persuaded that they have committed this awful sin. Indeed, I once thought that I myself had done so, and for twenty-eight days I felt that, like Jonah, I was "in the belly of hell." But God, in love and tender mercy, drew me out of the horrible pit of doubt and fear, and showed me that this is a sin committed only by those who, in spite of all evidence, harden their hearts in unbelief, and to shield themselves in their sins deny and blaspheme the Lord. Dr. Daniel Steele tells of a Jew who was asked, "Is it that you _cannot_, or that you _will not_ believe?" The Jew passionately replied, "We _will_ not, we _will_ not believe." This was wilful refusal and rejection of light, and in that direction lies hardness of heart beyond recovery, fullness of sin, and final impenitence, which are unpardonable. Doubtless many through resistance to the Holy Spirit come to this awful state of heart; but those troubled, anxious souls who think they have committed this sin are not usually among the number. An Army Officer in Canada was in the midst of a glorious revival, when one night a gentleman arose and with deep emotion urged the young people present to yield themselves to God, accept Jesus as their Saviour, and receive the Holy Spirit. He told them that he had once been a Christian, but that he had not walked in the light, and, consequently, had sinned against the Holy Spirit, and could never more be pardoned. Then, with all earnest tenderness, he exhorted them to be warned by his sad state, and not to harden their hearts against the gracious influences, and entreated them to yield to the Saviour. Suddenly the scales of doubt dropped from his eyes, and he saw that he had not in his inmost heart rejected Jesus; that he had not committed the unpardonable sin; that "The love of God is broader Than the measure of man's mind: And the heart of the Eternal Is most wonderfully kind." And in an instant his heart was filled with light and love and peace, and sweet assurance that Christ Jesus was his Saviour, even his. In one meeting, I have known three people who thought they had committed this sin, and were bowed with grief and fear, to come to the penitent-form and find deliverance. The poet Cowper was plunged into unutterable gloom by the conviction that he had committed this awful sin; but God tenderly brought him into the light and sweet comforts of the Holy Spirit again, and doubtless it was in the sense of such lovingkindness that he wrote: "There is a fountain filled with blood, Drawn from Emanuel's veins; And sinners plunged beneath that flood Lose all their guilty stains." John Bunyan was also afflicted with horrible fears that he had committed the unpardonable sin, and in his little book entitled, "Grace Abounding to the Chief of Sinners" (a book which I would earnestly recommend to all soul-winners), he tells how he was delivered from his doubts and fears and was filled once more with the joy of the Lord. There are portions of his "Pilgrim's Progress" which are to be interpreted in the light of this grievous experience. Those who think they have committed this sin may generally be assured that they have not. 1. Their hearts are usually very tender, while this sin must harden the heart past all feeling. 2. They are full of sorrow and shame for having neglected God's grace and trifled with the Saviour's dying words, but such sorrow could not exist in a heart so fully given over to sin that pardon was impossible. 3. God says, "Whosoever will may come"; and if they find it in their hearts to come, they will not be cast out, but freely pardoned and received with loving kindness through the merits of Jesus' blood. God's promise will not fail, His faithfulness is established in the heavens. Bless His holy name! Those who have committed this sin are full of evil, and do not care to come, and will not, and, therefore, are never pardoned. Their sin is eternal. "HAVE YE RECEIVED THE HOLY GHOST SINCE YE BELIEVED?" XIII. OFFENCES AGAINST THE HOLY GHOST. "Ye shall receive power after that the Holy Ghost is come upon you." One day, in a fit of boyish temper, I spoke hot words of anger, somewhat unjustly, against another person, and this deeply grieved my mother. She said but little, and though her sweet face has mouldered many years beneath the Southern daisies, her look of grief I can still see across the years of a third of a century. And that is the one sad memory of my childhood. A stranger might have been amused or incensed at my words, but mother was grieved--grieved to her heart by my lack of generous, self-forgetful, thoughtful love. We can anger a stranger or an enemy, but it is only a friend we grieve. The Holy Spirit is such a Friend, more tender and faithful than a mother; and shall we carelessly offend Him, and estrange ourselves from Him in spite of His love? There is a sense in which every sin is against the Holy Ghost. Of course, not every such sin is unpardonable, but the tendency of all sin is in that direction, and we are only safe as we avoid the very beginnings of sin. Only as we "walk in the Spirit" are we "free from the law of sin and death" (Romans viii. 2). Therefore, it is infinitely important that we beware of offences against the Spirit, "lest any of you be hardened through the deceitfulness of sin" (Hebrews iii. 13). Grieving the Holy Spirit is a very common and a very sad offence of professing Christians, and it is to this that must be attributed much of the weakness and ignorance and joylessness of so many followers of Christ. And He is grieved, as was my mother, by the unloving speech and spirit of God's children. In his letters to the Ephesians, Paul says, "Let no corrupt communication proceed out of your mouth, but that which is good to the use of edifying, that it may minister grace unto the hearers." And then he adds: "And grieve not the Holy Spirit of God, whereby ye are sealed unto the day of redemption. Let all bitterness, and wrath, and anger, and clamour, and evil-speaking, be put away from you, with all malice. And be ye kind one to another, tender-hearted, forgiving one another, even as God for Christ's sake hath forgiven you. Be ye therefore followers of God, as dear children; and walk in love, as Christ also hath loved us, and hath given Himself for us" (Eph. iv. 29-v. 2). What does Paul teach us here? That it is not by some huge wickedness, some Judas-like betrayal, some tempting and lying to the Holy Ghost, as did Ananias and Sapphira (Acts v. 1-9), that we grieve Him, but by that which most people count little and unimportant; by talk that corrupts instead of blessing and building up those that hear, by gossip, by bitterness, and uncharitable criticisms and fault-findings. This was the sin of the elder son when the prodigal returned, and it was by this he pierced with grief the kind old father's heart. By getting in a rage, by loud, angry talking and evil-speaking and petty malice, by unkindness and hard-heartedness and an unforgiving spirit, we grieve Him. In a word, by not walking through the world as in our Father's house, and among our neighbours and friends as among His dear children; by not loving tenderly and making kindly sacrifices for one another, He is grieved. And this is not a matter of little importance. It may have sadly momentous consequences. It is a bitter, cruel, and often an irreparable thing to trifle with a valuable earthly friendship. How much more when the friendship is heavenly? when the Friend is our Lord and Saviour, our Creator and Redeemer, our Governor and Judge, our Teacher, Guide, and God? When we trifle with a friend's wishes--especially when such wishes are all in perfect harmony with and for our highest possible good--we may not estrange the friend from us, but we estrange ourselves from our friend. Our hearts grow cold toward him, though his heart may be breaking with longing toward us. The more Saul ill-treated David, the more he hated David. Such estrangement may lead, little by little, to yet greater sin, to strange hardness of heart, to doubts and unbelief, and backslidings and denial of the Lord. The cure for all this is a clean heart full of sweet and gentle, self-forgetful, generous love. Then we shall be "followers of God as dear children," then we shall "walk in love as Christ loved us, and gave Himself for us." But there is another offence, that of quenching the Spirit, which accounts for the comparative darkness and deadness of many of God's children. In I Thess. v. 16-19 the Apostle says: "Rejoice evermore. Pray without ceasing. In everything give thanks: for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus concerning you. Quench not the Spirit." When will the Lord's dear children learn that the religion of Jesus is a lowly thing, and that it is the little foxes that spoil the vines? Does not the Apostle here teach that it is not by some desperate, dastardly deed that we quench the Spirit, but simply by neglecting to rejoice and pray, and give thanks at all times and for all things? It is not necessary to blot the sun out of the heavens to keep the sunlight out of your house--just close the blinds and draw the curtains; nor do you pour barrels of water on the flames to quench the fire--just shut off the draught; nor do you dynamite the city reservoir and destroy all the mains and pipes to cut off your supply of sparkling water, but just refrain from turning on the main. So you do not need to do some great evil, some deadly sin, to quench the Spirit. Just cease to rejoice, through fear of man and of being peculiar; be prim and proper as a white and polished gravestone; let gushing joy be curbed; neglect to pray when you feel a gentle pull in your heart to get alone with the Lord; omit giving hearty thanks for all God's tender mercies, faithful discipline and loving chastenings, and soon you will find the Spirit quenched. He will no longer spring up joyously like a well of living water within you. But give the Spirit a vent, an opening, a chance, and He will rise within you and flood your soul with light and love and joy. Some years ago a sanctified woman of clear experience went alone to keep her daily hour with God; but, to her surprise, it seemed that she could not find Him, either in prayer or in His word. She searched her heart for evidence of sin, but the Spirit showed her nothing contrary to God in her mind, heart, or will. She searched her memory for any breach of covenant, any broken vows, any neglect, any omission, but could find none. Then she asked the Lord to show her if there were any duty unfulfilled, any command unnoticed, which she might perform, and quick as thought came the often-read words, "Rejoice evermore." "Have you done that this morning?" She had not. It had been a busy morning, and a well-spent one, but so far there had been no definite rejoicing in her heart, though the manifold riches and ground for joy of all Christians were hers. At once she began to count her blessings and thank the Lord for each one, and rejoice in Him for all the way He had led her, and the gifts He had bestowed, and in a very few minutes the Lord stood revealed to her spiritual consciousness. She had not committed sin, nor resisted the Spirit, but a failure to rejoice in Him who had daily loaded her with benefits (Psalm lxviii. 19) had in a measure quenched the Spirit. She had not turned the main, and so her soul was not flooded with living waters. She had not remembered the command: "Thou shalt rejoice before the Lord thy God in all that thou puttest thine hand unto." But that morning she learned a lifelong lesson, and she has ever since safeguarded her soul by obeying the many commands to "Rejoice in the Lord." Grieving and quenching the Spirit will not only leave barren and desolate an individual soul, but it will do so for a Corps, a church, a community, a whole nation or continent. We see this illustrated on a large scale by the long and weary Dark Ages, when the light of the Gospel was almost extinguished, and only here and there was the darkness broken by the torch of truth held aloft by some humble, suffering soul that had wept and prayed, and through painful struggles had found the light. We see it also in those Corps, churches, communities, and countries where revivals are unknown, or are a thing of the past, where souls are not born into the Kingdom, and where there is no joyous shout of victory among the people of God. Grieving and quenching the Spirit may be done unintentionally by lack of thought and prayer and hearty devotion to the Lord Jesus; but they prepare the way and lead to intentional and positive resistance to the Spirit. To resist the Spirit is to fight against Him. The sinner who, listening to the Gospel invitation, and convicted of sin, refuses to submit to God in true repentance and faith in Jesus, is resisting the Holy Spirit. We have bold and striking historical illustrations of the danger of resisting the Holy Spirit in the disasters which befell Pharaoh, and the terrible calamities which came upon Jerusalem, and have for twenty centuries followed the Jews. The ten plagues that came upon Pharaoh and his people were ten opportunities and open doors into God's favour and fellowship, which they themselves shut by their stubborn resistance, only to be overtaken by dreadful catastrophe. To the Jews, Stephen said: "Ye do always resist the Holy Ghost" (Acts vii. 51); and the siege and fall of Jerusalem, and the butchery and banishment and enslavement of its inhabitants, and all the woes that came upon the Jews, followed their rejection of Jesus and the hardness of heart and spiritual blindness which swiftly overtook them when they resisted all the loving efforts and entreaties of His disciples baptised with the Holy Spirit. And what on a large scale befalls nations and people, on a small scale also befalls individuals. Those that receive and obey the Lord are enlightened and blessed and saved; those that resist and reject Him are sadly left to themselves and surely swallowed up in destruction. Likewise the professing Christian who hears of heart-holiness and cleansing from all sin as a blessing he may now have by faith, and, convicted of his need of the blessing and of God's desire and willingness to bestow it upon him now, refuses to seek it in whole-hearted affectionate consecration and faith, is resisting the Holy Spirit. And such resistance imperils the soul beyond all possible computation. We see an example of this in the Israelites who were brought out of Egypt with signs and wonders, and led through the Red Sea and the wilderness to the borders of Canaan, but, forgetting, refused to go over into the land. In this they resisted the Holy Spirit in His leadings as surely as did Pharaoh, and with quite as disastrous results to themselves, perishing in their evil way. For their sin was as much greater than his as their light exceeded his. Hundreds of years later, Isaiah, writing of this time, says: "In all their affliction He was afflicted, and the angel of His presence saved them; in His love and in His pity He redeemed them; and He bare them, and carried them all the days of old. But they rebelled, and vexed His Holy Spirit; therefore He was turned to be their enemy, and He fought against them" (Isaiah lxiii. 9, 10). We see from this that Christians must beware and watch and pray and walk softly with the Lord in glad obedience and childlike faith, if they would escape the darkness and dryness that result from grieving and quenching the Spirit, and the dangers that surely come from resisting Him. "Arm me with jealous care, As in Thy sight to live; And, Oh, Thy servant, Lord, prepare, A strict account to give. "Help me to watch and pray, And on Thyself rely, Assured if I my trust betray, I shall for ever die." "HAVE YE RECEIVED THE HOLY GHOST SINCE YE BELIEVED?" XIV. THE HOLY SPIRIT AND SOUND DOCTRINE. "Ye shall receive power after that the Holy Ghost is come upon you." Is Jesus Christ divine? Is the Bible an inspired Book? Is man a fallen creature who can be saved only through the suffering and sacrifice of the Creator? Will there be a resurrection of the dead, and a day in which God will judge all the world by the Man Christ Jesus? Is Satan a personal being, and is there a Hell in which the wicked will be for ever punished? These are great doctrines which have been held and taught by His followers since the days of Jesus and His Apostles, and yet they are ever being attacked and denied. Are they true? Or are they only fancies and falsehoods, or figures of speech and distortions of truth? How can we find truth and know it? Jesus said, "When He, the Spirit of Truth, is come, He will guide you into all truth" (John xvi. 13). What truth? Not the truth of the multiplication table, or of physical science, or art, or secular history, but spiritual truth--the truth about God and His will and character, and our relations to Him in Christ--that truth which is necessary to salvation and holiness--into all this truth the Holy Spirit will guide us. "He shall teach you all things," said Jesus (John xiv. 26). How, then, shall we escape error and be "sound in doctrine"? Only by the help of the Holy Spirit. How do we know Jesus Christ is divine? Because the Bible tells us so? Infinitely precious and important is this revelation in the Bible; but not by this do we know it. Because the Church teaches it in her creed, and we have heard it from the catechism? Nothing taught in any creed or catechism is of more vital importance; but neither by this do we know it. How then? Listen to Paul: "No man can say that Jesus is the Lord, but by the Holy Ghost" (I Cor. xii. 3). "No man," says Paul. Then learning it from the Bible or catechism is not to know it except as the parrot might know it; but every man is to be taught this by the Holy Spirit, if he is to really know it. Then it is not a revelation made once for all, and only to the men who walked and talked with Jesus, but it is a spiritual revelation made anew to each believing heart that in penitence seeks Him and so meets the conditions of such a revelation. Then the poor, degraded, ignorant outcast at The Army penitent-form in the slums of London or Chicago, who never heard of a creed, and the ebony African and dusky Indian, who never saw the inside of a Bible, may have Christ revealed in him, and know by the revelation of the Holy Spirit that Jesus is Lord. "It pleased God... to reveal His Son in me," wrote Paul (Gal. i. 15, 16); and again, "Christ liveth in me" (Gal. ii. 20); and again, "My little children, of whom I travail in birth again until Christ be formed in you" (Gal. iv. 19); as though Christ is to be spiritually formed in the heart of each believer by the operation of the Holy Spirit, as He was physically formed in the womb of Mary by the same Spirit (Luke i. 35); and again, "The mystery which hath been hid from ages and from generations, but now is made manifest to His saints,... which is Christ in you, the hope of glory" (Col. i. 26, 27); "That Christ may dwell in your hearts by faith" (Eph. iii. 17); "Examine yourselves, whether ye be in the faith; prove your own selves. Know ye not your own selves, how that Jesus Christ is in you, except ye be reprobates" (2 Cor. xiii. 5)? "At that day," said Jesus, when making His great promise of the Comforter to His disciples, "At that day ye shall know that I am in My Father, and ye in Me, and I in you" (John xiv. 20); and again, in His great prayer, He said: "I have declared unto them Thy name, and will declare it: that the love wherewith Thou hast loved Me may be in them, and I in them." It is this ever-recurring revelation to penitent, believing hearts, by the agency of the ever-present Holy Spirit, that makes faith in Jesus Christ living and invincible. "I know He is Lord, for He saves my soul from sin, and He saves me now," is an argument that rationalism and unbelief cannot answer nor overthrow, and so long as there are men in the world who can say this, faith in the divinity of Jesus Christ is secure; and this experience and witness come by the Holy Ghost. "I worship Thee, O Holy Ghost, I love to worship Thee; My risen Lord for aye were lost But for Thy company." And so it is by the guidance and teaching of the Holy Spirit that all saving truth becomes vital to us. It is He that makes the Bible a living Book; it is He that convinces the world of judgment (John xvi. 8-11); it is He that makes men certain that there is a Heaven of surpassing and enduring glory and joy, and a Hell of endless sorrow and woe for those who sin away their day of grace and die in impenitence. Who have been the mightiest and most faithful preachers of the gloom and terror and pain of a perpetual Hell? those who have been the mightiest and most effective preachers of God's compassionate love. In all periods of great revival, when men seemed to live on the borderland, and in the vision of eternity, Hell has been preached. The leaders in these revivals have been men of prayer and faith and consuming love, but they have been men who knew "the terrors of the Lord," and, therefore, they preached the judgments of God, and they proved that the law with its penalties is a schoolmaster to bring men to Christ (Gal. iii. 24). Fox, the Quaker; Bunyan, the Baptist; Baxter, the Puritan; Wesley and Fletcher, and Whitefield and Caughey, the Methodists; Finney, the Presbyterian; Edwards and Moody, the Congregationalists; and General Booth, the Salvationist, have preached it, not savagely, but tenderly and faithfully, as a mother might warn her child against some great danger that would surely follow careless and selfish wrong-doing. What men have loved and laboured and sacrificed as these men? Their hearts have been a flaming furnace of love and devotion to God, and an over-flowing fountain of love and compassion for men; but just in proportion as they have discovered God's love and pity for the sinner, so have they discovered His wrath against sin and all obstinate wrong-doing; and as they have caught glimpses of Heaven and declared its joys and everlasting glories to men, so they have seen Hell, with its endless punishment, and with trembling voice and overflowing eyes have they warned men to "flee from the wrath to come." Were these men, throbbing with spiritual life and consumed with devotion to the Kingdom of God and the everlasting well-being of their fellowmen, led to this belief by the Spirit of Truth, or were they misled? Is it the prophet, weeping and praying and preaching and fighting for God and men, to whom the Spirit has always first spoken and revealed the things of God? Or is it the philosopher, or dry-as-dust theologian, or the popular preacher of smooth things, sitting in his study and among his books, spinning out of his own mind his conceits concerning God's plan and purpose in the universe? Does Seneca or the Psalmist, Plato or Paul, Rousseau or Wesley, the idolised, high-salaried, soft-raimented preacher of a wide gate and broad way to life and Heaven, or the veteran soul-winner, General Booth, more clearly make known the mind of God in matters that are spiritual? "The things of the Spirit... are spiritually discerned" (I Cor. ii. 14), says Paul. It is not by searching and philosophising that these things are found out, but by revelation. "Flesh and blood hath not revealed it unto thee," said Jesus to Peter, "but My Father which is in Heaven" (Matthew xvi. 17). The great teacher of truth is the Spirit of Truth, and the only safe expounders and guardians of sound doctrine are men filled with the Holy Ghost. Study and research have their place, and an important place; but in spiritual things they will be no avail unless prosecuted by spiritual men. As well might men blind from birth attempt to study the starry heavens, and men born deaf undertake to expound and criticise the harmonies of Bach and Beethoven. Men must see and hear to speak and write intelligently on such subjects. And so men must be spiritually enlightened to understand spiritual truth. The greatest danger to any religious organisation is that a body of men should arise in its ranks, and hold its positions of trust, who have learned its great fundamental doctrines by rote out of the catechism, but have no experimental knowledge of their truth inwrought by the mighty anointing of the Holy Ghost, and who are destitute of "an unction from the Holy One," by which, says John, "ye know all things" (1 John ii. 20, 27). Why do men deny the divinity of Jesus Christ? Because they have never placed themselves in that relation to the Spirit, and met those unchanging conditions that would enable Him to reveal Jesus to them as Saviour and Lord. Why do men dispute the inspiration of the Scriptures? Because the Holy Ghost, who inspired "holy men of God" to write the Book (2 Peter i. 21), hides its spiritual sense from unspiritual and unholy men. Why do men doubt a Day of Judgment, and a state of everlasting doom? Because they have never been bowed and broken and crushed beneath the weight of their sin, and by a sense of guilt and separation from a holy God that can only be removed by faith in His dying Son. A sportsman lost his way in a pitiless storm on a black and starless night. Suddenly his horse drew back and refused to take another step. He urged it forward, but it only threw itself back upon its haunches. Just then a vivid flash of lightning revealed a great precipice upon the brink of which he stood. It was but an instant, and then the pitchy blackness hid it again from view. But he turned his horse and anxiously rode away from the terrible danger. A distinguished professor of religion said to me some time ago, "I dislike, I abhor, the doctrine of Hell"; and then after a while added, "But three times in my life I have seen that there was eternal separation from God and an everlasting Hell for me, if I walked not in the way God was calling me to go." Into the blackness of the sinner's night the Holy Spirit, who is patiently and compassionately seeking the salvation of all men, flashes a light that gives him a glimpse of eternal things which, heeded, would lead to the sweet peace and security of eternal day. For when the Holy Spirit is heeded and honoured, the night passes, the shadows flee away, the day dawns, "the Sun of Righteousness arises with healing in His wings," and, saved and sanctified, men walk in His light in safety and joy. Doctrines which before were repellent to the carnal mind, and but foolishness, or a stumbling-block to the heart of unbelief, now become precious and satisfying to the soul; and truths which before were hid in impenetrable darkness, or seen only as through dense gloom and fog, are now seen clearly as in the light of broad day. "Hold thou the faith that Christ is Lord, God over all, who died and rose; And everlasting life bestows On all who hear the living word. For thee His life-blood He out-poured, His Spirit sets thy spirit free; Hold thou the faith--He dwells in thee, And thou in Him, and Christ is Lord!" "HAVE YE RECEIVED THE HOLY GHOST SINCE YE BELIEVED?" XV. PRAYING IN THE SPIRIT. "Ye shall receive power after that the Holy Ghost is come upon you." An important work of the Holy Spirit is to teach us how to pray, instruct us what to pray for, and inspire us to pray earnestly, without ceasing, and in faith, for the things we desire and the things that are dear to the heart of the Lord. In a familiar verse, the poet Montgomery says: "Prayer is the burden of a sigh, The falling of a tear, The upward glancing of the eye, When none but God is near." And no doubt he is right. Prayer is exceedingly simple. The faintest cry for help, a whisper for mercy, is prayer. But when the Holy Spirit comes and fills the soul with His blessed presence, prayer becomes more than a cry; it ceases to be a feeble request, and often becomes a strife (Romans xv. 30; Col. iv. 12) for greater things, a conflict, an invincible argument, a wrestling with God, and through it men enter into the Divine councils and rise into a blessed and responsible fellowship in some important sense with the Father and the Son in the moral government of the world. It was in this spirit and fellowship that Abraham prayed for Sodom (Genesis xviii. 23-32); that Moses interceded for Israel, and stood between them and God's hot displeasure (Exodus xxxii. 7-14); and that Elijah prevailed to shut up the heavens for three years and six months, and then again prevailed in his prayer for rain. God would have us come to Him not only as a foolish and ignorant child comes, but as an ambassador to his home government; as a full-grown son who has become of age and entered into partnership with his father; as a bride who is one in all interests and affections with the bridegroom. He would have us "come boldly to the throne of grace" with a well-reasoned and Scriptural understanding of what we desire, and with a purpose to "ask," "seek," and "knock" till we get the thing we wish, being assured that it is according to His will; and this boldness is not inconsistent with the profoundest humility and a sense of utter dependence; indeed, it is always accompanied by self-distrust and humble reliance upon the merits of Jesus, else it is but presumption and unsanctified conceit. This union of assurance and humility, of boldness and dependence, can be secured only by the baptism with the Holy Spirit, and only so can one be prepared and fitted for such prayer. Three great obstacles hinder mighty prayer: 1. selfishness; 2, unbelief; 3, the darkness of ignorance and foolishness. The baptism with the Spirit sweeps away these obstacles and brings in the three great essentials to prayer--1, faith; 2, love, Divine love; 3, the light of heavenly knowledge and wisdom. 1. Selfishness must be cast out by the incoming of love. The ambassador must not be seeking personal ends, but the interests of his government and the people he represents; the son must not be seeking private gain, but the common prosperity of the partnership in which he will fully and lawfully share; the bride must not forget him to whom she belongs, and seek separate ends, but in all ways identify herself with her husband and his interests. So the child of God must come in prayer, unselfishly. It is the work of the Holy Spirit, with our co-operation and glad consent, to search and destroy selfishness out of our hearts, and fill them with pure love to God and man. And when this is done we shall not then be asking for things amiss to consume them upon our lusts, to gratify our appetites, or pride, or ambition, or ease, or vain-glory. We shall seek only the glory of our Lord and the common good of our fellow-men, in which, as co-workers and partners, we shall have a common share. If we ask for success, it is not that we may be exalted, but that God may be glorified; that Jesus may secure the purchase of His blood; that men may be saved, and the Kingdom of Heaven be established upon earth. If we ask for daily bread, it is not that we may be full, but that we may be fitted for daily duty. If we ask for health, it is not alone that we may be free from pain and filled with physical comfort, but that we may be spent "in publishing the sinner's Friend," in fulfilling the work for which God has placed us here. 2. Unbelief must be destroyed. Doubt paralyzes prayer. Unbelief quenches the spirit of intercession. Only as the eye of faith sees our Father God upon the Throne guaranteeing to us rights and privileges by the blood of His Son, and inviting us to come without fear, and make our wants known, does prayer rise from the commonplace to the sublime; does it cease to be a feeble, timid cry, and become a mighty spiritual force, moving God Himself in the interests which it seeks. Men, wise with the wisdom of this world, but poor and naked and blind and foolish in matters of faith, ask: "Will God change His plans at the request of man?" And we answer, "Yes," since many of God's plans are made contingent upon the prayers of His people, and He has ordered that prayer offered in faith, according to His will, revealed in His word, shall be one of the controlling factors in His government of men. Is it God's will that the tides of the Atlantic and Pacific should sweep across the Isthmus of Panama? That men should run under the Alps? That thoughts and words should be winged across the ocean without any visible or tangible medium? Yes; it is His will, if men will it, and work to these ends in harmony with His great physical laws. So in the spiritual world there are wonders wrought by prayer, and God wills the will of His people when they come to Him in faith and love. What else is meant by such promises and assurances as these: "Therefore I say unto you, What things soever ye desire, when ye pray, believe that ye receive them, and ye shall have them" (Mark xi. 24); "The supplication of a righteous man availeth much in its working. Elijah was a man of like passions with us, and he prayed fervently that it might not rain; and it rained not on the earth for three years and six months. And he prayed again, and the heavens gave rain and the earth brought forth her fruit" (James v. 16-18. American Revision). The Holy Spirit dwelling within the heart helps us to understand the things we may pray for, and the heart that is full of love and loyalty to God only wants what is lawful. This is mystery to people who are under the dominion of selfishness and the darkness of unbelief, but it is a soul-thrilling fact to those who are filled with the Holy Ghost. "What wilt thou that I shall do unto thee?" asked Jesus of the blind man (Luke xviii. 41). He had respect to the will of the blind man, and granted his request, seeing he had faith. And He still has respect to the vigorous, sanctified will of His people--the will that has been subdued by consecration and faith into loving union with His will. The Lord answered Abraham on behalf of Sodom till he ceased to ask. "The Lord has had His way so long with Hudson Taylor," said a friend, "that now, Hudson Taylor can have his way with the Lord." Adoniram Judson lay sick with a fatal illness in far-away Burmah. His wife read to him an account of the conversion of a number of Jews in Constantinople through some of his writings. For a while the sick man was silent, and then he spoke with awe, telling his wife that for years he had prayed that he might be used in some way to bless the Jews, yet never having seen any evidence that his prayers were answered; but now, after many years and from far away, the evidence of answer had come. And then, after further silence, he spoke with deep emotion, saying that he had never prayed a prayer for the glory of God and the good of men but that, sooner or later, even though for the time being he had forgotten, he found that God had not forgotten, but had remembered and patiently worked to answer his prayer. Oh, the faithfulness of God! He means it when He makes promises and exhorts and urges and commands us to pray. It is not His purpose to mock us, but to answer and "to do exceeding abundantly above all that we ask or think." Bless His holy Name! 3. Knowledge and wisdom must take the place of foolish ignorance. Paul says, "We know not what we should pray for as we ought," and then adds, "But the Spirit Himself maketh intercession for us with groanings which cannot be uttered" (Romans viii. 26). If my little child asks for a glittering razor, I refuse its request; but when my full-grown son asks for one I grant it. So God cannot wisely answer some prayers, for they are foolish or untimely. Hence, we need not love and faith only, but wisdom and knowledge, that we may ask according to the will of God. It is this that Paul has in mind when he says that he will not only pray with the Spirit, but "I will pray with the understanding also" (I Cor. xiv. 15). Men should think before they pray, and study that they may pray wisely. Now, when the Holy Spirit comes there pours into the soul not only a tide of love and simple faith, but a flood of light as well, and prayer becomes not only earnest, but intelligent also. And this intelligence increases, as, under the leadership of the Holy Spirit, the word of God is studied, and its heavenly truths and principles are grasped and assimilated. It is thus men come to know God and become His friends, whose prayers He will assist and will not deny. Such men talk with God as friend with friend, and the Holy Spirit helps their infirmities; encourages them to urge their prayer in faith; teaches them to reason with God; enables them to come boldly in the name of Jesus, when oppressed with a sense of their own insignificance and unworthiness; and, when words fail them and they scarcely know how to voice their desires, He intercedes within them with unutterable groanings, according to the will of God (Romans viii. 26, 27; 1 Cor. ii. 11). A young man felt called to mission work in China, but his mother offered strong opposition to his going. An agent of the mission, knowing the need of the work, and vexed with the mother, one day laid the case before Hudson Taylor. "Mr. Taylor," said he, "listened patiently and lovingly to all I had to say, and then gently suggested our praying about it. Such a prayer I have never heard before! It seemed to me more like a conversation with a trusted friend whose advice he was seeking. He talked the matter over with the Friend from every point of view--from the side of the young man, from the side of China's needs, from the side of the mother, and her natural feelings, and also from my side. It was a revelation to me. I saw that prayer did not mean merely asking for things, much less asking for things to be carried out by God according to our ideas; but that it means _communion_, fellowship, partnership, with our Heavenly Father. And when our will is really blended with His, what liberty we may have in asking for what we want!" Hallelujah! "My soul, ask what thou wilt, Thou canst not be too bold; Since His own blood for thee He spilt, What else can He withhold?" "HAVE YE RECEIVED THE HOLY GHOST SINCE YE BELIEVED?" XVI. CHARACTERISTICS OF THE ANOINTED PREACHER. "Ye shall receive power after that the Holy Ghost is come upon you." Since God saves men by "the foolishness of preaching," the preacher has an infinitely important work, and he must be fitted for it. But what can fit a man for such sacred work? Not education alone, not knowledge of books, not gifts of speech, not winsome manners, nor a magnetic voice, nor a commanding presence, but only God. The preacher must be more than a man--he must be a man plus the Holy Ghost. Paul was such a man. He was full of the Holy Spirit, and in studying his life and ministry we get a life-sized portrait of an anointed preacher living, fighting, preaching, praying, suffering, triumphing, and dying in the power and light and glory of the indwelling Spirit. In the second chapter of the First of Thessalonians he gives us a picture of his character and ministry which were formed and inspired by the Holy Spirit, a sample of His workmanship, and an example for all Gospel preachers. At Philippi he had been terribly beaten with stripes on his bare back, and roughly thrust into the inner dungeon, and his feet were made fast in the stocks; but that did not break nor quench his spirit. Love burned in his heart, and his joy in the Lord brimmed full and bubbled over, and at midnight, in the damp, dark, loathsome dungeon, he and Silas, his comrade in service and suffering, "prayed and sang praises unto God." God answered with an earthquake, and the jailer and his household got gloriously converted. Paul was set free and went at once to Thessalonica, where, regardless of the shameful way he had been treated at Philippi, he preached the Gospel boldly, and a blessed revival followed with many converts; but persecution arose, and Paul had again to flee. His heart, however, was continually turning back to these converts, and at last he sat down and wrote them this letter. From this we learn that-- 1. He was a _joyful_ preacher. He was no pessimist, croaking out doleful prophecies and lamentations and bitter criticisms. He was full of the joy of the Lord. It was not the joy that comes from good health, a pleasant home, plenty of money, wholesome food, numerous and smiling friends, and sunny, favouring skies; but a deep, springing fountain of solemn, gladdening joy that abounded and overflowed in pain and weariness, in filthy, noisome surroundings, in loneliness and poverty, and danger and bitter persecutions. No earth-born trial could quench it, for it was Heaven-born; it was "the joy of the Lord" poured into his heart with the Holy Spirit. 2. He was a _bold_ preacher. Worldly prudence would have constrained him to go softly at Thessalonica, after his experience at Philippi, lest he arouse opposition and meet again with personal violence; but, instead, he says: "We were bold in our God to speak unto you the Gospel of God with much contention." Personal considerations were all forgotten, or cast to the winds, in his impetuous desire to declare the Gospel and save their souls. He lived in the will of God, and conquered his fears. "The wicked" are fearful, and "flee when no man pursueth; but the righteous are as bold as a lion." This boldness is a fruit of righteousness, and is always found in those who are full of the Holy Ghost. They forget themselves, and so lose all fear. This was the secret of the martyrs when burned at the stake or thrown to the wild beasts. Fear is a fruit of selfishness. Boldness thrives when selfishness is destroyed. God esteems it, commands His people to be courageous, and makes spiritual leaders only of those who possess courage (Joshua i. 9). Moses feared not the wrath of the king, refused to be called the son of Pharaoh's daughter, and boldly espoused the cause of his despised and enslaved people. Joshua was full of courage. Gideon fearlessly attacked one hundred and twenty thousand Midianites, with but three hundred unarmed men. Jonathan and his armour-bearer charged the Philistine garrison and routed hundreds singlehanded. David faced the lion and the bear, and inspired all Israel by battling with and killing Goliath. The prophets were men of the highest courage, who fearlessly rebuked kings, and at the risk of life, and often at the cost of life, denounced popular sins, and called the people back to righteousness and the faithful service of God. These men feared God, and so lost the fear of man. They believed God, and so obeyed Him, and found His favour, and were entrusted with His high missions and everlasting employments. "Fear thou not, for I am with thee," saith the Lord; and this Paul believed, and so says, "We were bold in our God." God was his high tower, his strength and unfailing defence, and so he was not afraid. His boldness toward man was a fruit of his boldness toward God, and that, in turn, was a fruit of his faith in Jesus as his High Priest, who had been touched with the feeling of his infirmities, and through whom he could "come boldly to the Throne of Grace, and obtain mercy, and find grace to help in every time of need." It is the timidity and delicacy with which men attempt God's work that often accounts for their failure. Let them speak out boldly like men, as ambassadors of Heaven, who are not afraid to represent their King, and they will command attention and respect, and reach the hearts and consciences of men. I have read that quaint old Bishop Latimer, who was afterwards burned at the stake, "having preached a sermon before King Henry VIII, which greatly displeased the monarch, was ordered to preach again on the next Sunday, and make apology for the offence given. The day came, and with it a crowded assembly anxious to hear the bishop's apology. Reading his text, he commenced thus: 'Hugh Latimer, dost thou know before whom thou art this day to speak? To the high and mighty monarch, the king's most excellent majesty, who can take away thy life if thou offendest. Therefore, take heed that thou speakest not a word that may displease. But, then, consider well, Hugh, dost thou not know from whence thou comest? Upon whose message thou art sent? Even by the great and mighty God, who is all-present, and who beholdeth all thy ways, and who is able to cast thy soul into Hell! Therefore, take care that thou deliver thy message faithfully.'" He then repeated the sermon of the previous Sunday, word for word, but with double its former energy and emphasis. The Court was full of excitement to learn what would be the fate of this plain-dealing and fearless bishop. He was ordered into the king's presence, who, with a stern voice, asked: "How dared you thus offend me?" "I merely discharged my duty," was Latimer's reply. The king arose from his seat, embraced the good man, saying, "Blessed be God I have so honest a servant." He was a worthy successor of Nathan, who confronted King David with his sin, and said, "Thou art the man." This Divine courage will surely accompany the fiery baptism of the Spirit. What is it but the indwelling of the Holy Spirit that gives courage to Salvation Army Officers and Soldiers, enabling them to face danger and difficulty and loneliness with joy, and attack sin in its worst forms as fearlessly as David attacked Goliath? "Not by might nor by power, but by My Spirit, saith the Lord." "Shall I, for fear of feeble man, The Spirit's course in me restrain? Awed by a mortal's frown, shall I Conceal the word of God most high? Shall I, to soothe the unholy throng, Soften Thy truth, or smooth my tongue? "How then before Thee shall I dare To stand, or how Thine anger bear? Yea, let men rage; since Thou wilt spread Thy shadowing wings around my head; Since in all pain Thy tender love Will still my sure refreshment prove." 3. He was _without guile_. "For our exhortation was not of deceit, nor of uncleanness, nor in guile; but as we were allowed of God to be put in trust with the Gospel, even so we speak; not as pleasing men, but God, which trieth our hearts." He was frank and open. He spoke right out of his heart. He was transparently simple and straightforward. Since God had honoured him with this infinite trust of preaching the Gospel, he sought to so preach it that he should please God regardless of men. And yet that is the surest way to please men. People who listen to such a man feel his honesty, and realise that he is seeking to do them good, to save them rather than to tickle their ears and win their applause, and in their hearts they are pleased. But, anyway, whether or not they are pleased, he is to deliver his message as an ambassador, and look to his home government for his reward. He gets his commission from God, and it is God who will try his heart and prove his ministry. Oh, to please Jesus! Oh, to stand perfect before God after preaching His Gospel! 4. He was _not a time-server nor a covetous man._ "Neither at any time used we flattering words, as ye know, nor a cloak of covetousness; God is witness," he adds. There are three ways of reaching a man's purse: (1) Directly. (2) By way of his head with flattering words. (3) By way of his heart with manly, honest, saving words. The first way is robbery. The second way is robbery, with the poison of a deadly, but pleasing, opiate added, which may damn his soul. The third reaches his purse by saving his soul and opening in his heart an unfailing fountain of benevolence to bless himself and the world. It were better for a preacher to turn highwayman, and rob men with a club and a strong hand, than, with smiles and smooth words and feigned and fawning affection, to rob them with flattery, while their poor souls, neglected and deceived, go down to Hell. How will he meet them in the Day of Judgment, and look into their horrorstricken faces, realising that he played and toyed with their fancies and affections and pride to get money, and, instead of faithfully warning them and seeking to save them, with flattering words fattened their souls for destruction! Not so did Paul. "I seek not yours, but you," he wrote the Corinthians. It was not their money, but their souls he wanted. But such faithful love will be able to command all men have to give. Why, to some of his converts he wrote: "I bear you record, that if it had been possible, ye would have plucked out your own eyes, and have given them to me" (Gal. iv. 15). But he sought not to please them with flattering words, only to save them. So faithful was he in this matter, and so conscious of his integrity, that he called God Himself into the witness-box. "God is witness," says he. Blessed is the man who can call on God to witness for him; and that man in whom the Holy Spirit dwells in fullness can do this. Can you, my brother? 5. He was _not vain-glorious, nor dictatorial, nor oppressive_. Some men care nothing for money, but they care mightily for power and place and the glory that men give. But Paul was free from this spiritual itching. Listen to him: "Nor of men sought we glory, neither of you, nor yet of others, when we might have been burdensome" (or "used authority") "as the Apostles of Christ." Said Solomon, "For men to seek their own glory is not glory," it is only vain-glory. "How can ye believe, which receive honour one of another, and seek not the honour that cometh from God only?" asked Jesus. From all this Paul was free, and so is every man who is full of the Holy Ghost. And it is only as we are thus free that with the whole heart and with a single eye we can devote ourselves to the work of saving men. 6. With all his boldness and faithfulness he was _gentle_. "We were gentle among you," he says, "as a nurse cherisheth her children." The fierce hurricane which casts down the giant trees of the forest is not so mighty as the gentle sunshine, which, from tiny seeds and acorns, lifts aloft the towering spires of oak and fir on a thousand hills and mountains. The wild storm that lashes the sea into foam and fury is feeble compared to the gentle, yet immeasurably powerful influence, which twice a day swings the oceans in resistless tides from shore to shore. And as in the physical world the mighty powers are gentle in their vast workings, so it is in the spiritual world. The light that falls on the lids of the sleeping infant and wakes it from its slumber, is not more gentle than the "still small voice" that brings assurance of forgiveness or cleansing to them that look unto Jesus. Oh, the gentleness of God! "Thy gentleness hath made me great," said David. "I beseech you by the meekness and gentleness of Christ" (2 Cor. x. 1), wrote Paul. And again, "The fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, longsuffering, gentleness" (Gal. v. 22). And as the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost are gentle, so will be the servant of the Lord who is filled with the Spirit. I shall never forget the gentleness of a mighty man of God whom I well knew, who on the platform was clothed with zeal as with a garment, and in his overwhelming earnestness was like a lion or a consuming fire; but when dealing with a wounded or broken heart, or with a seeking soul, no nurse with a little babe could be more tender than he. 7. Finally, Paul was full of _self-forgetful, self-sacrificing love._ "So being affectionately desirous of you, we were willing to have imparted unto you, not the Gospel of God only, but also our own souls, because ye were dear unto us." No wonder he shook those heathen cities, overthrew their idols, had great revivals, that his jailer was converted, and that his converts would have gladly plucked out their eyes for him! Such tender, self-sacrificing love compels attention, begets confidence, enkindles love, and surely wins its object. This burning love led him to labour and sacrifice, and so live and walk before them that he was not only a teacher, but an example of all he taught, and could safely say, "Follow me." This love led him to preach the whole truth, that he might by all means save them. He kept back no truth because it was unpopular, for it was their salvation and not his own reputation and popularity he sought. He preached not himself, but a crucified Christ, without the shedding of whose blood there is no remission of sins; and through that precious blood he preached present cleansing from all sin, and the gift of the Holy Spirit for all who obediently believe. And this love kept him faithful and humble and true to the end, so that at last in sight of the martyr's death, he saw the martyr's crown, and cried out: "I am now ready to be offered,... I have fought a good fight, I have finished my course, I have kept the faith; henceforth there is laid up for me a crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous Judge, shall give me at that day." He had been faithful, and now at the end he was oppressed with no doubts and harassed with no bitter regrets, but looked forward with eager joy to meeting his Lord and beholding the blessed face of Him he loved. Hallelujah! "Have you received the Holy Ghost? 'Twill fit you for the fight, 'Twill make of you a mighty host, To put your foes to flight. "Have you received the Holy Power? 'Twill fall from Heaven on you, From Jesus' throne this very hour, 'Twill make you brave and true. "Oh, now receive the Holy Fire! 'Twill burn away all dross, All earthly, selfish, vain desire, 'Twill make you love the Cross." "HAVE YE RECEIVED THE HOLY GHOST SINCE YE BELIEVED?" XVII. PREACHING. "Ye shall receive power after that the Holy Ghost is come upon you." "Where is the wise? Where is the scribe? Where is the disputer of this world? Hath not God made foolish the wisdom of this world?" asks Paul. And then he declares: "After that in the wisdom of God the world by wisdom knew not God, it pleased God by the foolishness of preaching to save them that believe." What kind of preaching is this? He does not say, "foolish preaching," but the foolishness of such a way as that of preaching. Certainly, it is not the moral essay, or the intellectual, or semi-intellectual, kind of preaching that is most generally heard throughout the world to-day, that is to save men; for thousands of such sermons move and convert no one: nor is it a mere noisy declamation called a sermon--noisy because empty of all earnest thought and true feeling; but it must be the kind of which Peter speaks when he writes of "them that preached the Gospel ... with the Holy Ghost sent down from Heaven" (1 Peter i. 12). No man is equipped to rightly preach the Gospel, and undertake the spiritual oversight and instruction of souls, till he has been anointed with the Holy Ghost. The disciples had been led to Jesus by John the Baptist, whose mighty preaching laid a deep and broad foundation for their spiritual education, and then for three years they had listened to both the public and private teachings of Jesus; they had been "eye-witnesses of His glory," of His life and death and resurrection, and yet He commanded them to tarry in Jerusalem, and wait for the Holy Spirit. He was to fit them for their ministry. And if they, trained and taught by the Master Himself, had need of the Holy Spirit to enable them to preach and testify with wisdom and power, how much more do you and I need His presence! Without Him they could do nothing. With Him they were invincible, and could continue the work of Jesus. The mighty energy of His working is seen in the preaching of Peter on the day of Pentecost. The sermon itself does not seem to have been very remarkable; indeed, it is principally composed of testimony backed up and fortified by Scripture quotations, followed by exhortation, just as are the sermons that are most effective to-day in the immediate conversion and sanctification of men. "True preaching," said Horace Bushnell, "is a testimony." Peter's Scripture quotations were apt, fitting the occasion and the people to whom they were addressed. The testimony was bold and joyous, the rushing outflow of a warm, fresh throbbing experience; and the exhortation was burning, uncompromising in its demands, and yet tender and full of sympathy and love. But a Divine Presence was at work in that vast, mocking, wondering throng, and it was He who made Peter's simple words search like fire, and carry such overwhelming conviction to the hearts of the people. And it is still so that whenever and wherever a man preaches "with the Holy Ghost sent down from Heaven," there will be conviction. Under Peter's sermon "they were pricked in their hearts." The truth pierced them as a sword until they said, "What shall we do?" They had been doubting and mocking a short time before, but now they were earnestly inquiring the way to be saved. The speech may be without polish, the manner uncouth, and the matter simple and plain; but conviction will surely follow any preaching in the burning love and power and contagious joy of the Holy Spirit. A few years ago a poor black boy in Africa, who had been stolen for a slave, and most cruelly treated, heard a missionary talking of the indwelling of the Holy Spirit, and his heart hungered and thirsted for Him. In a strange manner he worked his way to New York to find out more about the Holy Spirit, getting the captain of the ship and several of the crew converted on the way. The brother in New York to whom he came took him to a meeting the first night he was in the city, and left him there, while he went to fulfil another engagement. When he returned at a late hour, he found a crowd of men at the penitent-form, led there by the simple words of this poor black fellow. He took him to his Sunday-school, and put him up to speak, while he attended to some other matters. When he turned from these affairs that had occupied his attention for only a little while, he found the penitent-form full of teachers and scholars, weeping before the Lord. What the black boy had said he did not know; but he was bowed with wonder and filled with joy, for it was the power of the Holy Spirit. Men used to fall as though cut down in battle under the preaching of Wesley, Whitefield, Finney, and others. And while there may not be the same physical manifestation at all times, there will surely be the same opening of eyes to spiritual things, breaking of hearts, and piercing of consciences. The Spirit under the preaching of a man filled with the Holy Ghost will often come upon a congregation like a wind, and heads will droop, eyes will brim with tears, and hearts will break under His convicting power. I remember a proud young woman who had been mercilessly criticising us for several nights smitten in this way. She was smiling when suddenly the Holy Spirit winged a word to her heart, and instantly her countenance changed, her head drooped, and for an hour or more she sobbed and struggled while her proud heart broke, and she found her way with true repentance and faith to the feet of Jesus, and her Heavenly Father's favour. How often have we seen such sights as this under the preaching of The General! And it ought to be a common sight under the preaching of all servants of God, for what are we sent for but to convict men of their sin and their need, and by the power of the Spirit to lead them to the Saviour? And not only will there be conviction under such preaching, but generally, if not always, there will be conversion and sanctification. Three thousand people accepted Christ under Peter's Pentecostal sermon, and later five thousand were converted, and a multitude of the priests were obedient to the faith. And it was so under the preaching of Philip in Samaria, of Peter in Lydda and Saron and in Caesarea, and of Paul in Ephesus and other cities. To be sure, the preaching of Stephen in its immediate effect only resulted in enraging his hearers until they stoned him to death; but it is highly probable that the ultimate result was the conversion of Paul, who kept the clothes of those who stoned him, and through Paul the evangelisation of the Gentiles. One of the greatest of American evangelists sought with agonising prayers and tears the baptism with the Holy Spirit, and received it; and then he said he preached the same sermons; but where before it had been as one beating the air, now hundreds were saved. It is this that has made Salvation Army Officers successful. Young, inexperienced, without special gifts, and without learning, but with the baptism, they have been mighty to win souls. The hardest hearts have been broken, the darkest minds illuminated, the most stubborn wills subdued, and the wildest natures tamed by them. Their words have been with power, and have convicted and converted and sanctified men, and whole communities have been transformed by their labours. But without this Presence great gifts and profound and accurate learning are without avail in the salvation of men. We often see men with great natural powers, splendidly trained, and equipped with everything save this fiery baptism, and they labour and preach year after year without seeing a soul saved. They have spent years in study; but they have not spent a day, much less ten days, fasting and praying and waiting upon God for His anointing that should fill them with heavenly wisdom and power for their work. They are like a great gun loaded and primed, but without a spark of fire to turn the powder and ball into a resistless lightning bolt. It is fire men need, and that they get from God in agonising, wrestling, listening prayer that will not be denied; and when they get it, and not till then, will they preach with the Holy Ghost sent down from Heaven, and surely men shall be saved. Such preaching is not foolish. The Holy Spirit makes the word alive. He brings it to the remembrance of the preachers in whom He abides, and He applies it to the heart of the hearers, lightening up the soul as with a sun until sin is seen in all its hideousness, or cutting as a sharp sword, piercing the heart with resistless conviction of the guilt and shame of sin. Peter had no time to consult the Scriptures and prepare a sermon on the morning of Pentecost; but the Holy Spirit quickened his memory, and brought to his mind the Scriptures appropriate to the occasion. Hundreds of years before, the Holy Spirit, by the mouth of the prophet Joel, had foretold that in the last days the Spirit should be poured out upon all flesh, and that their sons and daughters should prophesy. And the same Spirit that spoke through Joel now made Peter to see and declare that this Pentecostal baptism was that of which Joel spoke. By the mouth of David He had said: "Thou wilt not leave My soul in hell, neither wilt Thou suffer Thy Holy One to see corruption"; and now Peter, by the inspiration of the same Spirit, applies this Scripture to the resurrection of Jesus, and so proves to the Jews that the One they had condemned and killed was the Holy One foretold in prophecy and psalm. And so to-day the Holy Spirit inspires men who receive Him to use the Scriptures to awaken, convict, and save men. When Finney was a young preacher, he was invited to a country school-house to preach. On the way there he became much distressed in soul, and his mind seemed blank and dark, when all at once this text, spoken to Lot in Sodom by the angels, came to his mind: "Up, get you out of this place; for the Lord will destroy this city." He explained the text, told the people about Lot, and the wickedness of Sodom, and applied it to them. While he spoke they began to look exceedingly angry, and then, as he earnestly exhorted them to give up their sins and seek the Lord, they began to fall from their seats as though stricken down in battle, and to cry to God for mercy. A great revival followed; many were converted, and a number of the converts became ministers of the Gospel. To Finney's amazement, he learned afterwards that the place was called Sodom, because of its extreme wickedness, and the old man who had invited him to preach was called Lot, because he was the only God-fearing man in the place. Evidently the Holy Spirit worked through Finney to accomplish these results. And such inspiration is not uncommon with those who are filled with the Spirit. But this reinforcement of the mind and memory by the Holy Spirit does not do away with the need of study. The Spirit quickens that which is already in the mind and memory, as the warm sun and rains of spring quicken the sleeping seeds that are in the ground, and only those. The sun does not put the seed in the soil, nor does the Holy Spirit without our attention and study put the word of God in our minds. For that we should prayerfully and patiently study. "We will give ourselves continually to prayer, and to the ministry of the word," said the Apostles. "Study to show thyself approved of God, a workman that needeth not to be ashamed; rightly dividing the word of truth," wrote Paul to Timothy. Those men have been best able to rightly divide the word, and have been most mightily used by the Holy Spirit, who have most carefully and prayerfully studied the word of God, and most constantly and lovingly meditated upon it. 4. This preaching is _healing and comforting._ Preaching "with the Holy Ghost sent down from Heaven" is indescribably searching in its effects. But it is also edifying, strengthening, comforting to those who are wholly the Lord's. It cuts, but only to cure. It searches, but only to save. It is constructive, as well as destructive. It tears down sin and pride and unbelief, but it builds up faith and righteousness and holiness and all the graces of a Christian character. It warms the heart with love, strengthens faith, and confirms the will in all holy purposes. Every preacher baptised with the Holy Ghost can say with Jesus: "The Spirit of the Lord God is upon Me; because the Lord hath anointed Me to preach good tidings unto the meek; He hath sent Me to bind up the broken-hearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives, and the opening of the prison to them that are bound; to proclaim the acceptable year of the Lord, and the day of vengeance of our God; to comfort all that mourn." Seldom is there a congregation in which there are only those who need to be convicted. There will also be meek and gentle ones to whom should be brought a message of joy and good tidings; broken-hearted ones to be bound up; wounded ones to heal; tempted ones to be delivered; and those whom Satan has bound by some fear or habit to be set free; and the Holy Spirit who knows all hearts will inspire the word that shall bless these needy ones. The preacher filled with the Holy Spirit, who is instant in prayer, constant in the study of God's word, and steadfast and active in faith, will surely be so helped that he can say with Isaiah: "The Lord God hath given me the tongue of the learned, that I should know how to speak a word in season to him that is weary" (Isaiah i. 4). And as with little Samuel, the Lord will "let none of his words fall to the ground" (1 Samuel iii. 19). He will expect results, and God will make them follow his preaching as surely as corn follows the planting and cultivating of the farmer. "HAVE YE RECEIVED THE HOLY GHOST SINCE YE BELIEVED?" XVIII. THE HOLY SPIRIT'S CALL TO THE WORK. "Ye shall receive power after that the Holy Ghost is come upon you." "THE Spirit of the Lord God is upon Me; because the Lord hath anointed Me to preach good tidings unto the meek; He hath sent Me" (Isaiah lxi. 1), is the testimony of the workman God sends. God chooses His own workmen, and it is the office of the Holy Spirit to call whom He will to preach the Gospel. I doubt not He calls men to other employments for His glory, and would still more often do so, if men would but listen and wait upon Him to know His will. He called Bezaleel and Aholiab to build the tabernacle. He called and commissioned the Gentile king, Cyrus, to rebuild Jerusalem and restore His chastised and humbled people to their own land. And did He not call Joan of Arc to her strange and wonderful mission? And Washington and Lincoln? And, no doubt, He _leads_ most men by His providence to their life-work; but the call to preach the Gospel is more than a providential leading; it is a distinct and imperative conviction. Bishop Simpson, in his "Lectures on Preaching," says:-- "Even in its faintest form there is this distinction between a call to the ministry and a choice of other professions: a young man may _wish_ to be a physician; he may _desire_ to enter the navy; he would _like_ to be a farmer; but he feels he _ought_ to be a minister. It is this feeling of _ought_, or obligation, which in its feeblest form indicates the Divine call. It is not in the aptitude, taste, or desire, but in the conscience, that its root is found. It is the voice of God to the human conscience, saying, 'You ought to preach.'" Sometimes the call comes as distinctly as though a voice had spoken from the skies into the depths of the heart. A young man who was studying law was converted. After a while he was convicted for sanctification, and while seeking he heard, as it were, a voice, saying, "Will you devote all your time to the Lord?" He replied: "I am to be a lawyer, not a preacher, Lord." But not until he had said, "Yes, Lord," could he find the blessing. A thoughtless, godless young fellow was working in the corn-field when a telegram was handed him announcing the death of his brother, a brilliant and devoted Salvation Army Field Officer; and there and then, unsaved as he was, God called him, showed him a vast Army with ranks broken, where his brother had fallen, and made him to feel that he should fill the breach in the ranks. Fourteen months later he took up the sword, and entered the Fight from the same platform from which his brother fell, and is to-day one of our most successful and promising Field Officers. Again, the call may come as a quiet suggestion, a gentle conviction, as though a gossamer bridle were placed upon the heart and conscience to guide the man into the work of the Lord. The suggestion gradually becomes clearer, the conviction strengthens until it masters the man, and if he seeks to escape it, he finds the silken bridle to be one of stoutest thongs and firmest steel. It was so with me. When but a boy of eleven, I heard a man preaching, and I said to myself, "Oh, how beautiful to preach!" Two years later I was converted, and soon the conviction came upon me that I should preach. Later, I decided to follow another profession; but the conviction increased in strength, while I struggled against it, and turned away my ears and went on with my studies. Yet in every crisis, or hour of stillness, when my soul faced God, the conviction that I must preach burned itself deeper into my conscience. I rebelled against it. I felt I would almost rather (but not quite) go to Hell than to submit. Then at last a great "Woe is me, if I preach not the Gospel," took possession of me, and I yielded, and God won. Hallelujah! The first year He gave me three revivals, with many souls; and now I would rather preach Jesus to poor sinners and feed His lambs than to be an archangel before the Throne. Some day, some day, He will call me into His blessed presence, and I shall stand before His face, and praise Him for ever for counting me worthy, and calling me to preach His glad Gospel, and share in His joy of saving the lost. The "woe" is lost in love and delight through the baptism of the Spirit and the sweet assurance that Jesus is pleased. Occasionally, the call comes to a man who is ready and responds promptly and gladly. When Isaiah received the fiery touch that purged his life and purified his heart, he "heard the voice of the Lord, saying, Whom shall I send, and who will go for Us?" And in the joy and power of his new experience, he cried out, "Here am I; send me!" (Isaiah vi. 5-8). When Paul received his call, he says, "Immediately I conferred not with flesh and blood" (Gal. i. 16), and he got up and went as the Lord led him. But more often it seems the Lord finds men preoccupied with other plans and ambitions, or encompassed with obstacles and difficulties, or oppressed with a deep sense of unworthiness or unfitness. Moses argued that he could not talk. "O Lord!" he said, "I am not eloquent, neither heretofore nor since Thou hast spoken unto Thy servant; but I am slow of speech, and of a slow tongue." And then the Lord condescended, as He always does, to reason with the backward man. "Who hath made man's mouth?" He asks, "or who maketh the dumb, or deaf, or the seeing, or the blind? have not I the Lord? Now, therefore, go, and I will be with thy mouth, and teach thee what thou shalt say" (Exodus iv. 10-12). When the call of God came to Jeremiah, he shrank back, and said, "Ah, Lord God! behold, I cannot speak: for I am a child." But the Lord replied, "Say not, I am a child: for thou shalt go to all that I shall send thee, and whatsoever I command thee thou shalt speak. Be not afraid of their faces, for I am with thee to deliver thee" (Jeremiah i. 6-8). And so the call of God comes to-day to those who shrink and feel that they are the most unfit, or most hedged in by insuperable difficulties. I know a man, who, when converted, could not tell A from B. He knew nothing whatever about the Bible, and stammered so badly that, when asked his own name, it would usually take him a minute or so to tell it; added to this, he lisped badly, and was subject to a nervous affliction which seemed likely to unfit him for any kind of work whatever. But God poured light and love into his heart, called him to preach, and to-day he is one of the mightiest soul-winners in the whole round of my acquaintance. When he speaks the house is always packed to the doors, and the people hang on his words with wonder and joy. He was converted at a Camp meeting, and sanctified wholly in a cornfield. He learned to read; but, being too poor to afford a light in the evening, he studied a large-print Bible by the light of the full moon. To-day, he has the Bible almost committed to memory, and when he speaks he does not open the Book, but reads his lesson from memory, and quotes proof texts from Genesis to Revelation without mistake, and gives chapter and verse for every quotation. When he talks his face shines, and his speech is like honey for sweetness, and like bullets fired from a gun for power. He is one of the weak and foolish ones God has chosen to confound the wise and mighty (1 Cor. i. 27). If God calls a man, He will so corroborate the call in some way, that men may know that there is a prophet among them. It will be with him as it was with Samuel. "And Samuel grew, and the Lord was with him, and did let none of His words fall to the ground. And all Israel, from Dan even to Beersheba, knew that Samuel was established to be a prophet of the Lord" (1 Samuel iii. 19, 20). If the man himself is uncertain about the call, God will deal patiently with him, as He did with Gideon, to make him certain. His fleece will be wet with dew when the earth is dry, or dry when the earth is wet; or he will hear of some tumbling barley cake smiting the tents of Midian, that will strengthen his faith, and make him to know that God is with him (Judges vi. 36-40; vii. 9-15). If the door is shut and difficulties hedge the way, God will go before the man He calls, and open the door and sweep away the difficulties (Isaiah xlv. 2, 3). If others think the man so ignorant and unfit that they doubt his call, God will give him such grace or such power to win souls that they shall have to acknowledge that God has chosen him. It was in this way that God made a whole National Headquarters, from the Commissioner downwards, to know that He had chosen the elevator boy for His work. The boy got scores of his passengers on the elevator saved, and then he was commissioned and sent into the Field to devote all his time to saving men. The Lord will surely let the man's comrades and brethren know, as surely as He did the Church at Antioch, when "the Holy Ghost said, Separate Me Barnabas and Saul for the work whereunto I have called them" (Acts xiii. 2). Sometimes the one who is called will try to hide it in his heart, and then God stirs up some Officer or minister, some Soldier or mother in Israel, to lay a hand on his shoulders, and ask, "Are you not called to the work?" and he finds he cannot hide himself nor escape from the call, any more than could Adam hide himself from God behind the trees of the garden, or Jonah escape God's call by taking ship for Tarshish. Happy is the man who does not try to escape, but, though trembling at the mighty responsibility, assumes it, and, with all humility and faithfulness, sets to work by prayer and patient, continuous study of God's word, to fit himself for God's work. He will need to prepare himself, for the call to the work is also a call to preparation, continuous preparation of the fullest possible kind. The man whom God calls cannot safely neglect or despise the call. He will find his mission on earth, his happiness and peace, his power and prosperity, his reward in Heaven, and probably Heaven itself, bound up with that call and dependent upon it. He may run away from it, as did Jonah, and find a waiting ship to favour his flight; but he will also find fierce storms and bellowing seas overtaking him, and big-mouthed fishes of trouble and disaster ready to swallow him. But if he heeds the call, and cheerfully goes where God appoints, God will go with him; he shall nevermore be left alone. The Holy Spirit will surely accompany him, and he may be one of the happiest men on earth, one of the gladdest creatures in God's universe. "Lo, I am with you alway, even unto the end of the world," said Jesus, as He commissioned His disciples to go to all nations and preach the Gospel. "My presence shall go with thee," said Jehovah to Moses, when sending him to face Pharaoh and free Israel, and lead them to the Promised Land. And to the boy Jeremiah, He said, "Be not afraid of their faces: for I am with thee to deliver thee.... And they shall fight against thee; but they shall not prevail against thee; for I am with thee" (Jeremiah i. 8, 19). I used to read these words with a great and rapturous joy, as I realised by faith that they were also meant for me, and for every man sent of God, and that His blessed presence was with me every time I spoke to the people or dealt with an individual soul, or knelt in prayer with a penitent seeker after God; and I still read them so. Has He called you into the work, my brother? And are you conscious of His helpful, sympathising, loving presence with you? If so, let no petty offence, no hardship, nor danger, nor dread of the future, cause you to turn aside or draw back. Stick to the work till He calls you out, and when He so calls you can go with open face and a heart abounding with love, joy, and peace, and He will still go with you. "HAVE YE RECEIVED THE HOLY GHOST SINCE YE BELIEVED?" XIX. THE SHEATHED SWORD: A LAW OF THE SPIRIT. "Ye shall receive power after that the Holy Ghost is come upon you." JUST as the moss and the oak are higher in the order of creation than the clod of clay and the rock, the bird and beast than the moss and the oak, the man than the bird and the beast, so the spiritual man is a higher being than the natural man. The sons of God are a new order of being. The Christian is a "new creation." Just as there are laws governing the life of the plant, and other and higher laws that of the bird and beast, so there are higher laws for man, and still higher for the Christian. It was with regard to one of these higher laws that govern the heavenly life of the Christian that Jesus said to Peter, "Put up thy sword." Jesus said to Pilate, "My kingdom is not of this world; if My kingdom were of this world, then would My servants fight." The natural man is a fighter. It is the law of his carnal nature. He fights with fist and sword, tongue and wit. His kingdom is of this world, and he fights for it with such weapons as this world furnishes. The Christian is a citizen of Heaven, and is subject to its law, which is universal, wholehearted love. In his kingdom he conquers not by fighting, but by submitting. When an enemy takes his coat, he overcomes him, not by going to law, but by generously giving him his cloak also. When his enemy compels him to go a mile with him, he vanquishes the enemy by cheerfully going two miles with him. When he is smitten on one cheek, he wins his foe by meekly turning the other cheek. This is the law of the new life from Heaven, and only by recognising and obeying it can that new life be sustained and passed on to others. This is the narrow way which leads to life eternal, "and few there be that find it," or, finding it, are willing to walk in it. A Russian peasant, Sutajeff, could get no help from the religious teachers of his village, so he learned to read, and while studying the Bible he found this narrow way, and walked gladly in it. One night neighbours of his stole some of his grain, but in their haste or carelessness they left a bag. He found it, and ran after them to restore it, "for," said he, "fellows who have to steal must be hard up." And by this Christlike spirit he saved both himself and them, for he kept the spirit of love in his own heart, and they were converted and became his most ardent disciples. A beggar woman, to whom he gave lodging, stole the bedding and ran away with it. She was pursued by the neighbours, and was just about to be put in prison when Sutajeff appeared, became her advocate, secured her acquittal, and gave her food and money for her journey. He recognised the law of his new life and gladly obeyed it, and so was not overcome of evil, but persistently and triumphantly overcame evil with good (Romans xii. 21). This is the spirit and method of Jesus; and by men filled with this spirit and following this method He will yet win the world. He came not to be ministered unto, but to minister, and to give His life a ransom for many. His spirit is not one of self-seeking, but of self-sacrifice. Some mysterious majesty of His presence or voice so awed and overcame His foes that they went back and fell to the ground before Him in the Garden of His agony, but He meekly submitted Himself to them; and when Peter laid to with his sword, and cut off the ear of the high priest's servant, Jesus said to him, "Put up thy sword into the sheath; the cup which My Father hath given Me, shall I not drink it?" This was the spirit of Isaac. When he digged a well, the Philistines strove with his servants for it; so he digged another; and when they strove for that, he removed and digged yet another, "and for that they strove not: and he called the name of it Rehoboth" (margin, _room_): "and he said, For now the Lord hath made room for us, and we shall be fruitful in the land.... And the Lord appeared unto him the same night, and said, I am the God of Abraham, thy father: fear not, for I am with thee, and will bless thee, and multiply thy seed" (Genesis xxvi. 22, 24). This was the spirit of David, when Saul was hunting for his life; twice David could have slain him, and when urged to do so, he said, "As the Lord liveth, the Lord shall smite him; or his day shall come to die; or he shall descend into battle and perish. The Lord forbid that I should stretch forth my hand against the Lord's anointed" (1 Samuel xxvi. 10, 11). This was the spirit of Paul. He says, "Being reviled, we bless; being persecuted, we suffer it; being defamed, we intreat" (1 Cor. iv. 12, 13). "The servant of the Lord must not strive," wrote Paul to Timothy, "but be gentle unto all men." This is the spirit of our King, this is the law of His Kingdom. Is this your spirit? When you are reviled, bemeaned and slandered, and are tempted to retort, He says to you, "Put up thy sword into the sheath." When you are wronged and illtreated, and men ride rough-shod over you, and you feel it but just to smite back, He says, "Put up thy sword into the sheath." "Live peaceably with all men." Your weapons are not carnal, but spiritual, now that you belong to Him, and have your citizenship in Heaven. If you fight with the sword; if you retort and smite back when you are wronged, you quench the Spirit; you get out of the narrow way, and your new life from Heaven will perish. An Officer went to a hard Corps, and after a while found that his predecessor was sending back to friends for money which his own Corps much needed. He felt it to be an injustice, and, losing sight of the Spirit of Jesus, he made a complaint about it, and the money was returned. But he got lean in his soul. He had quenched the Spirit. He had broken the law of the Kingdom. He had not only refused to give his cloak, but had fought for and secured the return of the coat. He had lost the smile of Jesus, and his poor heart was sad and heavy within him. He came to me with anxious inquiry as to what I thought of his action. I had to admit that the other man had transgressed, and that the money ought to be returned, but that he should have been more grieved over the unchristlike spirit of his brother than over the loss of the five dollars, and that like Sutajeff he should have said, "Poor fellow! he must be hard up; I will send him five dollars myself. He has taken my coat, he shall have my cloak too." When I told him that story, he came to himself very quickly, and was soon back in the narrow way and rejoicing in the smile of Jesus once again. "But will not people walk over us, if we do not stand up for our rights?" you ask. I do not argue that you are not to stand up for your rights; but that you are to stand up for your higher rather than your lower rights, the rights of your heavenly life rather than your earthly life, and that you are to stand up for your rights in the way and spirit of Jesus rather than in the way and spirit of the world. If men wrong you intentionally, they wrong themselves far worse than they wrong you; and if you have the spirit of Jesus in your heart you will pity them more than you pity yourself. They nailed Jesus to the cross and hung Him up to die; they gave Him gall and vinegar to drink; they cast votes for His seamless robe, and divided His garments between them, while the crowd wagged their heads at Him and mocked Him. Great was the injustice and wrong they were inflicting upon Him, but He was not filled with anger, only pity. He thought not of the wrong done Him, but of the wrong they did themselves, and their sin against His Heavenly Father, and He prayed not for judgment upon them, but that they might be forgiven, and He won them, and is winning and will win the world. Bless God! "By mercy and truth iniquity is purged," wrote Solomon. "Put up thy sword into the sheath, "and take mercy and truth for your weapons, and God will be with you and for you, and great shall be your victory and joy. Hallelujah! "HAVE YE RECEIVED THE HOLY GHOST SINCE YE BELIEVED?" XX. VICTORY THROUGH THE HOLY SPIRIT OVER SUFFERING. "Ye shall receive power after that the Holy Ghost is come upon you." HAD there been no sin our Heavenly Father would have found other means by which to develop in us passive virtues, and train us in the graces of meekness, patience, long-suffering, and forbearance, which so beautify and display the Christian character. But since sin is here, with its contradictions and falsehoods, its darkness, its wars, brutalities and injustices, producing awful harvests of pain and sorrow, God, in wonderful wisdom and lovingkindness, turns even these into instruments by which to fashion in us beautiful graces. Storm succeeds sunshine, and darkness the light; pain follows hard on the heels of pleasure, while sorrow peers over the shoulder of joy; gladness and grief, rest and toil, peace and war, interminably intermingled, follow each other in ceaseless succession in this world. We cannot escape suffering while in the body. But we can receive it with a faith that robs it of its terror, and extracts from it richest blessing; from the flinty rock will gush forth living waters, and the carcase of the lion will furnish the sweetest honey. This is so even when the suffering is a result of our own folly or sin. It is intended not only in some measure as a punishment, but also as a teacher, a corrective, a remedy, a warning; and it will surely work for good, if, instead of repining and vainly regretting the past, we steadily look unto Jesus and learn our lesson in patience and thankfulness. "If all the skies were sunshine, Our faces would be fain To feel once more upon them The cooling plash of rain. "If all the world were music, Our hearts would often long For one sweet strain of silence To break the endless song. "If life were always merry, Our souls would seek relief And rest from weary laughter In the quiet arms of grief." Doubtless all our suffering is a result of sin, but not necessarily the sin of the sufferer. Jesus was the sinless One, but He was also the Chief of sufferers. Paul's great and lifelong sufferings came upon him, not because of his sins, but rather because he had forsaken sin, and was following Jesus in a world of sin, and seeking the salvation of his fellows. In this path there is no escape from suffering, though there are hidden and unspeakable consolations. "In the world ye shall have tribulation," said Jesus. "All that will live godly in Christ Jesus shall suffer persecution," wrote Paul. Sooner or later, suffering in some form comes to each of us. It may come through broken health, or pain and weariness of body; or through mental anguish, moral distress, spiritual darkness and uncertainty. It may come through the loss of loved ones, through betrayal by trusted friends; or through deferred or ruined hopes, or base ingratitude; or perhaps in unrequited toil and sacrifice and ambitions all unfulfilled. Nothing more clearly distinguishes the man filled with the Spirit from the man who is not than the way each receives suffering. One with triumphant faith and shining face and strong heart glories in tribulation, and counts it all joy. To this class belong the Apostles, who, beaten and threatened, "departed from the council, rejoicing that they were counted worthy to suffer shame for His Name" (Acts v. 41). The other with doubts and fears, murmurs and complains, and to his other miseries adds that of a rebellious heart and discontented mind. One sees the enemy's armed host, and unmixed distress and danger; the other sees the angel of the Lord, with abundant succour and safety (2 Kings vi. 15-17). An evangelist of my acquaintance told a story that illustrates this. When a pastor he went one morning to visit two sisters who were greatly afflicted. They were about the same age, and had long been professing Christians and members of the Church. He asked the first one upon whom he called, "How is it with you this morning?" "Oh, I have not slept all night," she replied. "I have so much pain. It is so hard to have to lie here. I cannot see why God deals so with me." Evidently, she was not filled with the Spirit, but was in a controversy with the Lord about her sufferings, and would not be comforted. Leaving her he called immediately upon the other sister, and asked, "How are you to-day?" "Oh, I had such a night of suffering!" she replied. "Then," said he, "there came out upon her worn face, furrowed and pale, a beautiful radiance, and she added, "but Jesus was so near and helped me so, that I could suffer this way and more, if my Father thinks best"; and on she went with like words of cheer and triumph that made the sick room a vestibule of glory. No lack of comfort in her heart, for the Comforter Himself, the Holy Spirit, had been invited and had come in. One had the Comforter in fullness, the other had not. Probably, no man ever suffered more than Paul, but with soldier-like fortitude he bore his heavy burdens, faced his constant and exacting labours, endured his sore trials, disappointments, and bitter persecutions by fierce and relentless enemies; he stood unmoved amid shipwrecks, stripes and imprisonments, cold, hunger, and homelessness without a whimper that might suggest repining or discouragement, or an appeal for pity. Indeed, he went beyond simple uncomplaining fortitude, and said, "we glory in tribulation" (Romans v. 3); "I am exceeding joyful in all our tribulation" (2 Cor. vii. 4); "I take pleasure in infirmities, in reproaches, in necessities, in persecutions, in distresses for Christ's sake" (2 Cor. xii. 10). After a terrible scourging upon his bare back, he was thrust into a loathsome inner dungeon, his feet fast in the stocks, with worse things probably awaiting him on the morrow. Nevertheless, we find him and Silas, his companion in suffering, at midnight praying and singing praises unto God (Acts xvi. 25). What is his secret? Listen to him: "Because the love of God is shed abroad in our hearts by the Holy Ghost which is given unto us" (Romans v. 5). His prayer for his Ephesian brethren had been answered in his own heart: "That He would grant you, according to the riches of His glory, to be strengthened with might by His Spirit in the inner man; that Christ may dwell in your hearts by faith." And this inner strength and consciousness, through faith, in an indwelling Christ enabled him to receive suffering and trial, not stoically as the Red Indian, nor hilariously, in a spirit of bravado, but cheerfully and with a thankful heart. Arnold of Rugby has written something about his "most dear and blessed sister" that illustrates the power flowing from exhaustless fountains of inner joy and strength through the working of the Holy Spirit. He says:-- "I never saw a more perfect instance of the spirit and power of love, and of a sound mind. Her life was a daily martyrdom for twenty years, during which she adhered to her early-formed resolution of never talking about herself; she was thoughtful about the very pins and ribands of my wife's dress, about the making of a doll's cap for a child--but of herself, save only as regarded her ripening in all goodness, wholly thoughtless, enjoying everything lovely, graceful, beautiful, high-minded, whether in God's works or man's, with the keenest relish; inheriting the earth to the very fullness of the promise, though never leaving her crib, nor changing her posture; and preserved, through the very valley of the shadow of death, from all fear or impatience, and from every cloud of impaired reason, which might mar the beauty of Christ's and the Spirit's work." It is not by hypnotising the soul, nor by blessing it into a state of ecstatic insensibility, that the Lord enables the man filled with the Spirit to thus triumph over suffering. Rather it is by giving the soul a sweet, constant, and unshaken assurance through faith: First, that it is freely and fully accepted in Christ. Second, that whatever suffering comes, it is measured, weighed, and permitted by love infinitely tender, and guided by wisdom that cannot err. Third, that however difficult it may be to explain suffering now, it is nevertheless _one_ of the "all things" which "work together for good to them that love God," and that in a "little while" it will not only be swallowed up in the ineffable blessedness and glory, but that in some way it is actually helping to work out "a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory" (2 Cor. iv. 7). Fourth, that though the furnace has been heated seven times hotter than was wont, yet "the Form... like unto the Son of God" is walking with us in the fire; though triumphant enemies have thrust us into the lions' den, yet the angel of the Lord arrived first and locked the lions' jaws; though foes may have formed against us sharp weapons, yet they cannot prosper, for His shield and buckler defend us; though all things be lost, yet "Thou remainest"; and though "my flesh and my heart may fail, God is the strength of my heart and my portion for ever." Not all God's dear children thus triumph over their difficulties and sufferings, but this is God's standard, and they may attain unto it, if, by faith, they will open their hearts and "be filled with the Spirit." Here is the testimony of a Salvation Army Officer up to date:-- "Viewed from the outside, my life as a sinner was easy and untroubled, over which most of my friends expressed envy; while these same friends thought my life as a Christian full of care, toil, hardship, and immense loss. This, however, was only an outside view, and the real state of the case was exactly the opposite of what they supposed. For in all the pleasure-seeking, idleness, and freedom from responsibility of my life apart from God, I carried an immeasurable burden of fear, anxiety, and constantly recurring disappointment; trifles weighed upon me, and the thought of death haunted me with vague terrors. "But when I gave myself wholly to God, though my lot became at once one of toil, responsibility, comparative poverty and sacrifice, yet I could not feel pain in any storm that broke over my head, because of the presence of God. It was not so much that I was insensible to trouble, as sensible of His presence and love; and the worst trials were as nothing in my sight, nor have been for over twenty-two years. While as for death, it appears only as a doorway into more abundant life, and I can alter an old German hymn, and sing with joy: "'Oh, how my heart with rapture dances. To think my dying hour advances! Then, Lord, with Thee! My Lord, with Thee!'" This is faith's triumph over the worst the world can offer through the blessed fullness of the indwelling Comforter. Bless His Name! "Here speaks the Comforter, Light of the straying, Hope of the penitent, Advocate sure, Joy of the desolate, tenderly saying, 'Earth has no sorrow My grace cannot cure.'" "HAVE YE RECEIVED THE HOLY GHOST SINCE YE BELIEVED?" XXI. THE OVERFLOWING BLESSING. "Ye shall receive power after that the Holy Ghost is come upon you." THE children of Israel were instructed by Moses to give tithes of all they had to the Lord, and in return God promised to richly bless them, making their fields and vineyards fruitful and causing their flocks and herds to safely multiply. But they became covetous and unbelieving, and began to rob God by withholding their tithes, and then God began to withhold His blessing from them. But still God loved and pitied them, and sent to them again and again by His prophets; and finally by the prophet Malachi He said: "Bring ye all the tithes into the storehouse, that there may be meat in Mine house, and prove Me now herewith, saith the Lord of Hosts, if I will not open you the windows of heaven, and pour you out a blessing, that there shall not be room enough to receive it" (Malachi iii. 10). He promised to make their barns overflow, if they would be faithful, if they would pay their tithes and discharge their obligations to Him. Now, this overflow of barns and granaries is a type of overflowing hearts and lives when we give ourselves fully to God, and the blessed Holy Ghost comes in, and Jesus becomes all and in all to us. The blessing is too big to contain, but just bursts out and overflows through the life, the looks, the conversation, the very tones of the voice, and gladdens and refreshes and purifies wherever it goes. Jesus calls it "rivers of living water" (John vii. 38). There is an overflow of _love_. Sin brings in an overflow of hate, so that the world is filled with wars and murders, slanders, oppression, and selfishness. But this blessing causes love to overflow. Schools, colleges, and hospitals are built; shelters, rescue homes, and orphanages are opened; even war itself is in some measure humanised by the Red Cross Society and Christian commissions. Sinners love their own, but this blessing makes us to love all men--strangers, the heathen, and even our enemies. There is an overflow of _peace_. It settles old quarrels and grudges. It makes a different atmosphere in the home. The children know it when father and mother get the Comforter. Kindly words and sweet goodwill take the place of bitterness and strife. I suspect that even the dumb beasts realise the overflow. I heard a laughable story of a man whose cow would switch her tail in his face, and then kick over the pail when he was milking her, after which he would always give her a beating with the stool on which he sat. But he got the blessing, and his heart was overflowing with peace. The next morning he went to milk that cow, and when the pail was nearly full, swish! came the tail in his face, and with a vicious kick she knocked over the pail, and then ran across the barn-yard. The blessed man picked up the empty pail and stool and went over to the cow, which stood trembling, awaiting the usual kicks and beating; but instead he patted her gently, and said, "You may kick over that pail as often as you please, but I am not going to beat you any more"; and the cow seemed to understand, for she dropped her head and quietly began to eat, and never kicked again! That story is good enough to be true, and I doubt not it is, for certainly when the Comforter comes a great peace fills the heart and overflows through all the life. There is an overflow of _joy_. It makes the face to shine; it glances from the eye, and bubbles out in thanksgiving and praise. You never can tell when one who has the blessing will shout out, "Glory to God! Praise the Lord! Hallelujah! Amen!" I have sometimes seen a whole congregation wakened up and refreshed and made glad by the joyous overflow from one clean-hearted soul. A Salvation Soldier or Officer with an overflow of genuine joy is worth a whole company of ordinary folks. He is a host within himself, and is a living proof of the text, "The joy of the Lord is your strength." There is an overflow of _patience_ and _long-suffering._ A man got this blessing, and his wicked wife was so enraged that she left him, and went across the way and lived as the wife of his unmarried brother. He was terribly tempted to take his gun and go over and kill them both. But he prayed about it, and the Lord gave him the patience and long-suffering of Jesus, who bears long with the backslider who leaves Him and joins himself with the world; and he continued to treat them with the utmost kindness, as though they had done him no wrong. Some people might say the man was weak, but I should say he was unusually "strong in the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ," and a neighbour of his told me that all his neighbours believed in his religion. There is an overflow of _goodness_ and _generosity_. I read the other day of a poor man who supports eight workers in the foreign mission field. When asked how he did it, he replied that he wore celluloid collars, did his own washing, denied himself, and managed his affairs in order to do it. Do you ask, "How can I get such a blessing?" You will get it by bringing in all the tithes, by giving yourself in love and obedience and wholehearted, joyous consecration to Jesus, as a true bride gives herself to her husband. Do not try to bargain with the Lord and buy it of Him, but wait on Him in never-give-in prayer and confident expectation, and He will give it to you. And then you must not hold it selfishly for your own gratification, but let it overflow to the hungry, thirsty, fainting world about you. God bless you even now, and do for you exceeding abundantly above all you ask or think! A comrade went from one of my meetings recently with a heart greatly burdened for the blessing, and for two or three days and nights did little else but read the Bible, and pray and cry to God for a clean heart filled with the Spirit. At last the Comforter came, and with Him fullness of peace and joy and soul-rest, and that day this comrade led a number of others into the blessing. Hallelujah! "If ye then, being evil, know how to give good gifts unto your children, how much more shall your Heavenly Father give the Holy Spirit to them that ask Him" (Luke xi. 13). "_Ask,... seek,... knock_." "HAVE YE RECEIVED THE HOLY GHOST SINCE YE BELIEVED?" XXII. IMPORTANCE OF THE DOCTRINE AND EXPERIENCE OF HOLINESS TO SPIRITUAL LEADERS. "Ye shall receive power after that the Holy Ghost is come upon you." A mighty man inspires and trains other men to be mighty. We wonder and exclaim often at the slaughter of Goliath by David, and we forget that David was the forerunner of a race of fearless, invincible warriors and giant-killers. If we would in this light but study and remember the story of David's mighty men, it would be most instructive to us. Moses inspired a tribe of cowering, toiling, sweat-begrimed, spiritless slaves to lift up their heads, straighten their backs, and throw off the yoke; and he led them forth with songs of victory and shouts of triumph from under the mailed hand and iron bondage of Pharaoh. He fired them with a national spirit, and welded and organised them into a distinct and compact people that could be hurled with resistless power against the walled cities and trained warriors of Canaan. But what was the secret of David and Moses? Whence the superiority of these men? David was only a stripling shepherd-boy when he immortalised himself. What was his secret? To be sure, Moses was "instructed in all the wisdom of the Egyptians," and, doubtless, had been trained in all the civil, military, and scientific learning of his day, but he was so weak in himself that he feared and fled at the first word of questioning and disparagement that he heard (Exodus ii. 14), and spent the next forty years feeding sheep for another man in the rugged wilderness of Sinai. What, then, was his secret? Doubtless, they were men cast in a kinglier mould than most men; but their secret was not in themselves. Joseph Parker declared that great lives are built on great promises, and so they are. These men had so far humbled themselves that they found God. They got close to Him, and He spoke to them. He gave them promises. He revealed His way and truth to them, and trusting Him, believing His promises, and fashioning their lives according to His truth--His doctrine--everything else followed. They became "workers together with God," heroes of faith, leaders of men, builders of empire, teachers of the race, and, in an important sense, saviours of mankind. Their secret is an open one; it is the secret of every truly successful spiritual leader from then till now, and there is no other way to success in spiritual leadership. 1. They had an _experience_. They _knew God_. 2. This experience, this acquaintance with God, was _maintained_ and deepened and broadened in obedience to God's teaching, or truth, or doctrine. 3. They patiently yet urgently _taught others_ what they themselves had learned, and declared, so far as they saw it, the whole counsel of God. They were abreast of the deepest experiences and fullest revelations God had yet made to men. They were leaders, not laggards. They were not in the rear of the procession of God's warriors and saints; they were in the forefront. Here we discover the importance of the doctrine and experience of holiness through the baptism of the Holy Spirit to Salvation Army leaders. We are to know God and glorify Him and reveal Him to men. We are to finish the work of Jesus, and "fill up that which is behind of the sufferings of Christ" (Col. i. 24). We are to rescue the slaves of sin, to make a people, to fashion them into a holy nation, and inspire and lead them forth to save the world. How can we do this? Only by being in the forefront of God's spiritual hosts; not in name and in titles only, but in reality; by being in glad possession of the deepest experiences God gives, and the fullest revelations He makes to men. The astonishing military and naval successes of the Japanese are said to be due to their profound study, clear understanding, and firm grasp of the theory, the principles, the doctrines of war; their careful and minute preparation of every detail of their campaigns; the scientific accuracy and precision with which they carry out all their plans, and their splendid and utter personal devotion to their cause. Our war is far more complex and desperate than theirs, and its issues are infinitely more far-reaching, and we must equip ourselves for it; and nothing is so vital to our cause as a mastery of the doctrine and an assured and joyous possession of the Pentecostal experience of holiness through the indwelling Spirit. I. _The Doctrine._--What is the teaching of God's word about holiness? 1. If we carefully study God's word, we find that He wants His people to be holy, and the making of a holy people, after the pattern of Jesus, is the crowning work of the Holy Spirit. He commands us to "cleanse ourselves from all filthiness of the flesh and spirit, perfecting holiness in the fear of the Lord" (2 Cor. vii. 1). It is prayed that we may "increase and abound in love one toward another, and toward all men... to the end He may stablish your hearts unblameable in holiness before God" (1 Thess. iii. 12, 13). He says: "As He which hath called you is holy, so be ye holy in all manner of conversation; because it is written, Be ye holy, for I am holy" (1 Peter i. 15, 16). And in the most earnest manner we are exhorted to "follow peace with all men, and holiness, without which no man shall see the Lord" (Hebrews xii. 14). 2. As we further study the word, we discover that holiness is more than simple freedom from condemnation for wrong-doing. A helpless invalid lying on his bed of sickness, unable to do anything wrong, may be free from the condemnation of actual wrong-doing, and yet it may be in his heart to do all manner of evil. Holiness on its negative side is a state of heart purity; it is heart cleanness--cleanness of thought and temper and disposition, cleanness of intention and purpose and wish; it is a state of freedom from all sin, both inward and outward (Romans vi. 18). On the positive side it is a state of union with God in Christ, in which the whole man becomes a temple of God and filled with the fruit of the Spirit, which is "love, joy, peace, long-suffering, gentleness, goodness, faith, meekness, temperance." It is moral and spiritual sympathy and harmony with God in the holiness of His nature. We must not, however, confound purity with maturity. Purity is a matter of the heart, and is secured by an instantaneous act of the Holy Spirit; maturity is largely a matter of the head and results from growth in knowledge and experience. In one, the heart is made clean, and is filled with love; in the other, the head is gradually corrected and filled with light, and so the heart is enlarged and more firmly established in faith; consequently, the experience deepens and becomes stronger and more robust in every way. It is for this reason that we need teachers after we are sanctified, and to this end we are exhorted to humbleness of mind. Importance of the Doctrine. With a heart full of sympathy and love for his father my little boy may voluntarily go into the garden to weed the vegetables; but, being yet ignorant, lacking light in his head, he pulls up my sweet corn with the grass and weeds. His little heart glows with pleasure and pride in the thought that he is "helping papa," and yet he is doing the very thing I don't want him to do. But if I am a wise and patient father, I shall be pleased with him; for what is the loss of my few stalks of corn compared to the expression and development of his love and loyalty? And I shall commend him for the love and faithful purpose of his little heart, while I patiently set to work to enlighten the darkness of his little head. His heart is pure toward his father, but he is not yet mature. In this matter of light and maturity holy people often widely differ, and this causes much perplexity and needless and unwise anxiety. In the fourteenth chapter of Romans, Paul discusses and illustrates the principle underlying this distinction between purity and maturity. 3. As we continue to study the word under the illumination of the Spirit, who is given to lead us into all truth, we further learn that holiness is not a state which we reach in conversion. The Apostles were converted, they had forsaken all to follow Jesus (Matthew xix. 27-29), their names were written in Heaven (Luke x. 20), and yet they were not holy. They doubted and feared, and again and again were they rebuked for the slowness and littleness of their faith. They were bigoted, and wanted to call down fire from Heaven to consume those who would not receive Jesus (Luke ix. 51-56); they were frequently contending among themselves as to which should be the greatest, and when the supreme test came they all forsook Him and fled. Certainly, they were not only afflicted with darkness in their heads, but, far worse, carnality in their hearts; they were His, and they were very dear to Him, but they were not yet holy, they were yet impure of heart. Paul makes this point very clear in his Epistle to the Corinthians. He tells them plainly that they were yet only babes in Christ, because they were carnal and contentious (I Cor. iii. I). They were in Christ, they had been converted, but they were not holy. It is of great importance that we keep this truth well in mind that men may be truly converted, may be babes in Christ, and yet not be pure in heart; we shall then sympathise more fully with them, and see the more clearly how to help them and guide their feet into the way of holiness and peace. Those who hold that we are sanctified wholly in conversion will meet with much to perplex them in their converts, and are not intelligently equipped to bless and help God's little children. 4. A continued study of God's teaching on this subject will clearly reveal to us that purity of heart is obtained after we are converted. Peter makes this very plain in his address to the Council in Jerusalem, where he recounts the outpouring of the Holy Spirit upon Cornelius and his household. After mentioning the gift of the Holy Ghost, he adds, "and put no difference between us and them, purifying their hearts by faith" (Acts xv. 9). Among other things, then, the baptism of the Holy Ghost purifies the heart; but the disciples were converted before they received this Pentecostal experience, so we see that heart purity, or holiness, is a work wrought in us after conversion. Again, we notice that Peter says, "purifying their hearts by faith." If it is by faith, then it is not by growth, nor by works, nor by death, nor by purgatory after death. It is God's work. He purifies the heart, and He does it for those, and only those who, devoting all their possessions and powers to Him, seek Him by simple, prayerful, obedient, expectant, unwavering faith through His Son our Saviour. Unless we grasp these truths, and hold them firmly, we shall not be able to "rightly divide the word of truth," we shall hardly be "workmen that need not be ashamed, approved unto God" (2 Tim. ii. 15). Some one has written that "the searcher in science knows that if he but stumble in his hypothesis--that if he but let himself be betrayed into prejudice or undue leaning toward a pet theory, or anything but absolute uprightness of mind--his whole work will be stultified and he will fail ignominiously. To get anywhere in science he must follow truth with absolute rectitude." THE HOLY SPIRIT. And is there not a science of salvation, of holiness, of eternal life, that requires the same absolute loyalty to "the Spirit of Truth"? How infinitely important, then, that we know what that truth is, that we may understand and hold that doctrine. A friend of mine who finished his course with joy, and was called into the presence of his Lord to receive his crown some time ago, has pointed out some mistakes which we must carefully avoid. Here they are:-- "It is a great mistake to substitute repentance for Bible consecration. The people whom Paul exhorted to full sanctification were those who had turned from their idols to serve the living and true God, and to wait for His Son sent down from Heaven (I Thess. i. 9, 10; iii. 10-13; v. 23). "Only people who are citizens of His kingdom can claim His sanctifying power. Those who still have idols to renounce may be candidates for conversion, but not for the baptism with the Holy Ghost and fire. "It is a mistake in consecration to suppose that the person making it has anything of his own to give. We are not our own, but we are bought with a price, and consecration is simply taking our hands off from God's property. To wilfully withhold anything from God is to be a God-robber. "It is a mistake to substitute a mere mental assent to God's proprietorship and right to all we have, while withholding complete devotion to Him. This is theoretical consecration--a rock on which we fear multitudes are being wrecked. Consecration which does not embrace the crucifixion of self and the funeral of all false ambitions is not the kind which will bring the Holy Fire. A consecration is imperfect which does not embrace the speaking faculty" (the tongue), "and the believing faculty" (the heart), "the imagination, and every power of mind, soul, and body, and give all absolutely and for ever into the hands of Jesus, turning a deaf ear to every opposing voice. "Reader, have you made such a consecration as this? It must embrace all this, or it will prove a bed of quicksand to sink your soul, instead of a full salvation balloon, which will safely bear you above the fog and malaria and turmoil of the world, where you can triumphantly sing: "'I rise to float in realms of light, Above the world and sin. With heart made pure and garments white, And Christ enthroned within.' "It is a mistake to teach seekers to 'only believe,' without complete abandonment to God at every point, for they can no more do it than an anchored ship can sail. "It is a mistake to substitute mere verbal assent for obedient trust. 'Only believe' is a fatal snare to all who fall into these traps. "It is a mistake to believe that the altar sanctifies the gift without the assurance that all is on the altar. If even the end of your tongue, or one cent of your money, or a straw's weight of false ambition, or spirit of dictation, or one ounce of your reputation, or will, or believing powers be left off the altar, you can no more believe than a bird without wings can fly. "'Only believe' is only for those seekers of holiness who are truly converted, fully consecrated, and crucified to everything but the whole will of God. Teachers who apply this to people who have not yet reached these stations need themselves to be taught. All who have reached them may believe, and if they do believe, may look God in the face, and triumphantly sing: "'The blood, the blood is all my plea, Hallelujah, for it cleanseth me.'" II. _The Experience_.--Simply to be skilled in the doctrine is not sufficient for us as leaders. We may be as orthodox as St. Paul himself, and yet be only as "sounding brass and clanging cymbals," unless we are rooted in the blessed experience of holiness. If we would save ourselves and them that follow us, if we would make havoc of the Devil's kingdom and build up God's kingdom, we must not only know and preach the truth, but we must be living examples of the saving and sanctifying power of the truth. We are to be "living epistles, known and read of all men"; we must be able to say with Paul, "follow me as I follow Christ"; and "those things which ye learned and received and heard and saw in me, do; and the God of peace shall be with you." We must not forget that-- 1. We are ourselves simple Christians, individual souls struggling for eternal life and liberty, and we must by all means save ourselves. To this end we must be holy, else we shall at last experience the awful woe of those who, having preached to others, are yet themselves castaways. 2. We are leaders upon whom multitudes depend. It is a joy and an honour to be a leader, but it is also a grave responsibility. James says: "We shall receive the heavier judgment" (James iii. i, R.V.). How unspeakable shall be our blessedness, and how vast our reward, if, wise in the doctrine, and rich and strong and clean in the experience of holiness, we lead our people into their full heritage in Jesus! But how terrible shall be our condemnation, and how great our loss, if, in spiritual slothfulness and unbelief, we stop short of the experience ourselves and leave them to perish for want of the gushing waters and heavenly food and Divine direction we should have brought them! We need the experience for ourselves, and we need it for our work and for our people. What the roof is to a house, that the doctrine is to our system of truth. It completes it. What sound and robust health is to our bodies, that the experience is to our souls. It makes us every whit whole, and fits us for all duty. Sweep away the doctrine, and the experience will soon be lost. Lose the experience, and the doctrine will surely be neglected, if not attacked and denied. No man can have the heart, even if he has the head, to fully and faithfully and constantly preach the doctrine unless he has the experience. Spiritual things are spiritually discerned, and as this doctrine deals with the deepest things of the Spirit, it is only clearly understood and is best recommended, explained, defended, and enforced by those who have the experience. Without the experience, the presentation of the doctrine will be faulty and cold and lifeless, or weak and vacillating, or harsh and sharp and severe. With the experience, the preaching of the doctrine will be with great joy and assurance, and will be strong and searching, but at the same time warm and persuasive and tender. I shall never forget the shock of mingled surprise and amusement and grief with which I heard a Captain loudly announce in one of my meetings many years ago that he was "going to preach holiness now," and his people "have to get it," if he had to "ram it down their throats." Poor fellow! He did not possess the experience himself, and never pressed into it and soon forsook his people. A man in the clear experience of the blessing will never think of "ramming" it down people; but will, with much secret prayer, constant meditation and study, patient instruction, faithful warning, loving persuasion, and burning, joyful testimony, seek to lead them into that entire and glad consecration and that fullness of faith that never fail to receive the blessing. Again, the most accurate and complete knowledge of the doctrine, and the fullest possession of the experience, will fail us at last unless we carefully guard ourselves at several points, and unless we watch and pray. 3. We must not judge ourselves so much by our feelings as by our volitions. It is not my feelings, but the purpose of my heart, the attitude of my will, that God looks at, and it is that to which I must look. "If our heart condemns us not, then have we confidence toward God." A friend of mine who had firmly grasped this thought, and walked continually with God, used to testify: "I am just as good when I don't feel good as when I do feel good." Another mighty man of God said that all the feeling he needed to enable him to trust God was the consciousness that he was fully submitted to all the known will of God. We must not forget that the Devil is "the accuser of the brethren" (Rev. xii. 10), and that he seeks to turn our eyes away from Jesus, who is our Surety and our Advocate, to ourselves, our feelings, our infirmities, our failures; and if he succeeds in this, gloom will fill us, doubts and fears will spring up within us, and we shall soon fail and fall. We must be wise as the conies, and build our nest in the cleft of the Rock of Ages. Hallelujah! 4. We must not divorce conduct from character, or works from faith. Our lives must square with our teaching. We must live what we preach. We must not suppose that faith in Jesus excuses us from patient, faithful, laborious service. We must "live by every word that proceedeth out of the mouth of God"; that is, we must fashion our lives, our conduct, our conversation by the principles laid down in His word, remembering His searching saying, "Not every one that saith unto Me, Lord, Lord, shall enter into the Kingdom of Heaven, but he that doeth the will of My Father which is in Heaven." This subject of faith and works is very fully discussed by James (chap. ii. 14-26), and Paul is very clear in his teaching that, while God saves us not by our works, but by His mercy through faith, yet it is that we may "maintain good work" (Titus iii. 14); and "we are His workmanship, created in Christ Jesus unto good works, which God hath before ordained that we should walk in them" (Eph. ii. 8-10). Faith must "work by love," and emotion must be transmitted into action, and joy must lead to work, and love to faithful, self-sacrificing service, else they become a kind of pleasant and respectable, but none the less deadly, debauchery, and at last ruin us. 5. However blessed and satisfactory our present experience may be, we must not rest in it, but remember that our Lord has yet many things to say unto us, as we are able to receive them. We must stir up the gift of God that is in us, and say with Paul, "One thing I do, forgetting the things which are behind, and stretching forward" (as a racer) "to the things which are before, I press on toward the goal unto the prize of the high calling of God in Christ Jesus" (Phil. iii. 13, 14, R.V.). It is at this point that many fail. They seek the Lord, they weep and struggle and pray, and then they believe; but, instead of pressing on, they sit down to enjoy the blessing, and, lo! it is not. The children of Israel must needs follow the pillar of cloud and fire. It made no difference when it moved--by day or by night, they followed; and when the Comforter comes we must follow, if we would abide in Him and be filled with all the fullness of God. And, Oh, the joy of following Him! Finally, if we have the blessing--not the harsh, narrow, unprogressive exclusiveness which often calls itself by the sweet, heavenly term of holiness, but the vigorous, courageous, self-sacrificing, tender, Pentecostal experience of perfect love--we shall both save ourselves and enlighten the world, our converts will be strong, our Candidates for the work will multiply, and will be able, dare-devil men and women, and our people will come to be like the brethren of Gideon, of whom it was said, "Each one resembled the children of a king." "HAVE YE RECEIVED THE HOLY GHOST SINCE YE BELIEVED?" XXIII. VICTORY OVER EVIL TEMPER BY THE POWER OF THE HOLY SPIRIT. "Ye shall receive power after that the Holy Ghost is come upon you." Two letters recently reached me, one from Oregon, and one from Massachusetts, inquiring if I thought it possible to have temper destroyed. The comrade from Oregon wrote: "I have been wondering if the statement is correct when one says, 'My temper is all taken away.' Do you think the temper is destroyed or sanctified? It seems to me that if one's temper were actually gone he would not be good for anything." The comrade from Massachusetts wrote: "Two of our Corps Cadets have had the question put to them: 'Is it possible to have all temper taken out of our hearts?' One claims it is possible. The other holds that the temper is not taken out, but God gives power to overcome it." Evidently these are questions that perplex many people, and yet the answer seems to me simple. Temper, _as usually spoken of_, is not a faculty or power of the soul, but is rather an irregular, passionate, violent expression of selfishness. When selfishness is destroyed by love, by the incoming of the Holy Spirit, revealing Jesus to us as an uttermost Saviour, and creating within us a clean heart, of course such evil temper is gone, just as the friction and consequent wear and heat of two wheels is gone when the cogs are perfectly adjusted to each other. The wheels are far better off without friction, and just so man is far better off without such temper. We do not destroy the wheels to get rid of the friction, but we readjust them; that is, we put them into just or right relations to each other, and then noiselessly and perfectly they do their work. So, strictly speaking, sanctification does not destroy self, but it destroys selfishness--the abnormal and mean and disordered manifestation and assertion of self. I myself am to be sanctified, rectified, purified, brought into harmony with God's will as revealed in His word, and united to Him in Jesus, so that His life of holiness and love flows continually through all the avenues of my being, as the sap of the vine flows through all parts of the branch. "I am the Vine, ye are the branches," said Jesus. When a man is thus filled with the Holy Spirit he is not made into a putty man, a jelly fish, with all powers of resistance taken out of him; he does not have any less force and "push" and "go" than before, but rather more, for all his natural energy is now reinforced by the Holy Spirit, and turned into channels of love and peace instead of hate and strife. He may still feel indignation in the presence of wrong, but it will not be rash, violent, explosive, and selfish, as before he was sanctified, but calm and orderly, and holy, and determined, like that of God. It will be the wholesome, natural antagonism of holiness and righteousness to all unrighteousness and evil. Such a man will feel it when he is wronged, but it will be much in the same way that he feels when others are wronged. The personal, selfish element will be absent. At the same time there will be pity and compassion and yearning love for the wrong-doer and a greater desire to see him saved than to see him punished. A sanctified man was walking down the street the other day with his wife, when a filthy fellow on a passing wagon insulted her with foul words. Instantly the temptation came to the man to want to get hold of him and punish him, but as instantly the indwelling Comforter whispered, "If ye will forgive men their trespasses;" and instantly the clean heart of the man responded, "I will, I do forgive him, Lord;" and instead of anger a great love filled his soul, and instead of hurling a brick or hot words at the poor Devil-deceived sinner, he sent a prayer to God in Heaven for him. There was no friction in his soul. He was perfectly adjusted to his Lord; his heart was perfectly responsive to his Master's word, and he could rightly say, "My temper is gone." A man must have his spiritual eyes wide open to discern the difference between sinful temper and righteous indignation. Many a man wrongs and robs himself by calling his fits of temper "righteous indignation;" while, on the other hand, there is here and there a timid soul who is so afraid of sinning through temper as to suppress the wholesome antagonism that righteousness, to be healthy and perfect, must express towards all unrighteousness and sin. It takes the keen-edged word of God, applied by the Holy Spirit, to cut away unholy temper without destroying righteous antagonism; to enable a man to hate and fight sin with spiritual weapons (2 Cor. x. 3-5), while pitying and loving the sinner; to so fill him with the mind of Jesus that he will feel as badly over a wrong done to a stranger as though it were done to himself; to help him to put away the personal feeling and be as calm and unselfish and judicial in opposing wrong as is the judge upon the bench. Into this state of heart and mind is one brought who is entirely sanctified by the indwelling Holy Spirit. Hallelujah! Dr. Asa Mahan, the friend and co-worker of Finney, had a quick and violent temper in his youth and young manhood; but one day he believed, and God sanctified him, and for fifty years he said he never felt but one uprising of temper, and that was but for an instant, about five years after he received the blessing. For the following forty-five years, though subjected to many trials and provocations, he felt only love and peace and patience and good-will in his heart. A Christian woman was confined to her bed for years with nervous and other troubles, and was very cross and touchy and petulant. At last she became convinced that the Lord had a better experience for her, and she began to pray for a clean heart full of patient, holy, humble love; and she prayed so earnestly, so violently, that her family became alarmed lest she should wear her poor, frail body out in her struggle for spiritual freedom. But she told them she was determined to have the blessing, if it cost her her life, and so she continued to pray, until one glad, sweet day the Comforter came; her heart was purified, and from that day forth, in spite of the fact that she was still a nervous invalid, suffering constant pain, she never showed the least sign of temper or impatience, but was full of meekness, and patient, joyous thankfulness. "Love took up the harp of life, and smote on all the chords with might-- Smote the chord of Self, that, trembling, passed in music out of sight." Such is the experience of one in whom Jesus lives without a rival, and in whom grace has wrought its perfect work. "No form of vice, not worldliness, not greed of gold, not drunkenness itself, does more to un-Christianise society than evil temper," says a distinguished and thoughtful writer. If this be true, it must be God's will that we be saved from it. And it is provided for in the uttermost salvation that Jesus offers. Do you want this blessing, my brother, my sister? If so, be sure of this: God has not begotten such a desire in your heart to mock you; you may have it. God is able to do even this for you. With man it is impossible, but not with God. Look at Him just now for it. It is His work, His gift. Look at your past failures, and acknowledge them; look at your present and future difficulties, count them up and face them every one, and admit that they are more than you can hope to conquer; but then look at the dying Son of God, your Saviour--the Man with the seamless robe, the crown of thorns, and the nail-prints; look at the fountain of His Blood; look at His word; look at the Almighty Holy Ghost, who will dwell within you, if you but trust and obey, and cry out: "It shall be done! The mountain shall become a plain; the impossible shall become possible. Hallelujah!" Quietly, intelligently, abandon yourself to the Holy Spirit just now in simple, glad, obedient faith, and the blessing shall be yours. Glory to God! "HAVE YE RECEIVED THE HOLY GHOST SINCE YE BELIEVED?" 
6657	----	[Illustration: DOUGAN CLARK, M.D.] THE THEOLOGY OF HOLINESS. BY DOUGAN CLARK, M. D. PROFESSOR OF SYSTEMATIC THEOLOGY AND CHURCH HISTORY IN EARLHAM COLLEGE, RICHMOND, INDIANA. TO THE MEMORY OF MY FATHER AND MOTHER, DOUGAN AND ASENATH CLARK, BOTH FOR MANY YEARS APPROVED MINISTERS IN THE FRIENDS' CHURCH, AND BOTH LONG SINCE DEPARTED TO BE WITH CHRIST, THIS BOOK IS LOVINGLY Dedicated. CONTENTS. I. ENTIRE SANCTIFICATION A NECESSITY II. ENTIRE SANCTIFICATION OBTAINABLE III. ENTIRE SANCTIFICATION IN PATRIARCHAL TIMES IV. ENTIRE SANCTIFICATION IN TYPE V. ENTIRE SANCTIFICATION IN PROPHECY VI. ENTIRE SANCTIFICATION AS TAUGHT BY JESUS CHRIST VII. ENTIRE SANCTIFICATION AS TAUGHT BY PAUL VIII. ENTIRE SANCTIFICATION AS TAUGHT BY PETER IX. ENTIRE SANCTIFICATION AS TAUGHT BY JOHN X. ENTIRE SANCTIFICATION AS TAUGHT BY JAMES AND JUDE XI. SANCTIFIED BY GOD THE FATHER XII. SANCTIFIED BY GOD THE SON XIII. SANCTIFIED BY GOD THE HOLY GHOST XIV. SANCTIFIED BY THE TRUTH XV. SANCTIFIED BY FAITH XVI. CONCLUSION CHAPTER I. ENTIRE SANCTIFICATION A NECESSITY. Science is a systematic presentation of truth. Theology is the most important of all sciences. It is the science that treats of God and of man in his relation to God. It is a systematic presentation of revealed truth. As the basis of Astronomy is the universe of worlds revealed by the telescope, and as the basis of Geology is the crust of the earth, so the basis of Theology is the Divine revelation found in the Holy Scriptures. The Theology of Entire Sanctification, therefore, is a systematic presentation of the doctrine of entire sanctification as derived from the written word of God. Such a presentation we hope--with the help of the Holy Spirit, which we here and now earnestly invoke--to attempt to give in this book. May God bless the endeavor, and overrule our human weakness, to the glory of His Name. Amen. It is a lamentable fact that there is a large class of Christians to whom the subject of entire sanctification is a matter of indifference. They hope, with or without sufficient reason, that their sins are forgiven. They propose to live moral and useful lives, and trust, again with or without sufficient reason, that they will go to heaven when they die. The subject of holiness does not interest them. They suppose themselves to be doing well enough without it. There are others claiming to be Christians, to whom the subject is even positively distasteful. It is an offence to them. They do not want to hear it preached. They regard those who claim it as cranks. They look upon holiness meetings as being hotbeds of delusion and spiritual pride. They turn away from the whole subject not only with indifference, but with disdain. There are still others, and these God's children, as we may charitably believe, who do not even regard holiness as a desirable thing. They assert that it is needful and salutary to retain some sin in the heart as long as we live, in order to keep us humble. It is true that they are never able to tell how much sin it takes to have this beneficial effect, but a certain amount they are bent on having. Another class takes the opposite view. They regard holiness as very desirable, and a very lovely thing to gaze upon and think upon, but they also regard it as quite impossible of attainment. They hope to grow towards it all the days of their lives, and to get it at the moment of death. Not sooner than the dying hour, do they believe any human being can be made holy. Not till death is separating the soul from the body can even God Himself separate sin from the soul. The whole doctrine of entire sanctification, therefore, they regard as a beautiful theory, but wholly impossible as an experience, and wholly impracticable as a life. In general terms, we may say that carnal Christians, as described by Paul in I. Corinthians 3:1-4, are opposed to the doctrine of entire sanctification. "The carnal mind is enmity against God," and the carnal mind is irreconcilably opposed to holiness. This opposition may take one of the forms already described, or, possibly, some other forms which have been overlooked, but the root of the hostility is the same in all. Wherever "our old man" has his home in a Christian's heart, there entire sanctification will be rejected. But we must not forget that there are many exceptions. There are thousands of sincere, believing hearts in all Christian denominations, in whom inbred sin still exists, but not with the consent of the will. They are tired--very tired of the tyrant that rules them, or of the ceaseless struggles by which, with God's added and assisting grace, they are enabled to keep him under. They long for deliverance. They are hungering for full salvation, and rejoice to hear the message of entire sanctification through the baptism with the Holy Ghost and fire. The Lord bless all these hungering multitudes, and give them the desire of their hearts by saving them to the uttermost, and may their numbers be vastly increased, so that the banner of Christ's church may everywhere be unfurled--the banner on which is inscribed the glorious motto of Holiness to the Lord. Now we meet all objections to the doctrine of entire sanctification--whether in the form of indifference, or dislike, or undesirableness, or impossibility--with the simple proposition, It is necessary. If this proposition can be established, all objections, of whatever character, must fall to the ground, and the eager cry of every Christian heart must be, How can I obtain that priceless blessing which is essential to my eternal bliss, which is indispensable, and without which I shall never see the Lord? For this is the language of the Holy Ghost in Heb. 12:14, "Follow peace with all men, and holiness without which no man shall see the Lord," and in the Revised Version, "Follow after peace with all men, and the sanctification without which no man shall see the Lord." This can mean nothing short of entire sanctification, or the removal of inbred sin. And, surely, it is hardly necessary to argue the question as to the indispensableness of this blessed experience, in order to gain an entrance into heaven. Everyone will admit that God Himself is a perfectly and absolutely holy Being, and He has ever told His followers in all ages, "Be ye holy for I am holy"--making His own perfect and entire holiness the sufficient reason for requiring the same quality in His people. And, although the holiness of the highest created being will always fall infinitely short of that of the Infinite God, as regards quantity, it will be the same _in quality_, for Jesus tells us, "Be ye perfect even as your Father in heaven is perfect," not, of course, with the unmeasurable amount of perfection which appertains to Him, but with the same kind of perfection so far as it goes. And again in Rev. 21:27, we are told that "There shall in no wise enter into it" (the heavenly city) "anything that defileth, neither whatsoever worketh abomination or maketh a lie." Heaven is a holy place, and occupied with none but holy inhabitants. But if holiness of heart is a necessity in order that we may reach the blissful abode of the glory land, when is this stupendous blessing to be obtained? It is by no means, thoughtlessly, that I write obtained and not attained. It is very generally spoken of as an attainment, and this form of expression has a tendency to discourage the seeker by magnifying the difficulty of receiving this blessing. The thought contained in the word attainment is that of something earnestly striven for, struggled after, persistently pursued with much labor and toil and effort, until, at last, the coveted prize is attained. A very few of the multitudes who went to California, soon after gold was discovered there, attained fortune; but it was after years of hard labor and privation and hardship. The majority died on the way, or while mining for the precious metal, or returned as poor as they went. On the other hand, the idea of an obtainment is simply that of a gift. And entire sanctification is precisely a gift, "merely this and nothing more." It is not received by struggle, nor effort, nor merit of our own; it is not a great and laborious enterprise to be undertaken; not the fruit of a long journey or a perilous voyage; not by doing, nor trying, nor suffering, nor resolving, nor achieving, but by stretching out the hand of faith and taking. Praise the Lord. And, therefore, we ask again when is this indispensable gift to be obtained? The Roman Catholic and the Restorationist answer, in purgatorial fire, or in some kind of a second probation after death. But the Holy Scriptures tell us absolutely nothing either of a purgatory or a post-mortem probation. On the contrary, they clearly teach us that our destiny for all eternity is to be determined in one probation, which is allotted to us in the present life. Let no one suppose, for a moment, that he can be made fit for heaven at any time, nor in any place, nor by any means, after he has left this mundane sphere. "Behold, now is the accepted time; behold, now is the day of salvation." But all the Calvinistic churches by their creeds, and also a large portion of the membership of Arminian denominations, without regard to their creeds, if asked when are we to obtain entire sanctification as an essential meetness for heaven, would answer, at death. The prevailing idea on this subject, among Christian believers, seems to be as follows: First, through repentance toward God and faith toward our Lord Jesus Christ, we are converted. Our past sins are pardoned, and we are born again. After that, our sole business is to grow in grace, and by this growth to approach nearer and nearer to the standard of entire sanctification, but never even suppose that we can reach that standard until the moment of death. Now, grace is the gift of God, and we cannot, possibly, grow in grace until we receive it. And we can never grow into grace, but grow in it after we get it. We can grow, it is true, in the grace of justification to a limited degree and for a limited time. The degree is limited because of the presence of inbred sin, which is the great, if indeed, not the only hindrance of growth. The time is limited in most cases, at least, because if the justified Christian is brought to see the need and the possibility of entire sanctification, and yet fails, as so many do, to enter into the blessing, because of unbelief, he is very prone either to backslide, in which case, of course, there will be a cessation of growth, or, like the Galatians, he will submit to the bondage of legalism, and after having begun in the Spirit, he will seek to be perfected in the flesh; in which case Paul's verdict to that beloved church was not ye are growing in grace, but, "ye are fallen from grace." It is plain, therefore, that we can never grow into the blessing of entire sanctification. That blessing is to be received by faith, as the gift of God in Christ Jesus and through the Holy Spirit; and when the grace has once been obtained in this manner, then we can grow in it indefinitely and for a lifetime, possibly even for an eternity. Growth in grace is a most blessed thing in its right place, and when rightly understood and experienced, but it can never bring us to the death of the old man, nor to the experience of entire sanctification. And as growth cannot do this, neither can death. Death is nowhere mentioned in Scripture as a sanctifier. Death can separate the soul from the body, but to separate sin from the soul is a work which God can only do. Jesus Christ is our sanctification, and the Holy Spirit is our sanctifier, and even if the work is performed in the article of death, it is still the Holy Spirit and not death that performs it. And if He can perform it in the hour and article of death, where is the hindrance to His performing it a week, a month, a year, or forty years before death--if only the conditions are fulfilled on our part. Do we say that He cannot perform it before death; then where is His omnipotence? Do we say that He will not do it before death; then where is His own holiness? In either case, we dishonor God and rob ourselves of an inestimable and indispensable blessing. God save us from such folly. Scripture, reason and experience, therefore, all unite in the sentiment that entire sanctification is to be sought and obtained now, and if now, then it is to be obtained instantaneously, and if instantaneously and now, it follows, also, that it is to be obtained by faith, and from these premises the further conclusion is logically deducible, that we cannot make ourselves any better in order to receive it, but that we must take it as we are. And so we arrive at and adopt the pithy precept of John Wesley, "Expect it by faith--expect it as you are--expect it now." In these remarks we have necessarily anticipated some things which belong more accurately to the next chapter; but we are not seeking so much for a perfectly methodical arrangement, as for a clear and Scriptural presentation of the subject. And we proceed to affirm now that entire sanctification is not only essential as the condition of entering heaven, but that it is also necessary for the highest results of the Christian life on earth. It is not only an indispensable blessing to die by, but, if we would fulfill our Father's will in this world, it is indispensable to live by. But before leaving entirely the subject of growth in grace, having demonstrated, as we trust, that we can never grow into entire sanctification, we ought, perhaps, to explain what we mean by the statement that we can grow indefinitely in that precious grace after, and not before, we receive it. Entire sanctification has two sides or aspects. It has a positive side and a negative side. Its negative side is the removal of inbred sin, and is, therefore, a matter of subtraction. And herein, we may remark in passing, is a characteristic difference between entire sanctification and regeneration. The latter is a matter of addition, because it implies the impartation of a new life to the soul which has hitherto been "dead in trespasses and sins." Now in this negative aspect of entire sanctification there can be no growth. If a heart is pure it cannot be more pure. If it is free from sin it cannot be more free from sin. An empty vessel, as some one has said, cannot be more empty. There can be no increase in purity. But the positive side of entire sanctification is perfect love, and this is a relative expression. It does not mean that all who possess it must have an equal amount of love. Perfect love to each individual is just his own heart--not some one else's heart--being filled with love. One individual may have a greater capacity of loving than another, just as he may have a greater capacity of seeing or of working. Perfect love in a child would not be perfect love in a man; and perfect love in a man would not be perfect love in an angel. And perfect love may increase in the same individual so that what is perfect love today may not be perfect love to-morrow. As we commune with God and work with Him, as we get more and more acquainted with Christ and With the Holy Spirit, and see more of the infinite attractions of the Triune God, how is it possible that we should not love Him more and more? "There will never be a time in earth nor in Heaven," says the late Dr. Upham, "when there may not be an increase of holy love." On the positive side of entire sanctification, then, there may be and will be growth indefinitely and everlastingly. And this is the true growth in grace, about which much more could be said, but we leave it for the present, to resume our main theme of the necessity of entire sanctification in this life as well as the life to come. We make a definite statement as follows, viz: No Christian can do all that God would have him do, nor enjoy all that God would have him enjoy in this world, without the grace of entire sanctification. In the beautiful language of metaphor the Saviour says, "I am the true Vine and My Father is the husbandman. Every branch in Me that beareth not fruit He taketh away, and every branch in Me that beareth fruit He purgeth it that it may bring forth more fruit." And again, "Herein is My Father glorified that ye bear much fruit: so shall ye be My disciples." Now the abundant fruit requires for its production the abundant life, and these are both found in the Lord Jesus Christ. "I am come," says He, "that ye might have life (in regeneration) and that ye might have it more abundantly" (in entire sanctification). The abundant life and the abundant fruit, therefore, can only be found in connection with purity of heart. It is doubtless _true_ that every living branch, that is to say, every justified and regenerated believer, may and should and must, if he would retain his religion, bring forth some fruit. And it is precisely these branches that are bearing fruit, whom the Great Husbandman "purges"--sanctifies--that they may bring forth the more abundant fruit by which He Himself shall be glorified. And here we might rest our case with a Q. E. D., but another remark or two will be in place. The late Lord Tennyson could perceive, with the genius of a poet, the intimate connection between purity and power. He puts into the mouth of Sir Galahad, one of his heroes, these beautiful words, viz: "My strength is as the strength of ten, Because my heart is pure." Now one of the most common complaints among Christians of all denominations, is because of their weakness and their leanness. And yet nothing is clearer than that God has promised to make His people strong, that He has commanded them to be strong in the Lord, and that not to be strong is even blameworthy, not to say criminal in His sight. The reason, then, of our weakness and our leanness and the meagreness of our fruitage, can be nothing else than because we do not fulfill the conditions on which He promises to make us strong. One of these conditions, and an indispensable one, is that we be entirely sanctified. It is they that know their God, both in conversion and entire sanctification, both in pardon and purity, that shall "be strong and do exploits." Beloved, if you would accomplish the work that God has given you to do, and not have to regret its non-accomplishment in eternity, even if you are saved so as by fire, seek and find that which is the essential condition, and ask at once to be wholly sanctified. And if you would have the fullness of joy, even the joy of an uttermost salvation, the peace that passeth understanding, the fellowship with the Father and with His son, Jesus Christ, the sealing and anointing of the Spirit, the white stone and the new name, the abiding presence of the indwelling Comforter, then pray that the very God of Peace may here and now sanctify you wholly. Amen. CHAPTER II. ENTIRE SANCTIFICATION OBTAINABLE. This would seem to follow as a necessary corollary from what has been said in the preceding chapter. If entire sanctification has been proved to be not a matter of option but a matter of necessity; if we cannot attain to the highest results in Christian privilege, nor in Christian enjoyment, nor in Christian service without this blessed experience, and if, at the end, we cannot be admitted into the celestial city unless we possess it, surely we cannot doubt for a moment that our gracious Heavenly Father has provided a way by which this indispensable requisite both for time and for eternity may be received. But before discussing this proposition in detail let us have a clear understanding of what is meant by entire sanctification, and, as a preliminary, let us study a few simple theological definitions. In the first place, my reader will have no difficulty in believing that I fully accept the Arminian doctrine of the universality of the atonement. The sacrifice of Christ is sufficient for the salvation of all mankind, and its benefits are offered to all. "He tasted death for every man." But it does not follow that all men will be saved, and this for the reason that the atonement is not unconditional but conditional. It is offered to all, and all are invited and entreated to accept it. But it is available only in the case of those who believe. "He that believeth shall be saved, and he that believeth not shall be condemned." A universal atonement, therefore, does not by any means imply a universal salvation. Redemption is a term of broad and varied application. It is either general or special. In one sense it is as broad as atonement. Atonement is for sin; redemption is from sin and from all the sad results of sin. In its more special meaning it is applicable only to those who accept the atonement. For these it implies release from the bondage of the will under the law of sin and death, or justification and regeneration. It brings also release from the power and existence of depravity or entire sanctification. It promises, in the future, the complete glorification of the saints in body, soul and spirit at God's right hand, and the deliverance of the creation itself from the "bondage of corruption into the liberty of the glory of the children of God." The first condition on which the benefits of the atonement are offered to the sinner is repentance. Both the Saviour Himself and His forerunner began their public ministry with words of like import, viz: "Repent ye and believe the gospel." Repentance does not mean penance--not a voluntary sacrifice in our own will for an expiation of sin--nor is it merely sorrow for our past sins, although "godly sorrow" is one of the elements of true repentance. The sorrow of the world may produce remorse, that continual biting which tortures the soul of the lost; but remorse is not repentance, and the sorrow of the world worketh not life but death. True repentance involves a change of mind, a change of purpose, a change of will, and implies not only a godly sorrow for sin--sorrow not only because the sin has resulted in physical or mental or financial or reputational disaster--but because it has grieved the Spirit of our God; and it implies not only sorrow for our sin but the determination to forsake it as well. It is the afterthought, and involves both regret for what we have done and the purpose to do so no more. The next, and specially indispensable, condition for receiving the benefits of the atonement is faith. This means nothing more nor less than taking God at His word. We are assured that without faith it is impossible to please God, for he that cometh to God must believe "that He is, and that He is a rewarder of them that diligently seek Him." "Faith is the substance of things hoped for," because it makes them real. It is "the evidence of things not seen" because it convinces the mind of their actual existence. It is true that all men believe something, and, therefore, that all men have faith. It is not true that all men believe God, and, therefore, not true that all men have saving faith. And here we must make a distinction. Faith is often said to be the gift of God, and in the sense of the grace of faith, or the power of believing, this is true. But the act of faith is the actual exercise of the power of believing, which God has given us. It involves the putting forth of the choosing power of the human will, that we may accept the salvation which is offered us. God has given to us all the faith faculty, just as He has given to us the seeing faculty. In the one case, as in the other, we are responsible for the exercise of the faculty thus given. The proper object of the seeing faculty is the world around us, with all its multiplicity of existences. We may open our eyes and see or we may close them and fail to see. The proper object of the faith faculty is truth, and especially gospel truth, the truth of salvation through a crucified and risen Lord. We may exercise our believing power and accept this great salvation or we may close our faith-eyes, and fail to see and believe, and this to our eternal loss. For God commands us to believe and holds us responsible for obedience to that as to all other of His commands. The fact of the command involves the power to obey. Our will, therefore, our choosing power, must be put on the believing side, and not on the side of unbelief. It is not that we are required to believe without evidence. It is that our depraved hearts are not willing to believe when the evidence is ample. And, therefore, our eternal destiny is made to hinge on our obedience to the positive command, "Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ." The great and crying sin of our fallen humanity is unbelief. It is this that has sundered us, as a race, from our union with God, and it is faith which is to be the bond by which we may again be reunited to Him. "He that believeth not the Son is condemned already." Repentance and faith are the conditions on which God promises to give us the grace of justification. This is pardon for all our past sins. God, for Christ's sake, looks upon us as though we had not sinned. He accounts us just, for Jesus' sake, although we are not just in reality. And herein it is that gospel justification differs from legal justification. The individual who is accused of crime and who is brought into court and determined, by a jury of his peers, not to be guilty, is at once acquitted and released from all penalty. He is justified solely on the ground of his innocence. But no man ever has been or ever will be justified in the court of heaven on the ground of his innocence. Every responsible human being has broken the law of God. "All have sinned and come short of the glory of God." And none of those who have broken the law can be justified by the law, that is to say, not one. The law justifies those, and those only, who keep it. None of us have kept it, not one of the race of men save only the man Christ Jesus. The law condemns all those who break it. All the race of men have broken it save only the man Christ Jesus. Therefore, all are under condemnation. But condemnation is incompatible with justification. Therefore, again, "by the deeds of the law shall no flesh be justified." Are we not, then, in an absolutely hopeless condition? We should be so but for Christ. But, blessed be God, "He hath found a ransom." "All we like sheep have gone astray; we have turned every one to his own way, and the Lord hath laid on Him the iniquity of us all." Jesus Christ "Himself bore our sins in His own body on the tree." And so it comes to pass that we can be freely justified by His grace, not because of our innocency but because He bore the penalty in our stead. He took the place which was rightfully ours and that is on the cross. He procured for us the place which was and is rightfully His, and that is at God's right hand. He suffered what we deserved, and by that very suffering He made us partakers of what He deserves. Glory forever to His Holy Name! By the redemption that is in Christ Jesus, therefore, justice is satisfied, and the penalty of the broken law is removed. God is infinitely merciful, but He is also infinitely just. He loves the sinner with a boundless love, but He hates the sin with a boundless hate. He is of purer eyes than to behold iniquity, and will not look upon sin with the smallest degree of allowance. His mercy and His love may compassionate the sinner, but this will be of no avail so long as His justice is against him. "Shall not the Judge of all the earth do right?" But in the marvelous plan of salvation by a crucified and risen Lord, both the attributes of mercy and justice are enlisted on behalf of the sinner. The mercy of God pardons Him, the justice of God justifies Him, and all for Jesus' sake. "Mercy and truth have met together, righteousness and peace have kissed each other." "God can be just and the justifier of him that believeth in Jesus." "If we confess our sins He is faithful and just to forgive us our sins." And in accordance with the way of salvation which He Himself has devised, we can now plead with Him that He would be unjust not to forgive us when we have complied with these conditions. And so we arrive at the conclusion that justification is an act of God's grace by which our sins are pardoned for the sake of Jesus Christ. And this act is instantaneous. God does not pardon sins gradually, nor one at a time, nor by piecemeal, but to every one who repents and believes, He utters the gracious language, "Thy sins, which are many, are all forgiven thee." As if by a single stroke of the recording angel's pen, the whole dark record is blotted out forever. "As far as the east is from the west so far hath He removed our transgressions from us." Glory. Regeneration is a work of grace which always accompanies justification. God does not justify a sinner without, at the same time, giving him a new life. This new life is a spiritual life imparted to the soul, which before was dead in trespasses and sins, by the Divine energy of the Holy Ghost. If a sinner should be pardoned, without, at the same time, receiving a new nature, he would inevitably fall into sin again. His lifetime on earth would be spent in sinning and repenting. But our merciful Father having for Christ's sake looked upon him as just and righteous, when he was not so in reality, now bestows upon him a new nature which is just and righteous. He makes him a partaker, indeed, of the Divine nature, and that is a nature which is holy and just and good. And this is the new birth. Men may be full of physical life and of intellectual life, but until they are born from above they are totally destitute of spiritual life. Regeneration, therefore, is that act of God's grace by which we are born again. Adoption is the reception of the newly justified and regenerated believer into the family of God. No longer enemies, nor even strangers and foreigners, those who have accepted Christ as their Saviour, now receive the adoption of sons. They become the children of God by faith in Jesus Christ. This is their pedigree and they rejoice to declare it. A human governor or ruler may pardon a guilty criminal, and grant him a reprieve, but he never takes him into his own family. He may forgive the guilty one, but he cannot bestow upon him a new nature, nor can he consent to recognize him as a brother or a son. But God not only remits the sins of those whom He saves, He not only delivers them from wrath and from punishment, but He gives them a new nature by which they can respond to His love, and He takes them into His own household as children and heirs, yea, as joint heirs with Jesus Christ. "Ye are all the children of God by faith in Jesus Christ." The witness of the Spirit is something not easily defined, but it is well known by those who experience it. It is an impression or consciousness wrought into the mind of the believer by the Holy Ghost, which gives him the satisfactory assurance that he is a child of God. Before this, he believes, now he knows. This witness, therefore, expels doubt and infuses into the heart of the new-born child of God, a calm, definite and indisputable persuasion that all is now right between himself and his Heavenly Father. "The Spirit Himself beareth witness with our spirit that we are the children of God." "Ye have received the Spirit of adoption, whereby we cry, Abba, Father." "And because ye are sons, God hath sent forth the Spirit of His Son into your hearts, crying, Abba, Father." Now the graces that have been mentioned, namely, justification, regeneration, adoption and the witness of the Spirit, are all received co-instantaneously. They always accompany each other, and whoever has one of them has them all. The witness of the Spirit, it is true, is not always a constant experience. It may be intermittent, but, nevertheless, whenever it is present, it accompanies or attends the other experiences to which we have alluded. And we may add that all these graces are but different aspects of the same salvation and are properly and conveniently designated, in common language, by the single term conversion, which term, therefore, must be understood to include and imply justification, regeneration, adoption and the witness of the Spirit. It is proper, also, in this connection to remark that conversion is always a definite and instantaneous event, and never a prolonged process. Just so certainly as every human being that comes into this world has a definite, natural birthday, so every one that comes into the kingdom of God has a definite, spiritual birthday. Some people do not know when their natural birthday occurs, nevertheless, they know that they have been born. Some Christians do not know when their spiritual birthday occurs. Nevertheless, they know that they have been born again. Conversion is the crossing of a definite line out of Satan's kingdom into God's kingdom. There is no half-way ground, there is no neutral territory, there is no place where a man can truthfully say, I am neither converted nor unconverted. One moment he is out of the ark of safety, the next moment he is in it. Entire sanctification is an act of God's grace by which inbred sin is removed and the heart made holy. Inbred sin or inherited depravity is the inward cause of which our outward sins are the effects. It is the bitter root of which actual sins are the bitter fruits. It is the natural evil tendency of the human heart in our fallen condition. It is the being of sin which lies back of the doing of sin. It is that within us which says No, to God, and Yes, to Satan. It exists in every human being that comes into the world as a bias or proclivity to evil. It is called in the New Testament, the flesh, the body of sin, our old man, sin that dwelleth in me, and the simple term sin in the singular number. In the Old Testament it is called sin and iniquity. "Behold," says David, "I was shapen in iniquity and in sin did my mother conceive me." And when the Seraph brought the live coal and laid it upon the mouth of Isaiah, the prophet, his words were, "Lo, this hath touched thy lips and thine iniquity is taken away and thy sin purged." Now all Christian denominations are agreed as to the real existence of this inbred sin and also as to the fact that it is not removed at conversion. "This infection of nature doth remain," says the Anglican Confession, "yea, even in them that have been regenerated." Most church creeds, indeed, give no reason to expect, and most Christian believers do not expect to be rid of sin till near or in the hour of death. And it is regarded as serious heresy in some quarters for a man to either preach or claim that the blood of Jesus Christ does really cleanse from all sin. But God has in every age and in every dispensation required His children to be holy. And to be holy signifies the destruction or removal of inbred sin, nothing more and nothing less and nothing else than that. How this is accomplished will be discussed further on, but here we say that the removal of innate depravity is entire sanctification, and that God has most surely made provision in the atonement of Jesus Christ for the removal of innate depravity. Therefore, He has made provision for entire sanctification, and, therefore again, this wondrous grace is obtainable. Inbred sin goes back to the fall of man in the garden of Eden. If not as old as the human race, it is at least as old as the fall. Since sin entered through the beguiling of our mother, Eve, by the serpent, inbred sin has existed as a unit of evil in every child of Adam and Eve. The only exception is the man, Christ Jesus, the God man, the Divine man, the promised seed that should bruise the serpent's head. But as He, the Lord Jesus Christ, was manifested to destroy the works of the devil, and as inbred sin is one of the works of the devil, therefore its destruction is provided for in the atonement, and, therefore, still again, entire sanctification is obtainable. The simplest meaning of the word sanctify is to separate or to devote to sacred uses. It has this signification nearly always in the Old Testament and in a few passages in the New. In other words, whatever is consecrated is sanctified in this limited sense. But from the primary meaning is easily derived its secondary and prominent meaning, of separation from all sin, inward as well as outward, and this is what Paul calls being sanctified wholly. It is entire sanctification as distinguished from partial sanctification. This latter appertains to all Christians, and is technically so used in the New Testament. The former is the experience of those, and those only, from whom inbred sin has been removed. CHAPTER III. ENTIRE SANCTIFICATION IN PATRIARCHAL TIMES. For the first twenty-five centuries after the creation of man, he was without a written law. So far, at least, as the descendants of Seth are concerned, the government, during those early times, seems to have been patriarchal. The father of a family retained his authority over his children and his children's children so long as he lived, and when he died, the branch families did not separate, but continued their allegiance to some other patriarch, usually the eldest son of the former. A number of families under their respective patriarchs constituted a tribe, and from the family patriarchs was selected a prince for the whole tribe. Among the antediluvian patriarchs were Adam, Seth, Enoch and Noah. Those after the flood were Noah, Abraham, Isaac, Jacob and each of the twelve sons of Jacob. After Jacob's death, it is most likely that Joseph acted, in some sense, as the prince of the tribe during his lifetime. Then came slavery and oppression and deliverance through Moses, and the giving of the law. As God's revelation to man has been progressive, first just a few faint streaks of light that usher in the dawn, then broad daylight and sunrise, and finally the meridian splendor of the noontide, we are not to expect, in these early times, the full and distinct teaching on the subject of holiness, which we find in the Mosaic law, in the writings of the prophets, and especially and super-eminently in the New Testament. The word holy does not occur in the book of Genesis, and the word sanctify is found only once, where Jehovah blessed the seventh day and sanctified it. And yet there are, even in these patriarchal times, several narratives of extreme interest, which give us glimpses, at least, of the purpose of God that His people should be holy, and we even find intimations of His method of sanctification, by conferring it as a second experience upon His already saved children, as is so clearly revealed in the New Testament. "And Enoch walked with God; and he was not, for God took him." Such is the record in Genesis, but when we turn to the eleventh of Hebrews, the faith chapter, we find that "by faith Enoch was translated that he should not see death; and was not found because God had translated him, for; before his translation, he had this testimony that he pleased God." Now, if Enoch, even amid the wickedness of antediluvian ages, walked with God and pleased God, and was translated that he should not see death, there surely can be no reasonable doubt that he was a holy man, an entirely sanctified man, and hence one whose sins had been washed away in the blood of the lamb, that was "slain from the foundation of the world." "Noah was a just man and perfect in his generations; and Noah walked with God." The prophet Amos exclaims most pertinently, "Can two walk together unless they be agreed?" It is certain, therefore, that God and Noah were agreed, but God, who is infinitely pure and holy, can never be agreed with any person or anything that is unholy. Hence, whatever may be the proper signification of the word perfect, as applied to God's children in Old Testament times, we can scarcely avoid the conclusion that Noah was a holy man, an entirely sanctified man, and this notwithstanding his subsequent error in regard to drinking too much wine, of whose ill effects we may, charitably, suppose he may have been, up to the time of this sad experience, ignorant. Abraham dwelt with his father, Terah, who was an idolater, in Ur of the Chaldees, when he received the call of God to go entirely away from his kindred and his father's house, and depart into a land of separation, a land which the Lord would show him. He obeyed the call, and this typifies conversion. He went out not knowing whither he went, but only knowing that the Lord was leading him. At his first move, he was accompanied by his father. And he came out of his native land, it is true, but not yet into the promised land. "He came to Haran and dwelt there," or to give the record in full, "And Terah took Abraham, his son, and Lot, the son of Haran, his son's son, and Sarai, his daughter-in-law, his son Abram's wife, and they went forth with them from Ur of the Chaldees, to go into the land of Canaan; and they came unto Haran and dwelt there." Continuing the account in his dying oration, the martyr Stephen says, "And from thence when his father was dead, he removed him into this land, wherein ye now dwell," but in Genesis the statement is, "And Abram took Sarai, his wife, and Lot, his brother's son, and all their substance that they had gathered, and the souls that they had gotten in Haran, and they went forth to go into the land of Canaan, and into the land of Canaan they came." The last tie of nature was sundered when the old man died, and then Abram took the second step, which brought him into the promised land. There are two distinct stages in his experience before he reached the place, which God designed him to occupy. And these we may as well regard as typical, if nothing more, of the first experience under the gospel--that of regeneration--and of the second experience as well, which is entire sanctification. In the history of Abraham, a very beautiful and mysterious episode occurs, and that is the story of his transient but highly important meeting with Melchizedek, after his successful expedition against the kings, who had despoiled Sodom and carried away his nephew, Lot. The sacred narrative is as follows, viz.: "And Melchizedek, king of Salem, brought forth bread and wine, and he was the priest of the Most High God. And he blessed him and said, Blessed be Abram of the Most High God, possessor of heaven and earth; and blessed be the Most High God, which hath delivered thine enemies into thine hand. And he gave him tithes of all." No other mention is made of Melchizedek until David writes the 110th Psalm, and this was nearly one thousand years after Abraham. The Psalmist writing by inspiration, and alluding beyond all reasonable doubt to the Messiah, says, "The Lord hath sworn and will not repent, Thou art a priest forever after the order of Melchizedek." And then, again, the inspired record drops Melchizedek out of sight, as it were, for another thousand years, and then once more brings him to the front in the Epistle to the Hebrews, where he is described in glowing language as "first being by interpretation King of righteousness, and after that, also, King of Salem, which is king of peace; without father, without mother, without genealogy (R. V.) having neither beginning of days nor end of life, but made like unto the son of God, abideth a priest continually." Comparing, then, the different allusions to this most remarkable personage, the following inferences seem fairly deducible therefrom: (1) Melchizedek, being made like unto the Son of God, is preeminently the Old Testament type of the Lord Jesus Christ in his kingly and priestly offices. Both Melchizedek and Christ are priests, and yet the former is not of the chosen family. He is a Canaanite. He is, unquestionably, greater than Abraham. Of his origin, his ancestry and his descendants, we have no account. He brought forth bread and wine. So did his antitype at the Last Supper. The priesthood of Melchizedek was before that of Aaron. Aaron was a Levite, and Levi paid tithes to Melchizedek in Abraham, his ancestor. And the author of the Epistle to the Hebrews argues most conclusively that since Melchizedek was without beginning or end, and greater than Abraham, and with a priesthood that existed centuries before the Levitical priesthood was instituted, therefore Christ, his great antitype, who is from everlasting to everlasting, and who hath an unchangeable priesthood, is to abolish the Aaronic priesthood, whose institution was for a temporary purpose, and was fulfilled when Christ came, who was a priest not after the order of Aaron because He belonged to another tribe, but a priest forever after the order of Melchizedek. But Melchizedek was not only a priest, he was also a king. And it was not only in his everlasting priesthood, but in his regal office also, that he was a type of the Messiah. David was a prophet and a king, Ezekiel was a prophet and a priest, Jesus, only, combined in His own person the three offices of prophet, priest and king. Now, if Melchizedek was priest of the Most High God, if he was greater than Abraham, if he was a type of Jesus Christ in His kingly and priestly offices, it is impossible not to regard him as a holy man. He was cleansed from all sin. He was sanctified wholly. He was made like unto the Son of God, and the Son of God is eternally holy. Praise His name. It is, surely, cause of devout thankfulness, that even in those primitive and patriarchal times, when the earth was full of wickedness and violence, that even then God had His witnesses to experimental and practical holiness. Before leaving this point of the eternal priesthood of Christ, let me remark that it was a sad day for His Church when the idea became prevalent, that ministers of the gospel are in any official sense to be regarded as priests. This serious error may have been derived, in part, from Judaism and, in part, from paganism. It has become incorporated in the creed of the Roman Catholic Church, and the Greek Church as well, and has been productive of the most disastrous results. Among the deliverances of the Council of Trent, held at intervals from 1545 to 1564, and the last Council, which Romish authorities regard as of binding authority, are the following sentences, quoted by the late A. A. Hodge, in his Outlines of Theology: "Whereas, therefore, in the New Testament, the Catholic Church has received, from the institution of Christ, the holy, visible sacrifice of the Eucharist; it must needs, also, be confessed that there is, in that church, a new, visible and external priesthood, into which the old has been translated. And the sacred Scriptures show, and the traditions of the Catholic Church have always taught, that this priesthood was instituted by the same Lord, our Saviour, and that to the apostles, and their successors in the priesthood, was the power delivered of consecrating, offering and administering his body and blood, as, also, of forgiving and retaining sins." It is to be feared that not all Protestants are entirely clear of this same idea of the priesthood of the ministry, and that, in thought, at least, many substitute this for the true priesthood, which appertains to all believers. Now, the office of a priest is to stand between God and man. He mediates, and this Jesus did both by propitiation and continues to do, forever, by intercession. "He ever liveth to make intercession for us." He "offered one sacrifice for sins forever." If He has an unchangeable priesthood, and has already offered Himself as a sacrifice, sufficient for the sins of all mankind, the benefits of which each and every one may obtain on the simple condition of repentance and faith, what possible need can there be of any human priesthood to come between God and the sinner? Says George Fox, "Friends, let nothing come between your souls and God, but Christ," and we say Amen. To sum up on this particular point, we may say that the ancient priesthood, both of Melchizedek, the Gentile, and of Aaron, the Jew, with his descendants, were nothing more than types; and a type can have no real existence after the antitype has come. Therefore, there is no place for a human priesthood under the Christian dispensation. We are taught in Holy Scripture that no one can come to God except through Christ, but we are also taught that all are invited, and all may come directly to Him. All the officers belonging to the New Testament Church, whether ministers, deacons, presbyters, bishops, elders, or even apostles, are described not as priests but "messengers, watchmen, heralds of salvation, teachers, rulers, overseers and shepherds." Their function is to preach the word, to teach, to rule, but never to mediate. It is clear, therefore, that ministers as such are not priests. But we must not forget that, in a very important sense, all Christians are priests. But this is through Christ and in Christ, the one great and eternal High Priest. They are priests because they are in Christ. And not only priests, but kings as well. And not only kings and priests, but prophets as well. All these blessed privileges are theirs, solely by virtue of their union and fellowship with Christ, who, in a mystical and spiritual sense, makes them to be partakers of His own priesthood, His own royalty, and His own prophetic office. Thus we hear Peter exclaiming, under the inspiration of the Spirit, "But ye are a chosen generation, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a peculiar people." And again: "Ye also, as lively stones, are built up, a spiritual house, an holy priesthood, to offer up spiritual sacrifices acceptable to God by Jesus Christ." Precisely. If we are priests, we must perform the functions of a priest, and one of these functions is the offering of sacrifice. What, then, are the sacrifices which are to be offered by the Christian Priest? Certainly, not any expiatory or meritorious sacrifices. These are, forever, precluded by the fact that Christ hath offered one sacrifice for sins forever. Nothing can be added to, and nothing can be subtracted from, that infinite and all-sufficient offering. The first sacrifice to be made by the Christian priest is the surrender of his own body, with all its appetites, organs and capabilities, to God. Listen to Paul. "I beseech you, therefore, brethren, by the mercies of God, that ye present your bodies a living sacrifice, holy, acceptable unto God, which is your reasonable service." Your bodies, because if you are Christians, you have already presented your hearts; your bodies, because through the body, too often temptation enters into the soul and leads it to actual sin. Your bodies, because of their wonderful mechanism and their equally wonderful activities. If surrendered to the Lord, He makes them the very thing they were originally designed to be, namely, the obedient servants of the soul, and the soul is already His own obedient servant, so that when the soul commands and the body obeys, both are working for God, and when the soul says Go, and the body runs hither and thither, both are going upon God's errands. It will be observed that the body is to be presented a living sacrifice, not a dead one. All its boundless activities are to be given up to God. The expression, no doubt, implies that the whole man, described by the apostle, with his inspired trichotomy, as spirit, soul and body are to be consecrated unto God, to be His, and His forever, and henceforth to be ready to be, to do, and to suffer all His blessed will. The command is yield yourselves, not a certain portion of your time, nor a certain portion of your money, nor a certain portion of your effort, nor your sins, nor your depraved appetites, nor your forbidden indulgences. You cannot consecrate your alcohol, nor your tobacco, nor your opium, nor your card-playing, nor your dancing, nor your theatre-going to God. He wants none of these things. All actual and known sins must be abandoned at conversion. Consecration is for a subsequent and a deeper work. None but a Christian believer can thus present his body unto the Lord. Sinners may repent, but Christians are enjoined to "yield themselves unto God, as those who are alive from the dead;" not as those who are "dead in trespasses and sins." Whatever surrender the sinner may and must make in order to be saved, the believer must make a deeper, fuller, more complete surrender, of a different character and for a different purpose. That purpose is that he may be wholly sanctified, filled with the Spirit, and used to the utmost extent of his capacity for the glory of God. Consecration means yielding yourselves unto God. When you yield yourself you yield everything else. All the details are included in the one surrender of yourself. And remember, also, that your consecration is not to God's service, not to His work, not to a life of obedience and sacrifice, not to the church, not to the Christian Endeavor, not to the Epworth League, not to any organization, not to the cause of God; it is to God Himself. "Yield yourselves unto God." It is, therefore, a personal transaction between a personal human being and a personal God. Your work, your obedience, your sacrifice, your right place and your allotted duty, will all follow in due time. The next sacrifice to be made by the Christian priest, is that of testimony and thanksgiving. "By Him, therefore," says the author of the Hebrews, "let us offer the sacrifice of praise to God continually, that is, the fruit of our lips, giving thanks to His Name." And the next priestly offering of the Christian is a holy life, for the inspired author goes on in the next verse, "But to do good, and to communicate forget not; for with such sacrifices God is well pleased." Offer, then, beloved, the body, with the soul and spirit; offer the fruit of the lips and offer the fruit of the life, and you will walk worthily of your priesthood. Glory! The patriarch Jacob had two distinct and well-defined experiences about twenty years apart. The first of these was at Bethel, when, in loneliness and anguish of mind, he was plodding on his way toward Mesopotamia to escape the vengeance of his brother Esau. This vengeance was not causeless, and Jacob lay down upon the ground with a stone for a pillow, not only distressed in mind from fear and anxiety, but also, we may well suppose, not altogether free from the condemnation of a guilty conscience. But Jacob was a man who had faith in God's promises, even if he did not always obey His commands. And when he lay down to sleep under the open sky, in a state of mind, sad, forlorn, fearful and contrite, God was watching over him, and when he awoke from the wondrous vision there vouchsafed to him, he perceived that God was in the place, and he found that he himself, also, was a new man. Now he could not only believe intellectually what God had said, but he could and did enter into covenant with Him, taking Jehovah for his God, and vowing the tenth or his income to be given to Him. This was such a change of mind and heart as constituted a real conversion. When, after the many mercies and many trials that fell to his portion whilst dwelling with his uncle Laban, and after the lapse of two score years, he was returning to his father's house, no longer poor and lonely, but with flocks and herds and wives and children, again he was encountered by the fear of his brother Esau who was approaching him with four hundred men. Then it was that there "wrestled a man with him until the breaking of the day." Note it was the man wrestling with Jacob--and the man was the angel,--Jehovah, the pre-existent Christ--and the object of his wrestling was to get the Jacob nature, the old man, the body of sin, out of Jacob. But Jacob resisted, until by a touch the Divine wrestler made it impossible for him to resist any longer. Now he had to cease his wrestling but he could still cling, and he could still cry, "I will not let thee go until thou bless me." Jacob's will was now firmly set upon the blessing; he could ho longer resist the will of the Blesser, but one thing more he had to do, and that was to tell his name. I am Jacob--supplanter, sinner, and then He blessed him there; Jabbok means extinguishment, and Jacob's self-life was extinguished there. He told his name, and in the telling lost it. No longer the supplanter--but Israel, the prince, the prevailer, the overcomer, and Israel was now a wholly sanctified man. Beloved, tell God your name--sinner--seek with fixed determination for the blessing of holiness, fulfill the conditions, and you also shall prevail, and your name will be changed from sinner to saint, priest, prophet, king, having the blessing of entire sanctification, and the Blesser Himself in the person of the Indwelling Comforter. Praise the Lord! CHAPTER IV. ENTIRE SANCTIFICATION IN TYPE. The Mosaic dispensation was legal, ceremonial and typical. "The law having a shadow of the good things to come," says the author of the Hebrews. But a shadow always points to a substance; and so far as holiness is commanded, and so far as it is shadowed forth in the ceremonial law, we shall find that there is a corresponding substance and reality in the gospel of Christ. In the first place, if we study carefully the provisions of the Mosaic law, we shall be struck with the many forms of ceremonial uncleanness described therein, and with the "divers washings," not only of the "hands oft," but of the whole body, and of "cups and pots, brazen vessels and of tables." All these point to the fact that God will have a clean people, and a clean people is a holy people. The same thing is vividly exhibited in the distinction between clean and unclean animals, the one kind to be used as food, and the other to be disused. Of land animals, only such as both chew the end and divide the hoof, might then be eaten. And of aquatic, only such as have both fins and scales were to be accounted clean. There can be no doubt that this restriction in regard to food is full of meaning. God help us all as Christian believers to distinguish between the clean and the unclean in a spiritual sense, and not to forget that God will have His people now pure in heart, clean in soul, holy both within and without. The seal of the covenant with Abraham was circumcision, and this became the perpetual rite by which his descendants were admitted to the rights and privileges of that covenant. "Every male child shall be circumcised." But this rite was an outward symbol of "a circumcision not made with hands, in the putting off of the body of the flesh, in the circumcision of Christ" (Col. 2: II. R.V.) And in Romans 2: 28-29, we are told that "He is not a Jew, which is one outwardly; neither is that circumcision which is outward in the flesh; but he is a Jew which is one inwardly; and circumcision is that of the heart, in the spirit, and not in the letter; whose praise is not of men but of God." Beloved reader, may you and I know what it is to experience the inward circumcision, made without hands, even the putting off of the body of the flesh. And this is entire sanctification. In the consecration of Aaron and his sons to the priests' office, not only were they to be adorned with holy garments for glory and for beauty, not only was the breast-plate to be set with twelve kinds of precious stones, but the plate for the mitre was to be made of pure gold, and engraved with the motto "Holiness to the Lord." This was to be always upon the forehead of the High Priest, and must signify that Aaron was to be the holy priest of a Holy God, and that the law required a continuous holiness, as most assuredly the gospel does also. Now, in the most important sense both the priesthood and the sacrifices were typical of Christ. In the mediatorial work of redemption, he was both the priest and the victim. He offered Himself. And no one will deny that He was holy, harmless, undefiled and separate from sinners. The holy priest, under the law typified the holy priest, who is a priest forever after the order of Melchizedek. But under the gospel dispensation all Christians are priests. "But ye are a chosen generation, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a peculiar people." And we are priests, not for the purpose of expiation, for expiation was completed by the Lord Jesus Christ, when He "bore our sins in His own body on the tree," but priests to offer up "spiritual sacrifices acceptable to God through Jesus Christ." And every such priest must needs be continuously holy. The "spiritual sacrifices" which the Christian priest must offer are, as previously stated, (1) his body, with all its members and capacities. The heart was given to Christ at conversion. It is, however, largely through the body that the soul is led into sin, and it is through the body, also, that the soul must perform its work for Christ, so long as soul and body are united in probation. Hence, the Apostle exclaims in the twelfth of Romans, "I beseech you, therefore, brethren, by the mercies of God that ye present your bodies a living sacrifice, holy, acceptable unto God, which is your reasonable service." The Christian must offer (2) also his continual testimony. He must "hold fast the confession of his faith without wavering." "By him, therefore, let us offer the sacrifices of praise to God continually, that is, the fruit of our lips giving thanks to His name." And, finally (3), the Christian priest must offer the sacrifice of a holy life. "But to do good, and to communicate forget not, for with such sacrifices God is well pleased." Beloved, let us ask ourselves if we are constantly offering as a holy priesthood, a consecrated body, a confessing tongue and a godly life. Amen. This subject has already been alluded to under a different head, but it will bear repetition. In the ceremonial used under the law for the cleansing of the leper, we find an impressive type or symbol of holiness. Leprosy is most clearly and strikingly a type of inbred sin. It is loathsome, unclean, incurable, fatal and hereditary. The leper was driven from society; he could not dwell in the camp nor in the city. He was an outcast. None must be permitted to approach him. They must be warned off by the despairing cry "unclean, unclean." Nothing can be conceived more desolate or more hopeless than the condition of the leper, unless it be, indeed, the sinner who is an "alien from the commonwealth of Israel, a stranger to the covenants of promise, having no hope and without God in the world." But to the leper, in many instances, came the glad "day of cleansing." He might not come into the camp, until the priest went forth to him. The priest and no one else could pronounce him clean. And none but Christ has any authority to tell the sinner that he is converted, or the believer that he is sanctified. A clean bird must be slain over living water, another bird dipped into this water flies away toward heaven with bloody wing; the leper is sprinkled seven times, to denote the completeness or perfection of his cleansing, with blood by means of hyssop and scarlet wool bound to a stick of cedar; he must wash his clothes; he must pass a razor over his whole body, and bathe the whole body likewise in water. Certainly, all this needs no explanation. Surely, here is atonement by blood, and cleansing by the washing of water through the word, as plainly described as symbolic language can utter it. All the bloody sacrifices of the Jewish law, the daily sacrifice both morning and evening, the paschal lamb, the Day of Atonement, the offerings at the various feasts, and innumerable sacrifices offered for individuals or for the whole people, the guilt offering, the sin offering, one for what we have done, the other for what we are, the peace offering, the burnt offering, these, also, all point to the Lamb that was slain from the foundation of the world. In all the sacrifices which we have named, a life was taken and blood was shed. "Almost all things are, by the law, purged with blood, and without shedding of blood is no remission." But turn now to the New Testament, and read that "It is not possible for the blood of bulls and goats to take away sins." Read again, "If the blood of bulls and goats, and the ashes of an heifer sprinkling the unclean sanctifieth to the purifying of the flesh, how much more shall the blood of Christ, who through the eternal Spirit offered Himself without spot to God, purge your conscience from dead works to serve the living God." Read again, "In Him we have redemption through His blood"--"Having made peace through the blood of His cross"--"Ye who are far off are made nigh by the blood of Christ"--"Being now justified by His blood"--"That He might sanctify the people with His own blood"--and especially "The blood of Jesus Christ, His Son, cleanseth us from all sin." Here, I insert a quotation from that saintly man, Dr. Edgar M. Levy. "When an oblation for sin was offered up under the old dispensation, the priest was commanded to dip his finger in blood, and to sprinkle it seven times before the Lord. This denoted the perfection of the offering. Nor would the blessed antitype come short of the type. Seven times, at least, did our Lord pour forth His precious blood. He was circumcised and there, of necessity, was blood. He was buffeted on the mouth, and by such brutal hands, that this must needs have been attended with blood. He was scourged, and from Roman scouring there was, of course, blood. The crown of thorns was driven into His precious temples and, surely, this was not without blood. The sharp nails penetrated into His hands and feet, and again there was blood. And one of the soldiers, with a spear, pierced His side, and forthwith came thereout blood and water." The blood of Jesus, then, is the procuring cause of our sanctification as it is of our justification. Glory be to His Name forever for the precious, cleansing blood. And every Christian can heartily join in the immortal hymn of Toplady on the "Rock of Ages," and especially with the rendering now frequently given to the conclusion of the first stanza, viz.: "Let the water and the blood From Thy wounded side which flowed, Be of sin the double cure Save from wrath--and make me pure." The pure olive oil is mentioned many times in Scripture, and was used for a great variety of purposes. In typology, however, it has special reference to the office work of the Holy Spirit. He is distinctively the Sanctifier, and to be filled with the Spirit is designated by the Apostle John as "the unction" or "the anointing." The holy anointing oil was to be sprinkled upon the tabernacle and all its sacred vessels. It was also poured upon the heads of prophets, priests and kings, as a necessary qualification for the discharge of their respective offices. There can be no doubt but that this use of the anointing oil and the sweet perfume, which none were permitted to imitate or counterfeit, has a direct typical reference to holiness. The sacred writer, indeed, says as much. "That they may be most holy; whatsoever toucheth them shall be holy." And as all Christians are kings and priests unto God, it is necessary that they also be anointed with the Holy Spirit, as their types in the Old Testament dispensation were anointed with the outward oil. "Be ye clean that bear the vessels of the Lord." A priest must be holy. We have already spoken of leprosy as a type of inbred sin, and of the requirement of blood-shedding in the cleansing of the leper. But before that cleansing was complete, the anointing oil, also, was to be applied to the leper, who was healed of his malady. As the priest had already touched his ear, his thumb and his toe with the blood of the sacrifice, so now he touched the same parts also with the oil. First, the blood; afterwards, the oil. And thus it is in the wondrous plan of salvation through the Lord Jesus Christ. First, atonement for guilt and to secure pardon; afterwards, the Holy Ghost baptism for complete cleansing. First, justification through the blood; then entire sanctification through the Spirit. The anointing oil was also to be applied to the ear, the thumb and the toe of Aaron and his sons in their consecration to the priesthood and, finally, poured upon their mitred heads that it might reach the beard and the skirts of the garments, but by no means touch the flesh. And so, beloved, we must be touched with blood and oil as to our spiritual ears, that we may take heed how we hear and what we hear; and as to our hands that they may do the work of God in all righteousness, and goodness and truth; and as to our feet, that they may run swiftly and beautifully upon the errands of redeeming love; and, at last, upon our heads and running down overall the person to purify and energize the whole man, that we may be "ever, only, all for Him." Praise the Lord. And this can never happen while the flesh, the carnal mind, is still alive. Jesus Christ Himself, the Son of God and the Son of Man, He who was holy, harmless, undefiled and separate from sinners, was, nevertheless, anointed with the Holy Ghost as a needful qualification for His mediatorial work. In the synagogue at Nazareth, He read part of the sixty-first chapter of Isaiah. "The Spirit of the Lord God is upon me: because the Lord hath anointed Me to preach good tidings unto the meek; He had sent Me to bind up the broken-hearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives, and the opening of the prison to them that are bound; to proclaim the acceptable year of the Lord"--and here He ceased His quotation abruptly, without saying a word about "the day of vengeance of our God." It was now a day of grace, not a day of vengeance. But to those who will not accept this grace, that terrible day of vengeance will surely come. Jesus was anointed, and He was holy. His anointed followers must also be holy. They must seek and find the baptism with the Holy Ghost and fire, they must be sanctified wholly. To be baptized, and filled and anointed with the Holy Ghost is the privilege and duty of all God's children. If we would belong to the royal priesthood, we must be cleansed from the defilement of sin. Finally, we will allude to the fire symbol. Gold is spoken of in Scripture as tried in the fire. So of silver. "He" (Christ) "shall sit as a refiner and purifier of silver." The precious metals will endure the fire, but "dross and tin," as well as reprobate silver, will and must be consumed. The baptism with the Holy Ghost and with fire is a sin-consuming baptism. Fire is a great purifier. It makes the substance which is subjected to it pure through and through, and not like anything cleansed by water, pure as to its surface only. "Our God is a consuming fire." Oh, beloved, let us give up to the fire all that is for the fire. Let all depravity, all inbred sin, all tendency to depart from God and yield to Satan, be burned up in this fiery baptism. May God put upon all His pardoned children not the blood-mark only, but the fire-mark also. CHAPTER V. ENTIRE SANCTIFICATION IN PROPHECY. The Major Prophets are Isaiah, Jeremiah, Ezekiel and Daniel. The twelve prophetic books in the Old Testament following the book of Daniel are called the Minor Prophets. In the writings of both classes we find many allusions and predictions as to the entire sanctification of believers in the gospel dispensation and under the reign of Messiah or Christ. The sixth chapter of Isaiah is usually regarded as his call to the prophetic office. Whether this be so or not, it records a very wonderful experience of that grand man, and a remarkable type of the baptism with the Holy Ghost as described in the book of Acts. It is quite evident that Isaiah was a converted man before he wrote his first chapter. In that he laments the sins of the Israelites and the Jews, all of them God's chosen people, though now divided into the two kingdoms and these often at variance, shows the utter futility of their own efforts to regain the favor of God, by observances and sacrifices and ceremonies, and then tells them how to be converted as plainly as any gospel minister in our own day would be able to do. He shows them that the way of salvation is by repentance and faith, and by trusting to the unmerited mercy of God. Hear him: "Wash you, make you clean; put away the evil of your doings from before mine eyes; cease to do evil; learn to do well; seek judgment; relieve the oppressed; judge the fatherless; plead for the widow. Come now, and let us reason together, saith the Lord; though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they be red like crimson, they shall be as wool." Here are repentance and amendment of life and pardon, the washing away of guilt and committed sins, symbolical of the New Testament washing of regeneration, symbolical also of John's baptism of repentance unto the remission of sins. But now in the sixth chapter, and "in the year that king Uzziah died," a wondrous vision of the pre-existent Christ, "sitting upon a throne high and lifted up" and the seraphim crying one to another "Holy, holy, holy is the Lord of hosts," was vouchsafed to the prophet. And the first effect of the glorious things which he saw and heard was not to exalt him and minister to his pride, but to fill him with despair at his own depravity. He felt just as Peter did at the first miraculous draught of fishes on the Sea of Galilee, when he exclaimed "Depart from me for I am a sinful man, O Lord." Ah! beloved, it never fosters spiritual pride, nor any other kind of pride to get a nearer and clearer view of Christ than we ever had before. Quite the contrary. Such a vision turns us towards our inner selves, and enables us to behold by contrast the darkness and sinfulness and pollution of our own souls, and in such a view we shall find food for the deepest humiliation, but nothing to nourish pride. Accordingly, Isaiah exclaimed in agony of soul "Woe is me! for I am undone; because I am a man of unclean lips, and I dwell in the midst of a people of unclean lips; for mine eyes have seen the King, the Lord of hosts." If we may credit Jewish tradition, it was for the offence of saying that he had seen the King, the Lord of hosts, that the prophet was afterwards sawn asunder. But the record of the glorious vision is still preserved and will, no doubt, be blessed to millions of readers in the future, as in the past, and until the end of the age. But the seraph was sent to touch the "unclean lips" of Isaiah--unclean because of innate depravity, and unclean notwithstanding he had probably been preaching repentance and amendment of life and forgiveness for two or three years before this wondrous experience--to touch them with holy fire. And then he was assured not that his sins of commission and omission were forgiven--that had been done before--but that his iniquity was taken away, and his (inbred) sin purged. This was a second and a definite experience, and strikingly emblematic of the baptism with the Holy Ghost and fire under the gospel dispensation, which is also accompanied by "the purifying of the heart by faith," or entire sanctification. How wondrous are the prophecies of Isaiah after this experience. He seems to look down the centuries for seven hundred years and to see the glorious blessings of the gospel dispensation almost as clearly as if they were already present. Hear him in the thirty-fifth chapter: "And an highway shall be there and a way; and it shall be called the way of holiness; the unclean shall not pass over it; but it shall be for those: the wayfaring men, though fools, shall not err therein." And in the fifty-first chapter: "Awake, awake! Put on thy strength, O Zion! put on thy beautiful garments, O Jerusalem, the holy city; for henceforth, there shall no more come into thee the uncircumcised and the unclean," and in the sixtieth chapter: "Thy sun shall no more go down, neither shall thy moon withdraw itself; for the Lord shall be thine everlasting light, and the days of thy mourning shall be ended." To Jeremiah the Lord said, "I sanctified thee; and I ordained thee a prophet unto the nations," which must mean not only that he was set apart for the office of a prophet, but also that he was cleansed from inbred sin, as a necessary preparation for the office itself. In the thirty-sixth chapter of Ezekiel we have some striking passages on the theme before us. These were, no doubt, addressed primarily to the outward Israel, but they may very justly be appropriated by the Israel of God, the Church of Christ, since as Augustine says, "The New Testament lies hidden in the Old, and the Old is revealed in the New." In the twenty-fifth verse we have the promise of pardon or justification with cleansing from the pollution of their past sins: "Then will I sprinkle clean water upon you and ye shall be clean, from all your filthiness and from all your idols will I cleanse you." Committed sin implies both guilt and pollution. And the pollution that is thus acquired by the practice of sinning is removed in regeneration. Thus the new convert is brought back again to the state of the little child. "Except ye be converted," said the blessed Saviour, "and become as little children, ye cannot enter into the kingdom of God." The little child has neither the guilt nor the pollution of committed sin; whilst he does have within him the inherited or inbred sin of his nature. Now in the promise quoted above, allusion is made to the clean water made from the ashes of a red heifer and sprinkled, under the Mosaic law, upon those who had incurred ceremonial uncleanness. The thing signified, however, is the precious blood of Christ which cleanseth from all sin, or possibly the cleansing operation of the Holy Spirit, typified by water, may here be meant. At any rate the twenty-fifth verse points to nothing less than a full and free justification. But the prophet continues: "A new heart also will I give you and a new spirit will I put within you; and I will take away the stony heart out of your flesh and I will give you a heart of flesh." Here we have described certainly the experience of regeneration, if indeed not the still fuller experience of entire sanctification. But let us admit that it means only the new heart which is given to the penitent sinner at his new birth. Regeneration implies the impartation of a new life by the Divine energy of the Holy Ghost. And this new life is comparable to the "heart of flesh," not, of course, a carnal heart, but a heart tender and teachable, and impressible to heavenly influences, such a heart as we always find in the new-born babe in Christ. But listen still further: "And I will put My Spirit within you, and cause you to walk in My statutes, and ye shall keep My judgments and do them." In this verse we have a pre-figuring of the Holy Ghost baptism, by which the heart is cleansed from all sin and sanctified wholly, and also of the subsequent "walking in the Spirit," to which Paul alludes in one of his epistles. Zacharias, the father of John the Baptist, who was also seized with prophetic fire at the birth of his son, exclaims, "That He would grant unto us that we, being delivered out of the hand of our enemies, might serve Him without fear, in holiness and righteousness before Him, all the days of our life." Surely the gospel of Christ has something better for its recipients than a constant daily sinning and repenting, which is too often the experience of Christian people. The twenty-seventh verse, therefore, signifies holiness of heart and life through the power of the indwelling Spirit. How blessed it is thus to be assured that what we cannot do by our own strength, the Holy Spirit will cause us to do. This doctrine of spiritual causation is indeed glorious. Like the mainspring of the watch which supplies the power within, by which the hands are moved without, and thus the fleeting minutes and hours are correctly measured, so the Holy Spirit within supplies the energy by which the sanctified believer is enabled or caused to adorn the doctrine of Christ, his Saviour, in all things, and to bring forth the fruit of the Spirit in all righteousness and goodness and truth. In the minor prophets, we find numerous allusions to the subject of holiness, though their language is often highly figurative. In Hosea 2:16, after reproving Israel for her unfaithfulness in the past, the Almighty, through His prophet, employs the following language, viz: "And it shall be at that day, saith the Lord, that thou shalt call Me Ishi, and shalt call Me no more Baali," and again in the nineteenth verse, "I will betroth thee unto Me forever; yea I will betroth thee in righteousness and in judgment and in loving kindness and in mercies; I will even betroth thee unto Me in faithfulness; and thou shalt know the Lord." Now the word Ishi means my husband; while the word Baali means my Lord, and the language, therefore, points to an experience or a relation of marriage. The bride is exalted immeasurably above the servant. While the position of the servant points to a legal justification and a service for wages and reward, that of the bride must signify entire sanctification, and the closest possible union with the Heavenly Bridegroom. Again, the word betrothed points legitimately to a marriage which is always justly expected to follow if both parties are faithful to the engagement. Beloved, let us get so near to Christ that we shall not address Him as my Lord, in the spirit of a servant, but as my husband, in the spirit of a loving and faithful wife. At your conversion, you are, as it were, betrothed to Him, or in ordinary language engaged to Him. At your entire sanctification, your engagement is consummated by the marriage union. Engagement must precede marriage, it is true, but, as a rule, engagements should not be long. Do not needlessly defer your nuptials, but rather hasten to the embraces of Everlasting Love. Like Rebecca, appreciate your high and holy calling, and like her say promptly and decidedly, "I will go." In the book of Joel we find the prophecy which Peter quoted on the day of Pentecost, and assured the multitude of Jews, out of every nation under heaven, that what they beheld on that day was the fulfillment of the same. "And it shall come to pass afterward, that I will pour out My Spirit upon all flesh; and your sons and your daughters shall prophesy, your old men shall dream dreams, your young men shall see visions. And also upon the servants and upon the handmaidens in those days will I pour out My Spirit." Now, these words are clearly a foreshadowing of the baptism with the Holy Ghost and fire, designed for all of God's children without distinction of nation or sex, and intended, first, to purify their hearts by faith (see Acts 15:9) and, secondly, to endue them with power for whatever line of service God may call them to. And we may add that this text, as well as many others, shows that in these gospel days women as well as men may be, as we find in the facts of our daily experience that they are both called and qualified for the work of the ministry, as well as other labors in the vineyard of the Lord. But both men and women need the Holy Ghost baptism which consumes inbred sin, as an indispensable qualification for the highest efficiency and most marked success in the work to which they may individually be called. Every Christian may and should do something for the Lord, but none can do all for Him which he makes it his privilege and his duty to do, without the grace of entire sanctification and the fulness of the Spirit. In the prayer of Habakkuk we have some sentences which point unmistakably to the experience of perfect trust in God and perfect love for Him. "Although the fig-tree shall not blossom, neither shall fruit be in the vines; the labor of the olive shall fail, and the fields shall yield no meat; the flock shall be cut off from the fold, and there shall be no herd in the stalls; yet I will rejoice in the Lord, I will joy in the God of my salvation." Compare this with John Wesley's description of a holy man after Paul. One who is enabled to rejoice evermore, to pray without ceasing, and in everything to give thanks. Does not Habakkuk answer beautifully to this description? The prophecy of Zechariah contains a number of visions, which are, no doubt, full of instruction to those who have eyes to see. We can only mention one or two of these. In the third chapter, verses one to seven, we are introduced to Joshua, the high priest, representing the Jewish people, and typifying Christ Jesus with His eternal and unchangeable priesthood after the order of Melchizedek. But the Angel Jehovah also represents Jesus in His capacity of Judge. And Satan, the adversary, is present as the accuser of the brethren, resisting them in the person of their representative, the high priest. And surely it would seem, at first, as if there was ground for his accusations, for Joshua, the high priest, is clothed in filthy garments, and these can signify nothing else than sins, aye, the sins of His people imputed to Him as their representative and priest, and not their actual sins only but their inbred sin also, for, "The Lord hath laid on Him the iniquity of us all," and "He hath made Him to be sin for us who knew no sin." "His visage was so marred more than any man, and His form more than the sons of men." "He hath no form nor comeliness, and when we shall see Him, there is no beauty that we should desire Him." "Many were astonished at thee," says Isaiah. "Behold the man," said Pilate, as he brought forth Jesus scourged, tortured, bleeding, but uncomplaining, and the only answer was "Crucify Him!" Thus, beloved, was He clothed in very truth with the filthy garments not of His own vileness but of ours. But Joshua was "a brand plucked from the burning," and, therefore, in Him all His people have found pardon. And now comes the order "Take away the filthy garments from him, and unto him he said, Behold, I have caused thine iniquity to pass from thee, and I will clothe thee with change of raiment." Surely, beloved, we here have nothing less than entire sanctification, not in ourselves but in Him, and not only simply imputatively and representatively, but actually and experimentally. Praise the Lord. The prophet Malachi assures us that "He shall sit as a refiner and purifier of silver; and He shall purify the sons of Levi" (that is, the "royal priesthood" which constitutes the true church) "and purge them as gold and silver, that they may offer unto the Lord an offering in righteousness." Surely no one will deny that there is holiness in prophecy. CHAPTER VI. ENTIRE SANCTIFICATION AS TAUGHT BY JESUS CHRIST. Gabriel said to Mary in the annunciation, "Therefore, that holy thing that shall be born of thee shall be called the Son of God." Or in the Revised Version, "Wherefore, also, that which is to be born shall be called holy, the Son of God." The author of the Epistle to the Hebrews speaks of Him as "holy, harmless, undefiled, separate from sinners," and Peter says that "He did no sin, neither was guile found in His mouth." He is called "Thy holy child Jesus." Jesus Christ, therefore, was wholly free both from sin committed and sin indwelling. He was absolutely holy in heart and holy in life, holy in word and holy in act, holy in His birth, holy in His death, holy in His resurrection, holy in His ascension, holy in His eternity. Glory be to His Holy Name. And if the Divine Founder of the Christian Church was thus a holy man, it would, naturally, be expected that He should desire to have a holy people; and if He desire it, that He should also make provision for it; and if He both desire it and hath made provision for it, that we should find allusions to it in His teachings. In this, we are not disappointed, as we shall proceed to show. The Sermon on the Mount contains an epitome of the public preaching of the Lord Jesus, and every sentence is pregnant with meaning. From beginning to end, it inculcates holiness as the privilege and duty of believers. Many things are enjoined which would only be possible to those who are sanctified wholly, such as, "Bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you, love your enemies, resist not evil," and many others. The teachings of our Lord are like the headings of chapters, which are filled out and developed in the writings of the apostles. This is remarkably true of the Sermon on the Mount, which, without going largely into details, sets forth the principles which are to govern His kingdom on earth. The application and interpretation of these principles, He leaves to the inspired apostles and evangelists, who continued to teach and preach after His departure, and to the Holy Spirit who is promised to the believing church as its guide, teacher and comforter until Christ Himself shall come again. But besides many precepts and injunctions which imply holiness, there are several, also, which expressly require it. Among the beatitudes at the beginning of the Sermon, we find this striking statement: "Blessed are the pure in heart for they shall see God." Now, heart purity cannot exist while there is any sin in the heart. Wherever there is sin in the heart, whether actual or indwelling, there is also defilement; and purity and defilement are incompatible terms. Heart purity, therefore, is identical with entire sanctification, and heart purity is not only a great energizer, so that a man is powerful for good in proportion to the purity of his heart and life, but it is also a great illuminator, so that it enables its possessor to see God. This, of course, does not imply an open or an outward vision, but a spiritual apprehension of God, whereby we are brought into fellowship and communion with Him, and in a spiritual sense, we maybe truly regarded as seeing Him who is forever invisible to outward sense. This inward purity, as distinguished from a blameless outward walk, was by no means unknown to the Old Testament writers. In the Twenty-fourth Psalm, David asks the question "Who shall ascend into the hill of the Lord? or who shall stand in His holy place?" And He immediately answers it by saying, "He that hath clean hands and a pure heart." The clean hands imply that his works are in accordance with God's law; in other words, that his outward life is free from condemnation. But the "pure heart" means more than this, and suggests what the same royal Psalmist remarks again in the Fifty-first Psalm. "Behold, thou desirest truth in the inward parts, in the hidden part, Thou shalt make me to know wisdom." It is also noticeable in the Twenty-fourth Psalm, as already quoted, that the clean hands or justification comes before the pure heart or entire sanctification. So accurate is the blessed spiritual logic of the Holy Ghost. Returning to the Sermon on the Mount, we find at the end of Matthew fifth the direct command, "Be ye, therefore, perfect, even as your Father which is in heaven is perfect," or if we take the Revised Version, which is more accurate in translation, the command becomes a positive assertion, which is equally forcible. "Ye, therefore, shall be perfect as your Heavenly Father is perfect." But whether command or declaration, it is at first sight simply astounding. It is overwhelming. So much so, indeed, that our poor human spirits shrink back in amazement, and we are ready to say, This is wholly impossible. Surely, Jesus cannot mean what He says. Or if He does, then my case is hopeless. But let us examine the words a little more carefully. In the first place, we are to notice that He does not say that we are to be equal in perfection to our Father in Heaven. That would, indeed, be too absurd for the wildest fancy to conceive. God is infinite in all His attributes and, therefore, infinite in perfection, and this in all directions. We are poor, finite, sinful human beings, and can never even approach the boundless perfection of Him who is wholly without limit, either as to power, space or duration, or righteousness, justice and holiness. But the command is not, Be ye equal to your Heavenly Father in perfection, but, Be ye perfect with the same kind of perfection which appertains to Him. It may be similar in kind whilst falling infinitely short of His perfection in degree. Now, God is infinite and perfect in all His attributes, but apart from His attributes is His essence. And what is the perfection which is predicated of the essence of God? Or, rather, what is His essence itself? It is love. "God is love," says the apostle. "Thy nature and Thy name is love," says the great hymnologist, Charles Wesley. The essential perfection of the Godhead, therefore, is a perfection of love. And we are assured by the beloved John that it is possible for us, also, to be made perfect in love, and to possess the perfect love which casteth out fear. Hence, if we are perfect in love we are perfect even as our Father who is in heaven is perfect. Behold the blessed simplicity of the gospel. The context of the command referred to proves the same thing. Jesus had just been telling His disciples that it is not sufficient for them to love their friends, and do good to those that do good to them. All these things and more are done even by worldly minded people and open sinners. Unsaved people love those who love them. But Jesus continues, "I say unto you, love your enemies; bless them that curse you; do good to them that hate you, and pray for them that despitefully use you and persecute you." Why? "That ye may be the children of your Father who is in heaven," for that is just the way He does. He does not wait for a man to be His friend before He loves him and shows kindness to him. "He maketh His sun to rise on the evil and on the good, and sendeth rain on the just and on the unjust." And, if we are to be the children of such a Father, we must adopt His sentiments and love in our measure as He loves. His essence being love, all His infinite activities are controlled and regulated and directed by love, and when there is nothing contrary to love in our hearts, so that all our finite activities are in like manner impelled and swayed and directed by love, then we are perfect in love, and perfect even as our Heavenly Father is perfect. Glory to His Name. I believe that if we search carefully and prayerfully we shall find the doctrine of entire sanctification in many of the parables of our Saviour. Take, for instance, the parable of the sower. Here we are expressly told that the seed is the word of God, and, of course, the sowers are all ministers and Christian workers who are trying in any right way, to diffuse a knowledge and acceptance of gospel truth. They are devoting themselves to the salvation of human souls. Now, mark the difference as to the ground upon which the good seed falls. (1) The wayside hearers are not concerted at all. (2) The stony ground hearers are converted but not established. Their shallowness is such as to prevent them from withstanding trial and temptation and hence they fall into backsliding. (3) The thorny ground hearers are converted, but inbred sin remains in their hearts in form of the love of riches, whether these riches are possessed or only desired, or too much care and cumber, having so much regard to the secular as to neglect the spiritual, or in the form of unsanctified desire, "the lusts of other things," and so by sin that dwelleth in them the word is "choked," and though they may bring forth a little meagre fruit of inferior quality, yet they bring "no fruit to perfection." They are justified but not sanctified wholly. Now, our Heavenly Father desires not a little fruit but much fruit. "Every branch that bringeth forth fruit, he purgeth it that it may bring forth more fruit." To purge is to purify or, in a spiritual sense, to sanctify, and this is the condition of abundant fruitage. When the thorns are removed the good seed will grow and flourish. When inbred sin is taken out of the heart the Christian believer will bring forth fruit to perfection, even the perfection of love, and this will be the "much fruit" whereby God is glorified. On one occasion we are told that a lawyer asked Jesus "What shall I do to inherit eternal life?" and when asked in reply what were the words of the Mosaic law he answered, "Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart and with all thy soul and with all thy mind; and thy neighbor as thyself." Jesus commended his answer and added "This do and thou shalt live." Hence, our Saviour teaches that holiness consists of nothing more nor less nor else than perfect love to God and man. What constitutes this love has been already explained. Martha was a good Christian, but she was "careful and troubled about many things." Mary was a good Christian and still earnestly seeking the one thing needful, which is full salvation, or holiness of heart and life. Even good Christians may be "cumbered about much serving," and so miss this one thing needful. We cannot doubt that both the sisters, who vividly typify the two experiences, obtained the blessing of holiness when the pentecostal baptism was poured out upon the church of the hundred and twenty, if not before. In the marvelous intercessory prayer of the Lord Jesus, given in the seventeenth of John, we find these expressions, "Sanctify them through Thy truth. Thy word is truth." And again, "For their sakes I sanctify Myself that they also may be sanctified through the truth." Here we discover the two senses of the word sanctify. Jesus sets Himself apart or consecrates Himself to the work of human redemption in order that His followers, in all ages, may be not only set apart or consecrated, but also sanctified wholly, or made holy in heart and life. He gave Himself for the world of sinners lost, that they might be forgiven and saved. He gave Himself for the church, on the other hand, that He might "sanctify and cleanse it with the washing of water by the word, that He might present it to Himself a glorious church, not having spot nor wrinkle nor any such thing, but that it should be holy and without blemish." Thus, the atoning sacrifice of Christ procured pardon and acceptance for the penitent sinner. It procured not less, certainly, entire sanctification for the consecrated believer. And it is only by accepting Him as a perfect Saviour that He "is made of God unto us, wisdom and righteousness and sanctification and redemption." For the blessed Saviour does not leave us in doubt as to the method of obtaining this great blessing of holiness, nor as to the price, which must be paid for it. Entire sanctification is "one pearl of great price," and he who would possess it must go and sell all that he has. The rich young ruler had a first-class record as to morality and the outward observance of the law of God, yet Jesus said to him, "One thing thou lackest," and that one thing was perfect love, for He added, "If thou wilt be perfect, go and sell that thou hast and give to the poor," and then interjecting a promise, "Thou shalt have treasure in heaven, and come take up the cross and follow Me." The price was too great, and the young man went away sorrowful. Alas! Myriads of souls since have found the price too great, and by refusing to pay it, have deprived themselves of unspeakable blessing. Christ would not have us become His followers without counting the cost, and the cost is all that we have and all that we are. "Whosoever forsaketh not all that he hath, he cannot be My disciple." First, we are to forsake, with full purpose of heart, all known sin. It may be the sin which "easily besets," our own bosom sin, near as a right eye or a right hand, but if it causes us to stumble, it must be relentlessly sacrificed. And even if the sacrifice seems like crippling and maiming us, yet Jesus assures us that it is better to enter into eternal life with one eye or one hand, than to be consigned to everlasting death with two eyes or two hands. In the first place, therefore, we are to "reckon ourselves dead, indeed, unto sin, but alive unto God through Jesus Christ, our Lord." But we are to become dead, indeed, not only to all sin, but we must be dead, also, even to lawful things, except as God in His mercy may grant them to us, to have and enjoy in moderation and to His glory. Jesus teaches us that our highest affection, our deepest love must be fastened upon Him alone, and that if any individual love, father or mother, son or daughter, wife or husband more than Him, such a one is not worthy of Him. We are to love His gifts and thank Him for them, but still more are we to love the Giver Himself. And when we love Him supremely, we shall learn to be satisfied with Himself, and what He in His love and mercy chooses to give us. If He permits us to have an abundance of earthly goods, we shall thank Him and use them as stewards of His for His glory. If He allows our family circle to be invaded by death, and one dear one after another is carried away to the tomb, or if He permits our wealth to be taken from us and consign us to poverty and desolation, if His gifts one by one or altogether are withdrawn from us, why, praise the Lord, we still have the Giver, and can still say with Job "The Lord gave and the Lord hath taken away. Blessed be the name of the Lord." It thus appears that the teachings of our Lord require us to be dead to sin, and dead to self, yea, even to lawful self, in order that we may possess this inestimable blessing of entire sanctification. Let us not hesitate, then, beloved, to lay down our lives. "Whosoever will save his life shall lose it, but whosoever will lose his life for My sake, the same shall save it." "Except a corn of wheat fall into the ground and die, it abideth alone; but if it die, it bringeth forth much fruit." CHAPTER VII. ENTIRE SANCTIFICATION AS TAUGHT BY PAUL. The apostleship of the Gentiles was committed specially to Paul. And as the Gospel of Christ is intended for the salvation not of the Jews only, but of all mankind who are willing to accept the conditions, we find in the writings of this apostle, perhaps, a more complete exposition and expansion of the teachings of the Lord Jesus than in any other inspired author. Jesus gave the concise germinal principles of all gospel truth; and Paul deduces from these principles their logical consequences and develops them, under the inspiration of the Holy Spirit, into those wonderful epistles to the churches, which, though as Peter well observes containing some things hard to be understood, are no doubt destined, nevertheless, in the future as in the past, to form a large part both of the foundation and framework of every system of theological doctrine. How wondrous, for instance, is the scheme of redemption as unfolded to us in the Epistle to the Romans! How profound and how exalted is the spirituality of the Ephesians and Colossians! How pure and how practical are the directions to the Corinthians! What a counter-blast to all legality in the church do we have in Galatians! What a marvelous unfolding of Old Testament typology in the Hebrews! What a guidebook of unequalled excellency for ministers of all times in the pastoral epistles! In the Epistle to the Romans, Paul regards mankind under the two divisions of the Gentile and the Jew, and proceeds to show that both classes alike had failed in their efforts to attain to righteousness and salvation. The Gentile, it is true, had not been favored with an outward revelation, but he had been permitted to behold the outward universe, and to know that it had a Creator "of eternal power and divinity." He had also had a conscience within him, and so much light as rendered him an accountable being, with a sense of obligation to a supreme power, and furnishing another proof of the existence of a personal God. But the Apostle tells us that they, the Gentiles, did not like to retain God in their knowledge. They wickedly extinguished the light which He had given them, because they were not willing to give up their immoralities. And as their hearts became more corrupt, their intellects also were darkened, and in their senselessness they changed the glory of the incorruptible God into the baser image of "birds and four-footed beasts and creeping things." They sank into the grossest idolatry and licentiousness and all wickedness. This picture drawn in colors which shock our sensibilities, in the first chapter of Romans, is confirmed by the authentic writings of heathen historians, and this in all particulars, Paul says, "They are without excuse, because they did not live up to the light which they had received, obscure and imperfect as it was." And how was it with the Jews? The advantage was, indeed, to them much every way, but chiefly because to them were committed the oracles of God. They had an outward revelation, and with it a knowledge of that law of God, which is holy and just and good. But they had failed, if possible, more grievously than the Gentiles themselves. They had received the law by the disposition of angels, as Stephen told them and had not kept it. They had had far more light than the Gentiles, but they had fallen into the same sins as they. They prided themselves on the law, and looked with contempt upon the Gentiles, and condemned them for their immoralities, and yet were guilty of similar immoralities themselves. They talked loudly about the words of the law. "Do not steal." "Do not commit adultery," and yet violated these very commands themselves. Jesus in His scathing denunciation of the Scribes and Pharisees, compared them to whited sepulchres, looking well outwardly, but within full of dead men's bones and all uncleanness: and He warned His disciples to beware of the leaven of the Pharisees, which is hypocrisy, and the leaven of the Sadduces, which is infidelity, and the leaven of the Herodians, which is worldly mindedness. The cause of failure was the same, both with Jew and Gentile. It was something that had occurred long before the division into Jew and Gentile had an existence. It had occurred, in short, when man fell. From fallen parents our entire race had inherited a fallen nature, that is to say, a natural proclivity towards sin. There is a disposition in all mankind to yield to temptation, some in one direction, some in another, and thus to say yes to Satan, while they also say no to God. This bias towards evil is sometimes called depravity or original sin. It is called by Paul "Our old man," "the flesh," "the carnal mind," "the body of sin," and "sin that dwelleth in me." A good and convenient name for it is inbred sin. It is sin in the heart as distinguished from sin in the act. It is the inward cause of which our outward sins are the effects. It is the evil root of which our outward sins are the bitter fruits. Now, it was the inbred sin in the hearts of the Gentiles which caused them to quench the light of the knowledge of God, which they must have had for, at least, a generation or two after Noah came out of the ark, and which made them blind to the light even of natural religion, notwithstanding before their eyes the heavens were declaring the glory of God and the firmament was showing His handiwork, day unto day was uttering speech, and night unto night was showing knowledge. They forsook the knowledge of God, and He left them to their own reprobate minds, the result being that they sank into the grossest idolatry and the most beastly sensuality. The Jew had the unspeakable advantage of an outward revelation. He received through Moses the law of God, which showed him what God desired him to be and do, and what he ought to be and do, but which conferred upon him no power for being or doing what it required. It is like a looking-glass placed before a child to show him that his face is soiled, but having no power to cleanse that face. It was like a plumb-line applied to a leaning wall, which shows how far it deviates from the perpendicular, but which has no power to make it upright. Nay, it even comes to pass that in consequence of inbred sin, the law multiplies offences. It causes sin to abound. We find even in most children a disposition that impels them to do and to have just what they are told they must not do and have. That is to say, when the law comes in, inbred sin rises in rebellion against it. The workings of the sin that dwelleth in us is most vividly described by Paul in the seventh chapter of Romans. Over the real meaning of this chapter, there has been much discussion and wide differences of opinion. Some writers think that this is the best experience of the great apostle of the Gentiles, and they draw consolation from this fact, as well as argument, in favor of continuing to sin in thought and word and deed as long as they live. Others think that the apostle is not here describing a Christian experience at all, but the struggles of a Jew who is seeking the favor of God by keeping His law, but finds his attempts to keep it all in vain, the hindrance being inbred sin. I freely admit that it is not what even a justified experience ought to be, for God has assured us through His apostle, John, that He that is born of God doth not commit sin, and, therefore, notwithstanding the presence of inbred sin in the heart of the justified and regenerated believer, yet such a one, by watchfulness and prayer, may be kept from acts of sin and from becoming a backslider. But in point of fact, the seventh of Romans does describe what, in many cases, is the experience of the converted Christian. For there are many who even after a clear conversion and a joyful sense of God's favor, with the witness of the Spirit to their adoption, yet do yield to temptation under the pressure of inbred sin, and so pass weeks, or months or weary years in what is called an up-and-down experience, not becoming confirmed backsliders, but sinning and repenting, delighting in the law of God after the inward man, but often yielding to the demands of the law of sin, which is in their members, not losing their sonship, but losing their communion and their joy, often like Peter weeping bitterly over their transgressions, but finding that while the spirit is willing, the flesh is weak. I said that such a process, unsatisfactory as it is, might go on for years. It ends either in complete religious declension amounting, sometimes, to apostacy on the one hand, or infinitely better, in the entire sanctification of the heart and complete deliverance from inbred sin. And in these days of enlightenment, when the doctrine and experience of holiness are so plainly taught, and so generally diffused among the children of God, it is, at least, doubtful whether a soul can continue long in a state of justification, which means that it will either go forward to the experience of entire sanctification, or else it will fall into back-sliding as did some of the Corinthians, or into legality as did the Galatians. Now, legality is nothing more nor less than Judaism. It is seeking salvation after the pattern of the Old Testament, and not after that of the New. It is a matter of works, and not a matter of faith. It inquires "What good thing shall I do that I may inherit eternal life?" It is the child of the bondwoman and not that of the free. It is Ishmael and not Isaac. It is Sinai and not Calvary. And so it happens that many Christians are simply good Jews. They may even possess circumcised hearts, and may yet serve the Lord in the spirit of bondage, as did good Jews of old. They fail to realize that they have been called unto liberty, which liberty does not, by any means, signify license; it does not signify the liberty of making our own choices, but the liberty of accepting gladly and submissively God's choices; it does not mean the liberty of doing either right or wrong as we may prefer, but the liberty of always preferring to do right and never wrong, and so to spend our years on earth, doing right in all directions, and doing wrong in none. This, beloved, is the glorious liberty of the children of God. After the birth of Ishmael, we may well suppose that Hagar's chief employment in Abraham's house was to look after the said Ishmael, to care for him and to restrain him. Mark, it was never her business to care for or to restrain Isaac. He was the child of promise, the child of faith, the son of the lawful wife and the free woman, and when Ishmael's persecuting spirit broke forth at the weaning of Isaac, then the command was "Cast out the bond woman and her son." Both must go together or stay together. Ah! beloved, when inbred sin is cast out, there is no more need of the law either to restrain or constrain. Perfect love casts out fear; it also casts out sin, and becomes the motive power of the whole spiritual man. "The love of Christ constraineth us." So Paul shows us that both Gentiles and Jews had failed to attain unto the law of righteousness, because of inbred sin, which caused the former to put out the light which they had, and the latter to fall short of keeping the law, which was their only hope of salvation, but which was never intended by its Divine Author to save men, but to show them how utterly incapable they were of saving themselves. But Paul does not leave them there. After putting both classes of the human family into the same position of failure and condemnation, and declaring that there is no difference, "for all have sinned and come short of the glory of God," he adds, "Being justified fully by His grace, through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus." When man's helplessness and inability have been sufficiently demonstrated, then God comes to his rescue. "For God hath concluded them all in unbelief, that He might have mercy upon all." Thus in the Epistle to the Romans, the apostle teaches the great doctrine of justification by faith and the consequent peace of reconciliation, the "peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ." But he goes farther than justification, and shows us that sanctification, also, is by faith and not by works. He will not be satisfied with anything less than the death of our old man, and the death of inbred sin is precisely the experience of entire sanctification. "Knowing this that our old man is crucified with him, that the body of sin might be destroyed, that, henceforth, we should not serve him." But we are wholly unable to destroy or do away with the body of sin by any resolution or will-power or effort of our own. Sin will not go dead at our bidding, nor can we become dead to sin by wishing or striving to be so. Again, we are brought face to face with our helplessness, but the apostle solves the problem for us by directing us to resort to the process of reckoning. "Likewise reckon ye, also, yourselves to be dead, indeed, unto sin, but alive unto God, through Jesus Christ, our Lord." Ah! now, our help is laid upon one that is mighty. "The things that are impossible with men are possible with God." What we reckon, with the sublime reckoning of faith, Christ can make real and true. We have only, therefore, to reckon ourselves to be dead, indeed, unto sin, and leave to Him to make the reckoning good. But we must not fail to reckon ourselves alive as well as dead. And to be alive to God means, in this connection, to be responsive to every intimation of His will, to love Him perfectly, to be, to do and to suffer joyfully all that He may determine concerning us, in short, to be sanctified wholly. Oh, beloved, what a blessed reckoning is the reckoning of faith! How vastly does it transcend all the reckonings of logic or mathematics. For, by it, we experience a continual deadness to sin, and a continual holiness of heart and life. For it must be clearly understood that Paul is not asking us to fancy, or imagine, or hypothecate. He is not telling us that if we believe a thing to be true, the believing will make it true. He is not persuading us to reckon without factors and with no result. The factors in his direction are God's promises and commands, alike in the Old Testament and in the New, urging His people to be holy, and promising to make them so, and our acceptance of the provision He has made for our cleansing, by faith, and then by the reckoning alluded to, the result is secured. In foggy or cloudy weather, mariners at sea are often compelled to resort to what they term dead-reckoning. Sometimes for days together, the sun is hidden by clouds, and no observation can be taken with the usual instruments for determining latitude and longitude. Then the captain ascertains by the compass what direction he is pursuing, and by the log, the rate at which the ship is sailing, and thus by marking out his daily advance on a chart, he is enabled, with astonishing accuracy, to determine when and at what point he will sight the shore toward which the voyage is directed. What he reckons becomes real, when he tells the passengers, "Within five minutes, we ought to see the Irish coast," followed within the specified time by the cry from the lookout, "Land, ho!" To the Christian believer, the Bible is both compass and log and chart. Sometimes, he enjoys the witness of the Spirit clear as the sunshine, assuring him that he is going in the right direction, and informing him as to his whereabouts in Christian experience, but when not thus favored, he can still move on by faith, he still has his compass and his chart, and he can still employ the dead-reckoning, and go forward with a holy trust that in due time he shall land in the heavenly port. Praise the Lord. To comment in detail upon all that the great apostle of the Gentiles has written in reference to entire sanctification would require a volume instead of a single chapter. I must, therefore, content myself with a few selections, and leave the reader to pursue the subject for himself in the inexhaustible mine of the Pauline Epistles. In Romans 6:13, we have the best description of consecration that is to be found anywhere. "Neither yield ye your members as instruments of unrighteousness unto sin; but yield yourselves unto God, as those that are alive from the dead, and your members as instruments of righteousness unto God." And, again, in the 19th verse, "For as ye have yielded your members servants to uncleanness and to iniquity, unto iniquity; even so, now, yield your members servants to righteousness, unto holiness." Here, the apostle clearly teaches us that consecration is not the same thing as entire sanctification. The one is an act proceeding from man to God, the other is an act proceeding from God to man. It is man who consecrates; it is God who sanctifies. Perfect consecration is an entire surrender of a personal human being to a personal God. The term members may well be understood to include all bodily organs and powers, all mental faculties and sensibilities, and all appurtenances, such as time, money, influence, culture, health, and, in short, the whole personal, individual man, with all his belongings. The surrender must be complete, absolute, unreserved and forever. Body, soul, spirit, time, talents, possessions, all that we have and all that we are must be His, wholly His, and His to all eternity. Such a consecration cannot be made by any one who is not already a Christian believer. Paul informs us, explicitly, that he is not calling upon sinners "dead in trespasses and sins," to consecrate themselves, but upon converted persons, "those who are alive from the dead." How thankful we ought to be that he has settled that point forever. Sinners may repent, but only Christians can consecrate. Whatever surrender the sinner may and must make in order to be saved, the believer must make a broader, deeper, fuller, more complete surrender of a different character and for a different purpose. In repentance, the sinner gives himself away as a dead sacrifice, and his purpose is to receive pardon and life. In consecration, the Christian yields to God his living and regenerated faculties and powers, and his purpose is that he may be sanctified wholly, filled with the Spirit, and used to the utmost extent of his capacity for the glory of God. Consecration does not mean the giving up of our sins, or vices, or depraved appetites, or forbidden indulgences. We cannot consecrate our alcohol, or our tobacco, or our opium, or our card-playing, or dancing, or theater-going to God. He wants none of these things. All actual and known sins must be abandoned at conversion. Our consecration is for a deeper work, that is to say, for the removal of inbred sin, which, after all, is not accomplished by our consecration, though that is an essential preliminary, but by the baptism with the Holy Ghost and fire. The essence of consecration is in the sentence, "Yield yourselves unto God." When you yield yourselves, you yield everything else. All the details are included in the one surrender of yourself. Changing the emphasis, we may read again, "Yield yourselves unto God." Consecration is not to God's service, not to His work, not to a life of obedience and sacrifice, not to the church, not to the Christian Endeavor, not to the missionary cause, nor even to the cause of God; it is to God Himself. "Yield yourselves unto God." Your work, your service, your obedience, your sacrifice, your right place and your allotted duty will all follow in good time. Consecration is the willingness, and the resolution and the purpose to be, to do, and to suffer all God's will. Its essence, already given in the words of Paul, is given also in the words of the Saviour. "Not My will but Thine be, done," which is beautifully versified by Frances Ridley Havergal, in the couplet, "Take my will and make it thine, It shall be no longer mine." Consecration being a definite transaction, and made once for all, does not need to be repeated unless we have failed to keep it. To consecrate over and over again is like a husband and wife marrying over and over again. We are consecrated just as we are married. The vow is upon us, and in the force of that vow, we walk all our days. All we have to do is to remember day by day that we are wholly the Lord's, and see to it that nothing is taken from the altar. Those who have kept their consecration complete should testify to its maintenance upon all suitable occasions, and never deny it by word, deed or silence. Many years ago, I saw a form of consecration in an English periodical, which is here given very slightly modified, and which has been adopted by many. Let all my readers unite with the author in entering into this personal yielding to God. I am willing To receive what Thou givest, To lack what Thou withholdest, To relinquish what Thou takest, To suffer what Thou inflictest, To be what Thou requirest, To do what Thou commandest. Amen. In this connection, we may add that when the consecration is complete, it becomes, comparatively, an easy matter to believe. Entire sanctification like justification, and, indeed, all other gospel blessings and experiences, is to be received by faith. But so long as the surrender to God is not complete, faith refuses to act. When all obstructions are removed by an act of heartfelt and sincere consecration, then it becomes as natural and as easy to believe as it is to breathe, after everything that hinders breathing is removed from the air passages. We hear much complaint among Christians of a want of faith. If they only had more faith, they imagine that all would be well. When the disciples of old asked Jesus to increase their faith, He told them, in effect, to use what they had. If it were only a mustard-seed faith, He assured them that it would remove mountains. And we may justly conclude that the difficulty with most seekers after entire sanctification is not in a want of faith so much as in an incomplete surrender. The carnal mind dies very hard. It attaches itself to one worldly thing or another, and refuses to be sundered from what it loves, and while this is the case, the individual cannot believe that God gives him the unspeakable blessing of heart purity. But when all the preliminaries have been attended to, and there is nothing else needed but to trust in Jesus, then faith can appropriate His promises, and in so doing realize their fulfillment. Another class of seekers is very much concerned about the witness of the Spirit to assure them that the blessing has been received. Probably in these cases the very point that has not yet been consecrated to God is the feeling, or the witness, which they so much desire. "It often happens," says Dr. G. D. Watson, "that a patient, who has been cured of some contagious disease, has to have a certificate on leaving the hospital. In such a case the certificate does not cure him, but certifies that he is cured. How absurd for a patient just entering the hospital to clamor for his health certificate before receiving the doctor and taking the remedies. In like manner, it is useless for a seeking soul to be clamoring for the witness and waiting for the feeling before receiving Jesus and fully trusting Him for the cure. We are not to trust in the experience, but the Saviour who imparts the experience." Let us now return to Paul. In his first epistle to the Corinthians, second and third chapters, he tells us of three classes of persons: the natural man, the spiritual man, and the babe in Christ. The natural man, he tells us, receiveth not the things of the Spirit of God; they are foolishness unto him; neither can he know them, because they are spiritually discerned. Such is a description of the unregenerate wherever and whenever they are found. Their standard of judgment is not that of the Holy Spirit. They are blind to the truth of God and deaf to the story of salvation. Being without spiritual life they are, of course, without spiritual judgment. And yet, just such persons are in all our churches, and the number is by no means small. And often it strangely happens that these are the very individuals who are noticeably forward in expressing their opinions on the right way of managing a church. Fine and costly edifices, artistic music, entertainments and theatricals, eloquent preaching or lecturing, something to be proud of and to draw the crowd--these are the things which in their view make the church of their choice a success; but as for the conversion of sinners, as for the spread of the gospel at home and abroad, as for the sanctifying of believers, as for the things of the Spirit of God, they are foolishness unto them. What they need is a deep and pungent conviction, a true repentance, a living faith and a sound conversion. May God hasten it in His time. "He that is spiritual," says our apostle, "judgeth or discerneth all things, yet he himself is judged or discerned of no man." The spiritual man is the man who has been baptized with the Spirit and filled with the Spirit, and in whom the Spirit abides as an ever-present Guide, Comforter and Friend. In short, he is the man who is wholly sanctified and saved to the uttermost. I should not, of course, affirm that such a one is always remarkable for depth or soundness of judgment, for, as his religion is in his heart rather than in his head, the heart may be perfect while the head may be weak. And yet holiness, or rather the Holy Spirit dwelling in the heart, does have a wonderfully illuminating influence upon the understanding. And the spiritual man, however many things he may be ignorant of, does understand the condition of the natural man, because he has been there, while he is not understood by the natural man because the latter has not been where he is. And the same is true of the relation of the spiritual man to the carnal Christian or babe in Christ. He, also, is understood by one who has the Spirit, while he is himself incapable of judging or discerning the position of the latter. Paul assures the Corinthians that they are "yet carnal," and still he asserts that they are "babes in Christ." Such persons, and their name is legion in all denominations of Christians, are not wholly natural, neither are they wholly spiritual. They are babes in Christ, and, therefore, they may thank God that they are in Christ. They are converted, they are believers, they are disciples, they are justified; but they are not wholly sanctified, and not wholly delivered from the carnal mind. Their state is a mixed one, partly spiritual, partly carnal. Oh, let such as these make an immediate and complete and irrevocable consecration to God, and let them ask for the baptism with the Holy Ghost and receive Him by faith in His sanctifying and empowering offices, that so they may become, not partly, but wholly spiritual. Oh, that spiritual men and women may increase and abound in all our churches. Amen. In 2 Corinthians, 7:1, the apostle of the Gentiles bases the experience of entire sanctification on the glorious promises of God. "Having, therefore, these promises, dearly beloved, let us cleanse ourselves from all filthiness of the flesh and spirit, perfecting holiness in the fear of God." To cleanse ourselves is shown by the Greek tense to be an act done definitely and once for all. It means, therefore, to put ourselves under the conditions of cleansing by a definite act of consecration to God. It means to place ourselves in co-operation with the Holy Spirit, who is distinctively the Sanctifier and Cleanser. It means, also, that we are to seek and find the baptism with the Holy Ghost and with fire, in order that our hearts may be purified by faith, and then to continually avoid all sources of temptation and all incentives to evil, so far as we may; and continuously realize and experience the holiness which Christ has instantaneously wrought in our souls through His Holy Spirit. Filthiness of the flesh signifies undue indulgence of sensual appetites, as in gluttony, drunkenness and licentiousness, which was probably very prevalent at Corinth. Filthiness of the spirit is illustrated by idolatry and pride, nor must we forget that the spirit is often polluted also through pampering the body. Paul's wonderful prayer in Ephesians 3:14-21, has been so admirably treated of by Dr. Daniel Steele, that I shall content myself with referring the reader to his book on "Love Enthroned," page 123, and pass on. A single remark, however, may properly be made. That prayer, undoubtedly, embodies all that we mean by entire sanctification and the filling of the Spirit and more. In 1 Thess. 5:23, we have another prayer of the great apostle in which entire sanctification is expressly petitioned for. "And the very God of peace sanctify you wholly: and I pray God your whole spirit and soul and body be preserved blameless unto the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ. Faithful is he that calleth you, who also will do it." The very form of the expression in the first clause indicates that it is possible to be sanctified wholly and possible to be sanctified partially. All Christians are cleansed from the pollution of sins committed, that is to say, from the pollution they have acquired by actually sinning. And thus the Corinthians are addressed by Paul as sanctified, although, manifestly, many of them were not holy in heart and life. On the other hand, the apostle prays that the Thessalonians may be sanctified wholly, although as a church they were already in a healthy and prosperous condition, the only exception being a few members who were too neglectful of their outward business and too much disposed to be busy-bodies. So we may conclude, without hesitation, that all Christians are partially sanctified, while many good Christians are not wholly sanctified. But provision was made in the gospel for the entire sanctification of all believers, otherwise Paul would not have prayed for it. And not only for their entire sanctification as a definite, instantaneous act of God, as shown by the Greek tense, but, also, for their continual preservation in blamelessness, though not in faultlessness, until the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ. And lest they should stagger through unbelief he adds, "Faithful is He that calleth you. You are not to do it. He will do it for He is able." And this experience extends to the whole man, the spirit which takes hold of and communes with God, the soul with its emotions, affections, desires and volitions; the body with its appetites and its powers all made holy and preserved holy. Glory! One more citation only and I will leave the reader to his own researches in the rich storehouse of the Pauline writings. Taking it for granted that Paul is the author of the Hebrews, let us read chapter 7:25 of that profound epistle. "Wherefore, he is able, also, to save them to the uttermost that come unto God by Him, seeing He ever liveth to make intercession for them." To the uttermost refers, undoubtedly, not only to time but to quantity. It means entirely, perfectly, altogether, through and through. And if he is able he is also willing. Oh, that all my readers, with the writer, may praise God now and evermore for salvation from the uttermost to the uttermost. Amen. CHAPTER VIII. ENTIRE SANCTIFICATION AS TAUGHT BY PETER. In the first place, Peter sanctioned all the writings of his beloved brother, Paul, and this probably at a period when Paul was either dead or separated from his ministerial work by imprisonment. There is a tradition that both the apostles were put to death on the same day at Rome, the one by crucifixion, choosing himself to have his head downward because unworthy to die just like his Master--the other by beheading, because he was a Roman citizen, which was deemed, at Rome, too honorable a position to be subjected to the ignominious death of the cross. Even if this should be true, yet Peter's second epistle, in which he endorses Paul's teachings, and gives to his writings the same authority as to the rest of the Bible, seems to have been written but a short time previous to his own martyrdom. The mature judgment of Peter, therefore, was that Paul was an inspired writer of Scripture, and that what he had given to the churches through his epistles, and left as a permanent legacy for the church universal, is to be received as gospel truth. And this will apply to his copious and frequent allusions to entire sanctification, as well as to the various other subjects treated of by his inspired pen. On the subject of holiness, therefore, Peter and Paul are as one; and we need not be surprised that in the very first sentence of his first epistle, he addresses the Christians of the Jewish dispersion in Asia Minor--though by no means excluding the Gentile converts--as elect according to the fore-knowledge (not predestination) of God the Father through sanctification of the Spirit, which must include entire as well as partial sanctification, unto (not unconditional happiness or misery,) but unto obedience and sprinkling of the blood of Jesus Christ. Thus, in one grand outburst of salutation from his glowing heart, he associates sanctification of the Spirit, the blood of sprinkling, and the obedience of faith. Neither Peter nor Paul stops in the midst of his earnest appeals to men's hearts, in order to give a lecture on Systematic Theology, but both scatter seed-thoughts all over their inspired pages, which are abundant in fruitage to the candid and reflecting mind. And right here we remark that Paul to the Thessalonians employs the same expression, sanctification of the spirit, in connection with belief of the truth, and thus putting the apostle of the circumcision by the side of the apostle of the uncircumcision we have sanctification by the blood of Jesus, sanctification by faith, sanctification by the Holy Ghost, and even in a subordinate sense, sanctification by obedience, and all this without the slightest inconsistency or contradiction. And as Peter starts out by calling God's people to holiness, he continues by reminding them that their hope is to be fixed upon "an inheritance incorruptible and undefiled and that fadeth not away, reserved in heaven for you." What more natural than that those who are expecting to inherit a holy heaven, should themselves seek while here to become a holy people? Surely we should desire a meetness for our inheritance as well as a title to it. After speaking of the "trial of their faith being much more precious than of gold which perisheth," the apostle utters forth an imperious call to entire sanctification. "But as He which hath called you is holy, so be ye holy in all manner of conversation; because it is written, Be ye holy, for I am holy." Thus he quotes from the words of the great lawgiver in Leviticus--that Moses, whom all Jews have delighted to honor, and shows at a glance that the Old Testament, as well as the New, bears witness to the holiness of God, and makes that fact a sufficient reason for the command and requirement that His people should be holy, also. Our Heavenly Father, then, is a holy God and dwells in a holy heaven. Is it not most reasonable and most fit that He should require all who are to dwell with Him forever in that holy place, to be holy also? And in order to find an abundant entrance into that everlasting kingdom, we must be made holy while still clothed in flesh and sojourning upon earth. Nothing that is not already pure and holy can pass through the gates of pearl into the eternal city, the New Jerusalem. Holiness is what constitutes the family likeness between our Father in heaven and His children both on earth and in heaven. A lady was accosted in the streets of a western city by a stranger, who asked her if she was not the daughter of such a one, naming him. She replied, with some surprise at the question, in the affirmative. "I knew you," said the gentleman, "by your resemblance to your father who was my particular friend twenty-five years ago, away back in the State of Maine." And the lady was delighted that the lineaments of her father's countenance were so impressed upon her own that she should thus be recognized even by one who had never seen her before as her father's child. Ah! beloved, have we the likeness of our Heavenly Father so imprinted upon our faces and upon our walk and upon our conversation that all who know Him shall recognize His features in us? Oh, for more of the family likeness which shall stamp us as sons of God wherever we are and whatever we do. "Be ye holy, for I am holy." In comparison with the precious "blood of Christ" Peter characterizes silver and gold, which men call precious metals, as "corruptible things," and then gives the striking exhortation, "Seeing ye have purified your souls in obeying the truth through the Spirit unto unfeigned love of the brethren, see that ye love one another with a pure heart fervently," and all this on the basis of the new birth which they had already received "of the incorruptible seed by the word of God." Why, Peter, although a fisherman and an unlearned and ignorant man, yet when thou writest under the inspiration of the Holy Ghost, it is almost as hard to keep up with thee as with thy beloved brother, Paul! See how holiness is, as it were, piled up and repeated in various ways in the sentence quoted above. (1), "Ye have purified your souls." Yes, and it was Peter who spoke before the council at Jerusalem in reference to Cornelius and his household, and said that God "put no difference between us and them, purifying their hearts by faith." The word "purify" is derived from a Greek root which means "fire." Souls are purified by the fire of the Holy Spirit, and the result is a continual "obeying the truth," and (2), the positive side of this purification is "unfeigned love of the brethren," and this is love with a pure heart and fervent, the same love which John calls perfect love, and the standard of which is in the words of the Lord Jesus, "As I have loved you that ye also love one another." Was ever more holiness crowded into a single verse? Peter had never been to a Theological Seminary, but he had listened through three eventful years to the blessed teachings of the Lord Jesus, and he had been filled with the Holy Ghost on the day of Pentecost, and without aiming at system or explanation, he has compressed more sound theology into a single verse than we find in many a voluminous treatise and many a lengthy commentary and many an eloquent sermon. And then in the rapturous eloquence of inspiration he tells us how to grow in grace. "Wherefore, laying aside all malice and all guile, and hypocrisies, and envies, and all evil speakings, as newborn babes desire the sincere milk of the word, that ye may grow thereby," and his last exhortation at the end of the second epistle is, "But grow in grace and in the knowledge of our Lord and Saviour, Jesus Christ." Peter, by no means, teaches us that we grow into grace, or that we grow into entire sanctification. We first become receivers, and get grace before we can grow in it, and we must first receive entire sanctification before we can grow in it. Like all other gospel blessings, this is the gift of God, and is forever, therefore, unobtainable by any process of growth. But Peter says in effect, in order to grow in grace you must do two things. (1), Lay aside everything that hinders growth, specifying malice, guile, hypocrisies, envies, evil speakings. Now it is plain as the sun at noon-day that all these things are the fruits of the carnal mind. And so in a single thought the exhortation is to lay aside, or put off, or give up to destruction, the depravity of our nature, the inbred sin which doth so easily beset, and which so long as it exists, will be an insuperable hindrance to all rapid and symmetrical growth, and (2) desire, and of course, partake of the sincere milk of the word. Ah, here is wisdom, the secret of successful growth, in the spiritual as in the natural world, is first to become healthy, and then to take plenty of nourishment. Holiness is spiritual health, and implies the absence of inbred sin which is always spiritual disease. The child that is healthy and gets plenty of pure milk will grow and develop rapidly. The time will soon come when he can eat and digest meat and still strengthen and expand his physical organism on this richer diet, and thus he will finally become a large and strong man. But the child may be healthy and still not grow because it is starving for want of food. Or, it may have plenty of the most wholesome food and still not grow because disease prevents it from assimilating the nourishment. Sound health and plenty of food, with proper exercise, are the essentials of the right kind of growth. Now the Holy Bible contains not only milk for babes, but strong meat for strong men. It has been remarked by another that if Christians would be giants they must eat giants' food. And the essential requisite for appropriating either the milk or the meat is to have a sound spiritual constitution and that means simply entire sanctification. Peter is right again. We grow by the sincere milk of the word after we have gotten rid of that which always and everywhere obstructs true growth. Of course my reader will not understand me to say, any more than Peter himself says, that we experience growth in grace simply by a head knowledge of the Holy Scriptures. I do not forget that it is not the written word but the Eternal Word, the Lord Jesus Christ Himself, who is the bread of life. Nor do I forget that we feed upon His broken body and His shed blood, not by intellect, not by reason, not by culture, not by learning, but by faith. But after all it is the Bible, or rather it is Bible truth, whether presented on the pages of inspiration or in the preached word, which is the great instrumentality employed by the Holy Spirit, in bringing men to Christ, and in feeding and nourishing and strengthening and edifying the church which has thus been gathered to Him. And so both Peter in speaking about the "sincere milk of the word," and Paul in referring to the "strong meat," by which term he characterizes the deeper spiritual truths of revelation, are leading us to Jesus, the true bread, the living bread, the bread of life. Our apostle passes next to a most glowing description of the Christian priesthood, and again the leading idea of holiness flashes from his pen, "Ye also, as lively stones, are built up a spiritual house, an holy priesthood, to offer up spiritual sacrifices acceptable to God by Jesus Christ." Again, "Ye are a chosen generation, a royal priesthood, an holy nation, a peculiar people." Here is our title of nobility, beloved, and who of us would exchange it for an earldom, or a dukedom or a kingdom? Not I at least. The Jews of old received spiritual blessing very largely, and even temporal blessing also, through the mediation of an outward priesthood. And the family of priests were chosen and ordained of God Himself. "No man taketh this honor unto himself but he that is called of God, as was Aaron." But under the Christian dispensation all God's saved people are priests as well as kings, and the sacrifices which they offer are spiritual sacrifices, the body as a living sacrifice to be consumed like a whole burnt offering in His service, "the fruit of the lips giving thanks to His name," and the doing good and communicating, that is to say, a life rich in faith and good works, such are the sacrifices with which God is well pleased. But to be a Christian priest in the sense here described must involve and does involve the idea of entire sanctification. Peter's words will not allow us to doubt that the priesthood of believers is a "holy priesthood." Afterwards, the chief of the apostles exhorts his readers to take ill treatment patiently when they have to suffer, not for doing wrong but for doing well, and reminds us of the example of Christ, "Who did no sin, neither was guile found in His mouth; who when He was reviled, reviled not again; when He suffered, He threatened not, but committed Himself to Him that judgeth righteously; who His own self bare our sins in His own body on the tree, that we, being dead to sins, should live unto righteousness," winding up with a terse expression of the great doctrine of the atonement "by whose stripes ye were healed." Paul would have us "dead to sin" by reckoning. Peter would have us "dead to sins" by making no response to the suggestions of Satan or the temptations which he may present to us. To be dead either to sin within us or to sins without us, implies holiness of heart, that is, entire sanctification. Praise the Lord for the perfect agreement of His two great apostles in regard to this glorious doctrine. Still further, Peter speaks of the "holy women" of old, and exhorts Christian women to be like them, particularly in adorning themselves not with gay attire, but with inward and spiritual graces. And in his second epistle, he alludes to "holy men of God," speaking through the Old Testament as they were moved by the Holy Ghost. And here we have the best possible definition of inspiration, in regard to which volumes have been written, and very different views expressed by equally learned and candid men. But what can be more satisfactory to the humble, Christian mind than just to feel that when he reads his Bible, he is perusing the words of "holy men of God who spake as they were moved by the Holy Ghost." Such a mind will find no difficulty about inspiration. In the last chapter of his second epistle, Peter rebukes the unbelief of the scoffers, who then believed, and whose successors still believe that the present order of the material universe will continue for an indefinite period, if not, indeed, forever. He assures us that the Lord has not forgotten, that He is not slack concerning His promises, but that the very reason why the sinful world has been spared so long is because of God's long suffering and mercy, "not willing that any should perish, but that all should come to repentance." And, then, having declared that the heavens and the earth which are now, are reserved unto fire, that the day of the Lord shall come as a thief in the night, that the elements shall melt with fervent heat, the earth also and the works that are therein shall be burned up, he exclaims with most appropriate words, "Seeing then, that all these things shall be dissolved, what manner of persons ought ye to be in all holy conversation and godliness," and this in order "that ye may be found of Him in peace, without spot and blameless." Praise the Lord for the doctrine of entire sanctification as taught by the apostle of the circumcision. Amen. CHAPTER IX. ENTIRE SANCTIFICATION AS TAUGHT BY JOHN. John, before Pentecost, was emphatically a Son of Thunder. He could forbid a man to cast out devils in the name of Jesus, because the man was not of his own particular fold. He was ready to imitate Elijah by calling down fire from heaven to destroy the Samaritans who would not extend the rites of hospitality to his Master. He was eager to have the highest possible place in the coming kingdom of his Lord, and this at whatever cost. But after Pentecost, John was _par excellence_ the apostle of love. Not that his character became anything like putty. He could still rebuke evil and denounce Diotrephes, and forbid the elect lady to receive or countenance any who did not uphold the true, sound doctrines of the gospel. He was still a son of thunder against heresy and immorality, but he was preeminently, after his baptism with the Holy Ghost, a son of consolation. His soul seems absolutely absorbed in the love of God, and his exhortations to the churches, seemed all to concentrate in two special points, love God and love one another. His heart was made perfect in love on the day of Pentecost, and he never lost the blessed experience. He retained the blessing because he retained the Blesser. The Holy Comforter was his abiding guest and keeper. The gospel of John contains many of the most profound and spiritual truths that ever fell from the lips of the Lord Jesus. And the only distinction which John accords to himself, and that always with the greatest modesty and humility, is "the disciple whom Jesus loved." He begins his gospel with a sublime assertion of the Deity and preëxistence of Christ as the Eternal Word, then tells of the incarnation, how the Word became flesh, and we beheld His glory, how although He was the Light of the world, yet the world knew Him not, and though He came unto His own (the Jews) yet His own received Him not, but as many as did receive Him, whether Jews or Gentiles, to them gave He power to become the children of God, and this through a new birth, not of human blood, or title, or pedigree, not of man in any way whatever, but of God. It is not sufficient, therefore, to be a child of God by creation, which, indeed, all men are, but by adoption, by the reception of the Divine nature by birth. And this new birth is more fully unfolded to the Jewish Sanhedrist, Nicodemus, both as to its necessity and its nature. "Ye must be born again." "The Son of man must be lifted up." The new birth is of water and the Spirit. The water is the water of life, the gospel offered freely to all, with its cleansing and refreshing and vivifying properties so well symbolized by water, and the Holy Spirit is the effective personal agent by whom the regeneration is wrought in the heart of the penitent sinner, though His operations may be as inexplicable as the wind, which bloweth where it listeth, and is known only by its results. Then we have the hinge-text of salvation, "God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in Him should not perish but have eternal life." Thus, in this marvelous discourse with Nicodemus, we have God's love or God's grace as the source of our salvation, Christ crucified as the ground of it, and the Holy Spirit as the Divine Agent of its accomplishment. Glory be to the Triune God. Not only the discourse of our Lord with Nicodemus on the new birth, but His discourse, also, with the woman of Samaria on true worship is given by John alone. It is remarkable that not to a Jewish Rabbi, not to the Scribes and Pharisees, not to a Jew at all, but to a heathen or semi-heathen woman, Jesus made the first recorded, positive declaration of His Messiahship, and showed her that as God is a Spirit, so they that worship Him must do so, not in any specific locality, such as Jerusalem or Mount Gerizim, and not by any prescribed form or any outward ritual, but in spirit and in truth. No wonder that her heart was immediately and completely captivated by so grand and glorious a revelation, and that, at once, she left her waterpot and went her way to become a preacher of righteousness to her fellow-townsmen. Passing over the fifth chapter, with the appeal to the Jews to search the Scriptures and the assurance that they testified of Him; and the sixth chapter, with its story of complete self-abnegation, when after a stupendous miracle, the people were disposed to take Him by force and make Him a king, but He departed into a mountain Himself alone, and the next day, the wonderful discourse upon the bread of life, which sifted away from Him a large proportion of those who had been so ready to proclaim Him King, and brought out of the core of His heart those pathetic words to the twelve, "Will ye also go away?", we come to the seventh chapter and the feast of Tabernacles, at which, on the occasion of the priest pouring water from the pool of Siloam, out of a golden pitcher into a trumpet-shaped receptacle above the altar, amid the rejoicings of the people, Jesus stood and cried, "If any man thirst let him come unto Me and drink." "He that believeth on Me, as the Scripture hath said, from within him shall flow rivers of living water." The Scripture referred to is, probably, Isaiah 58:11, and, perhaps, other similar passages. "And the Lord shalt guide thee continually, and satisfy thy soul in drought, and make fat thy bones, and thou shalt be like a watered garden and like a spring of water, whose waters fail not." But the beloved disciple himself gives us an extremely valuable inspired commentary on these words of the Lord Jesus, in order that readers in all ages might make the true spiritual application which is intended by them. "But this spake He of the Spirit which they that believe on Him should receive, for the Holy Ghost was not yet given, because that Jesus was not yet glorified." These remarkable words seem to clearly imply that notwithstanding the presence and operation of the Spirit in the former dispensations of God's grace, yet He was to be poured out on all God's children under the gospel in a sense and to an extent, which so far transcends the highest manifestation of His power in Old Testament times that in comparison it is said the Holy Ghost was not yet given, or, literally, the Holy Ghost was not yet. And this wondrous outpouring was to be after the glorification of Jesus and as a consequence of that glorification. So that Pentecost, with its untold wealth of privilege, could not be realized till after the death, resurrection and ascension of the Lord Jesus Christ. And we are clearly informed that what the church of the hundred and twenty received on the day of Pentecost, namely, the purifying of their hearts by faith and the enduement of power, that is to say, entire sanctification, with all its blessed accompaniments, was not a privilege confined to apostolic times, and to the opening of the Holy Ghost dispensation; for Peter boldly assured the wondering multitude that the promise of the same blessed experience "is to you and to your children and to all that are afar off, even as many as the Lord our God shall call." And thus it is for the church and for every individual believer, until Christ Himself shall come again. God help all Christians everywhere to see and to believe and to realize it. Amen. In the eighth chapter, we are told how Jesus showed the slavery of sin. "Every one that committeth sin is the bond-servant of sin," and coupled with this the glorious announcement that, "If the Son, therefore, shall make you free, ye shall be free indeed." Yes, Jesus came to free us not simply from the guilt and the condemnation and the penalty of sin, but from that which brings guilt and condemnation and penalty, even from sin itself. Here is true Christian liberty, and it does not mean license, it does not mean do as you please, it does not mean the liberty of making your own choices, but it does mean be pleased with what pleases God, and in this manner after all you will do as you please, it means the glad acceptance of God's choices. And so, after all, you do have your own way because it is God's way, it means liberty and choice to do everything right and nothing wrong, or to do right in all directions and wrong in none. May God bring all His children out of slavery and into freedom for Jesus' sake. In the memorable discourse of the Lord Jesus with His disciples at the last supper, as given by John in the 14th, 15th and 16th chapters of his gospel, He told them of the blessed Comforter, "which is the Holy Ghost," whom the Father would send in His name, and as to the method of His coming He says, "If a man love Me, he will keep My words; and My Father will love him, and We will come unto him and make Our abode with him." Here, I think, beyond a doubt, that the "We" refers to the Father and the Son, and the manner of Their coming and indwelling in the heart of the believer is through Their representative, the Holy Spirit. And if this be true, how is it possible that such a heart in which Father, Son and Holy Ghost abide, should not be sanctified wholly? In his first Epistle, the beloved apostle develops beautifully the doctrine of perfect love. He declares that God's children must not walk in darkness or sin, and that those who do so cannot, truthfully, claim to have fellowship with Him. "But if we walk in the light, as He is in the light, we have fellowship one with another," (which implies fellowship with God) "and the blood of Jesus Christ, His Son, cleanseth from all sin." This is a very striking and all-important statement. The verb is in the present tense, and denotes a present and a continuous action. It cleanseth persistently and continuously. You trust in Jesus this moment, and the blood cleanseth now, another moment and it cleanseth, and thus on, without intermission or cessation. And the cleansing is from all sin, sin committed and sin inbred, sin in act, word or thought, sin outward and sin inward, sin open and sin secret, sin of knowledge and sin of ignorance, literally and truly all sin. If this does not mean entire sanctification, what use is there in language as an expression of thought? Surely none. But the objection is strongly urged by some that the next verse assures us that "If we say that we have no sin we deceive ourselves and the truth is not in us." But why sunder this verse from its appropriate connections? Were there not Pharisees in the time of Christ who would not admit that they were sinners, and would not accept the baptism of repentance from John the Baptist? And did not the Apostle John live to see the germs of incipient gnosticism showing themselves in the church, assuming, like modern Christian science, that all evil is in matter, the soul is immaculate, and some Gnostics even believing that it was possible to have fellowship with God while living in all kinds of sensual indulgence and licentiousness, and moreover denying the reality of the incarnation of Christ, as also of the crucifixion and resurrection? These were the Docetists or Phantasiasts, so well described by Longfellow: "Ah, to how many faith has been No evidence of things unseen, But a dim shadow, which recasts The creed of the Phantasiasts, For whom no man of sorrows died: For whom the tragedy divine Was but a symbol and a sign, And Christ a phantom crucified." Now John in the passage referred to, tells us that on certain conditions it is possible to experience through the blood of Christ, which means simply the merits of His atoning and vicarious sacrifice, a complete cleansing from all sin, and then turning to those who deny that they are sinners, he exclaims, and if we say that we have no sin, and therefore do not need this cleansing, and can do without this atonement, then we deceive ourselves and the truth is not in us. How much more rational is such an interpretation than the exposition which makes one verse contradict the other, and represents the apostle as first assuring us that we may be cleansed from all sin, and then declaring in effect. "But be sure to remember that this cleansing is never really affected, and you are never really without sin." There are so many rich and blessed teachings in this epistle that we must needs make selection and leave many passages to be carefully and prayerfully pondered by the reader, with the assurance that there is very much gold to be found for the digging; but we would call attention in a special manner to John's description of perfect love. "There is no fear in love; but perfect love casteth out fear, because fear hath torment. He that feareth is not made perfect in love." It is clearly to be inferred from these expressions that whilst all Christians do and must love God, yet there is a stage denominated perfect love, which many Christians have not yet reached. And this stage of religious experience is marked distinctly by the absence of fear. Most certainly our apostle does not mean for us to understand that we shall ever get beyond that reverential and filial fear, which is the right and proper accompaniment of our childlike relation to our Heavenly Father. But he specially describes the fear that will be gotten rid of as tormenting fear, and this fear he declares that "perfect love casteth out." Now we can readily see the reasonableness of this statement. Fear about the future, whether as to temporal or spiritual things, fear of evil tidings, fear of man, fear of death, in short, all tormenting fear is caused by the presence of inbred sin. As a matter of course, therefore, when sin is cast out, fear is cast out with it. Now perfect love is the positive side of entire sanctification; it implies the absence of inbred sin and the unmixed love of God occupying the soul. Such love, therefore, most truly must cast out fear. The impenitent sinner neither fears nor loves God. The awakened sinner fears him, but does not love Him. The justified believer both fears and loves. Sometimes the fear is in the ascendant and sometimes the love. The entirely sanctified believer loves with all his heart, and has no tormenting fear. Praise the Lord. And the beloved apostle instructs us also as to the method of obtaining the blessing of perfect love. It is by the prayer of faith, and the prayer of faith involves the idea of a preceding entire consecration. "For," says John, "if our heart condemn us, God is greater than our heart," which probably signifies that He also will condemn us, and, therefore, we cannot utter a believing prayer for such a blessing as entire sanctification while we are not wholly given up to the Lord, for while that is our case, our heart will continue to condemn us. But he continues, "If our heart condemn us not, then have we confidence towards God." And again, "This is the confidence that we have in Him, that if we ask anything according to His will, He heareth us; and if we know that He hear us, whatsoever we ask we know that we have the petitions that we desired of Him." Nowhere is the philosophy of the plan of full salvation more beautifully portrayed than in these precious words. We are shown here that (1), the seeker of entire sanctification must be wholly consecrated to God. (2), That he must pray in faith. (3), That he must pray according to God's will. (4), That then he may know that he has the very thing he asks for. Here is wisdom. Let every seeker act upon it. Amen. Nor does John leave us in doubt as to the witness of the Spirit to our conscious cleansing. "If we love one another" (i.e. with a true and pure and unselfish and self-sacrificing Christian love) "God dwelleth in us and His love is perfected in us." "Hereby know we that we dwell in Him and He in us, because He hath given us of His Spirit." Now to have God's love perfected in us, and to have Him to dwell in us, can mean nothing less than entire sanctification, and we know this, as John tells us, by His Spirit. We have, therefore, the witness of the Spirit to perfect love as well as to adoption. CHAPTER X. ENTIRE SANCTIFICATION AS TAUGHT BY JAMES AND JUDE. James and Jude were brothers. They were also "brethren of the Lord." Whether this expression means actual brothers, namely, children of Joseph and Mary, or whether it means only cousins, also whether these two men were apostles or not, are questions which I leave to the Biblical critics. Receiving without argument their respective epistles as belonging to the inspired canon, I am to inquire what their teaching is in reference to the one theme of this book, that is, entire sanctification. James, as a writer, is intensely practical. As Bishop of Jerusalem he presided specially over the Jewish Christian Church, and his epistle is addressed "to the twelve tribes which are scattered abroad," i.e., to the Jews of the Dispersion, primarily, no doubt, to the Christian Jews, but also secondarily and by way of warning to the unconverted Jews. James was "zealous of the law." He fully agreed with Paul and with Peter that the yoke of circumcision and the Mosaic law was not to be imposed upon the Gentile Churches, but he, no doubt, strongly insisted that Jewish converts should be still very careful to observe the outward law. His epistle is like Matthew's gospel, and savors strongly of the Sermon on the Mount. As a bishop and overseer of a Jewish flock of Christians, while he fully assented to Paul's teaching on justification by faith, he, nevertheless, urged upon the people with vehemence that they should show their faith by their works and that they should be "doers of the word and not hearers only." As Paul completely demolishes the doctrine of salvation by the works of the law, so James in his epistle offers us an inspired and a vigorous protest against every form of Antinomianism. Thus the two writers, both moved by the Holy Ghost, present the two aspects of gospel truth so plainly that he may run that readeth. "We are saved by faith, not by works," says Paul. "Aye," says James, "but we are saved in good works, not out of them," and we must be careful to maintain good works, not in order to be saved, but because we are saved. Good works are necessary, not as the ground or the cause of salvation, but as the fruit and resultant and test of the salvation which we have received by faith. James, therefore, is not antagonistic to, but only complementary of the great apostle of the Gentiles. And mark how he strikes or aims right at the mark of Christian perfection in the very beginning of his epistle. He assures us that if we let patience have her perfect work, we shall be perfect and entire, wanting nothing. Christian perfection, then, according to James, is perfect patience. Christian perfection according to John, is perfect love. Christian perfection, according to Paul, is maturity or being "thoroughly furnished unto all good works." Christian perfection, according to Peter, is in being established, strengthened, settled. Surely none but a caviller will find any want of harmony between these different modes of expression. They all imply deliverance from sin, which is always instantaneous, and some of them imply a mature Christian character, which is always gradual. James gives a vivid description of inbred sin under the name of lust. "Every man is tempted when he is drawn away of his own lust and enticed. Then when lust hath conceived it bringeth forth (actual) sin; and sin when it is finished bringeth forth death." We cannot doubt that James, like the other writers of the Bible, believed in a personal devil, for he speaks of a wisdom which is "devilish" and if a man is enticed to sin by the natural depravity of his heart, we must not overlook the fact that the enticement implies an enticer, and that the wicked spiritual adversary of our race knows how to adapt his baits to the peculiar form in which inbred sin is strongest in each individual, and thus, if possible, to entrap and destroy him. Depravity exists by nature in all, but in one man it is particularly felt in the direction of covetousness, in another, of pride, in another, of ambition, in another, of sensuality. Satan's temptations in the first of these would most likely be something which holds out the prospect of getting gain by sinning; in the second, it would be something to feed his intense admiration of self, to cherish his pride; in the third, it would be the hope of political or some other kind of power on the condition of sacrificing principle; in the fourth, it would be the gratification of bodily appetites as in drunkenness, gluttony, or licentiousness. Thus the trap is set for every man, and the trapper is wary. God save us from his wiles. And as Peter tells us to lay aside inbred sin, as it exists in the form of malice, and guile, and hypocrisies, and envies, and shows itself in evil speakings, so James tells us to lay apart "all filthiness and superfluity of naughtiness," or "overflowing of wickedness." Ah, beloved, most truly did Jesus say that the heart of man is a fountain of wickedness, out of the heart of man proceed evil thoughts and all actual sins; yes, there is by nature in each one of us a superfluity of naughtiness, an overflowing of wickedness, a natural depravity, an inbred sin, and this must be "laid apart," it must be gotten rid of by bringing and subjecting the heart where it dwells to the fiery baptism with the Holy Ghost, and then shall we be in a position to receive, with meekness, the engrafted word, which is able to save our souls. St. James speaks of the "law of liberty," and of the "royal law," the latter being, "Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself," and both mean, I apprehend, just what we have already alluded to as the law of love. "Love," says Paul, "is the fulfilling of the law," and this is liberty, and this is royalty, the freedom to do God's will because we love it, and to have all the antagonisms to that blessed will expelled from our hearts, and all lawful affections and passions subdued and subjected to Him who is our King, and who reigns without a rival in our hearts. "I worship Thee, sweet will of God, And all Thy ways adore; And every day I live, I seem To love Thee more and more." If this is not the true liberty and the true royalty, where shall we find them? Not on earth, at least. James does not spend words in exhorting us to seek more religion, but he tersely defines pure religion. And that is what we want. It does not depend upon age, nor size, nor growth. A stalk of corn may be pure as soon as it raises itself above the surface of the ground. Another stalk may be impure and diseased when it is many feet in height. A Christian may seek and find pure religion and undefiled, very soon after he is born again. Another Christian may spend years and years in seeking more religion, and yet not become the possessor of purity of heart. This pure religion, according to our author, consists in works of beneficence and love as to its outward manifestations, but its true inward principle is in keeping one's self "unspotted from the world." Oh, that all my readers with myself, may thus keep themselves unspotted from the world, which involves the idea of being sanctified wholly, and in the end "may be found of Him in peace without spot and blameless." But an objector here interposes with a quotation from James which is supposed to preclude the possibility of living without sin. "In many things we offend all." But this expression is not to be thus interpreted. To make it mean that all Christians must continue in the commission of sin to the end of their lives, would not only be doing violence to that which is the very trend of our author's teaching, namely, a spotless morality and a pure and holy life, but it would also prove too much. For a little further on we read, in reference to that unruly evil, the tongue, "Therewith bless we God, even the Father; and therewith curse we men which are made after the similitude of God," and again, "Behold, we put bits in the horses' mouths that they may obey us, and we turn about their whole body." Surely no expositor would maintain from such language that James was a tamer of horses and a profane swearer. The truth is, that James, out of kindness and courtesy, includes himself among his hearers or readers, and means to show us how liable we are to give offence through rash and ill-advised words, and then, on the other hand, he does not fail to mention the man who does not offend in word, and who is able, by the grace of God, to bridle the whole body, that is, to live without sin, and whom, again, he styles a "perfect man." Our author further informs us that heavenly, divine wisdom is first pure, then peaceable. The carnal Christian, or babe in Christ, would often reverse this arrangement. He is clamorous for peace, often to the extent that he would have a wisdom that is first peaceable and then pure, but the Holy Ghost puts purity first, and He is always right. No compromise must be made with error in doctrine, or evil in practice, even for the sake of peace. But when we become possessors of a wisdom which is first pure, then, also, the other qualities follow in proper succession, peaceable, gentle, easy to be entreated and the rest. Listen, again, to the stern moralist and preacher of holiness, "Cleanse your hands, ye sinners, and purify your hearts, ye double minded." Here, again, we can but thankfully admire the perfect accuracy of the Holy Ghost, as regards the method of full salvation. To cleanse the hands is to obtain pardon and absolution for what we have done, and it is always the first work of the unsaved man to repent and seek the forgiveness of his sins. When this forgiveness has been obtained, then his hands are cleansed, but he may still be double-minded. He may still be unstable in all his ways. His spiritual course may still be zig-zag. His life may still be a series of sinning and repenting, and sinning again and repenting again, till he cries out in his misery, "O wretched man that I am, who (not what) shall deliver me from this body of death?" And then James's prescription comes home to him, "Purify your hearts, ye double-minded." Seek and obtain the blessing of entire sanctification, and, henceforth, with one mind and one purpose, run joyfully in the way of Christ's commandments. Justification first and entire sanctification afterwards. First cleanse your hands, then purify your hearts. And with this agree the words of the Psalmist, "Who shall ascend into the hill of the Lord? or who shall stand in His holy place?" "He that hath clean hands," that is, whose sins have been pardoned, "and a pure heart," that is, who has been sanctified wholly. The teachings of the Holy Ghost are marvelously harmonious in the Old Testament and the New. Finally, James assures us that the "prayer of faith shall save the sick, and the Lord shall raise him up." And not only physical but spiritual blessing may be received in the same way for "If he have committed sins, they shall be forgiven him." His conclusion is that "The supplication of a righteous man availeth much in its working," R.V., but I prefer to regard the Greek participle in the original as in the passive voice, and then the meaning would be, as suggested by Dr. S.A. Keen in his Faith papers, "The prayer of a righteous man being energized" (by the Holy Ghost) "availeth much." I should understand the "prayer of faith," therefore, to be a prayer begotten in the heart of the believer by the Holy Ghost, and with the prayer is communicated also the corresponding faith, and when this is the case, the answer is sure. Faith, in this use of the word, is a special gift, and may be given to some and withheld from others, also given at one time and withheld at another, just as God in His infinite and unerring wisdom may decide. This kind of faith is one of the special gifts of which we have an account in the 12th of 1st Corinthians, and differs, therefore, from the grace of faith or the power of believing the gospel unto salvation when it is presented, which is given to all men, and for the exercise of which, by actually believing, all are held responsible. "He that believeth shall be saved, and he that believeth not shall be condemned." And it is Jude, the brother of James, who exhorts his readers to pray in the Holy Ghost, the very same kind of praying which James calls the prayer of faith, and about which Paul also declares that "the Spirit Himself also helpeth our infirmities, for we know not what we should pray for as we ought; but the Spirit Himself maketh intercession for with groanings which cannot be uttered. And He that searcheth the hearts knoweth what is the mind of the Spirit, because He maketh intercession for the saints according to the will of God." A Holy Ghost prayer, therefore, such as Jude alludes to, is a prayer that is energized by the Holy Ghost. It is not the Holy Ghost who does the groaning, but He causes the heart of the consecrated believer to groan, by kindling those intense desires after some specific blessing, which often are, indeed, too deep for clear expression by utterance, and with the groanings, also, the faith is given, which takes hold of God's Almightiness for the answer. Such prayers do, indeed, move the hand that moves the world, and whether it be for the healing of the sick, or the conversion of sinners, or the entire sanctification of believers, or the supply of temporal needs, or anything else which the Holy Spirit may suggest, the blessing is sure to come. I am not forgetting that the assistance of the Holy Spirit is needed, and that it is obtainable in all true prayer, but ordinary prayer must be founded upon the promises of God and an exercise of will power to believe those promises, and therefore, it must be accompanied, in order to be effectual, by ordinary faith, the act of believing. Extraordinary prayer must be inspired directly by the Holy Spirit, and the gift of faith must come directly from Him. So that we have ordinary prayer, ordinary faith and ordinary results in the one case, while in the other, we have extraordinary prayer, extraordinary faith and extraordinary results. Praise the Lord. Jude tells us that as Christian believers we are to "hate even the garment spotted by the flesh," that is, to keep entirely clear of all the pollutions of sin, symbolized by the garment of the leper which was regarded as unclean, and which passage, when spiritually interpreted, must mean the unspotted holiness of the true Christian. And as to the question of one's ability to live without sin, he commits us to the care of Him who is "able to keep us from falling," the very thing we need and which we cannot do for ourselves, and "to present us faultless before the presence of His glory with exceeding joy." First, then, we are to be sanctified wholly, then kept from falling by the power of Christ through the indwelling Spirit. Finally, presented without spot, blameless and faultless in the presence of God's glory in heaven. And this is the gospel according to Jude. CHAPTER XI. SANCTIFIED BY GOD THE FATHER. There is one expression in the epistle of Jude, which I purposely omitted in the preceding chapter, that it might have a more prominent place in the present one. Nowhere else in the Bible are we expressly declared to be "sanctified by God the Father." It is cause of rejoicing, however, that every person of the Godhead, every member of the adorable Trinity, is concerned in the sanctification of a human soul. And this fact, like many others, points to the extreme importance of the subject on which we are treating; for if the working of God the Father, God the Son and God the Holy Spirit is required, and is brought into active operation in order to cleanse our hearts from the pollution of sin, and fit us for heaven, then it must be in the estimation of the triune God, a matter of prime necessity that we should be thus cleansed. If God, therefore, regards it as an essential that we be sanctified wholly, let us beware of the thought that it is only optional, that it is possible, if possible at all, only for the few and not for the many, and that it can be done without, or what is practically too nearly the same thing, postponed until we see, or think we see, the near approach of death. What every person of the Godhead is urging upon our acceptance now, let us not dare either to reject or postpone. "Behold, now is the accepted time; behold, now is the day of salvation." Paul said to the Ephesian elders at Miletus, "And now, brethren, I commend you to God, and to the word of His grace, which is able to build you up and to give you an inheritance among all them which are sanctified." Ah, beloved reader, we can never estimate the debt we owe to the unbounded grace of God. Grace means unmerited favor. Grace is God's infinite love in active working for the salvation of man. And, the source of our sanctification, just as of our justification, and indeed of every gospel blessing provided for us, is the grace of God. And when our souls are stirred up to ecstatic gratitude and love, by the thought of the "unspeakable gift" of the Lord Jesus Christ, and of the unspeakable blessings derived from and through Him, let us not forget that behind it all and over it all, is the broad and incomprehensible declaration, "God so loved the world, that He gave His only begotten Son." Absolute sovereignty, authority, supremacy and paternity belong to God the Father. The Father sends the Son. The Father and the Son send the Holy Spirit. Neither the Son nor the Spirit, nor both together, ever send the Father. The Father "created all things by Jesus Christ." Jesus Christ cast out devils "by the Spirit of God." The Son reveals the Father, for "no man knoweth the Father save the Son, and he to whomsoever the Son will reveal Him." And the Holy Spirit reveals Jesus, for "no man can say that Jesus is Lord but by the Holy Ghost." "He shall testify of Me." "He shall take of Mine and show it unto you." "He shall not speak of Himself; but what He shall hear" (from the Father and the Son) "that shall He speak." Thus the greatest gift that God the Father has given or could give to His creature man is the gift of His Son. The greatest gift that God the Son has given to man after He gave Himself for us is the gift of the Holy Ghost, for it is not only said, "I will pray the Father and He shall give you another Comforter," and "whom the Father will send in My name," but also, "If I depart I will send Him unto you," so we may say in general terms, that the Holy Ghost as a personal sanctifier, energizer and Comforter, is the promise of the Father and the gift of the Son. And it may be added that the greatest gift of the Holy Spirit to man is the gift of entire sanctification or perfect love. Glory be to God the Father, God the Son and God the Holy Ghost. Amen. And thus when Jude tells us that we are sanctified by God the Father, He means not only that we are separated unto the gospel of life and salvation, set apart to God and His service, but, also, that God the Father has made ample provision in the death of His Son for all Christian believers to be cleansed from every stain of moral defilement, delivered from inbred sin, sanctified wholly, made perfect in love, and filled with the Spirit. We repeat, therefore, that it will be a matter of eternal thankfulness and gratitude to the redeemed soul, that the source of all these unspeakable blessings is in the infinite grace and love of God. Everywhere throughout the Old Testament, the holiness of God is brought prominently forward and insisted upon. And His own holiness is presented as a sufficient reason why His people should be holy also. "Be ye holy, for I am holy," which command and declaration are repeated and endorsed by the Apostle Peter in his first epistle, "But as He which hath called you is holy, so be ye holy in all manner of conversation, because it is written, Be ye holy, for I am holy." As God the Father, therefore, is Himself infinitely holy, and He requires all His children to be holy even in the present life, it goes without saying, as already shown, that He makes provision in His gospel for them to be made and kept holy. And it is precisely the standard of God's holiness which is set before us by the Saviour as the mark at which we also are to aim, and aim not vainly nor unsuccessfully. "Be ye perfect even as your Father in heaven is perfect." Not that our perfection or our holiness can be equal to His in degree. That would make the finite equal to the infinite, and would be an impossibility and absurdity, but that we are to be perfect in our sphere as He is perfect in His, that we are to be holy with the same kind of holiness that appertains to Him, in a word, that we are to be perfect in love as He is perfect love, and that we are to be delivered from all sin, not by any effort or any merit of our own but by His unmerited grace in Christ Jesus. Let us rejoice and praise His name that we are sanctified by God the Father. CHAPTER XII. SANCTIFIED BY GOD THE SON. As the source of our entire sanctification is in the unmerited love and grace of God the Father, so the ground of it is in the blood of Christ the Son. Justification and Sanctification are by no means identical, but as regards the origin, the ground, and the means, they are precisely parallel. We are told that justification is by grace, and, again, that it is by the blood of Jesus, and, still again, that it is by faith. It is, therefore, God's grace, it is Christ's blood, it is man's faith by which we are justified. The originating cause of our justification is the grace of God. The procuring cause is the blood of Jesus Christ. The instrumental cause is our own faith. And all this is equally true of our entire sanctification. We are not justified in one way and sanctified in another. We are sanctified as well as justified by the grace of God. We are sanctified as well as justified by the blood of Christ. We are sanctified as well as justified by our own faith. All gospel blessings are founded upon the vicarious sacrifice of the Lord Jesus Christ. He "of God is made unto us wisdom and righteousness, (justification) and sanctification and redemption." And sanctification, no more than justification, releases us from our dependence upon the atonement. If we are either justified or sanctified today it is not because we deserve it, but because Christ died for us. If we shall be either justified or sanctified at any future period of our eternity, it will not be because we deserve it but because Christ died for us. And so forever and forever we shall need the merit of His death, and we shall rejoice to join in the song of redemption "unto Him that loved us, and washed us from our sins in His own blood, and hath made us kings and priests unto God and His Father; to Him be glory and dominion forever and ever. Amen." We are everlastingly linked to the atonement of Jesus Christ, and this both for the pardon of past sins, and the entire cleansing of the heart. "Thou shalt call His name Jesus because He shall save His people from their sins," which signifies, I apprehend, both the forgiveness of sins already committed and saving them from the commission of sins in the future. Here, then, we have justification and regeneration. "Behold the Lamb of God who taketh away the sin of the world." This must mean the sin of our nature, the sin that dwelleth in us, the sin that doth so easily beset us, in a word, inbred sin. And to have the inbred sin taken away means nothing more and nothing less and nothing else, than entire sanctification. Yes, beloved, we are sanctified by God the Son. "The blood of Jesus Christ, His Son, cleanseth us from all sin." Here we have a positive statement that upon certain conditions to be fulfilled by us, we shall experience a cleansing from outward sin, and inward sin, and sin of ignorance, and conscious sin, and open sin and secret sin, and all sin. There is no mistaking the length and breadth and all comprehensiveness of this glorious promise. Beloved, let us walk in the light as He is in the light, and so know, for ourselves, that this wondrous declaration is divinely true. And this is a result of His atoning sacrifice, which result He had in view, no less than the removal of our guilt when He laid down His life for us. "Wherefore, Jesus, also, that He might sanctify the people with His own blood, suffered without the gate." Glory to His Name. He died, therefore, not alone that we might be saved from guilt and condemnation and penalty, but that we might be saved from sin, or sanctified wholly. And I would that every one of my Christian readers might unite in the hymn. "The cleansing stream I see, I see, I plunge and oh, it cleanseth me. It cleanseth me. Yes, cleanseth me." CHAPTER XIII. SANCTIFIED BY GOD THE HOLY GHOST. As already intimated all the persons of the adorable Trinity are concerned in the work of entirely sanctifying a human soul. And this is naturally to be expected, because God is one Trinitarianism is not Tritheism. In essence one, in personality three, such is the revelation of Holy Scripture in regard to the eternal Godhead. The Bible reveals the fact, but does not reveal the how. We bow in adoring gratitude and love before an incomprehensible mystery, and rejoice in believing even without understanding. Now the Holy Spirit is regarded by nearly all Christians as distinctively and specially the Sanctifier, "The renewing of the Holy Ghost which He shed on us abundantly through Jesus Christ, our Saviour," is spoken of in the epistle to Titus in direct connection with the "washing of regeneration," and seems intended to be experienced just after it. Possibly the renewing here spoken of, may signify only the change of heart wrought by the Holy Ghost at the new birth, but possibly, also, the apostle had in mind the entire cleansing of the heart from sin. And in that case the renewing need not be any more gradual or progressive than the washing, which all admit to be instantaneous. Peter, in describing, to the Church at Jerusalem, the occurrences which he had witnessed at the house of Cornelius in Cesarea, used this language: "And God which knoweth the hearts, bare them witness, giving them the Holy Ghost, even as He did unto us, and put no difference between us and them, purifying their hearts by faith." Evidently here the chief of the apostles gives us to understand that the giving of the Holy Ghost, and the purifying of the heart by faith, are co-instantaneous and identical experiences. And if this be so, the Holy Ghost, who is a Divine person, and not a mere influence, must be the effective agent in purifying the heart, that is to say, it is He who by His Divine energy sanctifies us wholly. And with this agree the words of John the Baptist: "I indeed baptize you with water, unto repentance, but He that cometh after me is mightier than I, whose shoes I am not worthy to bear. He shall baptize you with the Holy Ghost and with fire." For what purpose is this fiery baptism with the Holy Ghost? Most certainly that it may consume the inbred sin of our nature, as fire consumes the chaff, or destroys the alloy that the gold may be left pure. Paul in his epistle to the Romans uses the following language, viz: "That I should be the minister of Jesus Christ to the Gentiles, ministering the gospel of God that the offering up of the Gentiles might be acceptable, being sanctified by the Holy Ghost." This great apostle was the first to clearly understand the perfect equality between Jew and Gentile in the gospel of salvation, and as he made hundreds of Gentile converts in His extensive missionary journeys, and offered them up with their own consent and co-operation in entire consecration to God, they were sanctified by the Holy Ghost. The same apostle says to the Thessalonians, "We are bound to give thanks always to God for you, brethren, beloved of the Lord, because God hath from the beginning chosen you to salvation through sanctification of the Spirit and belief of the truth." This is the true election and the true salvation, a salvation from sin, through sanctification of the Spirit and this is to be obtained by faith. And the apostle of the circumcision uses language very similar in addressing the Jewish Christians who are scattered abroad, and whom he addresses as "Elect according to the foreknowledge of God the Father, through sanctification of the Spirit, unto obedience and sprinkling of the blood of Jesus Christ." Comparing these two citations we observe again, that the blood of Jesus Christ is the ground of our sanctification, and by a continuous sprinkling we may have a continuous cleansing, and also that the Holy Spirit is the effective agent in applying that precious blood, and in sanctifying our souls, on condition that we believe the truth. God help all Christians to be not faithless, but believing. CHAPTER XIV. SANCTIFIED BY THE TRUTH. We have just seen that the Spirit operates in the work of sanctification in connection with belief of the truth on our part. And with this agree the words of our Lord in His intercessory prayer. "Sanctify them through Thy truth. Thy word is truth." The word here is not the eternal Logos, but God's revealed truth as given in Holy writ. And it is a statement of the highest importance, made by Him who is the truth, that the medium or means of our sanctification is in the truth of God as made known to us in the gospel of His Son. Here, again, the Apostle Peter gives expression to the same sentiment when he says: "Whereby are given unto us exceeding great and precious promises; that by these ye might be partakers of the Divine nature having escaped the corruption that is in the world through lust." If we are favored to escape the corruption that is in the world, we are sanctified wholly, and this is effected, Peter says, not by works of righteousness, not by resolutions or penances, not by striving to do holiness, before we seek to be holy, but by faith in the promises of God. These promises are very numerous, and varied in character on the pages of the Bible. By seizing upon them as written specially for us, we make them our own, and they become in and by Jesus Christ yea and amen, that is to say, we realize them in our own experience to be the truth, and thus when we read "This is the will of God even your sanctification," or, "The very God of peace sanctify you wholly," or, "I will circumcise your heart," or "I will put my Spirit within you and cause you to walk in my statutes," immediately the truth is impressed upon our hearts as a glorious reality, and we are enabled to reckon ourselves dead, indeed, unto sin, and alive unto God, and to realize that the Saviour's prayer is answered and we are in His own blessed words, sanctified "by the truth." If any reader will take a concordance and look for the word truth, and search out the passages containing it, he will be convinced that, however men may look at it, we have to do with the Lord God of truth, and that His estimate of truth is so high that He will by no means countenance any person or anything that liveth or maketh a lie. And if we would honor Him, we must honor His truth, the truth that is to make us free from the bondage of inbred sin, the truth which we are commanded to buy, whatever may be the price, and sell it not, the truth which the Lord desires in the inward parts as well as upon the lips, the truth of God, the truth of holiness, the truth by which we are sanctified, the truth of the word. And then we shall find in our own experience that "A God of truth and without iniquity, just and right is He," that He will send out His light and His truth that they may bring us to His holy hill and to His tabernacle, that He has given us a banner, even the banner of holiness to the Lord, to be displayed because of the truth, and we must never let it trail in the dust, that His truth shall be our shield and buckler, and that while the law was given by Moses, grace and truth came by Jesus Christ. Glory be to His precious name forever, who is the truth. CHAPTER XV. SANCTIFIED BY FAITH. The faith-faculty was given to man at His first creation. Adam believed God and was obedient and happy, and the first thing that the wily tempter attacked, and, alas, with too much success, was man's faith. "Yea," hath God said, and "Ye shall not surely die." First, a question. Then, a doubt of God's truth; then, a doubt of His love, and the rest was easy. Man stood so long as he did stand by faith. He fell when he did fall by unbelief. God could not be God if He did not have faith in Himself. Man could not be the child of God if he did not have faith in God. Faith binds us in the closest spiritual union with our Father in heaven. Unbelief severs this bond of union and separates us from our Creator and Redeemer. Beloved, let us have faith in God. "Ye are all the children of God by faith in Jesus Christ." This is the Christian's pedigree. It is true that in a broad and subordinate sense all men are the children of God since He created them all. And this was known even to a Greek poet, as quoted by Paul at Athens, "For we are also His offspring." But we must not fail to remember that in John's gospel we have this statement, viz: "As many as received Him, to them gave He power to become the sons of God, even to them that believe on His name." So that it is through faith that we become the children of God, not only by creation, not only by adoption, but by birth, "Ye must be born again." "Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ and thou shalt be saved." "He that believeth on the Son hath everlasting life: and he that believeth not the Son shall not see life, but the wrath of God abideth on him." Now, the faith-faculty, or the grace of faith, or the power of believing God's truth, when it is presented, is given to all mankind. But the exercise of that power which is actual and saving faith, often requires the coöperation of the human will. And, therefore, God commands us to believe, and holds us responsible for obedience to that command. "He that believeth and is baptized shall be saved; but he that disbelieveth shall be condemned." R.V. Thus, it is that we are saved by faith. And this is true not only in religion, but in science as well, and not in science only, but in daily life and daily business as well. Many of the well-established truths of science are matters of faith, and not of demonstration. All intelligent people believe that there is a hidden force which they call the attraction of gravitation. Nobody can tell what it is, nobody can prove its existence. It is received and adopted by faith, and serves as an excellent working hypothesis. That is all. Those who accept the undulatory theory of light are necessitated to believe that all space is pervaded by an exceedingly tenuous fluid which is called ether, and that it is in this medium that the waves of light from self-luminous bodies are produced. Nobody has demonstrated the existence of this ether. It is, for the present, accepted by faith, and explains the phenomena of light better than any other hypothesis propounded. Science is saved by faith. The home is saved by faith. If want of confidence comes between the husband and wife, or between parents and children, farewell to all the enjoyment of home life. Finance, commerce, trade are all saved by faith. When business men, manufacturers or merchants lose faith in one another, or in their government, investments cease, machinery stops, panics occur, and hard times are complained of. As faith is the bond that binds men to God, so it is the bond that binds men one to another. When confidence is lost, all is lost. Even a solvent bank may be broken, from a sudden run upon it, caused by want of faith. Now, as faith is the substance of things hoped for, because it makes them real, as it is the evidence of things not seen, because it convinces the mind of the actual existence of the invisible, let us apply this thought to the matter in hand that, namely, of entire sanctification. Paul in his valedictory to the Ephesian elders said to them, "And now, brethren, I commend you to God and to the word of His grace, which is able to build you up and give you an inheritance among all them which are sanctified," and in the commission to Paul himself the Saviour says, "To open their eyes, and to turn them from darkness to light, and from the power of Satan unto God, that they may receive forgiveness of sins, and inheritance among them which are sanctified by faith that is in me." And as mentioned elsewhere, sanctification of the Spirit is used by the apostle in direct connection with belief of the truth. There can be no doubt, therefore, that the instrumental means of entire sanctification is faith in the Lord Jesus Christ. "This is the confidence," says the beloved John, "that we have in Him, that if we ask anything according to His will, He heareth us, and if we know that He hear us whatsoever we ask, we know that we have the petitions that we desired of Him." Let the consecrated believer, then, ask for a clean heart, ask for perfect love, ask for entire sanctification, ask for the baptism with the Holy Ghost, and he knows he is asking according to the will of God. Then, according to John, he knows that he is heard, and knows also by faith, because it is God's promise that he has the petitions he desired of Him. That is to say, when he thus prays, he is to put forth the act of faith, by an actual volition and will to believe that he has the clean heart, the perfect love, the entire sanctification, the Holy Ghost baptism, which he asked for. And this will be honoring God by taking Him at His word. It will be the first evidence that he is sanctified wholly, the evidence of faith, and the other evidence, the witness of the Spirit may be prayed for and waited for, but, in the meantime, he can and must rely with unwavering confidence upon the evidence or witness of faith alone. God never sends the witness of the Spirit till we honor Him by accepting the witness of faith. I said we must believe by an act of the will. And some reader may object to this statement by asserting that faith or belief is not a matter of volition, but a matter of evidence. But I am not asking any one to believe without evidence. I am asking him simply to give its rightful force to the evidence. It is not for want of evidence that any earnest, consecrated seeker is failing to believe that Christ is able and willing to sanctify him wholly, and to do it now. He asserts it in many forms and repeats it again and again as His Divine will that His people should be holy, and if He is not able to make them holy here and now, His omnipotence is impugned, and if He is not willing to make them holy here and now, He must desire them to continue longer in sin, which thought would impugn His own holiness. No, it is not for want of evidence, but because the faith-faculty has become weakened and paralyzed by sin, and now we must determine to believe, by putting our will on to the side of faith, and allowing it, no longer, to remain on the side of unbelief. Many a seeking soul has come out into the fullness of salvation by singing the hymn: "I can, I will, I do believe That Jesus saves me now." The man who came to Jesus with his right hand withered, was told to stretch it forth. He might have said where is my evidence that it will do any good to try? But he put his will into the obedient attitude. He willed to stretch it forth, and made the effort, and with the obedient will the power came from Jesus, and he stretched it forth and was restored. To every one of weak and paralyzed faith, I say, nay, Jesus says, "Stretch forth thy hand of faith, I am here to be responsible for the result." Believe and receive and confess and rejoice. Beloved, we are sanctified by faith. Glory to the Lamb. CHAPTER XVI. CONCLUSION. I trust it has been sufficiently demonstrated that the doctrine and experience of entire sanctification are fully and clearly taught in Holy Scripture. All the way from the patriarchs to the apostles in the law, in the types, in the Psalms, in the prophets, in the history, in the gospels, in the epistles, we find that God requires His people to be holy and to be holy now, that He makes it, therefore, their privilege to be holy, and that He has made ample provision, in the sacrificial offering of Christ, for them to be made holy. "For their sakes," says the blessed Saviour, "I sanctify Myself that they also might be sanctified through the truth," or as the margin, "truly sanctified," or as the Revised Version, "that they themselves also may be sanctified in truth." The Lord Jesus Christ most assuredly did not need to be made holy, but all His redeemed children being subjects of inbred sin do need it. As for Him, He was the "holy thing" that was to be born of the Virgin Mary. "He knew no sin," He "did no sin," He was "holy, harmless, undefiled and separate from sinners," and, therefore, when He says "I sanctify Myself," He means nothing more nor less than I consecrate Myself, or I set Myself apart, but in the other clause where the term sanctify is used in reference to His people, it must mean that they may be cleansed from all sin entirely sanctified, made holy or pure in heart. He sets Himself apart, therefore, to the work of redemption and salvation that He may have a holy people on earth, as without controversy He must and will have a holy people in heaven. We have shown that entire sanctification is coetaneous with the baptism with the Holy Ghost, in fact, that the two experiences are in an important sense identical, or, at least, so related to each other that whoever has one has the other. It is Christ and none other who baptizes with the Holy. Ghost. "He shall baptize you with the Holy Ghost and fire," not as some imagine, I think erroneously, that there are to be two baptisms, first that of the Holy Ghost, and afterwards that of fire in the way of affliction or persecution, though plenty of these are promised and experienced by those who would live godly in Christ Jesus, but simply that He shall baptize you with the Holy Ghost under the similitude of fire, that is, that dross and tin and reprobate silver, or, in a word, all inbred sin may be consumed. Nor is it correct to say that there are "many baptisms" of the Spirit. The Holy Ghost baptism is received by the consecrated believer once for all, and is never repeated unless by unfaithfulness or backsliding he falls from the precious grace which this baptism confers upon him, from Christ through the Spirit, and again comes in repentance and confession to do his first works, and again to be filled with the Spirit and cleansed from all sin. And even in that case the Holy Ghost seldom or never repeats Himself, by giving the same emotional experience as at first, but may and must be received and retained by faith, and the amount of feeling and the kind of feeling which He will arouse must be left to Himself entirely, I mean to say that the experience may be lost and may be regained, but seldom with the same phenomena of consciousness as at the first. Do not speak, then, of having had many baptisms of the Spirit, but seek and find the one baptism with the Holy Ghost and fire. Do not say that you are desiring or that you have had a fresh baptism with the Holy Ghost, but let your thoughts and prayers be directed to the one baptism which cleanseth and endueth and anointeth. But I would not be misunderstood on this point. The Psalmist says, "I shall be anointed with fresh oil," and to every sanctified child of God, there may and do come seasons of refreshing, also of girding and filling, and fresh anointing for particular services, which are sometimes called fresh baptisms, but which are not to be confounded with the one true abiding Pentecostal experience. These blessings are not to be undervalued or lightly esteemed, but they come because we already have the Blesser Himself as a personal indwelling Presence and Power. Many teachers of holiness inculcate the doctrine that we are first sanctified by the blood of Jesus, and afterwards filled or baptized with the Holy Ghost. This opinion would necessitate three separate experiences, where, I think, the Scripture only speaks of two. We should have (1) pardon, (2) entire sanctification by the blood, and (3) the filling of the Spirit. There would thus be a separation between the removing of inbred sin from the heart, and the baptism with the Holy Ghost. This baptism would, then, be only a qualification for service. It is regarded by these teachers, as only given for an enduement of power, to do the work to which we are called. And the practical result of this error, for such with due deference I must regard it, is that some will be very anxious to obtain the baptism with the Holy Ghost to make them strong or powerful in their work, but will ignore, or even deny, the doctrine of entire sanctification. Dr. S. A. Keen tells us of a minister who wrote to him that he did not take much stock in sanctification, but that he was very desirous of the Holy Ghost baptism, in order that he might have increased power in the ministry of the word. And, indeed, this seems to be a very prevalent idea, that we are to be baptized for service, but not for cleansing. I trust that no reader who has followed me through the different chapters of this book will imagine, for a moment, that I under-value, in the slightest degree, the precious blood of Christ, nor do I forget that it is that blood which, as we walk in the light, cleanseth us from all sin. I think I have sufficiently stated elsewhere that the blood of Jesus is the procuring cause of our sanctification, as well as of our justification, and that we are forever dependent upon the atonement for the one blessing as well as the other. The blood of the Son of God is the ground of our sanctification, but it is the Holy Spirit who is the effective agent in destroying the depravity of our hearts. It is true that our Saviour received the Holy Ghost, and that God anointed Him for the great work of redemption. And in His case, the word used is anointed or descended, and not in any place baptized. He needed not the work of entire sanctification, and, therefore, He is not said to have been baptized with the Holy Ghost. As a man, He did need the energizing for His work, and, therefore, He is said to have been anointed. Beloved, let us not separate what God has joined together. The entire sanctification of the heart and the Holy Ghost baptism are coetaneous experiences, and must not be divorced. And now, beloved reader, I have accomplished my task. I have shown that like a golden thread the doctrine of entire sanctification runs through the Bible, from Genesis to Revelation. It is found in patriarchal times, it is in the law and the prophets, the types and the ceremonies, the gospels and epistles, everywhere showing us that we have to do with a Holy God, and that we as His children are required to be holy men and women. To all who shall read this book, I testify that by the grace of God, and the blood of Christ, and the sin-consuming baptism with the Holy Ghost, this poor man, the chief of sinners, is saved to the uttermost. Glory to His name. And to you, my readers, I bid farewell, and say, May He "make you perfect, stablish, strengthen, settle you." Amen. 
53616	----	Gutenberg (This file was produced from images generously made available by Cornell University Digital Collections) THE JESUS PROBLEM A RESTATEMENT OF THE MYTH THEORY BY J. M. ROBERTSON, M.P. [ISSUED FOR THE RATIONALIST PRESS ASSOCIATION, LIMITED] London: WATTS & CO., 17 JOHNSON'S COURT, FLEET STREET, E.C. 4 1917 CONTENTS PAGE Prefatory Note vii Chapter I.--THE APPROACH 1 Chapter II.--THE CENTRAL MYTH 24 § 1. The Ground of Conflict 24 § 2. The Sacrificial Rite 31 § 3. Contingent Elements 39 § 4. The Mock-King Ritual 50 § 5. Doctrinal Additions 53 § 6. Minor Ritual and Myth Elements 57 § 7. The Cross 61 § 8. The Suffering Messiah 64 § 9. The Rock Tomb 67 § 10. The Resurrection 70 Chapter III.--ROOTS OF THE MYTH 72 § 1. Historical Data 72 § 2. Prototypes 91 § 3. The Mystery-Drama 96 Chapter IV.--EVOLUTION OF THE CULT 107 § 1. The Primary Impulsion 107 § 2. The Silence of Josephus 121 § 3. The Myth of the Twelve Apostles 126 § 4. The Process of Propaganda 135 § 5. Real Determinants 148 Chapter V.--ORGANIZATION AND ECONOMICS 157 § 1. The Economic Side 157 § 2. Organization 162 Chapter VI.--EARLY BOOK-MAKING 170 § 1. The "Didachê" 170 § 2. The Apocalypse 173 § 3. Epistles 176 Chapter VII.--GOSPEL-MAKING 182 § 1. Tradition 182 § 2. Schmiedel's Tests 188 § 3. Tendential Tests 192 § 4. Historic Summary 202 Chapter VIII.--SUPPLEMENTARY MYTH 207 § 1. Myths of Healing 207 § 2. Birth Myths 209 § 3. Minor Myths 217 Chapter IX.--CONCLUSION 223 Appendix A.--TRANSLATION OF "THE TEACHING OF THE TWELVE APOSTLES," WITH NOTES 235 Appendix B.--THE MYTH OF SIMON MAGUS 248 PREFATORY NOTE Most of the propositions in mythology and anthropology in this book are founded on bodies of evidence given in the larger works of the author. It seemed fitting, therefore, to refer to those works instead of repeating hundreds of references there given. Readers concerned to investigate the issues are thus invited and enabled to do so. For brevity's sake, Christianity and Mythology is cited as C.M.; Pagan Christs as P.C.; and the Short Histories of Christianity and Freethought as S.H.C. and S.H.F. respectively. In the first three cases the references are to the second editions; in the last case, to the third. The Evolution of States is cited as E.S. Another work often referred to is Sir J. G. Frazer's great thesaurus, The Golden Bough, which is cited as G.B., the references being to the last edition. Other new references are given in the usual way. The Ecce Deus of Professor W. B. Smith is cited in the English edition. Passages in brackets, in unleaded type, may be passed at a first perusal by readers concerned mainly to follow the constructive theory. Such passages deal controversially with counter-polemic. THE JESUS PROBLEM THE APPROACH As was explained in the preamble to The Historical Jesus (1916), that work was offered as prolegomena to a concise restatement of the theory that the Gospel Jesus is a mythical construction. That theory had been discursively expounded by the writer in two large volumes, Christianity and Mythology and Pagan Christs, and summarily in A Short History of Christianity, the argument in the two former combining a negative criticism of the New Testament narrative with an exposition of the myth-evidence. Criticism having in large part taken the form of a denial that the records were unhistorical, it was necessary to clear the ground by showing that all the various attempts of the past generation to find in the gospels a historical residuum have entirely failed to meet critical tests. Those attempts, conflicting as they do with each other, and collapsing as they do in themselves, give undesigned support to the conclusion that the gospel story is without historic basis. It remains to restate with equal brevity the myth-theory which, long ago propounded on a very narrow basis, has latterly been re-developed in the light of modern mythology and anthropology, and has in recent years found rapidly increasing acceptance. Inevitably the different lines of approach have involved varieties of speculation; Professors Drews and W. B. Smith have ably and independently developed the theory in various ways; and a conspectus and restatement has become necessary for the sake of the theory itself no less than for the sake of those readers who call for a condensed statement. This in turn is in itself tentative. If the progressive analysis of the subject matter from the point of view of its historicity has meant a century and a half of debate and an immense special literature, it is not to be supposed that the theory which negates the fundamental assumptions of that literature can be fully developed and established in one lifetime, at the hands of a few writers. The problem "What really happened?" is in fact a far wider one for the advocate of the myth-theory than for the critic who undertakes to extract a biography from the documents. In its first form, as propounded by Dupuis and Volney, the myth-theory was confined simply to certain parallelisms between Christian and Pagan myth, and to the astronomical basis of a number of these. From this standpoint the actual historic inception of the cult was little considered. Strauss, again, developed with great power and precision the view that most of the detail in the gospel narrative is myth construction on the lines of Jewish prophecy and dogma. But Strauss never fully accepted the myth-theory, having always assumed the existence of a teacher as a nucleus for the whole. As apart from the continuators of Dupuis and Volney, it was Bruno Bauer who, setting out with the purpose of extracting a biography from the gospels, and finding no standing ground, first propounded a myth-theory from that point of view. His construction, being the substantially arbitrary one of a hypothetical evangelist who created a myth and thereby founded the cultus, naturally made no headway; and its artificiality strengthened the hands of those who claimed to work inductively on the documents. It was by reason of a similar failure to find a historic footing where he had at first taken it for granted that the present writer was gradually led, on lines of comparative hierology and comparative mythology and anthropology, to the conception of the evolution of the Jesus-cult from the roots of a "pre-Christian" one. The fact that this view has been independently reached by such a student as Professor W. B. Smith, who approached the problem from within rather than by way of the comparative method, seems in itself a very important confirmation. What is now to be done is to revise the general theory in the light of further study as well as of the highly important expositions of it by Professor Smith and other scholars. An attempt is now definitely made not merely to combine concisely the evidence for a pre-Christian Jesus-cult, but to show how that historically grew into "Christianity," thus substituting a defensible historical view for a mythic narrative of beginnings. And this, of course, is a heavy undertaking. The question, "What do you put in its place?" is often addressed to the destructive critic of a belief, not with any philosophic perception of the fact that complete removal is effected only by putting a tested or tenable judgment in place of an untested or untenable one, but with a sense of injury, as if a false belief were a personal possession, for the removal of which there must be "compensation." In point of fact, the destructive process is rarely attempted without a coincident process of substitution. Even to say that a particular text is spurious is to say that some one forged or inserted it where it is, for a purpose. That concept is "something in its place." Some Comtists, again, are wont to commit the contradiction of affirming that "no belief is really destroyed without replacement," and, in the next breath, of condemning rationalists who "destroy without replacing." Both propositions cannot stand. If it be meant merely to insist that explanation is replacement, and that explanation is a necessary part of a successful or complete process of destruction, the answer is that it is hardly possible even to attempt to cancel a belief without putting a different belief in its place; and that it is nearly always by way of positing a new belief that an old one is assailed. The old charge against rationalism, of "destroying without building up," is historically quite false. Almost invariably, the innovator has offered a new doctrine or conception in place of the old. True, it might not be ostensibly an equivalent, for the believer who wanted an equivalent in kind. An exploded God-idea is not for me replaceable by another God-idea: the only rational "replacement" is a substitution of a reasoned for an authoritarian cosmology and ethic. But in the way of reasoned replacements the innovators have been only too quick, in general, to formulate new conceptions, new creeds. They have really been too eager to build afresh, and many untenable formulas and hypotheses are the consequences. These very attempts, naturally, are constantly made the objects of still more hasty counter-attack. Every form of the myth-theory with which I am acquainted, whatever its defects, has been the result of much labour, and even if astray can be fairly pronounced "hasty" only in the sense that it proves to be inadequate. It is not so with most of the counter-criticism. The reader may rest assured that it is not possible for any exposition of the new theory to be as "hasty" as is usually its rejection. [1] Professional theologians who cast that epithet are in general recognizably men who believed their hereditary creed before they were able to think, and have at no later stage made good the first inevitable omission. Myth-theories, sound or unsound, are the attempts of students who find the record incredible as history to think out, in the light of the documents and of comparative mythology and hierology, the process by which it came to be produced; and even as all myth is but a form of traditionary error, so any attempt to trace its growth runs the risk of error. It is one thing to show, for instance, that the Pentateuch cannot have been written by "Moses," seen to be a non-historical figure: it is another thing to settle how the books were really made. In such cases, the "something in the place" of the tradition is to be ascertained only after long and patient investigation and counter-criticism. So with the investigation of the fabulous history of early Rome. After several scholars had set forth grounded doubts, the problem was ably and systematically handled by the French freethinker Louis de Beaufort in 1738. Early in the nineteenth century, Niebuhr, confidently undertaking "with the help of God" to get at the truth, and falsely disparaging Beaufort's work as wholly "sceptical," effected a reconstruction which has since been found to be in large measure unsound, though long acquiesced in by English students. [2] In such matters there is really no finality. If well-documented history must in every age be rewritten, no less inevitable is the re-writing of that which is reached only by processes of inference. And the gospel problem is the hardest of all. Still more than in the case of the Pentateuch problem, many revisions will probably be needed before a generally satisfactory solution is reached. There is nothing for it but to trace and retrace, consider and reconsider, the inferrible historic process. Met as he is by alternate charges of reckless iconoclasm and "hasty" construction, the proper course for the holder of the myth-theory is to repeat with dispassionate vigilance both of his processes--to show first that the progressive effort to extract from the gospels a tenable biography has ended in complete critical collapse, revealing only a tissue of myth; and then to attempt to indicate how the pseudo-history came to be compiled: in other words, how the myth arose. Such has been my procedure in the preceding volume and in this. It may of course be argued that the previous negative criticism of the gospel record is indecisive; that the avowal of Loisy: "If the trial and condemnation of Jesus, as pretended Messiah, could be put in doubt, we should have no ground for affirming the existence of the Christ," does not commit other inquirers, or that the historicity of the trial story has not really been exploded; that the nullity of the alleged Evangel has not been established; or that the complete destruction of previous biographical theories claimed by Schweitzer for himself and Wrede has not been accomplished. The answer is that these issues are not re-opened in the following chapters. They were carefully handled in the previous volume, to which I have seen no attempt at a comprehensive and reasoned answer. [The latest attack I have seen comes from a former antagonist, who appears to lay his main complaint against the book on the ground that it "omits to notice the theory of the synoptic problem which appears in every modern text-book," that is, "the two-documents hypothesis." And there emerges this indictment:-- As the theory has a vital bearing on the relative values of different strata of tradition, Mr. Robertson cannot afford to ignore it. If we apply to himself the crude principle he applies to Paul and the evangelists, to wit, that if they don't mention a thing they don't know it, we must assume that Mr. Robertson is still ignorant of the very elements of the problem he is professing to solve. Since he has no clear or tenable view of the documents and their relations to one another, he obviously cannot answer the historical questions they raise. [3]... Presumably he omits to mention it because he does not see its significance. [4] Before coming to the main matter, it is necessary to elucidate the charge as to a "crude principle" applied to Paul and the evangelists. The "principle" really applied was this, that if "Paul" in all his writings, apart from two interpolated passages, shows no real knowledge whatever of the gospels, and no knowledge whatever either of the life or the teachings of Jesus as there recorded, we are compelled to infer either that these details were not in any form known to Paul, or that, if he knew them, he did not believe them. It is not a matter of his not knowing "a thing": that is the sophism of the critic; it is a matter of his not knowing anything on the subject. And so with the synoptics and the fourth gospel. When one side relates something vital to the record, of which the other side shows no knowledge whatever [5]--as, for instance, great miracles--we are bound to infer that the silent side, when it is the earlier record, either did not know or did not believe the story. Or, again, when John alleges that the disciples baptized freely and the synoptics make no mention of it, it is clear that we cannot suppose them, in the alleged circumstances, to have been ignorant of such a fact; while, if they are supposed to have known it and yet to have kept silence, their credit as historians is gravely shaken. The "principle," in fact, is that of critical common-sense; and the critic's version of it is a forensic perversion. On the next issue, it is perhaps well to explain to the lay reader that the "two-documents hypothesis" is simply what Schmiedel--with a very justifiable implication--named "the so-called theory of two sources," a mere aspect of "the borrowing hypothesis" which constitutes the main substance of the bulk of the documentary discussion of the gospels in the last century, and which is simply the most obvious way of attempting to explain the documentary phenomena. It dates from Papias. As the critic asseverates, it is the theory of the text-books in general. And for the main purposes of historic comprehension, it is neither here nor there. The theory of two sources cannot possibly cover all the data, even from the biographical point of view. The effect of Schmiedel's article--a model of critical honesty and general good sense which his successors might usefully strive to copy in those regards--is to show that the hypothesis is quite inadequate even as a documentary theory; and from the point of view of the rational student it is simply neutral to the vital question, What really did happen, in the main? He who has realized that the Entry, the Betrayal, the Last Supper, the Agony, the Trials, and the Crucifixion, are all as mythical as the Resurrection, is not at that point concerned with the dispute as to priority among the gospels, or any sections of them. No documentary hypothesis can possibly make the myth true. At the vital point, in fact, the two-documents hypothesis is not even ostensibly applicable: the synoptic narrative is one primary narrative, subjected to minor modifications. It is admitted by Harnack to have been absent from "Q," the Logoi "source" held to have been drawn upon by Matthew and Luke. And that one narrative, as I have argued, is not in origin a "gospel" narrative at all, but the simple transcript of a mystery-drama, with almost the minimum of necessary narrative insertion. If the exegete could bring himself to contemplate rationally my hypothesis, he might find his documentary labours lightened. [6] It is doubtless true that the determination of the earlier as against the later form of a minor narrative episode, or of a teaching, is often essential to the framing of a true notion as to its mode of entrance; and such determination I have attempted many times. But the notion that historicity is a matter of priority of documents is, as Schmiedel sees, the fallacy of fallacies. Prisoned in that presupposition, exegetes defending the record achieve inevitably the very failure they impute: they are "ignorant of the very elements of the problem they are professing to solve"--that is, the problem of what really happened. They cannot realize the conditions under which the gospels were compiled. They construct what they think a "clear or tenable" view of the documents by the process of evading the considerations which make it untenable or inadequate, and then demand that their documentary formula shall be met by one in pari materia. The answer to them is that their psychological as well as their historical assumptions are false. Things did not happen in that way. And two versions of a palpable myth do not make for its historicity. There are two or more versions of most myths. The indictment before us, in short, is an illustration of the mode of theological fence discussed above. You undertake to show that the most alert presentments of a given historical conception fail to stand critical tests, and you are met with the reply: "We are not concerned to discuss the presentments you deal with, which are not generally accepted: we demand that you discuss instead the documentary theory which in those presentments is treated as obsolete. If you do not do this, you show you are incompetent." When on the other hand the critical significance of an older theory is indicated, the reply is made that that theory is "obsolete." One theory is too new, another is too old, for discussion. All the while, the theory founded-on for the defence is really the oldest of all. It was in fact the obvious inadequacy of the familiar documentary hypothesis that dictated our discussion of more up-to-date theories, as it had elicited these. If our exegete's favourite hypothesis had had any power of satisfying independent students, we should not have had such treatises as those of the Rev. Dr. Wright and Dr. Flinders Petrie, or the searching analysis and commentary of M. Loisy, to say nothing of the vigorous Dr. Blass. In dealing with such writers, and particularly in following the "real" procedure of M. Loisy on the main issues of historical fact, I took what seemed to me the candid controversial course. To resort instead to a mere exposure of the obvious insufficiency of the "two-documents hypothesis" would be like arguing as if Genesis were the only alternative to the Darwinian theory. Dr. Wright's "oral hypothesis" is a vivid and interesting revival of what, as I pointed out, had long ago been the "predominant" view. [7] Our exegete nevertheless affirms that I regard it "as something new in England." To the lay reader I would again explain the situation thus handled. Theological discussion on the gospels has moved in cycles, by reason of the invariable presupposition as to historicity, which was a main factor in the partial failure of the mythical theory as introduced by Strauss. As I expressly stated, the oral hypothesis was before Strauss "well established." Then ensued the age-long discussion of documentary hypotheses. At the close of the nineteenth century we find Schmiedel saying: Lastly, scholars are also beginning to remember that the evangelists did not need to draw their material from books alone, but that from youth up they were acquainted with it from oral narration and could easily commit it to writing precisely in this form in either case--whether they had it before them in no written form, or whether they had it in different written form. In this matter, again, we are beginning to be on our guard against the error of supposing that in the synoptical problem we have to reckon merely with given quantities, or with such as can be easily ascertained. [8] If I had written that, I should doubtless be told that I regarded the oral hypothesis as "new." Dr. Schmiedel, it is to be hoped, may escape the aspersive method of my critic. In point of fact, a return to the oral hypothesis was inevitable in view of the insufficiency of the other. Unfortunately it has been made on the old and fatal presupposition of the historicity of the myth; but, as made by Dr. Wright, it seemed well worth critical consideration. My critic disparages that and other propaganda as "commanding no large measure of assent anywhere." My testimony, I fear, will not help Dr. Wright; but I will say that I found him an honest and extremely interesting writer, admirably free from theological malice, and above all exhibiting a thoroughly independent hold of his thesis. What amount of assent he has secured is an irrelevant issue. I can only say that I found him very readable. The scholarly and intellectual status of Dr. Flinders Petrie, again, is such as perhaps to make it unnecessary to say--as against similar disparagement in his case--that a thesis seriously and vigorously embraced by him as superseding the older documentary and oral hypotheses alike, seemed to me well entitled to consideration.] The examination of the recent positions of independent writers seeking to construct a documentary theory has, I think, sufficed to safeguard the honest lay student of the myth-theory against the kind of spurious rebuttal set up by those who, themselves innocent of all original research, pretend that the fundamental historicity of the gospels is established by a "consensus of scholarship." There is no consensus of scholarship. I observe that M. Loisy, to whom I devoted special study, is journalistically disparaged by the Very Rev. Dean Inge. That disparagement--which, I also observe, I have the undeserved honour to share--will not impose upon serious students, who will realize that Dean Inge, himself transparently unorthodox, has no resource in such matters but to disparage all who labour with any measure of rational purpose to put concrete conclusions where church dignitaries inevitably prefer to maintain rhetorical mystification. For the purposes of serious students, M. Loisy is an important investigator, Dean Inge a negligible essayist. It is true that one of the positions I discussed--that of the school of Weiss--is not "new." But in that case the reason for selection was not merely that it was one of the efforts to reach something less neutral than the "two-documents hypothesis," but that it is in substance the position of some of the most recent and most virulent English critics of the myth-theory. It is in fact the gist of the polemic of Dr. Conybeare. I have shown, accordingly, that the thesis of a primary biography is psychologically absurd in itself; and, further, that like all the other documentary hypotheses it has been left high and dry by the latest German exegetes, who, expressly assuming the historicity of a Jesus, and founding on the gospels for their case, reduce these to a minimum of tradition at which M. Loisy must stand aghast. It is in England, in short, that the biographical school, as represented by Dean Inge and Dr. Conybeare, is seen to be most entirely out of touch with the movement of rational criticism. It is in England, too, that we find the most uncritical reliance put upon the "impression of a personality" said to be set up by the gospels. This argument is still used without any attempt at psychological self-analysis, any effort to find out what an impression is worth. A generation or two ago, exactly the same position was taken up in regard to the fourth gospel: both the Arnolds, for instance, were confident that the vision of Jesus there given was peculiarly real. Critical study has since forced all save the sworn traditionalists and the mere compromisers to the conclusion that it cannot be real if there is any substantial truth in the presentment of the synoptics. Slowly it has been realized that the methods which produce a vivid impression of "personality" are methods open to fictive art, and differ only in detail from the methods of the Bhagavat Gîta or the methods of Homer. If a strong impression of a personality be a certificate of historicity, what of Zeus and Hêrê, Athênê and Achilles, Ulysses and Nestor? Most critics who handle the problem seem to work in vacuo, without regard to the phenomena and the machinery of fictive literature in general, even when they are moved to accept a hypothesis of fiction. The vision presented in the fourth gospel is prima facie more lifelike than that of the synoptics, because its main author is more of an artist than his predecessors. It has been justly affirmed by Professor W. B. Smith that The received notion that in the early Marcan narratives the Jesus is distinctly human, and that the process of deification is fulfilled in John, is precisely the reverse of the truth. In Mark there is really no man at all: the Jesus is God, or at least essentially divine, throughout. He wears only a transparent garment of flesh. Mark historizes only. Matthew also historizes and faintly humanizes. Luke more strongly humanizes; while John not only humanizes but begins to sentimentalize. [9] Contemporary German scholars, such as Wellhausen, working on the synoptics, begin uneasily to note the lack of reality and verisimilitude in the presentment there given, avowing a deficit of biographical quality where English amateurs still heedlessly affirm a veridical naïveté. Wellhausen, tacitly clinging to the biographical assumption, gives up section after section of Mark, where our amateurs primitively acclaim as genuine biographic detail such an item as "asleep on the cushion" (Mk. iv, 38). Following another will-o'-the-wisp, Wellhausen is moved to claim the episode of the widow's mite (Lk. xxi, 1-4) as having biographical flavour, as if the admitted inventor of other Lucan episodes could not have doctrinally framed this. There is no science in such tentatives. They do but tell of a search for a subjective basis of belief when criticism has dissolved the objective bases of the old assumption. When it is pretended, as by Dr. Conybeare, that the mythical theory rests on and grows solely out of the supernaturalist details in the gospel story, the case is simply falsified. This writer never seems to master his subject matter. Before Strauss, as by Strauss, the myth-theory was widely applied to non-supernatural matter; and to surmise a historical Jesus behind those details has been the first step in all modern inquiry. The assertion that the rejection of the historicity of Jesus "is not really the final conclusion of their [myth-theorists'] researches, but an initial unproved assumption" [10] is categorically false. Professor Smith's biographical statement negates it. [11] As I have repeatedly stated, I began without misgivings by assuming a historical Jesus, and sought historically to trace him, regarding the birth myth and the others as mere accretions. But the very first step in the strictly historical inquiry revealed difficulties which the biographical school and the traditionalists alike had simply never faced. The questions whether Jesus was "of Nazareth," "Nazarene" in that sense, or "the Nazarite"; and why, if he was either of these, he was never so named in the epistles, stood in the very front of the problem, wholly unregarded by those who profess to trace a historical Jesus by historical method. The problem of "the twelve" is to this day passed with equal heedlessness by critics professing to work on historico-critical lines; and the question of the authenticity of the teachings is no more scientifically met. It was because at every step the effort to find historical foundation failed utterly that after years of investigation I sought and found in a thorough application of the myth-theory the solution of the enigma. Invariably that gives light where the historical assumption yields darkness. It is thoroughly characteristic of the spirit in which some champions of the biographical view work that, in sequel to the falsification of the problem just noted, we have from them the plea that if we give up the historicity of Jesus, we must give up that of Solon and Pythagoras; and that "obviously Jesus has a far larger chance to have really existed than Solon." [12] Such a use of the conception of "chance" reveals the kind of dialectic we are dealing with. One recalls Newman's derision of the Paleyan position that the "chances" were in favour of there being a God. "If we deny all authenticity to Jesus's teaching," we are asked, "what of Solon's traditional lore?" Well, what of it? Is it to be authenticated by the threat that it must go if we deny that the Sermon on the Mount is a sermon at all? The fragments of Solon's verse purport to have been written by him: have we anything purporting to have been written by Jesus? The very fact that we have only fragments of Solon is in itself an argument in favour of their genuineness: to Jesus any evangelist could ascribe any sayings at will. [13] As usual, the critic falsifies the debate, affirming that "the stories of Plutarch about him [Solon] are, as Grote says, 'contradictory as well as apocryphal.'" What Grote really says [14] is that Plutarch's stories "as to the way in which Salamis was recovered are contradictory as well as apocryphal." He makes no such assertion as to the stories of Solon's life in general, though, like every critical historian, he recognizes that many things were ultimately ascribed to Solon which belong to later times. [15] But the genuine fragments of Solon's verse and laws are sound historical material. As Meyer claims, [16] the Archon list is as valid as the Roman Fasti. It is precisely because of the solid elements in the record that Solon stands as a historic figure, while Lycurgus is given up as a deity Evemerized. [17] On the principles of Dr. Conybeare, we must give up Solon because we give up Lycurgus, or accept Lykurgos if we accept Solon. Historical criticism does no such thing. It decides the cases on their merits by critical tests, and finds the fact of a Solonian legislation historically as certain as the Lycurgean is fabulous. The item that Solon's family claimed to be descended from Poseidon is no ground for doubting the historicity of Solon, because such claims were normal in early Greece. Is it pretended that claims to be the Son of God were normal in later Jewry? The device of saying that we must accept the historicity of Jesus if we accept that of Solon is merely a new dressing of the old claim that we must believe in the resurrection if we believe in the assassination of Cæsar. Both theses rest on spurious analogies; and both alike defeat themselves, the older by carrying the implication that the prodigies at Cæsar's death are as historical as the assassination; the newer by involving the consequence that Solon accredits not only Lycurgus but Herakles and Dionysos, Ulysses and Achilles. The argument from Pythagoras is a still more fatal device. Of him "it is no easy task to give an account that can claim to be regarded as history." [18] And "of the opinions of Pythagoras we know even less than of his life." [19] It is held to be certain that he taught the doctrine of transmigration and originated certain propositions in mathematics; but while the mathematical element has no analogue in the gospels, the residual view of Pythagoras as vending in religion only a "thoroughly primitive" set of taboos [20] would sanction, by analogy, the view that the real Jesus was the Talmudic Ben Pandira, who dates about 100 B.C., and was reputed a worker of wonders by sorcery. This is a sufficiently lame and impotent conclusion from a polemic in favour of the gospel Jesus, whom it leaves, in effect, a myth, as the myth-theory maintains. As for Apollonius of Tyana, one holds him historical [21] just because his myth-laden story is finally intelligible as history, which is precisely what the Jesus story is not. This said, The Historical Jesus may be left, as it is, open to critical refutation. The present volume is theoretically constructive, and does not unnecessarily return upon the other. It is open in its turn to refutative criticism. That description, it may be remarked, would not be accorded by me to a mere asseveration that there "must" be a historical basis for the gospels in a person answering broadly to the Gospel Jesus. Any one who confidently holds such a view need hardly trouble himself with the present thesis at all: and for me any one who affects to dispose of the issue by merely fulminating the "must" is simply begging the question. Those who, on the other hand, do but lean instinctively to such a belief may be respectfully invited to reconsider it in the light of all hierology. That there "must" be a historic process of causation behind every cult is a truism: it does not in the least follow that the historic basis must be the historicity of the God or Demigod round whose name the cult centres. Many Saviour names have been the centres of cults, in the ancient world as in the modern. There were extensive and long-lived worships of Herakles, Dionysos, Osiris, Attis, Adonis, in addition to the age-long cults of the "Supreme" Gods. Is it claimed that there "must" have been a historical Herakles, or Dionysos, or Adonis? If so, is it further contended that there must have been a historical Jehovah, a Jove, a Cybelê, a Juno, a Venus? If the Father-Gods and Mother-Gods could be evolved by protracted mythopoeia, why not the Son-Gods? It is perfectly true, as was urged by the late Sir Alfred Lyall, that in India and elsewhere distinguished men may to this day be deified; that ancestor-worship played a great part in God-making; and that tribal Gods are in many cases probably evolved from distinguished chiefs. But such cases really defeat the inference drawn from them. Such God-making can in no instance be shown ever to have set up what can reasonably be termed a world-religion. The world-religions are the product of a far more protracted and complex causation. They grow from far further-reaching roots. Above all, they have never grown up without the services either of a numerous priesthood or of Sacred Books, or of both. Is it then contended that a Sacred Book must represent the originative teaching of a real person and his disciples? It may or may not; but what does not at all follow is that the personality deified or extolled in the Sacred Book was real. Mohammed was a real person: he made no claim to deity: he acclaimed an established God. The names of Zoroaster and Buddha were probably not those of real persons: the first figures as a cult-building priest; the second as a Teacher, enshrined from the first in a luxuriant myth, whence his practical deification. In both cases the specific centre of the religion is the Book or Books; and it is beyond question that in both cases many hands wrought on these. To say that only a primary personality of abnormal greatness could have inspired the writing of the books is really equivalent to saying that there must have been a historical Jehovah to account for the Old Testament, and a historical Allah to account for the Koran. Let it be freely granted that the writers of Sacred Books were in many cases remarkable personalities. That is a totally different proposition from the one we are considering. The claim that the gospels could only have originated round the memory of an inspiring and love-creating personality is in effect an evasion of the multitudinous facts of hierology. The European who sees nothing in the fact that the mythic Krishna is loved by millions of Hindoos; that in ages of antiquity millions of worshippers were absorbed in the love of Dionysos, mutilated themselves for Attis, and wept for Adonis, is not really ready for a verdict on what "must" have been as regards the building up of any cult. Are the Psalms, once more, a testimony to the historicity of Jehovah, or is the hymn of Hippolytos to Artemis, in Euripides, a proof of anything but that men can love an imagination? The special claim for a historical Jesus arises out of the very fact that Jesus alone among the Saviour Gods of antiquity (Buddha being excluded from that category) is celebrated in a set of Sacred Books in which he figures as at once a Sacrificed God and a Teaching God. [22] But the worships of the Saviours Dionysos and Herakles and Adonis, without Sacred Books (apart from temple liturgies), were as confident as the worship of Jesus. Is the production of Sacred Books in itself any more of a testimony to a Saviour God's human actuality than the worship with which they are associated? Historically speaking, the emergence of Sacred Books as accompaniments of a popular cultus is a result of special culture conditions. In the case of Judaism these have never been scientifically traced, by reason of the presuppositions of the past. [23] But we can trace later cases. Early Christism founded primarily on the Sacred Books of Judaism; and it needed to produce books of its own if it was to survive as against the overshadowing parent cult. Save for these books, Christism would have disappeared as did Mithraism, of which the scanty hieratic literature remained occult, liturgical, unpopular, where Christism was committed to publicity by the Jewish lead. To make of Sacred Books produced under those special conditions a special argument for the historicity of their contents, or of their narrative groundwork, is to embrace the fallacy of the single instance. And when the contents utterly fail to sustain the tests of rational documentary criticism, to fall back on a "must" for certification of the actuality of the figure they deify is merely to renounce critical reason. The rational problem is to account historically for the projection as a whole, to explain the main features and as many minor details as may be, as we explain the "personality" and the myth of Herakles or Samson or Adonis, the doctrines and fictions of the Books of Ruth and Esther, the religions of Krishna and Mithra and Quetzalcoatl. We are now compendiously to make the attempt. M. Loisy has declared [24] that "One can explain to oneself Jesus: one cannot explain to oneself those who invented him." In the previous volume it has been contended that M. Loisy has decisively failed to "explain Jesus" as a possible person: in this we essay to explain "those who invented him." M. Loisy is an illustrious New-Testament scholar: he is not a mythologist or a comparative hierologist. It is very likely that he would find it difficult to explain to himself those who invented Tezcatlipoca; but it would hardly follow that Tezcatlipoca was not invented. In point of fact, a large portion of M. Loisy's own important critical performance consists precisely in explaining away as inventions a multitude of items in the gospel narrative. He can understand invention of many parts, and admits that unless removed they make an incongruous whole. There is really no more difficulty in explaining the other parts as similar inventions than in explaining these. Thus the alleged difficulty is illusory. The occupation of "explaining to oneself" imaginary beings has been the occupation of theologians through whole millenniums. There can still be found even a hierologist or two who believe in the historicity of Krishna; as the judicious Mosheim in the eighteenth century confidently believed in the historicity of Mercury and Mithra. Those--and they are many--who are now content to see myth in the figures of Mithra and Krishna, with or without the nimbus of Sacred Books, may on that score consent to consider the thesis of this volume. It will be no adequate answer to that to say, as will doubtless be said, that the outline of the evolution of the myth is unsatisfying. In the very nature of the case, the connections of the data must be speculative. It may well be that those here attempted--some of them modifications of previous theories--will have to be at various points reshaped; and I invite the reader to weigh carefully the views of Professors Drews and Smith where I diverge from them. The complete establishment of a historical construction will be a long and difficult task. But in its least satisfying aspect the myth-theory is a scientific substitution for what is wholly dissatisfying--the entirely unhistorical construction furnished by the gospels. That has been under revision for a hundred and fifty years, with an outlay of labour that is appalling to think of, in view of the utter futility of the search--or, let us say, the labour in proportion to the result, for toil even upon false clues has yielded some knowledge that avails for rectification. But the labour has meant a steadily dwindling confidence in a dwindling residuum of supposed fact; though every shortening of the line of defence has evoked furious outcry from the unthinking faithful. The first pious framers of "harmonies" of the gospels were indignantly told by the more stupid pious that there was no strife to harmonize: the Schmiedels and Loisys of to-day, striving their hardest to save something by rational methods from the rational advance, are execrated by those who believe more than they. The more instructed believers are as warm in their resentment of the latest and coolest negative criticism as were their fathers towards the contemptuous exposure of the contradictions of "inspiration." Anger, it would seem, always leaps to the help of shaken confidence. Let the believer perpend. It is not orthodoxy that is to-day fighting the case of the historicity of Jesus. Orthodoxy is committed to the miraculous, to Revelation, to the Incarnation, the Virgin Birth, the Resurrection, and, if it would be consistent, to the Ascension, which is on the same plane of belief. Upon such assumptions, there can be no critical defence worthy of the name. The defence is being conducted mainly by the avowed or non-avowed Neo-Unitarians of the various churches and countries; and these are simply standing either at the position taken up fifty years ago by Renan, whose "biography" of Jesus was received with a far more widespread and no less violent storm of censure than that now being turned upon the myth-theory; or at the more nearly negative position of Strauss, which was still more fiercely censured. Renan's position, or Strauss's, is now the position of the mass of "moderate" scholars and students. Those who have thus seen a denounced heresy become the standpoint of ordinary scholarly belief should be slow to conclude that a newer heresy will not in time find similar acceptance. CHAPTER II THE CENTRAL MYTH § 1. The Ground of Conflict For the purposes of this inquiry, all miracles, strictly so-called, are out of discussion. This does not mean that the myth-theory of Jesus is an outcome of atheistic philosophy. One of the most brilliant of modern books on Jesus is the work of an avowed atheist, [25] who accepted substantially the whole of the non-supernatural presentment of Jesus in the gospels, taking it to be a bad biography, and subjecting the doctrine to keen but sympathetic criticism. This writer, dismissing miracles as outside debate, had a conviction of the historicity of Jesus which was in no way affected by a knowledge of modern documentary criticism. On the other hand, Professor Arthur Drews, author of The Christ Myth, expressly claims to urge the myth-theory in the interest of theistic religion. Of course he too dismisses miracles as outside discussion. Those who are still concerned to discuss them, and to affirm such beliefs as those of the Virgin Birth and the Resurrection, should turn their attention to the well-known work of the late W. R. Cassels, Supernatural Religion, [26] in which the whole supernaturalist case, in its double aspect of "revelation" and miracles, is examined with an abundance of learning, patience, and candour. Disparaged in its day by professional orthodox scholars, that treatise has so completely done its special work in the general criticism of supernaturalist faith that, however common orthodoxy may still be, the matter is now little debated among instructed men. Those who still hold the orthodox position, therefore, are not here addressed. Our inquiry invites the attention only of those who, abandoning the supernaturalist basis of the Christian creed, seek to retain (it may be as the ground for a transformed "Christianity") (1) the human personality which they believe to have underlain the admitted myths of the record, and (2) the teachings--or some of them--ascribed to the God-Man of the Gospels. The problem is one of historical criticism, and does not turn upon theism or atheism. The historicity of Jesus is maintained not only by "Christians" of various degrees of heterodoxy but by some professed rationalists; by critics eminent for judicial temper, as by Professor Schmiedel of Zürich; and on the other hand by Dr. F. C. Conybeare. These critics agree in regarding Jesus as a natural man, naturally born, and it is to them that we must reply. When an orthodox Christian like the Rev. Dr. T. J. Thorburn, holding by the Annunciation and the Virgin Birth, sets himself to rebut the myth-theory [27] by scouting myth analogies, it would be idle to argue with him. A writer who can believe he has evidence for a story of human parthenogenesis has no conception of evidence in common with us. It is accordingly needless to point out that he constantly and absurdly misunderstands the myth argument; [28] that he discusses Evemerism without knowing what it means; [29] and that he merely juggles with such cruces as the stories of the Transfiguration and the Ascension. From one at his standpoint we can expect nothing else; and to those whom his exposition satisfies no myth-theory can appeal. When he resorts to the device of denying "spiritual insight" to those who accept scientific tests, he merely exemplifies the normal procedure of orthodox incompetence. The religious reasoner who flouts reason usually certificates and betrays himself in that inexpensive fashion. Our argument is addressed to those who profess to apply to Biblical matters the principles of historical criticism. The biographical school, as one may inoffensively term the variously minded champions of the historicity of the record, abandon the Virgin Birth and the Resurrection as impossibilities. That is to say, they accept the myth-theory as regards those two cardinal items of the Christian legend. They also in general recognize that the fourth gospel, in so far as it differs vitally from the synoptics, is in the main a process of myth-making. But, clinging to the alleged substratum, most members of the school adhere to the fundamental historicity of the Crucifixion. Here they stand with Strauss, who found in the execution of Jesus by Pontius Pilate a solid historical fact. Strauss is generally explicit as to his reasons for accepting and rejecting; and while he resolves into myth at least nine-tenths of the gospel narratives, finding them mere inventions to "fulfil" supposed Old Testament predictions, he finds the testimony of Tacitus unquestionable as to the execution. [30] Now, the Annals of Tacitus is itself a questioned document; but even if we take it as unquestionable it is admittedly only a late statement of a narrative already made current by the Christists, the Annals being commonly dated about 120 C.E. Either Tacitus was founding on a Roman record of the Crucifixion or he was merely saying what Christists said as to the origin of their sect. If the latter, he supplies no historical basis. On the other hand, the unlikelihood of there being a Roman record of executions in Palestine ninety years before is so great that no Christian advocate now appears to affirm it. Tacitus in fact gives no sign of consulting official records, [31] his only traceable sources being previous historians, notably Suetonius. Thus Strauss's express ground for accepting the execution of a "Christ" by Pontius Pilate is really illusory; and when we further find him pronouncing that the Barabbas episode must be held fundamentally historical because it is "so firmly rooted in the early Christian tradition," [32] we are again compelled to reject his test. As we shall see, the Barabbas episode is unintelligible as history, but highly intelligible as myth. At the very outset, then, unverified assumptions are seen to be made by the biographical school as to what may confidently be taken as historical, even when, as in the case of Strauss, they affirm an abundance of myth. Where Strauss was rash, later rationalistic writers have been more so. My old friend, the English translator of Jules Soury's early work on Jesus, took for granted that behind legendary heroes in general there is always a nucleus of fact; but Soury, after postulating a large part of the gospel story as veridical, gave up a number of his own items. [33] As soon as he began to apply criticism, they were seen to be arbitrary assumptions. Equally arbitrary is the assumption of "some basis," made upon no scientific principle. The biographical school in general adhere at least to the trial and condemnation before Pilate, though many abandon as fiction the trial before the Sanhedrim, which indeed was abandoned as long ago as the third gospel, in favour of an equally fictitious trial before Herod. As is seen by M. Loisy, the trial before Pilate is for the historical critic the keystone of the tragedy story. If that goes, there remains only a highly composite body of teaching, with no identifiable historical personality to which to attach it. But even as regards the trials there is wide divergence among the biographical school. For instance, Mr. Charles Stanley Lester, an ex-clergyman of Milwaukee, in his interesting work The Historic Jesus, [34] entirely rejects the Sanhedrim trial, and likewise the gospel account of the Pilate trial, but finds "probable history" in the view that the priests privately persuaded Pilate to condemn Jesus on their accusation without any trial. [35] Again, the anonymous author of The Four Gospels as Historical Records, [36] an eminently keen, searching, and candid critic, rejects alike the Judas story, the trial before the Sanhedrim, and the trial before Pilate, [37] as he does most of the other items of the gospel history, yet throughout seems to take for granted the historicity of the "Great Teacher," the "Master," never even raising that issue save in protesting that he has absolutely nothing to say against him. [38] So completely does he destroy the whole narrative, indeed, that he can hardly be said to maintain the thesis of historicity, but he never calls it in question: he merely destroys the biography. Mr. Lester, on the other hand, confidently rejects a hundred details as myth, claiming that he presents the gospels "relieved of the drapery of mythology and set free from all dogmatic fictions"; [39] and yet no less confidently affirms a hundred "undoubted" things, in a manner that almost outgoes M. Loisy. If, faced by such procedures, the critical reader asks upon what grounds the historical personality is accepted, he gets from the able anonymous writer no answer, and from Mr. Lester, in effect, only the answer that the teachings which appeal to him in the gospels are self-certified as coming from the "Jesus" in whom he believes, while the others are dismissed by him as inconsistent with his conception. As a rule, the negative criticism is soundly reasoned; the constructive is purely arbitrary. Yet Mr. Lester is an amiable and--apart from his quaint animosity towards "the Semitic mind" [40]--a temperate critic, warmly concerned for historic truth and loyally opposed to all kinds of priestcraft, ancient and modern. What we must ask from such critics is that they should bring to bear on their biographical assumption the same critical method that they bring to bear on the multitude of details which strike them as obviously unhistorical. Rejecting miracles and self-contradictory narrative, they affirm a miraculous and self-contradictory Person. That conception too must be analysed. The Jesus of the Gospels is at once a Messiah (with no definite mission as such), a Saviour God with whom the indefinite Messiah coalesces, and a Teaching God who coalesces with both. The biographical school, in the mass, posit a human Teacher, round whose teaching a Messianic conception combined with a doctrine of salvation by blood sacrifice has nucleated. If in this tissue there cannot be inserted the historical detail of the trial before Pilate, there is nothing left but the quasi-mythical detail of the crucifixion as an ostensible historical basis for the Messianic and other teaching, so much of which is alien to the early cult, so much of which is critically to be assigned to previous and contemporary Jewish sources, and so much to later Jesuist editors and compilers. Those laymen who are content to pick out of the gospels certain teachings, such as the Sermon on the Mount, and call these "Christianity," have not realized how completely documentary analysis has disintegrated the teachings into pre-Jesuine Jewish and post-Jesuine Gentile matter. The latest professional analysis, as we have seen, leaves no Jesuine "Teaching" save an eschatology, a doctrine of "last things," coming from a visionary Messiah with no political or social message. [41] The bulk of the biographical school, on the other hand, cling diversely to "something" in the Teaching which shall be somehow commensurate with the "impression" made by the life and death of the Teacher, which, from Renan onwards, they regard as the real genesis of the myth of the Resurrection and the consequent cult. Having shown, then, the cogent critical reasons for dismissing the entire record of the triple episode of the Supper, the Agony, and the Trials, as unhistorical, [42] it concerns us to show (1) that the whole is intelligible only as myth, and (2) how the myth probably arose. The sequence culminates in the Crucifixion, which, with the Sacrament, is for the rational hierologist as for the orthodox theologian the centre of Christianity. Equally the biographical school are committed to maintaining the historicity of the event, without which they cannot explain the rise of the cult. If then the myth-theory is to stand, it must show that the central narrative belongs to the realm of myth. § 2. The Sacrificial Rite In the Christian record, the Crucifixion is essentially a sacrifice. "The essence of the Sacrament is not merely partaking of a common cup or a common meal, but feasting upon a sacrifice ... and this was found everywhere among Jews and Gentiles." [43] Thus the term "Eucharist," which means "thanksgiving" or "thank-offering," applied in the Teaching of the Twelve Apostles to the kind of sacrament there indicated, and thence taken by Justin and other Fathers, is clearly a misnomer for the thing specified in the gospels. Of the gospel sacrifice, the sacrament is the liturgical and symbolic application. [44] Or, otherwise, the crucifixion is the fulfilment of the theory of the sacrament. On the view of the historicity of the former, or of both, it would be necessary to show why the procedure set forth in the gospels so closely simulated a human sacrifice; and this is incidentally attempted in passing by M. Loisy. The scene of derision by the soldiers, he says, "was perhaps connected with some pagan festival usage." [45] But this at once admits the entrance of the myth-theory, which affirms that an immemorial "festival" usage is indicated. If Jesus was executed to please the Jewish multitude, as is the view even of the most destructive of the later German exegetes [46]--why should the execution take a pagan form? M. Loisy, who had previously accepted as history the narrative of the Entry into Jerusalem, with the public acclamation of Jesus as "the Son of David," is unprepared to believe with the German critic that within a week the multitude cried "Crucify him!"; and he therefore wholly eliminates that item from his biographical sketch. He implies, however, that the doom of Jesus was passed by Pilate to please the priests, which is equally fatal to the thesis of a pagan festival usage. He accepts, further, the scene of the Mocking, with no ostensible critical reason, but presumably in order to establish a history which would explain the subsequent growth of the cult. In this process the salient episode of Barabbas is dismissed by him as unhistorical. [47] Thus the most distinguished critic of the biographical school has no account to give of a second salient item in the record which, being entirely non-supernatural, must be held to have been inserted for some strong reason. It in fact closely involves the whole myth-theory. Barabbas was in all probability a regular figure in Semitic popular religion; and the name connects documentarily with that of Jesus. The reading "Jesus Barabbas," in Mt. xxvii, 16, as we have noted, [48] was long the accepted one in the ancient Church; and its entrance and its disappearance are alike significant. It is obviously probable that such a name as "Jesus the Son of the Father" (= Bar-Abbas [49]), applied to a murderer, would give an amount of offence to early Christian readers which would naturally lead in time to its elimination from the current text. [50] But on that view there is no explanation of its entrance. Such a stumbling-block could not have been set up without a compulsive reason. The anthropological and hierological data go to show that an annual sacrifice of a "Son of the Father" was a long-standing feature in the Semitic world. A story in Philo Judæus about a mummery in Alexandria in ridicule of the Jewish King Agrippa, the grandson of Herod, points pretty clearly to a local Jewish survival from that usage. A lunatic named Karabas is said to have been paraded as a mock-king, with mock-crown, sceptre and robe. [51] In all likelihood the K is a mistranscription for B. In any case, "the custom of sacrificing the son for the father was common, if not universal, among Semitic peoples," [52] as among others; and the Passover [53] was originally a sacrifice of firstlings, human and animal, [54] the former being probably most prevalent in times of disaster. "Devotion" was the principle: surrogate sacrifices would normally be substituted. Sacrifice of a king's son, in particular, was held to be of overwhelming efficacy by early Hebrews and other Semites, as among other races in the savage and barbaric stages. [55] There is nothing peculiar to the Semites either in the general or in the particular usage, both being once nearly universal; but it is with the Semites that we are here specially concerned. The story of Abraham and Isaac, to say nothing of that of Jephthah's daughter, is a finger-post in the evolution of religion, being inferribly a humane myth to promote the substitution of animal for human sacrifice. And the Phoenician myth of "Ieoud," the "only-begotten" son of King Kronos, "whom the Phoenicians call Israel," sacrificed by his father at a time of national danger, after being dressed in the trappings of royalty, [56] points towards the historic roots of Christianity. Again and again we meet the conception of the "only-begotten" "Son of the Father"--Father Abraham, Father Kronos, Father Israel, the Father-King--as a special sacrifice in Hebrew and other Semitic history. Kronos is a Semitic God; and in connection with the Roman Saturnalia we have the record of a Greek oracle commanding to "send a man to the Father"--that is, to Kronos. [57] What is certain is that sacrifices of kings, which were at one stage of social evolution normal, [58] inevitably tended to take other tribal or communal forms; and a multitude of rites preserved plain marks of the regal origin. Kings would inevitably pass off their original tragic burden; the community, bent on the safeguard of sacrifice, shifted it in turn. [59] Sacrifice of some kind, it was felt, there must be, to avert divine wrath: [60] that conviction lies at the base of the Christian as of the Jewish religion: it is fundamental to all primitive religion; and it is happily beyond our power to realize save symbolically the immeasurable human slaughter that the religious conviction has involved. Primarily, voluntary victims were desired; and in Roman and Japanese history there are special or general records of their being forthcoming, annually or in times of emergency. [61] Even in the case of animal sacrifice, the Romans had a trick of putting barley in the victim's ear to make him bow his head as if in submission. [62] But as regards human sacrifices, which were felt to be specially efficacious, the progression was inevitable from willing to compelled victims; and out of the multitude of the forms of human sacrifice, for which war captives and slaves at some stages supplied a large proportion of the victims, we single that of the evolution from the voluntary scape-goat or the sacrificed king or messenger, through the victim "bought with a price," to the released criminal or other desperate or resigned person bribed with a period of licence and abundance to die for the community at the end of it. In many if not in most of these cases, deification of the victim was involved in the theory, the victim being customarily identified with the God. [63] It was so in certain special sacrifices in pre-Christian Mexico. [64] It was so in the human sacrifices of the Khonds of Orissa, which subsisted till about the middle of last century. [65] In the latter instance, of which we have precise record, the annual victims were taken from families devoted by purchase to the function, or were bought as children and brought up for the purpose. They were "bought with a price." When definitely allotted, the males were permitted absolute sexual liberty, being regarded as already virtually deified. The victim was finally slain "for the sins of the world," and was liturgically declared a God in the process. Such rites gradually dwindled in progressive communities from ritual murders into ritual mysteries or masquerades; even as human sacrifices in general, in most parts of the world, dwindled from bodies to parts of bodies, fingers, hair, foreskins; from human to animal victims; [66] from larger to smaller animals; from these to fowls; from real animals to baked or clay models, fruits, grains, sheafs of rushes, figures, paper or other symbols. It seems usually to have been humane kings or chiefs who imposed the improvement on priesthoods. And as with the victim, so with the sacramental meal which accompanied so many sacrifices. Cannibal sacraments were once, probably, universal: they have survived down till recent times in certain regions; but with advance in civilization they early and inevitably tend to become merely symbolic. In Mexico at the advent of Cortes, both the cannibal and the symbolic forms subsisted--the former under conventional limitations; the latter in the practice of eating a baked image which had been raised on a cross and there pierced, for sanctification. [67] This "Eating of the God" was very definitely a sacrament; but so were the cannibalistic sacraments which preceded it. Surveying the general evolution, we reach the inference that somewhere in Asia Minor there subsisted before "our era" a cult or cults in which a "Son of the Father" was annually sacrificed under one or other of the categories of human sacrifice--Scapegoat, representative Firstling, Vegetation God, or Messenger; possibly in some cases under all four aspects in one. The usage may or may not have subsisted in post-exilic Jerusalem: quite possibly it did, for not only do the Sacred Books avow constant popular and legal resort to "heathen" practices of human sacrifice, [68] but Jewish religious lore preserves in a variety of forms clear evidence of institutions of human sacrifice which are not recognized in the Sacred Books. [69] In any case, in connection with the particular cult or rite in question there subsisted also a Eucharist or Sacrament or Holy Supper, analogous to the sacraments of the cults of Mithra, Dionysos, Attis, and many other Gods. [70] At a remote period it had been strictly cannibalistic: in course of time, it became symbolical. In other words, originally the sacrificed victim was sacramentally eaten; in course of time the thing eaten was something else, with at most a ritual formula of "body and blood." At a certain stage, whether by regal or other compulsion or by choice of the devotees, the annual rite of sacrifice became a mere ritual or Mystery Drama--as in other cases it became a public masquerade. The former evolution underlay the religions of Dionysos, Osiris, Adonis, and Attis: the latter may or may not have gone on alongside of the former. What does emerge from the gospel narrative concerning Barabbas and Jesus is, not that such an episode happened: here the myth-theory is at one with M. Loisy, who in effect pronounces the narrative to be myth: but that in the first age of Christianity the name "Jesus Barabbas" was well known, and stood for something well known. It was certainly known to the Jews, for we have Talmudical mention, dating from a period just after the fall of the Temple, that there was a Jewish ritual "Week of the Son, or, as some call it, Jesus the Son," in connection with the circumcision and redemption of the first-born child. [71] From the inference of the currency of the name there is no escape: attached to a robber and murderer it could never have got into the gospels otherwise. And the myth-theory can supply the explanation which neither the orthodox nor the biographical theory can yield. We have outside evidence that a sacrifice of a "Son of the Father" was customary in parts of the Semitic world. What the gospel story proves is that it was known to have been a practice, either at Jerusalem or elsewhere, to release a prisoner to the multitude in connection with a popular festival, which might or might not have been the Passover. The release may have been for the purpose either of a religious masquerade or of a sacrifice. Either way, the religious rite involved was a rite of "Jesus Barabbas"--Jesus the Son of the Father--and it involved either a real or a mock sacrifice, in which the "Son" figured as a mock king, with robe and crown. The more the problem is considered, then, the more clear becomes the solution. As soon as the Jesuist cult reached the stage of propaganda in which it described its Son-God as having died, in circumstances of ignominy, as an atoning sacrifice, it would be met by the memory of the actual Barabbas rite. Given that the Barabbas victim was ritually scourged and "crucified" (a term which has yet to be investigated), it follows that wherever the early propaganda [72] went in areas in which the memory of the rite subsisted, the Christists would be told that their Jesus the Son was simply the Jesus Barabbas of that popular rite; and the only possible--or at least the best--way to override the impeachment was to insert a narrative which reduced the regular ritual Jesus Barabbas to a single person, a criminal whom the wicked Jewish multitude had chosen to save instead of the sinless Jesus of the cult. In the circumstances given it was an absolutely necessary invention; and no other circumstances could conceivably have made it necessary. The story, by the unwilling admission of M. Loisy, who conserves whatever he thinks he critically can of the record, is a myth; and it is a myth which on the biographical theory cannot be explained. The myth-theory has explained it. As for the disappearance of the "Jesus" from the name of Barabbas in the records, it hardly needs explanation. When the memory of the old annual rite died away from general knowledge, the elision of the "Jesus" would be desirable alike for the learned who still knew and the unlearned who did not. [73] § 3. Contingent Elements It is needless for the defender of the biographical theory to interject a protest that the Barabbas story is only one item in the case. The other items will all be dealt with in turn: that has been put in the front because of its crucial significance. Incidentally it may be further noted that the myth-theory explains the plainly unhistorical item of "the thirty pieces of silver," confusedly explained from "the prophet Jeremy" as "the price of him that was priced, whom [certain] of the children of Israel did price" (Mt. xxvii, 9). The reference is really to Zechariah (xi, 12, 13). The story of the Betrayal is fiction on the very face of the narrative, Judas being employed to point out a personage of declared notoriety, about whose movements there had been no secrecy. [74] Judas is demonstrably a somewhat late figure in the gospel legend, coming from the later Mystery Drama, not from the rite on which it was built. But, whatever may be the solution of the cryptogram about the potter's field and the thirty pieces of silver in Zechariah, or the historic fact about Aceldama, one thing is clear: "the price of him that was priced," in Matthew, tells of the usage of paying a price for sacrificial victims. It does not follow that a price was regularly paid in the case of the Jesus Barabbas rite, though the record actually insists on the item by way of the Judas story: what is clear is that a memory of bought victims subsisted after the fall of Jerusalem. It is not unlikely that "Aceldama" was a field where sacrificial victims were either slain or buried, or both. A passage in the Kalika Purana suggests the procedure, and the probable significance of Golgotha, the "place of skulls." In the Hindu rite, the human victim was immolated "at a cemetery or holy place," upon which the sacrificer was not to look; and the head was presented in "the place of skulls, sacred to Bhoiruvu" (God of Fear). This could be in a special temple, or in a part of the cemetery, "or on a mountain." [75] At this point a warning must be given against the confusion set up by the habitual assumption that "something of the kind" occurred under Pontius Pilate. It is only on the biographical theory that that date is valid. Pontius Pilate is simply a figure in the later Mystery Drama, originally chosen, probably, because of his notoriety as a shedder of Jewish blood. [76] We are not bound to prove that at his date the usage of ritual human sacrifice, real or pretended, survived at Jerusalem, though it may have done, as it survived at Rhodes in the time of Porphyry in the form, perhaps, of a Semitic mystery drama. [77] It is the assumption of the historicity of the Crucifixion that partly disarms the theorem of Sir J. G. Frazer as to a coincidence of Jewish sacrificial rites. [78] Noting that the details of the Crucifixion closely conform to those of a human sacrifice sometimes practised in the Christian era in connection with the Roman Saturnalia, and also to those of a real or mock rite connected with the Babylonian feast of the Sacæa, he resorts to the alternative hypotheses (a) that the analogous Jewish feast of Purim, imported from Babylon after the Return, and also involving either a real or a mock crucifixion, chanced to coincide with the actual crucifixion of the gospel Jesus; or that (b) Christian tradition "shifted the date of the crucifixion by a month or so" to connect it with the Passover. As the official Purim rite, though cognate with that of the Passover, cannot well have been allowed to coincide with it, the theory of coincidence is barred; and the theorist is assured by an expert colleague that "all that we hear of the Passion is only explicable by the Passover festival," and that "without the background of the festival all that we know of the Crucifixion and of what led up to it is totally unintelligible." [79] When, however, the unhistorical character of the gospel narrative is realized, such difficulties disappear. The intention was certainly to connect the Crucifixion with the Passover (in which the paschal lamb--symbolizing Isaac--was customarily dressed in the form of a cross [80]); and in the fourth gospel Jesus becomes an actual Passover sacrifice. But the narrative is simply a reduction to historic form of the procedure of a customary ritual sacrifice, habitual usages of human sacrifice being represented as expedients of a single Roman execution. With the exact seasonal date of the Jesus Barabbas rite which here motived the gospel legend, the myth-theory is not primarily concerned, though it has secondary interest. It was probably a Spring Festival, and at the same time a New Year Festival, the period of the vernal equinox having been both in east and west the time of the New Year before that was placed after the winter solstice. It is thus highly likely that there were analogous sacrificial festivals at Yule and at Easter, one celebrating the new-birth of the sun and the other the revival of vegetation. The Sacæa festival may or may not have been identical with that known from the monuments to have been called the Zakmuk [81] (New Year): either way, the features may have been the same. There was in Judea, further, a hieratic year as well as a civil, a Lesser Passover as well as the greater. [82] The myth-theory does not depend on an agreed date, though the myth fixes on an astronomical date, itself constantly varying in the calendar. What leaps to the eyes is that the gospel legend preserves two separated features of the festival of a Sacrificed Mock-King, which as incidents in the life of the Teacher are wholly incompatible, and which the biographical theory cannot reasonably explain--the acclaimed and welcomed Entry into Jerusalem and within a week the demand of the city multitude for the crucifixion. The Entry is an elaboration of several myth elements, but it contains the item of the acclaimed ride of the quasi-king, mounted on an ass (or two asses). If the biographical school would but consider historical probabilities, they would realize that the story as told cannot be historical, with or without the strange antithesis of the multitude's speedy demand for the prophet's death. Such a triumphal entry, for such a person as the gospel Jesus, could not spontaneously have taken place: it must have been planned; and, if arranged with such an effect as the record describes, it would have given Pilate very sufficient ground for intervention without waiting for a complaint from the priests. Taken as history, it is wholly irreconcilable with the "Crucify him" ascribed to a multitude whose support of Jesus had been affirmed the day before; and accordingly M. Loisy, accepting the Entry, rejects the latter episode. Strauss, hesitating to go, "as has latterly often been done," the length of rejecting the Entry on the ass as wholly mythical, finds it very much so; [83] and Brandt incidentally dismisses it as "under the strongest suspicion of being framed upon Old Testament motives from beginning to end." [84] Thus the biographical school itself proffers a myth-theory, without indicating an explanatory motive for the positing of a contradiction. But when we realize that an acclamation of a quasi-king riding on an ass was actually part of the ritual in a sacrificial rite in which he was to be crucified, the two clashing elements in the legend are at once explained in the full myth-theory. Their separate handling and development was, just as intelligibly, part of the process of gospel-making, the creation of an ideal Jesus. But seeing that in the Sacæa festival the mock-king had a five days' reign between his start and his death, [85] the original ritual gave the interval which in the gospel story is filled with the acts of the Teaching God. Five days is the accepted traditional interval from Palm Sunday to Crucifixion Day. [Even for the item of the two asses in Matthew there is a myth-explanation. Many writers of the biographical school, who compensate themselves for their difficulties by ascribing a peculiarly crass stupidity to the apostles and evangelists at every opportunity, decide that the narrator or interpolator posited the two asses, an ass and its colt, because he found in Zechariah a Messianic prediction so phrased, [86] and did not understand that the Hebraic idiom simply meant "an ass." Yet one member of the school, Dr. Conybeare, fiercely denounces myth-theorists for claiming to understand Jewish symbolism better than the Jews did. Either principle serves the turn. When Tertullian says that Jesus is the Divine Fish because fishes were parthenogenetically born, and Jesus was born again in the waters of the Jordan, Dr. Conybeare is sure of the wisdom of Tertullian. This thesis, first found in Tertullian, is to decide the question, to the exclusion of any reflection on the fact that the Sun at Easter had before the Christian era passed from the sign Aries to the sign Pisces in the zodiac. But when Matthew reads Zechariah's two asses as meaning two asses, Matthew is to be dismissed as a Jew who did not understand the commonest Hebrew idiom. The simple fact that the Septuagint does not give the duplication, putting only "a young colt," will serve to indicate to any careful reader that the evangelist or interpolator was following the Hebrew, and therefore is to be presumed to have known something of Hebrew idiom. And the just critical inference is that both passages had regard to the zodiacal figure of the Two Asses for the sign Cancer, from which we have the myth of Bacchus riding on two asses. [87] Further, it is probable that the similar passage in the Song of Jacob [88] has also a zodiacal basis. These details, which Dr. Conybeare absolutely withholds from his readers, indicate the mythological induction put by the present writer. In an unconstruable sentence, Dr. Conybeare appears to argue [89] that to secure any consideration for such a thesis we must "prove that the earliest Christians, who were Jews, must have been familiar with the rare legend of Bacchus crossing a marsh on two asses," and "with the rare representation of the zodiacal sign Cancer as an ass and its foal." How the critic knows that the legend was rare at the beginning of the Christian era he does not reveal; any more than he gives his justification for calling the Asses sign rare in the face of the statement of Lactantius that the Greeks call the sign of Cancer "(the) Asses." This reference was given by me, as also the item that the sign of the Ass and Foal is Babylonian. It was thus very likely to be known in the Semitic world. Yet Dr. Conybeare obliviously informs us that "it is next to impossible" that it should be known to "the earliest Christians," when all the while he is arguing that Matthew was not the gospel of "the earliest Christians." It is in perfect keeping with this chaotic procedure that he first oracularly refers me to Hyginus, whose version of the myth of Bacchus and the asses I had actually cited and quoted; and then, discovering that I had done so, yet leaving his written exhortation unaltered, he announces that "by Mr. Robertson's own admission, Bacchus never rode on two asses at all." It is difficult to be sure whether Dr. Conybeare does or does not believe in the historicity of Bacchus, as he does in that of Jesus; but seeing that Lactantius, as cited by me, expressly declares that the two asses (= Cancer) carried Bacchus over the marsh, and that Dr. Conybeare had already recognized that such a myth existed, his absurd conclusion can be set down only to his habitual incoherence. I have dealt in detail with his futile criticism at this point by way of putting the reader on his guard against the method of bluster. Comparative mythology is a difficult and thorny field, but it has to be explored; and Dr. Conybeare, whose study of the subject seems to have begun in the year of the issue of his book, [90] does not even discern the nature of its problems. He avowedly supposes that totems are Gods; and he argues that the Jewish and Hellenistic world in the age of Augustus was at the mythopoeic stage of the Australian aborigines of to-day. Of the phenomena of iconographic myth he is evidently quite ignorant; and his dithyramb on the sun myth tells of nothing but obsolete debate on the question. And it is in this connection that he informs his antagonists, in his now celebrated academic manner, that they are "a back number." It has only to be added that as regards the documentary problem, in this connection, Dr. Conybeare is equally distracted. It is far from certain that at this point Mark's "colt" is not a "rectification" of an original which Matthew accepted. The assumption--negatived by themselves--that Mark and Matthew as we have them are both primary forms, Matthew always following and elaborating Mark, is one of the loose hypotheses which such critics when it suits them take for certainties. But the question of priority of form does not affect the fundamental issue. One of the suggestions put by me which Dr. Conybeare has carefully withheld from his readers--if, indeed, he ever really sees what is before him--is that the item of the single ass or colt is probably a myth with another basis. "An ass tied" appears to have been an Egyptian symbol pointing to a solar date or a zodiacal or other myth, [91] and this symbol, which is found in the Song of Jacob, is the form put upon the Mark story by Justin Martyr. That the other symbol had a long Christian vogue is indicated first by the fact that there actually exists a Gnostic gem showing an ass suckling its foal, with the figure of the crab (Cancer) above, and the inscription D.N. IHV. XPS., DEI FILIUS = Dominus Noster Jesu (?) Christus, Son of God; [92] and, secondly, by the mention of the ass and foal in the third Sermon of St. Proclus (5th c.). [93] These details also Dr. Conybeare withholds from his readers, for the purposes of his polemic. That we are dealing with a conflict of symbolisms will probably be the inference of those who will face the facts. But Dr. Conybeare, who is here in good company, is quite satisfied that behind the Mark story of Jesus riding in a noisy procession on an unbroken colt we have unquestionable history. There must be no nonsense about two asses; but for him the story of the unbroken colt raises no difficulty. He further simplifies the problem by summarizing Mark as telling that "an insignificant triumphal demonstration is organized for him [Jesus] as he enters the sacred city on an ass"; [94] and by explaining that "there was no other way of entering Jerusalem unless you went on foot." [95] The "insignificant" is held to be sufficient to dispose of the problem of the Roman Governor's entire indifference to a Messianic movement. Thus functions the biographic method, in the hands of our academician. All the while, the item of the foal is, on his own interpretation, a specified fulfilment of a prophecy, only in this case the prophecy is in his opinion rightly understood, whereas in the two-ass story it was misunderstood. By his own method, the critic is committed to the position that the phrase "whereon no man ever yet sat" is myth. [96] For serious critics in general, this is sufficient to put in doubt the whole story. For our critic, a story of a triumphal procession, with an unbroken colt, is simply resolved into one of an "insignificant procession," with an ordinary donkey. Thus, under the pretence of extracting history from a given document, the document is simply manipulated at will to suit a presupposition. On this plan, the twelve labours of Herakles are simply history exaggerated, and any one can make any Life of Herakles out of it at his pleasure. We must not say that Una rode on a lion, but we may infer that she rode on a small yellow pony. It is the method of the early German deistic rationalists, according to which the story of Jesus walking on the water is saved by the explanation that he was walking on the shore.] Part of the demonstration of the myth-theory, again, lies in the fact that the first act of Jesus after his entry is to "cast out all them that sold and bought in the temple, and overthrow the tables of the money-changers, and the seats of them that sold the doves." That this should have been accomplished without resistance seemed to Origen so astonishing that he pronounced it among the greatest miracles of Jesus, [97] adding the skeptical comment--"if it really happened." The myth-theory may here claim the support of Origen. Strauss could find no ground for rejecting the story as myth upon his method of finding myth-motives only in the Old Testament. If he had lived in our day he would probably have agreed that the episode is singled out of the kinds of exploit which were permitted to the victim in the Sacæa and the Saturnalia and such primitive sacrificial festivals in general, and turned to a doctrinal account. Such liberties as are described, all falling short of sacrilege, are among those which could normally take place. It is by way of anti-Judaism that the episode is utilized in the synoptics. In the fourth gospel, where so many matters are turned to new account, and so much new doctrine introduced, the purification is put with symbolic purpose at the outset of the Messiah's career, in a visit to Jerusalem of which the synoptics know nothing; and in this myth Jesus makes "a scourge of small cords" to effect his purpose. That later item was probably suggested by the effigy of the Egyptian Saviour God Osiris, who bears a scourge as the God of retribution. In the synoptics there is no symbol: the story is simply employed as part of the superadded didactic machinery which alternately exhibits the full development of the Messiah and the unfitness of the "Jewish dispensation" to continue. Inferribly, the story of the fig-tree is in the same case, signifying the condemnation of the Jewish cult, though here there may be a concrete motive of which we have lost the clue. But it is significant that while the gospel record could not possibly assign to the holy Messiah such a general course as was followed by the licensed sacrificial victim, it follows the story of his Entry with that of one markedly disorderly act; whereafter he goes to lodge in Bethany (Mt. xxi, 17) at a house which later is indicated as that of a leper (xxvi, 6). There his head is anointed by a woman; who in Luke, in a differently placed episode (vii, 37), becomes "a sinner." Is not this another echo from the obscure tragedy of the sacrificial victim, who was anointed for his doom? § 4. The Mock-King Ritual Separately considered, the Crucifixion in the gospel story is as impossible as the Entry. The cross, we are told, was headed with an inscription: "This is the King of the Jews." Sir J. G. Frazer [98] and M. Salomon Reinach [99] concur in recognizing that if the victim had really been executed on the charge of making such a claim, no Roman governor would have dared so to endorse it. [100] The argument is that only by turning the execution into a celebration of a popular rite could the procedure have been made officially acceptable. But to extract such an explanation from the record is simply to stultify it as such. If there really occurred such a manipulation of the death-scene of an adored Teacher, how could the narrators possibly fail to say as much? We are asked by the biographical school to believe that the Crucifixion was made a farce-tragedy by treating the Teacher as the victim in a well-known rite of human sacrifice, and also to believe that the devotees who preserved the record, knowing this fact, chose to say nothing about it, preferring to represent the procedure as a unique incident. It might perhaps be argued, on the biographical view, that the Roman soldiers, who are held to have been Asiatics, chose to improvise a version of a sacrificial rite which was unknown to the Jesuists, and that the latter simply reported the episode without understanding it, interpreting it from their prophets in their own way. But if the record be historical it is incredible that in a cult which is claimed to have made many adherents throughout the Roman Empire in east and west in a generation or two, it should not quickly have become known that the procedure of the Crucifixion was a copy of popular eastern and western rites of human sacrifice. If there had taken place what the hypothesis suggests, there was a purposive suppression. That is to say, the credibility of the narrative is at this point vitally impeached by a supporter of the biographical theory, which expressly rests on the narrative as regards non-miraculous data. And while on the one hand it is in effect charged with the gravest suppressio veri, on the other it is charged, equally in the name of the biographical view, with something more than suggestio falsi, with absolute fiction. M. Loisy does not merely dismiss the Barabbas story as unhistorical, offering no explanation of its strange presence: he comes critically to the conclusion that Jesus on the cross uttered no word, whether of despair, entreaty, or resignation. We need not ask what kind of credit M. Loisy can ask for a record which he thus so gravely discredits. The scientific question is, Upon what grounds can he demur to the extension of a myth-theory to which he thus contributes? If the record admittedly invented utterances for the Teacher on the cross, why should not the whole be an invention? In particular, why should not the trial before Pilate and the inscription on the cross be inventions? The inscription on the cross, we see, is for the great anthropologist of the school impossible save as part of a simulated ritual. M. Loisy, supporting the same general thesis, declares that "to say Jesus was not condemned to death as king of the Jews, that is to say, as Messiah, on his own avowal, amounts to saying [autant vaut soutenir] that he never existed." [101] It is even so; and the supporter of the myth-theory is thus doubly justified. The loyal induction is, not that in any rite of human sacrifice exactly such a label was affixed to the gibbet, but that probably some label was, and that the gospel framers (or one of them) "invented" a label which stated their claim for Jesus as Messiah. It was a fairly skilful thing to do, representing the label as a Roman mockery, and thereby making it an appeal to every Jew. [102] It is indeed conceivable that Roman soldiers taking part, once in a way, in the rite of Jesus Barabbas, may have turned that to a purpose of contempt by labelling the poor mock-king as the king of the Jews. But such an episode would not be the enactment of the scene described in the record. It would merely be a hint for it, the acceptance of which was but an additional item of fiction. That the Crucifixion, as described, is a normal act of ritual human sacrifice, is even more true than it is shown to be by the parallels of the Sacæa and the Saturnalia. The scourging, the royal robe, the mock crown, were all parts of those rituals, which thus conform in parody to the ritual of the mythic sacrifice of Ieoud, son of Kronos, probably parodied in the ritual for the victim sacrificed to Kronos at Rhodes. But so are the drink of wine and myrrh, the leg-breaking, and the piercing with the spear. The crown is a feature of all ancient sacrifice, in all parts of the world. Crowns of flowers were normal in the case of human victims, in India, in Mexico, in Greece, and among the North-American Indians, as in ordinary animal sacrifice among the Greeks, Romans, and Semites. But even the crown of thorns had a special religious vogue in Egypt, procured as such crowns were from thorn-trees near Abydos whose branches curled into garland-form. Prometheus the Saviour, too, receives from Zeus a crown of osiers; and his worshippers wore crowns in his honour. [103] Either some such special motive or the common practice in the popular rite will account for the record. And these items of the mock-king ritual exclude the argument which might possibly be brought from the fact that in the ancient world, as among primitives in general, all executions, as such, tend to assume the sacrificial form. The condemned criminal is "devoted," sacer, taboo, even as is the simply sacrificed victim, becoming the appanage of the God as is the God's representative who is sacrificed to the God. [104] It might therefore be argued that a man condemned on purely political grounds could be treated as a sacrificial victim. But there is no instance of the criminal executed as such being treated as the mock-king. A criminal might be turned to that account, but that would be by special arrangement: executed simply as a criminal, he would not be crowned and royally robed. These details were features of specific sacrifices: executions were only generically sacrificial, and were of course in no way honorary. In the gospel story, the two thieves are neither mocked, robed, nor crowned. They are not "Sons of the Father," or deputies of the King. § 5. Doctrinal Additions The question here arises, however, whether the triple execution was a customary rite. All executions being, as aforesaid, quasi-sacrificial, an ordinary execution might conceivably be combined with a specific sacrifice. It is to be observed that no mention of the triple execution occurs outside of the gospels: the Acts and the Epistles have no allusion to it. It is thus conceivably, as was hinted by Strauss, a late addition to the myth, motived by the verse now omitted as spurious from Mark (xv, 28), but preserved in Luke (xxii, 37): "And the scripture was fulfilled which saith, And he was reckoned with transgressors." But we are bound to consider the possibility that the triple execution was ritually primordial. The story of such an execution in the "Acts of Saint Hitzibouzit," martyred at some time in Persia, is evidently doubtful evidence for the practice, as Sir J. G. Frazer observes. The record runs that the saint was "offered up as a sacrifice between two malefactors on a hill top opposite the sun and before all the multitude," [105] suggesting that the sacrifice was a solar one. This is possible; but martyrology is dubious testimony. On the other hand Mr. W. R. Paton has suggested that the triple execution was a Persian practice, and was made to a triple God. [106] There is the notable support of the statement in a fragment of Ctesias (36) that the Egyptian usurper Inarus was crucified by Artaxerxes the First between two thieves. In addition to the cases of Greek sacrifices of three victims may be noted one among the Dravidians of Jeypore; [107] and the practice among the Khonds of placing the victim between two shrubs. In the Jeypore case one victim was sacrificed at the east, one at the west, and one at the centre of a village; and in another case two victims were sacrificed every third year. A triple execution might be a special event, in which two victims were both actually and ritually criminals, in order to enhance the divinity of the third. And we know that triple sacrifices did occur. The throwing of Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego into the fiery furnace was ostensibly a triple sacrifice: it will hardly be claimed as a historical episode in its subsisting form. On a careful balance, however, the presumption seems rather against a triple rite. What is quite clear is that for the early Jesuists the "prophecy" in 53rd Isaiah possessed the highest importance. For us, that lyric chapter is still somewhat enigmatic. Gunkel, who is here followed by Professor Drews, [108] takes the view that the suffering figure described is really that of the typical victim of the human sacrifice; and it certainly fits that conception at points where it does not easily compose with that of the figure of oppressed Israel. [109] The victim was "wounded for our transgressions, bruised for our iniquities"; and conceptually "with his stripes we are healed." On the other hand, who were "we" for "Isaiah" if not Israel itself? The only interpretation seems to be that the past generations had suffered for the present; and this does not yield an intellectually satisfying figure. But still more improbable, on the whole, is the suggestion that the Hebrew prophet or quasi-prophetic lyrist--whatever date we may assign to the chapter--has really perceived and figured the tragic vision of the sacrificial victim as he is here supposed to have done. It would be a psychological feat extremely remarkable even for that highly gifted writer; [110] and moreover it would finally compose still less with the general idea of the context than does the supposed presentment of the suffering People. It is difficult to reach any satisfying notion of Isaiah's general meaning on the view of Gunkel and Drews. We are thus far held, then, to the inference that, as Isaiah's chapter was certainly taken by the early Christists [111] who had adopted the Messianic idea to be a prophecy of their Messiah, the Christ myth was shaped in accordance with it. There are three main strands in the Christ myth, the Jesuist, the Christist or Messianic, and that of the Teaching God. The "suffering" motive serves to bind the three together; and the concrete item, "he was numbered with the transgressors," bracketed as it is with "he poured out his soul unto death," gives a very definite ground for the item of the forced companionship of the malefactors in the Crucifixion scene. It is, in short, apparently one of the specifically Judaic motives in the myth construction. Earlier in the narrative the Messiah is frequently grouped with "publicans and sinners": he comes "eating and drinking," in contrast with the ascetic figure of the Baptist. That feature is probably part of the atmosphere of the myth-motive of the sacrificial victim, with the leper-host and the anointing by the "sinner." But the "two thieves" are inferribly supplied from another side. In the first two gospels, the character of the unnamed anointress is tacitly suggested by the very reticence of the description, "a woman." In Jewry and in the East generally, the woman who went freely into men's houses was declassed; and the "sinner" of Luke was only a specification of the already hinted. But the story in Luke of the homage of the good thief is clearly new myth, coming of the widened ethic of the "gospel of the Gentiles." Matthew and Mark have no thought of anything but the association of the Messiah with typical transgressors in death: for them the two thieves are hostile. The "Gentile" gospel improves the occasion by converting one of the transgressors. No critical inquirer, presumably, now fails to see doctrinal myth at the second stage. It is only the atmosphere of presupposition that can keep it imperceptible in the first. In the making of the gospels, ritual myth, doctrinal myth, and traditional myth are co-factors; and it may be that even where doctrinal myth is quite clearly at work, as in the staging of the Messianic death "with transgressors," an actual ritual is also commemorated. § 6. Minor Ritual and Myth Elements In the later myth the robbers, as it happens, are made to embody certain features of sacrificial ritual. We are told in the fourth gospel that the Jews "asked of Pilate that their legs might be broken, and that they might be taken away,"--"that the bodies should not remain on the cross upon the sabbath, for the day of that sabbath was a high day." Accordingly the soldiers break the legs of the two thieves, "but when they came to Jesus, and saw that he was dead already, they brake not his legs." The implication is that the men's legs were to be broken by way of killing them--a patently untrue suggestion. [112] The spear-thrust which "howbeit" was given to Jesus would have been the way of killing the others if they were alive: breaking the legs was a brutality which would not ensure death. The explanation is that both leg-breaking and spearing were features of sacrificial rites. It may have been by way of purposive contrast to the former procedure that in the priestly ritual [113] of the passover it is enacted that no bone of the (unspecified) victim shall be broken. The breaking of the leg-bones in human sacrifice was one of the horrible expedients of the primitive world for securing the apparent willingness of the victim: it is to be found alike in Dravidian and in African sacrifice. [114] An alternative method, which tended to supersede the other, was that of drugging or intoxication, of which we find still more widespread evidence. In ancient Jerusalem, we find the practice transferred to ordinary execution on the cross, the humane women making a practice of giving a narcotic potion of wine and incense to the victim. [115] Thus associated with the deaths of ordinary criminals, it suggested to some of the Jesuist myth-makers a ground for specializing the record. In the first two gospels, a drink is offered to Jesus on the cross--wine [116] mingled with gall, in Matthew; wine mingled with myrrh in Mark--"but he received it not"; this, in Matthew, after tasting. The Marcan form is probably the first, as it describes the customary narcotic: the idea is to indicate that in the case of the divine victim no artifice was needed to secure an apparent acquiescence: he was a voluntary sufferer. "Gall," in Matthew, may have reference to pagan mysteries in which a drink of gall figured. [117] In Luke, vinegar is ostensibly offered as part of the derision. In John, no drink is mentioned till the end, when the dying victim says, "I thirst." Having partaken of "a sponge full of the vinegar upon hyssop," he says, "It is finished," and dies. In Matthew, this act of compassion takes a simpler form, the sponge of vinegar being given on the utterance of the despairing cry, while other bystanders jeer: in Mark, the giver of the sponge also jeers. It is needless to debate long over the priorities of such details: as regards the drink of vinegar, all alike have regard to Psalm lxix, 21: "They gave me also gall for my meat; and in my thirst they gave me vinegar to drink." For that reason, the wine-and-myrrh item is probably primordial: it tells of the sacrificial rite; and the drink of vinegar is a doctrinal addition; even as the rejection of the narcotic is doctrinal. For the variations which distinguish each narrative from the others, there is no reasonable explanation on the biographical view: if devoted onlookers could not preserve the truth at such a point, where could they be trusted? The mythical interpretation alone makes all intelligible. The fourth gospel, with its tale of the leg-breaking, supplies the strongest ground for surmising the occasional occurrence of a triple rite, in which the lesser victims were treated as sacrificed slaves normally have been in African and other human sacrifice, while the central victim was put on another footing. The express enactment in regard to the mysterious paschal sacrifice suggests that bone-breaking took place in others. In all likelihood, the original paschal sacrifice was that of a human victim of specially high grade: the substitution of the lamb was part of the process of civilization indicated in the myth of Abraham and Isaac. And if the knowledge of the death-rite of Jesus Barabbas could subsist in the first century or later, knowledge of an early triple rite could subsist also. But this remains open to doubt, though at several points the fourth gospel specially emphasizes the historical derivation of the cult from a sacrament of blood sacrifice. Nowhere else is the literal basis of the symbol of "body and blood" so insisted upon. Its writers had present to their minds an actual ritual in which the eating of the body of a Sacrificed God, first actually, then symbolically, was of cardinal importance. The later myth puts new stress on the conception, as if it had been felt that the earlier was not sufficiently explicit; and it makes the Jewish high-priest lay down the doctrine of human sacrifice from the Judaic side. [118] It is in this atmosphere of sacrificial ideas that we get the item of the piercing of the divine victim with a spear. The detail is turned specially to the account of the Johannine doctrine of resurrection by putting what passed in popular physiology for a certain proof of death--the issuing of "blood and water." [119] But here again we find both a Hebrew motive [120] and a pagan motive for the detail. In the sacrifice of the sacred slave of the Moon-Goddess among the primitive Albanians, the victim was allowed the customary year of luxury and licence, and was finally anointed and slain by being pierced to the heart with a sacred lance through the side. And there are other eastern analogues. [121] It is the fourth gospel, finally, that introduces the "garment without seam," combining a Hebraic with a pagan motive. In order to fulfil a "prophecy" held to be Messianic, [122] the synoptics make the soldiers cast lots for the garments of Jesus. The fourth gospel specifies a simple allotment of the garments in general, as if they could have been numerous enough to go round the soldiery, but limits the act of "casting lots" to the chiton, the under garment. Thus the soldiers both "divide the raiment" and cast lots for the "vesture." The making of this "without seam" is at once an assimilation of Jesus to the high-priest and an assimilation of the Slain God to the Sun-God and other deities. [123] A special chiton was woven for Apollo in Sparta; as a peplos or shawl was woven for Hêrê at Elis. And this in turn had for the pre-Christian pagans mystic meanings as symbolizing the indivisible solar robe of universal light, ascribed to Osiris; the partless robe of Ahura Mazda; Pan's coat of many colours, and yet other notions. Always the story is itemized in terms of myth, of ritual, of symbol, of doctrine, never in terms of real biography. § 7. The Cross It is not at all certain, and it is not probable, that in the earlier stages of the myth the cross as such was prominent. Early crucifixion was not always a nailing of outstretched hands in the cross form, but often a hanging of the victim by the arms, tied together at the wrists, with or without a support to the body at the thighs. [124] The stauros was not necessarily a cross: it might be a simple pile or stake. In the Book of Acts (v, 30) Peter and the Apostles are made to speak of Jesus "whom ye slew, hanging him on a tree." This was in itself a common sacrificial mode; and all sacrificial traditions are more or less represented in the New Testament compilation. But there was an irresistible compulsion to a divinizing of the cross as of the victim. Ages before the Christian era the symbol had been mystic and sacrosanct for Semites, for Egyptians, for Greeks, for Hindus; and the Sacred Tree of the cults of Attis, Dionysos, and Osiris lent itself alike to many symbolic significances. [125] The cross had reference to the equinox, when the sacred tree was cut down; to the victim bound to it; to the four points of the compass; to the zodiacal sign Aries, thus connected with the sacrificial lamb; [126] and to the universe as symbolized in the "orb" of the emperor, with the cross-lines drawn on it. The final Christian significance of the cross is a composite of ideas associated with it everywhere, from Mexico to the Gold Coast, in both of which regions it was or is a symbol of the Rain-God. [127] The Dravidian victim, the deified sacrifice, was as-it-were crucified; [128] as was a victim in a Batak sacrifice, where, as on the Gold Coast, the St. Andrew's-cross form is enacted. [129] The commonness of some such procedure in African sacrificial practice points to its general antiquity. It would appear, too, that in the mysteries of the Saviour Gods not only a crucified aspect of the God but a simulation of that on the part of the devotees was customary. Osiris was actually represented in crucifix form; [130] and in the ritual the worshipper became "one with Osiris," apparently by being "joined unto the sycamore tree." [131] When, then, in the Epistle to the Galatians [132] we find "Paul" addressing the converts as "those before whose eyes Jesus Christ was openly set forth (proegraphê) crucified," and declaring of himself: [133] "I bear in my body the marks of the Lord Jesus," we are at once pointed to the Syrian practice of stigmata, which appears to connect with both Osirian and Christian usage. In his remarkable account of the life of the sacred city of Hierapolis--a microcosm of eastern paganism--Lucian, after telling how children are sacrificed with the votive pretence that they are oxen, records that it is the universal practice to make punctures in the neck or in the hands, and that "all" Syrians bear such stigmata. [134] One of the principal cults of the place was that of Attis, the castrated God of Vegetation, in whose mysteries the image of a youth was bound to a tree, [135] with a ritual of suffering, mourning, resurrection and rejoicing. As Dionysos was also "he of the tree," it is not improbable that he, who also died to rise again, may have been similarly adored. On the other hand, the representation of the Saviour Prometheus suffering in a crucified posture tells of an immemorial concept. [136] For the Jews, finally, the cross symbol was already mystically potent, being a mark of salvation in connection with the massacre-sacrifice of the Passover, and by consequence salvatory in times of similar danger. [137] When with this was combined the mystic significance of the sign in Platonic lore as pointing to the Logos, [138] the mythic foundation for Christism was of the broadest. The crucifix is late in Christian art; but the wayside cross is as old as the cult of Hermes, God of boundaries. [139] § 8. The Suffering Messiah By way of accounting for the Jewish refusal to see in Jesus the promised Messiah, orthodox exegesis has spread widely the belief that it was no part of the Messianic idea that the Anointed One should die an ignominious death; and some of us began by accepting that account of the case. Clearly it was not the traditional or generally prevailing Jewish expectation. Yet in the Acts we find Peter and Paul alike (iii, 18; xvii, 3; xxvi, 23) made to affirm that the prophets in general predicted that Christ should suffer; and in Luke (xxiv, 26-27, 44-46) the same assertion is put in the mouth of Jesus. Either then the exegetes regard these assertions as unfounded or they admit that one school of interpretation in Jewry found a number of "prophetical" passages which foretold the Messiah's exemplary death. And the A. V. margin refers us to Ps. xxii; Isa. l, 6; liii, 5, etc.; Dan. ix, 26. Now, these are adequate though not numerous documentary grounds for the doctrine, on Jewish principles of interpretation. Jewish, indeed, the Messianic idea is not in origin: it is Perso-Babylonian; [140] and the idea of a suffering or re-arising Messiah may well have come in from that side. But equally that may have found some Jewish acceptance. We can see very well that in Daniel "the Anointed One"--that is, "the Messiah" and "the Christ"--refers to the Maccabean hero; but that as well as the other passages, on Jewish principles, could apply to the Messiah of any period; and the Septuagint reading of Psalm xxii, 16: "They pierced my hands and my feet," was a specification of crucifixion. It is not impossible that that reading was the result of the actual crucifixion of Cyrus, who had been specified as a "Christ" in Isaiah. We have nothing to do here with rational interpretation: the whole conception of prophecy is irrational; but the construing of old texts as prophecies was a Jewish specialty. When then a theistic rationalist of the last generation wrote of the gospel Jesus:-- His being a carpenter, occupying the field of barbaric Galilee, and suffering death as a culprit, are not features which the constructor of an imaginary tale would go out of his way to introduce wherewith to associate his hero, and therefore, probably, we have here real facts presented to us, [141] he was far astray. Anything might be predicated of a Jewish Messiah. Not only had the Messianic Cyrus been crucified: the anointed and triumphant Judas Maccabæus, under whose auspices the Messianic belief had revived in Israel in the second century B.C., had finally fallen in battle; and his brother Simon, who was actually regarded as the Messiah, was murdered by his son-in-law. [142] It is not here argued that the Messianic idea had been originally connected with the Jesus cult; on the contrary that cult is presented as a non-national one, surviving in parts of Palestine in connection with belief in an ancient deity and the practice of an ancient rite, in a different religious atmosphere from that of Messianism. The solution to which we shall find ourselves led is that at a certain stage the Messianic idea was grafted on the cultus; and this stage is likely to have begun after the fall of Jerusalem, when for most Jews the hope of a Maccabean recovery was buried. Then it was that the idea of a Messiah "from above," [143] supernaturally empowered to make an end of the earthly scene, became the only plausible one; and here the conception of a Slain God who, like all slain Gods, rose again, invited the development. Jesuists could now make a new appeal to Jews in general upon recognizably Jewish lines. They were of course resisted, even as Sadducees were resisted by Pharisees, and vice versa. The statement in the Messiah article in the Encyclopædia Biblica that it is highly improbable that "the Jews" at the time of Christ believed in a suffering and atoning Messiah is nugatory. No one ever put such a proposition. But "the Jews" had in course of time added much to their creed, and might have added this, were it not that the Jesus cult became identified with Gentile and anti-Judaic propaganda. In any case the idea arose among Jews, and quite intelligibly. The picture drawn by Isaiah was a standing incitement to the rise of a cult whose Hero-God had been slain. It was the one kind of Messianic cult which the Romans would leave unmolested. At the same time it committed the devotees to the position that the Messiah must come again, "in the clouds, in great glory"; and the Christian Church was actually established on that conception, which sufficed to sustain it till the earthly Providence of the State came to the rescue. Some of its modern adherents have not hesitated to boast that the common expectation of the speedy end of the world gave the infant Church a footing not otherwise obtainable. It was certainly a conditio sine qua non for Christianity in its infancy. As for the item of "the carpenter," we have seen [144] not only that that is mythic, but that the myth-theory alone can account for it. § 9. The Rock Tomb In the first gospel (xxvii, 57 sq.) we have a comparatively simple version of the story of Joseph of Arimathea, a rich disciple of Jesus, who gets the dead body of the crucified, wraps it in clean linen, and lays it "in his own new tomb, which he had hewed out in the rock." In Mark and Luke we have visibly elaborated accounts, in which, however, while the rock tomb is specified, it is not described as Joseph's "own," though it is represented as hitherto unused. Such a narrative points very directly to the Mithraic rite in which the stone image of the dead God, after being ritually mourned over, is laid in a tomb, which, Mithra being "the God out of the rock," would naturally be of stone--a simple matter in a cult whose chief rites were always enacted in a cave. [145] Details thus thrown into special prominence, while in themselves historically insignificant, can be understood only as mythically motived. So noticeable is the Mithraic parallel that the Christian Father who angrily records it exclaims, Habet ergo diabolus Christos suos--"the devil thus has his Christs." In Mithraism the rock tomb, which is an item in a ritual of death and resurrection, is mythically motived throughout: in the gospel story, historically considered, the item is meaningless. Obvious as is the mythological inference, it is met by the assertion that round Jerusalem "soil was so scarce that every one was buried in a rock tomb." [146] Such a criticism at once defeats itself. If every one was buried in a rock tomb, what was the point of the emphasised detail in the gospels, which are so devoid of details of a really biographical character? Obviously, rock tombs were the specialty of the rich; and Joseph of Arimathea is described in all the synoptics as a man of social standing. Is the motive of the story nothing better than the desire to record that Jesus was richly buried? "Scores of such tombs remain," cries the critic: "were they all Mithraic?" The argument thus evaded is that there was no real tomb. If there was one thing which the early Jesuists, on the biographical theory, might be supposed to keep hold of, it was the place of their Lord's sepulchre; yet nothing subsists but an admittedly false tradition. At Jerusalem, as one has put it, there are shown "two Zions, two Temple areas, two Bethanys, two Gethsemanes, two or more Calvarys, three Holy Sepulchres, several Bethesdas." [147] It is all myth. "There is not a single existing site in the Holy City that is mentioned in connection with Christian history before the year 326 A.D., when Constantine's mother adored the two footprints of Christ on Olivet." [148] She was shown nothing else. [149] "The position of the traditional sites of Calvary and the Holy Sepulchre, in the middle of the north quarter of Jerusalem, seems to have given rise to suspicions very early." [150] It well might. I have known a modern traveller who, on seeing the juxtaposed sites, at once realized that he was on the scene, if of anything, of an ancient ritual, not of events such as are narrated in the gospels. The traditional Golgotha is only fifty or sixty yards away from the Sepulchre; [151] and near by is "Mount Moriah," upon which Abraham is recorded to have sought to sacrifice Isaac. Colonel Conder, who accepts without misgiving all four gospel narratives, and attempts to combine them, avows that the "Garden Tomb" chosen by General Gordon, in the latterly selected Calvary, is impossible, being probably a work of the twelfth century; [152] and for his own part, while inclined to stand by the new Golgotha, avows that "we must still say of our Lord as was said of Moses, 'No man knoweth of his sepulchre unto this day.'" [153] Placidly he concludes that "it is well that we should not know." [154] But what does the biographical theory make of such a conclusion? Its fundamental assumption is that of Renan, that the personality of Jesus was so commanding as to make his disciples imagine his resurrection. In elaborate and contradictory detail we have the legends of that; and yet we find that all trace of knowledge alike of place of crucifixion and tomb had vanished from the Christian community which is alleged to have arisen immediately after his ascension. The theory collapses at a touch, here as at every other point. There is no more a real Sepulchre of Jesus than there is a real Sepulchre of Mithra; and the bluster which offers the solution that at Jerusalem every one was buried in a rock tomb is a mere closing of the eyes to the monumental fact of the myth. The critic is all the while himself committed to the denial that there was any tomb. Professing to follow the suggestion [155] of M. Loisy that Jesus was thrown into "some common foss," which in his hands becomes "the common pit reserved for crucified malefactors," he affirms [156] that "the words ascribed in Acts xiii, 29, to Paul certainly favour the Abbé's view." They certainly do not. The text in question runs: And when they had fulfilled all things that were written of him they took him down from the tree, and laid him in a tomb. The Greek word is mnêmeion--that used in the gospel story. There is thus no support whatever either for the suggestion of "a common foss" or for the allegation about "the common pit reserved for crucified malefactors"--a wholly unwarranted figment. The second "they" of the sentence is indefinite: it may mean either the Jews of the previous sentence or another "they": but either way it expressly posits a tomb. Yet after this deliberate perversion of the document, which of course he does not quote, the critic proceeds (p. 302) to aver that "the genuine tradition of Jesus having been cast by his enemies into the common pit reserved for malefactors ... survived among the Jews"; and that the tomb story was invented as "the most effective way of meeting" the imagined statement. Such an amateur inventor of myth is naturally resentful of mythological tests! § 10. The Resurrection If a suffering Messiah was arguable for the Jews, his resurrection after death was a matter of course. The biographical theory, that the greatness of the Founder's personality led his followers to believe that he must rise again, is historically as unwarrantable as any part of the biographical case. The death and resurrection of the Saviour-God was an outstanding feature of all the most popular cults of the near East; Osiris, Herakles, Dionysos, Attis, Adonis, Mithra, all died to rise again; and a ritual of burial, mourning, resurrection, and rejoicing was common to several. On any view such rituals were established in other contemporary cults; and it is this fact that makes it worth while in this inquiry to glance at a myth which is now abandoned by all save the traditionally orthodox. On the uncritical assumption that nothing but pure Judaism could exist in Jewry in the age of the Herods, the notion of a dying and re-arising Hero-God was impossible among Jews save as a result of a stroke of new constructive faith. That simple negative position ignores not only the commonness of the belief in immortality among Jews (the Pharisees all held it) before the Christian era, but the special Jewish beliefs in the "translation" of Moses and Elijah, and the story of Saul, the witch of Endor, and the spirit of Samuel. The very belief that the risen Elias was to be the forerunner of the Messiah was a lead to the belief that the Messiah himself might come after a resurrection. But it is practically certain that a liturgical resurrection was or had been practised in contemporary cults which had at one time enacted an annual sacrifice of the representative of the God, abstracted in myth as the death of the God himself. And in our own time the survival of an analogous practice has been noted in India. At the installation of the Rajahs of Keonjhur it was anciently the practice for the Rajah to slay a victim: latterly there is a mock-slaying, whereupon the mock-victim disappears. "He must not be seen for three days; then he presents himself to the Rajah as miraculously restored to life." [157] CHAPTER III ROOTS OF THE MYTH § 1. Historical Data It does not follow from the proved existence of mystery-dramas in pagan cults in the Roman empire in the first century, C.E., that the Jesuists had a similar usage; but when we find in the New Testament an express reference to such parallelism, and in the early Fathers a knowledge that such parallels were drawn, we are entitled to ask whether there is not further evidence. When "Paul" [158] tells his adherents: "Ye cannot drink the cup of the Lord and the cup of daimons: [159] ye cannot partake of the table of the Lord and of the table of daimons," he is complaining that some converts are wont to partake indifferently of the pagan and Christian sacraments. Few students now, probably, will assent to the view that the "tables of daimons," with their similar rites, were sudden imitations of the Christian sacraments. They were of old standing. But the Jesuist rite also was in all likelihood much older, in some form, than the Christian era. If there is any principle of comparative mythology that might fairly have been claimed as generally accepted by experts a generation ago, it is that "the ritual is older than the myth: the myth derives from the ritual, not the ritual from the myth." [160] This principle, expressly posited by himself as by others before him, Sir James Frazer resolutely puts aside when he comes to deal with the Christian mythus. Disinterested science cannot assent to such a course. That there were "tables" in the cults of many Gods is quite certain: temple-meals for devotees seem to have been normal in Greek religion; [161] and in the cults of the Saviour-Gods there were special collocations of sacramental meals with "mysteries." In particular, apart from the famous Eleusinian mysteries there were customary dramatic representations of the sufferings and death of the God in the cults of Osiris, Adonis, Attis, and Dionysos: in addition to a scenic representation of the death of Herakles; and a special system of symbolic presentation of the life of the God in the rites of initiation of the worship of Mithra. [162] It is not to be supposed that these religious representations amounted to anything like a complete drama, such as those of the great Attic theatre. Rather they represented early stages in the evolution which ended in Greek drama as we know it. Nearer analogues are to be found in the religious plays of various savage races in our own time. [163] What the mystery-plays in general seem to have amounted to was a simple representation of the life and death of the God, with a sacramental meal. The common objection to the hypothesis even of an elementary mystery-play in the pre-gospel stages of Jesuism is that Hebrew literature shows no dramatic element, the Jews being averse from this as from other artistic developments of religious instinct. To this we reply, first, that the mystery-play, as distinguished from the primary sacrament, may or may not have been definitely Jewish at the outset; and that the drama as seen developed in the supplement to the gospels is certainly manipulated by Gentile hands. But the objection is in any case invalid, overlooking as it does: 1. The essentially dramatic character of the Song of Solomon. 2. The partly dramatic character of the Book of Job. 3. The dramatic form of the celebration of Purim. 4. The existence in the Hellenistic period of theatres at Damascus, Cæsarea, Gadara, Jericho and Scythopolis, the first two being, as we learn from Josephus, built by Herod the Great. 5. The chronic pressure of Hellenistic culture influence upon Jewish culture for centuries. 6. The prevalence of Greek culture influence at the city of Samaria, Damascus, Gaza, Scythopolis, Gadara, Panias (Cæsarea Philippi). 7. The "half-heathen" character of the districts of Trachonitis, Batanea, and Auranitis, east of the Lake of Gennesareth. [164] Galilee, be it remembered, was late conquered "heathen" territory. 8. The long and deeply hostile sunderance, after the Return, between the priestly and rabbinical classes and the common people of the provinces. [165] 9. The "resuscitation of obsolete mysteries" among the Jews, and the known survival of private sacraments and symbolic sacrifices of atonement. [166] 10. The actual production of dramatic Greek poetry on Biblical subjects by the Jewish poet Ezechiel (2nd c. B.C.). [167] The eighth item needs to be specially insisted upon. It is frequently asserted that nothing in the nature of a heteroclite cult could subsist continuously in Jewry; that there were no religious ideas in the Jewish world save those of the Sacred Books of the Rabbis. [168] This is a historical delusion. The historical and prophetic books of the Old Testament affirm a constant resort to pagan rites and Gods before the Exile. There is official record of bitter strife and sunderance between those of the Return and the people they found on the soil. Malachi sounds the note of strife, lamenting popular lukewarmness, sacrilege and unbelief. The simple fact that after the Exile Hebrew was no longer the common language, and that the people spoke Aramaic or "Chaldee," tells of a highly artificial relation between hierarchy and populace. Never can even Judæa have been long homogeneous. "Neither in Galilee nor Peræa must we conceive of the Jewish element as pure and unmixed. In the shifting course of history Jews and Gentiles had been here so often, and in such a variety of ways, thrown together, that the attainment of exclusive predominance by the Jewish element must be counted among the impossibilities. It was only in Judæa that this was at least approximately arrived at by the energetic agency of the scribes during the course of a century." [169] The assumption commonly made is that all Jews and "naturalized" Jews were of one theistic way of thinking, like orthodox Christians, and, like these, could not imagine any other point of view. If for that entirely one-sided conception the inquirer will even substitute one in terms of the mixed realities of life in Christendom he will be much nearer the truth. Over and above the hatreds between sects and factions holding by the same formulas and Sacred Books, there were in Jewry the innovators, then as now: the minds which varied from the documentary norm in all directions, analogues of the devotees of "Christian Science," Bâbists, British Buddhists, Swedenborgians, Shakers, Second Adventists, Mormons, and so on, who from a more or less common basis radiated to all the points of the compass of creed. What faces us in the rise of Christianity is the development of one of those variants, on lines of adaptation to popular need, with an organization on lines already tested in the experience of Judaism. Among the common cravings of the age was the need for a near God, [170] one ostensibly more in touch with human sorrows and sufferings than the remote Supreme God. For the earlier Hebrews, Yahweh was a tribal God like Moloch or Chemosh, fighting for his people (when they deserved it) like other tribal Gods; a magnified man who talked familiarly with Abraham and Sarah, and wrestled with Jacob. [171] Even then, the attractions of other cults set up constant resort to them by many Yahwists, unless the historical Sacred Books are as illusory upon this as upon other topics. To say nothing of the continual charges against Jewish kings, from Solomon downwards, of setting up alien worships, and the express assertion of Jeremiah [172] that in Judah there were as many Gods as cities, and in Jerusalem as many Baal altars as streets, we have the equally explicit assertion in Ezekiel [173] that "women weeping for Tammuz" were to be seen in or at the Temple itself. Now, Tammuz was a Semitic deity, borrowed, it would seem, from the Akkadians, [174] an original or variant of Adonis, the very type of the Saviour-God we are now tracing. Tammuz, like Jesus, was "the only-begotten son." If it be argued that the worship of Tammuz must have disappeared during or after the Exile, since it would not be tolerated in the Second Temple, the answer is that Saint Jerome expressly declares that in his day the pagans celebrated the worship of Tammuz at the very cave in which Jesus was said to have been born at Bethlehem [175]--a detail of some significance in our inquiry. Tammuz = Adonis = "the Lord." That worship, indeed, might conceivably be a revival occurring after the fall of Jerusalem; but to say that there can have been no folklore about Tammuz in Jewry or Galilee or Samaria between the time of Ezekiel and that of Jerome would be to make an utterly unwarranted assertion. The belief may even have survived under another God-name. [Among the many obscurations of history set up by presuppositions is that which rules out all evidence for community of source in myths save that of philology, the most precarious of all proofs. The argument on this subject has been conducted even by opposing schools of philology as if all alike believed that every God, like every man, is an entity with a name, traceable by his name, and remaining substantially unchanged in his attributes through the ages. When Max Müller propounded such derivations as that of Zeus from the Sanskrit Dyaus, some scholars for whom Sanskrit was occult matter observed a respectful deference, while others debated whether the derivations were philologically sound. To mythological science, strictly speaking, it mattered little whether they were or were not. God-ideas may pass with little change from race to race through contacts of conquest, the attached God-names changing alike for "absorbed" races and for those which "absorb" them, whereas other God-names may endure with little change for ages while the attributes connected with them are being continuously modified, and the tales told under them are being perpetually added to, and many are dismissed. The Zeus of the Iliad is probably a wholly disparate conceptual figure from the Dyaus of the early "Aryan," supposing the names to be at bottom the same vocable. The philological fact is one thing, the mythological fact another. Writers like Dr. Conybeare, who have never even realized the nature of a mythological problem, bewilder their readers by blusterously affirming that there can be no homogeneity between myth-conceptions unless the names attached to them in different regions and by different races are etymologically akin. They irrationally ask for linguistic "equations" where a linguistic equation by itself would count for nothing, the relevant fact being the equation of the myth-concepts. Blind to the salient facts that every "race" concerned had undergone mutation by conquest; that God-names and God-ideas alike passed from race to race by intermarriages, [176] by the effects of enslavement, and by official adoption; [177] and that conquering races constantly adopted wholly or partly the "Gods" of the conquered, [178] they in effect assume that God-names and God-concepts are fixed entities, traceable solely by glossology. As if glossology could possibly pretend to trace, even on its own ground, all the transformations of proper-names and appellatives through different races and languages. The pretence that these are on all fours with the general development of language is mere scientific charlatanism. What mythology has to consider is the filiation and interconnection of myth-concepts. This is so pervading a process that even Max Müller, after denying that there could have been any "crossing" between Vedic and alien lines of thought in respect of the closely similar Babylonian fire-cult and that of Agni, consented to identify the Indian Soma, God of Wine, with the Moon-God Chandra. [179] The transmutations of a cognate myth-concept under the names of Dionysos (who has a hundred other epithets) and of the Latin Liber, constitute a mythological process which philology cannot elucidate. The scientifically traceable facts are the prevalence and translation of such concepts as Wine-God, Sun-God, War-God, Moon-God, Love-Goddess, Mother Goddess, Babe-God, through many races and regions. One myth-factor of great importance, unrecognized by many who dogmatize on such problems, is that of the influence of sculpture, [180] through which such figures as that of the Mother-Goddess become common property for many lands, setting up community of belief on one line irrespective of prevailing theologies. And it is quite certain that as the nations came to know more and more of each other's Gods they borrowed traits and tales, thus assimilating the general concepts attached to wholly different names. Seeing, then, further, that, as in the case of Yahweh, it was often a point of religious taboo that a deity should not be called by "his real name," and that nearly all had many epithets, there was no limit to the interaction and mutation of cults and God-norms. The exact derivation and history of the worship of Tammuz in Jewry no one can pretend to know; and no one therefore can pretend to know that it was not interlinked with other cults of names associated with sets of attributes, rites, and tales. In view of the idle declamation on the subject, it seems positively necessary to remind the reader that even if he believes in the historicity of Jesus he is not therefore entitled to assume the historicity of Tammuz-Dumzi-Adonis, or Myrrha, or Miriam, or Joshua; and that if he recognizes any connection, in terms of attributes, between the God-concepts Mars and Arês, or Zeus and Jupiter, or Aphroditê and Venus, or Artemis and Diana, and does not in these cases fall back upon the nugatory thesis of "two different deities," he is not entitled to do so over the suggestion that one popular Syrian cult of a Lord-name may have connected with another. There is really need here for a little critical vigilance, not to say psychological analysis.] Even if we assume the earlier Jewish cult of Tammuz to have been swept away in the Captivity, the new conditions would tend to stimulate similar popular cults. When, after the Exile, the conception of Yahweh began under Perso-Babylonian influences to alter in the direction of a universalist theism, the common tendency to seek a nearer God was bound to come into play. There is no more universal feature in religious history than the recession of the High Gods. [181] The more "supreme" a deity becomes, in popular religion, the more generally does popular devotion tend to elicit Son-Gods or Goddesses who seem more likely to be "hearers and answerers of prayer." Sacred Books certainly tend to check such a reversion; and in Islam the check has been successful in virtue of the very fact that Allah, like the early Yahweh, is in effect conceived as a racial God, or God of a single cult. But the tendency is seen at work all over the earth. The vogue of Apollo, of Dionysos, of Herakles, of Tammuz-Adonis, of Krishna, of Buddha, of Balder, of Athênê, of the Virgin Mary, of the countless deities propitiated by savage peoples who ignore their Supreme Gods, are all testimonies to the natural craving of religious ignorance for a near God. The same craving certainly subsisted among the Hebrews in so far as it was not completely laid by organized legalism. And seeing that the redactors of the Sacred Books had actually reduced many early deities--Abraham, Jacob, Joseph, Daoud = David, Moses, Joshua, and Samson--to the status of patriarchs and heroes, [182] the craving would among some be relatively strengthened. Jews who in time of trouble chronically reverted to alien Gods and alien rites, even as did the Greeks and Romans, could not conceivably fail altogether to adopt or cherish cults analogous to those of Dionysos, Adonis, Osiris, so popular among the neighbouring peoples. The hypothesis forced upon us by the whole history, then, is that there had subsisted in Jewry, in original connection with a sacrificial rite of Jesus the Son of the Father, a Sacrament of a Hero-God Jesus, whose Name was strong to save. If it took the form of a Sacrament of Twelve, with the ritual-representative of the God, it would be closely analogous to the traditional Sacrament of Twelve in which Aaron [the Anointed One = Messiah] and the [twelve] elders of Israel "ate bread with Moses' father-in-law before God." [183] Behind that narrative lies a ritual practice. A sacrament of bread and wine is further indicated in the mention of the mythic Melchisedek, "King of Peace" and priest of "El Elyon," [184] "without father and without mother, without genealogy, having neither beginning of days or end of life, but made like unto the Son of God," who thus became for Christists a type of Jesus. [185] A sacramental banquet of twelve seems to have been involved in the sacrificial ritual of the Temple itself, where a presiding priest and twelve others daily officiated. [186] That Galilean or other Jews or semi-Jews, always in a partly hostile relation to priests, scribes, and Pharisees, should in an age of chronic war, disaster and revolution, maintain an old private sacrament, with a subordinate worship of a Hero-God Jesus whose body and blood had once literally and now symbolically brought salvation, is not an unlikely but a likely hypothesis. The gospels themselves indicate an attitude of demotic hostility alike to the king, the priests, the scribes, the Pharisees, and the Sadducees. It is not pretended that before and apart from Jesus there was no such hostility, and that he generated it by his teaching. In a united community such hostility could not be so generated. It was there to start with. If then cults of Dionysos and Attis and Adonis, the annually dying and suffering demigods, could openly subsist in the Hellenistic world alongside of the State cults of Zeus and the other chief Gods, a secret cult of a Hero-God Jesus could subsist in some part of Jewry, with its survivals of rural paganism and its many contacts and mixtures with Samaritan schism and Hellenistic culture. Yet further, if the popular needs of the Hellenistic world could elicit and maintain a multitude of private religious associations, each with its own sacramental meal, [187] the same needs could elicit and maintain them elsewhere. To this thesis it is objected that we have no mention of the existence of a Jesus cult of any kind in the Hebrew books. But that is a necessity of the case. The Sacred Books would naturally exclude all mention of a cult which in effect meant the continued deification of Joshua, [188] who had long been reduced to the status of a mere hero in the history. That Joshua is a non-historical personage has long been established by modern criticism. [189] That he did not do what he is said in the Book of Joshua to have done is agreed by all the "higher" critics. Who or what then was Joshua? He is in many respects the myth-duplicate of Moses, whose work he repeats, passing the Jordan as did Moses the Red Sea, appointing his twelve, "renewing" the rite of circumcision, and writing the law upon stones. But he notably excels Moses in that he causes the sun and moon to stand still by his word; [190] and as this is cited from "Jasher," he is possibly the older figure of the two. And for the Jews he retained a special status. In his Book he is made (with a "thus saith the Lord") to give a list of the conquests effected by him against "the Amorite, and the Perizzite, and the Canaanite, and the Hittite, and the Girgashite, the Hivite, and the Jebusite." In Exodus xx, this very list of conquests, barring "the Girgashite," is promised, with this prelude:-- Behold, I [Yahweh] send an angel before thee, to keep thee by the way, and to bring thee into the place which I have prepared. Take ye heed of him, and hearken unto his voice: provoke him not, for he will not pardon your transgression; for my name is in him. The Angel who possesses or embodies the secret or magical name [191] is to do what Joshua in the historical myth says has been done under his leadership: [192] both passages stand. Further, the Angel of the passage in Exodus is in the Talmud identified with the mystic Metatron, [193] who corresponds generally with the Logos of Philo Judæus, the Sophia or Power of the Gnostics, and the Nous of Plotinus. The eminent Talmudic scholar, Emmanuel Deutsch, surmised that the Metatron is "most probably nothing but Mithra," the Persian Sun-God; and as the promised Divine One in the Septuagint version of Isaiah, ix, 6, bears the Mithraic titles of "Angel of Great Counsel" and Judge, there is perhaps ground for some such surmise. It may have been, indeed, that the redactors of the sacred books originally meant to substitute the Angel for Joshua in the esteem of the people, giving the former the credit for the exploits of the latter; but such a manipulation would be in itself a confession of Joshua's renown. And in the Samaritan Targums "the Angel of God" commonly stood for the divine names Jehovah and Elohim. [194] However that may be, the pseudo-historical Joshua could not have been elevated by the Talmudists to a divine status in other regards had he been a historical personage; and when we find him specially honoured in Samaria [195] we can draw no inference save that he was once a Palestinian deity. The fact that the name means "Saviour" [196] is of capital importance. In Jewish tradition and in his Book he is specially associated with the choosing of the Paschal lamb, the rite of the Passover, and the rite of circumcision. [197] Here then is the presumptive God for the early rite of Jesus the Son of the Father. As we shall see later, "the Angel of the Lord" is found to equate with "the Word of the Lord"--another cue for the gospel-makers. And in the Jewish New Year liturgy, to this day, Joshua-Jesus figures as the "Prince of the Presence," which again is supposed to identify him with Metatron as = meta thronou, "behind the throne." Only as a Palestinian deity thus subordinated to Yahweh is he explicable. And as the "Angel of the Presence" again occurs in Isaiah, lxiii, 9, figuring as Saviour and Redeemer, it is fairly clear that there was some Jewish doctrine which made of Joshua a Saviour deity. A high authority [198] pronounces that the "Angel of the Presence" is "probably Michael, who was the guardian angel of Israel." But Michael is a wholly post-exilic figure: was there no Hebrew prototype? However that may be, the ritual connection of the name Jesus (Joshua) with the title of Prince of the Presence has survived the intervention of Babylonian angelology, and remains to testify to a status for Joshua which can be explained only as a result of his original Godhood. [199] [To this inductive argument the only answer, thus far, seems to be to argue, as does Dr. Conybeare, that while "no one nowadays accepts the Book of Joshua offhand as sound history," nevertheless Joshua is there "a man of flesh and blood." [200] On the same reasoning, Samson cannot be an Evemerized deity, though his mythical character is clear to every mythologist. Such considerations our amateur meets by alleging that if "half-a-dozen or more" men "come along" mistaking an "astral myth" for a man, we should "think we were bewitched, and take to our heels." [201] In this connection Dr. Conybeare represents me as declaring Jesus to be "an astral myth." It is not clear whether Dr. Conybeare, who supposes totems to be Gods, knows what "astral myth" means, so I impute rather hallucination than fabrication. The rational reader is aware that no such theory has been put or suggested by me. [202] But as to his thesis, which would seem to imply that even solar deities could never be supposed by "half-a-dozen" to be real men, it is sufficient to point out that Herakles, the typical solar Hero-God, was believed by millions in antiquity to be a real man; and that Samson, obviously = the Semitic Shamas or Shimshai, a variant of Herakles, was believed by millions of Jews to have been a real man. It is needless here to go into the cases of Achilles and Ulysses; but the reader who would know more of mythology than has been discovered by Dr. Conybeare and his newspaper reviewers may usefully investigate these themes. As to Joshua, Dr. Conybeare, attempting academic humour, argues (p. 17) that if the hero is "interested in fruitfulness and foreskins" he ought to be conceived as a "Priapic god." The humorist, who pronounces his antagonists "too modest," seems to be unaware that Yahweh had the interests in question. Becoming "serious," he argues (p. 30) that "even if there ever existed such a cult, it had long vanished when the book of Joshua was compiled." For other purposes, he resorts (p. 16) to the test, "How do you know?" "Vanished," for Dr. Conybeare, means, "is not mentioned in the canonical Hebrew books." With his simple conceptions of the religious life of antiquity, he supposes himself to be aware of all that went on, religiously, in the lives of the much-mixed population of Palestine. His statement (p. 31) that "the Jews" in the fifth century B.C. "no longer revered David and Joshua and Joseph as sun-gods" is as relevant as would be the statement that they did not worship Zeus. No one ever said that "the Jews" carried on all their primitive cults in the post-exilic period: the proposition is the expression of mere inability to conceive the issue. When, on the other hand, Dr. Conybeare proceeds to notice the thesis that the ancient Jesuine sacrament would presumably survive as a secret rite, he disposes of the proposition by calling it "a literary trick." That would be a mild term for his express assertion (p. 34) that I have claimed that "the canonical Book of Joshua originally contained" the tradition that Joshua was the son of Miriam--an explicit untruth. My reference to deletions from the book expressly pointed to the theses of Winckler, a scholar whom Dr. Conybeare supposes himself to discredit by expressions of personal contempt. Winckler never put the hypothesis as to Miriam. [203] As to the survival of many private "mysteries" among the Jews, I may refer the reader to the section in Pagan Christs on "Private Jewish Eucharists" (p. 168 sq.), and in particular to the dictum, there cited, of the late Professor Robertson Smith (who has not yet, I believe, incurred Dr. Conybeare's tolerably indiscriminate contempt), that "the causes which produced a resuscitation of obsolete mysteries were at work at the same period [after the Captivity] among all the Northern Semites," and that "they mark the first appearance in Semitic history of the tendency to found religious societies on voluntary association and mystic initiation." To the "first" I cannot subscribe, save on a special construction of "appearance." But Robertson Smith's proposition was founded on the documentary evidence; and when he writes that "the obscure rites described by the prophets have a vastly greater importance than has been commonly recognized," with the addendum that "everywhere the old national Gods had shown themselves powerless to resist the gods of Assyria and Babylon," we are listening to a great Semitic scholar, an anthropologist, and a thinker, not to a "wilful child," as Dr. Conybeare may charitably be described, in words which, after his manner of polemic, he applies to me.] Finally, we have seen that a rite of "Jesus the Son," otherwise known as the "Week of the Son," was actually specified by the Talmudists of the period of the fall of the Temple. Taken with the item of the name Jesus Barabbas, "Jesus the Son of the Father," and the five-days' duration of the ritual of the sacrificed Mock-King, it completes a body of Jewish evidence for the pre-Christian currency of the name Jesus as a cult-name of some kind. It is now possible to see at once the force of the primary thesis of Professor W. B. Smith [204] that the phrase ta peri tou Iêsou, "the things concerning the Jesus," in the Gospels and the Acts, [205] tells of a body of Jesus-lore of some kind prior to the gospel story; and also the significance of the fact that the narrative of the Acts represents the new apostle as finding Jesus-worshippers, albeit in small numbers, wherever he went. To suppose that this could mean a far-reaching and successful propaganda by "the Twelve" in the short period represented to have elapsed between the Crucifixion and the advent of Paul is not merely to take as history, or summary of history, the miracle of Pentecost, but to ignore the rest of the narrative. First we are told (viii, 1) that after the martyrdom of Stephen the Christists "were all scattered abroad throughout the regions of Judæa and Samaria, except the apostles." It is only to Samaria that Philip goes at that stage, and his doings are on the face of them mythical. Yet Saul on his conversion finds the "disciple" Ananias at Damascus. Then Peter "went throughout all parts" (ix, 32), reaching Lydda, where he finds "saints"; and then it is that "the apostles and the brethren that were in Judæa heard that the Gentiles also had received the word of God" (xi, 1). It is after this that "they that were scattered abroad upon the tribulation that arose about Stephen travelled as far as Phoenicia and Cyprus and Antioch, speaking the word to none save only to Jews. But there were some of them, men of Cyprus and Cyrene, who when they were come to Antioch spake unto the Greeks [or Grecian Jews] also, preaching the Lord Jesus" (xi, 19). Already there is an ecclesia at Antioch (xiii, 1) with nothing to account for its existence. At this stage it is represented that Saul and Barnabas customarily preach Jesuism in the Jewish synagogues; and that only after "contradiction" from jealous Jews at Antioch of Pisidia do they "turn to the Gentiles" (xiii, 46), continuing, however, to visit synagogues, till the Jewish hostility becomes overwhelming. At Jerusalem, meanwhile, after all the gospel invective against the Pharisees, there are found "certain of the sect of the Pharisees who believed," and who stand firm for circumcision. Ere long we find at Ephesus the Alexandrian Jew Apollos, who "taught carefully the things concerning Jesus, knowing only the baptism of John," having been "orally instructed in the way of the Lord" (xviii, 25), but had to be taught "more carefully" by Priscilla and Aquila. Then he passes on to Corinth. Paul in turn (xix) shows at Ephesus, where he finds other early Jesuists, that they of the baptism of John, though by implication they held that "Jesus was the Christ," had not received "the Holy Ghost," which went only with the baptism of Jesus--the baptism which only the fourth gospel alleges (with contradictions), the synoptics knowing nothing of any baptism by Jesus or the disciples; and only Matthew and Mark even alleging that after resurrection he prescribed it. In all this the hypnotized believer sees no untruth. To the eye of reason there is revealed a process of primitive cult-building. In whatever direction we turn, we thus find in the Jesuist documents themselves the traces of a "pre-Christian" Jesuism and Christism. At Ephesus, the believers "were in all about twelve men"--the number required for the primitive rite. The subsequent statement (xix, 9-10) that after Paul had debated daily for two years at Ephesus "all they which dwelt in Asia heard the word of the Lord, both Jews and Greeks," is typical of the method of the pseudo-history. Either the whole narrative is baseless fiction or there were prior developments of the Jesus-cult. It may be argued, indeed, that such a work of manipulation as the Acts is no evidence for anything, and that its accounts indicating a prior spread of Jesuism are no more to be believed than its miracle stories. But however fictitious be its accounts of any one person, it is certain that there was a cult; and all critics are now agreed that the book is a redaction of previous matter--probably of Acts of Paul, Acts of Peter, Acts of the Apostles, and so on. And whereas the most advantageous fiction from the point of view of the growing "catholic" church would be an account of the apostles as everywhere making converts, stories of their finding them must be held to have been imposed on the redactor by his material. There also it must be held to stand for some reality in the history of the cult, for the same reason, that there was nothing to be gained by inventing such a detail. § 2. Prototypes Still we are met by the objection that whatever the Acts may say the gospels give no indication of any previous Jesus-cult. But that is a position untenable for the biographical school save by a temporary resort to the theory of myth-making. As Professor W. B. Smith has pointed out, the gospels expressly represent that the disciples healed the sick in the name of Jesus in places where Jesus had never been. For the supernaturalists, that is only one more set of miracles. But the biographical school, though it is much inclined to credit Jesus with occult "healing powers," can hardly affirm such healing by means of a magic name, and has no resource but to dismiss all such matter. [206] Yet why should the evangelists have framed such a narrative save on the knowledge that the name of Jesus was a thing to conjure with in Palestinian villages? It is true that the story is fully told only of the mission of the Seventy. In Matthew the Twelve are "sent" out but neither go nor return, for the narrative continues with them present. In Mark and Luke, the Twelve go and return without reporting anything, though Mark tells that they preached repentance, cast out many devils, and healed many sick by anointing them with oil. Evidently the mission was a heedless addition to the older gospel or gospels: the third attempts to give it some completeness. It is only the Seventy who make a report; and it is only of them (Lk. x, 1) that we are told they were to go to places "whither he himself was about to come." As the episode of the Seventy is in effect given up as myth even by many supernaturalists (who feel that, if historical, the episode could not have been overlooked in Matthew and Mark), the biographical school are so far entitled to say that for them the record does not posit a previously current Jesus-Name. But what idea then do they connect with the sending-out of the Twelve, if not the kind of idea that is associated with the sending-out of the Seventy? M. Loisy feels "authorized to believe" (1) that Jesus in some fashion chose twelve disciples and sent them out to preach the simple "evangel" that "the Kingdom of God was at hand"--that is, merely the evangel of John the Baptist over again; and (2) that "it seems" that they went two by two in the Galilean villages, and were "well received: their warning was listened to: sick persons were presented to them to heal, and there were cures." To say this is to say, if anything, that for the first Christians the Name of Jesus was held to have healing power before his deification, and that it was a known name. But we have stronger documentary grounds than these. The Apocalypse is now by advanced critics in general recognized to have been primarily a Judaic, not a Christian document. [207] The critics apparently do not realize that this verdict carries in it the pronouncement that Jesus was probably a divine name for some section of the Jews before the rise of the Christian cult. The twelve apostles enter only in an interpolation: [208] in the main document we have the "four and twenty elders" of an older cult, [209] answering to the twenty-four Counsellor Gods of Babylonia. Even if we assign the book to a "Christian" writer of the earliest years, at the very beginning of the Pauline mission, [210] we are committed to connecting the cult at that stage with the doctrine of the Logos, [211] with the Alpha and Omega, and with the Mithraic or Babylonian lore of the Seven Spirits. Of the gospel story there is no trace beyond the mention of slaying: on the other hand the Child-God of the dragon-story is wholly non-Christian, and derives from Babylon. The entire book, in short, raises the question whether the Jesus-cult may not have come in originally (as so much of Judaism did), or been reinforced, from the side of Babylon, down even to the name of Nazareth, since there was a Babylonian Nasrah. As Samaria, the seat of the special celebration of Joshua, is historically known to have been colonised from Assyria and Babylon, the possibilities are wide. Suffice it that the Apocalypse indicates a strong Babylonian element in some of the earliest real documentary matter we have in connection with the Jesuist cult in the New Testament; and at the same time makes certain the pre-Gospel currency of a Jesus-cult among professed Jews. Yet another clue obtrudes itself in the Epistle of Jude--or, as it ought to be named, Judas--a document notably Jewish in literary colour. Mr. Whittaker [212] was the first of the myth-theorists to lay proper stress on the fact that the reading "Jesus" (= Joshua) in verse 5, [213] alone makes the passage intelligible:-- Now I desire to put you in remembrance, though ye know all things once for all, how that Jesus [that is, Joshua, instead of "the Lord"] having saved a people out of the land of Egypt the second time [214] [Moses having saved them the first time], destroyed them that believed not. And angels which kept not their own principality, but left their proper habitation, he hath kept in everlasting bonds under darkness unto the judgement of the great day. The reference is certainly to Joshua, who is here quasi-deified. Plainly, as Mr. Whittaker observes, "the binding of erring angels can only be attributed to a supernatural being, and not to a mere national hero." And, as Mr. Whittaker also notes, we have yet another clear indication from the Jewish-Christian side that Joshua in Jewish theology had a heavenly status. In the "Sibylline Oracles" there occurs the passage:-- Now a certain excellent man shall come again from heaven, who spread forth his hands upon the very fruitful tree, the best of the Hebrews, who once made the sun stand still, speaking with beauteous words and pure lips. [215] "The identification of Christ with Joshua," remarks the orthodox translator cited, "is a mixture of Jewish and Christian legend (sic) which is unique. It is no question of symbolism here, as Joshua in Christian writings is treated as a type of Christ, but rather the confusion is such as might be made by an ignorant person reading, Heb. iv, 8, 'if Jesus had given them rest,' and concluding that Jesus Christ led the Jews into Canaan. The author, indeed, identifies himself with the Jews, as where he prays (vers. 327 ff.): 'Spare Judea, Almighty Father, that we may see thy judgments'; and were it credible that the whole book was the work of one author, we should regard his religion as syncretic, and in full accord neither with law nor gospel. But the book ... is of composite character. One writer may have been a Christian; another filches occasionally from Christian sources, but has no lively faith in Christ: like many of his countrymen at this time, he suspends his judgment, and instead of making a decision expends his energies in denunciation of the hated power of Rome, and in speculations concerning the future." It matters not whether the writer was or was not a confident Christian: Judaic by upbringing or tuition he certainly was; and his identification of Jesus the Christ with Joshua is one more of the proofs that for many Jews Joshua had a quasi-divine status, as was fitting for a personage who "made the sun stand still." Taken collectively, the proofs cannot be overridden or explained away. Joshua was for the Jews of the Hellenistic period the actual founder of the rite of circumcision: [216] that is to say, mythologically, he was the God of the rite. But still more weighty is the evidence that his name lived on as that of the God-victim of a kindred rite; and it is on that basis that there was founded the rite which is for Christianity what circumcision had been for Judaism. Circumcision is a rite of redemption, the giving of a symbolic part of the body to "redeem" the whole--a surrogate for the Passover sacrifice of the first-born, developed into a racial theocratic rite. It is significant that the Saviour-God of this rite becomes the Saviour-God of the rite offered in place of that of the Passover, whereby the primordial human sacrifice is re-typified in that of the deity who once for all dies for all. It is upon such roots of pre-historic religion that the world-religions grow. § 3. The Mystery-Drama That there was an actual mystery-drama behind the gospel tragedy is revealed by the document itself, which is demonstrably not primarily a narrative at all, but a drama transcribed, with a minimum of necessary elucidation. Only the habit of reading with uncritical reverence can conceal from a student the dramatic bareness and brevity of the record in the synoptics--a record which in the fourth gospel is grafted, without any real development, on a protracted discourse that only artificially suggests circumstantial reality. Chapter xiii is as it were inserted in the middle of that discourse; and chapter xiv proceeds as from the end of chapter xii. The original document cannot have had the story of the tragedy in this form. At the close of chapter xiv the "Arise, let us go hence," is a slight artifice to suggest action where there is none. Only at chapter xviii is the action resumed; and it is as bare and formal as in the synoptics. Broadly speaking, the action is something superadded. A long discourse has been wrapped round the first section, but without altering its compressed character. The synoptics know nothing of the Johannine discourses: the Johannine document knows no more of a historic episode than do the synoptics: it can only invent monologues. Reading the synoptic account, we find a series of separate scenes, with the barest possible explanatory connection and introduction. The treason of Judas, in itself a myth, [217] is announced beforehand in three sentences, with no sign of reflection on the meaninglessness of the situation posited. A mystico-mythical episode of a message from the Master to one who is to prepare the passover meal comes next. In Matthew the message is to "such a man"--undescribed: in Mark, a man carrying a pitcher of water is to be seen and followed, and "wheresoever he shall enter in" the message is to be delivered to "the goodman of the house," and the room will be shown ready. To read biography in this, or to ascribe a "primitive" trustworthiness to the Marcan story, is to cast out criticism. But the Supper itself is presented with the same ceremonial effect; the whole content being the mention of the betrayal and the dogmatic meaning of the ritual. In Mark, the whole episode of the Supper occupies eight sentences: in Matthew, where Judas puts his question and gets his answer, ten. After the singing of a hymn, the scene changes instantly to the Mount of Olives. No reason is assigned for the going out into the night: it is taken for granted that the Divine One is going to his death, of his own will and prevision. Either we believe this, making him a God, or we recognize a myth. Biography it cannot be. And drama it clearly is. On the Mount, there is another brief dialogue, committing Peter and the other disciples--a wholly hostile presentment. Again the scene changes to Gethsemane, where the three selected disciples with whom Jesus withdraws actually sleep while he utters the prayer set down. There was thus no one to hear it. Any biographical theory which is concerned to respect verisimilitude must here recognize something else than narrative, and will presumably posit invention. But why should invention take this peculiar form? If the object was to impeach the disciples--and they certainly are impeached--is it not an impossibly crude device to tell of their sleeping throughout the prayer and its repetition, leaving open the retort: "You report the words of the prayer: from whom did you get them if not from those disciples, who must have heard them?" But if we suppose the scene first presented dramatically, no perplexity or counter-sense is involved. The impeachment is effectual; the episode is seen; and no one is concerned, in presence of a drama, to ask how certain words came to be known to have been spoken by any personage. It is the reduction to narrative form that betrays the dramatic source. And when we find in both Matthew and Mark, which clearly embody the same original document, this sequence: And again he came, and found them sleeping ... and they wist not what to answer him [nothing has been said]. And he cometh the third time, and saith unto them, Sleep on now, and take your rest: it is enough; the hour is come: behold, the son of man is betrayed.... Arise now ..., the documentary crux, which the biographical school makes vainly violent attempts to solve, is at once solved when we realize that in the transcription two speeches have accidentally been combined. The drama must have gone thus:-- The disciples still asleep. Enter Jesus. Jes. Sleep on now and take your rest. [Exit. Enter Jesus. (Disciples still asleep.) Jes. It is enough: the hour is come, etc. The transcriber, missing an exit and an enter, has simply run two speeches together; and the gospel copyists have faithfully followed their copy, putting "they wist not what to answer him" in the wrong place. In an original narrative the combination could not happen. In the transcription of the copy of a play it could easily happen. We find instances in the printing of the plays of Shakespeare and other early dramatists. [One antagonist of the mystery-play theory, making no attempt to rebut the above solution, denies that it can be applied to the midnight trial before the priests, elders, and scribes. Of this trial M. Loisy recognizes the impossibility: pronouncing that, sans doute, the asserted search for witnesses by night never took place. But, says the objector [218]:-- (1) It may be incredible history; but it is impossible drama. I defy Mr. Robertson to say how it could have been represented on the stage, or why it should have been given a place in a drama at all. And he is searching for evidence of drama. (2) The incident exists only in Mr. Robertson's imagination. The Greek phrase in Mk. xiv, 55, is the regular phrase for sifting evidence, and does not imply or suggest any hunting up of witnesses throughout Jerusalem. We have here three propositions:-- 1. The midnight search for witnesses is impossible in drama. 2. It is impossible to give a reason why it should have been put in a drama. 3. The record does not say that it took place. The first is at once annihilated by briefly dramatizing the alleged procedure:-- Priest (or other official, to officials). Go and bring the witnesses to convict this fellow. [Exeunt Officials. Priest consults with his fellows. Enter Officials with a witness. Exeunt Officials. Witness is examined: the evidence is confused. Enter Officials with another witness. Exeunt. Witness is examined: evidence conflicts with that already given. (And so with a series of witnesses.) Enter Officials with two more witnesses. Witnesses, examined, testify, with some contradictions in detail, "This man said"--etc. High Priest (standing). Answerest thou nothing? etc. Where is the difficulty? It is precisely in drama, and in drama alone, that the impossible narrative can pass as possible. Action on the stage is always telescoped: time is always more or less ignored, because the selected action must go on continuously. Again and again in Shakespeare (or rather in pseudo-Shakespeare) we find irrelevant and futile scenes interposed to create the semblance of a time interval; but in Othello and Measure for Measure, to name no other plays, the action is impossibly telescoped. The explanation is that in the psychology of the theatre time is disregarded, save by the most critical. The simple-minded audience of devotees which witnessed the Christist mystery-play would never ask "How did they hunt up those witnesses in Jerusalem at midnight?" Solvitur ambulando, so to speak: they saw the trial. It is when the play is transmuted to dead narrative, wherein a number of questions and answers are reduced to a few bald statements, that the impossibility obtrudes itself. Our critic defies us to explain how such a trial came to be put in a drama. It is hard to see why he is puzzled. The general object of the whole tragedy is to show Jesus as the victim, first, of the priests, elders, and scribes--the Jewish ecclesiastical order, whose hostility to Jesus is a constant datum of the gospels. At this stage the mystery-play has become a Gentile-Christian performance, in which even the Jewish disciples play a poor part, while the official class are the mainspring of the tragedy. How could the priests be more effectively impeached than by exhibiting them as producing plainly suborned evidence to convict Jesus? Lord Tennyson, in our time, put a bad freethinker in a bad play to discredit freethinking. And he had non-canonical as well as canonical precedents. The apocryphal "Acts of Pilate" appears to follow a drama in which a great many gospel episodes were dramatized as well as the trial. [219] As for the critic's assertion that a midnight search for witnesses is not posited in the narrative, it is again impossible to follow his reasoning. If the ezêtoun ... martyrian of Mark means "sifted evidence," the ezêtoun pseudomartyrian of Matthew means "sifted false evidence." The theory of "sifting" is impossible. I have had the curiosity to examine ten translations--Latin, German, modern Greek, Italian, French, and English, without finding that one translator has ever dreamt of it. All agree with the current English rendering, which means sought [false] testimony, because no other rendering is possible. The record goes on, in Mark:-- ... and found it [i. e. the required evidence] not. For many bare false witness against him and their witness agreed not together. And there stood up certain, and bare false witness against him.... And not even so did their witness agree together. And the high priest stood up.... According to the new theory, the prosecution "sifted evidence" which "stood up," as did the high priest. Defending his thesis, the exegete argues [220] that the "evidence" was not written but oral; that is to say, the authorities had collected witnesses during the day and had then kept them till midnight or later without ascertaining what evidence they were able to give. The narratives neither say nor hint anything of the kind; whereas if such had been supposed to be the fact it would have been the natural thing to say so. But the thing alleged is unnatural. On the one hand we are asked to believe that the authorities had before sunset collected a number of witnesses, when they could not have any certainty of making the arrest; on the other hand we are to believe that with all this extraordinary fore-planning they had not taken the normal precaution of ascertaining what the witnesses could say. In the transcribed drama as it stands, the authorities are represented as knaves; in the interpretation before us, framed to save the credit of the narrative, they are represented as childishly foolish. The narrative as we have it defies its vindicators. It tells that witnesses were sent for; and only in a drama, in which time-conditions are ignored, could such a fiction have been resorted to.] #/ The story is equally dramatic to the close. Everything is scenic, detached, episodic: it is left to Luke (who elaborates the Supper scene; gives a positive command of Jesus for the future celebration where the previous documents merely show the rite as it was practised; puts the denial of Peter before the trial; and drops the whole procedure of the witnesses) to interpose the episode of the daughters of Jerusalem between the Roman trial and the crucifixion; and even that is parenthetic and dramatic, as are the burial and the seeking; whereafter, in Mark, the gospel abruptly ends. The rest is supplementary documentation. How much of that may have been dramatized, it is impossible to say. That there had been evolution in the mystery-play is involved in our conception of it. It began with the simple Sacrament, at a remote period, the Sacrament itself being evolved from a primitive and savage to a symbolic form, the God being probably first represented, as in kindred rites, [221] by his sacrificial priest; and later by the victim. [222] It is after the primitive and localized cult seeks the status of a world-religion that the ritual developes into a quasi-history; and we can see conflicting influences in that. One writer causes Jesus to be buffeted and mocked at the Jewish trial, as if to counterbalance the derision in the Roman trial; even as Luke interposes a third trial before Herod, to make sure that the guilt should ultimately lie with the Jewish government. In the action as in the doctrine, the Gentile influence finally predominates. The important point to note in the documentary evolution is that the mystery-play remained a secret representation for some time after written gospels were current. To begin with, all the mystery-plays of the age were on the same footing of secrecy. What takes place finally in the Jesuist cult is a simple adding-on of the mystery-play to the gospels. It was not for nothing that the school of B. Weiss, seeking to expiscate a "Primitive Gospel" from the synoptics, made it end before the Tragedy. This was what they were bound to do by their documentary tests; and the common objection that such an ending is very improbable--a difficulty avowed by Weiss and weakly sought to be solved by some of the school--is seen in the light of the myth-theory to be a difficulty only for those who assume not merely the historicity of a Jesus but the historicity of the whole tragedy story down to the resurrection. Once it is realized that that story is a dramatic development of an originally simple myth of sacrificial death, the documentary difficulty disappears. [It should not be necessary to point out the absolute falsity of the assertion of Dr. Conybeare (Histor. Christ, p. 49) that in my theory "The Christian Gospels ... are a transcript of the annually performed ritual drama, just as Lamb's Tales from Shakespeare are transcripts of Shakespeare's plays." In Pagan Christs (p. 201) it is expressly argued that "the Mystery Play is an addition to a previously existing document.... The transcriber has been able to add to the previous gospel the matter of the mystery-play; and there he loyally stops." And it is repeatedly pointed out that the transcription has been made with the minimum of necessary narrative connection. Thus the parallel with Lamb's Tales is false even as regards the matter posited as constituting the play; while the assertion that the whole of the gospel is represented as a transcription of a play is pure fabrication. And this mere falsification of the theory passes with traditionalist critics as a confutation.] Some account, indeed, the Jesuists must have given of the death of their God or Son-God when they reached the stage of systematic propaganda; and this was in all likelihood a bare statement such as we have in the Epistles, that he was put to a humiliating death and rose again. It is very likely that accounts of the manner of the death varied in the first written accounts, as they certainly would in the traditions or rituals current at various points; and we may grant to the documentary critics that various versions may have attached to early forms or sources of Mark and Matthew. A general statement that Jesus was the "Son of the Father," and that he had been put to death with ignominy, would elicit, as has been above argued, the objection that "Jesus Barabbas" was certainly no divine personage. The Barabbas story, then, explaining away that objection, is a comparatively late development, of which, accordingly, we find not a single trace in the Acts or the Epistles. But similarly the Supper is not described in the Acts or the Epistles apart from the plainly interpolated account in First Corinthians. And at the outset the Supper would be emphatically secret matter, not to be written down. Whatever conclusion, then, was given to the earlier gospel or gospels, it did not include that. As little would it give the Agony, or the trials before the Sanhedrim and before Pilate, throwing the guilt of the tragedy on the Jews, or the episodes disparaging the apostles. Judas is in all likelihood primarily a figure of a Gentile form of the play, being just Judaios, a Jew, [223] created by Gentile or Samaritan animus. What inferribly happened was a dramatic development, by Gentile hands, of a primarily simple mystery drama, consisting of the Supper, the death, and the resurrection, into the play as it now stands transcribed in the synoptics, with the Betrayal, the Agony, the Denial, the Trials, and the dramatic touches in the crucifixion scene. The school of Weiss, then, on our theory, reached by comparatively consistent methods of documentary criticism a relatively sound conclusion. The earlier forms of the gospel certainly had not the present conclusion; and whatever simple conclusions they had were bound to be superseded when the complete mystery play was transcribed--the very transcription being a reason for their disappearance. At some point, probably by reason of the Christian reaction against all pagan procedure, the play, which in its present form must always have been special to a town or towns, was dropped, and though the tendency was to keep the Eucharist an advanced rite for initiates, and withhold it from catechumens, [224] the reduction of the Tragedy to narrative form became a necessity for purposes of propaganda. Without it, the gospels were inadequate to their purposes; and it supplied the needed confutation of the charge that Jesus was simply a victim in the Barabbas rite. This said, we have still to face the main problem of the evolution of the Jesus-cult into a world-religion in which the God Sacrificed to the God becomes also the Messiah of the Jews and the Teacher of those who believe in him. And the tracing of that evolution must obviously be difficult. The process of extracting true out of false history is always so; and where the concocted history and its contingent literature are the main documents, we can in the nature of things reach only general conceptions. But general conceptions are attainable; and we must frame them as scientifically as we can. CHAPTER IV THE EVOLUTION OF THE CULT § 1. The Primary Impulsion Professor W. B. Smith, whose brilliant, independent, and powerful advocacy of the myth-theory has brought conviction to readers not otherwise attracted by it, has stressed two propositions in regard to the evolution of the Jesus-cult. One is that the movement was "multifocal," starting from a number of points; [225] the other that the essential and inspiring motive was the monotheistic conception, as against all forms of polytheism; Jesus being conceived as "the One God." [226] That the first proposition is sound and highly important, I am convinced. But after weighing the second with a full sense of the acumen that guides all Professor Smith's constructive speculation, I remain of the opinion that it needs considerable modification. [227] In clearing up these two issues, we shall go a long way towards establishing a clear theory of the whole historical process. In the first place, a "multifocal" movement, a growth from many points, is involved in all our knowledge of the highly important matters of the history of the early Christian sects, and the non-canonical Christian documents. Perhaps the proposition is even more widely true than Professor Smith indicates. To begin with, we find at an early stage the sects of (1) Ebionites and (2) Nazarenes or Nazareans, in addition to (3 and 4) the Judaizing and Gentilizing movements associated with "the Twelve" and Paul respectively; and yet further (5) the movement associated with the name of Apollos. Further we have to note (6) the Jesuism of the Apocalypse, partly extra-Judaic in its derivation; and (7) that of the ninth section of the Teaching of the Twelve Apostles, which emerges as a quasi-Ebionitic addition to a purely Judaic document--not yet interpolated by the seventh section. Yet further, we have (8) the factors accruing to the religious epithet "Chrestos" [228] (= good, gracious), which specially attached to the underworld Gods of the Samothracian mysteries; also to Hermes, Osiris, and Isis; and (9 and 10) the Christist cult-movements connected with the non-Jesuine Pastor of Hermas and the sect of the Eleesaites. [229] And this is not an exhaustive list. (11) That there was a general Jewish ferment of Messianism on foot in the first century is part of the case of the biographical school. That there actually arose in the first and second centuries various Jewish "Christs" is also a historical datum. But the biographical school are not wont in this connection to avow the inference that alone can properly be drawn from the phrase of Suetonius as to a movement of Jewish revolt at Rome occurring in the reign of Claudius impulsore Chresto, "(one) Chrestus instigating." [230] This is not an allusion to the Greek epithet Chrestos before referred to: it is either a specification of an individual otherwise unknown or the reduction to vague historic status of the source of a general ferment of Jewish insurrection in Rome, founding on the expectation of the Christos, the Messiah. In the reign of Claudius, such a movement could not have been made by "Christians" on any view of the history. As the words were pronounced alike they were interchangeably written, Chrestos (preserved in the French chrétien) being used even among the Fathers. Giving to the phrase of Suetonius the only plausible import we can assign to it, we get the datum that among the Jews outside Palestine there was a generalized movement of quasi-revolutionary Christism which cannot well have been without its special literature. (12) In this connection may be noted the appearance of a quasi-impersonal Messianism and Christism on the border-land of Jewish and early Christian literature. Of this, a main source is the Book of Enoch, of which the Messianic sections are now by general consent assigned to the first and second centuries B.C. There the Messiah is called the Just or Righteous One; [231] the Chosen One; [232] Son of Man; [233] the Anointed; [234] and once "Son of the Woman." [235] Here already we have the imagined Divine One more or less concretely represented. He is premundane, and so supernatural, yet not equal with God, being simply God's deputy. [236] When then we find in the so-called Odes of Solomon, recently recovered from an Ethiopic version, a Messianic psalmody in which, apparently in the first Christian century, "the name of the gospel is not found, nor the name of Jesus;" and "not a single saying of Jesus is directly quoted," [237] it is critically inadmissible to pronounce the Odes Christian, especially when a number are admitted to have no Christian characteristics. [238] When, too, the writer admittedly appears to be speaking ex ore Christi, a new doubt is cast on all logia so-called. Such literature, whether or not it be pronounced Gnostic, points to the Gnostic Christism in which the personal Jesus disappears [239] in a series of abstract speculations that exclude all semblance of human personality. All the evidence points for its origination to abstract or general conceptions, not to any actual life or teaching. It spins its doctrinal web from within. (13) And it is not merely on the Jewish side that we have evidence of elements in the early Jesuist movement which derive from sources alien to the gospel record. M. Loisy [240] admits that the hymn of the Naassenes, given by Hippolytus, [241] in which Jesus appeals to the Father to let him descend to earth and reveal the mysteries to men, "has an extraordinary resemblance to the dialogue between the God Ea and his son Marduk in certain Babylonian incantations." [242] He disposes of the problem by claiming that before it can weigh with us "it must be proved that the hymn of the Ophites is anterior to all connection of their sect with Christianity." The implication is that Gnostic syncretism could add Babylonian traits to the Jewish Jesus. But when we find signal marks of a Babylonian connection for the name Jesus in the Apocalypse we cannot thus discount, without further evidence, the Babylonian connection set up by the Naassene hymn. Nor can the defenders of a record which they themselves admit to contain a mass of unhistorical matter claim to have a ground upon which they can dismiss as a copyist's blunder the formula in which in an old magic papyrus Jesus, as Healer, is adjured as "The God of the Hebrews." [243] The very gospel records present the name of Jesus as one of magical power in places where he has not appeared. A strict criticism is bound to admit that the whole question of the pre-Christian vogue of the name Jesus presents an unsolved problem. There are further two quasi-historical Jesuses, one (14) given in the Old Testament, the other (15) in the Talmud, concerning which we can neither affirm nor deny that they were connected with a Jesuine movement before the Christian era. One is the Jesus of Zechariah (iii, 1-8; vi, 11-15); the other is the Jesus Ben Pandira, otherwise Jesus Ben Satda or Stada, of the Talmud. The former, Jesus the High Priest, plays a quasi-Messianic part, being described as "The Branch" and doubly crowned as priest and king. The word for "branch" in Zechariah is tsemach, but this was by the pre-Christian Jews identified with the netzer of Isaiah xi, 1; which for some the early Jesuists would seem to have constituted the explanation of Jesus' cognomen of "Nazarite" or "Nazaræan." [244] The historic significance of the allusions in Zechariah appears to have been wholly lost; and that very circumstance suggests some pre-Christian connection between the name Jesus and a Messianic movement, which the Jewish teachers would be disposed to let slip from history, and the Christists who might know of it would not wish to recall. But the matter remains an enigma. Equally unsolved, thus far, is the problem of the Talmudic Jesus. Ostensibly, there are two; and yet both seem to have been connected, in the Jewish mind, with the Jesus of the gospels. One, Jesus son of Pandira, is recorded to have been stoned to death and then hanged on a tree, for blasphemy or other religious crime, on the eve of a Passover in the reign of Alexander Jannæus (B.C. 106-79). [245] But in the Babylonian Gemara he is identified with a Jesus Ben Sotada or Stada or Sadta or Sidta, who by one rather doubtful clue is put in the period of Rabbi Akiba in the second century C.E. He too is said to have been stoned and hanged on the eve of a Passover, but at Lydda, whereas Ben Pandira is said to have been executed at Jerusalem. Some scholars take the unlikely view that two different Jesuses were thus stoned and hanged on the eve of a Passover: others infer one, whose date has been confused. [246] As Ben Pandira entered into the Jewish anti-Christian tradition, and is posited by the Jew of Celsus in the second century, the presumption is in favour of his date. His mother is in one place named Mariam Magdala = "Mary the nurse" or "hair-dresser"--a quasi-mythical detail. But even supposing him to have been a real personage, whose name may have been connected with a Messianic movement (he is said to have had five disciples), it is impossible to say what share his name may have had in the Jesuine tradition. Our only practicable clues, then, are those of the sects and movements enumerated. It soon becomes clear from a survey of these sects and movements (1) that a cult of a non-divine Jesus, represented by the Hebraic Ebionites, subsisted for a time alongside of one which, also among Jews, made Jesus a supernatural being. Only on the basis of an original rite can such divergences be explained. The Ebionites come before us, in the account of Epiphanius, as using a form of the Gospel of Matthew which lacked the first two chapters (an addition of the second or third century), denying the divinity of Jesus, and rejecting the apostleship of Paul. [247] It is implied that they accepted the story of the Last Supper and the Crucifixion. Here then were Jewish believers in a Hero-Jesus, the Servant of God (as in the Teaching), not a Son of God in any supernatural sense. Ebionism had rigidly restricted the cult to a subordinate form. On the other hand, we have in the Nazarean sect or fraternity a movement which added both directly and indirectly to the Jesuist evolution. In the so-called Primitive Gospel, as expiscated by the school of B. Weiss from the synoptics, there is no mention of Nazareth, and neither the epithet "Nazarene" nor "Nazarite" for Jesus. All three names are wholly absent from the Epistles, as from the Apocalypse: Jesus never has a cognomen after we pass the Acts. The inference is irresistible that first the epithet "Nazarean," and later the story about Nazareth, were additions to a primary cult in which Jesus had no birth-location, any more than he had human parents. I have suggested [248] that the term may have come in from the Hebrew "Netzer" = "the branch," which would have a Messianic meaning for Jews. Professor Smith, who makes a searching study of Hebrew word-elements, has developed a highly important thesis to the effect that the word Nazaraios, "Nazarean," which gives the residual name for the Jesuist sect in the Acts and the predominant name for Jesus in the gospels (apart from Mark, which gives Nazarenos), [249] is not only pre-Christian but old Semitic; that the fundamental meaning of the name (Nosri) is "guard" or "watcher" (= Saviour?), and that the appellation is thus cognate with "Jesus," which signifies Saviour. [250] On the negative side, as against the conventional derivations from Nazareth, the case is very strong. More than fifty years ago, the freethinker Owen Meredith insisted on the lack of evidence that a Galilean village named Nazareth existed before the Christian era. To-day; professional scholarship has acquiesced, to such an extent that Dr. Cheyne [251] and Wellhausen have agreed in deriving the name from the regional name Gennesareth, thus making Nazareth = Galilee; while Professor Burkitt, finding "the ordinary view of Nazareth wholly unproved and unsatisfactory," offers "a desperate conjecture" to the effect that "the city of Joseph and Mary, the patris of Jesus, was Chorazin." [252] In the face of this general surrender, we are doubly entitled to deny that either the appellation for Jesus or the sect-name had anything to do with the place-name Nazareth. [253] That there was a Jewish sect of "Nazaræans" before the Christian era, Professor Smith has clearly shown, may be taken as put beyond doubt by the testimony of Epiphanius, which he exhaustively analyzes. [254] Primitively orthodox, like the Samaritans, and recognizing ostensibly no Bible personages later than Joshua, they appear to have merged in some way with the "Christians," who adopted their name, perhaps turning "Nazaræan" into "Nazorean." My original theory was that the "Nazaræans" were just the "Nazarites" of the Old Testament--men "separated" and "under a vow"; [255] and that the two movements somehow coalesced, the place-name "Nazareth" being finally adopted to conceal the facts. But Professor Smith is convinced, from the evidence of Epiphanius, that between "Nazarites" and "Nazaræans" there was no connection; [256] and for this there is the strong support of the fact that the Jews cursed the Jesuist "Nazoræans" while apparently continuing to recognize the Nazirs or Nazarites. That Professor Smith's derivation of the name may be the correct one, I am well prepared to believe. But it is difficult to connect such a derivation of an important section of the early Jesuist movement with the thesis that Jesuism at its historic outset was essentially a monotheistic crusade. On this side we seem to face an old sect for whom, as for the adherents of the early sacrament, Jesus was a secondary or subordinate divine personage. Standing at an early Hebraic standpoint, the Nazaræans would have no part in the monotheistic universalism of the later prophets. The early Hebrews had believed in a Hebrew God, recognizing that other peoples also had theirs. How or when had the Nazaræans transcended that standpoint? In the absence of any elucidation, the very ably argued thesis of Professor Smith as to the name "Nazaræan" seems broadly out of keeping with the thesis that a monotheistic fervour was a main and primary element in the development of the Christian cult; and that Jesus was conceived by his Jewish devotees in general as "the One God." This would have meant the simple dethroning of Yahweh, a kind of procedure seen only in such myths as that of Zeus and Saturn, where one racial cult superseded another. But the main form of Christianity was always Yahwistic, even when Paul in the Acts is made to proclaim to the Athenians an "unknown God"--an idea really derived from Athens. Only for a few, and these non-Jews, can "the Jesus" originally have been the One God; unless in so far as the use of the name "the Lord" may for some unlettered Jews have identified Jesus with Yahweh, who was so styled. The Ebionites denied his divinity all along. The later Nazareans were Messianists who did not any more than the Jews seem to conceive that the Messiah was Yahweh. The whole doctrine of "the Son" was in conflict with any purely monotheistic idea. Nowhere in the synoptics or the Epistles is the Christ doctrine so stated as really to serve monotheism: the "I and the Father are one" of the fourth gospel is late; and the opening verses of that gospel show tampering, telling of a vacillation as to whether the Logos was God or "with God"--or rather "next to God," in the strict meaning of pros. Here we have a reflex of Alexandrian philosophy, [257] not the evangel of the popular cult. Formally monotheistic the cult always was, even when it had become actually Trinitarian; and all along, doubtless, the particularist monotheism of the Jews was at work against all other God-names in particular and polytheism in general; but that cannot well have been the moving force in a cult which was professedly beginning by establishing an ostensibly new deity, and was ere long to make a trinity. So far as anything can be clearly gathered from the scattered polemic in the Talmud against "the Minim," the standing title for Jewish heretics, including Christians as such, [258] they at least appear not as maintaining the oneness of God but rather as affirming a second Deity, [259] and this as early as the beginning of the second century. That the Jewish Rabbis took this view of their doctrine is explained in terms of the actual theology of the Epistle to the Hebrews. If there was any new doctrine of monotheism bound up with Jesuism, it must have been outside of the Jewish sphere, where the unity of God was the very ground on which Jesuism was resisted. As such, the Jewish Christians did not even repudiate the Jewish law, being expressly aspersed by the Rabbis as secret traitors who professed to be Jews but held alien heresies. [260] I have said that "the Jesus" can have been "the one God" only for non-Jews. Conceivably he may have been so for some Samaritans. There is reason to believe that in the age of the Herods only a minority of the Samaritan people held by Judaism; [261] and there is Christian testimony that in the second century a multitude of them worshipped as the One God Sem or Semo, the Semitic Sun-God whose name is embodied in that of Samson. Justin Martyr, himself a Samaritan, expressly alleges that "almost all the Samaritans, and a few even of other nations" worship and acknowledge as "the first God" Simon, whom he describes as a native of Gitta or Gitton, emerging in the reign of Claudius Cæsar. [262] Justin's gross blunder in identifying a Samaritan of the first century with the Sabine deity Semo Sancus, whose statue he had seen in Rome, [263] is proof that he could believe in the deification of an alien as Supreme God, in his lifetime, in a nation with ancient cults. The thing being impossible, we are left to the datum that Sem or Semo or Sem-on = Great Sem was widely worshipped in Samaria, as elsewhere in the near East. [264] Returning to the subject of "the magician Simon" in his Dialogue with Trypho, [265] Justin there repeats that the Samaritans call him "God above all power, and authority, and might." Remembering that the Jewish Shema, "the Name," is the ordinary appellative for Yahweh, we note possibilities of syncretism as to which we can only speculate. The fact that the Jews actually called their God in general by a word meaning "Name" and also equating with the commonest Semitic name for the Sun-God, while in their sacred books they professedly transmuted the sacred name (altering the consonants) to Adonai = Lord ("plural of majesty"), the name of the Syrian God Adonis, is a circumstance that has never been much considered by hierologists. It suggests that the Samaritan Sem also may have been "known" by other names; and the certain fact of the special commemoration of Joshua among the Samaritan Judaists gives another ground for speculation. The words of Jesus to the Samaritan woman in the fourth gospel, "Ye worship ye know not what," seem to signify that from the Alexandrian-Jewish standpoint Samaritans worshipped a name only. What does emerge clearly is that Samaria played a considerable part in the beginnings of Christism. In a curious passage of the fourth gospel (viii, 48) the Jews say to Jesus, "Say we not well that thou art a Samaritan, and hast a daimon?": and he answers with a denial that he has a daimon, but makes no answer on the other charge. The fact that Matthew makes the Founder expressly forbid his disciples to enter any city of the Samaritans, while an interpolator of Luke [266] introduces the story of the good Samaritan to counteract the doctrine, tells that there was a sunderance between Samaritan and Judaizing Christists just as there was between the Judaizers and the Gentilizers in general. From Samaria, then, came part of the impulse to the whole Gentilizing movement; and the Samaritan Justin shows the anti-Judaic animus clearly enough. That Samaritan Jesuism, then, may early have outgone the Pauline in making Jesus "the One God," in rivalry to the Jewish Yahweh, is a recognizable possibility. But still we do not reach the conception of a zealously monotheistic cult, relying specially on a polemic of monotheism. Justin fights for monotheism as against paganism, but on the ordinary Judaic-Christian basis. This is a later polemic stage. Nor does the thesis of a new monotheism seem at all essential to the rest of Professor Smith's conception of the emergence of Jesuism. He agrees that it exfoliated from a scattered cult of secret mysteries: the notion, then, that it was at the time of its open emergence primarily a gospel of One God, and that God Jesus, is ostensibly in excess of the first hypothesis. It is also somewhat incongruous with the acceptance of the historic fact that it spread as a popular religion, in a world which desired Saviour Gods. [267] Saviour Gods abounded in polytheism; the very conception is primarily polytheistic; and all we know of the cast and calibre of the early converts in general is incompatible with the notion of them as zealous for an abstract and philosophical conception of deity. Whether we take the epistles to the Corinthians as genuine or as pseudepigraphic, they are clearly addressed to a simple-minded community, not given to monotheistic idealism, and indeed incapable of it. In positing, further, a rapid "triumph" of Christism in virtue of its monotheism, Professor Smith seems to me to outgo somewhat the historical facts. There is really no evidence for any rapid triumph. Renan, after accepting as history the pentecostal dithyramb of the Acts, came to see that no such quasi-miraculous spread of the faith ever took place; and that the Pauline epistles all presuppose not great churches but "little Bethels," or rather private conventicles, scattered through the Eastern Empire. [268] He justifiably doubted whether Paul's converts, all told, amounted to over a thousand persons. At a much later period, sixty years after Constantine's adoption of the faith, the then ancient church of Antioch, the city where first the Jesuists "were called Christians," numbered only about a fifth part of the population. [269] "At the end of the second century, probably not a hundredth part even of the central provinces of the Roman Empire was Christianized, while the outlying provinces were practically unaffected." Rather we seem bound to infer that Christianity made headway by assimilating pagan ideas and usages on a basis of Judaic organization. It is ultimately organization that conserves cults; and the vital factor in the Christian case is the adaptation of the model set by the Jewish synagogues and their central supervision. Of course even organization cannot avert brute conquest; and the organized pagan cults in the towns of the Empire went down ultimately before Christian violence as the Christian went down before violence in Persia in the age of the Sassanides. But Christian organization, improving upon Jewish, with no adequate rivalry on the pagan side, developed the situation in which Constantine saw fit to imperialize the cultus, as the one best fitted to become that of the State. How then did the organization begin and grow? The data point insistently to a special group in Jerusalem; and behind the myth of the gospels we have historical and documentary ground for a hypothesis which can account for that as for the other myth-elements. § 2. The Silence of Josephus When we are considering the possibilities of underlying historical elements in the gospel story, it may be well to note on the one hand the entirely negative aspect of the works of Josephus to that story, and on the other hand the emergence in his writings of personages bearing the name Jesus. If the defenders of the historicity of the gospel Jesus would really stand by Josephus as a historian of Jewry in the first Christian century, they would have to admit that he is the most destructive of all the witnesses against them. It is not merely that the famous interpolated passage [270] is flagrantly spurious in every aspect--in its impossible context; its impossible language of semi-worship; its "He was (the) Christ"; its assertion of the resurrection; and its allusion to "ten thousand other wonderful things" of which the historian gives no other hint--but that the flagrant interpolation brings into deadly relief the absence of all mention of the crucified Jesus and his sect where mention must have been made by the historian if they had existed. If, to say nothing of "ten thousand wonderful things," there was any movement of a Jesus of Nazareth with twelve disciples in the period of Pilate, how came the historian to ignore it utterly? If, to say nothing of the resurrection story, Jesus had been crucified by Pilate, how came it that there is no hint of such an episode in connection with Josephus' account of the Samaritan tumult in the next chapter? And if a belief in Jesus as a slain and returning Messiah had been long on foot before the fall of the Temple, how comes it that Josephus says nothing of it in connection with his full account of the expectation of a coming Messiah at that point? By every test of loyal historiography, we are not merely forced to reject the spurious passage as the most obvious interpolation in all literature: we are bound to confess that the "Silence of Josephus," as is insisted by Professor Smith, [271] is an insurmountable negation of the gospel story. For that silence, no tenable reason can be given, on the assumption of the general historicity of the gospels and Acts. Josephus declares himself [272] to be in his fifty-sixth year in the thirteenth year of Domitian. Then he was born about the year 38. By his own account, [273] he began at the age of sixteen to "make trial of the several sects that were among us"--the Pharisees, the Sadducees, and the Essenes--and in particular he spent three years with a hermit of the desert named Banos, who wore no clothing save what grew on trees, used none save wild food, and bathed himself daily and nightly for purity's sake. Thereafter he returned to Jerusalem, and conformed to the sect of the Pharisees. In the Antiquities, [274] after describing in detail the three sects before named, he gives an account of a fourth "sect of Jewish philosophy," founded by Judas the Galilean, whose adherents in general agree with the Pharisees, but are specially devoted to liberty and declare God to be their only ruler, facing torture and death rather than call any man lord. A careful criticism will recognize a difficulty as to this section. In § 2, as in the Life, "three sects" are specified; and the concluding section has the air of a late addition. Seeing, however, that the sect of Judas is stated to have begun to give trouble in the procuratorship of Gessius Florus, when Josephus was in his twenties, it is quite intelligible that he should say nothing of it when naming the sects who existed in his boyhood, and that he should treat it in a subsidiary way in his fuller account of them in the Antiquities. It is not so clear why he should in the first section of that chapter call Judas "a Gaulanite, of a city whose name was Gamala," and in the final section call him "Judas the Galilean." There was a Gamala in Gaulanitis and another in Galilee. But the discrepancy is soluble on the view that the sixth section was added some time after the composition of the book. There seems no adequate ground for counting it spurious. On what theory, then, are we to explain the total silence of Josephus as to the existence of the sect of Jesus of Nazareth, if there be any historical truth in the gospel story? It is of no avail to suggest that he would ignore it by reason of his Judaic hostility to Christism. He is hostile to the sect of Judas the Galilean. There is nothing in all his work to suggest that he would have omitted to name any noticeable sect with a definite and outstanding doctrine because he disliked it. He seems much more likely, in that case, to have described and disparaged or denounced it. And here emerges the hypothesis that he did disparage or denounce the Christian sect in some passage which has been deleted by Christian copyists, perhaps in the very place now filled by the spurious paragraph, where an account of Jesuism as a calamity to Judaism would have been relevant in the context. This suggestion is nearly as plausible as that of Chwolson, who would reckon the existing paragraph a description of a Jewish calamity, is absurd. And it is the possibility of this hypothesis that alone averts an absolute verdict of non-historicity against the gospel story in terms of the silence of Josephus. The biographical school may take refuge, at this point, in the claim that the Christian forger, whose passage was clearly unknown to Origen, perhaps eliminated by his fraud a historic testimony to the historicity of Jesus, and also an account of the sect of Nazaræans. But that is all that can be claimed. The fact remains that in the Life, telling of his youthful search for a satisfactory sect, Josephus says not a word of the existence of that of the crucified Jesus; that he nowhere breathes a word concerning the twelve apostles, or any of them, or of Paul; and that there is no hint in any of the Fathers of even a hostile account of Jesus by him in any of his works, though Origen makes much of the allusion to James the Just, [275]--also dismissible as an interpolation, like another to the same effect cited by Origen, but not now extant. [276] There is therefore a strong negative presumption to be set against even the forlorn hypothesis that the passage forged in Josephus by a Christian scribe ousted one which gave a hostile testimony. Over a generation ago, Mr. George Solomon of Kingston, Jamaica, noting the general incompatibility of Josephus with the gospel story and the unhistorical aspect of the latter, constructed an interesting theory, [277] of which I have seen no discussion, but which merits notice here. It may be summarized thus:-- 1. Banos is probably the historical original of the gospel figure of John the Baptist. 2. Josephus names and describes two Jesuses, who are blended in the figure of the gospel Jesus: (a) the Jesus (Wars, VI, v, 3) who predicts "woe to Jerusalem"; is flogged till his bones show, but never utters a cry; makes no reply when challenged; returns neither thanks for kindness nor railing for railing; and is finally killed by a stone projectile in the siege; and (b) Jesus the Galilean (Life, §§ 12, 27), son of Sapphias, who opposes Josephus, is associated with Simon and John, and has a following of "sailors and poor people," one of whom betrays him (§ 22), whereupon he is captured by a stratagem, his immediate followers forsaking him and flying. [278] Before this point, Josephus has taken seventy of the Galileans with him (§ 14) as hostages, and, making them his friends and companions on his journey, sets them "to judge causes." This is the hint for Luke's story of the seventy disciples. 3. The "historical Jesus" of the siege, who is "meek" and venerated as a prophet and martyr, being combined with the "Mosaic Jesus" of Galilee, a disciple of Judas of Galilee, who resisted the Roman rule and helped to precipitate the war, the memory of the "sect" of Judas the Gaulanite or Galilean, who began the anti-Roman trouble, is also transmuted into a myth of a sect of Jesus of Galilee, who has fishermen for disciples, is followed by poor Galileans, is betrayed by one companion and deserted by the rest, and is represented finally as dying under Pontius Pilate, though at that time there had been no Jesuine movement. 4. The Christian movement, thus mythically grounded, grows up after the fall of the Temple. Paul's "the wrath is come upon them to the uttermost" (1 Thess. ii, 16) tells of the destruction of the Temple, as does Hebrews xii, 24-28; xiii, 12-14. This theory of the construction of the myth out of historical elements in Josephus is obviously speculative in a high degree; and as the construction fails to account for either the central rite or the central myth of the crucifixion it must be pronounced inadequate to the data. On the other hand, the author developes the negative case from the silence of Josephus as to the gospel Jesus with an irresistible force; and though none of his solutions is founded-on in the constructive theory now elaborated, it may be that some of them are partly valid. The fact that he confuses Jesus the robber captain who was betrayed, and whose companions deserted him, with Jesus the "Mosaic" magistrate of Tiberias, who was followed by sailors and poor people, and was "an innovator beyond everybody else," does not exclude the argument that traits of one or the other, or of the Jesus of the siege, may have entered into the gospel mosaic. § 3. The Myth of the Twelve Apostles All careful investigators have been perplexed by the manner of the introduction of "the Twelve" in the gospels; and they would have been still more so if they had realized the total absence of any reason in the texts for the creation of disciples or apostles at all. Disciples to learn--what? Apostles to teach--what? The choosing is as plainly mythical as the function. In Mark (i, 16) and Matthew (iv, 18), Jesus calls upon the brothers Simon and Andrew to leave their fishing and "become fishers of men." They come at the word; and immediately afterwards the brothers James and John do the same. There is no pretence of previous teaching: it is the act of the God. [279] In Matthew, at the calling of the apostle Matthew (ix, 9), who in Mark (ii, 14) becomes Levi the son of Alphæus, the procedure is the same: "Follow me." Then, with no connective development whatever, we proceed at one stroke to the full number. [280] Matthew actually makes the mission of the twelve the point of choosing, saying simply (x, 1): "And he called unto him his twelve disciples," adding their names. In Mark (iii, 13) we have constructive myth:-- And he goeth up into the mountain, and calleth unto him whom he himself would: and they went unto him. And he appointed twelve, that they might be with him, and that he might send them forth to preach, and to have authority to cast out devils. And the lists converge. Levi has now disappeared from Mark's record, and we have instead "James the son of Alphæus," but with Matthew in also. The lists of the first two synoptics have been harmonized. In Luke, where only three are at first called, after a miracle (v, 1-11), the twelve are also summarily chosen on a mountain; and here the list varies: Levi, who has been separately called (v, 27) as in Mark, disappears here also in favour of "James of Alphæus"; but there is no Thaddæus, and there are two Judases, one being "of James," which may mean either son or brother. And this Judas remains on the list in the Acts. Candid criticism cannot affirm that we have here the semblance of veridical biography. The calling of the twelve has been imposed upon an earlier narrative, with an arbitrary list, which is later varied. The calling of the fishermen, to begin with, is a symbolical act, as is the calling of a tax-gatherer. The calling of the twelve is a more complicated matter. In searching for the roots of a pre-Christian Jesus-cult in Palestine, we have noted the probability that it centred in a rite of twelve participants, with the "Anointed One," the representative of the God, and anciently the actual victim, as celebrating priest. The Anointed One is "the Christ"; and the Christ, on the hypothesis, is Jesus Son of the Father. The twelve, as in the case of the early Jesus-cult at Ephesus, form as it were "the Church." A body of twelve, then, who might term themselves "Brethren of the Lord," may well have been one of the starting-points of Jewish Jesuism. But the first two synoptics, clearly, started with a group of only four disciples, to which a fifth was added; and in John (i, 35-49) the five are made up at once, in a still more supernatural manner than in the synoptics, two being taken from the following of John the Baptist. Then, still more abruptly than in the synoptics, we have the completion (vi, 70):--"Did not I choose you the twelve, and one of you is a devil?" It would be idle to say merely that the twelve are suddenly imposed on the narrative, leaving a biographical five: the five are just as evidently given unhistorically, for some special reason, mythical or other. Now, though fives and fours and threes are all quasi-sacred numbers in the Old Testament, it is noteworthy that in one of the Talmudic allusions to Jesus Ben-Stada he is declared to have had five disciples--Matthai, Nakai or Neqai, Nezer or Netzer, Boni or Buni, and also Thoda, all of whom are ostensibly though not explicitly described as having been put to death. [281] As this passage points to the Jesus who is otherwise indicated as post-Christian, it cannot critically be taken as other than a reference to a current Christian list of five, though it may conceivably have been a miscarrying reference to the Jesus of the reign of Alexander Jannæus. In any case, it is aimed at a set of five; and there is never any Talmudic mention of a twelve. If, then, the Talmudic passage was framed by way of a stroke against the Christians it must have been made at a time when the list of twelve had not been imposed on the gospels. Further, it is to be noted that it provides for a Matthew, and perhaps for a "Mark," the name "Nakai" being put next to Matthew's; while in Boni and Netzer we have ostensible founders for the Ebionites and Nazaræans. Finally, Thoda looks like the native form of Thaddæus; though it might perhaps stand for the Theudas of Acts v, 36. Seeing how names are juggled with in the official list and in the MS. variants ("Lebbæus whose surname was Thaddæus" stood in the Authorised Version, on the strength of the Codex Bezae), it cannot be argued that the Gemara list is not possibly an early form or basis of that in the synoptics; though on the other hand the names Boni and Netzer suggest a mythopoeic origin for Ebionites and Nazarenes. Leaving this issue aside as part of the unsolved problem of the Talmudic Jesus, we are again driven to note the unhistoric apparition of the twelve. Following the documents, we find the later traces equally unveridical. Matthew is introduced in the Acts as being chosen to make up the number of the twelve, on the death of Judas; but never again is such a process mentioned; and Matthew plays no part in the further narrative. And of course the cult was interdicted from further maintenance of the number as soon as it was settled that the twelve were to sit on twelve thrones judging the twelve tribes of Israel, which had apparently been done in an early Judaic form of the Apocalypse before it was intimated in the gospels. Even in the Epistles, however, there is no real trace of an active group of twelve. The number is mentioned only in a passage (1 Cor. xv, 5) where there is interpolation upon interpolation, for after the statement that the risen Jesus appeared "then to the twelve" there shortly follows "then to all the apostles," that is, on the traditionist assumption, to the twelve again--the exclusion of Judas not being recognized. The first-cited clause could be interpolated in order to insert the number; the second could not have been inserted if the other were already there. That is the sole allusion. We find none where we might above all expect it, in the pseudo-biographical epistle to the Galatians, though there is mention in the opening chapter of "them which were apostles before me," "the apostles," "James the brother of the Lord" (never mentioned as an apostle in the gospels unless he be James the son of Alphæus or James the son of Zebedee: that is, not a brother of Jesus but simply a group-brother), and "James and Cephas and John, who were [or are] reputed to be pillars." The language used in verse 6 excludes the notion that the writer believed "the apostles" to have had personal intercourse with the Founder. Thus even in a pseudepigraphic work, composed after Paul's time, there is no suggestion that he had to deal with the twelve posited by the gospels and the Acts. And all the while "apostles" without number continue to figure in the documents. They were in fact a numerous class in the early Church. It is not surprising that the late Professor Cheyne not only rejected the story of the Betrayal but declared that "The 'Twelve Apostles,' too, are to me as unhistorical as the seventy disciples." [282] On the other hand, we have a decisive reason for the invention of the Twelve story in the latterly recovered Teaching of the Twelve Apostles [283] (commonly cited as the Didachê), a document long current in the early church. Of that book, the first six chapters, forming nearly half of the matter, are purely ethical and monotheistic, developing the old formula of the "Two Ways" of life and death; and saying nothing of Jesus or Christ or the Son, or of baptism or sacrament. Then comes a palpably late interpolation, giving a formula for baptism in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Even in the ninth section, dealing with the Eucharist, we have only "the holy vine of David thy Servant, which thou hast made known to us through Jesus thy Servant." [284] The tenth, which is evidently later, and is written as a conclusion, retains that formula. After that come warnings against false apostles and prophets; and only in the twelfth section does the word "Christian" occur. Still later there is specified "the Lord's-day (kyriakên) of the Lord." Then comes a prescription for the election of bishops; and the document ends with a chapter preparing for the expected "last days." Here then we have an originally Jewish document, bearing the title Teaching of the Twelve Apostles, adopted and gradually added to by early Jesuists who did not deify Jesus, though like the early Christians in general they expected the speedy end of the world. Though their Jesus is not deified, he has no cognomen. He is neither "of Nazareth," nor "the Nazarite;" and he is an ostensibly mythical figure, not a teacher but a rite-founder, for his adherents. They do not belong to an organized Church; and the baptismal section, with its Trinitarian formula, is quite certainly one of the latest of all. The eighth, which connects quite naturally with the sixth, and which contains the "Lord's Prayer," raises the question whether it belonged to the pre-Christian document, and has been merely interpolated with the phrase as to "the Lord ... his gospel." There are strong reasons for regarding the Lord's Prayer as a pre-Christian Jewish composition, [285] founded on very ancient Semitic prayers. Seeing that "the Lord" has in all the previous sections of the treatise clearly meant "God" and not "Christ," the passage about the gospel is probably Jesuist; but it does not at all follow that the Prayer is. Mr. Cassels, in the section on the Teaching added by him in the one-volume reprint of his great work, points [286] to the fact that in the recovered fragment of a Latin translation of an early version of "The Two Ways," there do not occur the passages connecting with the Sermon on the Mount which are found in the Teaching; and as the same holds of the Two Ways section of the Epistle of Barnabas, it may fairly be argued that it was a Christian hand that added them here. But when we note that at the points at which the passages in the Teaching vary from the gospel--as "Gentiles" for "tax-gatherers," [287]--the term in the former is perfectly natural for Jewish teachers addressing Jews in Gentile countries, and that in the latter rather strained in an exhortation to Jews in their own country, it becomes very conceivable that this is the original, or a prior form, of the gospel passage. The Sermon on the Mount is certainly a compilation. This then may have been one of the sources. And it is quite conceivable that the Jewish Apostles should teach their people not to pray "as do the hypocrites," an expression which Mr. Cassels takes to be directed by Jesuists against Jews in general. Seeing that even conservative critics have admitted the probable priority of the Teaching to Barnabas, it is no straining of the probabilities to suggest that the Two Ways section of Barnabas is either a variant, inspired by the Teaching, on what was clearly a very popular line of homily, [288] or an annexation of another Jewish homily of that kind. That in the Teaching is distinctly the better piece of work, as we should expect the official manual of the Apostles of the High Priest to be. It is inexact to say, as does Dr. M. R. James, [289] that the section "reappears" in Barnabas. There are many differences, as well as many identities. The other is not a mere copy, but an exercise on the same standard theme, with "light and darkness" for the stronger "life and death." It is a mistake to suppose that there was a definite "original" of "The Two Ways": it is a standing ethical theme, evidently handled by many. [290] If, then, the Teaching preceded Barnabas, it may already have contained, in its purely Jewish form, the Lord's Prayer, which is so thoroughly Jewish, and items of the Sermon on the Mount, which is certainly a Jewish compilation. And the justified critical presumption is that it did contain them. The onus of disproof lies on the Christian side. We now reach our solution. The original document was in any case a manual of teaching used among the scattered Jews and proselytes of the Dispersion by the actual and historical Twelve Apostles either of the High Priest before or of the Patriarch after the fall of Jerusalem. The historic existence of that body before and after the catastrophe is undisputed; [291] and the nature of its teaching functions can be confidently inferred from the known currency of a Judaic ethical teaching in the early Christian period. The demonstration of that is supplied by an expert of the biographical school who considers the Teaching to have been "known to Jesus and the Baptist." [292] Such a document cannot rationally be supposed to be a compilation made by or for Christists using the gospels: such a compilation would have given the gospel view of Jesus. [293] The primary Teaching, including as it probably does the Lord's Prayer, is the earlier thing: the gospels use it. It is in fact one of the first documents of "Christianity," if not the first. And its titular "twelve apostles" are Jewish and not Christian. Given, then, such a document in the hands of the early Jesuist organization--or one of the organizations--twelve apostles had to be provided in the legend to take the credit for the Teaching. [294] The new cult, once it was shaped to the end of superseding the old, had to provide itself to that extent, by myth, with the same machinery. No step in the myth-theory is better established than this; and no non-miraculous item in the legend is more recalcitrant than the twelve story to the assumptions of the biographical school. The gospel list of the twelve is one of the most unmanageable things in the record. In a narrative destitute of detail where detail is most called for, we get a list of names, most of which count for nothing in the later history, to give a semblance of actuality to an invented institution. We have clearly unhistorical detail as to five, no detail whatever as to further accessions, and then a body of twelve suddenly constituted. For some of us, the discovery of the Teaching was a definite point of departure in the progression toward the myth-theory; and it supplies us with the firmest starting-point for our theoretic construction of the process by which the organized Christian Church took shape. § 4. The Process of Propaganda On the view here taken, there was at Jerusalem, at some time in the first century, a small group of Jesuist "apostles" among whom the chief may have been named James, John, and Cephas. They may have been members of a ritual group of twelve, who may have styled themselves Brothers of the Lord; but that group in no way answered to the Twelve of the gospels. Of the apostle class the number was indefinite. Besides the apostles, further, there would seem to have been an indefinite number of "prophets," indicative of a cult of somewhat long standing. The adherents believed in a non-historic Jesus, the "Servant" of the Jewish God, somehow evolved out of the remote Jesus-God who is reduced to human status in the Old Testament as Joshua. And their central secret rite consisted in a symbolic sacrament, evolved out of an ancient sacrament of human sacrifice, in which the victim had been the representative of the God, sacrificed to the God, in the fashion of a hundred primitive cults. This rite had within living memory, if not still at the time from which we start, been accompanied by an annual popular rite in which a selected person--probably a criminal released for the purpose--was treated as a temporary king, then derided, and then either in mock show or in actual fact executed, under the name of Jesus Barabbas, "the Son of the Father." Of this ancient cult there were inferribly many scattered centres outside of Judea, including probably some in Samaria, the special region of the celebration of the Hero-God Joshua. There was one such group in Ephesus; and probably another at Alexandria, and another at Antioch; Jews of the Dispersion having possibly taken the cult with them. But the cult outside Jewry may have had non-Jewish roots, though it merged with Jewish elements. So long as the Temple at Jerusalem lasted, the small cult counted for very little; and it was probably after the fall of Jerusalem [295] that its leaders added to their machinery the rite of baptism, which the synoptic gospels treat as a specialty of the movement of John the Baptist. Him they represent as a "forerunner" of the Christ, who under divine inspiration recognizes the Messianic claims of Jesus. All this is plainly unhistorical, even on the assumption of the historicity of Jesus. [296] Whatever may be the historic facts as to John the Baptist, who is a very dubious figure, [297] the marked divergence between the synoptics and the fourth gospel on the subject of baptism [298] show that that rite was not originally Jesuist, but was adopted by the Jesuists as a means of popular appeal. The recognition of this fact is a test of the critical good faith of those who profess to found on the synoptics for a history of the beginnings of the Jesuist cult. Canon Robinson [299] treats as unquestionably historical one of the contradictory statements in John iv, 1-2, of which the first affirms that Jesus baptized abundantly, while the second, an evidently interpolated parenthesis, asserts that only the disciples baptized, not Jesus. Though this interpolation hinges on the first dictum, the Canon accepts it to the exclusion of that, its basis. But the original writer could not have put the proposition thus had he believed it. What he affirmed was abundant baptizing by Jesus. Of this, however, the synoptics have no more hint than they have of baptizing by the disciples. On any possible view of the composition of the synoptics, it is inconceivable that they should omit all mention of baptizing by Jesus or the disciples if such a practice was affirmed in the early tradition. For them baptism is the institution of the Forerunner, who is mythically represented as hailing in Jesus his successor or supersessor, with no suggestion of a continuance of the rite. If there is to be any critical consistency in the biographical argument, it must at least recognize that baptism is non-Jesuine. The embodiment of the rite of baptism on the basis of the Baptist's alleged acclamation of Jesus as the Messiah, either carried with it or followed upon the claim that Jesus, hitherto regarded as a simple Saviour-God, was a Messiah. After the fall of Jerusalem, the old dream of an earthly Messiah who should restore the Kingdom of Judah or Israel [300] was shattered for the vast majority of Jews. Even in the Assumption of Moses, in the main the work of a Quietist Pharisee, written in Hebrew probably between 7 and 29 of the first century, [301] there is a virtual abandonment of Messianism, the task of overthrowing the Gentiles being assigned to "the Most High." [302] In the composite Apocalypse of Baruch, written in Hebrew, mainly by Pharisaic Jews, in the latter half of the first century, probably as an implicit polemic against early Jesuism, [303] we see the effect of the catastrophe. In the sections written before the fall of Jerusalem, the hope of a Messianic Kingdom is proclaimed; in those written later there is either at most a hope of a Messianic Kingdom without a Messiah or a complete abandonment of mundane expectations. [304] What the Jesuist movement did was to develop, outside of Jewry, [305] the earlier notion of a Messiah "concealed," pre-appointed, and coming from heaven to effect the consummation of all things earthly. [306] Such Messianism may have either preceded or proceeded-on an adoption of the rite of baptism. Given a resort to Messianism by the Jesuists after the fall of Jerusalem, the alleged testimony of the Baptist to Jesus as the Appointed One might be the first step; and the resort to the baptismal rite would follow on the myth that Jesus had been actually baptized by John. In Acts, i, 5, Jesus is in effect made to represent John's baptism with water as superseded by a baptism in the Holy Ghost. [307] In the Pauline epistles we have trace of a conflict over this as over other Judaic practices, Paul being made to declare (1 Cor. i, 17) that "Christ sent me not to baptize but to preach the gospel," though he admits having baptized a few. [308] All that is clear is that the Jesuists were not primarily baptizers; that they began to baptize "in the name of Jesus Christ," [309] with a formula of the Holy Ghost and fire, but really in the traditional manner with water; and that long afterwards they feigned that the Founder had prescribed baptism with a trinitarian formula. [310] Thus far, the local movement was not only Jewish but Judaic. It may or may not have been before the fall of Jerusalem that a Jesuist "apostle" named Paul conceived the idea of creating by propaganda a new Judæo-Jesuist movement appealing to Gentiles. Such an idea is not the invention of Paul or any other Jesuist; the idea of a Messianic Kingdom in which the Gentiles should be saved is found in the Jewish Testaments of the Twelve Patriarchs, written in Hebrew by a Pharisee between the years 109 and 106 B.C. [311] But, thus made current, it might well be adopted by Jesuists. The reason for supposing this to have begun before the year 70 is not merely the tradition to that effect but the fact that in none of the epistles do we have any trace of that "gospel of the Kingdom" which in the synoptics is posited as the evangel of Jesus. That evangel, which is a simple duplication of the alleged evangel of the Baptist, and which we have seen to be wholly mythical, being devoid of possible historic content, [312] is part of the apparatus of the retrospective Messianic claim. But the Pauline Epistles, even as they show no knowledge of the name Nazareth, or Nazaræan, or Nazarene, or of any gospel teaching, also show no concern over a "gospel of the Kingdom." Whether or not, then, they are wholly pseudepigraphic, they suggest that a Paulinism of some kind was an early feature in the Jesuist evolution. According to the Acts, Paul's name was originally Saul, though no such avowal is ever made in the epistles. The purpose of the statement seems to be to strengthen the case as to his Jewish nationality, which is affirmed in the epistles, as is the item that he had been a murderous persecutor of the early Jesuists. All this suggests a late manipulation of the traditions of an early strife. To claim that the Gentilizing apostle had been a Jew born and bred would be as natural on the Gentilizing side as to allege that the typically Judaic Peter had denied his Lord; while the charge of persecuting the infant church would be a not less natural invention of the Judaic Christians who accepted the tradition that Paul had been a Pharisee and a pupil of Gamaliel. In point of fact we find the Ebionites, the typical Judaic Jesuists, knowing him simply as "Paul of Tarsus" in their version of the Acts or in a previous document upon which that founded. [313] And many Jewish scholars have declared that they cannot conceive the Pauline epistles to have been written by a Rabbinically trained Jew. [314] This does not preclude the possibility that the original Paul, of whose "few very short epistles" personally penned [315] we have probably nothing left that is identifiable, [316] may have been such a Jew, but the presumption is to the contrary. On the face of the case, nothing was more natural than that the Jesuist movement should appeal to civilized Gentiles. Judaism itself did so, striving much after proselytes. The question was whether the Jesuist proselytes should be made on a strictly Judaic basis. Now, even if the fall of Jerusalem had not given the impetus to a severance of the cult from the dominating religion, the sacred domicile being gone, it is obvious that an abandonment of such a Jewish bar as circumcision would give the developing cult a great advantage over the other in propaganda among Gentiles. Circumcision must have been a highly repellent detail for Hellenistic Gentiles in general; and a gospel which dispensed with it would have a new chance of making headway. And such a severance certainly took place, though we can put no reliance on the chronology of the Acts. [317] Paul [318] remains a doubtfully dated figure, because the chronology of the whole cult is problematic. But we can broadly distinguish between a "Petrine" and a "Pauline" Christism. In the Acts (ii, 22-40), which clearly embodies earlier lore, prior to that of the gospels, the Jesus Christ preached by Peter is not represented as a saving sacrifice. As little is he a Teacher, though he is a doer of "mighty works and wonders and signs." If we were to apply the biographical method, the presentment might be held to indicate the Talmudic Jesus. Only after his resurrection "God hath made him both Lord and Christ"--that is, Messiah; and the Jewish hearers are invited to "repent" and be "baptized ... in the name of Jesus Christ unto the remission of your sins." Peter's Jesus, like him of the Teaching, is the "Servant" of God, not his Son. And there is no mention of a sacrament, though there is noted a "breaking of bread at home" (42, 46) recalling the "broken" (bread) of the Didachê. The sacrament, then, was apparently a secret rite for the Jewish group. The speeches, of course, are quite unhistorical: we can but take them as embodying a traditional "Petrine" teaching with later matter. Thus we have baptism figuring as a Jesuist rite, whereas in the synoptics, as we have seen, there had been no such thing. The story of Peter being brought to the pro-Gentile view is pure ecclesiastical myth, probably posterior to the Pauline epistles, which are ignored but counteracted in so far as they posit strife between Pauline and Petrine propaganda. Peter and Paul alike are made to teach that "it behoved the Christ to suffer" (iii, 18; xvii, 3), even as they duplicate their miracles, their escapes, and their sufferings. But while Peter is pretended to have accepted Gentilism, it is Paul who acts on the principle; and he it is who is first represented as fighting pagan polytheism, notably at Ephesus (xix, 26). At Athens, in a plainly fictitious speech, he is made to expound the "unknown God" of an Athenian agnostic cult in terms of Jewish opposition to image-worship, indicating Jesus merely as "a man" raised by God from the dead to judge the world at the judgment day. It is after this episode that he is made to tell the Jews of Corinth he will "henceforth go unto the Gentiles." Nevertheless he is made to go on preaching to the Jews. The narrative as a whole is plainly factitious: all we can hope to do is to detect some of its historic data. Two things must be kept clearly and constantly in view: first, that what we understand by a literary and a historical conscience simply did not exist in the early Christian environment; second, that in all probability the Acts, which to start with would be a blend of tradition and fiction, is much manipulated during a long period. We are not entitled to assume that an "original" writer duplicated the careers of Peter and Paul for purposes of edification. One or more may have wrought one narrative, and a later hand or hands may have systematically interpolated the other. [319] We are to remember further that it was an age in which most Christians, assimilating the eschatology of the Persians and the Jews--the spontaneous dream of crushed peoples--expected the speedy end of the world, and did their thinking on that basis. In such a state of mind, critical thought could not exist save as a small element in religious polemic. Let us then see what we reach on the hypothesis that early Jesuism even in the first century, and possibly even before the fall of Jerusalem, was running in two different channels--one movement adhering to Jewish usage, making Jesus the Servant of God, and conceiving him as a God-gifted Healer whose death raised him to the status of the Messiah, the promised Christ or Anointed One who should either close the earthly scene or bring about a new God-ruled era for the Jews. For the holders of this view, the Kingdom of God was coming. Jesus was ere long to come in the clouds in great glory and inaugurate the new life. To ask for clear conceptions on such a matter from such minds would be idle. There were none. The one idea connected with the mythical evangel was that Jews should repent and prepare for the new life. To that elusive minimum the latest biographical analysis, assuming the historicity, reduces the "ministry" of the gospel Jesus. [320] The rest is all post-apostolic accretion. On the other hand, the Petrine Jesus has proved his mission for his devotees, first and last, by miracles, and by his resurrection--things which the biographical school rejects as imaginary. Upon this movement there enters an innovator, Paul of Tarsus. Round him, as round Peter, there are clouds of myth. That he was originally Saul, a Pharisee, a pupil of Gamaliel; that he began as a bitter persecutor of the Jesuists; and that he was converted by a supernatural vision, become common data for the church. That the charge of persecution was a Judaic figment, on the other hand, is perhaps as likely as that the story of Peter's denial of his Master was a Gentile figment. We are in a world of purposive fiction. But the broad divergence of doctrine seems to underlie all the fables. Saul, on the later view, changes his Jewish name to the Grecian Paul when he plans to make the Jesus-cult non-Jewish, using the tactic of monotheism against pagan polytheism in general, in the very act of adding a Son-God to the Jewish Father-God, as so many Son-Gods had been added to Father-Gods throughout religious history. To the early Jewish Jesuists, the notion of the Son had been given by the old cult of sacrifice, with its Jesus the Son--an idea obscurely but certainly present, as we have seen, in the lore of the Talmudists. Clearly it was the Pauline movement that made of Christism a "viable" world religion. As an unorganized Saviour-cult it would have died out like others. As a phase of Judaism, it could have had no Jewish permanence, simply because its Messianism was a matter of looking daily for an "end of the world" that did not come. After two centuries of waiting, the Jews would have had as clear a right to pronounce Jesus a "false Messiah" as they had in the case of Barcochab or any other before or since. The mere belief in a future life, at one time excluded from their Sacred Books, had become the common faith, only the aristocratic Sadducees (probably not all of them) rejecting it. On that side, Jesuism gave them nothing. Well might Paul "turn to the Gentiles"--albeit not under the circumstances theologically imagined for him in the book of Acts. Even for the Gentiles, Jesuism was but one of many competing cults, offering similar attractions. In the religions of Adonis, Attis, Isis and Osiris, Dionysos, Mithra, and the Syrian Marnas ("the Lord, a variant of Adonis = Adonai, one of the Jews' exoteric names for Yahweh"), a resplendent ever-youthful God who had died to rise again was sacramentally adored, mourned for, and rejoiced over, by devotees just as absorbed in their faith as were the Jesuists. With vague pretences of biographical knowledge, to which nobody now attaches any credence, they were as sure of the historicity of their Vegetation-Gods and Sun-Gods as the Christists were of the actuality of theirs. Had a Frazer of the second century told them that their Adonis and Attis were but abstractions of the annual sacrificial victim of old time, they would have told him, in the manner of Festus (not yet obsolete), that much learning had made him mad. They "knew" that their Redeemer had lived, died, and risen again. The unbelief of philosophers, or of scoffers like Lucian, affected them no more than scientific and critical unbelief to-day disturbs the majority of unthinking Christians. The busy sacrificial and devotional life of Hierapolis would be as little affected by Lucian's tranquil exhibition of it as the life at Lourdes has been by Zola's novel. On that side, we can very easily understand the past by the present. So little psychic or intellectual difference was there between Jesuism and the other "isms" that Paul's propaganda made no measurable sensation in the colluvies of the Roman empire. As Renan avows, even on the assumption of the genuineness of the Epistles, he was the missioner of a number of small conventicles, all convinced that they alone were the "true Church of God upon earth." It is an error of perspective to ascribe extraordinary faculty to the missionary who either converted or "stablished" such believers; and it is plainly unnecessary to assume in his case any abnormal sincerity or persuasiveness. If we were to estimate him in terms of the records we should describe him either as a halluciné or as a fanatic who had shed Christian blood in his Judaic stage and never in the least learned humility on that score, his phrases of contrition being balanced by the fiercest asperities towards all who withstood him in his Christian stage. But we have no right to draw a portrait of "Paul," who is left to us a composite of literary figments testifying only to the previous activity of a propagandist so-named. One conclusion, however, holds alike whether or not we accept any of the epistles as genuine: or rather, the more we lean on the epistles the more it holds: Paul had no concern about the life, teachings, or "personality" of his Jesus. [321] His Jesus, be it said once more, is a speechless abstraction. One of the strangest fallacies in the procedure of the biographical school is the assumption that the acceptance of the epistles as genuine involves the admission of the historicity of the Founder. In actual fact, it was a belief in the substantial genuineness of the main epistles that first strengthened the present writer in his first surmises of the non-historicity of the entire gospel record; just as a perception of the historical situation broadly set forth in Judges confirms doubt as to the historicity of the record of the Hexateuch. The two will not consist. On the other hand, Van Manen, who had previously been troubled about the historicity of Jesus, was positively set at rest on that score when he reached the conclusion that all the Paulines were supposititious. This happened simply because he had scientifically covered the field only on the Pauline side: had he applied equivalent tests to the gospels, he would have reached there too a verdict of fabrication. There is strictly no absolute sequitur in such a case. The myth-theory is neither made nor marred by the rejection of the Paulines. Even those who cannot realize the indifference of "Paul" to all personal records of his Jesus--or, recognizing it, are content to explain it away by formulas--must see on consideration that belief in a Saviour God no more needed biographical basis in the case of Paul than in the case of the priests of Mithra, who, it may be noted, had a strong centre at Tarsus. [322] There is a certain plausibility in the argument that only a great personality could have made possible the belief in the Resurrection story--though that too is fallacy--but there is no plausibility in inferring that a conception of a personality he had never personally known was needed to impel Paul to his evangel, which is simply one of future salvation by divine sacrifice for all who believe. That is the substitution made by Gentile Christism for the miscarrying Messianism of the Petrine doctrine. It was probably the normal doctrine of many pagan cults--Mithraism for one, which for three hundred years, by common consent, was the outstanding rival of Christianity in the Roman empire. [323] It was, then, no specialty of dogma that ultimately determined the success of the one and the disappearance of the other. It was a concatenation of real or "external" causes, not a peculiarity of mere belief. § 5. Real Determinants The more we study comparatively the fortunes of the Christian and the rival cults, the more difficult it is to conceive that it made headway in virtue of sheer monotheism. If we assume that Judaism had made its proselytes in the pagan world by reason of the appeal made by its monotheism to the more thoughtful minds, we are bound to infer that Christism was on that side rather at a disadvantage, inasmuch as it was really adding a new deity, with a "Holy Spirit" superadded, to the God of the Jews. But the ordinary argument as to the vogue of "pure monotheism" at any time is in the main a series of traditional assumptions. For the more thoughtful of the ancients, polytheism was always tending to pass into monotheism. We see the process going on in the Vedas, in Brahmanism, in the Egyptian system, in the Babylonian--to say nothing of the Greek. [324] It proceeded partly by way of henotheism--the tendency to exalt any particular deity as the deity: partly by way of the compelled surmise that all the deities of the popular creeds were but aspects or names of one all-controlling Power. Wherever creeds met, the more thoughtful were driven to ask themselves whether the heavens could be a mere reflex of the earth, with every nation represented by its special God; and to fuse the national Gods into one was but a step to fusing the Gods of the various natural forces into one. Since religions became organized, there must always have been monotheists, as there must always have been unbelievers. Nevertheless, polytheism is just as surely popular as monotheism is inevitable to the more thoughtful who remain "religious" in the natural sense of the term. One of the great delusions maintained by the acceptance of the falsified history of Judaism and the conventional religion of the Bible is the notion that the Jews were a specially monotheistic people. They were not. [325] They were originally tribalists like their neighbours, holding by a tribal God and a hierarchy of inferior Gods. To this day we are seriously told that Abraham made a new departure as a monotheist. Abraham is a mythical patriarch, himself once a deity; and the deity represented to have been believed in by Abraham is a tribal God. And not even the tribal God was monotheistically worshipped. The Sacred Books are one long chain of complaints against the Israelites for their perpetual resort to "strange Gods"--and Goddesses. [326] Two brilliant French scholars have advanced the thesis that this alleged polytheism is imaginary; [327] and that the Israelites in the mass always worshipped only the One God Yahweh. [328] But this position, which is grounded on the inference that the mass of the historical and prophetic literature is post-exilic, outgoes its own grounds. Even if we assume, with the theorists, that Jewish monotheism was universalist from the moment it took shape as monotheism in literature, [329] we get rid neither of the question of pre-exilic polytheism nor of that of popular survival. To say that the post-exilic Jews are "the only Jews known to history," and that the apparently old lore in Genesis is "perhaps really the most modern," being invented for purposes of parable, is only a screening of the fact that the Hebrews evolved religiously like other peoples. A resort to alien Gods is seen to be universal in the religious history of the ancient world. Every conquered race was suspected to have secret power in respect of "the God of the land [330]"; and wherever races mixed, cults mixed. It is only on a provision of special Sacred Books, themselves treated as fetishes, that the attractions of alien cults can be repelled; and not even Sacred Books can make real monotheists of an uncultured majority. Even later Judaism, with its angels, its Metatron, its Satan, was never truly monotheistic. [331] Islam is not. The universalism which in later Judaism still commonly passes for a specialty of the Hebrew mind was really an assimilation and development of Perso-Babylonian ideas; [332] and Satan made a dualism of the Jewish creed even as Ahriman did of the Persian. In the Romanized world, Judaism had never a really great success of proselytism, just because the more cultured had their own monotheism, and had in Greek literature something more satisfactory than the Hebraic, with its barbaric basis of racialism and its apparatus of circumcision, synagogues and Sabbaths. The proselytes were made in general among the less cultured--not the populace, but the serious men of religious predilections, who were the more impressed by the Sacred Books as rendered in the Septuagint because they were not at home in the higher literature of Greece. And if Judaism could not sweep the Roman empire in virtue of monotheism, Christism could not, especially while it lacked sacred books of its own. Professor Smith's thesis of a rapid monotheistic triumph is partly founded on his own vivid interpretation of many of the gospel stories of cast-out demons and diseases as a symbolism for successes against polytheism. And his symbolistic interpretation, which is at first sight apt to seem arbitrary, is really important at many points, accounting as it does convincingly for a number of gospel stories. But if we are to assume that all the gospel stories of casting out devils, curing lepers, healing the lame, and giving sight to the blind, were composed with a symbolic intent, we shall still be left asking on what grounds the Name of Jesus made any popular appeal before and after the symbolizing gospels were compiled. Professor Smith draws a powerful picture of the relief given by monotheism to polytheists. In his eloquent words, the "tyranny of demons" had "trodden down humanity in dust and mire since the first syllable of recorded time"; and the new proclamation "roused a world, dissolved the fetters of the tyrannizing demons, set free the prisoners of superstition, poured light upon the eyes of the blind, and called a universe to life." [333] But let us be clear as to the facts. If by "demons" we understand the Gods of the heathen, there was really no more "bondage" under polytheism than under monotheism. Spiritual bondage can be and is set up by the fear of One God who is supposed to meddle actively with all life; [334] and the Jewish law was in itself notoriously an intellectual and social bondage. It is expressly represented as such in the Pauline epistles. If again we have regard to the fear of "evil spirits," there was really no difference between Jew and Gentile, for the "superstition" of the Jew in those matters was unbounded. [335] Nor is there any ground for thinking that the Jew had more confidence than other people in divine protection from the spirits of evil. In what respect, then, are we to suppose Jesuist monotheism to have been an innovation? The argument seems to require that Jesuism delivered the polytheist from belief in the existence either of his daimon Gods or of his evil spirits. But obviously it negated neither of these. Daimons of all sorts are constantly presupposed in Jesuist polemic. The "freedom in Christ" proffered to Jews and Gentiles by the Pauline evangel is, in the terms of the case, not a freedom from the terrors of polytheism as such. It was certainly not regarded as a freedom, from "demons," for exorcism against demons was a standing function in the early church for centuries; and the fear of a demon or demons is implicit in the "Lord's Prayer." What is proffered is primarily a freedom from the Jewish ceremonial law, and secondarily a freedom from fear in respect of the judgment-day and the future life, the divine sacrifice having taken away all sin. We are told by eloquent missionaries in our own day [336] that the Christian doctrine gives a new sense of freedom and security to negroes, in particular to the women; though we also learn on the other hand that where the two religions can compete freely Islam makes the stronger claim in respect of its exclusion of the race bar which Christianity always sets up in the rear of its evangel. But here, if the fear of evil spirits is really cast out, it is by a modern doctrine of their non-existence, not found in the New Testament, but generated by modern science. Whatever preaching of monotheism, then, entered into early Jesuism, it gave no deliverance from belief in evil spirits: rather it added to their number by turning good daimons into bad. What is more, there enters into Christian polemic at a fairly early stage a use of the terms "God" and "Gods" for the "saints" which is on all fours with the common language of Paganism; [337] and this is a much more common note than the "high" monotheism of the Apology of Aristides, which has hardly any Christian characteristics. His monotheism is rather Pagan than Christian. The broad fact remains that so far as we can know the early Jesuist polemic from the gospels, the Acts, the Epistles, the Apocalypse, or the patristic literature, it was not a wide and successful assault on polytheism as such by an appeal to monotheistic instinct, but just a proffer to Jews and Gentiles of a kind of creed common enough in the pagan world, its inconsistent monotheism appealing only to a minority of the recipients. [338] The very miracle-stories which Professor Smith interprets as allegories of monotheistic propaganda became part of the popular appeal as soon as they were made current in documents; and they appealed (he will admit) as miracle-stories, not as allegories. Peter and Paul in their turn are represented as working miracles of healing. It was all finally part of the appeal to primary religious credulity. Of two positions, then, we must choose one. Either the miracle-stories of the gospels, and by consequence those of the Acts, were as such otiose inventions for an audience which, on the view under discussion, would have been much more responsive to an explicit claim of triumph over polytheistic beliefs, the thing they are said to have been most deeply concerned about, or the miracle stories in general were meant as miracle-stories, only some later symbolists seeking to impose a symbolic sense on the records along with the Gnostic conception that the Christ had spoken in allegories which the people were not meant to understand. This later manipulation undoubtedly did take place. The parable of the Rich One, as Professor Smith convincingly shows, is an allegory of Jew and Gentile--the Rich One being Israel. But it is not by such manipulation that cults are made popular, congregations collected, and revenue secured. And it was on these practical lines that Christianity was "stablished." The factors which made this one Eastern cult gradually gain ground, and finally hold its ground, as against the many rival cults, were-- 1. The system of ecclesiæ, modelled at once on the Jewish synagogue and the pagan collegia. 2. The practice of mutual help, making the churches Friendly Societies--again an assimilation of common pagan practice. 3. The colligation of the churches, primarily by means of a new sacred literature of gospels and epistles, and secondarily by a system of centralized government, partly modelled on the imperial system. 4. The backing of the new Christian Sacred Books by the Jewish Sacred Books, giving an ancient Eastern background and basis for the faith in a world in which Eastern religious elements were progressively overriding the Western, which had in comparison no documentary basis. 5. The giving to the whole process a relatively democratic character, again after the model of the Jewish system, wherein the people had their main recognition as human beings with rights. Thus Christianity was at once a "secret society" under an autocracy, as were so many Hellenistic religious groups, drawing members as such societies always do in autocratically governed States, [339] and a popular movement as contrasted with Mithraism, which always remained a mere secret society, whence its easy ultimate suppression by the Christianized government. 6. It was the wide ramification and popular importance of the Christian system that at length made it worth the while of the emperor to cease persecuting it as a partly anti-imperial organization and to turn it into an imperial instrument by making it the religion of the State. To explain the process as the morally deserved success of a religion superior from the start, in virtue of the superiority of its nominal Founder, would be to adhere to pre-scientific conceptions of causation, akin to the geocentric assumption in astronomy. Hierology ultimately merges in sociology, as mythology and anthropology (in the English limitation of the term) merge in hierology; and sociology is a study of the reaction of environments as well as of the action of institutions and doctrines. The Christian success was finally achieved by the assimilation of all manner of pagan modes of attraction on the side of creed, and the absolute ultimate subordination of the specialties of early Christian ethic to the business of political adaptation. And to all attempts to obscure the problem by figuring Christianity as a continuously beneficent and purifying force it is sufficient here to answer that it is in strict fact a religious variant which survived in a decaying civilization, a politically and socially decaying world; that it lent itself to that decay; and that it did less than nothing to avert it. Where superior hostile power efficiently fought it, it was suppressed just as it suppressed the organized cults of paganism and some (not all) of its own heretical sects. Its further survival, which does not here properly concern us, was but a matter of the renewed "triumph" of an organized over unorganized religions, and of the adoption of that organization by the new barbaric States as before by the declining Roman empire. CHAPTER V ORGANIZATION AND ECONOMICS § 1. The Economic Side It is important to realize in some detail the operation of the economic factor in particular, and of organization in general, before we try to grasp synthetically the total process of documentary and doctrinal construction. The former is somewhat sedulously ignored in ordinary historiography, by reason of a general unwillingness even among rationalists to seem to connect mercenary motives with religious beginnings; and of the general assumption among religionists that "true" or "early" religion operates in spite of, in defiance or in independence of and not by aid of, economic motives. No one will dispute that the history of the Roman Catholic Church is one of economic as well as doctrinal action and reaction, or that Protestantism from the first was in large measure an economic processus. But it is commonly assumed, at least implicitly, that "primitive" religion, religion "in the making," is not at all an affair of economic motive or reaction. Those who have at all closely studied primitive religious life know that this is not so. [340] The savage medicine-man is up to his lights as keenly concerned about his economic interest as were the priests of ancient Babylon and Egypt--to take instances that can hardly give modern offence. [341] And to say this is not to say that the "religion" involved is insincere, in the case of the savage or the pagan any more than in that of the modern ecclesiastic or missionary. It is merely to say that religion has always its economic side, and that faith may go with economic self-seeking as easily as with self-sacrifice. I at least am not prepared to say that when the Franciscans in general passed from the state of voluntary poverty to that of corporate wealth they ceased to be sincere believers; or that a bishop is necessarily less pious than a Local Preacher. I have seen, in Egypt, the life of a Moslem "saint" in the making. He fasted much, certainly never eating more than one meal a day, and he was visibly emaciated and feeble as a result of his abstinences. Over his devout neighbours he had an immense influence. To his religious addresses they listened with rapt reverence; and when once in my presence he gave to a young man a religious charm to cure his sick sister, in the shape of a cigarette paper inscribed with a text from the Koran and rolled up to be swallowed, the youth's face was transfigured with joyous faith, his eyes shining as if he had seen a glorious vision. I have not seen more radiant faith, in or out of "Israel." And the saint, all the same, took unconcealed satisfaction in showing privately the heavy purse of gold he had recently collected from his faithful. To call him insincere would be puerile. I believe him to have been as sincere as Luther or Loyola. He simply happened, like so many Easterns and Westerns, to combine the love of pelf with the love of God. If I am told there were no such men among the early Jesuists or Christian propagandists, I answer that if there had not been the cult would not have gone very far. Of course the records minimize the economic side. In the gospels we are told that Judas carried "the bag," but never anything of what he got to put in it. But in the Acts, the economic factor obtrudes itself even in myth. A picture is there drawn (ii, 44), for the edification of later Christians, of the first community as having "all things common"--a statement which we have no reason to believe true of any ancient Christian community whatever--unless in the "pre-apostolic" period. [342] The picture never recurs, in the apostolic history or elsewhere. And the purpose of edification is unconsciously turned to the account of revelation. Of the faithful it is represented that they "sold their possessions and goods and parted them to all, according as any man had need." The assertion is reiterated (iv, 34) to the extent of alleging that all who had houses or lands sold all, bringing the proceeds to the apostles for distribution "according as any one had need." Among these having need would certainly be the "apostles." Soon one of the faithful, Joseph surnamed Barnabas, "a Levite, a man of Cyprus by race," is held up to honour for that "having a field," he "sold it, and brought the money, and laid it at the apostles' feet." Then comes the story of Ananias and Sapphira, who, or at least the former, have ever since supplied Christendom with its standing name for the fraudulent liar. The sin of Ananias consisted in his not having given the apostles the whole price of a possession he had voluntarily sold for behoof of the community. There could be no more striking instance of the power of ecclesiastical ethic to paralyse the general moral sense. Ananias in the legend was giving liberally, but not liberally enough to satisfy the apostle, who accordingly denounces him as sinning against the Holy Ghost, [343] and miraculously slays him for his crime. One might have supposed that no Christian reader, remembering that the ultra-righteous apostle, in the previous sacrosanct record, had just before been represented as basely denying his Lord, could fail to be struck with shame and horror by the savage recital. But of such shame and horror I cannot recall one Christian avowal. And we are to remember that the devout recipients of that recital are assumed to have been the ideal Christian converts. Soon the twelve are made to explain (vi, 2-4) to the growing "multitude of the disciples" that "it is not fit that we should forsake the word of God, and serve tables. Look ye out ... seven men of good report, full of the Spirit and of wisdom, whom we may appoint over this business. But we will continue stedfastly in prayer, and in the ministry of the word." From the date of that writing the apostle and his successors could claim to be worthy of their hire, though they had long to squabble for it. In the early Jesuist additions to the Teaching we see how the issue was raised. At first (xi) there is a succession of wandering apostles or "prophets." Every apostle is to be received "as the Lord; but he shall not remain [except for?] one day; if however there be need, then the next [day]; but if he remain three days, he is a false prophet. But when the apostle departeth, let him take nothing except bread enough till he lodge [again]; but if he ask money, he is a false prophet." That is the first stage, probably quite Judaic. The next section (xii) still adheres broadly to the same view. Every entrant must work for his living. "If he will not act according to this, he is a Christmonger (christemporos)." Evidently there were already Christmongers. But in chapter xiii the primitive stage has been passed, and there is systematic enactment of economic provision for the installed prophet or teacher as such:-- But every true prophet who will settle among you is worthy of his food. Likewise a true teacher, he also is worthy, like the workman, of his food. Every first-fruit, then, of the produce of wine-press and threshing-floor, of oxen and of sheep, thou shalt take and give to the prophets; for they are your high-priests. But if ye have no prophet, give [it] to the poor. If thou makest a baking of bread, take the first [of it] and give according to the commandment. In like manner when thou openest a jar of wine or oil, take the first [of it] and give to the prophets; and of money and clothing and every possession, take the first, as may seem right to thee, and give according to the commandment. This economic development, too, may have been Jewish, as it was heathen. [344] It is certainly also Christian. The "prophets" are represented in the Acts (xi, 27) as at work already in the days of Claudius; and they were an established class at the time of the writing of First Corinthians (xii, 28), standing next to "apostles" and above "teachers." That passage is obviously post-Pauline, if we are to think of Paul as spending only a few years in his eastern propaganda. But the prophets are ostensibly numerous in the earliest days of the church, [345] and seem to have subsisted alongside of "apostles" at the outset. All along they must have found some subsistence: in time they are "established." The eleventh, twelfth, and thirteenth sections of the Teaching, which are our best evidence of the progression, show a gradual triumph of the economic factor, registering itself in the additions. The fifteenth section divides in two parts, an economic and an ethical, the economic coming first:-- Now elect for yourselves bishops and deacons worthy of the Lord, men meek and not avaricious, and upright and proved; for they too render you the service of the prophets and the teachers. Therefore neglect them not; for they are the ones who are honoured of you, together with the prophets and teachers. It was for a community thus supporting various classes of teachers and preachers, first poorly and primitively, later in an organized fashion, that the gospels were built up and the epistles composed. § 2. Organization Organization, which in our days has become "a word to conjure with," is no new factor in human life. It is the secret of survival for communities and institutions; and the survival of Christism in its competition with other cults must be traced mainly to the early process of adaptation. That, however, takes place in terms of three concurrent factors: (1) the appeal made by the cult which is the ground of association; (2) the practice of the community as regards the relations of members; (3) the administration, as regards propaganda, expansion and co-ordination of groups. And it is through primary adaptations in respect of the first and second, with a constant stimulus from the third, that the Christian Church can be seen to have succeeded in the struggle for existence. That is to say, it is in the element in which conscious organization is most prominent as distinct from usage or tradition that the determining influence chiefly lies. The writer who in England was the first to take a comparatively scientific view of church organization from the ecclesiastical side, the late Dr. Edwin Hatch, puts in the forefront of his survey "the preliminary assumption that, as matter of historical research, the facts of ecclesiastical history do not differ in kind from the facts of civil history." [346] For those who see in the religion itself a processus of natural social history, this assumption is a matter of course; but the ecclesiastical recognition of the fact is an important step; and the churchman's analysis of the process is doubly serviceable in that he keeps the study avowedly separate from that of the evolution of doctrine. What he could not have supplied on scientific lines without falling into heresy, the rationalist can supply for himself. As our historian recognizes, the Christian movement in the Eastern Empire had from the outset a strong basis in the democratic spirit which it derived alike from Jewish and from Hellenistic example. In the day of universal autocracy, social life lay more and more in the principles of voluntary association; and the first Christian churches were but instances of an impulse seen in operation on all sides. In the Jewish environment, the synagogue; in the Hellenistic the ecclesia or private association, were everywhere in evidence. Greek religious associations--thiasoi, eranoi, orgeones--were but types of the prevailing impetus to find in voluntary organized groups a substitute for the democratic life of the past. [347] Whereas the older associations for the promotion of special worships were limited to male free citizens, the new admitted foreigners, slaves, and women. Besides religious associations there were a multitude of others which had the double aspect of clubs and friendly societies; trade guilds existed "among almost every kind of workmen in almost every town in the empire:" [348] and burial clubs, dining clubs, financial societies, and friendly societies met other social needs. Almost every society, however, had its tutelary divinity, "in the same way as at the present day similar associations on the continent of Europe"--as in England before the Reformation--"invoke the name of a patron saint; and their meetings were sometimes called by a name which was afterwards consecrated to Christian uses--that of a 'sacred synod.'" [349] In many of them "religion was, beyond this, the basis and bond of union.... Then, as now, many men had two religions, that which they professed and that which they believed; for the former there were temples and State officials and public sacrifices; for the latter there were associations; and in these associations, as is shown from extant inscriptions, divinities whom the State ignored had their priests, their chapels, and their ritual." [350] The Christists, then, when they began to form groups, were doing what a swarm of other movements did. Their ecclesiæ were called by a pagan name, as were the Jewish synagogues. Two things it behoved them to do if they were collectively to gain ground and outlive or out-top the rest: they must multiply in membership, and they must co-ordinate their groups; and both things they did on lines of common action. Membership was from the first promoted by the simplest of all methods, systematic almsgiving to poor adherents; a practice long before initiated by the Jewish synagogues and to this day fixed among them. Given the basis of free association, the inculcated duty of almsgiving, the eastern belief in its saving virtue, [351] and the special Christian belief in the speedy end of the world, the problem of membership was early solved. The poor, helped one day, would themselves help the next, as is their human way in all ages; and in an age of general poverty, the result of an autocratic fiscal system in the Empire as afterwards in the Turkish Empire which in the East took its place, such mutual sympathy constituted a broad social basis of corporate existence. For our ecclesiastical historian, the poverty is the main determinant on the side of early organization. With a note of profound pessimism, which alternates strangely with passages of professional eulogy of the Church, he notes that pauperism and philanthropy were going hand in hand already throughout the Empire before the advent of Christianity, rich men and municipalities proclaiming an "almost Christian sentiment" on the subject. "The instinct of benevolence was fairly roused. And yet to the mass of men life was hardly worth living. It tended to become a despair." [352] And he claims that the Christian practice of almsgiving--which he knows to have been warmly inculcated among the Jews, as it has always been in Eastern countries--was one of the conservative forces that "arrested decay. They have prevented the disintegration, and possibly the disintegration by a vast and ruinous convulsion, of the social fabric. Of those forces the primitive bishops and deacons were the channels and the ministers.... They bridged over the widening interval between class and class. They lessened to the individual soul the weight of that awful sadness of which, then as now, to the mass of men, life was the synonym and the sum." [353] The generalization as to the widening of the interval between classes is hardly borne out by the evidence; and the pessimism of the last sentence partly defeats the argument, by putting the life of the early Christian period on the same general level with that of to-day and of all the time between. The true summary would be that in that age the springs of social life were lamed by the suppression of all national existence; that the rule of Rome tended to general impoverishment in respect of a vicious system of taxation; and that the subject peoples, deprived of the old impulses to collective energy, at once turned more and more to private association and became ready to believe in a coming "end of the world" which in some way was to mean a new life. And as the Church's doctrine was pre-eminently one of salvation in that new life, it behoved it in every way to resort to propaganda while maintaining the eleemosynary system which gave it a broad basis of membership. Thus the organization which controlled the simple financial system must also have regard to the spread of doctrine. And for the means of spreading doctrine, again, as we have already noted, the cue was obviously given by Judaism, which stood out from all religious systems in the Roman world as a religion of Sacred Books. Sacred Books of its own the Jesuist movement must have if it was to hold its own against the prestige of the Jewish Bible. The production of Sacred Books, then, was a task which devolved upon the organizers of the Christian ecclesiæ throughout the Eastern Empire, equally with the task of co-ordination, of which, in fact, it was a main part. A common religious literature was the basis of Jewish cohesion. Only by means of a common religious literature could Christism cohere. No literature, indeed, could avert schism. Schism and strife are among the first notes sounded in the epistles; and a religion which aimed at dogmatic teaching, as against the purely liturgical practice of the old pagan cults, was bound to multiply them. Judaism itself was divided into antagonistic groups of Pharisees, Sadducees, and Scribes, to say nothing of the Zealots, the Essenes, and other diverging groups. But sects do not destroy a religion any more than parties destroy a State; and the way of success for Christism was a way which, while it involved a multiplication of schism so long as the voluntary basis remained, made a growing aggregate which was at least a unity as having a special creed, distinct from all competing with it. Thus the Christian movement was doubly a copy and competitor of Judaism, upon whose books it primarily founded. As the dispersed Jewish synagogues were co-ordinated from Jerusalem by the High Priest, and later from Tiberias by the Patriarch, by means of Twelve Apostles and possibly by a subordinate grade of seventy-two collectors who brought in the contributions of the faithful scattered among the Gentiles, so the Jesuists, beginning with an organization centred in Jerusalem and likewise aiming at the collection of funds for which almsgiving in Jerusalem was the appealing pretext, were bound after the fall of the Temple to aim at a centralization or centralizations of their own. A literature became more and more necessary if the new faith was to extend. That was the way at once to glorify the new Hero-God and to multiply his devotees. And it would seem to have been from the starting-point of the Jewish Teaching of the Twelve Apostles that the new departure on one line was made. To say who, or what class in the new organization, began the evolution, seems impossible in the present state of our knowledge. The point at which the Christist organization in course of time most noticeably diverges from the Jewish model is in the creation and aggrandisement of the episcopos, the bishop, a title and a function borrowed from the pagan societies. These had officials called epimeletai (superintendents) and episcopoi, whose function it was to receive funds and dispense alms. [354] The early Christists adopted the latter title, and constituted for each group a single official so named, who as president of the assembly received the offerings of donors and was personally responsible for their distribution. This is not the place to trace the effects of the institution in the general development of the churches. It must suffice to note that while in their presbyters these preserved the democratic element which they had derived from Judaism and which gave them their social foundation, their creation of a supreme administrator, whose interest it was always to increase the influence of his church by increasing his own, gave them a special source of strength in comparison with the Judaic system. [355] For the dispersed Jews, held by a racial tie, association was a matter of course. Marked off by religion if not by aspect from Gentiles everywhere, they were a community within the Gentile community. For the first Jesuists, association was not thus a matter of course all round. For the slaves, seeking friendship, and the poor, seeking help, it may have been; but the more prosperous were for that very reason less spontaneously attracted. The fundamental tie was the so-called "Eucharist," which at first, in varying forms, was probably only an annual rite: the agapae or love feasts were common to the multitude of pagan associations. Accordingly many adherents tended to "forsake the assembling of themselves together," [356] and it was plainly the function of the bishop to act upon these. Not only the Epistle to the Hebrews and that of Jude but those of Barnabas and Ignatius, and The Shepherd of Hermas, anxiously or sternly urge the duty of regular meeting. Addresses by bishops and "prophets" would be natural means of promoting the end. Who then produced the literature? Once more, there is no evidence. If any of the Epistles might at first sight seem "genuine," they are those ascribed to James and Jude, essentially Judaic or Judaistic documents, especially the former, in which (ii, 1) the cumbrous formula "the faith of our Lord Jesus Christ of glory" exhibits a Christian interpolation. It is essentially in the spirit of the Teaching, a counsel of right living, calling for works in opposition to the new doctrine that faith is the one thing needful, and sounding the Ebionitic note (v, 1): "Go to now, ye rich, weep and howl for your miseries that are coming upon you." But save for the interpolation and the naming of Jesus Christ in the sentence of preamble, there is no specific Jesuist or Christist teaching whatever. If this document was current among the Jesuists, it was borrowed from a Jewish author who had at most one special item of belief in common with them, that of "the coming [or presence] of the Lord" (v. 7, 8); and here there is no certainty that "the Lord" meant for the writer the Christ. Once more, then, we turn for our first clue to the Judaic Teaching, which on its face exhibits the gradual accretion of Jesuist elements, beginning with an Ebionitic mention of the "Servant" Jesus, and proceeding step by step from a stage in which wandering "apostles" or "prophets" must subsist from hand to mouth and from day to day, to one in which settled prophets are supported by first fruits, and yet a further one in which bishops and deacons appear to administer while prophets and teachers continue to teach. And as the "prophets" constitute a class which in the third century has disappeared from the church, as if its work were done; and as they bear the name given to the chief producers of the sacred literature of Judaism, it would seem to be the natural surmise that they were the primary producers of special literature for the early Christian churches. CHAPTER VI EARLY BOOK-MAKING §1. The "Didachê" Evidently the Teaching (Didachê) of the Twelve Apostles was humbly used by some of the early Jesuists as an authoritative Jewish manual which supplied them with their rule of conduct, they only later supplying (c. ix) their special rite of the "Eucharist" of wine and broken [357] bread, and vaguely mentioning "the life and knowledge which thou hast made known to us by Jesus thy Servant." There is no mention of crucifixion, no naming of Jesus as Messiah. We are confronted with a primary Judaic Jesuism which is not that of the gospels, nor that of the Paulines, nor that of the Acts, though it agrees with the latter in calling Jesus the Servant of the Lord. It is even of older type than Ebionism; for the Ebionites carried their cult of poverty and asceticism to the point of using water instead of wine in the Eucharist; [358] whereas the Didachê specifies wine, the older practice. The cup of the Eucharist is "the holy wine of David thy servant, which thou hast made known to us through Jesus thy servant"; and the thanks which follow (c. 10) are to the holy Father "for thy holy name, which thou hast caused to dwell in our hearts, and for the knowledge and faith and immortality which thou hast made known to us through Jesus thy servant." It is quite clear that in this form of Jesuism, visibly early as compared with that set forth in the gospels and the Acts, we have something different from that in its derivation. The Eucharist, here so called ostensibly for the first time, is only inferribly derived from a sacrament of the body and blood of the sacrificed Jesus. Eucharistia means thanksgiving or thank-offering, and this ritual-meal is intelligibly so named. Applied, as by Justin Martyr and later Fathers, to the sacrificial sacrament of the gospels and the epistles, the name is a false description: yet the false description becomes canonical. The licit inference appears to be that the cult of a Jesus who outside of Judaism was a Sacrificed Saviour-God had here, under Judaic control, been presented as that of a Hero-Jesus, connected like Dionysos with the gift of the vine, and associated with a ritual meal of thanksgiving to Yahweh, whose "servant" he is. Taking the Didachê as a stage in the Christian evolution, we further infer that the conception and name of a "Eucharist" was thence imposed on another and older species of ritual-meal, in which the Jesus is slain as a sacrifice and commemorated in a sacrificial sacrament. The more Judaic form of the cult absorbs an older and non-Judaic form, forced to the front by a death-story which gives to its sacrament a higher virtue for the devotee. It is a case of competition of cult forms for survival, the weaker being superseded. And as the sacrament, so the Jesus, is developed on other lines. He of the Didachê is neither Son of God nor Saviour, as he is not the Messiah, though he has somehow conveyed "knowledge and faith and immortality." What the Didachê does is to begin the process of a doctrinal and ethical teaching which coalesces with that of evolving the God. In the eighth section, the "Lord's Prayer" is introduced with the formula "Nor pray ye like the hypocrites, but as the Lord commanded in his gospel." Now "the Lord" has in every previous mention clearly meant, not Jesus, who is mentioned solely in the "servant" passages, but "God," "the Father," the Jewish deity. Either, then, "the Lord ... in his gospel" refers to some "gospel" of Yahweh or, as is highly probable, the whole clause is a late interpolation. This is the more likely because the seventh section, prescribing baptism in the name of "the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit," is flagrantly interpolated. That being so, the provision at the end of c. 9, that no one shall partake of the Eucharist except those baptized in the name of the Lord, must be held to be also a late interpolation. Thus the document has been manipulated to some extent even in its early portions. The only other mentions of the gospel are in chapters 11 and 15, which follow after the "Amen" of the tenth, and represent the progressive provisions for the apostles and prophets of the growing church. The introduction of Jesuism in chapters 9 and 10 is pre-gospel. This will be disputed only by those who, like the first American and German editors, cannot see that the first five or six sections are purely Judaic. After Dr. Charles Taylor and other English editors did so, coinciding with an early suggestion of M. Massebieau, [359] the rest have mostly come into line; and even the American editors at the outset saw that the Epistle of Barnabas, which has so much of the matter of the Teaching, is the later and not the earlier document. Thus the Lord's Prayer takes its place as originally a Jewish and not a Christian document; and the passages in the early chapters which coincide with the Sermon on the Mount are equally Jewish. [360] We can now understand the tradition that Matthew, of which the present opening chapters are so plainly late, was the first of the gospels, and was primarily a collection of logia. But the logia were in the terms of the case not logia Iesou at all, being but a compilation of Jewish dicta on the lines of the Teaching, and, as regards the form of beatitude, probably an imitation of other Jewish literature as exampled in the "Slavonic Enoch." [361] It must be repeated, however, that the ninth and tenth sections of the Teaching are not to be taken as giving us "the" original Jesus of the Jesuist movement. We have posited, with Professor Smith, a "multifocal" movement; and concerning the Jesus here given we can only say that the document tells of the primary connection of the Jesus-Name with a non-sacrificial Eucharist. Whether the name stood historically for Joshua or for the Jesus of Zechariah, or for yet another, it is impossible to pronounce. What is clear is that it does not point to the Jesus of the gospels. When the Jesus-sections of the Teaching were penned, the gospels were yet to come; and the crucified Saviour-God of Paul was not preached, though his myth was certainly current somewhere. § 2. The Apocalypse The "Revelation of John the Theologian" is also, in respect of much of its matter, pre-gospel, and even in its later elements independent of the gospels. It is noteworthy that the latest professional criticism has after infinite fumbling come (without acknowledging him) to the view of Dupuis that the episode of the woman and the child and the dragon belong to sun-myth; [362] and the exegetes would probably save themselves a good deal of further guessing by contemplating Dupuis's solution that the special details are simply derived from an ancient planisphere or fuller zodiac, in which the woman and the dragon and the hydra are prominent figures. [363] It is in any case particularly important to realize that this palpably mythical conception of a Jesus Christ, figured as "the Lamb," evidently with a zodiacal reference, is found in one of the earliest documents of the cult, outside of the gospels. In these, as we have seen, the original God-Man is progressively humanized from the hieratic figure of the opening chapters of Mark, through Matthew and Luke, till in the fourth, which declares him Logos and premundane, he has close personal friends and (ostensibly) weeps for the death of one. But not even the thoughtless criticism which professes to find a recognizable human figure in Mark can pretend to find one in Revelation. There, admittedly on Jewish bases, there is limned an unearthly figure, who has been "pierced," we are not told where; who has the keys of death and Hades, and carries on his right hand seven stars; and has eyes like a flame of fire and feet like unto burnished brass. With this pre-Christian apparatus, which on the astrological side goes back to Persia and Babylon, there is carried on a fierce polemic against certain of the "seven churches," the sect of the Nicolaitans, and "them which say they are Jews and are not, but are a synagogue of Satan." The churches named are not those of the Acts and the Pauline epistles: Jerusalem and Antioch are not named, though Ephesus is. Jewish and pre-Jewish myth and doctrine overlay the Jesuist, which at many points is visibly a mere verbal interpolation; so that the question arises whether even the seven churches are primarily Christian or Jewish. If "Babylon" stands for Rome, it is but an adaptation of an older polemic; for Babylon is declared to have actually fallen, before it is announced that she "shall be cast down." [364] The eleventh chapter dilates on the Jewish temple; again and again we listen to a purely Jewish declamation over Jewish woes; the four-and-twenty elders and the Lamb "as though it had been slain, having seven horns, and seven eyes, which are the seven Spirits of God," are of Babylonian and Persian derivation; and the "second death" is Egyptian. In the new Jerusalem, "coming down out of heaven," twelve angels are at the gates, which bear the names of the twelve tribes; and the "twelve apostles of the Lamb" are represented only by "twelve basement courses" of the wall. How much such a document stood for in the early building-up of the cult it is impossible to gather from the records, which indicate that it was long regarded askance by the gospel-reading and epistle-reading churches. But it gives a definite proof that the cult had roots wholly unlike those indicated in the "catholic" tradition, and wholly incompatible with the beginnings set out in the gospels and the Acts. § 3. Epistles The outstanding problem in regard to the Epistles in the mass is that while criticism is more and more pressing them out of the "apostolic" period into the second century, they show practically no knowledge of the gospels. As little do they show any trace of the "personality" of the Founder, which is posited by the biographical school as the ground for the resurrection myth. Of Jesus as a remarkable personality there is no glimpse in the whole literature; and it must be a relief for the defenders of his historicity to be invited to pronounce both James and Jude pseudepigraphic documents, the former written with direct polemic reference to the Pauline doctrine of faith. [365] The puzzle is to conceive how, on that view, the document can still remain so destitute of Jesuist colouring. Save for the two namings of Jesus (i, 1; ii, 1) at the beginnings of chapters, there is no trace of Jesuine doctrine; the epistle is addressed to "the twelve tribes of the Dispersion"; and there is a reference (ii, 2) to "your synagogue," not to "your ecclesia." When therefore we note the extremely suspicious character of the second naming of Jesus, "our Lord Jesus Christ of glory," we are doubly entitled to diagnose interpolation; and the first naming at once comes under suspicion. It is not surprising therefore that such a critic as Spitta pronounces the epistle a Jewish document. [366] Even if it were true, then, that the eschatological matter has a gospel colouring, that would carry us no further than a surmise that the Jewish document had been slightly developed for Jesuine purposes. And this may be the solution as to the anti-Pauline element. An originally Jewish document may have been used by a Judæo-Christian to carry an attack on a doctrine of Gentilizing Christism. The residual fact is that a section of the Jesuist movement in the second century was satisfied with a quasi-apostolic document which has no hint of the teaching of a historical Jesus. Naturally it soon passed into "catholic" disfavour. But the remaining epistles differ historically from this only in respect of their asseveration of a crucified Christ, by faith in whom men are saved. They too are devoid of biographical data. Neither parable nor miracle, doctrine nor deed, family history nor birthplace, of the Founder is ever mentioned in the epistolary literature, any more than in the Apocalypse or the Didachê. And yet the mass of the epistles are being, as aforesaid, more and more pressed upon by criticism as pseudepigraphic. Second Peter was always in dispute; and First Peter has few save traditionalist supporters. If First John is to be bracketed with the fourth gospel, it is dismissed with that as outside the synoptic tradition: and the second and third epistles are simply dropped as spurious. Hebrews is anonymous, though our Revisers saw fit to retain its false title; and that epistle too is utterly devoid of testimony to a historical Jesus. It tells simply of a human sacrifice, in which the victim "suffered without the gate," in accordance with the regular sacrificial practice. Late or early, then, the epistles give no support to the gospels--or, at least, to the biographical theory founded on these. It is thus quite unnecessary to argue here the interesting question of the genuineness of any of the Pauline epistles. Long ago, nine were given up by the Tübingen school, and four only claimed to be genuine. Remembering the datum of Eusebius that Paul personally penned "only a few very short" epistles, though specially gifted in the matter of style, we are not unprepared to find even these called in question. And latterly the Dutch school whose work culminated in Van Manen has built up an impressive case [367] for the rejection of the whole mass, the supreme "four" included; and the defence so far made by the traditionalists is the reverse of impressive. [368] The ablest counter-criticism comes from other men of the left wing, as Schmiedel, who makes havoc of the Acts. From the point of view of the historical as distinguished from the documentary critic, all that need here be said on the issue is that the negative case may have to be restated if there is faced the hypothesis that the Jesuine movement was of comparatively old standing, and of some degree of development, when Paul came on the scene. Van Manen assumes the substantial historicity not only of Jesus but of the Jesuine movement as set forth in the Gospels; and whereas he found it hard to make that assumption on the view that any of the Paulines was genuine, he had no difficulty about it when he relegated them all to the second century. It should be asked, then, whether the view that the Jesus-cult is "pre-Christian" might not re-open the case for some of the Paulines. Having put that caveat, the historical critic has simply to consider the question of the historicity of Jesus in relation to the Paulines from both points of view, asking what evidence they can be supposed to yield either on the view of the genuineness of some or on that of the spuriousness of all. And the outcome is that on neither view do they tell of a historical Jesus. If "the four" are genuine, Paul, declared to be so near the influence of the "personality" of Jesus, not only shows no trace of impression from it but expressly puts aside the question. In the Epistle to the Galatians he declares that he had not learned his gospel from the other apostles but received it by special revelation, actually avoiding intercourse with the other apostles apart from Peter--a proposition certainly savouring strongly of post-Pauline dialectic, as does the text (2 Cor. v, 16): "Even though we have known Christ after the flesh, yet now we know [him so] no more." Instead then of the Paulines, on the view of their genuineness, confirming the conception of a remarkable personality which had profoundly impressed those who came in contact with it, they radically and unmanageably conflict with that conception. So far Van Manen is justified. If on the other hand we accept the strongly supported thesis that they are all pseudepigraphic, the historicity of the gospels is in no way accredited. We reach the view that early in the second century, when such early gospels as the Matthew and Mark of Papias may be supposed to have been current, even the devotees who wrote in Paul's name took no interest in the human personality of Jesus, but were concerned simply about the religious significance of his death. The passages in First Corinthians (xi, 23 sq.; xv, 3 sq.) which deal with the Supper and the Resurrection expressly repudiate knowledge of the gospels; the first claiming to have "received of the Lord" the facts retailed, and the second, after a similar formula, proffering data not given in any gospel. And both passages have been demonstrably interpolated, even if we do not pronounce them, as we are entitled to do, interpolations as wholes. The first breaks the continuity of an exhortation as to the proper way of eating the Lord's Supper; the second is introduced (xv, 1) with a strange profession to "make known unto you the gospel which I preached unto you." And even the second passage, with its mention of "the twelve," excludes knowledge of the story of Judas; while the first, at the point at which our revisers translate "was betrayed," really says only "delivered up" (paredidoto), which may or may not imply betrayal. How Van Manen could find in all this any support for the gospel story in general he never explained; and obviously no support is given. Historically considered, the epistles undermine the biographical theory whether we reckon them early or late, genuine or pseudepigraphic. If early, they discredit completely the notion of a historical Jesus of impressive personality. If as late as Van Manen makes them (120-140) they tell not only of indifference to the personality of Jesus but of ignorance of the gospel story as we have it, strongly suggesting that the complete story of the tragedy was yet unknown, and that only in still later interpolations, made before the Judas story was current, was it to be indicated. What is more, the Paulines, like other Epistles, tell of vital unbelief as to the reality of Jesus. Paul is made to protest that "some among you say that there is no resurrection of the dead" (1 Cor. xv, 12). These Jesuists, then, held at most only a faith in future salvation by virtue of the sacrament. So in First John it is implied (iv, 2-3) that some of the adherents confess not that Jesus is come in the flesh, which is declared to be the doctrine of "the antichrist," a type of which "many" (ii, 18) have arisen. We are critically forced, then, to the conclusion that for a century after the alleged death of the Founder the Jesuist movement had either no literature whatever save one of primarily Jewish documents such as the Didachê or problematic short Pauline epistles which have either disappeared or been absorbed in much longer documents of later date, which in turn still tell of no Jesuine Sacred Books. All alike exclude the conception of a historical Jesus of remarkable personality. In the doctrinal quarrels which have already driven deep furrows in the faith, the personality of Jesus counts for nothing. In that connection no one cites any teaching of the Master. He is simply an abstract sacrifice; and even in that aspect he is not clearly present in the Jewish-Christian Didachê. Of his earthly parentage, domicile, or career, there is not a word. Everything goes to confirm our hypothesis that the cult is of ancient origin, rooted in a sacrament which evolved out of a rite of human sacrifice and connected with non-Jewish as well as Jewish myths which from the first tended to the deification of the Slain One. It remains, then, to consider the gospels anew as compilations made in the second century of (1) previously current Jewish lore, written and unwritten; (2) doctrinal elements indicated by the sectarian disputes already active; (3) pseudo-historic elements justifying Messianic doctrine and practice; and (4) the Mystery-Drama, now developed under Gentile hands. Upon all this followed (5) the new theology and new pseudo-biography of the fourth gospel, which was but another stage in the general process of myth-making. CHAPTER VII GOSPEL-MAKING § 1. Tradition According to the tradition preserved through Papias (d. circa 165), from "John the presbyter," who is not pretended to have been John the Apostle, the first gospels were those of Mark, the "interpreter" of Peter, who set down in no chronological order the "sayings and doings" of the Lord as he had gathered them from Peter; and of Matthew, who wrote the logia or sayings "in the Hebrew dialect" [369]--presumably Aramaic. This, the earliest written tradition concerning the matter embodied in the gospels, is preserved to us from Papias' lost "Exposition of the Dominical [370] Oracles" (Logiôn kyriakôn) by Eusebius. For his own part, Papias professed to set more store by what he received from Aristion and the Presbyter John and other disciples of the Lord than by anything "out of books." And it chances that he gave out as a Dominical Oracle [371] thus certificated a crude picture of millennial marvels which is actually taken from either the Apocalypse of Baruch, which here imitated the Book of Enoch, or from an older source. [372] Concerning this utterance of the Lord, further, Papias narrated a conversation between Jesus and Judas, in which the latter figures as a freethinker, expressing disbelief in the prediction. Eusebius, scandalized by such testimony, pronounced Papias a man of small understanding. But he is the first Christian authority as to the history of the gospels; and the very fact that he set less store by them than by oral tradition is evidence that he had no reason for thinking them more authoritative than the matter that reached him by word of mouth. It may be that he knew only Greek, and that he could not read for himself the Aramaic logia, concerning which he says that "every one interpreted them for himself as he was able." From the logia and the proto-Mark to the first two synoptics the evolution can only be guessed. No one now claims that we possess the original documents even in translation. Matthew as it stands is admittedly not a translation; and Dr. Conybeare, who idly alleges that I pay no heed to the order of priority of the gospels, and insists chronically on the general priority of Mark, avows that "Mark, the main source of the first and third evangelists, is himself no original writer, but a compiler, who pieces together and edits earlier documents in which his predecessors had written down popular traditions of the miracles and passion of Jesus." [373] And he predicates in one part "four stages of documentary development." [374] How in this state of things the existing Mark can be proved to be the main source of Matthew and Luke is not and cannot be explained. Mark too is admittedly not a translation from Aramaic; but some of his sources may have been. Concerning Matthew, again, the tradition runs that according to Papias he told a story of a woman accused of many sins before the Lord; and Eusebius adds, apparently on his own part, that this is contained in the Gospel according to the Hebrews. If this was the story (now bracketed in R.V.) found only in late copies of the fourth gospel, the "Hebrew" gospel contained matter notably special to itself; and such is the conclusion established by a collation of all the 33 fragments preserved. "We arrive ... at a Gospel (a) in great part independent of the extant text of our gospels, and (b) showing no signs of relationship to Mark or John, but (c) bearing a very marked affinity to Matthew, and (d) a less constant but still obvious affinity to Luke." [375] The hypothesis of Nicholson is "that Matthew wrote at different times the canonical gospel and the gospel according to the Hebrews, or at least that large part of the latter which runs parallel to the former." [376] On this view, "Matthew" in one of his versions deliberately omitted (1) the remarkable story of the woman taken in adultery; (2) the remarkable story that "the mother of the Lord and his brethren" proposed to him that they should all go and be baptized by John, whereupon he asked "Wherein have I sinned?" but added: "except perchance this very thing that I have said in ignorance," and went accordingly; (3) the statement that at baptism Jesus saw the dove "entering into him"; (4) the further item that "the entire fountain of the Holy Spirit descended and rested upon him," addressing him as "My son"; and (5) Jesus' use of the phrase, "My mother, the Holy Spirit." Such a hypothesis, if accepted, deprives of all meaning the notion of an "author" of a document. The only fair inference is that a Greek translation of the Hebrew gospel was one of the sources of the present Matthew, and that either (a) many of its details have been rejected, or (b) that many of the preserved fragments were additions to the original. On either view, we must pronounce that the Hebrew gospel, as exhibited in the fragments, has none of the marks of a real biographical record. The items of narrative are wholly supernaturalist; the items of teaching belong to the more advanced Jewish ethic which we find progressively developed from Matthew to Luke. Once more, the critical inference is either (a) that the ethically-minded among the Jesuist "prophets" set out by putting approved doctrines in the mouth of the legendary Saviour-God, whereafter doctrinary episodes were invented for cult purposes, or (b) that the miraculous life was first pieced out in terms of Old Testament prophecies held for Messianic. Having regard to the ethical nullity of the primary evangel posited in the synoptics, the presumption is wholly against any primary manufacture of new logia. If we take the Sermon on the Mount as typical, the matter is all pre-Christian. [377] If we pronounce the method of the first canonical gospel to be secondary in relation to that of Mark, the ethical element enters only after the cult has gone a long way, and is then Jewish matter subsumed, as in the Didachê. On bases so laid, there accrue a multitude of expletions, stones added to the cairn, as: episodes favouring this or that view of the proper Messianic heredity; of the Messiah's ascetic or non-ascetic character; of his attitude for or against Samaritans; of his thaumaturgic principles; of the universality or selectness of the salvation he brings; of his attitude towards the Roman power, towards divorce, towards the Scribes and Pharisees, and so on. Up to the point of the establishment of something like a Canon, the longer the cult lasted, the greater would be the variety of the teaching. Different views of the descent and character of the Messiah, put forward by Davidists and non-Davidists, Nazarites and non-Nazarites, Jews and Samaritans, would all tend to find currency, and all would tend to find a place in the scroll of some group, whence they could ill be ousted by any "Catholic" movement. Still later, definitely anti-Jewish matter is grafted piecemeal by Gentile adherents: the "good Samaritan" is an impeachment of Jewish character; and the legendary apostles are progressively belittled--notably so in the mystery play which finally supersedes the earlier accounts of the Tragedy. That such a general process actually took place is of necessity admitted by the biographical school, their problem consisting in delimiting the amount of tradition which they can plausibly claim as genuine. From the point of that delimitation they posit a process of doctrinal and other myth-making. The decision now claimed is that there is no point of scientific delimitation, and that the process which they carry forward from an arbitrarily fixed point must logically be carried backwards. No more general or more far-reaching result can be reached by a mere collation and analysis of the synoptics on purely documentary lines--a process which has gone on for a century without even a documentary decision. The conclusion forced upon Schmiedel, even on the assumption of the historicity of Jesus, that none of the current theories of gospel-composition can meet the problem, [378] becomes part of the case of the myth-theory. The assumption that a "source," once established, gives a historic foundation, is no more tenable in this than in any other case of a challenged myth; and the current methods of establishing sources, rooted as they are in the assumption of historicity, are often quite arbitrary even when they profess to follow documentary tests. Nevertheless, the normal pressure of criticism is seen driving champions of the priority of Mark to the confession that Mark not only contains late additions but is in itself a secondary or tertiary document, pointing to an earlier Mark, an Ur-Markus. The primary flaw in the process is the habit of looking to an author rather than at a compilation; and this habit roots in the assumption of historicity. At no point can we be sure whether we are reading a transcript of oral lore or a redaction. Granting that Mark has pervading peculiarities of diction which suggest one hand, we are still not entitled to say that such peculiarities would not be adopted by a redactor. Again, as against the relative terseness or simplicity of a number of passages which suggest an earlier form, we have many which by their relative diffuseness admittedly suggest deliberate elaboration. [379] And if we are to ask ourselves what was likely to be the method of an early evangelist, how shall we reconcile the "in the stern, asleep on the cushion" (iv, 38) with the absolute traditionalism and supernaturalism of the first chapter? John, "clothed with camel's hair," is simply a duplicate of Elijah. [380] Is one realistic detail to pass for personal knowledge when the other is sheer typology? In the opening chapter, Jesus comes as the promised "Lord," is prophesied of by John as the Coming One, is hailed by God from heaven as his beloved son, sees the heavens rent asunder and the Spirit descending as a dove, fasts forty days in the wilderness, is ministered to by angels, calls on men to follow him at his first word, proceeds to give marvellous teaching of which not a word is preserved, is hailed by a demoniac as the Holy One of God, expels a devil, cures a fever instantaneously, heals a multitude, casts out many devils, who know him, goes through the synagogues of Galilee, casting out devils and preaching, cures a leper instantaneously, commands secrecy, is disobeyed, and is then flocked-to by more multitudes. And we are invited to believe that we are reading the biography of a real man, who always speaks to Jews as one Jew to another, and is "not too bright and good for human nature's daily food." And the confident champion of this biographical theory assures us that we "need not doubt" that Jesus was a "successful exorcist." § 2. Schmiedel's Tests Either the first chapter of Mark is primordial gospel-writing or it is not. If it is, the biographical theory is as idle as those ridiculed by Socrates in the Phædrus. If it is not, upon what does the biographical theory found? The details of "mending their nets" and "in the boat with the hired servants"? Professor Schmiedel, conscious of the unreality of such narrative, falls back upon nine selected texts, seven of them in Mark, which he claims as "pillars" of a real biography of Jesus, [381] on the score that they present him as (a) flouted in his pretensions or (b) himself disclaiming deity, or (c) declining to work wonders, or (d) apparently denying a miracle story, or (e) crying out to God on the cross that he is forsaken. Now, of all such texts, only b and e types can have any such evidential force as Schmiedel ascribes to them. [382] Type a counts for nothing: not only the suffering Saviour-Gods but Apollo and Arês, to say nothing of Hephaistos, Hêrê, and Aphroditê, are flouted in the pagan literature which treats them as Gods. If to quote "he is beside himself" is to prove historicity, why not quote the taunts to Jesus in the fourth gospel, nay, the crucifixion itself? In his able and interesting work on The Johannine Writings, Schmiedel carefully developes the thesis that the Johannine Jesus is an invented figure, conceived from the first as supernatural; and he puts among other things the notable proposition that when Jesus weeps it is implied by the evangelist that he does so not out of human sympathy, but "simply because they [the kinsfolk of Lazarus] did not believe in his power to work miracles." [383] Assuming for the argument's sake that this is a true interpretation, we are driven to ask how the thesis consists with that of the "pillar texts." The Johannine writer starts with a supernatural Jesus, yet not only represents his attached personal friends as not believing in his power to work miracles but describes Jesus as weeping because of their unbelief. Nothing in Mark is for moderns more incongruous with a supernaturalist view of Jesus, yet Schmiedel sees no difficulty in believing that the Johannine writer could deliberately frame the incongruity. Why then should even an original author of Mark be held to regard Jesus as mortal because in Mark he is flouted, or declines to work wonders, or is unable to do so at Nazareth? If one writer can represent the Eternal Logos as weeping from chagrin, why should not the other think him God even when he cries out that God has forsaken him? And if, finally, the cry is held to cite Psalm xxii, 1, and to imply the triumphant conclusion of that psalm, what value has the passage for the critic's purpose? An unbiassed criticism will of course recognize that the "Jesus wept" may be an interpolation, for it is admitted that the Greek words rendered "groaned in the spirit" may mean "was moved with indignation in the spirit"; and, yet again, Martha is represented (xi, 22) as avowing the belief that "even now" Jesus can raise Lazarus by the power of God. Nay, the whole story may be an addition, not from the pen of the writer who makes Jesus God. But equally the incongruities in Mark may come of interpolation. A fair inference from the characteristics of that document is that parts of it, notably the first dozen paragraphs, represent a condensation of previously current matter, while others are as plainly expansive; and even if these diversely motived sections be from the same hand, interpolations might be made in either. In reply to my argument [384] that texts in which Jesus figures as a natural man would at most represent only Ebionitic views, Professor Schmiedel puts the perplexing challenge, concerning the Ebionites:--"Were they not also worshippers of Jesus as well? Were they really men of such wickedness that they sought to bring the true humanity of Jesus into acceptance by falsifying the Gospels? And if they were, was it in their power to effect this falsification with so great success?" [385] I cannot think that Dr. Schmiedel, who is invariably candid, has thought out the positions here taken up. The point that the Ebionites were "worshippers" of Jesus is surely fatal to his own thesis. "Worshippers" could in their case go on worshipping while maintaining that the worshipped one was a mortal. Then to assert that he avowed himself a mortal was not inconsistent with "worship." But the challenge obscures the issue; and it is still more obscured when the Professor goes on to ask: "Had they [the Ebionites] no predecessors in this view of his person? Must we not suppose that precisely the earliest Christians, the actual companions of Jesus--supposing Him really to have lived--were their predecessors?" This argument, the Professor must see, has small bearing on my position. Three questions are involved, from the mythological point of view: first, whether actual believers in an alleged divinity could represent him as flouted, humiliated, or temporarily powerless; second, whether the Ebionitic view of Jesus can be accounted for otherwise than as the persistence of a proto-Christian view, arising among the immediate adherents of a man Jesus; third, whether in the second century Jesuists of Ebionitic views could invent, and insert in the gospels, sayings of or concerning Jesus which were meant to countervail the belief in his divinity. On the first head, the answer is, as aforesaid, that throughout all ancient religion we find derogatory views of deity constantly entertained, at different stages of culture, without any clear consciousness of incongruity. Yahweh in the Old Testament "repents" that he made man; wrangles with Sarah; and is unable to overcome worshippers of other Gods who have "chariots of iron." Always he is a "jealous" God; and at a later stage he is alleged to be consciously thwarted by the Israelites when they insist on having a king. These are all priest-made stories. Among the early Greeks, the Gods are still less godlike. In Homer, Athênê is almost the only deity who is treated with habitual reverence: the others are so constantly satirized, humanized, thwarted, or humiliated, that it is difficult to associate reverence, in our sense, with the portrayal at all. The statement of Arno Neumann that "it is impossible (here every historian will agree) for one who worships a hero to think and speak in such a way as to contradict or essentially modify his own worship" [386] is an astonishingly uncritical pronouncement, which simply ignores the main mass of ancient religious literature. As regards the Demigods in particular it belongs to the very nature of the case that they should be at times specially thwarted and reviled by mortals, since it is their fate to die, albeit to rise again. If, then, sayings were once invented which fastened human limitations upon the Divine One for the Jesuists, there was nothing in the psychology of worshippers on their intellectual plane that should make them pronounce such sayings forgeries. As we have seen, even in the fourth gospel, which puts the Divine One higher than ever, he is made, on Professor Schmiedel's own view, to weep for sheer chagrin. § 3. Tendential Tests More complex is the second question, as to how the Ebionite view of Jesus emerged. But the answer has already been indicated in terms of the myth-theory. And the question really cannot be answered on the biographical view, for the canonical documents give no hint [387] of a persistence of a "human" view among the early Christists as against a "divine" one. The Judaizers are represented equally with the Paulinists as making Jesus "Lord"; and it is on the Paulinist side that we hear of adherents who do not believe in the resurrection. That is really a divergence from the Judaistic view, for Jews in general accepted immortality. The moment, however, we put the hypothesis of a primitive cult of a Saviour-God whose sacrifice in some way benefits men, and whose Sacrament is the machinery of that benefit, we account for all the varieties of Jesuism known to us. The cult was primordially Semitic, a thing on the outskirts of later Judaism, which would be Judaized in so far as it came under Jewish influence, and then theologically re-cast for Gentilism by Gentilizing Jews. Thus there would be Judaistic Ebionites, and Jesuists such as those taught by the Didachê, who would insist on connecting Jesus only with the Eucharist, making him a subordinate figure, upon whose legend were slowly grafted moral teachings. On the other hand there would be non-Jewish Jesuists who valued the Sacrament as they and others valued those of Paganism, counting on magical benefits from it (as "Catholics" in general did for many centuries), but making light of the Jewish future life. The one thing in common was the primordial sacrament, at once Jewish and non-Jewish. For Jews it would easily connect with the belief in immortality, already much connected with Messianism; for Gentiles who accepted the former belief, it would be still more easily connected with a doctrine of future individual salvation. All is broadly intelligible on the myth-theory. On the biographical theory, the Jesuists of the Didachê are as inexplicable as the Gentile Jesuists who denied a future life, or the Docetists who denied that Jesus had come in the flesh. Given such Jewish Jesuists, and given Docetism, the invention of sayings and episodes in which Jesus is thwarted or flouted, or disavows Godhood, is perfectly simple. Why Professor Schmiedel should raise the question of "wickedness" in this connection I cannot divine. On his own showing, the invention of sayings and episodes was normal among the Christists in general; and it affected all of the synoptics. Does he impute "wickedness" to the author of the fourth gospel, whom he represents as inventing discourses and episodes systematically? The Ebionites and Docetists had as much right to invent as any one else; and once their inventions were current, they stood a fair chance of being embodied in a gospel or gospels by reason of the general incapacity of the Christists for critical reflection. From the biographical standpoint, the Ebionites and their counterparts the Nazaræans are indeed enigmatic. It is important to have a clear view of what is known as to both sects. [388] Origen, noting that the Hebrew name of the former means "the poor," angrily implies that it was given to them as describing their poverty of mind, [389] but leaves open the rational inference that the name originally described their chosen social status, which connected with a belief in the speedy end of the world. In his book Against Celsus, [390] he tells that they include believers in the Virgin Birth and deniers of it. Here arises the surmise that the former were the socii Ebionitarum mentioned by Jerome, who diverged from Judaic views, and may have been of the general cast of the Nazaræans. [391] These bodies constituted the mass of the Christians in Judæa in the second century. According to the ecclesiastical tradition, the church of Jerusalem had withdrawn during the siege to Pella and the neighbouring region beyond the Jordan. In the reign of Hadrian, after the revolt and destruction of the Messiah Bar-Cochab, who had attempted to rebuild the temple, the new Roman city of Ælia Capitolina was built on the ruins of Jerusalem; and in that no Jews were permitted to dwell. Only those Christians who renounced Judaic usages, then, could enter; and a number of such Christians, Jew and Gentile, did so. Others, probably including both Ebionites and Nazaræans, remained at Pella, and these appear to have furnished the types of heresy discussed by Irenæus, Origen, Jerome, and Epiphanius under the head of Ebionism. Those who set up in Jerusalem were in the way of substituting for "voluntary poverty" a propaganda and organization which meant comfort. Those who stayed behind would represent the primitive type. Now, neither Ebionism nor Nazaræanism offers any semblance of support for the biographical view. Some Ebionites denied the Virgin Birth; some, presumably the Nazaræans in particular, accepted it, the latter being described as accepting the canonical Matthew (or a Hebrew gospel nearly equivalent) with the present opening chapters, while the Ebionites had a Matthew without them. Of the two views, neither testified to any impression made by a "personality." The Virgin Birth myth is a reversion to universal folk-lore by way of enlarging the supernaturalist claim: the Ebionite denial is either a rejection of all purely human claim for Jesus or only supernaturalism with a difference, inasmuch as it inferribly posits a divinization of the Founder either at the moment of his baptism or at his anointing. His "personality" is the one thing never heard of in the discussion, so far as we can trace it. In one account, "the" Ebionites are said to have alleged that Christ became so because he perfectly fulfilled the law, and that they individually might become Christs if they fulfilled it as perfectly. [392] Ebionites and Nazaræans between them, on the biographical view, let slip all knowledge of the Sacred Places, of Golgotha, of the place of the Sepulchre. If it be asked how, on the biographical view, there came to be Jewish Jesuists of the Ebionite type, men such as those described by Justin Martyr and his Jewish antagonist Trypho, believing in a Jesus "anointed by election" who thus became Christ, but adhering otherwise to Judaic practices, [393] what is the answer? What idea, what teaching, had Jesus left them? The notion which seems to have mainly differentiated Ebionites from Jews was simply that Jesus had been the Messiah, and that his Second Coming would mean the end of the world. Expectation of the Second Coming would at once promote and be promoted by poverty, which would thus have a special religious significance. Nazaræans, on the other hand, were latterly marked by a general opposition to the Pharisees. [394] But this could perfectly well be a simple development of sectarianism. If it be claimed as a result of the teaching of Jesus, what becomes of the other teaching as to the love of enemies? Which species of teaching is supposed to have represented the "personality"? Given a general hostility between Nazaræans and Pharisees, the ascription of anti-Pharisaic teachings to the Master would have been in the ordinary way of all Jewish doctrinal propaganda. In so far as they acclaimed sincerity and denounced formalism, they are intelligible as part of a general revolt against Judaic legalism. Nazaræans would invent anti-Pharisaic teachings just as they or "Catholics" would invent pro-Samaritan teachings. And in so far as the Ebionites resisted the assimilation of fresh supernaturalist folk-lore they would tend to put appropriate sayings in the mouth of the Master just as did the others. They are expressly charged not only with inventing a saying [395] in denunciation of sacrifices, by way of sanctifying their vegetarianism, which was presumably an aspect of their poverty, but of tampering in various ways with their texts. [396] This is precisely what the gospel-makers in general did; and to impeach the Ebionites in particular is merely to ignore the general procedure. When, then, we say that Ebionites might well invent a saying in which the Master was made to repudiate Godhood, and that such a saying might find its way into many manuscripts, as did other passages from their Hebrew gospel, it is quite irrelevant to raise questions of "wickedness" and of "worship." But it is important here to note the point, insisted on by Professor W. B. Smith, that most of Professor Schmiedel's "pillar" texts could be framed with no thought of lowering the status of Jesus, while some, on the contrary, betray the motive of discrediting the Jews. The story of Jesus' people (hoi par' autou, not "friends" as in our versions) saying "He is beside himself" (Mk. iii, 21), is simply a Gentile intimation that even among his own kin or associates he was treated as a madman. The idea is exactly the same as that of the story in the fourth gospel, that "the Jews" said he "had a devil" and was a Samaritan. Similarly "tendential" is the avowal (Mk. vi, 5) that at Nazareth the wonder-worker "could do no mighty work ... and he marvelled because of their unbelief." Healing in other texts is declared to depend on faith; and to call the people of Nazareth unbelievers was either to explain why Jesus of Nazareth there had no following or to emphasize the point that the Jews had rejected the Lord. Such a doctrine, again, as that of Mt. xii, 31, that blasphemy against the Son of Man was pardonable, was perfectly natural at a stage at which the cult was seeking eagerly for converts. Had not Peter, in the legend, denied his Lord with curses, and Paul persecuted the Church to the death? In other cases, the bearing of Professor Schmiedel's texts is so much a matter of arbitrary interpretation that the debate is otiose; and in yet others there are insoluble questions of text corruption. The thesis that any text "could not have been invented," and must infer the existence of a teacher regarded as mortal, is so infirm in logic that it is not surprising to find it regarded with bitter dislike by the orthodox, transparently honest as is Professor Schmiedel's use of it. There is really more force in his argument [397] that the predictions of the immediate re-appearance of the Christ after "the tribulation of those days" could not have been invented long after the fall of Jerusalem, the apparent impulse being rather to minimize them. They may perfectly well have been predictions made at the approach of danger by professed prophets. But it does not in the least follow that they were made by one answering to the description of the gospel Jesus, predicting his own Second Coming, though some one may have so prophesied. Any Messiah would be "the Lord"; and the gospel predictions as to false Christs tell of "many" Messiahs, every one of whom would speak as "the Lord." Such utterances, after a little while, could no more be discriminated by the Christists than the certainly pre-Christian sayings put by their propagandists in the mouth of Jesus. And, once a prediction had been written down, it lived by the tenure of uncertainty that attached to all prediction among blind believers. When one "tribulation" had apparently passed without a Second Coming, there was nothing for it but to look forward to the next. After generations of expectation, the early eschatology of the Church became a burden to its conductors, inasmuch as expectation of the end of the world made for disorder, and neglect of industry; and Second Thessalonians was written to explain away previous predictions of imminent ending. After the whole mass of such prediction had been falsified by ages of continuance, there was still no critical reaction, simply because religious belief excludes the practice of radical criticism. To this day, orthodoxy has no rational account to give of the pervading doctrine of the New Testament as to the speedy end of the world. The biographical school finds in it a measure of support for its belief in a real Jesus, who shared the delusions of his age. But as that explanation equally applies to all men in the period, it gives the biographical view no standing as against the myth-theory. Christian prophets spoke for "the Lord" just as Jewish prophets did before them. In this connection, finally, it has to be noted that Professor Schmiedel finds an à priori authenticity in a prediction in which Jesus claims supernatural status, though the ostensibly unhistorical character of such claims was his avowed ground for positing the "pillar-texts" which alone defied all skepticism. And the formula in both cases is the same--"it could not have been invented." [398] The major premiss involved is: "No passage could be invented which would stultify the position of the believers." But do none of the admitted inventions [399] in the gospels stultify the position of the believers? The two genealogies do; the anti-Davidic passages stultify these; the pro-Samaritan teaching stultifies the anti-Samaritan; and so on through twenty cases of contradiction. M. Loisy, indeed, claims the pro-Samaritan passage as genuine: does he then admit the anti-Samaritan to be spurious? The biographical school cannot have it both ways. The very fact that they have to oust so many passages on the score of incompatibility is the complete answer to the plea of "genuine because unsuitable to the purposes of the propaganda." The fact that a multitude of contradictions are left standing proves simply that when once an awkward passage was installed it was nearly impossible to get rid of it; because some copies were always left which retained it; and in the stage of increasing respect for the written word it was generally restored. The "Jesus" before Barabbas was at last ejected only because everybody recoiled from it. Predictions were not so easily dropped. On the page on which he claims that Jesus' prediction of his Second Coming could not have been invented, Professor Schmiedel avows that various passages in Mt. xxiv really belong to "a small composition, perhaps Jewish, on the signs of the end of the world, written shortly before the destruction of Jerusalem in the year 70." If the one set of passages are borrowed, why not the other? Was it unlikely that Jewish eschatologists should predict the coming of the Son of Man at the near end of the world, and that Jesuists should put the prediction in the mouth of their Lord and make him say it of himself? The à priori negative is quite untenable. While, then, the argument from unsuitableness is logically barred for the biographical school by their own frequent rejection of passages on the score of incompatibility, no aspect or portion of the New Testament supplies a conclusive argument against the mythological view. The whole constitutes an intelligible set of growths from the point of view of the myth-theory; and from no other is the medley explicable. A biographical theory, having posited a Messiah whose Messianic claim is a mystery, a Teacher whose alleged teachings are a mass of conflicting tendencies, and whose disciples admittedly have no Messianic gospel till after his inexplicable execution, following on an impossible trial, may make the assumption that by way of popular myth he was then fortuitously deified by Messianist Jews, and later transformed by other Jews into a Saviour for Gentiles; but the biographical theory cannot even pretend to account for the Apocalypse and the Didachê; and it has to renounce its own ground principle of "personality" in order to assimilate the Epistles. On critical principles, assent must go to the theory which explains things, reducing the otherwise inexplicable to a natural evolution on the known lines and bases of hierology. § 4. Historic Summary We may now bring together in one outline the series of inductive hypotheses by which we seek to recover the natural evolution of the historic cult. 1. A primitive Semitic sacramental cult, whose sacrament centres in a slain Saviour-God, a Jesus, who has assimilated to an abstraction of the victim annually sacrificed to him--as in the case of the cults of Adonis and Attis, both also Asiatic. Of the sacrificial rite, which in the historic cult is embodied in the Last Supper and the dramatized story of the Passion, the memory was preserved in particular by a Jewish rite of Jesus Barabbas, Jesus the Son of the Father, in which a victim goes through a mock coronation, ending latterly, perhaps, in a mock-execution, where once there had been an actual human sacrifice. 2. This cult, with its sacrament, existed sporadically in various parts of Asia Minor, whence it spread to Greece and Egypt. Its forms would vary, and under Jewish control the sacrificial sacrament tended to be reduced to a Eucharist or thankoffering in which the "body and blood" are only vaguely, if at all, reminiscent of the Divine One's death. As a God can always be developed indefinitely out of a God-Name, and personal Gods are historically but conceptual aggregates shaped round names or functions, the adherents of this could proselytize like others. When the Temple of Jerusalem fell in the year 70, the adherents of the cult there had a new opportunity and motive, which some of them actively embraced, to cut loose from the Judaic basis and proclaim a religion of universal scope, freed from Judaic trammels and claims. Economic motives played a considerable part in the process. 3. The first tendency of the new Jewish promoters had been to develop the Saviour-God of the sacramental rite (which they may at this stage have adopted in its "pagan" form, now taken as canonical) into a Messiah who was to "come again," introducing the Jewish "kingdom of heaven." At a later stage they adopted the rite of baptism, traditionally associated with John, whom they represented as a Forerunner of the Messiah who had met, baptized, and acclaimed him, playing the part assigned by Jewish prophecy to Elias. 4. As time passed on, such a cult would of necessity die out among Jews, in default of the promised "Second Coming." The connection of the idea of salvation with a future life for all believers, Jew or Gentile, gave it a new and larger lease of life throughout the Roman Empire, in every part of which there were Asiatics. But the Jewish doctrine of the Second Coming remained part of the developed teaching. 5. Further machinery was accordingly necessary to spread and sustain the cult; and this was spontaneously provided by (a) developments of the early and simple propagandist organization, and (b) provision for the needs of the poor, who among the Gentiles as among the Jews were the natural adherents of a faith promising the speedy closing of the earthly scene. Richer sympathizers won esteem by giving their aid; but the poor, as always, helped each other. The propaganda included the services of travelling "prophets," and "apostles" who would be the natural compilers and inventors of Jesuine lore. The administrative organization, framed on Hellenistic lines, put more and more power in the hands of the bishop, whose interest it was to develop his diocese. At first the "prophets" and "apostles" were strictly peripatetic, being called upon to avoid the appearance of mercenariness. In course of time they were enabled to settle down, being systematically provided for. 6. Under the hands of this organization grew up the Christian Sacred Books, which gave the cult its footing as against, or rather alongside of, the Jewish, which in the circumstances had an irresistible and indispensable prestige. Thus on the literary side the Jewish influence overlaid the non-Jewish, assimilating the outside elements of scattered Jesuism. The earliest literature is Jewish, as in the case of the Didachê, or a Jewish-Jesuist manipulation of outside Semitic matter, as in the Apocalypse. On these foundations are laid "Christian" strata. 7. The Didachê ("Teaching of the Twelve Apostles of the Lord") was primarily a brief manual of monotheistic and moral instruction used by the Twelve Apostles of the Jewish High Priest. To this, Jesuist matter was gradually added. The result was that "Twelve Apostles" became part of the Christian tradition; and they had ultimately to be imposed on the gospel record, which obviously had not originally that item. 8. The Epistles represent a polemic development, perhaps on the basis of a few short Paulines. That of James, which has no specific "Christian" colour, represents Judaic resistance, in the Ebionite temper of "voluntary poverty," to the Gentilizing movement. The Paulines carry on doctrinal debate and construction against the Judaistic influence. The synoptic gospels, which in their present forms were developing about the same time, reflect those struggles primarily in anti-Samaritan and pro-Samaritan pronouncements, both ascribed to Jesus. Primarily the gospels are Judaic, and the Gentilizing movement had naturally not employed them. Paul is made in effect to disclaim their aid. In time they are adopted and partly turned to anti-Judaic ends. 9. The chief Gentile achievement in the matter is the development of the primitive sacrament-motive and ritual (fundamentally dramatic) into the mystery-play which is transcribed in the closing chapters of Matthew and Mark. Previous accounts of the foundation of the Sacrament and the death of the Lord are now superseded by a vivid though dramatically brief narrative in which the Jewish people are collectively saddled with the guilt of his death and the Roman government is crudely and impossibly exonerated. The apostles in general are made to play a poor part; one plays an impossible rôle of betrayer; and the legendary Judaizing apostle is made to deny his Master. The whole story is thoroughly unhistorical, from the triumphal Entry to the quasi-regal crucifixion; but it embodied the main ritual features of the traditional human sacrifice, and, there being simply no biographical record to compete with it, it held its ground. The mystery-play in its complete form was inferribly developed and played in a Gentile city; and its transcription probably coincided with its cessation as a drama. But the Sacrament was long a quasi-secret rite. 10. The picture drawn in the Acts, in which Peter and Paul alike "turn to the Gentiles"--Peter taking the initiative--is the work of a late and discreet redactor, bent on reconciling Jewish and Gentile factors. It is a highly factitious account of early Christism; but it preserves traces of the early state of things, in which no Jesuine teaching was pretended to be current, and the cult is seen to exist in a scattered form independently of the central propaganda. It evidently had a footing in Samaria. The synoptics themselves reveal the absence of baptism from the early procedure of the cult. Only in the latest of the four canonical gospels is it pretended that either Jesus or his disciples had baptized. 11. The fourth gospel is only one more systematic step in the process of myth-making. The biographical school, in giving this up as unhistorical, in effect admits that the "personality" of the alleged Teacher had been so ineffectual as to admit of a successful interposition of a new and thoroughly mythical figure, entirely supernatural in theory, but more "impressive" as a speaking and quasi-human personage. The "Logos" of John is again an adaptation of a Jewish adaptation of a pagan conception, the doctrine of the Logos set forth by the Alexandrian Jew Philo having come through Greek and Eastern channels. [400] There was no critical faculty in the early Church that could secure its rejection, though it was somewhat slow of acceptance. The doctrine of the Trinity is again an assimilation from paganism, proximately Egyptian. [401] Such, in outline, is our working hypothesis. As explained at the outset, it is not supposed that so complex a problem can in so brief a space and time be conclusively solved; and criticism will doubtless involve modification when criticism is scientifically applied. To such scientific criticism the production of a complete outline may be an aid; previous debate, even when rational in temper, having been spent on some of the "trees" without regard to the "wood" in general. All that is claimed for the complete hypothesis is that it is at all points inductively reached, and that for that reason it squares better with the whole facts than any form of the biographical theory--including the highly attenuated "eschatological" form in which Jesus is conceived solely as a proclaimer of "the last things." That thesis, indeed, reduces the biographical theory to complete nullity by leaving the mass of the record without any explanation save the mythical one, which suffices equally to account for eschatology. CHAPTER VIII SUPPLEMENTARY MYTH § 1. Myths of Healing It is significant that the later myth-making of the synoptics is partly by way of reversion to the folk-lore in which the myth had risen, partly by way of meeting non-Jewish Messianic requirements, partly by way of Gentilism, partly by way of concessions to the Gnosticism or occultism whose pretensions in the second century exercised so strong a pressure on the Church. As Professor Smith points out, the story in Mark (xiv, 51-52) of the youth who at the betrayal fled naked, leaving his linen cloth in the hands of the captors, [402] is a crude provision for the Docetic theory that the real Christ did not suffer. Cerinthus taught that "at last Christ departed from Jesus, and that then Jesus suffered and rose again, while Christ remained impassible, inasmuch as he was a spiritual being." [403] In this connection there arises for us the problem, stressed by Professor Smith, as to the significance of the stories of wholesale healing and casting out of devils. His thesis is that they were an occult way of conveying the claim that Jesus by preaching monotheism had cast out in Galilee the diseases and corruptions of polytheism, pagan deities being "devils" for the Jew. And in view of the repeated assertion, on Gnostic lines, that Jesus declared his teaching to be made purposely occult, so as not to be understood by the people, we cannot deny the possibility that some of the stories of healing may have been so intended. Professor Smith, as I understand him, argues [404] that a straightforward claim of wholesale overthrowing of paganism would have offended the Roman Government; and that the claim was put by metaphor to avoid that. The difficulty arises that if the metaphor was not understood by Gentiles it missed its mark with them; while if they did understand it their susceptibilities would be particularly wounded by the metaphors of leprosy and blindness and "devils." And there is the further difficulty that, as Professor Smith notes, the stories of casting out devils relate solely to half-heathen Galilee, while, as he also notes, there is no ultimate trace of Jesuism there. [405] Why then should an allegory of casting out polytheism have been framed concerning Galilee? On any view, it can hardly be doubted that the stories of healing made their popular appeal as simple miracles. Professor Schmiedel's argument that the claim of Jesus (Mt. xi, 5; Lk. vii, 22) to heal blindness and lameness and leprosy, and to raise the dead, must be understood in a spiritual sense, seems to me a complete failure. He contends that if it be taken literally the final claim that "the poor have the gospel preached to them" is an anti-climax. But if we take the miracle-claims to be merely spiritual, the anti-climax is absolute; for the proposition then runs that the blind, the lame, the leprous, and the spiritually dead have the gospel preached to them, and the poor have the gospel preached to them also. On the other hand, there is no real anti-climax on a literal interpretation. Plainly, the provision of good tidings for the merely poor, the most numerous suffering class of all, was the one thing that could be said to be done for them. It could not be pretended that they had been made wealthy. Thus a "pillar-text" falls, and we are left committed to the literal interpretation as against both Professor Smith and Professor Schmiedel. Both, however, will probably agree that most readers always took the literal view. [406] § 2. Birth-Myths And it was to the popular credulity that appeal was made by the stories of the Annunciation, the Virgin Birth, the Adoration by the Magi and the Shepherds, the stable, the manger, [407] the menace of Herod, the massacre, and the flight. [408] The question that here arises for the mythologist is whether the birth-myths had belonged to the early Jesus-myth at a stage before gospel-making commenced, and had at first been ignored, only to be embodied later. For suggesting that they had been connected with the early myth I have been told by Dr. Carpenter and Dr. Conybeare that I ignored the late acceptance of the Christmas Birthday by "the Church," after I had expressly noted the late date of that acceptance. These critics, as usual, miss the whole problem. Either the birth-stories were old lore in Syria (or elsewhere in the East) [409] or they were not. If not, their imposition on the gospel story in the second century represents an assimilation of quite alien pagan matter, with the assent of the main body of Jewish Nazaræans, who accepted the opening chapters of the canonical Matthew. Of such an assent, no explanation can be given from the standpoint or standpoints of Dr. Conybeare and Dr. Carpenter. It would be a gratuitous capitulation to Gentilism in a Jewish atmosphere, and this without any sign on the Pauline side of a Gentile obtrusion of such matter. [410] But if, on the other hand, we put the hypothesis that such matter had been connected in Syrian folk-lore with the old Jesus-myth, we at once find an explanation for the additions to the gospel-story and a new elucidation of the myth-theory. The spread of the Jesus cult would bring to the front the primitive myths connected with it which the reigning Judaic sentiment had at first kept out of sight as savouring of heathenism; and all Jesus-lore would have a progressive interest for converts. Judaism, in its redacted sacred books, admitted of quasi-supernatural births in such cases as those of Sarah and Hannah; but an absolute virgin birth, a commonplace in heathen mythology, [411] had there no recognition. Yet the idea was as likely to survive in folk-lore in Syria as anywhere else; and as Judaism became more and more a hostile thing, Judaic views would tend in various ways to be set aside. The hypothesis put by me is (1) that the certainly unhistorical Miriam of the Pentateuch is inferribly, like Moses and Joshua, an ancient deity; and that in old Palestinian myth she was the mother of Joshua. In the Pentateuch she is degraded, as part of the Evemeristic process of reducing the ancient popular Gods to human status. That process, which affects Goddesses as well as Gods in several ancient religions, [412] was for the Hebrew priesthood a necessary rule. Polytheism was everywhere, in antiquity, and for the Yahwists it must be cast out. A late Persian tradition that Joshua was the son of Miriam [413] accents the query whether there were no family relationships in the old Palestinian myths. That the birth in a stable, with a ritual of babe-worship at the winter or summer solstice, is very ancient both in the East and in the West, is the conclusion forced on the mythologist by a mass of evidence; and the location of the stable at Bethlehem in a cave connects the Christian myth yet further with a number of those of paganism. [414] If the matter of the myth was ancient for Syria, why should not the names of the mother and the child be so? The fashion in which the hypothesis is met by the more impassioned adherents of the biographical view is instructive. Dr. Conybeare, who thinks it inconceivable that "a myth" should be mistaken for "a man"--though that mistake is the gist of masses of mythology--finds no difficulty in conceiving that a real woman may be turned into a myth within a century. For him, the gospel "Mary" (Maria or Mariam) must be a real Jewess because in Mark (vi, 3) the people of Nazareth ask: "Is not this the carpenter, the son of Mary, and brother of James, and Joses, and Judas, and Simon? and are not his sisters with us?" Any thoughtful reader, comparing such a suddenly projected passage with the opening chapters, realizes that it is on a wholly different plane of ideas; that no one "author" can have posited both; and that the later is part of a process of localization and debate, in connection with the thesis that the healer could "do no wonder-work" at home because of the unbelief of his own people. Furthermore, in Mark xv, 40, we have the group of women which includes "Mary the mother of James the Little and of Joses," concerning whom we are told that when Jesus was in Galilee they "followed him, and ministered unto him." How many Maries, then, were mothers of James and Joses? Evidently the Mary of the latter passage is not regarded by its writer as the mother of Jesus. Then the prior passage is the later in order of time, and alien to the other legends. Our exegete, nevertheless, is not only at once dogmatically certain that he has found a real Jesus, son of Mary, but proceeds to assert, in three separate passages, that in Mark's gospel Jesus is known as "the son of Joseph and Mary," though Joseph is never mentioned in that gospel. It is of a piece with his instantaneous invention of a "genuine tradition" out of a modern hint, perverted. And it is this operator who, meeting with a list of analogies (so described) which suggest that "Miriam" and "Mariam" are variants of a Mother-Goddess name generally current through the East, becomes incoherent in explosive protest, and begins by informing me that the "original form of the name is not Maria but Miriam, which does not lend itself to [these] hardy equations." As Miriam had been expressly named and discussed by me in the very first instance, the intimation tells only of the mental disconnection which is the general mark of this writer's procedure. The question, of course, is not philological at all; and not only was no philological "equation" ever hinted at, but the very passage attacked begins with the avowal that it is impossible to prove historical connections, and that what is in question is analogy of "name and epithets." Nothing in philology is more speculative than the explanation of early names. Any one who has noted the discussion over "Moses," and noted the diverging theories, from the Coptic "water-rescued" or "water-child" (mo-use) of Josephus and Philo and Jablonski and Deutsch to the Egyptian "child" (mes or mesu) of Lepsius and Dillmann, and the inference of an "abbreviation of a theophorous Egyptian name" drawn by Renan and Guthe, will see that there is small light to be had from "equations." When "Miriam" is expertly described as "a distortion either of Merari [misri] or of Amramith," [415] the mythologist is moved to seek for other clues. The philology of Maria and Mariam is a hopeless problem. Now, if the Moses legend is to be held Egyptian, the Miriam legend may well be so too; and in the items that the Egyptian princess who saves the child Moses is in a Jewish legend named Merris, and that one of the daughters of Ramses II is found to be named Meri, [416] the analogy is worth noting. But the central mythological fact is that a Mother-Goddess, a "Madonna" nursing a child, is one of the commonest objects of ancient worship throughout Asia and North Africa. [417] When, then, mothers of Gods born in caves, or Dying Demigods, are found bearing such names as Myrrha and Maia; when Maia is noted to have the meaning "nurse," and Mylitta that of "the child-bearing one," we are not only moved to surmise a Mother-Goddess-name of many variants, of which Miriam-Mariam is one, but to infer a wide diffusion of legends concerning such a goddess-type. Figures of such a goddess abounded throughout the East. [418] That is, in brief, the mythological case at this point. Mary in the gospels, the virgin bearing a divine child, flying from danger, and bearing her child on a journey, in a cave, is the analogue of a dozen ancient myths of the Divine Child; the Menaced Child is common to the myths of Moses and Sargon, Krishna and Cyrus, Arthur and Herakles; the stable-ritual of the Adoration is prehistoric in India in connection with Krishna; the "manger" (a basket) belongs equally to the myths of Zeus, Hermes, Ion and Dionysos; and the threatening king is a myth-figure found alike in East and West. [419] All this is ostensibly "sun-myth." And we are asked by Dr. Conybeare to believe, on the strength of one late and palpable interpolation in Mark, which has no other word concerning the childhood, parentage, or birthplace of Jesus, its Son of God, that his mother Mary was a well-known figure in Nazareth about the year 30, and that it is merely she who is made to play the mythic part in Matthew about a century later. The simple use of common-sense, even by a reader who has not studied comparative mythology, will reveal the improbability of such a development; and Dr. Conybeare, who vehemently denies, for other purposes, that the early Christians in Palestine could have any knowledge of pagan myths, is the last person who could consistently affirm it. But when we realize that under the shell of official Judaism there subsisted in Palestine as everywhere else the folk-lore of the past; [420] when we remember the "weeping for Tammuz" at Jerusalem and the location of the birth of Adonis in the very stable-cave of the Christ-legend at Bethlehem, we can quite rationally conceive how, once the Jesus-myth was well re-established, old pre-Judaic elements of it came to the front, and found from the later gospel-compilers a welcome they could not have had in the Judaizing days. [421] The Joseph myth, again, is a very obvious construction. In Mark, which Dr. Conybeare repeatedly and shrilly declares to be the primary authority, Joseph is never once mentioned, though Dr. Conybeare, with the eye of imagination, finds that he is. In Matthew, he figures throughout the birth-story of the opening section, admittedly a late addition. In Luke, still later, he is still further developed, Mark's "son of Mary" becoming (iv, 22) "the son of Joseph," in a palpably late fiction. Any critical method worthy of the name would reckon with such plain marks of late fabrication. Joseph has been super-imposed on the myth for a reason; and the reason is that a Messiah "the Son of Joseph" was demanded from the Samaritan side as a Messiah the Son of David was demanded (albeit not universally) from the Judaic side. [422] By naming Jesus' earthly putative father Joseph, in the Davidic descent, both requirements were met, on lines of traditionalist psychology. When this solution is met by the Unitarian thesis that the idea of a Messiah Ben Joseph is late in Judaism, and that it arose out of the gospel story, we can but appeal to the common-sense of the reader. [423] For the Rabbis to set up such a formula on such a motive would be an inconceivable self-stultification. The lateness of Rabbinical discussion on the subject can be quite reasonably explained through its Samaritan origination. All the while, the Joseph story in the gospels belongs precisely to that late legend which the neo-Unitarian school is bound in consistency to reject as myth. But the prepossession in favour of a "human Jesus" balks at no inconsistency, and selects its items not on critical principles but simply in so far as they can be made to compose with a "human" figure that is to be conserved at all costs. The curious myth-motive of the "taxing" [424] at Bethlehem in Luke, an utterly unhistorical episode, has a remarkable parallel in the Krishna-myth, [425] which has been cited in support of the thesis that that myth in general is derived from the Christian story. The general thesis breaks down completely; [426] and in this one instance we are obviously entitled to ask whether the Christian myth is not derived from some intermediate Asiatic source connecting with the Indian. [427] As a mere invention to motive the birth at Bethlehem the story seems exceptionally extravagant. § 3. Minor Myths To discuss in similar detail the myths of the Apocryphal gospels and the still later myths of Catholic Christendom would only be to extend the area of our demonstration without adding to its scientific weight. The general result would only be to prove derivations from pagan sources and to exhibit more fully the process (a) of inventing sayings of Jesus to vindicate different views of his Messianic and other functions, and (b) of enforcing ethical views by his authority. The legend of St. Christopher, for instance, is but a variant, probably iconographic in motive, of a multiform pagan myth which probably roots in a ritual of child-carrying. [428] Iconography yields many evidences. The conventional figure of the Good-Shepherd carrying a sheep, which like the Birth-Story has counted for so much in popularizing Christianity, is admittedly derived from pagan art, [429] like the conventional angel-figure. Even the figure of Peter [430] as the bearer of the keys, head of the Twelve, and denier of his Lord, connects curiously with the myths of Proteus and Janus Bifrons, [431] both bearers of the cosmic keys. Iconography, again, is probably the source, for the gospels, of the myth of the Temptation, which professional scholars continue solemnly to discuss as a "biographical" episode to be somehow reduced to historicity. The story coincides so absolutely with the Græco-Roman account, evidently derived from painting or sculpture, of Pan (in figure the Satan of the Jews) standing by the young Jupiter on a mountain-top before an altar, [432] that it might seem unnecessary to go further. But, recognizing that "of myth there is no 'original,' save man's immemorial dream," and remembering that there are similar Temptation myths concerning Buddha and Zarathustra, we are bound to extend the inquiry. The results are very interesting. We are specially concerned with the versions of Matthew and Luke, of which Dr. Spitta, by analysis, finds the Lucan the earlier, [433] pronouncing the Marcan to be a curtailment and manipulation, not the primary source, as was maintained by Von Harnack and many others. [434] The essence of the story, as episode, is the presence of the God and the Adversary on a high place, surveying "the kingdoms of the world." This originates proximately in Babylonian astronomy and astrology, where the Goat-God is represented standing beside the Sun-God on "the mountain of the world," that is, the height of the heavens, at the beginning of the sun's yearly course in the sign Capricorn, which, personified, figures as the sun's tutor and guide. Graphically represented, it is the origin of a series of Greek myths--Pan and Zeus; Marsyas and Apollo; Silenus and Dionysos--all turning on a goat-legged figure beside a young God on a mountain-top. Satan and Jesus are but another variant, probably deriving from Greek iconography, but possibly more directly from the East, where the idea of a Temptation goes back to the Vedas. The theologians, reluctantly admitting, of late, that the Devil could not carry Jesus through the air, anxiously debate as to whether or not Jesus had strange psychic experiences which he communicated to his disciples; and, utterly ignoring comparative mythology, look for motivation, as usual, only in the Old Testament. Spitta, after checking these researches, and declaring that the man is not to be envied who hopes to explain the story by Old Testament parallels from the forty years of wandering in the wilderness, [435] confidently concludes that it stands for the spiritual experience of Jesus in regard to his Messianic ideal. [436] To such a biographical inference he has not the slightest critical right on his own principles. The gospels say nothing whatever of any communication on the subject by Jesus to his disciples. The story is myth pure and simple, and belongs to universal mythology. Mark turned the story to the illustration of the doctrine laid down in the Testaments of the Twelve Patriarchs, [437] that devils and wild beasts will flee from the righteous man; and Luke and Matthew turn it into an affirmation of the theological maxims of Jewish monotheism; but these are simply the invariable practices of the evangelists, steeped in the habits of thought of Jewish symbolism. The myth remains; and the story, as story, has counted for a great deal more in Christian popular lore than the theology. When the writer of the fourth gospel put the miracle of turning water into wine in the forefront of his work, he doubtless had symbolic intentions; [438] but his story is simply an adaptation of the annual Dionysiac rite of turning water into wine at the festival of the God on Twelfth Night. [439] It may have come either from the Greek or from the eastern side. The duplicated tale of the Feeding of the Five Thousand, again, is either an adaptation of or an attempt to excel the story of the feeding of the host of Dionysos in a waterless desert in his campaign against the Titans. [440] As the God had the power of miraculously producing, by touch, corn and wine and oil, his lore doubtless included miracles of feeding. The touch of the seating of the people "in ranks, by hundreds, and by fifties" (Mk. vi, 40) suggests a pictorial source. Thus did paganism, chased out of the window of early Judaic Christianity, re-enter by all the doors, supplying the growing Church with the forms of psychic and literary attraction which ultimately served to give it a general hold over the ignorant and uncivilized masses of decadent and barbaric Europe. [441] Even with that machinery, the Church was dissolving in universal schism when Constantine saved it--or at least its body--by establishing it. As the Church broadened its basis, especially after its establishment, its assimilation of pagan ideas, names and practices, became so general that the process has long been made a standing ground of Protestant impeachment of the Church of Rome. [442] Middleton's Letter from Rome (1729) may be said to begin the scientific investigation, which is still going on. [443] Of that process the myth-theory is simply the attempted scientific consummation. It is resisted as every previous step was resisted, before and after Middleton, partly in sincere religious conviction, partly on the simple instinctive resentment felt for every "upsetting" theory about matters which men have habitually taken for granted. Some of the best reasoned resistance comes from professional theologians who have been disciplined by the habit of exact argument in the documentary field; some of the worst, as we have seen, comes from professed rationalists or Neo-Unitarians, who bring to the problem first and last the temper of spleen and bluster which history associates with the typical priest. Bluster never settles anything: argument, given free play under conditions which foster the intellectual life, in the end settles everything, even for the emotionalists who worship their instincts. But as historical like physical science is a process of continuous expansion and reconsideration, there can in this contest be no "triumph" for anything but the principle of unending renewal of thought, which is but an aspect of the principle of life. Insofar as the solution now offered is inadequate, it will in due course be improved upon; insofar as it is false, it will be ousted. The average cleric, of course, does not attempt confutation. Realizing that it is prudent to avoid debate on such matters, he relies on the proved proclivity of "human nature" to beliefs which fall-in with habit, normal emotion, and normal religiosity; and his faith is, practically speaking, not ill-grounded. A thesis which looks first and last to scientific truth is therefore not addressed to him. It is addressed to the more earnest of the laity and the clerisy--hardly to those indeed who hold, as an amiable curate once put it to me, that "in the providence of God" all heresy is short-lived; but to those who, caring for righteousness, do not on that score cast out the spirit of truth. Many such are honestly convinced that the teaching on which they have been taught to found their conceptions of goodness cannot be the accretion of a myth; and many who acknowledge an abundance of myth in the documents are still insistent on elements of "religious" truth which they find even in systematic forgeries. The countenance thus given by the more liberal and critical theologians to the more uncritical stands constantly in the way even of the acceptance of the comparatively rational views of the former. [444] There is reason then to ask whether the notion that human conduct is in any way dependent on visionary beliefs is any sounder than those beliefs themselves. On this head, something falls to be said in conclusion. CHAPTER IX CONCLUSION Not only to the myth-theory but to every attempt at ejecting historical falsity from religion there has been offered the objection that religion "does good"; that mankind needs "some religion or other"; and that to "undermine faith" does social harm, even if it be by way of driving out delusion. This position is not at all special to orthodoxy. It was taken up by Middleton; by Kant, when he shaped a "practical" basis for theistic belief after eliminating the theoretic, and counselled unbelieving clergymen to use the Bible for purposes of popular moral education; by Voltaire when he combated atheism after bombarding Christianity; and by Paine when he wrote his Age of Reason to save the belief in God. Insofar as the general plea merely amounts to saying that mankind cannot conceivably give up its traditional religion at a stroke; that liberal-minded priests are better than illiberal, for all purposes; and that in a world dominated by economic need it is impossible for many enlightened clergymen to secure a living save in the profession for which they were trained, I am not at all concerned to combat it. For the liberal priest, enlightened too late to reshape his economic career, I have nothing but sympathy, provided that he in no way hampers the intellectual progress of others. Insofar, again, as the plea for "religion" is merely a plea for a word, or a thesis that all earnest conviction about life is religion, it is quite irrelevant to the present discussion. The rationalists who feel they cannot face the world without the label of "religion" for their theory of the cosmos and of conduct will be in the same position whether they believe in a "historical Jesus" or not; and those who must have a humanist "liturgy" of some sort in place of the ecclesiastical are apparently not troubled by problems of historicity. What we are concerned with is the notion that to deny the historicity of Jesus is somehow to imperil not only ethics but historical science. M. Loisy puts the last point in his suggestion, in criticism of Drews, that he who thinks to break down either all the traditional or the "liberal" orthodoxies by denying the historic actuality of Jesus will find he has "only furnished to their defenders the occasion to persuade a certain not uncultivated public that the divinity of Christ, or at least the unique character of his personality, is as well guaranteed as the reality of his life and his death." [445] Had M. Loisy then forgotten that his own attempts to elide from the documents a number of details which he saw to be mythical have given occasion to the defenders of the faith to assure a not uncultivated public that the disintegration of the gospels destroyed all ground for belief in any part of them? [446] We on this side of the Channel might meet such challenges, grounded on the susceptibilities of the "public," with the demand of our great humorist, Mr. Birrell: "What, in the name of the Bodleian, has the general public got to do with literature? The general public ... has its intellectual, like its lacteal sustenance, sent round to it in carts." [447] But we must not turn the jest to earnest. There are plenty of honest laymen to play the jury; and to them let it be put. The issue between us and M. Loisy, as he virtually admits, must be fought out by argument. It is perfectly true, as he says, that "in principle, nothing is more legitimate, more necessary, than the comparative method; but nothing is more delicate to handle." [448] Every issue, then, must be vigilantly debated. But the obligation is reciprocal. In these inquiries we have found M. Loisy many times in untenable positions, and resorting to inconsistent arguments. The tests which he applies to a mass of tradition are equally destructive to most of what he retains. Let illicit employments of the comparative method be discredited by all means; but let us also have done with a criticism which on one leaf claims that Jesus gave a "homogeneous" teaching which his disciples could not have "combined," and on the next avows that "the gospel ethic is no more consistent than the hope of the kingdom." [449] And when the myth-theorists are called upon to make no unwarranted assumptions, let us also have an end of such assertions as that "twenty-five or thirty years after the death of Jesus the principal sentences and parables of which the apostolic generation had kept memory were put in writing." [450] This is pure hypothesis, unsupported by evidence. The issue between us and M. Loisy, once more, is not one in which merely he assails the myth-theory as outgoing its proofs: it is one in which his positions are at the same time assailed all along the line, and particularly at its centre, as incapable of resisting critical pressure. By all means let us seek that "the science of religion should be applied without preoccupations of contemporary propaganda or polemic." The present writer reached the myth-theory not by way of propaganda but as a result of sheer protracted failure to establish a presupposed historical foundation. Professor Smith disclaims all criticism of "Christianity." And if Professor Drews be blamed for avowing a religious aim, the answer is that he would otherwise be assailed as "irreligious," alike in his own country and elsewhere. The myth-theory has to meet other foes than M. Loisy. It is remarkable that Professor Schmiedel, who has gone nearly as far as M. Loisy in recognizing in detail the force of the pressures on the historical position, makes the avowal: "My inmost religious convictions would suffer no harm, even if I now felt obliged to conclude that Jesus never lived," [451] though as a critical historian he "sees no prospect of this." He further avows that his religion does not require him "to find in Jesus an absolutely perfect model," and that in effect he does not find him so. [452] And he wrote in 1906 that "for about six years the view that Jesus never really lived has gained an ever-growing number of supporters," [453] adding that "it is no use to ignore it, or to frame resolutions against it." It is accordingly with no kind of polemic motive as against so entirely candid a writer that I suggest certain criticisms of his emotional positions as tending unconsciously to affect his judgment of the critical problem. It is after the avowals above cited that he writes:-- [454] Nor do I ask whether in Jesus' faith and ethical system what he had to offer was new. Was it able to give me something that would warm my heart and strengthen my life?--that is all I ask. What does it matter if one of the ideas of Jesus had been expressed once already in India, another once already in Greece, a third once already, or many times, by the Old Testament prophets, or by the much-praised Jewish Rabbis shortly before the time of Jesus? Such ideas may be found in books: that is all. What we ought to feel grateful to Jesus for, is that he was destined for the first time to make the ideas take effect and influence the lives of mankind in general. It would, I think, be difficult to over-estimate the amount of psychic bias involved in that pronouncement, which contains a theorem no more fitly to be taken for granted than any concrete historic proposition. The Professor, it will be observed, does not specify a single teaching of Jesus as new, while admitting that some were not. What he says is, in effect, that other utterances of Jesuine doctrines do not "warm the heart"; that those of Jesus do; and that they "for the first time" caused certain doctrines to "take effect and influence the lives of mankind in general." What doctrines then are meant, and what effects are posited? And why do other utterances of the doctrines not "warm the heart"? Presumably the doctrines in question are those of mutual love, of forgiveness of enemies, of doing as we would be done by. Concerning the gospel doctrine of reward the Professor makes a disclaimer; and concerning the doctrine that God cares for men as for the lilies and the birds he pronounces that it is "to-day not merely untrue: it is not even religious in the deepest sense of the term." [455] It is not then clear that he would acclaim the doctrine that to help the distressed is to succour the Lord. In any case, the detailed religious prescription of beneficence was not merely a Jewish maxim: it was an article of Egyptian religion; [456] and it can hardly be in respect of such teaching that the Professor affirms a new "influence on the lives of mankind in general." Is it then in respect of mutual love and the forgiveness of enemies? If so, when did the change begin? Among the apostles? Among the Fathers? Among the bishops? Among the Popes? To put the issue broadly, was there more of good human life in Byzantium than in pagan Greece; or even in the Rome of the Decadence and the Dark and Middle Ages than in the Rome of the Republic? Was it because of Christian goodness that the decline of Rome was accelerated instead of being checked? And, to come to our own day, is the World War an evidence for an ethical change wrought by the teaching of Jesus--a war forced on the world by a Germany where there are more systematic students of the gospels than in all the rest of Europe? I leave it to Professor Schmiedel and Professor Drews to settle the point between them. They would perhaps agree--though as to this I am uncertain--on the Jesuine doctrine that morality is "nothing more than obedience to the will of God"; and that "every deed is to be judged by the standard, Will it bear the gaze of God?" [457] In any case I will affirm, for the consideration of those who on any such ground cling to the notion of something unique in the teaching of Jesus, that humanity is likely to make a much better world when it substitutes for such a moral standard, which is but a self-deluding substitution of God for the conscience that delimits God, the principle of goodwill towards men, and the law of reciprocity, articulately known to the mass of mankind millenniums before the Christian era, and all along disobeyed, then as now, partly because religious codes intervene between it and life. [458] If it be admitted--and who will considerately deny it?--that the moral progress of mankind is made in virtue of recognition of the law of reciprocity, the case for the general moral influence of Christianity is disposed of, once for all. If the affirmation be still made, let it confront the challenge of rational sociology, [459] founded on the survey of all history--and the World War. Professor Schmiedel's large affirmation is vain in the face of all that. His real psychic basis, which in my judgment determines his critical presuppositions, lies in the phrase: "warms my heart." And that phrase is a tacit confession of religious partisanship, the result of his Christian training. [460] The more the moral teaching of the gospels is comparatively studied, as apart from their myths of action and dogma, the more clear becomes its entire dependence on previous lore, [461] and its failure even to maintain the level of the best of that. The Sermon on the Mount is wholly pre-Christian. [462] It is a Christian scholar who points out that the Christian doctrine of forgiveness is fully set forth in the Testaments of the Twelve Patriarchs, a century before the Christian era. In his view, those verses [463] "contain the most remarkable statement on the subject of forgiveness in all ancient literature." [464] Why then does it not warm the heart of Professor Schmiedel equally with the doctrine of the gospels? Simply because he was brought up to assign pre-eminence to the teaching of Jesus--God or Man. And here we have, in its fundamental form, that unchecked assumption of "uniqueness" which secretly dictates the bulk of the denials of the myth-theory. Canon Charles explicitly traces the Jesuine teaching to the verses in question: That our Lord was acquainted with them, and that His teaching presupposes them, we must infer from the fact that the parallel is so perfect in thought and so close in diction between them and Luke xvii, 3; Matt. xvii, 15. [465] The meaning of forgiveness in both cases is the highest and noblest known to us.... One puts with diffidence the challenge, Was it then high and noble for the Teacher to give out as his own the teaching of another, instead of acknowledging it? Is it not incomparably more likely, on every aspect of the case, that the older teaching was thus appropriated by gospel-makers bent at once on giving the Divine One a high message and on securing acceptance for it by putting it in his mouth? Is not this the strict critical verdict, apart from any other issue? The bias which balks at such a decision is the sign of the harm done to intellectual ethic by the inculcated presupposition. It ought to "warm the heart" of a good man to realize that the ideas which he has been taught to think the noblest were not the "unique" production of a Superman, but could be and were reached by Jews and Gentiles--for they are Gentile also--whose very names are unknown to us. A doctrine of forgiveness arose in prostrate Jewry precisely because rancour had there reached its maximum. As a doctrine of asceticism rises in a society where license has been at the extreme, so the phenomena of hate breed a recoil from that. The doctrine of non-resistance was current among the Pharisees of the period of the Maccabean revolt; and the Testaments of the Patriarchs is the work of a Pharisee. And the gospels have nevertheless taught all Christians to regard the Pharisees collectively, with the Scribes, as a body devoid of all goodness. There is, be it said--not for the first time--a pessimism in the Christian conception of things; a pessimism which denies the element of goodness in man in the very act of ascribing it as a specialty to One, and relying on his "influence" to spread it among men incapable of rising to it for themselves. The story of Lycurgus and Alcander is the best ancient example to the precept, quite transcending that of the good Samaritan, [466] and it is one of the antidotes to the Christian pessimism which stultifies its own parable by denying in effect that The Samaritan could think as ethically as The Jew. It is pessimism, yet again, that accepts the verdict: "Christianity is the truth of humanity." [467] Were it not that Dr. Schmiedel endorses it, I should have been inclined to use a stronger term. This too is myth-making. It would be strange indeed if any depth of truth were sounded by men who had not the first elements of a conscience for truth of statement, truth of history: whose very notion of truth was a production of fiction. The "truth of humanity" is something infinitely wider than the structure raised by the "prophets" and "apostles" of the Jesus-cult, out of pre-existing materials, some two thousand years ago; and humanity will outlive that presentment of its cosmos and its destinies as it has outlived others. If it should carry something of the one with it, so does it from the others--even as the one drew from its predecessors; and it will certainly jettison more than it will keep. I have not noted in the Testaments of the Patriarchs any such nullification of its doctrine of forgiveness as is embodied in the promise of future perdition for Chorazin and Bethsaida, or in the story of Ananias and Sapphira, to say nothing of the Jesuine doctrine of future torment. The hate that breathes in "Ye brood of vipers"; in the continual malediction against Scribes and Pharisees as universally hypocrites, "sons of Gehenna," making their proselytes twice as bad as themselves; and in the Johannine "your father the devil"--all these are "Christian" specialties, turning to naught the Jewish precept of forgiveness. And I can "see no prospect" of a long currency for Professor Schmiedel's panegyric of fictitious sayings in Acts [468] as "of the deepest that can be said about the inner Christian life." If that be so, what amount of profundity goes to the whole construction of the faith? How long is it to be maintained that the secret or inspiration of good life lies in the ideas of men for whom the framing of false history was a pious occupation? The main ethical content of the Christian system, the moral doctrine by which the Church has lived down till the other day, is the ethic-defying doctrine of the redemption of mankind by a blood sacrifice--a survival of immemorial savagery. That is still the specifically "evangelical" view of Christianity. After living by the doctrine through two eras, the slowly civilizing conscience of the Church has itself begun to repudiate it; and we have the characteristic spectacle of its defenders declaring that the very terms of the historic creed form a libel framed by its enemies. Taught at last by human reason that the doctrine of sacrifice is the negation of morality, they pretend that that doctrine is not Christian. Without it, their Church would never have taken its historic form. To eliminate it, they have to suppress half their literature, prose and verse. The accommodations by which the fundamental immorality has been modified in the interests of saner morality are but the dictates of human experience; and these dictates are in turn pretended to be the revelation of the faith that flouted them. Unless the world is again to retrogress collectively in its civilization, this polemic will not long avail to obscure historic issues. It is not merely the "religion" of Professor Drews, it is the emancipated human reason, that denies the mortmain of ancient Syria over the field of ethical thought, and claims the birthright of modern man in his own moral law. Not one day has passed since the penning of the Apocalypse without men's hating each other in the name of Jesus. Wars generations long have been waged for interpretations of the lore. Hatred and malice and all uncharitableness stamp all the Sacred Books; and the literature of the Fathers imports into the dwindling intellectual life of the West all the rancour of battling Judaism. In our own day, Professor Schmiedel is malignantly assailed in the name of the divinity of the figure of which he claims to prove the exemplary humanity, his reasoned argument winning him no goodwill from the supernaturalists. And around him there figure virulent partisans, incapable of his candour, so little capable of love for enemies that they cannot conduct a debate without passion, perversion and insolence. A multitude of those who acclaim the gospel Jesus as the supreme Teacher reveal themselves as below the standards of normal candour. From such pretenders to moral authority, the seeker for truth turns to the layman similarly concerned, and to those professional scholars who are capable of debating without passion, and in good faith. Professor Schmiedel and M. Loisy are still, it is to be hoped, types of many. The problem is in the end, unalterably, one of historical science; and only by the use of all the methods of sound historical science will it ever be solved. It is not merely in regard to the study of Christian origins that sociological problems are vitiated by the habitual passing of à priori judgments on issues never critically considered. When an expert hierologist like Dr. Budge tells us repeatedly that in ancient Egypt a "highly spiritual," "lofty spiritual" and "elevated" religion went hand in hand with a system of sorcery of "degrading" savagery, [469] we are led to inquire how the estimates of altitude are reached or justified. There appears to be no answer save that Dr. Budge holds certain theories about the universe, and, finding these more or less akin to the esoteric theology of Egypt, laurels his own opinions in this fashion. But Dr. Budge is no more entitled than any one else to settle such questions without rational discussion, and the reason of some of us revolts at the concept of a conjoined sublimity and imbecility as a spurious paradox. It is but a convention of supernaturalist apriorism, figuring where it has no right of entry. In precisely the same fashion, Dr. Estlin Carpenter credits to the Aztecs a "lofty religious sentiment," avowed to be "strangely blended with a hideous and sanguinary ritual." [470] The "lofty" is again a wreath for the writer's own philosophy of religion, in terms of which the act of the "good Samaritan," performed a million times by unpretending human beings, was imaginable only by a supernormal Jew, and unmatchable in pagan thought. In a word, these moral pretensions had better be withdrawn from the area of historical discussion proper. Involving as they do the inference that "lofty" religious conceptions are not merely of no moral value but potent sanctions for all manner of evil, they very effectually stultify themselves. But rationalism needs not, and should not seek, to turn such blunders to its account. As M. Loisy claims, the ground of historic criticism is not the place for such polemic, which tends only to confuse the scientific issue. That is hard enough to solve, with the best will and the best methods. APPENDIX A THE "TEACHING OF THE TWELVE APOSTLES" (Nov. 1 and 8, 1891.) [The following is a revised translation of the Didachê tôn dôdeka apostolôn, discovered by Philotheos Bryennios, Metropolitan of Nicomedia (then of Serres), in 1873, in the library attached to the Monastery of the Most Holy Sepulchre, in the Phanar, or Greek quarter, of Constantinople. It was part of a manuscript containing several ancient documents, including two Epistles of Clement of Rome, which Bryennios published in 1875. Not till 1883 did he publish the Didachê. Of the genuineness of the MS. there can be no reasonable doubt. That there was current in the early Church a "Teaching of the Twelve Apostles" appears from Eusebius (H. E. iii, 25) and Athanasius (Festal Epistle 39, C.E. 367). There were very good reasons why the Church, as time went on, should desire to drop the Teaching from her current literature. It is obviously in origin a purely Jewish document, and the first six chapters show no trace of Jesuism. We have already stated the reasons for concluding that the primary "Teaching" was the official doctrine of the twelve Jewish apostles of the High Priest to the Jews dispersed through the Roman Empire; that the Gospels borrowed from it, and not the converse; that Judaic Jesuists adopted it, and gradually interpolated it; and that it is the real foundation of the legend of the twelve Jesuist apostles. The sub-title: "Teaching of [the] Lord through the Twelve Apostles to the Nations" may have been the original. "Lord" here has the force of "God." On a first study, we found reasons [471] for deciding that the Epistle of Barnabas, which in part closely coincides with the "Teaching," borrows from it, and not the converse. That view, though naturally opposed by many orthodox scholars, who want to date the Teaching as late as possible, was from the first, we find, put by Farrar and by Zahn, and is convincingly maintained by the American editors, though of course they take the conventional view that the document is of Christian origin. Yet its Græco-Jewish origin, we feel certain, will be plain to every open-minded reader at the first perusal. That view was maintained by the Rev. Dr. C. Taylor, of St. John's College, Cambridge, in two lectures given at the Royal Institution in 1886; and it has been accepted by Dr. Salmon in his Introduction to the Study of the New Testament. It was admitted to be probable by the Rev. A. Gordon, in the Modern Review, July, 1884, but rejected by the American editors (1885). We have followed, with but few serious variations, the translation of the American editors, Professors Hitchcock and Brown, which, on careful comparison, we find to be the most faithful. Reasons for the main variations are given in the notes. Of the elucidatory notes, some are borrowed (with additions) from the American and French editions. The English student may refer to the edition of Professors Hitchcock and Brown, or to that of Canon Spence (1885), for the literature of the matter. Needless to say, the clerical reasoning on the matter must be viewed with constant caution.] Teaching of the Twelve Apostles Teaching of [the] Lord, through the Twelve Apostles, to the nations [472] Chap. I.--Two ways there are, one of life and one of death, and great is the difference between the two ways. [473] The way of life, then, is this: First, thou shalt love the God who made thee; secondly, thy neighbour as thyself; [474] and all things whatsoever thou wouldest not have befall thee, thou, too, do not to another. [475] And of these words the teaching is this: Bless them that curse you, and pray for your enemies, and fast for them that persecute you; [476] for what thank [have ye] if ye love them that love you? Do not foreigners [477] do the same? But love ye them that hate you and ye shall have no enemy. Abstain from the fleshly and worldly lusts. [478] If any one give thee a blow on the right cheek, turn to him the other also, and thou shalt be perfect; [479] if any one compel thee to go one mile, go with him twain; if any one take thy cloak, give him thy tunic also; if any one take from thee what is thine, ask it not back; for indeed thou canst not. [480] To every one that asketh thee give, and ask not back; for to all the Father desireth to have given of his own free gifts. [481] Blessed is he that giveth according to the commandment; for he is guiltless; woe to him that receiveth; [482] for if, indeed, one receiveth who hath need, he shall be guiltless; but he who hath no need shall give account, why he took, and for what purpose, and coming under confinement, [483] shall be examined concerning what he did, and shall not go out thence until he pay the last farthing. And it hath also been said concerning this: Let thine alms sweat in thy hands, until thou knowest to whom thou shouldst give. [484] Chap. II.--And a second commandment of the teaching is: Thou shalt not kill, nor commit adultery, nor corrupt boys, not commit fornication, nor steal, nor do magic, nor use sorcery, nor slay a child by abortion, nor destroy what is conceived. Thou shalt not lust after the things of thy neighbour, nor forswear thyself, nor bear false witness, nor revile, nor be revengeful, nor be double-minded or double-tongued; for a snare of death is the double tongue. Thy speech shall not be false, nor empty, but filled with doing. Thou shalt not be covetous, nor rapacious, nor a hypocrite, nor malicious, nor arrogant. Thou shalt not take evil counsel against thy neighbour. Thou shalt hate no man, but some thou shalt reprove, and for some thou shalt pray, and some thou shalt love above thy life. Chap. III.--My child, flee from every evil thing, and from everything like it. Be not wrathful, for anger leadeth to murder; [485] nor a zealot, [486] nor contentious, nor passionate; for of all these murders are begotten. My child, become not lustful; for lust leadeth to fornication; nor foul-mouthed, nor bold of gaze; [487] for of all these things adulteries are begotten. My child, become not an omen-watcher; [488] since it leadeth into idolatry; nor an enchanter, nor an astrologer, nor a purifier, [489] nor be willing to look upon these things; for of all these things idolatry is begotten. My child, become not a liar; since lying leadeth to theft; nor avaricious, nor vain-glorious; for of all these things thefts are begotten. My child, become not a murmurer; since it leadeth to blasphemy; nor self-willed, nor evil-minded; for of all these things blasphemies are begotten. But be meek, since the meek shall inherit the earth. [490] Become long-suffering and merciful and guileless and gentle and good, and tremble continually at the words which thou hast heard. Thou shalt not exalt thyself, nor allow over-boldness to thy soul. Thy soul shall not cleave to the great, [491] but with the righteous and lowly thou shalt consort. The experiences that befall thee shalt thou accept as good, knowing that without God nothing happeneth. Chap. IV.--My child, him that speaketh to thee the word of God thou shalt remember night and day, [492] and honour him as [the] Lord; for where that which pertaineth to the Lord [493] is spoken there [the] Lord is. And thou shalt seek out daily the faces of the saints, that thou mayest be refreshed by their words. Thou shalt not desire division, but shall make peace between those who contend; thou shalt judge justly; thou shalt not respect persons in reproving for transgressions. Thou shalt not hesitate [494] whether it shall be or not. Be not one who for receiving stretcheth out the hands, but for giving draweth them in; if thou hast anything, by thy hands thou shalt give a ransom for thy sins. [495] Thou shalt not hesitate to give, nor when giving shalt thou murmur, for thou shalt know who is the good dispenser of the recompense. Thou shalt not turn away from the needy, but shalt share all things with thy brother, and shalt not say they are thine own; for if ye are partners in that which is imperishable, how much more in the perishable things? [496] Thou shalt not take off thy hand from thy son and from thy daughter, [497] but from youth shalt thou teach them the fear of God. Thou shalt not lay commands in thy bitterness upon thy slave or girl-slave, who hope in the same God, lest they perchance shall not fear the God over you both; for he cometh not to call men according to the appearance, but to those whom the spirit hath prepared. And ye, slaves, ye shall be subject to your lords, as to God's image, [498] in modesty and fear. Thou shalt hate every hypocrisy, and whatever is not pleasing to the Lord. Thou shalt by no means forsake [the] Lord's commandments, but shall keep what thou hast received, neither adding to it nor taking from it. In church thou shalt confess thy transgressions, and shalt not draw near for thy prayer with an evil conscience. This is the way of life. Chap. V.--But the way of death is this: First of all it is evil, and full of curse; murders, adulteries, lusts, fornications, thefts, idolatries, magic arts, sorceries, robberies, false testimonies, hypocrisies, duplicity, guile, arrogance, malice, self-will, greed, foul speech, jealousy, [499] over-boldness, haughtiness, boasting; persecutors of the good, hating truth, loving falsehood, knowing not the reward of righteousness, not cleaving to that which is good nor to righteous judgment, on the watch not for good but for evil; far from whom are meekness and patience; loving vanities, seeking reward, [500] not pitying a poor man, not grieving with one [501] in distress, not knowing him that made them, murderers of children, destroyers of God's image, [502] turning away from the needy, oppressing the afflicted, advocates of the rich, lawless judges of the poor, universal sinners; may ye be delivered, children, from all these. Chap. VI.--See that no one lead thee astray from this way of the teaching, because apart from God doth he teach thee. For if thou art able to bear the whole yoke of the Lord, thou shalt be perfect; but if thou art not able, what thou art able that do. And concerning food, what thou art able, bear; but of that offered to idols, beware exceedingly; for it is a worship of dead Gods. [It will be observed that while there is a very marked transition after ch. vi, a division may be held to begin after ch. v. In this connection may be noted an interesting fact, brought out by the Rev. A. Gordon in his examination of the Didachê. Nicephoros of Constantinople (fl. 750-820) knew of a certain Teaching of the Apostles, which he mentioned as containing 200 lines. Nicephoros also speaks of the combined lengths of the two Epistles of Clement as amounting to 2,600 lines. Now, in the Jerusalem MS., which is closely written, the Clementine Epistles occupy only 1,200 lines, which would give for the Didachê, in the same writing, on the proportions mentioned by Nicephoros, only 92 lines, whereas it occupies 203. Mr. Gordon simply noted the fact as a difficulty. If however he had followed up his own observation that the Didachê shows a division after the fifth chapter, he would have found that the proportion of the first five sections to the rest is nearly as 86 to 203; while with ch. vi we should have a still closer approximation--88 to 203. We have here, then, a virtual proof that Nicephoros had before him only these first five or six chapters, and that the subsequent additions were not to be found in all copies of the Teaching. The inference from the internal evidence is thus remarkably confirmed. The original Teaching, once more, was a purely Jewish document, without even a mention of Jesus. It will be noted further that, while the first six chapters contain no suggestion of anything beyond simple monotheism and general ethics, and the sixth chapter ends with a warning against eating food offered to idols, the seventh suddenly plunges into a prescription of baptism, which introduces the formula of "the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit," and minutely provides for the manner of the ceremony. But the eighth chapter evidently connects directly with the sixth, a direction as to fasting following on the warning in that section against eating meat offered to idols. It is thus perfectly clear that the entire Trinitarian section on baptism is an interpolation. In the eighth chapter, again, we have an interpolation of the words "as the Lord commanded in his gospel." In C.M. (415 sq.) are set forth the weighty reasons for concluding that the Lord's prayer, which is lacking in Mark, and different in Luke, was a Jewish formula long before the Christian era. While the Christist interpolations are thus obvious after the sixth chapter, it is not here assumed that the first six chapters as they stand are a single original document. On the contrary, we are inclined to think that the scheme of the "two ways" is itself a redaction of an original document which gave the first "way" without preamble, the present preamble and the fifth chapter being inserted to give the dual form. On that view, the pre-Christian document may not have stopped with the sixth chapter, though the definitely Christian redaction begins with the seventh, as the document now stands. The Trinitarian seventh chapter was almost certainly one of the latest of the Christian additions. In the ninth, rules are laid down for the Eucharist without any allusion to the Godhead of Jesus, who is spoken of in Ebionitic terms as "Jesus thy servant," though Jesus Christ is further on spoken of in more distinctly Christist terms. These are evidently further additions. In the tenth chapter the Ebionitic tone is resumed, Jesus being still only "thy servant"; while throughout the rest of the document there is much teaching that might have come from the Judaic apostles who propagated that of the earlier chapters. As to this, however, it is difficult to come to a definite conclusion. All that is certain is that the nucleus of the document was Judaic, and that the Christian tamperings were made at different stages, the earlier indicating the primary Ebionitic creed, in which Jesus was merely a holy man, no more God than any other "Anointed."] Chap. VII.--Now concerning baptism, thus baptise ye: having first uttered all these things, baptise into the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, in living water. But if thou hast not living water, [503] baptise in other water; and if thou canst not in cold, [then] in warm. But if thou hast neither, pour water upon the head thrice, [504] into the name of Father and Son and Holy Spirit. But before the baptism let the baptiser and baptised fast, and whatever others can; but the baptised thou shalt command to fast for one or two days before. Chap. VIII.--But let not your fastings be in common with the hypocrites; for they fast on the second day of the week and on the fifth; [505] but do ye fast during the fourth, and the preparation [day]. [506] Nor pray ye like the hypocrites, but as the Lord [507] commanded in his gospel, thus pray: Our Father who art in heaven, Hallowed be thy name, thy kingdom come, thy will be done, as in heaven, so on earth; our daily bread give us to-day, and forgive us our debt as we also forgive our debtors, and bring us not into temptation, but deliver us from the evil; for thine is the power and the glory forever. Three times in the day pray ye thus. Chap. IX.--Now, concerning the Eucharist, [508] thus give thanks: first, concerning the cup: We thank thee, our Father, for the holy vine of David [509] thy servant, which thou hast made known to us through Jesus thy servant; [510] to thee be the glory for ever. And concerning the broken [bread]: We thank thee, our Father, for the life and knowledge which thou hast made known to us through Jesus thy servant; to thee be the glory for ever. [511] Just as this broken [bread] was scattered over the hills and having been gathered together became one, so let thy church be gathered from the ends of the earth into thy kingdom; for thine is the glory and the power through Jesus Christ forever.[3] But let no one eat or drink of your Eucharist, except those baptised into the name of [the] Lord; for in regard to this the Lord hath said: Give not that which is holy to the dogs. [512] Chap. X.--Now after ye are filled [513] thus do ye give thanks: We thank thee, holy Father, for thy holy name, which thou hast caused to dwell in our hearts, and for the knowledge and faith and immortality which thou hast made known to us through Jesus thy servant; to thee be the glory forever. Thou, Sovereign [514] Almighty, didst create all things for thy name's sake; both food and drink thou didst give to men for enjoyment, that they might give thanks to thee; but to us thou hast graciously given spiritual food and drink and eternal life through thy servant. Before all things we thank thee that thou art mighty; to thee be the glory for ever. Remember, Lord, thy Church, to deliver it from every evil and to make it perfect in thy love, and gather it from the four winds, [it] the sanctified, into thy kingdom, which thou hast prepared for it; for thine is the power and the glory forever. Let grace come and let this world pass away. Hos-anna to the God [515] of David! Whoever is holy, let him come, whoever is not, let him repent. Maranatha. [516] Amen. But permit the prophets to give thanks as much as they will. Chap. XI.--Now, whoever cometh and teacheth you all these things aforesaid, receive him; but if the teacher himself turn aside and teach another teaching, so as to overthrow [this], do not hear him; but [if he teach] so as to promote righteousness and knowledge of [the] Lord, receive him as [the] Lord. Now in regard to the apostles and prophets, according to the ordinance of the Gospel, so do ye. And every apostle who cometh to you, let him be received as [the] Lord; but he shall not remain [except for?] one day; if, however, there be need, then the next [day]; but if he remain three days, he is a false prophet. [517] But when the apostle departeth, let him take nothing except bread enough till he lodge [again]; but if he ask money, he is a false prophet. And every prophet who speaketh in the spirit, ye shall not try nor judge; for every sin shall be forgiven, but this sin shall not be forgiven. [518] But not every one that speaketh in the spirit is a prophet; but [only] if he have the ways of [the] Lord. So from their ways shall the false prophet and the prophet be known. And no prophet appointing a table [519] in the spirit, eateth of it, unless indeed he is a false prophet; and every prophet who teacheth the truth, if he do not that which he teacheth, is a false prophet. But every prophet, tried, true, acting with a view to the mystery of the Church on earth, [520] but not teaching [others] to do all that he himself doeth, shall not be judged among you; for with God he hath his judgment; for so did the ancient prophets also. But whoever, in the spirit, saith: Give me money, or something else, ye shall not hear him; but if for others in need he bids [you] give, let none judge him. Chap. XII.--And let every one that cometh in [the] Lord's name be received, but afterwards ye shall test and know him; for ye shall have understanding, right and left. If he who cometh is a wayfarer, help him as much as ye can; but he shall not remain with you, unless for two or three days, if there be necessity. But if he will take up his abode among you, being a craftsman, let him work and so eat; but if he have no craft, provide, according to your understanding; that no idler live with you as a Christian. But if he will not act according to this, he is a Christmonger; [521] beware of such. Chap. XIII.--But every true prophet who will settle among you is worthy of his food. Likewise a true teacher, he also is worthy, like the workman, of his food. [522] Every firstfruit, then, of the produce of wine-press and threshing-floor, of oxen and of sheep, thou shalt take and give to the prophets; for they are your high-priests. But if ye have no prophet, give [it] to the poor. If thou makest a baking of bread, take the first [of it] and give according to the commandment. In like manner when thou openest a jar of wine or oil, take the first [of it] and give to the prophets; and of money and clothing and every possession, take the first, as may seem right to thee, and give according to the commandment. Chap. XIV.--And on the Lord's-day of [the] Lord [523] being assembled, break bread, and give thanks, after confessing your transgressions, in order that your sacrifice may be pure. But any one that hath variance with his friend, let him not come together with you, until they be reconciled, that your sacrifice may not be defiled. For this is that which was spoken by [the] Lord: [524] At every place and time, bring me a pure sacrifice; for a great king am I, saith [the] Lord, and my name is marvellous among the nations. [525] Chap. XV.--Now elect for yourselves bishops and deacons worthy of the Lord, men meek and not avaricious, and upright and proved; for they, too, render you the service [526] of the prophets and the teachers. Therefore neglect them not; for they are the ones who are honoured of you, together with the prophets and teachers. And reprove one another, not in anger, but in peace, as ye have [it] in the gospel; and to every one who erreth against another, let no one speak, nor let him hear [anything] from you, until he repent. But your prayers and your alms and all your deeds so do ye, as ye have [it] in the gospel of our [527] Lord. Chap. XVI.--Watch for your life; let not your lamps be gone out, and let not your loins be loosed, but be ready; for ye know not the hour in which our Lord cometh. But ye shall come together often, and seek the things which befit your souls; for the whole time of your faith will not profit you, if ye be not made perfect in the last season. For in the last days the false prophets and the corruptors shall be multiplied, and the sheep shall be turned into wolves, and love shall be turned into hate; for when lawlessness increaseth they shall hate one another, and shall persecute and shall deliver up; and then shall appear the world-deceiver as the Son of God, [528] and shall do signs and wonders, and the earth shall be given unto his hands, and he shall commit iniquities which have never yet been done since the beginning. Then all created men shall come into the fire of trial, and many shall be made to stumble and shall perish. But they that endure in their faith shall be saved from under even this curse. And then shall appear the signs of truth; first the sign of an opening [529] in heaven, then the sign of a trumpet's voice, and thirdly, the resurrection of the dead; yet not of all, [530] but as it hath been said: The Lord will come and all the saints with him. Then shall the world see the Lord coming upon the clouds of heaven. APPENDIX B THE MYTH OF SIMON MAGUS I Two questions are raised under this heading--the question whether, as was argued by F. C. Baur, the "Simon Magus" of the "Clementine Recognitions" and "Homilies" is a mask-name for a polemic directed primarily at the Apostle Paul; and the more fundamental question whether the Simon Magus of the Acts is or is not a historical character. The reasons for holding Simon to be a mythical personage (as apart from the reasons for supposing the Clementine Simon to be meant for Paul, and the story of the Acts to be a misconceiving adaptation of the Clementine narrative) are overwhelming. To begin with, Justin Martyr, a Samaritan born, expressly says [531] that almost all the Samaritans worshipped Simon. [532] This alone might dispose of the notion that the "Simonians" dated merely from the time of Paul and Peter. It is absurd to suppose that nearly all the Samaritans, a people with old cults, could be converted within a century to a new Deity originating in one man. The cult must date further back than that. And that Justin, though of Samaritan birth, could widely misconceive the cults around him, is pretty clear from his famous blunder of finding his Simon Magus as Simo Sanctus in the Semo Sancus of Rome, the old Sabine counterpart of the Eastern Semo. [533] For there is abundant evidence, to begin with, that a name of which the basis is Sem is one of the oldest of Semitic God-names. We have the forms Shem, Sime-on, Sams-on, S(h)amas (the Babylonian name of the sun; Hebrew Shemesh), San-d-on, or Samdan [534] Semen and Sem, all plainly connected with a sun-myth. Shamas or Samas was an Assyrian Sun-God, the duplicate of Melkarth and Hercules. Samson or Simson or Shimshai (= the Sun-man), the Hebrew Sun-hero, is unquestionably a mere variant of that myth. Sand-on, also a Sun-God, is the same myth over again. Baal-Samen, "the Lord of Heaven," [535] is the same conception as Baal-Melkarth; Baal, "the Lord," a Sun-God himself as well as Supreme God, being joined with the Sun-God proper. The name Sem, again, is found as signifying Hercules, in conjunction with those of Harpocrates and the Egyptian Hermes, [536] and is probably involved in the mythical queen-name Semiramis (Sammuramat), since she in one of the myths gets her name from Simmas, "keeper of the king's flocks," who rears her [537]--another form of the Sun-God, belike. Simeon, in the myth of the twelve tribes, is one of the twin-brethren, who in all mythologies are at bottom solar deities. The "on" means "great," as in Samson, Dagon, Solomon, etc.; [538] and the Dioscuri of the Greek and Roman myth were "the Great Twin Brethren." It was added to the name of the Samaritan God Êl Êlyon, "Great Êl," [539] who is just the Êl (singular of Elohim) of the Hebrews. But the name Shem itself means "the Lofty"; [540] and the name of the mythical ancestor of the Shemites is at bottom a God-name, just as are those of Noach, Abram, Jacob, and Isra-el. It may also, it appears, have had the significance of "red-shining." [541] And, last but not least, the same vocable also has the significance of "name," so that the Semites or sons of S(h)em were also "the men with names" [542]; and the Hebrew "Shem hemmaphorash" or Tetragrammaton was the name of four letters (IEUE = Yahweh) or "the peculiar name." [543] Lenormant declares [544] that this last tenet came from Chaldea, where "they considered the divine name, the Shem, as endowed with properties so special and individual that they succeeded in making of it a distinct person." But this idea of the sacredness of the God-name was one of the most prevalent of ancient religious notions. It was still devoutly held by the Christian Origen, who argued [545] that the Hebrew divine names must be held to because they alone were potent to conjure with. It appears in the Judaic Teaching of the Twelve Apostles in its Christianised form (c. x), in the passage of thanksgiving beginning, "We thank thee, holy Father, for thy holy name, which thou hast made to dwell in our hearts." In the Jewish Sepher Toledoth Jeschu, Jesus is made to do his magic works by virtue of the "Shem hemmaphorash," the Tetragrammaton, of which he has furtively possessed himself. Thus could an ancient God-name retain its mysterious prestige even after the mystery-mongers (reversing the process imagined by Lenormant) had taken the name-quality out of it, and left only the word for "name." In other ways it clung to the Jewish cult. It is highly probable that the pre-eminent Jewish prayer, the "Shema" (or the "Shemoneh Esreh"), of which the name is explained away into insignificance, is an extremely ancient prayer to the Sun-God. [546] Even this is sought to be connected with a historical "Simon." [547] And all the while the original God Sem survives in the Jewish mythology as "Shamma-el," the Prince of Demons and angel of death, who has power over all peoples except the Jews; [548] and at the same time in the legend of Samu-el, the unshorn, the child of the heretofore sterile mother (vexed by her rival as Rachel by Leah), the potentate who makes and unmakes kings, and who is called up as a "God" [549] from the earth by incantation. But all this connects decisively with Samaria. It is not improbable that the name Samaria itself was derived from the name of the Sun-God, it being very much more likely that the mountain would be named from the God who was worshipped on it than from a man Shemer. [550] The last is obviously a worthless gloss. A reasonable alternative view is that as the God-name Asshur is identified with the name of the Assyrian country and people, whether giving or following their race-name, so the Semitic God-name Shem is bound up with the name Samaria, as that of Athênê with Athens. It is at all events clear that, as is claimed by Volkmar, [551] Sem or Simon was the chief God of the Samaritans. They declared to Antiochus, according to Josephus, [552] that their temple on Mount Gerizim had no name, but was that of "the greatest God"; and this squares with the other evidence, whether or not it be true that they offered, as Josephus states, to dedicate the temple to Zeus of the Hellenes. For, S(h)em being "the high," Sem-on would be the Great High One or Greatest God, just as Êl Êlyon was the great Êl, the Great Power, Greatest of Powers. And as Sem-on was also the Great Name, the God was in that sense without a name, which circumstance is the explanation of the otherwise pointless phrase of the Johannine Jesus (John iv, 22) to the Samaritan woman, "Ye worship that which ye know not what." And all the ideas converge in the phrases in the Acts (viii, 9-10), that Simon claimed to be "some great one" (heauton megan) and was spoken of as "that power of God which is called Great." In fine, Simon Magus, the Mage, is just a version of Simon Megas, Great Simon. We know from their version of the Pentateuch that the later Samaritans, being strong "monotheists" in one of the senses of that elastic and misleading term, sought always to substitute angels for Elohim in the old narratives of divine action (e. g. Gen. iii, 5; v, 1; v, 24; xvii, 22), "lest a corporeal existence should be attributed to the Deity." [553] And it is instructive to note how their theological drift exhibits itself in early Christism. The doctrine of the "Logos" is not merely Alexandrian-Christian, it is Judaic. Some of the Aramaic paraphrasts of the Old Testament at times wrote "the Word of Jehovah" instead of the angel of Jehovah, sometimes the "She-kin-ah," which means "the abode of the Word of Jehovah." [554] On the other hand, we know from the Gospel of Peter that one of the early Christian sects regarded Jesus as having received his dynamis, his power, at baptism, and yielded it up at crucifixion. Here we are close to Samaritanism, in which the angels were regarded [555] as "uncreated influences proceeding from God (dynameis, powers)," pretty much as Simon is described in the Acts. Thus "Simon" for the Samaritans would just be "Êl," which the Samaritan Justin, like the writer of "Peter," held to mean "Power." And at the same time, be it observed, Simon was "the Word." But still the proof abounds. In Lucian's account of the Syrian Goddess we are told [556] that in the temple at Byblos there was a statue, apparently epicene or double-sexed, called by some Dionysos, by others Deucalion, and by others Semiramis, but to which the Syrians gave no specific name, calling it only Semeion, a word which in Greek properly means "sign," but may mean image. There can be little doubt that Movers [557] was right in surmising this statue to be just the primordial Sem or Sem-on, the Great Sem of the Semitic race. The two-sexed character is in perfect keeping with the ideal duality of the old Assyrian Nature-Gods; [558] and the peculiar detail of the name which was not a name brings us again to the Sem-on of the Samaritans. Everything in the Christian legend falls in with this identification. The Fathers [559] tell us of one Helen, a prostitute from Tyre, with whom Simon went about, and whom he gave out to be a reincarnation of Helen of Troy, and also his "Thought." Helen is almost unquestionably, as Baur [560] surmised, the Selene or Luna of the old sun-cultus. In the paragraph following his account of the Semeion, Lucian tells us that in the forepart of the same temple stands the throne of Helios, but without a statue; Helios and Selene, the sun and moon, being the only divinities not sculptured in the temple--though he goes on to mention that behind the throne is a statue of a clothed and bearded Apollo, quite different from the Greek form. Here, again, we have a mystic conception of the Sun-God, a conception necessarily confusing to ordinary visitors, even supposing the priests themselves to have had any consistent ideas about it; and the fact [561] that the temple further contained among other statues one of Helena (herself an old Moon-Goddess), gave ample opportunity for the usual mythological variants. Thus it came about that while Justin and Irenæus connect Simon Magus with Helen, Irenæus says the Simonians have "an image of Simon in the likeness of Jupiter, and of Helen in that of Minerva"--a curious statement, which at once recalls that of Lucian [562] that the Hêrê of the temple of Byblos "has something of Athênê and Aphrodite, of Selene and Rhea, of Artemis, of Nemesis, and of the Parcæ." This again squares with the fact that in the Chaldeo-Babylonian system Samas was associated with the goddess Gula, "triform as personating the moon, and sometimes replaced by a group of three spouses of equal rank, Malkit, Gula, and Anunit." [563] And in the Latin translation by Rufinus of the pseudo-Clementine "Recognitions," for Helena we actually have Luna. The chain is complete. We are dealing not with a historic person or persons, but with an ancient cult, which Christian ignorance and Judaic "monotheism" between them strove to reduce somehow to a historical narrative, as the myths of Abraham and Samson and Israel and Elijah and a dozen others had been reduced, as the mythic ritual had been in the gospels, and as indeed the rituals of Paganism had been in the current pagan mythologies. There was no Samaritan Simon the Mage, who met a Christian Peter; it was not a preaching Simon who taught of himself, but the Samaritan populace who traditionally believed of their God Sem or Simon, that "he appeared among the Jews as the Son, while in Samaria he descended as the Father, and in the rest of the nations he came as the Holy Spirit." [564] The parallel holds down to the last jot. The Semeion of the temple of Byblos had a dove on his head, [565] and there are abundant Jewish charges as to the worship of a dove by the Samaritans at Mount Gerizim; [566] so that Simon was the Logos receiving the Holy Spirit, the dynamis, just as Jesus did in the Gospels; and the Christists' doctrine that the Holy Spirit should be given to the nations is simply an adaptation of the Samaritan syncretism, which they sought to override by a syncretism of their own in their latest gospel, where it comes out that their Galilean Jesus was called a Samaritan by Jews, [567] a charge which curiously enough he does not dispute, denying only that he has "a daimon." This is exactly the myth of Simon turned into a story of an incarnate Messiah, who affirms his reality. [568] Well might the Fathers call their imaginary "Simon" the Father of all heresies. He was the "Father" in a sense of their own creed, as well as of all the Gnosticisms into which it broke. II What hinders ordinary students from accepting Baur's view of the "Clementine" Simon, which we have here sought to support, is the existence of the fragments of writings attributed to Simon, together with the circumstantialities of the story in the Acts and the Fathers. But these circumstantialities are just the marks of all the ancient myths, Jewish, Christian, and Gentile; and the attribution of writings to Simon Magus no more proves his historical existence than the same process proves the historical existence of Orpheus and Moses. [569] The fragments and paraphrases preserved by the Fathers are just part of the mass of ancient Occultism; and their connection with the name of Simon the Mage is merely a variation of the Jewish myth which attributes the authorship of the Zohar to Simon Ben Jochaï, a mythical or mythicised personage if ever there was one. He is fabled to have lived in a cave for twelve years, studying the Cabbala, during which time he was visited by Elias. At his death fire was seen in the cave, and a voice from heaven was heard saying, "Come ye to the marriage of Simon Ben Jochaï: he is entering into peace, and shall rest in his chamber." At his burial there was heard a voice crying, "This is he who caused the earth to quake and the kingdoms to shake." [570] Simon is said to have belonged to the first century of the Christian era; while the Zohar is held to have been composed in the 13th century. [571] In all probability the matter of the Zohar is largely ancient; and the association of it (as of the Shema or Shemoneh Esreh prayer) with the name Simon points distinctly to a traditional vogue of the name in Semitic Gnosticism. But there is no more reason to believe that an actual Simon composed the Zohar, or the "Great Denial" (perhaps = antinomy) attributed to Simon the Mage, than to believe in the above stories of the voices from heaven and those of the miracles of the Mage in the Acts. The Talmudic legends clearly point to a sun myth, bringing Simon into connection with Elias, Eli-jah, an unquestionable Sun-God, who combines the names El and Jah, though reduced by the Judaic Evemerising monotheists to the rank of a judge-prophet, as was Samu-el, and as Sams-on was made a "judge." It lay in the essence of ancient religiosity to do this, and at the same time to seek to father all its documents on sacrosanct names. That a real Samaritan Simon of the first century should write a new occultist book and publish it as his own, is contrary to the whole spirit of the time. Only centuries after the period of its composition could such a book be attributed to an ordinary human author by those who accepted it. If it was current in the first century, it must have been either fathered on an ancient and mythical Simon or regarded as a book of the mysteries of the God Simon. The opinions or statements of the Christian Fathers concerning it are quite worthless save as embodying a name-tradition. III There remains to be considered the theory of the Tübingen school that the Christian legend of Simon Magus is to be found in its earliest form in the "Clementines," that body of early sectarian forged literature which has been made to yield so much light as to the early history of the Christist Church. Here, in a set of writings ("Recognitions" and "Homilies," of which books one is a redaction of the other), purporting to be by Clement of Rome, we have a propaganda that is on the face of it strongly Petrine, and that turns out on analysis to be strongly anti-Pauline, though the gist of the matter is a series of disputations between Peter and Simon the Mage. It is impossible at present to settle what was the first form of these documents, which as they stand bear marks of the third century, and survive only in the Latin translation of Rufinus (d. 410); but it is plain that they preserve elements of the early Ebionitic or Judæo-Christian opposition to the Gentile Christism of Paul. The Tübingen theory is that under the name of Simon Magus Paul is attacked throughout. This, at first sight, certainly seems a fantastic thesis; but an examination of the matter shows that it is very strongly founded. A leading feature in the conduct of Simon Magus in the Clementines, as in the Acts, is his attempt to purchase apostleship with money. Now, this corresponds very closely with the act of Paul in bringing to Jerusalem a subsidy from the Western churches, an act which, on the part of one not recognised as an apostle, and exhibited in the Epistles as always on jealous terms [572] with the Jerusalem apostles, would naturally rank as an attempt to purchase the Holy Ghost with lucre. Again, Simon Magus in the Clementines claims to rest his authority on divine visions, which is exactly the position of Paul; [573] and Peter denies that visions have such authority. Once recognise the primary strife between Judaising and Gentilising Christians, of which there are so many traces in New Testament and Patristic literature, and it is easy to see that these are the very points on which the anti-Paulinists would most bitterly oppose Paul and his movement. In the Clementines, Peter not only opposes the Magus in Palestine, but follows him to Rome, thus carrying the antagonism between the two sects over the whole theoretic field. The fact that both Simon Peter and Simon Magus, Cephas and Paul, are made to journey from East to West, and to die in the West, like the immemorial Sun-God, is suggestive. That the Judaists should give Paul a symbolical name, again, was quite in keeping with the usual dialectic of the time, in which Rome, for instance, figured as "Babylon," the typical great hostile city of Jewish remembrance. Just as Babylon symbolised heathen oppression, Samaria typified heathen heresy, the divergence from the Jewish cult in a heathen direction. Such divergence was the Judaist gravamen against Paul, who broke away from the law; and as Simon, Semo, typified Samaritan heresy in general, it was peculiarly suited to the arch-heretic who sought to overthrow the supreme privilege of Jerusalem. Simon was the Samaritan "false Christ," and Paul's preaching falsified the Judaic Christ. [574] And nothing is more remarkable in the matter than the way in which the plainly patched-up reconciliatory narrative of the Acts squares with this theory. The book of Acts is explicable only on the hypothesis that it was designed, in its final form, to reconcile the long-opposed sects by reconciling Peter and Paul in a quasi-historical narrative. The narrative plainly clashes with Paul's alleged Epistles. For the rest, it is managed largely on the plan of duplicating the exploits of the two heroes, so that Paul confutes Elymas as Peter does Simon, and closely duplicates one of Peter's miracles. [575] Some legends were in existence to start with, and others were invented to match them. Similarly the dispute between Paul and Barnabas at Antioch was to supersede the strife there between Paul and Peter. [576] If then the composer of the Acts had before him a legend of Peter confuting Simon the Mage, it would suit him to retain it, since thus would he best dissociate the Mage from Paul. But, as Zeller points out, he is careful, first of all, to place the story of the Mage before Paul's conversion; and at the same time he shows he knows the original significance of the charge against Simon Magus as to offering money, by ignoring the most important of Paul's subsidies. [577] The application of a great mass of the polemic against Simon Magus in the Clementines is so obvious that the evasion of the problem by Harnack and Salmon and others on futile pleas of "false appearances" and "common-sense" is simply a confession of defeat. Baur's case, after being dismissed on pretexts of "common-sense" by those who could not meet it, is irresistibly restated by Schmiedel, on a full survey of its development by Lipsius and others. The only solution is, that the Clementines adapt for new purposes a mass of old anti-Pauline matter. At the time at which they were redacted, Paul had been established as a "catholic" figure; and there could be no such hatred to him as breathes through the fierce impeachments of the teaching of the Paulines in the Recognitions and Homilies. For it is at the Epistles that the bulk of the attacks are directed. What has been done is to use up, for a new polemic with heretics, a quantity of old anti-Pauline literature in which the disguising of Paul under the name of Simon Magus probably blinded the redactors to its purpose. For them Simon was simply the arch-heretic, and it was against his detested memory and persisting influence that they operated. The theory is no doubt a complicated one; but when taken in its full extent, as recognising the addition of the heresy of the Gnostic Paulinist Marcion to that of Paul, it is perfectly consistent with the documents; and there is really no other view worth discussing, as regards the connection of Simon Magus with Peter. The orthodox belief that Simon was an actual Samaritan who suddenly persuaded the people of Samaria to regard him as a divine incarnation, as told in the Acts, will not explain the mass of identities in the Clementines between the teaching ascribed to him and the actual Pauline Epistles. In explaining the choice of the name Simon for Paul by his Judaic antagonists, the myth-theory is far more helpful than the view of Simon's historicity. A "false God" Simon, the God of the typically misbelieving Samaritans, would be by Jews reduced to human status as a matter of course, unless he were simply classed as a "daimon." A "Simon the Mage" was for them just the type they wanted wherewith to identify Paul, the new False Teacher. To identify, on the other hand, a contemporary or lately deceased Paul with a contemporary or lately deceased Simon would be an idle device, missing the end in view. The name of such a Simon would for purposes of aspersion be worth little or nothing. The name had to be a widely and long notorious one, and the myth supplied it. IV In conclusion, let it be noted that the bearing of the myth of Simon Magus on Christianity is not limited to the explanation of the Samaritan origins and the elucidation of the Paul-and-Peter antagonism. The more the matter is looked into, the more reason is seen for surmising that Samaria played a large part in the beginnings of the Christian system. Samaria seems to have been beyond all other parts of Palestine a crucible in which manifold cult-elements tended to be fused by syncretic ideas; and the extent to which Samaria figures in the fourth gospel is a phenomenon not yet adequately explained. The fact that Jesus is there said to have been called a Samaritan reminds us that among the movements of the "false Christs" so often alluded to in the Gospels [578] a Samaritan cult of the mystic Christ may have counted for much. The fourth gospel itself would come under the anti-Pauline ban, inasmuch as, while Simon Magus is said to have sought to substitute Mount Gerizim for Jerusalem, Jesus here [579] is made to set aside both the Samaritan mountain and Jerusalem. The very fact that the Samaritan woman professedly expects the coming of Messiah, is a hint that the story of the well and the living water may be of Samaritan Messianic origin. Nay more, since we know that the Samaritans in particular laid stress on the Messiah Ben Joseph rather than on the Messiah Ben David, they regarding themselves as of Josephite descent, it is probable that the very legend of Jesus being the putative son of one Joseph, which we know was absent from the Ebionite version of Matthew, was framed to meet the Samaritan view. These matters are still far from having been exhaustively considered. NOTES [1] The charge of haste is posited as a preliminary to criticism by the Rev. Dr. Thorburn in his work on The Mythical Interpretation of the Gospels. Some examples of Dr. Thorburn's own haste will be found in the following pages. [2] Twenty years ago a French scholar gently included me in this reproach. [3] I omit personalities. [4] Art. by H. G. Wood in The Cambridge Magazine, Jan. 1917. [5] Cp. H.J. 128-139. [6] In the course of a second attack, the critic avows that he knows of "no theory of gospel-origins, living or dead," which concedes that the tragedy-story was added to the gospels as a separate block. Reminded that the school of B. Weiss make their "Primitive Gospel" end before the tragedy, he replies in a third attack that that school is "obsolete"--i. e. neither living nor dead? [7] It seems to have been the view of Mr. Cassels. [8] Art. Gospels in Encyc. Bibl., ii, col. 1869. [9] Ecce Deus, p. 93. [10] Historical Christ, p. 182. [11] Ecce Deus, pref. p. ix. [12] Dr. Conybeare, The Historical Christ, p. 5. [13] H.J. 112, 113, 128, 157 sq., 177 sq. [14] Hist. of Greece, 10 vol. ed. 1888, ii, 462. [15] Id. p. 500. [16] Gesch. des Alterthums, ii (1893), 649. See the context for the historic basis in general. [17] Id. 427, 564. [18] Burnet, Early Greek Philosophy, 2nd ed. p. 91. Cp. 93 sq. [19] Id. p. 100. Cp. 106-7, 123. [20] Id. p. 105. Cp. 109. [21] P.C. 274 sq. A proselytizing Catholic Professor in Glasgow has represented me as denying the historicity of Apollonius, having reached that opinion by intuition. [22] The Bhagavat Gîta, which glorifies Krishna, is late relatively to the cult. [23] Cp. Gunkel, Zum religionsgeschichtlichen Verständnis des N.T., 1903, p. 5 sq. [24] Apropos d'histoire des religions, p. 290. [25] Jesus, by William Renton. Pub. by author, Keswick, 1879. [26] Rep. by R.P.A. 1907. [27] The Mythical Interpretation of the Gospels, 1916. [28] E. g. He takes as applying to Jesus (p. 377) a remark applied expressly and solely to the myth of Herakles. [29] Work cited, p. 10. [30] Second Leben Jesu, § 91 (3te Aufl. p. 569). [31] See refs. in Drews, The Witnesses to the Historicity of Jesus, Eng. trans. p. 23. [32] As cited, p. 572. [33] Jesus and Israel, Eng. tr., pp. viii, ix, 29. [34] Putnams, 1912. I had not met with this work when I chose my own title, The Historical Jesus, else I should have framed another. [35] Work cited, pp. 335-353. [36] Williams and Norgate, 1895. [37] Work cited, p. 420. [38] Id. p. 17, etc. [39] The Historic Jesus, p. vii. [40] In this connection he puts the theory--derived from the celebrated Herr Chamberlain--that Jesus was not a Jew but an "Amorite." [41] H.J. chs. xvii and xix. [42] H.J. 199. On this compare The Four Gospels as Historical Records, chs. vi-xiii. [43] Canon Cheetham, Hulsean Lectures on The Mysteries, 1897, p. 115. [44] "The primitive idea of the sacrificial meal, namely, that it is by participation in the blood of the god that the spirit of the god enters into his worshipper."--Prof. Jevons, Introd. to the Hist. of Religion, 1896, p. 291. "Originally the death of the god was nothing else than the death of the theanthropic victim."--Robertson Smith, Religion of the Semites, 1889, p. 394. [45] Jésus et la tradition évangélique, 1910, p. 106. [46] H.J. 202-3. [47] Loisy, p. 171. [48] See refs. in H.J. 171; others in G.B. ix. 420 n. An overwhelming case for the reading "Jesus (the) Barabbas" is established by E. B. Nicholson, The Gospel according to the Hebrews, 1879, pp. 141-2. [49] Mr. Lester translates "Son of a Teacher," but this (adopted by Brandt) is an evasive rendering. He thinks the story, even if true, had no connection with the condemnation of Jesus. [50] Cp. Nicholson, as cited, p. 142. [51] G.B. ix, 418; P.C. 146. [52] G.B. ix, 419. [53] Id. iv, ch. vi; P.C. 124. [54] P.C. 152, 64; G.B. iv (Pt. III, The Dying God), 170 sq. [55] P.C. 161. Cp. Turner, Samoa, 1884, 274-5; G.B. iv, ch. vi. [56] P.C. 137, 161, 186; G.B. iv (Pt. III), 166. [57] Macrobius, Saturnalia, i, 7. Cp. Varro, cit. by Lactantius, Div. Inst. i, 21. [58] G.B. iv, 14 sq., 46 sq., x, 1 sq. [59] Cp. Ward's View of the Religion of the Hindoos, 5th ed. 1863, p. 92. [60] See P.C. 105 sq. as to the various motives of human sacrifice. [61] Livy, viii, 9, 10; Lafcadio Hearn, Japan, 166; P.C., 138. [62] Cp. Kalisch, Comm. on Leviticus, 1867, i, 366; P.C. 121. [63] Robertson Smith, Semites, 391; F. B. Jevons, Introd. to Hist. of Religion, pp. 274-93. [64] P.C. 363. [65] Id. 108 sq. [66] Cp. G.B. Pt. III, The Dying God (vol. iv), 166 n., 214 sq.; P.C. 116-117, 140. [67] P.C. 364-8. [68] Cp. Kalisch, as cited; G.B., as last cited; Ps. 106, etc. [69] P.C. 158 sq. Hebrews, ix, 7, 25, suggests a cryptic meaning for the sacrifice of atonement. [70] As to Hebrew private sacraments, see P.C. 168 sq. [71] P.C. 166. I do not find that Mr. R. T. Herford deals with this matter in his valuable work on Christianity in Talmud and Midrash, 1903. [72] See below, p. 104, as to the inferrible early forms of the propaganda of the crucifixion. [73] Mr. Joseph McCabe (Sources of Gospel Morality, p. 21) argues against the myth-theory that the early Rabbis never question the historicity of Jesus. But it is extremely likely that early Rabbis did use the Barabbas argument before the gospel story was framed. In an age destitute of historical literature and of critical method or practice, it sufficed to turn their flank. [74] C.M. 352, § 21, and refs. A fair "biographical" inference would be that the betrayed Jesus had been an obscure person, not publicly known. This inference, however, is never drawn. [75] Ward's View of the Religion of the Hindoos, 5th ed. 1863, p. 91. [76] Cp. Prof. Drews, The Witnesses to the Historicity of Jesus, Eng. tr. p. 54 sq., for Niemojewski's theory that Pilate = the constellation Orion, pilatus, the javelin-bearer. This theory is not endorsed by Drews. [77] P.C. 137. [78] G.B. ix, 412 sq. [79] G.B. ix, 415, note. [80] Justin Martyr, Dial. with Trypho, c. 40. [81] G.B. ix, 357 sq. [82] P.C. 146; G.B. ix, 359. [83] Second Leben Jesu, § 83. [84] Die evang. Geschichte, p. 156. [85] G.B. Pt. III (vol. iv), 113-114. [86] "Upon an ass and [even in R.V.] upon a colt, the foal of an ass," Zech. ix, 9. I should explain that in denying that such "tautologies" were normal in the Old Testament I had in view narrative passages. [87] C.M. 338-341. [88] Gen. xlix, 11. [89] The Historical Christ, p. 22. [90] See p. 19, note, ref. to M. Durkheim. M. Durkheim is one of the greatest of anthropologists; he is not a mythologist at all. [91] C.M. 340. [92] Id. 341. [93] Id. 218, note. [94] Work cited, p. 14. [95] Id. p. 76. [96] See his Myth, Magic, and Morals, 2nd ed. p. 302. [97] Comm. in Joh. x, 16, cited by Strauss. See his first Life of Jesus, Pt. II, ch. vii, § 88, for the views of the commentators on the episode. [98] G.B. ix, 417. [99] Cultes, mythes, et religions, i, 338. [100] In John, the high priest is actually made to remonstrate from a Jewish point of view, by way of enforcing the Christian conclusion. [101] Jésus et la tradition, p. 76. [102] There might be involved, again, a reminiscence of the crucifixion of the last independent king of the Jews, Antigonus, by Mark Antony. C.M. 364. [103] C.M. 365. [104] P.C. 130 sq., 363. Cp. Robertson Smith, Religion of the Semites, p. 391; Greenidge, Roman Public Life, p. 55, citing Pliny, H.N. xviii, iii, 12. [105] Apology and Acts of Apollonius, etc., ed. by F. C. Conybeare, 1894, p. 270. Here Dr. Conybeare momentarily appears as a myth-theorist. [106] Id. p. 258. [107] P.C. 115. [108] The Christ Myth, Eng. trans. pp. 65-68. [109] Cp. Cheyne, Introd. to Isaiah, 1895, pp. 304-5, as to Ewald's theory that Jeremiah may have been meant. [110] So to be estimated whether he be "the" Deutero-Isaiah or a song-writer whose work has been incorporated. Cp. Cheyne, as cited, and his art. Isaiah in Encyc. Bib. [111] The terms "Christists" and "Jesuists" are, it need hardly be said, used for the sake of exactitude. The term "early Christians" would often convey a different and misleading idea. There were Jesuists and Christists before the "Christian" movement arose. Dr. Conybeare pronounces such terms "jargon" (Histor. Christ, p. 94). In the next line he illustrates the delicacy of his own academic taste by the terms "tag-rag and bobtail." Such slang abounds in his book, and this particular phrase recurs (p. 183). [112] It is interesting to note that in the Gospel of Peter one of the malefactors is represented as speaking to the Jews in defence of Jesus, whereupon they break his legs in vengeance. [113] Ex. xii, 46; Num. ix, 12. Cp. Ps. xxxiv, 20. [114] P.C. 113, 155. [115] Granum turis in poculo vini, ut alienetur mens ejus. Talmud, tract. Sanhedrin. [116] Vinegar in the Alexandrian Codex. [117] C.M. 367. [118] John xi, 50. [119] See the whole question minutely discussed in Strauss, Pt. III, ch. iv, § 134. [120] Zech. xii, 10. [121] P.C. 125-6. [122] Ps. xxii, 18. The citation in Mt. xxvii, 35 (omitted in R.V.) is a late interpolation, found in the Codex Sangallensis. [123] C.M. 380. [124] C.M. 364. [125] C.M. 369 sq.; P.C. 150 sq. [126] P.C. 319. [127] P.C. 151, 368, note. [128] P.C. 113, top. The preceding hypothesis with regard to the Meriah post is an error. Mr. H. G. Wood informs me he has learned from the Museum authorities at Madras that the apparent cross-bar was really a projection, representing the head of an elephant, to the trunk of which the victim was tied. [129] P.C. App. A. [130] C.M. 376. [131] P.C. 196. [132] Gal. iii, 1. [133] vi, 17. [134] De Dea Syria, 59. [135] C.M. 373. [136] P.C. 371. [137] P.C. 157. [138] C.M. 375. [139] Id. 377. [140] P.C. 166. Cp. Drews, Christ Myth, 42. [141] Judge T. L. Strange, Contributions, etc., 1881. "The Portraiture and Mission of Jesus," p. 6. [142] Cp. Charles, introd. to The Testaments of the Twelve Patriarchs, 1908, p. xvi, as to John Hyrcanus. [143] Cp. Charles, The Apocalypse of Baruch, 1896, pp. 52-53, notes. The Messiah, in the view there discussed, was to have been "concealed"--another cue for the evangelists. [144] H.J. 153 sq. [145] P.C. 304-6, 316-18; C.M. 331 and note. [146] Conybeare, Historical Christ, p. 19. [147] Col. Conder, The City of Jerusalem, 1909, p. 3, citing Rix. [148] Id. p. 9. [149] Id. p. 10; Eusebius, Life of Constantine, iii, 42. [150] Conder, p. 13. [151] Walter Menzies, Notes of a Holiday Excursion, 1897, p. 89. [152] Work cited, pp. 154-5. [153] Id. p. 156. [154] Id. p. 140. [155] "Il est à supposer," are M. Loisy's words. Jésus et la trad. évang., p. 107. [156] Myth, Magic, and Morals, 2nd edit. p. 297. [157] G.B. iv, 56. Cp. 154. [158] 1 Cor. x, 21. I say "Paul" as I say "Matthew" or "John," for brevity's sake, not at all as accepting the ascriptions of the books. Van Manen's thesis that all the Epistles of "Paul" are pseudepigraphic is probably very near the truth. [159] The retention of "devils" in the Revised Version, with "Gr. demons" only in the margin, is an abuse. For the Greeks, there were good daimons as well as bad; and "demon" is not the real equivalent of "daimon." [160] C.M. 179, note. [161] Cp. Athenæus, vi, 26-27; Schömann, Griechische Alterthümer, 3te Aufl. ii, 418-19; Foucart, Des associations religieuses, 50-52; Miss Harrison, Themis, p. 154; Menzies, History of Religion, p. 292. [162] P.C. 194 sq., 306; C.M. 381, note. [163] G.B. ix, 374 sq. [164] On the points enumerated under heads 4-7 see Schürer, Jewish People in the Time of Christ, Eng. tr. Div. II, i, 11-36. In regard to my former specification of such influences (P.C. 204), Dr. Conybeare alleges (p. 49) that I "hint" that the Jesuist mystery-play was performed "in the temples (sic) built by Herod at Damascus and Jericho, and in the theatres of the Greek town at Gadara." This cannot be regarded as one of Dr. Conybeare's hallucinations: it is one of his random falsifications. No "hint" of the kind was ever given. The mystery-play is always represented by me as secretly performed. [165] Cp. Ezra and Nehemiah. [166] P.C. 168 sq. [167] Schürer, as cited, iii, 225. [168] Thus Dr. Conybeare, constantly. Upon his view, the Essenes can never have existed. [169] Schürer, as cited, i, 3-4. [170] Cp. Gunkel, Zum Verständnis des N.T., as cited, p. 20. [171] The later documentists in such cases substituted an angel; but that was certainly not the early idea. See C.M. 112; Etheridge, Targums on the Pentateuch, i, 1862, p. 5. [172] Jer. xi, 13. [173] Ezek. viii, 14. [174] P.C. 162. [175] P.C. 321. [176] E.g. the Biblical accounts of the adoption of Canaanite Gods by Israelites who married Canaanite women. [177] E.g. the special adoption of Greek deities by Romans, apart from the political practice of enrolling deities of conquered States in the Roman Pantheon. [178] S.H.F. i, 44-45. [179] S.H.F. i, 48-49. [180] C.M. 35, and note. [181] See many details in C.M., pp. 52-57. [182] Refs. in P.C. 51, note 6. Dr. Conybeare (pp. 29, 30) meets such conclusions of scholars (Stade, Winckler, Sayce, etc.) by excluding them from his list of "serious Semitic scholars." [183] Exod. xviii, 12. [184] Gen. xiv, 18; Ps. cx, 4. [185] Heb. vii, 3. Cp. v, 6, 10; vii, 11, 17. [186] P.C. 179. [187] E.S. 115; Hatch, Hibbert Lectures, p. 291 sq. [188] Or Jehoshua--the Hebrew name of which Iesous is the Greek equivalent. [189] P.C. 163. [190] The miracle of hastening the sun's setting is in Homer (Il. xviii, 239) assigned to Hêrê, the chief Goddess. [191] P.C. 220. [192] Josh. v, 13-15 is clearly late. In ch. xxiv the angel is not mentioned. [193] P.C. 314, 315. [194] Etheridge, The Targums on the Pentateuch, 1862, p. 5. [195] The Samaritans have a late book ascribing to him many feats not given in the Jewish records. Concerning this Professor Drews wrote (Christ Myth, p. 57, note):--"The Samaritan Book of Joshua (Chronicon Samaritanum, published 1848) was written in Arabic during the thirteenth century in Egypt, and is based upon an old work compiled in the third century B.C." Dr. Conybeare (Hist. Christ, p. 33) declares the last statement to be "founded on pure ignorance," adding: "and the Encyclopædia Biblica declares it to be a medieval production of no value to anyone except the student of the Samaritan sect under Moslem rule." Be it observed (1) that Dr. Drews had actually described the book as a medieval production; (2), that his whole point was that it was legendary, not historical; and (3) that the Ency. Bib. article, which bears out both propositions, uses no such language as Dr. Conybeare ascribes to it after the word "production," and says nothing whatever on the hypothesis that the book is founded on a compilation of the third century B.C. That hypothesis, framed by Hebraists, is one upon which Dr. Conybeare has not the slightest right to an opinion. Dr. A. E. Cowley, in the Encyc. Brit., describes the book as derived from "sources of various dates." That being so, Dr. Conybeare, who as usual has wholly failed to understand what he is attacking, has never touched the position, which is that Joshua legends so flourished among the Samaritans that they are preserved in a medieval book--unless he means to allege that the legends are of medieval invention, a proposition which, indeed, would fitly consummate his excursion. [196] Yeho-shua = "Yah [or Yeho] is welfare." [197] Cp. Josh. v, 2-10. [198] Canon Charles, The Book of Jubilees, 1902, p. 9, note 29. [199] This thesis was substantially put by me in the first edition of Pagan Christs (1903). Dr. Conybeare, who appears incapable of accuracy in such matters, ascribes the Joshua theory (Hist. Christ, pp. 32, 35) and the special hypothesis that Joshua was mythically the son of Miriam, to Professor Smith, who never broached either. His pretext is a passage in the preface to the second edition of Christianity and Mythology, which he perverts in defiance of the context. On this basis he proceeds to charge "imitation." Aspersion in Dr. Conybeare's polemic is usually thus independent of fact. [200] Historical Christ, p. 17. [201] Id. pp. 8-9. [202] Neither is it put by Prof. Drews, who merely cites (above, p. 41, note) from Niemojewski, without endorsing it, an "astral" theory of Jesus and Pilate. Dr. Conybeare appears incapable of giving a true account of anything he antagonizes, whether in politics or in religion. Elsewhere Drews speaks of astral elements in the Christ story; but so do those adherents of the biographical school who recognize the zodiacal source of the Woman-and-Child myth in Revelation. [203] At another point (p. 87, note) Dr. Conybeare triumphantly cites Winckler as saying that "the humanization of the Joshua myth was complete when the book of Joshua was compiled." This grants the whole case. "Humanization" tells of previous deity; and just as Achilles remained a God after being presented in the Iliad, Joshua was "human" only for those whose sole lore concerning him was that of the Hexateuch. [204] Der vorchristliche Jesus, p. 1 sq. [205] Mk. v, 27; Lk. xxiv, 19; Acts xviii, 25; xxviii, 31. [206] Perhaps an exception should be made of Dr. Conybeare, who believes Jesus to have been a "successful exorcist" (M.M.M. p. 142). This writer sees no difficulty in the fact that in Mark Jesus is no exorcist at Nazareth, and refuses to work wonders. [207] P.C. 164. [208] Rev. xxi, 14. [209] iv, 4. [210] Cp. ii, 9; iii, 9. [211] iii, 14, 15; xix, 13. [212] Origins of Christianity, ed. 1914, p. 27. [213] Found in the Alexandrian and Vatican codices, and preferred by Lachmann, Tregelles, and Westcott and Hort. [214] to deuteron. The R.V. puts "afterward" in the text, with "Gr. the second time" in the margin. Mr. Whittaker reads "afterward" also, after "the second time"--apparently by oversight. [215] Deane, Pseudepigrapha, 1891, p. 312. [216] Josh. xxiv, 31, in Septuagint. [217] C.M. 352. [218] Art. by H. G. Wood in The Cambridge Magazine, Jan. 20, 1917, p. 216. [219] P.C. 202. [220] Cambridge Magazine, Feb. 3, 1917, p. 289. [221] G.B. v, 45 sq., 223; P.C. 364, 373-4. [222] P.C. 112 sq., 131 sq., 140, 142, 144, 352, 362-4, 368. [223] C.M. 354. I find that Volkmar (there cited) had in one of his later works put the theory that the traitor, whom he held to be an invention of the later Paulinists, would be named Juda as typifying Judaism. The myth-theory is not necessarily committed to the whole of this thesis, but the objections of Brandt (Die evang. Gesch. pp. 15-18) seem to me invalid. He always reasons on the presupposition of a central historicity, and argues as if Mark could not have been interpolated at the points where Judas is named. [224] C.M. 208, notes. [225] Der vorchristliche Jesus, 1906, Vorwort by Schmiedel, p. vii, and pp. 27-28. Ecce Deus, 1912, pp. 18, 332. [226] Ecce Deus, pp. 16, 18, 50 sq., 70, 135; Der vorchr. Jesus, p. 40. But see Ecce Deus, pp. 66 and 196, where the thesis is modified. [227] In the Literary Guide of June, 1913, Professor Smith defends his thesis against another critic. The reader should consult that article. [228] S.H.C. 33 sq. [229] Id. 35-36. [230] On this problem cp. Prof. Smith, Ecce Deus, 251 sq.; and Prof. Drews, Witnesses to the Historicity of Jesus, Eng. tr. p. 19. [231] Enoch, xxxviii, 2; liii, 6. [232] Id. xl, 5, and often. [233] Id. xlvi, 2, 3, etc. [234] Id. xlviii, 10; lii, 4. [235] Id. lxii, 5. [236] Schodde's introd. p. 51. [237] Dr. Rendel Harris, Odes of Solomon, 1909, introd. p. 72. [238] Harris, as cited, pp. 118, 125, 128, etc. [239] Dr. Harris pronounces that an account in the Odes of the Virgin Birth (xix) must be later than the first century (p. 116). But this begs the question as to the source of that myth. [240] Apropos d'hist. des religions, p. 272. [241] Refutation of all Heresies, v, 5 (11). [242] Cp. Drews, The Christ Myth, p. 54; and 2nd ed. of original, p. 24. [243] Drews, p. 59; Loisy, p. 273. [244] C.M. 316 sq. [245] C.M. 363. [246] Id. 364. [247] Hæres. XXX. [248] S.H.C. 6; C.M. 316. [249] C.M. 314. [250] Der vorchristliche Jesus, pp. 42-70; Ecce Deus, pt. vi. [251] C.M. 314. [252] Paper on "The Syriac Forms of New Testament Names," in Proc. of the British Academy, vol. v, 1912, pp. 17-18. [253] C.M. 312. The thesis was put by me twenty-eight years ago. [254] Der vorchr. Jesus, p. 54 sq. [255] C.M. 316. [256] Der vorchr. Jesus, pp. 56, 65. [257] Cp. Philo Judæus, De Profugis:--"The Divine Word ... existing as the image of God, is the eldest of all things that can be known, placed nearest, and without anything intervening, to him who alone is the self-existent." [258] Friedländer's thesis that the Minim were early Gnostics seems to be completely upset by Mr. Herford, Christianity in Talmud, p. 368 sq. [259] Id. pp. 255-266. [260] The fact that the Talmudic allusions to the Minim include no discussion of the Christist doctrine of the Messiah (Herford, pp. 277, 279) goes to show that a Messianic doctrine had been no part of the early cult, and that among the Jesuists who kept up their connection with Judaism it gathered, or kept, no hold. [261] Cp. Volkmar, Die Religion Jesu, 1857, p. 287. [262] Justin, 1 Apol. 26. [263] Id. ib. [264] See the whole subject discussed in Appendix B. [265] C. 120, end. [266] See H. J. 182. [267] Ecce Deus, p. 68. In his article in the Literary Guide, June, 1913, Professor Smith argues that only as a protest against idolatry and a crusade for monotheism could Proto-Christianity have succeeded with the Gentiles. But that was simply the line of Judaism, which had no Son-God to cloud its monotheism. Surely Jesuism appealed to the Gentiles primarily as did other Saviour-cults, ultimately distancing these by reason of organization. [268] Cp. Les Apôtres, p. 107; Saint Paul, pp. 562-3. [269] Cp. S.H.C. 82. [270] 19 Antiq. iii, 3. [271] Ecce Deus, p. 230 sq. [272] 20 Antiq. xi, 3. [273] Life, § 2. [274] XVIII, i, 6. [275] 20 Antiq. ix, 1. [276] Ecce Deus, pp. 235-6. [277] The Jesus of History and the Jesus of Tradition Identified. By George Solomon. Reeves and Turner, 1880. [278] Here Mr. Solomon, without offering any explanation, identifies Josephus's Jesus son of Sapphias, who was chief magistrate in Tiberias, with Jesus the robber captain of the borders of Ptolemais (§ 22)--a different person. I give his theory as he puts it. (Work cited, pp. 164-179.) [279] Dr. Conybeare puts it as axiomatic that Jesus always speaks in Mark "as a Jew to Jews." Thus are facts "gross as a mountain, open, palpable," sought to be outfaced by verbiage. [280] This aspect of the problem seems to be ignored by Erich Haupt (Zum Verständnis des Apostolats im neuen Testament 1896), who finds the choice of the twelve historical. [281] See the passage in Baring Gould's Lost and Hostile Gospels, 1874, p. 61; and in Herford's Christianity in Talmud and Midrash, 1903, p. 90. [282] Hibbert Journal, July, 1911, cited by Prof. Smith, Ecce Deus, p. 318. [283] C.M. 344. For the convenience of the reader I reprint in an Appendix an annotated translation I published in 1891--a revision of that of Messrs. Hitchcock and Brown, compared with a number of others. [284] Cp. "His Servant Jesus" in Acts iii, 13, 26; iv, 27, 30. [285] C.M. 415 sq. [286] Supernatural Religion, R.P.A. rep. p. 153. [287] See the notes to translation in Appendix. [288] It goes back to Jeremiah, xxi, 8. [289] Encyc. Bib. i, 261. [290] Cp. Prof. A. Seeberg, Die Didache des Judentums und der Urchristenheit, 1908, p. 8; and his previous works, cited by him. [291] C.M. 344. [292] A. Seeberg, work cited, p. 1. [293] Dr. Conybeare nevertheless (Histor. Christ, p. 3) calls it a "characteristically Christian document," in an argument which maintains the early currency and general historicity of Mark. [294] This thesis was put in C.M. 345. Yet Dr. Conybeare alleges (p. 20) that I represent Jesus as surrounded by twelve disciples solely because of the twelve signs of the zodiac. The latter item is given simply as an explanation of the calling of the twelve on a mountain (412), which Dr. Conybeare finds quite historical. [295] It was probably about the year 80 that the Jewish authorities framed the formula by which they sought to mark off "the Minim" from the Judaic fold.--Herford, Christianity in Talmud, pp. 135, 385-7. [296] Mr. Lester (The Historic Jesus, p. 84) argues that the baptism of Jesus by John must be historical, since to invent it would be gratuitously to make him "in a way subordinate to John." But when John is put as the Forerunner, acclaiming the Messiah, where is the subordination? [297] C.M. 396. [298] H.J. 135-6. [299] Encyc. Bib. art. Baptism. [300] A temporary Messianic Kingdom is set forth about 100 B.C. in the Book of Jubilees (ed. Charles, 1902, introd. p. lxxxvii). [301] Charles, introd. to the Assumption of Moses, 1897, pp. xiii-xiv, liv. [302] Id. pp. xi, 41. [303] Charles, introd. to the Apocalypse of Baruch, 1896, pp. vii-viii. [304] Id. p. lv, and refs. [305] See above, p. 117, n. [306] Above, p. 66. [307] Cp. Mk. i, 8. [308] In Hebrews vi, 2, also, baptism appears to be disparaged. But vv. 1-2 are incoherent. Green's translation gives a passable sense: the R.V. does not. [309] Acts x, 48. [310] Mt. xxviii, 19. Cp. Mk. xvi, 16. [311] Testaments, ed. Charles, 1908, pp. xvi, 121. [312] H.J. ch. vi. [313] Van Manen, as summarized by Mr. Whittaker, Origins of Christianity, ed. 1914, p. 78, citing Epiphanius, Hær. xxx, 16. [314] Id. pp. 124-5, 199. [315] Eusebius, Eccles. Hist. iii, 24. [316] Cp. Van Manen in Whittaker, p. 182. [317] E.g. the dating of the rising of Theudas before the "enrolment" of Luke (6 C.E.); whereas Josephus places it about the year 45. [318] The reference to "Aretas the King" in 2 Cor. xi, 32, one of the few possible clues in the Epistles, yields no certain date, and indeed creates a crux for the historians. See art. Aretas in Encyc. Bib. [319] Cp. Van Manen, as cited. [320] H.J. 199-203. [321] Cp. Schmiedel, art. Gospels in Encyc. Bib. col. 1890. [322] P.C. 316 n. [323] P.C. 281. [324] See S.H.F., chs. iii and v; and cp. Whittaker, Priests, Philosophers, and Prophets, 1911. [325] P.C. 67 sq. [326] S.H.F. ch. iv. [327] First put by M. Maurice Vernes, Du prétendu polythéisme des Hebreux, 1891. [328] See The Source of the Christian Tradition, by E. Dujardin: Eng. trans. R.P.A., p. 32; and the citations from MM. Vernes and Dujardin in Mr. Whittaker's Priests, Philosophers, and Prophets, 1911, pp. 124-127. [329] Mr. Whittaker (p. 128) puts the view that Jewish monotheism was really a reduction of the universalist monotheism of the Mesopotamian priesthoods to the purposes of a nationalist God-cult. [330] S.H.F. i, 44-46. [331] Even Dean Inge avows that "The distinctive feature of the Jewish religion is not, as is often supposed, its monotheism. Hebrew religion in its golden age was monolatry rather than monotheism; and when Jehovah became more strictly the only God, the cult of intermediate beings came in, and restored a quasi-polytheism."--Art. "St. Paul" in Quarterly Review, Jan. 1914, p. 54. [332] See, however, the contrary thesis maintained by Dr. A. Causse, Les Prophètes d'Israel et les religions de l'orient, 1913. [333] Ecce Deus, pp. 71, 75. [334] Cp. Whittaker, Priests, Philosophers, and Prophets, p. 45. [335] Cp. Supernatural Religion, ch. iv. [336] E.g. Art. in The Atlantic Monthly, Nov. 1916, p. 605. [337] Cp. J. A. Farrer, Paganism and Christianity, R.P.A. rep. pp., 19-20; Dr. J. E. Carpenter, Phases of Early Christianity, 1916, p. 57 sq. [338] It may be argued that the really swift triumph of Islam in a later age goes to support Professor Smith's thesis. But the triumph of Islam was primarily military. And Islam too kept its cortège of "demons." [339] E.g. in modern China. [340] P.C. 62-63. [341] S.H.F. i, 34, 72. [342] Cp. Weizsäcker, The Apostolic Age, Eng. trans, i, 55. It is just possible that among people devoutly awaiting the imminent end of the world, some such communions might have a brief existence. [343] A good support to Hobbes's thesis that the sin against the Holy Ghost is sin against the ecclesiastical power. [344] S.H.C. 70. [345] Cp. Acts xiii, 1; xv, 32; Rev. xvi, 6; xviii, 20, 24. [346] Bampton Lectures on The Organization of the Early Christian Churches, 3rd. ed. 1888, p. ix. [347] E.S. 113-115. [348] Hatch, 26. Cp. his Hibbert Lectures, p. 291 sq. [349] Id. Organization 28. [350] Id. 28; Foucart, as there cited. [351] As Hatch notes, p. 35, Clemens Romanus (ii, 16) echoes Tobit, xii, 8, 9, as to the blessedness of almsgiving. Cp. his citations from Lactantius, Chrysostom, and the Apostolical Constitutions. [352] Hatch, p. 35. [353] Id. p 35. [354] Hatch, p. 37. [355] S.H.C. 87 sq. [356] Hatch, 29. [357] "The Broken" is used as a noun: bread is only understood. Evidently the breaking was vitally symbolic, as is explained in the context. Cp. Luke xxiv, 30, 35. [358] Irenæus, Against Heresies, v, 3. [359] See Introd. to Messrs. Hitchcock and Brown's (American) ed., 1885, p. lxxviii. [360] Above, p. 132. [361] C.M. 422. [362] Bousset in Encyc. Bib. i, 209, following Gunkel, Schöpfung und Chaos. [363] Cp. R. Brown, Jr., Primitive Constellations, 1899, i, 64-65, 104, 119, etc.; G. Schiaparelli, Astronomy in the O. T., 1905, p. 72; Hon. Emmeline M. Plunket, Ancient Calendars and Constellations, 1903, 117-123, and maps; and Hippolytus, Ref. of all Heresies, v, 47-49. [364] Rev. xviii, 2, 21. [365] Encyc. Bib. art. James. [366] A view independently put before his (1896) by the present writer. [367] Admirably summarized by Mr. T. Whittaker in his Origins of Christianity. Cp. Van Manen's art. Paul in Encyc. Bib. [368] Dr. F. C. Conybeare has indicated the view that, Van Manen's chair having been offered to him after Van Manen's death, he is in a position to dispose of Van Manen's case by expressing his contempt for it. And Dr. Conybeare is prepared to accept as genuine the whole of the epistles, a position rejected by all the professional critics except the extreme traditionalists. [369] Eusebius, Hist. Eccles. iii, 39, end. [370] This term, it will be noted, tells of an abstract or generalized and not of a "personal" tradition. [371] Irenæus, Against Heresies, v, 33. [372] Canon Charles, note on Apoc. Baruch, xxix, 5. [373] Myth, Magic, and Morals, 2nd ed. p. 58. [374] Id. p. 53. [375] E. B. Nicholson, The Gospel according to the Hebrews, 1879, p. 101. [376] Id. p. 104. [377] C.M. 403 sq. [378] Art. Gospels in Encyc. Bib. cols. 1868, 1872. [379] Art. Gospels in Encyc. Bib. cols. 1767, 1846. [380] 2 Kings i, 8: R.V. marg. [381] This thesis is put by the Professor in art. Gospels in Encyc. Bib. col. 1881; also, at greater length, in his lecture, Jesus in Modern Criticism, and his work on The Johannine Writings (Eng. trans.; Black, 1907, 1908). [382] I have dealt with the nine texts seriatim in C.M. 441 sq., and P.C. 229 sq. They are more fully and very ably discussed by Prof. Smith (Ecce Deus, Part III), with most though not with all of whose criticism I am in agreement. [383] Eng. trans. p. 31. [384] P.C. 234. [385] Pref. to Eng. trans. of Arno Neumann's Jesus, 1906, p. xx. [386] Work cited, p. 9. [387] Unless we take the story of Thomas to be an invention to confute doubters. [388] See above, p. 113 sq., as to the Nazaræans. [389] De Principiis, iv, 22. [390] B. v, c. 61. [391] Cp. Neander, Church Hist. Bohn trans. i, 482-3. Jerome speaks (In Matt. xii, 13) of the gospel quo utuntur Nazaraei et Ebionitae, as if they held it in common. Cp. Nicholson, p. 28. [392] Hippolytus, Ref. of all Heresies, vii, 22. [393] Dialogue with Trypho, 47-49. [394] Neander, as cited, p. 482 and refs. [395] Epiphanius, Hær. xxx, 16. [396] Nicholson, pp. 15, 34, 61, 77. [397] Jesus in Modern Criticism, p. 33. [398] Cp. the Professor's work on The Johannine Writings, p. 90, where the same query: "Who could have invented them?" is put as establishing special sayings of Buddha, Confucius, Zarathustra, and Mohammed. I cannot follow the logic. [399] The argument is the same whether we say "inventions of the evangelists" or "appropriations from other documents, or from hearsay." [400] P.C. 218 sq.; C.M. 395. [401] P.C. 206, 223, 228; C.M. 395. [402] Compare the story of Joseph, Gen. xxxix. [403] Irenæus, Against Heresies, i, 26. [404] Ecce Deus, p. 60. [405] Id. pp. 171-2. [406] Cp. Ecce Deus, p. 26. [407] Dr. Thorburn (Mythical Interpretation, p. 34) sees fit to argue that the Christian phatnê was a "totally different thing" from the pagan liknon (that is, if he argues anything at all). He carefully ignores the sculptures which show them to be the same. (C.M. 192, 307.) [408] Cp. Soltau on the appeal made by the story (Birth of Jesus Christ, Eng. tr. p. 4). "What is there," he asks, "that can be compared with this in the religious literature of any other people?" The critic should compare the literature of Krishnaism. [409] Ludwig Conrady argues (Die Quelle der kanonischen Kindheitsgeschichte Jesus', 1900, p. 272 sq.) that the stories of the Infancy in the Apocryphal Gospels, which appear to be at that point the sources for Matthew and Luke, probably derive from Egypt, where the hieratic ideals of virginity were high. This may be, but the evidence is very imperfect. [410] The precedents of the divine paternity of Alexander and Augustus, stressed by Soltau, would surely be inadequate. Heathen emperors would hardly be "types" for early Christians. [411] The Rev. Dr. Thorburn idly argues (Mythical Interpretation, pp. 38-39) that such stories do not affirm parthenogenesis where a Goddess or a woman is described as married. As if Mary were not in effect so described! But in Greek mythology we have the special case of the spouse-goddess Hêrê, who is repeatedly represented as conceiving without congress. (C.M. 295.) [412] P.C. 166, note 3. [413] C.M. 99; P.C. 165. [414] C.M. 191 sq., 306 sq. [415] Encyc. Bib. art. Moses, col. 3206. [416] C.M. 298. [417] Id. 167 sq. [418] C.M. 168-9. Cp. Dr. G. Contenau, La déesse nue Babylonienne, 1914, pp. 7, 15, 16, 57, 78, 80, 101, 129, 131. [419] C.M. 180-205. [420] Soltau argues not only that the belief in the Virgin Birth "could not have originated in Palestine; anyhow, it could never have taken its rise in Jewish circles," but that "the idea that the Holy Spirit begat Jesus can have no other than a Hellenic origin" (Birth of Jesus Christ, Eng. trans, pp. 47-48). He forgets the "sons of God" in Genesis vi, 2. The stories of the births of Isaac and Samson inferribly had an original form less decorous than the Biblical. [421] It is doubly edifying to remember that the writer who pretends to find in avowed analogies of divine names, functions, and epithets a theory of a philological "equation," himself insists on finding in every New Testament naming of a Jesus, and every pagan allusion to a "Chrestus" or "Christus," a biographical allusion to Jesus of Nazareth. For Dr. Conybeare, the Jesus of the Apocalypse and the "Chrestus" of Suetonius are testimonies to the existence of Jesus the son of Mary and Joseph. The very absurdity he seeks to find in the myth-theory is inherent in his own method. [422] C.M. 301-2 and refs. [423] The Rev. Dr. Thorburn (Mythical Interpretation, p. 21) cites from the Encyc. Bib. as "the words of Dr. Cheyne" words which are not Cheyne's at all, but those of Robertson Smith. Smith, so scientific in his anthropology, is always irrationalist in his theology. [424] R.V. "enrolment." Dr. Thorburn appears to argue (p. 39) that the "taxing" story in the Krishna-myth is derived from "ignorant copying" of the English Authorized Version! The "to be taxed" of the A.V. of course represents the traditional interpretation--that taxing was the object of the enrolment. [425] C.M. 189-90. [426] C.M. 273. [427] I have been represented, by scholars who will not take the trouble to read the books they attack, as deriving the Christ-myth in general from the Krishna-myth. This folly belongs solely to their own imagination. Dr. Conybeare's assertion (Histor. Christ, p. 69) that in my theory the Proto-Christian Joshua-God was a composite myth "made up of memories of Krishna ... and a hundred other fiends," is of the same order. In his case, of course, I do not charge omission to read the statement he falsifies: it is simply a matter of his normal inability to understand any position he attacks. As regards the Krishna-myth I suggest only in the detail of the "taxing" the possibility of Christian borrowing through an intermediate source: in another, that of "the bag" which is carried by a hostile demon-follower of Krishna (C.M. 241-3), I suggest the possibility of Indian borrowing from the fourth gospel, where "the bag" is presumptively derived from a stage accessory in the mystery-drama, Judas carrying a bag to receive his reward. [428] C.M. 205 sq. [429] C.M. 207. [430] Id. 347 sq.; Drews, Die Petrus Legende (pamphlet), 1910. [431] Dr. Conybeare, undeviating in error, represents me (Histor. Christ, p. 73) as suggesting that the epithet bifrons led to the invention of the story of Peter's Denial. I had expressly pointed out that the epithet bifrons did not carry an aspersive sense, and suggested that the figure of Janus, with its Petrine characteristics, might have inspired the story of the Denial (C.M. 350-1). The subject of iconographic myth is evidently unknown matter to Dr. Conybeare. [432] C.M. 318 sq. [433] Die Versuchung Jesu (in Zur Gesch. und Litt. des Urchristentums, III, ii, 1907, pp. 53, 65.) [434] The simple principle of holding Mark for primary wherever it is brief has meant many such assumptions, in which many of us once uncritically acquiesced. [435] As cited, p. 85. [436] Id. pp. 92-93. [437] Test. Naphtali, viii, 4. [438] This is ably argued by Prof. Smith. [439] C.M. 329 sq. [440] Id. 335 sq. [441] Cp. Soltau, Das Fortleben des Heidentums in d. altchr. Kirche, 1906; S.H.C. 67 sq., 101 sq.; J. A. Farrer, Paganism and Christianity, R.P.A. rep. passim. [442] C.M. 220 and note 2. Cp. W. J. Wilkins, Paganism in the Papal Church, 1901. [443] Cp. Saint-Yves, Les Saints successeurs des Dieux, 1907; J. Rendel Harris, The Dioscuri in the Christian Legends, 1903. [444] Compare Soltau's remarks on the hostility still shown to professional scholars who merely reject the Virgin Birth (work cited, p. 2), and the plea of Brandt for his piety (Die evangelische Geschichte, Vorwort). [445] Apropos d'histoire des religions, end. [446] Compare the recent volume of debate between Dr. Sanday and the Rev. N. P. Williams on Form and Content in the Christian Tradition. Mr. Williams argues against Dr. Sanday--who is less destructive in his criticism than M. Loisy--in this very fashion. [447] Essay on Dr. Johnson (1884). [448] Apropos d'histoire des religions, p. 320. [449] Jésus et la trad. évang. pp. 286, 288. [450] Id. p. 277. [451] Jesus in Modern Criticism, p. 85. [452] Id. p. 86. [453] Id. p. 12. [454] Id. p. 87. [455] Jesus in Modern Criticism, pp. 79-81. [456] C.M. 392. [457] C.M. p. 90. [458] So far as I am aware, the only explicit condemnation passed in the German Reichstag on the German submarine policy has been delivered by the Socialist Adolf Hoffmann, a professed Freethinker. He pronounced it "shameful," and was duly called to order. [459] I have briefly put the case in pref. to S.H.C. [460] Dr. Rendel Harris, on the other hand, in effect avows that his heart is warmed by fictitious "Odes of Solomon," in which the writer puts imaginary language in the mouth of the Christ. [461] See J. McCabe, Sources of the Morality of the Gospels, R.P.A., 1914. [462] C.M. 403 sq. [463] Test. Gad, vi, 1-7. [464] Canon Charles, in loc. [465] There are many such close parallels of thought and diction between the two books. See Canon Charles's introduction, § 26. [466] In The Historical Jesus, pp. 23-26, I had to point out how two Doctors of Divinity, of high pretensions, had scornfully denied that that story had ever been transcended, and how signally they erred. The second, the Rev. Dr. T. J. Thorburn, has since produced another work, in which the subject is carefully ignored. When theologians thus exhibit themselves as morally colour-blind, they relieve us of the necessity of proving at any length how congenitally incompetent they are to determine the moral problems of sociology by the authority they presume to flaunt. [467] Schmiedel, Jesus, end. [468] Art. Acts in Encyc. Bib., citing iv, 20; xiv, 22; xx, 24; xxi, 13; xxiv, 16. [469] Egyptian Magic, 1899, pref. [470] Comparative Religion, 1912, p. 57. [471] Set forth in the National Reformer, May 15, 1887. Barnabas in effect avows that he is copying previous teaching. [472] There are two titles. It is surmised, with good reason, that this was the original, though Mr. Gordon argues that it may be Sabellian, and of the third or fourth century. The "Lord" (the name is here used without the article, which was normally used in Christian writings) refers to the God of the Jews, not to Jesus. [473] A pagan as well as a Jewish commonplace. Cp. Jeremiah xxi, 8; Hesiod, Works and Days, 285 sq.; Xenophon, Memorabilia, ii, 1; Persius, Sat. iii, 56. Persius followed Pythagoras, who taught that the ways of virtue and vice were like the thin and thick lines of the letter Y. This is the origin of the Christian formula of the broad and the narrow path. The conception of "the right way" is found among the ancient Persians. Meyer, Geschichte des Alterthums, i, 539 (§ 448). [474] Cp. Levit. xix, 18; Matt. xxii, 37-39. [475] Cp. Tobit iv, 15; Matt. vii, 12. Hillel (Talmud, Sabbath, 306) puts the rule, as here, in the sane negative form, which is also the Chinese. The gospel form is less rational. The sentiment is the first principle of morals, and is common to all religions and all races. [476] Cp. Matt. v, 44; Prov. xxv, 21; Talmud refs. in C.M. 406; and Test. of Twelve Patr. Dan. iii, iv; Gad, iii-vi. Canon Spence notes that the resemblance between the Testaments and the Didachê is "very marked." Note that in the Revised Version the text in Matthew is cut down--a recognition of tampering, in imitation of Luke vi, 27-8. [477] Gr. "the nations" = "the Gentiles." Here, as elsewhere, we render by an English idiom, which gives the real force of the original. It will be observed that the compilers of the first gospel (v, 46) substitute "tax-gatherers" for the original, by way of applying the discourse to Jews in Palestine, where the tax-gatherers represented foreign oppression. [478] A probable interpolation. [479] Cp. Lament. iii, 30, and the pagan parallels cited by Mr. McCabe, Sources of Mor. of Gospels, pp. 229, 231. [480] This clause, which is not in Matthew, is intelligible only as an exhortation to Jews in foreign lands. The reference to 1 Cor. vi, 1, cannot make it plausible as a Christian utterance. [481] This is otherwise translated by the Rev. Mr. Heron, Church of the Sub-Apostolic Age, p. 16, thus: "the Father wisheth men to give to all from their private portion"; and by Dr. Taylor, Teaching, 1886, p. 122, thus: "the Father wills that to all men there be given of our own free gifts." [482] Cp. Acts xx, 35. That passage probably derives from this, and loses point in the transference. [483] Mr. Heron renders this "under discipline," because the early Church had no prison for its backsliders. Quite so. The reference is to Pagan prisons, and the warning is to Jewish beggars. The Greek phrase, en synochê, here clearly refers to a prison, though in Luke xxi, 25, it is rendered "distress" and in 2 Cor. ii, 4, "anguish." Cp. Josephus, 8 Ant. iii, 2. Canon Spence, who translates "being in sore straits," offers the alternative "coming under arrest." [484] Cp. Ecclesiasticus, xii, 1 sq. It will be observed that the concluding clause modifies the earlier precept of indiscriminate giving. It may be an addition. [485] A more developed teaching is found in the Testaments of the Patriarchs, as above cited. [486] Gr. zêlôtês. The American editors translate this "jealous"; but Mr. Heron and Dr. Taylor more faithfully render it "a zealot," though this, a natural warning to Jews, would come oddly to Christians. "Zealot" specified a fanatical Jewish type (Luke vi, 15; Acts i, 13; xxi, 20), but the Jesuists were exhorted to be "zealous" (same word) in 1 Cor. xiv, 12; Tit. ii, 14. Nowhere are Christian "zealots" rebuked; but Jewish fanatics in foreign lands needed warning from peace-loving teachers. On the other hand, the rendering "jealous" is evidently adopted because of the very difficulty of conceiving that Christian teachers would warn their flocks against being either "zealous" or "zealots." The context, however, clearly justifies our translation. [487] Gr. "high-eyed." The meaning evidently is "always looking at people," and there is implied the injunction to look down, as is the wont of nuns. Since deciding on the rendering given, we notice that the Rev. A. Gordon, in his translation (sold at Essex Hall, Essex Street), has "bold of eye." Dr. Taylor has "of high looks." [488] Mr. Gordon has "a diviner from birds"; M. Sabatier "augure"; Dr. Taylor "given to augury." [489] Mr. Gordon has "a fire lustrator." [490] Cp. Matt. v, 5. [491] Gr. "the high" = the upper or ruling classes. [492] Cp. Heb. xiii, 7. [493] Gr. hê kyriotês. Messrs. Gordon and Heron render "whence the lordship is spoken" or "proclaimed." In the New Testament (Eph. i, 21; Col. i, 16; Jude viii; 2 Pet. ii, 10) the same word is rendered "dominion" by the Revisers. [494] Mr. Gordon adds here "in praying" in brackets. This is a guess, which seems to have no warrant, though Canon Spence leans to it. The sentence connects with the preceding one. [495] Cp. Dan. iv, 27; Test. Patr. Zabulon, viii. [496] Cp. Acts iv, 32. Here we seem to have the hint for the legend. [497] Cp. Prov. xiii, 24; xxii, 15; xxiii, 13-14; xxix, 17; Ecclus. vii, 23-4; xxx, 1-2. A common Jewish sentiment, not found in the New Testament. Cp. Eph. vi, 4. [498] Or type. Here, as in the New Testament, there is not the faintest pretence of impugning slavery. The resistance to that began among Pagans, not among Jews or Christians. [499] Gr. zêlotypia. This is the normal Greek word for jealousy. Here, however, Mr. Heron has "envy," perhaps rightly. [500] The American editors have "pursuing revenge." [501] So Mr. Heron, we think rightly. M. Sabatier agrees. The American editors have "toiling for," and Mr. Gordon "labouring for." [502] Or, handiwork. [503] Probably a river or the sea. Cp. Carpenter, Phases of Christianity, p. 244, citing the Canons of Hippolytus. [504] The Syrian method, introduced into Europe after the Crusades. [505] The Jews, at least the Pharisees, fasted on Monday and Thursday, the days of the ascent and descent of Moses to and from Sinai. [506] That is, Friday, called "the preparation" (for the Sabbath) by the Jews. Mr. Heron notes that the Christians fasted on Wednesdays and Fridays, but does not explain how a Christian document came to use the Jewish expression with no Christian qualification. [507] After all the previous allusions to "the Lord" (without the article, save once in ch. iv and once in ch. vi) had plainly signified "God," we here have "the Lord" (with the article) suddenly used in a clearly Christian sense, to signify Jesus. The transition is flagrant. [508] That is, in the original sense, thank-offering, as Mr. Gordon notes. Now, the sacrament, as instituted in the gospels, is not a thank-offering. It is evidently from the Didachê, or similar early lore, that the word comes to be used for the sacrament by the Fathers. It is never so used in the New Testament. [509] As the American editors note, Clement of Alexandria (Quis Dives Salvetur, § 29) calls Jesus "the vine of David." As Jesus is "the vine" in the fourth gospel, but not in the synoptics, we may surmise that the Didachê was current at Alexandria. [510] Gr. paidos. Canon Spence and Mr. Heron render "Son"; but this is not the normal word for son (huios), and the same term is used for David and Jesus. It is rendered "servant" in Acts iii, 13, 26; iv, 27, R.V. [511] Gr. "in the ages." [512] Cp. Matt. vii, 6. There is no such application there. [513] Mr. Heron takes this to signify that the love-feast accompanied the Eucharist. But he notes, from Dr. Taylor, that the Jews had their chagigah before the Passover, in order that the latter might be eaten "after being filled." Mr. Gordon translates: "After the full reception." [514] Gr. despota. The American editors (who render it "Master") note that this word becomes rare in Christian literature towards the latter part of the second century. [515] So in the MS. Bryennios conjectures huiô (Son) for theô, but this does not justify the alteration of the text by several editors. [516] A Syriac phrase meaning not, as is sometimes said, "The Lord cometh," but "The Lord is come." It was presumably an ancient formula in the prayers hailing the rise of the sun. [517] It is difficult to reconcile this arrangement with any of the New Testament data as to the practice of the Jesuist apostles. Cp. Canon Spence, p. 91, as to "the Jewish habit of wandering from place to place." [518] Cp. Mk. iii, 28-30; Matt. xii, 31; 1 Thess. v, 19, 20. [519] The American editors have "a meal"; Canon Spence "a Love-Feast." See his note. And cp. Jevons, Introd. to Hist. of Religion, p. 333, as to the Greek agyrtes. [520] On this obscure passage Mr. Heron has a long note, which, however, supplies little light. Dr. Taylor notes that a "cosmic mystery" [Gr. mystêrion kosmikon] is "the manifestation in the phenomenal world of a 'mystery of the upper world,'" citing the Zohar. Canon Spence suggests that the "table" connects with the "mystery." [521] Gr. christemporos. Warnings of this kind are given in the Epistles of Barnabas, Ignatius, and Polycarp. See Canon Spence's note. [522] Note the remarkable advance in the economic provision for the preacher, clearly a later item than ch. xi. [523] Canon Spence rightly translates: "on the Lord's Lord's-day." This singular phrase is obscured by the American editors, who simply translate "the Lord's day." The Greek is kyriakên Kyriou. It is thus clear that the expression "Lord's day" was in Pagan use, and that the phrase "Lord's-day of [the] Lord" was an adaptation of the standing expression to either Jewish or Jesuist use. This chapter may have belonged to the pre-Christian document. There is no allusion to the crucifixion. [524] Here the reference is clearly to Yahweh. The document cannot have been originally written with the same title used indifferently of Yahweh and Jesus. [525] Mal. i, 11. [526] Literally, "perform the liturgy" = "serve the (public) service." [527] Here we have the Christist expression. [528] This may have been a Jesuist allusion to Bar Cochab, about the year 135. [529] Or "outspreading." [530] An early support for the "Conditional Immortality Association." [531] Apol. i, 26. [532] If we could but trust the assertion of Origen in the next century (Against Celsus, vi, 11) that there were then no Simonians left, the presumption would be that they had been absorbed by another cult. [533] Ovid, Fasti, vi, 213; Livy, viii, 20. [534] Cory's Ancient Fragments, ed. 1876, p. 92; Lenormant's Chaldean Magic, Eng. tr., p. 131. [535] Sanchoniathon, in Cory, as cited, p. 5. [536] Eratosthenes' Canon of Theban Kings, in Cory as cited, pp. 139-141. [537] Diodorus Siculus, ii, 4. [538] Bible Folk Lore, 1884, p. 45; cp. Steinthal on Samson, Eng. tr., with Goldziher, p. 408. [539] Movers, Die Phönizier, i, 558. [540] Goldziher, Hebrew Mythology, Eng. tr., p. 132; cp. Buttmann, Mythologus, 1828, i, 221, and Sanchoniathon, as above. [541] Volkmar, Die Religion Jesu, 1857, p. 281. [542] Meyer, Geschichte des Alterthums, 1884, i, 214 n. [543] McClintock and Strong's Bib. Cycl. s. v. [544] Chaldean Magic, Eng. tr., p. 44. [545] Against Celsus, v, 45. [546] See it in McClintock and Strong's Cycl. s. v.; cp. Schürer, Jewish Nation in Time of Christ, Eng. tr., Div. ii, Vol. ii, p. 83, where the prayer is given as the Shemoneh Esreh. [547] Schürer, p. 88. [548] McClintock and Strong's Bib. Cycl. s. v. [549] 1 Samuel xxviii, 13. [550] 1 Kings xvi, 24. [551] Die Religion Jesu, as cited. [552] 12 Antiq. v, 5. [553] G. L. Bauer, Theol. of the Old Test., Eng. tr., 1837, p. 5; Etheridge, The Targums on the Pentateuch, i (1862), introd., pp. 5, 14, 17. [554] Bauer and Etheridge, as cited. [555] Gieseler, Comp. of Ec. Hist., Eng. tr., i, 48. [556] De Dea Syria, c. 33. [557] Die Phönizier, i, 417, 634. [558] Lenormant, as cited, p. 129. [559] Justin, Apol. i, 26; Irenæus, i, 23, § 2; Tertullian, De Anima, 34. [560] Die christliche Gnosis, 1835, p. 309. [561] De Dea Syria, 40. [562] Id. 32. [563] Lenormant, as cited, p. 117. [564] Irenæus, as cited. [565] Lucian, as cited. [566] Reland, Dissertat. Miscellan., Pars i, 1706, p. 147; cp. Enc. Bib. art. Samaritans, 4a. The dove was everywhere regarded in Syria as sacred, in connection with the myth of Semiramis (Diodorus, ii, 4), which bears so closely on the name Samaria. [567] John viii, 48. [568] Mem. the aged Simeon of Luke ii, who blessed the child Jesus. "The Holy Spirit was upon him" (v. 25). With him is associated Anna the Prophetess. Cp. Hannah, mother of Samuel. [569] Professor Smith, who accepts the historicity of Simon (Ecce Deus, pp. 11, 103) does so without noting that it has been challenged. It would be interesting to have his grounds for discriminating between the God and the man. [570] McClintock and Strong's Bib. Cyc. [571] Kuenen, Religion of Israel, Eng. tr., iii, 314. [572] 1 Cor. xv, 10; 2 Cor. xi, 13, 23; Gal. i, 7; ii, 11. [573] 1 Cor. xv, 9; 2 Cor. xii, 4; Gal. i, 12. [574] Even a late copyist or reader of one of the Clementine MSS. confusedly recognised a hostility to Paul as underlying his text. See Anti-Nicene Lib. trans., Recog. i, 70. [575] Acts iii, 1-12, etc.; xiv, 8-15, etc. [576] Gal. ii, 11-14. [577] See the whole data discussed in Baur, Ch. Hist. of the First Three Cent., Eng. tr., i, 91-98, etc.; Paul, Eng. tr., i, 88, 95, etc.; Zeller, Contents and Origin of the Acts, Eng. tr., i, 250 sq.; Volkmar, Die Religion Jesu; Schmiedel, art. Simon Magus in Encyc. Bib. [578] Cp. 2 Cor. xi, 4. [579] John iv, 21. 
6038	----	This eBook was produced by Charles Aldarondo, Charles Franks and The Online Distributed Proofreading team. THE GREAT DOCTRINES OF THE BIBLE By REV. WILLIAM EVANS, Ph.D., D.D. DEDICATED TO MY WIFE CONTENTS THE DOCTRINE OF GOD THE DOCTRINE OF JESUS CHRIST THE DOCTRINE OF THE HOLY SPIRIT THE DOCTRINE OF MAN THE DOCTRINES OF SALVATION Repentance--Faith--Regeneration--Justification--Adoption-- Sanctification--Prayer THE DOCTRINE OF THE CHURCH THE DOCTRINE OF THE SCRIPTURES THE DOCTRINE OF ANGELS THE DOCTRINE OF SATAN THE DOCTRINE OF THE LAST THINGS The Second Coming of Christ--The Resurrection--The Judgment--The Destiny of the Wicked--The Reward of the Righteous FOREWORD. The demand for this book has come from the students in the class room who have listened to these lectures on the Great Doctrines of the Bible, and have desired and requested that they be put into permanent form for the purpose of further study and reference. This volume is prepared, therefore, primarily, but not exclusively, for the student, and with his needs in mind. The doctrines herein treated are dealt with from the standpoint of Biblical rather than Dogmatic theology. This is evident from the plan which is followed in the work, namely, to gather together all the Scripture passages dealing with the subject under consideration, and from them choose a required number that may be called representative; then seek to understand the meaning of these references by the study of the text itself as well as its context and parallel passages; and finally, from the selected proof-texts, formulate the doctrinal teaching, and place such results under appropriate headings. The doctrines of God, Jesus Christ, and the Holy Spirit are more fully dealt with than the doctrines which follow. This is especially true of the doctrine of God. The reason for this is to set forth the method pursued in these studies, and to give a pattern for the study of the doctrines to follow. It is intended that the doctrines of this book should be studied side by side with the open Bible. It is for this reason that many of the Scripture references are indicated by chapter and verse only. There must be constant reference to the Scriptures themselves. This volume is in such form as to be of great service in the instruction given in Bible classes. There is probably no greater need in the Christian church today than that its membership should be made acquainted with the fundamental facts and doctrines of the Christian faith. The Christian layman, therefore, who desires a deeper knowledge of the doctrines of the Christian faith may find all the help he needs in this book. It is hoped that while it is prepared for the student, it is nevertheless not too deep for the average layman. The special indebtedness of the writer is hereby expressed to the following works: "What the Bible Teaches," by R. A. Torrey, D. D. To this work the writer owes much with regard to the method and plan of this book. "Systematic Theology," by A. H. Strong, D. D., has provided some rich expositions of the sacred text. "Christian Doctrine," by Dr. F. L. Patton, has been found very helpful, especially in connection with the subject of the "Proofs for the Existence of God." Further recognition of indebtedness is also due to the following: "The Problem of the Old Testament," and "The Christian View of God and the World," by Dr. James Orr; "Studies in Christian Doctrine," by George Knapp; "Jesus and the Gospel," and "The Death of Christ," by Prof. James Denny; "The Person and Work of Jesus," by Nathan E. Wood, D. D. There are doubtless others to whom credit is due of whom the author is not at this time conscious, for, after all, we are "part of all that we have seen, and met, and read." To those unknown authors, therefore, our indebtedness is hereby acknowledged. _Chicago._ WILLIAM EVANS. THE DOCTRINE OF GOD I. THE EXISTENCE OF GOD: (Vs. Atheism). 1. ASSUMED BY THE SCRIPTURES. 2. PROOFS OF THE EXISTENCE OF GOD. a) Universal belief in the Existence of God. b) Cosmological:--Argument from Cause. c) Teleological:--Argument from Design. d) Ontological:--Argument from Being. e) Anthropological:--Moral Argument. f) Argument from Congruity. g) Argument from Scripture. II. THE NATURE OF GOD: (Vs. Agnosticism) 1. THE SPIRITUALITY OF GOD: (Vs. Materialism). 2. THE PERSONALITY OF GOD: (Vs. Pantheism). 3. THE UNITY OF GOD: (Vs. Polytheism). 4. THE TRINITY: (Vs. Unitarianism). III. THE ATTRIBUTES OF GOD. 1. THE NATURAL ATTRIBUTES: a) Omniscience. b) Omnipotence. c) Omnipresence. d) Eternity. 2. THE MORAL ATTRIBUTES: a) Holiness. b) Righteousness. c) Faithfulness. d) Mercy and Loving-kindness. e) Love. I. HIS EXISTENCE. 1. TAKEN FOR GRANTED BY THE SCRIPTURE WRITERS: It does not seem to have occurred to any of the writers of either the Old or the New Testaments to attempt to prove or to argue for the existence of God. Everywhere and at all times it is a fact taken for granted. "A God capable of proof would be no God at all" (Jacobi). He is the self-existent One (Exod. 3:14) and the Source of all life (John 5:26). The sublime opening of the Scriptures announces the fact of God and His existence: "In the beginning God" (Gen. 1:1). Nor is the rise or dawn of the idea of God in the mind of man depicted. Psa. 14:1: "The fool hath said in his heart. There is no God," indicates not a disbelief in the existence, but rather in the active interest of God in the affairs of men--He seemed to hide Himself from the affairs of men (See Job 22:12-14). The Scriptures further recognize that men not only know of the existence of God, but have also a certain circle of ideas as to who and what He is (Rom. 1:18-19). No one but a "fool" will deny the fact of God. "What! no God? A watch, and no key for it? A watch with a main-spring broken, and no jeweler to fix it? A watch, and no repair shop? A time-card and a train, and nobody to run it? A star lit, and nobody to pour oil in to keep the wick burning? A garden, and no gardener? Flowers, and no florist? Conditions, and no conditioner?" He that sitteth in the heavens shall laugh at such absurd atheism. 2. THE ARGUMENTS FOR THE EXISTENCE OF GOD. [Footnote: A fuller and complete presentation of these arguments for the Existence of God may be found in the works of Dr. Augustus H. Strong and Dr. Francis L. Patten, to whom the author is here indebted.] These arguments may not prove conclusively that God is, but they do show that in order to the existence of any knowledge, thought, reason, conscience in man, we must assume that God is (Strong). It is said of the beautiful, "It may be shown, but not proved." So we say of the existence of God. These arguments are probable, not demonstrative. For this reason they supplement each other, and constitute a series of evidences which is cumulative in its nature. Though taken singly, none of them can be considered absolutely decisive, they together furnish a corroboration of our primitive conviction of God's existence, which is of great practical value, and is in itself sufficient to bind the moral actions of men. A bundle of rods may not be broken even though each one separately may; the strength of the bundle is the strength of the whole. If in practical affairs we were to hesitate to act until we have absolute and demonstrable certainty, we should never begin to move at all. Instead of doubting everything that can be doubted, let us rather doubt nothing until we are compelled to doubt. Dr. Orr, of Glasgow, says: What we mean by the proof of God's existence is simply that there are necessary acts of thought by which we rise from the finite to the infinite, from the caused to the uncaused, from the contingent to the necessary, from the reason involved in the structure of the universe to a universal and eternal reason, which is the ground of all, from morality in conscience to a moral Lawgiver and Judge. In this connection the theoretical proofs constitute an inseparable unity--'constitute together,' as Dr. Stirling declares, "but the undulations of a single wave, which wave is but a natural rise and ascent to God, on the part of man's own thought, with man's own experience and consciousness as the object before him." Religion was not produced by proofs of God's existence, and will not be destroyed by its insufficiency to some minds. Religion existed before argument; in fact, it is the preciousness of religion that leads to the seeking for all possible confirmations of the reality of God. a) Universality of Belief in the Existence of God. (1) The fact stated and proven: Man everywhere believes in the existence of a supreme Being or Beings to whom he is morally responsible and to whom propitiation needs to be made. Such belief may be crudely, even grotesquely stated and manifested, but the reality of the fact is no more invalidated by such crudeness than the existence of a father is invalidated by the crude attempts of a child to draw a picture of its father. It has been claimed by some that there are or were tribes in inland Africa that possessed no idea or conception of God. Moffat, Livingstone's father-in-law, made such a claim, but Livingstone, after a thorough study of the customs and languages of such tribes, conclusively showed that Moffat was wrong. Nor should the existence of such few tribes, even if granted, violate the fact we are here considering, any more than the existence of some few men who are blind, lame, deaf, and dumb would make untrue the statement and fact that man is a seeing, hearing, speaking, and walking creature. The fact that some nations do not have the multiplication table does no violence to arithmetic. Concerning so-called atheists in Christian lands: it may be questioned if there are really any such beings. Hume, known as a famous sceptic, is reported to have said to Ferguson, as together they looked up into the starry sky: "Adam, there is a God." Voltaire, the atheist, prayed to God in a thunderstorm. Ingersoll, when charged with being an atheist, indignantly refuted the charge, saying: "I am not an atheist; I do not say that there is no God; I am an agnostic; I do not know that there is a God." "I thank God that I am an atheist," were the opening words of an argument to disprove the existence of God. A new convert to atheism was once heard to say to a coterie of unbelievers: "I have gotten rid of the idea of a supreme Being, and I thank God for it." (2) Whence comes this universal belief in the existence of God? aa) _Not from outside sources_, such as reason, tradition, or even the Scriptures. _Not from reason or argument_, for many who believe in God have not given any time to reasoning and arguing the question; some, indeed, intellectually, could not. Others who have great powers of intellect, and who have reasoned and argued on the subject are professed disbelievers in God. Belief in God is not the result of logical arguments, else the Bible would have given us proofs. _Nor did this universal belief come from tradition_, for "Tradition," says Dr. Patton, "can perpetuate only what has been originated." _Nor can it be said that this belief came from the Scriptures even_, for, as has been well said, unless a man had a knowledge of the God from whom the Scriptures came, the Revelation itself could have no authority for him. The very idea of Scripture as a Revelation, presupposes belief in a God who can make it.--_Newman Smith_. Revelation must assume the existence of God. bb) _This universal belief comes from within man._ All the evidence points to the conclusive fact that this universal faith in the existence of God is innate in man, and comes from rational intuition. (3) The weight and force of this argument. The fact that all men everywhere believe in the existence of a supreme Being or beings to whom they are morally responsible, is a strong argument in favor of its truth. So universal an effect must have a cause as universal, otherwise we have an effect without any assignable cause. Certain is it that this argument makes the burden of proof to rest upon those who deny the existence of God. b) The Argument from Cause: Cosmological. When we see a thing we naturally ask for the cause of that thing. We see this world in which we live, and ask how it came to be. Is it self-originating, or is the cause of its being outside of itself? Is its cause finite or infinite? That it could not come into being of itself seems obvious; no more than nails, brick, mortar, wood, paints, colors, form into a house or building of themselves; no more than the type composing a book came into order of itself. When Liebig was asked if he believed that the grass and flowers which he saw around him grew by mere chemical forces, he replied: "No; no more than I could believe that the books on botany describing them could grow by mere chemical forces." No theory of an "eternal series" can account for this created universe. No matter how long a chain you may have, you must have a staple somewhere from which it depends. An endless perpendicular chain is an impossibility. "Every house is builded by some man," says the Bible; so this world in which we live was built by a designing mind of infinite power and wisdom. So is it when we consider man. Man exists; but he owes his existence to some cause. Is this cause within or without himself, finite or infinite? Trace our origin back, if you will, to our first parent, Adam; then you must ask, How did he come into being? The doctrine of the eternity of man cannot be supported. Fossil remains extend back but 6,000 years. Man is an effect; he has not always existed. Geology proves this. That the first Cause must have been an intelligent Being is proven by the fact that we are intelligent beings ourselves. c) The Argument from Design: Teleological. A watch proves not only a maker, an artificer, but also a designer; a watch is made for a purpose. This is evident in its structure. A thoughtful, designing mind was back of the watch. So is it with the world in which we live. These "ends" in nature are not to he attributed to "natural results," or "natural selection," results which are produced without intelligence, nor are they "the survival of the fittest," instances in which "accident and fortuity have done the work of mind." No, they are the results of a superintending and originating intelligence and will. d) The Argument from Being: Ontological. Man has an idea of an infinite and perfect Being. From whence this idea? From finite and imperfect beings like ourselves? Certainly not. Therefore this idea argues for the existence of an infinite and perfect Being: such a Being must exist, as a person, and not a mere thought. e) The Moral Argument; Anthropological. Man has an intellectual and a moral nature, hence his Creator must be an intellectual and moral Being, a Judge, and Lawgiver. Man has an emotional nature; only a Being of goodness, power, love, wisdom and holiness could satisfy such a nature, and these things denote the existence of a personal God. Conscience in man says: "Thou shalt," and "Thou shalt not," "I ought," and "I ought not." These mandates are not self-imposed. They imply the existence of a Moral Governor to whom we are responsible. Conscience,--there it is in the breast of man, an ideal Moses thundering from an invisible Sinai the Law of a holy Judge. Said Cardinal Newman: "Were it not for the voice speaking so clearly in my conscience and my heart, I should be an atheist, or a pantheist, when I looked into the world." Some things are wrong, others right: love is right, hatred is wrong. Nor is a thing right because it pleases, or wrong because it displeases. Where did we get this standard of right and wrong? Morality is obligatory, not optional. Who made is obligatory? Who has a right to command my life? We must believe that there is a God, or believe that the very root of our nature is a lie. f) The Argument from Congruity. If we have a key which fits all the wards of the lock, we know that it is the right key. If we have a theory which fits all the facts in the case, we know then that we have the right theory. "Belief in a self-existent, personal God is in harmony with all the facts of our mental and moral nature, as well as with all the phenomena of the natural world. If God exists, a universal belief in his existence is natural enough; the irresistible impulse to ask for a first cause is accounted for; or religious nature has an object; the uniformity of natural law finds an adequate explanation, and human history is vindlcated from the charge of being a vast imposture. Atheism leaves all these matters without an explanation, and makes, not history alone, but our moral and intellectual nature itself, an imposture and a lie."--_Patton_. g) The Argument from Scripture. A great deal of our knowledge rests upon the testimony of others. Now the Bible is competent testimony. If the testimony of travelers is enough to satisfy us as to the habits, customs, and manners of the peoples of the countries they visit, and which we have never seen, why is not the Bible, if it is authentic history, be enough to satisfy us with its evidence as to the existence of God? Some facts need more evidence than others, we know. This is true of the fact of the existence of God. But the Bible history is sufficient to satisfy every reasonable demand. The history of the Jews, prophecy, is not explainable minus God. If we cannot believe in the existence of God on the testimony of the Bible we might as well burn our books of history. A man cannot deny the truth of the testimony of the Bible unless he says plainly: "No amount of testimony will convince me of the supernatural." Scripture does not attempt to prove the existence of God; it asserts, assumes, and declares that the knowledge of God is universal, Rom. 1:19-21, 28, 33; 2:15. It asserts that God has wrought this great truth in the very warp and woof of every man's being, so that nowhere is He without this witness. The preacher may, therefore, safely follow the example of the Scripture in assuming that there is a God. Indeed he must unhesitatingly and explicitly assert it as the Scripture does, believing that "His eternal power and divinity" are things that are clearly seen and perceived through the evidences of His handiwork which abound on every hand. II. THE NATURE OF GOD: (Vs. Agnosticism). 1. THE SPIRITUALITY OF GOD: (Vs. Materialism). "GOD IS SPIRIT." a) Statement of the Fact, John 4:24: "God is Spirit." Meaning: The Samaritan woman's question, "Where is God to be found?" etc. On Mt. Zion or Gerizim? Christ's answer: God is not to be confined to any one place (cf. Acts 7:48; 17:25, 1 Kings 8:27). God must be worshipped _in spirit_ as distinguished from place, form, or other sensual limitations (4:21); and _in truth_ as distinguished from false conceptions resulting from imperfect knowledge (4:22). b) Light on "God is Spirit," from other Scriptures. Luke 24:39: "A spirit hath not flesh and bones," i. e., has not body, or parts like human beings; incorporeal; not subject to human limitations. Col. 1:15: "The image of the invisible God." 1 Tim. 1:17 (R. V.): "Now unto the King incorruptible, invisible." These passages teach that God has nothing of a material or bodily nature. Sight sees only objects of the material world, but God is not of the nature of the material world, hence He cannot be seen with the material eye--at least not now. c) Light Derived from Cautions Against Representing God by Graven Images: Deut. 4:15-23; Isa. 40:25; Exod. 20:4. Study these passages carefully and note that the reason why images were forbidden was because no one had ever seen God, and consequently could not picture how He looked, and, further, there was nothing on the earth that could resemble Him. d) Definition of "God is Spirit" in the Light of All This: God is invisible, incorporeal, without parts, without body, without passions, and therefore free from all limitations; He is apprehended not by the senses, but by the soul; hence God is above sensuous perceptions. 1 Cor. 2:6-16 intimates that without the teaching of God's Spirit we cannot know God. He is not a material Being. "LaPlace swept the heavens with his telescope, but could not find anywhere a God. He might just as well have swept a kitchen with his broom." Since God is not a material Being, He cannot be apprehended by physical means. e) Questions and Problems with Reference to the Statement that "God is Spirit." (1) 'What is meant by statement that man was made "in the image of God"? Col 3:10; Eph. 4:24 declare that this "image" consists in "righteousness, knowledge, and holiness of truth." By that is meant that the image of God in man consisted in intellectual and moral likeness rather than physical resemblance. Some think that 1 Thess. 5:23 indicates that the "trinity of man"--body, soul, and spirit--constitutes that image and likeness. (2) What is meant by the anthropomorphic expressions used of God? For example: God is said to have hands, feet, arms, eyes, ears He sees, feels, hears, walks, etc. Such expressions are to be understood only in the sense of being human expressions used in order to bring the infinite within the comprehension of the finite. How otherwise could we understand God saving by means of human expressions, in figures that we all can understand! (3) How are such passages as Exod. 24:10 and 33:18-23 in which it is distinctly stated that men saw the God of Israel, to be reconciled with such passages as John 1:18; "No man hath seen God at any time," and Exod. 33:20: "There shall no man see me and live"? Answer: _aa) Spirit can be manifested in visible form:_ John 1:32: "I saw tho Spirit descending from heaven like a dove (or in the form of a dove)." So throughout the ages the invisible God has manifested Himself in visible form. (See Judges 6:34: The Spirit of the Lord clothed Himself with Gideon.) _bb) On this truth is based the doctrine of "The Angel of the Lord"_ in the Old Testament: Gen 16:7, 10, 13. Note here how the Angel of the Lord is identified with Jehovah Himself, cf. vv. 10, 13. Also Gen. 22:12--"The angel of the Lord.... not withheld from _me_." In 18:1-16, one of the three angels clearly and definitely identifies himself with Jehovah. Compare chapter 19, where it is seen that only two of the angels have come to Sodom; the other has remained behind. "Who was this one, this remaining angel? Gen.18:17, 20 answers the question; v. 22 reads: "And Abraham stood yet before the Lord. In Exod. 13:21 it is _Jehovah_, while in 14:19 it is the Angel that went before Israel. Thus was the way prepared for the incarnation, for the Angel of the Lord in the Old Testament is undoubtedly the second person of the Trinity. This seems evident from Judges 13:18 compared with Isa. 9:6, in both of which passages, clearly referring to Christ, the name "Wonderful" occurs. Also the omission of the definite article "the" from before the expression "the Angel of the Lord," and the substitution of "an" points to the same truth. This change is made in the Revised Version. cc) _What was it then that the elders of Israel saw when it is said they saw the "God of Israel"?_ Certainly it was not God in His real essence, God as He is in Himself, for no man can have that vision and live. John 1:18 is clear on that point: "No man hath seen God at any time." The emphasis in this verse is on the word "God," and may read, "GOD no one has seen at any time." In 5:37 Jesus says: "Ye have neither heard his voice at any time, nor seen his shape." From This it seems clear that the "seeing" here, the which has been the privilege of no man, refers to the essence rather than to the person of God, if such a distinction can really be made. This is apparent also from the omission of the definite article before God, as well as from the position of God in the sentence. None but the Son has really seen God as God, as He really is. What, then, did these men see? Evidently an _appearance_ of God in some form to their outward senses; perhaps the form of a man, seeing mention is made of his "feet." The vision may have been too bright for human eyes to gaze upon fully, but it was _a_ vision of God. Yet it was only a manifestation of God, for, although Moses was conversing with God, he yet said: "If I have found grace in thy sight, show me thy face." Moses had been granted exceeding great and precious privileges in that he had been admitted into close communion with God, more so than any other member of the human race. But still unsatisfied he longed for more; so in v. 18 he asks to see the unveiled glory of God, that very thing which no man in the flesh can ever see and live; but, no, this cannot be. By referring to Exod. 33:18-23 we find God's answer: "Thou canst not see my face.... thou shalt see my back parts, but my face shall not be seen." (Num. 12:8 throws light upon the subject, if compared with Exod. 33:11.) "The secret remained unseen; the longing unsatisfied; and the nearest approach to the beatific vision reached by him with whom God spake face to face, as friend with friend, was to be hidden in the cleft of the rock, to be made aware of an awful shadow, and to hear the voice of the unseen." 2. THE PERSONALITY OF GOD: (Vs. Pantheism). Pantheism maintains that this universe in its ever changing conditions is but the manifestation of the one ever changing universal substance which is God; thus all, everything is God, and God is everything; God is all, all is God. Thus God is identified with nature and not held to be independent of and separate from it. God is, therefore, a necessary but an unconscious force working in the world. The Bearing of the Personality of God on the Idea of Religion. True religion may be defined as the communion between two persons: God and man. religion is a personal relationship between God in heaven, and man on the earth. If God were not a person there could be no communion; if both God and man were one there could be no communion, and, consequently, no religion. An independent personal relationship on both sides is absolutely necessary to communion. Man can have no communion with an influence, a force, an impersonal something; nor can an influence have any moving or affection towards man. It is absolutely necessary to the true definition of religion that both God and man be persons. God is person, not force or influence. a) Definition of Personality. Personality exists where there is intelligence, mind, will, reason, individuality, self-consciousness, and self-determination. There must be not mere consciousness--for the beast has that--but _self_-consciousness. Nor is personality determination--for the beast has this, too, even though this determination be the result of influences from without--but _self_-determination, the power by which man from an act of his own free will determines his acts from within. Neither corporeity nor substance, as we understand these words, are necessarily, if at all, involved in personality. There may be true personality without either or both of these. b) Scripture Teaching on the Personality of God. (In this connection it will Be well to refer to the Ontological Argument for the Existence of God, for which see p. 17.) (1) Exod 3:14;--"I AM THAT I AM." This name is wonderfully significant. Its central idea is that of existence and personality. The words signify "I AM, I WAS, I SHALL BE," so suggestively corresponding with the New Testament statement concerning God: "Who wast, and art, and art to come." All the names given to God in the Scripture denote personality. Here are some of them: Jehovah--Jireh: The Lord will provide (Gen. 22:13, 14). Jehovah-Rapha: The Lord that healeth (Exod. 15:26). Jehovah-Nissi: The Lord our Banner (Exod. 17:8-15). Jehovah-Shalom: The Lord our Peace (Judges 6:24). Jehovah-Ra-ah: The Lord my Shepherd (Psa. 23:1). Jehovah-Tsidkenu: The Lord our Righteousness (Jer. 23:6). Jehovah-Shammah: The Lord is present (Ezek. 48:35). Moreover, the personal pronouns ascribed to God prove personality: John 17:3, et al. "To know thee"--we cannot know an influence in the sense in which the word know is here used. _Statement:_ All through the Scriptures names and personal pronouns are ascribed to God which undeniably prove that God is a Person. (2) A sharp distinction is drawn in the Scriptures between the gods of heathen and the Lord God of Israel (See Jer. 10:10-16). Note the context: vv. 3-9: Idols are things, not persons; they cannot walk, speak, do good or evil. God is wiser than the men who made these idols; if the idol-makers are persons, much more is God. See the sharp contrast drawn between dead idols and the living, personal, true and only God: Acts 14:15; 1 Thess. 1:9; Psa. 94:9, 10. _Statement:_ God is to be clearly distinguished from things which have no life; he is a living Person. (3) Attributes of personality are ascribed to God in the Scriptures. God repents (Gen. 6:6}; grieves {Gen 6:6}; is angry {1 Kings 11:9); is jealous (Deut. 6:15); loves (Rev. 3:19); hates (Prov. 6:16). _Statement_: God possesses the attributes of personality, and therefore is a Person. (4) The relation which God bears to the Universe and to Men, as set forth in the Scriptures, can be explained only on the basis that God is a Person. Deism maintains that God, while the Creator of the world, yet sustains no further relations to it. He made it just as the clock-maker makes a self-winding clock: makes it and then leaves it to run itself without any interference on His part. Such teaching as this finds no sanction in the Bible. What are God's relations to the universe and to men? _aa) He is the Creator of the Universe and Man._ Gen. 1:1, 26; John. 1:1-3. These verses contain vital truths. The universe did not exist from eternity, nor was it made from existing matter. It did not proceed as an emanation from the infinite, but was summoned into being by the decree of God. Science, by disclosing to us the marvellous power and accuracy of natural law, compels us to believe in a superintending intelligence who is infinite. Tyndall said: "I have noticed that it is not during the hours of my clearness and vigor that the doctrine of material atheism commends itself to my mind." (In this connection the Arguments from Cause and Design, pp. 16 and 17, may be properly considered.) _Statement_: The Creation of the Universe and Man proves the Personality of the Creator--God. _bb) God sustains certain relations to the Universe and Man which He has made._ Heb 1:3--"Uphold all things." Col. 1:15-17--"By him all things hold together." Psa. 104:27-30--All creatures wait upon Him for "their meat in due season." Psa. 75:6, 7--"Promotion" among men, the putting down of one man and the setting up of another, is from the hand of God. What do we learn from these scriptures regarding the relation of God to this universe, to man, and to all God's creatures? _First_. That all things are held together by Him; if not, this old world would go to pieces quickly. The uniformity and accuracy of natural law compels us to believe in a personal God who intelligently guides and governs the universe. Disbelief in this fact would mean utter confusion. Not blind chance, but a personal God is at the helm. _Second._ That the physical supplies for all God's creatures are in His hand: He feeds them all. What God gives we gather. If He withholds provision we die. _Third._ That God has His hand in history, guiding and shaping the affairs of nations. Victor Hugo said: "Waterloo was God." _Fourth._ Consider with what detail God's care is described: The sparrows, the lilies, the hairs of the head, the tears of His children, etc. See how these facts are clearly portrayed in the following scriptures: Matt. 6:28-30; 10:29, 30; Gen. 39:21, with 50:20; Dan. 1:9; Job 1:12. _Statement:_ The personality of God is shown by His active, interest and participation all things, even the smallest things, in the universe, the experience of man, and in the life of all His creatures. THE UNITY OF GOD: (Vs. Polytheism). There are three monotheistic religions in the world: Judaism, Christianity, and Mahommedanism. The second is a development of the first; the third is an outgrowth of both. The doctrine of the Unity of God is held in contradistinction to _Polytheism_, which is belief in a multiplicity of gods; _Tri-theism_, which teaches that there are three Gods--that is, that the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost are, specifically, three distinct Gods; and to _Dualism_, which teaches that there are two independent divine beings or eternal principles, the one good, and the other evil, as set forth especially in Gnostic systems, such as Parseeism. a) The Scriptures Assert the Unity of God. Deut. 6:4--"Hear, O Israel; the Lord our God is one Lord"; or, "The Lord our God, the Lord is one." Isa. 44:6-8--"First.... last.... beside me there is no God." Isa. 45:5--"There is none else, there is no God beside me." 1 Tim. 2:5 "There is one God." 1 Cor. 8:4--"There is none other God but one." That God is one, that there is no other, that He has no equal is the forceful testimony of above fifty passages in the Scriptures. The fundamental duty of life, namely, the devotion of the entire being to the Lord, is based upon the Unity of God: "The Lord....is one .... therefore thou shalt love the Lord thy God with _all_ thy heart," etc. No other truth of the Scripture, particularly of the Old Testament, receives more prominence than that of the Unity of God. This truth is clearly pronounced also in the material universe; it is the introduction and conclusion of all scientific researches. Any other representation contradicts both creation and revelation. Its denial is a proper object for the ridicule of every thinking man, and of the disbelief of every orthodox Christian. Let this, then, be our first and necessary conclusion--that Deity, whether creating, inspiring, or otherwise manifesting itself, is one God; one, and no more.--_Cerdo._ A multiplication of Gods is a contradiction; there can be but one God. There can be but one absolutely perfect, supreme, and almighty Being. Such a Being cannot be multiplied, nor pluralized. There can be but one ultimate, but one all-inclusive, but one God. Monotheism, then, not Tri-theism, is the doctrine set forth in the Scriptures. "If the thought that wishes to be orthodox had less tendency to become tri-theistic, the thought that claims to be free would be less Unitarian."--_Moberly._ b) The Nature of the Divine Unity. The doctrine of the Unity of God does not exclude the idea of a plurality of persons in the Godhead. Not that there are three persons in each person of the Godhead, if we use in both cases the term _person_ in one and the same sense. We believe, therefore, that there are three persons in the Godhead, but one God. Anti-trinitarians represent the evangelical church as believing in three Gods, but this is not true; it believes in one God, but three persons in the Godhead. (1) The Scriptural use of the word "One." Gen. 2:24--"And they two (husband and wife) shall be one flesh." Gen. 11:6--"The people is one." I Cor. 3:6-8--"He that planteth and he that watereth are one." 12:13--"All baptized into one body." John 17:22, 23--"That they may be one, even as we are one ... that they may be made perfect in one." The word "one" in these scriptures is used in a collective sense; the unity here spoken of is a compound one, like unto that used in such expressions as "a cluster of grapes," or "all the people rose as one man." The unity of the Godhead is not simple but compound. The Hebrew word for "one" (yacheed) in the absolute sense, and which is used in such expressions as "the only one," is _never_ used to express the unity of the Godhead. On the contrary, the Hebrew word "echad," meaning "one" in the sense of a compound unity, as seen in the above quoted scriptures, is the one used always to describe the divine unity. (2) The Divine Name "God" is a plural word; plural pronouns are used of God. The Hebrew word for God (Elohim) is used most frequently in the plural form. God often uses plural pronouns in speaking of Himself, e. g., Gen. 1:26--"Let _us_ make man." Isa. 6:8-"Who will go for _us_?" Gen. 3:22--Behold, man is become as "one of _us_." Some would say that the "us" in Gen. 1:26--"Let us make man," refers to God's consultation with the angels with whom He takes counsel before He does anything of importance; but Isa. 40:14--"But of whom took he counsel," shows that such is not the case; and Gen. 1:27 contradicts this idea, for it repeats the statement "in the image of God," not in the image of angels; also that "GOD created man in HIS OWN image, in the image of God (not angels) created he him." The "us" of Gen. 1:26, therefore, is properly understood of plural majesty, as indicating the dignity and majesty of the speaker. The proper translation of this verse should be not "let us make," but "we will make," indicating the language of resolve rather than that of consultation. 4. THE DOCTRINE OF THE TRINITY: (Vs. Unitarianism). The doctrine of the Trinity is, in its last analysis, a deep mystery that cannot be fathomed by the finite mind. That it is taught in the Scripture, however, there can be no reasonable doubt. It is a doctrine to be believed even though it cannot be thoroughly understood. a) The Doctrine of the Trinity in the Old Testament. This doctrine is not so much declared as intimated in the Old Testament. The burden of the Old Testament message seems to be the unity of God. Yet the doctrine of the Trinity is clearly intimated in a four-fold way: First: In the plural names of the Deity; e. g., Elohim. Second: Personal pronouns used of the Deity. Gen. 1:26; 11:7; Isa.6:8. Third: The Theophanies, especially the "Angel of the Lord." Gen.16 and 18. Fourth: The work of the Holy Spirit. Gen. 1:2; Judges 6:34. b) The Doctrine of the Trinity in the New Testament. The doctrine of the Trinity is clearly taught in the New Testament; it is not merely intimated, as in the Old Testament, but explicitly declared. This is evident from the following: First: The baptism of Christ: Matt 3:16, 17. Here the Father speaks from heaven; the Son is being baptized in the Jordan; and the Spirit descends in the form of a dove. Second: In the Baptismal Formula: Matt. 28:19--"Baptizing them in the name (sing.) of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost." Third: The Apostolic Benediction: 2 Cor. 13:14--"The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ....love of God.....communion of the Holy Ghost." Fourth: Christ Himself teaches it in John 14:16--"_I_ will pray the _Father_... He will give you another _Comforter_." Fifth: The New Testaffignt sets forth: A Father who is God, Rom. 1:7. A son who is God, Heb. 1:8. A Holy Spirit who is God, Acts 5:3, 4. The whole is summed up in the words of Boardman: The Father is all the fulness of the Godhead invisible, John 1:18; the Son is all the fulness of Godhead manifested, John 1:4-18; the Spirit is all the fulness of the Godhead acting immediately upon the creature, 1 Cor. 2:9, 10. III. THE ATTRIBUTES OF GOD: It is difficult to clearly distinguish between the attributes and the nature of God. It is maintained by some that such a division ought not to be made; that these qualities of God which we call attributes are in reality part of His nature and essence. Whether this be exactly so or not, our purpose in speaking of the attributes of God is for convenience in the study of the doctrine of God. It has been customary to divide the attributes of God into two classes: the Natural, and the Moral. The Natural attributes are Omniscience, Omnipotence, Omnipresence, Eternity; the Moral attributes: Holiness, Righteousness, Faithfulness, Mercy and Loving-kindness, and Love. 1. THE NATURAL ATTRIBUTES: a) The Omniscience of God. God Is a Spirit, and as such has knowledge. He is a perfect Spirit, and as such has perfect knowledge. By Omniscience is meant that God knows all things and is absolutely perfect in knowledge. (1) Scriptures setting forth the fact of God's Omniscience. _In general:_ Job 11:7, 8--"Canst thou by searching find out God? Canst thou find out the Almighty unto perfection?" Job's friends professed to have discovered the reason for his affliction, for, forsooth, had they not found out the secrets of the divine wisdom unto perfection. No, such is beyond their human, finite ken. Isa. 40:28--"There is no searching of his understanding." Jacob's captive condition might lead him to lose trust and faith in God. But Jacob has not seen all God's plans--no man has. Job, 37:16--"The wondrous works of him which is perfect in knowledge." Could Job explain the wonders of the natural phenomena around him? Much less the purposes and judgments of God. Psa. 147:5--"His understanding is infinite." Of His understanding there is no number, no computation. Israel is not lost sight of. He who can number and name and call the stars is able also to call each of them by name even out of their captivity. His knowledge is not to be measured by ours. 1 John 3:20--"God knoweth all things." Our hearts may pass over certain things, and fail to see some things that should be confessed. God, however, sees all things. Rom. 11:33--"How unsearchable are his judgments and his ways past finding out." The mysterious purposes and decrees of God touching man and his salvation are beyond all human comprehension. _In detail, and by way of illustration:_ _aa) His knowledge is absolutely comprehensive:_ Prov. 15:3--"The eyes of the Lord are in every place, keeping watch upon the evil and the good." How could He reward and punish otherwise? Not one single thing occurring in any place escapes His knowledge. 5:21--"For the ways of man are before the eyes of the Lord, and he pondereth all his goings." We may have habits hidden from our fellow creatures, but not from God. _ bb) God has a perfect knowledge of all that is in nature:_ Psa. 147:4--"He telleth the number of the stars; he calleth them all by their names." Man cannot (Gen. 15:5). How, then, can Israel say, "My way is hid from the Lord?" Cf. Isa. 40:26, 27. Matt. 10:29--"One ... sparrow shall not fall to the ground without your Father." Much less would one of His children who perchance might be killed for His name's sake, fall without His knowledge. _cc) God has a perfect knowledge of all that transpires in human experience:_ Prov. 5:21--"For the ways of man are before the eyes of the Lord, and he pondereth all his goings." All a man's doings are weighed by God. How this should affect his conduct! Psa. 139:2, 3--"Thou knowest my downsitting and mine uprising, thou understandest my thought afar off. Thou compassest my path and my lying down, and art acquainted with all my ways." Before our thoughts are fully developed, our unspoken sentences, the rising feeling in our hearts, our activity, our resting, all that we do from day to day is known and sifted by God. v. 4--"There is not a word in my tongue, but lo, O Lord, thou knowest it altogether." Not only thoughts and purposes, but words spoken, idle, good, or bad. Exod. 3:7--"I have seen the affliction....heard the cry: know the sorrows of my people which are in Egypt." The tears and grief which they dared not show to their taskmasters, God saw and noted. Did God know of their trouble in Egypt? It seemed to them as though He did not. But He did. Matt. 10:29, 30--"But the very hairs of your head are all numbered." What minute knowledge is this! Exod 3:19--"And I am sure that the king of Egypt will not let you go, no, not by a mighty hand." Here is intimate knowledge as to what a single individual will do. Isa. 48:18--"O that thou hadst harkened to my commandments! then had thy peace have been as a river," etc. God knows what our lives would have been if only we had acted and decided differently. _dd) God has a perfect knowledge of all that transpires in human history._ With what precision are national changes and destinies foretold and depicted in Dan. 2 and 8! Acts 15:18--"Known unto God are all his works from the beginning of the world (ages)." In the context surrounding this verse are clearly set forth the religious changes that were to characterize the generations to come, the which have been so far literally, though not fully, fulfilled. _ee) God knows--from, all eternity to all eternity what will take place._ The ominiscience of God is abduced as the proof that He alone is God, especially as contrasted with the gods (idols) of the heathen: Isa. 48:5-8--"I have even from the beinning declared it unto thee; before it came to pass I showed it thee.....I have showed thee new things from this time, even hidden things," etc. 46:9, 10--"I am God....declaring the end from the beginning, and from ancient times the things that are not yet done, saying, My counsel shall stand, and I will do all my pleasure." Here God is announcing to His prophets things that are to occur in the future which it is impossible for the human understanding to know or reach. There is no past, present, future with God. Everything is one great living present. We are like a man standing by a river in a low place, and who, consequently, can see that part of the river only that passes by him; but he who is aloof in the air may see the whole course of the river, how it rises, and how it runs. Thus is it with God. (2) Certain problems in connection with the doctrine of the Omniscienc of God. How the divine intelligence can comprehend so vast and multitudinous and exhaustless a number of things must forever surpass our comprehension. "O the depth of the riches both of the wisdom and knowledge of God! How unsearchable are his judgments, and his ways past finding out!" (Rom. 11:33). "There is no searching of his understanding; it is beyond human computation." We must expect, therefore, to stand amazed in the presence of such matchless wisdom, and find problems in connection therewith which must for the time, at least, remain unsolved. Again, we must not confound the foreknowledge of God with His foreordination. The two things are, in a sense, distinct. The fact that God foreknows a thing makes that thing certain but not necessary. His foreordination is based upon His foreknowledge. Pharaoh was responsible for the hardening of his heart even though that hardening process was foreknown and foretold by God. The actions of men are considered certain but not necessary by reason of the divine foreknowledge. b) The Omnipotence of God. The Omnipotence of God is that attribute by which He can bring to pass everything which He wills. God's power admits of no bounds or limitations. God's declaration of His intention is the pledge of the thing intended being carried out. "Hath he said, and shall he not do it?" (1) Scriptural declarations of the fact; In general: Job 42:2.(R. V.)--"I know that thou canst do everything (all things), and that no purpose of thine can be restrained." The mighty review of all God's works as it passes before Job (context) brings forth this confession: "There is no resisting thy might, and there is no purpose thou canst not carry out." Gen. 18:14--"Is anything too hard for the Lord?" What had ceased to be possible by natural means comes to pass by supernatural means. (2) Scriptural declaration of the fact; In detail: _aa) In the world of nature:_ Gen. 1:1-3--"God created the heaven and the earth. And God said, Let there be light, and there was light." Thus "he spake and it was done. He commanded and it stood fast." He does not need even to give His hand to the work; His word is sufficient. Psa. 107:25-29--"He raiseth the stormy wind ... he maketh the storm calm." "Even the winds and the sea obey him." God's slightest word, once uttered, is a standing law to which all nature must absolutely conform. Nahum 1:5, 6--"The mountains quake at him ... the hills melt ... the earth is burned at his presence ... the rocks are thrown down by him." If such is His power how shall Assyria withstand it? This is God's comforting message to Israel. Everything in the sky, in sea, on earth is absolutely subject to His control. _bb) In the experience of mankind:_ How wonderfully this is illustrated in the experience of Nebuchadnezzar, Dan. 4; and in the conversion of Saul, Acts 9; as well as in the case of Pharaoh, Exod. 4:11. James 4:12-15--" ... For that ye ought to say, If the Lord will, we shall live and do this or that." All human actions, whether present or future, are dependent upon the will and power of God. These things are in God's, not in man's, power. See also the parable of the Rich Fool, Luke 12:16-21. _cc) The heavenly inhabitants are subject to His will and word:_ Dan. 4:35 (R. V.)--"He doeth according to his will in the army of heaven." Heb. 1:14--"Are they (angels) not all ministering spirits, sent forth to minister for them who shall be heirs of salvation?" It has been said that angels are beings created by the power of God for some specific act of service, and that after that act of service is rendered they pass out of existence. _dd) Even Satan is under the control of God_ Satan has no power over any of God's children saving as God permits him to have. This fact is clearly established in the case of Job (1:12 and 2:6). and Peter (Luke 22:31,32), in which we are told that Satan had petitioned God that he might sift the self-righteous patriarch and the impulsive apostle. Finally Satan is to be forever bound with a great chain (Rev. 20:2). God can set a bar to the malignity of Satan just as he can set a bar to the waves of the sea. c) The Omnipresence of God. By the Omnipresence of God is meant that God is everywhere present. This attribute is closely connected with the omniscience and omnipotence of God, for if God is everywhere present He is everywhere active and possesses full knowledge of all that transpires in every place. This does not mean that God is everywhere present in a bodily sense, nor even in the same sense; for there is a sense in which He may be in heaven, His dwelling place, in which He cannot be said to be elsewhere. We must guard against the pantheistic idea which claims that God _is_ everything, while maintaining the Scriptural doctrine that He is everywhere present in all things. Pantheism emphasizes the omnipresent activity of God, but denies His personality. Those holding the doctrine of pantheism make loud claims to philosophic ability and high intellectual training, but is it not remarkable that it is in connection with this very phase of the doctrine of God that the Apostle Paul says "they became fools"? (Rom. 1.) God is everywhere and in every place; His center is everywhere; His circumference nowhere. But this presence is a spiritual and not a material presence; yet it is a real presence. (1) Scriptural statement of the fact. Jer. 23:23, 24-"Am I a God at hand, saith the Lord, and not a God afar off? Can any hide himself in secret places that I shall not see him? saith the Lord. Do not I fill heaven and earth? saith the Lord." Did the false prophets think that they could hide their secret crimes from God? Or that He could not pursue them into foreign countries? Or that He knew what was transpiring in heaven only and not upon the earth, and even in its most distant corners? It was false for them to thus delude themselves--their sins would be detected and punished (Psa. 10:1-14). Psa. 139:7-12--"Whither shall I go from thy Spirit, or whither shall I flee from thy presence," etc. How wondrously the attributes of God are grouped in this psalm. In vv. 1-6 the psalmist speaks of the omniscience of God: God knows him through and through. In vv. 13-19 it is the omnipotence of God which overwhelms the psalmist. The omnipresence of God is set forth in vv. 7-12. The psalmist realizes that he is never out of the sight of God any more than he is outside of the range of His knowledge and power. God is in heaven; "Hell is naked before Him"; souls in the intermediate state are fully known to Him (cf. Job 26:2; Jonah 2:2); the darkness is as the light to Him. Job 22:12-14--"Is not God in the height of heaven? . . . . Can he judge through the dark cloud? Thick clouds are a covering to him that he seeth not," etc. All agreed that God displayed His presence in the heaven, but Job had inferred from this that God could not know and did not take notice of such actions of men as were hidden behind the intervening clouds. Not that Job was atheistic; no, but probably denied to God the attribute of omnipresence and omniscience. Acts 17:24-28--"For in him we live, and move, and have our being." Without His upholding hand we must perish; God is our nearest environment. From these and many other scriptures we are clearly taught that God is everywhere present and acting; there is no place where God is not. This does not mean that God is everywhere present in the same sense. For we are told that He is in heaven, His dwelling-place (1 Kings 8:30); that Christ is at His right hand in heaven (Eph. 1:20); that God's throne is in heaven (Rev. 21:2; Isa. 66:1). We may summarize the doctrine of the Trinity thus: God the Father is specially manifested in heaven; God the Son has been specially manifested on the earth; God the Spirit is manifested everywhere. Just as the soul is present in every part of the body so God is present in every part of the world. (2) Some practical inferences from this doctrine. First, _of Comfort:_ The nearness of God to the believer. "Speak to Him then for He listens. And spirit with spirit can meet; Closer is He than breathing, And nearer than hands or feet." "God is never so far off, As even to be near; He is within. Our spirit is the home He holds most dear. To think of Him as by our side is almost as untrue, As to remove His shrine beyond those skies of starry blue."--_Faber._ The omnipresence is not only a detective truth--it is protective also. After dwelling on this great and awful attribute in Psalm 139, the psalmist, in vv. 17, 18, exclaims: "How precious are thy thoughts to me..... When I awake I am still with thee." By this is meant that God stands by our side to help, and as One who loves and understands us (Matt. 28:20). Second, _of Warning:_ "As in the Roman empire the whole world was one great prison to a malefactor, and in his flight to the most distant lands the emperor could track him, so under the government of God no sinner can escape the eye of the judge." Thus the omnipresence of God is detective as well as protective. "Thou God seest me," should serve as warning to keep us from sin. d) The Eternity and Immutability of God. The word _eternal_ is used in two senses in the Bible: figuratively, as denoting existence which may have a beginning, but will have no end, e. g., angels, the human soul; literally, denoting an existence which has neither beginning nor ending, like that of God. Time has past, present, future; eternity has not. Eternity is infinite duration without any beginning, end, or limit--an ever abiding present. We can conceive of it only as duration indefinitely extended from the present moment in two directions--as to the past and as to the future. "One of the deaf and dumb pupils in the institution of Paris, being desired to express his idea of the eternity of the Deity, replied: 'It is duration, without beginning or end; existence, without bounds or dimension; present, without past or future. His eternity is youth, without infancy or old age; life, without birth or death; today, without yesterday or tomorrow.'" By the Immutability of God is meant that God's nature is absolute|y unchangeable. It is not possible that He should possess one attribute at one time that He does not possess at another. Nor can there be any change in the Deity for better or for worse. God remains forever the same. He is without beginning and without end; the self-existent "I am"; He remains forever the same, and unchangeable. (1) Scriptural statement of the fact: The Eternity of God Hab. 1:12--"Art thou not from everlasting, O Lord my God, mine Holy One?" Chaldea had threatened to annihilate Israel. The prophet cannot believe it possible, for has not God _eternal_ purposes for Israel? Is He not holy? How, then, can evil triumph? Psa. 90:2--"Before the mountains were brought forth, or ever thou hadst formed the earth and the world, even from everlasting to everlasting, thou art God." Short and transitory is the life of man; with God it is otherwise. The perishable nature of man is here compared with the imperishable nature of God. Psa. 102:24-27--"I said, O my God, take me not away in the midst of my days: thy years are throughout all generations. Of old thou hast laid the foundations of the earth: and the heavens are the work of thy hands. They shall perish, but thou shalt endure; yea, all of them shall wax old like a garment; as a vesture shalt thou change them, and they shall be changed. But thou art the same, and thy years shall have no end." With the perishable nature of the whole material creation the psalmist contrasts the imperishable nature of God. Exod. 3:14--"And God said unto Moses, I AM THAT I AM." The past, present and future lies in these words for the name of Jehovah. Rev. 1:8--"I am Alpha and Omega, the beginning and the ending, saith the Lord, which is, and which was, and which is to come, the Almighty." (2) Scriptural statement of the Immutability of God: Mal 3:6--"1 am the Lord, I change not." Man's hope lies in that fact, as the context here shows Man had changed in his life and purpose toward God, and if God, like man, had changed, man would have been destroyed. James 1:17--"The Father of lights, with whom is no variableness, neither shadow of turning." There is no change--in the sense of the degree or intensity of light such as is manifested in the heavenly bodies. Such lights are constantly varying and changing; not so with God. There is no inherent, indwelling, possible change in God. 1 Sam. 15:29.--"And also the Strength of Israel will not lie nor repent: for he is not a man, that he should repent." From these scriptures we assert that God, in His nature and character, is absolutely without change. Does God Repent? What, then, shall we say with regard to such scriptures as Jonah 3:10 and Gen. 6:6--"And God repented of the evil, that he said he would do unto them." "And it repented the Lord that he had made man on the earth, and it grieved him at his heart." In reply we may say that God does not change, but threatens that men may change. "The repentent attitude in God does not involve any real change in the character and purposes of God. He ever hates the sin and ever pities and loves the sinner; that is so both before and after the sinner's repentance. Divine repentance is therefore the same principle acting differently in altered circumstances. If the prospect of punishment answers the same purpose as that intended by the punishment itself, then there is no inconsistency in its remission, for punishment is not an end, it is only a means to goodness, to the reign of the law of righteousness." When God appears to be displeased with anything, or orders it differently from what we expected, we say, after the manner of men, that He repents. God's attitude towards the Ninevites had not changed, but they had changed; and because they had changed from sin unto righteousness, God's attitude towards them and His intended dealings with them as sinners must of necessity change, while, of course, God's character had in no wise changed with respect to these people, although His dealings with them had. So that we may say that God's _character_ never changes, but His _dealings_ with men change as they change from ungodliness to godliness and from disobedience unto obedience. "God's immutability is not that of the stone, that has no internal experience, but rather that of the column of mercury that rises and falls with every change in the temperature of the surrounding atmosphere. When a man bicycling against the wind turns about and goes with the wind instead of going against it, the wind seems to change, although it is blowing just as it was before." --_Strong_. 2. THE MORAL ATTRIBUTES. a) The Holiness of God. If there is any difference in importance in the attributes of God, that of His Holiness seems to occupy the first place. It is, to say the least, the one attribute which God would have His people remember Him by more than any other. In the visions of Himself which God granted men in the Scriptures the thing that stood out most prominent was the divine holiness. This is clearly seen by referring to the visions of Moses, Job, and Isaiah. Some thirty times does the Prophet Isaiah speak of Jehovah as "the Holy One," thus indicating what feature of those beatific visions had most impressed him. The holiness of God is the message of the entire Old Testament. To the prophets God was the absolutely Holy One; the One with eyes too pure to behold evil; the One swift to punish iniquity. In taking a photograph, the part of the body which we desire most to see is not the hands or feet, but the face. So is it with our vision of God. He desires us to see not His hand and finger, denoting His power and skill, nor even His throne as indicating His majesty. It is His holiness by which He desires to be remembered as that is the attribute which most glorifies Him. Let us bear this fact in mind as we study this attribute of the divine nature. It is just this vision of God that we need today when the tendency to deny the reality or the awfulness of sin is so prevalent. Our view of the necessity of the atonement will depend very largely upon our view of the holiness of God. Light views of God and His holiness will produce light views of sin and the atonement. (1) Scriptural statements setting forth the fact of God's Holiness. Isa. 57:15--"Thus saith the high and lofty One that inhabiteth eternity, whose name is Holy; I dwell in the high and holy place." Psa. 99:9--"Exalt the Lord our God, and worship at his holy hill: for the Lord our God is holy." Hab. 1:13--"Thou art of purer eyes than to behold evil, and canst not look on iniquity." 1 Pet. 1:15, 16 --"But as he which hath called you is holy, so be ye holy in all manner of conversation. Because it is written, Be ye holy: for I am holy." God's personal name is holy. John 17:11--"Holy Father, keep through thine own name those whom thou hast given me." Christ here contemplates the Father as the Holy One, as the source and agent of that which He desires for His disciples, namely, holiness of heart and life, being kept from the evil of this world. Is it not remarkable that this attribute of holiness is ascribed to each of the three persons of the Trinity: God the Father, is the Holy One of Israel (Isa. 41:14); God the Son is the Holy One (Acts 3:14); God the Spirit is called the Holy Spirit (Eph. 4:30). (2) The Scriptural meaning of Holiness as applied to God. Job 34:10--"Be it far from God, that he should do wickedness; and from the Almighty that he should commit iniquity." An evil God, one that could commit evil would be a contradiction in terms, an impossible, inconceivable idea. Job seemed to doubt that the principle on which the universe was conducted was one of absolute equity. He must know that God is free from all evil-doing. However hidden the meaning of His dealings, He is always just. God never did, never will do wrong to any of His creatures; He will never punish wrongly. Men may, yea, often do; God never does. Lev. 11:43-45--"Ye shall not make yourselves abominable with any creeping thing that creepeth, neither shall ye make yourselves unclean with them, that ye should be defiled thereby. For I am the Lord your God; ye shall therefore sanctify yourselves, and ye shall be holy; for I am holy: neither shall ye defile yourselves with any manner of creeping thing that creepeth upon the earth.... Ye shall therefore be holy, for I am holy." This means that God is absolutely clean and pure and free from all defilement. The construction of the Tabernacle, with its holy and most holy place into which the high priest alone entered once a year; the Ten Commandments, with their moral categories; the laws of clean and unclean animals and things--all these speak to us in unmistakable terms as to what is meant by holiness as applied to God. Two things, by way of definition, may be inferred from these Scriptures: first, negatively, that God is entirely apart from all that is evil and from all that defiles both in Himself and in relation to all His creatures; second and positively, by the holiness of God is meant the consummate holiness, perfection, purity, and absolute sanctity of His nature. There is absolutely nothing unholy in Him. So the Apostle John declares: "God is light, and in him is no darkness at all." (3) The manifestation of God's Holiness. Prov. 15:9, 26--"The way of the wicked is an abomination unto the Lord. The thoughts of the wicked are an abomination unto the Lord." God hates sin, and is its uncompromising foe. Sin is a vile and detestable thing to God. Isa. 59:1, 2--"Behold, the Lord's hand is not shortened, that it cannot save; neither his ear heavy, that it cannot hear. But your iniquities have separated between you and your God, and your sins have hid his face from you, that he will not hear." Israel's sin had raised a partition wall. The infinite distance between the sinner and God is because of sin. The sinner and God are at opposite poles of the moral universe. This in answer to Israel's charge of God's inability. From these two scriptures it is clear that God's holiness manifests itself in the hatred of sin and the separation of the sinner from himself. Herein lies the need of the atonement, whereby this awful distance is bridged over. This is the lesson taught by the construction of the Tabernacle as to the division into the holy place and the most holy place. Prov. 15:9--"But he loveth him that followeth after righteousness." John 3:16--"For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son," etc. Here God's holiness is seen in that He loves righteousness in the life of His children to such a degree that He gave His only begotten Son to secure it. The Cross shows how much God loves holiness. The Cross stands for God's holiness before even His love. For Christ died not merely for our sins, but in order that He might provide us with that righteousness of life which God loves. "He died that we might be forgiven; he died to make us good." Do we love holiness to the extent of sacrificing for it? For other manifestations see under Righteousness and Justice of God. (4) Practical deductions from the doctrine of God's Holiness. First, we should approach God with "reverence and godly fear" (Heb. 12:28). In the story of Moses' approach to the burning bush, the smiting of the men at Bethshemesh, the boundary set about Mt. Sinai, we are taught to feel our own unworthiness. There is too much hilarity in our approach unto God. Eccl. 5:1-3 inculcates great care in our address to God. Second, we shall have right views of sin when we get right views of God's holiness. Isaiah, the holiest man in all Israel, was cast down at the sight of his own sin after he had seen the vision of God's holiness. The same thing is true of Job (40:3-4; 42:4-5). We confess sin in such easy and familiar terms that it has almost lost its terror for us. Third, that approach to a holy God must be through the merits of Christ, and on the ground of a righteousness which is Christ's and which naturally we do not possess. Herein lies the need of the atonement. b) The Righteousness and Justice of God. In a certain sense these attributes are but the manifestation of God's holiness. It is holiness as manifested in dealing with the sons of men. Holiness has to do more particularly with the character of God in itself, while in Righteousness and Justice that character is expressed in the dealings of God with men. Three things may be said in the consideration of the Righteousness and Justice of God: first, there is the imposing of righteousness laws and demands, which may he called legislative holiness, and may he known as the Righteousness of God; second, there is the executing of the penalties attached to those laws, which may be called judicial holiness; third, there is the sense in which the attributes of the Righteousness and Justice of God may be regarded as the actual carrying out of the holy nature of God in the government of the world. So that in the Righteousness of God we have His love of holiness, and in the Justice of God, His hatred of sin. Again Righteousness, as here used, has reference to the very nature of God as He is in Himself--that attribute which leads God always to do right. Justice, as an attribute of God, is devoid of all passion or caprice; it is vindicative not vindictive. And so the Righteousness and Justice of the God of Israel was made to stand out prominently as contrasted with the caprice of the heathen gods. (1) Scriptural statement of the fact. Psalm 116:5--"Gracious is the Lord, and righteous; yea, our God is merciful." The context here shows that it is because of this fact that God listens to men, and because having promised to hear He is bound to keep His promises. Ezra 9:15--"0 Lord God of Israel, thou art righteous." Here the Righteousness of Jehovah is acknowledged in the punishment of Israel's sins. Thou art just, and thou hast brought us into the state in which we are today. Psa. 145:17--"The Lord is righteous in all his ways, and holy in all his works." This is evident in the rewards He gives to the upright, in lifting up the lowly, and in abundantly blessing the good, pure, and true. Jer. 12:1--"Righteous art thou, O Lord, when I plead with thee." That is to say, "If I were to bring a charge against Thee I should not be able to convict Thee of injustice, even though I be painfully exercised over the mysteries of Thy providence." These scriptures clearly set forth not only the fact that God is righteous and just, but also define these attributes. Here we are told that God, in His government of the world, does always that which is suitable, straight, and right. (2) How the Righteousness and Justice of God is revealed. In two ways: first, in punishing the wicked: retributive justice, second, in rewarding the righteous: remunerative justice. _aa) In the punishment of the wicked._ Psa. 11:4-7--"The Lord is in his holy temple, the Lord's throne is in heaven: his eyes behold, his eyelids try, the children of men. The Lord trieth the righteous; but the wicked and him that loveth violence his soul hateth. Upon the wicked he shall rain snares, fire and brimstone and an horrible tempest. This shall be the portion of their cup." This is David's reply to his timid advisers. Saul may reign upon the earth and do wickedly, but God reigns from heaven and will do right. He sees who does right and who does wrong. And there is that in His nature which recoils from the evil that He sees, and will lead Him ultimately to punish it. There is such a thing as the wrath of God. It is here described. Whatever awful thing the description in this verse may mean for the wicked, God grant that we may never know. In Exod. 9:23-27 we have the account of the plague of hail, following which are these words: "And Pharaoh sent...for Moses and Aaron, and said unto them, I have sinned this time: the Lord is righteous, and I and my people are wicked." Pharaoh here acknowledges the perfect justice of God in punishing him for his sin and rebellion. He knew that he had deserved it all, even though cavillers today say there was injustice with God in His treatment of Pharaoh. Pharaoh himself certainly did not think so. Dan. 9:12-14 and Rev. 16:5, 6 bring out the same thought. How careful sinners ought to be not to fall into the hands of the righteous Judge! No sinner at last will be able to say, "I did not deserve this punishment." _bb) In forgiving the sins of the penitent._ 1 John 1:9 (R. V.)--"If we confess our sins, he is faithful and righteous to forgive us our sins, and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness." Ordinarily, the forgiveness of sin is associated with the mercy, love, and compassion of God, and not with His righteousness and justice. This verse assures us that if we confess our sins, the righteousness and justice of God is our guarantee for forgiveness--God cannot but forgive and cleanse us from all sin. _cc) In keeping His word and promise to His children._ Neh. 9:7, 8--"Thou art the Lord the God, who didst choose Abram...and madest a covenant with him to give the land of the Canaanites...to his seed, and hast performed thy words; for thou art righteous." We need to recall the tremendous obstacles which stood in the way of the fulfillment of this promise, and yet we should remember the eleventh chapter of Hebrews. When God gives His word, and makes a promise, naught in heaven, on earth, or in hell can make that promise void. His righteousness is the guarantee of its fulfillment. _dd) In showing Himself to be the vindicator of His people from all their enemies._ Psa. 129:1-4--"Many a time have they afflicted me...yet they have not prevailed against me. The Lord is righteous: he hath cut asunder the cords of the wicked." Sooner or later, God's people will triumph gloriously as David triumphed over Saul. Even in this life God will give us rest from our enemies; and there shall assuredly come a day when we shall be "where the wicked cease from troubling, and the weary are at rest." _ee) In the rewarding of the righteous._ Heb. 6:10--"For God is not unrighteous to forget your work and labor of love, which ye have showed towards his name, in that ye have ministered unto the saints, and do minister." Those who had shown their faith by their works would not now be allowed to lose that faith. The very idea of divine justice implies that the use of this grace, thus evidenced, will be rewarded, not only by continuance in grace, but their final perseverance and reward. 2 Tim. 4:8--"Henceforth there is laid up for me a crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous judge, will give me at that day: and not to me only, but unto all them that love hiss appearing." The righteous Judge will not allow the faithful believer to go unrewarded. He is not like the unrighteous judges of Rome and the Athenian games. Here we are not always rewarded, but some time we shall receive full reward for all the good that we have done. The righteousness of God is the guarantee of all this. c) The Mercy and Loving-kindness of God. By these attributes is meant, in general, the kindness, goodness, and compassion of God, the love of God in its relation to both the obedient and the disobedient sons of men. The dew drops on the thistle as well as on the rose. More specifically: Mercy is usually exercised in connection with guilt; it is that attribute of God which leads Him to seek the welfare, both temporal and spiritual, of sinners, even though at the cost of great sacrifice on His part. "But God, who is rich in mercy, for his great love wherewith he loved us...God commendeth his love towards us, in that, while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us." (Eph. 2:4; Rom. 5:8.) Loving-kindness is that attribute of God which leads Him to bestow upon His obedient children His constant and choice blessing. "He that spared not his own Son, but freely delivered him up for us all, how shall he not with him freely give us all things?" (Rom. 8:32.) (I) Scriptural statement of the fact. Psa. 103:8--"The Lord is merciful and gracious, slow to anger, and plenteous in mercy." For, instead of inflicting pain, poverty, death--which are the wages of sin--God has spared our lives, given us health, increased our blessings and comforts, and given us the life of the ages. Deut. 4:31--"(For the Lord thy God is a merciful God); he will not forsake thee, neither destroy thee, nor forget the covenant of thy fathers." God is ready to accept the penitence of Israel, even now, if only it be sincere. Israel will return and find God only because He is merciful and does not let go of her. It is His mercy that forbids his permanently forsaking His people. Psa. 86:15--"But thou, O Lord, art a God full of compassion, and gracious, long-suffering, and plenteous in mercy and truth." It was because God had so declared Himself to be of this nature that David felt justified in feeling that God would not utterly forsake him in his time of great stress and need. The most striking illustration of the Mercy and Loving-kindness of God is set forth in the parable of the Prodigal Son (Luke 15:11-32). Here we have not only the welcome awaiting the wanderer, but also the longing for his return on the part of the anxious and loving father. (1) How the Mercy and Loving-kindness of God are manifested. In general: We must not forget that God is absolutely sovereign in the bestowal of His blessings--"Therefore hath he mercy on whom he will have mercy" (Rom. 9:18). We should also remember that God wills to have mercy on all His creatures--"For thou, Lord, art good, and ready to forgive, and plenteous in mercy to all them that call upon thee" (Psa. 86:5). _aa) Mercy--towards sinners in particular._ Luke 6:36--"Be ye therefore merciful, as your Father also is merciful." Matt. 5:45--"That ye may be the children, of your Father which is in heaven: for he maketh his sun to rise on the evil and the good, and sendeth rain on the just and the unjust." Here even the impenitent and hard-hearted are the recipients of God's mercy; all sinners, even the impenitent are included in the sweep of His mercy. Isa. 55:7--"Let the wicked forsake his way, and the unrighteous man his thoughts, and let him return unto the Lord: and he will have mercy upon him; and to our God, for he will abundantly pardon." God's mercy is a holy mercy; it will by no means protect sin, but anxiously awaits to pardon it. God's mercy is a city of refuge for the penitent, but by no means a sanctuary for the presumptuous. See Prov. 28:13, and Psa. 51:1. God's mercy is here seen in pardoning the sin of those who do truly repent. We speak about "trusting in the mercy of the Lord." Let us forsake sin and then trust in the mercy of the Lord and we shall find pardon. 2 Pet. 3:9--"The Lord...is longsuffering to us-ward, not willing that any should perish, but that all should come to repentance." Neh. 9:31--"Nevertheless for thy great mercies' sake thou didst not utterly consume them; for thou art a gracious and merciful God." Here is mercy manifested in forbearance with sinners. If God should have dealt with them in justice they would have been cut off long before. Think of the evil, the impurity, the sin that God must see. How it must disgust Him. Then remember that He could crush it all in a moment. Yet He does not. He pleads; He sacrifices to show His love for sinners. Surely it is because of the Lord's mercies that we are not consumed, and because His compassions fail not. Yet, beware lest we abuse this goodness, for our God is also a consuming fire. "Behold, the goodness and the severity of God." The Mercy of God is here shown in His loving forbearance with sinners. _bb) Loving-kindness towards the saints, in particular._ Psa. 32:10--"But he that trusteth in the Lord, mercy shall compass him about." The very act of trust on the part of the believer moves the heart of God to protect him just as in the case of a parent and his child. The moment I throw myself on God I am enveloped in His mercy--mercy is my environment, like a fiery wall it surrounds me, without a break through which an evil can creep. Besistance surrounds us with "sorrow"; but trust surrounds us with "mercy." In the center of that circle of mercy sits and rests the trusting soul. Phil. 2:27--"For indeed he was sick nigh unto death; but God had mercy on him; and not on him only, but on me also, lest I should have sorrow upon sorrow." Here God's loving-kindness is seen in healing up His sick children. Yet remember that "He hath mercy on whom He will have mercy." Not every sick child of God is raised. Psa. 6:4--"Have mercy upon me, O Lord, for I am weak: O Lord, heal me...Deliver my soul for thy mercies' sake (v. 4)." The psalmist asks God to illustrate His mercy in restoring to him his spiritual health. From these scriptures we see that the mercy of God is revealed in healing His children of bodily and spiritual sickness. Psa. 21:7--"For the king trusteth in the Lord, and through the mercy of the most High he shall not be moved." David feels that, because he trusts in the mercy of the Lord, his throne, whatever may dash against it, is perfectly secure. Is not this true also of the believer's eternal security? More to the mercy of God than to the perseverance of the saints is to be attributed the eternal security of the believer. "He will hold me fast." d) The Love of God. Christianity is really the only religion that sets forth the Supreme Being as Love. The gods of the heathen are angry, hateful beings, and are in constant need of appeasing. (1) Scriptural statements of the fact. 1 John 4:8-16--"God is love." "God is light"; "God is Spirit"; "God is love." Spirit and Light are expressions of God's essential nature. Love is the expression of his personality corresponding to His nature. It is the nature of God to love. He dwells always in the atmosphere of love. Just how to define or describe the love of God may be difficult if not impossible. It appears from certain scriptures (1 John 3:16; John 3:16) that the love of God is of such a nature that it betokens a constant interest in the physical and spiritual welfare of His creatures as to lead Him to make sacrifices beyond human conception to reveal that love. (2) The objects of God's Love. _aa) Jesus Christ, God's only-begotten Son, is the special object of His Love._ Matt. 3:17--"This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased." Also Matt. 17:5; Luke 20:13. Jesus Christ shares the love of the Father in a unique sense, just as He is His Son in a unique sense. He is especially "My chosen." "The One in whom my soul delighteth," "My beloved Son,"--literally: the Son of mine, the beloved. And we can readily understand how that He who did the will of God perfectly should thus become the special object of the Father's love. Of course, if the love of God is eternal, as is the nature of God, which must be the case, then, that love must have had an eternal object to love. So Christ, in addressing the Father, says: "Thou lovedst me before the foundation of the world." _bb) Believers in His Son, Jesus Christ, are special objects of God's Love._ John 16:27--"For the Father himself loveth you, because ye have loved me, and have believed that I came out from God." 14:21-23--"He that loveth me shall be loved of my Father. ...If a man love me...my Father will love him." 17:23--"And hast loved them, as thou hast loved me." Do we really believe these words? We are not on the outskirts of God's love, but in its very midst. There stands Christ right in the very midst of that circle of the Father's love; then He draws us to that spot, and, as it were, disappears, leaving us standing there bathed in the same loving-kindness of the Father in which He Himself had basked. _cc) God loves the world of sinners and ungodly men._ John 3:16--"For God so loved the world" was a startling truth to Nicodemus in his narrow exclusivism. God loved not the Jew only, but also the Gentile; not a part of the world of men, but every man in it, irrespective of his moral character. For "God commendeth his love towards us, in that, while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us" (Rom. 5:8). This is wonderful when we begin to realize what a world in sin is. The love of God is broader than the measure of man's mind. God desires the salvation of all men (1 Tim. 2:4). (3) How the Love of God reveals Itself. _aa) In making infinite sacrifice for the salvation of men._ 1 John 4:9, 10--"In this was manifested the love of God towards us, because that God sent his only-begotten Son into the world, that we might live through him. Herein is love, not that we loved God, but that God loved us, and sent his Son to be the propitiation for our sins." Love is more than compassion; it hides not itself as compassion may do, but displays itself actively in behalf of its object. The Cross of Calvary is the highest expression of the love of God for sinful man. He gave not only a Son, but His only Son, His well-beloved. _bb) In bestowing full and complete pardon on the penitent._ Isa. 38:17--"Thou hast in love to my soul delivered it from the pit of corruption: for thou hast cast all my sins behind thy back." Literally, "Thou hast loved my soul back from the pit of destruction." God had taken the bitterness out of his life and given him the gracious forgiveness of his sins, by putting them far away from Him. Eph. 2:4, 5--"But God, who is rich in mercy, for his great love wherewith he loved us, even when we were dead in sins, hath quickened us together with Christ," etc. Verses 1-3 of this chapter show the race rushing headlong to inevitable ruin. "But" reverses the picture; when all help for man fails, then God steps in, and by His mercy, which springs from "His great love," redeems fallen man, and gives him not only pardon, but a position in His heavenly kingdom by the side of Jesus Christ. All this was "for," or, perhaps better, "in order to satisfy His great love." Love led Him to do it. _cc) In remembering His children in all the varying circumstances of life._ Isa. 63:9--"In all their affliction he was afflicted, and the angel of his presence saved them: in his love and in his pity he redeemed them; and he bare them, and carried them all the days of old." Here is retrospection on the part of the prophet. He thinks of all the oppressions of Israel, and recalls how God's interests have been bound up with theirs. He was not their adversary; He was their sympathetic, loving friend. He suffered with them. Isa. 49:15, 16--"Can a woman forget her sucking child? Yea, they may forget, yet will I not forget thee. Behold, I have graven thee on the palms of my hands; thy walls are continually before me." It was the custom those days to trace upon the palms of the hands the outlines of any object of affection; hence a man engraved the name of his god. So God could not act without being reminded of Israel. God is always mindful of His own. Saul of Tarsus learned this truth on the way to Damascus. THE DOCTRINE OF JESUS CHRIST. A. THE PERSON OF CHRIST. I. THE HUMANITY OF JESUS CHRIST. 1. HE HAD A HUMAN PARENTAGE. 2. HE GREW AS OTHER HUMAN BEINGS DO. 3. HE HAD THE APPEARANCE OF A MAN. 4. HE WAS POSSESSED OF A BODY, SOUL, AND SPIRIT. 5. HE WAS SUBJECT TO THE SINLESS INFIRMITIES OF HUMANITY. 6. HUMAN NAMES ARE GIVEN TO HIM. II. THE DEITY OF JESUS CHRIST. 1. DIVINE NAMES ARE GIVEN TO HIM. 2. DIVINE WORSHIP IS ASCRIBED TO HIM. 3. DIVINE QUALITIES AND PROPERTIES ARE POSSESSED BY HIM. 4. DIVINE OFFICES ARE ASCRIBED TO HIM. 5. DIVINE ATTRIBUTES ARE POSSESSED BY HIM. 6. CHRIST'S NAME IS COUPLED WITH THAT OF THE FATHER. 7. THE SELF-CONSCIOUSNESS OF JESUS CHRISTAS MANIFESTED: a) In His Visit to the Temple. b) In His Baptism. c) In His Temptation. d) In the Calling of the Twelve and the Seventy. e) In the Sermon on the Mount. B. THE WORK OF CHRIST. 1. HIS DEATH. 2. HIS RESURRECTION. 3. HIS ASCENSION AND EXALTATION. THE DOCTRINE OF JESUS CHRIST. A. THE PERSON OF CHRIST. The close kinship of Christ with Christianity is one of the distinctive features of the Christian religion. If you take away the name of Buddha from Buddhism and remove the personal revealer entirely from his system; if you take away the personality of Mahomet from Mahommedanism, or the personality of Zoroaster from the religion of the Parsees, the entire doctrine of these religions would still be left intact. Their practical value, such as it is, would not be imperilled or lessened. But take away from Christianity the name and person of Jesus Christ and what have you left? Nothing! The whole substance and strength of the Christian faith centres in Jesus Christ. Without Him there is absolutely nothing.--_Sinclair Patterson._ From beginning to end, in all its various phases and aspects and elements, the Christian faith and life is determined by the person and the work of Jesus Christ. It owes its life and character at every point to Him. Its convictions are convictions about Him. Its hopes are hopes which He has inspired and which it is for Him to fulfill. Its ideals are born of His teaching and His life. Its strength is the strength of His spirit.--_James Denney._ I. THE HUMANITY OF JESUS CHRIST. 1. THE SCRIPTURES DISTINCTLY TEACH THAT HE HAD A HUMAN PARENTAGE: THAT HE WAS BORN OF A WOMAN--THE VIRGIN MARY. Matt. 1:18--"Mary ... was found with child of the Holy Ghost." 2-11--"The young child with Mary his mother." 12:47 --"Behold, thy mother and thy brethren." 13:55--"Is not his mother called Mary?" John 1:14--"The Word was made flesh, and dwelt among us." 2:1--"The mother of Jesus was there." Acts 13:23--"Of this man's seed hath God ... raised ... ..Jesus." Rom.1:3--"Of the seed of David according to the flesh." Gal. 4:4--"Made of a woman." In thus being born of a woman Jesus Christ submitted to the conditions of a human life and a human body; became humanity's son by a human birth. Of the "seed of the woman," of the "seed of Abraham," and of line and lineage of David, Jesus Christ is undeniably human. We must not lose sight of the fact that there was something supernatural surrounding the birth of the Christ. Matt. 1:18--"On this wise," and Luke 1:35--"The Holy Ghost shall come upon thee, and the power of the Highest shall overshadow thee; therefore also that holy thing which shall be born of thee shall be called the Son of God." "On this wise" indicates that this birth was different from those recorded before it. Luke 1:35 is explicit about the matter. To assail the virgin birth is to assail the Virgin's life. He was of "the seed of the woman," not of the man. (See Luke 1:34--"How shall this be, seeing I know not a man?") No laws of heredity are sufficient to account for His generation. By a creative act God broke through the chain of human generation and brought into the world a supernatural being. The narrative of the virgin birth need not stagger us. The abundance of historical evidence in its favor should lead to its acceptance. All the manuscripts in all the ancient versions contain the record of it. All the traditions of the early church recognize it. Mention of it is made in the earliest of all the creeds: the Apostles' Creed. If the doctrine of the virgin birth is rejected it must be on purely subjective grounds. If one denies the possibility of the supernatural in the experience of human life, it is, of course, easy for him to deny this doctrine. To one who believes that Jesus was human only it would seem comparatively easy to deny the supernatural birth on purely subjective grounds. The preconceptions of thinkers to a great degree determine their views. It would seem that such a wonderful life as that lived by Christ, having as it did such a wonderful finish in the resurrection and ascension, might, indeed should, have a wonderful and extraordinary entrance into the world. The fact that the virgin birth is attested by the Scriptures, by tradition, by creeds, and that it is in perfect harmony with all the other facts of that wonderful life should be sufficient attestation of its truth. [Footnote: _"The Virgin Birth,"_ by James Orr, D.D., deals fully and most ably with this subject.] It has been thought strange that if, as is claimed, the virgin birth is so essential to the right understanding of the Christian religion, that Mark, John, and Paul should say nothing about it. But does such silence really exist? John says "the Word became flesh"; while Paul speaks of "God manifest in the flesh." Says L. F. Anderson: "This argument from silence is sufficiently met by the considerations that Mark passes over thirty years of our Lord's life in silence; that John presupposes the narratives of Matthew and Luke; that Paul does not deal with the story of Jesus' life. The facts were known at first only to Mary and Joseph; their very nature involved reticence until Jesus was demonstrated to be the Son of God with power by the resurrection from the dead; meantime the natural development of Jesus and His refusal to set up an earthly kingdom have made the miraculous events of thirty years ago seem to Mary like a wonderful dream; so only gradually the marvelous tale of the mother of the Lord found its way into the Gospel tradition and the creeds of the church, and into the innermost hearts of the Christians of all countries." 2. HE GREW IN WISDOM AND STATURE AS OTHER HUMAN BEINGS DO. HE WAS SUBJECT TO THE ORDINARY LAWS OF HUMAN DEVELOPMENT IN BODY AND SOUL. Luke 2:40, 52, 46--"And the child grew, and waxed strong in spirit, filled with wisdom: and the grace of God was upon him. And Jesus increased in wisdom and stature, and in favor with God and man. And....they found him in the temple, sitting in the midst of the doctors, both hearing them, and asking them questions." Just to what extent His sinless nature influenced His growth we may not be able to say. It seems clear, however, from the Scriptures, that we are to attribute Jesus' growth and advancement to the training He received in a godly home; to the instruction given at the synagogue and the temple; from His own personal study of the Scriptures, and from His fellowship and communion with His Father. Both the human and divine element entered into His training and development, which were as real in the experience of Jesus as in that of any other human being. We are told that "Jesus grew, and increased in wisdom and stature." He "increased," i.e., He kept advancing; He "grew," and the reflective form of the verb would seem to indicate that His growth was due to His own efforts. From all this it seems clear that Jesus received His training along the lines of ordinary human progress--instruction, study, thought. Nor should the fact that Christ possessed divine attributes, such as omniscience and omnipotence, militate against a perfectly human development. Could He not have possessed them and yet not have used them? Self-emptying is not self-extinction. Is it incredible to think that, although possessing these divine attributes, He should have held them in subjection in order that the Holy Spirit might have His part to play in that truly human, and yet divine, life? 3. HE HAD THE APPEARANCE OF A MAN. John 4:9--"How is it that thou, being a Jew." Luke 24:13--The two disciples on the way to Emmaus took Him to be an ordinary man. John 20:15--"She, supposing him to be the gardener." 21:4, 5--"Jesus stood on the shore; but the disciples knew not that it was Jesus." The woman of Samaria evidently recognized Jesus as a Jaw by His features or speech. To her He was just an ordinary Jew, at least to begin with. There is no Biblical warrant for surrounding the head of Christ with a halo, as the artists do. His pure life no doubt gave Him a distinguished look, just as good character similarly distinguishes men today. Of course we know nothing definite as to the appearance of Jesus, for no picture or photograph of Him do we possess. The apostles draw attention only to the tone of His voice (Mark 7:34; 15:34). After the resurrection and ascension Jesus seems still to have retained the form of a man (Acts 7:56; 1 Tim. 2:5). 4. HE WAS POSSESSED OF A HUMAN PHYSICAL NATURE: BODY, SOUL AND SPIRIT. John 1:14--"And the Word was made flesh." Heb. 2:14--"For asmuch then as the children are partakers of flesh and blood, he also himself likewise took part of the same." Matt. 26:12--"She hath poured this ointment on my body." v. 38--"My soul is exceeding sorrowful." Luke 23:46--"Father, into thy hands I commend my spirit." 24:39--"Behold my hands and my feet, that it is I myself: handle me, and see; for a spirit hath not flesh and bones, as ye see me have." By his incarnation Christ came into possession of a real human nature; He came not only unto His own, but came unto them in the likeness of their own flesh. Of course we must distinguish between a human nature and a carnal nature. A carnal nature is really not an integral part of man as God made him in the beginning. Christ's human nature was truly human, yet sinless: "Yet without sin" (Heb. 4:15). 5. HE WAS SUBJECT TO THE SINLESS INFIRMITIES OF HUMAN NATURE. Matt. 4:2--"He was afterward an hungred." John 19:28--"Jesus....saith, I thirst." 4:6--"Jesus....being wearied with his journey." Matt. 8:24--"But he was asleep." John 19:30--"He bowed his head, and gave up the ghost." He mourns over Jerusalem (Matt. 23:37); weeps over His dead friend Lazarus, (John 11:35); craves for human sympathy in the garden (Matt. 26:36,40); tempted in all points like as we are (Heb. 4:15). There is not a note in the great organ of our humanity which, when touched, does not find a sympathetic vibration in the mighty range and scope of our Lord's being, saving, of course, the jarring discord of sin. But sin is not a necessary and integral part of unfallen human nature. We speak of natural depravity, but, in reality, depravity is _un_natural. God made Adam upright and perfect; sin is an accident; it is not necessary to a true human being. 6. HUMAN NAMES ARE GIVEN TO HIM BY HIMSELF AND OTHERS. Luke 19:10--"Son of Man." Matt. 1:21--"Thou shalt call his name Jesus." Acts 2:22--"Jesus of Nazareth." 1 Tim. 2:5--"The man Christ Jesus." No less than eighty times in the Gospels does Jesus call himself the Son of Man. Even when acquiescing in the title Son of God as addressed to Himself He sometimes immediately after substitutes the title Son of Man (John 1:49-51; Matt 26:63,64). While we recognize the fact that there is something official in the title Son of Man, something connected with His relation to the Kingdom of God, it is nevertheless true that in using this title He assuredly identifies Himself with the sons of men. While He is rightly called _THE_ Son of Man, because, by His sinless nature and life He is unique among the sons of men, He is nevertheless _A_ Son of Man in that He is bone of our bone and flesh of our flesh. II. THE DEITY OF JESUS CHEIST. 1. DIVINE NAMES ARE GIVEN TO HIM. a) He is Called God. John 1:1--"The Word was God." Heb. 1:8--"But unto the Son he saith, Thy throne, O God, is for ever." John 1:18--"The only begotten Son (or better "only begotten God")." Absolute deity is here ascribed to Christ. 20:28-"My Lord and my God." Not an expression of amazement, but a confession of faith. This confession accepted by Christ, hence equivalent to the acceptance of deity, and an assertion of it on Christ's part. Rom. 9:5--"God blessed forever." Tit. 2:13--"The great God and our Saviour Jesus Christ." 1 John,5:20--"His Son Jesus Christ. This is the true God." In all these passages Christ is called God. It may be argued that while Christ is here called God, yet that does not argue for nor prove His deity, for human judges are also called "gods" in John 10:35--"If he called them gods unto whom the word of God came." True, but it is then used in a secondary and relative sense, and not in the absolute sense as when used of the Son. b) He is Called the Son of God. The references containing this title are numerous. Among others see Matt. 16:16, 17; 8:29; 14:33; Mark 1:1; 14:61; Luke 1:35; 4:41. While it may be true that in the synoptic Gospels Jesus may not be said to have claimed this title for Himself, yet He unhesitatingly accepted it when used of Him and addressed to Him by others. Further, it seems clear from the charges made against Him that He did claim such an honor for Himself. Matt. 27:40, 43--"For he said, I am the Son of God." Mark 14:61, 62 --"Art thou the Christ, the Son of the Blessed" (Luke 22:70--"Art thou then the Son of God? And Jesus said, I am." In John's Gospel, however, Jesus plainly calls Himself "the Son of God" (5:25; 10:36 11:4). Indeed, John's Gospel begins with Christ as God: "The Word was God," and ends with the same thought: "My Lord and my God" (20:28). (Chapter 21 is an epilogue.) Dr. James Orr says, in speaking of the title Son of God as ascribed to Christ: "This title is one to which there can be no finite comparison or analogy. The oneness with God which it designates is not such reflex influence of the divine thought and character such as man and angels may attain, but identity of essence constituting him not God-like alone, but God. Others may be children of God in a moral sense; but by this right of elemental nature, none but He; He is herein, the _only_ Son; so little separate, so close to the inner divine life which He expresses, that He is in the bosom of the Father. This language denotes two natures homogeneous, entirely one, and both so essential to the Godhead that neither can be omitted from any truth you speak of it." If when He called Himself "the Son of God" He did not mean more than that He was _a_ son of God, why then did the high priest accuse Him of blasphemy when He claimed this title (Matt. 26: 61-63)? Does not Mark 12:6--"Having yet therefore one son, his well-beloved, he sent him also last unto them, saying, They will reverence my son," indicate a special sonship? The sonship of Christ is human and historical, it is true; but it is more: it is transcendent, unique, solitary. That something unique and solitary lay in this title seems clear from John 5:18--"The Jews sought the more to kill Him....because he....said....also that God was His Father, making Himself equal with God." The use of the word "only begotten" also indicates the uniqueness of this sonship. For use of the word see Luke 7:12--"The only son of his mother." 9:38--"For he is mine only child." This word is used of Christ by John in 1:14, 18; 3:16, 18; 1 John 4:9, and distinguishes between Christ as the only Son, and the "many....children of God" (John 1:12, 13). In one sense Christ has no brethren: He stands absolutely alone. This contrast is clearly emphasized in John 1:14, 18--"only begotten Son," and 1:12 (R. V.)--"many....children." He is the Son from eternity: they "become" sons in time. He is one; they are many. He is Son by nature; they are sons by adoption and grace. He is Son of the same essence with the Father; they are of different substance from the Father. c) He is Called The Lord. Acte 4:33; 16:31; Luke 2:11; Acts 9:17; Matt. 22:43-45. It is true that this term is used of men, e.g., Acts 16:30--"Sirs (Lords), what must I do to be saved?" John 12:21--"Sir (Lord), we would see Jesus." It is not used, however, in this unique sense, as the connection will clearly show. In our Lord's day, the title "Lord" as used of Christ was applicable only to the Deity, to God. "The Ptolemies and the Roman Emperors would allow the name to be applied to them only when they permitted themselves to be deified. The archaeological discoveries at Oxyrhyncus put this fact beyond a doubt. So when the New Testament writers speak of Jesus as Lord, there can be no question as to what they mean." --_Wood._ d) Other Divine Names are Ascribed to Him: "The first and the last" (Rev. 1:17). This title used of Jehovah in Isa. 41:4; 44:6; 48:12. "The Alpha and Omega" (Rev. 22:13, 16); cf. 1:8 where it is used of God. 2. DIVINE WORSHIP IS ASCRIBED TO JESUS CHRIST. The Scriptures recognize worship as being due to God, to Deity alone: Matt. 4:10--"Worship the Lord thy God, and him only." Rev. 22:8, 9--"I fell down to worship before the feet of the angel...Then saith he unto me, See thou do it not:.... worship God." John was not allowed even to worship God at the feet of the angel. Acts 14:14, 15; 10:25, 26--Cornelius fell down at the feet of Peter, and worshipped him. "But Peter took him up, saying, Stand up; I myself also am a man." See what an awful fate was meted out to Herod because he dared to accept worship that belonged to God only (Acts 12:20-25). Yet Jesus Christ unhesitatingly accepted such worsnip, indeed, called for it (John 4:10). See John 20:28; Matt. 14:33; Luke 24:52; 5:8. The homage given to Christ in these scriptures would be nothing short of sacrilegious idolatry if Christ were not God. There seemed to be not the slightest reluctance on the part of Christ in the acceptance of such worship. Therefore either Christ was God or He was an imposter. But His whole life refutes the idea of imposture. It was He who said, "Worship God only"; and He had no right to take the place of God if He were not God. God himself commands all men to render worship to the Son, even as they do to Him. John 5:23, 24--"That all men should honor the Son, even as they honor the Father." Even the angels are commanded to render worship to the Son. Heb. 1:6--"And let all the angels of God worship him." Phil. 2:10--"That at the name of Jesus every knee should bow." It was the practice of the apostles and the early church to render worship to Christ: 2 Cor. 12:8-10--"I besought the Lord." Acts 7:59--"And they stoned Stephen, calling upon God, and saying, Lord Jesus, receive my spirit." 1 Cor. 1:2--"Them that...call upon the name of Jesus Christ our Lord." The Christians of all ages have not been satisfied with admiring Christ, they have adored and worshipped Him. They have approached His person in the attitude of self-sacrifice and worship as in the presence of and to a God. Robert Browning quoted, in a letter to a lady in her last illness, the words of Charles Lamb, when in a gay fancy with some friends as to how he and they would feel if the greatest of the dead were to appear suddenly in flesh and blood once more--on the first suggestion, and "if Christ entered this room?" changed his tone at once, and stuttered out as his manner was when moved: "You see --if Shakespeare entered, we should all rise; if Christ appeared, we must kneel." 3. HE POSSESSES THE QUALITIES AND PROPERTIES OF DEITY. a) Pre-Existence. John 1:1--"In the beginning"; cf. Gen 1:1 John 8:58--"Before Abraham was, I am." That is to say: "Abraham's existence presupposes mine, not mine his. He was dependent upon me, not I upon him for existence. Abraham came into being at a certain point of time, but I am." Here is simple being without beginning or end. See also John 17:5; Phil. 2:6; Col. 1:16, 17. b) Self-Existence and Life-Giving Power: John 5:21, 26--"For as the Father raiseth up the dead and quickeneth them, even so the Son quickeneth whom he will." "For as the Father hath life in himself, so hath he given to the Son to have life in himself." 1:4--"In him was life." See also 14:6; Heb. 7:16; John 17:3-5; 10:17, 18. These scriptures teach that all life--physical, moral, spiritual, eternal--has its source in Christ. c) Immutability: Heb. 13:8--"Jesus Christ the same yesterday, and today, and for ever." See also 1:12. All nature, which like a garment He throws around Him is subject to change and decay; Jesus Christ is the same always, He never changes. Human teachers, such as are spoken of in the context, may change, but He, the Christ, never. d) All the Fulness of the Godhead Dwelt in Him: Col. 2:9--Not merely the divine perfections and attributes of Deity, but _(theotes)_ the very essence and nature of the Godhead. He was not merely God-like; He was God. 4. DIVINE OFFICES ABE ASCRIBED TO HIM. a) He is the Creator: John 1:3--"All things were made by Him." In the creation He was the acting power and personal instrument. Creation is the revelation of His mind and might. Heb. 1:10 shows the dignity of the Creator as contrasted with the creature. Col. 1:16 contradicts the Gnostic theory of emanations, and shows Christ to be the creator of all created things and beings. Rev. 3:14--"The beginning of the creation of God," means "beginning" in the active sense, _the origin,_ that by which a thing begins to be. Col. 1:15--"first-born," not made; compare with Col. 1:17, where the "for" of v. 16 shows Him to be not included in the "created things," but the origin of and superior to them all. He is the Creator of the universe (v. 16), just as He is the Head of the church (v. 18). b) He is the Upholder of All Things: Col. 1:17; Heb. 1:3. The universe is neither self-sustaining nor is it forsaken by God (Deism). Christ's power causes all things to hold together. The pulses of universal life are regulated and controlled by the throbbings of the mighty heart of Christ. c) He Has the Right to Forgive Sins. Mark 2:5-10. Luke 7:48--"And he said unto her, Thy sins are forgiven." Certain it is that the Pharisees recognized that Christ was here assuming a divine prerogative. No mere man had any right to forgive sins. God alone could do that. Hence the Pharisees' charge of blasphemy. This is no declaration of forgiveness, based upon the knowledge of the man's penitence. Christ does not merely _declare_ sins forgiven. He _actually_ forgives them. Further, Jesus, in the parable of the Two Debtors (Luke 7), declares that sins were committed against Himself (cf. Psa. 51:4--"Against thee, thee only, have I sinned"). d) The Raising of the Bodies of Men is Ascribed to Him: John 6:39, 40, 54; 11:25. Five times it is here declared by Jesus that it is His prerogative to raise the dead. It is true that others raised the dead, but under what different conditions? They worked by a delegated power (Acts 9:34); but Christ, by His own power (John 10:17, 18). Note the agony of Elisha and others, as compared with the calmness of Christ. None of these claimed to raise the dead by his own power, nor to have any such power in the general resurrection of all men. Christ did make such claims. e) He is to be the Judge of All Men; John 5:22--"For the Father judgeth no man, but hath committed all judgment unto the Son." 2 Tim. 4:1; Acts 17:31; Matt. 25:31-46. The Man of the Cross is to be the Man of the throne. The issues of the judgment are all in His hand. 5. DIVINE ATTRIBUTES ARE POSSESSED BY HIM. a) Omnipotence. Matt 28:18--"All power is given unto me in heaven and in earth." Rev. 1:8; John 17:2; Eph. I:20-22. Here is power over three realms: First, all power on earth: over disease (Luke 4:38-41); death (John 11); nature, water into wine (John 2); tempest (Matt. 8). Second, all power in hell: over demons (Luke 4:35, 36, 41); evil angels (Eph. 6). Third, all power in heaven: (Eph. 1:20-22). Finally, power over all things: (Heb. 2:8; 1:3; Matt. 28:18). b) Omniscience. John 16:30--"Now are we sure that thou knowest all things." 2:24; Matt. 24; 25; Col. 2:3. Illustrations: John 4:16-19; Mark 2:8; John 1:48. "Our Lord always leaves the impression that He knew all things in detail, both past and future, and that this knowledge comes from His original perception of the events. He does not learn them by acquisition. He simply knows them by immediate perception. Such utterances as Matt. 24 and Luke 21 carry in them a subtle difference from the utterances of the prophets. The latter spoke as men who were quite remote in point of time from their declaration of unfolding events. Jesus spoke as one who is present in the midst of the events which He depicts. He does not refer to events in the past as if He were quoting from the historic narrative in the Old Testament. The only instance which casts doubt upon this view is Mark 13:32. The parallel passage in Matthew omits, in many ancient versions, the words; "Neither the Son." The saying in Mark is capable of an interpretation which does not contradict this view of His omniscience. This is an omniscience nevertheless, which in its manifestation to men is under something of human limitation."--_Wood._ This limitation of knowledge is no argument against the infallibility of those things which Jesus did teach: for example, the Mosaic authorship of the Pentateuch. That argument, says Liddon, involves a confusion between limitation of knowledge and liability to error; whereas, plainly enough, a limitation of knowledge is one thing, and fallibility is another. St. Paul says, "We know in part," and "We see through a glass darkly." Yet Paul is so certain of the truth of that which he teaches, as to exclaim, "But though we, or an angel from heaven, preach any other gospel unto you than that which we have preached unto you, let him be accursed." Paul clearly believed in his own infallibility as a teacher of religious truth, and the church of Christ has ever since regarded his epistles as part of an infallible literature. But it is equally clear that Paul believed his knowledge of truth to be limited. Infallibility does not imply omniscience, any more than limited knowledge implies error. If a human teacher were to decline to speak upon a given subject, by saying that he did not know enough about it, this would not be a reason for disbelieving him when he proceeded to speak confidently upon a totally different subject, thereby at least implying that he did not know enough to warrant his speaking. On the contrary, his silence in the one case would be a reason for trusting his statements in the other. The argument which is under consideration in the text would have been really sound, if our Saviour had fixed the date of the day of judgment and the event had shown him to be mistaken. Why stumble over the limitation of this attribute and not over the others? Did He not hunger and thirst, for example? As God He is omnipresent, yet as man He is present only in one place. As God He is omnipotent; yet, on one occasion at least, He could do no mighty works because of the unbelief of men. c) Omnipresence. Matt. 18:20--"For where two or three are gathered together in my name, there am I in the midst of them." He is with every missionary (Matt. 28:20). He is prayed to by Christians in every place (1 Cor. 1:2). Prayer would be a mockery if we were not assured that Christ is everywhere present to hear. He fills all things, every place (Eph. 1:23). But such an all pervading presence is true only of Deity. 6. HIS NAME IS COUPLED WITH THAT OF GOD THE FATHER. The manner in which the name of Jesus Christ is coupled with that of God the Father clearly implies equality of the Son with the Father. Compare the following: a) The Apostolic Benediction. 2 Cor. 13:14. Here the Son equally with the Father is the bestower of grace. b) The Baptismal Formula. Matt. 28:19; Acts 2:38. "In the name," not the names (plural). How would it sound to say, "In the name of the Father" _and of Moses?_ Would it not seem sacrilegious? Can we imagine the effect of such words on the apostles? c) Other Passages. John 14:23--"We will come: the Father and I." 17:3--"And this is life eternal that they might know thee, the only true God, _and Jesus Christ."_ The content of saving faith includes belief in Jesus Christ equally with the Father. 10:30--"I and my Father are one." "One" is neuter, not masculine, meaning that Jesus and the Father constitute one power by which the salvation of man is secured. 2 Thess. 2:16, 17--"Now our Lord Jesus Christ himself, and God, even our Father...comfort your hearts." These two names, with a verb in the singular, intimate the oneness of the Father with the Son. 7. THE SELF-CONSCIOUSNESS OF JESUS REGARDING HIS OWN PERSON AND WORK. It will be interesting to search the Gospel records to ascertain what was in the mind of Jesus concerning Himself--His relation to the Father in particular. What bearing has the testimony of Jesus upon the question of His deity? Is the present Christian consciousness borne out by the Gospel narratives? Is Jesus Christ a man of a much higher type of faith than ours, yet one with whom we believe in God? Or is He, equally with God, the object of our faith? Do we believe _with Him_, or _on_ Him? Is there any indication in the words ascribed to Jesus, as recorded in the Gospels, of a consciousness on His part of His unique relation to God the Father? Is it Jesus Himself who is responsible for the Christian's consciousness concerning His deity, or is the Church reading into the Gospel accounts something that is not really there? Let us see. a) As Set Forth in the Narrative of His Visit to the Temple. Luke 2:41-52. This is a single flower out of the wonderfully enclosed garden of the first thirty years of our Lord's life. The emphatic words, for our purpose, are "thy father," and "my Father." These are the first recorded words of Jesus. Is there not here an indication of the consciousness on the part of Jesus of a unique relationship with His heavenly Father? Mary, not Joseph, asked the question, so contrary to Jewish custom. She said: "Thy father"; Jesus replied in substance: "Did you say _my_ father has been seeking me?" It is remarkable to note that Christ omits the word "father" when referring to His parents, cf. Matt. 12:48; Mark 3:33, 34. "_My_ Father!" No other human lips had ever uttered these words. Men said, and He taught them to say, "_Our_ Father." It is not too much to say that in this incident Christ sees, rising before Him, the great truth that God, and not Joseph, is His Father, and that it is in His true Father's house that He now stands. b) As Revealed at His Baptism: Matt. 3:13-17; Mark 1:9-ll; Luke 3:21. Here are some things to remember in connection with Christ's baptism: First, Jesus was well acquainted with the relation of John and his ministry to the Old Testament prophecy, as well as of John's own announcement that he was the Messiah's fore-runner, and that he (John) was not worthy to untie the latchet of Christ's shoes. Second, to come then to John, and to submit to baptism at his hands, would indicate that Jesus conceded the truth of all that John had said. This is emphasized when we remember Jesus' eulogy of John (Matt. 11). Thirdly, There is the descent of the Spirit, and the heavenly voice; what meaning did these things have to Jesus? If Christ's sermon in the synagogue at Nazareth is of any help here, we must believe that at His baptism, so much more than at the age of twelve, He was conscious that in thus being anointed He was associating Himself in some peculiar way with the prophecy of Isaiah, chapters 42 and 61: "Behold my Servant... I have put my Spirit upon Him." All, therefore, that must have been wrapped up in the thought of the "Servant of the Lord" in the Old Testament would assuredly be quickened in his consciousness that day when the Spirit descended upon Him. See also Luke 4:16-17; Acts 10: 38; Matt. 12:28. But what did the heavenly voice signify to Christ? "This is my beloved Son" takes us back to the second Psalm where this person is addressed as the ideal King of Israel. The last clause--"in whom I am well pleased"--refers to Isaiah 42, and portrays the servant who is anointed and empowered by the endowment of God's Spirit. We must admit that the mind of Jesus was steeped in the prophecies of the Old Testament, and that He knew to whom these passages referred. The ordinary Jew knew that much. Is it too much to say that on that baptismal day Jesus was keenly conscious that these Old Testament predictions were fulfilled in Him? We think not. c) As Set Forth in the Record of the Temptation. Matt. 4:1-11; Mark 1:12, 13; Luke 4:1-13. That Jesus entered into the temptation in the wilderness with the consciousness of the revelation He received, and of which He was conscious at the baptism, seems clear from the narratives. Certain it is that Satan based his temptations upon Christ's consciousness of His unique relation to God as His Son. Throughout the whole of the temptation Satan regards Christ as being in a unique sense the Son of God, the ideal King, through whom the kingdom of God is to be established upon the earth. Indeed, so clearly is the kingship of Jesus recognized in the temptation narrative that the whole question agitated there is as to how that kingdom may be established in the world. It must be admitted that a careful reading of the narratives forces us to the conclusion that throughout all the temptation Christ was conscious of His position with reference to the founding of God's kingdom in the world. d) As Set Forth in the Calling of the Twelve and the Seventy. The record of this event is found in Matt. 10; Mark 3:13-19; 6:7-13; Luke 9:1-6; 10:1-14. This important event in the life of our Lord had an important bearing upon His self-consciousness as to His person and work. Let us note some of the details: _First_, as to the number, twelve. Is there no suggestion here with reference to the New Jerusalem when the Messiah shall sit upon the throne surrounded by the twelve apostles seated on their thrones? Is not Jesus here conscious of Himself as being the centre of the scene thus described in the Apocalypse? _Second_, He gave them power. Is not Jesus here repeating what had been done for Him at His baptism: conveying super-human power? Who can give this power that is strong enough to make even demons obey? No one less than God surely. _Third_, note that the message which He committed to the twelve concerned matters of life and death. Not to receive that message would be equivalent to the rejection of the Father. _Fourth_, all this is to be done in _His_ name, and for _His_ name's sake. Fidelity to Jesus is that on which the final destiny of men depends. Everything rises or falls in its relation to Him. Could such words be uttered and there be no consciousness on the part of the speaker of a unique relationship to the Father and the things of eternity? Know you of anything bolder than this? _Fifth_, He calls upon men to sacrifice their tenderest affections for Him. He is to be chosen before even father and mother (Matt. 10:34-39). e) As Revealed in the Sermon on the Mount. Matt. 5-7; Luke 6:20-49. Two references will be sufficient here. Who is this that dares to set Himself up as superior to Moses and the law of Moses, by saying, "But _I_ say unto you"? Then, again, listen to Christ as He proclaims Himself to be the judge of all men at the last day (Matt. 7:21). Could Jesus say all this without having any consciousness of His unique relationship to all these things? Assuredly not. B. THE WORK OF JESUS CHRIST. The Death of Jesus Christ. I. ITS IMPORTANCE. 1. IT HAS A SUPREME PLACE IN THE CHRISTIAN RELIGION. Christianity is a religion of atonement distinctively. The elimination of the doctrine of the death of Christ from the religion that bears His name would mean the surrender of its uniqueness and claim to be the only true religion, the supreme and final revelation from God to the sons of men. It is its redemption feature that distinguishes Christianity from any and all other religions. If you surrender this distinctive Christian doctrine from its creed, then this supreme religion is brought down to the level of many other prevailing religious systems. Christianity is not merely a system of ethics; it is the history of redemption through Jesus Christ, the personal Redeemer. 2. ITS VITAL RELATION TO JESUS CHRIST. The atonement is so closely related to Jesus Christ, so allied to His work, as set forth in the Scriptures, that it is absolutely inseparable from it. Christ was not primarily a religious teacher, a philanthropist, an ethical example; He was all these, yea, and much more--He was first and foremost the world's Saviour and Redeemer. Other great men have been valued for their lives; He, above all, for His death, around which God and man are reconciled. The Cross is the magnet which sends the electric current through the telegraph between earth and heaven, and makes both Testaments thrill, through the ages of the past and future, with living, harmonious, and saving truth. Other men have said: "If I could only live, I would establish and perpetuate an empire." The Christ of Galilee said: "My death shall do it." Let us understand that the power of Christianity lies, not in hazy indefiniteness, not in shadowy forms, not so much even in definite truths and doctrines, but in _the_ truth, and in _the_ doctrine of Christ crucified and risen from the dead. Unless Christianity be more tnan ethical, it is not, nor can it really be ethical at all. It is redemptive, dynamic through that redemption, and ethical withal. 3. ITS RELATION TO THE INCARNATION. It is not putting the matter too strongly when we say that the incarnation was for the purpose of the atonement. At least this seems to be the testimony of the Scriptures. Jesus Christ partook of flesh and blood in order that He might die (Heb. 2:14). "He was manifested to take away our sins" (1 John 3:5). Christ came into this world to give His life a ransom for many (Matt. 20:28). The very purpose of the entire coming of Christ into the word, in all its varying aspects, was that, by assuming a nature like unto our own, He might offer up His life as a sacrifice for the sins of men. The faith of the atonement presupposes the faith of the incarnation. So close have been the relation of these two fundamental doctrines that their relation is one of the great questions which have divided men in their opinions in the matter: which is primary and which secondary; which is to be regarded as the most necessary to man's salvation, as the primary and the highest fact in the history of God's dealings with man. The atonement naturally arises out of the incarnation so that the Son of God could not appear in our nature without undertaking such a work as the word atonement denotes. The incarnation is a pledge and anticipation of the work of atonement. The incarnation is most certainly the declaration of a purpose on the part of God to save the world. But how was the world to be saved if not through the atonement? 4. ITS PROMINENCE IN THE SCRIPTURES. It was the claim of Jesus, in His conversation with the two disciples on the way to Emmaus, that Moses, and all the prophets, indeed, all the Scriptures, dealt with the subject of His death (Luke 24:27, 44). That the death of Christ was the one great subject into which the Old Testament prophets searched deeply is clear from 1 Pet. 1:11, 12. The atonement is the scarlet cord running through every page in the entire Bible. Cut the Bible anywhere, and it bleeds; it is red with redemption truth. It is said that one out of every forty-four verses in the New Testament deals with this theme, and that the death of Christ is mentioned in all one hundred and seventy-five times. When you add to these figures the typical and symbolical teaching of the Old Testament some idea is gained as to the important place which this doctrine occupies in the sacred Scriptures. 5. THE FUNDAMENTAL THEME OF THE GOSPEL. Paul says: "I delivered unto you first of all (i.e., first in order; the first plank in the Gospel platform; the truth of primary importance) . . . that Christ died for our sins" (1 Cor. 15:1-3). There can be no Gospel story, message or preaching without the story of the death of Christ as the Redeemer of men. 6. THE ONE GRAND THEME IN HEAVEN. Moses and Elias, the heavenly visitors to this earth, conversed about it (Luke 9:30, 31), even though Peter was ashamed of the same truth (Matt. 16:21-25). The theme of the song of the redeemed in heaven is that of Christ's death (Rev. 5:8-12). II. THE SCRIPTURAL DEFINITION OF THE DEATH OF CHRIST. The Scriptures set forth the death of Jesus Christ in a four-fold way: 1. AS A RANSOM. Matt. 20:28; 1 Pet. l;18; 1 Tim. 2:6; Gal. 3:13. The meaning of a ransom is clearly set forth in Lev. 25:47-49: To deliver a thing or person by paying a price; to buy back a person or thing by paying the price for which it is held in captivity. So sin is like a slave market in which sinners are "sold under sin" (Rom. 7:14); souls are under sentence of death (Ezek. 18:4). Christ, by His death, buys sinners out of the market, thereby indicating complete deliverance from the service of sin. He looses the bonds, sets the prisoners free, by paying a price--that price being His own precious blood. To whom this ransom is paid is a debatable question: whether to Satan for his captives, or to eternal and necessary holiness, to the divine law, to the claims of God who is by His nature the holy Lawgiver. The latter, referring to God and His holiness, is probably preferable. Christ redeemed us from the curse of a broken law by Himself being made a curse for us. His death was the ransom price paid for our deliverance. 2. A PROPITIATION. Rom. 3:25; 1 John 2:2; Heb. 2:17 (R. V.). Christ is the propitiation for our sins; He is set forth by God to be a propitiation through His blood. Propitiation means mercy-seat, or covering. The mercy-seat covering the ark of the covenant was called propitiation (Exod. 25:22; Heb. 9:5.) It is that by which God covers, overlooks, and pardons the penitent and believing sinner because of Christ's death. Propitiation furnishes a ground on the basis of which God could set forth His righteousness, and yet pardon sinful men, Rom. 3:25, 26; Heb. 9:15. Christ Himself is the propitiatory sacrifice, 1 John 2:2. The death of Jesus Christ is set forth as the ground on which a righteous God can pardon a guilty and sinful race without in any way compromising His righteousness. 3. AS A RECONCILIATION. Rom. 5:10; 2 Cor. 5:18, 19; Eph. 2:16; Col. 1:20. We are reconciled to God by the death of His Son, by His Cross, and by the blood of His Cross--that is the message of these scriptures. Reconciliation has two sides; active and passive. In the _active_ sense we may look upon Christ's death as removing the enmity existing between God and man, and which had hitherto been a barrier to fellowship (see the above quoted texts). This state of existing enmity is set forth in such scriptures as Rom. 8:7--"Because the carnal mind is enmity against God." Also Eph. 2:15; Jas. 4:4. In the _passive_ sense of the word it may indicate the change of attitude on the part of man toward God, this change being wrought in the heart of man by a vision of the Cross of Christ; a change from enmity to friendship thus taking place, cf. 2 Cor. 5:20. It is probably better to state the case thus: God is propitiated, and the sinner is reconciled (2 Cor. 5:18-20). 4. AS A SUBSTITUTION. Isa. 53:6; 1 Pet. 2:24, 3:18; 2 Cor. 5:21. The story of the passover lamb (Exod. 12), with 1 Cor. 5:7, illustrates the meaning of substitution as here used: one life given in the stead of another. "The Lord hath laid on him the iniquity of us all." God made Christ, who knew no sin, to be sin for us. Christ Himself bore our sins in His own body on the tree--this is substitution. Christ died in our place, bore our sins, paid the penalty due our sins; and all this, not by force, but willingly (John 10:17, 18). The idea of substitution is well illustrated by the nature of the preposition used in connection with this phase of Christ's death: In Matt. 80-28 Christ is said to give His life a ransom _for_ all (also 1 Tim. 2:6). That this preposition means _instead of_ is clear from its use in Matt. 2:22--"Archelaus did reign in the room (or in the stead) of his father, Herod." Also in Luke 11:11--"Will he _for_ a fish give him a serpent?" (See Heb. 12:2, 16.) Substitution, then, as used here means this: That something happened to Christ, and because it happened to Christ, it need not happen to us. Christ died for our sins; we need not die for them if we accept His sacrifice. For further illustrations, see Gen. 22:13; God providing a ram instead of Isaac; also Barabbas freed and Christ bearing his cross and taking his place. Upon a life I did not live; Upon a death I did not die; Upon another's death, another's life, I risk my soul eternally. III. UNSCRIPTURAL VIEWS OF CHRIST'S DEATH. There are certain so called _modern_ views of the atonement which it may be well to examine briefly, if only to show how unscriptural they are. That the modern mind fails to see in the doctrine of the atonement what the orthodox faith has held for centuries to be the truth of God regarding this fundamental Christian doctrine, there is certainly no doubt. To some minds today the death of Jesus Christ was but the death of a martyr, counted in the same category as the death of John Huss or Savonarola. Or perchance Christ's death was an exhibition to a sinful world of God's wondrous love. Or it may be that Christ, in His suffering of death, remains forever the sublime example of adherence to principles of righteousness and truth, even to the point of death. Or, again, Calvary may be an episode in God's government of the world. God, being holy, deemed it necessary to show to the world His hatred of sin, and so His wrath fell on Christ. The modern mind does not consider Christ's death as in any sense vicarious, or substitutionary. Indeed, it fails to see the justice as well as the need or possibility of one man, and He so innocent, suffering for the sins of the whole race--past, present and future. Every man must bear the penalty of his own sin, so we are told; from that there is no escape, unless, and it is fervently hoped and confidently expected, that God, whose wondrous love surpasses all human conception, should, as He doubtless will, overlook the eternal consequences of man's sin because of the great love wherewith He loves the race. The love of God is the hope of the race's redemption. What shall the Christian church say to these things, and what shall be her reply? To the Word of God must the church resort for her weapons in this warfare. If the so called modern mind and its doctrinal views agree with the Scriptures, then the Christian church may allow herself to be influenced by the spirit of the age. But if the modern mind and the Scriptures do not agree in their results, then the church of Christ must part company with the modern mind. Here are some of the modern theories of the atonement: 1. THE ACCIDENT THEORY. Briefly stated, this is the theory: The Cross was something unforeseen in the life of Christ. Calvary was not in the plan of God for His Son. Christ's death was an accident, as unforeseen and unexpected as the death of any other martyr was unforeseen and unexpected. To this we reply: Jesus was conscious all the time of His forthcoming death. He foretold it again and again. He was always conscious of the plots against His life. This truth is corroborated by the following scriptures: Matt. 16-21; Mark 9:30-32; Matt. 20:17-19; Luke 18:31-34; Matt, 20:28; 26:2, 6, 24, 39-42; Luke 22:19, 20. Further, in John 10:17, 18 we have words which distinctly contradict this false theory: "Therefore doth my Father love me, because I lay down my life, that I might take it again. No man taketh it from me, but I lay it down of myself. I have power to lay it down, and I have power to take it again. This commandment have I received of my Father." In addition to this we may make mention of the many, many references and prophecies of the Old Testament to the fact of Christ's death. Then there is Christ's own testimony to the fact of His death being predicted and foretold by the prophets (Luke 24:26, 27, 44). See also Isa. 53; Psa. 22; 69. 2. THE MARTYR THEORY. It is as follows: Christ's death was similar in kind to that of John Huss, or Polycarp, or any other noble man who has given up his life as a sacrifice for a principle and for truth. To this we reply: Then Christ should have so declared Himself. Paul should have said so. That word was used for other Christian deaths, why not for Christ's? Then there is no mystery about the atonement, and the wonder is that Paul should have said anything about the mystery. Further, if Christ died as a martyr He might, at least, have had the same comforting presence of God afforded other martyrs in the hour of their death. Why should He be God-forsaken in that crucial hour? Is it right that God should make the holiest man in all the ages the greatest sufferer, if that man were but a martyr? When you recall the shrinking of Gethsemane, could you really--and we say it reverently--call Jesus as brave a man facing death as many another martyr has been? Why should Christ's soul be filled with anguish (Luke 22:39-46), while Paul the Apostle was exultant with joy (Phil. 1:23)? Stephen died a martyr's death, but Paul never preached forgiveness through the death of Stephen. Such a view of Christ's death may beget martyrs, but it can never save sinners. 3. THE MORAL EXAMPLE THEORY. Christ's death has an influence upon mankind for moral improvement. The example of His suffering ought to soften human hearts, and help a man to reform, repent, and better his condition. So God grants pardon and forgiveness on simple repentance and reformation. In the same way a drunkard might call a man his saviour by whose influence he was induced to become sober and industrious. But did the sight of His suffering move the Jews to repentance? Does it move men today? Such a view of Christ's death does not deal with the question with which it is always connected, viz., the question of sin. 4. THE GOVERNMENTAL THEORY. This means that the benevolence of God requires that He should make an example of suffering in Christ in order to exhibit to man that sin is displeasing in His sight. God's government of the world necessitates that He show His wrath against sin. True, but we reply: Why do we need an incarnation for the manifestation of that purpose? Why not make a guilty, and not an absolutely innocent and guileless man such an example of God's displeasure upon sin? Were there not men enough in existence? Why create a new being for such a purpose? 5. THE LOVE OF GOD THEOEY. He died to show men how much God loved them. Men ever after would know the feeling of the heart of God toward them. True, the death of Christ did show the great love of God for fallen man. But men did not need such a sacrifice to know that God loved them. They knew that before Christ came. The Old Testament is full of the love of God. Read Psalm 103. The Scriptures which speak of God's love as being manifested in the gift of His Son, tell us also of another reason why He gave His Son: "That whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life" (John 3:16); "Herein is love, not that we loved God, but that he loved us, and sent his Son to be the propitiation for our sins" (1 John 4:10). We believe that Christ's Cross reveals the love of God, and that throughout all these ages men have been bowed in penitence as they have caught a vision of the One who hung thereon. But if you were to question the multitudes that have believed in God because of the Cross, you would find that what moved them to repentance was not merely, if at all, certainly not primarily, that the Cross revealed the love of God in a supreme way, but the fact that there at that Cross God had dealt with the great and awful fact of sin, that the Cross had forever removed it. "I examine all these views, beautiful as some of them are, appealing to the pride of man, but which leave out all thought of vicarious atonement, and say, 'But what shall be done with my sin? Who shall put it away? Where is its sacrifice? If without shedding of blood there is no remission of sin, where is the shed blood?' These views are neat, measurable, occasionally pathetic, and frequently beautiful, but they do not include the agony of the whole occasion and situation. They are aspect theories, partial conceptions. They do not take in the whole temple from its foundation to its roof. No man must set up his judgment against that of another man in a dogmatic way, but he may, yea, he must, allow his heart to speak through his judgment; and in view of this liberty, I venture to say that all these theories of the atonement are as nothing, most certainly shallow and incomplete to me . . . . As I speak now, at this very moment, I feel that the Christ on the Cross is doing something for me, that His death is my life, His atonement my pardon, His crucifixion the satisfaction for my sin, that from Calvary, that place of a skull, my flowers of peace and joy blossom forth, and that in the Cross of Christ I glory."--_Joseph Parker._ IV. THE NECESSITY OF CHRIST'S DEATH. The necessity of the atonement lay in a twofold fact: The holiness of God, and the sinfulness of man. The doctrine of the atonement is a related subject, and it cannot be properly understood unless it is viewed as such. It is related to certain conditions existing between God and man--a condition and relation which has been affected by sin. It is necessary, therefore, to know this relation and how it has been affected by sin. This relation between God and man is a personal one. No other construction can legitimately be put upon the passages setting forth this relationship. "_Thou_ has searched _me_, and known _me_." "_I_ am continually with _Thee_." It is, moreover, an ethical relationship, and that which is ethical is at the same time personal and universal, that is to say, that God's dealings with mankind are expressed in a moral constitution of universal and eternal validity. These relationships are disordered by sin. No matter how sin came to be here we are morally conscious, by the testimony of a bad conscience, that we are guilty, and that our sin is not merely a matter of personal guilt but a violation of a universal moral law. 1. THE HOLINESS OF GOD. We should carefully note the emphasis laid upon the doctrine of God's holiness in the Old Testament (see under Attributes of God, p. 37). The Levitical law, the laws of clean and unclean, the tabernacle and the temple with its outer court, its holy and most holy place, the priestly order and the high priest, the bounds set around Mt. Sinai, things and persons that might not be touched without causing defilement, sacred times and seasons, these, and much more, speak in unmistakable terms of the holiness of God. We are thus taught that if sinful man is to approach unto God, it must be through the blood of atonement. The holiness of God demands that before the sinner can approach unto and have communion with Him, some means of propitiation must be provided. This means of approach is set forth in the shed blood. 2. THE SIN OF MAN. Light and erroneous views of the atonement come from light and erroneous views of sin. If sin is regarded as merely an offence against man, a weakness of human nature, a mere disease, rather than as rebellion, transgression, and enmity against God, and therefore something condemning and punishable, we shall not, of course, see any necessity for the atonement. We must see sin as the Bible depicts it, as something which brings wrath, condemnation, and eternal ruin in its train. We must see it as guilt that needs expiation. We must see sin as God sees it before we can denounce it as God denounces it. We confess sin today in such light and easy terms that it has almost lost its terror. In view of these two thoughts, the holiness of God and the sinfulness of man, the question naturally arises: How is the mercy of God to be manifested so that His holiness will not be compromised by His assuming a merciful attitude towards sinful men in the granting of forgiveness, pardon, justification? The answer is: The only way in which this can be done is by means of the atonement. 3. THE FULFILLMENT OF THE SCRIPTURES. We may add this third thought to the two already mentioned. There is a sense in which the atonement was necessary in order to the fulfillment of the predictions of the Old Testament--predictions inseparable from the person and work of the Messiah. If Jesus Christ were the true Messiah, then these predictions regarding His sufferings and death must be fulfilled in Him (Luke 24:25-27, 44; Isa. 53; Psa. 22; 69). V. THE EXTENT OF CHRIST'S DEATH. Was the death of Jesus Christ for all mankind--for every human being in the world, or for man actually and ultimately regenerate only--the chosen Church? Was it for all mankind, irrespective of their relation to Jesus Christ, or must we limit the actual benefits of the atonement to those who are spiritually united to Christ by faith? That the death of Christ is intended to benefit all mankind seems clear from the following scriptures: Isa. 53:6; 1 Tim. 2:6; 1 John 2:2, cf. 2 Cor. 5:19; Rom. 14:15; 1 Cor. 8:11. The scriptures, which to some seem to limit the effects of the atonement, are John 10:15, cf. vv 26, 29; Eph. 5:25-27. Certain it is that the doctrine of the atonement is presented in the Scriptures as competent to procure and secure salvation for all. Indeed, not only competent but efficacious to do this very thing. It might seem that there is an apparent contradiction in the above-named scriptures. The atonement, in its actual issue, should realize and actualize the eternal purpose of God, the which is set forth as a desire that all men should be saved and come to a saving knowledge of the truth as it is in Jesus Christ. This is testified to be the general and universal invitation of the Scriptures to partake of the blessings of Christ's death. Thus the offer of the Gospel to all is not a pretence but a reality on the part of God. The divine willingness that all men should share the benefits of the atonement is all-inclusive, and really means what is offered. Yet on the other hand, we can not overlook the fact that, from another point of view the effects of the atonement--shall we say the _purpose_ of the atonement?--seems to be limited to the sphere of the the true Church, so that only those who are really united to Christ by faith actually share in the merits of the atonement. Let us put it this way: "The atonement is _sufficient_ for all; it is _efficient_ for those who believe in Christ." The atonement itself, so far as it lays the basis for the redemptive dealing of God with all men, is _unlimited_; the _application_ of the atonement is limited to those who actually believe in Christ. He is the Saviour of all men _potentially_ (1 Tim. 1:15); of believers alone _effectually_ (1 Tim. 4:10). The atonement is limited only by men's unbelief. 1. FOR THE WHOLE WORLD. The Scriptures set forth this fact in the following statements: "And he is the propitiation for our sins: and not for ours only, but also for the sins of the whole world" (1 John 2:2). Christ's death was the ground on which God, who is absolutely holy, could deal with the whole race of men in mercy, and pardon their sins. John 1:29--"Behold the Lamb of God, which taketh away the sin of the world." Not the sin of a few individuals, or of an elect race, like Israel, but the sin of the whole world. This was a striking truth to reveal to a Jew. 1 Tim. 2:6--"Who gave himself a ransom for all, to be testified in due time." It is for this reason, as the context of this passage shows, that we may pray for all men. If all men were not capable of being saved, how then could we pray to that end? 2. FOR EACH INDIVIDUAL MAN. This is but a detailed statement of the fact that He died for the whole world. Not a single individual man, woman, or child is excluded from the blessings offered in the atonement. Heb. 2:9--"But we see Jesus, who was made a little lower than the angels for the suffering of death, crowned with glory and honor; that he by the grace of God should taste death for every man." Leo the Great (461) affirmed that "So precious is the shedding of Christ's blood for the unjust, that if the whole universe of captives would believe in the Redeemer, no chain of the devil could hold them." General Booth once said: "Friends, Jesus shed His precious blood to pay the price of salvation, and bought from God enough salvation to go around." 3. FOR THE SINFUL, UNJUST, AND UNGODLY. Sinners of all sorts, degrees, and conditions may have a share in the redemptive work of Christ. Greece invited only the cultured, Rome sought only the strong, Judea bid for the religious only. Jesus Christ bids all those that are weary and heavy-hearted and over-burdened to come to Him (Matt. 11:28). Rom. 5:6-10--"Christ died for the ungodly...While we were yet sinners, Christ died for us...When we were enemies, we were reconciled to God by the death of His Son." 1 Pet. 3:18--"For Christ also hath once suffered for sins, the just for the unjust." Christ died for _sinners_--those in open opposition to God; for the _unjust_--those who openly violate God's laws; for the _ungodly_--those who violently and brazenly refuse to pay their dues of prayer, worship, and service to God; for _enemies_ --those who are constantly fighting God and His cause. For all of these Christ died. 1 Tim. 1:15--"Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners; of whom I am chief." Paul was a _blasphemer_, a _persecutor_, _injurious_ (v. 13), a _murderer_ (Acts 22 and 26), yet God saved him; he was included in the atonement. Note also that it is in this very connection that the apostle declares that the reason God saved him was in order that his salvation might be a pattern, or an encouragement to other great sinners, that God could and would save them, if they desired Him to do so. 4. FOR THE CHURCH. There is a peculiar sense in which it may be said that Christ's death is for the Church, His body, the company of those who believe in Him. There is a sense in which it is perfectly true that Christ's death avails only for those who believe in Him; so in that sense it can be said that He died for the Church more particularly. He is "the Saviour of all men, specially of those that believe" (1 Tim. 4:10). Herein lies the truth that is contained in the theory of a limited atonement. Eph. 5:25-27--"Christ also loved the church, and gave himself for it." Not for any one particular denomination; not for any one organization within any four walls; but for all those whom He calls to Himself and who follow Him here. Gal. 2:20--"The Son of God, who loved me, and gave himself for me." Here the individual member of the Church, the body of Christ, is specifically mentioned as being included in the efficacy of the atonement. When Luther first realized this particular phase of the atonement, he was found sobbing beneath a crucifix, and moaning: "Mein Gott, Mein Gott, Fur Mich! Fur Mich!" 1 Cor. 8:11--"And through thy knowledge shall the weak brother perish, for whom Christ died?" Also Rom. 14:15. Note the connection in which this truth is taught. If Christ was willing to die for the weak brother--whom we, perchance, sneer at for his conscientious scruples--we ought to be willing to deny ourselves of some habit for his sake. How all-inclusive, all-comprehensive, far-reaching is the death of Christ in its effects! Not a few, but many shall be saved. He gave his life a ransom for _many_. God's purposes in the atonement shall not be frustrated. Christ shall see of the travail of His soul, and shall be satisfied. Many shall come from the north, the south, the east and the west and sit down in the kingdom. In that great day it will be seen (Rev. 7:9-15). VI. THE EFFECTS OF CHRIST'S DEATH. 1. IN RELATION TO THE PHYSICAL OR MATERIAL UNIVERSE. Just as the material universe was in some mysterious manner affected by the fall of man (Rom. 8:19-23, R. V.), so also is it affected by the death of Jesus Christ, which is intended to neutralize the effect of sin upon the creation. There is a cosmical effect in the atonement. The Christ of Paid is larger than the second Adam--the Head of a new humanity; He is also the center of a universe which revolves around Him, and is in some mysterious way reconciled by His death. Just how this takes place we may not be able definitely to explain. Col. 1:20--"And, having made peace through the blood of his cross, by him to reconcile all things unto himself; by him, I say, whether they be things in earth, or things in heaven." Some day there shall be a new heaven and a new earth, wherein dwelleth righteousness (2 Pet. 3:13). See also Heb. 9:23, 24; Isa. 11 and 35. 2. IN RELATION TO THE WORLD OF MEN. a) The Enmity Existing Between God and Man is Removed: Rom. 5:10; Col. 1:20-22. For explanation, see under Scriptural Definition of the Atonement ((II.3, p. 72). The ground of enmity between God and man--whether in the active or passive sense of _reconciliation_--is removed by Christ's death. The world of mankind is, through the atonement, reconciled to God. b) A Propitiation for the World's Sin Has Been Provided: 1 John 2:2; 4:10. See under Propitiation (II. 2, p. 71). The propitiation reaches as far as does the sin. c) Satan's Power Over the Race Has Been Neutralized: John 12:31, 32--"Now is the judgment of this world: now shall the prince of this world be cast out. And I, if I be lifted up from the earth, will draw all men unto me." Also John 16:9, 10; Col. 2:10. The lifting up of Christ on the Cross meant the casting down of Satan. Satan no longer holds undisputed sway over the sons of men. The power of darkness has been broken. Man need no longer be the slave of sin and Satan. d) The Question of the World's Sin is Settled: It need no longer stand as a barrier between God and man. Strictly speaking, it is not now so much of a _sin_ question as it is a _Son_ question; not, What shall be done with my sin? but, What shall I do with Jesus, which is called Christ? The sins of the Old Testament saints, which during all the centuries had been held, as it were, in abeyance, were put away at the Cross (Rom. 3:25, 26). Sins present and future were also dealt with at the Cross. By the sacrifice of Himself, Christ forever put away sin (Heb. 9:26). e) The Claims of a Broken Law Have Been Met, and the Curse Resting upon Man Because of a Broken Law Removed. Col. 2:14--"Blotting out the handwriting of ordinances that was against us, which was contrary to us, and took it out of the way, nailing it to his cross." Thus every claim of the holy law of God, which sinful man had violated, had been met. Gal. 3:13--"Christ hath redeemed us from the curse of the law, being made a curse for us: for it is written, Cursed is every one that hangeth on a tree." (See v. 10 for the description of the curse.) The wages of sin, and the curse of sin, is death. Christ by His death on the Cross, paid that debt, and removed that curse. f) Justification, Adoption, Sanctification, Access to God, an Inheritance, and the Removal of All Fear of Death--All This is Included in the Effect of the Death of Christ in the Behalf of the Believer. Rom. 5:9; Gal. 4:3-5; Heb. 10:10; 10:19, 20; 9:15; 2:14, 15. How comforting, how strengthening, how inspiring are these wonderful aspects of the effects of the death of our Lord and Saviour, Jesus Christ! 3. THE EFFECT OF CHRIST'S DEATH ON SATAN. See under c) above. The devil must submit to the victory of Christ. The dominion of Satan, so far as the believer in Christ is concerned, is now at an end: his dominion over the disobedient sons of men, too, will soon be at an end. Christ's death was the pronouncement of Satan's doom; it was the loss of his power over men. The power of the devil, while not yet absolutely destroyed, has been neutralized (Heb. 2:14). The evil principalities and powers, and Satan himself, did their worst at the Cross, but there they received their deathblow (Col. 2:14, 15). THE RESURRECTION OF JESUS CHRIST. I. ITS IMPORTANT PLACE IN THE CHRISTIAN RELIGION. 1. IT HOLDS A UNIQUE PLACE IN CHRISTIANITY. Christianity is the only religion that bases its claim to acceptance upon the resurrection of its founder. For any other religion to base its claim on such a doctrine would be to court failure. Test all other religions by this claim and see. 2. IT IS FUNDAMENTAL TO CHRISTIANITY. In that wonderful chapter on the resurrection (1 Cor. 15) Paul makes Christianity answer with its life for the literal truth of the resurrection of Jesus Christ. That the body of the founder of the Christian religion did not lie in the grave after the third day is fundamental to the existence of the religion of Christ: "And if Christ be not risen, then is our preaching vain, and your faith is also vain" (v. 14). "If Christ be not raised . . . ye are yet in your sins" (v. 17). "Then they also which are fallen asleep in Christ are perished" (v.18). Remove the resurrection from Paul's Gospel, and his message is gone. The resurrection of Jesus Christ is not an appendage to Paul's Gospel; it is a constitutive part of it. The importance of this doctrine is very evident from the prominent part it played in the preaching of the Apostles: Peter--Acts 2:24, 32; 3:15; 4:10; 5:30; 10:40; 1 Peter 1:21, 23. Paul--Acts 13:30, 34; 17:31; 1 Cor. 15; Phil. 3:21. It was belief in such preaching that led to the establishment of the Christian church. Belief in the resurrection of Christ was the faith of the early church (Acts 4:33). The testimony to this great fact of Christian faith was borne in the midst of the fiercest opposition. Nor was it controverted, although the grave was well known and could have been pointed out. It was in this fact that Christianity acquired a firm basis for its historical development. There was not only an "Easter Message," there was also an "Easter Faith." Our Lord's honor was, in a sense, staked upon the fact of His resurrection. So important did He regard it that He remained forty days upon the earth after His resurrection, giving many infallible proofs of the great fact. He appealed to it again and again as evidence of the truth of His claims: Matt. 12:39, 40; John 2:20-22. Both the friends and the enemies of Christianity admit that the resurrection of Jesus Christ is vital to the religion that bears His name. The Christian confidently appeals to it as an incontrovertible fact; the sceptic denies it altogether as a historical reality. "If the resurrection really took place," says an assailant of it, "then Christianity must be admitted to be what it claims to be--a direct revelation from God." "If Christ be not risen," says the Apostle Paul, "then is our preaching vain, and your faith is also vain." The one tries all he can to do away with the proofs submitted for the accepted fact; the other plainly says that if the resurrection cannot be believed, then Christianity is nothing but a sham. If the resurrection of Christ can be successfully denied, if it can be proven to be absolutely untrue, then the whole fabric of the Gospel falls to pieces, the whole structure of the Christian religion is shaken at its foundation, and the very arch of Christianity crumbles into dust. Then it has wrought only imaginary changes, deluded its most faithful adherents, deceived and disappointed the hopes of its most devoted disciples, and the finest moral achievements that adorn the pages of the history of the Christian church have been based upon a falsehood. Nor must we ignore the prominent place the resurrection of Jesus Christ occupies in the Scriptures. More than one hundred times is it spoken of in the New Testament alone. II. THE NATURE OF THE RESURRECTION OF JESUS CHRIST. 1. JESUS CHRIST ACTUALLY DIED. Some who disbelieve in the resurrection of Christ assert that Jesus merely swooned, and that pitying hands took Him down from the cross, thinking that He had died. The cool air of the tomb in which He was placed revived Him, so that He came forth from the tomb as though He had really risen from the dead. The disciples believed that He had really died and risen again. This theory is false for the following reasons: Jesus Christ appeared to the disciples after the third day, not as a weak, suffering, half-dead man, but as a conquering, triumphant victor over death and the grave. He never could have made the impression upon the disciples that He did, if He had presented the picture of a sick, half-dead man. From John 19:33-37 we learn that when the soldiers pierced the side of Christ, _there came forth blood and water_. Physiologists and physicists agree that such a condition of the vital organs, including the heart itself, precludes the idea of a mere swoon, and proves conclusively that death had taken place. Joseph of Arimathaea asked permission to bury the body of Jesus because he knew that Jesus had been pronounced dead (Matt. 27:57, 58). When the news was brought to Pilate that Christ had died, it is said that "Pilate marvelled if he were already dead: and calling unto him the centurion, he asked him whether he had been any while dead. And when he knew it of the centurion, he gave the body to Joseph" (Mark 15:44, 45). The women brought spices to anoint a dead body, not a half-dead Christ (Mark 16:1). The soldiers pronounced Him dead: "But when they came to Jesus, and saw that he was dead already, they brake not his legs" (John 19:33). Jesus Christ Himself, He who is the Truth, testifies to the fact that He had really died: Rev. 1:18--"I am he that liveth, and was dead." 2. THE FACT THAT CHRIST'S BODY WAS ACTUALLY RAISED FROM THE DEAD. The resurrection of Christ is not a spiritual resurrection, nor were his appearances to the disciples spiritual manifestations. He appeared to His disciples in a bodily form. The body that was laid in Joseph's tomb came forth on that first Easter morn twenty centuries ago. Some maintain that it is not vital to belief in the resurrection of Christ that we insist on a literal resurrection of the body of Jesus; all that we need to insist on is that Christ was ever afterwards known to be the victor over death, and that He had the power of an endless life. So it comes to pass that we have what is called an "Easter Message," as contrasted with an "Easter Faith" which believes in the literal resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead. "Faith has by no means to do with the knowledge of the form in which Jesus lives, but only with the conviction that He is the living Lord."--_Harnack_ in _What is Christianity?_ According to this theory, belief in Christ's resurrection means nothing more than belief in the survival of the soul of Jesus--that somehow or other Jesus was alive, and lived with God, while His body yet saw corruption in the grave. We reply: This cannot be, for all the facts in the Gospel narratives contradict such a theory. Let us examine these narratives. a) We are Confronted by the Fact of an Empty Tomb. Matt. 28:6; Mark 16:6; Luke 24:3, 12; John 20:1, 2. The fact that the tomb was empty is testified to by competent witnesses --both friends and enemies: by the women, the disciples, the angels, and the Roman guards. How shall we account for the absence of the body of Jesus from the tomb? That it had not been stolen by outside parties is evident from the testimony of the soldiers who were bribed to tell that story (Matt. 28:11-15). Such a guard never would have allowed such a thing to take place. Their lives would have been thereby jeopardized. And if they were asleep (v. 13), how could they know what took place? Their testimony under such circumstances would be useless. The condition in which the linen cloths were found lying by those who entered the tomb precludes the possibility of the body being stolen. Had such been the case the cloths would have been taken with the body, and not left in perfect order, thereby showing that the body had gone out of them. Burglars do not leave things in such perfect order. There is no order in haste. Then again, we have the testimony of angels to the fact that Jesus had really risen as foretold (Matt. 28:6; Mark 16:6). The testimony of angels is surely trustworthy (Heb. 2:2). b) There are Other Resurrections Mentioned in the Gospel Records which were Undoubtedly Bodily Resurrections. Matt. 9:18-26; Luke 7:11-18; John 11:1-44. These incidents throw light upon the resurrection of Jesus. Why did the officers say that they were afraid "that his disciples should come by night and steal him away" if they did not refer to the _body_ of Jesus? They surely could not steal His soul. c) Those Who Saw Him After the Resurrection Recognized Him as Having the Same Body as He Had Before, Even to the Wound Prints. John 20:27; Luke 24:37-39. It is true that there were occasions on which He was not recognizable by the disciples, but such occasions were the result of the eyes of the disciples being holden in order that they might not know him. There was divine intervention on these occasions. Does Christ still retain the prints of the nails? Is He still the Lamb as though it had been slain? (Rev. 5 and 6). d) There Can Be No Doubt of the Fact that the Apostle Paul Believed in the Bodily Resurrection of Christ. The Corinthians, to whom the apostle wrote that wonderful treatise on the resurrection (1 Cor. 15), were not spending their time denying a _spiritual_ resurrection; nor was the apostle spending his time trying to produce convincing arguments for a _spiritual_ resurrection. (See also Rom. 8:11.) e) It is Clear also from Christ's Own Testimony Before and After the Resurrection. Matt. 17:23; Luke 24:39; Rev. 1:18. No other construction can legitimately be put upon these words than that Christ here refers to the resurrection of His body. f) The Apostolic Testimony Corroborates this Fact. Acts 2:24-32; 1 Pet. 1:3, 21; 3:21. Peter was at the tomb; he it was who stepped inside and saw the linen cloths lying. His testimony ought to be beyond question as to the fact at issue. g) The Record of the Appearances of Christ Prove a Literal, Physical Resurrection. Matt. 28:9, 10; John 20:14-18, cf. Mark 16:9; Luke 24:13-32; John 21, etc. All these appearances bear witness to the fact that it was not an incorporeal spirit or phantom, but a real, bodily Christ that they saw. He could be seen, touched, handled; He was recognizable; He ate and drank in their presence. h) Lastly, Many Passages in the Scriptures Would Be Unintelligible Except on the Ground of a Bodily Resurrection of Jesus Christ from the Grave. Rom. 8:11, 23; Eph. 1:19, 20; Phil. 3:20, 21; 1 Thess. 4:13-17. 3. THE NATURE OF THE RESURRECTION BODY OF CHRIST. a) It was a Real Body; not a Ghost, nor a Phantom. That the resurrection body of Jesus was not a phantom, but a body composed of "flesh and bones" is evident from Luke 24:36-43. It could be "touched" (John 20:20), and bore the marks of His passion (John 20:24-29). The likeness to His earthly body was not wholly parted with. [NOTE: Does this throw any light on the matter of recognition in heaven? Has Jesus Christ still this body in the glory? Shall we know Him by the prints?] b) Yet the Body of Jesus was more than a mere Natural Body. It bore marks and possessed attributes which proclaimed a relation to the celestial or supra-terrestrial sphere. For example: It could pass through barred doors (John 20:19), thus transcending physical limitations. It was not recognizable at times (Luke 24: 13-16; John 20:14, 15; 21:4, 12; Mark 16:12). This fact may be accounted for in two ways: First, supernaturally--their eyes were holden; Second, that in that risen life the spiritual controls the material rather than as here, the material the spiritual; so that the spirit could change the outward form of the body at will and at any given time. [Yet, note how Jesus had power to make Himself known by little acts, such as the breaking of the bread, and the tone of His voice. Do we carry these little characteristics into the other life? Shall we know our loved ones by these things?] Then again, Jesus was able to vanish out of sight of His friends (Luke 24:31; John 20:19, 26; Luke 24:51; Acts 1:9). And so He could be in different places at very short intervals of time. Can we explain these facts? No, not fully. Yet we must not be so material as to totally disbelieve them. "Daily, indeed, are men being forced to recognize that the world holds more mysteries than they formerly imagined it to do. Probably physicists are not so sure of the impenetrability of matter, or even of the conservation of energy, as they once were; and newer speculations on the etheric basis of matter, and on the relation of the seen to the unseen universe (or universes) with forces and laws largely unknown, open up vistas of possibility which may hold in them the key to phenomena even as extraordinary as those in question."--_James Orr_. c) Christ's Resurrection Body was Immortal. Not only is it true that Christ's body has not seen death since His resurrection, but it cannot die again. Rom. 6:9, 10; Rev. 1:18, cf. Luke 20:36. [The lesson for us from this: Christ is the first-fruits (1 Cor. 15:20).] III. THE CREDIBILITY OF THE RESURRECTION OF CHRIST. Credibility refers to the acceptance of a fact in a manner that deserves belief; it is belief based upon good authority, reliable facts, and competent witnesses. Credulity is belief in a thing without respect to the strength or weakness, reliability or unreliability of the authority, facts, or witnesses; it is a believing too readily, and with no reason for the faith or hope. The resurrection of Christ is a fact proven by competent evidence, and deserving of intelligent acceptance and belief. It is a doctrine buttressed by "many infallible proofs." The lines of proof for the credibility of Christ's resurrection which may be followed in harmony with our purpose are as follows: 1. THE ARGUMENT FROM CAUSE AND EFFECT. Certain things, conditions, institutions exist in our midst today; they are effects of causes, or a cause; what is that cause? Among these we may mention-- a) The Empty Tomb. That was an effect; what was its cause? How did that grave become empty? (See under II. a), p. 87). The fact of an empty tomb must be accounted for. How do we account for it? Renan, the French sceptic, wittingly said, and yet how truly: "You Christians live on the fragrance of an empty tomb." b) The Lord's Day. The Lord's Day is not the original Sabbath. Who dared change it? For what reason, and on what ground was it changed? Ponder the tenacity with which the Jews held on to their Sabbath given in Eden, and buttressed amid the thunders of Sinai. Recall how Jews would sooner die than fight on the Sabbath day (cf. Titus' invasion of Jerusalem on the Sabbath). The Jews never celebrated the birthdays of great men; they celebrated events, like the Passover. Yet, in the New Testament times we find Jews changing their time-honored seventh day to the first day of the week, and, contrary to all precedent, calling that day after a man--the Lord's Day. Here is an effect, a tremendous effect; what was its cause? We cannot have an effect without a cause. The resurrection of our Lord was the cause for this great change in the day of worship. c) The Christian Church. We know what a grand and noble institution the Christian church is. What would this world be without it? Its hymns, worship, philanthropy, ministrations of mercy are all known to us. Where did this institution come from? It is an effect, a glorious effect; what is its cause? When the risen Christ appeared unto the discouraged disciples and revived their faith and hope, they went forth, under the all-conquering faith in a risen and ascended Lord, and preached the story of His life, death, resurrection, ascension, and coming again. Men believed these teachings; gathered themselves together to study the Scriptures, to pray, to worship Christ, and to extend His kingdom among men. This is how the church came into existence. Its cause was the resurrection of Christ. d) The New Testament. If Jesus Christ had remained buried in the grave, the story of His life and death would have remained buried with Him. The New Testament is an effect of Christ's resurrection. It was the resurrection that put heart into the disciples to go forth and tell its story. Sceptics would have us believe that the resurrection of Christ was an afterthought of the disciples to give the story of Christ's life a thrilling climax, a decorative incident which satisfies the dramatic feeling in man, a brilliant picture at the end of an heroic life. We reply: There would have been no beautiful story to put a climax to if there had been no resurrection of the Christ of the story. The resurrection does not grow out of the beautiful story of His life, but the beautiful story of Christ's life grew out of the fact of the resurrection. The New Testament is the book of the resurrection. 2. THE ARGUMENT FROM TESTIMONY. a) As to the Number of the Witnesses. The resurrection of Christ as a historical fact is verified by a sufficient number of witnesses: over five hundred (1 Cor. 15:3-9). In our courts, one witness is enough to establish murder; two, high treason; three, the execution of a will; seven, an oral will. Seven is the greatest number required under our law. Christ's resurrection had five hundred and fourteen. Is not this a sufficient number? b) As to the Character of the Witnesses. The value of the testimony of a witness depends much upon his character; if that is impeached, then the testimony is discounted. Scrutinize carefully the character of the men who bore witness to the fact of Christ's resurrection. Impeach them if you can. They are unassailable on ethical grounds. "No honorable opponent of the Gospel has ever denied this fact. Their moral greatness awakened an Augustine, a Francis of Assisi, and a Luther. They have been the unrivalled pattern of all mature and moral manhood for nearly two thousand years." In law much is made of the question of _motive_. What motive could the apostles have had in perpetrating the story of Christ's resurrection upon people? Every one of them (except one) died a martyr's death for his loyalty to the story of Christ's resurrection. What had they to gain by fraud? Would they have sacrificed their lives for what they themselves believed to be an imposture? Nor are we to slight the testimony to Christ's resurrection that comes to us from sources other than that of the inspired writers of the New Testament. Ignatius, a Christian, and a contemporary of Christ, a martyr for his faith in Christ, in his _Letter to the Philadelphians_, says: "Christ truly suffered, as He also truly raised up Himself. I _know_ that after the resurrection He was in the flesh, and I believe Him to be so still. And when He came to those who were with Peter, He said to them, 'Take, handle me, and see that I am not an incorporeal phantom!'" Tertullian, in his _Apolegeticus_, says: "The fame of our Lord's remarkable resurrection and ascension being now spread abroad, Pontius Pilate, according to an ancient custom of communicating novel occurrences to the emperor, that nothing might escape him, transmitted to Tiberius, Emperor of Rome, an account of the resurrection of our Lord from the dead...Tiberius referred the whole matter to the Senate, who, being unacquainted with the facts, rejected it." The integrity of this passage is unquestioned by even the most sceptical critics. Alleged Discrepancies. [Footnote: The following extract from Dr. Orr's book, _The Resurrection of Jesus_, will throw some light on the matter of differences in testimony, while maintaining the credibility of the fact itself. "An instructive example is furnished in a recent issue of the _Bibliotheca Sacra_. A class in history was studying the French Revolution, and the pupils were asked to look the matter up, and report next day by what vote Louis XVI was condemned. Nearly half the class reported that the vote was unanimous. A considerable number protested that he was condemned by a majority of one. A few gave the majority as 145 in a vote of 721. How utterly irreconcilable these reports seemed! Yet for each the authority of reputable historians could be given. In fact, all were true, and the full truth was a combination of all three. On the first vote as to the king's guilt there was no contrary voice. Some tell only of this. The vote on the penalty was given individually, with reasons, and a majority of 145 declared for the death penalty, at once or after peace was made with Austria, or after confirmation by the people. The votes for immediate death were only 361 as against 360. History abounds with similar illustrations. As an example of another kind, reference may be made to Rev. R. J. Campbell's volume of _Sermons Addressed to Individuals_, where, on pp. 145-6 and pp. 181-2, the same story of a Brighton man is told with affecting dramatic details. The story is no doubt true in substance; but for 'discrepancies'--let the reader compare them, and never speak more (or Mr. Campbell either) of the Gospels!"] The seeming differences in the testimony of the witnesses to the resurrection may be largely, if not altogether reconciled by a correct knowledge of the manner and order of the _appearances_ of Christ after His resurrection. The following order of appearances may help in the understanding of the testimony to the resurrection: 1. The women at the grave see the vision of angels. 2. The women separate at the grave to make known the news --Mary Magdalene going to tell Peter and John, who doubtless lived close by (for it seems that they reached the grave in a single run). The other women go to tell the other disciples who, probably, were at Bethany. 3. Peter and John, hearing the news, run to the grave, leaving Mary. They then return home. 4. Mary follows; lingers at the grave; gets vision of the Master, and command to go tell the disciples. 5. The other women see Christ on the way. 6. Christ appears to the two on the way to Emmaus. 7. To Simon Peter. 8. To the ten apostles, and other friends. 9. To the apostles at Tiberias. 10. To the apostles and multitude on the mount. 11. To the disciples and friends at the ascension. 12. To James (1 Cor. 15:7). 13. To Paul (1 Cor. 15:8). IV. THE RESULTS OF THE RESURRECTION OF JESUS CHRIST. 1. AS TO JESUS CHRIST HIMSELF. Rom. 1:4--"And declared to be the Son of God with power, according to the spirit of holiness, by the resurrection from the dead." To "declare" means to mark off, to define, to set apart (Acts 10:42; Heb. 4:7). NOTE: Christ was not _made_ the Son of God by the resurrection, but _declared_ such. Had Christ remained in the grave as other men had done, there would then have been no reasonable ground to impose faith in Him. The empty tomb testifies to the deity of Christ. Matt. 18:38-42; John 2:13-22. In these scriptures Jesus Christ bases His authority for His teaching and the truth of all His claims on His resurrection from the dead. (Cf. under I. 2, in this chapter, p. 84.) See also Matt. 28:6--"Risen, as he said." 2. AS TO THE BELIEVER IN JESUS CHRIST. a) Assures Him of His Acceptance with God. Rom. 4:25--"Who was delivered for our offences, and was raised again for our justification." So long as Christ lay in the grave there was no assurance that His redemptive work had been acceptable to God. The fact that God raised Jesus from the dead was evidence that the Father was satisfied with the sacrifice Christ had made for the sins of men. "Of righteousness, because I go unto my Father" (John 16:10). Believing sinners may now rest satisfied that in Him they are justified. This thought is illustrated by the picture of the Jews waiting outside the temple for the coming out of the high priest (Luke 1:21), thereby indicating that their sacrifice had been accepted. b) Assures of Him an Interceding High Priest in the Heavens. Rom. 8:34--"Who is he that condemneth? It is Christ that died, yea rather, that is risen again, who is even at the right hand of God, who also maketh intercession for us." Also Heb. 7:25. Salvation was not completed at the Cross; there is still need of daily forgiveness, and so of the continual presenting of the shed blood before the mercy-seat. The accusations of Satan still need to be answered (Zec. 3:1-5; Job 1 and 2; Heb. 7:25). We need a Moses, not only to deliver us from bondage, but also to plead for us and intercede for us because of our sins committed in the wilderness journey. Herein is our assurance of forgiveness of sins committed after conversion--that our great High Priest is always heard (John 11:42), and that He prays constantly for us that our faith fail not (Luke 22:32). Our temporary falls shall not condemn us, for our Priest intercedes for us. c) Assures Him of All Needed Power for Life and Service. Eph. 1:19-22--"The exceeding greatness of his power . . . which he wrought in Christ, when he raised him from the dead, and set him at his own right hand in the heavenly places, far above all principality, and power, and might, . . . and gave him to be the head over all things to the church." Also Phil. 3:10. There are two standards in the Bible by which God's power is gauged: In the Old Testament, when God would have His people know the extent of His power, it is according to the power by which He brought Israel out of Egypt (Micah 7:15); in the New Testament, the unit of measurement of God's power is "According to the working of his mighty power, which he wrought in Christ . . . when he raised him from the dead." The connection of Phil. 3:10 gives the believer the promise and assurance not only of present power and victory, but also of future glorification. If we desire to know what God is able to do for and through us we are invited to look at the resurrection of Jesus Christ. d) The Assurance of His Own Resurrection and Immortality. 1 Thess. 4:14--"For if we believe that Jesus died and rose again, even so them also which sleep in Jesus will God bring with him." 2 Cor. 4:14--"Knowing that he which raised up the Lord Jesus shall raise up us also by Jesus, and shall present us with you." John 14:19--"Because I live, ye shall live also." 3. AS TO THE WORLD. a) The Certainty of a Resurrection. 1 Cor. 15:22--"As in Adam all die; even so in Christ shall all be made alive." Paul is here discussing a _bodily,_ and not a _spiritual_, resurrection (see under II. 2 d), p. 88). As in Adam all men die physically, so in Christ all men are raised physically. The resurrection of Jesus Christ guarantees the resurrection of all men (see under Resurrection, p. 245). b) The Certainty of a Judgment Day. Acts 17:31--"Because he hath appointed a day, in the which he will judge the world in righteousness by that man whom he hath ordained; whereof he hath given assurance unto all men, in that he hath raised him from the dead." The resurrection of Christ is God's unfailing testimony to the fact of a coming day of judgment for the world. The one is as sure as the other. The Ascension and Exaltation of Jesus Christ. I. THE MEANING OF THESE TERMS. When we speak of the _Ascension_ of Christ we refer to that event in the life of our risen Lord in which He departed visibly from His disciples into heaven. This event is recorded in Acts 1:9-11--"This same Jesus which is taken up from you into heaven," etc. By the _Exaltation_ of Jesus Christ we mean that act of God by which the risen and ascended Christ is given the place of power at the right hand of God. Phil. 2:9--"Wherefore God also hath highly exalted him and given him a name which is above every name." Eph. 1:20, 21--"Which he (God) wrought in Christ, when he raised him from the dead, and set him at his own right hand in the heavenly places, far above all principality and power." See also Heb. 1:3. II. THE SCRIPTURAL DATA FOR THE DOCTRINE. Foregleams of this truth were granted to the prophets of the Old Testament times, Psa. 110:1; 68:18. They saw Christ in prophetic vision not only as the meek and lowly One, but as the ascended and glorified Lord. Our Lord Himself, on many occasions, foretold His ascension and exaltation. These events were constantly before His mind's eye: Luke 9:51; John 6:62; 20:17. The New Testament writers record the event: Mark 16:19; Luke 24:51; John 3:13; Acts 1:9-11; Eph. 4:8-10; Heb. 10:12. Stephen, in his dying moments, was granted a vision of the exalted Christ. He saw the "Son of Man standing on the right hand of God" (Acts 7:55, 36). The apostles taught and preached these great truths: Peter, Acts 2:33, 34; 5:31; 1 Peter 3:22. Paul: Eph. 4:8-10; Heb. 4:14; 1 Tim. 3:16. III. THE NECESSITY OF THE ASCENSION AND EXALTATION OF JESUS CHRIST. The nature of the resurrection body of our Lord necessitated His ascension and exaltation. Such a body could not be subject to ordinary laws; it could not permanently abide here. Christ's unique personality also required such an exit from the world. Should not the exit of Christ from this world be as unique as His entrance into it? Then, again, consider the sinlessness of His life. If a miraculous exit was granted to men like Elijah and Enoch, who were sinful men, why should we marvel if such was granted to Christ? Indeed it seems perfectly natural, and quite in keeping with His whole life that just such an event as the ascension and exaltation should form a fitting finish to such a wonderful career. The ascension and exaltation were necessary to complete the redemptive work of Christ. His work was not finished when He arose from the dead. He had not yet presented the blood of the atonement in the presence of the Father; nor had He yet been given His place at the right hand of the Father as the bestower of all spiritual gifts, and especially the gift of the Holy Spirit. The apostles were thus able to furnish to an unbelieving and inquisitive world a satisfactory account of the disappearance of the body of Christ which had been placed in the tomb, and which they claimed to have seen after the resurrection. "Where is your Christ?" the scoffing world might ask. "We saw Him ascend up into the heaven, and He is now at the Father's right hand," the apostles could reply. It was further necessary in order that Christ might become an ideal object of worship for the whole human race. We should not forget that Christ's earthly ministry was a purely local one: He could be but in one place at a time. Those who worshipped at His feet in Jerusalem could not, at the same time, worship Him in any other place. This was the lesson, doubtless, that the Master desired to teach Mary when she would fain hold on to Him, and when He said, "Touch me not." Mary must worship now by faith, not by sight. IV. THE NATURE OF THE ASCENSION AND EXALTATION OF JESUS CHRIST. 1. IT WAS A BODILY AND VISIBLE ASCENSION. Acts 1:9-11; Luke 24:51. It was the same Christ they had known in life, only glorified, who had tarried with them now for the space of forty days, who had delivered unto them certain commandments, and whose hands were even then outstretched in blessing that they saw slowly vanishing from their view up into the heavens. It was a body of flesh and bones, not flesh and blood. So will be our translation (1 Cor. 15:51, 52). 2. HE PASSED UP THROUGH THE HEAVENS. Heb. 4:14 (R. V.); Eph. 4:10; Heb. 7:26. Whatever and how many created heavens there may be between the earth and the dwelling place of God, we may not know, but we are here told that Christ passed through them all, and up to the highest heaven, indeed was made higher than the heavens. This means that He overcame all those evil principalities and powers that inhabit these heavenlies (Eph. 6) and who doubtless tried their best to keep Him from passing through the heavens to present His finished work before the Father. Just as the high priest passed through the vail into the holy place, so Christ passed through the heavens into the presence of God. 3. HE TOOK HIS PLACE AT THE RIGHT HAND OF THE FATHER. He was exalted to the right hand of God. Eph. 1:20--"Set him at his own right hand in the heavenly places, far above all principality and power." Col. 3:1--"Christ sitteth on the right hand of God." This place was not taken by Christ without conflict with these evil principalities and powers. But "He made a show of them openly, triumphing over them in it" (Col. 2:15). See also Acts 5:31. What is meant by "the right hand of God"? Is it a definite place, or is it simply a figure of speech denoting a place of authority and power? Why can not both things be included? God has His dwelling place in heaven, and it is not incredible to believe that from the throne there Christ exercises His divine prerogatives. Stephen saw Christ standing at the right hand of God in heaven. The "right hand of God" assuredly indicates the place of the accuser whom Christ casts out (Zec. 3:1; Rev. 12:10); the place of intercession which Christ now occupies (Rom. 8:34); the place of acceptance where the Intercessor now sits (Psa. 110:1); the place of highest power and richest blessing (Gen. 48:13-19); the place of power (Psa. 110:5). All these powers and prerogatives are Christ's by reason of His finished work of redemption. V. THE PURPOSE OF THE ASCENSION AND EXALTATION OF JESUS CHRIST. 1. HE HAS ENTERED HEAVEN AS A FORERUNNER. Heb. 6:20--"Whither the forerunner is for us entered, even Jesus." The forerunner is one who enters into a place where the rest are to follow; one who is sent before to make observations; a scout, a spy. The Levitical high priest was not a forerunner; no one could follow him. But where Christ goes His people may go also. 2. HE HAS GONE TO PREPARE A PLACE FOR HIS PEOPLE. Heb. 9:21-24; John 14:2. He is there making all necessary preparations for the coming of His bride, the Church. In some way it seems that the heavenly sanctuary had been defiled by sin. It was necessary, therefore, that Christ purge it with His blood. What a home that will be if He prepares it! 3. HE IS NOW APPEARING BEFORE GOD IN OUR BEHALF. Heb. 9:24--"To appear in the presence of God for us." He is there to act as High Priest in our behalf; to present the blood of atonement. "Before the throne my Surety stands." And yet not so much before the throne as on the throne. He is the Kingly Priest. With authority He asks, and His petitions are granted. 4. HE HAS TAKEN HIS PLACE AT THE FATHER'S RIGHT HAND THAT HE MAY FILL ALL THINGS, AWAITING THE DAY WHEN HE SHALL HAVE UNIVERSAL DOMINION. Eph. 4:10. He fills all things with His presence, with His work, with Himself. He is not a local Christ any longer (cf. Jer. 23:24). Heb. 10:12, 13; Acts 3:20, 21--"He shall send Jesus Christ . . . . whom the heaven must receive until the times of restitution of all things." Having won His victory, Christ is now waiting for all the spoils to be gathered. He is expecting, not doubting, but assuredly waiting; already His feet are upon the neck of the enemy. The Apocalypse pictures Christ entering upon the actual possession of His kingdom. VI. THE RESULTS OF THE ASCENSION AND EXALTATION OF JESUS CHRIST. 1. IT ASSURES US OF A FREE AND CONFIDENT ACCESS INTO THE PRESENCE OF GOD. Heb. 4:14-16 (R. V.)--"Having then a great high priest, who hath passed through the heavens, Jesus the Son of God, let us hold fast our confession. . . . . Let us therefore draw near with boldness unto the throne of grace." Our great High Priest is before the throne to present petitions, secure pardons for His people, and to communicate blessings in answer to their faith and prayers. We may have a free and fearless confidence in our approach to God. 2. AN ASSURED HOPE OF IMMORTALITY. 2 Cor. 5:1-8 describes the longing of the Christian to be clothed with a body after he has been called upon to lay aside this earthly tabernacle. He has no desire for a bodiless existence. The ascension and exaltation of Christ assures the believer that as Christ, so he also will take his place in heaven with a body like unto Christ's own glorious body. 3. IT GIVES THE BELIEVER CONFIDENCE IN GOD'S PROVIDENCE TO BELIEVE THAT ALL THINGS ARE WORKING TOGETHER FOR HIS GOOD Seeing that Christ, the believer's Head, is exalted far above all things in heaven and earth, it is possible for the believer to be master of circumstances, and superior to all his environment (Eph. 1:22; cf. Col. 1:15-18). 4. CHRIST HAS BEEN MADE HEAD OVER ALL THINGS FOR THE CHURCH. That is to say, that everything is subject to Christ, and that for the Church's sake. Eph. 1:22 (R. V.)--"And he put all things in subjection under his feet, and gave him to be head over all things to the church." Christ is the fullness of the Father for the Church (Col. 1:19; 2:9, 10). Christ bestows the Holy Spirit upon the Church (Acts 2:33-36; John 7:37-39). He receives for, and bestows upon the Church spiritual gifts (Eph. 4:8-12). THE DOCTRINE OF THE HOLY SPIRIT I. THE PERSONALITY OF THE HOLY SPIRIT. 1. PERSONAL NAMES GIVEN TO THE SPIRIT. 2. PERSONAL PRONOUNS USED OF THE SPIRIT. 3. THE SPIRIT ASSOCIATED WITH THE FATHER AND THE SON. 4. THE SPIRIT POSSESSES PERSONAL CHARACTERISTICS. 5. PERSONAL ACTS ARE ASCRIBED TO THE HOLY SPIRIT. 6. THE SPIRIT IS SUBJECT TO PERSONAL TREATMENT. II. THE DEITY OF THE HOLY SPIRIT. 1. DIVINE NAMES ARE GIVEN TO THE SPIRIT. 2. DIVINE ATTRIBUTES. 3. DIVINE WORKS. 4. NAME OF THE SPIRIT ASSOCIATED WITH NAMES OF THE DEITY. 5. COMPARISON OF OLD TESTAMENT PASSAGES WITH SOME IN THE NEW TESTAMENT. III. THE NAMES OF THE HOLY SPIRIT. 1. THE HOLY SPIRIT. 2. THE SPIRIT OF GRACE. 3. THE SPIRIT OF BURNING. 4. THE SPIRIT OF TRUTH. 5. THE SPIRIT OF LIFE. 6. THE SPIRIT OF WISDOM AND KNOWLEDGE. 7. THE SPIRIT OF PROMISE. 8. THE SPIRIT OF GLORY. 9. THE SPIRIT OF GOD AND OF CHRIST. IV. THE WORK OF THE HOLY SPIRIT. 1. IN RELATION TO THE WORLD. a) The Universe. b) The World of Mankind. 2. IN RELATION TO THE BELIEVER. 3. IN RELATION TO THE SCRIPTURES. 4. IN RELATION TO JESUS CHRIST. V. OFFENCES AGAINST THE HOLY SPIRIT. 1. BY THE SINNER. a) Resisting. b) Insulting. c) Blaspheming. 2. BY THE BELIEVER. a) Grieving. b) Lying to. c) Quenching. THE DOCTRINE OF THE HOLY SPIRIT. We are living in the Age of the Spirit. The Old Testament period may be called the Age of the Father; the period covered by the Gospels, the Age of the Son; from Pentecost until the second advent of Christ, the Age of the Spirit. All matters pertaining to the doctrine of the Holy Spirit should, therefore, be of special interest to us who live in this age of special privilege. Yet how ignorant is the average Christian concerning matters pertaining to the Spirit. The Christian church today needs to heed Paul's exhortation: "Now concerning spiritual gifts (or, perhaps better, "matters pertaining to the Spirit"), I would not have you ignorant." May it not be that the reason why the sin against the Holy Spirit is so grievous is because it is a sin committed in the light and with the knowledge of the clearest and fullest revelation of the Godhead. We cannot, therefore, afford to remain in ignorance of this all-important doctrine. I. THE PERSONALITY OF THE HOLY SPIRIT. It seems strange that it should be necessary to discuss this phase of the subject at all. Indeed, in the light of the last discourse of the Master (John 14-16), it seems superfluous, if not really insulting. During all the ages of the Christian era, however, it has been necessary to emphasize this phase of the doctrine of the Spirit (cf. Arianism, Socinianism, Unitarianism). 1. WHY IS THE PERSONALITY OF THE HOLY SPIRIT QUESTIONED? a) Because, as Contrasted with the Other Persons of the Godhead, the Spirit Seems Impersonal. The visible creation makes the personality of God the Father somewhat easy to conceive; the incarnation makes it almost, if not altogether, impossible to disbelieve in the personality of Jesus Christ; but the acts and workings of the Holy Spirit are so secret and mystical, so much is said of His influence, graces, power and gifts, that we are prone to think of Him as an influence, a power, a manifestation or influence of the Divine nature, an agent rather than a Person. b) Because of the Names Given to the Holy Spirit. He is called _breath, wind, power._ The symbols used in speaking of the Spirit are _oil, fire, water,_ etc. See John 3:5-8; Acts 2:1-4; John 20:22; 1 John 2:20. It is not strange that in view of all this some students of the Scriptures may have been led to believe, erroneously of course, that the Holy Spirit is an impersonal influence emanating from God the Father. c) Because the Holy Spirit is not usually Associated with the Father and the Son in the Greetings and Salutation of the New Testament. For illustration, see 1 Thess. 3:11--"Now God himself and our Father, and our Lord Jesus Christ, direct our way unto you." Yet we must remember, in this connection, that the Apostolic Benediction in 2 Cor. 13:14 does associate the three persons of the Trinity, thereby asserting their personality equally. d) Because the Word or Name "Spirit" is Neuter. It is true that the same Greek word is translated _wind_ and _Spirit;_ also that the Authorized Version uses the neuter pronoun "itself," when speaking of the Holy Spirit (Rom. 8:16, 26). As we shall see later, the Revised Version substitutes "himself" for "itself." The importance of the personality of the Spirit, and of our being assured of this fact is forcibly set forth by Dr. R. A. Torrey: "If the Holy Spirit is a Divine Person and we know it not, we are robbing a Divine Being of the love and adoration which are His due. It is of the highest practical importance whether the Holy Spirit is a power that we, in our ignorance and weakness, are somehow to get hold of and use, or whether the Holy Spirit is a personal Being . . . . who is to get hold of us and use us. It is of the highest experimental importance. . . . . Many can testify to the blessing that came into their lives when they came to know the Holy Spirit, not merely as a gracious influence . . . . but as an ever-present, loving friend and helper." 2. METHOD OF PROOF. It is difficult to define _personality_ when used of the Divine Being. God cannot be measured by human standards. God was not made in the image of man, but man in the image of God. God is not a deified man; man is rather a limited God ("a little . . .. less than God." Heb. 2:7, R. V.). Only God has a perfect personality. When, however, one possesses the attributes, properties and qualities of personality, then personality may be unquestionably predicated of such a being. Does the Holy Spirit possess such properties? Let us see. a) Names that Imply Personality are Given to the Spirit. _The Comforter:_ John 14:16; 16:7. "Comforter" means one who is called to your side--as a client calls a lawyer. That this name cannot be used of any abstract, impersonal influence is clear from the fact that in 1 John 2:1 the same word is used of Christ. (See Rom. 8:26). Again in John 14:16 the Holy Spirit, as the Paraclete, is to take the place of a person--Christ Himself, and to personally guide the disciples just as Jesus had been doing. No one but a person can take the place of a person; certainly no mere influence could take the place of Jesus Christ, the greatest personality that ever lived. Again, Christ, in speaking of the Spirit as the Comforter, uses the masculine definite article, and thus, by His choice of gender, teaches the personality of the Holy Spirit. There can be no parity between a person and an influence. b) Personal Pronouns are Used of the Holy Spirit. John 16:7, 8, 13-15: Twelve times in these verses the Greek masculine pronoun _ekeinos_ (that one, He) is used of the Spirit. This same word is used of Christ in 1 John 2:6; 3:3, 5, 7, 16. This is especially remarkable because the Greek word for spirit (_pneuma_) is neuter, and so should have a neuter pronoun; yet, contrary to ordinary usage, a masculine pronoun is here used. This is not a pictorial personification, but a plain, definite, clear-cut statement asserting the personality of the Holy Spirit. Note also that where, in the Authorized Version, the neuter pronoun is used, the same is corrected in the Revised Version: not "itself," but "Himself" (Rom. 8:16,26). c) The Holy Spirit is Identified with the Father and the Son--and, indeed, with Christians--in Such a Way as to Indicate Personality. The Baptismal Formula. Matt. 28:19. Suppose we should read, "Baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of _the wind or breath_." Would that sound right? If the first two names are personal, is not the third? Note also: "In the name" (singular), not names (plural), implying that all three are Persons equally, The Apostolic Benediction. 2 Cor. 13:14. The same argument may be used as that in connection with the Baptismal Formula, just cited. Identification with Christians. Acts 15:28. "For it seemeth good to the Holy Ghost, and to us." Shall we say, "It seemeth good to _the wind_ and to us"? It would be absurd. 10:38--"How God anointed Jesus of Nazareth with the Holy Ghost and with power." Shall we read, "Anointed .. with _power_ and power?" Rom. 15:13--"That ye may abound in hope, through the power of the Holy Ghost." Shall we read, "That ye may abound in hope, through the power of the _power_"? See also Luke 4:14. Would not these passages rebel against such tautological and meaningless usage? Most assuredly. d) Personal Characteristics are Ascribed to the Holy Spirit. The Holy Spirit is represented as searching the deepest and profoundest truths of God, and possessing knowledge of His counsels sufficiently to understand His purposes (1 Cor. 2:10, 11). Could a mere influence do this? See also Isa. 11:3; I Pet. 1:11. Spiritual gifts are distributed to believers according to the _will_ of the Spirit (1 Cor. 12). Here is wisdom, prudence and discretion, all of which are distinguishing marks of personality. The Spirit not only bestows spiritual gifts, but bestows them discreetly, according as He thinks best. See John 3:8 also. The Spirit is said to have a _mind_, and that implies thought, purpose, determination: Rom. 8:27, cf. v. 7. Mind is an attribute of personality. e) Personal Acts are Ascribed to the Holy Spirit. The Spirit _speaks_: Rev. 2:7 (cf. Matt. 17:5--"Hear ye him.") It is the Spirit who speaks through the apostles (10:20). Speech is an attribute of personality. The Spirit _maketh intercession:_ Rom. 8:26 (R. V.), cf. Heb. 7:25; I John 2:1, 2, where Christ is said to "make intercession." Acts 13:2; 16:6, 7; 20:28. In these passages the Holy Spirit is seen _calling_ missionaries, _overseeing_ the church, and _commanding_ the life and practice of the apostles and the whole church. Such acts indicate personality. f) The Holy Spirit is Susceptible to Personal Treatment. He may be _grieved_ (Eph. 4:30); _insulted_ (Heb. 10.29); _lied to_ (Acts 5:3); blasphemed and sinned against (Matt. 12:31, 32). Indeed, the sin against the Holy Spirit is a much more grievous matter than the sin against the Son of Man. Can such be said of an influence? Can it be said even of any of the sons of men? II. THE DEITY OF THE HOLY SPIRIT. By the Deity of the Holy Spirit is meant that the Holy Spirit is God. This fact is clearly set forth in the Scriptures, in a five-fold way: 1. DIVINE NAMES ARE GIVEN TO THE HOLY SPIRIT. In Acts 5:4, the Spirit is called _God_. And this in opposition to man, to whom, alone, Ananias thought he was talking. Can any statement allege deity more clearly? In 2 Cor. 3:18--"We .... are transformed into the same image from glory to glory, even as from the Lord the Spirit" (R. V.). Here the Spirit is called the _Lord_. For the meaning of "Lord" see under the Deity of Christ, p. 60. 2. THE HOLY SPIRIT POSSESSES DIVINE ATTRIBUTES. He is _eternal_ in his nature (Heb. 9:14, R. V.); _omnipresent_ (Psa. 139:7-10); _omnipotent_ (Luke 1:35); _omniscient_ (1 Cor. 2:10, 11). For the meaning of these attributes, see under the Doctrine of God and Jesus Christ, pp. 28 and 63. 3. DIVINE WORKS ARE ASCRIBED TO THE HOLY SPIRIT. _Creation_ (Gen. 1:2; Psa. 104:30, R. V.); Job 33:4--"The Spirit of God hath made me, and the breath of the Almighty hath given me life." _Regeneration_ (John 3:5-8); _Resurrection_ (Rom. 8:11). 4. THE NAME OF THE HOLY SPIRIT IS ASSOCIATED WITH THAT OF THE FATHER, AND OF THE SON. See under Personality of the Spirit, p. 107. The same arguments which there prove the Personality of the Spirit may be used here to prove the Deity of the Spirit. It would be just as absurd to say, "Baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of _Moses_"--thus putting Moses on an equality with the Father and the Son--as it would be to say, "Baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the _wind_"--thus making the wind as personal as the Father and the Son. The Spirit is on an equality with the Father and the Son in the distribution of spiritual gifts (1 Cor. 12:4-6). 5. PASSAGES WHICH IN THE OLD TESTAMENT REFER TO GOD ARE IN THE NEW TESTAMENT MADE TO REFER TO THE HOLY SPIRIT. Compare Isa. 6:8-10 with Acts 28:25-27; and Exod. 16:7 with Heb. 3:7-9. III. THE NAMES OF THE HOLY SPIRIT. Just as the Father and the Son have certain names ascribed to them, setting forth their nature and work, so also does the Holy Spirit have names which indicate His character and work. 1. THE HOLY SPIRIT. Luke 11:13--"How much more shall your heavenly Father give the Holy Spirit to them that ask Him?" Rom. 1:4--"The Spirit of holiness." In these passages it is the moral character of the Spirit that is set forth. Note the contrast: "Ye, being evil," and "the Holy Spirit." The Spirit is _holy_ in Himself and produces holiness in others. 2. THE SPIRIT OF GRACE. Heb. 10:29--"And hath done despite unto the Spirit of grace." As the executive of the Godhead, the Spirit confers grace. To resist the Spirit, therefore, is to shut off all hope of salvation. To resist His appeal is to insult the Godhead. That is why the punishment mentioned here is so awful. 3. THE SPIRIT OF BURNING. Matt. 3:11, 12--"He shall baptize you with the Holy Ghost, and with fire." Isa. 4:4--"When the Lord shall have washed away the filth of the daughters of Zion.... by the spirit of judgment and the spirit of burning." This cleansing is done by the blast of the Spirit's burning. Here is the searching, illuminating, refining, dross-consuming character of the Spirit. He burns up the dross in our lives when He enters and takes possession. 4. THE SPIRIT OF TRUTH. John 14:17; 15:26; 16:13; I John 5:6. As God is Love, so the Spirit is Truth. He possesses, reveals, confers, leads into, testifies to, and defends the truth. Thus He is opposed to the "spirit of error" (1 John 4:6). 5. THE SPIRIT OF LIFE. Rom. 8:2--"For the law of the Spirit of life in Christ Jesus hath made me free from the law of sin and death." That which had been the actuating principle of life, namely, the flesh, is now deposed, and its controlling place taken by the Spirit. The Spirit is thus the dynamic of the believer's experience that leads him into a life of liberty and power. 6. THE SPIRIT OF WISDOM AND KNOWLEDGE. That the references in Isa. 11:2; 61:1, 2 are to be understood as referring to the Spirit that abode upon the Messiah, is clear from Luke 4:18 where "Spirit" is capitalized. Christ's wisdom and knowledge resulted, in one aspect of the case, from His being filled with the Spirit. "Wisdom and understanding" refer to intellectual and moral apprehension; "Counsel and might," the power to scheme, originate, and carry out; "Knowledge and the fear of the Lord," acquaintance with the true will of God, and the determination to carry it out at all costs. These graces are the result of the Spirit's operations on the heart. 7. THE SPIRIT OF PROMISE. Eph. 1:13--"Ye were sealed with that holy Spirit of promise." The Spirit is the fulfillment of Christ's promise to send the Comforter, and so He is the promised Spirit. The Spirit also confirms and seals the believer, and thus assures him that all the promises made to him shall be completely fulfilled. 8. THE SPIRIT OF GLORY. 1 Pet. 4:14--"The spirit of glory and of God resteth upon you." What is glory? Glory as used in the Scripture means character. The Holy Spirit is the One who produces godlike character in the believer (cf. 2 Cor. 3:18). 9. THE SPIRIT OF GOD, AND OF CHRIST. 1 Cor. 3:16--"The Spirit of God dwelleth in you." Rom. 8:9--"Now if any man have not the Spirit of Christ, he is none of his." The fact that the Spirit is sent from the Father and the Son, that He represents them, and is their executive, seems to be the thought conveyed here. 10. THE COMFORTER (p. 109). IV. THE WORK OF THE HOLY SPIRIT. The Work of the Spirit may be summed up under the following headings: His work in the universe; in humanity as a whole; in the believer; with reference to the Scriptures; and, finally, with reference to Jesus Christ. 1. IN RELATION TO THE WORLD. a) With Regard to the Universe. There is a sense in which the creation of the universe may be ascribed to God's Spirit. Indeed Psa. 33:6--"By the word of the Lord were the heavens made; and all the host of them by the breath (Spirit) of his mouth," attributes the work of creation to the Trinity, the Lord, the Word of the Lord, and the Spirit of the Lord. The creation of man is attributed to the Spirit. Job 33:4--"The Spirit of God hath made me, and the breath of the Almighty hath given me life." It would be proper, doubtless, to say that the Father created all things through the agency of the Word and the Spirit. In the Genesis account of creation (1:3) the Spirit is seen actively engaged in the work of creation. Not only is it true that the Spirit's agency is seen in the act of creation, but His power is seen also in the preservation of nature. Isa. 40:7--"The grass withereth, the flower fadeth, because the spirit of the Lord bloweth upon it." A staggering declaration. THE DOCTRINE OF THE HOLY SPIRIT The Spirit comes in the fierce east wind with its keen, biting blast of death. He comes also in the summer zephyr, which brings life and beauty. b) With Regard to Humanity as a Whole. John 16:8-11--"And when He is come, he will reprove the world of sin, and of righteousness, and of judgment; of sin, because they believe not on me; of righteousness, because I go unto my Father and ye see me no more; of judgment, because the prince of this world is judged." Here are three great facts of which the Spirit bears witness to the world: the sin of unbelief in Christ; the fact that Christ was righteous and absolutely true in all that He claimed to be; the fact that the power of Satan has been broken. Of sin: the sin in which all other sins are embraced; of righteousness: the righteousness in which all other righteousness is manifested and fulfilled; of judgment: the judgment in which all other judgments are decided and grounded. Of sin, belonging to man; of righteousness, belonging to Christ; of judgment, belonging to Satan. John 15:26--"The Spirit of truth ... shall testify of me." Acts 5:32--"And we are his witnesses of these things; and so is also the Holy Ghost." It is the work of the Holy Spirit to constantly bear witness of Christ and His finished work to the world of sinful and sinning men. This He does largely, although hardly exclusively, through the testimony of believers to the saving power and work of Christ: "Ye also shall bear witness" (John 15:27). 2. THE WORK OF THE SPIRIT IN RELATION TO THE BELIEVER. a) He Regenerates the Believer. John 3:3-5--"Born of ... the Spirit." Tit. 3:5--"The... renewing of the Holy Ghost." Sonship, and membership in the kingdom of God, come only through the regenerating of the Holy Spirit. "It is the Spirit that quickeneth." Just as Jesus was begotten of the Holy Ghost, so must every child of God who is to be an heir to the kingdom. b) The Spirit Indwells the Believer. 1 Cor. 6:19--"Your body is the temple of the Holy Ghost which is in you." Also 3:16; Rom. 8:9. Every believer, no matter how weak and imperfect he may be, or how immature his Christian experience, still has the indwelling of the Spirit. Acts 19:2 does not contradict this statement. Evidently some miraculous outpouring of the Spirit is intended there, the which followed the prayer and laying on of the hands of the apostles. "Now if any man have not the Spirit of Christ, he is none of his." "No man can say that Jesus is the Lord, but by the Holy Ghost" (Rom. 8:9; 1 Cor. 12:3). c) The Spirit Seals the Believer with Assurance of Salvation. Eph. 1:13, 14--"In whom also after that ye believed, ye were sealed with that Holy Spirit of promise; which is the earnest of our inheritance." Also 4:30--"Sealed unto the day of redemption." This sealing stands for two things: ownership and likeness (2 Tim. 2:19-21). The Holy Spirit is "the Spirit of adoption" which God puts into our hearts, by which we know that we are His children. The Spirit bears witness to this great truth (Gal. 4:6; Rom. 8:14, 16). This sealing has to do with the heart and the conscience--satisfying both as to the settlement of the sin and sonship question. d) The Holy Spirit Infills the Believer. Acts 2:4--"And they were all filled with the Holy Ghost." Eph. 5:18--"Be filled with the Spirit." The filling differs somewhat from the indwelling. We may speak of the baptism of the Spirit as that initial act of the Spirit by which, at the moment of our regeneration, we are baptized by the Spirit into the body of Christ; the Spirit then comes and takes up His dwelling within the believer. The filling with the Spirit, however, is not confined to one experience, or to any one point of time exclusively; it may be repeated times without number. There is one baptism, but many infillings with the Spirit. The experience of the apostles in the Acts bears witness to the fact that they were repeatedly filled with the Spirit. Whenever a new emergency arose they sought a fresh infilling with the Spirit (cf. Acts 2:4 with 4:31 showing that the apostles who were filled on the day of Pentecost were again filled a few days after). There is a difference between possessing the Spirit, and being filled with the Spirit. All Christians have the first; not all have the second, although all may have. Eph. 4:30 speaks of believers as being "sealed," whereas 5:18 commands those same believers to "be filled (to be being filled again and again) with the Spirit." Both the baptism and the infilling may take place at once. There need be no long wilderness experience in the life of the believer. It is the will of God that we should be filled (or, if you prefer the expression, "be baptized") with the Spirit at the moment of conversion, and remain filled all the time. Whenever we are called upon for any special service, or for any new emergency, we should seek a fresh infilling of the Spirit, either for life or service, as the case may be. The Holy Spirit seeks--so we learn from the story of the Acts--for men who are not merely possessed by but also filled with the Spirit, for service (6:3, 5; 9:17; 11:24). Possession touches assurance; infilling, service. e) The Holy Spirit Empowers the Believer for Life and Service. Rom. 8:2--"For the law of the Spirit of life in Christ Jesus hath made me free from the law of sin and death" (also vv. 9-11). There are two natures in the believer: the flesh and the Spirit (Gal. 5:17). But while the believer is still in the flesh, he does not live after the flesh (Rom. 8:12, 13). The Holy Spirit enables the believer to get constant and continual victory over sin. A single act of sin a believer may commit; to live in a state of sin is impossible for him, for the Spirit which is within him gives him victory, so that sin does not _reign_ over him. If sinless perfection is not a Scriptural doctrine, sinful imperfection is certainly less Scriptural. The eighth chapter of Romans exhibits a victorious life for the believer; a life so different from that depicted in the seventh chapter. And the difference lies in the fact that the Holy Spirit is hardly, if at all, mentioned in the seventh chapter, while in the eighth He is mentioned over twelve times. The Spirit in the heart is the secret of victory over sin. Then note how the Holy Spirit produces the blessed fruit of the Christian life (Gal. 5:22, 23). What a beautiful cluster of graces! How different from the awful catalogue of the works of the flesh (vv. 19-21). Look at this cluster of fruit. There are three groups: the first, in relation to God--love, joy, peace; the second, in relation to our fellowman--longsuffering, gentleness, goodness; the third, for our individual Christian life--faith, meekness, self-control. f) The Holy Spirit is the Guide of the Believer's Life. He guides him as to the details of his daily life, Rom. 8:14; Gal. 5:16, 25-"Walk in the Spirit." There is no detail of the believer's life that may not be under the control and direction of the Spirit. "The steps (and, as one has well said,'the stops') of a good man are ordered by the Lord." The Holy Spirit guides the believer as to the field in which he should labor. How definitely this truth is taught in the Acts 8:27-29; 16:6, 7; 13:2-4. What a prominent part the Spirit played in selecting the fields of labor for the apostles! Every step in the missionary activity of the early church seemed to be under the direct guidance of the Spirit. g) The Holy Spirit Anoints the Believer. This anointing stands for three things: First, for _knowledge and teaching_. 1 John 2:27--"But the anointing which ye have received of him abideth in you, and ye need not that any man teach you; but as the same anointing teacheth you of all things, and is truth . . . ye shall abide in him." Also 2:20. It is not enough to learn the truth from human teachers, we must listen to the teaching of the Spirit. 1 Cor. 2:9-14 teaches us that there are some great truths that are spiritually discerned; they cannot be understood saving by the Spirit-filled man, for they are "spiritually discerned." See also John 14:26; 16:13. Second, for _service_. How dependent Christ was upon the Holy Spirit for power in which to perform the duties of life is clear from such passages as Luke 4:18--"The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he hath anointed me to preach," etc. Also Acts 10:38--"How God anointed Jesus of Nazareth with the Holy Ghost and with power: who went about doing good." Ezekiel teaches a lesson by his vivid picture of the activity of God portrayed in the wheels within wheels. The moving power within those wheels was the Spirit of God. So in all our activity for God we must have the Spirit of power. Third, for _consecration_. Three classes of persons in the Old Testament were anointed: the prophet, the priest, and the king. The result of anointing was consecration--"Thy vows are upon me, O God"; knowledge of God and His will--"Ye know all things"; influence--fragrance from the ointment. Just as the incense at Mecca clings to the pilgrim when he passes through the streets, so it is with him who has the anointing of the Spirit. All his garments smell of myrrh, and aloes, and cassia. He has about him the sweet odor and scent of the Rose of Sharon and the Lily of the Valley. 3. THE RELATION OF THE HOLY SPIRIT TO THE SCRIPTURES. a) He is the Author of the Scriptures. Holy men of God spake as they were moved by the Holy Spirit. 2 Pet. 1:20, 21. The Scriptures came by the inbreathing of God, 2 Tim. 3:16. "Hear what the Spirit saith to the churches," Eev. 2 and 3. It was the Spirit who was to guide the apostles into all the truth, and show them things to come (John 16:13). b) The Spirit is also the Interpreter of the Scriptures. 1 Cor. 2:9-14. He is "the Spirit of wisdom and revelation," Eph. 1:17. "He shall receive of mine and show it unto you," John 16:14, 15. (See under the Inspiration of the Bible, p. 194.) 4. THE RELATION OF THE HOLY SPIRIT TO JESUS CHRIST. How dependent Jesus Christ was, in His state of humiliation, on the Holy Spirit! If He needed to depend solely upon the Spirit can we afford to do less? a) He was Conceived by the Holy Spirit, born of the Spirit, Luke 1:35. b) He was led by the Spirit, Matt. 4:1. c) He was Anointed by the Spirit for Service, Acts 10:38. d) He was Crucified in the Power of the Spirit, Heb. 9:14. e) He was Raised by the Power of the Spirit, Rom. 1:4; 8:11. f) He gave Commandment to His Disciples and Church Through the Spirit, Acts 1:2. g) He is the Bestower of the Holy Spirit, Acts 2:33. V. OFFENCES AGAINST THE HOLY SPIRIT. Scarcely any phase of the doctrine of the Spirit is more solemn than this. It behooves us all, believer and unbeliever alike, to be careful as to how we treat the Holy Spirit. Sinning against the Spirit is fraught with terrific consequences. For convenience sake we are classifying the offences against the Spirit under two general divisions, namely, those committed by the unbeliever, and those committed by the believer. Not that there is absolutely no overlapping in either case. For, doubtless, in the very nature of the case there must be. This thought will be kept in mind in the study of the offences against the Spirit. 1. OFFENCES COMMITTED BY THE UNBELIEVER. a) Resisting the Holy Ghost. Acts 7:51-"Ye do always resist the Holy Ghost." Here the picture is that of the Holy Spirit attacking the citadel of the soul of man, who violently resists the gracious attempts of the Spirit to win him. In spite of the plainest arguments, and the most incontestable facts this man wilfully rejects the evidence and refuses to accept the Christ so convincingly presented. Thus is the Holy Ghost resisted. (See Acts 6:10.) That this is a true picture of resistance to the Holy Spirit is clearly seen from Stephen's recital of the facts in Acts 7:51-57. b) Insulting, or Doing Despite unto the Holy Spirit. Heb. 10:29 (cf. Luke 18:32). It is the work of the Spirit to present the atoning work of Christ to the sinner as the ground of his pardon. When the sinner refuses to believe or accept the testimony of the Spirit, he thereby insults the Spirit by esteeming the whole work of Christ as a deception and a lie, or accounts the death of Christ as the death of an ordinary or common man, and not as God's provision for the sinner. c) Blaspheming the Holy Spirit. Matt. 12:31,32. This seems to be the most grievous sin of all, for the Master asserts that there is no forgiveness for this sin. Sins against the Son of Man may be forgiven because it was easily possible, by reason of His humble birth, lowly parentage, etc., to question the claims He put forth to deity. But when, after Pentecost, the Holy Spirit came, and presented to every man's conscience evidence sufficient to prove the truth of these claims, the man who then refused to yield to Christ's claims was guilty of resisting, insulting, and that amounts to blaspheming the testimony of the whole Godhead, of which the Spirit is the executive. 2. OFFENCES COMMITTED BY THE BELIEVER. a) Grieving the Spirit. Eph. 4:30, 31; Isa. 63:10 (R. V.). To grieve means to make sad or sorrowful. It is the word used to describe the experience of Christ in Gethsemane; and so the sorrow of Gethsemane may be endured by the Holy Spirit. The Spirit is the most sensitive person of the Godhead. He is called the "Mother--heart" of God. The context of this passage (v.31) tells us how the Spirit may be grieved: by "foolish talking and jesting." Whenever the believer allows any of the things mentioned in this verse (and those stated also in Gal. 5:17-19) to find place in his heart and expression in his words and life; when these things abide in his heart and actively manifest themselves, then the Spirit is sad and grieved. Indeed to refuse any part of our moral nature to the full sway of the Spirit is to grieve Him. If we continue to grieve the Spirit, then the grief turns into vexation (Isa. 63:10). b) Lying to the Holy Spirit. Acts 5:3, 4. The sin of lying to the Spirit is very prominent when consecration is most popular. We stand up and say, "I surrender all" when in our hearts we know that we have not surrendered _all_. Yet, like Ananias, we like to have others believe that we have consecrated our all. We do not wish to be one whit behind others in our profession. Bead carefully in this connection the story of Achan (Joshua 7), and that of Gehazi (2 Kings 5:20-27). c) Quenching the Spirit. 1 Thess. 5:19-"Quench not the Spirit." The thought of quenching the Spirit seems to be used in connection with fire: "Smoking flax shall he not quench" (Matt. 12:20); "Quench the fiery darts" (Eph. 6:16). It is therefore related more to the thought of service than to that of life. The context of 1 Thess. 5:19 shows this. The manifestation of the Spirit in prophesying was not to be quenched. The Holy Spirit is seen as coming down upon this gathered assembly for praise, prayer, and testimony. This manifestation of the Spirit must not be quenched. Thus we may quench the Spirit not only in our hearts, but also in the hearts of others. How? By disloyalty to the voice and call of the Spirit; by disobedience to His voice whether it be to testify, praise, to do any bit of service for God, or to refuse to go where He sends us to labor--the foreign field, for example. Let us be careful also lest in criticizing the manifestation of the Spirit in the testimony of some believer, or the sermon of some preacher, we be found guilty of quenching the Spirit. Let us see to it that the gift of the Holy Ghost for service be not lost by any unfaithfulness, or by the cultivation of a critical spirit on our part, so that the fire in our hearts dies out and nothing but ashes remain--ashes, a sign that fire was once there, but has been extinguished. From what has been said the following may be summarily stated: _Resisting_ has to do with the regenerating work of the Spirit; _Grieving_ has to do with the indwelling Holy Spirit; _Quenching_ has to do with the enduement of the Spirit for service. THE DOCTRINE OF MAN I. THE CREATION AND ORIGINAL CONDITION OF MAN. 1. IMAGE AND LIKENESS OF GOD. 2. PHYSICAL--MENTAL--MORAL--SPIRITUAL. II. THE FALL OF MAN. 1. THE SCRIPTURAL ACCOUNT. 2. VARIOUS INTERPRETATIONS. 3. THE NATURE OF THE FALL. 4. THE RESULTS OF THE FALL. a) On Adam, and Eve. b) On the Race. (1) Various Theories. (2) Scriptural Declarations. THE DOCTRINE OF MAN. I. THE CREATION AND ORIGINAL CONDITION OF MAN. 1. MAN MADE IN THE IMAGE AND LIKENESS OF GOD. Gen. 1:26--"And God said, Let us make man in our image, after our likeness." 9:6--"For in the image of God made he man." What is meant by the terms _image_ and _likeness_? _Image_ means the shadow or outline of a figure, while _likeness_ denotes the resemblance of that shadow to the figure. The two words, however, are practically synonymous. That man was made in the image and likeness of God is fundamental in all God's dealings with man (1 Cor. 11:7; Eph. 4:21-24; Col. 3:10; James 3:9). We may express the language as follows: Let us make man in our image to be our likeness. a) The Image of God Does Not Denote Physical Likeness. God is Spirit; He does not have parts and passions as a man. (See under Doctrine of God; The Spirituality of God, pp. 19, 20). Consequently Mormon and Swedenborgian views of God as a great human are wrong. Deut. 4:15 contradicts such a physical view of God (see p. 19, b, c). Some would infer from Psa. 17:15--"I shall be satisfied, when I awake, with thy likeness," that in some remote way, a physical likeness is suggested. The R. V., however, changes somewhat the sense of this verse, and reads: "I shall be satisfied, when I awake, with _beholding_ thy form." See also Num. 12:8, R. V. It is fair to believe, however, that erectness of posture, intelligence of countenance, and a quick, glancing eye characterized the first man. We should also remember that the manifestations in the Old Testament, and the incarnation must throw some light upon this subject (see p. 20). b) Nor Are the Expressions "Image" and "Likeness" Exhausted When We Say That They Consisted in Man's Dominion Over Nature, and the Creation of God in General. Indeed the supremacy conferred upon man presupposed those spiritual endowments, and was justified by his fitness, through them, to exercise it. c) Positively, We Learn from Certain Scriptures in What This Image and Likeness Consisted. Eph. 4:23, 24--"And be renewed in the spirit of your mind; and that ye put on the new man, which after God is created in righteousness and true holiness (B. V., holiness of truth)." Col. 3:10--"And have put on the new man, which is renewed in knowledge after the image of him that created him." It is clear from these passages that the image of God consists in knowledge, righteousness, and holiness; moral, not physical likeness. d) The Original Man Was Endowed with Intellectual Faculties. He had sufficient intelligence to give names to the animals as they were presented before him (Gen. 2:19, 20). Adam had not only the power of speech, but the power of reasoning and thought in connection with speech. He could attach words to ideas. This is not the picture, as evolution would have us believe, of an infantile savage slowly groping his way towards articulate speech by imitation of the sounds of animals. e) The Original Man Possessed Moral and Spiritual Faculties. Consider the moral test in Genesis 3. Adam had power to resist or to yield to moral evil. Sin was a volitional thing. Christ, the second Adam, endured a similar test (Matt. 4). From all this it is evident that man's original state was not one of savagery. Indeed there is abundant evidence to show that man has been degraded from a very much higher stage. Both the Bible and science agree in making man the crowning work of God, and that there will be no higher order of beings here on the earth than man. We must not forget that while man, from one side of his nature, is linked to the animal creation, he is yet supra-natural--a being of a higher order and more splendid nature; he is in the image and likeness of God. Man has developed not _from_ the ape, but _away from_ it. He never was anything but potential man. "No single instance has yet been adduced of the transformation of one animal species into another, either by natural or artificial selection; much less has it been demonstrated that the body of the brute has ever been developed into that of the man. The links that should bind man to the monkey have not been found. Not a single one can be shown. None have been found that stood nearer the monkey than the man of today."--_Agassiz_. II. THE FALL OF MAN. The doctrine of the Fall of Man is not peculiar to Christianity; all religions contain an account of it, and recognize the great and awful fact. Had there been no such account as that found in Genesis 3, there would still have remained the problem of the fall and sin. Yet, the doctrine of the fall has a relation to Christianity that it does not have to other religions, or religious systems. The moral character of God as seen in the Christian religion far surpasses the delineation of the Supreme Being set forth in any other religion, and thus heightens and intensifies its idea of sin. It is when men consider the very high character of God as set forth in Christianity, and then look at the doctrine of sin, that they find it hard to reconcile the fact that God, being the moral Being He is, should ever allow sin to come into the world. To some minds these two things seem incompatible. 1. THE SCRIPTURAL ACCOUNT OF THE FALL OF MAN. The third chapter of Genesis gives the fullest account of this awful tragedy in the experience of mankind. Other scriptures: Rom. 5:12-19; I Tim. 2:14; Gen. 6:5; 8:31; Psa. 14; Rom. 3:10-23. The purpose of the Genesis narrative is not to give an account of the manner in which sin came into the _world,_ but how it found its advent into the _human race_. Sin was already in the world, as the existence of Satan and the chaotic condition of things in the beginning, strikingly testify. The reasonableness of the narrative of the fall is seen in view of the condition of man after he had sinned with his condition when he left the hand of the Creator. Compare Gen. 1:26 with 6:5, and Psa. 14. If the fall of man were not narrated in Genesis we should have to postulate some such event to account for the present condition in which we find man. In no part of the Scripture, save in the creation account as found in the first two chapters of Genesis, does man appear perfect and upright. His attitude is that of rebellion against God, of deepening and awful corruption. 2. VARIOUS INTERPRETATIONS OF THE NARRATIVE OF THE FALL OF MAN. Some look upon the whole narrative as being an _allegory_. Adam is the rational part of man; Eve, the sensual; the serpent, external excitements to evil. But the simplicity and artlessness of the narrative militates against this view. Others, again, designate the narrative as being a _myth_. It is regarded as a truth invested in poetic form; something made up from the folklore of the times. But why should these few verses be snatched out of the chapter in which they are found and be called mythical, while the remaining verses are indisputably literal? Then there is the _literal interpretation_, which takes the account as it reads, in its perfectly natural sense, just as in the case of the other parts of the same chapter. There is no intimation in the account itself that it is not to be regarded as literal history. It certainly is part of a historical book. The geographical locations in connection with the story are historic. The curse upon the man, upon the woman, and upon the ground are certainly literal. It is a fact that death is in the world as the wages of sin. Unquestionably Christ, and the other Scripture writers regard the event as historical and literal: of. Matt. 19:4; Mark 10:6; 2 Cor. 11:3; I Tim. 2:13-15; I Cor. 15:56. 3. THE NATURE OF THE FALL. It must be kept in mind that Adam and Eve were free moral agents. That while they were sinless beings, it was yet possible for them to sin, just as it was possible for them not to sin. A careful reading of the narrative leads to the following remarks: The sin of our first parents was purely volitional; it was an act of their own determination. Their sin was, like all other sin, a voluntary act of the will. It came from an outside source, that is to say, it was instigated from without. There was no sin in the nature of the first human pair. Consequently there must have been an ungodly principle already in the world. Probably the fall of Satan and the evil angels had taken place already. The essence of the first sin lay in the denial of the divine will; an elevation of the will of man over the will of God. It was a deliberate transgressing of a divinely marked boundary; an overstepping of the divine limits. In its last analysis, the first sin was, what each and every sin committed since has been, a positive disbelief in the word of the living God. A belief of Satan rather than a belief in God. It is helpful to note that the same lines of temptation that were presented to our first parents, were presented to Christ in the wilderness (Matt. 4:1-11), and to men ever since then (1 John 2:15-17). Satan's program is short and shallow after all. 4. THE RESULTS OF THE FALL. a) On Our First Parents--Adam and Eve. The results of sin in the experience of our first parents were as follows: The ground was cursed, so that henceforth it would not yield good alone (Gen. 3:17). Sorrow and pain to the woman in child-bearing, and subjection of woman to the man (Gen. 3:16). Exhausting physical labor in order to subsist (Gen. 3:19). Physical and spiritual death (Gen. 3:19; 3:3; 5:5; Rom. 5:12). Of course, with all this came also a fear of God, a shame because of sin, a hiding from God's presence, and finally, an expulsion from the garden (Gen. 3:8-11, 32-24). b) On the Race--Various Theories. There are three general views held with regard to the effect of Adam's sin upon the race. Before looking at the strictly Scriptural view in detail, let us briefly state these three theories: That Adam's sin affected himself only; that every human being born into the world is as free from sin as Adam was. The only effect the first sin had upon the race was that of a bad example. According to this theory man is well morally and spiritually. This view of the case is false because the Scriptures recognize all men as guilty and as possessing a sinful nature; because man, as soon as he attains the age of responsibility commits sinful acts, and there is no exception to this rule; because righteousness is impossible without the help of God, otherwise redemption would be by works of righteousness which we have done, and this the Scripture contradicts. According to this view man is perfectly well. (The Pelagian theory.) That while Adam's sin, as guilt, is not imputed to man, he is yet destitute of original righteousness, and, without divine help, is utterly unable to attain it. God, however, bestows upon each individual, at the dawn of consciousness, a special gift of His Spirit, which is sufficient to enable man to be righteous, if he will allow his will to _co-operate_ with God's Spirit. According to this view man is only half sick, or half well. This view also is false because the Scriptures clearly state that man is utterly unable to do a single thing to save himself. (The Semi-Pelagian theory.) That because of the unity of the race in Adam, and the organic unity of mankind, Adam's sin is therefore imputed to his posterity. The nature which man now possesses is like to the corrupted nature of Adam. Man is totally unable to do anything to save himself. According to this theory man is not only not well, nor half well, but totally dead. ( The Augustinian theory.) SCRIPTURAL TEACHING. (1) All men, without respect of condition or class, are sinners before God. Rom. 3:9, 10, 22, 23; Psa. 14; Isa. 53:6. There may be a difference in the degree, but not in the fact of sin. All men, Jew and Gentile, have missed the mark, and failed to attain to God's standard. There is none righteous, no, not one. (2) This universal sinful condition is vitally connected with the sin of Adam. Rom. 5:12--"Wherefore, as by one man sin entered into the world, and death by sin; and so death passed upon all men, for that all have sinned." "For the judgment was by one to condemnation" (5:16). "For as by one man's disobedience many were made sinners" (5:19). All men were in Adam when he sinned; fallen he, fallen they. Herein lies the truth of the organic unity of the race. "In Adam all die." Two questions are raised here: How can man be held responsible for a depraved nature?--this touches the matter of _original sin_; and How can God justly impute Adam's sin to us?--this deals with the question of the _imputation of sin_. (3) The whole world rests under condemnation, wrath, and curse. Rom. 3:19--"That every mouth may be stopped, and all the world may become guilty before God." Gal. 3:10; Eph. 2:3. The law of God demands a perfect obedience; but no son of man can yield such obedience; hence the curse of a broken law rests upon those breaking it. The wrath of God abides on all not vitally united by faith to Jesus Christ (John 3:36). (4) Unregenerate men are regarded as children of the devil, and not sous of God. 1 John 3:8-10; John 8:44--"Ye are of your father the devil." 1 John 5:19--"And we know that we are of God, and the whole world lieth in wickedness (in the wicked one, R. V.)." (5) The whole race of men are in helpless captivity to sin and Satan. Rom. 7, chapter entire; John 8:31-36; Eph. 2:3. (6) The entire nature of man, mentally, morally, spiritually, physically, is sadly affected by sin. The _understanding_ is darkened (Eph. 4:18; 1 Cor. 2:14); the _heart_ is deceitful and wicked (Jer. 17:9, 10); the _mind and conscience_ are defiled (Gen. 6:5; Titus 1:15); the _flesh and spirit_ are defiled (2 Cor. 7:5); the _will_ is enfeebled (Rom. 7:18); and we are utterly destitute of any Godlike qualities which meet the requirements of God's holiness (Rom. 7:18). What does all this mean? A. H. Strong, in his _Systematic Theology_, explains the matter somewhat as follows: It does not mean the entire absence of conscience (John 8:9); nor of all moral qualities (Mark 10:21); nor that men are prone to every kind of sin (for some sins exclude others). It does mean, however, that man is totally destitute of love to God which is the all absorbing commandment of the law (John 5:42); that the natural man has an aversion to God (Rom. 8:7); that all that is stated under (6) above is true of man; that man is in possession of a nature that is constantly on the downgrade, and from the dominion of which he is totally unable to free himself (Rom. 7:18, 23). [Illustration with caption: Handwritten notations of Rev. William Evans, Ph.D. D.D.] THE DOCTRINES OF SALVATION A. REPENTANCE. B. FAITH. C. REGENERATION. D. JUSTIFICATION. E. ADOPTION. F. SANCTIFICATION. G. PRAYER. THE DOCTRINES OF SALVATION. A. REPENTANCE. I. THE IMPORTANCE OF THE DOCTRINE. II. THE NATURE OF REPENTANCE. 1. AS TOUCHING THE INTELLECT. 2. AFFECTING THE EMOTIONS. 3. WILL. a) Confess Sin. b) Forsake Sin. c) Turn to God. III. HOW REPENTANCE IS PRODUCED. 1. DIVINE SIDE. 2. HUMAN SIDE. 3. QUESTION OF MEANS. IV. RESULTS OF REPENTANCE. 1. GODWARD. 2. MANWARD. A. REPENTANCE. I. THE IMPORTANCE OF THE DOCTRINE. The prominence given to the doctrine of Repentance in the Scriptures can hardly be overestimated. John the Baptist began his public ministry, as did Jesus also, with the call to repentance upon his lips (Matt. 3:1, 2; 4:17). When Jesus sent forth the twelve and the seventy messengers to proclaim the good news of the kingdom of heaven, He commanded them to preach repentance (Luke 24:47; Mark 6:12). Foremost in the preaching of the apostles was the doctrine of repentance; Peter, (Acts 2:38); Paul, (Acts 20:21). The burden of the heart of God, and His one command to all men everywhere, is that they should repent (2 Pet. 3:9; Acts 17:30). Indeed, failure on the part of man to heed God's call to repentance means that he shall utterly perish (Luke 13:3). Does the doctrine of repentance find such a prominent place in the preaching and teaching of today? Has the need for repentance diminished? Has God lessened or changed the terms of admission into His kingdom? II. THE NATURE OF REPENTANCE. There is a three-fold idea involved in true repentance: 1. AS TOUCHING THE INTELLECT. Matt. 21:29--"He answered and said: I will not; but afterward he repented, and went". The word here used for "repent" means to change one's mind, thought, purpose, views regarding a matter; it is to have another mind about a thing. So we may speak of it as a revolution touching our attitude and views towards sin and righteousness. This change is well illustrated in the action of the Prodigal Son, and of the Publican in the well-known story of the Pharisee and the Publican (Luke 15 and 18). Thus, when Peter, on the day of Pentecost, called upon the Jews to repent (Acts 2:14-40), he virtually called upon them to change their minds and their views regarding Christ. They had considered Christ to be a mere man, a blasphemer, an impostor. The events of the few preceding days had proven to them that He was none other than the righteous Son of God, their Saviour and the Saviour of the world. The result of their repentance or change of mind would be that they would receive Jesus Christ as their long promised Messiah. 2. AS TOUCHING THE EMOTIONS. 2 Cor. 7:9--"Now I rejoice, not that ye were made sorry, but that ye sorrowed to repentance; for ye were made sorry after a godly manner, that ye might receive damage by us in nothing." The context (vv. 7-11) shows what a large part the feelings played in true Gospel repentance. See also Luke 10:13; cf. Gen. 6:6. The Greek word for repentance in this connection means "to be a care to one afterwards," to cause one great concern. The Hebrew equivalent is even stronger, and means to pant, to sigh, to moan. So the publican "beat upon his breast," indicating sorrow of heart. Just how much emotion is necessary to true repentance no one can definitely say. But that a certain amount of heart movement, even though it be not accompanied with a flood of tears, or even a single tear, accompanies all true repentance is evident from the use of this word. See also Psa. 38:18. 3. AS TOUCHING THE WILL AND DISPOSITION. One of the Hebrew words for repent means "to turn." The prodigal said, "I will arise.... and he arose" (Luke 15:18, 20). He not only thought upon his ways, and felt sorry because of them, but he turned his steps in the direction of home. So that in a very real sense repentance is a crisis with a changed experience in view. Repentance is not only a heart broken _for_ sin, but _from_ sin also. We must forsake what we would have God remit. In the writings of Paul repentance is more of an experience than a single act. The part of the will and disposition in repentance is shown: a) In the Confession of Sin to God. Psa. 38:18--"For I will declare mine iniquity: I will be sorry for my sin." The publican beat upon his breast, and said, "God be merciful to me a sinner" (Luke 18:13). The prodigal said, "I have sinned against heaven" (Luke 15:21). There must be confession to man also in so far as man has been wronged in and by our sin (Matt. 5:23, 24; James 5:16). b) In the Forsaking of Sin. Isa. 55:7--"Let the wicked forsake his way, and the unrighteous man his thoughts; and let him return unto the Lord." Prov. 28:13; Matt. 3:8, 10. c) In Turning Unto God. It is not enough to turn away from sin; we must turn unto God; 1 Thess. 1:9; Acts 26:18. III. HOW REPENTANCE IS PRODUCED. 1. IT IS A DIVINE GIFT. Acts 11:18--"Then hath God also to the Gentiles granted repentance unto life." 2 Tim. 2:25--"If God peradventure will give them repentance to the acknowledging of the truth." Acts 5:30, 31. Repentance is not something which one can originate within himself, or can pump up within himself as one would pump water out of a well. It is a divine gift. How then is man responsible for not having it? We are called upon to repent in order that we may feel our own inability to do so, and consequently be thrown upon God and petition Him to perform this work of grace in our hearts. 2. YET THIS DIVINE GIFT IS BROUGHT ABOUT THROUGH THE USE OF MEANS. Acts 2:37, 38, 41. The very Gospel which calls for repentance produces it. How well this is illustrated in the experience of the people of Nineveh (Jonah 3:5-10)! When they heard the preaching of the word of God by Jonah they believed the message and turned unto God. Not any message, but the Gospel is the instrument that God uses to bring about this desired end. Furthermore, this message must be preached in the power of the Holy Spirit (1 Thess. 1:5-10). Rom. 2:4--"Or despisest thou the riches of his goodness and forbearance and long-suffering; not knowing that the goodness of God leadeth thee to repentance?" Also 2 Pet. 3:9. Prosperity too often leads away from God, but it is the divine intention that it should lead to God. Revivals come mostly in times of panic. Rev. 3:19; Heb. 12:6, 10, 11. The chastisements of God are sometimes for the purpose of bringing His wandering children back to repentance. 2 Tim. 2:24, 25. God oftentimes uses the loving, Christian reproof of a brother to be the means of bringing us back to God. IV. THE RESULTS OF REPENTANCE. 1. ALL HEAVEN IS MADE GLAD. Luke 15:7, 10. Joy in heaven, and in the presence of the angels of God. Makes glad the heart of God, and sets the bells of heaven ringing. Who are those "in the presence of the angels of God"? Do the departed loved ones know anything about it? 2. IT BRINGS PARDON AND FORGIVENESS OF SIN. Isa. 55:7; Acts 3:19. Outside of repentance the prophets and apostles know of no way of securing pardon. No sacrifices, nor religious ceremonies can secure it. Not that repentance merits forgiveness, but it is a condition of it. Repentance qualifies a man for a pardon, but it does not entitle him to it. 3. THE HOLY SPIRIT IS POURED OUT UPON THE PENITENT. Acts 2:38--"Repent... and ye shall receive the gift of the Holy Ghost." Impenitence keeps back the full incoming of the Spirit into the heart. B. FAITH. I. THE IMPORTANCE OF THE DOCTRINE. II. THE DEFINITION OF FAITH. 1. IN GENERAL: a) Knowledge. b) Assent. c) Appropriation. 2. IN PARTICULAR: a) Towards God. b) Towards Christ. c) In Prayer. d) In the Word of God. 3. RELATION OF FAITH TO WORKS. III. THE SOURCE OF FAITH. 1. THE DIVINE SIDE. 2. THE HUMAN SIDE. 3. MEANS USED. IV. SOME RESULTS OF FAITH. 1. SAVED. 2. JOY AND PEACE. 3. DO GREAT WORKS. B. FAITH. I. THE IMPORTANCE OF THE DOCTRINE. Faith is fundamental in Christian creed and conduct. It was the one thing which above all others Christ recognized as the paramount virtue. The Syrophoenician woman (Matt. 15) had perseverance; the centurion (Matt. 8), humility; the blind man (Mark 10), earnestness. But what Christ saw and rewarded in each of these cases was faith. Faith is the foundation of Peter's spiritual temple (2 Pet. 1:5-7); and first in Paul's trinity of graces (1 Cor. 13:13). In faith all the other graces find their source. II. THE DEFINITION OF FAITH. Faith is used in the Scriptures in a general and in a particular sense. 1. ITS GENERAL MEANING: a) Knowledge. Psa. 9:10--"And they that know thy name will put their trust in thee." Rom. 10:17--"So then faith cometh by hearing, and hearing by the word of God." Faith is not believing a thing without evidence; on the contrary faith rests upon the best of evidence, namely, the Word of God. An act of faith denotes a manifestation of the intelligence: "How shall they believe in him of whom they have not heard?" Faith is no blind act of the soul; it is not a leap in the dark. Such a thing as believing with the heart without the head is out of the question. A man may believe with his head without believing with his heart; but he cannot believe with his heart without believing with his head too. The heart, in the Scriptures, means the whole man--intellect, sensibilities, and will. "As a man _thinketh_ in his heart." "Why _reason_ ye these things in your hearts?" b) Assent. Mark 12:32--"And the scribe said unto him, Well, Master, thou hast said the truth." So was it with the faith which Christ demanded in His miracles: "Believe ye that I am able to do this?" "Yea, Lord." There must not only be the knowledge that Jesus is able to save, and that He is the Saviour of the world; there must be also an assent of the heart to all these claims. Those who, _receiving_ Christ to be all that He claimed to be, _believed_ in Him, became thereby sons of God (John 1:12). c) Appropriation. John 1:12; 2:24. There must be an appropriation of the things which we know and assent to concerning the Christ and His work. Intelligent perception is not faith. A man may know Christ as divine, and yet aside from that reject him as Saviour. Knowledge affirms the reality of these things but neither accepts nor rejects them. Nor is assent faith. There is an assent of the mind which does not convey a surrender of the heart and affections. Faith is the consent of the will to the assent of the understanding. Faith always has in it the idea of action--movement towards its object. It is the soul leaping forth to embrace and appropriate the Christ in whom it believes. It first says: "My Lord and my God," and then falls down and worships. A distinction between believing about Christ and on Christ is made in John 8:30, 31, R. V.--"Many believed _on_ him.... Jesus therefore said to those Jews that had believed _him_." S. THE MEANING OF FAITH IN PARTICULAR: a) When Used in Connection with the Name of God. Heb. 11:6--"But without faith it is impossible to please him; for he that cometh to God must believe that he is, and that he is a rewarder of them that diligently seek him." Also Acts 27:22-25; Rom. 4:19-21 with Gen. 15:4-6. There can be no dealings with the invisible God unless there is absolute faith in His existence. We must believe in His reality, even though He is unseen. But we must believe even more than the fact of His existence; namely, that He is a rewarder, that He will assuredly honor with definite blessing those who approach unto Him in prayer. Importunity will, of course, be needed (Luke 11:5-10). There must be confidence in the Word of God also. Faith believes all that God says as being absolutely true, even though circumstances seem to be against its fulfillment. b) When Used in Connection with the Person and Work of Christ. Recall the three elements in faith, and apply them here. First, there must be a _knowledge_ of the claims of Christ as to His person and mission in the world: As to His person--that He is deity, John 9:35-38; 10:30; Phil. 2:6-ll. As to His work--Matt. 20:28; 26:26-28; Luke 24:27, 44. Second, there must be an _assent_ to all these claims, John 16:30; 20:28; Matt. 16:16; John 6:68, 69. Third, there must be a personal _appropriation_ of Christ as being all that He claims to be, John 1:12, 8:21, 24; 5:24. There must be surrender to a person, and not mere faith in a creed. Faith in a doctrine must lead to faith in a person, and that person Jesus Christ, if salvation is to be the result of such belief. So Martha was led to substitute faith in a doctrine for faith in a person (John 11:25). It is such faith--consisting of knowledge, assent, and appropriation --that saves. This is believing with the heart (Rom. 10:9,10). c) When Used in Connection with Prayer. Three passages may be used to set forth this relationship: 1 John 5:14, 15; James 1:5-7, Mark 11:24. There must be no hesitation which balances between belief and unbelief, and inclines toward the latter--tossed one moment upon the shore of faith and hope, the next tossed back again into the abyss of unbelief. To "doubt" means to reason whether or no the thing concerning which you are making request can be done (Acts 10:20; Rom. 4:20). Such a man only conjectures; he does not really believe. Real faith thanks God for the thing asked for, if that thing is in accord with the will of God, even before it receives it (Mark 11:24). Note the slight: "that man." We must recognize the fact that knowledge, assent, and appropriation exist here also. We must understand the promises on which we base our prayer; we must believe that they are worth their full face value; and then step out upon them, thereby giving substance to that which, at the moment may be unseen, and, perchance, nonexistent, so far as our knowledge and vision are concerned, but which to faith is a splendid reality. d) When Used in Connection with the Word and Promise of God. First, we should know whether the particular promise in question is intended for us in particular. There is a difference in a promise being written _for_ us and _to_ us. There are dispensational aspects to many of the promises in the Bible, therefore we must rightly divide, apportion, and appropriate the Word of God (cf. I Cor. 10:32). Second, when once we are persuaded that a promise is _for_ us, we must believe that God means all He says in that promise; we must assent to all its truth; we must not diminish nor discount it. God will not, cannot lie (Titus 1:2). Third, we must appropriate and act upon the promises. Herein lies the difference between belief and faith. Belief is mental; faith adds the volitional; we may have belief without the will, but not faith. Belief is a realm of thought; faith is a sphere of action. Belief lives in the study; faith comes out into the market-places and the streets. Faith substantiates belief--gives substance, life, reality, and activity to it (Heb. 11:1). Faith puts belief into active service, and connects possibilities with actualities. Faith is acting upon what you believe; it is appropriation. Faith counts every promise valid, and gilt-edged (Heb. 11:11); no trial can shake it (11:35); it is so absolute that it survives the loss of its own pledge even (11:17). For illustration, see I Kings 18:41-43. 3. THE RELATION OF FAITH TO WORKS. There is no merit in faith alone. It is not mere faith that saves, but faith in Christ. Faith in any other saviour but Christ will not save. Faith in any other gospel than that of the New Testament will not save (Gal. 1:8, 9). There is no contradiction between Paul and James touching the matter of faith and works (cf. James 2:14-26; Rom. 4:1-12). Paul is looking at the matter from the Godward side, and asserts that we are justified, in the sight of God, _meritoriously_, without absolutely any works on our part. James considers the matter from the manward side, and asserts that we are justified, in the sight of man, _evidentially_, by works, and not by faith alone (2:24). In James it is not the _ground_ of justification, as in Paul, but the _demonstration_. See under Justification, II. 4, p. 159. III. THE SOURCE OF FAITH. There are two sides to this phase of the subject--a divine and a human side. 1. IT IS THE WORK OF THE TRIUNE GOD. _God the Father_: Rom. 12:3; I Cor. 12. This is true of faith both in its beginning (Phil. 1:29) and its development (1 Cor. 12). Faith, then, is a gift of His grace. _God the Son_: Heb. 12:2--"Looking unto Jesus the author and finisher of our faith." (Illustration, Matt. 14:30, 31--Peter taking his eyes off Christ.) I Cor. 12; Luke 17:5. _God the Spirit_: Gal. 5:22; I Cor. 12:9. The Holy Spirit is the executive of the Godhead. Why then, if faith is the work of the Godhead, are we responsible for not having it? God wills to work faith in all His creatures, and will do so if they do not resist His Holy Spirit. We are responsible, therefore, not so much for the lack of faith, but for resisting the Spirit who will create faith in our hearts if we will permit Him to do so. 2. THERE IS ALSO A HUMAN SIDE TO FAITH. Rom. 10:17--"So then faith cometh by hearing, and hearing by the word of God." (cf. the context, vv. 9-21.) Acts 4:4--"Howbeit many of them which heard the word believed." In this instance the _spoken_ word, the Gospel, is referred to; in other cases the written Word, the Scriptures, are referred to as being instrumental in producing faith. See also Gal. 3:2-5. It was a looking unto the promises of God that brought such faith into the heart of Abraham (Rom. 4:19). Prayer also is an instrument in the development of faith. Luke is called the _human_ Gospel because it makes so much of prayer, especially in connection with faith: 22:32--"But I have prayed for thee that thy faith fail not." 17:5--"And the apostles said unto the Lord, Increase our faith." See also Mark 9:24; Matt. 17:19-21. Our faith grows by the use of the faith we already have. Luke 17:5, 6; Matt. 25:39. IV. SOME RESULTS OF FAITH. 1. WE ARE SAVED BY FAITH. We, of course, recall that the saving power of faith resides not in itself, but in the Almighty Saviour on whom it rests; so that, properly speaking, it is not so much faith, as it is faith in Christ that saves. The whole of our salvation--past, present, and future, is dependent upon faith. Our acceptance of Christ (John 1:12); our justification (Rom. 5:1); our adoption (Gal. 3:26); our sanctification (Acts 26:18); our keeping (1 Pet. 1:5), indeed our whole salvation from start to finish is dependent upon faith. 2. REST, PEACE, ASSURANCE, JOY. Isa. 26:3; Phil. 4:6; Rom. 5:1; Heb. 4:1-3; John 14:1; 1 Pet. 1:8. Fact, faith, feeling--this is God's order. Satan would reverse this order and put feeling before faith, and thus confuse the child of God. We should march in accord with God's order: Fact leads, Faith with its eye on Fact, following, and Feeling with the eye on Faith bringing up the rear. All goes well as long as this order is observed. But the moment Faith turns his back on Fact, and looks at Feeling, the procession wabbles. Steam is of main importance, not for sounding the whistle, but for moving the wheels; and if there is a lack of steam we shall not remedy it by attempting by our own effort to move the piston or blow the whistle, but by more water in the boiler, and more fire under it. Feed Faith with Facts, not with Feeling.--_A. T. Pierson_. 3. DO EXPLOITS THROUGH FAITH. Heb. 11:32-34; Matt. 21:21; John 14:12. Note the wonderful things done by the men of faith as recorded in the eleventh chapter of Hebrews. Read vv. 32-40. Jesus attributes a kind of omnipotence to faith. The disciple, by faith, will be able to do greater things than his Master. Here is a mighty Niagara of power for the believer. The great question for the Christian to answer is not "What can I do?" but "How much can I believe?" for "all things are possible to him that believeth." C. REGENERATION, OR THE NEW BIRTH. I. ITS NATURE. 1. NOT BAPTISM. 2. NOT REFORMATION. 3. A SPIRITUAL QUICKENING. 4. AN IMPARTATION OF A DIVINE NATURE. 5. A NEW AND DIVINE IMPULSE. II. ITS NECESSITY. 1. UNIVERSAL. 2. THE SINFUL CONDITION OF MAN DEMANDS IT. 3. THE HOLINESS OF GOD DEMANDS IT. III. THE MEANS. 1. THE DIVINE SIDE. 2. THE HUMAN SIDE. 3. THE MEANS USED. C. REGENERATION, OR THE NEW BIRTH. It is of the utmost importance that we have a clear understanding of this vital doctrine. By Regeneration we are admitted into the kingdom of God. There is no other way of becoming a Christian but by being born from above. This doctrine, then, is the door of entrance into Christian discipleship. He who does not enter here, does not enter at all. I. THE NATURE OF REGENERATION. Too often do we find other things substituted by man for God's appointed means of entrance into the kingdom of heaven. It will be well for us then to look, first of all, at some of these substitutes. 1. REGENERATION IS NOT BAPTISM. It is claimed that John 3:5--"Except a man be born of water and of the Spirit," and Titus 3:5--"The washing of regeneration," teach that regeneration may occur in connection with baptism. These passages, however, are to be understood in a figurative sense, as meaning the cleansing power of the Word of God. See also Eph. 5:26--"With the washing of water by (or in) the word"; John 15:3--"Clean through the word." That the Word of God is an agent in regeneration is clear from James 1:18, and 1 Pet. 1:23. If baptism and regeneration were identical, why should the Apostle Paul seem to make so little of that rite (1 Cor. 4:15, and compare with it 1 Cor. 1:14)? In the first passage Paul asserts that he had _begotten_ them through the Gospel; and in 1:14 he declares that he _baptized none of them_ save Crispus and Gaius. Could he thus speak of baptism if it had been the means through which they had been begotten again? Simon Magus was baptized (Acts 8), but was he saved? Cornelius (Acts 11) was saved even before he was baptized. 2. REFORMATION IS NOT REGENERATION. Regeneration is not a natural forward step in man's development; it is a supernatural act of God; it is a spiritual crisis. It is not evolution, but involution--the communication of a new life. It is a revolution--a change of direction resulting from that life. Herein lies the danger in psychology, and in the statistics regarding the number of conversions during the period of adolescence. The danger lies in the tendency to make regeneration a natural phenomenon, an advanced step in the development of a human life, instead of regarding it as a crisis. Such a psychological view of regeneration denies man's sin, his need of Christ, the necessity of an atonement, and the regenerating work of the Holy Spirit. 3. REGENERATION IS A SPIRITUAL QUICKENING, A NEW BIRTH. Regeneration is the impartation of a new and divine life; a new creation; the production of a new thing. It is Gen. 1:26 over again. It is not the old nature altered, reformed, or re-invigorated, but a new birth from above. This is the teaching of such passages as John 3:3-7; 5:21; Eph. 2:1, 10; 2 Cor. 5:17. By nature man is dead in sin (Eph. 2:1); the new birth imparts to him new life--the life of God, so that henceforth he is as those that are alive from the dead; he has passed out of death into life (John 5:24). 4. IT IS THE IMPARTATION OF A NEW NATURE--GOD'S NATURE. In regeneration we are made partakers of the divine nature (2 Pet. 1:4). We have put on the new man, which after God is created in holiness and righteousness (Eph. 4:11; Col. 3:10). Christ now lives in the believer (Gal. 2:20). God's seed now abides in him (1 John 3:9). So that henceforth the believer is possessed of two natures (Gal. 5:17). 5. A NEW AND DIVINE IMPULSE IS GIVEN TO THE BELIEVER. Thus regeneration is a crisis with a view to a process. A new governing power comes into the regenerate man's life by which he is enabled to become holy in experience: "Old things are passed away; behold all things are become new" (2 Cor. 5:17). See also Acts 16:14, and Ezek. 36:25-27, 1 John 3:6-9. II. THE IMPERATIVE NECESSITY OF THE NEW BIRTH. 1. THE NECESSITY IS UNIVERSAL. The need is as far reaching as sin and the human race: "Except a man (lit. anybody) be born again, he cannot see the kingdom of God" (John 3:3, cf. v. 5). No age, sex, position, condition exempts anyone from this necessity. Not to be born again is to be lost. There is no substitute for the new birth: "Neither circumcision availeth anything, nor uncircumcision, but a new creature" (Gal. 6:15). The absolute necessity is clearly stated by our Lord: whatever is born of the flesh, must be born again of the Spirit (John 3:3-7). 2. THE SINFUL CONDITION OF MAN DEMANDS IT. John 3:6--"That which is born of the flesh is flesh"--and it can never, by any human process, become anything else. "Can the Ethiopian change his skin, or the leopard his spots? then may ye also do good that are accustomed to do evil" (Jer. 13:23). "They that are in the flesh cannot please God" (Rom. 8:8); in our "flesh dwelleth no good thing" (Rom. 7:18). The mind is darkened so that we cannot apprehend spiritual truth; we need a renewing of the mind (Rom. 12:2). The heart is deceitful, and does not welcome God; we need to be pure in heart to see God. There is no thought of God before the eyes of the natural man; we need a change in nature that we may be counted among those "who thought upon His name." No education or culture can bring about such a needed change. God alone can do it. 3. THE HOLINESS OF GOD DEMANDS IT. If without holiness no man shall see the Lord (Heb. 12:14); and if holiness is not to be attained by any natural development or self-effort, then the regeneration of our nature is absolutely necessary. This change, which enables us to be holy, takes place when we are born again. Man is conscious that he does not have this holiness by nature; he is conscious, too, that he must have it in order to appear before God (Ezra 9:15). The Scriptures corroborate this consciousness in man, and, still further, state the necessity of such a righteousness with which to appear before God. In the new birth alone is the beginning of such a life to be found. To live the life of God we must have the nature of God. III. THE MEANS OF REGENERATION. 1. REGENERATION IS A DIVINE WORK. We are "born, not of blood, nor of the will of the flesh, nor of the will of man, _but of God"_ (John 1:13). It was of His own will he begat us (Jas. 1:18): Our regeneration is a creative act on the part of God, not a reforming process on the part of man. It is not brought about by natural descent, for all we get from that is "flesh." It is not by natural choice, for the human will is impotent. Nor is it by self-effort, or any human generative principle. Nor is it by the blood of any ceremonial sacrifices. It is not by pedigree or natural generation. It is altogether and absolutely the work of God. Practically speaking, we have no more to do with our second birth, than we had to do with our first birth. The Holy Spirit is the Divine Agent in our regeneration. For this reason it is called the "renewing of the Holy Ghost" (Tit. 3:5). We are "born of the Spirit" (John 3:5). 2. AND YET THERE IS A HUMAN SIDE TO THE WORK. John 1:12 and 13 bring together these two thoughts--the divine and the human in regeneration: Those who _received_ Him (i. e., Christ)....were born _of God._ The two great problems connected with regeneration are the efficiency of God and the activity of man. a) Man Is Regenerated by Means of the Acceptance of the Message of the Gospel. God begat us by "the word of truth" (James 1:18). We are "born again," says Peter (1 Ep. 1:23), "of incorruptible seed, by the word of God." We are "begotten through the gospel" (1 Cor. 4:15). These scriptures teach us that regeneration takes place in the heart of man when he reads or hears the Word of God, or the Gospel message, or both, and, because of the Spirit working in the Word as well as in the heart of man, the man opens his heart and receives that message as the Word of life to his soul. The truth is illuminated, as is also the mind, by the Spirit; the man yields to the truth, and is born again. Of course, even here, we must remember that it is the Lord who must open our hearts just as He opened the heart of Lydia (Acts 16:14). But the Word must be believed and received by man. 1 Pet. 1:25. b) Man Is Regenerated by the Personal Acceptance of Jesus Christ. This is the clear teaching of John 1:12, 13 and Gal. 3:26. We become "children of God by faith in Jesus Christ." When a man, believing in the claims of Jesus Christ receives Him to be all that He claimed to be--that man is born again. Man therefore is not wholly passive at the time of his regeneration. He is passive only as to the change of his ruling disposition. With regard to the exercise of this disposition he is active. A dead man cannot assist in his own resurrection, it is true; but he may, and can, like Lazarus, obey Christ's command, and "Come forth!" Psa. 90:16, 17 illustrates both the divine and human part: "Let _thy_ work appear unto thy servants," and then "the work of _our_ hands establish thou it." God's work appears first, then man's. So Phil. 2:12,13. D. JUSTIFICATION. I. ITS MEANING. 1. RELATIVELY. 2. SCRIPTURALLY. 3. PARDON--RIGHTEOUSNESS. II. ITS METHOD. 1. NOT BY LAW. 2. BY GOD'S FREE GRACE. 3. THE BLOOD OF CHRIST. 4. FAITH. D. JUSTIFICATION. I. THE MEANING OF JUSTIFICATION. 1. RELATIVELY. It is a change in a man's relation or standing before God. It has to do with relations that have been disturbed by sin, and these relations are personal. It is a change from guilt and condemnation to acquittal and acceptance. Regeneration has to do with the change of the believer's nature; Justification, with the change of his standing before God. Regeneration is subjective; Justification is objective. The former has to do with man's state; the latter, with his standing. 2. ACCORDING TO THE LANGUAGE AND USAGE OF THE SCRIPTURES. According to Deut. 25:1 it means to declare, or to cause to appear innocent or righteous; Rom. 4:2-8: to reckon righteous; Psa. 32:2: not to impute iniquity. One thing at least is clear from these verses, and that is, that to justify does not mean to _make_ one righteous. Neither the Hebrew nor Greek words will bear such meaning. To justify means to set forth as righteous; to declare righteous in a legal sense; to put a person in a right relation. It does not deal, at least not directly, with character or conduct; it is a question of relationship. Of course both character and conduct will be conditioned and controlled by this relationship. No real righteousness on the part of the person justified is to be asserted, but that person is declared to be righteous and is treated as such. Strictly speaking then, Justification is the judicial act of God whereby those who put faith in Christ are declared righteous in His eyes, and free from guilt and punishment. 3. JUSTIFICATION CONSISTS OF TWO ELEMENTS. a) The Forgiveness of Sin, and the Removal of Its Guilt and Punishment. It is difficult for us to understand God's feeling towards sin. To us forgiveness seems easy, largely because we are indifferent towards sin. But to a holy God it is different. Even men sometimes find it hard to forgive when wronged. Nevertheless God gladly forgives. Micah 7:18,19--"Who is a God like unto thee, that pardoneth iniquity, and passeth by the transgression of the remnant of his heritage? he retaineth not his anger forever, because he delighteth in mercy . . . . he will subdue our iniquities; and thou wilt cast all their sins into the depths of the sea." See also Psa. 130:4. What a wondrous forgiveness! Forgiveness may be considered as the cessation of the moral anger and resentment of God against sin; or as a release from the guilt of sin which oppresses the conscience; or, again, as a remission of the punishment of sin, which is eternal death. In Justification, then, all our sins are forgiven, and the guilt and punishment thereof removed (Acts 13:38, 39; Rom. 8:1). God sees the believer as without sin and guilt in Christ (Num. 23:21; Rom. 8:33, 34). b) The Imputation of Christ's Righteousness, and Restoration to God's Favor. The forgiven sinner is not like the discharged prisoner who has served out his term and is discharged from further punishment, but with no rights of citizenship. No, justification means much more than acquittal. The repentant sinner receives back in his pardon, the full rights of citizenship. The Society of Friends called themselves Friends, not because they were friends one to another but because, being justified, they counted themselves friends of God as was Abraham (2 Chron. 20:7, James 2:23). There is also the imputation of the righteousness of Jesus Christ to the sinner. His righteousness is "unto all and upon all them that believe" (Rom. 3:22). See Rom. 5:17-21; 1 Cor. 1:30. For illustration, see Philemon 18. II. THE METHOD OF JUSTIFICATION. 1. NEGATIVELY: NOT BY WORKS OF THE LAW. Rom. 3:20--"Therefore by the deeds of the law there shall no flesh be justified in his sight; for by the law is the knowledge of sin." "Therefore" implies that a judicial trial has taken place and a judgment pronounced. At the bar of God no man can be counted righteous in His sight because of his obedience to law. The burden of the Epistle to the Romans is to set forth this great truth. As a means of establishing right relations with God the law is totally insufficient. There is no salvation _by_ character. What men need is salvation _from_ character. The reason why the law cannot justify is here stated: "For by the law is the knowledge of sin." The law can open the sinner's eyes to his sin, but it cannot remove it. Indeed, it was never intended to remove it, but to intensify it. The law simply defines sin, and makes it sinful, yea, exceedingly sinful, but it does not emancipate from it. Gal. 3:10 gives us a further reason why justification cannot take place by obedience to the law. The law demands perfect and continual obedience: "Cursed is every one that continueth not in all things which are written in the book of the law to do them." No man can render a perfect and perpetual obedience, therefore justification by obedience to the law is impossible. The only thing the law can do is to stop the mouth of every man, and declare him guilty before God (Rom. 3:19, 20). Gal. 2:16, and 3:10, Rom. 3:28, are very explicit in their denial of justification by law. It is a question of Moses or Christ, works or faith, law or promise, doing or believing, wages or a free gift. 2. POSITIVELY: BY GOD'S PEEE GRACE--THE ORIGIN OR SOURCE OF JUSTIFICATION. Rom. 3:24--"Being justified freely by his grace through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus." "Freely" denotes that it is granted without anything done on our part to merit or deserve it. From the contents of the epistle up to this point it must be clearly evident that if men, sinful and sinning, are to be justified at all, it must be "by his free grace." 3. BY THE BLOOD OF JESUS CHRIST--THE GROUND OF JUSTIFICATION. Rom. 3:24--"Being justified . . . . through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus." 5:9--"Much more then, being now justified by his blood." 2 Cor. 5:21 (R. V.)--"Him who knew no sin he made to be sin on our behalf; that we might become the righteousness of God in him." The bloodshedding of Christ is here connected with justification. It is impossible to get rid of this double idea from this passage. The sacrifices of the Old Testament were more than a meaningless butchery--"Without shedding of blood is no remission" of sin (Heb. 9:22). The great sacrifice of the New Testament, the death of Jesus Christ, was something more than the death of a martyr--men are "justified by his blood" (Rom. 5:9). 4. BY BELIEVING IN JESUS CHRIST--THE CONDITION OF JUSTIFICATION. Gal. 2:16--"Knowing that a man is not justified by the works of the law, but by the faith of Jesus Christ," or as the Revised Version margin has it: "But only through faith in Jesus Christ." Rom. 3:26--"To declare, I say, at this time his righteousness; that he might be just, and the justifier of him which believeth in Jesus." "Him that believeth in Jesus" is contrasted with "as many as are of the works of the law" (Gal. 3:10). When Paul in Romans 4:5 says: "Now to him that worketh not, but believeth on him that justifieth the ungodly," he gives the death-blow to Jewish righteousness. "His faith is counted for righteousness;" that pictures the man who, despairing of all dependence upon his works, casts himself unreservedly upon the mercy of God, as set forth in Jesus Christ, for his justification. Thus it come to pass that "all that believe are justified from all things, from which ye could not be justified by the law of Moses" (Acts 13:39). The best of men need to be saved by faith in Jesus Christ, and the worst need only that. As there is no difference in the need, neither is there in the method of its application. On this common ground all saved sinners meet, and will stand forever. The first step, then, in justification is to despair of works; the second, to believe on him that justifieth the ungodly. We are not to slight good works, for they have their place, but they follow, not precede justification. The workingman is not the justified man, but the justified man is the workingman. Works are not meritorious, but they meet with their reward in the life of the justified. The tree _shows_ its life by its fruits, but it was alive before the fruit or even the leaves appeared. (See under Faith, II. 3, p. 148, for further suggestions regarding the relation between faith and works.) Summing up we may say that men are justified _judicially_ by God. (Rom. 8:33); _meritoriously_ by Christ, (Isa. 53:11); _mediately_ by _faith_, (Rom. 5:1); _evidentially_ by works, (James 2:14, 18-24). THE DOCTRINES OF SALVATION E. ADOPTION. I. THE MEANING OF ADOPTION. 1. ETYMOLOGICALLY. 2. SCRIPTURALLY. II. THE TIME OF ADOPTION. 1. ETERNAL. 2. WHEN ONE BELIEVES. 3. COMPLETE AT RESURRECTION. III. THE BLESSINGS OF ADOPTION. 1. FILIAL. 2. EXPERIMENTAL. IV. SOME EVIDENCES OF SONSHIP. 1. GUIDANCE. 2. CONFIDENCE. 3. ACCESS. 4. LOVE FOR THE BRETHREN. 5. OBEDIENCE. E. ADOPTION. Regeneration begins the new life in the soul; justification deals with the new attitude of God towards that soul, or perhaps better, of that soul towards God; adoption admits man into the family of God with filial joy. Regeneration has to do with our change in nature; justification, with our change in standing; sanctification, with our change in character; adoption, with our change in position. In regeneration the believer becomes a child of God (John 1:12,13); in adoption, the believer, already a child, receives a place as an adult son; thus the child becomes a son, the minor becomes an adult (Gal. 4:1-7). I. THE MEANING OF ADOPTION. Adoption means _ the placing of a son_. It is a legal metaphor as regeneration is a physical one. It is a Roman word, for adoption was hardly, if at all, known among the Jews. It means the taking by one man of the son of another to be his son, so that that son has the same position and all the advantages of a son by birth. The word is Pauline, not Johannine. The word is never once used of Christ. It is used of the believer when the question of rights, privileges, and heirship are involved. It is peculiarly a Pauline word (Gal. 4:5; Rom. 8:15, 23; 9:4; Eph. 1:5). John uses the word "children," not "sons," because he is always speaking of sonship from the standpoint of nature, growth, and likeness (cf. 1 John 3:1, R. V.). Exodus 2:10 and Heb. 11:24, furnish two splendid illustrations of the Scriptural sense and use of adoption. II. THE TIME WHEN ADOPTION TAKES PLACE. 1. IN A CERTAIN SENSE IT IS ETERNAL IN ITS NATURE. Eph. 1:4, 5--Before the foundation of the world we were predestinated unto the adoption of children. We need to distinguish between the foreordaining to adoption, and the actual act of adoption which took place when we believed in Christ. Just as the incarnation was foreordained, and yet took place in time; and just as the Lamb was slain from before the foundation of the word, and yet actually only on Calvary. Why then mention this eternal aspect of adoption? To exclude works and to show that our salvation had its origin solely in the grace of God (Rom. 9:11; 11:5, 6). Just as if we should adopt a child it would be a wholly gracious act on our part. 2. IT TAKES PLACE THE MOMENT ONE BELIEVES IN JESUS CHRIST. 1 John 3:2--"Beloved, now are we the sons of God." Gal. 3:26--"For ye are all the children of God by faith in Christ Jesus." See also John 1:12. Sonship is now the present possession of the believer. Strange as it may be, inconceivable as it may seem, it is nevertheless true. The world may not think so (v. 1), but God says so, and the Christian believing it, exclaims, "I'm the child of a King." Formerly we were slaves; now we are sons. 3. OUR SONSHIP WILL BE COMPLETED AT THE RESURRECTION AND COMING AGAIN OF OUR LORD JESUS CHRIST. Rom. 8:23--"Waiting for the adoption, to-wit, the redemption, of the body." Here in this world we are _incognito_; we are not recognized as sons of God. But some day we shall throw off this disguise (2 Cor. 5:10). It doth not appear, it hath not yet appeared what we shall be; the revelation of the sons of God is reserved for a future day. See also I John 3:1-3. III. THE BLESSINGS OF ADOPTION. The blessings of adoption are too numerous to mention save in the briefest way. Some of them are as follows: Objects of God's peculiar love (John 17:23), and His fatherly care (Luke 12:27-33). We have the family name (1 John 3:1; Eph. 3:14, 15), the family likeness (Rom. 8:29); family love (John 13:35; 1 John 3:14); a filial spirit (Rom. 8:15; Gal. 4:6); a family service (John 14:23, 24; 15:8). We receive fatherly chastisement (Heb. 12:5-11); fatherly comfort (Isa. 66:13; 2 Cor. 1:4), and an inheritance (1 Pet. 1:3-5; Rom. 8:17). IV. SOME EVIDENCES OF SONSHIP. Those who are adopted into God's family are: Led by the Spirit (Rom. 8:4; Gal. 5:18). Have a childlike confidence in God (Gal. 4:5, 6). Have liberty of access (Eph. 3:12). Have love for the brethren (1 John 2:9-11; 5:1). Are obedient (1 John 5:1-3). F. SANCTIFICATION. I. ITS MEANING. 1. NEGATIVELY--SEPARATION FROM EVIL. 2. POSITIVELY--DEDICATION UNTO GOD. 3. USED OF THE DIVINE NATURE. II. WHEN IT TAKES PLACE. 1. INSTANT. 2. PROGRESSIVE. 3. COMPLETE. III. THE MEANS. 1. DIVINE. 2. HUMAN. 3. MEANS USED. F. SANCTIFICATION. If Regeneration has to do with our nature, Justification with our standing, and Adoption with our position, then Sanctification has to do with our character and conduct. In Justification we are declared righteous in order that, in Sanctification, we may become righteous. Justification is what God does for us, while Sanctification is what God does in us. Justification puts us into a right relationship with God, while Sanctification exhibits the fruit of that relationship--a life separated from a sinful world and dedicated unto God. I. THE MEANING OF SANCTIFICATION. Two thoughts are prominent in this definition: separation from evil, and dedication unto God and His service. 1. SEPARATION FROM EVIL. 2 Chron. 29:5, 15-18--"Sanctify now yourselves, and sanctify the house of the Lord God . . . . and carry forth the filthiness out of the holy places. . . . And the priests went into the inner part of the house of the Lord, to cleanse it, and brought out all the uncleanness. . . .Then they went in to Hezekiah the king, and said, We have cleansed all the house of the Lord." 1 Thess. 4:3--"For this is the will of God, even your sanctification, that ye should abstain from fornication." See also Heb. 9:3; Exod. 19:20-22; Lev. 11:44. It is evident from these scriptures that sanctification has to do with the turning away from all that is sinful and that is defiling to both soul and body. 2. SEPARATION OR DEDICATION UNTO GOD. In this sense whatever is set apart from a profane to a sacred use, whatever is devoted exclusively to the service of God, is sanctified. So it follows that a man may "sanctify his house to be holy unto the Lord," or he may "sanctify unto the Lord some part of a field of his possession" (Lev. 27:14, 16). So also the first-born of all the children were sanctified unto the Lord (Num. 8:17). Even the Son of God Himself, in so far as He was set apart by the Father and sent into the world to do God's will, was sanctified (John 10:36). Whenever a thing or person is separated from the common relations of life in order to be devoted to the sacred, such is said to be sanctified. 3. IT IS USED OF GOD. Whenever the sacred writers desire to show that the Lord is absolutely removed from all that is sinful and unholy, and that He is absolutely holy in Himself they speak of Him as being sanctified: "When I shall be sanctified in you before their eyes" (Ezek. 36:23). II. THE TIME OF SANCTIFICATION. Sanctification may be viewed as past, present, and future; or instantaneous, progressive, and complete. 1. INSTANTANEOUS SANCTIFICATION. 1 Cor. 6:11--"And such were some of you: but ye are washed, but ye are sanctified, but ye are justified in the name of the Lord Jesus, and by the Spirit of our God." Heb. 10:10, 14--"By the which will we are sanctified through the offering of the body of Jesus Christ once for all. . . . For by one offering he hath perfected forever them that are sanctified." By the death of Jesus Christ the sanctification of the believer takes place at once. The very moment a man believes in Christ he is sanctified, that is, in this first sense: he is separated from sin and separated unto God. For this reason all through the New Testament believers are called saints (1 Cor. 1:2, R. V.; Rom. 1:7, R. V.). If a man is not a saint he is not a Christian; if he is a Christian he is a saint. In some quarters people are canonized after they are dead; the New Testament canonizes believers while they are alive. Note how that in 1 Cor. 6:11 "sanctified" is put before "justified." The believer grows _in_ sanctification rather than _into_ sanctification out of something else. By a simple act of faith in Christ the believer is at once put into a state of sanctification. Every Christian is a sanctified man. The same act that ushers him into the state of justification admits him at once into the state of sanctification, in which he is to grow until he reaches the fulness of the measure of the stature of Christ. 2. PROGRESSIVE SANCTIFICATION. Justification differs from Sanctification thus: the former is an instantaneous act with no progression; while the latter is a crisis with a view to a process--an act, which is instantaneous and which at the same time carries with it the idea of growth unto completion. 2 Pet. 3:18--"But grow in (the) grace, and in the knowledge of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ." 2 Cor. 3:18--We "are transformed into the same image from glory to glory, even as from the Lord the Spirit." The tense is interesting here: We are being transformed from one degree of character, or glory, to another. It is because sanctification is progressive, a growth, that we are exhorted to "increase and abound" (1 Thess. 3:12), and to "abound more and more" (4:1, 10) in the graces of the Christian life. The fact that there is always danger of contracting defilement by contact with a sinful world, and that there is, in the life of the true Christian, an ever increasing sense of duty and an ever-deepening consciousness of sin, necessitates a continual growth and development in the graces and virtues of the believer's life. There is such a thing as "perfecting holiness" (2 Cor. 7:1). God's gift to the church of pastors and teachers is for the purpose of the perfecting of the saints in the likeness of Christ _until_, at last, they attain unto the fulness of the divine standard, even Jesus Christ (Eph. 4:11-15). Holiness is not a mushroom growth; it is not the thing of an hour; it grows as the coral reef grows: little by little, degree by degree. See also Phil. 3:10-15. 3. COMPLETE AND FINAL SANCTIFICATION. 1 Thess. 5:23, R. V.--"And the God of peace himself sanctify you wholly; and may your spirit and soul and body be preserved entire, without blame at the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ." "Wholly" means complete in every part, perfect in every respect, whether it refers to the Church as a whole, or to the individual believer. Some day the believer is to be complete in all departments of Christian character--no Christian grace missing. Complete in the "spirit" which links him with heaven; in the "body" which links him with earth; in the "soul" as being that on which heaven and earth play. Maturity in each separate element of Christian character: body, soul, and spirit. This blessing of entire and complete sanctification is to take place when Christ comes: 1 Thess. 3:13--"To the end that he may establish your hearts unblameable in holiness before God, even our Father, at the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ with all his saints." It is when we shall see Him that we shall be like Him (1 John 3:2). How explicitly Paul puts the matter in Phil. 3:12-14, R. V. --"Not that I have already obtained, or am already made perfect: but I press on, if so be that I may lay hold of that for which also I was laid hold on by Christ Jesus. Brethren, I count not myself yet to have laid hold: but one thing I do, forgetting the things which are behind, and stretching forward to the things which are before, I press on toward the goal unto the prize of the high calling of God in Christ Jesus." III. THE MEANS OF SANCTIFICATION. How are men sanctified? What means are used, and what agencies employed to make men holy and conform them into the likeness of Christ? The agencies and means are both divine and human: both God and man contributing and co-operating towards this desired end. 1. FROM THE DIVINE SIDE: IT IS THE WORK OF THE TRIUNE GOD. a) God the Father. 1 Thess. 5:23, 24, R. V.--"And the God of peace himself sanctify you wholly. . . . Faithful is he that calleth you, who will also do it." God's work is here contrasted with human efforts to achieve the preceding injunctions. Just as in Hebrews 12:2, and Philippians 1:6, the Beginner of faith is also the Finisher; so is it here; consequently the end and aim of every exhortation is but to strengthen faith in God who is able to accomplish these things for us. Of course there is a sense in which the believer is responsible for his progress in the Christian life (Phil. 3:12, 13), yet it is nevertheless true that, after all, it is the divine grace which works all in him (Phil. 2:12, 13). We cannot purify ourselves, but we can yield to God and then the purity will come. The "God of peace," He who reconciles us--is the One who sanctifies us. It is as if the apostle said: "God, by His mighty power will do for you what I, by my admonitions, and you by your own efforts, cannot do." See also John 17:17--"Sanctify them through thy truth." Christ addresses God as the One who is to sanctify the disciples. b) Jesus Christ the Son. Heb. 10:10, R. V.--"By which will we have been sanctified through the offering of the body of Jesus Christ once for all." The death of Jesus Christ separates the believer from sin and the world, and sets him apart as redeemed and dedicated to the service of God. This same truth, namely, the sanctification of the church as based on the sacrificial death of Christ, is set forth in Eph. 5:25, 27--"Christ loved the church, and gave himself up for it; that he might sanctify it." Christ is "made unto us . . . sanctification" (1 Cor. 1:30). See also Heb. 13:12, R. V. c) The Holy Spirit Sanctifies. 1 Pet. 1:2--"Elect according to the foreknowledge of God the Father, through sanctification of the Spirit." 2 Thess. 2:13--". . . . Because God hath from the beginning chosen you to salvation through sanctification of the Spirit and belief of the truth." The Holy Spirit seals, attests, and confirms the work of grace in the soul by producing the fruits of righteousness therein. It is the Spirit of life in Christ Jesus who gives us freedom from the law of sin and death (Rom. 8:2). He is called the _Holy_ Spirit, not only because He is absolutely holy Himself, but also because he produces that quality of soul-character in the believer. The Spirit is the executive of the God-head for this very purpose. It is the Spirit's work to war against the lusts of the flesh and enable us to bring forth fruit unto holiness (Gal. 5:17-22). How wonderfully this truth is set forth in the contrast between the seventh and eighth chapters of Romans. Note the unsuccessful struggle of the former, and the victory of the latter. Note also that there is no mention of the Holy Spirit in the seventh, while He is mentioned about sixteen times in the eighth chapter. Herein lies the secret of failure and victory, sin and holiness. 2. FROM THE HUMAN SIDE. a) Faith in the Redemptive Work of Jesus Christ. 1 Cor. 1:30, R. V.--"But of him are ye in Christ Jesus, who was made unto us wisdom from God, and righteousness, and sanctification, and redemption." Christ is indeed all these things to us, but, in reality, He becomes such only as we appropriate Him for ourselves. Only as the believer, daily, yea, even momentarily, takes by faith the holiness of Jesus, His faith, His patience, His love, His grace, to be his own for the need of that very moment, can Christ, who by His death was made unto him sanctification in the instantaneous sense, become unto him sanctification in the progressive sense--producing in the believer His own life moment by moment. Herein lies the secret of a holy life--the momentarily appropriation of Jesus Christ in all the riches of His grace for every need as it arises. The degree of our sanctification is the proportion of our appropriation of Christ. See also Acts 26:18. b) The Study of the Scriptures and Obedience Thereto. John 17:17--"Sanctify them through thy truth: thy word is truth." Eph. 5:26--"That he might sanctify and cleanse it (i.e., the Church) with the washing of water by the word." John 15:3--"Now ye are clean through the word which I have spoken unto you." Our sanctification is limited by our limitation in the knowledge of and our lack of obedience to the Word of God. How does the Word of God sanctify? By revealing sin; by awakening conscience; by revealing the character of Christ; by showing the example of Christ; by offering the influences and powers of the Holy Spirit, and by setting forth spiritual motives and ideals. There is no power like that of the Word of God for detaching a man from the world, the flesh and the devil. c) Various Other Agencies. Heb. 12:14, R. V.--"Follow after . . . the sanctification without which no man shall see the Lord." To "follow after" means to pursue, to persecute, as Saul of Tarsus pursued and followed the early Christians. One cannot become a saint in his sleep. Holiness must be the object of his pursuit. The lazy man will not be the holy man. Heb. 12:10, 11: God chastens us "for our profit, that we might be partakers of his holiness." Chastisement ofttimes is intended to "produce the peaceable fruit of righteousness." Rom. 6:19-32; 2 Cor. 6:17, 7:1. Sanctification is brought about in the life of the believer by his separating himself deliberately from all that is unclean and unholy, and by presenting, continually and constantly, the members of his body as holy instruments unto God for the accomplishment of His holy purposes. Thus by these single acts of surrender unto holiness, sanctification soon becomes the habit of the life. G. PRAYER. I. ITS IMPORTANCE. II. ITS NATURE. 1. AS SEEN IN ITS HISTORIC DEVELOPMENT. 2. SCRIPTURAL TERMS. III. ITS POSSIBILITY. 1. THE REVELATION OF GOD. 2. THE WORK OF THE SON. 3. THE ASSISTANCE OF THE SPIRIT. 4. THE PROMISES. 5. CHRISTIAN TESTIMONY. IV. ITS OBJECTS. 1. GOD THE FATHER. 2. CHRIST THE SON. 3. THE HOLY SPIRIT. V. ITS METHOD. 1. POSTURE. 2. TIME AND PLACE. VI. HINDEANCES AND HELPS. 1. HINDRANCES. 2. HELPS--ESSENTIALS. G. PRAYER. I. THE IMPORTANCE OF PRAYER. Even a cursory perusal of the Scriptures will reveal the large and important place which the doctrine of Prayer finds therein. The Christian life cannot be sustained without it; it is the Christian's vital breath. Its importance is seen when we recall: That the neglect of prayer is grievous to the Lord (Isa. 43:21, 22; 64:6, 7, R. V.). That many evils in life are to be attributed to the lack of prayer (Zeph. 1:4-6; Dan. 9:13, 14, cf. Hosea 7:13, 14; 8:13, 14). That it is a sin to neglect prayer (1 Sam. 12:23). That to continue in prayer is a positive command (Col. 4:2, R. V.; 1 Thess. 5:17; we are commanded to take leisure or a vacation for prayer: 1 Cor. 7:5). That it is God's appointed method of obtaining what He has to bestow (Dan. 9:3; Matt. 7:7-11; 9:24-29; Luke 11:13). That the lack of the necessary blessings in life comes from failure to pray (James 4:2). That the apostles regarded prayer as the most important employment that could engage their time or attention (Acts 6:4; Rom. 1:9; Col. 1:9). II. THE NATURE OF PRAYER. It is interesting to trace the development of prayer in the Scriptures. In the life of the patriarch Abraham prayer seems to have taken the form of a dialogue--God and man drawing near and talking to each other (Gen. 18; 19); developing into intercession (Gen. 17:18; 18:23, 32), and then into personal prayer (Gen. 15:2; 24:12); Jacob, (Gen. 28:20; 32:9-12, 24; Hosea 12:4). The patriarchal blessings are called prayers (Gen 49:1; Deut. 33:11). During the period of the Law. Not very much prominence is given to formal prayer during this period. Deut. 26:1-15 seems to be the only one definitely recorded. Prayer had not yet found a stated place in the ritual of the law. It seems to have been more of a personal than a formal matter, and so while the Law may not afford much material, yet the life of the lawgiver, Moses, abounds with prayer (Exod. 5:22; 32:11; Num. 11:11-15). Under Joshua (7:6-9; 10:14), and the judges (c. 6) we are told that the children of Israel "cried unto the Lord." Under Samuel prayer seems to have assumed the nature of intercession (1 Sam. 7:5, 12; 8:16-18); personal (1 Sam. 15:11, 35; 16:1). In Jeremiah (15:1) Moses and Samuel are represented as offering intercessory prayer for Israel. David seems to regard himself as a prophet and priest, and prays without an intercessor (2 Sam. 7:18-29). The prophets seem to have been intercessors, e.g., Elijah (1 Kings 18). Yet personal prayers are found among the prophets (Jer. 20--both personal and intercessory; 33:3; 42:4; Amos 7). In the Psalms prayer takes the form of a pouring out of the heart (42:4; 62:8; 100:2, title). The psalmist does not seem to go before God with fixed and orderly petitions so much as simply to pour out his feelings and desires, whether sweet or bitter, troubled or peaceful. Consequently the prayers of the psalmist consist of varying moods: complaint, supplication, confession, despondency, praise. True prayer consists of such elements as adoration, praise, petition, pleading, thanksgiving, intercession, communion, waiting. The closet into which the believer enters to pray is not only an oratory --a place of prayer, it is an observatory--a place of vision. Prayer is not "A venture and a voice of mine; but a vision and a voice divine." Isa. 63:7; 64:12, illustrates all essential forms of address in prayer. III. THE POSSIBILITY OF PRAYER. This possibility consists in five things: 1. THE REVELATION OF GOD WHICH CHRIST HAS BROUGHT TO US. John 1:18--"No man hath seen God at any time; the only-begotten Son, which is in the bosom of the Father, he hath declared him." Matt. 11:27--". . . . Neither knoweth any man the Father, save the Son, and he to whomsoever the Son will reveal him." Christ reveals God as a _personal_ God, as a Being who sees, feels, knows, understands, and acts. Belief in the personality of God is absolutely necessary to true prayer (Heb. 11:6). Christ reveals God as a _sovereign_ God (Matt. 19:26)--"With God all things are possible." God is sovereign over all laws; He can make them subservient to His will, and use them in answering the prayers of His children. He is not bound by any so-called unchangeable laws. Christ revealed God as a _Father_ (Luke 11:13). In every instance in the life of Christ whenever He addresses God in prayer it is always as Father. The fact of the fatherhood of God makes prayer possible. It would be unnatural for a father not to commune with his child. 2. THE SACRIFICIAL WORK OF JESUS CHRIST. Heb. 10:19-22, R. V.--"Having therefore, brethren, boldness to enter into the holy place by the blood of Jesus, by the way which he dedicated for us, a new and living way, through the veil, that is to say, his flesh; and having a great priest over the house of God; let us draw near with a true heart in fulness of faith." It is because of the death of Christ, which removed the barrier that stood between God and us so that He could not consistently hear and answer our prayers, that He can now hear and answer the petitions of His children. 3. THE INSPIRATION OF THE HOLY GHOST. Rom. 8:26--"Likewise the Spirit also helpeth our infirmities: for we know not what we should pray for as we ought: but the Spirit himself maketh intercession for us with groanings which cannot be uttered." See also Jude 20. The thought is this: Even though we are assured that there is a personal God to hear us, and although we have the confidence that the barrier of sin which stood between us and God has been removed, so that we now desire to pray, we often are hindered because we either do not know what to say or what to ask for. We may ask too ardently for wrong things, or too languidly for the things we most need. And so we are afraid to pray. The assurance that this verse gives us is that the Holy Spirit will pray within us, and will indict the petition, helping us in our prayer life. 4. THE MANY PROMISES OF THE BIBLE. We are told that there are over 33,000 of them. Each promise is "yea and amen in Jesus Christ"; He is the guarantee and the guarantor of them all. They are not given to mock but to encourage us: "Hath he said and shall he not do it? Hath he spoken and shall he not make it good?" See John 14:13; 15:7; 1 John 5:14, 15; Luke 11:9, etc. 5. THE UNIVERSAL CHRISTIAN TESTIMONY. Christians, by the millions, the world over, can and do testify to the fact that God both hears and answers prayer. The credibility, character, and intelligence of the vast number of witnesses make their testimony indisputable and incontrovertible. IV. THE OBJECTS OF PRAYER--TO WHOM TO PRAY. 1. TO GOD. Neh 4:9; Acts 12:5--"Prayer was made without ceasing of the church unto God for him": God is holy--hence there must be no impurity in the life of the one praying; righteous, hence no crookedness; truthful, hence no lying or hypocrisy; powerful, hence we may have confidence; transcendent, hence reverence in our approach. 2. TO CHRIST. Acts 7:59--"Lord Jesus, receive my spirit." 2 Cor. 12:8, 9; 2 Tim. 2:22. 3. THE HOLY SPIRIT. Rom. 8:15, 16 sets forth the relation of the Holy Spirit and prayer, as do also Zech. 12:10; Eph. 6:18; Jude 20. The Holy Spirit is God (Acts 5:3, 4; Matt. 28:19; 2 Cor. 13:14), hence is to be worshipped (Matt. 4:10; Rev. 22:9). The normal mode of prayer is prayer in the Spirit, on the ground of the merits of the Son, to the Father: In the Spirit, through the Son, to the Father. V. THE METHOD OR MANNER OF PRAYER. 1. WITH REGARD TO THE POSTURE OF THE BODY. The soul may be in prayer no matter what is the attitude of the body. The Scriptures sanction no special bodily posture. Christ stood and prayed (John 17:1), knelt (Luke 22:41), He also fell on his face on the ground (Matt. 26:39); Solomon knelt (1 Kings 8:54); Elijah prayed with his elbows on his knees and his face buried in his hands; David prayed lying on his bed (Psa. 63:6); Peter prayed on the water (Matt. 14:30); the dying thief, on the cross (Luke 23:42). 2. TIME AND PLACE. Time: _Stated times_ (Dan. 6:10; Psa. 55:16, 17; Acts 3:1; 2:46; 10:9, 30). _Special occasions:_ Choosing the twelve (Luke 6:12, 13). Before the cross (Luke 22:39-46). After great successes (John 6:15, cf. Mark 6:46-48). _Early in the morning_ (Mark 1:35). _All night_ (Luke 6:12). _Times of special trouble_ (Psa. 81:7, cf. Exod. 2:23; 3:7; 14:10, 24). _At meals_ (Matt. 14:19; Acts 27:35; 1 Tim. 4:4, 5). Place of Prayer: Inner chamber (Matt. 6:6); amid nature (Matt. 14:23; Mark 1:35). In the church (John 17:1; Psa. 95:6). Before the unsaved (Acts 16:25; 27:35). In all places (1 Tim. 2:8, R. V.). VI. HINDRANCES AND HELPS TO PRAYER. 1. HINDRANCES. Indulged known sin (Psa. 66:18; Isa. 59:1, 2). Wilful disobedience to known commandments (Prov. 28:9). Selfishness (James 4:3). Unforgiving spirit (Matt. 5:22, 23; 6:12). Lack of faith (Heb. 11:6; James 1:6). Idols in the heart (Ezek. 8:5-18; 14:1-3). 2. HELPS--ESSENTIALS TO PREVAILING PRAYER. Sincerity (Psa. 145:18; Matt. 6:5). Simplicity (Matt. 6:7, cf. 26:44). Earnestness (James 5:17; Acts 12:5; Luke 22:44). Persistence (Luke 18:1-8; Col. 4:2; Rom. 12:12, R. V.). Faith (Matt. 21:22; James 1:6). Unison with others (Matt. 18:19, 20). Definiteness (Psa. 27:4; Matt. 18:19). Effort (Exod. 14:15). In the name of Jesus (John 16:23; 14:13, 14). With fasting (Acts 13:2, 3; 14:23). THE DOCTRINE OF THE CHURCH I. DEFINITION; DISTINCTIONS. 1. OLD TESTAMENT. 2. NEW TESTAMENT. 3. THE CHURCH; CHRISTENDOM; KINGDOM. II. THE FOUNDING OF THE CHURCH. 1. IN PROPHECY AND PROMISE. 2. HISTORICALLY FOUNDED. III. MEMBERSHIP IN THE CHURCH. Conditions of Entrance; Characteristics. 1. REPENTANCE AND BAPTISM. 2. FAITH IN THE DEITY OF JESUS CHRIST. 3. REGENERATION. 4. PUBLIC CONFESSION OF CHRIST--BAPTISM. 5. ADHERENCE TO THE APOSTLES' DOCTRINE. 6. CHARACTERISTICS. IV. FIGURES UNDER WHICH THE CHURCH IS PRESENTED. 1. THE BODY OF CHRIST. 2. THE TEMPLE OF GOD. 3. THE BRIDE OF CHRIST. V. THE ORDINANCES OF THE CHURCH. 1. BAPTISM. 2. THE LORD'S SUPPER. VI. THE VOCATION OF THE CHURCH. 1. TO WORSHIP GOD. 2. TO EVANGELIZE THE WORLD. 3. PERFECT EACH MEMBER. 4. TO WITNESS. 5. FUTURE GLORY. THE DOCTRINE OF THE CHURCH. There is great danger of losing sight of the Church in the endeavor to emphasize the idea of the Kingdom of Heaven or Christendom. We are prone to think it a small thing to speak of the Church; the Kingdom and Christendom seem so large in comparison. We are tempted to distinguish and contrast Churchism, as it is sometimes called, and Christianity, to the disparagement of the former. It is well to remember that Jesus Christ positively identifies Himself with the Church (Acts 9) and not with Christendom; He gave up His life that He might found the Church (Eph. 5:25). The Apostle Paul sacrificed himself in his endeavors to build up the Church, not Christendom. He speaks of his greatest sin as consisting in persecuting the Church of God (1 Cor. 15:9). The supreme business of God in this age is the gathering of the Church. Some day it will be complete (Eph. 4:12), and then the age will have served its purpose. I. DEFINITIONS; DISTINCTIONS. 1. OLD TESTAMENT USE OF THE WORD. Lev. 4:13--"And if the whole congregation of Israel sin through ignorance, and the thing be hid from the eyes of the assembly . . . ." The Hebrew word for _assembly_ means to _call_ or _assemble,_ and is used not only for the act of calling itself, but also for the assembly of the called ones. In this sense Israel is called a "church," an assembly, because called out from among the other nations to be a holy people (Acts 7:38, "the church in the wilderness"). There is always a religious aspect associated with this particular call. 2. THE NEW TESTAMENT USE OF THE WORD. It is from the New Testament primarily, if not really exclusively, that the real meaning and idea of the Church is derived. The Christian Church is a New Testament institution, beginning with Pentecost, and ending, probably, with the rapture. Two words are of special importance in this connection: a) Ecclesia, from Two Greek Words Meaning "To Call Out From." This word is used in all about 111 times in the New Testament. It is used in a secular sense in Acts 19:39--"It shall be determined in a lawful assembly"; of Israel in the wilderness (Acts 7:38), and of the assembly of believers in Christ (Matt. 16:18; 18:17; 1 Cor. 1:2; Eph. 5:25-27). In keeping with this idea the saints are said to be the "called-out" ones (Rom. 8:30; 1 Cor. 1:2; cf. 2 Cor. 6:17). b) "Kuriakon"--That Which Belongs to the Lord. So we have "the supper of the Lord" (1 Cor. 11:20); the "day of the Lord" (Rev. 1:10). See also Luke 22:25 and Rom. 14:8, 9, as illustrating that over which the Lord has dominion and authority. To sum up then: The Church is composed of the body of believers who have been called out from the world, and who are under the dominion and authority of Jesus Christ. c) The Growth of the Church Idea in the New Testament. At first there was but one Church at Jerusalem. The meetings may have been held in different houses, yet there was but one Church with one roster: so we read of the total membership consisting at one time of 120 (Acts 1:15), again of 3,000 (2:41), and still again of 5,000 (4:4), to which there were daily additions (2:47). The apostles were at the head of the Church (2:41-47). See Acts, cc. 1 and 2, for a fuller account of the first Church. The second stage in the growth of the Church was its spread throughout Judea and Samaria, as recorded in Acts 8. Antioch, in Syria, then became the head of the Gentile Church (Acts 13:1), as Jerusalem was the head of the Jewish Church (Acts 15); Paul representing the Church at Antioch, and Peter and James at Jerusalem. The assembly at Antioch was called "the church" just as truly as was the assembly at Jerusalem (11:22; 13:1). Because of the missionary activities of the apostles, especially Paul, churches sprang up in different cities, especially in Asia Minor, e.g., Corinth, Galatia, Ephesus, and Philippi. In view of all this the term "church" came to be used of the Church _universal,_ that is, the complete body of Christ as existing in every place (1 Cor. 15:9; Gal. 1:2, 13; Matt. 16:18); of _local_ churches in any one place (Col. 4:16; Phil. 4:15; 1 Cor. 1:2, etc.); of _single meetings,_ even where two or three met together (Matt. 18:19; Col. 4:15; Phil. 1:2; Rom. 16:5). It is evident, then, from what has here been said, that by the term "church" is included all that is meant from the Church Universal to the meeting of the church in the house. Wherever God's people meet in the name of Christ to worship, there you have the Church. 3. DISTINCTIONS: a) The Church and the Kingdom. The Church (which is the mystery) and the Kingdom in mystery are now contemporary. The Kingdom will be fully manifested at the coming of Christ. The Church is within the Kingdom; probably the regenerate are "the children of the kingdom." The Kingdom is comprised of both good and bad (Matt. 13); the Church, of real saints only. The Jews rejected the Kingdom under Christ and the apostles. That Kingdom, now rejected, will be set up again when the Messiah comes. This conception will help us to understand the parables of Matthew 13, as well as the Sermon on the Mount. The tares are sown not in the Church, but in the field, which is the world. The Church may be looked upon as part of the Kingdom of God, just as Illinois is part of the United States. The Kingdom is present, in a sense, just as the King is present in the hearts of his own people. There is a difference between the Church and Christendom, just as there is a difference between possessing and professing Christians. Baptized Christendom is one thing, and the Church of Christ is another. b) The Church Visible and Invisible: Actual and Ideal. The Church _Visible_ is composed of all those whose names are enrolled upon its roster; _Invisible,_ of those whose names are written in the Lamb's book of life; _Actual,_ people imperfect, yet aiming after perfection, alive here on the earth; _Ideal,_ departed saints who are now triumphant in heaven (Heb. 12:23). There is a Church in heaven just as there is one upon the earth; indeed, it is but a part of the one Church; called the Church _militant_ while upon the earth, and the Church _triumphant_ in heaven. c) The Church Local and Universal. By the first is meant the Church in any particular place, such as "the church at Corinth"; by the latter, the Church as found in every place (1 Cor. 1:2). II. THE FOUNDING OF THE CHURCH. 1. FORETOLD BY CHRIST. Matt. 16:16-18--". . . . On this rock I will build my church." Here is the Church in prophecy and promise; the first mention of the Church in the New Testament. Note the distinction here recognized between the "Kingdom" and the "Church." The Church is to be founded on Peter's confession of Jesus Christ as the Son of the living God. No supremacy is here given to Peter, as a comparison of these verses with John 20:19-23, and Matt. 18:18--in which the same privilege of the binding and loosing is given to the whole Church and to all the apostles--will show. In Matthew 18:15-20 our Lord recognizes the fact of the Church, and also that it has the divine seal and sanction in the exercising of the power of the keys. 2. HISTORICALLY FOUNDED BY THE APOSTLES. Acts 1-2:47. The promise and prophecy of Matt. 16:16-18 is here fulfilled. Here is the account of the first Christian Church in its glorious beginning, and as it actually existed in Jerusalem. When a man became regenerate by believing in Jesus Christ he was thereby constituted a member of the Church. There was no question as to whether he ought to join himself to the Church or not; that was a fact taken for granted. So we read that the Lord was adding to the Church daily such as were being saved. The Church was already a concrete institution to which every believer in Christ united himself. "The Apostles' doctrine" formed the standard of faith--a fulfillment of Christ's prophecy and promise in Matthew 16:16-18: "On this rock I will build my church," etc. The Church had _stated places of meeting:_ the upper room (Acts 1:13), the temple (5:12), the homes of members (2:46, 12:12), and the synagogue; _stated times of_ meeting: daily (2:46), each Lord's Day (20:7), the _regular hours_ of prayer (3:1; 10:9); _a regular church roll:_ 120 (1:15), 3,000 (2:41), 5,000 (4:4); _daily additions_ (2:47). That there were definitely, regularly organized churches is clear from the fact that the Apostle Paul addressed many of his epistles to churches in different localities. The letters to the Corinthians (e.g., 1 Ep. 12-14) show that the churches had already recognized certain forms of service and liturgy; those to Timothy and Titus presume a regularly organized congregation of believers. That there is a Church in the world is clear from 1 Cor. 5:9-13. The Christian Church is as much an entity as the Gentile, or the Jew (1 Cor. 10:32). The existence of church officers proves the existence of the Church in an organized form: bishops and deacons (Phil. 1:1), elders (Acts 20:17), the presbytery (1 Tim. 4:14). Church letters were granted to members (Acts 18:27). III. MEMBERSHIP IN THE CHURCH--ITS CONDITIONS AND CHARACTERISTICS. 1. REPENTANCE AND BAPTISM REQUIRED OF ALL ITS MEMBERS. Acts 2:38-41--"Then Peter said unto them, Repent, and be baptized every one of you in the name of Jesus Christ for the remission of sins, and ye shall receive the gift of the Holy Ghost. Then they that gladly received his word were baptized: and the same day there were added unto them about three thousand souls." 2. FAITH IN THE LORD JESUS CHRIST AS THE DIVINE REDEEMER. Matt. 16:16-18; Acts 2:38, 39. Peter's entire sermon in Acts 2 illustrates this fact. 3. SAVED-REGENERATED. Acts 2:47--". . . . And the Lord added to the church such as should be saved." Cf. John 3:3, 5. It was essential that the members of the early Church should be "added unto the Lord" before they were added to the Church (5:14; 11:24). 4. BAPTISM IN THE NAME OF THE TRIUNE GOD AS AN OPEN CONFESSION OF CHRIST. Matt. 28:19--"Go ye therefore, and teach all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost." Acts 2:38-41; 10:47, 48; 22:16: cf. Rom. 10:9, 10. 5. ADHERENCE TO THE APOSTOLIC DOCTRINE. Acts 2:42--"And they continued steadfastly in the apostles' doctrine and fellowship." Cf. "On this rock I will build my church" (Matt. 16:16-18); also Eph. 2:20. 6. CHARACTERISTICS OF MEMBERSHIP IN THE EARLY CHURCH. The members were known as believers (Acts 4:32); brethren (11:29; 12:17; Rom. 1:13--the absolute equality of all believers, cf. Matt. 23:8-10); Christians (Acts 11:26; 26:28); saints (9:13; 1 Cor. 1:2; Rev. 13:7); elect (Mark 13:27; Rom. 8:33; Eph. 1:4). IV. FIGURES UNDER WHICH THE CHURCH IS SET FORTH IN THE SCRIPTURES. 1. THE BODY, OF WHICH CHRIST IS THE HEAD. Two ideas are contained in this symbol: a) The Relation of the Church to Christ, Who Is Its Head. Eph. 1:22, 23; Col. 1:18; 2:19. The Church is an organism, not an organization. There is a vital relation between Christ and the Church, both partaking of the same life, just as there is between the physical head and the body. We cannot join the Church as we would a lodge or any mere human organization. We must be partakers by faith of Christ's life before we can become members of Christ's Church, in the true sense. As the Head of the Church Christ is its Guardian and Director (Eph. 5:23, 24); the Source of its life, filling it with His fulness (Eph. 1:23); the Centre of its Unity and the Cause of its growth (Eph. 4:15; Col. 2:19). b) The Relation of the Members One to Another. 1 Cor. 12:12-27; Rom. 12:4, 5; Eph. 4:1-4, 15,16. 2. A TEMPLE, A BUILDING, A HABITATION, A DWELLING-PLACE FOR GOD'S SPIRIT. Eph. 2:20, 21; 1 Cor. 3:9-17; 1 Tim. 3:15; 1 Pet. 2:4-8; Rev. 21:3; 1 Cor. 6:19. Of this building Christ is the cornerstone, and the prophets and apostles the foundation. In 1 Cor. 3 Christ is the chief cornerstone and the apostles the builders; the whole building is held in place by Christ. 3. THE BRIDE OF CHRIST. 2 Cor. 11:2; Eph. 5:25-27; Rev. 19:7; 22:17. Christ is the Bridegroom (John 3:29). This is a great mystery (Eph. 5:32). The Bride becomes the wife of the Lamb (Rev. 21:2). V. THE ORDINANCES OF THE CHURCH. 1. BAPTISM. Matt. 28:19, 20; Mark 16:16; Acts 2:38, 41; 8:36-40; 10:47, 48. 2. THE LORD'S SUPPER. Acts 2:42, 46; 20:7--"And upon the first day of the week, when the disciples came together to break bread, Paul preached unto them, ready to depart on the morrow; and continued his speech until midnight." 1 Cor. 11:20-34. VI. THE VOCATION OF THE CHURCH. 1. TO WORSHIP GOD AND TO GLORIFY HIM ON THE EARTH: Eph. 1:4-6--"According as he hath chosen us in him before the foundation of the world, that we should be holy and without blame before him in love: Having predestinated us unto the adoption of children by Jesus Christ to himself, according to the good pleasure of his will. To the praise of the glory of his grace wherein he hath made us accepted in the beloved." 2. TO EVANGELIZE THE WORLD WITH THE GOSPEL: Matt. 28:19, 20--"Go ye therefore, and teach all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost." Acts 2; 5:42; 6:5-8; Eph. 3:8; Acts 15:7. 3. TO DEVELOP EACH INDIVIDUAL CHRISTIAN UNTIL HE ATTAINS UNTO THE FULNESS OF THE STATURE OF CHRIST: Eph. 4:11-15. Hence the gift of pastors, teachers, etc. Herein lies the value of church attendance--it promotes growth; failure to attend leads to apostasy (Heb. 10:25-28), cf. 1 Thess. 5:11; 1 Cor. 12. 4. A CONSTANT WITNESS FOR CHRIST AND HIS WORD: Acts 1:8--"But ye shall receive power, after that the Holy Ghost is come upon you: and ye shall be witnesses unto me both in Jerusalem, and in all Judea, and in Samaria, and unto the uttermost part of the earth." 8:1, 4. 5. THE FUTURE GLORY OF THE CHURCH: Eph. 3:10, 21; Eev. 7:9-17. THE DOCTRINE OF THE SCRIPTURES. I. NAMES AND TITLES. 1. THE BIBLE. 2. THE TESTAMENTS. 3. THE SCRIPTURES. 4. THE WORD OF GOD. II. INSPIRATION. 1. DEFINITION. 2. DISTINCTIONS. a) Revelation. b) Illumination. c) Reporting. 3. VIEWS: a) Natural Inspiration. b) Christian Illumination. c) Dynamic Theory. d) Concept Theory. e) Verbal Inspiration. f) Partial Inspiration. g) Plenary Inspiration. 4. THE CLAIMS OF THE SCRIPTURES THEMSELVES: a) The Old Testament. b) The New Testament. 5. THE CHARACTER (OR DEGREES) OF INSPIRATION. a) Actual Words of God Himself. b) Actual Words Communicated by God to Men. e) Individual Freedom in Choice of Words--To What Extent? THE DOCTRINE OF THE SCRIPTURES. I. THE BIBLE--ITS NAMES AND TITLES. 1. "THE BIBLE." Our English word _Bible_ comes from the Greek words _biblos_ (Matt. 1:1) and _biblion_ (diminutive form) (Luke 4:17), which mean _"book."_ Ancient books were written upon the biblus or papyrus reed, and from this custom came the Greek name _biblos,_ which finally came to be applied to the sacred books. See Mark 12:26; Luke 3:4; 20:42; Acts 1:20; 7:42. The Bible is not merely _a_ book, however. It is THE BOOK--the Book that from the importance of its subjects, the wideness of its range, the majesty of its Author, stands as high above all other books as the heaven is high above the earth. 2. "THE OLD AND NEW TESTAMENTS." See Luke 22:20; 1 Cor. 11:25; 2 Cor. 3:6, 14; Heb. 9:15; 12:24. The word _Testament_ means _Covenant,_ and is the term by which God was pleased to designate the relation that existed between Himself and His people. The term _Covenant_ was first of all applied to the relation itself, and afterward to the books which contained the record of that relation. By the end of the second century we find the "Old Covenant" and the "New Covenant" as the established names of the Jewish and Christian Scriptures; and Origen, in the beginning of the third century, mentioned "the divine Scriptures, the so-called Old and New Covenants." The Old Testament deals with the record of the calling and history of the Jewish nation, and as such it is the Old Covenant. The New Testament deals with the history and application of the redemption wrought by the Lord Jesus Christ, and as such it is the New Covenant. 3. "THE SCRIPTURE," AND "THE SCRIPTURES." The Bible is also called "The Scripture" (Mark 12:10; 15:28; Luke 4:21; John 2:22; 7:38; 10:35; Rom. 4:3; Gal. 4:30; 2 Pet. 1:20), and "The Scriptures" (Matt. 22:29; Mark 12:24; Luke 24:27; John 5:39; Acts 17:11; Rom. 1:2; 2 Tim. 3:15; 2 Pet. 3:16). These terms mean that the Scriptures are "Holy Writings." By the early Christians the most common designation for the whole Bible was "The Scriptures." 4. "THE WORD OF GOD." Of all the names given to the Bible, "The Word of God" (Mark 7:13; Rom. 10:17; 2 Cor. 2:17; Heb. 4:12; 1 Thess. 2:13) is doubtless the most significant, impressive, and complete. It is sufficient to justify the faith of the weakest Christian. It gathers up all that the most earnest search can unfold. It teaches us to regard the Bible as the utterance of divine wisdom and love--as God speaking to man. II. THE INSPIRATION OF THE BIBLE. 1. WHAT IS MEANT BY THE TERM "INSPIRATION." This question is best answered by Scripture itself. It defines its own terms. Let us turn, then, "to the Law and to the Testimony." In 2 Tim. 3:16--"All Scripture is given by inspiration of God." The word "inspired" means literally "God-breathed." It is composed of two Greek words--_theos=God;_ and _pnein=to breathe._ The term "given by inspiration" signifies, then, that the writings of the Old Testament, of which Paul is here speaking, are the result of a certain influence exerted by God upon their authors. The meaning of the word "breathed," as here used, is brought out very forcibly by the comparison of two other words translated in the same way. The one is the Greek word _psuchein=to breathe gently,_ while in 2 Tim. 3:16 the term denotes a forcible respiration. The other is the Hebrew word _ah-ayrh=to breathe unconsciously,_ while 2 Tim. 3:16 denotes a conscious breathing. Inspiration, then, as defined by Paul in this passage, is the _strong, conscious inbreathing of God into men, qualifying them to give utterance to truth. It is God speaking through men, and the Old Testament is therefore just as much the Word of God as though God spake every single word of it with His own lips._ The Scriptures are the result of divine inbreathing, just as human speech is uttered by the breathing through a man's mouth. 2 Pet. 1:21--"For not by the will of man was prophecy brought at any time, but being borne by the Holy Spirit, the holy men of God spoke." (This is a literal rendering, and brings out the sense more clearly.) The participle "moved" may be translated "when moved," so this passage teaches that holy men of God wrote the Scripture _when_ moved to do so by the Holy Spirit. Further, the participle is passive, and denotes "to be moved upon." This distinctly teaches that the Scripture was not written by mere men, or at their suggestion, but by men _moved upon_, prompted, yea indeed, driven by the promptings of the Holy Spirit. This declaration of Peter may be said to intimate that the Holy Ghost was especially and miraculously present with and in the writers of the Scriptures, revealing to them truths which they did not know before, and guiding them alike in their record of these truths, and of the transactions of which they were eye and ear witnesses, so that they were enabled to present them with substantial accuracy to the minds of others. The statements of the Scriptures regarding Inspiration may be summed up as follows: Holy men of God, qualified by the infusion of the breath of God, wrote in obedience to the divine command, and were kept from all error, whether they revealed truths previously unknown or recorded truths already familiar. In this sense, "all Scripture is given by inspiration of God," the Bible is indeed and in truth the very Word of God, and the books of the Bible are of divine origin and authority. 2. THE DISTINCTION BETWEEN INSPIRATION, REVELATION, ILLUMINATION, AND VERBATIM REPORTING. a) The Distinction Between Inspiration and Revelation. It is of the greatest importance, in considering the theme of Inspiration, to distinguish it clearly from Revelation. The most cursory perusal of the Scriptures reveals the fact that they consist of two different kinds of records: first, records of truth directly revealed and imparted to the mind of the writer by God, and which he could have learned in no other manner (such, for example, as the story of Creation); and second, records of events that occurred within the writer's own observation, and of sayings that fell upon his own ears (such as Moses' account of the Exodus, Paul's account of his interview with Peter at Antioch). In the one case, the writer records things that had not been revealed to man before; in the other case, he records facts which were as well known to others as to himself. Now, Revelation is that act of God by which He directly communicates truth not known before to the human mind. Revelation discovers new truth, while Inspiration superintends the communicating of that truth. All that is in the Bible has not been "directly revealed" to man. It contains history, and the language of men, even of wicked men. But there is absolutely no part of the Bible record that is not inspired. The history recorded in the Bible is true. The sacred writers were so directed and influenced by the Spirit that they were preserved, in writing, from every error of fact and doctrine. The history remains history. Things not sanctioned by God, recorded in the Bible, are to be shunned (2 Tim. 3:16). Nevertheless, all these things were written under the guidance of the Holy Spirit. This is Inspiration. This distinction should be definitely and clearly understood, for many of the most plausible arguments against the full inspiration of the Scriptures have arisen from the fact that this has been either unrecognized or ignored. Though all Scripture is inspired, it does not stamp with divine authority every sentiment which it reports as uttered by the men of whom it speaks, nor does it mark with divine approval every action which it relates as performed by those with whose biographies it deals. In the book of Job, for example, Inspiration gives with equal accuracy the language of Jehovah, the words of Satan, and the speeches of Job and his three friends; but it does not therefore place them all on the same level of authority. Each speaker is responsible for his own utterances. Neither Satan, Job, nor his three friends spoke by inspiration of God. They gave utterance to their own opinions; and all that Inspiration vouches for is that no one of them is misrepresented, but that each one spoke the sentiments that are attributed to him in Scripture. So, again, the fact that David's cruelty to the Ammonites is recorded in the book of Kings does not imply that God approved it any more than He approved the king's double crime of murder and adultery, which "displeased Him." The inspiration of the Book vouches only for the accuracy of the record. b) The Distinction Between Inspiration and Illumination. Spiritual Illumination refers to the influence of the Holy Ghost, common to all Christians. No statement of a truth about God or spiritual things can be understood by a man unless the Holy Spirit takes it and reveals it to him. It is only the spiritual man who can understand spiritual things. "The natural man receiveth not the things of the Spirit" (1 Cor. 2:14). No learning of the schools can lead him to know God. Flesh and blood cannot reveal God to men (Matt. 16:17). There is a vast difference between "a divine revelation of the mind of God" and "a divine action on the mind of man." The former is Revelation; the latter is Spiritual Illumination. Those who hold to the illumination theory to account for the origin of the Bible revelation claim that there is in every man an intuitive faculty that grasps the supernatural, that lays hold of God and spiritual things; and that whatever insight into the nature and being of God is given man, is produced by the divine Spirit playing upon this spiritual faculty in man, illuminating and irradiating it, so that it sees the perfection of God and is enabled to penetrate into His will. According to this view, the Bible is the result of the meditations of godly men whose minds were acted upon by God. Any revelation of divinity of which man is the recipient, comes in this manner. Subjective illumination God has carried on since the world began, and is still carrying on by a great variety of methods. The Scriptures are not in any way the oracles of God, nor do they come to us as direct, logical utterances of the divine mind. The patriarchs, prophets and apostles of old so deeply meditated on God and the things of God that their spiritual faculties were enlarged and illuminated to such a degree that they conceived of these visions of God, His nature, His will, etc., as recorded in the Scriptures. Now, it is true, doubtless, that a man may be granted a very deep insight into the nature and being of God by spiritual meditation. That a fire does burn in the Bible, we do not deny. Throughout all ages of the Jewish and Christian churches men have lit their spiritual torches at this fire, and in their light they have seen Him who is invisible. This fire still burns, and to-day the devout student may catch its flame if, with uncovered head, with shoeless feet, and with humble spirit, he stands before the bush that ever burns and yet is never consumed. But this working of the truth of God on the mind of man is not God's revelation of His mind to man which the Bible professes to be. The Bible must of necessity be not merely a repository or receptacle of spiritual influences fitted to act upon the mind; it must be--it is--God making Himself known to men. It is God speaking to man through men. In contradistinction to the illumination theory we have instances in the Bible in which God made revelations of Himself, His truth, and His will to men who were by no means at the time meditating upon God. See e.g.: John 11:49-52--"And one of them, named Caiaphas, being the high priest that same year, said unto them, Ye know nothing at all, nor consider that it is expedient for us, that one man should die for the people, and that the whole nation perish not. And this spake he not of himself: but being high priest that year, he prophesied that Jesus should die for that nation; and not for that nation only, but that also He should gather together in one the children of God that were scattered abroad." See also Num. 22:34, 35. c) The Distinction Between Inspiration and Verbatim Reporting. Inspiration is not necessarily Verbatim Reporting. It is not absolutely necessary to make such a claim to prove the inspiration of the Scriptures. Verbatim Reporting is, in a sense, a mere mechanical operation. It would have robbed the writers of their individuality, and made them mere machines. But no; the Holy Spirit used the memories, the intuitions, the judgments, and indeed the idiosyncrasies of the writers, so that while each recorded that part of the event or discourse which (as we may express it) adhered to himself, he was enabled to give it with substantial accuracy. 3. VARIOUS THEORIES OF INSPIRATION. It will be in order here to note briefly various theories of inspiration; for it must be known that all students do not agree as to the degree of inspiration that characterized the writers of the Scripture. When a man says, "I believe in the inspiration of the Bible," it will be quite in place in these days to ask him what he means by inspiration. Following are some of the views of inspiration held at the present day. a) Natural Inspiration. This theory identifies inspiration with genius of a high order. It denies that there is anything supernatural, mysterious, or peculiar in the mode of the Spirit's operation in and upon the Scripture writers. It claims that they were no more inspired than were Milton, Shakespeare, Mahomet, or Confucius. Such a theory we absolutely reject. For if such be the character of the inspiration possessed by the Scripture writers, there is nothing to assure us that they were not liable to make the same errors, to teach the same false views of life, to give expression to the same uncertainties concerning the past, the present, and the future as did these shining lights of mere human genius. When David said, "The Spirit of the Lord spake by me, and His word was in my tongue," he meant something more than the prayer which forms the gem of _Paradise Lost._ When Isaiah and his brethren said, "Thus saith the Lord," they claimed something higher than that they were speaking under the stirrings of poetic rapture. When Paul said to the Corinthians, "Which things also we speak, not in the words which man's wisdom teacheth, but which the Holy Ghost teacheth (1 Cor. 2:13)," he used the language to which you will find no parallel in the literature of mere human genius. And no man of candor or intelligence can pass from the writings even of the unapproachable Shakespeare into the perusal of the Bible without feeling that the difference between the two is not one simply of degree, but of kind; he has not merely ascended to a loftier outlook in the same human dwelling, but he has gone into a new region altogether. There is a certain "unknown quality" in this Book which clearly distinguishes it from all others; and if we may take its own explanation of the matter, that unknown quality is its divine inspiration. b) Universal Christian Inspiration, or Illumination. According to this theory, the inspiration of the Bible writers was the same as has characterized Christians of every age; the ordinary Christian of to-day is inspired as much as was the Apostle Paul. If this be the true view, there seems to be no plausible reason why a new Bible should not be possible to-day. And yet no individual, however extreme his claims to inspiration may be, has even ventured such a task. c) Mechanical, or Dynamic Inspiration. (See Verbatim Eeporting, page 198.) This theory ignores the human instrumentality in the writing of the Scriptures altogether, and claims that the writers were passive instruments mere machines, just as insensible to what they were accomplishing as is the string of the harp or lyre to the play of the musician. How, then, do we account for the differences in style of the various writers, the preservation of their individualities, their idiosyncrasies? It seems evident that Scripture cannot be made to harmonize with the application of this theory. d) Concept, or Thought Inspiration. This theory claims that only the concepts, or thoughts, of men were given by inspiration. It will be examined more fully later. Concept Inspiration is opposed by e) Verbal Inspiration. Here it is claimed that the very words of Scripture were given by the Holy Spirit; that the writers were not left absolutely to themselves in the choice of words they should use. (See page 204.) f) Partial Inspiration. The favorite way of expressing this theory is, "The Bible _contains_ the Word of God." This statement implies that it contains much that is not the Word of God, that is, that is not inspired. A serious question at once arises: Who is to decide what is and what is not inspired? Who is to be the judge of so vital a question? What part is inspired, and what part is not? Who can tell? Such a theory leaves man in awful and fatal uncertainty. g) Plenary, or Full, Inspiration. This is the opposite of Partial Inspiration. It holds all Scripture to be equally inspired, as stated on page 200. It bases its claim on 2 Tim. 3:16. The Revised Version translation of 2 Tim. 3:16 is erroneous. The reader might infer from it that there is some Scripture that is not inspired. If Paul had said, "All Scripture that is divinely inspired is also profitable, etc.," he would virtually have said, "There is _some_ Scripture, _some_ part of the Bible, that is _not profitable, etc.,_ and therefore is not inspired." This is what the spirit of rationalism wants, namely, to make human reason the test and judge and measure of what is inspired and what is not. One man says such and such a verse is not profitable to him, another says such and such a verse is not profitable to him; a third says such and such is not profitable to him. The result is that no Bible is left. Is it possible that anyone need be told the flat and sapless tautology that all divinely-inspired Scripture is _also_ profitable? Paul dealt in no such meaningless phrases. The word translated _also_ does not mean _also_ here. It means _and._ Its position in the sentence shows this. Again, the Revised rendering is shown to be openly false because the revisers refused to render the same Greek construction elsewhere in the same way, which convicts them of error. In Hebrew 4:13 we read: "All things are naked and laid open before the eyes of Him with whom we have to do." The form and construction of this verse is identical with that of 2 Tim. 3:16. Were we, however, to translate this passage as the revisers translated the passage in Timothy, it would read: "All naked things are also open to the eyes of Him with whom we have to do." All naked things are also open things! All uncovered things are also exposed things! There is no _also_ in the case. Again, 1 Tim. 4:4: "Every creature of God is good and nothing is to be rejected." According to the principles the revisers adopted in rendering 2 Tim. 3:16, this passage would read: "Every good creature of God is also nothing to be rejected." The Greek language has no such meaningless syntax. The place of the verb _is,_--which must be supplied,--is directly before the word "inspired," and not after it. The great rationalistic scholar, DeWette, confessed candidly that the rendering the revisers here adopted cannot be defended. In his German version of the text, he gave the sense thus: "Every sacred writing, i.e., of the canonical Scriptures, is inspired of God and is useful for doctrine, etc." Bishops Moberly and Wordsworth, Archbishop Trench, and others of the Revision committee, disclaimed any responsibility for the rendering. Dean Burgon pronounced it "the most astonishing as well as calamitous literary blunder of the age." It was condemned by Dr. Tregelles, the only man ever pensioned by the British government for scholarship. In accordance with this weight of testimony, therefore, we hold to the rendering of the Authorized Version, and claim that all Scripture is equally and fully inspired of God. 4. THE CLAIMS OF THE SCRIPTURES TO INSPIRATION. That the writers of the Scriptures claimed to write under the direct influence of the Spirit of God there can be no doubt. The _quality_ or _degree_ of their insspiration may be called into question, but surely not the _fact_ of it. Let us examine the testimony of the writers themselves. a) The Claims of Old Testament Writers to Inspiration. (We use the word Inspiration here as including Revelation.) Compare and examine the following passages: Exod. 4:10-15--"And Moses said unto the Lord, O my Lord, I am not eloquent, neither heretofore, nor since thou hast spoken unto thy servant; but I am slow of speech, and of a slow tongue. And the Lord said unto him, Who hath made man's mouth? or who maketh the dumb, or deaf, or the seeing, or the blind? have not I the Lord? Now therefore go, and I will be with thy mouth, and teach thee what thou shalt say. And he said, O my Lord, send, I pray thee, by the hand of him whom thou wilt send. And the anger of the Lord was kindled against Moses, and he said, Is not Aaron the Levite thy brother? I know that he can speak well. And also, behold, he cometh forth to meet thee; and when he seeth thee, he will be glad in his heart. And thou shalt speak unto him, and put words in his mouth, and I will be with thy mouth, and with his mouth, and will teach you what ye shall do." Deut. 4:2--"Ye shall not add unto the word which I command you, neither shall ye diminish ought from it, that ye may keep the commandments of the Lord your God which I command you." Jer. 1:7-9--"But the Lord said unto me, Say not, I am a child: for thou shalt go to all that I shall send thee, and whatsoever I command thee thou shalt speak. Be not afraid of their faces; for I am with thee to deliver thee, saith the Lord. Then the Lord put forth his hand, and touched my mouth. And the Lord said unto me, Behold, I have put my words in thy mouth." Also Ezek. 3:4; Micah 3:8. These are but a few of the many passages in which the inspiration of the writers is affirmed and claimed. Note further that the words "God said" occur ten times in the first chapter of Genesis. It is claimed that such expressions as "The Lord said," "The Lord spake," "The word of the Lord came," are found 3,808 times in the Old Testament. These writers, claiming to be the revealers of the will of God, almost always commenced their messages with the words, "Thus saith the Lord." That they were not deceived in their claims is evident from the minuteness and detail as to names, times and places which characterized their messages, and from the literal fulfillment of these oracles of God. b) The Claims of the New Testament Writers to Inspiration. It is worthy of note here to observe that inspiration is claimed by New Testament writers for Old Testament writers as well as for themselves. Read and compare the following passages: 2 Pet. 1:20, 21--"Knowing this first, that no prophecy of the Scripture is of any private interpretation. For the prophecy came not in old time by the will of man; but holy men of God spake as they were moved by the Holy Ghost." 1 Pet. 1:10, 11--"Of which salvation the prophets have inquired and searched diligently, who prophesied of the grace that should come unto you: searching what, or what manner of time the Spirit of Christ which was in them did signify, when it testified beforehand the sufferings of Christ, and the glory that should follow." Acts 1:16--"Men and brethren, this scripture must needs have been fulfilled, which the Holy Ghost by the mouth of David spake before concerning Judas, which was guide to them that took Jesus." Acts 28:25--"And when they agreed not among themselves, they departed, after that Paul had spoken one word, Well spake the Holy Ghost by Esaias the prophet unto our fathers." 1 Cor. 2:13--"Which things also we speak, not in the words which man's wisdom teacheth, but which the Holy Ghost teacheth; comparing spiritual things with spiritual." 1 Cor. 14:37--"If any man think himself to be a prophet, or spiritual, let him acknowledge that the things that I write unto you are the commandments of the Lord." 1 Thess. 2:13--"For this cause also thank we God without ceasing, because, when ye received the word of God which ye heard of us, ye received it not as the word of men, but, as it is in truth, the word of God, which effectually worketh also in you that believe." 2 Peter 3:1, 2--"This second epistle, beloved, I now write unto you; in both which I stir up your pure minds by way of remembrance: that ye may be mindful of the words which were spoken before by the holy prophets, and of the commandment of us the apostles of the Lord and Saviour." Matt. 10:20--"For it is not ye that speak, but the Spirit of your Father which speaketh in you." Mark 13:11--"But when they shall lead you, and deliver you up, take no thought beforehand what ye shall speak, neither do ye premeditate; but whatsoever shall be given you in that hour, that speak ye, for it is not ye that speak, but the Holy Ghost." See also Luke 12:12; 21:14, 15; Acts 2:4. It is evident from these and many other passages of Scripture that the writers of both the Old and New Testaments were conscious of having received revelations from God, and considered themselves inspired of God to write the Scriptures. They felt while writing that they were giving expression to the infallible truth of God, and were conscious that the Holy Spirit was moving them to the work. 5. WHAT IS THE NATUEE OF THE INSPIRATION THAT CHARACTERIZED THE WRITERS OF THE SCRIPTURES, AND IN WHAT DEGREE WERE THEY UNDER ITS INFLUENCE? Much has been said and written in answer to this question. Were the _thoughts_ or _concepts_ alone inspired, or were the _words_ also inspired? Were the words dictated by the Holy Spirit, or were the writers left to choose their own words? These are the knotty questions current today regarding the Inspiration of the Bible. We may say with certainty that a) At least Some of the Words of Scripture are the Identical Words Written or Spoken by God Himself. Note Exodus 38:16--"The writing was the writing of God"; Exodus 31:18--"Written with the finger of God." Compare also Deuteronomy 10:2, 4; 9:10; Exodus 24:12. See also 1 Chronicles 28:19 (R. V.)--"All this, said David, have I been made to understand in writing from the hand of Jehovah"; Daniel 5:5--There "came forth the finger of a man's hand and wrote." In the New Testament God is heard speaking both at the baptism and the transfiguration of Jesus, saying, "This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased; hear ye him." It is clearly evident from these passages that some part of the inspired record claims to be a record of the exact words of God. b) It is Also very Definitely Stated in Scripture that God Put into the Mouths of Certain Men the Very Words They Should Speak, and Told Them What They Should Write. Exod. 4:10-15--"And Moses said unto the Lord, O my Lord, I am not eloquent, neither heretofore, nor since thou hast spoken unto thy servant: but I am slow of speech, and of a slow tongue. And the Lord said unto him, Who hath made man's mouth? or who maketh the dumb, or deaf, or the seeing, or the blind? have not I the Lord? Now therefore go, and I will be with thy mouth, and teach thee what thou shalt say. And he said, O my Lord, send, I pray thee, by the hand of him whom thou wilt send. And the anger of the Lord was kindled against Moses, and he said, Is not Aaron the Levite thy brother? I know that he can speak well. And also, behold, he cometh forth to meet thee: and when he seeth thee, he will be glad in his heart. And thou shalt speak unto him, and put words in his mouth: and I will be with thy mouth, and with his mouth, and will teach you what ye shall do." Exod. 34:27--"And the Lord said unto Moses, Write thou these words: for after the tenor of these words I have made a covenant with thee and with Israel." Num. 17:2, 3--"Speak unto the children of Israel, and take of every one of them a rod according to the house of their fathers, of all their princes according to the house of their fathers, twelve rods: write thou every man's name upon his rod. And thou shalt write Aaron's name upon the rod of Levi: for one rod shall be for the head of the house of their fathers." Isa. 8:1, 11, 12--"Moreover the Lord said unto me, Take thee a great roll, and write in it with a man's pen concerning Maher-shalal-hash-baz. For the Lord spake thus to me with a strong hand, and instructed me that I should not walk in the way of this people, saying, Say ye not, A confederacy, to all them to whom this people shall say, A confederacy; neither fear ye their fear, nor be afraid." Jer. 1:7--"But the Lord said unto me, Say not, I am a child: for thou shalt go to all that I shall send thee, and whatsoever I command thee thou shalt speak." Jer. 7:27--"Therefore thou shalt speak all these words unto them; but they will not hearken to thee; thou shalt also call unto them; but they will not answer thee." Jer. 13:12--"Therefore thou shall speak unto them this word: This saith the Lord God of Israel, Every bottle shall be filled with wine: and they shall say unto thee, Do we not certainly know that every bottle shall be filled with wine?" Jer. 30:1, 3--"The word that came to Jeremiah from the Lord, saying. Thus speaketh the Lord God of Israel, saying, Write thee all the words that I have spoken unto thee in a book." Jer. 36: 1, 2, 4, 11, 27-32--"And it came to pass in the fourth year of Jehoiakim the son of Josiah king of Judah, that this word came unto Jeremiah from the Lord, saying, Take thee a roll of a book, and write therein all the words that I have spoken unto thee against Israel, and against Judah, and against all the nations, from the day I spake unto thee, from the days of Josiah, even unto this day. Then Jeremiah called Baruch the son of Neriah; and Baruch wrote from the mouth of Jeremiah all the words of the Lord, which he had spoken unto him, upon a roll of a book. When Michaiah the son of Gemariah, the son of Shaphan, had heard out of the book all the words of the Lord. . . . Then the word of the Lord came to Jeremiah, after that the king had burned the roll, and the words which Baruch wrote at the mouth of Jeremiah, saying, Take thee again another roll, and write in it all the former words that were in the first roll, which Jehoiakim the king of Judah hath burned. And thou shalt say to Jehoiakim king of Judah, Thou saith the Lord; Thou hast burned this roll, saying, Why hast thou written therein, saying, The king of Babylon shall certainly come and destroy this land, and shall cause to cease from thence man and beast? Therefore thus saith the Lord of Jehoiakim king of Judah; He shall have none to sit upon the throne of David: and his dead body shall be cast out in the day to the heat, and in the night to the frost. And I will punish him and his seed and his servants for their iniquity; and I will bring upon them, and upon the inhabitants of Jerusalem, and upon the men of Judah, all the evil that I have pronounced against them; but they hearkened not. Then took Jeremiah another roll, and give it to Baruch the scribe, the son of Neriah, who wrote therein from the mouth of Jeremiah all the words of the book which Jehoiakim king of Judah had burned in the fire; and there were added besides unto them many like words." Also Ezek. 2:7; 3:10, 11; 24:2; 37:16; Hab. 2:2; Zech. 7:8-12. 1 Cor. 14:37--"If any man think himself to be a prophet, or spiritual, let him acknowledge that the things that I write unto you are the commandments of the Lord." Rev. 2:1, 8, 12, 18--"Unto the angel of the church of Ephesus write; These things saith he that holdeth the seven stars in his right hand, who walketh in the midst of the seven golden candle-sticks . . . . And unto the angel of the church in Smyrna write; These things saith the first and the last, which was dead, and is alive . . . . And to the angel of the church in Pergamos write; These things saith he which hath the sharp sword with two edges . . . . And unto the angel of the church in Thyatira write; These things saith the Son of God, who hath his eyes like unto a flame of fire, and his feet are like fine brass." Also 3:1; 7:14. Rev. 10:4--"And when the seven thunders had uttered their voices, I was about to write: and I heard a voice from heaven saying unto me, Seal up those things which the seven thunders uttered, and write them not." To sum up these two arguments, then, let us say, regarding the nature of the inspiration of the sacred writings, that part of them claim to be the very words and writings of God Himself, spoken by His own mouth, or written by His own hand: that another part claim to be the record of words spoken to certain men who wrote them down just as they were spoken. And yet if this is all that is involved in inspiration, shall we not be robbed of a very beautiful and helpful fact, namely, that the Holy Spirit saw fit to preserve the characteristics of the writers? Do not the works of James, the faith of Paul, and the love of John appeal to us in their own peculiar way? This leads to the statement that c) In a Certain Sense, and in Respect to Some Parts of the Scripture, the Authors Were (Humanly Speaking) Left to Choose Their Own Words in Relating Divine Truth. This was by no means true of all the sacred writings. There are instances recorded of men who spoke without knowing what they were saying; and of men and animals speaking without knowledge of the substance of their message: John 11:49-52--"And one of them, named Caiaphas, being the high priest that same year, said unto them, Ye know nothing at all, nor consider that it is expedient for us, that one man should die for the people, and that the whole nation perish not. And this spake he not of himself; but being high priest that year, he prophesied that Jesus should die for that nation; and not for that nation only, but that also he should gather together in one the children of God that were scattered abroad." Num. 22:28-30--"And the Lord opened the mouth of the ass, and she said unto Balaam, What have I done unto thee, that thou hast smitten me these three times? And Balaam said unto the ass, Because thou has mocked me: I would there were a sword in mine hand, for now would I kill thee. And the ass said unto Balaam, Am not I thine ass, upon which thou hast ridden ever since I was thine unto this day? was I ever wont to do so unto thee? And he said, Nay." Dan. 12:8, 9--"And I heard, but I understood not: then said I, 0 my Lord, what shall be the end of these things? And he said, Go thy way, Daniel: for the words are closed up and sealed till the time of the end." And yet the gift of inspiration admitted of personal, diligent, and faithful research into the facts recorded--Luke 1:1-4. This fact allowed the expression of the same thought in different words, such differences (by no means discrepancies) between the accounts of inspired men as would be likely to arise from the different standpoint of each. Examples: Matt. 26:26, 27--"And as they were eating, Jesus took bread, and blessed it, and brake it, and gave it to the disciples, and said, Take, eat; this is my body. And he took the cup, and gave thanks, and gave it to them, saying, Drink ye all of it." Luke 22:19, 20--"And he took bread, and gave thanks, and brake it, and gave unto them, saying, this is my body which is given for you; this do in remembrance of me. Likewise also the cup after supper, saying, This cup is the new testament in my blood, which is shed for you." 1 Cor. 11:24, 25--"And when he had given thanks, he brake it, and said, Take, eat; this is my body, which is broken for you; this do in remembrance of me. After the same manner also he took the cup, when he had supped, saying, This cup is the new testament in my blood; this do ye, as oft as ye drink it, in remembrance of me." Matt. 3:17--"And lo a voice from heaven, saying, This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased." Mark 1:11--"And there came a voice from heaven, saying, Thou art my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased." Luke 3:22--"And the Holy Ghost descended in a bodily shape like a dove upon him, and a voice came from heaven, which said, Thou art my beloved Son; in thee I am well pleased." The Spirit employed the attention, the investigation, the memory, the fancy, the logic, in a word, all the faculties of the writer, and wrought through them. He guided the writer to choose what narrative and materials, speeches of others, imperial decrees, genealogies, official letters, state papers or historical matters he might find necessary for the recording of the divine message of salvation. He wrought in, with, and through their spirits, so as to preserve their individuality to others. He used the men themselves, and spoke through their individualities. "The gold was His; the mould was theirs." DID INSPIRATION AFFECT THE WORDS USED? If the question be asked whether or not inspiration affected the words, it must be answered in the affirmative. It is hardly possible that inspiration could insure the correct transmission of thought without in some way affecting the words. Yet it affected the words not directly and immediately by dictating them in the ears of the writers, but mediately, through working on their minds and producing there such vivid and clear ideas of thoughts and facts that the writers could find words fitted to their purpose. We must conclude, therefore, that while from the divine side the Holy Spirit gave through men clearly and faithfully that which He wished to communicate, from the human side that communication came forth in language such as men themselves would naturally have chosen. This may seem to some to be an impossibility, and they would allege that if the words were affected by inspiration at all, there must have been dictation. But the must is a _non sequitur._ It is admitted that God works His purposes in the world through the ordinary actions of men, while yet no violence is done to their freedom. It is admitted, also, that God, through the gracious operations of His Holy Spirit, works in the hearts of His people so as to develop in each of them the new man, while yet the individuality of each is preserved; and the type of piety is just as distinct in each Christian as the style is in each of the sacred writers. These cases are so nearly parallel as to suggest that all denials of the possibility of inspiration without the destruction of the individual characteristics are as unphilosophical as they are unwarranted. We may therefore safely say that in a very real sense the words as well as the thoughts have been given, whether mediately or immediately, under the influence of the divine Spirit. We claim that the Bible is in deed and in truth the very Word of God; that it is the Word of God in the language of men; truly divine, and at the same time truly human; that it is the revelation of God to His creatures; that infallible guidance was given to those who wrote it, so as to preserve them from error in the statement of facts; that what the writers of the Scriptures say or write under this guidance is as truly said and written by God as if their instrumentality were not used at all; that the ideas expressed therein are the very ideas the Holy Ghost intended to convey; that God is in the fullest sense responsible for every word. This is what the Bible claims for itself. THE DOCTRINE OF ANGELS. I. THEIR EXISTENCE. 1. THE TEACHING OF JESUS. 2. THE TEACHING OF THE APOSTLES. II. THEIR NATURE. 1. CREATED BEINGS. 2. SPIRITUAL BEINGS. 3. GREAT POWER AND MIGHT. 4. VARIOUS GRADES. 5. THE NUMBER OF ANGELS. III. THE FALL OF ANGELS. 1. TIME AND CAUSE. 2. THE WORK OF FALLEN ANGELS. 3. THE JUDGMENT OF FALLEN ANGELS. IV. THE WORK OF ANGELS. 1. THEIR HEAVENLY MINISTRY. 2. THEIR EARTHLY MINISTRY. a) In Relation to the Believer. b) In Relation to Christ's Second Coming. THE DOCTRINE OF ANGELS. We are not to think that man is the highest form of created being. As the distance between man and the lower forms of life is filled with beings of various grades, so it is possible that between man and God there exist creatures of higher than human intelligence and power. Indeed, the existence of lesser deities in all heathen mythologies presumes the existence of a higher order of beings between God and man, superior to man and inferior to God. This possibility is turned into certainty by the express and explicit teaching of the Scriptures. It would be sad indeed if we should allow ourselves to be such victims of sense perception and so materialistic that we should refuse to believe in an order of spiritual beings simply because they were beyond our sight and touch. We should not thus shut ourselves out of a larger life. A so-called liberal faith may express unbelief in such beings. Does not such a faith (?) label itself narrow rather than liberal by such a refusal of faith? Does not a liberal faith mean a faith that believes _much,_ not little--as much, not as little, as possible? I. THEIR EXISTENCE. 1. THE TEACHING OF JESUS. Matt. 18:10--"For I say unto you, That in heaven their angels do always behold the face of my Father which is in heaven." Mark 13:32--"But of that day and that hour knoweth no man, no, not the angels which are in heaven." 8:38; Matt. 13:41; 26:53. These are a sufficient number of passages, though they are by no means all, to prove that Jesus believed in the existence of angels. Jesus is not here speaking in any accommodative sense. Nor is He simply expressing a superstitious belief existing among the Jews at that time. This was not the habit of Jesus. He did not fail to correct popular opinion and tradition when it was wrong, e.g., His rebuke of the false ceremonialism of the Pharisees, and the unbelief of the Sadducees in the resurrection. See also the Sermon on the Mount (Matt. 5:20-37). 2. THE TEACHING OF PAUL, AND OTHER APOSTLES. 2 Thess. 1:7--"And to you who are troubled, rest with us, when the Lord Jesus shall be revealed from heaven with His mighty angels," Col. 2:18--"Let no man beguile you of your reward in a voluntary humility and worshipping of angels." Is not one of the principal reasons for the writing of the Epistle to the Colossians to correct the gnostic theory of the worshipping of angels? See also Eph. 1:21, Col. 1:16. John believed in an angelic order of beings: John 1:51; Rev. 12:7; 22:9. Peter: 1 Pet. 3:22; 2 Pet. 2:11. See also Jude 9; Luke 22:43; Mark 8:38; Heb. 12:22. These and numerous other references in the Scriptures compel the candid student of the Word to believe in the existence of angels. II. THE NATUEE OF ANGELS. 1. THEY ABE CREATED BEINGS. Col. 1:16--"For by him were all things created, that are in heaven, and that are in earth, visible and invisible, whether they be thrones, or dominions, or principalities, or powers; all things were created by him, and for him." Angels are not the spirits of the departed, nor are they glorified human beings (Heb. 12:22, 23). Neh. 9:6--"Thou, even thou, art Lord alone; thou hast made heaven, the heaven of heavens, with all their host." 2. THEY ARE SPIRITUAL BEINGS. Heb. 1:14--"Are they not all ministering spirits?" Psa. 104:4--"Who maketh his angels spirits; his ministers a flaming fire." It is thought by some that God creates angels for a certain purpose, and when that purpose is accomplished they pass out of existence. But that there are many, many angels in existence all the time is clear from the teaching of the Scriptures. Although the angels are "spirits," they nevertheless oft-times have appeared to men in visible, and even human form (Gen. 19; Judges 2:1; 6:11-22; Matt. 1:20; Luke 1:26; John 20:12). There seems to be no sex among the angels, although wherever the word "angel" is used in the Scriptures it is always in the masculine form. 3. THEY ARE BEINGS OF GREAT MIGHT AND POWER. 2 Pet, 2:11--"Whereas angels, which are greater in power and might (than man)." Psa. 103:20--"Angels that excel in strength." One angel was able to destroy Sodom and Gomorrah, and other guilty cities; one angel smote the first-born, and rolled away the great stone from the mouth of the tomb. One angel had power to lay hold of that old dragon, the devil (Rev. 20:2, 10); one angel smote a hundred and fourscore and five thousand Assyrians (Isa. 37:36). Their power is delegated; they are the angels of _His_ might (2 Thess. 1:7), the ministers through whom God's might is manifested. They are mighty, but not almighty. 4. THERE ARE VARIOUS RANKS AND ORDERS OF ANGELS. We read of Michael, the archangel (Jude 9; 1 Thess. 4:16); angels, authorities, and powers--which are supposedly ranks and orders of angels (1 Pet. 3:22; Col. 1:16). In the Apocryphal books we find a hierarchy with seven archangels, including Michael, Gabriel, Raphael, Uriel. The fact that but one archangel is mentioned in the Scriptures proves that its doctrine of angels was not derived, as some supposed, from Babylonian and Persian sources, for there we find seven archangels instead of one. 5. THE NUMBER OF ANGELS. Heb. 12:22, R. V.--"Innumerable hosts of angels." Cf. 2 Kings 6:17; Matt. 26:53; Job 25:3. III. THE FALL OF ANGELS. Originally all angels were created good. The Scriptures speak of a fall of angels--"the angels that sinned." 2 Pet. 2:4--"For if God spared not the angels that sinned, but cast them down to hell, and delivered them into chains of darkness, to be reserved unto judgment." Jude 6--"And the angels which kept not their first estate, but left their own habitation, he hath reserved in everlasting chains under darkness unto the judgment of the great day." 1. THE TIME OF THE FALL OF ANGELS. Some maintain that it took place before the creation recorded in Genesis 1:2--between verses one and two; that it was this fall which made the original creation (Gen. 1:1) "waste and void." This view can neither be proven nor refuted, nevertheless the great and awful fact of a fall of angels remains. (See under Doctrine of Satan, p. 225, for fall of angels in connection with the fall of Satan.) 2. THE CAUSE OF THE FALL OF ANGELS. Peter does not specify the sin. Jude says they "kept not their first estate, but left their own habitation." This, taken in connection with Deut. 32:8, which seems to indicate that certain territories or boundaries were appointed unto the angels, and Gen. 6:1-4, which speaks of the "sons of God" (which some suppose to refer to angels, which, however, is questionable), might seem to imply that the sin of the angels consisted in leaving their own abode and coming down to cohabit with the "daughters of men." Thus their sin would be that of lust. To some expositors the context in Jude would seem to warrant such a conclusion, inasmuch as reference is made to the sins of Sodom and Gomorrah. But this can hardly be true, for a close study of the text in Genesis 6 shows that by "the sons of God" are meant the Sethites. This would seem to be the true interpretation; if so, then the sin recorded in Genesis 6 would be (1) natural and not monstrous; (2) Scriptural, and not mythical (cf. Num. 25; Judges 3:6; Rev. 2:14, 20-22 contains sins of a similar description); (3) accords with the designations subsequently given to the followers of God (Luke 3:38; Rom. 8:14; Gal. 3:26); (4) has a historical basis in the fact that Seth was regarded by his mother as a (the) son of from God, (5) in the circumstance that already the Sethites had begun to call themselves by the name of Jehovah (Gen. 4:26); (6), finally, it is sufficient as a hypothesis, and is therefore entitled to the preference (after Lange). There are still others who say that the sin of the angels was pride and disobedience. It seems quite certain that these were the sins that caused Satan's downfall (Ezek. 28). If this be the true view then we are to understand the words, "estate" or "principality" as indicating that instead of being satisfied with the dignity once for all assigned to them under the Son of God, they aspired higher. 3. THE WORK OF FALLEN ANGELS. They oppose God's purposes (Dan. 10:10-14); afflict God's people (Luke 13:16; Matt. 17:15, 16); execute Satan's purposes (Matt. 25:41; 12:26, 27); hinder the spiritual life of God's people (Eph. 6:12); try to deceive God's people (1 Sam. 28:7-20). 4. THE JUDGMENT OF THE FALLEN ANGELS. Jude 6; 2 Pet. 2:4; Matt. 25:41, show that there is no hope of their redemption. Their final doom will be in the eternal fire. According to 1 Cor. 6:3 it would seem as though the saints were to have some part in the judgment of fallen angels. IV. THE WORK OF ANGELS. 1. THEIR HEAVENLY MINISTRY. Isa. 6; Rev. 5:11, 12; 8:3, 4--priestly service and worship. 2. THEIR EARTHLY MINISTRY. To the angels has been committed the administration of the affairs material to sense, e.g., showing Hagar a fountain; appearing before Joshua with a drawn sword; releasing the chains from Peter, and opening the prison doors; feeding, strengthening, and defending the children of God. To the Holy Spirit more particularly has been committed the task of imparting the truth concerning spiritual matters. In general: Angels have a relation to the earth somewhat as follows: They are related to winds, fires, storms, pestilence (Psa. 103:20; 104:4; 1 Chron. 21:15, 16, 27). The nation of Israel has a special relationship to angels in the sense of angelic guardianship (Dan. 12:1; Ezek. 9:1; Dan. 11:1). In particular: Angels have a special ministry with reference to the church of Jesus Christ--the body of believers. They are the saints' "ministering servants" (Heb. 1:14)--they do service for God's people. Illustrations: To Abraham (Gen. 19); to Gideon (Judg. 6); to Mary (Luke 1); to the shepherds (Luke 2); to Peter (Acts 12); to Paul (Acts 27). a) They Guide the Believer. They guide the worker to the sinner (Acts 8:26), and the sinner to the worker (Acts 10:3). Note: The angel guides, but the Spirit instructs (8:29). Are angels interested in conversions? (Luke 15:10). How they watch our dealing with the unsaved! b) They Cheer and Strengthen God's People. 1 Kings 19:5-8; Matt. 4:11; Luke 22:43; cf. Acts 27:4-35; 5:19. c) They Defend, Protect, and Deliver God's Servants. Dan. 6:22; Acts 5:19; 2 Kings 6:18; Gen. 19:11; Acts 12:8-ll; 27:23, 24. d) They Are Eyewitnesses of the Church and the Believer. 1 Tim. 5:21--in matters of preaching, the service of the church, and soul-saving, the angels look on--a solemn and appalling thought. 1 Cor. 4:9--the good angels are spectators while the church engages in fierce battle with the hosts of sin. This is an incentive to endurance. 1 Cor. 11:10--"Because of the angels." Is there intimated here a lack of modesty on the part of the women so shocking to the angels, who veil their faces in the presence of God when they worship. e) They Guard the Elect Dead. Luke 16:22; Matt. 24:31. Just as they guarded Christ's tomb, and as Michael guarded Moses' tomb (Jude 9). f) They Accompany Christ at His Second Coming. Separating the righteous from the wicked (Matt. 25:31, 32; 2 Thess. 1:7, 8). Executing God's wrath upon the wicked (Matt. 13:39-42, R. V. How this is done, no human pen can describe. The most fearful imagery of the Bible is connected with the judgment work of angels (cf. Revelation; fire, hail, blood, plague of locusts, poison of scorpions, etc.)--whether actual or symbolic, it is awful. THE DOCTRINE OF SATAN. I. HIS EXISTENCE AND PERSONALITY. 1. EXISTENCE. 2. PERSONALITY. II. HIS PLACE AND POWER. 1. A MIGHTY ANGEL. 2. PRINCE OF POWER OF THE AIR. 3. GOD OF THIS WORLD. 4. HEAD OF KINGDOM OF DARKNESS. 5. SOVEREIGN OVER DEATH. III. HIS CHARACTER. 1. ADVERSARY. 2. DIABOLOS. 3. WICKED ONE. 4. TEMPTER. IV. OUR ATTITUDE TOWARDS SATAN. 1. LIMITED POWER OF SATAN. 2. RESIST HIM. V. HIS DESTINY. 1. A CONQUERED ENEMY. 2. UNDER ETERNAL CURSE. VI. DEMONS. THE DOCTRINE OF SATAN. Throughout the Scriptures Satan is set forth as the greatest enemy of God and man. Too long has Satan been a subject of ridicule instead of fear. Seeing the Scriptures teach the existence of a personality of evil, man should seek to know all he can about such a being. Much of the ridicule attached to the doctrine of Satan comes from the fact that men have read their fancies and theories into the Scriptures; they have read Milton's _Paradise Lost_ but have neglected the Book of Job; they have considered the experiences of Luther instead of the Epistles of Peter and Jude. To avoid skepticism on the one hand, and ridicule on the other we must resort to the Scriptures to formulate our views of this doctrine. I. THE EXISTENCE AND PERSONALITY OF SATAN. 1. HIS EXISTENCE. To science the existence of Satan is an open question; it neither can deny nor affirm it. Satan's existence and personality can be denied therefore only on purely _a priori_ grounds. The Bible, however, is very clear and positive in its teaching regarding the existence of a personality of evil called the devil. It is popular in some circles today to spell devil with the "d" left off, thus denying his real existence. Matt. 13:19, 39--"Then cometh the wicked one . . . . The enemy that sowed them is the devil." John 13:2--"The devil having now put it into the heart of Judas Iscariot, Simon's son, to betray him." See also Acts 5:3; 2 Cor. 11:3, 14; 2 Pet. 2:4; Jude 6. How Satan came to be is not quite as clear a fact as that he exists. In all probability he was once a good angel. It is claimed by scholarly and reliable interpreters that his fall is portrayed in Ezekiel 28:12-19; cf. Isa 14:12-14. That he was once in the truth but fell from it is evident from John 8:44. His fall (Luke 10:18) was probably in connection with the fall of angels as set forth in such passages as 2 Pet. 2:4; Jude 6. Pride (?) was one of the causes (1 Tim. 3:6; Ezek. 28:15, 17). This fact may account for the expression "Satan and his angels" (Matt. 25:41). Paul doubtless refers to the fact that Satan was once an angel of light (2 Cor. 11:14). Whenever Satan is represented under the form of a serpent, we are to understand such expressions as describing him after his fall. There is certainly no ground for presenting the evil one as having horns, tail, and hoofs. This is only to bring into ridicule what is an exceedingly serious fact. A careful consideration of all the scriptures here given will assure the student that Satan is not a figment of the imagination, but a real being. 2. HIS PERSONALITY. John 8:44--"Ye are of your father the devil, and the lusts of your father ye will do. He was a murderer from the beginning, and abode not in the truth, because there is no truth in him. When he speaketh a lie, he speaketh of his own; for he is a liar, and the father of it." 1 John 3:8--"He that committeth sin is of the devil; for the devil sinneth from the beginning." Satan is here set forth as a murderer, a liar, a sinner--all elements of personality. He had the "power over death" (Heb. 2:14), and is the "prince of this world" (John 14:30). The narrative of Satan in Job. (cc. 1, 2) strongly emphasizes his personality. He is as much a person as the "sons of God," Job, and even God himself. Zech. 3:1, 2; 1 Chron. 21:1; Psa. 109:6 also emphasize the fact of Satan's personality. Throughout all these Scriptures the masculine personal pronoun is used of Satan, and attributes and qualities of personality are ascribed to him. Unless we veto the testimony of the Scriptures we must admit that Satan is a real person. How can any one read the story of the temptation of Christ (Matt. 4:1-11) and fail to realize both parties in the wilderness conflict were persons--Christ, a person; Satan, a person? Such offices as those ascribed to Satan in the Scriptures require an officer; such a work manifests a worker; such power implies an agent; such thought proves a thinker; such designs are from a personality. Our temptations may be said to come from three sources: the world, the flesh, and the devil. But there are temptations which we feel sure come from neither the world nor the flesh, e.g., those which come to us in our moments of deepest devotion and quiet; we can account for them only by attributing them to the devil himself. "That old serpent, the devil, has spoken with fatal eloquence to every one of us no doubt; and I do not need a dissertation from the naturalist on the construction of a serpent's mouth to prove it. Object to the figure if you will, but the grim, damning fact remains." --_Joseph Parker._ There can scarcely be any doubt as to the fact that Christ taught the existence of a personality of evil. There can be but three explanations as to the meaning of His teaching; first, that He accommodated His language to a gross superstition, knowing it to be such--if this be true then what becomes of His sincerity; second, that He shared the superstition not knowing it to be such--then what becomes of His omniscience, of His reliability as a Teacher from God? third, that the doctrine is not a superstition, but actual truth--this position completely vindicates Christ as to His sincerity, omniscience and infallibility as the Teacher sent from God. II. THE PLACE AND POWER OF SATAN. 1. A MIGHTY ANGEL. He was such, and probably is yet. Jude 8, 9--They "speak evil of dignities. Yet Michael the archangel, when contending with the devil, he disputed about the body of Moses, durst not bring against him a railing accusation, but said, The Lord rebuke thee." Daniel 10 shows that Satan has power to oppose one of the chief angels (vv. 12, 13 in particular). In Luke 11:21 Christ calls Satan "a strong man armed." He is "the prince of this world" (John 14:30). 2. PRINCE OF THE POWER OF THE AIR. Eph. 2:2--"The prince of the power of the air, the spirit that now worketh in the children of disobedience." Cf. 6:11, 12. He is also prince of the demons or fallen angels, Matt. 12:24; 9:34; Luke 11:14-18. There is doubtless an allusion here to the fact that the world of evil spirits is organized, and that Satan is at its head. 3. THE GOD OF THIS WORLD. 2 Cor. 4:4--"In whom the god of this world hath blinded the minds of them which believe not." He is "the prince of this world" (John 12:31; 14:30; 16:11; cf. Eph. 2:1, 2; 1 John 5:19). Satan is not only the object of the world's worship, but also the moving spirit of its godless activities. 4. HE HEADS A KINGDOM WHICH IS HOSTILE TO THE KINGDOM OF GOD AND OF CHRIST. Acts 26:18--"To open their eyes, and to turn them from darkness to light, and from the power of Satan unto God." Col. 1:13--"Who hath delivered us from the power of darkness, and hath translated us into the kingdom of his dear Son." The kingdom of light is headed by a person--Jesus Christ; the kingdom of darkness, by a person--Satan. The one is a person equally with the other. 5. HAS SOVEREIGNTY OVER THE REALM OF DEATH. Heb. 2:14--"That . . . . he might destroy him that had the power of death, that is, the devil." It would seem as if the souls of the unregenerate dead are (or were) to some extent under Satan's dominion. III. THE CHARACTER OF SATAN. "We may judge of the nature and character of the evil one by the names and titles ascribed to him." 1. THE ADVERSARY, OR SATAN. Zech. 3:1--"And he showed me Joshua the high priest standing before the angel of the Lord, and Satan standing at his right hand to resist him." (See vv. 1-5.) 1 Pet. 5:8--"Your adversary the devil." Luke 10:18. See for use of the word: Num. 22:22. By adversary is meant one who takes a stand against another. Satan is the adversary of both God and man. 2. THE DEVIL, DIABOLOS. Matt. 13:39--"The enemy . . . . is the devil." John 8:44--"Ye are of your father the devil." This name is ascribed to Satan 33 times at least in the New Testament, and indicates an accuser or slanderer (Rev. 12:9). He slanders God to man (Gen. 3:1-7), and man to God (Job 1:9; 2-4). 3. THE WICKED ONE. Matt. 13:19--"Then cometh the wicked one." Matt. 6:13 (R. V.); 1 John 5:19 (R. V.). This title suggests that Satan is not only wicked himself, but is also the source of all wickedness in the world. 4. THE TEMPTER. Matt. 4:3--"And when the tempter came to him." See Gen. 3:1-6. None escape his temptations. He is continually soliciting men to sin. In this connection we may speak of the cunning and malignity of Satan (Gen. 3:1). Satan transforms himself into an angel of light (2 Cor. 11:14). This phase of his work is well illustrated in the temptation of Christ (Matt. 4:1-11), and the temptation of Eve (Gen. 3). He fain would help Christ's faith, stimulate His confidence in the divine power, and furnish an incentive to worship. The Scriptures speak of the "wiles" or subtle methods of the devil (Eph. 6:11, 12). The "old serpent" is more dangerous than the "roaring lion." Satan's subtlety is seen in tempting men in their weak moments (Matt. 4:1-11; Luke 22:40-46); after great successes (John 6:15, cf. vv. 1-14); by suggesting the use of right things in a wrong way (Matt. 4:1-11); in deluding his followers by signs and wonders (2 Thess. 2:9, 10). IV. OUR ATTITUDE TOWARDS SATAN. 1. SO FAR AS THE BELIEVER IS CONCERNED HIS POWER IS LIMITED. Job 1:9-12; 2:4-6. Satan had to ask leave of God to try Job. John 12:31; 16:11. Satan hath been already judged, i.e., his power and dominion over believers was broken at the cross, by reason of Christ's victory there. He had to ask permission to enter even swine (Matt. 8:30-32). Satan is mighty, but not almighty. 2. HE IS TO BE RESISTED. 1 Pet. 5:8, 9--"Be sober, be vigilant; because your adversary the devil, as a roaring lion, walketh about seeking whom he may devour; whom resist steadfast in the faith." James 4:7--"Resist the devil, and he will flee from you." This resistance is best accomplished by submitting to God (Rom. 6:17-33; James 4:7), and by putting on the whole armor of God (Eph. 6:10-20). V. THE DESTINY OF SATAN. 1. HE IS A CONQUERED ENEMY. That is, so far as the believer is concerned; John 12:31; 16:9,10; 1 John 3:8; Col. 2:15. 2. HE IS UNDER A PERPETUAL CURSE. Gen. 3:14, cf. Isa. 65:25. There is no removal of the curse from Satan. 3. HE IS FINALLY TO BE CAST ALIVE INTO THE LAKE OF FIRE, THERE TO BE TORMENTED FOR EVER AND EVER. Matt. 25:41; Rev. 20:10--"And the devil that deceived them was cast into the lake of fire and brimstone, where the beast and the false prophet are, and shall be tormented day and night for ever and ever." VI. DEMONS. (See under "Fallen Angels," p. 217.) THE DOCTRINE OF THE LAST THINGS. A. THE SECOND COMING OF CHRIST. B. THE RESURRECTION. C. THE JUDGMENT. D. THE DESTINY OF THE WICKED. E. THE REWARD OF THE RIGHTEOUS. THE DOCTRINE OF THE LAST THINGS. Under this caption are treated such doctrines as the Second Coming of Christ, the Resurrection of both the righteous and wicked, the Judgments, Final Awards, and Eternal Destiny. A. THE SECOND COMING OF CHEIST. I. ITS IMPORTANCE. 1. PROMINENCE IN THE SCRIPTURES. 2. THE CHRISTIAN HOPE. 3. THE CHRISTIAN INCENTIVE. 4. THE CHRISTIAN COMFORT. II. ITS NATURE. 1. PERSONAL AND VISIBLE COMING TO THE EARTH. 2. DIFFERENT VIEWS. 3. DISTINCTIONS. III. ITS PURPOSE. WITH REFERENCE TO-- 1. THE CHURCH. 2. THE UNREGENERATE. 3. THE JEWS. 4. THE ENEMIES OF GOD. 5. THE MILLENNIUM. IV. ITS DATE. 1. DAY AND HOUR UNKNOWN. 2. RECOGNIZING THE "SIGNS." 3. IMMINENT. A. THE SECOND COMING OF CHRIST. I. ITS IMPORTANCE. 1. ITS PROMINENCE IN THE SCRIPTURES. It is claimed that one out of every thirty verses in the Bible mentions this doctrine; to every one mention of the first coming the second coming is mentioned eight times; 318 references to it are made in 216 chapters; whole books (1 and 2 Thess., e.g.) and chapters (Matt. 24; Mark 13; Luke 31, e.g.) are devoted to it. It is the theme of the Old Testament prophets. Of course, they sometimes merge the two comings so that it is not at first sight apparent, yet the doctrine is there. (1 Pet. 1:11). Jesus Christ bore constant testimony to His coming again (John 14:3; Matt. 24 and 25; Mark 13; Luke 21; John 21:22). The angels, who bore such faithful testimony to Christ's first advent, bear testimony to His second coming (Acts 1:11; cf. Heb. 2:2, for the faithfulness of their testimony). The apostles faithfully proclaimed this truth (Acts 3:19, 20; 1 Thess. 4:16, 17; Heb. 9:28; 1 John 2:28; Jude 14, 15). 2. THE CHURCH OF CHRIST IS BIDDEN TO LOOK FORWARD TO CHRIST'S SECOND COMING AS ITS GREAT HOPE. Titus 2:13--"Looking for that blessed hope, and the glorious appearing of the great God and our Saviour Jesus Christ." 2 Pet. 3:12. The one great event, that which supersedes all others, towards which the Church is to look, and for which she is to ardently long, is the second coming of Christ. G3. IT IS SET FORTH AS THE DOCTRINE WHICH WILL PROVE TO BE THE GREATEST INCENTIVE TO CONSISTENT LIVING. Matt. 24:44-46; Luke 21:34-36--"And take heed to yourselves, lest at any time your hearts be overcharged with surfeiting, and drunkenness, and cares of this life, and so that day come upon you unawares. . . . Watch ye therefore, and pray always, that ye may be accounted worthy to escape all these things that shall come to pass, and to stand before the Son of man." 1 John 2:28; 3:3. The test which the church should apply to all questions of practice: Would I like to have Christ find me doing this when He comes? 4. IT IS A DOCTRINE OF THE GREATEST COMFORT TO THE BELIEVER. 1 Thess. 4:14-18. After stating that our loved ones who had fallen asleep in Christ should again meet with us at the coming of our Lord, the apostle says, "Wherefore comfort one another with these words." Why then should such a comforting and helpful doctrine as this be spoken against? Many reasons may be suggested: the unreadiness of the church; preconceived views (2 Pet. 3:4); extravagant predictions as to time; lack of knowledge of the Scriptures. May not the guilt on our part for rejecting the second coming of Christ be as great if not greater than that of the Jews for rejecting His first coming? II. WHAT IS MEANT BY THE SECOND COMING OF CHRIST. 1. A PERSONAL AND VISIBLE COMING. Acts 1:11--"Ye men of Galilee, why stand ye gazing up into heaven? This same Jesus, which is taken up from you into heaven, shall so come in like manner as ye have seen him go into heaven." 1 Thess. 4:16, 17--"For the Lord himself shall descend from heaven." Rev. 1:7. From these scriptures we learn that by the second coming of Christ is meant the bodily, personal, and visible coming of our Lord Jesus Christ to this earth with His saints to reign. 2. ERRONEOUS VIEWS CONCERNING THE SECOND COMING OF CHRIST. a) That the Second Coming Means Christ's Coming at Death. This cannot be the meaning, because-- Death is not attended by the events narrated in 1 Thessalonians 4:16, 17. Indeed the second coming is here set forth as the opposite of death for "the dead in Christ shall rise" from the dead when Christ comes again. According to John 14:3, Christ comes for us, and not we go to Him: "I will come again, and receive you unto myself." John 21:21-23--"Peter seeing him (John) saith to Jesus, Lord, and what shall this man do? Jesus saith unto him, If I will that he tarry till I come, what is that to thee? Follow thou me. Then went this saying abroad among the brethren, that that disciple should not die; yet Jesus said not unto him, He shall not die; but, if I will that he tarry till I come, what is that to thee?" 1 Corinthians 15:50-57 declares that at the second coming of Christ we overcome, not succumb to, death. See John 8:51; Matt. 16:28. The foolishness of such interpretation is seen if we substitute the word "death" for the second coming of Christ in such places where this coming is mentioned, e.g., Phil. 3:20; Matt. 16:28--"Verily I say unto you, There be some standing here, which shall not taste of death, till they see the Son of man coming in his kingdom." b) That the Second Coming Means the Coming of the Holy Spirit. There is no doubt but that the coming of the Holy Spirit is a coming (John 14:21-23), but it is by no means _the_ second coming, and for the following reasons: Many of the testimonies and promises of the second coming were given _after_ Pentecost, e.g., Phil. 3:21; 2 Tim. 4:8; 1 Thess. 4:16, 17; 1 Cor. 15:51, 52. Christ does not receive us unto Himself, but comes to us, at Pentecost. In the second coming He takes us, not comes to us. The events of 1 Thessalonians 4:16, 17 did not occur on the day of Pentecost, nor do they occur when the believer receives the Holy Spirit. c) That the Second Coming refers to the Destruction of Jerusalem. Reply: The events of 1 Thessalonians 4:16, 17 did not take place then. John 21:21-23, and Rev. 22:20 were written _after_ the destruction of Jerusalem. From all that has been said then, it seems clear that the second coming of Christ is an event still in the future. 3. THE NEED OF RECOGNIZING THE DISTINCTION BETWEEN CHRIST'S COMING FOR HIS SAINTS AND WITH HIS SAINTS. There is a distinction between the _presence_ and the _appearing_ of Christ: the former referring to His coming _for,_ and the latter _with_ His saints. We should remember, further, that the second coming covers a period of time, and is not the event of a single moment. Even the first coming covered over thirty years, and included the events of Christ's birth, circumcision, baptism, ministry, crucifixion, resurrection, etc. The second coming will also include a number of events such as the rapture, the great tribulation, the millenium, the resurrection, the judgments, etc. III. THE PURPOSE OF THE SECOND COMING. 1. SO FAR AS IT CONCERNS THE CHURCH. 1 Thess. 4:13-17; 1 Cor. 15:50-52; Phil. 3:20, 21, R. V.; 1 John 3:2. When Christ comes again He will first raise the righteous dead, and change the righteous living; simultaneously they shall be caught up to meet the Lord in the air to be with Him for ever. Eph. 5:23, 32; 2 Cor. 11:2; Rev. 19:6-9; Matt. 25:1-10. The Church, the Bride of Christ, will then be married to her Lord. Matt. 25:19; 2 Tim. 4:8; 1 Pet. 5:4; 1 Cor. 3:12-15; 2 Cor. 5:10. Believers will be rewarded for their faithfulness in service at His coming. (See under The Final Beward of the Righteous, page 266.) 2. SO FAR AS IT CONCERNS THE UNCONVERTED NATIONS AND INDIVIDUALS. Matt. 24:30; Rev. 1:7; Matt. 25:31, 32; Rev. 20:11, 12; Isa. 26:21; 2 Thess. 1:7-9. A distinction must be recognized between the judgment of the Living Nations, and that of the Great White Throne. These are not the same, for no resurrection accompanies the judgment of the Living Nations, as in the case of the throne judgment. Further, one thousand years elapse between these two judgments (Rev. 20:7-11). Again, one is at the beginning of the Millennium, and the other at its close. 3. WITH REFERENCE TO THE JEWS. The Jews will be restored to their own land (Isa. 11:11; 60) in an unconverted state; will rebuild the temple, and restore worship (Ezek. 40-48); will make a covenant with Antichrist for one week (seven years), in the midst of which they will break the covenant (Dan. 9:27; 2 Thess. 2); they will then pass through the great tribulation (Matt. 24:21, 22, 29; Rev. 3:10; 7:14); are converted (as a nation) at the coming of Christ (Zech. 12:10; Rev. 1:7); become great missionaries (Zech. 8:13-23); never more to be removed from the land (Amos 9:15; Ezek. 34:28). 4. WITH REGARD TO ANTICHRIST, AND THE ENEMIES OF GOD'S PEOPLE. 2 Thess. 1:7-9; Rev. 19:20; 20:10. These shall be destroyed by the brightness of His coming; will be cast finally into the bottomless pit. 5. TO SET UP THE MILLENNIAL REIGN ON THE EARTH. The Millennium means the thousand years reign of Christ upon the earth (Rev. 20:1-4). Some think that it is the continuation of the _Kingdom Age_ broken off by the unbelief of the Jews at the time of the Apostles. The Millennium begins with the coming of Christ with His saints; with the revelation of Christ after the great tribulation (Matt. 24:29, 30); at the close of the seventieth week of Daniel. For illustration, see Rev. 19:11-14; Dan. 7:21, 22; Zech. 14:3-9. Then comes the destruction of Antichrist, the binding of Satan, and the destruction of the enemies of God's people (Rev. 19:20; 20:1-3, 10). The Judgment of the Living Nations (Matt. 25). The conversion and missionary activity of the Jews (Zech. 8:13-23; cf. Acts 15:14-17). Then, we may have a converted world, but not now, nor in this age; Israel, not the Church, then concerned. The nature of the Millennium: It is a Theocracy: Jesus Christ Himself is the King (Jer. 23:5; Luke 1:30-33). The Apostles will, doubtless, reign with Christ over the Jews (Isa. 66; Matt. 19:28); the Church, over the Gentile nations (Luke 19:11-19; Heb. 2:6, 7). The capitol city will be Jerusalem (Isa. 2:1-4). Pilgrimages will be made to the Holy City (Zech. 14:16). The reign of Christ will be one of righteousness and equity (Isa. 11:4; Psa. 98:9). A renovated earth (Rom. 8:19-31; Isa. 65:17; c. 35). The events closing the Millennium are apostasy and rebellion (Rev. 20:7-9); the destruction of Satan (Rev. 20:10); the Great White Throne judgment (Rev. 20:11-15); a new heaven and a new earth (Rev. 21 and 22). IV. THE TIME OF CHRIST'S SECOND COMING. We need to carefully distinguish between Christ's coming _for_ His saints--sometime called the "rapture" or "parousia"; and His coming _with_ His saints--the "revelation" or "epiphany." In considering the matter of the "signs" of Christ's coming we need to pay particular attention to and distinguish between those signs which have been characteristic of and peculiar to many generations, and have, consequently, been repeated; and those which are to characterize specifically the near approach of the coming of Christ. Christians are not altogether in the dark concerning these facts: Luke 21:29-33--"So likewise ye, when ye see these things come to pass, know ye that the kingdom of God is nigh at hand" (v. 36). Also 1 Thess. 5:1-8--"But ye, brethren, are not in darkness, that that day should overtake you as a thief" (v. 4). 1. NO ONE KNOWS THE DAY NOR THE HOUR. Matt. 24:36-42--"But of that day and hour knoweth no man, no, not the angels of heaven, but my Father only" (v. 36). Mark 13:32, cf. Acts 1:7. The Scriptures tell us enough regarding the time of Christ's coming to satisfy our faith, but not our curiosity. These statements of the Master should be sufficient to silence that fanaticism which is so anxious to tell us the exact year, month, and even the day when Christ will come. This day is hidden in the counsels of God. Jesus Himself, by a voluntary unwillingness to know, while in His state of humiliation, showed no curiosity to peer into the chronology of this event. We should not nor ought we to want to know more than Christ did on this point. Can it be that "that day" was not yet fixed in the counsels of the Father, and that its date depended, somewhat at least, upon the faithfulness of the Church in the evangelization of the world? We know not certainly. The Revelation which Jesus gave to John would seem to teach that "that day," which was at one time hidden from Christ, is now, in His state of exaltation, known to Him. 2. YET, WE MUST NOT FOEGET THAT WHILE WE MAY NOT KNOW THE EXACT DAY OR HOUR OF CHRIST'S COMING, WE MAY KNOW WHEN IT IS NEAR AT HAND. (Matt. 24:36-42; 1 Thess. 5:1-5.) There are certain "signs" which indicate its nearness: General apostasy and departure from the faith (1 Tim. 4:1; 2 Tim. 3:1-5; Luke 18:8). A time of great heaping up of wealth (James 5:1-9). A time of great missionary activity (Matt. 24:14). Consider the missionary activity of the last century. Is it not marvellous? Is it a "sign" of His coming? The modern history of the Jews throws much light on the question of the nearness of Christ's coming. The following facts are interesting in this connection: The large number of Jews returning to Palestine; the waning of the power of the Turkish government, which has held Palestine with an iron hand and has excluded the Jew; the plans already before the nations to give the Holy Land to the Jews by consent of the powers; the early and latter rain in Palestine; railroads, electric lights, etc., now in the land long desolate--the fig-tree is budding, and the hour of the coming is at hand. It should not be forgotten in this connection that many of the signs mentioned refer primarily to the coming of Christ _with_ His saints. But if that stage of the coming be near then surely the first stage of it must be. Other signs have reference to the first stage in the one great event of His coming, which is known as the "rapture" or Christ's coming _for_ His saints. 3. IT SEEMS CLEAR FROM THE TEACHING OF THE SCRIPTURES THAT THERE IS NOTHING TO PREVENT THE COMING OF CHRIST FOR HIS SAINTS AT ANY MOMENT. By this is meant that there is nothing, so far as we can sea from the teaching of the Scriptures and the signs of the times, to hinder the introduction of the Day of the Lord, or the Second Coming of Christ looked upon as a great whole--a series of events, by Christ's coming to take His own people unto Himself. In other words, there is nothing to hinder the "rapture" or "parousia"--the "epiphany," "manifestation," or "revelation" is something for a later day. Some objections are offered to this view, the which it will be well to examine and answer even though briefly. First, That the Gospel has not been preached into all the world (Matt. 24:14), therefore the coming of Christ is not imminent. Reply: We must understand the emphatic words of the text: By "end" is meant the end of the age; but the rapture, or Christ's coming _for_ His saints, of which we are here speaking as being imminent, is not the end of the age. By "world" is meant the inhabited earth; by "Gospel," good news; by "witness," not conversion but testimony. Even if these events are to precede the "rapture," have they not all been fulfilled? See Acts 2:5; 8:4; Rom. 10:18; Col. 1:6, 23, for the answer, which is certainly in the affirmative. We must give the same meaning to the word "world" in Romans and Colossians that we do to Matt. 24:14. Further, is the Church the _only_ witness? See Rev. 14:6. If the rapture is not the end of the age, and if an angel can proclaim the Gospel, why cannot part of the work of witnessing be carried on after the rapture? Second, Peter, James, and John were told that they should not taste of death until they had seen the coming of Christ's kingdom (Matt. 16:28; Mark 9:1; Luke 9:27). Reply: True, but was not this fulfilled when they saw Christ on the Transfiguration Mount? Peter, who was there, in his second epistle (1:16-18) distinctly says it was thus fulfilled. Third, The disciples were told that they shall not have gone over all the cities of Israel until the Son of Man be come (Matt. 10:23). Reply: Mark 6:30, Luke 9:10 shows that they did not finish all the cities, nor is there evidence anywhere that they ever did, for Israel rejected the message of the kingdom. May it not be that under the restoration of the Jews and the preaching of the "two witnesses" (Rev. 11) this shall be accomplished? Fourth, Christ said "This generation shall not pass, till all these things be fulfilled." See Matt. 24:34; Luke 21:32; Mark 13:30. Reply: What is meant by a "generation"? Some would say "forty years," consequently the Master referred to the destruction of Jerusalem, which event was the second coming of Christ. But this is not necessarily the case. The word "generation" may refer to the Jewish _race;_ cf. the use of the same Greek word in Matt. 11:16; 16:4; Mark 8:38; Luke 7:31; 16:8; 17:25; Phil. 2:15; Psa. 22:30; 24:6. And in this connection consider carefully the wonderful preservation of the Jewish race. Other nations have passed away, having lost their identity; the Jew remains--that generation (race) has not yet passed away, nor will it "till all these things be fulfilled." [FOOTNOTE: _Jesus is Coming,_ by W.E.B., is heartily recommended as an exceedingly helpful book on this subject. The author is indebted thereto.] B. THE RESURRECTION OF THE DEAD. Under this caption is included the resurrection of both the righteous and the wicked, although, as will be seen later, they do not occur at the same time. I. THIS DOCTRINE CLEARLY TAUGHT IN THE SCRIPTURES. 1. IN THE OLD TESTAMENT. 2. IN THE NEW TESTAMENT. II. THE NATURE OF THE RESURRECTION. 1. LITERAL RESURRECTION OF THE BODIES OF ALL MEN. 2. RESURRECTION OF THE BODY NECESSARY TO COMPLETE SALVATION. 3. THE NATURE OF THE RESURRECTION BODY. a) In General. b) The Body of the Believer. c) The Body of the Unbeliever. III. THE TIME OF THE RESURRECTION. 1. OF THE RIGHTEOUS. 2. OF THE WICKED. I. THE DOCTRINE OF A RESURRECTION CLEARLY TAUGHT IN THE SCRIPTURES. 1. IN THE OLD TESTAMENT. It is set forth in various ways: _In Word:_ Job 19:25-27--"For I know that my redeemer liveth, and that he shall stand at the latter day upon the earth: and though after my skin worms destroy this body, yet in my flesh shall I see God: whom I shall see for myself, and mine eyes shall behold, and not another; though my reins be consumed within me." Also Psa. 16:9; 17:15; Dan. 12:1-3. _In Figure:_ Gen. 22:5 with Heb. 11:19--"Accounting that God was able to raise him up, even from the dead; from whence also he received him in a figure." _In Prophecy:_ Isa. 26:19--"Thy dead men shall live, together with my dead body shall they arise. Awake and sing, ye that dwell in the dust." The words "men" and "together with" may be omitted--"Thy dead (ones) shall live." These words are Jehovah's answer to Israel's wail as recorded in vv. 17, 18. Even if they refer to resurrection of Israel as a nation, they yet teach a bodily resurrection. See also Hosea 13:14. _In Reality:_ 1 Kings 17 (Elijah); 2 Kings 4:32-35 (Elisha and the Shunamite's son); 13:21 (Resurrection through contact with the dead bones of Elisha). The Old Testament therefore distinctly teaches the resurrection of the body. Mark 9:10, which might seem to indicate that the apostles did not know of a bodily resurrection, is accounted for by their unwillingness to believe in a crucified Christ. 2. IN THE NEW TESTAMENT. _In Word:_ Note the teaching of Jesus in John 5:28, 29; c. 6 entire, note especially vv. 39, 40, 44, 54; Luke 14:13, 14; 20:35, 36. The teaching of the apostles: Paul, Acts, 24:15; 1 Cor. 15; 1 Thess. 4:14-16; Phil. 3:11; John, Rev. 20:4-6; 13. _In Reality:_ The resurrection of saints (Matt. 27:52, 53); of Lazarus (John 11); of Jesus Christ (Matt. 28). Our Lord's resurrection assured them of what till then had been a hope imperfectly supported by Scriptural warrant, and contested by the Sadducees. It enlarged that hope (1 Pet. 1:3), and brought the doctrine of the resurrection to the front (1 Cor. 15). II. THE NATURE OF THE RESURRECTION. 1. A LITERAL RESURRECTION OF THE BODIES OF ALL MEN--A UNIVERSAL RESURRECTION. John 5:28--"Marvel not at this: for the hour is coming, in the which all that are in the graves shall hear his voice, and shall come forth." 1 Cor. 15:22--"For as in Adam all die, even so in Christ shall all be made alive." The apostle is speaking of physical death in Adam, and physical resurrection in Christ. Revelation 20:12, and 2 Corinthians 5:10 both show the necessity of the raising of the body in order that judgment may take place according to things done in the body. See also Job's hope (19:25-27); David's hope (Psa. 16:9). An objection is sometimes made to the effect that we literalize these scriptures which are intended to be metaphorical and spiritual. To this we reply: While the exact phrase, "resurrection of the body," does not occur in the Bible, yet these scriptures clearly teach a physical rather than a spiritual resurrection. Indeed John 5:25-29 draws a sharp contrast between a spiritual (v. 25) and a literal (v. 28) resurrection. See also Phil. 3:21; 1 Thess. 4:13-17. 2 Tim. 2:18--"Who concerning the truth have erred, saying that the resurrection is passed already," indicates that the early church believed in a literal resurrection. Surely there is no reference here to a spiritual resurrection such as we read of in Ephesians 5:14. Acts 24:15 speaks of a resurrection of the just and the unjust--this cannot refer to a spiritual resurrection surely. If the resurrection were spiritual then in the future state every man would have two spirits--the spirit he has here, and the spirit he would receive at the resurrection. The term "spiritual body" describes, not so much the body itself, as its nature. The "spiritual body" is body, not spirit, hence should not be considered as defining body. By the term "spiritual body" is meant the body spiritualized. So there is a natural body--a body adapted and designed for the use of the soul; and there is a spiritual body--a body adapted for the use of the spirit in the resurrection day. 2. THE REDEMPTION OF THE BODY IS INCLUDED IN OUR COMPLETE REDEMPTION. Rom. 8:11-23--"And not only they, but ourselves also, which have the first fruits of the Spirit, even we ourselves groan within ourselves, waiting for the adoption, to wit, the redemption of our body" (v. 23). See also 1 Cor. 6:13-20. In John 6:39 and Job 19:25-27 we are taught that the dust into which our bodies have decayed will be quickened, which indicates a physical resurrection. This conception of the value of the body is doubtless what leads to the Christian's care for his dead loved ones and their graves. The believer's present body, which is called "the body of his humiliation" (Phil. 3:21) is not yet fitted for entrance into the kingdom (1 Cor. 15:50). Paul's hope is not for a deliverence from the body, but the redemption of it (2 Cor. 5:4). 3. THE NATURE OF THE RESURRECTION BODY. a) In General. Because the Scripture teaches a literal resurrection of the body it is not necessary to insist on the literal resurrection of the identical body--hair, tooth, and nail--that was laid under the ground. The idea that at the resurrection we are to see hands flying across the sea to join the body, etc., finds no corroboration in the Scriptures. Such an idea is not necessary in order to be true to the Bible teaching. Mere human analogy ought to teach us this (1 Cor. 15:36, 37)--"thou sowest not that body which shall be." The identity is preserved--that is all that we need to insist upon. What that identity tie is we may not yet know. After all it is not so much a question of material identity as of glorified individuality. The growth of the seed shows that there may be personal identity under a complete change of physical conditions. Four things may be said about the resurrection body: first, it is not necessarily identical with that which descended into the grave; second, it will have some organic connection with that which descended into the grave; third, it will be a body which God, in His sovereignty, will bestow; fourth, it will be a body which will be a vast improvement over the old one. b) The Body of the Believer. Phil. 3:21 (R. V.)--"Who shall fashion anew the body of our humiliation, that it may be conformed to the body of his glory, according to the working whereby he is able even to subject all things unto himself." See also 1 John 3:2; 1 Cor. 15:49. What was the nature and likeness of Christ's resurrection body which our resurrection body is to resemble? It was a real body (Luke 24:39); recognizable (Luke 24:31; John 20:16); powerful (John 20:19). Summing up these passages, we may say that the resurrection body of the believer will be like the glorified body of Christ. Characteristics of the believer's resurrection body as set forth in 1 Cor. 15: It is not flesh and blood (vv. 50, 51; cf. Heb. 2:14; 2 Cor. 5:1-6; Luke 24:39)--"flesh and bones," so not pure spirit; a real body. It is incorruptible (v. 43)--no decay, sickness, pain. It is glorious (v. 43), cf. the Transfiguration (Matt. 17); Rev. 1:13-17. It has been said that Adam and Eve, in their unfallen state, possessed a glorious body. The face of Stephen was glorious in his death (Acts 6:15). 2 Cor. 3:18. It is powerful (v. 43)--not tired, or weak; no lassitude; cf. now "spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak"; not so then. It is a spiritual body (v. 44). Here the soul is the life of the body; there the spirit will be the life of the body. It is heavenly (v. 47-49). c) The Resurrection Body of the Unbeliever. The Scriptures are strangely silent on this subject. It is worthy of note that in the genealogies of Genesis 5 no age is attached to the names of those who were not in the chosen line. Is there a purpose here to ignore the wicked? In the story of the Rich Man and Lazarus no name is given to the godless rich man; why? III. THE TIME OF THE RESURRECTION. 1. THE RESURRECTION OF THE RIGHTEOUS. John 6:39, 40, 44--"The last day." This does not mean a day of twenty-four hours, but a period of time. It will be safe, usually, to limit the word "day" to a period of twenty-four hours only where numeral, ordinal, or cardinal occurs in connection therewith, like "fourth day," etc. When the "day of grace," "day of judgment," "this thy day," etc., are mentioned, they refer to periods of time either long or short, as the case may be. 1 Cor. 15:23--"But every man in his own order: Christ the firstfruits; afterwards they that are Christ's at his coming." 1 Thess. 4:14-17. In both these passages the resurrection of the believer is connected with the coming of Christ. This event ushers in the last day; it is treated as a separate and distinct thing. 2. THE RESURRECTION OF THE WICKED. As there is a difference in the issue (John 5:28, 29; Dan. 12:2, cf. literal Hebrew rendering below) so there is as to time between the resurrection of the righteous and that of the wicked. Phil. 3:11--"If by any means I might attain unto the resurrection of (lit. out of) the dead." It was no incentive to Paul simply to be assured that he would be raised from the dead; for he knew that all men would be thus raised. What Paul was striving for was to be counted worthy of that first resurrection--of the righteous from among the wicked. The resurrection "out from among" the dead is the resurrection unto life and glory; the resurrection "of" the dead is to shame and contempt everlasting. 1 Cor. 15:21-24. Note the expressions used, and their meaning: "Then," meaning the next in order, the Greek denoting sequence, not simultaneousness--each in his own cohort, battalion, brigade (cf. Mark 4:28--"First the blade, then the ear, after that the full corn in the ear"). Nineteen hundred years have already elapsed between "Christ the firstfruits" and "they that are Christ's." How many years will elapse between the resurrection of "they that are Christ's" and that of the wicked ("the end") we may not be able to definitely state, but certainly long enough for Christ to have "put all enemies under his feet" (v. 25). Three groups or ranks are here mentioned: "Christ," "they that are Christ's," "the end" (the resurrection of the wicked). (Cf. vv. 5, 6, 7--"Seen of Cephas, then of the twelve: after that . . . after that . . . then . . . and last of all he was seen of me also.") First Christ, afterwards (later than) "they that are Christ's" then (positively meaning afterwards, a new era which takes place after an interval) "cometh the end." Dan. 12:2--"And many of them that sleep in the dust of the earth shall awake, some (lit. those who awake at this time) to everlasting life, and some (lit. those who do not awake at this time) to shame and everlasting contempt." Some of the most eminent Hebrew scholars translate this passage as follows: "And (at that time) many (of thy people) shall awake (or be separated) out from among the sleepers in the earth dust. These (who awake) shall be unto life eternal, but those (who do not awake at that time) shall be unto contempt and shame everlasting." It seems clear from this passage that all do not awake at one (this) time, but only as many as are written in the book (12:1). Eevelation 20:4-6 shows that at least a thousand years--whatever period of time may be thereby designated--elapses between the resurrection of the righteous and the wicked. John 5:28, 29; Dan. 12:2; Rev. 20:12 all show that the resurrection of the wicked is always connected with the judgment, and that takes place at the close and not at the beginning of the Day of the Lord. Whatever difficulties may present themselves in connection with the resurrection, whatever obstacles of a miraculous or supernatural nature may present themselves in connection therewith are to be met by remembering the truth enunciated by Christ in connection with this very subject: Matt. 22:29--"Ye do err, not knowing the scriptures, nor the power of God." (Cf. v. 23.--"The same day came to him the Sadducees, which say that there is no resurrection," etc., and the following verses for the setting of v. 39.) C. THE JUDGMENT. I. THE FACT OF THE JUDGMENT. 1. AS TAUGHT IN THE OLD TESTAMENT. 2. AS TAUGHT IN THE NEW TESTAMENT. 3. THE TESTIMONY OF CONSCIENCE. 4. THE TESTIMONY OF CHRIST'S RESURRECTION. II. THE JUDGE--CHRIST. III. THE NATURE OF THE JUDGMENT. 1. JUDGMENT AT THE CROSS. 2. THE DAILY JUDGMENT. 3. FUTURE JUDGMENT. a) Of the Saints. b) Of the Living Nations. c) Of the Great White Throne. d) Of the Fallen Angels. e) Of Israel. C. THE JUDGMENT. I. THE FACT OF THE JUDGMENT. 1. DISTINCTLY TAUGHT IN THE OLD TESTAMENT. Psa. 96:13--"For he cometh, for he cometh to judge the earth: he shall judge the world with righteousness, and the people with his truth." While this passage refers more particularly to the rewarding of the righteous, yet the idea of judgment is here. Both reward and punishment are involved in the idea of judgment. 2. THE NEW TESTAMENT. Acts 17:31--"Because he hath appointed a day, in the which he will judge the world in righteousness by that man whom he hath ordained; whereof he hath given assurance unto all men, in that he hath raised him from the dead." Heb. 9:27. Just as it is "appointed unto men once to die" so it is appointed unto men to appear before the judgment. There is no more escape from the one than from the other. It is part of the burden of both the Old and New Testament message that a day of judgment is appointed for the world. God's kingdom shall extend universally; but a judgment in which the wicked are judged and the righteous rewarded is necessary and in order that the kingdom of everlasting righteousness may be established upon the earth. 3. THE CONSCIENCE OF ALL MANKIND CORROBORATES THE TEACHING OF THE SCRIPTURES WITH REGARD TO THE CERTAINTY OF A COMING JUDGMENT. This is true of both the individual and universal conscience. The discoveries of tablets as well as the history of all peoples establish this fact. This is enforced by Eccl. 11:9; 12:14--a book which is in a very real sense a book of worldly philosophy, narrating, as it does, the experiences and observations of a man who judged all things from the view-point of "under the sun," i.e., without special reference to any revelation from above. 4. THE RESURRECTION OF JESUS CHRIST IS A SURE AND CERTAIN PROOF WHICH GOD HAS GIVEN TO MEN OF A COMING JUDGMENT. Acts 17:31 (quoted above). Here is "assurance" in the sense of proof or ground of evidence. The context is suggestive: God had long borne with the sins of men, and in a sense, overlooked them. Therefore men have thought that God would continue to do so. But no, this shall not be; there is a day of judgment coming, the evidence of which lies in the fact of the resurrection of Jesus Christ. II. THE JUDGE--CHRIST. John 5:22, 23, 27; 2 Tim. 4:1; 2 Cor. 5:10; Acts 10:42; 17:31. The Man of the Cross is the Man of the Throne. Note the expression "Because he is the Son of Man." That indicates His fitness to judge: He can sympathize. But He is equal with the Father. This too indicates His competency to judge, for it implies omniscience. The texts which speak of God as judging the world are to be understood as referring to God the Son. No appeal can be made from the Son to the Father. III. THE NATURE OF THE JUDGMENT. The erroneous idea that there is to be one great general judgment which is to take place at the end of the world, when all mankind shall stand before the great white throne, is to be guarded against. The judgments of the Bible differ as to time, place, subjects, and results. 1. THERE IS A JUDGMENT THAT IS ALREADY PAST--THE JUDGMENT AT THE CROSS. John 5:24; 12:31; 2 Cor. 5:21; Gal. 3:13; 1 Pet. 3:24. At this judgment bar Satan was judged and his power over the believer broken. Here also the sins of the believer were judged and put away. 2. THERE IS A PRESENT JUDGMENT WHICH IS TAKING PLACE DAILY IN THE LIFE OF THE BELIEVER. 1 Cor. 11:31, 32; 5:5; 1 Tim. 1:20; cf., for illustration, 2 Sam. 7:14, 15; 12:13,14. This continual judgment must be going on in the life of the believer or there will be judgment from God because of the consequent failure to grow in grace. There must be constant and continual judging of sin as it comes up in the believer's life (1 John 1:5-7). 3. THERE IS A FUTURE JUDGMENT. a) Of the Saints. 1 Cor. 3:8-16; 2 Cor. 5:10; 1 Cor. 4:5. This is to be a judgment with reference to the works, not the salvation, of the believer. It is called "the judgment seat of Christ." That the saints are here referred to is clear from 2 Cor. 5:1, 5, 7, 9; also 1 Cor. 4:5 which says that those who are judged "shall have praise of God." This is not true of the wicked. This is a judgment, not for destiny, but for adjustment, for reward or loss according to our works, for position in the kingdom; every man according as his work shall be. b) Of the Living Nations. Matt. 25:31-46. This judgment will take place at the coming of Christ with His saints. Note three things in this chaper: first, the marriage supper of the Lamb (w. 1-13); second, the judgment of the saints (vv. 14-30); third, the judgment of the living nations (vv. 31-46). This is not a general judgment of good and bad, for there are three classes here. "My brethren" can hardly refer to the saints, for then it would be "inasmuch as ye have done it unto yourselves, ye have done it unto me." Nor is the Church in this judgment, for she is already translated and rewarded as we have seen. The Church no more belongs to the nations than does Israel. The nations are those who deal with Israel through the great tribulation. The "brethren" are probably the Jewish remnant who have turned to Christ during the great tribulation and whom the Antichrist has severely persecuted as also have many of the wicked nations, like Russia today. This is a judgment of nations that are living; there is no mention of the dead. c) Of the Great White Throne. Rev. 20:11-15. It is called the final judgment and takes place at the close of the millennium, after the judgment of the living nations (Matt. 25). It is a judgment of "the dead"; no mention is made of the living in connection therewith. Note the difference between the judgments of the Living Nation and of the Great White Throne: the former at the beginning, the latter at the close of the millennium; one deals with the living, the other with the dead; one deals with conduct towards "the brethren," the other with general sins recorded in the books. d) Of Israel. Ezek. 20:33-44; Psa. 50:16-22. Takes place probably at the end of the great tribulation. e) Of the Fallen Angels. Jude 6; 2 Pet. 2:4. Believers are associated with Christ in this judgment (1 Cor. 6:3). D. THE FINAL DESTINY OF THE WICKED. I. PRELIMINARY CONSIDERATIONS. 1. DIFFERENCE BETWEEN FUTURE OF THE RIGHTEOUS AND WICKED. 2. DIFFICULTY OF FIGURATIVE LANGUAGE. 3. DISPARITY IN NUMBER OF THE SAVED AND LOST. 4. PROPHECY VS. HISTORY. II. THE WICKED DIE IN THEIR SINS. III. THE WICKED ARE NOT ANNIHILATED. IV. THE WICKED ARE RAISED FROM THE DEAD FOR JUDGMENT. V. THE PUNISHMENT DESCRIBED. 1. DEATH. 2. ETERNAL. 3. PUNISHMENT. 4. FIRE. 5. DARKNESS. D. THE FINAL DESTINY OF THE WICKED. "Every view of the world has its eschatology. It cannot help raising the question of the whither, as well as of the what and the whence? '0, my Lord,' said Daniel to the angel, 'what shall be the end of these things?' (12:8). What is the end, the final destiny of the individual? Does he perish at death, or does he enter into another state of being; and under what conditions of happiness or woe does he exist there? What is the end, the final aim of the great whole, that far-off divine event towards which the whole creation moves? It is vain to tell man not to ask these questions. He will ask them, and must ask them. He will pore over every scrap of fact, or trace of law, which seems to give an indication of an answer. He will try from the experience of the past, and the knowledge of the present, to deduce what the future shall be. He will peer as far as he can into the unseen; and, where knowledge fails, will weave from his hopes and trusts pictures and conjectures. "The Christian view of the world also has its eschatology. The Christian view, however, is positive, where that of science is negative; ethical, where it is material; human, where it is cosmogonic; ending in personal immortality, where this ends in extinction and death. The eschatology of Christianity springs from its character as a teleological religion--it seeks to grasp the unity of the world through the conception of an end or aim."--_James Orr._ This is probably the hardest of all the doctrines of Christianity to be received. If we ask the reason why, we receive various answers. Some would tell us that this doctrine is unwelcome to many because they feel themselves guilty, and their conscience tells them that unless they repent and turn to God this awful doom awaits them. Others believe that it is because the thought of future punishment strikes terror to people's hearts, and therefore this doctrine is repulsive to them. To others again, the thought of future anguish seems utterly incompatable with the fatherly love of God. Yet it is acknowledged to be a remarkable fact that both Jesus and John, who more than any one else in the New Testament represent the element of love in their lives and teaching, speak most of the future anguish of the wicked. That future punishment of the wicked holds a prominent place in the teachings of the Scriptures there can be no reasonable doubt. What is between the covers of the Bible is the preacher's message. Yet great care must be exercised in the teaching or proclamation of this doctrine. After all it is not the saying of hard things that pierces the conscience of people; it is the voice of divine love heard amid the thunder. Yet there must be no consciousness of cowardice in proclaiming the doctrine of future retribution, however awful its delineation may be. Fear is a legitimate motive to which we may appeal, and while it may be classed among the lower motives, it is nevertheless true that it is the only motive that will effectively move some people to action. SOME RECOGNIZED FACTS. There are certain preliminary facts which should be recognized in the discussion of this subject: 1. That it shall be well with the righteous, and woe to the wicked (Isa. 3:10, 11). That there is to be retribution for sin and a reward for the righteous must be held to be beyond question, and must be recognized as an unchangeable law. One cannot very well meddle with that truth without serious danger. So long as a man persistently, willingly and knowingly continues in his sin he must suffer for it. That suffering the Bible calls eternal death. 2. We must recognize that much of the language of the Scripture dealing with this condition is couched in figurative terms. But the condition is none the less real because of that, for, generally speaking, the reality is more severe than the figure in which it is set forth. Yet we need caution here, and must distinguish between the things that are stated in clear unmistakable language and those that are set forth in words symbolic and figurative. 3. The disparity in the number of saved and lost. There is a danger lest we should be unmindful of the problems connected with this doctrine, such as that seeming fewness of the saved; the condition of the heathen who have not had a chance to hear the Gospel; and the difference in privilege and opportunity among those who live in so-called Christian lands. 4. Prophecy vs. History. We must recognize that it is more difficult to deal with facts which lie in the future than with those lying in the past. Prophecy is always more difficult to deal with than history. The past we may sketch in details, the future but in broad outlines. "Our treatment of themes that deal with the future must, in the very nature of the case be very different than it would be were we dealing with the things of the past. History and prophecy must be handled differently. In dealing with the history of God's past revelations--with the ages before the Advent, with the earthly life and revelation of Jesus Christ, with the subsequent course of God's providence in the Church--we are dealing with that which has already been. It stands in concrete reality before us, and we can reason from it as a thing known in its totality and its details. But when the subject of revelation is that which is yet to be, especially that which is yet to be under forms and conditions of which we have no direct experience, the case is widely altered. Here it is at most outlines that we can look for; and even these outlines will be largely clothed in figure and symbol; the spiritual kernel will seek material investiture to body itself forth; the conditions of the future will require to be presented largely in forms borrowed from known relations. The outstanding thoughts will be sufficiently apparent, but the thoughts in which these thoughts are cast will partake of metaphor and image."--_James Orr._ II. THE WICKED ARE SAID TO "DIE IN THEIR SINS." John 8:21, 24--"Then said Jesus again unto them, I go my way, and ye shall seek me, and shall die in your sins: whither I go, ye cannot come. I said therefore unto you, that ye shall die in your sins: for if ye believe not that I am he, ye shall die in your sins." Rom. 6:23--"For the wages of sin is death." See Rev. 20:14, 15; 21:8. The "death" spoken of here does not mean cessation of existence any more than eternal life means the beginning of existence. Eternal life does not mean merely to live for ever, but to live in a state of blessedness for ever. Eternal life deals not so much with quantity as with quality of existence. Just so with eternal death. It is a quality of existence, not cessation of being. Even in this life death can co-exist with life: "But she that liveth in pleasure is dead while she liveth" (1 Tim. 5:6); Eph. 2:1. What men call life God calls death. There are two things which the believer gets: at his regeneration, eternal life; at his resurrection, immortality; but in both instances he already has life and existence. So it is in the case of the wicked: the second death does not mean cessation of existence, for he is dead already, now in this life (1 Tim. 5:6; Eph. 2:1; John 5:24, 25). Rev. 21:8 describes what "death," as here used, means: "But the fearful, and the unbelieving... shall have their part in the lake which burneth with fire and brimstone: which is the second death." III. THE WICKED ARE NOT ANNIHILATED. The texts most strongly urged as teaching the annihilation theory, if rightly interpreted, will be seen to refer to removal from off the earth, and not to future retribution. Here are the principal passages: Psa. 37:20--"But the wicked shall perish, and the enemies of the Lord shall be as the fat of lambs: they shall consume; into smoke shall they consume away." This psalm is written for the encouragement of Israel and against her enemies and their power on the earth. This earthly power shall be utterly broken, and be of no more account than the smoke of a burnt sacrifice. The great truth taught here is that the earth is the inheritance of the saints, and that the wicked shall have no part in it. Obadiah 16--" . . . And they shall be as though they had not been." These words are taken from the vision regarding Edom, and refer to the destruction of the Edomites and their land, and not to the future of the wicked in the next life. In speaking of the "everlasting punishment" with which the wicked will be visited, as recorded in 2 Thess. 1:9, the annihilationist would say that reference is made to the "results or consequences" of that punishment and not to the punishment itself. But the Scriptures state that it is the "punishment" itself, and not the consequences, that is everlasting. No such interpretation as that put upon these passages by those holding the annihilation theory can be maintained by sound exegesis. What need is there of a resurrection if the wicked are to be annihilated at death, or why should they be raised from the dead if only to be at once extinguished for ever? Again, there is no such thing as "unconscious" punishment. You cannot punish anything that is unconscious. Can you punish a stone or a house? Punishment can take place only where there is consciousness on the part of the one suffering. IV. THE WICKED ARE TO BE PUNISHED. Rom. 2:8, 9--"But unto them that are contentious, and do not obey the truth, but obey unrighteousness, indignation and wrath, tribulation and anguish, upon every soul of man that doeth evil, of the Jew first, and also of the Gentile." "Wrath" indicates the settled mind of God towards the persistently wicked (John 3:36); "indignation," the outbreak of that wrath at the day of judgment; "tribulation," severe affliction (Matt. 13:21; 24:9; Rev. 7:14); "anguish," torturing confinement in a strait place without relief, as in a dungeon, or in stocks. God grant that we may never know what these terms fully mean. Matt. 25:41, 46--"Then shall he say also unto them on the left hand, Depart from me, ye cursed, into everlasting fire, prepared for the devil and his angels. And these shall go away into everlasting punishment." 2 Thess. 1:7-9--"When the Lord Jesus shall be revealed from heaven with his mighty angels, in flaming fire taking vengeance on them that know not God, and that obey not the gospel of our Lord Jesus Christ: who shall be punished with everlasting destruction from the presence of the Lord, and from the glory of his power." See also Mark 9:43-50 which speaks of the wicked being cast into "hell, into the fire that never shall be quenched: where their worm dieth not, and the fire is not quenched." There are certain important words in these scriptures which demand our attention, and which we need to understand in order to get right views of the doctrine we are now considering. They are as follows: 1. "ETERNAL." We read of "eternal" or "everlasting" punishment, "everlasting" fire. It is objected that the word "eternal" or "everlasting" does not mean "forever." This may be true. But we are all willing to admit that when this word qualifies the condition of the righteous it means for ever, without end, e.g., the righteous shall go "into life eternal." The same word, however, qualifies the punishment of the wicked, e.g., "these shall go away into everlasting punishment." Fairness demands that we make the joy of the righteous and the punishment of the wicked--both qualified as they are by the same Greek word--of the same duration. If there is an end to the reward of the righteous, there is also to the penalty of the wicked. The one lasts as long as the other. If "destruction" means annihilation, then there is no need of the word "eternal" to qualify it. Further the Scriptures present the punishment of the wicked not only as "eternal" (or age-long) but as enduring "for ever and ever," or "unto the ages of the ages" (Rev. 19:3; 20:10; 14:11, R. V.). Here is a picture of ages tumbling upon ages in eternal succession. 2. "PUNISHMENT." The meaning of this word will be found under the previous division (III) dealing with the subject of Annihilation. 3. "FIRE." This is one of the most constant images under which the torment and misery of the wicked is represented. Fire is a symbol of the divine judgment of wrath (Matt. 5:22). In Matthew 3:10 the godless are represented as a tree hewn down and cast into the fire; in 3:12 the chaff (godless) is burned with unquenchable fire; in 13:42 the wicked are said to be cast into a furnace of fire. Is the "fire" spoken of here _literal_ fire? It is an accepted law of language that a figure of speech is less intense than the reality. If "fire" is merely a figurative expression, it must stand for some great reality, and if the reality is more intense than the figure, what an awful thing the punishment symbolized by fire must be. It is contended that fire must necessarily consume; that nothing could continue to exist in fire. Is it not remarkable that the Baptist uses the word "unquenchable"' (Greek, "asbestos") when speaking of this fire? Is any light thrown on the question by the incident of the three Hebrew children in the fiery furnace? Did they consume, or did they withstand the fire? (Dan. 3:27). In the parable of the Tares (Matt. 13:36-43) our Lord speaks of the tares being burned up. When Christ retired to the house after delivering the parable, his disciples asked Him to explain to them what He meant by the figures of speech He used in the parable. This request He granted. He explained the figurative language of the parable; every figurative word in it except that of "fire." He said: "The field is the world; the good seed are the children of the kingdom; but the tares are the children of the wicked one; the enemy that sowed them is the devil; the harvest is the end of the world; and the reapers are the angels. As therefore the tares are gathered and burned in the fire, so shall it be at the end of this world. . . . And they shall cast them into a furnace of fire: there shall be wailing and gnashing of teeth." Why did not the Master explain what he meant by the figurative word "fire"? He explained all the other figurative words, why not this one? Did He forget? Or did He intend that His disciples should have the impression that He was speaking of literal fire? Here was His opportunity to explain His use of words, for the disciples were asking for just that very thing. Was there any significance in the fact that Jesus did not explain the word "fire"? Whether we believe in literal fire or not, we certainly ought to ask for a reason for the Master's failure to literalize the figurative word "fire." 4. "DARKNESS." This word is used to describe the condition of the lost: "Cast into outer darkness: there shall be weeping and gnashing of teeth." Seven times these terms are found together: Matt. 8:12; 13:42, 50; 22:13; 24:51; 25:30; Luke 13:28. The picture is that of a banquet which was usually held at night. The wicked are thrust out from the light, joy, and festivity into the darkness and gloom without, as into the remote gloom and anguish of a dungeon in which are found agony, wrath, and despair. Is this a description of hell --absence of spiritual light; separation from the company of the saved; lamentation; impotent rage? E. THE FINAL REWARD OF THE RIGHTEOUS. I. THE BELIEVER NEVER DIES. II. THE BELIEVER GOES TO BE WITH CHRIST. III. THE BODY OF THE BELIEVER IS RAISED FROM THE DEAD. IV. THE BELIEVER IS REWARDED. V. THE NATURE OF THE BELIEVER'S REWARD. 1. THE "CROWNS" OF SCRIPTURE. 2. THE SEVEN "OVERCOMES" (REV. 2 AND 3). VI. THE NEW CONDITION AND ABODE OF LIFE FOR THE SAINTS. 1. NEW SPHERE OF LIFE. 2. A NEW HOME. 3. NEW CONDITIONS. E. THE FINAL REWARD OF THE RIGHTEOUS. If, says the Apostle Paul, in this present life we have a hope resting on Christ, and nothing more, we are more to be pitied than all the rest of the world (1 Cor. 15:19). The idea is that if this hope in Christ which the believer has is a delusive hope, with no prospect of fulfillment in the future, the Christian is indeed in a sad state. He has chosen a life of self-denial; he will not indulge in the pleasures of the world, and if there are no pleasures in the darkness into which he is about to enter, then he has miscalculated, he has chosen a life that shall end in self-obliteration. If he has no home to go to, no God to welcome him, no King to say, "Well done, exchange mortality for life," then he is indeed in a pitiable plight. But such is not the case. The hope of the Christian enters beyond the vail, into the very presence of God Himself, and endures throughout all the eternities. I. THE CHRISTIAN NEVER DIES. 1 John 8:51--"Verily, verily, I say unto you, If a man keep my saying, he shall never see death." 11:25, 26--"Jesus said unto her, I am the resurrection, and the life: he that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live: and whosoever liveth and believeth in me shall never die. Believest thou this?" What Jesus means here is not that the believer shall not pass through the experience that we call death, but that in reality it is not death, at least, not in the sense in which it is death to the unbeliever. Jesus has taken the sting out of death. How sharply the contrast between death and the experience through which the believer passes is presented in 1 Thess. 4:13, 14--"But I would not have you to be ignorant, brethren, concerning them which are asleep, that ye sorrow not, even as others which have no hope. For if we believe that Jesus died and rose again, even so them also which sleep in Jesus will God bring with him." Jesus "died"--He tasted the awfulness of death; the believer in Him "falls asleep." Cf. John 11:11--"Our friend Lazarus sleepeth." We have no ground in these words for the modern doctrine of soul-sleeping. Christ did not mean to say that the soul is unconscious between the time of death and the resurrection. For, when the disciples did not understand His _figurative_ language, He told them _plainly,_ "Lazarus is dead" (11:11-15). What Jesus meant was that death is something like that which takes place when we go to sleep. What takes place when we go to sleep? Surely the current of life does not cease, but flows on, and when we awake we feel better and stronger than before. There is a shutting out of all the scenes of the world and time. Just so it is in the case of the believer's death. Three ideas are contained in the word "sleep": continued existence,--for the mind is active even though the body is still; repose--we lose our hold on and forget the things of the world; wakening--we always think of sleep as followed by awakening. The word "see" in John 8:51 means that the believer shall not gaze at death protractedly, steadily, exhaustively. Death is not the objective of his gaze. The believer's outlook is that of life not death. The death of the body is to be reckoned no more as death than the life of the body is life (1 Tim. 5:6). The believer's back is turned upon death; he faces and gazes upon life. The temporary separation of the soul and body does not even interrupt, much less impair, the eternal life given by Jesus. II. THE BELIEVER GOES TO BE WITH CHRIST. 2 Cor. 5:6, R. V.--"Being therefore always of good courage, and knowing that, whilst we are at home in the body, we are absent from the Lord." Phil. 1:23, R. V.--"But I am in a strait betwixt the two, having the desire to depart and be with Christ; for it is very far better." The experience (death-sleep) through which the believer passes ushers him at once into the presence of Christ. It takes him instantly to be "at home" with the Lord. Surely there can be no hint of unconsciousness or the sleeping of the soul in these words. It would seem from Paul's words in 2 Corinthians 5:1-5 that some kind of spiritual body is given to the believer during the period of his waiting for the resurrection body. What Paul longs for is not to be in a bodiless state, but to put on another body which shall not be subject to death. "At home with the Lord"--that is what "death" (?) means to the believer. III. THE BODY OF THE BELIEVER IS RAISED FROM THE DEAD. See under the Doctrine of the Resurrection for the full discussion of the believer's resurrection body, its characteristics, etc. IV. THE BELIEVER SHALL RECEIVE HIS FINAL REWARD IN THE FUTURE. 1 Matt. 25:20-23--"And so he that had received five talents came and brought other five talents, saying, Lord, thou deliveredst unto me five talents: behold, I have gained beside them five talents more. His lord said unto him, Well done, thou good and faithful servant: thou hast been faithful over a few things, I will make thee ruler over many things: enter thou into the joy of thy lord. He also that had received two talents came and said, Lord, thou deliveredst unto me two talents: behold, I have gained two other talents beside them. His lord said unto him, Well done, good and faithful servant: thou hast been faithful over a few things, I will make thee ruler over many things: enter thou into the joy of thy lord." Luke 19:12-19.--"He said therefore, A certain nobleman went into a far country to receive for himself a kingdom, and to return. And he called his ten servants, and delivered them ten pounds, and said unto them, Occupy till I come. But his citizens hated him, and sent a message after him, saying, We will not have this man to reign over us. And it came to pass, that when he was returned, having received the kingdom, then he commanded these servants to be called unto him, to whom he had given the money, that he might know how much every man had gained by trading. Then came the first, saying, Lord, thy pound hath gained ten pounds. And he said unto him, Well, thou good servant: because thou hast been faithful in a very little, have thou authority over ten cities. And the second came saying, Lord, thy pound hath gained five pounds. And he said likewise to him, Be thou also over five cities." Matthew 24 exhorts us to watch and wait for Christ's coming; chapter 25 shows us how we may obey this exhortation. Chapter 25 illustrates to us, in the parable of the Virgins (vv. 1-13) the necessity of caring for the inward spiritual life; while the parable of the Talents (vv. 14-30), emphasizes the necessity of activity for Christ while awaiting His return. While both parables deal with the matter of the rewarding of the saints, they nevertheless present the subject from different viewpoints. The parable of the Pounds was delivered before the entry into Jerusalem; that of the Talents, three days after; the Pounds, to the multitudes; the Talents, to the disciples. The Pounds was given because the people thought that the kingdom would immediately appear, hence the idea of a long journey. In the Pounds there is opposition to Christ; in the Talents, none. In the Talents unequal sums are multiplied in the same proportion; in the Pounds, equal sums in differed proportions. The parable of the Pounds was uttered to repress impatience; that of the Talents, to stimulate activity until Christ should return. The talents are distributed not capriciously but according to each man's ability to handle them. He who had five talents was able to use five, and was therefore held responsible for the use of this number; so with the two, and the one. The question is not so much "How many talents have I received," but "To what use am I putting them?" The rewards for faithfulness are the same in each case--"Be thou ruler over many cities." In the parable of the Pounds it is different. All start out with the same number of pounds. As men differ in their use of them, in their fidelity, zeal and labor, so they differ in spiritual gains and rewards (ten cities, five cities). The reward of the believer will be in proportion to the faithfulness of his service for God with the use of the talents with which God has endowed him. The rewards therefore will differ according to the faithfulness or unfaithfulness of our service and life. Faith in Jesus Christ saves the believer, but his position in the future life together with the measure of his reward will depend upon his faithfulness in the use of the gifts with which he has been endowed by God. Thus it comes to pass that a man may be saved "yet so as by fire," i.e., saved because of his faith in Christ, but minus his reward. See 1 Cor. 3:10-15--"In discharge of the task which God graciously entrusted to me, I--like a competent master-builder--have laid a foundation, and others are building upon it. But let every one be careful how and what he builds. For no one can lay any other foundation in addition to that which is already laid, namely, Jesus Christ. And whether the building which anyone is erecting on that foundation be of gold or silver or costly stones, of timber or hay or straw--the true character of each individual's work will become manifest. For the day of Christ will disclose it, because that day is soon to come upon us clothed in fire, and as for the quality of every one's work--the fire is the thing which will test it. If any one's work--the building which he has erected--stands the test, he will be rewarded. If any one's work is burned up, he will suffer the loss of it; yet he will himself be rescued, but only, as it were, by passing through the fire." (Translation from _Weymouth's New Testament._) While this passage has its primary reference, probably, to Christian teachers and preachers, and touches the matter of doctrines that are taught, it nevertheless has a fitting and true application to the life and work of every believer. V. THE NATURE OF THE BELIEVER'S REWARD. 1. HE SHALL RECEIVE A CROWN. The Scriptures speak of a number of crowns: The Crown of _Life_ (James 1:12; Rev. 2:10, compare context which speaks of death); of _Glory_ (1 Pet. 5:4; cf. John 17:22; Heb. 2:9); of _Righteousness_ (2 Tim. 4:8), the full realization of the imputed and inwrought righteousness of Christ; of _Rejoicing_ (1 Thess. 2:19), at the sight of converts that have been won by one's ministry for Christ; of _Gold_ (Rev. 4:4); _Incorruptible_ (1 Cor. 9:25), as compared with the perishable crowns of the Greek games; _Thy_ crown (Rev. 3:11), that which is laid up for you, and which should not be lost by unfaithfulness; the summing up of all the previous expressions--all are characteristic of "thy" crown. 2. THE SEVEN "OVERCOMES" IN REVELATION (cc. 2, 3.). a) 2:7--"Eat of the Tree of Life, Which is in the Midst of the Paradise of God." The tree of life, which has been practically unmentioned since Genesis 3, where it was lost through sin, is here restored in accordance with the restitution of all things in Christ. This figure expresses participation in life eternal--the believer shall die no more. b) 2:11--"Shall Not be Hurt of the Second Death." He who is born but once--"of the flesh"--dies twice: physically, and eternally. He (the believer) who is born twice--"of the flesh" and "of the spirit"--dies but once; that is, he passes through only that physical dissolution of soul and body which is called death. The "second death" means, to say the least, utter exclusion from the presence of God. To say that the believer shall not be hurt of the second death is equivalent to saying that he shall eternally behold the face of the Father which is in heaven. c) 2:17--He shall Receive a "Stone with a New Name Written" Thereon; To the Believer also will be Given to Eat of the "Hidden Manna." This figure may mean that to the believer is given the white stone of acquittal. In courts of justice in those days a black stone was given to the condemned. Reference may here be made to the white stone (diamond?) which was not among the stones in the high priest's ephod, and thought by some to be the Urim and Thummim. The partaking of the hidden manna may refer to the fact that they who had resisted the eating of meat offered in sacrifice to idols would, as a reward, be allowed to feast on the bread of God, the divine food. The new name mentioned may stand for a new nature and character which the believer will possess in that new country. d) 2:26, 27--Authority Over the Nations. There is doubtless a reference here to the reign of the saints with the Lord Jesus Christ on the millenial earth. Those that have suffered with Him shall also reign with Him. e) 3:4, 5--He Shall Be "Arrayed in White Garments," and His Name Shall in No Wise be Blotted Out of the Book of Life. "White garments" undoubtedly refers to the righteousness of the saints. In the Old Testament days to be blotted out of the book of life meant to forfeit the privileges of the Theocracy--to be shut out forever from God's favor. Here the certainty of the believer's eternal security is assured. Christ will rejoice over him and gladly confess that He knows him as one who belonged to Him and served and confessed Him on the earth. f) 3:12--The Believer Will Be a Pillar in the Temple of God; He Shall Go Out No More; God Will Write Upon Him His Own New Name. Philadelphia, the place in which was situated the church to whom these words were written, was subject to earthquakes, and quite frequently the massive pillars of the temple were shattered. It shall not be so with the believer--he shall never be moved. He will go in and out no more--no possibility of falling then. He will have the name of God written upon him--no danger of anyone else making claim to him. Then the believer's period of probation will have passed away; he shall have a permanent and eternal place in the kingdom of the Father. g) 3:21, R. V.--"I Will Give to Him to Sit Down With Me in My Throne." Not "on" or "upon" but "in" my throne. Christ will exalt us with Himself. James and John wanted to sit by Christ's side in the coming kingdom. Here is something infinitely better--to sit with Him in His throne. VI. THE BELIEVER WILL ENTER INTO A NEW CONDITION AND ABODE OF LIFE. 1. A NEW SPHERE OF LIFE FOR THE SAINTS. New Heavens and a new Earth: Paradise regained; new spiritual environment; new physical conditions. Not surrounded by the temptations and defects of this mortal life. "No more sea"--to the Jew a symbol of unmixed peril, trouble, and restlessness. 2. A NEW HOME FOR THE SAINTS. Rev. 21-22:5--A picture of the Holy City, the New Jerusalem, which is to be the final and eternal abode of the people of God. Within the New Heavens and on the New Earth is the Holy City. Note some characteristics of the Holy City: Its _Name:_ New Jerusalem--what music to the ear of the Jew, who for so long had been without a city of his own! Its _Walls_ (21:17): high, secure, safe against all assaults. Its _Gates_ (21:15, 21): guarded by angels; names on gates; only saints enter. Its _Foundations_ (v.14): the Apostles of the Lamb; lustrous (18). Its _Citizens:_ of the nations that are saved (citizens' characteristics 21:6, 7; 22:14, R. V.; contrast with 21:8, 27). Its _Magnitude:_ 4800 stadia (the earthly Jerusalem being but 33 stadia). Its _Glory_ (11-23): what costliness! 3. NEW CONDITIONS OF LIFE FOR THE REDEEMED. God's home is there (21:3); thus the believer has uninterrupted communion with God. Some things that used to be have all passed away: death, mourning, curse, tears, sorrow, night--all have gone. New created things appear: the river of life, the tree of life, new service, new relationships, new light (22:4). "AND AFTER THESE THINGS I HEARD A GREAT VOICE OF MUCH PEOPLE IN HEAVEN, SAYING, ALLELUIA; SALVATION, AND GLORY, AND HONOUR, AND POWER, UNTO THE LORD OUR GOD: "AND THE FOUR AND TWENTY ELDERS AND THE FOUR BEASTS FELL DOWN AND WORSHIPPED GOD THAT SAT ON THE THRONE, SAYING, AMEN; ALLELUIA. "AND A VOICE CAME OUT OF THE THRONE, SAYING, PRAISE OUR GOD, ALL YE HIS SERVANTS, AND YE THAT FEAR HIM, BOTH SMALL AND GREAT. "AND I HEARD AS IT WERE THE VOICE OF A GREAT MULTITUDE, AND AS THE VOICE OF MANY WATERS, AND AS THE VOICE OF MIGHTY THUNDERINGS, SAYING, ALLELUIA: FOR THE LORD GOD OMNIPOTENT REIGNETH. "LET US BE GLAD AND REJOICE, AND GIVE HONOUR TO HIM: FOR THE MARRIAGE OF THE LAMB IS COME, AND HIS WIFE HATH MADE HERSELF READY. "AND TO HER WAS GRANTED THAT SHE SHOULD BE ARRAYED IN FINE LINEN, CLEAN AND WHITE: FOR THE FINE LINEN IS THE RIGHTEOUSNESS OF SAINTS." 
8191	----	OUR MASTER Thoughts for Salvationists about Their Lord BY General Bramwell Booth. "_As man He suffered--as God He taught_." TO MY WIFE Contents. Preface I. The Man for the Century II. The Birth of Jesus "_For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord_." (Luke ii. 11.) "_The firstborn among many brethren_." (Rom. viii. 29.) III. Contrasts at Bethlehem IV. Christ Come Again "_And she brought forth her firstborn Son, and wrapped Him in swaddling clothes, and laid Him in a manger_." (Luke ii. 7.) "_Christ formed in you_." (Gal. iv. 19.) V. The Secret of His Rule "_For we have not an high priest which cannot be touched with the feeling of our infirmities; but was in all points tempted like as we are, yet without sin_." (Heb. iv. 15.) VI. A Neglected Saviour "_And He came and found them asleep again: for their eyes were heavy_." (Matt. xxvi. 43.) VII. Windows in Calvary "_And they crucified Him, and parted His garments, casting lots: that it might be fulfilled which was spoken by the prophet. They parted My garments among them, and upon My vesture did they cast lots. And sitting down they watched Him there_." (Matt. xxvii. 35, 36.) VIII. The Burial of Jesus "_And after this Joseph of Arimathea, being a disciple of Jesus, but secretly for fear of the Jews, besought Pilate that he might take away the body of Jesus: and Pilate gave him leave. He came therefore, and, took the body of Jesus_." (John xix. 38. And following verses.) IX. Conforming to Christ's Death "_That I may know Him . . . being made conformable unto His death_." (Phil. iii. 10.) X. The Resurrection and Sin "_Concerning His Son Jesus Christ our Lord, which was . . . declared to be the Son of God with power, according to the spirit of holiness, by the resurrection from the dead_." (Rom. i. 3, 4.) XI. "Salvation Is of the Lord" "_Salvation is of the Lord_." (Jonah ii. 9.) "_Work out your own salvation_." (Phil ii. 12.) XII. Self-Denial "_If any man will come after Me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross, and follow Me_." (Matt. xvi. 24.) XIII. In Unexpected Places "_And . . . while they communed together and reasoned, Jesus Himself drew near, and went with them. But their eyes were holden that they should not know Him_." (Luke xxiv. 15, 16.) XIV. Ever the Same "_Blessed be the name of God for ever and ever: for wisdom and might are His: and He changeth the times and the seasons_." (Dan. ii. 20, 21.) "_I am the Lord, I change not_." (Mal. iii. 6.) Preface The present volume contains some of the papers bearing on the Birth and Death and Work of our Lord Jesus Christ which I have contributed from time to time to Salvation Army periodicals. I hope that in this form they may continue the service of souls which I am assured they began to render when, one by one, they were first published. Much in them has, I do not doubt, come to me directly or indirectly by inspiration or suggestion of other writers and speakers, and I desire therefore to acknowledge my indebtedness to the living, both inside and outside our borders, as well as to the holy dead. Bramwell Booth. Barnet, _May_, 1908. I. The Man for the Century I. _The Need_. The new Century has its special need. The need of the twentieth century will be men. In every department of the world's life or labour, that is the great want. In religion, in politics, in science, in commerce, in philanthropy, in government, all other necessities are unimportant by comparison with this one. Given men of a certain type, and the religious life of the world will thrive and throb with the love and will of God, and overcome all opposition. Given men of the right stamp, and politics will become another word for benevolence. Provided true men are available, science will take her place as the handmaid of revelation. If only men of power and principle are at hand, commerce will prosper as she has never yet prospered, rooted in the great law which Christ laid down for her: "Do unto others as ye would that they should do unto you." If the men are found to guide it, philanthropy will become a golden ladder of opportunity by which all in misfortune and misery may climb, not only to sufficiency and happiness here, but to purity and plenty for ever. And, given the men of heart, head, and hand for the task, the government of the kingdoms of this world will yet become a fulfilment of the great prayer of Jesus: "Thy will be done on earth, as it is done in Heaven." But all, or nearly all, depends on the men. II. _The Man_. The new Century will demand men. But if men, then certainly a _man_. Human nature has, after all, more influence over human nature than anything else. Abstract laws are of little moment to us until we see them in actual operation. The law of gravitation is but a matter of intelligent wonder while we view its influence in the movements of revolving planets or falling stars; but when we see a baby fall terror-stricken from its little cradle to the floor, "the attraction of large bodies for small ones" takes on a new and heart-felt meaning. The beauty of devotion to truth in the face of opposition hardly stirs an emotion in many of us, as we regard it from the safe distance of our own self-satisfied liberty; but when we see the lonely martyr walk with head erect through the raging mob, and kiss the stake to which he is soon to be bound; when we watch him burn until the kindly powder explodes about his neck, and sends him to exchange his shirt of flame for the robe he has washed in the Blood of the Lamb; then, the beauty, the sincerity, the greatness, the God-likeness of sacrifice, especially of sacrifice for the truth, comes home to us, and captures even the coldest hearts and dullest minds. The revelation of Jesus in the flesh was a recognition of this principle. The purpose of His life and death was to manifest God in the flesh, that He might attract man to God. He took human nature that human nature might see the best of which it was capable. He became a man that men might know to what heights of power a man might rise. He became a man that men might know to what lengths and breadths of love and wisdom a man might attain. He became a man that men might know to what depths of love and service a man might reach. The men we need, then, for the twentieth century will find the pattern Man ready to their hand. Be the demands of the coming years what they may, God is able to raise up men to meet them, men after His own likeness--men of right, men of light, men of might--men who will follow Him in the desperate fight with the hydra-headed monsters of evil of every kind, and who will, by His Name, deliver the souls of men from the slavery of sin and the Hell to which it leads. III. _Standards_. The new Century will demand high standards, both of character and conduct. Explain it how we may, the fact is evident that religion has greatly disappointed the world. The wretched distortion of Christ's teaching which appears in the lives and business of tens of thousands of professed Christians, the namby-pambyism of the mass of Christian teachers towards the evil of sin, and the unholy union, in nearly all the practical proceedings of life, between the world and the bulk of the Christian churches, no doubt largely account for this, so far as Christianity is concerned. Mohammedanism is in a still worse plight, for though, alas! it increases even faster than Christianity, it is helpless at the heart. The mass of its devotees know that between its highest teaching and its best practice there is a great gulf, and they are slowly beginning to look elsewhere for rules by which to guide their lives. And what is true of Mohammedanism is true also of Buddhism--the great religion of the East. Its teachers have largely ceased to be faithful to their own faith; and, as a consequence, that faith is a declining power. Beautiful as much of its teaching undoubtedly is, millions who are nominally Buddhist are estranged by its failures; and are, with increasing unrest, looking this way and that for help in the battle with evil, and for hope amidst the bitter consciousness of sin. Such is a cursory view of the attitude of the opening century towards the great faiths of the world. Perhaps one word more than another sums it all up--especially as regards Christianity--and that word is NEGLECT--cold, stony neglect! And yet men are still demanding standards of life and conduct. The open materialist, the timid agnostic, no less than the avowedly selfish, the vicious and the vile, are asking, with a hundred tongues and in a thousand ways, "Who will show us any good?" The universal conscience, unbribed, unstifled as on the fateful day in Eden--conscience, the only thing in man left standing erect when all else fell--still cries out, "YOU OUGHT!" still rebels at evil, still compels the human heart to cry for rules of right and wrong, and still urges man to the one, and withholds him from the other. And it is--for one reason--because Jesus can provide these high standards for men, that I say He is _The Man for the Century_. The laws He has laid down in the Gospels, and the example He furnished of obedience to those laws in the actual stress and turmoil of a human life, afford a standard capable of universal application. The ruler, contending with unruly men; the workman, fighting for consideration from a greedy employer; the outcast, struggling like an Ishmaelite with Society for a crust of bread; the dark-skinned, sad-eyed mother, sending forth her only babe to perish in the waters of the sacred river of India, thus "giving the fruit of her body for the sin of her soul"; the proud and selfish noble, abounding in all he desires except the one thing needful; the great multitude of the sorrowful, which no man can number, who refuse to be comforted; the dying, whose death will be an unwilling leap in the dark--all these, yea, and all others, may find in the law of Christ that which will harmonise every conflicting interest, which will solve the problems of human life, which will build up a holy character, which will gather up and sanctify everything that is good in every faith and in every man, and will unite all who will obey it in the one great brotherhood of the one fold and the one Shepherd. IV. _Liberty_. The new Century will call for freedom in every walk of human life. That bright dream of the ages--Liberty--how far ahead of us she still lies! What a bondage life is to multitudes! What a vast host of the human race, even of this generation, will die in slavery--actual physical bondage! Slaves in Africa, in China, in Eastern Europe, in the far isles of the sea and dark places of the earth, cry to us, and perish while they cry. What a host, still larger, are in the bondage of unequal laws! Little children, stricken, cursed, and damned, and there is none to deliver. Young men and maidens bound by hateful customs, ruined by wicked associations, torn by force of law from all that is best in life, and taught all that is worst. Nine men out of ten in one of the great European armies are said to be debauched morally and physically by their military service; and all the men in the nation are bound by law to serve. What a host--larger, again, than both the others--of every generation of men are bound by custom in the service of cruelty. It is supposed that every year a million little children die from neglect, wilful exposure, or other form of cruelty. Think of the bondage of those who kill them! Look at the cruelty to women, the cruelty of war, the cruelty to criminals, the cruelty to the animal creation. What a mighty force the slavery of cruel custom still remains! All that is best in man is crying out for emancipation from this bondage, and I know of no deliverance so sure, so complete, so abiding as that which comes by the teaching and spirit of Jesus. But, even if freedom from all these hateful bonds could come, and could be complete, without Him, there still remains a serfdom more degrading, a bondage more inexorable than any of these, for men are everywhere the bond-slaves of sin. Look out upon the world--upon your own part of it, even upon your own family or household--and see how evil holds men by one chain or another, and grips them body and soul. This one by doubt, this by passion, this by envy, this by lust, this by pride, this by strife, this by fear, this one by love of gold, this one by love of the world, and this one by hatred of God! _Is it not so_? What men want, then, is PERSONAL, INDIVIDUAL LIBERTY FROM SIN. Given that, and a slave may be free. Given that, and the child in the nursery of iniquity may be free. Given that, and the young man or maiden held in the charnel-house of lust may be free. Given that, and the victim of all that is most cruel and most brutal in life may still be free. Oh! blessed be God, he whom the Son makes free is free indeed! This, and this alone, is the liberty for the new Century--the Gospel liberty from sin for the individual soul and spirit, without respect of time or circumstance; and here alone is He who can bestow it--Jesus, the Lion of the Tribe of Judah. This, I say, is _The Man for the new Century_. V. _Knowledge_. The new Century will be marked by a universal demand for knowledge. One of the most remarkable features of the present time is the extraordinary thirst for knowledge in every quarter of the world. It is not confined to this continent or that. It is not peculiar to any special class or age. It is universal. One aspect of it, and a very significant one, is the desire for knowledge about life and its origin, about the beginning of things, about the earth and its creation, about the work which we say God did, which He alone could do. Oh, how men search and explore! How they read and think! How they talk and listen! Where one book was read a generation ago, a hundred, I should think, are read now; and for one newspaper then read, there are now, probably, a thousand. Every man is an inquiry agent, seeking news, information, or instruction; seeking to know what will make life longer for him and his; and, above all, what can make it happier. And here, again, I say that _Jesus is The Man for the new Century_. He has knowledge to give which none other can provide. I do not doubt that universities, and schools, and governments, and a great press, can, and will, do much to impart knowledge of all sorts to the world. But when it comes to knowledge that can serve the great end for which the very power to acquire knowledge was created--namely, _the true happiness of man_--then, I say, that JESUS is the source of that knowledge; that without Him it cannot be found or imparted; and that with Him it comes in its liberating and enlightening glory. Oh, be sure _you have that_! No amount of learning will stand you in its stead. No matter how you may have stored your mind with the riches of the past, or tutored it to grapple with the mysteries of the present, _unless you know Him, it will all amount to nothing_. But if you know Him who is life, that is life eternal. Knowledge without God is like a man learned in all the great mysteries of light and heat who has never seen the sun. He may understand perfectly the laws which govern them, the results which follow them, the secrets which control their action on each other--all that is possible, and yet he will be _in the dark_. So, too, knowledge, learning, human education and wisdom are all possible to man; he may even excel in them so as to be a wonder to his fellows by reason of his vast stores of knowledge, and yet know nothing of that light within the mind by which he apprehends them. Nay, more! he may even be a marvellous adept in the theory of religion, and yet, alas! alas! may never have seen its SUN--may still be in the blackness of gross darkness, because he knows not Jesus, the Light of the world, whom to know is life eternal. VI. _Government_. The new Century will demand governors. Every thoughtful person who considers the subject must be struck by the modern tendency towards personal government all over the world. Whatever may be the form of national government prescribed by the various constitutions, it tends, when carried into practice, to give power and authority to individual rulers. Whether in monarchies like England, where Parliament is really the ruling power; or in republics like France and the United States, where what are called democratic institutions are seen in their maturity; or in empires like Germany and Austria, the same leading facts appear. Power goes into the hands of one or two who, whether as ministers, or presidents, or monarchs, are the real rulers of the nation. Perfect laws, liberal institutions, patriotic sentiments, though they may elevate, can never rule a people. A crowd of legislators, no matter how devoted to a nation, can never permanently control, though they may influence it. Out of the crowd will come forth one or two; generally one commanding personality, strong enough to stand alone, though wise enough not to attempt it. In him will be focussed the ideas and ambitions of the nation, to him the people's hearts will go out, and from him they will take the word of command as their virtual ruler. It has ever been so. It is so to-day. It will always be so. And as with nations so with individuals. _Every man must have a king_. Call him what we will, recognise him or not, every man is the subject of some ruler. And this will, if possible, be more manifest in the future than in the past. Men will not be satisfied to serve ideas, to live for the passing ambitions of their day, they will cry out for a king. Am I wrong when I say that JESUS IS THE COMING KING? In Him are assembled in the highest perfection all the great qualities which go to make the KING OF MEN. And so the new Century will need Him, must have Him; nay, it cannot prosper without Him, the Divine Man, for He is the rightful Sovereign of every human soul. VII. _A New Force_. The new Century will demand great moral forces as well as high ideals. Nothing is more evident than that the forms and ceremonies of religion are rapidly losing--even in nominally Christian countries--all real influence over the lives of men. The form of godliness without the power is not only the greatest of all shams, but it is the most easily detected. Hence it is that a large part of mankind is either disgusted to hostility or utterly estranged from real religion by theories and ceremonials which, though they may continue to exist in shadow, have lost their life and soul. For example, the old lie, that money paid to a Church can buy "indulgences" which will release men in the next world from the penalty of sin committed in this, and the miserable theory which made God the direct author of eternal damnation to those who are lost, are among the theories which, though they are still taught and professed here and there, have long ago ceased to have real influence over men's hearts or actions. In the same way, there are multitudes who still conform to the outward ceremony of Confirmation, upon whose salvation from sin or separation from the world that ceremony has absolutely no influence whatever, although, for custom's sake, they submit to it. But a greater danger than this lies in the fact that _it is possible to hold and believe the truth, and yet to be totally ignorant of its power_. Sound doctrine will of itself never save a soul. A man may believe every word of the faith of a Churchman or a Salvationist, and yet be as ignorant of any real experience of religion as an infidel or an idolater. And it is this merely intellectual or sentimental holding of the truth about God and Christ, about Holiness and Heaven, which makes the ungodly mass look upon Christianity as nothing more than an opinion or a trade; a something with which they have no concern. The new Century will demand something more than this. Men will require something beyond creeds, be they ever so correct; and traditions, be they ever so venerable; and sacraments, be they ever so sacred. They will ask for an endowment of power to grapple with what they feel to be base in human nature, and to master what they know is selfish and sinful in their own hearts. And right here _The Man for the Century_ comes forward. The doctrine of Jesus is the spirit of a new life. It is a transforming power. A man may believe that the American Republic is the purest and noblest form of government on the earth, and may give himself up to live, and fight, and die for it, and yet be the same man in every respect as he was before; but if he believes with his heart that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and gives himself up to live, and fight, and die for Him, he will become a new man, he will be a new creature. The acceptance of the truth, and acting upon it, in the one case, will make a great change in his manner of life--his conduct; the acceptance of the truth, and acting upon it, in the other, will make a great change in the man _himself_--in his tastes and motives, in his very nature. Again, I say, this is what we shall need for the new Century. Not good laws only, but the power to observe them. Not beautiful and lofty ideals only, but the power to translate them into the daily practice of common lives. Not merely the glorious examples of a pure faith, but the actual force which enables men to live by that faith amid the littleness, the depression, the contamination, and the conflict of an evil world. VIII. _Atonement_. The new Century will demand an atonement for sin. The consciousness of sin is the most enduring fact of human experience. From generation to generation, from age to age, amidst the ceaseless changes which time brings to everything else, this one great fact remains, persists--_the condemning consciousness of sin_. It appears with men in the cradle, and goes with them to the tomb; without regard to race, or language, or creed it is ever with us. It was this robbed Eden of its joys; it is this makes life a round of labour and sorrow; it is this gives death its terrors; it is this makes the place of torment which men call Hell--for the unceasing consciousness of sin will be "the worm that never dies." All attempts to explain it away, to modify its miseries, to extract its sting--whether they have come from the party of unbelief, or the party of education, or the party of amusement, have failed--and failed utterly. No matter what men say or do to get rid of it, there it is--staring them in the face! Whether they look amongst the most highly civilized peoples or amongst the lowest savages; whether they look into the past history of mankind or into its present condition, there is the _stupendous fact of sin_, and there is the incontrovertible fact that everywhere _men are conscious of it_. It is going to be so in this twentieth century. If God, in His mercy, allows the families of men to continue during another hundred years, this great fact will still stand out in the forefront of life. Sin will still be the skeleton at every feast, the horrid ghost haunting every home and every heart, the spectre, clothed with reproaches, ever ready to plunge his dripping sword into every breast. Sin. The world's sin. The sin of this one generation. The sin of one city. The sin of one family. The sin of one man--_my sin_! Ah! depend upon it, the twentieth century will cry aloud, "_What shall be done with our sin_?" Yet, thanks be to God! there is an atonement. The MAN of whom I write has made a propitiation for our sins, and not for ours only, but for the sins of the whole world. He stands forth the ONLY SAVIOUR. None other has ever dared even to offer to the sin-stricken hearts of men relief from the _guilt_ of sin. _But He does_. He can cleanse, He can pardon, He can purify, He can save, because _He has redeemed_. "Thou wast slain, and hast redeemed us unto God by Thy blood, out of every kindred, and tongue, and people, and nation." Will you come and join in our great world-mission of making His atonement known? Will you turn your back on the littleness, and selfishness, and cowardice of the past, and arise, in the strength of the God-Man, to publish to all you can reach, by tongue, and pen, and example, that there is a sacrifice for men's sins--for the worst, for the most wretched, for the most tortured? As you set your face with high resolve towards the unknown years, take your stand with THE MAN FOR ALL THE AGES; and let this be your message, your confidence, your hope for all men-"_Behold the Lamb of God, which taketh away the sin of the world_!" II. The Birth of Jesus. "_For unto you is born . . . a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord._" --Luke ii. 11. "_The firstborn among many brethren_."--Romans viii. 29. The birth of Jesus is one of the great signs of His condescension; and, no matter how we view it, is perhaps scarcely less wonderful than His death. If the one manifests His glorious divinity, then the other exalts His wonderful humanity. If Calvary and the Resurrection reveal His power, does not Bethlehem make manifest His love? And did not both the former come out of the latter? The infinite glory which belongs to the cross and the tomb had its rise in the gloom of the stable. If the Babe had not been laid in the manger, then the Man would not have been nailed to the tree, and the Lamb that was slain would not have taken His place on the Everlasting Throne. I claim, therefore, a little more attention to the events which relate to the Saviour's birth, and to the lessons which may be derived from them; and though, perhaps, something of what I have to say will have already occurred to some who will read this paper, I will venture to suggest one or two thoughts as they have been presented to my own mind. Their very simplicity has made them of service to me. I. _He Came_. The nature of the whole work of our redemption is made manifest by the one fact--_He really came_. His everlasting love, His infinite compassion, His all-embracing purpose were from eternity; but we only got to know of it all because _He came_. If He had contented Himself with sending messages or highly-placed messengers, or even with making occasional and wonderful excursions of Divine revelation, man would, no doubt, have been greatly attracted, and perhaps even helped somewhat in his tremendous conflict with evil; yet he might never have been subdued in will, he might never have been touched and won back to God; he might never have been brought down from his pride to cry out, "My Lord and my God." No, it was _His coming to us_ that wrought conviction of sin, and then conviction of the truth in our hearts. He came Himself. There is something very wonderful in this principle of _contact_ as illustrated by the life of Jesus. Just as to save the human race He felt it necessary to come into it, and clothe Himself with its nature and conform Himself to its natural laws, so all the way through His earthly journey He was constantly seeking to _come into touch_ with the people He desired to bless. He touched the sick, He fed the hungry, He placed His fingers on the blind eyes, and put them upon the ears of the deaf, and touched with them the tongue of the dumb. He took the ruler's dead daughter "by the hand, and the maid arose." He lifted the little children up into His arms, and blessed them; He stretched forth His hand to sinking Peter; He stood close by the foul-smelling body of the dead Lazarus; He took the bread, and with His own hands brake it, and gave it to His disciples at that last farewell meal. He even took poor Thomas's trembling hand, and guided it to the prints in His hands and the wounds in His side. Yes, indeed, it is written large, in every part of His life, that He really came, and that He came very near to lost and suffering men. Is there not a lesson here for us, my comrade? As He is in the world, so are we. This principle in His life was not by accident or by chance, it was an essential qualification of His nature for the work entrusted to Him. It is a necessary qualification for those who are called to carry on that work. Is this, then, the impression you are able to give to those among whom you labour: that you have come to them in very truth; that in mind and soul, in hand and heart, you are seeking to come into the closest contact of love and sympathy with them, especially with those who most need you? Oh, aim at this! Do not for your own sake, as well as for your Master's, move about amid your own people, or among those to whom God and The Army have given you entrance, as one who has little in common with them, who does not know them, who does not feel with them. Go into their houses, put your hand sometimes to their burdens, take a share in their toils, nurse their sick, weep with them that weep, and rejoice with them that rejoice. Make them feel that it is your own religion, rather than The Army system, that has made you come to them. Let them see by your sympathy and kindness that love is the over-mastering influence in your life, the influence that has brought you to them. Compel them to turn to you as a warm-hearted unselfish example of the truths you preach. Let them feel that you are indeed come from God to take them by the hand, as far as may be, and lead them through this Vale of Tears to the City of Light and Rest. II. _His Humble Origin_. Everything associated with the advent of Jesus seems to have been specially ordered to mark His humiliation. It is true that Mary, His mother, was of the lineage of King David, but her relationship with the royal house was a very distant one, and the family had fallen upon sad times. The Romans were masters in the land, and a stranger sat upon the throne of Israel. Mary, therefore, was but a poor village maiden; Joseph, her betrothed husband, was a carpenter--an ordinary working man. Bethlehem, the place of the Saviour's birth, was a tiny straggling village, which, though not the least, was certainly one of the least of the villages of Judea. And Nazareth, where He grew from infancy to childhood, and from youth to manhood, was another little hamlet among the hilly country to the north of Jerusalem, and was held in low repute by the people of those days. The occupation chosen for the early life of Jesus was a humble one. He learned the trade of a joiner, and worked with Joseph at the carpenter's bench. His associates and friends were of the village community, and He "whose Name is above every name" passed to and fro and in and out among the cottage homes of the poor--as one of themselves. Probably none but His mother had, in these early years, any true idea of the mysterious promise which had been given concerning Him. What a contrast it all presents to the years of stress and storm and of victory which were to follow, and to the supreme influence His teaching and example were to exert in the world! Is there not something here for us? Do not the lowly origin and simple country habits and humble tastes of some of our comrades make them hesitate on the threshold of great efforts, when they ought to leap forward in the strength of their God? Let them remember their Master, and take courage. Let them call to mind the unfashionable, uneducated, uncultivated surroundings of Nazareth. Let them bear in mind the carpenter's shed, the rough country work, the bare equipment of the village home, the humble service of the family life. Let them, above all, remember the plain and gentle mother, and the meek and lowly One Himself, and in this remembrance let them go forward. To be of lowly origin, or of a mean occupation; to come out of poverty and want; to be looked down upon by the rich or the powerful ones of earth; to be treated as of no consequence by governments and rulers, and yet to go on doing and daring, suffering and conquering for God and right; what is all this but the fulfilment of Paul's words, "And base things of the world, and things which are despised, hath God chosen, yea, and things which are not, to bring to nought things that are: that no flesh should glory in His presence"? Nay, what is it all but to tread in the very steps that the Master trod? III. _His High Nature_. But if, on the human side, our Redeemer's origin and circumstances were of the humblest, and we are thus enabled to see His humanity, as it were face to face, there was united with it the Divine nature; so that as our _Doctrines_ say, "He is truly and properly God, and He is truly and properly man." Many mysteries meet by the side of that manger, some of them to remain mysteries, so far as human understanding can grapple with things, till God Himself reveals them to our stronger vision in the world to come. But, blessed be God, some, things that we cannot compass with our mental powers are very grateful to our hearts. How Thou canst love me as I am, Yet be the God Thou art, Is darkness to my intellect, But sunshine to my heart. And we to whom the Living Christ has spoken the word of life and liberty, although we may not now fully comprehend this great wonder of all wonders--God manifest in the flesh--and may not be able effectively to make it plain to others, we cannot for ourselves doubt its central truth--_that_ GOD _dwelt with man_. Here was, indeed, a perfect union of two spirits. There was the suffering and obedient spirit of the true _man_; there was the unchanging and Holy Spirit of the true God. It was a union--it was a unity. It was God in man--it was man in God. A being of infinite might and perfect moral beauty, sent forth from the bosom of the Father; and yet a being of lowly and sensitive tenderness, having roots in our poor human nature, tempted in all points like as we are, and touched with the feeling of all our infirmities. Is it not to something of the same kind we are called? Is not every true Salvation Army Officer designed by God to be also (not, of course, in the same degree, but still up to the measure of his own capacity and of his Master's will) a dual, or two-fold creature, with associations and roots and attachments in all that is human, and yet with the divine life, the divine spirit, divine love, divine zeal, divine power, divine fire united with him and dwelling in him? The perfect man would have been a great marvel, a great teacher, a great prophet; but without the God he could never have been the perfect Saviour. The Divine, without the human, would have been an awe-inspiring fact, a spectacle of holiness too great for human eyes; but He could not have been a Saviour. If it were possible for us to conceive the one without the other we should certainly not find a JESUS in either. And so, your merely _human_ Officer, no matter how pure, how strong, how thoughtful, how clever, how industrious, will fail, and ever fail. And even so the Officer who is lost in visionary seeking after the Divine alone, to the neglect of action, of duty, of law, of self-denial, of the common conflicts and contracts of the man, will equally fail, and always fail. It is the man we want. The MAN--but the man born of the SPIRIT. The MAN--but the man full of the HOLY GHOST. The MAN--but the man with PENTECOST blazing in his head and heart and soul. Comrade, what are you? Are you striving to be a prophet without possessing the spirit of the prophets? Are you trying to be a priest without the priestly baptism? Are you labouring to be a king without the Divine anointing? Beware! IV. _From Infancy to Manhood_. Birth implies the weakness, the dependence, the ignorance of infancy. But it implies, also, the promise of growth, of increase, of advance from infancy to manhood. Thus it is with man generally. So it was with the Son of Man. First, He was "wrapped in swaddling clothes, and laid in a manger." Presently He goes forth in His mother's arms into Egypt, and back to Nazareth. By and by it is written that "the Child grew and waxed strong in spirit, and the grace of God was upon Him." Then He is found in the Temple, asking that wonderful question about His Father's business, and at last we find Him "increased in wisdom and stature, and in favour with God and man." We know, also, that He was found in fashion as a servant, and was obedient unto death; that He was tempted of the Devil, and that "He learned obedience by the things that He suffered." In fact, a very slight acquaintance with the history of His life reveals the truth that in some wonderful way He steadily grew in wisdom and grace; in the power to love and to serve, and in strength to grapple with sin and death--all the while He journeyed from the cradle to the grave and the victory beyond. His life was a discipline, in the very highest sense of the word. Many of the hopes He might rightly entertain about the success of His work were dashed. Much of His love for those around Him was disappointed, and His trust betrayed. He was despised where He should have been honoured: rejected where He should have been received. "He came unto His own, and His own received Him not." "Not this man," they cried, "but Barabbas." But out of it all He came forth perfect and entire, lacking nothing--the chiefest among ten thousand, the altogether lovely. It may be a mystery, but it is a fact all the same, that the more the precious and wondrous and eternal jewel was cut and cut again, the more the light and glory of the Day-spring from on High was made manifest to men. And here also I find a word of help and courage and cheer for you and me, my precious comrade. I am not sure that you could receive any more valuable Christmas gift than the full realisation of this truth--_that your advance from the infancy to the manhood of your life in God will not be hindered and delayed, but rather will be helped and quickened by the storms and trials, the conflicts and sufferings, which will overtake you_. It was so with the man Christ Jesus; it has been so with thousands of His chosen. As He, our dear Lord, was made perfect through suffering, so are His saints. We are "chosen in the furnace of affliction," and often cast into it, too! And yet He who chooses all our changes, might have spared us every trial and conflict, and taken us to victory without a battle, and to rest without a toil. But He knows better what will make us _men_, and it is _men_ He wants to glorify Him--men, not babes. The dark valleys of bitterness and loneliness are often better for us than the land of Beulah. A certain queen, once sitting for her portrait, commanded that it should be painted without shadows. "Without shadows!" said the astonished artist. "I fear your Majesty is not acquainted with the laws of light and beauty. There can be no good portrait without shading." No more can there be a good Salvationist without trial and sorrow and storm. There might, perhaps, remain a stunted and unfruitful infant life--but a _man_ in Christ Jesus, a _Soldier_ of the Cross, a _leader_ of God's people, without tribulation _there can never be_. Patience, experience, faith, hope, love, if they do not actually grow from tribulations, are helped by them in their growth. For what says the Apostle? "Tribulation worketh patience, and patience experience, and experience hope, and hope maketh not ashamed." The finest pine-trees grow in the stormiest lands. The tempests make them strong. Surgeons tell us that their greatest triumphs are often those in which the patients have suffered most at their hands--for every stroke of the knife is to heal. The child you most truly love is the one you most anxiously correct, and "whom the Lord loveth He chasteneth." Oh, _do_ believe that by every blow of disappointment and sorrow He permits to fall upon you, He is striving to bring you to the measure of the stature of a man in Christ Jesus. _Do_ work with Him in the full knowledge that He will not forsake you. He, the Man who has penetrated to the heart of every form of sorrow, and left a blessing there; He who has watched in silence by every kind of earthly grief, and found its antidote: the Man who trod the wine-press alone--He will be with you. And, since He is with you, see to it you acquit yourself well in His presence. It is related of an old Highland chief that when advancing to give battle he fell at the head of his clan, pierced by two balls from the foe. His men saw him fall, and began to waver. But their wounded captain instantly raised himself on his elbow, and, with blood streaming from his wounds, exclaimed, "Children, I am not dead; _I am looking to see if you do your duty_!" My comrade, this is the path of progress, the way of advance from the littleness and weakness of infancy to the battles and victories of manhood. It is the way of duty, and your Captain, with the wounds in His hands and His side, is looking on. III. Contrasts at Bethlehem. The birth and infancy of Jesus--notwithstanding that Christmas time comes round again and again--receive less attention than they deserve; owing, no doubt, to the interest attached to the events of His manhood and death. Nevertheless, they suggest some useful lessons, especially to those of us who have much to do with the weak and trembling, and are ourselves, alas! often weak and trembling, too. May I offer one or two thoughts on the subject, which, though quite simple, have proved of blessing to my own heart? I. _Great weakness may be quite consistent with true greatness and goodness_. It is unnecessary to dwell even for a moment on the weakness of the Infant Jesus. The Scripture has left no possible doubt about it. Unable to speak, to walk, indeed to do anything for Himself--weak with all the weakness of the human race; yea, more truly helpless than a young bird or a tiny worm, the Holy Child was laid in the manger hard by the beasts that perish. And yet we know that there was the Divine SON, the Express Image of the Father, the Everlasting King, the Enthroned One, the Creator, "without whom was not anything made that was made"! It is indeed a contrast, which first astounds us, and then compels our adoration and love. Our God is a consuming Fire--_our God is a little Child_. Holy, Holy, Holy, is the Lord of Hosts; the whole earth is full of His glory--_and yet He is there in fashion as a Babe_, for whom, in all His sweet innocence, they cannot find a room in the crowded inn. Yes, my friend, to be weak, to be small, to be sadly unfit for the strifes of time; to feel weary and unequal to the hard battles of life; to realise that you are pushed out and away by the crowd, to be contemptuously forgotten by the multitude shouting and singing across the road--all this may be your case; and _yet_ you may be God's chosen vessel, intended--framed "to suffer and triumph with Him." You, even you, may be destined by His wisdom to fill for Him some great place in action against the hosts of iniquity and unbelief. Above all, you may be appointed by God the Father to be like His Son, with a holy likeness of will, of affection, of character. For, indeed, weakness in many things is not inconsistent with goodness, and purity, and love. The manger has in this also a message for us. Out of that mystery of helplessness came forth the Lion-Heart of Love, which led Him, for us, to the winepress alone, and which, while we were yet rebels, loved us with an everlasting love, going, for us, to a lonely and shameful death. Take heart, then, remembering that it is out of weakness we are to be made strong. Be of good courage--to-day may be the day of the enemy's strength, when you are constrained to cry out: "This is your hour and the power of darkness!" but to-morrow will be _yours_. The weakness and humiliation of the stable must go before the Mount of Transfiguration, the Mount of Calvary, the Resurrection Glory, and the exaltation of the Father's Throne. Take heart! II. _A condition of complete dependence may be quite consistent with a great vocation--the call, that is, to a great work_. I suppose that there is nothing known to man so absolutely dependent upon the help of others as a little child! Life itself begins in total dependence upon another life, and is only preserved in still greater dependence on powers outside itself--for air, for light, for heat, for food, for clothes, for comfort--indeed, for every needed thing. This is especially the case with the child. The young lions and sheep, the tiny flies and the small fishes--these are all able to do something for their own support; but the new-born babe presents a picture of complete dependence. And this Babe was no exception. What a service of imperishable worth to all the world was rendered by His mother in her loving care of Him! And yet we know something of the stupendous task to which He came! That little Child was to become the greatest Example, the greatest Teacher, the greatest, the only Saviour, the greatest Healer of the sorrows of men, the greatest Benefactor, the greatest Ruler and King. Upon Him and upon His word, who lies there in His Virgin mother's arms, dependent on her breast for life and warmth, unnumbered multitudes were to rest their all for this life and the next--tens of thousands, in the face of inexpressible agonies, were to trust to Him their every hope, and for His sake were to die a thousand deaths. Let not, then, your heart be troubled because you also are so dependent on others--so hedged in by your circumstances, so limited by sickness and pain, so incompetent through inexperience and ignorance, or that you are so compelled to stand and wait when you would fain rush on and do or dare for your Lord. All this may be even so, and yet you may be called to share in the same high vocation as your Saviour. I read lately of an old saint chained for weary years to a dungeon-wall, unable even to feed himself, whose testimony for Jesus was powerful to the deliverance of many of his persecutors. He was killed at last, lest, one by one, he should convert the jailers also who were employed to supply him with food. Are you "bound" in some way? Are you chained fast to some strange trial? Are you appointed to serve in what seems like a den of beasts? Are you under the compulsion of some injustice? Are you made to feel helpless and useless without the support of those around you? Ah, well, do not repine. Do not forget that God's call comes often--Oh, so often--to just such as you--to witness for Him in spite of "these bonds," to declare the truth, to dare to reprove sin. Above all, _do not doubt your God. You may be very dependent to-day, but you may be more than victorious to-morrow_. III. _Poverty and friendlessness are often found in company with a great heart_. There was no home for Jesus in Bethlehem. There was no room for Him in the inn. There was no cradle in the stable. There was no protector when Herod arose to kill. What a strange world it is! Did ever babe open eyes on such a topsy-turvy condition of affairs? The King of Glory had not where to lay His head! Mary, it is true, was strong in faith, but both she and Joseph must needs soon fly into Egypt with the Babe. Refused at the inn, soon even the stable must cast them out! He came to take all men into His heart, and they, ere ever they saw Him, cast Him forth as an outlaw! And we who know what it means to be loved of Him, what can we say? Our hearts are bowed with something of shame and grief that He thus suffered, and yet we have a secret joy because He suffered so well! For of all the greatnesses of the Babe this is the greatest--the greatness of His heart. "The Sacred Heart of Jesus," the Romanists call it. "The All-Conquering Heart of Jesus," I prefer to name it. For it was His wealth of love that really gave Him the victory. Does one read these lines who is poor, who is cast out by those who are dear, who is a stranger in a strange land, who is driven from "pillar to post," who is harassed by open foes and wounded by secret enmity? Well, to that one let me say, remember your Lord's poverty and friendlessness; remember the tossings up and down of His infancy; the frugal cottage home in Nazareth wherein His family was finally gathered--despite its bareness and toil--was a place of peace and abundance, compared with the stable, the flight into Egypt, and the sojourn among aliens there. Are you, dear friend, tempted to complain of your narrow surroundings, of your small opportunity to shine before others, or of a want of appreciation of your service and gifts and powers by those who should know you? Oh, remember the Babe, and the long years of His condescension to men of low estate, to the cramped surroundings of the carpenter's shed, and the sleepy Jewish village. Are you tried sometimes because you have to suffer the hatred or jealousy, secret or open, of those for whom you feel nothing but goodwill, and who perhaps once thought themselves happy in your friendship? Well, in such hours, remember your Master, and the hatred of Herod seeking to kill the Child. Try to call to mind something of the secret, as well as the open, bitterness of men, religious and irreligious alike, which began to hunt Him while yet in swaddling clothes, and which hunted Him still all through His days. But amidst it all, what a great heart of passionate love was His! Blessed be His Name for ever! Whether the poverty and suffering and hatred were or were not favourable to it, there it was--_the Great Heart of all the world_. What about you? Can you ever be again the same since you learned that He loved you? Can you ever be again content to remain little and narrow, with interests and affections that are little and narrow also? Will you not rise, as He rose, above the small ambitions of the spiritual pigmies who meet you at every turn, determined to look beyond your own tiny circle, and the low aims of those around you? Depend upon it, you ought to do so. Depend upon it, the Holy Saviour can enable you to do so. Depend upon it, the world's great need is "Great Hearts." Will you be one? IV. Christ Come Again. "_And she brought forth her firstborn Son, and wrapped Him in swaddling clothes, and laid Him in a manger_."--Luke ii. 7. "_Christ formed in you_."--Gal. iv. 19. The life of Jesus Christ in Palestine was a foreshadowing of His life in all who accept Him. God appointed Him a Saviour, not only because He should bring redemption nigh by a sacrifice which He alone could offer, but because He was also appointed to be the firstborn of many brethren, to be the head of a new family, the beginning--the new Adam--the first of a new line, in which character should cease to be merely human, even though perfect with all human perfections, and should become a union of the human and the Divine; in which, in fact, the body and mind and spirit of man should continue to exhibit the wonder of Christ's Incarnation, and show forth God clothed with man. The life of Jesus divides itself quite naturally into several distinct periods, each having its own special characteristics and peculiar history. There is His birth and infancy; His childhood; His youth; His manhood; His perfected or completed life following Calvary and the Resurrection; and, may we not say, His eternal glory, upon which a few of His disciples saw Him begin to enter in the transcending splendour of the Ascension. Every one of these phases or sections of His wonderful experience of earth has its continuing lessons for us. All speak aloud to us of His purposes and plans, and reveal to us the power and force of His inner life in the outward or public appearances and acts which belong to each. God has hidden many things from us--mysteries of nature, of grace, of eternity; but this mystery of God's relations to men, He has exhausted His resources in order to make plain. Before all else the life of Jesus is a revelation of the mind and methods, the principles and the practices of God, as they ought to appear, and as they ought to work out, amid the surroundings and limitations of humanity. It is to the beginnings of that life to which our thoughts turn at this Christmas season. We dwell with affection on the oft-depicted picture, and repeat the oft-repeated words, and join in the old, old Hallelujahs of the shepherds with something of the zest and freshness of a first love. The story is so unlike all others, and touches with such unerring potency chords in the human soul which call it to a higher and nobler life, that, no matter who gazes upon the Babe of Bethlehem, he feels a kinship with all the world in hailing the Desire of all Nations. The manger, the silent companions of the stable, the swaddling clothes--what a touch of human tenderness--_motherliness_, so to speak--is in that line, "and wrapped Him in swaddling clothes"!--the adoring shepherds, the star, the wise men (all thoughts of their wisdom for the moment gone); the gold, the frankincense, the myrrh, the rejoicing and yet trembling mother, the little Child--we see it all. Seeing, we believe; and believing, we rejoice. The Day Star from on High hath visited _us_. We _know_ in whom we have believed. The great condescension is before us. Strength has made itself dependent on weakness, cause upon effect, eternity upon time, God upon man; and He has done it for our sakes. The Divine condescension never appears so new and so real to us as when we stand at the side of this lowly cradle. Here are no high-sounding doctrines, no hard words, no terrible commands, no far-off thunders of a new Sinai, no rumblings of a coming Judgment. Here we see Jesus, and Jesus only. Jesus showing Himself in our very own flesh and blood; submitting Himself to the weakness of our infirmities; voluntarily clothing Himself with our ignorance, and making God the present tangible possession of the whole human family, bringing Him "_very nigh to us, in our mouth and in our heart, if we can but believe_." And, more than this, God joined in that Babe His great strength to our great nothingness; He bound us to Himself; He robed us, as it were, with Himself, and He robed Himself in us. Henceforth the Tabernacle of God is with men. Henceforth every one of us may be conscious of an inward Presence, of which we may say in holy joy: "Angels and men before Him fall, and devils fear and fly." It is this manifestation of Jesus in His people for which the Apostle prays in the words I have quoted, "My little children, of whom I travail in birth again until Christ be formed in you." Nothing less will satisfy him, because he knew that nothing less will prevail against the power of the world, the flesh, and the Devil, in any human heart. "_Christ formed in you_," Christ born again in them--that is his agonised prayer, his one hope for them. In the workshops of human effort no instruments, no skill, no motive power exist for the formation and development of character apart from the energising vitality of God's Spirit dwelling in us. He is the indispensable foundation of any goodness, or wisdom, or beauty that can last. Purity begins and ends in Him. Faith finds her author and finisher in Him. Truth, which is the beauty of the soul, is but a reflection of His image, and love has no being but in Him. And so Paul says, _Let Him in_. Conformity to His example is only possible by the re-formation in you of His life, and the growth again in you of His person; the mind of Christ in your mind, the spirit of Christ in your spirit, the presence of Christ in your flesh and blood; the motive power of Christ, the Father's will, prompting your every thought and word and deed, and thereby transforming your body into a temple of the Son of God. And, because, in this unity of purpose with the Father, the Christ of Glory stooped to the infancy and childhood of Nazareth, yielding Himself completely to the bonds and limits inseparable from the life and conditions of a little child, and thinking no humiliation of our nature too deep for His love to tread, _so He will condescend to the lowest depths of weakness and want revealed in your heart and life_. He will meet you where you are. He will deal with you just where you are weakest and worst. This is indeed the key-note of all that God has to show you. It is your own link in the long chain of patient and ever-new revelations of God to man. For what is the history of man, what is the story the Bible has to tell, what is the testimony of all time, but that God has ever been speaking to man, appearing to man, opening now his eyes, and now his understanding, and now his heart, and making an everlastingly new revelation to the soul that God in him is his sole hope of glory. And His Christmas-message to-day is still the same. To you, if you are willing, Christ will come as really, as sensibly, as wonderfully--nay, a thousand times more so--as He came to Mary and to Bethlehem. In truth, a second coming; but in many and wonderful ways like unto the first. I. The childhood of Jesus was attended by remarkable recognitions of His Divinity. At His birth, at His dedication, in Herod's instant resolve to kill Him, in the Temple with the fathers, by many clear tokens men confessed and acknowledged that He was the Son of God. If He is being formed in you there will be equally definite and not very dissimilar signs of recognition. First, before all else, you will know, with Mary, that the new life entrusted to you is Divine; that God has entered into your heart to make all things new. It is just the absence of this assurance which stamps so much of the Christianity of the present day as--in effect--a religion without God. Its professors have no certainty. They seek, but they do not find; they ask, but they do not receive; they have no sure foundation in the sanction of their own consciousness to the indwelling Person; they have no revelation; they have, in short, no God. How far--even as the east is from the west--is this from the glorious confidence with which Mary sang, and in which you can join, if, indeed, your Christ is come: "My soul doth magnify the Lord, and my spirit hath rejoiced _in God my Saviour_." Salvation is of the Lord, and so is the assurance of it. Where there is the life of God, there will be His witness, even in the heart of the weakest and slowest servant of all His household. If you are not clear about this first evidence of your Lord's coming, let me counsel you that there is something wrong. _If Christ be formed in you, you will assuredly know it beyond the power of men or devils to make you doubt_. But others than Mary also acknowledge this appearance of God "manifest in the flesh." The shepherds and the Wise Men, Holy Simeon, and Herod the king, each in his own way adds his own tribute to the New Life that had come down to man. The shepherds and the strangers from afar bow down and worship. Strangers, perhaps, were more ready to rejoice with you than your own kith and kin when first Christ came to you. Simeon, who had so desired to see the salvation of God, sees and is satisfied. Perhaps some Simeon had thus watched and waited and wept for you, and when the Lord came to His temple, he saw it, and was ready to depart with joy. Herod the king sought to kill the Child. So it is even now. Don't be deceived; where Christ comes, storms come. The world of selfishness and power and wealth will kill the Divine Thing in you, if it can. Between the prince of this world and the Prince of the world to come no truce was possible long ago in quiet Judea, and no truce is possible now. The spirit of the world is still the spirit of murder. It is called by other names to-day, and, under its influence, men will tell you that the life of God in you is not to take those forms of violent opposition to wrong, and of passionate devotion to right, and of burning zeal and self-denial for the lost, which they took in Jesus. The real meaning of their tale is that they are seeking to kill the Child. But do not be dismayed. Remember Mary's flight into Egypt. The great peril of her Son made her regardless of her friends, of her reputation, of her home, of her life. She must guard that precious Life at any cost, at any risk, at any loss. Is there not a lesson in her example? Let nothing, let not all the sum total of this world's pleasures and possessions lead you to risk the Life of God in your soul. Listen to no voices that counsel friendship, or parley, or compromise with the world--_the spirit of Herod is in it_. If you cannot preserve that Indwelling without flying--from somewhere, or something, or some one--then fly. If you cannot guard that Presence without losing all, then let all be lost, and in losing all you shall find more than all. II. Side by side with these evidences of His Divinity the infancy and childhood of Jesus revealed His dependence and weakness; that is, _the reality of His human nature_. The first recorded act of His mother shows us one aspect of that weakness after a fashion which appeals to the tenderest recollections of the whole human family, "_She wrapped Him in swaddling clothes_"; and then, as though to mark for ever the perfection of dependence, the history goes on, "_and laid Him in a manger_." There are other equally striking incidents teaching just as clearly that the Babe was a babe, and that the Child was really a child. It is the perfect union of Him "Who was, and is, and is to come," with him who flourisheth as the flower of the field; the wind passeth over him, and he is gone. Even so may Christ be formed in you. The purity and dignity of His life will be all the more wonderfully glorious in the eyes of men and angels because it is linked with dependence and trial, and weakness and sorrow. As it was at Nazareth, so it is now. Hand in hand with Divinity walked hunger and weariness, poverty, disappointment, and toil. Did we think it would be otherwise? Did we, do we, sometimes wonder why the road is so rough, and the burden so heavy, and the sky so dark? Are we found asking the old question about sitting on the twelve thrones, judging those around us, and sharing in some way the royal glory of a King? and is there an echo of murmuring at these bonds and infirmities and drudgeries of daily duty and common sorrow? So did the Rabbis of old, and, in consequence, refused Him. Ah! the answer to it all is in the one word, it was because "He was made perfect through suffering;" it was because He learned obedience by the things He suffered that He must do it again through you--in you. Every energy of your being may thus be sanctified. Every pain, every sorrow, every joy, every purpose will be--not taken away; not crushed and hardened into a series of unfeeling forms and empty signs; not passed over as having no relation to his life, but touched and purified and ennobled with the love and power of an indwelling God. Yes, it is _man_ whom He came to restore--it is _man_, whose beauty and power were the glory of creation, that drew Him with infinite attractions from the centre of His Father's heaven, and plunged Him into the centre of a very hell of suffering and shame. It was man whose nature, passing by the angels, He took upon Him. It was man He swore to save. He loves our manhood--its will--its intelligence--its emotions--its passions; and it is our manhood He has redeemed. He designs to make men really men, to cleanse--to restore--to indwell in them, and finally to present every one in the beauty of a perfected character before the presence of His Father, without spot or blemish or any such thing. It is this great principle of Redemption that has found expression in The Salvation Army. We are of those who see in every human being the ruins of the Temple of God; but ruins which can be repaired and reconstructed, that He may fit them for His own possession, and then return and make them His abode. Never listen to that fatal lie, that to be a man means of necessity to be always a sinner; that humanity is only another word for irreclaimable desert or irreparable despair. When the enemy of your soul whispers to you out of his lying heart that because sin has found one of its strongholds in the appetites and propensities of your poor body, or in the original perversity of a rebellious spirit, and that you cannot be expected to triumph over that evil nature because it _is_ your nature, remember Bethlehem, and answer him with the promise of God, "_I will dwell in you, and walk in you_." It was because He purposed to cleanse wholly, body and soul and spirit, that He came, taking the body, soul, and spirit of a man, and that He will come again, taking your body, soul, and spirit as His dwelling-place. III. The birth and childhood of Jesus were the beginning of His great sacrifice, as well as the preparation for it. The spirit of Bethlehem and the spirit of Calvary are one. He was born for others that He might die for others. The mystery of God in the Babe was the beginning of the mystery of God on the cross. The one was a part of the other. If they had not "laid Him in a manger" for us, they could never have laid Him in the tomb, that He might "taste death for every man." And it was because "He grew, and waxed strong in spirit, and increased in wisdom, and the grace of God was upon Him" in those early years, that He was able afterwards to tread the winepress alone, to work out a perfect example of manhood, to wrestle with Death and the Grave, and finally to stand forth for us as the great Victorious One, conqueror of all our foes. And is it not in this same fashion and for this same purpose that Christ is to be formed in us? "_He grew_." Progress is the law of happiness, the law of holiness, the law of life. To stand still is to die. It was not enough for the fulfilment of His great mission that He should be born, that He should live--He must grow. Let us take that lesson to our hearts, in this superficial, painted, rushing generation. Let us beware of resting our hope to satisfy the eternal claims of God upon some great event in our spiritual history of long ago. It is not enough to have been converted. It is not enough to have had the adoption of the Father. It is not enough to have entered the spiritual family of Christ. It is not enough that even Jesus revealed Himself in us. Thousands of false hopes are built on these past events, which, divinely wrought as they may have been, have ceased to possess any vital connexion with the life and character of to-day. Such a religion is a religion of memory, destined to be turned in the presence of the Throne to unmixed remorse. But how, and in what, are we to grow? In manner and in substance like our Lord. Jesus grew in strength and stature, in wisdom and in grace--the grace of God was upon Him. _In spiritual strength and stature_; that is, from the timid babe to the bold and valiant soldier; in the power to do the things we ought to do, in the ability to obey the inward voice. It is by the exercise of the muscles and tendons of the babe that the bodily frame is fitted for the rush and struggle of life. It is by the A B C of the infant class that the mind is fitted to comprehend and appreciate the duties and obligations of political, social, physical, and family relationships. It is by the humble wail of the penitent, and the daily acts of loving help, that the soul learns to soar on eagles' wings, and shout the truth that God is gracious, and to brave difficulty and danger in His service. They go from strength to strength. Are you so journeying? _In wisdom_. Wisdom is a thing of the heart more than of the brain, and the wisdom of God is really a revelation of the love of God. To be "wise unto salvation" is to learn the lesson of love. To be "wise to win souls" is first to love souls. To feel that "it is more blessed to give than to receive," is the fruit of love. How different this from the calculating wisdom of this world! Dear comrade and friend, are you taking care that the Divine Life in you shall grow after this Christ-like fashion? When I hear Christian people say: "Oh, I have so little love, so little faith, so little joy," I generally find that it is so because they stifle and quench the blessed yearnings of the Divine Spirit to seek the souls of others; because they leave unanswered the urgings and promptings of duty which God in their conscience is demanding; because they neglect prayer, and self-denial, and heart-searching, and the Word of God; because, in short, they starve the Child. What wonder if love and faith are feeble, and joy is like to die! "And the grace of God was upon Him." Here was the promise of that entire sacrifice for men which culminated when a man cried out to Him on the cross: "_He saved others; Himself He cannot save_." It is ever thus that God repeats Himself. When we are ready to be offered up for the blessing and saving of others, then grace will come upon us for the struggle as it came upon Him. When Christ formed in us finds free course for all His mind and all His passion; when our eyes are opened to the great purposes of His life in the salvation of the whole world; and when we hear, through Him, the cry of those for whom He was born, and for whom He died, God will pour out on us grace to send us forth--grace sufficient, grace abundant, grace triumphant. Have you come to this? Can you say He is thus dwelling in you, and working in you, to will and to do of His good pleasure? Do not turn away with the paralysing fear that it cannot be; that the life of Jesus can never be lived out again in flesh and blood. Remember, He is "_the same yesterday, and to-day, and for ever_." All He was in Bethlehem, to Mary and Joseph; all He was to His work-mates at Nazareth; all He was in the wilderness, fighting with fiends, in the deserts feeding the hungry, or among the multitude--healing the sick, blessing the little children, casting out devils, and preaching the Kingdom; all He was in Bethany, weeping over Lazarus, and crying, "Lazarus, come forth"; in the garden of His agony, in the darkness of His cross, in the hour of His Resurrection, all this--all--all--all--He is to-day. _He belongs to the everlasting Now_. All He was to the martyrs who died for His Name, all He has been to our fathers, He is to us, and will be to our children, for with Him is no variableness nor shadow of turning. Yes! This unchanging Christ "_is in us, except we be reprobate_," the Life and Image of God, and the Hope of Glory. V. The Secret of His Rule. "_For we have not an High Priest which cannot be touched with the feeling of our infirmities; but was in all points tempted like as we are, yet without sin_."--Heb. iv. 15. We hail the Christmas season as the anniversary of our King's birth. Our eyes turn to the manger, and our hearts to Mary, for a thousand and one reasons, but the chiefest is that Jesus was born in Bethlehem as the Divine Son and the Royal Branch. Although we know that many shadows darken the way of the Cross, and that it is roughened by many thorns and agonies, many dark descents and weary struggles, we have always the assurance that at the end, and at the right time, there will be a crown and a throne. Standing at the manger, and looking over the hills of hatred and suffering, we can already see the great white Throne. From the wilderness of the Temptation we can even catch a glimpse of the marriage supper of the Lamb. In the darkness around the cross, we have visions of a great multitude, which no man can number, casting their crowns at the feet of the Crucified. Written large on all the life of Jesus there is, in fact, the witness that He will triumph. We know and feel it. It is revealed even when it is not stated. It is assured even when not promised. But I do not think that it is by virtue of this that Jesus Christ has exerted His greatest influence on the hearts of men. To be a king, to be in the royal line, is a great thing; and to be the Divine King is infinitely greater. To be a king, however, is one thing; to be a ruler is often quite another. The right descent, the royal birth, the due recognition, the ultimate taking possession of the throne, are enough to make the king, but far from enough to make the ruler. Principles, of course, there are, very important and far-reaching, involved in any sort of kingship. We have all heard of "the divine right of kings." We all see--even if we cannot understand it--the love of peoples for a king. Even when the heads of states are called by some other name than king, the fact of kingship is still there. All this denotes the working of great principles, having their roots in the deepest feelings of the human race. But I repeat, that to rule is quite another thing than to be a king. History abounds with examples of great monarchs who have not ruled, and of true rulers who have had no royal blood and no kingly throne. And just as there are facts in human experience which have made kings necessary and possible, so are there principles by which alone it is possible to rule. The kingship and rule of Jesus Christ our Lord was no exception. It is not my purpose to dwell here on the great and unchanging demands of the human soul which make His sovereignty a necessity of our well-being alike as citizens, and as individuals of His world. Unless the Lord is King, all must be confusion, dissonance, and disaster. The supreme fact in human life after all is, that our God is "the creator, preserver, and governor of all things." But what of His rule? There another principle comes into operation. On what is His _rule_ based? By what agency does He extend His _authority_ until it becomes _control_? And here it must be remembered that He aspires to rule men's hearts. His kingdom is moral and spiritual first, and then physical and material. That is why it will endure for ever. It is in the region of motive and affection, of reason and emotion, of preference and choice, that He designs to be Ruler. It is to reign in men's hearts that Christ laid aside His heavenly crown and throne. If He cannot be a Ruler there, then He will account little of His kingship in the skies. By what, then, does He rule? _Is it not by His compassion_? Has not that been the chief influence which has drawn men to Him, and held them in His service? Just think for a moment of one or two commonplace facts. I. _The Children_. At least three-fourths of the human family are always little children. To what does He owe the influence He exercises in the minds and hearts of multitudes of these little ones? His exalted throne? His royal lineage? His majesty? No; I think not to these, but to the revelation of His pity, His sympathy, His patience, His sweet, forgiving grace, His tender compassion as a Saviour. To them He is the "Friend above all others"--the Lowly One, the "Gentle Jesus, meek and mild." Viewing Him thus, they confess to Him in sin, they fly to Him in sorrow. His creative power, His everlasting habitations, His throne of unapproachable glory, His glorious and terrible judgments, are little more to the children than words and phrases--may I not say?--at best but the "trappings" of His person. They solemnise, they inspire, perhaps, with reverent fear; but they do not, they could not, secure that true ascendency over the nature of the child by which alone there can be real control and true rulership. II. _The Sorrowful_. Sorrow is the most common of all human experiences. There are no homes without it, and there are very few hearts which have not tasted of its cup. Earth is a vale of tears. Sooner or later, all men suffer. "Man is born unto trouble, as the sparks fly upward," and to millions of men Christ has appeared in their affliction and taken possession of their lives. What was the secret of His influence over them? Was it His dominion from sea to sea? Was it even His victory over death and His kingly conquest of the grave? Was it His sovereign throne of power? No, I do not think it was thus He won them; but as "the Man of Sorrows and acquainted with grief," who learned obedience by the things that He suffered, and who could compassionate with them in their sorrows also. It is one of the commonplaces of life that people associated in great suffering and trials obtain great influence with each other. And it is so here. Let the human heart once realise that in its deepest depths of sorrow it may have for helper One who has been deeper still; and it is in the nature of things that it should fly to that One for succour, for sympathy, for strength. And when that One out of His riches gives of His own might, and of His own sweet, unfathomed consolations, then His government is assured, His rule is established. III. _The Tempted_. Did I say that sorrow was the commonest of all human experiences? Ought I not to have said _temptation_? We all know the reality of temptation: its biting wounds, its power to assail, to harass, to irritate, to worry; its appeals to the senses, the animal in us; its assault of our confidence; its liberty to terrorise and to torment. Yes, every man is tempted. How shall he withstand temptation? What is it in Jesus Christ that calls the sorely-tempted one to Him? Is it His divine purity, His kingly holiness, His might as the supreme Sovereign whose law is good? No; I think that only those who have learned to love Him will love His law. Is it not rather the wonderful pity of Him of whom it is written, "We have a great High Priest, . . . touched with the feeling of our infirmities, . . . in all points tempted like as we are, yet without sin"? _Touched with the feeling of our infirmities_. There is the attraction of a supreme compassion for the tempted. There is the means by which the King of Righteousness becomes also the Ruler over tempted and sinful men. I can add but one other word now. If it is only by His continual compassion that our Master obtains and maintains His rule, will it not be by a similar means that we may hope to bless and influence the souls of men? Yes; that has been already the great lesson of The Salvation Army. It is founded on sympathy, on a universal compassion. The moment we turn away from that, and rely merely on our system, or on methods, or our teaching, we cease just in that proportion to be true Salvationists. We aspire to rule men's hearts. We care nothing for the position of a church or sect; we care everything for a real control over the souls and conduct of living men and women, that we may lead them to God and use them for His glory. It is by tenderness we shall win it. By seeking them in their sorrows and sins; by making them feel our true heart-hunger over them, our true love, our entire union with the Christ in His compassion for them. And the same principle will hold good in training those whom we have already won. This was, no doubt, the secret of Paul's great influence with his people. His whole heart was theirs; and they knew it. "We were gentle among you," he says, "even as a nurse cherisheth her children; so, being affectionately desirous of you, we were willing to have imparted unto you, not the Gospel of God only, but also our own souls, because ye were dear unto us." We know his courage, his lofty standard, his splendid impatience of shams, his tenacity of the truth, his contempt for danger, his daring unto death; and yet he can say of himself that, with it all, he was gentle among them as a nurse cherishing her children--ready to give up his very soul for them. Ah, Colonel, Captain, Sergeant, leaders all, whatever name you bear, do you want to lead and rule the people whom God has given you as a charge? Then here is the true secret of power--be for ever pouring out your heart's deepest, tenderest love for them, and most of all for the weak and the most unworthy and sinful amongst them. Do this, and you will not merely be walking after Paul--you will be walking _with_ Christ. VI. A Neglected Saviour. "_And He came and found them asleep again: for their eyes were heavy_."--Matt. xxvi. 43. I. There are few more instructive or more touching things in the life of our Lord Jesus Christ than His evident appreciation of human sympathy. Whether we observe Him at the marriage feast, or in the fishing-boat, or on the Mount of Olives, or when spending a time apart with His disciples, or in the Garden of His Agony, this appreciation expresses itself quite naturally and consistently. The Son of Man, though one with the Father, yet found joy and comfort in the society of men. What we call "companionship" had real charms for Him. It helped to draw Him out to the hungerings and thirstings of men; it assisted in revealing to Him the facts of human sin, and the needs of the human soul. Thus it enabled Him more perfectly to be our living example, as well as the propitiation for our sins. And as He valued the consolations arising from human friendship and love, so also He had to suffer the loss of them, in order that He might carry out His great work for God and man. For His work's sake, His soul was required to pass through the agony of losing every human consolation. Many were His moments of bitterness. The world proved itself to be, what it still remains, a cold-hearted affair; His own, to whom He came, received Him not. But the bitterest sorrow which can come to a leader was added to His cup, when He witnessed the failure of His trusted disciples in the hour of trial, and when He realised that their unfaithfulness was towards Himself as a person, as well as to the great mission to which He had consecrated both Himself and them. Now, when we are called upon to suffer in the same way, may we not be brought into very intimate fellowship with Jesus? Shall we complain because the servant is not above his Lord? Shall we doubt His love, and care, and power, because He does not always shield us from that same blast of loneliness which swept over His own soul in the Garden, when for the second, aye, and for the third time, He found His three disciples asleep? II. Sad as it is, it is none the less certain that we, too, must expect some in whom we have trusted to fail us in that hour when we most need them, be it the hour of supreme temptation, or of great opportunity, or of deep sorrow for the Kingdom's sake. It was precisely this which happened to our Lord. It is bad to be so dependent on men--even on the most beautiful, or most perfect souls--that we cannot fight on without them. The dependence of love must work hand in hand with the independence of faith, if we are to take our share in this trial of our Master and to profit by it. Those who thus fail us will, perchance, be the very persons upon whom we have most reason to rely, and whom in some sore trial of our faith or moment of danger, we have specially called upon for defence and prayer, for strength and sympathy, as did our Lord in the case of these disciples. Until now, Peter had been a valiant, not to say, reckless follower of Jesus; while all, John especially, had been well beloved and tenderly watched over by Him. And yet this woeful sleep deadens them to it all. Even for one short hour they cannot watch with Him. III. But such failure on the part of those who were loved and trusted will add immensely to the burden of the battle that we are fighting for God and the souls of men. It did so even to Jesus. Nothing more pathetic, more deeply heart-moving, is written in all God's Book, than this simple picture of the Man of Sorrows--struggling for the life of the human race, absolutely bereft of human aid--coming in the midst of His dark conflict to seek the touch of sympathy, a hand-grasp, a word, a look from those His well-loved followers, only to find them asleep in the gloom. Retracing His steps, He casts Himself on the ground, and cries, "My Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from Me." Am I wrong in saying that it was an added ingredient of bitterness in that cup to find that these, His trusted ones, could only sleep, while He must go forward to suffer? But their failure did not stop Him. No, not for one moment. There was agony in His heart, there were death shadows around Him, and bloody sweat upon His brow, but He did not waver. He went right on to finish the work He had promised to do. Gladly would He have had them with Him; steadfastly He goes forward without them! Here also is a lesson for you and for me. _The work is more than the worker_. And in times when we must lose, for our work's sake, that which we count dearer to us than our lives, when the iron of disappointed love enters our souls, as it entered His, we must follow Him, and go forward, steadfastly forward. IV. And after all, the failure of the disciples was very human. Their eyes were heavy. They were weary and sore tired. This, too, is typical of many of the losses we Salvationists are called upon to suffer. Some on whom we have relied and trusted grow weary in well-doing. The strain is so great! The tax on brain and heart and hand is so constant! Life becomes so burdened with watchings and prayings and sufferings for and with others, that there is little, if any, time or strength left for oneself! And so they cannot keep up, but seek rest and quiet for themselves elsewhere. They are heavy, and no longer feel the need to watch with us. Dear comrade, in your like trial do not doubt that the Lord Jesus is with you. Suffering of this kind will help to liken you to Him--it is a very real bearing of the Cross of Christ. Pitiful followers of Him should we be, if we wished to have only joy when He had only suffering. V. But the disciples' strange failure did not call forth one word of bitterness from our Lord's lips. A gentle reproach was certainly implied in the words, "Could ye not watch with Me one hour?" but no shade of personal displeasure expressed itself, much as the occasion might seem to warrant it. No! Jesus knew the failures begotten of human weakness, as well as the horror of human sin. And so He made allowances, and was as patient with those who left Him, as He was tender to those who were steadfast. He loved them both. Go thou, and do likewise. In your home; in your family circle; in your Corps; in your office; in your work, be it what it may; when men fail and forsake your Lord; even if all disappoint and desert you, _you must love them still_. Be faithful with them; but, above all, be steadfast in your own purpose, and devote all your zeal and strength to finish the work that God has given you to do. In short, go forward without them; but let your words, and thoughts, and prayers for them be like your Master's. And Jesus utters no word of complaint about this failure. The silence all through that great anguish is indeed very wonderful. Abandoned by man, He abandoned Himself all the more earnestly to His work for men without a murmur. And abandoned by God--as for a little time it seemed--He all the more completely abandoned Himself to God. To have fellowship with Him, you and I will have to walk the same path, and mind the same rule. When friends, or followers, or comrades trample upon the solemn covenants made alike to us and to God, and forsake, and leave us to finish our work and tread our winepress alone, let there be no moaning because of the pain it inflicts. When those upon whom we had a right--right by reason of natural law, or right by reason of the obligations and precious vows of friendship, or right on the ground of spiritual indebtedness--when those, I say, upon whom we had a right to depend fail us, let there be no complaining of their treatment because it is painful to us. Let there be no filling of the earth with laments and wailings, no accusing of our accusers, no reviling of those who revile us. Let us be silent in the patience of Jesus and in the strength of His love, and let His way of meeting the loneliness of desertion be our way--let us pray. But all the same, that sleep, that failure to respond to the personal claim of Jesus, was a sure forerunner of the cowardly flight, and the deadly denial which followed it. The seeds of Peter's lies and curses were sown in the selfishness and slumber of the garden; they came to maturity in the kitchen of the judgment hall. Poor Peter! How many hours of bitter self-reproach would you have been spared, had you but held out during that one brief hour of your watch in Gethsemane! How differently we could have regarded your poor wobbling nature! How differently, too, your Lord's great trial would have come to Him! How different might have been the history of mankind! VI. The method of love which Jesus adopted towards the forsakers received the sanction of success, _for they all came back_. In spite of their shame and their fears, they returned to their allegiance, with, I think, much more than their old faith and love. Judas was the only exception, and even he sought a place of repentance, and, but for his horrid league with the jealous and cruel religionists, would, I think, have found one. You see the lesson? If you go on with your work for God, and finish it, paying no heed to those who, having put their hand to the plough, look back; and if, in spite of your sorrow, you will struggle steadily forward in the face of the coldness and carelessness of those between whom and you there was once the tenderest love, God will not only carry you through your appointed labour for the world, but He will restore many of those others to their allegiance to Him and His. Will they ever be quite the same? Will they not have lost something? Yes, they will indeed have lost; but, if they come back, in reality they will gain more. The new union will be more divine than the former one. They will not merely . . . rise on stepping stones Of their dead selves to higher things; but the beauty, and excellence, and glory of love, the exceeding profitableness of enduring grace, and the sweet aroma of faithfulness, will be the more clearly manifest to the sons of men by reason of the weakness and breakableness of the human vessel. Let us, then, press forward, without one backward glance, until we finish our work. Let us thank God for those who are faithful; let us love and pray for those who fail, expecting to see them restored, healed, and purified. VII. Windows in Calvary. "_And they crucified Him . . . And sitting down they watched Him there_."--MATT, xxvii. 35, 36. Passing words spoken in times of deep emotion often reveal human character more vividly than a lifetime of talk under ordinary circumstances. Conduct which at other times is of the most trifling significance, reveals in the hour of fiery trial, the very inwards of the soul, even making manifest that which has been hidden, perhaps, for a generation. Thus, while watching a man with the opportunity and the temptation to deceive or oppress those who are in his power, you may see into the very thoughts of his heart; you may learn what he really is. Or you may measure the depths of a mother's love in observing her when, after violating every principle she has valued and lived for, her prodigal boy comes to ask her to take him in once more. In the same way, words spoken by the dying are often like windows suddenly uncovered, through which one may catch a glimpse of the ruling passion of life, in the light of which their life-witness and life-labour alike look different. It is this fact which often gives the dying hour of the meanest, importance as well as solemnity. The veriest trifler that ever trifled through this vale of tears has, in that last solemn hour something to teach of the secrets of mortality. And this revelation of the real facts of human experience is of the highest value to the world. It is one of God's witnesses to truth, _that truth will out_. Sooner or later, selfishness and sin will _appear_ in their naked deformity, to horrify those who behold them; and in the end, justice and truth and love are certain to be made manifest in their natural beauty, to convince and to charm and to attract their beholders. It is not only one of the uses of trial to bring this about, but it is one of the means by which God converts to His own high purposes, the miseries and sorrows the Devil has brought in. The one burns the martyrs; the other brings out of that cruel and frightful wrong the glorious testimony which is the very seed of His Church. The one casts us into fiery dispensations of suffering and loss; the other takes these moments of human anguish and desolation, and makes of them open windows through which a doubting or scoffing world may see what love can do. Thus He makes us to triumph In the midst of our foes, while working in us a likeness to Himself, the All-patient and All-perfect God. Nor is it the good and true alone who are thus made object-lessons to others, and to themselves, by these ordeals of pain. By them, many a bad man also is forced to appear bad to himself. Many a hypocrite, anxious about the opinions and the traditions of men, is at last stripped of his lies to see himself the wretched fraud he really is. Many a heart-backslider, whose religion has long ceased to be anything but a memory, awakes to the shame of it and to the danger; and often, thank God, awakes in time. Now, the words of the dying Christ on His cross are, in the same way, a true and wonderful revelation of His character and His spirit. As it is only by the light of the sun that we see the sun, so it is by Jesus that Jesus is best revealed. Never one spake like He spake; and yet in this respect, so real was His humanity, He spake like us all--He spake out what was in Him. _The Truth_ must, above all, and before all, make manifest what is true of Himself. To whom, then, did our Lord speak on the tree, and what spake He? What special thoughts and beauties of His soul do His words reveal? Jesus, so far as His words have been recorded for us, spoke from the cross to Mary His mother, to one of the thieves who was crucified with Him, to God His Father, and to Himself. I. _His Words to Mary_. "_When Jesus therefore saw His mother, and the disciple standing by, whom He loved, He saith unto His mother, Woman, behold thy son! Then saith He to the disciple, Behold thy mother_!" The position of Mary in those last hours was peculiarly grievous. She had lived to see the breaking down of every hope that a mother's heart could cherish for her son. Standing there amidst that mob of relentless enemies, and watching Jesus, forsaken by God and man in His mortal agony, her present sorrow, great as it was, was crowned by the memory of the holy and happy anticipations of His birth, and the maiden exultations of her soul when the angels foretold that her Son should be the Saviour of His people and their King. How cruelly different the reality had turned out! How far, how very far away, would seem to her the quiet days in Nazareth, the rapture of her Son's first innocent embraces, and the evening communions with Him as He grew in years! What tender memories the sight of those dear bleeding feet, those outstretched, wounded hands, would recall to that mother's heart! Yes, Mary on Calvary is to me a world-picture of desolate, withering, and helpless grief--of pain increased by love, and of love intensified by pain! And Jesus in His great agony--the Man of Sorrows come at last to the winepress that His heart might be broken in treading it alone; come to the hour of His travail; come to the supreme agony of the sin-offering; face to face with the wrath of the Judge, blackness and tempest and anguish blotting out for the moment even the face of the Father--forsaken at last--FORSAKEN--Jesus, in this depth of midnight darkness sees her standing by the cross. Bless Him, Oh, ye that weep and mourn in this vale of tears! Bless Him for ever! His eyes are eyes for the sorrowful. _He sees them_. He has tears to shed with them. He is touched with the same feelings and moved by the same griefs. He sees Mary, and speaks to her, and in a word gives her to John, and John to her, for mutual care and love. It was as though He said, "Mother, you bare Me; you watched and suffered for Me, and in this redeeming agony of My love, I remember your anguish, and I take you for ever under My care, and I name you Mine." Surely, there never was sorrow like unto His sorrow, and yet in its darkest crisis He has eyes and heart for this one other's sorrow. Far from Him, as the east from the west, is any of that selfish thought and selfish seclusion which grief and pain so often work in the unsanctified heart, aye, and in the best of us. What a lesson of practical love it is! What a message--especially to those who are called to suffer with Him for the souls of men--comes streaming from those words spoken to Mary. The burden of the people's needs, the care of the Church, the awful responsibility of ministering to souls--these things, sacred as they may be, cannot excuse us in neglecting the hungry hearts of our own flesh and blood, or in forgetting the claims of those of our own household. Dear friend and comrade, in _your_ sorrow, in your sore trial of faith, in _your_ Calvary, take to your heart this revelation of the heart of the Son of Man, and be careful of the solitary and heart-bleeding ones near you, no matter how humble and how unworthy they may seem. II. _His Words to the Thief_. "_And Jesus said unto him, Verily I say unto thee, To-day shall thou be with Me in Paradise_." The crucifixion of the two robbers with Jesus was a sort of topstone of obloquy and disgrace contrived by His murderers with the double object of further humiliating Him in the eyes of the people, and of adding poignancy to His own agony. The vulgarity and shamefulness of it were the last touch of their contempt, and the last stroke of His humiliation. There was a kind of devilish ingenuity in this circumstantial way of branding Him as a malefactor. And yet in the presence of this extremity of human wickedness and cruelty, Jesus found an opportunity of working a wondrous work of God; a work which reveals Him as the Saviour, strong to save, both by His infinite mercy and by His infinite confidence in the efficacy of His own sacrifice. "_To-day shalt thou be with Me in Paradise_." Eyes and heart for the _sorrowful_ He had, as we see; and now ears, and hope nigh at hand, for the _sinful_. No word of resentment; no sense of distance or separation between the spotlessness and perfection of His character and this poor lonely convict--but a strange and wonderful nearness, now and to come. "_With Me_," He says--"_With Me in Paradise_." Ah! this is the secret of much in the life of the Son of God--this intimate, constant, conscious nearness to sinners and to sin! He had sounded the depth of evil, and, knowing it, He pitied, with an infinite compassion, its victims; He got as near as He could to them in their misery, and died to save them from it. That heart-nearness to the thief had nothing to do with the nearness of the crosses. Every one knows what a gulf may be between people who are very near together--father and son--husband and wife! No, it was the nearness of a heart deliberately trained to seek it; a heart delighting in mercy, and deliberately surrendering all other delights for it; hungering and thirsting for the love of the lost and ruined. The hart panteth after the waters, The dying for life that departs, The Lord in His glory for sinners For the love of rebellious hearts. And so He is quite ready, at once, to share His heaven with this poor defiled creature, the first trophy of the cross. Again--what a lesson of love!--how different, all this, from the common inclination to shrink away from contact and intercourse with the vile! Oh, shame, that there can ever have been such a shrinking in our poor guilty hearts! The servant is not above his Lord. He came to sinners. Let us go to them with Him! III. _His Words to the Father_. "_Father, forgive them; for they know not what they do_." This prayer for His murderers is a revelation of the wonderful nearness and capacity of love. The Saviour passes from pole to pole of human ken, to find a ground on which He can plead for the forgiveness of those cruel and wicked men; and He finds it in their ignorance of the stupendousness of their sin against Him. It seems as though He chooses to remain in ignorance of what they did know, and to dwell only on what they did not. "They know not what they do!" It was ever so with Him! He has no pleasure in iniquity. Wrong-doers are so precious to Him that He never will magnify or exaggerate their wrong--no, not a hair's breadth. He will not dwell on it--no, not a moment, except to plead some reasonable ground for its pardon, such as this--the ignorance of the wrong-doer, or the rich efficacy of His sacrifice. He will only name sin to the Father, in order that He may confess it for the sinner, and intercede for mercy and for grace. This is the old and ever new way of dealing with injuries, especially "personal injuries." _Is it yours_? Are you seeking thus after reasons for making the wrong done to you appear pardonable? Is your first response to an affront or insult or slander, or to some still greater wrong, to pray the Father for those whom you believe to be injuring you, that His gracious gift of forgiveness may come upon them? That is the principle of Calvary. That is the spirit, the mind of Christ. That is the way in which He won the meed and crown: Trod all His foes beneath His feet, By being trodden down. "_Father, into Thy hands I commend My spirit_." Death has always been held to afford a final test of faith, and here the human soul of Jesus passed through that mortal struggle which awaits us all when heart and flesh shall fail. "_Into Thy hands_"--that is enough. As He passes the threshold of the unknown--goes as we must--into the Valley of the Shadow, faith springs forth and exclaims, "Into Thy hands." All shall be well. In this confidence I have laboured; in this confidence I die; in this confidence I shall live before Thee. IV. _To Himself_. "_It is finished_!" Thus in His last, ever-wonderful words Jesus pronounces Himself the sentence of His own heart upon His own work. _It is completed._ Every barrier is broken down, every battle is fought, every hellish dart has flown, every wilderness is past, every drop of the cup of anguish has been drunk up, and, with a note of victorious confidence, He cries out, "It is finished!" Looking back from the cross on all His life in the light of these words, we see how He regarded it as an opportunity for accomplishing a great duty, and for the fulfilment of a mission. Now, He says, "The duty is done--the mission is fulfilled; the work is finished!" Truly, it is a lofty, a noble, yea, a godlike view of life! Is it ours? Death will come to us. "The living know that they shall die." The waters will overflow, and the foundations will be broken up, and every precious thing will grow dim, and our life, also, will have passed. We shall then have to say of something, "_It is finished_!" It will be too late to alter it. "There is no man that hath power in the day of death." _What, then, shall it be that is finished_? A life of selfish ease, or a life of following the Son of Man? A life of sinful gratification, of careful thought of ourselves, unprofitable from beginning to end, or a life of generous devotion to the things which are immortal in the honour of God and the salvation of men? VIII. The Burial of Jesus. Good Friday Fragments. "_And after this Joseph of Arimathoea, being a disciple of Jesus, but secretly for fear of the Jews, besought Pilate that he might take away the body of Jesus: and Pilate gave him leave. He came therefore, and took the body of Jesus. And there came also Nicodemus, which at the first came to Jesus by night, and brought a mixture of myrrh and aloes, about an hundred pound weight. Then took they the body of Jesus, and wound it in linen clothes with the spices, as the manner of the Jews is to bury. Now in the place where He was crucified there was a garden; and in the garden a new sepulchre, wherein was never man yet laid. There laid they Jesus therefore, because of the Jews' preparation day; for the sepulchre was nigh at hand_."--John xix. 38-42. Death has many voices. This death and burial speak aloud in tones of triumph. It as a death that made an end of death, and a burial that buried the grave. And yet it was also a very humble and painful and sad affair. We must not forget the humiliation and poverty and shame written on every circumstance any more than the victory, if we would learn by it all that God designed to teach. I "_He tasted Death_." To many, even among those who have been freed from guilty fear, mortality itself still has terrors. By Divine grace they can lift up their hearts in sure and certain hope of a glorious resurrection, and yet they shrink with painful apprehension at the thought of the change which alone can make that resurrection possible. There is probably no instinct of the whole human family more frequently in evidence than this repulsion for the grave. Death is such an uncouth and hideous thing. Nothing but bones The sad effect of sadder groans; Its mouth is open, but it cannot sing. All its outward circumstances help to repel us--the shroud, the coffin, the grave, the silent shadows, the still more silent worms, the final nothingness. The mental conditions, too, generally common to the last acts of life, tend to intensify the feeling: the separation from much that we love, the sense of unfinished work, the appreciation of grief which death most usually brings to others: the reality of disappointed hopes, the feeling that heart and flesh fail, and that we can do no more--all these tend to make it in very truth the great valley of the dark shadow. To many, even among the chosen spirits of the household of faith, approaching death also starts the great "_Why_?" of unbelief. For, in truth, the death of some is a mystery. It is better that we should say so, and that they should say so, rather than that we should profess to be able to account for what, as is only too evident, we do not understand. In confronting death this mystery is often the great bitterness in the cup. To die when so young! To die when so much needed! To die so soon after really beginning to live! To die in the presence of so great a task! Oh, why should it be? How much of gloom and shadow has come down on hearts and households I have known, from the persistency of that "Why?" intensifying every repulsion for the hideous visitor, adding to every other the greatest of all his terrors--_doubt_. Now, in the presence of such doubts--or perhaps I ought rather to call them questionings and shrinkings--has not this vision of the dead body of our Lord something in it to charm away our fears? Does it not say to us: "I have passed on before; I that speak in righteousness, Mighty to save. I have trodden the winepress alone. At My girdle hang the keys of life and death; I, even I, was dead; yes, really, cruelly dead; but I am alive for evermore"? _He tasted death_. The king of terrors was out to meet Him. The long shadows of the gloomy valley really closed Him round, and He crossed over the chilly stream just as you and I must cross it--all alone. Nothing was wanting which could invest the scene, the hour, the circumstances with horror and repulsion. There was pain, bodily pain; there was mental anguish; there was the howling mob, the horrid contempt for Him as for a malefactor; the lost disciples and shattered hopes; the reviling thief; the mystery of the Father's clouded face; the final sinking down; the letting go of life; the last physical struggle--when He gave up the ghost and died. Yes. He passed this same way before you. He wore a shroud. He lay in a grave. The last resting-place is henceforth for us fragrant with immortality. The very horrors, and shadows, and mysteries of the death-chamber have become signs that death is vanquished. The tomb is but the porch of a temple in which we shall surely stand, the doorway to the place of an abiding rest. "In My Father's house are many mansions: if it were not so, I would have told you." Living or dying--but especially when dying--we have a right to cry with Stephen, the first to witness for Christ in this horror of death, "Lord Jesus, receive my spirit." To Him we commit all. He passed this way before with a worn and bruised body, in weakness and contempt, with dyed garments and red in His apparel, and on Him we dare to cast ourselves--on Him and Him alone. On His merits, on His blood, on His body, dead and buried for us. He will be with us even to the end--_He has passed this way before us_. II. "_A Savour of Death unto Death._" A celebrated Roman Emperor who had in the very height of his power embarked on a campaign for the extermination, with all manner of cruelties, of the followers of Jesus Christ, spoke one day to a Christian, asking him in tones of lofty contempt and derision:-- "What, then, is the Galilean doing now?" "_The Galilean_," replied the Christian, "_is making a coffin_!" In a few years the great Emperor and the vast power he represented were both in that coffin! Since his day, how many other persecutors have also journeyed surely to it! How many infidels--nay, how many systems of infidelity, have passed on to dust and oblivion in that same casket! What multitudes of doubters--of ungodly, unclean, unregenerate--have been laid within its ever-widening bands! What vast unions of darkness, hatred, and cruelty, under the leadership of the great and the mighty, have been broken to pieces beside that coffin! How much that seemed for a time proud and rich and great in this poor world's esteem, has at last passed into it, and disappeared for ever! Yes, the martyr of long ago, on the blood-besmeared stones of persecuting Rome, was right, the Galilean Saviour and King not only made a Cross, but He made, and He goes on making, a coffin! Will _you_ not have His Cross? Is there no appeal to you to-day from that hill side, without the city wall? Does it not speak to _you_ of the power, the sweetness and nobleness of a life of service, of sacrifice for others, of toil for His world. Has it no message for _you_ of victory over sin and death, of life from the dead--life, abundant life, in the Blood of the Son of Man! Believe me, unless you accept His Cross, He will prepare for you a coffin. "The _wages_ of sin is death." It matters not how noble your aspirations, how lofty your ideals of life and conduct, how faithful your labour to raise the standard of your own life--unless you accept the Cross, all must go into the grave. Your highest aims, together with your lowest, your most cherished conceptions, your most deeply-loved ambitions, all must be entombed. "Whosoever shall fall on this stone shall be broken, but on whomsoever it shall fall it will grind him to powder." If His death-sacrifice be not a savour of life unto life it must be a savour of death unto death. This is the single alternative. Jesus Christ in life and death is working in you, in us all, toward one of these ends--either by love and tears and the overflowing fountain of His passion to gather us into the union of eternal life with Him and with the Father; or to entomb us--all that we have and all that we are--in the death and oblivion of the grave He has prepared. III. "_And He was Buried_." For a little time they lost Him. The grave opened her gloomy portals; they laid Him down, and the gates were closed--for a little time. And yet He was just as really there, as really alive for evermore, as really theirs and ours, as really a victor--nay, a thousand times more so, than if He had never bowed Himself under the yoke of Nature. He was gone on before, just a little while, that was all. Is not that the lesson of His burial for every one who sorrows for the loss of loved ones called up higher? Are they not buried with Him? Are they not gone on before? Are they not ours still? Are we not theirs as really as ever? He passed through that brief path of darkness and death out into the everlasting light of the Resurrection Glory. Do you think, then, that He will leave them behind? The grave could not contain _Him_. Do you think it has strength to hold _them_? You cannot think of Him as lying long in the garden of Joseph of Arimathaea; why, then, should you think of your dear ones as in the chilly clay of that poor garden in which you laid them? No--no! they are alive--alive for evermore; because He lives, they live also. Yes! this was the meaning of that strange funeral of His--this was at least one reason why they buried Him. It was that He might hold a flaming torch of comfort at every burial of His people to the end of time. Sorrow not, then, as those that have no hope. He is hope. Your lost ones, perhaps, were strongly rooted in your affection, and your heart was torn when they were plucked up. You cried aloud with the Prophet: "Woe is me, for my hurt! my wound is grievous. But I said, Truly this is a grief, and I must bear it; my tabernacle is spoiled, and all my cords are broken." Ah, but remember He was buried also. He knows about the way. He was there. He has them in His keeping. They are His, and yours still. You have no more need to grieve over their burial than over His. They live, they love, they grow, they rejoice. They are blessed for evermore. And our dear dead will meet us again, if we are faithful, in those bodies which our Lord has redeemed. That also is the witness of His burial and resurrection. The corruptible shall put on incorruption. In the twinkling of an eye shall it be done. And we shall see them in the body once more, even as His disciples saw Him. They supposed at first that they saw a spirit, but He said: No! "Behold My hands and My feet, that it is I Myself: handle Me, and see; for a spirit hath not flesh and bones, as ye see Me have!" This blessed hope is our hope. Love is indeed stronger than death; many waters, nay, the swellings of Jordan themselves, cannot quench it! Dear ones, gone on before, we shall embrace you again; hand in hand--the very same hands--we shall greet our King:-- Together we'll stand When escaped to the shore, With palms in our hands We Will praise Him the more; We'll range the sweet plains On the banks of the river, And sing of Salvation For ever and ever. Yes--we know and love you still, because we know and love our Lord. IX. Conforming to Christ's Death. "_That I may know Him . . . being made conformable unto His death_."--Phil. iii. 10. "_Conformable unto His death_." At first sight the words are something of a surprise. "_His death?_" Has not the thought more often before us been to conform to _His life_? His death seems "too high for us"--so far off in its greatness, in its suffering, in its humiliation, in its strength, in its glorious consequences. How is it possible we should ever be conformed to such a wonder of love and power? And yet, here is the great Apostle, in one of those beautiful and illuminating references to his own experience which always seem to bring his messages right home to us, setting forth this very conformity as the end of all his labours, and the purpose in all his struggles. "What things were gain to me," he says, "those I counted loss for Christ; yea, I count all things but loss for the excellency of the knowledge of Christ Jesus my Lord: for whom I have suffered the loss of all things, and do count them but dung, that I may win Christ, and be found in Him*, having . . . the righteousness which is of God by faith: that I may know Him, and the power of His resurrection, and the fellowship of His sufferings, _being made conformable unto His death_." [Footnote *: Or, as the Revised Version has it in the margin, "not having as my righteousness that which springs from the law; but that which is through faith in Christ, the righteousness which is of God on the condition of faith: . . . becoming conformed unto His death."] There are probably deeps of thought and purpose here which I confess that I cannot hope to fathom; which in the limits of such a paper as this I cannot even suggest. Is it possible, for example, that the sorrow and suffering which fall upon those who are entirely surrendered to God and His work are, in some hidden way, sorrow and suffering for others? Is this what Paul means when he says in his letter to the Colossians: I "fill up that which is behind of the afflictions of Christ, in my flesh, for His body's sake, which is the Church"? It may be so. This would indeed be a glorious and a wonderful "_fellowship of His sufferings_." Or, again, consider what an entirely new light might be thrown upon God's dealings with us in afflictions and pain, if it should appear, in the world to come, that, in much which is now most mysterious and torturing to us, we had but been bearing one another's burdens! Every one knows how often love makes us long to bear grief and pain for those dear to us; every one has seen a mother suffer, in grateful silence, both bodily pain and heart-anguish, in her child's stead, preferring that the child should never know. Suppose it should turn out, hereafter, that many of the afflictions which now seem so perplexing and so grievous have really been given us to bear in order to spare and shield our loved ones, and make it easier for them--tossing on the stormy waters--to reach Home at last? Would not this add a whole world of joy to the glory which shall be revealed? And would it not transform many of the darkest stretches of our earthly journey into bright memorials of the infinite wisdom and goodness of our God? But I pass away from matters of which we have, at best, but a gleam, to those concerning which "he that runs may read." But if Christ upon His cross is meant for an object-lesson to His people, is it not reasonable to expect that His words spoken in those supreme moments should throw light upon that conformity to His death of which we are thinking? The words of the dying have always been received as revealing their true character. Death is the skeleton-key which opens the closed chambers of the soul, and calls forth the secret things--and in the presence of the "Death-Angel" men generally appear to be what they really are. Our Lord and Saviour was no exception to this universal rule. To the latest breath, We see His ruling passion strong in death. His dying words are filled with illuminating truth about Himself, and they throw precious light upon His death. Let us, then, tarry for a few moments before His cross, and look and listen while He speaks. I. "_Father, forgive them; they know not what they do_." Men were doing the darkest deed of time. Nothing was wanting to make it hateful to God and repulsive to mankind. All the passions to which the human heart is prone, and all that the spirits of Hell can prompt, had joined forces at Calvary to finish off, in victory if possible, the black rebellion which began in Eden. Everything that is base in human nature--the hate that is in man, the beast that is in man, the fiend that is in man--was there, with hands uplifted, to slay the Lamb. The servants of the Husbandman were beating to death the beloved Son whom He had sent to seek their welfare. It was amidst the human inferno of ingratitude and hatred that these words of infinite grace and beauty fell from the lips of Love Immortal. Long nails had just pierced the torn flesh and quivering nerves of His dear hands and feet; and while He watched His murderers' awful delight in His agony, and heard their jeering shouts of triumph, He lifted up His voice and prayed for them, "_Father--forgive_." There are thoughts that lie too deep for words. The inner light of this message may be revealed--it cannot be spoken. But one or two reflections will repay our consideration. Here was a consciousness of sin. Here was the suggestion of pardon. Here was prayer for sinners. A _consciousness of sin_--of theirs--ours--not His own. Infinite Love takes full account of sin. Boldly recognises it. Straightway refers to it as the source of men's awful acts and awful state. "_O My Father, forgive_!" On the cross of His shame, in the final grip with the mortal enemy, the dying Christ--looking away from His own sufferings, forgetful of the scorn, and curses, and blows of those around Him--is overflowing with this great thought, with this great _fact_--that men's first imperative, overwhelming need, is the forgiveness of their sin. _The suggestion of pardon_. He prays for it. What a transforming thought is the possibility of forgiveness! How different the vilest, the most loathsome criminal becomes in our eyes the moment we know a pardon is on the way! How different a view we get of the souls of men, bound and condemned to die, given up to selfishness and godlessness, the moment we stand by the cross of Jesus, and realise, with Him, that a pardon is possible! The meanest wretch that walks looks different from us. Even the outwardly respectable and very ordinary person who lives next door, to whom we so seldom speak, is at once clothed with a new interest in our minds, if we really believe that there is a pardon coming for him from the King of kings. He _prays_. Yes, this is the great prayer. What an example He has left us! It was not enough to die for the sinful--the ungrateful--the abominable--He must needs pray for them. Dear friend, you may have done many things for the ungodly around you--you may have preached to them, and set them also a lofty example of goodness; you may even have greatly suffered on their behalf; but I can imagine one thing still wanting: have you prayed the Father for them? Remember, He pleaded for the worst: those very men who said, "Let His blood be on us, and on our children." He prayed even for those, and I do not doubt that He was heard. Indeed, it was, I earnestly believe, His prayer which helped on that speedy revival in Jerusalem; and among the three thousand over whom Peter and the rest rejoiced were some who had urged on and then witnessed His cruel death, and for whom His tender accents ascended to the Throne of God amid the final agony of His cross. Dear friend, are you "becoming conformed unto His death"? II. "_To-day shalt thou be with Me in Paradise_." "_He saved others-He saved others--Himself He cannot save!_" Amidst the din of discordant voices, this taunt sounded out clear and loud, and fell upon the ears of a dying thief. Perhaps, as so often happens now, the Devil over-reached himself even then, and the strange words made the poor criminal think. "_'Others'--'others'--He saves others--then why not me?_" Presently he answered the railing unbelief of his fellow-prisoner; and then, in the simple language of faith, said to the Saviour: "Lord, remember me when Thou comest into Thy Kingdom." Jesus Christ's reply is one of the great landmarks of the Bible. It denotes the boundary line of the long ages of dimness and indefiniteness about two things--_assurance of salvation in this life, and certainty of immediate blessedness in the life to come_. "To-day shalt thou be with Me in Paradise!" There is nothing like it in all the Scriptures. It is as though great gates, long closed, were suddenly thrown wide open, and we saw before our eyes that some one passed in where none had ever trodden before. The whole freedom and glory of the Gospel is illustrated at one stroke. Here is the Salvation of The Salvation Army! To-day--without any ceremonies, baptisms, communions, confirmations, without the mediation of any priest or the intervention of any sacraments--such things would indeed have been only an impertinence there--to-day, "TO-DAY shalt thou be with ME." Indeed the gates are open wide at last! But the great lesson of the words lies rather in their revelation of _our Lord's instant accessibility to this poor felon_. His nearness of heart; His complete confidence in His own wonderful power to save; His readiness of response--for it may be said that He leaps to meet this first repentant soul--are all revealed to us. But it is the fact that, amid that awful conflict, His ear was open to another's cry--and such another!--which appeals most to my own heart. With those blessed words of hope and peace in my ears, how can I ever fear that one could be so vile, so far away, so nearly lost, as to cry in vain? Nay, Lord, it cannot be. III. "_Woman, behold thy son_." When Jesus had spoken these words to His mother, He addressed the disciple He had chosen, and indicated by a word that henceforth Mary was to be cared for as his own mother. Great as was the work He had in hand for the world, great as was His increasing agony, He remembered Mary. He knew the meaning of sorrow and loneliness, and He planned to afford His mother such future comfort and consolation as were for her good. This tender care for His own is a rebuke, for all time, to those who will work for others while those they love are left uncared for; left, alas! to perish in their sins. If regrets are possible in the Kingdom of Heaven, surely those regrets will be felt most keenly in the presence of divided families. And if anything can enhance the joys of the redeemed, surely it must be that they are "families in Heaven." Who can think, even now, without a thrill of unmixed delight, of the reunions of those who for long weary years were separated here? What, then, will it be-- When the child shall greet the mother, And the mother greet the child; When dear families are gathered That were scattered on the wild! And what strength and joy it was to Mary. Looking forward to the coming victory, He knew that nothing could so possess her mother-heart with gratitude, and fill her soul with holy exultation as this--that He, the Sacrifice for sin, the Conqueror of Death, and the Redeemer of His people, was _her Son_. And so He makes it quite plain that He, the dying Saviour, was Mary's Son. IV. "_It is finished_." There is a repose, a kind of majesty about this declaration which marks it out from all other human words. There is, perhaps, nothing about the death of Jesus which is in more striking contrast with death as men generally know it than is revealed in this one saying. We are so accustomed to regrets, to confessions that this and that are, alas! _unfinished_; to those sad recitals which so often conclude with the dirge-like refrain, "it might have been," that death stands forth in a new light when it is viewed as the end of a completed journey, and the conclusion of a finished task. This is exactly the aspect of it to which our Lord refers. His work was done. The suffering, also, was ended. Darkness had had its night of sore trial, and now the day was at hand. Trial and suffering do end. It is sometimes hard to believe it, but the end is already appointed from the beginning. It was so with the Saviour of the world; and at length the hour is come, and He raises His bruised and bleeding head for the last time, and cries in token of His triumph, "_It is finished_!" But is there not also here a suggestion of something more? _Up to that concluding hour it was always possible for Him to draw back._ "I lay down My life for the sheep," He had said; "no man taketh it from Me, but I lay it down of Myself." His was, in the very highest and widest sense of the word, a voluntary offering, a voluntary humiliation, a voluntary death. Up to the very last, therefore, He could have stepped down from the cross, going no further toward the dark abyss. But the moment came when this would be no longer possible; when, even for Him, the sacrifice would be irrevocable--when the possibility "to save Himself" was ended, and when He became for ever "the Lamb that was slain," bearing the marks of His wounds in His eternal body. When that moment passed, He might well say, "It is finished." Is there not something that should answer to this in the lives of many of His disciples? Is there not a point for us, also, at which we may pass over the line of uncertainty or reserve in our offering, saying for ever--it is finished? Is there not an appointed Calvary somewhere, at which we can settle the questions that have been so long unsettled, and, in the strength of God, at last declare that, as for controversy of any kind with Him, "it is finished"? Is there not at this very same cross of our dying Saviour a place where doubt and shame may perish together--crucified with Him, and finished for ever? This would be, indeed, a blessed conformity to His death. V. "_I thirst_." This is the first of the three words of Christ which relate specially to His own inner experiences, and which I have placed together for the purpose of this paper. "_I thirst_." They gave Him vinegar to drink--or, probably, in a moment of pity the soldiers brought Him the sour wine which they had provided for themselves. He seems to have partaken of it, although He had refused the mixture that had been before offered Him merely to deaden His pain. To bear that pain was the lofty duty set before Him, and so He would not turn aside from it one hair's breadth. But He humbled Himself to receive what was necessary from the very hands that had been crucifying Him. He, who could have so easily commanded a whole multitude of the heavenly host to appear for His succour, and to whose precious lips, parched in death, the princes of the eternal Kingdom would have so gladly hastened with a draught from celestial springs, condescended to ask the help of those who mocked Him, and to take the support He so sadly needed from His triumphant persecutors. Oh, you who are proud by nature, who are reserved by nature, who are sensitive in spirit, who feel every wrong done to you like a knife entering your breast, and who, when you forgive an injury, find it difficult to forget, and harder still to humble yourselves in any way to those who, you feel, have wronged you--here for you is a lesson, here for you is an example, a precious example, of the condescension of Love. Yes. to love those who seem to be against you, to love those in whom there always appears to you to be some difference of spirit or incompatibility of temperament, will mean, if you are made conformable unto your Master's death, that you will be able to receive at their hands services, kindnesses, pity, advice, which your own poor, fallen nature would, without divine grace, have scorned and spurned. VI. "_My God, My God, why hast Thou forsaken Me?_" Here is a great mystery. No doubt, to the human nature of our Lord, it did appear as though the Father had forsaken Him, and that was the last bitter drop in the cup of His humiliation and anguish. If men only knew it, the realisation that God has left them will be the greatest agony of the sinner's doom. And here upon the cross, our Lord, undergoing the penalty of sins not His own has yet to experience fully the severance which sin makes between God and the human soul. But, even to many of those who love and serve God fully, there does come at times something which is very similar to this strange and dark experience of our Lord's. Before the final struggle in many great conflicts, those inward consolations on which so much seems to depend are often mysteriously withdrawn. Why it should be so we do not know; it is a mystery. Some loyal spirits have thought that God withdraws His consolations and His peace, that the soul may be more truly filled with His presence, thus substituting for divine consolation the "God of consolation," and for divine peace the "God of peace." In any case we have this comfort: it was so with our Master. Do not let the servant expect to be above his Lord. This terrible moment of seeming separation from the Father, and the dark cry which was wrung from our Saviour's broken heart, did not, however, make the final victory any the less. And, if you are one with Him, and have really set your heart on glorifying Him, and if you can only _endure_, such moments will not take from your victory one shred of its joy. Oh, then, _hold on to your cross_! hold on to your cross! even if it seems, as it sometimes may, that God Himself has forsaken you, and that you are left to suffer alone, without either the sympathy of those around you, or the conscious support of the indwelling God. _Hold on to your cross_. This is the way of Calvary--this is becoming conformable to the death of the Lord Jesus. VII. "_Father, into Thy hands I commend My spirit_." Here our Lord enters upon the extremity of His humiliation. Death must have been repulsive to Him. If the failure of heart and flesh, the cold sweat, the physical collapse, the last parting, the solitude and separation of the grave are all repelling and painful to us, _how much more to Him_! And, indeed, the picture which Christ presents to the outward eye in these last moments is unquestionably one of deep humiliation. The disordered garments--stained with blood and dirt, the distended limbs, the bleeding wound in His side, the face smeared with bloody sweat and dust, the torn brow and hair, and the swollen features, must have combined with all the horrible surroundings to make one of the most gruesome sights that ever man saw. And it was at this moment, _in His extremity_, that He says: "Father, into Thy hands I commend My spirit." "Father, I have done all that I can do; now I leave Myself and the rest to Thee." Here is a beautiful message--the great message about Death. This is, in fact, the one way to meet the shivering spectre with peace and joy. But the great lesson of this last word from the cross of Jesus is the lesson of Abraham, and Isaac, and Jacob: _that faith in the Father is the inner strength and secret of all true service_. It was, in a very wonderful and real sense, by _faith_ that He wrought His wonders, by faith He suffered, by faith He prayed for His murderers, by faith He died, by faith He made His atonement for the sins of the world. The faith that not one iota of the Father's will could fail of its purpose. Oh, dear comrade and friend, here is the crowning lesson of His life and death alike--"_Have faith in God_." Will you learn of Him? In _your_ extremity of grief or sorrow--if you are called to sorrow--will you not trust Him, and say, "Father, into Thy hands I commend my bereaved and bleeding heart"? In your extremity of poverty--if you are called to poverty--Oh, cry out to Him, "Father, into Thy hands I commend my home, my dear ones." In your extremity of shame and humiliation--arising, maybe, from the injustice or neglect of others--let your heart say in humble faith, "Father, into Thy hands I commend my reputation, my honour, my all." In your extremity of weakness and pain--if you are called to suffer weakness or pain--cry out in faith, "Father, into Thy hands I commend this my poor worn and weary frame." In your extremity of loneliness and heart-separation from all you love for Christ's sake, if that be the path you tread, will you not say to your Lord, "Father, into Thy hands I commend my future, my life; lead Thou me on." Yes, depend upon it, _faith is the great lesson of the cross_. By faith the world was made; by faith the world was redeemed. If we are truly conformed to His death, we also must go forward in faith with the great work of bringing that redemption home to the hearts of men; and all we aim at, all we do, all we suffer, must be sought for, done, and suffered in that personal, simple faith in our Father and God which Jesus manifested on His cross, in that hour when all human aid failed Him, and when He cried in the language of a little child, "_Father, into Thy hands I commend My spirit_." X. The Resurrection and Sin. "_Concerning His Son Jesus Christ our Lord, which was . . . declared to be the Son of God with power, according to the spirit of holiness, by the resurrection from the dead_."--Romans i. 3, 4. Just as one of the great proofs, if not the great proof, of the truth of Christianity is the vast fact of the world's need for it, so one grand proof of the Resurrection lies in the fact that no interpretation of Christ's teaching or Christ's life would be worth a brass farthing--so far as the actual life of suffering man is concerned--without His Death and Resurrection. That teaching might be illuminating--convincing--exalting; yes, even morally perfect; and yet, if He did not die, it would be little more than a superior book of proverbs or a collection of highly-polished copy-book maxims. That life--that wonderful life--might be the supremest example of all that is or could be good and great and lovely in human experience; and yet, if He did not rise again from the tomb, it would, after all, be only a dead thing--like a splendid specimen of carved marble in some grand museum, exquisite to look upon, and of priceless value, but cold and cheerless, lifeless and dead. For it is a Living Person men need to be their Friend and Saviour and Guide. The splendid statue might possibly invite or challenge us to imitate it, but it could never call a human heart to love its stony features. Noble and pure as Jesus Christ's example undoubtedly was, it could of itself never satisfy a human soul or inspire poor, broken, human hearts with hope and love, or wash away from human consciousness the stains of sin. These things can only be done by a Living Person. So it is that we are not told to believe on His teaching or on His Church, but on _Him_. He did not say "Follow My methods or My disciples," but "_Follow_ ME." If He be not risen from the dead, and alive for evermore; if, in short, it be a dead man we are to follow and on whom we are to believe--then we are, indeed, as Paul says, "of all men the most miserable." I. But it is the life of Jesus, and the evidence of that life, in us that are really all-important. _No extent of worldly wisdom or historical testimony can finally establish for us the fact and power of Christ's Resurrection, unless we have proof in ourselves of His presence there as a Living Spirit_. With St. Paul, we must "know Him, and the power of His resurrection." That is the grand knowledge. That is the crown of all knowledge. That is the knowledge which places those who have received it beyond the freaks and fancies of human wisdom or human folly. That is the knowledge which cleanses the heart, destroys the strength of evil, and brings in that true righteousness which is the power to do right. That is the greatest proof of the Resurrection. No books, not even the Bible itself; no testimony, not even the testimony of those who were present on that first Easter Day, can be so good as this, the experimental proof. It is the most fitting and grateful, and adapts itself to every type of human experience. _And it is beyond contradiction_! What avail is it to contradict those who can answer, "Hereby we know that we dwell in Him, and He in us, because He hath given us of His Spirit"? It is even beyond argument! For of what advantage can it be to argue with a man that he is still blind, when he tells you that his eyes have been opened, and when he declares, "Whereas I _was_ blind, NOW I SEE"? To us Salvationists, the hope of the world, and the strength of our hard and long struggle for the souls of men, centre in this glorious truth. He is risen, and is alive for evermore; and because He lives we live also' All around us are the valleys of death, filled with bones--very many and very dry. Love lies there, dead. Hope is dead. Faith is dead. Honour is dead. Truth is dead. Purity is dead. Liberty is dead. Humility is dead. Fidelity is dead. Decency is dead. It is the blight of humanity. Death--moral and spiritual death in all her hideous and ghastly power--reigns around us. Men are indeed dead--"dead in trespasses and sins." What do we need? What is the secret longing of our hearts? What is the crying agony of our prayers? Is it for any human thing we seek? No. God knows--a thousand times, no! We have but one hope or desire, and that is "life from the dead." We want life, the risen life--life more abundant--life Divine, amid these deep, dark noisome valleys of the dead. Here, then, is our hope. He rose again, and ascended up on high, and received gifts for men. This is the hope which keeps us going on; this is the invisible spring from which our weary spirits draw the elixir of an invincible courage--Christ, the risen Christ, who has come to raise the dead! "You _hath_ He quickened who were dead in trespasses and sins." Hallelujah! "Dead in sins!" Jesus never made light of sin. He used no disguise when He talked of it, no equivocal terms, no softening words. There is no single suggestion in all His discourses or conversations that He thought it merely a disease, or a derangement, or a misfortune, or anything of that kind, or that He deemed it anything but a ruinous and deadly rebellion against God--the great disaster of the world, and the most awful, dangerous, and far-reaching precursor of suffering in the whole existence of the universe. He said it was bad, bad all through--in form, in expression, in purpose; above all, in spirit and desire. That there was no remedy for it but His remedy. No rains in all the heavens to wash it, no waters in all the seas to cleanse it away, no fires in Hell itself to purge its defilement. The only hope was in the blood of His sacrifice. And so He came to shed it, to save the people from their sins. That is our hope. We are of those who see something of the fruits of sin, and to whom it is no matter for the chastened lights of the literary drawing-room. We know--some of us--how deep the roots of pollution can strike into human character by our own scorched and blistered histories; and we know by our observation into what deeps of black defilement men can plunge. The charnel houses of iniquity must ever be the workshops of the Salvationist. There we see of the havoc, the cruelty, the debauchment, the paralysis, the leprosy, the infernal fascination of sin. And we know there is only one hope--the Lamb that was slain, and rose again from the dead, and ever liveth for our salvation. II. The only really satisfactory test of any faith, or system of faiths, lies in its treatment of sin. Human consciousness in all ages, and in all conditions of development, bears witness to the fact of sin with universal and overwhelming conviction. Men cannot prevent the discomfort of self-accusation which ever follows wrong-doing. They cannot escape from the bitter which always lies hidden in the sweet. They cannot forget the things they wish to forget. Even when they are a law unto themselves, they are compelled to judge themselves by that law. It is as though some unerring necessity is laid upon every individual of the race to sit in judgment upon his own conduct, and to pass sentence upon himself. He is compelled to speak to his own soul of things about which he would rather be silent, and to listen to that which he does not wish to hear. The proof that this is so is open, manifest, and indisputable. Human experience in the simplest and widest sense of the word attests it. It stands unquestioned amid floods of questions on every other conceivable subject. No system of philosophy, no school of scientific thought, no revelation from the heavens above or the earth beneath can really weaken it. It is not found in books, or received by human contact, or influenced by human example. It is revealed in every man. It is felt by all men. They do not learn it, or deduce it, or believe it merely. They know it. All men do. You do. I do. Many things contribute to this simple and yet supremely wonderful and awful fact of human experience. One of them is the faculty of thought. Man is made a thinking creature, and think he must; and if he thinks, he must, above all, think about himself, about his future, his present, his past. A great French writer--and not a Christian writer--says on this subject: "There is a spectacle grander than the ocean, and that is the conscience. After many conflicts, man yields to that mysterious power which says to him, 'Think.' One can no more prevent the mind from returning to an idea than the sea from returning to a shore. With the sailor this is called 'the tide.' With the guilty it is called 'remorse.' God, by a universal law, upheaves the soul as well as the ocean." And side by side with this thinking faculty, there is the further fact, that God will not leave men alone. On those unerring and resistless tides He sends into the human soul His messages. He visits them. He arouses them. He compels their attention. In His providence, by acts of mercy and of judgment--by sorrow and loss--by stricken days and bitter nights, He makes them remember their sin. All the weapons in His armoury, and all the wisdom of His nature are employed to bring men to a sense of guilt--to prick them to the heart--in order to lead them to recognise and to confess and to turn away from sin. If, therefore, man by any invention had found out a way by which he could escape from the consciousness of evil without putting it away, God would not let him go. Clearly, then, the initial proof of success in religion must be that religion can deal satisfactorily with the conscious guilt of sin. To this high test, all theories, all pretences, all promises must come at last. What are they in their actual effect on the memories and consciences of men in relation to their sin? How do they treat with guilt? How do they meet remorse? Can they silence the clamours of the night? Can they give peace when it is too late to undo what sin has done? Do they suffice amid the deepening shadows of the death chamber--the place where ever and anon the forgotten past comes forth to demand the satisfaction so long delayed? But these, after all, are only the fruits--some of the fruits of sin. What of the thing itself? That is the sternest test of all. The mere condemnation of sin, no matter how fully it harmonises with our sense of what ought to be, does not satisfy man. The excusing of sin is no better; it leaves the sinner who loves his sin, a sinner who loves it still. If excuses could silence conscience, or set free from the bondage of hate or passion, how many of the slaves of both would soon be at liberty! The re-naming of evil which has often been attempted during the last two or three thousand years, and again in quite recent days, has little or no effect either upon its nature or upon those who are under its mastery. The new label does not change the poison. Its victim is a victim still. Nor does the punishment of sin entirely dispose of it, either in the sufferer, or in the consciousness of the onlooker. No doubt the discovery and punishment of sin do give men a certain degree of satisfaction, but at best it is only a _relief_, when what they need, and what they see their fellows need, is a _remedy_. Sending a fever patient to hospital is a poor expedient unless we cure the disease. Sending a thief to prison is a poor affair if he remains a thief. It is not in reality a victory over thieving; it is, in fact, a defeat. Yes--it is a cure we need. And we know it. A cure which is not merely a remedy for the grosser forms which evil takes in men's lives, and their terrible consequences, but a cure of the hidden and secret humours from which they spring. The deceitfulness of the human heart. The thoughts and intents which colour all men do. The lusts and desires, the loves and hates from which conduct springs. The selfishness and rebellion which drive men on to the rocks. The real question for us then is, Can our religion--does our religion, when tried by the test of human experience--afford any remedy for these? Unless it does, man can no more be satisfied or be set free by condemnations, or excusings, or re-christenings, or punishments of sin, than the slave can be contented with discussions about his owner's mistakes or emancipated by new contrivances for painting his chains! III. But what is this sin, the consciousness of which is thus forced upon all--this determined, persistent, active evil? It is not the mere absence of good-a negative gain--but it is the love of, and the actual striving after that which is flatly condemned by God, and is in open rebellion against Him. The centreing of the corrupt heart upon its own corruption. Opposition to the pure will of God. Pride, falseness, unscrupulous ambition. Self-seeking, regardless of the means by which its object is obtained. Luxury, effeminacy, and sensuality. The lusts and fleshly passions. Malice, cruelty, and envy. The greed of gain. The love and thraldom of the world. There it is--the running sore of a suffering race. The outflow of the carnal mind, which is not subject to the law of God, neither indeed can be. There is no getting away from it. "Against this immovable barrier--the existence of sin--the waves of philosophy have dashed themselves unceasingly since the birth of human thought, and have retired broken and powerless, without displacing the minutest fragment of the stubborn rock, without softening one feature of its dark, rugged surface." And the worst of all is that sin is a wrong against God. _Man sins, of course, against himself._ That is written large on human affairs, so that no fool, however great a fool, may miss it. Well may the prophet say, "O Israel, thou hast destroyed thyself!" Men mix the hemlock for themselves! The sinner is a moral suicide! _Man sins against his fellow._ Nothing is more evident to us than that men tempt and corrupt one another. They hold one another back from righteousness. They break down virtue, and extinguish faith, and silence conscience in their neighbours. They act as decoys and trappers for each other's souls. They play the Devil's cat's-paws, and procure for him the rum of their fellows, which could not be compassed without their aid. In short, the sinner is a moral murderer! But, after all--and it is a hideous all--_the crowning wrong, and the crowning misery, is that sin is sin against God_. Unless the Bible be a myth, and the prophets a disagreeable fraud, and the whole lesson of Jesus Christ's life and death an illusion, God is deeply concerned with man. That concern extends to man's whole nature, his whole existence, his whole environment; and most of all it is manifest with regard to his sin. God puts Himself forward in the whole history of His dealings with men as an intimate, responsible, and observing Party in the presence of wrong-doing. He watches. He sees. He knows. He will consider. He will remember or He will forget. He will in no wise acquit the guilty, or He will pardon. Justice and vengeance are His, and so is forgiveness. He will weigh in the balances. He will testify against the evil-doer, or He will make an atonement for him. He will cut off and destroy, or He will have mercy. He will repay, or He will blot out. From beginning to end of Revelation--and there is something in the human soul which strangely responds to Revelation in this matter--we have a sense, a spiritual instinct, of the truth which Job set forth, "_If I sin, then Thou markest me, and Thou will not acquit me from mine iniquity_," which is confirmed by Jeremiah, "Though thou wash thee with nitre and take thee much soap, _yet thine iniquity is marked before Me, saith the Lord God_;" and which is insisted upon by the Apostle when he writes, "We must all appear before the judgment seat of Christ; that every one may receive the things done in his body, according to that he hath done, whether it be good or bad." Yes, it is against the Lord God men have sinned, and to Him they are accountable. And they know it. Here again is something which does not come by observation or instruction, but by an inward sense which can neither be mistaken nor long denied. Sooner or later, men are compelled to acknowledge God, and to acknowledge that they have sinned against Him. As with David, when he cried out, "Against Thee, Thee only, have I sinned, and done this evil in Thy sight"--so to every man comes at last the awakening. We see, as David saw, that whomsoever else we have wronged, _God_ is most wronged; whomsoever else we may have injured, the great evil is that we have broken _His_ law and violated _His_ will. In the light of that experience, sin becomes instantly a terrible and bitter thing. The fact that sinners can win the approval of men, the honour of success; that they can hide iniquity; that they can for a time escape from punishment, makes no difference when God appears upon the scene. Evil starts up for judgment. Memory marshals the ranks of transgression. Retribution seems the only right thing to look for. Punishment appears to be so deserved that nothing else can be possible. In their own eyes they are guilty. Guilt is branded upon them. It is from this realisation of having offended God that there spring the dark forebodings of punishment. Men may dread it, and be willing to make superhuman sacrifices to escape it, but they expect it all the same. Thus in all ages men have cried out less for pardon and release from penalty than for deliverance from the guilt and domination of evil. Their language by a universal instinct has been like David's: "Have mercy upon me, O God, according to Thy loving kindness: according unto the multitude of Thy tender mercies blot out my transgressions. Wash me throughly from mine iniquity, and cleanse me from my sin. For I acknowledge my transgressions: and my sin is ever before me. Against Thee, Thee only, have I sinned." XI. "Salvation Is of the Lord" "_Salvation is of the Lord_."--Jonah ii. 9. "_Work out your own salvation_."--Phil. ii. 12. Salvation is of the Lord, or not at all. It is a touch; a revelation; an inspiration; the life of God in the soul. It is not of man only, nor of that greatest of human forces--the will of man, but of God and the will of God. It is not mere will-work, a sort of "self-raising" power--it is a redemption brought home by a personal Redeemer; made visible, tangible, knowable to the soul redeemed in a definite transaction with the Lord. It brings forth its own fruits, carries with it the assurance of its own accomplishment, and is its own reward. It is impossible to declare too often or too plainly that Salvation is of the Lord. I. And yet, around us on every side are those who are relying upon something short of this new life. They have set up a sort of human virtue in the place of the God-life. They are slowly mastering their disordered passions. The base instigations of their lower nature are being thwarted. Greedy appetites which reign in others are in them compelled to serve. Tendencies to cunning and falsehood, the fruits of which are only too apparent in the world at large, they watch and harass and pinch. Animosities, and jealousies, and envies--those enemies of all kinds of peace--are repressed, if not controlled. And these followers of virtue go further than this. They aim at building up a character which can be called noble, or at least virtuous. And some succeed--or appear to themselves to do so. They cultivate truth. Honesty is with them, whether as to their business or their social life, the best policy. They are just. They are temperate. By nature and by training they are kind and generous; so much so that it is as difficult to convict them of an unkindly act as it is easy to prove them more generous and liberal than many of the professed followers of Jesus. Often they are charitable, giving of their substance to the poor; not hard to please, considerate of their inferiors, patient with one another; in a very high sense they have true charity. And after long periods of struggle, and lofty and faithful effort, they may be able to claim that they have developed a fine character; that by self-cultivation, and perhaps by a kind of self-redemption, they have produced a very beautiful and desirable being! I will not stay to inquire how far heart conceit and heart deceit may account for much of this, or to suggest that a great contrast may exist between the outer life and the unseen deeps within. I will admit for the moment that all is as stated, and even more. What, then? With much of grace and beauty, it may be; trained and tutored in the ways of humility and virtue; able to live in the constant and kindly service of others, and devoted to truth and duty--with all these excellencies they may yet be dead while they live. "That which is born of the flesh is flesh; and that which is born of the Spirit is spirit." Generous, lovable, dutiful, honourable flesh, but only flesh. A chaste, and, if you like to have it so, a useful life, but LIFELESS. A fine product of a lifetime of labour in the culture of the physical, intellectual, and moral powers, but, after all--DEAD. For "_He that believeth not on the Son of God hath not life_." II. In this view the body, and in a larger degree the mind, becomes a sepulchre for the soul. All the attention given to education, to refinement and culture, to the develop ment of gifts--for instance, such as music or inventive science--to the practice of self-restraint and the pursuit of morality, is so much attention to the casket that will perish, to the neglect of the eternal jewel that is enclosed. It may be possible to present a kindly, honest, law-abiding, agreeable life to our neighbours; to go through business and family life without rinding anything of great moment with which to condemn ourselves; to be thought, even by those nearest to us, to be living up to a high standard of morality, and yet--for all this has to do with the casket only--to be dead all the while in trespasses and sins. The young man who should spend his fortune upon his tomb would be scarcely so great a fool as he who spends his life on those things in himself which are temporal, to the neglect of those which are eternal. Only think of the absurdity of devoting the splendid energy of youth and manhood, the grand force of will, the skill of genius, and the other gifts which commonly men apply to their own advancement and success, to the adornment, enriching, and extension of one's _grave_! And yet this is very much the case of those of whom I am thinking. All their advances, whether in moral attainment, in personal achievement, or in worldly advantage, are, at the best, but enlargements and adornments of a tomb, and of a tomb destined itself to perish! III. Do I, then, discourage good works? Has man no part to play in his own deliverance? Is he, after all, only an animal--the mere creature of circumstance and natural law? Have I forgotten that "faith without works is dead"? No, I think not. I have but remembered that _works without faith are dead also_. The one extreme is as dangerous as the other. The legal, mechanical observance of the rules of a right life, apart from a living faith in Christ, can no more renew the heart in holiness and righteousness, than can a mere intellectual belief of certain facts about Christ, apart from working out His will, save the soul, or make it meet for the inheritance of the saints. In both cases the verdict will be the same. The faith in the one is "_dead_"; the works in the other are also "_dead_." The fact is, Salvation is a two-fold work. It is of God--it is of man. Did God not will man's Salvation he could not be saved. Unless man will his own Salvation he cannot be saved. God is free. Man also is free. He may set up a plan for saving himself; but, no matter how perfect, it will fail unless it have God for its centre. And God, though He has devised the most infinitely complete and beautiful and costly scheme of redemption for man, will none the less fail unless the individual man wills to co-operate with Him. Man is not a piece of clay which God can fashion as He likes. He is not even a harp out of which He can get what strains He will without regard to its strings. There is in man something--a force--an energy--which must act in union with God, and with which God must act in wonderful partnership, if His will is to be accomplished. IV. It is true, of course, that God does much for a man without his aid. I do not now refer to material blessings. He it is who gives us "life, and breath, and all things"--and gives them largely without our effort. But even in man God does much without his help. He calls. He stirs up conscience. He gives flashes of light to the most darkened heart. He softens by the hand of sorrow, and rebukes with the stripes of affliction. Memory, human affection, hope, ambition, are all made means by the Holy Ghost to urge men to holiness. The ministry of goodness in others is so directed as to point multitudes to the way of the Cross. But this will not provide the one thing needful. Instruction, clear views of the truth, belief in the facts of God's love and grace, admiration of Salvation in other lives, even the desire to declare the Gospel, may all be present, and yet the soul be--DEAD--dead in trespasses and sins--cursed, bound, and corrupted by dead works. Just as the noblest and highest efforts of man towards his own Salvation, _without the co-operating, life-giving work of God_, can result only in confusion and death; so the most powerful, gracious, long-suffering and tender yearnings and work of God for man's Salvation, _without the co-operating will of man_, can result only in distress, disappointment, and death. V. Are _you_ dead? Are _you_ in either of these classes? Are you relying on God's mercy; waiting for some strange visitation from on high; depending with a faith which is merely of the mind upon some past work of Christ; but without the vital power of His mighty life in you? Filled with desires that are not realised; offering prayers that are not answered; striving at times to work out a law of goodness which you feel all the time is an impossibility for you? Living, so to speak, out of your element--like a fish out of water? That is DEATH. Or are you, on the other hand, depending for Salvation on your own labour to build up a good character, and to live a decent, honourable, and honest life? Conscious of advance, but not of victory? The servant of a high ideal, but without _liberty_? The devotee of your own self? All the powers and qualities of your nature growing towards maturity, _except the powers of your soul_? The casket--as life goes on--growing more and more adorned, while the eternal spirit, the priceless jewel made to receive the likeness of God and enjoy Him for ever, seems ever of less and less worth to you? That also is DEATH. The man who is in either class is dead while he lives. He is a walking mortuary. XII. Self-Denial. "_If any man will come after Me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross, and follow Me_."--Matt. xvi. 24. It is a striking thought that self-denial is, perhaps, the only service that a man can render to God without the aid or co-operation of something or some one outside himself. No matter what he does--unless it be to _pray_, which would hardly be included in the idea of _service_--he is more or less dependent upon either the assistance or presence of others. If, for example, he speaks or sings for God, whether in public or in private, he must have hearers; if he writes, it is that he may have readers; if he teaches, he needs scholars; if he distributes gifts, there must be receivers of his charity; if he leads souls to Christ, these souls must be willing to come; if he suffers persecution, there must be persecutors; or if, like Stephen, he is called to die for his Lord, there must be those who stone him, and others who stand by consenting to his death. A few moments' consideration will, I think, also show, that even in the sphere of our personal spiritual experience, it is very much the same. We can, after all, do but little for ourselves. Salvation comes to men through human instrumentality, and seldom apart from it. We are, I know, saved by faith; but how shall we believe unless we hear? and how shall we hear without a preacher? That instruction on the things of God, which is a necessity for every true child of God, comes almost invariably by the agency or through the experiences of others. The joys and consolation of fellowship can only be the result of communion with the saints. In spiritual things, as in ordinary affairs, it is the countenance of his friend which quickens and brightens the tired toiler as "iron sharpeneth iron." And though it is true that God can, and often does, wonderfully teach and inspire His people without the direct aid of any human agent, it is equally true that He generally does so by the employment of His word, which He has revealed to men, or by the recalling of some message which has already been received into the mind and heart. Nor does this in the least detract from our absolute dependence upon Him. The man who crosses the Atlantic in a steamship is no less dependent on the sea because he employs the vessel for his journey. We are no less dependent upon the earth for our sustenance because we only partake of the wheat after it has been ground into flour and made into bread. And so, we are no less dependent upon God because He has been pleased to employ various humble and simple instruments to save, and teach, and guide us. After full allowance has been made for the power and influence of intervening agencies, it is in Him we really live, and move, and have our being. But I return to my first word. There is one kind of service open to all, irrespective of circumstances and gifts, which can be rendered to God without the intervention of anyone. And this we may truly call self-denial. Much that quite properly comes under that description need never--probably will never--be known to anyone but God. It may be a holy sacrament indeed, kept between the soul and its Lord alone. I. _There is the Denial of all that remains of Evil in us._ How many sincere souls, when they look into their own hearts, find, to their horror, evil in them where they least expected it; find them part stone, when they should be all flesh; find them bound to earth and the love of earthly things, when they should be free from the world and the love of the world; find them occupied, alas! so often with idols and heart-lusts, when God alone ought to rule and reign. Here is a sphere for self-denial. Here is a service to be rendered to God, which will be very acceptable to Him, and which you alone can perform. And if you would thus deny yourself, then examine yourself. Study the evils of your own nature. Recognise sin. Call it by its right name when you speak of it in the solitude of your own heart. If there are the remains of the deadly poison in you, say so to God, and keep on saying so with a holy importunity. "Confess your sins." Attack them as the farmer attacks the poison-plant amongst his crops, or the worms and flies which will blight his harvest, and which, unless he can ruin them, he knows full well will ruin him. That is the "_perfect self-denial_"--to cut off the right hand, and to pluck out and cast away what is dear as the right eye, if it offend against the law of purity and truth and love. _But you yourself are to do it_. Do not say you cannot, for you alone can. If you would be His disciple--His holy, loving, pure, worthy disciple--you must deny _yourself_. Cry to Him for help as much as you will--you cannot cry too often or too long--but you must do more than that: you must arise, and deny your own selfish nature; pinch, and harass, and refuse your own inward sins, and expose them to the light of God. Confess them without ceasing, mortify them without mercy, and slay them, and give no quarter. Say, and say in earnest:-- Oh, how I hate these lusts of mine That crucified my God!-- These sins that pierced and nailed His flesh Fast to the fatal wood. Yes, my Redeemer, they shall die-- My soul has so decreed; I will not longer spare the things That made my Saviour bleed. Whilst with a melting, broken heart, My murdered Lord I view, I'll raise revenge against my sins, And slay the murderers too. II. _There are Denials of the Will_. Human nature is a collection of likes and dislikes. The great mass of men are governed by their preferences. What they like, they strive after; what they do not like, they neglect, or refuse, or resist. Many of these preferences, though not harmful in themselves, lead continually to that subjection of the will to self-interest, and help that self-satisfaction and self-love which are the deadly enemies of the soul. Now, true self-denial is the denial, for Christ's sake and the sake of souls, of these preferences. To say to God: "I sacrifice my way for Thy way--my wish for Thy wish--my will for Thy will--my plan for Thy plan--my life for Thy life"--this is self-denial. Nothing can be more acceptable to a good father's heart than the knowledge that his son, living and labouring far away from him amid difficulties and opposition, is courageously sacrificing his own preferences, and faithfully seeking to carry out his, the father's, will. In such a son that father sees a reproduction of all that is strongest and best in his own nature. And so it is with the Heavenly Father. No greater joy can be His than to see the resolute surrender of His children's own will to His, and the daily denial of their hopes and plans for themselves and theirs in favour of His plans. III. _There are Denials of the Affections_. The precious things of earth-- The mother's tender care, The father's faith and prayer-- From Thee have birth. And, just because love is of such high origin, and is the greatest power in human life, it is often captured and held by the Devil as his last stronghold against God. The heart is at once the strongest and the most sensitive part of our nature; and it is here, therefore, that we often find the most blessed and profitable opportunities for self-denial. That pleasant companionship, so grateful, so fruitful of joy, and yet so likely to tempt me from the path of faithful service, "Lord, I deny myself of it." That mastering affection for wife, or husband, or children--so beautiful in its strength and simplicity, and yet so exacting in its claims--"Lord, I deny myself of the abandonment to which it invites me; I put it in its proper place, second to Thee, and to the work Thou hast given me to do." That love of home, and friends, and circle, which is so powerful a factor in life, and enters so constantly into all the arrangements and details of our conduct, influencing so largely all real plans for doing God's work--"Lord, I will deny it, when it is in danger of lessening my labours for Thee and Thy Kingdom." The pleasant hour, the quiet evening, the restful book, "I will lay them at Thy feet, for Thy sake, when they hinder me doing Thy will. It is between me and Thee alone; it is the sacrifice of love." How precious it must be to God to see such self-denial! When the true lover sees the woman he has chosen leaving all for his sake, calmly laying down the love of father and family, and even braving the rebuffs and unkindness of those from whom before she has known nothing but affection, in order that she may give him her whole heart and life, how strong become the cords which bind him to her! Every sacrifice she makes for his sake forges another bond which will not easily be broken. And is the Lord a man, that He should be behind us in loving with an everlasting love those who thus give up and deny their own loves for Him? No! a thousand times no! He will repay. Every self-denial is a seedling rich with future joys. For it is indeed true that "He that soweth to the Spirit, shall of the Spirit reap life everlasting. He that overcometh shall inherit all things, and I will give him the morning star." IV. _There are Denials with reference to our Gifts_. "Look not," says the Apostle, "every man on his own things, but every man also on the things of others." That is, even in the exercise of his choicest gifts and graces, let a man forget his own in his desire to employ and bring forward the gifts of others. "Let nothing be done through strife or vainglory, but in lowliness of mind let each esteem other better than themselves." That is, in your own mind take a humble view of yourself, your own powers, and your own worthiness, and hold your comrades in higher esteem than you hold yourself, in honour preferring one another to yourself. _That would be a very real self-denial to some people!_ "Recompense to no man evil for evil," though you know he well deserves it; "Avenge not yourselves." "If thine enemy hunger, feed him; if he thirst, give him drink." "Rejoice with them that do rejoice, and weep with them that weep." That is, deny yourself of your own joys, that you may enter into the sorrow of others; and lay aside your own sorrows and tears, and silence your own breaking heart, when you can help others by entering with joy into their joys. You will see, beloved, that all this is work which _no one can do for you_, and that it is in a very true sense high service to God as well as to man. How, then, is it with you? Are you a self-denying disciple? If not, beware, lest it should shortly appear that you are not a disciple at all. XIII. In Unexpected Places. "_And . . . while they communed together and reasoned, Jesus Himself drew near, and went with them. But their eyes were holden that they should not know Him_."--Luke xxiv. 15, 16. I. _The Knife-grinder_. The only person in the house, except the man and his wife, was a young domestic servant, a Soldier of The Salvation Army. Her employers were generally drinking when they were not asleep, and the drinking led to the most dreadful quarrelling. Disgusting orgies of one kind or another were of almost daily occurrence, and such, visitors as came to the house only added fuel to the fiery furnace of passion and frenzy through which the girl was called to walk. Since that happy Sunday afternoon two years ago, when she gave herself to God in the wholesome village from which she came, the meetings and the opportunity, given her by The Army, of doing some work for other souls had been a bright light in her life. Little by little religion had come to have for her something of the same meaning it had for St. Paul: though I fear she knew very little of St. Paul, or of the great and wise things he wrote--domestic service is seldom favourable to the study of the Scriptures. But the same spirit which led the great Apostle to confer not with flesh and blood, and which took him into Arabia before he went to Jerusalem, was leading this quiet, country maiden to see that to be a follower of Christ means something more than to win a fleeting happiness in this life and a kind of pension in the next. She was beginning to understand that to be really Christ's means also to be a Christ; that to be His, one must seek for the lost sheep for whom He died. And so Rhoda--I call her Rhoda, though that was not her name--when she found to what sort of people she had, in her ignorance of the great city, engaged herself, had set to work to seek their salvation. Many very good people would probably think that she would have been a wiser girl to have gone elsewhere--that the risks of such a position were very great, and so on. No doubt; but the light of a great truth was rising in Rhoda's heart and mind. She perceived in her very danger an opportunity to prove her love for her Saviour by risking something for the souls of those two besotted creatures, for whom she dared to think He really died. And so, day after day, she toiled for them: night after night she prayed for them. And in her sober moments the wreck of a woman, her mistress, wept aloud in her slobbering way, and talked of the days long, long ago, when she, too, believed in the things that are good. The first flush of novelty in the sense of doing an unselfish thing for God wore away, and presently Rhoda's real trial began. The drinking and fighting grew worse, and the difficulty of getting out to a meeting grew greater. Gradually the weary body robbed the struggling soul of its time to pray; and, worst of all, by slow degrees Rhoda's faith was shaken, for her prayers, her agonising prayers, on behalf of those dark souls were only too manifestly not answered. Was it worth while, after all, troubling about sinners? Was it her affair? Why should she care? Of what use could it be to become an Officer, in order to seek the many, if God did not hearken to her cry for the few? One day the Captain of the Corps to which Rhoda belonged called, and seemed grieved with her for neglecting the meetings. This was a heavy blow. She could not or would not explain, and when that night, in the midst of a drunken brawl, her master struck her in the face, heart and flesh both failed, and she determined to say no more about salvation, and to abandon all profession of religion. That night seemed long and dark, and when at last sleep came, the pillow was wet with tears of anguish, of anger, and of pride. "Scissors to mend! to mend! to mend!" The monotonous calls of London hawkers are a strange mixture of sounds--at one moment attractive, at another repelling; they are, perhaps, more like the cry of a bird in distress than anything else. Rhoda looked at her wood-chopper as the knife-grinder came nearer to the house, and as he passed beckoned him, and gave it to him. She made no remark. He was rough and grimy, and his torn coat gave him an appearance of misery, which his face rather belied. She was miserable enough, and made no reply to his cheery "Good morning!" Presently the axe was sharpened, and the man brought it to the door. She paid him. "Thank you," he said. And then, with kindly abruptness--"Excuse me, but I see you have been crying. Do you ever pray?" And, after a silence, "God answers prayer, though He may not do it our way. _He did it for me._ I was a drunkard, but my mother's prayers are answered now, and I belong to The Salvation Army. Do you know any of them? Oh, they just live by prayer!" Rhoda stood in silence listening to the strange man till she ceased to hear him, and looking at him till she ceased to see him! Another Presence and another Voice was there. _It was the Christ_. Rhoda was delivered. She is still fighting for souls, and loves most to do it where Satan's seat is. But the knife-grinder never knew. II. _A Kiss_. The heat and smell in the narrow slum were worse than usual. A hot Saturday night in midsummer is a bad time in the slums, and worse in the slum public-houses. It was so on the night I speak of. In and out of the suffocating bar the dirty stream of humanity came and went. Men who had ceased long ago to be anything but beasts; women with tiny, white children in their bony arms; boys and girls sipping the naphtha of perdition, and talking the talk of fools; lewd and foul-mouthed women of the streets, all hustled and jostled one another, and sang, and swore, and bandied horrid words with the barmen--and, all the while, they drank, and drank, and drank! The atmosphere grew thicker and thicker with the dust and tobacco-smoke, and little by little the flaming gas-jets burnt up the oxygen, till by midnight the place was all but unendurable. Among the last to go was a woman of the town, who betook herself, with a bottle of whisky, to a low lodging-house hard by. There she drank and quarrelled with such vehemence that in the early hours of the morning the "Deputy"--as the guardian of order is called in these houses--picked her up and threw her into the gutter outside. There, amid the garbage from the coster-mongers' barrows and the refuse of the town, this remnant of a ruined woman lay in a half-drunken doze, until the golden sunlight mounted over the city houses and pierced the sultry gloom on the Sabbath morning. Another woman chanced that way. Young, beautiful alike in form and spirit, and touched with the far-offness of many who walk with Christ, she hastened to the early Sunday morning service, there to join her prayers with others seeking strength to win the souls of men. "What is that?" she asked her friend as they passed. "That," replied the other, "is a drunken woman, unclean and outcast." In a moment the Salvationist knelt upon the stones, and kissed the battered face of the poor wanderer. "Who is that--what did you do?" said the Magdalene. "Why did you kiss me? _Nobody ever kissed me since my mother died_." _It was the Christ_. That kiss won a heart to Him. III. _A Promotion_. Henry James was coming rapidly into his employer's favour. Thoughtful, obliging, attentive to details, anxious to please, and, above all, thoroughly reliable in word and deed, he was a first-class servant and an exemplary Salvationist. In the Corps to which he belonged he stood high in the esteem both of the Local Officers and the Soldiers, and there was no more welcome speaker in the Open-air or more successful "fisher" in the sinners' meetings than "Young James." The question of his own future was beginning to occupy a good deal of attention. Ought he to offer himself for Officership in The Army? He was very far from decided either one way or the other, when one evening at the close of business his master sent for him. He expressed his pleasure at the progress James was making, and offered him a greatly improved position--the managership of a branch establishment, with certain privileges as to hours, an immediate and considerable advance in salary, and the prospect of a still more profitable position in the future. There was really only one condition required of him--he must live in premises adjoining the new venture, and he must not come to and fro in the uniform of The Army. His employers had a high esteem for The Salvation Army. It was a noble work, and their opinion of it had risen since they had employed one or two of its Soldiers. But business was business, and the uniform going in and out would not help business, and so forbh. The young man hesitated, and, to the senior partner's surprise, asked for a week to consider. During the week there were consultations with almost every one he knew. The majority of his own friends said decidedly "Accept." A few Salvationists of the weaker sort said, "Yes, take it; you will, in the end, be able to do more for God, and give The Army more time, more money, more influence." On the other hand, the Captain and the older Local Officers answered, "No; it is a compromise of principle; the uniform is only the symbol of out-and-out testimony for Christ; you put it on in holy covenant with Him; you cannot take it off, especially for your own advantage, without breaking that covenant. Don't!" James promised himself--quite sincerely, no doubt--that it should not be so with him. And on the appointed day informed the firm that he accepted their proposal. The new enterprise was a success. Everything turned out better than was expected. At the end of six months the new manager received a cordial letter of thanks from the firm, and a hint of further developments. But Henry James was an unhappy man. He had gained so much that he was always asking himself how it came about that he seemed to have lost so much more! Position, prospects, opportunity, money--these were all enhanced. And yet he went everywhere with a sense of loss, burdened with a consciousness of having parted with more than he had received in return. As a man of business, the impression at last took the form of a business estimate in his mind. Yes, that was it; he had secured a high--a very high--price that evening in the counting-house, when the partners waited for his answer; he had parted with something; he had, in fact, sold something. _It was the Christ_. It proved a ruinous transaction. XIV. Ever the Same. A New Year's Greeting. _"Blessed be the name of God for ever and ever: for wisdom and might are His: and He changeth the times and the seasons."_--Daniel ii. 20, 21. _"I am the Lord, I change not."_--Malachi iii. 6. "He changeth the times and the seasons." What a beautiful thought it is! Instead of the hard compulsion of some inexorable and unchanging law fixing summer where it must, and planting winter in our midst whether it be well or ill, here is the sweet assurance that the seasons change at His command; and that the winds and the waves obey Him. It is not some abstract and unknowable force, taking no account of us and ours, with whom we have to do, but a living and ruling Father: He who maketh small the drops of water that pour down rain; He who shuts up the sea with doors, and says: "Here shall thy proud waves be stayed"; He who maketh the south winds to blow, and by whose breath the frost is given; He who teaches the swallow to know the time of her coming, and has made both summer and winter, and the day and the night His servants--He is our Father. How precious it is to feel that our times are in His hands; and to know that, whether the year be young or old, He will fill it with mercy and crown it with loving-kindness! Do not be deceived by the modern talk about the laws of Nature into forgetting that they are the laws ordained by your Father for the fulfilment of His will. Every day that dawns is as truly God's day as was the first one. Every night that draws its sable mantle over a silent world sets a seal to the knowledge of God who maketh the darkness. Behind the mighty forces and the ceaseless activities around us stands the Sovereign of them all. The hand of Him who never slumbers is on the levers. The earth is the Lord's, and His chosen portion is His people; and when "He changes the times and the seasons," He fits the one to the other. It is with some such thoughts as these that I send out a brief New Year's Greeting to my friends. I wish them a Happy New Year, because I feel that God has sent it, that He wills it to be a happy year--a good year: that in all the changes it may bring, He will be planning with highest benevolence for their truest welfare. Whether, therefore, it holds for them sorrow or joy, it will be a year of mercy, a year of grace, a year of love. "Blessed be God for ever and ever, for wisdom and might are His. He revealeth the deep and secret things. He knoweth what is in the darkness, and the light dwelleth with Him." Let us, then, go forward, and fear not. I. _Material Changes._ All things that touch the life of man are marked for change. As knowledge advances, and men come nearer to the secrets of the world in which they live, they find how true indeed it is, that man is but "a shadow dwelling in a world of shadows." Everything is changing--everything but God. The sun, the astronomers tell us, is burning itself away. "The mountains," say the geologists, "are not so high as they once were; their lofty summits are sliding down their sides year by year. The everlasting hills are only everlasting in a figure; for they, too, are crumbling day by day. The hardest rocks are softening into soil every season, and we are actually eating them up in our daily bread." The hills are shadows, and they flow From form to form, and nothing stands; They melt like mists, the solid lands, Like clouds they shape themselves and go. The great ocean-currents are changing, and vast regions of the earth's surface are being changed with them, and Time is writing wrinkles on the whole world and all that is therein. But, above it all, I see One standing--my Unchanging God. "Thou, Lord, in the beginning hast laid the foundations of the earth, and the heavens are the works of Thine hands; they shall perish, but Thou remainest; and they all shall wax old as doth a garment, and as a vesture shalt Thou fold them up, and they shall be changed; but Thou art the same, and Thy years shall not fail." What a contrast there is between the Worker and His work, between the Creator and the creature! We see it in a thousand things; but in none is it so manifest for the wayfaring man, or written so large upon the fading draperies of time, as in this: "_They shall perish, but Thou remainest_." And greater changes yet seem to lie ahead. A universal instinct points to the time of the restitution of all things. "The whole creation groaneth and travaileth in pain together, waiting"--and it has been a long, weary waiting--"for deliverance." But the day of the Lord will come. "As the lightning cometh out of the east, and shineth even unto the west, so shall the coming of the Son of Man be." In his vision John saw, as it were, a picture of that final change. "Lo," he says, "there was a great earthquake, and the sun became black as sack-cloth of hair"--it looks as though the wise men who say it will burn itself out are right!--"and the moon became as blood; and the stars of heaven fell unto the earth, even as a fig tree casteth her untimely figs, when she is shaken of a mighty wind. And the heaven departed as a scroll when it is rolled together; and every mountain and island were moved out of their places." What a combination of astounding catastrophes is here! Earth and stars are to meet in awful shock! Sun and moon to fail! Cloud and sky to disappear; the elements to melt with fervent heat--a world on fire! But, above it all, the Lamb that was slain will take His place upon the Throne--unmoved, unchanged, amidst the tumult of dissolving worlds. My God, my Saviour, in Thy unchanging love I put my trust:-- Jesus, Thy blood and righteousness My beauty are, my glorious dress; 'Midst flaming worlds, in these arrayed, With joy shall I lift up my head. II. _Changes of Association_. But far-reaching as are the changes in our material surroundings, those with which we have to battle in our personal associations are often as great, and are often much more painful. Indeed, man himself is the most changeable thing in all man's world. It is not merely that our companions and friends and loved ones die--the wind passeth over them, and they are gone, and the dear places that knew them know them no more--it is not merely this; nor is it that their circumstances change, that wealth becomes penury, that health is changed to weakness and suffering, and youth to age and decay--it is not merely this, but it is that _they_ change. The ardour of near friendship grows cold and fades away; the trust which once knew no limitations is narrowed down, and, by and by, walled in with doubts and fears; the comradeship which was so sweet and strong, and quickened us to great deeds, as "iron sharpeneth iron," is changed for other companionships; the love which seemed so deep and true, and was ready "to look on tempests" for us, becomes but a name and a memory, even if it does not change into a well of bitter waters in our lives. This fact of human mutability, this inherent changeableness in man, is the key to many of the darkest chapters of the world's history. The prodigal, the traitor, the vow-breaker, these have ever been far more fruitful sources of anguish and misery than the life-long rebel and law-breaker. The Psalmist touches the inner springs of sorrow when he says, "All that hate Me whisper together against Me; yea, Mine own familiar friend, in whom I trusted, which did eat of My bread, hath lifted up his heel against Me." No one who has once read it can forget that revelation of the pent-up shame and agony in David's heart, which was voiced in his cry, "O my son Absalom, my son, my son Absalom! would God I had died for thee, O Absalom, my son, my son!" The human heart probably fell to its lowest depth of ingratitude and sin when poor Judas changed sides and sold his Lord. What a change it was! Alas, alas, what a quagmire of uncertainties and shifting sand unsanctified human nature must be! Nay, _is_. I suppose that few of us have escaped some sorrowful experiences of this kind. Even to those who have not tasted the fruits of human fickleness in the great affairs of Christ's Kingdom, there has generally come some share of it into the more private relationships of life. In the home, in the family, or in the circle of friendship or comradeship, we have had to lament the failure of many tender hopes. But, blessed be the name of our God, who knoweth what is in the darkness, amidst the changing scenes we have found one Comfort. Above the strife of tongues, and over the stormy seas of sorrow, when, as Job said, even our kinsfolk have failed, and our familiar friends have forgotten us, there is borne to us the voice of One who sticketh closer than a brother, saying, "I am the Lord; I change not. With Me there is no variableness, neither the shadow of turning. I will never leave thee nor forsake thee." The more men change, the surer God will be; the more they forget, the more He will remember; the further they withdraw, the nearer He will come. III. _Personal Changes_. And we, ourselves, change also. As the years fly past, the most notable fact about us, perhaps, is the changes that are going on in our own experiences, our habits, our thoughts, our hopes, our conduct, our character. How much there was about us, only a few years ago, which has changed in the interval--nay, how much has grown different even since last New Year's Day! Indeed, might we not say of a great deal in us, which to-day is, that to-morrow it will be cast away for ever? Have you, my friend, not had to mourn over some strange changes? Has not your joy been often so quickly turned to sorrow that you have wondered how you yourself could be the same person? Has not some trifling circumstance often seemed to cloud your sky for days, darkening all the great lights in your heaven, so that your whole past, and present, and future have seemed different to you, and you stood in the stupor of astonishment at the gloomy change? Has not your zeal for souls been subject to like strange and unaccountable changes, so that the work you once thought impossible you have found easy; or the work you once delighted in, you now find hard, difficult, and barren? Has not your freedom in prayer, and your desire for it, wavered between this and that until you have not known what to think of yourself? Has not your perception of duty, and your devotion to it, at one time clear and strong, become at another so dim and feeble, that you have been utterly ashamed of your wobbling and cowardice, and amazed at your failure? And, most sorrowful of all, has not your love for your God and Saviour been up and down--shamefully down--so that when you have afterwards reflected on your coldness towards Him and His cause, you have been covered with confusion and astonishment at the fickleness of your own heart? And more than this. How great are the changes wrought in us by the curbing influence of time! How much that in youth and early manhood we meant to do, and could do, and did do, has to be laid down, or left to others, as our years approach the limits of their pilgrimage! I have known some men who, for this reason alone, did not desire to live beyond the years of strength and vigour--they preferred "to cease at once to work and live." The loss by death, or disappointments worse than death, of our friends and dear ones--what changes this also works! Unconsciously men narrow the sphere of their sympathies. The mainspring of life--love--grows slowly rusty for want of use, and from some hearts that were once true fountains of joy to those around them, the living water almost ceases to flow. Criticism, and fault-finding, and censoriousness too often take the place of generous labour for the welfare of the world. This may, no doubt, arise in part from the natural desire that others should profit by our past experiences, which renders us the more observant of their conduct the more we love. But, no matter what the cause, certain it is that within and without all seems to change. Is it not, then, a joy unspeakable that, amidst all this, whether we are or are not fully alive to the weakness, and variableness, and deceitfulness of our own hearts, we can look up to the ROCK that changeth NOT? In the darkest hour of disappointment with ourselves; in the depths of that miserable aftermath of sorrow and failure which follows all pride and foolish self-assertion; in the miry pit of condemnation and guilt in which sin always leaves the sinner, we can look up to Him whose power, whose grace, whose love is ever the same. Do you really believe it? There is a great hope in it for you if you do. High above all your changes, high above all the storms and disappointments that belong to them; high above all the wretched failure and doubting of the "do-the-best-I-can" life you are living, He lives to bless, to save, to uplift, to keep. Unnumbered multitudes, fighting their way to Him in spite of the timidities and wobblings, the "couldn'ts" and "wouldn'ts" of their own nature, have proved Him the Faithful and Unchanging God. Will not you? 
5954	----	RELIGIOUS REALITY A BOOK FOR MEN A. E. J. RAWLINSON Student of Christ Church, Oxford; Examining Chaplain to the Bishop of Lichfield; Priest-In-Charge of St. John The Evangelist, Wilton Road, S.W.; Formerly Tutor of Keble College and Late Chaplain to the Forces. WITH A PREFACE BY THE BISHOP OF LICHFIELD 1918 PREFACE BY THE BISHOP OF LICHFIELD This is a book which is wanted. Thoughtful men, in every class, are not afraid of theology, _i.e._ of a reasoned account of their religion, but they want a theology which can be stated without conventions and technicalities; they do not at all care for a religion which pretends to do away with all mystery, but they are glad to be assured of the essential reasonableness of the Christian Faith; they do not expect a ready-made solution of the problem of evil, but they wish to see it honestly faced; above all, they want to know how Christian truth bears on the real problems of life; the best of them are not at all afraid of a religion which makes big demands on them, but they know well enough the difficulty of responding to those claims, and their greatest need of all is to find and to use that life and power, coming from a living Person, without which our best aspirations must fail and our highest ideals remain unrealized. These needs seem to me to be satisfactorily and happily met in the following pages. My friend and chaplain, Mr. Rawlinson, has had good means of knowing what men are and what they want. He has had to do with the undergraduate, with officers and men in the Army, and with the ordinary civilian in parish life. He has been able to see the nature and needs of our British manhood at different angles, and he is the sort of man with whom men are not afraid to talk. He has had good opportunity of diagnosing the situation, and this book shows his skill in dealing with it. I do not find myself in agreement with everything in these pages, but when I am conscious of difference of view, I am no less grateful for the stimulus to thought. I am specially thankful that the writer has been so courageous in tackling the most difficult subjects. I know that the author's one desire is to help men to be more real in their religion. I share his hope, and I believe that this book will do much to accomplish it. AUTHOR'S PREFACE This book has grown out of the writer's experience in preparing men and officers in military hospitals for Confirmation. It represents, in a considerably expanded but--as it is hoped--still simple form, the kind of things which he would have wished to say to them, and to others with whom he was brought into contact, if he had had more time and opportunity than was usually afforded him. It seemed necessary to write the book, because there did not appear to be in existence any reasonably short book on similar lines which covered the ground of Christian faith and practice as a whole, and which approached the subject from the point of view which seems to the writer to be the most real. The writer is consciously indebted in the first chapter to the discussion of our Lord's teaching and character in Dr. T. B. Glover's fascinating book, _The Jesus of History_. It is possible that there are other and unconscious obligations which have been overlooked. Here and there acknowledgment is made in footnotes, and an occasional phrase, "lifted" from some other writer, has been placed in inverted commas. In Chapter VIII. of Part I. the author has echoed the thought, and to a certain extent the wording, of parts of his own essay on "The Principle of Authority" in _Foundations_. For help in the correction of the proofs, and for criticisms and suggestions which have led to numerous modifications and improvements in matters of detail, the thanks of the writer are due to various friends, and more particularly to his brother, Lieutenant A. C. Rawlinson, of the Queen's Own Oxfordshire Hussars; to the Rev. Austin Thompson, Vicar of S. Peter's, Eaton Square; and to the Rev. Leonard Hodgson, Vice-Principal of S. Edmund Hall, Oxford. _November_, 1917. CONTENTS PREFACE BY THE BISHOP OF LICHFIELD INTRODUCTION PART I THE THEORY OF THE CHRISTIAN RELIGION CHAP. I. THE MAN CHRIST JESUS II. THE REVELATION OF THE FATHER III. THE FELLOWSHIP OF THE SPIRIT IV. THE HOLY TRINITY V. THE PROBLEM OF EVIL VI. SIN AND REDEMPTION VII. THE CHURCH AND HER MISSION IN THE WORLD VIII. PROTESTANT AND CATHOLIC IX. SACRAMENTS X. THE LAST THINGS XI. CLERGY AND LAITY XII. THE BIBLE PART II THE PRACTICE OF THE CHRISTIAN RELIGION I. THE CHRISTIAN AIM II. THE WAY OF THE WORLD III. THE SPIRIT AND THE FLESH IV. THE WORKS OF THE DEVIL V. THE KINGDOM OF GOD VI. CHRISTIANITY AND COMMERCE VII. CHRISTIANITY AND INDUSTRY VIII. CHRISTIANITY AND POLITICS IX. CHRISTIANITY AND WAR X. LOVE, COURTSHIP, AND MARRIAGE PART III THE MAINTENANCE OF THE CHRISTIAN LIFE I. HOW TO BEGIN II. PRAYER III. SELF-EXAMINATION AND REPENTANCE IV. CORPORATE WORSHIP AND COMMUNION V. THE DEVOTIONAL USE OF THE BIBLE VI. ALMSGIVING AND FASTING INTRODUCTION Vital religion begins for a man when lie first discovers the reality of the living GOD. Most men indeed profess a belief in GOD, a vague acknowledgment of the existence of "One above": but the belief counts for little in their lives. GOD, if He exists at all, must obviously be important: and it is conceivable that He prefers the dogmatic atheism of a man here and a man there, or the serious agnosticism of a slightly larger number, to the practical indifference of the majority. "There are two attitudes, and only two, which are worthy of a serious man: to serve GOD with his whole heart, because he knows Him; or to seek GOD with his whole heart, because he knows Him not." The ordinary Englishman is in most cases nominally a Christian. As a rule he has been admitted in infancy by baptism into the Christian Church. But he is ignorant of the implications of his baptism, and indifferent to the claims of a religion which he fails to understand. These pages are written with the object of explaining what, in the writer's judgment, the faith and practice of the Christian Church really is. PART I THE THEORY OF THE CHRISTIAN RELIGION CHAPTER I THE MAN CHRIST JESUS It is best to begin with a study of the teaching and character of Christ. Scholars for about a hundred years have been studying the Gospels historically, "like any other books." It is now reasonably certain that the first three Gospels--those which we know as the Gospels according to S. Matthew, S. Mark, and S. Luke--though not, of course, infallible or accurate in their every detail, reflect nevertheless in a general way a trustworthy portrait of Jesus as He actually lived. The sayings ascribed to Christ in their pages bear the marks of originality. The outline of the events which they describe may be taken as being in rough correspondence with the facts. The Gospels as a whole represent pretty faithfully the impression made by the life and character of Jesus upon the minds and memories of those who knew Him best. We are very apt to regard the Gospels conventionally. An inherited orthodoxy which has made peace with the world takes them for granted as "a tale of little meaning, though the words are strong." An impatient reaction from orthodoxy sets them aside as incomprehensible or unimportant. It is worth while making the effort to empty our minds of prejudice, and to allow the Gospels to tell their own tale. We shall find that they bring us face to face with a Portrait of surprising freshness and power. It is the portrait of One who spent the first thirty years of His life in an obscure Galilaean village, and who in early manhood worked as a carpenter in a village shop. He first came forward in public in connexion with a religious revival initiated by John the Baptist. He was baptized in the Jordan. What His baptism meant to Him is symbolized by the account of a vision which He saw, and a Voice which designated Him as Son of GOD. He became conscious of a religious mission, and was at first tempted to interpret His mission in an unworthy way, to seek to promote spiritual ends by temporal compromises, or to impress men's minds by an appeal to mystery or miracle. He rejected the temptation, and proclaimed simply GOD and His Kingdom. He is said to have healed the sick and to have wrought other "signs and mighty works": but He set no great store by these things, and did not wish to be known primarily as a wonder-worker. He lived the life of an itinerating Teacher, declaring to any who cared to listen the things concerning the Kingdom of GOD. At times He was popular and attracted crowds: but He cared little for popularity, wrapped up His teaching in parables, and repelled by His "hard sayings" all but a minority of earnest souls. He gave offence to the conventionalists and the religiously orthodox by the freedom with which He criticized established beliefs and usages, by His championship of social outcasts, and by His association with persons of disreputable life. Unlike John the Baptist, He was neither a teetotaller nor a puritan. He was not a rigid Sabbatarian. He despised humbug, hypocrisy, and cant: and He hated meanness and cruelty. He could be stern with a terrible sternness. His gaze pierced through all disguises, and He understood the things that are in the heart of man. He saw things naked. He has been called "the great Son of Fact." He was never under any illusions. He faced the hostility of public opinion with unflinching courage. He expected to be crucified, and crucified He was. He warned those who followed Him to expect a similar fate. He claimed from men an allegiance that should be absolute: the ties of home and kindred, of wealth or position in the world, were to be held of no account: anything which stood in the way of entire discipleship to Himself, however compelling its immediate claim, was to be sacrificed without hesitation for His sake. He saw nothing inconsistent between this concentration of men's allegiance upon His own person, and His insistence upon GOD as the one great Reality that mattered. The motive of His whole life was consecration to the will of GOD. He was rich towards GOD, where other men are poor. The words were true of Him, as of no one else, "I have set GOD always before me." His mission among men He fulfilled as a work which His Father had given Him to do. "Lo, I come to do Thy will, O GOD." He loved men, and went about doing good, because He knew that GOD loved men, and meant well by them, and desired good for them, and not evil. He was pitiful, because GOD is pitiful. He hated evil, because GOD hates it. He loved purity, because GOD is pure. He delighted in friendships both with men and women: but you could not imagine anything unclean in His friendships. He was not married, but He looked upon marriage as an utterly pure and holy thing, taught that a man should leave father and mother and cleave unto his wife so that they twain should be one flesh, and recognized no possibility of divorce except--and even this is not quite certain--on the ground of marital unfaithfulness. He had one and the same standard of purity for men and women. He loved children, the birds and the flowers, the life of the open air: but He was equally at home in the life of the town. He went out to dinner with anybody who asked Him: He rejoiced in the simple hilarity of a wedding feast. He was a believer in fellowship, and in human brotherhood. He was everybody's friend, and looked upon no one as beyond the pale. He loved sinners and welcomed them, without in the least condoning what was wrong. He looked upon the open and acknowledged sinner as a more hopeful person from the religious point of view than the person who was self-satisfied and smug. He said that He came to seek and to save those who knew themselves to be lost. He chose twelve men to be in an especial sense His disciples--learners in His school. To them He sought to reveal something of His deeper mind. He tried to make them understand that true royalty consists in service; that if a man would be spiritually great he should choose for himself the lowest room, and become the servant of all; that the privilege of sitting on His right hand and on His left in His Kingdom was reserved for those for whom it was prepared by His Father; the important thing was whether a man was prepared to drink His cup of suffering, and be baptized with His baptism of blood. But He did speak of Himself as King, He accepted the designation of Himself as the Christ of GOD, and spoke strange words about His coming upon the clouds of heaven to judgment. He held that by their relation to Himself and to His ideals the lives of all men should be tested, and the verdict passed upon their deeds. For making these and similar claims He was convicted of blasphemy and put to death. His disciples failed to understand Him. The Gospels are full of the contrast between their minds and His. Of the chosen Twelve who, as He said, had continued with Him in His trials and to whom He promised that they should eat and drink at His table in His Kingdom, and sit on thrones judging the twelve tribes of Israel, one betrayed and one denied Him when the time of crisis came, and the rest forsook Him and fled. The fact that their faith and loyalty were subsequently re- established--that the execution which took place on Calvary was not the complete and summary ending of the whole Christian movement--that, in the days that followed, the recreant disciples became the confident Apostles, requires for its explanation the assertion in some form of the truth of the Resurrection. With regard to the precise form which the Resurrection took there may be room for differences of opinion: the accounts of the risen Jesus in the various Gospel records cannot be completely harmonized, and the story may here and there have been modified in the telling. The fact remains that apart from the assumption as a matter of historical truth that Jesus was veritably alive from the dead, and that He showed Himself alive to His disciples by evidences which were adequate to carry conviction to their incredulous minds, the origins of historical Christianity cannot really be explained. In the Gospel according to S. John it is stated that the crowds said of Jesus, "This is of a truth that Prophet that should come into the world": and so much, at the least, the average Englishman is ready to admit: for to call Jesus Christ a Prophet--even to call Him the supreme Prophet--is to claim for Him no more than a good Mohammedan claims for Mohammed. The word "prophet" in itself means one who speaks on behalf of another: and a prophet is defined to be a spokesman on behalf of GOD. He is essentially a man with a message. In so far as he is a true prophet he is one who by an imperious inner necessity is constrained to declare to his fellows a word which has come to him from the Lord. And the prophet's word is urgent: it brooks no delay. It is impatient of conventionalisms and shams. It breaks through the established order of things in matters both social and religious. It is dynamic, vivid, revolutionary. It goes to the root of things, with a startling directness, a kind of explosive force. It disturbs and shatters the customary placidities of men's lives. It forces them to face spiritual realities, to look the truth in the face. All this is true in a pre-eminent degree of the words of Christ. There is a force and directness, an energy and intensity about His teaching, which is without parallel in the history of the world. It might have been thought impossible for His utterances, in any age or under any circumstances, to become conventionalized: but the miracle has been achieved. Christianity is to the average Englishman an established convention and nothing more. "Blessed are the poor in spirit," said Jesus: but _we_ say rather, "Blessed are the rich in substance." "Blessed are they that mourn": but that is not the general opinion. "Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth"--but who amongst us really believes it? "Blessed are they that hunger and thirst after righteousness: for they shall be filled." "Blessed are the merciful: for they shall obtain mercy": but to-day a more popular maxim is, "Be not merciful unto them that offend of malicious wickedness." "Blessed are the pure in heart"--and how many of us are that? "Blessed are the peace-makers": but in a time of war they are not very favourably regarded. "Blessed are they that are persecuted for righteousness' sake"--is that _your_ ambition, or mine? "Ye are the salt of the earth" and "the light of the world"--then the earth, it is to be feared, is a somewhat insipid place, and its light comparable to darkness visible. "If any man will come after Me, let him take up his Cross, and follow Me": but most of us make it a tacit condition of our Christianity that we shall _not_ be crucified. Is it not true that we habitually refuse to take seriously His teaching about man; that we water down His paradoxes and conventionalize His sayings; that we blunt the sharpness of His precepts, and shirk the tremendous sternness of His demands? And does His teaching about GOD fare any better? GOD was to Jesus Christ the one Reality that mattered; is that in any serious sense true of us? GOD, He taught, cares for the sparrows, numbers the hairs of our heads, sees in secret, and reads our inmost hearts. GOD knows all about us, loves us individually, thinks out our life in all its relations, and makes provision accordingly. There is nothing which He cannot or will not do for His children. He is near and not far off: He is also on the throne of all things-- the Universe is in our Father's hand, and His will directs it. "O ye of little faith, wherefore did ye doubt?" Fear, on the ground that things are stormy, is a thing Christ simply cannot understand. GOD, moreover, is loving and generous, royal and bounteous: forgiving sinners: sending His rain with Divine impartiality upon the just and the unjust alike. "His flowers are just as beautiful in the bad man's garden." He loves even His enemies, for He is equally the Father of all. And man is made for GOD, and belongs to GOD. GOD and man need one another: all that is requisite is that they should find one another: and that is the Good News. The discovery of GOD is the Pearl of great price, a Treasure worth the sacrifice of everything else: the experience of a life-time, and a life-time's acquisitions, apart from GOD, are not worth anything at all. We who call ourselves Christians, do we seriously believe these things? Do we really share Christ's outlook upon GOD, or His hope for man? Is our view of life centred in GOD, as was His? Or do His words of reproach fit us, as they fitted S. Peter--"You think like a man, and not like GOD"? "The way to faith in GOD, and to love for man," it has been said, "is to come nearer to the living Jesus." If we would learn Christ's great prophecy about man and GOD, we must read the Gospels over again, with awakened eyes. We must take seriously the man Christ Jesus. We must hear the words of His prophecy, and face honestly the challenge of His sayings. We must confront the central Figure of the Gospels in all its tremendous realism, watering down nothing, explaining nothing away; "wrestling with Jesus of Nazareth as Jacob wrestled with the angel, and refusing to let Him go except He bless us." In the end He does bless those who wrestle with Him, and we shall not in the end be able to stop short of confessing Him as GOD. For the message of the Gospel story is ultimately not even the teaching of Christ: it is Christ Himself. He, alone among the world's teachers, perfectly practised what He preached, and embodied what He taught. And therefore the truth of GOD and the ideal for man in Him are one. In Him we see man as he ought to be, man as he is meant to be. And because we instinctively judge that the highest human nature is divine, and because also we feel that GOD Himself would be most divine and worshipful if we could conceive of Him as entering in and sharing our human experience and revealing Himself as man, those who have reflected most deeply about the matter have commonly been led to believe that so indeed it is. They have felt that in Jesus Christ man, as the mirror and the Son of GOD, reflects the Father's glory. They have felt that in Jesus Christ GOD, the Eternal Source of all things, has expressed and revealed Himself in a human life: that GOD has spoken a Word, a Word which is the expression of Himself: and that the Word is Christ. "Have I been so long time with you, and yet hast thou not known Me, Philip? He that hath seen Me, hath seen the Father." For there is, in truth, something in Jesus of Nazareth which compels our worship. And if we will take seriously the human Jesus we shall discover in the end Deity revealed in manhood, and we shall worship Him in whom we have believed. But that, of course, is dogma: in other words, it is the deliberate judgment of Christian faith. It is the expression, as a truth for the mind, of the value which a soul which is spiritually awake comes to set upon Jesus because it cannot do otherwise. A judgment like that is the conclusion--it ought not to be taken as the starting-point--of faith. There are many, of course, who are willing to begin by assuming provisionally that it is true, upon the authority of others who bear witness to it: and that is not an unreasonable thing to do, provided a man afterwards verifies it in the experience of his own life. But belief in the divinity of Jesus is too tremendous a confession lightly to be taken for granted by mere half-believers of a casual creed. Convictions worth having must sooner or later be fought for: they must be won by the sweat of the brow. And if a man is not content permanently to defer to the authority of others, he ought not to begin by taking for granted the doctrine that Jesus is GOD. He ought to begin as the Apostles began, by taking seriously the _Man_ Christ Jesus. CHAPTER II THE REVELATION OF THE FATHER It was characteristic of the ancient Jews that they had a vital belief in the living GOD: and belief in GOD, and that of a far more real and definite kind than the modern Englishman's vague admission of the existence of a Supreme Being, was a thing which Jesus was able to take for granted in those to whom He spoke. GOD to the Jew was the GOD of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, holy and righteous, gracious and merciful: active and operative in the world, the Controller of events: having a purpose for Israel and for the world, which in the process of the world's history was being wrought out, and which would one day find complete and adequate fulfilment in the setting up of GOD'S Eternal Kingdom. What Jesus did by His life and teaching was to deepen and intensify existing faith in GOD by the revelation of GOD as Father, and to revive and quicken the expectation of GOD'S Kingdom by the proclamation of its near approach. The application to GOD of the term "Father" was not new: but the revelation of what GOD'S Fatherhood meant in the personal life and faith of Jesus Himself as Son of God was something entirely new: while in Jesus' preaching of the Divine Kingdom there was a note of freshness and originality, and a spiritual assurance of certainty, which carried conviction of an entirely new kind to the minds and hearts of those who listened. All the more overwhelming must have seemed to the disciples the disaster of their Master's crucifixion. It was not merely that the hopes which in their minds had gathered about His person were shattered: their very faith in GOD Himself, and in the goodness of GOD, was for the time being torn up by the roots. Nothing but an event as real and as objective as the Crucifixion itself could have reversed for them this impression of sheer catastrophe. The resurrection of Jesus, which was for them the wonder of wonders, not only restored to them their faith in Him as the Christ of GOD, now "declared to be the Son of GOD with power by the resurrection from the dead"; it also relaid for them the foundations of faith in GOD and in His goodness and love upon a basis of certainty henceforth never to be shaken. "This is the message which we have heard of Him and declare unto you, that GOD is light, and in Him is no darkness at all." Meanwhile what of Jesus Himself--this Christ, through their relationship to whom they had come by this new experience of the reality of GOD? In symbolical vision they saw Him ascend up into the heavens and vanish from bodily sight: in pictorial language they spoke of Him as seated at GOD'S right hand. They were assured nevertheless-- and multitudes in many generations have echoed their conviction--that He was still in their midst unseen, their living Master and Lord. Instinctively they prayed to Him. Through Him they made their approach to the Father. He had transformed for them their world. He was the light of their lives. In Him was truth. He was their way to GOD. All the great movement of Christian thought in the New Testament is concerned in one way or another with the working out of this experienced significance of Jesus. The maturest expression of what He meant to them is contained in the great reflective Gospel--an interpretation rather than a simple portrait of the historical Jesus-- which is ascribed by tradition to S. John. The Christ of the Fourth Gospel is man, with all the attributes of most real and genuine manhood: but He is also more than man. He is the self-utterance--the Word--of GOD. He came forth from GOD, and went to GOD. He is the revelation of the Father, the expression of GOD'S nature and being "in the intelligible terms of a human life." To have seen Him is to have seen the Father, because He and the Father are one. He is the Way, the Truth, and the Life: the Bread that came down from heaven: the Fountain of living water: the Lamb of GOD, that taketh away the sin of the world. Later Christian orthodoxy never got farther than this. All that the formal doctrine of the Incarnation--as expressed, for example, in such a formulary as the Athanasian Creed--can truly be said to amount to is just the double insistence that Christ is at once truly and completely man, and also truly and completely GOD. The paradox is left unreconciled--"yet He is not two, but one Christ." The Godhead is expressed in manhood: in the manhood we see GOD. What does it mean to confess the Deity of Christ? It means just this: that we take the character of Christ as our clue to the character of GOD: that we interpret the life of Christ as an expression of the life of GOD: that we affirm the conviction, based upon deep and unshakable personal experience, that "GOD was in Christ reconciling the world unto Himself." What is the real question, the most fundamental of questions, which arises when we seek to interpret the world we live in? Is it not just the question: What is the nature or character of the ultimate Power or Principle or Person upon which or upon whom the world depends? Is not every religion, every imagined deity, in one sense an altar to the unknown GOD? The venture of Christian faith consists in staking all upon the assumption, the hypothesis abundantly verified in the life's experience of such as make it, that the character of the unknown GOD is revealed in Christ: that the love of Christ is the expression of the love of GOD, the sufferings of Christ an expression of the suffering of GOD, the triumph of Christ an expression of the eternal victory of GOD over all the evil and wickedness which mars the wonder of His creation. If we were to look primarily at the life of Nature, we might be tempted to say that GOD was cruel. If we considered certain of the works of man, we might be tempted to conclude that GOD was devilish. Looking at Jesus we gain the assurance that GOD is Love. We behold "the light of the knowledge of the glory of GOD in the face of Jesus Christ," and we are satisfied. And so we come to Jesus--the Prophet that is come into the world: and what we shall find, if we will suffer Him to work His work in us, is this. He will change our world for us, and will transform it. He will redeem our souls, so that there shall be in us a new birth, a new creation. He will show us the Father, and it shall suffice us. He will set our feet on the road to Calvary, and we shall rejoice to be crucified with Him. He will convert us--He will turn our lives inside out, so that they shall have their centre in GOD, and no longer in ourselves. He will bestow on us the Spirit without measure, so that we shall be sons and daughters of the Highest. And we shall know that we are of GOD, even though the whole world lieth in wickedness. And we shall know that the Son of GOD is come, and that He hath given us an understanding, that we may know Him that is true, and that we are in Him that is true, even in His Son Jesus Christ. CHAPTER III THE FELLOWSHIP OF THE SPIRIT To know GOD and to find Him revealed in Jesus Christ is not enough. To have set before one in the human life of Jesus an ideal of character, a pattern of perfect manhood for imitation, if the message of the Gospel were regarded as stopping short at that point, could only be discouraging to men conscious of moral weakness, of spiritual impotence and incapacity. It is probable that one of the reasons why the plain man to-day is so very apt to regard Christianity as consisting in the profession of a standard of ideal morality to which he knows himself to be personally incapable of attaining, and which those who do profess it fail conspicuously to practise, is to be found in the entire absence from his mind and outlook of any conception of the Holy Spirit, or any belief in the availability of the Spirit as a source of transforming energy and power in the lives of men. As a matter of fact, the doctrine of the Holy Spirit is of absolutely vital importance in the Christian scheme: and like all the great Christian doctrines, it has its basis in the realities of living experience. The opening chapters of the Acts of the Apostles set before us the picture of the earliest disciples, assured and no longer doubtful of the reality of the Resurrection, waiting in Jerusalem for a promised endowment of "power from on high." And the story of Pentecost is the record of the fulfilment of "the promise of the Father." We are making a mistake if we fix our attention primarily upon the outward symbols of wind and fire, or confuse our minds with the perplexities which are suggested by the references to "speaking with tongues." These things--however wonderful to the men of the Apostolic generation--are in themselves only examples of the psychological abnormalities which not infrequently accompany religious revivals. They are, as it were, the foam on the crest of the wave: evidences upon the surface of profounder forces astir in the deeper levels of personality. The disciples felt themselves taken hold of and transformed. Henceforth they were new men. "GOD had sent into their hearts through Jesus Christ a Power not of this world: only such a power could achieve what history assures us was achieved by those early Christians. By its compelling influence they found themselves welded together into a religious and social community, a fellowship of faith and hope and love, the true Israel, the Church of the living GOD. Enabled to become daily more and more like Jesus, they developed an ever fuller comprehension of His unique significance: and so they went about carrying on the work and teaching which He had begun on earth, certain that He was with them and energizing in them. They healed the sick in mind and body, they convinced Jewish and Pagan consciences of sin and its forgiveness, they created a new morality, and established a new hope: life and immortality were brought to light. And then, as need arose, they were inspired to write those books of the New Testament, in which their wonderful experience of GOD at work in them remains enshrined, the norm and standard of Christian faith and practice for all time. The Power which enabled them to do all this they called the Holy Spirit." [Footnote: _The Holy Spirit,_ by R. G. Parsons, in _The Meaning of the Creed_. (S.P.C.K., 1917)] To be "filled with the Spirit," to be "endued with power from on high," to be made free by the Spirit, so as to be free indeed-- released from the tyranny of a dead past, from bondage to law and literalism, from the power of sin and of evil habit--and to be brought forth into the glorious liberty of the sons of GOD: this was a very vital and essential part of what Christianity meant in the experience of those first disciples. The new morality of the Gospel, the new righteousness which was to exceed the righteousness of Pharisees and Scribes, was a thing as widely removed as possible from painful conformity to the letter of an external code: it was a fruit--a spontaneous outcome--of the Spirit. S. Paul has described for us the fruits of the Spirit as he had seen them manifested in the lives of men--"love, joy, peace, long-suffering, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, meekness, self-control": they are the essential lineaments of the character of Christ: they are summed up in the thirteenth chapter of 1 Corinthians in S. Paul's great hymn to Charity or Love, which itself reads like yet another portrait of the Christ. A Christianity which through the Spirit brought forth such fruits was true to type. The Spirit, in short, reproduced in men the life of filial relationship towards GOD: He is described as the Spirit of adoption, whereby men are enabled to cry Abba, Father. The Holy Spirit, moreover, is a Spirit of insight and interpretation, quickening men's faculties, enlightening their minds, enabling them to see, and to understand. He brings to remembrance the things of Christ and unfolds their significance: under His inspiration Christian preaching was developed, and a Christian doctrine about Christ and about GOD. In confident reliance upon His advocacy and His support the Apostles were made bold to confront in the name of Jesus a hostile world. Is it any wonder that in the eyes of their contemporaries they appeared as men possessed, as men made drunk with the new wine of some strange ecstasy, or mad with the fervour of some inexplicable exaltation? Yet the Spirit did not normally issue in ecstasy. It is not the way of GOD to over-ride men's reason, or to place their individual personalities in abeyance. The operation of the Spirit is to be seen rather--apart from His work in the gradual purification and deepening of character and motive, the bringing to birth and development in men's souls of the "new man" who is "Christ in them, the hope of glory"--in the intensification of men's normal faculties and gifts, and the direction of their exercise into channels profitable to the well-being of the community. For the Holy Spirit is the Spirit of brotherhood: and His gifts are bestowed "for the fitting of GOD'S people for the work of mutual service": they are for the upbuilding of the Body of Christ. The real miracle of the Christian life is simply the Christian life itself: and that a man should love his neighbour as himself is at least as wonderful as that he should speak with tongues. Reflecting upon the experience which had come to them, Christian men came to see that the Holy Spirit, who was the Spirit of the Father and the Son, was Divine, even as Jesus was Divine. In this strange Power which had transformed their lives they discovered GOD, energizing and operative in their hearts. Instinctively they worshipped and glorified the Spirit as the Lord, the Giver of Life. Those who have entered upon any genuine measure of Christian experience are not prepared to say that they were wrong. The Christian life depends upon the Spirit, now as then. Only in the power of the Holy Spirit is Christianity possible, and no one ever yet made any real advance in personal religion except in dependence upon an enabling energy of which the source was not in himself. "It is the Spirit that maketh alive." "The Spirit helpeth our infirmities." "I know that in myself, that is, in my flesh, dwelleth no good thing." "If ye, being evil, know how to give good gifts unto your children, how much more shall your heavenly Father give the Holy Spirit to them that ask Him." It is because of our lack of any living or effectual belief in the Holy Spirit, and because of our consequent failure to seek His inspiration and to submit ourselves to His influence, that the Christianity of men to-day is often so barren and so poor a thing; and the corporate life of Christendom languishes for the same reason. The Church is meant to be a fellowship, a brotherhood: the most real and living brotherhood on earth. Men find to-day the realization of brotherhood in a regiment: they find it in a school or in a club: in a Trade Union: or in such an organization as the Workers' Educational Association. They fail to find it in the Church of Christ. The Church can never be a brotherhood save in the Holy Spirit: for Christianity is essentially and before all things a religion of the Spirit, and the external organization and institutions of the Church, apart from "His vivifying breath, are a mere empty shell. Where there is no vision the people perish: and it is only under the inspiration of the Spirit that men see visions and dream dreams. Come from the four winds, O Breath, and breathe upon these dry bones of our modern churchmanship, that we may live: and so at last shall we stand upright on our feet, an exceeding great army, and go forth conquering and to conquer in the train of the victorious Christ." CHAPTER IV THE HOLY TRINITY God, as Christianity reveals Him, is no cold or remote Being, no abstract Principle-of-All-Things, reposing aloof and impersonal in the stillness of an eternal calm. He is rather the boundless energy of an eternal Life--"no motionless eternity of perfection, but an overflowing vitality, an inexhaustible fecundity, the everlasting well-spring of all existence." He is the eternal Creator of all things; not indeed in any sense which commits us to a literal acceptance of the mythology of Genesis, but in the sense that the created universe has its origin in His holy and righteous will, and that upon Him all things depend. "In affirming that the world was made by GOD, we do not affirm that it was ready-made from the beginning." The work of creation is still going on. GOD is eternally making all things new. The nature of GOD, in so far as the mind and affections of man are capable of knowing Him and entering into relationships with Him, is revealed in Jesus Christ His Son, and the revelation is completed and made intelligible by the manifestation of the Holy Spirit. S. Paul expressed the practical content of GOD'S self-disclosure in his phrase "the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, and the love of GOD, and the fellowship of the Holy Ghost." Later Christian thinkers worked it out into the doctrine of the Holy Trinity, the conception of GOD as at once Three in One, and One in Three. To the plain man the doctrine of the Holy Trinity is something of a puzzle--on the face of it an arithmetical paradox; suggestive, moreover, of the abstract subtleties of speculation rather than of the concrete realities of religious life. But the doctrine did not have its origin, as a matter of historical fact, in any perverse love of subtlety or speculation. It certainly arose out of living realities of spiritual experience. It arose as the result of an attempt, on the part of the earliest Christian believers, to think out the meaning of what had happened in their religious lives, and to express it in speech and thought. What was this thing that had come to them, this thing which had changed their whole outlook upon the world, which had transformed their very inmost souls and made them new men, full of a new vision and a new hope? Something tremendous had happened in their lives. They were confident that it held the secret of _all_ life, for them and for others. It was a new, an overwhelming, a conclusive revelation of GOD. They proclaimed it: they were constrained also to think about it. They had to find ways of expressing it. They had to think out what it meant. There was Jesus Christ. Who was He? What did He mean? What was His relation to man, and to GOD? Certainly He had shed light upon GOD, and upon GOD'S nature. Through His teaching, His character, His life and death, the conception of GOD was filled with a new meaning. In Him GOD was revealed with a fulness that had never been before. He disclosed more of GOD'S inmost character, and more of the relation which He bears to men. "He that hath seen Me hath seen the Father"--the disciples felt that this witness was true. By admitting to their thought of GOD all that the life of Jesus brought, they filled with fresh glory Christ's favourite word for GOD--"your Father which is in Heaven." In Jesus, they felt, GOD was expressed: His relationship to GOD was unique. They found the Divine in Him as in no other. They knew that GOD was in that life because He had spoken and acted there. "Through the eyes of Jesus" GOD looked out upon the world, and in Jesus' love and purity and yearning for the sinful and the heavy-laden, GOD Himself became visible. They knew now what GOD was like. GOD was like Christ. It was His glory that shone in Jesus' face. It was a new vision of Him when "Jesus of Nazareth passed by." In the grace--that is, the beauty, the glory and attractiveness--of the Lord Jesus Christ they saw a revelation of the love of GOD, a love that yearned over the fallen and the sorrowful, a love that suffered, and through suffering brought redemption. But there was something more. It was not simply that in Jesus Christ GOD had been brought near, so that they felt they knew GOD as never before. There was in the experience which had come to them more than simply a Revealer and a Revealed. There was the Spirit which took possession of them, a transforming inward Power: a Power able to reproduce in them, by a process of growth from more to more, that character of Christ in whose lineaments they had discerned the nature of the eternal GOD Himself. There was a Presence abiding in their midst, dwelling within them, a Breath of the Divine Life which every Christian knew: a Presence which brought strength and comfort, power and love and discipline, and bore fruits of love and joy and peace. Who or what was it? An influence from on high? Yes: but it seemed more intimate, more personal than any mere "influence," more indissolubly one with them, knitting them into a fellowship in which they were united with the Father and the Son. "Truly our fellowship is with the Father, and with His Son Jesus Christ." The Spirit which bore such fruits in them, which brought them into so intimate a fellowship with GOD in Christ, they recognized as the Spirit of GOD, as the Presence in them of very GOD Himself. GOD, they felt, was not a Being far off, an Influence telling upon men from a distance. He was the very secret of life, "closer than breathing, nearer than hands and feet," so that each soul was meant to be a sacred "temple of GOD," "GOD abiding in him and he in GOD." GOD came in the Son, GOD had come also and equally in the Spirit. The Eternal Source of all things, who was known and worshipped as the Living One even before Christ came, was made more fully known in Christ, and now He was still more intimately made known in the inmost spiritual life of every day. That was Christian experience. That was the experience out of which the doctrine of the Trinity arose. It arose out of an attempt to think the thing out. If we to-day find the doctrine difficult, at least the experience was and is both simple and profound. And we cannot help thinking about it. It may be that sometimes we think we would rather be content to say simply with S. John that "GOD is Love." And that is truly the simplest of Christian creeds. If we were able fully to understand it, it would be sufficient. "Holy Trinity, whatever else it may signify, is a mode of saying 'Holy Love.'" But as a matter of fact it is only through the revelation of the grace of the Lord Jesus Christ and the fellowship of the Holy Spirit that we can ever come to understand the love of GOD. In the Christian Gospel GOD is revealed first as Father, secondly as Sufferer, thirdly as the Spirit of eternally victorious Life: and it takes the whole threefold revelation to express with any fulness the rich wonder of what is meant by saying that GOD is Love. Our minds cannot help passing from the contemplation of the threefold character of GOD'S self-revelation to the thought of a certain threefoldness in GOD Himself. We have to find room and place for such a thought--the thought that GOD is _eternally_ Love, that He is _eternally_ Father, Son, and Spirit--and yet at the same time not depart from the fundamental Christian conviction that GOD is One. It is to be feared that many Christian people do sometimes come dangerously near to believing in three separate Gods, and what we call Unitarianism is a one-sided protest against such a tendency. GOD is indeed a unity: and so far Unitarianism is right. But Unitarianism is less than the full Christian faith in GOD, because it fails to do justice to the full riches of Christian experience, the many-sided wonder of GOD revealed in Christ, and made real to us here and now by the operation of the Spirit in our hearts. We are driven to say that GOD is not only One, but Three in One. Nevertheless, if any one finds the _theory_ of the Holy Trinity difficult let him not be overmuch dismayed. Let him learn to know GOD as Father and Jesus Christ as Lord and Saviour: let him learn to know the Holy Spirit as an energy of eternal life and inspiration in his heart. He will then be _in effect_ a Trinitarian believer, even though the theologians seem to him to talk a language which he does not understand: even though--to tell the truth--he is not greatly interested by what they say. At the same time, there is need that people should think out the meaning of the Christian revelation of GOD: perhaps that they should think it out afresh. It is possible to be technically orthodox and correct in doctrine and yet to miss the true reality of what GOD means. The conception of GOD as Father implies that GOD has eternally a Son: the life of Jesus Christ as Son of God reveals to us the quality of that Divine Fatherhood to which His Sonship corresponds. The Spirit, as the Divine Energy proceeding from the Father and the Son, is the assurance that the life of GOD can never be self-contained or aloof, but is for ever going forth from Himself, so as to be eternally operative and active, alike in the processes of Nature and in the lives of men. For "the Spirit of the Lord filleth the world," and the Divine Wisdom "reacheth from one end to the other mightily, and sweetly ordereth all things." It follows that Christianity, the religion of the Spirit, can never stand still. Not stagnation, but life, is its characteristic note, even "that Eternal Life which was with the Father, and hath been manifested unto us." The Church which is truly alive unto GOD, and aflame with the spirit of allegiance to Him who for the joy that was set before Him endured the Cross, the Church which is truly quickened and inspired by the Spirit of Truth and Love and Power, will always be ready to "live dangerously" in the world, not shrinking timorously from needed change or experiment, not holding aloof from conflict and adventure and movement, but facing courageously all new situations and new phases whether of life or of thought as they arise, shirking no issues, welcoming all new-found truth, bringing things both new and old out of her treasure-house, so that she may both "prove all things" and also "hold fast that which is good." There are conceptions of GOD proclaimed from Christian pulpits which are less than the full Christian conception of GOD. The GOD who is eternal Energy and Life and Love, the GOD who is revealed in Christ, and whose Spirit is the Spirit of Freedom and Brotherhood and Truth, is neither the tyrant God of the Calvinist, nor the dead-alive God of the traditionalist, nor the obscurantist God of those who would decry knowledge and quench the Spirit. Neither, again, is GOD the God of militarists, a God who delights in carnage--even though it should be the carnage of Germans; or the God who is thought of by His worshippers as being mainly the God of the sacristy, a kind of "supreme Guardian of the clerical interest in Europe." Least of all is GOD the commonplace deity of commonplace people, a sort of placid personification of respectability, the GOD whose religion is the religion of "the Conservative Party at prayer." He is a consuming Energy of Life and Fire. His eyes are "eyes of Flame," and His inmost essence a white-hot passion of sacrifice and of self-giving. At the heart of His self-revelation there is a Cross, the eternal symbol of the almightiness of Love: the Cross which is the source and the secret of all true victory, and newness of life, and peace. This, and none other, is the GOD whom truly to know is everlasting life, and whom to serve is liberty. For He it is who has made us unto Himself, with hearts that are restless until they rest in Him. To do His will is to realize the object of our existence as human beings: for it is to fulfil the purpose for which we have our being, the end for which we were created; even to glorify GOD, and to enjoy Him for ever. CHAPTER V THE PROBLEM OF EVIL But are not the evil and misery of the world, is not all that which we know as "sin" and pain, in manifest contradiction to this Christian conception of a GOD of Love? Most certainly they are: and it has been the strength of Christianity from the beginning that--unlike many rival systems and philosophies, including the "Christian Science" movement of modern times--it has always faced facts, and in particular has never regarded pain and sin, disease and sorrow and death, as anything but the stubborn realities which in point of fact they are. If we ask, indeed, how and why it was that evil, whether physical or moral, originally came into the world, the Gospel returns no answer, or an answer which, at best, merely echoes the ancient mythology of Jewish traditional belief--"By the envy of the Devil sin entered into the world, and death by sin": an answer which indeed denies emphatically that evil had its origin in GOD, and declares its essential root to lie in opposition to His will, but without attempting any explanation of the difficulty of conceiving how opposition to the will of GOD is possible. The Gospel is concerned with issues that are practical rather than strictly theoretical: and the really practical problem with regard to evil is not how it is to be explained but how it is to be overcome. If we ask how evil first arose, the only honest answer is that we do not know: though we can see how the possibility, at least, of moral evil (as distinct from mere physical pain) is implicit of necessity in the existence of moral freedom. The question is sometimes asked, "If GOD is omnipotent, why does He permit evil?" But the doctrine of Divine omnipotence is misconceived when it is interpreted to mean that GOD is able to accomplish things inherently self-contradictory. GOD is omnipotent only in the sense that He is supreme over all things, and able to do all possible things. He is not able to do impossible things: and to make man free, and yet to prevent him from doing evil if he so chooses, is a thing impossible even to GOD. Man is left free to crucify his Maker, and he has availed himself of his freedom by crucifying both his Maker and his fellow-man. If we ask, "Why does not GOD prevent war? Why does He permit murder and cruelty and rapine?" the answer is that He could only prevent these things by dint of over-riding the will of man by force: and moreover that it is not the method of GOD to do for man what man is perfectly well able to do for himself. For wars would cease if men universally desired not to fight. We are really raising a much more difficult question if we ask, "Why does GOD allow cancer?" And to this, it may be, there is no completely satisfactory answer to be given: though it is possible to see that cancer and other diseases have a biological function, and also to recognize that the endurance of pain in some cases (though not in all) ennobles and deepens character. The writer of the Epistle to the Hebrews does not hesitate to say of Christ Himself that He "learned obedience by the things which He suffered." In general it must be said that Christianity does not afford any complete theoretical solution of the problem of evil: what it does is to provide a point of view which sets evil in a new light, and which is adequate for the purposes of practical life. It teaches us that physical suffering, so far as it is inevitable, is to be endured and turned to spiritual profit, as a thing which is capable of bearing fruit in the deepening and discipline of character: and that moral evil is to be overcome, by the power of the grace of GOD in Christ. If we ask, "Why should the innocent suffer?" the Christian answer is contained in the Cross. "Christ also suffered, being guiltless": and although, if Christ were regarded simply as a man and nothing more, this fact would merely intensify the problem, the matter assumes a different complexion if Christ be regarded as the revelation of GOD. For if so, then suffering enters into the experience of GOD Himself, and so far from GOD being indifferent to the sorrow and misery of the world, He shares it, and is victorious through it. "In all their affliction, He was afflicted." GOD is Himself a Sufferer, the supreme Sufferer of all, and finds through suffering the instrument of His triumph. But if this be true, then all suffering everywhere is set in a new and a transfiguring light, for it assumes the character of a challenge to become partaker in the sufferings and triumph of the Christ. "Can ye drink of the Cup that I drink of?" So interpreted, suffering ceases to be a ground of petulance or of complaint. It is discovered to have a value. It is judged to be worth while. And it is possible to find in such a faith the grounds of a conviction that behind and beneath all suffering is the love which redeems it and the purpose which shall one day justify it, and that in very truth no sparrow falls to the ground without the Heavenly Father's knowledge and care. CHAPTER VI SIN AND REDEMPTION The Gospel affirms that men are called to be sons of GOD; to be perfect, as the heavenly Father is perfect. The correlative of this ideal view of man as he is meant to be is a sombre view of man as he actually is. "If we say that we have no sin we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us." "All have sinned, and come short of the glory of GOD." Sin is essentially a falling short, a missing of the mark, a failure to correspond with the purpose and the will of GOD. It need not necessarily involve--though of course it does in many instances involve--the deliberate transgression of a moral law which the conscience of the individual sinner recognizes as such. There are sins of omission as well as of commission, sins of ignorance as well as of deliberate intent. The fact that the conscience of a given individual does not accuse him, that he is not aware of himself as a sinner before GOD, is no evidence of his moral perfection, but rather the reverse. Jesus Christ, who possessed the surest as well as the sanest moral judgment the world has ever known, held deliberately that the open and acknowledged sinner, just because he was aware of his condition, was in a more hopeful spiritual state than the man who through ignorance of his own shortcomings believed himself to be righteous. The Pharisee, who compared himself with others to his own advantage, was condemned in the sight of GOD. The Publican, who would not so much as lift up his eyes unto heaven, but judging himself and his deeds by the standard of GOD'S holiness acknowledged himself a sinner, went away justified rather than the other. It is probably true that the ordinary man to-day is not worrying about his sins: but if so, the fact proves nothing except the secularity of his ideals and the shallowness of his sense of spiritual issues. It means, in short, that he has not taken seriously the standard of Christ. For the measure of a man's sin is simply the measure of the contrast between his character and the character of Christ. It is likely enough that many of us will never discover that we are sinners until we have deliberately tried and failed to follow Christ. The moment we do try seriously to follow Him, we become conscious of the presence within ourselves of "that horrid impediment which the Churches call sin." We discover that we are spiritually impotent: that there is that in us which is both selfish and self-complacent: that there is a "law of sin in our members" which is in conflict with the "law of the Spirit of life": and that "we have no power of ourselves to help ourselves." We are at the mercy of our own character, which has been wrongly moulded and formed amiss by the sins and follies, the self-indulgences and the moral slackness of our own past behaviour. We are, indeed, "tied and bound by the chain of our sins." To have realized so much is to have reached the necessary starting- point of any fruitful consideration of the Christian Gospel of redemption. The appeal of the Cross of Christ is to the human consciousness of sin; and the first effect of a true appreciation of the meaning of the Cross is to deepen in us the realization of what sin really is. The crucifixion of Christ was not the result of any peculiarly unexampled wickedness on the part of individuals. It was simply the natural and inevitable result of the moral collision between His ideals and those of society at large. The chief actors in the drama were men of like passions with ourselves, who were actuated by very ordinary human motives. It is indeed easy for men to say, "If we had been in the days of our fathers, we would not have been partakers with them in the blood of the prophets": but in so saying they are merely being witnesses unto themselves that they are the children of them which killed the prophets. Are we indeed so far removed beyond the reach of the moral weakness which yields against its own better judgment to the clamorous demands of public opinion, as to be in a position to cast stones at Pilate? Are we so exempt from the temptation to turn a dishonest penny, or to throw over a friend who has disappointed us, as to recognize no echo of ourselves in Judas? Have we never with the Sanhedrin allowed vested interests to warp our judgment, or resented a too searching criticism of our own character and proceedings, or sophisticated our consciences into a belief that we were offering GOD service when as a matter of fact we were merely giving expression to the religious and social prejudices of our class? Have we never, like the crowds who joined in the hue- and-cry, followed a multitude to do evil? There appears in the midst of a society of ordinary, average men--men such as ourselves--a Man ideally good: and He is put to death as a blasphemer. That is the awful tragedy of the Crucifixion. What does it mean? It means that a new and lurid light is thrown upon the ordinary impulses of our mind. It means that we see sin to be exceeding sinful. That is the first salutary fruit of a resolute contemplation of the Cross. The Cross shows us, in a word, what we are doing when we sin: consciously or unconsciously, we are crucifying that which is good. If we are able to go further, and by faith to discover in the character and bearing of the Son, crucified upon the Cross, the revelation of the heart of the Eternal Father, there dawns upon our minds a still more startling truth: consciously or unconsciously, we are crucifying GOD. Assuming, that is to say, that GOD is such as Christianity declares Him to be, holy, righteous, ideal and perfect Love, caring intensely for every one of His creatures and having a plan and a purpose for each one, then every failure of ours to correspond with the purpose of His love, every falling short of His ideal for us, every acknowledged slackness and moral failure in our lives, much more every wilful and deliberate transgression of the moral law, is simply the addition of yet a further stab to the wounds wherewith Love is wounded in the house of His friends. "Father, forgive them; they know not what they do"--the words of the Crucified are the revelation of what is in fact the eternal attitude of GOD: they are the expression of a love that is wounded, cut to the heart and crucified, by the lovelessness, the ingratitude, the tragedy of human sin, but which nevertheless, in spite of the pain, is willing to forgive. But the Cross is no mere passivity. It is more than simply a revelation of Divine suffering, of the eternal patience of the love of GOD. It is the expression of GOD in action: a deed of Divine self- sacrifice: a voluntary taking upon Himself by man's Eternal Lover of the burden of man's misery and sin. There is a profound truth in the saying of S. Paul, that the Son of GOD "loved me, and gave Himself for me": as also in S. Peter's words about the Christ "who His own self bare our sins in His own body on the Tree, that we, being dead to sins, should live unto righteousness." There is no need to import into the phrases of the New Testament writers the crude transactional notions of later theology, no need to drag in ideas about penalties and punishments. The sole and sufficient penalty of sin is simply the state of being a sinner [Footnote: Sin, of course, may involve consequences, and the consequences may be both irrevocable and bitter; nor is it denied that fear of consequences may operate as a deterrent from certain kinds of sin. What is denied is that such consequences are rightly to be described as "punishment."]: and the conception of _vicarious_ "punishment" is not merely immoral, but unintelligible. Vicarious _suffering_, indeed, there is: an enormous proportion of the sufferings of mankind--and the sufferings of Christ are a conspicuous case in point--arise directly as the result of others' sin and may be willingly borne for others' sake. And Christ died because of His love for men, and as the expression of the love of GOD for men. He who "wholly like to us was made" sounded the ultimate depths of the bitterest experience to which sin can lead, even the experience of being forsaken of GOD. "So GOD loved the world." Regarded thus, the Cross is at once a potent instrument for bringing men to repentance, and also the proclamation of the free and royal forgiveness of men's sins by the heavenly Father. "What the law could not do, in that it was weak through the flesh, GOD sending His own Son, in the likeness of sinful flesh, and for sin, condemned sin in the flesh: that the righteousness of the law might be fulfilled in us, who walk not after the flesh, but after the Spirit." Forgiveness must be received on the basis of repentance and confession as the free and unmerited gift of GOD in Christ: but the redemption which Christ came to bring to men does not stop short at the bare gift of initial forgiveness. The Cross cannot rightly be separated from the Resurrection, nor the Resurrection from the bestowal of the Spirit. The forgiveness of past transgressions carries with it also the gift of a new life in Christ and the power of the indwelling Spirit to transform and purify the heart. And this is a life-long process--a process, indeed, which extends beyond the limits of this present life. The old Adam dies hard, and the victory of the spirit over the flesh is not lightly won. In the life-story of every Christian there are repeated falls: there is need of a fresh gift of forgiveness ever renewed. It is only over stepping-stones of their dead selves that men are enabled to rise to higher things. But already in principle the victory is won. "In all these things we are more than conquerors through Him that loved us." We see in Christ the first-fruits of redeemed humanity, the one perfect response on the side of man to the love of GOD. And through Christ, our Representative, self-offered to the Father on our behalf, we are bold to have access with confidence unto the throne of GOD and in Him to offer ourselves, that so we may obtain mercy, and find grace to help in time of need. CHAPTER VII THE CHURCH AND HER MISSION IN THE WORLD The GOD and Father of Jesus Christ loves every human being individually, cares for each and has a specific vocation for each one to fulfil. This doctrine of the equal preciousness in the sight of GOD of all human souls is for Christianity fundamental. But the correlative of Divine fatherhood is human brotherhood: just because GOD is love, and fellowship is life and heaven, and the lack of it is hell, GOD does not redeem men individually, but as members of a brotherhood, a Church. The Church is simply the people of GOD. It is the fellowship of redeemed mankind, the community of all faithful people throughout this present world and in the sphere of the world beyond--one, holy, apostolic (i.e. missionary), and catholic, that is, universal. Death is no interruption in that Society, race is no barrier, and rank conveys no privilege. "There is neither Greek nor Jew, circumcision nor uncircumcision, Barbarian, Scythian, bond nor free: but Christ is all, and in all": over the Church the gates of Death prevail not: and "ye are all one Man in Christ Jesus." Furthermore, the Church is described as the Body, that is, the embodiment, of Christ: the instrument or organ whereby the Spirit of Christ works in the world. Her several members are individually limbs or members in that Body, and their individual gifts and capacities, whatever they may be, are to be dedicated and directed to the service of the Body as a whole, and not to any sectional or selfish ends or purposes. In practical churchmanship, rightly understood, is to be discovered the clue to the meaning and purpose of human life. Again, the Church is by definition international. The several races and nationalities of mankind have each their specific and individual contribution to make to the Church's common life, in accordance with their specific national temperaments and genius. All of them together are needed to give adequate expression in human life to the many-sided riches of GOD in Christ. The Church is incomplete so long as a single one remains outside. The idea, therefore, of a so-called "National" Church, as a thing isolated and self-contained, is intrinsically absurd. Therefore also the Church is missionary. She exists in order to proclaim to all the world the Good News of the love of GOD. She exists to bring all men everywhere under the scope of Christ's redemption, and to claim for the Spirit of Christ the effectual lordship over all human thought and life and activity. It is her threefold task at once to develop and make real within her own borders the life of brotherhood in Christ, to evangelize the heathen by declaring to them the satisfaction of their instinctive search for GOD in the answering search of GOD for them, and to labour for the discovery and application of Christian solutions to the problems of industry and commerce, of politics and social life and international affairs. In so far as the Church has been true to the Spirit of Christ she has succeeded; in so far as she has made compromises with the world, and in every generation has in greater or less degree been disloyal to the standards of her Master, she has failed. In every generation there has been partial and obvious failure, side by side with real, if partial and in some ways less immediately obvious, success. But the Church can never wholly fail and must one day wholly succeed, for the reason that behind her is the omnipotence of the love of GOD. CHAPTER VIII PROTESTANT AND CATHOLIC The last chapter sketched the ideal of the Church and her essential mission. The realization of that ideal in the existing Church, visibly embodied here in earth is extremely fragmentary and imperfect. The Church that is one, and holy, and apostolic, and catholic, the brotherhood in Christ of all mankind, knit into unity by the fellowship of the Holy Spirit, remains a vision of the future, though a vision which, once seen, mankind will never relinquish until it be accomplished. "I believe in the Holy Catholic Church," it has been said, "but I regret that she does not as yet exist." What does exist is a bewildering multiplicity of competing "denominations," whose points of difference are to the plain man obscure, but whose mutual separation is in his eyes an obvious scandal and an offence both against charity and against common sense. Why cannot they agree to sink their differences, and to unite upon the broad basis of a common loyalty to Christ? To what purpose is this overlapping and conflict? The reluctant tribute of the ancient sceptic--"See how these Christians love one another"--has become the modern worldling's cynical and familiar jibe; and when to the spectacle of Christian disunion is added the observation that professing Christians of all denominations appear to differ from other men, for the most part, "solely in their opinions" and not in their lives, the impulse to cry "A plague upon all your Churches" may seem all but irresistible. Yet the problem is not susceptible of any cheap or hasty solution. Unity is the Church's goal; but the Church cannot arrive at unity by mere elimination of differences. Agreement to differ is not unity: an agreement to pretend that the differences were not there would not even be honest. What is needed is a sympathetic study of the divergent traditions and principles which lie behind existing differences, with a view to discovering which are really differences of principle, and which rest merely upon prejudice. Unity, when it comes, can only be based upon mutual understanding and synthesis. The task will not be easy, and the time is not yet. Meanwhile the individual's first duty is to be loyal in the first instance [Footnote: Of course in the last resort no loyalty is due to any lesser authority than that of truth, wheresoever it is found and whatsoever it turns out to be.] to the spiritual tradition and discipline of the "denomination" to which he in fact belongs, unless and until he is led to conclude that some other embodies a fuller and more synthetic presentation of religious truth. It is a mistake for a man to be content either to remain in ignorance of his own immediate spiritual heritage or to refuse to try to understand what is distinctive and vital in the religious heritage of others. Most fatal of all is the attempt to combine personal loyalty to Christ with the repudiation of organized Christianity as a whole. True loyalty to Christ most certainly involves common religious fellowship upon the basis of common membership in the people of GOD. As a matter of fact, so soon as the various sects and denominations into which modern Western Christianity is divided are seriously examined, they are seen to fall into three main types or groups. Standing by herself is the Church of Rome, venerable, august, impressive in virtue of her unanimity, her coherence, her ordered discipline, and her international position, representing exclusively the ancient Catholic tradition, and making for herself exclusive claims. At the opposite end of the scale there are the multitudinous sects of Protestantism, differing mutually among themselves but tending (as some observers think) to set less and less store by their divergences and to develop towards some kind of loosely-knit federation--a more or less united Evangelical Church upon an exclusively Protestant basis. Between the two stands the Church of England, reaching out a hand in both directions, presenting to the superficial observer the appearance of a house divided against itself; representing nevertheless, according to her true ideal, a real attempt to synthesize the essentials of Catholicism with what is both true and positive in the Protestant tradition. Protestantism stands for the liberty of the individual, for freedom of thought and of inquiry, for emphasis upon the importance of vital personal religion, for the warning that "forms and ceremonies" are of no value in themselves, but only in so far as they are the expression and vehicle of the spirit. Protestantism proclaims the liberty of Christian prophesying, the free and unimpeded access of every human soul to the heavenly Father, the spiritual equality of all men in the sight of GOD. The Protestant tradition is jealous for the evangelical simplicity of the Gospel, and in general may be said to represent the principle of democracy in religion. Catholicism, on the other hand, bears witness to the glory of Churchmanship, to the importance of corporate loyalty to the Christian Society, to the value of sacramentalism, and the rich heritage of ancient devotional traditions, of liturgical worship and ordered ecclesiastical life. For Catholicism rites and sacraments are not anomalies, strange "material" excrescences upon a religion otherwise "spiritual." They are themselves channels and media of the Spirit's operation, vehicles of life and power. Catholicism is more inclusive than Protestantism, including, indeed, some things which Protestants are apt to insist should be excluded. The future would seem to lie neither with the negations of pure Protestantism nor with a Catholicism wholly unreformed; but rather with a liberalized Catholicism which shall do justice to the truth of the Protestant witness. For the present the best opportunity for the working out of such a liberalized Catholicism is to be found within the Church of England: and it is from the point of view of an English Churchman that the remainder of this book will be written. CHAPTER IX SACRAMENTS It is sometimes asked whether the sacraments of the Christian Church are two or more than two in number. The answer depends in part upon how the term "sacrament" is defined. But the wisest teaching is that which recognizes in particular sacraments--such as Baptism and the Supper of the Lord--the operation of a general principle which runs throughout all human experience, in things both sacred and profane. "I have no soul," remarked a well-known preacher on a famous occasion, "I have no soul, because I _am_ a soul: I _have_ a body." It would be difficult to express more aptly the principle of sacraments, or--what comes to the same thing--the true relationship of the material to the spiritual order. We are accustomed, in the world as we know it, to distinguish "spirit" from "matter": and we are tempted, by the mere fact that we draw a distinction between them, to think and speak at times as though spirit and matter were necessarily opposed. This is a great mistake. Matter, so far from being the opposite or the contradiction of spirit, is the medium of its expression, the vehicle of its manifestation. Spirit and matter are correlatives, but the ultimate reality of the world is spiritual. It is the whole purpose and function of matter to express, to embody, to incarnate, the Spirit. The preacher, therefore, was quite right. "I _am_ a soul": that is, I am a personality, a spirit: and to say that is to give expression to the fundamental truth of my existence: I _am_ a soul, and I am _not_ a body. But "I _have_ a body": that is, my personality is embodied or incarnate: I have a body which serves as the vehicle or instrument of my life as a man here upon earth: a body which is the organ of my spirit's self-expression and the medium both of my life's experience and of my intercourse with other men. I think, and my thoughts are mediated by movements of the brain. I speak, and the movements of my vocal chords set up vibrations and sound-waves which, impinging upon the nerves of another's ear, affect in turn another's brain: and the process, regarded from the point of view of the physiologist or the scientific observer, is a physical process through and through: yet it mediates from my _mind_ to the mind of him who hears me a meaning which is wholly spiritual. This principle of the mediation of the spiritual by the material is the principle of sacramentalism. It is the principle of incarnation, which runs throughout the world. The body is in this sense the sacrament of the spirit, sound is the sacrament of speech, and language the sacrament of thought. So in like manner water is the sacrament of cleansing, hands laid upon a man's head are the sacrament of authority or of benediction, food and drink are the sacrament of life. All life and all experience are in a true sense sacramental, the inward ever seeking to reveal itself in and through the outward, the outward deriving its whole significance from the fact that it expresses and mediates the spirit: so it is that a gesture--a bow or a salute--may be a sacrament of politeness, a handshake the sacrament of greeting and of friendship, the beauty of nature a sacrament of the celestial beauty, the world a sacrament of GOD. It is in the light of this general principle of sacraments that the specific sacraments of Christianity are to be understood. In Baptism the water of an outward washing is the sacrament both of initiation into a spiritual society, and also of the cleansing and regenerating power of GOD. In Confirmation the Church's outward benediction, of which the Bishop is the minister, is the sacrament of an inward gift of spiritual strength. In Absolution words outwardly pronounced by human lips are a sacrament of Divine forgiveness and a pledge to assure us thereof. In the Eucharist the outward elements of food and drink are the sacramental embodiment of Christ and the vehicles of His outpoured life. Other sacraments, or rites commonly reckoned sacramental, we need not here particularly consider. [Footnote: Matrimony and Holy Orders are discussed in different connexions elsewhere in this book. The sacrament of Unction, by which is meant the Anointing of the Sick with oil in the name of the Lord with a view to their recovery (to be distinguished from the mediaeval and modern Roman use of "Extreme Unction" as a preparation for death), has been revived sporadically within the Church of England in recent times, but is not usually for the plain man of more than academic importance or interest.] _Baptism and Confirmation_ Baptism is the sacrament of Christian initiation, whereby a man is made visibly a member of the Christian fellowship. Converts were originally baptized in adult life, as they are to-day in the mission field. The candidate publicly renounced his heathen past and made a profession of his faith in Christ and his desire to be loyal to His Church. As a sinner in need of redemption he went down into the water, and was three times immersed in the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. The rite conveyed an assurance of the forgiveness of sins. The going down into the water symbolized the burial of the dead past. The coming up out of the water expressed the idea of resurrection to newness of life in Christ. The new-made Christian was said to be born again of water and of the Spirit: the "old Adam" was slain, the "new man" raised up. The candidate was henceforward a "member of Christ," a "child of GOD," an "inheritor of the Kingdom of Heaven." He was admitted both to the privileges and to the responsibilities of Church membership. It remained only that he should walk worthily of his Christian profession, and to this end hands were laid upon his head in benediction, with prayer that he might be made strong by the indwelling power of the Holy Spirit. Confirmation was thus the complement of Baptism, and the two things normally went together. The same order is still commonly observed to- day in the case of persons baptized in adult life, and has the advantage of making the significance of both rites, and their mutual relation, at once more vivid and more intelligible. But the question arose, in the second Christian generation, of the status of children in relation to the Church. Might children be admitted to membership in infancy, or must they wait until they were adult? The Church decided that they were admissible, provided there were reasonable assurance that they would be Christianly brought up. Why should a child grow up in heathenism? Had not the Lord said, "Suffer the little children to come unto Me, and forbid them not"? There seemed no reason why children should not be brought at once within the sphere of Christian regeneration. But if children were baptized in infancy, it was plainly essential that they should at a later stage receive systematic instruction in Christian faith and practice; and the Western Church (though not the Eastern) adopted the practice of separating Confirmation from Baptism, and deferring the former until such instruction had been received. The plan has obvious advantages, though it tends to obscure in some respects the essential meaning of Confirmation and its original close relation to the sacrament of Baptism. In modern usage Baptism is normally administered by a priest, Confirmation always by a Bishop. Candidates are received by the latter upon the assurance of one of his subordinate clergy that they are adequately instructed and rightly disposed by faith and penitence to receive the gifts of the Holy Ghost--"the spirit of wisdom and understanding, the spirit of counsel and might, the spirit of knowledge and of the fear of the Lord." As an immediate preliminary to the actual rite the candidate solemnly and deliberately declares his acceptance of the obligations and implications of his baptism. The laying on of hands which follows is in one aspect the recognition by the Bishop, as chief pastor of the flock of Christ in his own diocese, that the candidate is henceforward of communicant status. In another aspect it is the bestowal through prayer of a fuller gift of the Holy Ghost, whereby the candidate is "confirmed" (_i.e._ made strong). It should be noted that the Bishop's prayer for each candidate is not that he may be made magically perfect there and then, but that he may "daily increase" in GOD'S Holy Spirit "more and more," until he come to GOD'S "everlasting Kingdom." _The Sacrament of Repentance_ It must be admitted that very large numbers of those who are confirmed lapse at an early stage in their lives from the communion of the Church and never return. The causes of this are various, and there is no one sovereign or universal remedy. Sometimes it is to be feared that there has been either lack of intelligence or lack of thoroughness in the candidates' preparation. In not a few cases what has really happened is that the young communicant has been led into the commission of some sin of a kind which his own conscience recognizes as grave, so that he feels that he has spoilt his record and failed to "live up to" his profession. To go back to communion, he thinks, would in these circumstances be a kind of mockery. Unfortunately he does not know--since too often he has not been taught--any effectual method of spiritual recovery and renewal. What is needed in such cases is a real doctrine and practice of Christian repentance. It is the universal teaching of the Christian Church that forgiveness is freely available for all those who truly repent. A man who, laying aside self-justification, will freely acknowledge his offences and shortcomings before GOD, and that in a spirit not of self-pity, self-loathing or self-contempt, but of sorrow at having brought discredit upon the Christian name and done what in him lies to crucify the Son of GOD afresh, may freely claim and find in Christ forgiveness and inward peace. This Gospel or message of the forgiveness of sins it is part of the mission of the Christian Church to set forth. It is her mission to set it forth not merely as a piece of good news proclaimed in general terms to the world at large, but as a healing assurance brought home in detail, as need may require, to the individual consciences of sinners. "Whosesoever sins ye remit, they are remitted unto them, and whosesoever sins ye retain, they are retained." The words may have been uttered by the historical Jesus of Nazareth, or they may not-- they are ascribed to the risen Christ in the Fourth Gospel. In any event they represent the Church's conviction of her authority to exercise a reconciling ministry, to remit sins and to retain them. In early times such grave offenders as by their deeds had brought scandal upon the Christian name were excluded from Christian fellowship until reconciled by penance; and many whose sins, being secret, might otherwise have escaped detection, preferred to make open confession of them in the Christian assembly. "Confess your faults one to another," writes S. James, "and pray one for another, that ye may be healed." The ancient system of public "penance" (_i.e._ penitence) was for a time at least revived in a modern form by Wesley.[Footnote: The "class-meeting" of strict Wesleyanism is said to have originally involved mutual confession of sins among the members of the "class."] Its application to notorious offenders is described in the English Prayer-book as a "godly discipline," the restoration of which is "much to be wished." But it is hardly practicable under the conditions of modern Church life, and it has disadvantages as well as advantages. Its working in the early days of the Church was not found to be wholly for good. Burdened consciences nevertheless require relief: and sin is not merely a private affair between the soul and GOD; it is also an offence against the Brotherhood. A system grew up under which the need was met by the substitution, in the majority of cases, of private for public penance. Confession was made, no longer before the whole assembly, but privately before the Bishop, whose office it was, both as pastor of the flock and as representative of the Church, to declare forgiveness or "absolution," and to restore penitents to communion. At a later date presbyters or priests were also authorized, as delegates of the Bishop for this and other purposes, to receive confessions and to absolve penitents. In this way arose in the Church what came to be known as the sacrament of Penance, or the practice of sacramental confession. It was ranked as a sacrament for the reason that the inward assurance of GOD'S pardon is in this connexion outwardly mediated by words of Absolution audibly pronounced. In medieval times there grew up a regular system of the confessional and an elaborate science of the guidance and direction of souls. Recourse to sacramental confession was made obligatory for all Christians at least once in the year. [Footnote: This is still the formal rule of the Church of Rome.] The system came to be attended by many superstitions and abuses, frequently it was exploited in the interests of a corrupt sacerdotalism, sometimes it was associated with a degrading casuistry. But the confessional met and meets a real human need; and while Protestantism, as a whole, broke away at the time of the Reformation in a violent reaction from the whole theory and practice of sacramental confession, the Church of England quite deliberately retained it. It was abolished as a compulsory obligation. It was made less prominent in the Church's system. But as a means of spiritual reconciliation and spiritual guidance, freely open to such as for any reason desire to make use of it, it was retained; and in the case of persons who for reasons of conscience hesitate to present themselves for Holy Communion it is specifically urged in the Book of Common Prayer as the needed remedy. [Footnote: See the closing paragraph of the first of the three lengthy exhortations to Holy Communion, printed immediately after the "Prayer for the Church Militant" in the Prayer- book.]The words of S. John xx. 23 are quoted in the Anglican formula of ordination to the priesthood; and a form of words to be used by the priest in the private absolution of penitents is prescribed in the Office for the Visitation of the Sick. As regards the theory of the confessional it is important to bear certain things in mind. The confession is made primarily to GOD, secondarily to His Church. The priest is the Church's accredited delegate and representative. He acts not in virtue of any magical powers inherent in himself, either as an individual or as a member of any so-called sacerdotal caste. If he declares the penitent absolved it is as pastor of the flock, and as one officially authorized by the Church to be her mouthpiece for these purposes. The ultimate absolving authority, under GOD, is the Christian Society as a whole. It is a confessor's duty to assure himself of the reality of the penitent's contrition, and to enjoin that restitution or amends shall be made for any wrong which has been done, in all cases in which amends or restitution is possible. He may also give advice and counsel for the guidance of the spiritual life; and it is customary to enjoin the performance of a "penance," which in modern practice usually takes the form of some minor spiritual exercise of a more or less remedial kind. The acceptance of the penance is regarded as an enacted symbol of submission to the Church's judgment. (The mediaeval theory that the penance is of the nature of a punishment or penalty imposed by the Church upon her erring members ought, I think, to be repudiated. It is perhaps permissible to differ from the moral theology of Borne in holding that it is not essential to impose a penance at all, while recognizing the value in most cases of suggesting some definite act of self-discipline or observance, of a kind adapted to the penitent's circumstances and needs). The confessor is, of course, bound in the strictest way not to reveal anything said to him in confession, or to broach the subject again to the penitent without the latter's express permission, or to allow his subsequent manner or behaviour to be influenced in any the least degree by what has been confessed. It is highly unfortunate that the practice of sacramental confession should have been made the subject of controversy, and as a consequence of this that the Church's teaching with regard to it should have been either unhealthily suppressed or obtruded out of season. There are without doubt numerous cases in which such a spiritual remedy is badly needed. There are burdened souls needing absolution and there are perplexed souls needing guidance. What is desirable is that the actual teaching of the Church of England on this subject should be plainly and frankly set before her members, and that opportunities should be afforded them of making their confessions if they desire or need to do so. It is the plain duty of a parish priest to provide such opportunities for his people. He is as plainly going beyond his duty if he tries to enforce the practice of sacramental confession as a necessary obligation. There are differences of opinion as to how widespread is the spiritual need to which confession ministers. There are reasons for thinking that it is more widespread than is commonly recognized. But it is of vital importance that no one should be pressed or brow-beaten into going to confession, or should do so, in any circumstances, otherwise than by his own voluntary act. _The Sacrament of Holy Communion_ Throughout Christian history and in all parts of Christendom the central and highest focus of Christian worship and devotion, and the great normal vivifying channel of spiritual renewal and power, has been the sacrament of Holy Communion. It has been celebrated amid great diversities of liturgy and ritual and circumstance, and has been known by many different names and titles--mass, eucharist, communion, sacrifice: essentially it is one thing--the sacrament of the Body and Blood of Christ. The Gospels record that at the Last Supper on the night of His betrayal the Lord Jesus took bread and blessed and broke it, saying, "Take, eat: this is My Body, which is for you: do this in remembrance of Me": and that in like manner He took a Cup of mingled wine and water, and when He had given thanks He gave it to them, saying, "This Cup is the New Covenant in My Blood, which is shed for you and for many for the remission of sins: do this, as often as ye shall drink it, in remembrance of Me." With the exceptions of the Society of Friends and the Salvation Army, every existing "denomination" of Christians has continued in one form or another the observance of this Mystical Meal. In the Roman Church, and in many parishes of the Church of England, it is celebrated daily; and it is evident from the provisions of her Prayer-book that the Church of England intends that there shall be a celebration of the Communion in all normal parishes at least on all Sundays and Holy Days. Historically the institution of the weekly Eucharist is deeply rooted in the tradition of the Church, and is the origin of the Christian Sunday, The Christians met together week by week to keep on the day of the Lord's rising that memorial of the crucified yet risen Christ which is also Christ's gift of Himself to men. It would have seemed unthinkable in the early days of Christianity for any baptized Christian, who was not prevented by unavoidable circumstances from being present, to be absent on the Lord's Day from the Lord's Table. It ought to be equally unthinkable to-day. With regard to the significance of the Sacrament, a man's view is necessarily coloured partly by his own experience as a communicant, and partly by the extent to which he is disposed to attach weight to the devotional traditions of Christendom as a whole; and it is worth remembering that forms of teaching about Holy Communion which are intellectually crude may represent a real, though an infelicitous, attempt to express in thought certain elements in eucharistic experience which are deep and real, and to which more attenuated types of doctrine fail to do justice. The celebration of the Eucharist is from one point of view an enacted drama, a doing over again in the name and in the person of Christ of that which Christ did in His own person on the night of the Last Supper. Bread is taken and blessed and broken and offered to GOD in thanksgiving: Wine in like manner is poured out and blessed and offered together with the Bread. And the Bread and the Wine symbolize the Body and the Blood of Christ--the Body that was broken and the Blood that was shed--the life that was freely given for the life of the world. The whole drama of the Eucharist is thus deeply symbolical; but the Bread and the Wine are more than _mere_ symbols in the modern sense of that word. They are a sacrament of Christ Himself, who by means of them manifests His presence in the midst of His worshipping disciples to be the Bread of life and the Food of souls. "This is My Body"--that is, "This embodies Me: where this is, I am: receiving this, you receive Me." "This is My Blood"--that is, "This is My life: My life which is given for you: My life which in death I laid down and in rising again from the dead I resumed: My life which is to be the principle of spiritual life in you." "Except ye eat the flesh of the Son of Man, and drink His blood, ye have no life in you. Whoso eateth My flesh and drinketh My blood, hath eternal life.... He that eateth My flesh and drinketh My blood, dwelleth in Me and I in him." There is, then, in the communion of the Body and Blood of Christ a manifestation of Christ's Real Presence, a spiritual Presence indeed, which is discerned by the spiritual vision of Christian faith, but a Presence of which the reality is independent of individual faithlessness, though not independent of the faith of the Christian Church as a whole. This doctrine of the Real Presence (as it is called) of course does not imply that Christ is absent from His Church at other times or in other connexions. We believe that all times and places are present to the mind of Christ, and that therefore at all times and in all places we are in His presence. We believe, further, that Christ through the Spirit is embodied, however inadequately, in His Church, and that He dwells spiritually in the hearts of Christian men. There is nothing, however, in these truths to exclude the further truth that His presence is specially manifested through the Bread which embodies Him and the Wine which is His Blood. Bread and wine, solemnly set apart for the purpose of communion and hallowed by the Spirit in response to the prayer of the Church, possess henceforward a significance which did not belong to them before. They are now vehicles or sacraments of the Body and Blood of Christ. The purpose of the manifestation of Christ's Presence in Holy Communion is that we should receive Him, and a participation in the service which stops short of actual communion is so far incomplete. But it is gratuitous to assume that the reality of the sacramental Presence is limited to the moment of actual or individual reception, and it is untrue to say that attendance at the service, apart from individual reception, is unmeaning. The habitual attendance of persons who are not regular communicants--unless it be in the case of those who for any reason are as yet unconfirmed--falls short of full discipleship and is intrinsically undesirable. But this objection does not apply to attendance at the service on the part of communicant Churchmen who yet on a particular occasion do not communicate: and to attend throughout the service without personally communicating is a procedure infinitely preferable to the irreverent modern custom, still prevalent in too many parishes, of leaving the Church in the course of a celebration of the Communion, and before the consecration has taken place. It is unfair to those who are preparing to receive Communion that their devotions should be disturbed by the noisy egress of a large body of worshippers. It is also quite unintelligible that any Churchman who considers seriously the meaning of the Eucharist should be content to depart before the liturgical drama has reached its climax. As regards actual reception of Holy Communion, it is a partaking of Christ, who gives Himself therein to His disciples to be in them a spiritual principle of life and power. S. Paul discovers in the Eucharist a spiritual food and drink which is the reality to which the Manna and the Water from the Rock of Hebrew story correspond as types and shadows, and he declares that the Bread which we break is a sharing of the Body of Christ, and that the Cup of Blessing which we bless is a sharing of His Blood. At the same time the Communion is not to be interpreted in any gross or carnal manner, or in such a way as to give colour to the ancient taunt of Celsus, the heathen critic, that Christians were self-confessed cannibals. The Fourth Gospel, which, in a context that is in a general sense eucharistic, ascribes to our Lord strong phrases about the necessity of eating His flesh and drinking His blood, proceeds in the same context to explain that "it is the Spirit that giveth life," that "the flesh," in itself, "profiteth nothing." "The sayings which I have spoken unto you are spirit and are life." In other words, we are to understand that when our Lord uses the terms "flesh" and "blood" He means the Spirit of which His life in the flesh was the expression, and the Life of which His outpoured Blood was the principle: that the inward reality of the Eucharist is to be discovered, not in any quasi-material fleshly embodiment which the Bread conceals, or in any quasi-literal Blood, but rather in the Spirit and the Life of Christ Himself. The Bread is His Body in the sense that it is an embodiment of His Spirit: the Wine is His Blood in the sense that it mediates His Life. The sacrament is to be understood as a "point of personal contact with Jesus Christ." Rightly to receive Communion is to hold spiritual converse with the risen Lord and to find in Him the Bread of Life, the food and sustenance of the soul. So it is that the Eucharist, at once supremely natural and wholly supernatural, is the meeting-place of earth and heaven. From one point of view our worship is in the heavenly places in Christ Jesus. It is "with angels and archangels and with all the company of heaven," that we laud and magnify GOD'S Holy Name. We join in an eternal act of worship, which is that of the whole Church, the departed with the living, whose adoration ascends continually before the throne of GOD. If we like to express it so, we are pleading the eternal sacrifice: we are uniting ourselves, in desire and in intention, with Christ's eternal self-devotion and oblation of Himself. Calvary itself was in a sense but the enacted symbol, the supreme outward expression, of our Lord's sacrifice, of which the inward essence is eternal. It is the self-offering of a Will that was wholly dedicated to GOD on others' behalf, obedient even unto death, and through death triumphant: the Will of One "who through the Eternal Spirit offered Himself without spot to GOD," and who now, being ascended into the heavens, for ever liveth to make intercession for us. Looking at the Eucharist from this point of view we are bold to approach the Throne of GOD and to offer Christ on our behalf--"Behold the Lamb of GOD that taketh away the sin of the world": but we proceed also to offer ourselves in Christ--"Here we offer and present unto Thee, O Lord, ourselves, our souls and bodies, to be a reasonable, holy and lively sacrifice unto Thee." And so doing we are made one with Christ and one in Him with each other. The Eucharist has a social aspect which is too little regarded. It is the sacrament of Holy Fellowship. "We that are many are one Bread, one Body," wrote S. Paul, "for we all partake of the one Bread." The Holy Communion is the sacrament of the unity of all Christians in Christ. The scandal of a divided Christendom shows itself perhaps most of all in the fact that it prevents inter- communion. For that very reason it appears to many persons unreal, and therefore wrong, to practise isolated acts of inter-communion while ecclesiastical differences remain unresolved: it is to conceal the fact of actual disunion beneath the cloak of immediate sentiment. Yet there is a true sense in which, through the Spirit, we _are_, in the act of communion, made one with the fellowship of all faithful people whether in the sphere of this earthly life or in the world that is beyond death and tears: with all those, of whatever race or rank or age or country, who amid whatever diversity of language and liturgy and denominational loyalty, have named the name of Christ and received the life of Christ in obedience to His command as they understood it. There is no bond comparable to this bond, and no equality like the equality of those who, high and low, rich and poor, one with another, kneel side by side as brothers and sisters at the common Table of the Lord. And lastly there is a further point. The Body of Christ is a broken Body and the Blood is Blood that is shed. "This is My Body which is for you"--for you, and never for Myself. The Bread is the Bread of Sacrifice and the Cup is the Stirrup-cup of Service: and part, surely, and a great part, of the meaning of the words, "Do this in remembrance of Me," is "Break your bodies in union with My Body broken: give your lives in sacrifice for others, as I have given Mine." The Eucharist, rightly regarded, is the mainspring and motive-power of service, the principle of a life that is crucified. And all those who in their day and generation have spent their lives unselfishly and used themselves up in promoting causes not their own are partakers in that Holy Fellowship. At this present time of war and tumult, when all the powers of Hell are abroad and leagued together for the onset, we think of that which alone can be the redemption of war, even the self-devotion of those who, hating the whole devilish business and going into it only because they saw no alternative to Duty's clear and imperative call, have been counted worthy to show forth the love than which no man hath greater, even to lay down their lives for their friends. There is no one so unfortunate as not to have known some such men. And at the Communion Service "in the act of conscious incorporation into the fellowship of the love of Jesus," it may be given to us in some measure to understand these things, and to know that we are become partakers in the power of a world-wide crucifixion, a fellowship of broken bodies and lives poured out in Christ: and to know also--with a knowledge that is not of this world--that somehow, in it and through it, the Spirit of GOD in Christ will bring redemption. So wonderful, so many-sided, and so full of meaning is this Sacrament: so great is the measure of their loss who, professing and calling themselves Christians, are content to ignore the last injunction of the Christ to His disciples on the night before He died that we might live. CHAPTER X THE LAST THINGS "It is appointed unto men once to die, and after death the judgment." "He shall come again in glory to judge both the quick and the dead, whose Kingdom shall have no end." "I believe in the resurrection of the body, and the life everlasting." Jesus Christ spoke in symbolical language of His coming in the clouds of heaven as Son of Man with power and great glory, and declared that the Divine verdict upon the lives and deeds of men should be determined by their relationship to Him and to His ideals. Both in the days of the Apostles, and for the most part among succeeding generations of Christian people down to the present time, it would seem that a more literal signification was attached to His words than they will really bear. The truth of the Divine Judgment upon men's lives nevertheless stands. "GOD is a great Judge, strong and patient: and GOD is provoked every day." We must, however, be careful, in thinking of the reality of Divine Judgment, to interpret the justice of GOD in the light of the Christian revelation of His Love. The attitude of GOD towards sinners is never anything but love, though a love that is holy and righteous, and never merely sentimental. GOD as Christ reveals Him can never impose or inflict a merely external penalty upon a sinner, other than the supreme penalty of being simply what he is, viz. a soul who by his own deliberate actions has separated himself from goodness and from GOD. It is important in thinking of the Judgment to remember that the essence of judgment is neither the sentence nor the penalty: it is simply the verdict, whereby moral and spiritual realities are revealed, shams and disguises are stripped off, and evil is separated from good. [Footnote: The associations of an English law-court, in which the verdict is the work of the jury, are here misleading.] If our Lord, speaking in parables, declared, of such as had neglected to do good, that "these shall go away into eternal punishment," a considerable body of orthodox opinion in the Christian Church has always held that the punishment in question consists essentially in the "penalty of loss"--the loss of goodness and of GOD, the loss of capacity for the life which is life indeed--rather than in any imagined "penalty of sense," or purposeless prolongation of pain. The imagery which our Lord employed to describe the spiritual condition known as "hell" is taken from the Valley of Hinnom, a ravine just outside the walls of Jerusalem, in which fires were continually maintained for the destruction of refuse, and maggots preyed on offal. The imagery is sufficiently terrible; but it suggests the destruction of waste products in GOD'S creation, rather than the prolonged torture of living beings. It may well be that a soul, which by persistent and deliberate rejection of every appeal of the Divine Love even to the very end--in this life or beyond--has become so wholly self-identified with evil as to be finally incapable of life in GOD, passes, of necessity, out of sentient existence altogether. We do not know. What we do know is, in the first place, that wickedness is of its very nature instinct with the eternal quality of "hell"; and, in the second place, that GOD is Love, and that GOD "desireth not the death of a sinner, but rather that he may turn from his wickedness, and live." Just as the term "hell" expresses the condition of a soul which by its own act and deed and deliberate choice has become wholly self- identified with evil, so the term "heaven" expresses the spiritual state of the pure in heart, to whom it is given to see GOD. So regarded, heaven is simply the ideal consummation of progressive spiritual advance, the perfect fruition of that "beatific vision" which the saints of GOD desired. It has ever been the conviction of the Christian Church that her members are already, even in this present life, made partakers in the life of heaven, just in proportion as their affections are set upon things above and not upon things in the earth. What is begun here is continued more perfectly hereafter; but it is unreasonable to assume that at the moment of death the ultimate fulness of "heaven" is immediately attained. The Church, therefore, has believed in an intermediate state, sometimes called "Purgatory," a condition of progressive purification and spiritual growth, characterized at once by a deepening penitence for the sins and failures of the past, and by a deepening joy in GOD'S more perfect service. Moreover, since the Christian salvation is a social salvation, those who have departed this life in GOD'S faith and fear shall not without us be made perfect. None can enter fully into the joy of the Lord until the whole of GOD'S great World-purpose is accomplished, and all are gathered in. This brings us to the consideration of the Christian belief in the Second Advent and the final Kingdom of GOD. It has already been remarked that the terms in which this belief is expressed are symbolical and should not be taken literally. Just because we ourselves, under the conditions of life here upon earth, are immersed in the stream of time, the idea of an ending of the World-process, a final passing over of time into eternity, is to us, in the strict and literal sense of the words, unthinkable. Only under the form of imagery and symbol is it in the nature of things possible for the idea of the last great Drama to be expressed, or rather, suggested: it is impossible for our minds to grasp, in any more exact or effectual manner, the Reality which the imagery is meant to symbolize. It may be that the event expressed by the dramatic picture of the Second Advent of the Christ is simply the revelation of the fact of His Eternal Presence at once as Saviour and as Judge; however this may be, the picture stands for the assurance of His final triumph, and the vindication of His Kingdom in its fulness: and as such it is the object of Christian hope--"Hallowed be Thy Name; Thy Kingdom come; Thy will be done; in earth, as it is in Heaven." If we ask what is the positive nature of the Christian hope and what the final character of the life of heaven, the answer is that we cannot fully say, that we know only in part, "we see obscurely, as in a mirror." In hymn and ecstasy and vision men have sought to find expression for the substance of things hoped for, and they have failed. "Eye hath not seen nor ear heard, neither hath it entered into the heart of man to conceive, the things that GOD hath prepared for them that love Him." The Book of the Revelation essays to paint a picture of the heavenly state, and for the most part succeeds in setting before our minds a noble imagery; but in the end its language is most convincing when it tells us what heaven is _not_. "They shall hunger no more, neither thirst any more, neither shall the sun light on them, nor any heat. And GOD shall wipe away all tears from their eyes." Negatives and contrasts--the picture of a state of things contrasted with all that in the world as we know it is amiss; we cannot _positively_ envisage heaven. Only we believe that "there remaineth a rest for the people of GOD," where nevertheless they rest not day or night from His perfect service. "Beloved, now are we sons of GOD, and it doth not yet appear what we shall be: but we know that when He shall appear we shall be like Him: for we shall see Him as He is." Here this chapter might end: but with regard to the nature of the Christian conception of the life of the world to come there is something more to be said: for the Church's creed contains the assertion of a belief in the Resurrection of the Body, or even, in the Latin form of the Apostles' Creed, and in the translation which appears in the Prayer-book Service for Baptism, in the Resurrection of the Flesh. The plain man may be tempted, brushing aside such a doctrine in its plain and literal acceptation as a manifest impossibility, either to hold aloof from a Church which retains such an affirmation in her creed, or else to conclude hastily that the words are meant only as a picturesque way of expressing a belief in the immortality of the soul. Either attitude would be a mistake. It is true that a literal resuscitation of Christian corpses on some future Day of Resurrection would be neither possible nor desirable. Nevertheless the Christian doctrine of the life to come involves more than a bare assertion of the immortality of the soul. The body is the embodiment or vehicle of the spirit; the spirit disembodied would be a mere wraith, a phantasm of the living man. The life of the world to come is not unreal or shadowy as compared with the concrete reality of the life of earth: it is a life richer and fuller, more concrete and more glorious than the life of earth. The Church by her doctrine of the Resurrection means to affirm that the full reality of that which made the living man what he was is carried over into the life beyond. The buried corpse is not "the body that shall be." "There is a natural body, and there is a spiritual body." As to the nature of the future embodiment of the spirit in the life beyond the grave we are ignorant. "GOD giveth it a body as it hath pleased Him, and to each seed a body of its own." But we believe that "the deeds done in the body" here upon earth while we are yet tabernacling in the flesh necessarily affect and determine the character of the spiritual embodiment which shall be ours hereafter. For this reason we hold our bodies sacred, as being temples of the Holy Ghost. "The body is not for fornication, but for the Lord; and the Lord for the body." Christianity can have nothing to do with the notion that the defilement of the body is without effect in the pollution of the soul. [NOTE.-For a fuller treatment of the subjects of the Second Advent and the Resurrection of the Body the writer may be allowed to refer to Chapters III. and IV. in his book, _Dogma, fact and Experience_ (Macmillan & Co., 1915).] CHAPTER XI CLERGY AND LAITY The clergy are not the Church. They are a specialized class within it. They are men who believe themselves to be called by GOD to give themselves for life to the particular work of caring directly for the spiritual interests of their fellows. To this end they are set apart by ordination. They hold the commission and authorization of the Church to minister the Word and Sacraments of the Gospel in the name of Christ and of the Brotherhood. Their task is high and difficult. It is not wonderful if they fail. But solemn prayer is offered for them at their ordination: and the answer to the Church's prayers is according to the measure of the Church's faith. The historical or Catholic system of ministry in the Church consists of a hierarchy in three orders or gradations. To the order of Bishops belongs oversight or pastorate-in-chief. It is not the business of a Bishop to be prelatical, or to lord it over GOD'S heritage, but to be the servant of the servants of GOD. A Bishop is consecrated to his office by not less than three of those who are already Bishops. He exercises all the functions of the Christian ministry, including those of confirmation and ordination and the right to take part in episcopal consecrations. Priests and deacons are a Bishop's delegates for certain purposes. A priest may have charge of a "parish" or subdivision of a diocese, and is competent to celebrate the Eucharist, to bless, to baptize, and to absolve. He is also authorized to preach, and to give instruction in Christian doctrine. He may not confirm or ordain apart from the Bishop, though he may co-operate with the latter in ordinations to the priesthood. He is ordained to his ministry by the Bishop acting in conjunction with certain representatives of the priesthood who take part with him in the laying on of hands. Deacons are subordinate ministers appointed to assist parish priests in the work of parochial visiting and also, within certain limits, in the conduct of Divine worship and the administration of the sacraments. They may read parts of the service, but have no authority to bless or to absolve. They may preach by express and specific license from the Bishop. They may not celebrate the Eucharist, but may assist the priest who does so by reading the Gospel and administering the chalice. They are ordained to their office by the Bishop, and in most cases, though not invariably, proceed subsequently to the priesthood. [Footnote: In the absence of a Bishop or priest, a deacon is competent to baptize. In the absence of any of the clergy Baptism may also, in cases of urgency, be administered by a layman, and in the absence of a man, by a woman.] The principles which underlie this system of Catholic order in the Church are important. The devolution of authority to minister through the episcopate safeguards the continuity of the Church's corporate life and tradition, and secures that ministerial functions shall be exercised in the name and by the authority of the Christian Society as a whole. Moreover through the ordered succession of the Bishops the tradition of ministerial authority is carried back certainly to sub- apostolic, and perhaps also actually to apostolic, times: it represents in principle Christ's commission to His Apostles--"As the Father hath sent Me, even so send I you." At the same time it is important that the doctrine of the ministry should not be allowed to become "sacerdotalist" in a wrong sense. The Christian priesthood is not in possession of any magical or exclusive powers. The essence of priesthood is the dedication of life as a whole to the service of GOD on behalf of others: and in this sense every Christian man is meant in his ordinary daily life and business to be a priest of GOD and a servant of his brethren. What the Church to-day needs most chiefly is a body of laymen who will take seriously their vocation. A layman is not a Christian of inferior type, on whose behalf the clergy are expected to display a vicarious spirituality: he is simply an unordained member of the people of GOD. The hope of the future is that laymen should do their part, not merely by supporting the efforts of the clergy, but by exercising their own proper functions as living members of Christ. The Church--and especially the Church of England--is in vital need of reform. The recently launched "Life and Liberty" Movement is a hopeful sign of the determination of a certain number of clergy and laity that reform shall be secured. In particular it is essential that the Church should recover freedom of self-government in spiritual things, and liberty to adapt her machinery and organization to changing needs, by the readjustment of her relation towards the State. This may or may not involve disestablishment, and disestablishment in turn, if it should take place, need not necessarily involve, but in practice would probably involve, some measure of partial disendowment. The Church must be prepared for all eventualities, and must be ready, should necessity arise, to take cheerfully the spoiling of her goods. For liberty is essential at all costs. In the movement for Life and Liberty, as in every other department of her work, the Church needs the co-operation of her laity. It is their duty both to be informed in ecclesiastical affairs, and to make their voices heard. It is part of the programme of Church reformers to give the laity, through elected representatives, a more effective voice in Church affairs. The administration of finance and the raising of funds for work both at home and abroad is more particularly their province, but there is no single department of Church affairs in which the layman ought not to have his share, though no doubt the Bishops in virtue of their office have a special responsibility in matters of doctrine. Certainly there is need of a much greater extension of lay preaching, and a freer recognition of the capacity of many laymen to lead the worship and intercessions of their brethren. The administration of the sacraments, with the partial exception of baptism, is reserved for those to whom it is committed: but this need not and does not apply to the ministries of preaching and of prayer. Clerical autocracy, where it exists, ought resolutely and firmly to be broken down. It has to be admitted that between clergy and laity at present there is a regrettable and widespread cleavage. The clergy are widely criticized, and it is certain that they have many faults. One who belongs to their number cannot help being conscious of some at least of the failings both of himself and of his class. But the faults are not all upon one side. It may be suspected that those who criticize the clergy with the greatest freedom are not always those who pray for them most earnestly. To affirm that the laity get, upon the whole, the clergy they deserve would be too hard a saying: but it is sometimes forgotten that the clergy are recruited from the ranks of the laity, and that, when not dehumanized by an undue professionalism of outlook, they are human. Many of them would be frankly grateful for friendly co-operation and criticism on the part of the lay members of their flocks. One of the difficulties about preaching is that the clergy in many instances do not really know what is in the layman's mind. The life of the Church in England will not proceed along healthy lines until there is greater mutual candour between laymen and clergy. At present laymen will not talk freely about matters of religion in the presence of the clergy because they imagine (often quite wrongly) that the latter would be shocked. It sometimes happens conversely that the clergy hesitate to express their real minds for fear that laymen would be shocked. This attitude of mutual reserve is hopeless. No Christian, lay or clerical, has any business to be shocked at any expression of opinion whatever, orthodox or unorthodox, whether in faith or in morals. Either side may disagree with the other; but either ought to be prepared to listen to what the other has to say. CHAPTER XII THE BIBLE The Bible is the "sacred Book" of Christianity, as the Koran is the sacred Book of Mohammedanism; with this difference, however, that Christianity, as the religion of the Spirit, can never be, like Mohammedanism, a "religion of the Book," any more than it can be, like ancient Judaism, a religion of the Law. The Biblical writings include two main collections of books, known as the Old Testament and the New Testament respectively, of which the latter alone is distinctively Christian. Intermediate between the two "Testaments" in point of date are the writings known as the "Apocrypha," which though inferior, for the most part, in spiritual value to the fully canonical books, and frequently omitted from printed editions of the Bible, are regarded by the Church as canonical in a secondary sense. The various books of the Bible originally became canonical, that is, were included in the "canon" or collection of sacred writings, on the ground that they were read aloud or recited in the course of Divine worship. The Old Testament canon comprises the books customarily read aloud in the Jewish synagogue, together with certain other writings associated with them. The books of the New Testament are a similar collection of early Christian writings which were read side by side with the Old Testament in Christian worship. The selection of these particular writings for the purpose was determined in part by the Church's recognition of their spiritual value and in part by the regard which was paid by the Christian community to the religious authority of those by whom they were believed to have been written. Speaking generally, we may say that the Old Testament is the religious literature of Judaism. It is the literary deposit of the spiritual life of a nation, the written record and monument of a progressive process of religious development. It begins at the level of folklore and primitive tribal cults, such as are portrayed or reflected, for example, in parts of the Pentateuch and in the Books of Judges and Samuel. It culminates, in the utterances of the greatest of the prophets and in many of the Psalms, at the highest levels of religious attainment which are discoverable anywhere in history prior to the coming of our Lord. The Old Testament will always have a value for Christianity: in part because many of the religious lessons which it conveys can never be superseded even by Christianity itself: in part because the study of it provides the general knowledge of Judaism, and of Jewish institutions and modes of thought, which is necessary for the proper understanding of the religious background of the Gospels, and of much else in the New Testament as well: in part also because the two revelations--the Jewish and the Christian--hang together, interlocking with one another as anticipation and fulfilment, in a manner which is singularly impressive. The various books of the Old Testament, nevertheless, require to be read by Christians with discrimination, and with a clear realization of their Jewish character. There is much in the Old Testament as it stands which is liable to mislead the simple and cause needless difficulty. There are, moreover, numerous passages, and not a few entire books, which except in the light of historical criticism and scholarly guidance are not really intelligible. But the study of the Old Testament as reinterpreted in our own generation by research and scholarship is a fascinating subject. It requires little in the way of technical equipment, and there is no reason in the world why it should be monopolized by specialists. To have even the most general acquaintance with the methods and results of critical study brings with it a great transformation of outlook. The Old Testament writers come to life again wonderfully when they are set in their proper historical context, and the result is a clear gain in spiritual values. The best general introduction to the whole subject is Dr. W. B. Selbie's book, _The Nature and Message of the Bible_ (Student Christian Movement, 3s. 6d.). Canon Nairne's volume, _The Faith of the Old Testament_ (Layman's Library, Longmans, 2s. 6d.) is an illuminating survey designed specially to bring out the religious value of the Old Testament, [Footnote: Those who may desire a more detailed and comprehensive treatment of the literary problems of the Old Testament should consult G. B. Gray, _A Critical Introduction to the Literature of the Old Testament_ (Duckworth, 2s. 6d.).] and for commentaries upon individual books _The Century Bible_ (T. C. and E. C. Jack, 3s. each volume) is to be recommended. The books of the New Testament are the classical literature of Christianity in a much fuller and more obvious sense. Here, again, there is much that apart from the use of a good commentary will be found hardly intelligible: but the greater part of the New Testament, and especially the Gospels, can be read with profit by the ordinary man apart from any extraneous aids. It is well to remember that S. Paul's Epistles were written at an earlier date than any of the Gospels, and that they represent the occasional correspondence of a hard-worked missionary. Of the Gospels the first three have much in common, and the Gospels of S. Matthew and S. Luke are based partly upon that of S. Mark. S. Mark is said to have been the companion of S. Peter, and is probably the author of the Gospel which bears his name. It may be taken to represent his reminiscences of S. Peter's preaching. The Gospel now known as that according to S. Matthew appears to be the work of a compiler who fitted into the framework of S. Mark's story a considerable amount of additional matter, drawn chiefly from a collection of "sayings of Jesus" which an early Christian writer declares to have been made by S. Matthew in Aramaic. S. Matthew's name, it is thought, was subsequently attached to the resulting document, since it contained a large preponderance of material derived from his book on our Lord's sayings. The name of the actual compiler of the first Gospel has not survived. S. Luke's Gospel is a compilation made upon somewhat similar lines, and is based, in large measure, upon the same two sources: but the author's researches extended also more widely, and his Gospel contains a large proportion of matter peculiar to itself, which critics commonly regard as being of high historical value. The author of the book was a Greek doctor who attended upon S. Paul, accompanying the latter in his travels, and writing the Acts of the Apostles as a second volume in continuation of his Gospel. The Acts is partly based upon a kind of diary which S. Luke kept of his experiences as S. Paul's companion and physician. It is probable that both the first and the third of our four Gospels were in existence shortly before, or at the latest very shortly after, the destruction of Jerusalem by the Romans in the year 70 A.D. The second Gospel, since they both drew upon it, must be even earlier. The Gospel according to S. John is of a somewhat later date, and bears a different character. It is reflective and meditative, and is penetrated throughout by a mystical symbolism. In many ways it suggests rather a spiritual interpretation of the significance of Jesus than a literal portrait of Him. Again, it is the product of a Greek rather than of a Jewish atmosphere, though its narrative presents so many touches of extraordinary vividness, and the author shows so exact a knowledge of Jewish institutions and conditions of life in Palestine, that it is difficult not to think that the book must have been written by a Jew who knew Judaism before its downfall. It is supposed that the writing dates from the closing years of the first century, and tradition declares that the author was S. John in old age at Ephesus. This statement is, however, in dispute, and the authorship of the Gospel is uncertain. In point of fact, it does not matter who the writer was. There is no one of the interpreters of Jesus who had drunk more deeply of His Spirit than had he: nor is there any of the books of the New Testament which brings Jesus closer to us than the Gospel according to S. John, or speaks home with greater power to the heart and affections of the simplest Christian. PART II THE PRACTICE OF THE CHRISTIAN RELIGION CHAPTER I THE CHRISTIAN AIM Christianity in practice means the dedication of life to the unselfish service of GOD and man, in the light of the ideals of Jesus Christ, and in the power of an inward spiritual life which is hid with Christ in GOD. The Christian, renouncing such merely worldly ideals as self- advancement, personal or family ambition, the accumulation of money, or the enjoyment, for their own sake, of the things which money can buy, is called to seek first and in all things GOD'S Kingdom and His righteousness, in the assurance that whatever may be really necessary for the advancement of this aim will in due course be added unto him. He is not to expect to find the practice of his religion to be, in a worldly sense, profitable; and the practice of his religion is to cover the whole of life. The desperate attempt to combine the service of GOD with that of Mammon is therefore to be abandoned. If riches increase, he is not to set his heart upon them. If poverty be his lot, he is to embrace poverty as a bride. The aim and object of his life is not to be to get his own will done, but to discover what for him is the will of GOD, and to do it. He is to be the slave of GOD in Christ, a living instrument in the hands of Another, called to co-operate in a purpose not his own, though a purpose which he is to embrace, and to _make_ his own, in a spirit of loyal sonship. This means, among other things, that life is to be interpreted in terms of vocation. It means that for every man there is a "calling," a particular line of life which GOD intends him to follow, a specific piece of service to GOD and to his neighbour which he is called upon to render. The motto of a Christian's life is to be the motto of his Master--"My meat is to do the will of Him that sent Me, and to accomplish His work." Gifts and capacities, aptitudes for any special work, are therefore "talents," to be used in accordance with the will and purpose of the Giver. Opportunities and endowments, whatsoever they may be, are opportunities and endowments for service. It does not necessarily follow from this that a realization of the truth of Christianity, and an awakening to the claims of religion, will lead to any outward change or radical alteration in the general conception of a man's life-work. It may or it may not do so. There are indubitably cases in which a man is called upon to abandon his previous career--to forsake prospects, however promising, or to renounce wealth and possessions, however entangling--in order to become (for example) a minister of the Church or a missionary of the Gospel, or to enter a religious order. Our Lord's command to the rich young ruler, that he should give up all that he had, in order to follow Christ along the paths of homelessness and poverty, is a call which sounds still with a literal force in the ears of a certain number of His disciples. The inner spirit, moreover, of detachment from the world and from the things of the world, the readiness to abandon wealth and worldly position if need so require, and the refusal to be ensnared by them, are in any case demanded of all. The vocation, however, of the majority of men is already determined by their circumstances, or by their training and general aptitudes. It is only the few, comparatively speaking, who are called to become monks or missionaries, or priests devoid of "prospects." The majority will best serve GOD and their neighbour by "carrying on" in their existing occupations: and in most cases they are incidentally called also, sooner or later, to matrimony. But GOD calls no man to idleness. It is the duty of every Christian, rich as well as poor, unless he be incapacitated by bodily sickness or infirmity, to be engaged in some work of general service to the community: and a man who proposes seriously to practise the Christian religion needs to ask himself, with regard to the work or occupation in which he is engaged, or by which he earns his bread, whether he can say truly that he believes it to be the work which his Father has given him to do: whether it can be interpreted, not simply as a means of livelihood, but as a service rendered in Christ's name to society at large. If it cannot so be interpreted, then plainly it is no work which a Christian should be doing. There are ways of making a living which, are definitely unchristian. The work of a shoe-black or of a tradesman or of an actor may be as true a piece of Christian service as that of a doctor or a bishop. The work of a burglar or of a bookmaker could not be so regarded. Christianity--it cannot be too strongly insisted--means the Christianization of life as a whole. It is in the daily round and the common task that Christ is most chiefly to be served. "Whatsoever ye do in word or in deed, do all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to GOD and the Father by Him." Religion is a wider thing than piety, and it is a false pietism which would regard it as consisting mainly of pious practices. The cultivation of the inner spiritual life by means of the practices of Christian devotion is indeed essential in its place and its degree. The life of the spirit languishes if it is not fed. But except these things issue in the practical service of Christ in daily life they are worse than futile. They degenerate either into formalism and hypocrisy, or into spiritual self- indulgence. "Herein is My Father glorified, that ye bear much fruit." "By their fruits ye shall know them." And the "fruits" of Christian living are to be discovered, not in the hours spent in devotion, but in the manifestation amid the activities of the market-place of that temper of righteousness and peace and joy in the Holy Ghost, and that spirit of unselfish service, which should be their normal product. What is needed is a wider conception of Churchmanship and a truer doctrine of vocation. All honest work in which a Christian can lawfully engage should be regarded as an expression of his Churchmanship--as truly work done for the Church of GOD in obedience to a vocation from on high as is the work of a priest or a teacher of religion. It is at least partly because the majority of laymen do not so interpret their work in life that in so many cases they are discovered to be in effect living for the sake of their leisure and regarding their daily work as uninteresting drudgery, with the result that life as a whole comes to be for them dreary and profitless and stale. A Christian man's life-work ought not to have the character of drudgery, but of sheer delight in GOD'S service. But is such an ideal really practicable? It is literally practicable to a greater extent than most men think. It ought to be practicable universally. At the same time there is no disguising the fact that large numbers of men to-day find themselves in circumstances to which such a doctrine cannot without palpable unreality be applied. The structure of existing society under modern industrial conditions forces multitudes, by an evil economic pressure, into mechanical, uncongenial, and soul-destroying occupations: and the conditions of some men's labour in the world as it is are such that it would be sheer blasphemy to regard them as a product of the will of GOD. The problem of the Christianization of the social order is one of the greatest of the tasks confronting the Christian Church. Its solution has hardly yet begun to be attempted. In the meantime the mass of Christian people, in virtue of their acquiescence, are accomplices in the denial to the disinherited classes of the conditions and opportunities which make life worth living for themselves. So long as it continues to be possible for a man who genuinely desires to learn and labour truly to get his own living to starve in the midst of plenty: so long as multitudes are constrained to work under conditions which rob their labour of all interest, of all idealism, and of all hope: so long as sweating, and destitution, and such conditions of life as obtain in the more densely crowded areas of our great towns continue to exist: so long will it be the duty of every Christian to be a social reformer, and to have a conscience permanently troubled with regard to wealth and social advantage. [Footnote: Mr. George Lansbury's _Your Part in Poverty_ (George Alien and Unwin, Ltd., Is.) is a book worth reading in this particular connexion.] Meanwhile the Christian ideal of life stands. It is the ideal of consecration to service. It means discipleship in Christ's school of unselfishness, both individual and corporate: for there is a selfishness of the family, of the class, or of the nation, which bears as bitter fruit in the world as does the selfishness of the individual. Christianity, in a word, means the carrying out into daily practice of the ideal of the _Imitatio Christi_, the imitation of Jesus Christ, in the spirit if not in the letter. It means that as He was, so are we to be in the world. It means that all things, whatsoever we do, are to be done in His Spirit and to His glory: that our every thought is to be led captive under the obedience of Christ. It means that we are to love GOD because GOD first loved us, and to love men because they are our brothers in the family of GOD: because love is of GOD, and every one that loveth is born of GOD and knoweth GOD. It means that we are to consecrate all comradeship and loyalty and friendship, all sorrow and all joy, by looking upon them as friendship and loyalty and comradeship in Christ, as sorrow and joy in Him. It means that we are to live glad, strong, free, clean lives as sons of GOD in our Father's House. It means also struggle and hardship. It means truceless war against the spirit of selfishness, against everything that tends to drag us down, against the law of sin in our own members. It means a truceless war against low ideals and tolerated evils in the world about us. It means soldiership in the eternal crusade of Christ against whatsoever things are false and dishonest and unjust and foul and ugly and of evil report. It is an ideal which, considered in isolation from the Christian Gospel of redemption and the power of the Holy Spirit, could only terrify and daunt a man who had a spark of honesty in his composition: and for this reason the mass of men refuses to take it seriously. It is an ideal which, in the case of all who do take it seriously, convinces them of sin. Nevertheless to lower the ideal, to abate one jot of its severity, to compromise, on the score of human weakness, though it were but in a single particular, the flawless perfection of its standard, were to prove false to all that is highest within us, and traitor to the cause of Christ. "Never, O Christ--so stay me from relenting--Shall there be truce betwixt my flesh and soul." CHAPTER II THE WAY OF THE WORLD The three traditional enemies of the Christian life are symbolized under the headings of the World, the Flesh, and the Devil, and the classification has a certain convenience. The "World" stands in this connexion for human society in so far as it is organized apart from Christ. It is obvious that "the way of the world," as represented by the general outlook of conventional society, is in many respects in manifest conflict with the principles of the Gospel. The existing social order is the product of a compromise between inherited influences and standards which are in a certain sense broadly Christian, and the natural man's instinctive selfishness in matters both individual and social. The conflict against the spirit of worldliness which should be one of the marks of a genuine Christian life is beset by peculiar difficulties, precisely because in a society which is in some respects partially Christian the issues are confused. Public opinion indubitably tolerates many things which should not be tolerated, and condones others which should not be condoned. But public opinion approves much that is good, and does lip-service to a variety of Christian ideals, even while reserving the reality of its devotion for the worship of success and material comfort. Perhaps it may be said that the most fundamental characteristic of essentially "worldly" opinion is absence of idealism. Worldliness is the principle of contentment with things as they are. Against worldliness, so defined, the Christian is committed to a conflict all along the line, since even in those regions of life and conduct in which the standards recognized by the world are right and good so far as they go, "the good is the enemy of the best." To rest content at any point with what has already been attained is fatal to all spiritual advance. It is, in effect, the death of the soul. Mr. William Temple has remarked that in the conflict of Christians against the Devil and the Flesh the public opinion of the Church, as visibly organized, is on their side, but that in their conflict with the World it is decidedly against them. That is an over-statement, but it conveys a truth. Undoubtedly the Church has made compromises with the World, a fact which arises partly as the result of the inclusion within her fold of a large proportion of merely nominal members whose Christianity is no more than an inherited or conventional tradition. A further point of importance is this. Two thousand years is not a long period in relation to the scale of the world's history as a whole, and Christianity is still a comparatively young religion. The problem of worldliness is mainly a problem of the relation of the Church to the social order; and there are reasons why it was natural that the working out of the Christian ideal of conduct should first have been developed in relation to the affairs of private and domestic life. Christians in the early days were a "little flock," surrounded by a society whose standards and conventions and beliefs were frankly pagan and hostile. So long as these conditions obtained the issues were plain: the contrast in ideals between Church and World stood out sharp and clear. The world, it was held, was ready to perish, and destined at no distant date to do so. "The whole world," writes S. John, "lieth in wickedness." The Church stood apart as the spiritual brotherhood of GOD'S elect who were called to assist at the obsequies of a world which was in process of passing away. "The world passeth away, and the lust thereof: but he that doeth the will of GOD abideth for ever." The words contain an eternal truth: but in their literal sense they expressed a mistaken judgment. The world--that is, secular society-- did not pass away. It is with us still. For a period of some three hundred years it persecuted the Church. At the end of that period it accepted baptism, but not its implications. The Church has been engaged ever since in the task of attempting to Christianize the heathen within her own borders. The Church was outwardly secularized: and the minority who could not tolerate the secularization of her ideals took refuge in the hermit's cell or in the cloister. In these retreats was developed the practice of Christianity as an art or science of individual sanctity, but at the cost of a certain aloofness from the rough and tumble of workaday life. The Christianity of the Middle Ages was fertilized from the cloister, with the result that the spiritual ideals even of those Christians who remained "in the world" tended to be coloured by the monastic tradition. The Christian man of the world who took seriously the practice of his religion aimed at reproducing at second hand the Christianity of the monk. The salvation of the individual soul tended to be regarded as the supreme end of Christian endeavour, rather than the service of the brethren. The Reformation, when it came, did nothing to diminish this individualism of the religious outlook, but rather accentuated it. The whole emphasis of Protestantism was thrown upon the life of the individual soul in relation to GOD, to the comparative neglect of the importance of the conception of membership in the Church. To the ordinary worldling the advent of Protestantism meant simply that he need no longer trouble to go to Mass or to Confession. The Protestant who took his religion seriously became a Puritan, a type resembling the monk of Catholicism in his attempted isolation from the world, yet lacking the peculiar otherworldly mysticism of the monkish character at its best, and having a peculiar knack of making religion appear repellent to the ordinary man. The emergence of the ideal of a genuinely social Christianity, aiming not at escape from the world by way of flight, but at the deliberate conquest of the world for Christ by the resolute application of Christian standards to the ordinary life of men in society, is of comparatively recent date. It began in this country with the writings of Kingsley and Maurice, and various living teachers both in England and in America have carried on their work. It is one of the misfortunes of Germany that she has had no corresponding movement. As a consequence we are confronted at the present time with the spectacle of various leaders of religious thought in Germany, too honest not to perceive the glaring contrasts between the way of the world and the precepts of the Gospel, deliberately maintaining the position that Christianity is solely adapted to be a religion of private life, and that Christian standards and ideals have no application as between class and class, or as between nation and nation. To adopt such an attitude is to abandon all hope of the redemption of society. It is to condemn the world in perpetuity to a fate of which the present war is the appropriate symbol. The war is, in effect, a kind of sacrament of the power of Antichrist. It is the outward and visible sign of the inward character and essence of a civilisation founded upon principles which are the opposite of those of the Gospel. Neither men nor nations, in the world as we have known it, have been wont to love their neighbours as themselves. The way of the world is, and has been, the way of selfishness. This is not any the less true because the world's selfishness has been to a considerable extent unconscious, and has arisen rather from absence of thought than from deliberate badness of heart. The world does not always realize how cruel are its ways towards the weak and the socially unfortunate, or towards those who, for whatever reason, transgress its code. For the world _has_ a code of its own, both in manners and in morals, though the basis of its code is convention, and its standard respectability rather than virtue. The world is very apt to show itself implacable towards those whom it regards as being beyond its pale, and to exhibit, in effect, the spirit and temper which, when manifested in the religious sphere, we know and loathe as Pharisaism. Pharisaism, like worldliness, has penetrated to an alarming extent into the Church of England. Parallel and proportionate to the world's selfishness is its cynicism. This also is largely unconscious. Lacking any true insight into spiritual realities, the world lacks vision and lacks hope. It presumes always that "the thing which has been, it is that which shall be." It beholds the evil that is done under the sun, and pronounces it inevitable. It fails to understand that to pronounce any evil inevitable is to be guilty of blasphemy against the GOD of heaven. Against the spirit of the worldly world, its selfishness and cynicism, its conventional judgments and shallowness of mind, the Christian is called deliberately to make war. The Church exists to be to the world and its ways a permanent challenge: to be the champion in all circumstances and times of righteousness and truth; to insist upon bringing to bear on human life in all its relationships, both corporate and individual, the spirit of brotherhood, which is the Spirit of Christ. It was a true instinct which led S. Ignatius Loyola to pray on behalf of the Order which he founded that it might be hated by the world. "Marvel not, my brethren, if the world hate you.... If ye were of the world, the world would love his own." If the world does not hate the Church it is not because the world has become Christian, but because worldliness has taken possession of the Church. The world to-day regards the Church as not worth hating, as a negligible quantity. When the Church is once more ready to be crucified, then the opposition of the world will be revived, and the Church will suffer martyrdom afresh. CHAPTER III THE SPIRIT AND THE FLESH Sins of the flesh include all forms of slackness and bodily self- indulgence. A Christian is called to assert the supremacy of the spirit over the flesh by controlling his bodily impulses and disciplining his desires. There is, therefore, a true Christian asceticism. But asceticism, in so far as it is genuinely Christian, is never an end in itself. It is a discipline which promotes efficiency. It is to be compared to an athlete's training, not to the self- mutilation of a fakir. There is in Christianity no doctrine of the unlawfulness of bodily pleasures in themselves. "The Son of Man came eating and drinking." For Christianity every creature of GOD in itself is good, and a man's bodily impulses are God-given endowments of his nature. What is essential is that their exercise should be controlled and subordinated to the higher purposes of the spirit, that they should be directed to their proper ends, and that they should not be allowed to get out of hand. Christians are not meant to be Puritans, but they are meant to be pure. The battle against fleshliness in all its forms is a battle which has to be fought and won in every Christian's life. Apart from the question of certain unmentionable forms of perverted sexual vice, the sinfulness of what are commonly classified as "sins of the flesh" consists in wrongful indulgence or lack of self-control in respect of that which in itself is legitimate and good. The Christian ideal is not abstinence, but temperance. A Christian will be temperate, for example, in sleep, food, alcohol, and tobacco. Intemperance means slavery to a habit, the loss of spiritual self- mastery, whereby the whole character is enervated, and efficiency, both physical and moral, is impaired. "All things are lawful," as S. Paul says, but a Christian is not to allow himself to be brought "under the _power_ of any." He is meant to live hard and to live clean. The practice of fasting, that is, of deliberate temporary self- discipline in these matters, even below the standard of what would normally be a reasonable indulgence, is a valuable means of asserting and retaining the self-mastery which is essential to Christian freedom. But fasting should not be allowed to become a mechanical observance, or erected into an unduly rigid law. The fish-dinner upon Fridays and other fast-days of the Church is, as a modern dignitary has remarked, innocuous; and it has the value which belongs to conformity to a rule or recommendation of the Christian brotherhood; but whether or not it is observed in practice, it is hardly adequate by itself to the purposes of Christian self-discipline. It appears to be a fairly widespread delusion in some sections of society that a Christian must necessarily be a teetotaller. The ideal Christian policy, here as elsewhere, if we may judge from the example of our Lord, would seem to be that of a temperate use of the gifts of GOD. It is unfortunate that in this country most of the societies which exist for the purpose of promoting temperance have virtually committed themselves to the confusion of temperance with total abstinence, and their fanaticism is, in the judgment of many persons, a hindrance to genuine reform. But it cannot reasonably be denied that drunkenness, and the still wider prevalence of an excessive drinking which falls short of actual drunkenness, is a frightful evil in the national life; and what is commonly known as the "Liquor Interest" plays a sinister part as an organized obstructive force standing in the way of needed reforms. The number of public-houses and drinking- bars in English towns and villages is monstrously out of proportion to any reasonable needs of the population: and it must be more than ordinarily difficult for brewers and publicans, under existing conditions, to resist the temptation to exploit for the sake of gain the weaknesses of others. A Christian need not be a teetotaller in order to have this problem upon his conscience, and to be ready to support, by his vote and influence, some considered and constructive policy of reform. A man who by experience finds that alcohol is to him personally a temptation will be wise if he becomes a teetotaller. "If thy hand or thy foot offend thee, cut it off." In certain social environments it may also be wise for a man to become a total abstainer, not in his own interests, but for the sake of others with whom he is brought into immediate contact. There can be no question but that drunkenness, which is a vice both degrading and repulsive in itself, is in many strata of English social life still far too lightly regarded. It is, moreover, worth remarking that even a degree of indulgence in alcohol which would commonly be regarded as falling well within the limit of temperance is regarded by some authorities as having the effect--which actual drunkenness certainly has--of stimulating sexuality: and when all is said, probably the most insistent of fleshly temptations, at least in the earlier years of manhood, are those which are connected with the life of sex. Many make shipwreck upon these rocks through lack of knowledge or want of thought; but neither thought nor knowledge will avail to safeguard a man's purity apart from sound moral principle: nor are even moral principles effectual in the hour of strong temptation apart from the grace of GOD. Christianity teaches that to every man there is entrusted, in virtue of his manhood, the seed of life as a divine treasure. It is meant not to be turned into a means of self-indulgence, or suffered to run riot in a blaze of passion, but to be restrained and safeguarded in purity against the day--if the day arrives--upon which a man is called to use it for the purpose for which it was given him, namely, that of bringing new lives into the world through union with a woman in pure marriage. Most men are sorely tempted to lack of self-control, and to the misuse of their sexual endowment in a variety of ways: and the maintenance of chastity--never an easy ideal--is made doubly difficult by the fact that in the existing social system marriage, except among the poorer classes, is commonly deferred until an age much later than that at which a man becomes physically mature, and also by the widespread prevalence, in masculine society, of a corrupt public opinion which regards sexual indulgence as morally tolerable, or even as essential to physical health. This latter doctrine, even were it as true as it is in fact false, would not in any case justify a man in taking advantage of a woman's ruin: but experience shows that there is no form of sin or indulgence which so effectually degrades a man's moral outlook, blunts his finer perceptions, and destroys the instinct of chivalry within him, as does the sin of fornication. The majority of those who practise promiscuous sexual intercourse are found to greet with frank and obviously genuine incredulity the assertion that there exists a not inconsiderable proportion of men whose lives are clean; while at the other end of the scale men of pure lives and clean ideals often find it difficult to believe that more than a small minority of peculiarly degraded individuals are clients of the women of the streets. The publication of the Report of the Royal Commission on Venereal Diseases, taken in conjunction with what is known or suspected with regard to the state of morals in the Army, has had the effect of drawing public attention to certain aspects of these problems. The Victorian convention of prudery has to a great extent been discarded. The subject is freely discussed, and it is generally acknowledged that something must be done. There is danger, however, lest public opinion, rightly concerned to promote measures for the eradication of disease, should ignore the essentially moral aspect of the matter. A Christian man is here concerned, not simply with the personal struggle against the temptations of sex in his own life, but with a further conflict on behalf of Christian ideals against the public opinion of the world. For if ecclesiastical opinion in the past has been both prudish and Pharisaic, the public opinion of the world is frankly cynical. Roughly speaking, the world expects the majority of women to be pure, acquiesces in the prostitution of the remainder, and treats masculine immorality as a venial offence. Numbers of would-be reformers--of the male sex--are not ashamed to advocate, in private if not in public, the establishment of licensed brothels on the continental model. It ought not to be necessary to say that no Christian man can possibly tolerate a proposal to give deliberate public sanction to the prostitution of a certain proportion of the nation's womanhood to the lusts of men, or acquiesce in the complacent sex-selfishness which is concerned only for the physical health of sinners of the male sex. The point of view of the Christian Church is determined by that of our Lord, who on the one hand numbered a reclaimed prostitute among His intimate friends, and on the other taught that whoso looketh on a woman to lust after her hath committed adultery already in his heart. The Church, therefore, differs from the world, first in holding that what is wrong for women is equally wrong for men, that there is one and the same standard in these matters for both sexes, namely, absolute sexual purity; and secondly, in extending equally to the fallen of both sexes the promise of Divine forgiveness upon identical terms, namely, genuine repentance, unreserved confession, desire and purpose of amendment, and faith in GOD. The world, which condones the iniquity of the man who falls, is apt to be uncommonly hard upon the fallen woman, forgetting that she also is a sister for whom Christ died, and that the woman who to-day plays the part of a temptress of men was originally, in the majority of cases, more sinned against than sinning. Very few of those who ply the trade of shame will be found to have adopted such a mode of life, in the first instance, of their own unfettered choice. We are members one of another, and society as a whole, which both creates the demand and provides the supply, must share the guilt of their downfall. This book is written primarily for men: and there are therefore other aspects of the life of sex upon which it is necessary to touch, though they are difficult matters to handle. It is well known that large numbers of men in boyhood, either through untutored ignorance of the physiology of their own bodies, or as a result of the corrupt example and teaching of others, become addicted to habits of solitary vice, in which the seed of life within them is deliberately excited, stirred up and wasted, to the sapping of their physical well-being and the defilement of their minds. Habits of self-abuse, when once they are established, are apt to be extremely difficult to break. The minds of their victims are liable to be morbidly obsessed by the physical facts of sex, and their thoughts continually directed into turbid channels. But it is possible by the grace of GOD to conquer, though there may be relapses before the final victory is won. It is important neither on the one hand to belittle the gravity of the evil, nor on the other to grow hopeless and despondent, but to have faith in GOD. It is also a counsel of common sense to distract the mind, so far as possible, in other directions, and to avoid deliberately whatever is likely to prove an occasion or stimulus to this particular form of sin. The battle of purity can only be successfully fought in the region of outward act if the victory is at the same time won in the region of thought and desire. Books and pictures, or trains of thought and imagination, which are either unclean in themselves, or are discovered by experience to be sexually exciting to particular individuals, ought obviously to be avoided by those concerned, and the mind directed towards the contemplation of whatsoever things are true and honest and just and pure and lovely and of good report. In the hour of strong temptation it is often best, instead of trying to meet the assault directly, to change the immediate environment, or in some other way to concentrate the mind: for example, to sit down and read a clean novel until the stress of the obsession is past. Physical cleanliness, plenty of healthy exercise in the open air (it is unfortunate that the circumstances of many men's lives do not give adequate opportunity for this), temperance in food, and especially--in the light of what has been said above--temperance in drink, are all incidentally of value as aids to the maintenance of purity. So also is the avoidance of the habit of lying in bed in a semi-somnolent condition after true sleep has finally departed. A Christian's body is meant to be a temple of the Holy Ghost, and no other spirit, whether of impurity or of sloth, should be allowed to have domination over him. Other sins there are which should not be so much as named among Christian men-those, namely, in which men with men work that which is unseemly, and burn with lust one towards another. It is necessary to refer to these, because their prevalence is said to be increasing. A considerable proportion of men are temperamentally liable to be sexually attracted by members of their own sex; and passionate friendships, in which there is an element which is in the last analysis sexual, are not uncommon both between boys and youths at the age of early manhood, and between men of mature age and adolescents. The true character of these relationships is not always in their initial stages obvious, even to those concerned. As a guiding principle it may be laid down that a friendship between members of the same sex begins to enter upon dangerous ground whenever an element of jealousy betrays itself, when there is a desire habitually to monopolize the other's company to the exclusion of third persons, or when the life and interests of the one appear to be disproportionately wrapped up in the concerns and doings of the other. Friendships of this character are always selfish and may all too easily become impure. It is the business of a Christian man to be on his guard and to love his male friends not as a woman is loved and not in a spirit of selfish monopoly, but with the pure and clean and essentially unselfish affection of Christian manhood. A word may be said, lastly, with regard to prurient and polluted talk and unclean stories. Against these a Christian man will do well firmly and resolutely to set his face. Such things defile the mind. They are injurious both to him that hears and to him that speaks, in that they tend to engender a mental atmosphere in which the suggestions of actual vice are likely to meet with an enfeebled power of resistance. Of course it is possible to be too tragical on the subject of "language," and to exaggerate the harm done by "smoking-room" stories. But whatever is definitely unclean is definitely evil, and should be both avoided and discouraged. To assume, however, a pious demeanour and to appear to be shocked is a fatal method of protest. Christians have no business to be shocked, nor are they meant to be prigs. There are other forms of social pressure which are more effective. It is, moreover, sometimes possible to combine moral reprobation with a sense of humour. CHAPTER IV THE WORKS OF THE DEVIL The devil is from one point of view a figure of Jewish and Christian mythology. The Jews, like other early peoples, believed in the existence of evil spirits or demons, to whose malignant agency they ascribed various diseases, both functional and organic, and in particular those unhappy cases of obsession, fixed idea, and multiple personality, which we should now class under the general head of insanity, and treat in asylums for the mentally deranged. The New Testament writings are full of this point of view, which is of course largely foreign to our minds to-day. The ordinary Englishman is not a great believer in devils or spirits of evil: though he does in some instances believe in ghosts, and is inclined to the practice of what in former ages was called necromancy--the attempt to establish an illicit connexion with the spirits of the departed--under the modern name of psychical research. There are, no doubt, some forms of psychical research which are genuinely scientific and legitimate. It is probable enough that there exists a considerable area of what may be called borderland phenomena to which scientific methods of inquiry may be found applicable, and which it is theoretically the business of science to investigate. But it is a region in which the way lies readily open to all kinds of superstition and self-deceit. The pursuit of truth for its own sake is essentially a religious thing: but the motives of many amateur dabblers in psychical research are far from being truly religious or spiritual. Much popular spiritualism, whether it assumes the form of table-turnings, of spirit-rappings, or of mediumistic seances, is thoroughly morbid and undesirable, and the Christian Church has rightly discouraged it. It is not, however, necessary to believe literally in the devil, or in devils--concerning whose existence many persons will prefer to remain agnostic--in order to find in the figure of the devil, as he appears in Biblical and other literature, a convenient personification of certain forms of evil. There is an atmosphere of evil about us, a Kingdom of Evil, over against the Kingdom of Good: and there are suggestions and impulses of evil which from time to time arise in our minds, which--whatever may be the literal truth about them--not infrequently present the appearance of having been prompted by some mysterious external Tempter. Certainly deeds have been done in the present war which can only be described as devilish. The war has revealed on a large scale and in unmistakable terms the evil of which the heart of man is capable, and how thin in many cases is the veneer which separates the outwardly civilized European from the primitive savage. "For this purpose was the Son of GOD manifested, that He might destroy the works of the devil." And by the works of the devil we may understand especially cruelty, malice, envy, hatred and all uncharitableness, the spirit of selfishness which wars against love, and the spirit of pride which ignores GOD. We see these things exhibited upon the large scale in the conspicuous criminals among mankind, whom we are sometimes tempted to regard as devils incarnate. We need to be on our guard against the beginnings of them, and indeed in many cases their actual presence in an undetected but fairly developed form, in ourselves. Christian men are to be kindly affectioned one towards another in brotherly love: in honour preferring one another--which is easier to say than to do. They are to refrain from rendering evil for evil, and to learn under provocation to be self-controlled. They are to be in charity with all men, and so far as it lies within their own power (for it takes two to make peace, as it takes two to make a quarrel) they are to live peaceably with all men. Wrath and clamour, lying and evil-speaking, back-biting and slandering, are all of the devil, devilish. Contrary to the works of the devil, which may be summed up under the three headings of lying, hatred, and pride, are the Christian ideals of truthfulness, love, and humility, with regard to each of which a few words may usefully be said. (i) The devil is described in the New Testament as "a liar and the father thereof." A Christian is to be true and just in all his dealings, abhorring crookedness: for the essence of lying is not inexactitude in speech, but deceitfulness of intention. Christian veracity means honesty, straightforwardness, and sincerity in deed as well as in word. A writer of fiction is not a liar: to improve in the telling an anecdote or a story is not necessarily to deceive others in any culpable sense; and moralists have from time to time discussed the question whether there may not be circumstances in which to tell a verbal lie is even a moral duty--_e.g._ in order to prevent a murderer or a madman from discovering the whereabouts of his intended victim. But casuistical problems of this kind do not very frequently arise, and in all ordinary circumstances strict literal veracity is the right course to pursue. [Footnote: Of course such social conventions as "Not at home," "No trouble at all," or "Glad to see you," "No, you are not interrupting me," etc., are hardly to be classed as "lies," since they do not as a rule seriously mislead others, but are merely an expression of the will to be civil.] Christian truthfulness, however, is in any case a much wider thing than merely verbal truth-telling: it implies inward spiritual reality, a genuine desire to see things as they are, a thirst of the soul for truth, and a hatred of shams. The worst form of lying is that in which a man is not merely a deceiver of others but is self-deceived, and suffers from "the lie in the soul." The religion of Christ is always remorselessly opposed to every form or kind of humbug or of sham. Jesus Christ is the supreme spiritual realist of history. In His view the "publican" or acknowledged sinner is preferable to the Pharisee or hypocrite for the precise reason that the former is a more genuine kind of person than the latter. And to tell the truth in this deeper sense, that is, genuinely to face realities and to refuse to be put off with shams, to see through the plausibilities and to detect the hollowness of moral and social pretences and conventionalities, to have, in short, the spiritual and moral instinct for reality, is a much harder thing than to be verbally veracious. The true veracity can come only from Him who is the Truth: it is a gift of the Spirit, and proceeds from GOD who knows the counsels of men's hearts, and discerns the motives and imaginations of their minds. It follows that just as every lie is of the devil, so all truth, of whatever kind, is of GOD. The Lord is a God of Knowledge, and every form of intellectual timidity and obscurantism is contrary to godliness. There can never be any opposition between scientific and religious truth, since both equally proceed from GOD. The Christian Church is ideally a society of free-thinkers, that is, of men who freely think, and the genuine Christian tradition has always been to promote learning and freedom of inquiry. It is worth remembering that the oldest and most justly venerable of the Universities of Europe are without exception in their origin ecclesiastical foundations. If the love of truth and the spirit of freedom which inspired their inception has at particular epochs in their history been temporarily obscured, if there is much in the ecclesiasticism both of the past and of the present which is reactionary in tendency and spirit, at least there have never been lacking protesting voices, and the authentic spirit of the Gospel tells always upon the other side. "Ye shall know the truth," says a New Testament writer, "and the truth shall make you free." [Footnote: The manifestations of the persecuting spirit and temper are not confined to the sphere of religion; the intolerance of the platform or of the press can be as bigoted as that of the pulpit: and secular governments also can persecute--not only in France or in Prussia. That it is part of the mission of Christianity to cast out the evil spirit of persecution, to destroy intolerance as it has destroyed slavery, is none the less true, in spite of the fact that both slavery and persecution have in the past found Christian defenders.] (ii) In the second place, hatred is of the devil, and love is of Christ: the Christian is to love even his enemies. In a time of war, that is to say, whenever actual enemies exist, the natural man discovers in such an ideal only an immoral sentimentalism, and the doctrinaire pacificist occasionally uses language which gives colour to the charge. But Christianity has nothing in common with sentimentalism, and Christian is no merely sentimental affection which ignores the reality of evil or explains away the wrongfulness of wrong. In order to love his enemies it is not necessary for a Christian to pretend that they are not really hostile, to make excuses for things that are inexcusable, or to be blind to the moral issues which may be at stake. It has rightly been pointed out that "Love your enemies" means "Want them to be your friends: want them to alter, so that friendship between you and them may become possible." More generally what is meant is that the Christian man is by the grace of GOD, to conquer the instinct of hatred and the spirit of revenge within his own heart, to be willing to serve others (his enemies included) at cost to himself in accordance with the will of GOD, to desire on behalf of all men (his enemies included) the realization of their true good. For wrongdoers chastisement may be the truest kindness. To allow a man, or a nation, to pursue an evil purpose unchecked would be no real act of love even towards the nation or the individual concerned. To offer opposition, if necessary by force, may in certain circumstances be a plain duty. That which we are to love, in those whose immediate aspect and character is both unlovely and unlovable, is not what they are, but what they are capable of becoming. We are to love that element in them which is capable of redemption, the true spiritual image of GOD in man, which can never be totally effaced. We are to remember that for them also the Son of GOD was crucified, that we also have need of forgiveness, and that "GOD commendeth His own love towards us, in that, while we were yet sinners, in due time Christ died for the ungodly." (iii) The third great manifestation of the spirit and temper which is of the devil, devilish, is pride, which by Christian writers upon these subjects is commonly regarded as the deadliest of the so-called "deadly sins," on the ground that it logically involves the assertion of a false claim to be independent of GOD, and is therefore fatal in principle to the religious life. Pagan systems of morality distinguish between false pride, the foolish conceit of the man who claims for himself virtues and capacities which he does not in fact possess, and proper pride, the entirely just appreciation by a man of his own merits and accomplishments at neither more nor less than their true value. The Christian ideal of humility is apt from this point of view to appear either slavish or insincere. The issue between Christian and pagan morals here depends upon the truth or falsehood of the Christian doctrine of GOD and of His relation to man. Once let a man take seriously the avowal that "It is He that hath made us, and not we ourselves," once let him grant the position that his life belongs to GOD and not to himself, and concur in the judgment of spiritual experience that whatever is good in him is the result not of his own efforts in independence of his Maker, but of the Divine Spirit operative within him, and it becomes obvious that "boasting"--as S. Paul expresses it--"is excluded." At the same time Christian humility is not self-depreciation. It has nothing in common either with the spirit of Uriah Heep, or with the false diffidence which refuses on the ground of personal insufficiency a task or vocation to which a man is genuinely called. These are both equally forms of self-consciousness. Humility is forgetfulness of self. The true pattern and exemplar of humility is the Christ, who claimed for Himself the greatest role in the whole history of the world, simply on the ground that it was the work which His Father had given Him to do. "I seek not Mine own glory: there is One that seeketh and judgeth." The secret of humility is devotion to the will of GOD. CHAPTER V THE KINGDOM OF GOD Christianity in the last three chapters has been considered on its negative side as involving a conflict against temptation. But the Christian ideal is positive rather than negative. We have only to think for a moment of the character and life of Christ in order to realize how ludicrously impoverished a conception of the Gospel righteousness is that which regards it as exhausted by the meticulous avoidance of sin. "Christian purity," it has been said, "is not a snowy abstinence but a white-hot passion of life towards GOD." The same might be said of other Christian virtues. Positively regarded, the Christian ideal of life means sonship towards GOD and citizenship in His Kingdom. The precise signification of the phrase, "Kingdom of GOD," or "Kingdom of Heaven," in the language of the New Testament has been the theme of controversy and discussion among scholars. It is impossible to enter here into the technicalities of the dispute. Broadly speaking, it may be laid down without much fear of contradiction that the Kingdom of GOD means the effectual realization, in every department of human life and upon a universal scale, of the sovereignty of GOD as Christ reveals Him. It is the vision of the goal of human history. It is meant to be a leading motive and inspiration of Christian life. "I will not cease from mental strife, Nor shall my sword sleep in my hand, Till we have built Jerusalem In England's green and pleasant land." It is quite true that, according to the thought of the New Testament writers, the mystic Jerusalem is not a city built by mortal men upon this earth, but something which is wholly the gift of GOD, a city not made with hands, descending from GOD out of heaven. The Kingdom of GOD in its fulness is no product of human striving. It is the achievement of a Divine purpose, the manifestation in the end of the days of the completed mystery of the Divine Will. Nevertheless it is the mission of the Church to prepare the way of the Kingdom, and it is for Christian men to live as sons of the Divine Kingdom even now, that is, as men in whose hearts and lives GOD and none other is enthroned as King and Lord. This means that everything that is good in human life is to be redeemed by being offered to GOD, and that everything that is vile and evil is to be eliminated and cast out. "The Son of Man shall send forth His messengers, and they shall gather out of His Kingdom all things that offend." "There shall in no wise enter into it anything that defileth, neither whatsoever worketh abomination, or maketh a lie." "The Kingdom of GOD is righteousness and peace and joy in the Holy Ghost." The ideal of the Christian life, therefore, is something infinitely richer and more positive than the merely negative morality of the Ten Commandments. It is the ideal of the Divine Kingdom. It is a positive devotion to the will of GOD. It means co-operation with the Divine will and purpose, a will and a purpose which, by the patient operation of the Divine Spirit, is in the course of world-history slowly but surely being worked out, amid all the immediate chaos and welter of events, to its goal in the revelation of the Jerusalem which is from above. That is why the Christian is bidden to pray continually, "Thy Kingdom come, Thy will be done, in earth as it is in heaven." If a man does not want the Divine Kingdom, or does not believe in it, he ought not to pray for it. If he does want it and pray for it, he ought also to work for it. And though no man may fully understand it, yet if a man is to pray for it and work for it at all, he needs to have at least some partial understanding of what it means. It is worth while, therefore, instead of dismissing the idea as a vague dream or an empty phrase, to try and fill it with some measure of positive meaning for us men here and now. What is the will of GOD for humanity? And what is meant by preparing the way of the Lord? Some things at least we may say are certainly included in the will of GOD, and some things are as certainly excluded. "It is not the will of your Father which is in heaven that one of these little ones should perish." A Christian Church which took seriously its vocation to go before the Lord and to prepare His ways would be effectively and vigorously concerned with problems so prosaic as the rate of infantile mortality and the allied questions of housing and sanitation, with the insistence that the conditions of life among the poorer classes of the community shall be such as make decent living possible, and with the provision of a minimum of leisure and of genuine opportunities of liberal education for all who have the will and the capacity to profit by them. The combined ignorance and apathy of the people of England with regard to questions of education, which has made possible the shelving of Mr. Fisher's Education Bill in deference to the opposition of vested interests, is little to the credit of the Christian Church in these islands, and grievously disappointing to those who had hoped at last for a real instalment of constructive reform. [Footnote: It is now stated that the Bill is to be reintroduced and passed, with certain modifications. It is to be hoped that the modifications will not be such as to destroy its effectiveness as an instrument of real reform. It remains true that the Bill was imperilled by the apathy and ignorance of the rank and file of Churchmen and Christians generally, though it is fair to say that the Bishops demonstrated unanimously in its favour.] A system of education, moreover, which was truly Christian, would provide not merely for the training of mind and body, and for instruction--on the basis of some inter-denominational modus vivendi yet to be achieved--in morality and religion. It would secure equally for the children of all classes opportunities for the training of the aesthetic faculties, for the cultivation of art and imagination, for the filling of life with colour and variety and movement. The intolerable ugliness of the domestic architecture of our cities and towns is a totally unnecessary offence to GOD and man; and the drabness and monotony of the life of huge masses of the population, who find in the rival attractions of the gin-palace and the cinema the only means of distraction at present open to them--this also is something which cannot possibly be regarded as being in accordance with the will of GOD. The redemption of society from all that at present makes human life sordid or hideous is a real part of what the ideal of the Kingdom means. It is a part of the task laid upon the Christian Church in preparing the way of the Lord and making straight His paths. Included also in the will of GOD for humanity is the evangelization of the world, the perfecting of the Church, the bringing of all nations and races into a spiritual unity in Christ Jesus. Christianity claims by its very nature to be the absolute religion: the climax and fulfilment of the whole process of man's religious quest: the synthetic and unifying truth, in which whatever is true and positive and permanently valuable in the religious systems of the non-Christian world is gathered up and made complete. Of Christ it has been written that "How many soever be the promises of GOD, in Him is the yea." In Christ is the fulfilment of the unconscious prophecies of the religions of the heathen world, nor is there any true solution of the problems of comparative religion except this. The Christian Church is in principle and of necessity missionary, and apart from the vitalizing breath of the missionary spirit the life of the Church languishes and dies. But the true spirit and method of Christian missions is not a narrow proselytism. There are indeed things in many of the lower religions of the world which are dark and evil. There are regions of the earth which are full of base and cruel and degrading superstitions, immoral rites and practices against which the Church of Christ can only set its face, and with which it can make no terms. These are works of the devil which the Son of GOD was manifested to destroy. But there is much in the higher religious thought of paganism which Christ comes not to destroy but to fulfil, and Christianity can fulfil and interpret to the higher religions of paganism just that which is truest and most positive in their own spiritual message. Conversely, it is probable that there are in Christianity itself elements which will only be fully interpreted and understood when the spiritual genius of nations at present pagan has made its proper contribution to Christian thought. For our own sake as well as for theirs it is important that the nations should be evangelized and brought to a knowledge of the truth. When we say the Lord's Prayer we are praying, among other things, for the success of Christian Missions. And if Christianity contains within itself the true solution of the problem of comparative religion, it contains also, in germ and potentiality, the solution of the problems of race and caste, and of the international problem also. Not until men have learnt the secret of brotherhood in Christ will the white and the coloured races treat one another as brothers. Not until the nations, as nations, are genuinely Christian and have learnt, in their dealings one with another, to manifest the spirit of unselfishness and love, will the day be in sight when they shall beat their swords into ploughshares and be content to learn war no more. This too, if the Gospel means anything at all, is part of the will of GOD for the human race. It is part of what is involved in the prayer, "Thy will be done in earth, as it is in heaven." It is an integral and vitally important element in the Christian hope of the Kingdom. The redemption of society, the evangelization of the world, the bringing together into the corporate wholeness of a world-wide Catholic Church of the fragmentary Christianity of the existing multitude of sects, the elimination of war from the earth, and the breaking down, as the result of a conscious realization of human unity in Christ, of the dividing barriers of colour and race and caste-all these are essential elements in the Christian vision. The man of the world may, and probably will, pronounce each and all of them to be chimerical, the baseless fabric of a dream. He will find no thoughtful man who is genuinely Christian to agree with him. For these things are, quite certainly, part of the will of GOD for humanity. They are involved of necessity in any effectual realization in human life of the sovereignty of the Father who is revealed in Christ. And because GOD is GOD, the goal, for the Christian man, is within the horizon-"The Kingdom of heaven is at hand." In any case, be the goal near or be it far off, it is as a citizen of that Kingdom, and of none other, that the Christian man will set himself to live. He will enthrone GOD in his own heart as King and Lord, and will hold fast the heavenly vision which it has been given to him to see. "As we look out into the future," says a modern writer,[Footnote: The Rev. W. Temple, in an address delivered at Liverpool on "Problems of Society" in 1912, and published by the Student Christian Movement in _Christ and, Human Need._] "we seem to see a great army drawn from every nation under heaven, from every social class, from every section of Christ's Church, pledged to one thing and to one thing only-the establishment of Christ's Kingdom upon earth by His method of sacrifice and the application of His principle of brotherhood to every phase of human life. And as they labour there takes shape a world much like our own, and yet how different! Still individuals and communities, but the individual always serving the community and the community protecting the individual: still city and country life, with all their manifold pursuits, but no leading into captivity and no complaining in our streets: still Eastern and Western, but no grasping worldliness in the West, no deadening pessimism in the East: still richer and poorer, but no thoughtless luxury, no grinding destitution: still sorrow, but no bitterness: still failure, but no oppression: still priest and people, yet both alike unitedly presenting before the Eternal Father the one unceasing sacrifice for human life in body broken and blood shed: still Church and World, yet both together celebrating unintermittently the one Divine Service, which is the service of mankind. And in that climax of a vision, which, if we are faithful, shall be prophecy, what is it that has happened? "'The kingdoms of this world have become the Kingdom of our GOD and of His Christ.'" CHAPTER VI CHRISTIANITY AND COMMERCE This chapter ought properly to be written by a layman who is also a Christian man of business. It is inserted here mainly to challenge inquiry and to provoke thought. The writer has no first-hand acquaintance either with business life or with business methods. He desires simply to chronicle an impression that the level of morality in the business world has been declining in recent years, and that the more thoughtful and candid of Christian laymen in business are beginning to be deeply disquieted. It is not uncommon to be confronted by the statement that it is impossible in modern business life to regulate conduct by Christian standards. The impression exists that if large numbers of business men abstain from the outward observances of religion, it is in many cases because they are conscious of a lack of correspondence between Sunday professions and weekday practice, and have no desire to add hypocrisy to existing burdens upon conscience. The clergy are by the circumstances of their calling sheltered from the particular difficulties and temptations which beset laymen in the business world. Their exhortations are apt to sound in the ears of laymen abstract and remote from life. If the situation has been diagnosed correctly the matter is serious. What is suggested is not that men to-day are deliberately more unprincipled than were their fathers, but that modern conditions have made the way of righteousness more difficult. Things have been speeded up. The competitive struggle has been intensified. Men are beset, it has been said, by a "moral powerlessness." They are "as good as they dare be." Absorbed in money-making, and pressed hard by unscrupulous rivals, they cannot afford to scrutinize too narrowly the social consequences of what they do, or the strict morality of the methods which they employ. Honesty, as experience demonstrates, is by no means always the best policy from a worldly point of view. "The children of this world are in their generation wiser than the children of light." This being so, it is to be feared that men are apt to prefer the wisdom of the serpent to the harmlessness of the dove. Moreover the man of business in the majority of cases does not stand alone. He is a breadwinner on behalf of others. Very commonly he regards it as a point of honour to refrain from disclosing to those at home his business perplexities and trials. It is assumed that they would not be understood, or that in any case it is unfair to burden wife and children with financial troubles. In the result it sometimes happens that a man's foes are found to be they of his own household, and that for the sake of wife and child he stoops to procedures which his own conscience condemns, and which those for whose sake he embarks upon them would be the first to disapprove. A wife, it may be suggested, ought to share the knowledge of her husband's difficulties, and to be willing, if need so require, to suffer loss and diminution of income as the price of her husband's honour. A wife takes her husband in matrimony "for poorer" as well as "for richer," for sickness and poverty as well as for health and wealth. It is a tragedy that in modern marriages too often only the more pleasurable alternative is seriously meant. Enough has been said to make it evident that in the world of modern business there is a battle to be fought on behalf of Christ. Precisely for the reason that the vocation of a Christian in this sphere is in some ways the most difficult it is also the most necessary. There is a call for courage and consecration, for hard thinking and readiness for sacrifice, and from the nature of the case it must be mainly a laymen's battle. There may have to be financial martyrdoms for the sake of Christ before the victory is won. But the prize and the goal is worth striving for, for it is nothing less than the redemption of a large element in human life from the tyranny of selfishness and greed. [Footnote: It may, of course, be argued that so long as the competitive system prevails in the business world, a Christian man in business must compete, just as in the existing state; though in an ideally Christian world competition would be replaced by co-operative and war would be unknown. This is perfectively true. But it should be possible, nevertheless, to hold fast the Christian ideal as a regulative principle even under present conditions. Only in proportion as this is done is the redemption of business life a possibility.] In principle the issues are clear enough. The interchange of commodities is a service rendered to the community. It ought to be so regarded, and the service rendered, rather than the gain secured, should be its inspiration and motive. The service of man is a form of the service of GOD, and the operations of financiers and business men ought to be capable of interpretation as forms of social service. It is only as this spirit is infused into the lives and practice of men in business that the world of business can be saved from degenerating into a soulless mechanism, dominated by the idea of purely selfish profit, or a tissue of dishonest speculation and sordid gambling. The business man, like any other servant of the community, is entitled to a living wage. He is not entitled either by chicanery and trickery, or by taking advantage of the needs of others and his own control of markets, to become a "profiteer." Profiteering in time of war is condemned by the common conscience. It is equally to be condemned in time of peace. The Christian man in business will stand for integrity and just dealing, for human sympathy and the spirit of service, for the renunciation of profits which are unreasonable and unfair. His function is not to exploit the community in his own personal or sectional interests, but to be a servant of the Christian commonwealth. Some procedures and some methods of making money the Christian man will feel himself debarred from employing. For the rest what is needed is mainly a change of heart, a shifting of emphasis, a modification of the inward spirit and motive of business life. CHAPTER VII CHRISTIANITY AND INDUSTRY Labour problems have always existed, but the development of industrialism as we know it to-day is comparatively modern. It dates from the introduction of machinery and mechanical transport, and coincided in its beginnings with the vogue of the so-called "Manchester School" in political and economic theory. The modern world of industry has been built up by the enterprise of capitalists working upon the basis of unrestricted competition. Joint-stock companies and "trusts" are simply capitalistic combinations for the exploitation of industrial opportunities upon a larger scale. The economic theorists of the Manchester School regarded wages as necessarily governed by the working of the "iron law" of supply and demand. It was the "interest" of the employer to buy such labour as was required at as cheap a rate as possible. It was assumed that in this, as in other matters of "business," his procedure must be determined wholly by self-interest, to the exclusion of "sentimental" considerations. Individual employers might be better than their creed, and in the smaller "concerns" the relations between employer and employed were often humanized by personal knowledge and intercourse. With the advent of the joint-stock company this no longer held good. "A corporation has no bowels." Directors were not personally in contact with their workpeople, and their main consideration was for their shareholders. The whole tendency of the industrial order of society as it developed was in the direction of the exploitation of the workman in the interests of "capital." It was not that members of the employing class were consciously inhuman. It was simply that they were blinded to the human problems which were involved. They had become accustomed to regard as natural and inevitable a wage-slavery of the many to the few. Labour was a commodity in the market. The workman was a unit of labour. Regarded from the point of view of Capital he represented simply the potentiality of so many foot-pounds of more or less intelligently- directed energy _per diem_. His life as a human being, apart from the economic value of his labour, was from the "business" point of view irrelevant. The system was based upon a lie. "Treat human beings as machines as much as you will, the fact remains that they are incurably personal." The wage-slaves of the modern world asserted their personality, and the modern Socialist-Labour Movement is the result. The forces of organized labour have won some notable victories. They are a recognized power in the land. There are those who hope, and those who fear, that they will in the end become socially and politically omnipotent. It is now generally recognized that society prior to the war was on the brink of a struggle between the classes of great bitterness, and that the social condition of the country after the war is likely to be fraught with formidable possibilities. There are many observers who regard a social revolution, in one form or another, as inevitable. Much, no doubt, will depend upon the temper of the returning troops, both officers and men. That men and officers have learnt to know and to respect one another upon the battlefield is acknowledged, but those who imagine that herein is contained a solution of social and labour problems are likely to prove grievously disappointed. A great deal of nonsense is being talked about the effects of "discipline" upon the men. Military discipline has its admirers: but men of mature years and civilian traditions who in the present conflict have served _in the ranks_ of His Majesty's Army are not included among their number. They have submitted to discipline for the period of their military service. They are quite able to recognize that it is essential to the efficiency of the army as a fighting machine. But they conceive themselves to have been fighting for freedom: and their own freedom and that of their children and of their class is included in their eyes among the objects for which they fight. They will be more than ever jealous, after the war, of their recovered liberties, and determined to assert them. It is probable that one result of demobilization will be an enormous accession of strength to the ranks of the Socialist and Labour parties. The "class war" with which society was threatened before the European War broke out is not likely to be a less present danger when "that which now restraineth" is removed by the conclusion of peace. What in relation to these problems is the message of the Christian Church? The distinctively Christian ethic is based not upon self- assertion but upon self-sacrifice, not upon class distinctions but upon brotherhood. "Let no man seek his own, but each his neighbour's good." The principle is of corporate as well as of individual application. In an ideally Christian society, the interests of "Labour" would be the sole concern of "Capital," the interests of "Capital" the sole concern of "Labour": and the message of the Church to the contending parties should be, now as always, "Sirs, ye are brethren." Neither party, however, is likely at present to pay much heed to such a message, which is apt to sound like an abstract and theoretical truism remote from the actualities of life. In point of fact, the large sections of the population who live permanently near or below the poverty line are largely precluded by lack of leisure from entering into the Christian heritage of the spiritual life, and are too much obsessed by the daily struggle for material existence to have patience with exhortations to regard with sympathy either the temptations or the good intentions of the well-to-do. The latter in turn are apt to resent any attempt to stir in them a social conscience with regard to the problems of poverty or the fundamental causes of labour "unrest," to regard the security of dividends as conveniently guaranteed by the laws of GOD, and to hold, in a general way, that everything has hitherto been ordered for the best in the best of all possible worlds. The Church--and more particularly the Church of England--is commonly regarded both by "Labour" and by "Capital" as traditionally identified with the Conservative Party in politics. The Church-going classes love to have it so, and the world of Labour not unnaturally holds aloof. It is nevertheless sufficiently obvious that the future of civilization after the war will be largely in the hands (or at the mercy) of organized Labour. And it is worth remembering that our Saviour died not for the rich only, but for the poor, having moreover Himself lived and worked as a labouring Man. There are those who regard the spirit of idealism and world-wide brotherhood by which the Labour Movement is inspired as the most profoundly Christian element in the life of the modern world, and the existing cleavage between Labour and the Church as a tragedy comparable only to the tragedy of the war. It is the plain duty of a Christian man to do what in him lies to remedy this cleavage, to think hard and honestly about social problems from a Christian point of view, and to make it his business to have an adequate understanding and sympathy with the real character and motives of Labour aspirations and ideals. CHAPTER VIII CHRISTIANITY AND POLITICS Politics at their worst are a discreditable struggle between parties and groups for selfish, and sectional ends, full of dishonesty and chicanery and corruption. It is often recognized at the present time as desirable that none should be for party, but all for the state. The Christian ideal goes further than this: it is that none should be for party, but all for the Kingdom of GOD, and for the state only in so far as the state is capable of being made the instrument of that higher ideal. The Christian man is not to hold aloof from political life, but to seek, so far as his personal effort and influence can be made to tell, to Christianize the political struggle. In every contested election he is bound to think out in the light of Christian ideals the issues which are at stake, without either prejudice or heat, and to register his vote in accordance with his conscience under the most solemn sense of responsibility before GOD. He is bound, of course, to be a reformer, standing for cleanness of methods, probity of motives, honest thinking, class unselfishness, and the elimination of abuses and malpractices. He will tend in most cases to be a cross- bencher, in the sense of being independent of party caucuses and concerned only for social and political righteousness. A Christian man who has leisure and opportunity can render enormous service by going into politics, more especially into municipal politics, which are too often surrendered to the tender mercies of corrupt, narrow-minded, or interested local wire-pullers. There is an enormous field of unselfish social service and opportunity lying open to Christian laymen in this connexion. There can be no truer form of work for the Church of GOD than the work of a municipal councillor who seeks not popularity but righteousness. The carrying over of Christian ideals into national and international politics is equally indispensable. In the sphere of international affairs in particular, while other nations have, for the most part, rendered official lip-service from time to time to ideals of international morality, it has been reserved for Germany to declare openly for the repudiation of "sentiment," and for a policy of undisguised cynicism and _real-politik_. The doctrine that the state as such is exempt from moral obligation towards its neighbours, and that the whole political duty of man is exhausted in the service of his country and the promotion of her purely selfish interests and "will to power," has been exhibited in action by the Prussian Government in such a fashion as to incur the moral reprobation of the world. The cynical doctrines of _real-politik_, the belief that the "interests" of the state are in politics and diplomacy paramount, and that "the foreigner" is a natural enemy, the belief that in all international relationships selfish and self-interested considerations must really determine policy, are unfortunately by no means unrepresented, though they are not unchallenged, in the political life of other countries besides Germany. There are influential publicists in England to-day the _principles_ of whose political thinking are really Prussian. It remains to be seen whether, when the time comes for peace to be made between the nations, the forces of international idealism will prove strong enough to carry the day, or whether we shall have a merely vindictive and "realist" peace which will contain within itself the seeds of future wars. There can be no question but that a Christian man is bound to stand both for the freedom of oppressed nationalities and for the right of all peoples freely to determine their own affairs, and also for the duty of nations as of individuals to love their neighbours as themselves, and to seek primarily not their own but each other's good. If these professions are to be more than nominal they must mean a readiness for national sacrifices and for national unselfishness in time of peace as in time of war. CHAPTER IX CHRISTIANITY AND WAR Christianity is opposed to war, in the sense that if men and nations universally behaved as Christians, wars would cease. The ideal of the Kingdom of GOD involves the reign upon earth of universal peace. War is, therefore, in itself, an unchristian thing. It is, moreover, a barbarous and irrational method of determining disputes, since the factors which humanly speaking are decisive for success in war, viz. the organized and unflinching use of superior physical force, are in principle irrelevant to the rights or wrongs of the cause which may be at stake. The victories of might and right do not invariably coincide. It is not surprising, therefore, that a certain proportion of Christians--the Quakers, for example, and many individuals who have either been influenced by the teaching of Tolstoy, or else, thinking the matter out for themselves, have arrived at similar conclusions to those of Tolstoy and the Quakers--should hold that in the event of war a man's loyalty to his earthly city must give way to his loyalty to his heavenly King in this matter. Experience shows that there are men who are prepared to suffer persecution, imprisonment, or death itself rather than violate their principles by service in the armed forces of the Crown. There are obviously circumstances conceivable in which it would be the duty of all Christians to become "Conscientious Objectors." Such circumstances would arise in any case in which the state endeavoured to compel men's services in a war which their conscience disapproved. In the present European War it so happens that there are probably no Englishmen who regard the German cause as righteous and the Allies' cause as wrong. The problem of Conscientious Objection has, therefore, only arisen in the case of those Christians who hold the abstract doctrine of the absolute wrongness, in whatever circumstances, of all war as such. There are those who, though personally rejecting this doctrine, consider that those who hold it are wrong only in that they are spiritually in advance of their time. The majority, however, of Christians have felt that the Pacifist or Quaker doctrine is not merely impracticable under present conditions, but that it rests upon a fallacious principle. For it appears to deny that physical force can ever be rightfully employed as the instrument of a moral purpose. In the last resort it is akin to the anti-sacramental doctrine which regards what is material as essentially opposed to what is spiritual. The questions at issue are not really to be solved by the quotation of isolated texts or sayings of our Lord from the Gospels. What is really in dispute is the question of the form which, in the context of a given set of national and political circumstances, may rightfully be given to the application of the Christian principle of universal, righteous, and self-sacrificing Love. No one can dispute the fact that in certain circumstances Christianity may demand the readiness to die for others. Are there any circumstances in which Christianity may demand the readiness to _slay_ for others, either personally, or mediately through service in a military machine which as a whole is the instrument of a national purpose only to be achieved through the slaughter of those in the ranks of the opposing armies? The majority of Christians have answered this question in the affirmative. They have held that there are circumstances in which the claims of Love are more genuinely and adequately acknowledged by taking part in warfare than by abstaining from it. They have insisted that there are circumstances in which it is no true act of love, even towards the aggressor, or perhaps towards the aggressor least of all, to permit him to achieve an evil purpose unchecked: that resistance, even by force of arms, may be in the truest interests of the enemy himself. They have maintained that it is possible to fight in a Christian temper and spirit, without either personal malice or hatred of the foe: that not all killing is murder, and that to rob a man of physical life, as an incident in the assertion of the claims of righteousness, is not, from the point of view of those who believe in human immortality, to do him that ultimate and essential injury which it might otherwise be held to be. No one, however, who has had anything to do with modern war can doubt that it is intrinsically beastly and devilish, or that it is apt to arouse passions, in all but the saintliest of men, which are of an extremely ugly kind. To affirm that it is possible, as a matter of theory, to fight in a wholly Christian spirit and temper, is not to assert that in actual practice more than a small minority of soldiers succeed in doing so. It is possible to be devoutly thankful that when the issue was posed by the conduct of the Germanic powers in the August of 1914 the British Empire replied by entering upon war, to hold that it was emphatically the right thing to do, and that it represented a course of conduct more intrinsically Christian than neutrality would have been. But it is not possible to maintain with truth that the British nation as a whole has been fighting either in a Christian temper or from Christian motives. It is undeniable that uglier motives and passions have crept in. Sermons in Christian pulpits upon such themes as the duty of forgiveness or the Christian ideal of love towards the enemy have been neither frequent nor popular. Undoubtedly the German Government in its general policy, and particular units of the German Army and Navy upon many occasions, have acted in such a way as to give provocation of the very strongest kind to the unregenerate human impulses of hatred and of revenge. It is not surprising, though it is regrettable, that under the influence of this provocation many persons, otherwise Christian, have either frankly abandoned the Christian doctrine of human brotherhood, or else have denied that the Germans are to be regarded as human beings. On the whole, and speaking very broadly, it may be said that the troops have shown themselves more Christian in these respects than have the civil population, though there are many exceptions upon both sides. It is to be feared that the Church, in so far as she has been represented by her clergy (though here, again, there are many exceptions), has been too anxious to be identified with a merely Jingo patriotism to exercise any very appreciable influence in restraint of unchristian passions. It is to be hoped and anticipated that there will be a strong reaction after the war both against militarism and the less desirable aspects of the military mind, and also against the belligerent temper and spirit--especially, perhaps, on the part of the men who have themselves served and suffered in the field. CHAPTER X LOVE, COURTSHIP, AND MARRIAGE No element in Christian practice has been more widely challenged in modern times than the Christian ideal of marriage. Our Lord's standard in these matters was simple and austere. "Whoso looketh on a woman to lust after her hath committed adultery already in his heart." "Whosoever shall put away his wife, saving for the cause of fornication" (the exceptive clause is of disputed authenticity) "causeth her to commit adultery: and whosoever shall marry her that is divorced committeth adultery." The _State_ in certain cases gives legal sanction to "adultery" in this latter sense, and there is a vocal and probably increasing demand that legal facilities for divorce upon various pretexts, with liberty of remarriage, shall be further extended. The Divorce Law Reform Union has announced its intention to promote in Parliament a Bill which, if carried, would have the effect of reducing legal marriage to a contract terminable after three years' voluntary separation by the will of either party. Doubtless a robust opposition will be offered by Christian people to the adoption of so lax a conception of marriage even by the State. Experience in other countries seems to show that unlimited facilities for divorce do not tend to the promotion either of happiness or of morals. But it needs to be recognized that the State, as such, is concerned only with the legal aspect of marriage as a civil contract, and that it has to legislate for citizens not all of whom profess Christian standards even in theory. The law of the State may well diverge from that of the Church with regard to this matter, though it does not follow that so lax a standard as that which is now proposed would be in the best interests even of the State. The Church regards Christian marriage as indissoluble. In cases of adultery she counsels reconciliation, wherever possible, upon the basis of repentance on the part of the guilty and forgiveness on the part of the injured partner. If this is not possible the Church sanctions, if need so require, separation, but not remarriage. There are also unfortunately other cases in which the married relationship proves so intolerable as to render a temporary or permanent separation admissible as a last resort. The remarriage of either party during the lifetime of the other is nevertheless held to be unchristian. With the practical difficulties which beset the Church in the attempt to maintain within the circle of her own membership a stricter standard than that which is recognized by the Civil Law and by society at large we are not here concerned. Our concern is with the Christian standard as a positive ideal, on the effective maintenance of which, as Christians believe, depends the stability of the home and the Christian family, and the redemption of sex-relations from mere animalism and grossness. A Christian husband takes his wife in matrimony "for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death them do part, according to GOD'S holy ordinance." The step is irrevocable. The union is intended to be life-long. It has, moreover, in view not only "the mutual society, help, and comfort that the one ought to have of the other," but also "the procreation of children, to be brought up in the fear and nurture of the Lord, and to the praise of His holy Name." A few words may usefully be said under these heads. (i) Marriage ought to be based upon love; and love, though naturally and normally involving the element of sexual attraction, ought to include also other and deeper elements. A Christian man who has lived a clean and disciplined life ought to be sufficiently master of his passions to avoid mistaking a merely temporary infatuation for such a genuine spiritual affinity as will survive the satisfaction of immediate desires and prove the stable basis of a life-companionship. Hasty marriages are a common and avoidable cause of subsequent unhappiness. It is obviously undesirable that couples should enter upon matrimony until there has been a sufficiently prolonged and intimate acquaintance to enable them to become reasonably sure both of themselves and of one another. In many cases there is much to be said for regarding betrothals in the first instance as provisional. It is better to break them off at the last moment than to marry the wrong person. The Victorian conventions with regard to all these matters were thoroughly bad. Girls were brought up in carefully-guarded ignorance of the implications of matrimony and shielded by perpetual chaperonage from anything approaching comradeship with the opposite sex. Eventually they were in many cases stampeded into a marriage which had its origin either in a clandestine flirtation or in the designing operations of some match-making relative, who made it her business first to "throw the young people together" and then to suggest that they were virtually committed to one another by the mere fact of having met. The reaction which has taken place against all this is upon the whole salutary. The new social tradition which is growing up makes it possible for the unmarried of both sexes to meet one another with comparative freedom, and to establish relations of friendship, which may subsequently ripen into love, unhampered by any such morbidly exciting atmosphere of intrigue and suggestion on the part of relatives and friends. But the new freedom of social intercourse, if it is not in its turn to prove disastrous, demands on the part of the young of both sexes a higher standard both of responsibility and self- control, and of knowledge of what is implied in the fact of sex. The experience of married life is, moreover, not likely to prove a success, save in rare instances, unless there is between the parties a real community of interests and tastes, unanimity, so far as may be, of ideals and of religious convictions, and at least no very great disparity of educational and intellectual equipment. (ii) A Christian marriage includes among its purposes the procreation of children. It is here most of all that unanimity of ideal and of conviction between husband and wife is essential. A man and a woman ought not to take one another in marriage without first being assured of each other's mind upon this subject. "If marriage is to be a success each must learn respect for the other's personality, real give and take, and the horror of treating the other just as a means to his own pleasure, whether spiritual, intellectual, or physical: and both must think seriously of the responsibilities of parenthood. Husband and wife must work out their ideals together, in perfect frankness and sincerity, and it is impossible to have true and sacred ideals of their joint physical life unless there is the same openness and understanding and sympathy on this point as on all others." [Footnote: _Ideals of Home_, by Gemma Bailey (National Mission Paper, No. 43).] There must be mutual consideration and self-control: the need for self-restraint and continence does not disappear with the entry upon marital relations: it is if anything intensified. There is a real problem here which needs to be thought out. To the practice of "race-suicide," by which is meant the artificial restriction of parentage by the use of mechanical or other "preventives," Christian morality is violently opposed. On the other hand, it may reasonably be held that people ought not to bring children into the world in numbers which are wholly out of relation to their capacity to feed, clothe, educate, and train them. "The enormous families of which we hear in early Victorian times were not quite ideal for the mother or the children, nor for the father if he were not well off." [Footnote: _Ibid_] It may be found necessary in practice to limit the size of the family either upon economic grounds or (in particular instances) in the interest of the mother's health. It is to be feared, however, that the modern tendency in both respects is to shirk the responsibilities of parenthood on grounds which are thoroughly selfish. The Victorian doctrine that "when GOD sends mouths He sends food to fill them" may have been unduly happy-go-lucky. The recent remark of an officer in a certain British regiment, that since he and his wife had only L8000 a year between them, he felt that he could not afford to have more than one child, was entirely shameless. It would seem, moreover, that the comparative childlessness of modern marriages is sometimes due not to the husband's reluctance, upon economic grounds, to beget children, but to the wife's reluctance to bear them, a reluctance which in some cases arises either from such shrinking from the physical pain and sacrifice of motherhood as goes beyond what is really justified, or from mere self-indulgent absorption in social pursuits and pleasures. There ought to be in a Christian marriage more of the true spirit of adventure and romance, a greater readiness for sacrifice, a more willing acceptance of parental responsibilities, and of the obligation of self-denial for the children's sake. There can be no question but that modern families-- with the paradoxical exception of the families of the very poor--have been tending to be smaller than they either need be or ought to be. At the same time it is generally conceded that _some_ measure of limitation is in most cases reasonable and necessary. The vitally important thing is that such necessary and reasonable limitation should be secured not by artificial evasion of the consequences of intercourse, but by self-control and deliberate temporary abstinence at certain periods from the intercourse of sex. [Footnote: It may be suggested that in cases of genuine perplexity it is advisable to consult, as occasion may require, either a medical man who is also a Christian, or a wise--and preferably a married--spiritual guide.] For the union of the sexes in marriage is according to the mind of the Christian Church an essentially pure and holy thing. It is a sacrament of the fusion of two personalities, whereby they are at once individually and mutually enriched, and at the same time mystically and spiritually knit together in such a way as to become in the sight of GOD indissolubly one: the unity of husband and wife being comparable, according to a famous saying of S. Paul, to the unity which exists between Christ and His Church. Now, although, from this point of view, the significance of married life is to a great extent impoverished and frustrated, if intercourse is so regulated as to render the marriage childless not in fact merely, but in intention, yet it does not follow that procreation must be directly in view on every individual occasion, since the mystical value of intercourse as a spiritual sacrament of love may still exist in independence of such intention. It is nevertheless, surely, clear that a Christian man and his wife are morally precluded from coming together except with a deep sense of the sacredness of what they do and of its intimate connexion with the mysteries of life and birth, and a corresponding readiness, in the event of conception taking place, to accept the ensuing responsibility for the child as a sacred trust from GOD, "the Father from whom all fatherhood in heaven and on earth is named." With the use of "preventives" and other devices, which degrade into a mere means of carnal satisfaction an act which is meant to bear a deeply spiritual and religious meaning, the Christian interpretation of marriage seems plainly and obviously incompatible. A few words may be added with regard to the upbringing and education of children. Here, again, there has been a reaction--which upon the whole is good--from the unduly rigorous disciplinary methods of the past. It may be doubted, however, whether the reaction has not in some cases been carried too far. Children ought to be controlled and disciplined by their parents, and no expenditure of care and thought and tact is too great to devote to the rightful training of their characters. But experience seems to show that parents sometimes fail to recognize that their children grow up. It is important that in proportion as they grow towards maturity of character and independence of personality the strictness of parental discipline should be gradually relaxed. At a certain stage the real influence of parents upon their children will depend upon their refusal to assert direct authority. Not a few of the minor tragedies of home life arise from the ill-judged action of parents who treat as children sons and daughters who are virtually grown up. The problem of the religious education of children cannot here be discussed in detail, but three or four leading principles may be suggested. (1) It ought not to be necessary to say that children should not be taught to regard as true statements or doctrines which their parents believe to be in fact false. This applies in particular to certain views of the Bible. The ideal should be so to teach the child that in later life he may have nothing to unlearn. (2) When children are old enough to read they should be encouraged to read the Gospels. They ought not, however, to read the Old Testament, with the exception of certain Psalms and other specially selected passages, until they are of an age to distinguish what is Christian from what is Jewish, and to recognize the principle of religious development. (3) Children should be taught in the first instance the practice rather than the theory of religion: devotions in which doctrine is implicit, rather than doctrine as such. As their minds expand they will ask the reasons for what they do and the meaning of the worship in which they engage, and they will need to have suggested to them an elementary, but not a stereotyped, theology. They should from the beginning be encouraged to think and question freely on religious subjects. (4) They should occasionally accompany their parents to Church, and in particular should from time to time be present when the latter receive Holy Communion. They should have the service explained to them in a simple fashion, and should be encouraged to look forward to the time when they will be confirmed, and become communicants themselves. PART III THE MAINTENANCE OF THE CHRISTIAN LIFE CHAPTER I HOW TO BEGIN The practice of Christianity depends for its possibility upon the existence and maintenance within the soul of an inward principle of spiritual life towards GOD. The reason why so many nominal Christians fail conspicuously to manifest the fruits of Christianity in their lives is simply that they have no vital personal experience of the power and efficacy of the life in Christ. They have never been effectually gripped by the religion which they nominally profess. They are not transformed, or in process of being transformed, by the Holy Spirit's power. The plain man, confronted by the Christian ideal, if he does not at once dismiss it as impracticable, is apt to ask, or at least to wonder, how he is to begin. It is a question to which no cut-and-dried answer can be given. But at least no beginning is likely to lead to very much in the way of fulfilment which does not sooner or later involve something like personal "conversion" of heart. Conversions may be sudden, or they may be gradual: but religion, if it is to be a reality, means in the end the establishment of vital personal relations with the living Christ. It means the acceptance of His challenge, self-surrender to His appeal, the combination of an acknowledged desire to serve Him with acknowledged impotence and bankruptcy before GOD. Sooner or later the Spirit convinces men of sin. Either a man, essaying light-heartedly to follow Christ, discovers in the very attempt his inability to do so, and is found traitor to his Master's cause in the first encounter: or else, it may be, at the very outset, the consciousness of what has been wrong in conduct and character and motive in the past stands as a damning record between his soul and GOD, and forbids him without repentance to take service in the campaign of Christ at all. The consciousness of sin as a "horrid impediment" in the soul is not, of course, true penitence until a man has been brought to realize in the light of the Cross that the difference between what he is and what he might have been is treachery to Him whose man (in virtue of his baptism) he was meant to be, and that by being what he is, and acting as he has acted, he has consciously or unconsciously contributed to the wounds wherewith Eternal Love is wounded in the house of His friends. The measure of a man's penitence, whether early or late developed in him, is very apt to be the measure of his spiritual insight and of his spiritual sincerity. The familiar words of the hymn-- "They who fain would serve Thee best Are conscious most of wrong within," are profoundly true to Christian experience. But repentance--which is sorrow for sin in the light of the Cross--is abortive and merely results in spiritual paralysis unless it issues in confession--that is, frank and open acknowledgment before GOD, and if need be also before His Church--and the seeking and finding of reconciliation and forgiveness as the unmerited gift of GOD in Christ. There are those in whose case the inward conviction of sin and the realization of the need for pardon are the first impulses of awakening spiritual life. There are others with whom it is not so. They are conscious of the attractiveness of the Man Christ Jesus. They would desire to be on His side and to be of the number of His disciples. They are dimly aware, or at least they more than half suspect, that in Him is to be found the satisfaction of a need for which their soul cries out. With S. Peter they find themselves saying to Christ, "Lord, to whom shall we go? Thou hast the words of eternal life," But they cannot as yet with any inward reality profess themselves conscience- stricken with regard to the past. They are not aware of themselves as conspicuous sinners, or indeed, it may be, as sinners at all. The experience of penitence and of Divine forgiveness must come to them, if it is to come at all, at a later stage. It is not by that postern that they enter upon the Way of the Spirit. But the Way is in either case the way of fellowship, and the Spirit is the spirit of discipline. The newly found spiritual life, however awakened, needs to be maintained and fostered by fellowship in the Church, by regular habits of Christian devotion, by faithful communion in the Sacrament of Life. Plainly, if a man is not already confirmed, his first step must be to be prepared for confirmation: if he has been confirmed, but has lapsed from communion, he must resume the communicant life. He needs to claim the status and privilege of effective membership in the Body of Christ, and to form for himself a rule of inward life and discipline. Rules of devotional life must necessarily vary in accordance with a man's surroundings and opportunities, and perhaps in some of their details in accordance with a man's temperament. But at least there ought to be a rule of regular private prayer, a rule of regular communion, a rule of Bible-reading or "meditation," and a rule of self-denial and orderliness in daily personal life. CHAPTER II PRAYER Prayer is a difficult matter, both in theory and in practice. But it is essential to learn to pray. It is important to recognize that the scope of Christian prayer is much wider than mere intercession or petition. It is the communion of the soul with GOD, and its purpose is union with the life of GOD in identity of purpose with His will. The beginning of prayer is a _sursum corda_, a lifting up of the heart to GOD. It is well to remember that true prayer is never a solitary act, even when a man prays in solitude. We pray not as individuals but as members of a Family, and our prayer is spiritually united and knit together with the common prayer-life of the universal Church, of which it forms a part. We pray, moreover, not to wrest to our private ends the purposes of GOD, not to induce Him, so to speak, to do our wills instead of His, but to unite our wills with His will, as children who have confidence in their Father. True prayer is offered in the Name of Christ--that is, it is prayed in His Spirit, according to His mind and will. It can never, therefore, be selfish or self-centred. The Lord's Prayer is its model and its type. A few words may be said in explanation of this prayer. It begins with a recognition of the common Fatherhood of GOD. It is only as members of His Family that we can approach Him: He is in no sense our personal or private GOD, but the common Father of us all. And our Father is "in heaven"--that is, supreme, eternal, the Lord and Ruler of all things. His Name is holy, and to be hallowed: it is in reverence and deepest worship that we bow before Him. He is King, and we pray that His Kingship may be realized, in earth as it is in heaven: and that His will may be done--that is the supreme desire of our hearts, and the highest object of our petitions. And therefore we are vowed to His service: and because we are sure that He will supply whatever we really need to that end, we pray in confidence for daily needs both spiritual and bodily--"Give us this day our daily bread." And remembering that we are unprofitable and faithless and disloyal servants we ask forgiveness for our sins, well knowing that we can only be forgiven as we ourselves are ready to forgive. And so looking to the future and mindful of our frailty we pray that GOD will not lead us into "temptation" or trial, without at the same time providing a way of deliverance from the assaults of evil. The prayer customarily ends with an ascription of praise and glory to GOD. That is the type and model of Christian prayer: and prayer is truly Christian just in so far as the spirit and temper of the Lord's Prayer inspires it. We can only pray rightly in the Holy Spirit. "We know not what to pray for as we ought: but the Spirit helpeth our infirmities." As for the technique of prayer, a man, on kneeling or standing to pray, will do well to spend a short time first in silence and recollection, waiting in stillness upon GOD, remembering His presence, His holiness, His love, and His responsiveness to His children's cry. Let him next make an act of adoration, spoken or unspoken, and invoke GOD the Holy Spirit to enable him to pray aright. Then let him pour out before GOD all that is in his heart, his troubles, his anxieties, his perplexities, his sins: let him ask for forgiveness: let him give thanks: let him pray for the coming of GOD'S Kingdom, in its various aspects: commending to GOD'S guidance and protection all right causes and aspirations in the world, in things both social and political and international, in things ecclesiastical, in things moral and religious and missionary: let him add personal and private intercessions for those near and dear to him and for those whom he meets in the daily intercourse of life: and let him end as he began, in a few moments of quiet waiting upon GOD. That is the general scheme of a Christian's private prayers. They should include in due proportion the several elements of adoration, thanksgiving, penitence, petition, and intercession. They need not be lengthy. "Use not vain repetitions, as the heathen do: for they think that they shall be heard for their much speaking." It is quality and not quantity of prayer that counts. And the prayers of a busy man must necessarily be short. But it is worth while taking time and trouble over the ordering of one's prayers. A man's intercessions, in particular, are not likely in practice to have the width, the range, and the variety which are desirable, unless they are planned and ordered in accordance with a coherent scheme which is thought out in advance. It is the part of wisdom to keep a note-book, in which names and subjects for intercessory prayer may be jotted down and distributed over the days of the week for use in due rotation. Such schemes, however, if drawn up and used, should be revised from time to time, and not suffered to become a mechanical burden or a legal bondage. There should be freedom and spontaneity in a Christian's prayers. It is well to have rules, and to try not to be prevented by mere slackness from keeping them. But it is important to see to it that the self-imposed rule is so framed as to prove genuinely conducive to reality in prayer, and suitably adapted to opportunity and circumstance: and it is very often a good thing from time to time, in the interests of freedom, quite deliberately to break one's rules. With regard to forms and methods of prayer, it is desirable that men should learn to pray freely in their own words, or even in no words at all. Provided a man remembers reverence, he need not stand on ceremony with GOD. But it is advisable also to use books and manuals of prayer --at any rate in the first instance: to use them, but not to be tied to them. Many such manuals have been compiled and published within recent years: the majority of them are unsatisfactory in varying degrees. A few, however, can confidently be recommended: especially _Prayers for the City of God_, compiled by G. C. Binyon (Longmans); _Prayers for Common Use_ (Universities Mission to Central Africa, Dartmouth St., Westminster); and _Sursum Corda, a Handbook of Intercession and Thanksgiving _, arranged by W. H. Frere and A. L. Illingworth (A. E. Mowbray and Co., Ltd.). Prayer need not be confined to stated hours and times. Interpreting prayer at its widest, the ideal should be to "pray without ceasing." It was said of an early Christian writer that his life was "one continuous prayer": and it is well to form the habit of inwardly lifting up the heart to GOD from time to time in the midst of daily cares and business. Where Churches are kept open it is often possible in passing to spare time to enter and kneel for two or three minutes in quiet and recollection before GOD: but it is perfectly possible to pray inwardly at any time and in any environment. Fixed times of prayer, nevertheless, there must also be: and a man should at least pray in the morning upon rising and in the evening before going to bed. If a time can also be secured for midday prayer, so much the better: but this is more difficult. To have formed a really fixed and stable habit of daily prayer is an enormous step forwards in Christian life. Much depends upon learning to rise regularly at a fixed hour before breakfast: and this in turn depends upon a regularity in going to bed, which under modern conditions of life it is not always easy to achieve. If a man is obliged to be up so late at night that it is morally certain that he will be too tired to pray with much reality before turning in, he should endeavour, if it is at all possible, to secure some time for prayer at an earlier stage in the evening. Difficulties in the life of prayer beset everybody. Thoughts have a way of wandering, the "saying" of prayers tends to become mechanical, moods vary, and there are times in most men's lives when they feel it almost impossible to pray with any sense of reality. A man should not lightly be discouraged. He may be recommended to remind himself that GOD knows all about it, and that the resolute offering of his will to GOD at such times, in defiance of distraction and difficulty, has special value. It is well to take God into one's confidence. "If GOD bores you, tell Him that He does." He is no exacting tyrant, but a Father caring for His sons. Those who care to do so may find _Prayer and some of its Difficulties_, by the Rev. W. J. Carey (Mowbray & Co.), a helpful book to read in this connexion. A final word may be said with regard to a theoretical difficulty which many people feel in connexion with the intercessory and petitionary sides of prayer. Since GOD'S will, it may be argued, is presumably going to be done in any case, and since He knows the real needs both of ourselves and of our friends better than we do, what is the point of praying for them? To many people it may be a sufficient practical answer to refer to the example and precept of Christ, who both taught and practised intercessory prayer. But it is possible to go a little further, and to point out that it appears to be GOD'S will, not merely that such and such a thing should be done, but that it should be done in response to our human prayers. True it is that "your Father knoweth what things ye have need of, before ye ask Him": but our Lord emphasized this truth, not as a round for regarding prayer as futile or unnecessary, but as a reason for praying. For prayer is an expression of the filial spirit towards our Father, and the more simply and naturally we approach GOD as children, making our petitions before Him with childlike hearts, the more truly will our prayers be in accordance with that spirit of sonship which is the mind of Christ. At the same time, the knowledge that our Father is wiser as well as greater than we will forbid us to clamour for what in wisdom is denied us, and will in general govern the spirit and scope of our petitions. Just as our Lord points out that an earthly father, if asked for bread, will not give his child a stone, so conversely in the experience of every Christian it often happens that in his blindness he asks a stone, and is given bread. But no Christian will ask deliberately and knowingly for stones. CHAPTER III SELF-EXAMINATION AND REPENTANCE "The unexamined life," said Plato, "is not worth living." Similar advice was given by Marcus Aurelius. The practice of self-examination, therefore, is not distinctive of Christianity: it is an obvious dictate of wisdom, wherever life and conduct are regarded seriously, that a man should from time to time take stock of himself in the light of his ideals and learn to know and recognize in detail where and how he has fallen short, and what are the besetting sins and weaknesses against which he must contend. The Christian man will judge and try his life by the standards of Christ, with growing sensitiveness of conscience as spiritual experience deepens: not shrinking from the confession of sin and failure, desiring not to be self-deceived, but to know and to acknowledge the truth. There is nothing in this of priggishness or unreality. It is a necessary discipline. The Christian life is meant to bear the fruit of a character developing in growing likeness to the character of Christ: but none is suddenly made perfect: the old Adam dies hard: and the Christian by confession of repeated failure may at least learn the lesson of humility and self-distrust. The rightful complement of self-distrust is trust in GOD: the rightful issue of self-examination and confession is the realization of divine forgiveness, fresh courage, and a new start. The very core of the Gospel is here. He who has bidden men forgive those who trespass against them "unto seventy times seven" is not to be outdone in generosity by man. But in order that sin may be forgiven it must be acknowledged as sin against GOD and treachery to Christ, and repented of with true sorrow of heart. Repentance is not mere self-contempt, self-pity, or remorse. It is sorrow for sin, which has for its motive the love of GOD and the realization that human sin meant and means in the experience of GOD the Cross. Nothing so deepens the religious life as true repentance, nor is there anything so fatal to true religion as self-righteousness. "If we say that we have no sin, we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us." "To whom little is forgiven, the same loveth little." But the first prerequisite of repentance is self-knowledge--a difficult matter. Gross carnal offences, strong and flagrant sins, if such there be, are obvious and upon the surface. The subtler sins of the spirit-- thoughtlessness, for example, or snobbishness or priggishness and pride--though we are quick to remark upon them in others, are apt in our own case to pass undetected. It is the Spirit who convinces men of sin. Only as we are resolute to enter into "the mind of the Spirit" can we hope to know ourselves as in the sight of GOD we really are. The matter is complicated by the fact that those who, as things are, most systematically practise self-examination and confession of sin too often view the matter in a somewhat narrowly ecclesiastical spirit, and make use of forms of self-examination which mix up real and serious moral offences with "sins" which are merely ceremonial, trivial, or imaginary, as though the two stood precisely upon the same level. "One must abstain from sexual sin _and_ not go to dissenting places of worship; one must not steal _and_ must be sure to abstain from meat on Fridays." A man's own sense of reality should enable him to guard against this sort of thing, and if fixed forms of self- examination are used, to use them with discretion. The forms most commonly suggested in manuals of devotion are based upon the Ten Commandments. This is in accordance with the teaching of the compilers of the English Prayer-book, who, after bidding intending communicants to "search and examine" their "own consciences (and that not lightly, and after the manner of dissemblers with GOD)," proceed to lay down that "the way and means thereto is: First, to examine your lives and conversations by the rule of God's commandments: and whereinsoever ye shall perceive yourselves to have offended, either by will, word or deed, there to bewail your own sinfulness, and to confess yourselves to Almighty GOD, with full purpose of amendment of life." The Commandments are, however, as they stand, both negative in form and Judaistic in character, and if used in this way as a "rule" of Christian conduct must be spiritualized and reinterpreted in the light of the Gospel. The second and fourth Commandments, in particular, are in their literal significance obsolete for Christians: it is a false Puritanism which would forbid sculpture and religious symbolism in the adornment of a Christian church, nor is any one in the modern world likely to confuse the symbol with the thing symbolized: while the observance of the Sabbath is part of that older ceremonial "law" from which S. Paul insisted that Christian converts should be free (Coloss. ii. 16). There is, however, a spiritual idolatry which consists in allowing any other object than the glory of GOD and the doing of His will to have the primary place in the determination of conduct--there are men who worship money, or comfort, or ambition, or their own domestic happiness, or even themselves. And the Commandment about the Sabbath, though it has no literal value to-day (and certainly no direct bearing upon the sanction or significance of Sunday) may serve to suggest the important principle that a man is responsible before GOD for the use he makes of his time, and that it is a religious duty (not confined to any particular day of the week) to distribute it in due proportion, according to circumstance and opportunity, with proper regard to the rightful claims of work, of worship, and of recreation and rest. The remaining Commandments are capable of being similarly interpreted as suggesting broad positive principles rather than as merely prohibiting wrong actions of a particular and definite kind: and so treated they form as convenient a framework as any other for a scheme of questions for self-examination. It is possible, however, that some men may prefer to use as their basis some standard more distinctively Christian than the ancient law of Judaism--for example, the Beatitudes (Matt. v. 1-12) or the "fruits of the Spirit" (Gal. v. 22). A man will in any case do well either to frame or to adapt his own scheme for self-examination, with special regard paid to whatever he may discover by experience to be a besetting sin or weakness, or a temptation to which he is particularly exposed. It should be remembered that the measure of what is wrong in a man's life is the measure of the contrast between his character and that of Christ, and that the chief flaws in Christian character and achievement (which are also those most likely to pass undetected) are not uncommonly such as fall under the head of "sins of omission" rather than of commission--the leaving undone of what ought to have been done, the failure to exhibit positively in relation to GOD and man the qualities of faith and hope and love. A man should ask himself wherein he has chiefly failed, and come short of the glory of GOD: whether he is loyally observing any self-imposed rule of life and discipline, and fulfilling any resolutions which may have been made, or any obligations which have been undertaken. Having made in this manner an honest attempt to discover his own shortcomings and failures before GOD, let him with equal honesty confess them, seek forgiveness, and in the spirit of repentance and restored sonship start again. The late Lieutenant Donald Hankey, better known as "A Student in Arms," criticizes Churchmen of a certain type as being unwholesomely preoccupied with the thought of their sins, and allowing their consciences to become a burden to them. They should, he says, 'think less of themselves, and trust the Holy Spirit more. The advice is excellent: but morbid scrupulosity is not a common fault of English laymen. The habit, as Mr. Chesterton expresses it, of "chopping up life into small sins with a hatchet" is, of course, to be avoided: but the purpose of self-examination and self-knowledge is not to encourage morbid introspection, but by frank acknowledgment and repentance to get rid of the past and with recovered hope and serenity to reach forward towards the future. A man cannot "walk in the Spirit" unless he is inwardly "right with GOD." With regard to sacramental confession, the rule of the Church of England is sane and clear. It may be expressed by saying that "none _must_, but all _may_, and some _should_" make use of it. In the case of a conscience seriously burdened in such a way that a man hesitates to present himself for Holy Communion unabsolved, to go to confession is obviously the right remedy. There are other cases in which men find by experience that it helps them to be more honest and candid with themselves, with GOD, and with the Church, if they go to confession from time to time as a piece of self-discipline and a needed spiritual tonic. Yet others discover that they flounder less in spiritual things, and that their religious life is deepened and made stronger, if they place themselves for a time under wise direction. Systematic direction, of course, has obvious dangers. It may tend to destroy independence of character. It may cause a man to become "priest- ridden." But the dangers are not inevitable, and there are without doubt cases in which it is of value. Much obviously depends upon the wisdom and common sense of the director. The Prayer-book refers penitents to a "discreet and learned" minister of GOD'S Word. If a man proposes to practise habitual confession he will do well to assure himself of the discretion and learning of the priest whose help he seeks. The method of making a sacramental confession is simple. Self- examination is made beforehand, the results being, if need be, written down, either in full, or in the form of notes to assist the memory. A first confession should cover the whole life so far as remembered, from childhood upwards: subsequent confessions the period since the last was made. The confession should aim at completeness, an effort being made to remember not only specific acts of wrongdoing, but slight failings and weaknesses of character and the general lines and tendencies of faulty spiritual development. Symptoms should, if possible, be distinguished from causes, habits and tendencies and besetting sins from isolated acts. Cases in which a sin has been deliberate should be noted as such: but there should be no dwelling upon extenuating circumstances or intermingling of claims to virtues or graces of character with the admission of defects. No names may be mentioned, nor may third persons be incriminated by any form of words which would enable the confessor to recognize their identity. The priest hears the confession sitting in a chair. The penitent kneels beside him and confesses as follows:--"I confess to GOD Almighty, the Father, the Son and the Holy Ghost, before the whole company of heaven, and before you, that I have sinned in thought, word, and deed, by my own fault. Especially I accuse myself that (since my last confession, which was...ago) I have committed the following sins.... [Here follows the confession in detail: after which]. ... For these and all my other sins which I cannot now remember, I humbly ask pardon of GOD, and of you, father, penance, counsel and absolution. Wherefore I ask GOD to have mercy upon me, and you to pray for me to the Lord our GOD. Amen." The confessor then gives advice and counsel according to his wisdom, commonly imposes a penance, and if assured of the sincerity of the penitent, pronounces absolution according to the form prescribed in the Prayer-book Office for the Visitation of the Sick. CHAPTER IV CORPORATE WORSHIP AND COMMUNION The really essential thing is the Communion. There may be minor outward differences as to the manner of its celebration: you shall find in one parish a tradition of Puritan bareness, in another a full and rich ceremonial symbolism, with lights and vestments. A man may have his personal preferences, but it is a mistake to attach undue importance either to the presence or to the absence of the external adjuncts of worship. What matters is the Body and Blood of Christ. A man must have his own regular rule with regard to Communion. To communicate spasmodically or upon impulse at irregular intervals is not the way to build up a stable Christian character. Where circumstances make possible the leading of a fairly regular life and give adequate opportunity for preparation beforehand, weekly communion is the best rule. Where this is not possible, a fortnightly or even a monthly rule may in particular cases be the best. Preparation for Communion should be real, but need not be elaborate. It should be made overnight, and should include a review of the period since the last Communion was made, prayers for pardon and new resolves, if possible a short meditation on the essential meaning of the Sacrament, and the selection of some particular theme to be the focus of intercession at the service itself. At the actual service it is well to arrive early, with a few moments to spare for quiet and recollected prayer before the Liturgy begins. The first part of the service is preparatory. Any pauses or intervals should be filled up by private prayers.[Footnote: Forms and suggestions which, may be used by those who find them helpful are provided for this purpose in any manual of devotion.] From the moment of consecration until the end of the service the mind should be concentrated as far as possible upon the thought of Christ's realized Presence. A man should go up to the altar to receive Communion as one desiring to meet his Lord and to be renewed in Him, returning subsequently to his place to render thanks for so great a Gift. When the service is over it is best not to hurry out of church, but to linger for further thanksgiving and prayer as occasion serves. It is an ancient rule or custom of the Church to receive Holy Communion fasting, giving precedence to the food of the soul over that of the body. To insist rigidly upon such a rule in any and every set of circumstances is a piece of unintelligent and unchristian legalism: but many persons are of opinion that to observe it wherever it is reasonably possible to do so makes for reality. There is a real value in the element of asceticism and self-discipline involved in the effort to rise early and come fasting to church: and the fast may be interpreted as a kind of outward sacrament of the inward reality of spiritual preparation--a preparation of the body corresponding to the preparation of the soul, It is, moreover, an advantage of the early morning hour that the mind is undistracted by the occupations and diversions of the day. For all these reasons the early morning Communion is to be preferred to Communion at a later hour. Whether a man is a weekly communicant or not, he should _in any case be present as a worshipper_ at Holy Communion Sunday by Sunday, and should regard attendance at the weekly Eucharist as the most essential part of church-going. No one who makes it a rule of his life to be present on Sundays and other festivals of the Church at Holy Communion ever has cause to regret having done so. A man who for any reason (_e.g._ by the nature of his employment) is debarred from attending regularly on Sundays should, if possible, secure an opportunity of regular attendance at Holy Communion on a week-day. There are usually churches to be found, at least in the towns, which have an early morning Eucharist daily throughout the week: and advantage can also be taken of this if on any particular occasion the regular Sunday Communion has been missed. If neither Sunday nor week-day opportunities are available, the need should be met by what is known as "spiritual communion": that is to say, a man should read over the Liturgy in private, unite himself in spirit with the Eucharist as celebrated in the particular church with which he happens to be most familiar (as representing for him the worship of the Church Universal), and pray that he may receive the spiritual benefits of Communion though deprived for the time being of the actual Sacrament. Apart from the "early service," which is now almost universal, schemes of worship upon Sunday mornings vary in different parishes. In some churches Matins and Litany are sung and a sermon preached, a late Eucharist without music being commonly celebrated about noon: in other parishes Matins is said quietly without music at a comparatively early hour, and the Eucharist is solemnly sung, with a sermon, as the principal service of the forenoon, usually without more than a very limited number of communicants, partly because if the bulk of the congregation communicate at a sung Eucharist the service becomes intolerably long, and partly because the majority of those desiring to receive Communion have done so fasting at an earlier hour. In large towns a man can usually find churches of either type according to his preference. In "single-church areas" he ought for the sake of fellowship and good example to conform, as a rule, to what is customary. It is desirable, in a general way, to be identified with the corporate worship of the parish: but it is worth remarking that, apart from the weight due to this general consideration, there is no particular sacredness about the hour of eleven o'clock, and a man who has communicated before breakfast, and perhaps contemplates attendance, later on, at Evensong, may not unreasonably feel justified in devoting the forenoon of Sunday (which is usually his solitary morning's leisure in the week) to other purposes than those of worship. If the preacher is worth listening to (which is not invariably the case) it is a good thing to go and hear him: and it is well, therefore, to attend one or other of the services (morning or evening) at which a sermon is preached. But it is not essential to attend both: and the question may be raised whether one sermon a Sunday is not as much as most men can profitably digest. A sermon is in any case (except at the Eucharist) a detachable appendix to a Church service; and it is both possible and legitimate either to attend the service and leave the church before the sermon, or to avoid the service and come in time to hear the sermon, according to preference or opportunity. As regards external details of observance, kneeling, and not squatting, should be the attitude adopted for prayer. It is customary to turn eastwards for the Creed, and in some churches, though not in others, to kneel at the reference to the Incarnation in the course of the Nicene Creed. It is also a common practice in some churches to genuflect (_i.e._ to drop for a moment upon one knee) on rising from one's place to go up to the altar to communicate, in reverence for the Blessed Sacrament. A man should adapt his personal usage in these minor details to whatever appears to be customary in the particular church in which he is worshipping. It is often extremely difficult for the clergy to know personally the men of their congregations, since it is rare in most neighbourhoods for the men to be at home during the hours when it is possible for the clergy to visit. In these circumstances a man ought to be willing to take the initiative in making himself known to the clergy of his parish, and to co-operate as far as possible in any effort which may be made, through parochial Church Councils or otherwise, to develop the spirit of fellowship in a congregation. There is very often about Anglican Church worship a stiffness and frigidity which badly needs to be broken down. Appropriated seats, where they exist, are a particular curse, and anything which can be done in the way of abandoning chosen seats, even if "bought and paid for," to strangers in the interests of charity is a real piece of Christian service. A stranger ought not to be made to feel uncomfortable, but to be welcomed in every possible way. The ideal is that every church, in every part of it, should be free and open at all times to all comers. CHAPTER V THE DEVOTIONAL USE OF THE BIBLE It is to be feared that the habit of reading the Bible in private for purposes of devotion has largely dropped out of modern usage, partly by reason of the general stress and urgency of modern life, and partly because men do not quite know what to make of the Bible when they read it. They are aware of the existence of what are called "critical questions," but they do not know precisely the kind of differences which criticism has made. It is a pity to acquiesce in an attitude of this kind, and it is greatly to be desired that the habit of reading the Bible regularly and becoming familiar with its contents should be revived. There are two distinct methods of reading the Bible which are of value. One is to take a particular book and to read it straight through like a novel, in order to get the impression of the writer's message as a whole. Advantage may be taken of occasional opportunities of Sunday or week-day leisure for this purpose. If the book is studied with the help of a good commentary, so much the better. A man who would be ashamed to be wholly unfamiliar with modern or classical literature ought to be equally ashamed to be wholly unfamiliar with the literature of the Hebrews. The second method of reading the Bible consists in the devotional study of particular passages, sometimes called by the formidable name of "meditation." The parts of the Bible best adapted for this purpose are the Gospels, certain portions of the Epistles, many of the Psalms, and portions of the greater Prophets. The essence of the method is to read over a short passage quietly after prayer for spiritual guidance, to browse over it for a few minutes and follow out any train of thought which may be suggested by it, to apply its message in whatever way may seem most real and practical to the spiritual problems of immediate daily life, and to conclude with prayer and resolution for the future. It is not practicable for the majority of men to make such a "meditation" a matter of daily habit, though this may easily be possible for people of leisure. But it may be suggested that it is both practicable and abundantly worth while for ordinary people to allot at least half an hour a week for such a purpose. Our fathers unquestionably fed and nurtured their souls to an extraordinary degree by spiritual reading. It ought to be possible for modern people, in spite of modern distractions, to acquire and maintain the capacity to do the same. CHAPTER VI ALMSGIVING AND FASTING The two things were originally closely connected. Men fasted in order to give to others the savings which resulted from a reduced expenditure on personal needs. "Lent savings" represent a modern revival of this idea. The essence of Christian almsgiving is that it should be the expression of Christian charity or love: and love means the willingness to serve others, at cost to self. Gifts and subscriptions which represent merely the largess of a man's superfluity and cost nothing in the way of personal self-denial are not really in this sense almsgiving. The Gospel prefers the widow's mite to the rich man's large but not really generous contribution, in cases where the larger sum represents the lesser personal cost. It was the rule of the ancient Jewish Law that a man should give away a tenth part of what he possessed, but this ought not to be adopted under modern conditions as a literal precept. The poor cannot afford to spare so large a fraction of their incomes. The wealthy can in many cases give away a much larger proportion without feeling particularly stinted. It is the duty of every man whose income is above the line of actual poverty (_i.e._ exceeds what is necessary for the literal subsistence in food, shelter, and clothing of himself and those dependent upon him for support) to consider with his own conscience before GOD what proportion should be set aside for educational and other purposes, and what proportion should be directly given away in charity. Anonymous subscriptions are the best, and the amount available for distribution should be carefully allocated as between rival claims. Details, of course, must vary: but a certain proportion should in any case be given for the purposes of directly religious work at home and abroad. A man who really believes in the universality of the Gospel will in particular subscribe to the full extent of his capacity to foreign missions. With regard to fasting it has been suggested in an earlier chapter of this book that there should be some personal rule of self-denial in a man's life. A table of fasts and days of abstinence is printed in the Prayer-book, though the Church of England does not normally prescribe in detail how such days are to be observed. It is worth remarking that the spirit is not necessarily in contradiction to the letter; but meticulous outward observances are not of the essence of Christianity, nor is it desirable to obtrude such observances in an ostentatious manner in mixed society. The rule of the Gospel with regard both to almsgiving and to fasting is that such things should be done in secret. It is usual, however, for Church people, at least in normal circumstances, to pay some special regard to the observance of Lent, and particularly of Holy Week, as a season of fasting and self-denial, and also (with a less degree of strictness) to the four weeks of Advent as leading up to Christmas. It is a good thing to enter into the observance of these and other seasons of the Christian year so far as circumstances permit: and at the least to make a point, if it is at all possible, of reading during Lent and Advent a more or less serious book of a religious or theological kind, or in other ways endeavouring to deepen, by some special practice or observance, the inward devotional life. The Sunday Collects, Epistles, and Gospels are of course appointed with special reference to the significance of the various seasons in the Church's year, and provide suitable passages for private meditation at such times. Advantage may also be taken of the special courses of sermons and additional services provided in almost every parish during the seasons of Lent and Advent. Loyalty to the Brotherhood in matters even of minor observance is a great principle to be borne in mind in this connexion. There is usually a method in the Church's madness, and her prescriptions and counsels are the product of a very considerable empirical acquaintance with the workings of the human soul. THE END 
7786	----	THE ONE GREAT REALITY By LOUISA CLAYTON Author of "Heart Lessons", "Loving Messages", "Winning and Warning", "Wilderness Lessons", etc. "I AM GOD, AND THERE IS NONE ELSE"-- Isa. xiv. 22. THIS BOOK IS DEDICATED to all my friends in Rusthall, in loving remembrance of our happy fellowship in the gospel during the past thirty years, with the earnest prayer that the messages may be stored up in their hearts and bring forth fruit in their lives when the voice which delivered them is still. 3, Somerville Gardens, Tunbridge Wells. FOREWORD In response to the request of an old and esteemed friend I gladly add a Foreword to the collection of Addresses embodied in this volume. I do so in recognition of the supreme importance of the great topics that have been chosen, and also in appreciation of the clear and attractive way in which the truth is set forth. May the messages find attentive and receptive readers, and be followed by deep and abiding spiritual blessing. EVAN H. HOPKINS. Woburn Chase, Addlestone, Surrey. CONTENTS I GOD, THE GREAT REALITY II GOD, OUR FATHER III THE SON OF GOD IV THE SPIRIT OF GOD V THE VOICE OF GOD VI THE HANDS OF GOD VII THE WORD OF GOD VIII HAVE FAITH IN GOD IX THE CHURCH OF GOD X THE KINGDOM OF GOD INDEX OF CONTENTS ADDRESS I GOD, THE GREAT REALITY Personal knowledge of God, the secret of happiness--Realising His Presence in prayer--Illustrations from the telephone and family life--God is our Father, Saviour, Comforter--The Living God-knowing all, and controlling everything--Illustrations from current events. ADDRESS II GOD, OUR FATHER A Chinese convert--Christ's confidence in the Father--Christ reveals the Father--Philip's prayer, "Show us the Father"--What God is to us as Father--How the minister sang the Doxology in an empty flour barrel--The glorious calling of the children of God. ADDRESS III THE SON OF GOD Christ is the Son of God from Eternity--He is sent to be the Saviour of the world--Three questions answered: Where did He come from? When did He come? Why did He come?--A working-man's experience--The story of the pearl necklace--Christ's work of redemption--Sir James Simpson's dying testimony--Hymn, "He came and took me by the hand." ADDRESS IV THE SPIRIT OF GOD God is a Spirit--True spiritual worship--The Spirit of God in Creation and Salvation--The New Birth--The work of the Holy Spirit convincing of sin, and revealing Christ--Searchlights--The loveliness of Christ--The Holy Ghost like a Mother--The Comforter. ADDRESS V THE VOICE OF GOD Jacob's ladder, a type of Christ--Jacob brought face to face with God--What it is to hear the Voice of God--God's first call to man in the Garden of Eden--A perfect link of communication between God and man--The Voice of God speaking in His Word. ADDRESS VI THE HANDS OF GOD Why St. John wrote his Gospel--The safety of the believer--God's hands in Creation, Providence and Redemption--The "Scarred Hands"--The story of a brave shepherd lad--The Hands of Jesus wounded for our transgressions--The Three Crosses. ADDRESS VII THE WORD OF GOD The Glory of God seen in Nature--The Glory of God revealed in the Bible--The dying woman and her rich inheritance--God's Word brings wisdom, conversion, joy and light to the heart of man--Spurgeon's text in the Crystal Palace--A Chinese convert "behaving the Bible"--The Torch that will light you home--A neglected Bible. ADDRESS VIII HAVE FAITH IN GOD Abraham the Friend of God--The greatness of his faith--Faith the gate into Life--Faith the link between the sinner and the Saviour--A missionary's faith rewarded--Illustrations from the telegraph and electricity--The wonders wrought by the touch of faith--Great faith brings Heaven into our souls--The difference between believing and committing. ADDRESS IX THE CHURCH OF GOD The Church of God: Past, Present, Future--Its Beginning and Growth--The Church the Body of Christ, a Living Union--The Church the Bride of Christ, a Loving Relationship--The Glory of this Union--Three Great Surprises--The Old Man's Message; Love, Eternal Love--The Four Precious Words--"Labelled and Ready"--The Glorious Future of the Church of God--The Church will show forth God's Grace and Glory in the Ages to come. ADDRESS X THE KINGDOM OF GOD "Bringing the King back"--One King, Jesus, His entrance into Jerusalem--The Jews rejecting their King--His Kingdom in our hearts--Make Jesus King--The Cross the Way to the Throne--The dying thief received into the Kingdom--The King's Victory over the Powers of Darkness--The Coming King--The Glory of the Lord revealed--Christ's Reign on Earth--Rutherford's testimony--Miss Havergal's Prayer--The Eternal Kingdom. ADDRESS I GOD, THE GREAT REALITY PORTION OF SCRIPTURE--Hebrews xi. 1-6. God is the one great Reality. Will you close your eyes for a moment and say those words over again very slowly so as to let them burn into your inmost heart and soul. The Word of God tells us that "The Son of God is come and hath given us an understanding that we may know Him that is true": this means that we may personally know Him that is Reality. In the wonder of that moment when we first know that God is real and that God is near, then we cry out, "My God, how wonderful Thou art." To have personal knowledge of God is the secret of assurance and happiness, and to put real trust in Him changes our whole life, for then we can say, "I have a wonderful God." To know God is Eternal life; to know Him fully, brings "life more abundantly"; to know Him with no veil between, is glory--life. If you look again at the 6th verse of the 11th chapter of Hebrews you will notice a very clear statement: it says, "He that cometh to God must believe that He is," or to put it in other words, "the man who draws near to God must believe that there is a God." Do you believe in God? Is He real to you? Here is one test. When you pray do you realise His Presence? Is He so close to you that it is like speaking into His ear? It was this text, "He that cometh to God must believe that He is," which first awakened a worldly gentleman named Brownlow North to think about his soul. God's Spirit showed him that he had never really believed in God and that all his former religion was worthless, "for without faith it is impossible to please God." As soon as he had really learnt to know God, he devoted all his life to preaching the Gospel. He told every one that the first thing we need is _to believe there is a God_. Many of his friends who were rich and well educated were thus brought to a personal knowledge of God for the first time. He that cometh to God must believe that He is really there. Have you ever been conscious of the Presence of the living God? You must make sure that He is near before you can really pray. We have an illustration of this in the telephone. You first put the speaking tube to your mouth and then you say "Are you there?" In any case you make sure that the person to whom you wish to speak, is listening at the other end. Although you cannot see any one, you know he is holding the receiver so as to hear what you say. When you begin to pray always pause for a moment and remember that you are speaking to God. Do not say a word until the Holy Spirit puts you into direct communication with God. The Psalmist was quite sure that God was really listening to his prayer, for he says, "I love the Lord because He hath heard my voice and my supplications. Because He hath inclined His ear unto me therefore will I call upon Him as long as I live." [Footnote: Ps. cxvi. 1, 2.] And again, "I cried unto God with my voice, even unto God with my voice, and He gave ear unto me." [Footnote: Ps. lxxvii. 1.] It is in this way we realise that there is a God, a personal living God. I asked a Christian man one day if he had prayed about some work which was offered to him, and his reply was, "Yes: I am on the telephone." Can you say the same? As soon as you have spoken through the telephone you put the receiver to your ear to listen for the answer. Many people pray without expecting to get an answer. They are like children who knock at a door and then run away before it is opened. The prophet Micah says, "I will wait for God, my God will answer me." [Footnote: Mic. vii. 7.] Yes, he expected to get an answer. The Lord Jesus says, "When thou prayest, enter into thy closet, and when thou hast shut the door, pray to thy Father which is in secret." [Footnote: St. Matt. vi. 6.] When a child wants to tell his father something very private he whispers it in his ear. I daresay you have noticed that the telephone at the General Post Office is enclosed in a box, so that no one can overhear what is said. There are many things we say into God's ear which we could not tell to any one else. It makes Him very real to us, if we can say in our inmost hearts, "O God, Thou art my God, my very own Father." When we speak through the telephone we never say useless words, and our Lord tells us to avoid needless repetitions when we pray, and He adds, "for your Father knows what things you need before ever you ask Him." Just as an earthly father delights to hear his children's, voices, so our heavenly Father loves to hear us speaking to Him, for He says, "Put Me in remembrance, let us plead together." [Footnote: Isa. xliii. 26.] A child's intercourse with his father is quite simple and natural, he talks freely about everything. When you speak to God, is it an effort, or do you look up into His face with confidence and tell Him all? A child expects his father to supply all his wants and to be equal to every emergency, but we seem to have lost sight of the Father in heaven who is pledged to "supply all our need according to His riches in glory by Christ Jesus." [Footnote: Phil. iv. 13.] We must not be disappointed if we do not get all we want, because God's promise is to supply what we _need_. We often wish for things which we do not really need. If ever you lose sight of _God_, think of the wonderful lesson which Jesus teaches when He says, "If ye then being evil know how to give good gifts unto your children," and you, fathers, always get the best you can for them, "how much more" (wonderful words), "how much more shall your Father which is in heaven give good things to them that ask Him." [Footnote: St. Matt. vii. 11.] Have you ever heard God's voice saying to you, I am your Father; love Me, look to Me, trust Me, worship Me: "Open thy mouth wide and I will fill it." [Footnote: Ps. lxxxi. 10.] A godly man who was a servant used to say, "There is not in the world a kind of life more sweet and delightful than that of a continual conversation with God." He felt that God was nearer and dearer to him than any one else. This is what makes God real to us when we feel that He is _near and dear_. "Only to sit and think of God, Oh! what a joy it is!" It is just the same with your children if you are a really good, loving father, they are quite happy if they can sit close to you. Your very presence makes a great impression on them, even if you do not say a word. Is God's presence so real to you that it makes you control your temper and keeps you from saying unkind things? A boy may be troublesome sometimes, but he never really doubts his father's love for him. Do you ever doubt God's love? Oh, yes: you say, I often murmur. Then this shows that in a sense you have never really known God. People would not speak as they do about God, I mean even Christians would not talk as they do if they really knew God. We often hear people say, "I hope God will be good to us," or, "I think it very hard God does not answer my prayer." This shows they have never personally known Him. Their thoughts about God are so contrary to what they sing. For example, how much do we really mean of that sweet hymn-- "Precious thought--my Father knoweth, In His love I rest; For whate'er my Father doeth. Must be always best. Well I know the heart that planneth Nought but good for me; Joy and sorrow interwoven, Love in all I see." Do you ever doubt His wisdom and think you might have been treated better? When we really know our Father-God, then we see His wisdom even in the things that are against us. We know and we feel that they have all been working together for our good, "for He knows all." This Book in my hand is The Word of God. It is a revelation of God, and the glory of God Himself shines in every page. The first word in it is, In the beginning _God_. Perhaps you ask me, "Who is God?" I will tell you. "He is my Father." But you say, I am so sinful, I am not worthy to be called His son. That is just what I felt, so sinful, and then He revealed Himself to me as my Saviour. Ah! you say, but I am so far off, how can I find my way to Him? And that was just like me till the Holy Spirit led me to Him. When God reveals Himself to you as Father, Saviour, Comforter, then you will know that _God_ Himself is dwelling in your heart. Perhaps you ask, Will God really come and dwell in me for I am so unworthy? God Himself answers that question; "Thus saith the high and lofty One that inhabiteth eternity, whose name is Holy; I dwell in the high and holy place, with him also that is of a contrite and humble spirit, to revive the spirit of the humble, and to revive the heart of the contrite ones." [Footnote: Isa. lvii. 15.] Every one is standing now in view of God and Eternity. A very long time ago the question was asked, "Canst thou by searching find out God?" [Footnote: Job xi. 7.] The only way we can find Him is by our spiritual necessities. If your soul needs life, you will find Him. If your spirit needs reviving, you will find Him. As this text says, I come "to revive the heart of the contrite ones." When your children talk about their Father, he is a real Person to them; that is what God wants to be to us, a real personal God. He says, "I will be to them a God." [Footnote: Heb. viii. 10.] I know a little boy who whispered to his aunt one night when she was giving him the goodnight kiss, "Oh, Auntie, I sometimes wonder whether there is a God. Are you quite sure?" "Yes," said the aunt very earnestly, "I am quite sure. You see, I have known Him so long and He is so much to me, I am quite sure." The child was satisfied. If you will turn again to Psalm cxvi. you will see a wonderful unfolding of the secret feelings of David's heart, and as we read it we cannot help saying to ourselves, the man who wrote this experience had very close dealings with some One about his soul. Who is this Some One? Do you know? Perhaps you think your religion is good enough to take you to heaven when you die, but alas! it begins and ends with the "Unknown God." How different to David's experience when he says out of a full heart, "I love the Lord," or as the word means, "I am full of love," and then he tells of his confidence in God; "I believed, therefore I have spoken," as if he had said, "God is so real to me now, I must tell others"; and he adds, "I will walk before the Lord in the land of the living." We can walk with God in our daily life just as Enoch did. A good man said a short time ago, If ever I pass any one in the street with a careworn, anxious face, I long to say to them, "There is _God_," "Have faith in God." St. John said, "We have known and believed the love that God hath to us and in us--God is love." [Footnote: 1 John iv. 16.] This is the central fact, the one great reality in life, and when once it is grasped there is nothing to compare with it. Why is there so much unrest, so much ungodliness, and lawlessness in our midst? We are forgetting God. The only remedy is coming back to God. A poor woman who has been a Christian for many years was telling me about her mother's sudden death the week before, and then she added, "I have never known God as I do now. The future used to look so dark, but now that I know Him as the Living God, I can only see _life_. I cannot tell you what He is to me." Her face, which bore traces of her recent sorrow, shone with a new peace and a new joy, which made me rejoice. I was sure that God had revealed Himself to her in her time of need. Those precious words had come true in her case, "In that hour Jesus rejoiced in spirit and said, I thank Thee, O Father, Lord of heaven and earth, that Thou hast hid these things from the wise and prudent and hast revealed them unto babes; even so, Father, for so it seemed good in Thy sight." [Footnote: St. Luke x. 21.] Are you saying, "My soul thirsteth for God, for the Living God"? Then you will have a Personal revelation of God Himself, for that is the only way the life of God can enter into your soul and mine. Are you longing to find God? It is not that we find Him, but that He finds us, making Himself to us the great Reality. We may know wonderful things _about_ Him, but that is not enough. We must really know Him in our hearts! The very longing which you have for this personal revelation of God comes from the loving Father Himself, and He says, "I will give them a heart to know Me": [Footnote: Jer. xxiv. 7.] so we need never think, ah! it is beyond me, for He promises to _give_ us the heart to know Him. I had a striking instance of this some years ago. A working man who could not read or write told me that he had been converted at our meeting. He died in the Union Infirmary, and I heard afterwards that he had been a blessing to many in the ward. He said to me one day, "I want to tell you _what God is to me_." In very simple words he described how he could see it all plainly. How in the beginning, sin came into the Garden of Eden and then God revealed Himself to the sinner so as to bring him back to Himself. Again and again his simple testimony was, I must tell every one _what God is to me_. This man had learnt to know God personally through his own need as a sinner, so it is not by earthly education that we find God, but through the Holy Spirit's teaching, and then in the Word He reveals Himself more fully. It is "through the knowledge of God and of Jesus our Lord that grace and peace are multiplied to us," [Footnote: 2 Pet. i. 2.] so if we have not more and more grace and peace coming into our souls it is because we do not really know God. It makes all the difference in our life when we can say, God is now my living Father; for it means God in His infinite love has taken my life into His, and by this personal link of love I take His life into mine. When He assures us that He is the Living God, it means that He lives and cares for us. All things, great and small, are under His control. We have an illustration of this in the present war. Think of our Navy, scattered over seven oceans, yet all under the control of the Commander-in-Chief, Sir John Jellicoe. Not one vessel can move without his orders, no ship can be attacked without his knowledge; the wireless apparatus is at work night and day communicating every detail. It brings Sir John word of any submarine sighted, or of any movement in all the seas round our country, and it carries his orders far and near. When God tells us that He is the living God, we know that He cares for us in the same way as a mother cares for her children. We had a touching illustration of this about a year ago. Do you remember how we were thrilled with horror when the Archduke Francis Ferdinand, heir to the throne of Austria, was shot while driving through the city? He expired in a few minutes, leaving three children. In those few moments he turned to his wife who was seated by his side and said these pathetic words, "Sophie, live for our children." He did not know that she too had been mortally wounded and would be powerless to care for their orphan children. It is because our Father-God is the living God, that He can say to us to-day just as He said to the Old Testament saints, "I am living for you, caring for you, protecting you." "Even to your old age I am He; and even to hoar hairs will I carry you: I have made and I will bear, even I will carry and will deliver you." [Footnote: Isa. xlvi. 4.] When He says to you, "I am God and there is none else," [Footnote 2: Isa. xlv. 22.] does your heart answer, Yes: "Even from everlasting to everlasting Thou art God." [Footnote 3: Ps. xc. 2.] ADDRESS II GOD OUR FATHER PORTION OF SCRIPTURE--Matthew vii 24-34. In the chapter we have just read there is a great deal about our daily home life, and the word "Father" is mentioned twelve times, so it shows that God knows all about the everyday work. It is a grand thing when we find this out. A poor woman in China was converted, and very soon the lady missionary who visited her noticed that now her house was very clean and tidy, and told her how glad she was to see it. The woman smiled, and said in her own simple way, "You see my Father God and the Lord Jesus are constantly coming in and out, so I like to keep it nice." She realised the Presence of God. "The eyes of the Lord are in every place." [Footnote: Prov. xv. 3.] If we do not find God _everywhere_ we practically end by finding Him _nowhere_. A busy Christian mother told me that she begins each day and lives all the day long saying in her heart, "In Thy Presence and by Thy Power." We must not only _say_ it, but act upon it as a _reality_, and then it will be our daily experience to be in touch with God. There was one word which was very precious to Christ and which was often on His lips, and that was "Father." You remember how He stood one day at the grave of His friend Lazarus. All the mourners were standing round Him. Lazarus had been dead four days. It seemed utterly impossible that he could be restored to life again. No one expected it. What did Jesus do? "Jesus lifted up His eyes and said '_Father_.'" [Footnote: St. John xi. 41.] Those eyes were still wet with tears, for a few verses before we read "Jesus wept." Then He lifted up His eyes and said "_Father_": that was enough. There is _everything_ in that word. It just meant, "I have told Father all about it." He knows, He loves, He cares, and all things are possible with Him. There is no limit to His power and His love. Then the command was given to those standing near--"Take ye away the stone." Was Christ going into the cave? No, the dead man was to _come out_. So we have first the wondrous name "Father," and then the loud cry, "Lazarus, come forth," and he that was dead came out of the cold grave', out of the region of death into the land of the living. All through His life on earth our Lord always speaks to God as Father. One verse especially brings out the perfect intimacy, the perfect confidence, the perfect love between the Lord Jesus and the Father. Jesus says, "All things are delivered unto Me of My Father, and no man knoweth the Son but the Father; neither knoweth any man the Father save the Son and he to whomsoever the Son will reveal Him." [Footnote: St. Matt. xi 27.] The last words of this verse are very precious, for they show that not only has the Son perfect knowledge of the Father, but He reveals or makes known the Father so that you and I may know Him as our Father. You remember Philip prayed, "Lord, show us the Father, that is what we want," [Footnote: St. John xiv. 8.] and Christ answered, "He who has seen Me has seen the Father." Yes, "He is the image of the invisible God." God said to Moses, "Thou canst not see My Face and live for there shall no man see me and live," [Footnote: Exod. xxxiii. 20.] and for hundreds of years no one saw God. Then came the wondrous gift and the wondrous revelation. God gave His only Begotten Son, and _in Him_ we see the Father. Praise the Lord! the glorious light has come to us in our darkness. For "God, who commanded the light to shine out of darkness, hath shined in our hearts to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God _in the face of Jesus Christ._" [Footnote: Cor. iv. 6.] The Apostle John says, "We beheld His glory, the glory as of the only begotten of the Father, full of grace and truth." "No man hath seen God at any time," [Footnote: St. John i. 18.] and before Christ came the verse stopped there; but after He came, then God was fully revealed; so the verse finishes with the words "the only begotten Son which is in the bosom of the Father, He hath declared Him." Will you look up now, and say, "Lord, show _me_ the Father," and He will reveal Him to you, because this is what He promises to do. Look at the last line of the 27th verse of Matthew xi. where Christ says, "He to whomsoever the Son will reveal Him," and without a pause He adds the wonderful invitation, "Come unto Me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest." It is to the weary and heavy laden that He reveals the Father. He invites them to share the fellowship He has with the Father, the peace and joy and rest of knowing the Father. Why does He invite the weary ones to come to Him? because He felt in Himself such joy in this close fellowship with God, He wanted every one to have it too. He felt that His experience of what the Father was to Him was so rich, He longed for them to come and share it, "I will give you rest." It is as if He said, "I will give you the same rest I have when I am tired and hungry and thirsty; the same comfort that I have when I am misunderstood and reviled; the rest, the comfort, the peace I have in My Father." We have the same assurance when the Holy Ghost says in St. Paul's letter to the Corinthians, "Grace be to you and peace from God our Father and from the Lord Jesus Christ. Blessed be God, even the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and the God of all comfort." [Footnote: 2 Cor. i, 2, 3.] How can you and I know what the Lord Jesus found in His Father's love? He has graciously made it known to us in the four Gospels. There the veil is drawn aside and we see how all through His life He was in close fellowship with the Father. We can hear the very words which the Son spoke to His Father in the hour of deep agony: "O My Father, if it be possible let this cup pass from Me; nevertheless not as I will, but as Thou wilt." [Footnote: St. Matt. xxvi. 39.] The last words on His lips when He was dying on the Cross were, "Father, into Thy hands I commend My spirit." [Footnote: St. Luke xxiii. 46.] He said to His disciples the last night, "You will leave Me alone; and yet I am not alone, because the Father is with Me." All through His life He spoke of His oneness with the Father and the joy of doing and finishing the work which He gave Him to do. We too can have the sense of God's Presence in our souls at all times. A Christian woman who was suffering from neuralgia told me that one night when she could not sleep, a voice seemed to whisper softly to her, "Like as a father pitieth his children, so the Lord pitieth them that fear Him, for He knoweth our frame, He knows all about our poor bodies, for He made them," [Footnote: Ps. ciii. 13, 14.] and with those words of comfort in her mind she fell into a refreshing sleep. If you will turn to the 6th chapter of St. Matthew again you will see in the 8th verse that our Heavenly Father knows about something else. "He knows what things we have need of before we ask Him." The secret of what it is to have God as our Father, and the sweetness of it, comes out in these three homely questions, What shall we eat, what shall we drink, what shall we wear? And Christ says, [Footnote: St. Matt, vi. 31, 32.] Take no thought, that means, do not be anxious about these things, for your Heavenly Father knoweth that you have need of all these things. Yes, if He knows, that is enough, and then we have only to trust Him for all. Do you find your faith failing sometimes? It is one thing to trust God when the wages are coming in regularly, and quite another thing to trust Him when times are bad. It is just _then_ we learn to look less at our faith and more at God's Faithfulness. A minister once gave a little bit of his experience about this. He said, "It is only as we really take God's promises and plant our feet upon them that we shall find faith abiding in times of testing. The last penny may be gone but GOD is there. I know this to be true. "I have often said when preaching, 'It takes real faith in God to be able to put your head into an empty flour barrel and sing the doxology.' My wife had heard me say this, and one morning she called me to come into the kitchen. I said, 'What do you want me for?' She replied, 'I want you to come out here and sing.' I thought this queer, so I went to see what it all meant. "In the middle of the kitchen was an empty flour barrel that she had just dusted out. 'Now, my dear,' she said, 'I have often heard you say one could put his head into an empty flour barrel and sing, "Praise God from Whom all blessings flow," if he believed what God says. Now here is your chance, practise what you preach.' "There was the empty flour barrel staring at me with open mouth, and my purse was empty too. I looked for my faith, but could not find it; I looked for a way of escape, but could not find one, for my wife blocked the doorway with the dust brush covered with flour. "I said, 'I will put my head in and sing on one condition.' "'What's that?' asked my wife. "'On condition that you will put your head in and sing too. You know you promised to share all my joys and sorrows.' "She consented, so we put our heads in and sang the doxology, and we told our heavenly Father 'all about our need.' Yes, we had a good time, and when we got our heads out we were a good bit powdered up, which we took as a token that there was more flour to follow! "Sure enough, though no one knew of our need, the next day a barrel of flour was sent. Where it came from or who sent it we never knew, but our heavenly Father knew that we had 'need of these things.'" Does not this simple testimony teach us all a lesson? I wonder how many of us can say from our hearts-- Those who trust do not worry; Those who worry do not trust. Which are you doing, dear friends? Trusting or worrying? Count on God. He never fails, and He knows just what to do. The moment a difficulty comes, look up and say "Father," and at once the burden will roll off, He will undertake all for you. I had an illustration of this one day when I was going across the Common. It was very windy, and two little girls lost their hats; they were quite at their wits' end, till they caught sight of their father in the distance, and at once they called to him, "Father, father." That was enough, in a minute he ran to help them. I have often found great help in looking up again and again during the day and just saying "Father." Try it. You, fathers, often say to your children, "If you want me just call me." That is what our heavenly Father tells us to do. To know God means not only to trust Him, but also to _treat_ Him as a Father. If you will read the 6th chapter of St. Matthew carefully when you are at home, you will see that it gives the experience of the child of God with the Father for one whole day. It includes all that we need during the day:--food, clothing, forgiveness, victory over temptation, grace to do God's will, and grace in dealing with others. This experience is so deep, so real, so entirely something between Father and child, that in this chapter we find the words "_in secret_" no less than six times. When the little child is looking up into a loving father's face and talking to him, it never thinks of those around. "In secret" means a sweet sense of His Presence in the soul and of close communion with Him. "I write unto you, little children, because you have known the Father." [Footnote: I St. John ii. 13.] God is our Father, because He is the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ: this is one of the greatest treasures of Redeeming Grace. All the teaching about God as Father comes from the lips of Jesus, and it is in this way He reveals the Father to us; so if we would know Him, we must drink in His teaching and watch His life of communion with God. By His life He reveals to us the reality of the experience into which He calls us to enter. He also shows us the way. He not only says "Come to Me," but also Come through Me. "I am the Way: no man cometh unto the Father but by Me." [Footnote: St. John xiv. 6.] It was by dying for us He opened the Way. "God sent forth His Son to redeem them that were under the law, that we might receive the adoption of sons." "And because ye are sons, God hath sent forth the Spirit of His Son into your hearts crying, Abba, Father." [Footnote: Gal. iv. 6, 7] So we are not only received into God's family, but we have also all the privileges of sonship. We are made "heirs of God, joint heirs with Christ." Perhaps you are thinking of your unworthiness; like the Prodigal Son you are ready to say "Father, I have sinned again and again, I am not worthy to be called Thy son." God knows just what you are and what you have been, and He Himself has asked the question, "How shall I put you among the children?" It is a question which none but the Lord would ever have thought of, and it would never have been answered if He Himself had not answered it. It is a wonderful answer: for He says, "Thou shalt call Me, My Father." [Footnote: Jer. iii. 19.] God Himself puts us sinners among His children, and no one else can do it, and He keeps us; for He says, "Thou shalt not turn away from Me." How does He do it? By creating a new life in us, we are "born again." The old nature is not improved, but a new heart is given. "A new heart also will I give you, and a new Spirit will I put within you." [Footnote: Ezek. xxxvi. 26.] Can you say, "God has sent forth the Spirit of His Son into my heart," and now I can call Him my Father? Being made the children of God by adoption and grace, let us enjoy the privileges which are secured to us; let us act as loving children should do. Does it all seem too good to be true? Trust His Word, "As many as received Him, to them gave He power to become the sons of God, even to them that believe on His Name." [Footnote: St. John i. 12] Some of you remember the joy which thrilled you when you first received Him as your Saviour, but perhaps it was not until afterwards that you realised the blessedness of your new position as sons of God. The Holy Spirit leads us on step by step. First, He assures us that "there is no condemnation," then He sets us free from the bondage of sin and death. [Footnote: Rom. viii. i, 2.] All is changed now, we feel the confidence of a child who has free access to his father at all times. There are three things which mark the children of God, the spiritual mind, the spiritual walk, and the spiritual talk. "The Spirit itself beareth witness with our spirits that we are the children of God." [Footnote: Rom. viii. 16.] We then call out with the consciousness of sonship, "Father, Father." The witness of the Spirit was given to me soon after my conversion and thrilled me with joyful assurance. It came to me when a Christian doctor was telling his children about the way of salvation. He drew a line on the carpet with a stick and said, "On one side there is DEATH, on the other, LIFE," and I said to myself, "I know which side of the line I am on." So it was by means of this simple remark that I found out that I was really a child of God, and my heart began from that time to cling to God as my Father. Every day since then I have experienced the blessedness of trusting Him and knowing Him as my Father. Is this your happy portion? If not, why not? ADDRESS III THE SON OF GOD PORTION OF SCRIPTURE--St. John i. 1-18, 29-34. "THIS IS THE SON OF GOD." These are the closing words of John the Baptist's striking testimony, What a grand message! How it thrills us through and through! On and on the glorious words ring out, "_The Son of God is come_." Many years after, when the Apostle John was a very old man, he wrote in one of his letters, "We know that the Son of God is come." [Footnote: I John v. 20.] Now look back to the first words of our chapter. "In the beginning was the Word." Who is the Word? It is "the Son of God." When was the beginning? Long, long ago in Eternity that is past "the Son of God was the brightness of His Father's glory and the express image," [Footnote: Heb. i. 3.] or exact representation, "of His Person." In His last prayer with His disciples our Lord speaks of "the glory which He had with the Father before the world was." [Footnote: St. John xvii. 5.] The first verse of this Gospel takes us back long before this world was created. Then we come to the creation in verse 3: "All things were made by Him." This is exactly what is said in the first verse of the Bible of another beginning, "In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth." Long before this world was created we read of God's dear Son as "the image of the invisible God, the first-born of every creature." All things were created by Him and for Him, and He is before all things, the Eternal Son of God. [Footnote: Col. i. 15-17.] He says, "I was set up from everlasting from the beginning, before ever the earth was. When He appointed the foundations of the earth, then I was by Him as one brought up with Him; I was daily His delight, rejoicing always before Him: rejoicing in the habitable parts of the earth, and My delights were with the sons of men." [Footnote: Gen. i. 26.] How wonderful it is to think that in the Eternity that is past, and long before the world was made, God had two grand purposes. One was to create man to be the head of the whole human race. So, when the moment came that the earthly home was ready, then God said, "Let Us make man in Our image, after Our likeness." [Footnote: Prov. viii. 23, 29, 30, 31.] The other grand purpose in the Eternal counsel between the Father and His Son was to redeem man after he had fallen through sin. The Redeemer is the Son of God Himself, so He was foreordained to this work of redemption before the Creation of the world--"The Lamb slain from the foundation of the world." [Footnote: Rev. xiii. 8.] Hundreds of years rolled on, and then the glorious message from heaven was sounded forth over the plains of Bethlehem:--"Behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy ... for unto you is born this day a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord." [Footnote: St. Luke ii. 10, 11.] THE SON OF GOD IS COME _Where_ did He come from? _When_ did He come? _Why_ did He come? These are some of the questions we must try to answer. First, where did He come from? He came forth from God. He was in the bosom of the Father from all Eternity. He said to the disciples, "I came forth from the Father and am come into the world." [Footnote: St. John xvi. 28.] We have read of two beginnings, now we will look at another beginning. In the first chapter of St. Mark's Gospel, and the first verse, we read, "The beginning of the Gospel of Jesus Christ, the Son of God." Here we have the beginning of all that grand and glorious work of Salvation which is still being carried on by our Lord at the Father's right hand in heaven. So we read of three beginnings, and these three are all of God. There is one more which is also of God. It is the beginning of the life of Christ in the soul. When we read about "the beginning of the gospel of Jesus Christ," we know it means the beginning of His life on earth. Have you ever asked whether there has been a beginning of His life _in your heart_? Is it only what you read about, or is it a personal experience in your soul? Alas! many join in singing the chorus, "What a wonderful Saviour," who cannot say, "He is my own dear Saviour." They have never been able to say "My spirit hath rejoiced in God my Saviour." What is this personal experience of the life of Christ in the soul? It is what the Apostle Paul describes when he says, "I have been crucified with Christ, nevertheless I live, yet not I, but Christ _liveth in me_." [Footnote: Gal. ii. 20.] "Once far from God and dead in sin, No light my heart could see: But in God's Word the light I found, Now Christ liveth in me." In writing to the Galatians he says, "My little children, you for whom I am again undergoing, as it were, the pains of child-birth, until Christ is fully formed within you" [Footnote: Gal. iv. 19.] (Weymouth's translation). THE SON OF GOD IS COME. Secondly, When did He come? "It was when the fulness of the time was come," [Footnote: Gal. iv. 4.] that is when the time was ripe for it. God's clock is never too fast or too slow: so at the exact moment "when the fulness of time was come God sent forth _His Son_." Still and always His Son, but now "made of a woman," "God, manifest in the flesh"--the God-man. THE SON OF GOD IS COME. What is His Name? God Himself gave the Name. "Thou shalt call His name Jesus." [Footnote: St. Matt. i. 21.] No other name was to be given: it is a command, "_thou shalt_ call His name Jesus, for He shall save": that is why He is _come_. "He is come to seek and to save that which was lost." "Thou shalt call His name Jesus, for He Himself shall save His people from their sins." He is presented to us as a living personal Saviour. The promise is, "He, _Himself_ shall save." It means that He will abide in each believing soul for ever. Yes, moment by moment and for ever. He abides in us as the Deliverer from all sin. What a glorious promise! Are you living in the reality of it? "Jesus! Name of wondrous love, Human Name of God above." It is the God-given Name. "The Name which is above every name." Is it precious to you? THE SON OF GOD IS COME. Thirdly, Why did He come? The King sends ambassadors to represent him in foreign countries, but God sent "His own dearly loved Son." "For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son." [Footnote: St. John iii. 16.] The little word "_so_" means love in its unutterable fulness, and God is the source of it. Have you ever thanked Him for the unspeakable gift of His dear Son? Link the two words together, _God--the world_: it means God and you: God and me. Then link together _loved_ and _gave_. It will take Eternity to get to the bottom of those two words. Now add that other precious text, "He loved me: He gave Himself for me," [Footnote: Gal. ii. 20.] and you have "the grace of God bringing salvation." Six times in the Epistles we find the words "He gave Himself," and in I Peter ii. 24, it says, "Who His own self bare our sins in His own body on the tree." This is why the Son of God is come, and it is this which makes Him so personally real to us when earthly things are fading away. I knew a working man who had a long, painful illness which lasted three years. I rejoice to say that soon after it began he was converted. He was so earnest that his one thought was to tell others what a dear Saviour he had found, and many were led to Christ through his example and testimony. His mother was converted through him and she is now carrying on the Christian work which he began. What was it that changed this man? It was the Holy Spirit revealing Christ to him as a living personal Saviour. The day before he died he said to his sister, "I had such a lovely time with the Master this morning in between the pain. Oh! it was like healing balm to me and He gave me a little hymn-- "'Jesus loves me, He who died Heaven's gate to open wide: He will wash away my sin, Let His little child come in.'" How wonderful that a man nearly 40 years of age should find such comfort in a simple little hymn. But it is thus the Lord reveals Himself. Do you feel that you are like a lost sheep? "The Son of man is come to seek and to save that which was lost." [Footnote: St. Luke xix. 10.] THE SON OF GOD IS COME! It is a fact, a certainty. A great reality. Nothing can take it from us. It is a living experience in our inmost hearts. "And we know," says the Apostle John, "that the Son of God is come, and hath given us an understanding, that we may know Him that is true; and we are in Him that is true, even in His Son, Jesus Christ. This is the true God, and eternal life." [Footnote: I John v. 20.] The Son of God is come and God presents Him to us as His Perfect Son and our Perfect Saviour. Twice during His earthly ministry there was a voice from heaven which said, "This is My beloved Son in whom I am well pleased": "In whom I have perfect delight now and for ever." Can you reply, "This is my Beloved Saviour and He is everything to me"? [Footnote: St. Matt. iii. 17 and xvii. 5.] He is either everything or nothing. Are you like the merchant in the parable, "seeking goodly pearls, who when he had found one pearl of great price went and sold all that he had and bought it"? Is your heart singing "I've found the pearl of greatest price, My heart doth sing for joy; And sing I must for Christ is mine! Christ shall my song employ!" A Chinese convert told one of the missionaries that he happened to take up a Testament which had been sold to the people of the house by a colporteur, but they could not see the meaning of it, so they laid it on one side. "But," he went on to say, "from the moment my eyes lighted upon it, I was greatly attracted by it. So I read and kept on reading till the meaning dawned upon me, and then," he added with a beaming face, "I found the Pearl of Great Price." This reminds me of that strange story of a very valuable pearl necklace worth £117,000 which was lost about a year ago. It was sent by post from Paris to London when it suddenly disappeared and no one knew what had become of it. A very large reward was offered to any one who found it. But now comes the wonderful part of the story. One morning, a man of the name of Horne was on his way to the factory where he was employed when he saw a large match-box lying in the gutter in St. Paul's Road, near London. He picked it up and put it in his pocket. Presently he went into a public-house to have a glass of beer and there he met two of his mates. He took the match-box out of his pocket, pushed it open, and seeing it was filled with what he thought were white beads or marbles, he said to them, "What do you think of these, I've just picked them up?" "Oh! they're no good," replied one of the men, "throw them away." However, Horne decided to take them to the Police Station. The officers looked at them and said they were worth nothing, but gave him a receipt for them. On their way to the factory they turned into another public-house for a drink, and while there Horne found one of the marbles loose in his coat pocket. "Oh!" he said, "I've got one of them left." Holding it up in his fingers, he looked round and asked, "Will any one give me a penny for it?" But no one would have it. In another public-house where they stopped, he offered the pearl for a glass of beer, but no one accepted the offer. The pearl which was worth many hundreds of pounds was despised by one and all. Then Horne offered it for a packet of cigarettes, but again it was handed back with the remark, "That's no good to me." So one of his friends suggested that he should crush it under the heel of his boot as it was no good. Later on when some one asked him what he had done with it he said he had thrown it away. It is a wonderful story and quite true. "Oh!" you say, "what a thousand pities, if that man Horne had only known its value, it would have made him a rich man in one day." Are you not surprised that none of these men ever thought of finding out the real value of that pearl? But is it not stranger still that scarcely any one ever stops to inquire who Jesus Christ really is, and the meaning of His death on the Cross? You listened just now with astonishment to the questions and answers about this valuable pearl, and yet the same questions are being asked every day about another Pearl, God's Pearl of great price, and people are treating it with the same indifference. How the angels must look on and wonder! There are two questions which you have to answer now. First, What think ye of Christ, whose Son is He? Can you say, "He is the Son of God"? Think of the Glory of His Person: it is "the glory of the only begotten of the Father." Think of His Divine Mission: sent by God to be the Saviour now and the Judge by and by. Think of Him as God's great Gift to a perishing world. Have you received Him? The other question which you have to answer is, "What shall I do with Jesus?" Remember God hath given to us Eternal Life and this life is in His Son. "He who has the Son has life, and he who has not the Son of God has not life." [Footnote: I John v. 12.] Jesus is pleading with you, saying, "Ye will not come," that means, you are unwilling to come to Me "that you may have Life." [Footnote: St. John v. 40.] By and by you will have to face another question, "What will He do with me?" "The Son of God is come." It is God Himself who presents Him to us: "Behold the Lamb of God who taketh away the sin of the world." [Footnote: St. John i. 29.] He is the One whom God Himself has provided and set apart: and "now He has appeared once for all to put away sin by the sacrifice of Himself." [Footnote: Heb. ix. 26.] There on Calvary's Cross before the eyes of crowds of people "who came together to see that sight," He is set forth as the spotless Son of God who was made an offering for sin. He it is "whom God now sets forth to us as a propitiation." [Footnote: Rom. iii. 25.] He it is, and no other, whom God sets forth as a Mercy seat, the Blood-sprinkled Mercy Seat. God's eye rests on Christ and His finished work, and because it is a full, perfect and sufficient satisfaction for all our sins, "God sets Him forth in order to demonstrate His righteousness that He may be shown to be righteous Himself and the giver of righteousness to those who believe in Jesus." Oh, what a comfort it is to me to know that He is always there standing before God as the Righteous One, and therefore when God looks at me in all my unworthiness He does not see me, He only sees His dear Son. When that godly physician Sir James Simpson was dying, the minister who was by his bedside asked if he had any doubts. He looked up and said, "I have no doubts; when I stand before God I shall just _hold up Christ to God."_ This is why Jesus is come, and this is why Jesus died, that the believing soul may hold Him up to God as "the One who has been made unto us wisdom, righteousness, sanctification and redemption," [Footnote: I Cor. i. 30.] and it is all God's doing, from first to last. I love to say to myself,-- "I'm a poor sinner and nothing at all, But Jesus Christ is my all in all." Our salvation depends on believing God's Word, that He has accepted our Surety. When God raised Him from the dead, it was a proof that all the claims of His holiness and justice had been fully met and satisfied. The debt is paid because Jesus paid it all. He gave Himself as a ransom--the redemption price for all. So now God sets Him forth in all His untold preciousness and proclaims the glorious message, "_Deliver him_, that poor helpless sinner, from going down into the pit. I have found a ransom." [Footnote: Job xxxiii. 24.] What was the price to be paid? "The Son of man is come to give His life a ransom for many." "We are redeemed, not with silver and gold, but with the precious blood of Christ." Who can tell how precious? "More precious far than gold." Think what it _cost_ the Father: He gave His only Son. "Having yet one son, His well-beloved, He said, I will send Him." Think what it cost the Son of God. Think of His agony in the garden, and then the hiding of His Father's face, and last of all the pouring out His soul unto death on the cross. Our redemption is doubly precious, not only because of the price paid, but because of the Divine and Holy One who paid it, the Lord of glory, even the Son of God Himself, "Which things even the _angels_ desire to look into." [Footnote: 1 Pet. i. 12.] They long to see into the depths of this wondrous redeeming love. Can you sing this chorus from your heart-- "Precious, precious, Precious is my Lord to me; Precious, precious, Everything in Him I see." Think of what we have been rescued from! Christ has redeemed us from sin, and death and hell. Think of the cost of this great salvation, and then ask yourself, how much is it worth to me? We shall only be able to answer that question when we are safe home in the glory. Then we shall be looking back on death, looking back on the Judgment of the great White Throne, as never having come into it: looking back on the old world which has passed away. "When this passing world is done, When has sunk yon glorious sun, When I go to Christ in glory, Looking o'er life's finished story; Then, Lord, shall I fully know Not till then--how much I owe." Think of the last plague which God sent upon Egypt. It was not till the midnight cry, that exceeding great and bitter cry had resounded through the land of Egypt showing that the destroying angel had entered the houses of the Egyptians, leaving death and desolation there; it was not till _the judgment had actually come_ that the Israelites realised the delivering power of the blood which they had sprinkled on their doorposts. Think of their wonder and of their thankfulness. They had believed and obeyed before, but _now_ their hearts are filled with gratitude and praise. If you have really cast yourself and all your sins on Christ, then you too will join in the new song, saying, "Thou art worthy, for Thou wast slain and hast redeemed us to God by Thy Blood." [Footnote: Rev. v. 9.] To _receive_ Christ now into our hearts by faith is to be born of God: [Footnote: St. John. i. 12, 13.] spiritual life is imparted to the believer. To _feed_ upon Christ day by day is to live by Him: [Footnote: St. John vi. 57.] this is the evidence of life in the believer. To see Christ by and by and to be like Him, is life perfected in glory. [Footnote: 1 John iii. 2.] Dear fellow sinners, let me entreat you most earnestly in the light of an Eternity that is coming, and as you value your precious, never-dying souls, do not trifle with God's unspeakable Gift. "How shall we escape if we neglect so great salvation?" [Footnote: Heb. ii. 3.] No one either in heaven or upon earth can answer that question. If the lost in hell could speak to us they would tell us that there is _no_ escape. THE SON OF GOD IS COME, and oh! the wonder of it all, "He came to where I was." The words of this beautiful hymn describe it-- "I looked and there was none to help, 'No man' could meet my case: A weary, world-worn heart was mine, Without a resting place. Then One drew near, the Christ of God, With pitying eyes He scanned, Jesus came to me where I was, And took me by the hand. "He led me first to Calvary's mount, And, oh! what sight it gave! The agony, the life out-poured, It cost Him there to save. My heart fell broken at His feet, Who could such love withstand? The love that came to where I was, And took me by the hand. "He lifted me upon a rock, Round me His light He shed; He poured His peace into my heart, He healed, He held, He fed. Ah! then I knew that holy One, The whole could understand. The One who came to where I was, And took me by the hand. "And since that day, through all the days, His love my way has planned: He comes to bless me where I am, He takes me by the hand. This glorious One is all to me, He shall my life command, The Christ who came to where I was, And took me by the hand." ADDRESS IV THE SPIRIT OF GOD PORTION OF SCRIPTURE--St. John iv. 1-26 God is a Spirit. Look at this poor woman standing at the well and let us try and realise what a wonderful revelation it was which Christ made known to her soul about God. He told her that God is Father, that God is Saviour, and that God is Spirit; three Persons but one God. The Lord opened her heart and she grasped this wondrous truth. Christ said to her, "God the Father is seeking you, He is longing for you to come to Him." Then He let her feel and see that He is the Saviour. Was it not wonderful that she was the first to tell the good news that He is "the Saviour of the world"? [Footnote: St. John iv. 42.] Christ said to her, "God is a Spirit," and she found that no one else but God could touch her heart. Until the Spirit of God comes into our hearts, we cannot really know God personally or have communion with Him. "Now we have received, not the spirit of the world, but the Spirit which is of God; that we might know the things that are freely given to us of God." [Footnote: 1 Cor. ii. 12.] Although our hearts are so sinful the Holy Spirit is longing to come in. He found an entrance into the heart of this poor woman whose life was a wreck with its four great failures. Every life is a failure in God's sight, but we must never despair of any one, for "with God all things are possible," and as long as life lasts there is hope for the sinner. "The Lord opened her heart," she heard and believed, and went home to tell others what a dear Saviour she had found. It was the beginning of a revival at Sychar, and every revival begins in the same way, God is revealed by His Spirit and men realise the nearness of God. Until a man really finds out what God is, there can be no true spiritual worship. This is the truth Jesus came to make known to us when He says, "God is a Spirit, and they that worship Him must worship Him in spirit and in truth," for the Father seeketh such to worship Him. Yes, the Father is seeking us, yearning for us to come close to Him and to respond to His love for us. When our Lord tells us that we must worship in spirit, He means that it is the spirit in man which responds to the Spirit of God. Do you offer Him your heart's devotion and praise, or is it only lip-worship? True spiritual worship does not depend on forms or ceremonies or on any special place or time. I felt the point of this when a railwayman said to me, "We can be in touch with God all the day long." God is a Spirit, just as "God is Light." [Footnote: 1 John i. 5.] And there are no limitations as to where He works or His ways and time of working. The Holy Spirit reveals to us far more about God than we ever imagined. The Bible says, "Eye hath not seen nor ear heard, neither have entered into the heart of man, the things which God hath prepared for them that love Him. But God hath revealed them unto us by His Spirit." [Footnote: 1 Cor. ii. 9, 10.] Until the Holy Spirit opens our blind eyes to see spiritual things we cannot understand them. It is not the words of man's wisdom which can explain them, we need to use spiritual words for spiritual truths, so we can only speak as the Holy Spirit teaches us what to say. "The natural man receiveth not the things of the Spirit of God, for they are foolishness unto him," [Footnote: 1 Cor. ii. 14.] he does not grasp the meaning of them. It is because God is a Spirit that he meets our spiritual need when we feel altogether helpless and hopeless in ourselves, for He says, "I will put My Spirit within you." [Footnote: Ezek. xxxvi. 27.] God begins in the very centre of our being, in our innermost hearts. God makes Himself known to us as God, through our spiritual necessities. The Presence of the Holy Spirit is a personal thing in each one who receives Him. There is only one way by which we can receive the Holy Spirit, and that is by faith. The Holy Ghost has been given. Will you ask yourself, Have I received Him? If not, why not? When God puts His Spirit into our hearts He abides with us for ever. He never leaves us. Even when we grieve Him by our coldness of heart, He does not leave us. It is God who begins the work of grace in our hearts. The Book which reveals to us what God is, opens with the words, "In the Beginning, _God_." [Footnote: Gen. i. 1.] God is the Beginner of all things, not only of the creation of the world, but of the new creation in our souls. This Book unfolds to us how God begins and finishes the great work of redemption and salvation. We find another marvellous beginning which is also unfolded in this Book. "The Spirit of God moved upon the face of the waters." [Footnote: 1 Gen. i. 2.] It is a remarkable word; it means the Spirit of God brooded on the face of the waters. In Genesis we read, "The Spirit of God was brooding," and in the Gospels we find the Spirit of God compared to a dove. The word "brooding" is a figure of the mother dove brooding over her nest and cherishing her young. The first time the Holy Spirit is mentioned in the Old Testament is in this verse, and the first emblem of the Holy Spirit in the New Testament is in the 3rd chapter of St. Matthew's Gospel, where it says that, after our Lord had been baptized, "The heavens were opened unto Him, and He saw the Spirit of God descending like a dove and lighting upon Him." [Footnote: St. Matt. iii. 16.] First let us look at the background of the picture. We see darkness and desolation, death and ruin. Then we see the Spirit of God, the Dove of peace, brooding over it all, and bringing light and life, love and peace out of the confusion. So the two thoughts which are here brought to our minds are Motherhood and Peace. If you look carefully into the Word of God you will see how the thought of Motherhood is brought before us in many ways in connection with the Person and Work of the Holy Spirit. When Christ is speaking of the New Birth, He says we are "born of the Spirit." [Footnote: St. John iii. 6.] Again, when the cry of the new-born soul is spoken of, we are told how it comes; for Paul says, "God hath sent forth the Spirit of His Son into your hearts, crying, Abba, Father." [Footnote: Gal. iv. 6] Again there is the beautiful expression, "The Spirit of Adoption." "We have received the Spirit of adoption whereby we cry Abba, Father." [Footnote: Rom. viii. 15.] "Abba" means "dear Father." When God would reveal His heart of love to us He says, "As one whom his mother comforteth, so will I comfort you." [Footnote: Isa. lxvi. 13.] Think of a mother busy with her work, and her little one playing on the floor. Presently there is a cry, it has fallen down, and in a moment the mother is by its side to soothe it. But there is something sweeter still. Even if nothing befall the child the mother is near by to help it over every difficulty and to respond to every look and sign. Even so our God who is to us our Mother Comforter, says, "Before they call I will answer, and while they are yet speaking I will hear." [Footnote: Isa. lxv. 24] The little child always turns to its mother for comfort in every trouble. There is one thing which we notice in every home, that is, the mother's tender love and constant care for her little one. Night and day her child is her one thought. So the Lord says of His people, "I the Lord do keep it, lest any hurt it, I will keep it night and day." [Footnote: Isa. xxvii. 3.] Every child of God can say-- "Moment by moment I'm kept in His love." Does the child need the mother's constant, watchful care? Yes, because everything around is like a new world to the little one, it is all a new experience. The mother gives herself up so entirely to the child that it depends on her for everything. In the same way when the soul is born again it is brought into a new relation to God, it has entered into a new experience and the Holy Spirit becomes to it just what the mother is to the child and much more. Just as the mother trains the little one to take the first steps in walking and holds it up, so it is the Holy Spirit who teaches us how to walk and to please God. The little hand is slipped into mother's hand to be led and held up. "As many as are led by the Spirit of God they are the sons of God." [Footnote: Rom. viii. 14.] The mother keeps the child close to her, so the Holy Spirit is the Comforter to us, by our side, for the word "Comforter" means, The one whom we call to our side to help us. Just as the mother tells her child what to say when it wants anything, so He helps us when we pray, "for we know not what we should pray for as we ought." [Footnote: Rom. viii. 26.] "The Comforter is come." When did He come? On the day of Pentecost, for it was _then_ that the Holy Spirit was poured out, and He has been with us ever since. Let those words ring in your heart and in your life, "The Comforter is come." [Footnote: St. John xv. 26.] There is a beautiful hymn which illustrates the presence and work of the Holy Spirit in our hearts. It begins with the words-- "Spirit Divine! attend our prayers, And make our hearts Thy home." Then four things are mentioned which show forth God's power in Nature. Light, fire, dew, wind. In the Bible they are all used as symbols of the Presence and Power of the Holy Spirit working in the hearts of men. In Nature we know that human power is small compared with the power of light, fire, wind, and water. Have we learnt to depend only on the Power of the Holy Ghost? God's Voice is ever saying to us now, oh! that we may listen, "Not by might, nor by power, but by My Spirit, saith the Lord." [Footnote: Zech. iv. 6.] Just as all the marvels of the natural world are perfectly carried out by God's wisdom and power, so He has given the Holy Spirit to make Him perfectly known as a living Presence, a living Power and Reality in our hearts and lives. In the second verse of the hymn we find the words-- "Come as the Light--to us reveal Our emptiness and woe." We know what the light does when it shines into a room, It reveals or shows up any dust we had not noticed before. So when the light of God shines into our hearts it reveals what we never saw before. Have you ever watched the battleships on a dark night, anchored a little way off from the coast? Suddenly the bright dazzling searchlights are sent out from the ship. They seem to sweep over the ocean with their sparkling light and then to wrap you round, as you stand there on the shore. The sight fills you with wonder; you feel as if the eyes of all on board ship can see you. It is the same when the Holy Spirit shines into our hearts; it is almost overwhelming; we can only cry, "Woe is me, for I am undone." [Footnote: Isa. vi. 5.] We stand condemned under the searching eye of God. All our self-righteous excuses are swept away. We can no longer take refuge in the fact that we are as good as others and a great deal better than some of our neighbours. The dazzling light of God's Presence has searched us through and through and turned us inside out. Is this searching necessary for every one? Yes, for it is the only way we can learn to know the evil of our hearts. Sometimes the light of the Holy Spirit comes to us in a quiet moment and shows us what we never saw before. Sometimes it comes like a flash. It flashed out on the road when Saul of Tarsus was on his way to Damascus. He described it when he was being tried before King Agrippa, "At midday, O King, I saw in the way a light from heaven, above the brightness of the sun, shining round about me. And I fell to the ground and I heard a voice saying unto me, Saul, Saul, why persecutest thou me? And he tells us also that he could not see for the glory of that light." [Footnote: Acts xxvi. 13, xxii 17.] Whenever the light comes it is a revelation, a moment never to be forgotten: Darkness conceals, light reveals. The Spirit of God brooded over the face of the waters, and God said, "Let there be light and there was light." [Footnote: Gen. i. 3.] The Holy Spirit not only shows us what we are, but He shows Christ to us; then we see the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ. "For God, who commanded the light to shine out of darkness, hath shined in our hearts to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ." [Footnote: 2 Cor. iv. 6.] Yes, God's glory is radiant on the face of Christ and the Holy Spirit reveals it. He delights to show us His beauty and His loveliness and thus to glorify Him. He makes Him a reality in our souls--"a living bright Reality." If you have not seen Him as "altogether lovely" it is not because the Holy Spirit is not willing to show Him to you, but because you turn away and will not look. How good it is of God to send the Holy Spirit into this world on purpose to reveal these things to us. We should never see them but for Him. "The natural man receiveth not the things of the Spirit of God, neither can he know them because they are spiritually discerned." [Footnote: I Cor. ii. 14.] What is the natural man? It is what we are by nature before the Spirit of God gives us a new life. When it says "He receiveth not the things of the Spirit of God," it means that he has no power to receive them. He is groping in the dark, loving the darkness rather than the light. A poor woman who had led a careless worldly life, sent me this message when she was dying, "Tell her the little prayer she taught me has been answered. She will understand. Tell her God has shown me myself and He has shown me Himself, so I am going to be with Him." The little prayer which she had learnt from my lips was this--"Lord, show me myself; Lord, show me Thyself." How I thanked God that He used it for the saving of her soul. When the Holy Spirit convinces us of sin and of our need of a Saviour, He does not leave us there. He draws aside the veil and reveals to us the secret love of God. When our eyes have been opened to know that God is _Light_, then we find out that God is _Love_. How did this love of God show itself? God sent His Son, "In this was manifested the love of God towards us because that God sent His only begotten Son into the world that we might live through Him." [Footnote: 1 John iv. 9.] It is not only the Love of God made known and shining out in the Gift of His Son, but we are told that "God commendeth His love towards us." [Footnote: Rom. v. 8.] How does God commend His love? He sets together His love for His Son and His love for the sinner, and His love for the sinner is so great that He gave His Son to die for us. Thus the words "God commendeth His love" make it quite clear that "God loves the sinner with a love which gives its best, gives everything, keeping nothing back, and gives to everybody." "Oh, the love that gave Jesus to die, The love that gave Jesus to die, Praise God it is mine this love so Divine-- The love that gave Jesus to die." "God commendeth His love towards us in that, when we were yet sinners," it makes no difference _who_ we are or _what_ we have been, the Holy Spirit fixes our thoughts on that little word "yet." The text says, "When we were yet sinners, still far off, still lost and undone, Christ died for us"; so the Blood of Jesus Christ, God's Son, "cleanseth us from all sin." [Footnote: I John i. 7.] When we feel that sin is really a burden then the Holy Spirit points us to the little word "all." Then He applies the precious Blood to our guilty consciences, assuring us by the Word that the Blood of Jesus Christ does cleanse from all sin so that not a single stain is left. It is a perfect cleanser, there is nothing it cannot do. Then the Holy Spirit shows us that God has provided a perfect covering for us in the Robe of Christ's Righteousness. It is thus that the Comforter, who is the Spirit of Truth, leading into all truth, shows us the meaning of Christ's redeeming work and enables us to understand it and to appropriate it. When we do this it is indeed a blessed experience. A young man whom I know described it as follows: "I heard the voice of God saying to me, 'Who told thee that thou wast naked?' [Footnote: Gen. iii. 11.] I am sure that it was the work of the Holy Spirit showing me my utter helplessness and leading me to seek the covering of Christ's Righteousness. I feel I am exactly suited to Jesus as He is exactly suited to me, for I am just the one who needs His fulness, and He is the only one that can supply my emptiness." I praised God for this clear testimony, and I have seen again and again ever since I began to work for the Lord many years ago, that the Holy Spirit delights to reveal the Lord Jesus Christ as "a full Saviour for empty sinners." The Gospel of St. John tells us very plainly that the Holy Ghost was sent, not only to make us see the meaning of Christ's finished work, but also to prepare our hearts to receive it in all its fulness. How does the Holy Spirit prepare our hearts? First, He opens our hearts, awakens in us a sense of our need and sinfulness, then, when He has opened our hearts, He breathes into them a new life; He creates a longing for God. We feel within us a burning desire to know God. We catch eagerly at everything we hear about God, This is quite a new experience; we used to go on year after year not troubling about it in the very least. What is this new experience, this seeking after God? It is what the Bible calls "Repentance." The word means "Change of mind." Again and again the Apostle Paul urged upon both Jews and Greeks the necessity of "repentance towards God and faith towards our Lord Jesus Christ." [Footnote: Acts xx. 21.] A few days ago I received a touching letter from a young friend telling me how God's Spirit had led her to repentance. She wrote, "When I was a little girl and began to seek the Lord, I was very much troubled because I could not feel sorry enough for my sins. I wanted a real repentance to come to the Lord with. I thought repentance meant crying over one's sins a great deal, and I could not feel sorry enough to cry as I wanted to. I used to keep praying, 'Give me a real repentance.' Many times I dreamed I had this deep repentance and could cry over my sins, and I have awakened with my face really bathed in tears, but oh, how disappointing it was to find it only a dream and I had not got what I wanted after all. I went on like this until I was twenty, when the Lord spoke these words with great power to my soul, 'The goodness of God leadeth thee to repentance.' The voice seemed audible and I turned to see if anybody had spoken to me. I was able to weep enough then, but they were tears of joy and gratitude, and I well remember saying aloud, 'O Lord, why me, why one so sinful as I am?' I now see that repentance means 'a change of mind' and not a flood of tears. Had I known this when a child it would have saved me years of toiling and praying for repentance." Dear friends, perhaps some of you are trying to get right with God. Look at the text which gave such peace to this seeking one. It begins with this question, "Despisest thou the riches of His goodness and forbearance and longsuffering, not knowing that the goodness of God leadeth thee to repentance?" [Footnote: Rom. ii. 4.] We little know that all the time we are working and toiling we are really despising, turning away from the riches of His goodness. The word "riches" shows how abundant His goodness is; therefore we are "without excuse." God's forbearance in delaying punishment, and His longsuffering in patiently waiting, show that His purpose in thus dealing with us is to lead us to repentance, which is not merely grief for sin, but a thorough inward change. So we now know what we did not know before, that it is "the goodness of God that leads us to repentance." Yes, we find now that instead of working our way, back to God, He is there close to us, with open arms to receive us, stretching out His loving Hand to save us. We find that instead of trying to gain God's favour by our prayers and good works, God's Righteousness is there for us all ready and provided for us. We find that we are accepted in His dear Son not for any good thing we have done, but simply by faith in Jesus. All this is shown to us by the Holy Spirit, and without Him we could not have seen it. We were speaking just now about repentance. Have you ever noticed that when our Lord began preaching the Gospel, the first word He said was "Repent." [Footnote: St. Matt. iv. 17.] Why did He call to the crowds so earnestly to repent? Again and again that word keeps ringing out. He wanted to make them see that He condemned the way they were living and their religious professions. It was a call to stop and think, as if He said to them, "You have lost your way, you are on the wrong road, stop and turn round." First He points to the right road. He proclaims that the Kingdom of God is come. Then He says to them, But before you can enter in you must repent. The people recognised the meaning of the call; they knew that if they obeyed the whole course of their lives would have to be changed, because having lost the true centre of life, they were simply _drifting_. The man who is living without God is like a ship drifting on the wide ocean without a pilot or chart or compass. For three years He pleaded with them tenderly and lovingly, and at last they gave their final answer to His message. They said, "We will not submit to the Divine government, we will not have this Man to reign over us," [Footnote: St. Luke xix. 14.] _and so they crucified Him_. When we have been led by the Holy Spirit to repentance we see sin, and we see ourselves in a new light. As soon as we really know God we cannot help being sorry for our sin. We begin to long for a Saviour, a Mediator, and it is then that the Holy Spirit points us to Jesus. Repentance, or change of mind, is the first step, and then follows conversion--a change of heart and life. The word conversion means "turning round." Jesus says, "Except ye be converted and become as little children, ye shall not enter into the Kingdom of Heaven." [Footnote: St. Matt. xviii. 3.] Think of God's two great gifts; first, the Gift of His only begotten Son, then the Gift of the Holy Spirit. Have you received them? Perhaps you ask, "How can I know?" If you have received the Holy Spirit there will be joy and peace in your heart, and the fruits of the Spirit will be seen in your daily life. "Now the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, that ye may abound in hope through the power of the Holy Ghost." [Footnote: Rom. xv. 13.] "And the disciples were filled with joy and with the Holy Ghost." [Footnote: Acts xiii. 52.] They were filled again and again, more and more filled with joy and with the Holy Spirit. You, too, may have a Spirit-filled life. God says to you now, and He is saying it every day and every hour, "_Be filled with the Spirit._" [Footnote: Eph. v. 18.] Remember there are different degrees in the Christian life. First, there is Everlasting Life for all who seek it. Only ask Me, Jesus said to the woman of Samaria, and I will give you _living_ water. Then he leads her on a step further. "It shall be in you a well of water." It will be an abundant life, a joyous, satisfying life. Afterwards He tells us that it will be a life "overflowing for others." [Footnote: St. John vii. 38, 39.] This is to be the experience of all believers now through the Holy Spirit. Lastly, the crowning of it all is still to come and we shall drink of "the pure river of the Water of Life." [Footnote: Rev. xxi. 1.] That will be the fulness of life through all Eternity. ADDRESS V THE VOICE OF GOD PORTION OF SCRIPTURE--Genesis xxviii. 10-22. Jacob is leaving home for the first time, to take a long journey of 450 miles. He is quite alone and he feels very lonely when he lies down the first night in a barren place, with a stone for his pillow. Jacob was like some of us, he had heard about God ever since he was a child, but God was not real to him because he had never had any personal dealings with Him. That night he had a wonderful dream, and it made a great difference to his whole life. The ladder which he saw in his dream was to show him that there was a gulf between him and God: and the gulf was caused by his sins. It also showed the necessity for some means of communication to be provided for him. Right down to his deep need the ladder came, right up to God Himself the ladder reached. It was set up on earth and it reached to heaven to make him understand that the gulf had been bridged over, so that now, constant, free communication was possible between his soul and God. The ladder which Jacob saw in his dream is mentioned again in St. John's Gospel. Jesus said to Nathaniel, "Because I said unto thee I saw thee under the fig tree, believest thou? Thou shalt see greater things than these. And He saith unto him, Verily, verily, I say unto you, Hereafter ye shall see heaven open and the angels of God ascending and descending upon the Son of man." [Footnote: St. John i. 50, 51.] The Lord Jesus had been revealing Himself to Nathaniel and this conversation took place near Bethel, so that the reference to Jacob's ladder was very forcible and the wonderful type was made clear. When Jesus said that heaven would be opened, He meant not only opened just once, but _remaining open_; so that ever since Christ ascended into heaven we have lived and are still living under an "open heaven," which means free intercourse between God and man, because Christ Himself is the Ladder. It also means He is the one and only means of communication between the sinner and God. It is "through Him we have access by one Spirit unto the Father." [Footnote: Eph. ii. 18.] All that we know of God comes to us through Him, and all the grace we receive from God comes through Him. So Jacob's ladder is as real to us now as it was to him then, for it connects the seen with the unseen. It is possible for us now to have Christ's Presence with us always and everywhere, for He says Lo, I am with you alway. [Footnote: Matt. xxviii. 20.] But there was something more wonderful for Jacob to see even than the ladder. "The LORD stood above the ladder." It was the first time in his life he had realised the Presence of God. He had lived over forty years without realising that God was close to him. When he awoke from his dream he said, "Surely the Lord is in this place and I knew it not." He never forgot it, just as we never forget the time and place where we are converted. One hundred years after that night, when he was a very old man, he mentioned it to his son. He said to Joseph, "God Almighty appeared unto me at Luz and blessed me." [Footnote: Gen. xlviii. 3.] But what impressed him deeply was that _there_ in that lonely place, many miles away from any human being, he heard the Voice of God speaking to him. It was then that a new life began in his soul, for God told him that from that moment He would be with him _everywhere_, blessing him and protecting him from all danger, and it was then Jacob began to trust God as his _God_. So we see how God's glory and God's grace were shining down from the top of the ladder into poor Jacob's heart. Jacob was face to face with God for the first time, and he began to tremble with fear. If only you could realise that God is now, at this very moment, straight in front of you, you would fall down on your face before Him, and you would cry to Him as Job did, "I have heard of Thee by the hearing of the ear, but now mine eye seeth Thee; wherefore I abhor myself and repent in dust and ashes." [Footnote: Job xlii. 5, 6.] It is at this moment that we realise for the first time our need of a substitute, just as Job did, for he said, "He is not a man as I am that I should answer Him, neither is there any daysman betwixt us that can lay His hand upon us both." [Footnote: Job ix. 33.] How Job would have rejoiced in the glorious revelation which Christ has brought to us. "There is one God, and one Mediator between God and men, the Man Christ Jesus, Who gave Himself a ransom for all." [Footnote: 1 Tim. ii. 5, 6.] He is not only the Mediator laying His hand upon us both, but He _gave Himself_, that is, He gave His life as a _ransom_. The ransom price was His own precious blood, for the life is in the blood. It is the Blood of God's own dear Son which makes an atonement for the soul. The sentence passed on you and me and on every sinner is the sentence of death, for death is the penalty for sin. We are all under the sentence of death, but the glorious message is sent God has found a Substitute. "He bore on the tree the sentence for me, And now both the Surety and sinner are free." You and I now have what Job longed for so earnestly. The Daysman is the Son of God Himself, "Whom God hath set forth to be a propitiation," that is an atoning sacrifice, "through faith in His Blood." [Footnote: Rom. iii. 25.] At first Jacob trembled with fear, but after he had heard the loving words which God spoke to him from the top of that wonderful ladder, then he began to realise that he was no longer alone in that lonely place. He said, "This is the house of God, this is the gate of heaven." Earth had faded from his sight and he was surrounded by heavenly realities. And so it is now, the veil is very thin which separates earth from heaven, the temporal from the Eternal. It was _God's Voice_ which woke him up spiritually. God revealed Himself as the personal God to Jacob. We can recognise a friend by his voice even if we do not see him. So it is the Voice more than anything else which makes the presence of any one real to us. We have an illustration of this in the pictures of the gramophone in which we see a dog listening for the master's voice. The sheep knows the shepherd's voice; the child is quick in recognizing its mother's voice; why do we turn a deaf ear to God's Voice? How tenderly He pleads with us, saying, "But My people would not hearken to My Voice." [Footnote: Ps. lxxxxi. 11.] God wants to be very real and very personal to each one of us, so He says, "Unto you, O men, I call, and My Voice is to the sons of man." [Footnote: Prov. viii. 4.] God has been calling us from the very beginning. Far back in the 3rd chapter of Genesis, when Adam was hiding among the trees of the garden, it was God's Voice which called him out with the searching question, Where art thou? It was as if He said, "Adam, I want you." He is the seeking God still. It was God's Voice that reminded Adam of the holy, happy friendship now broken by sin. Before sin came into the world Adam never listened to any other voice, and now when God is yearning to bring us to Himself, He says, "Listen." That word Listen, or Hearken, comes again and again in the Bible. We find it very often in Isaiah and Jeremiah. When God is pleading with the sinner, that is the word He uses more than any other. In Psalm lxxxi., where God tells us how grieved He is by our waywardness, He says, "Oh that My people had listened or hearkened unto Me." And in Deuteronomy xxviii. 45, He tells them that their troubles have been sent because they would not hearken to the Voice of the Lord their God. I think God has chosen this special way of calling us by His Voice, because it is what we can all understand--it is so simple and so homely. When a boy is disobedient the father calls him, then he talks to him and pleads with him. The father's voice touches the boy's heart. How wonderful it is that God's Voice can reach us, however far off we may be. You have sometimes been to an Open-Air Service, and you have heard the speaker's voice a good way off, but now it has been discovered that any one's voice can travel through the air and be heard above 300 miles away by means of a new apparatus called the wireless telephone. Some time ago a gentleman living in England put a special receiver to his ear and he actually heard a man speaking in France, more than 300 miles away. A year or two ago when the _Titanic_ went down among the icebergs, you remember how the wireless telegraph sent messages to other ships calling for help. This was done by special letters, flashed across the ocean, such as C.Q.D. (come quick, danger) or when the ship was sinking S.O.S. (save our souls). But wonderful as this is, how much more wonderful it is to discover a way by which any one's voice can be heard miles and miles away. Very likely as time goes on and the wireless telephone is more used, you will be able to speak to your father or son far away in Australia or Canada, so that they will not only hear your voice distinctly, but they will answer back, and you will hear their voices just as if you were sitting together again at home. What a wonderful thing it will be to have this close link with them! It is the same as the link which Jacob felt when he heard God's voice speaking; it seemed to bring God quite close to him and to make God so real, that he started again on his journey cheered and encouraged; for we read in the first verse of the next chapter, "Then Jacob went on his journey," and in the margin it says he lifted up his feet, showing his heart was lightened of its burden: when the heart is heavy, our feet drag. But he made a fresh start: and if only God's Voice reaches your heart now, you will go on your way rejoicing; it will be like making a fresh start. Again and again we read of God talking to those who were willing to hear His Voice. For example, "The LORD talked with Moses face to face as a man speaketh unto his friend," [Footnote: Exod. xxxiii. 9, 11.] and at Mount Sinai "Moses spake and God answered him by a Voice." Not only is the link of communication perfect between God and man, but the way in which we can use it and be put in touch with God is so simple: it is by faith--that is all. We have another illustration of this when we think of the wireless messages. The world's greatest wireless station is in a little village called Nassau, in Germany. A short time ago a message was sent to a place far, far away over the ocean, 6,500 miles away. How was it started? Only by touching a key in the machine. That touch releases the lightning which carries a message for thousands of miles over vast continents and across the boundless sea. Only a touch--is it not like the touch of faith? But we must not forget that when the message has reached its destination, when these waves of sound talk across the world, the ear at the other end must be prepared to hear the call. There is the hearing of faith, as well as the touch of faith. The hearing means not only listening, but being willing to obey the voice. I have been told that when a message is to be sent by wireless telephone, the other waves of sound must be quite still before the person receiving the message can hear it. The speaker has to wait till the vibrations settle down, there must be perfect stillness, and then the voice is heard. How important it is to shut out all other sounds so that our hearts may be still enough to hear God speak. We must listen with an obedient heart. Do you remember how one Sunday was set apart not long ago to make collections for the blind. At midnight on Saturday, a royal message was sent forth which encircled the whole world. It was King George's "God speed" to the appeal for the blind. It was flashed from the wireless station on a lonely cliff in Cornwall to another station in America, and it went over the seven oceans of the world. It was received by forty-five ships in the Atlantic. They were all warned it was coming and they were expecting it. The White Star liner _Baltic_, 810 miles away, heard it, and it travelled on to India, and it was caught up there 1,500 miles away. This reminds me of another royal message from the King of kings which is also encircling the world and telling the good news wherever man is willing to hear it. "He that hath an ear let him hear what the Spirit saith unto the Churches." [Footnote: Rev. ii. 7.] How the solemn call rings out, and rings on: To-day, To-day! How it sounds in our ears with startling urgency, and it is the Holy Ghost who says it, "To-day, if you will hear His Voice, harden not your heart." [Footnote: Heb. iii. 7.] When we are careless and indifferent to what God's Voice is saying to us then we are hardening our hearts. Perhaps in days gone by you once listened to God's Voice. Why did you give up listening? "Ah!" you reply, "other voices came and drowned that still small Voice, and the voice of the Evil One poisoned my mind." Let me ask you one more question, Has God's Voice ever stopped calling? No, God is still calling. Oh, that now at this very moment you may be able to say, "The Voice of God has reached my heart." If any of you turn a deaf ear to God's Voice, remember the time is coming when "all who are in the graves shall hear His Voice and shall come forth"; [Footnote: St. John. v. 25.] and to you it will be a coming forth to judgment and condemnation. How does God speak to us now? We can hear the Voice of God speaking in His Word. When any portion of Scripture is specially impressed on our minds it shows that God is speaking to us. A young man who had been seeking God very earnestly said one day, "While reading the Word, I felt certain that God had really spoken to my soul, that He had actually said to me, Live!" Yes, that young man was right, for that is just what God has said to us, but it makes all the difference whether we each one receive it as if God is really saying it to us personally. Luther felt this, for he used to say, "When I open the Bible it talks to me." Why is the Bible like no other book? Because it is the revelation of God Himself. The glory of God shines in its pages. In life and in death the only source of comfort is a Personal God. Our great need is to have God personally near, _near and dear_. Never rest till you can look up into His Face with confidence and say, "Thou art near, O Lord." [Footnote: Ps. cxix. 151.] He is saying to you now, "Seek ye my Face." [Footnote: Ps. xxvii. 8.] What answer will you give? Will you say to God now, "Thy Face, Lord, will I seek." When we seek His Face, then we see "the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ." [Footnote: 2 Cor. iv. 6.] How grand it all is, and yet how simple! Let me say one word of loving appeal to any who have never really sought the Lord. How is it that you say your prayers and yet you do not expect to get an answer direct from God? Because, like Jacob, you have never believed there is a God. You have not got hold of the first truth which the Bible teaches us, _God is_; "He that cometh to God must believe that HE IS." [Footnote: Heb. xi. 6.] When you pray, He must be as real to you as if you saw Him standing by hearing and answering you. Until our eyes are opened to see that death and judgment, heaven and hell, are great realities we do not really cry to God, and when we do we find out that we have never realised there is a God. Think of what God offers to you. Forgiveness, life and glory. Would you neglect getting these priceless gifts if you believed they were the real offers of a real Person? "What meanest thou, O sleeper? Arise, call upon thy God." [Footnote: Jonah i. 6.] ADDRESS VI THE HANDS OF GOD PORTION OF SCRIPTURE--St. John xx. 19-31. Why has this Gospel been written? The last verse of this chapter tells us. "It has been written that we may believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and that believing we may have life through His Name." In the Old Testament when "The Name" is mentioned it meant the unveiling of the grace and glory and power of God. So we read men called upon "The Name"--and in the New Testament when the Divine glory of Christ is described we find the same expression, "His Name." It means His nature and His character. In the verse which we have just read, the wonderful truth shines out that it is through His Name, through all that He is, and all He has done, that we have _life_. So Christ Himself declares, "My sheep hear My Voice and I know them and they follow Me, and I give unto them Eternal life, and they shall never perish, neither shall any man pluck them out of My Hand. My Father, which gave them Me, is greater than all, and no man is able to pluck them out of My Father's hand. I and My Father are one." [Footnote: St. John x. 27-30.] Christ first speaks of His own hand and then of His Father's hand, so there are two hands which hold us fast and keep us safe, now and for ever. Let us look at what is said about the Hands of God in the Bible. Think of God's Hands in creation. The Psalmist says, "Of old hast Thou laid the foundation of the earth: and the heavens are the work of Thy hands." [Footnote: Psa. cii. 25.] "The sea is His and He made it: and His hands formed the dry land." [Footnote: Ps. xcv. 5.] Think of His strong Hands in Providence, as Moses said, "Thy right hand, O LORD, is become glorious in power." [Footnote: Exod. xv. 6.] Nehemiah speaks again and again of "the good hand of my God upon me," [Footnote: Neh. ii. 8.] when he tells us of all God's loving help and guidance in the difficult work he had undertaken. Think again of God's loving Hands in grace, healing the broken in heart and binding up their wounds. How safe David felt when he said, "Thy right hand upholdeth me." [Footnote: Ps. lxiii. 8.] He shows his confidence in God when he prays, "Hold Thou me up and I shall be safe." [Footnote: Ps. cxix. 117.] When your child wants you to hold him up he slips his little hand in yours, doesn't he? Have you ever put your weak hand into God's strong loving Hand so as to let Him do the holding up? The saints in olden times felt God's Hand in everything, over-ruling, planning, guiding, and Jesus assures us of the perfect safety and everlasting security of the believer, for He says, "No one, either man or devil, can pluck them out of My hand, nor shall any man be able to pluck them out of My Father's hand;" [Footnote: St. John x. 28, 29.] so there are two Divine Hands holding us fast. Think once more of the hands of God: not only strong hands to help and to heal, but _redeeming_ hands, mighty to save; hands that have been in the fire to pluck us out of the burning; hands that have laid hold of the enemy and have overcome him; hands that have unlocked the gates of a new life that we may enter in. Not long ago a little girl was caressing her dear old nurse, and when she caught sight of the deep scars in her hands she asked, "How did you get these scars?" The nurse looked at her very tenderly and then she said, "When you were a baby, a fire broke out one night when you were asleep in your cot. I plunged my hands into the flames and lifted you out." The child's eyes were full of tears as she looked at the dear scarred hands, the hands that had been wounded to save her. Those scarred hands remind me of another story. One day, about thirty years ago, some children were playing on a mountain in France, and their merry peals of laughter attracted the notice of a shepherd lad who was taking care of the sheep a little way off. Suddenly a wolf foaming at the mouth came in sight. He saw it run madly down the mountain towards the children. Without a moment's hesitation he rushed forward, seized the wolf, and grappled with it. After a fierce struggle he managed to bind a leather strap around its mouth, and then he killed it, but not before the wolf, which was raving mad, had bitten him severely in the hand. This occurred just at the time when Pasteur, the famous Paris doctor, had discovered a remedy for hydrophobia. Without delay the shepherd lad who had saved the lives of the children at such a cost was taken to Paris and was cured. Hundreds of patients are sent to the Pasteur Institute at Paris and when they ring the bell, the door is opened by an elderly man with a scar on his hand. He was once the shepherd lad who rescued the children from the raving wolf, and the deep scars are from its bite. Inside the hall there is a statue representing him in the terrible struggle with the wolf. Think of the wounded hands of the Son of God. Do you ask Where? How? Why? Where were they wounded? On Calvary's Cross. How? "They pierced My hands and My feet." [Footnote: Ps. xxii. 16.] This is the wonder of it, "He was wounded for our transgressions." Look at the 53rd chapter of Isaiah, and there you will see Jesus as the Suffering Substitute. Seven times in that chapter it is distinctly mentioned that all His suffering was because He was bearing our sins. Notice in verse 5 it says, "He was wounded for our transgressions, He was bruised for our iniquities." Then in verse 6, "The Lord hath laid on Him the iniquity of us all." In verse 8, "For the transgression of My people was He stricken," or the stroke was upon Him. He stood between the stroke of Divine Justice and the sinner and received the blow Himself. In verse 10, "Thou shalt make His soul an offering for sin;" verse 11, "He shall bear their iniquities;" verse 12, "He bare the sin of many." Jesus was the Suffering Substitute because He was the Sin-bearer. See how in His death He was identified with the sinner. For in verse 12 we read, "He was numbered with the transgressors." In the Gospels we are told that there were two thieves crucified with Him, on either side one and Jesus in the midst. I once saw a coloured illustration of the three crosses on Calvary. One cross was painted black, the other was white, and the middle one was red. Now if we look at those three crosses on Calvary from the Divine standpoint, it seems as if one cross which was black at first is now white. It is the cross of the penitent thief; all his sins have been transferred to the Sin-bearer, so now there is not one sin on him; he has been washed "whiter than snow." The cross of the impenitent thief is black, and remains black, for he dies with all his sins on him and goes into the blackness of darkness for ever. The middle cross is red: Jesus the Holy One has no sin in Him, but the sin of the whole world is _on_ Him, because He is the atoning sacrifice for sin. "O Christ, what burdens bowed Thy head, Our load was laid on Thee. Thou stoodest in the sinner's stead, Didst bear all ill for me. A victim led, Thy blood was shed, Now there's no load for me." In the writings of an American Evangelist we meet with this quaint illustration, "God uses bright red to get pure white out of dead black." It is just the same truth as we have seen shining out from the three crosses. There we see Jesus "in the midst," the God-appointed Sacrifice for sin, and we see the penitent thief washed whiter than snow in the precious Blood. We see Jesus again "in the midst," three days after. It is in the Upper Room at Jerusalem, on Easter Sunday. The disciples who were like scattered sheep have gathered together there once more, though still trembling with fear. "Then came Jesus and stood in the midst and said unto them, Peace be unto you." [Footnote: St. John xx. 19.] It was the first time He had spoken to them since the night when He was betrayed when they had forsaken Him and had run away. He might have met them with a reproof, but He knows all about our poor hearts, so He meets them with a smile and the sweet greeting, "Peace be unto you." And He says it to them _all_, even to Peter who had denied his Lord, and to the others who had forsaken Him. Yes, He has only one greeting for them one and all, and that is "Peace." Then a pause, and after the pause there came a revelation--"He showed them His hands and His side." Why did He show them the nail prints in His hands and the deep wound in His side? It was to reveal to them the wondrous truth that He Himself is our Peace, and that the Peace which He gives is the Peace which He has Himself made through the Blood of His Cross. [Footnote: Col. i. 20.] "Through Christ on the Cross peace was made, My debt by His death was all paid; No otter foundation is laid, For peace the gift of God's love." He showed them His hands and His side, because He wants them to understand that these sacred scars tell us of His wondrous love and of the infinite cost of Redemption. Let us lift up our hearts and say-- "Oh, make me understand it, Help me to take it in, "What it meant to Thee the Holy One To bear away my sin." We find from St. John's Gospel that Thomas, one of the twelve, was not among them when Jesus came, so the rest of the disciples told him, "We have seen the Lord." He replied, "Unless I see in His hands the wound made by the nails, and put my finger into the wound, and put my hand into His side, I will never believe it." So when a week later Jesus says to Thomas, "Reach hither thy finger and behold (or feel) My hands, and reach hither thy hand and thrust it into My side," [Footnote: St. John xx. 27.] it shows how our Lord made these scars the very test of his faith, and it is the same now. In St. Luke's Gospel we read that He said, "Behold My hands and My feet." When He showed them the marks of His sufferings for them, it was as if He said, "Here is the guarantee of your pardon and peace." We cannot have peace until we have pardon; many seek peace instead of taking pardon first. When He showed them His hands, and His feet, and His side, it was as if He said, "You need cleansing from all sin; here are the marks of the cleansing Blood. You need the touch of healing power, and here is the Hand that will give it to you. You want companionship in your daily life. Here are the feet that will travel with you, you never walk alone." What wonderful tenderness and love! If ever you feel depressed or ready to doubt God's love, remember how "He showed them His hands and His side," that they might see those sacred scars. And we read in the next verse, "Then were the disciples glad when they saw the Lord." Yes, "they were filled with joy at seeing the Master." You will remember how troubled Thomas had been before this, but now the sight of the wounded hands took away all his doubts and fears. It was then that his faith rose higher than that of any of the others, for he exclaimed with adoration and worship, "My Lord, and my God!" If ever you wander away or your heart grows cold and careless, think of those words, "He showed them His hands and His side," and remember He is still the same in the glory. When the beloved Apostle John looked through the open door into heaven, he saw Him standing there in the midst of the throne with the nail prints in His hands and feet, "a Lamb as it had been slain." [Footnote: Rev. v. 6.] What a sight! "Dear dying Lamb, Thy precious blood Shall never lose its power, Till all the ransomed Church of God Be saved to sin no more." But _why_ did He show them the wounds in His hands and side? To make it plain that He bore all the penalty of sin. Some speak about sin as if it were only a mistake, but God says sin is guilt, and that all are guilty, for all have sinned. We have offended against God's holy law, and if any one breaks the law he brings upon himself the penalty. God says, "The soul that sinneth, it shall die;" [Footnote: Ezek. xviii. 20.] so the penalty we deserve is death, everlasting punishment. The penalty must be paid by some one. God's justice demands it. God is not willing that any should perish; He loves the sinner, though He hates the sin. Still the penalty must be paid, so He found out a way; His own dear Son must take the sinner's place and suffer the full penalty instead, the death-penalty. Perhaps you wonder, how can the death of One atone for the sin of the many? A lad once asked his father this question. The father made no reply but took him into the garden. Then he dug up a spadeful of earth with a number of worms in it, and turning to the boy he asked him, "Now which is of most value, your life or that of one worm, or even a thousand worms?" "Mine," said the boy. "Now" said the father, "you can see how the life and death of the Divine Saviour is _sufficient satisfaction to God_ for the sins of the whole world." Oh! the wonder of it all. We see God, the Holy God, the just God, the righteous God--we see man, guilty, condemned, sinful. Then we see the Son of God Who knew no sin, _made_ sin for us, [Footnote: 2 Cor. v. 21.] so that all the requirements of God's holiness and justice are fully met. It was on the Cross, in that hour of darkness and agony when He cried, "My God, My God, _why_ hast Thou forsaken Me," that He was _made_ sin for us. Now we see the meaning of the wounded Hands, the broken Heart of God. "If I were God," the cynic said, "this sinning, suffering world would break my heart." But what if God's heart _was_ broken? Do we not read in the 69th Psalm, "Reproach hath broken my heart? [Footnote: Ps. lxix. 20.]" The last night before He died He went to the garden of Gethsemane. Only three of His disciples followed Him into the place where He knelt down to pray, and even these three fell asleep. He was left alone. He says, "I looked for some to take pity, but there was none, and for comforters, but I found none." It was then the agony began which ended on the Cross in a broken heart. It was then He prayed saying, "Father, if Thou be willing, remove this cup from Me, and there appeared an angel unto Him from heaven, strengthening Him." [Footnote: St. Luke xxii. 42, 43.] His prayer was heard and the victory was won over the adversary, for it must be on the Cross and in no other way that the Atonement could be made. "Christ hath redeemed us from the curse of the law, being made a curse for us, for it is written, Cursed is every one that hangeth on a tree." [Footnote: Gal. iii. 13.] "Who His own self bare our sins in His own body on the tree." [Footnote: I Pet. ii. 24.] It was there on the Cross that He said, "It is finished; and He bowed His Head and died." We should not have known that He died of a broken heart if one little circumstance had not taken place. The Holy Spirit has shown us that this circumstance was foretold in the Scriptures and was all part of God's purpose in our redemption. The soldiers had orders to break the legs of those who had been crucified, so as to hasten their death, and remove their bodies without delay; but when they came to Jesus and saw that He was dead already, they brake not His legs; but one of the soldiers pierced His side, and forthwith came there out blood and water. "This was a proof that He had died of a broken heart." [Footnote: John xix. 34.] "He died of a broken heart for you, He died of a broken heart, Oh! wondrous love for you, for me, He died of a broken heart." When we remember that the pouring out of the blood followed on the breaking of the body, then we see the meaning of the precious words spoken by our Lord during the Last Supper. We read that, "He took bread, and when He had given thanks, He brake it and said, 'Take, eat; this is My Body which is broken for you.' [Footnote: I Cor. xi. 24.] And He took the cup and said, 'This is My Blood of the New Testament which is shed for many.'" [Footnote: St. Mark xiv. 24.] Why did He die? Why was His blood poured out? The Apostle Paul answers that question when He says, "God was in Christ reconciling the world unto Himself." In that one sentence we have the Message of the Cross! We see God's purpose behind it all. Two wonderful truths lie hidden in that glorious message. The first is, that "Christ _died_ to put away sin," because sin is the thing and the only thing which comes between us and God. The good news which Christ brings to us is that God Himself has taken the first step in this work of reconciliation. Oh! how wonderful it is that it is our sins which have brought out all the anguish and love of God's heart. Yes, our sins grieved Him so much He could not rest till He had devised a plan by which they could "all be blotted out," once for all. Dear friends, whenever your sins are a burden, say these words over and over in your heart, "God was in Christ reconciling me to Himself." [Footnote: 2 Cor. v. 19.] This alone would have been wonderful, but there is something more in the good news, and that is "God is beseeching you to be reconciled to Him." Have you ever grasped that truth? I remember hearing of a great lawyer who was moved to shed tears, and when a fellow-lawyer asked him why he was in trouble he replied, "I see now what I never saw before. Yes, I see that God is _beseeching_ me to be reconciled to Him. I always thought it was for me to beseech God." Many think as this lawyer did that the sinner must first come to God. No, it is God Who comes to us entreating us to return to Him. He is always sending us messages of love, and the moment we turn to Him and trust Him He gives us a full free pardon. Dear fellow-sinners, "we pray you now in Christ's stead," and because of His great love in dying for you, "Be reconciled to God." God is now willing; are you willing? Do say "Yes." Will you say it now very solemnly in your heart to God? ADDRESS VII THE WORD OF GOD PORTION OF SCRIPTURE--Psalm xix. This Psalm is full of the glory of God. It tells us first of the Glory of God shining in this beautiful world which He has made, and then it shows us the glory of God shining in the Scriptures, in this Book which lies open before us. The first verse bursts forth with the triumphant note, "The heavens declare the glory of God." Everything in earth and sky shows forth His wisdom, His power and His love. Then it gives us a wonderful picture of the sunrise and compares it to "a bridegroom coming out of his chamber." You have seen the first streaks of light in the early morning, and then you have watched the onward course of the sun till it is high up in the sky at mid-day, full of power, "rejoicing as a strong man to run a race." But Nature, with all its secrets, Nature with all its wonders and treasures, is only part of God's revelation of Himself; the other part is to be found in His Word. So the Psalmist passes from the glorious sun in the heavens to the glory shining in the Word of God. The glory we see in God's works is only an illustration of the glory shining in this Book. After giving the wonderful description of the rising sun, he goes on to point out that there is not a single spot in the whole world where the sun does not shine, and that its light and heat can be felt by everything. Then he shows us that it is just the same with the Word of God. It is God's message to every one, but it is only when it finds an entrance into man's heart that it gives light. [Footnote: Ps. cxix. 130.] If you draw down the blind the sun cannot shine into your room; so the Holy Spirit must open our hearts for the light of His Word to enter in, otherwise it will be to us the same as any other book. "Is it dark without you, darker still within? Clear the darkened windows, Open wide the door; Let the blessed sunshine in." How can we know that the Bible is the Word of God? A gentleman, who was an unbeliever, stopped one day to speak to Molly, the old woman who kept a flower stall near the station. He noticed she was reading her Bible, so he asked her why she read it. "Because it is the Word of God." "How do you know?" "Because it cheers and warms my heart. I am just as sure it is God's own Word as I am that it is the sun shining up there." This simple testimony was the means of convincing him and he thanked her for it. We have heard how the sun shines over the whole world, but is it not wonderful that every little drop of water can reflect the whole of its light? In every sunbeam there are seven colours, and when you look up at the rainbow you see all the seven in one drop of rain. This is only an illustration of the wonders of God's grace. If you are a child of God the whole of God's grace enters your heart, so you have grace to speak, grace to pray, grace to be loving and patient, grace for everything. The whole of God's life and light and love are for you as if there were no one else in the world. It is the same with all the precious truths of God's Word: they are _all_ yours. A minister who wanted to know how many promises there are in the Bible searched all through the Book and he counted nearly five thousand. Had you any idea that there are as many as five thousand precious promises for the believer in God's Word? Have you claimed them? A Christian woman who was very ill asked her daughter to read the 8th chapter of the Epistle to the Romans. When she had finished the mother said, "That's mine, it's _all_ mine." How rich she was! Only think of it and it is an _Eternal_ inheritance, for the chapter begins with "no condemnation" and ends with "no separation." If you will look at verses 7 and 8 of our Psalm, you will see four things which the Word of God does. "It converts the soul, makes wise the simple, rejoices the heart, enlightens the eyes." Let us think of these four things. First: "The law of the Lord is perfect, converting the soul." The law here means the whole covenant of Jehovah. You remember how, when God appeared to Abraham, that Abraham fell on his face, feeling his utter weakness and nothingness, and then God talked with him. When a man is laid low in the dust then God can talk to him. And God said to Abraham, "I will make my covenant between Me and thee." [Footnote: Gen. xvii. 2.] A covenant is a promise made under solemn conditions, and it is God's covenant of grace which converts the soul. Such a promise as we have in Ezekiel: "A new heart also will I give you, and a new spirit will I put within you, and I will take away the stony heart out of your flesh, and I will give you an heart of flesh: And I will put my Spirit within you." [Footnote: Ezek. xxxvi. 26.] God says "I will" five times in those few lines, because He wants us to understand that in giving this promise He undertakes to do in us and for us what we can never do for ourselves. This reminds me of a young woman who was troubled because, although she was longing to be saved, yet she felt her heart was so hard. One Sunday the minister took this verse as the text for his sermon. When he gave it out it seemed to her as if a voice was speaking these words close to her, right into her ear, "I will give you an heart of flesh." It came like a message direct from God. She was so deeply touched she could not listen to the sermon, and after it was over she went into the fields to find a quiet place that she might look at the words again in her Bible. She is now a very bright earnest Christian. It is through the Word that God speaks to our hearts, and when the Holy Spirit makes it a living Word and quickens us to receive it with faith, then we are converted. If you are not saved, take your Bible and read it prayerfully, and you will find in it just what you want. Remember the letter of Scripture is of no use unless we experience its power and enjoy its sweetness. A young clergyman was converted through a very strange text. He was so much depressed he thought of committing suicide, and then his eye fell on that verse in Ecclesiastes, "A living dog is better than a dead lion." [Footnote: Eccles. ix. 4.] The words brought fresh hope to him. He said to himself, One thing is certain and that is, I am still a _living_ man, and he was then led to seek Christ as the Way, the Truth and the _Life_. It is wonderful to think of the many different ways in which God sends His Word home to our hearts. Spurgeon gives an instance of this. He was asked to visit a dying man who told him about his conversion. He said, "Some years ago I was at work in the Crystal Palace. God's Spirit was striving with me and I felt the burden of sin. It seemed to follow me wherever I went. Suddenly a voice said to me distinctly, 'Behold he Lamb of God which taketh away the sin of the world.' [Footnote: St. John i. 29.] No one was near me, and I thought the message had come straight from God. I then saw clearly that Christ had died to save me, and ever since I have had joy and peace in believing." Spurgeon listened to the dying man's testimony with deep interest, and he remembered that on that very day he had gone to the Crystal Palace to test his voice in the transept before speaking at a People's service which was to be held there, and had used that very text, "Behold the Lamb of God which taketh away the sin of the world." Let us thank God that His Word is _perfect_ in converting he soul. "The testimony of the Lord is _sure_, making wise the simple." It is well known that very often a man who is no scholar, but who is taught of God, is able to see deep truths which learned men fail to understand. Every time you read your Bible look up and say, "Lord, open Thou mine eyes that I may behold wondrous things out of Thy law." [Footnote: Ps. cxix. 18.] Do not feel discouraged because you do not understand t all. There are many things which earthly fathers tell their children which they do not understand till they are grown up, but still they love to get father's letters, and the Bible is our heavenly Father's letter to us. Do you value it? In the 8th verse of the 19th Psalm it says, "The statutes of the LORD are right, rejoicing the heart." I have seen many careworn faces lit up with joy when reading the Word. One man especially, who had a great deal of trouble and opposition in his home life, used to give his testimony at the Meeting. Opening his Bible in the 5th chapter of the Gospel of St. John he would read the 24th verse, "Verily, verily, I say unto you, He that heareth My word and believeth on Him that sent Me hath everlasting life and shall not come into condemnation, but is passed from death unto life." Then he would tell us with a beaming face that it was his song of assurance, for, as he said, there are three links, "He that _heareth_, _believeth_, _hath_--and 'hath' means 'got it,' and I've got everlasting life. Jesus says it and I know it's true." He is now in the glory, and maybe he is telling the angels about it. If we had no Bible we should have no certainty that our sins are forgiven. A little girl named Molly said to her aunt who was teaching her about Jesus, "How can I be sure that my sins are forgiven?" "Because God says so," [Footnote: i John i. 9.] was the reply, and then she repeated the text, "If we confess our sins, God is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness." Many say, "I believe in the forgiveness of sins," and yet they still carry about the burden of their sins. They see clearly how God can forgive sin, but they cannot realise that it is their own sins which are forgiven. This was the case with Luther. He tells us how, when he was distressed because of his sins, a friend pointed out to him that he would not have real peace unless he claimed God's forgiveness for his _own _sins. It was like a new light flashing into his soul; he saw his mistake and looking up with a beaming face, he said, "I see it now--it is not other people's sins, it is _my_ sins which are all forgiven!" We must not estimate sin and forgiveness by our own standard. When we have given way to sin again and again we feel ashamed to ask God's forgiveness so often but the wonder of it all is that God meets this very feeling of shame with the words, "My thoughts are not your thoughts"; and then He adds, "For I will abundantly pardon," [Footnote: 2 Isa. lv. 7, 8.] which means, I will repeatedly pardon. God's thoughts of sin and His thoughts about forgiveness are far higher than ours. Sometimes I feel quite overwhelmed when I think of how great His forgiving love has been to me. Look again at our Psalm, verse 7, "The testimony of the Lord is _sure_, making wise the simple." The word Testimony means an assurance or a promise from God to the individual soul, and David had such confidence in God he is quite sure He will not disappoint him or fail to keep His word. So he says, "The testimony, or promise, of God is _sure_." It is this certainty which makes David so happy. He seems to be overflowing with joy, for he says, "Thy testimonies also are my delight and my counsellors," [Footnote: Ps. cxix. 24.] and again, "I love Thy testimonies." "Thy testimonies are wonderful, therefore doth my soul keep them. Thy testimonies that Thou hast commanded are righteous and very faithful." [Footnote: Ps. cxix. 119, 129, 138.] The word "Testimony" means also what God has commanded us to believe and also to practise. A native convert in China said the other day, "I began by reading the Bible, but now I am _behaving_ it." This is what David means when he says, "My soul hath kept Thy testimonies, and I love them exceedingly." [Footnote: Ps. cxix. 167.] The question was once asked at a meeting, "Can you point to any text in the Word of God which makes you sure you are saved and safe?" "I can," said one of the company, in a quiet firm voice. "It is John iii. 36, He that believeth on the Son hath everlasting life." We have many bed-rock texts and that is one, as the beautiful old hymn says-- "How firm a foundation, ye saints of the Lord, Is laid for your faith in His excellent Word." I was summoned late one evening to see a dying man who had been brought to Christ through my Bible Class. When I entered his room he looked up and said with a smile, "I sent for you because I want to tell you that I am quite safe, quite sure and quite satisfied. I am quite safe because Jesus died for me. I am quite sure because I have His Word for it. I am quite satisfied because I am going to be with Him in the glory." The Word of God was written that we _might_ believe; to believe is to know, and to be quite certain. The word "believe" comes from an old root meaning "to live by." "Man shall not live by bread alone, but by every word that proceedeth out of the mouth of God." [Footnote: St. Matt. iv. 4.] Put your finger down on one of the many precious assurances which God has given us in His Word, of the certainty of complete forgiveness and acceptance, and then look up into His face with loving gratitude. God's pardon and acceptance are absolute and eternal; nothing can ever alter them. God wants us to know it and to live in the joy of it. Trusting His Word gives us safety, certainty and enjoyment. If any sin comes into your mind and troubles you, dear child of God, do not carry it about with you, tell Father about it at once; confess it to Him and remember that you are under the cleansing Blood. "The Blood of Jesus Christ, God's Son, cleanseth us from all sin." [Footnote: 1 John i. 7.] It has not only cleansed us once for all, but it is cleansing us now at the present moment. It is important to remember that the whole purpose of the Bible is to give glory to God. It is the Everlasting Word of the Everlasting God. "The word of our God shall stand for ever." [Footnote: Isa. xl. 8.] Make the word of God _everything_. Receive its statements by faith as revelations of simple certainties. Find out how happy you are. "Happy is that people that is in such a case, yea, happy is that people whose God is Lord." [Footnote: Ps. cxliv. 15.] If we are walking with God in our daily life we need a light to show us the way. David knew well what it was to go along rough roads on dark nights, so he says, "Thy Word is a lamp unto my feet and a light unto my path." [Footnote: Ps. cxix. 105.] Did you ever hear about Moody's torch? One night Moody had to return home through a dark wood after one of his meetings, and the path was winding and rough, so a friend offered him a torch. Moody declined taking it, saying, "Thank you, but it is too small." "It will light you home," said the man. "But the wind may blow it out." "It will light you home." "But if it should rain?" "It will light you home." At last Moody started, taking the torch with him, and he said afterwards, "In spite of all my fears, it gave abundant light on my path all the way home." Every promise in the Word of God is like Moody's torch, and if we will take it and use it, we shall find as he did, that it will light us all the way to our Eternal Home. The Bible is the Book of light placed by our Master in the hand of faith that we may see clearly how to walk and to please God and how to deal wisely and kindly with those around us. It contains plain directions about everything in our daily life. The Bible is a Revelation of God Himself. It is a direct communication from Him to us. There are four things made known to us in the Word which are of priceless value-- 1. It proclaims a full, free salvation through faith in Christ. "To you is the Message of this Salvation sent." 2. It opens out to you the riches of grace and invites you to take them freely--freely--freely. 3. It opens "the door of faith" wide to the weakest sinner and even to you. 4. It gives a new life within, which transforms the soul and makes us new creatures in Christ Jesus. Our Lord says, "The words that I speak unto you, they are spirit and they are life." [Footnote: St. John vi, 63.] Can you say, "Thy Word hath quickened me"? [Footnote: Ps. cxix. 50.] Do not be satisfied with reading a chapter here and there. Read straight through. Why? Because the Bible has a beginning and an ending like any other book. It begins with the story of a friendship between God and man: we see man very happy in this friendship. Then something happens; you will find it in the third chapter of Genesis. Some one has come in between them and the friendship is broken. Still God is looking for His friend and calling him, "Where are you?" The answer comes from under the shadow of the trees. "I heard Thy voice and I was afraid and hid myself." Now we come to the last words at the end of the Book, and we hear the same Voice saying, "I am coming back again very soon." It is the Voice of the same Friend, no longer sad but glad. "The darkness has all passed away and the true Light is shining," [Footnote: I John ii. 8.] and will shine for ever: yes, it is sunshine all around, everlasting sunshine. Where is the Bible? Do you keep your Bible where you can take it up whenever you have a few spare moments? Is it ready at hand so that you can read it before you go to bed at night? Do the children speak of it as "Mother's book"? Do you turn to it for strength and comfort? Is it a _living_ book to you? One of the most solemn things which God says to His rebellious people in olden times is that "they were casting His Words behind their backs." We are doing the same thing if the Bible is laid aside on the shelf, or put into the front room and allowed to remain unopened week after week. There can be no blessing in your home and in your life while you neglect the Word of God. It is this very word of God which will judge you at the last day. Listen to Christ's solemn warning: "He that rejecteth Me and receiveth not My words hath one that judgeth him," which means you will not be left without a Judge. It is not a matter of small importance whether you read the Bible or not: it is a matter of life or death. A neglected Bible shows you are living without God; a neglected Bible shows you are living for this world only; a neglected Bible shows that your soul is dying of starvation; a neglected Bible means that though you may _think_ you can get on very well without it, Jesus _says_, "The Word that I have spoken the same will judge him in the last day." [Footnote: St. John xii. 48.] The Bible is God's Message to this present generation. Sometimes people want to lay it on one side as an old book which is out of date. It is the most up-to-date book in the world. It not only tells us of what is going on at the present moment, but about what will happen in the future. We see pictures in the daily papers of what people were doing yesterday and what they looked like, but in the Bible we have portraits true to life not only of what we are outwardly, but of the thoughts of our hearts. "The Word of God is quick and powerful and sharper than any two-edged sword: it can discern the secret thoughts and purposes of the heart." [Footnote: Heb. iv. 12.] We hear a great deal about the X-rays which show what is going on inside the body, but this is nothing compared to the Word of God which penetrates deep down into our inmost feelings and brings them to light. It is better to be searched and cleansed now, than to go on in the old way and then to stand before the great White Throne by and by, condemned to everlasting punishment. Let us pray with David, "Search me, O God, and know my heart, try me and know my thoughts and see if there be any wicked way in me, and lead me in the way Everlasting. Amen." [Footnote: Ps. cxxxix, 23, 24.] ADDRESS VIII HAVE FAITH IN GOD PORTION OF SCRIPTURE--Romans iv. There is one man set before us in this chapter as the man who had faith in God. The one thing which marks him more than any other is his faith. The man lived nearly 4,000 years ago, and yet he is still a vivid personality; he lives on in our thoughts and memories as the man who trusted God. His name is still reverenced all over the world, even among people of different religions, as "The Friend of God." "The God of Glory appeared to Abraham," and from that moment Abraham's faith fastens on what God is. The attractive power of Jehovah drew him from his home, his relations and his country, and with every fresh revelation of God, Abraham's faith grasped more of God and clung to Him with a firmer hold. God's word was all he had to go by; whatever God said was enough for him; whatever God told him to do, he did it, because, to _trust God_ means to obey Him. He had God with him at every step. If ever there was a clear-sighted man, that man was Abraham, for trust in God enlightens our understanding. He was a man with a far sight. He saw what no other man then living saw. He saw that the day was coming when God would send His Son to be the Saviour of the world. How do we know this? Because Christ said, "Abraham rejoiced to see My day, and he saw it and was glad." [Footnote: St. John viii. 56.] He saw far on into the future, farther than any other man then living. He saw the golden City, the holy City, "whose builder and maker is God." [Footnote: Heb, xi. 10.] Yes, the eye of faith not only sees God, it sees also what "God has prepared for those who love Him." God was very real to that man. Abraham trusted God because he knew Him personally. Faith is the act of the soul which looks wholly away from _self_, whether it be righteous self or sinful self, and looks to God only, in complete submission and confidence. It was because Abraham trusted Him that God stamped the man as His friend--Abraham My friend. On and on through all these hundreds of years he has been called "the Friend of God." In the book of Chronicles, in Isaiah and in the Epistle of James it is mentioned again, "He was called the Friend of God." What is friendship? It is two hearts trusting in each other. Abraham trusted God, and God trusted Abraham. God put such confidence in him that He let him know that He was going to destroy the cities of the plain. The LORD said, "Shall I hide from Abraham that thing which I do?" [Footnote: Gen. xviii. 17.] Mutual trust is at the root of all friendship. Where there is a lack of mutual confidence in the home life or in commercial life it spells ruin. The great question for each one in life is, What is my relation to God? Is it trusting God, or is it doubting God? "Abraham believed God and it was counted unto him for righteousness." [Footnote: Rom. iv. 3.] What is righteousness? It means to be right with God, and the moment we trust God's Word we are made righteous, and we become righteous. We read in Acts that after their first missionary tour. Paul and Barnabas reported in detail all that God had done, and how He had opened the door of faith unto the Gentiles. [Footnote: Acts xiv. 27.] So faith is the gate of life by which the Gentiles were entering in. Here was a new fact proving that faith was the gate of the Lord into which the righteous should enter; [Footnote: Ps. cxviii. 20.] righteous _because_ believing. Faith is the door by which God comes into our hearts. Faith is only the door, nothing in itself, but it is called "precious faith" because of all the life and joy and riches of grace and glory which it lets in. Abraham is not only presented to us in the Word of God as the Friend of God, but also as a pattern for all believers, and we are told to take him as our model, "to walk in his steps," to trust God and to find in God's wondrous friendship all that he found. God has been teaching us ever since, through the simplicity of the faith of this man. The most remarkable point in his faith is this, he grasped as no one else had done that God is God because He can quicken the dead. [Footnote: Rom. iv. 17.] He can give life to the dead because He Himself is the Source of life. He calls "those things which are not as though they were" because He is the Creator of all things. This applies not only to the body but to the soul. Your confidence in God began when your soul, which was "dead in sin," was quickened into a new life. When we ourselves have experienced this quickening it gives us such faith in praying for those we love, knowing that God alone can quicken dead souls. Abraham was "strong in faith"; even when God promised him a son, although it seemed impossible, "he staggered not at the promise of God through unbelief," being "fully persuaded" that God was able to do it. To be "strong in faith" is to feel our utter helplessness and to rely on God's power only; to be "strong in faith" is to grasp God's promise and not to let anything make us doubt it. We have an illustration of this strong faith in the case of the first missionary who went out to China a hundred years ago. The captain of the ship in which he sailed was an atheist, and one day he said to him with a sneer, "You don't suppose, do you, that you are going to convert those Chinese?" "No," said the missionary, "but I believe _God_ is going to do it." Did God fail him? No. His faith was rewarded, and at the present time there are a quarter of a million Chinese believers who meet in fellowship at the Lord's Table. What is faith? It is the link between me and God. The link between my emptiness and God's fulness. The link between me, the sinner and Jesus, the Saviour. Is there this link between you and God? Is the link on? Faith is the spiritual link, the one and only means by which a man can have dealings with God, realise God and walk with God. It is a living link between God and the soul, a living union. The word "faith" comes from an old word which means to _bind_. When I say "I _believe_ God," it means that "I am His and He is mine for ever and for ever." It is trusting in His love, not a mere cold belief in His power. It is grasping His promises, because they are precious promises. It is the whole heart and mind going out and up to God. David says: "Unto Thee, O Lord, do I lift up my soul; O my God, I trust in Thee," [Footnote: Ps. xxv, 1, 2, 5] This brings perfect rest. "Thou art the God of my salvation, on Thee do I wait all the day." Do we make it a habit to be constantly referring to God about everything? We learn first, that _God_ is, and then our faith feeds upon _what_ God is. His faithfulness and His lovingkindness are seen in all His dealings with us. Faith has to do with unseen realities, for faith is the evidence, or proof of things not seen; [Footnote: Heb. xi. 1.] it makes them as real as if we could see them, and brings them near. So we may say faith is like the telegraph wire which connects two places however far apart they may be. We had an illustration of this not long ago. Our Queen Mary was in her sitting-room in Buckingham Palace. A hospital was to be opened in Canada 4,000 miles off, and she was asked to perform the ceremony. When the signal was given that all was ready, the Queen pressed a little ivory button and in two seconds the door of the hospital, which was held by an electric wire, opened, and in fifteen seconds the signal was flashed back that the hospital was open. So in about half a minute the signal went there and back over a space of 8,000 miles. How wonderful! and yet greater spiritual wonders are happening every day and many times in the day, if only we have faith in God and let Him work in us and through us. I will give you another illustration how the simple touch of faith links us with God's power. A few years ago some rocks blocked the entrance into the river St. Lawrence, so that the ships could not go up the river to Quebec. It was decided that the mass of solid rock must be removed. How was it done? In the presence of a large crowd a little child stepped forward and touched an electric button and the whole mass of rock was blown up by dynamite and the passage cleared. Faith has done great wonders in times past, and it can still do wonders, if only we make use of God's Almighty power. But the rule is, "According to your faith so be it unto you." I will give you an illustration. When I want light in my room I touch the electric button and the room is filled with light. The moment I press the button I expect the light will come, and I am surprised if it fails. Why? Touching the electric button is like the touch of faith; it brings us into contact with the source of light. Faith brings me into contact with God Himself, for He is the source of life and light. God has ordained that faith shall be a power as real and as uniform in its working as light or heat or electricity. Everything about them is a mystery which we do not fully understand, but all the same they are real to us and we use them. Although we do not understand them, yet we prove again and again that they supply us with new life and energy simply by a touch. Even a child can touch. Faith places all God's fulness at our disposal, but it is only according to our faith that we receive it. I know a poor woman who went through a time of great anxiety about her little girl who was ill. One day a Christian friend called to see her and she told her all about her trouble. When she had finished the friend said to her very tenderly, "You have forgotten one little word of five letters." "What is it? Do tell me," she exclaimed, looking puzzled. Then the friend, pointing on her five fingers, said slowly, _f-a-i-t-h_. The dark cloud cleared away and she was able to look up into God's face again and to trust Him. So when Christ says, "Have faith in God," it is a command to hold fast to God. It means trust God about everything, great and small; nothing is too small. Trust Him to save you, and to keep you. Trust Him in every difficulty and in every duty. "Little faith will bring your souls to heaven, but great faith will bring heaven to your souls." When Christ said to Peter and the others, "Have faith in God," He said it very earnestly and with a ring of deep conviction in His voice. He knew in Himself what dependence on God means in the earthly life. Day by day He showed what it is to have simple trust in God. When He said, "Have faith in God," He said it very solemnly, because He was speaking on behalf of His Father. He had come to reveal Him, so He says, "I do nothing of Myself, but as My Father hath taught Me I speak these things." He had already said, "He that believeth on Me hath everlasting life," and now He adds, "Have faith in God." Yes, He claims our confidence, our full confidence, not a half-hearted trust. Our Lord saw men seeking other objects of trust, so He says, "Take hold of God, hold fast to God, have faith in God and never let it go." The world's great need is faith in God. God's own character demands it. The Scriptures make Him known and reveal Him as altogether trustworthy, such an One as invites our entire confidence. To have faith in God means leaning on Him, letting Him bear the whole weight. There is a great difference between believing and committing. Many say they believe, but they are not willing to commit themselves to Him. A few years ago there was a man named Blondin who performed wonderful feats at the Crystal Palace. Once he walked on a tight rope stretched across the centre of the Palace at a height of 150 feet. Another time a rope was stretched at a great height over a shipbuilder's yard, and he not only walked steadily across, but he carried a man on his back. A large crowd gazed at him in wonder and awe, and great was their relief when both Blondin and his burden reached the ground in safety. Among the eager upturned faces in the crowd there was a lad about eleven years of age. When Blondin came down he went up to the lad and said to him, "You saw me carry that big man across, do you believe I could take you?" "Of course you could," replied the boy; "why, he was a big man, and I am only a little chap." "Well, then, jump up, my lad," said Blondin, and he stooped down for the boy to climb up on his back. But although the boy said he believed Blondin was able to carry him across, he was not willing to trust himself, and so, just saying, "No, thank you," he was off like a shot and ran as fast as he could till he was lost in the crowd. Though he said he believed, when it came to the point he did not commit himself, and that is all the difference, between believing _in_ Christ and believing _on_ Him. Faith in God means really committing ourselves into His hands and rolling our burdens on Him. If we withhold our confidence it shows that we do not really believe that God is what the Bible says He is. The reason there is so much unrest and ungodliness is because we have lost sight of God. It is not because the Bible is out of date as some say, or that the Gospel has lost its power; it is still as ever, "the power of God unto salvation," but we are limiting God. It is just the same now as in olden times when the children of Israel limited the Holy One of Israel, and we read how this lack of confidence grieved God all through those forty years in the wilderness. Yea, they spake against God, they said, "Can God furnish a table in the wilderness; can God give bread also; can He provide flesh for His people?" [Footnote: Ps. lxxviii. 19, 20.] Unbelief asks, "_Can He?_" Faith says, "_He can._" Dear friends, let me ask you to stop and ask yourself, Where do you put that little word "can"? Are you constantly thinking to yourself, Can God? or are you saying in your heart and meaning it too, "_God can_"! We limit God's power to save, by asking, _Can_ God? The hindrance is the same as in olden times when Jeremiah felt that because of the unbelief of the people "the Lord was as a mighty man that cannot save." [Footnote: Jer. xiv; 9.] You have prayed many years perhaps for the conversion of some one near and dear to you, but are you limiting God because you doubt His power to do it? A poor man who gave way to drink said sadly, "I have broken the pledge again and again"; then pointing to his pledge card he said, "But now I have written a text on it, Isaiah xli. 13: 'For I the Lord thy God will hold thy right hand, saying unto thee, Fear not, I will help thee.'" Then looking up he said simply, "Maybe, Him and me will do it together." Is it victory over temptation you long for? Look up to Him and say, "I can't, but God can." Is it grace you need for some special trial? Say, "God is able to make all grace abound towards me, for He tells us in His Word that He is able to do 'exceeding abundantly above all we ask or think according to the power that is working in us.'" [Footnote: Eph. iii. 20.] The world's great sin is not trusting God. "Thus said the LORD, Cursed be the man that trusteth in man, and maketh flesh his arm and whose heart departeth from the Lord." [Footnote: Jer. xvii. 5.] Yet in times of difficulty or danger how apt we are to lean on the arm of flesh. During the present European war I was much impressed by the words of one of our soldiers who writes from the front: "After all that is being done there still remains one supreme necessity without which neither arms or munitions can be decisive, namely, the spiritual outlook of the whole nation. When I returned home after ten months in Flanders, I was amazed at the lack of spirituality of the people as a whole. The simple faith and dependence upon God which characterised our country in her past struggles seem lost to sight. 'They trusted in Thee and Thou didst deliver them' implied no disregard for military efficiency; it was the real and vital accompaniment to armed force. Can it be that the hellishness of battle, the wearing down of the spirit induced by trench warfare, moments of utter loneliness which every soldier has to bear, strike right at the soul and enable him to realise the nearness of the spiritual world? 'Prayer is the foundation of all grace' were the words of a dying soldier who had deliberately returned to the area of poisonous gas and had brought back the machine gun on his shoulders. Some of us have realised what individual prayer at home has done for us, but we should all like to feel that the whole nation is also testing the value of spiritual power." We read in God's Word that "The children of Judah prevailed, because they relied upon the Lord God"; [Footnote: 2 Chron. xiii. 18.] and when King Asa was defeated the prophet said to him, "Because thou hast relied on the King of Syria, and not relied on the Lord thy God, therefore is the host of the King of Syria escaped out of thine hand." [Footnote: 2 Chron. xvi. 7.] To have faith in God we must put God first in everything. He must be first when we awake in the morning. How blessed it is to be able to feel, "When I awake I am still with Thee." A working man said to me once, "I make myself happy in God the first thing in the morning." David says, "In the morning will I direct my prayer unto Thee and will look up." [Footnote: Ps. v. 3.] "When I awake I am still with Thee." [Footnote: Ps. cxxxix. 18.] "In my morning prayer," said a Christian man, "instead of thinking of my own needs first, I like to think of the fulness there is in Christ for me." Let us resolve to put "God _first_," even if we have only time for one text of Scripture. "God _first_," even if it is only a minute or two for prayer. A Christian said once, "I must see the face of God before I see the face of man." The manna was gathered early every morning. Another said, "Unless I meet with God first, I cannot meet the difficulties of the day in a prepared spirit." If you put "God first," you will find this will make all the difference as to how you do your work and how you deal with others. "Little is much if God is in it." To have faith in God is to trust Him _only_. David says, "My soul, wait thou only upon God, for my expectation is from Him." [Footnote: Ps. lxii. 5.] Is it so with you? If so, what for, and for how much? First find out from His Word that God is able and willing to do what you need; then trust Him to do it. "Trust in Him at all times" it says again in that beautiful Psalm. [Footnote: Ps. lxii. 8.] "I have been looking into my Bible," said a working man, "and I find a great many men trusted God, and whatever they trusted God for, they always got it; He never failed them, and it is the same now." You have all heard of Florence Nightingale and her life of devotion in nursing the sick. She was asked to tell the secret of her earnest Christian life, and after a pause she said, "I have kept nothing back from God." Faith in God is unreserved confidence, telling Him all and keeping nothing back. But before we can do this as a daily habit we must definitely commit ourselves and all we have into God's hands. It says in Isaiah xliv. 5, "One shall say, I am the Lord's." I have a mark in my Bible which I made many years ago by the side of these words. I put the date and then I wrote these words: "He gave Himself for me and I give myself to Him. He takes me and I take Him." Ever since then it has been my delight to tell others how simple it all is. It is the sinner taking the Saviour and the Saviour taking the sinner. Are you asking, What must I do? First believe what God says about you in His Word. He says, that you are guilty, lost, ruined. Then He presents Christ to us as the Saviour and calls on us to believe what He says about Him. "He that believeth not God hath made him a liar because he hath not believed the record that God gave of His Son. And this is the record that God hath given to us eternal life and this life is in His Son." [Footnote: I John v. 10, 11.] "Have faith in God." Faith cometh by hearing and hearing by the Word of God, and "faith is the gift of God." And the wonder of it all is that God says to the weak ones like poor Jacob, "I have chosen thee and not cast thee away," and He never will, for "_God keeps all His failures_," not like man who throws his failures on one side as worthless. Oh! to trust Him then more fully, Just to simply trust. Then instead of "limiting the Holy One of Israel" we shall be singing at the top of our voices, "The LORD hath done great things for us whereof we are glad." [Footnote: Ps. cxxvi. 3.] So then let us "trust in the Lord for ever, for in the Lord Jehovah is Everlasting Strength." [Footnote: Isa. xxvi. 4.] ADDRESS IX THE CHURCH OF GOD PORTION OF SCRIPTURE--Ephesians v. 22-33. "Christ also loved the Church and gave Himself for it." [Footnote: Eph. v. 25.] Two precious truths shine out in these words. He _loved_, He _gave_. He not only gave Himself for the Church when He died on the Cross, but He is still sanctifying and cleansing it, and by and by when He comes again "He will present it unto Himself a glorious Church." [Footnote: Eph. v. 27.] So we have the history of the Church in the past, in the present, and in the future. We look back to the past and we see Christ giving Himself, that is, laying down His life on the Cross; but we must also look far, far back into the past Eternity to find out another precious truth. (Perhaps you have never thought about it.) It is, that the Church was in God's thoughts from the very beginning! The Son of God was in the bosom of the Father "in the beginning"; and it was then--before the world was created, that God chose us in Him and gave us to Him. [Footnote: Eph. i. 4.] Now we see why "Christ loved the Church and gave Himself for it." What is the Church? The word "Church" means "called out," so the Church embraces all who have been "called out" during the present age to form the "Body of Christ." In the Old Testament we find that the Jews were God's chosen people, [Footnote: Exod. vi. 7.] so they had all the privileges, but in later times, the Jews rejected the Gospel of the grace of God, and then God graciously visited the Gentiles to take out of them a people to be called by His Name. [Footnote: Acts xv. 14.] When did this special "_calling out_" begin? Nearly 1900 years ago on the Day of Pentecost, and it has been going on ever since, and when the number of "the called-out ones" has been completed, then "The Lord Himself shall descend from Heaven with a shout, with the voice of the archangel, and with the trump of God: and the dead in Christ shall rise first. Then we which are alive and remain shall be caught up together with them in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air." [Footnote: I Thess. iv. 16, 17.] Each of those three words, "_chosen_," "_called out_," and "_caught up_," leads us on to something more. We were chosen in Him to be holy; [Footnote: Eph. i. 4.] we are called out to be the Body of Christ now, and by and by we shall be caught up to meet the Bridegroom and to be with Him for ever. If you are a child of God, you can say with holy wonder, "God has done all this for me." The Church was formed out of a little company of 120 men and women who were gathered together praying in the Upper Room at Jerusalem. [Footnote: Acts i. 14, 15.] Suddenly they heard a wonderful sound and saw a heavenly vision, and they were all filled with the Holy Ghost; and before the day was over that little company increased to the number of 3,000 souls. How many does it number now? No one knows, but it is a "multitude which no man can number." [Footnote: Rev. vii. 9.] Some are already in glory, some are still on earth, but it matters not where they are, they belong to the "whole family" of God "in heaven and in earth." [Footnote: Eph. iii. 15.] On the Day of Pentecost, when the Holy Spirit was poured out, His special work was to create a new thing--it was then that the Church of God was formed into one Body by the Holy Spirit, "For, as the body is one and hath many members, and all the members of that one body, being many, are one body, so also is Christ." [Footnote: I Cor. xii. 12, 27.] "Now ye are the Body of Christ and members in particular," that is, individually, for every saved soul is a member. The Church is a living body united to Jesus Christ, for He is the living Head of the Body. He needs His Church just as much as His Church needs Him. It is the Holy Spirit who unites us to the risen and glorified Christ Who is the Head, and then He unites us to one another in Him. It is a _living_ union, because we pass through death into the resurrection life of Christ, for by "One Spirit we are all baptized into One Body, and we have all been made to drink into that One Spirit." [Footnote: I Cor. xii. 13.] The Holy Ghost sustains the life of the Church. In Him we live and move and have our being. As the bird lives in the air, as the flower lives in the sunshine, so we live in the Spirit, and when we drink in His fulness there is growth and fruitfulness. Have we ever felt this need of drinking into that One Spirit? Everything connected with the true Church of Christ must be spiritual, it is this which is being lost sight of in the present day, and it is the reason why there is so little power and so few conversions. Have you ever tried to understand why the Church is called "the Body of Christ"? Think first about your own body. It is the only part of your real self that can be seen. I cannot see your heart or your thoughts, but I know what your thoughts are by your words, and what you feel by the look of joy or sorrow in your face, and by the way you go about. It is by your body that your real personality is made known to others; what you really are would never be seen unless your body made it known. In the same way the Church is the Body in order to make Christ known in the world. He is hidden from our view, He is unseen, but He manifests Himself and shines out through us, and He sends us to carry His messages and to do His Will. This was the earnest desire of the Apostle Paul when he said that he was willing that the old self should be taken away so that "the _life_ also of Jesus might be made manifest in our body." [Footnote: 2 Cor. iv. 10, 11.] This is what the Church is here on earth for, to make the unseen Christ known. Just as every drop of water reflects the light, so every member of the Church, however weak and small, can reflect His love. Is His compassion for sinners beaming in your eye? Is His purity seen in your daily life? Do you judge things from His standpoint? I remember when some one was telling me why she loved a Christian worker whom we both knew, she added, "I love her for what I see of Christ in her." Think of Christ exalted in Heaven far above all things, and remember He is there not for Himself, but for _you_. "He is Head over all things to His Body, the Church." [Footnote: Eph. i. 22, 23.] It is wonderful to think of this union with Christ, that we are His Body and He is the Head; but there is another wonder quite as great, it is that He is the Bridegroom and the Church is the Bride. When we speak of the Church as the Body of Christ, it is a living union, _life_ is the one thought brought out; when we speak of Christ as the Bridegroom it is _love_ which is the chief point. It brings out the affection, tenderness and nearness of the Bridegroom. "So ought men to love their wives as their own bodies, He that loveth His wife loveth Himself." [Footnote: Eph. v. 28-30.] We have nothing so wonderful in the Old Testament. Think of the depths out of which we have come, and the heights to which we are raised. "He raiseth up the poor out of the dust, and lifteth up the beggar from the dunghill to set them among princes and to make them inherit the throne of glory." [Footnote: 1 Sam. ii. 8.] Think of the sinner lifted out of all his bondage and ruin to be the Bride of the Lamb! There is nothing higher that God can give than this. This will be our glorious position by and by when the Bridegroom comes to take us to our Heavenly Home, for His parting words were, "I will come again and receive you unto Myself." [Footnote: St. John xiv. 3.] There will be three great surprises on the day that He comes again. These surprises have been kept secret, but on that day the glorious secrets will all be made known. The first surprise will be when we shall see all the saints who have died in Christ called back from the unseen world and clothed with their new, glorified bodies. What a joyful meeting it will be. The next surprise will be that we who are still living on earth when Christ comes will be changed, we shall not die, we shall escape from the hand of death. "It is appointed unto men once to die," but "Christ was once offered to bear the sin of many," [Footnote: Heb. ix. 27, 28.] and when He comes the saints who are living will be changed "in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye." [Footnote: 1 Cor. xv. 52.] You know how long it takes for you to shut your eye and open it--it will not take longer than that for the change to be made. Three great changes will take place--our _bodies_ will be changed, no more sin, or pain, or weariness; our _minds_ will be changed. "We shall _know_" then what we cannot know now, we shall see all as God sees it, we shall know the love of Christ and we shall love Him as He deserves to be loved, and best of all "we shall be like Him for we shall see Him as He is." The third surprise will be that our _circumstances_ will also be changed; we shall be no longer on the earth, for as soon as the great change takes place we shall be caught up to meet the Lord in the air. He will then look into our life work, and He will say to His faithful ones who have been true-hearted and loyal: "Well done, good and faithful servant." [Footnote: St. Matt. xxv. 21.] Then the heavens will resound with the Hallelujah chorus, "Let us be glad and rejoice and give honour to Him, for the marriage of the Lamb is come and His wife hath made herself ready." [Footnote: Rev. xix. 7.] But the glory will be only then beginning, it will be "_glory upon glory_." Remember there are two stages in Christ's Coming; He will come _for_ His saints, and then He will come down to earth _with_ His saints. As it is written: "Behold, the Lord cometh with ten thousands of His saints." [Footnote: Jude 14.] "When Christ, who is our Life, shall appear, then shall ye also appear with Him in glory." [Footnote: Col. iii. 4.] We shall come _with_ Him when He comes to reign on the earth. But there is something still grander than the glorious position of having a place with Him on His throne. We look on and on into the Eternity that is coming (and it is a wonderful outlook) and what do we find? It is that we are wanted for the ages to come to show forth, and to be living personal illustrations "of the riches of God's grace." It is not only that we shall be saved and glorified, but that God will use us personally to show forth all His love. The grace of God is the love which flowed down to us in our great need, when we were dead in sins, slaves to sin and Satan and deserving nothing but God's wrath. It is we ourselves who are wanted for the ages to come for "the praise of His glory." The expression "_the riches_ of God's grace" [Footnote: Eph. i. 7.] meets our personal need, but there is something else that will shine forth, it is called "_the glory_ of God's grace." [Footnote: Eph. i. 6.] All that God prepares for us is worthy of His greatness and power. The inheritance which He has in store and the beautiful Home above will be worthy of God Himself, all that is in it and around it surpassing everything that we can imagine in its glory and beauty will be worthy of God Himself. It is only as our eyes are spiritually enlightened that we can get a glimpse of "the riches of the glory of His inheritance in the saints." [Footnote: Eph. i. 18.] The words of this old hymn describe what it will be like-- "I go on my way rejoicing, Though weary the wilderness road-- I go on my way rejoicing In hope of the glory of God. "Then no more in the earthen vessel The treasure of God shall be, But in full and unclouded beauty, O Lord, wilt Thou shine through me. "All, all in Thy new creation The glory of God shall see; And the lamp for that light eternal The Bride of the Lamb shall be. "A golden lamp in the heavens, That all may see and adore The Lamb who was slain and who liveth, Who liveth for evermore. "So I go on my way rejoicing That the heavens and earth shall see His grace, and His glory and beauty, In the depth of His love to me." Our mission throughout eternity is to make known the love and wisdom of God that He may not only be all, but in all. He is in us now, but we want Him to be in all, and it will be through us that God will let the whole universe be so filled with the glorious knowledge of His love and wisdom that these words will at last be fulfilled--"God ... all and in all." [Footnote: I Cor. xv. 28.] We are passing through wars and convulsions and revolutions hitherto unknown, but a glorious future is awaiting us, and one thing is certain, that nothing can "separate us from the love of God which is in Christ Jesus our Lord." [Footnote: Rom. viii. 39.] That is our security. It is also certain that it is not in the power of the devil to destroy the Church of God, for we are wanted in the ages to come. It is the Church which is to be the glory of Christ to all Eternity. We are also wanted _now_ in a very special way. Men's hearts are failing them for fear, they need strong, calm, prayerful helpers in this time of perplexity. Who can speak a word of cheer and encouragement? Who can point them to the Rock of Ages which cannot be moved? Who can inspire them with faith and hope? Only the one who has himself made God his Refuge. It is in times of trouble that the worldly man turns for help and sympathy to the believer. It is through us that God would work out His purpose of grace and love to the world. A young man who had met with a bitter disappointment went to an aged Christian and poured out his trouble. After hearing his sad story, his friend said in a calm, tender voice, "God knows all about it, there is no such thing as chance in the world." "What is there then?" asked the young man eagerly. "There is _love_, Eternal _love_," was the answer. The reason why the believer is kept in perfect peace is because he looks beyond all the tumult of battle, the bitter strife and terrible bloodshed to the time when God will gather together all things in Christ, for He is to be Head over all. LOVE, ETERNAL LOVE. Never for a moment shall that love cease to bless us and shield us. Whatever may happen to our bodies nothing can touch the eternal life within. Do you feel anxious to know whether you will have a share in the glory? I will tell you how you may know. You remember Christian had a roll given him by Evangelist which he was to give in at the Celestial Gate. When you first come to Jesus as a poor sinner the Holy Spirit gives you four precious words written as it were in a roll for you to hide in your heart until the moment when Jesus comes and you are caught up to meet Him in the air. Take your Bible and you will find there four precious words which God has written for you to rest upon, and which will never fail you. 1. REDEEMED. [Footnote: Pet. i. 18, 19] "Bought with a price," and the price was the life-blood of God's dear Son, so we belong to the Church of Christ which He has "purchased with His own blood." [Footnote: Acts xx. 28] 2. SEALED. [Footnote: Eph. i. 13] The Seal is God's mark upon us showing to men and angels and devils that we are His "purchased possession"; that we belong to Him, spirit, soul and body absolutely, and for ever, for God's solid foundation stands unmoved, bearing this inscription, "The Lord knoweth them that are His." [Footnote: 2 Tim. ii. 19] A Christian doctor who had been in the Crimean War and in China, was very particular when going on a journey to have all his luggage "_labelled and ready_." In his last illness he turned to a friend and said with a smile, "_I am labelled and ready_"! and then he gave this beautiful testimony: "There is only one thing that makes me quite ready and quite sure of Heaven, it is that my sins are forgiven by trusting in the Blood of Jesus. Nothing that we can do can save us, it is what He did. He alone can give us peace with God." 3. KEPT. [Footnote: 1 Pet. i. 5] A young Christian told a friend that he was afraid as to whether he would be able to live the life. The friend looked at him, and said, with a ringing voice of assurance, "He is able to keep you from falling." [Footnote: Jude 24] He then saw that he was no longer in his own keeping, but in _God's_ keeping, and that the keeping would be up to the last moment, and be so complete that he would be handed over without the smallest defect to stand in "the presence of His glory with exceeding joy." 4. GLORIFIED. [Footnote: Rom. viii. 30] This is the last and grandest of the four precious words which God has given to strengthen our hearts, and it is the crown of all. What shall we say? No words can express what it will be, it will surpass our highest expectations. But we know that it will be fulness of life, fulness of joy, fulness of love, and all our deepest longings satisfied, all our highest hopes fulfilled, and it will be for ever and for ever! Let us hold fast God's sure word of promise, "The Lord will give grace and glory." [Footnote: Ps. lxxxiv. 11] Let us lift up our hearts in praise and thanksgiving to Him that is able to do exceeding abundantly above all that we ask or think, according to the power that worketh in us, UNTO HIM IS THE GLORY IN THE CHURCH, THROUGHOUT ALL AGES, TO ALL ETERNITY, WORLD WITHOUT END. AMEN. [Footnote: Eph. iii. 20, 21] ADDRESS X THE KINGDOM OF GOD PORTION OF SCRIPTURE--St. Matthew xxi. 1-17, and Revelation xi. 15-18. Now, therefore, why speak ye not a word of bringing the King back? [Footnote: 2 Sam. xix. 10] This question was asked a long time ago. You remember how David was driven from his throne. His son Absalom rebelled against him and he had to leave the country; but Absalom is now dead, the rebellion is at an end, and still David is an exile. At last some of the people talk it over together and inquire of one another, "Why say ye not a word, or why are ye silent about bringing back the King?" So they sent word to the King and Judah went to meet him. I was reminded of this Old Testament story when a correspondent wrote in the spring of this year as follows: "I have spent two days in what is left of Belgium, and I find that the dream of the Belgians is to see the King ride back into Brussels. Men and women, old and young, talk and plan and have visions of the time when the King comes Home." It is touching to think how these people, in spite of all their misfortunes, still love their brave King and cling to the hope of having him once more among them in his rightful place on the throne and then their ruined towns and homes will be restored. It makes me think of another King, our Lord Jesus, who entered the City of Jerusalem amidst the cheers and acclamations of a large crowd, and how the words came true: "Tell ye the daughter of Sion, Behold thy King cometh unto thee." [Footnote: St. Matt. xxi. 5] And now they cry, "Hosanna"--He is come, He is come! and the children's voices ring out with praise. But this proclaiming Him as King aroused the enmity of some of the rulers and they stirred up the people against Him. Here was the opportunity, the golden opportunity, for accepting or rejecting the Son of God. They had listened to His teaching, they brought their sick to Him for healing, they appreciated the benefits of His ministry, but they refused to submit to His authority, so they were determined to silence His Voice. Sin shows itself in the rebellion of the _will_ against God, and so they lost the opportunity, and instead of accepting Him, they crucified their King. The words are still true: "Behold, thy King cometh," He comes to set up the Kingdom of God in our hearts, so the opportunity is given to you now to accept Him as your King. We listen to the good news about peace and forgiveness, but are we willing to make Jesus King in our hearts? Here is the great test, it is here that the opposition of man's _will_ begins to show itself, because if He is to be our Lord and Master He claims all we are and all we have. He must be Lord of _all_ or He is not Lord at all; nothing less will do. There is no real union with Him by faith until we say in our hearts, "My Lord, and my God." [Footnote: St. John xx. 28.] It is impossible to accept Christ as our Saviour without also yielding to Him as King, and proclaiming Him as King. A young friend of mine has these three simple words, "Make Jesus King," in a frame hanging on the wall of her room. She told me they were the means of leading her to decide for Christ. Nothing but the power of the Holy Spirit can enable us to yield to Him as our Lord and Master. "No man can say that Jesus is the Lord but by the Holy Ghost." [Footnote: 1 Cor. xii. 3.] This is the central fact--"JESUS IS LORD." "For to this end Christ both died, and rose, and revived, that He might be Lord both of the dead and living." [Footnote: Rom. xiv. 9] It is the Holy Spirit who first reveals Christ to your heart and enables you to say, "Thou art my Lord," [Footnote: Ps. xvi. 2] and then He gives you grace to love and obey Him as your Master. So, whether you look backward to the moment when your sins were all blotted out, "_He is Lord_"; or whether you look at your present life with all its shortcomings, "_He is Lord_"; or whether you look forward to the end, waiting for His Coming, _He is Lord_. "Can you say truly-- "He cleansed my heart from all its sin, What a wonderful Saviour! And now He reigns and rules within, What a wonderful Saviour!" We have seen our Lord proclaimed King at Jerusalem and accepting the title. Although rejected and crucified, His every word and action was kingly up to the last moment of His earthly life. He spoke openly of His Kingdom to Pilate, for when Pilate asked Him, "Art Thou a King then?" [Footnote: St. John xviii. 37] He answered, "I am." The purple robe, the crown of thorns, the sceptre, though offered in mockery, were all kingly, for the superscription over the Cross, THIS IS JESUS, THE KING OF THE JEWS, [Footnote: St. Matt. xxvii. 37] was true. The Cross was the way to the Throne. "I beheld, and lo in the midst of the Throne stood a Lamb, as it had been slain." [Footnote: Rev. v. 6] In that dark, dark hour of Christ's agony on the Cross, there was only one man who recognised Christ as King, and that was the dying thief. It was a very real cry that broke from his lips in his utter need--"Lord, remember me when Thou comest into Thy Kingdom." [Footnote: St. Luke xxiii. 42] It was wonderful faith. Can you think of any other as wonderful? He recognised Christ as King--not a dying King leaving His throne--but a victorious King about to enter His Kingdom. The penitent thief saw even more than this, he saw that it was a Kingdom of souls rescued from sin's bondage and slavery; not a Kingdom of the great ones of earth, but for outcasts such as he was, so he cried, "Take me as I am and give me a place in the Kingdom." But the answer to the cry was as wonderful as the cry itself--"To-day shalt thou be with Me in Paradise." When the King said "With Me," He meant, "I am passing from darkness into Everlasting Light. Come with Me. I have broken the chains of sin, I am setting the prisoners free. Come with Me." From that moment the penitent thief was identified with Christ in His death and in His Risen Life. Is this true of you? When earth rejected the King, not only was Heaven opened to receive Him, but a triumphant reception awaited Him. Heaven resounded with the joyful chorus of the angelic hosts--"Lift up your heads, O ye gates, and be ye lift up, ye everlasting doors, and the King of Glory shall come in"! [Footnote: Ps. xxiv. 7.] So for nineteen hundred years the heavens have received Him, but once again the everlasting doors will open, and the Son of Man will come in "the clouds of heaven with power and great glory." [Footnote: St. Matt. xxiv. 30.] What has been going on during all these years? Kingdoms and world powers have risen up one after another, but all have failed to give what the world really needs, "A King to reign in righteousness." [Footnote: Isa. xxxii. 1.] God is still saying, "Why do the heathen rage and the people imagine a vain thing?" [Footnote: Ps. ii. 1.] But in spite of man's rebellion and forgetfulness of God, God's purpose will stand firm, "Yet have I set My King upon My holy hill of Zion." [Footnote: Ps. ii. 6.] God's purpose is to have all power placed in the hands of One Man, and that is Christ. What will be the final winding up of Earth's suffering and struggles? The veil will be drawn aside and "The Glory of the LORD will be revealed." [Footnote: Isa. xl. 5.] It is the glory of the Personal Presence of the Son of God. When? Where? How? will the glory be seen. Look back into the Garden of Eden. God gave man control over all, but he listened to another voice and then he lost control. The question was raised, "Who was to rule, Satan or God?" By and by another veil will be drawn aside and we shall see how the unseen powers of darkness have been at work behind all the wars and sin and rebellion of this poor world. "An enemy hath done this." [Footnote: St. Matt. xiii. 28.] It is the devil who blinds the eyes, hardens the hearts, and deadens the conscience of mankind. But we must not lose heart or think that Satan is getting the upper hand. The Word of God enables us not only to trace some of his plots and schemes, but it shows us _why_ God has been so long silent and _when_ God intends to break that silence. [Footnote: See Ps. 1] The victory is sure, but whose victory? The Victory of the Son of God. But first the Jews must return to their own land, and then "the kings of the earth and of the whole world" will be gathered to the battle of the great Day of God Almighty. All these nations will fight against the Jews at Jerusalem in the place called Armageddon. It is really a desperate attempt of the devil who is sending forth these nations to make war with the Lamb. Jerusalem will be taken, and when the enemy is rejoicing over the victory and the destruction of the Jews seems certain, then suddenly they see the Son of Man coming in the clouds of heaven with power and great glory, [Footnote: St. Matt. xxiv. 30] "the armies" which are "in Heaven" following Him. [Footnote: Rev. xix. 14] Then shall the Lord go forth and fight against those nations, and His feet shall stand in that day upon the Mount of Olives, [Footnote: Zech. xiv. 3, 4] and "every eye shall see Him." [Footnote: Rev. i. 7] The armies of the enemy will be destroyed and God's people will be delivered. In this marvellous way the Lamb shall overcome, for "He is Lord of lords and King of kings and they that are with Him are called, and chosen, and faithful." [Footnote: Rev. xvii. 14] It will not only be the deliverance of the Jews from their enemies, but the wonder of that great day will be that at last their eyes will be opened to see Him as the Messiah, so they will be converted and restored. The Lord says, "I will pour upon them the spirit of grace and of supplication and they shall look upon Me whom they have pierced." [Footnote: Zech. xii. 10.] What an overwhelming sight! The same Jesus whom they despised and rejected is come down from heaven to deliver them, but they only think of Him as the One whom they have pierced. The glory which meets their eye at that moment is the glory of the love and compassion of the Crucified One. The result of looking is mourning. They get such a view of their sin against His love that they are filled with godly sorrow. When the eye of faith is turned to Jesus then the tears flow. Oh, how perfectly will all Satan's evil influence in man's heart be destroyed in the presence of Jesus. "In that Day we have seen what has taken place at the beginning of that day, and now before it closes a fountain will be opened to the house of David and to the inhabitants of Jerusalem for sin and for uncleanness." [Footnote: Zech. xiii. 1.] With the opening of that fountain there is grace given to _use_ it, for God says, "I will pour upon them the spirit of grace." Many see the fountain now who never use it! Precious fountain, of all things most precious to poor sinners such as you and me. No one but God's dear Son, and nothing but His atoning death on Calvary, could open that fountain. The fountain is still flowing--has it cleansed you? Then the Kingdom of God is set up on earth. Who can tell the good news so well as these restored and converted ones? The question is sometimes asked, Has the Gospel lost its power? Is Christianity a failure? No. The Gospel will yet be preached throughout the whole world. Who will be the preachers? Converted Jews, [Footnote: Isa. lxi. 6] "a mighty angel, [Footnote: Rev. xiv. 6] and glorified saints, for they shall be priests of God." [Footnote: Rev. xx. 6] What will be the result of their preaching? There will be a world-wide revival. "The earth shall be filled with the knowledge of the Lord as the waters cover the sea." [Footnote: Hab. ii. 14] When Christ comes to us now, it is to rule in the hearts of His people, but _then_ He will reign over a believing world without opposition, for Satan will be bound and Christ will take the Kingdom which is His by redemption, and His glory will be seen on Mount Zion. "Out of Zion, the perfection of beauty, God hath shined." [Footnote: Ps. 1. 2] And the seventh angel sounded and there were great voices in heaven saying: "The kingdoms of this world are become the kingdoms of our Lord and of His Christ and He shall reign for ever and ever." [Footnote: Rev. xi. 15] After reigning on earth for a thousand years there will be the Judgment of "the Great White Throne," [Footnote: Rev. xx. 11-15] when all those who had no part in the first resurrection will be raised, and all whose names are not "written in the Book of Life" will be "cast into the lake of fire." "This is the second death." Has your name been entered in the Book of Life? One more glorious Vision of the Kingdom is unfolded before us, and the glory grows brighter and brighter, for it is "THE EVERLASTING KINGDOM." "I saw a new heaven and a new earth: for the first heaven and the first earth were passed away and there was no more sea.... And He that sat upon the throne said, Behold I make all things new...." [Footnote: Rev. xxi. 1, 5] "And there shall be no more curse: but the throne of God and of the Lamb shall be in it; and His servants shall serve Him; and they shall see His face and His name shall be in their foreheads. "And there shall be no night there: and they need no candle, neither light of the sun, for the Lord God giveth them light: and they shall reign for ever and ever." [Footnote: Rev. xxii. 3-5] How wonderful that God should promise us an abundant entrance into His Everlasting Kingdom. [Footnote: 2 Pet. i. 11] What does an abundant entrance mean? It means that we shall not, as it were, just creep into heaven by a side door, but that we shall have a grand welcome from the glorified ones there and from the Lord Himself, all the doors, as it were, being thrown wide open to receive us. Are we preparing for it? A mother who was dying called her little daughter who was ten years old to her bedside and said tenderly, "I want you to learn this little prayer, 'O God, prepare me for all Thou art preparing for me.'" And the prayer was answered, for that little girl was Frances Ridley Havergal, who lived a consecrated life, and passed away singing about the Lord whom she loved. I must give you some words spoken by that holy man Samuel Rutherford who was persecuted and put into prison for Christ's sake. "I wonder many times," he said, "that ever a child of God should have a sad heart considering what the Lord is preparing for him. When we get Home above and enter into possession of our Brother's fair Kingdom, it will be like one step from prison to glory." These words came true, for soon after this he received notice to appear before his judges in court, but before the day of the trial came he died. So it was literally one step for him from prison to glory. His own account of it is given in the following lines---- "They've summoned me before them, Thither I may not come; My King says, Come up hither, My Lord says, Welcome Home." What will it all be like? No words of ours can describe it, but God Himself tells us what He will be to us and what He will do for us in the Eternal Kingdom. "And I heard a great voice out of heaven saying, Behold, the tabernacle of God is with men, and He will dwell with them, and they shall be His people, and God Himself shall be with them, and be their God." [Footnote: Rev. xxi. 3-4] "And God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes; and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain, for the former things are passed away." The Crown of it all is that "God Himself shall be with them and be their God." [Footnote: 1 Cor. xv. 28] All creatures will say, "God is everything to me," for GOD will be "All in All."' We have traced out some of the wonderful truths which God has revealed to us about Himself. "This is Life Eternal that they might know Thee, the only True God and Jesus Christ, whom Thou hast sent." [Footnote: St. John xvii. 3] Apart from God, all is death and ruin for ever; to _know_ God, to _trust_ God, to _love_ God is Eternal Life. The great question is, What is God to me? Can you say--"O GOD, THOU ART MY GOD"? 
9103	----	Proofreaders. HTML version by Al Haines. THE MIRACLES OF OUR LORD BY George MacDonald THE MIRACLES OF OUR LORD 1870 CONTENTS I. INTRODUCTION II. THE BEGINNING OF MIRACLES III. THE CURE OF SIMON'S WIFE'S MOTHER IV. MIRACLES OF HEALING UNSOLICITED V. MIRACLES OF HEALING SOLICITED BY THE SUFFERS VI. MIRACLES GRANTED TO THE PRAYER OF FRIENDS VII. THE CASTING OUT OF DEVILS VIII. THE RAISING OF THE DEAD IX. THE GOVERNMENT OF NATURE X. MIRACLES OF DESTRUCTION XI. THE RESURRECTION XII. THE TRANSFIGURATION I. INTRODUCTION. I have been requested to write some papers on our Lord's miracles. I venture the attempt in the belief that, seeing they are one of the modes in which his unseen life found expression, we are bound through them to arrive at some knowledge of that life. For he has come, The Word of God, that we may know God: every word of his then, as needful to the knowing of himself, is needful to the knowing of God, and we must understand, as far as we may, every one of his words and every one of his actions, which, with him, were only another form of word. I believe this the immediate end of our creation. And I believe that this will at length result in the unravelling for us of what must now, more or less, appear to every man the knotted and twisted coil of the universe. It seems to me that it needs no great power of faith to believe in the miracles--for true faith is a power, not a mere yielding. There are far harder things to believe than the miracles. For a man is not required to believe in them save as believing in Jesus. If a man can believe that there is a God, he may well believe that, having made creatures capable of hungering and thirsting for him, he must be capable of speaking a word to guide them in their feeling after him. And if he is a grand God, a God worthy of being God, yea (his metaphysics even may show the seeker), if he is a God capable of being God, he will speak the clearest grandest word of guidance which he can utter intelligible to his creatures. For us, that word must simply be the gathering of all the expressions of his visible works into an infinite human face, lighted up by an infinite human soul behind it, namely, that potential essence of man, if I may use a word of my own, which was in the beginning with God. If God should _thus_ hear the cry of the noblest of his creatures, for such are all they who do cry after him, and in very deed show them his face, it is but natural to expect that the deeds of the great messenger should be just the works of the Father done in little. If he came to reveal his Father in miniature, as it were (for in these unspeakable things we can but use figures, and the homeliest may be the holiest), to tone down his great voice, which, too loud for men to hear it aright, could but sound to them as an inarticulate thundering, into such a still small voice as might enter their human ears in welcome human speech, then the works that his Father does so widely, so grandly that they transcend the vision of men, the Son must do briefly and sharply before their very eyes. This, I think, is the true nature of the miracles, an epitome of God's processes in nature beheld in immediate connection with their source--a source as yet lost to the eyes and too often to the hearts of men in the far-receding gradations of continuous law. That men might see the will of God at work, Jesus did the works of his Father thus. Here I will suppose some honest, and therefore honourable, reader objecting: But do you not thus place the miracles in dignity below the ordinary processes of nature? I answer: The miracles are mightier far than any goings on of nature as beheld by common eyes, dissociating them from a living Will; but the miracles are surely less than those mighty goings on of nature with God beheld at their heart. In the name of him who delighted to say "My Father is greater than I," I will say that his miracles in bread and in wine were far less grand and less beautiful than the works of the Father they represented, in making the corn to grow in the valleys, and the grapes to drink the sunlight on the hill-sides of the world, with all their infinitudes of tender gradation and delicate mystery of birth. But the Son of the Father be praised, who, as it were, condensed these mysteries before us, and let us see the precious gifts coming at once from gracious hands--hands that love could kiss and nails could wound. There are some, I think, who would perhaps find it more possible to accept the New Testament story if the miracles did not stand in the way. But perhaps, again, it would be easier for them, to accept both if they could once look into the true heart of these miracles. So long as they regard only the surface of them, they will, most likely, see in them only a violation of the laws of nature: when they behold the heart of them, they will recognize there at least a possible fulfilment of her deepest laws. With such, however, is not my main business now, any more than with those who cannot believe in a God at all, and therefore to whom a miracle is an absurdity. I may, however, just make this one remark with respect to the latter--that perhaps it is better they should believe in no God than believe in such a God as they have yet been able to imagine. Perhaps thus they are nearer to a true faith--except indeed they prefer the notion of the Unconscious generating the Conscious, to that of a self-existent Love, creative in virtue of its being love. Such have never loved woman or child save after a fashion which has left them content that death should seize on the beloved and bear them back to the maternal dust. But I doubt if there can be any who thus would choose a sleep--walking Pan before a wakeful Father. At least, they cannot know the Father and choose the Pan. Let us then recognize the works of the Father as epitomized in the miracles of the Son. What in the hands of the Father are the mighty motions and progresses and conquests of life, in the hands of the Son are miracles. I do not myself believe that he valued the working of these miracles as he valued the utterance of the truth in words; but all that he did had the one root, _obedience_, in which alone can any son be free. And what is the highest obedience? Simply a following of the Father--a doing of what the Father does. Every true father wills that his child should be as he is in his deepest love, in his highest hope. All that Jesus does is of his Father. What we see in the Son is of the Father. What his works mean concerning him, they mean concerning the Father. Much as I shrink from the notion of a formal shaping out of design in any great life, so unlike the endless freedom and spontaneity of nature (and He is the Nature of nature), I cannot help observing that his first miracle was one of creation--at least, is to our eyes more like creation than almost any other--for who can say that it was creation, not knowing in the least what creation is, or what was the process in this miracle? II. THE BEGINNING OF MIRACLES. Already Jesus had his disciples, although as yet he had done no mighty works. They followed him for himself and for his mighty words. With his mother they accompanied him to a merry-making at a wedding. With no retiring regard, with no introverted look of self-consciousness or self-withdrawal, but more human than any of the company, he regarded their rejoicings with perfect sympathy, for, whatever suffering might follow, none knew so well as he that-- "there is one Who makes the joy the last in every song." The assertion in the old legendary description of his person and habits, that he was never known to smile, I regard as an utter falsehood, for to me it is incredible--almost as a geometrical absurdity. In that glad company the eyes of a divine artist, following the spiritual lines of the group, would have soon settled on his face as the centre whence radiated all the gladness, where, as I seem to see him, he sat in the background beside his mother. Even the sunny face of the bridegroom would appear less full of light than his. But something is at hand which will change his mood. For no true man had he been if his mood had never changed. His high, holy, obedient will, his tender, pure, strong heart never changed, but his mood, his feeling did change. For the mood must often, and in many cases ought to be the human reflex of changing circumstance. The change comes from his mother. She whispers to him that they have no more wine. The bridegroom's liberality had reached the limit of his means, for, like his guests, he was, most probably, of a humble calling, a craftsman, say, or a fisherman. It must have been a painful little trial to him if he knew the fact; but I doubt if he heard of the want before it was supplied. There was nothing in this however to cause the change in our Lord's mood of which I have spoken. It was no serious catastrophe, at least to him, that the wine should fail. His mother had but told him the fact; only there is more than words in every commonest speech that passes. It was not his mother's words, but the tone and the look with which they were interwoven that wrought the change. She knew that her son was no common man, and she believed in him, with an unripe, unfeatured faith. This faith, working with her ignorance and her fancy, led her to expect the great things of the world from him. This was a faith which must fail that it might grow. Imperfection must fail that strength may come in its place. It is well for the weak that their faith should fail them, for it may at the moment be resting its wings upon the twig of some brittle fancy, instead of on a branch of the tree of life. But, again, what was it in his mother's look and tone that should work the change in our Lord's mood? The request implied in her words could give him no offence, for he granted that request; and he never would have done a thing he did not approve, should his very mother ask him. The _thoughts of_ the mother lay not in her words, but in the expression that accompanied them, and it was to those thoughts that our Lord replied. Hence his answer, which has little to do with her spoken request, is the key both to her thoughts and to his. If we do not understand his reply, we _may_ misunderstand the miracle--certainly we are in danger of grievously misunderstanding him--a far worse evil. How many children are troubled in heart that Jesus should have spoken to his mother as our translation compels them to suppose he did speak! "Woman, what have I to do with thee? Mine hour is not yet come." His hour for working the miracle _had_ come, for he wrought it; and if he had to do with one human soul at all, that soul must be his mother. The "woman," too, sounds strange in our ears. This last, however, is our fault: we allow words to sink from their high rank, and then put them to degraded uses. What word so full of grace and tender imagings to any true man as that one word! The Saviour did use it to his mother; and when he called her _woman_, the good custom of the country and the time was glorified in the word as it came from his lips _fulfilled_, of humanity; for those lips were the open gates of a heart full of infinite meanings. Hence whatever word he used had more of the human in it than that word had ever held before. What he did say was this--"Woman, what is there common to thee and me? My hour is not yet come." What! was not their humanity common to them? Had she not been fit, therefore chosen, to bear him? Was she not his mother? But his words had no reference to the relation between them; they only referred to the present condition of her mind, or rather the nature of the thought and expectation which now occupied it. Her hope and his intent were at variance; there was no harmony between his thought and hers; and it was to that thought and that hope of hers that his words were now addressed. To paraphrase the words--and if I do so with reverence and for the sake of the spirit which is higher than the word, I think I am allowed to do so-- "Woman, what is there in your thoughts now that is in sympathy with mine? Also the hour that you are expecting is not come yet." What, then, was in our Lord's thoughts? and what was in his mother's thoughts to call forth his words? She was thinking the time had come for making a show of his power--for revealing what a great man he was--for beginning to let that glory shine, which was, in her notion, to culminate in the grandeur of a righteous monarch--a second Solomon, forsooth, who should set down the mighty in the dust, and exalt them of low degree. Here was the opportunity for working like a prophet of old, and revealing of what a mighty son she was the favoured mother. And of what did the glow of her face, the light in her eyes, and the tone with which she uttered the words, "They have no wine," make Jesus think? Perhaps of the decease which he must accomplish at Jerusalem; perhaps of a throne of glory betwixt the two thieves; certainly of a kingdom of heaven not such as filled her imagination, even although her heaven-descended Son was the king thereof. A kingdom of exulting obedience, not of acquiescence, still less of compulsion, lay germed in his bosom, and he must be laid in the grave ere that germ could send up its first green lobes into the air of the human world. No throne, therefore, of earthly grandeur for him! no triumph for his blessed mother such as she dreamed! There was nothing common in their visioned ends. Hence came the change of mood to Jesus, and hence the words that sound at first so strange, seeming to have so little to do with the words of his mother. But no change of mood could change a feeling towards mother or friends. The former, although she could ill understand what he meant, never fancied in his words any unkindness to her. She, too, had the face of the speaker to read; and from that face came such answer to her prayer for her friends, that she awaited no confirming words, but in the confidence of a mother who knew her child, said at once to the servants, "Whatsoever he saith unto you, do it." If any one object that I have here imagined too much, I would remark, first, that the records in the Gospel are very brief and condensed; second, that the germs of a true intelligence must lie in this small seed, and our hearts are the soil in which it must unfold itself; third, that we are bound to understand the story, and that the foregoing are the suppositions on which I am able to understand it in a manner worthy of what I have learned concerning Him. I am bound to refuse every interpretation that seems to me unworthy of Him, for to accept such would be to sin against the Holy Ghost. If I am wrong in my idea either of that which I receive or of that which I reject, as soon as the fact is revealed to me I must cast the one away and do justice to the other. Meantime this interpretation seems to me to account for our Lord's words in a manner he will not be displeased with even if it fail to reach the mark of the fact. That St John saw, and might expect such an interpretation to be found in the story, barely as he has told it, will be rendered the more probable if we remember his own similar condition and experience when he and his brother James prayed the Lord for the highest rank in his kingdom, and received an answer which evidently flowed from the same feeling to which I have attributed that given on this occasion to his mother. "'Fill the water-pots with water.' And they filled them up to the brim. 'Draw out now, and bear unto the governor of the feast.' And they bare it. 'Thou hast kept the good wine until now.'" It is such a thing of course that, when our Lord gave them wine, it would be of the best, that it seems almost absurd to remark upon it. What the Father would make and will make, and that towards which he is ever working, is _the Best;_ and when our Lord turns the water into wine it must be very good. It is like his Father, too, not to withhold good wine because men abuse it. Enforced virtue is unworthy of the name. That men may rise above temptation, it is needful that they should have temptation. It is the will of him who makes the grapes and the wine. Men will even call Jesus himself a wine-bibber. What matters it, so long as he works as the Father works, and lives as the Father wills? I dare not here be misunderstood. God chooses that men should be tried, but let a man beware of tempting his neighbour. God knows how and how much, and where and when: man is his brother's keeper, and must keep him according to his knowledge. A man may work the will of God for others, and be condemned therein because he sought his own will and not God's. That our Lord gave this company wine, does not prove that he would have given any company wine. To some he refused even the bread they requested at his hands. Because he gave wine to the wedding-guests, shall man dig a pit at the corner of every street, that the poor may fall therein, spending their money for that which is not bread, and their labour for that which satisfieth not? Let the poor man be tempted as God wills, for the end of God is victory; let not man tempt him, for his end is his neighbour's fall, or at best he heeds it not for the sake of gain, and he shall receive according to his works. To him who can thank God with free heart for his good wine, there is a glad significance in the fact that our Lord's first miracle was this turning of water into wine. It is a true symbol of what he has done for the world in glorifying all things. With his divine alchemy he turns not only water into wine, but common things into radiant mysteries, yea, every meal into a eucharist, and the jaws of the sepulchre into an outgoing gate. I do not mean that he makes any change in the things or ways of God, but a mighty change in the hearts and eyes of men, so that God's facts and God's meanings become their faiths and their hopes. The destroying spirit, who works in the commonplace, is ever covering the deep and clouding the high. For those who listen to that spirit great things cannot be. Such are there, but they cannot see them, for in themselves they do not aspire. They believe, perhaps, in the truth and grace of their first child: when they have spoiled him, they laugh at the praises of childhood. From all that is thus low and wretched, incapable and fearful, he who made the water into wine delivers men, revealing heaven around them, God in all things, truth in every instinct, evil withering and hope springing even in the path of the destroyer. That the wine should be his first miracle, and that the feeding of the multitudes should be the only other creative miracle, will also suggest many thoughts in connection with the symbol he has left us of his relation to his brethren. In the wine and the bread of the eucharist, he reminds us how utterly he has given, is giving, himself for the gladness and the strength of his Father's children. Yea more; for in that he is the radiation of the Father's glory, this bread and wine is the symbol of how utterly the Father gives himself to his children, how earnestly he would have them partakers of his own being. If Jesus was the son of the Father, is it hard to believe that he should give men bread and wine? It was not his power, however, but his glory, that Jesus showed forth in the miracle. His power could not be hidden, but it was a poor thing beside his glory. Yea, power in itself is a poor thing. If it could stand alone, which it cannot, it would be a horror. No amount of lonely power could create. It is the love that is at the root of power, the power of power, which alone can create. What then was this his glory? What was it that made him glorious? It was that, like his Father, he ministered to the wants of men. Had they not needed the wine, not for the sake of whatever show of his power would he have made it. The concurrence of man's need and his love made it possible for that glory to shine forth. It is for this glory most that we worship him. But power is no object of adoration, and they who try to worship it are slaves. Their worship is no real worship. Those who trembled at the thunder from the mountain went and worshipped a golden calf; but Moses went into the thick darkness to find his God. How far the expectation of the mother Mary that her son would, by majesty of might, appeal to the wedding guests, and arouse their enthusiasm for himself, was from our Lord's thoughts, may be well seen in the fact that the miracle was not beheld even by the ruler of the feast; while the report of it would probably receive little credit from at least many of those who partook of the good wine. So quietly was it done, so entirely without pre-intimation of his intent, so stolenly, as it were, in the two simple ordered acts, the filling of the water-pots with water, and the drawing of it out again, as to make it manifest that it was done for the ministration. He did not do it even for the show of his goodness, but _to be good_. This alone could show his Father's goodness. It was done because here was an opportunity in which all circumstances combined with the bodily presence of the powerful and the prayer of his mother, to render it fit that the love of his heart should go forth in giving his merry-making brothers and sisters more and better wine to drink. And herein we find another point in which this miracle of Jesus resembles the working of his Father. For God ministers to us so gently, so stolenly, as it were, with such a quiet, tender, loving absence of display, that men often drink of his wine, as these wedding guests drank, without knowing whence it comes--without thinking that the giver is beside them, yea, in their very hearts. For God will not compel the adoration of men: it would be but a pagan worship that would bring to his altars. He will rouse in men a sense of need, which shall grow at length into a longing; he will make them feel after him, until by their search becoming able to behold him, he may at length reveal to them the glory of their Father. He works silently--keeps quiet behind his works, as it were, that he may truly reveal himself in the right time. With this intent also, when men find his wine good and yet do not rise and search for the giver, he will plague them with sore plagues, that the good wine of life may not be to them, and therefore to him and the universe, an evil thing. It would seem that the correlative of creation is search; that as God has _made us_, we must _find_ him; that thus our action must reflect his; that thus he glorifies us with a share in the end of all things, which is that the Father and his children may be one in thought, judgment, feeling, and intent, in a word, that they may mean the same thing. St John says that Jesus thus "manifested forth his glory, and his disciples believed on him." I doubt if any but his disciples knew of the miracle; or of those others who might see or hear of it, if any believed on him because of it. It is possible to see a miracle, and not believe in it; while many of those who saw a miracle of our Lord believed in the miracle, and yet did not believe in him. I wonder how many Christians there are who so thoroughly believe God made them that they can laugh in God's name; who understand that God invented laughter and gave it to his children. Such belief would add a keenness to the zest in their enjoyment, and slay that sneering laughter of which a man grimaces to the fiends, as well as that feeble laughter in which neither heart nor intellect has a share. It would help them also to understand the depth of this miracle. The Lord of gladness delights in the laughter of a merry heart. These wedding guests could have done without wine, surely without more wine and better wine. But the Father looks with no esteem upon a bare existence, and is ever working, even by suffering, to render life more rich and plentiful. His gifts are to the overflowing of the cup; but when the cup would overflow, he deepens its hollow, and widens its brim. Our Lord is profuse like his Father, yea, will, at his own sternest cost, be lavish to his brethren. He will give them wine indeed. But even they who know whence the good wine comes, and joyously thank the giver, shall one day cry out, like the praiseful ruler of the feast to him who gave it not, "Thou hast kept the good wine until now." III. THE CURE OF SIMON'S WIFE'S MOTHER. In respect of the purpose I have in view, it is of little consequence in what order I take the miracles. I choose for my second chapter the story of the cure of St Peter's mother-in-law. Bare as the narrative is, the event it records has elements which might have been moulded with artistic effect--on the one side the woman tossing in the folds of the fever, on the other the entering Life. But it is not from this side that I care to view it. Neither do I wish to look at it from the point of view of the bystanders, although it would appear that we had the testimony of three of them in the three Gospels which contain the story. We might almost determine the position in the group about the bed occupied by each of the three, from the differences between their testimonies. One says Jesus stood over her; another, he touched her hand; the third, he lifted her up: they agree that the fever left her, and she ministered to them.--In the present case, as in others behind, I mean to regard the miracle from the point of view of the person healed. Pain, sickness, delirium, madness, as great infringements of the laws of nature as the miracles themselves, are such veritable presences to the human experience, that what bears no relation to their existence, cannot be the God of the human race. And the man who cannot find his God in the fog of suffering, no less than he who forgets his God in the sunshine of health, has learned little either of St Paul or St John. The religion whose light renders no dimmest glow across this evil air, cannot be more than a dim reflex of the true. And who will mourn to find this out? There are, perhaps, some so anxious about themselves that, rather than say, "I have it not: it is a better thing than I have ever possessed," they would say, "I have the precious thing, but in the hour of trial it is of little avail." Let us rejoice that the glory is great, even if we dare not say, It is mine. Then shall we try the more earnestly to lay hold upon it. So long as men must toss in weary fancies all the dark night, crying, "Would God it were morning," to find, it may be, when it arrives, but little comfort in the grey dawn, so long must we regard God as one to be seen or believed in--cried unto at least--across all the dreary flats of distress or dark mountains of pain, and therefore those who would help their fellows must sometimes look for him, as it were, through the eyes of those who suffer, and try to help them to think, not from ours, but from their own point of vision. I shall therefore now write almost entirely for those to whom suffering is familiar, or at least well known. And first I would remind them that all suffering is against the ideal order of things. No man can love pain. It is an unlovely, an ugly, abhorrent thing. The more true and delicate the bodily and mental constitution, the more must it recoil from pain. No one, I think, could dislike pain so much as the Saviour must have disliked it. God dislikes it. He is then on our side in the matter. He knows it is grievous to be borne, a thing he would cast out of his blessed universe, save for reasons. But one will say--How can this help me when the agony racks me, and the weariness rests on me like a gravestone?--Is it nothing, I answer, to be reminded that suffering is in its nature transitory--that it is against the first and final will of God--that it is a means only, not an end? Is it nothing to be told that it will pass away? Is not that what you would? God made man for lordly skies, great sunshine, gay colours, free winds, and delicate odours; and however the fogs may be needful for the soul, right gladly does he send them away, and cause the dayspring from on high to revisit his children. While they suffer he is brooding over them an eternal day, suffering with them but rejoicing in their future. He is the God of the individual man, or he could be no God of the race. I believe it is possible--and that some have achieved it--so to believe in and rest upon the immutable Health--so to regard one's own sickness as a kind of passing aberration, that the soul is thereby sustained, even as sometimes in a weary dream the man is comforted by telling himself it is but a dream, and that waking is sure. God would have us reasonable and strong. Every effort of his children to rise above the invasion of evil in body or in mind is a pleasure to him. Few, I suppose, attain to this; but there is a better thing which to many, I trust, is easier--to say, Thy will be done. But now let us look at the miracle as received by the woman. She had "a great fever." She was tossing from side to side in vain attempts to ease a nameless misery. Her head ached, and forms dreary, even in their terror, kept rising before her in miserable and aimless dreams; senseless words went on repeating themselves ill her very brain was sick of them; she was destitute, afflicted, tormented; now the centre for the convergence of innumerable atoms, now driven along in an uproar of hideous globes; faces grinned and mocked at her; her mind ever strove to recover itself, and was ever borne away in the rush of invading fancies; but through it all was the nameless unrest, not an aching, nor a burning, nor a stinging, but a bodily grief, dark, drear, and nameless. How could they have borne such before He had come? A sudden ceasing of motions uncontrolled; a coolness gliding through the burning skin; a sense of waking into repose; a consciousness of all-pervading well-being, of strength conquering weakness, of light displacing darkness, of urging life at the heart; and behold! she is sitting up in her bed, a hand clasping hers, a face looking in hers. He has judged the evil thing, and it is gone. He has saved her out of her distresses. They fold away from off her like the cerements of death. She is new-born--new-made--all things are new-born with her--and he who makes all things new is there. From him, she knows, has the healing flowed. He has given of his life to her. Away, afar behind her floats the cloud of her suffering. She almost forgets it in her grateful joy. She is herself now. She rises. The sun is shining. It had been shining all the time--waiting for her. The lake of Galilee is glittering joyously. That too sets forth the law of life. But the fulfilling of the law is love: she rises and ministers. I am tempted to remark in passing, although I shall have better opportunity of dealing with the matter involved, that there is no sign of those whom our Lord cures desiring to retain the privileges of the invalid. The joy of health is labour. He who is restored must be fellow-worker with God. This woman, lifted out of the whelming sand of the fever and set upon her feet, hastens to her ministrations. She has been used to hard work. It is all right now; she must to it again. But who was he who had thus lifted her up? She saw a young man by her side. Is it the young man, Jesus, of whom she has heard? for Capernaum is not far from Nazareth, and the report of his wisdom and goodness must have spread, for he had grown in favour with man as well as with God. Is it he, to whom God has given such power, or is it John, of whom she has also heard? Whether he was a prophet or a son of the prophets, whether he was Jesus or John, she waits not to question; for here are guests; here is something to be done. Questions will keep; work must be despatched. It is the day, and the night is at hand. She rose and ministered unto them. But if we ask who he is, this is the answer: He is the Son of God come to do the works of his Father. Where, then, is the healing of the Father? All the world over, in every man's life and knowledge, almost in every man's personal experience, although it may be unrecognized as such. For just as in certain moods of selfishness our hearts are insensible to the tenderest love of our surrounding families, so the degrading spirit of the commonplace _enables_ us to live in the midst of ministrations, so far from knowing them as such, that it is hard for us to believe that the very heart of God would care to do that which his hand alone can do and is doing every moment. I remind my reader that I have taken it for granted that he confesses there is a God, or at least hopes there may be a God. If any one interposes, saying that science nowadays will not permit him to believe in such a being, I answer it is not for him I am now writing, but for such as have gone through a different course of thought and experience from his. To him I may be honoured to say a word some day. I do not think of him now. But to the reader of my choice I do say that I see no middle course between believing that every alleviation of pain, every dawning of hope across the troubled atmosphere of the spirit, every case of growing well again, is the doing of God, or that there is no God at all--none at least in whom _I_ could believe. Had Christians been believing in God better, more grandly, the present phase of unbelief, which no doubt is needful, and must appear some time in the world's history, would not have appeared in our day. No doubt it has come when it must, and will vanish when it must; but those who do believe are more to blame for it, I think, than those who do not believe. The common kind of belief in God is rationally untenable. Half to an insensate nature, half to a living God, is a worship that cannot stand. God is all in all, or no God at all. The man who goes to church every Sunday, and yet trembles before chance, is a Christian only because Christ has claimed him; is not a Christian as having believed in Him. I would not be hard. There are so many degrees in faith! A man may be on the right track, may be learning of Christ, and be very poor and weak. But I say there is no _standing_ room, no reality of reason, between absolute faith and absolute unbelief. Either not a sparrow falls to the ground without Him, or there is no God, and we are fatherless children. Those who attempt to live in such a limbo as lies between the two, are only driven of the wind and tossed. Has my reader ever known the weariness of suffering, the clouding of the inner sky, the haunting of spectral shapes, the misery of disordered laws, when nature is wrong within him, and her music is out of tune and harsh, when he is shot through with varied griefs and pains, and it seems as there were no life more in the world, save of misery--"pain, pain ever, for ever"? Then, surely, he has also known the turn of the tide, when the pain begins to abate, when the sweet sleep falls upon soul and body, when a faint hope doubtfully glimmers across the gloom! Or has he known the sudden waking from sleep and from fever at once, the consciousness that life is life, that life is the law of things, the coolness and the gladness, when the garments of pain which, like that fabled garment of Dejanira, enwrapped and ate into his being, have folded back from head and heart, and he looks out again once more new-born? It is God. This is his will, his law of life conquering the law of death Tell me not of natural laws, as if I were ignorant of them, or meant to deny them. The question is whether these laws go wheeling on of themselves in a symmetry of mathematical shapes, or whether their perfect order, their unbroken certainty of movement, is not the expression of a perfect intellect informed by a perfect heart. Law is truth: has it a soul of thought, or has it not? If not, then farewell hope and love and possible perfection. But for me, I will hope on, strive on, fight with the invading unbelief; for the horror of being the sport of insensate law, the more perfect the more terrible, is hell and utter perdition. If a man tells me that science says God is not a likely being, I answer, Probably not--such as you, who have given your keen, admirable, enviable powers to the observation of outer things only, are capable of supposing him; but that the God I mean may not be the very heart of the lovely order you see so much better than I, you have given me no reason to fear. My God may be above and beyond and in all that. In this matter of healing, then, as in all the miracles, we find Jesus doing the works of the Father. God is our Saviour: the Son of God comes healing the sick--doing that, I repeat, before our eyes, which the Father, for his own reasons, some of which I think I can see well enough, does from behind the veil of his creation and its laws. The cure comes by law, comes by the physician who brings the law to bear upon us; we awake, and lo! I it is God the Saviour. Every recovery is as much his work as the birth of a child; as much the work of the Father as if it had been wrought by the word of the Son before the eyes of the multitude. Need I, to combat again the vulgar notion that the essence of the miracles lies in their power, dwell upon this miracle further? Surely, no one who honours the Saviour will for a moment imagine him, as he entered the chamber where the woman lay tormented, saying to himself, "Here is an opportunity of showing how mighty my Father is!" No. There was suffering; here was healing. What I could imagine him saying to himself would be, "Here I can help! Here my Father will let me put forth my healing, and give her back to her people." What should we think of a rich man, who, suddenly brought into contact with the starving upon his own estate, should think within himself, "Here is a chance for me! Now I can let them see how rich I am!" and so plunge his hands in his pockets and lay gold upon the bare table? The receivers might well be grateful; but the arm of the poor neighbour put under the head of the dying man, would gather a deeper gratitude, a return of tenderer love. It is heart alone that can satisfy heart. It is the love of God alone that can gather to itself the love of his children. To believe in an almighty being is hardly to believe in a God at all. To believe in a being who, in his weakness and poverty, if such could be, would die for his creatures, would be to believe in a God indeed. IV. MIRACLES OF HEALING UNSOLICITED. In my last chapter I took the healing of Simon's wife's mother as a type of all such miracles, viewed from the consciousness of the person healed. In the multitude of cases--for it must not be forgotten that there was a multitude of which we have no individual record--the experience must have been very similar. The evil thing, the antagonist of their life, departed; they knew in themselves that they were healed; they beheld before them the face and form whence the healing power had gone forth, and they believed in the man. What they believed _about_ him, farther than that he had healed them and was good, I cannot pretend to say. Some said he was one thing, some another, but they believed in the man himself. They felt henceforth the strongest of ties binding his life to their life. He was now the central thought of their being. Their minds lay open to all his influences, operating in time and by holy gradations. The well of life was henceforth to them an unsealed fountain, and endless currents of essential life began to flow from it through their existence. High love urging gratitude awoke the conscience to intenser life; and the healed began to recoil from evil deeds and vile thoughts as jarring with the new friendship. Mere acquaintance with a good man is a powerful antidote to evil; but the knowledge of _such_ a man, as those healed by him knew him, was the mightiest of divine influences. In these miracles of healing our Lord must have laid one of the largest of the foundation-stones of his church. The healed knew him henceforth, not by comprehension, but with their whole being. Their very life acknowledged him. They returned to their homes to recall and love afresh. I wonder what their talk about him was like. What an insight it would give into our common nature, to know how these men and women thought and spoke concerning him! But the time soon arrived when they had to be public martyrs--that is, witnesses to what they knew, come of it what might. After our Lord's departure came the necessity for those who loved him to gather together, thus bearing their testimony at once. Next to his immediate disciples, those whom he had cured must have been the very heart of the young church. Imagine the living strength of such a heart--personal love to the personal helper the very core of it. The church had begun with the first gush of affection in the heart of the mother Mary, and now "great was the company of those that published" the good news to the world. The works of the Father had drawn the hearts of the children, and they spake of the Elder Brother who had brought those works to their doors. The thoughtful remembrances of those who had heard him speak; the grateful convictions of those whom he had healed; the tender memories of those whom he had taken in his arms and blessed--these were the fine fibrous multitudinous roots which were to the church existence, growth, and continuance, for these were they which sucked in the dews and rains of that descending Spirit which was the life of the tree. Individual life is the life of the church. But one may say: Why then did he not cure all the sick in Judæa? Simply because all were not ready to be cured. Many would not have believed in him if he had cured them. Their illness had not yet wrought its work, had not yet ripened them to the possibility of faith; his cure would have left them deeper in evil than before. "He did not many mighty works there because of their unbelief." God will cure a man, will give him a fresh start of health and hope, and the man will be the better for it, even without having _yet_ learned to thank him; but to behold the healer and acknowledge the outstretched hand of help, yet not to believe in the healer, is a terrible thing for the man; and I think the Lord kept his personal healing for such as it would bring at once into some relation of heart and will with himself; whence arose his frequent demand of faith--a demand apparently always responded to: at the word, the flickering belief, the smoking flax, burst into a flame. Evil, that is, physical evil, is a moral good--a mighty means to a lofty end. Pain is an evil; but a good as well, which it would be a great injury to take from the man before it had wrought its end. Then it becomes all evil, and must pass. I now proceed to a group of individual cases in which, as far as we can judge from the narratives, our Lord gave the gift of restoration unsolicited. There are other instances of the same, but they fall into other groups, gathered because of other features. The first is that, recorded by St Luke alone, of the "woman which had a spirit of infirmity eighteen years, and was bowed together, and could in no wise lift up herself." It may be that this belongs to the class of demoniacal possession as well, but I prefer to take it here; for I am very doubtful whether the expression in the narrative--"a spirit of infirmity," even coupled with that of our Lord in defending her and himself from the hypocritical attack of the ruler of the synagogue, "this woman--whom Satan hath bound," renders it necessary to regard it as one of the latter kind. This is, however, a matter of small importance--at least from our present point of view. Bowed earthwards, the necessary blank of her eye the ground and not the horizon, the form divine deformed towards that of the four-footed animals, this woman had been in bondage eighteen years. Necessary as it is to one's faith to believe every trouble fitted for the being who has to bear it, every physical evil not merely the result of moral evil, but antidotal thereto, no one ought to dare judge of the relation between moral condition and physical suffering in individual cases. Our Lord has warned us from that. But in proportion as love and truth prevail in the hearts of men, physical evil will vanish from the earth. The righteousness of his descendants will destroy the disease which the unrighteousness of their ancestor has transmitted to them. But, I repeat, to destroy this physical evil save by the destruction of its cause, by the redemption of the human nature from moral evil, would be to ruin the world. What in this woman it was that made it right she should bear these bonds for eighteen years, who can tell? Certainly it was not that God had forgotten her. What it may have preserved her from, one may perhaps conjecture, but can hardly have a right to utter. Neither can we tell how she had borne the sad affliction; whether in the lovely patience common amongst the daughters of affliction, or with the natural repining of one made to behold the sun, and doomed ever to regard the ground upon which she trod. While patience would have its glorious reward in the cure, it is possible that even the repinings of prideful pain might be destroyed by the grand deliverance, that gratitude might beget sorrow for vanished impatience. Anyhow the right hour had come when the darkness must fly away. Supported, I presume, by the staff which yet more assimilated her to the lower animals, she had crept to the synagogue--a good sign surely, for the synagogue was not its ruler. There is no appearance from the story, that she had come there to seek Jesus, or even that when in his presence she saw him before the word of her deliverance had gone forth. Most likely, being bowed together, she heard him before she saw him. But he saw her. Our translation says he called her to him. I do not think this is correct. I think the word, although it might mean that, does mean simply that he _addressed her_. Going to her, I think, and saying, "Woman, thou art loosed from thy infirmity," "he laid his hands on her, and immediately she was made straight, and glorified God." What an uplifting!--a type of all that God works in his human beings. The head, down-bent with sin, care, sorrow, pain, is uplifted; the grovelling will sends its gaze heavenward; the earth is no more the one object of the aspiring spirit; we lift our eyes to God; we bend no longer even to his will, but raise ourselves up towards his will, for his will has become our will, and that will is our sanctification. Although the woman did not beg the Son to cure her, she may have prayed the Father much. Anyhow proof that she was ready for the miracle is not wanting. She glorified God. It is enough. She not merely thanked the man who had wrought the cure, for of this we cannot doubt; but she glorified the known Saviour, God, from whom cometh down every good gift and every perfect gift. She had her share in the miracle I think too, as, in his perfect bounty, God gives a share to every one in what work He does for him. I mean, that, with the given power, _she_ had to _lift herself_ up. Such active faith is the needful response in order that a man may be a child of God, and not the mere instrument upon which his power plays a soulless tune. In this preventing of prayer, in this answering before the call, in this bringing of the blessing to the door, according to which I have grouped this with the following miracles, Jesus did as his Father is doing every day. He was doing the works of his Father. If men had no help, no deliverance from the ills which come upon them, even those which they bring upon themselves, except such as came at their cry; if no salvation descended from God, except such as they prayed for, where would the world be? in what case would the generations of men find themselves? But the help of God is ever coming, ever setting them free whom Satan hath bound; ever giving them a fresh occasion and a fresh impulse to glorify the God of their salvation. For with every such recovery the child in the man is new-born--for some precious moments at least; a gentleness of spirit, a wonder at the world, a sense of the blessedness of being, an openness to calm yet rousing influences, appear in the man. These are the descending angels of God. The passion that had blotted out the child will revive; the strife of the world will renew wrath and hate; ambition and greed will blot out the beauty of the earth; envy of others will blind the man to his own blessedness; and self-conceit will revive in him all those prejudices whose very strength lies in his weakness; but the man has had a glimpse of the peace to gain which he must fight with himself; he has for one moment felt what he might be if he trusted in God; and the memory of it may return in the hour of temptation. As the commonest things in nature are the most lovely, so the commonest agencies in humanity are the most powerful. Sickness and recovery therefrom have a larger share in the divine order of things for the deliverance of men than can show itself to the keenest eyes. Isolated in individuals, the facts are unknown; or, slow and obscure in their operation, are forgotten by the time their effects appear. Many things combine to render an enlarged view of the moral influences of sickness and recovery impossible. The kingdom cometh not with observation, and the working of the leaven of its approach must be chiefly unseen. Like the creative energy itself, it works "in secret shadow, far from all men's sight." The teaching of our Lord which immediately follows concerning the small beginnings of his kingdom, symbolized in the grain of mustard seed and the leaven, may, I think, have immediate reference to the cure of this woman, and show that he regarded her glorifying of God for her recovery as one of those beginnings of a mighty growth. We do find the same similes in a different connection in St Matthew and St Mark; but even if we had no instances of fact, it would be rational to suppose that the Lord, in the varieties of place, audience, and occasion, in the dullness likewise of his disciples, and the perfection of the similes he chose, would again and again make use of the same. I now come to the second miracle of the group, namely that, recorded by all the Evangelists except St John, of the cure of the man with the withered hand. This, like the preceding, was done in the synagogue. And I may remark, in passing, that all of this group, with the exception of the last--one of very peculiar circumstance--were performed upon the Sabbath, and each gave rise to discussion concerning the lawfulness of the deed. St Mark says they watched Jesus to see whether he would heal the man on the Sabbath-day; St Luke adds that he knew their thoughts, and therefore met them with the question of its lawfulness; St Matthew says they challenged him to the deed Joy asking him whether it was lawful. The mere watching could hardly have taken place without the man's perceiving something in motion which had to do with him. But there is no indication of a request. There cannot surely be many who have reached half the average life of man without at some time having felt the body a burden in some way, and regarded a possible deliverance from it as an enfranchisement. If the spirit of man were fulfilled of the Spirit of God, the body would simply be a living house, an obedient servant--yes, a humble mediator, by the senses, between his thoughts and God's thoughts; but when every breath has, as it were, to be sent for and brought hither with much labour and small consolation--when pain turns faith into a mere shadow of hope--when the withered limb hangs irresponsive, lost and cumbersome, an inert simulacrum of power, swinging lifeless to and fro;--then even the physical man understands his share in the groaning of the creation after the sonship. When, at a word issuing from such a mouth as that of Jesus of Nazareth, the poor, withered, distorted, contemptible hand obeyed and, responsive to the spirit within, spread forth its fingers, filled with its old human might, became capable once more of the grasp of friendship, of the caress of love, of the labour for the bread that sustains the life, little would the man care that other men--even rulers of synagogues, even Scribes and Pharisees, should question the rectitude of him who had healed him. The power which restored the gift of God and completed humanity, must be of God. Argument upon argument might follow from old books and old customs and learned interpretations, wherein man set forth the will of God as different from the laws of his world, but the man whose hand was restored whole as the other, knew it fitting that his hands should match. They might talk; he would thank God for the crooked made straight. Bewilder his judgment they might with their glosses upon commandment and observance; but they could not keep his heart from gladness; and, being glad, whom should he praise but God? If there was another giver of good things he knew nothing of him. The hand was now as God had meant it to be. Nor could he behold the face of Jesus, and doubt that such a man would do only that which was right. It was not Satan, but God that had set him free. Here, plainly by the record, our Lord gave the man his share, not of mere acquiescence, but of active will, in the miracle. If man is the child of God, he must have a share in the works of the Father. Without such share in the work as faith gives, cure will be of little avail. "Stretch forth thine hand," said the Healer; and the man made the effort; and the withered hand obeyed, and was no more withered. _In_ the act came the cure, without which the act had been confined to the will, and had never taken form in the outstretching. It is the same in all spiritual redemption. Think for a moment with what delight the man would employ his new hand. This right hand would henceforth be God's hand. But was not the other hand God's too?--God's as much as this? Had not the power of God been always present in that left hand, whose unwithered life had ministered to him all these years? Was it not the life of God that inspired his whole frame? By the loss and restoration in one part, he would understand possession in the whole. But as the withered and restored limb to the man, so is the maimed and healed man to his brethren. In every man the power by which he does the commonest things is the power of God. The power is not _of us_. Our power does it; but we do not make the power. This, plain as it is, remains, however, the hardest lesson for a man to learn with conviction and thanksgiving. For God has, as it were, put us just so far away from Him that we can exercise the divine thing in us, our own will, in returning towards our source. Then we shall learn the fact that we are infinitely more great and blessed in being the outcome of a perfect self-constituting will, than we could be by the conversion of any imagined independence of origin into fact for us--a truth no man _can_ understand, feel, or truly acknowledge, save in proportion as he has become one with his perfect origin, the will of God. While opposition exists between the thing made and the maker, there can be but discord and confusion in the judgment of the creature. No true felicitous vision of the facts of the relation between his God and him; no perception of the mighty liberty constituted by the holy dependence wherein the will of God is the absolutely free choice of the man; no perception of a unity such as cannot exist between independent wills, but only in unspeakable love and tenderness between the causing Will and the caused will, can yet have place. Those who cannot see how the human will should be free in dependence upon the will of God, have not realized that the will of God made the will of man; that, when most it pants for freedom, the will of man is the child of the will of God, and therefore that there can be no natural opposition or strife between them. Nay, more, the whole labour of God is that the will of man should be free as his will is free--in the same way that his will is free--by the perfect love of the man for that which is true, harmonious, lawful, creative. If a man say, "But might not the will of God make my will with the intent of over-riding and enslaving it?" I answer, such a Will could not create, could not be God, for it involves the false and contrarious. That would be to make a will in order that it might be no will. To create in order to uncreate is something else than divine. But a free will is not the liberty to do whatever one likes, but the power of doing whatever one sees ought to be done, even in the very face of otherwise overwhelming impulse. There lies freedom indeed. I come now to the case of the man who had been paralysed for eight-and-thirty years. There is great pathos in the story. For many, at least, of these years, the man had haunted the borders of legendary magic, for I regard the statement about the angel troubling the pool as only the expression of a current superstition. Oh, how different from the healing of our Lord! What he had to bestow was free to all. The cure of no man by his hand weakened that hand for the cure of the rest. None were poorer that one was made rich. But this legend of the troubling of the pool fostered the evil passion of emulation, and that in a most selfish kind. Nowhere in the divine arrangements is my gain another's loss. If it be said that this was the mode in which God determined which was to be healed, I answer that the effort necessary was contrary to all we admire most in humanity. According to this rule, Sir Philip Sidney ought to have drunk the water which he handed to the soldier instead. Does the doctrine of Christ, and by that I insist we must interpret the ways of God, countenance a man's hurrying to be before the rest, and gain the boon in virtue t of having the least need of it, inasmuch as he was the ablest to run and plunge first into the eddies left by the fantastic angel? Or if the triumph were to be gained by the help of friends, surely he was in most need of the cure who like this man--a man such as we hope there are few--had no friends either to plunge him in the waters of fabled hope, or to comfort him in the seasons of disappointment which alone divided the weary months of a life passed in empty expectation. But the Master comes near. In him the power of life rests as in "its own calm home, its crystal shrine," and he that believeth in him shall not need to make haste. He knew it was time this man should be healed, and did not wait to be asked. Indeed the man did not know him; did not even know his name. "Wilt thou be made whole?" "Sir, I have no man, when the water is troubled, to put me into the pool: but while I am coming, another steppeth down before me." "Rise, take up thy bed, and walk." Our Lord delays the cure in this case with no further speech. The man knows nothing about him, and he makes no demand upon his faith, except that of obedience. He gives him something to do at once. He will find him again by and by. The man obeys, takes up his bed, and walks. He sets an open path before us; _we_ must walk in it. More, we must be willing to believe that the path is open, that we have strength to walk in it. God's gift glides into man's choice. It is needful that we should follow with our effort in the track of his foregoing power. To refuse is to destroy the gift. His cure is not for such as choose to be invalids. They must be willing to be made whole, even if it should involve the carrying of their beds and walking. Some keep in bed who have strength enough to get up and walk. There is a self-care and a self-pity, a laziness and conceit of incapacity, which are as unhealing for the body as they are unhealthy in the mind, corrupting all dignity and destroying all sympathy. Who but invalids need like miracles wrought in them? Yet some invalids are not cured because they will not be healed. They will not stretch out the hand; they will not rise; they will not walk; above all things, they will not work. Yet for their illness it may be that the work so detested is the only cure, or if no cure yet the best amelioration. Labour is not in itself an evil like the sickness, but often a divine, a blissful remedy. Nor is the duty or the advantage confined to those who ought to labour for their own support. No amount of wealth sets one free from the obligation to work--in a world the God of which is ever working. He who works not has not yet discovered what God made him for, and is a false note in the orchestra of the universe. The possession of wealth is as it were pre-payment, and involves an obligation of honour to the doing of correspondent work. He who does not know what to do has never seriously asked himself what he ought to do. But there is a class of persons, the very opposite of these, who, as extremes meet, fall into a similar fault. They will not be healed either. They will not take the repose in which God giveth to his beloved. Some sicknesses are to be cured with rest, others with labour. The right way is all--to meet the sickness as God would have it met, to submit or to resist according to the conditions of cure. Whatsoever is not of faith is sin; and she who will not go to her couch and rest in the Lord, is to blame even as she who will not rise and go to her work. There is reason to suppose that this man had brought his infirmity upon himself--I do not mean by the mere neglect of physical laws, but by the doing of what he knew to be wrong. For the Lord, although he allowed the gladness of the deliverance full sway at first, when he found him afterwards did not leave him without the lesson that all health and well-being depend upon purity of life: "Behold, thou art made whole: sin no more lest a worse thing come unto thee." It is the only case of recorded cure in which Jesus gives a warning of the kind. Therefore I think the probability is as I have stated it. Hence, the fact that we may be ourselves to blame for our sufferings is no reason why we should not go to God to deliver us from them. David the king knew this, and set it forth in that grand poem, the 107th Psalm. In the very next case we find that Jesus will not admit the cause of the man's condition, blindness from his birth, to be the sin either of the man himself, or of his parents. The probability seems, to judge from their behaviour in the persecution that followed, that both the man and his parents were people of character, thought, and honourable prudence. He was born blind, Jesus said, "that the works of God should be made manifest in him." What works, then? The work of creation for one, rather than the work of healing. The man had suffered nothing in being born blind. God had made him only not so blessed as his fellows, with the intent of giving him equal faculty and even greater enjoyment afterwards, with the honour of being employed for the revelation of his works to men. In him Jesus created sight before men's eyes. For, as at the first God said, "Let there be light," so the work of God is still to give light to the world, and Jesus must work his work, and _be_ the light of the world--light in all its degrees and kinds, reaching into every corner where work may be done, arousing sleepy hearts, and opening blind eyes. Jesus saw the man, the disciples asked their question, and he had no sooner answered it, than "he spat on the ground, made clay of the spittle, and anointed the eyes of the blind man with the clay."--Why this mediating clay? Why the spittle and the touch?--Because the man who could not see him must yet be brought into sensible contact with him--must know that the healing came from the man who touched him. Our Lord took pains about it because the man was blind. And for the man's share in the miracle, having blinded him a second time as it were with clay, he sends him to the pool to wash it away: clay and blindness should depart together by the act of the man's faith. It was as if the Lord said, "I blinded thee: now, go and see." Here, then, are the links of the chain by which the Lord bound the man to himself. The voice, if heard by the man, which defended him and his parents from the judgment of his disciples; the assertion that he was the light of the world--a something which others had and the blind man only knew as not possessed by him; the sound of the spitting on the ground; the touch of the speaker's fingers; the clay on his eyes; the command to wash; the journey to the pool; the laving water; the astonished sight. "He went his way, therefore, and washed, and came seeing." But who can imagine, save in a conception only less dim than the man's blindness, the glory which burst upon him when, as the restoring clay left his eyes, the light of the world invaded his astonished soul? The very idea may well make one tremble. Blackness of darkness--not an invading stranger, but the home-companion always there--the negation never understood because the assertion was unknown--creation not erased and treasured in the memory, but to his eyes uncreated!--Blackness of darkness!.... The glory of the celestial blue! The towers of the great Jerusalem dwelling in the awful space! The room! The life! The tenfold-glorified being! Any wonder might follow on such a wonder. And the whole vision was as fresh as if he had that moment been created, the first of men. But the best remained behind. A man had said, "I am the light of the world," and lo! here was the light of the world. The words had been vague as a dark form in darkness, but now the thing itself had invaded his innermost soul. But the face of the man who was this light of the world he had not seen. The creator of his vision he had not yet beheld. But he believed in him, for he defended him from the same charge of wickedness from which Jesus had defended him. "Give God the praise," they said; "we know that this man is a sinner." "God heareth not sinners," he replied; "and this man hath opened my eyes." It is no wonder that when Jesus found him and asked him, "Dost thou believe on the Son of God?" he should reply, "Who is he, Lord, that I might believe on him?" He was ready. He had only to know which was he, that he might worship him. Here at length was the Light of the world before him--the man who had said, "I am the light of the world," and straightway the world burst upon him in light! Would this man ever need further proof that there was indeed a God of men? I suspect he had a grander idea of the Son of God than any of his disciples as yet. The would-be refutations of experience, for "since the world began was it not heard that any man opened the eyes of one that was born blind;" the objections of the religious authorities, "This man is not of God, because he keepeth not the Sabbath day;" endless possible perplexities of the understanding, and questions of the _how_ and the _why_, could never touch that man to the shaking of his confidence: "One thing I know, that whereas I was blind, now I see." The man could not convince the Jews that Jesus must be a good man; neither could he doubt it himself, whose very being, body and soul and spirit, had been enlightened and glorified by him. With light in the eyes, in the brain, in the heart, light permeating and unifying his physical and moral nature, asserting itself in showing the man to himself one whole--how could he doubt! The miracles were for the persons on whom they passed. To the spectators they were something, it is true; but they were of unspeakable value to, and of endless influence upon their subjects. The true mode in which they reached others was through the healed themselves. And the testimony of their lives would go far beyond the testimony of their tongues. Their tongues could but witness to a fact; their lives could witness to a truth. In this miracle as in all the rest, Jesus did in little the great work of the Father; for how many more are they to whom God has given the marvel of vision than those blind whom the Lord enlightened! The remark will sound feeble and far-fetched to the man whose familiar spirit is that Mephistopheles of the commonplace. He who uses his vision only for the care of his body or the indulgence of his mind--how should he understand the gift of God in its marvel? But the man upon whose soul the grandeur and glory of the heavens and the earth and the sea and the fountains of waters have once arisen will understand what a divine _invention_, what a mighty gift of God is this very common thing--these eyes to see with--that light which enlightens the world, this sight which is the result of both. He will understand what a believer the man born blind must have become, yea, how the mighty inburst of splendour might render him so capable of believing that nothing should be too grand and good for him to believe thereafter--not even the doctrine hardest to commonplace humanity, though the most natural and reasonable to those who have beheld it--that the God of the light is a faithful, loving, upright, honest, and self-denying being, yea utterly devoted to the uttermost good of those whom he has made. Such is the Father of lights who enlightens the world and every man that cometh into it. Every pulsation of light on every brain is from him. Every feeling of law and order is from him. Every hint of right, every desire after the true, whatever we call aspiration, all longing for the light, every perception that this is true, that that ought to be done, is from the Father of lights. His infinite and varied light gathered into one point--for how shall we speak at all of these things if we do not speak in figures?--concentrated and embodied in Jesus, became _the_ light of the world. For the light is no longer only diffused, but in him man "beholds the light _and whence it flows_." Not merely is our chamber enlightened, but we see the lamp. And so we turn again to God, the Father of lights, yea even of The Light of the World. Henceforth we know that all the light wherever diffused has its centre in God, as the light that enlightened the blind man flowed from its centre in Jesus. In other words, we have a glimmering, faint, human perception of the absolute glory. We know what God is in recognizing him as our God. Jesus did the works of the Father. The next miracle--recorded by St Luke alone--is the cure of the man with the dropsy, wrought also upon the Sabbath, but in the house of one of the chief of the Pharisees. Thither our Lord had gone to an entertainment, apparently large, for the following parable is spoken "to those which were bidden, when he marked how they chose out the chief rooms." [Footnote: 1. Not _rooms_, but _reclining places_ at the table.] Hence the possibility at least is suggested, that the man was one of the guests. No doubt their houses were more accessible than ours, and it was not difficult for one uninvited to make his way in, especially upon occasion of such a gathering. But I think the word translated _before him_ means _opposite to him_ at the table; and that the man was not too ill to appear as a guest. The "took him and healed him and let him go," of our translation, is against the notion rather, but merely from its indefiniteness being capable of meaning that he sent him away; but such is not the meaning of the original. That merely implies that he _took him_, went to him and laid his hands upon him, thus connecting the cure with himself, and then released him, set him free, took his hands off him, turning at once to the other guests and justifying himself by appealing to their own righteous conduct towards the ass and the ox. I think the man remained reclining at the table, to enjoy the appetite of health at a good meal; if, indeed, the gladness of the relieved breath, the sense of lightness and strength, the consciousness of a restored obedience of body, not to speak of the presence of him who had cured him, did not make him too happy to care about his dinner. I come now to the last of the group, exceptional in its nature, inasmuch as it was not the curing of a disease or natural defect, but the reparation of an injury, or hurt at least, inflicted by one of his own followers. This miracle also is recorded by St Luke alone. The other evangelists relate the occasion of the miracle, but not the miracle itself; they record the blow, but not the touch. I shall not, therefore, compare their accounts, which have considerable variety, but no inconsistency. I shall confine myself to the story as told by St Luke. Peter, intending, doubtless, to cleave the head of a servant of the high priest who had come out to take Jesus, with unaccustomed hand, probably trembling with rage and perhaps with fear, missed his well-meant aim, and only cut off the man's ear. Jesus said, "Suffer ye thus far." I think the words should have a point of interrogation after them, to mean, "Is it thus far ye suffer?" "Is this the limit of your patience?" but I do not know. With the words, "he touched his ear and healed him." Hardly had the wound reached the true sting of its pain, before the gentle hand of him whom the servant had come to drag to the torture, dismissed the agony as if it had never been. Whether he restored the ear, or left the loss of it for a reminder to the man of the part he had taken against his Lord, and the return the Lord had made him, we do not know. Neither do we know whether he turned back ashamed and contrite, now that in his own person he had felt the life that dwelt in Jesus, or followed out the capture to the end. Possibly the blow of Peter was the form which the favour of God took, preparing the way, like the blindness from the birth, for the glory that was to be manifested in him. But the Lord would countenance no violence done in his defence. They might do to him as they would. If his Father would not defend him, neither would he defend himself. Within sight of the fearful death that awaited him, his heart was no whit hardened to the pain of another. Neither did it make any difference that it was the pain of an enemy--even an enemy who was taking him to the cross. There was suffering; here was healing. He came to do the works of him that sent him. He did good to them that hated him, for his Father is the Saviour of men, saving "them out of their distresses." V. MIRACLES OF HEALING SOLICITED BY THE SUFFERERS. I come now to the second group of miracles, those granted to the prayers of the sufferers. But before I make any general remarks on the speciality of these, I must speak of one case which appears to lie between the preceding group and this. It is that of the woman who came behind Jesus in the crowd; and involves peculiar difficulties, in connection with the facts which render its classification uncertain. At Capernaum, apparently, our Lord was upon his way with Jairus to visit his daughter, accompanied by a crowd of people who had heard the request of the ruler of the synagogue. A woman who had been ill for twelve years, came behind him and touched the hem of his garment. This we may regard as a prayer in so far as she came to him, saying "within herself, If I may but touch his garment, I shall be whole." But, on the other hand, it was no true prayer in as far as she expected to be healed without the knowledge and will of the healer. Although she came to him, she did not ask him to heal her. She thought with innocent theft to steal from him a cure. What follows according to St Matthew's account, occasions me no difficulty. He does not say that the woman was cured by the touch; he says nothing of her cure until Jesus had turned and seen her, and spoken the word to her, whereupon he adds: "And the woman was made whole from that hour." But St Mark and St Luke represent that the woman was cured upon the touch, and that the cure was only confirmed afterwards by the words of our Lord. They likewise represent Jesus as ignorant of what had taken place, except in so far as he knew that, without his volition, some cure had been wrought by contact with his person, of which he was aware by the passing from him of a saving influence. By this, in the heart of a crowd which pressed upon him so that many must have come into bodily contact with him, he knew that some one had touched him with special intent. No perplexity arises from the difference between the accounts, for there is only difference, not incongruity: the two tell more than the one; it is from the nature of the added circumstances that it springs, for those circumstances necessarily involve inquiries of the most difficult nature. Nor can I in the least pretend to have satisfied myself concerning them. In the first place comes the mode of the cure, which _seems_ at first sight (dissociated, observe, from the will of the healer) to partake of the nature of magic--an influence without a sufficient origin. Not for a moment would I therefore yield to an inclination to reject the testimony. I have no right to do so, for it deals with circumstances concerning which my ignorance is all but complete. I cannot rest, however, without seeking to come into some spiritual relation with the narrative, that is, to find some credible supposition upon which, without derogating from the lustre of the object of the whole history, the thing might take place. The difficulty, I repeat, is, that the woman could be cured by the garment of Jesus, without (not against) the will of Jesus. I think that the whole difficulty arises from our ignorance--a helpless ignorance--of the relations of thought and matter. I use the word _thought_ rather than spirit, because in reflecting upon spirit (which is thought), people generally represent to themselves a vague form of matter. All religion is founded on the belief or instinct--call it what we will--that matter is the result of mind, spirit, thought. The relation between them is therefore simply too close, too near for us to understand. Here is what I am able to suggest concerning the account of the miracle as given by St Mark and St Luke. If even in what we call inanimate things there lies a healing power in various kinds; if, as is not absurd, there may lie in the world absolute cure existing in analysis, that is parted into a thousand kinds and forms, who can tell what cure may lie in a perfect body, informed, yea, caused, by a perfect spirit? If stones and plants can heal by the will of God in them, might there not dwell in the perfect health of a body, in which dwelt the Son of God, a necessarily healing power? It may seem that in the fact of the many crowding about him, concerning whom we have no testimony of influence received, there lies a refutation of his supposition. But who can tell what he may have done even for them without their recognizing it save in conscious well-being? Besides, those who crowded nearest him would mostly be of the strongest who were least in need of a physician, and in whose being consequently there lay not that bare open channel hungering for the precious life-current. And who can tell how the faith of the heart, calming or arousing the whole nature, may have rendered the very person of the woman more fit than the persons of others in the crowd to receive the sacred influence? For although she did not pray, she had the faith as alive though as small as the mustard seed. Why might not health from the fountain of health flow then into the empty channel of the woman's weakness? It may have been so. I shrink from the subject, I confess, because of the vulgar forms such speculations have assumed in our days, especially in the hands of those who savour unspeakably more of the charlatan than the prophet. Still, one must be honest and truthful even in regard to what he has to distinguish, as he can, into probable and impossible. Fact is not the sole legitimate object of human inquiry. If it were, farewell to all that elevates and glorifies human nature--farewell to God, to religion, to hope! It is that which lies at the root of fact, yea, at the root of law, after which the human soul hungers and longs. In the preceding remarks I have anticipated a chapter to follow--a chapter of speculation, which may God make humble and right. But some remark was needful here. What must be to some a far greater difficulty has yet to be considered. It is the representation of the Lord's ignorance of the cure, save from the reaction upon his own person of the influence which went out from him to fill that vacuum of suffering which the divine nature abhors: he did not know that his body was about to radiate health. But this gives me no concern. Our Lord himself tells us in one case, at least, that he did not know, that only his Father knew. He could discern a necessary result in the future, but not the day or the hour thereof. Omniscience is a consequence, not an essential of the divine nature. God knows because he creates. The Father knows because he orders. The Son knows because he obeys. The knowledge of the Father must be perfect; such knowledge the Son neither needs nor desires. His sole care is to do the will of the Father. Herein lies his essential divinity. Although he knew that one of his apostles should betray him, I doubt much whether, when he chose Judas, he knew that he was that one. We must take his own words as true. Not only does he not claim perfect knowledge, but he disclaims it. He speaks once, at least, to his Father with an _if it be possible_. Those who believe omniscience essential to divinity, will therefore be driven to say that Christ was not divine. This will be their punishment for placing knowledge on a level with love. No one who does so can worship in spirit and in truth, can lift up his heart in pure adoration. He will suppose he does, but his heaven will be in the clouds, not in the sky. But now we come to the holy of holies of the story--the divinest of its divinity. Jesus could not leave the woman with the half of a gift. He could not let her away so poor. She had stolen the half: she must fetch the other half--come and take it from his hand. That is, she must know who had healed her. Her will and his must come together; and for this her eyes and his, her voice and his ears, her ears and his voice must meet. It is the only case recorded in which he says _Daughter_. It could not have been because she was younger than himself; there could not have been much difference between their ages in that direction. Let us see what lies in the word. With the modesty belonging to her as a woman, intensified by the painful shrinking which had its origin in the peculiar nature of her suffering, she dared not present herself to the eyes of the Lord, but thought merely to gather from under his table a crumb unseen. And I do not believe that our Lord in calling her had any desire to make her tell her tale of grief, and, in her eyes, of shame. It would have been enough to him if she had come and stood before him, and said nothing. Nor had she to appear before his face with only that poor remnant of strength which had sufficed to bring her to the hem of his garment behind him; for now she knew in herself that she was healed of her plague, and the consciousness must have been strength. Yet she trembled when she came. Filled with awe and gratitude, she could not stand before him; she fell down at his feet. There, hiding her face in her hands, I presume, she forgot the surrounding multitude, and was alone in the chamber of her consciousness with the Son of Man. Her love, her gratitude, her holy awe unite in an impulse to tell him all. When the lower approaches the higher in love, even between men, the longing is to be known; the prayer is "Know me." This was David's prayer to God, "Search me and know me." There should be no more concealment. Besides, painful as it was to her to speak, he had a right to know all, and know it he should. It was her sacrifice offered unto the Lord. She told him all the truth. To conceal anything from him now would be greater pain than to tell all, for the thing concealed would be as a barrier between him and her; she would be simple--one-fold; her whole being should lie open before him. I do not for a moment mean that such thoughts, not to say words, took shape in her mind; but sometimes we can represent a single consciousness only by analysing it into twenty thoughts. And he accepted the offering. He let her speak, and tell all. But it was painful. He understood it well. His heart yearned towards the woman to shield her from her own innocent shame, to make as it were a heaven about her whose radiance should render it "by clarity invisible." Her story appealed to all that was tenderest in humanity; for the secret which her modesty had hidden, her conscience had spoken aloud. Therefore the tenderest word that the language could afford must be hers. "Daughter," he said. It was the fullest reward, the richest acknowledgment he could find of the honour in which he held her, his satisfaction with her conduct, and the perfect love he bore her. The degrading spirit of which I have spoken, the spirit of the commonplace, which lowers everything to the level of its own capacity of belief, will say that the word was an eastern mode in more common use than with us. I say that whatever Jesus did or said, he did and said like other men--he did and said as no other man did or said. If he said _Daughter_, it meant what any man would mean by it; it meant what no man could mean by it--what no man was good enough, great enough, loving enough to mean by it. In him the Father spoke to this one the eternal truth of his relation to all his daughters, to all the women he has made, though individually it can be heard only by those who lift up the filial eyes, lay bare the filial heart. He did the works, he spoke the words of him that sent him. Well might this woman, if she dared not lift the downcast eye before the men present, yet depart in shameless peace: he who had healed her had called her _Daughter_. Everything on earth is paltry before such a word. It was the deepest gift of the divine nature--the recognition of the eternal in her by him who had made it. Between the true father and the true daughter nothing is painful. I think also that very possibly some compunction arose in her mind, the moment she knew herself healed, at the mode in which she had gained her cure. Hence when the Lord called her she may have thought he was offended with her because of it. Possibly her contrition for the little fault, if fault indeed it was, may have increased the agony of feeling with which she forced rather than poured out her confession. But he soothes her with gentle, consoling, restoring words: "Be of good comfort." He heals the shy suffering spirit, "wherein old dints of deep wounds did remain." He confirms the cure she feared perhaps might be taken from her again. "Go in peace, and be whole of thy plague." Nay, more, he attributes her cure to her own faith. "Thy faith hath made thee whole." What wealth of tenderness! She must not be left in her ignorance to the danger of associating power with the mere garment of the divine. She must be brought face to face with her healer. She must not be left kneeling on the outer threshold of the temple. She must be taken to the heart of the Saviour, and so redeemed, then only redeemed utterly. There is no word, no backward look of reproach upon the thing she had condemned. If it was evil it was gone from between them for ever. Confessed, it vanished. Her faith was an ignorant faith, but, however obscured in her consciousness, it was a true faith. She believed in the man, and our Lord loved the modesty that kept her from pressing into his presence. It may indeed have been the very strength of her faith working in her ignorance that caused her to extend his power even to the skirts of his garments. And there he met the ignorance, not with rebuke, but with the more grace. If even her ignorance was so full of faith, of what mighty confidence was she not capable! Even the skirt of his garment would minister to such a faith. It should be as she would. Through the garment of his Son, the Father would cure her who believed enough to put forth her hand and touch it. The kernel-faith was none the worse that it was closed in the uncomely shell of ignorance and mistake. The Lord was satisfied with it. When did he ever quench the smoking flax? See how he praises her. He is never slow to commend. The first quiver of the upturning eyelid is to him faith. He welcomes the sign, and acknowledges it; commends the feeblest faith in the ignorant soul, rebukes it as little only in apostolic souls where it ought to be greater. "Thy faith hath saved thee." However poor it was, it was enough for that. Between death and the least movement of life there is a gulf wider than that fixed between the gates of heaven and the depths of hell. He said "_Daughter_." I come now to the first instance of plain request--that of the leper who fell down before him, saying, "Lord, if thou wilt, thou canst make me clean"--a prayer lovely in the simplicity of its human pleading--appeal to the power which lay in the man to whom he spoke: his power was the man's claim; the relation between them was of the strongest--that between plenty and need, between strength and weakness, between health and disease--poor bonds comparatively between man and man, for man's plenty, strength, and health can only supplement, not satisfy the need; support the weakness, not change it into strength; mitigate the disease of his fellow, not slay it with invading life; but in regard to God, all whose power is creative, any necessity of his creatures is a perfect bond between them and him; his magnificence must flow into the channels of the indigence he has created. Observe how Jesus responds in the terms of the man's request. The woman found the healing where she sought it--in the hem of his garment. One man says, "Come with me;" the Lord goes. Another says, "Come not under my roof, I am not worthy;" the Lord remains. Here the man says, "If thou wilt;" the Lord answers, "I will." But he goes far beyond the man's request. I need say nothing of the grievous complaint under which he laboured. It was sore to the mind as well as the body, for it made of the man an outcast and ashamed. No one would come near him lest he should share his condemnation. Physical evil had, as it were, come to the surface in him. He was "full of leprosy." Men shrink more from skin-diseases than from any other.[2] [Footnote 2: And they are amongst the hardest to cure; just as the skin-diseases of the soul linger long after the heart is greatly cured. Witness the petulance, fastidiousness, censoriousness, social self-assertion, general disagreeableness of so many good people--all in the moral skin--repulsive exceedingly. I say good people; I do not say _very good_, nor do I say Christ-_like_, for that they are not.] Jesus could have cured him with a word. There was no need he should touch him. _No need_ did I say? There was every need. For no one else would touch him. The healthy human hand, always more or less healing, was never laid on him; he was despised and rejected. It was a poor thing for the Lord to cure his body; he must comfort and cure his sore heart. Of all men a leper, I say, needed to be touched with the hand of love. Spenser says, "Entire affection hateth nicer hands." It was not for our master, our brother, our ideal man, to draw around him the skirts of his garments and speak a lofty word of healing, that the man might at least be clean before he touched him. The man was his brother, and an evil disease cleaved fast unto him. Out went the loving hand to the ugly skin, and there was his brother as he should be--with the flesh of a child. I thank God that the touch went before the word. Nor do I think it was the touch of a finger, or of the finger-tips. It was a kindly healing touch in its nature as in its power. Oh blessed leper! thou knowest henceforth what kind of a God there is in the earth--not the God of the priests, but a God such as himself only can reveal to the hearts of his own. That touch was more than the healing. It was to the leper what the word _Daughter_ was to the woman in the crowd, what the _Neither do I_ was to the woman in the temple--the sign of the perfect presence. Outer and inner are one with him: the outermost sign is the revelation of the innermost heart. Let me linger one moment upon this coming together of creative health and destroying disease. The health must flow forth; the disease could not enter: Jesus was not defiled by the touch. Not that even if he would have been, he would have shrunk and refrained; he respected the human body in most evil case, and thus he acknowledged it his own. But my reader must call up for himself the analogies--only I cannot admit that they are mere analogies--between the cure of the body and the cure of the soul: here they were combined in one act, for that touch went to the man's heart. I can only hint at them here. Hand to hand is enough for the cure of the bodily disease; but heart to heart will Jesus visit the man who in deepest defilement of evil habits, yet lifts to him a despairing cry. The healthful heart of the Lord will cure the heart spotted with the plague: it will come again as the heart of a child. _Only this kind goeth not out save by prayer and abstinence_. The Lord gave him something to do at once, and something not to do. He was to go to the priest, and to hold his tongue. It is easier to do than to abstain; he went to the priest; he did not hold his tongue. That the Lord should send him to the priest requires no explanation. The sacred customs of his country our Lord in his own person constantly recognized. That he saw in them more than the priests themselves was no reason for passing them by. The testimony which he wished the man to bear concerning him lay in the offering of the gift which Moses had commanded. His healing was in harmony with all the forms of the ancient law; for it came from the same source, and would in the lapse of ages complete what the law had but begun. This the man was to manifest for him. The only other thing he required of him--silence--the man would not, at least did not, yield. The probability is that he needed the injunction for his own sake more than for the master's sake; that he was a talkative, demonstrative man, whose better life was ever in danger of evaporating in words; and that the Lord required silence of him, that he might think, and give the seed time to root itself well before it shot its leaves out into the world. Are there not some in our own day, who, having had a glimpse of truth across the darkness of a moral leprosy, instantly begin to blaze abroad the matter, as if it were their part at once to call to their fellows, and teach them out of an intellectual twilight, in which they can as yet see men only as trees walking, instead of retiring into the wilderness, for a time at least, to commune with their own hearts, and be still? But he meant well, nor is it any wonder that such a man should be incapable of such a sacrifice. The Lord had touched him. His nature was all in commotion with gratitude. His self-conceit swelled high. His tongue would not be still. Perhaps he judged himself a leper favoured above his fellow-lepers. Nothing would more tend to talkativeness than such a selfish mistake. He would be grateful. He would befriend his healer against his will. He would work for him--alas! only to impede the labours of the Wise; for the Lord found his popularity a great obstacle to the only success he sought. "He went out and began to blaze abroad the matter, insomuch that Jesus could no more openly enter into the city." His nature could not yet understand the kingdom that cometh not with observation, and from presumption mingled with affection, he would serve the Lord after a better fashion than that of doing his will. And he had his reward. He had his share in bringing his healer to the cross. Obedience is the only service. * * * * * I take now the cure of the ten lepers, done apparently in a village of Galilee towards Samaria. They stood afar off in a group, probably afraid of offending him by any nearer approach, and cried aloud, "Jesus, Master, have mercy on us." Instead of at once uttering their cure, he desired them to go and show themselves to the priests. This may have been partly for the sake of the priests, partly perhaps for the justification of his own mission, but more certainly for the sake of the men themselves, that he might, in accordance with his frequent practice, give them something wherein to be obedient. It served also, as the sequel shows, to individualize their relation to him. The relation as a group was not sufficient for the men. Between him and them it must be the relation of man to man. Individual faith must, as it were, break up the group--to favour a far deeper reunion. Its bond was now a common suffering; it must be changed to a common faith in the healer of it. His intention wrought in them--at first with but small apparent result. They obeyed, and went to go to the priests, probably wondering whether they would be healed or not, for the beginnings of faith are so small that they can hardly be recognized as such. Going, they found themselves cured. Nine of them held on their way, obedient; while the tenth, forgetting for the moment in his gratitude the word of the Master, turned back and fell at his feet. A moral martinet, a scribe, or a Pharisee, might have said "The nine were right, the tenth was wrong: he ought to have kept to the letter of the command." Not so the Master: he accepted the gratitude as the germ of an infinite obedience. Real love is obedience and all things beside. The Lord's own devotion was that which burns up the letter with the consuming fire of love, fulfilling and setting it aside. High love needs no letter to guide it. Doubtless the letter is all that weak faith is capable of, and it is well for those who keep it! But it is ill for those who do not outgrow and forget it! Forget it, I say, _by outgrowing it_. The Lord cared little for the letter of his own commands; he cared all for the spirit, for that was life. This man was a stranger, as the Jews called him, a Samaritan. Therefore the Lord praised him to his followers. It was as if he had said, "See, Jews, who think yourselves the great praisers of God! here are ten lepers cleansed: where are the nine? One comes back to glorify God--a Samaritan!" To the man himself he says, "Arise, go thy way; thy faith hath made thee whole." Again this commending of individual faith! "Was it not the faith of the others too that had healed them?" Doubtless. If they had had enough to bring them back, he would have told them that their faith had saved them. But they were content to be healed, and until their love, which is the deeper faith, brought them to the Master's feet, their faith was not ripe for praise. But it was not for their blame, it was for the Samaritan's praise that he spoke. Probably this man's faith had caused the cry of all the ten; probably he was the salt of the little group of outcasts--the tenth, the righteous man. Hence they were contented, for the time, with their cure: he forgot the cure itself in his gratitude. A moment more, and with obedient feet he would overtake them on their way to the priest. I may not find a better place for remarking on the variety of our Lord's treatment of those whom he cured; that is, the variety of the form in which he conveyed the cure. In the record I do not think we find two cases treated in the same manner. There is no massing of the people with him. In his behaviour to men, just as in their relation to his Father, every man is alone with him. In this case of the ten, as I have said, I think he sent them away, partly, that this individuality might have an opportunity of asserting itself. They had stood afar off, therefore he could not lay the hand of love on each. But now one left the group and brought his gratitude to the Master's feet, and with a loud voice glorified God the Healer. In reflecting then on the details of the various cures we must seek the causes of their diversity mainly in the individual differences of the persons cured, not forgetting, at the same time, that all the accounts are brief, and that our capacity is poor for the task. The whole divine treatment of man is that of a father to his children--only a father infinitely more a father than any man can be. Before him stands each, as much an individual child as if there were no one but him. The relation is awful in its singleness. Even when God deals with a nation as a nation, it is only as by this dealing the individual is aroused to a sense of his own wrong, that he can understand how the nation has sinned, or can turn himself to work a change. The nation cannot change save as its members change; and the few who begin the change are the elect of that nation. Ten righteous individuals would have been just enough to restore life to the festering masses of Sodom--festering masses because individual life had ceased, and the nation or community was nowhere. Even nine could not do it: Sodom must perish. The individuals must perish now; the nation had perished long since. All communities are for the divine sake of individual life, for the sake of the love and truth that is in each heart, and is not cumulative--cannot be in two as one result. But all that is precious in the individual heart depends for existence on the relation the individual bears to other individuals: alone--how can he love? alone--where is his truth? It is for and by the individuals that the individual lives. A community is the true development of individual relations. Its very possibility lies in the conscience of its men and women. No setting right can be done in the _mass_. There are no masses save in corruption. Vital organizations result alone from individualities and consequent necessities, which fitting the one into the other, and working for each other, make combination not only possible but unavoidable. Then the truth which has _informed_ in the community reacts on the individual to perfect his individuality. In a word, the man, in virtue of standing alone in God, stands _with_ his fellows, and receives from them divine influences without which he cannot be made perfect. It is in virtue of the living consciences of its individuals that a common conscience is possible to a nation. I cannot work this out here, but I would avoid being misunderstood. Although I say, every man stands alone in God, I yet say two or many can meet in God as they cannot meet save in God; nay, that only in God can two or many truly meet; only as they recognize their oneness with God can they become one with each other. In the variety then of his individual treatment of the sick, Jesus did the works of his Father _as_ his Father does them. For the Spirit of God speaks to the spirit of the man, and the Providence of God arranges everything for the best good of the individual--counting the very hairs of his head. Every man had a cure of his own; every woman had a cure of her own--all one and the same in principle, each individual in the application of the principle. This was the foundation of the true church. And yet the members of that church will try to separate upon individual and unavoidable differences! But once more the question recurs: Why say so often that this and that one's faith had saved him? Was it not enough that he had saved them?--Our Lord would knit the bond between him and each man by arousing the man's individuality, which is, in deepest fact, his conscience. The cure of a man depended upon no uncertain or arbitrary movement of the feelings of Jesus. He was always ready to heal. No one was ever refused who asked him. It rested with the man: the healing could not have its way and enter in, save the man would open his door. It was there for him if he would take it, or rather when he would allow him to bestow it. Hence the question and the praise of the patient's faith. There was no danger then of that diseased self-consciousness which nowadays is always asking, "Have I faith? Have I faith?" searching, in fact, for grounds of self-confidence, and turning away the eyes in the search from the only source whence confidence can flow--the natal home of power and love. How shall faith be born but of the beholding of the faithful? This diseased self-contemplation was not indeed a Jewish complaint at all, nor possible in the bodily presence of the Master. Hence the praise given to a man's faith could not hurt him; it only made him glad and more faithful still. This disease itself is in more need of his curing hand than all the leprosies of Judaea and Samaria. The cases which remain of this group are of blind men--the first, that recorded by St Matthew of the two who followed Jesus, crying, "Thou Son of David, have mercy on us." He asked them if they believed that he was able to do the thing for them, drawing, I say, the bond between them closer thereby. They said they did believe it, and at once he touched their eyes--again the bodily contact, as in the case of the blind man already considered--especially needful in the case of the blind, to associate the healing with the healer. But there are differences between the cases. The man who had not asked to be healed was as it were put through a longer process of cure--I think that his faith and his will might be called into exercise; and the bodily contact was made closer to help the development of his faith and will: he made clay and put it on his eyes, and the man had to go and wash. Where the prayer and the confession of faith reveal the spiritual contact already effected, the cure is immediate. "According to your faith," the Lord said, "be it unto you." On these men, as on the leper, he laid the charge of silence, by them, as by him, sadly disregarded. The fact that he went into the house, and allowed them to follow him there before he cured them, also shows that he desired in their case, doubtless because of circumstances, to avoid publicity, a desire which they foiled. Their gladness overcame, if not their gratitude, yet the higher faith that is one with obedience. When the other leper turned back to speak his gratitude, it was but the delay of a moment in the fulfilling of the command. But the gratitude that disobeys an injunction, that does what the man is told not to do, and so plunges into the irretrievable, is a virtue that needs a development amounting almost to a metamorphosis. In the one remaining case there is a slight confusion in the records. St Luke says that it was performed as Jesus entered into Jericho; St Mark says it was as he went out of Jericho, and gives the name and parentage of the blind beggar; indeed his account is considerably more minute than that of the others. St Matthew agrees with St Mark as to the occasion, but says there were two blind men. We shall follow the account of St Mark. Bartimaeus, having learned the cause of the tumultuous passing of feet, calls, like those former two blind men, upon the Son of David to have mercy on him.[3] [Footnote 3: In these two cases, the cry is upon the _Son of David_: I wonder if this had come to be considered by the blind the correct formula of address to the new prophet. But the cases are almost too few to justify even a passing conjecture at generalization.] The multitude finds fault with his crying and calling. I presume he was noisy in his eagerness after his vanished vision, and the multitude considered it indecorous. Or perhaps the rebuke arose from that common resentment of a crowd against any one who makes himself what they consider unreasonably conspicuous, claiming a share in the attention of the potentate to which they cannot themselves pretend. But the Lord stops, and tells them to call the man; and some of them, either being his friends, or changing their tone when the great man takes notice of him, begin to congratulate and comfort him. He, casting away his garment in his eagerness, rises, and is led through the yielding crowd to the presence of the Lord. To enter in some degree into the personal knowledge of the man before curing him, and to consolidate his faith, Jesus, the tones of whose voice, full of the life of God, the cultivated hearing of a blind man would be best able to interpret, began to talk a little with him. "What wilt thou that I should do unto thee?" "Lord, that I might receive my sight." "Go thy way; thy faith hath made thee whole." Immediately he saw; and the first use he made of his sight was to follow him who had given it. Neither St Mark nor St Luke, whose accounts are almost exactly the same, says that he touched the man's eyes. St Matthew says he touched the eyes of the _two_ blind men whom his account places in otherwise identical circumstances. With a surrounding crowd who knew them, I think the touching was less necessary than in private; but there is no need to inquire which is the more correct account. The former two may have omitted a fact, or St Matthew _may_ have combined the story with that of the two blind men already noticed, of which he is the sole narrator. But in any case there are, I think, but two recorded instances of the blind praying for cure. Most likely there were more, perhaps there were many such. I have now to consider, as suggested by the idea of this group, the question of prayer generally; for Jesus did the works of him who sent him: as Jesus did so God does. I have not seen an argument against what is called the efficacy of prayer which appears to me to have any force but what is derived from some narrow conception of the divine nature. If there be a God at all, it is absurd to suppose that his ways of working should be such as to destroy his side of the highest relation that can exist between him and those whom he has cared to make--to destroy, I mean, the relation of the will of the creator to the individual will of his creature. That God should bind himself in an iron net of his own laws--that his laws should bind him in any way, seeing they are just his nature in action--is sufficiently absurd; but that such laws should interfere with his deepest relation to his creatures, should be inconsistent with the highest consequences of that creation which alone gives occasion for those laws--that, in fact, the will of God should be at strife with the foregoing action of God, not to say with the very nature of God--that he should, with an unchangeable order of material causes and effects, cage in for ever the winged aspirations of the human will which he has made in the image of his own will, towards its natural air of freedom in His will, would be pronounced inconceivable, were it not that it has been conceived and uttered--conceived and uttered, however, only by minds to which the fact of this relation was, if at all present, then only in the vaguest and most incomplete form. That he should not leave himself any _willing_ room towards those to whom he gave need, room to go wrong, will to turn and look up and pray and hope, is to me grotesquely absurd. It is far easier to believe that as both--the laws of nature, namely, and the human will--proceed from the same eternally harmonious thought, they too are so in harmony, that for the perfect operation of either no infringement upon the other is needful; and that what seems to be such infringement would show itself to a deeper knowledge of both as a perfectly harmonious co-operation. Nor would it matter that we know so little, were it not that with each fresh discovery we are so ready to fancy anew that now, at last, we know all about it. We have neither humility enough to be faithful, nor faith enough to be humble. Unfit to grasp any whole, yet with an inborn idea of wholeness which ought to be our safety in urging us ever on towards the Unity, we are constantly calling each new part the whole, saying we have found the idea, and casting ourselves on the couch of self-glorification. Thus the very need of unity is by our pride perverted to our ruin. We say we have found it, when we have it not. Hence, also, it becomes easy to refuse certain considerations, yea, certain facts, a place in our system--for the system will cease to be a system at all the moment they are acknowledged. They may have in them the very germ of life and truth; but what is that, if they destroy this Babylon that we have built? Are not its forms stately and fair? Yea, _can_ there be statelier and fairer? The main point is simply this, that what it would not be well for God to give before a man had asked for it, it may be not only well, but best, to give when he has asked. [Footnote 4: _Well_ and _Best_ must be the same thing with God when he acts.] I believe that the first half of our training is up to the asking point; after that the treatment has a grand new element in it. For God can give when a man is in the fit condition to receive it, what he cannot give before because the man cannot receive it. How give instruction in the harmony of colours or tones to a man who cannot yet distinguish between shade and shade or tone and tone, upon which distinction all harmony depends? A man cannot receive except another will give; no more can a man give if another will not receive; he can only offer. Doubtless, God works on every man, else he _could_ have no divine tendency at all; there would be no _thither_ for him to turn his face towards; there could be at best but a sense of want. But the moment the man has given in to God--to use a homely phrase--the spirit for which he prays can work in him all with him, not now (as it _appeared_ then) _against_ him. Every parent at all worthy of the relation must know that occasions occur in which the asking of the child makes the giving of the parent the natural correlative. In a way infinitely higher, yet the same at the root, for all is of God, He can give when the man asks what he could not give without, because in the latter case the man would take only the husk of the gift, and cast the kernel away--a husk poisonous without the kernel, although wholesome and comforting with it. But some will say, "We may ask, but it is certain we shall not have everything we ask for." No, thank God, certainly not; we shall have nothing which we ourselves, when capable of judging and choosing with open eyes to its true relation to ourselves, would not wish and choose to have. If God should give otherwise, it must be as a healing punishment of inordinate and hurtful desire. The parable of the father dividing his living at the prayer of the younger son, must be true of God's individual sons, else it could not have been true of the Jews on the one hand and the Gentiles on the other. He will grant some such prayers because he knows that the swine and their husks will send back his son with quite another prayer on his lips. If my supposed interlocutor answers, "What then is the good of praying, if it is not to go by what I want?" I can only answer, "You have to learn, and it may be by a hard road." In the kinds of things which men desire, there are essential differences. In physical well-being, there is a divine good. In sufficient food and raiment, there is a divine fitness. In wealth, as such, there is _none_. A man may pray for money to pay his debts, for healing of the sickness which incapacitates him for labour or good work, for just judgment in the eyes of his fellow-men, with an altogether different confidence from that with which he could pray for wealth, or for bodily might to surpass his fellows, or for vengeance upon those whose judgment of his merits differed from his own; although even then the divine soul will with his Saviour say, "If it be possible: Not my will but thine." For he will know that God gives only the best. "But God does not even cure every one who asks him. And so with the other things you say are good to pray for." Jesus did not cure all the ills in Judaea. But those he did cure were at least real ills and real needs. There was a fitness in the condition of some, a fitness favoured by his own bodily presence amongst them, which met the virtue ready to go out from him. But God is ever present, and I have yet to learn that any man prayed for money to be honest with and to meet the necessities of his family, and did the work of him who had called him from the market-place of the nation, who did not receive his penny a-day. If to any one it seems otherwise, I believe the apparent contradiction will one day be cleared up to his satisfaction. God has not to satisfy the judgment of men as they are, but as they will be and must be, having learned the high and perfectly honest and grand way of things which is his will. For God to give men just what they want would often be the same as for a man to give gin to the night-wanderer whom he had it in his power to take home and set to work for wages. But I must believe that many of the ills of which men complain would be speedily cured if they would work in the strength of prayer. If the man had not taken up his bed when Christ bade him, he would have been a great authority with the scribes and chief priests against the divine mission of Jesus. The power to work is a diviner gift than a great legacy. But these are individual affairs to be settled individually between God and his child. They cannot be pronounced upon generally because of individual differences. But here as there, now as then, the lack is _faith_. A man may say, "How can I have faith?" I answer, "How can you indeed, who do the thing you know you ought not to do, and have not begun to do the thing you know you ought to do? How should you have faith? It is not well that you should be cured yet. It would have hurt these men to cure them if they would not ask. And you do not pray." The man who has prayed most is, I suspect, the least doubtful whether God hears prayer now as Jesus heard it then. That we doubt is well, for we are not yet in the empyrean of simple faith. But I think the man who believes and prays now, has answers to his prayers even better than those which came to the sick in Judæa; for although the bodily presence of Jesus made a difference in their favour, I do believe that the Spirit of God, after widening its channels for nearly nineteen hundred years, can flow in greater plenty and richness now. Hence the answers to prayer must not only not be of quite the same character as then, but they must be better, coming yet closer to the heart of the need, whether known as such by him who prays, or not. But the change lies in man's power of reception, for God is always the same to his children. Only, being infinite, he must speak to them and act for them in the endless diversity which their growth and change render necessary. Thus only they can receive of his fulness who is all in all and unchangeable. In our imperfect condition both of faith and of understanding, the whole question of asking and receiving must necessarily be surrounded with mist and the possibility of mistake. It can be successfully encountered only by the man who for himself asks and hopes. It lies in too lofty regions and involves too many unknown conditions to be reduced to formulas of ours; for God must do only the best, and man is greater and more needy than himself can know. Yet he who asks _shall_ receive--of the very best. One promise without reserve, and only one, because it includes all, remains: the promise of the Holy Spirit to them who ask it. He who has the Spirit of God, God himself, in him, has the Life in him, possesses the final cure of all ill, has in himself the answer to all possible prayer. VI. MIRACLES GRANTED TO THE PRAYER OF FRIENDS. If we allow that prayer may in any case be heard for the man himself, it almost follows that it must be heard for others. It cannot well be in accordance with the spirit of Christianity, whose essential expression lies in the sacrifice of its founder, that a man should be heard only when he prays for himself. The fact that in cases of the preceding group faith was required on the part of the person healed as essential to his cure, represents no different principle from that which operates in the cases of the present group. True, in these the condition is not faith on the part of the person cured, but faith on the part of him who asks for his cure. But the possession of faith by the patient was not in the least essential, as far as the power of Jesus was concerned, to his bodily cure, although no doubt favourable thereto; it was necessary only to that spiritual healing, that higher cure, for the sake of which chiefly the Master brought about the lower. In both cases, the requisition of faith is for the sake of those who ask--whether for themselves or for their friends, it matters not. It is a breath to blow the smoking flax into a flame--a word to draw into closer contact with himself. He cured many without such demand, as his Father is ever curing without prayer. Cure itself shall sometimes generate prayer and faith. Well, therefore, might the cure of others be sometimes granted to prayer. Beyond this, however, there is a great fitness in the thing. For so are men bound together, that no good can come to one but all must share in it. The children suffer for the father, the father suffers for the children, and they are also blessed together. If a spiritual good descend upon the heart of a leader of the nation, the whole people might rejoice for themselves, for they must be partakers of the unspeakable gift. To increase the faith of the father may be more for the faith of the child, healed in answer to his prayer, than anything done for the child himself. It is an enlarging of one of the many channels in which the divinest gifts flow. For those gifts chiefly, at first, flow to men through the hearts and souls of those of their fellows who are nearer the Father than they, until at length they are thus brought themselves to speak to God face to face. Lonely as every man in his highest moments of spiritual vision, yea in his simplest consciousness of duty, turns his face towards the one Father, his own individual maker and necessity of his life; painfully as he may then feel that the best beloved understands not as he understands, feels not as he feels; he is yet, in his most isolated adoration of the Father of his spirit, nearer every one of the beloved than when eye meets eye, heart beats responsive to heart, and the poor dumb hand seeks by varied pressure to tell the emotion within. Often then the soul, with its many organs of utterance, feels itself but a songless bird, whose broken twitter hardens into a cage around it; but even with all those organs of utterance in full play, he is yet farther from his fellow-man than when he is praying to the Father in a desert place apart. The man who prays, in proportion to the purity of his prayer, becomes a spiritual power, a nerve from the divine brain, yea, perhaps a ganglion as we call it, whence power anew goes forth upon his fellows. He is a redistributor, as it were, of the divine blessing; not in the exercise of his own will--that is the cesspool towards which all notions of priestly mediation naturally sink--but as the self-forgetting, God-loving brother of his kind, who would be in the world as Christ was in the world. When a man prays for his fellow-man, for wife or child, mother or father, sister or brother or friend, the connection between the two is so close in God, that the blessing begged may well flow to the end of the prayer. Such a one then is, in his poor, far-off way, an advocate with the Father, like his master, Jesus Christ, The Righteous. He takes his friend into the presence with him, or if not into the presence, he leaves him with but the veil between them, and they touch through the veil. The first instance we have in this kind, occurred at Cana, in the centre of Galilee, where the first miracle was wrought. It is the second miracle in St John's record, and is recorded by him only. Doubtless these two had especially attracted his nature--the turning of water into wine, and the restoration of a son to his father. The Fatherhood of God created the fatherhood in man; God's love man's love. And what shall he do to whom a son is given whom yet he cannot keep? The divine love in his heart cleaves to the child, and the child is vanishing! What can this nobleman do but seek the man of whom such wondrous rumours have reached his ears? Between Cana and Tiberias, from which came the father with his prayer, was somewhere about twenty miles. "He is at the point of death," said the father. "Except ye see signs and wonders ye will not believe," said Jesus. "Sir, come down ere my child die." "Go thy way, thy son liveth." If the nobleman might have understood the remark the Lord made, he was in no mood for principles, and respectfully he expostulates with our Lord for spending time in words when the need was so urgent. The sun of his life was going down into the darkness. He might deserve reproof, but even reproof has its season. "Sir, come down ere my child die." Whatever the Lord meant by the words he urged it no farther. He sends him home with the assurance of the boy's recovery, showing him none of the signs or wonders of which he had spoken. Had the man been of unbelieving kind he would, when he returned and found that all had occurred in the most natural fashion, that neither here had there been sign or wonder, have gradually reverted to his old carelessness as to a higher will and its ordering of things below. But instead of this, when he heard that the boy began to get better the very hour when Jesus spoke the word--a fact quite easy to set down as a remarkable coincidence--he believed, and all his people with him. Probably he was in ideal reality the head of his house, the main source of household influences--if such, then a man of faith, for, where a man does not himself look up to the higher, the lower will hardly look faithfully up to him--surely a fit man to intercede for his son, with all his house ready to believe with him. It may be said they too shared in the evidence--such as it was--not much of a sign or wonder to them. True; but people are not ready to believe the best evidence except they are predisposed in the direction of that evidence. If it be said, "they should have thought for themselves," I answer--To think with their head was no bad sign that they did think for themselves. A great deal of what is called freedom of thought is merely the self-assertion which would persuade itself of a freedom it would possess but cannot without an effort too painful for ignorance and self-indulgence. The man would _feel_ free without being free. To assert one's individuality is not necessarily to be free: it _may_ indeed be but the outcome of absolute slavery. But if this nobleman was a faithful man, whence our Lord's word, "Except ye see signs and wonders ye will not believe"? I am not sure. It may have been as a rebuke to those about him. This man--perhaps, as is said, a nobleman of Herod's court--may not have been a pure-bred Jew, and hence our Lord's remark would bear an import such as he uttered more plainly in the two cases following, that of the Greek woman, and that of the Roman centurion: "Except _ye_ see signs and wonders ye will not believe; _but this man_--." With this meaning I should probably have been content, were it not that the words were plainly addressed to the man. I do not think this would destroy the interpretation, for the Lord may have wished to draw the man out, and make him, a Gentile or doubtful kind of Jew, rebuke the disciples; only the man's love for his son stood in the way: he could think of nothing, speak of nothing save his son; but it makes it unsatisfactory. And indeed I prefer the following interpretation, because we have the other meaning in other places; also because this is of universal application, and to us of these days appears to me of special significance and value, applying to the men of science on the one hand, and the men of superstition on the other. My impression is, that our Lord, seeing the great faith of the nobleman, grounded on what he had heard of the Master from others, chiefly of his signs and wonders, did in this remark require of him a higher faith still. It sounds to me an expostulation with him. To express in the best way my feeling concerning it, I would dare to imagine our Lord speaking in this fashion:-- "Why did you not pray the Father? Why do you want always to _see_? The door of prayer has been open since ever God made man in his own image: why are signs and wonders necessary to your faith? But I will do just as my Father would have done if you had asked him. Only when I do it, it is a sign and a wonder that you may believe; and I wish you could believe without it. But believe then for the very work's sake, if you cannot believe for the word and the truth's sake. Go thy way, thy son liveth." I would not be understood to say that the Lord _blamed_ him, or others in him, for needing signs and wonders: it was rather, I think, that the Lord spoke out of the fulness of his knowledge to awake in them some infant sense of what constituted all his life--the presence of God; just as the fingers of the light go searching in the dark mould for the sleeping seeds, to touch and awake them. The order of creation, the goings on of life, were ceaselessly flowing from the very heart of the Father: why should they seek signs and wonders differing from common things only in being uncommon? In essence there was no difference. Uncommonness is not excellence, even as commonness is not inferiority. The sign, the wonder is, in fact, the lower thing, granted only because of men's hardness of heart and slowness to believe--in itself of inferior nature to God's chosen way. Yet, if signs and wonders could help them, have them they should, for neither were they at variance with the holy laws of life and faithfulness: they were but less usual utterances of the same. "Go thy way: thy son liveth." The man, noble-man certainly in this, obeyed, and found his obedience justify his faith. But his son would have to work out his belief upon grounds differing from those his father had. In himself he could but recognize the resumption of the _natural_ sway of life. He would not necessarily know that it was God working in him. For the cause of his cure, he would only hear the story of it from his father--good evidence--but he himself had not seen the face of the Holy One as his father had. In one sense or another, he must seek and find him. Every generation must do its own seeking and its own finding. The fault of the fathers often is that they expect their finding to stand in place of their children's seeking--expect the children to receive that which has satisfied the need of their fathers upon their testimony; whereas rightly, their testimony is not ground for their children's belief, only for their children's search. That search is faith in the bud. No man can be sure till he has found for himself. All that is required of the faithful nature is a willingness to seek. He cannot even know the true nature of the thing he wants until he has found it; he has but a dim notion of it, a faint star to guide him eastward to the sunrise. Hopefully, the belief of the father has the heart in it which will satisfy the need of the child; but the doubt of this in the child, is the father's first ground for hoping that the child with his new needs will find for himself the same well of life--to draw from it with a new bucket, it may be, because the old will hold water no longer: its staves may be good, but its hoops are worn asunder; or, rather, it will be but a new rope it needs, which he has to twist from the hemp growing in his own garden. The son who was healed might have many questions to ask which the father could not answer, had never thought of. He had heard of the miracle of Cana; he had heard of many things done since: he believed that the man could cure his son, and he had cured him. "Yes," the son might say, "but I must know more of him; for, if what I hear now be true, I must cast all at his feet. He cannot be a healer only; he must be the very Lord of Life--it may be of the Universe." His simple human presence had in it something against the supposition--contained in it what must have _appeared_ reason for doubting this conclusion from his deeds, especially to one who had not seen his divine countenance. But to one at length enlightened of the great Spirit, his humanity would contain the highest ground for believing in his divinity, for what it meant would come out ever and ever loftier and grander. The Lord who had made the Universe--how _should_ he show it but as the Healer did? He could not make the universe over again in the eyes of every man. If he did, the heart of the man could not hold the sight. He must reveal himself as the curing God--the God who set things which had gone wrong, right again: _that could_ be done in the eyes of each individual man. This man may be he--the Messiah--Immanuel, God with-us. We can imagine such the further thoughts of the son--possibly of the father first--only he had been so full of the answer to his prayer, of the cure of his son, that he could not all at once follow things towards their grand conclusions. In this case, as in the two which follow, the Lord heals from a distance. I have not much to remark upon this. There were reasons for it; one perhaps the necessity of an immediate answer to the prayer; another probably lay in its fitness to the faith of the supplicants. For to heal thus, although less of a sign or a wonder to the unbelieving, had in it an element of finer power upon the faith of such as came not for the sign or the wonder, but for the cure of the beloved; for he who loves can believe what he who loves not cannot believe; and he who loves most can believe most. In this respect, these cures were like the healing granted to prayer in all ages--not that God is afar off, for he is closer to every man than his own conscious being is to his unconscious being--but that we receive the aid from the Unseen. Though there be no distance with God, it looks like it to men; and when Jesus cured thus, he cured with the same appearances which attended God's ordinary healing. The next case I take up is similar. It belongs to another of my classes, but as a case of possession there is little distinctive about it, while as the record of the devotion of a mother to her daughter--a devotion quickening in her faith so rare and lovely as to delight the very heart of Jesus with its humble intensity--it is one of the most beautiful of all the stories of healing. The woman was a Greek, and had not had the training of the Jew for a belief in the Messiah. Her misconceptions concerning the healer of whom she had heard must have been full of fancies derived from the legends of her race. But she had yet been trained to believe, for her mighty love of her own child was the best power for the development of the child-like in herself. No woman can understand the possible depths of her own affection for her daughter. I say _daughter_, not _child_, because although love is the same everywhere, it is nowhere the same. No two loves of individuals in the same correlation are the same. Much more the love of a woman for her daughter differs from the love of a father for his son--differs as the woman differs from the man. There is in it a peculiar tenderness from the sense of the same womanly consciousness in both of undefendedness and self-accountable modesty--a modesty, in this case, how terribly tortured in the mother by the wild behaviour of the daughter under the impulses of the unclean spirit! Surely if ever there was a misery to drive a woman to the Healer in an agony of rightful claim and prostrate entreaty, it was the misery of a mother whose daughter was thus possessed. The divine nature of her motherhood, of her womanhood, drew her back to its source to find help for one who shared in the same, but in whom its waters were sorely troubled and grievously defiled. She came crying to him. About him stood his disciples, proud of being Jews. For their sakes this chosen Gentile must be pained a little further, must bear with her Saviour her part of suffering for the redemption even of his chosen apostles. They counted themselves the children, and such as she the dogs. He must show them the divine nature dwelling in her. For the sake of this revelation he must try her sorely, but not for long. "Have mercy on me," she cried, "O Lord, thou son of David; my daughter is grievously vexed with a devil." But not a word of reply came from the lips of the Healer. His disciples must speak first. They must supplicate for their Gentile sister. He would arouse in them the disapproval of their own exclusiveness, by putting it on for a moment that they might see it apart from themselves. Their hearts were moved for the woman. "Send her away," they said, meaning, "Give her what she wants;" but to move the heart of love to grant the prayer, they--poor intercessors--added a selfish reason to justify the deed of goodness, either that they would avoid being supposed to acknowledge her claim on a level with that of a Jewess, and would make of it what both Puritans and priests would call "an uncovenanted mercy," or that they actually thought it would help to overcome the scruples of the Master. Possibly it was both. "She crieth after us," they said--meaning, "She is troublesome." They would have him give as the ungenerous and the unjust give to the importunate. But no healing could be granted on such a ground--not even to the prayer of an apostle. The woman herself must give a better. "I am not sent," he said, "but unto the lost sheep of the house of Israel." They understood the words falsely. We know that he did come for the Gentiles, and he was training them to see what they were so slow to understand, that he had other sheep which were not of this fold. He had need to begin with them thus early. Most of the troubles of his latest, perhaps greatest apostle, came from the indignation of Jewish Christians that he preached the good news to the Gentiles as if it had been originally meant for them. They would have had them enter into its privileges by the gates of Judaism. What they did at length understand by these words is expressed in the additional word of our Lord given by St Mark: "Let the children first be filled." But even this they could not understand until afterwards. They could not see that it was for the sake of the Gentiles as much as the Jews that Jesus came to the Jews first. For whatever glorious exceptions there were amongst the Gentiles, surpassing even similar amongst the Jews; and whatever the wide-spread refusal of the Jewish nation, he _could_ not have been received amongst the Gentiles as amongst the Jews. In Judæa alone could the leaven work; there alone could the mustard-seed take fitting root. Once rooted and up, it would become a great tree, and the birds of the world would nestle in its branches. It was not that God loved the Jews more than the Gentiles that he chose them first, but that he must begin somewhere: _why,_ God himself knows, and perhaps has given us glimmerings. Upheld by her God-given love, not yet would the woman turn away. Even such hard words as these could not repulse her. She came now and fell at his feet. It is as the Master would have it: she presses only the nearer, she insists only the more; for the devil has a hold of her daughter. "Lord, help me," is her cry; for the trouble of her daughter is her own. The "Help _me_" is far more profound and pathetic than the most vivid blazon of the daughter's sufferings. But he answered and said,-- "It is not meet to take the children's bread, and to cast it to dogs." Terrible words! more dreadful far than any he ever spoke besides! Surely now she will depart in despair! But the Lord did not mean in them to speak _his_ mind concerning the relation of Jew and Gentile; for not only do the future of his church and the teaching of his Spirit contradict it: but if he did mean what he said, then he acted as was unmeet, for he did cast a child's bread to a dog. No. He spoke as a Jew felt, that the elect Jews about him might begin to understand that in him is neither Jew nor Gentile, but all are brethren. And he has gained his point. The spirit in the woman has been divinely goaded into utterance, and out come the glorious words of her love and faith, casting aside even insult itself as if it had never been--all for the sake of a daughter. Now, indeed, it is as he would have it. "Yes, Lord; yet the dogs under the table eat of the children's crumbs." Or, as St Matthew gives it: "Truth, Lord: yet the dogs eat of the crumbs which fall from their masters' table." A retort quite Greek in its readiness, its symmetry, and its point! But it was not the intellectual merit of the answer that pleased the Master. Cleverness is cheap. It is the faith he praises, [Footnote 5: Far more precious than any show of the intellect, even in regard of the intellect itself. The quickness of her answer was the scintillation of her intellect under the glow of her affection. Love is the quickening nurse of the whole nature. Faith in God will do more for the intellect at length than all the training of the schools. It will make the best that can be made of the whole man.] which was precious as rare--unspeakably precious even when it shall be the commonest thing in the universe, but precious now as the first fruits of a world redeemed--precious now as coming from the lips of a Gentile--more precious as coming from the lips of a human mother pleading for her daughter. "O woman, great is thy faith: be it unto thee even as thou wilt." Or, as St Mark gives it, for we cannot afford to lose a varying word, "For this saying, go thy way; the devil is gone out of thy daughter." The loving mother has conquered the tormenting devil. She has called in the mighty aid of the original love. Through the channel of her love it flows, new-creating, "and her daughter was made whole from that very hour." Where, O disciples, are your children and your dogs now? Is not the wall of partition henceforth destroyed? No; you too have to be made whole of a worse devil, that of personal and national pride, before you understand. But the day of the Lord is coming for you, notwithstanding ye are so incapable of knowing the signs and signals of its approach that, although its banners are spread across the flaming sky, it must come upon you as a thief in the night. For the woman, we may well leave her to the embraces of her daughter. They are enough for her now. But endless more will follow, for God is exhaustless in giving where the human receiving holds out. God be praised that there are such embraces in the world! that there are mothers who are the salvation of their children! We now complete a little family group, as it were, with the story of another foreigner, a Roman officer, who besought the Lord for his servant. This captain was at Capernaum at the time, where I presume he had heard of the cure which Jesus had granted to the nobleman for his son. It seems almost clear from the quality of his faith, however, that he must have heard much besides of Jesus--enough to give him matter of pondering for some time, for I do not think such humble confidence as his could be, like Jonah's gourd, the growth of a night. He was evidently a man of noble and large nature. Instead of lording it over the subject Jews of Capernaum, he had built them a synagogue; and his behaviour to our Lord is marked by that respect which, shown to any human being, but especially to a person of lower social condition, is one of the surest marks of a finely wrought moral temperament. Such a nature may be beautifully developed, by a military training, in which obedience and command go together; and the excellence of faith and its instant response in action, would be more readily understood by the thoughtful officer of a well-disciplined army than by any one to whom organization was unknown. Hence arose the parallel the centurion draws between his own and the Master's position, which so pleased the Lord by its direct simplicity. But humble as the man was, I doubt if anything less than some spiritual perception of the nobility of the character of Jesus, some perception of that which was altogether beyond even the power of healing, could have generated such perfect reverence, such childlike confidence as his. It is no wonder the Lord was pleased with it, for that kind of thing must be just what his Father loves. According to St Luke, the Roman captain considered himself so unworthy of notice from the carpenter's son--they of Capernaum, which was "his own city," knew his reputed parentage well enough--that he got the elders of the Jews to go and beg for him that he would come and heal his servant. They bore testimony to his worth, specifying that which would always be first in the eyes of such as they, that he loved their nation, and had built them a synagogue. Little they thought how the Lord was about to honour him above all their nation and all its synagogues. He went with them at once. But before they reached the house, the centurion had a fresh inroad of that divine disease, humility, [Footnote 6: In him it was almost morbid, one might be tempted to say, were it not that it was own sister to such mighty faith.] and had sent other friends to say, "Lord, trouble not thyself, for I am not worthy that thou shouldest enter under my roof. Wherefore, neither thought I myself worthy to come unto thee; but say in a word, and my servant shall be healed. For I also am a man set under authority, having under me soldiers, and I say unto one, Go, and he goeth; and to another, Come, and he cometh; and to my servant, Do this, and he doeth it." This man was a philosopher: he ascended from that to which he was accustomed to that to which he was not accustomed. Nor did his divine logic fail him. He begins with acknowledging his own subjection, and states his own authority; then leaves it to our Lord to understand that he recognizes in him an authority beyond all, expecting the powers of nature to obey their Master, just as his soldiers or his servants obey him. How grandly he must have believed in him! But beyond suspicion of flattery, he avoids the face of the man whom in heart he worships. How unlike those who press into the presence of a phantom-greatness! "A poor creature like me go and talk to him!" the Roman captain would exclaim. "No, I will worship from afar off." And it is to be well heeded that the Lord went no further--turned at once. With the tax-gatherer Zacchaeus he would go home, if but to deliver him from the hopelessness of his self-contempt; but what occasion was there here? It was all right here. The centurion was one who needed but to go on. In heart and soul he was nearer the Lord now than any of the disciples who followed him. Surely some one among the elders of the Jews, his friends, would carry him the report of what the Master said. It would not hurt him. The praise of the truly great will do no harm, save it fall where it ought not, on the heart of the little. The praise of God never falls wrong, therefore never does any one harm. The Lord even implies we ought to seek it. His praise would but glorify the humility and the faith of this Roman by making both of them deeper and nobler still. There is something very grand in the Lord's turning away from the house of the man who had greater faith than any he had found in Israel; for such were the words he spoke to those who followed him, of whom in all likelihood the messenger elders were nearest. Having turned to say them, he turned not again but went his way. St Luke, whose narrative is in other respects much fuller than St Matthew's (who says that the centurion himself came to Jesus, and makes no mention of the elders), does not represent the Master as uttering a single word of cure, but implies that he just went away marvelling at him; while "they that were sent, returning to the house, found the servant whole that had been sick." If any one ask how Jesus could marvel, I answer, Jesus could do more things than we can well understand. The fact that he marvelled at the great faith, shows that he is not surprised at the little, and therefore is able to make all needful and just, yea, and tender allowance. Here I cannot do better for my readers than give them four lines, dear to me, but probably unknown to most of them, written, I must tell them, for the sake of their loving catholicity, by an English Jesuit of the seventeenth century. They touch the very heart of the relation between Jesus and the centurion:-- Thy God was making haste into thy roof; Thy humble faith and fear keeps Him aloof: He'll be thy guest; because He may not be, He'll come--into thy house? No, into thee. As I said, we thus complete a kind of family group, for surely the true servant is one of the family: we have the prayer of a father for a son, of a mother for a daughter, of a master for a servant. Alas! the dearness of this latter bond is not now known as once. There never was a rooted institution in parting with which something good was not lost for a time, however necessary its destruction might be for the welfare of the race. There are fewer free servants that love their masters and mistresses now, I fear, than there were Roman bondsmen and bondswomen who loved theirs. And, on the other hand, very few masters and mistresses regard the bond between them and their servants with half the respect and tenderness with which many among the Romans regarded it. Slavery is a bad thing and of the devil, yet mutual jealousy and contempt are worse. But the time will yet come when a servant will serve for love as more than wages; and when the master of such a servant will honour him even to the making him sit down to meat, and coming forth and serving him. The next is the case of the palsied man, so graphically given both by St Mark and St Luke, and with less of circumstance by St Matthew. This miracle also was done in Capernaum, called his own city. Pharisees and doctors of the law from every town in the country, hearing of his arrival, had gathered to him, and were sitting listening to his teaching. There was no possibility of getting near him, and the sick man's friends had carried him up to the roof, taken off the tiles, and let him down into the presence. It should not be their fault if the poor fellow was not cured. "Jesus seeing their faith--When Jesus saw their faith--And when he saw their faith, he said unto the sick of the palsy, Son, be of good cheer--Son--Man, thy sins are forgiven thee." The forgiveness of the man's sins is by all of the narrators connected with the faith of his friends. This is very remarkable. The only other instance in which similar words are recorded, is that of the woman who came to him in Simon's house, concerning whom he showed first, that her love was a sign that her sins were already forgiven. What greater honour could he honour their faith withal than grant in their name, unasked, the one mighty boon? They had brought the man to him; to them he forgave his sins. He looked into his heart, and probably saw, as in the case of the man whom he cured by the pool of Bethesda, telling him to go and sin no more, that his own sins had brought upon him this suffering, a supposition which aids considerably to the understanding of the consequent conversation; saw, at all events, that the assurance of forgiveness was what he most needed, whether because his conscience was oppressed with a sense of guilt, or that he must be brought to think more of the sin than of the suffering; for it involved an awful rebuke to the man, if he required it still--that the Lord should, when he came for healing, present him with forgiveness. Nor did he follow it at once with the cure of his body, but delayed that for a little, probably for the man's sake, as probably for the sake of those present, whom he had been teaching for some time, and in whose hearts he would now fix the lesson concerning the divine forgiveness which he had preached to them in bestowing it upon the sick man. For his words meant nothing, except they meant that God forgave the man. The scribes were right when they said that none could forgive sins but God--that is, in the full sense in which forgiveness is still needed by every human being, should all his fellows whom he has injured have forgiven him already. They said in their hearts, "He is a blasphemer." This was what he had expected. "Why do you think evil in your hearts?" he said, that is, _evil of me--that I am a blasphemer_. He would now show them that he was no blasphemer; that he had the power to forgive, that it was the will of God that he should preach the remission of sins. How could he show it them? In one way only: by dismissing the consequence, the punishment of those sins, sealing thus in the individual case the general truth. He who could say to a man, by the eternal law suffering the consequences of sin: "Be whole, well, strong; suffer no more," must have the right to pronounce his forgiveness; else there was another than God who had to cure with a word the man whom his Maker had afflicted. If there were such another, the kingdom of God must be trembling to its fall, for a stronger had invaded and reversed its decrees. Power does not give the right to pardon, but its possession may prove the right. "Whether is easier--to say, Thy sins be forgiven thee, or to say, Rise up and walk?" If only God can do either, he who can do the one must be able to do the other. "That ye may know that the Son of man hath power upon earth to forgive sins--Arise, and take up thy bed, and go thy way into thine house." Up rose the man, took up that whereon he had lain, and went away, knowing in himself that his sins _were_ forgiven him, for he was able to glorify God. It seems to me against our Lord's usual custom with the scribes and Pharisees to grant them such proof as this. Certainly, to judge by those recorded, the whole miracle was in aspect and order somewhat unusual. But I think the men here assembled were either better than the most of their class, or in a better mood than common, for St Luke says of them that the power of the Lord was present to heal them. To such therefore proof might be accorded which was denied to others. That he might heal these learned doctors around him, he forgave the sins first and then cured the palsy of the man before him. For their sakes he performed the miracle thus. Then, _like priests, like people_; for where their leaders were listening, the people broke open the roof to get the helpless into his presence. "They marvelled and glorified God which had given such power unto men"--"Saying, We never saw it on this fashion."--"They were filled with fear, saying, We have seen strange things to-day." And yet Capernaum had to be brought down to hell, and no man can tell the place where it stood. Two more cases remain, both related by St Mark alone. They brought him a man partially deaf and dumb. He led him aside from the people: he would be alone with him, that he might come the better into relation with that individuality which, until molten from within, is so hard to touch. Possibly had the man come of himself, this might have been less necessary; but I repeat there must have been in every case reason for the individual treatment in the character and condition of the patient. These were patent only to the Healer. In this case the closeness of the personal contact, as in those cases of the blind, is likewise remarkable. "He put his fingers into his ears, he spit and touched his tongue." Always in present disease, bodily contact--in defects of the senses, sometimes of a closer kind. He would generate assured faith in himself as the healer. But there is another remarkable particular here, which, as far as I can remember, would be alone in its kind but for a fuller development of it at the raising of Lazarus. "And looking up to heaven, he sighed." What did it mean? What first of all _was_ it? That look, was it not a look up to his own Father? That sigh, was it not the unarticulated prayer to the Father of the man who stood beside him? But did _he_ need to look up as if God was in the sky, seeing that God was in _him_, in his very deepest, inmost being, in fulness of presence, and receiving conscious response, such as he could not find anywhere else--not from the whole gathered universe? Why should he send a sigh, like a David's dove, to carry the thought of his heart to his Father? True, if all the words of human language had been blended into one glorious majesty of speech, and the Lord had sought therein to utter the love he bore his Father, his voice must needs have sunk into the last inarticulate resource--the poor sigh, in which evermore speech dies helplessly triumphant--appealing to the Hearer to supply the lack, saying _I cannot, but thou knowest_--confessing defeat, but claiming victory. But the Lord could talk to his Father evermore in the forms of which words are but the shadows, nay, infinitely more, without forms at all, in the thoughts which are the souls of the forms. Why then needs he look up and sigh?--That the man, whose faith was in the merest nascent condition, might believe that whatever cure came to him from the hand of the healer, came from the hand of God. Jesus did not care to be believed in as the doer of the deed, save the deed itself were recognized as given him of the Father. If they saw him only, and not the Father through him, there was little gained indeed. The upward look and the sigh were surely the outward expression of the infrangible link which bound both the Lord and the man to the Father of all. He would lift the man's heart up to the source of every gift. No cure would be worthy gift without that: it might be an injury. The last case is that of the blind man of Bethsaida, whom likewise he led apart, out of the town, and whose dull organs he likewise touched with his spittle. Then comes a difference. The deaf man was at once cured; when he had laid his hands on the blind man, his vision was but half-restored. "He asked him if he saw ought? And he looked up and said, I see the men: for like trees [Footnote 7: Could it be translated, "_As well as_ (that is besides) trees, I see walkers about"?] I see them walking about." He could tell they were men and not trees, only by their motion. The Master laid his hands once more upon his eyes, and when he looked up again, he saw every man clearly. In thus graduating the process, our Lord, I think, drew forth, encouraged, enticed into strength the feeble faith of the man. He brooded over him with his holy presence of love. He gave the faith time to grow. He cared more for his faith than his sight. He let him, as it were, watch him, feel him doing it, that he might know and believe. There is in this a peculiar resemblance to the ordinary modes God takes in healing men. These last miracles are especially full of symbolism and analogy. But in considering any of the miracles, I do not care to dwell upon this aspect of them, for in this they are only like all the rest of the doings of God. Nature is brimful of symbolic and analogical parallels to the goings and comings, the growth and the changes of the highest nature in man. It could not be otherwise. For not only did they issue from the same thought, but the one is made for the other. Nature as an outer garment for man, or a living house, rather, for man to live in. So likewise must all the works of him who did the works of the Father bear the same mark of the original of all. The one practical lesson contained in this group is nearer the human fact and the human need than any symbolic meaning, grand as it must be, which they may likewise contain; nearer also to the constitution of things, inasmuch as what a man must _do_ is more to the man and to his Maker than what he can only _think_; inasmuch, also, as the commonest things are the best, and any man can do right, although he may be unable to tell the difference between a symbol and a sign:--it is that if ever there was a Man such as we read about here, then he who prays for his friends shall be heard of God. I do not say he shall have whatever he asks for. God forbid. But he shall be heard. And the man who does not see the good of that, knows nothing of the good of prayer; can, I fear, as yet, only pray for himself, when most he fancies he is praying for his friend. Often, indeed, when men suppose they are concerned for the well-beloved, they are only concerned about what they shall do without them. Let them pray for themselves instead, for that will be the truer prayer. I repeat, all prayer is assuredly heard:--what evil matter is it that it should be answered only in the right time and right way? The prayer argues a need--that need will be supplied. One day is with the Lord as a thousand years, and a thousand years as one day. All who have prayed shall one day justify God and say--Thy answer is beyond my prayer, as thy thoughts and thy ways are beyond my thoughts and my ways. VII. THE CASTING OUT OF DEVILS. Before attempting to say the little I can concerning this group of miracles, I would protect myself against possible misapprehension. The question concerning the nature of what is called _possession_ has nothing whatever to do with that concerning the existence or nonexistence of a personal and conscious power of evil, the one great adversary of the kingdom of heaven, commonly called Satan, or the devil. I say they are two distinct questions, and have so little in common that the one may be argued without even an allusion to the other. Many think that in the cases recorded we have but the symptoms of well-known diseases, which, from their exceptionally painful character, involving loss of reason, involuntary or convulsive motions, and other abnormal phenomena, the imaginative and unscientific Easterns attributed, as the easiest mode of accounting for them, to a foreign power taking possession of the body and mind of the man. They say there is no occasion whatever to resort to an explanation involving an agency of which we know nothing from any experience of our own; that, as our Lord did not come to rectify men's psychological or physiological theories, he adopted the mode of speech common amongst them, but cast out the evil spirits simply by healing the diseases attributed to their influences. There seems to me nothing unchristian in this interpretation. All diseases that trouble humanity may well be regarded as inroads of the evil powers upon the palaces and temples of God, where only the Holy Spirit has a right to dwell; and to cast out such, is a marvel altogether as great as to expel the intruding forces to which the Jews attributed some of them. Certainly also our Lord must have used multitudes of human expressions which did not more than adumbrate his own knowledge. And yet I cannot admit that the solution meets all the appearances of the difficulty. I say _appearances_, because I could not be dogmatic here if I would. I know too little, understand too little, to dare give such an opinion as possesses even the authority of personal conviction. All I have to say on the subject must therefore come to little. Perhaps if the marvellous, as such, were to me more difficult of belief, anything I might have to say on the side of it would have greater weight. But to me the marvellous is not therefore incredible, always provided that in itself the marvellous thing appears worthy. I have no difficulty in receiving the old Jewish belief concerning possession; and I think it better explains the phenomena recorded than the growing modern opinion; while the action of matter upon mind may well be regarded as involving greater mystery than the action of one spiritual nature upon another. That a man should rave in madness because some little cell or two in the grey matter of his brain is out of order, is surely no more within the compass of man's understanding than the supposition that an evil spirit, getting close to the fountain of a man's physical life, should disturb all the goings on of that life, even to the production of the most appalling moral phenomena. In either case it is not the man himself who originates the resulting actions, but an external power operating on the man. "But we do not even know that there are such spirits, and we do know that a diseased brain is sufficient to account for the worst of the phenomena recorded." I will not insist on the fact that we do _not_ know that the diseased brain is enough to account for the phenomena, that we only know it as in many cases a concomitant of such phenomena; I will grant so much, and yet insist that, as the explanation does not fit the statements of the record, and as we know so little of what is, any hint of unknown possibilities falling from unknown regions, should, even as a stranger, receive the welcome of contemplation and conjecture, so long as in itself it involves no moral contradiction. The man who will not speculate at all, can make no progress. The thinking about the possible is as genuine, as lawful, and perhaps as edifying an exercise of the mind as the severest induction. Better lies still beyond. Experiment itself must follow in the track of sober conjecture; for if we know already, where is the good of experiment? There seems to me nothing unreasonable in the supposition of the existence of spirits who, having once had bodies such as ours, and having abused the privileges of embodiment, are condemned for a season to roam about bodiless, ever mourning the loss of their capacity for the only pleasures they care for, and craving after them in their imaginations. Such, either in selfish hate of those who have what they have lost, or from eagerness to come as near the possession of a corporeal form as they may, might well seek to _enter into_ a man. The supposition at least is perfectly consistent with the facts recorded. Possibly also it may be consistent with the phenomena of some of the forms of the madness of our own day, although all its forms are alike regarded as resulting from physical causes alone. The first act of dispossession recorded is that told by St Mark and St Luke, as taking place at Capernaum, amongst his earliest miracles, and preceding the cure of Simon's mother-in-law. He was in the synagogue on the Sabbath day, teaching the congregation, when a man present, who had an unclean spirit, cried out. If I accept the narrative, I find this cry far more intelligible on the old than on the new theory. The speaker, no doubt using the organs of the man, brain and all, for utterance, recognizes a presence--to him the cause of terror--which he addresses as the Holy One of God. This holy one he would propitiate by entreaty and the flattering acknowledgment of his divine mission, with the hope of being left unmolested in the usurpation and cruelty by which he ministered to his own shadowy self-indulgences. Could anything be more consistently diabolic? What other word could Jesus address to such than, "Hold thy peace, and come out of him"? A being in such a condition could not be permitted to hold converse with the Saviour; for he recognized no salvation but what lay in the continuance of his own pleasures at the expense of another. The form of the rebuke plainly assumes that it was not the man but some one in the man who had spoken; and the narrative goes on to say that when the devil had thrown him down and torn him and cried with a loud voice--his rage and disappointment, I presume, finding its last futile utterance in the torture of his captive--he came out of him and left him unhurt. Thereupon the people questioned amongst themselves saying, "What thing is this? It is a teaching new, and with authority: he commandeth even the unclean spirits, and they obey him;" [Footnote 8: St Mark, i. 27. Authorized Version revised by Dean Alford.] thus connecting at once his power over the unclean spirits with the doctrine he taught, just as our Lord in an after-instance associates power over demons with spiritual condition. It was the truth in him that made him strong against the powers of untruth. Many such cures were performed, but the individual instances recorded are few. The next is that of the man--dumb, according to St Luke, both blind and dumb, according to St Matthew--who spake and saw as soon as the devil was cast out of him. With unerring instinct the people concluded that he who did such deeds must be the Son of David; the devils themselves, according to St Mark, were wont to acknowledge him the Son of God; the Scribes and Pharisees, the would-be guides of the people, alone refused the witness, and in the very imbecility of unbelief, eager after any theory that might seem to cover the facts without acknowledging a divine mission in one who would not admit _their_ authority, attributed to Beelzebub himself the deliverance of distressed mortals from the powers of evil. Regarding the kingdom of God as a thing of externals, they were fortified against recognizing in Jesus himself or in his doctrine any sign that he was the enemy of Satan, and might even persuade themselves that such a cure was only one of Satan's tricks for the advancement of his kingdom with the many by a partial emancipation of the individual. But our Lord attributes this false conclusion to its true cause--to no incapacity or mistake of judgement; to no over-refining about the possible chicaneries of Beelzebub; but to a preference for any evil which would support them in their authority with the people--in itself an evil. Careless altogether about truth itself, they would not give a moment's quarter to any individual utterance of it which tended to destroy their honourable position in the nation. Each man to himself was his own god. The Spirit of God they shut out. To them forgiveness was not offered. They must pay the uttermost farthing--whatever that may mean--and frightful as the doom must be. That he spoke thus against them was but a further carrying out of his mission, a further inroad upon the kingdom of that Beelzebub. And yet they were the accredited authorities in the church of that day; and he who does not realize this, does not understand the battle our Lord had to fight for the emancipation of the people. It was for the sake of the people that he called the Pharisees _hypocrites_, and not for their own sakes, for how should he argue with men who taught religion for their own aggrandizement? It is to be noted that our Lord recognizes the power of others besides himself to cast out devils. "By whom do your children cast them out?" _Did you ever say of them it was by Beelzebub? Why say it of me_? What he claims he freely allows. The Saviour had no tinge of that jealousy of rival teaching--as if truth could be two, and could avoid being one--which makes so many of his followers grasp at any waif of false argument. He knew that all good is of God, and not of the devil. All were _with_ him who destroyed the power of the devil. They who were cured, and they in whom self-worship was not blinding the judgment, had no doubt that he was fighting Satan on his usurped ground. Torture was what might be expected of Satan; healing what might be expected of God. The reality of the healing, the loss of the man, morally as well as physically, to the kingdom of evil, was witnessed in all the signs that followed. Our Lord rests his argument on the fact that Satan had lost these men. We hear next, from St Luke, of certain women who followed him, having been healed of evil spirits and infirmities, amongst whom is mentioned "Mary, called Magdalene, out of whom went seven devils." No wonder a woman thus delivered should devote her restored self to the service of him who had recreated her. We hear nothing of the circumstances of the cure, only the result in her constant ministration. Hers is a curious instance of the worthlessness of what some think it a mark of high-mindedness to regard alone--the opinion, namely, of posterity. Without a fragment of evidence, this woman has been all but universally regarded as impure. But what a trifle to her! Down in this squabbling nursery of the race, the name of Mary Magdalene may be degraded even to a subject for pictorial sentimentalities; but the woman herself is with that Jesus who set her free. To the end of time they may call her what they please: to her it is worth but a smile of holy amusement. And just as worthy is the applause of posterity associated with a name. To God alone we live or die. Let us fall, as, thank him, we must, into his hands. Let him judge us. Posterity may be wiser than we; but posterity is not our judge. We come now to a narrative containing more of the marvellous than all the rest. The miracle was wrought on the south-eastern side of the lake--St Matthew says, upon two demoniacs; St Mark and St Luke make mention only of one. The accounts given by the latter Evangelists are much more circumstantial than that by the former. It was a case of peculiarly frightful character. The man, possessed of many demons, was ferocious, and of marvellous strength, breaking chains and fetters, and untameable. It is impossible to analyse the phenomena, saying which were the actions of the man, and which those of the possessing demons. Externally all were the man's, done by the man finally, some part, I presume, from his own poor withered will, far the greater from the urging of the demons. Even in the case of a man driven by appetite or passion, it is impossible to say how much is to be attributed to the man himself, and how much to that lower nature in him which he ought to keep in subjection, but which, having been allowed to get the upper hand, has become a possessing demon. He met the Lord worshipping, and, as in a former instance, praying for such clemency as devils can value. Was it the devils, then, that urged the man into the presence of the Lord? Was it not rather the other spirit, the spirit of life, which not the presence of a legion of the wicked ones could drive from him? Was it not the spirit of the Father in him which brought him, ignorant, fearing, yet vaguely hoping perhaps, to the feet of the Son? He knew not why he came; but he came--drawn or driven; he could not keep away. When he came, however, the words at least of his prayer were moulded by the devils--"I adjure thee by God that thou torment me not." Think of the man, tortured by such awful presences, praying to the healer not to torment him! The prayer was compelled into this shape by the indwelling demons. They would have him pray for indulgence for them. But the Lord heard the deeper prayer, that is, the need and misery of the man, the horror that made him cry and cut himself with stones--and commanded the unclean spirit to come out of him. Thereupon, St Mark says, "he besought him much that he would not send them out of the country." Probably the country was one the condition of whose inhabitants afforded the demons unusual opportunities for their coveted pseudo-embodiment. St Luke says, "They besought him that he would not command them to go out into the deep"--to such beings awful, chiefly because there they must be alone, afar from matter and all its forms. In such loneliness the good man would be filled with the eternal presence of the living God; but they would be aware only of their greedy, hungry selves--desires without objects. No. Here were swine. "Send us into the swine, that we may enter into them." Deprived of the abode they preferred, debarred from men, swine would serve their turn. But even the swine--animals created to look unclean, for a type to humanity of the very form and fashion of its greed--could not endure their presence. The man had cut himself with stones in his misery; the swine in theirs rushed into the waters of the lake and were drowned. The evil spirits, I presume, having no further leave, had to go to their deep after all. The destruction of the swine must not be regarded as miraculous. But there must have been a special reason in the character and condition of the people of Gadara for his allowing this destruction of their property. I suppose that although it worked vexation and dismay at first, it prepared the way for some after-reception of the gospel. Now, seeing him who had been a raving maniac, sitting at the feet of Jesus, clothed and in his right mind, and hearing what had come to the swine, they were filled with fear, and prayed the healer to depart from them. But who can imagine the delight of the man when that wild troop of maddening and defiling demons, which had possessed him with all uncleanness, vanished! Scarce had he time to know that he was naked, before the hands of loving human beings, in whom the good Spirit ruled, were taking off their own garments, and putting them upon him. He was a man once more, and amongst men with human faces, human hearts, human ways. He was with his own; and that supreme form and face of the man who had set him free was binding them all into one holy family. Now he could pray of himself the true prayer of a soul which knew what it wanted, and could say what it meant. He sat down like a child at the feet of the man who had cured him; and when, yielding at once to the desire of those who would be rid of his presence, Jesus went down to the boat, he followed, praying that he might be with him; for what could he desire but to be near that power which had restored him his divine self, and the consciousness thereof--his own true existence, that of which God was thinking when he made him? But he would be still nearer the Lord in doing his work than in following him about. It is remarkable that while more than once our Lord charged the healed to be silent, he leaves this man as his apostle--his witness with those who had banished him from their coasts. Something may be attributed to the different natures of the individuals; some in preaching him would also preach themselves, and so hurt both. But this man was not of such. To be with the Lord was all his prayer. Therefore he was fit to be without him, and to aid his work apart. But I think it more likely that the reason lay in the condition of the people. Judæa was in a state of excitement about him--that excitement had unhealthy elements, and must not be fanned. In some places the Lord would not speak at all. Through some he would pass unknown. But here all was different. He had destroyed their swine; they had prayed him to depart; if he took from them this one sign of his real presence, that is, of the love which heals, not the power which destroys, it would be to abandon them. But it is very noteworthy that he sent the man to his own house, to his own friends. They must be the most open to such a message as his, and from such lips--the lips of their own flesh and blood. He had been raving in tombs and deserts, tormented with a legion of devils; now he was one of themselves again, with love in his eyes, adoration in the very tones of his voice, and help in his hands--reason once more supreme on the throne of his humanity. He obeyed, and published in Gadara, and the rest of the cities of Decapolis, the great things, as Jesus himself called them, which God had done for him. For it was God who had done them. He was doing the works of his Father. One more instance remains, having likewise peculiar points of difficulty, and therefore of interest. When Jesus was on the mount of transfiguration, a dumb, epileptic, and lunatic boy was brought by his father to those disciples who were awaiting his return. But they could do nothing. To their disappointment, and probably to their chagrin, they found themselves powerless over the evil spirit. When Jesus appeared, the father begged of him the aid which his disciples could not give: "Master, I beseech thee, look upon my son, for he is mine only child." Whoever has held in his arms his child in delirium, calling to his father for aid as if he were distant far, and beating the air in wild and aimless defence, will be able to enter a little into the trouble of this man's soul. To have the child, and yet see him tormented in some region inaccessible; to hold him to the heart and yet be unable to reach the thick-coming fancies which distract him; to find himself with a great abyss between him and his child, across which the cry of the child comes, but back across which no answering voice can reach the consciousness of the sufferer--is terror and misery indeed. But imagine in the case before us the intervals as well--the stupidity, the vacant gaze, the hanging lip, the pale flaccid countenance and bloodshot eyes, idiocy alternated with madness--no voice of human speech, only the animal babble of the uneducated dumb--the misery of his falling down anywhere, now in the fire, now in the water, and the divine shines out as nowhere else--for the father loves his only child even to agony. What was there in such a child to love? _Everything_: the human was there, else whence the torture of that which was not human? whence the pathos of those eyes, hardly up to the dog's in intelligence, yet omnipotent over the father's heart? God was there. The misery was that the devil was there too. Thence came the crying and tears. "Rescue the divine; send the devil to the deep," was the unformed prayer in the father's soul. Before replying to his prayer, Jesus uttered words that could not have been addressed to the father, inasmuch as he was neither faithless nor perverse. Which then of those present did he address thus? To which of them did he say, "How long shall I be with you? How long shall I suffer you?" I have thought it was the bystanders: but why they? They had not surely reached the point of such rebuke. I have thought it was the disciples, because perhaps it was their pride that rendered them unable to cast out the demon, seeing they tried it without faith enough in God. But the form of address does not seem to belong to them: the word generation could not well apply to those whom he had chosen out of that generation. I have thought, and gladly would I continue to think, if I could honestly, that the words were intended for the devils who tormented his countrymen and friends; and but for St Mark's story, I might have held to it. He, however, gives us one point which neither St Matthew nor St Luke mention--that "when he came to his disciples he saw a great multitude about them, and the scribes questioning with them." He says the multitude were greatly amazed when they saw him--why, I do not know, except it be that he came just at the point where his presence was needful to give the one answer to the scribes pressing hard upon his disciples because they could not cast out this devil. These scribes, these men of accredited education, who, from their position as students of the law and the interpretations thereof, arrogated to themselves a mastery over the faith of the people, but were themselves so careless about the truth as to be utterly opaque to its illuminating power--these scribes, I say, I do think it was whom our Lord addressed as "faithless and perverse generation." The immediately following request to the father of the boy, "Bring him unto me," was the one answer to their arguments. A fresh paroxysm was the first result. But repressing all haste, the Lord will care for the father as much as for the child. He will help his growing faith. "How long is it ago since thus hath come unto him?" "From a child. And oft-times it hath cast him into the fire, and into the waters, to destroy him; but if thou canst do anything, have compassion on us, and help us." [Footnote 9: Again the _us_--so full of pathos.] "_If thou canst_?" [Footnote 10: The oldest manuscripts. (_Dean Alford_). "If thou canst have faith--All things," &c. ("New Translation of the Gospel of St Mark." _Rev. F.H. Godwin_).] All things are possible to him that believeth." "Lord, I believe; help thou mine unbelief." Whether the words of Jesus, "him that believeth," meant himself as believing in the Father, and therefore gifted with all power, or the man as believing in him, and therefore capable of being the recipient of the effects of that power, I am not sure. I incline to the former. The result is the same, for the man resolves the question practically and personally: what was needful in him should be in him. "I believe; help thou mine unbelief." In the honesty of his heart, lest he should be saying more than was true--for how could he be certain that Jesus would cure his son? or how could he measure and estimate his own faith?--he appeals to the Lord of Truth for all that he ought to be, and think, and believe. "Help thou mine unbelief." It is the very triumph of faith. The unbelief itself cast like any other care upon him who careth for us, is the highest exercise of belief. It is the greatest effort lying in the power of the man. No man can help doubt. The true man alone, that is, the faithful man, can appeal to the Truth to enable him to believe what is true, and refuse what is false. How this applies especially to our own time and the need of the living generations, is easy to see. Of all prayers it is the one for us. Possibly our Lord might have held a little farther talk with him, but the people came crowding about. "He rebuked the foul spirit, saying unto him, Thou dumb and deaf spirit, I charge thee, come out of him, and enter no more into him. And the spirit cried and rent him sore, and came out of him: and he was as one dead; insomuch that many said, He is dead. But Jesus took him by the hand, and lifted him up; and he arose." "Why could not we cast him out?" asked his disciples as soon as they were alone. "This kind can come forth by nothing but by prayer and fasting." What does this answer imply? The prayer and fasting must clearly be on the part of those who would heal. They cannot be required of one possessed with a demon. If he could fast and pray, the demon would be gone already. It implies that a great purity of soul is needful in him who would master the powers of evil. I take prayer and fasting to indicate a condition of mind elevated above the cares of the world and the pleasures of the senses, in close communion with the God of life; therefore by its very purity an awe and terror to the unclean spirits, a fit cloud whence the thunder of the word might issue against them. The expulsion would appear to be the result of moral, and hence natural, superiority--a command resting upon oneness with the ultimate will of the Supreme, in like manner as an evil man is sometimes cowed in the presence of a good man. The disciples had not attained this lofty condition of faith. From this I lean to think that the words of our Lord--"All things are possible to him that believeth"--apply to our Lord himself. The disciples could not help the child: "If thou canst do anything," said the father. "All things are possible to him that believeth," says our Lord. _He_ can help him. That it was the lack of faith in the disciples which rendered the thing impossible for them, St Matthew informs us explicitly, for he gives the reply of our Lord more fully than the rest: "Because of your unbelief," he said, and followed with the assertion that faith could remove mountains. But the words--_"This kind"_--suggest that the case had its peculiarities. It would appear--although I am not certain of this interpretation--that some kinds of spirits required for their expulsion, or at least some cases of possession required for their cure, more than others of the presence of God in the healer. I do not care to dwell upon this farther than to say that there are points in the narrative which seem to indicate that it was an unusually bad case. The Lord asked how long he had been ill, and was told, from childhood. The demon--to use the language of our ignorance--had had time and opportunity, in his undeveloped condition, to lay thorough hold upon him; and when he did yield to the superior command of the Lord, he left him as dead--so close had been the possession, that for a time the natural powers could not operate when deprived of the presence of a force which had so long usurped, maltreated, and exhausted, while falsely sustaining them. The disciples, although they had already the power to cast out demons, could not cast this one out, and were surprised to find it so. There appears to me no absurdity, if we admit the demons at all, in admitting also that some had greater force than others, be it regarded as courage or obstinacy, or merely as grasp upon the captive mortal. In all these stories there is much of comfort both to the friends of those who are insane, and to those who are themselves aware of their own partial or occasional insanity. For such sorrow as that of Charles and Mary Lamb, walking together towards the asylum, when the hour had come for her to repair thither, is there not some assuagement here? It may be answered--We have no ground to hope for such cure now. I think we have; but if our faith will not reach so far, we may at least, like Athanasius, recognize the friendship of Death, for death is the divine cure of many ills. But we all need like healing. No man who does not yet love the truth with his whole being, who does not love God with all his heart and soul and strength and mind, and his neighbour as himself, is in his sound mind, or can act as a rational being, save more or less approximately. This is as true as it would be of us if possessed by other spirits than our own. Every word of unkindness, God help us! every unfair hard judgment, every trembling regard of the outward and fearless disregard of the inward life, is a siding with the spirit of evil against the spirit of good, with our lower and accidental selves, against our higher and essential--our true selves. These the spirit of good would set free from all possession but his own, for that is their original life. Out of us, too, the evil spirits can go by that prayer alone in which a man draws nigh to the Holy. Nor can we have any power over the evil spirit in others except in proportion as by such prayer we cast the evil spirit out of ourselves. VIII. THE RAISING OF THE DEAD. I linger on the threshold. How shall I enter the temple of this wonder? Through all ages men of all degrees and forms of religion have hoped at least for a continuance of life beyond its seeming extinction. Without such a hope, how could they have endured the existence they had? True, there are in our day men who profess unbelief in that future, and yet lead an enjoyable life, nor even say to themselves, "Let us eat and drink, for to-morrow we die;" but say instead, with nobleness, "Let us do what good we may, for there are men to come after us." Of all things let him who would be a Christian be fair to every man and every class of men. Before, however, I could be satisfied that I understood the mental condition of such, I should require a deeper insight than I possess in respect of other men. These, however numerous they seem in our day, would appear to be exceptions to the race. No doubt there have always been those who from absorption in the present and its pleasures, have not cared about the future, have not troubled themselves with the thought of it. Some of them would rather not think of it, because if there be such a future, they cannot be easy concerning their part in it; while others are simply occupied with the poor present--a present grand indeed if it be the part of an endless whole, but poor indeed if it stand alone. But here are thoughtful men, who say, "There is no more. Let us make the best of this." Nor is their notion of _best_ contemptible, although in the eyes of some of us, to whom the only worth of being lies in the hope of becoming that which, at the rate of present progress, must take ages to be realized, it is poor. I will venture one or two words on the matter. Their ideal does not approach the ideal of Christianity for _this_ life even. Before I can tell whether their words are a true representation of themselves, in relation to this future, I must know both their conscious and unconscious being. No wonder I should be loath to judge them. No poet of high rank, as far as I know, ever disbelieved in the future. He might fear that there was none; but that very fear is faith. The greatest poet of the present day believes with ardour. That it is not proven to the intellect, I heartily admit. But if it were true, it were such as the intellect could not grasp, for the understanding must be the offspring of the life--in itself essential. How should the intellect understand its own origin and nature? It is too poor to grasp this question; for the continuity of existence depends on the nature of existence, not upon external relations. If after death we should be conscious that we yet live, we shall even then, I think, be no more able to prove a further continuance of life, than we can now prove our present being. It may be easier to believe--that will be all. But we constantly act upon grounds which we cannot prove, and if we cannot feel so sure of life beyond the grave as of common every-day things, at least the want of proof ought neither to destroy our hope concerning it, nor prevent the action demanded by its bare possibility. But last, I do say this, that those men, who, disbelieving in a future state, do yet live up to the conscience within them, however much lower the requirements of that conscience may be than those of a conscience which believes itself enlightened from "the Lord, who is that spirit," shall enter the other life in an immeasurably more enviable relation thereto than those who say _Lord, Lord_, and do not the things he says to them. It may seem strange that our Lord says so little about the life to come--as we call it--though in truth it is one life with the present--as the leaf and the blossom are one life. Even in argument with the Sadducees he supports his side upon words accepted by them, and upon the nature of God, but says nothing of the question from a human point of regard. He seems always to have taken it for granted, ever turning the minds of his scholars towards that which was deeper and lay at its root--the life itself--the oneness with God and his will, upon which the continuance of our conscious being follows of a necessity, and without which if the latter were possible, it would be for human beings an utter evil. When he speaks of the world beyond, it is as _his Father's house_. He says there are many mansions there. He attempts in no way to explain. Man's own imagination enlightened of the spirit of truth, and working with his experience and affections, was a far safer guide than his intellect with the best schooling which even our Lord could have given it. The memory of the poorest home of a fisherman on the shore of the Galilean lake, where he as a child had spent his years of divine carelessness in his father's house, would, at the words of our Lord _my Father's house_, convey to Peter or James or John more truth concerning the many mansions than a revelation to their intellect, had it been possible, as clear as the Apocalypse itself is obscure. When he said "I have overcome the _world_" he had overcome the cause of all doubt, the belief in the outside appearances and not in the living truth: he left it to his followers to say, from their own experience knowing the thing, not merely from the belief of his resurrection, "He has conquered death and the grave. O Death, where is thy sting? O Grave, where is thy victory?" It is the inward life of truth that conquers the outward death of appearance; and nothing else, no revelation from without, could conquer it. These miracles of our Lord are the nearest we come to news of any kind concerning--I cannot say _from_--the other world. I except of course our Lord's own resurrection. Of that I shall yet speak as a miracle, for miracle it was, as certainly as any of our Lord's, whatever interpretation be put upon the word. And I say _the nearest to news we come_, because not one of those raised from the dead gives _us_ at least an atom of information. Is it possible they may have told their friends something which has filtered down to us in any shape? I turn to the cases on record. They are only three. The day after he cured the servant of the centurion at Capernaum, Jesus went to Nain, and as they approached the gate--but I cannot part the story from the lovely words in which it is told by St Luke: "There was a dead man carried out, the only son of his mother, and she was a widow; and much people of the city was with her. And when the Lord saw her, he had compassion on her, and said unto her, Weep not. And he came and touched the bier; and they that bare him stood still. And he said, Young man, I say unto thee, Arise. And he that was dead sat up, and began to speak. And he delivered him to his mother." In each of the cases there is an especial fitness in the miracle. This youth was the only son of a widow; the daughter of Jairus was his "one only daughter;" Lazarus was the brother of two orphan sisters. I will not attempt by any lingering over the simple details to render the record more impressive. That lingering ought to be on the part of the reader of the narrative itself. Friends crowded around a loss--the centre of the gathering that which _was not_--the sole presence the hopeless sign of a vanished treasure--an open gulf, as it were, down which love and tears and sad memories went plunging in a soundless cataract: the weeping mother--the dead man borne in the midst. They were going to the house of death, but Life was between them and it--was walking to meet them, although they knew it not. A face of tender pity looks down on the mother. She heeds him not. He goes up to the bier, and lays his hand on it. The bearers recognize authority, and stand. A word, and the dead sits up. A moment more, and he is in the arms of his mother. O mother! mother! wast thou more favoured than other mothers? Or was it that, for the sake of all mothers as well as thyself, thou wast made the type of the universal mother with the dead son--the raising of him but a foretaste of the one universal bliss of mothers with dead sons? That thou wert an exception would have ill met thy need, for thy motherhood could not be justified in thyself alone. It could not have its rights save on grounds universal. Thy motherhood was common to all thy sisters. To have helped thee by exceptional favour would not have been to acknowledge thy motherhood. That must go mourning still, even with thy restored son in its bosom, for its claims are universal or they _are_ not. Thou wast indeed a chosen one, but that thou mightest show to all the last fate of the mourning mother; for in God's dealings there are no exceptions. His laws are universal as he is infinite. Jesus wrought no new thing--only the works of the Father. What matters it that the dead come not back to us, if we go to them? _What matters it?_ said I! It is tenfold better. Dear as home is, he who loves it best must know that what he calls home is not home, is but a shadow of home, is but the open porch of home, where all the winds of the world rave by turns, and the glowing fire of the true home casts lovely gleams from within. Certainly this mother did not thus lose her son again. Doubtless next she died first, knowing then at last that she had only to wait. The dead must have their sorrow too, but when they find it is well with them, they can sit and wait by the mouth of the coming stream better than those can wait who see the going stream bear their loves down to the ocean of the unknown. The dead sit by the river-mouths of Time: the living mourn upon its higher banks. But for the joy of the mother, we cannot conceive it. No mother even who has lost her son, and hopes one blessed eternal day to find him again, can conceive her gladness. Had it been all a dream? A dream surely in this sense, that the final, which alone, in the full sense, is God's will, must ever cast the look of a dream over all that has gone before. When we last awake, we shall know that we dreamed. Even every honest judgment, feeling, hope, desire, will show itself a dream--with this difference from some dreams, that the waking is the more lovely, that nothing is lost, but everything gained, in the full blaze of restored completeness. How triumphant would this mother die, when her turn came! And how calmly would the restored son go about the duties of the world. [Footnote:11 Those who can take the trouble, and are capable of understanding it, will do well to study Robert Browning's "Epistle of an Arab Physician."] He sat up and began to speak. It is vain to look into that which God has hidden; for surely it is by no chance that we are left thus in the dark. "He began to speak." Why does not the Evangelist go on to give us some hint of what he said? Would not the hearts of mothers, fathers, sisters, brothers, wives, children, husbands--who shall say where the divine madness of love will cease?--grandfathers, grandmothers--themselves with flickering flame--yes, grandchildren, weeping over the loss of the beloved gray head and tremulously gentle voice--would not all these have blessed God for St Luke's record of what the son of the widow said? For my part, I thank God he was silent. When I think of the pictures of heaven drawn from the attempt of prophecy to utter its visions in the poor forms of the glory of earth, I see it better that we should walk by faith, and not by a fancied sight. I judge that the region beyond is so different from ours, so comprising in one surpassing excellence all the goods of ours, that any attempt of the had-been-dead to describe it, would have resulted in the most wretched of misconceptions. Such might please the lower conditions of Christian development--but so much the worse, for they could not fail to obstruct its further growth. It is well that St Luke is silent; or that the mother and the friends who stood by the bier, heard the words of the returning spirit only as the babble of a child from which they could draw no definite meaning, and to which they could respond only by caresses. The story of the daughter of Jairus is recorded briefly by St Matthew, more fully by St Luke, most fully by St Mark. One of the rulers of the synagogue at Capernaum falls at the feet of our Lord, saying his little daughter is at the point of death. She was about twelve years of age. He begs the Lord to lay his hands on her that she may live. Our Lord goes with him, followed by many people. On his way to restore the child he is arrested by a touch. He makes no haste to outstrip death. We can imagine the impatience of the father when the Lord stood and asked who touched him. What did that matter? his daughter was dying; Death would not wait. But the woman's heart and soul must not be passed by. The father with the only daughter must wait yet a little. The will of God cannot be outstripped. "While he yet spake, there came from the ruler of the synagogue's house certain which said, Thy daughter is dead: why troublest thou the Master any further?" "Ah! I thought so! There it is! Death has won the race!" we may suppose the father to say--bitterly within himself. But Jesus, while he tried the faith of men, never tried it without feeding its strength. With the trial he always gives the way of escape. "As soon as Jesus heard the word that was spoken"--not leaving it to work its agony of despair first--"he saith unto the ruler of the synagogue, Be not afraid; only believe." They are such simple words--commonplace in the ears of those who have heard them often and heeded them little! but containing more for this man's peace than all the consolations of philosophy, than all the enforcements of morality; yea, even than the raising of his daughter itself. To arouse the higher, the hopeful, the trusting nature of a man; to cause him to look up into the unknown region of mysterious possibilities--the God so poorly known--is to do infinitely more for a man than to remove the pressure of the direst evil without it. I will go further: To arouse the hope that there may be a God with a heart like our own is more for the humanity in us than to produce the absolute conviction that there is a being who made the heaven and the earth and the sea and the fountains of waters. Jesus is the express image of God's substance, and in him we know the heart of God. To nourish faith in himself was the best thing he could do for the man. We hear of no word from the ruler further. If he answered not our Lord in words, it is no wonder. The compressed lip and the uplifted eye would say more than any words to the heart of the Saviour. Now it would appear that he stopped the crowd and would let them go no farther. They could not all see, and he did not wish them to see. It was not good for men to see too many miracles. They would feast their eyes, and then cease to wonder or think. The miracle, which would be all, and quite dissociated from religion, with many of them, would cease to be wonderful, would become a common thing with most. Yea, some would cease to believe that it had been. They would say she did sleep after all--she was not dead. A wonder is a poor thing for faith after all; and the miracle could be only a wonder in the eyes of those who had not prayed for it, and could not give thanks for it; who did not feel that in it they were partakers of the love of God. Jesus must have hated anything like display. God's greatest work has never been done in crowds, but in closets; and when it works out from thence, it is not upon crowds, but upon individuals. A crowd is not a divine thing. It is not a body. Its atoms are not members one of another. A crowd is a chaos over which the Spirit of God has yet to move, ere each retires to his place to begin his harmonious work, and unite with all the rest in the organized chorus of the human creation. The crowd must be dispersed that the church may be formed. The relation of the crowd to the miracle is rightly reflected in what came to the friends of the house. To them, weeping and wailing greatly, after the Eastern fashion, he said when he entered, "Why make ye this ado, and weep? The damsel is not dead, but sleepeth." They laughed him to scorn. He put them all out. But what did our Lord mean by those words--"The damsel is not dead, but sleepeth"? Not certainly that, as we regard the difference between death and sleep, his words were to be taken literally; not that she was only in a state of coma or lethargy; not even that it was a case of suspended animation as in catalepsy; for the whole narrative evidently intends us to believe that she was dead after the fashion we call death. That this was not to be dead after the fashion our Lord called death, is a blessed and lovely fact. Neither can it mean, that she was not dead as others, in that he was going to wake her so soon; for they did not know that, and therefore it could give no ground for the expostulation, "Why make ye this ado, and weep?" Nor yet could it come only from the fact that to his eyes death and sleep were so alike, the one needing the power of God for awaking just as much as the other. True they must be more alike in his eyes than even in the eyes of the many poets who have written of "Death and his brother Sleep;" but he sees the differences none the less clearly, and how they look to us, and his knowledge could be no reason for reproaching our ignorance. The explanation seems to me large and simple. These people professed to believe in the resurrection of the dead, and did believe after some feeble fashion. They were not Sadducees, for they were the friends of a ruler of the synagogue. Our Lord did not bring the news of resurrection to the world: that had been believed, in varying degrees, by all peoples and nations from the first: the resurrection he taught was a far deeper thing--the resurrection from dead works to serve the living and true God. But as with the greater number even of Christians, although it was part of their creed, and had some influence upon their moral and spiritual condition, their practical faith in the resurrection of the body was a poor affair. In the moment of loss and grief, they thought little about it. They lived then in the present almost alone; they were not saved by hope. The reproach therefore of our Lord was simply that they did not take from their own creed the consolation they ought. If the child was to be one day restored to them, then she was not dead as their tears and lamentations would imply. Any one of themselves who believed in God and the prophets, might have stood up and said--"Mourners, why make such ado? The maid is not dead, but sleepeth. You shall again clasp her to your bosom. Hope, and fear not--only believe." It was in this sense, I think, that our Lord spoke. But it may not at first appear how much grander the miracle itself appears in the light of this simple interpretation of the Master's words. The sequel stands in the same relation to the words as if--turning into the death-chamber, and bringing the maid out by the hand--he had said to them: "See--I told you she was not dead but sleeping." The words apply to all death, just as much as to that in which this girl lay. The Lord brings his assurance, his knowledge of what we do not know, to feed our feeble faith. It is as if he told us that our notion of death is all wrong, that there is no such thing as we think it; that we should be nearer the truth if we denied it altogether, and gave to what we now call death the name of sleep, for it is but a passing appearance, and no right cause of such misery as we manifest in its presence. I think it was from this word of our Lord, and from the same utterance in the case of Lazarus, that St Paul so often uses the word sleep for die and for death. Indeed the notion of death, as we feel it, seems to have vanished entirely from St Paul's mind--he speaks of things so in a continuity, not even referring to the change--not even saying before death or after death, as if death made no atom of difference in the progress of holy events, the divine history of the individual and of the race together. In a word, when he raised the dead, the Son did neither more nor less nor other than the work of the Father--what he is always doing; he only made it manifest a little sooner to the eyes and hearts of men. But they to whom he spoke laughed him to scorn. They knew she was dead, and their unfaithfulness blinded their hearts to what he meant. They were unfit to behold the proof of what he had said. Such as they, in such mood, could gather from it no benefit. A faithful heart alone is capable of understanding the proof of the truest things. It is faith towards God which alone can lay hold of any of his facts. There is a foregoing fitness. Therefore he put them all out. But the father and mother, whose love and sorrow made them more easily persuaded of mighty things, more accessible to holy influences, and the three disciples, whose faith rendered them fit to behold otherwise dangerous wonders, he took with him into the chamber where the damsel lay--dead toward men--sleeping toward God. Dead as she was, she only slept. "Damsel, I say unto thee, arise." "And her spirit came again," "and straightway the damsel arose and walked," "and he commanded to give her meat." For in the joy of her restoration, they might forget that the more complete the health of a worn and exhausted body, the more needful was food--food which, in all its commonness, might well support the miracle; for not only did it follow by the next word to that which had wrought the miracle, but it worked in perfect harmony with the law which took shape in this resurrection, and in its relations to the human being involved no whit less marvel than lay in the miracle itself. The raising of the dead and the feeding of the living are both and equally divine--therefore in utter harmony. And we do not any more understand the power in the body which takes to itself that food, than we understand the power going out from Jesus to make this girl's body capable of again employing its ministrations. They are both of one and must be perfect in harmony, the one as much the outcome of law as the other. He charges the parents to be silent, it may be for his sake, who did not want to be made a mere wonder of, but more probably for their sakes, that the holy thing might not evaporate in speech, or be defiled with foolish talk and the glorification of self-importance in those for whom a mighty wonder had been done; but that in silence the seed might take root in their hearts and bring forth living fruit in humility, and uprightness, and faith. And now for the wonderful story of Lazarus. In this miracle one might think the desire of Jesus for his friend's presence through his own coming trouble, might have had a share, were it not that we never find him working a miracle for himself. He knew the perfect will of the Father, and left all to him. Those who cannot know that will and do not care for it, have to fall into trouble that they may know God as the Saviour from their own doings--as the fountain of all their well-being. This Jesus had not to learn, and therefore could need no miracle wrought for him. Even his resurrection was all for others. That miracle was wrought in, not for him. He knew Lazarus was dying. He abode where he was and let him die. For a hard and therefore precious lesson for sisters and friends lay in that death, and the more the love the more precious the lesson--the same that lies in every death; and the end the same for all who love--resurrection. The raising of Lazarus is the type of the raising of all the dead. Of Lazarus, as of the daughter of Jairus, he said "he sleepeth; but I go that I may awake him out of sleep." He slept as every dead man sleeps. Read the story. Try to think not only what the disciples felt, but what Jesus was thinking; how he, who saw the other side, regarded the death he was about to destroy. "Lord, if thou hadst been here," said Martha, "my brother had not died." Did she mean to hint what she had not faith enough to ask? "Thy brother shall rise again," said the Lord. But her faith was so weak that she took little comfort from the assurance. Alas! she knew what it meant. She knew all about it. He spoke of the general far-off resurrection, which to her was a very little thing. It was true he should rise again; but what was that to the present consuming grief? A thousand years might be to God as one day, but to Martha the one day was a thousand years. It is only to him who entirely believes in God that the thousand years become one day also. For he that believes shares in the vision of him in whom he believes. It is through such faith that Jesus would help her--far beyond the present awful need. He seeks to raise her confidence in himself by the strongest assertions of the might that was in him. "I am the resurrection and the life: he that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live!" The death of not believing in God--the God revealed in Jesus--is the only death. The other is nowhere but in the fears and fancies of unbelief. "And whosoever liveth and believeth in me shall never die." There is for him nothing to be called death; nothing that is what death looks to us. "Believest thou this?" Martha was an honest woman. She did not fully understand what he meant. She could not, therefore, do more than assent to it. But she believed in him, and that much she could tell him plainly. "Yea, Lord: I believe that thou art the Christ, the Son of God, which should come into the world." And that hope with the confession arose in her heart, she gave the loveliest sign: she went and called her sister. But even in the profounder Mary faith reached only to the words of her sister: "Lord, if thou hadst been here, my brother had not died." When he saw her trouble, and that of the Jews with her, he was troubled likewise. But why? The purest sympathy with what was about to vanish would not surely make him groan in his spirit. Why, then, this trouble in our Lord's heart? We have a right, yea, a duty, to understand it if we can, for he showed it. I think it was caused by an invading sense of the general misery of poor humanity from the lack of that faith in the Father without which he, the Son, could do, or endure, nothing. If the Father ceased the Son must cease. It was the darkness between God and his creatures that gave room for and was filled with their weeping and wailing over their dead. To them death must appear an unmitigated and irremediable evil. How frightful to feel as they felt! to see death as they saw it! Nothing could help their misery but that faith in the infinite love which he had come to bring them; but how hard it was to persuade them to receive it! And how many weeping generations of loving hearts must follow! His Father was indeed with them all, but how slowly and painfully would each learn the one precious fact! "Where have ye laid him?" he asked. "Lord, come and see," they answered, in such mournful accents of human misery that he wept with them. They come to the grave. "Take ye away the stone." "Lord, by this time he stinketh, for he hath been dead four days," said she who believed in the Resurrection and the Life! They are the saddest of sad words. I hardly know how to utter the feeling they raise. In all the relations of mortality to immortality, of body to soul, there are painful and even ugly things, things to which, by common consent, we refer only upon dire necessity, and with a sense of shame. Happy they in whom the mortal has put on immortality! Decay and its accompaniments, all that makes the most beloved of the _appearances_ of God's creation a terror, compelling us to call to the earth for succour, and pray her to take our dead out of our sight, to receive her own back into her bosom, and unmake in secret darkness that which was the glory of the light in our eyes--this was upper-most with Martha, even in the presence of him to whom Death was but a slave to come and go at his will. Careful of his feelings, of the shock to his senses, she would oppose his will. For the dead brother's sake also, that he should not be dishonoured in his privacy, she would not have had that stone removed. But had it been as Martha feared, who so tender with feeble flesh as the Son of Man? Who so unready to impute the shame it could not help? Who less fastidious over the painful working of the laws of his own world? Entire affection hateth nicer hands. And at the worst, what was decay to him, who could recall the disuniting atoms under the restored law of imperial life? "Said I not unto thee, that if thou wouldest believe, thou shouldest see the glory of God?" Again I say _the essential_ glory of God who raises all the dead, not merely _an exceptional_ glory of God in raising this one dead man. They should see not corruption but glory. No evil odour of dissolution should assail them, but glowing life should spring from the place of the dead; light should be born from the very bosom of the darkness. They took away the friendly stone. Then Jesus spoke, not to the dead man, but to the living Father. The men and women about him must know it as the Father's work. "And Jesus lifted up his eyes, and said, Father, I thank thee that thou hast heard me. And I knew that thou hearest me always: but because of the people which stand by I said it, that they may believe that thou hast sent me." So might they believe that the work was God's, that he was doing the will of God, and that they might trust in the God whose will was such as this. He claimed the presence of God in what he did, that by the open claim and the mighty deed following it they might see that the Father justified what the Son said, and might receive him and all that he did as the manifestation of the Father. And now-- "Lazarus, come forth." Slow toiling, with hand and foot bound in the grave clothes, he that had been dead struggled forth to the light. What an awful moment! When did ever corruption and glory meet and embrace as now! Oh! what ready hands, eager almost to helplessness, were stretched trembling towards the feeble man returning from his strange journey, to seize and carry him into the day--their poor day, which they thought _all_ the day, forgetful of that higher day which for their sakes he had left behind, content to walk in moonlight a little longer, gladdened by the embraces of his sisters, and--perhaps--I do not know--comforting their hearts with news of the heavenly regions! Joy of all joys! The dead come back! Is it any wonder that this Mary should spend three hundred pence on an ointment for the feet of the Raiser of the Dead? I doubt if he told them anything? I do not think he could make even his own flesh and blood--of woman-kind, quick to understand--know the things he had seen and heard and felt. All that can be said concerning this, is thus said by our beloved brother Tennyson in his book _In Memoriam_: 'Where wert thou, brother, those four days?' There lives no record of reply, Which telling what it is to die, Had surely added praise to praise. Behold a man raised up by Christ! The rest remaineth unrevealed; He told it not; or something sealed The lips of that Evangelist. Why are we left in such ignorance? Without the raising of the dead, without the rising of the Saviour himself, Christianity would not have given what it could of _hope_ for the future. Hope is not faith, but neither is faith sight; and if we have hope we are not miserable men. But Christianity must not, could not interfere with the discipline needful for its own fulfilment, could not depose the schoolmaster that leads unto Christ. One main doubt and terror which drives men towards the revelation in Jesus, is this strange thing Death. How shall any man imagine he is complete in himself, and can do without a Father in heaven, when he knows that he knows neither the mystery whence he sprung by birth, nor the mystery to which he goes by death? God has given us room away from himself as Robert Browning says:-- ..."God, whose pleasure brought Man into being, stands away, As it were, an hand-breadth off, to give Room for the newly-made to live, And look at Him from a place apart, And use His gifts of brain and heart"-- and this room, in its time-symbol, is bounded by darkness on the one hand, and darkness on the other. Whence I came and whither I go are dark: how can I live in peace without the God who ordered it thus? Faith is my only refuge--an absolute belief in a being so much beyond myself, that he can do all for this _me_ with utter satisfaction to this _me_, protecting all its rights, jealously as his own from which they spring, that he may make me at last one with himself who is my deeper self, inasmuch as his thought of me is my life. And not to know him, even if I could go on living and happy without him, is death. It may be said, "Why all this? Why not go on like a brave man to meet your fate, careless of what that fate may be?" "But what if this fate _should_ depend on myself? Am I to be careless then?" I answer. "The fate is so uncertain! If it be annihilation, why quail before it? Cowardice at least is contemptible." "Is not indifference more contemptible? That one who has once thought should not care to go on to think? That this glory should perish--is it no grief? Is life not a good with all its pain? Ought one to be willing to part with a good? Ought he not to cleave fast thereto? Have you never grudged the coming sleep, because you must cease for the time to _be_ so much as you were before? For my part, I think the man who can go to sleep without faith in God has yet to learn what being is. He who knows not God cannot, however, have much to lose in losing being. And yet--and yet--did he never love man or woman or child? Is he content that there should be no more of it? Above all, is he content to go on with man and woman and child now, careless of whether the love is a perishable thing? If it be, why does he not kill himself, seeing it is all a lie--a false appearance of a thing too glorious to be fact, but for which our best nature calls aloud--and cannot have it? If one knew for certain that there was no life beyond this, then the noble thing would be to make the best of this, yea even then to try after such things as are written in the Gospel as we call it--for they _are_ the noblest. That I am sure of, whatever I may doubt. But not to be sure of annihilation, and yet choose it to be true, and act as if it were true, seems to me to indicate a nature at strife with immortality--bound for the dust by its own choice--of the earth, and returning to the dust." The man will say, "That is yielding everything. Let us eat and drink, for to-morrow we die. I am of the dust, for I believe in nothing beyond." "No," I return. "I recognize another law in myself which seems to me infinitely higher. And I think that law is in you also, although you are at strife with it, and will revive in you to your blessed discontent. By that I will walk, and not by yours--a law which bids me strive after what I am not but may become--a law in me striving against the law of sin and down-dragging decay--a law which is one with my will, and, if true, must of all things make one at last. If I am made to live I ought not to be willing to cease. This unwillingness to cease--above all, this unwillingness to cease to love my own, the fore-front to me of my all men--may be in me the sign, may _well_ be in me the sign that I am made to live. Above all to pass away without the possibility of making reparation to those whom I have wronged, with no chance of saying _I am sorry--what shall I do for you? Grant me some means of delivering myself from this burden of wrong_--seems to me frightful. No God to help one to be good now! no God who cares whether one is good or not! if a God, then one who will not give his creature time enough to grow good, even if he is growing better, but will blot him out like a rain-drop! Great God, forbid--if thou art. If thou art not, then this, like all other prayers, goes echoing through the soulless vaults of a waste universe, from the thought of which its peoples recoil in horror. Death, then, is genial, soul-begetting, and love-creating; and Life is nowhere, save in the imaginations of the children of the grave. Whence, then, oh! whence came those their imaginations? Death, thou art not my father! Grave, thou art not my mother! I come of another kind, nor shall ye usurp dominion over me." What better sign of immortality than the raising of the dead could God give? He cannot, however, be always raising the dead before our eyes; for then the holiness of death's ends would be a failure. We need death; only it shall be undone once and again for a time, that we may know it is not what it seems to us. I have already said that probably we are not capable of being told in words what the other world is. But even the very report through the ages that the dead came back, as their friends had known them, with the old love unlost in the grave, with the same face to smile and bless, is precious indeed. That they remain the same in all that made them lovely, is the one priceless fact--if we may but hope in it as a fact. That we shall behold, and clasp, and love them again follows of simple necessity. We cannot be sure of the report as if it were done before our own eyes, yet what a hope it gives even to him whose honesty and his faith together make him, like Martha, refrain speech, not daring to say _I believe_ of all that is reported! I think such a one will one day be able to believe more than he even knows how to desire. For faith in Jesus will well make up for the lack of the sight of the miracle. Does God, then, make death look what it is not? Why not let it appear what it is, and prevent us from forming false judgments of it? It is our low faithlessness that makes us misjudge it, and nothing but faith could make us judge it aright. And that, while in faithlessness, we should thus misjudge it, is well. In what it appears to us, it is a type of what we are without God. But there is no falsehood in it. The dust must go back to the dust. He who believes in the body more than in the soul, cleaves to this aspect of death: he who believes in thought, in mind, in love, in truth, can see the other side--can rejoice over the bursting shell which allows the young oak to creep from its kernel-prison. The lower is true, but the higher overcomes and absorbs it. "When that which is perfect is come, then that which is in part shall be done away." When the spirit of death is seen, the body of death vanishes from us. Death is God's angel of birth. We fear him. The dying stretches out loving hands of hope towards him. I do not believe that death is to the dying the dreadful thing it looks to the beholders. I think it is more like what the spirit may then be able to remember of its own birth as a child into this lower world, this porch of the heavenly. How will he love his mother then! and all humanity in her, and God who gave her, and God who gives her back! The future lies dark before us, with an infinite hope in the darkness. To be at peace concerning it on any other ground than the love of God, would be an absolute loss. Better fear and hope and prayer, than knowledge and peace without the prayer. To sum up: An express revelation in words would probably be little intelligible. In Christ we have an ever-growing revelation. He is the resurrection and the life. As we know him we know our future. In our ignorance lies a force of need, compelling us towards God. In our ignorance likewise lies the room for the development of the simple will, as well as the necessity for arousing it. Hence this ignorance is but the shell of faith. In this, as in all his miracles, our Lord _shows_ in one instance what his Father is ever doing without showing it. Even the report of this is the best news we can have from the _other_ world--as we call it. IX. THE GOVERNMENT OF NATURE. The miracles I include in this class are the following:-- 1. The turning of water into wine, already treated of, given by St John. 2. The draught of fishes, given by St Luke. 3. The draught of fishes, given by St John. 4 The feeding of the four thousand, given by St Matthew and St Mark. 5. The feeding of the five thousand, recorded by all the Evangelists. 6. The walking on the sea, given by St Matthew, St Mark, and St John. 7. The stilling of the storm, given by St Matthew, St Mark, and St Luke. 8. The fish bringing the piece of money, told by St Matthew alone. These miracles, in common with those already considered, have for their end the help or deliverance of man. They differ from those, however, in operating mediately, through a change upon external things, and not at once on their human objects. But besides the fact that they have to do with what we call nature, they would form a class on another ground. In those cases of disease, the miracles are for the setting right of what has gone wrong, the restoration of the order of things,--namely, of the original condition of humanity. No doubt it is a law of nature that where there is sin there should be suffering; but even its cure helps to restore that righteousness which is highest nature; for the cure of suffering must not be confounded with the absence of suffering. But the miracles of which I have now to speak, show themselves as interfering with what we may call the righteous laws of nature. Water should wet the foot, should ingulf him who would tread its surface. Bread should come from the oven last, from the field first. Fishes should be now here now there, according to laws ill understood of men--nay, possibly according to a piscine choice quite unknown of men. Wine should take ripening in the grape and in the bottle. In all these cases it is otherwise. Yet even in these, I think, the restoration of an original law--the supremacy of righteous man, is foreshown. While a man cannot order his own house as he would, something is wrong in him, and therefore in his house. I think a true man should be able to rule winds and waters and loaves and fishes, for he comes of the Father who made the house for him. Had Jesus not been capable of these things, he might have been the best of men, but either he could not have been a perfect man, or the perfect God, if such there were, was not in harmony with the perfect man. Man is not master in his own house because he is not master in himself, because he is not a law unto himself--is not himself obedient to the law by which he exists. Harmony, that is law, alone is power. Discord is weakness. God alone is perfect, living, self-existent law. I will try, in a few words, to give the ground on which I find it possible to accept these miracles. I cannot lay it down as for any other man. I do not wonder at most of those to whom the miracles are a stumbling-block. I do a little wonder at those who can believe in Christ and yet find them a stumbling-block. How God creates, no man can tell. But as man is made in God's image, he may think about God's work, and dim analogies may arise out of the depth of his nature which have some resemblance to the way in which God works. I say then, that, as we are the offspring of God--the children of his will, like as the thoughts move in a man's mind, we live in God's mind. When God thinks anything, then that thing _is_. His thought of it is its life. Everything is because God thinks it into being. Can it then be very hard to believe that he should alter by a thought any form or appearance of things about us? "It is inconsistent to work otherwise than by law." True; but we know so little of this law that we cannot say what is essential in it, and what only the so far irregular consequence of the unnatural condition of those for whom it was made, but who have not yet willed God's harmony. We know so little of law that we cannot certainly say what would be an infringement of this or that law. That which at first sight appears as such, may be but the operating of a higher law which rightly dominates the other. It is the law, as we call it, that a stone should fall to the ground. A man may place his hand beneath the stone, and then, _if his hand be strong enough_, it is the law that the stone shall not fall to the ground. The law has been lawfully prevented from working its full end. In similar ways, God might stop the working of one law by the intervention of another. Such intervention, if not understood by us, would be what we call a miracle. Possibly a different condition of the earth, producible according to law, might cause everything to fly off from its surface instead of seeking it. The question is whether or not we can believe that the usual laws might be set aside by laws including higher principles and wider operations. All I have to answer is--Give me good reason, and I can. A man may say--"What seems good reason to you, does not to me." I answer, "We are both accountable to that being, if such there be, who has lighted in us the candle of judgment. To him alone we stand or fall. But there must be a final way of right, towards which every willing heart is led,--and which no one can find who does not seek it." All I want to show here, is a conceivable region in which a miracle might take place without any violence done to the order of things. Our power of belief depends greatly on our power of imagining a region in which the things might be. I do not see how some people _could_ believe what to others may offer small difficulty. Let us beware lest what we call faith be but the mere assent of a mind which has cared and thought so little about the objects of its so-called faith, that it has never seen the difficulties they involve. Some such believers are the worst antagonists of true faith--the children of the Pharisees of old. If any one say we ought to receive nothing of which we have no experience; I answer, there is in me a necessity, a desire before which all my experience shrivels into a mockery. Its complement must lie beyond. We ought, I grant, to accept nothing for which we cannot see the probability of some sufficient reason, but I thank God that this sufficient reason is not for me limited to the realm of experience. To suppose that it was, would change the hope of a life that might be an ever-burning sacrifice of thanksgiving, into a poor struggle with events and things and chances--to doom the Psyche to perpetual imprisonment in the worm. I desire the higher; I care not to live for the lower. The one would make me despise my fellows and recoil with disgust from a self I cannot annihilate; the other fills me with humility, hope, and love. Is the preference for the one over the other foolish then--even to the meanest judgment? A higher condition of harmony with law, may one day enable us to do things which must now _appear_ an interruption of law. I believe it is in virtue of the absolute harmony in him, his perfect righteousness, that God can create at all. If man were in harmony with this, if he too were righteous, he would inherit of his Father a something in his degree correspondent to the creative power in Him; and the world he inhabits, which is but an extension of his body, would, I think, be subject to him in a way surpassing his wildest dreams of dominion, for it would be the perfect dominion of holy law--a virtue flowing to and from him through the channel of a perfect obedience. I suspect that our Lord in all his dominion over nature, set forth only the complete man--man as God means him one day to be. Why should he not know where the fishes were? or even make them come at his will? Why should not that will be potent as impulse in them? If we admit what I hail as the only fundamental idea upon which I can speculate harmoniously with facts, and as alone disclosing regions wherein contradictions are soluble, and doubts previsions of loftier truth--I mean the doctrine of the Incarnation; or if even we admit that Jesus was good beyond any other goodness we know, why should it not seem possible that the whole region of inferior things might be more subject to him than to us? And if more, why not altogether? I believe that some of these miracles were the natural result of a physical nature perfect from the indwelling of a perfect soul, whose unity with the Life of all things and in all things was absolute--in a word, whose sonship was perfect. If in the human form God thus visited his people, he would naturally show himself Lord over their circumstances. He will not lord it over their minds, for such lordship is to him abhorrent: they themselves must see and rejoice in acknowledging the lordship which makes them free. There was no grand display, only the simple doing of what at the time was needful. Some say it is a higher thing to believe of him that he took things just as they were, and led the revealing life without the aid of wonders. On any theory this is just what he did as far as his own life was concerned. But he had no ambition to show himself the best of men. He comes to reveal the Father. He will work even wonders to that end, for the sake of those who could not believe as he did and had to be taught it. No miracle was needful for himself: he saw the root of the matter--the care of God. But he revealed this root in a few rare and hastened flowers to the eyes that could not see to the root. There is perfect submission to lower law for himself, but revelation of the Father to them by the introduction of higher laws operating in the upper regions bordering upon ours, not separated from ours by any impassable gulf--rather connected by gently ascending stairs, many of whose gradations he could blend in one descent. He revealed the Father as being _under_ no law, but as law itself, and the cause of the laws we know--the cause of all harmony because himself _the_ harmony. Men had to be delivered not only from the fear of suffering and death, but from the fear, which is a kind of worship, of nature. Nature herself must be shown subject to the Father and to him whom the Father had sent. Men must believe in the great works of the Father through the little works of the Son: all that he showed was little to what God was doing. They had to be helped to see that it was God who did such things as often as they were done. He it is who causes the corn to grow for man. He gives every fish that a man eats. Even if things are terrible yet they are God's, and the Lord will still the storm for their faith in Him--tame a storm, as a man might tame a wild beast--for his Father measures the waters in the hollow of his hand, and men are miserable not to know it. For himself, I repeat, his faith is enough; he sleeps on his pillow nor dreams of perishing. On the individual miracles of this class, I have not much to say. The first of them was wrought in the animal kingdom. He was teaching on the shore of the lake, and the people crowded him. That he might speak with more freedom, he stepped into an empty boat, and having prayed Simon the owner of it, who was washing his nets near by, to thrust it a little from the shore, sat down, and no longer incommoded by the eagerness of his audience, taught them from the boat. When he had ended he told Simon to launch out into the deep, and let down his nets for a draught. Simon had little hope of success, for there had been no fish there all night; but he obeyed, and caught such a multitude of fishes that the net broke. They had to call another boat to their aid, and both began to sink from the overload of fishes. But the great marvel of it wrought on the mind of Simon as every wonder tends to operate on the mind of an honest man: it brought his sinfulness before him. In self-abasement he fell down at Jesus' knees. Whether he thought of any individual sins at the moment, we cannot tell; but he was painfully dissatisfied with himself. He knew he was not what he ought to be. I am unwilling however to believe that such a man desired, save, it may be, as a passing involuntary result of distress, to be rid of the holy presence. I judge rather that his feeling was like that of the centurion--that he felt himself unworthy to have the Lord in his boat. He may have feared that the Lord took him for a good man, and his honesty could not endure such a mistake: "Depart from me, for I am a sinful man, O Lord." The Lord accepted the spirit, therefore _not_ the word of his prayer. "Fear not; from henceforth thou shalt catch men." His sense of sinfulness, so far from driving the Lord from him, should draw other men to him. As soon as that cry broke from his lips, he had become fit to be a fisher of men. He had begun to abjure that which separated man from man. After his resurrection, St John tells us the Lord appeared one morning, on the shore of the lake, to some of his disciples, who had again been toiling all night in vain. He told them once more how to cast their net, and they were not able to draw it for the multitude of fishes. "It is the Lord," said St John, purer-hearted, perhaps therefore keener-eyed, than the rest. Since the same thing had occurred before, Simon had become the fisher of men, but had sinned grievously against his Lord. He knew that Lord so much better now, however, that when he heard it was he, instead of crying _Depart from me_, he cast himself into the sea to go to him. I take next the feeding of the four thousand with the seven loaves and the few little fishes, and the feeding of the five thousand with the five loaves and the two fishes. Concerning these miracles, I think I have already said almost all I have to say. If he was the Son of God, the bread might as well grow in his hands as the corn in the fields. It is, I repeat, only a doing in condensed form, hence one more easily associated with its real source, of that which God is for ever doing more widely, more slowly, and with more detail both of fundamental wonder and of circumstantial loveliness. Whence more fittingly might food come than from the hands of such an elder brother? No doubt there will always be men who cannot believe it:--happy are they who demand a good reason, and yet can believe a wonder! Associated with words which appeared to me foolish, untrue, or even poor in their content, I should not believe it. Associated with such things as he spoke, I can receive it with ease, and I cherish it with rejoicing. It must be noted in respect of the feeding of the five thousand, that while the other evangelists merely relate the deed as done for the necessities of the multitude, St John records also the use our Lord made of the miracle. It was the outcome of his essential relation to humanity. Of humanity he was ever the sustaining food. To humanity he was about to give himself in an act of such utter devotion as could only be shadowed--now in the spoken, afterwards in the acted symbol of the eucharist. The miracle was a type of his life as the life of the world, a sign that from him flows all the weal of his creatures. The bread we eat is but its outer husk: the true bread is the Lord himself, to have whom in us is eternal life. "Except ye eat the flesh of the Son of man and drink his blood ye have no life in you." He knew that the grand figure would disclose to the meditation of the loving heart infinitely more of the truth of the matter than any possible amount of definition and explanation, and yet must ever remain far short of setting forth the holy fact to the boldest and humblest mind. But lest they should start upon a wrong track for the interpretation of it, he says to his disciples afterwards, that this body of his should return to God; that what he had said concerning the eating of it had a spiritual sense: "It is the spirit that giveth life; the flesh profiteth nothing"--for that. In words he contradicts what he said before, that they might see the words to have meant infinitely more than as words they were able to express; that not their bodies on his body, but their souls must live on his soul, by a union and communion of which the eating of his flesh and the drinking of his blood was, after all, but a poor and faint figure. In this miracle, for the souls as for the bodies of men, he did and revealed the work of the Father. He who has once understood the meaning of Christ's words in connection with this miracle, can never be content they should be less than true concerning his Father in heaven. Whoever would have a perfect Father, must believe that he bestows his very being for the daily food of his creatures. He who loves the glory of God will be very jealous of any word that would enhance his greatness by representing him incapable of suffering. Verily God has taken and will ever take and endure his share, his largest share of that suffering in and through which the whole creation groans for the sonship. Follows at once the equally wonderful story of his walking on the sea to the help of his disciples. After the former miracle, the multitude would have taken him by force to make him their king. Any kind of honour they would readily give him except that obedience for the truth's sake which was all he cared for. He left them and went away into a mountain alone to pray to his Father. Likely he was weary in body, and also worn in spirit for lack of that finer sympathy which his disciples could not give him being very earthly yet. He who loves his fellows and labours among those who can ill understand him will best know what this weariness of our Lord must have been like. He had to endure the world-pressure of surrounding humanity in all its ungodlike phases. Hence even he, the everlasting Son of the Father, found it needful to retire for silence and room and comfort into solitary places. There his senses would be free, and his soul could the better commune with the Father. The mountain-top was his chamber, the solitude around him its closed door, the evening sky over his head its open window. There he gathered strength from the will of the Father for what yet remained to be done for the world's redemption. How little could the men below, who would have taken him by force and made him a king, understand of such communion! Yet every one of them must go hungering and thirsting and grasping in vain, until the door of that communion was opened for him. They would have made him a king: he would make them poor in spirit, mighty in aspiration, all kings and priests unto God. But amidst his prayer, amidst the eternal calm of his rapturous communion, he saw his disciples thwarted by a wind stronger than all their rowing: he descended the hill and walked forth on the water to their help. If ignorant yet devout speculation may be borne with here, I venture to say that I think the change of some kind that was necessary somehow before the body of the Son of Man could, like the Spirit of old, move upon the face of the waters, passed, not upon the water, but, by the will of the Son of Man himself, upon his own body. I shall have more to say concerning this in a following chapter--now I merely add that we know nothing yet, or next to nothing, of the relation between a right soul and a healthy body. To some no doubt the notion of a healthy body implies chiefly a perfection of all the animal functions, which is, on the supposition, a matter of course; but what I should mean by an absolutely healthy body is, one entirely under the indwelling spirit, and responsive immediately to all the laws of its supremacy, whatever those laws may be in the divine ideal of a man. As we are now, we find the diseased body tyrannizing over the almost helpless mind: the healthy body would be the absolutely obedient body. What power over his own dwelling a Saviour coming fresh from the closest speech with him who made that body for holy subjection, might have, who can tell! If I hear of any reasonable wonder resulting therefrom, I shall not find it hard to believe, and shall be willing to wait until I, pure, inhabit an obedient house, to understand the plain thing which is now a mystery. Meantime I can honour the laws I do know, and which honest men tell me they have discovered, no less than those honest men who--without my impulse, it may be, to speculate in this direction--think such as I foolish in employing the constructive faculty with regard to these things. But where, I pray them, lies any field so absolutely its region as the unknown which yet the heart yearns to know? Such cannot be the unknowable. It is endless comfort to think of something that _might_ be true. And the essence of whatever seems to a human heart to be true, I expect to find true--in greater forms, and without the degrading accidents which so often accompany it in the brain of the purest thinker. Why should I not speculate in the only direction in which things to me worthy of speculation appear likely to lie? There is a wide _may be_ around us; and every true speculation widens the probability of changing the may _be_ into the _is_. The laws that are known and the laws that shall be known are all lights from the Father of lights: he who reverently searches for such will not long mistake a flash in his own brain for the candle of the Lord. But if he should mistake, he will be little the worse, so long as he is humble, and ready to acknowledge error; while, if he should be right, he will be none the worse for having seen the glimmer of the truth from afar--may, indeed, come to gather a little honour from those who, in the experimental verification of an idea, do not altogether forget that, without some foregone speculation, the very idea on which they have initiated their experiment, and are now expending their most valued labour, would never have appeared in their firmament to guide them to new facts and realities. Nor would it be impossible to imagine how St Peter might come within the sphere of the holy influence, so that he, too, for a moment should walk on the water. Faith will yet prove itself as mighty a power as it is represented by certain words of the Lord which are at present a stumbling-block even to devout Christians, who are able to accept them only by putting explanations upon them which render them unworthy of his utterance. When I say _a power_, I do not mean in itself, but as connecting the helpless with the helpful, as uniting the empty need with the full supply, as being the conduit through which it is right and possible for the power of the creating God to flow to the created necessity. When the Lord got into the boat, the wind ceased, "and immediately," says St John, "the ship was at the land whither they went." As to whether the ceasing of the wind was by the ordinary laws of nature, or some higher law first setting such in operation, no one who has followed the spirit of my remarks will wonder that I do not care to inquire: they are all of one. Nor, in regard to their finding themselves so quickly at the end of their voyage, will they wonder if I think that we may have just one instance of space itself being subject to the obedient God, and that his wearied disciples, having toiled and rowed hard for so long, might well find themselves at their desired haven as soon as they received him into their boat. Either God is all in all, or he is nothing. Either Jesus is the Son of the Father, or he did no miracle. Either the miracles are fact, or I lose--not my faith in this man--but certain outward signs of truths which these very signs have aided me to discover and understand and see in themselves. The miracle of the stilling of the storm naturally follows here. Why should not he, who taught his disciples that God numbered the very hairs of their heads, do what his Father is constantly doing--still storms--bring peace out of uproar? Of course, if the storm was stilled, it came about by natural causes--that is, by such as could still a storm. That anything should be done by unnatural causes, that is, causes not of the nature of the things concerned, is absurd. The sole question is whether Nature works alone, as some speculators think, or whether there is a soul in her, namely, an intent;--whether these things are the result of thought, or whether they spring from a dead heart; unconscious, yet productive of conscious beings, to think, yea, speculate eagerly concerning a conscious harmony hinted at in their broken music and conscious discord; beings who, although thus born of unthinking matter, invent the notion of an all lovely, perfect, self-denying being, whose thought gives form to matter, life to nature, and thought to man--subjecting himself for their sakes to the troubles their waywardness has brought upon them, that they too may at length behold a final good--may see the Holy face to face--think his thoughts and will his wisdom! That things should go by a law which does not recognize the loftiest in him, a man feels to be a mockery of him. There lies little more satisfaction in such a condition of things than if the whole were the fortuitous result of ever conflicting, never combining forces. Wherever individual and various necessity, choice, and prayer, come in, there must be the present God, able and ready to fit circumstances to the varying need of the thinking, willing being he has created. Machinery will not do here--perfect as it may be. That God might make a world to go on with absolute physical perfection to all eternity, I could easily believe; but where the gain?--nay, where the fitness, if he would train thinking beings to his own freedom? For such he must be ever present, ever have room to order things for their growth and change and discipline and enlightenment. The present living idea informing the cosmos, is nobler than all forsaken perfection--nobler, as a living man is nobler than an automaton. If one should say: "The laws of God ought to admit of no change," I answer: The same working of unalterable laws might under new circumstances _look_ a breach of those laws. That God will never alter his laws, I fully admit and uphold, for they are the outcome of his truth and fact; but that he might not act in ways unrecognizable by us as consistent with those laws, I have yet to see reason ere I believe. Why should his perfect will be limited by our understanding of that will? Should he be paralyzed because we are blind? That he should ever require us to believe of him what we think wrong, I do not believe; that he should present to our vision what may be inconsistent with our half-digested and constantly changing theories, I can well believe. Why not--if only to keep us from petrifying an imperfect notion, and calling it an _Idea_? What I would believe is, that a present God manages the direction of those laws, even as a man, in his inferior way, works out his own will in the midst and by means of those laws. Shall God create that which shall fetter and limit and enslave himself? What should his laws, as known to us, be but the active mode in which he embodies certain truths--that mode also the outcome of his own nature? If so, they must be always capable of falling in with any, if not of effecting every, expression of his will. There remains but one miracle of this class to consider--one to some minds involving greater difficulties than all the rest. They say the story of the fish with a piece of money in its mouth is more like one of the tales of eastern fiction than a sober narrative of the quiet-toned gospel. I acknowledge a likeness: why might there not be some likeness between what God does and what man invents? But there is one noticeable difference: there is nothing of colour in the style of the story. No great roc, no valley of diamonds, no earthly grandeur whatever is hinted at in the poor bare tale. Peter had to do with fishes every day of his life: an ordinary fish, taken with the hook, was here the servant of the Lord--and why should not the poor fish have its share in the service of the Master? Why should it not show for itself and its kind that they were utterly his? that along with the waters in which they dwelt, and the wind which lifteth up the waves thereof, they were his creatures, and gladly under his dominion? What the scaly minister brought was no ring, no rich jewel, but a simple piece of money, just enough, I presume, to meet the demand of those whom, although they had no legal claim, our Lord would not offend by a refusal; for he never cared to stand upon his rights, or treat that as a principle which might be waived without loss of righteousness. I take for granted that there was no other way at hand for those poor men to supply the sum required of them. X. MIRACLES OF DESTRUCTION. IF we regard the miracles of our Lord as an epitome of the works of his Father, there must be room for what we call destruction. In the grand process of existence, destruction is one of the phases of creation; for the inferior must ever be giving way for the growth of the superior: the husk must crumble and decay, that the seed may germinate and appear. As the whole creation passes on towards the sonship, death must ever be doing its sacred work about the lower regions, that life may ever arise triumphant, in its ascent towards the will of the Father. I cannot therefore see good reason why the almost solitary act of destruction recorded in the story should seem unlike the Master. True this kind is unlike the other class in this, that it has only an all but solitary instance: he did not come for the manifestation of such power. But why, when occasion appeared, should it not have its place? Why might not the Lord, consistently with his help and his healing, do that in one instance which his Father is doing every day? I refer now, of course, to the withering of the fig-tree. In the midst of the freshest greenery of summer, you may see the wan branches of the lightning-struck tree. As a poet drawing his pen through syllable or word that mars his clear utterance or musical comment, such is the destruction of the Maker. It is the indrawn sigh of the creating Breath. Our Lord had already spoken the parable of the fig-tree that bore no fruit. This miracle was but the acted parable. Here he puts into visible form that which before he had embodied in words. All shapes of argument must be employed to arouse the slumbering will of men. Even the obedience that comes of the lowest fear is a first step towards an infinitely higher condition than that of the most perfect nature created incapable of sin. The right interpretation of the external circumstances, however, is of course necessary to the truth of the miracle. It seems to me to be the following. I do not know to whom I am primarily indebted for it. The time of the gathering of figs was near, but had not yet arrived: upon any fruitful tree one might hope to find a few ripe figs, and more that were eatable. The Lord was hungry as he went to Jerusalem from Bethany, and saw on the way a tree with all the promise that a perfect foliage could give. He went up to it, "if haply he might find anything thereon." The leaves were all; fruit there was none in any stage; the tree was a pretence; it fulfilled not that for which it was sent. Here was an opportunity in their very path of enforcing, by a visible sign proceeding from himself, one of the most important truths he had striven to teach them. What he had been saying was in him a living truth: he condemned the tree to become in appearance that which it was in fact--a useless thing: when they passed the following morning, it had withered away, was dried up from the roots. He did not urge in words the lesson of the miracle-parable; he left that to work when the fate of fruitless Jerusalem should also have become fact. For the present the marvel of it possessed them too much for the reading of its lesson; therefore, perhaps, our Lord makes little of the marvel and much of the power of faith; assuring them of answers to their prayers, but adding, according to St Mark, that forgiveness of others is the indispensable condition of their own acceptance --fit lesson surely to hang on that withered tree. After all, the thing destroyed was only a tree. In respect of humanity there is but one distant, and how distant approach to anything similar! In the pseudo-evangels there are several tales of vengeance--not one in these books. The fact to which I refer is recorded by St John alone. It is, that when the "band of men and officers from the chief priests and Pharisees" came to take him, and "Jesus went forth and said unto them, Whom seek ye?" and in reply to theirs, had said "I am he, they went backward and fell to the ground." There are one or two facts in connection with the record of this incident, which although not belonging quite immediately to my present design, I would yet note, with the questions they suggest. The synoptical Gospels record the Judas-kiss: St John does not. St John alone records the going backward and falling to the ground--prefacing the fact with the words, "And Judas also, which betrayed him, stood with them." Had not the presence of Judas, then--perhaps his kiss--something to do with the discomfiture of these men? If so--and it seems to me probable--how comes it that St John alone omits the kiss--St John alone records the recoil? I repeat--if the kiss had to do with the recoil--as would seem from mystical considerations most probable, from artistic most suitable--why are they divided? I think just because those who saw, saw each a part, and record only what they saw or had testimony concerning. Had St John seen the kiss, he who was so capable of understanding the mystical fitness of the connection of such a kiss with such a recoil, could hardly have omitted it, especially seeing he makes such a point of the presence of Judas. Had he been an inventor--here is just such a thing as he would have invented; and just here his record is barer than that of the rest--bare of the one incident which would have best helped out his own idea of the story. The consideration is suggestive. But why this exercise of at least repellent, which is half-destructive force, reminding us of Milton's words-- Yet half his strength he put not forth, But checked His thunder in mid volley? It may have had to do with the repentance of Judas which followed. It may have had to do with the future history of the Jewish men who composed that band. But I suspect the more immediate object of our Lord was the safety of his disciples. As soon as the men who had gone backward and fallen to the ground, had risen and again advanced, he repeated the question--"Whom seek ye?" "Jesus of Nazareth," they replied. "I am he," said the Lord again, but added, now that they had felt his power--"If therefore ye seek me, let these go their way." St John's reference in respect of these words to a former saying of the Lord, strengthens this conclusion. And there was no attempt even to lay hands on them. He had astonished and terrified his captors to gain of them his sole request--that his friends should go unhurt. There was work for them to do in the world; and he knew besides that they were not yet capable of enduring for his sake. At all events it was neither for vengeance nor for self-preservation that this gentlest form of destruction was manifested. I suspect it was but another shape of the virtue that went forth to heal. A few men fell to the ground that his disciples might have time to grow apostles, and redeem the world with the news of him and his Father. For the sake of humanity the fig-tree withered; for the resurrection of the world, his captors fell: small hurt and mighty healing. Daring to interpret the work of the Father from the work of the Son, I would humbly believe that all destruction is for creation--that, even for this, death alone is absolutely destroyed--that, namely, which stands in the way of the outgoing of the Father's will, then only completing its creation when men are made holy. God does destroy; but not life. Its outer forms yield that it may grow, and growing pass into higher embodiments, in which it can grow yet more. That alone will be destroyed which has the law of death in itself--namely, sin. Sin is death, and death must be swallowed up of hell. Life, that is God, is the heart of things, and destruction must be destroyed. For this victory endless _forms_ of life must yield;--even the _form_ of the life of the Son of God himself must yield upon the cross, that the life might arise a life-giving spirit; that his own words might be fulfilled--"For if I depart not, the Comforter will not come unto you." All spirit must rise victorious over form; and the form must die lest it harden to stone around the growing life. No form is or can be great enough to contain the truth which is its soul; for all truth is infinite being a thought of God. It is only in virtue of the flowing away of the form, that is death, and the ever gathering of new form behind, that is birth or embodiment, that any true revelation is possible. On what other terms shall the infinite embrace the finite but the terms of an endless change, an enduring growth, a recognition of the divine as for ever above and beyond, a forgetting of that which is behind, a reaching unto that which is before? Therefore destruction itself is holy. It is as if the Eternal said, "I will show myself; but think not to hold me in any form in which I come. The form is not I." The still small voice is ever reminding us that the Lord is neither in the earthquake nor the wind nor the fire; but in the lowly heart that finds him everywhere. The material can cope with the eternal only in virtue of everlasting evanescence. XI. THE RESURRECTION. The works of the Lord he himself represents as given him of the Father: it matters little whether we speak of his resurrection as a miracle wrought by himself, or wrought in him by the Father. If he was one with the Father, the question cannot be argued, seeing that Jesus apart from the Father is not a conceivable idea. It is only natural that he who had power to call from the grave the body which had lain there for four days, should have power over the body he had himself laid down, to take it again with reanimating possession. For distinctly do I hold that he took again the same body in which he had walked about on the earth, suffered, and yielded unto death. In the same body--not merely the same form, in which he had taught them, he appeared again to his disciples, to give them the final consolations of a visible presence, before departing for the sake of a yet higher presence in the spirit of truth, a presence no longer limited by even the highest forms of the truth. It is not surprising that the records of such a marvel, grounded upon the testimony of men and women bewildered first with grief, and next all but distracted with the sudden inburst of a gladness too great for that equanimity which is indispensable to perfect observation, should not altogether correspond in the minutiae of detail. All knew that the Lord had risen indeed: what matter whether some of them saw one or two angels in the tomb? The first who came saw one angel outside and another inside the sepulchre. One at a different time saw two inside. What wonder then that one of the records should say of them all, that they saw two angels? I do not care to set myself to the reconciliation of the differing reports. Their trifling disagreement is to me even valuable from its truth to our human nature. All I care to do is to suggest to any one anxious to understand the records the following arrangement of facts. When Mary Magdalene found the tomb empty, not seeing, or heedless of the angel, she forsook her companions, and ran to the chief of the disciples to share the agony of this final loss. Perhaps something might yet be done to rescue the precious form, and lay it aside with all futile honours. With Peter and John she returned to the grave, whence, in the mean time, her former companions, having seen and conversed with the angel outside and the angel inside, had departed to find their friends. Peter and John, having, the one entered, the other looked into the tomb, and seen only the folded garments of desertion, returned home, but Mary lingered weeping by the place which was not now even the grave of the beloved, so utterly had not only he but the signs of him vanished. As she wept, she stooped down into the sepulchre. There sat the angels in holy contemplation, one at the head, the other at the feet where the body of Jesus had lain. Peter nor John had beheld them: to the eyes of Mary as of the other women they were manifest. It is a lovely story that follows, full of marvel, as how should it not be? "Woman, why weepest thou?" said the angels. "Because they have taken away my Lord, and I know not where they have laid him," answered Mary, and turning away, tear-blinded, saw the gardener, as she thought. "Woman, why weepest thou?" repeats the gardener. "Whom seekest thou?" Hopelessness had dulled every sense: not even a start at the sound of his voice! "Sir, if thou have borne him hence, tell me where thou hast laid him, and I will take him away." "Mary!" "Master!" "Touch me not; for I am not yet ascended to my Father; but go to my brethren, and say unto them, I ascend unto my Father and your Father; and to my God and your God." She had the first sight of him. It would almost seem that, arrested by her misery, he had delayed his ascent, and shown himself sooner than his first intent. "Touch me not, for I am not yet ascended." She was about to grasp him with the eager hands of reverent love: why did he refuse the touch? Doubtless the tone of the words deprived them of any sting. Doubtless the self-respect of the woman was in no way wounded by the master's recoil. For the rest, we know so little of the new conditions of his bodily nature, that nothing is ours beyond conjecture. It may be, for anything I know, that there were even physical reasons why she should not yet touch him; but my impression is that, after the hard work accomplished, and the form in which he had wrought and suffered resumed, he must have the Father's embrace first, as after a long absence any man would seek first the arms of his dearest friend. It may well be objected to this notion, that he had never been absent from God--that in his heart he was at home with him continually. And yet the body with all its limitations, with all its partition-walls of separation, is God's, and there must be some way in which even _it_ can come into a willed relation with him to whom it is nearer even than to ourselves, for it is the offspring of his will, or as the prophets of old would say--the work of his hands. That which God has invented and made, which has its very origin in the depth of his thought, _can_ surely come nigh to God. Therefore I think that in some way which we cannot understand, Jesus would now seek the presence of the Father; would, having done the work which he had given him to do, desire first of all to return in the body to him who had _sent_ him by giving him a body. Hence although he might delay his return at the sound of the woman's grief, he would rather _she_ did not touch him first. If any one thinks this founded on too human a notion of the Saviour, I would only reply that I suspect a great part of our irreligion springs from our disbelief in the humanity of God. There lie endless undiscovered treasures of grace. After he had once ascended to the Father, he not only appeared to his disciples again and again, but their hands handled the word of life, and he ate in their presence. He had been to his Father, and had returned that they might know him lifted above the grave and all that region in which death has power; that as the elder brother, free of the oppressions of humanity, but fulfilled of its tenderness, he might show himself captain of their salvation. Upon the body he inhabited, death could no longer lay his hands, and from the vantage-ground he thus held, he could stretch down the arm of salvation to each and all. For in regard of this glorified body of Jesus, we must note that it appeared and disappeared at the will of its owner; and it would seem also that other matter yielded and gave it way; yes, even that space itself was in some degree subjected to it. Upon the first of these, the record is clear. If any man say he cannot believe it, my only answer is that I can. If he ask how it _could_ be, the nearest I can approach to an answer is to indicate the region in which it may be possible: the border-land where thought and matter meet is the region where all marvels and miracles are generated. The wisdom of this world can believe that matter generates mind: what seems to me the wisdom from above can believe that mind generates matter--that matter is but the manifest mind. On this supposition matter may well be subject to mind; much more, if Jesus be the Son of God, his own body must be subject to his will. I doubt, indeed, if the condition of any man is perfect before the body he inhabits is altogether obedient to his will--before, through his own absolute obedience to the Father, the realm of his own rule is put under him perfectly. It may be objected that although this might be credible of the glorified body of even the human resurrection, it is hard to believe that the body which suffered and died on the cross could become thus plastic to the will of the indwelling spirit. But I do not see why that which was born of the spirit of the Father, should not be so inter-penetrated and possessed by the spirit of the Son, that, without the loss of one of its former faculties, it should be endowed with many added gifts of obedience; amongst the rest such as are indicated in the narrative before us. Why was this miracle needful? Perhaps, for one thing, that men should not limit him, or themselves in him, to the known forms of humanity; and for another, that the best hope might be given them of a life beyond the grave; that their instinctive desires in that direction might thus be infinitely developed and assured. I suspect, however, that it followed just as the natural consequence of all that preceded. If Christ be risen, then is the grave of humanity itself empty. We have risen with him, and death has henceforth no dominion over us. Of every dead man and woman it may be said: He--she--is not here, but is risen and gone before us. Ever since the Lord lay down in the tomb, and behold it was but a couch whence he arose refreshed, we may say of every brother: He is not dead but sleepeth. He too is alive and shall arise from his sleep. The way to the tomb may be hard, as it was for him; but we who look on, see the hardness and not the help; we see the suffering but not the sustaining: that is known only to the dying and God. They can tell us little of this, and nothing of the glad safety beyond. With any theory of the conditions of our resurrection, I have scarcely here to do. It is to me a matter of positively no interest whether or not, in any sense, the matter of our bodies shall be raised from the earth. It is enough that we shall possess forms capable of revealing ourselves and of bringing us into contact with God's other works; forms in which the idea, so blurred and broken in these, shall be carried out--remaining so like, that friends shall doubt not a moment of the identity, becoming so unlike, that the tears of recognition shall be all for the joy of the gain and the gratitude of the loss. Not to believe in mutual recognition beyond, seems to me a far more reprehensible unbelief than that in the resurrection itself. I can well understand how a man should not believe in any life after death. I will confess that although probabilities are for it, _appearances_ are against it. But that a man, still more a woman, should believe in the resurrection of the very same body of Jesus, who took pains that his friends should recognize him therein; that they should regard his resurrection as their one ground for the hope of their own uprising, and yet not believe that friend shall embrace friend in the mansions prepared for them, is to me astounding. Such a shadowy resumption of life I should count unworthy of the name of resurrection. Then indeed would the grave be victorious, not alone over the body, not alone over all which made the life of this world precious and by which we arose towards the divine--but so far victorious over the soul that henceforth it should be blind and deaf to what in virtue of loveliest memories would have added a new song to the praises of the Father, a new glow to the love that had wanted but that to make it perfect. In truth I am ashamed of even combating such an essential falsehood. Were it not that here and there a weak soul is paralysed by the presence of the monstrous lie, and we dare not allow sympathy to be swallowed up of even righteous disdain, a contemptuous denial would be enough. What seemed to the disciples the final acme of disappointment and grief, the vanishing of his body itself, was in reality the first sign of the dawn of an illimitable joy. He was not there because he had risen. XII. THE TRANSFIGURATION. I have judged it fitting to close this series of meditations with some thoughts on the Transfiguration, believing the story to be as it were a window through which we gain a momentary glimpse of the region whence all miracles appear--a glimpse vague and dark for all the transfiguring light, for God himself is "by abundant clarity invisible." In the story we find a marvellous change, a lovely miracle, pass upon the form itself whence the miracles flowed, as if the pent-up grace wrought mightily upon the earthen vessel which contained it. Our Lord would seem to have repeatedly sought some hill at eventide for the solitude such a place alone could afford him. It must often have been impossible for him to find any other chamber in which to hold communion with his Father undisturbed. This, I think, was one of such occasions. He took with him the favoured three, whom also he took apart from the rest in the garden of Gethsemane, to retire even from them a little, that he might be alone with the Father, yet know that his brothers were near him--the ocean of human need thus drawn upwards in an apex of perfect prayer towards the throne of the Father. I think this, his one only material show, if we except the entry into Jerusalem upon the ass, took place in the night. Then the son of Joseph the carpenter was crowned, not his head only with a crown placed thereon from without, but his whole person with a crown of light born in him and passing out from him. According to St Luke he went up the mountain to pray, "but Peter and they that were with him were _heavy with sleep_." St Luke also says that "on the next day, when they were come down from the mountain," that miracle was performed which St Matthew and St Mark represent as done _immediately_ on the descent. From this it appears more than likely that the night was spent upon the mountain. St Luke says that "the fashion of his countenance was altered, and his raiment was white and glistering." St Matthew says, "His face did shine as the sun, and his raiment was white as the light." St Mark says, "His raiment became shining, exceeding white as snow, so as no fuller on earth can white them." St Luke is alone in telling us that it was while he prayed that this change passed upon him. He became outwardly glorious from inward communion with his Father. But we shall not attain to the might of the meaning, if we do not see what was the more immediate subject of his prayer. It is, I think, indicated in the fact, also recorded by St Luke, that the talk of his heavenly visitors was "of his decease which he should accomplish at Jerusalem." Associate with this the fact that his talk with his disciples, as they came down the mountain, pointed in the same direction, and that all open report of the vision was to be withheld until he should have risen from the dead, and it will appear most likely that the master, oppressed with the thought of that which now drew very nigh, sought the comfort and sympathy of his Father, praying in the prospect of his decease. Let us observe then how, in heaving off the weight of this awful shadow by prayer, he did not grow calm and resigned alone, if he were ever other than such, but his faith broke forth so triumphant over the fear, that it shone from him in physical light. Every cloud of sorrow or dread, touched with such a power of illumination, is itself changed into a glory. The radiance goes hand in hand with the coming decay and the three days' victory of death. It is as a foretaste of his resurrection, a putting on of his new glorified body for a moment while he was yet in the old body and the awful shadow yet between. It may be to something like this as taking place in other men that the apostle refers when he says: "We shall not all sleep, but we shall all be changed." That coming death was to be but as the overshadowing cloud, from which the glory should break anew and for ever. The transfiguration then was the divine defiance of the coming darkness. Let us now speculate for a moment upon the relation of the spiritual and physical manifested in it. He became, I repeat, outwardly glorious from inward communion with his Father. In like circumstance, the face of Moses shone marvellously. And what wonder? What should make a man's face shine, if not the presence of the Holy? if not communion with the Father of his spirit? In the transfiguration of Jesus we have, I think, just the perfect outcome of those natural results of which we have the first signs in Moses--the full daylight, of which his shining face was as the dawn. Thus, like the other miracles, I regard it as simply a rare manifestation of the perfect working of nature. Who knows not that in moments of lofty emotion, in which self is for the time forgotten, the eyes shine, and the face is so transfigured that we are doubtful whether it be not in a degree absolutely luminous! I say once more, in the Lord we find the perfecting of all the dull hunts of precious things which common humanity affords us. If so, what a glory must await every lowliest believer, since the communion of our elder brother with his Father and our Father, a communion for whose perfecting in us he came, caused not only his face to shine, but the dull garments he wore to become white as snow through the potency of the permeating light issuing from his whole person! The outer man shone with the delight of the inner man--for his Father was with him--so that even his garments shared in the glory. Such is what the presence of the Father will do for every man. May I not add that the shining of the garments is a type of the glorification of everything human when brought into its true relations by and with the present God? Keeping the same point of view, I turn now to the resurrection with which the whole fact is so closely associated:--I think the virtue of divine presence which thus broke in light from the body of Jesus, is the same by which his risen body, half molten in power, was rendered plastic to the will of the indwelling spirit. What if this light were the healing agent of the bodies of men, as the deeper other light from which it sprung is the healing agent of themselves? Are not the most powerful of the rays of light invisible to our vision? Some will object that this is a too material view of life and its facts. I answer that the question is whether I use the material to interpret the spiritual, as I think I do, or to account for it, as I know I do not. In my theory, the spiritual _both_ explains and accounts for the material. If the notions we have of what we may call _material light_ render it the only fitting image to express the invisible Truth, the being of God, there must be some closest tie between them--not of connection only, but of unity. Such a fitness could not exist without such connection; except, indeed, there were one god of the Natural and another of the Supernatural, who yet were brothers, and thought in similar modes, and the one had to supplement the work of the other. The essential truth of God it must be that creates its own visual image in the sun that enlightens the world: when man who is the image of God is filled with the presence of the eternal, he too, in virtue of his divine nature thus for the moment ripened to glory, radiates light from his very person. Where, when, or how the inner spiritual light passes into or generates outward physical light, who can tell? This border-land, this touching of what we call mind and matter, is the region of miracles--of material creation, I might have said, which is _the_ great--suspect, the _only_ miracle. But if matter be the outcome of spirit, and body and soul be one man, then, if the soul be radiant of truth, what can the body do but shine? I conjecture then, that truth, which is light in the soul, might not only cast out disease, which is darkness in the body, but change that body even, without the intervention of death, into the likeness of the body of Jesus, capable of all that could be demanded of it. Except by violence I do not think the body of Jesus could have died. No physiologist can tell why man should die. I think a perfect soul would be capable of keeping its body alive. An imperfect one cannot fill it with light in every part--cannot thoroughly inform the brute matter with life. The transfiguration of Jesus was but the visible outbreak of a life so strong as to be life-giving, life-restoring. The flesh it could melt away and evermore renew. Such a body might well walk upon the stormiest waters. A body thus responsive to and interpenetrative of light, which is the visible life, could have no sentence of death in it. It would never have died. But I find myself in regions where I dare tread no further for the darkness of ignorance. I see many glimmers: they are too formless and uncertain. When or how the light died away, we are not told. My own fancy is that it went on shining but paling all the night upon the lonely mount, to vanish in the dawn of the new day. When he came down from the mountain the virtue that dwelt in him went forth no more in light to the eyes, but in healing to the poor torn frame of the epileptic boy. So he vanished at last from the eyes of his friends, only to draw nearer--with a more intense and healing presence--to their hearts and minds. Even so come, Lord Jesus. 
7977	----	PURGATORY: Doctrinal, Historical and Poetical, BY MRS. J. SADLIER LO! PURGATORY! DOCTRINE BLEST, ENGARLANDED WITH LEGENDS WILD, HISTORIC LORE AND POETRY'S FAIR FLOWERS! _"Bring my soul out of prison, that I may praise thy name: the just wait for me, until thou reward me."_ Ps. CXLI 8. DEDICATION TO THE GRACIOUS MEMORY OF MY DEARLY-BELOVED SON, REV. FRANCIS X. SADLIER, S.J. WHOSE TENDER DEVOTION TO THE Souls in Purgatory LED HIM TO TAKE A DEEP AND ACTIVE INTEREST IN THE PROGRESS OF THIS WORK, BUT WHO WAS NOT PERMITTED TO SEE ITS COMPLETION, BEING CALLED HENCE, SCARCELY THREE MONTHS AFTER HIS ORDINATION, IN THE MIDDLE OF THE MONTH CONSECRATED TO THOSE Holy Souls, _November 14th, 1885._ R. I. P. INTRODUCTION I have written many books and translated many more on a great variety of subjects, nearly all of which, I thank God now with all my heart, were more or less religious, at least in their tendency; but the circle of these my life-long labors seems to me incomplete. One link is wanting to the chain, and that is a work specially devoted to the souls in Purgatory. This omission I am anxious to supply while the working days of my life are still with me, for, a few more years, at most, and for me "the night cometh when no man can work." As we advance into the vale of years and journey on the downward slope, we are happily drawn more and more towards the eternal truths of the great untried world beyond the grave. Foremost amongst these stands out more and still more clearly, in all its awful reality, the dread but consoling doctrine of Purgatory. When we have seen many of our best beloved relatives, many of our dearest and most devoted friends--those who started with us in "the freshness of morning" on the road of life, which then lay so deceitfully fair and bright before them and us--they who shared our early hopes and aspirations, and whose words and smiles were the best encouragement of our feeble efforts--when we have seen them sink, one by one, into the darkness of the grave, leaving the earth more bleak and dreary year by year for those who remain--then do we naturally follow them in spirit to those gloomy regions where one or all may be undergoing that blessed purification which prepares them for the eternal repose of Heaven. Of all the divine truths which the Catholic Church proposes to her children, assuredly none is more acceptable to the pilgrim race of Adam than that of Purgatory. It is, beyond conception, dear and precious as one of the links that connect the living with the vanished dead, and which keeps them fresh in the memory of those who loved them on earth, and whose dearest joy it is to be able to help them in that shadowy border-land through which, in pain and sorrow, they must journey before entering the Land of Promise, which is the City of God, seated on the everlasting hills. When I decided on adding yet another to the many books on Purgatory already existing even in our own language, I, at the same time, resolved to make it as different as possible from all the others, and thus fill up a void of which I have long been sensible in our English Purgatorial literature. Doctrinal works, books of devotion, e have in abundance, but it is, unhappily, only the pious, the religiously- inclined who will read them. Knowing this, and still desirous to promote devotion to the Holy Souls by making Purgatory more real, more familiar to the general reader, I thought the very best means I could take for that end would be to make a book chiefly of legends and of poetry, with enough of doctrinal and devotional matter to give a substantial character to the work by placing it on the solid foundations of Catholic dogma, patristic authority, and that, at the same time, of the latest divines and theologians of the Church, by selections from their published writings. I have divided the work into five parts, viz.: Doctrinal and Devotional, comprising extracts from Suarez, St. Catherine of Genoa, St. Augustine, St. Gertrude, St. Francis de Sales, of the earlier and middle ages; and from Archbishop Gibbons, Very Rev. Faá di Bruno, Father Faber, Father Muller, C.S.S.R., Father Binet, S.J., Rev. J. J. Moriarty, and others. The Second Part consists of Anecdotes and Incidents relating to Purgatory, and more or less authentic. The Third Part contains historical matter bearing on the same subject, including Father Lambing's valuable article on "The Belief in a Middle State of Souls after Death amongst Pagan Nations." The Fourth Part is made up of "Thoughts on Purgatory, from Various Authors, Catholic and non- Catholic," including Cardinals Newman, Wiseman, and Manning; the Anglican Bishops Jeremy Taylor and Reginald Heber, Dr. Samuel Johnson, William Hurrell Mallock, Count de Maistre, Chateaubriand. The Fifth and last part consists of a numerous collection of legends and poems connected with Purgatory. Many of these are translated from the French, especially the _Légendes de l'Autre Monde,_ by the well-known legendist, J. Colin de Plancy. In selecting the legends and anecdotes, I have endeavored to give only those that were new to most English readers, thus leaving out many legends that would well bear reproducing, but were already too well known to excite any fresh interest. In the poetical section I have represented as many as possible of the best-known poets, from Dante down, and some poems of rare beauty and merit were translated from French and Canadian poets by my daughter, who has also contributed some interesting articles for the historical portion of the work. As may be supposed, this book is the fruit of much research. The collection of the material has necessarily been a work of time, the field from which the gleanings were made being so vast, and the selections requiring so much care. As regards the legendary portion of the work, whether prose or poetry, the reader will, of course, understand that I give the legends precisely for what they are worth; by no means as representing the doctrinal belief of Purgatory, but merely as some of the wild flowers of poetry and romance that have grown, in the long lapse of time, from the rich soil of faith and piety, amongst the Catholic peoples of every land--intensified, in this instance, by the natural affection of the living for their dear departed ones, and the solemn and shadowy mystery in which the dead are shrouded when once they have passed the portals of eternity and are lost to mortal sight. Some of these legends, though exceedingly beautiful, will hardly bear close examination in the light of Catholic dogma. Of this class is "The Faithful Soul," of Adelaide Procter, which is merely given here as an old French legend, nearly connected with Purgatory, and having really nothing in it contrary to faith, though in a high degree improbable, but yet from its intrinsic beauty and dramatic character, no less than the subtle charm of Miss Procter's verse, eminently worthy of a place in this collection. The same remark applies more or less to some of Colin de Plancy's legends, notably that of "Robert the Devil's Penance," and others of a similar kind, as also T. D. McGee's "Penance of Don Diego Rias" and Calderon's "St. Patrick's Purgatory"--the two last named bearing on the same subject. Nevertheless, they all come within the scope of my present work and are, therefore, presented to the reader as weird fragments of the legendary lore of Purgatory. Taken altogether, I think this work will help to increase devotion to the Suffering Souls, and excite a more tender and more sensible feeling of sympathy for them, at least amongst Catholics, showing, as it does, the awful reality of those purgative pains awaiting all, with few or no exceptions, in the after life; the help they may and do receive from the good offices of the living, and the sacred and solemn' duty it is for Christians in the present life to remember them and endeavor to relieve their sufferings by every means in their power. To answer this purpose I have made the dead ages unite their solemn and authoritative voice with that of the living, actual present in testimony of the truth of this great Catholic dogma. The Saints, the Fathers, the Doctors of the Church in the ages of antiquity, and the prelates and priests of our own day all speak the same language of undoubting faith, of solemn conviction regarding Purgatory,--make the same earnest and eloquent appeal to the faithful on behalf of the dear suffering souls. Even the heathen nations and tribes of both hemispheres are brought forward as witnesses to the existence of a middle state in the after life. Nor is Protestantism itself wanting in this great and overwhelming mass of evidence, as the reader will perceive that some of its most eminent divines and secular writers have joined, with no hesitating or faltering voice, in the grand _Credo_ of the nations and the ages in regard to Purgatory. What remains for me to add except the earnest hope that this book may have the effect it is intended to produce by bringing the faithful children of the Church to think more and oftener of their departed brethren who, having passed from the Militant to the Suffering Church, are forever crying out to the living from their darksome prison--"Have pity on us, have pity on us, at least you who were our friends, have pity on us, for the hand of the Lord is heavy upon us!" TABLE OF CONTENTS INTRODUCTION PART I. DOCTRINAL AND DEVOTIONAL. Doctrine of Suarez on Purgatory St. Catherine of Genoa on Purgatory Extracts from the Fathers on Purgatory Verses from the Imitation _Thomas à Kempis._ St. Augustine and his Mother, St. Monica St. Gertrude and the Holy Souls St. Joseph's Intercession for the Faithful Departed St. Francis de Sales on Purgatory Cardinal Gibbons on Purgatory Archbishop Hughes on Purgatory Archbishop Lynch on Purgatory Purgatory Surveyed _Father Binet, S. J._ Father Faber on Devotion to the Holy Souls Why the Souls in Purgatory are called "Poor" _Mullcr._ Appeal to all Classes for the Souls in Purgatory _By a Paulist Father._ The Souls in Purgatory _Rev. F. X. Weninger, S. J._ Popular View of Purgatory _Rev. J. J. Moriarty._ Extracts from "Catholic Belief" _Very Rev. Faá Di Bruno, D.D._ Purgatory and the Feast of All Souls _Alban Butkr._ PART II. ANECDOTES AND INCIDENTS. The Fruit of a Mass _Almanac of the Souls in Purgatory_. Faith of a Pious Lady _Almanac of the Souls in Purgatory_. Pay what Thou Owest _Ave Maria_. VIA CRUCIS _Footsteps of Spirits_. Strange Incidents _Footsteps of Spirits_. True Story of the "_De Profundis_" _Ave Maria_. Confidence Rewarded _Almanac of the Souls in Purgatory_ Anecdote of the "_De Profundis_" Strange Occurrence in a Persian Prison _Life of St. John the Almoner_. A Swiss Protestant Converted by the Doctrine of Purgatory _Catechism in Examples_. The Dead Hand _Ave Maria_. A Beautiful Example _Almanac of the Souls in Purgatory_. How to Pay One's Debts _Almanac of the Souls in Purgatory_. Faith Rewarded _Almanac of the Souls in Purgatory_. Apparition of a Citizen of Arles _Histoire des Spectres_. Countess of Strafford _Vie de Monsgr. de la Mothe_. Marquis de Civrac _Une Commune Vendéenne. 183 Gratitude of the Holy Souls _Ave Maria_. Strange Incident _Ave Maria_. PART III. HISTORICAL. Doctrine of Purgatory amongst the Pagan Nations of Antiquity _Rev. A. A. Lambing_. Devotion to the Dead amongst American Indians Superstitious Belief amongst American Indians Remembrance, of the Dead amongst the Egyptians Remembrance of the Dead throughout Europe _A. T. Sadlier_. Part I. Remembrance of the Dead throughout Europe _A. T. Sadlier_. Part II. Prayer for the Dead in the Anglo-Saxon Church _Dr. Lingard_ Singular French Custom _Voix de la Verité_ Devotion to the Holy Souls amongst the Early English _A. T. Sadlier_ Doctrine of Purgatory in the Early Irish Church _Walsh_ Prince Napoleon's Prayer Helpers of the Holy Souls _Lady G. Fullerton_ The Mass in Relation to the Dead _O'Brien_ Daniel O'Connell, Funeral Oration on _Rev. T. N. Burke, O.P._ Indulgence of the Portiuncula _Almanac of the Souls in Purgatory_. Catherine of Cardona _Almanac of the Souls in Purgatory_. The Emperor Nicholas Praying for his Mother _Anecdotes Chrétiennes_. Pius VI., Funeral Oration on _Rev. Arthur O'Leary, O.S.F._ Rev. Arthur O'Leary, O.S.F., Funeral Oration on _Rev. M. D'Arcy_ _De Mortuis_. Our Deceased Prelates. _Archbishop Corrigan_ PART IV. THOUGHTS OF VARIOUS AUTHORS ON PURGATORY. Purgatory _Cardinal Newman_ Our Debt to the Dead _Cardinal Manning_ Purgatory _Cardinal Wiseman_ Reply to some Misstatements about Purgatory _Archbishop Spalding_ Count de Maistre on Purgatory What the Saints thought of Purgatory Châteaubriand on Purgatory Mary and the Faithful Departed _Brother Azarias._ Dr. Johnson on Prayer for the Dead The Doctrine of Purgatory _Burnett._ Mallock on Purgatory Boileau-Despréaux and Prayer for the Dead All Saints and All Souls _Mrs. Sadlier._ Leibnitz on the Mass as a Propitiatory Sacrifice Extracts from "A Troubled Heart" Eugénie de Guerin and her Brother Maurice Passages from the "Via Media" _Newman._ All Souls _From the French._ An Anglican Bishop Praying for the Dead "Purgatory" of Dante _Mariotti._ Month of November _Mary E. Blake._ Litany of the Departed _Acolytus._ All Souls' Day _Mrs. Sadlier._ Cemeteries Opinions of Various Protestants Some Thoughts for November PART V. LEGENDARY AND POETICAL. _Dies Iræ_ Authorship of the _Dies Iræ_ Dante's _"Purgatorio"_ Hamlet and the Ghost _Shakespeare._ Calderon's "Purgatory of St. Patrick" The Brig o' Dread _Scott._ Shelley and the Purgatory of St. Patrick On a Great Funeral _Aubrey de Vere._ _Morte d'Arthur_ _Tennyson._ Guido and his Brother _Collin de Plancy._ Berthold in Purgatory _Collin de Plancy._ Legend of St. Nicholas _Collin de Planey._ Dream of Gerontius _Newman. St. Gregory_ Releases the Soul of Trajan _Mrs. Jameson._ St. Gregory and the Monk Legend of Geoffroid d'lden The Queen of Purgatory _Faber_. The Dead Priest before the Altar _Rev. A. J. Ryan_. Memorials of the Dead _R. R. Madden_. A Child's "_Requiescat in Pace_" _Eliza Allen Starr_. The Solitary Soul _Ave Maria_. Story of the Faithful Soul _Adelaide Procter_. Genérade, the Friend of St. Augustine _De Plancy_ St. Thomas Aquinas and Friar Romanus _De Plancy_. The Key that Never Turns _Eleanor C. Donnelly_. A Burial _Thomas Davis_. Hymn for the Dead _Newman_. The Two Students _De Plancy_. The Penance of Don Diego Riaz _McGee_. The Day of All Souls _Eliza Allen Starr_. Message of the November Wind _Eleanor C. Donnelly_. Legend of the Time of Charlemagne The Dead Mass The Eve of St. John _Sir Walter Scott_. Request of a Soul in Purgatory All Souls' _Marion Muir_. The Dead _Octave Cremasie_ A REQUIEM _Sir Walter Scott_. Penance of Robert the Devil _De Plancy_. All Souls' Eve Commemoration of All Souls _Harriet M. Skidmore_. The Memory of the Dead _Faber_. The Holy Souls. Author of "Christian Schools and Scholars." The Palmer's Rosary _Eliza Allen Starr_. A Lyke Wake Dirge. All Souls' Day _Lyra Liturgica_. The Suffering Souls. _E. M. V. Bulger._ "The Voices of the Dead." _M. R. in "The Lamp."_ The Convent Cemetery. _Rev. A. J. Ryan._ One Hour after Death. _Eliza Allen Starr._ A Prayer for the Dead. _T. D. McGee._ The _De Profundis Bell._ _Harriet M. Skidmore._ November. _Anna T. Sadlier._ For the Souls in Purgatory. All Souls' Eve. Our Neighbor. _Eliza Allen Starr._ Old Bells. O Holy Church. _Harriet M. Skidmore._ An Incident of the Battle of Bannockburn. _Sir Walter Scott._ Pray for the Martyred Dead. In Winter. _Eliza Allen Starr._ _Oremus._ _Mary E. Mannix._ Funeral Hymn. _A. T. Sadlier._ _Chant Funèbre._ _Nisard._ _Requiescat in Pace._ _Harriet M. Skidmore._ The Feast of All Souls in the Country. _Anna T. Sadlier._ _Requiem Æternum_ _T. D. McGee._ APPENDIX. Association of Masses and Stations of the Cross. Extracts from _The Catholic Review_ of New York. A Duty of November. _The Texas Monitor._ Purgatorial Association. _Catholic Columbian._ The Holy Face and the Suffering Souls. When will they Learn its Secret? _Baptist Examiner._ PART I. DOCTRINAL AND DEVOTIONAL. "But now, brethren, if I come to you, speaking with tongues: what shall I profit you, unless I speak to you either in revelation, or in knowledge, or in prophecy, or in doctrine?" --ST. PAUL, I. COR. PURGATORY: DOCTRINAL AND DEVOTIONAL. DOCTRINE OF SUAREZ ON PURGATORY. THE PLACE. It is a certain truth of faith that after this life there is a place of Purgatory. Though the name of Purgatory may not be found in Holy Scripture, that does not matter, if we can show that the thing meant by the name can be found there; for often the Church, either because of new heresies, or that the doctrine of the faith may be set forth more clearly and shortly, gives new and simple names, in which the mysteries of the faith are summed up. This is evident in the cases of the Holy Trinity, the Incarnation, and the Holy Eucharist. The doctrine of Purgatory is proved by:--the Old Testament, the New Testament, the Councils of the Church, especially those of Florence and of Trent, the Fathers and Tradition, and by theological reasons. WHERE PURGATORY IS. Nothing is said in Holy Scripture about this place, nor is there any definition of the Church concerning it. The subject, therefore, comes within the range of theological discussion. Theologians, however, suppose Purgatory to be a certain corporeal place, in which souls are kept till they pay fully the debt which they owe. It is true that they do not in themselves need a corporeal place, since they are spirits; but yet, as they are in this world, they must, of necessity, be in some corporeal place--at any rate, with regard to substantial presence. Thus we see that God, in His providence, has made definite places for the Angels, according to the difference of their states. Gehenna is prepared for the devil and his angels, whereas the empyreal Heaven is made for the good angels. In this way, it is certain that the souls, paying their debt, are kept in a corporeal place. This place is not heaven, for nothing that is defiled enters there; nor is it hell, for in hell there is no redemption, and from that place no souls can be saved. PAIN OF LOSS AND SENSE. The pain of loss is the want of the vision of God and of the whole of our everlasting beatitude. The pain of sense is the suffering of punishment specially inflicted over and above the loss of the beatitude of Heaven. We must assert that the souls in Purgatory suffer the pain of loss, tempered by hope, and not like the souls in hell, which have no hope. In the pain of sense we can distinguish two things. There is the sorrow which follows closely the want or delay of the vision of God, and has that for its object. There is also another pain, as it were outward, and this is proportioned to the sensible pain which is caused in us by fire, or any like action, contrary to nature and hurtful to it. That in Purgatory this sorrow does follow the loss of God is most certain; for that loss, or delay, is truly a great evil, and is most keenly felt to be such by those souls that with all their strength love God and long to see Him. Therefore, it is impossible for them not to feel the greatest sorrow about that delay. * * * * * We must assert that, besides the pain of loss and the sorrow annexed to it, there is in Purgatory a proper and peculiar pain of sense. This is the more common judgment of the scholastics; and seems to be received by the common judgment and approbation of the Church. Indeed, the equity of the avenging justice of God requires this. The sinner, through inordinate delight in creatures and affection for them, deserves a punishment contrary to that delight; and if in this life he has not made full satisfaction, he must be punished and freed by some such pain as this, which we call the pain of sense. Theologians in common teach this, and distinguish a proper pain of sense from the sorrow caused by the want of the vision of God. Thus they distinguish spiritual pains, such as sorrow for the delay of the vision, and remorse of conscience, from corporeal pains, which come from the fire, or any other instrument of God. These corporeal pains we comprehend under the pain of sense. * * * * * Whether, besides the fire, other corporeal things, such as water and snow, are used as instruments for punishing the souls is uncertain. Bede says that souls in Purgatory were seen to pass from very great heat to very great cold, and then from cold to heat. St. Anselm mentions these punishments disjunctively. He says, "or any other kind of punishments." We cannot, therefore, speak of this with certainty. THE PAIN OF LOSS. In this matter we may look at the pain of loss as well as the pain of sense. It is certain that the pain of loss is very sharp, because of the greatness of the good for which they wait. True, it is only for a time; yet it is rightly reckoned, as St. Thomas taught, a greater evil than any loss in this life. He and other theologians with him mean that the sorrow also which springs from the apprehension of this evil is greater than any pain or sorrow here. Hence, they conclude that the pain of loss in every way exceeds all pains of this life; for they think, as I have already noted, that this sorrow pertains to the pain of loss, and therefore they join this pain with privation, that the punishment may be greater in every way.... The vision of God and the beatitude of heaven are such that the possession of them, even for a day, could exceed all goods of this life taken together and possessed for a long time.... Therefore, even a short delay of such a good is a very heavy sorrow, far exceeding all the pains of this life. The Holy Souls well understand and weigh the greatness of this evil; and very piercing is the pain they feel, because they know that they are suffering through their own negligence and by their own fault.... There are, however, certain things which would seem to have power to lessen their pain: 1. They are certain of future glory. This hope must bring them much joy; as St. Paul says, "rejoicing in hope." (Roms. xii. 12.) 2. There is the rightness of their will, by which they are conformed to the justice of God. Hence, it follows that, in a certain sense, their pain is voluntary, and thus not so severe. 3. By the love of God they not only bear their punishment, but rejoice in it, because they see that it is the means of satisfying God and being brought to Heaven. 4. If they choose, they can turn their thoughts from the pain of delay, and give them very attentively to the good of hope. This would bring them consolation. THE PAIN OF SENSE. It is the common judgment of theologians, with St. Augustine, St. Thomas, and St. Bonaventure, that this pain is bitterer than all pain of this life.... Theologians, in common with St. Thomas and St. Bonaventure, teach that the pain of Purgatory is not in any way inflicted by devils. These souls are just and holy. They cannot sin any more; and, to the last, they have overcome the assaults of the devils. It would not, therefore, be fitting that such souls should be given into their power to be tormented by them. Again, when the devils tempt wayfarers, they do it because they hope to lead them into sin, however perfect they may be; but they could have no such hope about the souls in Purgatory, and so would not be likely to tempt them. Besides, they know that their temptations or harassings would have an effect not intended by them, and would bring the souls from Purgatory to Heaven more quickly. * * * * * It is the common law that souls in Purgatory, during the whole time that they are there, cannot come out from the prison, even if they wish; The constant closing of the prison-doors is a part of the severity of their punishment. So teach St. John Chrysostom, St. Athanasius, and St. Augustine.... The reason for this is the law of the justice of God. The souls of the lost are kept in prison by force and against their will. The souls in Purgatory stay there willingly, for they understand the just will of God and submit to it. This law, however, can be sometimes dispensed with; and so St. Augustine holds it to be probable that there are often true apparitions of the Holy Souls by the permission of God.... It is true that, as a rule, these are apparitions of souls, who, by a special decree of God, are suffering their Purgatory somewhere in this world.... One thing, however, we must note in these cases. When such a permission is given, the pain of the soul is not interrupted. This is not only seen from the visions themselves, but is what reason requires. * * * * * Here occurs the question whether the Holy Souls pray for us and can gain anything for us by merit of congruity, or, at least, impetrate it for us, as others prefer to say. Some have said that they do not thus pray for us, because it is not fitting to their state, in that they are debtors and, as it were, kept in prison for their debts; and also because they do not see God, and so do not know what is done here. They might know such things by special revelations, but revelations of this kind are not due to their state. But surely their penal state does not necessarily hinder the Holy Souls from praying for, and impetrating for us. They are holy and dear to God; and they love us with charity, remembering us, and knowing, at least in a general way, the dangers in which we live; they understand also how greatly we need the help of God: why, then, should they not be able to pray for us, even though in another way they are paying to God their debt of punishment? For we also in this life are debtors to God, and yet we pray for others.... Besides, we may well believe that the Holy Angels make revelations to the souls in Purgatory about their relatives or friends still living on this earth. They will do this for the consolation of the Holy Souls, or that they may know what to ask for us in particular cases, or that they may know of our prayers for them. ST. CATHARINE OF GENOA ON PURGATORY. This Holy Soul, while still in the flesh, was placed in the purgatory of the burning love of God, in whose flames she was purified from every stain, so that when she passed from this life she might be ready to enter the presence of God, her most sweet love. By means of that flame of love she comprehended in her own soul the condition of the souls of the faithful in Purgatory, where they are purified from the rust and stain of sins, from which they have not been cleansed in this world. And as in the purgatory of that divine flame she was united with the divine love and satisfied with all that was accomplished in her, she was enabled to comprehend the state of the souls in Purgatory, and thus discoursed concerning it: "As far as I can see, the souls in Purgatory can have no choice but be there; this God has most justly ordained by His divine decree. They cannot turn towards themselves and say, 'I have committed such and such sins for which I deserve to remain here;' nor can they say, 'Would that I had refrained from them, for then I should at this moment be in Paradise;' nor again, 'This soul will be released before me;' or, 'I shall be released before her.' They retain no memory of either good or evil respecting themselves or others which would increase their pain. They are so contented with the divine inspirations in their regard, and with doing all that is pleasing to God in that way which he chooses, that they cannot think of themselves, though they may strive to do so. They see nothing but the operation of the divine goodness which is so manifestly bringing them to God that they can reflect neither on their own profit nor on their hurt. Could they do so, they would not be in pure charity. They see not that they suffer their pains in consequence of their sins, nor can they for a moment entertain that thought, for should they do so it would be an active imperfection, and that cannot exist in a state where there is no longer the possibility of sin. At the moment of leaving this life, they see why they are sent to Purgatory, but never again; otherwise they would still retain something private, which has no place there. Being established in charity, they can never deviate therefrom by any defect, and have no will or desire save the pure will of pure love, and can swerve from it in nothing. They can neither commit sin nor merit by refraining from it. * * * * * "There is no peace to be compared with that of the souls in Purgatory, save that of the saints in Paradise, and this peace is ever augmented by the inflowing of God into these souls, which increases in proportion as the impediments to it are removed. The rust of sin is the impediment, and this the fire continually consumes, so that the soul in this state is continually opening itself to admit the divine communication. As a covered surface can never reflect the sun, not through any defect in that orb, but simply from the resistance offered by the covering, so, if the covering be gradually removed, the surface will by little and little be opened to the sun and will more and more reflect his light. So it is with the rust of sin, which is the covering of the soul. In Purgatory the flames incessantly consume it, and as it disappears the soul reflects more and more perfectly the true sun, who is God. Its contentment increases as this rust wears away, and the soul is laid bare to the divine ray; and thus one increases and the other decreases until the time is accomplished. The pain never diminishes, although the time does; but, as to the will, so united is it to God by pure charity, and so satisfied to be under His divine appointment, that these souls can never say their pains are pains. "On the other hand, it is true that they suffer torments which no tongue can describe nor any intelligence comprehend, unless it be revealed by such a special grace as that which God has vouchsafed to me, but which I am unable to explain. And this vision which God revealed to me has never departed from my memory. I will describe it as far as I am able, and they whose intellects our Lord will deign to open will understand me. * * * * * "The source of all suffering is either original or actual sin. God created the soul pure, simple, free from every stain, and with a certain beatific instinct towards Himself. It is drawn aside from Him by original sin, and when actual sin is afterwards added this withdraws it still farther, and ever, as it removes from Him, its sinfulness increases because its communication with God grows less and less. * * * * * "Since the souls in Purgatory are freed from the guilt of sin, there is no barrier between them and God save only the pains they suffer, which delay the satisfaction of their desire. And when they see how serious is even the slightest hindrance, which the necessity of justice causes to check them, a vehement flame kindles within them, which is like that of hell. They feel no guilt, however, and it is guilt which is the cause of the malignant will of the condemned in hell, to whom God does not communicate His goodness; and thus they remain in despair and with a will forever opposed to the good-will of God. * * * * * "The souls in Purgatory are entirely conformed to the will of God; therefore, they correspond with His goodness, are contented with all that He ordains, and are entirely purified from the guilt of their sins. They are pure from sins because they have in this life abhorred them and confessed them with true contrition; and for this reason God remits their guilt, so that only the stains of sin remain, and these must be devoured by the fire. Thus freed from guilt and united to the will of God, they see Him clearly according to that degree of light which He allows them, and comprehend how great a good is the fruition of God, for which all souls were created. Moreover, these souls are in such close conformity to God and are drawn so powerfully toward Him by reason of the natural attraction between Him and the soul, that no illustration or comparison could make this impetuosity understood in the way in which my spirit conceives it by its interior sense. Nevertheless, I will use one which occurs to me. "Let us suppose that in the whole world there were but one loaf to appease the hunger of every creature, and that the bare sight of it would satisfy them. Now man, when in health, has by nature the instinct for food, but if we can suppose him to abstain from it and neither die, nor yet lose health and strength, his hunger would clearly become increasingly urgent. In this case, if he knew that nothing but this loaf would satisfy him, and that until he reached it his hunger could not be appeased, he would suffer intolerable pain, which would increase as his distance from the loaf diminished; but if he were sure that he would never see it, his hell would be as complete as that of the damned souls, who, hungering after God, have no hope of ever seeing the bread of life. But the souls in Purgatory have an assured hope of seeing Him and of being entirely satisfied; and therefore they endure all hunger and suffer all pain until that moment when they enter into eternal possession of this bread, which is Jesus Christ, our Lord, our Saviour, and our Love. * * * * * "I will say, furthermore: I see that as far as God is concerned, Paradise has no gates, but he who will may enter. For God is all mercy, and His open arms are ever extended to receive us into His glory. But I see that the divine essence is so pure--purer than the imagination can conceive--that the soul, finding in itself the slightest imperfection, would rather cast itself into a thousand hells than appear, so stained, in the presence of the divine majesty. Knowing, then, that Purgatory was intended for her cleansing, she throws herself therein, and finds there that great mercy, the removal of her stains. "The great importance of Purgatory, neither mind can conceive nor tongue describe. I see only that its pains are as great as those of hell; and yet I see that a soul, stained with the slightest fault, receiving this mercy, counts the pains as nought in comparison with this hindrance to her love. And I know that the greatest misery of the souls in Purgatory is to behold in themselves aught that displeases God, and to discover that, in spite of His goodness, they had consented to it. And this is because, being in the state of grace, they see the reality and the importance of the impediments which hinder their approach to God. * * * * * "From that furnace of divine love I see rays of fire dart like burning lamps towards the soul; and so violent and powerful are they that both soul and body would be utterly destroyed, if that were possible. These rays perform a double office; they purify and they annihilate. "Consider gold: the oftener it is melted the more pure does it become; continue to melt it and every imperfection is destroyed. This is the effect of fire on all materials. The soul, however, cannot be annihilated in God, but in herself she can, and the longer her purification lasts the more perfectly does she die to herself, until at length she remains purified in God. "When gold has been completely freed from dross, no fire, however great, has any further action on it, for nothing but its imperfections can be consumed. So it is with the divine fire in the soul. God retains her in these flames until every stain is burned away, and she is brought to the highest perfection of which she is capable, each soul in her own degree. And when this is accomplished, she rests wholly in God. Nothing of herself remains, and God is her entire being. When He has thus led her to Himself and purified her, she is no longer passible, for nothing remains to be consumed. If, when thus refined, she should again approach the fire she would feel no pain, for to her it has become the fire of divine love, which is life eternal and which nothing mars." * * * * * And thus this blessed Soul, illuminated by the divine ray, said: "Would that I could utter so strong a cry that it would strike all men with terror, and say to them: O wretched beings! why are you so blinded by this world that you make, as you will find at the hour of death, no provision for the great necessity that will then come upon you? "You shelter yourselves beneath the hope of the mercy of God, which you unceasingly exalt, not seeing that it is your resistance to His great goodness which will be your condemnation. His goodness should constrain you to His will, not encourage you to persevere in your own. Since His justice is unfailing, it must needs be in some way fully satisfied. "Have not the boldness to say: 'I will go to confession and gain a plenary indulgence, and thus I shall be saved?' Remember that the full confession and entire contrition which are requisite to gain a plenary indulgence are not easily attained. Did you know how hardly they are come by, you would tremble with fear and be more sure of losing than of gaining them." EXTRACTS FROM THE FATHERS. [1] [Footnote 1: These extracts are purposely different from those quoted by the learned author of "Purgatory Surveyed," in that portion of his treatise herein comprised.] ST. CYPRIAN [1] writes: "Our predecessors prudently advised that no brother, departing this life should nominate any churchman his executor; and should he do it, that no oblation should be made for him, nor sacrifice offered for his repose; of which we have had a late example, when no oblation was made, nor prayer, in his name, offered in the Church." [2] [Footnote 1: Ep., xlvi., p. 114.] [Footnote 2: Cardinal Wiseman commenting upon this passage, says: "It was considered, therefore, a severe punishment, that prayers and sacrifices should not be offered up for those who had violated any of the ecclesiastical laws."--_Lectures on the Catholic Church._ Lecture xi., p. 59.] ORIGEN, who wrote in the same century as Cyprian, and some two hundred years after Christ, speaks as follows, in language the most distinct, upon our doctrine of Purgatory: "When we depart this life, if we take with us virtues or vices, shall we receive reward for our virtues, and shall those trespasses be forgiven to us which we knowingly committed; or shall we be punished for our faults, and not receive the reward of our virtues? Neither is true: because we shall suffer for our sins and receive the reward of our virtues. For if on the foundation of Christ you shall have built not only gold and silver and precious stones, but also wood and hay and stubble, what do you expect when the soul shall be separated from the body? Would you enter into Heaven with your wood, and hay, and stubble, to defile the Kingdom of God; or on account of those encumbrances remain without, and receive no reward for your gold and silver and precious stones? Neither is this just. It remains, then, that you be committed to the fire, which shall consume the light materials; for our God, to those who can comprehend heavenly things, is called a _consuming fire_. But this fire consumes not the creature, but what the creature has himself built--wood, and hay, and stubble. It is manifest that, in the first place, the fire destroys the wood of our transgressions, and then returns to us the reward of our good works." [1] [Footnote 1: Homil. xvi al. xii. in Jerem. T. iii. p. 231,232.] ST. BASIL, or a contemporary author, thus writes, commenting on the words of Isaiah: "Through the wrath of the Lord is the land burned; the things which are earthly are made the food of a punishing fire; to the end, that the soul may receive favor and be benefited." He continues: "And the people shall be as the fuel of the fire." (_Ibid_.) This is not a threat of extermination; but it denotes expurgation, [1] according to the expression of the Apostles: "If any man's works burn, he shall suffer loss, but he himself shall be saved, yet so as by fire." (1 Cor. iii. 15.) [2] [Footnote 1: Cardinal Wiseman in commenting upon this passage, says: "Now, mark well the word purgation here used. For it proves that our very term of Purgatory is not modern in the Church."--_Lectures on the Catholic Church_. Lecture xi., p. 60.] [Footnote 2: Com. in C., ix. Isai. T. I., p. 554.] The following is from ST. EPHREM, of Edessa: "My brethren, come to me, and prepare me for my departure, for my strength is wholly gone. Go along with me in psalms and in your prayers; and please constantly to make oblations for me. When the thirtieth day [1] shall be completed, then remember me: for the dead are helped by the offerings of the living. If also the sons of Mathathias, who celebrated their feasts in figures only, could cleanse those from guilt by their offerings who fell in battle, how much more shall the priests of Christ aid the dead by their oblations and prayers?" [2] [Footnote 1: "The very day," says Cardinal Wiseman, "observed by the Catholic Church with peculiar solemnity, in praying and observing Mass for the dead". Archbishop Corrigan, of New York, in announcing to the clergy of his diocese the death of His Eminence the late Cardinal McCloskey, speaks as follows: "The reverend rectors are also requested to have solemn services for the soul of our late beloved chief pastor, on the _seventh_ and _thirtieth_ day."] [Footnote 2: In Testament. T. ii., p. 334. p. 371, Edit. Oxen.] Thus speaks ST. GREGORY of Nyssa: "In the present life, God allows man to remain subject to what himself has chosen; that, having tasted of the evil which he desired, and learned by experience how bad an exchange has been made, he might feel an ardent wish to lay down the load of those vices and inclinations, which are contrary to reason; and thus, in this life, being renovated by prayers and the pursuit of wisdom, or, in the next, being expiated by the purging fire, he might recover the state of happiness which he had lost.... When he has quitted his body, and the difference between virtue and vice is known, he cannot be admitted to approach the Divinity till the purging fire shall have expiated the stains with which his soul was infected. The same fire, in others, will cancel the corruption of matter and the propensity to evil." [1] [Footnote 1: Orat. de Defunctis. T. ii., p. 1066, 1067, 1068.] ST. CYRIL of Jerusalem: "Then" (in the Liturgy of the Church) "we pray for the holy Fathers and Bishops that are dead; and, in short, for all those who are departed this life in our communion; believing that the souls of those, for whom the prayers, are offered, receive very great relief while this holy and tremendous victim lies upon the altar." [1] [Footnote 1: Catech. Mystag., V. N., ix., x., p. 328.] ST. EPIPHANIUS writes: "There is nothing more opportune, nothing more to be admired, than the rite which directs the names of the dead to be mentioned. They are aided by the prayer that is offered for them, though it may not cancel all their faults. We mention both the just and sinners, in order that for the latter we may obtain mercy." [1] [Footnote 1: Haer. IV. Lib. LXXV., T. i., p. 911.] ST. AUGUSTINE speaks as follows: "The prayers of the Church, or of good persons, are heard in favor of those Christians who departed this life not so bad as to be deemed unworthy of mercy, nor so good as to be entitled to immediate happiness. So also, at the resurrection of the dead, there will some be found, to whom mercy will be imparted, having gone through these pains, to which the spirits of the dead are liable. Otherwise it would not have been said of some with truth, that their sin shall not be forgiven, neither in this world nor in the world to come (Matt. xii., 32) unless some sins were remitted in the next world." [1] [Footnote 1: De Civit. Dei., Lib. XX, c. xxiv., p. 492.] In another passage he comments on the words of St. Paul: "If they had built _gold_ and _silver_ and _precious stones,_ they would be secure from both fires; not only from that in which the wicked shall be punished for ever, but likewise from that fire which will purify those who shall be saved by fire. But because it is said _he shall be saved,_ that fire is thought lightly of; though the suffering will be more grievous than anything man can undergo in this life." Let us hear ST. JEROME: [1] "As we believe the torments of the devil, and of those wicked men who said in their hearts _there is no God,_ to be eternal, so, in regard to those sinners who have not denied their faith, and whose works will be proved and purged by fire, we conclude that the sentence of the Judge will be tempered by mercy." [Footnote 1: Comment. in c. xv., Isai., T. ii., p. 492.] St. Jerome thus speaks in his letter to Paula, concerning the death and burial of her mother, Eustochium: "From henceforward there were no wailings nor lamentations as are usual amongst men of this world, but the swarms of those present resounded with psalms in various tongues. And being removed by the hands of the bishops, and by those placing their shoulders under the bier, while other pontiffs were carrying lamps and wax tapers, and others led the choirs of psalmodists, she was laid in the middle of the church of the cave of the Saviour.... Psalms resounded in the Hebrew, Greek, Latin, and Syriac tongues, not only during the three days intervening until she was laid under the church and near the cave of the Lord, but through the entire week." ST. AMBROSE has many passages throughout his works, as Dr. Wiseman remarks. Thus he quotes St. Paul's First Epistle to the Corinthians (iii., 5): "'If any man's works burn he shall suffer loss; but he shall be saved, yet so as by fire.' He will be saved, the Apostle said, because his substance shall remain, while his bad doctrine shall perish. Therefore, he said, yet so as by fife, in order that his salvation be not understood to be without pain. He shows that he shall be saved indeed, but he shall undergo the pain of fire, and be thus purified, not like the unbelieving and wicked man who shall be punished in everlasting fire." [1] [Footnote 1: Comment. in I Ep. ad Cor., T. ii.; in App, p. 122.] The following is from his funeral oration on the Emperor Theodosius: "Lately we deplored together his death, and now, while Prince Honorius is present before our altars, we celebrate the fortieth day. Some observe the third and the thirtieth, others the seventh and the fortieth. Give, O Lord, rest to Thy servant Theodosius, that rest which Thou hast prepared for Thy Saints. May his soul thither tend, whence it came, where it cannot feel the sting of death, where it will learn that death is the termination, not of nature, but of sin. I loved him, therefore will I follow him to the land of the living; I will not leave him, till, by my prayers and lamentation, he shall be admitted to the holy mount of the Lord to which his deserts call him." [1] [Footnote 1: De obitu. Theodosii. Ibid., pp. 1197-8; 1207-8.] He thus concludes his letter to ST. FAUSTINUS on the death of his sister: "Therefore I consider her not so much to be deplored as to be followed by our prayers, nor do I think that her soul should be saddened with tears, but rather commended to the Lord in oblations. For our flesh cannot be perpetual or lasting; it must necessarily fall in order that it may rise again--it must be dissolved in order that it may rest, and that there may be some end of sin." [1] [Footnote 1: St. Ambr., p. 39, ad Faustini, t. 2, p 944, ed. Ben.] In his funeral oration upon his brother Satyrus, he cries out: "To Thee now, O omnipotent God, I commend this innocent soul,--to Thee I offer my victim. Accept graciously and serenely the gift of the brother--the sacrifice of the priest." [Footnote 1: De excessu frateris satyri, No. 80, p. 1135.] In his discourse on the deceased Emperor Valentinian the Younger, murdered in 392: "Give the holy mysteries to the dead. Let us, with pious earnestness, beg repose for his soul. Lift up your hands with me, O people, that at least by this duty we may make some return for his benefits." [1] Joining him with the Emperor Gratian, his brother, dead some years before, he says: "Both blessed, if my prayers can be of any force! No duty shall pass over you in silence. No prayer of mine shall ever be closed without remembering you. No night shall pass you over without some vows of my supplications. You shall have a share in all my sacrifices. If I forget you let my own right hand be forgotten." [2] [Footnote 1: St. Ambr. de obitu Valent, No. 56, t. 2, p 1189, ed. Bened.] [Footnote 2: Ibid., No. 78, p. 1194.] "It was not in vain," says ST. CHRYSOSTOM, "that the apostles ordained a commemoration of the deceased in the holy and tremendous mysteries. They were sensible of the benefit and advantage which accrues to them from this practice. For, when the congregation stands with open arms as well as the priests, and the tremendous sacrifice is before them, how should our prayers for them not appease God? But this is said of such as have departed in faith." [1] [Footnote 1: Hom. 3 in Phil., t. n., p. 217 ed. Montfauc.] ST. AUGUSTINE again says: "Nor is it to be denied that the souls of the departed are relieved by the piety of their living friends, when the sacrifice of the Mediator is offered for them, or alms are given in the Church. But these things are profitable to those who, while they lived, deserved that they might avail them. There is a life so good as not to require them, and there is another so wicked that after death it can receive no benefit from them. When, therefore, the sacrifices of the altar or alms are offered for all Christians, for the very good they are thanksgivings, they are propitiations for those who are not very bad. For the very wicked, they are some kind of comfort to the living." In another of his works he says that prayer for the dead in the holy mysteries was observed by the whole church. He expounds the thirty- seventh Psalm as having reference to Purgatory. The words: "Rebuke me not in thy fury, neither chastise me in thy wrath," he explains as follows: "That you purify me in this life, and render me such that I may not stand in need of that purging fire." ARNOBIUS speaks of the public liturgies: "In which peace and pardon are begged of God for kings, magistrates, friends and enemies, both the living and those who are delivered from the body." To these few extracts, which space permits, might be added innumerable others from St. Clement of Alexandria, St. Athanasius, St. Paulinus, St. Eusebius, Lactantius, Tertullian, St. Caesarius of Arles, St. Bernard, Venerable Bede, St. Thomas Aquinas, and so on down to our own immediate time. Their testimony is most clear not only as regards the custom of praying for the dead, but the actual doctrine of Purgatory, as it is now understood in the Church. They are, in fact, in many cases most explicit upon this point, obviously referring to a middle state of suffering and expiation, and thus refuting by anticipation the objections of those who claim that the primitive Christians prayed indeed for the dead, but knew nothing of Purgatory: a contradiction, it would seem, as prayer for the dead, to be available, supposes a place or state of probation. But, even where the mention made by the Fathers of prayer for the dead does not refer expressly to a place of purgation, it is no more a proof that they did not hold this doctrine than that those modern Catholic authors disbelieve in it, who suppose this middle state of suffering to be admitted by their readers. Or even, which rarely happens, if they be silent altogether upon the subject, it no more infers their ignorance of such a belief than the same silence to be noted in theological and religious works of our own day. It proves no more than that they are at the time engaged in treating of some other subject. The following, which may serve as a conclusion to these extracts, is the solemn decision of the Council of Trent in regard to this doctrine: "The Church, inspired by the Holy Ghost, has always taught, according to the Holy Scriptures and apostolic tradition, that there is a Purgatory, and that the souls there detained receive comfort from the prayers and good works of the faithful, particularly through the sacrifice of the Mass, which is so acceptable to God." In the thirteenth Canon of the sixth session, it decrees that, "if any one should say that a repentant sinner, after having received the grace of justification, the punishment of eternal pains being remitted, has no temporary punishment to be suffered either in this life or in the next in Purgatory, before he can enter into the Kingdom of God, let him be anathema." In the third Canon of the twenty-fourth session, it defines "that the sacrifice of the Mass is propitiatory both for the living and the dead for sins, punishments and satisfactions." VERSES FROM THE IMITATION. THOMAS A KEMPIS. Trust not in thy friends and neighbors, and put not oft thy soul's welfare till the future; for men will forget thee sooner than thou thinkest. It is better to provide now in time and send some good before thee than to trust to the assistance of others after death. If thou art not solicitous for thyself now, who will be solicitous for thee hereafter. Did'st thou also well ponder in thy heart the future pains of hell or Purgatory, methinks thou would'st bear willingly labor and sorrow and fear no kind of austerity. Who will remember thee when thou art dead? and who will pray for thee? Now thy labor is profitable, thy tears are acceptable, thy groans are heard, thy sorrow is satisfying and purifieth the soul. The patient man hath a great and wholesome purgatory. Better is it to purge away our sins, and cut off our vices now, than to keep them for purgation hereafter. If thou shalt say thou are not able to suffer much, how then wilt thou endure the fire of Purgatory. Of two evils, one ought always to choose the less. When a Priest celebrateth, he honoreth God, he rejoiceth the Angels, he edifieth the Church, he helpeth the living, he obtaineth rest for the departed, and maketh himself partaker of all good things. I offer to Thee also all the pious desires of devout persons; the necessities of my parents, friends, brothers, sisters, and all those that are dear to me; ... and all who have desired and besought me to offer up prayers and Masses for themselves and all theirs, whether they are still living in the flesh or are already dead to this world. ST. AUGUSTINE AND HIS MOTHER, ST. MONICA. [In the beautiful account given by the great St. Augustine of the last illness and death of his holy mother, St. Monica, we find some touching proofs of the pious belief of mother and son in the existence of a middle state for souls in the after life. The holy doctor had been relating that memorable conversation on heavenly things which took place between his mother and himself on that moonlight night at the window in the inn at Ostia, immortalized by Ary Schaeffer in his beautiful picture.] To this what answer I made her I do not well remember. But scarce five days, or not many more, had passed after this before she fell into a fever: and one day, being very sick, she swooned away, and was for a little while insensible. We ran in, but she soon came to herself again, and looking upon me and my brother (Navigius), that were standing by her, said to us like one inquiring: "Where have I been?" then, beholding us struck with grief, she said: "Here you shall bury your mother." I held my peace and refrained weeping; but my brother said something by which he signified his wish, as of a thing more happy, that she might not die abroad but in her own country; which she hearing, with a concern in her countenance, and checking him with her eyes that he should have such notions, then looking upon me, said: "Do you hear what he says?" then to us both: "Lay this body anywhere; be not concerned about that; only this I beg of you, that wheresoever you be, you make remembrance of me at the Lord's altar." And when she had expressed to us this, her mind, with such words as she could, she said no more, but lay struggling with her disease that grew stronger upon her. * * * * * And now behold the body is carried out to be buried, and I both go and return without tears. Neither in those prayers, which we poured forth to Thee when the sacrifice of our ransom was offered to Thee for her, the body being set down by the grave before the interment of it, as custom is there, neither in those prayers, I say, did I shed any tears. * * * * * And now, my heart being healed of that wound in which a carnal affection might have some share, I pour out to Thee, our God, in behalf of that servant of Thine, a far different sort of tears, flowing from a spirit frighted with the consideration of the perils of every soul that dies in Adam. For, although she, being revived in Christ, even before her being set loose from the flesh and lived in such manner, as that Thy name is much praised in her faith and manners; yet I dare not say that from the time Thou didst regenerate her by baptism, no word came out of her mouth against Thy command.... I, therefore, O my Praise and my Life, the God of my heart, setting for a while aside her good deeds, for which with joy I give Thee thanks, entreat Thee at present for the sins of my mother. Hear me, I beseech Thee, through that Cure of our wounds that hung upon the tree, and that, sitting now at Thy right hand, maketh intercession to Thee for us. I know that she did mercifully, and from her heart forgive to her debtors their trespasses: do Thou likewise forgive her her debts, if she hath also contracted some in those many years she lived after the saving water.... And I believe Thou hast already done what I ask, but these free offerings of my mouth approve, O Lord. For she, when the day of her dissolution was at hand, had no thought for the sumptuous covering of her body, or the embalming of it, nor had she any desire of a fine monument, nor was solicitous about her sepulchre in her own country: none of these things did she recommend to us; but only desired that we should make a remembrance of her at Thy altar, at which she had constantly attended without one day's intermission, from whence she knew was dispensed that Holy Victim by which was cancelled that handwriting that was against us (Coloss. II.), by which that enemy was triumphed over who reckoneth up our sins and seeketh what he may lay to our charge, but findeth nothing in Him through whom we conquer. Who shall refund to Him that innocent blood He shed for us? Who shall repay Him the price with which He bought us, that so he may take us away from Him? To the sacrament of which price of our redemption Thy handmaid bound fast her soul by the bond of faith.... Let her, therefore, rest in peace, together with her husband, before whom and after whom she was known to no man; whom she dutifully served, bringing forth fruit to Thee, in much patience, that she might also gain him to Thee. And do Thou inspire, O Lord, my God, do Thou inspire Thy servants, my brethren, Thy children, my masters, whom I serve with my voice, and my heart, and my writings, that as many as shall read this shall remember, at Thy altar, Thy handmaid Monica with Patricius, formerly her husband. Let them remember, with a pious affection, these who were my parents in this transitory life, my brethren under Thee, our Father, in our Catholic Mother, and my fellow-citizens in the eternal Jerusalem, for which the pilgrimage of Thy people here below continually sigheth from their setting out till their return. That so what my mother made her last request to me may be more plentifully performed for her by the prayers of many, procured by these, my confessions, and my prayers. [1] [Footnote 1: Conf. B. IX. Chs. XI.-XIII.] ST. GERTRUDE AND THE HOLY SOULS. [In the "Life and Revelations of St. Gertrude" we find many instances of the efficacy of prayers for the dead and how pleasing to God is devotion to the souls in Purgatory. From these we select the following.] Our Blessed Lord once said to the Saint: "If a soul is delivered by prayer from Purgatory I accept it as if I had myself been delivered from captivity, and I will assuredly reward it according to the abundance of my mercy." The religious also beheld many souls meeting before her to testify their gratitude for their deliverance from Purgatory, through the prayers which had been offered for her, and which she had not needed. * * * * * As St. Gertrude prayed fervently before matins on the blessed night of the Resurrection, the Lord Jesus appeared to her full of majesty and glory. Then she cast herself at His feet, to adore Him devoutly and humbly, saying: "O glorious Spouse, joy of the angels, Thou who hast shown me the favor of choosing me to be Thy spouse, who am the least of Thy creatures! I ardently desire Thy glory, and my only friends are those who love Thee; therefore I beseech Thee to pardon the souls of Thy special friends [1] by the virtue of Thy most glorious Resurrection. And to obtain this grace from Thy goodness, I offer Thee, in union with Thy Passion, all the sufferings which my continual infirmities have caused me." Then Our Lord, having favored her with many caresses, showed her a great multitude of souls who were freed from their pains, saying: "Behold, I have given them to you as a recompense for your rare affection; and through all eternity they will acknowledge that they have been delivered by your prayers, and you will be honored and glorified for it." She replied: "How many are they?" He answered: "This knowledge belongs to God alone." As she feared that these souls, though freed from their pains, were not yet admitted to glory, she offered to endure whatever God might please, either in body or soul, to obtain their entrance into that beatitude; and Our Lord, won by her fervor, granted her request immediately. [Footnote 1: "This seems to refer," says the author of the Saint's life, "to the souls in Purgatory."] Some time after, as the Saint suffered most acute pain in her side, she made an inclination before a crucifix; and Our Lord freed her from the pain, and granted the merit of it to these souls, recommending them to make her a return by their prayers. * * * * * On Wednesday, at the elevation of the Host, she besought Our Lord for the souls of the faithful in Purgatory, that He would free them from their pains by virtue of His, admirable Ascension; and she beheld Our Lord descending into Purgatory with a golden rod in His hand, which had as many hooks as there had been prayers for their souls; by these He appeared to draw them into a place of repose. She understood by this, that whenever any one prays generally, from a motive of charity, for the souls in Purgatory, the greater part of those who, during their lives, have exercised themselves in works of charity, are released. * * * * * On another occasion, as she remarked that she had offered all her merits for the dead, she said to Our Lord: "I hope, O Lord, that Thou wilt frequently cast the eyes of Thy mercy on my indigence." He replied: "What can I do more for one who has thus deprived herself of all things through charity, than to cover her immediately with charity?" She answered: "Whatever Thou mayest do, I shall always appear before Thee destitute of all merit, for I have renounced all I have gained or may gain." He replied: "Do you not know that a mother would allow a child who was well clothed to sit at her feet, but she would take one who was barely clad into her arms, and cover her with her own garment?" He added: "And now, what advantages have you, who are seated on the shore of an ocean, over those who sit by a little rivulet?" That is to say, those who keep their good works for themselves, have the rivulet; but those who renounce them in love and humility, possess God, who is an inexhaustible ocean of beatitude. * * * * * On one occasion, while Mass was being celebrated for a poor woman who had died lately, St. Gertrude recited five _Pater Nosters_, in honor of Our Lord's five wounds, for the repose of her soul; and, moved by divine inspiration, she offered all her good works for the increase of the beatitude of this person. When she had made this offering, she immediately beheld the soul in heaven, in the place destined for her; and the throne prepared for her was elevated as far above the place where she had been, as the highest throne of the seraphim is above that of the lowest angel. The Saint then asked Our Lord how this soul had been worthy to obtain such advantage from her prayers, and He replied: "She has merited this grace in three ways: first, because she always had a sincere will and perfect desire of serving Me in religion, if it had been possible; secondly, because she especially loved all religious and all good people; thirdly, because she was always ready to honor Me by performing any service she could for them." He added: "You may judge, by the sublime rank to which she is elevated, how agreeable these practices are to Me." A certain religious died who had always been accustomed to pray very fervently for the souls of the faithful departed; but she had failed in the perfection of obedience, preferring her own will to that of her superior in her fasts and vigils. After her decease she appeared adorned with rich ornaments, but so weighed down by a heavy burden, which she was obliged to carry, that she could not approach to God, though many persons were endeavoring to lead her to Him. As Gertrude marvelled at this vision, she was taught that the persons who endeavored to conduct the soul to God were those whom she had released by her prayers; but this heavy burden indicated the faults she had committed against obedience. Then Our Lord said: "Behold how those grateful souls endeavor to free her from the requirements of My justice, and show these ornaments; nevertheless, she must suffer for her faults of disobedience and self-will." ... Then the Saint beheld her ornament, which appeared like a vessel of boiling water containing a hard stone, which must be completely dissolved therein before she could obtain relief from this torment; but in these sufferings she was much consoled and assisted by those souls, and by the prayers of the faithful. After this Our Lord showed St. Gertrude the path by which the souls ascend to heaven. It resembled a straight plank, a little inclined; so that those who ascended did so with difficulty. They were assisted and supported by hands on either side, which indicated the prayers offered for them. * * * * * One day St. Gertrude asked Our Lord how many souls were delivered from Purgatory by her prayers and those of her sisters. "The number," replied Our Lord, "is proportioned to the zeal and fervor of those who pray for them." He added: "My love urges me to release a great number of souls for the prayers of each religious, and at each verse of the psalms which they recite, I release many." * * * * * When Mass was offered for the deceased Brother Hermann, his soul appeared to St. Gertrude all radiant with light, and transported with joy. Then Gertrude said to Our Lord: "Is this soul now entirely freed from its sufferings?" Our Lord answered: "He is already free from much suffering, and no human being can form an idea of his glory; but he is not yet so perfectly purified as to be worthy to enjoy My presence, though he is approaching nearer and nearer to this purity by the prayers which are offered for him, and is more and more consoled and relieved." ST. JOSEPH'S INTERCESSION FOR THE FAITHFUL DEPARTED. _(From "Le Propagateur de la Devotion a Saint Joseph.")_ ST. FRANCIS DE SALES says: "We do not often enough remember our dead, our faithful departed." Thus the Church, like a good mother, recalls to us the thought of the dead when we have forgotten them, and therefore she consecrates the month of November to the memory of the dead. This pious and salutary practice of praying for an entire month for the dead takes its rise from the earliest ages of the Church. The custom of mourning _thirty days_ for the dead existed amongst the Jews. The practice of saying thirty Masses on thirty consecutive days was established by St. Gregory, and Innocent XI. enriched it with indulgences. "God has made known to me," says the venerable sister Marie Denise de Martignat, "that a devotion to the death of St. Joseph obtains many graces for those who are agonizing, and that, as St. Joseph did not at once pass into heaven--because Jesus Christ had not opened its gates--but descended into Limbo, it is a most useful devotion for the agonizing, and for the souls in Purgatory, to offer to God the resignation of St. Joseph when he was dying and about to leave Jesus and Mary in this world, and to honor the holy patience of this great Saint waiting calmly in Limbo until Easter-day, when Jesus Christ, risen and glorious, released him." And if St. Joseph consoles the souls in Purgatory, none will be so dear to him as those who were devout to him in life, and zealous in spreading a devotion to him. ST. FRANCIS DE SALES ON PURGATORY [1] [Footnote 1: Consoling Thoughts of St Francis de Sales. Arranged by Rev. Father Huguet. Pp. 336-7.] The opinion of St. Francis de Sales was that from the thought of Purgatory we should draw more consolation than pain. The greater number of those, he said, who fear Purgatory so much, do so in consideration of their own interests and of the love they bear themselves rather than the interests of God; and this happens because those who treat of this place from the pulpit usually speak of its pains and are silent in regard to the happiness and peace which are found in it.... When any of his friends or acquaintances died, he never grew weary of speaking fondly of them and recommending them to the prayers of others. His usual expression was: "We do not sufficiently remember our dead, our faithful departed;" and the proof of it is that we do not speak enough of them. We turn away from that discourse as from a sad subject. We leave the dead to bury their dead. Their memory perishes from us with the sound of their funeral-bell. We forget that the friendship which ends even with death, is never true, Holy Scripture assuring us that true love is stronger than death. He was accustomed to say that in this single work of mercy the thirteen others are assembled. Is it not, he said, in some manner, to visit the sick, to obtain by our prayers the relief of the poor suffering souls in Purgatory? Is it not to give drink to those who thirst after the vision of God, and who are enveloped in burning flames, to share with them the dew of our prayers? Is it not to feed the hungry, to aid in their deliverance by the means which faith suggests? Is it not truly to ransom prisoners? Is it not truly to clothe the naked, to procure for them a garment of light, a raiment of glory? Is it not an admirable degree of hospitality, to procure their admission into the heavenly Jerusalem, and to make them fellow-citizens with the Saints and domestics of God? Is it not a greater service to place souls in heaven than to bury bodies in the earth? As to spirituals, is it not a work whose merit may be compared to that of counselling the weak, correcting the wayward, instructing the ignorant, forgiving offenses, enduring injuries? And what consolation, however great, that can be given to the afflicted of this world, is comparable with that which is brought by our prayers to those poor souls which have such bitter need of them? CARDINAL GIBBONS ON PURGATORY. The Catholic Church teaches that, besides a place of eternal torments for the wicked and of everlasting rest for the righteous, there exists in the next life a middle state of temporary punishment, allotted for those who have died in venial sin, or who have not satisfied the justice of God for sins already forgiven. She also teaches us that, although the souls consigned to this intermediate state, commonly called Purgatory, cannot help themselves, they may be aided by the suffrages of the faithful on earth. The existence of Purgatory naturally implies the correlative dogma--the utility of praying for the dead; for the souls consigned to this middle state have not reached the term of their journey. They are still exiles from heaven, and are fit subjects for divine clemency. Is it not strange that this cherished doctrine should be called in question by the levelling innovators of the sixteenth century, when we consider that it is clearly taught in the Old Testament; that it is, at least, insinuated in the New Testament; that it is unanimously proclaimed by the Fathers of the Church; that it is embodied in all the ancient liturgies of the Oriental and Western Church; and that it is alike consonant with our reason and eminently consoling to the human heart? * * * * * You now perceive that this devotion is not an invention of modern times, but a doctrine universally enforced in the best and purest ages of the Church. You see that praying for the dead was not a devotion cautiously recommended by some obscure or visionary writer, but an act of religion preached and inculcated by all the great Doctors and Fathers of the Church, who are the recognized expounders of the Christian religion. You see them, too, inculcating this doctrine not as a cold and abstract principle, but as an imperative act of daily piety, and embodying it in their ordinary exercises of devotion. They prayed for the dead in their morning and evening devotions. They prayed for them in their daily office, and in the sacrifice of the Mass. They asked the prayers of the congregation for the souls of the deceased, in the public services of Sunday. And on the monuments which were erected to the dead, some of which are preserved even to this day, epitaphs were inscribed, earnestly invoking for their souls the prayers of the living. How gratifying it is to our Catholic hearts, that a devotion so soothing to afflicted spirits is, at the same time, so firmly grounded on the tradition of ages. That the practice of praying for the dead has descended from apostolic times is also evident from the _Liturgus_ of the Church. A Liturgy is the established form of public worship, containing the authorized prayers of the Church. The Missal, or Mass-book, for instance, which you see on our altars, contains a portion of the Liturgy of the Catholic Church. The principal Liturgies are: The Liturgy of St. James the Apostle, who founded the Church of Jerusalem; the Liturgy of St. Mark the Evangelist, founder of the Church of Alexandria, and the Liturgy of St. Peter, who established the Church in Rome. These Liturgies are called after the Apostles who compiled them. There are, besides, the Liturgies of St. Chrysostom and St. Basil, which are chiefly based on that of St. James. Now, all these Liturgies, without an exception, have prayers for the dead, and their providential preservation serves as another triumphant vindication of the venerable antiquity of this Catholic doctrine. The Eastern and the Western churches were happily united until the fourth and fifth centuries, when the heresiarchs Arius, Nestorius and Eutyches withdrew millions of souls from the centre of unity. The followers of these sects were called, after their founders, Arians, Nestorians, and Eutychians, and from that day to the present the two latter bodies have formed distinct communions, being separated from the Catholic Church in the East, just as the Protestant churches are separated from her in the West. The Greek Schismatic Church, of which the present Russo-Greek Church is the offspring, severed her connection with the See of Rome in the ninth century. But in leaving the Catholic Church, these Eastern sects retained the old Liturgies, which they use to this day.... During my sojourn in Rome, at the Ecumenical Council, I devoted a great deal of my leisure time to the examination of the various Liturgies of the Schismatic churches of the East. I found in all of them formulas of prayers for the dead almost identical with that of the Roman Missal: "Remember, O Lord, Thy servants who are gone before us with the sign of faith, and sleep in peace. To these, O Lord, and to all who rest in Christ, grant, we beseech Thee, a place of refreshment, light, and peace, through the same Jesus Christ our Lord!" Not content with studying their books, I called upon the Oriental Patriarchs and Bishops in communion with the See of Rome, who belong to the Armenian, the Chaldean, the Coptic, the Maronite, and Syriac rites. They all assured me that the Schismatic Christians of the East among whom they live have, without exception, prayers and sacrifices for the dead. Now, I ask, when could those Eastern sects have commenced to adopt the Catholic practice of praying for the dead? They could not have received it from us since the ninth century, because the Greek Church separated from us then, and has had no communion with us since that time, except at intervals, up to the twelfth century. Nor could they have adopted the practice since the fourth or fifth century, inasmuch as the Arians, Nestorians, and Eutychians have had no religious communication with us since that period. Therefore, in common with us, they received this doctrine from the Apostles.... I have already spoken of the devotion of the ancient Jewish Church to the souls of the departed. But perhaps you are not aware that the Jews retain to this day, in their Liturgy, the pious practice of praying for the dead. Yet such in reality is the case. Amid all their wanderings and vicissitudes of life, though dismembered and dispersed, like sheep without a shepherd, over the surface of the globe, the children of Israel have never forgotten or neglected the sacred duty of praying for their deceased brethren. Unwilling to make this assertion without the strongest evidence, I procured from a Jewish convert an authorized Prayer-book of the Hebrew Church, from which I extract the following formula of prayers which are prescribed for funerals: "Departed brother! mayest thou find open the gates of heaven, and see the city of peace and the dwellings of safety, and meet the ministering angels hastening joyfully towards thee! And may the High Priest stand to receive thee, and go thou to the end, rest in peace, and rise again _into_ life! May the repose established in the celestial abode... be the lot, dwelling, and the resting place of the soul of our deceased brother (whom the spirit of the Lord may guide into Paradise), who departed from this world, according to the will of God, the Lord of heaven and earth. May the Supreme King of Kings, through His infinite mercy, hide him under the shadow of His wings. May He raise him at the end of his days, and cause him to drink of the stream of His delights!" I am happy to say that the more advanced and enlightened members of the Episcopalian Church are steadily returning to the faith of their forefathers, regarding prayers for the dead. An acquaintance of mine, once a distinguished clergyman of the Episcopal communion, but now a convert, informed me that hundreds of Protestant clergymen in this country, and particularly in England, have a firm belief in the efficacy of prayers for the dead, but for well-known reasons they are reserved in the expression of their faith. He easily convinced me of the truth of his assertion, particularly as far as the Church of England is concerned, by sending me six different works published in London, all bearing on the subject of Purgatory. These books are printed under the auspices of the Protestant Episcopal Church; they all contain prayers for the dead, and prove, from Catholic grounds, the existence of a middle state after death, and the duty of praying for our deceased brethren. [1] [Footnote 1: See "Path of Holiness," Rivington's, London: "Treasury of Devotion," Ibid; "Catechism of Theology," Masten, London.] To sum up: we see the practice of praying for the dead enforced in the ancient Hebrew Church, and in the Jewish synagogue of to-day. We see it proclaimed age after age by all the Fathers of Christendom. We see it incorporated in every one of the ancient Liturgies of the East and of the West. We see it zealously taught by the Russian Church of to-day, and by that immense family of schismatic Christians scattered over the East. We behold it, in fine, a cherished devotion of two hundred millions of Catholics, as well as of a respectable portion of the Episcopal Church. Would it not, my friend, be the height of rashness and presumption in you to prefer your private opinion to this immense weight of learning, sanctity, and authority? Would it not be impiety in you to stand aside with sealed lips, while the Christian world is sending up an unceasing _De profundis_ for departed brethren? Would it not be cold and heartless in you not to pray for your deceased friends, on account of prejudices which have no grounds in Scripture, tradition, or reason itself? * * * * * Oh! far from us a religion which would decree an eternal divorce between the living and the dead. How consoling is it to the Catholic, to think that, in praying thus for his departed friend, his prayers are not in violation of, but in accordance with, the voice of the Church; and that as, like Augustine, he watches at the pillow of a dying mother, so, like Augustine, he can continue the same office of piety for her soul after she is dead, by praying for her. How cheering the reflection that the golden link of prayer unites you still to those who "fall asleep in the Lord," and that you can still speak to them and pray for them!.... Oh! it is this thought that robs death of its sting and makes the separation of friends endurable. And if your departed friend needs not your prayers, they are not lost, but, like the rain absorbed by the sun, and descending again in fruitful showers on our fields, they will be gathered by the Sun of Justice, and they will come down in refreshing showers of grace upon your head. "Cast thy bread upon the running waters; for, after a long time, thou shalt find it again." [1] [Footnote 1: Faith of our Fathers, chap. xvi.] THE DOCTRINE OF PURGATORY. ARCHBISHOP HUGHES. [1] [Footnote 1: Answer to nine objections made.] The Catholic Church does not believe that God created any to be damned absolutely, notwithstanding their co-operation with the means of salvation which were secured to them by the death of Jesus Christ; nor any to be saved absolutely, unless they co-operate with those means. Hence she has ever taught the doctrine which is inculcated in Scripture, that heaven may be obtained by all who shall apply the means which the Saviour of the World has left in His Church for that end: in a word, that every man shall be judged according to his works. This doctrine is consonant with the justice which must belong to the Deity. She knows God is too pure to admit anything defiled into His heavenly abode (Apoc. xxi. 27); and yet too just and merciful to punish a slight transgression with the same severity as is due to an enormous crime. Now, suppose two men to sin against God at the same time, the one by the deliberate murder of his father--for the case is possible--and the other, by a slight, almost inadvertent, falsehood; and suppose, further, that they are both to appear before God the next moment to answer for the deeds done in the flesh, I ask whether it is consistent with the idea we have of divine justice to think that both will be condemned to the same everlasting punishment? If it be, then there is no more moral turpitude in parricide than in telling a trivial falsehood, which injures no one, but still is offensive and displeasing to God. But if it be not consistent with divine justice, then you must admit the distinction of guilt, and consequently of punishment. Now, that God exacts a temporary punishment for sin, after the guilt and eternal punishment are remitted, appears from the testimony of His Sacred Word. St. Paul teaches that the death of the body is a punishment which the sin of our first parent entailed on his progeny; and yet many who have been regenerated by baptism from that original guilt, nevertheless die before they have committed any actual sin whatever. The children of Israel had to leave their bones in the wilderness, after the forty years' sojournment, as a punishment, inflicted by the Almighty Himself, for sins which He had expressly forgiven them. Num. xiv. 20, 22. David was forgiven his sin--and yet he was punished for it, by the death of his child, whom he loved most tenderly. He sinned by numbering his people; and although it was forgiven him, he had still to choose his punishment--either war, famine, or pestilence. If such be the dispensation of God to His creatures in this world, why may it not be also after death? Will you say it is because the body is the medium of suffering in this life? This is not exactly true--the body, indeed, is the medium, in many instances, through which the soul is made to suffer. But God inflicted no corporal chastisement on David by taking his child--it was the king's soul that was touched, and felt, and suffered. Does not the soul remain susceptible of suffering after death; and may not God, conformably with the examples here laid down, extend to it in a future state the same salutary dispensation, for His own just and merciful purposes? But you will ask what Scripture I can quote to show that He really does so. Now, suppose I were to refer you to the same rule, and demand from you the text by which you feel warranted to profane the Sabbath, and sanctify the Sunday in its stead--what will you have to answer in reply? Surely if the authority of the Catholic Church is sufficient to authorize your _practice_ in the one case, it is equally so with regard to my belief in the other. But our situations are very different; because I admit the authority of the Church in both instances, and I shall prove that her doctrine of Purgatory, so far from opposing, is grounded on Scripture. Whereas you reject the Church, you make, as you say, the Scripture the _only rule_ of your faith; and yet when the Scripture says, "Thou shalt keep holy the Sabbath day," you say I will not sanctify the Sabbath, but I will sanctify the day after.... This tenet of belief is proved by every text of Scripture in which it is implied that God will render to every man according to his works.... If the word Purgatory has anything in it peculiarly offensive, you will not be the less a Catholic for rejecting it, and using the Scriptural word _prison_, provided you admit that such a place exists; in which God after having forgiven the guilt and temporal punishment of their sins, causes the souls of the imperfect just to undergo, nevertheless, a temporary chastisement, as David did in this life, before admitting them into the realms of felicity. Now, if this be so, is it not rational to believe that the mercy of God will be moved by the prayers of His faithful servants on earth, who intercede in behalf of their departed brethren?... In a word, the economy of God to His creatures even in this life is consistent with the doctrine of Purgatory. PURGATORY AND WHAT WE OWE TO THE DEAD. ARCHBISHOP LYNCH. The infallible Church, the spouse of the Holy Ghost, the Pillar and Ground of Truth and the true teacher of the doctrine of Christ, has, in the distribution of her feasts and festivals, set apart one day in the year, the second of November, in favor of the suffering souls in Purgatory. She calls on all her children to assemble around her sacred altars, to assist and pray at the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass for the deliverance from Purgatory of the souls of those who, whilst dying in peace with Our Lord, still had debts to pay to His infinite justice. These debts were contracted by the commission of mortal sin, whose grievous fault, though removed by the Sacrament of Penance, yet left on the soul a debt which was not sufficiently atoned for, or by the commission of venial sin not sufficiently repented of. Purgatory is one of the great consoling doctrines of the Church of Christ. Only the pure and perfect can enter Heaven; and how few persons leave this earth of temptation, sin, and trouble in that state of purity and perfection! If there were not a place of purification, how few could go straight to Heaven! Nearly the whole human race would be deprived forever of the beatific vision of God. God has chosen this way of exhibiting His justice and mercy: His justice, by exacting the last particle of debt; and His mercy, by saving the poor repentant sinner. God rewards every one according to his works. Some are imperfect through want of pure intention, through carelessness, vanity, or other causes, like the hay and stubble adhering to gold and precious stones which dull their lustre. * * * * * Oh, how few are perfect, and how few do penance in proportion to their sins! How few, in their dealing with their fellow-men, giving measure for measure, goods equal to the money paid for them, or services equal to the pay received! How many fail in charity, in words and actions! How many prayers said carelessly and without thought, even at the most solemn times! These will have to be repeated, as it were, in Purgatory. How many will suffer from their want of charity and mercy to the poor, and failing to pay their just dues to God's Church for the spiritual favors they receive from it! "If we give you," says St. Paul, "spiritual things, you should administer to us temporal things."... All spiritual writers agree that the pains of Purgatory are intense, yet the souls are satisfied to suffer till the last debt is paid. They would not wish to enter Heaven with stains on their souls. God, in His great mercy, has permitted some souls suffering in Purgatory to appear to friends on earth to solicit their prayers and Masses, and to pay their debts. This the Lives of the Saints and Ecclesiastical History at all times attest. In these days when faith is fading from some minds, even in the Church, it behooves especially the Bishops to remind the faithful of their duties and obligations to their departed friends. It is thought by some that an expensive funeral, with its many carriages, and a grand monument over the grave, will satisfy all the requirements of decency and of family love. Alas! if the dead could only speak from their graves, they would cry out and say, "All these monuments and this worldly pageantry only crush us. They only satisfy the vanity of the living, but in no way alleviate our sufferings in Purgatory."... But the Bishops must, from time to time, remind the people of their duty towards God's servants suffering in Purgatory. In olden times, when faith, love, and affection were stronger than now, devotion towards the souls in Purgatory showed itself in numerous foundations in favor of the souls in Purgatory. Churches and canonries where Masses were celebrated every day by canons and monks, benefices for the education of poor students, hospitals for the care of the sick, periodical distribution of alms to the poor, to have rosaries and other prayers said and pilgrimages made for the souls in Purgatory. All these have been swept away by the ruthless hand of the civil power, wishing to reform the Church; and even at the present day, when the Christian soul is about to appear before the judgment-seat, there are legal impediments in the way of his making by will donations for prayers or Masses. Therefore, my dear people, whilst you are well make provision for your own soul. Do not entrust it to the care of others who cannot love you more than you love yourselves. * * * * * This doctrine of Purgatory has always been taught in the Church and handed down from bishops and priests to their successors in the sacred ministry, and by the voice of the people. "Stand fast, and hold the tradition you have learned, whether by word or by our epistle." (II. Thess. ii. 14.) Now prayers and Masses for the dead are to be found in every ancient liturgy of the Church. There is no Oriental liturgy without prayers for those who have departed in peace. The Apostolic Constitutions--the most ancient and genuine work--speak largely of prayers for the dead, for the conversion of sinners. There are religious congregations and pious associations specially devoted to the relief of the souls in Purgatory. St. Vincent de Paul ordered the priests of his congregation never to go to meals without first saying the _De Profundis_ for the souls in Purgatory. The Church ends all the prayers of the divine office with: "May the souls of the faithful departed, through the mercy of God, rest in peace." One may turn away with a sad thought from a tomb on which is not engraved: "May he rest in peace," or on which a cross--the emblem of our hope in God and in a happy resurrection--does not figure. We exhort you, beloved children in Christ, to entertain an earnest charity towards the souls in Purgatory. You loved them during life; do not let it be said: "Out of sight, out of mind." Love them in death or, living, wishing earnestly to go to God. This charity will greatly help yourselves. If a cup of cold water given to a servant of God shall not go without its reward, how much more a cup of celestial grace, that will shorten the time in the flames of Purgatory of a soul that most ardently longs to see God, who desires it Himself with great love, and will reward those who shorten the exile of His dear servants. "Those," says St. Alphonsus Liguori, "who succor the souls in Purgatory will be succored in turn by the gratitude of those whom they have relieved, and who enjoy sooner, by their prayers, the beatific vision of God." * * * * * The Council of Trent, under the inspiration of the Holy Ghost, has made decrees on the subject which bind the consciences of the faithful. In the Thirteenth Canon of the Sixth Session it decrees "that if any one should say that a repentant sinner, after having received the grace of justification, the punishment of eternal pains being remitted, has no temporary punishment to be suffered, either in this life or in the next, in Purgatory, before he can enter into the Kingdom of God, let him be anathema." Though King David was assured, after his sincere repentance, that his sin was forgiven, yet the Prophet told him that he had still to suffer by the death of his child. In the Twenty-fourth Session and Third Canon the Holy Council defines that the Sacrifice of the Mass is propitiatory, both for the living and the dead, for sins, punishments, satisfactions, and for other necessities, according to Apostolic traditions; and the Bishop, when he ordains, places the patena and chalice, with the bread and wine, in the hands of the young priest and says to him: "Receive the power to offer to God the Sacrifice of the Mass, as well for the living as for the dead, in the name of the Lord. Amen." The Holy Sacrifice of the Mass is, therefore, the most powerful means of relieving the souls in Purgatory; next is the fervent performance of the Stations of the Cross, to which so many indulgences are attached; then other indulgenced prayers; for example, the Rosary. Alms to the poor is another powerful means. "Blessed are the merciful, for they shall obtain mercy." There is another means which our ancestors loved--to educate a student for the priesthood. St. Monica rejoiced, on her death-bed, that she had a son to remember her every day at the altar. If you have not a son you can adopt one, or subscribe, according to your means, to the Students' Fund. It is the custom in many places--and we wish that it should be introduced where it is not--to receive the offerings of the people on All Souls' Day, or the Sunday previous, or subsequent, and the proceeds to be computed and Masses offered up accordingly. We attach the indulgences of the Way of the Cross to certain crucifixes, and thus enable persons who cannot conveniently visit the Church to make the Stations there, to gain the indulgences of the Stations by reciting fourteen times the "Our Father" and "Hail Mary," with a "Glory be to the Father," etc., for each Station, and five "Our Fathers" and "Hail Marys" in honor of the five Adorable Wounds, with one for the intentions of the Pope. PURGATORY SURVEYED. [1] [Footnote 1: Published by Burns & Oates, London.] FATHER BINET, S. J. [The following passages are taken from a most excellent and valuable work, "Purgatory Surveyed," edited by the late lamented Dr. Anderdon, S. J., being by him "disposed, abridged, or enlarged," from a treatise by Father Binet, a French Jesuit, published at Paris in 1625, at Douay in 1627, and translated soon after by Father Richard Thimbleby, an English member of the Society of Jesus. Says Dr. Anderdon in his preface: "The alterations ventured upon in this reprint, consist chiefly in the mode of punctuation, which, being probably left to a French compositor, are anomalous, and often perplexing. Some expressions, so obsolete as to prevent the sense being clear, and in the same degree lessening the value of the book to the general reader, have been exchanged for others in more common use.... Let us earnestly hope that, at this moment, on the threshold of the month specially dedicated by the Church to devotion on behalf of the Holy Souls, the joint work of Fathers Binet and Thimbleby may produce an abundant harvest of intercession. If, during their own brief time of trial, they were inspired to put together and to enforce such powerful motives to stir up the faithful to this devotion, will they not now rejoice in the re-production of their act of zeal and charity? During the two hundred and fifty years which have elapsed since the first publication of the French work, many changes and revolutions have taken place in the histories of those spots of earth, known as France and England. But the History of Purgatory is ever the same; "happiness and unhappiness" combined; both unspeakably great; long detention, perhaps, or perhaps swift release, according to the degree of faith and charity animating the Church militant. May we now, and henceforth, realize in act, in habitual practice, and, all the more, from the considerations given in the following pages, the immense privilege of holding, to so great a degree, the keys of Purgatory in our hands."] Believe it, it is one of the first rudiments, but main principles, of a Christian, to captivate his understanding, and so regulate all his dictamens, that they be sure to run parallel with the sentiments of the Church. And this I take to be the case when the question is started about Purgatory fire, which I shall ever reckon in the class of those truths, which cannot be contradicted without manifest temerity; as being the doctrine generally preached and taught all over Christendom. You must, then, conceive Purgatory to be a vast, darksome and hideous chaos, full of fire and flames, in which the souls are kept close prisoners, until they have fully satisfied for all their misdemeanors, according to the estimate of Divine justice. For God has made choice of this element of fire wherewith to punish souls, because it is the most active, piercing, sensible, [1] and insupportable of all others. But that which quickens it, indeed, and gives it more life, is this: that it acts as the instrument of God's justice, who, by His omnipotent power, heightens and reinforces its activity as He pleases, and so makes it capable to act upon bodiless spirits. Do not, then, look only upon this fire, though in good earnest it be dreadful enough of itself; but consider the Arm that is stretched out, and the Hand that strikes, and the rigor of God's infinite justice, who, through this element of fire, vents His wrath, and pours out whole tempests of His most severe and yet most just vengeance. So that the fire works as much mischief, [2] as I may say, to the souls, as God commands; and He commands as much as is due; and as much is due as the sentence bears: a sentence irrevocably pronounced at the high tribunal of the severe and rigorous justice of an angry God, and whose anger is so prevalent that the Holy Scripture styles it "a day of fury." Now, you will easily believe that this fire is a most horrible punishment in its own nature; but you may do well to reflect also on that which I have now suggested; that the fury of Almighty God is, as it were, the fire of this fire, and the heat of its heat; and that He serves Himself of it as He pleases, by doubling and redoubling its sharp pointed forces; for this is that which makes it the more grievous and insupportable to the souls that are thus miserably confined and imprisoned. [Footnote 1: _i.e._, apprehended by the senses] [Footnote 2: _i.e._, Not implying injury, far less injustice; but simply punishment and suffering] They were not much out of the way, that styled Purgatory a transitory kind of hell, because the principal pains of the damned are to be found there; with this only difference, that in hell they are eternal, and in Purgatory they are only transitory and fleeting: for, otherwise, it is probably the very same fire that burns both the Holy Souls and the damned spirits; and the pain of loss is, in both places, the chief torment.... Now, does not your hair stand on end? does not your heart tremble, when you hear that the poor souls in Purgatory are tormented with the same, or the like flames to those of the damned? Can you refrain from crying out, with the Prophet Isaias: "Who can dwell with such devouring fire, and unquenchable burnings?" Heavens! what a lamentable case is this! Those miserable souls, who of late, when they were wedded to their bodies, were so nice and dainty, forsooth, that they durst scarce venture to enjoy the comfortable heat of a fire, but under the protection of their screens and their fans, for fear of spoiling their complexions, and if, by chance, a spark had been so rude as to light upon them, or a little smoke, it was not to be endured:... --Alas! how will it fare with them, when they shall see themselves tied to unmerciful firebrands, or imbodied, as it were, with flames of fire, surrounded with frightful darkness, broiled and consumed without intermission, and perhaps condemned to the same fire with which the devils are unspeakably tormented? (Pages 4-7.) * * * * * Good God! how the great Saints and Doctors astonish me when they treat of this fire, and of the pain of sense, as they call it! For they peremptorily pronounce that the fire that purges those souls, those both happy and unhappy souls, surpasses all the torments that are to be found in this miserable life of man, or are possible to be invented, for so far they go... Thus they discourse: The fire and the pains of the other world are of another nature from those of this life, because God elevates them above their nature to be instruments of His severity. Now, say they, things of an inferior degree can never reach the power of such things as are of a higher rank. For example, the air, let it be ever so inflated, unless it be converted into fire, can never be so hot as fire. Besides, God bridles His rigor in this world; but, in the next, He lets the reins loose and punishes almost equally to the desert. And, since those souls have preferred creatures before their Creator, He seems to be put upon a necessity of punishing them beyond the ordinary strength of creatures; and hence it is that the fire of Purgatory burns more, torments and inflicts more, than all the creatures of this life are able to do. But is it really true that the least pain in Purgatory exceeds the greatest here upon earth? O God! the very statement makes me tremble for fear, and my very heart freezes into ice with astonishment. And yet, who dare oppose St. Augustine, St. Thomas, St. Anselm, St. Gregory the Great? Is there any hope of carrying the negative assertion against such a stream of Doctors, who all maintain the affirmative, and bring so strong reasons for it?... * * * * * But for Thy comfort, there are Doctors in the Catholic Church that cannot agree with so much severity; and, namely, St. Bonaventure, who is very peremptory in denying it. "For, what way is there," says this holy Doctor, "to verify so great a paradox, without sounding reason, and destroying the infinite mercy of God? I am easily persuaded there are torments in Purgatory far exceeding any in this mortal life; this is most certain, and it is but reasonable it should be so; but that the least there should be more terrible than the most terrible in the world cannot enter into my belief. May it not often fall out that a man comes to die in a most eminent state of perfection, save only, that in his last agony, out of mere frailty, he commits a venial sin, or carries along with him some relic of his former failings, which might have been easily blotted out with a _Pater Noster_, or washed away with a little holy water; for I am supposing it to be some very small matter. Now, what likelihood is there, I will not say, that the infinite mercy of God, but that the very rigor of His justice, though you conceive it to be ever so severe, should inflict so horrible a punishment upon this holy soul, as not to be equalled by the greatest torments in this life; and all this for some petty fault scarce worth the speaking of? How! would you have God, for a kind of trifle, to punish a soul full of grace and virtue, and so severely to punish her as to exceed all the racks, cauldrons, furnaces, and other hellish inventions, which are scarce inflicted upon the most execrable criminals in the world?" (Pp. 9-11.) * * * * * It is not the fire, nor all the brimstone and tortures they endure, which murders them alive. No, no; it is the domestical cause of all these mischiefs that racks their consciences and is their crudest executioner. This, this is the greatest of their evils; for a soul that has shaken off the fetters of flesh and blood, and is full of the love of God, no more disordered with unruly passions, nor blinded with the night of ignorance, sees clearly the vast injury she has done to herself to have offended so good a God, and to have deserved to be thus banished out of His sight and deprived of that Divine fruition. She sees how easily she might have flown up straight to heaven at her first parting with her body, and what trifle it was that impeded her. A moment lost of those inebriating joys, seems to her now worthy to be redeemed with an eternity of pains. Then, reflecting with herself that she was created only for God, and cannot be truly satisfied but by enjoying God, and that, out of Him, all this goodly machine of the world is no better than a direct hell and an abyss of evils. Alas! what worms, what martyrdoms, and what nipping pincers are such pinching thoughts as these. The fire is to her but as smoke in comparison to this vexing remembrance of her own follies, which betrayed her to this disgraceful and unavoidable misfortune. There was a king who, in a humor gave away his crown and his whole estate, for the present refreshment of a cup of cold water; but, returning a little to himself and soberly reflecting what he had done, had like to have run stark mad to see the strange, irreparable folly he had committed. To lose a year, or two years (to say no more), of the beatifical vision for a glass of water, for a handful of earth, for the love of a fading beauty, for a little air of worldly praise, a mere puff of honor--ah! it is the hell of Purgatory to a soul that truly loves God and frames a right conceit of things. (Pp. 14, 15.) * * * * * Confusion is one of the most intolerable evils that can befall a soul; and, therefore, St. Paul, speaking of Our blessed Saviour, insists much upon this, that He had the courage and the love for us all to overcome the pain of a horrible confusion, which doubtless is an insupportable evil to a man of intelligence and courage. Tell me, then, if you can, what a burning shame and what a terrible confusion it must be to those noble and generous souls, to behold themselves overwhelmed with a confused chaos of fire, and such a base fire which affords no other light but a sullen glimmering, choked up with a sulphureous and stinking smoke; and in the interim to know that the souls of many country clowns, mere idiots, poor women and simple religious persons, go straight up to heaven, whilst they lie there burning--they that were so knowing, so rich and so wise; they that were counsellors to kings, eminent preachers of God's word, and renowned oracles in the world; they that were so great divines, so great statesmen, so capable of high employments. This confusion is much heightened by their further knowing how easily they might have avoided all this and would not. Sometimes they would have given whole mountains of gold to be rid of a stone in the kidneys or a fit of the gout, colic or burning fever, and for a handful of silver they might have redeemed many years' torments in that fiery furnace; and, alas! they chose rather to give it to their dogs and their horses, and sometimes to men more beasts than they and much more unworthy. Methinks this thought must be more vexing than the fire itself, though never so grievous. And yet there remains one thought more, which certainly has a great share in completing their martyrdom; and that is the remembrance of their children or heirs which they left behind them; who swim in nectar and live jollily on the goods which they purchased with the sweat of their brows, and yet are so ungrateful, so brutish, and so barbarous that they will scarce vouchsafe to say a Pater Noster in a whole month for their souls who brought them into the world, and who, to place them in a terrestrial paradise of all worldly delights, made a hard venture of their own souls and had like to have exchanged a temporal punishment for an eternal. The leavings and superfluities of their lackeys, a throw of dice, and yet less than that, might have set them free from these hellish torments; and these wicked, ungrateful wretches would not so much as think on it. (Pp. 31-33.) * * * * * Before I leave off finishing this picture, or put a period to the representation of the pains of Purgatory, I cannot but relate a very remarkable history which will be as a living picture before your eyes. But be sure you take it not to be of the number of those idle stories which pass for old wives' tales, or mere imaginations of cracked brains and simple souls. No; I will tell you nothing but what Venerable Bede, so grave an author, witnesses to have happened in his time, and to have been generally believed all over England without contradiction, and to have been the cause of wonderful effects; and which is so authenticated that Cardinal Bellarmine, a man of such judgment as the world knows, having related it himself, concludes thus: "For my part I firmly believe this history, as very conformable to the Holy Scripture, and whereof I can have no doubt without wronging truth and wounding my own conscience, which ought readily to yield assent unto that which is attested by so many and so credible witnesses and confirmed by such holy and admirable events." About the year of our Lord 690, a certain Englishman, in the county of Northumberland, by name Brithelmus, being dead for a time, was conducted to the place of Purgatory by a guide, whose countenance and apparel was full of light; you may imagine it was his good Angel. Here he was shown two broad valleys of a vast and infinite length, one full of glowing firebrands and terrible flames, the other as full of hail, ice, and snow; and in both these were innumerable souls, who, as with a whirlwind, were tossed up and down out of the intolerable scorching flames, into the insufferable rigors of cold, and out of these into those again, without a moment of repose or respite. This he took to be hell, so frightful were those torments; but his good Angel told him no, it was Purgatory, where the souls did penance for their sins, and especially such as had deferred their conversion until the hour of death; and that many of them were set free before the Day of Judgment for the good prayers, alms, and fasts of the living, and chiefly by the holy Sacrifice of the Mass. Now this holy man, being raised again from death to life by the power of God, first made a faithful relation of all that he had seen, to the great amazement of the hearers, then retired him self into the church and spent the whole night in prayer; and soon after, gave away his whole estate, partly to his wife and children, partly to the poor, and taking upon him the habit and profession of a monk, led so austere a life that even if his tongue had been silent, yet his life and conversation spake aloud what wonders he had seen in the other world. Sometimes they would see him, old as he was, in freezing water up to his ears, praying and singing with much sweetness and incredible fervor; and if they asked him, "Brother, alas! how can you suffer such sharp and biting cold?" "O my friends," would he say, "I have seen other manner of cold than this." Thus, when he even groaned under the voluntary burden of a world of most cruel mortifications, and was questioned how it was possible for a weak and broken body like his to undergo such austerities, "Alas! my dear brethren," would he still say, "I have seen far greater austerities than these: they are but roses and perfumes in comparison of what I have seen in the subterraneous lakes of Purgatory." And in these kinds of austerities he spent the remainder of his life and made a holy end, and purchased an eternal paradise, for having had but a sight of the pains of Purgatory. And we, dear Christians, if we believed in good earnest, or could but once procure to have a true sight or apprehension of them, should certainly have other thoughts and live in another fashion than we do. (Pp. 44-46.) * * * * * Now, would you clearly see how the souls can at the same instant swim in a paradise of delights and yet be overwhelmed with the hellish torments of Purgatory? Cast your eyes upon the holy martyrs of God's Church, and observe their behavior. They were torn, mangled, dismembered, flayed alive, racked, broiled, burnt--and tell me, was not this to live in a kind of hell? And yet, in the very height of their torments their hearts and souls were ready to leap for joy; you would have taken them to be already transported into heaven. Hear them but speak for themselves. "O lovely cross," cried out St. Andrew, "made beautiful by the precious Body of Christ, how long have I desired thee, and with what care have I sought thee! and now, that I have found thee, receive me into thine arms, and lift me up to my dear Redeemer! O death, [1] how amiable art thou in my eyes, and how sweet is thy cruelty!" "Your coals," said St. Cecily, "your flaming firebrands, and all the terrors of death, are to me but as so many fragrant roses and lilies, sent from heaven." "Shower down upon me," cried St. Stephen, "whole deluges of stones, whilst I see the heavens open and Jesus Christ standing at the right side of His Eternal Father, to behold the fidelity of His champion." "Turn," exclaimed St. Lawrence, "oh! turn, the other side, thou cruel tyrant, this is already broiled, and cooked fit for thy palate. Oh, how well am I pleased to suffer this little Purgatory for the love of my Saviour!" "Make haste, O my soul," cried St. Agnes, "to cast thyself upon the bed of flames which thy dear Spouse has prepared for thee!" "Oh," cried St. Felicitas, and the mother of the Machabees, "Oh, that I had a thousand children, or a thousand lives, to sacrifice them all to my God. What a pleasure it is to suffer for so good a cause!" "Welcome tyrants, tigers, lions," writes St. Ignatius the Martyr; "let all the torments that the devils can invent come upon me, so I may enjoy my Saviour. I am the wheat of Christ; oh, let me be ground with the lions' teeth. Now I begin indeed to be the disciple of Christ." "Oh, the happy stroke of a sword," might St. Paul well exclaim, "that no sooner cuts off my head, but it makes a breach for my soul to enter into heaven. Let it be far from me to glory in anything, but in the Cross of Our Lord Jesus Christ. Let all evils band against me, and let my body be never so overloaded with afflictions, the joy of my heart will be sure to have the mastery, and my soul will be still replenished with such heavenly consolations that no words, nor even thoughts, are able to express it." [Footnote 1: From the author's text, it seems doubtful whether this sentence is to be attributed to St. Andrew or St. Cecilia.] You may imagine, then, that the souls, once unfettered from the body, may, together with their torments, be capable of great comforts and divine favors, and break forth into resolute, heroical, and even supercelestial acts. * * * * * But there is yet something of a higher nature to be said.... We have all the reason in the world to believe that God, of His infinite goodness, inspires these holy souls with a thousand heavenly lights, and such ravishing thoughts, that they cannot but take themselves to be extremely happy: so happy that St. Catherine of Genoa professed she had learnt of Almighty God that, excepting only the blessed Saints in heaven, there were no joys comparable to those of the souls in Purgatory. "For," said she, "when they consider that they are in the hands of God, in a place deputed for them by His holy providence, and just where God would have them, it is not to be expressed what a sweetness they find in so loving a thought: and certainly they had infinitely rather be in Purgatory, to comply with His divine pleasure, than be in Paradise, with violence to His justice, and a manifest breach of the ordinary laws of the house of God. I will say more," continued she: "it cannot so much as steal into their thoughts to desire to be anywhere else than where they are. Seeing that God has so placed them, they are not at all troubled that others get out before them; and they are so absorbed in this profound meditation, of being at God's disposal, in the bosom of His sweet providence, that they cannot so much as dream of being anywhere else. So that, methinks, those kind expressions of Almighty God, by His prophets, to His chosen people, may be fitly applied to the unhappy and yet happy condition of these holy souls. 'Rejoice, my people,' says the loving God; 'for I swear unto you by Myself, that when you shall pass through flames of fire, they shall not hurt you: I shall be there with you; I shall take off the edge, and blunt the points, of those piercing flames. I will raise the bright Aurora in your darkness; and the darkness of your nights shall outshine the midday. I will pour out My peace into the midst of your hearts, and replenish your souls with the bright shining lights of heaven. You shall be as a paradise of delights, bedewed with a living fountain of heavenly waters. You shall rejoice in your Creator, and I will raise you above the height of mountains, and nourish you with manna and the sweet inheritance of Jacob; for the mouth of the Lord hath spoken it: and it cannot fail, but shall be sure to fall out so, because He hath spoken it'" (Pp. 61, 62). * * * * * But let not this discourse cool your charity; lest, seeing the souls enjoy so much comfort in Purgatory, your compassion for them grow slack, and so continue not equal to their desert. Remember, then, that notwithstanding all these comforts here rehearsed, the poor creatures cease not to be grievously tormented; and consequently have extreme need of all your favorable assistance and pious endeavors. When Christ Jesus was in His bitter agony, sweating blood and water, the superior part of His soul enjoyed God and His glory, and yet His body was so oppressed with sorrow, that He was ready to die, and was content to be comforted by an Angel. In like manner, these holy souls have indeed great joys; but feel withal such bitter torments, that they stand in great need of our help. So that you will much wrong them, and me, too, to stand musing so long upon their joys, as not to afford them succor. (P. 80.) * * * * * In the history of the incomparable order of the great St. Dominic, it is authentically related that one of the first of those holy, religious men was wont to say, that he found himself not so much concerned to pray for the souls in Purgatory, because they are certain of their salvation; and that, upon this account, we ought not, in his judgment, to be very solicitous for them, but ought rather to bend our whole care to help sinner, to convert the wicked, and to secure such souls as are uncertain of their salvation, and probably certain of their damnation, as leading very evil lives. Here it is, said he, that I willingly employ my whole endeavors. It is upon these that I bestow my Masses and prayers, and all that little that is at my disposal; and thus I take it to be well bestowed. But upon souls that have an assurance of eternal happiness, and can never more lose God or offend Him, I believe not, said he, that one ought to be so solicitous. This certainly was but a poor and weak discourse, to give it no severer a censure; and the consequence of it was this, that the good man did not only himself forbear to help these poor souls, but, which was worse, dissuaded others from doing it; and, under color of a greater charity, withdrew that succor which, otherwise, good people would liberally have afforded them. But God took their cause in hand; for, permitting the souls to appear and show themselves in frightful shapes, and to haunt the good man by night and day without respite, still filling his fancy with dreadful imaginations, and his eyes with terrible spectacles, and withal letting him know who they were, and why, with God's permission, they so importuned him with their troublesome visits, you may believe the good Father became so affectionately kind to the souls in Purgatory, bestowed so many Masses and prayers upon them, preached so fervently in their behalf, stirred up so many to the same devotion, that it is a thing incredible to believe, and not to be expressed with eloquence. Never did you see so many and so clear and convincing reasons as he alleged, to demonstrate that it is the most eminent piece of fraternal charity in this life to pray for the souls departed. Love and fear are the two most excellent orators in the world; they can teach all rhetoric in a moment, and infuse a most miraculous eloquence. This good Father, who thought he should have been frightened to death, was grown so fearful of a second assault, that he bent his whole understanding to invent the most pressing and convincing arguments to stir up the world both to pity and to piety, and so persuade souls to help souls; and it is incredible what good ensued thereupon. (Pp. 82- 84.) * * * * * Is there anything within the whole circumference of the universe so worthy of compassion, and that may so deservedly claim the greatest share in all your devotions and charities, as to see our fathers, our mothers, our nearest and dearest relations, to lie broiling in cruel flames, and to cry to us for help with tears that are able to move cruelty itself? Whence I conclude there is not upon the earth any object that deserves more commiseration than this, nor where fraternal charity can better employ all her forces. (P. 86.) * * * * * St. Thomas tells us there is an order to be observed in our works of charity to our neighbor; that is, we are to see where there is a greater obligation, a greater necessity, a greater merit, and the like circumstances. Now, where is there more necessity, or more obligation, than to run to the fire, and to help those that lie there, and are not able to get out? Where can you have more merit, than to have a hand in raising up Saints and servants of God? Where have you more assurance than where you are sure to lose nothing? Where can you find an object of more compassion, than where there is the greatest misery in the world? Where is there seen more of God's glory, than to send new Saints into heaven to praise God eternally? Lastly, where can you show more charity, and more of the love of God, than to employ your tears, your sighs, your goods, your hands, your heart, your life, and all your devotion, to procure a good that surpasses all other goods; I mean, to make souls happy for all eternity, by translating them into heavenly joys, out of insupportable torments? That glorious Apostle of the Indies, St. Francis Xavier, could run from one end of the world to the other, to convert a soul, and think it no long journey. The dangers by sea and land seemed sweet, the tempests pleasing, the labor easy, and his whole time well employed. Good God! what an advantage have we, that with so little trouble and few prayers, may send a thousand beautiful souls into heaven, without the least hazard of losing anything? St. Francis Xavier could not be certain that the Japanese, for example, whom he baptized, would persevere in their faith; and, though they should persevere in it, he could have as little certainty of their salvation. Now, it is an article of our faith, that the holy souls in Purgatory are in grace, and shall assuredly one day enter into the Kingdom of Heaven. (Pp. 91, 92.) * * * * * We read in the life of St. Catherine of Bologna, ... that she had not only a strange tenderness for the souls, but a singular devotion to them, and was wont to recommend herself to them in all her necessities. The reason she alleged for it was this: that she had learned of Almighty God how she had frequently obtained far greater favors by their intercession than by any other means. And the story adds this: that it often happened that what she begged of God, at the intercession of the Saints in heaven, she could never obtain of Him; and yet, as soon as she addressed herself to the souls in Purgatory she had her suit instantly granted. Can there be any question but there are souls in that purging fire who are of a higher pitch of sanctity, and of far greater merit in the sight of God, than a thousand and a thousand Saints who are already glorious in the Court of Heaven. (P. 102.) * * * * * Cardinal Baronius, a man of credit beyond exception, relates, in his Ecclesiastical Annals, how a person of rare virtue found himself dangerously assaulted at the hour of his death; and that, in this agony, he saw the heavens open and about eight thousand champions, all covered with white armor, descend, who fell instantly to encourage him by giving him this assurance: that they were come to fight for him and to disengage him from that doubtful combat. And when, with infinite comfort, and tears in his eyes, he besought them to do him the favor to let him know who they were that had so highly obliged him: "We are," said they, "the souls whom you have saved and delivered out of Purgatory; and now, to requite the favor, we are come down to convey you instantly to heaven." And with that, he died. We read another such story of St. Gertrude; how she was troubled at her death to think what must become of her, since she had given away all the rich treasure of her satisfactions to redeem other poor souls, without reserving anything to herself; but that Our Blessed Saviour gave her the comfort to know that she was not only to have the like favor of being immediately conducted into heaven out of this world, by those innumerable souls whom she had sent thither before her by her fervent prayers, but was there also to receive a hundred-fold of eternal glory in reward of her charity. By which examples we may learn that we cannot make better use of our devotion and charity than this way. (Pp. 104, 105.) * * * * * The Church Triumphant, to speak properly, cannot satisfy, because there is no place for penal works in the Court of Heaven, whence all grief and pain are eternally banished. Wherefore, the Saints may well proceed by way of impetration and prayers; or, at most, represent their former satisfactions, which are carefully laid up in the treasury of the Church, in lieu of those which are due from others; but, as for any new satisfaction or payment derived from any penal act of their own, it is not to be looked for in those happy mansions of eternal glory. The Church Militant may do either; as having this advantage over the Church Triumphant, that she can help the souls in Purgatory by her prayers and satisfactory works, and by offering up her charitable suffrages, wherewith to pay the debts of those poor souls who are run in arrear in point of satisfaction due for their sins. Had they but fasted, prayed, labored, or suffered a little more in this life, they had gone directly into heaven; what they unhappily neglected we may supply for them, and it will be accepted for good payment, as from their bails and sureties. You know, he that stands surety for another takes the whole debt upon himself. This is our case; for, the living, as it were, entering bond for the dead, become responsible for their debts, and offer up fasts for fasts, tears for tears, in the same measure and proportion as they were liable to them, and so defray the debt of their friends at their own charge, and make all clear. (Pp. 117, 118.) * * * * * I am in love with that religious practice of Bologna, where, upon funeral days, they cause hundreds and thousands of Masses to be said for the soul departed, in lieu of other superfluous and vain ostentations. They stay not for the anniversary, nor for any other set day; but instantly do their best to release the poor soul from her torments, who must needs think the year long, if she must stay for help till her anniversary day appears. They do not, for all this, despise the laudable customs of the Church; they bury their friends with honor; they clothe great numbers of poor people; they give liberal alms; but, as there is nothing so certain, nothing so efficacious, nothing so divine, as the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass, they fix their whole affection there, and strive all they can to relieve the souls this way; and are by no means so lavish, as the fashion is, in other idle expenses and inopportune feastings, which are often more troublesome to the living than comfortable to the dead. But you may not only comfort the afflicted souls by procuring Masses for them, nor yet only by offering up your prayers, fasts, alms-deeds, and such other works of piety; but you may bestow upon them all the good you do, and all the evil you suffer, in this world.... If you offer up unto God all that causes you any grief or affliction, for the present relief of the poor languishing souls, you cannot believe what ease and comfort they will find by it. (Pp. 123-125). * * * * * The world has generally a great esteem of Monsieur d'Argenton, Philip Commines; and many worthily admire him for the great wisdom and sincerity he has labored to express in his whole history. But, for my part, I commend him for nothing more than for the prudent care he took here for the welfare of his own soul in the other world. For, having built a goodly chapel at the Augustinians in Paris, and left them a good foundation, he tied them to this perpetual obligation, that they should no sooner rise from table, but they should be sure to pray for the rest of this precious soul. And he ordered it thus, by his express will, that one of the religious should first say aloud: "Let us pray for the soul of Monsieur d'Argenton;" and then all should instantly say the psalm _De Profundis_. Gerson lost not his labor when he took such pains to teach little children to repeat often these words: "My God, my Creator, have pity on Thy poor servant, John Gerson." For these innocent souls, all the while the good man was dying, and after he was dead, went up and down the town with a mournful voice, singing the short lesson he had taught them, and comforting his dear soul with their innocent prayers. Now, as I must commend their prudence who thus wisely cast about how to provide for their own souls, against they come into Purgatory, so I cannot but more highly magnify their charity, who, less solicitous for themselves, employ their whole care to save others out of that dreadful fire. And sure I am, they can lose nothing by the bargain, who dare thus trust God with their own souls, while they do their uttermost to help others; nay, though they should follow that unparalleled example of Father Hernando de Monsoy, of the Society of Jesus, who, not content to give away all he could from himself to the poor souls, while he lived, made them his heirs after death; and, by express will, bequeathed them all the Masses, rosaries, and whatsoever else should be offered for him by his friends upon earth. (Pp. 131-132.) * * * * * It will not be amiss here to resolve you certain pertinent questions. Whether the suffrages we offer up unto God shall really avail them for whom we offer them; and whether they alone, or others also, may receive benefit by them? Whether it be better to pray for a few at once, or for many, or for all the souls together, and for what souls in particular? To the first I answer: if your intention be to help any one in particular who is really in Purgatory, so your work be good, it is infallibly applied to the person upon whom you bestow it. For, as divines teach, it is the intention of the offerer which governs all; and God, of His infinite goodness, accommodates Himself to the petitioner's request, applying unto each one what has been offered for its relief. If you have nobody in your thoughts for whom you offer up your prayers, they are only beneficial to yourself; and what would be thus lost for want of application, God lays up in the treasury of the Church, as being a kind of spiritual waif or stray, to which nobody can lay any just claim. And, since it is the intention which entitles one to what is offered before all others, what right can others pretend to it; or with what justice can it be parted or divided amongst others, who were never thought of? And hence I take my starting-point to resolve your other question--that if you regard their best advantage whom you have a mind to favor, you had better pray for a few than for many together; for, since the merit of your devotions is but limited, and often in a very small proportion, the more you divide and subdivide it amongst many, the lesser share comes to every one in particular. As if you should distribute a crown or an angel [1] amongst a thousand poor people, you easily see your alms would be so inconsiderable, they would be little better for it; whereas, if it were all bestowed upon one or two, it were enough to make them think themselves rich. [Footnote 1: A gold coin of that period so called because it was stamped with the image of an angel.] Now, to define precisely, whether it be always better done, to help one or two souls efficaciously, than to yield a little comfort to a great many, is a question I leave for you to exercise your wits in. I could fancy it to be your best course to do both; that is, sometimes to single out some particular soul, and to use all your powers to lift her up to heaven; sometimes, again, to parcel out your favors upon many; and, now and then, also to deal out a general alms upon all Purgatory. And you need not fear exceeding in this way of charity, whatsoever you bestow; for you may be sure nothing will be lost by it. And St. Thomas will tell you, for your comfort, that since all the souls in Purgatory are perfectly united in charity, they rejoice exceedingly when they see any of their whole number receive such powerful helps as to dispose her for heaven. They every one take it as done to themselves, whatsoever is bestowed upon any of their fellows, whom they love as themselves; and, out of a heavenly kind of courtesy, and singular love, they joy in her happiness, as if it were their own. So that it may be truly said, that you never pray for one or more of them, but they are all partakers, and receive a particular comfort and satisfaction by it. (Pp. 132-134.) * * * * * It would go hard with many, were it true that a person who neglected to make restitution in his life-time, and only charged his heirs to do it for him in his last will and testament, shall not stir out of Purgatory till restitution be really made; let there be never so many Masses said, and never so many satisfactory works offered up for him. And yet St. Bridget, whose revelations are, for the most part, approved by the Church, hesitates not to set this down for a truth which God had revealed unto her. Nor are there wanting grave divines that countenance this rigorous position, and bring for it many strong reasons and examples, which they take to be authentical: and the law itself, which says that if a man do not restore another's goods, there will always stick upon the soul a kind of blemish, or obligation of justice. And since the fault lies wholly at his door, he cannot, say they, have the least reason to complain of the severity of God's justice, but must accuse his own coldness and extreme neglect of his own welfare. Nay, even those that are of the contrary persuasion, yet maintain that it is not only much more secure, but far more meritorious, to satisfy such obligations while we live, than to trust others with it, let them be never so near and dear to us.... (Pp. 140, 141.) * * * * * ... I have just cause to fear that all I can say to you will hardly suffice to mollify that hard heart of yours; and, therefore, my last refuge shall be to set others on, though I call them out of the other world. And first, let a damned soul read you a lecture, and teach you the compassion you ought to bear to your afflicted brethren. Remember how the rich glutton in the Gospel, although he was buried in hell-fire, took care for his brothers who survived him; and besought Abraham to send Lazarus back into the world, to preach and convert them, lest they should be so miserable as to come into that place of torments. A strange request for a damned soul! and which may shame you, that are so little concerned for the souls of your brethren, who are in so restless a condition. In the next place, I will bring in the soul of your dear father, or mother, to make her own just complaints against you. Lend her, then, a dutiful and attentive ear; and let none of her words be lost; for she deserves to be heard out, while she sets forth the state of her most lamentable condition. Peace! it is a holy soul, though clothed in flames, that directs her speech to you after this manner: "Am I not the most unfortunate and wretched parent that ever lived? I that was so silly as to presume that having ventured my life, and my very soul also, to leave my children at their ease, they would at least have had some pity on me, and endeavor to procure for me some ease and comfort in my torments. Alas! I burn insufferably, I suffer infinitely, and have done so, I know not how long; and yet this is not the only thing that grieves me. Alas, no! it is a greater vexation to me to see myself so soon forgotten by my own children, and so slighted by them, for whom I have in vain taken so much care and pains. Ah, dost thou grudge thy poor mother a Mass, a slight alms, a sigh, or a tear? Thy mother, I say, who would most willingly have kept bread from her own mouth, to make thee swim in an ocean of delights, and to abound with plenty of all worldly goods? ... Who will not refuse me comfort, when my own children, my very bowels, do their best to forget me? What a vexation is it to me, when my companions in misery ask me whether I left no children behind me, and why they are so hard-hearted as to neglect me?.... I was willing to forget my own concerns to be careful of theirs; and those ungrateful ones have now buried me in an eternal oblivion, and clearly left me to shift for myself in these dread tortures, without giving me the least ease or comfort. Oh, what a fool was I! had I given to the poor the thousandth part of those goods which I left these miserable children, I had long before this been joyfully singing the praises of my Creator, in the choir of Angels; whereas now I lie panting and groaning under excessive torments, and am like still to lie, for any relief that is to be looked for from these undutiful, ungracious children whom I made my sole heirs.... But am I not all this while strangely transported, miserable that I am, thus to amuse myself with unprofitable complaints against my children; whereas, indeed, I have but small reason to blame any but myself? since it is I, and only I, that am the cause of all this mischief. For did not I know that in the grand business of saving my soul, I was to have trusted none but myself? did I not know that with the sight of their friends, at their departure, men used to lose all the memory and friendship they had for them?.... Did I not know that God Himself had foretold us, that the only ready way to build ourselves eternal tabernacles in the next world, is not to give all to our children, but to be liberal to the poor?.... I cannot deny, then, but the fault lies at my door, and that I am deservedly thus neglected by my children.... The only comfort I have left me in all my afflictions, is, that others will learn at my cost this clear maxim: not to leave to others a matter of such near concern as the ease and repose of their own souls; but to provide for them carefully themselves. O God! how dearly have I bought this experience; to see my fault irreparable, and my misery without redress!" (Pp. 146-149.) * * * * * One must have a heart of steel, or no heart at all, to hear these sad regrets, and not feel some tenderness for the poor souls, and as great an indignation against those who are so little concerned for the souls of their parents and other near relations. I wish, with all my soul, that all those who shall light upon this passage, and hear the soul so bitterly deplore her misfortune, may but benefit themselves half as much by it as a good prelate did when the soul of Pope Benedict VIII, by God's permission, revealed unto him her lamentable state in Purgatory. [1] For so the story goes, which is not to be questioned: This Pope Benedict appears to the Bishop of Capua, and conjures him to go to his brother, Pope John, who succeeded him in the Chair of St. Peter, and to beseech him, for God's sake, to give great store of alms to poor people, to allay the fury of the fire of Purgatory, with which he found himself highly tormented. He further charges him to let the Pope know withal, that he did acknowledge liberal alms had already been distributed for that purpose; but had found no ease at all by it because all the money that had been then bestowed was acquired unjustly, and so had no power to prevail before the just tribunal of God for the obtaining of the least mercy. The good Bishop, upon this, makes haste to the Pope, and faithfully relates the whole conference that had passed between him and the soul of his predecessor; and with a grave voice and lively accent enforces the necessity and importance of the business; that, in truth, when a soul lies a burning, it is in vain to dispute idle questions; the best course, then, is to run instantly for water, and to throw it on with both hands, calling for all the help and assistance we can, to relieve her; and that His Holiness should soon see the truth of the vision by the wonderful effects which were like to follow. All this he delivers so gravely, and so to the purpose, that the Pope resolves out of hand to give in charity vast sums out of his own certain and unquestionable revenue; whereby the soul of Pope Benedict was not only wonderfully comforted, but, questionless, soon released of her torments. In conclusion, the good Bishop, having well reflected with himself in what a miserable condition he had seen the soul of a Pope who had the repute of a Saint, and was really so, worked so powerfully with him, that, quitting his mitre, crosier, bishopric, and all worldly greatness, he shut himself up in a monastery, and there made a holy end; choosing rather to have his Purgatory in the austerity of a cloister than in the flames of the Church suffering. (Pp. 150, 151.) [Footnote 1: Baronius, _An._ 1024.] * * * * * I wish, again, they would in this but follow the example of King Louis of France, who was son to Louis the Emperor, surnamed the Pious. For they tell us [1] that this Emperor, after he had been thirty-three years in Purgatory, not so much for any personal crimes or misdemeanors of his own as for permitting certain disorders in his empire, which he ought to have prevented, was at length permitted to show himself to King Louis, his son, and to beg his favorable assistance; and that the king did not only most readily grant him his request, procuring Masses to be said in all the monasteries of his realm for the soul of his deceased father, but drew thence many good reflections and profitable instructions, which served him all his life-time after. Do you the same; and believe it, though Purgatory fire is a kind of baptism, and is so styled by some of the holy Fathers, because it cleanses a soul from all the dross of sin, and makes it worthy to see God, yet is it your sweetest course, here to baptize yourself frequently in the tears of contrition, which have a mighty power to cleanse away all the blemishes of sin; and so prevent in your own person, and extinguish in others, those baptismal flames of Purgatory fire, which are so dreadful. (Pp. 151, 152.) [Footnote 1: Baronius, _An_. 874.] * * * * * What shall I say of those other nations, whose natural piety led them to place burning lamps at the sepulchres of the dead, and strew them over with sweet flowers and odoriferous perfumes. [1] Do they not put Christians in mind to remember the dead, and to cast after them the sweet incense of their devout sighs and prayers, and the perfumes of their alms-deeds, and other good works? [Footnote 1: Herod lib. 2.] It was very usual with the old Romans to shed whole floods of tears, to reserve them in phial-glasses, and to bury them with the urns, in which the ashes of their dead friends were carefully laid up; and by them to set lamps, so artificially composed as to burn without end. By which symbols they would give us to understand, that neither their love nor their grief should ever die; but that they would always be sure to have tears in their eyes, love in their hearts, and a constant memory in their souls for their deceased friends.... They had another custom, not only in Rome but elsewhere, to walk about the burning pile where the corpse lay, and, with their mournful lamentations, to keep time with the doleful sound of their trumpets; and still, every turn, to cast into the fire some precious pledge of their friendship. The women themselves would not stick to throw in their rings, bracelets, and other costly attires, nay, their very hair also, the chief ornament of their sex; and they would have been sometimes willing to have thrown in both their eyes, and their hearts too. Nor were there some wanting, that in earnest threw themselves into the fire, to be consumed with their dear spouses; so that it was found necessary to make a severe law against it; such was the tenderness that they had for their deceased friends, such was the excess of a mere natural affection. Now, our love is infused from Heaven; it is supernatural, and consequently ought to be more active and powerful to stir up our compassion for the souls departed; and yet we see the coldness of Christians in this particular; how few there are who make it their business to help poor souls out of their tormenting flames. It is not necessary to make laws to hinder any excess in this article; it were rather to be wished that a law were provided to punish all such ungrateful persons as forgot the duty they owe to their dead parents, and all the obligations they have to the rest of their friends. (Pp. 156-158.) * * * * * It is a pleasure to observe the constant devotion of the Church of Christ in all ages, to pray for the dead. And first, to take my rise from the Apostles' time, there are many learned interpreters, who hold that baptism for the dead, of which the Apostle speaks, [1] to be meant only of the much fasting, prayer, alms-deeds, and other voluntary afflictions, which the first Christians undertook for the relief of their deceased friends. But I need not fetch in obscure places to prove so clear an Apostolical and early custom in God's Church. [Footnote 1: Cor. xv 29.] You may see a set form of prayer for the dead prescribed in all the ancient liturgies of the Apostles. [1] Besides, St. Clement [2] tells us, it was one of the chief heads of St. Peter's sermons, to be daily inculcating to the people this devotion of praying for the dead; and St. Denis [3] sets down at large the solemn ceremonies and prayers, which were then used at funerals; and receives them no otherwise than as Apostolical traditions, grounded upon the Word of God. And certainly, it would have done you good to have seen with what gravity and devotion that venerable prelate performed the divine office and prayer for the dead, and what an ocean of tears he drew from the eyes of all that were present. [Footnote 1: Liturgia utrinque, S. Jacobi, S. Math., S. Marci, S. Clem.] [Footnote 2: Epist. I.] [Footnote 3: S Dion. _Eccles. Hier_. C. 7.] Let Tertullian [1] speak for the next age. He tells us how carefully devout people in his time kept the anniversaries of the dead, and made their constant oblations for the sweet rest of their souls. "Here it is," says this grave author, "that the widow makes it appear whether or no she had any true love for her husband; if she continue yearly to do her best for the comfort of his soul." ... Let your first care be, to ransom him out of Purgatory, and when you have once placed him in the empyrean heaven, he will be sure to take care for you and yours. I know your excuse is, that having procured for him the accustomed services of the Church, you need do no more for him; for you verily believe he is already in a blessed state. But this is rather a poor shift to excuse your own sloth and laziness, than that you believe it to be so in good earnest. For there is no man, says Origen, but the Son of God, can guess how long, or how many ages, a soul may stand in need of the purgation of fire. Mark the word _ages_; he seems to believe that a soul may, for whole ages--that is, for so many hundred years--be confined to this fiery lake, if she be wholly left to herself and her own sufferings. [Footnote 1: Tertull. _De cor. mil. c 3; _De monogam, c. 10.] It was not without confidence, says Eusebius, of reaping more fruit from the prayers of the faithful, that the honor of our nation, and the first Christian Emperor, Constantine the Great, took such care to be buried in the Church of the Apostles, whither all sorts of devout people resorting to perform their devotions to God and His Saints, would be sure to remember so good an emperor. Nor did he fail of his expectation; for it is incredible, as the same author observes, what a world of sighs and prayers were offered up for him upon this occasion. St. Athanasius [1] brings an elegant comparison to express the incomparable benefit which accrues to the souls in Purgatory by our prayers. As the wine, says he, which is locked up in the cellar, yet is so recreated with the sweet odor of the flourishing vines which are growing in the fields, as to flower afresh, and leap, as it were, for joy, so the souls that are shut up in the centre of the earth feel the sweet incense of our prayers, and are exceedingly comforted and refreshed by it. [Footnote 1: St. Augustine's views on this subject may be seen from the extract elsewhere given, from his "Confessions," on the occasion of the death of his mother, St. Monica.] We do not busy ourselves, says St. Cyril, with placing crowns or strewing flowers at the sepulchres of the dead; but we lay hold on Christ, the very Son of God, who was sacrificed upon the Cross for our sins: and we offer Him up again to His Eternal Father in the dread Sacrifice of the Mass, as the most efficacious means to reconcile Him, not only to ourselves, but to them also. St. Epiphanius stuck not to condemn Arius for this damnable heresy amongst others, that he held it in vain to pray for the dead: as if our prayers could not avail them. St. Ambrose prayed heartily for the good Emperor Theodosius as soon as he was dead, and made open profession that he would never give over praying for him till he had, by his prayers and tears, conveyed him safe to the holy mountain of Our Lord, whither he was called by his merits, and where there is true life everlasting. He had the same kindness for the soul of the Emperor Valentinian, the same for Gratian, the same for his brother Satyrus and others. He promised them Masses, tears, prayers, and that he would never forget them, never give over doing charitable offices for them. "Will you honor your dead?" says St. John Chrysostom; "do not spend yourselves in unprofitable lamentations; choose rather to sing psalms, to give alms, and to lead holy lives. Do for them that which they would willingly do for themselves, were they to return again into the world, and God will accept it at your hands, as if it came from them." (Pp. 162-166.) St. Paulinus, that charitable prelate who sold himself to redeem others, could not but have a great proportion of charity for captive souls in the other world. No; he was not only ready to become a slave himself to purchase their freedom, but he became an earnest solicitor to others in their behalf; for, in a letter to Delphinus, alluding to the story of Lazarus, he beseeches him to have at least so much compassion as to convey, now and then, a drop of water wherewith to cool the tongues of poor souls that lie burning in the Church which is all a-fire. I am astonished when I call to mind the sad regrets of the people of Africa when they saw some of their priests dragged away to martyrdom. The author says they flocked about them in great numbers and cried out: "Alas! if you leave us so, what will become of us? Who must give us absolution for our sins? Who must bury us with the wonted ceremonies of the Church when we are dead? and who will take care to pray for our souls?" Such a general belief they had in those days, that nothing is more to be desired in this world than to leave those behind us who will do their best to help us out of our torments. (Pp. 167-8.) * * * * * Almighty God has often miraculously made it appear how well He is pleased to be importuned by us in the souls' behalf, and what comfort they receive by our prayers. St. John Climacus writes, [1] that while the monks were at service, praying for their good father, Mennas, the third day after his departure, they felt a marvellous sweet smell to rise out of his grave, which they took for a good omen that his sweet soul, after three days' purgation, had taken her flight into heaven. For what else could be meant by that sweet perfume but the odor of his holy and innocent conversation, or the incense of their sacrifices and prayers, or the primitial fruits of his happy soul, which was now flown up to the holy mountain of eternal glory, there enjoying the odoriferous and never-fading delights of Paradise? [Footnote 1: In 4, gradu scalæ.] Not unlike unto this is that story which the great St. Gregory relates of one Justus, a monk. [1] He had given him up at first for a lost creature; but, upon second thoughts, having ordered Mass to be said for him for thirty days together, the last day he appeared to his brother and assured him of the happy exchange he was now going to make of his torments for the joys of heaven. [Footnote 1: Dial. c. 55, lib. 4.] Pope Symmachus and his Council [1] had reason to thunder out anathemas against those sacrilegious persons who were so frontless as to turn pious legacies into profane uses, to the great prejudice of the souls for whose repose they were particularly deputed by the founders. And, certainly, it is a much fouler crime to defraud souls of their due relief than to disturb dead men's ashes and to plunder their graves. (Pp. 168-9.) [Footnote 1: 6 Synod., Rom.] St. Isidore delivers it as an apostolic tradition and general practice of the Catholic Church in his time, to offer up sacrifices and prayers, and to distribute alms for the dead; and this, not for any increase of their merit, but either to mitigate their pains or to shorten the time of their durance. Venerable Bede is a sure witness for the following century; whose learned works are full of wonderful stories, which he brings in confirmation of this Catholic doctrine and practice. St. John Damascene made an elegant oration on purpose to stir up this devotion; where, amongst other things, he says it is impossible to number up all the stories in this kind which bear witness that the souls departed are relieved by our prayers; and that, otherwise, God would not have appointed a commemoration of the dead to be daily made in the unbloody Sacrifice of the Mass, nor would the Church have so religiously observed anniversaries and other days set apart for the service of the dead. Were it but a dog, says Simon Metaphrastes, that by chance were fallen into the fire, we should have so much compassion for him as to help him out; and what shall we do for souls who are fallen into Purgatory fire? I say, souls of our parents and dearest friends; souls that are predestinate to eternal glory, and extremely precious in the sight of God? And what did not the Saints of God's Church for them in those days? Some armed themselves from head to foot in coarse hair-cloth; others tore off their flesh with chains and rude disciplines; some, again, pined themselves with rigorous fasts; others dissolved themselves into tears; some passed whole nights in contemplation; others gave liberal alms or procured great store of Masses; in fine, they did what they were able, and were not well pleased that they were able to do no more, to relieve the poor souls in Purgatory. Amongst others, Queen Melchtild [1] is reported to have purchased immortal fame for her discreet behavior at the death of the king, her husband; for whose soul she caused a world of Masses to be said, and a world of alms to be distributed, in lieu of other idle expenses and fruitless lamentations. [Footnote 1: Luitprand, c. 4, c. 7.] There is one in the world, to whom I bear an immortal envy, and such an envy as I never mean to repent of. It is the holy Abbot Odilo, who was the author of an invention which I would wittingly have found out, though with the loss of my very heart's blood. Reader, take the story as it passed, thus: [1] A devout religious man, in his return from Jerusalem, meets with a holy hermit in Sicily; he assures him that he often heard the devils complain that souls were so soon discharged of their torments by the devout prayers of the monks of Cluny, who never ceased to pour out their prayers for them. This the good man carries to Odilo, then Abbot of Cluny; he praises God for His great mercy in vouchsafing to hear the innocent prayers of his monks; and presently takes occasion to command all the monasteries of his Order, to keep yearly the commemoration of All Souls, next after the feast of All Saints, a custom which, by degrees, grew into such credit, that the Catholic Church thought fit to establish it all over the Christian world; to the incredible benefit of poor souls, and singular increase of God's glory. For who can sum up the infinite number of souls who have been freed out of Purgatory by this invention? or who can express the glory which accrued to this good Abbot, who thus fortunately made himself procurator-general of the suffering Church, and furnished her people with such a considerable supply of necessary relief, to alleviate the insupportable burthen of their sufferings? [Footnote 1: Sigeb. in _Chron_. An. 998.] St. Bernard would triumph when he had to deal with heretics that denied this privilege of communicating our suffrages and prayers to the souls in Purgatory. And with what fervor he would apply himself to this charitable employment of relieving poor souls, may appear by the care he took for good Humbertus, though he knew him to have lived and died in his monastery so like a Saint, that he could scarce find out the fault in him which might deserve the least punishment in the other world; unless it were to have been too rigorous to himself, and too careless of his health: which in a less spiritual eye than that of St. Bernard, might have passed for a great virtue. But it is worth your hearing, that which he relates of blessed St. Malachy, who died in his very bosom. This holy Bishop, as he lay asleep, hears a sister of his, lately dead, making lamentable moan, that for thirty days together she had not eaten so much as a bit of bread. He starts up out of his sleep; and, taking it to be more than a dream, he concludes the meaning of the vision was to tell him, that just thirty days were now past since he had said Mass for her; as probably believing she was already where she had no need of his prayers.... Howsoever, this worthy prelate so plied his prayers after this, that he soon sent his sister out of Purgatory; and it pleased God to let him see, by the daily change of her habit, how his prayers had purged her by degrees, and made her fit company for the Angels and Saints in heaven. For, the first day, she was covered all over with black cypress; the next, she appeared in a mantle something whitish, but a dusky color; but the third day, she was seen all clad in white, which is the proper livery of the Saints.... This for St. Bernard. But I cannot let pass in silence one very remarkable passage, which happened to these two great servants of God. St. Malachy had passionately desired to die at Clarvallis, [1] in the hands of the devout St. Bernard; and this, on the day immediately before All Souls' Day; and it pleased God to grant him his request. It fell out, then, that while St. Bernard was saying Mass for him, in the middle of Mass it was revealed to him that St. Malachy was already glorious in heaven; whether he had gone straight out of this world, or whether that part of St. Bernard's Mass had freed him out of Purgatory, is uncertain; but St. Bernard, hereupon, changed his note; for, having begun with a Requiem, he went on with the Mass of a bishop and confessor, to the great astonishment of all the standers-by. [Footnote 1: Clairvaux.] St. Thomas of Aquin, that great champion of Purgatory, gave God particular thanks at his death, for not only delivering a soul out of Purgatory, at the instance of his prayers, but also permitting the same soul to be the messenger of so good news. (Pp. 169-174.) * * * * * And now, we are come down to the fifteenth age, where the Fathers of the Council of Florence, both Greeks and. Latins, with one consent, declare the same faith and constant practice of the Church, thus handed down to them from age to age, since Christ and His Apostles' time, as we have seen; viz., that the souls in Purgatory are not only relieved, but translated into heaven, by the prayers, sacrifices, alms, and other charitable works, which are offered up for them according to the custom of the Catholic Church. Nor did their posterity degenerate, or vary the least, from this received doctrine, until Luther's time; when the holy Council of Trent thought fit again to lay down the sound doctrine of the Church, in opposition to all our late sectaries. And I wish all Catholics were but as forward to lend their helping hands to lift souls out of Purgatory, as they are to believe they have the power to do it; and that we had not often more reason than the Roman Emperor to pronounce the day lost; since we let so many days pass over our heads, and so many fair occasions slip out of our hands, without easing, or releasing, any souls out of Purgatory, when we might do it with so much ease. (P. 175.) ON DEVOTION TO THE HOLY SOULS. FATHER FABER. Although we are mercifully freed from the necessity of descending into hell to seek and promote the interests of Jesus, it is far from being so with Purgatory. If heaven and earth are full of the glory of God, so also is that most melancholy, yet most interesting land, where the prisoners of hope are detained by their Saviour's loving justice, from the Beatific Vision; and if we can advance the interests of Jesus on earth and in heaven, I may almost venture to say that we can do still more in Purgatory. And what I am endeavoring to show you in this treatise is, how you may help God by prayer, and the practices of devotion, whatever your occupation and calling may be: and all these practices apply especially to Purgatory. For although some theologians say that in spite of the Holy Souls placing no obstacle in the way, still the effect of prayer for them is not infallible; nevertheless, it is much more certain than the effect of prayer for the conversion of sinners upon earth, where it is so often frustrated by their perversity and evil dispositions. Anyhow, what I have wanted to show has been this: that each of us, without aiming beyond our grace, without austerities for which we have not courage, without supernatural gifts to which we lay no claim, may, by simple affectionateness and the practices of sound Catholic devotion, do great things, things so great that they seem incredible, for the glory of God, the interests of Jesus, and the good of souls. I should, therefore, be leaving my subject very incomplete if I did not consider at some length devotion to the Holy Souls in Purgatory; and I will treat, not so much of particular practices of it, which are to be found in the ordinary manuals, as of the spirit of the devotion itself. * * * * * By the doctrine of the Communion of Saints and of the unity of Christ's mystical body, we have most intimate relations both of duty and affection with the Church Triumphant and Suffering; and Catholic devotion furnishes us with many appointed and approved ways of discharging these duties toward them.... For the present it is enough to say that God has given us such power over the dead that they seem, as I have said before, to depend almost more on earth than on heaven; and surely that He has given us this power, and supernatural methods of exercising it, is not the least touching proof that His Blessed Majesty has contrived all things for love. Can we not conceive the joy of the Blessed in Heaven, looking down from the bosom of God and the calmness of their eternal repose upon this scene of dimness, disquietude, doubt and fear, and rejoicing in the plenitude of their charity, in their vast power with the Sacred Heart of Jesus, to obtain grace and blessing day and night for the poor dwellers upon earth? It does not distract them from God, it does not interfere with the Vision, or make it waver and grow misty; it does not trouble their glory or their peace. On the contrary, it is with them as with our Guardian Angels--the affectionate ministries of their charity increase their own accidental glory. The same joy in its measure may be ours even upon earth. If we are fully possessed with this Catholic devotion for the Holy Souls, we shall never be without the grateful consciousness of the immense powers which Jesus has given us on their behalf. We are never so like Him, or so nearly imitate His tender offices, as when we are devoutly exercising these powers.... Oh! what thoughts, what feelings, what love should be ours, as we, like choirs of terrestrial angels, gaze down on the wide, silent, sinless kingdom of suffering, and then with our own venturous touch wave the sceptred hand of Jesus over its broad regions all richly dropping with the balsam of His saving Blood! * * * * * Oh! how solemn and subduing is the thought of that holy kingdom, that realm of pain! There is no cry, no murmur; all is silent, silent as Jesus before His enemies. We shall never know how we really love Mary till we look up to her out of those deeps, those vales of dread mysterious fire. O beautiful region of the Church of God. O lovely troop of the flock of Mary! What a scene is presented to our eyes when we gaze upon that consecrated empire of sinlessness and yet of keenest suffering! There is the beauty of those immaculate souls, and then the loveliness, yea, the worshipfulness of their patience, the majesty of their gifts, the dignity of their solemn and chaste sufferings, the eloquence of their silence; the moonlight of Mary's throne lighting up their land of pain and unspeechful expectation; the silver-winged angels voyaging through the deeps of that mysterious realm; and above all, that unseen Face of Jesus which is so well remembered that it seems to be almost seen! Oh! what a sinless purity of worship is here in this liturgy of hallowed pain! O world! O weary, clamorous, sinful world! Who would not break away if he could, like an uncaged dove, from thy perilous toils and unsafe pilgrimage, and fly with joy to the lowest place in that most pure, most safe, most holy land of suffering and of sinless love! * * * * * But some persons turn in anger from the thought of Purgatory, as if it were not to be endured, that after trying all our lives long to serve God, we should accomplish the tremendous feat of a good death, only to pass from the agonies of the death-bed into fire--long, keen, searching, triumphant, incomparable fire. Alas! my dear friends; your anger will not help you nor alter facts. But have you thought sufficiently about God? Have you tried to realize His holiness and purity in assiduous meditation? Is there a real divorce between you and the world, which you know is God's enemy? Do you take God's side? Have you wedded His interests? Do you long for His glory? Have you put sin alongside of our dear Saviour's Passion, and measured the one by the other? Oh! if you had, Purgatory would but seem to you the last, unexpected, and inexpressibly tender invention of an obstinate love which was mercifully determined to save you in spite of yourself! It would be a perpetual wonder to you, a joyous wonder, fresh every, morning--a wonder that would be meat and drink to your soul; that you, being what you are, what you know yourself to be, what you may conceive God knows you to be, should be saved eternally! Remember what the suffering soul said so simply, yet with such force, to Sister Francesca: "Ah! those on that side the grave little reckon how dearly they will pay on this side for the lives they live!" To be angry because you are told you will go to Purgatory! Silly, silly people! Most likely it is a great false flattery, and that you will never be good enough to go there at all. Why, positively, you do not recognize your own good fortune when you are told of it. And none but the humble go there. I remember Maria Crocifissa was told that although many of the Saints while on earth loved God more than some do even in heaven, yet that the greatest saint on earth was not so _humble_ as are the souls in Purgatory. I do not think I ever read anything in the lives of the Saints which struck me so much as that.... But we not only learn lessons for our own good, but for the good of the Holy Souls. We see that our charitable attentions toward them must be far more vigorous and persevering than they have been; for that men go to Purgatory for very little matters, and remain there an unexpectedly long time. But their most touching appeal to us lies in their helplessness; and our dear Lord, with His usual loving arrangement, has made the extent of our power to help them more than commensurate with their inability to help themselves.... St. Thomas has taught us that prayer for the dead is more readily accepted with God than prayer for the living. We can offer and apply for them all the satisfactions of our Blessed Lord. We can do vicarious penance for them. We can give to them all the satisfaction of our ordinary actions, and of our sufferings. We can make over to them by way of suffrage, the indulgences we gain, provided the Church has made them applicable to the dead. We can limit and direct upon them, or any one of them, the intention of the Adorable Sacrifice. The Church, which has no jurisdiction over them, can yet make indulgences applicable or inapplicable to them by way of suffrage; and by means of liturgy, commemoration, incense, holy water, and the like, can reach efficaciously to them, and most of all by her device of privileged altars. .... All that I have said hitherto has been, indirectly, at least, a plea for this devotion; but I must come now to a more direct recommendation of it. * * * * * It is not saying too much to call devotion to the Holy Souls, a kind of centre in which all Catholic devotions meet, and which satisfies more than any other single devotion our duties in that way; because it is a devotion all of love, and of disinterested love. If we cast an eye over the chief Catholic devotions, we shall see the truth of this. Take the devotion of St. Ignatius to the glory of God. This, if I may dare to use such an expression of Him, was the special and favorite devotion of Jesus. Now, Purgatory is simply a field white for the harvest of God's glory. Not a prayer can be said for the Holy Souls, but God is at once glorified, both by the faith and the charity of the mere prayer. Not an alleviation, however trifling, can befall any one of the souls, but He is forthwith glorified by the honor of His Son's Precious Blood, and the approach of the soul to bliss. Not a soul is delivered from its trial but God is immensely glorified. * * * * * Again, what devotion is more justly dear to Christians than the devotion to the Sacred Humanity of Jesus? It is rather a family of various and beautiful devotions, than a devotion by itself. Yet see how they are all, as it were, fulfilled, affectionately fulfilled, in devotion to the Holy Souls. The quicker the souls are liberated from Purgatory, the more is the beautiful harvest of His Blessed Passion multiplied and accelerated. An early harvest is a blessing, as well as a plentiful one; for all delay of a soul's ingress into the praise of heaven is an eternal and irremediable loss of honor and glory to the Sacred Humanity of Jesus. How strangely things sound in the language of the Sanctuary! yet so it is. Can the Sacred Humanity be honored more than by the Adorable Sacrifice of the Mass? And here is our chief action upon Purgatory.... Devotion to our dearest Mother is equally comprehended in this devotion to the Holy Souls, whether we look at her as the Mother of Jesus, and so sharing the honors of His Sacred Humanity, or as Mother of mercy, and so specially honored by works of mercy, or, lastly, as, in a particular sense, the Queen of Purgatory, and so having all manner of dear interests to be promoted in the welfare and deliverance of those suffering souls. Next to this we may rank devotion to the Holy Angels, and this also is satisfied in devotion to the Holy Souls. For it keeps filling the vacant thrones in the angelic choirs, those unsightly gaps which the fall of Lucifer and one-third of the heavenly host occasioned. It multiplies the companions of the blessed spirits. They may be supposed also to look with an especial interest on that part of the Church which lies in Purgatory, because it is already crowned with their own dear gift and ornament of final perseverance, and yet it has not entered at once into its inheritance as they did. Many of them also have a tender personal interest in Purgatory. Thousands, perhaps millions of them, are guardians to those souls, and their office is not over yet. Thousands have clients there who were especially devoted to them in life. Will St. Raphael, who was so faithful to Tobias, be less faithful to his clients there? Whole choirs are interested about others, either because they are finally to be aggregated to that choir, or because in life-time they had a special devotion to it. Marie Denise, of the Visitation, used to congratulate her angel every day on the grace he had received to stand when so many around him were falling. It was the only thing she could know for certain of his past life. Could he neglect her, if by the will of God she went to Purgatory? Again, St. Michael, as prince of Purgatory, and Our Lady's regent, in fulfilment of the dear office attributed to him by the Church in the Mass for the Dead, takes as homage to himself all charity to the Holy Souls; and if it be true, that a zealous heart is always a proof of a grateful one, that bold and magnificent spirit will recompense us one day in his own princely style, and perhaps within the limits of that his special jurisdiction. Neither is devotion to the Saints without its interests in this devotion for the dead. It fills them with the delights of charity as it swells their numbers and beautifies their ranks and orders. Numberless patron saints are personally interested in multitudes of souls. The affectionate relation between their clients and themselves not only subsists, but a deeper tenderness has entered into it, because of the fearful suffering, and a livelier interest, because of the accomplished victory. They see in the Holy Souls their own handiwork, the fruit of their example, the answer to their prayers, the success of their patronage, the beautiful and finished crown of their affectionate intercession. * * * * * Another point of view from which we may look at this devotion for the dead, is as a specially complete and beautiful exercise of the three theological virtues of faith, hope, and charity, which are the supernatural fountains of our whole spiritual life. It exercises faith, because it leads men not only to dwell in the unseen world, but to work for it with as much energy and conviction as if it was before their very eyes. Unthoughtful or ill-read persons almost start sometimes at the minuteness, familiarity, and assurance with which men talk of the unseen world, as if it were the banks of the Rhine, or the olive-yards of Provence, the Campagna of Rome, or the crescent shores of Naples, some place which they have seen in their travels, and whose geographical features are ever in their memory, as vividly as if before their eyes. It all comes of faith, of prayer, of spiritual reading, of knowledge of the lives of the Saints, and of the study of theology. It would be strange and sad if it were not so. For, what to us, either in interest or importance, is the world we see, to the world we do not see? This devotion exercises our faith also in the effects of the sacrifice and sacraments, which are things we do not see, but which we daily talk of in reference to the dead as undoubted and accomplished facts. It exercises our faith in the communion of Saints to a degree which would make it seem impossible to a heretic that he ever could believe so wild and extravagant a creed. It acts with regard to indulgences as if they were the most inevitable material transactions of this world. It knows of the unseen treasure out of which they come, of the unseen keys which open the treasury, of the indefinite jurisdiction which places them infallibly at its disposal, of God's unrevealed acceptance of them, and of the invisible work they do, just as it knows of trees and clouds, of streets and churches--that is, just as certainly and undoubtingly; though it often can give others no proof of these things, nor account for them to itself.... It exhibits the same quiet faith in all those Catholic devotions which I mentioned before as centering themselves in this devotion for the dead. * * * * * Neither is this devotion a less heroic exercise of the theological virtue of hope, the virtue so sadly wanting in the spiritual life of these times. For, look what a mighty edifice this devotion raises; lofty, intricate, and of magnificent proportions, into which somehow or other all creation is drawn, from the little headache we suffer up to the Sacred Humanity of Jesus, and which has to do even with God Himself. And upon what does all this rest, except on a simple, child- like trust in God's fidelity, which is the supernatural motive of hope? We hope for the souls we help, and unbounded are the benedictions which we hope for in their regard. We hope to find mercy ourselves, because of our mercy; and this hope quickens our merits without detracting from the merit of our charity.... For the state of the dead is no dream, nor our power to help them a dream, any more than the purity of God is a dream, or the Precious Blood a dream. * * * * * As to the charity of this devotion, it dares to imitate even the charity of God Himself. What is there in heaven or on earth which it does not embrace, and with so much facility, with so much gracefulness, as if there were scarcely an effort in it, or as if self was charmed away, and might not mingle to distract it? It is an exercise of the love of God, for it is loving those whom He loves, and loving them because He loves them, and to augment His glory and multiply His praise.... To ourselves also it is an exercise of charity, for it gains us friends in heaven; it earns mercy for us when we ourselves shall be in Purgatory, tranquil victims, yet, oh! in what distress! and it augments our merits in the sight of God, and so, if only we persevere, our eternal recompense hereafter. Now if this tenderness for the dead is such an exercise of these three theological virtues, and if, again, even heroic sanctity consists principally in their exercise, what store ought we not to set upon this touching and beautiful devotion? * * * * * Look at that vast kingdom of Purgatory, with its empress-mother, Mary! All those countless throngs of souls are the dear and faithful spouses of Jesus. Yet in what a strange abandonment of supernatural suffering has His love left them! He longs for their deliverance; He yearns for them to be transferred from that land, perpetually overclouded with pain, to the bright sunshine of their heavenly home. Yet He has tied His own hands, or nearly so. He gives them no more grace; He allows them no more time for penance; He prevents them from meriting; nay, some have thought they could not pray. How, then, stands the case with the souls in the suffering Church? Why, it is a thing to be meditated on when we have said it--they depend almost more on earth than they do on heaven, almost more on us than on Him; so He has willed it on whom all depend, and without whom there is no dependence. It is clear, then, that Jesus has His interests there. He wants His captives released. Those whom He has redeemed He now bids us redeem, us whom, if there be life at all in us, He has already Himself redeemed. Every satisfaction offered up to God for these suffering souls, every oblation of the Precious Blood to the Eternal Father, every Mass heard, every communion received, every voluntary penance undergone; the scourge, the hair- shirt, the prickly chain, every indulgence gained, every jubilee whose conditions we have fulfilled, every _De Profundis_ whispered, every little alms doled out to the poor who are poorer than ourselves, and, if they be offered for the intention of these dear prisoners, the interests of Jesus are hourly forwarded in Mary's Kingdom of Purgatory.... There is no fear of overworking the glorious secretary of that wide realm, the blessed Michael, Mary's subject. See how men work at the pumps on ship-board when they are fighting for their lives with an ugly leak. Oh! that we had the charity so to work, with the sweet instrumentality of indulgence, for the Holy Souls in Purgatory! The infinite satisfactions of Jesus are at our command, and Mary's sorrows, and the Martyr's pangs, and the Confessor's weary perseverance in well- doing! Jesus will not help Himself here, because He loves to see us helping Him, and because He thinks our love will rejoice that He still leaves us something we can do for Him. There have been Saints who have devoted their whole lives to this one work, mining in Purgatory; and, to those who reflect in faith, it does not seem, after all, so strange. It is a foolish comparison, simply because it is so much below the mark; but on all principles of reckoning, it is a much less work to have won the battle of Waterloo, or to have invented the steam-engine, than to have freed one soul from Purgatory. WHY THE SOULS IS PURGATORY ARE CALLED "POOR" SOULS. FATHER MULLER, C.S.S.R. [1] [Footnote 1: Charity to the Holy Souls in Purgatory] We have just seen that the Jews believed in the doctrine of Purgatory; we have seen that their charity for the dead was so great that the Holy Ghost could not help praising them for it. Yet for all that, we may assert in truth that the people of God under the Old Law were not so well instructed in this doctrine as we are, nor had they such powerful means to relieve the souls--in Purgatory as we have. Our faith, therefore, should be more lively, and our charity for the souls in Purgatory more ardent and generous. A short time ago a fervent young priest of this country had the following conversation with a holy Bishop on his way to Rome. The Bishop said to him: "You make mementoes now and then, for friends of yours that are dead--do you not?" The young priest answered: "Certainly, I do so very often." The Bishop rejoined: "So did I, when I was a young priest. But one time I was grievously ill. I was given up as about to die. I received Extreme Unction and the Viaticum. It was then that my whole past life, with all its failings and all its sins, came before me with startling vividness. I saw how much I had to atone for; and I reflected on how few Masses would be said for me, and how few prayers. Ever since my recovery I have most fervently offered the Holy Sacrifice for the repose of the pious and patient souls in Purgatory; and I am always glad when I can, as my own offering, make the 'intention' of my Masses for the relief of their pains." Indeed, dear reader, no one is more deserving of Christian charity and sympathy than the poor souls in Purgatory. They are _really_ POOR _souls_. No one is sooner forgotten than they are. How soon their friends persuade themselves that they are in perfect peace! How little they do for their relief when their bodies are buried! There is a lavish expense for the funeral. A hundred dollars are spent where the means of the family hardly justify the half of it. Where there is more wealth, sometimes five hundred or a thousand, and even more, dollars are expended on the poor dead body. But let me ask you what is done for the _poor living soul_? Perhaps the poor soul is suffering the most frightful tortures in Purgatory, whilst the lifeless body is laid out in state, and borne pompously to the graveyard. You must not misunderstand me: it is right and just to show all due respect even to the body of your deceased friend, for that body was once the dwelling-place of his soul. But tell me candidly, what joy has the departed, and, perhaps, suffering soul, in the fine music of the choir, even should the choir be composed of the best singers in the country? What consolation does the poor suffering soul find in the superb coffin, in the splendid funeral? What pleasure does the soul derive from the costly marble monument, from all the honors that are so freely lavished on the body? All this may satisfy, or at least seem to satisfy, the living, but it is of no avail whatever to the dead. Poor unhappy souls! how the diminution of true Catholic faith is visited upon you while you suffer, and those that loved you in life might help you, and do not, for want of knowledge or of faith! Poor unhappy souls! your friends go to their business, to their eating and drinking, with the foolish assurance that the case cannot be hard on one they knew to be so good! Oh, how much and how long this _false charity_ of your friends makes you suffer! The venerable Sister, Catherine Paluzzi, offered up, for a long time, and with the utmost fervor, prayers and pious works for the soul of her deceased father. At last she thought she had good reason to believe that her father was already enjoying the bliss of Paradise. But how great was her consternation and grief when Our Lord, in company with St. Catherine, her patroness, led her one day, in spirit, to Purgatory. There she beheld her father in an abyss of torments, imploring her assistance. At the sight of the pitiful state the soul of her father was in, she melted into tears; she cast herself at the feet of her Heavenly Spouse, and begged Him, through His precious Blood, to free her father from his excruciating sufferings. She also begged St. Catherine to intercede for him, and then turning to Our Lord, she said: "Charge me, O Lord, with my father's indebtedness to Thy justice. In expiation of it, I am ready to take upon myself all the afflictions Thou art pleased to bestow upon me." Our Lord graciously accepted this act of heroic charity, and released at once her father's soul from Purgatory. But how heavy were the crosses which she, from that time, had to suffer, may be more easily imagined than described. This pious sister seemed to have good reason to believe that her father's soul was in Paradise. Yet she was mistaken. Alas! how many are there who resemble her! How many are there whose hope as to the condition of their deceased friends is far more vain and false than that of this religious, because they pray much less for the souls of their departed friends than she did for her father. * * * * * It is related in the life of St. Mary Magdalen of Pazzi, that one day she saw the soul of one of her deceased sisters kneeling in adoration before the Blessed Sacrament, in the church, wrapped up in a mantle of fire, and suffering great pains, in expiation of her neglecting to go to Holy Communion on one day, when she had her confessor's permission to communicate. The Venerable Bede relates that it was revealed to Drithelm, a great servant of God, that the souls of those who spend their whole lives in the state of mortal sin, and are converted only on their death-bed, are doomed to suffer the pains of Purgatory to the day of the last judgment. In the life and revelations of St. Gertrude we read that those who have committed many grievous sins, and who die without having done due penance, are not assisted by the ordinary suffrages of the Church until they are partly purified by Divine Justice in Purgatory. After St. Vincent Ferrer had learned the death of his sister Frances, he at once began to offer up many fervent prayers and works of penance for the repose of her soul. He also said thirty Masses for her, at the last of which it was revealed to him that, had it not been for his prayers and good works, the soul of his sister would have suffered in Purgatory to the end of the world. From these examples you may draw your own conclusion as to the state of your deceased friends and relatives. Rest assured that the judgments of God are very different from the judgments of men. * * * * * In heaven, love for God is the happiness of the elect; but in Purgatory it is the source of the most excruciating pains. It is principally for this reason that the souls in Purgatory are called "poor souls," they being, as they are, in the most dreadful state of poverty--that of the privation of the beatific vision of God. After Anthony Corso, a Capuchin Brother, a man of great piety and perfection, had departed this life, he appeared to one of his brethren in religion, asking him to recommend him to the charitable prayers of the community, in order that he might receive relief in his pains. "For I do not know," said he, "how I can bear any longer the pain of being deprived of the sight of my God. I shall be the most unhappy of creatures as long as I must live in this state. Would to God that all men might understand what it is to be without God, in order that they might firmly resolve to suffer anything during their life on earth rather than expose themselves to the danger of being damned, and deprived forever of the sight of God." [1] [Footnote 1: 1 Aunal. Pp. Capuc., A.D. 1548.] * * * * * The souls in Purgatory are _poor_ souls, because they suffer the greatest pain of the senses, which is that of _fire_. Who can be in a poorer or more pitiful condition than those who are buried in fire? Now, this is the condition of these poor souls. They are buried under waves of fire. It is from the smallest spark of this purgatorial fire that they suffer more intense pains than all the fires of this world put together could produce.... Could these poor souls leave the fire of Purgatory for the most frightful earthly fire they would, as it were, take it for a pleasure- garden; they would find a fifty years' stay in the hottest earthly fire more endurable than an hour's stay in the fire of Purgatory. Our terrestrial fire was not created by God to torment men, but rather to benefit them; but the fire of Purgatory was created by God for no other purpose than to be an instrument of His justice; and for this reason it is possessed of a burning quality so intense and penetrating that it is impossible for us to conceive even the faintest idea of it. * * * * * In the year 1150 it happened that, on the Vigil of St. Cecilia, a very old monk, one hundred years of age, at Marchiennes, in Flanders, fell asleep while sacred lessons were being read, and saw, in a dream, a monk all clad in armor, shining like red-hot iron in a furnace. The old man asked him who he was. He was told that he was one of the monks of the convent; that he was in Purgatory, and had yet to endure this fiery armor for ten years more, for having injured the reputation of another. * * * * * Another reason why these holy prisoners and debtors to the divine justice are really _poor_ is because they are not able, in the least, to assist themselves. A sick man afflicted in all his limbs, and a beggar in the most painful and most destitute of conditions, has a tongue left to ask for relief. At least they can implore Heaven; it is never deaf to their prayer. But the souls in Purgatory are so poor that they cannot even do this. Those cases in which some of them were permitted to appear to their friends and ask assistance are but exceptions. To whom is it they should have recourse? Is it, perhaps, to the mercy of God? Alas! they send forth their sighs in plaintive voices.... But the Lord does not regard their tears, nor heed their moans and cries, but answers them that His justice must be satisfied to the last farthing. * * * * * Oh, what cruelty! A sick man weeps on his bed and his friend consoles him; a baby cries in his cradle and his mother at once caresses him; a beggar knocks at the door for an alms and receives it; a malefactor laments in his prison, and comfort is given him; even a dog that whines at the door is taken in; but these poor, helpless souls cry day and night from the depths of the fire in Purgatory: "Have pity on me, have pity on me, at least you, my friends, because the hand of the Lord hath smitten me;" and there is none to listen! Oh, what great cruelty, my brethren! But it seems to me that I hear these poor souls exclaim: "Priest of the Lord, speak no longer of our sufferings and pitiable condition. Let your description of it be ever so touching, it will not afford us the least relief. When a man has fallen into the fire, instead of considering his pains, you try at once to draw him out or quench the fire with water. This is true charity. Now, tell Christians to do the same for us. Tell them to give us their feet, by going to hear Mass for us; to give us their eyes, by seeking an occasion to perform a good work for us; to give us their hands, by giving an alms for us, or by often making an offering for the 'intention' of Masses in our behalf; to give us their lips, by praying for us; to give us their tongue, by requesting others to be charitable to us; to give us their memory, by remembering us constantly in their devotions; to give us their body, by offering up for us to the Almighty all its labors, fatigues, and penance."... We read in the Acts of the Apostles, that the faithful prayed unceasingly for St. Peter when he was imprisoned, and that an Angel came and broke his chains and released him. "We, too, should be good angels to the poor souls in Purgatory, and free them from their painful captivity by every means in our power." * * * * * In the time of St. Bernard, a monk of Clairvaux appeared after his death to his brethren in religion, to thank them for having delivered him from Purgatory. On being asked what had most contributed to free him from his torments, he led the inquirer to the church, where a priest was saying Mass. "Look!" said he; "this is the means by which my deliverance has been effected; this is the power of God's mercy; this is the saving Sacrifice which taketh away the sins of the world." Indeed, so great is the efficacy of this Sacrifice in obtaining relief for the souls in Purgatory, that the application of all the good works which have been performed from the beginning of the world, would not afford so much assistance to one of these souls as is imparted by a single Mass. To illustrate: The blessed Henry Suso made an agreement with one of his brethren in religion that, as soon as either of them died, the survivor should say two Masses every week for one year, for the repose of his soul. It came to pass that the religious with whom Henry had made this contract, died first. Henry prayed every day for his deliverance from Purgatory, but forgot to say the Masses which he had promised; whereupon the deceased religious appeared to him with a sad countenance, and sharply rebuked him for his unfaithfulness to his engagement. Henry excused himself by saying that he had often prayed for him with great fervor, and had even offered up for him many penitential works. "Oh, brother!" exclaimed the soul, "blood, blood is necessary to give me some relief and refreshment in my excruciating torments. Your penitential works, severe as they are, cannot deliver me. Nothing can do this but the blood of Jesus Christ, which is offered up in the Sacrifice of the Mass. Masses, Masses--these are what I need!" * * * * * Another means to relieve the souls in Purgatory is to gain indulgences for them. A very pious nun had just died in the convent in which St. Mary Magdalen of Pazzi lived. Whilst her corpse was exposed in the church, the Saint looked lovingly upon it, and prayed fervently that the soul of her sister might soon enter into eternal rest. Whilst she was thus wrapt in prayer her sister appeared to her, surrounded by great splendor and radiance, in the act of ascending into heaven. The Saint, on seeing this, could not refrain from calling out to her: "Farewell, dear sister! When you meet your Heavenly Spouse, remember us who are still sighing for Him in this vale of tears!" At these words our Lord Himself appeared, and revealed to her that this sister had entered heaven so soon on account of the indulgences gained for her. [1] [Footnote 1: Vita S. Magd. de Pazzi, L. I., chap, xxxix.] Very many plenary indulgences can be gained for the souls in Purgatory, if you make the Stations of the Cross. The merit of this exercise, if applied to these souls, obtains great relief for them. We read in the life of Catherine Emmerich, a very pious Augustinian nun, that the souls in Purgatory often came to her during the night, and requested her to rise and make the Stations for their relief. It is also related in the life of the venerable Mary of Antigua, that a deceased sister of her convent appeared to her and said: "Why do you not make the Stations of the Way of the Cross for me?" Whilst the servant of the Lord felt surprised and astonished at these words, Jesus Christ Himself spoke to her, thus: "The exercise of the Stations is of the greatest advantage to the souls in Purgatory; so much so that this soul has been permitted by Me, to ask of you its performance in behalf of them all. Your frequent performance of this exercise to procure relief for these souls has induced them to hold intercourse with you, and you shall have them for so many intercessors and protectors before My justice. Tell your sisters to rejoice at these treasures, and the splendid capital which they have in them, that they may grow rich upon it." * * * * * After St. Ludgarde had offered up many fervent prayers for the repose of the soul of her deceased friend Simeon, Abbot of the monastery of Toniac, Our Lord appeared to her, saying: "Be consoled, My daughter; on account of thy prayers, I will soon release this soul from Purgatory." "O Jesus, Lord and Master of my heart!" she rejoined, "I cannot feel consoled so long as I know that the soul of my friend is suffering so much in the Purgatorial fire. Oh! I cannot help shedding most bitter tears until Thou hast released this soul from its sufferings." Touched and overcome by this fervent prayer, Our Lord released the soul of Simeon, who appeared to Ludgarde all radiant with heavenly glory, and thanked her for the many fervent prayers which she had offered up for his delivery. He also told the Saint that, had it not been for her fervent prayers, he should have been obliged to stay in Purgatory for eleven years.... Peter, the venerable Abbot of Cluny, relates an event somewhat similar. There was a monk at Cluny, named Bernard Savinellus. One night as he was returning to the dormitory, he met Stephen, commonly called Blancus, Abbot of St. Giles, who had departed this life a few days before. At first, not knowing him, he was passing on, till he spoke, and asked him whither he was hastening. Bernard, astonished and angry that a monk should speak, contrary to the rules, in the nocturnal hours, and in a place where it was not permitted, made signs to him to hold his peace; but as the dead abbot replied, and urged him to speak, the other, raising his head, asked in amazement who he might be. He was answered, "I am Stephen, the Abbot of St. Giles, who have formerly committed many faults in the Abbey, for which I now suffer pains; and I beseech you to implore the lord Abbot, and other brethren, to pray for me, that by the ineffable mercy of God, I may be delivered." Bernard replied that he would do so, but added that he thought no one would believe his report; to which the dead man answered, "In order, then, that no one may doubt, you may assure them that within eight days you will die;" he then disappeared. The monk, returning to the church, spent the remainder of the night in prayer and meditation. When it was day, he related his vision to St. Hugo, who was then abbot. As is natural, some believed his account, and others thought it was some delusion. The next day the monk fell sick, and continued growing worse, constantly affirming the truth of what he had related, till his death, which occurred within the time specified. * * * * * Besides prayer and other acts of devotion we can offer up for the poor souls, we may especially reckon _alms-deeds_; for since this is a work of mercy, it is more especially apt to obtain mercy for the poor souls. But not the rich alone can give alms, but the poor also, since it does not so much depend on the greatness of the gift. Of the poor widow who gave but one penny, Our Lord said; that she had given more than all the rich who had offered gold and silver, because these offered only of their abundance, whilst the poor widow gave what she saved from her daily sustenance.... The venerable servant of God, Father Clement Hoffbauer, of the Congregation of the Most Holy Redeemer, who died in Vienna in the year 1820, and whose cause of beatification has already been introduced, once assisted a man of distinction in death. A short time afterwards the same man appeared to his wife in a dream, in a very pitiable condition, his clothes in rags and quite haggard, and shivering with cold. He begged her to have pity on him, because he could scarcely endure the extreme hunger and cold which he suffered. His wife went without delay to Father Hoffbauer, related her dream, and asked his advice on this point. The confessor, enlightened by God, immediately understood what this dream meant, and what kind of assistance was especially needed and asked for by this poor soul. He accordingly advised her to clothe a poor beggar. The woman followed the advice, and soon after her husband again appeared to her, dressed in a white garment, and his countenance beaming with joy, thanking her for the help which she had given to him. * * * * * We can assist the poor souls not only by prayers, devotions, exterior works of penance, alms-deeds, and other works of charity, but we can also aid them by _interior mortifications_. Everything which appears to us difficult, and which costs us a sacrifice, the pains of sickness, and all the sufferings and troubles of this life, may be offered up for these poor souls... The only son of a rich widow of Bologna had been murdered by a stranger. The culprit fell into her hands, but the pious widow was far from taking revenge by delivering him up to the hands of justice. She thought of the infinite love of our Saviour when He died for us upon the cross, and how He prayed for His executioners when dying. She, therefore, thought that she could in no way honor the memory of her dear son better, and that she could do nothing more efficient for the repose of his soul, than by granting pardon to the culprit, by protecting him, and by even adopting him as her son and heir to all her riches. This heroic self-denial, and the sacrifice which she thereby offered to Our Lord in memory of His bitter Passion, was so pleasing to God, that, in reward thereof, He remitted to her son all the pains of Purgatory. The happy son then appeared to his mother in a glorified state, at the very moment when he was entering heaven. He thanked her for having thus delivered him from the sufferings of Purgatory much sooner than any other good work could have effected it. * * * * * Those who give themselves up to immoderate grief at the loss of beloved friends, should bear this in mind also: instead of injuring their health by a grief which is of no avail to the dead, they should endeavor to deliver their souls from Purgatory by Masses, prayers, and good works; nay, the very thought that they thus render to the souls of their beloved friends the greatest possible act of charity, will console them and mitigate their sorrow. For this reason St. Paul exhorts the Thessalonians not to be afflicted on account of the departed, after the manner of heathens who have no hope. * * * * * Thomas Cantipratensis relates of a certain mother, that she wept day and night over the death of her darling son, so much so that she forgot to assist his soul in Purgatory. To convince her of her folly, God one day permitted her to be rapt in spirit, and see a long procession of youths hastening towards a city of indescribable beauty. Having looked for her son in vain for some time, she at last discovered him walking slowly along at the end of the procession. At once her son turned towards her, and said: "Ah, mother, cease your useless tears! and if you truly love me, offer up for my soul Masses, prayers, alms-deeds, and such like good works." Then he disappeared, and his mother, instead of any longer wasting her strength by foolish grief, began henceforth to give her son proofs of a true Christian and motherly love, by complying with his request. (L. II. Appar., 5, 17.) Among the appointments to the Italian Episcopate made by our Holy Father Pope Pius IX. was that of an humble and holy monk, hidden away in a poor monastery of Tuscany. When he received his Bulls he was thrown into the greatest affliction. He had gone into religion to be done with the world outside; and here he was to be thrown again into its whirlpool. He made a novena to Our Blessed Lady, invoking her help to rid him of the burden and the danger. Meantime, he wrote a letter to the See of Rome setting forth reasons why he ought not to be asked to accept, and also sending back the Bulls, with a positive _noluit_, but Rome would not excuse him. Then he went in person to see the Pope, and to implore leave to decline, which he did, even with tears. Among other reasons, the good monk said that of late he had a most miserable memory. "That is unfortunate," said the Holy Father, "for after your death, if you continue so, no one will ever refer to you as Monsignor -----, _of happy memory_! but that will be no great loss to you." Then, seeing the intense grief of the nominated Bishop, the Holy Father changed his tone and said: "At one time of my life I, also, was threatened with the loss of my memory. But I found a remedy, used it, and it has not failed me. _For the special intention of preserving this faculty of memory I have said every day a 'De Profundis' for the souls in Purgatory_. I give you this receipt for your use; and now, do not resist the will of him who gives you and the people of your diocese his blessing." It is a new revelation that our Holy Father Pius IX. was ever threatened with loss of memory. Of all his faculties of mind there was not one that excited such general astonishment as his wonderful memory. * * * * * The following incident took place at Dole, in France: One day, in the year 1629, long after her death, Leonarda Colin, niece to Hugueta Roy, appeared to her, and spoke as follows: "I am saved by the mercy of God. It is now seventeen years since I was struck down by a sudden death. My poor soul was in mortal sin, but, thanks to Mary, whose devoted servant I had ever striven to be, I obtained grace, in the last extremity, to make an act of perfect contrition, and thus I was rescued from hell- fire, but by no means from Purgatory. My sufferings in those purifying flames are beyond description. At last Almighty God has permitted my guardian angel to conduct me to you in order that you may make three pilgrimages to three Churches of our Blessed Lady in Burgundy. Upon the fulfillment of said condition, my deliverance from Purgatory is promised." Hugueta did as she was requested; whereupon the same soul appeared in a glorified state, thanking her benefactress, and promising to pray for her, and admonishing her always to remember the four last things. The Greek Emperor Theophilus was, after his death, condemned to the pains of Purgatory, because he had been unable to perform the penances which, towards the end of his life, he had wished to perform. His wife, the pious Empress Theodora, was not satisfied with pouring forth fervent prayers and sighs for the repose of his soul, but she also had prayers and Masses said in all the convents of the city of Constantinople. Besides this, she besought the Patriarch St. Methodius, that for this end he would order prayers to be said by both the clergy and the people of the city. Divine mercy could not resist so many fervent prayers. On a certain day, when public prayers were again offered up in the church of St. Sophia, an Angel appeared to St. Methodius, and said to him: "Thy prayers, O Bishop, have been heard, and Theophilus has obtained pardon." Theodora, the Empress, had, at the same time, a vision, in which our Lord Himself announced to her that her husband had been delivered from Purgatory. "For your sake," He said, "and on account of the prayers of the priests, I pardon your husband." * * * * * In the life of Blessed Margaret Mary Alacoque it is related that the soul of one of her departed sisters appeared to her, and said: "There you are, lying comfortably in your bed; but think of the bed on which I am lying, and suffering the most excruciating pains." "I saw this bed," says the Saint, "and I still tremble in all my limbs at the mere thought of it. The upper and lower part of it was full of red-hot sharp iron points, penetrating into the flesh. She told me that she had to endure this pain for her carelessness in the observance of her rules. 'My heart is lacerated,' she added, 'and this is the hardest of my pains. I suffer it for those fault-finding and murmuring thoughts which I entertained in my heart against my superiors. My tongue is eaten up by moths, and tormented, on account of uncharitable words, and for having unnecessarily spoken in the time of silence. Would to God that all souls consecrated to the service of the Lord could see me in these frightful pains! Would to God I could show them what punishments are inflicted upon those who live negligently in their vocation! They would indeed change their manner of living, observing most punctually the smallest point of their rules, and guarding against those faults for which I am now so much tormented.'" APPEAL TO ALL CLASSES FOR THE SOULS IN PURGATORY. BY A PAULIST FATHER. "My daughter is just now dead; but come, lay thy hand upon her, and she shall live."--St. Matt. ix. 18. Such was the entreaty made by the ruler to our Lord in the Gospel, and such are the words that the Lord says to us during the month of November, in behalf of the poor souls in Purgatory. These souls have been saved by the Precious Blood, they have been judged by Jesus Christ with a favorable judgment, they are His spouses, His sons and daughters--His children. He cries to us: "My children are even now dead; but come, lay your hands upon them, and they shall live." What hand is that which our Lord wants us to lay upon His dead children? Brethren, it is the hand of prayer. Now, it seems to me that there are three classes of persons who ought to be in an especial manner the friends of God's dead children; three classes who ought always to be extending a helping hand to the souls in Purgatory. First, the poor, because the holy souls are poor like yourselves. They have no work-- that is to say, the day for them is past in which they could work and gain indulgences and merit, the money with which the debt of temporal punishment is paid; for them the "night has come when no man can work." They are willing to work, they are willing to pay for themselves, but they cannot; they are out of work, they are poor, they cannot help themselves. They are suffering, as the poor suffer in this world from the heats of summer and the frosts of winter. They have no food; they are hungry and thirsty; they are longing for the sweets of heaven. They are in exile; they have no home; they know there is abundance of food and raiment around them which they cannot themselves buy. It seems to them that the winter will never pass, that the spring will never come; in a word they _are poor_. They are poor as many of you are poor. They are in worse need than the most destitute among you. Oh! then, ye that are poor, help the holy souls by your prayers. Secondly, the rich ought to be the special friends of those who are in Purgatory, and among the rich we wish to include those who are what people call "comfortably off." God has given you charge of the poor; you can help them by your alms in this world, so you can in the next. You can have Masses said for them; you can say lots of prayers for them, because you have plenty of time on your hands. Again remember, many of those who were your equals in this world, who, like yourselves, had a good supply of this world's goods, have gone to Purgatory because those riches were a snare to them. Riches, my dear friends, have sent many a soul to the place of purification. Oh! then, those of you who are well off, have pity upon the poor souls in Purgatory. Offer up a good share of your wealth to have Masses said for them. Do some act of charity, and offer the merit of it for some soul who was ensnared by riches, and who is now paying the penalty in suffering; and spend some considerable portion of your spare time in praying for the souls of the faithful departed. And lastly, sinners and those who have been converted from a very sinful life ought to be the friends of God's dead children. Why? Because, although the souls in Purgatory cannot pray for themselves, they can pray for others, and these prayers are most acceptable to God. Because, too, they are full of gratitude, and they will not forget those who helped them when they shall come before the throne of God. Because sinners, having saddened the Sacred Heart of Jesus by their sins, cannot make a better reparation to it than to hasten the time when He shall embrace these souls whom He loves so dearly, and has wished for so long. Because sinners have almost always been the means of the sins of others. They have, by their bad example, sent others to Purgatory. Ah! then, if they have helped them in, they should help them out. You, then, that are poor, you that are rich, you that have been great sinners, listen to the voice of Jesus; listen to the plaint of Mary during this month of November; "My children are now dead; come lay thy prayers up for them, and they shall live." Hear Mass for the poor souls; say your beads for them; supplicate Jesus and Mary and Joseph in their behalf. Fly to St. Catherine of Genoa and beg her to help them, and many and many a time during the month say with great fervor: "May the souls of the faithful departed through the mercy of God rest in peace."--_Five-Minute Sermons for Low Masses_. THE SOULS IN PURGATORY. [1] [Footnote 1: From the "Original, Short and Practical Sermons for every Feast of the Ecclesiastical Year."] REV. F. H. WENINGER, S.J., D.D. On the Feast of All Souls, and whenever we are reminded of Purgatory, we cannot help thinking of the dreadful pains which the souls in Purgatory have to suffer, in order to be purified from every stain of sin; of the excruciating torments they have to undergo for their faults and imperfections, and how thoroughly they have to atone for the least offences committed against the infinite holiness and justice of God. It is but just, therefore, that we should condole with them, and do all that we can to deliver them from the flames of Purgatory, or, at least, to soothe their pains.... The fire of Purgatory, as the doctors of the Church declare, is as intense as that of the abode of hell; with this difference, that it has an end. Yea! it may be that to-day a soul in Purgatory is undergoing more agony, more excruciating suffering than a damned soul, which is tormented in hell for a few mortal sins; while the poor soul in Purgatory must satisfy for millions of venial sins. All the pains which afflict the sick upon earth, added to all that the martyrs have ever suffered, cannot be compared with those in Purgatory, so great is the punishment of those poor souls. We read, how once a sick person who was very impatient in his sufferings, exclaimed; "O God, take me from this world!" Thereupon the Angel Guardian appeared to him, and told him to remember that, by patiently bearing his afflictions upon his sick-bed, he could satisfy for his sins, and shorten his Purgatory. But the sick man replied that he chose rather to satisfy for his sins in Purgatory. The poor sufferer died; and behold, his Guardian Angel appeared to him again, and asked him if he did not repent of the choice he had made of satisfying for his sins in Purgatory, by tortures, rather than upon earth by afflictions. Thereupon the poor soul asked the angel: "How many years am I now here in these terrible flames?" The Angel replied: "How many years? Thy body upon earth is not yet buried; nay, it is not yet cold and still thou believest already thou art here for many years!" Oh, how that soul lamented upon hearing this. Great indeed was its grief for not having chosen patiently to undergo upon earth the sufferings of sickness, and thereby shorten its Purgatory. * * * * * Upon earth, persons who anxiously seek another abode or another state of life, often know not whether, perhaps, they may not fall into a more wretched condition. How many have forsaken the shores of Europe, with the bright hope of a better future awaiting them in America? All has been disappointment! They have repented a thousand times of having deserted their native country. Now does this disappointment await the souls in Purgatory upon their deliverance? Ah! by no means. They _know_ too well that when they are released heaven will be their home. Once there, no more pains, no more fire for them; but the enjoyment of an _everlasting bliss_, which no eye hath seen nor ear heard; nor hath it entered into the heart of man to conceive. Such will be their future happy state. Oh! how great is their desire to be there already. Another circumstance which especially intensifies hope in the breast of man, is _intercourse_--union with those who are near and dear to him. How many, indeed, have bid a last farewell to Europe, where they would have prospered; but oh, there are awaiting them in another land their beloved ones--those who are so dear, and in whose midst they long to be! Oh, what a great source of desire is not this, for the poor souls in Purgatory to go to heaven! In heaven they shall find again those whom they have loved and cherished upon earth, but who have already preceded them on their way to the heavenly mansion.... There is still another feature, another circumstance which presents itself in the condition of the poor souls in Purgatory: I mean the irresistible force or tendency with which they are drawn towards _God_; their intense longing after Him, their last aim and end.... Oh, with what intense anxiety and longing is not a poor soul in Purgatory consumed, to behold the splendor of its Lord and Creator! But, also! with what marks of _gratitude_ does not every soul whom we have assisted to enter heaven pray for us upon its entrance! Therefore, let us hasten to the relief of the poor suffering souls in Purgatory. Let us help them to the best of our power, so that they may supplicate for us before the throne of the Most High; that they may remember us when we, too, shall one day be afflicted in that prison house of suffering, and may procure for us a speedy release and an early enjoyment of a blissful eternity. * * * * * When it will be your turn one day to dwell in those flames, and be separated from God, how happy will you not be, if others alleviate and shorten your pains! Do you desire this assistance for your own soul? Then begin in this life, while you have time, to render aid to the poor souls in Purgatory.... He who does not assist others, unto him shall no mercy be shown; for this is what even-handed justice requires. Hence, let us not be deaf to the pitiful cries of the departed ones.... What afflicts those poor, helpless souls still more, is the circumstance that, despite their patience in _suffering_, they can earn nothing for heaven. With us, however, such is not the case. We, by our patience under affliction, may merit much, very much indeed, for Paradise.... I well remember a certain sick person who was sorely pressed with great sufferings. Wishing to console him in his distress, I said: "Friend, such severe pains will not last long. You will either recover from your illness and become well and strong again, or God will soon call you to himself." Thereupon the sick man, turning his eyes upon a crucifix which had been placed for him at the foot of his bed, replied: "Father, I desire no alleviation in my suffering, no relief in my pains. I cheerfully endure all as long as it is God's good pleasure, but I hope that I now undergo my Purgatory." Then, stretching forth his hands towards his crucifix he thus addressed it, filled with the most lively hope in God's mercy: "Is it not so, dear Jesus? Thou wilt only take me from my bed of pain to receive me straightway into heaven!" * * * * * We find in the lives of all the saints a most ardent zeal in the cause of these poor afflicted ones. For their relief they offered to God not only prayers, but also Masses, penances, the most severe sicknesses, and the most painful trials, and all this as a recognition and a practical display of the belief which they cherished--that they who have slept in Christ are finally to repose with him in glory.... Because all that we perform for the help and delivery of the poor souls in Purgatory, are works of Christian faith and piety. Such are prayer, the august sacrifice of the Mass, the reception of the holy sacraments, alms-deeds, and acts of penance and self-denial.... Remember, dear Christians, that we, too, shall be poor, helpless, and suffering souls in Purgatory, and what shall we carry with us of all our earthly goods and treasures? Not a single farthing. * * * * * We read, in the life of St. Gertrude, that God once allowed her to behold Purgatory. And, lo! she saw a soul that was about issuing from Purgatory, and Christ, who, followed by a band of holy virgins, was approaching, and stretching forth his hands towards it. Thereupon the soul, which was almost out of Purgatory, drew back, and of its own accord sank again into the fire. "What dost thou?" said St. Gertrude to the soul. "Dost thou not see that Christ wishes to release thee from thy terrible abode?" To this the soul replied: "O Gertrude, thou beholdest me not as I am. I am not yet immaculate. There is yet another stain upon me. I will not hasten thus to the arms of Jesus." A POPULAR VIEW OF PURGATORY. REV. J. J. MORIARTY, LL.D. Purgatory is a state of suffering for such souls as have left this life in the friendship of God, but who are not sufficiently purified to enter the kingdom of heaven--having to undergo some temporal punishment for their lighter sins and imperfections, or for their grievous sins, the eternal guilt of which has been remitted. In other words, we believe that the souls of all who departed this life--not wicked enough to be condemned to hell, nor yet pure enough to enjoy the Beatific Vision of God--are sent to a place of purgation, where, in the crucible of suffering, the lighter stains of their souls are thoroughly removed, and they themselves are gradually prepared to enter the Holy of Holies --where nothing defiled is permitted to approach. * * * * * ----There are many venial faults which the majority of persons commit, and for which they have little or no sorrow--sins which do not deprive the soul of God's friendship, and yet are displeasing to His infinite holiness. For all these we must suffer either in this life or the next. Divine justice weighs everything in a strict balance, and there is no sin that we commit but for which we shall have to make due reparation. Faults which we deem of little or no account the Almighty will not pass unnoticed or unpunished. Our Blessed Saviour warns us that even for "every idle word that man shall say he shall render an account in the day of judgment." We know full well that no man will be sent to hell merely for an "idle word," or for any venial fault he may commit; consequently there must be a place where such sins are punished. If they be not satisfied for here upon earth by suffering, affliction, or voluntary penance, there must be a place in the other life where proper satisfaction is to be made. That place cannot be either heaven or hell. It cannot be heaven, for no sufferings, no pain, no torment is to be found there, where "God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes, where death shall be no more, nor mourning nor weeping." It cannot be hell, where only the souls of those who have died enemies of God are condemned to eternal misery, for "out of hell there is no redemption." There must be, then, a Middle Place where lighter faults are cleansed from the soul, and proper satisfaction is rendered for the temporal punishment that still remains due. The punishment of every one will vary according to his desert. * * * * * Our Divine Lord warns us to make necessary reparation whilst we have the time and opportunity. "Make an agreement with thy adversary quickly whilst thou art in the way with him; lest, perhaps, the adversary deliver thee to the judge, and the judge deliver thee to the officer, and thou be cast into prison. Amen I say to thee, thou shalt not go out from thence till thou pay the last farthing." (St. Matthew, v., 25, 26.) This expresses the doctrine of Purgatory most admirably. The Scriptures always describe our life as a pilgrimage. We are only on our way. We have to meet the claims of Divine justice here before being called to the tribunal of the everlasting Judge; otherwise, even should we die in His friendship and yet have left these claims not entirely satisfied, we shall be cast into the prison of Purgatory; and "Amen, I say unto thee that thou shalt not go out from thence until thou pay the last farthing." * * * * * Our Saviour declares (St. Matthew, xii. 32,) that "whoever shall speak a word against the Son of Man, it shall be forgiven him; but he that shall speak against the Holy Ghost, it shall not be forgiven him, either in this life or in the world to come;" which shows, as St. Augustine says in the twenty-first book of his work, "The City of God," that there are some sins (venial of course) which shall be forgiven in the next world, and that, consequently, there is a middle state, or place of purgation in the other life, since no one can enter heaven having any stain of sin, and surely no one can obtain forgiveness in hell. The testimony of St. Paul is very clear on this point of doctrine: "For no man can lay another foundation but that which is laid; which is Jesus Christ. Now if any man build on that foundation, gold, silver, precious stones, wood, hay, stubble: every man's work shall be made manifest; for the day of the Lord shall declare it, because it shall be revealed by fire; and the fire shall try every man's work, of what sort it is. If any man's work abide, which he had built thereupon, he shall receive a reward. If any man's work burn, he shall suffer loss; _but he himself shall be saved, yet so as by fire_." * * * * * In the First Epistle of St. Peter (Chap. iii. 18, 19), we learn that Christ "being put to death, indeed, in the flesh, but brought to life by the spirit, in which also He came and preached to those spirits who were in prison." Our Blessed Saviour, immediately after death, descended into that part of hell called Limbo, and, as St. Peter informs us, "preached to the spirits who were in prison." This most certainly shows the existence of a middle state. The spirits to whom our Lord preached were certainly not in the hell of the damned, where His preaching could not possibly bear any fruit; they were not already in heaven, where no preaching is necessary, since there they see God face to face. Therefore they must have been in some middle state--call it by whatever name you please-- where they were anxiously awaiting their deliverance at the hands of their Lord and Redeemer. Belief in Purgatory is more ancient than Christianity itself. It was the belief among the Jews of old, and of this we have clear proof in the Second Book of Machabees, xii., 43. After a great victory gained by that valiant chieftain, Judas Machabeus, about two hundred years before the coming of Christ, "Judas making a gathering, he sent twelve thousand drachmas of silver to Jerusalem for sacrifice to be offered for the sins of the dead, thinking well and justly concerning the resurrection.... It is, therefore, a holy and wholesome thought to pray for the dead, that they may be loosed from their sins." It is customary, even in our days, in Jewish synagogues, to erect tablets reminding those present of the lately deceased, in order that they may remember them in their prayers. Surely, if there did not exist a place of purgation, no prayers nor sacrifices would be of any avail to the departed. We find the custom of praying, of offering the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass for their spiritual benefit, more especially on their anniversaries, an universal practice among the primitive Christians of the Eastern and Western Churches, of the Greek, Latin, and Oriental Rites. Even if we did not find strong warrant, as we do, in the Scriptures, the authority of Apostolic Tradition would be amply sufficient for us; for, remember, we Catholics hold the traditions, handed down from the Apostles, to be of as much weight as their own writings. ... Hence it is that we have recourse to sacred tradition as well as to Scripture for the proof of our teaching. With reference, then, to the doctrine of "Purgatory," we are guided by the belief that prevailed among the primitive Christians. That the custom of praying for the dead was sanctioned by the Apostles themselves, we have the declaration of St. John Chrysostom: "It was not in vain instituted by the Apostles that in the celebration of the tremendous mysteries a remembrance should be made of the departed. They knew that much profit and advantage would be thereby derived." Tertullian--the most ancient of the Latin Fathers, who flourished in the age immediately following that of the Apostles--speaks of the duty of a widow with regard to her deceased husband: "Wherefore also does she pray for his soul, and begs for him, in the interim, refreshment, and in the first resurrection, companionship, and makes offerings for him on the anniversary day of his falling asleep in the Lord. For unless she has done these things, she has truly repudiated him so far as is in her power." All this supposes a Purgatory. "The measure of the pain," says St. Gregory Nyssa, "is the quantity of evil to be found in each one.... Being either purified during the present life by means of prayer and the pursuit of wisdom, or, after departure from this life, by means of the furnace of the fire of purgatory." * * * * * Not only deeply instructive, but also eminently consoling is the doctrine of Purgatory. We need not "mourn as those who have no hope," for those nearest and dearest who have gone hence and departed this life in the friendship of God. How beautifully our Holy Mother the Church bridges over the terrible chasm of the grave! How faithfully and tenderly she comes to our aid in the saddest of our griefs and sorrows! She leaves us not to mourn uncomforted, unsustained. She chides us not for shedding tears over our dear lost ones--a beloved parent, a darling child, a loving brother, affectionate sister, or deeply-cherished friend or spouse. She bids us let our tears flow, for our Saviour wept at the grave of Lazarus. She whispers words of comfort--not unmeaning words, but words of divine hope and strength--to our breaking hearts. She pours the oil of heavenly consolation into our deepest wounds. She bids us cast off all unseemly grief, assuring us that not even death itself can sever the bond that unites us; that we can be of service to those dear departed ones whom we loved better than life itself; that we can aid them by our prayers and good works, and especially by, the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass. Thus may we shorten their time of banishment, assuage their pains, and continue to storm Heaven itself with our piteous appeals until the Lord deign to look down in mercy, open their prison doors, and admit them to the full light of His holy presence, and to the everlasting embrace of their Redeemer and their God. EXTRACTS FROM "CATHOLIC BELIEF." VERY REV. FAÁ DI BRUNO. [1] [Footnote 1: Catholic Belief, or, A Short and Simple Exposition of Catholic Doctrine, by Very Rev. Joseph Faá Di Bruno. D. D., Rector- General of the Pious Society of Missions of the Church of San Salvatore in Onde, Ponte Sisto, Rome, and St. Peter's Italian Church in London. American Edition, edited by Father Lambert, author of Notes on Ingersoll, &c.] As works of penance have no value in themselves except through the merits of Jesus Christ, so the pains of Purgatory have no power in themselves to purify the soul from sin, but only in virtue of Christ's Redemption, or, to speak more exactly, the souls in Purgatory are able to discharge the debt of temporal punishment demanded by God's justice, and to have their venial sins remitted only through the merits of Jesus Christ, "yet so as by fire." The Catholic belief in Purgatory rests on the authority of the Church and her apostolic traditions recorded in ancient Liturgies, and in the writings of the ancient Fathers: Tertullian, St. Cyprian, Origen, Eusebius of Cæsarea, Arnobius, St. Basil, St. Ephrem of Edessa, St. Cyril of Jerusalem, St. Gregory of Nyssa, St. Ambrose, St. Epiphanius, St. John Chrysostom, St. Jerome, St. Augustine. It rests also on the Fourth Council of Carthage, and on many other authorities of antiquity. That this tradition is derived from the Apostles, St. John Chrysostom plainly testified in a passage quoted at the end of this chapter, in which he speaks of suffrages or help for the departed. St. Augustine tells us that Arius was the first who dared to teach that it was of no use to offer up prayers and sacrifices for the dead; and this doctrine of Arius he reckoned among heresies. (Book of Heresies, Heresy 53d.) There are also passages in Holy Scripture from which the Fathers have confirmed the Catholic belief on this point. St. Paul, in his first epistle to the Corinthians, chap. iii. 11-15, writes: "For other foundations no one can lay, but that which is laid; which is Christ Jesus. Now, if any man build upon this foundation, gold, silver, precious stones, wood, hay, stubble; every man's work shall be manifest; for the day of the Lord shall declare it, because it shall be revealed in fire; and the fire shall try every man's work of what sort it is. If any man's work abide, which he hath built thereupon, he shall receive a reward. If any man's work burn, he shall suffer loss; but he himself shall be saved, yet so as by fire." The ancient Fathers, Origen in the third century, St. Ambrose and St. Jerome in the fourth, and St. Augustine in the fifth, have interpreted this text of St. Paul as relating to venial sins committed by Christians which St. Paul compares to "wood, hay, stubble," and thus with this text they confirm the Catholic belief in Purgatory, well known and believed in their time, as it is by Catholics in the present time. In St. Matthew (chap. v. 25, 26) we read, "Be at agreement with thy adversary betimes, whilst thou art in the way with him; lest, perhaps, the adversary deliver thee to the judge, and the judge deliver thee to the officer, and thou be cast into prison. Amen, I say to thee, thou shalt not go out from thence till thou repay the last farthing." On this passage, St. Cyprian, Bishop of Carthage, a Father of the third century, says: "It is one thing to be cast into prison, and not go out from thence till the last farthing be paid, and another to receive at once the reward of faith and virtue: one thing in punishment of sin to be purified by long-suffering and purged by long fire, and another to have expiated all sins of suffering (in this life); one in fire, at the day of Judgment to wait the sentence of the Lord, another to receive an immediate crown from Him." (Epist. iii.) Our Saviour said: "He that shall speak against the Holy Ghost, it shall not be forgiven him in this world, nor in the world to come." (St. Matt. xii. 32.) From this text St. Augustine argues, that "It would not have been said with truth that their sin shall not be forgiven, neither in this world, nor in the world to come, unless some sins were remitted in the next world." (_De Civitate Dei_, Book xxi. chap. 24.) On the other hand, we read in several places in Holy Scripture that God will render to every one (that is, will reward or punish) according as each deserves. See, for example, in Matthew xvi. 27. But as we cannot think that God will punish everlastingly a person who dies burdened with the guilt of venial sin only, it may be an "_idle word_," it is reasonable to infer that the punishment rendered to that person in the next world will be only temporary. The Catholic belief in Purgatory does not clash with the following declarations of Holy Scripture, which every Catholic firmly believes, namely, that it is Jesus who cleanseth us from all sin, that Jesus bore "the iniquity of us all," that "by His bruises we are healed," (Isaias iii., 5); for it is through the blood of Jesus and His copious Redemption that those pains of Purgatory have power to cleanse the souls therein detained. Again, the Catholic belief in Purgatory is not in opposition to those texts of Scripture in which it is said that a man when he is justified is "translated from death to life;" that he is no longer judged: that there is no condemnation in him. For these passages do not refer to souls taken to Heaven when natural death occurs, but to persons in this world, who from the death of sin pass to the life of grace. Nor does it follow that dying in that state of grace, that is, in a state of spiritual life, they must go at once to Heaven. A soul may be justified, entirely exempt from eternal _condemnation_, and yet have something to suffer for a time; thus, also, in this world, many are justified, and yet are not exempt from suffering. Again, it is not fair to bring forward against the Catholic doctrine on Purgatory that text of the Apocalypse, Rev. xix. 13: "Blessed are the dead, who die in the Lord. From henceforth now, saith the Spirit, that they may rest from their labors: for their works follow them," for this text applies only to those souls who die perfectly in the Lord, that is, entirely free from every kind of sin, and from the _stain_, the _guilt_, and the _debt of temporal punishment_ of every sin. Catholics believe that these souls have no pain to suffer in Purgatory, as is the case with the martyrs and saints who die in a perfect state of grace. It is usual to bring forward against the Catholic belief in Purgatory that text which says: "If the tree fall to the south, or to the north, in what place soever it shall fall, there shall it be." (Eccles. xi. 3.) This text confirms and illustrates the truth that, when death comes, the _final doom_ of every one is fixed, and that there is no possibility of changing it; so that one dying in a state of mortal sin will always remain in a state of mortal sin, and consequently be rejected forever; and one dying in a state of grace and friendship with God, will forever remain accepted by God and in a state of grace, and in friendship with Him. But this text proves nothing against the existence of Purgatory; for a soul, although in a state of grace, and destined to heaven, may still have to suffer for a time before being perfectly fit to enter upon the eternal bliss, to enjoy the vision of God. Some might be disposed, notwithstanding, to regard this text as opposed to the Catholic doctrine of Purgatory by saying that the two places alluded to in the texts are heaven and hell. But this interpretation Catholics readily admit, for at death either heaven or hell is the final place to which all men are allotted, Purgatory being only a passage to heaven. This text surely does not tell against those just ones under the Old Law who died in a state of grace and salvation, and who, though sure of heaven, had yet to wait in a middle state until after the Ascension of Jesus Christ; neither, therefore, does it tell against Purgatory. Christ's Redemption is abundant, "_plentiful_" as Holy Scripture, says (Ps. cxxix. 7), and Catholics do not believe that those Christians who die guilty only of _venial the practice of the Catholic Church to offer prayers and other pious works in suffrage for the dead, as is amply testified by the Latin Fathers; for instance, Tertullian, St. Cyprian, St. Augustine, St. Gregory; and amongst the Greek Fathers, by St. Ephrem of Edessa, St. Basil and St. John Chrysostom. St. Chrysostom says: "It was not without good reason ordained by the Apostles that mention should be made of the dead in the tremendous mysteries, because they knew well that, these would receive great benefit from it" (on the First Epistle to Philippians, Homily iii.) By the expression "tremendous mysteries," is meant the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass. St. Augustine says: "It is not to be doubted that the dead are aided by the prayers of Holy Church and by the salutary sacrifice, and by the alms which are offered for their spirits, that the Lord may deal with them more mercifully than their sins have deserved. For this, which has been handed down by the Fathers, the universal Church observes." (_Enchirid_, Vol. v., Ser. 172.) The same pious custom is proved also from the ancient Liturgies of the Greek and other Eastern Churches, both Catholic and Schismatic, in which the Priest is directed to pray for the repose of the dead during the celebration of the Holy Mysteries. PURGATORY AND THE FEAST OF ALL SOULS. ALBAN BUTLER. By Purgatory no more is meant by Catholics than a middle state of souls; namely of purgation from sin by temporary chastisements, or a punishment of some sin inflicted after death, which is not eternal. As to the place, manner or kind of these sufferings nothing has been defined by the Church; and all who with Dr. Deacon except against this doctrine, on account of the circumstance of a material fire, quarrel about a mere scholastic question, in which a person is at liberty to choose either side.... Certainly some sins are venial, which deserve not eternal death. Yet if not effaced by condign punishment in this world must be punished in the next. The Scriptures frequently mention those venial sins, from which ordinarily the just are not exempt, who certainly would not be just if these lesser sins into which men easily fall by surprise, destroyed grace in them, or if they fell from charity. Yet the smallest sin excludes a soul from heaven so long as it is not blotted out.... Who is there who keeps, so constant a guard upon his heart and whole conduct as to avoid all sensible self-deceptions? Who is there upon whose heart no inordinate attachments steal; into whose actions no sloth, remissness, or other irregularity ever insinuates itself?... The Blessed Virgin was preserved by an extraordinary grace from the least sin in the whole tenor of her life and actions; but, without such a singular privilege, even the saints are obliged to say that they sin daily.... The Church of Christ is composed of three different parts: the Triumphant in Heaven, the Militant on earth, and the Patient or Suffering in Purgatory. Our charity embraces all the members of Christ.... The Communion of Saints which we profess in our Creed, implies a communication of certain good works and offices, and a mutual intercourse among all the members of Christ. This we maintain with the Saints in heaven by thanking and praising God for their triumphs and crowns, imploring their intercession, and receiving the succors of their charitable solicitude for us: likewise with the souls in Purgatory by soliciting the divine mercy in their favor. Nor does it seem to be doubted but they, as they are in a state of grace and charity, pray for us; though the Church never address public suffrages to them, not being warranted by primitive practice and tradition so to do. ... St. Odilo, abbot of Cluni, in 998, instituted the commemoration of all the faithful departed in all the monasteries of his congregation on the 1st of November, which was soon adopted by the whole Western Church. The Council of Oxford, in 1222, declared it a holiday of the second class, on which certain necessary and important kinds of work were allowed. Some dioceses kept it a holiday of precept till noon; only those of Vienne and Tours, and the order of Cluni, the whole day: in most places it is only a day of devotion. The Greeks have long kept on Saturday sevennight before Lent, and on Saturday before Whitsunday, the solemn commemoration of all the faithful departed; but offer up Mass every Saturday for them.... The dignity of these souls most strongly recommends them to our compassion, and at the same time to our veneration. Though they lie at present at a distance from God, buried in frightful dungeons under waves of fire, they belong to the happy number of the elect. They are united to God by His grace; they love Him above all things, and amidst their torments never cease to bless and praise Him, adoring the severity of His justice with perfect resignation and love.... They are illustrious conquerors of the devil, the world and hell; holy spirits loaded with merits and graces, and bearing the precious badge of their dignity and honor by the nuptial robe of the Lamb with which by an indefeasible right they are clothed. Yet they are now in a state of suffering, and endure greater torments than it is possible for any one to suffer, or for our imagination to represent to itself in this mortal life.... St. Cæsarius of Aries writes: "A person," says he, "may say, I am not much concerned how long I remain in Purgatory, provided I may come to eternal life. Let no one reason thus. Purgatory fire will be more dreadful than whatever torments can be seen, imagined, or endured in this world. And how does any one know whether he will stay days, months, or years? He who is afraid now to put his finger into the fire, does he not fear lest he be then all buried in torments for a long time.... The Church approves perpetual anniversaries for the dead; for some souls may be detained in pains to the end of the world, though after the day of judgment no third state can exist.... If we have lost any dear friends in Christ, while we confide in His mercy, and rejoice in their passage from the region of death to that of life, light, and eternal joy, we have reason to fear some lesser stains may retard their bliss. In this uncertainty let us earnestly recommend them to the divine clemency.... Perhaps, the souls of some dear friends may be suffering on our account; perhaps, for their fondness for us, or for sins of which we were the occasion, by scandal, provocation, or otherwise, in which case motives not only of charity, but of justice, call upon us to endeavor to procure them all the relief in our power.... Souls delivered and brought to glory by our endeavors will amply repay our kindness by obtaining divine graces for us. God Himself will be inclined by our charity to show us also mercy, and to shower down upon us His most precious favors. 'Blessed are the merciful, for they shall obtain mercy.' By having shown this mercy to the suffering souls in Purgatory, we shall be particularly entitled to be treated with mercy at our departure hence, and to share more abundantly in the general suffrages of the Church, continually offered for all that have slept in Christ." PART II ANECDOTES AND INCIDENTS. We know them not, nor hear the sound They make in treading all around: Their office sweet and mighty prayer Float without echo through the air; Yet sometimes, in unworldly places, Soft sorrow's twilight vales, We meet them with uncovered faces, Outside their golden pales, Though dim, as they must ever be, Like ships far-off and out at sea, With the sun upon their sails.--FABER. THE FRUIT OF A MASS. The incident we are about to relate and which, in some way, only the price of the first Mass paid for, reminds us of another which seems to be also the fruit of a single Mass given under the inspiration of faith. This fact is found in the life of St. Peter Damian, and we are happy to reproduce it here, in order to tell over again the marvels of God in those He loves, and to make manifest that charity for the poor souls brings ever and always its own reward. Peter, surnamed Damian, was born in 988, at Ravenna, in Italy. His family was poor, and he was the youngest of several children. He lost his father and mother while still very young, and was taken by one of his brothers to his home. But Damian was treated there in a very inhuman manner. He was regarded rather as a slave, or, at least, as a base menial, than as the brother of the master of the house. He was deprived of the very necessaries of life, and, after being made to work like a hired servant, he was loaded with blows. When he was older, they gave him charge of the swine. Nevertheless, Peter Damian, being endowed with rare virtue, received all with patience as coming from God. This sweet resignation on the part of a child was most pleasing to the Lord, and He rewarded him by inspiring him to a good action. One day the little Damian, leading his flocks to the pasture, found on the way a small piece of money. Oh! how rejoiced he was! How his heart swelled within him! He clapped his hands joyfully, thinking himself quite rich, and already he began to calculate all he could do with his money. Suggestions were not wanting, for he was in need of everything. Nevertheless, the noble child took time to reflect; a sudden shadow fell on the fair heaven of his happy thoughts. He all at once remembered that his father, his poor mother who had so loved him, might be still suffering cruel torments in the place of expiation. And despising his own great necessities, and generously making the sacrifice of what was for him a treasure, Damian, raised above himself and his wants by the thought of his beloved parents, brought his money to a priest, to have the Holy Sacrifice offered for them. That generous child had obeyed a holy inspiration, and this good deed of his was quickly rewarded. Fortune suddenly changed with him. He was taken by another of his brothers, who took all possible care of him. Seeing that the child had such excellent dispositions, he made him begin to study. He sent him first to Florence, then to a famous school in Parma, where he had for his master the celebrated Ivo. The brilliant qualities of Damian were rapidly developed, and soon he became professor where he had been a pupil. He afterwards gave up the world and became a religious, and was, in course of time, not only a remarkable man, but a great saint. He was charged by the Holy See with affairs the most important, and died clothed in the Roman purple. He is still a great light in the Church, and his writings are always full of piety and erudition. The little Damian, then, might well think that he possessed a treasure in his little coin, since with it he purchased earthly honors and heavenly bliss. We all of us have often had in our hand Damian's little piece of money, but have we known how to make a treasure of it? _Almanac of the Souls in Purgatory_, 1877. THE FAITH OF A PIOUS LADY. "In the course of the month of July of last year," said a zealous member of our Association for the Souls in Purgatory, "I was accosted by one of our associates who told me, with an exuberance of joy, 'Ah! we have great reason to thank the souls in Purgatory; I beg you to unite with us in thanking them for the favor they have just done us.' 'Indeed? Well! I am very happy to hear it. Has anything extraordinary happened to you? Tell me, if you please, what seems to cause you so much joy?' "Then our fervent associate--a young man of a mild and pleasing aspect, usually somewhat reserved, but of gentlemanly bearing--said, in a tone of deep emotion: "'I am rejoiced to tell you, in the first place, that I have the happiness of still having my good mother. God seems to leave her on the earth to complete the work of her purification, for she is always sick and suffering, and, as she says herself, there is neither rest nor peace for her here below; nevertheless, she resigns herself so patiently to the sufferings and tribulations which weigh so heavily upon her that it does me a twofold good every time I see her, for I love her as my mother, I venerate her as a saint. "'One day, then, last week, finding herself a little stronger, she thought she would take a short drive, being in the country for her health. The drive seemed really to do her good; the beauty of the country, and still more, the fresh, pure air, appeared to revive her, and altogether she enjoyed her drive immensely. Her heart, as well as her mind, was changed, for you know there is often a sickness of the head, as of the body. She already began to flatter herself with the hope of a speedy recovery, when, in the midst of the drive which was having so beneficial an effect, the horse, from some unknown cause, suddenly took fright, and, taking the bit between his teeth, started off at a fearful pace. "'Imagine the terror of my poor mother! On either side the road was a broad, deep ditch, and the rough, uneven soil caused the carriage to jolt fearfully, which was another great danger; and, as it so often happens in the country, the road was deserted, and no one to be seen who might give any assistance. "'To crown all, it happened that the servant who drove my mother, in his efforts to restrain the horse in his headlong flight, had the misfortune to break the reins, which were their only chance of guiding the animal in his mad career. "'Ah! how can I describe the feelings of my poor dear mother, already so sick and so feeble; in fact, she was almost dead with fright. She thought every moment that she was going to be thrown into the ditch, or dashed against the stake paling which bordered the road on either side. She was nearly in despair, when all at once the thought occurred to her to promise a Mass for the Souls in Purgatory, if the horse stopped. "'And what do you think?--Ah! I am still so agitated myself, that I can hardly tell it!--But, wonderful to relate, that horse, in the wild excitement of his flight, without so much as a thread to restrain him, who could not have been stopped by any natural cause whatsoever,--that horse stopped immediately, and one might say, suddenly, as though a barrier were placed before him! "'It were utterly impossible to express my mother's joy and gratitude. Her life will henceforth be but one long act of thanksgiving; for, without that unlooked-for help it had certainly been all over with her. Oh, I beseech you help me to thank Heaven for so great a favor.'" This example will serve to show still more clearly that God is pleased to manifest His power, even for the slightest service rendered to those whom He deigns to call His "Beloved" of Purgatory.--_Almanac of the Souls in Purgatory_. 1877. PAY WHAT THOU OWEST. When the fathers of the Society of Jesus first established their order in Kentucky, a wealthy and respected Catholic citizen of Bardstown, Mr. S----, sought admission among them,--although his age and lack of a thorough preparatory education offered obstacles to his success. He entered the Novitiate, only to be convinced that it was too late for him to become a priest, as had been prudently represented to him at the outset. However, his love for the Society had been strengthened by his short stay in the sanctuary of the community, and he resolved to devote himself to the service of the Fathers in another way. He determined to secure a suitable residence, and found a college, which, as soon as it was in a flourishing condition, he would turn over to the Society. With this object in view, Mr. S---- made diligent inquiries, and advertised in various county newspapers for a suitable residence in which to begin his good work. One of his advertisements received a prompt reply from the executors of an estate in C---- County. The property offered for sale was unencumbered, its broad lands under high cultivation, the mansion in good repair, etc. Accompanied by a friend, Mr. S---- hastened to visit the plantation. He found one wing of the house occupied by the overseer and his family, and observed with pleasure that the advertisement seemed not to have exaggerated the value of the estate. Mr. S---- and his friend tarried over night, and were assigned separate apartments, which the administrators had ordered to be kept in readiness for the reception of prospective purchasers. Although greatly fatigued by a long ride on horseback over ill-kept roads, neither of the gentlemen could sleep, on account of a wearisome, incessant knocking in an adjoining room. Each believing the other to be sound asleep, forbore to awake his tired companion, but when they met at an early breakfast, they both, as in one breath, inquired of the farmer's wife the cause of the continuous tapping in the adjoining apartment. Mrs. F---- exchanged a significant glance with her husband, and a sort of grim smile overspread the face of the latter. After a moment's hesitation, he declared that he and his wife, and the servants on the estate, had in vain tried to find out the cause. All who slept in those two rooms heard the noise, and could not sleep. Both husband and wife assured their guests that the knocking took place in the apartment always occupied, during her lifetime, by Mrs. G----, the late owner of the estate; furthermore, that the disturbance was unknown before her death. Mr. S---- and his companion naturally became more and more interested, and after suggesting all the ordinary causes of unusual and mysterious knocks, such as rats, cats, chipmunks, creaking doors, broken shutters, and the like, rode off with Mr. F---- to make a thorough examination of the estate. The two gentlemen rode all over the plantation, conferred with the executors and some lawyers, and after inspecting the house thoroughly, sat down to a dinner that was highly creditable to the hostess, who seemed anxious concerning the disclosures of the morning. When night came on, the visitors were shown to the same rooms they had previously occupied. In the morning each spoke again of his inability to get any refreshing sleep, and as they rode back to B----, talking over dreams, visions, and other supernatural occurrences, they asked themselves, might not this knocking have a supernatural cause? Concluding it might have, they considered it would be well to lay the case before the Rev. Father Q----; at least, they could go, and tell him of their journey into C---- County, and also of the mysterious knocking, if it seemed to come in naturally; for each felt a little dread of being laughed at as too credulous. In the course of their conversation with the Father, the full details of what they had learned and had personally experienced were related. Father Q---- seemed to consider the occurrence quite easily accounted for by some physical cause; but when the gentlemen recalled to his attention the circumstance of Mrs. G----'s death, he appeared to take another view of the matter. Finally, it was decided that Father Q---- and a brother priest should accompany Mr. S---- and his friend to the plantation, for a personal investigation. Soon after their arrival at the mansion the priests, preceded by the servants of the family, Mr. and Mrs. F----, and the two visitors, repaired to the mysterious chamber. When a little Holy Water had been sprinkled about the room, there was a cessation of the knocking, and after reciting some prayers, Father Q---- inquired, in Latin, of whatever spirit might be there the cause of the disturbance. He was distinctly answered in the same tongue that the soul of Mrs. G---- could not rest in peace, because of an uncancelled debt to the shoemaker, Mr. ----. The interlocutor was assured that the matter should be attended to at once. Thereupon the knocking re-commenced and continued. All were painfully surprised, but thanked God that it would be so easy a matter to settle the debt. The Rosary was then recited by the assembly, most of whom had supposed that the priests were present to bless the house. Without delay, Mr. S. and Father Q---- repaired to the shop of the village shoemaker, and begged him to present any bill that he might have against the estate of the late Mrs. G----. The shoemaker said that he did not believe there was anything due to him, for payments had always been made very punctually. However, he ran over his account-book, and declared that he found nothing. In sorrowful surprise, the two friends then took their departure, telling the shoe dealer that if, at any time, he should find aught against the property, to inform them without delay. On his return home, the shoemaker related to his mother what had happened in the shop. After reflection, she asked if he had looked over his father's accounts. "Certainly not," he said. She then remarked that the request was only half complied with, for Mrs. G---- had long been his father's customer. After dinner, they repaired to the attic, and, searching out the old ledgers, went over them carefully. To their surprise they found a bill of twelve dollars and a half, for a pair of white satin slippers (probably Mrs. G----'s wedding shoes), which, in the midst of various affairs, had remained unsettled. A messenger was sent with all speed to the mansion. On the way he chanced to meet Father Q---- and Mr. S----. The bill, with interest, was paid on the spot, and, returning to the house, they learned from the astonished and delighted tenants that the rappings had suddenly and entirely ceased. Shortly after, Mr. S---- became the owner of the estate, the heirs of which, preferring to live in Europe, had permitted its sale, in order to divide and enjoy the proceeds. As Mr. S---- had planned, a college was there founded, and before long it was under the control of the Society of his aspirations and his enthusiastic love.--_Ave Maria_, Nov. 15, 1884. THE VIA CRUCIS In November, 1849, Prince Charles Löwenstein Wertheim Rosenberg died. A lady who filled a subordinate office in his family as governess, communicated to the author the incidents which follow. At the prince's deathbed, which she was permitted to visit, she made a vow to say certain prayers daily for the repose of his soul, in accordance with a wish which he had expressed. When the family was residing at the castle of Henbach on the Maine, it was this lady's habit to spend a short time every evening in the private chapel. After one of those visits, about three months after the prince's death, she retired to rest, and in the course of the night had a singular dream. She was in the chapel, kneeling in a tribune; opposite to her was the high altar. She had spent some time in prayer, when suddenly, on the steps of the altar, she saw the tall figure of the deceased prince, kneeling with great apparent devotion. Presently he turned towards her, and in his usual manner of addressing her, said: "Dear child, come down to me here in the chapel; I want to speak to you." She replied that she would gladly, but that the doors were all locked. He assured her that they were all open. She went down to him, taking her candle with her. When she came near him, the prince rose to meet her, took her hand, and, without speaking, led her to the altar, and they both knelt down together. They prayed for some time in silence, then he rose once more, and standing at the foot of the altar, said: "Tell my children, my dear child, that their prayers and yours are heard. Tell them that God has accepted the _Via Crucis_ [1] which they have daily made for me, and your prayers also. I am with God in His glory, and I will pray for all those who have so faithfully prayed for me." As he spoke, his face seemed lighted up as with the glory usually painted round the head of a saint. With a farewell look he vanished, and she awoke. [Footnote 1: Way of the Cross, more commonly called the Stations of the Cross.] At breakfast she appeared agitated. She sat beside the prince's granddaughter, Princess Adelaide Löwenstein, afterwards married to Don Miguel of Portugal. This lady asked her what was the matter. She related her dream, and then begged to know what prayers the princesses had offered for the repose of his Highnesses' soul. They were the _Via Crucis_.--_Footsteps of Spirits_. [1] [Footnote 1: Published by Burns & Lambert of London.] STRANGE INCIDENTS. When the Benedictine College at Ampleforth, in Yorkshire, was building, a few years ago, one of the masons attracted the attention of the community by the interest which he took in the incidents of their daily life. He had to walk from a village three miles off, so as to be at the college every morning by six o'clock. He was first much pleased with the regularity of the community, whom he always found in the church, singing the Hours before Mass, on his arrival in the morning. By degrees he was taught the whole of the Catholic doctrine, and was received into the Church. None of his family, however, would follow his example. Exposure to cold and wet brought on an illness, of which he died, in a very pious manner. A short time after his death, his wife was one morning sweeping about the open door of her house, when her husband walked in, and sat down on a seat by the fire, and began to ask her how she did. She answered that she was well, and hoped he was happy where he was. He replied that he was, at that time; that, at first, he had passed through Purgatory, and had undergone a brief purification; but that, when this was ended, he had been taken to the enjoyment of the bliss of God in heaven. He remained talking to her some little time longer, then he bade her farewell, and disappeared. The woman applied to a Catholic priest for instruction; and it was found that, although she had never in her life read a Catholic book, nor conversed about the Catholic religion with any one, she had acquired a complete knowledge of the doctrine of Purgatory from that short interview with her husband. She, too, became a Catholic. The author was told this story by one who was a member of the community of Ampleforth at the time. A missionary priest at B---- (in England), a very few years ago, promised to say Mass for a woman in his congregation who had died. Among other engagements of the same kind, he unconsciously overlooked her claim upon him. By and by her husband came to him, and begged him to remember his promise. The missionary thought that he had already done so. "Oh! no, sir," the man replied; "I can assure you that you have not; my poor wife has been to me to tell me so, and to get you to do this act of charity for her." The priest was satisfied of his omission, and immediately supplied it. Soon after, the poor man returned to thank him, at the woman's desire. She had told her husband that now she was perfectly happy in heaven; her face, which had appeared much disfigured at her first visit, was surrounded with a halo of light when she came again. This anecdote reached the author through a common friend of his own and of the missionary. A similar anecdote is told of a nun in the English convent of Bruges, between thirty and forty years ago. A relation of Canon Schmidt had died in the house, and Miss L----, another nun, much attached to her, saw her friend one night in a dream. She seemed to come with a serious countenance, and pointed to the Office for the Dead in an office-book, which she appeared to hold in her hand. Her friend was much perplexed, and consulted Miss N----, a third nun, who suggested that perhaps Miss L---- had not said the Office three times, as usual, for her deceased sister. Miss L---- was nearly sure that she had; but as she had a habit of marking off this obligation as it was discharged, it could be easily ascertained. On examining her private note-book, it turned out that she had not said the three Offices. Miss N----'s sister, who was educated in the same convent, told the author this little story, and afterwards was good enough to revise his narrative of it. So that this account is virtually her own. Though seeming to have passed through two channels on its way to this book, that is, through the author's memory and his friend's, yet having, submitted to the latter a written memorandum of the narrative, and received and adopted his friend's corrections, the story is as authentic as if it had passed through only one intermediate channel. For there is no doubt that the value of a story diminishes rapidly with every additional hand through which it passes.-- _Footsteps of Spirits_, 113-14. A TRUE STORY OF THE "DE PROFUNDIS." One evening in the month of July, 184--, a happy group were gathered in the wide porch of a well-known mansion in Prince George's County, Maryland. A little Catholic church had been recently built in the village of L---- by the zealous and wealthy proprietor of "Monticello," and as the means of the newly-formed congregation were too limited to support a resident pastor, one of the Reverend Fathers from Georgetown kindly came out once a fortnight to celebrate Mass and administer the Sacraments. On the eve of the favored Sunday, Doctor J---- took his carriage to the railway station and brought back the Reverend Father named for that week's services; and his visit was always looked for with delight by all the household at Monticello, domestics and children, but by none so much as by three recent converts to our holy faith, who often took occasion to propound to their amiable and learned guest any doubts on religious questions that had arisen during the course of the intervening weeks. On the evening above mentioned, the priest who came was an Italian Jesuit, the Reverend Father G----. He held his little audience entranced with a fund of edifying stories and interesting replies to the questions asked. The calm serenity of the night, the gentle, refreshing breeze that came from a neighboring wood of pine-trees, the beautiful glitter of the flitting glow-worm, and the rich perfume wafted from the purple magnolia _grandiflora_--all added to the enchantment. The doctor broke the charm by saying: "Reverend Father, we shall be obliged to leave early to-morrow morning. The carriage will be ready for you at 6 o'clock." "Is it a long drive to the church?" asked Father G----. "No; only four miles," answered the doctor; "but there will be many confessions to hear and, perhaps, some baptisms to administer; hence, unless the work is begun early, Mass will not be over before 12 o'clock." "I hope, then," replied the Father, smiling, "that you will not fail to awake betimes." "As to that," rejoined the doctor, "when I have to arise at any particular time, I recite a _De Profundis_ for the relief of the suffering souls, and I am sure of awaking promptly at he right hour." "I can easily credit that," said Father G----. "It is a pious practice which was recommended to me by the late Dr. Ryder, of Georgetown, when I was at the College," said the host; "and I have never found that any one to whom I taught the practice failed to find it truly efficacious." "If it would not detain you too long beyond your customary hours," said Father G----, "I would add to my long list of anecdotes one more on the _De Profundis_." All present besought the priest to favor them; in truth, the worthy household never wearied of pious conversation. "It happened," began the good priest, with religious modesty, "that about twenty years ago I accompanied a number of prominent members of our Society who had been summoned to the Mother House, in Rome, on business of importance. The Fathers carried with them precious documents from their several provinces; and, besides the purse necessary to meet their current travelling expenses, certain contributions from churches as Peter's Pence, and donations for the General of the Society. Our way lay across the Apennines, and we were numerous enough to fill a large coach. We knew that the fastnesses of the mountains were infested by outlawed bands, and we had been careful to select an honest driver. Before setting out, it was agreed that we should place ourselves under the protection of the Holy Souls by reciting a _De Profundis_ every hour. At a given signal, mental or vocal prayer, reading or recreation, would be suspended, and the psalm recited in unison. "Luigi, the driver, had been instructed, in case of any apparent danger, to make three distinct taps on the roof of our vehicle with the heavy end of his whip. We travelled the whole day undisturbed, without other interruptions than those called for by the observance of our itinerary. Just as the evening twilight began, we reached the summit of a lofty mountain. The air was cool, the scenery wild and majestic, and each of us seemed absorbed in the pleasant glimpses of the receding landscapes, when we were startled by three ominous knocks on the roof of our coach. Before we could ask any questions, Luigi had given his horses such blows as nearly made them throw us out of the vehicle, and sent the animals running at a break-neck speed. We looked, we listened, and, to our amazement and horror, beheld about a dozen bandits on either side of the road, with arms uplifted, and holding deadly weapons, as if ready and determined to strike with well-aimed precision. But, strange to say, they all remained as motionless as statues, until we had gone on so far as to leave them a mere speck on the descending horizon. "Each one of our party had kept exterior silence, but inwardly put his trust in the Most High. At last, Luigi halted. His horses were white with foam, and panting as if they would never breathe naturally again. "A miracle!" cried Luigi, signing himself with the mystic Sign; "may God and Our Lady be praised! I tell you, Fathers, it is a miracle that we are not dead men!" "'Indeed, a very special protection of Divine Providence said the superior _pro tem_.; 'and we must all thank God with our whole hearts.' "'I tell you,' broke in Luigi, 'those were horrible men; I never saw any look fiercer.' "'Then, as soon as your horses are able, we had better move on. Shall you be obliged to change them before we get to our proposed stopping- place?' asked the superior. "'Oh, we must not stop to change! we should be tracked by some of their spies. We had better go on; and, as the road descends gently, I think this team will make the remainder of the route.' "'Well,' said our superior, as we re-entered the coach, 'we must all offer a Mass in thanksgiving to-morrow;' to which we all heartily assented, and found subject for conversation the rest of the way in recalling the particulars of our wondrous escape. "Holy obedience afterwards stationed me," continued the Reverend Father, "at the Gesú. About two years later, I was called upon to instruct a prisoner condemned to capital punishment. 'He appears to have been a desperate man,' said the jailer, as he drew aside the enormous bolts of iron that held fast the door of a corridor leading to a dismal dungeon; 'now, however, he is a little subdued; he even seems contrite at times, and I hope he will die penitent.' "I visited the prisoner several times; he was always glad to see me, but it cost him a great effort to open his heart, and make a full confession. His birth and parentage, and advantages for a liberal education, should have brought him to a widely-different destiny. He had loved adventure naturally, but had taken a wrong direction. He might have become a famous military man, whereas he was only a rough, desperate highwayman. To win him to God, I began to listen to narratives of his wild brigand exploits. I affected to be interested in these daring adventures, and then succeeded in pointing out to him the sin that abounded in each and every act. One day, as he was speaking of the latest years of his life, I was greatly surprised to hear him recount the identical incident with which I began my story. He described to me in the most graphic terms the wonderful manner in which his hands and those of his comrades had been held by an invisible, irresistible power, saying that they had returned to their mountain haunts perfectly dismayed; that some of them appeared to have a vague and conscientious alarm, though revelry and song soon banished such misgivings. He told me that they knew the carriage was full of Jesuit priests, and that they had been promised a great pecuniary reward by a prominent member of the Freemason Society if they should succeed in seizing our luggage. "I then made known to my penitent my share in that providential escape; he at once fell on his knees, wept long and bitterly, and finally asked my forgiveness. I prepared him for his dreadful end, and believe he died at peace with God, so great is the mercy of Jesus to the contrite soul, 'even though his sins be as scarlet.' I asked his permission to narrate the particulars of his portion of the story, and he gladly gave it, hoping to merit something for his sin-burdened soul by that act of humility." We were all much impressed by the Reverend Father's narrative, and as we bade one another good-night, the doctor remarked that a kind deed performed for others was sure to merit a blessing in return, even though it were so small a favor as that gained by his favorite practice of saying the _De Profundis_. "Yes," said Father G----, "charity never fails."--_Ave Maria_, Nov. 24th, 1883. CONFIDENCE REWARDED. The following fact took place in Montreal, Canada, some three or four years since. We shall leave the zealous member of our association who related it to us to tell his own story: "One morning," said he, "coming back from Mass, I saw Mr. C----, who was also coming out of the church. He was a worthy man, fearing God and fulfilling his duties faithfully and conscientiously. I said to myself: 'There is a man who deserves to belong to our association.' For is it not always a favor when God deems us worthy to do something for Him? "I approached and asked him if he would not like to become a member of our association. 'What association?' 'The Association of the Way of the Cross and Masses. It is to relieve the dead by prayer and alms, two powerful means.' 'Ah! I knew nothing of it. What has to be done?' 'It suffices to make the Way of the Cross once a week and pay for a Mass once a month.' 'I love the souls in Purgatory,' he said, 'and I do all I can to relieve them. But, you see, things are not going well with me just now. I have been a long time sick, and am hardly able yet to discharge my ordinary duties.' "At these words I cast my eyes on the speaker, and saw what I had not before noticed, that he looked pale and worn. He went on: 'As for paying anything, it would be impossible for me to do it; I have contracted debts, and if my ill health should continue,' he added, in a faltering voice, 'I shall be obliged to sell my little house.' Then he stopped, his heart evidently full, and tears in his eyes. 'But Providence watches over you, and nothing happens without God's good leave. If a single hair of our head cannot fall unless He will it, what have you to fear? Do something for God whilst you can. If you are liberal to Him, He will be more so towards you. Do you remember the promise Our Lord made to St. Gertrude? 'I will give an hundred-fold,' said He, 'for all thou shalt do for my beloved ones in Purgatory.' This promise was not for St. Gertrude alone; it was likewise for you. For one dollar that you give, you will gain ten; and if you are resolved to help the poor souls all you can, they will get you health to do it.' 'Ah! what you say touches me much, and truly I know not what to do.' After a moment's hesitation, he quickly resumed: 'Well, sir, although I am actually in distress, I am going to try; it may be the best means of getting out of it.' 'Yes, try; we run no risk when we make the Holy Souls our debtors.' "At these words, he drew from his pocket a small purse which contained only half a dollar. 'There is all my wealth, and I am happy to share it with you,' and he gave me the stipend for a Mass. 'I will perhaps put myself to some inconvenience in giving you that sum, trifling though it be; but, blessed be God! I will bear with the inconvenience, thinking that those who suffer much more than I will obtain some relief in their cruel torments. I will also pray for them, and that they may obtain for me the resignation which is so pleasing to God.' "When I saw the noble sentiments of this man, I shook him by the hand, warmly thanked him, and reminded him that God was always touched by such acts, and that He knew how to reward them. "From that moment, strange to say, that frail, delicate man began to recover his strength, work came back to his shop, and everything grew brighter around him. And, as an additional reward from Heaven, he was animated by a new zeal for the Holy Souls, for he not only paid his own little contribution regularly, but he also collected the money for as many Masses as he could on one side and another. "Six or seven months thus passed away amid ever increasing prosperity, when one day he said to me in presence of several persons: 'Last autumn, before I gave my name to the Association for the Souls in Purgatory, I was so sick and so discouraged that I thought I should die; but when I had paid for my first Mass, from that moment, as all may see, my health began to return, and with it my courage. To-day, as you see, I am perfectly well. Moreover, I have found means to pay off one hundred and fifty dollars of debt, and to have fifty dollars' worth of repairs made to my little house. How has all that been done? I know not: for you will admit that, by a poor shoemaker such as I, who works at his bench and without even an apprentice, after such a hard winter, and without any advance before me, to find means, despite all that, to provide for the support of his family and pay two hundred dollars over and above, is something extraordinary. "'But I know well to whom I owe it all; hence,' he added, with a smile, 'that has given me new zeal. Now, I work not only for myself; every evening I go out collecting for our good Souls in Purgatory, and, blessed be God! I have got one hundred and fifty dollars for the Association of Masses. Have I not, sir?' he added, addressing the treasurer, who was present. "'Yes, you have, indeed, collected one hundred and fifty dollars, perhaps something more, by twenty-five cents here and twenty-five cents there, with a perseverance and a zeal beyond all praise, and well deserving of the favors you have received.' "'Ah!' said this worthy man, so admirable in his simplicity and the fervor of his conviction, 'it is that I still desire something; I now expect that they will make me better,' and he sighed. "Thus was this good man rewarded for his confidence in the Souls in Purgatory, and such was his gratitude to them."--_Almanac of the Souls in Purgatory, 1877_. ANECDOTE OF THE "DE PROFUNDIS." I once heard an anecdote of a good priest who was in the habit of saying the De Profundis every day for the Souls in Purgatory, but, happening one day to omit it, either through inadvertence or press of occupation, he was passing through a cemetery about the close of day, when he suddenly heard, through the hushed silence of the lonely place and the solemn evening's hour, a mournful voice repeating the first words of the beautiful psalm--_De Profundis clamavit Domini_--then it stopped, but the priest, as soon as he had recovered from the first shock, and remembering with bitter self-reproach his omission, took up the words where the supernatural voice had left off, and finished the recitation of the _De Profundis_, resolving, as he did so, that, for the time to come, nothing should prevent him from reciting it every day, and more than once in the day, for the benefit of the dear suffering Souls. A STRANGE OCCURRENCE IN A PERSIAN PRISON. There is a very strange story concerning Purgatory related by St. John the Almoner, Patriarch of Alexandria, in the end of the sixth and the beginning of the seventh century. A little before a great mortality which took place in that city, several inhabitants of the Island of Cyprus were carried off to Persia and cast into a prison so severe that it was called the _Oblivion_. Some of them, however, succeeded in making their escape and returned to their own country. A father and mother, whose son had been carried off with the others, asked them for tidings of their son. "Alas!" said they, "your son died on such a day; we ourselves had the sad consolation of giving him burial." The poor parents hastened then to have a solemn service performed for the repose of his soul; this they had done three times every year, continuing in prayer for the same intention. But, marvellous to relate! one day this son, so much regretted, so fondly remembered, came knocking at their door and threw himself into their arms. He had been supposed dead for four years, yet was really alive, he whom the other prisoners had buried having had a great resemblance to him, that is all. "How! is it really thou, dear son? Oh! how we mourned for thee! Three times every year we had a solemn service for thee." "On what days?" eagerly demanded the son. "On the holy days of Christmas, Easter, and Pentecost." "Precisely!" he exclaimed; "on those very days I saw, each time, an officer radiant with light, who came to me and taking off my chains, opened the doors of my prison. I went forth into the city, walked wherever I wished, without any one appearing to notice me; only, in the evening, I always found myself miraculously chained in my dungeon. It was the fruit of your good prayers, and if I had been in Purgatory, they would have served at the same time to relieve me; I beseech you not to forget me when the good God shall see fit to call me to Himself."--_Leontius, Life of St. John the Almoner._ A SWISS PROTESTANT CONVERTED BY THE DOCTRINE OF PURGATORY. I have somewhere read, says a Catholic writer, that a Swiss Protestant was converted to the true religion solely on account of our having the consoling doctrine of Purgatory, whereas Protestants will not admit of it. He was a Lutheran somewhat advanced in age, and he had a brother who passed for a worthy man, as the world goes, but had also the misfortune of being a Protestant. He fell sick, and notwithstanding the care of several physicians, died, and was buried by a Protestant minister of Berne. His death was a terrible blow to the brother of whom I speak. Hoping to dissipate his grief he tried travelling, but the thought of his brother's eternal destiny pursued him everywhere. He one day, on board a steamer, made the acquaintance of a Catholic priest, with whom he entered into conversation. Confidence was soon established between them; they spoke of death, and the afflicted traveller asked the priest what he thought of it. "What I think is this," replied the priest: "When a man has perfectly discharged all his duties to God, his neighbor and himself, he goes straight to heaven; if he have not discharged them, or have neglected any of those which are essential, he goes straight to hell; but if he have only to reproach himself with those trifling faults which are inseparable from our frail nature, he spends some time in Purgatory." At these words the listener smiled with evident relief and satisfaction; he felt consoled. "Sir," cried he, "I will become a Catholic, and for this reason: Protestants only admit of heaven and hell; but, in order to get to Paradise, one must have nothing wherewith to reproach himself. Now, although my brother was a good man, he was by no means free from those slight faults of which you spoke just now. He will not be damned for these faults, but they will prevent him from going to heaven; there must, therefore, be an intermediate place wherein to expiate them; hence, there must be a Purgatory. I will be a Catholic, so as to have the consolation of praying for my brother."--_The Catechism in Examples_, pp. 141-2. THE DEAD HAND. SISTER TERESA MARGARET GESTA was struck by apoplexy on the 4th of November, 1859, without any premonitory symptoms to forewarn her of her danger; and, without recovering consciousness, she breathed her last at four o'clock in the afternoon of the same day. Her companions were plunged into the deepest sorrow, for the Sister was a general favorite; but they resigned themselves to the will of God. Whilst lamenting the death of one who had been to them a model, comforter, and mother, they consoled themselves by the remembrance of the virtues of which she was a splendid example, and of which they never tired speaking. Twelve days had passed since her death. Some of the Sisters felt a certain kind of dread of going alone to the places frequented by the departed one; but Sister Anna Felix Menghini, a person of a lively and pleasant disposition, often rallied them, good-humoredly, on their fears. About ten o'clock in the forenoon, this same Sister Anna, having charge of the clothing, was proceeding to the work-room. Having gone up- stairs, she heard a mournful voice, which at first she thought might be that of a cat shut up in the clothes-press. She opened and examined it carefully, but found nothing. A sudden and unaccountable feeling of terror came over her, and she cried out: "Jesus, Mary, what can it be?" She had hardly uttered these words when she heard the same mournful voice as at first, which exclaimed in a gasping sob: "O my God, how I suffer!" The religious, though surprised and trembling, recognized distinctly the voice of Sister Teresa; she plucked up courage and asked her "Why?" "On account of poverty," answered the voice. "What!" replied Sister Anna, "and you were so poor!" "Not for me," was answered, "but for the nuns.... If one is enough, why two? and if two are sufficient, why three?... And you--beware for yourself." At the same time the whole room was darkened by a thick smoke, and the shadow of Sister Teresa, moving towards the exit, went up the steps, talking as it moved. Sister Anna was so frightened that she could not make out what the spirit said. Having reached the door, the apparition spoke again: "This is a mercy of God!" And in proof of the reality, with its open hand it struck the upper panel of the door near the frame, leaving the impression of the hand more perfect than it could have been made by the most skillful artist with a hot iron. Sister Anna was like Balthasar: "Then was the King's countenance changed, and his thoughts troubled him; and the joints of his loins were loosed, and his knees struck one against the other." (Dan., v. 6). She could not stir for a considerable time; she did not even dare to turn her head. But at last she tottered out and called one of her companions, who, hearing her feeble, broken words, ran to her with another Sister; and presently the whole community was gathered round in alarm. They learned in a confused manner what had taken place, perceived the smell of burnt wood, and noticed a whitish cloud or mist that filled the room and made it almost dark. They examined the door carefully though tremblingly, and recognized the fac-simile of Sister Teresa's hand; and, filled with terror, they fled to the choir. There the Sisters, forgetting the need of food and rest, remained in prayer till after sunset, abandoning everything in their anxiety to procure relief for their beloved Sister Teresa. The zealous Minorite Fathers, who have the spiritual direction of the convent, learning what had happened, were equally earnest in offering prayers and sacrifice, and in singing the psalms for the dead. Many of the faithful likewise assembling, not through idle curiosity, but out of genuine piety, joined in the recitation of the Rosary and other prayers, though the deceased Sister was almost entirely unknown to the people. Her observance of the rule was very strict, and she scrupulously avoided all intercourse with people outside her convent. But still large numbers crowded to join in those devotions for her. Sister Anna, who was more worn out by excitement than the other religious, was directed to retire early the following night. She herself confesses that she was fully resolved next day to remove, at any cost, the obnoxious marks of the hand. But Sister Teresa appeared to her in a dream, saying: "You intend to remove the sign which I have left. Know that it is not in your power to do so, even with the aid of others; for it is there by the command of God, for the instruction of the people. By His just and inexorable judgment I was condemned to the dreadful fires of Purgatory for forty years on account of my condescension to the will of some of the nuns. I thank you and those who joined in so many prayers to the Lord for me; all of which He was pleased in His mercy to accept as suffrages for me, and especially the Seven Penitential Psalms, which were such a relief!" And then, with a smiling countenance, she added: "Oh! blessed rags, that are rewarded with such rich garments! Oh! happy poverty, that brings such glory to those who truly observe it! Alas! how many suffer irreparable loss, and are in torments, because, under the cloak of necessity, poverty is known and valued by few!" Finally, Sister Anna, lying down as usual on the night of the 19th, heard her name distinctly pronounced by Sister Teresa. She awoke, all in a tremor, and sat up, unable to answer. Her astonishment was great when, near the foot of the bed, she saw a globe of light that made the cell as bright as noonday, and she heard the spirit say in a joyful voice: "On the day of the Passion I died (on Friday), and on the day of the Passion I go to glory.... Strength in the Cross!... Courage to suffer!..." Then, saying three times "Adieu!" the globe was transformed into a thin, white, shining cloud, rose towards heaven, and disappeared. The zealous Bishop of the diocese having heard of these events, instituted the process of examination on the 23d of the same month. The grave was opened in presence of a large number of persons assembled for the occasion; the impression of the hand on the door was compared with the hand of the dead, and both were found to correspond exactly. The door itself was set apart in a safe place and guarded. Many persons being anxious to see the impression, it was allowed to be visited, after a certain lapse of time, and with due precautions, by such as had secured the necessary permission.--_Ave Maria_, Nov. 17, 1883. A BEAUTIFUL EXAMPLE. The following fact is related by the Treasurer of the Association for the Souls in Purgatory. He himself was personally cognizant of the circumstances of the case. We leave him to speak: "Mr.----," said he, "was one of our first and most fervent associates. His devotedness for good works is well known, so that he is everywhere regarded as an acquisition in all pious enterprises. His exemplary conduct rendered him, moreover, one of the most precious auxiliaries of the work. Hence his zeal, instead of slackening, did but go on increasing; and whereas, in the beginning, his collection amounted only to some dollars, after a while he often brought me forty or fifty dollars for the suffering souls. May Heaven bless that fervent associate, and may his example serve as a lesson to the indifferent! "During eighteen months, or two years, this pious and zealous member brought me every six months,--with other moneys,--the sum of fifteen dollars which was thus periodically sent him; and each time that I asked him whence this money came, he answered that he knew nothing of it himself; that it was sent him by a worthy man without further information, and so he brought it to me without asking, or knowing anything more. "Desirous of getting to the bottom of this mystery, I resolved to try and find out what it meant. I, one day, asked Mr.----. to tell me the name of this generous protector of the poor souls, for I was going to hunt him up.--'Oh!' said he, 'it is Such-a-one; he lives a long way off, towards Hochelaga, [1] but, indeed, I cannot tell you the exact place.' [Footnote 1: A suburban town or village of Montreal, situated, like the city, on the banks of the St. Lawrence.] "Such vague information embarrassed me no little. I, nevertheless, took the City Directory, but, alas! there were fully twenty-five persons of the same name. Resolved, however, to put an end to this uncertainty, I proceeded, with the little information I had, to the place indicated to me; I arrive at a house bearing the name of the new benefactor of our work. I go in at a venture; it was a little shoe-store, scarcely fifteen feet square, somewhat gloomy and not over-clean, owing, probably, to the nature of the business carried on there; the whole appearance of the place was, indeed, very unlike one where much money could be made. Going in, I perceived sitting in the farther end of the store, a man whose face was so expressive of goodness, so open and so calm, that only a good conscience could leave so gracious an imprint on the features, and I said to myself: 'That is he.'--Then I asked aloud: 'You are Mr. Such-a-one?'--That is my name,' he answered, with a pleasant smile.--'But is it you who has sent us every six months for two years, the sum of fifteen dollars,--thirty dollars a year,--for the Souls in Purgatory, apart from your regular contribution?'--'Yes,' said he, quietly, and still with the same smile on his lips.--'Ah!' said I, 'we are very grateful to you, and the Holy Souls will surely be mindful of you. I suppose you have a great compassion for those poor souls who suffer so much, and that that inspires you with zeal, and so you make up this sum amongst your friends and neighbors;--or they, perhaps, bring it to your house, quarter by quarter, as is done elsewhere?'--'No!' said he, still very quietly, 'no, it is my own little share.'--'How! your own little share?' and instinctively I cast a glance around the little store, which seemed hardly to justify the giving of such a sum. 'How! your little share? but we find it a very large and generous one, and we are happy that your zeal and charity make it seem to you so small. Heaven will bless you for it. Still there must be something hidden under these gifts, so often repeated; the Holy Souls must have done you some favor. Please tell me, then, what induces you to give so handsome a sum every year, without being asked?' "'Well, I will not conceal from you that the Souls in Purgatory have visibly protected me; and to make known to you, in a few words, all my little history, I must tell you that, two or three years ago, I heard people speak so favorably of the Association for the Souls in Purgatory--I heard so much about it, indeed, that from that day forward, I placed all my little business under the care of the Suffering Souls, and ever since, I am happy to tell you, to the credit of those holy Souls, that my affairs go, as if they were on wheels!" (These are his own words.) "I give my thirty-three dollars a year without any injury to myself; on the contrary, all goes the better for it. My store is not much to look at, but it is well filled, and all that is in it is my own. Apart from that, and what is still better, I have not a penny of debt.' "He then added, in a lower tone: 'I have, moreover, the happiness of honoring in that way the thirty-three years of labors and sufferings which Our Divine Lord spent on earth. That thought does my poor heart good. "'Ah, sir,' said he, with an impulse of true faith which made my heart thrill--'Ah, sir, if men believed more, they would do wonders, and the word of Our Lord never fails, and He has said that the more one gives the more they receive, for charity never makes any one poor; only we must give without distrust, and without speculation.' "I warmly shook hands with this admirable man, and returned home as charmed with my visit as delighted with so much faith. Then I said to myself: 'There is a fine example to follow. How many others might have no debts, if they knew how to make sacrifices for the dear Suffering Souls!'"_--Almanac of the Souls in Purgatory, 1877_ HOW TO PAY ONE'S DEBTS. Speaking just now of that generous man who had no debts, we called to mind an example that teaches a pretty way of paying debts. We are about to furnish the receipt, so that no one may complain, giving to each the chance of making use of it. In divulging this secret we shall certainly pass for the least selfish man in the world; for, to furnish every one with the means of paying their debts, is it not to procure for each the opportunity of enriching himself? But, dear reader, laying aside all thanks, hasten only to profit by the receipt, and we shall, each of us, have obtained our object. We take this secret from the Chronicles of the good Friars Minors, an authority to which no one can take exception. The Blessed Berthold belonged to the great Franciscan family. His fine talents and rare virtues had caused him to be appointed a preacher of the Order. The Sovereign Pontiff, seeing all the good that Berthold was destined to do by his eloquent sermons, had given him power to grant to each of his hearers, an indulgence of ten days; which was a great privilege for the faithful, as well as a mark of esteem and distinction for himself. Friar Berthold, then, had preached a most moving sermon on alms-giving, and had granted the ten days' indulgence to all who were present. Amongst the audience was a lady of quality who, owing to a reverse of fortune, was in great distress and loaded with debt. She had hitherto been content to suffer in silence, being prevented by a false shame from making her condition known; but overcome by the enthusiastic charity of the good father, she went privately to him to explain how she was situated, giving him thus an opportunity of putting in practice what he had so eloquently preached. But Friar Berthold, who, like his father St. Francis, had chosen poverty for his lady and mistress, could not come to her relief. Nevertheless, as poverty, in the man who suffers and endures it voluntarily for the love of God, becomes strength and even riches, Berthold, strong in his sacrifice and rich in his poverty--Berthold, inspired by the Holy Ghost, repeated to her what Peter of old, inspired by God, said to the lame man at the gate of the Temple who had asked him for alms: "Silver and gold have I none, but that which I have I will give unto thee." He then assured the lady that she had gained ten days' indulgence by being present at his preaching, and he added: "Go to such a banker in the city. Hitherto he has busied himself much more about temporal riches than spiritual treasures, but offer him in return for the donation he will give you, to make over to him the merit of this indulgence, so that the pains awaiting him in Purgatory may be diminished. I have every reason to think," continued the good Father, "that he will give you some assistance." The poor woman, full of that faith which is so powerful, went as she was told, in all simplicity. God touched the heart of the rich man, who received her kindly. He asked her how much she expected to receive in exchange for her ten days' indulgence. Feeling herself animated by an interior strength, she replied: "As much as it weighs in the balance." --"Well!" said the banker, "here is the balance. Write down your ten days' indulgence, and put the paper in one scale; I will place a piece of money in the other." O prodigy! the scale with the paper in it does not rise, but the other does. The banker, much amazed, puts in another piece of money, but the weight is not changed; he puts in another, then another; but the result is still the same, the paper on which the indulgence is written is still the heaviest. The Banker puts down then five, ten, thirty pieces, till there was as much as the whole amount which the lady required for her present needs. Then only did the two scales become equal. The banker, struck with astonishment, saw in this marvel a precious lesson for him; he was at length made sensible of the value of the things of heaven. The poor Souls understand it still better, as, for the slightest earthly indulgence they would give all the gold in the world. You, then, who have no money to give for the Souls in Purgatory--you, too, who have financial difficulties on your shoulders, offer up indulgences for the poor Souls, and they will make themselves your bankers; they will pay you double, nay, a hundred-fold for whatever you have put in the scale of the balance of mercy. They will pay you not only in spiritual treasures, but even in temporal wealth, which will procure for you the double advantage of paying your debts here below, and those of the other world.--_Almanac of the Souls in Purgatory_, 1877. FAITH REWARDED. "One day, in the month of July," relates a zelator of the Association, [1] "I met one of our members. He was a man of an amiable disposition, and remarkable for his piety and his devotion to good works. He was a merchant of good standing, engaged in a respectable business. Like many others, however, he had seen bad days; and to the commonplace question, 'How goes business?' he replied: 'Ah! badly enough; I can hardly pay expenses, and I am doubly unfortunate. I had a house which brought me in two or three hundred dollars a year, and I have had the misfortune of being unable to rent it this year, so that, losing on all sides, I find myself a good deal embarrassed.'--'Will you allow me,' said I, 'to give you a little advice? Promise some Masses for the Souls in Purgatory in case you have the good fortune to rent your house. It will be, as it were, the tithe of your rent. We too often forget that we owe to Our Lord a part of what He gives us so freely. It is, nevertheless, only an offering that we make Him of His own goods; and, at the same time, an act of gratitude for that He has deigned to give it to us. Furthermore, it is an act of homage, an acknowledgment of His supremacy. And we shall derive the more profit from it according as we do it with a good heart. Besides all that, you have the additional happiness of assisting your relatives and friends who are suffering in the flames of Purgatory.' [Footnote 1: For the Relief of the Souls in Purgatory.] "This little exhortation seemed to strike him to whom it was addressed, and, as if awaking from a long lethargy, he suddenly said: 'Why did I not think of that before? I promise,' added he, 'five dollars for the Souls in Purgatory, if I find a tenant.' "This eagerness to do good, this species of regret for not having done it sooner, this pious disposition which makes us desire to relieve those who are in affliction, must have been very pleasing to God, for, within the week, the gentleman came to me with his five dollars, and said, smiling: 'I lose no time, you see, in keeping my promise.'--'Why, have you already rented your house?'--'Yes, a manufacturer from the country who had just had the misfortune of being burned out, saw my house by chance, came to ask my terms, and we agreed at once. He is to take possession next week.' "A week passed, even a month, then two, and no tenant, when I happened again to meet my friend, whom I almost suspected of having forgotten his promise. 'Ah!' said he, 'I am worse off than ever, and I was so sure of having rented my house.'--' How! did that person not come back, then?'--' No, and I thought him such an honest man! The disappointment has been a great loss to me.'--'Write to him, then, threatening to make him responsible for the whole rent. But, better than that, wait still, and have confidence; the Holy Souls cannot fail to bring the matter to a favorable issue. It is, perhaps, a want of faith on your part which has delayed the fulfillment of the contract.' "Three days had scarcely passed when I again saw our Associate. 'This time,' said he, 'I come to pay; my tenant has arrived.'--'But he has made you lose five or six weeks' rent.'--'Not so; he is, just as I thought, an honorable, upright man. He arrived two days ago. It was I that hired your house,' said he, 'and I come to take possession of it.'--'Mr.----,' said I, 'I am very glad, but I expected you sooner.'-- 'It is true I was to have come before now, but was prevented from doing so by important business. How long is it since I rented your house?'-- 'Just nine weeks.'--'It is only right, then, that I should pay you for the time I have made you lose;' then handing me a sum of money, 'there,' said he, 'is the amount coming to you; and now, my family arrive to-morrow, so we take possession at once of your house, and your rent shall be paid regularly.' "So there is an end to my anxiety, and you cannot believe how happy I am in bringing you the trifling sum I promised; but while keeping my promise, I thank you very sincerely for the confidence wherewith you inspired me in the Holy Souls. May God bless you for it!"--_Almanac of the Souls in Purgatory_, 1881. APPARITION OF A CITIZEN OF ARIES. LECOYER, in his "Tales of Ghosts and Apparitions," [1] relates a historical occurrence which had great publicity. In the reign of King Charles IV. of France, surnamed the Fair, the last king of the first branch of the Capets, who died in 1323, the soul of a citizen, some years dead and abandoned by his relations, who neglected to pray for him, appeared suddenly in the public square at Aries, relating marvellous things of the other world, and asking for help. Those who had seen him in his lifetime at once recognized him. The Prior of the Jacobins, a man of saintly life, being told of this apparition, hastened to go and see the soul. Supposing at first that it might be a spirit that had taken the form of this citizen, he took, with lighted tapers, a consecrated host, which he held out to it. But the soul immediately showed that it was really there itself, for it prostrated itself and adored Our Lord, asking naught else but prayers which might deliver it from Purgatory, to the end that it might enter purified into heaven. [Footnote 1: "Histoires des Spectres et des Apparitions."] THE COUNTESS OF STRAFFORD. The Countess of Strafford, before her conversion to the Catholic faith, went often to see Monseigneur de la Mothe, Bishop of Amiens, and her conversations with him always made the deepest impression on her mind. But what touched her more than all was a sermon which he preached on the feast of St. John the Baptist, in the chapel of the Ursulines in Amiens. After hearing this discourse, she felt within her a lively desire to believe as did the preacher who had so much edified her. She still had some doubts, however, on the Sacrifice of the Mass and Purgatory. She went to propose them to the holy Bishop, who, without disputing with her or openly attacking her prejudices, deemed it his duty to speak thus to her, in order to undeceive her: "Madam, you know the Bishop of London and have confidence in him? Well, I beg you to ask him what I am going to tell you: The Bishop of Amiens has told me a thing that surprised me; he says that if you can deny that St. Augustine said Mass and prayed for the dead, and particularly for his mother, he himself will become a Protestant." This advice was followed. The Bishop of London made no reply, but contented himself with saying to the bearer of the letter that Lady Strafford had been breathing a contagious atmosphere which had carried her away, and that anything he could write to her would probably not remedy the evil. This silence on the part of a man whom she had trusted implicitly, finished opening the eyes of Lady Strafford, and she soon after made her abjuration at the hands of the Bishop of Amiens.--_Vie de Monsgr. de la Mothe._ THE MARQUIS BE CIVRAC. _(From une Commune Vendéenne.)_ The belief that the living friends may be of use to their friends in the grave, has in it I know not what instructive and natural which one meets in hearts the most simple and unsophisticated. A pious peasant woman of La Vendée kneeling on the coffin of her good master, the Marquis de Civrac, cried out: "O my God, repay to him all the good he has done to us!" Does not this fervent cry of grateful affection signify: "My God, some rays are perchance wanting in the crown of our benefactor; supply them, we beseech Thee, in consideration of our prayer and all he has done for us?" and this is precisely the consoling doctrine of Purgatory. GRATITUDE OF THE HOLY SOULS. [Rev. James Mumford, S.J., born in England in 1605, and who labored for forty years for the cause of the Catholic Church in his native country, wrote a remarkable work on Purgatory; and he mentions that the following incident was written to him by William Freysson, a publisher, of Cologne. May it move many in their difficulties to have recourse to the Holy Souls.] One festival day, when my place of business was closed, I was occupying myself in reading a book which you had lent me, and which was on "The Souls in Purgatory." I was absorbed in my subject when a messenger came and told me that my youngest child, aged four years, showed the first symptoms of a very grave disease. The child rapidly grew worse, and the physicians at length declared that there was no hope. The thought then occurred to me that perhaps I could save my child by making a vow to assist the Suffering Souls in Purgatory. I accordingly repaired at once to a chapel, and, with all fervor, supplicated God to have pity on me; and I vowed I would distribute gratuitously a hundred copies of the book that had moved me in behalf of the suffering souls, and give them to ecclesiastics and to religious to increase devotion to the Holy Souls. I had, I acknowledge, hardly any hope. As soon as I returned to the house I found the child much better. He asked for food, although for several days he had not been able to swallow anything but liquids. The next day he was perfectly well, got up, went out for a walk, and ate as if he had never had anything the matter with him. Filled with gratitude, I was only anxious to fulfill my promise. I went to the College of the Jesuit Fathers and begged them to accept as many copies of the work as they pleased, and to distribute them amongst themselves and other communities and ecclesiastics as they thought fit, so that the suffering souls, my benefactors, should be assisted by further prayers. Three weeks had not slipped away, however, when another accident not less serious befell me. My wife, on entering the house one day, was suddenly seized with a trembling in all her limbs, which threw her to the ground, and she remained insensible. Little by little the illness increased, until she was deprived of the power of speech. Remedies seemed to be in vain. The malady at length assumed such aggravated proportions that every one was of opinion she had no chance of recovery. The priest who assisted her had already addressed words of consolation to me, exhorting me to Christian resignation. I turned again with confidence to the souls in Purgatory, who had assisted me once before, and I went to the same church. There, prostrate before the Blessed Sacrament, I renewed my supplication with all the ardor with which affection for my family inspired me. "O my God!" I exclaimed, "Thy mercy is not exhausted: in the name of Thy infinite bounty, do not permit that the recovery of my son should be paid by the death of his mother." I made a vow this time, to distribute two hundred copies of the holy book, in order that a greater number of persons might be moved to intercede for the suffering souls. I besought those who had already been delivered from Purgatory to unite with me on this occasion. After this prayer, as I was returning to the house, I saw my servants running towards me. They told me with delight that my wife had undergone a great change for the better; that the delirium had ceased, and she had recovered her power of speech. I at once ran on to assure myself of the fact: all was true. Very soon my wife was so perfectly recovered that she came with me into the holy place to make an act of thanksgiving to God for all His mercies.--_Ave Maria_. A STRANGE INCIDENT. A young German lady of rank, still alive to tell the story, arriving with her friends at one of the most noted hotels in Paris, an apartment of unusual magnificence on the first floor was apportioned to her use. After retiring to rest she lay awake a long while, contemplating, by the dim light of a night-lamp, the costly ornaments in the room, when suddenly the folding-doors opposite the bed, which she had locked, were thrown open, and, amid a flood of unearthly light, there entered a young man in the garb of the French navy, having his hair dressed in the peculiar mode _à la Titus_. Taking a chair and placing it in the middle of the room, he sat down, and drew from his pocket a pistol of an uncommon make, which he deliberately put to his forehead, fired, and fell back as if dead. At the moment of the explosion the room became dark and still, and a low voice said softly: "Say an _Ave Maria_ for his soul." The young lady, though not insensible, became paralyzed with horror, and remained in a kind of cataleptic trance, fully conscious, but unable to move or speak, until, at nine o'clock next day, no answer having been given to repeated calls of her maid, the doors were forced open. At the same moment the power of speech returned, and the poor young lady shrieked out to her attendants that a man had shot himself in the night, and was lying dead on the floor. Nothing, however, was to be seen, and they concluded that she was suffering from the effects of a dream. Not being a Catholic, she could not, of course, understand the meaning of the mysterious command. A short time afterwards, however, the proprietor of the hotel informed a gentleman of the party that the terrible scene witnessed by the young lady had in reality been enacted only three nights previously in that very room, when a young French officer put an end to his life with a pistol of a peculiar description, which, together with the body, was then lying at the Morgue awaiting identification. The gentleman examined them both, and found them to correspond exactly with the description of the man and the pistol seen in the apparition. Whether the young officer was insane, or lived long enough to repent of his crime, is not known; however, the then Archbishop of Paris, Monseigneur Sibour, was exceedingly impressed by the incident. He called upon the young lady, and directing her attention to the words spoken by the mysterious voice, urged her to embrace the Catholic faith, to whose teaching it pointed so clearly.--_Ave Maria_, August 15, 1885. PART III. HISTORICAL All the ages, every clime Strike the silver harp of time, Chant the endless, holy story, Souls retained in Purgatory. Freed by Mass and holy rite, Requiem, dirge and wondrous might, A prayer which hut and palace send, Where king and serf, where lord and hireling blend. The vast cathedral and the village shrine Unite in mercy's choral strain divine. HISTORICAL. THE DOCTRINE OF PURGATORY, OR A MIDDLE STATE, AMONG THE PAGAN NATIONS OF ANTIQUITY. BY THE REV. A. A LAMBING, A.M. [This very interesting article was originally published in the "Ave Maria."] The attentive student of the mythology of the nations of antiquity cannot fail to discover many vestiges of a primitive revelation of some of the principal truths of religion, although in the lapse of time they have been so distorted and mingled with fiction that it requires careful study to sift the few remaining grains of truth from the great mass of superstition and error in which they are all but lost. Among these truths may be reckoned monotheism, or the belief in, and the worship of, one only God, which the learned Jesuit, the Rev. Aug. Thebaud, in his "Gentilism," has proved to have been the primitive belief of all nations. It may not, however, be so generally known that the doctrine of Purgatory, or a future state of purification, was also held and taught in all the religious systems in the beginning. While a knowledge of this fact cannot add anything to the grounds of our faith as Catholics, it will not be wholly without interest, and it will, besides, better enable us to give a reason for the faith that is in us. It was left to Martin Luther to found an ephemeral religious system that should deny this dogma, founded no less on revelation than on right reason; but, then, logic has never been one of the strong points of Protestants. Before turning my attention to the nations of the pagan world, I shall briefly give the Jewish belief on this point. It may not generally be known that the doctrine of a middle state is not explicitly proposed to the belief of the Jews in any of the writings of the Old Testament, although it was firmly held by the people. We depend for our knowledge of this fact mainly on the celebrated passage of the Second Book of Machabees (xii. 43-46). The occasion on which the doctrine was stated was this: Some of the soldiers of Judas Machabeus, the leader of the Jewish armies, fell in a certain battle; and when their fellow-soldiers came to bury them, they discovered secreted in the folds of their garments some parts of the spoils of one of the pagan shrines, which it was not permitted them to keep. After praying devoutly, the sacred writer goes on to say that Judas, "Making a gathering, sent twelve thousand drachms of silver to Jerusalem for sacrifices to be offered for the sins of the dead, thinking well and religiously concerning the resurrection [for if he had not hoped that they who were slain should rise again, it would have seemed superfluous and vain to pray for the dead]. And because he considered that they who had fallen asleep with godliness had great grace laid up for them. It is, therefore, a holy and wholesome thought to pray for the dead, that they may be loosed from sins." The Catholic doctrine is thus briefly laid down in the Catechism: "Purgatory is a place of punishment in the other life where some souls suffer for a time before they can go to heaven;" or, in the words of the Catechism of the Council of Trent, there is "the fire of Purgatory, in which the souls of just men are cleansed by a temporary punishment in order to be admitted into their eternal country, 'into which nothing defiled entereth.'" How far the pagan notions of a middle state harmonize with the Christian doctrine the reader will be able to determine as we proceed. I must premise by stating that almost all, if not all, the forms of paganism were two-fold, containing a popular form of religion, believed and practiced by the mass of the people, and a more recondite form that was known only to the initiated, whether this was the priestly caste, as was generally the case, or whether they were designated by some other name. It should also be observed that the forms of religion were constantly undergoing changes of greater or less importance. Nor must we lose sight of the fact that different nations embodied the same idea under different terms. The conception of the phlegmatic Norseman would be different from that of the imaginative Oriental, and the language of the refined Greek would be far other than that of the rude American savage. But yet the same truth may be found to underlie all, the outward garb alone differing. Turning first to Egypt, which is, rightly or wrongly, commonly considered the cradle of civilization, we may sum up its teaching with regard to the lot of the dead, and the middle state, in these interesting remarks of a learned author: "The continuance of the soul after its death, its judgment in another world, and its sentence according to its deserts, either to happiness or suffering, were undoubted parts both of the popular and of the more recondite religion. It was the universal belief that immediately after death the soul descended into a lower world, and was conducted to the Hall of Truth (or, 'of the Two Truths'), where it was judged in the presence of Osiris and the forty-two demons, the 'Lords of Truth' and judges of the dead. Anubis, 'the director of the weight,' brought forth a pair of scales, and, placing on one scale a figure or emblem of Truth, set on the other a vase containing the good actions of the deceased; Thoth standing by the while, with a tablet in his hand, whereon to record the result. According to the side on which the balance inclined, Osiris delivered the sentence. If the good deeds preponderated, the blessed soul was allowed to enter the 'boat of the sun,' and was conducted by good spirits to Aahlu (Elysium), to the 'pools of peace,' and the dwelling place of Osiris.... The good soul, having first been freed from its infirmities by passing through the basin of purgatorial fire, guarded by the four ape-faced genii, and then made the companion of Osiris three thousand years, returned from Amenti, re-entered its former body, rose from the dead, and lived once more a human life upon earth. This process was reiterated until a certain mystic cycle of years became complete, when finally the good and blessed attained the crowning joy of union with God, being absorbed into the Divine Essence, and thus attaining the true end and full perfection of their being." [1] [Footnote 1: "History of Ancient Egypt," George Rawlinson, Vol. I., pp. 327-329.] It may be remarked that all systems of religion which held the doctrine of metempsychosis, or the transmigration of souls, should be considered as believing in a middle state of purgation, since they maintained the necessity of the soul's further purification, after death, before it was permitted to enter into its final rest. In the ever-varying phases through which Buddhism, the religion of all South-eastern Asia, has passed in its protracted existence, it is difficult to determine with any degree of certainty, precisely what its disciples hold; but the belief in metempsychosis, which is one of its fundamental doctrines, must permit us to range it on the side of those who hold to the idea of a middle state. Certain it is, they believe that the soul, by a series of new births, becomes, in process of time, better fitted for the final state in which it is destined for ever to remain. The same may be said of the religion of the great body of the Chinese; for, although they have their law-giver Confucius, their religion at present, as far as it merits the name, appears to be no more than a certain form of Buddhism. Coming to the more western nations of Asia, we may remark that, as their religions were evidently a corruption of primitive revelation, less removed in point of time, they must, although they had already become idolatrous, have embodied the idea of a future state of purgation, notwithstanding that it is impossible to determine at this distant day, the exact nature of their doctrines. If, however, we turn from these to the doctrine of Zoroaster, our means of forming an opinion are more ample. Zoroaster, or, more correctly, Zarathustra, the founder of the Persian religion, was born, according to some accounts, in the sixth century before our era, while others claim for him an antiquity dating at least from the thirteenth century before Christ. Be that as it may--and it does not concern us to inquire into it--this much is certain: he was a firm believer in a middle state, and he transmitted the same to his followers. But, going a step further than some, he taught that the souls undergoing purification are helped by the prayers of their friends upon earth. "The Zoroastrians," says Mr. Rawlinson, "were devout believers in the immortality of the soul and a conscious future existence. They taught that immediately after death the souls of men, both good and bad, proceeded together along an appointed path, to 'the bridge of the gatherer.' This was a narrow road conducting to heaven or paradise, over which the souls of the pious alone could pass, while the wicked fell from it into the gulf below, where they found themselves in the place of punishment. The good soul was assisted across the bridge by the Angel Serosh--'the happy, well-formed, swift, tall Serosh'--who met the weary wayfarer, and sustained his steps as he effected the difficult passage. The prayers of his friends in this world were of much avail to the deceased, and greatly helped him on his journey." [1] [Footnote 1: "Ancient Monarchies." Vol. II, p 339.] With regard to the opinions held by the Greeks,--and the same may, in general terms, be applied to the Romans, whose religious views coincided more or less closely with those of their more polished neighbors,--it is difficult to form a correct idea. Not that the classic writers and philosophers have permitted the subject to sink into oblivion,--on the contrary, they have treated it at considerable length, as all classic scholars well know,--but while, on the one hand, as I remarked above, there is a difference between the popular ideas and those of the learned, there is also here a great difference of opinion between the various schools of philosophy. Not only so, but it is difficult to determine how far the philosophers themselves were in earnest in the opinions they expressed; and how far, too, we understand them. The opinions of the people, and much more, those of the learned, vary with the principal periods of Grecian and Roman history. This much, however, may be safely held, that, while they drew their origin from Central or Western Asia, their religion must, in the beginning, have been that of the countries from which they came. But truth only is immutable; error is ever changing. I shall not tax the patience of the reader by asking him to pass in review the more striking periods of the history of these famous nations, but shall content myself with giving the views of a celebrated writer on a part, at least, of the question. Speaking of the opinions held by the Greek philosophers regarding the future state of the soul, Dr. Dollinger says, "The old and universal tradition admitted, in general, that man continued to exist after death; but the Greeks of the Homeric age did not dream of a retribution appointed to all after death, or of purifying and penitential punishments. It is only some conspicuous offenders against the gods who, in Homer, are tormented in distant Erebus. In Hesiod, the earlier races of man continue to live on, sometimes as good demons, sometimes as souls of men in bliss, or as heroes; yet, though inculcating moral obligations, he does not point to a reward to be looked for beyond the grave, but only to the justice that dominates in this economy.... Plato expressly ascribes to the Orphic writers the dogma of the soul's finding herself in the body as in a sepulchre or prison, on the score of previously contracted guilt; a dogma indubitably ascending to a very high antiquity. "... It is from this source that Pindar drew, who, of the old Greeks, generally has expressed notions the most precise and minutely distinct of trial and tribulation after death, and the circuits and lustrations of the soul. He assigns the island of the blest as for the everlasting enjoyment of those who, in a triple existence in the upper and lower world, have been able to keep their souls perfectly pure from all sin. On the other hand, the souls of sinners appear after death before the judgment seat of a judge of the nether world, by whom they are sentenced to a heavy doom, and are ceaselessly dragged the world over, suffering bloody torments. But as for those whom Persephone has released from the old guilt of sin, their souls she sends in the ninth year back again to the upper sun; of them are born mighty kings, and men of power and wisdom, who come to be styled saintly heroes by their posterity." And, again: "Plato was the first of the Greeks to throw himself, in all sincerity, and with the whole depth of his intellect, upon the solution of the great question of immortality.... He was, in truth, the prophet of the doctrine of immortality for his time, and for the Greek nation.... The metempsychosis which he taught under Orphic and Pythagorean inspiration is an essential ingredient of his theory of the world, and is, therefore, perpetually recurring in his more important works. He connects it with an idea sifted and taken from popular belief of a state of penance in Hades, though it can hardly be ascertained how large a portion of mystical ornament or poetical conjecture he throws into the particular delineation of 'the last things,' and of transmigration. He adopts ten grades of migration, each of a thousand years; so that the soul, in each migration, makes a selection of its life-destiny, and renews its penance ten times, until it is enabled to return to an incorporeal existence with God, and to the pure contemplation of Him and the ideal world. Philosophic souls only escape after a three-fold migration, in each of which they choose again their first mode of life. All other souls are judged in the nether world after their first life, and there do penance for their guilt in different quarters; the incurable only are thrust down forever into Tartarus. He attaches eternal punishment to certain particularly abominable sins, while such as have lived justly repose blissfully in the dwelling of a kindred star until their entrance into a second life. Plato was clearly acquainted with the fact of the necessity of an intermediate state between eternal happiness and misery, a state of penance and purification after death." [1] [Footnote 1: "The Gentile and the Jew," Vol. I. pp. 301-320.] The popular notion of Charon, the ferryman of the lower world, refusing to carry over the river Acheron the souls of such as had not been buried, but leaving them to wander on the shores for a century before he would consent, or rather before he was permitted by the rulers of the Hades to do so, contains a vestige of the belief in a middle state, where some souls had to suffer for a time before they could enter into the abode of the blest. But when it is said that the friends of the deceased could, by interring his remains, secure his entry into the desired repose, we see a more striking resemblance to the doctrine that friends on earth are able to assist the souls undergoing purgation. A remarkable instance of the popular belief in this doctrine is furnished in Grecian history, where the soldiers were encouraged on a certain occasion to risk their lives in the service of their country by their being told to write their names on their arms, so that if any fell his friends could have him properly interred, and thus secure him against all fear of having to wander for a century on the bleak shores of the dividing river. Nothing could better show the hold which this idea had on the minds of the people. Roman mythological ideas were, as has been said, nearly related to those of Greece; they underwent as great modifications, while the opinions of her philosophers were equally abstruse, varied, and difficult to understand. The author above quoted, treating of the notion of the soul and a future state entertained by the Roman philosophers, proves their ideas to have been extremely vague and ill- defined. Still, there were not wanting those who held to the belief of an existence after this life. Plutarch, a Greek, "has left us a view of the state of the departed. The souls of the dead, ascending through the air, and in part reaching the highest heaven, are either luminous and transparent or dark and spotted, on account of sins adhering to them, and some have even scars upon them. The soul of man, he says elsewhere, comes from the moon; his mind, intellect,--from the sun; the separation of the two is only completely effected after death. The soul wanders awhile between the moon and earth for purposes of punishment--or, if it be good, of purification, until it rises to the moon, where the _vouç_ [1] leaves it and returns to its home, the sun; while the soul is buried in the moon. Lucian, on the other hand, whose writings for the most part are a pretty faithful mirror of the notions in vogue among his contemporaries, bears testimony to a continuance of the old tradition of the good reaching the Elysian fields, and the great transgressors finding themselves given up to the Erinnys in a place of torment, where they are torn by vultures, crushed on the wheel, or otherwise tormented; while such as are neither great sinners nor distinguished by their virtues stray about in meadows as bodiless shadows, and are fed on the libations and mortuary sacrifices offered at their sepulchres. An obolus for Charon was still placed in the mouth of every dead body." [2] Here, again, we have both the belief in the existence of a middle state and of the assistance afforded to those detained there. [Footnote 1: Mind] [Footnote 2: "The Gentile and the Jew," Vol. II., p. 146.] The religion of the Druids is so wrapped in mystery that it is difficult to determine what they believed on any point, and much more on that of the future lot of the soul; but as they held the doctrine of metempsychosis, it is fair to class them among the adherents to the notion of a period of purgation between death and the soul's entrance into its final rest. Of the views of the sturdy Norsemen, on the contrary, there can be no two opinions; in their mythology the idea of a middle state is expressed in the clearest language. The following passage from Mr. Anderson, places the matter beyond question. I may first remark, for the information of the general reader, that by Gimle is meant the abode of the righteous after the day of judgment; by Naastrand, the place of punishment after the same dread sentence; by Ragnarok, the last day; Valhal, the temporary place of happiness to which the god Odin invites those who have been slain in battle; and Hel, the goddess of death, whose abode is termed Helheim. With these explanations the reader will be able to understand the subjoined passage, which expresses the Norse idea of the future purgation of the soul. After speaking of the lot of the departed, the writer says: "But it must be remembered that Gimle and Naastrand have reference to the state of things after Ragnarok, the Twilight of the gods; while Valhal and Hel have reference to the state of things between death and Ragnarok;-- a time of existence corresponding somewhat to what is called _Purgatory_ by the Catholic Church." [1] [Footnote 1: "Norse Mythology," p. 393.] It would appear to be no exaggeration to claim the same belief in a middle state for the American Indians, in as far as it is possible for us to draw anything definite from their crude notions of religion. A good authority on subjects connected with Indian customs and beliefs says: "The belief respecting the land of souls varied greatly in different tribes and different individuals." And, again: "An endless variety of incoherent fancies is connected with the Indian idea of a future life.... At intervals of ten or twelve years, the Hurons, the Neutrals, and other kindred tribes, were accustomed to collect the bones of their dead, and deposit them, with great ceremony, in a common place of burial. The whole nation was sometimes assembled at this solemnity; and hundreds of corpses, brought from their temporary resting-places, were inhumed in one common pit. From this hour the immortality of their souls began." This evidently implies a period during which the souls were wandering at a distance from the place of their eternal repose. Does the following passage throw any light upon it? The reader must decide the point for himself. "Most of the traditions," continues the same writer, "agree, however, that the spirits, on their journey heavenward, were beset with difficulties and perils. There was a swift river which must be crossed on a log that shook beneath their feet, while a ferocious dog opposed their passage, and drove many into the abyss. This river was full of sturgeons and other fish, which the ghosts speared for their subsistence. Beyond was a narrow path between moving rocks which each instant crushed together, grinding to atoms the less nimble of the pilgrims who essayed to pass." [1] A vestige of the same belief seems to crop out in a custom of some of the tribes of Central Africa, as appears from the remarks of a recent traveller. "When a death occurs," says Major Serpa Pinto, "the body is shrouded in a white cloth, and, being covered with an ox-hide, is carried to the grave, dug in a place selected for the purpose. The days following on an interment are days of high festival in the hut of the deceased. The native kings are buried with some ceremony, and their bodies, being arrayed in their best clothes, are conveyed to the tomb in a dressed hide. There is a great feasting on these occasions, and an enormous sacrifice of cattle; for the heir of the deceased is bound to sacrifice his whole herd in order to regale his people, and give peace to the soul of the departed." [2] [Footnote 1: "The Jesuits in North America," Francis Parkman. Introduction, pp. 81, 92.] [Footnote 2: "How I Crossed Africa," Vol. I., p. 63.] Such a unity of sentiment on the part of so many nations differing in every other respect can only be attributed either to a natural feeling inherent in man, or to a primitive revelation, which, amid the vicissitudes of time, has left its impress on the minds of all nations. That the doctrine of a middle state of purification was a part of the primitive revelation cannot, I think, admit of reasonable doubt. To the true servant of God, this unanimity is another proof of the faith once revealed to the Saints, and, at the same time, an additional motive for thanking God for the light vouchsafed him, while so many others are left to grope in the darkness of error.--_Ave Maria,_ Nov. 17, 1883. DEVOTION TO THE DEAD AMONGST THE AMERICAN INDIANS OF THE EARLY JESUIT MISSIONS. In the "_Rélations des Jésuites_," on their early missions in New France, now Canada, we find many examples, told in the quaint old French of the seventeenth century, and with true apostolic simplicity, of the tender devotion for the souls in Purgatory cherished by all the Indians of every tribe who had embraced Christianity from the teaching of those zealous missionaries. The few extracts we give below from the "_Rélations_" will serve to show how deeply this touching devotion to the departed is implanted in our nature, seeing that the doctrine of a place of purgation in the after life finds so ready a response in the heart and soul of the untutored children of the forest: "The devotion which they have for the souls of the departed is another mark of their faith. Not far from this assembly there is a cemetery, in the midst of which is seen a fine cross; sepulchres four or five feet wide and six or seven feet long, rise about four feet from the ground, carefully covered with bark. At the head and feet of the dead are two crosses, and on one side a sword, if the dead were a man, or some domestic article, if a woman. Having arrived there, I was asked to pray to God for the souls of those who were buried in that place. A good Christian gave me a beaver skin by the hands of her daughter, about seven years of age, and said to me, when her daughter presented it: 'Father, this present is to ask you to pray to God for the souls of her sister and her grandmother.' Many others made the same request; I promised to comply with their wishes, but, as for their presents, I could not accept them. "Some time ago, when the Christians of this place died, their beads were buried with them; this custom was last year changed for a holier one, by means of a good Christian who, when dying, gave her chaplet to another, begging her to keep it and say it for her, at least on feast days. This charity was done to her, and the custom was introduced from that time: so it was that when any one died, his or her rosary was given, with a little present, to some one chosen from the company present, who is bound to take it, and say it for the departed soul, at least on Sundays and Festivals."--_Journal of Father Jacques Buteux in "Rélations," Vol. II_. * * * * * In one of the Huron missions, an Indian named Joachim Annicouton, converted after many years of evil courses and, later, of hypocritical pretense of conversion, was murdered by three drunken savages of his own tribe, but lived long enough to edify all around him by his pious resignation, his admirable patience in the most cruel sufferings, and his generous forgiveness of his enemies. Having given a touching account of his death, the good Father Claude Dablon goes on to say: "A very singular circumstance took place at his burial, which was attended by all the families of the village, with many of the French residents of the neighborhood. Before the body was laid in the earth, the widow inquired if the authors of his death were present; being told that they were not, she begged that they might be sent for. These poor creatures having come, they drew near to the corpse, with downcast eyes, sorrow and confusion in their faces. The widow, looking upon them, said: 'Well! behold poor Joachim Annicouton, you know what brought him to the state in which you now see him; I ask of you no other satisfaction but that you pray to God for the repose of his soul.' ..." * * * * * "It is customary amongst the Indians to give all the goods of the dead to their relatives and friends, to mourn their death; but the husband of Catherine, in his quality of first captain, assembled the Council of the Ancients, and told them that they must no longer keep to their former customs, which profited nothing to the dead; that, as for him, his thought was to dress up the body of the deceased in her best garments, as she might rise some day,--and to employ the rest of what belonged to her in giving alms to the poor. This thought was approved of by all, and it became a law which was ever after strictly observed. "The body of his wife was then arrayed in her best clothes, and he distributed amongst the poor all that remained of her little furniture, charging them to pray for the dead. The whole might have amounted to three hundred francs, which is a great deal for an Indian."-- _Rélations_, 1673-4. * * * * * "They [1] have established amongst them a somewhat singular practice to help the souls in Purgatory. Besides the offerings they make for that to the Church, and the alms they give to the poor,--besides the devotion of the four Sundays of the month, to which is attached an indulgence for the souls in Purgatory, so great that these days are like Easter; as soon as any one is dead, his or her nearest relations make a spiritual collection of communions in every family, begging them to offer all they can for the repose, of the dead."--_Rélations_, 1677-8. [Footnote 1: The Hurons of Loretto, near Quebec.] SUPERSTITIOUS BELIEF AMONGST SOME OF THE NORTH AMERICAN INDIANS. CABRAL. When they are asked what they think of the soul, they answer that it is the shadow "or living image" of the body; and it is as a consequence of this principle that they believe all animated in the universe. It is by tradition that they suppose the soul immortal. They pretend that, separated from the body, it retains the inclinations it had during life; and hence comes the custom of burying with the dead all that had served to satisfy their wants or their tastes. They are even persuaded that the soul remains a long time near the body after their separation, and that it afterwards passes on into a country which they know not, or, as some will have it, transformed into a turtle. Others give all men two souls, one such as we have mentioned, the other which never leaves the body, and goes from one but to pass into another. For this reason it is that they bury children on the roadside, so that women passing by may pick up these second souls, which, not having long enjoyed life, are more eager to begin it anew. They must also be fed; and for that purpose it is that divers sorts of food are placed on the graves, but that is only done for a little while, as it is supposed that in time the souls get accustomed to fasting. The difficulty they find in supporting the living makes them forget the care for the nourishment of the dead. It is also customary to bury with them all that had belonged to them, presents being even added thereto; hence it is a grievous scandal amongst all those nations when they see Europeans open graves to take out the beaver robes they have placed therein. The burial-grounds are places so respected that their profanation is accounted the most atrocious outrage that can be offered to an Indian village. Is there not in all this a semblance of belief in our doctrine of Purgatory? REMEMBRANCE OF THE DEAD AMONGST THE EGYPTIANS. In Egypt, as all over the East, the lives of women amongst the wealthier classes are for the most part spent within the privacy of their homes, as it were in close confinement: they are born, live, and die in the bosom of that impenetrable sanctuary. It is only on Thursday that they go forth, with their slaves carrying refreshments and followed by hired weepers. It is a sacred duty that calls them to the public cemetery. There they have funeral hymns chanted, their own plaintive cries mingling with the sorrowful lamentations of the mourners. They shed tears and flowers on the graves of their kindred, which they afterwards cover with the meats brought by their servants, and all the crowd, after inviting the souls of the dead, partake of a religious repast, in the persuasion that those beloved shades taste of the same food and are present at the sympathetic banquet. Is there not in this superstition a distorted tradition of the dogma by which we are commanded not to forget the souls of our brethren beyond the grave?-- _Annals of the Propagation of the Faith_, Vol. XVII. REMEMBRANCE OF THE DEAD THROUGHOUT EUROPE. PART I. ANNA T. SADLIER. "Hark! the whirlwind is in the wood, a low murmur in the vale; it is the mighty army of the dead returning from the air." These beautiful words occur in one of the ancient Celtic poems quoted by Macpherson and dating some thousand years later than Ossian. For the Celts held to the doctrine of the immortality of souls, and believed that their ethereal substance was wafted from place to place by the wind on the clouds of heaven. Amongst the Highlanders a belief prevailed that there were certain hills to which the spirits of their departed friends had a peculiar attachment. Thus the hill of Ore was regarded by the house of Crubin as their place of meeting in the future life, and its summit was supposed to be supernaturally illumined when any member of the family died. It was likewise a popular belief that the spirits of the departed haunted places beloved in life, hovered about their friends, and appeared at times on the occasion of any important family event. In the calm of a new existence, "Side by side they sit who once mixed in battle their steel." There is a poetic beauty in many of these ancient beliefs concerning the dead, but they are far surpassed in grandeur and sublimity, as well as in deep tenderness, by the Christian conception of a state of purgation after death, when the souls of the departed are still bound to, their dear ones upon earth by a strong spiritual bond of mutual help. They dwell, then, in an abode of peace, although of intense suffering, and calmly await the eternal decree which summons them to heaven; while the time of their probation is shortened day by day, month by month, year by year by the Masses, prayers, alms-deeds and other suffrages of their friends who are still dwellers on earth, living the old life; and in its rush of cares and duties, of pleasures and of pains, forgetting them too often in all save prayer. That is the reminder. The dead who have died in the bosom of the Holy Church can never be quite forgotten. "The mighty army of the dead returning from the air" might in our Catholic conception be that host of delivered souls who, after the Feast of All Souls, or some such season of special prayer for them, are arising upwards into everlasting bliss. But it is our purpose in the present chapters to gather up from the byways of history occasions when the belief in prayer for the dead is made manifest, whether it be in some noted individual, in a people, or in a country. It is "the low murmur of the vale" going up constantly from all peoples, from all times, under all conditions. In Russia not only is prayer for the dead most sedulously observed by the Catholic Church, but also in a most particular manner by the Schismatic Greeks. The following details under this head will be, no doubt, of interest to our readers: "As soon as the spirit has departed, the body is dressed and placed in an open coffin in a room decorated for the purpose. Numerous lights are kept burning day and night; and while the relations take turns to watch and pray by the coffin, the friends come to pay the last visit to the deceased.... On the decease of extraordinary persons, the Emperor and his successor are accustomed to visit the corpse, while the poor, on the other hand, never fail to lament at the door the loss of their benefactor, and to be dismissed with handsome donations. Total strangers, too, come of their own accord to offer a prayer for the deceased; for the image of a saint hung up before the door indicates to every passenger the house of mourning.... The time of showing the corpse lasts in general only three or four days, and then follow the blessing of the deceased, and the granting of the pass. The latter is to be taken literally. The corpse is carried to the Church, and the priest lays upon the breast a long paper, which the common people call 'a pass for heaven.' On this paper is written the Christian name of the deceased, the date of his birth and that of his death. It then states that he was baptized as a Christian, that he lived as such, and before his death, received the Sacrament--in short, the whole course of life which he led as a Greek Russian Christian.... All who meet a funeral take off their hats, and offer a prayer to Heaven for the deceased, and such is the outward respect paid on such occasions, that it is not until they have entirely lost sight of the procession that they put on their hats again. This honor is paid to every corpse, whether of the Russian, Protestant, or Catholic Communions.... After the corpse is duly prepared, the priests sing a funeral Mass, called in Russian clerical language, _panichide_.... On the anniversary of the death of a beloved relative, they assemble in the Church, and have a _panichide_ read for his soul.... Persons of distinction found a lamp to burn forever at the tombs of their dead, and have these _panichides_ repeated every week, for, perhaps, a long series of years. Lastly, every year, on a particular day, Easter Monday, a service and a repast are held for all the dead." The history of France, like that of all Catholic nations, abounds in instances of public intercession for the dead, the pomp and splendor of royal obsequies, the solemn utterances of public individuals; the celebrations at Père la Chaise, the magnificent requiems. In a nation so purely Catholic as it was and is, though the scum of evil men have arisen like a foul miasma to its surface, it does not surprise us. We shall therefore select from its history an incident or two, somewhat at random. That beautiful one, far back at the era of the Crusades, where St. Louis, King of France, absent in the East, received intelligence of the death of Queen Blanche, his mother. The grief of the Papal Legate, who had come to announce the news, was apparent in his face, and Louis, fearing some new blow, led the prelate into his chapel, which, according to an ancient chronicler, was "his arsenal against all the crosses of the world." Louis, overcome with sorrow, quickly changed his tears and lamentations into the language of resignation, and desiring to be left alone with his confessor, Geoffrey de Beaulieu, recited the office of the dead. "He was present every day at a funeral service celebrated in memory of his mother; and sent into the West a great number of jewels and precious stones to be distributed among the principal churches of France; at the same time exhorting the clergy to put up prayers for the repose of his mother. In proportion with his endeavors," continues the historian, "to procure prayers for his mother, his grief yielded to the hope of seeing her again in heaven; and his mind, when calmed by resignation, found its most effectual consolation in that mysterious tie which still unites us with those we have lost, in that religious sentiment which mingles with our affections to purify them, and with our regrets to mitigate them." [1] [Footnote 1: "Michaud's Hist. of the Crusades," Vol. II., pp. 477-8.] In the Instructions which St. Louis addressed on his death-bed to his son, Philip the Bold, is to be found the following paragraph: "Dear Son, I pray thee, if it shall please our Lord that I should quit this life before thee, that thou wilt help me with Masses and prayers, and that thou wilt send to the congregations of the kingdom of France, to make them put up prayers for my soul, and that thou wilt desire that our Lord may give me part in all the good deeds thou shalt perform." [1] [Footnote 1: These instructions were preserved in a register of the Chamber of Accounts. See Appendix to "Michaud's History of Crusades," Vol. II., p. 471.] Philip, on the death of his father, in a letter which was read aloud in all the churches, begs of the clergy and faithful, "to put up to the King of kings their prayers and their offerings for that prince; with whose zeal for religion and tender solicitude for the kingdom of France, which he loved as the apple of his eye, they were so well acquainted." In the Chronicles of Froissart, as well as in the Grande Chronique of St. Denis, we read that the body of King John, who died a prisoner in England, was brought home with great pomp and circumstance, on the first day of May, 1364. It was at first placed in the Abbey of St. Anthony, thence removed to Notre Dame, and finally to St. Denis, the resting-place of royalty, where solemn Mass was said. On the day of his interment, the Archbishop of Sens sang the requiem. Thus did Holy Mother Church welcome the exile home. A pretty anecdote is that of Marie Lecsinska, Queen of Louis XV., who, on hearing of the death of Marshal Saxe, a Lutheran by profession, and but an indifferent observer of the maxims of any creed, cried out: "Alas! what a pity that we cannot sing a _De Profundis_ for a man who has made us sing so many _Te Deums_." We cannot take our leave of France, without noticing here the beautiful prayer offered up by the saintly Princess Louise de Bourbon Condé, in religion _S�ur Marie Joseph de la Miséricorde_, on hearing of the death of her nephew, the Duc d'Enghien, so cruelly put to death by the first Napoleon. Falling, face downwards, on the earth, she prayed: "Mercy, my God, have mercy upon him! Have mercy, Lord, on the soul of Louis Antoine! Pardon the faults of his youth, remembering the precious Blood, which Jesus Christ shed for all men, and have regard to the cruel manner in which his blood was shed. Glory and misfortune have attended his life. But what we call glory, has it any claims in Thy eyes? However, Lord, it is not a demerit before Thee, when it is based on true honor, which is always inseparable from devotion to our duties. Thou knowest, Lord, those that he has fulfilled, and for those in which he has failed, let the misfortunes of which he has been at last the victim, be a repararation and an expiation. Again, Lord, I ask for mercy for his soul." On the death of Napoleon, the murderer of this beloved nephew, the same holy religious wrote to the Bishop of St. Flour: "Bonaparte is dead; he was your enemy, for he persecuted you. I think you will say a Mass for him; I beg also that you say a Mass on my behalf for this unfortunate man." Turning to the History of Rome, it will be of interest to take a glance at the pious Confraternity _della Morte_ which was instituted in 1551, and regularly established in 1560, by His Holiness, Pius IV. It was chiefly composed of citizens of high rank. Its object was to provide burial for the dead. Solemnly broke upon the balmy stillness of the Roman nights, all these years and centuries since its foundation, its chanting of holy psalmody, and its audible praying for the dead, borne along in its religious keeping. The glare of the waxen torches fell upon the bier, the voices of the associates joined in the _Miserere,_ and the Church reached, the corpse was laid there, till the fitting hour, when the Requiem Mass should be sung, and the final absolution given, preparatory to interment. Florence supplies us with a brilliant picture of that sixth day of July, 1439, the feast of Saint Romolo the Martyr, in the ninth year of the Pontificate of Pope Eugenius IV., when long-standing differences between the Greek and Latin Churches were brought to an end in a most amicable manner. Alas! for the Greeks, that they did not accept the decisions of that day as final. On the 22d of January, 1439, Cosmo de Medici, then Gonfaloniere of Florence, received the Pope and his cardinals, with a pomp and splendor unknown to the history of modern Europe. On the 12th of the following month came the Patriarch, Joseph of Constantinople, and his bishops and theologians. On the 15th arrived the Greek Emperor, John Paleologus, who was received at the Porto San Gallo by the Pope and all his cardinals, the Florentine Signory, and a long procession of the members of the monastic orders. "A rare and very remarkable assemblage," says a chronicler [1] "of the most learned men of Europe, and, indeed, of those extra European seats of a past culture, which were even now giving forth the last flashes from a once brilliant light on the point of being quenched in utter darkness, were thus assembled at Florence." [Footnote 1: T. A. Trollope, in "History of the Commonwealth of Florence," Vol. III., pp. 137-8.] This was the inauguration of the far-famed Council of Florence, which had the result of settling the points at issue between the Eastern and Western Churches. "The Greeks confessed that the Roman faith proceeded rightly (_prociedere bene_), and united themselves with it by the grace of God." Proclamation was accordingly made in the Cathedral, then called Santa Reparata, that the Greeks had agreed to hold and to believe the five disputed articles of which the fifth was, "That he who dies in sin for which penance has been done, but from which he has not been purged, goes to Purgatory, and that the divine offices, Masses, prayers, and alms are useful for the purging of him." In the history of Ireland, as might be expected, we come upon many instances wherein the dead are solemnly remembered from that period, when still pagan, and one of the ancient manuscripts gives us an account of certain races, it calls them, which were held for "the souls of the foreigners slain in battle." This was back in the night of antiquity, and was no doubt some relic of the Christian tradition which had remained amid the darkness of paganism. But to come to the Christian period. The famous Hugues de Lasci, or Hugo de Lacy, Lord of Meath, and one of the most distinguished men in early Irish annals, founded many abbeys and priories, one at Colpe, near the mouth of the Boyne, one at Duleek, one at Dublin, and one at Kells. The Canons of St. Augustine, as we read, "in return for this gift, covenanted that one of them should be constantly retained as a chaplain to celebrate Mass for his soul and for those of his ancestors and successors." We also read how Marguerite, wife of Gualtier de Lasci, brother of the above, gave a large tract in the royal forest of Acornebury, in Herefordshire, for the erection of a nunnery for the benefit of the souls of her parents, Guillaume and Mathilda de Braose, who with their son, her brother, had been famished in the dungeon at Windsor. In the account of the death in Spain of Red Hugh O'Donnell, who holds a high place among the chivalry of Ireland, it is mentioned that on his death- bed, "after lamenting his crimes and transgressions; after a rigid penance for his sins and iniquities; after making his confession without reserve to his confessors, and receiving the body and blood of Christ; after being duly anointed by the hands of his own confessors and ecclesiastical attendants," he expired after seventeen days' illness at the king's palace in Simancas. "His body," says the ancient chronicler, "was conveyed to the king's palace at Valladolid in a four- wheeled hearse, surrounded by countless numbers of the king's State officers, council and guards, with luminous torches and bright flambeaux of wax lights burning on either side. He was afterwards interred in the monastery of St. Francis, in the Chapter, precisely, with veneration and honor, and in the most solemn manner that any of the Gaels had been ever interred in before. Masses and many hymns, chants and melodious canticles were celebrated for the welfare of his soul; and his requiem was sung with becoming solemnity." On the death of the celebrated Brian Boroihme, historians relate how his body was conveyed by the clergy to the Abbey of Swords, whence it was brought by other portions of the clergy and taken successively to two monasteries. It was then met by the Archbishop of Armagh, at the head of his priesthood, and conveyed to Armagh, where the obsequies were celebrated with a pomp and a fervor worthy the greatness and the piety of the deceased monarch. In view of the arguments which are sometimes adduced to prove that the early Irish Church did not teach this doctrine of prayer for the dead, it is curious to observe how in St. Patrick's second Council he expressly forbids the holy sacrifice being offered up after death for those who in life had made themselves unworthy of such suffrages. At the Synod of Cashel, held just after the Norman conquest, the claim of each dead man's soul to a certain part of his chattels after death was asserted. To steal a page from the time-worn chronicles of Scotland, it is told by Theodoric that when Queen Margaret of Scotland, that gentle and noble character upon whom the Church has placed the crown of canonization, was dying, she said to him: "Two things I have to desire of thee;" and one of these was thus worded, "that as long as thou livest thou wilt remember my poor soul in thy Masses and prayers." It had been her custom in life to recite the office of the dead every day during Lent and Advent. Sir Walter Scott mentions in his Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border "a curious league or treaty of peace between two hostile clans, by which the heads of each became bound to make the four pilgrimages of Scotland for the benefit of those souls who had fallen in the feud." In the Bond of Alliance or Field Staunching Betwixt the Clans of Scott and Ker this agreement is thus worded: "That it is appointed, agreed and finally accorded betwixt honorable men," the names are here mentioned, "Walter Ker of Cessford, Andrew Ker of Fairnieherst," etc., etc., "for themselves, kin, friends, maintenants, assisters, allies, adherents, and partakers, on the one part; and Walter Scott of Branxholm," etc., etc., etc. For the staunching of all discord and variance between them and so on, amongst other provisions, that "the said Walter Scott of Branxholm shall gang, or cause gang, at the will of the party, to the four head pilgrimages of Scotland, and shall say a Mass for the unquhile Andrew Ker of Cessford and them that were slain in his company in the field of Melrose; and, upon his expence, shall cause a chaplain to say a Mass daily, when he is disposed, in what place the said Walter Ker and his friend pleases, for the weil of the said souls, for the space of five years next to come. Mark Ker of Dolphinston, Andrew Ker of Graden, shall gang at the will of the party to the four head pilgrimages of Scotland, and shall gar say a Mass for the souls of the unquhile James Scott of Eskirk and other Scots, their friends, slain in the field of Melrose; and, upon their expence, shall gar a chaplain say a Mass daily, when he is disposed, for the heal of their souls, where the said Walter Scott and his friend pleases, for the space of the next three years to come." We may mention that the four pilgrimages are Scoon, Dundee, Paisley, and Melrose. This devotion of praying for the dead seems, indeed, to have taken strong hold upon these rude borderers, who, Sir Walter Scott informs us, "remained attached to the Roman Catholic faith rather longer than the rest of Scotland." In many of their ancient ballads, at some of which we have already glanced, this belief is prominent. The dying man, or as in the case of Clerk Saunders, the ghost begs of his survivors to "wish my soul good rest." This belief is intermingled with their superstitions as in that one attached to Macduff's Cross. This cross is situated near Lindores, on the marsh dividing Fife from Strathern. Around the pedestal of this cross are tumuli, said to be the graves of those who, having claimed the privilege of the law, failed in proving their consanguinity to the Thane of Fife. Such persons were instantly executed. The people of Newburgh believe that the spectres of these criminals still haunt the ruined cross, and claim that mercy for their souls which they had failed to obtain for their mortal existence. Thus does the historian [1] mention the burial of St. Ninian, one of the favorite Saints of the Scots: "He was buried in the Church of St. Martin, which he had himself built from the foundation, and placed in a stone coffin near the altar, the clergy and people standing by and lifting up their heavenly hymns with heart and voice, with sighs and tears." [Footnote 1: Walsh's Hist, of the Cath. Church in Scotland.] In the treasurer's books which relate to the reign of James IV. of Scotland, there is the following entry for April, 1503: "The king went again to Whethorn." (A place of pilgrimage.) "While there he heard of the death of his brother, John, Earl of Mar, and charged the priests to perform a 'dirge and soul Mass' for his brother, and paid them for their pains." In Montalembert's beautiful description of Iona, he mentions the tradition which declares that eight Norwegian kings or princes, four kings of Ireland, and forty-eight Scottish kings were buried there, as also one king of France, whose name is not mentioned, and Egfrid, the Saxon King of Northumbria. There is the tomb of Robert Bruce, the tombs of many bishops, abbots, and of the great chiefs and nobles, the Macdougalls, Lords of Lorn; the Macdonalds, Lords of the Isles; the Macleods, and the Macleans. Nowhere, perhaps, has death placed his seal on a more imposing assemblage, of truly royal stateliness, of astonishingly cosmopolitan variety. In the midst of it all, in the very centre of the burying-ground, stands a ruined chapel, under the invocation of St. Oran, the first Irish monk who died in this region. The church was built by the sainted Margaret, the wife of Malcolm Canmore, and the mother of St. David. Its mission there was obvious. From its altar arose to the Most High, the solemn celebration of the dread mysteries, the psalm and the prayer, for prince and for prelate, for the great alike in the spiritual and temporal hierarchy. The Duke of Argyle, in his work on Iona, seems astonished to find that St. Columba believed in all the principal truths of Catholic faith, amongst others, prayers for the dead, and yet he considers that he could not be called a Catholic. The process of reasoning is a curious one. Mention is made in the history of Scotland of a famous bell, preserved at Glasgow until the Reformation. It was supposed to have been brought from Rome by St. Kentigern, and was popularly called "St. Mungo's Bell." It was tolled through the city to invite the citizens to pray for the repose of departed souls. In the great cathedrals of Scotland, before the Reformation, private chapels and altars were endowed for the relief of the dead, while in the cities and large towns, each trade or corporation had an altar in the principal churches and supported a chaplain to offer up Masses and prayers as well for the dead as for the living. The following incident is related in the life of the lovely and so sadly maligned Mary Queen of Scots. In the early days of her reign, when still struggling with the intolerant fury of Knox and his followers,--it was in the December of 1561--Mary desired to have solemn Mass offered up for the repose of the soul of her deceased husband, the youthful Francis. This so aroused the fury of the fanatics about her, that they threatened to take the life of the priests who had officiated. "Immediately after the Requiem was over, she caused a proclamation to be made by a Herald at the Market Cross, that no man on pain of his life should do any injury, or give offense or trouble to her chaplains." The poet Campbell in his dirge for Wallace, makes the Lady of Elderslie, the hero's wife, cry out in the first intensity of her sorrow; "Now sing you the death-song and loudly pray For the soul of my knight 'so dear.'" We shall now leave the wild poetic region of Scotland, and with it conclude Part First, taking up again in Part Second the thread of our narrative, which will wind in and out through various countries of Europe, ending at last with a glance at our own America. REMEMBRANCE OF THE DEAD THROUGHOUT EUROPE. PART II. In Austria we find an example of devotion to the dead, in the saintly Empress Eleanor, who, after the death of her husband, the Emperor Leopold, in 1705, was wont to pray two hours every day for the eternal repose of his soul. Not less touching is an account given by a Protestant traveller of an humble pair, whom he encountered at Prague during his wanderings there. They were father and daughter, and attached, the one as bell-ringer, the other as laundress, to the Church on the Visschrad. He found them in their little dwelling. It was on the festival of St. Anne, when all Prague was making merry. The girl said to him: "Father and I were just sitting together, and this being St. Anne's Day, we were thinking of my mother, whose name was also Anne." The father then said, addressing his daughter: "Thou shalt go down to St. Jacob's to-morrow, and have a Mass read for thy mother, Anne." For the mother who had been long years slumbering in the little cemetery hard by. There is, something touching to me in this little incident, for it tells how the pious memory of the beloved dead dwelt in these simple hearts, dwells in the hearts of the people everywhere, as in that of the pious empress, whose inconsolable sorrow found vent in long hours of prayer for the departed. In the will of Christopher Columbus there is special mention made of the church which he desired should be erected at Concepcion, one of his favorite places in the New World, so named by himself. In this church he arranged that three Masses should be celebrated daily--the first in honor of the Blessed Trinity; the second, in honor of the Immaculate Conception; and the third for the faithful departed. This will was made in May, 1506. The body of the great discoverer was laid in the earth, to the lasting shame of the Spaniards, with but little other remembrance than that which the Church gives to the meanest of her children. The Franciscans, his first friends, as now his last, accompanied his remains to the Cathedral Church of Valladolid, where a Requiem Mass was sung, and his body laid in the vault of the Observantines with but little pomp. Later on, however, the king, in remorse for past neglect, or from whatever cause, had the body taken up and transported with great pomp to Seville. There a Mass was sung, and a solemn funeral service took place at the cathedral, whence the corpse of the Admiral was conveyed beyond the Guadalquivir to St. Mary of the Grottoes (Santa Maria de las Grutas). But the remains of this most wonderful of men were snatched from the silence of the Carthusian cloister some ten years later, and taken thence to Castile, thence again to San Domingo, where they were laid in the sanctuary of the cathedral to the right of the main altar. Again they were disturbed and taken on board the brigantine Discovery to the Island of Cuba, where solemnly, once more, the Requiem for the Dead swelled out, filling with awe the immense assembly, comprising, as we are told, all the civil and military notables of the island. In the annals of the Knight Hospitallers of St. John, it is recorded that after a great and providential victory won by them over the Moslem foe, and by the fruits of which Rhodes was saved from falling into the hands of the enemy, the Grand Master D'Aubusson proceeded to the Church of St. John to return thanks. And that he also caused the erection of three churches in honor of Our Blessed Lady, and the Patron Saints of the city. These three churches were endowed for prayers and Masses to be offered in perpetuity for the souls of those who had fallen in battle. This D'Aubusson was in all respects one of the most splendid knights that Christendom has produced. A model of Christian knighthood, he is unquestionably one of the greatest of the renowned Grand Masters of St. John. There is a touching incident told in these same annals of two knights, the Chevalier de Servieux, counted the most accomplished gentleman of his day, and La Roche Pichelle. Both of them were not only the flower of Christian knighthood, but model religious as well. They died of wounds received in a sea fight off Saragossa in 1630, and on their death-beds lay side by side in the same room, consoling and exhorting each other, it being arranged between them, that whoever survived the longest should offer all his pains for the relief of his companion's soul. We have now reached a part of our work, upon which we shall have occasion to dwell at some length, and notwithstanding the fact that it has already formed the subject of two preceding articles. It is that which relates to England, and which is doubly interesting to Catholics, as being the early record of what is now the chief Protestant nation of Europe. To go back to those Anglo-Saxon days, which might be called in some measure the golden age of Catholic faith in England, we shall see what was the custom which prevailed at the moment of dissolution. In the regulations which follow there is not question of a monarch nor a public individual, nor of priest nor prelate, but simply of an ordinary Christian just dead. "The moment he expired the bell was tolled. Its solemn voice announced to the neighborhood that a Christian brother was departed, and called on those who heard it to recommend his soul to the mercy of his Creator. All were expected to join, privately, at least, in this charitable office; and in monasteries, even if it were in the dead of night, the inmates hastened from their beds to the church, and sang a solemn dirge. The only persons excluded from the benefit of these prayers were those who died avowedly in despair, or under the sentence of excommunication. "... Till the hour of burial, which was often delayed for some days to allow time for the arrival of strangers from a distance, small parties of monks or clergymen attended in rotation, either watching in silent prayer by the corpse or chanting with subdued voice the funeral service.... When the necessary preparations were completed, the body of the deceased was placed on a bier or in a hearse. On it lay the book of the Gospels, the code of his belief, and the cross, the emblem of his hope. A pall of linen or silk was thrown over it till it reached the place of interment. The friends were invited, strangers often deemed it a duty to attend. The clergy walked in procession before, or divided into two bodies, one on each side, singing a portion of the psalter and generally bearing lights in their hands. As soon as they entered the church the service for the dead was performed; a Mass of requiem followed; the body was deposited in the grave, the sawlshot paid, and a liberal donation distributed to the poor." [1] [Footnote 1: "Lingard's Antiquities of the Anglo Saxon Church," Vol. II, pp. 46-47.] In the northern portico of the Cathedral of Canterbury was erected an altar in honor of St. Gregory, where a Mass was offered every Saturday for the souls of departed archbishops. We read that Oidilwald, King of the Deiri, and son of King Oswald, founded a monastery that it might be the place of his sepulture, because "he was confident of deriving great benefit from the prayers of those who should serve the Lord in that house." Dunwald the Thane, on his departure for Rome to carry thither the alms of his dead master, King Ethelwald, A.D. 762, bequeathed a dwelling in the market in Queengate to the Church of SS. Peter and Paul for the benefit of the king's soul and his own soul. As far back as the days of the good King Arthur, whose existence has been so enshrouded in fable that many have come to believe him a myth, we read that Queen Guenever II., of unhappy memory, having spent her last years in repentance, was buried in Ambreabury, Wiltshire. The place of her interment was a monastery erected by Aurelius Ambrose, the uncle of King Arthur, "for the maintenance of three hundred monks to pray for the souls of the British noblemen slain by Hengist." Upon her tomb was inscribed, "in rude letters of massy gold," to quote the ancient chronicler, the initials R. G. and the date 600 A.D. In the Saxon annals Enfleda, the wife of Oswy, King of Northumbria, plays a conspicuous part. Soon after her marriage, Oswin, her husband's brother, consequently her cousin and brother-in-law, was slain. The queen caused a monastery to be erected on the spot where he fell as a reparation for her husband's fratricide, and as a propitiation for the soul of the departed. This circumstance is alluded to by more than one English poet, as also the monastery which Enfleda, for the same purpose, caused to be erected at Tynemouth. Thus Harding: "Queen Enfled, that was King Oswy's wife, King Edwin, his daughter, full of goodnesse, For Oswyn's soule a minster, in her life, Made at Tynemouth, and for Oswy causeless That hym so bee slaine and killed helpeless; For she was kin to Oswy and Oswin, As Bede in chronicle dooeth determyn." The most eminent Catholic poet of our own day, Sir Aubrey de Vere, in his Saxon legends, likewise refers to it. He describes first what "Gentlest form kneels on the rain-washed ground, From Giling's Keep a stone's throw. Whose those hands Now pressed in anguish on a bursting heart. ... What purest mouth "Presses a new-made grave, and through the blades Of grass wind shaken, breathes her piteous prayer? ... Oswin's grave it is, And she that o'er it kneels is Eanfleda, Kinswoman of the noble dead, and wife To Oswin's murderer--Oswy." Again, describing the repentance of Oswy: "One Winter night From distant chase belated he returned, And passed by Oswin's grave. The snow, new fallen, Whitened the precinct. In the blast she knelt, She heard him not draw nigh. She only beat Her breast, and, praying, wept. Our sin! our sin! "So came to him those words. They dragged him down: He knelt beside his wife, and beat his breast, And said, 'My sin! my sin!' Till earliest morn Glimmered through sleet that twain wept on, prayed on:-- Was it the rising sun that lit at last The fair face upward lifted? ....... Aloud she cried, 'Our prayer is heard: our penitence finds grace.' Then added: 'Let it deepen till we die. A monastery build we on this grave: So from this grave, while fleet the years, that prayer Shall rise both day and night, till Christ returns To judge the world,--a prayer for him who died; A prayer for one who sinned, but sins no more!'" In the grant preserved in the Bodleian Collection, wherein Editha the Good, the widow of Edward the Confessor, confers certain lands upon the Church of St. Mary at Sarum, occurs the following: "I, Editha, relict of King Edward, give to the support of the Canons of St. Mary's Church, in Sarum, the lands of Secorstan, in Wiltshire, and those of Forinanburn, to the Monastery of Wherwell, for the support of the nuns serving God there, with the rights thereto belonging, for the soul of King Edward." [1] [Footnote 1: "Phillips' Account of Old Sarum."] This queen was buried in Westminster Abbey, her remains being removed from the north to the south side of St. Edward's shrine, on the rebuilding of that edifice, and it is recorded that Henry III. ordered a lamp to be kept burning perpetually at the tomb of Editha the Good. It is related of the celebrated Lady Godiva of Coventry, the wife of the wealthy and powerful Leofric, that on her death-bed she "bequeathed a precious circlet of gems, which she wore round her neck, valued at one hundred marks of silver (about two thousand pounds sterling) to the Image of the Virgin in Coventry Abbey, praying that all who came thither would say as many prayers as there were gems in it." [1] [Footnote 1: Saxon Chronicle, Strickland's "Queens of England Before the Conquest, etc."] The following is an ancient verse, occurring in an old French treatise, on the manner of behaving at table, wherein one is warned never to arise from a meal without praying for the dead. This treatise was translated by William Caxton. "Priez Dieu pour les trepassés, Et te souveigne en pitié Qui de ce monde sont passez, Ainsi que tu es obligez, Priez Dieu pour les trepassés!" [We subjoin a rough translation of the verse. To God, for the departed, pray And of those in pity think Who have passed from this world away, As, indeed, thou art bound to do, To God, for the departed pray.] Speaking of his early education, Caxton says: "Whereof I humbly and heartily thank God, and am bounden to pray for my father and mother's souls, who in my youth set me to school." [1] [Footnote 1: "Christian Schools and Scholars."] In 1067, William the Conqueror founded what was known as Battle Abbey, which he gave to the Benedictine Monks, that they might pray for the souls of those who fell in the Battle of Hastings. Speaking of William the. Conqueror, it is not out of place to quote here these lines from the pen of Mrs. Hemans: "Lowly upon his bier The royal Conqueror lay, Baron and chief stood near, Silent in war's array. Down the long minster's aisle Crowds mutely gazing stream'd, Altar and tomb the while Through mists of incense gleamed. "They lowered him with the sound Of requiems to repose." These stanzas on the Burial of William the Conqueror lead us naturally to others from the pen of the same gifted authoress on "Coeur de Lion at the Bier of his Father." "Torches were blazing clear, Hymns pealing deep and slow, Where a king lay stately on his bier, In the Church of Fontevraud. * * * * * "The marble floor was swept By many a long dark stole As the kneeling priests, round him that slept, Sang mass for the parted soul. And solemn were the strains they pour'd Through the stillness of the night, With the cross above, and the crown and sword, And the silent king in sight." We forgive the ignorance of the gentle poetess with regard to the Mass, for the beauty and solemnity of the verse, which is quite in keeping with the nature of the subject. We read, again, of tapers being lit at the tomb of Henry V., the noble and chivalrous Henry of Monmouth, for one hundred years after his death. The Reformation extinguished that gentle flame with many another holy fire, both in England and throughout Christendom. We shall now pass on to another period--a far different and most troublous one of English history, that of the Reformation. In the Church of St. Lawrence at Iswich is an entry of an offering made to "pray for the souls of Robert Wolsey and his wife Joan, the father and mother of the Dean of Lincoln," thereafter to be Cardinal and Chancellor of the Kingdom. An argument urged to show the Protestantism of Collet, one of the ante-Reformation worthies, is that he "did not make a Popish will, having left no monies for Masses for his soul; which shows that he did not believe in Purgatory." The dying prayer of Sir Thomas More concludes with these words: "Give me a longing to be with Thee; not for avoiding the calamities of this wicked world, nor so much the pains of Purgatory or of hell; nor so much for the attaining of the choice of heaven, in respect of mine own commodity, as even for a very love of Thee." The unfortunate Anne Boleyn, who during her imprisonment had repented and received the last sacraments from the hands of Father Thirlwall, begs on the scaffold that the people may pray for her. In her address to her ladies before leaving the Tower, she concludes it by begging them to forget her not after death. "In your prayers to the Lord Jesus forget not to pray for my soul." In the account of the death of another of King Henry's wives, the Lady Jane Seymour, who died, as Miss Strickland says, after having all the rites of the Catholic Church administered to her, we read that Sir Richard Gresham thus writes to Lord Cromwell: "I have caused twelve hundred Masses to be offered up for the soul of our most gracious Queen.... I think it right that there should also be a solemn dirge and high Mass, and that the mayor and aldermen should pray and offer up divers prayers for Her Grace's soul." Anne of Cleves some two years before her death likewise embraced the Catholic faith. At her funeral Mass was sung by Bonner, Bishop of London, and many monks and seculars attended her obsequies. The infamous Thomas Cromwell, converted, as it seems evident from contemporary witnesses, on his death-bed, left what might be called truly a "Popish will." After bequeathing money or effects to various relatives and friends, he speaks of charity "works for the health of my soul." "I will," he says, "that my executors shall sell said farm (Carberry), and the money thereof to be employed in deeds of charity, to prayer for my soul and all Christian souls." Item. "I will mine executors shall conduct and hire a priest, being an honest person of continent and good living, to sing (pray) for my soul for the space of seven years next after my death." Item. "I give and bequeath to every one of the five orders of Friars within the Citie of London, to pray for my soul, twenty shillings. ..." He further bequeaths £20 to be distributed amongst "poor householders, to pray for his soul." In this he closely resembled his royal master, Henry VIII., who ordained that Masses should be said "for his soul's health while the world shall endure." And after his death it was agreed that the obsequies should be conducted according to the observance of the Catholic Church. Church-bells tolled and Masses were celebrated daily throughout London. In the Privy Chamber, where the corpse was laid, "lights and Divine service were said about him, with Masses, obsequies, etc." After the body was removed to the chapel it was kept there twelve days, with "Masses and dirges sung and said everyday." Norroy, king at arms, stood each day at the choir door, saying: "Of your charity pray for the soul of the high and mighty prince, our late sovereign lord and king, Henry VIII." When the body was lowered into the grave we read of a _De Profundis_ being read over it. God grant it was not all a solemn mockery, this praying for the soul of him who was styled "the first Protestant King of England," and who by his crimes separated England from the unity of Christendom! May these "Popish practices," which were amongst those he in his ordinances condemned, have availed him in that life beyond the grave, whither he went to give an account of his stewardship! The Catholic Queen, Mary, after her accession to the throne, caused a requiem Mass to be sung in Tower Chapel for her brother, Edward the Sixth. Elizabeth, in her turn, had Mary buried with funeral hymn and Mass, and caused a solemn dirge and Mass of Requiem to be chanted for the soul of the Emperor Charles V. With this period of spiritual anarchy and desolation we shall take our leave of England, passing on to pause for an instant to observe the peculiar _cultus_ of the dead in Corsica. It is represented by some writers as being similar to that which prevailed amongst the Romans. But as a traveller remarks, "it is a curious relic of paganism, combined with Christian usages." Thus the dirge sung by women, their wild lamenting, their impassioned apostrophizing of the dead, their rhetorical declamation of his virtues, finds its analogy among many of the customs of pagan nations, while the prayer for the dead, "the relatives standing about the bed of death reciting the Rosary," the Confraternity of the Brothers of the Dead coming to convey the corpse to the church, where Mass is sung and the final absolution given, is eminently Christian and Catholic. In the Norwegian annals we read how Olaf the Saint, on the occasion of one of his battles, gave many marks of silver for the souls of his enemies who should fall in battle. A traveller in Mexico relates the following: "I remember to have seen," he says, "on the high altar of the dismantled church of Yanhuitlan a skull as polished as ivory, which bore on the forehead the following inscription in Spanish: 'Io soy Jesus Pedro Sandoval; un Ave Maria y un Padre Nuestro, por Dios, hermanos!' [1] [Footnote 1: Ferdinand Gregorovius, "Wanderings in Corsica," translated by Alexander Muir.] 'I am Jesus Pedro Sandoval; a Hail Mary and an Our Father for the love of God, my brother.' "I cannot conceive," he continues, "anything more heart-rending than the great silent orbs of this dead man staring me fixedly in the face, whilst his head, bared by contact with the grave, sadly implored my prayers." [1] [Footnote 1: "Deux Ans au Mexique," Faucher de St. Maurice.] It would be impossible to conclude our _olla podrida_, if I may venture on the expression, of historical lore, relating to the dead, without referring, however briefly, to the two great deaths, and consequently the magnificent obsequies which have marked this very year of 1885, in which we write. Those of Archbishop Bourget, of Montreal, and of His Eminence, Cardinal McCloskey, of New York. They were both expressions of national sorrow, and the homage paid by sorrowing multitudes to true greatness. On the 10th of June, 1885, the venerable Archbishop Bourget died at Sault-au-Recollet, and was brought on the following morning to the Church of Notre Dame, Montreal. The days that ensued were all days of Requiem. Psalms were sung, and the office of the dead chanted by priests of all the religious orders in succession, by the various choirs of the city, by the secular clergy, and by lay societies. Archbishops and bishops sang high Mass with all the pomp of our holy ritual, and the prayers of the poor for him who had been their benefactor, mingled with those of the highest in the land, and followed the beloved remains from the bed of death whence they were taken down into the funeral vault. On the 10th of October, 1885, His Eminence the Cardinal Archbishop of New York passed peacefully away, amidst the grief of the whole community, both Protestant and Catholic. Again, there was a very ovation of prayer. The obsequies were marked by a splendor such as, according to a contemporary journal, had never before attended any ecclesiastical demonstration on this side of the water. The clergy, secular and religious, formed one vast assemblage, while layman vied with layman in showing honor to the dead, and in praying for the soul's repose. "All that man could do," says a prominent Catholic journal, "to bring honor to his bier was done, and in honor and remembrance his memory remains. All that Mother Church could offer as suffrage for his soul has been offered." That is wherein the real beauty of it all consists. Honor to the great dead may, it is true, be the splendid expression of national sentiment. But in the eyes of faith it is meaningless. Other great men, deservedly honored by the nations, have passed away during this same year, but where was the prayer, accompanying them to the judgment-seat, assisting them in that other life, repairing their faults, purging away sins or imperfections? The grandeur that attended Mgr. Bourget's burial and Cardinal McCloskey's obsequies consisted chiefly in that vast symphony of prayer, which arose so harmoniously, and during so many days, for their soul's welfare. Devotion to the dead, as we have seen, exists everywhere, is everywhere dear to the hearts of the people, from those first early worshippers, who, in the dawn of Christianity, in the dimness of the Catacombs prayed for the souls of their brethren in Christ, begging that they might "live in God," that God might refresh them, down through the ages to our own day, increasing as it goes in fervor and intensity. We meet with its records, written boldly, so to say, on the brow of nations, or in out-of-the-way corners, down among the people, in the littleness and obscurity of humble domestic annals. In the earliest liturgies, in the most ancient sacramentaries, there is the prayer for "refreshment, light, and peace," as it is now found in the missals used at the daily sacrifice, on the lips of the priest, in the prayers of the humblest and most unlettered petitioner. It is the "low murmur of the vale," changing, indeed, at times into the thunder on the mountain tops, amazing the unbelieving world which stands aloof and stares, as in the instances but lately quoted, or existing forgotten, and overlooked by them, but no less deep and solemn. It is a _Requiem Æternam_ pervading all time, and ceasing only with time itself, when the Eternity of rest for the Church Militant has begun. PRAYER FOR THE DEAD IN THE ANGLO-SAXON CHURCH. DR. LINGARD. The Anglo-Saxons had inherited from their teachers the practice of prayer for the dead--a practice common to every Christian Church which dates its origin from any period before the Reformation. It was not that they pretended to benefit by their prayers the blessed in heaven, or the reprobate in hell; but they had never heard of the doctrine which teaches that "every soul of man, passing out of the body, goeth immediately to one or other of those places" (Book of Homilies. Hom. VII. On Prayer). And therefore assuming that God will render to all according to their works, they believed that the souls of men dying in a state of less perfect virtue, though they might not be immediately admitted to the supreme felicity of the saints, would not, at least, be visited with the everlasting punishment of the wicked. [1] It was for such as these that they prayed, that if they were in a state of imperfect happiness, that happiness might be augmented; if in a state of temporary punishment, the severity of that punishment might be mitigated; and this they hoped to obtain from the mercy of God, in consideration of their prayers, fasts, and alms, and especially of the "oblation of the most Holy Victim in the Sacrifice of the Mass." [Footnote 1: "Some souls proceed to rest after their departure; some go to punishment for that which they have done, and are often released by alms-deeds, but chiefly through the Mass, if it be offered for them; others are condemned to hell with the devil." (Serm. ad. Pop. in Oct. Pent.) "There be many places of punishment, in which souls suffer in proportion to their guilt before the general judgment, so that some of them are fully cleansed, and have nothing to suffer in that fire of the last day." (Hom. apud. Whelock, p. 386.)] This was a favorite form of devotion with our ancestors. It came to them recommended by the practice of all antiquity; it was considered an act of the purest charity on behalf of those who could no longer pray for themselves; it enlisted in its favor the feelings of the survivor, who was thus enabled to intercede with God for his nearest and dearest friends, and it opened at the same time to the mourner a source of real consolation in the hour of bereavement and distress. It is true, indeed, that the petitioners knew not the state of the departed soul; he might be incapable of receiving any benefit from their prayers, but they reasoned, with St. Augustine, that, even so, the piety of their intentions would prove acceptable to God. When Alcuin heard that Edilthryde, a noble Saxon lady, lamented most bitterly the death of her son, he wrote to her from his retreat at Tours, in the following terms:--"Mourn not for him whom you cannot recall. If he be of God, instead of grieving that you have lost him, rejoice that he is gone to rest before you. Where there are two friends, I hold the death of the first preferable to that of the second, because the first leaves behind him one whose brotherly love will intercede for him daily, and whose tears will wash away the frailties of his life in this world. Be assured that your pious solicitude for the soul of your son will not be thrown away. It will benefit both you and him--you, because you exercise acts of hope and charity; him, because such acts will tend either to mitigate his sufferings, or to add to his happiness." [Footnote 1: Ep. Cli Tom. I, p. 212.] But they did not only pray for others, they were careful to secure for themselves, after their departure, the prayers of their friends. This they frequently solicited as a favor or recompense, and for this they entered into mutual compacts by which the survivor was bound to perform certain works of piety or charity for the soul of the deceased. Thus Beda begs of the monks of Lindisfarne that, at his death, they will offer prayers and Masses for him as one of their own body; thus Alcuin calls upon his former scholars at York to remember him in their prayers when it shall please God to withdraw him from this world; and thus in the multifarious correspondence of St. Boniface, the apostle of Germany, and of Lullus, his successor in the See of Mentz, both of them Anglo-Saxons, with their countrymen, prelates, abbots, thanes, and princes, we meet with letters the only object of which is to renew their previous engagements, and to transmit the names of their defunct associates. It is "our earnest wish," say the King of Kent and the Bishop of Rochester in their common letter to Lullus, "to recommend ourselves and our dearest relatives to your piety, that by your prayers we may be protected till we come to that life which knows no end. For what have we to do on earth but faithfully to exercise charity towards each other? Let us then agree, that when any among us enter the path which leads to another life (may it be a life of happiness), the survivors shall, by their alms and sacrifices, endeavor to assist him in his journey. We have sent you the names of our deceased relations, Irmige, Vorththry, and Dulicha, virgins dedicated to God, and beg that you will remember them in your prayers and oblations. On a similar occasion we will prove our gratitude by imitating your charity." Such covenants were not confined to the clergy, or to persons in the higher ranks of life. England, at this period, was covered with "gilds," or associations of townsmen and neighbors, not directly for religious purposes, but having a variety of secular objects in view,-- such as the promotion of trade and commerce, the preservation of property and the prosecution of thieves, the legal defence of the members against oppression, and the recovery of bots, or penalties, to which they were entitled; but whatever might be their chief object, all imposed one common obligation, that of accompanying the bodies of f the deceased members to the grave, of paying the soul-shot for them at their interment, and of distributing alms for the repose of their souls. As a specimen of such engagements, I may here translate a portion of the laws established in the gild at Abbotsbury. "If," says the legislator, "any one belonging to this association chance to die, each member shall pay one penny for the good of the soul, before the body be laid in the grave. If he neglect, he shall be fined in a triple sum. If any of us fall sick within sixty miles, we engage to find fifteen men, who may bring him home; but if he die first, we will send thirty to convey him to the place in which he desired to be buried. If he die in the neighborhood, the steward shall inquire where he is to be interred, and shall summon as many members as he can to assemble, attend the corpse in an honorable manner, carry it to the minster, and pray devoutly for the soul. Let us act in this manner, and we shall truly perform the duty of our confraternity. This will be honorable to us both before God and man. For we know not who among us may die first; but we believe that, with the assistance of God, this agreement will profit us all if it be rightly observed." But the clerical and monastic bodies inhabiting the more celebrated monasteries offered guildships of a superior description. Among them the service for the dead was performed with greater solemnity; the rules of the institute insured the faithful performance of the duty; and additional value was ascribed to their prayers on account of the sanctity of the place and the virtue of its inmates. Hence it became an object with many to obtain admission among the brotherhood in quality of honorary associates; an admission which gave them the right to the same spiritual benefits after death to which the professed members were entitled. Such associates were of two classes. To some the favor was conceded on account of their reputation for piety or learning; to others it was due on account of their benefactions. Instances of both abound in the Anglo-Saxon records. Beda, though a monk at Jarrow, procured his name to be entered for this purpose on the bead-roll of the monks at Lindisfarne; and Alcuin, though a canon at Tours, in France, had obtained a similar favor from the monks at Jarrow. It belonged, of right, to the founders of churches, to those who had made to them valuable benefactions, [1] or had rendered to them important services, or had bequeathed to them a yearly rent charge [2] for that purpose. [Footnote 1: When Osulf, ealdorman, by the grace of God, gave the land at Stanhamstede to Christ Church, he most humbly prayed that he and his wife, Beornthrythe, might be admitted "into the fellowship of God's servants there, and of their lords who had been, and of those who had given lands to the Church."--Cod. Dipl. I. 292. The following is an instance of a rent charge given by Ealburge and Eadwald to Christ Church for themselves, and for Ealred and Ealwyne forty ambres of malt, two hundred loaves, one wey, &c, &c.; "and I, Ealburge," she adds, "command my son Ealwyne, in the name of God, and of all the saints, that he perform this duty in his day, and then command his heirs to perform it as long as Christendom shall endure."] [Footnote 2: I Monast. Ang. i. 278. A similar regulation is found among the laws of the gild in London. "And ye have ordained respecting every man who has given his 'wed' in our gildships, if he should die, that each gild brother shall give a 'genuine loaf' for his soul, and sing a ditty, or get it sung, within thirty days."--Thorpe's Laws of London Gilds.] Of all these individuals an exact catalogue was kept; the days of their decease [1] were carefully noted, and on their anniversaries a solemn service of Masses and psalmody was yearly performed. [2] It may be easily conceived that to men of timorous and penitent minds this custom would afford much consolation. However great might be their deficiencies, yet they hoped that their good works would survive them; they had provided for the service of the Almighty a race of men, whose virtues they might in one respect call their own, and who were bound, by the strongest ties, to be their daily advocate at the throne of divine mercy. [3] Such were the sentiments of Alwyn, the caldorman of East Anglia, and one of the founders of Ramsey. Warned by frequent infirmities of his approaching death, he repaired, attended by his sons Edwin and Ethelward, to the abbey. The monks were speedily assembled. "My beloved," said he, "you will soon lose your friend and protector. My strength is gone: I am stolen from myself. But I am not afraid to die. When life grows tedious death is welcome. To-day I shall confess before you the many errors of my life. Think not that I wish to solicit a prolongation of my existence. My request is that you protect my departure by your prayers, and place your merits in the balance against my defects. When my soul shall have quitted my body, honor your father's corpse with a decent funeral, grant him a constant share in your prayers, and recommend his memory to the charity and gratitude of your successors." At the conclusion of his address the aged thane threw himself on the pavement before the altar, and, with a voice interrupted by frequent sighs, publicly confessed the sins of his past years, and earnestly implored the mercies of his Redeemer.... He exhorted the brethren to a punctual observance of their rule, and forbade his sons, under their father's malediction, to molest them in possession of the lands which he had bestowed on the abbey.... Within a few weeks he died, his body was interred with proper solemnity in the Church; and his memory was long cherished with gratitude by the monks of Ramsey. [4] [Footnote 1: According to Wanly there is in the Cotton Library (Dom. A. 7) of the reign of Athelstan, in which the names of the chief benefactors of the Church of Lindisfarne are written in letters of gold and silver, which catalogue was afterwards continued, but not in the same manner (Wanly, 249). This is probably the same book which was published in 1841 by the Surtees Society, under the name of _Liber Vitæ Ecclesiæ Dunelmensis_. It contains the names of all the benefactors of St. Cuthbert's Church from its foundation, and lay constantly on the altar for upwards of six centuries.] [Footnote 2: According to Wanly there is in the Cotton Library (Dom. A. 7) of the reign of Athelstan, in which the names of the chief benefactors of the Church of Lindisfarne are written in letters of gold and silver, which catalogue was afterwards continued, but not in the same manner (Wanly, 249). This is probably the same book which was published in 1841 by the Surtees Society, under the name of _Liber Vitæ Ecclesiæ Dunelmensis_. It contains the names of all the benefactors of St. Cuthbert's Church from its foundation, and lay constantly on the altar for upwards of six centuries.] [Footnote 3: Thus when Leofric established canons in the Church of Exeter, he made them several valuable presents, on condition that, in their prayers and Masses, they should always remember his soul, "that it might be the more pleasing to God." Monas. Ang. tom i. p. 222.] [Footnote 4: Hist. Rames, p. 427.] There were three kinds of good works usually performed for the benefit of the dead: One consisted in the distribution of charity. To the money, which the deceased, if he were in opulent or in easy circumstances, bequeathed for that purpose, an addition was often made by the contributions of his relatives and friends. Large sums were often distributed in this manner. King Alfred the Great says in his will: "Let there be given for me, and for my father, and for the friends that he prayed for, and that I pray for, two hundred pounds; fifty among the Mass-priests throughout my kingdom; fifty among the servants of God that are in need, fifty among lay paupers, and fifty to the church in which my body shall rest." [1] Archbishop Wulfred in his will, (an. 831) made provision for the permanent support and clothing of twenty-seven paupers, out of the income from certain manors which, at his own cost and labor, he had recovered for the Church of Canterbury. Frequently the testator bequeathed a yearly dole of money and provisions to the poor on the anniversary of his death. Thus the clergy of Christ-church gave away one hundred and twenty suffles, or cakes of fine flour, on the anniversaries of each of their lords, by which word we are probably to understand archbishops; but Wulfred was not content with his accustomed charity; he augmented it tenfold on his own anniversary, having bequeathed a loaf, a certain quantity of cheese, and a silver penny to be delivered to twelve hundred poor persons on that day. Of such dole some vestiges still remain in certain parts of the kingdom. [Footnote 1: Cod Diplom (double S?) i. 115.] Another species of charity, at the death of the upper ranks, was the grant of freedom to a certain number of slaves, whose poverty, to render the gift more valuable, was relieved with a handsome present. In the Council of Calcuith, it was unanimously agreed that each prelate at his death should bequeath the tenth part of his personal property to the poor, and set at liberty all bondmen of English descent, whom the Church had acquired during his administration; and that each bishop and abbot who survived him, should manumit three of his slaves, and give three shillings to each, for the benefit of the soul of the deceased prelate. The devotions in behalf of the dead consisted in the frequent repetition of the Lord's Prayer, technically called a belt of Paternosters, which was in use with private individuals, ignorant of the Latin tongue; 2d, in the chanting of a certain number of psalms, generally fifty, terminating with the collect for the dead, during which collect all knelt down, and then repeated the anthem in Latin or English: "According to Thy great mercy give rest to his soul, O Lord, and of Thine infinite bounty grant to him eternal light in the company of the saints;" [1] 3d, in the sacrifice of the Mass, which was offered as soon as might be after death, again on the third day, and afterwards as often as was required by the solicitude of the relatives or friends of the deceased. No sooner had St. Wilfred expired than Talbert, to whom he had intrusted the government of his monastery at Ripon, ordered a Mass to be celebrated, and alms to be distributed daily for his soul. On his anniversary the abbots of all the monasteries founded by Wilfred were summoned to attend; they spent the preceding night in watching and prayer, on the following morning a solemn Mass was performed, and then the tenth part of the cattle belonging to the monastery was distributed among the neighboring poor. [Footnote 1: On the death of St. Guthlade, his sister Pega recommended his soul to God, and sang psalms for that purpose during three days.] In like manner we find the ealdorman Osulf, "for the redemption and health of his own soul, and of his wife, Beornthrythe," giving certain lands to the Church of Liming, in Kent, under the express condition that "every twelve months afterwards, the day of their departure out of this life should be kept with fasting and prayer to God, in psalmody and the celebration of Masses." It would appear that some doubt existed with respect to the exact meaning of this condition; and a few years later the archbishop, to set the question at rest, pronounced the following decree: "Wherefore I order that the godly deeds following be performed for their souls at the tide of their anniversary; that every Mass priest celebrate two Masses for the soul of Osulf, and two for Beornthrythe's soul; that every deacon read two passions (the narratives of our Lord's sufferings in the gospels) for his soul, and two for hers; and each of God's servants (the inferior members of the brotherhood) two fifties" (fifty psalms) "for his soul, two for hers; that as you in the world are blessed with worldly goods through them, so they may be blessed with godly goods through you." It should, however, be observed, that such devotions were not confined to the anniversaries of the dead. In many, perhaps in all, of these religious establishments, the whole community on certain days walked, at the conclusion of the matin service, in procession to the cemetery, and there chanted the dirge over the graves of their deceased brethren and benefactors. Respecting these practices some most extraordinary opinions have occasionally been hazarded. We have been told that the custom of praying for the dead was no part of the religious system originally taught to the Anglo-Saxons, that it was not generally received for two centuries after their conversion, and that it probably took its rise "from a mistaken charity, continuing to do for the departed what it was only lawful to do for the living." To this supposition it may be sufficient to reply, that it is supported by no reference to ancient authority, but contradicted in every page of Anglo-Saxon history. Others have admitted the universal prevalence of the practice, but have discovered that it originated in the interested views of the clergy, who employed it as a constant source of emolument, and laughed among themselves at the easy faith of their disciples. But this opinion is subject to equal difficulties with the former. It rests on no ancient testimony: it is refuted by the conduct of the ancient clergy. No instance is to be found of any one of these conspirators as they are represented, who in an unguarded moment, or of any false brother who, in the peevishness of discontent, revealed the secret to the ears of their dupes. On the contrary, we see them in their private correspondence holding to each other the same language which they held to their disciples; requesting from each other those prayers which we are told that they mutually despised, and making pecuniary sacrifices during life to purchase what, if their accusers be correct, they deemed an illusory assistence after death. A SINGULAR FRENCH CUSTOM. Vernon is perhaps the only town in France wherein the ancient custom of which we are about to speak still exists. When a death occurs, an individual, robed in a mortuary tunic, adorned with cross-bones and tear-drops, goes through the streets with a small bell in either hand, the sound of which is sharp and penetrating; at every place where the streets cross each other, he rings his bells three times, crying out in a doleful voice: "Such-a-one, belonging to the Confraternity of St. Roch, or the Confraternity of St. Sebastian, &c., &c., is recommended to your prayers. He is dead. The funeral will take place at such-an- hour." Then he rings again three times. The first Sunday of each month arrives. Then, at the dawn of day the same individual goes again through the town, ringing continuously, knocking thrice at the door of each member of the confraternity, and stopping at the corners of the streets, he sings: "Good people," or "good souls, who sleep, awake! awake! pray for the dead! &c."--_Voix de la Verité_, July 22, 1846. DEVOTION TO THE HOLY SOULS AMONGST THE EARLY ENGLISH. ANNA T. SADLIER. An English writer, the gifted author of the Knights of St. John, makes the following assertion as regards the people of her own nationality: "Our Catholic ancestors," she says, "are said to have been distinguished above all other nations for their devotion towards the dead; and it harmonizes with one feature in our national character, namely, that gravity and attraction to things of solemn and pathetic interest which, uncontrolled by the influence of faith, degenerates even into melancholy." In view of this assertion, it will be interesting to spend a few moments in gathering up the links of this most ancient and most touching devotion, amongst a people who have collectively, as it were, fallen away from grace. It is therefore our purpose to look backwards into that solemn and beautiful past of which heretical England can boast, and behold her, as Carlyle beheld her in his "Past and Present," offering to the world the sublime spectacle of a people devout and faithful, undisturbed by doubt, tranquilized by the harmonious influence of religion, and unharassed by the spirit of so called philosophic inquiry, which, misdirected, is the true bane of English society at the present day. This retrospection, as we shall have occasion later on to recur to the subject of devotion to the dead in England, must necessarily be both brief and cursory. But even the merest outlines are of interest, for they prove that prayer for the departed was no less the favorite devotion of the learned than of the simple, and that it had its home in those ancient seats of learning, Oxford and Cambridge and their dependencies, from the very hour of their foundation. Of the Founder of Oxford, it is said, that prayer for the dead was one of his devotions of predilection. It is not necessary here for us to follow him, the great and good William of Wykeham, Bishop of Winchester, and subsequently Lord Chancellor of England, in the gradual unfoldings of that project of founding a University, so dear to him from almost the moment of his elevation to the episcopate. Suffice that in the March of 1379, he laid the corner-stone of "St. Marie's College of Winchester, Oxenford." It is with his great charity towards the Holy Souls that we are at present concerned, and of this we have ample proof in the testimonies of his biographers. Here is one of them, in the paragraph which follows: "There was another devotion which was most dearly cherished by Wykeham, and which is an equal indication of the singular _spirituality_ of his mind,--we mean, that for the suffering souls in Purgatory. It may be safely affirmed, that this devotion, so unselfish and unearthly in its tendencies, carrying us beyond the grave, and making us familiar with the secrets of the unseen world, could never find a place in the heart of one who was engrossed by secular cares, or the love of money. Its existence in any marked and special degree argues in the soul of its possessor a profound sense of sin, a deep compassion for the sufferings of others, and a habit of dwelling on the thoughts of death, judgment, and eternity. Moreover, it is utterly opposed to anything of that mercenary or commercial spirit which exists among men of the world, who like to see some large practical result even in matters of devotion. We pray, and are sensible of no return; we spend our money in a Requiem Mass, and there is nothing but trust in God's word, and God's fidelity, to assure us that the money is not thrown away. Every _De Profundis_ that we say is as much an act of faith as it is an act of charity; and it has its reward. We do not speak merely of the benefit reaped by the souls of the faithful departed; but who can measure the effect of this devotion on a man's own soul, bringing him (as it does) into communion with the world of spirits, and realizing to him the worth of Christian suffering, and the awful purity of God?"... Wykeham's heart was full of compassion for suffering, and the dead shared his charity with the living. Never did he offer the Holy Sacrifice for the departed without abundant tears. His reverence for the Holy Mysteries, and the singular devotion with which he celebrated, are often referred to by those who have written his life; one of whom, after speaking of his various charities, thus continues: "Not only did he, as we have said, offer his goods, but also his very self, as a lively sacrifice to God, and hence, in the solemn celebration of Mass, and chiefly at that part where there is made a special memorial of the living and the dead, he was wont to shed many tears out of the humility of his heart, reputing himself unworthy, as he was wont to express it in speaking to his secretary, to perform such an office, or to handle the most sublime mysteries of the Church." From the same biographer we add to the foregoing a further testimony as to what a hold this devotion of predilection had taken upon the soul of the Founder of Oxford: "Among his charities we accordingly find a great many which were solely directed to the relief of the suffering souls. Wykeham's benevolence had in it one admirable feature: it was not left to be carried out after his death by his executors, but all his great acts of munificence were performed in his own lifetime. One of his first cares, after his accession to the See of Winchester, was to found a chantry in the Priory of Southwyke, near Wykeham, for the repose of the souls of his father and mother and sister, who were buried within the priory church; and in all his after foundations provisions were made for the continual remembrance of the dead; and (ever grateful to his early friends) King Edward III., the Black Prince, and King Richard II. were all commended to the charity of those who, as they prayed for Wykeham, were charged at the same time to pray for the souls of his benefactors." In Winchester we read, also, of the College of the Holy Trinity, endowed as a "carnarie," or charnel-house, of the city. The chief duties of the priests belonging to the chantry attached thereto were to bury the dead, and keep up perpetual Masses for the souls of the departed. Those Colleges of Winchester, with their simple beauty and grandeur of design, with their conventional rule of life, the singing of Matins, and the daily chanting of the divine office by chaplains and fellows, offer to us a very fair picture, indeed. But we observe that in the Masses sung with "note and chant," there is one specially mentioned for the souls of the founder's parents, and of all the faithful departed; a second for the souls of King Edward III., Queen Philippa, the Black Prince, Richard II., Queen Anne, and certain benefactors. On the 24th of July, 1403, the saintly Wykeham made his will. He directed that his body should be laid in a chantry which he had himself founded, and at the altar of which he was wont to offer up the Holy Sacrifice. He desired that on the day of his burial, "to every poor person coming to Winchester, and asking alms, for the love of God, and for the health of his soul, there should be given fourpence." Alms were likewise to be distributed in every place through which his body was to pass, and large provision was made for Masses and prayers for the repose of his soul. He had, besides, made an agreement with the monks of St. Swithin's, by which they were to offer three Masses daily for his parents and benefactors in the chantry chapel; the first of these was a Mass of Our Lady, to be said very early. The boys attached to the College were, moreover, to sing every night in perpetuity, either the _Salve Regina_ or _Ave Regina_, with a _De Profundis_ for his soul's repose. So, as the hour of his death drew near, he who had concerned himself through life with the souls of the departed, essayed to make provision for his own. Since that hour when he proceeded to the high altar of Winchester Cathedral, escorted by the Lord Prior of Winchester and the Abbot Hyde, to celebrate his first Pontifical Mass, the same constant memory of the dead had been with him, as when kneeling he prayed aloud for the soul of his predecessor, William de Edyndon, and bade the choir chant the _De Profundis_, while he himself recited the _Fidelium omnium conditor_. But leaving Oxford and its pious founder, we turn our gaze upon that ancient foundation of Eton, which was to serve as a preparatory school for the new establishment of King's College of Cambridge, which Henry had in contemplation. Henry, in his famous Eton charter, makes mention of his desire that this college shall be, as it were, a memorial of him, and be composed of clerks, "who," he says, "shall pray for our welfare whilst we live, and for our soul when we shall have departed this life." The Pope, Eugenius IV., afterwards granted a plenary indulgence to all who should visit the College Chapel of Our Lady of Eton, after Confession and Communion. Henry having visited the Colleges of Winchester, first met there with William Wayneflete, with whom he was to be united in so warm and beautiful a friendship. The "Master of Winton," as Wayneflete then was, is described as "simple, devout, and full of learning." But a short time after he was removed to Eton, and presently raised to the Provostship. Among many beautiful and pious customs, the memory of the dead was carefully preserved among the Eton scholars, and their verses on All Souls' Day were on the blessedness of those who die in the Lord. But Wayneflete is, of course, chiefly identified with Magdalen College, Oxford, said to be "the finest collegiate building in England," and of which he was the founder. It was, in truth, his dream, and one which he was destined to see realized. Here is neither the place nor time to dwell upon its beauties. The first stone was laid by the venerable Tybarte, its first president. He was buried in the middle of the inner chapel, and upon a cope, preserved among the ancient church vestments, is one upon which is worked the inscription, "_Orate pro anima Magistri Tybarte_." [1] [Footnote 1: Pray for the soul of Master Tybarte.] Among the rules and regulations of this new foundation was one which obliged the president, fellows, and scholars to recite, while dressing, certain prayers in honor of the Blessed Trinity, and a suffrage for the founder. Daily prayers were offered up for the repose of the souls of the founder's father and mother, "those of benefactors of the college, and for all the souls of the faithful departed." These suffrages were to be made by every one, at whatever hour of the day was most convenient. There were many foundations of Masses attached to this College of Magdalen. Of these daily Masses, offered at the six altars of the chapel, the early "Morrow Mass" was always said in the Arundel Chapel, for the soul of Lord Arundel, the chief benefactor of the institute. Another Mass was to be said every day for "souls of good memory," including, besides the two kings, Henry III. and Edward III., his dear and never forgotten friends, Henry VI., Lord Cromwell, and Sir John Fastolfe, as well as King Edward IV. Other Masses and prayers were said for other intentions. The founder was to be especially remembered every quarter. Every day, after High Mass, one of the demys was to say aloud in the chapel, "_Anima fundatoris nostri Willielmi, et animae omnium fidelium defunctorum, per miscricordiam Dei in pace requiescat._" [1] The same prayer was to be repeated in the hall after dinner and supper. [Footnote 1: "May the soul of our founder, William, and the souls of all the faithful departed, through the mercy of God, rest in peace."] But the life of the Founder of Magdalen, the great Bishop, was drawing to a close. We shall see by his will how firm his faith in that most Catholic of all doctrines--Purgatory. After various bequests, he left a certain portion of his property for Masses and alms-deeds for his own soul and the souls of his parents and friends. On the day of his burial, and on the thirtieth day from the time of his decease, and on other appointed days, his executors are charged to have 5,000 Masses said in honor of the Five Wounds of Christ, and the Five Joys of Mary-- his favorite devotions--for the same intention. His remains were buried at Winchester, in a tomb which he had prepared as a place of burial during his lifetime. His was, indeed, the third chantry chapel in Winchester, the others being those of his predecessor. This custom was common to all the great prelates of the time. They prepared a place of sepulture during their life, and there where they officiated at all solemn offices, and so frequently celebrated requiems for the departed, they knew that their remains were one day to be laid, and prayers and the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass to be offered for themselves. It was thus a constant reminder of death. A ceremony connected with Magdalen Tower seems likewise to have had its origin in this pious custom of remembrance of the dead. "On the 1st of May," says Anthony Wood, "the choral ministers of this house do, according to ancient custom, salute Flora from the top of the tower, at four in the morning, with vocal music of several parts." Of course, as a chronicler remarks, it was not to salute Flora that any Catholic choristers thus made vocal the sweet air of May. "The sweet music of Magdalen Tower," remarks the author of the Knights of St. John, "had a directly religious origin. On the 1st of May the society was wont annually to celebrate the obit or Requiem Mass of King Henry VII., who proved a generous benefactor to the College, and who is still commemorated as such upon that day. The requiem was not, indeed, celebrated _on the top of the tower_, as Mr. Chalmers, in his history of the university, affirms, in total ignorance that a _requiem_ is a Mass, and that a Mass must be said upon an altar; but it is probable that the choral service chanted on the 1st of May consisted originally of the _De Profundis_, or some other psalm, for the repose of Henry's soul, and as a special mark of gratitude." Some semblance of the old custom is still kept up, as ten pounds is still annually paid by the rectory of Slimbridge, in Gloucestershire, for the purpose of keeping up this ceremony. Such are a few brief glimpses of this belief in Purgatory, which was so dear to the hearts of Englishmen, in those centuries before the blight of heresy had fallen upon the Island of the Saints. These hints upon the subject are given very much at random, and will simply serve to show how prayer for the dead was a part of all Christian lives in those ages of faith. It was incorporated in the rules of every collegiate institute, and more especially those two most notable ones of Oxford and Cambridge. It entered into every man's calculations, and was provided for in every Will and Testament. Had it been in our power to go backwards, into a still more remote antiquity, it would have been our pleasant task to find this belief in suffrage for the dead taking so vigorous root in every heart. Do we not find the Venerable Bede, "the Father of English Learning," who was born in 673 and died in 734, asking that his name may be enrolled amongst the monks of the monastery founded by St. Aidan, in order that his soul after death might have a share in the Masses and prayers of that numerous community, as he tells us himself in his Preface to the Life of St. Cuthbert. "This pious anxiety," says Montalembert, "to assure himself of the help of prayer for his soul after death is apparent at every step in his letters. It imprints the last seal of humble and true Christianity on the character of the great philosopher, whose life was so full of interest, and whose last days have been revealed to us in minute detail by an eye-witness." [1] [Footnote 1: "Monks of the West," Vol v, p 89.] The passionate entreaties of Anselm, another of the shining lights of early Anglo-Saxon days, that the soul of his young disciple Osbern be remembered in prayers and Masses, proves what value he attached to suffrages for the departed: "I beg of you," he writes to his friend Gondulph, "of you and of all my friends, to pray for Osbern. His soul is my soul. All that you do for him during my life, I shall accept as if you had done it for me after my death. ... I conjure you for the third time, remember me, and forget not the soul of my well-beloved Osbern. And if I ask too much of you, then forget me and remember him.... The soul of my Osbern, ah! I beseech thee, give it no other place than in my bosom." And do we not read of those "prayers for souls," incessant and obligatory, which were identified with all the monastic habits--thanks to that devotion for the dead which received in a monastery its final and perpetual sanction. "They were not content," says Montalembert, "even with common and permanent prayer for the dead of each isolated monastery. By degrees, vast spiritual associations were formed among communities of the same order and the same country, with the aim of relieving by their reciprocal prayers the defunct members of each house. Rolls of parchment, transmitted by special messengers from cloister to cloister, received the names of those who had 'emigrated,' according to the consecrated expression, 'from this terrestrial light to Christ,' and served the purpose of a check and register to prevent defalcation in that voluntary impost of prayer which our fervent cenobites solicited in advance for themselves or for their friends." And, of course, this was many years, even centuries, before the Feast of All Souls was instituted by the Abbot Odilo and the monks of Cluny in 998. English history, like every other history, furnishes us, indeed, with innumerable traits of this pious devotion to the Holy Souls. Obviously, our space must prevent us from entering more deeply into the subject. May the few scattered hints we have been enabled to throw out be of interest and profit to our readers! DOCTRINE OF PURGATORY IN THE EARLY IRISH CHURCH. WALSH. [1] [Footnote 1: "Ecclesiastical History of Ireland." Rev J. Walsh.] Coerced by the unvarying as well as unequivocal testimony of our writers, our liturgies, our canons, Usher was obliged to admit that the ancient Irish had been in the constant practice of offering up the eucharistic sacrifice, and that Masses, termed _Requiem Masses_, used to be celebrated daily. So interwoven is the doctrine of the eucharistic sacrifice with the records of the nation, that the antiquarian himself should reject the antiquities of Ireland if he had ventured on the denial of this practice .... Admitting the practice of the ancient Irish Church, Usher strives to escape from the difficulty, as well as attempts to deceive his readers, by pretending that it had been only a sacrifice of thanksgiving, offered as such for those souls who were in possession of eternal happiness, and that it had not been believed or practiced in the ancient Irish Church as a propitiatory sacrifice. .... The ancient canons of the Irish Church as clearly point out as the firmament demonstrates the glory of God, the doctrine of our Church regarding the eucharistic sacrifice, as one of thanksgiving, and also one of propitiation. In an ancient canon contained in D'Achery's collection (lib. 2, cap. 20), the synod says: "The Church offers for the souls of the deceased in four ways--for the very good, the oblations are simply thanksgiving; for the very bad, they become consolations to the living; for such as were not very good, the oblations are made in order to obtain full remission; and for those who were not very bad, that their punishment may be rendered more tolerable." Here, then, is enunciated in plain terms, the doctrine of the eucharistic oblation being a propitiatory sacrifice. When offered for the first class of happy souls, it is an offering of thanksgiving. When offered for those whose lives were bad in the sight of Heaven, its oblation is a comfort to the faithful. When offered for those who were not very good or very bad, the object of its oblation was to render their state more tolerable, and that full pardon would be at length accorded. The framers of this canon give us also the doctrine of a middle state, as a tenet also believed by the Church of Ireland. Another canon, still more ancient, and which is reckoned among those of St. Patrick, is entitled "Of the Oblation for the Dead." This canon is couched in the following words: "There is a sin unto death, I do not say that for it any do pray." This sin is final impenitence. The ancient Irish Missal, "the _Cursus Scotorum"_ contains an oration for the dead: "Grant, O Lord, to him, Thy servant, deceased, the pardon of all his sins, in that secret abode where there is no longer room for penance. Do Thou, O Christ, receive the soul of Thy servant, which Thou hast given, and forgive him his trespasses more abundantly than he has forgiven those who have trespassed against him." An oration is also given for the living and the dead: "Propitiously grant that this sacred oblation may be profitable to the dead in obtaining pardon, and to the living, in obtaining salvation; grant to them (living and dead) the full remission of all their sins, and that indulgence they have always deserved." The liturgy usually called _"Cursus Scotorum"_ was that which had been first brought to Ireland by St,. Patrick, and was the only one that had been used, until about the close of the sixth century. About this period the Gallican liturgy, _"Cursus Gallorum"_ was, it is probable, introduced into Ireland. The _"Cursus Scotorum"_ is supposed to have been the liturgy originally drawn up and used by St. Mark the evangelist; it was afterwards followed by St. Gregory Nazianzen, St. Basil, and other Greek Fathers; then by Cassian, Honoratus, St. Cassarius of Aries, St. Lupus of Troyes, and St. Germaine of Auxerre, from whom St. Patrick received it, when setting out on his mission to Ireland. A copy of the "_Cursus Scotorum_" was found by Mabillon, in the ancient monastery of Bobbio, of which St. Columbanus was founder, and which missal that learned writer believes to have been written at least one thousand years before his time. ... It contains two Masses for the dead; one a general Mass, and the other "_Missa Sacerdotis defuncti_" (Mass for a deceased priest). PRINCE NAPOLEON'S PRAYER. This prayer, in the handwriting of the Prince Imperial, was found among the papers in his desk at Camden Palace. In publishing it the Morning Post adds: "The elucidation of his character alone justifies the publication of such a sacred document, which will prove to the world how intimately he was penetrated with all the feelings which most become a Christian, and which give higher hopes than are afforded by the pains and merits of this transitory life." The following is a translation: "O God, I give to Thee my heart, but give me faith. Without faith there is no strong prayer, and to pray is a longing of my soul. I pray, not that Thou shouldst take away the obstacles on my path, but that Thou mayst permit me to overcome them. I pray, not that Thou shouldst disarm my enemies, but that Thou shouldst aid me to conquer myself. Hear, O God, my prayer. Preserve to my affection those who are dear to me. Grant them happy days. If Thou only givest on this earth a certain sum of joy, take, O God, my share, and bestow it on the most worthy, and, may the most worthy be my friends. If thou seekest vengeance on man, strike me. Misfortune is converted into happiness by the sweet thought that those whom we love are happy. Happiness is poisoned by the bitter thought: while I rejoice, those whom I love a thousand times better than myself are suffering. For me, O God, no more happiness. Take it from my path. I can only find joy in forgetting the past. _If I forget those who are no more, I shall be forgotten in my turn_, and how sad the thought that makes me say, 'Time effaces all.' The only satisfaction I seek is that which lasts forever, that which is given by a tranquil conscience. O, my God! show me where my duty lies, and give me strength to accomplish it always. Arrived at the term of my life, I shall turn my looks fearlessly to the past. Remember it will not be for me a long remorse. I shall be happy. Grant, O God, that my heart may be penetrated with the conviction that those whom I love and who are dead shall see all my actions. My life shall be worthy of this witness, and my innermost thoughts shall never make them blush." That single line, "If I forget those who are no more, I shall be forgotten in my turn," is an epitome of what is taught us, and what our own hearts feel in relation to the dead. May the noble young heart that poured forth this beautiful prayer be remembered by Christian charity now that he is amongst the departed! THE HELPERS OF THE HOLY SOULS. BY LADY GEORGIANA ILLERTON. It has always seemed to me a particularly interesting subject of thought to trace as far back as possible the origin of great and good works,--to ascertain what were the tendencies or the circumstances which concurred in awakening the first ideas, or giving the first impulses, which have eventually led to results the magnitude of which was little foreseen by those destined to bring them about; how much of natural character, and what peculiar gifts, united with God's grace in the formation of some of those grand developments of religion which have been the joy and the glory of the Church. What would we not give to know, for instance, at what page, at what sentence, of the volume of the "Lives of the Saints" which St. Ignatius was reading on his sick couch at the Castle of Loyola, the thought came into his mind the ultimate development of which was the foundation of the Society of Jesus? or when the blessed Father Clavers' soul was for the first time moved by a casual mention, perhaps, of the sufferings of the negro race? or the particular disappointment at some Parisian lady going out of town in the midst of her works of charity, or at another being detained at home by the sickness of some relative, which suggested to St. Vincent de Paul the first idea of gathering together a few servant girls from the country, to do with greater regularity, if not more zeal, the visiting amongst the poor which the ladies had undertaken, and thus founding the Order of the Sisters of Charity? I suppose that every one who has done anything worth doing in the course of their lives could call to mind the moment when a book, a sermon, a conversation, a casual word, perhaps,--or, if they have been so favored, a direct inspiration from God in the hour of prayer,--has given the impulse--set fire, as it were, to the train lying ready in their hearts. But long before this decisive time has come, indications have existed, thoughts have arisen, feelings have been awakened, which, like the cloud big as a man's hand, have foreshadowed the deluge of graces and mercies about to inundate their souls. As an instance of these indications of a particular bias, I was struck with the mention of a childish fancy in the early years of the foundress of the Order of Helpers of the Souls in Purgatory,--a new community, which has sprung up during the last ten years, and has a history well worth relating. To many this fresh manifestation of the spirit of the Church on earth, and of its close affinity with the suffering Church in Purgatory, has come as a wonderful blessing and consolation, and inspired them with a grateful regard for these new oblates and victims of charity to the dead. About thirty years ago a little girl in the town of N--, in France, had been much struck with the mention of Purgatory. It made a very great impression upon her. She used to picture it to herself as a dark closet, in which a little friend of hers who had lately died was perhaps shut up, whilst she herself was playing in the garden and running after butterflies; and she kept longing to open the door and let her out. This little girl was subsequently educated in one of the Convents of the Sacred Heart, and learnt in that school lessons of self-devotion and ardent zeal for souls which were hereafter to bear fruit. She has retained to this day an enthusiastic affection for the religious teachers of her childhood; and devotion to the Sacred Heart of Jesus is one of the principal devotions of the order she has founded. The thought which had occurred to her almost in infancy continued to haunt her in another form as she grew older. She kept asking herself," How could I help God? He is our helper: how can we help Him? He gives me everything: how could I give Him everything?" And the answer which grace put into her heart to these oft-repeated questions was always, "By paying the debts of the souls in Purgatory." The inevitable result of this thought was the desire to have wherewith to pay these debts. For this object the necessity of a perfect life, of a daily sanctification, of an ever-increasing store of merits and satisfactions, was obvious. Hence naturally arose the idea of the community-life, of the practice of the evangelical counsels, and of a meritorious, arduous, self-sacrificing charity towards the poor, in order worthily to pray, to act, and to suffer for the souls in Purgatory--to become, as it were, a co-operator with our Lord, by aiding His designs of mercy towards them, whilst satisfying His justice by voluntary expiation. This lady was not led by one of those startling bereavements which close a person's prospects of earthly happiness, and leave them no object to live for but the hope of winning mercy at God's hands for some dear departed one; or by the terrible anxiety about the state of some beloved soul which forces on the survivor the practice of a continual appeal to His compassionate goodness. Her zeal for the souls in Purgatory was perfectly free from any earthly attachment; it was as disinterested as possible, and sprung up in her heart before she had known what it is to lose a friend or a relative, before she had experienced the keen anguish of bereavement. She was a happy, contented girl, living in a cheerful and comfortable home, beloved by her family, enjoying all innocent pleasures, going occasionally into society, and amusing herself like other young people; devoted, indeed, to good works, and taking the lead in the numerous charities existing in her native town. But this was not to be her eventual mode of life. It was good as far as it went; but she had been chosen for the accomplishment of a special work, and grace was continually urging her to its fulfilment. On the 1st of November, 1853, Mdlle. ---- was hearing vespers with her father and her mother in a church dedicated to Our Lady. Whilst the Blessed Sacrament was being exposed on the altar, she felt a strong internal inspiration prompting her to form an association of prayers and offerings for the dead; but, afraid of being misled by her imagination, she prayed earnestly that God would give her a sign that this was indeed His will. As she was coming out of the church, a friend of hers stopped her in the porch, and of her own accord proposed that they should offer up jointly, during the month set apart for special devotion to the souls in Purgatory, all their prayers and works for their relief. This seemed to her a token that her inspiration had been a true one, and that very evening an association was begun which by this time numbers not less than fifteen thousand members. On the following day, the 2d of November, during her thanksgiving after Communion, Mdlle. ---- was strongly impressed with the thought that there existed orders intended to supply every need in the Church militant, but none exclusively devoted to the relief of the suffering portion of the Church, and it appeared to her that she was called upon to fill up this void. This idea seemed at the outset too bold a one. She felt startled, almost alarmed, at its magnitude, and earnestly entreated our Lord to make known to her if such was indeed to be her mission. She begged of Him, by His Five Sacred Wounds, to give her five indications of His will in this respect. Her prayers were heard, and during the course of the years 1854 and 1855 these tokens were successively vouchsafed to her. What she had asked for was, 1st, that the Holy Father should approve of in writing, and give his blessing to, the association of prayers set on foot on All Saints' Day (on the 7th of July, 1854, Pius IX. wrote, with his own hand, at the bottom of the petition presented to him, "_Benedicat vos Deus benedictione perpetua_"--may God bless you with an everlasting blessing); 2d, that a great number of Bishops should approve of this association; 3d, that it should extend rapidly; 4th, that a few pious persons should co- operate in the scheme, and devote themselves to works of charity in behalf of the souls in Purgatory; 5th, that a priest might be met with who had previously formed a similar project. In the month of July, 1855, Mdlle. ---- thought of consulting the Curé d'Ars, whom she had for the first time heard of a little while before. The sanctity of this extraordinary man was beginning to be much spoken of, not only in France, but all over Europe. Pilgrims flocked to the insignificant little town of Ars, seeking the advice and help of the poor _curé_--whose ascetic mode of life, spiritual discernment, heroic virtues, and even miraculous gifts, were gradually becoming known, in spite of the desperate efforts he made to conceal them. We can hardly imagine, when reading his Life, that in the neighboring country of France, and in our own day, a man was actually living that we might have seen and spoken and gone to confession to, the details of whose supernatural existence are like the marvels that we read of in the "Lives of the Saints." Mdlle. ---- felt persuaded that this holy priest was the instrument appointed by God to make her acquainted with His will, and earnestly longed in some way or other to communicate with him. She did not think of obtaining leave from her parents to go to Ars. It seemed to her that his answer to her question, after he had considered the subject before God in prayer, would be more unbiassed, and carry greater weight with it, than if she had spoken of it to him herself. She did not wish to be influenced by any human considerations, or to be tempted to say more than, "Such is my thought and desire; does it come from God?" With this view she began a novena, and on the day it ended one of her friends called to tell her she was going to Ars, and to inquire if she could do anything for her. On the 5th of August this friend sent her M. Vianney's answer: "Tell her that she can establish, as soon as she likes, an order for the souls in Purgatory." The future foundress never had any personal communication with the Curé d'Ars, and yet he always used to say, "I know her." On the 30th of October Mdlle. ---- entreated him to pray on All Souls' Day for her intention, and on the 11th of November the Abbé T--, his assistant in his extensive correspondence, wrote to her as follows: "Your edifying letter reached me at Pont d'Ain, where our worthy Bishop, Monseigneur Chalandon, was preaching a retreat. This seemed expressly arranged by Providence, in order that I should speak to him of you and your pious projects. On my return to Ars, on All Souls' Day, I mentioned your wishes to my holy _curé_, begging him to meditate on the subject in prayer before he gave me an answer. Three or four times since I have put to him the same question, and always received the same answer. 'He thinks that it is God who has inspired you with the thought of a heroic self-devotion, and that you will do well to found an order in behalf of the souls in Purgatory.' Whether the good _curé_ speaks in consequence of a divine enlightenment, or whether he only expresses his own opinion and his own wishes, which his tender devotion to the souls in Purgatory would naturally incline in favor of your design, neither I nor any of those most intimately acquainted with him can presume to say. But you can remain certain of two things,--that he quite approves of your vocation to the religious life, and of the foundation of this new order, which he thinks will increase rapidly. This is surely enough to confirm you in your intention, which you will carry into effect whenever and wherever it will please God to open a way to it, and you will then be the faithful instrument of His Divine Providence." On the 25th of the same month M. Vianney sent a message to Mdlle. ---- in answer to a letter in which she had spoken of the obstacles which she foresaw on the part of her family. The Abbé T---- writes: "If I have not written to you before, it is because you particularly wished to have an answer _after special prayer_. And now here is this much-wished-for answer. The good _curé_ has expressed himself as explicitly as possible. I told him that you were troubled at the thought of a separation from your family more on their account than your own, and also at relinquishing the many charitable works which you carry on in your parish. To my great surprise, he who generally very strongly recommends young people not to act against their parents' wishes, but patiently to await their consent, did not hesitate in advising you to proceed. He says that the tears your parents are now shedding will soon be dried up. Do not, then, be afraid to let your heart burn with the love of Jesus. He will find a way of removing all the obstacles in your path, and of making you an angel of consolation to His holy spouses, the souls in Purgatory. The moon has no light in herself, and only reflects that of the sun. This is truly my case with regard to our saintly priest. I will constantly remind him to pray for you, and will unite my unworthy prayers to his, that, in the terrible struggle in your heart between nature and grace, grace may remain victorious." When this letter reached Mdlle. ----, the principal difficulty she foresaw was already removed. On the 21st of November, the Feast of the Presentation of the Blessed Virgin, her mother, seeing that her heart was ready to break with the wish and the fear of broaching the subject so painfully interesting to them both, had the pious courage to speak first, and to give her full consent to her child's vocation. Both mother and daughter were struck some time afterwards at finding in a little prayer-book they had not seen before, called "The Month of November Consecrated to the Souls in Purgatory," the following prayer, appointed to be said on the 21st of November, the very day on which they had made their sacrifice, and uttered for the first time the bitter word _separation_. "O Holy Spirit! who at divers times has raised up religious orders for the needs of the Church Militant; O Father of Light! full of compassion and zeal for the dead; we implore Thee to raise up also in behalf of the suffering Church a new order, the object of which will be to work day and night for the relief and the deliverance of the souls in Purgatory; whose intentions, invariably dedicated to the dead, will apply to them the merits of all their prayers, fastings, vigils, and good works. Thou alone, Creating Spirit, canst achieve a work which will procure so much glory to God, and for which we shall never cease to sigh and pray." Other difficulties failed not to arise. Some persons were of opinion that Mdlle. ---- ought to remain in the world for the very sake of the objects she had in view, whereas her whole heart and soul were bent on consecrating herself without any reserve to our Lord. She was warned that her parents, who had never been separated from their children, would suffer terribly if she left them; and finally, her own health began to fail. But whilst the world and the devil were multiplying the obstacles in her way, the venerable Curé d'Ars spared neither advice nor encouragement to support her in her arduous struggle. On the 23d of December his coadjutor writes: "Divine Providence always acts with sweetness and with power. The consent of your good mother is an important step gained. The good _curé_ advises you not to go to Paris until you have some means wherewith to begin your work. You will do well to avail yourself of the interest you possess in your diocese to obtain some aid towards it. The _curé_ entirely approves of your becoming a religious. It is quite possible that God may restore your health; and he advises you to make a novena to St. Philomena. "The very day I received your letter, Monseigneur Chalandon, our worthy Bishop, came to Ars, to call on my holy _curé_. I mentioned you to him. He told me he had written to you. He also says that you must not begin without some means and better health. Pray very hard that God may give you both. I think the souls in Purgatory ought to take this opportunity to prove that they have influence with God. Their interests are at stake in the removal of these obstacles." Mdlle. ---- had asked to make this novena conjointly with M. Vianney; and she soon received the following letter: "It is to-day, the 9th of January, that our much-wished-for novena is to begin. The souls in Purgatory are interested in the re-establishment of your health. I am, you know, but the echo of our good and holy _curé_. Your director gives you excellent advice. You might, indeed, as soon as you have means enough of support for one year, go to Paris for a while, and come back again to forward the work in the same way you are doing now. You say, 'St. Vincent de Paul used to begin his works with nothing.' So he did. But then, as my good _curé_ observes, 'St. Vincent de Paul was a great saint!'" According to M. Vianney's advice, on the 19th of January, 1856, the foundress went to Paris, where she met some persons who had, like her, resolved to devote themselves to the service of the souls in Purgatory; but who were quite at a loss how to proceed, and had no means of support. All sorts of crosses awaited this little band of Helpers of the Holy Souls, for such was the name they had taken. Not only were funds wanting for their establishment, but they did not know where to apply for work, and sufferings of every kind assailed them. Mdlle. ---- experienced what always happens to generous souls at the outset of their enterprises, when they have unreservedly devoted themselves to the service of God, and are being tried like gold in the furnace. Blame and neglect became her portion. Nobody thought it worth their while to assist a little band of women, whose heroic project had seemed admirable, indeed, in theory, but was now declared to be impracticable. They were considered as mere enthusiasts; and, indeed, as was said by M. Desgenettes, the venerable Curé of Notre Dame des Victoires, they were truly possessed with the holy folly of the Cross. Meantime they had to work for their bread, and did work with all their might. But it was not always that work could be obtained; and trials without end beset the infant community, lodged in an attic in the Rue St. Martin. Every day, as they asked their Heavenly Father for their daily bread, they prepared themselves to receive with it their habitual portion of sufferings and privations--a fit noviceship for souls undertaking a work of heroic expiation. Mdlle. ----, who, for the first time in her life quitted a home where she had known all the comforts of affluence, had to undergo numberless privations. Illness combined with poverty to heighten their trials. Their Divine Master made them experience the kind of suffering which it was hereafter to be their special vocation to relieve. The Curé d'Ars fully understood the nature of that training, and never offered them any help but that of his advice and prayers. "He does not give you anything," says a letter written on the 16th of March, "but _he_ will ask St. Philomena, his heavenly treasurer, to put it into the hearts of those who could assist you to do so." And, indeed, help used to come whenever the distress of the holy society became too urgent. One day the foundress had not a single penny left, and was, to use a common expression, at her wits' end. But, thank God, there is something better than human wits or human ingenuity in such extremities; and that is prayer. The Sister who acted as housekeeper placed her bills before the Superioress, and asked for money to buy food for the day. Mdlle. ---- told her to wait a little, and went out, not knowing very well what to do next. She entered a church, threw herself on her knees before the Blessed Sacrament, and prayed long and fervently. As she was coming away she stopped before an image of our Holy Mother, and clasping her hands, exclaimed: "My Blessed Mother, you _must_ get me 100 francs to-day. I will take no refusal. You _cannot_, you never do forsake your children." She went straight home, and up the dingy stairs into the little room inhabited by the infant community. The instant she opened the door her eyes fell on a letter lying on the table. She opened it with a beating heart, and found in it a note of 100 francs. There was no name; not a word written on the cover. The postman had just left it, and to this day the donor of this sum, or the place it came from, has not been discovered. Another time eight sous was all that remained in the purse of the associates. They agreed to lay out this money to advantage, and accordingly employed it in purchasing a little statue of St. Joseph, whom they instituted their treasurer. The Saint has fulfilled ever since the trust reposed in him; but he often waits till the very last moment to supply the necessities of his clients. I have seen this little image in their convents. It is, of course, very dear to them. One day, when no needle-work was to be had, and distress was threatening them, a little girl came to their room, and asked if they had finished the bracelets she had been told to call for. Finding she had mistaken the direction, the child said: "You could have some of that work to do if you liked." Upon inquiry they found that the employment consisted in threading rows of pearls for foreign exportation; that it was less fatiguing and better paid than needle-work, and proved for some months a valuable resource. On another occasion the sum of 500 francs was required for some pressing necessity. This time the foundress had recourse to our Lady of Victories. Having placed the matter in her hands, she went to call on a person whom she thought might lend her this money, but met with a decided negative. She did not know any one else in Paris to whom she could apply; but on leaving the house she met a gentleman, with whom she had no previous acquaintance, who came up to her and said: "I think you are Mdlle. ----, and that you have a special devotion for the souls in Purgatory. Will you allow me to place this 500 francs at your disposal, and to recommend my intentions to your prayers?" Meanwhile illnesses and trials continued to affect the little community. The Abbé T---- writes from Ars: "Do not ask for miraculous cures. _M. le Curé_ complains that St. Philomena sends us too many people." The next letter is full of kind encouragement: "_M. le Curé_ only smiles when I tell him all you have to go through, and he bids me repeat the same thing to you, which he desired me to write to a good Sister, devoted to all sorts of good works and suffering cruel persecution. 'Tell her that these crosses are flowers which will soon bear fruit.' You have thought, prayed, taken advice, and thoroughly weighed the sacrifices you will have to make, and you have every reason to believe that in doing this work you are doing God's will. The energy which He alone can give will enable you to accomplish what you have begun."..."_M. le Curé_ has said to me several times, in a tone of the strongest conviction, 'Their enterprise cannot fail to succeed; but the foundress will have to experience what anxiety and what labor, what efforts and what sufferings, have to be endured ere such a work can be consolidated; but,' he adds, 'if God is with them, who shall be against them?'" On the 20th of June the Superioress received another letter from the same good priest: "I feel deeply affected," he writes, "at the thought of the many and severe trials which beset you. Tell your friend that the holy _curé_ bids her not to look back, but obey with courage the sacred call she has received. The souls in Purgatory must be enabled to say of you, 'We have advocates on earth who can feel for us, because they know themselves what it is to suffer.' And mind you go on praying to St. Philomena, and begging of her to obtain for you the means necessary for the accomplishment of your holy projects." The associates continued to pray, to work, and to suffer with patience and cheerfulness. They received at last some unexpected assistance. New members proposed to join them; but it became then absolutely necessary to hire a house. The Superioress searched in every direction for a suitable one, but without success. It seems as if the words, "there was no room for them," were destined to prove applicable to all religious foundations during their periods of probationary trial. After having exerted herself, and employed others in vain for a long time, the Superioress received a message from a holy man whose prayers she had asked, desiring her to go to a particular part of the town, and to await there some providential indication as to the abode she was seeking. For several hours she paced up and down the streets of that part of Paris, praying interiorly, but totally at a loss where to apply. At last she accidentally turned into the Rue de la Barouillière, and saw a house and garden with a bill upon it indicating that it was to be let or sold. She immediately asked to go over it. All sorts of difficulties, apparently insurmountable ones, stood in the way of the purchase. They were overcome in a strangely unaccountable manner, and the money which had to be paid in advance was actually forthcoming on the appointed day, to the astonishment of all concerned. The history of this negotiation, and the wonderful answers to prayer vouchsafed in the course of it, are very striking; only the more we study the manifestations of God's Providence with regard to works carried on in faith and simple reliance on His assistance, the more _accustomed_ we get to these miracles of mercy. The Helpers of the Souls in Purgatory took possession of their new home on the 1st of July, 1856, and not long after began their labors amongst the poor. An act of kindness solicited at their hands towards a sick and destitute neighbor soon after their arrival, was the primary cause of their choosing as their particular line of charity attendance on the sick poor in their own destitute homes by day and by night also. This, together with their prayers, their fasts, and their watches, is the continual sacrifice they offer up for the souls in Purgatory. * * * * * Before I go on with the history of the Helpers of the Holy Souls in Purgatory, I must describe to you their house,--No. 16 Rue de la Barouillière,--a very small and inconvenient one at the time of their installation, but which has since been re-modelled according to the wants of the increasing community, and an adjoining one added to it. I have often visited this convent, which soon becomes dear to those who would fain help the many beloved ones removed from their sight, but feel the impotency of their own efforts, their want of holiness, of courage, and of perseverance in this blessed work. The sight of this religious house is very touching; the inscriptions on the walls, which are taken from the Holy Scriptures and the writings of the Saints, all bear reference to the state of departed souls, and our duty towards them; the quiet chapel where the Office for the Dead is daily said, and a number of Masses offered up. The memorials of the saintly Curé d'Ars, whose spirit seems to hover over the place, gives a peculiar character to its aspect. The nuns do not wear the religious dress, but are simply dressed in black, like persons in mourning. * * * * * On the 18th of August, 1856, Monseigneur Sibour, the Archbishop of Paris, came to visit and bless the new community. "It is a grain of mustard-seed," he said, "which will become a great tree, and spread its branches far and wide." He approved of all that had been done since the house had been opened, and allowed Mass to be said every day in the chapel as soon as it could be properly fitted up, which was the case on the ensuing 5th of November. On the 8th of the same month the house was solemnly consecrated to the Blessed Virgin; the keys were laid at the feet of her image, and she was entreated to become herself the Superioress of the congregation. It was on the 27th of December, the feast of the disciple whom Jesus loved, the great apostle of charity, that the foundress and five other Sisters made their first vows. A few days afterwards, Monseigneur Sibour was about to sign a grant of indulgences for the work of the religious; someone standing beside him said, "Monseigneur, the souls in Purgatory are guiding your pen." He smiled, and made haste to write his name. He little thought how soon he would be himself numbered with the dead. It was on the 3d of January, 1857, that his tragical death took place. * * * * * On the 4th of August, 1859, the holy Curé of Ars died; but he lives in the hearts and in the memories of the community which owes so much to his prayers and his advice. His name is frequently on their lips; often has his intercession obtained for them miraculous cures. Every memorial of him is carefully preserved and venerated. * * * * * In the course of the year 1859, on the Feast of St. Benedict, Cardinal Morlot sanctioned the institution of a third order of Helpers of the Souls in Purgatory, and the affiliation to it of honorary members. The ladies of the third order engage to lead a practically Christian life in the world, to perform exactly all their religious duties, and those of their state of life. They promise, in their measure, to suffer, act, and pray for the dead, and offer up their good works, the sacrifices they may be inspired to make, and the devotions prescribed by a simple and easy rule adapted to their condition, for this object.... On the day of the institution of the third order, twenty-eight ladies joined it, received the cross, and made their act of consecration in presence of the Archbishop. The honorary members have been continually and rapidly increasing in number. * * * * * The new order has a special devotion to St. Joseph, the great minister of God's mercy to all religious, the particular protector of the souls in Purgatory, the foster-father of Christ's poor, and the helper of the dying. He was himself once in limbo, and knows what it is to wait. It is scarcely necessary to speak of their devotion to the Blessed Virgin, whom they have crowned as the Queen of Purgatory, and invoke under the title of Our Lady of Providence. They specially keep the Feast of the Sacred Heart, those of St. Ignatius and St. Gertrude; but All Souls is of course the day of their most particular devotion. The Holy Sacrament is exposed during the whole time of the Octave. * * * * * And now, to use words of Père Blot, of the Society of Jesus: "How consoling a thought it is that as the Holy Souls in Purgatory, in all probability, and according to the opinion of the greatest theologians, know what we do for them, and pray for us, they see these acts of charity; they see these devoted women making themselves the slaves of the poor, and sowing in tears, that they themselves may reap in joy. We cannot also but believe that the prayers of the Holy Souls, and perhaps their influence, contribute to the success of the mission carried on for their sakes and in their name amidst the poor and suffering. Several times when they have been invoked by the community, wonderful cures have been vouchsafed and favors obtained. Instances of this kind have excited the astonishment of physicians, and confirmed a pious belief in the efficacy of those prayers. St. Catherine, of Bologna, used to say, 'When I wish to obtain some favor from the Eternal Father, I invoke the souls in the place of expiation, and charge them with the petition I have to make to Him, and I feel I am heard through their means.' Let us, then, if we feel inspired to do so, ask the prayers of the souls in Purgatory; but, above all things, let us pray for them, and, like these religious, join to our prayers acts of self-denying charity towards the poor. Let us always remember, that to the Eternal Lord of all things everything is present--the future as well as the past. We call Him the King of Ages, because the order of events depends wholly on His will, and nothing in their course or succession can alter or change the effects of that will. He looks upon what is to come as if it were present or already past. In consideration of the prayers, the suffrages, and the good works of the Church, which He foresees, He grants proportionate graces, even as if those prayers and good works had been already offered up.... Amongst the Helpers of the Holy Souls several have made great sacrifices to God in order to obtain mercy for souls long ago called away from this world. We can all imitate their example. 'Oh! if it was not too late!' is the cry of many a heart tortured by anxiety for the fate of some loved one who has died apparently out of the Church, or not in a state of grace. We answer, 'It is never too late. Pray; act; suffer. The Lord foresaw your efforts. The Lord knew what was to come, and may have given to that soul at its last hour some extraordinary graces, which snatched it from destruction, and placed it in safety where your love may still reach it, your prayers relieve, your sacrifices avail.'" I could not resist closing this letter with these sentences, which have raised the hopes and stimulated the courage of many mourners. I only wish this imperfect sketch of the Order of Helpers of the Holy Souls, and of the nature of their work, might prove a first though feeble step towards the introduction amongst us at some future day of a Sisterhood which, in the words used on his death-bed by Father Faber, the great advocate amongst us of devotion to the Holy Souls in Purgatory, "procures such immense glory to God." THE MASS IN RELATION TO THE DEAD. O'BRIEN [1] [Footnote 1: Rev. John O'Brien, A.M., Prof. of Sacred Liturgy at Mt. St. Mary's, Emmittsburg. "History of the Mass and its Ceremonies in the Eastern and Western Churches."] The Mass of Requiem is one celebrated in behalf of the dead.... If the body of the deceased be present during its celebration, it enjoys privileges that it otherwise would not, for it cannot be celebrated unless within certain restrictions. Masses of this kind are accustomed to be said in memory of the departed faithful, _first_, when the person dies--or, as the Latin phrase has it, _dies obitus seu deposifionis_, which means any day that intervenes from the day of one's demise to his burial; _secondly_, on the third day after death, in memory of Our Divine Lord's resurrection after three days' interval; _thirdly_, on the seventh day, in memory of the mourning of the Israelites seven days for Joseph (Gen. i. 10); _fourthly_, on the thirtieth day, in memory of Moses and Aaron, whom the Israelites lamented this length of time (Numb. xx.; Deut. xxxiv.); and, finally, at the end of the year, or on the anniversary day itself (Gavant., Thesaur. Rit. 62). This custom also prevails with the Orientals. During the early days it was entirely at the discretion of every priest whether he said daily a plurality of Masses or not (Gavant., Thesaur. Rit. p. 19). It was quite usual to say two Masses, one of the occurring feast, the other for the benefit of the faithful departed. This practice, however, kept gradually falling into desuetude until the time of Pope Alexander II. (A. D. 1061-1073), when that pontiff decreed that no priest should say more than one Mass on the same day. * * * * * Throughout the kingdom of Aragon, in Spain (including Aragon, Valentia, and Catalonia), also in the kingdom of Majorca (a dependency of Aragon), it is allowed each secular priest to say two Masses on the 2d of November, the Commemoration of all the Faithful Departed, and each regular priest three Masses. This privilege is also enjoyed by the Dominicans of the Monastery of St. James at Pampeluna (Benedict XIV., _De Sacrif. Missal Romae, ex. Congr. de Prof. Fide_, an. 1859 editio, p. 139). This grant, it is said, was first made either by Pope Julius or Pope Paul III., and though often asked for afterwards by persons of note, was never granted to any other country, or to any place in Spain except those mentioned. For want of any very recent information upon the subject, I am unable to say how far the privilege extends at the present day. A movement is on foot, however, to petition the Holy See for an extension of this privilege to the Universal Church, in order that as much aid as possible may be given to the suffering souls in Purgatory. * * * * * In case of a death occurring (amongst the Armenians) Mass is never omitted. The Armenians say one on the day of burial and one on the seventh, fifteenth, and fortieth after death; also one on the anniversary day. This holy practice of praying for the dead and saying Mass in their behalf is very common throughout the entire East, with schismatics as well as Catholics. * * * * * As late as the sixteenth century, a very singular custom prevailed in England--viz.: that of presenting at the altar during a Mass of Requiem all the armor and military equipments of deceased knights and noblemen, as well as their chargers. Dr. Kock (Church of our Fathers, II. 507), tells us that as many as eight horses, fully caparisoned, used to be brought into the church for this purpose at the burial of some of the higher nobility. At the funeral of Henry VII., in Westminster Abbey, after the royal arms had first been presented at the foot of the altar, we are told that Sir Edward Howard rode into Church upon "a goodlie courser," with the arms of England embroidered upon his trappings, and delivered him to the abbots of the monastery (_ibid_). Something similar happened at the Mass of Requiem for the repose of the soul of Lord Bray in A. D. 1557, and at that celebrated for Prince Arthur, son of Henry VII. (_ibid_). * * * * * As the priest begins to recite the memento for the dead, he moves his hands slowly before his face, so as to have them united at the words "_in somno pacis_." This gentle motion of the hands is aptly suggestive here of the slow, lingering motion of a soul preparing to leave the body, and the final union of the hands forcibly recalls to mind the laying down of the body in its quiet slumber in the earth. As this prayer is very beautiful, we transcribe it in full. It is thus worded: "Remember, also, O Lord! Thy servants, male and female, who have gone before us with the sign of faith and sleep in the sleep of peace, N. N.; to them, O Lord! and to all who rest in Christ, we beseech Thee to grant a place of refreshment, light, and peace; through the same Christ our Lord. Amen." At the letters N. N. the names of the particular persons to be prayed for among the departed were read out from the diptychs in ancient times. When the priest comes to them now he does not stop, but pauses awhile at "_in, somno pacis_" to make his private memento of those whom he wishes to pray for in particular, in which he is to be guided by the same rules that directed him in making his memento for the living, only that here he cannot pray for the conversion of any one, as he could there, for this solely relates to the dead who are detained in Purgatory. Should the Holy Sacrifice be offered for any soul among the departed which could not be benefited by it, either because of the loss of its eternal salvation or its attainment of the everlasting joys of heaven, theologians commonly teach that in that case the fruit of the Mass would enter the treasury of the Church, and be applied afterwards in such indulgences and the like as Almighty God might suggest to the dispensers of his gift (Suarez, _Disp._, xxxviii, sec. 8). We beg to direct particular attention here to the expression "sleep of peace." That harsh word _death_, which we now use, was seldom or never heard among the early Christians when talking of their departed brethren. Death to them was nothing else but a sleep until the great day of resurrection, when all would rise up again at the sound of the angel's trumpet; and this bright idea animated their minds and enlivened all their hopes when conversing with their absent friends in prayer. So, too, with the place of interment; it was not called by that hard name that distinguishes it too often now, viz., the _grave-yard_, but was called by the milder term of _cemetery,_ which, from its Greek derivation, means a dormitory, or sleeping-place. Nor was the word _bury_ employed to signify the consigning the body to the earth. No, this sounded too profane in the ears of the primitive Christians; they rather chose the word _depose_, as suggestive of the treasure that was put away until it pleased God to turn it to better use on the final reckoning day. The old Teutonic expression for cemetery was, to say the least of it, very beautiful. The blessed place was called in this tongue _gottes-acker_--that is, God's field--for the reason that the dead were, so to speak, the seed sown in the ground from which would spring the harvest reaped on the day of general resurrection in the shape of glorified bodies. According to this beautiful notion, the stone which told who the departed person was that lay at rest beneath, was likened to the label that was hung upon a post by the farmer or gardener to tell the passer-by the name of the flower that was deposited beneath. This happy application of the word _sleep_ to death runs also through Holy Scripture, where we frequently find such expressions as "He slept with his fathers," "I have slept and I am refreshed," applied from the third Psalm to our Divine Lord's time in the sepulchre; the "sleep of peace," "he was gathered to his fathers," etc. The prayers of the Orientals for the faithful departed are singularly touching. In the Coptic Liturgy of St. Basil the memento is worded thus: "In like manner, O Lord! remember also all those who have already fallen asleep in the priesthood and amidst the laity; vouchsafe to give rest to their souls in the bosoms of our holy fathers, Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob; bring them into a place of greenness by the waters of comfort, in the paradise of pleasure where grief and misery and sighing are banished, in the brightness of the saints." The Orientals are very much attached to ancient phraseology, and hence their frequent application of "the bosom of Abraham" to that middle state of purification in the next life which we universally designate by the name of Purgatory. In the Syro-Jacobite Liturgy of John Bar Maadan, part of the memento is thus worded: "Reckon them among the number of Thine elect; cover them with the bright cloud of Thy saints; set them with the lambs on Thy right hand, and bring them into Thy habitation." The following extract is taken from the Liturgy of St. Chrysostom, which, as we have said already, all the Catholic and schismatic Greeks of the East follow: "Remember all those that are departed in the hope of the resurrection to eternal life, and give them rest where the light of Thy countenance shines upon them." But of all the Orientals, the place of honor in this respect must be yielded to the Nestorians; for, heretics as they are, too much praise cannot be given them for the singular reverence they show towards their departed brethren. From a work of theirs called the "Sinhados," which Badger quotes in his "Nestorians and their Rituals," we take the following extract: "The service of third day of the dead is kept up, because Christ rose on the third day. On the ninth day, also, there should be a commemoration, and again on the thirtieth day, after the example of the Old Testament, since the people mourned for Moses that length of time. A year after, also, there should be a particular commemoration of the dead, and some of the property of the deceased should be given to the poor in remembrance of him. We say this of believers; for, as to unbelievers, should all the wealth of the world be given to the poor in their behalf, it would profit them nothing." The Armenians call Purgatory by the name _Goyan_--that is, a mansion. The Chaldeans style it _Matthar_, the exact equivalent of our term. By some of the other Oriental Churches it is called _Kavaran_, or place of penance; and _Makraran_, a place of purification (Smith and Dwight, I. p. 169). We could multiply examples at pleasure to prove that there is no church in the East to which the name of Christian can be given that does not look upon praying for the faithful departed, and offering the Holy Mass for the repose of their souls, as a sacred and solemn obligation. Protestants who would fain believe otherwise, and who not unfrequently record differently in their writings about the Oriental Christians, can verify our statements by referring to any Eastern Liturgy and examining for themselves. We conclude our remarks on this head by a strong argument in point from a very unbiased Anglican minister--the Rev. Dr. John Mason Neale. Speaking of prayers for the dead in his work entitled "A History of the Holy Eastern Church," general introduction, Vol. I. p. 509, this candid-speaking man uses the following language: "I am not now going to prove, what nothing but the blindest prejudice can deny, that the Church, east, west, and south, has, with one consentient and universal voice, even from Apostolic times, prayed in the Holy Eucharist for the departed faithful." FUNERAL ORATION ON DANIEL O'CONNELL. REV. THOMAS BURKE, O. P. ["Wisdom conducted the just man through the right ways, and showed him the kingdom of God, made him honorable in his labors, and accomplished his works. She kept him safe from his enemies, and gave him a strong conflict that he might overcome; and in bondage she left him not till she brought him the sceptre of the kingdom, and power against those that oppressed him, and gave him everlasting glory."--Wisdom x. [1] ] [Footnote 1: From the funeral oration preached at Glassaevin Cemetery, in May, 1869, on the occasion of the removal of the remains of the Liberator to their final resting place.] Nor was Ireland forgotten in the designs of God. Centuries of patient endurance brought at length the dawn of a better day. God's hour came, and it brought with it Ireland's greatest son, Daniel O'Connell. We surround his grave to-day to pay him a last tribute of love, to speak words of praise, of suffrage, and prayer. For two and twenty years has he silently slept in the midst of us. His generation is passing away, and the light of history already dawns upon his grave, and she speaks his name with cold, unimpassioned voice. In this age of ours a few years are as a century of times gone by. Great changes and startling events follow each other in such quick succession that the greatest names are forgotten almost as soon as those who bore them disappear, and the world itself is surprised to find how short-lived is the fame which promised to be immortal. The Church alone is the true shrine of immortality--the temple of fame which perisheth not; and that man only whose name and memory is preserved in her sanctuaries receives on this earth a reflection of that glory which is eternal in heaven. But before the Church will crown any one of her children, she carefully examines his claims to the immortality of her gratitude and praise. She asks, "What has he done for God and for man?" This great question am I come here to answer to-day for him whose tongue, once so eloquent, is now stilled in the silence of the grave, and over whose tomb a grateful country has raised a monument of its ancient faith and a record of its past glories; and I claim for him the need of our gratitude and love, in that he was a man of faith, whom wisdom guided in "the right ways," who loved and sought "the kingdom of God," who was "most honorable in his labors," and who accomplished his "great works;" the liberator of his race, the father of his people, the conqueror in "the undented conflict" of principle, truth and justice.... ....Before him stretched, full and broad, the two ways of life, and he must choose between them: the way which led to all that the world prized--wealth, power, distinction, title, glory, and fame; the way of genius, the noble rivalry of intellect, the association with all that was most refined and refining--the way which led up to the council chambers of the nation, to all places of jurisdiction and of honor, to the temples wherein were enshrined historic names and glorious memories, to a share in all blessings of privilege and freedom.... Before him opened another way. No gleam of sunshine illumined this way; it was wet with tears--it was overshadowed by misfortune--_it was pointed out to the young traveller of life by the sign of the cross_, and he who entered it was bidden to leave all hope behind him, for it led through the valley of humiliation, into the heart of a fallen race, and an enslaved and afflicted people. I claim for O'Connell the glory of having chosen this latter path, and this claim no man can gainsay, for it is the argument of the Apostle in favor of the great lawgiver of old--"By faith Moses" denied himself to be the son of Pharoah's daughter. ....Into this way was he led by his love for his religion and his country. He firmly believed in that religion in which He was born. He had that faith which is common to all Catholics, and which is not merely a strong opinion nor even a conviction, but an absolute and most certain knowledge that the Catholic Church is the one and the only true messenger and witness of God upon earth; and that to belong to her communion and to possess her faith is the first and greatest of all endowments and privileges, before which everything else sinks into absolute nothing ... He was Irish of the Irish and Catholic of the Catholic. His love for religion and country was as the breath of his nostrils, the blood of his veins, and when he brought to the service of both the strength of his faith and the power of his genius, with the instinct of a true Irishman, his first thought was to lift up the nation by striking the chains off the National Church. And here again, two ways opened before him. One was a way of danger and of blood, and the history of his country told him that it ever ended in defeat and in great evil.... He saw that the effort to walk in it had swept away the last vestige of Ireland's national legislature and independence. But another path was still open to him, and wisdom pointed it out as "the right way." Another battle-field lay before him on which he could "fight the good fight" and vindicate all the rights of his religion and of his country. The armory was furnished by the inspired Apostle when he said: ... "Having your loins girt about with truth, and having on the breast-plate of justice, and your feet shod with the preparation of the Gospel of Peace, in all things taking the shield of faith.... And take unto you the sword of the Spirit, which is the Word." O'Connell knew well that such weapons in such a hand as his were irresistible-- that girt around with the truth and justice of his cause, he was clad in the armor of the Eternal God, that with words of peace and order on his lips, with the strong shield of faith before him and the sword of eloquent speech in his hand, with the war-cry of obedience, principle, and law, no power on earth could resist him, for it is the battle of God, and nothing can resist the Most High. * * * * * ... He who was the Church's liberator and most true son, was also the first of Ireland's statesmen and patriots. Our people remember well, as their future historian will faithfully record, the many trials borne for them, the many victories gained in their cause, the great life devoted to them by O'Connell. Lying, however, at the foot of the altar, as he is to-day, whilst the Church hallows his grave with prayer and sacrifice, it is more especially as the Catholic Emancipator of his people that we place a garland on his tomb. It is as the child of the Church that we honor him, and recall with tears of sorrow our recollections of the aged man, revered, beloved, whom all the glory of the world's admiration and the nation's love had never lifted up in soul out of the holy atmosphere of Christian humility and simplicity. Obedience to the Church's laws, quick zeal for her honor and the dignity of her worship, a spirit of penance refining whilst it expiated, chastening while it ennobled all that was natural in the man; constant and frequent use of the Church's holy sacraments which shed the halo of grace around his venerated head,--these were the last grand lessons which he left to his people, and thus did the sun of his life set in the glory of Christian holiness. .... In the triumph of Catholic Emancipation, he pointed out to the Irish people the true secret of their strength, the true way of progress, and the sure road to victory.... Time, which buries in utter oblivion so many names and so many memories, will exalt him in his work. The day has already dawned and is ripening into its perfect noon, when Irishmen of every creed will remember O'Connell, and celebrate him as the common friend, and the greatest benefactor of their country. What man is there, even of those whom our age has called great, whose name, so many years after his death, could summon so many loving hearts around his tomb? We, to-day, are the representatives not only of a nation but of a race.... Where is the land that has not seen the face of our people and heard their voice? And wherever, even to the ends of the earth, an Irishman is found to-day, his spirit and his sympathy are here. The millions of America are with us--the Irish Catholic soldier on India's plains is present amongst us by the magic of love--the Irish sailor standing by the wheel this moment in far-off silent seas, where it is night, and the Southern stars are shining, joins his prayer with ours, and recalls the glorious image and the venerated name of O'Connell. ... He is gone, but his fame shall live forever on the earth, as a lover of God and of His people. Adversities, political and religious, he had many, and like a "Tower of strength Which stood full square to all the winds that blew," the Hercules of justice and of liberty stood up against them. Time, which touches all things with mellowing hand, has softened the recollections of past contests, and they who once looked upon him as a foe, now only remember the glory of the fight, and the mighty genius of him who stood forth the representative man of his race, and the champion of his people. They acknowledge his greatness, and they join hands with us to weave the garland of his fame. But far other, higher and holier are the feelings of Irish Catholics all the world over to-day. They recognize in the dust which we are assembled to honor, the powerful arm which promoted them, the eloquent tongue which proclaimed their rights and asserted their freedom, the strong hand which, like that of the Maccabees of old, first struck off their chains and then built up their holy altars. They, mingling the supplication of prayer and the gratitude of suffrage with their tears, recall--oh! with how much love--the memory of him who was a Joseph to Israel--their tower of strength, their buckler, and their shield--who shed around their homes, their altars, and their graves the sacred light of religious liberty, and the glory of unfettered worship. "His praise is in the Church," and this is the pledge of the immortality of his glory. "A people's voice" may be "the proof and echo of all Human fame," but the voice of the undying Church, is the echo of "everlasting glory," and, when those who surround his grave to-day shall have passed away, all future generations of Irishmen to the end of time will be reminded of his name and glory. THE INDULGENCE OF PORTIUNCULA. Towards the middle of the fourth century, four pilgrims from Palestine came to settle in the neighborhood of Assisi, and built a chapel there. Nearly two centuries after, this little chapel passed into the hands of the monks of St. Benedict, who owned some lots, or _portions_ of land, in the vicinity, whence came the name of _Portiuncula_, given first to those little plots of ground, and afterwards to the chapel itself. St. Bonaventure says that, later still, it was called "Our Lady of Angels," because the heavenly spirits frequently appeared there. St. Francis, at the outset of his penitential life, going one day through the fields about Assisi, heard a voice which said to him: "Go, repair my house!" He thought the Lord demanded of him to repair the sanctuaries in which He was worshipped, and, amongst others, the Church of St. Damian, a little way from Assisi, which was falling to decay. He went to work, therefore, begging in the streets of Assisi, and crying out: "He who giveth me a stone shall have one blessing--he who giveth me two, shall have two." Meanwhile, Francis often bent his steps towards the little chapel of the Portiuncula, built about half a league from Assisi, in a fertile valley, in the midst of a profound solitude. The place had great charms for him, and he resolved to take up his abode there, but as the little chapel was urgently in need of repair, he undertook to do it, following, as he thought, the orders he had received from Heaven. He made himself a cell in the hollow of a neighboring rock, and there spent several years in great austerities. Some disciples, having joined him, inhabited caverns which they found in the rocks around, and some built themselves cells. This was the origin of the Order of St. Francis. The _Portiuncula_, or Our Lady of Angels, afterwards given to the holy penitent by the Benedictine Abbot of Monte Soubasio, thus became the cradle of the three orders founded by the Seraphic Patriarch, and is unspeakably dear to every child of St. Francis. [1] [Footnote 1: The little chapel of the Portiuncula is now inclosed beneath the dome of the great basilica of Our Lady of Angels, built to preserve it from the injuries of the weather. It stands there still with its rough, antique walls, in all the prestige of its marvellous past. "I know not what perfume of holy poverty," says a pious author, "exhales from that venerable chapel. The pavement within is literally worn by the knees of the pious faithful, and their repeated and burning kisses have left their imprint on its walls."] Francis, in the midst of his prodigious austerities, living always in the greatest privation, united, nevertheless, the most tender compassion for men and a marvellous love for poverty. He prayed above all, and with tears and groans, for the conversion of sinners. But one night--it was in October, 1221--Francis being inspired with a greater love and a deeper pity for men who were offending their God and Saviour, shedding torrents of tears, macerating his body, already attenuated by excessive mortifications, hears, all at once, the voice of an Angel commanding him to repair to the chapel of the Portiuncula. Ravished with joy, he rises immediately, and entering with profound respect into the chapel, he falls prostrate on the ground, to adore the majesty of God. He then sees Our Lord Jesus Christ, who appears to him, accompanied by His Holy Mother and a great multitude of Angels, and says to him: "Francis, thou and thy brethren have a great zeal for the salvation of souls; indeed, you have been placed as a torch in the world and as the support of the Church. Ask, then, whatsoever thou wilt for the welfare and consolation of nations, and for My glory." In the midst of the wonders which ravished him, Francis made this prayer: "Our most holy Father, I beseech Thee, although I am but a miserable sinner, to have the goodness to grant to men, that all those who shall visit this Church may receive a plenary indulgence of all their sins, after having confessed to a priest; and I beseech the Blessed Virgin, Thy Mother, the advocate of mankind, to intercede, that I may obtain this favor." The merciful Virgin interceded, and Our Lord said to Francis: "What thou dost ask is great, nevertheless thou shalt receive still greater favors. I grant it to thee, but I will that it be ratified on earth by him to whom I have given the power of binding and loosening." The companions of the Saint overheard this colloquy between Our Lord and St. Francis; they beheld numerous troops of Angels, and a great light that filled the Church, but a respectful fear prevented them from approaching. Next day Francis set out, accompanied by one of his brethren, and repaired to Perugia, where Pope Honorius III. then was. The Saint, introduced to the Pontiff, repeated the order he had received from Our Lord Jesus Christ Himself, and conjured him not to refuse what the Son of God had been pleased to grant him. "But," said the Sovereign Pontiff, "thou askest of me something very great, and the Roman Court is not wont to grant such an indulgence." "Most Holy Father," replied Francis, "I ask it not of myself; it is Jesus Christ who sendeth me. I come on His behalf." Wherefore the Pope said publicly three times: _"I will that thou have it."_ The Cardinals made several objections; but Honorius, at length convinced of the will of God, granted most liberally, most gratuitously, and in perpetuity, this indulgence solicited so earnestly, yet with so much humility, _but only during one natural day, from evening till evening, including the night, till sunset on the following day._ At these words, Francis humbly bowed his head. As he was going away, the Pope demanded of him: "Whither goest thou, simple man? What assurance hast thou of that which thou hast obtained?" "Holy Father," he replied, "thy word is sufficient for me; if this Indulgence be the work of God, He Himself will make it manifest. Let Jesus Christ, His holy Mother and the Angels be in that regard, notary, paper and witness; I ask no other authentic act." Such was the effect of the great confidence he felt in the truth of the apparition. The Indulgence of the Portiuncula had been two years granted, and still the day when the faithful might gain it was not fixed. Francis waited till Jesus Christ, the first Author of a grace so precious, should determine it. Meanwhile, one night, when Francis was at prayer in his cell, the tempter suggested to him to diminish his penances: feeling the malice of the demon, he goes into the woods, and rolls himself amongst briers and thorns until he is covered with blood. A great light shines around him, he sees a quantity of white and red roses all about, although it is the month of January, in a very severe winter. God had changed the thorny shrubs into magnificent rose-bushes, which have ever since remained green and without thorns, and covered with red and white roses. [1] Angels, who appeared then in great numbers, said to him: "Francis, hasten to the church; Jesus is there with His holy Mother." At the same moment, he was clothed in a spotless white habit, and having reached the church, after a profound obeisance, he made this prayer: "Our Father, Most Holy Lord of heaven and earth, Saviour of mankind, vouchsafe, through Thy great mercy, to fix the day for the Indulgence Thou hast had the goodness to grant." Our Lord replied that He would have it to be from the evening of the day on which the Apostle St. Peter was bound with chains till the following day. He then ordered Francis to present himself to his vicar, and give him some white and red roses in proof of the truth of the fact, and to bring some of his companions who might bear testimony of what they had heard. [Footnote 1: "We have received from Rome," says the editor of the "Almanac of the Souls in Purgatory," "some leaves from these miraculous rose-bushes. We will willingly give some to the devout clients of St. Francis."] The Pope, convinced by proofs so incontestable, confirmed the Indulgence with all its privileges. The Indulgence of the Portiuncula, was soon known throughout the whole world; and the prodigies which were seen wrought every year at St. Mary of Angels, excited the devotion of the faithful to gain it. Many times there were seen there fifty thousand, and even a hundred thousand persons assembled together from all parts. Meanwhile, in order to facilitate the means of gaining an Indulgence so admirable, the Sovereign Pontiffs extended it to all the churches of the three Orders of St. Francis, and it may be gained by all the faithful indiscriminately. "Of all Indulgences," said Bourdaloue, "that of the Portiuncula is one of the surest and most authentic that there is in the Church, since it is an Indulgence granted immediately by Jesus Christ, a privilege peculiar to itself, and this Indulgence has spread amongst all Christian people with a marvellous progress of souls, and a sensible increase of piety." The Indulgence of the Great Pardon has another very special privilege; it is, that it may be gained _totus quotus_--that is to say, as often as one visits a church to which it is attached, and prays for the Sovereign Pontiff; and this privilege may be enjoyed from the 1st of August about two o'clock in the afternoon, till sunset on the following day. Pope Boniface VIII. said that it is "most pious to gain that Indulgence several times for oneself; for, although by the first gaining of a plenary Indulgence, the penalty be remitted, by seeking to gain it again, one receives an augmentation of grace and of glory that crowns all their good works." Besides, this Indulgence can be applied to the Souls in Purgatory, as it can be also gained for the living by way of satisfaction, provided they be in the state of grace. It was one day revealed to St. Margaret of Cortona that the Souls in Purgatory eagerly look forward every year to the Feast of Our Lady of Angels, because it is a day of deliverance for a great number of them. While speaking of the Indulgence of the Portiuncula, we are naturally disposed to say a few words in regard to the grievous outrage recently committed on that place, venerated for more than six hundred years by all Christian nations, and manifestly chosen as the object of divine predilection by all the prodigies there wrought. The Italian government had unlawfully, and in a sacrilegious manner, possessed itself of the Convent of the Portiuncula; and notwithstanding the protest of all the members of the Order of St. Francis, and the indignation excited by so arbitrary an act in every Catholic heart, those iniquitous men put it up for sale, and actually sold it by public auction. The Minister General of the Franciscan Order, unwilling that this brightest gem of the Franciscan crown should fall into impious hands, resolved to have it purchased for him by a lay person. But how was this to be done, when he had no revenue, often not means enough for necessary expenses? a grave question, truly, for the children of St. Francis, who might have seen themselves bereft of the cradle of their Order, were it not that, at the critical moment, a man of a truly Christian heart came forward and advanced the thirty-four thousand francs, the price to which their precious relic had been raised. Thus, God would not permit that so many memories connected with His servant Francis should be effaced from the earth, although they would still have lived in the hearts of his children, and the Friars Minors are still the owners and possessors of that venerable sanctuary. [1]-- _Almanac of the Souls in Purgatory_, 1881. [Footnote 1: Nevertheless, means must be taken to pay back this sum so seasonably advanced. Hence it is, that at the request of the Minister General of the Franciscans, Father Marie, of Brest, has made a touching appeal to all friends of the Order and of justice, and has opened subscription lists wherever there are children of St. Francis, and there are children of St. Francis all over the world. These lists, with the names of the pious donors, shall be sent to Assisium, to be preserved there in the very sanctuary of the Portiuncula.--ED. AL.] CATHERINE OF CARDONA. Catherine of Cardona was born in the very highest rank. She was but eight years old when she lost her father, Raymond of Cardona, who was descended from the kings of Aragon. Catherine had already made herself remarkable by her love of prayer, solitude, and mortification, and by her admirable fidelity to grace she had drawn down upon herself, at an age still so tender, the signal favor of Heaven. One day, whilst absorbed in prayer in her little oratory, her father appeared to her enveloped in the flames of Purgatory, and, conjuring her to deliver him, he said to her: "Daughter, I shall remain in this fire until thou hast done penance for me." With a heart full of compassion, Catherine promised her father to satisfy the divine justice for him, and the vision disappeared. From that moment Catherine, rising above the weakness of her age and sex, applied herself to those amazing austerities which have made her a prodigy of penance. To open Heaven to her father, she freely sheds, in bloody scourgings, the first fruits of that virginal blood which is to flow for half a century in innumerable torments. Magnanimous child, she is already the martyr of filial piety, but her tears, her mortifications, her prayers have disarmed the divine justice and discharged the paternal debt. Raymond, resplendent with the glory of the blessed, appears again to his daughter, and addresses her in these words: "God has accepted thy penance, my daughter, and I go to enjoy His glory. By that penance, thou hast become so pleasing to Jesus Christ that He has chosen thee for His spouse. Continue all thy life to immolate thyself as a victim for the salvation of souls; such is His divine will." With these words, which filled the heart of Catherine with joy unspeakable, he goes to Heaven to sing the mercies of his God, and to intercede with Him, in his turn, for the beloved daughter who was his liberator. Oh! happy, thrice happy Catherine! Whilst accomplishing an act of filial piety, she gained the title of Spouse of Christ, and secured for herself a powerful intercessor in heaven.--_Almanac of the Souls in Purgatory, 1881._ The life of the little Catherine was so admirable that we cannot resist the desire of giving some extracts from it here. It will be so much the more appropriate that her whole life was consecrated to the relief of the souls in Purgatory and the salvation of men. Overwhelmed with the happiness of seeing herself chosen for the spouse of the God of Virgins, Catherine consecrates herself entirely to Him, and promises inviolable fidelity to Him. Rejoiced to belong to the same Spouse as the Agathas and Agnesses, she makes a vow of perpetual virginity, and exclaims in the fullness of her bliss: "Thou alone, mine Adorable Beloved, Thou alone shalt reign over my heart, Thou alone shalt have dominion over it for all eternity!" Then Jesus invisibly places on her finger the marriage ring, and endows with strength her who aspires only to die with Him on the cross. Catherine, who, after the death of her father, was placed under the care of the Princess of Salerno, a near relative of her mother, leads in the palace of the princess a life no less rigorous than that of the penitents of the desert; but she will have no other witness of it than He by whom she alone desires to be loved. Condemned by her rank to wear rich clothing, she values only the glorious vesture of the soul, which is grace. The hair-cloth that macerates her flesh is her chosen garment. At that age, when people allow themselves to be dazzled by the world, Catherine of Cardona has trampled it beneath her feet, and later on, becoming entirely free from the slavery of the world, she retires to the Capuchin Convent at Naples, and there prepares, by a seclusion of twenty-five years, to give to the great ones of the earth an example of the most sublime virtues. Called by the Princess of Salerno to share her disfavor with the king, she hesitates not to quit her dear solitude, and repairs to Spain, in 1557. Her presence at Valladolid was an eloquent sermon, and produced the happiest fruits in souls. The Princess died at the end of two years; and Philip II., knowing the wisdom of Catherine, kept her at the Court, appointing her as governess to Don Carlos, his son, and the young Don Juan of Austria, afterwards the hero of Lepanto. In 1562, Our Lord, in a vision, says to Catherine: "Depart from this palace; retire to a solitary cave, where thou mayest more freely apply thyself to prayer and penance." At these words, the soul of Catherine is inundated with joy, and she feels that no worldly obstacle could restrain her. She would fain set out forthwith, but her spiritual guides opposed her doing so. Finally, after many trials, whilst she was in prayer, before the dawn, the crucifix she wore hanging from her neck, suddenly rose into the air, and said: "Follow me!" She followed it to a window on the ground-floor; and although it was fastened with great iron bars, Catherine, without knowing how, found herself in the street. Transported with joy at this new miracle, she flew to the place where the Hermit of Alcada and another priest were waiting to conduct her to the desert. Seeing the heroic virgin, they blessed Him who had thus broken her chains. In order that she might not be recognized they cut off her hair, gave her a hermit's robe, and set out without delay. Arriving at a small hill about four leagues from Roda, Catherine said to her guides: "Here it is that God will have me take up my abode; let us go no farther." After a careful search they discovered amongst thorny hedges difficult to get through, a species of grotto sufficiently deep; but the entrance thereto was so narrow, and the roof so low, that Catherine, who was of medium height and rather full figure, could hardly stand upright in it. The two guides of the holy recluse, taking leave of her, left her some instruments of penance, and three loaves, for all provision. There it was that the daughter of the Duke of Cardona commenced, in 1562, that admirable life which has been the wonder of all succeeding ages. Teresa, the seraphic Teresa, who lived at that time not far from Catherine's solitude, cried out in a transport of admiration: "Oh! how great must be the love that transported her, since she thought neither of food, nor danger, nor the disgrace her flight might bring upon her; what must be the intoxication of that holy soul, flying thus to the desert, solely engrossed by the desire of enjoying there without obstacle the presence of her Spouse! And how firm must be her resolution to break with the world, since she thus fled from all its pleasures!" St. Teresa adds that Catherine spent more than eight years in this desert cave, that after having exhausted the small provision of three loaves left her by the hermit who had served her as a guide, she had lived solely on roots and wild herbs, but that, after several years, she met with a shepherd, who thenceforward faithfully supplied her with bread, of which she, nevertheless, ate but once in three days. The discipline which she took with a large chain lasted often for an hour and a half, and sometimes two hours. Her hair-cloth was so rough that a woman, returning from a pilgrimage, having asked hospitality of her, told me (it is still St. Teresa who speaks), that feigning sleep, she saw the holy recluse take off her hair-cloth and wipe it clean, for it was full of blood. The warfare she had to sustain against the demons made her suffer still more than her austerities; she told our sisters that they appeared to her, now in the form of great dogs who sprang on her shoulders, and now in that of snakes; but do as they might, they could not make her afraid. She heard Mass in a convent of the Sisters of Mercy, a quarter of a league distant; sometimes she made the journey on her knees. She wore a tunic of coarse serge, and over that a robe of drugget so fashioned that she was taken for a man. Nevertheless, the fame of her sanctity soon spread everywhere, and the people conceived so great a veneration for her that they flocked from every side, so that, on certain days, the surrounding country was covered with vehicles full of people going to see her. "About this time," says St. Teresa, "she was seized with a great desire to found near her cave a monastery of religious, but being undecided in her choice of the order, she postponed for a time the execution of her design. One day while at prayer before a crucifix which she always carried about her, Our Lord showed her a white mantle, and gave her to understand that she was to found a monastery of barefooted Carmelites. She knew not till then that such an order existed, as she had never heard it mentioned; indeed, we had then but two monasteries of reformed Carmelites, that of Moncera and that of Pastrana. Catherine was speedily informed of the existence of this last. As Pastrana belonged to the Princess of Eboli, her former friend, she set out for that town with the firm resolution of doing what Our Lord had enjoined her to do. It was at Pastrana, in the church of our religious, that the Blessed Catherine took the habit of Our Lady of Mount Carmel, having no intention, notwithstanding that act, to embrace the religious life. Our Lord conducted her by another way, and she never felt any attraction towards that state. What kept her away from it was the fear of being obliged through obedience to moderate her austerities and quit her solitude." As she had worn man's apparel ever since she had been in the desert, she would not now change it. So, in laying aside her hermit's robe, and assuming that of Carmel, she took a habit like that of the barefooted Carmelite monks, and wore it till her last breath. In this Catherine was led by a very special way. Catherine had been preceded at Pastrana by the account of the wonders which had marked the eight years she had spent in her cave; she was thus greeted as a saint as soon as she appeared; no one was surprised to see her in her Carmelite habit, a cowl on her head, a white mantle on her shoulders, a robe of coarse drugget, and a leathern girdle. God permitted the appearance of Catherine at the court of Philip II. as a virgin with the heart of a man, victorious over all the weakness, of her sex, and rivalling in her austerities the most famous penitents of the desert. At the Escurial, she observed the same abstinence as in her hermitage; there, as in her cave, she took but one hour's sleep, and gave to prayer the rest of the time at her disposal. From the Escurial, Catherine returned to Madrid. From the carriage in which she rode, she gave her blessing to the multitudes who crowded the road as she passed. ... The Nuncio, having sent for her, reproached her for wearing the apparel of a man, and for taking it upon her to give her blessing, like a bishop. The humble virgin heard all prostrate on the ground. When the Nuncio had finished speaking, she arose and justified herself with that holy simplicity peculiar to herself. The legate of the Holy See, perceiving then that God was leading the Blessed Catherine by an extraordinary way, left her at liberty to wear that costume, blessed her, and recommended himself to her prayers. In Madrid Catherine again met Don Juan of Austria, who had been appointed Generalissimo of the Christian fleet directed against the Turks. He gave her the name of mother, and regarded her as a Saint. After having given some wise counsel to the young prince, she predicted to him that he should obtain a victory over the enemies of the Christian name. It was a happy day in the life of Don Juan on which he heard these prophetic words. Kneeling on the ground, with clasped hands and tearful eyes, the future liberator of Christendom asked Catherine's blessing, and arose with a heart strengthened by an invincible hope. The Carmelites of Toledo, amongst whom she spent some time, endeavoring to persuade her to diminish her austerities a little, she replied in these memorable words, which reveal to us the secret of her life: "When one has seen, as I have, what Purgatory and Hell are, one cannot do too much to draw souls from one, and preserve them from the other; I may not spare myself, since I have offered myself in sacrifice for them." On the 7th October, 1571, Catherine was warned by a light from above that the great combat against the Turks was to take place that day. She macerated herself with fearful rigor, and offered herself as a victim to the anger of God, justly indignant at the sins of His people. She addressed to the Saviour of men the most tender supplications, when, all at once, seized with a holy transport, she uttered in a distinct voice these words, which were heard by several persons of the Court: "O Lord, the hour is come, help Thy Church; give the victory to the Catholic chiefs; have pity on so many kingdoms which are Thine own, preserve them from ruin! The wind is against us: my God, if Thou order it not to change, we perish!" Some time after, she cried out in a still stronger voice: "Blessed be Thou, O Lord, Thou hast changed the wind at the needful moment; finish what Thou hast begun!" After these words she prayed in silence for a long space of time. Then, starting up joyfully, she offered to God the most lively thanksgivings for the victory He had just granted to His Church. Soon, in fact, the news of the victory of Lepanto confirmed the miraculous vision of Catherine. Don Juan wrote immediately to the venerable Catherine of Cardona, thanking her for her prayers, and sent her, as a memento, some spoils taken from the enemy. Catherine having received, at the Court and elsewhere, sufficient means to found her monastery, regained her solitude in the month of March, 1572. She lived there five years longer. It has been considered as a supernatural thing that mortifications so extraordinary as hers had not ended her life sooner. She died on the 11th of May, 1577. "One day," says St. Teresa, "after having received communion in the church of this monastery (that which Catherine had founded), I entered into a profound recollection, which was soon followed by an ecstasy. Whilst I was thus ravished out of myself, that holy woman appeared to my intellectual vision, resplendent with light like a glorified body, and surrounded by angels. She said to me: 'Weary not of founding monasteries, but rather pursue that work with ardor.' I understood, albeit that she did not say so, that she was assisting me with God. This apparition left me exceedingly comforted, and inflamed with the desire of working for Our Lord's glory. Hence, I hope from His divine goodness and the powerful prayers of that Saint, that I may be able to do something for His service." THE EMPEROR NICHOLAS PRAYING FOR HIS MOTHER. Heretics or Schismatics care very little about contradicting themselves. It is of the nature of the iniquity of lying. The _Anti de la Religion_, of March 1, 1851, judiciously observes: "It is well known that the Russian Church pretends not to admit the doctrine of Purgatory, which one of its principal prelates set down as '_a crude modern invention._' Nevertheless, the manifesto recently published by the Emperor Nicholas, on the death of his mother, the Grand Duchess Elizabeth, Duchess of Nassau, concludes with these words: 'We are convinced that all our faithful subjects will unite their prayers with ours, _for the repose of the soul_ of the deceased.' How are we to reconcile this request for prayers with the denial of Purgatory, coming as it does from the mouth of the supreme pontiff of the Church of Russia?"--"_Christian Anecdotes._" FUNERAL ORATION ON PIUS VI. REV. ARTHUR O'LEARY, O S F. Thou hast lifted me up, and cast me down. My days are like a shadow; that declineth, and I am withered like grass; but thou, O Lord, shall, endure forever.--Ps. cii., verses 10, 11, 12. Yes! O my God! You lift up and you cast down; you humble and you exalt the sons of men. You cut off the breath of princes, and are terrible to the kings of the earth. It is then we know your power, when, by the stroke of death, we feel what we are, that our life is but as a shadow that declineth, a vapor dispersed by the beams of the rising sun, or as the grass which loses at noon the verdure it had acquired from the morning dew. It is a truth of which we, are made sensible upon this mournful occasion, and in this sacred temple, where the trophies of death are displayed, and its image reflected on every side. The mournful accents of the solemn dirge, the sable drapery that lines these walls, the vestments of the ministers of the sacred altar, this artificial darkness which is a figure of the darkness of the grave;-- the tapers that blaze around the sanctuary to put us in mind that when our mortal life is extinct, there is an immortal life beyond the grave, in a kingdom of light and bliss reserved for those who walk on earth by the light of the gospel;--that tomb, in which the tiara and the sceptre, the Pontifical dignity, and the power of the temporal prince, are covered over with a funeral shroud,--every object that strikes the eye, and every sound that vibrates on the ear, is an awful memento which reminds us of our approaching dissolution, points out the vanity and nothingness of all earthly grandeur, and convinces, us that in holiness of life, which unites us to God and secures an immortal crown in the enjoyment of the sovereign good, consists the greatness as well as the happiness of man. An awful truth exemplified in many great characters, hurled from the summit of power and grandeur into an abyss of woe, whose unshaken virtue supported them under the severest trials, and whose greatness of soul shone conspicuous in their fall as well as in their elevation. A truth particularly exemplified in His Holiness Pope Pius VI., whose obsequies we are assembled to solemnize on this day--Pius VI. great in prosperity; Pius VI. great in adversity. When his life is written by an impartial hand, when his contemporaries are dead, when history lays open the hidden and mysterious springs of the events connected with his reign, and posterity erects a tribunal, at which it is to judge, without dread of giving offence, then his virtues and wisdom will appear in their true light, as the symmetry and proportion of those beautiful statues, which are placed in the porticoes or entrance of temples and public edifices, are better discovered, and seen to a greater advantage at a certain distance. * * * * * Though His life was spotless, yet as the judgments of God are unsearchable, as there is such a quantity of dross mixed with our purest gold, such chaff with our purest grain, our purest virtues tarnished with so many imperfections, that on appearing in the presence of God, into whose Kingdom the slightest stain is not admitted, who can say, "My soul is pure; I have nothing to answer for?" as in our belief, divine justice may inflict temporary as well as eternal punishments beyond the grave, according to the quality of unexpiated offences, let us perform the sacred rites of our holy religion for the repose of his soul. [1] [Footnote 1: These extracts are taken from the funeral oration on Pius VI, delivered at St. Patrick's Chapel, Soho, in presence of Monsignore Erskine, Papal Auditor, on the 10th Nov., 1799.] FROM THE FUNERAL ORATION ON THE REV. ARTHUR. O'LEARY, O.S.F. REV. MORGAN D'ARCY. My brethren, as it is God alone, that searcher of hearts, who can truly appreciate the merits of His elect, as it belongs only to the Holy Catholic Church, "_that pillar and ground of truth_," to canonize them, as we know that nothing impure can enter into heaven, and that Moses himself, that great legislator, and peculiar favorite of heaven, was not entirely spotless in the discharge of his ministry, nor exempt from temporal punishment at his death, let us no longer interrupt the awful mysteries and impressive ceremonies of religion, but, uniting, and, as it were, embodying our prayers and fervent supplications, let us offer a holy violence to heaven; while we mingle our tears with the precious blood of the spotless Victim offered in sacrifice on our hallowed altar, let us implore the Father of Mercies, through the merits and passion of His adorable Son, our merciful Redeemer, to purify this His minister, and admit him to a participation of the never-ending joys of the heavenly Jerusalem. May he rest in peace. _Amen_. DE MORTUIS. OUR DECEASED PRELATES. [From a Sermon delivered by Most Rev. ARCHBISHOP CORRIGAN, of NEW YORK, at the THIRD PLENARY COUNCIL of BALTIMORE.] Remember your prelates who have spoken the Word of God to you. Heb. c. xiii. v. 2. Of the forty-six Fathers who sat in the Second Plenary Council, only sixteen still survive. More than this. During the few years that have since elapsed not only have thirty bishops and archbishops gone to the house of their eternity, but in several instances, their successors, too, have passed away, so that the Solemn Requiem offered this morning for the prelates who have died since the last Council is chanted for forty-two consecrated rulers. For these, "as it is a good and wholesome thought to pray for the dead," we send up our sighs and our prayers in the spirit of fraternal charity, and as a tribute of love and gratitude to our Fathers in the faith who had the burden of the day and the heat, and who now rest from their labors. "Blessed are the dead who die in the Lord. From henceforth now, saith the Spirit,... for their works follow them." In the commemorative services and solemn supplications offered in this cathedral, the first place, dear brethren, is deservedly due to your own lamented archbishops.... Besides these, memory turns, with fond regret, to a long list of Right Reverend Prelates, who were all present at the late Plenary Council, and who have since, one by one, passed away.... As we repeat each well-known name, hosts of pleasant memories come crowding on the mind just as by-gone scenes are awakened to new life by some sweet strain of once familiar music. Venerable forms loom up again before us with the paternal kindness, the distinguished presence, the winning ways we knew so well of old; and while the vision lasts we seem to hear a still small voice saying: "To-day for me, to- morrow for thee," or the echo of the words spoken by the wise woman of Thecua to the king on his throne: "We all die, and fall down into the earth, like waters that return no more." "Star differeth from star in glory." The bishops, whose virtues we commemorate, differed in gifts of mind, in habits of thought, in nationality, in early training, in personal experience, in almost everything else but their common faith. This golden bond united them to each other and to us. There was still another point of resemblance and another link that bound them all together--the participation in the divine work of the Good Shepherd which was laid upon them all.... PART IV. THOUGHTS OF VARIOUS AUTHORS ON PURGATORY. The fuel justice layeth on, And mercy blows the coals, The metal in this furnace wrought Is men's defiled souls.--SOUTHWELL. THOUGHTS OF VARIOUS AUTHORS ON PURGATORY. PURGATORY. CARDINAL NEWMAN. Thus we see how, as time went on, the doctrine of Purgatory was brought home to the minds of the faithful as a portion or form of penance due for post-baptismal sin. And thus the apprehension of this doctrine, and the practice of Infant Baptism, would grow into general reception together. Cardinal Fisher gives another reason for Purgatory being then developed out of earlier points of faith. He says: "Faith, whether in Purgatory or in Indulgences, was not so necessary in the Primitive Church as now; for then love so burned that every one was ready to meet death for Christ. Crimes were rare; and such as occurred were avenged by the great severity of the Canons.... The doctrine of post-baptismal sin, especially when realized in the doctrine of Purgatory, leads the inquirer to fresh developments beyond itself. Its effect is to convert a Scripture statement, which might seem only of temporary application, into a universal and perpetual truth. When St. Paul and St. Barnabas would 'confirm the souls of the disciples,' they taught them 'that we must, through much tribulation, enter into the kingdom of God.' It is obvious what very practical results would follow on such an announcement in the instance of those who accepted the apostolic decision; and, in like manner, a conviction that sin must have its punishment, here or hereafter, and that we all must suffer, how overpowering will be its effect, what a new light does it cast on the history of the soul, what a change does it make in our judgment of the external world, what a reversal of our natural wishes and aims for the future! Is a doctrine conceivable which would so elevate the mind above this present state, and teach it so successfully to dare difficult things, and to be reckless of danger and pain? He who believes that suffer he must, and that delayed punishment may be the greater, will be above the world, will admire nothing, fear nothing, desire nothing. He has within his breast a source of greatness, self-denial, heroism. This is the secret spring of strenuous efforts and persevering toil; of the sacrifice of fortune, friends, ease, reputation, happiness. There is, it is true, a higher class of motives which will be felt by the Saints; who will do from love what all Christians who act acceptably do from faith. And, moreover, the ordinary measures of charity which Christians possess suffice for securing such respectable attention to religious duties as the routine necessities of the Church require. But, if we would raise an army of devoted men to resist the world, to oppose sin and error, to relieve misery, or to propagate truth, we must be provided with motives which keenly affect the many. Christian love is too rare a gift, philanthropy is too weak a material, for that occasion. Nor is there an influence to be found to suit our purpose besides this solemn conviction, which arises out of the very rudiments of Christian theology, and is taught by its most ancient masters,--this sense of the awfulness of post-baptismal sin. It is in vain to look out for missionaries for China or Africa, or evangelists for our great towns, or Christian attendants on the sick, or teachers of the ignorant, on such a scale of numbers as the need requires, without the doctrine of Purgatory. For thus the sins of youth are turned to account by the profitable penance of manhood; and terrors, which the philosopher scorns in the individual, become the benefactors, and earn the gratitude of nations."--_Essay on the Development of Christian Doctrine_, [1] p. 386. [Footnote 1: Nevertheless, means must be taken to pay back this sum so seasonably advanced. Hence it is, that at the request of the Minister General of the Franciscans, Father Marie, of Brest, has made a touching appeal to all.] OUR DEBT TO THE DEAD. CARDINAL MANNING The Saints, by their intercession and their patronage, unite us with God. They watch over us; they pray for us; they obtain graces for us. Our guardian angels are round about us: they watch over and protect us. The man who has not piety enough to ask their prayers must have a heart but little like to the love and veneration of the Sacred Heart of Jesus. But there are other friends of God to whom we owe a debt of piety. They are those who are suffering beyond the grave, in the silent kingdom of pain and expiation--in the dark and yet blessed realm of purification; that is to say, the multitudes who pass out of this world, washed in the Precious Blood, perfectly absolved of all guilt of sin, children and friends of God, blessed souls, heirs of the kingdom of Heaven, all but Saints; nevertheless, they are not yet altogether purified for His kingdom. They are there detained--kept back from His presence--until their expiation is accomplished. You and I, and every one of us, will pass through that place of expiation. Neither you nor I are Saints, nor, upon earth, ever will be; therefore, before we can see God, we must be purified by pain in that silent realm. But those blessed souls are friends of God next after His Saints; and in the same order they ought to be the objects of our piety; that is, of our love and compassion, of our sympathy and our prayers. They can do nothing now for themselves: they have no longer any Sacraments; they do not even pray for themselves. They are so conformed to the will of God that they suffer there in submission and in silence. They desire nothing except that His will should be accomplished. Therefore, it is our duty to help them--to help them by our prayers, our penances, our mortifications, our alms, by the Holy Sacrifice of the Altar. There may be father and mother, brother and sister, friend and child, whom you have loved as your own life: they may now be there. Have you forgotten them? Have you no pity for them now, no natural piety, no spirit of love for them? Do you forget them all the day long? Look back upon those who made your home in your early childhood, the light of whose faces you can still see shining in your memories, and the sweetness of whose voice is still in your ears--do you forget them because they are no longer seen? Is it, indeed, "out of sight, out of mind"? What an impiety of heart is this! The Catholic Church, the true mother of souls, cherishes, with loving memory, all her departed. Never does a day pass but she prays for them at the altar; never does a year go by that there is not a special commemoration of all her children departed on one solemn day, which is neither feast nor fast, but a day of the profoundest piety and of the deepest compassion. Surely, then, if we have the spirit of piety in our hearts, the holy souls will be a special object of our remembrance and our prayers. How many now are there whom we have known in life? There are those who have been grievously afflicted, and those who have been very sinful, but, through the Precious Blood and a death-bed repentance, have been saved at last. Have you forgotten them? Are you doing nothing for them? There may also be souls there for whom there is no one to pray on earth; there may be souls who are utterly forgotten by their own kindred, outcast from all remembrance; and yet the Precious Blood was shed for their sakes. If no one remember, them now, you, at least, if you have in your hearts the gift of piety, will pray for them.--_Internal Mission of the Holy Ghost, p._ 247. PURGATORY CARDINAL WISEMAN. I need hardly observe, that there is not a single liturgy existing, whether we consider the most ancient period of the Church, or the most distant part of the world, in which this doctrine is not laid down. In all Oriental liturgies, we find parts appointed, in which the Priest or Bishop is ordered to pray for the souls of the faithful departed; and tables were anciently kept in the churches, called the _Dyptichs_, on which the names of the deceased were enrolled, that they might be remembered in the Sacrifice of the Mass and the prayers of the faithful. The name of Purgatory scarcely requires a passing comment. It has, indeed, been made a topic of abuse, on the ground that it is not to be found in Scripture. But where is the word Trinity to be met with? Where is the word _Incarnation_ to be read in Scripture? Where are many other terms, held most sacred and important in the Christian religion? The doctrines are, indeed, found there; but these names were not given, until circumstances had rendered them necessary. We see that the Fathers of the Church have called it a purging fire--a place of expiation or purgation. The idea is precisely, the name almost, the same. It has been said by divines of the English Church, that the two doctrines which I have joined together, of prayers for the dead and Purgatory, have no necessary connection, and that, in fact, they were not united in the ancient Church. The answer to this assertion I leave to your memories, after the passages which I have read you from the Fathers. They surely speak of purgation by fire after death, whereby the imperfections of this life are washed out, and satisfaction made to God for sins not sufficiently expiated; they speak, at the same time, of our prayers being beneficial to those who have departed this life in a state of sin; and these propositions contain our entire doctrine on Purgatory. It has also been urged that the established religion, or Protestantism, does not deny or discourage prayers for the dead, so long as they are independent of a belief in Purgatory; and, in this respect, it is stated to agree with the primitive Christian Church. But, my brethren, this distinction is exceedingly fallacious. Religion is a lively, practical profession; it is to be ascertained and judged by its sanctioned practices and outward demonstration, rather than by the mere opinions of the few. I would at once fairly appeal to the judgment of any Protestant, whether he has been taught, and has understood that such is the doctrine of his Church. If, from the services which he attended, or the Catechism which he has learned, or the discourses heard, he has been led to suppose that praying for the dead, in terms however general, was noways a peculiarity of Catholicism, but as much a permitted practice of Protestantism. It is a practical doctrine in the Catholic Church, it has an influence highly consoling to humanity, and eminently worthy of a religion that came down from heaven to second all the purest feelings of the heart. Nature herself seems to revolt at the idea that the chain of attachment which binds us together in life, can be rudely snapped asunder by the hand of death, conquered and deprived of its sting since the victory of the cross. But it is not to the spoil of mortality, cold and disfigured, that she clings with affection. It is but an earthly and almost unchristian grief, which sobs when the grave closes over the bier of a departed loved one: but the soul flies upward to a more spiritual affection, and refuses to surrender the hold which it had upon the love and interest of the spirit that has fled. Cold and dark as the sepulchral vault is the belief that sympathy is at an end when the body is shrouded in decay, and that no further interchange of friendly offices may take place between those who have lain down to sleep in peace and us, who for awhile strew fading flowers upon their tomb. But sweet is the consolation to the dying man, who, conscious of imperfection, believes that even after his own time of merit is expired, there are others to make intercession on his behalf; soothing to the afflicted survivors the thought, that instead of unavailing tears they possess more powerful means of actively relieving their friend, and testifying their affectionate regret, by prayer and supplication. In the first moments of grief, this sentiment will often overpower religious prejudice, cast down the unbeliever on his knees beside the remains of his friend, and snatch from him an unconscious prayer for rest; it is an impulse of nature, which for the moment, aided by the analogies of revealed truth, seizes at once upon this consoling belief. But it is only like the flitting and melancholy light which sometimes plays as a meteor over the corpses of the dead; while the Catholic feeling, cheering, though with solemn dimness, resembles the unfailing lamp which the piety of the ancients is said to have hung before the sepulchres of their dead. It prolongs the tenderest affections beyond the gloom of the grave, and it infuses the inspiring hope that the assistance which we on earth can afford to our suffering brethren, will be amply repaid when they have reached their place of rest, and make of them friends, who, when _we_ in our turns fail, shall receive us into everlasting mansions. [1] [Footnote 1: "Lectures on the Catholic Church," often called the "Moorfield Lectures," from being delivered in St. Mary's Moorfields, in the Lent of 1836. Vol. I., Lecture xi, pp 65,68. This lecture upon Purgatory is an admirable exposition of the Catholic doctrine, supported by numberless testimonies from the Fathers.] REPLY TO SOME MISSTATEMENTS ABOUT PURGATORY. ARCHBISHOP SPALDING, OF BALTIMORE. "The Synod of Florence," says this writer, [1] "was the first which taught the doctrine of Purgatory, as an article of faith. It had, indeed, been held by the Pope and by many writers, and it became the popular doctrine during the period under review; but it was not decreed by any authority of the universal, or even the whole Latin Church. In the Eastern Church it was always rejected." [Footnote 1: Rev. Wm. A. Palmer of Worcester College, Oxford, in his "Compendium of Ecclesiastical History."] Even admitting, for the sake of argument, that the Council of Florence was the first which defined this doctrine as an article of faith, would it thence follow that the doctrine itself was of recent origin? It could only be inferred that it was never before questioned, and that, therefore, there was no need of any definition on the subject. Would it follow from the fact, that the Council of Nice was the first general synod which defined the doctrine of the consubstantiality of the Son with the Father, that this, too, was a new doctrine, unknown to the three previous centuries? Mr. Palmer himself admits that this tenet of Purgatory "had become the popular doctrine during the period under review;" which, in connection with the solemn promises of Christ to guard His Church from error, clearly proves that it was an article of divine revelation,--on the principles even of our Oxford divine! It is not true that "it was always rejected in the Eastern Church." The Greek Church admitted it in the Council of Florence and, at least, impliedly, in that of Lyons. It had never been a bar to union between the churches, however their theologians may have differed on the secondary question, whether the souls detained in this middle place of temporary expiation are purified by a material fire. "The ancient Fathers, both of the Greek and Latin Church, who had occasion to refer to the subject, had unanimously agreed in maintaining the doctrine, as could be easily shown by reference to their works. All the ancient liturgies of both Churches had embodied this same article of faith. And even at present, not only the Greek Church, but all the Oriental sectaries still hold it as doctrine, and practice accordingly." COUNT DE MAISTRE ON PURGATORY. You have heard, in countries separated from the Roman Church, the _doctors of the law_ deny at once Hell and Purgatory. You might well have taken the denial of a word for that of a thing. An enormous power is that of words! The minister who would be angry at that of Purgatory will readily grant us a _place of expiation_, or an _intermediate state_, or perhaps even _stations_, who knows? without thinking it in the least ridiculous. One of the great motives of the sixteenth century revolt was precisely _Purgatory_. The insurgents would have nothing less than Hell, pure and simple. Nevertheless, when they became philosophers, they set about denying the eternity of punishment, allowing, nevertheless, a _hell for a time_, only through good policy and for fear of putting into heaven at one stroke Nero and Messalina side by side with St. Louis and St. Teresa. But a temporary hell is nothing else than Purgatory; so that having broken with us because they did not want Purgatory, they broke with us anew because they wanted Purgatory only. WHAT THE SAINTS THOUGHT OF PURGATORY. In the Special Announcement of the "Messenger of St. Joseph's Union" for 1885-6, we find the following interesting remarks in relation to the devotion to the Souls in Purgatory: "St. Gregory the Great, speaking of Purgatory, calls it 'a penitential fire harder to endure than all the tribulations of this world.' St. Augustine says that the torment of fire alone endured by the holy souls in Purgatory, exceeds all the tortures inflicted on the martyrs; and St. Thomas says that there is no difference between the fire of Hell and that of Purgatory. Prayer for the souls in Purgatory is a source of great blessings to ourselves. It is related of a holy religious who had for a long time struggled in vain to free himself from an impure temptation, and who appealed earnestly to the Blessed Virgin to deliver him, that she appeared to him and commanded him to pray earnestly for the souls in Purgatory. He did so, and from that time the temptation left him. The duration of the period of confinement in Purgatory is probably much longer than we are inclined to think. We find by the Revelations of Sister Francesca of Pampeluna that the majority of souls in Purgatory with whose sufferings she was made acquainted, were detained there for a period extending from thirty to sixty years; and, as many of those of whom she speaks were holy Carmelites, some of whom had even wrought miracles when on earth, what must be the fate of poor worldlings who seldom think of gaining an indulgence either for themselves or their departed friends and relatives? Father Faber commenting on this subject--the length of time that the holy souls are detained in Purgatory--says very justly: 'We are apt to leave off too soon praying for our parents, friends, or relatives, imagining with a foolish and unenlightened esteem for the holiness of their lives, that they are freed from Purgatory much sooner than they really are.' Can the holy souls in Purgatory assist us by their prayers? Most assuredly. St. Liguori says: 'Though the souls in Purgatory are unable to pray or merit for themselves, they can obtain by prayer many favors for those who pray for them on earth.' St. Catherine of Bologna has assured us that she obtained many favors by the prayers of the holy souls in Purgatory which she had asked in vain through the intercession of the saints. The Holy Ghost says: 'He who stoppeth his ear against the cry of the poor, shall also cry himself and shall not be heard,' and St. Vincent Ferrer says, in expounding that passage, that the holy souls in Purgatory cry to God for justice against those who on earth refuse to help them by their prayers, and that God will most assuredly hear their cry. Let us, therefore, do all in our power to relieve the holy souls in Purgatory, and avert from ourselves the punishment that God is sure to inflict on those whose faith is too dead, or whose hearts are too cold to heed the cry that rises, day and night, from that sea of fire: 'Have pity on me, have pity on me, at least you my friends!'" Job xix. 21. PURGATORY. CHATEAUBRIAND. That the doctrine of Purgatory opens to the Christian poet a source of the marvellous which was unknown to antiquity will be readily admitted. [1] Nothing, perhaps, is more favorable to the inspiration of the muse than this middle state of expiation between the region of bliss and that of pain, suggesting the idea of a confused mixture of happiness and of suffering. The graduation of the punishments inflicted on those souls that are more or less happy, more or less brilliant, according to their degree of proximity to an eternity of joy or of woe, affords an impressive subject for poetic description. In this respect, it surpasses the subjects of heaven and hell, because it possesses a future which they do not. [Footnote 1: Some trace of this dogma is to be found in Plato and in the doctrine of Zeno. (See Diog. Laer.) The poets also appear to have had some idea of it (Æneid, v. vi), but these notions are all vague and inconsequent.] The river Lethe was a graceful appendage of the ancient Elysium; but it cannot be said that the shades which came to life again on its banks exhibited the same poetical progress in the way to happiness that we behold in the souls of Purgatory. When they left the abodes of bliss to reappear among men, they passed from a perfect to an imperfect state. They re-entered the ring for the fight. They were born again to undergo a second death. In short, they came forth to see what they had already seen before. Whatever can be measured by the human mind is necessarily circumscribed. We may admit, indeed, that there was something striking and true in the circle by which the ancients symbolized eternity; but it seems to us that it fetters the imagination by confining it always within a dreaded enclosure. The straight line extended _ad infinitum_ would, perhaps, be more expressive, because it would carry our thoughts into a world of undefined realities, and would bring together three things which appear to exclude each other--hope, mobility, eternity. The apportionment of the punishment to the sin is another source of invention which is found in the purgatorial state, and is highly favorable to the sentimental.... If violent winds, raging fires, and icy cold, lend their influence to the torments of hell, why may not milder sufferings be derived from the song of the nightingale, from the fragrance of flowers, from the murmur of the brook, or from the moral affections themselves? Homer and Ossian tell us of the joy of grief _aruerou tetarpo mesthagolo_. Poetry finds its advantage also in that doctrine of Purgatory which teaches us that the prayers and other good works of the faithful may obtain the deliverance of souls from their temporal pains. How admirable is this intercourse between the living son and the deceased father--between the mother and daughter--between husband and wife-- between life and death. What affecting considerations are suggested by this tenet of religion! My virtue, insignificant being as I am, becomes the common property of Christians; and, as I participate in the guilt of Adam, so also the good that I possess passes to the good of others. Christian poets! the prayers of your Nisus will be felt, in their happy effects, by some Euryalus beyond the grave. The rich, whose charity you describe, may well share their abundance with the poor, for the pleasure which they take in performing this simple and grateful act will receive its regard from the Almighty in the release of their parents from the expiatory flame. What a beautiful feature in our religion to impel the heart of man to virtue by the power of love, and to make him feel that the very coin which gives bread for the moment to an indigent fellow-being, entitles, perhaps, some rescued soul to an eternal position at the table of the Lord. [1] [Footnote 1: "Genius of Christianity." Book II., Chap. xv. pp. 338- 340.] MARY AND THE FAITHFUL DEPARTED. BY BROTHER AZARIAS. Mary, from her nearness to Jesus, has imbibed many traits of the Sacred Heart of Jesus. She shares, in a preeminent degree, His Divine compassion for sorrow and suffering. Where He loves and pities, she also loves and pities. Nay, may we not well say that all enduring anguish of soul and writhing under the pangs of a lacerated heart, are especially dear to both Jesus and Mary? Was not Jesus the Man of Sorrows? and did He not constitute Mary the Mother of suffering and sorrowing humanity? And even as His Divine breast knew keenest sorrow, did not a sword of sorrow pierce her soul? She participated in the agony of Jesus only as such a Mother can share the agony of such a Son; in the tenderest manner, therefore, does she commiserate sorrow and suffering wherever found. Though now far beyond all touch of pain and misery, still as the devoted Mother of a pain-stricken race, she continues to watch, to shield, to aid and to strengthen her children in their wrestlings with these mysterious visitants. II. Nor does Mary's interest cease upon this side of the grave. It accompanies souls beyond. And when she beholds those souls undergoing their final purgation, before entering upon the enjoyment of the beatific vision, she pities them with a pity all the more heartfelt because their suffering is so much greater than any they could have endured in this life. See the state of those souls. They are in grace and favor with God; they are burning with love for Him; they are yearning, with a yearning boundless in its intensity, to drink refreshment of life, and love, and sanctification, and to be replenished with goodness and truth, and to perfect their natures at the Fountain-head of all truth, all goodness, all love, and all perfection. They are yearning; but so clearly and piercingly does the white light of God's truth and God's holiness shine through them and penetrate every fold and recess of their moral natures, and reveal to them every slightest imperfection, that they dare not approach Him and gratify their intense desire to be united with Him. Their weaknesses and imperfections; the traces in them of, and the attachments in them to, former sins, incident upon the frailties of feeble human nature, still cling to them, and must needs be consumed in the fiery ordeal of suffering before their enjoyment of the beatific vision can be completed and their union with the Godhead consummated. III. That there should be for souls after death such a state of purgation is all within the grasp of human reason. It is a doctrine that was taught in the remotest ages of the world. Here is a condensed version of the tradition as handed down in clearest terms, beautifully expressed by one of the world's greatest thinkers and writers: "All things are distinctly manifest in the soul after it has been divested of the body; and this is true both of the natural disposition of the soul and of the affections that the man has acquired from his various pursuits. When therefore the soul comes before the Judge ... the Judge finds all things distorted through pride and falsehood and whatsoever is unrighteous, for as much as the soul has been nurtured with untruth ... and he forthwith sends it to a prison state where it will undergo the punishment it deserves. But it behooveth that he that is punished, if he be justly punished, either become better and receive benefit from his punishment, or become a warning to others.... _But whoso are benefited ... are such as have been guilty of curable transgressions; their benefit here and hereafter [1] accrues to them through pains and torments; for it is impossible to get rid of injustice by other manner of means._" This reads like a page torn from one of the early Fathers of the Church. [2] More than five centuries before the Christian era it was penned by Plato. [3] Clearly does he draw the line between eternal punishment for unrepented crimes and temporal punishment for curable _Idmpa_ trangressions. Virgil in no uncertain tone echoes the same doctrine, making no exception to the rule that some corporeal stains and traces of ill follow all beyond the grave; _and therefore do they suffer punishment and pay the penalty of old wrongs._ [4] What antiquity has handed down, and reason has found to be just and proper, the Church has defined and decreed. She has gone further. She has supplemented and completed the pagan conception of expiation by that of intercession; and she has added thereto, for the comfort and consolation of the living and the dead, that the souls so suffering "may be helped by the suffrages of the faithful, but principally by the acceptable Sacrifice of the Altar." [5] And in her prayers for deceased friends, relatives and benefactors, she is mindful of Mary's sweet influence with her Son, and asks their deliverance through her intercession. [6] [Footnote 1: Kai enthude kai en Aidou] [Footnote 2: There is a passage in Clement of Alexandria, not unlike this in statement of the same doctrine ("Stromaton" 1. vi. m. 14, p. 794 Ed. Potter). The passage is quoted in "Faith of Catholics." Vol. Ill p. 142.] [Footnote 3: Gorgias, cap. lxxx, lxxxi.] [Footnote 4: Æneid, lib. vi. 735, 740.] [Footnote 5: Council of Trent, Sess. xxv. Decret. de Purgatorio, p. 204.] [Footnote 6: Beata Maria semper virgine intercedente.] The tendency to commune with the dead, and to pray for them, is strong and universal. It survives whatever systems or whatever creeds men may invent for its suppression. Samuel Johnson is professedly a staunch Protestant, bristling with prejudices, but a delicate moral sense enters the rugged manhood of his nature. Instinctively he seeks to commune with his departed wife, after the manner dear to the Catholic heart, but forbidden to the Protestant. He keeps the anniversary of her death. He composes a prayer for the repose of her soul, beseeching God "to grant her whatever is best in her present state, and finally to receive her to eternal happiness." [1] [Footnote 1: Boswell's Johnson, vol. 1, p. 100. Croker's Ed. There is pathos in this entry, remembering the man: "Mar. 28, 1753. I kept this day as the anniversary of my Tetty's death, with prayer and tears in the morning. In the evening I prayed for her conditionally, if it were lawful." _Ibid._ p. 97.] IV Of the nature and intensity of the sufferings of souls undergoing this purgation, we on earth can form but the faintest conception. Not so Mary. She sees things as they are. She sees the great love animating those I holy souls. She sees their eager desire to be united to God, the sole centre and object of their being. She sees and appreciates the struggle going on in them between that intense desire--that great yearning--that groping after perfect union--that unfilled and unsatiated vagueness arising from their privation of the only fulness that could replenish them, on the one hand, and on the other, the sense of their unfitness, keen, strong, deep, intense, overwhelming them and driving them back to the flames of pain and soul-hunger and soul-thirst until they shall have satisfied God's justice to the last farthing, and even the slightest stain has been cleansed, and they stand forth in the light of God's sanctity, whole and spotless. She sees the terrible struggle; and her motherly heart goes out in tender pity to these her children, washed and ransomed by the Blood of her Divine Son, and she is well disposed to extend to them the aid of her powerful intercession. She is fitly called the Mother of Mercy. Her merciful heart goes out to these, the favored ones of her Son, all the more lovingly and tenderly because they are unable to help themselves. V. But whilst Mary looks upon those souls with an eye of tender mercy and sweet compassion, and whilst Jesus is prepared to admit them to the beatific vision as soon as they become thoroughly purified, still the assuaging of their pains and the abridging of their time of purgation depend in a great measure upon the graces and the merits that are applied to them by us, their brethren upon earth. According to the earnestness of the prayers we say for them, and the measure of the good works we do for them, will the intercession of Mary and all the saints be efficacious with Jesus in their behalf. It is unspeakably consoling to the living and the dead to know that the members of the Church militant upon earth have it within their power to aid and relieve the members of the Church suffering. It is therefore really and indeed a holy and a wholesome thought for us of the one to pray for those of the other. It is more: it is an imperative duty we owe the faithful departed. They are our brethren in Christ, bought at the same price, nurtured by the same graces, living by the same faith, and sanctified by the same spirit. Many of them may have been near and dear to us in this life; and of these, many again may now suffer because of us; whether it was that we led them directly into wrong-doing, or whether it was that, in their loving kindness for us, they connived at, permitted, aided or abetted us, in what their consciences had whispered them not to be right. In each and every case it is our bounden duty to do all in our power to assuage sufferings to which we may have been accessory. In heart-rending accents do they cry out to us: "_Have pity on me, have pity on me, at least ye my friends!_" [1] And as we would have others do by us under like circumstances, so should we not turn a deaf ear to their petition. [Footnote 1: Job, xix. 21.] VI. Daily does the Angel of Death enter our houses, and summon from us those that are rooted in our affections, and for whom our heart-throbs beat in love and esteem. Daily must we bow our heads in reverent silence and submission to the decree that snatches from us some loved one. Perhaps it is a wife who mourns the loss of her husband. She finds comfort and companionship in praying for the repose of his soul; in the words of Tertullian, "she prays for his soul, and begs for him in the interim refreshments, and in the first resurrection companionship, and maketh offerings on the anniversary day of his falling asleep." [1] Perhaps it is a husband whose loving wife has gone to sleep in death. Then will he hold her memory sacred, and offer thereto the incense of unceasing prayer, so that it may be said of him as St. Jerome wrote to Pammachius: "Thou hast rendered what was due to each part; giving tears to the body and alms to the soul.... There were thy tears where thou knewest was death; there were thy works where thou knewest was life.... Already is she honored with thy merits; already is she fed with thy bread, and abounds with thy riches." [2] Perhaps it is a dear friend around whom our heart-strings were entwined, and whose love for us was more than we were worthy of: whose counsels were our guide; whose soul was an open book in which we daily read the lesson of high resolve and sincere purpose; whose virtuous life was a continuous inspiration urging us on to noble thought and noble deed; and yet our friendship may have bound his soul in ties too earthly, and retarded his progress in perfection; in consequence he may still dread the light of God's countenance, and may be lingering in this state of purgation. It behooves us in all earnestness, and in friendship's sacred claim, to pray unceasingly for that friend, beseeching God to let the dews of Divine mercy fall upon his parching soul, assuage his pain, and take him to Himself, to complete his happiness. [Footnote 1: "Dc Monogam," n. x. p 531. "Faith of Catholics," Vol. III., p. 144.] [Footnote 2: Ep. XXXVII] So the sacred duty of prayer for the dead runs through all the relations of life. From all comes the cry begging for our prayers. We cannot in justice ignore it; we cannot be true to ourselves and unmindful of our suffering brethren. Every reminder that we receive is a voice coming from the grave. Now it is the mention of a name that once brought gladness to our hearts; or we come across a letter written by a hand whose grasp used to thrill our souls--that hand now stiffened and cold in death; or it is the sight of some relic that vividly recalls the dear one passed away; or it is a dream--and to whom has not such a dream occurred?--in which we live over again the pleasant past with the bosom friend of our soul, and he is back once more, in the flesh, re-enacting the scenes of former days, breathing and talking as naturally as though there were no break in his life or ours and we had never parted. When we awaken from our dream, and the pang of reality, like a keen blade, penetrates our hearts, let us not rest content with a vain sigh of regret, or with useless tears of grief; let us pray God to give the dear departed soul eternal rest, and admit it to the perpetual light of His Presence. And in like manner should we regard all other reminders as so many appeals to the charity of our prayers. In this way will the keeping of the memory of those gone before us be to them a blessing and to us a consolation. VII. Furthermore, every prayer we say, every sacrifice we make, every alms we give for the repose of the dear departed ones, will all return upon ourselves in hundredfold blessings. They are God's choice friends, dear to His Sacred Heart, living in His grace and in constant communing with Him; and though they may not alleviate their own sufferings, their prayers in our behalf always avail. They can aid us most efficaciously. God will not turn a deaf ear to their intercession. Being holy souls, they are grateful souls. The friends that aid them, they in turn will also aid. We need not fear praying for them in all faith and confidence. They will obtain for us the special favors we desire. They will watch over us lovingly and tenderly; they will guard our steps; they will warn us against evil; they will shield us in moments of trial and danger; and when our day of purgatorial suffering comes, they will use their influence in our behalf to assuage our pains and shorten the period of our separation from the Godhead. And so may we, in constant prayer, begging in a special manner the intercession of Mary the Mother of Mercy, say to our Lord and Saviour: "_Deliver them from gloom and darkness, and snatch them from sorrow and grief; enter not into judgment with them, nor severely examine their past life; but whether in word or deed they have sinned, as men clothed with flesh, forgive and do away with their transgressions." [1] [Footnote 1: From prayer for the Faithful Departed in the Syriac Liturgy. See "Faith of Catholics," Vol. III, p. 203] DR. JOHNSON ON PRAYERS FOR THE DEAD. BOSWELL. What do you, think, sir, of Purgatory, as believed by the Roman Catholics? JOHNSON. Why, sir, it is a very harmless doctrine. They are of opinion that the generality of mankind are neither so obstinately wicked as to deserve everlasting punishment, nor so good as to merit being admitted into the society of blessed spirits; and therefore that God is graciously pleased to allow of a middle state, where they may be purified by certain degrees of suffering. You see, sir, that there is nothing unreasonable in this. BOSWELL. But then, sir, their Masses for the dead? JOHNSON. Why, sir, if it be once established that there are souls in Purgatory, it is as proper to pray for them as for our brethren of mankind who are yet in this life. BOSWELL. The idolatry of the Mass? JOHNSON. Sir, there is no idolatry in the Mass. They believe God to be there, and they adore Him. * * * * * BOSWELL. We see in Scripture that Dives still retained an anxious concern about his brethren? JOHNSON. Why, sir, we must either suppose that passage to be metaphorical, or hold with many divines, and all purgatorians, that departed souls do not all at once arrive at the utmost perfection of which they are capable. * * * * * BOSWELL. Do you think, sir, it is wrong in a man who holds the doctrine of Purgatory to pray for the souls of his deceased friends? JOHNSON. Why, no, sir. * * * * * He states, that he spent March 22, 1753, in prayers and tears in the morning; and in the evening prayed for the soul of his deceased wife, "conditionally, if it be lawful." The following is his customary prayer for his dead wife: "And, O Lord, so far as it may be lawful in me, I commend to Thy fatherly goodness the soul of my departed wife; beseeching Thee to grant her whatever is best in her present state, and finally to receive her into eternal happiness."--_Boswell's "Life of Johnson,"_ Pages 169, 188. THE DOCTRINE OF PURGATORY. BURNETT [1] [Footnote 1: From his work, "The Path which Led a Protestant Lawyer to the Catholic Church," p. 637.] The Council of Trent declared, as the faith of the Catholic Church, "_that there is a Purgatory, and that the souls there detained are helped by the suffrages of the faithful, but principally by the acceptable sacrifice of the altar._" This is all that is required to be believed. As to the kind and measure of the purifying punishment, the Church defines nothing. This doctrine has been very much misrepresented, and has most generally been attacked by sarcasm and denunciation. But is this a satisfactory method to treat a grave matter of faith, coming down to us from the olden times? The doctrine of Purgatory is most intimately connected with the doctrine of sacramental absolution and satisfaction, and legitimately springs from it. That there is a distinction in the guilt of different sins, must be conceded. All our criminal laws, and those of all nations, are founded upon this idea. To say that the smallest transgression, the result of inadvertence, is equal in enormity to the greatest and most deliberate crime, is utterly opposed to the plain nature of all law, and to the word of God, which assures us that men shall be punished or rewarded according to their works (Rom. ii. 6), as not to require any refutation. Our Lord assures us that men must give an account in the day of judgment for every idle word they speak (Matt, xii. 36), and St. John tells us that nothing denied shall enter heaven (Rev. xxi. 27). Then St. John says there is a sin unto death, and there is a sin which is not unto death (I John, v. 16), and he also tells us that "all unrighteousness is sin; and there is a sin not unto death." So we are told by the same apostle, that if we confess our sins, God is faithful and just to forgive us (I John, i. 9). Now we must put all these texts together, and give them their full, harmonious, and consistent force. We must carry out the principles laid down to their fair and logical results. Suppose, then, a man speak an idle word, and die suddenly, before he has time to repent and confess his sin, will he be lost everlastingly? Must there not, in the very nature of Christ's system, be a middle state, wherein souls can be purged from their lesser sins? MALLOCK ON PURGATORY. [1] [Footnote 1: William Hurrell Mallock, the author of "Is Life Worth Living," from which this extract is given, and of several other recent works, was, at the time when the above was written, as he says himself in his dedication, "an outsider in philosophy, literature, and theology," and not, as might be supposed, a Catholic. It has been positively asserted, and as positively denied, that he has since entered the Church. But it is certain that he has not done so. Mallock is not a Catholic.--COMPILER'S NOTE.] To those who believe in Purgatory, to pray for the dead is as natural and rational as to pray for the living. Next, as to this doctrine of Purgatory itself--which has so long been a stumbling-block to the whole Protestant world--time goes on, and the view men take of it is changing. It is becoming fast recognized on all sides that it is the only doctrine that can bring a belief in future rewards and punishments into anything like accordance with our notions of what is just or reasonable. So far from its being a superfluous superstition, it is seen to be just what is demanded at once by reason and morality, and a belief in it to be not an intellectual assent, but a partial harmonizing of the whole moral ideal.--_W. H. Mattock, "Is Life Worth Living,"_ Page 297. BOILEAU-DESPRÉAUX AND PRAYER FOR THE DEAD. We love to see the truth of our dogmas proclaimed from amid the great assemblies of choice intelligences. Boileau did not hesitate to do homage to the Catholic doctrine of Purgatory on the following solemn occasion:-- On the death of Furetière, the French Academy deliberated whether they would have a funeral service for him, according to the ancient custom of the establishment. Despréaux, who had taken no part in the expulsion of his former associate, gave expression, when he was no more, to the language of courageous piety. He feared not to express himself in these words: "Gentlemen, there are three things to be considered here--God, the public, and the Academy. As regards God, He will, undoubtedly, be well pleased if you sacrifice your resentment for His sake and offer prayers to Him for the repose of a fellow-member, who has more need of them than others, were it only on account of the animosity he showed towards you. Before the public, it will be a glorious thing for you not to pursue your enemy beyond the grave. And as for the Academy, its moderation will be meritorious, when it answers insults by prayers, and does not deny a Christian the resources offered by the Church for appeasing the anger of God, all the more that, besides the indispensable obligation of praying to God for your enemies, you have made for yourselves a special law to pray for your associates." ALL SAINTS AND ALL SOULS. [1] [Footnote 1: New York _Tablet_, Nov. 12, 1870] MRS. J. SADLIER. OF all the sublime truths which it is the pride and happiness of Christians to believe, none is more beautiful, more consoling than that of the Communion of Saints. Do we fully realize the meaning of that particular article of our faith? From their earliest infancy Christian children repeat, at their mother's knee, "I believe in the Communion of Saints;" but it is only when the mind has attained a certain stage of development that they begin to feel the inestimable privilege of being in the Communion of Saints. But how sad to think that even in later life many of those whose childhood lisped "I believe in the Communion of Saints," neither know, nor care to know, what it means. Outside the Church who believes in the Communion of Saints?--who rejoices in the glory of the glorified, or invokes their intercession with God? Who believes in that state of probation whereby the earth-stains are washed from the souls of men? Who has compassion on "the spirits who are in prison?" To Catholics only is the Communion of Saints a reality, a soul-rejoicing truth. How inestimable is the privilege of being truly and indeed "of the household of faith,"--within and of "the Church of the Saints," the Church that alone connects the life which is and that which is to come, the living and the dead! Year by year we are reminded of this truth, so solemn and so beautiful, the Communion of Saints, by the double festival of All Saints and All Souls--when the Church invites her children of the Militant Church to rejoice with her on the glory of her Saints, and to pray with her for the holy dead who are still in the purgatorial fire that is to prepare them for that blessed abode into which "nothing defiled can enter." Grand and joyous is the feast of the Saints, when we lovingly honor all our brethren who have gained their thrones in Heaven, and with faith and hope invoke their powerful aid, that we, too, may come where they are, and be partakers in their eternal blessedness; solemn and sad, but most sweetly soothing to the heart of faith, is the day of All Souls, when the altars are draped in black, and the chant is mournful, and sacrifice is offered, the whole world over, for the dead who have slept in Christ, with the blessing of the Church upon them. For them, if they still have need of succor, are all the good works of the faithful offered up, and the prayers of all the Saints and all the Angels invoked, not only on the second day of November, but on every day of that mournful month. Thus do we, who are still on earth, honor the glorified Saints of God, and invoke them for ourselves and for the blessed souls who may yet be debarred from the joys of Heaven. And this is truly the Communion of Saints--the Church on earth, the Church in Heaven, the Church in Purgatory, distinct, yet united, the children of one common Father, who is God; of one common Mother, who is Mary, the Virgin ever Blessed. LEIBNITZ [1] [Footnote 1: Gottfried Wilhelm von Leibnitz, the eminent Protestant philosopher. The above is from his "Systema Theologicum."] ON THE MASS AS A PROPITIATORY SACRIFICE. No new efficacy is superadded to the efficacy of the Passion from this propitiatory Sacrifice, repeated for the remission of sins; but its entire efficacy consists in the representation and application of the first bloody Sacrifice, the fruit of which is the Divine Grace bestowed on all those who, being present at this tremendous sacrifice, worthily celebrate the oblation in unison with the priest. And since, in addition to the remission of eternal punishment, and the gift of the merits of Christ for the hope of eternal life, we further ask of God, for ourselves and others, both living and dead, many other salutary gifts (and amongst those, the chief is the mitigation of that paternal chastisement which is due to every sin, even though the penitent be restored to favor); it is therefore clearly manifest that there is nothing in our entire worship more precious than the sacrifice of this Divine Sacrament, in which the Body of Our Lord itself is present. EXTRACTS FROM "A TROUBLED HEART." How often have I been touched at the respect paid the dead in Catholic countries; at the reverence with which the business man, hastening to fulfil the duties of the hour, pauses and lifts his hat as the funeral of the unknown passes him in the street! What pity streams from the eyes of the poor woman who kneels in her humble doorway, and, crossing herself, prays for the repose of the soul that was never known to her in this life; but the body is borne towards the cemetery, and she joins her prayer to the many that are freely offered along the solemn way (pp. 151-2). * * * * * So passes the faithful soul to judgment; after which, if not ushered at once into the ineffable glory of the Father, it pauses for a season in the perpetual twilight of that border-land where the spirit is purged of the very memory of sin. Even as Our Lord Himself descended into Limbo; as He died for us, but rose again from the dead and ascended into heaven, so we hope to rise and follow Him,--sustained by the unceasing prayers of the Church, the intercession of the Saints, and all the choirs of the just, who are called on night and day, and also by the prayers and pleadings of those who have loved us, and who are still in the land of the living. The prayers that ease the pangs of Purgatory, the _Requiem_, the _Miserere_, the _De Profundis_--these are the golden stairs upon which the soul of the redeemed ascends into everlasting joy. Even the Protestant laureate of England has confessed the poetical justice and truth of this, and into the mouth of the dying Arthur--that worthy knight--he puts these words: "Pray for my soul! More things are wrought by prayer Than this world dreams of; wherefore let thy voice Rise like a fountain for me night and day; For, what are men better than sheep or goats That nourish a blind life within the brain, If, knowing God, they lift not hands of prayer Both for themselves and those who call them friend? For so the whole round earth is every way Bound by gold chains about the feet of God." [1] [Footnote 1: These exquisite lines will be found elsewhere in this volume in the full description of King Arthur's death from Tennyson. But they bear repetition.] O ye gentle spirits that have gone before me, and who are now, I trust, dwelling in the gardens of Paradise, beside the river of life that flows through the midst thereof,--ye whose names I name at the Memorial for the Dead in the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass,--as ye look upon the lovely and shining countenances of the elect, and, perchance, upon the beauty of our Heavenly Queen, and upon her Son in glory,--O remember me who am still this side of the Valley of the Shadow, and in the midst of trials and tribulations. And you who have read these pages, written from the heart, after much sorrow and long suffering, though I be still with you in the flesh, or this poor body be gathered to its long home, --you whose eyes are now fixed upon this line, I beseech you, _Pray for me_!--_Anon_. EUGÉNIE DE GUÉRIN AND HER BROTHER MAURICE. [In Eugénie de Guérin's journal we find the following beautiful words written while her loving heart was still bleeding for the early death of her best-loved brother, Maurice--her twin soul, as she was wont to call him.] "O PROFUNDITY! O mysteries of that other life that separates us! I who was always so anxious about him, who wanted so much to know everything, wherever he may be now there is an end to that. I follow him into the three abodes; I stop at that of bliss; I pass on to the place of suffering, the gulf of fire. My God, my God, not so! Let not my brother be there, let him not! He is not there. What! his soul, the soul of Maurice, among the reprobate! ... Horrible dread, no! But in Purgatory, perhaps, where one suffers, where one expiates the weaknesses of the heart, the doubts of the soul, the half-inclinations to evil. Perhaps my brother is there, suffering and calling to us in his pangs as he used to do in bodily pain, 'Relieve me, you who love me!' Yes, my friend, by prayer. I am going to pray. I have prayed so much, and always shall. Prayer? Oh, yes, prayers for the dead, they are the dew of Purgatory." _All Souls'_--How different this day is from all others, in church, in the soul, without, within. It is impossible to tell all one feels, thinks, sees again, regrets. There is no adequate expression for all this except in prayer.... I have not written here, but to some one to whom I have promised so long as I live, a letter on All Souls'.... O my friend, my brother, Maurice! Maurice! art thou far from me? dost thou hear me? What are they, those abodes that hold thee now? ... Mysteries of another life, how profound, how terrible ye are-- sometimes, how sweet! PASSAGES FROM THE VIA MEDIA. [Written while Cardinal Newman was still an Anglican] Now, as to the punishments and satisfactions for sins, the texts to which the minds of the early Christians seem to have been principally drawn, and from which they ventured to argue in behalf of these vague notions, were these two: 'The fire shall try every man's work,' etc., and 'He shall baptize you with the Holy Ghost and with fire.' These passages, with which many more were found to accord, directed their thoughts one way, as making mention of fire, whatever was meant by the word, as the instrument of trial and purification; and that, at some time between the present time and the Judgment, or at the Judgment. As the doctrine, thus suggested by certain striking texts, grew in popularity and definiteness, and verged towards its present Roman form, it seemed a key to many others. Great portions of the books of Psalms, Job, and the Lamentations, which express the feelings of religious men under suffering, would powerfully recommend it by the forcible and most affecting and awful meaning which they received from it. When this was once suggested, all other meanings would seem tame and inadequate. To these may be added various passages from the prophets, as that in the beginning of the third chapter of Malachi, which speaks of fire as the instrument of purification, when Christ comes to visit His Church. Moreover, there were other texts of obscure and indeterminate meaning, which seem on this hypothesis to receive a profitable meaning; such as Our Lord's words in the Sermon on the Mount, "Verily, I say unto thee, thou shalt by no means come out thence till thou hast paid the uttermost farthing;" and St. John's expression in the Apocalypse, that, "no man in heaven, nor in earth, neither under the earth, was able to open the book."--_Via Media, pp._ 174-177. Most men, to our apprehensions, are too little formed in religious habits either for heaven or for hell; yet there is no middle state when Christ comes in judgment. In consequence, it is obvious to have recourse to the interval before His coming, as a time during which this incompleteness may be remedied, as a season, not of changing the spiritual bent and character of the soul departed, whatever that be, for probation ends with mortal life, but of developing it in a more determinate form, whether of good or evil. Again, when the mind once allows itself to speculate, it will discern in such a provision a means whereby those who, not without true faith at bottom, yet have committed great crimes, or those who have been carried off in youth while still undecided, or who die after a barren, though not immoral or scandalous life, may receive such chastisement as may prepare them for heaven, and render it consistent with God's justice to admit them thither. Again, the inequality of the sufferings of Christians in this life compared one with another, leads the mind to the same speculations; the intense suffering, for instance, which some men undergo on their death-bed, seeming as if but an anticipation in their case of what comes after death upon others, who, without greater claims on God's forbearance, live without chastisement and die easily. The mind will inevitably dwell upon such thoughts, unless it has been taught to subdue them by education or by the fear of the experience of their dangerousness.-- _Via Media, pp. 174-177_. ALL SOULS. FROM THE FRENCH. November is come; and the pleasant verdure that the groves and woods offered to our view in the joyous spring is fast losing its cheerful hue, while its withered remains lie trembling and scattered beneath our feet. The grave and plaintive voice of the consecrated bell sends forth its funereal tones, and, recalling the dead to our pensive souls, implores, for them the pity of the living. Oh! let us hearken to its thrilling call; and may the sanctuary gather us together within its darkened walls, there to invoke our Eternal Father, and breathe forth cherished names in earnest prayer! When the solemn hour of the last farewell was come for those we loved, and their weakened sight was extinguished forever, it seemed as if our hearts' memory would be eternal, and as if those dear ones would never be forgotten. But time has fled, their memory has grown dim, and other thoughts reign paramount in our forgetful hearts, which barely give them from time to time a pious recollection. Nevertheless, they loved us, perhaps too well, lavish of a love that Heaven demanded. How devoted was their affection; and shall we now requite it by a cruel forgetfulness? Oh! if they suffer still on our account; if, because of their weakness, they still feel the wrath of God's justice, shall we not pray, when their voices implore our help, when their tears ascend towards us? Alas! in this life what direful contamination clings to the steps of irresolute mortals! Who has not wavered in the darksome paths into which the straight road so often deviates? The infinite justice of the God of purity perhaps retains them in the dungeons of death. Alas! for long and long the Haven of eternal life may be closed against them! Oh, let us pray; our voices will open the abode of celestial peace unto the imprisoned soul. The God of consolation gave us prayer, that love might thus become eternal.-- _The Lamp_, Nov. 5, 1864. AN ANGLICAN BISHOP PRAYING FOR THE DEAD. Foremost among later Anglican divines in piety, in learning, and in the finer qualities of head and heart, stands the name of Reginald Heber, Bishop of the Establishment, whose gentle memory,--embalmed in several graceful and musical poems, chiefly on religious subjects,--is still revered and cherished by his co-religionists, respected and admired even by those who see in him only the man and the poet--not the religious teacher. I am happy to lay before my readers the following extract from a letter of Bishop Heber, in which that amiable and accomplished prelate expresses his belief in the efficacy of prayers for the departed: "Few persons, I believe, have lost a beloved object, more particularly by sudden death, without feeling an earnest desire to recommend them in their prayers to God's mercy, and a sort of instinctive impression that such devotions might still be serviceable to them. * * * * * "Having been led attentively to consider the question, my own opinion is, on the whole, favorable to the practice, which is, indeed, so natural and so comfortable, that this alone is a presumption that it is neither unpleasing to the Almighty nor unavailing with Him. "The Jews, so far back as their opinions and practices can be traced since the time of Our Saviour, have uniformly recommended their deceased friends to mercy; and from a passage in the Second Book of Maccabees, it appears that, from whatever source they derived it, they had the same custom before His time. But if this were the case, the practice can hardly be unlawful, or either Christ or His Apostles would, one should think, have, in some of their writings or discourses, condemned it. On the same side it may be observed that the Greek Church, and all the Eastern Churches, pray for the dead; and that we know the practice to have been universal, or nearly so, among the Christians a little more than one hundred and fifty years after Our Saviour. It is spoken of as the usual custom by Tertullian and Epiphanius. Augustine, in his _Confessions_, has given a beautiful prayer which he himself used for his deceased mother, Monica; and among Protestants, Luther and Dr. Johnson are eminent instances of the same conduct. I have, accordingly, been myself in the habit, for some years, of recommending on some occasions, as, after receiving the sacrament, etc., my lost friends by name to God's goodness and compassion, through His Son, as what can do them no harm, and may, and I hope will, be of service to them." THE "PURGATORY" OF DANTE. MARIOTTI. In the course of his remarks upon the _Divina Comedia_ of Dante, a bitter opponent of the Holy See and of everything Catholic, Mariotti, [1] an apostle of United Italy, expresses his views upon the ancient doctrine of Purgatory. These views are but an instance of how its beauty and truthfulness to nature strike the minds of those who have strayed from the centre of Christian unity. [Footnote 1: Mariotti, author of "Italy Past and Present," an unscrupulous opponent of the Papacy and of the Church.] "To say nothing of its greatness and goodness, the poem of Dante," says Mariotti, "is the most curious of books. The register of the past, noting down every incident within the compass of man's nature.... Dante is the annalist, the interpreter, the representative of the Middle Ages.... The ideas of mankind were in those '_dark_' ages perpetually revolving upon that 'life beyond life,' which the omnipresent religion of that _fanatical_ age loved to people with appalling phantoms and harrowing terrors. Dante determined to anticipate his final doom, and still, in the flesh, to break through the threshold of eternity, and explore the kingdom of death.... No poet ever struck upon a subject to which every fibre in the heart of his contemporaries more readily responded than Dante. It is not for me to test the soundness of the Roman Catholic doctrine of Purgatory, or to inquire which of the Holy Fathers first dreamt of its existence. It was, however, a sublime contrivance, unscriptural though it may be--a conception full of love and charity, in so far as it seemed to arrest the dead on the threshold of eternity; and making his final welfare partly dependent on the pious exertions of those who were left behind, established a lasting interchange of tender feelings, embalmed the memory of the departed, and by a posthumous tie wedded him to the mourning survivor.... Woe to the man, in Dante's age, who sunk into his grave without bequeathing a heritage of love; on whose sod no refreshing dew of sorrowing affection descended. Lonely as his relics in the sepulchre, his spirit wandered in the dreaded region of probation; alone he was left defenceless, prayerless, friendless to settle his awful score with unmitigated justice. It is this feeling, unrivalled for poetic beauty, that gives color and tone to the second division of Dante's poem. The five or six cantos, at the opening, have all the milk of human nature that entered into the composition of that miscalled saturnine mind. With little more than two words, the poet makes us aware that we have come into happier latitudes. Every strange visitor breathes love and forgiveness. The shade we meet is only charged with tidings of joy to the living, and messages of good will. The heart lightens and brightens at every new stratum of the atmosphere in that rising region; the ascent is easy and light, like the gliding of a boat down the stream. The angels we become familiar with are angels of light, such as human imagination never before nor afterwards conceived. They come from afar across the waves, piloting the barge that conveys the chosen spirits to heaven, balancing themselves on their wide-spread wings, using them as sails, disdaining the aid of all mortal contrivance, and relying on their inexhaustible strength; red and rayless at first, from the distance, as the planet Mars when he appears struggling through the mist of the horizon, but growing brighter and brighter with amazing swiftness. They stand at the gate of Purgatory, they guard the entrance to each of the seven steps of its mountain--some with green vesture, vivid as new-budding leaves, gracefully waving and floating in simple drapery, fanned by their wings; bearing in their hands flaming swords broken at the point; others, ash-colored garments; others again, in flashing armor, but all beaming with so intense, so overwhelming a light, that dizziness overcomes all mortal ken, whenever directed to their countenance. The friends of the poet's youth one by one arrest his march, and engage him in tender converse. The very laws of immutable fate seem for a few moments suspended to allow full scope for the interchange of affectionate sentiments. The overawing consciousness of the place he is in, for a moment forsakes the mortal visitor so miraculously admitted into the world of spirits. He throws his arms round the neck of the beloved shade, and it is only by the smile irradiating its countenance that he is reminded of the intangibility of its ethereal substance. The episodes of "the Purgatory" are mostly of this sad and tender description. The historical personages introduced seem to have lost their own identity, and to have merged into a blessed calmness, characterizing medium of the region they are all travelling through." It is plain that, bitterly hostile as is this faithless Italian to the Church of his fathers, and the truth which it teaches, his poetic instinct, at least, rises above mere prejudice, and enables him to penetrate into that dim but holy atmosphere created by the poet's genius, and yet more fully by the poet's faith. This homage to the union of religious grandeur, natural tenderness, and supernatural fervent charity, which make this doctrine unconsciously dear to every human heart, is of value coming from the pen of so prejudiced a witness. It is but one of countless testimonies that in all times, and in all ages, have sprung from the heart of man, as it were in his own despite. THE MOUTH OF NOVEMBER. [1] [Footnote 1: New York _Tablet_, Nov. 26, 1859.] MARY E. BLAKE (MARIE). It is but a few days since the Church has celebrated the triumph of her saints, rejoicing in the eternal felicity of that innumerable throng whom she has given to the celestial Sion. She invites us to share her joy. She bids us look up from the rugged pathway of our thorn-strewn pilgrimage to that blissful abode which is to be the term and the reward of all our trials. Yet, like a true mother, she cannot forget that portion of her family who are sighing for their deliverance, in that region of pain to which they are consigned by eternal justice. On one day she sings with radiant brow and tones of jubilee her _Sursum Corda_; on the next, she kneels a suppliant, chanting with uplifted hands and tearful eyes her _Requiem Æternam_; and we, the companions of her exile, shall we not sympathize with every emotion of the heart of our tender Mother? Among the pious customs which owe their existence to the fertile spirit of Catholic devotion is that which dedicates the month of November to the Suffering Souls in Purgatory. It would seem as though the annual circle of commemorative devotion were incomplete without this crowning fulfilment of charity. Some years since, I met with a graphic description of a spectacle in the Catholic Cemetery of New Orleans. It was the 2d of November, when the friends and relatives of the dead came to scatter emblematic wreaths and sweet-scented flowers on their graves. This custom was observed by the French Catholics and their descendants; and the writer, although a Protestant, was deeply impressed with its beauty and significance. He asked why, among Americans, there was so little of this eloquent affection for the dead. He might have found an answer in the fact that the principle of faith was wanting--of that vivid and active faith which seeks and finds by such means its outward manifestation. We, also, are the children of the Saints. We have inherited from them the same faith in all its integrity, and how does our _practice_ correspond with it? What are we doing for that army of holy captives who cannot leave their prison till the uttermost farthing be paid? Let us not imitate those tepid Christians who are satisfied with erecting costly monuments, and observing, with scrupulous exactness, the usual period of "mourning," while the poor souls are left to pine forgotten, if they have gone with some-lingering stains--some earthly tarnish on their nuptial garment. Ah! there is so much that might be done if we would only reflect, and let our hearts be softened by the intense eloquence of their mute appeal.... These are a few of the thoughts suggested by the late solemnity, and perhaps they cannot be concluded more appropriately than by introducing the following poem, found in an old magazine. If the theme be sufficient to inspire thus one who had but faint glimmerings of divine truth, what should be expected of us, who rejoice in the fullness of that light? I twine, then, this flower of the desert with the leaves I have gathered, and offer my humble wreath as a tribute of faith and affection on the altar dedicated to the dear departed. _November_, 1859. LITANY OP THE DEPARTED. It is, therefore, a holy and wholesome thought to pray for the dead.-- II. Mach. xii. 26. For the spirits who have fled From the earth which once they trod; For the loved and faithful dead, We beseech the living God! Oh! receive and love them! By the grave where Thou wert lying, By the anguish of Thy dying, Spread Thy wings above them; Grant Thy pardon unto them, _Dona eis requiem!_ Long they suffered here below, Outward fightings, inward fears; Ate the cheerless bread of woe,-- Drank the bitter wine of tears:-- Now receive and love them! By Thy holy Saints' departures, By the witness of Thy martyrs, Spread Thy wings above them. On the souls in gloom who sit, _Lux eterna luceat_! Lord, remember that they wept, When Thy children would divide; Lord, remember that they slept On the bosom of Thy Bride; And receive and love them! By the tears Thou couldst not smother; By the love of Thy dear Mother, Spread Thy wings above them. To their souls, in bliss with Thee, _Dona pacem, Domini_! Grant our prayers, and bid them pray, O thou Flower of Jesse's stem; Lend a gracious ear when they, Plead for us, as we for them. _Deus Angelorum_, _Dona eis requiem_, _Et beatitudinem_. _Cordibus eorum_ _Jesu, qui salutam das_ _Micat lumen animas_! --_Acolytus_. ALL SOULS' DAY [1] [Footnote 1: New York _Tablet_, Nov. 12, 1864.] MRS. J. SADLIER. Nothing in the whole grand scheme of Religion is more beautiful than the tender care of the Church over her departed children. Not content with providing for their spiritual wants during their lives, and sending them into eternity armed with and strengthened by the last solemn Sacraments, blessing their departure from, as she blessed their entrance into, this world, her maternal solicitude follows them beyond the grave, and penetrates to the dreary prison in the Middle State where, happily, they may be, as the Apostle says, "cleansed so as by fire." With the tender compassion of a fond mother, the Church, _our_ mother, yearns over the sufferings of her children, all the dearer to her because they suffer in the Lord, and by His holy will. By every means within her power she aids these blessed souls who are at once so near Heaven, and so far from it; by solemn prayers, by sacrifice, by continual remembrance of them in all her good works, she gives them help and comfort herself, while encouraging the faithful to imitate her example in that respect by numerous and great Indulgences, and by the crown of eternal blessedness she holds out to those who perform faithfully and in her own proper spirit this Seventh Spiritual Work of Mercy--"to pray for the living _and the dead_." In every Mass that is said the long year round on each of her myriad altars, a solemn commemoration is made for the Dead immediately after the Elevation of the Sacred Host, the great Atoning Sacrifice of the New Law; in all the other public offices of the Church, "the faithful departed" are tenderly remembered, and, to crown the efforts of her maternal charity, the second day of November of every year is set apart for the solemn remembrance of these her most beloved and most afflicted children, for whose benefit and relief all the Masses of that day throughout the whole Catholic world are specially offered up. Nay, more than that, the entire month of November is devoted to the Souls in Purgatory, and the good works and pious prayers of all the holy communities who spend their lives in commune with God are offered up with that benign intention during the month. In Catholic countries, the faithful are touchingly reminded of this sad though pleasing duty to their departed brethren, by the tolling of the several convent and church bells at eight o'clock in the evening, at which time the different communities unite in reciting the solemn _De Profundis_, and other prayers for the dead. Solemn and sonorous we have heard that passing-bell, year after year, booming through the darkness and storm of the November night in a northern land [1] where the pious customs of the best ages of France, transplanted over two centuries ago, flourish still in their pristine beauty and touching fervor. [Footnote 1: Eastern, or French Canada, now known as the Province of Quebec] But, though all Catholics may not hear the _De Profundis_ bell of November nights, nor all households kneel at evening hour to join in spirit with the pious communities who are praying then for the faithful departed, yet all Catholics know when, on the first of November, they celebrate the great and joyous festival of All Saints, that the next day will bring the mournful solemnity of All Souls, when the altars of the Church will be draped with black, and her ministers robed in the same sombre garb, whilst offering the "Clean Oblation" of the New Law for the souls who are yet in a state of purgation in the other life. To the deep heart of Catholic piety nothing can be more sensibly touching than "the black Mass" of All Souls' Day. If the feast be not celebrated by the laity as it so faithfully is by the Church, it certainly ought to be, if the spirit of the faith be still amongst them. The funereal solemnity of the occasion touches the deepest, holiest sympathies in every true Catholic heart, reminding each of their loved and lost, and filling their souls with the soothing hope that the Great Sacrifice then offered up for all the departed children of the Church may release one or more of their nearest and dearest from the cleansing fires of Purgatory. Then, while the funeral dirge fills the sacred edifice, and the mournful _Dies Iræ_ thrills the hearts of all, each one thinks of his own departed ones, and recalls with indescribable sadness other just such celebrations in the years long past, when those for whom they now invoke the mercy of Heaven were still amongst the living. Then comes, too, the solemn thought that some, perhaps many, of those then present in life and health may be numbered with the dead before All Souls' Day comes round again, and a voice from the depths of the Christian heart asks, "May not I, too, be then with the dead?" When noting with surprise and regret how many Catholics neglect the celebration of All Souls' Day, we have often endeavored to account for such strange apathy. Surely, if the charity of the Church do not inspire them--if they do not feel, with the valiant Macchabeus of old, that "it is a holy and a wholesome thought to pray for the Dead that they may be loosed from their sins"--if natural affection, even, do not move them to think of the probable sufferings of their own near and dear--sufferings which they may have it in their power to alleviate--at least, a motive of self-interest ought to make them reflect that when they themselves are with the dead, retributive justice may leave them forgotten by their own flesh and blood, as they forget others now. But to those who do faithfully unite with the Church in her solemn commemoration of the faithful departed on All Souls' Day, nothing can be more soothing to the deep heart of human sadness, as nothing is more imposing, or more strikingly illustrative of that Catholic charity, that all-embracing charity which has its life and fountain within the Church. CEMETERIES. THE respect due to cemeteries is too closely connected with the doctrine of Purgatory for us to omit observing here that those asylums of the dead, being the objects of pious reverence, even amongst infidels, ought to be still more so amongst us. It was in this connection that Mgr. Pelletan, Arch-priest of the Cathedral of Algiers, wrote thus on the 13th of March, 1843: "Here in Algiers, do we not see, every Friday, the Mussulman Arab, wandering pensively through his cemetery, placing on some venerated and beloved grave bouquets of flowers, branches of boxwood; wrapped in his bornouse, he sits for hours beside it, motionless and thoughtful; lost in gentle melancholy, it would seem as though he were holding intimate and mysterious converse with the dear departed one whose loss he deplores.... "But for us, Christians, nourished, enlightened by the truth of God, what special homage, what profound reverence we should manifest towards the remains of our fathers, our brethren who died in the same faith! Oh, let us remember the first faithful--the martyrs--the catacombs! The cemetery is for us the land where grows invisibly the harvest of the elect; it is the sleeping world of intelligence; sheltered are its peaceful slumbers in the bosom of nature ever young, ever fruitful; the crowd of the dead pressed together beneath those crosses, under those scattered flowers, is the crowd that will one day rise to take possession of the infinite future, from which it is only separated by some sods of turf. "Hence how lively, how motherly has ever been the solicitude of the Church in this respect! She wishes that the ground wherein repose the remains of her children be blessed and consecrated ground; she purifies it with hyssop and holy water; she calls down upon it by her humble supplications, the benediction of Him who disposes according to His will of things visible and invisible, of souls and of bodies; she wishes that the cross should rise in its midst, that her children may rest in peace in its shade while awaiting the grand awaking; even as a temple and a sanctuary, she banishes from it games, noise of all kinds, and even all that savors of levity or irreverence."--_Dictionnaire d'Anecdotes Chrétiens, p_. 993. OPINIONS OF VARIOUS PROTESTANTS. Some say, like Lessing in his "Treatise on Theology," "What hinders us from admitting a Purgatory? as if the great majority of Christians had not really adopted it. No, this intermediate state being taught and recognized by the ancient Church, notwithstanding the scandalous abuses to which it gave rise, should not be absolutely rejected." Others, with Dr. Forbes (_controv. pontif. princip., anno_ 1658): "Prayer for the dead, MADE USE OF FROM THE TIMES OF THE APOSTLES, cannot be rejected as useless by Protestants. They should respect the judgment of the primitive Church, and adopt a practice sanctioned by the continuous belief of so many ages. We repeat that prayer for the dead is a salutary practice." Several others, rising to our point of view, drawing their inspiration from the sources of Catholic charity, tell you, with the theologian Collier (Part II. p. 100): "Prayer for the dead revives the belief in the immortality of the soul, withdraws the dark veil which covers the tomb, and establishes relations between this world and the other. Had it been preserved, we should probably not have had amongst us so much incredulity. I cannot conceive why our Church, which is so remote from the primitive times of Christianity, should have abandoned or disdained a custom that had never been interrupted; which, on the contrary, as we have reason to believe from Scripture, existed in ancient times; which was practiced in the Apostolic age, in the time of miracles and revelations; introduced amongst the articles of faith, and never rejected, except by Arius." "It was evidently in use in the Church in the time of St. Augustine, and down to the sixteenth century. If we do nothing for our dead, if we omit to occupy ourselves with them and pray for them, as was formerly done in the Holy Supper, we break off all intercourse with the Saints; and then, how could we dare to say that we remain in communion with the blessed? And if we break off in this way from the most noble part of the universal Church, may it not be said that we mutilate our belief and reject one of the articles of the Christian faith?" "Yes," says the German Sheldon, in his turn, "prayer for the dead is one of the most ancient and most efficacious practices of the Christian religion." You have just heard the sound of some bells; listen again and you shall hear something different. You think, then, that there are Protestants who admit Purgatory and others who deny it? You are mistaken! There are some who at once admit and do not admit it. This is difficult to comprehend, but it is so, nevertheless, and this is how they take it: On the one side, they will have nothing but hell, pure and simple; this is the Catholic side; but on the other is the philosophic side, the eternity of horrible pains is something too hard; and then, why not a hell that will end a little sooner, or a little later? For, in fine, there are small criminals and great criminals. So that their temporary hell--that is to say, having an end--being, after all, nothing more than one Purgatory, it follows that, having broken with us because they did not want Purgatory, they broke off again because they wanted Purgatory only.--_Dictionnaire d'Anecdotes_, 998-9. Mr. Thorndike, a Protestant theologian, says: "The practice of the Church of interceding for the dead at the celebration of the Eucharist, is so general and so ancient, that it cannot be thought to have come in upon imposture, but that the same aspersion will seem to take hold of the common Christianity." The Protestant translators of Du Pin observe, that St. Chrysostom, in his thirty-eighth homily on the Philippians, says, that to pray for the faithful departed in the tremendous mysteries, was decreed by the Apostles. The learned Protestant divine, Dr. Jeremy Taylor, writes thus: "We find by the history of the Machabees, that the Jews did pray and make offerings for the dead, which appears by other testimonies, and by their form of prayer still extant, which they used in the captivity. Now, it is very considerable, that since our Blessed Saviour did reprove all the evil doctrines and traditions of the Scribes and Pharisees, and did argue concerning the dead and the resurrection, yet He spake no word against this public practice, but left it as He found it; which He who came to declare to us all the will of His Father would not have done, if it had not been innocent, pious, and full of charity. The practice of it was at first, and was universal: it being plain both in Tertullian and St. Cyprian, and others." "Clement," says Bishop Kaye, "distinguishes between sins committed before and after baptism: the former are remitted at baptism, the latter are purged by discipline.... The necessity of this purifying discipline is such, that if it does not take place in this life, it must after death, and is then to be effected by fire, not by a destructive, but a discriminating fire, pervading the soul which passes through it."--_Clem_., ch. xii. SOME THOUGHTS FOR NOVEMBER. I stood upon an unknown shore, A deep, dark ocean, rolled beside; Dear, loving ones were wafted o'er That silent and mysterious tide. To most persons, the idea of Purgatory is simply one of pain; they try to avoid thinking about it, because the subject is unpleasant, and people's thoughts do not naturally revert to painful subjects; they feel that it is a place to which they must go at least, if they escape worse; they must suffer, they cannot help it, and so the less they think about it beforehand, the better. Purgatory and suffering are to them synonymous terms; perhaps fear keeps them from some sins which, without this salutary apprehension, they would readily fall into; but, on the whole, they take their chance, and hope for the best. This, perhaps, is the view of a large class of people, and of those who will scarcely own to themselves what they think on the subject; but their lives are the tell-tales, and we cannot but fear that to escape hell is the utmost effort of many who apparently are good Catholics. Still, we would not say that they do not love God, that they are not in many ways pleasing to Him; but, oh! how many there are who only want a little more generosity to become Saints! Then, there is another class, further on in their heavenward journey--souls who do love God, who do seek only to please Him, who are generous, often even noble-hearted, in their Master's service; souls who can say, "Our Father," and look up with child-like love to Heaven; but even with such, and perhaps with almost all, the feeling about Purgatory is much the same; it is a sort of necessary evil; a something that must be endured. They feel strongly all that justice demands; their very sanctity and goodness lead them to desire that that which is evil in them should be taken out, even by fire; but still there are few that do really see the deep, deep love of Purgatory. We are very far from wishing to hinder people from thinking less of its sufferings--nay, rather their very intenseness and severity only pleads our case more strongly. All that has been revealed to the Saints, all that has been made known to us by the Church or tradition, proclaims the same fact. Suffering, intense, unearthly anguish, is the portion of those most blessed souls; and it has been said that the pains of Purgatory only differ in duration from those of hell. Still, there is this difference--oh! blessed be God, there is this difference, and it is all we could ask: in hell, the damned blaspheme their Master with the demons that torment them; in Purgatory, the holy souls love their God with the angelic choirs who await their entrance to the land of bliss. If the souls of the damned could love, hell would cease to be hell; if the souls of the blessed ones in prison could cease to love, Purgatory would be worse to them than a thousand such hells. * * * * * Yes; Purgatory is love, and if it be true that the love of God extends even to hell, because its torments might be worse, did not His infinite mercy temper His infinite justice, how much more truly may this be said of Purgatory! We have no wish to enter into any detailed account of what the pains of Purgatory are supposed to be; this is a subject for the pen of the theologian, or the raptures of the Saint. Awful and terrible we know they are. But there is one suffering which we wish to speak of, because we cannot but hope, if people reflected upon it seriously, that they would learn to think of Purgatory less as a necessary evil, and more as a most tender mercy, and be more inclined to enter into a hearty co-operation with those who are anxious to help the poor souls in this awful prison. Surely, the one object of our whole lives is, not so much to get to Heaven because we shall be happy there, as to see Jesus forever and forever, to be near Him, to gaze on Him, and to love Him without fear; for then love will be fearless, because suffering and sin will have ceased. And what will happen when we die? Oh! if we were sent to Purgatory without seeing Jesus, we might bear it better. There have been souls on earth privileged to suffer for months the pains of the holy souls, and they have lived and borne the pain, and longed, if it were possible, even for more; but they had not seen Jesus as we shall see Him at the moment of our death. The very thought makes us shudder and our life- blood run cold. What if we should indeed be saved, we who have so trembled and feared, and known not whether we were worthy of love or hatred? What if we should behold the face of Divinest Majesty gaze upon us even for one moment in tenderness? And yet, unless we see it in unutterable wrath, this will be. But what then? Shall we see it forever? Shall our eyes gaze on and on, and feast themselves on that sight for all eternity? ... Ah! not yet; we must lose sight of that vision of delight; it must be withdrawn from us--not, thank God, in anger, but in sorrow. Oh! what are the pains of Purgatory, what the burning of its fire, in comparison with the suffering which the soul endures when separated, even for a moment, from her God? Who can tell, who can understand, who can even faintly guess, what will be the anguish of longing which shall consume our very being? But why must this be? Why does love, infinite, tender love, inflict such intense pain? Why does the parent turn away from his child, and forbid him his presence for a time? Is it that he loves him less than when he lavished on him the tenderest caresses? ... Why, but because suffering is needed as an atonement to justice, because love cannot be perfected without fear. "It is here tried and purified, but hath in Heaven its perfect rest." Oh! the love of Purgatory! we shall never know it, or understand it, until we are there. Yes, we cannot but think that the greatest, the keenest suffering of the soul will be the remembrance of that which it has seen for a passing moment, and the pining to behold again and forever the face of God. It has been revealed to Saints that so intense is this desire, that the soul would gladly place itself even in the most fearful tortures, could it thus become more quickly purged from that which withholds it from the presence of God. Did we but well consider, and enter into this feeling, we should be much more careful about our imperfections and our venial sins. * * * * * The Saints have ever desired suffering, and consider it as the greatest favor which could be bestowed upon them; not that it is in itself desirable, but because it perfects love. Let us, then, we who are not Saints, think of Purgatory with more affection; let us rejoice that, if we are not privileged to have keen, unearthly anguish in this life, we shall yet suffer, and suffer intensely, in the next. Our love will be purified; our dross be purged away; the weary pain which we feel continually when we think how vile we are in the sight of God, how the eye of Jesus, with all its tenderness, must often turn from us in sorrow--the weary pain, the deep degradation of misery and sin, will one day cease; we shall not tremble under our Father's eye, or long to hide ourselves from our Father's countenance. Now we must often feel, when trying with our whole hearts to please God, how impure, how sullied we are before Him. Our pride, our vanity, our impatience, our self-love, are all there. God sees them; how can He, then, look on us as we desire He should? And often we almost long to be in those purging flames, even should it be for years and years, that this vileness might be burned away. PART V. LEGENDARY AND POETICAL. Well beseems That we should help them wash away the stains They carried hence; that so, made pure and light, They may spring upward to the starry spheres. Ah! so may mercy tempered justice rid Your burdens speedily; that ye have power To stretch your wing, which e'en to your desire Shall lift you. --DANTE. LEGENDARY AND POETICAL. DIES IRÆ. The day of wrath, that dreadful day Shall the whole world in ashes lay, As David and Sybils say. What horror will invade the mind, When the strict Judge, who would be kind, Shall have few venial faults to find! The last loud trumpet's wondrous sound Must thro' the rending tombs rebound, And wake the nations underground. Nature and death shall with surprise Behold the pale offender rise, And view the Judge with conscious eyes. Then shall with universal dread, The sacred mystic book be read, To try the living and the dead. The Judge ascends His awful throne, He makes each secret sin be known, And all with shame confess their own. O then! what int'rest shall I make, To save my last important stake, When the most just have cause to quake! Thou mighty formidable King! Thou mercy's unexhausted spring! Some comfortable pity bring. Forget not what my ransom cost, Nor let my dear-bought soul be lost, In storms of guilty terror tost. Thou, who for me didst feel such pain, Whose precious blood the cross did stain, Let not those agonies be vain. Thou whom avenging powers obey, Cancel my debt (too great to pay) Before the said accounting day. Surrounded with amazing fears, Whose load my soul with anguish hears, I sigh, I weep, accept my tears. Thou, who wast mov'd with Mary's grief, And by absolving of the thief, Hast given me hope, now give relief. Reject not my unworthy prayer, Preserve me from the dangerous snare, Which death and gaping hell prepare. Give my exalted soul a place Among the chosen right hand race, The sons of God, and heirs of grace. From that insatiate abyss, Where flames devour and serpents hiss, Promote me to Thy seat of bliss. Prostrate, my contrite heart I rend, My God, my Father, and my Friend: Do not forsake me in my end. Well may they curse their second birth, Who rise to a surviving death. Thou great Creator of mankind, Let guilty man compassion find.--_Amen_. AUTHORSHIP OF THE DIES IRÆ. O'BRIEN. [1] [Footnote 1: Rev. John O'Brien, A.M., Prof. of Sacred Liturgy in Mount St. Mary's College, Emmettsburg, Md.] The authorship of the "Dies Iræ" seems the most difficult to settle. This much, however, is certain: that he who has the strongest claims to it is Latino Orsini, generally styled _Frangipani_, whom his maternal uncle, Pope Nicholas III. (Gætano Orsini), raised to the cardinalate in 1278. He was more generally known by the name of Cardinal Malabranca, and was, at first, a member of the Order of St. Dominic. (See _Dublin Review_, Vol. XX., 1846; Gavantus, Thesaur. Sacr. Rit., p. 490.) As this sacred hymn is conceded to be one of the grandest that has ever been written, it is but natural to expect that the number of authors claiming it would be very large. Some even have attributed it to Pope Gregory the Great, who lived as far back as the year 604. St. Bernard, too, is mentioned in connection with it, and so are several others; but as it is hardly necessary to mention all, we shall only say that, after Cardinal Orsini, the claims to it on the part of Thomas de Celano, of the Order of Franciscans Minor, are the greatest. There is very little reason for attributing it to Father Humbert, the fifth general of the Dominicans in 1273; and hardly any at all for accrediting it to Augustinus de Biella, of the Order of Augustinian Eremites. A very widely circulated opinion is that the "Dies Iræ," as it now stands, is but an improved form of a Sequence which was long in use before the age of any of those authors whom we have cited. Gavantus gives us, at page 490 of his "Thesaurus of Sacred Rites," a few stanzas of this ancient sequence. [1] [Footnote 1: We subjoin this Latin stanza: Cum recordor moriturus, Quid post mortem sum futurus Terror terret me venturus, Queru expecto non securus.] * * * * * To repeat what learned critics of every denomination under heaven have said in praise of this marvellous hymn, would indeed be a difficult task. One of its greatest encomiums is, that there is hardly a language in Europe into which it has not been translated; it has even found its way into Greek and Hebrew--into the former, through an English missionary of Syria, named Hildner; and into the latter, by Splieth, a celebrated Orientalist. Mozart avowed his extreme admiration of it, and so did Dr. Johnson, Sir Walter Scott, and Jeremy Taylor, besides hosts of others. The encomium passed upon it by Schaff is thus given in his own words: "This marvellous hymn is the acknowledged master-piece of Latin poetry and the most sublime of all uninspired hymns. The secret of its irresistible power lies in the awful grandeur of the theme, the intense earnestness and pathos of the poet, the simple majesty and solemn music of its language, the stately metre, the triple rhyme, and the vocal assonances, chosen in striking adaptation--all combining to produce an overwhelming effect, as if we heard the final crash of the universe, the commotion of the opening graves, the trumpet of the archangel summoning the quick and the dead, and saw the King 'of tremendous majesty' seated on the throne of justice and mercy, and ready to dispense everlasting life, or everlasting woe." (See "Latin Hymns," Vol. I. p. 392, by Prof. March, of Lafayette College, Pa.) The music of this hymn formed a chief part in the fame of Mozart; and it is said, and not without reason, that it contributed in no small degree to hasten his death, for so excited did he become over its awe- enkindling sentiments while writing his celebrated "Mass of Requiem," that a sort of minor paralysis seized his whole frame, so Terret dies me terroris, Dies irae, ac furoris, Dies luctus, ac moeroris, Dies ultrix peccatoris, Dies irae, dies illa, etc, etc. that he was heard to say: "I am certain that I am writing this Requiem for myself. It will be my funeral service." He never lived to finish it; the credit of having done so belongs to Sussmayer, a man of great musical attainments, and a most intimate friend of the Mozart family.-- _Dublin Review_, Vol. I., May, 1836. The allusion to the sibyl in the third line of the first stanza, "Teste David cum Sybilla," [1] has given rise to a good deal of anxious inquiry; and so very strange did it sound to French ears at its introduction into the sacred hymnology of the Church, that the Parisian rituals substituted in its place the line, _Crucis expandens vexilla_. The difficulty is, however, easily overcome if we bear in mind that many of the early Fathers held that Almighty God made use of these sibyls to promulgate His truths in just the same way as He did of Balaam of old, and many others like him. The great St. Augustine has written much on this subject in his "City of God;" and the reader may form some idea of the estimation in which these sibyls were held, when he is told that the world-renowned Michael Angelo made them the subject of one of his greatest paintings.... In the opinions of the ablest critics it was the Erythrean sibyl who uttered the celebrated prediction about the advent of our Divine Lord and His final coming at the last day to judge the living and the dead.... The part of the sibyl's response which referred particularly to the Day of Judgment was written (as an acrostic) on the letters of Soter, or Saviour. It is given as follows in the translation of the "City of God" of St. Augustine: [Footnote 1: As David and Sibyls say.] "Sounding, the archangel's trumpet shall peal down from heaven, Over the wicked who groan in their guilt and their manifold sorrows, Trembling, the earth shall be opened, revealing chaos and hell. Every king before God shall stand on that day to be judged; Rivers of fire and of brimstone shall fall from the heavens." DANTE'S "PURGATORIO." The bright sun was risen More than two hours aloft; and to the sea My looks were turned. "Fear not," my master cried. "Assured we are at happy point. Thy strength Shrink not, but rise dilated. Thou art come To Purgatory now. Lo! there the cliff That circling bounds it. Lo! the entrance there, Where it doth seem disparted."... Reader! thou markest how my theme doth rise; Nor wonder, therefore, if more artfully I prop the structure. Nearer now we drew, Arrived whence, in that part where first a breach As of a wall appeared. I could descry A portal, and three steps beneath, that led For inlet there, of different color each; And one who watched, but spake not yet a word, As more and more mine eye did stretch its view, I marked him seated on the highest step, In visage such as past my power to bear. Grasped in his hand, a naked sword glanced back The rays so towards me, that I oft in vain My sight directed. "Speak from whence ye stand," He cried; "What would ye? Where is your escort? Take heed your coming upward harm ye not." "A heavenly dame, not skilless of these things," Replied the instructor, "told us, even now, 'Pass that way, here the gate is.'" "And may she, Befriending, prosper your ascent," resumed The courteous keeper of the gate. "Come, then, Before our steps." We straightway thither came. The lowest stair was marble white, so smooth And polished, that therein my mirrored form Distinct I saw. The next of hue more dark Than sablest grain, a rough and singed block Cracked lengthwise and across. The third, that lay Massy above, seemed porphyry, that flamed Red as the life-blood spouting from a vein. On this God's Angel either foot sustained, Upon the threshold seated, which appeared A rock of diamond. Up the trinal steps My leader cheerily drew me. "Ask," said he, "With humble heart, that he unbar the bolt." Piously at his holy feet devolved I cast me, praying him, for pity's sake, That he would open to me; but first fell Thrice on my bosom prostrate. Seven times The letter that denotes the inward stain, He, on my forehead, with the blunted point Of his drawn sword, inscribed. And "Look," he cried, "When entered, that thou wash these scars away." Ashes, or earth ta'en dry out of the ground, Were of one color with the robe he wore. From underneath that vestment forth he drew Two keys, of metal twain; the one was gold, Its fellow, silver. With the pallid first, And next the burnished, he so plyed the gate, As to content me well. "Whenever one Faileth of these that in the key-hole straight It turn not, to this alley then expect Access in vain." Such were the words he spake. "One is more precious, but the other needs Skill and sagacity, large share of each, Ere its good task to disengage the knot Be worthily performed. From Peter these I hold, of him instructed that I err Rather in opening, than in keeping fast; So but the suppliant at my feet implore." Then of that hallowed gate he thrust the door. Exclaiming, "Enter, but this warning hear: He forth again departs who looks behind." As in the hinges of that sacred ward The swivels turned, sonorous metal strong. Harsh was the grating; nor so surlily Rocked the Tarpeian when by force bereft Of good Metellus, thenceforth from his loss To leanness doomed. Attentively I turned, Listening the thunder that first issued forth; And "We praise Thee, O God," methought I heard, In accents blended with sweet melody. The strains came o'er mine ear, e'en as the sound Of choral voices, that in solemn chant With organ mingle, and, now high and clear Come swelling, now float indistinct away.--_Canto IX_. * * * * * Hell's dunnest gloom, or night unlustrous, dark, Of every planet reft, and palled in clouds, Did never spread before the sight a veil In thickness like that fog, nor to the sense So palpable and gross. Entering its shade, Mine eye endured not with unclosed lids; Which marking, near me drew the faithful guide, Offering me his shoulder for a stay. As the blind man behind his leader walks, Lest he should err, or stumble unawares On what might harm him, or perhaps destroy; I journeyed through that bitter air and foul, Still listening to my escort's warning voice, "Look that from me thou part not." Straight I heard Voices, and each one seemed to pray for peace, And for compassion to the Lamb of God That taketh sins away. The prelude still Was "Agnus Dei;" and, through all the choir, One voice, one measure ran, that perfect seemed The concord of their song. "Are these I hear Spirits, O Master?" I exclaimed; and he, "Thou aim'st aright: these loose the bonds of wrath."--_Canto_ XVI. * * * * * Forthwith from every side a shout arose So vehement, that suddenly my guide Drew near, and cried: "Doubt not, while I conduct thee." "Glory!" all shouted (such the sounds mine ear Gathered from those who near me swelled the sounds), "Glory in the highest be to God!" We stood Immovably suspended, like to those, The shepherds, who first heard in Bethlehem's field That song: till ceased the trembling, and the song Was ended: then our hallowed path resumed, Eyeing the prostrate shadows, who renewed Their customed mourning. Never in my breast Did ignorance so struggle with desire Of knowledge, if my memory do not err, As in that moment; nor, through haste, dared I To question, nor myself could aught discern. So on I fared, in thoughtfulness and dread.--_Canto XX._ * * * * * Now the last flexure of our way we reached; And, to the right hand turning, other care Awaits us. Here the rocky precipice Hurls forth redundant flames; and from the rim A blast up-blown, with forcible rebuff Driveth them back, sequestered from its bound. Behooved us, one by one, along the side, That bordered on the void, to pass; and I Feared on one hand the fire, on the other feared Headlong to fall: when thus the instructor warned: "Strict rein must in this place direct the eyes. A little swerving and the way is lost." Then from the bosom of the burning mass, "O God of mercy!" heard I sung, and felt No less desire to turn. And when I saw Spirits along the flame proceeding, I Between their footsteps and mine own was fain To share by turns my view. At the hymn's close They shouted loud, "I do not know a man;" [1] Then in low voice again took up the strain.-_Canto XXV_. [Footnote 1: _I do not know a man._ St. Luke, i. 34.] * * * * * Now was the sun [1] so stationed, as when first His early radiance quivers on the heights Where streamed his Maker's blood; while Libra hangs Above Hesperian Ebro; and new fires, Meridian, flash on Ganges' yellow tide. So day was sinking, when the Angel of God Appeared before us. Joy was in his mien. Forth of the flame he stood--upon the brink; And with a voice, whose lively clearness far Surpassed our human, "Blessed are the pure In heart," he sang; then, near him as we came, "Go ye not further, holy spirits," he cried, "Ere the fire pierce you; enter in, and list Attentive to the song ye hear from thence." I, when I heard his saying, was as one Laid in the grave. My hands together clasped, And upward stretching, on the fire I looked, And busy fancy conjured up the forms, Erewhile beheld alive, consumed in flames.--_Canto XXVII._ [Footnote 1: At Jerusalem it was dawn, in Spain midnight, and in India noonday, while it was sunset in Purgatory] HAMLET AND THE GHOST. SHAKESPEARE. HAMLET. Where wilt thou lead me? Speak, I'll go no further. GHOST. Mark me. HAM. I will. GHOST. My hour is almost come, When I to sulphurous and tormenting flames Must render up myself. HAM. Alas! poor ghost! GHOST. Pity me not, but lend thy serious hearing To what I shall unfold. HAM. Speak, I am bound to hear. GHOST. So art thou to revenge, when thou shalt hear. HAM. What? GHOST. I am thy father's spirit; Doomed for a certain time to walk the night; And, for the day, confined to fast in fires, Till the foul crimes, done in my days of nature, Are burnt and purged away. But that I am forbid To tell the secrets of my prison-house, I could a tale unfold, whose lightest word Would harrow up thy soul; freeze thy young blood; Make thy two eyes, like stars, start from their spheres; Thy knotted and combined locks to part, And each particular hair to stand on end, Like quills upon the fretful porcupine; But this eternal blason must not be To ears of flesh and blood. CALDERON'S "PURGATORY OF ST. PATRICK." In a work of this nature, it is essential to its purpose that the compiler should take cognizance of the many legends, wild and extravagant as some of them are, which have been current at various times and amongst various peoples, on the subject of Purgatory. For they have, indeed, a deep significance, proving how strong a hold this belief in a middle state of souls has taken on the popular mind. They are, in a certain sense, a part of Catholic tradition, and have to do with what is called Catholic instinct. They prove that this dogma of the Church has found a home in the hearts of the people, and become familiar to them, as the tales of childhood whispered around the winter hearth. If it appear now and then, in some such uncouth disguise, as that which we, are about to present to our readers, we see, nevertheless, through it all the truth, or rather the fragments of truth, such as is often found floating about through Europe on the breath of tradition. The curious legend has been turned by Calderon from dross into precious gold. He presents it to us in his "Purgatory of St. Patrick" with a beauty that divests it of much of its native wildness. He presumably drew his materials for the drama from a work, "The Life and Purgatory of St. Patrick," published in Spain in 1627 by Montalvan, a Spanish dramatist. It was translated into French by a Franciscan priest and doctor of theology, François Bouillon; as also into Portuguese by Father Manuel Caldeira. When this work was issued Calderon was wish the army in Flanders. He must have seen it, his brilliant imagination at once taking hold of it as the groundwork for a splendid effort of his genius. We cite here an extract from an introduction by Denis Florence MacCarthy to his translation of Calderon's "Purgatory of St. Patrick." It will be of interest as following the thread of this weird legend: The curious history of Ludovico Enio, on which the principal interest of this play depends, has been alluded to, and given more or less fully by many ancient authors. The name, though slightly altered by the different persons who have mentioned him, can easily be recognized as the same in all, whether as Owen, Oien, Owain, Eogan, Euenius, or Ennius. Perhaps the earliest allusion to him in any printed English work is that contained in 'Ranulph Hidgen's Polychronicon,' published at Westminster by Wynkin de Worde, in 1495: 'In this Steven's tyme, a knyght that hyght Owen wente into the Purgatory of the second Patrick, abbot, and not byshoppe. He came agayne and dwelled in the abbaye of Ludene of Whyte Monks in Irlonde, and tolde of joycs and of paynes that he had seen.' The history of Enio had, however, existed in manuscript for nearly three centuries and a half before the Polychronicon was printed; it had been written by Henry, the Monk of Salterey, in Huntingdonshire, from the account which he had received from Gilbert, a Cistercian monk of the Abbey of the Blessed Virgin Mary of Luden, or Louth, above mentioned. [1] Colgan, after collating this manuscript with two others on the same subject, which he had seen, printed it nearly in full in his "Trias." ... Matthew Paris had, however, before this, in his "History of England," under date 1153, given a full account of the adventures of OEnus in the Purgatory. ... Sir Walter Scott mentions, in his "Border Minstrelsy," that there is a curious Metrical Romance in the Advocates' Library of Edinburgh, called "The Legend of Sir Owain," relating his adventures in St. Patrick's Purgatory; he gives some stanzas from it, descriptive of the knight's passage of "The Brig o' Dread;" which, in the legend, is placed between Purgatory and Paradise. This poem is supposed to have been written early in the fourteenth century. [Footnote 1: Colgan's "Trias Thanmaturgæ," p. 281, Ware's "Annals of Ireland," A.D. 1497.] A second extract on the subject, taken from the Essay by Mr. Wright on the "Purgatory of St. Patrick," published in London in 1844, gives still further information with regard to it. "The mode," he says, "in which this legend was made public is thus told in the Latin narrative. Gervase (the founder and first Abbot of Louth, in Lincolnshire) sent his monk, Gilbert, to the king, then in Ireland, to obtain a grant to build a monastery there. Gilbert, on his arrival, complained to the king, Henry II., that he did not understand the language of the country. The king said to him,' I will give you an excellent interpreter,' and sent him the knight Owain, who remained with him during the time he was occupied in building the monastery, and repeated to him frequently the story of his adventures in Purgatory. Gilbert and his companions subsequently returned to England, and there he repeated the story, and some one said he thought it was all a dream, to which Gilbert answered: 'That there were some who believed that those who entered the Purgatory fell into a trance, and saw the vision in the spirit, but that the knight had denied this, and declared that the whole was seen and felt really in the body.' Both Gilbert, from whom Henry of Salterey received the story, and the bishop of the diocese, assured him that many perished in this Purgatory, and were never heard of afterwards." It is clear from the allusion to it in Cæsarius of Heisterbach, that already, at the beginning of the thirteenth century, St. Patrick's Purgatory had become famous throughout Europe. 'If any one doubt of Purgatory,' says this writer, 'let him go to Scotland (i. e., Ireland, to which this name was anciently given), and enter the Purgatory of St. Patrick, and his doubts will be expelled.' This recommendation was frequently acted upon in that, and particularly in the following century, when pilgrims from all parts of Europe, some of them men of rank and wealth, repaired thither. On the patent rolls in the Tower of London, under the year 1358, we have an instance of testimonials given by the king, Edward III., on the same day, to two distinguished foreigners, one a noble Hungarian, the other a Lombard, Nicholas de Becariis, of their having faithfully performed this pilgrimage. And still later, in 1397, we find King Richard II. granting a safe conduct to visit the same place to Raymond, Viscount of Perilhos, Knight of Rhodes, and Chamberlain of the King of France, with twenty men and thirty horses. Raymond de Perilhos, on his return to his native country, wrote a narrative of what he had seen, in the dialect of the Limousin (_Lemosinalingna_), of which a Latin version was printed by O'Sullivan in his '_Historia Catholica Ibernica.' ... This is a mere compilation from the story of 'Henry of Salterey,' and begins, like that, with an account of the origin of the Purgatory. He represents himself as having been first a minister to Charles V. of France, and subsequently the intimate friend of John I. of Aragon, after whose death (in 1395) he was seized with the desire of knowing how he was treated in the other world, and determined, like a new Æneas, to go into St. Patrick's Purgatory in search of him. He saw precisely the same sights as the knight, Owain, but (as in Calderon) only twelve men came to him in the hall instead of fifteen, and in the fourth hall of punishments he saw King John of Aragon, and many others of his friends and relations. We will now select from the drama of "Calderon" a few characteristic passages, to show how this subject was treated by the glowing pen and fervid fancy of the greatest of all the poets of Catholic Spain, whose poetry, indeed, is deserving of more widespread appreciation than it has yet received at the hands of the Catholic reading public. We will begin with those lines in which Ludovico Enio, the hero of the tale, makes known his identity to King Egerio. LUDOVICO. Listen, most beautiful divinity, For thus begins the story of my life. Great Egerio, King of Ireland, I Am Ludovico Enio--a Christian also-- In this do Patrick and myself agree, And differ, being Christians both, And yet as opposite as good from evil. But for the faith which I sincerely hold (So greatly do I estimate its worth), I would lay down a hundred thousand lives-- Bear witness, thou all-seeing Lord and God. . . . . . . All crimes, Theft, murder, treason, sacrilege, betrayal Of dearest friends, all these I must relate. For these are all my glory and my pride. In one of Ireland's many islands I Was born, and much do I suspect that all The planets seven, in wild confusion strange, Assisted at my most unhappy birth. He proceeds with a catalogue of his crimes, most dark, indeed, and relates how St. Patrick, who was present, had saved him from shipwreck. The King, however, who is a pagan, takes the Knight into his service, while he bids the Saint begone. Before they part Patrick asks of him a favor: PATRICK. This one boon I ask-- LUDOVICO. What is it? PATRICK. That, alive or dead, we meet In this world once again. LUDOVICO. Dost thou demand So strange and dread a promise from me? PATRICK. Yes. LUDOVICO. I give it to thee then. PATRICK. And I accept it. What follows is from a conversation between Patrick and the King, wherein are explained many of the truths of faith, including the existence of heaven and of hell. Thus the Saint: PATRICK. There are more places In the other world than those of Everlasting pain and glory: Learn, O King, that there's another, Which is Purgatory; whither Flies the soul that has departed In a state of grace; but bearing Still some stains of sin upon it: For with these no soul can enter God's pure kingdom--there it dwelleth Till it purifies and burneth All the dross from out its nature; Then it flieth, pure and limpid, Into God's divinest presence. KING. So you say, but I have nothing, Save your own words, to convince me; Give me of the soul's existence Some strong proof--some indication-- Something tangible and certain-- Which my hands may feel and grasp at. And since you appear so powerful With your God, you can implore him, That to finish my conversion, He may show some real being, Not a mere ideal essence, Which all men can touch; remember, But one single hour remaineth For this task: this day you give us Certain proofs of pain or glory, Or you die: where we are standing Let your God display his wonders-- And since we, perhaps, may merit Neither punishment nor glory, Let the other place be shown us, Which you say is Purgatory. PATRICK then prays, concluding with the words: "I ask, O Lord, may from Thy hand be given, That Purgatory, Hell, and Heaven May be revealed unto those mortals' sight." An Angel then descends and speaks as follows: ANGEL. Patrick, God has heard thy prayer, He has listened to thy vows; And as thou hast ask'd, allows Earth's great secrets to lie bare. Seek along this island ground For a vast and darksome cave, Which restrains the lake's dark wave, And supports the mountains round; He who dares to go therein, Having first contritely told All his faults, shall there behold Where the soul is purged from sin. He shall see with mortal eyes Hell itself--where those who die In their sins forever lie, In the fire that never dies. He shall see, in blest fruition, Where the happy spirits dwell. But of this be sure as well-- He who without true contrition Enters there to idly try What the cave may be, doth go To his death--he'll suffer woe While the Lord doth reign on high. Who this day shall set you free From this poor world's weariness; He shall grant to you, in pity, Bliss undreamed by mortal men-- Making thee a denizen Of his own celestial city. He shall to the world proclaim His omnipotence and glory, By the wondrous Purgatory, Which shall bear thy sainted name. Polonia, the King's daughter, whom Ludovico had married and deserted, having first tried to kill her, appears upon the scene just as the King, Patrick, and some others, who have set out upon their quest for the Purgatory, have reached a gloomy mountain and a deep cave. Polonia relates the wonders and the terrors of the cavern through which she has passed. Patrick then speaks as follows: PATRICK. This cave, Egerio, which you see, concealeth Many mysteries of life and death, Not for him whose hardened bosom feeleth Nought of true repentance or true faith. But he who freely enters, who revealeth All his sins with penitential breath, Shall endure his Purgatory then, And return forgiven back again. Later in the drama we find Ludovico desiring "To enter Into Patrick's Purgatory; Humbly and devoutly keeping Thus the promise that I gave him." Again, he says: "I have faith and firm reliance That you yet shall see me happy, If in God's name blessed Patrick, "Aid me in the Purgatory." Having confessed his sins and made due preparation, he enters the cave. On his return hence, the Priest, or Canon as he is called, bids him relate the wonders he has seen. He finds himself first "in thick and pitchy darkness," he hears horrid clangor, and falls down at length into a hall of jasper, where he meets with twelve grave men, who encourage him, and bid him keep up his courage amid the fearful sights he is to behold later on. At length he reaches the Purgatory: "I approached another quarter; There it seemed that many spirits I had known elsewhere, were gathered Into one vast congregation, Where, although 'twas plain they suffered, Still they looked with joyous faces, Wore a peaceable appearance, Uttered no impatient accents, But, with moistened eyes uplifted Towards the heavens, appeared imploring Pity, and their sins lamenting. This, in truth, was Purgatory, Where the sins that are more venial Are purged out." He then alludes to that Bridge or "Brig o' Dread," to which allusion will be made in another portion of our volume. As this passage is celebrated, it is well to give it in full: LUDOVICO. To a river did they lead me, Flowers of fire were on its margin, Liquid sulphur was its current, Many-headed hydras--serpents-- Monsters of the deep were in it; It was very broad, and o'er it Lay a bridge, so slight and narrow That it seem'd a thin line only. It appear'd so weak and fragile, That the slightest weight would sink it. "Here thy pathway lies," they told me, "O'er this bridge so weak and narrow; And, for thy still greater horror, Look at those who've pass'd before thee." Then I look'd, and saw the wretches Who the passage were attempting Fall amid the sulphurous current, Where the snakes with teeth and talons Tore them to a thousand pieces. Notwithstanding all these horrors, I, the name of God invoking, Undertook the dreadful passage, And, undaunted by the billows, Or the winds that blew around me, Reached the other side in safety. Here within a wood I found me, So delightful and so fertile, That the past was all forgotten. On my path rose stately cedars, Laurels--all the trees of Eden. After having described some of the glories of this abode of bliss, he relates his meeting with "the resplendent, the most glorious, the great Patrick, the Apostle"--and was thus enabled to keep his early promise. The poem ends with the following somewhat confused list of authorities: "For with this is now concluded The historic legend told us By Dionysius, the great Carthusian, With Henricus Salteriensis, Cæsarius Heisterbachensis, Matthew Paris, and Ranulphus, Monbrisius, Marolicus Siculus, David Rothe, and the judicious Primate over all Hibernia, Bellarmino, Beda, Serpi, Friar Dymas, Jacob Sotin, Messingham, and in conclusion The belief and pious feeling Which have everywhere maintained it." From Alban Butler's notes to "Lives of the Saints," Vol. I. p. 103, we subjoin the following: "St. Patrick's Purgatory is a cave on an island in the Lake Dearg (Lough Derg), in the County of Donegal, near the borders of Fermanagh. Bollandus shows the falsehood of many things related concerning it. Upon complaint of certain superstitious and false notions of the vulgar, in 1497, it was stopped up by an order of the Pope. See Bollandus, 'Tillemont,' p. 287, Alemand in his 'Monastic Hist. of Ireland,' and Thiers, 'Hist. des. Superst.' I. 4 ed. Nov. It was soon after opened again by the inhabitants; but only according to the original institution, as Bollandus takes notice, as a penitential retirement for those who voluntarily chose it, probably in imitation of St. Patrick, or other saints, who had there dedicated themselves to a penitential state. They usually spent several days here, living on bread and water, lying on rushes, praying and making stations barefoot." THE BRIG O' DREAD. SIR WALTER SCOTT. In connection with the extracts which we have given from the celebrated Drama of Calderon, the "Purgatory of St. Patrick," and in particular of that one which relates to the passage of Ludovico over the bridge which leads from Purgatory to Paradise, it will be interesting to quote the following from Sir Walter Scott's "Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border:" "There is a sort of charm, sung by the lower ranks of Roman Catholics, in some parts of the north of England, while watching a dead body previous to interment. The tone is doleful and monotonous, and, joined to the mysterious import of the words, has a solemn effect. The word sleet, in the chorus, seems to be corrupted from selt or salt; a quantity of which, in compliance with a popular superstition, is frequently placed on the breast of a corpse. The mythologic ideas of the dirge are common to various creeds. The Mahometan believes that, in advancing to the final judgment seat, he must traverse a bar of red-hot iron, stretched across a bottomless gulf. The good works of each true believer, assuming a substantial form, will then interpose between his feet and this 'Bridge of Dread;' but the wicked, having no such protection, fall headlong into the abyss." Passages similar to this dirge are also to be found in "Lady Culross' Dream," as quoted in the second Dissertation, prefixed by Mr. Pinkerton to his select Scottish Ballads, 2 vols. The dreamer journeys towards heaven, accompanied and assisted by a celestial guide: "Through dreadful dens, which made my heart aghast, He bore me up when I began to tire. Sometimes we clamb o'er craggy mountains high, And sometimes stay'd on ugly braes of sand. "They were so stay that wonder was to see; But when I fear'd, he held me by the hand. Through great deserts we wandered on our way-- Forward we passed a narrow bridge of trie, O'er waters great, which hideously did roar." Again, she supposes herself suspended over an infernal gulf: "Ere I was ware, one gripped me at the last, And held me high above a flaming fire. The fire was great, the heat did pierce me sore; My faith grew-weak; my grip was very small. I trembled fast; my faith grew more and more." A horrible picture of the same kind, dictated probably by the author's unhappy state of mind, is to be found in Brooke's "Fool of Quality." The Russian funeral service, without any allegorical imagery, expresses the sentiment of the dirge in language alike simple and noble: "Hast thou pitied the afflicted, O man? In death shalt thou be pitied. Hast thou consoled the orphan? The orphan will deliver thee. Hast thou clothed the naked? The naked will procure thee protection."-- _Richardson's "Anecdotes of Russia."_ But the most minute description of the Brig o' Dread occurs in the legend of Sir Owain, No. XL. in the MS. collection of romances, W. 4. I, Advocates' Library, Edinburgh. Sir Owain, a Northumbrian knight, after many frightful adventures in St. Patrick's Purgatory, at last arrives at the bridge, which, in the legend, is placed betwixt Purgatory and Paradise: "The fendes han the Knight ynome, To a stink and water thai ben ycome, He no seigh never er non swiche; It stank fouler than ani hounde, And mani mile it was to the grounde, And was as swart as piche. "And Owain seigh ther ouer ligge A swithe, strong, naru brigge: The fendes seyd tho; Lo, Sir Knight, sestow this, This is the brigge of Paradis, Here ouer thou must go. "And we the schul with stones prowe And the winde the schul ouer blow, And wirche the ful wo; Thou no schalt for all this unduerd, Bot gif thou falle a midwerd, To our fewes [1] mo. [Footnote 1: Sir Walter Scott says probably a contraction of "fellows."] "And when thou art adoun yfalle, Than schal com our felawes alle, And with her hokes the hede; We schul the teche a newe playe: Thou hast served ous mani a day, And into helle the lede. "Owain biheld the brigge smert, The water ther under blek and swert, And sore him gan to drede; For of othing he tok yeme, Never mot, in sonne beme, Thicker than the fendes yede. "The brigge was as heigh as a tower, And as scharpe as a rasour, And naru it was also; "And the water that ther run under, Brend o' lighting and of thonder, That thocht him michel wo. "Ther nis no clerk may write with ynke, No no man no may bithink, No no maister deuine; That is ymade forsoth ywis, Under the brigge of paradis Halven del the pine. "So the dominical ous telle, Ther is the pure entrae of helle, Seine Poule [1] verth witnesse; Whoso falleth of the brigge adown, Of him nis no redempcion, Neither more nor lesse. [Footnote 1: St. Paul.] "The fendes seyd to the Knight tho, 'Ouer this brigge might thou nowght go, For noneskines nede; Fie peril sorwe and wo, And to that stede ther thou com fro, Wel fair we schul the lede.' "Owain anon began bithenche, Fram hou mani of the fendes wrenche, God him saved hadde; He sett his fot opon the brigge, No feld he no scharpe egge, No nothing him no drad. "When the fendes yseigh tho, That he was more than half ygo, Loude thai gun to crie: Allas! Allas! that he was born! This ich night we habe forlorn Out of our baylie."--_Minstrelsy of Scottish Border._ SHELLEY AND THE PURGATORY OF ST. PATRICK. It will be of interest to quote the following passage from one of Shelley's best known works, "The Cenci," of which he himself says: "An idea in this speech was suggested by a most sublime passage in 'El Purgatorio de San Patricio,' of Calderon." "But I remember, Two miles on this side of the fort, the road Crosses a deep ravine; 'tis rough and narrow, And winds with short turns down the precipice; And in its depths there is a mighty rock Which has, from unimaginable years, Sustained itself with terror and with toil Over the gulf, and with the agony With which it clings seems slowly coming down; Even as a wretched soul, hour after hour, Clings to the mass of life; yet clinging, leans; And leaning, makes more dark the dread abyss In which it fears to fall; beneath this crag Huge as despair, as if in weariness, The melancholy mountain yawns." ON A GREAT FUNERAL. [1] [Footnote: The above lines apply with peculiar impressiveness to the funeral of General Grant, so lately occupying public attention.] AUBREY DE VERE. No more than this? The chief of nations bears Her chief of sons to his last resting-place; Through the still city, sad and slow of pace, The sable pageant streams; and as it nears That dome, to-day a vault funereal, tears Run down the gray-hair'd veteran's wintry face; Deep organs sob and flags their front abase; And the snapt wand the rite complete declares. Soul, that before thy Judge dost stand this day, Disrobed of strength and puissance, pomp and power; O soul! defrauded at thine extreme hour Of man's sole help from man, and latest stay, Swells there for thee no prayer from all that host, And is this burial but a nation's boast? "MORTE D'ARTHUR." TENNYSON. Then loudly cried the bold Sir Bedivere, "Ah! my Lord Arthur, whither shall I go? Where shall I hide my forehead and my eyes? For now I see the true old times are dead, When every morning brought a noble chance, And every chance brought out a noble knight. Such times have been not since the light that led The holy Elders with the gift of myrrh. But now the whole Round Table is dissolved Which was an image of the mighty world; And I, the last, go forth companionless, And the days darken round me, and the years, Among new men, strange faces, other minds." And slowly answered Arthur from the barge: "The old order changeth, yielding place to new, And God fulfils Himself in many ways. Lest one good custom should corrupt the world. Comfort thyself: what comfort is in me? I have lived my life, and that which I have done May He within Himself make pure! but thou, If thou shouldst never see my face again, Pray for my soul. More things are wrought by prayer Than this world dreams of. Wherefore, let thy voice Rise like fountain for me night and day. For what are men better than sheep or goats That nourish a blind life within the brain, If, knowing God, they lift not hands of prayer Both for themselves and those who call them friend? For so the whole round earth is every way Bound by gold chains about the feet of God. But now farewell! I am going a long way With these thou seest--if indeed I go (For all my mind is clouded with a doubt) To the island-valley of Avilion; Where falls not hail, or rain, or any snow; Nor ever wind blows loudly; but it lies Deep-meadowed, happy, fair with orchard lawns And bowery hollows crowned with summer sea, Where I will heal me of my grievous wound." So said he, and the barge with oar and sail Moved from the brink, like some full-breasted swan. That, fluting a wild carol, ere her death, Ruffles her pure cold plume, and takes the flood With swarthy webs. Long stood Sir Bedivere Revolving many memories, till the hull Looked one black dot against the verge of dawn, And on the meer the wailing died away. GUIDO AND HIS BROTHER. COLLlN DE PLANCY. The brother who forgets his brother is no longer a man, he is a monster.--Sr. John Chrysostom. Peter the Venerable relates the story of a lord of his time, named Guy or Guido, who had lost his life in battle; this was very common in the Middle Ages, when the nobles were beyond all else great warriors. As this Guido had not been able to make his last confession, he appeared fully armed, to a priest, some time after his death. "Stephanus," said he (that was the name of the priest), "I pray thee go to my brother Anselm; thou shalt tell him that I conjure him to restore an ox which I took from a peasant," naming him; "and also to repair the damage I did to a village which did not--belong to me, by wrongfully imposing taxes thereupon. I was unable to confess, or to expiate these two sins, for which I am grievously tormented. As an assurance of what I tell thee," continued the apparition, "I warn thee that, when thou returnest to thy dwelling, thou shalt find that the money thou hast saved to make the pilgrimage of St. James has been stolen." The priest, on his return, actually found that his strongbox had been broken open and his money carried off; but he could not discharge his commission, because Anselm was absent. A few days after, the same Guido appeared a second time, to reproach Stephanus for his neglect. The good priest excused himself on the impossibility of finding Anselm; but learning that he had returned to his manor, he repaired thither, and faithfully fulfilled his commission. He was received very coolly. Anselm told him that he was not obliged to do penance for the sins of his brother; and with these words he dismissed him. The dead man, who experienced no relief, appeared a third time, and bemoaning his brother's harshness, he besought the worthy servant of God to have compassion himself on his distress, and assist him in his extremity. Stephanus, much affected, promised that he would, He restored the price of the stolen ox, gave alms to the wronged village, said prayers, recommended the deceased to all the good people he knew, and then Guido appeared no more. BERTHOLD IN PURGATORY. COLLIN DE PLANCY. Miseremini mei, miseremini mei, saltem vos, amici moi.--JOB xix. A short time after the death of Charles the Bald, there is found in Hincmar a narrative which it may be well to introduce here; it is the journey of Berthold, or Bernold, to Purgatory in the spirit. Berthold was a citizen of Rheims, of good life, fulfilling his Christian duties and enjoying public esteem. He was subject to ecstasies, or syncope, which sometimes lasted a good while. Then, whether he had visions, or that his soul transported itself or was transported out of his body--an effect which, is evidently produced in our days by magnetism--he made, in his ecstasies, several journeys into Purgatory. Having fallen seriously ill when already well advanced in age, he received all the sacraments which console the conscience; after which he remained four entire days in a sort of ecstasy, during which he took no nourishment of any kind. At the end of the fourth day he had become so weak that there was hardly any breath in him. About midnight, however, he begged his wife to send quickly for his confessor. He afterwards remained motionless. But, at the end of a quarter of an hour, he said to his wife: "Place a seat here, for the priest is coming." He entered the moment after, and recited the beautiful prayers for the departing soul, to which Berthold responded clearly and exactly. After this he had again a moment of ecstasy; and, coming out of it, he related his several visits to Purgatory, and the commissions wherewith he had been charged by many suffering souls. He was conducted by a spirit, an Angel doubtless. Amongst those who were being purified, in ice or in fire, he found Ebbon, Archbishop of Rheims; Pardule, Bishop of Laon; Enée, Bishop of Paris, and some other prelates, clothed in filthy garments, torn and rusty. Their faces were wrinkled, haggard, and sallow. Ebbon besought him to ask the clergy and people of Rheims to pray for him and his companions, who made him the same request. He charged himself with all these commissions. He found, farther on, or in another visit, the soul of Charles the Bald, extended in the mud and much exhausted. The ex-king asked Berthold to recommend him to Archbishop Hincmar and the princes of his family, acknowledging that he was principally punished for having given ecclesiastical benefices to courtiers and worldly laics, as had been done by his ancestor, Charles Martel. Berthold promised to do what he could. Farther on, and perhaps also on another occasion, he saw Jesse, Bishop of Orleans, in the hands of four dark spirits, who were plunging him alternately into a well of boiling pitch and one of ice-cold water. Not far from him, Count Othaire was in other torments. The two sufferers recommended themselves, like the others, to the pious offices of Berthold, who faithfully executed the commissions of the souls in pain. He applied, on behalf of the bishops, to their clergy and people; for King Charles the Bald, to Archbishop Hincmar. He wrote besides--for he was a lettered man--to the relatives of the deceased monarch, making known to them the state wherein he had seen him. He went to urge the wife of Othaire, his vassals and friends, to offer up prayers and give alms for him; and in a last visit which he was permitted to make, he learned that Count Othaire and Bishop Jessé were delivered; King Charles the Bald had reached the term of his punishment; and he saw the Bishops Ebbon, Enée, and Pardule, who thanked him as they went forth from Purgatory, fresh and robed in white. After this account, whereto Berthold subjoined that his guide had promised him some more years of life, he asked for Holy Communion, received it, felt himself cured, left his bed on the following day, and his life was prolonged for fourteen years. A LEGEND OF ST. NICHOLAS. Let us quote here, says Collin de Plancy, a good English religious whose journey has been related by Peter the Venerable, Abbot of Cluny, and by Denis the Carthusian. This traveller speaks in the first person: "I had St. Nicholas for a guide," he says; "he led me by a level road to a vast horrible space, peopled with the dead, who were tormented in a thousand frightful ways. I was told that these people were not damned, that their torment would in time come to an end, and that it was Purgatory I saw. I did not expect to find it so severe. All these unfortunates wept hot tears and groaned aloud. Since I have seen all these things I know well that if I had any relative in Purgatory, I would suffer a thousand deaths to take him out of it. "A little farther on, I perceived a valley, through which flowed a fearful river of fire, which rose in waves to an enormous height. On the banks of that river it was so icy cold that no one can have any idea of it. St. Nicholas conducted me thither, and made me observe the sufferers who were there, telling me that this again was Purgatory." "DREAM OF GERONTIUS." CARDINAL NEWMAN. ANGEL. Thy judgment now is near, for we are come Into the veiled presence of our God. SOUL. I hear the voices that I left on earth. ANGEL. It is the voice of friends around thy bed, Who say the "Subvenite" with the priest. Hither the echoes come; before the Throne Stands the great Angel of the Agony, The same who strengthened Him, what time He knelt Lone in that garden shade, bedewed with blood. That Angel best can plead with Him for all Tormented souls, the dying and the dead. ANGEL OF THE AGONY. Jesu! by that shuddering dread which fell on Thee; Jesu! by that cold dismay which sicken'd Thee; Jesu! by that pang of heart which thrill'd in Thee; Jesu! by that mount of sins which crippled Thee; Jesu! by that sense of guilt which stifled Thee; Jesu! by that innocence which girdled Thee; Jesu! by that sanctity which reign'd in Thee; Jesu! by that Godhead which was one with Thee; Jesu! spare these souls which are so dear to Thee; Who in prison, calm and patient, wait for Thee; Hasten, Lord, their hour, and bid them come to Thee, To that glorious Home, where they shall ever gaze on Thee. SOUL. I go before my Judge. Ah! ... ANGEL. ... Praise to His Name! The eager spirit has darted from my hold, And, with the intemperate energy of love, Flies to the dear feet of Emmanuel; But, ere it reach them, the keen sanctity, Which, with its effluence, like a glory, clothes And circles round the Crucified, has seized, And scorch'd, and shrivell'd it; and now it lies Passive and still before the awful Throne. O happy, suffering soul! for it is safe, Consumed, yet quicken'd, by the glance of God. SOUL. Take me away, and in the lowest deep There let me be, And there in hope the lone night-watches keep, Told out for me. There, motionless and happy in my pain, Lone, not forlorn,--There will I sing my sad, perpetual strain, Until the morn. There will I sing, and soothe my stricken breast, Which ne'er can cease To throb, and pine, and languish, till possess'd Of its Sole Peace. There will I sing my absent Lord and Love:--Take me away, That sooner I may rise, and go above, And see Him in the truth--of everlasting day. ANGEL. Now let the golden prison ope its gates, Making sweet music, as each fold revolves Upon its ready hinge. And ye, great powers, Angels of Purgatory, receive from me My charge, a precious soul, until the day, When from all bond and forfeiture released, I shall reclaim it for the courts of light. SOULS IN PURGATORY 1. Lord, Thou hast been our refuge: in every generation; 2. Before the hills were born, and the world was: from age to age, Thou art God. 3. Bring us not, Lord, very low: for Thou hast said, Come back again, ye sons of Adam! 4. A thousand years before Thine eyes are but as yesterday: and as a watch of the night which is come and gone. 5. The grass springs up in the morning: at evening-tide it shrivels up and dies. 6. So we fall in Thine anger: and in Thy wrath are we troubled. 7. Thou hast set our sins in Thy sight: and our round of days in the light of Thy countenance. 8. Come back, O Lord! how long: and be entreated for Thy servants. 9. In Thy morning we shall be filled with Thy mercy: we shall rejoice and be in pleasure all our days. 10. We shall be glad according to the days of our humiliation: and the years in which we have seen evil. 11. Look, O Lord, upon Thy servants and upon Thy work: and direct their children. 12. And let the beauty of the 'Lord our God be upon us: and the work of our hands, establish Thou it. Glory be to the Father, and to the Son: and to the Holy Ghost. As it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be: world without end. Amen. ANGEL. Softly and gently, dearly-ransom'd soul, In my most loving arms I now enfold thee, And, o'er the penal waters, as they roll, I poise thee, and I lower thee, and hold thee. And carefully I dip thee in the lake, And thou, without a sob, or a resistance, Dost through the flood thy rapid passage take, Sinking deep, deeper, into the dim distance. Angels, to whom the willing task is given, Shall tend, and nurse, and lull thee, as thou liest; And Masses on the earth, and prayers in heaven, Shall aid thee at the throne of the Most High. Farewell, but not for ever! brother dear, Be brave and patient on thy bed of sorrow; Swiftly shall pass thy night of trial here, And I will come and wake thee on the morrow. ST. GREGORY RELEASES THE SOUL OF THE EMPEROR TRAJAN MRS. JAMESON. In a little picture in the Bologna Academy he is seen praying before a tomb, on which is inscribed "TRAJANO IMPERADOR;" beneath are two angels, raising the soul of Trafan out of flames. Such is the usual treatment of this curious and poetical legend, which is thus related in the "Legenda Aurea": "It happened on a time, as Trajan was hastening to battle at the head of his legions, that a poor widow flung herself in his path, and cried aloud for justice, and the emperor stayed to listen to her; and she demanded vengeance for the innocent blood of her son, killed by the son of the emperor. Trajan promised to do her justice when he returned from his expedition. 'But, sire', answered the widow, 'should you be killed in battle, who will then do me justice?' 'My successor,' replied Trajan. And she said, 'What will it signify to you, great emperor, that any other than yourself should do me justice? Is it not better that you should do this good action yourself than leave another to do it?' And Trajan alighted, and having examined into the affair, he gave up his own son to her in place of him she had lost, and bestowed on her likewise a rich dowry. Now, it came to pass that as Gregory was one day meditating in his daily walk, this action of the Emperor Trajan came into his mind, and he wept bitterly to think that a man so just should be condemned to eternal punishment. And entering a church, he prayed most fervently that the soul of the good emperor might be released from torment. And a voice said to him, 'I have granted thy prayer, and I have spared the soul of Trajan for thy sake; but because thou hast supplicated for one whom the justice of God had already condemned, thou shalt choose one of two things: either thou shalt endure for two days the fires of Purgatory, or thou shalt be sick and infirm for the remainder of thy life.' Gregory chose the latter, which sufficiently accounts for the grievous pains and infirmities to which this great and good man was subjected, even to the day of his death." This story of Trajan was extremely popular in the Middle Ages; it is illustrative of the character of Gregory.... Dante twice alludes to it. He describes it as being one of the subjects sculptured on the walls of Purgatory, and takes occasion to relate the whole story. "There was storied on the rock Th'exalted glory of the Roman Prince, Whose mighty worth moved Gregory to earn This mighty conquest--Trajan the Emperor. A widow at his bridle stood attired In tears and mourning. Round about them troop'd Full throng of knights: and overhead in gold The eagles floated, struggling with the wind The wretch appear'd amid all these to say: 'Grant vengeance, sire! for woe, beshrew this heart, My son is murder'd!' He, replying, seem'd: 'Wait now till I return.' And she, as one Made hasty by her grief: 'O, sire, if thou Dost not return?'--'Where I am, who then is, May right thee.'--'What to thee is others' good, If thou neglect thine own?'--'Now comfort thee,' At length he answers: 'It beseemeth well My duty be perform'd, ere I move hence. So justice wills and pity bids me stay.'"--_Purg. Canto X_. It was through the efficacy of St. Gregory's intercession that Dante afterwards finds Trajan in Paradise, seated between King David and King Hezekiah.--_Purg. Canto XX_. ST. GREGORY AND THE MONK There was a monk who, in defiance of his vow of poverty, secreted in his cell three pieces of gold. Gregory, on learning this, excommunicated him, and shortly afterwards the monk died. When Gregory heard that the monk had perished in his sin, without receiving absolution, he was filled with grief and horror, and he wrote upon a parchment a prayer and a form of absolution, and gave it to one of his deacons, desiring him to go to the grave of the deceased and read it there: on the following night the monk appeared in a vision, and revealed to him his release from torment. This story is represented in the beautiful bas-relief in white marble in front of the altar of his chapel; it is the last compartment on the right. In chapels dedicated to the Service of the Dead, St. Gregory is often represented in the attitude of supplication, while on one side, or in the background, angels are raising the tormented souls out of the flames.--_Sacred and Legendary Art, Vol. I._ THE LEGEND OF GEOFFROID D'IDEN. It is related by Peter the Venerable, Abbot of Cluny, that, in the first half of the twelfth century, the Lord Humbert, son of Guichard, Count de Beaujeu, in the Maçonnais, having made war on some other neighboring lords, Geoffroid d'Iden, one of his vassals, received in the fight a wound which instantly killed him. Two months after his death, Geoffroid appeared to Milon d'Ansa, who knew him well; he begged him to tell Humbert de Beaujeu, in whose service he had lost his life, that he was in Purgatory, for having aided him in an unjust war and not having expiated his sins by penance, before his unlooked-for death; that he besought him, therefore, most urgently, to have compassion on him, and also on his own father, Guichard, who, although he had led a religious life at Cluny in his latter days, had not entirely satisfied the justice of God for his past sins, and especially for a portion of his wealth, which, as his children knew, was ill gained; that, in consequence thereof, he prayed him to have the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass offered for him and for his father, to distribute alms to the poor, and to recommend both sufferers to the prayers of good people, in order to shorten their time of penance. "Tell him," added the apparition, "that if he hear thee not, I must go myself to announce to him that which I have now told to thee." The lof Ansa (now Anse) faithfully discharged the task imposed upon him. Humbert was frightened; but he neither had prayers nor Masses offered up, made no reparation, and distributed no alms. Nevertheless, fearing lest Guichard his father or Geoffroid d'Iden might come to disturb him, he no longer dared to remain alone, especially by night; and he always had some of his people around him, making them sleep in his chamber. One morning, as he was still in bed, but awake, he saw appear before him Geoffroid d'Iden, armed as on the day of the battle. Showing him the mortal wound which he had received, and which appeared still fresh, he warmly reproached him for the little pity he had for himself and for his father, who was groaning in torment; and he added: "Take care lest God may treat thee in His rigor, and refuse thee the mercy thou dost not grant to us; and for thee, give up thy purpose of going to the war with Amadeus. If thou goest thither, thou shalt lose thy life and thy possessions." At that moment, Richard de Marsay, the Count's squire, entered, coming from Mass; the, spirit disappeared, and thenceforward Humbert de Beaujeu went seriously to work to relieve his father and his vassal, after which he made the journey to Jerusalem to expiate his own sins. THE QUEEN OF PURGATORY. BY FREDERICK WILLIAM FABER, D. D. Oh! turn to Jesus, Mother! turn, And call Him by His tenderest names; Pray for the Holy Souls that burn This hour amid the cleansing flames. Ah! they have fought a gallant fight; In death's cold arms they persevered; And, after life's uncheery night, The harbor of their rest is neared. In pains beyond all earthly pains Fav'rites of Jesus, there they lie, Letting the fire wear out their stains, And worshipping God's purity. Spouses of Christ they are, for He Was wedded to them by His blood; And angels o'er their destiny In wondering adoration brood. They are the children of thy tears; Then hasten, Mother! to their aid; In pity think each hour appears An age while glory is delayed! See, how they bound amid their fires, While pain and love their spirits fill; Then, with self-crucified desires, Utter sweet murmurs, and lie still. Ah me! the love of Jesus yearns O'er that abyss of sacred pain; And, as He looks, His bosom burns With Calvary's dear thirst again. O Mary! let thy Son no more His lingering spouses thus expect; God's children to their God restore, And to the Spirit His elect. Pray then, as thou hast ever prayed; Angels and Souls all look to thee; God waits thy prayers, for He hath made Those prayers His law of charity. THE DEAD PRIEST BEFORE THE ALTAR. REV. A. J. RYAN. Who will watch o'er the dead young priest, People and priests and all? No, no, no, 'tis his spirit's feast, When the evening shadows fall. Let him rest alone--unwatched, alone, Just beneath the altar's light, The holy Hosts on their humble throne Will watch him through the night. The doors were closed--he was still and fair, What sound moved up the aisles? The dead priests come with soundless prayer, Their faces wearing smiles. And this was the soundless hymn they sung: "We watch o'er you to-night; Your life was beautiful, fair and young, Not a cloud upon its light. To-morrow--to-morrow you will rest With the virgin priests whom Christ has blest." Kyrie Eleison! the stricken crowd Bowed down their heads in tears O'er the sweet young priest in his vestment shroud. Ah! the happy, happy years! They are dead and gone, and the Requiem Mass Went slowly, mournfully on, The Pontiff's singing was all a wail, The altars cried and the people wept, The fairest flower in the Church's vale Ah me! how soon we pass! In the vase of his coffin slept. _--From In Memoriam._ MEMORIALS OF THE BEAD. R. R. MADDEN. [1] [Footnote 1: Author of "Lives and Times of United Irishmen."] 'Tis not alone in "hallowed ground," At every step we tread Midst tombs and sepulchres, are found Memorials of the dead. 'Tis not in sacred shrines alone, Or trophies proudly spread On old cathedral walls are shown Memorials of the dead. Emblems of Fame surmounting death, Of war and carnage dread, They were not, in the "Times of Faith," Memorials of the dead. From marble bust and pictured traits The living looks recede, They fade away: so frail are these Memorials of the dead. On mural slabs, names loved of yore Can now be scarcely read; A few brief years have left no more Memorials of the dead. Save those which pass from sire to son, Traditions that are bred In the heart's core, and make their own Memorials of the dead. A CHILD'S REQUIESCAT IN PACE. _ELIZA ALLEN STARR_. With the gray dawn's faintest break, Mother, faithfully I wake, Whispering softly for thy sake _Requiescat in pace_! When the sun's broad disk at height Floods the busy world with light, Breathes my soul with sighs contrite, _Requiescat in pace_! When the twilight shadows lone Wrap the home once, once thine own, Sobs my heart with broken moan, _Requiescat in pace_! Night, so solemn, grand, and still, Trances forest, meadow, rill; Hush, fond heart, adore His will, _Requiescat in pace_! THE SOLITARY SOUL. I died; but my soul did not wing its flight straight to the heaven- nest, and there repose in the bosom of Him who made it, as the minister who was with me said it would. Good old man! He had toiled among us, preaching baptizing, marrying, and burrying, until his hair had turned from nut-brown to frost-white; and he told me, as I lay dying, that the victory of the Cross was the only passport I needed to the joys of eternity; that a life like mine would meet its immediate reward. And it did; but, O my God! not as he had thought, and I had believed. As he prayed, earth's sights and sounds faded from me, and the strange, new life began. The wrench of agony with which soul and body parted left me breathless; and my spirit, like a lost child, turned frightened eyes towards home. I stood in a dim, wind-swept space. No gates of pearl or walls of jacinth met my gaze; no streaming glory smote my eyes; no voice bade me enter and put on the wedding garment. Hosts of pale shapes circled by, but no one saw me. All had their faces uplifted, and their hands--such patient, pathetic hands--were clasped on their hearts; and the air was heavy with the whisper, "Christ! Christ!" that came unceasingly from their lips. Above us, the clouds drifted and turned; about us, the horizon was blotted out; mist and grayness were everywhere. A voiceless wind swept by; and as I gazed, sore dismayed and saddened, a rent opened in the driving mass, and I saw a man standing with arms upraised. He was strangely vestured; silver and gold gleamed in his raiment, and a large cross was outlined upon his back. He held in his hands a chalice of gold, in which sparkled something too liquid for fire, too softly brilliant for water or wine. As this sight broke on our vision, two figures near me uttered a cry, whose rapturous sweetness filled space with melody; and, like the up- springing lark, borne aloft by the beauty of their song, they vanished; and those about me bowed their heads, and ceased their moan for a moment. "What is it?" I cried. "Who is the man? What was it he held in his hand?" But there was none to answer me, and I drove along before the wind with the rest, helpless, bewildered. How long this lasted I do not know; for there was neither night nor day in the sad place; and a fire of longing burnt in my breast, so keen, so strong, that all other sensation was swallowed up. And then, too, my grief! There were many deeds of my life to which I had given but casual regret. When the minister would counsel us to confess our sins to God, I had knelt in the church and gone through the form; but here, where the height and depth and breadth of God's perfection dawned upon me, and grew hourly clearer, they seemed to rend my heart, and to far outweigh any little good I might have done. Oh! why did no one ever preach the justice of God to me, and the necessity of personal atonement! Why had they only taught me, "Believe, and you shall be saved?" Time by time, the shapes about me rose and vanished with the same cry as the two I saw liberated in my first hour; and sometimes--like an echo--the sound of human voices would go through space--some choked with tears, some low with sadness, some glad with hope. "Eternal rest grant to them, O Lord!" "And let perpetual light shine upon them!" "May they rest in peace!" And the "Amen" tolled like a silver bell, and I would feel a respite. But no one called me by name, no one prayed for my freedom. My mother's voice, my sister's dream, my father's belief--all were that I was happy before the face of God. And friends forgot me, except in their pleasures. At seasons, through the mist would loom an altar, at which a man, in black robes embroidered with silver, bowed and bent. The chalice, with its always wonderful contents, would be raised, and a disc, in whose circle of whiteness I saw Christ crucified. From the thorn-wounds, the Hands, the Feet, the Side, shot rays of dazzling brightness; and my frozen soul, my tear-chilled eyes, were warmed and gladdened; for the man who held this wondrous image would himself sigh: "For _all_ the dead, sweet Lord!" And to me, even me, would come hope and peace. But, oh! the agony, oh! the desolateness, to be cut off from the sweet guerdon of immediate release! Oh! the pain of expiating every fault, measure for measure! Oh, the grief of knowing that my own deeds were the chains of my captivity, and my unfulfilled duties the barriers that withheld me from beholding the Beatific Vision! Sometimes a gracious face would gleam through the mist--a face so tender, so human, so full of love, that I yearned to hear it speak to _me_, to have those radiant eyes turned on _me_. My companions called her "Mary!" and I knew it was the Virgin of Nazareth. Often she would call them by name, and say: "My child, my Son bids thee come home." Why had I never known this gentle Mother! Why could I not catch her mantle, and clinging to it, pass from waiting to fulfilment! Once when I had grown grief-bowed with waiting, worn with longing, I saw again the vision of the Church. At a long railing knelt many young girls, and they received at the hands of the priest what I had learned to discern as the Body of the Lord. One--God bless her tender heart!-- whispered as she knelt: "O dearest Lord, I offer to Thee this Holy Communion for the soul _that has no one to pray for her_." And through the grayness rang at last _my_ name, and straight to heaven I went, ransomed by that mighty price, freed by prayer from prison. O you who live, who have voices and hearts, for the sake of Christ and His Holy Mother; by the love you bear your living, and the grief you give your dead, pray for those whose friends do not know how to help them; for the suddenly killed; for the executed criminal; and for those who, having suffered long in Purgatory, need one more prayer to set them free.--_Ave Maria_, November 10, 1883. THE STORY OF THE FAITHFUL SOUL. _Founded on an old French Legend_. ADELAIDE ANNE PROCTER. The fettered spirits linger In purgatorial pain, With penal fires effacing Their last faint earthly stain, Which Life's imperfect sorrow Had tried to cleanse in vain. Yet, on each feast of Mary Their sorrow finds release, For the great Archangel Michael Comes down and bids it cease; And the name of these brief respites Is called "Our Lady's Peace." Yet once--so runs the legend-- When the Archangel came, And all these holy spirits Rejoiced at Mary's name, One voice alone was wailing, Still wailing on the same. And though a great Te Deum The happy echoes woke, I This one discordant wailing Through the sweet voices broke: So when St. Michael questioned, Thus the poor spirit spoke:-- I am not cold or thankless, Although I still complain; I prize Our Lady's blessing, Although it comes in vain To still my bitter anguish, Or quench my ceaseless pain. "On earth a heart that loved me Still lives and mourns me there, And the shadow of his anguish Is more than I can bear; All the torment that I suffer Is the thought of his despair. "The evening of my bridal Death took my Life away; Not all Love's passionate pleading Could gain an hour's delay. And he I left has suffered A whole year since that day. "If I could only see him-- If I could only go And speak one word of comfort And solace--then, I know He would endure with patience, And strive against his woe." Thus the Archangel answered: "Your time of pain is brief, And soon the peace of Heaven Will give you full relief; Yet if his earthly comfort So much outweighs your grief, "Then, through a special mercy, I offer you this grace-- You may seek him who mourns you And look upon his face, And speak to him of Comfort, For one short minute's space. "But when that time is ended, Return here and remain A thousand years in torment, A thousand years in pain; Thus dearly must you purchase The comfort he will gain." The lime-trees shade at evening Is spreading broad and wide; Beneath their fragrant arches Pace slowly, side by side, In low and tender converse, A Bridegroom and his Bride. The night is calm and stilly, No other sound is there Except their happy voices:-- What is that cold bleak air That passes through the lime-trees, And stirs the Bridegroom's hair? While one low cry of anguish, Like the last dying wail Of some dumb, hunted creature, Is borne upon the gale-- Why dogs the Bridegroom shudder And turn so deathly pale? Near Purgatory's entrance The radiant Angels wait; It was the great St. Michael Who closed that gloomy gate, When the poor wandering spirit Came back to meet her fate. "Pass on," thus spoke the Angel: "Heaven's joy is deep and vast; Pass on, pass on, poor spirit, For Heaven is yours at last; In that one minute's anguish, Your thousand years have passed." GENÉRADE, THE FRIEND OF ST. AUGUSTINE. J. COLLIN DE PLANCY. ST. AUGUSTINE reckoned among his friends the physician Genérade, highly honored in Carthage, where his learning and skill were much esteemed. But by one of those misfortunes of which there are, unhappily, but too many examples, while studying the admirable mechanism of the human body, he had come to believe matter capable of the works of intelligence which raise man so far above other created beings. He was, therefore, a materialist; and St. Augustine praying for him, earnestly besought God to enlighten that deluded mind. One night while he slept, this doctor, who believed, as some do still, that "when one is dead, all is dead"--we quote their own language--saw in his dreams a young man, who said to him: "Follow me." He did so, and was conducted to a city, wherein he heard, on the right, unknown melodies, which filled him with admiration. What he heard on the left he never remembered. But on awaking he concluded, from this vision, that there was, somewhere, something else besides this world. Another night he likewise beheld in sleep the same young man, who said to him: "Knowest thou me?" "Very well," answered Genérade. "And wherefore knowest thou me?" "Because of the journey we made together when you showed me the city of harmony." "Was it in a dream, or awake, that you saw and heard what struck you then?" "It was in a dream." "Where is your body now?" "In my bed." "Knowest thou well that thou now seest nothing with the eyes of the body?" "I know it." "With what eyes, then, dost thou see me?" As the physician hesitated, and could not answer, the young man said to him: "Even as thou seest and hearest me, now that thine eyes are closed and thy senses benumbed, so, after thy death, thou shalt live, thou shalt see, thou shalt hear--but with the organs of the soul. Doubt, then, no more!" ST. THOMAS AQUINAS AND FRIAR ROMANUS. WE are about to treat of facts concerning which our fathers never had any hesitation, because they had faith. Nowadays, the truths which are above the material sight have been so roughly handled that they are much diminished for us. And if the goodness of God had not allowed some rays of the mysteries which He reserves for Himself to escape, if some gleams of magnetism and the world of spirits occupying the air around us had not a little embarrassed those of our literati who make a merit of not believing, we would hardly dare, in spite of the grave authorities on which they rest, to represent here some apparitions of souls departed from this world. We shall venture to do so, nevertheless. One day, when St. Thomas Aquinas was praying in the Church of the Friars, Preachers, at Naples, the pious friar Romanus, whom he had left in Paris, where he replaced him in the chair of Theology, suddenly appeared beside him. Thomas, seeing him, said: "I am glad of thine arrival. But how long hast thou been here?" Romanus answered: "I am now out of this world. Nevertheless, I am permitted to come to thee, because of thy merit." The Saint, alarmed at this reply, after a moment's recollection, said to the apparition: "I adjure thee, by Our Lord Jesus Christ, tell me simply if my works are pleasing to God!" Romanus replied: "Persevere in the way in which thou art, and believe that what thou doest is agreeable unto God." Thomas then asked him in what state he found himself. "I enjoy eternal life," answered Romanus. "Nevertheless, for having carelessly executed one clause of a will which the Bishop of Paris gave me in charge, I underwent for fifteen days the pains of Purgatory." St. Thomas again said: "You remind me that we often discussed the question whether the knowledge acquired in this life remain in the soul after death. I pray you give me the solution thereof." Romanus made answer: "Ask me not that. As for me, I am content with seeing my God." "Seest thou him face to face?" went on Thomas. "Just as we have been taught," replied Romanus, "and as I see thee." With these words he left St. Thomas greatly consoled. THE KEY THAT NEVER TURNS. ELEANOR C. DONNELLY. "In Purgatory, dear," I said to-day, Unto my pet, "the fire burns and burns, Until each ugly stain is burned away--And then an Angel turns A great, bright key, and forth the glad soul springs Into the presence of the King of kings." "But in that other prison?" "Sweetest love! The same fierce fire burns and burns, but thence None e'er escapes." The blue eyes, raised above, Were fair with innocence. "Poor burning souls!" she whispered low, "ah me! No Angel ever comes to turn _their_ key!" THE BURIAL. THOMAS DAVIS. "ULULU! ululu! wail for the dead, Green grow the grass of Fingal on his head; And spring-flowers blossom, ere elsewhere appearing, And shamrocks grow thick on the martyr for Erin. Ululu! ululu! soft fall the dew On the feet and the head of the martyred and true." For a while they tread In silence dread-- Then muttering and moaning go the crowd, Surging and swaying like mountain cloud, And again the wail comes wild and loud. "Ululu! ululu! kind was his heart! Walk slower, walk slower, too soon we shall part. The faithful and pious, the Priest of the Lord, His pilgrimage over, he has his reward. "By the bed of the sick, lowly kneeling, To God with the raised cross appealing-- He seems still to kneel, and he seems still to pray, And the sins of the dying seem passing away. "In the prisoner's cell, and the cabin so dreary, Our constant consoler, he never grew weary; But he's gone to his rest, And he's now with the blest, Where tyrant and traitor no longer molest-- Ululu! ululu! wail for the dead! Ululu! ululu! here is his bed." Short was the ritual, simple the prayer, Deep was the silence, and every head bare; The Priest alone standing, they knelt all around, Myriads on myriads, like rocks on the ground. Kneeling and motionless.-- "Dust unto dust." "He died as becometh the faithful and just-- Placing in God his reliance and trust;" Kneeling and motionless-- "Ashes to ashes"-- Hollow the clay on the coffin-lid dashes; Kneeling and motionless, wildly they pray, But they pray in their souls, for no gesture have they-- Stern and standing--oh! look on them now! Like trees to one tempest the multitude bow. HYMN FOR THE DEAD. NEWMAN. Help, Lord, the souls which Thou hast made, The souls to Thee so dear, In prison, for the debt unpaid Of sins committed here. Those holy souls, they suffer on, Resign'd in heart and will, Until Thy high behest is done, And justice has its fill. For daily falls, for pardon'd crime, They joy to undergo The shadow of Thy cross sublime, The remnant of Thy woe. Help, Lord, the souls which Thou hast made, The souls to Thee so dear, In prison, for the debt unpaid Of sins committed here. Oh! by their patience of delay, Their hope amid their pain, Their sacred zeal to burn away Disfigurement and stain; Oh! by their fire of love, not less In keenness than the flame, Oh! by their very helplessness, Oh! by Thy own great Name, Good Jesu, help! sweet Jesu, aid The souls to Thee most dear, In prison, for the debt unpaid Of sins committed here. THE TWO STUDENTS. The Abbé de Saint Pierre, says Collin de Plancy, has given a long account, in his works, of a singular occurrence which took place in 1697, and which we are inclined to relate here: In 1695, a student named Bezuel, then about fifteen years old, contracted a friendship with two other youths, students like himself, and sons of an attorney of Caen, named D'Abaquène. The elder was, like Bezuel, fifteen; his brother, eighteen months younger. The latter was named Desfontaines. The paternal name was then given only to the eldest; the names of those who came after were formed by means of some vague properties.... As the young Desfontaines' character was more in unison with Bezuel's than that of his elder brother, these two students became strongly attached to each other. One day during the following year, 1696, they were reading together a certain history of two friends like themselves, who had promised each other, with some solemnity, that he of the two who died first would come back to give the survivor some account of his state. The historian added that the dead one really did come back, and that he told his friend many wonderful things. Young Desfontaines, struck by this narrative, which he did not doubt, proposed to Bezuel that they should make such a promise one to the other. Bezuel was at first afraid of such an engagement. But several months after, in the first days of June, 1697, as his friend was going to set out for Caen, he agreed to his proposal. Desfontaines then drew from his pocket two papers in which he had written the double agreement. Each of these papers expressed the formal promise on the part of him who should die first to come and make his fate known to the surviving friend. He had signed with his blood the one that Bezuel was to keep. Bezuel, hesitating no longer, pricked his hand, and likewise signed with his blood the other document, which he gave to Desfontaines. The latter, delighted to have the promise, set out with his brother. Bezuel received some days after a letter, in which his friend informed him that he had reached his home in safety, and was very well. The correspondence between them was to continue. But it stopped very soon, and Bezuel was uneasy. It happened that on the 31st of July, 1697, being about 2 o'clock in the afternoon, in a meadow where his companions were amusing themselves with various games, he felt himself suddenly stunned and taken with a sort of faintness, which lasted for some minutes. Next day, at the same hour, he felt the same symptoms, and again on the day after. But then-- it was Friday, the 2d of August--he saw advancing towards him his friend Desfontaines, who made a sign for him to come to him. Being in a sitting posture and under the influence of his swoon, he made another sign to the apparition, moving on his seat to make place for him. The comrades of Bezuel moving around saw this motion, and were surprised. As Desfontaines did not advance, Bezuel arose to go to him. The apparition then took him by the left arm, drew him aside some thirty paces, and said: "I promised you that, if I died before you, I would come to tell you. I was drowned yesterday in the river at Caen, about this hour. I was out walking; it was so warm that we took a notion to bathe. A weakness came over me in the river, and I sank to the bottom. The Abbé de Menil-Jean, my companion, plunged in to draw me out; I seized his foot; but whether he thought it was a salmon that had caught hold of him, or that he felt it actually necessary to go up to the surface of the water to breathe, he shook me off so roughly that his foot gave me a great blow in the chest, and threw me to the bottom of the river, which is there very deep." Desfontaines then told his friend many other things, which he would not divulge, whether the dead boy had prayed him not to do so, or for other reasons. Bezuel wanted to embrace the apparition, but he found only a shadow. Nevertheless, the shadow had squeezed his arm so tightly, that it pained him after. He saw the spirit several times, yet always a little taller than when they parted, and always in the half-clothing of a bather. He wore in his fair hair a scroll on which Bezuel could only read the word _In_. His voice had the same sound as when he was living, he appeared neither gay nor sad, but perfectly tranquil. He charged his friend with several commissions for his parents, and begged him to say for him the Seven Penitential Psalms, which had been given him as a penance by his confessor, three days before his death, and which he had not yet recited. The apparition always ended by a farewell expressed in words which signified: "Till we meet again! (_Au revoir!_)" At last, it ceased at the end of some weeks; and the surviving friend, who had constantly prayed for the dead, concluded from this that his Purgatory was over. This Monsieur Bezuel finished his studies, embraced the ecclesiastical state, became _curé_ of Valogne, and lived long, esteemed by his parishioners and the whole city, for his good sense, his virtuous life, and his love of truth. THE PENANCE OF DON DIEGO RIEZ. _A Legend of Lough Derg._ [1] [Footnote 1: Lough Derg, in Donegal, was a place famous for pilgrimage from a very early period, and was much resorted to out of France, Italy, and the Peninsula, during the Middle Ages, and even in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. In Mathew Paris, and Froissart, as well as in our native annals, and in O'Sullivan Beare, there are many facts of its extraordinary history.] T. D. MCGEE. There was a knight of Spain--Diego Riaz, Noble by four descents, vain, rich and young, Much woe he wrought, or the tradition lie is, Which lived of old the Castilians among; His horses bore the palm the kingdom over, His plume was tall, costliest his sword, The proudest maidens wished him as a lover, The _caballeros_ all revered his word But ere his day's meridian came, his spirit Fell sick, grew palsied in his breast, and pined-- He fear'd Christ's kingdom he could ne'er inherit, The causes wherefore too well he divined. Where'er he turns, his sins are always near him, Conscience still holds her mirror to his eyes, Till those who long had envied came to fear him, To mock his clouded brow and wintry sighs. Alas! the sins of youth are as a chain Of iron, swiftly let down to the deep, How far we feel not--till when, we'd raise't again We pause amid the weary work and weep. Ah, it is sad a-down Life's stream to see. So many agèd toilers so distress'd, And near the source--a thousand forms of glee Fitting the shackle to Youth's glowing breast. He sought peace in the city where she dwells not, He wooed her amid woodlands all in vain, He searches through the valleys, but he tells not The secret of his quest to priest or swain, Until, despairing evermore of pleasure, He leaves his land, and sails to far Peru; There, stands uncharm'd in caverns of treasure, And weeps on mountains heavenly high and blue. Incessant in his ears rang this plain warning-- "Diego, as thy soul, thy sorrow lives"; He hears the untired voice, night, noon, and morning, Yet understanding not, unresting grieves. One eve, a purer vision seized him, then he Vow'd to Lough Derg, an humble pilgrimage-- The virtues of that shrine were known to many, And saving held even in that skeptic age. With one sole follower, an Esquire trustful, He pass'd the southern cape which sailors fear, And eastward held: meanwhile his vain and lustful Past works more loathsome to his soul appear. Through the night-watches, at all hours o' day, He still was wakeful as the pilot, and For grace, his vow to keep, doth always pray, And for his death to lie in the saints' land. But ere his eyes beheld the Irish shore, Diego died. Much gold he did ordain To God and Santiago--furthermore, His Esquire plighted, ere he went to Spain, To journey to the Refuge of the Lake; Before St. Patrick's solitary shrine, A nine days' vigil for his rest to make, Living on bitter bread and penitential wine. [1] [Footnote 1: The brackish water of the lake, boiled, is called wine by the pilgrims.] The vassal vow'd; but, ah! how seldom pledges Given to the dying, to the dead, are held! The Esquire reach'd the shore, where sand and sedge is O'er melancholy hills, by paths of eld; Treeless and houseless was the prospect round, Rock-strewn and boisterous the lake before; A Charon-shape in a skiff a-ground-- The pilgrim turned, and left the sacred shore. That night he lay a-bed hard by the Erne-- The island-spangled lake--but could not sleep-- When lo! beside him, pale, and sad, and stern, Stood his dead master, risen from the deep. "Arise," he said, "and come." From the hostelrie And over the bleak hills he led the sleeper, And when they reach'd Derg's shore, "Get in with me," He cried; "nor sink my soul in torments deeper." The dead man row'd the boat, the living steer'd, Each in his pallor sinister, until The Isle of Pilgrimage they duly near'd-- "Now hie thee forth, and work thy master's will!" So spoke the dead, and vanish'd o'er the lake, The Squire pursued his course, and gain'd the shrine, There, nine days' vigil duly he did make, Living on bitter bread and penitential wine. The tenth eve shone in solemn, starry beauty, As he, rejoicing, o'er the old paths came, Light was his heart from its accomplished duty, All was forgotten, even the latest shame-- When these brief words some disembodied voice Spoke near him: "Oh, keep sacred, evermore, Word, pledge, and vow, so may you still rejoice, And live among the Just when Time is o'er!" THE DAY OF ALL SOULS. ELIZA ALLEN STARR. FROM the far past there comes a thought of sweetness, From the far past a thought of love and pain; A voice, how dear! a look of melting kindness, A voice, a look, we ne'er shall know again. A fresh, young face, perchance of boyish gladness, An aged face, perchance of patient love; My heart-strings fail, I sob in utter anguish, As past my eyes these lovely spectres move. The chill morn breaks, the matin star still flaming; The hushed cathedral's massive door stands wide; Through the dim aisles I pass, in silent weeping, From mortal eyes my sorrowing tears to hide. Already morn has touched the painted windows; The yellow dawn creeps down the storied panes; Already, in the early solemn twilight, The sanctuary's taper softly wanes. My faltering step before the altar pauses; My treasur'd dead I see remembered here; All climes, all nations, lost on land or ocean, They on whose grave none ever drop a tear. The Church, their single mourner, drapes in sorrow The festal shrines she loves with flowers to dress; And "Kyrie! Kyrie!" sighs, while lowly bending To Thee, O God! to shorten their distress. "_Dies iræ, dies illa,_" sobs the choir; "_In pace, pace,_" from the altar rises higher; "_Lux æterna;_" daylight floods the altar, Priest and choir take up the holy psalter. "_Requiescant in pace!" Amen, amen, in pace!_ THE MESSAGE OF THE NOVEMBER WIND. BY ELEANOR C. DONNELLY. I. Wrapped in lonely shadows late, (Bleak November's midnight gloom), As I kneel beside the grate In the silent sitting-room: Down the chimney moans the wind, Like the voice of souls resigned, Pleading from their prison thus, "Pray for us! pray for us! Gentle Christian, watcher kind, Pray for us, oh! pray for us!" II. Melt mine eyes with sudden tears-- Old familiar tones are there; Dear ones lost in other years, Breathing Purgatory's prayer. Through my fingers pass the beads, Tender heart, responsive bleeds, As the wind, all tremulous, "Pray for us! pray for us!" Seems to murmur "Love our needs-- Pray for us! oh, pray for us!" A LEGEND OF THE TIME OF CHARLEMAGNE. We read in the _Gesta Caroli Magni_ that Charlemagne had a man-at- arms who served him faithfully till his death. Before breathing his last he called a nephew of his, to make known to him his last will: "Sixty years," said he, "have I been in the service of my prince; I have never amassed the goods of this world, and my arms and my horse are all I have. My arms I leave to thee, and I will that my horse be sold immediately after my death; I charge thee with the care of this matter, if thou wilt promise me to distribute the full price amongst the poor." The nephew promised to execute the will of his uncle, who died in peace, for he was a good and loyal Christian. But when he was laid in the earth the young man, considering that the horse was a very fine one, and well-trained, was tempted to keep him for himself. He did not sell him, and gave no money to the poor. Six months after, the soul of the dead man appeared to him and said: "Thou hast not accomplished that which I had ordered thee to do for the welfare of my soul, and for six months I have suffered great pains in Purgatory. But behold God, the strict Judge of all things, has decreed, and His angels will execute the decree, that my soul be placed in eternal rest, and that thine shall undergo all the pains and torments which I had still to undergo for the expiation of my sins." Thereupon the nephew, being instantly seized with a violent disease, had barely time to confess to a priest, who had just been announced. He died shortly after, and went to pay the debt he had undertaken to discharge. THE DEAD MASS. It has been, and still is believed, that the mercy of God sometimes permits souls that have sins to expiate, to come and expiate them on earth. Of this the following is an example: Polet, the principal suburb of Dieppe, is still inhabited almost exclusively by fishermen, who, in past times, more especially, have ever been solid and faithful Christians. The Catholic worship was formerly celebrated with much solemnity in their church, consecrated under the invocation of "Our Lady of the Beach" (Notre Dame des Grèves); and the mothers of the worthy fishermen who give to Polet an aspect so picturesque, have forgotten only the precise date of the adventure we are about to relate. The sacristan of Notre Dame des Grèves dwelt in a little cottage quite close to the church. He was an exact and pious man; he had the keys of the sacred edifice and the care of the bells. Several worthy priests were attached to the lovely church; the earliest Masses were never rung except by the honest sacristan. Now, one morning, during the Christmas holydays, he heard, before day, the tinkle of one of his bells announcing a Mass. He rose immediately and ran to the window. The snow- covered roofs enabled him to see objects so distinctly that he thought the day was beginning to dawn. He hastened to put on his clothes and go to the church. The total solitude and silence reigning all around him made him understand that he was mistaken and that day was not yet breaking. He tried to go into the church, however, but the door was closed. How, then, could he have heard the bell? If robbers had got in, they would certainly have taken good care not to touch the bell. He listens; not the slightest noise in the holy place. Should he return home? Not so, for having heard the bell, he must go in. He opens a little door leading into the sacristy; he passes through that, and advances towards the choir. By the light of the small lamp burning before the tabernacle and that of a taper already lighted, he perceives, at the foot of the altar, a priest robed in a chasuble, and in the attitude of a celebrant about to commence Mass. All is prepared for the Holy Sacrifice. He stops in dismay. The priest, a stranger to him, is extremely pale; his hands are as white as his alb; his eyes shine like the glow-worm, the light going forth, as it were, from the very centre of the orbits. "Serve my Mass," he said gently to the sacristan. The latter obeyed, spell-bound with terror. But if the pallor of the priest and the singular fire of his eyes frightened him, his voice, on the contrary, was mild and melancholy. The Mass goes on. At the elevation of the Sacred Host the limbs of the priest tremble and give forth a sound like that of dry reeds shaken by the wind. At the _Domine, non sum dignus_, his breast, which he strikes three times, sounds like the coffin when the first shovel-full of earth is cast upon it by the grave-digger. The Precious Blood produces in his whole body the effect of water which, in the silence of the night, falls drop by drop from the roof. When he turns to say _Ita Missa est_, the priest is only a skeleton, and that skeleton speaks these words to the server: "Brother, I thank thee! In my life-time, I was a priest; I owed this Mass at my death. Thou hast helped me to discharge my debt; my soul is freed from a heavy burden." The spectre then disappeared. The sacristan saw the vestments fall gently at the foot of the altar, and the burning taper suddenly went out. At that moment, a cock crowed somewhere in the neighborhood. The sacristan took up the vestments, and passed the rest of the night in prayer. THE EVE OF ST. JOHN. SIR WALTER SCOTT. "O fear not the priest who sleepeth to the east! For to Dryburgh the way he has ta'en; And there to say Mass, till three days do pass, For the soul of a Knight that is slayne." He turned him round, and grimly he frowned; Then he laughed right scornfully-- "He who says the Mass-rite for the soul of that Knight, May as well say Mass for me." Then changed, I trow, was that bold baron's brow, From dark to the blood-red high; "Now tell me the mien of the Knight thou hast seen, For by Mary he shall die." "O hear but my word, my noble lord, For I heard her name his name, And that lady bright, she called the Knight Sir Richard of Coldinghame." The bold baron's brow then chang'd, I trow, From high blood-red to pale-- "The grave is deep and dark--and the corpse is stiff and stark-- So I may not trust thy tale. "The varying light deceived thy sight, And the wild winds drown'd the name, For the Dryburgh bells ring, and the white monks do sing, For Sir Richard of Coldinghame." It was near the ringing of matin-bell, The night was well-nigh done, When the lady looked through the chamber fair, On the eve of good St. John. The lady looked through the chamber fair, By the light of a dying flame; And she was aware of a knight stood there-- Sir Richard of Coldinghame. "By Eildon-tree for long nights three, In bloody grave have I lain, The Mass and the death-prayer are said for me, But, lady, they are said in vain. "By the baron's hand, near Tweed's fair stand, Most foully slain I fell; And my restless sprite on the beacon's height, For a space is doom'd to dwell." He laid his left palm on an oaken beam, His right upon her hand; The lady shrunk, and fainting sunk, For it scorched like a fiery brand. THE BEQUEST OF A SOUL, IN PURGATORY. [From "A Collection of Spiritual Hymns and Songs on Various Religious Subjects," published by Chalmers & Co., of Aberdeen, Scotland, in 1802. Its quaint and touching simplicity, redolent of old-time faith, will commend it to the reader] From lake where water does not go, A prisoner of hope below, To mortal ones I push my groans, In hopes they'll pity me. O mortals that still live above, Your faith, hope, prayers, and alms, and love, Still merit place With God's sweet grace; O faithful, pity me. My fervent groans don't merit here, Strict justice only doth appear, My smallest faults, And needless talks Heap chains and flames on me. Though mortal guilt doth not remain, I still am due the temp'ral pain, I did delay To satisfy, Past coldness scorcheth me. Tepidity and good works done With imperfections mixt, here come; All these neglects And least defects,-- Great anguish bring on me. Though my defects here be not spared, Yet endless glory for me's prepared, I love in flames, And hope in chains; O friends, then, pity me! My God, my Father, is most dear, For me your sighs and prayers He'll hear; Though just laws scourge, His mercies urge, That you would pity me. Through pains and flames I'll come to Him, They purge me both from stain and sin; When I'm set free, Their friends I'll be Who now do pity me. The smallest thing that could defile Keeps me from bliss in this exile. God loves to see That you me free; For His love pity me! For me who alms give, fast, or pray, Great store of grace will come their way; Try this good thought-- Great help is brought, And souls from sin set free. If you for me now do not pray, The utmost farthing I must pay; The time is hid That I'll be rid, Unless you pity me. In mortal sin who yields his breath, Pray not for him behind his death. All mortal crime I quit in time; O faithful, pity me! For me good works may be practised, Thus some were for the dead baptized. Suet pains endure For me, and sure You'll help and pity me! For his good friend, as Scriptures say, Onesiphorus, Paul did pray, [1] His words, you see, Urge, then, for me; And thus you'll pity me. [Footnote 1: II. Tim., i. 16, 18.] This third place clear in writ you spy, Where all your works the fire will try, From death game rose, Sure then all those From third place were set free. In hell there's no redemption found; God ne'er degrades whom He once crowned--These judgments both Confirmed by oath And absolute decree. For all the Saints prayer should be made, Who stand in need, alive or dead. I stand in need That you with speed Should help and pity me. In presence of our sweetest Lord, For dead they, prayed, as all accord. Christ did not blame What I now claim; Oh! haste and pity me! To a third place Christ's soul did go. And preached to spirits there below; This in the Creed And Writ you read, That you may pity me. When Christ on earth would stay no more, These captives freed He brought to glore; There I will be, And soon set free, If you would pity me. Mind, then, Communion of the Saints; All should supply each other's wants: In pains and chains, And scorching flames, I languish; pity me! Eternal rest, eternal glore, Eternal light, eternal store, To them accord, O sweetest Lord! There's mercy still with Thee! Let mercy stay Thy just revenge, Their scorching flames to glory change; The precious flood Of Thine own blood For them we offer Thee! ALL SOULS. BY MARION MUIR. FOR all the cold and silent clay That once, alive with youth and hope, Rushed proudly to the western slope- O brothers, pray! For all who saw the orient day Rise on the plain, the camp, the flood, The sudden discord drowned in blood- O brothers, pray! For all the lives that ebbed away In darkness down the gulf of tears; For all the gray departed years- O brothers, pray! For all the souls that went astray In deserts hung with double gloom; For all the dead without a tomb- O brothers, pray! For we have household peace; but they Who led the way, and held the land, Are homeless as the heaving sand- Oh! let us pray! THE DEAD. (From the French of Octave Cremacie.) ANNA T. SADLIER. O dead, ye sleep within your tranquil graves; No more ye bear the burden that enslaves Us in this world of ours. For you outshine no stars, no storms rave loud, No buds has spring, the horizon no cloud, The sun marks not the hours. The while, with anxious thought oppress'd, we go, Each weary day but bringing deeper woe, Silently and alone Ye list the sanctuary chant arise, That downwards first to you, remounts the skies, Sweet pity's monotone. The vain delights whereto our souls incline, Are naught beside the prayer to love divine, Alms-giving of the heart, Which reaching to you warms your chilly dust And brings your name enshrined a sacred trust, Swift to the throne of God! Alas! love's warmest memory will fade Within the heart, ere yet the mourning shade Has ceased to mark the garb. Forgetfulness, our meed to you, outweighs The leaded coffin as it dully lays Upon your lifeless bones. Our selfish hearts but to the present look, And see in you the pages of a book Now laid aside long read. For loving in our fev'rish joy or pain But those who serve our hate, pride, love of gain, No more can serve the dead. To cold ambition or to joy's sweet store, Ye dusty corpses minister no more, We give to you neglect. Nor reck we of that suff'ring world's pale bourne Where you beyond the bridgeless barrier mourn O'erpast the wall of death. 'Tis said that when our coldness grieves you sore, Ye quit betimes that solitude's cold shore Where ye forsaken dwell, And flit about in darkness' sad constraint, The while from spectral lips your mournful plaint Upon the winds outswell. When nightingales their woodland nests have left, The autumn sky of gray, white-capped, cloud-reft, Prepares the shroud which Winter soon shall spread On frozen fields; there comes a day thrice blest, When earth forgetting, all our musings rest On those who are no more the dreamless dead. The dead their graves forsake upon this day, As we have seen doves mount with joyous grace, Escape an instant from their prison drear, Their coming brings us no repellent fear. Their mien is dreamy, passing sweet their face, Their fixed and hollow eyes cannot betray. When spectral coming thus unseen they gaze On crowds who, kneeling in the temple, pray Forgiveness for them, one faint, joyful ray, As light upon the opal, glittering plays, On faces pale and calm an instant rests, And brings a moment's warmth to clay-cold breasts. They, the elect of God, with souls of saints, Who bear each destined load without complaints, Who walk all day beneath God's watching eye, And sleep the night 'neath angels' ministry, Nor made the sport of visions that arise To show th' abyss of fire to dreaming eyes. All they who while on earth, the pure of heart, The heav'nly echoes hear, and who in part Make smooth for man rude ways he has to tread, And knowing earthly vanity, outspread Their virtue like a carpet rich and rare, And walk o'er evil, touching it nowhere. When come sad guests from off that suff'ring shore, Which Dante saw in dream sublime of yore, Appearing midst us here that day most blessed, 'Tis but to those; for they alone have guessed The secrets of the grave; alone they understand The pallid mendicants, who ask for heav'n. Of Israel's King the psalms, inspired cries, With Job's sublime distress, commingled rise; The sanctuary sobs them through the naves While wak'ning subtle fear, the bell's deep toll With fun'ral sounds, demanding pity's dole For wand'ring ghosts, as countless as the waves. Give on this day, when over all the earth The Church to God makes moan for parted worth; Your own remorse, regret at least to calm Awak'ning memory's dying flame, give balm, Flow'rs for their graves, and prayer for each loved soul, Those gifts divine can yet the dead console. Pray for your friends, and for your mother pray, Who made less drear for you life's desert way, For all the portions of your heart that lie Shut in the tomb, alas, each youthful tie Is lost within the coffin's close constraint, Where, prey of worms, the dead send up their plaint For exiles far from home and native land, Who dying hear no voice, nor touch no hand In life alone, more lonely still in death. With none for their repose, to breathe one prayer, Cast alms of tears upon an alien grave, Or heed the stranger lonely even there; For those whose wounded souls when here below, But anxious thought and bitter fancies know, With days all joyless, nights of dull unrest; For those who in night's calm find all so blest And meet, in place of hope with morning beams, A horrid wak'ning to their golden dreams; For all the pariahs of human kind Who, heavy burdens bearing, find How high the steeps of human woe they scale. Oh, let your heart some off'ring make to these, One pious thought, one holy word of peace, Which shall twixt them and God swift rend the veil. The tribute bring of prayers and holy tears, That when your hour draws nigh of nameless fears, When reached their term shall be your numbered days, Your name made known above with grateful praise, By those whose suff'rings it was yours to end, Arriving there find welcome as a friend! Your loving tribute, white-winged angels take, Ere bearing it unto eternal spheres, An instant lay it on the grass-grown graves, While dying flow'rs in church-yards raise each head To life, refreshed by breath of prayer, awake And shed their fragrance on the sleeping dead. A REQUIEM. SIR WALTER SCOTT. No sound was made, no word was spoke, Till noble Angus silence broke; And he a solemn sacred plight Did to St. Bryde of Douglas make, That he a pilgrimage would take To Melrose Abbey, for the sake Of Michael's restless sprite. Then each, to ease his troubled breast, To some blessed saint his prayers addressed- Some to St. Modan made their vows, Some to St. Mary of the Lowes, Some to the Holy Rood of Lisle, Some to our Lady of the Isle; Each did his patron witness make, That he such pilgrimage would take, And monks should sing, and bells should toll, All for the weal of Michael's soul, While vows were ta'en, and prayers were prayed. Most meet it were to mark the day Of penitence and prayer divine, When pilgrim-chiefs, in sad array, Sought Melrose, holy shrine. With naked foot, and sackcloth vest, And arms enfolded on his breast, Did every pilgrim go; The standers-by might hear aneath, Footstep, or voice, or high-drawn breath. Through all the lengthened row; No lordly look, no martial stride, Gone was their glory, sunk their pride, Forgotten their renown; Silent and slow, like ghosts, they glide, To the high altar's hallowed side, And there they kneeled them down; Above the suppliant chieftains wave The banners of departed brave; Beneath the lettered stones were laid The ashes of their fathers dead; From many a garnished niche around, Stern saint and tortured martyr frowned, And slow up the dim aisle afar, With sable cowl and scapular, And snow-white stoles, in order due, The holy Fathers, two and two, In long procession came; Taper, and host, and book they bare, And holy banner, flourished fair With the Redeemer's name; Above the prostrate pilgrim band The mitred Abbot stretched his hand, And blessed them as they kneeled; With holy cross he signed them all, And prayed they might be sage in hall, And fortunate in field. The Mass was sung, and prayers were said, And solemn requiem for the dead; And bells tolled out their mighty peal, For the departed spirit's weal; And ever in the office close The hymn of intercession rose; And far the echoing aisles prolong The awful burthen of the song-- _Dies Irae, Dies Illa, Salvet SÆlum in Favilla;_ While the pealing organ rung, Thus the holy father sung: HYMN FOR THE DEAD. The day of wrath, that dreadful day, When heaven and earth shall pass away, What power shall be the sinner's stay? How shall he meet that dreadful day? When, shrivelling like a parched scroll, The flaming heavens together roll; While louder yet, and yet more dread, Swells the high trump that wakes the dead; O! on that day, that wrathful day, When man to judgment wakes from clay, Be Thou the trembling sinner's stay, Though heaven and earth shall pass away. THE PENANCE OF ROBERT THE DEVIL. COLLIN DE PLANCY. In Normandy, the most sinister associations still remain connected with the name of Robert the Devil. By the people, who change historical details, but yet preserve the moral thereof, it is believed that Robert is undergoing his penance here below, on the theatre of his crimes, and that, after a thousand years, it is not yet ended. Messrs. Taylor and Charles Nodier have mentioned this tradition in their "Voyage Pittoresque de l'Ancienne France" ("Picturesque Journey through Old France"). "On the left shore of the Seine," say they, "not far from Moulineaux, are seen the colossal ruins, which are said to be the remains of the castle, or fortress, of Robert the Devil. Vague recollections, a ballad, some shepherd's tales--these are all the chronicles of those imposing ruins. Nevertheless, the fame of Robert the Devil's doings still survives in the country which he inhabited. His very name still excites that sentiment of fear which ordinarily results only from recent impressions. "In the vicinity of the castle of Robert the Devil every one knows his misdeeds, his violent conquests, and the rigor of his penance. The cries of his victims still reecho through the vaults, and come to terrify himself in his nocturnal wanderings, for Robert is condemned to visit the ruins and the dungeons of his castle. "Sometimes, if the old traditions of the country are to be believed, Robert has been seen, still clad in the loose tunic of a hermit, as on the day of his burial, wandering in the neighborhood of his castle, and visiting, barefoot and bareheaded, the little corner of the plain where the cemetery must have been. Sometimes, a shepherd straying through the adjoining copse in search of his flock, scattered by an evening storm, has been frightened by the fearful aspect of the phantom, seen by the glare of the lightning, flitting about amongst the graves. He has heard him, in the pauses of the tempest, imploring the pity of their mute inhabitants; and on the morrow he shunned the place in horror, because the earth, freshly turned up, had opened on every side to terrify the murderer." But there is another tradition which we cannot omit. A band of those Northmen who, during the troubled reign of Charles III. of France--without any sufficient reason called Charles the Simple--had invaded that part of Neustria where Robert the Devil was born; a group of these fierce warriors were one evening warming themselves around a fire of brambles, and, joyous in a country more genial than their own, they sang, to a wild melody, the great deeds of their princes, when they saw, leaning against the trunk of a tree, an old man poorly clad, and of a sad, yet resigned aspect. They called to him as he passed along before the fortress of Robert the Devil, then only half ruined. "Good man," said they, "sing us some song of this country." The old man, advancing slowly, chanted in an humble yet manly voice, the beautiful prose of St. Stephen. It told how the first of the martyrs paid homage till the end to Jesus Christ, Our Lord; and how, expiring under their blows, he besought Heaven to forgive his murderers. But this hymn displeased the rude band, who began brutally to insult the old man. The latter fell on one knee and uttered no complaint. At this moment appeared a young man, before whom all the soldiers rose to their feet. His lofty mien and his tone of authority indicated the son of a mighty lord. "You who insult a defenceless old man," said he, "your conduct is base and cowardly. Away with you! those who insult women or old men are unworthy to march with the brave. For you, good old man, come and share my meal. It is for the chief to repair the wrong-doings of those he commands." "Young man," said the stranger, "what you have just done is pleasing to God, who loveth justice; but it concerneth not me, who can bear no ill- will to any one." He then told his name; related the hideous story of his crimes, then his conversion through the prayers of his mother, and his penance, which was to last yet a long time. He showed how the grace of faith and of repentance had entered into his heart. "Exhausted with emotion," said he, "I sat down on a stone amid some ruins; I slept. Oh! blessed be my good angel for having sent me that sleep! Scarcely had I closed mine eyes when I had a vision. It seemed to me that the mountain on which rises the Castle of Moulinets darted up to heaven and formed a staircase. Up the steps went slowly a crowd of phantoms, in which I, alas! recognized my crimes. There were women and young maidens, whose death was my doing, hardworking vassals dishonored, old men driven from their dwellings, and forced to ask the bread of charity. I saw thus ascending not only men, but things, houses burned, crops destroyed, flocks, the hope and the care of a whole life of toil, sacrificed at a moment in some wild revel. "And I saw an angel rising rapidly. Then did my limbs quiver like the leaves of the aspen. I said to that ascending angel: "'Whither goest thou?' He answered: 'I bring thy crimes before the Lord, that they may bear testimony against thee.' "Then all my members became as it were burning grass. 'O good angel!' I cried, 'could I not at least efface some of these images?' He replied: 'All, if thou wilt.' 'And how?' 'Confess them; the breath of thy avowal will disperse them. Weep them in penance, and thy tears will efface even the traces thereof.'" The old man then told how he had made his confession, and what penance he did, wandering about in rags, without other food than that which he shared with the dogs. "I had known," he added, "all the pleasures of the earth, and had known some of its joys. But I found them still more in the miseries, the life-long fatigue, the hard humiliations of penance, because they were expiating my faults. Thus, then, O strangers, whatever fate Heaven may decree for you, if you desire happiness, find Our Lord Jesus Christ, and practice His justice." The old man was silent; the barbarians remained motionless. He, however, taking the young chief by the hand, led him to the esplanade of the castle, and showing him all that vast country which is watered by the Seine: "Young man," said he, "for as much as thou hast protected a poor old man, God will reward the noble heart within thee. Thou seest these lands so rich--they were once mine; and even now, after God, they have no other lawful owner. I give them to thee; make faith and equity reign there. I will rejoice in thy reign." Now this chief, to whom the penitent Robert thus bequeathed his faith and his inheritance, was Rollo, first Duke of the Normans. ALL SOULS' EVE. Where the tombstones gray and browned, And the broken roods around, And the vespers' solemn sound, Told an old church near; I sat me in the eve, And I let my fancy weave Such a vision as I leave With a frail pen here. Methought I heard a trail Like to slowly-falling hail And the sadly-plaintive wail Of a misty file of souls, As they glided o'er the grass, Sighing low: "Alas! alas! How the laggard moments pass In purgatorial doles!" Through their garments' glancing sheen, As if nothing were between, Pierced the moon's benignant beam To a grove of stunted pines; In whose distant lightsome shade, With their gilded coats arrayed, Danced a fairy cavalcade, To a fairy poet's rhymes. Then a cloud obscured the moon, And the fairy dance and rune Faded down behind the gloom Which along the upland fell, And my ears could only hear, In the church-yard lone and drear, The tinkle soft and clear Of the morning Mass's bell. It eddied through the air, And it seemed to call to prayer All the waiting spirits there Which the moon's beams showed, But each tinkle sank to die In a heart-distressing sigh, And no worshippers drew nigh With the penitential word. Mute as statue, on each knoll Stood a thin, transparent soul, While the fresh breeze stole From its long night's rest, Till it bore upon its tongue, Like a snatch of sacred song, All the peopled graves among, _Ite Missa est!_ Then a cry, as Angels raise In an ecstasy of praise, When the Godhead's glowing rays To their eager sight is given, Shook the consecrated ground, And the souls it lost were found From their venial sins unbound, In the happy fields of heaven! Where the tombstones gray and browned, And the broken roods around, And the vespers' solemn sound, Told an old church near; I sat me in the eve, And I let my fancy weave Such a vision as I leave With a frail pen here. ELEVENTH MONTH, NOVEMBER: THE HOLY SOULS. COMMEMORATION OF ALL SOULS. HARRIET M. SKIDMORE. O faithful church! O tender mother-heart, That, 'neath the shelter of thy deathless love, Shieldest the blood-bought charge thy Master gave; Laving the calm, unfurrowed infant brow With the pure wealth of Heaven's cleansing stream; Breathing above the sinner's grief-bowed head The mystic words that loose the demon-spell, And bid the leprous soul be clean again; Decking the upper chamber of the heart For the blest banquet of the Lord of love; Binding upon the youthful warrior's breast The buckler bright, the sacred shield of strength, The fair, celestial gift of Pentecost, Borne on the pinions of the holy Dove! And when, at last, life's sunset hour is near, And the worn pilgrim-feet stand trembling on The shadowy borders of the death-dark vale, At thy command the priestly hand bestows The potent unction in the saving Name, And gives unto the parched and pallid lip The blest Viaticum, the Bread of Life, As staff and stay for that drear pilgrimage! Thy prayers ascend, with magic incense-breath, From the lone couch, where, fainting by the way, The frail companion of the deathless soul Parteth in pain from its immortal guest. And when, at last, the golden chain is loosed, And through the shadows of that mystic vale The ransomed captive floateth swiftly forth, In solemn tones thy _De Profundis_ rings O'er all the realms of vast eternity; Thy tender litanies call gently down The angel-guides, the white-robed band of Saints, To lead the wanderer to "the great White Throne," To plead, with Heaven's own pitying tenderness, For life and mercy at the judgment-seat. The account is given, the saving sentence breathed, Yet He who said that nought by sin defiled Can take at once its blessed place amid The spotless legion of His shining Saints, Will find, upon the white baptismal robe, Full many a blemish; stains too lightly held, Half-cleansed by an imperfect sorrow's flood. "The Christian shall be saved, yet as by fire;" So, to the pain-fraught, purifying flame The robe is given, till every blighting spot Hath faded from its primal purity; Still, faithful Church, thy blest Communion binds Each suffering child unto thy mother's heart. Full well thou know'st the wondrous power of prayer-- That 'tis a holy and a wholesome thought To plead for those who in the drear abode Of penance linger, "that they may be loosed From all their sins;" that on each spotless brow Love's shining hand may place the starry crown. And so the holy Sacrifice ascends, A sweet oblation for that wailing band Thy regal form in mourning hues is draped, Thy pleading _Miserere_ ceaseth not Till, at its blest entreaty, Love descends, As erst, from His rent tomb, to Limbo's realm, And leads again the freed, exultant throng, Within the gleaming gates of gold and pearl, To bask in fadeless splendor, where the flow Of the "still waters" by the "pastures green" Faints not, nor slackens, through the endless years. O Christians, brethren by that holy tie That links the living with the ransomed dead! Children of one fond mother are ye all, White-robed in heaven, militant on earth, And sufferers 'mid the purifying flame. O ye who tread the highway of our world, Join now your voices with that mother's sigh! And while the mournful autumn wind laments, And sad November's ceaseless tear-drops fall Upon "the Silent City's" marble roofs, O'er lonely graves amid the pathless wild, Or where the wayworn pilgrim sank to rest In some lone cavern by the crested sea-- List to the pleading wail that e'er ascends From the dark land of suffering and woe: "Our footsteps trod your fair, sun-lighted paths, Our voices mingled in your joyous songs, Our tears were blended in one common grief; Perchance our erring hearts' excessive love For you, the worshipped idols of our lives, Hath been the blemish on our bridal robes. Plead for us, then, and let your potent prayer Unlock the golden gates, that we who beat Our eager wings against these prison bars, May wing our flight to endless liberty!" THE MEMORY OF THE DEAD. FATHER FABER [This poem scarcely comes within the scope of the present work, yet it is, by its nature, so closely connected therewith, and is, moreover, so exquisitely tender and pathetic, so beautiful in its mournful simplicity, that I decided on giving it a place amongst these funereal fragments.] Oh! it is sweet to think Of those that are departed, While murmured Aves sink To silence tender-hearted-- While tears that have no pain Are tranquilly distilling, And the dead live again In hearts that love is filling. Yet not as in the days Of earthly ties we love them; For they are touched with rays From light that is above them; Another sweetness shines Around their well-known features; God with His glory signs His dearly-ransomed creatures. Yes, they are more our own, Since now they are God's only; And each one that has gone Has left one heart less lonely. He mourns not seasons fled, Who now in Him possesses Treasures of many dead In their dear Lord's caresses. Dear dead! they have become Like guardian angels to us; And distant Heaven like home, Through them begins to woo us; Love that was earthly, wings Its flight to holier places; The dead are sacred things That multiply our graces. They whom we loved on earth Attract us now to Heaven; Who shared our grief and mirth Back to us now are given. They move with noiseless foot Gravely and sweetly round us, And their soft touch hath cut Full many a chain that bound us. O dearest dead! to Heaven With grudging sighs we gave you; To Him--be doubts forgiven! Who took you there to save you:-- Now get us grace to love Your memories yet more kindly, Pine for our homes above And trust to God more blindly. THE HOLY SOULS. WRITTEN FOR MUSIC BY THE AUTHOR OF "CHRISTIAN SCHOOLS AND SCHOLARS." O Mary, help of sorrowing hearts, Look down with pitying eye Where souls the spouses of thy Son, In fiery torments lie; Far from the presence of their Lord The purging debt they pay, In prisons through whose gloomy shades There shines no cheering ray. The fire of love is in their hearts, Its flame burns fierce and keen; They languish for His Blessed Face, For one brief moment seen; Prisoners of hope, their joy is there To wait His Holy Will, And, patient in the cleansing flames, Their penance to fulfil. But dark the gloom where smile of thine, Sweet Mother, may not fall, Oh, hear us, when for these dear souls Thy loving aid we call! Thou art the star whose gentle beam Sheds joy upon the night, Oh, let its shining pierce their gloom And give them peace and light. The sprinkling of the Precious Blood From thy dear hand must come, Quench with its drops their cruel flames, And call them to their home; Freed from their pains, and safe with thee, In Jesu's presence blest, Oh, may the dead in Christ receive Eternal light and rest! THE PALMER'S ROSARY. ELIZA ALLEN STARR. No coral beads on costly chain of gold The Palmer's pious lips at Vespers told; No guards of art could Pilgrim's favor win, Who only craved release from earth and sin. He from the Holy Land his rosary brought; From sacred olive wood each bead was wrought, Whose grain was nurtured, ages long ago, By blood the Saviour sweated in His woe; Then on the Holy Sepulchre was laid This crown of roses from His passion made; The Sepulchre from which the Lord of all Arose from death's dark bed and icy thrall. Yet not complete that wreath of joy and pain, Which for the dead must sweet indulgence gain; The pendant cross, on which with guileless art, Some hand had graved what touches every heart, The image of the Lamb for sinners slain, From Bethlehem's crib, now shrine, his prayers obtain; And tears and kisses tell the holy tale Of pilgrim love and penitential wail. The love, the tears, which fed his pious flame, May well be thine, my heart, in very same; Since bead and cross, by Palmer prized so well, At vesper-hour, these fingers softly tell, And press, through them, each dear and sacred spot Where God once walked, "yet men received Him not." And still, with pious Palmer gray, of yore, Thy lips can kiss the ground He wet with gore, Still at the Sepulchre with her delay, Who found Him risen ere the break of day; And hover round the crib with meek delight Where shepherds hasted from their flocks by night, To there adore Him whom a Virgin blessed, Bore in her arms and nourished at her breast. My Rosary dear! my Bethlehem Cross so fair! No rose, no lily can with thee compare; No gems, no gold, no art, or quaint device Could be my precious Rosary's priceless price; For Heaven's eternal joys at holier speed, I trust to win through every sacred bead; And still for suffering souls obtain release From cleansing fires to everlasting peace. A LYKE WAKE DIRGE. [From Sir Walter Scott's "Minstrelsy of the Border," we take this fragment. The dirge to which the eminent author alludes in a before- quoted extract from his work, and which he erroneously styles "a charm," is here given in full. The reader will observe that it partakes not the least of the nature of a charm. It would seem to have some analogy with the "Keen," or Wail of the Irish peasantry.] This ae nighte, this ae nighte, Every nighte and alle; Fire and sleet, and candle lighte, And Christe receive thye saule. When thou from hence away are paste, Every nighte and alle; To Whinny-muir thou comest at laste; And Christe receive thye saule. If ever thou gavest hosen and shoon; Every nighte and alle; Sit thee down and put them on; And Christe receive thye saule. If hosen and shoon thou ne'er gavest nane, Every nighte and alle, The whinnes shall pricke thee to the bare bane; And Christe receive thye saule. From Whinny-muir, when thou mayest passe, Every nighte and alle; To Brig o' Dread thou comest at laste; And Christe receive thye saule. From Brig o' Dread when thou mayest passe, Every nighte and alle; To Purgatory fire thou comest at laste; And Christe receive thye saule. If ever thou gavest meat or drink, Every nighte and alle, The fire shall never make thee shrinke; And Christe receive thye saule. If meat or drink thou never gavest nane, Every nighte and alle; The fire will burn thee to the bare bane; And Christe receive thye saule. This ae nighte, this ae nighte, Every nighte and alle; Fire and sleet, and candle lighte, And Christe receive thye saule. ALL SOULS' DAY. SECOND VESPERS OF ALL SAINTS. _From "Lyra Liturgica."_ What means this veil of gloom Drawn o'er the festive scene; The solemn records of the tomb Where holy mirth hath been: As if some messenger of death should fling His tale of woe athwart some nuptial gathering? Our homage hath been given With gladsome voice to them Who fought, and won, and wear in heaven Christ's robe and diadem; Now to the suffering Church we must descend, Our "prisoners of hope" with succor to befriend. They will not strive nor cry, Nor make their pleading known; Meekly and patiently they lie, Speaking with God alone; And this the burden of their voiceless song, Wafted from age to age, "How long, O Lord, how long?" O blessed cleansing pain! Who would not bear thy load, Where every throb expels a stain, And draws us nearer GOD? Faith's firm assurance makes all anguish light, With earth behind, and heaven fast opening on the sight. Yet souls that nearest come To their predestin'd gain, Pant more and more to reach their home: Delay is keenest pain To those that all but touch the wish'd for shore, Where sin, and grief that comes of sin, shall fret no more. And O--O charity, For sweet remembrance sake, These souls, to God so very nigh, Into your keeping take! Speed them by sacrifice and suffrage, where They burn to pour for you a more prevailing prayer. They were our friends erewhile, Co-heirs of saving grace; Co-partners of our daily toil, Companions in our race; We took sweet counsel in the house of God, And sought a common rest along a common road. And had their brethren car'd To keep them just and pure, Perchance their pitying God had spar'd, The pains they now endure. What if to fault of ours those pains be due, To ill example shown, or lack of counsel true? Alas, there are who weep In fierce, unending flame, Through sin of those on earth that sleep, Regardless of their shame; Or who, though they repent, too sadly know No help of theirs can cure or soothe their victim's woe. Thanks to our God who gives, In fruitful Mass or prayer, To many a friend that dies, yet lives, A salutary share; Nor stints our love, though cords of sense be riven, Nor bans from hope the soul that is not ripe for heaven. Feast of the Holy Dead! Great Jubilee of grace! When angel guards exulting lead To their predestin'd place Souls, that the Church shall loose from bonds to-day In every clime that basks beneath her genial sway. THE SUFFERING SOULS. BY E. M. V. BULGER. It is a holy and wholesome thought to pray for the dead.--II Mac. xii. 46. In some quiet hour at the close of day, When your work is finished and laid away, Think of the suffering souls, and pray. Think of that prison of anguish and pain, Where even the souls of the Saints remain, Till cleansed by fire from the slightest stain. Think of the souls who were dear to you When this life held them; still be true, And pray for them now; it is all you can do. Think of the souls who are lonely there, With no one, perchance, to offer a prayer That God may have pity on them and spare. Think of the souls that have longest lain In that place of exile and of pain, Suffering still for some uncleansed stain. Think of the souls who, perchance, may be On the very threshold of liberty-- One "_Ave Maria_" may set them free! Oh, then, at the close of each passing day, When your work is finished and folded away, Think of the suffering souls, and pray! Think of their prison, so dark and dim, Think of their longing to be with Him Whose praises are sung by the cherubim! As you tell the beads of your Rosary, Ask God's sweet Mother their mother to be; Her immaculate hands hold Heaven's key. Oh, how many souls are suffering when You whisper "Hail Mary" again and again, May see God's face as you say "_Amen!_" --_Ave Maria_, November 24, 1883. THE VOICES OF THE DEAD. 'Twas the hour after sunset, And the golden light had paled; The heavy foliage of the woods Were all in shadow veiled. Yet a witchery breathed through the soft twilight, A thought of the sun that was set, And a soft and mystic radiance Through the heavens hung lingering yet. The purple hills stood clear and dark Against the western sky, And the wind came sweeping o'er the grass With a wild and mournful cry: It swept among the grass that grows Above the quiet grave, And stirred the boughs of the linden-trees That o'er the church-yard wave. And the low murmur of the leaves All softly seemed to say, "It is a good and wholesome thought For the dead in Christ to pray." Earth's voices all are low and dim; But a human heart is there, With psalms and words of holy Church, To join in Nature's prayer. A Monk is pacing up and down; His prayers like incense rise; Ever a sweet, sad charm for him Within that church-yard lies. Each morning when from Mary's tower The sweet-toned _Ave_ rings, This herdsman of the holy dead A Mass of Requiem sings. And when upon the earth there falls The hush of eventide, A dirge he murmurs o'er the graves Where they slumber side by side. "Eternal light shine o'er them, Lord! And may they rest in peace!" His matins all are finished now, And his whispered accents cease. But, hark! what sound is that which breaks The stillness of the hour? Is it the ivy as it creeps Against the gray church tower? Is it the sound of the wandering breeze, Or the rustling of the grass, Or the stooping wing of the evening birds As home to their nests they pass? No; 'tis a voice like one in dreams, Half solemn and half sad, Freed from the weariness of earth, Not yet with glory clad; Full of the yearning tenderness Which nought but suffering gives; Too sad for angel-tones--too full Of rest for aught that lives. They are the Voices of the Dead From the graves that lie around, And the Monk's heart swells within his breast, As he listens to the sound. "Amen! Amen!" the answer comes Unto his muttered prayer; "Amen!" as though the brethren all In choir were standing there. The living and departed ones On earth are joined again, And the bar that shuts them from his ken For a moment parts in twain. Over the gulf that yawns beneath, Their echoed thanks he hears For the Masses he has offered up, For his orisons and tears. And as the strange responsory Mounts from the church-yard sod, Their mingled prayers and answers rise Unto the throne of God. [1] [Footnote 1: There is a story recorded of St. Birstan, Bishop of Winchester, who died about the year of Christ 944, how he was wont every day to say Mass and Matins for the dead; and one evening, as he walked in the church-yard, reciting his said Matins, when he came to the _Requiescat in Pace_, the voices in the graves round about him made answer aloud, and said, "Amen, Amen!"--_From the "English Martyrology" for October 22_] --_M. R., in "The Lamp," Oct. 31, 1863._ THE CONVENT CEMETERY. REV. ABRAM J. RYAN. [This is an extract from Father Ryan's poem, "Their Story Runneth Thus."] And years and years, and weary years passed on Into the past; one autumn afternoon, When flowers were in their agony of death, And winds sang "_De Profundis_" o'er them, And skies were sad with shadows, he did walk Where, in a resting-place as calm as sweet, The dead were lying down; the autumn sun Was half-way down the west--the hour was three, The holiest hour of all the twenty-four, For Jesus leaned His head on it, and died. He walked alone amid the Virgins' graves, Where calm they slept--a convent stood near by, And from the solitary cells of nuns Unto the cells of death the way was short. Low, simple stones and white watched o'er each grave, While in the hollows 'twixt them sweet flowers grew, Entwining grave with grave. He read the names Engraven on the stones, and "Rest in peace" Was written 'neath them all, and o'er each name A cross was graven on the lowly stone. He passed each grave with reverential awe, As if he passed an altar, where the Host Had left a memory of its sacrifice. And o'er the buried virgin's virgin dust He walked as prayerfully as though he trod The holy floor of fair Loretto's shrine. He passed from grave to grave, and read the names Of those whose own pure lips had changed the names By which this world had known them into names Of sacrifice known only to their God; Veiling their faces they had veiled their names. The very ones who played with them as girls, Had they passed there, would know no more than he, Or any stranger, where their playmates slept. And then he wondered all about their lives, their hearts, Their thoughts, their feelings, and their dreams, Their joys and sorrows, and their smiles and tears. He wondered at the stories that were hid Forever down within those simple graves. ONE HOUR AFTER DEATH. ELIZA ALLEN STARR. Oh! I could envy thee thy solemn sleep, Thy sealed lid, thy rosary-folding palm, Thy brow, scarce cold, whose wasted outlines keep The "_Bona Mors_" sublime, unfathomed calm. I sigh to wear myself that burial robe Anointed hands have blessed with pious care: What nuptial garb on all this mortal globe Could with thy habit's peaceful brown compare? Beneath its hallowed folds thy feeble dust Shall rest serenely through the night of time; Unharmed by worm, or damp, or century's rust, But, fresh as youth, shall greet th' eternal prime Of that clear morn, before whose faintest ray Earth's bliss will pale, a taper's flickering gleam; I see it break! the pure, celestial day, And stars of mortal hope already dim. "_In pace_" Lord, oh! let her sweetly rest In Paradise, this very day with Thee: Her faithful lips her dying Lord confessed, Then let her soul Thy risen glory see! A PRAYER FOR THE DEAD. T. D. MCGEE. Let us pray for the dead! For sister and mother, Father and brother, For clansman and fosterer, And all who have loved us here; For pastors, for neighbors, At rest from their labors; Let us pray for our own beloved dead! That their souls may be swiftly sped Through the valley of purgatorial fire, To a heavenly home by the gate called Desire! I see them cleave the awful air, Their dun wings fringed with flame; They hear, they hear our helping prayer, They call on Jesu's name. Let us pray for the dead! For our foes who have died, May they be justified! For the stranger whose eyes Closed on cold alien skies; For the sailors who perished By the frail arts they cherished; Let us pray for the unknown dead. Father in heaven, to Thee we turn, Transfer their debt to us; Oh! bid their souls no longer burn In mediate anguish thus. Let us pray for the soldiers, On whatever side slain; Whose white bones on the plain Lay unclaimed and unfathered, By the vortex-wind gathered, Let us pray for the valiant dead. Oh! pity the soldier, Kind Father in heaven, Whose body doth moulder Where his soul fled self-shriven. We have prayed for the dead; All the faithful departed, Who to Christ were true-hearted; And our prayers shall be heard, For so promised the Lord; And their spirits shall go Forth from limbo-like woe-- And joyfully swift the justified dead Shall feel their unbound pinions sped, Through the valley of purgatorial fire, To their heavenly home by the gate called Desire, By the gate called Desire, In clouds they've ascended-- O Saints, pray for us, Now your sorrows are ended! THE DE PROFUNDIS BELL. [1] [Footnote 1: Among the many beautiful and pious customs of Catholic countries, none appeals with more tender earnestness to the pitying heart than that of the _De Profundis_ bell. While the shades of night are gathering over the earth, a solemn, dirge like tolling resounds from the lofty church towers. Instantly every knee is bent, and countless voices, in city and hamlet, from castle and cottage, repeat, with heartfelt earnestness, the beautiful psalm, "_De Profundis_," or, "Out of the depths," etc., for the souls of the faithful departed. Thus is illustrated, in a most touching manner, the blessed doctrine of the Communion of Saints. Thus does the Church Militant clasp, each day anew, the holy tie which binds her to the suffering Church of Purgation. The compassionate heart of the Christian is stirred to its inmost depths by the plaintive call of that warning bell; and as, in the holy hush of nightfall, he obeys its tender appeal, how fully does he realize that "it is a holy and wholesome thought to pray for the dead."] HARRIET M. SKIDMORE. The day was dead; from purple summits faded Its last resplendent ray, And softly slept the wearied earth, o'ershaded By twilight's dreamy gray; Then flowed deep sound-waves o'er silence holy Of nature's calm repose, As from its lofty dome, outpealing slowly Through the still gloaming, rose The deep and dirge-like swell Of _De Profundis_ bell. To heedful hearts each solemn cadence falling Through twilight's misty veil, An echo seemed of spirit-voices calling With sad, beseeching wail; And thus outspake the mournful intonation: "Plead for us, brethren, plead!" From the drear depths of woe and desolation Our cry of bitter need Floats upward in the swell Of _De Profundis_ bell. Then bowed each knee, the plaintive summons heeding, And rose the blended sigh. As incense-breath of fond, united pleading E'en to the throne on high: "Hear, Lord, the cry of fervent supplication Earth's children lift to Thee; And from the depths of long and dread purgation Thy faithful captives free, Ere dies on earth the swell Of _De Profundis_ bell. "If, in Thy sight, scarce e'en the perfect whiteness Of seraph-robe is pure, Shall mortals brave Thine eye's eternal brightness? Shall man its search endure? Ah! trusting hope may meet the dazzling splendor Of those celestial rays, For with Thee, Lord, is pardon sweet and tender, When contrite sorrow prays. Ay, Thou wilt lead, from desert-waste of sadness, Thine Israel's chosen band; And Miriam's song of pure, triumphant gladness Shall, in Thy promised land, Succeed the dirge-like swell Of _De Profundis_ bell." NOVEMBER. ANNA. T. SADLIER. Robed in mourning, nave and chancel, In the livery of the dead, Hymns funereal are chanted. Services sublime are read. Sounds the solemn _Dies Iræ_, Fraught with echoes from the day When the majesty of Heaven Shall appear in dread array. Next the Gospel's weird recital, Full of mystery and dread; Holding message for the living, Bringing tidings of the dead. With its resurrection promised-- Resurrection unto life, With its full and true fruition, And immunity from strife. Blest immunity from sorrow, Primal man's unhappy dower; While the evil shall find judgment In the resurrection hour. To the Lord, the King of Glory, Goes the voiceless, tuneless prayer, From the deep pit to deliver, From eternal pains to spare. All who wait the holy coming, Wait the dawning of a day That shall ope the gates of darkness, Shall illume the watcher's way. May the holy Michael lead them To the fullness of the light That of old, in prophet visions, Burst on Adam's dazzled sight. May they pass from death to living-- Message that the Master's voice Gave to Abraham the faithful, Bade his exiled soul rejoice. May perpetual light descending Touch their foreheads, dark with fear-- Dark with deadly torments suffered; Sign them with the glory near! May they rest, O Lord, forever In a peace that, unexpressed, Shall bestow upon the pilgrims Dual crowns of light and rest! Death's weird canticle is ringing In its supplication strong-- In its far cry to the heavens, Couched in wild, unearthly song. Ay, this _Libera_ o'ercomes us, Requiem, at once, and dirge-- Makes this life with life immortal In our consciousness to merge. FOR THE SOULS IN PURGATORY. ANONYMOUS. Ye souls of the faithful who sleep in the Lord, But as yet are shut out from your final reward, Oh! would I could lend you assistance to fly From your prison below to your palace on high! O Father of Mercies! Thine anger withhold, These works of Thy hand in Thy mercy behold; Too oft from Thy path they have wandered aside, But Thee, their Creator, they never denied. O tender Redeemer, their misery see, Deliver the souls that were ransomed by Thee; Behold how they love Thee, despite all their pain; Restore them, restore them to favor again! O Spirit of Grace! O Consoler divine! See how for Thy presence they longingly pine; Ah! then, to enliven their sadness descend, And fill them with peace and with joy in the end! O Mother of Mercy! dear soother in grief! Send thou to their torments a balmy relief; Oh! temper the rigor of justice severe, And soften their flames with a pitying tear. Ye Patrons, who watched o'er their safety below, Oh! think how they need your fidelity now; And stir all the Angels and Saints in the sky To plead for the souls that upon you rely! Ye friends, who once sharing their pleasure and pain, Now hap'ly already in Paradise reign, Oh! comfort their hearts with a whisper of love, And call them to share in your pleasures above! O Fountain of Goodness! accept of our sighs: Let Thy mercy bestow what Thy justice denies; So may Thy poor captives, released from their woes, Thy praises proclaim, while eternity flows! All ye who would honor the Saints and their Head, Remember, remember to pray for the dead-- And they, in return, from their misery freed, To you will be friends in the hour of your need! --_Garland of Flowers_. ALL SOULS' EVE. 'Twas All Souls' Eve; the lights in Notre Dame Blazed round the altar; gloomy, in the midst, The pall, with all its sable hangings, stood; With torch and taper, priests were ranged around, Chanting the solemn requiem of the dead; And then along the aisles the distant lights Moved slowly, two by two; the chapels shone Lit as they pass'd in momentary glare; Behind the fretted choir the yellow ray, On either hand the altar, blazing fell. She thought upon the multitude of souls Dwelling so near and yet so separate. With dawn she sought Saint Jacques; the altars there Had each its priest; the black and solemn Mass, The nodding feathers of the catafalque, The flaring torches, and the funeral chant, And intercessions for the countless souls In Purgatory still. With pity new The Pilgrim pray'd for the departed. Long She knelt before the Blessed Sacrament, Beside Our Lady's altar. Pictured there, She saw, imprisoned in the forked flames, The suffering souls who ask the alms of prayer; Her taper small an aged peasant lit, To burn before Our Lady, that her voice, Mother of mercy as she is, might plead For one who left her still on earth to pray. . . . . . Sable veils Soon hid the altars; all things spoke of death, And realms where those who leave the upper air Wait till the stains of sin are cleansed, and pant Amid the thirsty flames for Paradise. [1] [Footnote 1: These verses are taken from an anonymous metrical work called "The Pilgrim," published in England in 1867.] OUR NEIGHBOR. ELIZA ALLEN STARR. Set it down gently at the altar rail, The faithful, aged dust, with honors meet; Long have we seen that pious face, so pale, Bowed meekly at her Saviour's blessed feet. These many years her heart was hidden where Nor moth, nor rust, nor craft of man could harm; The blue eyes, seldom lifted, save in prayer, Beamed with her wished-for heaven's celestial calm. As innocent as childhood's was the face, Though sorrow oft had touched that tender heart; Each trouble came as winged by special grace, And resignation saved the wound from smart. On bead and crucifix her finger kept, Until the last, their fond, accustomed hold; "My Jesus," breathed the lips; the raised eyes slept, The placid brow, the gentle hand grew cold. The choicely ripening cluster, ling'ring late Into October on its shrivelled vine, Wins mellow juices, which in patience wait Upon those long, long days of deep sunshine. Then set it gently at the altar rail, The faithful, aged dust, with honors meet; How can we hope, if such as she can fail Before th' Eternal God's high judgment-seat? PURGATORY. OLD BELLS. Ring out merrily, Loudly, cheerily, Blithe old bells from the steeple tower. Hopefully, fearfully, Joyfully, tearfully, Moveth the bride from her maiden bower. Cloud there is none in the bright summer sky, Sunshine flings benison down from on high; Children sing loud as the train moves along, "Happy the bride that the sun shineth on." Knell out drearily, Measured out wearily, Sad old bells from the steeple gray. Priests chanting slowly, Solemnly, slowly, Passeth the corpse from the portal to-day. Drops from the leaden clouds heavily fall, Drippingly over the plume and the pall; Murmur old folk, as the train moves along, "Happy the dead that the rain raineth on." Toll at the hour of prime, Matin and vesper chime, Loved old bells from the steeple high; Rolling, like holy waves, Over the lowly graves, Floating up, prayer-fraught, into the sky. Solemn the lesson your lightest notes teach, Stern is the preaching your iron tongues preach; Ringing in life from the bud to the bloom; Ringing the dead to their rest in the tomb. Peal out evermore-- Peal as ye pealed of yore, Brave old bells, on each holy day. In sunshine and gladness, Through clouds and through sadness, Bridal and burial have both passed away. Tell us life's pleasures with death are still rife; Tell us that death ever leadeth to life; Life is our labor and death is our rest, If happy the living, the dead are the blest. --_Popular Poetry_. O HOLY CHURCH! HARRIET M. SKIDMORE. O holy Church! thy mother-heart Still clasps the child of grace; And nought its links of love can part, Or rend its fond embrace. Thy potent prayer and sacred rite Embalm the precious clay, That waits the resurrection-light-- The fadeless Easter day. And loving hearts, by faith entwined, True to that faith shall be, And keep the sister-soul enshrined In tender memory; Shall bid the ceaseless prayer ascend, To win her guerdon blest; The radiant day that hath no end, The calm, eternal rest. AN INCIDENT OF THE BATTLE OF BANNOCKBURN. SIR WALTER SCOTT. Again he faced the battle-field-- Wildly they fly, are slain, or yield. "Now then," he said, and couch'd his spear, "My course is run, the goal is near; One effort more, one brave career, Must close this race of mine." Then, in his stirrups rising high, He shouted loud his battle-cry, "St. James for Argentine!" * * * * * Now toil'd the Bruce, the battle done, To use his conquest boldly won: And gave command for horse and spear To press the Southern's scatter'd rear, Nor let his broken force combine, When the war-cry of Argentine Fell faintly on his ear! "Save, save his life," he cried. "O save The kind, the noble, and the brave!" The squadrons round free passage gave, The wounded knight drew near. He raised his red-cross shield no more, Helm, cuish, and breast-plate stream'd with gore. Yet, as he saw the King advance, He strove even then to couch his lance-- The effort was in vain! The spur-stroke fail'd to rouse the horse; Wounded and weary, in 'mid course He tumbled on the plain. Then foremost was the generous Bruce To raise his head, his helm to loose:-- "Lord Earl, the day is thine! My sovereign's charge, and adverse fate, Have made our meeting all too late; Yet this may Argentine, As boon from ancient comrade, crave-- A Christian's Mass, a soldier's grave." Bruce pressed his dying hand--its grasp Kindly replied; but, in his clasp It stiffen'd and grew cold-- And, "O farewell!" the victor cried, Of chivalry the flower and pride, The arm in battle bold, The courteous mien, the noble race, The stainless faith, the manly face! Bid Ninian's convent light their shrine, For late-wake of De Argentine. O'er better knight on death-bier laid, Torch never gleamd, nor Mass was said! [1] [Footnote 1: It is said that the body of Sir Giles de Argentine was brought to Edinburgh, and interred with the greatest pomp in St. Giles' Church. Thus did the royal Bruce respond to the dying knight's request.] --_From "The Lord of the Isles"_ PRAY FOE THE MARTYRED DEAD. Pray for the Dead! When, conscienceless, the nations Rebellious rose to smite the thorn-crowned Head Of Christendom, their proudest aspirations Ambitioned but a place amongst the dead. Pray for the Dead! The seeming fabled story of early chivalry, in them renewed, Shines out to-day with an ascendent glory Above that field of parricidal feud. The children of a persecuted mother, When nations heard the drum of battle beat, Through coward Europe, brother leagued with brother, Rallied and perished at her sacred feet. O Ireland, ever waiting the To-morrow, Lift up thy widowed, venerable head, Exultingly, through thy maternal sorrow, Not comfortless, like Rachel, for thy dead. For, where the crimson shock of battle thundered, From hosts precipitated on a few, Above thy sons, outnumbered, crushed and sundered, Thy green flag through the smoke and glitter flew. Lift up thy head! The hurricane that dashes Its giant billows on the Rock of Time, Divests thee, mother, of thy weeds and ashes, Rendering, at least, thy grief sublime. For nations, banded into conclaves solemn, Thy name and spirit in the grave had cast, And carved thy name upon the crumbling column Which stands amid the unremembered Past. Pray for the Dead! Cold, cold amid the splendor Of the Italian South our brothers sleep; The blue air broods above them warm and tender, The mists glide o'er them from the barren deep. Pray for the Dead! High-souled and lion-hearted, Heroic martyrs to a glorious trust, By them our scorned name is re-asserted, By them our banner rescued from the dust. --_Kilkenny Journal_. IN WINTER ELIZA ALLEN STARR. How lonely on the hillside look the graves! The summer green no longer o'er them waves; No more, among the frosted boughs, are heard The mournful whip-poor-will or singing bird. The rose-bush, planted with such tearful care, Stands in the winter sunshine stiff and bare; Save here and there its lingering berries red Make the cold sunbeams warm above the dead. Through all the pines, and through the tall, dry grass, The fitful breezes with a shiver pass, While o'er the autumn's lately flowering weeds The snow-birds flit and peck the shelling seeds. Because those graves look lonely, bleak and bare, Because they are not, as in summer, fair, O turn from comforts, cheery friends, and home, And 'mid their solemn desolation roam! On each brown turf some fresh memorial lay; O'er each dear hillock's dust a moment stay, To breathe a "Rest in Peace" for those who lie On lonely hillsides 'neath a wintry sky. OSEMUS. MARY E MANNIX Welcome, ye sad dirges of November, When Indian summer drops her brilliant crown All withered, as in clinging mantle brown She floats, away to die beneath the leaves; Pressed are the grapes, gathered the latest sheaves; O wailing winds! how can we but remember The loved and lost? O ceaseless monotones! Hearing your plaints, counting your weary moans Like voices of the dead, like broken sighs From stricken souls who long for Paradise, We will not slight the message that ye bear, Nor check a pitying thought, nor guide a prayer. They have departed, we must still remember; Welcome, ye sad, sad dirges of November! FUNERAL HYMN. _From the French of Theodore Nisard_ A. T. SADLIER The bell is tolling for the dead, Christians, hasten we to prayer, Our brothers suffer there, Consumed in struggles vain. Have pity, have pity on them, In torturing flames immersed, The stains their souls aspersed Retain them far from heav'n. Since God has giv'n us power, Oh, let us their woes relieve; Their hope do not deceive, Our protectors they will be. For these suff'ring ones we pray, Lord Jesus, Victim blest, Take them from pain to rest, Thy children, too, are they. * * * * * [As the translation is a very rude one, we add the French original, which, particularly when set to music, is full of a deep solemnity and pathos.] CHANT FUNÈBRE. NISARD La cloche tinte pour les morts Chrétiens, mettons nous en prières! Ceux qi gemissent sont des frères, Se consumant en vains efforts. Pitié pour eux! Pitié pour eux! Ils tourbillonnent dans la flamme; Les taches qui souillent leur âmes, Les tiennent captifs loin des cieux. Mettons un terme à leur douleurs, Dieu nous en donne la puissance; Ne trompons point leur espérance, Puis ils seront nos protecteurs. Disons pour nos fières souffrants: Sauveur Jésus, Sainte Victime, Tirez nos frères de l'abime, Car, eux aussi, sont vos enfants. REQUIESCAT IN PACE. HARRIET M. SKIDMORE O Father, give them rest-- Thy faithful ones, whose day of toil is o'er, Whose weary feet shall wander never more O'er earth's unquiet breast! The battle-strife was long; Yet, girt with grace, and guided by Thy light, They faltered not till triumph closed the fight, Till pealed the victor's song. Though drear the desert path, With cruel thorns and flinty fragments strewn, Where fiercely swept, amid the glare of noon. The plague-wind's biting wrath. Still onward pressed their feet; For patience soothed with sweet celestial balm, And, from the rocks, hope called her founts to calm The Simoom's venom-heat. Their march hath reached its close, Its toils are o'er, its Red Sea safely passed; And pilgrim feet have cast aside at last Earth's sandal-shoon of woes. Thou blissful promised land! One rapturous glimpse of matchless glory caught, One priceless vision, with thy beauty fraught, Hath blessed that way-worn band. And to thy smiling shore Their ceaseless messengers of longing went, And blooms of bliss and fruitage of content, Returning, gladly bore. Yet sadly still they wait; For, past idolatries to gods of clay, And past rebellions 'gainst the Master's sway, Have barred the golden gate. The magic voice of prayer, The saving rite, the sacrifice of love, The human tear, the sigh of Saints above, Blent in one off'ring fair-- These, these alone, can win The boon they crave: glad entrance into rest, The fadeless crown, the garment of the blest, Washed pure from stain of sin. Hear, then, our eager cry. O God of mercy! bid their anguish cease; To prisoned souls, ah! bring the glad release, And hush the mourner's sigh. Mother of pitying love! On sorrow's flood thy tender glances bend, And o'er its dark and dreadful torrent send The olive-bearing dove. Thy potent prayer shall be An arch of peace, a radiant promise-bow, To span the gulf, and shed its cheering glow O'er the dread penance-sea. And on its pathway blest The ransomed throng, in garments washed and white, May safely pass to love's fair realm of light, To heaven's perfect rest. THE FEAST OF ALL SOULS IS THE COUNTRY. _From the French of Fontanes_. [1] [Footnote 1: Louis, Marquis de Fontanes, Peer of France, and Member of the French Academy.] ANNA T. SADLIER E'en now doth Sagittarius from on high, Outstretch his bow, and ravage all the earth, The hills, and meadows where of flowers the dearth Already felt, like some vast ruins lie. The bleak November counts its primal day, While I, a witness of the year's decline, Glad of my rest, within the fields recline. No poet heart this beauty can gainsay, No feeling mind these autumn pictures scorn, But knows how their monotonous charms adorn. Oh, with what joy does dreamy sorrow stray At eve, slow pacing, the dun-colored vale; He seeks the yellow woods, and hears the tale Of winds that strip them of their lonely leaves; For this low murmur all my sense deceives. In rustling forests do I seem to hear Those voices long since still, to me most dear. In leaves grown sere they speak unto my heart. This season round the coffin-lid we press, Religion wears herself a mourning dress, More grand she seems, while her diviner part At sight of this, a world in ruins, grows. To-day a pious usage she has taught, Her voice opens vaults wherein our fathers dwell. Alas, my memory doth keep that thought. The dawn appeareth, and the swaying bell Mingles its mournful sound with whistling winds, The Feast of Death proclaiming to the air. Men, women, children, to the Church repair, Where one, with speech and with example binds These happy tribes, maintaining all in peace. He follows them, the first apostles, near, Like them the pastor's holy name makes dear. "With hymns of joy," said he, "but yesterday We celebrated the triumphant dead Who conquer'd heav'n by burning zeal, faith-fed. For plaintive shades, whom sorrow makes his prey We weep to-day, our mourning is their bliss, All potent prayer is privileged in this, Souls purified from sin by transient pain It frees; we'll visit their most calm domain. Man seeks it, and descends there every hour. But dry our tears, for now celestial rays The grave's dim region swift shall penetrate; Yea, all its dwellers in their primal state Shall wake, behold the light in mute amaze. Ah, might I to that world my flight then wing In triumph to my God, my flock recovered bring." So saying, offered he the holy rite, With arms extended praying God to spare, The while adoring knelt he humbly there. That people prostrate! oh, most solemn sight That church, its porticoes with moss o'ergrown, The ancient walls, dim light and Gothic panes, In its antiquity the brazen lamp A symbol of eternity doth stamp. A lasting sun. God's majesty down sent, Vows, tears and incense from the altars rise, Young beauties praying 'neath their mothers' eyes, Do soften by their voices innocent, The touching pomp religion there reveals; The organ hush'd, the sacred silence round, All, all uplifts, ennobles and inspires; Man feels himself transported where the choirs Of seraphim with harps of gold entone Low at Jehovah's feet their endless song. Then God doth make His awful presence known, Hides from the wise, to loving hearts is shown: He seeks less to be proved than to be felt. [1] From out the Church the multitudes depart, In separate groups unto th' abode they go Of tranquil death, their tears still silent flow. The standard of the Cross is borne apart, Sublime our songs for death their sacred theme, Now mixed with noise that heralds storms they seem; Now lower above our heads the dark'ning clouds, Our faces mournful, our funereal hymn Both air and landscape in our grief enshrouds. Towards death's tranquil haven, on we fare, The cypress, ivy, and the yew trees haunt The spot where thorns seem growing everywhere. Sparse lindens rise up grimly here and there, The winds rush whistling through their branches gaunt. Hard by a stream, my mind found there exprest In waves and tombs a twofold lesson drest, Eternal movement and eternal rest. Ah, with what holy joy these peasants fain Would honor parent dust; they seek with pride The stone or turf, concealing those allied To them by love, they find them here again. Alas, with us we may not seek the boon Of gazing on the ashes of our dead. Our dead are banish'd, on their rights we tread, Their bones unhonored at hap-hazard strewn. E'en now 'gainst us cry out their _Manes_ pale, Those nations and those times dire woes entail, 'Mongst whom in hearts grown weak by slow degree, The _cultus_ of the dead has ceased. Here, here, at least have they from wrong been free, Their heritage of peace preserving best. No sumptuous marbles burden names here writ, A shepherd, farmer, peasant, as is fit, Beneath these stones in tranquil slumber see; Perchance a Turenne, a Corneille they hide, Who lived obscure, e'en to himself unknown. But if from men he'd risen separate, Sublime in camps, the theatre, the state, His name by idol-loving worlds outcried, Would that have made his slumber here more sweet? [Footnote 1: La Harpe said that these last twenty lines were the most beautiful verses in the French tongue. They necessarily lose considerably in the translation.] REQUIEM ÆTERNAM. T. D. MCGEE. [This beautiful requiem, written March 6th, 1868 (St. Victor's Day), on the death of an intimate friend, acquires a new pathos and a new solemnity, from the fact that its gifted author met his death at the hands of an assassin but one month later, on the 7th of April of the same year. Like Mozart, he wrote his own requiem] Saint Victor's Day, a day of woe, The bier that bore our dead went slow And silent gliding o'er the snow-- _Miserere Domine!_ With Villa Maria's faithful dead, Among the just we make his bed, The cross, he loved, to shield his head-- _Miserere Domine!_ The skies may lower, wild storms may rave Above our comrade's mountain grave, That cross is mighty still to save-- _Miserere Domine!_ Deaf to the calls of love and care, He bears no more his mortal share, Nought can avail him now but prayer-- _Miserere Domine!_ To such a heart who could refuse Just payment of all burial dues, Of Holy Church the rite and use? _Miserere Domine!_ Right solemnly the Mass was said, While burn'd the tapers round the dead, And manly tears like rain were shed-- _Miserere Domine!_ No more St. Patrick's aisles prolong The burden of his funeral song, His noiseless night must now be long-- _Miserere Domine!_ Up from the depths we heard arise A prayer of pity to the skies, To Him who dooms or justifies-- _Miserere Domine!_ Down from the skies we heard descend The promises the Psalmist penned, The benedictions without end-- _Miserere Domine!_ Mighty our Holy Church's will To shield her parting souls from ill, Jealous of Death, she guards them still-- _Miserere Domine!_ The dearest friend will turn away, And leave the clay to keep the clay, Ever and ever she will stay-- _Miserere Domine!_ When for us sinners at our need, That mother's voice is raised to plead, The frontier hosts of heaven 'take heed-- _Miserere Domine!_ Mother of Love! Mother of fear, And holy Hope, and Wisdom dear, Behold we bring thy suppliant here-- _Miserere Domine!_ His glowing heart is still for aye, That held fast by thy clemency, Oh! look on him with loving eye-- _Miserere Domine!_ His Faith was as the tested gold, His Hope assured, not over-bold, His Charities past count, untold-- _Miserere Domine!_ Well may they grieve who laid him there, Where shall they find his equal--where? Nought can avail him now but prayer-- _Miserere Domine!_ Friend of my soul, farewell to thee! Thy truth, thy trust, thy chivalry; As thine? so may my last end be! _Miserere Domine!_ APPENDIX ASSOCIATION OF MASSES AND STATIONS OF THE CROSS FOR THE BELIEF OF THE HOLY SOULS. It would be a great defect in a book such as this to omit all mention of an Association which exists in Montreal, Canada, for the special relief of the Souls in Purgatory. It is certain that there are Purgatorian societies, established in many other cities, both of Europe and America. But this Canadian one seems unique, in so far, that it has a triple aim: first, that of relieving the holy souls; second, that of the conversion of infidels; third, that of contributing to the support of the Mendicant Order of St. Francis. The money received is sent direct to these missionaries, by whom the Masses are said. Touching stories are told of the joy of these devoted apostles on receipt of such alms, which aid them so much in the various good works in which they are engaged. The society has, as it were, two branches. In the first the associates merely bind themselves to make the Way of the Cross once a week, on a day fixed, with the primary object of relieving the holy souls, and particularly those most pleasing to God; and the secondary one of converting the infidels. At the end of this exercise, they make use of the following invocation: "Holy Souls in Purgatory, rest in peace, and pray for us." The other branch has for its object the procuring of Masses for the deliverance of the suffering souls. Each associate must pay to the treasurer twenty-five cents a month, or three dollars a year; for which Masses will be said according to the intention of the subscriber, having always in view those souls which are most pleasing to God. One may become a life member, on payment of twenty-five dollars. Foundations of Masses can also be made in connection with the Association. They are similar to those which came into existence at the time of the Crusades and at many other epochs in Christian history. Such foundations are sometimes made in wills. They are, of course, not within the reach of every one. It is necessary to pay five hundred dollars into the hands of the Society. Every necessary security for its proper use is given, and the donor is entitled in perpetuity to a certain yearly rental to be expended in Masses for his soul. The sum may be paid in instalments, or several persons may club together in making the foundation. It is a sublime thought that the Holy Sacrifice will thus continue to be said for us, long after our memory has passed away from earth. But as the three dollars a year which constitutes one a member of the Association is much more within the reach of most of us, it may be well to lay more stress upon the advantages which we shall thereby gain for ourselves and our deceased friends. It entitles us after death to a special Mass and a Way of the Cross every year from each associate. The number of associates is very great; besides a share in all the Masses and Stations, we have also a share in the good works of the missionaries of St. Francis, and can gain Indulgences which have been granted to the members. These Indulgences, plenary and partial, are attached to all the principal, and to some of the minor feasts of the year. In connection with the work, an almanac both in French and English is published every year at Montreal, and sold for the moderate sum of five cents. In this pamphlet a full account is given of the Association, and there is besides a great deal of useful and interesting reading, such as anecdotes relating to the dead, the opinions of various spiritual authors on Purgatory, and letters from foreign countries, or from various individuals concerning, the society and its progress. [1] [Footnote 1: To become an associate one must address himself to the chaplain, Rev. F. Reid, 401 St. Denis Street, or to the treasurer, Louis Ricard, Esq., 166 St. Denis St, Montreal, Canada.] EXTRACTS FROM "THE CATHOLIC REVIEW." [1] [Footnote 1: November, 1885.] "The Month of the Holy Souls" is at hand. In Catholic lands November is specially devoted by the faithful to increased suffrages for the repose of the holy and patient dead. Many reports reach us from experienced priests showing that the practice of requesting Requiem Masses for the dead is not increasing. Priests have what is, in some respects, a natural objection to urge upon their people perseverance in this old Catholic practice of piety and gratitude. It is one which can be easily understood. Yet, largely owing to this nice delicacy, they are, after their own deaths, forgotten by many bound to them through spiritual gratitude. One of the most experienced priests in New York tells us that for five priests that have died in his house he has not known ten Masses to be said at the request of the laity. How does friendship serve others less public and less popular? It gives a big funeral, a long procession of useless carriages, but no alms to the poor, and no Masses for the dead. What a pity it is that in drawing so much that is Catholic and beautiful from Ireland, we did not adopt its truly Christian devotion for the forgotten and neglected dead, which makes every priest recite the _De Profundis_ and prayers for the faithful departed, before he leaves the altar. We noticed some time ago that the Holy See sanctioned a Spanish practice of permitting to each priest three Masses on All Souls' Day as on Christmas Day. No doubt, were it properly petitioned, it would likewise extend to all the churches drawing their faith from St. Patrick's preaching, that privilege, as well as the beautiful custom that now has the force of law in Ireland, and that recalls so much of her devotion to the dead and of her suffering for the Catholic faith. That _De Profundis is one of the chapters of "fossil history," which in all future periods will recall the generous endowments that Ireland once provided for her dead, and the ruthless confiscations by which they were robbed. Not a Catholic American paper that we have received this November has failed to argue ably, generously, and most Christianly, for suffrages for those who have gone before and are anticipating the advent of final peace. The letters which come to a Catholic newspaper office are a very sure barometer of the waves of thought in the Catholic atmosphere of the country. From those that we have received we can affirm that no devotion would be much more popular with the people than that which was pronounced in the days of the Maccabees "a holy and wholesome thought." Every day now there is an agreeable record in the daily papers of New York of Requiem services held in the various churches for the repose of the soul of the late Cardinal. Church after church seems to surpass its predecessors in the grateful devotion of the people, who show that they remember their prelate. In St. Gabriel's the Cardinal's private secretary, Mgr. Farley, had the satisfaction of witnessing an exceptionally large gathering to honor his illustrious chief. The Paulist Fathers had a Requiem service that was worthy of their Church and their affection for the dead, to whom they were bound by so many ties. Rome, if the city of the soul, is also pre-eminently the city of the dead. So many great and illustrious deaths are reported to it daily from the ends of the earth that to it death and greatness are familiar and almost unnoticeable facts. It is, therefore, not undeserving of remark to find the newspapers of the Eternal City marking their notices of the passing of our Cardinal with unusual signs of mourning. Their comments on the great loss of the American Church are toned by the _gravis m�ror_ with which the Holy Father received by Atlantic Cable the sad news. In the American College, Rev. Dr. O'Connell, the President, took immediate steps to pay to its illustrious patron the last homage that Catholic affection and loyalty can render to the great dead. From a letter to _The Catholic Review_ we learn that the celebrant of the Solemn Mass of Requiem was the rector, Rev. Dr. O'Connell; Rev. John Curley, deacon; Rev. Bernard Duffy, sub-deacon; Rev. Thomas McManus and William Guinon, acolytes; Mr. William Murphy, thurifer; and Rev. Messrs. Cunnion and Raymond, masters of ceremonies. All these gentlemen are students from the diocese of New York. A REQUIEM FOR THE CARDINAL IN PARIS. PARIS, _October_ 30.--A solemn funeral service of exceptional splendor was celebrated this morning at the Madeleine for the repose of the late Cardinal McCloskey, Archbishop of New York. The church was hung with black and was resplendent with lights. Outside the portico, on the steps, were two large funeral torches, with green flames. Similar torches were visible in many parts of the edifice, including the lofty upper galleries. The catafalque was of large dimensions, and was flanked on either side by numerous lights and torches as well as by marble images. Over all was a sable canopy, suspended from the ceiling. A Cardinal's hat, with its tassels, lay on the pall. The late Cardinal's motto, "In the hope of life eternal," was repeated frequently in the decorations. A DUTY OF NOVEMBER. "HAVE PITY ON ME, AT LEAST YOU, MY FRIENDS." (_From the Texas Monitor_.) We have often repeated in our morning and night prayers the words of the Creed: "I believe in the communion of saints," without thinking, perhaps, that we were expressing our belief in one of the most beautiful and consoling doctrines of the Holy Catholic Church. I believe in the communion of saints--that is, I believe in the holy communion of prayer and intercession which exists between all the members of the Mystical Body of Christ--the Church, be they fighting the battles of the Lord against the Devil, the Flesh, and the World, in the ranks of the Church Militant on earth, or enjoying in the happy mansions of Heaven their eternal reward, as members of the Church Triumphant, or finally waiting in the dark prison of Purgatory until they shall have paid their debt to the Eternal Justice "_to the last farthing_," and be saved "yet, so as by fire." I believe in the communion of saints--that is, I believe that there exists no barrier between the members of Christ. Death itself cannot separate us from our brethren, who have gone before us. We believe that we daily escape innumerable dangers, both spiritual and temporal, through the prayers of our friends of the Triumphant Church; and we believe also that it is within our power to help by our prayers and sacrifices our friends who are for a time in the middle place of expiation, because "nothing defiled can enter the Kingdom of Heaven." It has always been the practice of the Catholic Church to offer prayers and other pious works in suffrage for the dead, as is abundantly proved by the writings of the Latin Fathers, Tertullian, St. Cyprian, St. Augustine, St. Gregory, and of the Greek Fathers, St. Ephrem, St. Basil, and St. John Chrysostom. St. Chrysostom says: "It was not without good reason ordained by the Apostles that mention should be made of the dead in the tremendous mysteries, because they knew well that these would receive great benefit from it." By the expression "tremendous mysteries" is meant the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass. St. Augustine says, upon the same subject: "It is not to be doubted that the dead are aided by prayers of the Holy Church and by the salutary sacrifice, and by the alms which are offered for their spirits that the Lord may deal with them more mercifully than their sins have deserved. For this, which has been handed down by the Fathers, the Universal Church observes." St. Augustine also tells us that Arius was the first who dared to teach that it was of no use to offer up prayers and sacrifices for the dead, and this doctrine of Arius lie reckoned among heresies. (Heresy 53.) The Church has always made a memento of the dead in the holy sacrifice of the Mass, and exhorted the faithful to pray for them. She urges us to pray for the souls in Purgatory, because not being able to merit, they cannot help themselves in the least. To their appeals for mercy the Almighty answers that His Justice must be satisfied, and that the night in which no one can any longer work has arrived for them (St. John ix., v. 4), and thus these poor souls have recourse to our prayers. According to the pious Gerson we may hear their supplications: "Pray for us because we cannot do anything for ourselves. This help we have a right to expect from you, you have known and loved us in the world. Do not forget us in the time of our need. It is said that it is in the time of affliction that we know our true friends; but what affliction could be compared to ours? Be moved with compassion." Have pity on us, at least you, our friends! The Church being aware of the ingratitude and forgetfulness of men, and the facility with which they neglect their most sacred duties, has set apart a day to be consecrated to the remembrance of the dead. On the 2d day of November, All Souls' Day, she applies all her prayers to propitiate the Divine Mercy through the merits of the Precious Blood of Jesus Christ, her Divine Spouse, to obtain for the souls in Purgatory the remission of the temporal punishment due to their sins, and their speedy admission into the eternal abode of rest, light, and bliss. How holy and precious is the institution of All Souls' Day! How full of charity! It truly demonstrates the love and solicitude of the Church for all her children. In the first centuries of the Church, while the faithful were most exact in praying for their deceased friends and relatives and in having the holy sacrifice of the Mass offered for them, the Church had not yet appointed a special day for all the souls in Purgatory. But in 998 St. Odilon, Abbot of Cluny, having established in all the monasteries of his order the feast of the commemoration of the faithful departed, and ordered that the office be recited for them all, this devotion which was approved by the Popes, soon became general in all the Western Churches. In doing away with the Christian practice of praying for the dead, the Protestant sects have despised the voice of nature, the spirit of Christianity, and the most ancient and respectable tradition. The most efficacious means to help the suffering souls in Purgatory are prayer, fasting, almsgiving, and above all the holy sacrifice of the Mass. By fasting we mean all sorts of mortifications to abstain from certain things in our meals, to deprive ourselves of lawful amusements, to suffer with resignation trials and contradictions, humiliations and reverses of fortune. The alms we give for the dead prompt the Lord to be merciful to them. The sacrifice of the Mass, which was instituted for the living and the dead, is the most efficacious means of delivering them from their pains. "If the sacrifices which Job," says St. John Chrysostom, "offered to God for his children purified them, who could doubt that, when we offer to God the Adorable Sacrifice for the departed, they receive consolation therefrom, and that the Blood of Christ which flows upon our altars for them, the voice of which ascends to heaven, brings about their deliverance." Not only charity and gratitude demand that we should pray for the souls in Purgatory, but it is also for us a positive duty, which we are in justice bound to fulfill. Perhaps some of these poor souls are suffering on our account. Perhaps they are relatives or friends who have loved us too much, or who have been induced to commit sin by our words or example. We are also prompted to pray for them by our own interest. What consolation will it not be for us to know that we have abbreviated their sufferings! How great will their gratitude be after their deliverance! They will manifest it by praying for us, and obtaining for us the help which is so necessary in this valley of tears. In prosperity men forget those who have helped them in adversity; but it will not be so with the souls in Purgatory. After being admitted to the kingdom of heaven through the help of our prayers, "they will solicit," says St. Bernard, "the most precious gifts of grace in our behalf, and because the merciful shall obtain mercy, we will receive after our death the reward of whatever may have been done for the souls of Purgatory during our life. Others will pray for us, and we shall share more abundantly in the suffrages which the Church offers without ceasing, for those who sleep in the Lord." PURGATORIAL ASSOCIATION. A CARD FROM REV. S. S. MATTINGLY. (from the Catholic Columbian) We wish to call the attention of the members of this Association to the near approach of the commemoration of all the faithful departed, which takes place on Monday, the second day of next November. Our Association is in its fourth year of existence. Its numbers have increased beyond our expectations. Just now, on account of the season, applications begin to come in more rapidly, hence we wish to give again the conditions for membership, and the benefits derived from it. The members say one decade of the beads, or one "Our Father" and ten "Hail Marys" every day. They may take what mystery of the Holy Rosary devotion may prompt, and retain or change it at their own will, without reference to us. This is all that is required, and, of course, the obligation cannot bind under pain of even venial sin. Those families which say the Rosary every day need not add another decade unless they choose, but may say the Rosary in union with the Purgatorial Association, and thus gain the benefits for themselves and the faithful departed. The benefits are one Mass every week, which is said for the poor souls, for the spiritual and temporal welfare of the members, according to their intention, and for the same intention a memento is made every day during Holy Mass for them. There are many kind priests who are associated with us in this good work, and they, we are sure, remember us all in the Holy Sacrifice. We thank and beg them to continue to be mindful of us associated and bound together in this most charitable work of shortening, by our prayers and good works, the time of purgation for the souls in Purgatory. Those who desire to become members may send their names, with a postal card directed to themselves, so that their application may be answered. The applications for membership are directed to Rev. S. S. Mattingly, McConnellsville, Morgan County, Ohio. Some two or three times complaints have come to us, but in all cases the letters never came to hand. We have from time to time received letters not intended for us, and from this we judge our letters went elsewhere. We try to be prompt, though an odd time our absence on the mission may delay an answer. Now, dear friends, there is another fact to which we must advert. Many of our dear associates, who were attracted by the charity of our work, are no longer among the living. Their friends have kindly reminded us of their death by letter, and we, grateful for this charity, always pray for them. Their day is passed. Our time is coming. Who can remember the kind faces which have gone out of our families and not shed tears at their absence? Their places are vacant. Love leaves the very chairs on which they sat unoccupied. We look around the room and at the places their forms filled within it. All these bring tears to our eyes, and make the heart too full for utterance. Thus fond imagination, sprung from love, wipes out the vacancy. We look through the mist of our tears and there again are the forms of our love, but alas! they do not speak to us. And days and months are run into years, yet our tears flow on; indeed we cannot and we do not want to forget them. We think of our sins and faults and how they caused theirs, and our cry of pardon for ourselves must come after or with that of mercy for them. THE HOLY FACE AND THE SUFFERING SOULS. The holy souls in Purgatory are ever saying in beseeching accents: "Lord, show us Thy Face," desiring with a great desire to see it; waiting, they longingly wait for the Divine Face of their Saviour. We should often pray for the holy souls who during life thirsted to see, in the splendor of its glory, the Human Face of Jesus Christ. We should often say the Litany of the Holy Face of Jesus, that our Lord may quickly bring these holy souls to the contemplation of His Adorable Countenance. We should pray to Mary, Mother All-Merciful, who, before all others, saw the Face of Jesus in His two-fold nativity in Bethlehem, and from the tomb, to plead for those holy souls; to St. Joseph, who saw the Face of Jesus in Bethlehem and Nazareth; to the glorious St. Michael, Our Lady's regent in Purgatory, one of the seven who stands before the throne and Face of God, who has been appointed to receive souls after death, and is the special consoler and advocate of the holy souls detained amidst the flames of Purgatory. We should also pray to St. Peter for the holy souls, he to whom Christ gave the keys of the kingdom of Heaven. The holy souls are suffering the temporal penalty due to sin. This Apostle had by his sin effaced the image of God in his soul, but Jesus turned His Holy Face toward the unfaithful disciple, and His divine look wounded the heart of Peter with repentant sorrow and love; also St. James and St. John, who with him saw the glory of the Face of Jesus on Mount Thabor, and its sorrow in Gethsemane, when, 'neath the olive trees, it was covered with confusion, and bathed in a bloody sweat for our sins. These great saints, dear to the Heart of Jesus, will surely hear our prayers in behalf of the holy souls. St. Mary Magdalen, who saw the Holy Face in agony on the cross, when its incomparable beauty was obscured under the fearful cloud of the sins of the world, and who assisted the Virgin Mother to wash, anoint, and veil the bruised, pale, features of her Divine Son; the saint, whose many sins were forgiven her because she had loved much, will lend heed to our prayers for the holy souls. We should also invoke, for the holy souls, the Virgin Martyrs, because of their purity, love, and the sufferings they endured to see in Heaven the Face of their King. Yet nothing can help these souls so much as the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass. By the "Blood of the Testament" these prisoners can be brought out of the pit. Even to hear Mass with devotion for the holy souls, brings them great refreshment. St. Jerome says: "The souls in Purgatory, for whom the priest is wont to pray at Mass, suffer no pain whilst Mass is being offered, that after every Mass is said for the souls in Purgatory some souls are released therefrom." Our Blessed Lady, the consoler of the afflicted, will always do much to aid the holy souls; in her maternal solicitude, she has _promised_ to assist and console the devout wearers of the Brown Scapular of Mount Carmel detained in Purgatory, and also to speedily release them from its flames, the Saturday after their death, if _some_ few conditions have been complied with during their life-time on earth. Bishop Vaughan says, "there can be no difficulty in believing thus, if we consider the meaning of a Plenary Indulgence granted by the Church, and applicable to the holy souls. The Sabbatine Indulgence is, in fact, a Plenary Indulgence granted by God, through the prayers of the Blessed Virgin Mary to the deceased who are in Purgatory, provided they have fulfilled upon earth certain specified conditions. The Sacred Congregation of the Holy Office by a Decree of February 13, 1613, forever settled any controversy that should arise on the subject of this Bull. St. Teresa, in the thirty-eighth chapter of her life, shows the special favor Our Lady exerts in favor of her Carmelite children and all who wear the Brown Scapular. She saw a holy friar ascending to Heaven without passing through Purgatory, and was given to understand, that because he had kept his rule well he had obtained the grace granted to the Carmelite Order by special bulls, as to the pains of Purgatory. So from their prison these waiting souls are ever crying out to us, patient and resigned, yet with a most burning desire, they are longing to be brought to the presence of God, and to gaze upon the glorified countenance of the Incarnate Word. They are far more perfectly members of the Mystical Body of Christ than we are, because they are confirmed in grace, and the doctrine of the Communion of Saints should hence prompt us to give the holy souls the charitable assistance of our alms, prayers, and good works. 'Bear ye one another's burdens, and so ye shall fulfill the law of Christ,' and thus one day with them enjoy the endless Vision of the Holy Face of Jesus Christ in its unclouded splendor in Heaven." WHEN WILL THEY LEARN ITS SECRET? HOW THE CARDINAL'S OBSEQUIES IMPRESSED A BAPTIST SPECTATOR. (_From the Baptist Examiner._) For the third time in a quarter of a century the streets have been thronged, and an unending procession has filed by the dead. Long lines reached many blocks, both up and down Fifth avenue, and they grew no shorter through the best part of three days. This recognition of the eminence and power of the Cardinal, John McCloskey, has been very general. All classes have paid homage. And why? He was a gentleman. He was learned, politic, able, far-sighted, clean. His energy was without measure. The rise and reach of his influence and work have no chance for comparison with the accomplishment of any other American clergyman. There is none to name beside him. He was a burning zealot all his life. Elevation and honors came to him. He became a prince in his Church. He swept every avenue of power and influence within his grasp into that Church. He lived singly for it. In his death, his Church exalts herself. She gives, after her faith, prayers, Masses, glory. In his, life he spoke only for Rome. In his death his voice is intensified. His life was one long gain to his people. In his, death they suffer no loss. His time and character and personality are so exalted, that, "being dead he yet speaketh." The Church of Rome stands alone. It is forever strange. It is a law to itself. Thus it comes that this funeral does not belong to America, or to the century. Rome and the Middle Ages conducted the obsequies. The canons are prescribed. They have never changed. Behold then in New York, what might have been seen in ruined Melrose Abbey in its ancient day of splendor. The Cardinal lies in state in his cathedral, that consummate flower of all his ministry. Saw you ever a Roman Pontiff lying in state? The high catafalque is covered with yellow cloth. The body, decked in official robes, uncoffined, reclines aslant thereon. The head is greatly elevated. A mighty candle shines on the bier at either corner. The Cardinal's red hat hangs at his feet. His cape is purple, his sleeves are pink drawn over with lace, his shirt is crimson and white lace covered. Purple gloves are on his hands. On his head is his tall white mitre. His pectoral cross lies on his pulseless breast. His seal ring glitters on his finger. To me it was an awful and uncanny figure. The man was old and disease wasted. The lips were sunken over shrunken gums. The chin was sharp and far-protruding. The colors of the cloths were garish and loud. It was a gay lay figure, red and yellow and white and black and purple and pink. It made me shudder. Yet lying there under the very roof his hands had builded, that reclining figure was immensely impressive. The work--the work, in light and strength and glory stands; but the skilled and cunning workman is brought low, and lies cold and silent. The crowded and glorious, almost living cathedral--the richly bedecked body dismantled, deserted, dead. Was ever contrast so wide or suggestive? The white, shining arches and pinnacles, up-pointing in architectural splendor. The architect lies under them prone, unconscious, decaying. The beautiful windows, all storied in colors almost supernatural, and telling their histories and honoring their place. But the temple of the Cardinal's soul is in ruins, the windows are broken, and its day is darkness and mold. So, silent he lies in his house, surrounded by his faithful, whose cries and lamentations he hears not, his cold hands clasped, his dead face uncovered, as though looking above its high vaulted roof. I seemed to see again the bedizened skeleton of old St. Carlo Borromeo in the crypt of the Cathedral of Milan, as lying in his coffin of glass, his bones all bleached and dressed. But the careless throngs go thoughtlessly, noisily on. Some weep, some laugh, and Thursday, the day of sepulture, comes. What masses of people! What platoons of police! The magnificent temple is packed by pious thousands. The four candles about the bier become four shining rows. The glitter of royal violet velvet and cloth of gold add to the gorgeous trappings of the dead. The waiting multitudes look breathlessly at the black draped columns, the emblems of mourning put on here and there. Without announcement a single voice cries out from the dusky chancel the first lines of the office for the dead. A great Gregorian choir of boys takes up the wail, and their shrill treble is by-and-by joined by the hoarser notes of four hundred priests, in the solemn music of the Pontifical Requiem Mass. It has never been given to mortal ears to listen to such marvels of musical sound in this country. Anon the great organs and the united choirs render the master's most mournful music for the dead. Then processions, then eulogy. And what eulogy! Schools, colleges, convents, asylums, protectories, palaces, cathedrals, churches. What a vast and impressive testimony! What a company rises up to call him blessed! This imposing pageantry is not an empty show. It is Rome's display of her resources and power. Who else can have such processions and vestments and music? Who can so minister to the inherent, perhaps barbaric remnant, love for display? In the wide world where can the ear of man catch such harmonies? The music, as a whole, was a deluge of lofty and inspiring expressions. Anguish, despair, devotion, submission, elevation! Ah, how the lofty Gothic arches thundered! How they sighed and cried and melted. The great assembly was swayed, awe-struck, like branches of forest trees in gales or in zephyrs. The influence of those melodies will not die. Oh! Rome is old, Rome is new; Rome is wise. Rome is the Solomon of the Churches. Mark this well. The Cardinal is dead. What happens? Does the machinery stagger? Has a great and irreparable calamity fallen on the churches? Are any plans abandoned? Is the policy affected? Will aggression cease? Nothing happens but a great and imposing funeral. The plans are not affected. The lines do not waver. No work begun will be suspended. Everything goes on. If only a deacon should die out of some Baptist church, alas! my brethren, the plate returns empty to the altar. The minister puts on his hat. Consternation jumps on the ridge-pole and languishing, settles down. When shall we learn? When shall we plan harmoniously, unite our counsels, work within the lines, cease wasting resources, carry forward a common work, and when some man falls, put a new man in his place, move up the line, and keep step? To-day, when a gap is made here, we try to mend it, after a time, by seeking how great a gap we can create somewhere else. What wonder that good men get tired and go where no such folly flies, and where the current flows on and on forever! And the old Cardinal rests in the crypt, under the high white altar. He sleeps in the mausoleum of the great. He has the reward of his labors. He carried into his tomb the insignia of his high office. Sealed up in his coffin is a parchment which future ages may read, long after we are all forgot, giving a condensed record of his long and active career. The bishops and priests have gone home to their parishes; and their tireless labors go on. They are thinking of the mighty but gentle and kindly Cardinal; of the telegrams from the Papal Court, the College of Cardinals, the Pope, and of the imposing funeral; of his own words which they wrung from him amidst the rigors of death: "I bless you, my children, and all the churches." It was the parting of a prophet. And the priests will live for the Church and mankind. They are whispering, "The faithful are rewarded! Effort is acknowledged! O, Rome has shaken the earth! Rome is putting her armor together again." Sometimes I hear the creaking of her coat of mail as she mightily moves herself in exercise.